Bryan came home and our faces morphed together

Bryan came home Monday night!! And we got our first reunited kiss pictured in the paper:


"The Lord rewards every man for his faithfulness. The Lord delivered you into my hands today…" I Sam 26:23 :o)

Bored Sara = Long Pointless Post

"Hey, it worked! I was afraid I'd have to go through that all over again. I always expect the worst!"

"You shouldn't always expect the worst, that's no way to live! Always expect the best! Always expect the best and see how happy your life becomes!"

The cashier nodded and promised the man in front of me that she'd change her ways as she handed him his receipt. I just caught the tail of this conversation, but it was the way he said that last part that assured me he was either an evangelical preacher or a Dr. Phil idolizer. Either way, both species of men are prone to disillusionment. What kind of history does this man have to make him assume that always expecting the best makes your life happier? It sounds more likely to lead to perpetual disappointment and regret.

In other news:

I still don't have my house. Maybe tomorrow. Or maybe never. See that? I'm far from being an "expect the best" kind of person.

Someone asked me today if my husband was underage. More on that later if it develops into anything interesting.

Bryan's homecoming was pushed back four days. Time to reset all my countdowns again.

Unrelated to the homecoming date changing, the Marines did more very frustrating and stupid things today. I suffer from the same "arrogant independence" that Lady Catherine accused Elizabeth Bennet of having (thanks, Mom), and that doesn't clash well with control-freaks like Darcy's aunt or the Marines. Hmm... the Marines as Lady Catherine de Bourgh... I think I like that analogy. Both have a "dignified impertinence", both assume they know what's best for the man in love with the independent woman, and both try to keep them apart. Now if only Bryan owned land half the size of Darbyshire the analogy would be complete.

"For I know very well what the temptations of the Devil are, and that one of his greatest is to put it into a man's head that he can write and print a book, and gain both money and fame by it."
Don Quixote, Part II, Prologue

For Those Who Wonder About Me

Hm. I forgot about all the noisy jets around here.

I have a house! But I'm only allowed to look, not touch. For some reason Housing deems it necessary to make me wait another week till I can move into this already vacated house that is assigned to me. Of all the houses and all the streets in this neighborhood, we ended up getting a house next door to the one we lived in last year. Crazy, but I'm happy with it. Until I can move in next week, I'm crashing on my friend's floor. She lives conveniently close to a coffee shop.

And until Bryan comes home in about two weeks, I'll be sitting here in Smalltown, USA dying of boredom. I need a job, but unfortunately we're stationed in an area where graphic designers go crazy for want of work. I'd like to stay sane, but my hopes are not high.

Kansas City Curtain Call

Only a few days are left for me here in Kansas City. Then I'll leave this split-level home of six months and begin the journey that takes one month and a thousand miles to get back in Bryan's arms. Of course I'm ecstatic about that last part, but leaving KC will be bittersweet.

Things I will miss about this Midwest home include the adorable 10-month-old who thinks I'm hilarious, the evening neighborhood walks with my preggo sister, the dinners and drinks made by my brother-in-law, the plethora of shops at my city-living fingertips, the Starlight Theater productions, and the nightly viewing of seasons on DVD (currently working through 90210).

Things I will not miss include waiting till naptime to shower, getting my toes crushed by Toby's big paws, and living with roommates who have a higher mess tolerance than me.

I'm sure you're wondering if six months of Flora's cute babyness has convinced this nanny/aunt to give her a cousin as soon as Bryan comes home. The short answer: no. Flora's skills at persuasion have not advanced beyond smiles and laughs. We'll revisit this issue in a few years and see if she can formulate a better argument by then.

Coffee Shop Blogging

Today is my day off Flora duty, so I am here enjoying a 12oz cup of joe and an almond croissant. According to my punch card, this is my eighth coffee here so my next one is free. I have about a week and a half to redeem my free coffee before I begin my journey back to the North Carolina coast. I am so SO excited about moving back! This morning I called the housing office on base and found out that we've moved up on the wait list from #34 two weeks ago to #22 today. Once I'm there it won't be exciting at all because I'll still have a few weeks to wait before Bryan arrives. Those last few weeks will be comprised of the longest days of my life. I wouldn't wish a prolonged separation on any married couple, but the homecoming is so exquisitely exciting that I wish everyone could know the joys of it.

Last weekend my college friends and I had a little reunion in Denver, Colorado. You girls are great! Driving several hours through flat and boring Kansas was slightly redeemed by the ginormous white windmills, fields of sunflowers, and signs for the world's largest prairie dog. Our trip was highlighted by an interrogation of Hannah's new boyfriend, pedicures by a woman who took two dozen pictures of us with my camera, three goofy girls sharing a small fitting room in Macy's, Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants 2, and... well, you really don't need to know about the best parts. ;)

What's my pseudonym?

It's been over a decade since I attended a young author's conference, but the influence of that elementary school diversion has finally paid off. Today I began my great American novel. It's very pretentious, full of sentences long enough to fill a page, and even a few brand new words which I made up just to serve my purposes. All attributes of a celebrated classic. But don't expect to get any sneak previews of my literary masterpiece. It will take at least ten years to write and revise a novel as thick as the Bible and twice as confusing as Shakespeare. When it is finally finished I will lock it away in a safety deposit box only to be published upon my death. It's a fail-proof plan for success.

Lately I've been beside myself with anticipation of going back to North Carolina this month, finally getting on the housing wait list, and looking into available jobs on base--all signs of Bryan's eminent return from Iraq! The closer it gets the longer the days seem to strrreeetch. I can't wait!!

Crafting with Flora

Per your request, here is a picture of Flora in her "I Love My Nanny" bib that I designed for her. Another project recently inspired by my boredom was to make the letters of her name to hang on her wall. I first traced and cut the letter shapes out of styrofoam. Then I used hot-glue (the duct tape for women) to wrap the sides in white fabric.


Finally I filled the exposed styrofoam with artificial flowers, courtesy of Joann's 70% off clearance bin. The result is very colorful and fun, but it still hasn't quite made it to her wall yet!

Mac's Middle Name is Lazarus

It was very still and dark last Thursday night, yet I had no impending sense of the doom about to befall. I sat at my desk playing Text Twist while I waited for Bryan to come online. Around 11pm I heard Skype's musical queue and abandoned my word scrambling to answer Bryan's call. Then it happened. Everything... stopped. Mac's screen turned pale gray like a face on a deathbed. His last words, "You must restart." I obediently turned him off, but he made no effort to turn back on for me. I felt like a doctor duped into an assisted suicide. I grasped his metal casing which I never cleaned or loved enough during his short life and cried, "Don't leave me!! You can't leave me like this!!" That night I repeatedly tried to turn Mac on, but it was too late. The flatline was buzzing; Mac was gone.

I went to bed dreading the arrangements I'd have to make for Mac's remains in the morning. At least I had finally (for the first time) backed up all my data last month. I thought about how kind it was that God didn't let me lose all my digital photos and illustrations. I'm sure those things are not essential to His life-plan for me, but he made sure I had them backed up before this happened. I was touched. We had a moment.

Friday morning I groggily stumbled to my desk out of habit and opened up Mac--then I sighed remembering the night before. One more try... I pressed the button and plastered my ear to the keyboard hoping to hear the whirring sounds of life inside. I did! I was shocked! I waited and watched as Mac started up just fine. I half expected to see him display an error message that said "Psych!" I never knew Mac was a prankster, but he got me good that night. I'm already thinking of ways that I can get him back--like downloading Windows Media Player or pricing new Macs online.

Independence Day

One sunny afternoon I pulled in to Wal-Mart and found a parking space. As occasionally happens, my timing was just awkward enough that I came around the back of my car just in time to intercept another pedestrian heading for the doors. I didn't look closely at him, but my initial glance told me that he was older with a strong gait. He must've glanced my way too, because he noticed the "Marines" sticker on my car and said, "Are you in the Marines?" I smiled a little and considered saying yes, but instead opted for the truth and told him no, it's my husband who is the Marine. "Ah. Well tell him I said thank you for serving our country." To which I replied, "That's very considerate of you and yes, he deserves your thanks, but what am I? Chopped liver? Does a military wife not deserve your thanks, too? I put my wedding, my career, and my life on hold because I chose to love and support that man who's serving our country. I keep his morale high so that he doesn't become part of the statistic that Marines have the highest suicide rate of any military branch. I put up with all the crappy aspects of the military like ever-changing homecoming dates, rules that don't make sense, and moving cross-country every few years. I didn't sign a five-year contract that requires me to put up with all this; I'm voluntarily letting the Marines run my life because I know my husband needs me. My husband is the hero, but if he was here and not in Iraq he'd tell you to thank me, too, for making so many sacrifices and sticking by his side through everything we've endured together for the sake of service to our country."

Ok, so I didn't really say that whole last part, but I wanted to. When you're thanking a military hero, don't forget to also thank their spouse for persevering in a position that many could not handle. But please, do not thank me. I'm not asking for recognition from my family and friends who already know my plight...that would be a little weird. :) Next year I will no longer be a military wife, and I just hope that I won't forget the experience in years to come. And if I ever thank a military wife for her husband's service, I hope that I won't forget to thank her, too.

Done with Ivanhoe, On to Don Quixote

Hello. My name is Sara K., and I am a book snob. If it is not a classic, then I do not want to read it. I am finally admitting my problem after years of failed interventions from family and friends who propose adding non-classics to my reading list. It's a modern classic, they say. It's just like Jane Austen, they say. It's gripping and you won't be able to put it down, they say. I politely smile and nod and tell them I'll keep that book in mind, while secretly I'm lamenting all the great classics that have made it onto Wishbone but not into my hands. Not that I use a talking dog as my standard for knowing the best books to read, but I think there's a reason he never resorted to modern literature. It's just not as good. I think I've given it a fair chance, but in my opinion Harry is no Frodo. Sue Grafton doesn't compare with Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, and I've yet to find anyone who can rival Austen's subtle wit and understated passions.

Yes, I admit that I'm a book snob. It's a crime to be so unfair and it's a punishment to miss the pop culture afforded by Peretti, Grisham, and Rowling. I'm sure that even Rory Gilmore would recommend a more diversified reading list, but it's just too hard for me to change my ways. It's a disease I have to live with, and I hope that in time my well-meaning family and friends will learn to accept my errant snobbery, or at least accept my apologies for being so proud and prejudiced.

Full-Time Nanny + Part-Time Graphic Designer =

I just ordered a bib for Flora with this design on it!

An Off-Broadway Review

Tonight I joined my sister and two other friends to see a Broadway-style production in a large outdoor Starlight Theater. The show was called The Drowsy Chaperone and even after reading the programs we had no idea what it would be about. It turned out to be a really great show and a very fun night (despite a first-act margarita that pushed on my bladder for three hours).

I'd love to show you pictures, but unfortunately cameras were not allowed. Basically the show is about a modern-day man using a record-player in his home to listen to a 1920's musical comedy called The Drowsy Chaperone (ie, the drunk maid of honor). The entire jazzy musical proceeded to take place in his living room with occasional exclamations and explanations from the "man in chair"—as his character was called. I was delighted to recognize two actors from tv and film: Georgia Engel, Robert's mother-in-law in Everybody Loves Raymond and Georgette in The Mary Tyler Moore Show, and also the "man in chair" himself, Jonathan Crombie who graced the Anne of Green Gables movies as Gilbert Blythe. Georgia Engel's best line with her softly delicate voice: "Poooooop." But my favorite line was Man in Chair's "Is this the person I'm supposed to pee with for the rest of my life?"

I'm so glad that live theater has survived the 20th century and not suffered the same sad fate as its doomed sister, musical films. I'm a big fan of choreographed tap-dancing, exaggerated expressions, and the philosophy of why say it when you can sing it? The cheesier the better. I'm looking forward to next month's production of High School Musical. (Seriously. Really excited about that one.)

Politics Make Me Uncomfortable

Ow. My foot is asleep and my shins are imprinted with red creases to match the form of my desk's edge. This is what happens when I try to do my American duty and research the presidential candidates of 2008. I've never been able to sit normally at a desk, so my twisted legs and squashed feet are not too happy with my decision to ignore their protests and remained glued to my computer screen.

I consider myself to be an open-minded conservative, so I went to the websites of both Obama and McCain. I discovered that both stand for things I agree with, and both stand for things that scare me. However, there is a bigger issue to consider that is not represented on either of their listed stances: web presence. Between the two there is one clear winner of my vote for the better website. I think that McCain's campaign has underestimated the importance of their web presence in this race. A quick YouTube search found 193,000 results for "Obama" and only 65,000 results for "McCain". Statistics show that people who are using the internet as the main source for their election news feel like they understand what is going on and that they have a say in how it turns out—in short, they sound like the type of people who actually get out and vote on election day. So if a candidate's website is unattractive and his web presence weak, how much of an effect will that have on his poll numbers?

Blogging, Writes, and KC Life

There are other ways of reading my blog besides coming to this website. You can subscribe to the RSS feed at the bottom of the page, or I can add you to a list of people who will get my new posts emailed to them. I know several of you received emails when I updated my Xanga blog, so I thought you might like that option here, too. Just send me your email address and I'll add you to that list.

I just thought of another great name for my blog: Writes of a Military Wife. Too late to change the name though. And after next year I won't have that military angle to my blog anyways. That's right, we only have about a year left with the Marines!

I wish Bryan could share all my Kansas City experiences. He said I should send him photos of everything I do and everywhere I go so he can picture my life here. (too easy pun) So today Flora and I went out with camera in tow and documented the following places that I frequent: two coffee shops within two miles of the house, a drive-through with the best frozen custard ever, the closest post office which happens to be in a strip mall, my new bank that I chose based on its attractive exterior, the convenient Quick Trip that highlights many a weekend with coffee and donuts, and the slightly overpriced hometown grocery store. It's not too exciting, but that's pretty much the extent of everything I do in KC. Eventually I'll have to get a picture of the Apple Store for him because I'm definitely dragging his PC booty into one of those. Maybe I'll call ahead so they can have an intervention prepared.

May 20—Happy Anniversary

Another anniversary, another absent husband. Saying it that way makes him sound like a deadbeat, but he's far from it. Our first anniversary he was stationed in Japan. Today, our second anniversary, he is deployed to Iraq. In the past 24 months of our marriage, we've only spent 8 months living together. That's two-thirds of our marriage that we've been separated against our wills. It sucks, but thank God for web cams! Despite our unusual situation we have a terrific relationship. (Thanks in large part to the five years of dating before the wedding.) Happy anniversary, Bryan! May we be ever as in love and never as separated as our first two years of marriage.

Today's Translations

What was said: "I don't hate it enough to custom order."
What I heard: "I don't hate it enough to cuss or murder."

What was said: "It's your dress destiny."
What I heard: "It's your dresstiny."

What was said: "Sara, you need a beer."
What I heard: "Sara, you need a beard."

Petition to Establish a Baby-Name Approval Committee

I just discovered an old church bulletin folded up in my desk drawer. These usually find their way to trash, but this one was worth keeping because of the notes I wrote on the back of it. Although I've been known to jot down key sermon phrases and insights of my own, this particular Sunday I was completely distracted by all the crazy names I found in the hymnal. (I know, slap my hand for not paying attention. It happens.) There were some real gems in there, and I spent nearly the whole service writing them down so I could share them with others. Here are just a few of the first names of people who contributed to the hymns in that book: Ethelbert, Horatius, Adoniram, Baynard, Judson, Elvina, Almeda, Folliott, Rigdon, and Sylvanus.

Recently my sister showed me a page from the newspaper with the names of all the babies born in the local hospital in 2007. It seems that unusual names are not just a thing of the past, but they're here to stay. Some of my favorites from the 2007 baby names were: Paradise, Dreamy, Fabiola, Fabian, Seraphina, Jericho, Tennessee, Gozlyn, and Heydy.

If any of these names belong to you or a relative, please do not take offense. Parents have the privilege of choosing any name for their baby, and I have some respect for people who stick to a name they like even after negative feedback from family and friends. Anyways, I named my pets oddly (Suki and Avee) so I might be the one someday who wants to name a child Ethelbert. But if that happens, please ambush me with an intervention for the sake of the child.

And I really hope that this "Dreamy" kid is a girl.

Scribbles are Overrated

What's so bad about coloring inside the lines? It seems that the trend now is to applaud those who recklessly color with abandon and pity those who contain themselves within the lines. I don't know who first told me to stay inside the lines--probably my big sister--but I obeyed and I was very good at it. Occasionally creativity compelled me outside those lines when I decided that Minnie Mouse needed some flowers at her feet or that the little pony needed a pond and some hills in the background, but it was always very calculated and intentional.

The other day I decided to revive my youth with a coloring book and some crayons from the store. I set Flora down to watch me color. (She was fascinated, but she kept trying to convince me that those colorful sticks would serve a better purpose inside her mouth.) It was very relaxing to color again. But suddenly my fingers got a little too wild and a small loop of purple stretched just outside that little black line. I felt the instant guilt of ruining the perfect picture that I was working on. I can't help it. Call me a perfectionist or a control-freak, but I still like coloring inside the lines. I'm sure that small fact could explain a lot about me.

Regardless of your coloring habits around "the lines", I highly recommend spending $3 to experience the joys of coloring again. However, I do not recommend Crayola Glitter Crayons. They're pretty in theory, but not in functionality.

Take Me Out to the Ballgame David Cook!

This ranks as my best Kansas City experience so far. Yesterday American Idol finalist David Cook came to KC for his big "hometown visit". We all got tickets to the Royals game so we could hear him sing "Take Me Out to the Ballgame". I came prepared with my mental lists of Do's and Don'ts. DO ask David Cook to marry my friend in Africa (per her request). DON'T flash David Cook (per my husband's request). And DO take lots of pictures (because you wouldn't believe me otherwise).

Here are the occupants of Section 319, Row G, Seats 10-12. Not pictured: Chris Borkert.













I thought it necessary to also document that Jim Halpert is leading a double life as a professional baseball player.









Then came David Cook! Yaaaayyyy! Wait a minute, David what are you doing to your baseball cap? David, no! Nooooo...

Flora was definitely the most excited about seeing David Cook.










He sang. We screamed. I forgot about my mental list of Do's and Don'ts. It was the best 7th inning ever.

Eight Months in Iraq=Eight Months in KC

Kansas City. It's frigid. Avee and I do not like the cold. But I really enjoy living with my sister. I'd like it even better if Bryan were living here with me. Then it'd be like that cheesy spin-off of the Brady Bunch when Marcia and Jan lived in a house together with their husbands. But a sit-com life would be much better than a war-movie/Odyssey life. The role of Penelope is way overrated. More than anything though I'm really enjoying being just five minutes away from a Quick Trip. I get coffee there a few times a week. In the evenings we all watch American Idol or the latest season on dvd that my sister brought from the library (right now we have McGyver, Saved by the Bell, and Home Improvement). And on very special nights we all play Scrabble and drink Hard Mike's. Well, it really doesn't take a very special night to break out the Hard Mikes. I haven't done much shopping. Hopefully Stef and I will go to the plaza this weekend. I've been to their church twice, and I know I should be totally immersed in a ministry by now, but I'm not. I have no good excuse for that. I'm quite the sourpuss at church b/c it makes me miss Bryan a lot more. Maybe I'll volunteer for the nursery sometime. Kids are a lot easier to befriend than grown-ups.

Xanga: June 6, 2007: Upon Leaving DaySpring

Dear DaySpring,

It's been a long five years together, but I think we're finally moving in different directions. We've come a long way since those early days when I only gave you 12 hrs a week and you only gave me a closet desk and endless keywording. And remember that day when we decided to go steady full-time? You loved me enough to rescue me from the temp agency and give me a few drawers at your place. I'll always remember the special times we had together. That time you took me to the CPS Print Show, the smoked turkey you gave me every Christmas, and the occasional design jobs from Gifts.

But it wasn't all turkeys and print shows. You were so afraid of commitment, it took you three years to offer me a permanent place in your life. You often overlooked me and took me for granted, and I'm pretty sure you tried to poison me with that coffee in the break room. I'll try to only remember all the good things, but I know I'll think of you every time my carpal tunnel flares up.

So this is the end of the road. I know it hurts now, but you'll get on just fine without me, and eventually you'll even forget about me. You can still call me from time to time if you want to give me design jobs, but please don't bring up any non-design work. That part of my life is over, and you need to let me move on.

Fondly,
Sara K.

Xanga: April 24, 2007: Survive the Workplace

How to Survive the Workplace

1. Know that there will always be someone who dresses nicer than you every day. Likewise, there will always be someone who dresses worse. Don't fret over bad hair days or bad outfit days. They happen, and they'll be forgotten.

2. We all fall prey to this one, but do not--I repeat--do not become attached to any writing utensil! They're an unfaithful breed who will walk away from you at the first opportunity. Become attached to them and you'll find yourself saying, "Is that my pen you're using? I used to have one like that; it was my favorite. Did you steal my pen??" uh... awkward.

3. The standard free office coffee generally tastes like dog food. You want to become a part of the secret underground coffee club at work. I guarantee every office has such a club and that they're hiding a beautiful, dark Ethiopian blend somewhere in the building. I'm not making this stuff up. If you suspect you've found a club member, use words like "fair trade", "my espresso maker", and "bur grinder". Complain enough about the break-room coffee and you'll be invited to the club.

4. Join up with one or two people and institute Rude Fridays. On Rude Friday do your best to be cynical and insulting. This works best when the cynicism and insults are obviously in jest. You should also make sure you do it with someone as sweet and soft-spoken as Mel; that makes it extra-funny. It's a great way to relieve stress and makes for very fun Fridays.

Xanga: April 18, 2007: Why I Blog

My Bryan said:
"I would fall in love with you even if I had never met you, just from reading your xanga posts. I love them cause they are entirely you. Everything about you is contained in them. I feel like I'm sitting in the room talking to you when I read them."

Often I question the worth of continuing xanga when only a few people read it, but if I can make my husband thousands of miles away feel like he's sitting in a room talking with me, well, that makes it all worth it. This one (and every one after) is for you, Sweetie! *mmwaa!*

And here's a special Happy Citrus shout-out to the lady at work who went to Sonic today and brought me back a lemon-berry slush. Spectacular.

Xanga: October 4, 2006: Daddy's Kisses

The scene: A father and daughter in a college art gallery on opening night. The role of the daughter will be played by Sara and the role of the father will be played by Daddy.

Daddy: (whispers) "What do you think that guy would do if I kissed him right now?"

Sara: (looks at the group of students and both wonders which guy he's talking about and why in the world he's asking her this question)

Daddy: (a mischeivous grin)

Sara: "???"

Daddy: (realizes Sara is wondering why in the world he's asking her this question) "His shirt..."

Sara: (realizes the several moments of trying to figure out Daddy's comment was wasted because the latino guy's shirt quite obviously says "Kiss me I'm Irish")

Daddy & Sara: "lol"
.

Xanga: Sept 2, 2006: Laptop Suicide

Sadly, I regret to inform you that this morning at 10:34 a.m. Mac dropped off the coffee table in a gruesome suicide attempt. I was not immediately alarmed as Mac has jumped off this ledge before and escaped without harm (he tries to follow me whenever I walk away, no doubt suspicious of my relationship with the PC in the other room). However, today was different. After the fall (which was a slow 15-inch drop) I picked him up and quickly realized that this was not just another attempt to follow me into the other room. Mac had strategically landed with all his small weight on his power supply plug; it was a blatant attack on his own life. If you can stomach the gorey details, the metal cylindrical frame of his plug was bent out in two directions and the rod inside was broken. On Mac himself, his aluminum frame was dented next to the power outlet and the rod inside the outlet was also broken. At the present time, Mac is still in critical condition.

Please send your flowers and notes for Mac to my address and I'll make sure he gets them. I'll also see that he gets counseling for his jealousy after he is fully recovered from this ordeal.

.

Xanga: May 9, 2006: Post-JBU Goals

No more JBU. Here are my new goals to keep myself from becoming brain-dead after college:

• Become an Adobe Certified Expert. The tests for this are really hard, but I'm up for the challenge just to have that title. I think I'll start with the InDesign test.

• Read Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance. Since the dustcover is in my portfolio I should have some thoughtful thing to say about it when I show it to potential employers.

• Cook dinner twice a week. I think it's best to approach this cooking thing slowly.

• Join a Bible study or home cell group with somebody I don't like. It will force me to find some good in them and maybe even help me grow spiritually.

• Read a book about Okinawa/Japan. Ideally this would be done at Barnes & Noble over a cup of Marbled Mocha Macchiato *before* I move there. (Move to Japan, not B & N)

• Train for a 5k. It's been way too long since I've done one of those. Right now I can only run a single puny mile. Anyone want to do this one with me?

• Keep in touch with friends. It's sad, but this has been really hard for me in the past. Kinda like Xanga, I pretend we're still involved, but the reality is I haven't updated since I can't remember when.

• Be on a reality tv show. I don't think this will better me in any way, but it would be nice to have a room redecorated or my ride pimped. American Idol also could be fun. Maybe they'd like me if I did all my performances rolling around on the floor.

• Write a book. This book will either be about graphic design, long-distance relationships, or how stupid, unfair, ridiculous, perverted, and dominating a certain branch of the military is. Right now I'm leaning toward graphic design.

• Sell photos on iStock.com. Freakin' harder than it sounds.

• Convince a lady at work that I'm better than her at everything and I know infinitely more than she does. That would be nice. Maybe then I'd get some r-e-s-p-e-c-t.

• Become ambidextrous, really. I've been working on this one for about a year and a half now. I'm convinced it can be a learned trait.

• Work somewhere other than DS. It's just like Siloam. A great and wonderful place to be, but it sucks you in and eventually you have the urge to get as far away from it as you can.
.

Xanga: Dec 5, 2005: Personal Quirks

I've been Xanga-tagged so now I have to create a list of my personal quirks. Here goes:

1) I'm scared of ocean waves.

2) I had braces but never wanted them. When I was in junior high I bluntly told my dentist that God made my teeth crooked and if he wanted them straight then he could do it without braces.

3) Almost a year ago I decided I should be ambidextrous. I began taking notes in class and at work with my left hand. Now I can easily write with both hands, though my right is still more fluid. Side effect: slight dyslexia.

4) I get the urge to use the undo key command in life (control/command + z). Like if I set down a paper in the wrong place my mind tells my fingers to click the undo sequence.

5) My thumbs are double-jointed. I can make them move funny.

6) I have a gift for always choosing the wrong line to get in. If there's a line that's destined to move slower than all others—I'll find it.

7) There are only two books that I have read more than once: Pride & Prejudice and A Horse Called Lightning.

8) Sometimes I get hot chocolate at work just because I like the sound that the machine makes.

Rough Draft

This blog is a test; it is only a test. If it were a real blog, it would contain wit, allegories, and voluntary comments. Do not be alarmed. This test is brief, and will be followed by real, actual blogs. Please stayed tuned.