The day of annoying things

Most days, I'm Jeff Spicoli.

Most days, I can deal with the things that bug me with a modicum of eye-rolling and some distraction. 

But then, there are other days. Stupid Life Days, where from the moment I wake up, every decision and action is just excruciating. Like, the fact that I had to get out of bed and go downstairs to make coffee was approached with the same agony and fury that I imagine I'd feel if someone was forcing me to drown a baby goat. 

Yesterday was one of those days. By 9 AM, I realized I was having an above average amount of annoyances. So much, that I decided to list them out. To take away their power? Possibly. But more to just commiserate and spread my First World Disease as far as possible. So, this is by no means a complete list, as my brain is an irrational tangent factory, but here's the most of what I could gather:

Shit That Annoyed Me Yesterday

• Facebook 
• that it takes 7 whole seconds for the Keurig to warm up
• that I don't have a shower machine that automatically cleans/dries/styles me
• when the rim of my to-go coffee cup doesn't match up exactly with the cup
• that the eye liner on one eye ALWAYS looks better than the other
• that car in front of me with the GIRL POWER! bumper sticker
• my weirdly placed guilt of being angry about a GIRL POWER! bumper sticker
• my even more weirdly placed guilt about being angry about new feminism and girl's toys and the GIRL POWER! messgage
• morning traffic on my 15 minute drive
• that I have dual monitors but I can't have a different Excel sheet open on each screen
• excel sheets printing out stupidly even though I chose the best settings
• that Joel is on the other side of the world, not waiting at home with a box of doughnuts
• co-workers who smoke from a pipe
• co-workers who smoke from a pipe and then sit in my office to talk to me 
• people noticing my hair cut
• people not noticing my hair cut
• being bcc'd on an email about a proposal I'm managing
• that Reese Eggs aren't the size of my face
• I walk into the bathroom at the same time as someone else, all 4 stalls are empty. I choose the first stall, they choose the stall right next to me, and let out an explosive poo. WHAT HAPPENED TO BUFFER STALLS?
•  3 hours later, going into the same bathroom, and it still smells like poo.
• co-workers who mean well, but just constantly fuck up
• getting Shakira's Hips Don't Lie stuck in my head. 
• spending 2 and a half days preparing for a meeting that everyone insisted was SO IMPORTANT, only to have no one show up.
• a million different kinds of professional demoralization
• Instagram not loading
• finding old lipstick on a coffee mug half way through finishing a cup of coffee out of said mug
• file paths that require 8 years of clicking through files
• the gross images and sounds that are conjured after hearing the term "tongue punching the fart box"
• that crunchy thing I ate in a meal that's not supposed to have crunchy things in it
• getting into a fight with the Tech Support guy over an issue that wasn't really an issue because my boss purposely deleted the file and forgot to tell me
• inserting/editing text in a PDF using Nitro
• people who see I'm on my way out the door but stop to drag me into a 15 minute conversation
• chairs that are slightly too high and tables that aren slightly too short and I have to sit at a weird side angle or squeeze my legs against the bottom of the table
• the fact that my warmest, coziest, most un-failingly perfect and amazing slipper boots have disappeared since I moved home
• unquenchable need to wear slipper boots
• that Target only sells comfy slipper boots in the winter
• that only after I get home do I remember that DSW is right beside Target and DSW sells comfy slipper boots
• awesome sweat pants that are just too short
• the god-damn cable box STILL NOT WORKING
• when curling up in a cozy bed and watching trash TV while wearing my wolfy/bear hat just doesn't have the same magic anymore because my room is trash hole of donation boxes and Go To Storage boxes because some days you just don't have time to do everything and sometimes those days turn into weeks and damnit, I just want to clean my room.
• realizing that I'm PMSing and that's why I'm Captain Grumpy Pants, but I've had my painful period all month thanks to endometriosis and Western Medicine so this is basically my life now.

Today's been kinda better. It's snowing, at least. Just not enough to let us go home early. 

Oh, whatever. I'll just add it to the list.

Here's to a better rest of the week!

*Ps. I think getting Hips Don't Lie stuck in my head was the very worst thing about yesterday. It's still there. It's never leaving. 

Shakira, Shakira Shakira.

Swapping Fun Savers

Joel is a photographer, and a really good one, at that. One of the camera hobbies he has is to take a Fun Saver camera around with him, and then develop it at home once it's used up. Even though he's tooling around with a $7 disposable camera, he catches amazing shots.

(c) Joel Westworth

(c) Joel Westworth

The nostalgia of the Fun Saver really struck me. I'm from that generation that used Fun Savers exclusively because film cameras were too expensive, and digital cameras were only something scientists and movie stars had. But, my uncle got me my first digital camera as a high school graduation present (it weighed 2 lbs and took 8 double A batteries, and had a 1x2 inch screen--and I didn't have a computer with a USB port, so I had no way to download the pictures. Ahh, 2003.) and I all but stopped using Fun Savers.

But, last year, when Joel and I were still getting to know each other, he thought up the idea of filling up Fun Savers and sending them to each other to develop--a cool little way to share each other's lives that wasn't Skype or an email. My first effort was... well, let's just say it'd been about 10 years since I used a camera. Lots of fingers in the frame, bleached out, blurry subjects, "forgot to turn the flash on"moments. You know, professional photography.

Hey Bill!

Hey, No Flash!

Hey, finger!

It was a lot of fun to get Joel's camera developed and see the views from his world, which were so different than my view of cats, sweat pants, and improper lighting.

The next camera took me a long time to fill up, putting a kink in our plans of doing this monthly (I am forever a procrastinator), but Joel took it back with him after his visit to 'Murica*, developed it and sent me the results last week. I'll say, this roll came out much better than the first one. haha

And while Joel and I were in New York, we carried a Fun Saver with us to document our adventures.

The creeper finger is quickly becoming my signature camera move.

One of my fondest memories of his visit is sitting in Washington Square Park in the cold, after we picked up the photos, and looking through them and laughing.

There's something so satisfying about printed photos.  Yes, the instant gratification of a digital camera is awesome, but it doesn't really compare to the anticipation of waiting for your film to develop, of the excitement of opening that big yellow envelope, at the surprise at what came out, of the actual artifacts to look at and hold onto for as long as you can. That visceral experience that comes from holding a photo in your hand will never be lost on me. And it's nothing that looking at or scrolling through photos on a screen can replicate.

It feels like printed photos are relics of the 90's, along with Blockbuster Video and landline telephones; or maybe they're just a snotty Hipster trend. But, some 1-Hour places still exist. And disposable cameras are still around. And even though I can tell the pictures I take because of all the errant fingers and blurred subjects and lack of flash, I like that he and I have this physical documentary of our time together. The memories aren't just in my phone or in my computer.  They're in a scrap book that I can take out and look at whenever I miss him. And it's forever better than looking through a Facebook album. It feels real. It feels permanent.

And I can't wait to have a shelf stacked with books of our Fun Saver adventures.

You know, if I ever get around to putting the shelf up. /procrastination

Oscar Night!

Usually I watch all the Oscar nominated films and put way too much effort into Oscar pools before the big night, but this year, I barely know who's nominated.

I mean, from what I've heard, it's all American Hustle, and not even sneaking a Nalgene container filled with Mimosa into the theater made that movie enjoyable for me. I thought it was the cinematic equivalent of a half-chub. Blah. And I know Matthew McConaughey is nominated twice for Best Actor, but I think he deserves to win the special Oscar I've just come up with:

Best Actor Portraying Mostly Despicable Roles This Year and Yeah, I'd Still Hit That

Seriously. How does McConaughey play a 16 lb kinda scumbag AIDS patient with a pedophile mustache, a sleazy stock broker who'd most likely rape you in the bathroom of a nightclub and still come off as totally fuckable? 

I'm pretty sure it's because, unlike traditional humans, he is a charisma, not carbon, based life form. And he breathes in oxygen and gives off carbon-di-all-ladies-take-your-panties-off. Enormous acting talent, aside, no one can deny that the man is pure sex. Maybe he'll win a Special Achievement in Creepy Asshole Characters.

But, speaking of McConaughey goodness, I'm blowing off the Oscars so I can finish watching True Detective. Holy shit. That show is incredible. And if you haven't started watching it, DO IT NOW OK. 

Alright, I'm off to judge the dresses, which is the best part since the awards are mostly predictable and disappointing. And then I'll be watching True Detective. Which you should all be watching.


Happy Oscars, everyone!
(go watch True Detective)