18 Days

We have 18 days left before we move to Atlanta.

Moving to California was quite an adjustment. The weather's different, the people are different, the traffic is different. It took a while for it to feel normal. It took a while to make friends. And now we're leaving. This move will be different, because neither of us have lived in Atlanta. Even though I've lived in the south, I have no idea what living in a big city in the south will be like.

It's funny when I tell people we're moving. Even those that barely know me do that same expression - you know, head slightly rotated to the side, surprised and slightly sad expression. I watch their eyes, wondering what they're really thinking. Are they imagining what it will be like when we're gone? Are they thinking that they'll miss us, or are they concentrating on appearing as though they'll miss us? It's weird to know that even though right now you're a part of someone's life, soon you won't be. It may take weeks or it may take years, but their lives will enclose the void you leave and they'll move on. I'm sure that's what has happened in the lives of my friends that I left in Alabama. And it's weird to know that I won't just fall back in when I move geographically closer, that it will probably never be quite the same.

But I suppose that's part of growing up - at least for me. I realize that there are few constants - I'll keep a few close relationships (God, Brandon, some family members, close friends) and others I'll treasure during the time I have them. In a way we're all passing through anyway. It's tempting to hold back, to not allow yourself to make real friendships because it will hurt when it's over. But I guess that's all part of it.

Fortune Cookie Says

We went out to a Thai/Chinese Restaurant (of course it was authentic) for lunch. Our coworker Dan is from Idaho, and he wanted to try Thai because obviously, they only have potatoes to eat in Idaho. Our friend JJ joined us. His name is actually Justin Jenkins, but I like to call him JJ because it reminds me of Good Times. Plus it's his initials and all. This is his fortune:


That's right, the fortune cookie actually said that. Dyn-o-mite!

Site Love

Slickdeals.net
Such a cool site. It tells you about deals, coupons and free stuff online. I've already gotten $10 off at fye.com and a free razor and some free makeup. Being the miser that I am, I'm totally in love with this site right now.

Stuff on my Cat
Thanks a lot, Paulo. Now I'm totally addicted to this site. It's got pictures of cats! With stuff on them! And when you put stuff on cats, they get angry. Is anything funnier than the facial expressions of an angry cat? I didn't think so.

I would write about more sites, but that's it for now. Maybe more to come. We'll see.

Math + Me = Bleh

I've always hated math. I have this mental block when it comes to the subject. My resistance to it became evident in elementary school. I'd march up to my teacher's desk maybe a few seconds after she'd assigned problems, announcing that I couldn't do it. This of course, frustrated the teacher because I had a bad attitude to begin with. "Don't say you can't do it. You can do it. Say it. Say 'I can do it.'" But my hatred of math and my ability to be stubborn are darned near equal. I couldn't even form the words because I was so convinced that I couldn't, I just couldn't and that was that. Why couldn't the teacher accept this and do the problems for me?

I think my resistance to math had a lot to do with pride. In every other subject I was able to turn in my work first, often before lunch, which left me with free time for the rest of the day. But I struggled and slogged my way through math problems, often finishing near last. I couldn't believe that kids that (I felt) were less intelligent were actually turning in their work before me (I meant it when I said I was prideful). How could that be? The only possible answer was that I was stupid.

But the other night in my Math for Liberal Arts Students class, I had an epiphany. We were doing extra-credit problems with partners, and I noticed that we were almost the only ones left in class - meaning everyone else had finished and left. When I commented that to my partner, she shrugged and said "yeah, everyone else gave up, but we're going to finish this." That's when the epiphany hit.

They gave up.

Why had I never thought of this? I'm such a super dork that the thought never occurred to me that people could give up, that they would even consider trading good grades for the opportunity to leave early. So maybe that's what was happening all along. I mean, sure, other students finished before me because they really are smarter. Which, y'know, is quite possible and maybe even probable. That's fine. I was just so relieved to realize that I'm not retarded when it comes to math. Just naive. And dorky. But I can totally live with that.

Down Came the Rain

On Saturday I dared to do something I seldom do; I got my car washed. And for the whole rest of Saturday and even Sunday I had a green honda rather than brown. But then Sunday night, we awoke once more to a loud noise. This time it wasn't a young man in the throes of adolescence chucking rocks at our window. It was thunder, a rare sound here in southern California. And rain, also rare. I got up and shut the window, glaring at the glossy asphalt outside. It hasn't rained all summer, what with us living in a desert with sprinklers. But now, it rains.

Not just normal rain, either. Mud rain. It exists, really. It must be a California thing too, because I can recall rain actually cleaning my car when I lived in the south. But y'know, I guess it's fair. Around here we seldom get bugs on the hoods/grills of our vehicles. In fact, we hardly have bugs. It's great, not getting bitten by mosquitos the size of bats. And not having to spray on stinky Off bug spray. So y'know. I can accept nasty mud rain. Until we move in a month, that is.

No Natasha Here

Around midnight last night, Brandon awoke to a loud noise. He woke me (I sleep with earplugs) and asked if I heard anything. We groggily got up and turned on the lights and walked around our apartment. Come to think of it, we weren't thinking clearly, because if an intruder were inside, we'd have been caught empty handed in our pajamas.

Then we heard a sheepish knock at the door. Unfortunately our peep hole is all scratched and blurry, so we couldn't make out who it was. Brandon called through the door "who is it?"
A boy's voice replied "is Natasha home?"
"There's no one here by that name."
The boy persisted, "do you know where Natasha lives?"
Okay, it's midnight. The kid had woke us up by throwing rocks at our window. And now he wants our help? Har. Brandon told him he didn't know. Too bad we don't have a crazy cat lady nearby that we could have directed him to.

Afterwards I had to wonder who this Natasha was. Was she going to sneak out with this boy? Is this like the tv shows where the boy throws rocks at the girl's window and she runs downstairs to hop on the back of his motorcycle and ride off into the night? Because on those shows, the girl usually lives in a big house. Not a one bedroom apartment. Assuming this Natasha has a protective, angry dad (otherwise she'd just go out with him in the open) then what are the odds that he wouldn't hear the kid chucking rocks at the window at least a few feet away? Although perhaps this is all part of the whole "survival of the fittest" thing. That kid? Definitely not the fittest.

Naked Juice

I love me some Naked Juice. It's a little expensive, but sometimes I find it on sale for $2.50 a bottle, so I stock up on it. It's usually our breakfast. My favorite flavors are Blue Machine and Strawberry Banana. It has a pound of fruit in every bottle. What's not to love?

Anyway, a word of advice. If you have an ongoing rubber band war going on with anyone, don't leave yourself unguarded when sipping Naked Juice. Cuz it's basically equivalent to splashing yourself with baby food. Trust me, I speak from experience.

Heads or Tails

So after much prayer, debating, consideration and yes, coin-tossing, Brandon and I decided that we'll be moving into the on-campus graduate housing when we get to the ATL. It was a seriously tough decision, and so that you might understand fully, I'll list the pros and cons. I'll start with the cons so that this will end on a positive note.

Cons:
- The apartment will be small. Like, half the size of where we live now. And our apartment isn't huge, either.
- We will no longer have the luxuries that our apartment now provides. Such items include a washing machine, dryer, dishwasher, microwave (we have our own, but still) and garbage disposal.
- This means I will have to handwash my dishes and collect quarters to do laundry in the apartment's laundry room. Con. Big con. I will now block this out of my mind until I am faced with it in a month.
- No pets allowed. The whole getting a cat thing was a major selling point for me when it came to moving to Atlanta.

Pros:
- Guaranteed place to live as soon as we get there. This means that in a year from now, when I want to attend a university, I'll be a bonafide resident.
- Almost all the bills are included in the rent. That means cable, internet, water, ect. Everything except electricity.
- The apartments do provide a refridgerator.
- We'll have an address to forward our mail to.
- I emailed a girl who lives in the apartments that we'll be living in, and she tried to console me over the whole cat thing by saying that there is a stray cat that hangs out behind the apartments. I may get rabies, but me and that cat are going to be tight.
- We won't have to pay for campus parking, which would be $400 a year otherwise.
- We'll have a slightly increased chance to make friends, what with our neighbors being fellow students.
- Living in the apartments will make me appreciate the little things even more. I mean the little things that I won't have. Like convenience in washing clothes and dishes.


Eh, I have a feeling I sound really pessimistic about this. But I'm sure it'll turn out for the best. It's only 'til next May, I can make it. And who knows, maybe things will be better than I think.

And if it's really bad, I can always blame the coin-toss.

How to Pronounce Pi

The B-Greek email list is currently discussing the proper pronunciation of the Greek letter pi. Should you pronounce it pee or pie?

Let me break it down for you. Pee sounds like the act of urinating. Pie sounds like pie, a yummy dessert that is pleasing to the tastebuds. Therefore, it should be pronounced pie, not pee, because it is far more yummy sounding. Got it? Good.

How To Sell Your Scary Movie

I figure How To's are always useful, and since I'm just full of knowledge, I just may start posting them from time to time for your benefit. Today I will tell you how to make a commercial for your scary movie.

For people to realize your movie is scary, make sure you have a child whispering about it. Nothing is scarier than a child whispering. The kid could tell us where the creepy being lives, or perhaps that they play with them because y'know, nothing makes a better companion for a creepy kid than a ghost or alter ego. Perhaps even have the kid sing a familiar song in an all-new creepy kind of way. Because, once again, kids are scary. An out of tune piano is good, especially if it plays songs slowly. Good songs to use are "twinkle twinkle, little star" or perhaps "bicycle built for two."

If you're a seasoned director with quite a few scary movies under your belt, don't feel like you have to be more creative. Use the cliche scary movie advertising method that I just described. Because you're lazy, and you probably figure that most of the people that see your commercial are brain-damaged and their limited ability to recall the millions of films advertised the same way will make this seem fresh and new. You are welcome. Now hop to it!

Keeping it Rural

Wow, my hometown (Eufaula, Alabama) was listed on Forbes' 150 cheap places to live. And I quote:

Tourism is a prime moneymaker in this Alabama-Georgia border town, as the 45,000-acre waterway attracts a flood of visitors. And Eufaula's historic business district, boutiques, specialty shops, and eateries charm even SoHo snobs. Korean carmaker Hyundai is planning to build a $1 billion nearby.

Say what now? They think that SoHo snobs are impressed by the "eateries" of my humble hometown? I never saw any of them eating at the numba one chinese restaurant or any of our two (count em, two) Mexican restaurants. And a Hyundai is "planning to build a $1 billion nearby"? A $1 billion what? It is nice to see my hometown getting some publicity, don't get me wrong. But y'know. Let's also keep it real. Flood of visitors. Heheh.

How was your 4th of July? Ours was good. We avoided the suffocating heat and stayed mostly indoors. We didn't see any fireworks, but we did paint primer over our accent wall, which now has far less accent and far more blah. But we have to repaint it the original color (eggshell white) or else we have to pay out of our deposit for them to paint it. Cuz y'know. The next residents may not like the awesome green color we picked out. Because they could lack taste. You never know.

I also sent out a few resumes to jobs in the ATL that I found online. If you happen to be in the Atlanta/Decatur area and want to give me a job, feel free. As you can see from my blog, I'm great. So y'know. Hire me. :)

The Difference 10 Years Makes

Brandon just got a new license. The one he had previously had a picture of him at 16. He didn't have to get the picture changed because he'd been renewing his license online. However, this time he forgot about it and had to actually go in. So I thought you might enjoy the contrast. The top license is him now, and the bottom is him ten years ago.