I started wearing my seat belt all the time a couple of years ago, after my friend A. got out of a speeding ticket because she was wearing hers. But on Monday I was on my way to work (and what a stupid day to go to have to go to work anyway) and I got pulled over for not stopping at a stop sign.
Truth be told, I was kind of on autopilot and I'm not really sure whether or not I stopped at the stop sign. I think I mostly stopped. Stopped long enough to see there were no other cars in the intersection, anyway. I know for sure that I didn't just blow through the intersection.
There were two cops and they both got out of the cruiser. The one that came to my window ran his hand along the side of my car as he walked up to me. They do that because you might have a hostage in the trunk. Seriously, do I look like the kind of person who might have someone tied up in the trunk of my car?
A dead body, maybe.
"License and registration," the first cop said, while the second cop made a visual inspection of the inside of my car, looking intently for drugs or body parts or illegal fireworks or something. And I had the dog in the back seat. And of course she was barking. Not that I blamed her. I wanted to bark, too.
So the cop took my license and registration back to his cruiser. It seemed like he was gone a very long time. I wasn't too worried, though, because I haven't had a moving violation or even a warning for about 15 years. My record is as clean as a whistle. Plus, I thought smugly, I am wearing my seatbelt.
The cop came back. I noticed he was kind of cute. I gave him by best sheepish smile. He handed me a slip of paper.
"I'm giving you a citation for failure to stop at the intersection back there," he says.
"A warning? Or a ticket?" I asked. I couldn't believe he just gave me a citation without giving me a chance to sweet talk my way out of it.
"A ticket," he said. "But you're wearing your seat belt. That's good."
"THAT'S GOOD?" I yelled. "What the hell good does it do to wear your seatbelt if it doesn't get you out of a goddamned ticket?"
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Overheard at the dinner table
Me: I applied for a part-time editing job on a Web site called Overheard at the Beach.* People submit things they overhear and they're looking for someone to edit the items and write headlines for them.
My dad: And this is on the Internet?
Me: Yup.
My mom: I can't believe anyone would actually know about that, let alone that it would be a job.
I swear, it was an honor just to be a finalist
So a few weeks back Overheard at the Beach was looking for an editor. They posted 100 reader-submitted quotes (things that people had, ostensibly, overheard at the beach) and to apply for the job you had to pick 12-15 of them, edit them and write headlines for them. I sent in my 12-15 edited and headlined items along with my resume and a pretty fresh cover letter. I told them that my cat was probably dying and that I owed the vet a lot of money. (Seriously, what do you have to lose when you're applying for a job like this? You might as well at least try to be funny. And what's funnier than a dying cat?)
While I was waiting for a response I read some of the items and my headlines to my mom. She thought they were hysterical, by the way.
A week or so went by and sure enough, I got a really cool email saying I was one of the finalists for the job. The email was very flattering. I would seriously quote from it, but if I did it would seem like I was bragging. It was that nice.
The next phase was a timed test -- the finalists had to write ten headlines for ten items in 30 minutes. And since I'm the kind of person who thinks of the perfect thing to say 30 minutes after an exchange, I pretty much bombed. Another week went by and I got an email saying they decided to go another way. That letter was nice, too. Just not as nice as the letter saying I was a finalist.
So that was fun.
At least my mom still thinks I'm funny
But the weird thing is, now that the Beach site is up and running, I can see what the winning headlines were for the 100 items as they're posted. Some of them are waaaaay funnier than any of mine were. And some of them are just different than mine were.
One of my favorites was this item ... I love the headline they picked, too. Mine was "Funny, the same exact thing happened to my virginity."
My headline for this item was "It's either that or start a book club."
But some of them are just downright icky. For example, the very first one they posted happened to be one that I wrote a headline for:
Teen boy: . . . and you're so racist.
Teen girl: I'm really not.
Teen boy: It's okay. I find it sexy.
I wrote something like "You look so cute in that sheet and hood." The headline they ended up using goes another way. Ewwwwww. Right?
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*Which, of course, just in case anyone from work is reading this, I would do outside of my normal working hours.
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My dad: And this is on the Internet?
Me: Yup.
My mom: I can't believe anyone would actually know about that, let alone that it would be a job.
So a few weeks back Overheard at the Beach was looking for an editor. They posted 100 reader-submitted quotes (things that people had, ostensibly, overheard at the beach) and to apply for the job you had to pick 12-15 of them, edit them and write headlines for them. I sent in my 12-15 edited and headlined items along with my resume and a pretty fresh cover letter. I told them that my cat was probably dying and that I owed the vet a lot of money. (Seriously, what do you have to lose when you're applying for a job like this? You might as well at least try to be funny. And what's funnier than a dying cat?)
While I was waiting for a response I read some of the items and my headlines to my mom. She thought they were hysterical, by the way.
A week or so went by and sure enough, I got a really cool email saying I was one of the finalists for the job. The email was very flattering. I would seriously quote from it, but if I did it would seem like I was bragging. It was that nice.
The next phase was a timed test -- the finalists had to write ten headlines for ten items in 30 minutes. And since I'm the kind of person who thinks of the perfect thing to say 30 minutes after an exchange, I pretty much bombed. Another week went by and I got an email saying they decided to go another way. That letter was nice, too. Just not as nice as the letter saying I was a finalist.
So that was fun.
But the weird thing is, now that the Beach site is up and running, I can see what the winning headlines were for the 100 items as they're posted. Some of them are waaaaay funnier than any of mine were. And some of them are just different than mine were.
One of my favorites was this item ... I love the headline they picked, too. Mine was "Funny, the same exact thing happened to my virginity."
My headline for this item was "It's either that or start a book club."
But some of them are just downright icky. For example, the very first one they posted happened to be one that I wrote a headline for:
Teen boy: . . . and you're so racist.
Teen girl: I'm really not.
Teen boy: It's okay. I find it sexy.
I wrote something like "You look so cute in that sheet and hood." The headline they ended up using goes another way. Ewwwwww. Right?
.
*Which, of course, just in case anyone from work is reading this, I would do outside of my normal working hours.
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Lynn, Lynn, city of sin
I've been meaning/wanting to take some photos in Central Square in Lynn for a while. It's such an interesting place. Beautiful old brick buildings, lots of wonderful details, rich textures, strong color and lines, great light ... but also gritty and tough and decrepid and dirty. I was there on Saturday for the opening of the PAINT! exhibit at Lynn Arts (My mom has three paintings in the show). I shot about 50 photos in a half hour or so and have posted 10 of the ones I like best in this Flickr set (click on thumbnails to view larger).
(Mosaics created with fd's Flickr Toys.)
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Green day
The dog feels it is her solemn duty to keep an eye on all the critters in my folks' back yard. Click to view larger.
This was an Adobe Photoshop experiment -- I saved the photo in web safe colors to see if that would make a big difference online. It looks a little green to me. But, to be honest, the original might also be a little green. For some reason a lot of my pictures come out a little green.
Meanwhile, here's one that I uploaded without doing a friggin' thing to it:
Father's Day, 2006: Recovering from a romp on a hot sunny day.
Good thing I went ahead and splurged on Photoshop. One of these days I am actually going to figure out how to use it.
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Week 10: I need a weight loss slogan
Ten weeks into the Weight Watchers program and I'm starting to lose my cynicism about the program. It's kind of hard to be snarky and sarcastic about something that's helped me lose 15 pounds so far.
Although I'm pretty sure I burned a few calories at this week's meeting trying not to laugh out loud at some of the positive affirmations the leader suggested. "I can do this," "I deserve to be thin," "I am my own best friend," and so on. I just couldn't stop thinking of Stuart Smalley saying "I'm good enough, I'm smart enough, and doggon it, people like me."
WW is big on this kind of thing. On the WW site there are message boards, and many of the people who post there have little slogans as part of their signature. Stuff like "Nothing tastes as good as thin feels" and "A moment on the lips, a lifetime on the hips," and "The only impossible journey is the one you never begin."
So in an attempt to be a more loyal WW member, I'm trying to come up with a slogan of my own. Something motivational. Something meaningful. Something that will ... Oh, who the hell am I kidding? Here's what I've got so far:
"Nothing tastes as good as thin feels. Except cake. But other than that."
"I'm throwing my boobs a going away party."
"I swear to God I am just big boned!"
"Never wear jeans on weigh-in day."
"Mmmmm, fat-free, sugar-free pudding."
Feel free to leave your weight loss slogan suggestions in the comments section. I love getting comments almost as much as I love cake.
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Although I'm pretty sure I burned a few calories at this week's meeting trying not to laugh out loud at some of the positive affirmations the leader suggested. "I can do this," "I deserve to be thin," "I am my own best friend," and so on. I just couldn't stop thinking of Stuart Smalley saying "I'm good enough, I'm smart enough, and doggon it, people like me."
WW is big on this kind of thing. On the WW site there are message boards, and many of the people who post there have little slogans as part of their signature. Stuff like "Nothing tastes as good as thin feels" and "A moment on the lips, a lifetime on the hips," and "The only impossible journey is the one you never begin."So in an attempt to be a more loyal WW member, I'm trying to come up with a slogan of my own. Something motivational. Something meaningful. Something that will ... Oh, who the hell am I kidding? Here's what I've got so far:
"Nothing tastes as good as thin feels. Except cake. But other than that."
"I'm throwing my boobs a going away party."
"I swear to God I am just big boned!"
"Never wear jeans on weigh-in day."
"Mmmmm, fat-free, sugar-free pudding."
Feel free to leave your weight loss slogan suggestions in the comments section. I love getting comments almost as much as I love cake.
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The friends and family plan
I am still working on editing the photographs from Lee and Katie's wedding and posting them on Flickr. You can see what I've uploaded so far on the wedding set page.
Although some of these photos are public, I'm going to make most of the rest of them visible only to friends and family. That way I don't upset anyone who has little kids (no matter how freaking adorable they are) or embarrass anyone who was dancing to the YMCA song in a funny hat.
The tricky part of that is getting this bunch to register on Flickr so I can give them permission to view and print the photos.
There are lots of benefits to using Flickr instead of one of the other photo sharing sites. For one thing, I understand that the quality of the prints is better. For another, you can actually see the photos before you order them (the ones on those other sites usually look all squidgy because they don't want people to be able to just right click and save the photo to their own hard drive.
Basically it would involve friends and family signing up for a (free) Flickr account and either adding me as a contact or telling me their contact name so I can add them. It might not sound that complicated, but we're not dealing with the most technologically savvy group here.
Although, to be fair, I'm pretty sure my mom ordered those bright blue shoes on the Internets.
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Although some of these photos are public, I'm going to make most of the rest of them visible only to friends and family. That way I don't upset anyone who has little kids (no matter how freaking adorable they are) or embarrass anyone who was dancing to the YMCA song in a funny hat.The tricky part of that is getting this bunch to register on Flickr so I can give them permission to view and print the photos.
There are lots of benefits to using Flickr instead of one of the other photo sharing sites. For one thing, I understand that the quality of the prints is better. For another, you can actually see the photos before you order them (the ones on those other sites usually look all squidgy because they don't want people to be able to just right click and save the photo to their own hard drive.
Basically it would involve friends and family signing up for a (free) Flickr account and either adding me as a contact or telling me their contact name so I can add them. It might not sound that complicated, but we're not dealing with the most technologically savvy group here.
Although, to be fair, I'm pretty sure my mom ordered those bright blue shoes on the Internets.
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