I wanted a snack. So I grabbed some crackers, some sharp Cheddar, and very sharp knife. I thought I was being careful, but I inevitably cut myself . . . on my thumbnail.
I frequently go on walks and runs around my neighborhood, right? It just helps keep me from going stir-crazy and is pretty decent exercise.
Well yesterday, I was just trying to partake of such energy expenditures, as is my wont. I usually don’t go through the alley, but I did and it was fine, except I hear barking as I pass one fenced-in backyard and I continued jogging, casually looking back to see what Terrier (or possibly Labrador) made that sound.
It was casual, I was casual. Except nope, I wasn’t because there were two GIANT A** St. Bernards practically climbing over the fence! I bet they had the taste of human flesh!
I shrieked like a little girl and ran away. I didn’t die. They didn’t get me. But I did almost turn my ankle tripping on a rock later in my run.
Thought I’d check in.
Recently at work I’ve gotten my first burn, which I was oddly excited about. I’m sure everyone thought I was a mess for showing it off and stuff, but I figure I’m going to get burnt so I might as well get it out of the way. So it did. It’s just a little thing on my index finger.
Anyway, also recently, I ran into one of my former coworkers at an auto repair shop as I was walking and contemplating the possibility of teaching English in Eastern Europe. It was very odd to run into him, but it made me take the possibility seriously, which is good, I guess.
What I would like to demonstrate though, is how much of a mess I am. Because, quite frankly I know no one as messily put together as I am. That’s why I’m starting a new category called “awkward me.” Each post will probably be incredibly short, but hopefully entertaining. 😉
Ok, so there’s a lot cooking here. Yesssss.
First, we have Nehklyudov talking to Fanarin the advocate. It’s great because for the first time in a while, Nehklyudov has to ask someone else for help, which builds character.
So this happens:
‘[W]e have condemned a woman to Siberia, an innocent woman. This troubles me very much.’ Nekhlyudov, to his own surprise, blushed and became confused.
Nekkie!! D’awww. Sometimes I just think he’s so stupid. Of course it troubles you Nekkie! I just wonder what went on between him and our girl, Maslova.
So he’s scrambling to explain himself reasonably, but obviously some inner turmoil is freaking him out emotionally and he can’t quite get it together so Fanarin is condescending as heckkkk during the entire encounter. But Fanarin agrees to look over the case, and so they’re all set to discuss it Thursday, which is a relief to our homeboy, but…
At once a whole swarm of pictures and memories of Katusha and his conduct to her began whirling in his brain, and he felt depressed and everything seemed gloomy.
Ok. We need this story soon.
Instead we get a little info in his current… conquests? Lol XD
He goes to dinner like he promised at some point at the Korchagins. And this people are richhh. We already know that something righteous has awakened in our Nekhlyudov, so it’s not surprising that he finds the excess disgusting.
The main image for this excess: Old Korchagin. UGH! He just sounds smelly, and fishy, and gross. In fact, when Nekhlyudov is invited to dine with the family, Korchy is chowing down on fish and all Nekhlyudov can think about is how cruel he remembers that Korchagin was, sending soldiers beneath him to be flogged or even hanged… because he could.
Though Nekhlyudov knew Korchagin very well, and had often seen him at dinner, today this red face with the sensual, smacking lips, the fat neck above the napkin stuck into his waistcoat, and the whole over fed military figure, struck him very disagreeably.
By now, all I’m thinking is this:
But apparently, when Nekhlyudov does start nibbling, he finds that he’s REALLY hungry. Not surprising. This ALWAYS happens to Russian protagonists, lol. As soon as he discovered this, “he went on eating with zest” (92)!
Another thing we need to talk about: MISSY.
Ugh, this girl likes our homeboy in a major way. A majorly controlling way. In fact, during dinner:
‘Do let him eat,’ said Missy, with a smile. She used the pronoun as a reminder of her intimacy with Nekhlyudov.
She wants to OWN HIM.
But let’s talk a moment about the fantastic guidance from the author. I don’t know about you, but I don’t yet know enough about Russian culture at that time period to immediately realize that her using the pronoun “him” makes a statement, but it does. Claps to Tolstoy and/or editors to helping me out on that one.
Back to Missy: Nekkie describes her as being either perfect or defective depending on, well, depending on what? I think we know. And she might be on her way to Siberia soon. 😉
Nekhlyudov had long been wavering between two ways of regarding Missy; sometimes he looked at her as if by moonlight and could see in her nothing but what was beautiful; then suddenly, as if the bright sun shone on her, he saw her defects and could not help seeing them.
So to cut it short a bit, #THESERICHPEOPLE love Nekkie because:
But I got two last things to say for this chapter… just a little he says/she says.
Missy was very anxious to get married, and as he ws a suitable match and she also liked him she had accustomed herself to the thought that he should be hers (not she his).
Dang, girl. Told you. Possessive.
So she can sense that something has happened (you’re dang right something has happened) and asks him about it, but he won’t divulge the details of the hearing or anything, so of course she’s offended, but listen to this!!!
He was ashamed of having hurt her, and yet he knew that the least weakness on his part would mean disaster, that is, would bind him to her. And today he feared this more than anything, and he followed her silently to the Princess’ boudoir.
Tolstoy, Leo. Resurrection. New York: Barnes and Noble Inc., 2006. Print.
pg. 89, 90, 91, 92, 93, 94, 95
Here’s one I guess I never posted from last summer… lol enjoy.
Now I haven’t made a new post in quite a while. Could be my laziness. Could be my lack of discipline. And yet, I’ve travel to other states, run a children’s summer camp, and trained for a 5K since my last post. So don’t think that I’m just doing nothing. Not the case. But I will admit that I often think of posting and there’s always quite a bit of guilt and stress when I don’t. Anyway, enough. On to the ducks. Now, my feelings about ducks has been consistent for a number of years. I am suspicious about them. Well, just ducks actually are quite dandy. I guess this post is really about geese. GEESE. Jeez. If you go to parks, if you’ve gone to a lake, if you’ve gone outside, gracious, if you’ve seen a goose, you know what I’m on about. They are sleeze-buckets.
Not even sure what that meant, but look here. A child feeds a duck with the crusts of today’s half-eaten PB&J. Cute. The unwelcome crasher of this party, of this veritable storm of cuteness: the goose. NOT CUTE. Geese are selfish and bulky. They ALWAYS get in the way and eat the carbs that you chuck out to the nice ducks. You KNOW that duck has been waiting on that cheap enriched wheat flour white bread all flipping day long and for what? A freaking GOOSE to chow down on it instead? This is why I have goose rage.
And I used to be afraid of geese. Yeah, they can be scary, but I’ve found a method that works for me. You gotta be the man. I mean, I’m an average girl, but I’m the man. Walk up like you own the place. You basically do with your taxpayer dollars. You’re bringing the literal and figurative bread, so bring it. I walk up to a goose like I walk up to a Taco Bell. (Large and in charge.)
The hissing isn’t scary anymore. You just don’t back down. And I don’t. I just dance at them with my headphones like some kind of escapee from the happy house.
So I have recently started work at a different restaurant, one that I can’t exactly name because I agreed not to talk about it by name in social media (including my secret-ish blog) but I can say that it’s a Tex-Mex joint. That’s it. I’ll call it Tex-Mex Land… yeah sounds good.
I will say that it’s definitely a step up from what I’m used to. For one thing, there are a crap ton more menu items. And I can serve drinks now. DRINKS! Which is SO weird. It’s odd not to have to worry about shakes and now instead I need to consider whether or not to card someone and what the heck they put in all those fruity things.
However, I am already feeling quite at home with the staff. So far I think I have 3 favorites, which is to say that I pretty much love everyone. Anyway…
First follow shift. I was actually following one of my old buddies (Yes, I actually happen to have friends at this establishment. The odds.) around and listening to all her advice on how to do stuff. It actually makes you feel like quite a baby, but I’m too scared to go it alone just yet. I have about two more days until that happens.
So we’re leaving some stuff in the dish and I decide to reach up and grab my to-go cup and get some water, but I freaking knock over someone’s can of Monster and it’s sloshing all over the joint like a flipping neon green waterfall cuz it’s up real high on the shelf.
I’m like “S#!T”. Let me just get it together, pick up the Monster and I’m looking around for some paper towels and my friend’s already left to do stuff and I’m left behind knocking someone else’s crap over.
So I’m looking around, my eggs ALL scrambled and crap and I’m trying to get it together and I see I’m not alone. The dish guy is just kinda looking, like not judging, but he totally just saw everything and I’m trying to apologize and stuff but he told me not to worry about it, so I moved on… kind of.
I go over to get water with my cup like I planned, but ~DANG IT~ unbeknownst to me, there was a hole in the bottom of my cup!! How it got there, I have no clue, but as soon as I fill up my cup with water, my friend sees me like “Whoa! There’s water pouring out of your cup!” I’m a fluster as I realize the same fact. And this is in the middle of everything. Like the server station is actually really close to the back where all cooks are, so some of them see me too, just dribblin’ everywhere and in general, a mess. There’s some chuckling I’d say and it pretty much just scuttled over to the nearest trash can and chucked it. No hydration for me I guess.
All this made me feel pretty stupid because I already stand out while being new, so I definitely complained to my friend like “bet they all think I’m a mess already.” Blahhh.
Well, apparently, everyone is guaranteed to love me because I’m “sweet and a good worker” so I don’t know, but we’ll see when I actually get on the floor all by myself, because I KNOW (from past experience) you gotta make a few mistakes before you get really good at your job.
I’m going in tonight so… good luck to me? 😉
As soon as our doll Maslova realizes she has four years in Siberia (that idiot Kartinkin has eight… idiot), she starts bawling. Duh. And Nekhlyudov begins his appeals, first with the president who is anxious to get home to Clara. Now, it’s been a while since I took this up, but I believe there was something not entirely honorable going on here. Awwwk. So the president is sympathetic to a point:
‘Had you but added the words “without intent to cause death,” she would have been acquitted.’
Anyways, he leaves and it’s up to Nekhlyudov to make the case to an advocate.
Tolstoy, Leo. Resurrection. New York: Barnes and Noble Inc., 2006. Print.
(Siberia pic via)
Bottom line: You should love her.
Here is the part where I pretend like I have a million devoted fans. Fake it ’til you make it, right?
Well, since I finally got my degree(s) in tow, now is a good time for me to get back on track doin’ the blogging thang.
Therefore you can expect:
You can not expect: