Grocery Shopping

Went grocery shopping with Jen yesterday. Like so many chores, buying groceries is always better when done with a friend. However, it seems that everytime I go to the store, I manage to grab the one cart that has a wheel problem. At first, it's barely noticible. Then, as you start packing more and more items into the cart, it becomes more and more unmanagable. Now, I know I have a flair for the dramatic, but I'm being very literal here when I say that I had to wrestle with that cart like it was a two-year-old kid. In other words, everywhere I wanted to go, the cart wouldn't go, and instead would veer off on it's own, usually bumping into people on the way. It's bad enough using all you weight to steer a cart away from an 80-year-old lady in an almost hopeless attempt to avoid knocking her over. It's worse doing this in front of an audience. But it's even more worse when a memeber of this audience is your good friend who was trying to nice by suggesting you go shopping together.

More Zombie Fun!

I promise I'll get off this kick, but I couldn't resist. In the comments of Last Blood I found a Zombie Simulator that shows how quickly a zombie infection could spread through a population.

Zombies

Of all the horror creatures out there, I think the creepiest are zombies. It's not really the zombies themselves that are so horrifying, but what they represent. In every zombie movie I've seen, there's always a terrible sense of hopelessness. Will we survive the night or be eaten and turned into the very things we're fighting? And even if we survive, will life in a zombie-infested world be worth living?

Plus, I have a sneaking suspicion that zombie movies are really just an excuse for us to watch people killing other people. It's okay that I blew this guy's head off, he was a zombie!

And yet, I can't stay away from the morbid genre. So, that being said, here's some fun zombie stuff I've found.

The Last Stand

For your reading delight, an online comic I've been following entitled Last Blood.

And a clip from Sean of the Dead, which, if you haven't seen, you should. (Caution - There are some Swears in this Scene).

Being Upwardly Mobile and All That ...

Megan Basham has an interesting article about feminists complaining that most women are choosing or preferring being stay-at-home moms over advancing in their careers, and because of this, are somehow being taken advantage of and should still receive wages equivalent to those of men who work full-time and overtime. Which is silly, obviously. But it reminded me again of how feminists have long struck me as a minority who claim to represent a majority, yet has no real idea what that majority actually wants (kind of like the current Republican party leadership). However, while feminists promote girls learning math and science, most women continue to seek degrees in the "soft sciences," like biology, or English, or medieval French art, or whatever. It's not because girls are not capable of learning or enjoying math, some certainly do, but I think there is evidence that most girls do not enjoy them. In the same way, while there are certainly women who do not want, or even like all that much, children, and are willing to dedicate their lives to shaping a powerful career, most women genuinely want to stay home, make babies, and then make cookies for those babies to eat. I know that's what I want to do.

This thing is, our current feminist culture makes me feel guilty for not wanting a career. I really don't enjoy being in the workplace. It's not that I'm lazy, or unintelligent, or "brainwashed by a paternalist, masochistic society/religion." It's just not where my interests and passions lie. Whenever I picture my future, there are babies and pies and reading and writing and providing a home for my husband. I got my degree because it's alway good to have a back-up plan, but I think my primary plan is a pretty good one. So why isn't it good enough for the so-called "women's movement"?

A Note Worthy Event

I got a front row parking spot at Wal-Mart. Nuff' said.

Camping Fun

Taylor had his first weekend off in about a month, so he chose to celebrate by taking us camping. Now, people have many different ideas of what constitutes "camping." For some, camping is taking an RV to a outdoorish area and basically enjoying all the amenities of home in the woods. For others, camping is driving up to a designated area and pitching a tent about twenty feet from your car. And for Taylor, camping is hiking for twelve hours into the middle of nowhere and then setting up camp, living off the fruits of the land. That is not my idea of camping. Fortunately for whimpy me, we could only find the "pitch your tent twenty feet from you car" kind of camping.

Now, I don't want to give the wrong impression. I was really looking forward to camping, just not the hiking in the wilderness part. Things started off really well. We got our camp site set up, a fire going, and then started carving our sticks for roasting hot dogs. My carving was going well, until I came across a stubborn knot in the wood. I slid the knife toward me (a major no no, I know). The knife bounced off the knot and right into my knuckle. I've never bled so much in my life before. I turned to Taylor and said "Um, Taylor, I need some help." Taylor was rather concerned because at this point my entire hand was covered in blood.

"Put pressure on it!"
"I am! But my hand is really gross, can't I wash it off?"
"No, hold your finger, now!"
We weren't able to get a picture of the event, as we were performing first aid, so here is a dramatic re-enactment.

We got the finger bandaged up, and everything went smoothly from there. Until I added some more logs to the fire. I felt a burn on my finger, and took my hand out from the fire pit. The pain, however, continue. It took me a couple seconds to realize my bandage was on fire. I threw the bandage off, and it flew like a flaming arrow into a pile of pine needles. After stomping out the pine needle fire, I tended my wounded finger with ice. It was rather pathetic.

That was the most dramatic thing that occurred. The rest of the trip went rather well. We definately plan on doing it again. Except for the severing my finger part.

The Wii is Gone Again

Divination is Easy!

It's nice to know that you, even you(!), can master reading tea leaves with a little practice. It seems odd to me that something that supposed to be a powerful as predicting someone's future can be gained from mere intuition and practice. It's seems cheap, or fraudulent, for some reason.

Yet this stuff holds a strange facination for me, one that I try not to indulge. If I weren't a Christian, I suspect I would be the wackiest neo-pagan you've ever met.

The Dove

I was driving from an appointment in Quincy back to Wollaston, where I work. As I was going along Newport Ave. I saw a row of cars in the lane to my right just stopped. I was trying to figure out what they were doing with suddenly a beautiful, white dove flew from the right lane. The cars were obviously trying to avoid it. And then I hit it. Not on purpose! The stupid thing flew (in vain) right in front of my car. I didn't have time to stop. It's probably a good thing too, because if I had tried to stop, or serve, I would have caused an accident. Bird of peace or no, I think it was the one that had to be sacrificed. So the bird crashed into my car with a loud BUMP! and I had a fleeting hope that it might be OK until I saw it fluttered lifelessly down to the left hand lane. It was not going to be performing magic tricks ever again.

I was torn between a conflict of emotion. On one hand, I was sad that I killed something so frail and beautiful, and on the other, I really thought the whole thing was kinda funny. In the end, the humor won out. I know, I know, I'm a bad person. But you know you think it's funny too.

"Why Meghan, why?"

My Grandma and Grandpa Are the Best!

I just got off the phone with my step-father's mother and step-father (my family tree is a little complicated). I only mention the "step" part for clarity, not because it's a terribly important distinction. But then again, it is kind of important, because even though we're not related by blood, I can't imagine having a more caring set of grandparents. My papa (step-dad) married my mom when I was about five-years-old. It was a difficult transition, but I remember how totally my Grandma Carla and Grandpa Juergen embraced my brother and me as their own, in spite of the many "real" grandchildren they already had.

One of my most treasured pieces of jewelry is a red stone ring my Grandma Carla gave me. She said it belonged to her mother, and she wanted me to have it.

I hesitated accepting it. "Are you sure you want to give it to me? Wouldn't you rather give it to Sarah or one of your real granddaughters?"

She looked me square in the eye and said "You are as real to me as any of my other grandchildren. I want you to have it."

It bring tears to my eyes even as I type this. I dealt with a lot of issues in my childhood, but having such a great family, formed by love rather than genetics, has helped me have a great life. Thank you, Grandma and Grandpa!

Sunday Treat

PG version of 300. Enjoy!

Bill and Carol's Wedding

Taylor and I went to my co-workers' wedding today. I have one complete sentence for you: Open bar and open menu. Good times were had by all.

Friday the 13th!

I feel obliged to mention that today is Friday the 13th and all the implications thereof, but I just don't have anything new or exciting to add. So I'll just post of picture of my black cat.
Oooo! Making ya nervous, aren't I?

Fenway Park

Yesterday Taylor took me to my first Red Sox game. He was more excited about it than I was, especially after I saw the forecast was 100 percent chance of rain and discomfort. But we bucked up and took the hour-long T ride to Fenway anyway, because we felt there was a slight chance a miracle could happen and that ball players would leave the Jacuzzis in their lockers and play a nice game in the rain. After all, we dedicated fans were there, waiting for them! Also waiting were the dedicated vendors, who, rain or shine, are willing to overcharge you for hot dogs, beer, and candy. Giving in the atmosphere of the occasion, Taylor and I bought our Fenway Franks, a pretzel, and a big ol' bag cotton candy and waited in our cold, wet seats for the team to come out.

As you probably guessed, the team did not come out, but they waited an hour before informing us of the inevitable rain delay. I suspect delayed long enough to make sure fans spent as much as they were going to on food.

Even though we got wet and cold, we still had a good time. The make-up game is set for May 3. You'll see us there, buying more Franks, pretzels, and cotton candy. After all, it's for our team.

The Great Diet Weigh-Down

My boss Bob and I are in a little competition to see who can loss 10 percent of their body weight by the 4th of July. So far, I've lost three out of 16, he's lost six out of 23. $100.00 is up for grabs for the biggest loser! And for once, I want it to be me!

This is Why I Don't Like Going to the Doctor

because they always tell you something you don't want to hear! I went in for a routine checkup, and they did some blood work. I just got the results back yesterday. I have high cholesterol! My total is 273 (the chart says abnormal). My good cholesterol is at 62, which is good, but my bad is at 195, which is very high. I feel so depressed. I'm too young to be having this sort of problem! High cholesterol is a problem my parents have, not me! Of course, the worst part is not the diagnoses, but the remedy. Basically, no good tasting food ever again.

They sent me a food chart to help my sort my food.
Good Food: Everything you don't like . Bad Food: Everything you do like. Simple, huh?

It doesn't help that aspartame gives me headaches, which means many of the so-called "fat-free" stuff is off limits too. Taylor's been trying to cheer me up by telling me how much healthier we'll be by "eating like adults" now. But I have to wonder, is giving up everything I love really worth my health? If I die of a heart attack eating a Boston Creme Doughnut, wouldn't it be worth it?

Okay, maybe not.

There's no fighting it anymore. I'm really going to have to make some changes, and now that I know I could have real health issues, it really become more real to me. Bummer. Now it's time for me to say my goodbyes.

Me:"Well, Butter, we had some good times together, but we're going to have to break it off."
Butter: "But why?"
Me: "You're just not good for me. I have to make some changes."
Butter: "You'll never have anything as good as me! Margarine can't satisfy you like I can!"
Me: "Why do you have to make this harder than it already is?"
Butter: ".... Can we still be friends?"
Me: "Maybe we can get together sometime next week. For breakfast. I'll bring Pancakes."

Getting High?

I hate to be cavalier about such a serious topic such as drug use, but as I'm currently under the influence of over-the-counter cold medication, so I don't really care. Unfortunately for me, the "influence" hasn't been a very postive one, leaving me questioning how people get hooked on medication in the first place.

Take codiene for instance. I apparently have an allergy to codiene. I discovered this after getting my wisdom teeth pulled out and recieving hydracodiene as a pain reliver. I suppose you could say that my constant vomiting took my mind off the pain in my gums, but it wasn't a pleasant experience overall. Yet, hundreds of people sneak into pharmacies trying to con poor techs (as I once was) into giving them these pills so they can get "high." What highs are they experiencing exactly? Does nausea result in an endorphine rush that I wasn't aware of? And why doesn't my body release these endorphines?

The other one I don't get pseudoephedrine, which as you know if often used to make meth or speed ( I know this from having lived White County "Meth Capital of the World," Arkansas, not from experience, thank you). When I take my single pill to relieve allergies, I don't experience anything resembling a high, unless you count the vauge, out of body experience I have all day. But feeling sluggish and slow and yet being able to type over 500 words-per-minute is still not my idea of a good time. Right now, I'd much rather be sleeping, or at worst, watching daytime television, but instead I'm stuck at work trying to focus on what clients are saying over the phone.

Client: "Hello, I'm looking for a one bedroom apartment."
Me: "You want a what?"
Client: "A one bedroom apartment."
Me: "Oh, an apartment. And how many bedrooms do you need?"

In between phone calls and posting listings on craigslist (which on average, takes about 30 minutes to load pictures) I'm getting out my nervous energy by typing out this post as fast as I can.

And people take these drugs for fun? I just don't get it. But I guess that's a good thing. I'd hate to become a cold medicine junkie.

Dishonesty at Work

Real estate agents have a reputation for being dishonest, and to be honest, it's true. Most of the people I work with are more than happy to cheat on their taxes, make promises they can't necessarily keep, and flat-out lie when convenient. My co-workers confidently assure me that I too will exhibit these unsavory traits soon enough, to which I reply "No way!"

It's difficult, however. They say you become like the company you keep. So how do I live as a light for Christ when the people I'm trying to influence for good are also trying to influence me for ill? I'm pretty open about my religious beliefs, but most my co-workers are either also "religious" or openly secular and "tolerant," so they don't care about what I believe.

What I hope will happen is that I will become like a Joseph to Potiphar. I hope that my efforts to do what I believe God expects of me, even if they don't appear financially advantageous, will result in successful business year. Maybe that will show the people I work with that God provides for his children, and that what seems foolish to man is actually the key a full life.

The Spencers are Here!

So, our friends the Spencers are here visiting. They are planning on moving to Quincy at the end of May, so right now I'm showing them apartment that won't be around by the time they move. But at least now they know their options.