Whew — I did it!
With only 20 minutes remaining in the month of November, it’s time to let you in on a little secret. I have been sharing my incredibly brilliant, inspiring, and entertaining thoughts with you — my dear blog readers — every day for the entire month. (You can relax now. That IS the secret.) There’s actually a reason for this… besides the fact that I live a ridiculously exciting life. As soon as I finish writing these words and click the “Publish” button, I will have successfully participated in NaBloPoMo 2007!
NaBloPoHuh?
Yeah, it’s a little cryptic. It stands for National Blog Posting Month. The requirements are quite simple: post every day for the month of November. It’s basically a blogging marathon inspired by NaNoWriMo — National Novel Writing Month. I like to think that NaBloPoMo-ers are the saner ones.
While I love the art and science of writing, I tend not to be either a fast writer or a prolific writer, so NaBloPoMo was a fun challenge. The reason I didn’t publicly announce my participation until now (except on the NaBloPoMo site) is that I never wanted you to think, “Wow, Rachel’s really scraping the bottom of the idea barrel.” 
)
My NaBloPoMo Numbers:
Posts: 30
Words: 8,000-ish
Posts written while sick: 3
Memes: 1
Posts written while I was out of town: 3
Posts I plan to write tomorrow: ZERO!
Then again, you never know.
ACRNM 101 — Introduction to Acronyms
Today my co-workers and I all went out for lunch to celebrate my boss’s birthday. (When I say “all,” I really just mean five people. And our work-study student was one of those.) It has been determined that our beloved registrar needs a new Facebook profile picture, so I took my camera along, thinking I could snap a good picture of him eating a chimichanga or something. Unfortunately, I forgot all about the camera until the end of the meal… and who wants to have their picture taken with a dirty plate? So his original profile picture remains.
Yep, that’s pretty much what my boss looks like. (Kudos to Jess, the artist.) Actually, he’s not quite so slender in real life, but… well, few people are. If you look closely, you can see how happy he is that someone is finally graduating.
During the three years I’ve worked with him, I’ve been gradually perfecting the art of interpreting the messages he leaves for me on post-it notes. It’s not that his handwriting is illegible — it’s just that his notes are sometime rather cryptic. When I first started working there, he would leave simple messages such as:
SMAT
Some of you have probably seen this before and know what it means. It’s an acronym for See Me About This. That one is pretty easy. But I’ve been honing my skills and have now advanced to more complex sequences of letters. The other day he wrote this message on a post-it note for me:
IHSILTAYHW…
We were both in his office when I saw it, so I tried decoding it out loud. “I Have… Something… I… I‘d Like To… Ask You… Your Help With!”
I’d like to take full credit for my amazing ability to decipher the true meaning of this acronym, but I can’t. I think a big part of the reason I was able to figure this one out so quickly is that I’ve heard those words before. More than once, in fact…
amused by the mundane
When you’re as easily amused as I am, life never ceases to entertain.
:: Yesterday, 5:45 p.m. ::
I’m hurrying through dinner preparations so I can eat and get to my evening class on time. The phone rings. I decide to answer it.
“Hello?”
“Hi, this is Stephanie calling from [She-Talked-So-Fast-Her-Words-All-Ran-Together]. Would you be…”
“I’m sorry, WHO is calling?”
“This is Stephanie from something-or-other opinion surveys. Would you…”
“Hi Stephanie! I’m in the middle of cooking dinner right now, so I’m not interested in responding to a survey. Thank you! Goodbye!” -Click.-
I was overly chipper when I turned her down, partially because it’s a lot more fun to be cheerful than annoyed, and partially because I had already wasted my time answering a survey several weeks ago, also while I was cooking dinner. When he said it would only take “a few minutes,” I was thinking of a number less than 15.
That survey was about some brand of disposable plates (or was it cups?). I told him that I had never heard of the particular new product line he was asking about, but he didn’t seem to mind. Before long he was asking me to compare this brand of plates to other disposable plates. I told him that I had no basis for an opinion, since I had never used this product.
“Well… how do you THINK it would compare?” he asked.
Wow. If I tried the product, how do I think it would compare to other brands?! That’s some great research he has going on there…
:: Today, 9:45 a.m. ::
A short conversation between two colleagues… overheard from a bathroom stall:
“Do you want me to come over to your office?”
“Sure, but I’ve gotta get a Diet Coke. I haven’t had one today.”
I guess if you’re going to be addicted to something, there are worse things than Diet Coke. But still… 9:45 a.m.?!
:: Today, 6:15 p.m. ::
My car recently began making the same terrible, horrible, no-good, very bad noise it was making before I had it fixed two months ago, so I took it in to the shop after work this evening to have a mechanic take a look at it.
The two mechanics on duty couldn’t have been any older than I am. One of the young men took my keys and pulled the car into the garage while the other one finished up with the SUV he was working on. Within 15 minutes both guys came back over to where I was waiting and the one explained that they made an adjustment to the new belt they had put in at the end of September.
And then after a pause he asked, “Are you married?”
Whoa. I was so caught off guard that all I could think to say was the boring version of the truth: “I’m not.”
The other guy gave him an incredulous look and burst out laughing… and then he swore and laughed some more. At this point the guy I had been conversing with stumbled all over himself trying to explain what he meant — that maybe he could have explained to my husband how to make further adjustments if needed. In spite of the sexism, I found the whole situation to be rather amusing.
how to not be an awkward, tacky male
I’m sure none of the men who faithfully read my blog are ever awkward or tacky (right, guys?), but in case someone fitting this description happens to stumble across my blog someday, I thought I’d post a few words of advice.
If you absolutely must turn around and look at a woman after she walks past you, at least be discreet. In other words, avoid this behavior when you’re in a place where she will catch your reflection in a large pane of glass… say, for example, an open freezer door in the frozen food section of the grocery store. Turning to look is tacky. Getting caught is doubly tacky.
If you’re going to whistle at a female friend of yours who is walking directly towards you, be certain of her identity BEFORE you whistle. Whistling at someone you don’t know is a lose-lose situation. First she will think you’re crude for whistling at a stranger on the sidewalk, and then she will feel mildly insulted when you apologize and tell her you thought she was someone else. (Hmm, so you DON’T think I’m attractive?) Yeah… awkward.
how to pop popcorn
It has come to my attention that there are people in this world who don’t know how to pop popcorn. (Shocking, isn’t it?)
I’m not talking about yanking the plastic off a pack of microwave popcorn, placing it This Side Up, and pressing the popcorn button. Sure, that’s quick and easy, but I prefer to pop it the old-fashioned way — in a kettle on top of the stove.
Not only is the old-fashioned way a lot more fun, but a big bag of popcorn kernels is cheaper and more environmentally friendly than boxes of microwave popcorn packets. And if you pop it on the stovetop, you don’t need any special appliances — just a kettle, popcorn, oil, and a big bowl.
Think it sounds too complicated? It’s not. Here’s how you do it. Pour some popcorn (1/3 cup?) and some oil (1 tablespoon?) into a kettle over medium heat. Stir it with a spoon so that the popcorn is coated with the oil. Shake the kettle a bit so that the popcorn becomes evenly distributed on the bottom of the kettle. Cover the kettle with a lid. Get out a bowl and some salt if you haven’t done so already… because this is your last chance. When you hear the popcorn start to pop, move the kettle in a continuous circular motion over the burner so that the heat is evenly distributed. When the popping has almost completely stopped, remove the kettle from the heat and pour the hot popcorn into the bowl. Sprinkle with salt and enjoy!
If you burn it the first time, don’t be afraid to try again. Experiment with technique and quantity until you get the hang of it. And then try to resist the temptation to make it every evening…
choosing to be thankful
While some of you have been busy decking the halls, I’ve been stuck in thankful mode… which isn’t such a bad thing. On my drive home this evening, I thought back to a some words I wrote a couple years ago. Although the details of my life are different now than they were when I wrote this, I still have many reasons to choose to be thankful. Here it is — with a few small editorial changes.
::
Monday, November 28, 2005
There is one parking space in the entire world that is reserved for me. ME. It’s mine. The space is clearly marked so that nobody else could possibly believe that they would be allowed to park there. And yet, on very rare occasions, someone parks in MY parking space. Last week I arrived at my parking space only to discover that someone else had decided to occupy it with their car. My automatic reaction was to become quite irritated with whoever had the audacity to take the spot that was obviously reserved for me.
But as I pulled into a different spot, I said to myself, “Self, you have so much to be thankful for! How dare you complain about someone else being in your parking space?!” I have no right to complain or be ungrateful. I should be thankful that I have a car to park. I should be thankful that I don’t have to live in my car, as some people do. And I should be thankful that God brought me safely to my parking space… or at least a nearby parking space.
I’m increasingly convinced that thankfulness is a choice. Thankfulness isn’t always my immediate attitude, but the more I choose to be thankful, the more it becomes a natural response. It’s easy to thank God for new jobs, beautiful weather, and successful surgeries, but how often do we thank God in the midst of the mundane?
Yesterday I was returning home after being away for Thanksgiving weekend, and in one area I inched along in stop-and-go traffic for 10 miles. I wasn’t particularly in a hurry, but I wasn’t exactly enjoying the delay. When I got home, I suddenly realized that I needed to thank God for the slow traffic. It was a rainy evening, and traveling more slowly kept us all safe. I also decided to thank God that the delays were caused only by heavy traffic, not accidents.
No matter the circumstances, there is always a reason to thank God. Bible commentator Matthew Henry, after being robbed, wrote this in his diary:
“I thank Thee first because I was never robbed before; second, because although they took my purse they did not take my life; third, because although they took my all, it was not much; and fourth because it was I who was robbed, and not I who robbed.”
Choose to be thankful.
hardboiled eggs and nuts
“Hardboiled eggs and nuts. Mmm!”
Kudos to the first person NOT in my immediate family who can tell me what movie this is from… without googling it first.
leaves, rakes, and tarps
I’m thankful that God made trees with leaves that turn beautiful colors in the fall.
I’m thankful that the leaves dry up and fall to the ground, because I’m also thankful for the sound of leaves crunching under my feet.
I’m thankful for the hours I spent together with my parents today… raking leaves.
I’m thankful that we used our God-given muscles to rake them instead of using energy to run a leaf blower.
I’m thankful that they/we have always hauled the leaves to their compost pile rather than stuffing them into a zillion black plastic bags.
I’m thankful that they have used duct tape to extend the life of the beloved green leaf-hauling tarp.
And we were ALL thankful for the opportunity to stretch out our weary bodies in the living room when we were finished…
Happy Turkey Day!
This morning Mom and I made 26 turkeys, and even though we thought we had enough, we really should have made four more. No, we weren’t feeding a multitude. And no, these weren’t real turkeys. They were made of candy.
Ideally I would have posted this a few days ago so you could make some cute little turkeys too, but in this case, a picture really IS worth a thousand words, so I had to wait until today.
We usually use fudge stripe cookies (with the stripes running vertically), but this year we experiented with a different kind of cookie. The candy turkeys are totally edible, since they’re held together with melted chocolate. You just have to be patient enough to hold your creation together until the chocolate cools and hardens.
Note to self: next year take along some extra candy corn for the toddlers who are interested in eating the heads off of everyone’s turkeys…
give us this day our daily newspaper…
While I was eating breakfast this morning, I called the circulation department at the local newspaper because I don’t want newspapers to be delivered to my front porch while I’m away for Thanksgiving.
“Circulation Department…”
“Hi. I’d like to put a hold on my paper.”
“OK. Last name?”
I told her.
“First name?”
“Rachel.”
“I thought it sounded like you, but I wasn’t quite sure.”
I’ve never even met the woman, but she recognized my voice. See, I used to have to call her All The Time because my newspaper carrier was incompetent. I’m sure the circulation department was annoyed that I called so often, but I was also annoyed that my newspaper failed to arrive each morning like it was supposed to. Since moving back to my house five months ago, I haven’t had any trouble at all.
I’m thankful for my faithful, competent newspaper carrier.
