(i'm post-dating this to the actual time of the blessed event.)
I found a little surprise when I got back from a LOVELY wedding in California! Well, more accurately, I smelled one...(I will say, I find it fascinating that, even without formal training or prior experience, the recognition of the smell of death is somehow innate.)
Maybe fleas are the worst, but this was definitely the grossest...
dead. mouse. under. the. fridge.
After trying to stay away from my apartment for a day, I decided it was time to scour the place to find the source of the horrible smell. Finally, after a lot of searching and sniffing (I felt like I was playing that hot/cold game...the smell is stronger over here! that means I'm closer...), I saw what looked to be a tail leading from under the fridge.
I pulled it out, using a plastic bag and a lot of napkins. (After prepping myself for a few minutes to be ready for what I was about to see.)
But even with all that, I could still feel that disgusting tail. It was wedged, so i had to squeeze and pull that rough tail. Worst thought at this moment was, "What if I rip the tail off the body?"
What I was not prepared for...
THERE WERE (BOT FLY?) LARVAE CRAWLING ALL OVER ITS BODY.
what's it like? Like this... (just not orange) TIMES FIFTEEN. (I didn't take this video. Just found it, so you would begin to understand. I won't even begin to describe the SMELL.)
Why?! Why. ;( :$
Tuesday, June 5, 2012
Friday, May 25, 2012
A clarification for mirnhoj
I'm pretty sure we've discussed this many times, John, but just to be clear ;)
I still believe that people can change. And that they do. And that it can be a really great thing. But I guess I will concede on the point that maybe people don't do it quite so quickly as I anticipate. I think being friends with me can be burdensome because of that--in fact, I think that that's why I am burdensome to myself. Because I expect a lot more out of me that I can sometimes produce. But, since this post is pretty much directed to you, and you expect an air of superiority from me, I will conclude by saying that at least I change faster than most. :) haha. [Partially to mostly] kidding. (The brackets here are used with their mathematical connotation, to represent a range, that my kiddingness falls somewhere between partial and mostly.) I am slowly coming to embrace just what a nerd I am. I thought I had, but I think I've actually been suppressing it for a while...at least with most people.
That's all.
I still believe that people can change. And that they do. And that it can be a really great thing. But I guess I will concede on the point that maybe people don't do it quite so quickly as I anticipate. I think being friends with me can be burdensome because of that--in fact, I think that that's why I am burdensome to myself. Because I expect a lot more out of me that I can sometimes produce. But, since this post is pretty much directed to you, and you expect an air of superiority from me, I will conclude by saying that at least I change faster than most. :) haha. [Partially to mostly] kidding. (The brackets here are used with their mathematical connotation, to represent a range, that my kiddingness falls somewhere between partial and mostly.) I am slowly coming to embrace just what a nerd I am. I thought I had, but I think I've actually been suppressing it for a while...at least with most people.
That's all.
Thursday, May 24, 2012
Writing heals my soul.
I imagine most of you aren't interested in the specifics of what I'm researching (the guts that I think are interesting...or sometimes try to convince myself are interesting, for the sake of research :) ), but the topic I think is probably generally of interest. It's about how game mechanics are being added to tasks to make them more enjoyable, and thus done more regularly.
As I've been perusing dozens of apps and websites, etc., I've run across some pretty interesting ones, though in the end, I wonder how much they'd actually do for me. And then I found this one. 750 words. The point is just to get yourself writing--free writing. It's like blogging, but not, because I get to write the types of things I don't put here, or, quite frankly, anywhere out loud, because I haven't found anyone that really wants to listen, without all the drama of taking it personally, trying to give advice when I can't take it, etc. It's only been 3 days, but it's amazing. I feel cleansed. Because, as you may or may not know, I tend to think on the side of relatively a lot. :) And I think that contributes a great deal to my emotional extremities. But getting it out, having it written...it's better than just thinking it. My thoughts become more solid, even to myself. And I'm able to see my own errors and shortcomings. And somehow it's not overwhelming, but relieving. It's 750 words, because it takes more thought than a simple journal entry like, "Nothing new today." Or "PhD is hard." I don't know that I'm really motivated by the challenge of being put on the wall of shame if I don't do it everyday, but I think I am motivated by the potential to be 100%. Meaning doing it everyday. Even when it's hard. Even when I think there's nothing more to say. (Ha! Will there ever be a day?)
Anyway, I just wanted to share. Just in case someone else is in need of something similar.
Also, other cool things include the fact that there's a little bit of sentiment analysis going on. That means you can see how emotional your writing is, what you're concerned about, and your overall mindset. Whether you're focused on past, present, or future more. And whether I focus on myself or others more. So fascinating.
So I don't love that I'm more negative, but it's where I am right now, and I think I know it. But as I flush it out, I thought it'd be nice to see my progress out of it.
As I've been perusing dozens of apps and websites, etc., I've run across some pretty interesting ones, though in the end, I wonder how much they'd actually do for me. And then I found this one. 750 words. The point is just to get yourself writing--free writing. It's like blogging, but not, because I get to write the types of things I don't put here, or, quite frankly, anywhere out loud, because I haven't found anyone that really wants to listen, without all the drama of taking it personally, trying to give advice when I can't take it, etc. It's only been 3 days, but it's amazing. I feel cleansed. Because, as you may or may not know, I tend to think on the side of relatively a lot. :) And I think that contributes a great deal to my emotional extremities. But getting it out, having it written...it's better than just thinking it. My thoughts become more solid, even to myself. And I'm able to see my own errors and shortcomings. And somehow it's not overwhelming, but relieving. It's 750 words, because it takes more thought than a simple journal entry like, "Nothing new today." Or "PhD is hard." I don't know that I'm really motivated by the challenge of being put on the wall of shame if I don't do it everyday, but I think I am motivated by the potential to be 100%. Meaning doing it everyday. Even when it's hard. Even when I think there's nothing more to say. (Ha! Will there ever be a day?)
Anyway, I just wanted to share. Just in case someone else is in need of something similar.
Also, other cool things include the fact that there's a little bit of sentiment analysis going on. That means you can see how emotional your writing is, what you're concerned about, and your overall mindset. Whether you're focused on past, present, or future more. And whether I focus on myself or others more. So fascinating.
So I don't love that I'm more negative, but it's where I am right now, and I think I know it. But as I flush it out, I thought it'd be nice to see my progress out of it.
Thursday, May 17, 2012
The doggies go to...
Boston Public Gardens.
Copley Square.
Anthropologie.
the Charles River.
the Freedom Trail.
the subway.
Yale.
the Philadelphia Art Museum.
Kelly Drive.
the Rodin Museum.
Logan Square.
Love Park (the JFK Plaza).
City Hall.
John F. Collins Park.
Independence Hall.
the Liberty Bell.
Princeton.
the Jackson Premium Outlets.
Wednesday, May 16, 2012
I never used to be a crier...
At least that's what I tell myself. Maybe these are all the tears that I never shed as a child. My sister left today, and I couldn't...can't...stop crying. I can't quite put my finger on it.
"Did you know that the people that seem the strongest are usually the most sensitive? Did you know that the people who exhibit the most kindness are usually the first to get mistreated? Did you know the ones who take care of others all the time are usually the ones that need it the most? Did you know the 3 hardest things to say are: I love you, I’m sorry and Help me?"
Anyway...
"Did you know that the people that seem the strongest are usually the most sensitive? Did you know that the people who exhibit the most kindness are usually the first to get mistreated? Did you know the ones who take care of others all the time are usually the ones that need it the most? Did you know the 3 hardest things to say are: I love you, I’m sorry and Help me?"
Anyway...
Monday, April 30, 2012
Like a child at home
I get it. Or at least, I'm getting in.
I really want to write this out so I don't forget what this feels like. After the anger, which is really just a lot of hurt, it really isn't about who did what wrong. Even though the strongest of strong temptations is to say that I am justified, that daggers have pierced my soul and wounded my delicate mind, even if that's true, I can put the pieces of my broken heart in God's hands. (Is there still a part of me that secretly hopes said culprit will find this and apologize? Of course. But the fact that I don't need that anymore (because a few days ago, that's all I thought would fix the problem), is the reason that I want to remember what I actually feel right now. Sure, I'd still like some resolve, because I just don't like when things don't have a finite ending. But maybe, even with words, they still wouldn't. But the thing is, now--unlike a few days ago, or yesterday even--I am actually in a state of mind where I could talk.) My mind and heart are aligned--where I've stopped creating unrealistic expectations in my mind and letting it go rapid fire, and my heart has caught up, has embraced what is.
I have never been good at being submissive, but I'm starting to. And not doing it begrudgingly, but willingly. So I finally get to feel what I think He has been promising me the whole time, if I would have just let Him in. I was leading choir on Sunday and explaining how the dynamic of the song needed to follow the meaning of the words. And as I described the chorus, I knew--No more a stranger, nor a guest, but like a child at home. I hate crying in public (but as a new friend reminded me, there's nothing wrong with crying; one day I hope I'll really be able to believe that...), but these tears felt so good. I have been a stranger to Him; I have felt apprehensive about being in His presence; but now, now I feel like a child. For the loneliness that I have felt in the deepest, deepest part of me for so long, it is finally being filled. And I guess it's not ironic, that at the same time, all the people who I have loved, and had felt so painfully separate from, seem so much more present. And almost like I love them all better. Because I am loved. And I have let Him love me. (It's frustrating, because words just don't capture what this feels like. Or just how intense a process it has been to let Him love me. But what else do I have but words to record this?) I realize, too, that I could not have asked for this sooner. I am stubborn, and until I was broken like this, I wouldn't have been able to choose submission in the hardest moments.
My computer hadn't been playing DVDs for the past month (maybe as another way, too, of making sure I stayed at least somewhat focused), but I came home Saturday night and was hurting. A lot. Not angry. Just hurt. And I prayed that God would just be with me as I watched Tangled til I fell asleep. I (pride myself on) never asking for things like this--usually I keep fighting it, thinking I can get through it, or try to fix the problem myself (usually by thinking about it, which makes things worse), or...probably other things--but that's when I felt most like a child. It was just something small. I needed to know that He was here. Now. Not that I could push myself, yet further, to keep believing in the one day that everything comes out in the wash. But that I could feel Him now. I think I can ask for that sometimes. And He came. And He stayed. There's still a part of me that feels like I'm taking advantage of Him; that I can't ask for things too often. And there probably is a reasonable limit. But right now, I feel surrounded by His embrace, and I know that even when I can't feel it like this, because sometimes He has to let go, the hope He has given me is no less real. I believe Him! I believe that He really will take care of me. This is the love I have looked everywhere for. This is the taste of Home. And why it's all worth it. Even if nothing turns out how I planned.
I really want to write this out so I don't forget what this feels like. After the anger, which is really just a lot of hurt, it really isn't about who did what wrong. Even though the strongest of strong temptations is to say that I am justified, that daggers have pierced my soul and wounded my delicate mind, even if that's true, I can put the pieces of my broken heart in God's hands. (Is there still a part of me that secretly hopes said culprit will find this and apologize? Of course. But the fact that I don't need that anymore (because a few days ago, that's all I thought would fix the problem), is the reason that I want to remember what I actually feel right now. Sure, I'd still like some resolve, because I just don't like when things don't have a finite ending. But maybe, even with words, they still wouldn't. But the thing is, now--unlike a few days ago, or yesterday even--I am actually in a state of mind where I could talk.) My mind and heart are aligned--where I've stopped creating unrealistic expectations in my mind and letting it go rapid fire, and my heart has caught up, has embraced what is.
I have never been good at being submissive, but I'm starting to. And not doing it begrudgingly, but willingly. So I finally get to feel what I think He has been promising me the whole time, if I would have just let Him in. I was leading choir on Sunday and explaining how the dynamic of the song needed to follow the meaning of the words. And as I described the chorus, I knew--No more a stranger, nor a guest, but like a child at home. I hate crying in public (but as a new friend reminded me, there's nothing wrong with crying; one day I hope I'll really be able to believe that...), but these tears felt so good. I have been a stranger to Him; I have felt apprehensive about being in His presence; but now, now I feel like a child. For the loneliness that I have felt in the deepest, deepest part of me for so long, it is finally being filled. And I guess it's not ironic, that at the same time, all the people who I have loved, and had felt so painfully separate from, seem so much more present. And almost like I love them all better. Because I am loved. And I have let Him love me. (It's frustrating, because words just don't capture what this feels like. Or just how intense a process it has been to let Him love me. But what else do I have but words to record this?) I realize, too, that I could not have asked for this sooner. I am stubborn, and until I was broken like this, I wouldn't have been able to choose submission in the hardest moments.
My computer hadn't been playing DVDs for the past month (maybe as another way, too, of making sure I stayed at least somewhat focused), but I came home Saturday night and was hurting. A lot. Not angry. Just hurt. And I prayed that God would just be with me as I watched Tangled til I fell asleep. I (pride myself on) never asking for things like this--usually I keep fighting it, thinking I can get through it, or try to fix the problem myself (usually by thinking about it, which makes things worse), or...probably other things--but that's when I felt most like a child. It was just something small. I needed to know that He was here. Now. Not that I could push myself, yet further, to keep believing in the one day that everything comes out in the wash. But that I could feel Him now. I think I can ask for that sometimes. And He came. And He stayed. There's still a part of me that feels like I'm taking advantage of Him; that I can't ask for things too often. And there probably is a reasonable limit. But right now, I feel surrounded by His embrace, and I know that even when I can't feel it like this, because sometimes He has to let go, the hope He has given me is no less real. I believe Him! I believe that He really will take care of me. This is the love I have looked everywhere for. This is the taste of Home. And why it's all worth it. Even if nothing turns out how I planned.
Saturday, April 28, 2012
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