Two Weeks

Today I finally gave my two weeks notice at my job. The anticipation was really the worst part of it. I think I either made myself physically ill this week from fretting about it, or I picked up a stomach bug. Or both. I definitely feel a good bit better than I did (I was pretty sure I was going to puke for a while there), but not great. Although I'm still pretty anxious, so it could still just be nerves.

So far everyone who knows has been really good about it, and very encouraging. Except I guess for my boss Jeff, but he's... Jeff. He just kind of said "okay" and asked me when I wanted my last day to be. Which is better than it could have been (especially since I'm leaving right at the start of the worst part of the year for our department), and it was probably about as much as I could handle right then anyway. Karen and Kim have been really supportive and fantastic. And my teammate Sara is jealous, but she's on her way out in August anyway, so she won't have to be jealous long.

And so. Onward and upward, moving right along, and all of that goodness.

History

I recently read Billy Bragg's book, the Progressive Patriot, something I've been meaning to do for a good while now. It was different from what I guess I expected, but not in a bad way. A mixture of personal and familial history, general British history, music history, and reflection on what this "Britishness" actually is that apparently everyone is feeling the loss of but which no one bothers to define. I was especially interested by his use of diary excerpts from previous generations, which made me think about how different diaries were then from what passes for diaries now. It's not even that they were more introspective or anything; most of the entries seemed to be statements of fact about the wars, how many lives lost, how many bombs dropped, one day that was remarkable simply because there wasn't an air raid. There didn't even seem to be any personal reflection, just statements of fact and that was all that was noteworthy. Compare that to my own diaries over the years... just whining and grousing and talking about pepto bismal and contradictory statements and complaining about my brother and on and on ad nauseam. Or even to most blogs I've seen (or written) which are nothing but personal reflections and completely ignore what's going on in the world. If future generations by some misfortune stumbled upon any of my blogs, would they even know there's been a war going on? Or would they think the only things happening at this period of American history were bargains on videos (although I guess that could demonstrate the dire straits our economy is in).

The fact of the matter is, everything America's been doing overseas in the recent past is practically incomprehensible to me, so it's hard for me to reflect on it much. And I never thought war should be the only thing we learn about in history class, although that's how I remember everything being taught. Which may be why I was never all that interested in history until I started reading books about old movies. History needs to relate to something we can understand and appreciate, and I've never understood wars or power struggles. I can't imagine ever wanting something enough to kill or die for it, let alone enough to send thousands and thousands of strangers off to kill and die for it. And let's face it, at least in the history classes I've had, we were taught next to nothing about the Middle East anyway, so it's not like we were prepared to understand anything that's been going on. Because everything that's happened recently is tied to everything that's happened in the past, and since I don't comprehend the past I have trouble understanding the present situation.

I definitely didn't understand the general reaction to Bin Laden's assassination, for one thing. To be honest, I'm still waiting for the other shoe to drop, and I don't see how people could be celebrating in the streets. Not only because I don't understand celebrating someone being killed, but also because I don't understand celebrating when you have to realize there will probably be very nasty consequences for killing him. That night I was actually over at a friend's house and near a tv (both most unusual), so for once I was able to see the news when it was still relatively fresh. We were all sitting around full of home-smoked meat and watching Super Troopers, when our host's sister came in and told us to put on the news. And while hundreds were probably shooting off fire crackers, we all had a collective "Oh, shit" moment.

Oh, shit, he's actually dead after all this time.

Oh, shit, WE killed him.

Oh, shit, this is going to piss off a lot of very dangerous people.

Oh, shit, how are people celebrating? Do they really think this is the end of it?

Oh, shit, what now?

But hey, maybe this will somehow be a good thing. Maybe this is a step toward peace and not a step toward even more war. You never know.

After all, I wasn't a history major.

Who Says Money Can't Buy Happiness?

1 Blockbuster going out of business + $80 of hard-earned moneys = cinema happiness.

You know when people say "It was like being a kid in a candy store"? This is when a movie nerd like me says it. All those years when my family and I were actual card-carrying Blockbuster members (instead of the netflix consumers we have become. I mean, the nearest movie store was half an hour away; it was bound to happen), I dreamed of being able to walk down those aisles and just grab every movie I loved off the shelves and take them home forever and ever and ever. So as guilt-riddled as I felt showing up for the first time in years for the sole purpose of cleaning them out, it was a total dream come true. The sales clerks were good sports about it, even though I did buy Back to the Future 1, 2, and 3 out from under one of them (I didn't have the heart to tell him they're for my girlfriend. I'm sure I'll enjoy them too).

My glorious 15 or so new acquisitions + me buying Spaced online = happiness

So who says money can't buy you happiness? I can curl up with Simon Pegg, Marilyn Monroe, Audrey Hepburn, and my girlfriend (hi, honey!) all in one weekend. Who could want anything more?

Illustration Friday - Swarm

It's been a while since I've felt inspired by Illustration Friday. The word this week reminded me of a series of drawings I always wanted to do but never did, so I finally let one of these strange visions out. Lord only knows where or when I first started having this idea of butterflies as things of menace as well as beauty, but it's certainly been with me for at least the past few years. Someday I'll have to scan some of my etchings from my last year in art school. I started writing this whole visual fairytale about an androgynous girl being attacked by a faceless, tuxedoed magician figure and his butterflies...

They really do swarm, though. Seriously, type monarch butterfly swarm into google image search. Then tell me you wouldn't be terrified if you saw that gorgeous insect army descending.

Ads.

I am endlessly amused (and somewhat frustrated) that facebook is apparently convinced that I am: Christian, married/engaged, and pregnant. How it got any of these impressions is completely beyond me. I have tried to discourage it, repeatedly indicating that these ads are uninteresting to me, and yet they persist.

For the record, I am in fact: agnostic, of Jewish blood and heritage, in a relationship but neither married nor engaged, and absolutely not even a little bit pregnant, nor even in the market for any kind of sperm getting near me for any purpose.

Maybe since facebook is now apparently EVERYWHERE, not just on its own website (seriously, it creeps me out that I even have the option of "liking" things on facebook when I'm nowhere near the facebook website), they'll read this blog and get the hint. More likely, they'll just see the buzz words Christian, married, engaged, and pregnant, and inundate me with even more irrelevant ads.

Like a Chicken With Its Head Cut Off...

I can't help it. Every time I go to Petsmart, I fall in love. But c'mon, wouldn't you? Look at her! There's even a little note on her cage saying to please not remove her bed.

{I think my surviving cat is jealous of how much I want this cat. As I was typing this post, she chased and devoured a cricket (pretty much my favorite insect) right in front of me. Beast.}

How to Recognize an Awesome Girlfriend

This weekend, the only thing I really felt like doing was watching How to Steal a Million. It was one of the first movies I grabbed when I was helping my mom's library dispose of its VHS collection. We have two VCRs in my house, one of which is very reliable, and the other of which is total crap that is constantly malfunctioning and has a history of eating tapes. So obviously, I chose to watch it on the crap VCR, and it was instantly sucked in, chewed up, and spit out in a tangled mess. Being all PMSed up, and really loving that movie and wanting to see it, I was very upset. Two days later, I get a dvd copy in the mail, ordered by my girlfriend :)