How I Survive a Slow Wednesday (or Tuesday, or Thursday, or...)

So there's a little something I like to do on slow days at work:

JIGSAW PUZZLES!

Yes, that's right - National Geographic's website has taken pictures people have submitted to them and created jigsaw puzzles to do! 

I'm a total fan. I keep my preferences set for relatively easy solving, because, you know, I'm at work and I can't be too invested. Sometimes I need to step away, or do work things, or pay attention to the world around me a little more, so I can't give myself too much of a challenge. So I've got it on small pieces, and no-rotating option. So the pieces are smaller and more plentiful, but they're already in the direction they need to be, so I don't have to deal with flipping them around.

It's such a pleasant little activity, particularly when a certain House is in Recess and, therefore, I have less to do than usual. And some of the pictures are really good. If you can get on there soon, I suggest going to animals - frogs and toads. One of the first options is this cute little frog resting on its folded arms, smiling at the camera. I was silently giggling (maybe not that silently...) at the sweet picture forever before I could start the puzzle, and the whole time I put it together, I had this idiot grin on my face I couldn't wipe away. It's darling, really, believe me.

I highly recommend it. Think about it - cool picture of Nature and animals, and puzzles! What more could a girl want? A lot, actually, but this fills in the gaps of unfulfilled wants quite enjoyably.

A word of caution though: you'll find yourself getting closer and closer to your computer screen the more puzzles you do at a time, and then you'll jump with more fright than usual when a co-worker or office visitor pops their head over the hutch blocking your desk and starts talking to you. Oh, this scenario doesn't feel relevant to you? Weird, I've experienced it a few too many times lately...

Oh, and you'll want to take a little break from them once you realize you've gone cross-eyed. The fuzziness will go away soon enough.

The Ups and Downs of a Holiday Weekend

This weekend, I enjoyed a wonderful Easter holiday. I hope you did, as well!

I had Friday off, and I spent the cold, rainy day tucked inside my little home, reading in our recliner by the window. Good Friday had a high of about 45 degrees and misted/rained all day, which felt about right for what the day stands for. It was so nice having the house to myself and after getting ready for the day, it was nice to do nothing but read and rest a little. Then roommate Melissa and two of her friends who were in town for the weekend came home from their Maryland outing and we watched BBC's new show "Sherlock," which is really quite good. The day and evening were quite relaxing and enjoyable.

Except for when I went down to my room and found a mutant, man-eating spider on my bedroom floor just before the girls came home. That freaked the relaxedness right out of me.

It seems our organic bug spray an old roommate bought isn't very good. That spider stayed under a tupperware bowl, breathing in the organic fumes for about 4 hours before it was really dead. Yuck.

Saturday was a beautiful day. It was sunny and warm, and I got the house to myself again for the most part of the day. So I watched the beginning of the Goonies on TV, went for a run at the warmest part of the day, came home and finished the Goonies, then sat on the floor and stretched for about 2 hours while I watched the love of my life, Indiana Jones, as he battled and puzzled his way through the Last Crusade. 

I joined roommate M and her friends on a Ghost Tour of Old Town, a quaint old town with some interesting Revolutionary War and Civil War history. By the end of it, I wasn't thoroughly convinced that our tour guide wasn't a ghost herself. Our tour ended at a cemetery in the town, which seemed fitting for this Saturday before Easter.

And then we got home late and I found another giant spider in my bathroom. It got the same treatment as the last, but apparently I didn't spray enough crappy organic spray on it, because it was still alive and moving around the tupperware prison when I woke up the next day. I sprayed some more spray into the tupperware, and the spider went right for it, which led me to two possible conclusions: the poor spider had spent all night in horrible pain, just wanting to die, and it ran to the spray hoping to end its pain quickly; or that organic spray gave the spider a total buzz that it really enjoyed, but eventually the spray won out. 

Either way, I wasn't happy to have to deal with that again.

But Easter Sunday was absolutely beautiful, so I pushed those disturbing spider thoughts out of my head and enjoyed the day. I had a really lovely Easter, ate dinner with a few friends, and got home just as a thunderstorm was taking shape. 2 minutes later, giant hail rained down from the sky, which might have knocked me out if I'd still been outside. The hail quickly switched back to pouring rain, and the thunderstorms were beautiful! I have been waiting for a really good, house-shaking thunderstorm, and we finally got it!

I spent the evening writing in my journal and watching the storm, while roommate M and her friends watched a show. My last comment in my journal was noting how beautiful the storm was, and "the last gift I could receive would be if my basement wasn't flooded from all the rain." I expressed the same sentiment to the girls as I got up to go to bed, and wished them good night, then walked down to my room.

The basement had flooded.

It was like I had jinxed myself somehow. We couldn't reach our landlord after multiple calls and texts, so after cleaning up a bit of the water and moving my stuff around (the floor is uneven, so the water all went to one side of my room), we left it for the landlord to see in the morning, and I went to sleep on the couch.

My landlord got an earful from a tired and frustrated tenant when he came over at 6am, and I was told it'd be all cleared up when I got home from work. And it was - except for one corner of my room that still seemed quite wet, somehow. Not cool.

At any rate, it's all cleaned up (mostly) now, and my room is almost all put back together. And I'm looking for new housing and anyone wanting to sublet a crappy basement. Between spiders and floods, I haven't been very pleased, to say the least.

But Easter itself was great - I hope yours was beautiful (and dry), too!

Rules of the House: No Slamming Doors

I sit right next to our office door at work. I hide behind a little hutch on my desk so people don’t automatically see me and they think to look over at the Staff Assistant to be helped – or taller people completely ignore the Staff Assistant and poke their uncomfortably smiley heads over my hutch and stare at me to help them. That’s when I put on my smiley face, stand up, and try not to be flustered by their hovering presence.

The main reason I bring my desk location up is because our door opens and closes a lot. Congress is currently in Recess, so no one’s really around these days for meetings or Capitol tours, which means our door is opening and closing much less frequently, though our staff members still walk through quite often. Thus, I hear a lot of comings and goings.

The problem with this is that I don’t exactly enjoy the sound a door makes when people close it. Particularly because most people don’t anticipate the general swing of a door, so they almost always slam it, at least a little. Right next to my desk.

Worse still, when a window’s open in our office, or the main doors down the hallway are open to the outside, we get a sort of wind tunnel motion that either pushes the door to stay open (I don’t mind that one quite as much), or pulls it closed with even more force (bah humbug, I say to that).

Everyone in our office has a different way of closing the door. One person is generally softer and the door doesn’t end up closing, so someone else gets up to close it a few minutes later. Another throws it back behind him, not caring that I’m getting an irregular heartbeat from every time my heart skips as the door slams closed, sometimes more forcefully than others. And another takes about 10 minutes to close the door because he hates the sound of doors slamming as well, so he makes sure never to make any sort of sound when he closes it. I appreciate that person the most.

I’ve gotten to the point where I can often guess who’s entering or leaving our office based on how the door closes, without peeping above my hutch to see them. Some days I’m spot on. Of course, sometimes I’m completely wrong, which I guess what I’m trying to say is that it’s not an exact science, but whatever.

All of this to say that you might be seeing a post soon about how I lost my job one because I beat up a colleague in the office after the 500,000^th door slam. It’s one particular colleague who should be fearful of me (see example #2 to paragraphs up). It’s the worst when I’m not paying attention, so I don’t recognize that I need to cover my ears in preparation for his exit or entrance. 

It’s a shock like a firework you didn’t know was being set off right next to you, but without any of the pretty lights and excitement. Sometimes I jump like I was just shot at. I’m surprised more curse words haven’t flown out of my mouth. Generally, a muttered “Yikes!” or “Sheesh!” or “Bah!” gets me settled.

But one day, my soothing words aren’t going to do the job, and when that day comes, look for a post with a picture of a guy nursing a sweet black eye. He’ll learn what slamming doors will get’cha. One day, he’ll learn.

Don’t mess with Towanda*.

(*Fried Green Tomatoes – classic.)

Toothpaste - the New Leave-In Conditioner

This morning I got toothpaste in my hair while I was brushing my teeth.

Gross.

But it wasn't at the end of a loose strand of hair, perhaps a stray section of hair that fell out of my hand while holding the rest of my hair back. And it wasn't during the tooth-brushing finale, when I was getting ready to spit and rinse either.

It was about 40 seconds after I'd started brushing my teeth, when I glimpsed a little bit of blue goo - and it was up near the top of my head, close to the part in my hair.

What the what?!

I don't even know how it got there. I gave it a lot of thought. Tried to picture every move I made since I'd placed a small dollop of fresh blue & white swirled toothpaste on my toothbrush. Nothing made sense.

How IN THE WORLD did I get toothpaste in my hair - at the roots??

I didn't think I knew how to spit up.

Gravity certainly has been playing some crazy tricks on me this morning.

RIP, My Friend

My dear Kohls sterling silver ring passed away late Thursday night at its home, succumbing to a debilitating joint injury. It was 8 years old.

Ring is survived by its dear friends, a girl and her right hand ring finger.

Ring began its life on the loving shelves of a Milwaukee Kohls adoption center. Quickly showing a sense of adventure and beauty, it was adopted by a young girl as she enter her junior year of high school. After a few short stints feeling out the locations of other fingers, Ring found itself most comfortable resting dreamily on the young girl's ring finger on her right hand. There it stayed for the remainder of its life.

Ring graduated high school and finished four-years of college at BYU-Idaho, surviving the grueling winters and grungy college apartments. Despite the hardwork and intensity of classes and a social life, Ring loved college and was sad to leave. But the real world called, and Ring soon found itself in Utah, and then made the exciting journey across the country to Washington, DC, where it quickly made a name for itself on Capitol Hill.

Ring was loved by all, praised for its unique, confident look. It had a gift for making its surroundings beautiful as well. The girl's hand was always more feminine and elegant when Ring was around.

Admired by girls who saw it, Ring was also well-liked and sought after by men, as they yearned for its presence in their own hands.

Ring loved the Sun and always shone brightly in the light, reflecting the happy rays to be enjoyed by those around it. It loved to be set free on a table, spinning effortlessly and gracefully on its edges, like a ballerina on center stage. Ring was a great friend, always there and ready to comfort the girl.

Most of its life, Ring endured a grueling lower joint pain. The joint would get dislocated often, as it hit against the side of tables, door, or walls, or snagged on clothing. It would quickly get popped back in place, but the effects of each dislocation permanently weakened Ring's joint, until it finally completely gave out Thursday night, as it hit the side of a cupboard while helping the girl get a bowl. Many tears were shed as final goodbyes were spoken. Ring's companionship and loyalty will always be remembered and appreciated. Ring will be missed.

A small, private memorial was held over the weekend.

Perhaps This Is Why I'm Still Single

I had to talk to a guy from the New Zealand Embassy today.

Bummer, right?

I had emailed him originally, because we needed to change something we had set up with his office a few weeks back. So I emailed my contact over there, hoping we could resolve this easily. I had originally thought a phone call would be quickest, but for whatever reason, I thought he'd be busy and an email would be easier for him to respond to.

A few hours later, co-worker Josh buzzs me on the phone: "A guy from the Australian Embassy is on the phone for you."

I decide he wasn't paying much attention to the guy's intro and that it's probably my contact from New Zealand, so I took the call.

"This is Kate." Normal American, ever-fading Wisconsin accent.

I guess I forgot that people who work in foreign embassies are usually foreigners from their embassy country, because I was expecting a normal, bland American voice to respond.

Instead, I was greeted by a voice with a Down Under drawl, quite possibly laced with Love Potion #9, because I was suddenly irrationally head over heels in love with the unseen, perhaps married or really old, but necessarily wonderful man on the other end of the phone.

I almost forgot to respond when he followed up his greeting with a clarification question. I quite literally forgot what my voice sounded like and worried I was going to respond with a butchered Aussie/New Zealand accent to make him think I was one of his own.

But just before the silence after his question became awkwardly lengthy, I pulled enough of my bearings to respond in my normal, now slightly more girlish, American accent. With a smile, of course. Because you can hear a smile when someone speaks, I've been told, and I hoped the smile he pictured was stunning to him.

If I'm honest, my completely biased opinion was that he sounded relatively young enough for me to date (because we're totally going to now), and quite single, so I considered this a first conversation to the rest of our lives together.

We finished our conversation - I spat out a few too many ways of saying goodbye, just to keep him on the phone and talking a little longer. Truly, I tried to think of something else I could say to him, if only to make him talk to me 2 minutes longer. Then I went to go get a paper I had printed out before, and I poked my head in J's cubicle, smile plastered to my face, "I could've talked to him for, like, an hour. His accent was SO COOL!"

Josh rolled his eyes as he responded, "Of course you did, because you're a girl."

I was a little insulted, until I thought, "No, that's exactly why. Josh was probably a little put off by him when he answered the phone. Because he's a boy. Girls automatically swoon, and boys automatically get annoyed (because they're jealous, you know)."

So I kept smiling and told Josh I was okay with that, because that phone call made my afternoon 50 times better than it was.

Then I went back to my desk and burst out in random, spontaneous giggles for the next 20 minutes as I stared at my screen, unable to focus on work anymore.

Good thing I got off work 10 minutes later.

Who am I kidding anyway. I'm still giggling and blushing over him, 5 hours later. Now I just need to find a reason to call him tomorrow, too.