brainxplosion

I decided to join Self-Portrait Tuesday. Every Tuesday (or close to that), there'll be a picture of me with a short explanation (perhaps). This should be fun... scroll down for the first one!

The theme for February is "all of me". So...
...here's a picture of me being eaten up by the internet. It pulls me in so much that everything else in the house goes undone all day, only to be hastily fudged together at the last minute (e.g. dinner "Wanna eat out?", cleaning "I'll get to it tomorrow" etc.).
So there you have it.

I know it's been a while, but in this (early) post, you can read what I think about Oprah.
Once you read through that, you'll understand why I love this Slate article so much. And James Frey? I don't really care, but the world is full of liars - and he's a good one. Very skilled. Now if only he hadn't blown his cover, he could have had a brilliant career in politics.

This evil little black sock hid in the washer when the time came for his load (and his partner) to be transfered to the dryer. He then flirted with a load of underwear and towels. The towels were apparently uninterested, but the underwear cozied up with this little deserter. Unfortunately, the naive panties noticed too late what incredible danger they were in, and must now suffer the consequences. Their reputations - and fabrics - are forever stained.
The sock has been degraded to least favorite and will only fulfill his sock-destiny (be worn on feet) in cases of clothing emergencies.

So... you think you're all that, huh?!!

Jerk with the weird fire-engine red hair spikes,
I'd like to know how what you did to the Jesus-looking kid in Spanish class was funny. Or, as you put it, something that would "throw off la profesora." I know that your frontal lobe or some such part isn't fully developed yet and that as a result of that, you can't fully understand the consequences of your actions, but this? Was just too low. You know that la profesora is anal about cell phones ringing in class, and you knew that the Jesus-kid would get into trouble when you called his phone in the middle of class.
I deeply regret that I didn't say anything to you about that (but remember that look I gave you - that was disapproval that scares the living daylights out of elementary school kids). Be warned that if you ever do something like that again, I will not sit there silently.
Sincerely,
tu companera de clase

My job search is verrrrry frustrating these days. I'm grumpy. I feel like I will never work. Untrue, but very convincing nonetheless.
I started a Spanish class at a local community college. You need to know two facts about this college:
1. Highly esteemed institution of higher learning (for reals).
2. Rated by playboy or some such publication to have the hottest girls.
After only two sessions, I already have the rep that la profesora can call on me for hard questions. I don't know if I should likelikelike this or hatehatehate this. I also get all my romance languages messed up in my head when I learn Spanish. So don't ask me what something Spanish means in English (I could tell you in German, and don't ask me what that weird word in that (otherwise) Spanish sentence meant. That was French, you silly thing! I hope I get a handle on this.

I started a new blog to post pictures. Go there now and meet Samson, the furry man in my sister's life!

Also: Don't miss a story in which I triumph over a revolting chicken (scroll down).

I decided to try something new as far as cooking is concerned. Really, I was reading Real Simple magazine, and saw the recipe for a "simple roast chicken."
Here is what happened:


The chicken and the pan-thingy I’d never used before (came with the oven).


nekkid chicken


Not thrilled to find out I had to touch the nekkid chicken to “rinse inside and out and pat dry” (actually became a vegetarian right when I unwrapped the poor dead chicken).


The tools I used to touch the chicken.
First I made myself stop dry-heaving, then I …

…and then I touched it.


I spice-sprinkled it since spice-rubbing it was out of the question.


Off it went into the oven.


Hot chick, eh?!!


The perhaps unfortunate end to this story was the greedy devouring of above mentioned chicken by the new vegetarian.

This is the time of year when I am suddenly filled with an urge for change. What better than to change the setup of our screwed-up office/guestroom/TV-watching-room? I prepared by measuring things and cutting paper models to scale to decide on where things could go. The whole "it looks like it'll totally fit so let's just move it" thing is SO last year!*
There are two IKEA bookshelves in the room. They came with a plywood back that I didn't put on initially. I decided that it was now or never - those shelves have some leaning problems, and I really don't want to be put into a coma by a heavy, leatherbound Shakespeare collection falling on me.**
So I removed all the books from one of the shelves, pulled it out into the living room, and moved the coffee table so the shelf could lie on the rug, so that my nailing the back onto that thing wouldn't scuff the floor.*
I fetched the plywood from the garage and found the little plastic bag of nails it came with. Then there was a second trip to the garage to fetch the hammer.
The plastic bag was very elastic, and when I ripped it open, nails exploded all over the living room. After I finished laughing my head off, I picked up the ones I could find and started nailing the backing onto the shelf, which is when I noticed that the hammer was still a little dirty with tar from D. fixing a leaky garage roof a while back. I mumbled something about cleaning the blood off your sword and continued my hammering. Suddenly, I noticed something sticky on the side of my arm. Sticky and black! TAR!
So I took a little break from hammering, in which I washed off my arm and D. (while trying not to laugh about my righteous indignation) washed off the hammer, which had tar on the (black) handle.
Then I hit my index finger with the hammer.

Other than that, it went really well.
And when I nailed the second shelf, I used scissors to cut open the bag of nails.*

The rearranging of the room is now "almost" done. All the furniture is moved, but all the books, papers, binders, office supplies and random things we own are strewn about the room in true chaotic Sonja fashion.
I did hook up my computer, and we can sit on the couch and watch TV.
What's not to like?

Also: My friend said I was brilliant (on a completely unrelated topic). SO what's one messy room when you personally are brilliant?!!

* See, even I learn stuff sometimes!
**Notice how I prove my intelligence and sophistication by casually mentioning my ownership of a heavy, leatherbound Shakespeare collection (courtesy of my uncle).

New Year's Resolutions are a mixed bag. I've always had them, but never made them known for fear of failing publicly. I've never believed that I'd be capable of sticking to my resolutions. This year, I decided to give myself more credit. Here's my goal for the new year, internet:
In 2006, I want to live whole-heartedly.
I've noticed that I am stuck in an unhealthy and unfullfilling pattern of not putting my heart into the things I do, however trivial they might be. I want to stop my mind from being busy with things other than the here and now.
Words fail me, but I hope you understand what I'm trying to say.

What did you resolve to/not to do this year?