I took a late lunch break today.  Not suspecting the horror that was about to transpire, I calmly wandered into the kitchen with my cell phone, thinking about my frozen lean cuisine lunch and wondering if maybe, just maybe, this time it wouldn't taste like cardboard.

All was proceeding as it should. The frozen lunch went into the microwave and I sat down at the table to wait when I heard something, something that didn't belong.  Something.... buzzing.  Slowly, filled with dread, I turned and looked over at the window directly behind me, only to come face to face with a hornet.

So lately I've been very committed to getting healthier (and more importantly back into my expensive jeans that I haven't been able to squeeze myself into for ages). This has involved being very motivated to work out and eat properly. The exercise and the eating healthy is working out pretty well for me - I've been feeling more energetic during the day, I'm seeing some progress on the scale, and most importantly, I'm really proud of myself. It's a great feeling.

Axe. They have all these hideously sexist commercials that invariably leave me massively irritated every time I accidentally see one. I've managed to successfully avoid them for quite a while now, but the other day Jordan and I were pulling up something to watch on Hulu, and lo and behold, a commercial for the new "Axe Detailer" paraded itself before my eyes.

I love my new job. I really do. The constant challenges of real estate are always exciting to me, and I love the small group of people I work with. But when my boss asked me to schedule a photo shoot for new team photos and a portrait of me for my business cards, I immediately hated my life. Having my picture taken is something I'm usually okay with, but a professional photo shoot? Ack!


Dutifully I called the photographer and scheduled the appointment, and on the assigned day, the three of us - myself, my boss, and the buyer agent - all drove to the studio. The photographer instantly put me at ease and I started to relax. She was gentle, soft spoken, and her studio felt homey. She chatted with us for a while, then sent us to the area where she planned to take her pictures. I looked down to make sure I was standing where she had asked me to, and when I looked back up, everything had changed.



Her eyes blazed red behind her camera, and I swear I could see tiny horns poking up from her forehead. "Rebecca! Get closer to Frank! Get that hair out of your eyes! Rob! Put that hand in your pocket!" The orders were barked with ferocity, and we scrambled to obey. She grinned at us, baring sharp, pointed teeth. "HAPPY HAPPY HAPPY!" I managed a bright false smile, shaking in my 4" heeled pumps.



The ordeal continued for several excruciating minutes as she snarled and snapped. Finally she walked over to me and raked my bangs out of my face. "Do you have any hairspray?" she asked. I told her I didn't, and felt my eyes widen as her eyes flared a brighter red and steam trickled out of her ears. "I'll fix it with Photoshop," she grated to herself. I resolved to have at least eight cans of hairspray in my car from then on out.



The shooting continued until she was satisfied. "All right," she said cheerfully, all trace of the demonic presence inhabiting her slight frame gone without a trace. "Let's take a look!" She loaded the photos onto her computer and projected the results onto a screen against the far wall. She offered friendly, gentle advice on which photos she would recommend. When we had decided, she turned to me. "We're doing a portrait of you by yourself, right?"



And it started all over again.



By the end of the two and a half hours that we were there, I felt like I had been raked over the coals. But the photos turned out nicely.

SleepyJane just asked me what my thoughts were on the fourth season of Supernatural, and I'm sorry to say it opened the floodgates.

Clothes

It was Friday night when I broke.

One thing I haven't done near enough of in my life is travel.

When I was much younger my family would take cross country road trips from Washington to the east coast to visit family, so I have seen quite a bit of the U.S. But as far as my adult life goes...

I went to Boston that one time?

There are so many places to see in this world, and no good reason not to see them. I had this idea in my head that travel was astronomically expensive, out of reach for a small town office drone like myself. Then my cousin flew out from Boston. Total price of his round trip tickets? Around $300.

I did some quick searching and found I could end up in a lot of places in the U.S. for under $200, and outside of the U.S. for under $600. Completely shattered the "traveling is WAY to expensive for ME" thought, and left me with a fair amount of excitement. Working on my finances for a month or two has freed up a surprising amount of money, and if I was so inclined, I could afford to head out of town right now.

My new plan is to try to take two trips a year. One within the U.S. and the other outside of the U.S. I'm not going to have any destination in mind, I'm just going to check around, find out where it would be cheapest to fly to, and head there for a few days to a week. I'll see places that I never would have chosen to visit, and while this may or may not be a good thing, at least I'll have seen them.

Most of my vacation time has been eaten up by taking days off here and there, then the week long vacation last week, but I plan to go somewhere random this fall. Maybe September or October.

It's going to be difficult for me. I've been described as a "homebody" on more than one occasion, and I can't in all honesty deny it. What can I say? I love sleeping in my own bed. But... there will really never be a better time to start seeing new places. I'm not married. I don't have children. I don't have major debt. And I don't want to be sitting in my rocking chair knitting socks when I'm eighty thinking to myself, "man, I wish I had actually done some of that stuff I talked about doing when I was younger."

It's within reach. Not necessarily within easy reach, but with a touch of planning and good financial management, definitely within reach. Now all that's left is to do it.

My cousin Jared and I. Good times. =)

While Becca is a touch disappointed that there is simply nothing to be done about her huge nose, she does love her new haircut.

I know it's time for a haircut when my mom has been haranguing me about it for about a month, and throwing it, still damp, into a ponytail before I go to work starts to seem acceptable. Happily, my delightful 19 year old sister has contracted a friend of hers to cut my hair today.

Fortunately this friend isn't some random 20 year old with grand aspirations and a pair of dull scissors just waiting to butcher a haircut. This friend went to haircutting school*, has been working for a while at an upscale salon, and gave my sister one of the best haircuts she's ever had, so I have faith in her abilities.


But.


I have guilt. Serious guilt.

I've been going to the same hairdresser for years. And by years I mean that I've been visiting her whenever my hair starts to look like an encounter with a weed whacker would do it some good since I was a child. This will be the first time ever I've had someone other than Belinda cut my hair. I feel like I'm betraying her, especially in this tricky economic time when it's more important than ever to keep loyal clients.

But this girl, Caroline's friend... she's coming to my house to cut my hair, which means I don't have to try to get off of work early. And, umm, haircutting house calls. How could I resist?

I may have trouble sleeping tonight, but I'll just keep repeating haircut house call, I'm saving gas money, haircut house call, I'm saving gas money...

Nope, not helping. Guilt. I have it.

*I actually have no idea where people go to school to learn how to cut hair. I guess it's not called "haircutting school", but you get my point. ^_^

I've had a string of odd encounters while living in my duplex.  Take a look at Part 1 and Part II.  Actually... does three count as a string?  How many encounters would it take before it became a string?

The Boston Public Gardens are absolutely beautiful. My sister and I spent quite a bit of time wandering around the park.

Do I even need to say anything about this? Seattle sure as hell doesn't have anything this cool. The Space Needle? PFFFFT.

Or, as I was instructed later by my aunt, "Hah-vahd Yahd".

Little sis Caroline and I went to the Museum of Fine Arts and the Isabella Stewart Gardner Museum in addition to the Harvard Museum of Natural History, but I have to confess that dinosaur bones can occasionally beat art as far as I'm concerned.

Provincetown


Such character! Normally I despise crowds, but even though Provincetown was filled absolutely to the max with people, I was totally relaxed. The diversity of the people and the stores that populated the downtown area was so rich and exciting.

Beaches

Yeah... I wouldn't mind spending the rest of my life hanging out there.


Family

Caroline and I stayed with our aunt and uncle, and spent a lot of time with our cousins. Since we live across the country from each other we only get to see each other face to face every few years or so if we're lucky.

So the best part of the trip? Family.

Oh.

But I did see get to see Dropkick Murphys. In BOSTON. That might trump family.

I've been extremely fortunate to have never found myself in a vehicle versus vehicle battle to the death, which is how I tend to think of car accidents. The closest I've ever come was running into a deer going 55 mph. The poor suicidal thing leapt right out in front of me, leaving me literally no time to react. Even if I could have swerved, I wouldn't have. Huge trees on one side and a steady stream of oncoming traffic also going 55 mph makes that decision pretty easy. The deer, a fairly small specimen, crunched in the hood of my car and nearly came through my windshield. My insurance barely covered it.

Once upon a time, before Becca had a Blogspot blog, she had a Livejournal. The year was 2004, which would make Becca 19 (but she turned 20 in September '04). During this period of time Becca was still living with her parents and two sisters. She hadn't yet made the move to her first apartment (and by apartment I mean glorified 350(ish) square foot garden shed in someone's back yard), and in fact didn't even have a driver's license yet.

Becca was having a blast dating a fantastic guy named Ian (whom she has remained friends with), and was working part time as a glass blower's assistant and as an office assistant at the real estate company where she still works - though now, five years later, she has her real estate license and the back of her business card says "Listing/Marketing Coordinator".

Becca posted intermittently in her Livejournal, and used a small JPEG of Tank Girl as her profile picture. Her posts were generally short and used more as a communication device with her friends, since when Becca had a Livejournal all her friends had a Livejournal too.

Perusing Becca's old Livejournal entries were somewhat amusing:

"March 10th, 2004:

I just finished watching the second disc of 'V'. LIZARD BABIES!! HAHA!!! LIZARD BABIES!!!"

Stellar entry. Becca conveyed her thoughts so intelligently, yet left her opinion open to disagreement and healthy debate...

What's next? Ah yes, parts two and three of "The Housesitting Saga".

"March 13th, 2004:

Still housesitting. Still watching bad movies on the Sci-Fi channel. Tonight it was 'Snakehead Terror'. I decided not to watch 'Shark Hunter' which was on after 'Snakehead Terror' because I've already seen it.

Wow. That's sad. "

"March 14th, 2004:

Sci Fi channel movies watched today include 'Return of the Living Dead 3', 'Day of the Dead', 'Route 666', and 'Dagon.' Still bored."

Absolutely RIVETING! Before Becca was posting her painfully amateur movie reviews, she was simply listing off the titles!

"June 28th, 2004:

"Post offices are evil! I've always hated post offices, maybe even been a little afraid of them, and Nils made me go into one! I knew something bad was going to happen because of this, and I was right! We walked into the post office, deposited the mail in the proper receptacle, got back in the car and started it, and the CD player stopped working!!! It won't even eject the CDs that are already in it, so it has effectively eaten my Therion CD! Post offices are EVIL!"

Apparently Becca was once superstitious about.... post offices?

"August 29th, 2004:

So I dreamed last night that we all went to Oregon, and when we got there Sean told us that his shower was possessed by an evil spirit and we couldn't use it. O_O So we decided that we all had to take a shower, so we hung like fifty crosses up in his bathroom. We came back later, and all the crosses were upside down, the shower was still possessed, and we still couldn't use it. XD"

Then Becca actually went to Sean's apartment in Oregon, and was relieved to find that his shower was not, in fact, possessed.

"September 9th, 2004:

Well, I'm being hired as an artist's model for $15 an hour for two weekends this month. The glassblowing studio where I work is hosting a head/shoulders sculpting workshop and one of the people I work with is taking it and asked me if I wanted the modeling job. O_o I've never even thought about doing something like this before, but hey, $15 an hour to walk around and look serious. I can do that. XD "

Becca has a slew of photos that she took of the roomful of clay sculptures that were fashioned in her likeness. It's sort of creepy.

Okay, I'm done talking about myself in the third person.

It was fun re-reading a year's worth of silly journal posts from 2004 (I can't quite make myself call that LJ a blog). It made me a little nostalgic for the days of no bills, staying up until 6AM playing video games, and dating Ian. Things were a lot easier back then, and I had a blast.

2004 was a good year.

Tomorrow I'm going to see if I can dredge up some photos from '04 - the days before I had a digital camera - and scan them!

I just have something quick. Something that's been bugging me since this morning.

WHY have they not invented panty hose in some kind of material that doesn't catch and tear on ABSOLUTELY EVERYTHING???? ERRRGGHH!!!

If I'm wearing a skirt it's impossible to not wear them - it's cold outside, and feels vaguely unprofessional to show up at work with bare legs in the middle of winter. And even though I always do my absolute damndest to try to keep them from tearing, it's inevitable that within two hours of leaving my house they'll be completely destroyed.

I believe that the person who invented panty hose did so as an evil scheme to separate women from their money. And IT'S WORKING.

>_<

I decided this year that I need to start writing in a diary again. I was pretty good about writing when I was fifteen and sixteen, and let me tell you, re-reading the things I wrote back then is freaking hilarious! The angst! The drama! In addition to the hilarity, it really makes me happy that I'm not a teenager any more.

Humor is not the reason I want to keep a diary again, although it probably will be pretty funny to look back in ten years at my twenties ("the angst, the drama!" my thirty-four year old self will giggle). No, the real reason is that if I'm unexpectedly murdered, I want the attractive police detective or FBI agent to have something juicy to search for clues in.

I get such a kick out of reading a book or watching a movie where someone is murdered and the investigator discovers the treasure trove of wicked little secrets - The Diary - in the victim's bedroom. Stories of stalkers, illicit affairs, furious parents... all held within the pages of The Diary, and inevitably leading to the arrest of the murderer.

Now, if I was murdered, the attractive cop or FBI agent wouldn't have a diary to read, thus lowering the chances of my murderer being caught. Clearly this problem needs to be rectified, because we never know when we might find a serial killer waiting for us in our coat closet.

My diary won't be a composition notebook like it was when I was fifteen, nor will it be a cute or pretty book with 'Diary' emblazoned on the cover. No, mine will be a forbidding, thick, leather bound tome that I'll keep hidden under the false bottom of a dresser drawer. The detective who finds it will feel a chill when he touches the cover, not quite able to bring himself to pick it up yet, because a book like that just screams 'scandal'!

Of course, it will be quite a let down when the detective starts reading:

"Jan. 6: Came home for lunch today. I had a peanut butter sandwich and some vegetable beef soup. SOOO GOOD! Kitty has fleas again."

"Jan. 7: I remembered to pick up some Advantage at the vet's office for kitty. Pat's coming over. We're going to play Grand Theft Auto and watch Resident Evil movies! Yay!"

"Jan 8: Forgot to set my alarm last night! I've never gotten ready for work so fast!"

Obviously I'm going to have to introduce some more scandal to my life to make sure my diary isn't a disappointment in the event of my murder. On the plus side, my blog will get a lot more interesting! Don't expect all the details of my new, scandal-filled life, though - I have to leave some secrets for The Diary!

I don't think I'm obsessed.

Do you?

Okay, so maybe that's a question that I don't actually need answered right now. Sleep on it. See how you feel in the morning. Then let me know.

Tragically, it's been over a month since I've been able to get my weekly Supernatural fix. Even though I'm not crazy about the direction the show is taking this season, and in fact spent the last two brand new episodes snarling futilely at Pat about how angry it's making me... I WANT TO WATCH A NEW EPISODE. You might be thinking this is mostly because Jensen Ackles is divinely beautiful, and you wouldn't be entirely wrong. Up until now the show has been amazing, and I've been singing it's praises since I first started watching it. I watched it for its brilliant writing, great acting, and magnetic story. Jensen Ackles was just a bonus. A huge bonus, granted, but just a bonus. Now, though... with the writing slipping so much, it is starting to turn into a 'damn, I really want to watch Jensen Ackles in something new' rather than a 'I can't wait until the next episode! SO EXCITED!'

I think the show starts airing again next week, and I'm clinging desperately to the hope that the writers will haul it out of its slump and make me fall in love with it again.

BUT! Even if the next brand new Supernatural episode doesn't grace our televisions next week, I have something else to look forward to:

Coming out January 16th!

Why would I be looking forward to My Bloody Valentine 3D? Aside from the fact that it's a horror flick in 3D, of course. Who wouldn't want to go see a 3D horror film?

Well, this:

Yes, Jensen Ackles stars in My Bloody Valentine.

Come on. You know you're excited!

I know there's not much substance to this post. But seriously, with two whole photos of Ackles, do we really need substance?

I really enjoy doing things with thread and yarn. I sometimes cross stitch, but not very often. I'm working on a pattern so epic that I really need to be able to sit down and work on it for a couple of hours to make dragging out all my materials worth the effort. But yarn... ahh, quick and easy, instant satisfaction.

I know how to crochet, or at least I know how to crochet one thing. It's called a granny square. When I crochet a granny square, I have a process. I assemble a huge amount of yarn of all different colors, work on it until it's big enough to cover a queen sized bed, and call it an "ugly blanket". TaDA! Finished!

My mom had been bugging me about learning to knit off and on for a long time, and I had been resisting. 'I'm not even remotely interested,' I told her. Two straight sticks that looked like I should only pick them up to eat Chinese food seemed a bit overwhelming compared to my single crochet hook. I couldn't fathom how knitting could possibly work. Then one random day I suddenly decided for no reason whatsoever that I needed to learn how to knit. So I went over to my mom's house, and she taught me the basics. A couple days later I had finished my first dishcloth (apparently I have perfect tension, yay!), and mom taught me a few more stitches.

There are just so many things one can knit! Sweaters, hats, gloves, and scarves, of course - but did you know there are also patterns out there for things like knitted penis (complete with balls) shaped chap stick holders?

I'm inspired to continue to learn about knitting. I never had any ambitions with crochet, I was more than happy with the one thing I knew how to do and had no interest in learning anything else. But with knitting I'm excited about learning more and being able to do more and more advanced things. You know, like penis shaped chap stick holders!

While I was getting ready for work today (and by that I mean that I was rooting through my clean laundry hamper trying desperately to find clean clothes that matched) I was thinking to myself, gee, self, you should really think of something to write about. Fortunately, my sweet, loving, adorable little kitty decided to help out.

"You need something to write about?" her wicked little eyes seemed to say. "Here, I'll give you something to write about!" She launched herself at my defenseless hand and gashed my forefinger and thumb with her vicious claws, then ran off, chuckling to herself.

I was struck speechless as I watched the wounds instantly start gushing blood, mostly because I couldn't figure out which profanity to utter in my cat's general direction.

This was what it felt like attacked me:

But this is what actually attacked me:

I'm beginning to see a striking similarity.

In other news, I was tagged by Heather Rose over at Mad Madam Mim's Mimsy (absolutely LOVE that blog title) to list seven quirky things about me. And even though I'm having trouble thinking about anything other than the fact that my finger and thumb look like they got trapped in a running garbage disposal, I'm going to give it a shot!

1. In my computer room, I have a big piece of black posterboard tacked above my desk. On it are a slew of band stickers from a bunch of concerts I attended several years ago, because at one point I thought it would be neat to have a collage of band stickers. On black posterboard. >_<>

2. Speaking of Into Eternity, I was at one point determined to have a one night stand with bassist Troy Bleich.* And actually may still be determined to have a one night stand with Troy Bleich.

3. There was a time when I absolutely hated olives. Any kind of olives. But I just thought they were so neat that I desperately wanted to like them. So every time they were available I would force myself to have one or two, and now actually enjoy limited amounts of black olives on pizza and sub sandwiches, and almond stuffed green olives. Behold my awesome willpower!

4. I have never had a cavity. (knock on wood!)

5. I hate wasting soda, but I can rarely drink a whole can. So, to remedy this problem, I'll put the partially finished soda in my fridge with the full intention of finishing it later. Of course I never do, so if you ever open my fridge you're likely to find at least two or three forgotten half empty soda cans forlornly awaiting being emptied and tossed in the recycling.

6. I don't mind cleaning my bathroom, but hate cleaning my kitchen. I usually have a clean sink and toilet, and a counterful of dirty dishes.

7. My cat is psychotic and bent on destroying my hands, but I love her to death anyway. ^_^

The rules were to tag seven people, but I'm tagging anyone who wants to share their quirkiness with the internet! But since I don't completely disregard authority, here are the original rules:

• Link to your original tagger(s).


• Share seven facts about yourself in the post-some random, some weird.


• Tag seven people at the end of your post by leaving their names and the links to their blogs.


• Let them know they've been tagged by leaving a comment on their blogs/twitter.


• List these rules.

*I got closer to achieving this goal than I would ever have thought possible, by which I mean I actually hung out and had a beer with Troy after a few of his shows, and he remembered who I was. Then I stopped going to concerts because I was broke. Pretty sure he wouldn't remember me now. *sigh*