Thursday, June 29, 2006
I saw this picutre on MSn "Animal Tracks." I feel so bad for this poor turtle. Here he is, a million years old and all alone. I just want to bring him home and let him watch Animal Planet all day or whatever it is that a turtle would like to do. It's these kinds of stories that make me enough of an environmentalist for my staunch Republican family to refer to me as the "bleeding heart liberal." Here's the story:
So lonely... : "Solitario George" (Lonely George), the last known alive giant tortoise of this species, native from the Pinta Island, is seen at the Galapagos National Park on Santa Cruz Island. For 40 years, the authorities of the park have been offering 10,000 US dollars to whomever finds a female for "Solitario George." (AFP/Rodrigo Buendia)
Friday, June 23, 2006
One common thread running strongly through all the members of my family is that we're all strange sleepers. I have walked and talked in my sleep all my life and I have CRAZY dreams. When we were young and shared a room, my sister and I would hold full fledged conversations, even arguments in our sleep. My parents finally put us in separate rooms so everyone else in the house could get some sleep. Even our dogs have dreams and whine and pretend to run in their sleep. Now that I'm a grown up and I live alone, I don't hear the stories about my sleeping mishaps but I have a couple good recent ones about my fam. The other night J.D. was asleep and he was having a dream that he was telekinetic and he was practicing his newfound skill by moving objects around with his mind. When he woke up, his bedroom was completely destroyed. He had turned everything over and moved everything around. He is either really telekinetic or he got up in his sleep and tore apart his room. (Obviously, the latter is the one I'm putting money on.) J.D. has wanted to be a superhero since he was a little boy so I'm sure he's hoping for the real life telekenesis aspect. Most of my family members have vivid dreams and when we wake up, we have a hard time shaking the feeling accompanying the dream ie: anger, sadness, hapiness. My mom had a dream last night that she and I had an argument and she emaild me the description this morning, demanding an apology. Here's her description: "I can't really remember. I only remember that we were in your car. I had just done a favor for you (I cant remember what) and we were leaving Taco Bell. I wanted you to take me straight to work but you said no and if I wanted to go to work I would have to walk from your house. I jumped out of the car but held onto the seatbelt and stretched it out about 20 yards while running in the other direction. You stopped the car and got out and started yelling at me for stretching out your seatbelt. So I started wrapping the seatbelt around you. Next thing I know, I am in this house (I've never seen before) and I telling your dad how mad I am at you and I can see you walking out the front door of the house. Your dad is telling me not to worry and he will take me to work but I know I will be late. Then I woke up. So where is my apology?" I told her I'm truly sorry that she's a crazy person.
Monday, June 12, 2006
As a woman, I can't help but notice that men are sometimes strange creatures. Some of my favorite people are men and I adore them but some behaviors are hard for me to wrap my mind around. I have recently been noticing an increase in one of the most mind-bogglind displays of manhood. Perhaps some of my male readers can enlighten me as to the cause of this behavior... Why do men pretend to be showcasing their athletic ability at the same time as they're talking to me? Some men shoot an imaginary basketball into an immaginary hoop. Some men swing at a golf ball and stand at attention as they watch it land on the imaginary green. Some of them even put their hand to their forehead like they're blocking the sun so they can see better. The worst offenders get into full baseball batting stance and swing away. I don't understand it. What are they doing? Are they really so obsessed with sports that they feel the need to practice their moves ALL the time, even in the middle of a conversation? Or is this some kind of nervous tick that allows men to not have to focus on the conversation at hand? Is this a man's way of not-so-discreetly saying, "I'm not paying attention to you right now so you might as well stop talking" or are they trying to say, "I think you're pretty so I'm trying to impress you by giving you a little preview of how good I am at golf." Maybe they're trying to start a conversation about something they're knowledgeable in but it seems easier for them to just say, "Hey, I know a lot abot baseball. Wanna talk about it?" rather than their chosen display of silly acrobatics. Seriously, it seems so strange to me. When they start doing that, I can hardly keep from laughing out loud and I'm worried I'm going to hurt someone's feelings one day.
Tuesday, June 06, 2006
My living room. I had J.D. stand in there so you can tell how small it is. This is by far the bigest room in the place.
My bedroom. The bed barely fits in there.
I built this platform for the bed myself but I must have measured wrong because when I was done it was 4'6'' tall and covered most of the window. It was kinda wobbly too. My dad had to come fix it before I could go to bed. He shortened the legs and made it more sturdy. This is the finished product.
My living room.
My bathroom. Also tiny. Good thing I'm not one of those girly girls who spends hours in there every day. No offense to all you girly girls. I think you look very nice.
There is just enough space behind the front door for me to be able to keep my bike inside. That was one of the reasons I took this apartment. To answer all of Mark's, "How do you afford to live in San Diego?" quesions; this is how. I live in a shoe box. But I have the ocean 4 blocks away to either side of me. I love it. Lexi and I go down to the beach twice a day and just hang out. It's so nice. Jen, I know you're so jealous right now. You should come visit me. You can sleep under my bed.