Happy birth day Delaney! 11-20-05
I drank too much caffeine last night (... which is why I'm posting at 6am)
Blogger ate the rest of my "101 things" list, so now I have to rewrite it. Grrrr!
The DC area had its first snow a couple nights ago. It was pretty enough. Plus, it was all gone by the next morning, which was the best part about it.
I'm in the middle of two books, and about to begin a third - none of which are listed in my "Books I'm Reading" sidebar.
I had tremendous good fortune in locating and purchasing a meat thermometer yesterday at the height of the "dammit, I forgot the ___" Thanksgiving grocery store rush. I guess sometimes good things do happen to bad people!
My new favorite product is Bare Minerals face powder.
Happy Black Friday!
Friday, November 25, 2005
Saturday, November 19, 2005
101 Things, Part I
The first installment of 101 insights into myself. (So divided because I'm afraid no one can really handle all that Marisa all at once...)
** I work with sperm cells.
** My high school graduation ceremony was held in front of the Giza Pyramids in Egypt.
** I love that I was raised moving all around overseas.
** I danced in a hula show.
** I've had to be rescued from a pool twice - once by a lifeguard and once by my fully-clothed mother.
** I worked as a lifeguard and a swim coach. The only kid I ever "saved" was a boy who got smacked in the face with a water polo ball. He got a bloody nose and freaked out. He was even in the shallow end.
** I came 13th in backstroke at the ISST Swim Championships in Brussels, Belgium.
** I met Dan Quayle when I was young and impressionable. Instead of just shaking his hand, I gave him a hug. He picked me up and put my on his shoulder.
** I played "I'll show you mine if you'll show my yours" with Dexter. He went first and I thought it was ugly so I ran away without fulfilling my end of the bargain. (Turns out it was just uncircumcised.)
** I have the perfect grandma. Her house smells like cookies and good food. She keeps a blanket on the back of the couch and back issues of Reader's Digest on the coffee table.
** I am a candle nazi.
** In my opinion, reality TV has never never surpassed the initial drama of Temptation Island.
** I had surgery in March. The resident anesthesiologist was really, really, really hot. Really. I hope I didn't say anything to that effect when I was drugged up.
** The hottest guy I have ever seen was a firefighter responding to an alarm in my lab in full SCBA gear.
** I jumped into the Red Sea at the stroke of midnight on New Year's Eve 1993 and again in 1994.
** I am most at peace when I am by or in a body of water.
** Whenever I hear the word "spelunking", I think about the time at the beach that I was jumping up and down excitedly and I knocked my Dad's contact out of his eye.
** I had a crush on Nick P. in 9th grade, and I actually felt a little bad when I beat him in one of the tournaments at the Guatemala Arts Festival that year. I knew he wanted to win, and I'd have settled for second place.
** I'm a giver.
** I developed a crush on almost all of my middle and high school science teachers.
** ...Except for Mr. Cundiff. I hated that bastard!
** I have a chronic and weird condition, Erythema nodosum, in which I develop red nodes of inflammation on the fronts of my calves. My first outbreak was in middle school, and ever since then, a few will spontaneously appear and disappear every now and then.
** I wore braces for three years. I think I still have my retainers in a box in the attic.
** When I babysat for Genny, her mother dropped me off at my dorm and said "I'm sorry, I forgot your money on the table." When I said, "that's OK," (thinking I could just swing by and pick it up later) she thought I meant that's OK, you don't have to pay me. I didn't correct her.
** The first cassette tape I bought myself was Sinead O'Connor - I Do Not Want What I Haven't Got. The first VHS was Undercover Blues.
** I work with sperm cells.
** My high school graduation ceremony was held in front of the Giza Pyramids in Egypt.
** I love that I was raised moving all around overseas.
** I danced in a hula show.
** I've had to be rescued from a pool twice - once by a lifeguard and once by my fully-clothed mother.
** I worked as a lifeguard and a swim coach. The only kid I ever "saved" was a boy who got smacked in the face with a water polo ball. He got a bloody nose and freaked out. He was even in the shallow end.
** I came 13th in backstroke at the ISST Swim Championships in Brussels, Belgium.
** I met Dan Quayle when I was young and impressionable. Instead of just shaking his hand, I gave him a hug. He picked me up and put my on his shoulder.
** I played "I'll show you mine if you'll show my yours" with Dexter. He went first and I thought it was ugly so I ran away without fulfilling my end of the bargain. (Turns out it was just uncircumcised.)
** I have the perfect grandma. Her house smells like cookies and good food. She keeps a blanket on the back of the couch and back issues of Reader's Digest on the coffee table.
** I am a candle nazi.
** In my opinion, reality TV has never never surpassed the initial drama of Temptation Island.
** I had surgery in March. The resident anesthesiologist was really, really, really hot. Really. I hope I didn't say anything to that effect when I was drugged up.
** The hottest guy I have ever seen was a firefighter responding to an alarm in my lab in full SCBA gear.
** I jumped into the Red Sea at the stroke of midnight on New Year's Eve 1993 and again in 1994.
** I am most at peace when I am by or in a body of water.
** Whenever I hear the word "spelunking", I think about the time at the beach that I was jumping up and down excitedly and I knocked my Dad's contact out of his eye.
** I had a crush on Nick P. in 9th grade, and I actually felt a little bad when I beat him in one of the tournaments at the Guatemala Arts Festival that year. I knew he wanted to win, and I'd have settled for second place.
** I'm a giver.
** I developed a crush on almost all of my middle and high school science teachers.
** ...Except for Mr. Cundiff. I hated that bastard!
** I have a chronic and weird condition, Erythema nodosum, in which I develop red nodes of inflammation on the fronts of my calves. My first outbreak was in middle school, and ever since then, a few will spontaneously appear and disappear every now and then.
** I wore braces for three years. I think I still have my retainers in a box in the attic.
** When I babysat for Genny, her mother dropped me off at my dorm and said "I'm sorry, I forgot your money on the table." When I said, "that's OK," (thinking I could just swing by and pick it up later) she thought I meant that's OK, you don't have to pay me. I didn't correct her.
** The first cassette tape I bought myself was Sinead O'Connor - I Do Not Want What I Haven't Got. The first VHS was Undercover Blues.
Thursday, November 10, 2005
To the Shores of Tripoli
Happy 230th, US Marine Corps!
Thank you, Devil Dogs, for the sacrifice of your service.
Thank you, Devil Dogs, for the sacrifice of your service.
Wednesday, November 09, 2005
Saturday, November 05, 2005
Why I Don't Trust Walruses
It occurred to me that perhaps I should create a post giving credit to my blog's namesake. So without further ado, I post:
The Walrus and The Carpenter
-Lewis Carroll
The sun was shining on the sea,
Shining with all his might:
He did his very best to make
The billows smooth and bright--
And this was odd, because it was
The middle of the night.
The moon was shining sulkily,
Because she thought the sun
Had got no business to be there
After the day was done--
"It's very rude of him," she said,
"To come and spoil the fun!"
The sea was wet as wet could be,
The sands were dry as dry.
You could not see a cloud, because
No cloud was in the sky:
No birds were flying overhead--
There were no birds to fly.
The Walrus and the Carpenter
Were walking close at hand;
They wept like anything to see
Such quantities of sand:
"If this were only cleared away,"
They said, "it would be grand!"
"If seven maids with seven mops
Swept it for half a year.
Do you suppose," the Walrus said,
"That they could get it clear?"
"I doubt it," said the Carpenter,
And shed a bitter tear.
"O Oysters, come and walk with us!"
The Walrus did beseech.
"A pleasant walk, a pleasant talk,
Along the briny beach:
We cannot do with more than four,
To give a hand to each."
The eldest Oyster looked at him,
But never a word he said:
The eldest Oyster winked his eye,
And shook his heavy head--
Meaning to say he did not choose
To leave the oyster-bed.
But four young Oysters hurried up,
All eager for the treat:
Their coats were brushed, their faces washed,
Their shoes were clean and neat--
And this was odd, because, you know,
They hadn't any feet.
Four other Oysters followed them,
And yet another four;
And thick and fast they came at last,
And more, and more, and more--
All hopping through the frothy waves,
And scrambling to the shore.
The Walrus and the Carpenter
Walked on a mile or so,
And then they rested on a rock
Conveniently low:
And all the little Oysters stood
And waited in a row.
"The time has come," the Walrus said,
"To talk of many things:
Of shoes--and ships--and sealing-wax--
Of cabbages--and kings--
And why the sea is boiling hot--
And whether pigs have wings."
"But wait a bit," the Oysters cried,
"Before we have our chat;
For some of us are out of breath,
And all of us are fat!"
"No hurry!" said the Carpenter.
They thanked him much for that.
"A loaf of bread," the Walrus said,
"Is what we chiefly need:
Pepper and vinegar besides
Are very good indeed--
Now if you're ready, Oysters dear,
We can begin to feed."
"But not on us!" the Oysters cried,
Turning a little blue.
"After such kindness, that would be
A dismal thing to do!"
"The night is fine," the Walrus said.
"Do you admire the view?
"It was so kind of you to come!
And you are very nice!"
The Carpenter said nothing but
"Cut us another slice:
I wish you were not quite so deaf--
I've had to ask you twice!"
"It seems a shame," the Walrus said,
"To play them such a trick,
After we've brought them out so far,
And made them trot so quick!
"The Carpenter said nothing but
"The butter's spread too thick!"
"I weep for you," the Walrus said:
"I deeply sympathize."
With sobs and tears he sorted out
Those of the largest size,
Holding his pocket-handkerchief
Before his streaming eyes.
"O Oysters," said the Carpenter,
"You've had a pleasant run!
Shall we be trotting home again?"
But answer came there none--
And this was scarcely odd, because
They'd eaten every one.
The Walrus and The Carpenter
-Lewis Carroll
The sun was shining on the sea,
Shining with all his might:
He did his very best to make
The billows smooth and bright--
And this was odd, because it was
The middle of the night.
The moon was shining sulkily,
Because she thought the sun
Had got no business to be there
After the day was done--
"It's very rude of him," she said,
"To come and spoil the fun!"
The sea was wet as wet could be,
The sands were dry as dry.
You could not see a cloud, because
No cloud was in the sky:
No birds were flying overhead--
There were no birds to fly.
The Walrus and the Carpenter
Were walking close at hand;
They wept like anything to see
Such quantities of sand:
"If this were only cleared away,"
They said, "it would be grand!"
"If seven maids with seven mops
Swept it for half a year.
Do you suppose," the Walrus said,
"That they could get it clear?"
"I doubt it," said the Carpenter,
And shed a bitter tear.
"O Oysters, come and walk with us!"
The Walrus did beseech.
"A pleasant walk, a pleasant talk,
Along the briny beach:
We cannot do with more than four,
To give a hand to each."
The eldest Oyster looked at him,
But never a word he said:
The eldest Oyster winked his eye,
And shook his heavy head--
Meaning to say he did not choose
To leave the oyster-bed.
But four young Oysters hurried up,
All eager for the treat:
Their coats were brushed, their faces washed,
Their shoes were clean and neat--
And this was odd, because, you know,
They hadn't any feet.
Four other Oysters followed them,
And yet another four;
And thick and fast they came at last,
And more, and more, and more--
All hopping through the frothy waves,
And scrambling to the shore.
The Walrus and the Carpenter
Walked on a mile or so,
And then they rested on a rock
Conveniently low:
And all the little Oysters stood
And waited in a row.
"The time has come," the Walrus said,
"To talk of many things:
Of shoes--and ships--and sealing-wax--
Of cabbages--and kings--
And why the sea is boiling hot--
And whether pigs have wings."
"But wait a bit," the Oysters cried,
"Before we have our chat;
For some of us are out of breath,
And all of us are fat!"
"No hurry!" said the Carpenter.
They thanked him much for that.
"A loaf of bread," the Walrus said,
"Is what we chiefly need:
Pepper and vinegar besides
Are very good indeed--
Now if you're ready, Oysters dear,
We can begin to feed."
"But not on us!" the Oysters cried,
Turning a little blue.
"After such kindness, that would be
A dismal thing to do!"
"The night is fine," the Walrus said.
"Do you admire the view?
"It was so kind of you to come!
And you are very nice!"
The Carpenter said nothing but
"Cut us another slice:
I wish you were not quite so deaf--
I've had to ask you twice!"
"It seems a shame," the Walrus said,
"To play them such a trick,
After we've brought them out so far,
And made them trot so quick!
"The Carpenter said nothing but
"The butter's spread too thick!"
"I weep for you," the Walrus said:
"I deeply sympathize."
With sobs and tears he sorted out
Those of the largest size,
Holding his pocket-handkerchief
Before his streaming eyes.
"O Oysters," said the Carpenter,
"You've had a pleasant run!
Shall we be trotting home again?"
But answer came there none--
And this was scarcely odd, because
They'd eaten every one.
Sunday, October 23, 2005
Missing...
One (1) intellect.
Fatigue? Apathy? Melancholy? Stupidity? I just can't seem to throw words together into a coherent sentence lately.
So if anyone should happen to see my creative genius wandering the streets unattended, would they kindly tell it that I miss it very much and direct it back here? Its really not used to being out on its own. I *shudder* to think what it might do if left to its own devices, unchaperoned by its trusty companions logic and maturity.
Funny thing is, I feel it swirling around my insides, taunting me. Just out of my grasp, stir crazy of sorts, ready to beat down the door of my body in order to get out and be expressed. (Much like the Huskies do when they miss a couple walks, now that I think about it!) It sits, poised, ready to strike, its muscles' twitching with anticipation. But I sit down to write/think/read/play music/even do yoga (!) and suddenly and without explanation, nothing happens. Its in there, I just can't get it to come out. Y'think they make a creativity Ex-Lax?
Fatigue? Apathy? Melancholy? Stupidity? I just can't seem to throw words together into a coherent sentence lately.
So if anyone should happen to see my creative genius wandering the streets unattended, would they kindly tell it that I miss it very much and direct it back here? Its really not used to being out on its own. I *shudder* to think what it might do if left to its own devices, unchaperoned by its trusty companions logic and maturity.
Funny thing is, I feel it swirling around my insides, taunting me. Just out of my grasp, stir crazy of sorts, ready to beat down the door of my body in order to get out and be expressed. (Much like the Huskies do when they miss a couple walks, now that I think about it!) It sits, poised, ready to strike, its muscles' twitching with anticipation. But I sit down to write/think/read/play music/even do yoga (!) and suddenly and without explanation, nothing happens. Its in there, I just can't get it to come out. Y'think they make a creativity Ex-Lax?
Wednesday, October 12, 2005
Life According to Google
I've seen this idea on some other people's blogs, and am searching for meaning in my life today, so I decided to visit the Oracle of Google hoping to gain knowledge. Enter "[your name] [some verb]" (ie: "Marisa wants", "Marisa likes") and search. Here are my favorites:
*Marisa likes toaster pastries and music. [Who doesn't?]
*Marisa likes red wine and white cowboys. [but not pink boys that whine]
*Marisa likes having power! [it gets spooky at night when the lights go out]
*Marisa will see if the department will fund us a dry erase calendar. [I do what I can]
*Marisa will meet Cesar, a man who will disappoint her. [et tu, Brute?]
*Marisa needs to tell him what really happened. [trust me, its better if he doesn't know]
*Marisa needs to come down to San Diego more. [agreed]
*Marisa needs prescription medication everyday. [the white ones silence the voices in my head; the red ones are for constipation]
*Marisa is amazing! [yea, but I try not to let it go to my head!]
*Marisa is a popular aquarium snail. [I think we already covered this in a previous post]
*Marisa is correct, but Marisa is also a pig. [meh! I'm rubber, you're glue...]
*Marisa has made it her mission to break down the walls of silence.[take *that*, silence!]
*Marisa has answers. [questions, anyone?]
*Marisa has one younger brother, Adam. [actually, his name is Blake. And he doesn't like being blogged about. Blake, Blake, Blake.]
*Marisa likes toaster pastries and music. [Who doesn't?]
*Marisa likes red wine and white cowboys. [but not pink boys that whine]
*Marisa likes having power! [it gets spooky at night when the lights go out]
*Marisa will see if the department will fund us a dry erase calendar. [I do what I can]
*Marisa will meet Cesar, a man who will disappoint her. [et tu, Brute?]
*Marisa needs to tell him what really happened. [trust me, its better if he doesn't know]
*Marisa needs to come down to San Diego more. [agreed]
*Marisa needs prescription medication everyday. [the white ones silence the voices in my head; the red ones are for constipation]
*Marisa is amazing! [yea, but I try not to let it go to my head!]
*Marisa is a popular aquarium snail. [I think we already covered this in a previous post]
*Marisa is correct, but Marisa is also a pig. [meh! I'm rubber, you're glue...]
*Marisa has made it her mission to break down the walls of silence.[take *that*, silence!]
*Marisa has answers. [questions, anyone?]
*Marisa has one younger brother, Adam. [actually, his name is Blake. And he doesn't like being blogged about. Blake, Blake, Blake.]
Sunday, October 09, 2005
Rant:
... Radio DJs who play U2's "Sunday, Bloody Sunday" every freakin' Sunday!! Yes, we get it -- the song says Sunday and today is Sunday. You're very clever. Now play something else, please.
Friday, October 07, 2005
Deep Thoughts
Does anyone else find it disconcerting that the blog spell checker doesn't recognize the word "blog"?
Just wondering ....
Just wondering ....
Thursday, October 06, 2005
Antedated Post
Sometimes it takes me awhile to draft and edit a post. Especially if the subject matter is something I feel passionately about, I can spend days pondering exactly how to phrase a sentence so that it says precisely what I want it to say. (Ok, so what .... I'm a perfectionist with OCD tendencies!)
When my opus is finally complete, I generally change the date so that it appears as the newest post on the blog, and I feel all warm and fuzzy for having posted recently. However, as with the post I just published, sometimes the subject matter is date sensitive, and it would throw everything all out of whack to have it published out of order. And that would be unacceptable! (See above OCD reference.)
All this is to say that I just posted on September 27. My first political post (hey, you can't live in Washington and remain neutral!) Read if you want, comment if you wish. But most importantly, have a great day today ... TGIF! Woo-hoooooo!!!
When my opus is finally complete, I generally change the date so that it appears as the newest post on the blog, and I feel all warm and fuzzy for having posted recently. However, as with the post I just published, sometimes the subject matter is date sensitive, and it would throw everything all out of whack to have it published out of order. And that would be unacceptable! (See above OCD reference.)
All this is to say that I just posted on September 27. My first political post (hey, you can't live in Washington and remain neutral!) Read if you want, comment if you wish. But most importantly, have a great day today ... TGIF! Woo-hoooooo!!!
Tuesday, October 04, 2005
66 SUCKS
Extra bonus kudos to the bright soul who penned the above moniker for use as his vanity license plate. As I and (approximately) 82,874 of my closest friends faced the hellacious eight lanes of bidirectional traffic that is Northern Virginia's Interstate 66, I spotted this plate and smiled. I (almost) didn't even mind that the driver was shooting his car across two lanes of traffic without using a turn signal. There, in plain stamped metal, was the manifestation of a thousand thoughts: 66 SUCKS. Nice alliteration, to boot!
Monday, October 03, 2005
Just for the Blog of it
Really nothing new to report, but I haven't posted in awhile so I'm logging on to say "booyah!"
I had a really great weekend. I DIDN'T WORK!!! ...Not a single day -- didn't carry the pager, didn't call to check in, didn't deal with a single work-related issue. Life, like the weather, was grand.
I went pumpkin picking on Saturday. I'll admit that I wasn't as jazzed about this as I thought I'd be. I was feeling quite grumpy and recluse when I woke up, but a little preemptive retail therapy cheered me right up. I ran home and changed into an orange v-neck tee and jeans, adorned my toesies with rings, and drove to the pumpkin farm, where I met a group of friends and acquaintances. I came home with the ass-kickingest pumpkin EVER!
Sunday brought with it more shopping (found an awesome coat at Nine West - yay!, went up a size in Gap jeans - boo!) and a movie. I saw "Lord of War" with Blake. It was higher on drama but lower on action than I expected (although with some impressive gore). I dug it. And I saw a preview for "Jarhead", which intrigued me.
So there you have it: five paragraphs of Life As I Know It.
...Booyah! (Six :D )
I had a really great weekend. I DIDN'T WORK!!! ...Not a single day -- didn't carry the pager, didn't call to check in, didn't deal with a single work-related issue. Life, like the weather, was grand.
I went pumpkin picking on Saturday. I'll admit that I wasn't as jazzed about this as I thought I'd be. I was feeling quite grumpy and recluse when I woke up, but a little preemptive retail therapy cheered me right up. I ran home and changed into an orange v-neck tee and jeans, adorned my toesies with rings, and drove to the pumpkin farm, where I met a group of friends and acquaintances. I came home with the ass-kickingest pumpkin EVER!
Sunday brought with it more shopping (found an awesome coat at Nine West - yay!, went up a size in Gap jeans - boo!) and a movie. I saw "Lord of War" with Blake. It was higher on drama but lower on action than I expected (although with some impressive gore). I dug it. And I saw a preview for "Jarhead", which intrigued me.
So there you have it: five paragraphs of Life As I Know It.
...Booyah! (Six :D )
Tuesday, September 27, 2005
Score One for Justice
Cindy Sheehan was arrested ysterday. She wore a huge idiot smirk on her face as police officers physically removed her from the scene. “Hee, hee, hee ... civil disobedience is so much fun ... [Toss of the hair] ... Gee, am I having a blast!” ...As if it was a senior prank.
Hats off to the U.S. Park Police, though. As officers in the spotlight, they know their actions will be scrutinized by their superiors, the general public, and the media brigade. They performed their duties flawlessly.
When the media first introduced me to Sheehan, my heart went out to her. I empathized over what it must be like to lose a loved one to war. I recognized her right to mourn in whatever manner soothed her. As soon as she realized she had the nations’ attention, though, she certainly shed the grieving mother persona and stepped into the role of political activist without batting an eye.
I am ashamed of her on behalf of her son. I would hope, that if I felt called to sacrifice my life for something I believed in, that my survivors wouldn’t turn around and mar my memory by taking a very public stand against it. She dishonors her son as well as his comrades who fought and fell by his side. Nobody hates war more than a soldier. But they are motivated to face that which they hate because they feel called to the duty of defense of their country, a duty which is wholly encompassing… theirs not to reason why. To debate the valiancy of that commitment, to stain the bigger picture their spirits carry, is the worst kind of demoralization, the most belittling insult.
"It is not the critic who counts: not the man who points out how the strong man stumbles or where the doer of deeds could have done better. The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena, whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood, who strives valiantly, who errs and comes up short again and again, because there is no effort without error or shortcoming, but who knows the great enthusiasms, the great devotions, who spends himself for a worthy cause; who, at the best, knows, in the end, the triumph of high achievement, and who, at the worst, if he fails, at least he fails while daring greatly, so that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who knew neither victory nor defeat." -- Theodore Roosevelt
Hats off to the U.S. Park Police, though. As officers in the spotlight, they know their actions will be scrutinized by their superiors, the general public, and the media brigade. They performed their duties flawlessly.
When the media first introduced me to Sheehan, my heart went out to her. I empathized over what it must be like to lose a loved one to war. I recognized her right to mourn in whatever manner soothed her. As soon as she realized she had the nations’ attention, though, she certainly shed the grieving mother persona and stepped into the role of political activist without batting an eye.
I am ashamed of her on behalf of her son. I would hope, that if I felt called to sacrifice my life for something I believed in, that my survivors wouldn’t turn around and mar my memory by taking a very public stand against it. She dishonors her son as well as his comrades who fought and fell by his side. Nobody hates war more than a soldier. But they are motivated to face that which they hate because they feel called to the duty of defense of their country, a duty which is wholly encompassing… theirs not to reason why. To debate the valiancy of that commitment, to stain the bigger picture their spirits carry, is the worst kind of demoralization, the most belittling insult.
"It is not the critic who counts: not the man who points out how the strong man stumbles or where the doer of deeds could have done better. The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena, whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood, who strives valiantly, who errs and comes up short again and again, because there is no effort without error or shortcoming, but who knows the great enthusiasms, the great devotions, who spends himself for a worthy cause; who, at the best, knows, in the end, the triumph of high achievement, and who, at the worst, if he fails, at least he fails while daring greatly, so that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who knew neither victory nor defeat." -- Theodore Roosevelt
Monday, September 26, 2005
Decaffeinated
As I begin my third day of caffeine abstinence, I have two thoughts...
1) its nice that my headache has downgraded from moderate to mild
2) a cup o' java sure would hit the spot right about now
1) its nice that my headache has downgraded from moderate to mild
2) a cup o' java sure would hit the spot right about now
Saturday, September 24, 2005
No, YOU'RE below average!!
So I took this "quick and dirty" IQ test. Easy-peesy. Sixteen questions to determine my self-worth and gauge my value as a human being. The verdict? My logical reasoning skills are (gasp!) "below average"!
{{Long silence as she gives her readers time to recover from the shock of what they just read}}
The nerve! Just who do they think they're calling below average?!?
Wanna know a little secret, though? Just between us pals here and the rest of the internet community? I think it rather intrigues me that I can't get the test to tell me I'm perfect (tho I would settle for "pretty darn good"!) Why? I have three theories:
I feel the pull to win over entities that are not immediately attracted to me. I guess this is the same way a pet dog or cat will ignore all the people in the room who are calling for it, and instead make a bee-line for the person who is afraid of, allergic to, or just plain doesn't like pets. There is one caveat to this, though. I am not generally one to sacrifice blood sweat and tears without observing some kind of gain from my investment.
Rather Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance-y, I make as much or as little effort as it takes to earn a result that I deem desirable. When given an assignment, I may perform what I believe to be my best. But if the ramifications of that assignment are below the bar I have set for myself, I'm going to find it within myself to try again harder -- better than my best -- until I am able to achieve an acceptable outcome. Sometimes I end up surpassing the original bar; sometimes I have to lower the bar. It depends on who I have allowed to play Judge.
Perhaps the test is right on cue. After all is said and done, it hasn't exactly been logical for me to sit here and analyze this. But I do it because, after having justified the test result, I feel better. Ahh, yes, feelings - the arch nemesis of logic. "Meh!" on you, IQ test! I'm not Spock, man! Maybe I don't particularly feel like being logical today ... so there!! Phhhbbt! :P
Your IQ Is 135 
Your Verbal Intelligence is Genius
Your Mathematical Intelligence is Genius
Your General Knowledge is Genius
Tuesday, September 13, 2005
N.S.M.I.E.
Today I coined the term NSMIE (EHN-smee): Non-Specific Malaise of Indeterminate Etiology. Coincidentally enough, I also diagnosed myself today with NSMIE.
In other news, I haven't got all the software reinstalled on the home computer yet. For some reason, my firewall isn't allowing Napster to access the internet. In the McAfee settings, the Napster program is allowed full access, and yet, Napster will not work when the firewall is enabled. Any suggestions from those of you smarter than me in matters such as this?
At least I got my "books" sidebar updated. *sigh* Simple victories.
In other news, I haven't got all the software reinstalled on the home computer yet. For some reason, my firewall isn't allowing Napster to access the internet. In the McAfee settings, the Napster program is allowed full access, and yet, Napster will not work when the firewall is enabled. Any suggestions from those of you smarter than me in matters such as this?
At least I got my "books" sidebar updated. *sigh* Simple victories.
Saturday, September 10, 2005
Back... (and now, virus free!)
Just got my computer back. Apparently, I caught a pretty nasty cyber-bug and had to get the entire hard drive wiped. Grrrrr... Now I begin the onerous task of reinstalling all of my software; goody, goody! I will post a real message a little later. Right now I am going to make the rounds and check up on everyone else. Oh yeah - and I have to update my books I'm reading sidebar. It's embarrassingly outdated.
Tuesday, August 30, 2005
Interview (for my fan club)
This post is credited to Justin...
Here are the rules:
1. If you want to participate, leave a comment below asking to be interviewed.
2. I will respond by asking you five questions - each person's will be different.
3. You will update your journal/blog with the answers to the questions.
4. You will include this explanation and an offer to interview others in the same post.
5. When others comment asking to be interviewed, you will ask them five questions.
1)Similar to the show "Quantum Leap", you are given a chance to jump back into your past, and change something you do. What do you change, and why?
When we were driving to Missouri the night we got the news that my grandfather died, I'd have sat in the back seat with my father. I'm not sure he would have necessarily wanted to talk or anything, but I could have held his hand or given him a hug, and made sure he knew that I was sad, too. Maybe I could have given him some comfort. I hope that he didn't feel alone.
2)You are placed in a small room. In this room, you are given everything you need to survive, but nothing to entertain you or occupy you. The only thing in this room is a red button. You are told that if you press this button, bad things will happen to other people. You belive the person who told you this. How long can you go without pushing the button?
I can't say that I'd feel a big draw to push the button. Not necessarily because I'm so incredibly altruistic; more because I can't see how pressing the button would really be a source of entertainment or occupation (since its not like I would be able to watch the outcomes.) It would be much harder for me if I had been told not to press the button, but not told why. Then I would have to fight the draw of my inquisitive curiosity. That being said, I'm pretty good at entertaining myself, so I think I could find ways to keep myself occupied, even without being given specific sources of entertainment. One can always find something to do if they are inventive enough.
3)What made you start blogging?
I think I was in need of a creative outlet. I enjoy writing, but don't really do it much. I like that I can post random musings and pearls of wisdom (I guess these are yet to come), and of course have the added benefit of letting people who know me keep updated with what's going on in my life.
4)When given "Truth or Dare" options, what makes you want to pick Dare over Truth?
I suppose I'd rather feel physically vulnerable or foolish than emotionally so.
5)What question were you really hoping I wouldn't ask? What was the answer to that question?
There really wasn't any one specific question that I feared. I was prepared to talk in circles around any question to which I didn't want to give a straight answer.
OK... your turn... leave me a comment to get your questions.
Here are the rules:
1. If you want to participate, leave a comment below asking to be interviewed.
2. I will respond by asking you five questions - each person's will be different.
3. You will update your journal/blog with the answers to the questions.
4. You will include this explanation and an offer to interview others in the same post.
5. When others comment asking to be interviewed, you will ask them five questions.
1)Similar to the show "Quantum Leap", you are given a chance to jump back into your past, and change something you do. What do you change, and why?
When we were driving to Missouri the night we got the news that my grandfather died, I'd have sat in the back seat with my father. I'm not sure he would have necessarily wanted to talk or anything, but I could have held his hand or given him a hug, and made sure he knew that I was sad, too. Maybe I could have given him some comfort. I hope that he didn't feel alone.
2)You are placed in a small room. In this room, you are given everything you need to survive, but nothing to entertain you or occupy you. The only thing in this room is a red button. You are told that if you press this button, bad things will happen to other people. You belive the person who told you this. How long can you go without pushing the button?
I can't say that I'd feel a big draw to push the button. Not necessarily because I'm so incredibly altruistic; more because I can't see how pressing the button would really be a source of entertainment or occupation (since its not like I would be able to watch the outcomes.) It would be much harder for me if I had been told not to press the button, but not told why. Then I would have to fight the draw of my inquisitive curiosity. That being said, I'm pretty good at entertaining myself, so I think I could find ways to keep myself occupied, even without being given specific sources of entertainment. One can always find something to do if they are inventive enough.
3)What made you start blogging?
I think I was in need of a creative outlet. I enjoy writing, but don't really do it much. I like that I can post random musings and pearls of wisdom (I guess these are yet to come), and of course have the added benefit of letting people who know me keep updated with what's going on in my life.
4)When given "Truth or Dare" options, what makes you want to pick Dare over Truth?
I suppose I'd rather feel physically vulnerable or foolish than emotionally so.
5)What question were you really hoping I wouldn't ask? What was the answer to that question?
There really wasn't any one specific question that I feared. I was prepared to talk in circles around any question to which I didn't want to give a straight answer.
OK... your turn... leave me a comment to get your questions.
Wednesday, August 24, 2005
Jersey Sojourn
On my way to where the air is sweeeeeet...
Oh wait, no! I'm going to Jersey! Why in the world would someone willingly spend time in New Jersey? Well it just so happens that a fair maiden resides there ... the fairest two year old in all the land. Now I'm not usually one to ga-ga over babies, but she is no ordinary child. I'll probably post a pic of her when I return, but I figure I'd better get mom-and-dad's permission first. After all, some of you people out there prowling around the world wide web are weirdos ... you know who you are!
I'm taking the train up, so I very well may have some additions to Monica's public transit manifesto.
And I have a special post planned for next week. So fear not, fair maids and maidens; fret not, strong men and old. Marisa will return. Hopefully not too worse for the wear for having spent time in New Jersey with a two year old.
Oh wait, no! I'm going to Jersey! Why in the world would someone willingly spend time in New Jersey? Well it just so happens that a fair maiden resides there ... the fairest two year old in all the land. Now I'm not usually one to ga-ga over babies, but she is no ordinary child. I'll probably post a pic of her when I return, but I figure I'd better get mom-and-dad's permission first. After all, some of you people out there prowling around the world wide web are weirdos ... you know who you are!
I'm taking the train up, so I very well may have some additions to Monica's public transit manifesto.
And I have a special post planned for next week. So fear not, fair maids and maidens; fret not, strong men and old. Marisa will return. Hopefully not too worse for the wear for having spent time in New Jersey with a two year old.
Friday, August 19, 2005
Me- My- Mo- Risa
Marisa.
I've always liked my name. Simple, but unique ... Marisa - 1R, 1S ... none of those silly double letters. What you see is what you get. I like that.
I had to call the bank a few days ago, as I am still playing the role of middle woman between the insurance company and the car leinholder after my October car accident. After verifying my personal information, but before I could tell her the purpose of my call, the friendly call taker commented on what a nice name I have. I could've done without the ensuing ten minute explanation of exactly why it she thought it was such a nice name, but I appreciated the sentiment.
When I learned Spanish, I realized my name is made up of two Spanish words: mar, meaning sea or ocean, and risa, meaning laughter. Now that is just plain cool.
I searched yahoo recently, wanting to see if it could find this blog if I entered "Marisa". I figured, it's not a terribly common name, so I wouldn't have too many entries to sort through. I was expecting the usual Marisa Tomei hits, and some random, unnotewothy references; but what I was not expecting was to find out that Marisa is a Genus name. No, not genius (true though that may be!) Genus ... as in Genus species ... as in high school biology.
Now that's kinda cool, one would think.
...One would think. Turns out Marisa is the Genus for two species of snails. Yes, snails. Now I know I'm a little short, but a snail? That puts me just a snip and a puppy-dog-tail away from a Y-chromosome. And since I'm usually covered in enough dog hair to comprise an entire dog, let alone the tail portion, the snail reference leaves me a little dispirited.
http://www.hostultra.com/~applesnails/marisa.htm
http://www.applesnail.net/content/marisa.htm
Always one to make the best out of any situation, I went searching for snail traits that one might find enviable. I searched through animal spirit guides, totem animals, and shamanism lore; I spent way more time than justifiable. This is what I found:
Snails are found in gardens, ponds and even the sea. Their soft bodies are protected by hard shells which they use as a defense. Those with this medicine know how to retreat when danger is present as well as seal themselves off from others. Knowing when to retreat and when to act is an important teaching for those with this totem.
The snail creates a slime trail to travel on so it is easier to move over different surfaces and textures. When snail appears in your life ask yourself if you are taking a harder path than is necessary. Because snail retreats into its shell during adverse weather conditions those with this medicine have the ability to build walls around themselves and withdraw until a situation improves.
Both male and female the snail can produce sperm and eggs at the same time. Because of this duality, those with this totem exhibit male and female characteristics that align and work together in a complimentary way.
Most active at night or on cloudy days the snail uses all of its senses equally and simultaneously. Those with this totem often find they seldom have one intuitive gift more pronounced than another as all psychic abilities are utilized in any given situation.
The snail understands the value of slow movement and teaches us how to use that movement to our advantage. It holds the teachings of patience, perseverance, determination and respect. It asks us to be mobile and fluidic as we move through life, always aware of how our actions or lack of them affect others. The trail we leave behind holds the history of who and what we are. Past situations come to the surface to be healed or balanced in some way. In this way spiritual growth is attained.
(http://www.sayahda.com/cycle.htm)
I've always liked my name. Simple, but unique ... Marisa - 1R, 1S ... none of those silly double letters. What you see is what you get. I like that.
I had to call the bank a few days ago, as I am still playing the role of middle woman between the insurance company and the car leinholder after my October car accident. After verifying my personal information, but before I could tell her the purpose of my call, the friendly call taker commented on what a nice name I have. I could've done without the ensuing ten minute explanation of exactly why it she thought it was such a nice name, but I appreciated the sentiment.
When I learned Spanish, I realized my name is made up of two Spanish words: mar, meaning sea or ocean, and risa, meaning laughter. Now that is just plain cool.
I searched yahoo recently, wanting to see if it could find this blog if I entered "Marisa". I figured, it's not a terribly common name, so I wouldn't have too many entries to sort through. I was expecting the usual Marisa Tomei hits, and some random, unnotewothy references; but what I was not expecting was to find out that Marisa is a Genus name. No, not genius (true though that may be!) Genus ... as in Genus species ... as in high school biology.
Now that's kinda cool, one would think.
...One would think. Turns out Marisa is the Genus for two species of snails. Yes, snails. Now I know I'm a little short, but a snail? That puts me just a snip and a puppy-dog-tail away from a Y-chromosome. And since I'm usually covered in enough dog hair to comprise an entire dog, let alone the tail portion, the snail reference leaves me a little dispirited.
http://www.hostultra.com/~applesnails/marisa.htm
http://www.applesnail.net/content/marisa.htm
Always one to make the best out of any situation, I went searching for snail traits that one might find enviable. I searched through animal spirit guides, totem animals, and shamanism lore; I spent way more time than justifiable. This is what I found:
Snails are found in gardens, ponds and even the sea. Their soft bodies are protected by hard shells which they use as a defense. Those with this medicine know how to retreat when danger is present as well as seal themselves off from others. Knowing when to retreat and when to act is an important teaching for those with this totem.
The snail creates a slime trail to travel on so it is easier to move over different surfaces and textures. When snail appears in your life ask yourself if you are taking a harder path than is necessary. Because snail retreats into its shell during adverse weather conditions those with this medicine have the ability to build walls around themselves and withdraw until a situation improves.
Both male and female the snail can produce sperm and eggs at the same time. Because of this duality, those with this totem exhibit male and female characteristics that align and work together in a complimentary way.
Most active at night or on cloudy days the snail uses all of its senses equally and simultaneously. Those with this totem often find they seldom have one intuitive gift more pronounced than another as all psychic abilities are utilized in any given situation.
The snail understands the value of slow movement and teaches us how to use that movement to our advantage. It holds the teachings of patience, perseverance, determination and respect. It asks us to be mobile and fluidic as we move through life, always aware of how our actions or lack of them affect others. The trail we leave behind holds the history of who and what we are. Past situations come to the surface to be healed or balanced in some way. In this way spiritual growth is attained.
(http://www.sayahda.com/cycle.htm)
I guess I can handle that...
Tuesday, August 16, 2005
The Only Day in Existence
The early sun is so pale and shadowy,
I could be looking up at a ghost
in the shape of a window,
a tall, rectangular spirit
looking down at me in bed,
about to demand that I avenge
the murder of my father.
But the morning light is only the first line
in the play of this day--
the only day in existence--
the opening chord of its long song,
or think of what is permeating
the thin bedroom curtains
I could be looking up at a ghost
in the shape of a window,
a tall, rectangular spirit
looking down at me in bed,
about to demand that I avenge
the murder of my father.
But the morning light is only the first line
in the play of this day--
the only day in existence--
the opening chord of its long song,
or think of what is permeating
the thin bedroom curtains
as the beginning of a lecture
I will listen to until it is dark,
a curious student in a V-neck sweater,
angled into the wooden chair of his life,
ready with notebook and a chewed-up pencil,
quiet as a goldfish in winter,
serious as a compass at sea,
eager to absorb whatever lesson
this damp, overcast Tuesday
has to teach me,
here in the spacious classroom of the world
with its long walls of glass,
its heavy, low-hung ceiling.
-- Billy Collins
I'm not entirely sure that I learned anything new today. I wonder what it was that I missed that this damp overcast Tuesday tried to teach me. I hope it wasn't anything too important. Is there a review at the end of life's lesson? Sometime before the final exam? If not, would someone please loan me their notes?
Tuesday, July 26, 2005
Not To Be Out-Blogged
My sister Monica started a blog.
A couple weeks ago, I told mom that I thought she (mom) should start one. I think it would be a great way for her to tell her prodigal kids (wait - if we're all here, and she's over there ... doesn't that make her the wayward one?) and friends of her daily goings-on in eastern Europe. I was waiting until I had a few more posts to have a coming-out... er, rather... blog-release announcement, but I shared the existence of my blog with mom in an effort to encourage her to create one for herself.
Although mom has yet to take my suggestion, she did share it with Monica, who engaged (hee hee, I'm so witty!) You can link to it from this page. So it seems that I, whose suggestion of "Speckle" as the name for the family dog was unanimously turned down, whose fashion sense was regularly ridiculed (I was just before my time!), and whose propensity for seeking out - and developing an allergic reaction to - strange and exciting flora and fauna impacted more than one family vacation; I can proudly claim responsibility for starting a family craze. This makes the fourth, as I am also crediting myself for introducing the webcam, the concept of butt-stamping, and the use of the word "meh".
All of that background was written as an explanation of this pledge: I intend to start posting more. My competitive fires are stoked and my literary creativity is incited.
...And I think mom should start a blog.
A couple weeks ago, I told mom that I thought she (mom) should start one. I think it would be a great way for her to tell her prodigal kids (wait - if we're all here, and she's over there ... doesn't that make her the wayward one?) and friends of her daily goings-on in eastern Europe. I was waiting until I had a few more posts to have a coming-out... er, rather... blog-release announcement, but I shared the existence of my blog with mom in an effort to encourage her to create one for herself.
Although mom has yet to take my suggestion, she did share it with Monica, who engaged (hee hee, I'm so witty!) You can link to it from this page. So it seems that I, whose suggestion of "Speckle" as the name for the family dog was unanimously turned down, whose fashion sense was regularly ridiculed (I was just before my time!), and whose propensity for seeking out - and developing an allergic reaction to - strange and exciting flora and fauna impacted more than one family vacation; I can proudly claim responsibility for starting a family craze. This makes the fourth, as I am also crediting myself for introducing the webcam, the concept of butt-stamping, and the use of the word "meh".
All of that background was written as an explanation of this pledge: I intend to start posting more. My competitive fires are stoked and my literary creativity is incited.
...And I think mom should start a blog.
Wednesday, July 06, 2005
A Score + A Decade + 5
circa 1996:
Happy anniversary, mom & dad!
Thirty-five years ... very impressive!
Here's the rundown from my persepective. Granted, I wasn't around for the first several years, so I have only family lore to go by.
Cost of engagment ring: 2 prize-winning Berkshire pigs
Children: 4 +2 in-law +1 in-waiting +1 future perspective
Grandchildren: 1.5
Countries lived in: 8
Countries evacuated from: 1
Continents visited: 5
Pets owned: 5 dogs, 2 cats, 2 turtles, 3 birds, 1 hamster, kaboodle of fish
chillin' in 1987
Happy anniversary, mom & dad!
Thirty-five years ... very impressive!
Here's the rundown from my persepective. Granted, I wasn't around for the first several years, so I have only family lore to go by.
Cost of engagment ring: 2 prize-winning Berkshire pigs
Children: 4 +2 in-law +1 in-waiting +1 future perspective
Grandchildren: 1.5
Countries lived in: 8
Countries evacuated from: 1
Continents visited: 5
Pets owned: 5 dogs, 2 cats, 2 turtles, 3 birds, 1 hamster, kaboodle of fish
chillin' in 1987Monday, July 04, 2005
Happy Birthday, America!
My first post...
Happy birthday, America!
You know, its pretty easy to be patriotic when you're an American living abroad. You have the chance to honor what's right about the nation, instead of getting so garbled up in debating its shortcomings. My favorite Independence Day celebration ever was 1995 in Cairo, Egypt. The school opened up to anyone with an American passport, and everyone kinda spent the day in general celebration. Marines and missionaries, teachers and businessmen, enjoyed music, swimming, food, drink... and a good time was had by all. For that little while, Americans from all different backgrounds, brought to this foreign land by a myriad of callings, socialized and celebrated and played together for no other reason than because they hailed from the same great country - a country worth celebrating.
Cheers... to the land of the free and the home of the brave...
Happy birthday, America!
You know, its pretty easy to be patriotic when you're an American living abroad. You have the chance to honor what's right about the nation, instead of getting so garbled up in debating its shortcomings. My favorite Independence Day celebration ever was 1995 in Cairo, Egypt. The school opened up to anyone with an American passport, and everyone kinda spent the day in general celebration. Marines and missionaries, teachers and businessmen, enjoyed music, swimming, food, drink... and a good time was had by all. For that little while, Americans from all different backgrounds, brought to this foreign land by a myriad of callings, socialized and celebrated and played together for no other reason than because they hailed from the same great country - a country worth celebrating.
Cheers... to the land of the free and the home of the brave...
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