My Oriole boyfriend Brian Roberts has hit two grand slam home runs in the last week. And notice that he also wears his pants the cute way--in the old style of baseball uniforms. Go Brian!
Paul McCartney, 60, and his wife, Heather Mills, 34, are going to have a baby this year. I can't imagine. But I'm happy for her; her odds of getting pregnant at all were apparently not very good. So congrats, Sir Paul! He already has 3 children of his own, and 1 stepdaughter (who, at 39, is 4 years Heather's senior). His son James is my age. Excellent...
It’s very odd moving but staying in the same area. I’m still taking the Metro to work, even using the same station. On Tuesday, when I got off the train, I found it very odd that I wasn’t going to the house. It was a lot easier to imagine going there and settling in for the night than picturing going to the apartment. Last night, I got the same pang. It was like I wasn’t going the right way. But the pang was less than it had been. I imagine that tonight it will be even less, and by next week, it’ll be mostly gone. I mean, I certainly don’t get upset when I see my old apartment.
I’m trying to remember how it was when I was in high school. After my freshman year, we moved from a house to an apartment for a year. I was in the same town and went to the same high school, participated in the same activities. But it was different. Mostly because not only was I in a different space, but also my father and sister were both gone. I don’t think I was too upset. It was just…different. A change.
The apartment is good (except for the oven problems). It’s lovely and bright and open and full of boxes. The house is now almost completely empty. The only things I still have there are my broom, dustpan, and brush. I may need to paint my room, but I’m hoping I won’t. It was odd walking around there; I was brought back to when we first moved in. Well, it was a (mostly) good 20 months.
Current song in my head:
“Gettin Jiggy Wit It” by Will Smith
The last real sunny day we had was April 28. A month ago. Sure, there have been moments of sun, glimpses, peeks of the sun. But no sunny days. And we probably won't see one until next week. Which means that the entire month of May was gloomy. The average high temperature in May here is 75; this year, it was 68. I think God is laughing at us.
I feel approximately a billion times better than I did when I wrote the previous entry. Turns out that I’m not a complete idiot or a failure. I didn’t do anything wrong. The cover of the book isn’t wrong. The listing for the book in our online store is wrong. The author saw that info, freaked, and convinced us that the cover was wrong. Nope. The cover is right. The title page is right. The only thing that’s wrong in online and is easily, and cheaply, fixable. Heh. Yeah, I feel a lot better.
I am the biggest idiot ever. I feel like such a complete failure right now. My first big project. The book is at the printer. And I forgot to check the authors’ credentials. Holy God, I could not be more stupid. Of course they’re wrong. And it’s not that I left something out. That would’ve been fine. Nope, I included a wrong credential. And the book is at the printer! I don’t know what we’re going to do. It has a print run of 5000. If we can fix it—and I don’t know that we can—it would cost a fortune. I feel sick. Like, physically sick. And I want to cry.
In happier news, all of my stuff (with the exception of cleaning supplies) has been moved from the house to the apartment. Yay! True, I have bruises all over my arms and legs, but I’m done. Done! The apartment is lovely and shiny and happy, and I’m enjoying my new bed. Now I just have to put everything away. *sigh*
I hope everyone had a lovely Memorial Day. I got to have a hamburger, courtesy of Wendy’s (where you can also buy individual biscuits). Not quite as good as the traditional cookout, but it tasted pretty yummy. Looking back, I feel like I haven’t had a “real” Memorial Day since 1994. That year I marched in the Memorial Day parade, then went and hung out with a friend’s family at her house, we went to the local lake, and I went home and did homework. It was a lovely, lovely day, and each year since then, I’ve wished I could just do that do over again. But sadly, that’s not how life works.
Current song in my head:
“Tell Me Why” by the Beatles
At Heathrow Airport today, an individual, later discovered to be a public school teacher, was arrested trying to board a flight while in possession of a compass, a protractor, and a graphical calculator. Authorities believe he is a member of the notorious Al-Gebra movement. He is being charged with carrying weapons of math instruction.
This is pathetic. Carrie and I got into our apartment last night and we started bring some stuff over. I didn’t bring much over. My arms? Are sore. Not excessively, but they don’t appreciate what I did to them. And I’ve barely begun! This is so sad. Of course, I did bring Heavy Box over last night (the one I intelligently filled with my hardcover texts and dictionaries). Not that that compares to how much my entertainment center or dresser weighs. Ugh. Moving sucks. And I have too much stuff. I have four boxes that are just videos and DVDs. Six boxes of books—and I’m only maybe 2/3 done with my book packing. I wish I had magical powers and could just levitate this stuff. Moving would be SO much easier.
Current song in my head:
“Build Me Up Buttercup” by the Foundations
Okay, DC needs to realize that it isn’t Oregon. It’s not supposed to rain this much. This month we’ve had maybe a half dozen sunny days. This is just wrong, I tell you. And there’s not a sunny day in the long-term forecast. Well, that’s going to make moving fun.
So last night was the final Buffy. Stop reading if you haven’t watched the episode yet. I thought it was a pretty good ending for the show. A lot of the interaction between the Scoobies was good—a definite improvement on the way they’ve been lately (and when I say “lately,” I mean “since season 4”). The one time I got choked up was the moment when it was just Buffy, Giles, Xander, and Willow standing in the halls of Sunnydale High. The dialogue seemed a bit forced, but it was very much vintage Buffy. And the repetition of Giles’s line from “The Harvest” was great (“The Earth is [definitely] doomed”).
I really liked the spreading of the Slayer powers. The show couldn’t end, in my opinion, with Buffy being the only one. It needed to end with her being able to go off and live her life on her own terms. And this allowed her to keep her powers, but also give her a lot more choice in life. So I thought it was a very good solution.
I also liked the way they handled the Angel/Buffy/Spike triangle. It left it open enough that Buffy/Angel ‘shippers would be happy…but so would Buffy/Spike ‘shippers. Of course, it’ll be interesting what happens on Angel now. They basically established that yep, what Buffy and Angel have is True Love. Will Angel still have his sick and so very wrong thing with Cordelia?
Anyway, I thought the finale was a good way to end the show. But just because I thought this episode was decent doesn’t erase my bitterness from the crap they’ve been pulling on us for the past few seasons. Joss gave me some good storytelling and Scooby moments; but that doesn’t make me forget that we haven’t seen anything like that for a very long time.
Current song in my head:
“Every Little Thing She Does is Magic” by the Police
I’m feeling pretty good. Packing is going along fairly well. I mean, yeah, I have far too much stuff. Like way, way too much stuff. But last night I went through and pulled out three boxes of stuff that I just had stored away, went through it, threw a bunch of stuff out, put a bunch of stuff aside to give to Goodwill, and managed to consolidate those boxes into one (okay, one box with some stuff left over). I’m bringing home a bunch of boxes from work, which is helpful. I spent four hours yesterday stuffing tote bags for our conference. Woo. But it does add up to a LOT of empty boxes. And I had some lovely dreams this morning involving running into Colin Firth in a California Pizza Kitchen. He was very nice. But my stupid alarm clock woke me up from this. Twice. Bastard.
Current song in my head:
“Before We Say Goodbye” by 2Gether
From The Washington Post
Les Mis closed on Broadway last night after 6680 performances. Sniff.
Gettysburg College was left $14 million to create a music conservatory. It'll be interesting to see how that goes. Good to see the support of the arts.
And Entertainment Weekly did a story on this guy maybe a month ago. Hmm.
What if Lord of the Rings: Fellowship of the Ring played out like an episode of The Amazing Race? It would kick ass, that's for sure.
I'm doing much better now. I'm a bit sleepy, but am content. I just ate a Dove ice cream bar. Mmm.
I’m cranky. I don’t know why. I was fine this morning. I think it’s when I was sitting here, trying to read or something, and all of these people just kept talking. Loudly. In the hallway. Not bothering to go to someone’s office. True, I wasn’t working on anything that really required concentration, but it still annoyed me. Then I was getting pestered about stupid things—namely, that an editor hadn’t received payment for editing the book. Am I in charge of this book? No. Am I psychically able to know when the editors should be paid? No. If they needed to be paid, tell me. And don’t say, “Next tell [you’ll] let [me] know.” There is no next time. This is the last book I’m doing your admin on. I’ll keep doing the administrative crap for my books. But nobody else’s. Let’s see how you do, trying to coordinate contracts, and payments, and comp copies. Good luck! Also, people, please stop asking me where Leslie is. I don’t keep track of her. I don’t keep track of anyone but myself. If she’s gone, I might know where she is. I might not. And don’t look pissed when I say that I don’t know where she is. It’s not my fault she’s not at her desk. And I’ve been getting irrationally angry at the Internet for not loading certain sites fast enough. Yes, repeatedly pounding the “Refresh” key was involved.
To sum up: Leave me alone. If in doubt, don’t talk to me right now. I’m sure I’ll be good tonight, when I have my Spotlight on Theater (fingers crossed that the cute lead in As You Like It will be there) and my book club. Those will perk me up. But for now? Back off.
Oh, and I forgot. Please stop talking to yourself. I know that I do it on occasion, but I limit it to when I’m by myself. There’s a reason for that.
The escalator in the Bethesda Metro stop is very, very long. I generally don’t walk up it, but a lot of in-shape people do. And there’s this one guy who, as he walks up, says, “Good morning!” and “Have a good day!” to everyone as he passes. It totally threw me off the first time it happened; now I enjoy it. Combine that with the strains of the “Ode to Joy” wafting down from the trumpet player at the top of the escalator, and it makes a nice morning. The trumpet player, by the way, is fairly amusing. He isn’t too good; for each song, he has maybe a line or two of it down really pat, then sort of fudges the rest. But he’s pretty good at “Amazing Grace.”
I had a new experience today. I was going over pages when Chris comes up to me and asks if I want to go to lunch with some printers. “Sure!” I said, realizing this means Free Lunch. It was…interesting. I mean, the sales pitch was overly long and tedious, but I got a delicious salad out of it. Mmm. And the salesmen were nice enough. I mean, they have to be. But they weren’t excessively sleazy. And I have enough salad left over for another meal. Yay!
In work news, other than bluelines, I’m completely done with two of my three projects. And I should be done with the third either today or tomorrow. This week has actually been blessedly quiet. And by quiet, I mean, I only had to do light proofs of the three projects.
But now I need to get working on finishing my final for my class. Last class is tonight. I enjoyed the class, but will be glad to be home to watch the series finale of Buffy next week.
Current song in my head:
“The Wonder of You” by Elvis
So last night I was on my way home from Brent’s, where I had spent an enjoyable evening. It was like 1:30 in the morning, and I’m cruising along University Blvd. in the pouring rain. And for some reason, there’s a police car blocking the road ahead of me. Okay. So I can’t take University onward. And I have no idea how to bypass that stretch. So I start tooling around the side roads, hoping it will be an easy process. Nope. There’s a large succession of cul-de-sacs, dead ends, and roads that just wander around aimlessly. And a large train of cars navigating them. In the pouring rain. At 1:30 a.m. And these people kept following me. I don’t know why. I was just as lost as them. It was kind of amusing, actually, though also frustrating. So the trip, which is normally about 20 minutes, took about 45 minutes. Argh.
Current song in my head:
“Hit ‘Em Up Style” by Blu Cantrell
1. Would you consider yourself an organized person? Why or why not?
Yes, definitely. Why am I organized? Because life is much easier if I know where everything is. Because I'm half-German and/or anal? I don't know. Plus, rooms look a million times better when everything's neat and in its place.
2. Do you keep some type of planner, organizer, calendar, etc. with you, and do you use it regularly?
I actually don't. I have a calendar at home and one at work, but I don't have them with me all the time. I generally have a pretty good idea what my plans are. But I do record things on my calendars, e.g., I always note when I see movies, and whom I see them with.
3. Would you say that your desk is organized right now?
Yes. I have a stack of things to deal with, but it's all in order.
4. Do you alphabetize CDs, books, and DVDs, or does it not matter?
Oh yes. Completely alphabetized. My books are not only alphabetized, but shelved by genre. Welcome to my world!
5. What's the hardest thing you've ever had to organize?
Other than my life? Probably the filing at work. It's just crazy. It's an ongoing project.
I’m doing better today. Still kind of freaking about getting stuff out and really hoping I won’t have to come into work tomorrow, but doing better. It helps that I lost 2 pounds this week. I still have no confidence in my copyediting abilities, but that’s neither here nor there. It just proves to me that I shouldn’t quit my job to do freelance copyediting. Of course, it couldn’t be any worse than the person who copyedited one of the other documents. And we paid her for that. Well, I got paid, too, but…never mind. I’m not so good with the articulating this morning. Or at all. I’ll be quiet now.
Current song in my head:
“Please Mr. Postman” by the Beatles
In very happy news, The Amazing Race returns on May 29 at 8 with a 90 minute premiere. Yay! I just hope TWoP is still around this summer. TAR (and Big Brother, really) just wouldn't be the same without it.
Anyway, I'm tired. I don't really know why. I had a good weekend that involved a lot of sleep. But for some reason, I've just been drained the past couple of days. And the thing is, I can't take a day off this week, because I have three books that all need to be out by Conference (June 5), and I have two sets of pages sitting on my desk (metaphorically; one is on my desk, the other is in my in-box). I think my problem is that I don't see any real respite in the near future. I move in two weeks and I haven't started packing, and I need to change my address with approximately 50 million people and places. My class ends next week (and I've really loved the class), but that means I have to do the final. I switched weekends at the Smithsonian so I'd have Memorial Day weekend off (so I could unpack without having to worry about heading downtown), so that's Saturday. Sunday I technically have open, but again, I have a lot of other stuff going on. I just really hope I don't have to take any of this work stuff home. And next Saturday is my "check-out" tour for the First Ladies tour, so I need to refresh my memory of that and try not to get too nervous about it.
And yesterday I was really bad, eating-wise. I had apple cobbler with lunch, and last night I was just very tired after class, and I had a Krispy Kreme donut on my drive home. I've been trying to watch my weight and I was really good last fall, but dude, this whole year (January through now) has been pathetic. I've managed to keep my weight the same as it was, which is good (I'm not gaining, at least), but I'd like to keep with that losing trend. But I've lost all willpower. Pathetic.
But it was good seeing my mom a couple of weeks ago, and I'm looking forward to going to Oregon next month and relaxing. Really, once I get to June 9, I'll be good. Conference? Done. Moving? Done. Summer? Quiet. Excellent.
Current song in my head:
"The Remedy (I Won't Worry)" by Jason Mraz
New Hampshire’s Old Man of the Mountain fell on Saturday. Very sad. It was even on their state quarter. The before and after pictures are upsetting. I’m just kind of sad I never got to see it. Though it’s not like it was one of my priorities in life.
1776 was very good. Ben Franklin wasn’t fantastic, but he was serviceable. The John Adams was the hottest John Adams ever (though he was too tall for the part; he was taller than Jefferson). And Tom Jefferson? Also very nummy. True, we were surrounded by an annoying school group for the first act (who luckily disappeared during the second act), but once the lady next to me told them to shut up, they quieted down (mostly). Very enjoyable, overall. Sad note, though; Peter Stone, who wrote the book for 1776, died on April 26.
And Alias last night. Oh, Alias. So many questions left unanswered. So many hearts broken. Vaughn, how could you? You’d think he would wait for more than two years. I mean, hello! And I thought last year’s season finale was bad, with all the questions it left hanging. This year? A million times worse. Throughout the show, I kept saying, “This is the best show ever!” At the end? I was yelling, “I HATE this show!” at the tv. But hate in a good way.
Current song in my head:
“I’ll Follow the Sun” by the Beatles
Aaron Sorkin and Thomas Schlamme are leaving The West Wing. I have absolutely no idea how the show is going to do after this. I mean, Sorkin wrote practically every script, and one of the greatest things about that show is the dialogue. True, other writers have been contributing more and more this season, but I still find it odd and minorly upsetting. It will be interesting to see how next season plays out.
