time for a rambling sunday night post

Shockingly, having someone jab a needle into your spine repeatedly kinda hurts. (I got someone different when I called the tattoo place back, and he magically found an opening today at noon that the other woman had not been able to see somehow. So maybe that phone disaster wasn’t all me.) So now I’m sore and trying not to lean my back against things. Hard, since I’m currently lounging in bed.

Today involved a lot of Star Trek: TNG and The Avengers. Wesley Crusher is so annoying. Why does he have to be in this show? He is the main reason it’s taken me so long to get into Star Trek, all the ST episodes I saw for the longest time were Wesley-centric (like, totally coincidentally all of them—and I’ve seen that Game one like 3 times) and that just turned me off the whole series. And those episodes were after he hit puberty. I’m starting TNG from the beginning and wow he was even more annoying before his voice cracked. How did this show make it big with him in it? Okay Grace stop being mean to the boy prodigy.

Anyway, so yeah, I’m lame. First sunny weekend Boston’s seen in like eons and I spend half of it watching nerdy tv shows and making smoothies (which involved bits of the blender flying around the kitchen). In my defense, yesterday I did properly summery thing, including mini-golfing and a beach. Much fun.

Um so yeah that’s what I’ve been up to recently. Fascinating, as usual.

You will notice how I’m not give you all a writing update. Yeah, about that…

in which grace fails at normal human communication

My God I am so bad at phones.

I’ve gotten better. I used to hide from them, basically, until a large portion of my job sort of became answering them. (hi Registrar’s Office!) I am almost totally competent at business phone calls now. I still occasionally fumble (today I had two lines going at once and kept mixing them up and trying to transfer people to the wrong people). But overall my ability to answer an office phone has improved markedly. I just kind of click into automatic mode. I even have a different voice.


If I ever have to make a phone call for myself—to my doctor, to a friend, to a bank, to my tattoo artist—I fail miserably. I giggle, or mumble, or accidentally insult someone, or am just generally incompetent. (I managed to do all 4 in my recent call to the tattoo place.) I think because there’s no script. (Like real life. I tend to do all of those things in real life, too.)

So yeah, I don’t have an appointment to get my tattoo touched up, and I’m pretty sure the receptionist is pissed off at me because I was accidentally rude.

I’ll call back tomorrow and hope I get someone else. And am better at the talking thing.


boxes and books

It’s been a pretty eventful weekend here in Gracetopia. Well, really  just one major event. I unpacked my final box! I’m finally moved in!

The astute among you might remember that I moved here in December. So this is six months after I moved that I finally unpacked the final box. Hey, I’m not speedy but I get it done. Tortoise and hare, people. Tortoise and hare.

I mean, granted, there are three piles of stuff from this final box sitting on my floor, just piles because I don’t know where to put anything. But the box is gone, and that’s what’s important.

This final burst of unpacking was brought upon by a sudden desire to get my spring-cleaning done (okay, so maybe it’s summer by now, whatever I procrastinate). This process necessitated the purchase of a 2nd bookcase. Part of my cleaning yesterday was trying to get all my books on my bookcase, and I quickly came to realize that I had twice as many books as bookspace. So, 2nd bookcase! Which then led to one of my favorite activites: organizing my books. Seriously, I love organizing my books.

I may be a slight nerd.

I don’t organize by author, in case anyone was wondering. I organize by category. Within categories an author’s books are grouped together but the authors are not in alphabetical order. Mostly they’re grouped by size—my shelves must be pretty.

My categories, in descending order of size, are:

  • mysteries/true crime (4x larger than next category—this always surprises me)
  • sci-fi/fantasy
  • 19th-century lit
  • children’s books
  • books on writing/writers
  • graphic novels/comics (most of these could be incorporated into sci-fi/fantasy, above, but they look better if they get their own shelf)
  • 1900-1950 books (mostly Waugh and Wodehouse)
  • pre-1900 British lit (mostly Shakespeare)
  • Oscar Wilde (this was larger before the post office lost a box of my books)
  • “modern” fiction (anything after 1950 that I somehow ended up with… a complete hodgepodge)
  • non-fiction (mostly Victorian history)
  • my friends’ books (too small! get on it, guys)
  • miscellaneous (On Bullshit, something-or-other guide to London, 100 Greatest Hockey Players of All Time)

Any books that could go in more than one category go wherever they look the best or whichever category is more specific.

And there you have it, more than you ever wanted to know about how I organize my life.

Speaking of books, there’s still a free book available. Somebody must want it!

why hello there

Can I get a big HIP HIP for the Boston Public Library and their free wireless? HUZZAH! HUZZAH! I mean, I do have to walk like 4 whole minutes to get to the library from my house (uphill in a blizzard both ways), but will you just LOOK AT ALL THIS INTERNET!!! Heaven. I’m in heaven. And my heart beats so that I can hardly speak; and I seem to find the happiness I seeeeek…


Wow I don’t even know where to begin. I’ve been away from blogging/internet so long I’m just kind of in shock, stunned into inactivity by the treasure now open to me. Where to go? What to do? What to say?

I think this is a good time for bullet points. Here we go.

  • The blizzard.  A big huge blizzard hit Boston this weekend, tho I don’t think it ended up as big and huge as everyone expected. So now everything is a winter wonderland and ready for Christmas.
  • I have finally realized without a doubt that the US Postal Service lost one of my boxes when I shipped everything from Minnesota. I wasn’t sure before, see, because I had been living with my sister temporarily and never really unpacked because I knew I’d be moving again fairly quickly. But there were some DVDs that I could not locate, and I began to suspect that a box was missing, but since I wasn’t fully unpacked I thought maybe I just couldn’t find my DVDs. But now that I’ve moved into my new place and unpacked everything, it’s absolutely certain. A box is gone. And not just any box. The box that contained some of my precious books and almost all of my DVDs. Yes, that’s right, most of my DVD collection is gone. Green Wing–gone. Shrek–gone. Yes, Minister–gone. Someone hold me. At least I still have the Star Wars trilogy. (And since the box was mailed in late August, it’s almost certainly in the Dead Letter Office by now–which is in Oklahoma, in case you were wondering. I am still investigating but hold out little hope.)
  • I fail at holidays. For those of you who were unaware. But I know this, and I keep trying to improve, so this year I bought my presents early, like the first week of December, and wrapped them. And now they are still sitting on my kitchen table even though they need to be mailed by… probably last week sometime. Oh well. New Year’s Presents! This is of course not including the presents I still haven’t purchased because some of the people on my list are impossible to shop for. Also–my ability to write and mail Christmas cards is a lot lower than I had expected. So far I have gotten 2 in the mail. My list has approximately 20 people on it. Maybe I should mail out Christmas postcards, that might be easier…
  • I am going to get a cat after Christmas. Excited, yes I am.

Okay that’s about it. I feel like for the amount of time I’ve been away, I should have more bullet points, but really I just don’t. Sorry. So now to wander around the library looking for DVDs since mine are, yanno, in Oklahoma. Or something. Sighhhh…

I won’t grow up (I won’t grow up) No I promise that I won’t

I am twenty-two years old and I still don’t know what I want to be when I grow up. I want to be anything, I want to be everything.

I want to be a writer.

I want to join the foreign service.

I want to get an MBA and earn gobs of money. (I am assuming the economy will straighten itself out at some point and have gobs of money to give me.)

I want to be President of the United States.

I want to be Chief of Staff to the President of the United States. (okay, basically as long as I get to chill with Josh, Sam, Toby, and CJ, I don’t really care what my White House position is.)

I want to teach.

I want to join the Peace Corps.

I want to attend grad school in History, English, and/or War Studies not in order to teach but just because I’m interested.

I want to attend grad school in History, English, and/or War Studies in order to teach.

I want to study criminology.

I want to study law.

I want to move to New York City and become Carrie Bradshaw, but with a much less annoying voice.

I want to get in a jalopy and travel around the U.S. with a dog named Fritz.

I want to hitchhike around Europe.

I want to go back to California and work in a bookstore.

I want to be a daring adventurer whose memoirs live at the top of the NY Times bestseller list.

Some of these are more likely than others. (I am not really President material. Shocking, I know, but true.) Some of these would have required that I spend my four years of college differently. (Either different classes or different study habits.) Some of these are actually feasible. (I know exactly where the Peace Corps application is and they would probably take me.) Some of these are simply ridiculous. (I am not daring, not by any stretch of the imagination.)

So, my current plan is to flounder around helplessly in this post-grad life, trying different things and seeing what sticks. I’ll let you know how it goes.