i'm lovin' having you arouuuund

I am nothing if not resourceful. Alright, so maybe that isn't the word I would fill that blank with at one of those mingling games. And yes, this type of stuff does come up in life beyond camp – the other week I was at a barbeque where someone asked what the one thing you would want someone to know about you is. (Yes, the barbeques I attend are more sophisticated than yours.)

One fellow said the one thing he'd want others to know about him is that he is fun to have at parties. Most people shirked the question (with humor and – "Oh what's that on the ceiling?!!" diversions. "A diversion!" (Oh Orlando.)) Why would they avoid? (aside from awkward social implications)

1) It's a difficult question and they didn't know the answer. (Though easier than trying to fit yourself into one adjective. Think about the nuances of language: "I am nothing, if not -----" "The one thing I would want someone to know about me is ------" "If I were summed up in one adjective, it would be-----" Personally, I would probably end up with different answers for all of those. Man I love English. Seriously. )

2) It's a standard. If you declare yourself as something, an instant expectation is attached. Is he/she actually fun to have at parties? It's your reputation (self deluded? astute?), and it's your word (liar?).

3) The truth might be scary.

Yeah, okay, I just wanted to fill out three points. I know this isn't a Powerpoint presentation, but I still desire balance.

Here's my small talk question of the blog: If you know what the one thing you want people to know about you is, are your actions at all aligned with that message? Because you are constantly sending messages out. I promise. I've been reading them. Cackle cackle cackle. Cake. Chocolate. mmm

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Laziness is the mother of invention. I really hope someone quotes me on that one day. (When I'm famous and have taken a PC comb to this blog before I attach my real name to it).

My original sentence possibly should have read "I am nothing if not easily distracted," because I meant to discuss my newfound resourcefulness. Ah well, this section shall do the job nicely.

Basically, my laziness, genius, and resourcefulness all converged tonight and saved me a 20 minute walk to Corner Bakery for internet. (In my day, I walked 20 minutes to get internet.) Though Dlink had fled our household, there was still another unsecured network – 2WIRE267 – which wavered between zero and two bars depending on location.

And now my genius: the bars were strongest in Becky's room (but they still wouldn't support any browser), so I decided to walk around the room to figure out where it was coming from. I finally lifted the shutters and shoved my computer against the window screen, where, BAM, it hovered/hovers between two and four bars.

Yes, it's uncomfortable, hunching under the shutters and straining to balance the computer on the tiny sill, but it's a good feeling. I can now instantly access recipes, directions, and tabs. And I'm less bitter about my Peace Corpsing brother (hmm that got strange fast) telling me that, no he doesn't have AC/heating/any American products, but of course he has internet because "everyone has internet. it's everywhere." Not true. But now kind of true.

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Anyways, the whole shoving my piece of technology against a screen has, understandably, brought back unwelcome memories of my sophomore year in Hope dorm. T-Mobile didn't get service in Hope, unless you stuck your phone (and head) against the immovable screen. This meant many uncomfortable face-pressed-to-screen conversations, and a whole lot of walking around campus glued to my phone. (Shout out to Llama. ("What are you doing?" "Walking..."))

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When trademarks become fully integrated into common speech, the company loses their exclusive right to the brand name. Because Kleenex was constantly used by everyone to mean all tissues instead of the Kleenex brand, Kleenex lost rights, and all tissues can now call themselves Kleenex.

That's why Google doesn't want people to keep verbing google as a synonym for "searched online."

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In other news, I am possibly confirming any suspicions of my unAmericanness by being the only American to not celebrate the 4th of July this year. My roommates have all gone to their non-orphaning families for the weekend, and I remain.

How do I justify this? I know someone who's been hit in the stomach by a wayward firecracker. They're dangerous. Also, someone literally just set some off in my complex, so I got my fireworks fill. And I'm pretty sure our family set some off during a dry spell in Texas and started a fire. (Help, Auntie B?)

If firecrackers aren't the true meaning of the 4th, I don't know what is. Maybe I'll go memorize that song. But that's how they weeded out German spies in WWII – they made all suspicious men sing the National Anthem and whoever knew all the verses were the spies, because they had been over trained. (And most Americans barely know the first verse.)

Okay, the spy story isn't entirely accurate. But it is mentioned on Wikipedia.

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The plus side to my non-festivitiesness is that I'm king of the apartment until Monday, which has allowed me to engage in all sorts of activities that are normally forbidden to me via social pressure, etc.

These activities include:

1) Sitting on Becky's bed, with my computer bulging against her screen.
2) Eating a meal consisting of only carbs. (okay, mostly.)
3) Watching High School Musical
4) Not showering (notice the picture at the top is "artsy". tends to distract from my unshowered/unmakeupedness. That should be a life lesson right there.)
5) piercing my own eyebrow (again, see photo)

and...a couple of my roommates stumble onto this now and then, so I'll leave the rest up to imagination.

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Today's Life Lesson: Extroverts should live alone. People are so so so so so distracting. And they always, always, seem more important than the task at hand. (It's so easy to justify – relationships last forever, blah blah). Last week, my pastor Eric was talking about the balance between task and relationship, which isn't a pair of words I would have related.

I read part of a chapter of a book called "Boundaries" last week wherein this woman was constantly being emotionally dumped on by family and friends. I didn't actually get to the end of the chapter and how she solved her problems, but it was pretty clear that she wasn't actually helping these people by giving them everything they demanded. It seems like it can be really easy (for Christians...and people pleasers) to think that the right thing is putting others before yourself and therefore you should do whatever someone asks of you. But putting someone before yourself might be telling them no.

It's a bit like the U.S. lending money to other countries. A little bit initially might help them get on their feet and start creating their own income (and will help the U.S. in trade, power, etc.). But, critics argue, constantly shoveling money into 3rd world countries creates a dependency, destroys initiative, and ultimately harms rather than aids the American economy. That's why I think the Heiffer International organization sounds awesome.

I'd like to take this space to say that none of my roommates dump on me like that – for which I am eternally grateful. Buuuut they do distract me. Just by existing. They're like these giant dolls that have souls and minds and will respond to stimulus and if I talk to them they might respond in a way that I had no way of predicting, but they will probably respond in some sort of variation of a pattern that I am slowly building of them, and how can I let them just sit there when I can create a more intricate and confusing and wonderful pattern and then integrate it into my world pattern and make a giant tapestry.

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So yes, I'm ready to live alone and literally compartmentalize my life. Waffles, not spaghetti.

But Siobhan, what about an eventual marriage and contribution to society through children and a model of a happy family unit?

No problem. The man can live in the barn. Boarding school for the kids. In Switzerland. With all my relationships at a safe distance, I'll only have contact during special occasions/visits, where everyone will be so excited to see each other they'll forget to be petulant and lazy and obnoxious. Also, at a safe distance I can nicely idealize my husband (think men at war) which should make us both happy. The key is maintaining a plausible facade and a respectable distance. Because really, things only start going downhill with constant togetherness – someone says something, gives a look, leaves a hair in your toothbrush, runs over your foot, tells you they wish you were more like Jennifer Garner, etc.

(Upon further reflection, nobody has ever intimated that I contribute a happy family model to society. This is very upsetting.)


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I'd also like to take this moment to say that I do not quantify my friendships with numbers. I organize them by location and eye color.

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Quote of the Day:

Chad: Look, you're a hoops dude. Not a musical singer person. Have you ever seen Michael Crawford on a cereal box?
Troy Bolton: Who's Michael Crawford?
Chad: Exactly my point. He was the "Phantom of the Opera" on Broadway. Now my mom, she's seen that musical 27 times and she put Michael Crawford's picture in our refrigerator. Not on it. IN it. So my point is, if you play basketball, you'll end up on the cereal box. If you sing in musicals, you'll end up in my mom's refrigerator.
Troy Bolton: Why would she put his picture in your refrigerator?
Chad: I don't know, one of her crazy diet ideas. Look, I don't attempt to understand the female mind, Troy.


Facebook Find:
A friend's status: I think I got accidentally scratched by a tranny on the dance floor last night. Success.


I like this one:



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I was trying to paste a link to my blog, but accidentally pasted a wikipedia link and then I thought: Wouldn't it be cool if Wikipedia was my blog???

I mean, history teachers frown on it as a source anyways...donc...

Just a thought.