Bathroom Smiley Face Bandit

I drew a smiley face in the ladies room at work.

To explain:

The bathrooms here have two stalls.  (Well, I assume they both do; I have only been in the ladies room.  Not brave enough for covert expeditions.)  Across the doors of the door stalls is a shiny stainless steel metal bar.

Do other people sit in the bathroom stall and look around and think interesting thoughts and enjoy that ME time way more than when they are sitting in their office?  I do.  I sit there and think up stories.  Or I imagine what would happen if I made a really dramatic, loud noise, and then when people came running in to see what happened, they would look at me and I would be all like, “What noise?  I didn’t hear any noise.”  That’s funny to imagine.

(If I had ever gotten around to importing my archives, I would now link to a funny experiment I did while sitting in a public bathroom back when I was in college at the University of Vermont.  Unfortunately, I can’t do that.  Maybe some day I’ll import that data.)

ANYway, I noticed over the course of months and months that the stainless steel bar never got dusted, so it was coated in a thin film of…what?  Dead skin cells?  Germs?  Toilet paper fibers?  I am now extremely curious about the chemical and particle makeup of that dust.

Finally one day, as I was preparing to leave, I reached up and drew a little smiley face in the dust.  It was a simple smiley, like this one: :) only right side up.  I was very proud of my smiley, because I imagined that other people might see it (which suggests that I really believe other people are not all business in bathroom stalls either) and would think it was funny or annoying or creative or whatever the heck people think, because art is in the eye of the beholder.  And most of all, they would wonder who did it.  Who is the mysterious bathroom smiley face bandit?

They probably know it is me, by a simple process of elimination.  I am the only cornball in the office.  Everyone else?  Straight shooters.

My smiley face was there for weeks and weeks.  I was very impressed with it, because it was an everlasting fixture to: a) my radical artistic statement; b) our cleaning lady’s oversight.

Today I noticed that the bar has been dusted and is all shiny clean.  There is a little part of me that is melancholy.  But there is another part that can’t wait for dust to accumulate again so that the bandit can strike again!  Bwahaha!

:)

Unrelated: I am going to revive this blog.  I’m going to do a new layout, and get my archives imported, and everything.  But that is not going to happen right away, because I’m going on vacation Sunday for a week, so woo!

Wherefore to blog?

Is it just me, or has the blogging craze passed?  Or maybe it’s just passed for people at my age or stage in life?  Do people age out of personal blogging?

If you take the “stage in life” track, then I suppose there is a resurgence when people get married, have children, etc.  But during those in-betweeny years, after college, after grad school, before the next Major Life Event ™, there’s a blog famine.

I don’t think this is something that has been extensively studied yet, since blogging has only been around for, what, a decade?  But it will be.  They will start releasing studies of the blogging trends, etc.  Maybe they already have and I just haven’t noticed.

At any rate, here am I.  Trying to think of a reason to blog, to justify keeping this domain name that I like so much.  Ah well.

Look Look. See Katie. See Katie Post.

Surprised?  You should be.  I don’t even check my email anymore…let alone blog or read blogs.  Being a grown-up is biz-zay.   Quick update:

 1. The reason I disappeared shortly after my January 2, 2008 post is because on January 10 of that same year, I had the most amazingly fantastic first date of my life.  He and I are now at about 1 year and 4 months.  For blogging purposes, we shall call him M.

2. The honeymoon phase of my relationship wore off ages ago, but I was further distracted by my AWESOME NEW JOB.  Government records management is loverly.  I like my boss(es), I like my coworkers, I like my office, I like my actual work, I like my salary and benefits.  I am happy happy happy.  But the problem with working for the government is that there’s too much work and not enough employees.  Therefore, biz-zay biz-zay biz-zay.

3. New bachelorette pad!  No water pressure, but nice kitchen tile.  Better location.  Not skanky.  Definite upgrade from last year, but still can’t beat my cute awesome little grad school efficiency.

Life is good.  Life is great.  Maybe I’ll post more than once a year.  Maybe not.  The suspense (and lack of readership) is palpable.

New Year’s Resolution

I have other resolutions, but here’s the first.  I resolve to be more punctual.  In order for me to do that, I really shouldn’t have gotten on the Internet before work in the first place.  Oh well.  Off I go!

Roger Whittaker’s 12 Days of Christmas

Hello Internet!  I’m not dead, just overextended.  The blog doesn’t a) bring home the bacon, b) shelter or feed me, c) love and cherish me for all my days.  So it’s the first thing to go.  :P

This song is on my Time Life Treasury of Christmas album.  I don’t know who the heck Roger Whittaker is or why this song of his is considered a classic, but he sounds like Frasier.

Cherry Mistmas.

Jonathan Strange & Mr. Norrell


Bachelorette Pad!

I am the proud renter of an apartment!  I looked at it yesterday and wrote a deposit check on the spot; today I signed the lease and got the keys.

What makes this apartment so wonderful is that, for the first time, I actually have correctly apportioned rooms.  By this I mean that for the first time I have a real kitchen with space for a kitchen table; a living-room shaped living room with space for a couch, chair, bookcase, tv, etc.; a closet with space for clothes, etc.; a separate closet with space for linens, storage, etc.; and the pièce de résistance: a bedroom with space for a bed!!!

Neither of my first two apartments had a bedroom.  In my first apartment I had my bed sort of sticking out in the middle of the room next to the kitchen table (not in the kitchen).  In my second apartment I had no bed at all, and instead slept on a smaller-than-twin-sized futon mattress in the very center of my one room, so that I basically had to step on it to get from anywhere to anywhere else.  But now I have a bedroom.  I real bonafide bedroom with windows and a door and just the right amount of space for a bed and a desk or dresser and perhaps something else.

You have no idea what this means to me.

The rest of the apartment is awesome too.  Especially the kitchen, which is small but adorable.  It has a nook.  A nook for a table.  In the kitchen.  You don’t understand the importance of this concept for me.

What else makes my apartment so awesome, you ask?  Why, the fact that it’s in the town I grew up in, of course.  So I will feel way more than right at home.  More awesomely, my place is almost literally downtown.  I’m within very easy walking distance of the entire gamut of town stuff.  Two blocks from the library on Main Street.  Everything else is within another block or two or three.  Grocery store, movie theatre, video store, chinese takeout, french cafe catered by the New England Culinary Institute, the best pad thai ever made, coffee shops, Ben & Jerry’s, lots o’ cute clothing/book/trinkety stores, State House lawn (for summer concerts, fireworks, etc.), elementary and middle schools (for events and volunteering), auto garage, hardware store, bike path, performance theatre (for community plays/musicals), dance studio (for tap dancing class), hairdresser, post office.  My bank, the high school, and the co-op are a slightly longer but still very reasonable walk away.

I’m still only about half an hour from work.  The apartment’s in an adorable neighborhood of huge old wonderful houses converted into multiple apartments.  It’s quiet, clean and very respectable.  Off-street parking right next to my door, which is outside entry and even has an awning.  Lots of windows so I can finally have an apartment with a) light, b) air circulation.  The heat works extremely well without being stuffy (perfect for the perpetually-cold me who cannot, alas, breathe very well in hot air).  The rent is unbelievably low for the town, the location, and the apartment.  I’m allowed to have Flakey, and it looks like there are occasional mice, which means he’s going to love it too.

Best of all, it’s the first place I’ve ever had that I can think of as something other than temporary.  In my first place, I knew I would only be there for a few years until I went back to school.  In my second place I knew I would only be there for two years while I was in grad school.  Now I’m not going anywhere, because I love my job and I’m happy.  So this is a real home.  A permanant-until-someday home.

Dude.

The move-in process will be slow and drawn out, I’ll link to pictures as they’re available.  I should probably have the electricity turned on first.

Happy Tuesday morning

Huzzah!  Two-day work week!  Finish today, then off the family’s camp to write write write.

It’s snowing!  This is not remarkable, since the ground has been covered with 3 inches of snow since Friday, but it’s still wonderful and beautiful and happy-making!

All hail the viking princess!

Attention!  VIN (Very Important News) to follow!

My aunt has been researching the ancestry of her family, and has been successful in tracing the family’s lineage all the way back to…

…a viking king.

That’s right, folks.  I am the direct descendant of a viking king.  We even have a family (clan?) crest!

This explains everything.  I can’t tell you the sense of identity that this gives me.  I now truly understand who I am. 

From now on, I’m going to tell the kids at school that they had better behave for me or else, because I’m a viking!

Miscellanea, on my writing

Considering that the per-day quota for NaNoWriMo is 1,667 words, and that I’m at 1,282 total, I don’t think I’m going to make it to 50,000 by the end of the month.  You know, whoever decided that November was the month for this project is an idiot.  November is one of the most difficult months of the year!  What with family and friends events over Veteran’s Day, and of course Thanksgiving, it’s impossible.  Not to mention that November is a terrible month for students and educators.  That means me.  I think that next year NaNoWriMo should be in Febuary.  Absolutely nothing interesting happens in February.

Tonight I peeked at some of my other writing, which was mostly stuff I started before grad school, or during the summer between my two years.  I assumed that, like most of my stuff, it would be crappy drafts or incomplete ideas.  A couple of things, however, were actually quite good when I read them.  I realize now that perhaps I could actually write something decent and publish it.  To think!

One in particular struck me.  It’s a first person account told in small bursts of three or four paragraphs each.  Every odd ‘chapter’ is the story itself.  The even ‘chapters’ are reflective or remeniscent on the MC’s part.  I had only written the first four chapters, but they’re quite good.  I think I’ll actually finish this one, and it should turn into a decent short story.  :)

Another that I’m interested in doing is something that isn’t actually written down, but it’s been in my head for quite a while.  It’s basically epistolary, with two characters writing letters to each other.

As an aside, I’ve noticed that almost all my stories have a back-and-forth structure like these two.  Exchanged letters, alternating between general and linear–  My book, in particular, has a structure that goes back and forth between two time periods.  How odd that I’ve developed a stylistic tendancy without actually completing anything.

Anywho, nothing gets done by blogging.  Off to write!

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