The Weakerthans make my heart sing.
Sunday, July 24, 2011
Day Five: What song inspires you?
I dunno, maybe I'm not enough of a cool youngster anymore to really understand/appreciate what this question means. Maybe I've had one too many mojitos. What I do know is that there is one song that always manages to make me feel just a little bit better about life, or at least makes me want to try to feel better.
Saturday, July 23, 2011
Day Four: Parents!
Oh parents. I'm not always entirely sure how to explain my parents. My usual is just to say something like, "Once you meet my parents, I make a hell of a lot more sense." I'm a pretty well balanced representation of their DNA and quirks.
My dad fancies himself a modern day mix of Grizzly Adams and Jack Bauer. One day he hopes to live in the middle of the woods completely by himself. He used to tell my mom and I he was going to fake his own death and go to live in the woods so we could collect insurance. Nothing would tickle my dad more than being involved in a hold-up or attacked by a bear, so he can prove his stuff. He's also a teensy bit paranoid and a huge worrier. Because of these things, my daddy raised me to be a survivalist also. And a worrier. I can load, fire, and clean most guns, can use a bow and arrow with moderate proficiency, and I drive around town with a fully loaded "Oh S**T" can he made for me; stocked with MREs, fire starter kits, first-aid things, and water. Also, if the roommate is more than 20 minutes late from the time he is normally home and hasn't told me anything, I immediately begin to imagine horrible scenarios that could have been avoided if only he had my upbringing. My dad is also a negotiator of incredible skill, and raised me to be a salesperson (because everything is sales).
My mom... Oh my mom. Nothing really gets to my mom. She's got thick skin and a killer sense of humor that gets her through most days. Between both of my parents, I was raised never to expect much from my employers, but learned a lot of excellent coping mechanisms. My mom is snarky, sarcastic, and has feathers in her hair. Really. She's a cancer survivor, and one of the strongest women I know. Also, chemo taught me that she has a really weirdly shaped head. She is fiercely empathetic, which I know is a strange way to put it, thanks in part to raising two mental children (my brother has Asperger's Syndrome and I'm bipolar, though both of these went undiagnosed until we were much older). She also takes blood samples at the hospital and can spot a good vein from across a crowded restaurant, but can't tell you what color eyes somebody has after a 20 minute heart to heart.
My parents are both absolutely mad, and I love them crazy much.
My dad fancies himself a modern day mix of Grizzly Adams and Jack Bauer. One day he hopes to live in the middle of the woods completely by himself. He used to tell my mom and I he was going to fake his own death and go to live in the woods so we could collect insurance. Nothing would tickle my dad more than being involved in a hold-up or attacked by a bear, so he can prove his stuff. He's also a teensy bit paranoid and a huge worrier. Because of these things, my daddy raised me to be a survivalist also. And a worrier. I can load, fire, and clean most guns, can use a bow and arrow with moderate proficiency, and I drive around town with a fully loaded "Oh S**T" can he made for me; stocked with MREs, fire starter kits, first-aid things, and water. Also, if the roommate is more than 20 minutes late from the time he is normally home and hasn't told me anything, I immediately begin to imagine horrible scenarios that could have been avoided if only he had my upbringing. My dad is also a negotiator of incredible skill, and raised me to be a salesperson (because everything is sales).
My mom... Oh my mom. Nothing really gets to my mom. She's got thick skin and a killer sense of humor that gets her through most days. Between both of my parents, I was raised never to expect much from my employers, but learned a lot of excellent coping mechanisms. My mom is snarky, sarcastic, and has feathers in her hair. Really. She's a cancer survivor, and one of the strongest women I know. Also, chemo taught me that she has a really weirdly shaped head. She is fiercely empathetic, which I know is a strange way to put it, thanks in part to raising two mental children (my brother has Asperger's Syndrome and I'm bipolar, though both of these went undiagnosed until we were much older). She also takes blood samples at the hospital and can spot a good vein from across a crowded restaurant, but can't tell you what color eyes somebody has after a 20 minute heart to heart.
My parents are both absolutely mad, and I love them crazy much.
Friday, July 22, 2011
Day Three: Your first love
The year was 1991. He had wavy brown hair, that sexy stubble, rode a motorcycle, would tickle me until I screamed, "I'm going to pee my pants!!!", and threw me haplessly onto his trampoline because I was too short and scrawny and weak to get onto it myself. Alas, since I was about 3 and a half or 4 or something, and he was 20 something, I could never have my beloved Trent Blumenthal.
Most people will say that it was only crush and not real love. But you know what? Girls mature faster than boys and therefore we are totally capable of knowing true love by the age of 3.5-4.
Most people will say that it was only crush and not real love. But you know what? Girls mature faster than boys and therefore we are totally capable of knowing true love by the age of 3.5-4.
Thursday, July 21, 2011
Day Two: Nicknames!!
Day two is pretty self explanatory. I haven't had a whole lot of interesting nicknames, but there are PLENTY of them.
Sam - What most of my family and coworkers and friends call me. Because "Samantha" is three syllables and I am sympathetic to the idea that it's a bit of a mouthful. Also, "Samantha" has always been what my mother refers to as my "formal name". I used it at my last job, because I had to wear a tie. If that's not formal, I don't know what is. Not school.
Manthy/Manfa - It's a cutesy version of the second, oft-ignored part of my name. Used mostly by my mother, my aunt Kim, and one friend from High School.
Sammy - Seriously, one of my least favorites. My brother uses this and he's allowed to because he's my brother. My dad sometimes uses it also, and that's okay. Also all of the residents in the retirement home called me that, and THAT was okay because, dude. YOU try telling a 102 year-old "Don't call me that adorable nickname that denotes your affection for me."
EC, Chica - My handle back in the "LOTR IS THE GREATEST THING EVAH!!!" days (ages 13 - well, present. Nerd.) was ElvenChica. For no real reason, I just liked it. A few of the friends I made back in those days will still call me by one of those.
Cassie/ Miss Kaselis - My favorite math teacher couldn't remember my name for beans. I can't think of a single time he called me "Sam". Also, my last name isn't "Kaselis", although that's what it was before they "americanized" it. So points for trying.
Honorable mention: When he saw me in the hall with my best friend, we were "The Bobsie Twins".
Sammy Pants: One person calls me this. She's adorable and fantastic and full of joy, so I don't mind it.
"Godammit Sam!" - Pretty much my name at work. It's usually used in fun/love though... I think.
Sool - I almost forgot this one! I used it with a group of friends on ye olde LOTR forums. We used to do epic group collaborative fan fiction which was basically poking fun at everything in the world. It was amazing. And "ElvenChica" didn't flow in the conversational parts, so I named my character "Sool". Because my brother said it was a good idea, and since I was 13 and he was almost 18 and therefore my hero, I did it.
And that, as they say, is that.
Sam - What most of my family and coworkers and friends call me. Because "Samantha" is three syllables and I am sympathetic to the idea that it's a bit of a mouthful. Also, "Samantha" has always been what my mother refers to as my "formal name". I used it at my last job, because I had to wear a tie. If that's not formal, I don't know what is. Not school.
Manthy/Manfa - It's a cutesy version of the second, oft-ignored part of my name. Used mostly by my mother, my aunt Kim, and one friend from High School.
Sammy - Seriously, one of my least favorites. My brother uses this and he's allowed to because he's my brother. My dad sometimes uses it also, and that's okay. Also all of the residents in the retirement home called me that, and THAT was okay because, dude. YOU try telling a 102 year-old "Don't call me that adorable nickname that denotes your affection for me."
EC, Chica - My handle back in the "LOTR IS THE GREATEST THING EVAH!!!" days (ages 13 - well, present. Nerd.) was ElvenChica. For no real reason, I just liked it. A few of the friends I made back in those days will still call me by one of those.
Cassie/ Miss Kaselis - My favorite math teacher couldn't remember my name for beans. I can't think of a single time he called me "Sam". Also, my last name isn't "Kaselis", although that's what it was before they "americanized" it. So points for trying.
Honorable mention: When he saw me in the hall with my best friend, we were "The Bobsie Twins".
Sammy Pants: One person calls me this. She's adorable and fantastic and full of joy, so I don't mind it.
"Godammit Sam!" - Pretty much my name at work. It's usually used in fun/love though... I think.
Sool - I almost forgot this one! I used it with a group of friends on ye olde LOTR forums. We used to do epic group collaborative fan fiction which was basically poking fun at everything in the world. It was amazing. And "ElvenChica" didn't flow in the conversational parts, so I named my character "Sool". Because my brother said it was a good idea, and since I was 13 and he was almost 18 and therefore my hero, I did it.
And that, as they say, is that.
Wednesday, July 20, 2011
Day One (30 Day Challenge FTW!)
Challenges are fun and exciting. Like the challenge of seeing how far my mouse will go on "Low Battery", or how far my car will go on "Less than Empty", or waking up my boyfriend from a nap effectively (he hates waking up almost as much as I do) without making him want to punch me in the face. He would never actually punch me in the face, but I try not to antagonize him just because he's nice.
So this 30 Day "Blog-a-day" challenge is pretty exciting for me. I'm wretched at blogging every day, or almost every day, or... ever. But it's something I've always wanted to get into. So why not start with a super-fun-ultra-exciting-OMG-all-the-thinking-has-been-done-for-you challenge?
Day 1: Introduce, recent picture of yourself, 15 interesting facts.
My name is Samantha, I live in Washington. Not the rainforest-y green-all-the-time part, the other side. The dry side. I'm a waitress, which makes me super awesome to have as a customer in your restaurant.
3) My favorite "comfort food" is Velvetta Shells and Cheese with a can of tomato soup mixed in. YES.
4) I firmly believe that I will someday gain financial independence by saving all the loose change around me.
5) Put me in the kitchen, give me a task (simple, hard, average, doesn't matter), and I will manage to hurt myself 9 times out of 10.
6) When I was a kid, my ambitions for "when I grow up" were to either be a pony or a waitress.
7) I know many things about a lot of different stuff. The problem is it's usually all trivial "Hey, that's kinda cool!" stuff.
8) I love video games but, truth be told, am not very good at them generally.
9) My freshman year at college, somebody taught me how to knit a scarf. Nobody ever taught me how to do anything else, so to this day, I just knit scarves.
10) When I was a kid, if I had to use the bathroom at night I would flush the toilet and RUN back to my bed, dive in, and pretend to be asleep with devilish speed and then feel guilty the rest of the night because I was certain that flush had woken the whole household.
11) My dad is left-handed. I am left-handed. My dad is surprised by this almost every time he sees me write.
12) I usually prefer food with a crisp or crunchy texture. I'm going to be a miserable old person.
13) The only bones I've ever broken have been in my feet.
14) I have a pretty strong aversion to eating/drinking things that are coloured blue.
15) Eye contact makes me uncomfortable with people I know and trust. It's damn near unbearable with strangers. "What can I get for you today?" is a question I most often direct to a customer's menu, hat, necklace, etc.
So this 30 Day "Blog-a-day" challenge is pretty exciting for me. I'm wretched at blogging every day, or almost every day, or... ever. But it's something I've always wanted to get into. So why not start with a super-fun-ultra-exciting-OMG-all-the-thinking-has-been-done-for-you challenge?
Day 1: Introduce, recent picture of yourself, 15 interesting facts.
My name is Samantha, I live in Washington. Not the rainforest-y green-all-the-time part, the other side. The dry side. I'm a waitress, which makes me super awesome to have as a customer in your restaurant.
This is me after accidently bleaching myself at work last week.
1) My hands are nearly completely double-jointed. Also double jointed are my shoulders and hips. This sounds ultra cool, but mostly it means that I dislocate my limbs on accident and put them back into joint wrong.
2) I make awesome espresso drinks, but I prefer drip coffee for convenience and way more caffeine!!
3) My favorite "comfort food" is Velvetta Shells and Cheese with a can of tomato soup mixed in. YES.
4) I firmly believe that I will someday gain financial independence by saving all the loose change around me.
5) Put me in the kitchen, give me a task (simple, hard, average, doesn't matter), and I will manage to hurt myself 9 times out of 10.
6) When I was a kid, my ambitions for "when I grow up" were to either be a pony or a waitress.
7) I know many things about a lot of different stuff. The problem is it's usually all trivial "Hey, that's kinda cool!" stuff.
8) I love video games but, truth be told, am not very good at them generally.
9) My freshman year at college, somebody taught me how to knit a scarf. Nobody ever taught me how to do anything else, so to this day, I just knit scarves.
10) When I was a kid, if I had to use the bathroom at night I would flush the toilet and RUN back to my bed, dive in, and pretend to be asleep with devilish speed and then feel guilty the rest of the night because I was certain that flush had woken the whole household.
11) My dad is left-handed. I am left-handed. My dad is surprised by this almost every time he sees me write.
12) I usually prefer food with a crisp or crunchy texture. I'm going to be a miserable old person.
13) The only bones I've ever broken have been in my feet.
14) I have a pretty strong aversion to eating/drinking things that are coloured blue.
15) Eye contact makes me uncomfortable with people I know and trust. It's damn near unbearable with strangers. "What can I get for you today?" is a question I most often direct to a customer's menu, hat, necklace, etc.
Saturday, October 31, 2009
Day Ten
I have loved and I have lost
More than some, less than others
And it's carved into my being deep scars
Etched into my skin by burning hot irons of memory
And I hold my head high and show them off
"Look! How strong I have been made!
When fate has so often yanked people from my life
And lofted them up and out of my reach
Then struck down my grasping, now empty hands
See how well I sit so still
Hands folded in my lap like a Catholic school girl
Waiting for the iron rule to fall
Never straining to get hold of the shiny new toy to occupy my time and thoughts
To hold my hand
To cradle my head
See how well-behaved and patient am I!"
Because my hands are worn and damaged
In all reality
I'm simply unsure
That they could withstand even one more rap
More than some, less than others
And it's carved into my being deep scars
Etched into my skin by burning hot irons of memory
And I hold my head high and show them off
"Look! How strong I have been made!
When fate has so often yanked people from my life
And lofted them up and out of my reach
Then struck down my grasping, now empty hands
See how well I sit so still
Hands folded in my lap like a Catholic school girl
Waiting for the iron rule to fall
Never straining to get hold of the shiny new toy to occupy my time and thoughts
To hold my hand
To cradle my head
See how well-behaved and patient am I!"
Because my hands are worn and damaged
In all reality
I'm simply unsure
That they could withstand even one more rap
Friday, October 30, 2009
Unchaining
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Welcome to Unchained Utterances! I'm afraid there's not much to look at. The basic idea is that I wanted a place to put the poems I'm writing every day for a 365 project. I don't suppose that I'm the first to do something like this, but I hope that my own personal style will make it unique enough.
Some of the date stamps on this will be fudged a bit, but only to match the actual date they were written. I don't know if I'll be able to update the blog daily, but the dates will always be true to the time of penning.
Enjoy!
Welcome to Unchained Utterances! I'm afraid there's not much to look at. The basic idea is that I wanted a place to put the poems I'm writing every day for a 365 project. I don't suppose that I'm the first to do something like this, but I hope that my own personal style will make it unique enough.
Some of the date stamps on this will be fudged a bit, but only to match the actual date they were written. I don't know if I'll be able to update the blog daily, but the dates will always be true to the time of penning.
Enjoy!
Day Nine (mmm, contrived)
Oh most impressive mechanism
No lengths of engineering can duplicate
Your pristine and wondrous processes
Making cheeks flush
Creating the fluttering of butterflies from stomach to head
Sending waves of sadness shattering from fore to aft
Throwing flames of anger from raging inner volcanoes
Which lay dormant until triggered by minute stresses
Strongest of muscles
Yet so easily destroyed
Dashed by a word
A look
Demolished beyoond hope of repair
But this underground warrior is not so easily beaten
Like a phoenix it rises from ashes and splinters
Rebuilds itself bigger, stronger
More resilient
But with every crack a new layer of armor is laid
This is a self-preserving instrument
Handle with care
If not, you may never be given the chance
To make ammends
No lengths of engineering can duplicate
Your pristine and wondrous processes
Making cheeks flush
Creating the fluttering of butterflies from stomach to head
Sending waves of sadness shattering from fore to aft
Throwing flames of anger from raging inner volcanoes
Which lay dormant until triggered by minute stresses
Strongest of muscles
Yet so easily destroyed
Dashed by a word
A look
Demolished beyoond hope of repair
But this underground warrior is not so easily beaten
Like a phoenix it rises from ashes and splinters
Rebuilds itself bigger, stronger
More resilient
But with every crack a new layer of armor is laid
This is a self-preserving instrument
Handle with care
If not, you may never be given the chance
To make ammends
Thursday, October 29, 2009
Day Eight
Uninspired, slightly buzzed
Wishing life could go back to the way it was
When I was five and had no cares
Adult life... It really wears.
Wishing life could go back to the way it was
When I was five and had no cares
Adult life... It really wears.
Wednesday, October 28, 2009
Day Seven
Close my eyes, scrunch my nose
Spin around, strike a pose
Hold my breath, count to ten
Say it once and then again
"The sun is good, the rain is fine,
but the only weather on my mind
is white and frozen, flakes of ice
that dance like diamonds from the sky
So come on, climate, throw me a bone,
Just a few inches:
Spin around, strike a pose
Hold my breath, count to ten
Say it once and then again
"The sun is good, the rain is fine,
but the only weather on my mind
is white and frozen, flakes of ice
that dance like diamonds from the sky
So come on, climate, throw me a bone,
Just a few inches:
LET IT SNOW!
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