Why I Am A Schizophrenic Blogger
It's like everything else in my life: I get really excited about something, invest time and/or money into it, and then promptly forget about it for months on end. Blogging? Sounds brilliant! I know...why don't I sign up, post 4 entries in a row, and then randomly think about it again in a month's time! Not that it sounds like any other project that I've initiated...
...like the time that Sandra and I decided that a vegetable garden in our backyard at NASA was the BESTEST idea ever. We spent an entire day removing sod, adding topsoil, digging, fertilizing, planting and watering. Sweaty and extremely proud of ourselves, we showered, settled onto the porch for the evening to enjoy some pints and look over our newly cultivated backyard. A couple of months later, Sandra looked in the backyard and said to me "What the hell is that?". We went outside to investigate, and found a lone radish in the region that we had slavishly ploughed months before. Turns out...we had planted a garden. And we had completely forgotten. Who knew that gardens needed to be tended? 2 years later, I removed some sod from another part of the yard to cover over the saddest-ass garden that ever graced the Steel City (perhaps even the Great White North).
...or the time that I decided that one of the bedrooms at NASA needed to go from dark Maroon paint to Sunshine yellow paint. Being cheap, I did not buy any sort of primer. With paint brush in hand, I undertook the incredible task of brightening bedroom #2. 2 days and 4 coats later, I wrapped the brush in cellophane, left coat #5 for the next morning, settled onto the couch for the evening to enjoy some pints and revel in the glory of my new moddled yellow bedroom. A couple of months later, I walked into bedroom #2 and remembered that I had started to paint it. In the daylight, however, it was very obvious that I needed at least 3 more coats to make it presentable. How did I solve the problem? Sold the house. Never picked up a Sunshine yellow paintbrush again.
...or the time that everyone came over to carve pumpkins for halloween at NASA and decided to save all of the seeds to roast. And there were a hell of a lot of seeds, considering that there were 8 Jack O' Lanterns on our front stairs at the end of the night. Knowing that the seeds needed to be completely dried before they could be roasted, we heaped the seeds onto a cookie tray and placed them into the oven. Washed up, settled onto the couch for some pints to appreciate the pumpkins. A couple of months later, as we were preparing the turkey for Christmas dinner, we opened the oven to prepare it for said turkey. I looked in the oven and said to Sandra "What the hell is that?". A large green mound stared out at me. It was extra sad because we then and there realized how little we actually used the oven to bake anything. In retrospect, I probably could have scraped off the mould to resod the garden.
...or the 3 guitars that I have sitting in my living room because 4 years ago I was going to become the greatest female guitar player to ever live. Don't get me wrong...I have learned out to play. Mostly while enjoying pints. But not well enough to justify owning 3 guitars...2 of which require significant bridge work to be remotely good. And certainly not well enough to play in public, let alone as the greatest female guitar player that ever lived.
...or the time that I went to my parents' place for Christmas, and my Mom bought supplies to make a basket. Apparently, she thought it would be a fun mother-daughter activity to weave a container of sorts. I spent 3 days carefully dyeing the wicker strips colours that I would like, and then attempting to assemble said basket. This little experiment screeched to an abrupt halt in the middle of the 4th day, after having woven about 4 strips around the basket skeleton, with me throwing my project onto the floor while yelling "Fuck It!" at the top of my lungs. Damn it, that was the most frustrating thing I ever tried to do. 2 months later, I received the finished basket in the mail. I guess Mom decided that I should at least get a basket out of the whole harrowing experience, and finished it herself. God bless her.
...or the breadmaker that I was going to use every morning to make fresh bread
...or the full set of paints that I bought because I was going to start painting again
...or the really cool experiment that I programmed 4 months ago to measure face-selective tuning, but haven't actually run on anyone
The list could probably go on and on, but I think you get the picture.
...like the time that Sandra and I decided that a vegetable garden in our backyard at NASA was the BESTEST idea ever. We spent an entire day removing sod, adding topsoil, digging, fertilizing, planting and watering. Sweaty and extremely proud of ourselves, we showered, settled onto the porch for the evening to enjoy some pints and look over our newly cultivated backyard. A couple of months later, Sandra looked in the backyard and said to me "What the hell is that?". We went outside to investigate, and found a lone radish in the region that we had slavishly ploughed months before. Turns out...we had planted a garden. And we had completely forgotten. Who knew that gardens needed to be tended? 2 years later, I removed some sod from another part of the yard to cover over the saddest-ass garden that ever graced the Steel City (perhaps even the Great White North).
...or the time that I decided that one of the bedrooms at NASA needed to go from dark Maroon paint to Sunshine yellow paint. Being cheap, I did not buy any sort of primer. With paint brush in hand, I undertook the incredible task of brightening bedroom #2. 2 days and 4 coats later, I wrapped the brush in cellophane, left coat #5 for the next morning, settled onto the couch for the evening to enjoy some pints and revel in the glory of my new moddled yellow bedroom. A couple of months later, I walked into bedroom #2 and remembered that I had started to paint it. In the daylight, however, it was very obvious that I needed at least 3 more coats to make it presentable. How did I solve the problem? Sold the house. Never picked up a Sunshine yellow paintbrush again.
...or the time that everyone came over to carve pumpkins for halloween at NASA and decided to save all of the seeds to roast. And there were a hell of a lot of seeds, considering that there were 8 Jack O' Lanterns on our front stairs at the end of the night. Knowing that the seeds needed to be completely dried before they could be roasted, we heaped the seeds onto a cookie tray and placed them into the oven. Washed up, settled onto the couch for some pints to appreciate the pumpkins. A couple of months later, as we were preparing the turkey for Christmas dinner, we opened the oven to prepare it for said turkey. I looked in the oven and said to Sandra "What the hell is that?". A large green mound stared out at me. It was extra sad because we then and there realized how little we actually used the oven to bake anything. In retrospect, I probably could have scraped off the mould to resod the garden.
...or the 3 guitars that I have sitting in my living room because 4 years ago I was going to become the greatest female guitar player to ever live. Don't get me wrong...I have learned out to play. Mostly while enjoying pints. But not well enough to justify owning 3 guitars...2 of which require significant bridge work to be remotely good. And certainly not well enough to play in public, let alone as the greatest female guitar player that ever lived.
...or the time that I went to my parents' place for Christmas, and my Mom bought supplies to make a basket. Apparently, she thought it would be a fun mother-daughter activity to weave a container of sorts. I spent 3 days carefully dyeing the wicker strips colours that I would like, and then attempting to assemble said basket. This little experiment screeched to an abrupt halt in the middle of the 4th day, after having woven about 4 strips around the basket skeleton, with me throwing my project onto the floor while yelling "Fuck It!" at the top of my lungs. Damn it, that was the most frustrating thing I ever tried to do. 2 months later, I received the finished basket in the mail. I guess Mom decided that I should at least get a basket out of the whole harrowing experience, and finished it herself. God bless her.
...or the breadmaker that I was going to use every morning to make fresh bread
...or the full set of paints that I bought because I was going to start painting again
...or the really cool experiment that I programmed 4 months ago to measure face-selective tuning, but haven't actually run on anyone
The list could probably go on and on, but I think you get the picture.
posted by Anderson at 1:00 AM
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