Week 14?? I lost track

Dear Princess Celestia,

This week I learned a very important lesson about friendship. I learned that even across the vast distance of half a continent, you can still count on your mother’s technological faux pas to cause you great amounts of frustration.

My mom and I are attempting to read the Buffy comics together. I got her the first few omnibuses (omnibusii?) for her birthday for approximately the same price as a cheese pizza. When I was in college, we used to read my monthly comics together over Skype. This was back before Grant Morrison killed everything I loved and I still was current on a lot of stuff. I didn’t want to bother changing the address for my comics every 20 weeks, so O had them sent home and she would read me the issues over Skype, enunciating onomatopoeia with a zest worthy of Adam West himself. How is it that in the course of a short year, she has lost all ability to operate one of the most vanilla of web applications?

So far, our attempts at reading Buffy have gone like so:

Me: Mom, turn your camera on.

Mom: It’s not wooooorking! I don’t know what’s wrong.

Me: Mom, press the camera button. It’s right at the top of the screen in that little grey bar.

Mom: It’s not working. It keeps giving me an error message.

Me: What error message?

Mom: I don’t knoooooow. Something like it can’t find a camera.

Me: Is your webcam plugged in?

Mom: What webcam?

Me:…The webcam that you use with this program designed for the express purpose of broadcasting your webcam’s feed to another user.

Mom: This isn’t the computer with the webcam on it. Should I be using that one?

Me:…

Me:…

Me:…Yes.

Not pictured: Gross amounts of technical difficulties

 In the month we’ve been trying, we have had one successful session. If progress continues, we may finish a volume before the year is out.

Speaking of things that fill the hollow husk of my soul with frustration: the New York State Highway and Road System. I have not, nor will I ever, make claims along the line of driving competency. However, there was one night this past month that I got so lost I suspect only a deep-seated government conspiracy could be responsible. In the Land of Logic and Grid Systems (aka everywhere else I’ve ever lived), usually missing a turn is no big deal. You just take the next turn and loop back around, because that is how Euclidean Geometry works. If you miss road A, all you have to do is turn on to road B, and then road C logically connects the two, because that is what roads do. They connect places to other places. In New York, such is not the case. Road A leads to your destination. Road B leads to Narnia.

One night I was trying to deliver the mail. Due to a sequence of events including aggressive drivers that wouldn’t let me into their lane and a general aversion towards fatal car crashes, I did not make the appropriate turn off. No big deal. I take the next turn off and backtrack. Ten minute detour tops.

Except that the next turn off, despite having the same name as my desired road, somehow led me to several corn fields. I had recently dropped my GPS on the head, too, so all my saved addresses had evaporated, and I didn’t remember the address I was going to off the top of my head. So I did the next logical thing. I looked at “points of interest” in my GPS to see if I could locate something that was familiar. Well, apparently a regional post office is not a point of interest, because it was nowhere to be found. However, as I frantically and illegally scrolled through the list of options on my GPS at a stoplight, I saw that there was a McDonald’s and a Wendy’s right next to each other. I thought, Oh hey yeah there’s like a McDonald’s and a Wendy’s real close next to where I’m going I bet that’s them and if I can find my way to them I’ll know where I am and I can get this increasingly awful night over with thank golly goodness I was about chew my own arms off in frustration let’s get this party started.

Well, as is probably not a surprise to anyone with a spoon’s worth of common sense and in retrospect embarrassingly obvious, it turns out that there are several locations on God’s green earth where the fast food lion and the transfat lamb lie down together. After inducing mild brain trauma by face-palming against the steering wheel, I finally pulled over and looked up directions on my phone. By that time, I had overshot my destination by fifteen miles. It took me an hour to complete a fifteen minute task.

Behold a completely unrelated picture from that time I went apple picking

I congratulated myself on being a total failure by stopping at the oh-so-elusive McDonald’s I had tried to locate before, and eating not only my emotions, but probably the emotions of everyone in the tri-state area. As I cried softly into a cheeseburger, I contemplated my day, and was struck with a realization: this shitty-ass day was still way better than a good day working at Target. That was enough consolation to defuse my ticking time-bomb of an emotional melt-down, and all was right in the world.

My increasing incompetence and inability to think well in the face of stress may have some correlation with the fact that the prescription for my anxiety medication ran out and I sure as hell am not going to pay money I don’t have to go get more. I always intended to wean myself off medication some day. Except now, “wean off” has become “cold turkey and learn to deal with it.” Life is funny like that.

Let’s see, what small morsels on non-angsting do I have to put in this post? I have started writing again. I’m really excited to do this project, and look forward to sharing it at some point in the future. But not until it is done, so don’t ask. Also, my card game project is regaining momentum after a short hibernation. Together with my loyal and generous art minions, we are about a third done with the first expansion. Exciting things are brewing in the world of non-profit fan-made card games!

Updated picture of the view from my apartment. Look at all the autumn.

Until next time, stay cool. And if someone could teach my mom how to use Skype that would be great. kthnxbai

Week 10: And it don't stop keep happening

Welp, I’ve been so lazy with updates, that for once I actually have too MUCH to write about. To keep this post from dragging on forever, I will consolidate my life happenings into dandy bullet points.

• I went to the New York State Fair with Kristen. There was an abundance of food, a vast percentage of which was deep-fried. I glutted myself with glee. Kristen spun tales of her skill at carny games, and took me to the midway to show me her prowess. She won me a Finn doll. I’ve always thought it would be super romantic to go to the fair and have someone win me a stuffed huggable. And I was right. He now chills in my cuddle puddle, which is what I roll around in when I am missing my dog and need to squish something.

This is what friendship looks like

• I was the official judge for the Dan vs. Joe Food Challenge. It was pretty neat. The increasing horror of our waiter as he brought out plate after plate of appetizers was a joy to watch. If the TGI Friday’s in the Destiny mall shuts down any time soon, just know that it was because we ate them out of business. I also got the unprecedented pleasure of helping a hammered Kristen home. Much to my relief, she did not vomit in my car. And thus, a victory.

• I was called as FHE coordinator for my ward (translator’s note for non-Mormons: they asked me to help plan a weekly social activity). It’s something I’m very excited to do, and I have a lot of ideas. When I asked what our budget was, my bishop just shrugged, so I am buying everyone ponies. We are all getting ponies and going on a pony ride. Just kidding, there will be no ponies. But I now have the power to force a moderate-sized group of people to do my bidding.

• I got some overtime at the office! Yay! That means I was able to pull together enough money to get plane tickets home for Christmas! I still wish there was a place to sell blood around here, though, because money is not something I have a decadent abundance of. Oh well, I can probably sell my liver on the black market. Anyone know any shady back allies soliciting organs for cash?

• I got a flat tire. It was awful and I hated every minute of it. I spent all of twenty minutes just figuring out how to get my stupid jack out of its snug berth. Turns out I’m stupid and couldn’t figure out that I need to unscrew the silly thing. Anyways, my strong independent woman streak continues.

This is the poopsicle that made me an hour late to work.

• Mother dearest and I are almost done watching Angel together. It kinda makes me sad, because then we won’t have anything to watch long-distance. Mutual adoration of Spike is about 75% of our conversations lately, and I’m just not ready for the hole in my life when that stops. I have a nefarious plan, though, that I cannot describe in detail until I set it into motion. Suffice it to say that Operation Birthday Bash is a go.

And there you have it. My life in a few nutshells for you. Maybe I’ll update again sometime in the next month. Have a good one~

Week 6 (Week 5 wasn't that important; you won't miss it)

Life is so awesome. Yay. So much adventure.

I didn’t write last week mostly because I procrastinated, but also because there was legitimately nothing exciting going on in my life. If this trend continues, I might have to start a hobo fight club, just to spice things up.

As it is, the only things I can think of that might be of the slightest interest is my visit to the mall. Yes. Going to the mall has been the high point of my life these past two weeks. I know. I live a hollow existence.

But wait! It wasn’t just any mall. It was Destiny USA, one of the most ridiculously large malls in America. Seriously, this thing is either a monolithic tribute to capitalism or a subtle satire of consumerist culture. This mall is so big, I would not be surprised if there is a small clan of people living undiscovered in its depths. They would be mall nomads, trekking from one Auntie Anne’s to the next (there is literally more than one Auntie Anne’s in this place). Perhaps they spend their nights huddled in the indoor racetrack. Or maybe they have adapted such that they sleep suspended from the high ropes course.

Anyways, yes, this mall is big. It has more stores than you can shake a stick at, and that isn’t just a silly expression. If you took a stick to the mall, and tried to shake it at every store in the place, you would probably get severe cramps.

I didn’t really buy anything, aside from some food, on account of me hoarding my money to pay people back. However, I did enjoy my tour. Here are some pictures:

Behold the Tree of Credit and BOGO

This is a sculpture. I think it’s supposed to be a tree. Anyways, I think this piece is supposed to represent how man is trying to replace the natural things in his life with cheap, man-made substitutes. Consider the imposing, sharp outline. It is clearly supposed to mimic a tree, but it also doesn’t hide the fact that it is made of metal. It is a bastardized commercialization of a free resource, mocking man’s attempts to buy happiness when happiness does not have a price. Also the red lights are clearly an attempt to summon the dark lord Satan.

I sincerely apologize to the random person I caught in this picture. Your privacy is being violated for my vanity blog.

And then there is this place. It’s just your standard frozen yogurt place, except Japanese themed. It’s called Sweet Yummy, and I cannot accuse it of false advertising. My inner weeaboo was pleased.

Welp, I managed to drag that out for a few paragraphs. I deem this post sufficiently informative. Have a nice week, y’all!

Week 4: One month down

I picked more than ten pounds of blueberries. TEN. POUNDS. I froze about three bags full, so I will have some cerulean sweetness come winter. And in a few weeks, raspberries will be in season. I’m going to be all over those puppies like a swarm of overenthusiastic fleas.

In non berry-obsession related news, I joined a sweet D&D campaign. I am a half-orc bard, which in non-roleplaying speak means my job is to sing songs in the sweet dulcet tones of a hulking monster. It’s like fashioning shoes out of broken glass, which is exactly why I chose the class. So yeah, I’m now an official high roller (holla).

All ==> Behold the glory of my couch

Thanks to the wonderful generosity of a coworker, I now have a couch upon which to slouch. This has increased nonproductivity in my apartment by 30%. Getting it into my apartment and out of the pouring rain was negative amounts of fun, though. The doorways were about an inch too narrow to fit things through, so there was a lot of contorting and exasperation. Originally, there was going to be a couch with a pullout bed, but it did not survive the war. Sorry, Mom, you’ll be sleeping on an air mattress when you come to visit. If you ever do. If you’re not too busy staying at home doting on your only grandchild instead.

I’m really starting to miss my little puppy the Schnee. =/ There’s no one to tease in my apartment. I am steadfastly resisting the urge to get a cat, because I don’t have the money right now. In the meantime, I’ll have to make do with dumb cat videos on the internet.

Rochelle sent me this picture of him sleeping. I look at it about twice a day.

Love, hugs, and imaginary cookies from Syracuse.

Week 3

Everything continues to be grand, dandy, and several other antiquated synonyms for spiffy. I continue my eternal struggle to feed and clothe myself and generally be self-sufficient. This week, I continued this trend by taking part in the age-old tradition of stockpiling for winter. I went and picked berries.

And let me tell you, was it great. I haven’t picked berries in over a decade, so I was itching for the chance to pluck and pick my own body weight in the sweetest of God’s creations: the blueberry. As you may or may not know, I have an unhealthy obsession with this most fickle of fruit. I crave it with the same undying hunger a zombie has for brains, and I will accept no substitutes. Do not give me blueberry ice cream or blueberry candy. You just can’t imitate the flavor with chemical machinations. Nope, I want the fruit itself. Unfortunately, it’s usually pretty pricey, so I have to satisfy myself with half a pint a month. But no longer!

I’ve wanted to pick berries for a few weeks now, but either it’s been raining or I haven’t had the cash or I don’t think I can afford to drive anywhere or what have you. But today, I could resist no longer. I researched patches online, then hopped in my car and navigated the needlessly complicated network of interlocking, overlapping, and criss-crossing highways known as the New York road system.

Unfortunately, after driving 20 minutes, I could not actually find the berry farm. I was devastated, but not deterred. Using the power of the internet and a smartphone, I located another nearby u-pick farm. This time, I was successful. And it only took me twice as long as originally planned! I arrived at stately Hafner Farms, hop-stepping with glee. I attacked those bushes, pulling out handfuls of berries.

Only a few minutes after I arrived, it began to rain. Everyone else on the field ran like a bunch of wicked witches from the water. But me? Heck no, girlfriend. I’m from Colorado; abrupt weather patterns don’t scare me. I wrestled on unphased through the rain. I was a little worried about my phone getting soaked, but luckily it was tucked under the protective shelf of my muffin top, and thus kept relatively dry. The rain continued for about twenty minutes and then went away. I continued picking a little longer. I would have stayed indefinitely, but you had to pay in cash, and I only had like a five dollar bill and a glove compartment full of change. But that was enough to get me a bucketful of berries.

 

Sweet, sweet, Cyanococcus

This is only about a third of the actual berries I picked. The rest made it to my mouth before they made it to home. If a small child ever saw the way I funnel blueberries into my mouth, they would probably be irrevocably scarred for life. So yeah, these puppies aren’t going to last long enough to freeze. However, I plan to go picking again next week, this time with TWO buckets and a lot more cash. And then in a couple of weeks raspberry season starts. It’s gonna be sweet.

Week 2

I never liked the idea of a journal blog, because quite frankly I think my personal life is boring. I mean, if I could choose to read my own autobiography or a neo-noir cyberpunk novel, I’m gonna go for the cyberpunk every time. But alas, if I do not post frequent updates, how will my dearly beloved family know what sort completely tame and uninteresting shenanigans I’ve been up to? So here goes.

This is a picture of my dining room. I like to live on the edge.

Well, it’s been two weeks now, and things are pretty swell. Being my father’s daughter, I am always on the lookout for ways to earn money on the side. So I poked around to see if there was a plasma donation center in the area. Not gonna lie, that was a pretty sweet gig back in college. You go read on a comfy little bed for forty-five minutes, and then they hand you some cash and a juice box and tell you to beat it. It made selling your body both fun and convenient!

…Unfortunately, my research has yielded nothing. Alas, if I want extra cash, I’ll probably have to earn it. Bleh.

So yeah, I’m thinking of making and selling dolls. Just last year I sold a pretty shitty doll for, like, 60 bucks. It’s not quite as easy as the liquid gold my body produces, but hopefully it will allow me to support my anime addiction.

This is a picture of the little dude that sold for bank.

In other news, I have been feeling that writing spark again. It’s less of a spark and more of an uncomfortable itching. In fact, I might just have a rash. But either way, I’ve been doing some writing here and there. Haven’t felt up to writing another novel, so mostly it’s just been really bad fanfiction. I want to start a webcomic, but I am hindered by my inability to render even the most basic of recognizable images. Still, that hasn’t stopped some people. So yeah, that is a distant possibility that I may or may not follow through on.

Hey, speaking of really shitty drawings, I’ve almost gotten all the art done for the base set of that card game I made. I say “really shitty” because I am finishing up the last of the cards that no one else was interested in drawing. So once that is done, I’ll be very happy for a few days, probably giggle to myself at random intervals, and just generally be on an elevated level of happiness.

As far as being a strong independent woman who don’t need no man goes, I managed to check all the fluids in my car successfully. I was pulling dipsticks and everything. I am proud to give my car a full bill of health, while also reminding it that I am not a licensed car doctor and it can’t sue for malpractice in the event of an accident.

That’s all I have to report for this week. Maybe I’ll take up some sort of self-destructive habit so I have something more interesting to write about next time. Anyways, hugs and kisses from Syracuse.

Week One

I’m not one to write about my life and publish it on the internet, because I think it’s kind of crazy to assume that anyone is going to care. But since I recently went through some life changes, and since I am separated from my loved ones by half of the United States, I decided to start a blog to post weekly updates.

My apartment. So sugoi.

My life in Syracuse has been pretty sweet. I’ve learned a thing or two (four, according to the numbers below) in my time in the city. Here is my wisdom, condensed into an easily readable list format.

1. People assume I am an idiot as soon as they see my Colorado license plates. I guess they think I’m some sort of Southern hick that came to the big city. Everywhere I go, people ask why the heck I would move up here, and ask if life in the city is a big change. It’s kind of funny, considering Colorado Springs is much larger than Syracuse, albeit with a much lower population density. I feel super self-conscious driving these unfamiliar streets, because I can feel the other drivers watching my blunders. Silently judging. I should get a bumper sticker that says “Not a statistically accurate representation of Colorado driving skills.” This leads into number two.
2. There are no straight lines in the city of Syracuse. If you want to get from Point A to Point B, prepare to take twice as long as you think it should. All the roads here are hella crazy, with no real distinction between a residential road and a thoroughfare. Also, construction sites grow like weeds, popping up overnight and then taking a lifetime to go away. I distinctly remember one morning deciding to take a different route to work, to avoid a certain neighborhood. Well, theoretically it would have been a fine idea, taking me barely a minute longer according to my GPS. But then I ran into a construction site. And then another. And then another. I literally kept turning down one street, running into a roadblock, and then trying to take a different street just to run into another. Good thing I leave for work neurotically early.
3. Everyone is crazy obsessed with Wegman’s. It’s this grocery store, and yeah, it’s pretty cool. But to hear a New Yorker talk about it, it sounds like the mystical gateway to a fairy realm where the tea is magic and every day is sunshine.
4. Syracusians(is that a word?) are very friendly. I was told by a handful of people before I moved that the average New Yorker is very cold and reserved, but I have not found such to be the case. Everyone I’ve met, from cashiers to people on the street, is very patient and understanding. Especially the parking attendants. Probably because they see my license plate and know I have no idea what I am doing.

The view from my window. Very green.

All in all, I’ve really been enjoying my time here. My apartment is luxurious, my job is awesome, and I feel like a strong independent woman who don’t need no parent’s basement to live in. I’ll write another update in a week, unless I forget. Or am lazy.

Cheers!