Tag Archives: tonight


20 Oct

Remember when our basement “went under” with Hurricane Irene? Still hard to believe how much drowned in those six inches of water. Well, since then, every aspect of my life has been undergoing change of some sort.

I moved into Sarah’s bedroom after the flood, and almost two months later, I’m still there. It’s terribly convenient. Terribly. I can sew and sleep within the same four walls. But for a moment, please imagine the chaos that would/did exist in those same four walls when they hold the contents of two rooms – my bedroom and my sewing room. Yup, chaos. Introduce plastic bins from Walmart. Add random cleaning spurts. Sprinkle generously with coffee breaks. And the result (so far) is visibility of carpet. In fact, enough carpet can be seen that I’m considering vacuuming just because I can. By tomorrow, I’m hoping for moderate-to-complete organization of fabric. It’s a long shot, but that’s why the coffee pot is on. Oh and I got a new floor lamp for the sewing corner too. Sorta pretty much really excited about that.

The room in the basement where I used to sleep (and one day will sleep in again) has not gone forgotten. I have big plans for that room! Some changes have occurred, some are still ongoing. Already done: new “genteel lavender” paint job with “polar bear” trim, tile floors instead of carpet, white sheer curtains instead of closet doors, new black dresser, new black bookshelf, new dark wood night stand, new set of drawers at the end of my bed, ALL-plastic waterproof storage, big framed horse print for my horse-crazy lil sis, new black and white lamp. To be done: new curtains for my window, new wall art to cover the electrical box that my bedroom has been blessed with, photos and drawings and other forms of art to frame and hang, new rugs to make out of super-awesome fabric, new slippers so I can actually walk on the tile floors.

I do not currently have pictures of any of these works in progress. I don’t even think I have “before” pictures. But sometime I hope to get some “after” pictures posted here. A reminder from readers would not be deemed unnecessary…jus’ sayin’.

Even at work at the hotel, things are changing! Busy summer season with a bunch of families and unruly children running the hotel halls is OVER! It’s “just” a bunch of business people, construction people, “lifers” (aka long-term guests), other miscellaneous people…. generally people who know the hotel biz and don’t ask a million questions or demand extra pillows or complain about credit card authorizations. It’s nice, I will admit. In fact, this month marks a year that I’ve been working at the hotel! Very exciting! I still love working there! I can’t remember a single day I’ve dreaded going to work there!

Everyone at some point will undergo changes in their life. Adapt. Don’t go under and drown. Even if it is only six inches of water.


Light Reflectors

12 Jan

How many times have I driven past those two-inch-wide reflective markers on the curves of Route 100 and hardly noticed them?

Tonight I drove home in the snow. It was about 2 inches at the hotel when I left, and at home, the accumulation was already 4 inches. During one section of my drive home, there were no street lights. The windshield wiper blade was not getting all the snow off my window. And I could barely see more than 10-15 feet in front of my car. I tried to just follow the tire tracks in the unplowed road, but it was difficult to differentiate between the tire tracks that were ON the road and the tire tracks from the cars before me that had veered OFF the road.

What kept me on the road? The reflective markers. I could usually see one at a time. And as I would pass the one I could see, another one would blink its reflectiveness at me. From such reflective blinks, I found my way home.

It also helped that I was going about 20mph. (I only slid around once on a totally unplowed section of road that was an inclined curve. I’m blaming the road for that slip and letting my car off the hook.)

But I thought about those light reflectors.

They needed the light source of my headlights. But even my headlights could not reach very far.

This isn’t going to be a perfect analogy, but listen anyway! We are all like I was, driving with poor visibility and only reflective markers to guide me home. In life, our poor visibility is caused by our shortcomings, our lack of faith, or maybe just a trial that God has allowed in our lives. The headlights are like the light of God’s Word. It illumines our pathway, but not the whole path. Just the part that we must tread upon soonest. The reflective markers are the promises that God gives to us. But we won’t see those promises unless we “turn on” the light of God’s Word in our lives. Make sense?

So uh….what’s new?

1 Jan

I got asked this question today. It’s so difficult to answer. Um. What’s new…. My car? My job? My socks? My unfortunate zit? Ooooh I know! The YEAR! That will be my response from now until the year gets old. Which is usually when I finally remember to write 2011 instead of like, ya know, 2008. (I seriously had a moment today when I thought the year was 2008. I quickly snapped out of it.)

I celebrate every new DAY, so celebrating a new YEAR wasn’t such a big deal. It’s all the same. Stay up late, eat jelly beans, do something fun, do something productive, greet new day/year, do more fun and productive things, curl up in a blanket, eat more jelly beans, brush teeth, zonk out. *yippee*

This year for New Year’s Eve I worked on a puzzle with my two sisters. The excitement was when I found a stinkbug on my jelly beans.

Last year I watched a movie with my sister, my bestie, and her sister. The excitement was when we actually got sleep.

The year before last year, I watched several movies with a couple friends until we finally zonked out at 7am. The excitement was that not exactly everyone zonked out, and the only wakeful friend started a facebook account for me.

The year before the year before last year, my family tried staying awake, but they all pretty much dozed off at some point. The excitement was painting my brother’s toenails bright red.

Like ten years ago, I was in the Czech Republic with my family to celebrate Christmas and New Years with some friends. The excitement was drinking sparkling apple juice (Robby Bubble, to be exact).

The year before like ten years ago, was the infamous Y2K, for which we went to my mom’s parents. The excitement was sitting on the couch, doing word search puzzles, eating peanut butter swirl ice cream, waiting for the world to end.

I can’t wait for next year, 2012, when the world is supposedly going to end. I cannot wait to prove those silly Mayans wrong. The soonest that the world could possibly end would be 2018, after the 7 years of tribulation.

But I’m no prophetess.

I have no resolutions to get anything done or to make myself better. However, I’d better start now.

Merry Pop (the sequel)

26 Dec

This story is based on more fact than its predecessor, Pop. The following events actually transpired to, and in the near vicinity of, the author and can be verified by the fire report bearing the name of the author.

Working at a hotel on Christmas day isn’t so bad. Guests are in a happy holiday spirit, and I get to meet (most of) them at their cheeriest moment. The hotel that I work at was pretty slow and empty most of Christmas day. There were two main families who had decided to host their Christmas festivities here at the hotel. Family 1 hosted theirs on the 1st floor, and Family 2 on the 2nd floor. It is to Family 2 that our eyes turn for the crux of this story.

9:00pm. It was hardly three hours into my shift. Coincidentally, it was also only three hours after having discussed with my manager the small handful of times the smoke alarm has ever gone off while I was working. I gave it not one more thought.

Until the alarm went off.

Keeping my head together as well as one can do when an alarm is beeping, I ran to the alarm panel to assess the situation. I then took half a step away from the alarm panel and towards the phone so I could call the guest’s room to assure their safety. Half a step.

Then the house alarm went off.

That means that instead of one room and the alarm panel in the back being the only two beeping items, the entire hotel’s alarm system was involved in a “beep-beep” cycle. A cycle that happened, oh, every second. Until I hit the “alarm silence” button a full two seconds later. I had undone that half step away from the alarm panel, located the button, and pressed it with very little delay.

I finally got a chance to make my way to the phone to call the guest, who happened to be a member of Family 2. I went through my mandatory spiel of “Please do not open your hotel door. Feel free to open a window, but keep your door shut.” It is then that they reveal the cause of the alarm.

“I just put popcorn in the microwave and forgot about it.” — member of Family 2 (Insert unpaid commercial for Brian Regan. He talks about this very scenario on his newest audio release. Finding something in the microwave that you forgot about. It’s hilarious, as always.)

*steps on soapbox* Really? Really?! It takes 3 minutes to pop popcorn, maybe 4, and in that time frame you forgot?! You didn’t smell it burning, but its smokiness managed to set the alarm off for the whole hotel?! That’s a bunch of baloney. Smoked baloney. *steps off soapbox*

By this time, I realized that there is no danger. This situation is so minuscule that even The Great Brian has poked fun at it.

I placed my next phonecall to the dispatch office to let them know that it was a false alarm. The lady was very helpful, but oh, the first responders were already on their way.

They arrived amazingly fast. I was honestly impressed. I feel safe knowing how quickly help can come when I need it. But how embarrassing it is when help comes when you don’t need it. It’s like Banana Man from Patch the Pirate.

I escorted the fire official up to the room of Family 2, so that he could ascertain whether there was any cause for fear or not. As I called the room to alert Family 2 of our arrival, I heard him talk on his radio, telling dispatch that he didn’t know the exact cause and not to stop the other responders from coming.

So they came.

By the time I arrived back at my front desk post, there was a grand total of four first responders with their red lights a-flashing merrily, and one fire truck pulling in with red and white lights a-flashing. Off in the distance, a stop light turned green.

And together, with our red, white, and green lights flashing at will, we celebrated Christmas with a ka-thumping heart.

just the facts

27 Sep

I’m always amused by my blog stats. Seeing the line graph of hits per day excites the mathematical side of me. And it’s fun to see which totally random auto websites are sending me spammish business. But the search terms are the best. Who really searches for these things? And for what purpose? And did my blog satisfy their pondering?

“how to make elephant”

“fun jacket lining boy”

“face of a mad man”

“your eyebrows are so amazing mountain”

“how to spell achoo”

“achoo…blame it on the rain!!”

“beef slaughter”

“emoticons with a nose are weird”

“oldest working slaughter house”

“квадратная кружка” <— True story. This is in Russian…something to do with a square mug.

“blank square pillows”

The absolutely most popular search that brings viewers to my blog is “Lindt,” leading them to this post from almost two years ago. I was curious to see how close to the top of the search results my blog currently is for “Lindt,” but I got tired of looking after scanning through six pages of results. So I don’t know how long ago it was that my blog was a top result for “Lindt.”

But my blog is the eighth result in a Google search for “achoo.” This could be classified as exciting!

My most popular post of all time is “Of postage stamps and politics,” which is from many, many searches for “trumploid,” which isn’t even a word. But at least I’m not the only one who thought it was spelled that way. See? I’m not the only one thus convoluted.

Fact: This entire post was written in a frenzy of procrastination.

*cricket, cricket*

19 Sep

Such a noise usually indicates an awkward silence. But imagine how awkward the silence would be if the silence was totally silent? That is to say, without the cricket at all. That happened to me the other night. I was almost cricket-less.

I sleep in the basement, in the corner of my room, in the corner of the basement. At the head of my bed is the utility box (or whatever it’s really called) that houses the switches to power everything in the house. Such a placement has led to a few humorous or awkward occasions during which I wished I had cleaned my room BEFORE the repairman came. But that conjures up different stories than the one I’m telling.

This is about a cricket. Actually two crickets. Somehow, every summer, crickets find their way into the portion of the wall that houses the utility box. And there they live and chirp all night long. I’ll remind you…..this is at the head of my bed. Mere inches from where my eyes should be closing in blissful sleep.

On August 4th (I looked it up), I sent out a late-night twitter, “There is a very vocal cricket chirping in the wall, mere inches from my head. Maybe i should teach him a lullaby so i can get some sleep.”

We tried killing them with ant spray, then again with wasp spray. Still. Every night, long after the lights were out, when I crawled into bed, they would begin their duet.

First there was a long, almost-shaky chirp from a cricket with a deep “voice.” It honestly sounded like it was dying. *cri-i-i-iiii-i-ck-k-k-et*

Then a second, more confident one. *cri-i-i-i-cket*

And before too long there was a second cricket chiming in. The second one was higher pitched than the first, possibly a younger cricket.

It used to annoy me to no forseen end. Then suddenly one night, I didn’t hear the crickets. I laid in the enveloping silence, straining to hear even one chirp. The silence was almost unnerving. I tried laying on my back. Then on my side facing the wall. Then I flipped my pillow to the cool side. Then I lay perfectly still. Just when I thought I was going to explode from the deafening silence…..



And the duet began once again.

Every night since then, I have looked forward to my nightly serenade. The older cricket is Gerald and the younger is Jehu. But about two nights ago, I stopped hearing the crickets altogether. I know this happens at the end of every summer. But this time it’s extra-sad. Probably because I named them.

Why Sleep?!

29 Jul

I am unabashedly a night owl.

Nighttime is MY time! I have hours of time during which all my distractions (aka family members) are sound asleep. I can sew. I can blog. I can make patterns. I can clear the whole dining room table and use it as my work table without anyone complaining that they wanted to eat lunch at the table. I can create walking hazards which will bring necessary bolts of fabric nearer to my workspace without the inevitable daytime passerby tripping.

Around 10pm, the activity at this household slows down until only the rhythmic breathing of sleeping persons is left. About that time, I begin staking my claims on various rooms, taking over the house as I see fit.

I could totally relate to the museum characters in Night at the Museum. I too come alive at night!

I do try to get to bed by about 2am or 3am, usually successfully. But depending on my load of homework and the amount of procrastination I have done, I might not sleep at all and will still be awake to greet my family at the way-too-early rising hour of 5am.

What keeps me up at night? The possibility to accomplish!

Why sleep when there’s so much to be done and the night is young?

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