I know I should care about more important things, but it has been bothering me lately that every time I log in to Facebook I notice my friend count has gone down. I'm not sure when I began noticing, but I believe at peak, I had about 335 friends. I am not one of those people who collects Facebook friends like serial killers collecting skin trophies, however, I am also not the kind of person to turn down a friend request unless I truly do not know the person, or have an extreme dislike for them. Also, I should point out that I very rarely send out requests. I just think it's weird, and I prefer that people flock to me desperately wanting to be my online friend and check out what kind of cool movies and music I am into.
At any rate, I can't help noticing the ever-changing number. Are people de-friending me? I suppose it is entirely possible. I have a few people on my friends list that I frequently thing about deleting. Some because of their posting (too much stuff about their kids, personal drama, uber conservative political views, crazy religious opinions, are Farmville obsessed, etc), and others because they are people I don't know very well and are frankly uninteresting (people I went to high school with but never talked to, old co-workers, etc). However, I am reluctant to actually delete this people. Why? Maybe I have some kind of desperate need to maintain my social status of having upwards of over 300 "friends" (with a standard deviation of +/- 15)? Maybe I do get some sick enjoyment out of reading people's crazy posts (even I need something to read at work to kill time)? Maybe I put way too much thought into these things?
The last thing about this that I find puzzling is that sometimes my friend number goes up, without me actually adding people as friends. This leads me to believe that some people are deleting their Facebook accounts and are then reactivating them within a brief time span. Come on people. Either cut the cord or don't, and stop toying with my emotions.
FYI. Today's number is 329. If you plan on de-friending me, please do it quickly and painlessly.
Monday, August 29, 2011
Thursday, August 25, 2011
Blogs that are better than mine parte tres
Looks like I am already falling off the blogging wagon. In my defense, I've been slightly busier at work, which is where I prefer to do my blogging. Also, I've been working on a monster blog but it still isn't quite done yet. Until then, here is an excellent blog, which appears to be updated way more than mine. Similar to the previous one I posted, this one also mocks something near to my hear- fashion faux pas from the Cosby Show. Enjoy!
http://huxtablehotness.blogspot.com/
http://huxtablehotness.blogspot.com/
Tuesday, August 16, 2011
I'm bringing back Doc Martens...
I'm bringing back Doc Martens folks. That's right, along with ska music and pogs, Doc Martens are the latest trend that I am singlehandedly resurrecting. Docs were big in the 90s from what I remember with the whole Seattle grunge/flannel phase that most of America was going through. However, Docs were first became popular in the 60s with people like the Ramones, the Sex Pistols, and skinheads.
I heart the 90s!
My older sister and her friends all wore Docs, and even my dad had a pair (how hip). I got my first job at 15 working at Dairy Queen after school for $4.25 an hour (brutal right?). Using my first paycheck, I bought my first pair of Doc Martens. They were sandals, and I got them on clearance at Dillards for about 60 bucks. I thought they were the coolest shoes of all time. However, they were super impractical. First, if you have ever worn Docs, they are super heavy! Mainly because they are indestructible and last for a million years. The first couple of times I wore them resulted in painful red marks from the straps irritating my feet and leaving blisters. Of course I found a creative solution to this problem by wearing them with socks (GASP!). I know what you're thinking, not dorky white socks with sandals, but cool pre-hipster argyle socks with long pants. Hey, I wasn't the only one doing it. That way you could wear the sandals you shelled out close to a hundred bucks for year round!
I recently rediscovered my Doc collection in a box at my parents house and had to rescue them from the Goodwill pile. Also in the collection are a pair of brown oxfords, and the classic black combat boot. I will need to figure out what outfits I can pull off with these various shoes, since I'm not sure the sock and sandal combo is socially acceptable anymore. Bummer.
These are the combat boots that I need to work back into my wardrobe. Stay tuned for the results...
Monday, August 8, 2011
Blogs that are better than mine part deux
Here is another blog that I find inspirational. This girl's blog concept was to re-live her tween years by re-reading the entire Sweet Valley High series and write snarky reviews about them. This combines several of my favorite things. Namely snarky comments and nostalgia for things from my childhood. As someone who read tons of books growing up (the libary had to invent new prizes just for me during the summer reading club program, impressive, right?), I love the idea of going back to see how the books have aged. Also, it is fascinating that those of us who read these books managed to turn out to be halfway normal people despite the bizarre messages found in some of these books.
The Dairi Burger
Speaking of book and the changing times. Another favorite is a blog that analyzes fashion from the Babysitter's Club series. I love the illustrations and the commentary. I wish I would have thought of both of these ideas.
What Claudia Wore
The Dairi Burger
Speaking of book and the changing times. Another favorite is a blog that analyzes fashion from the Babysitter's Club series. I love the illustrations and the commentary. I wish I would have thought of both of these ideas.
What Claudia Wore
Friday, August 5, 2011
The elevator at my job is creepy
Have you ever read the Amityville Horror? It is one of only a handful of books that gives me the creeps (alongside the Exorcist, The Shining, and The Haunting of Hill House). I'm not generally a fan of horror movies, I think most of them are rather silly and unrealistic. Books on the other hand, are much more likely to creep me out, mainly because my imagination is left to do most of the work (you don't even what to know what goes on in my head). I read the Amityville Horror for the first time just a few years ago. I think I picked it up at the Goodwill for a quarter. Then, like all books I buy, it probably sat on my shelf for a good year before I actually read it. I'm not sure why I even bought it, but when I read it, I practically read the whole thing in one night.
For those of you unfamiliar with it, the book is supposedly based on a true story of a couple that buys a house that is infested with literally every single bad supernatural thing you can have living under one roof. Ancient Indian burial grounds, ghosts, poltergeists, demons, this book has it all. I won't spoil it for you, but there is a part in the book where the couple living in the house stumble upon a hidden room in the basement that is painted entirely red. Although nothing much happens in the red room, it is generally creepy, the family dog refuses to go near it, and it may or may not be a portal to hell (spoiler alert!). So what does any of this have to do with the elevator at work?
Fact. It is nearly impossible to find an "official" picture of the infamous red room. This one appears to be legit (http://www.amityvillemurders.com/facts.html).
The elevator at work is entirely red. The walls and carpet, and there are also mirrors on the doors that reflect the red back at you. It's not a super bright red, but isn't quite a burgundy or purple either. At any rate, I find it creepy and I think of the Amityville Horror every time I get in it. One time, I commented to a fellow elevator rider how creepy the all red elevator was, and this lady was definitely disturbed after I brought it to her attention.
Recently, the elevator has risen to new heights of creepiness. There are several large stains on the carpeting around the entrance to the elevator, which I am assuming are from large quantities of blood flowing out of the elevator a la "The Shining" (or it may be water from the ceiling leaking).
The final weird thing about the elevator is the fact that you HAVE to use it. If you enter the building on the first floor, there are stairs that go down to the basement, but not stairs going up. If you enter on the second floor, there are no visible stairs period. The only way to get to the stairs is to go down the the basement, walk halfway around the length of the building, and take the stairs intended for emergency use only. Fact. I have been working here for six months and finally found out yesterday where the actual stairs are. For whatever reason, we are encouraged to use the elevator which may or may not be a portal to hell.
Here is the copy of the book I own. Mine is much more tattered looking. For more information, check out the official Amityville Horror website (http://www.amityvillehorror.com/)
For those of you unfamiliar with it, the book is supposedly based on a true story of a couple that buys a house that is infested with literally every single bad supernatural thing you can have living under one roof. Ancient Indian burial grounds, ghosts, poltergeists, demons, this book has it all. I won't spoil it for you, but there is a part in the book where the couple living in the house stumble upon a hidden room in the basement that is painted entirely red. Although nothing much happens in the red room, it is generally creepy, the family dog refuses to go near it, and it may or may not be a portal to hell (spoiler alert!). So what does any of this have to do with the elevator at work?
The elevator at work is entirely red. The walls and carpet, and there are also mirrors on the doors that reflect the red back at you. It's not a super bright red, but isn't quite a burgundy or purple either. At any rate, I find it creepy and I think of the Amityville Horror every time I get in it. One time, I commented to a fellow elevator rider how creepy the all red elevator was, and this lady was definitely disturbed after I brought it to her attention.
Red elevator at my job. Is that an orb?!
Recently, the elevator has risen to new heights of creepiness. There are several large stains on the carpeting around the entrance to the elevator, which I am assuming are from large quantities of blood flowing out of the elevator a la "The Shining" (or it may be water from the ceiling leaking).
Here is a bad picture of the possible blood stain. Of course you can't see it very well because the carpet is also RED!
The gates of hell as portrayed by Rodin. For information on other potential portals to hell, check out http://www.hauntedamericatours.com/occult/GatesofHell/.
Thursday, August 4, 2011
I could just scream
I've been thinking a lot lately about what would happen if I just started screaming in the middle of the office at work. For no reason. Would they be alarmed and think I was injured? Would they think I had finally gone over the edge and lost my mind? Would they be concerned? Or fear for their lives?
I'm trying to remember the last time I screamed. Like a really good scream. Obvious candidates are concerts, but I think that is more cheering, or yelling to be heard by someone standing right next to you. Sporting events are likely a no. I usually find it painful to sit through an entire game of anything, let alone get so caught up in the action that I would raise my voice. Probably falls into the same category as concerts.
When I was in sixth grade, our class went to this outdoor education camp where we spent three days or so living in cabins. The purpose of the trip was part educational (we learned all kinds of nature related stuff in preparation) and part was meant to bond our class together as we prepared for junior high. Part of this effort was a trust course high in the air, where you were suspended with bungee cords and cables, and some other fun obstacles/games on the ground. The best part in my opinion was the zipline that went through the woods. Now, I'm generally a scaredy cat about most extreme things, but this zipline was amazingly fun. The teacher that was running it told us that there was a contest for whoever could scream the loudest on the zipline. I remember very distinctly screaming as loud as a could (if I wasn't brave, at least I was competitive). It was shrill and high pitched, probably like most sixth grade girls, but man, I had some stamina. As a result, I won the contest and was recognized at dinner that night.
That sticks out in my mind as the last really good scream I had. Years later, in high school I returned as an outdoor ed camp counselor. I rode on the zipline, but refrained from screaming (didn't want to scare the kids, right?). Maybe screaming is just more socially acceptable for kids. Maybe our vocal cords change as we get older and screaming because less fulfilling, and hurts our throats more. Maybe we hold back too much. At any rate, I could sure go for a good old fashioned scream right about now.
I'm trying to remember the last time I screamed. Like a really good scream. Obvious candidates are concerts, but I think that is more cheering, or yelling to be heard by someone standing right next to you. Sporting events are likely a no. I usually find it painful to sit through an entire game of anything, let alone get so caught up in the action that I would raise my voice. Probably falls into the same category as concerts.
When I was in sixth grade, our class went to this outdoor education camp where we spent three days or so living in cabins. The purpose of the trip was part educational (we learned all kinds of nature related stuff in preparation) and part was meant to bond our class together as we prepared for junior high. Part of this effort was a trust course high in the air, where you were suspended with bungee cords and cables, and some other fun obstacles/games on the ground. The best part in my opinion was the zipline that went through the woods. Now, I'm generally a scaredy cat about most extreme things, but this zipline was amazingly fun. The teacher that was running it told us that there was a contest for whoever could scream the loudest on the zipline. I remember very distinctly screaming as loud as a could (if I wasn't brave, at least I was competitive). It was shrill and high pitched, probably like most sixth grade girls, but man, I had some stamina. As a result, I won the contest and was recognized at dinner that night.
That sticks out in my mind as the last really good scream I had. Years later, in high school I returned as an outdoor ed camp counselor. I rode on the zipline, but refrained from screaming (didn't want to scare the kids, right?). Maybe screaming is just more socially acceptable for kids. Maybe our vocal cords change as we get older and screaming because less fulfilling, and hurts our throats more. Maybe we hold back too much. At any rate, I could sure go for a good old fashioned scream right about now.
Monday, August 1, 2011
The tallest building in Omaha
The tallest building in Omaha also happens to be the tallest building I have ever thrown up in. What a lucky building, right? The First National Tower was built in 2002, the same year I graduated high school. I remember when it was being constructed because it was a big deal that this would be the new tallest building in Omaha. The building that previously had this claim to fame was the Woodmen Tower. I had fond memories of the Woodmen Tower, even though to this day I have still never been inside. There used to be a restaurant on the top floor. My aunt would tell me that she would take me one day, but alas, we never made it and it closed.
The First National building is home to a vertical race called Trek up the Tower. This is an annual event sponsored by the Wellness Council of the Midlands. The idea is to "run" up the tower as fast as you possibly can. That's a total of 40 floors, or 870 steps, or a total of 633 feet in the sky. For reasons that are too complex to explain in a single blog, I was roped into participating in this race.
The event itself was pretty impressive. It is very well-run and organized. However, the atmosphere really wasn't my thing. First, there are hundreds of people EVERYWHERE. I don't do well in crowds, especially those milling around the lobby of a building bumping into each other wearing too much spandex and trying to one-up each other with who is wearing the most impressive "athletic event souvenir t-shirt". After waiting almost two hours after checking in, I finally made it to the front of the line for my race. I should give a little more background information at this point by mentioning that I hadn't done the greatest job with my pre-race training (for reasons that I partially had no control over). Second, I was having a definite cold-allergy type goo issue that morning that I attempted to alleviate with a multivitamin and an allergy pill. As I started up the stairs, I now realize one of my critical errors. My strategy was to start out as fast as possible, thinking I could trudge the rest of the way and have a decent time. I started out taking stairs two at a time and passing people. However, around floor six, my legs and lungs started to burn a little bit. The first water station was around floor eight. I drank some water and sat down for a couple of seconds (also a mistake in retrospect). The rest of the race was brutal. Each floor got worse, and it didn't help that people who were assigned to floors to be cheerleaders would say things like "Careful, the air gets thinner from here on out". WTF? Who says that to someone attempting to run up 40 flights of stairs?
By the time I got to 35, I was pretty sure I was going to die. However, I made it, staggering, gasping, and clutching the handrail like a frail 90 year old woman. The top floor is the executive suite, where the CEO and other important people have offices. I was greeted by a crown of cheering people and given my medal and commemorative towel. I was then corralled into a circle to walk a victory lap, that is, catch my breath and check out the view from the top floor. After cooling down, we were escorted to the elevators to ride back down to the lobby. This is when I felt like I was going to lose my breakfast. I asked if there was a bathroom I could use, and was told I would have to go down to the first floor. I managed to sweet talk my way back to the executive washroom.
When I entered, I was slightly taken aback. This was like no public bathroom I had ever experienced (I wish I had a camera to capture the moment, but it surely would have slowed me down). There were about four stalls made out of what looked like some heavy duty mahogany with gold hardware on the doors. Also, there were no paper towel dispensers or hand dryers, but real towels that were embroidered. I went into the first stall and immediate threw up the contents of my stomach (including my half digested multivitamins). I was incredibly thankful that no one was around to witness my public display of vomiting. I cleaned up what little mess I made, and tried to make myself look presentable. I took one last look around before heading back out to take the elevator back down to where the little people were with their paper hand towels and scratchy toilet paper.
Back in the lobby, I made sure to tell my friends about my high end puking. I'm sure they were secretly jealous, but they just looked at me like I was nuts and asked "Seriously?". At the end of my day, my time was 15 minutes and 34 seconds (the record is something like 4 and a half minutes, crazy!), I had gotten my free shirt in addition to my other tower swag, and best of all, a damn funny story to tell. So would I do it again? Eh, probably not. I'm glad I can say I've done it once, but I just don't get my jollies from these kind of competitive activities. Also, how would I ever be able to top puking in the executive bathroom?
The Woodmen Tower in all its glory!
The Woodmen Tower being upstaged by the super powerful First National building.
The First National building is home to a vertical race called Trek up the Tower. This is an annual event sponsored by the Wellness Council of the Midlands. The idea is to "run" up the tower as fast as you possibly can. That's a total of 40 floors, or 870 steps, or a total of 633 feet in the sky. For reasons that are too complex to explain in a single blog, I was roped into participating in this race.
The event itself was pretty impressive. It is very well-run and organized. However, the atmosphere really wasn't my thing. First, there are hundreds of people EVERYWHERE. I don't do well in crowds, especially those milling around the lobby of a building bumping into each other wearing too much spandex and trying to one-up each other with who is wearing the most impressive "athletic event souvenir t-shirt". After waiting almost two hours after checking in, I finally made it to the front of the line for my race. I should give a little more background information at this point by mentioning that I hadn't done the greatest job with my pre-race training (for reasons that I partially had no control over). Second, I was having a definite cold-allergy type goo issue that morning that I attempted to alleviate with a multivitamin and an allergy pill. As I started up the stairs, I now realize one of my critical errors. My strategy was to start out as fast as possible, thinking I could trudge the rest of the way and have a decent time. I started out taking stairs two at a time and passing people. However, around floor six, my legs and lungs started to burn a little bit. The first water station was around floor eight. I drank some water and sat down for a couple of seconds (also a mistake in retrospect). The rest of the race was brutal. Each floor got worse, and it didn't help that people who were assigned to floors to be cheerleaders would say things like "Careful, the air gets thinner from here on out". WTF? Who says that to someone attempting to run up 40 flights of stairs?
By the time I got to 35, I was pretty sure I was going to die. However, I made it, staggering, gasping, and clutching the handrail like a frail 90 year old woman. The top floor is the executive suite, where the CEO and other important people have offices. I was greeted by a crown of cheering people and given my medal and commemorative towel. I was then corralled into a circle to walk a victory lap, that is, catch my breath and check out the view from the top floor. After cooling down, we were escorted to the elevators to ride back down to the lobby. This is when I felt like I was going to lose my breakfast. I asked if there was a bathroom I could use, and was told I would have to go down to the first floor. I managed to sweet talk my way back to the executive washroom.
When I entered, I was slightly taken aback. This was like no public bathroom I had ever experienced (I wish I had a camera to capture the moment, but it surely would have slowed me down). There were about four stalls made out of what looked like some heavy duty mahogany with gold hardware on the doors. Also, there were no paper towel dispensers or hand dryers, but real towels that were embroidered. I went into the first stall and immediate threw up the contents of my stomach (including my half digested multivitamins). I was incredibly thankful that no one was around to witness my public display of vomiting. I cleaned up what little mess I made, and tried to make myself look presentable. I took one last look around before heading back out to take the elevator back down to where the little people were with their paper hand towels and scratchy toilet paper.
Back in the lobby, I made sure to tell my friends about my high end puking. I'm sure they were secretly jealous, but they just looked at me like I was nuts and asked "Seriously?". At the end of my day, my time was 15 minutes and 34 seconds (the record is something like 4 and a half minutes, crazy!), I had gotten my free shirt in addition to my other tower swag, and best of all, a damn funny story to tell. So would I do it again? Eh, probably not. I'm glad I can say I've done it once, but I just don't get my jollies from these kind of competitive activities. Also, how would I ever be able to top puking in the executive bathroom?
Hey! I threw up at the top of that building!
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