"Oh, honey, it's 8:16!"
Though my brain didn't immediately connect that I was supposed to be at work in 14 minutes, I knew I was in trouble and replied with the appropriate "F*ck." I then snuggled back down for a second, let out a sigh and realized that I had to unwrap myself from D's arms, get out of the incredibly comfortable bed, and dash off to my dead-end job.
After another gentle urge from D my feet fell out of the bed, then my legs, hips, torso, and finally (after a little more rest on the pillow) my head. I wandered over, pulled on my clothes, slapped on some make-up haphazardly and rehearsed in my head what my message to my boss would be. I decided being straight-up truthful and adding an ETA would be best. D packed me a bag of fruit for breakfast, made sure all my things were in my bags and I finally dashed out the door.
I called my boss and explained I'd overslept, was on my way, would be in a little before, or at, 9. It was smooth sailing for the first five minutes of my drive until I came upon a truck that had ice on top of it. At every bend, turn, and curve large chunks of said ice would fly off the top of the truck and come at my windshield with terrifying speed and force. I desperately wanted to pass this guy. Images of a large chunk of ice sailing through my windshield, hitting me in the face and causing a huge accident kept flashing through my mind (I am terrified of driving) as I cursed the asshole Acura in front of me for not speeding up just a few mph (he was driving flush with the front of terrifying truck) so I could pass this death trap.
Finally I made it around the life-hazard of a truck only to run smack into the only traffic around this morning. I crawled for a mile, once again cursing all of those in front of me for not driving like I do. I made it into work, feeling utterly disheveled and slightly disoriented. I didn't have my tea, I'm fairly certain my hair is a mess (I've not really looked at a mirror), I'm wearing what I've dubbed my "grandma sweater," my head is pounding, and I've not a thing to do but sit and worry about LSATs. The irony of it is that, although I have absolutely NOTHING going on, I cannot pull out my LSAT book and practice because I'm expected to be working. If I am on the computer it kind of looks like I'm doing something (and I am, I'm blogging!). A giant book open to a page with a problem about which people can play what positions on the basketball team looks much less like my work. *Sigh* Saturday February 2nd will be a day to celebrate (done with LSATs).
I walked into work in the middle of our "Monday morning meeting." This usually consists of our boss just saying a few things about any special promotions we have going on and need to sell, asking if we have any problems, and that's about it. Today I walked into a veritable hornet's nest as my coworker, Pearl, was "fighting" with my boss about some web thing we have to do. Pearl, and most of the other ladies with whom I work, is a widow, probably in her 60s or 70s. Internet is a confusing beast for these women. I spend lots of time trying to show them how to use certain web pages. A typical interaction goes a little something like this:
"Faye, I need your help."
"Alright, what can I do for you?"
"How do I find ____?"
"Well, first go to our website [I tell them the web address, watch them type it incorrectly, gently correct them, watch them type it incorrectly again, correct them again, they give up and I type it]. Then you have to scroll down to where you see the ___ icon."
"Scroll down? What do you mean "scroll down?" Where is that? How do I do that?"
Eye roll, big internal sigh, "See that bar on the right side of the page? No, no. The far right. Yes, that's it! Put your cursor on that, click and hold and then pull your mouse down towards you. Yes! That's it! Ok. Now, click the ____ icon..."
"Huh? What? Icon? Click?"
Sharp, long inhale, "That picture on the right hand side? That's the icon. You want to click on it and then wait until you're transferred to the page..."
"Huh?"
"Just click it!" I'm always pretty proud that it takes me this long to snap.
Click. "It's just white now! What do I do?!"
"You wait. It will come up...there! See? Ok, now you want to enter the information into the indicated fields..."
"Huh?"
"Where it says "phone number" you type in the phone number. Where it says "first name" you type in the first name, etc."
"Oh! Oh I see! [insert coworker's name here] did you see that? I know how to do this now! Oh you're so smart, Faye. Thanks hun!"
I slink back to my own computer.
Fin
So Pearl is fighting with my boss about having to sell an internet ad space as well as space in the paper. Apparently this is too complicated. My boss goes on to give a speech about how if we do not "get with the times" and start utilizing the internet more efficiently/effectively the entire paper will fold, we'll all be laid off, the world will come crashing to a firey end, etc. This is typical of our Monday morning meetings. Every week we get to hear about how if we don't sell ad space the whole paper will come tumbling down around us and we'll all be fired. We're reminded that we'll be fired on an almost daily basis. And it's not just my boss. Many times the other advertising director will saunter over and give us another doom and gloom speech. It's really great for morale.
Is it any wonder I'm looking for another job?
Monday, January 28, 2008
Tuesday, January 22, 2008
Formaldehyde & Febreeze: Not Quite a Fairy Tale
I got into my car feeling sort of excited this morning. I have been rotating through the 3 new CDs I received for Christmas (2 from Matthew (brother) and 1 from Maddie) and am currently on the French mix that Maddie so sweetly made for me. I've quickly become obsessed, absolutely and totally, with "M'en voulez-vous?" I love the kicky little refrain, the high notes she hits that I can sometimes also get (at least it sounds right in my head, but who knows), everything. As I do not have a CD player in my room I mostly just listen to it in the car, hence the excitement.
I had my arms full with my LSAT logic games book, my phone counseling materials (a huge stack of papers--which should be bound but isn't--inside a legal pad on which I make more "doodles" and drawings than actual notes...oops), my tea, and wonderful purse (which held a bottle of water, a diet coke--we don't have any regular--wallet which still smells of cologne from mystery source, sunglasses, regular glasses (both sets of glasses in cases), small scraps of paper with reminders on them (see previous blog entry), gift cards, band-aids, lip gloss, chapstick, pens, highliter, pencil and eraser, bunch of business cards, etc etc etc), so opening the door was a bit of chore. I managed to get inside my car, not spill my tea, relieve my arms of their terrible load and get the key in the ignition. I closed the door, turned up the volume, put the car in reverse and then it hit me: my car smells like formaldehyde.
I am extremely familiar with the smell of formaldehyde. I spent numerous semesters cutting up fetal pigs, sheep's brains and eyes, fish, frogs, worms, cats, sharks, and all other manner of [once-living] animals, etc. So when I first got the whiff my brain immediately conjured up the image of one of my pigs, lying tummy up on the biology dissection table, little chin stubble showing, tongue hanging out, and me, delicate lovely me, ripping open her (yes, we confirmed it was a female) rib cage (very easy to do. And oddly satisfying...I have issues).
I immediately put the car back into park and started looking for the culprit. Mind you I have a relatively clean car. I try not to keep too much crap in there, though lately I've always had more in the car than I'm able to carry in my arms. So I flung aside a little jacket, a pair of sneakers, a pair of heels (because you never know when you'll need stilettos), the strap to one of my handbags, a coffee carrier from Starbucks (it was completely unnecessary and I feel obliged to recycle it. Damn "green" movement), a bag full of Tupperware (Brianna finally made me take it) and found another bag. Inside it was a banana. This banana was rather brown but not too squishy. I figured it had been well preserved since it's been freezing lately (gooooooooooo winter!). But the damn thing had started to smell and apparently aging banana smells like formaldehyde.
This sort of surprised me. Brianna and I would buy banana's sometimes and when they started to get a little past their prime we'd shove them in the freezer to use to make banana bread at some later date (she always made the banana bread. I just don't seem to have an interest in making it, only eating it). These bananas, to the best of my memory, never smelled like dissection to me. In fact, I don't really remember them smelling at all. I decided that I had spent too much time pondering this smelly banana and finally opened my car door and flung it out into the yard, thinking some squirrel or bird or groundhog might enjoy it as a bizarre winter treat. It seems, however, that even once you've removed the source of the smell, the smell itself continues to linger.
I drove all the way to work (a whole 20 minutes) trying to sing this lovely French song (I get most of the words, but inevitably trip all over them when attempting to sing them in succession and it comes out as completely garbled crap until the refrain of "whooa oooh oooh oooh oh, m'en voulez-vous ous ous, woah oh oh oh oh oh"...complicated stuff), trying to not breathe in too much. I rolled down my window for about 30 seconds, hoping to disperse the smell to the outside world, which immediately caused my ears to feel as though they were in danger of getting frostbite. And so I suffered through the smell, wishing I had some Vick's to put under my nose as I did back in the day. Oh well.
I suppose I should be thankful that it's not July with its days and nights of sweltering heat, sure to destroy anything left in your car with the windows up. But with it being so cold, and the forecast for the day being rain and/or snow, I could not leave the windows down to try to let the smell escape. And so I sit here, with an hour and a half left of work, anticipating the smell of dead fetal pigs and sheep's brains. What a fabulous way to end my day! Maybe I should buy some Febreeze...
I had my arms full with my LSAT logic games book, my phone counseling materials (a huge stack of papers--which should be bound but isn't--inside a legal pad on which I make more "doodles" and drawings than actual notes...oops), my tea, and wonderful purse (which held a bottle of water, a diet coke--we don't have any regular--wallet which still smells of cologne from mystery source, sunglasses, regular glasses (both sets of glasses in cases), small scraps of paper with reminders on them (see previous blog entry), gift cards, band-aids, lip gloss, chapstick, pens, highliter, pencil and eraser, bunch of business cards, etc etc etc), so opening the door was a bit of chore. I managed to get inside my car, not spill my tea, relieve my arms of their terrible load and get the key in the ignition. I closed the door, turned up the volume, put the car in reverse and then it hit me: my car smells like formaldehyde.
I am extremely familiar with the smell of formaldehyde. I spent numerous semesters cutting up fetal pigs, sheep's brains and eyes, fish, frogs, worms, cats, sharks, and all other manner of [once-living] animals, etc. So when I first got the whiff my brain immediately conjured up the image of one of my pigs, lying tummy up on the biology dissection table, little chin stubble showing, tongue hanging out, and me, delicate lovely me, ripping open her (yes, we confirmed it was a female) rib cage (very easy to do. And oddly satisfying...I have issues).
I immediately put the car back into park and started looking for the culprit. Mind you I have a relatively clean car. I try not to keep too much crap in there, though lately I've always had more in the car than I'm able to carry in my arms. So I flung aside a little jacket, a pair of sneakers, a pair of heels (because you never know when you'll need stilettos), the strap to one of my handbags, a coffee carrier from Starbucks (it was completely unnecessary and I feel obliged to recycle it. Damn "green" movement), a bag full of Tupperware (Brianna finally made me take it) and found another bag. Inside it was a banana. This banana was rather brown but not too squishy. I figured it had been well preserved since it's been freezing lately (gooooooooooo winter!). But the damn thing had started to smell and apparently aging banana smells like formaldehyde.
This sort of surprised me. Brianna and I would buy banana's sometimes and when they started to get a little past their prime we'd shove them in the freezer to use to make banana bread at some later date (she always made the banana bread. I just don't seem to have an interest in making it, only eating it). These bananas, to the best of my memory, never smelled like dissection to me. In fact, I don't really remember them smelling at all. I decided that I had spent too much time pondering this smelly banana and finally opened my car door and flung it out into the yard, thinking some squirrel or bird or groundhog might enjoy it as a bizarre winter treat. It seems, however, that even once you've removed the source of the smell, the smell itself continues to linger.
I drove all the way to work (a whole 20 minutes) trying to sing this lovely French song (I get most of the words, but inevitably trip all over them when attempting to sing them in succession and it comes out as completely garbled crap until the refrain of "whooa oooh oooh oooh oh, m'en voulez-vous ous ous, woah oh oh oh oh oh"...complicated stuff), trying to not breathe in too much. I rolled down my window for about 30 seconds, hoping to disperse the smell to the outside world, which immediately caused my ears to feel as though they were in danger of getting frostbite. And so I suffered through the smell, wishing I had some Vick's to put under my nose as I did back in the day. Oh well.
I suppose I should be thankful that it's not July with its days and nights of sweltering heat, sure to destroy anything left in your car with the windows up. But with it being so cold, and the forecast for the day being rain and/or snow, I could not leave the windows down to try to let the smell escape. And so I sit here, with an hour and a half left of work, anticipating the smell of dead fetal pigs and sheep's brains. What a fabulous way to end my day! Maybe I should buy some Febreeze...
Wednesday, January 16, 2008
Silly Scraps
Life coaches, therapists, organizers, and mothers have lots of tricks to help people remember things: lists, names, people they need to call, books they need to get, etc. One of the most widely used devices is writing it down. People encourage forgetfuls (those of us who tend to forget everything you need us to remember, but remember the most useless things in the world) to write down everything. I started to do this recently. A coworker asked to borrow a book that I own about a month ago. I told her I'd have to look for it as it's been years since I've even thought about it. I wrote it down on a piece of paper. I have yet to remember to look for that book, but the piece of paper telling me to do so is still in my purse or wallet.
I need to return a video I rented to the video store. Instead of writing this down on a piece of paper I have actually placed the DVD in my purse (it's a great purse; it has lots and lots of pockets in which I store many, many things--including pieces of paper with reminders written on them. Thanks Darin!). I have yet to return the DVD (yes, I know I need to get Netflix again).
I really must call the dentist. It has been too long since I've been in for a check up and I feel like my gums are weak. Does anyone else have that feeling? It's not always the same spot, but some days there will be a place on my gums, between two teeth, that just feels weak. Like it needs some special care. I know that the dentist will tell me I need to get back into the habit of flossing twice a day (I did actually do this for years and my dentist praised my perfectly pink gums...I thought that was weird, but I was proud at the same time). I have written myself a note to call my dentist. I have not done so. And again, I have not looked at the note that is somewhere in either wonderful purse or wallet (which, oddly, smells of cologne. Not the cologne of the only man I've been with in the past 7 months--which is an excellent cologne--, but some random cologne. It just showed up one day. Nothing else around it smelled like cologne. Odd, very odd).
I could go on and on about the many things that I've written down in order to better remember them and have not done (or not, because I'm positive there are many scraps of paper that I'm not remembering). This tends to happen because I simply do not look at these scraps of paper ever again. I put them in a place where I'm sure to notice them, such as my wallet (I'll see it every time I go to get some cash--unfortunately I use my debit card far more often), I place them in the top front pocket of wonderful purse where I'm sure to notice them every time I grab my car keys, cell phone, or iPod. I place them on my mirror at home where I will surely notice them each morning as I go to put on my mascara and eyeliner and make sure I don't look like a strung-out raccoon. The problem is I do see them and then I promptly get annoyed that all these scraps of paper are floating around my wallet, purse, and mirror!
"Writing it down," the go to advice of many, simply does not work for me. Calling me incessantly doesn't really work either. My mother will call me four times a day to remind me that I need to pick up some milk on my way home from work. I will roll my eyes and say, "I know, mother." I always forget the milk. Texting me a reminder often does work; but only if you get me at the right place at the right time. See, if you need to borrow my calculator (as B did this past weekend), texting me while I'm at the office is not a good reminder because my calculator is at home and by the time I get home I will forget all about the calculator and not look at my texts because I have no reason to. Texting me a reminder that you need the calculator while I'm at home and making dinner is also not going to help me remember. I will forget all about the calculator because I will be focusing on food and when food is imminent I will forget just about everything else. The best time to text me a reminder is while I am near the object you need so that I can get the text and immediately put that item into wonderful purse.
"But Faye," you say, "How am I to know when you are in the vicinity of what I need?" Easy! Text me or call me. In fact, calling would be great because then you will 1) know where I am, 2) be able to verbally berate me if I am nowhere near where you need me to be 3) you can hang on while I do what you need me to do. This will not work if you call me while I am already on my way to your house. If you call me and I am 10 minutes from your house I will not be particularly willing to turn around to get whatever it was you needed (unless you're B because I know that you could beat me up).
If you ask me to do something for you and I reply with, "Hold on, let me write this down. Otherwise I'll never remember," please kindly remind me that I will not remember if it is written down on a small scrap of paper. Once you have ensured that I have written on a large piece of cardboard or somewhere visible on the front of my body, make sure to follow up with a text or a phone call. Try not to get too angry with me when, for the thousandth time, I've forgotten what you wanted. Never ask me to water plants. I tend to forget all about plants. I don't notice that they are dead, have been removed, or have been replaced with another one. Plants just are not my thing. If you follow these simple guidelines we will get along swimmingly! If you buy me a PDA or iPhone that will actually send off alarms when something needs to be done, I will marry you (we will register at William Sanoma and I will get my KitchenAide mixer, in the color of my choice, once and for all!).
I need to return a video I rented to the video store. Instead of writing this down on a piece of paper I have actually placed the DVD in my purse (it's a great purse; it has lots and lots of pockets in which I store many, many things--including pieces of paper with reminders written on them. Thanks Darin!). I have yet to return the DVD (yes, I know I need to get Netflix again).
I really must call the dentist. It has been too long since I've been in for a check up and I feel like my gums are weak. Does anyone else have that feeling? It's not always the same spot, but some days there will be a place on my gums, between two teeth, that just feels weak. Like it needs some special care. I know that the dentist will tell me I need to get back into the habit of flossing twice a day (I did actually do this for years and my dentist praised my perfectly pink gums...I thought that was weird, but I was proud at the same time). I have written myself a note to call my dentist. I have not done so. And again, I have not looked at the note that is somewhere in either wonderful purse or wallet (which, oddly, smells of cologne. Not the cologne of the only man I've been with in the past 7 months--which is an excellent cologne--, but some random cologne. It just showed up one day. Nothing else around it smelled like cologne. Odd, very odd).
I could go on and on about the many things that I've written down in order to better remember them and have not done (or not, because I'm positive there are many scraps of paper that I'm not remembering). This tends to happen because I simply do not look at these scraps of paper ever again. I put them in a place where I'm sure to notice them, such as my wallet (I'll see it every time I go to get some cash--unfortunately I use my debit card far more often), I place them in the top front pocket of wonderful purse where I'm sure to notice them every time I grab my car keys, cell phone, or iPod. I place them on my mirror at home where I will surely notice them each morning as I go to put on my mascara and eyeliner and make sure I don't look like a strung-out raccoon. The problem is I do see them and then I promptly get annoyed that all these scraps of paper are floating around my wallet, purse, and mirror!
"Writing it down," the go to advice of many, simply does not work for me. Calling me incessantly doesn't really work either. My mother will call me four times a day to remind me that I need to pick up some milk on my way home from work. I will roll my eyes and say, "I know, mother." I always forget the milk. Texting me a reminder often does work; but only if you get me at the right place at the right time. See, if you need to borrow my calculator (as B did this past weekend), texting me while I'm at the office is not a good reminder because my calculator is at home and by the time I get home I will forget all about the calculator and not look at my texts because I have no reason to. Texting me a reminder that you need the calculator while I'm at home and making dinner is also not going to help me remember. I will forget all about the calculator because I will be focusing on food and when food is imminent I will forget just about everything else. The best time to text me a reminder is while I am near the object you need so that I can get the text and immediately put that item into wonderful purse.
"But Faye," you say, "How am I to know when you are in the vicinity of what I need?" Easy! Text me or call me. In fact, calling would be great because then you will 1) know where I am, 2) be able to verbally berate me if I am nowhere near where you need me to be 3) you can hang on while I do what you need me to do. This will not work if you call me while I am already on my way to your house. If you call me and I am 10 minutes from your house I will not be particularly willing to turn around to get whatever it was you needed (unless you're B because I know that you could beat me up).
If you ask me to do something for you and I reply with, "Hold on, let me write this down. Otherwise I'll never remember," please kindly remind me that I will not remember if it is written down on a small scrap of paper. Once you have ensured that I have written on a large piece of cardboard or somewhere visible on the front of my body, make sure to follow up with a text or a phone call. Try not to get too angry with me when, for the thousandth time, I've forgotten what you wanted. Never ask me to water plants. I tend to forget all about plants. I don't notice that they are dead, have been removed, or have been replaced with another one. Plants just are not my thing. If you follow these simple guidelines we will get along swimmingly! If you buy me a PDA or iPhone that will actually send off alarms when something needs to be done, I will marry you (we will register at William Sanoma and I will get my KitchenAide mixer, in the color of my choice, once and for all!).
Monday, January 7, 2008
On the Trail
Wagon Members:
Bob S.
Brian M.
Brianna W.
Gabriel D.
Katy B.
Madeleine F.
Matt G.
Rachel D.
Rob B.
Travel Log:
You have reached Kansas River Crossing.
You have chosen to caulk the wagon and raft across the river.
You have successfully crossed the river.
Rob wants a cigar.
You have reached Chimney Rock.
Hunting Summary: 3 buffalo hit; 100% accuracy; meat hunted: 209 lbs.
Brian wants a cigar.
You have reached For Kearny.
Bob has dysentery.
Matt desperately needs water.
Hunting Summary: 2 buffalo hit; 100% accuracy; meat hunted: 140 lbs.
You have reached Big Blue River Crossing.
You have chosen to caulk the wagon and raft across the river.
You lost 54 lbs of food, 22 ammo, 1 oxen, and $27 crossing the river.
Rob has cholera.
You stole 0 lbs of food, 0 ammo, $42, and 1 oxen from Christina.
Brian desperately needs water.
Hunting Summary: 2 buffalo hit; 100% accuracy; meat hunted: 212 lbs.
Rachel is tired.
You stole 0 lbs of food, 0 ammo, $129, and 0 oxen from Matt.
You have reached Fort Laramie.
Brianna has cholera.
You stole 0 lbs of food, 0 ammo, $182, and 0 oxen from Shannan.
Brianna has typhoid fever.
You have reached Independence Rock.
Gabriel is annoyed at you.
You stole 0 lbs of food, 0 ammo, $44, and 0 oxen from Kandis.
Gabriel got lost.
Hunting Summary: 2 buffalo hit; 100% accuracy; meat hunted: 230 lbs.
Brianna has typhoid fever.
You have reached South Pass.
Bob is annoyed at you.
You stole 0 lbs of food, 0 ammo, $166, and 0 oxen from Christina.
You have reached East Meadow.
Hunting Summary: 2 buffalo hit; 100% accuracy; meat hunted: 232 lbs.
You have reached Fort Bridger.
Hunting Summary: 3 buffalo hit; 100% accuracy; meat hunted: 225 lbs.
You stole 0 lbs of food, 0 ammo, $23, and 1 oxen from Matt.
Madeleine is tired.
You have reached Green River Crossing.
You have decided to caulk the wagon and raft across the river.
You lost 17 lbs of food, 7 ammo, 0 oxen, and $8 crossing the river.
You stole 0 food, 0 ammo, $101, and 1 oxen from Shannan.
You have reached Soda Springs.
Hunting Summary: 2 buffalo hit, 2 birds hit; 100% accuracy; meat hunted: 139 lbs.
You stole 0 lbs of food, 0 ammo, $36, and 0 oxen from Kandis.
Hunting Summary: 2 buffalo hit; 100% accuracy; meat hunted: 195 lbs.
Madeleine has dysentery.
You have reached Fort Hall.
Hunting Summary: 2 buffalo hit; 80% accuracy (4 hits, 1 miss); meat hunted: 174 lbs.
Gabriel got lost.
You have reached Snake River Crossing.
You have chosen to caulk the wagon and raft across the river.
You lost 0 lbs of food, 5 ammo, 0 oxen, and $19 crossing the river.
Hunting Summary: 3 buffalo hit; 100% accuracy; meat hunted: 240 lbs.
You have reached Fort Boise.
Rob is annoyed at you.
Hunting Summary: 2 buffalo hit, 1 bird hit; 100% accuracy; meat hunted: 180 lbs.
You stole 0 lbs of food, 0 ammo, $27, and 0 oxen from Christina.
Rob has explosive diarrhea.
You have reached Oregon City!
Conditions:
Cloudy
Hot
Wagon:
Pace: 34 mi/day
Food: 63 lbs
Health: Good
Money: $1126
Ammo: 9
Oxen: 6
Bob S.
Brian M.
Brianna W.
Gabriel D.
Katy B.
Madeleine F.
Matt G.
Rachel D.
Rob B.
Travel Log:
You have reached Kansas River Crossing.
You have chosen to caulk the wagon and raft across the river.
You have successfully crossed the river.
Rob wants a cigar.
You have reached Chimney Rock.
Hunting Summary: 3 buffalo hit; 100% accuracy; meat hunted: 209 lbs.
Brian wants a cigar.
You have reached For Kearny.
Bob has dysentery.
Matt desperately needs water.
Hunting Summary: 2 buffalo hit; 100% accuracy; meat hunted: 140 lbs.
You have reached Big Blue River Crossing.
You have chosen to caulk the wagon and raft across the river.
You lost 54 lbs of food, 22 ammo, 1 oxen, and $27 crossing the river.
Rob has cholera.
You stole 0 lbs of food, 0 ammo, $42, and 1 oxen from Christina.
Brian desperately needs water.
Hunting Summary: 2 buffalo hit; 100% accuracy; meat hunted: 212 lbs.
Rachel is tired.
You stole 0 lbs of food, 0 ammo, $129, and 0 oxen from Matt.
You have reached Fort Laramie.
Brianna has cholera.
You stole 0 lbs of food, 0 ammo, $182, and 0 oxen from Shannan.
Brianna has typhoid fever.
You have reached Independence Rock.
Gabriel is annoyed at you.
You stole 0 lbs of food, 0 ammo, $44, and 0 oxen from Kandis.
Gabriel got lost.
Hunting Summary: 2 buffalo hit; 100% accuracy; meat hunted: 230 lbs.
Brianna has typhoid fever.
You have reached South Pass.
Bob is annoyed at you.
You stole 0 lbs of food, 0 ammo, $166, and 0 oxen from Christina.
You have reached East Meadow.
Hunting Summary: 2 buffalo hit; 100% accuracy; meat hunted: 232 lbs.
You have reached Fort Bridger.
Hunting Summary: 3 buffalo hit; 100% accuracy; meat hunted: 225 lbs.
You stole 0 lbs of food, 0 ammo, $23, and 1 oxen from Matt.
Madeleine is tired.
You have reached Green River Crossing.
You have decided to caulk the wagon and raft across the river.
You lost 17 lbs of food, 7 ammo, 0 oxen, and $8 crossing the river.
You stole 0 food, 0 ammo, $101, and 1 oxen from Shannan.
You have reached Soda Springs.
Hunting Summary: 2 buffalo hit, 2 birds hit; 100% accuracy; meat hunted: 139 lbs.
You stole 0 lbs of food, 0 ammo, $36, and 0 oxen from Kandis.
Hunting Summary: 2 buffalo hit; 100% accuracy; meat hunted: 195 lbs.
Madeleine has dysentery.
You have reached Fort Hall.
Hunting Summary: 2 buffalo hit; 80% accuracy (4 hits, 1 miss); meat hunted: 174 lbs.
Gabriel got lost.
You have reached Snake River Crossing.
You have chosen to caulk the wagon and raft across the river.
You lost 0 lbs of food, 5 ammo, 0 oxen, and $19 crossing the river.
Hunting Summary: 3 buffalo hit; 100% accuracy; meat hunted: 240 lbs.
You have reached Fort Boise.
Rob is annoyed at you.
Hunting Summary: 2 buffalo hit, 1 bird hit; 100% accuracy; meat hunted: 180 lbs.
You stole 0 lbs of food, 0 ammo, $27, and 0 oxen from Christina.
Rob has explosive diarrhea.
You have reached Oregon City!
Conditions:
Cloudy
Hot
Wagon:
Pace: 34 mi/day
Food: 63 lbs
Health: Good
Money: $1126
Ammo: 9
Oxen: 6
Saturday, January 5, 2008
Illness Inspires Introspection
There are times in everyone’s life where s/he ponders his/her own worth. What is it, exactly, that we’re doing? A great many of us waste awesome quantities of time with trivial pursuits like video games and movies, but does that make our lives any less important? Or does it, in fact, enrich them? The days I’ve spent with friends, lounging on couches or hiking through hills and mountains…are they more or less worthwhile than the time I’ve spent on academic pursuits? Are any of these experiences really of importance?
It would be unsettling to think that our lives are simply a series of meaningless events, yet so few of us are able to explain what the meaning may be. I tend to think that a purpose may be out of reach, but that the very fact that we question such things presents us with worthiness that is, in many ways, incomprehensible. For why else would we be vehicles of creativity and inquisitive thought but to provide life with greatness, gentleness, happiness?
My safe little world took a hit before Christmas when I had to end a relationship that I rather enjoyed but realized was just not healthy. A week later my good friend’s life was hit with a similar mortar shell. Then another friend’s suffered a similar fate just 24 hours later. I gawked a bit at the coincidence of it all. Why should all three of us have our hearts ripped out at nearly the same time? Why was I first?
Truth be told, I loved being first. I fell into my wretched depression; a deep sorrow and funk out of which no one could pull me. Nothing made me smile or laugh. Everything was doom and gloom, horridness, black. But when M’s heart broke I snapped out of it. My time for self-pity had passed. I needed to suck it up and step up to the plate and face my duty. This isn’t to say that it isn’t a pleasure to help my friends; in fact it is quite the opposite. When my friends hurt and turn to me to help them through their pain I feel suddenly wonderful. M needed me to just be there for her. Just “being there” is a skill I’ve perfected over many years.
I always hated it when I would feel down or introspective and someone would continue to hound me to talk about it when I’d already assured them that I did not want to. I made a vow in seventh grade to be someone who could simply listen, absorb, and understand. I practiced with everyone. When someone was in pain and was being pestered I would go up to them and ask if they needed to talk. Usually they would say no, so I would tell them gently that if they just needed to get it out they could come to me. Lo and behold they started to. The secrets that were told to me in moments of the utmost openness were astounding. I learned not to react, but to simply sit and absorb; to respond only when they were ready and to give advice only when it was wanted or, in some cases, needed.
Maybe majoring in psychology wasn’t such a stupid thing for me to do. Sure, I regret not sticking with kinesiology and working with human movement (a subject for which I still harbor great passion), but when it comes down to it maybe I’ve been honing my psychological skills for years to make myself the kind of friend I always wanted. Though I don’t think my calling is to be a psychologist, I cannot doubt that learning the art of understanding and listening has been most valuable. When I think on the moments when I feel the happiest, the most purposeful, it is when I am helping the people for whom I care the most. Maybe that is my purpose…
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