Parallel Parking, Etiquette, Etc.

1. Parallel Parking
I have decided that the part of my brain that would have Abilified me to parallel park did not develop properly. I never did pass the parallel parking section of Drivers' Ed. Mr. McKeen got annoyed with my ineptitude and passed me out of pity and frustration. I simply can't do it. Occasionally I will try, when there is plenty of room and no one is around, but I only ever meet with failure. Failure and other people's bumpers. (Bumpers are for bumping, right?) Today's attempt put my truck up on the curb by at least 6". Oops. But, I am nothing if not stubborn and perhaps eventually I will prevail.

2. Etiquette
a)Tipping
I got "Carside To Go" from Applebee's tonight. (I had a gift certificate to use.) Am I supposed to tip? I did not tip, and I got a dirty look from the server woman. It's not like she had to wait on me to order or refilled any drinks or anything. Am I in the wrong here?
b)Thank you note
Yesterday I shadowed at the Haskell Health Center for half a day. Everyone was very kind, I really liked it, and I learned a lot about pharmacy in the Indian Health Service. I am considering working for them, although I'm not so sure I could deal with the uniform. Anyway, my question is: Do I send a thank you card? or would that be weird or extreme?

3. Etc.
I found The Chronicles of Narnia in paperback at Half Price Books for $2.48/ea.
$2.48 X 7 books = 1 SUPER sweet deal.

The Mysterious Production of Eggs

Andrew Bird - The Mysterious Production of Eggs

This has got to be one of the best album titles ever. It is appropriate for a guy named Andrew Bird. Also good is the music on this album. I really like it, in a way similar to the way I like Rufus Wainwright. A cleaning-your-house-on-a-Saturday kind of way. The lyrics are engaging, and the arrangements are fresh. This is one of my favorite newly discovered albums.

I must conclude with a shout out to Tom for introducing me to this masterpiece. Word to your motha!

Rude Awakening

Very early this morning, I was ripped from a REM cycle by the sound of my doorbell. I awakened in a state of utter confusion. It was completey dark. After putting on my robe, I peered out the tiny peephole into the hall. I saw what appeared to be at the time, a football player. What can I say, I was barely awake and not wearing my glasses. Then, I deliberated over what to do. I figured that whoever was outside my door was for some reason at the wrong apartment. But there was part of me that expected terrible news. With my heart pounding and my hands shaking, I cracked open my door. The man, NOT dressed as a football player, introduced himself as Officer NAME (I don't remember his name), from the police department. He was not in uniform. I stepped out into the hall. The light was blinding. He apologized for waking me, and proceeded to ask me some questions. "Have you been out tonight?" I told him that I had not, that I had just been sleeping. I'm sure it was painfully obvious. "Do you know anyone from TOWN (I think it best to edit out these details)?" I do not know anyone from there, but I do know a couple of people who went to junior college there. I told him their names. "Do you know anyone named NAME?" No, I told him I do not. The officer apologized again for disturbing me, and left. I then locked both of the locks on my door, and looked out the window. In the parking lot was a police car. There were three or four officers in and around the car. It looked as though they had someone handcuffed in the back seat, but I can't be sure. I saw a couple more policemen on the sidewalk going into other buildings. Before lying down again, I looked at the clock. It was barely 5 am. The whole thing was so surreal that when I woke up again, I wondered if it had all been a dream.

Rediscovering Mucha

This afternoon I have been surfing the net looking at prints and paintings by Alphonse Mucha. He is my "favorite" artist. His paintings have a certain aesthetic that appeals to me. I say "favorite" because my art opinions are uninformed. I have only a rudimentary understanding of art history. Maybe if I studied art more, I would come across another favorite artist. To be precise, Mucha is my favorite Art Nouveau artist of any nationality. (He is Czech.) Caravaggio is one of my favorite Italian Baroque artists. Yes, that is fair.

I took an Art & Architecture class at Charles University during my semester in Prague. We took field trips almost every day, one of which was to the Mucha Museum. This was a wonderful class. We would just be walking down the street and our instructor would point to a building and describe some of it's features. "Rococco. Neo-classical. Art Deco,"we responded. She took us to visit Romanesque cellars, Gothic churches, and of course the castle. Prague is a great city for learning about art and architecture. It has historically been an important city in the region and survived wars and communism with much less damage than its neighbors.

I think someday I'll decorate a bathroom or maybe a sunporch in Art Nouveau style. Someday...

Strange Errand

This morning at about 11 am, I was asked to run an unusual errand. The pharmacy stocks bourbon, and the supplies were running critically low. I was asked to run to the liquor store and purchase a fifth of Jim Beam. It just feels wrong to buy whiskey with petty cash. "Why does the pharmacy stock bourbon?" you might reasonably ask. I have been hard pressed to find a good answer to this logical question. The best explanation I've heard is that some elderly patients ask their doctor for a shot of whiskey to help them sleep. The hospital is happy to oblige. Oh yeah, the hospital I work at is in Wyandotte county (*what what!*) and the liquor store I went to (in the morning, wearing scrubs) is called "Little Joe's Gun, Pawn, and Liquor." Wow.

The End of an Era

The time has come for me to sell my car. It is sad, but I feel it is necessary. If anyone needs or knows someone who needs an inexpensive yet reliable car, please let me know. My car is a silver Oldsmobile Cutlass Supreme SL 4 door automatic with power windows, seats, tilt, A/C, and a Pioneer CD player. It has 139 000 miles. It is very mechanically sound with new brakes and the tires are in good condition. I'm asking $1200 for it. To sell it will be to break my heart, but to pay my rent. I haven't been driving it anyway.

Woot!

If hamburger smells like a pack of wet dogs, does that mean that I shouldn't eat it?

Weird Dream

One of my summer goals this year is to read. Historically I have hated to read, but that is changing. Right now I'm reading the Chronicles of Narnia by C.S. Lewis. The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe is the most famous of the books, and the only one I had heard of previously. So far, I love them. Perhaps I will write more about the Chronicles after I finish them all.

There are a lot of talking animals in Narnia. It's really getting into my head. I typically have strange dreams, but last night was exceptionally bizarre. It involved my dad in an evil role and my weiner dog could talk. I don't remember the beginning of the dream, if there even was one. But I remember part of it vividly and in great detail. For some reason, my dad was torturing my dog and trying to get information out of him. Jake knew something and Dad wasn't going to let it go. I watched the scene through some sort of hole in the wall. It was dimly lit, like a dungeon. Jake was wearing armor and he was on a leash. My "evil" dad had him tied up. Whenever Jake spoke, he had a British accent and was very prideful. His responses angered my dad, and Dad fed Jake only ranch dressing as punishment. It was gross.

And Now for Something Completely Different...

Optimism.

Yesterday after work I drove to the Merriest of Ville's. Along the drive, I was noticing what a lovely State I live in. The plains are beautiful this time of year. The fields were dotted with ponds and puddles, and the grass and trees are as green as ever. There were big, puffy, cotton-ball-like clouds in the sky. Once I started thinking about it, I couldn't stop noticing the simple, natural beauty that surrounded me. I saw horses swishing flies with their tails, wild flowers carelessly growing wherever they please, winding country roads, countless rusty windmills, a line of oak trees breaking the horizon, and cattle huddling in the shade.

And I think to myself, what a wonderful world.

End of the Storm

For the last several days or weeks or whatever it has been raining here in good ole Lawrence. It has felt like forever. In a bout of forced optimism, I told myself "at least my truck is getting washed." Today, the forcasters are saying that we should have sunshine for the next couple of days. Yay!
This morning I stepped out the door, breathed the fresh air of the ridiculously early morning, rejoiced in the new day, and noticed a large streak of mulberry-tinged bird poo smeared down the door handle of my truck. Not only is my truck no longer clean, but I have to consider touching bird poo. Pessimism it is.

Cotton Candy

It's fully summer now, I've finally turned on my A/C. Humidity tends to put me in a foul mood and it makes my hair look like...well...cotton candy. So, rather than chop it all off, I normally wear my hair up all summer. I recently invested in some banana clips just to mix it up a little. Yesterday I came to the conclusion that banana clips are the mullet of pony tails. They're dated, sad in a similar way, and yet somehow proud and shameless at the same time. It's quite a riddle. Here's to you, banana clip!

A banana clip with copious amounts of fake hair attached. Nice. 

Here we have the Sunbear in his natural habitat, which apparently is a turnip and raddish patch.  

Virtual Bubble Wrap

Stressed? Try this virtual bubble wrap. It is silly, but fun. My favorite is the manic mode.

Milford

Yesterday the weather forcast was for rain, rain, more rain, some hail, lightning, thunder, and even maybe some tornadoes here and there. What do I do? Go camping of course! Yes, this weekend was my family's (Mom's side) annual camping trip at Milford Lake. Originally, I had planned to go on Friday. Because I had a tent, I decided that I would rather sleep in my own comfy and DRY bed than a soaking, miserable tent. I like nature and the outdoors, but this is where I draw the line. I did want to see the family though, so I went to the lake on Saturday. It was fun, except of course for the hour or two that we spend holed up in Grandma's pimp RV dreading tornadoes and listening to the hail knocking around our vehicles. I did get some swimming in and managed to get some sun before the storm hit, so the day was an overall success. Also, I really enjoyed hanging out with my family. I tend to forget how much they mean to me when I don't get to see them regularly. Ahh.