Bert the Duck and Cover Turtle

Holy shit, I have no life again. School is done. I'm sure I botched my 20 page paper on the freedom from coercion versus standard of living/quality of life...whatever that means. I should have chosen a less complicated topic, as usual, but whatever. I think I managed to hang onto my D in Algebra, maybe even bumped it up to a C...that's pushing it though. My creative writing class should be the saving grace in all of this, I did a massive rewrite of my second story. Even if the teacher hates the story, I did a full on throw away of all but the first page, so if that's not editing, I don't know what is.

I have now watched Tron twice, started the first season of Damages, watched two episodes of Brothers and Sisters, watched It's a Wonderful Life, Meet Me in St. Louis, and Everybody's Fine (which, by the way, I cried through almost the entire thing, for who knows what reason), and Prancer (which I proceeded to Tweet about all night).

All in all it's been pretty nice. I'm going to make a diorama, but I haven't chosen a scene yet. One of my roommates is doing the basement from Wayne's World. It looks pretty good so far. I was going to go to Michael's tonight, but of course we're having a snow storm...which is why I'm still at work at 4:49PM - I didn't bring my boots...or gloves...or hat...it was pretty nice at 8 this morning.

I had a nice conversation with my NASA friend. He's worked for NASA, that's why I say that. He has a habit of making me think about what the hell I'm doing here. He's been to 19 countries, worked for NASA, worked for the oil fields, has done archaeology all over the US, is finishing his master's in Space Studies this spring, and to top it all off, he want's to go to Harvard for architecture. He's a "doer" like I can only strive to be.

I'm going career hunting hardcore. There has to be something I would like and would be good for a significant amount of time. Seriously. Tomorrow though - I'm going home now :0)

Disney Town Murder

So, this story has me very intrigued. http://news.yahoo.com/s/ap/us_death_in_disney_town

Here's my THEORY.

Disney built the town in 1996.

Walt Disney dies December 15th, 1966.

The man who killed himself, lost his business, in 2006. Here we have 666 - the first 6 in 66 was a safety net implemented by Walt in case Craig Foushee was able, by some miracle, to save his business.

Now, Craig gets divorced in 2009 - something Walt did not plan for, but which worked very well in his interest.

You see, Walt Disney had himself cryogenicly frozen...well, his head anyway, in anticipation of the scientific advancements that would allow him to get a new body. What no one planned for, of course, is the amount of pure imagination trapped in Walt's frozen head. When the thirty year anniversary of Walt's death came and passed without the necessary science to bring body and mind together, the people at Disney knew they had to do something before the imagination collapsed in on itself and vanished after 50 years. They built the town in an effort to begin the imagination release process - Operation Robin Williams - after the Genie, who is released from his bottle in Aladdin, just as Walt's imagination needed to be.

The community thrived, performing seances every night to release the "Genie." Eventually they realized, too much imagination had been released...it had become a living thing...an obsessive compulsive living thing that demanded strict order and bright, beautiful colors and happiness all the time.

An unfortunate requirement for Mr. Craig Foushee who, suffering from his divorce and bankruptcy was not happy at all. The imagination rose up from it's lair under the town and latched on to Foushee, forcing every unhappy muscle in his body to revolt against the implanted happiness. He had no choice. He had to kill Matteo Patrick Giovanditto, who lived with his chihuahua, and was as happy as a clam.

As my (most likely one and only) reader knows, I love the X-Files. It was not a difficult leap to make then, when I heard about this small handbook guided community, who found itself in the midst of murderers, that the culprit is a monster buried under the ground, created by none other than Walt Disney, and, in fact, is Walt Disney.

Please remember, this is all speculation, and 95% imagination. What happened to both victims, which I believe both of them are, is absolutely terrible and heartbreaking. Surely even they would admit though, that it's straight out of the X-Files, and I'm sure Disney doesn't mind a little imagination in the face of travesty. May they all rest in Disneyland.

You heard it here first.

The end.

P.S. To my reader: Meet me in Hawaii in three years, haha.

Gnivigsknaht

It's official, I will not be living in Minnesota. Maybe I'll have a summer cabin or something if I ever strike it rich, but Minnesota has way too much baggage. I like being available for things and events and what not, but good god, all I ever think about it the next thing I need to do. My life in Minesota has always revolved around other people, and while I enjoy that in small doses, I need a place to go when it's all over, and currently that place is my parents couch or my sister's bedroom, where I happen to be at this very moment - using her computer because my parents don't have wireless internet and I'm too lazy to crawl under her desk to get the cord.

I love my friends and I love my family, but I like this lifestyle a little too much, I think - I have no responsibility except actually making it to all of my destinations. I rarely have to bring anything, except myself. I am the "That Crazy Amy." The problem is, I have a life outside of this, a life that has responsibility, expects things of me, and demands a pretty big chunk of my focus. Although, after this semester that demand will go down, and I certainly have chosen the responsibility, but the 90% of the time I spend in North Dakota is terribly boring otherwise, and unfortunately I can't just shut school off two weeks befoe finals.

Thanksgiving was nice - good food, good people, bad sports on TV. It always goes by so quickly. You see these people a handful oftimes a year and your supposed to catch up with all of them in just a few hours, most of time, while eating. But then at the same time, it probably why everyone still gets along and has fun the whole time - no one really knows anyone.

And, on that note, I am being beckoned by children and I can not refuse. More later.

Tim O'Brien - The Things They Carried

Joel Lardner

I am currently rereading The Things They Carried by Tim O'Brien, in preparation for the arrival of said Tim O'Brien in Grand Forks, this Thursday.

I'm always a little torn when it comes to war stories, because I often feel like it's science fiction in a biographical cloak. That is not to say I think war stories are science fiction, but what often happens is the stories which are so unbelievable, yet true, get reduced to the normal stories of war. I realize part of the message of these kinds of books and part of the effects of being in a war is that the fantastic and horrifying become nondescript, and day to day - in a way that people can or cannot manage.

However, I do not believe that the transition from non-war to war for drafted soldiers would also be so "by the book." Some live, some die, some freak out, some get medals, some tell the stories, some make the stories, some struggle more, some struggle less - like it's just the experience of a normal section of humanity dropped into a unusual situation. The movie Dangerous Minds comes to mind (thanks to the new version being made), or any of about 1,000 stories.

In stories, most people 1) survive their unusual experience, 2) do not end up with PTSD.

I haven't decided on Tim O' Brien's stories. I read them in high school, and now I'm reading them again in a slightly different world. The really strange part about all of this is that war stories are often written by soldiers - soldiers who did or saw or lived the stories they are telling, and here I am saying it's too easy to make the stories normal - why not pull a Superman out of war? Are the soldiers who come back the same kids who left? Are the soldiers who come back the same soldiers who were in combat? I would argue not, but then someone will inevitable ask if we are ever the same after life-changing experiences, and I would argue that yes, many people are the same, but in war, most people are not. High school graduation is is the first step toward major life changes, but it is not what drives the personality change.

Ok, ok, I'm getting carried away before I've even reread a third of the book, I'm "responding to." I may or may not come back to this, but it is all to say that Tim O'Brien is coming here on Thursday and I'm excited for some academic social activities.

Weekend!

Well, I have this weekend off, and by off I mean totally off, no work, no driving ridiculous distances, a little bit of reading and homework, but I don't have to leave my house if if I don't want to. This hasn't happened since some time back in April I think...whenever I started working "every other weekend" which really means every weekend, and a couple days out of the week. I've worked 60+ hour weeks ever since, and now that school's started I dropped the hotel some, but picked up...Economics.

I get home Mondays around 8PM, Tuesdays around 9PM, Wednesdays around 8PM, Thursdays around 9PM, then Friday at 5PM, but I work at 11PM, so I go right to bed. Then, I get done Saturday at 7AM and usually return by 9PM. Of course, this all on a good week. It wasn't long ago that on a Friday I worked 8AM-4:30PM, 5PM-12AM, 12AM-8AM. All at different places. Needless to say, this is how I look most days...




Not this weekend though. This weekend, I'm going to look like this...



Or maybe this, if I play my cards right...



Agh, who I'm I kidding. I don't like to drink much. Then again, I haven't been to a bar since the smoking ban in mid-August. We'll see what happens.

My new tatoo.

I think I might have to get me one of these.

Adult-onset Disfuctional Mental Multitasking (ADMM)

I was often chastised by adults for listening to music or watching TV while I did homework. As I got older, I honestly believed that music or some other "subliminal" noise was keeping the focus of the part of my brain that was easily distracted. The part that would wonder while I was reading, was now focused on the music playing. I was productive, I understood the material, I was conceptualizing, I was retaining.

Now, in the last six months, my ability to listen to music while studying, and retain what I have read is approaching 0. Every now and again, I'm still able to do it, but more and more I find myself having to shut it off. And I do not do so happily. I've tried jazz, blues, classical - piano and cello, folk, I get distracted by all of them. Television is hopeless, unless I really hate the show or have seen it and didn't particularly like it , but those shows are few and far between.

I turned 25 in March. I can see this as the only cause of the deterioration of my mental multitasking abilities.

I would like to think that "practicing" would help, or mental exercises, but isn't that what I've been doing all along, every time I listen to music and study?

I will overcome this. I have to. I don't have to listen to music every time I decide to study or read, but I want to be able to when I decide I want to. I can think of nothing better than listening to Muddy Waters while reading Toni Morrison, or Miles Davis while reading The Great Gatsby or McTeague, Thelonious Monk while evaluating Political Liberalism, Mumford and Sons while practicing solving problems using the quadratic equation. It's all part of the experience that leads to retention.

Christine O' Donnell and other rantings.

I am pissed off. Time for a rant.

School started wonderfully, I was ahead in my homework, turning things in on time, and don't tell anyone, but sometimes early.

Then, last week I look at the syllabus for my Philosophy of Economics class, and the assignment is a chapter of the book and two article posted online, only they weren't posted yet. I waited and waited, checked the syllabus again, waited some more, sent the professor an email, waited some more, he said he'd post them soon, I waited some more, ranted and raved about how the professor was totally fucking up my rhythm, checked the syllabus again last night, only to discover that Thursday is not the 23rd, but the 16th, and I'm a week off. Our response papers were due about 10 minutes ago, and needless to say mine is not there. Our class isn't until tomorrow, so I still have time to do the reading, but I probably won't get points for the response.

Normally, this would not be a big deal, and it's actually not a big deal, but it MUST BE A BIG DEAL, or I might as well consider the semester over right now. I have set very strict, not so strict rules for myself, and if I waive one, I will completely relapse into my very lackadaisical self.

Ok, moving on. Beware of major F-bombs below.

Delaware!!!??? What the fuck are you thinking???!!!!

Now before I get arrested for libel or something, all of this information came from sources which are listed at the bottom of the page.

Christine O' Donnell as your US Senator? You have got to be fucking kidding me. Of all the people in the whole fucking state, you find the one fucking person who most resembles, and may turn out to be worse than, fucking Sarah Palin. I am sickened. For God's sake she thinks masturbation is wrong. She didn't get her BA until this summer. She worked her campaign from her townhouse and used donation money to pay half the rent. Of course, this is because she lost her actual house in Wilmington. She owed $90,000 on it, and the government was going to auction it, and she sells it to her campaign manager. She owes back taxes. She's fucking homophobic. If she wins, there will be no doubt in my mind that the end of the world as we know it, will occur on Dec. 21st, 2012. On Dec. 22nd, the aliens will be coming to inoculate all of us in preparation for a new life of slavery on the planet Halvoxaite, because we are completely incapable of managing a planet ourselves.

This Tea Party business is really starting to freak me out. I went to a meeting in Grand Forks early this year, and it was pretty standard "we don't work to pay for your health care" blather, which is fine, people are entitled to their opinion and their property, but then this guy comes out and starts ranting and raving about liberty and shouting lines from Braveheart, "They may take our lives, but they'll never take our FREEDOM!" When he was done, people cheered. Maniacs. Heartless extremism, at it's very worst. They don't understand the economy, religion, the Constitution, freedom, or liberty. They blame all Muslims for 9/11, and are just flat out ignorant. Now, I will add one qualifier. Not all Tea Party members are this way, I'm sure of that, but I haven't met a single one. I'm not exactly in a location that's conducive to meeting Tea Party members, but I haven't even heard of one who can make a valid argument - even one I disagree with! It's all been rubbish - rumors and hate mongering. And now Christine O' Donnell is the Republican nominee for US Senate in Delaware. Unbefuckinglievable.

Ok, rant over.

Have a lovely day!

Here's her campaign website, conveniently, nothing fucking works, all links are broken. http://christineodonnell.com/home/

Oh yeah, and her facebook page, where you can't write on her wall or find anything about her views. You can donate though! Please don't!
http://tpmdc.talkingpointsmemo.com/2010/09/odonnells-greatest-hits.php

http://www.christineodonnell08.com/

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Christine_O%27Donnell

All names have been changed...except mine.


Dear Paul,

This is a formal complaint against the current manager of the Highway Crown Inn, Glen Marrow.

Recount of events:

I arranged and confirmed multiple times that I would have the weekend of August 13 and 14th off, in exchange for working two weekends in a row (August 20, 21st and 28th, 29th) with Rachel, the assistant manager, so that I could work at the Great 7 while Julie had jury duty. On Wednesday, August 4th I came to the HCI to get my check. As I was leaving, I remembered that Rachel had wanted everyone to write down their schedules before the 8th. I went to grab a sheet of paper and she said something to the effect of, “You’re every other weekend, we know you’re schedule, you don’t have to write it down.” I replied something like, “Ok, and you don’t have me on for this weekend or the 13th and 14th, right?” To which Rachel said, “Yep, you’re good.” I left. As far as I was concerned, my next days to work at the HCI were the 20th and 21st, which I would have confirmed early that week as I ALWAYS do.

On the 13th I received a call from Michael at 11:04PM asking if I was coming in to work. I said no, I’m at G7 until midnight, it should be Joe. He sounded angry about this, and said he was going to call around and see what happened. Twenty minutes later I get a call from Glen asking what the deal was. He was aggressive right from the beginning of the conversation, interrupting me, yelling, saying it was my responsibility to check the schedule, to which I responded that I did, multiple times, he said the schedule wasn’t out until Monday, I said yes, but I shouldn’t have to call daily, I confirmed with the assistant manager before she made the schedule, so there was no reason for me to check it again, and my responsibilities had been fulfilled, you’ll have to take it up with Rachel. He continued to yell and blame me for the whole situation. I told him I was at the Great 7 and that I didn’t appreciate the way he speaking to me, he continued on saying he was ticked off, I said well, you’re not my boss, Paul is. He said well, maybe that’s how it’s going to have to be from now on. I asked if he was firing me, he talked over me, saying more about how I’d report to Paul. I apologized for saying he wasn’t my boss, that technically, every other weekend he is my manager, but that Paul is my main boss and that he can’t talk to me like this, and said again that it was inappropriate for him to be yelling at me; I have guests in the lobby buying snacks, to which he again said I’d be under Paul and hung up on me in a huff. I immediately called Paul and recounted the conversation.

After I got off the phone with Paul, the guest in the lobby began offering me legal advice, explaining that I didn’t need to tolerate that kind of behavior, that I had done nothing wrong. He said I handled it well. He suggested I talk with Glen’s supervisor, and I told him that’s what I’d just done. The guest said if I needed anything, he was staying in room 110 on the night of the 13th, he could be looked up as a “witness” if need be.

I find this to be a disgusting misuse of authority and irresponsible management. He acted childishly, and threw a fit that could not be calmed down, no matter what I said. I know that he was upset because he was going to have to work the shift, but that is absolutely no excuse. If he had simply called and explained there was no one to work and there had been a misunderstanding, I would have worked it, just like I ALWAYS do. If Glen had taken two minutes to find out anything about me, he would know that I’m the one that gets called when no one can work, and if I’m in town and not working somewhere else, I do it. All he would have had to do was ask. I work 60 hour weeks in order to help out and fill in where I can, I frequently work double shifts (often leaving one hotel for another), I work all shifts, I do my work, I’ve called in sick twice in 6 years many hours before I was due in, I’ve never missed a scheduled shift, but Glen can’t even bother to introduce himself when I met him for the first time to pick up my check on the 4th. He has shown me no respect since the day I started, he can’t even get my address right on my paychecks (I’ve corrected it twice), just tells me they’ll cash it if I go to Bremer, which is not my bank, and is an extra stop for me.

It is my suspicion, that Glen harbors resentment over me being hired at the HCI through Paul, rather than himself, and may now use this instance as retaliation to fire me in the future, specifically because I called into question his authority over me. I understand that I am not being fired, but I am concerned that he may not act professionally in the future. I would prefer that I have zero to limited contact with Doug as I feel his presence and attitude toward his employees creates one of hostility that I would rather not have in my life. I work weekend over nights, so I really don’t see this request being an issue. As I said, the first time I met him in three months was last week. His bullying tactics may work on his younger employees, but I will not tolerate it.

I hope that you take this complaint seriously, as I have never had to write a formal complaint on any of your employees in six years, nor have spoken so harshly about any of them. In fact, I can’t think of a single one I’ve had any real problem with at all. I even got along pretty well with Martha, and she was one of the worst. I do not feel comfortable around Doug, and I do not trust him or his motivations, and I hope you can respect that.



Thank you for time,

Amy Kielmeyer

New Grand Forks

I have approximately 10 days left in Old Grand Forks. On the 23rd, which conveniently is when school starts, I'm entering New Grand Forks. Basically, this will consist of me tricking myself into believing I am actually moving to a new physical space. In order to this, a number of things must happen:

1. Clean out my closet. Why this is number one on the list I can't say, but walking in to a clean closet is sure nice.

2. Force all things which do not have a "place" to take over something else's space, or be thrown in the garbage. I could donate, but let's face it, I'm lazy.

3. Change routines. I'll be taking a new way to work. Maybe not the most efficient way, but a new way. Incorporate 30 minute nap up to 3 days/wk as needed.

4. Maintain schedule. This will be the most difficult, and I probably should have been doing so all summer, but live and learn. I LOVE being able to do things when they come up, and I think if I monitor my decisions closely, I will be successful. If someone calls at 10:00PM for a drink, I can go so long as I'm back by 11:00. If I don't think I'll be back by then, I don't get to go. I must be firm enough to give myself real structure, but flexible enough so I don't become rebellious.

5. Pay Attention. I'm going to start looking around more. I'm not, nor have I ever been, very detail oriented. My job demands it, and yet, I find myself ignoring important spelling errors, simple arithmetic errors, etc.

6. Blog as if I actually am in a new place. This'll be pretty difficult too, but we'll see what happens. Expect a change.

My New Plan

I must work for SETI.

Or somewhere that researches similar kinds of things, namely extra-terrestrial communications and questions of time/space, etc.

I am starting from the beginning - Algebra. Unfortunately, I have always been a little too adept at finding my way around rules and doing things I don't want to do. Some would call this cheating, I would probably call it cheating now, but at the time, I considered it ingenuity. I never actually cheated, I never had someone else do my homework, I just ordered teacher edition books, or memorized everything. The teacher editions might be cheating...I'm not sure. Memorizing, though, was just veering around the actual work. I still worked hard making note cards, and doing the actual memorizing, it was just a type of work I was familiar with and so it seemed easier than sitting there doing math problems I didn't understand immediately.

I like work that I know how to do. I like that work to be dynamic, and complex, but I want to already have the tools and knowledge of the tools at my "immediate" disposal. By immediate, I just mean that I don't want to have to practice for months before I get the hang of it.

I MUST get over this. Few things are learned in a day, and I think I'm running out all the possibilities there. Reading books, watching movies/TV, making art projects, etc. Plus, all these things cost money (presumably, though I've found ways around this, too).

Ultimately, it comes down to commitment, and I have very little. I attribute this to my 8th grade teacher giving me a -27% on an English assignment. How is this possible, you ask? I don't know. I did more wrong than was actually required to be right, I suppose. Up until that point, I pretty much had straight A's. To be honest, I laughed at the -27% (which the more I think about it may have actually been -43% and I'm in denial), but the laughter was out of disbelief, and at that moment I felt my care for grades float away. My brain had to protect me from the desire to try to reconcile a grade so poor it was below zero with my desire to do well in school - the only thing I had really committed to.

Small price to pay, I say. While I attribute my noncommittal attitude to this moment, I am also VERY grateful I'm not one of those freaks who cry and lash out over a bad grade. Every time I've gotten a bad grade, I know exactly why: Very Little Effort (VLE). When I've gotten good grades, the pride comes from a feeling of successful deception, as I most likely put forth VLE. Boy, does that make things easy.

My days of little effort must end. I think. It's going to be difficult, as I'm pretty sure it's now hard-wired, but I find I may be just competitive enough to duke it out with my very lazy alter-ego, AKizzle.

I will miss the fly-by-the-seat-of-my-pants, carefree, schedule-free, why not?, go for it, let's do it self, that balances out my very boring no-I-have-to-go-to-bed self, but I'm confident the adjustment will not be too painful, and that my good logic will figure out a way to make what I MUST do into that which I WANT to do, and will therefore transform the MUST into the fun part, returning to me the carefree self.

If I can suffer through the homework of Algebra, and then Calculus, I will be on my way to Mechanics, Astrophysics, and Electricity. I will soon be on my way to sound waves and sitting in a room with headphones listening to space static. I'm actually not that interested in the sitting in the room part. I'm a brainstormer. I want to be able to help think of ways the technology we have can be reformulated to work for other things. For instance, wind energy. It's essentially a reverse fan. One would think that on days when it's particularly windy, the turbine would not move at a constant speed, but at a speed proportional to the amount of wind with a limit dependent on the torque of the blades. Thereby making more energy that we could store up for future use, or immediately transport to the grid. I don't actually know what that last part entails, but it sounds right, right?

Someone's probably going to steal my logic now and make millions. Then again, perhaps it already exists. That's what I have to find out, and that is why I am going to take as many physics classes as I have to in order to get into the MS program at UND. I'm going to be here any way, and I get 9 free credits a year.

I went to the library yesterday and got 4 books on mathematical history and theory, one being Intro to Mathematics by Alfred North Whitehead, which is shockingly interesting (once you get through the series of 40 consecutive yawns that come from reading a math book). This book was written in 1911, but from what I gather is one of the premiere math theory books for those claiming mathematical retardation, such as I.

We'll see how this goes. My last jaunt into concrete decision making combined with action lead to the Iowa Debacle of 2009, so I'm a little skittish, but I can't really do much worse than that, and it's not costing me any money (at the moment), and hopefully the desire to not fail will be motivation enough to push me through the tedious part.

To infinity, and beyond!

Speaking of Buzz, I saw Toy Story 3 and pretty much cried my eyes out through the whole thing, but it was really good.

Ken to Barbie: I love your leggings.

Barbie to Ken: I love your ascot.

Get it? Haha

I Made Another Teacher Psycho

I was recently informed...recent as in about five minutes ago, that my Classical Studies professor attacked a nurse after receiving psychiatric treatment. This is interesting because the man is the human incarnation of Winnie the Pooh. He's very round and pudgy, kind of like those little Fisher Price toys, but a cute-ish looking older man, even though I think he's only in his early 50's. He looks like a Lutheran pastor at a more conservative church...that's really the best description I can give.

I would not have a third major in Classics if it weren't for this man. Granted, I didn't learn a thing, but he made it very easy for me to work hard memorizing, take the test, and then forget everything. At the time I was working the overnights, so I often came in late and disheveled, or not at all; claiming all kinds of things from: I was in a car accident that left me with two flat tires, someone didn't show up for their shift, my roommate fell down the stairs and broke his leg, my kitten was throwing up all night and brought to the veterinarian at 6am where we sat until 10:00AM, etc. Most of the time I did feel guilty for such exaggeration, buuuut...I had to pass four semesters of Latin! HAD TO inorder to get my English degree.

Why didn't you just choose Spanish, or German, or Norwegian, you ask? I should have. I should have taken Spanish, but by the time I realized it, it was too late, and I was on a very tight semester by semester schedule. Dropping Latin or not passing even one semester with a C would have meant no graduation. This particular professor made this true feat of nature occur: Semester 1 - C, Semester 2 - A, Semester 3 - A, Semester 4 - A. I don't know Latin. I know a couple phrases, and seriously, I mean a couple.

Now I learn, the man's probably losing it, at least a little. A similar thing occurred in my high school. I might have tortured her on a very small scale - stealing staplers, markers, pens, CD's, hall passes. I whistled like a bird in the back of class, unplugged her computer monitor, and on the last day of class threw a bag of marbles in her classroom. Nothing major or that would have caused any pain, and nothing she could even attribute to me, but when I learned she had a stroke, I couldn't help but feel I had somehow contributed. Delusions of grandeur, I suppose, but here's the strange part...She was my Spanish teacher.

I feel a little guilty. I know on a grand scale I didn't do anything, the Latin teacher doesn't know I ever lied (or made fun of this weird sucking sound he made after he had some dental problems), the Spanish teacher never knew I was laughing at her and not with her...was there really any harm done? I would think no, but both have had serious mental issues. I think the only reason I may suspect any contribution on my own part is because these are the only people I've really chosen to bug, and the Latin teacher I didn't really like doing it, it was a survival mechanism.

Ok, I've gone on enough. I've confessed my possible guilt. Hopefully things remain balanced in my Karma world.

Betty White is The Highlander

I haven't laughed so hard since that episode of Aqua Teen Hunger Force where Shake jumps off the cliff because he is The highlander. I don't know why I think Highlander humor is so funny, I've never even seen it, but man...that shit is funny...and a little morbid. RIP Girls.

Morgan Freeman, Aliens and God

"Through the Wormhole" Wednesday at 9:00PM CST.

I am pumped for this.

I do not have cable.

What could be any better than this show?

http://beat.bodoglife.com/sports/morgan-freeman-to-tackle-space-travel-on-new-show-78831.html

I will find cable.

You wait and see.

Was there a Creator?

Is there time travel?

Is there life on other planets?

Seriously, though, I think this could be really interesting. Everyone loves Morgan Freeman, and I think it's a fairly bold move to go after some tough, complicated questions. Lucky for him, I can't imagine his hardcore religious fans will be tuning in for this, because we all know there's no space above the sky, just heaven.

Carefree

It's very odd to not have a single care in the world. What I mean to say is that as far as the world is concerned, I have nothing to care about. I know, that's really no clearer is it, and actually, I think it sounds like I'm a bitch. I'm not. Well, I am, but I'm not.

Obviously there are things in the world to care about, Bangkok, for instance, the senatorial race, the re-opening of the dog park in Grand Forks, but for all intents and purposes, none of these "speak" to me.

Due to this lack of chatter coming from various topics that normally speak quite loudly or stir a certain measurable amount of chatter within me, I've begun to look to the ridiculous for stimulation.

The deportation woman is a bust. I'm trying to maintain high hopes, but even I have begun to falter in my unwavering hope for a mystery. She needs to pay the damn $50 and buy the birth certificate in Boston with her mother's name and if it's her, case closed, if it's not her, she's SOL. There could maybe be room for discussion if it's not the right one, but unless that discussion involves me going to her mothers house in Michigan, ND for a one on one interview in which I find out just what kind of socialite she and her family were, the case is closed.

I'm reverting back to my more carefree days. My X-Files stuff has it's own bookcase again. I was almost going to add the alien water bottles to it. I watch Brothers and Sisters to give me a sense of drama. Things are grim.

Really I just mean I have no problems to solve. Look at how dramatic things get when left without a solvable problem. I occasionally solve other peoples problems, a professor had a janitor throw away a plant she'd received when her mother died, and I was ready to go out and buy her another one - sounding the alarms and rallying troops to put together some money. Luckily, the President's office will do that, plus she bought herself one, but problem solved none the less. Solving other peoples problems isn't as satisfying as it used to be, mostly because I've realized if I'm solving their problems, I'm usually hurting them in some ridiculous way, too.

So, now what?

How do people live without a single problem? I know I should consider myself luckily, but imagine for a second that you have nothing on your mind. Nothing. You're perfectly comfortable staring at the wall for an undetermined amount of time. You can play Bejeweled Blitz for more than an hour at a time - that's something like 45-50 rounds. Puzzles? We've been doing puzzles. Real puzzles, where hours just disappear. It's actually a little unnerving.

The real issue is that I'm positive drama comes from caring about people, and I'm worried that perhaps I've stopped caring. I get along quite well, for the most part, with everyone I'm around on a regular basis. This would appear to confirm what one person believes, this being that I go around creating problems where there aren't any, with people who have supported me, but he's wrong in the sense he was using it in. I do do that, but not with him. I was telling him he was making an ass of himself. He didn't have to do anything with it, it was just a fact. That's totally different.

I guess I'll continue to enjoy it for now, but if I start blogging about how beautiful the trees are, or how green the grass is, or how long my finger nails are getting (I'm a biter), please alert the authorities.

And, if you hear of any "realistic" (I use that word loosely) mysteries, let me know.

More Anthropology Adventures.

I was wondering how long it would be before a weird job related thing would happen, as all of my jobs like to spite me just a little bit, and the time is here.

I know many of you will say, "Please, Amy. You've received mafia letters, are conducting a genealogy of someone who might get deported, this is not the first weird work related thing to happen."

It's true, I would say in response, but this is the first thing that's been specifically directed at me. The other things I just sort of jumped in front of, if you know what I mean.

It all started a few weeks ago. I received a message in my Facebook inbox from someone I didn't recognize. It said, "You Rock!" I responded with, "Interesting, thank you. Have we met?" He claims he hit the wrong Amy, and that that's what he gets for being on the computer without contacts in. Yeah, right. I ignored the request.

It was not long after this that I realized, thanks to a janitorial plaque with pictures courtesy of UND, that the guy is one of our building's janitors. The next week I come into my office and find the single of Journey "Lights" sitting on my desk. I left it in the exact same spot I found it for more than a week and it never went away, but my garbage was always changed.

Last week I get in and I noticed a bootlegged copy of Stevie Ray Vaughn sitting on the student workers desk right outside my office. Definitely home made, from a concert in 1989 with Santana. I thought, well, at least he's not leaving them for me any more, and added Journey to the pile.

Then I get here today, and the Stevie Raye Vaughn CD has been moved from the student workers desk and is now on MY desk, but Journey remains where I put it.

What the fuck, dude.

Stevie Ray Vaughn is an excellent guitar player, but he's a douche, and I hardly ever listen to him. Journey, I listen to at the bar and make fun of all the really drunk people singing, "Just a small town girl..." by throwing entirely too witty for their sloshed minds to comprehend remarks at them.

I do not want the janitor to leave me anything, let alone really shitty music. Plus, am I supposed to keep these? Does he want them back? I don't even want to find out unless he plans on leaving an autographed Tom Waits record, or tickets to Simon and Garfunkel, or money.

I hope this doesn't become a problem, I would like to feel comfortable in my office and not like there might possibly be a camera taping me. I'm a jammer, and I want to jam out Bohemian Rhapsody in peace.

Not only that, but the only reason I even know it's the janitor leaving them is because I'm a freakin' sleuth. As far as he's concerned I don't know who's leaving them, and that's a billion time creepier.

Dear Janitor - I know your name, I'm just choosing not to use it here,

If you're reading this, please stop leaving me CD's. I'm flattered and appreciative, but more than that I'm creeped out. Even worse than that, the student workers are creeped out. So, please stop.

Thanks,

Amy

Mystery Science Theater 2010

Today I am beginning what will hopefully turn out to be a really awesome experience which will lead to me becoming a part-time private detective/alien hunter/seeker of the unknown.

A woman called me the other day requesting someone in the department to help her do some genealogical work. She's 65 and recently found out her father is not actually her father, which led to her discovery she is not a legal citizen of the US. Her mother brought her to the states when she was 1, so she's been here for 64 years, but she can't track down her mother's birth certificate. She's already uncovered many torrid affairs, business scandals, and her mother (who is 94, hates kids, and hoards animals) will no longer speak to her.

My guess so far? She was abducted by aliens.

Fear not. I am taking this 100% seriously. Do not let my fancy footwork fool you. I am in this for the long haul - whether that be to London, where her grandfather had a consulting firm, Boston, where he possibly founded the Boston U Business School, or the institution, where she or I may belong.

Wish me luck and tell a friend.

The Big 25

Only minor feelings of crisis. I think I've accepted many of the social constructs that come with being...well...no longer 24.

The first being, I am no longer in the "18-24" range, but have moved into the "twenty-something" phase of life.

It was a little difficult to grasp the idea of being two years shy of being my mother's age when she had me, only because as a child, I was always under the impression she was old when she had me, compared to my friends' parents, who were 22 or 23 when they had their first kjavascript:void(0)id.

At first I felt compelled to change things more drastically, but as a 25 year old now, they ain't how I roll, I mean I no longer behave in a drastic manner.

I move into an apartment with some friends on Monday. That will really change everything, more than this particular day ever will. I've gotten so used to just not using anything, it'll be nice to have all my things at my disposal again. Although, I was just about to list all the things I was going to start using, and I can't really think of anything beyond kitchen things. I guess the best thing, next to a full size freezer, will be that I will have somewhere else to sit besides the bed, which coincidentally, I won't actually have for awhile. I am so sick of laying/sitting on the bed all day I could puke. My damn elbow is probably permanently damaged from laying on it to watch TV at the end of the bed.

Anyway, one of the professors brought me in a chocolate brownie style cake - totally unexpected and really freakin' good cake. It was a nice surprise, they even got a card signed by most of the people and another prof gave me bacon flavored toothpicks, which is really weird, but really funny. I have to give them credit because I don't even know how they knew, and it sounds like they didn't until yesterday, haha. It's always a good day when you get cake at 9am. I got cards from my Grandma and Aunt in my work mailbox, Gma's had $20 so I will make it through the weekend without using my CC anymore, I'm going to lunch at Paradiso with a friend because you get a free meal on your birthday, and then when I get done with work I will most likely spend the night watching Brothers and Sisters.

I was about to write it should be a pretty good day all in all and then I got a text from someone I think I wish would just not text me. I don't know if that's what I wish exactly, I just wish we would talk and have the huge explosion fight we're bound to have and then just get over it so we can be move on and be friends again. I know I like to argue, but this is making me crazy. I've never had so much to say in all my life. I've never had so much I wanted someone else to say! I suppose I should get that part out of my head, but I don't care what she says, I just want her to say something. I suppose it won't be terrible if it doesn't happen, but there's nothing a big blowout tell-all can't solve, I'm sure of it.

Ok, so after that, it should be a pretty good day, this, the the twenty fifth occasion of the eleventh day of March.

Happy Birthday to me.

Holy Mary Mother of God

Most of the time I'm pretty content with my rationalizations about God and all that good stuff. I don't believe in hell, most "rules" in the Bible and other religious documents are subject to time and culture and social change and that's why there are many religions rather than just one.

I'm a little shaky on the whole Jesus thing...I kind of like to think God knew what was going on from the beginning. I don't think God steps in, but I really hope that every now and again an exception can be made for any one who asks. Which changes the Jesus thing.

I hope God's a she, or a ball of light, or a black hole with Morgan Freeman's voice because it's as close to a real hug as a voice can come. I don't believe God punishes people...ever, even if they don't believe. I don't believe being gay is wrong or sinful, because if God gave us anything it's the desire to look for love wherever it may reside.

I think God knows how difficult it is to have faith, and on some level has to appreciate those who have a hard time mustering enough faith all the time, and those who throw themselves head long into the religious abyss looking for some kind of reassurance. I think the soul is that little piece that will always wonder, but also instinctively knows right from wrong, even if it's hard to interpret. Truly good people never know they're good, evil people know it right from the beginning.

But every now and again, I feel this little niggling in the back of my mind. Sometimes it tells me it's all meaningless. There's no way to know, and there's no purpose in trying to explain it or accept it. Faith is just a form of escapism, trying to fend off our responsibilities to ourselves, to life and to other people. Even as we raise it up as a blessing.

Then other times, I really want it to be exactly how it says in any of the inspired religious texts. Pick one, it doesn't matter, I just want it to be true, and I just want to believe it. I wish there was one that was more inclusive, but beggars can't be choosers. I would love to have guidelines, no gray area, just black and white, right and wrong, yes and no, none of this maybe, sometimes, what if, garbage.

People like me never know anything. We just think and dream and wonder and hope and not pray, we never pray. We blame ourselves for everything, because who else is there? We run from success and failure because either alternative demands too much of a stance on any particular thing and the possibility of an undesirable outcome is almost too much to take. The thought of making things worse is horrifying, and the thought of making things better is a wonderful fantasy. A fantasy we fully recognize as just that. A thought, a dream, a wish, a hope, but not a prayer, never a prayer.

As Requested

I'm Back. From where? I don't know, but I'm back.

I have a new job. I'm officially moving back to Grand Forks. Technically, I'm already here, it's just my stuff that isn't, and really, who needs stuff. I have enough stuff to live perfectly comfortably in two places with just the transfer of a few outfits and my iPod. Now, of course, I would not be me if my whole car wasn't filled, so I often transport things that just never leave the car. A garbage bag of socks is one of those things. All of the jackets I own, granola bars, a two drawer dresser thing from Target, onion rings, a grocery bag of DVDs. I'm not gonna lie, a lot of the stuff has been in there since Iowa in Sept. I wish I could just shake the car out, like you do a rug.

Since I have a new job I was thinking of buying a car, but who am I kidding? I'm broke. This being said, I may get my parent's van, which would be...awesome. I can't decide if that's sarcastic or not. I wanted a station wagon, like a Subaru or something, but one less payment is fine by me, and in the summer I could technically live in it if need be. Hopefully it will not come to that, but I like the idea of knowing I have somewhere to sleep that does not rely on anyone else, just in case.

This was problem when I first arrived in GF. There were some weekends when the hotel was booked, so I slept in my car in the hotel parking lot when I had to work the overnights. It was usually only from 8-2 or three, then in the afternoon I'd a get a room again, but still. I may act like a gypsy but it ain't in my blood. I like having somewhere to go rather than going somewhere because it's the only place to go. My car and I have been to hell and back a couple of times together, so feel badly abandoning it, but I would feel much worse if all the tires fall off while I'm driving it, or the radiator just exploded. Both are quite likely to occur. Just the last time I went to the cities I had to pull over twice between here and Fargo to fiddle with the plugs and such so the speedometer would stay in place. I'd set the cruise for 75 and all of a sudden the arm thing would jump to 90, then back down to 60, which would then kick of the cruise. Very annoying. So there's me on the side of the Interstate (read freeway), no coat, I don't like to wear them on long drives so it was in the back seat, my Michael Jackson pants, hunched over the engine trying to see if anything's loose by just grabbing and wiggling stuff around.

Anyway, like I said, new job. It's nice actually, a very good job. Full state benefits, 25k a year, pretty laid back since I'm the one in charge, I kind of come and go as I please, without over stepping my bounds. Can't take advantage of the fact that no one knows what you're doing or someone will start noticing what you're doing. That's why the last lady got FIRED. I put that in caps because she claims she resigned, but it's a lie. She sucked. She was dumb. She was dirty. She was old (not in itself a problem, but she made it so). She was let go. I have my own office, I supervise student workers, I have keys to the building and all the doors, I have a voice mail with my name on it, my name is even up on directory that's in a glass case when you walk into the building. I just put AMY, haha. Soon I'll be like Madonna, and Cher, Beck, Beyonce, Bjork, Coolio, Bono and Elvis.

If only it wasn't in North Dakota. Puke. That's a deal breaker, and would have been if I could have found anything in the cities. I guess I did find CC debt collecting, and I almost did it, but I just sort of pretended it wasn't an option and let it pass me by. I did go to the interview and learned some interesting things: If you're ever behind in payments and you've got collectors calling (not the card itself) tell them you've already got a lawyer (give them a random lawyers name from the phone book) and are pursuing bankruptcy. That company will never call again - you might have another company call, but not the same one. Everything they say is a trick to scare you, "Has a law suit every been presented to you in the past?"

Let's see...still mourning Michael Jackson. Just changed my desktop to the lean in Smooth Criminal today. Another awesome thing about having an office...I can decorate it. It still has to be professional obviously, but I could get some nice framed photos of all my favorites. I bought a clock from Office Max that's made out of a recycled Warren Zevon record for $5! Course it doesn't work, which is why it was on clearance, but it looks awesome. Still thinking about what I'm going to substitute for the kids photos everyone always has at their desk. I don't have kids, so who's will I borrow? I thought about MJ's but that's creepy even for me. I think I'll just use the one's that come with the frame and when people ask, are those you're kids? I'll just say no, I don't know who's they are.

I have to go set up a film for one of the professors who isn't here, perhaps I'll think of more to write by the time I'm done.