Ms. Spell Talent

Project: Legit Blog (not just a public diary)

2011-03-02T13:19:00.000-08:00

Hey everyone!

I have not been very kind to Blogger or my 3 followers lately. I got a new laptop for Christmas and have been merging the two machines together. One laptop (a Dell named Half-Pint)is strictly for my iTunes and digital pictures. The newer laptop (a pink, unnamed HP) will hold all my legal research, law school outlines, and papers. Both need some security updates and junk...thus, I never really have the down time to blog like I'd like.

Though really...I haven't experienced much to blog about.

Actually...that's a lie. Life has dealt some big events lately: Hyde's surgery, a new baby at work, new bullsh*t at work, spelling bee drama, and the ever-ending drama of THE Boston trip. I guess I could muster up some interesting stories to blog about, but I can't generate the appropriate perspective and/or energy.

That brings us to....da da da duh....my NEW project.

I'm making a new blog - The Culture of Cora. I'm trying to figure out what makes me who I am. What music genre do I fall under? What aisle of Barnes&Noble do I live in? Am I ironically mocking hipsters or am I authentic in my hipster-ish interests and tastes?

All of my favorite blogs have a hook: new and modern moms, expats adjusting to new cultures, the grad-school experience, fashionistas, environmentalists, people who can actually cook. I'm interested in all these things, but I am an expert at none. I know what I like...but I'm not sure how it relates to each other.

So that's CoC will focus on: whatever interests me at the moment. :) Not terribly exciting or newsworthy, but I'm looking forward to actually writing. And that's kinda newsworthy for me.

So check back for updates. Honestly...I promise.

Lazy Morning

2010-09-30T07:47:00.000-07:00

I'm still here. Doing nothing particularly fabulous or interesting.

Currently, I'm lying in bed at my bro's house. In front of me, I can see the expansive front yard and the cars passing by on the two-lane state highway. My bed is pushed up against another window; I can see the delightful dense woods to my right and hear cars bumping over the bridge. It rained yesterday. Everything is misty and drizzly and a few shades darker than normal.

I'm propping my laptop on my ribcage and knees. I slept in a tie-dye shirt and Victoria's Secret sweats (omg! The most comfortable sweat pants...EVER. I have two pairs and crave more). Mr. Big is stretched out near my ankles; I can feel his paws move when he runs in his sleep. :) I still have on my glasses even though I took Big for his morning potty walk, ate breakfast, and brushed my teeth.

I've been listening to the radio since 8:30am. After all the morning talk and crazy antics (this morning, especially), we're finally getting to the crappy pop music. Normally, I love pop music. But the last four songs are grating on my nerves. I just can't hear "Ain't no holla-back gurrrrrrrl" before noon...or three cups of coffee. Even then, I'd feel like punching someone.

I have my Jane Eyre paperback on my nightstand because my nook needed charging last night. The biggest downside to an e-reader is that, unlike REAL books, its batteries will go dead. I finished my fourth book in a row on my nook! I think I've read my nook every day since I got him! (Yes, my nook is a male. I'll devote a post to my new inanimate-object-tech-gadget-boyfriend). Don't think too highly of me. Most of those books were under 300 pages and pure literary fluff. And slightly trashy. But just as addicting as crack...or so I heard. Not like I know how addicting crack is. Just rumors.

ANYWAYS....I figured watching Jane Eyre on PBS one more time would be kinda pathetic. So I flipped to my favorite parts and read. In honor of "Banned Book Week", I'm reading "Lolita". I'll need a fully charged battery if I want to finish by Sunday.

So...yeah. I kinda want some coffee now. I suppose I should fold some laundry and shower before I go into work. Darn it. Stupid responsibilities.

Where Everybody Knows Your Name

2010-08-24T21:14:00.000-07:00

Working at a pharmacy is more about working with patients than about working with drugs. Drugs don't yell at you. Drugs don't complain about insurance prices that you have little or no control over. Drugs don't try to forge prescriptions or fabricate sob stories to get their drugs early.

Nope, the pills and tablets are easy. It's the people that make life...interesting.

What's that TV channel with the slogan "Characters Welcome"? They should apply that slogan to a pharmacy. We see the best and worst of humanity, the high and lows of stereotypes in society. The "Regulars" are the patients we see weekly or have such a personality that they make themselves KNOWN. We know so much about such a small, small part of their lives...their ailments, their health, their spouses and children, their jobs and hobbies. Regardless, some of these people welcome us into their lives and consider us, the pharm staff, friends! Weird!

Here's a brief sketch of four of our "Regulars":

* Big Bob - has the raspiest voice on earth. Thick southern accent + years of smoking + loss of hearing = Big Bob's voice. Add a crappy drive-thru speaker and Big Bob's rattling rust-bucket-of-a-truck and you start to wish for the ability to read minds. Big Bob is always known as Big Bob. He has no last name. I'm pretty sure his driver's license only says "Big Bob". Like an endangered species, he only appears 10 minutes before closing (even if he called HOURS ago to check on his meds). He refuses to pay more than $30 for anything (although rumor has it that he has more money than God). He assumes you know what he needs when he orders his "salve". For anyone born AFTER the Great Depression, "salve" is code for any type of ointment/lotion/cream to rub on one's body. Nevermind that there are chemical and medicinal differences between lotions, ointments, and creams (thereby important information to the pharmacist) and hundreds of different TYPES of topical solutions for different things...you only need to know one word: SALVE.

* Silvester Silversmith - lost most of his jaw to what I assume was gum cancer. Given the demographics, I bet it was from chewing tobacco. Regardless how or why, the man has no real jaw. And while I'm changing names to protect the innocent (and my job. Hello, HIPPA), the irony of his speech impediment is not lost on his actual name.

* Abe Martin - had a double lung transplant and was sent home that night from the hospital. Apparently organ transplants are out-patient procedures now! I'm not sure how old Abe is, but he looks much older than his actual years. He's bony and frail and ghostly pale. Normally he rides on a Hover-Round chair with a surgical mask on his face (to prevent infection). He used to be attached to an oxygen tank too. Thankfully, he's much better now and doing quite well. :) He's the biggest flirt and most optimistic person I ever met! You ask how his day is and he replies, "Best day of my life! I woke up! I'm alive! And I'm here with my favorite people...you all!". He's always saying how lucky the guys are to work with "such beautiful women" and "pretty young ladies". I remember being intimidated of him in my earlier career (probably 'cause he was grumpy, on steroids, and couldn't breathe) but now I love to see Abe. He makes me grin with his sincere gratitude for life.

* The Duke of York - thinks his real name is the cleverest and funniest thing on earth. It's not. We all get the royal reference and joke. You didn't even come up with the name, dude. Your mama did. So shove it. To make matters worse, The Duke is a lover of bad puns and worse cliches. And he's a talker. And he comes by EVERY DAY. No kidding! EVERY DAY! Even holidays! Even on Sundays after church. EVERY flipping DAY the man has another horrible quip about something insignificant and pointless. Worse of all? He takes three minutes (we timed him once) to write a check. And he ALWAYS writes a check...ugh!

I'm Not Dead Yet! I Feel Happy!

2010-08-18T21:09:00.000-07:00

(any Monty Python fans out there? Spamalot, anyone?)

Okay, I'm back. After...oh, I dunno...a week to 10 days of no cell phone and no wireless internet, I am back to my cyber-social life. I dropped my cell in the Kroger parking lot. It then went dead. Someone finally e-mailed me about it, but Jody doesn't have wi-fi at his house; therefore, I haven't checked e-mail or facebook in weeks! Apparently people thought I was really dead (or at the very least seriously hurt/lost/ill).

So now I'm back! Yay! I missed a lot of important news (looking at you, Ducharme!)and you, devoted audience, have missed a lot as well. We'll start with the most basic news and we'll work our way through the updates in future posts, shall we?

I'm now living with my younger brother...in HIS house.

Yeah...kinda humbling. He also makes more than I do and only has a tech-school degree. Not that there's anything wrong with that. Jody's BRILLIANT at anything mechanical and automotive. He has common sense and a sense of direction (two things I severely lack). I would never be able to do his job and be as successful. Just like he'd struggle to write a 15 page political science thesis. To each his (or her) own.

But...I'm the oldest. I'm the one who's "smart" and voted Most Likely to Succeed. And I'm the one paying my little brother rent. Again...pretty humbling.

Pros of Living With Sibling
* Cheap rent (or not at all this month because I'm giving the house a top-to-bottom cleaning!)
* He's letting Mr. Big (my dog) stay. :) He swears he doesn't like Big, but he plays fetch with the annoying chihuahua for hours.
* He wakes me up early! Trust me, this is a Pro because I've been 10 minutes EARLY to work instead of 10 minutes late to work ever since the move.
* He has a bad-ass $400 sound system (the better to hear movies with)
* He has two big flat screen TVs (the better to see movies with)
* Somebody to understand and join in when I need to vent about the parental units
* He's letting me decorate and re-organize his house...MY way! :)

Cons of Living With Sibling
* We share the same shower. Although he has a sweet bathroom attached to his room, the extra-large tub has no shower. And apparently boys only take showers. No bubble baths. Go figure. As long as there's no boxer or greasy tools in MY bathroom, I'm okay.
* Jody does not pick up after himself. I tend to pick up as I go throughout the day and do an all-day-clean-sweep sometime on the weekend. Jody only picks up after himself before guests come over.
* Jody enjoys farting for laughs. He thinks it's funny. Someone lied to the poor boy.
* He moved a REALLY heavy big screen TV from the 1990s into my closet. Why? 'Cause he didn't want it. Not cool, bro, not cool. It will take 3 or 4 people to move it out. Where? I dunno. But I sure don't care!

Really, I'm enjoying spending time with Jody. I can tell he enjoys it too. I missed him last year. I'd love to be elsewhere...Boston...and on my own and starting my own life, but it's nice to feel needed and wanted.

More posts later...promise!And a more detailed explanation about Boston and law school and how fate is not my friend right now.

Who takes care of the caretaker?

2010-07-13T22:18:00.000-07:00

My morning started at the unholy hour of 7a.m. to the equally unholy groans of my mother. Until you hear your mother moaning and groaning in sincere pain, you don't know helplessness. So I fumble down the stairs in a foggy slumber with a chihuahua at my heels and four shih-tzus jumping about because they think it's time to play. I get the canines out the door and focus on Mom.

There she was...
Sprawled on the sofa. Drenched in clammy, cold sweat. Her abdomen was actually hot. She's basically begging to die because she was in such miserable pain. She had already thrown up during the night. TAB cans and Klenex are scattered on the floor.

What can I do? I just place cold washcloths on her head and stomach. Adjust the fan so it's blowing on her. Hand feed her ice chips. Bring new pajamas so she can change. And I wait until she falls back asleep.

Then I herd the pack of dogs back into the kitchen. I feed them, water them, pick up after them. I mop the floor (Okay...I used the Swiffer Wet-Jet. I am no domestic goddess by any means). I sort the laundry and start a few loads. Clean out the fridge of old leftovers. Take out the trash. Check on Mom and head upstairs to make a pot of much-needed coffee.

It was only 10a.m. College-Cora would have just woke up. Caregiver-Cora just accomplished Round One of her duties and preparing for Round Two.

I keep running into this dilemma: no one understands what it's like to be the twenty-something child of a cancer patient. There's camps and programs for CHILDREN of cancer patients. After you're over that troublesome puberty stage, there's no more support groups. I'm sorry, but you need your parents throughout high school, college, your first real job, your first serious relationship, your wedding, and your first child.

Charlie made the comment today that he was "sorry to hear Mom's doing poorly" and that "it must be real hard for such a young lady" and that I must "feel like running away sometimes."

Uhhhh..no shit, Sherlock. But his fingernail didn't even scratch the surface.

I'm proud to take care of my mom. I'd give her a kidney and a lung and a new car if it would make her healthy again. She apologizes for being so sick and needing my help; I can't help but see her staying up at night with me, putting washcloths on my head, and fluffing my pillows. At the very least, I owe her that much.

I love my mother...unconditionally. Just like she loves me.

I just feel torn between my carefree twenties when it's okay to make mistakes and take risks...and being cautious because I need to be the responsible caretaker and support system at home.

Sometimes...especially at 10:45am when I have to clean up another mess and tuck Mom into bed...that I wish I had someone to take care of me, too.

A Glimpse Behind the Curtain...

2010-07-08T22:21:00.000-07:00

One of the biggest reasons I haven't explained THE BIG NEWS is that I haven't made the official announcement at work. Thanks to some elderly family friends and well-intentioned neighbors, I was constantly asked "What are you doing now? Did you finish school? Are you going to pharmacy school?" To which I had reply, out load and in front of my boss/co-workers, about the very private and complicated matter of my future. And how it didn't involve staying put.

I love the Pharm, I do. But I'm not meant to stay there forever.

So here's THE NEWS as it stands.
...I am moving to Boston to attend the New England School of Law.

Take a minute because I sure am. I still can't believe it. I actually moving to the city of my Emerald City dreams. The Holy Grail of my academia fantasies. I am actually fulfilling one of my childhood dreams. I'm starting to understand why so few people actually follow through with these dreams.
They're scary as hell!

Here's the facts:
A) I paid my tuition deposit. So I officially have a seat saved with my name on it.
B) Mom has pretended to be me for two months now in her quest for an apartment. We still haven't signed any paperwork.
C)Apparently Boston is not a very dog-friendly city because no one will rent to people with dogs! Cats - smelly, shedding, clawing cats - are OK. Dogs are not.
D)People also don't want to rent to students with no job and paying for their rent/bills/food completely through student loans.
E) I'm moving into hypothetical apartment by August 1st. Possibly on September 1st. (God, please be so kind and let me move in August 1st!) Orientation starts Aug 13th. Class starts August 23rd.
F) Like I said...everything will be paid for through loans. I'm qualifying for some financial-hardship grants, but I'm going into this thing with no cash safety net. I'm scared shitless.
G) Did I mention I'm getting an apartment sight-unseen? I have an aunt and cousin willing to check the place out...but the first time I'll see the place is after I sign a lease and I'm moving boxes.
H) I feel like I'm already behind for class and I should be studying. NOW.
I) No one knows about any of this at work because I don't want to jeopardize my employment if things fall apart.

I'm tired of keeping this news a secret from the people I see 5-6 times a week. Yeah, Jessica knows the most details. Brian overhears things, but never asks questions. Tara and I talked about apartment hunting one weekend (then blabbed to everyone the next day). Everyone else knows I got into two schools and I'm having a hard time financing everything and have no where to live.
All true facts...just not the complete and disclosed truth. Lies by omission are beautiful but complicated things.

So...I'm announcing my plans and news to the blogging world at large. Facebook and Twitter announcements are too public (Josh is a Tweeting/Face-stalking fiend). So consider yourselves the first to really hear the official, semi-public news...

I'M GOING TO LAW SCHOOL!!!!!!!!

Wear Your Hard Hat

2010-06-16T20:18:00.000-07:00

I'm toying with the layout, background, coloring, and font.

Yup...changing everything but the name. :)

I think I got the Subscribe button to work though!!! So click it if you haven't...so that's everyone but Mack.

I have several rough drafts of some blog posts, so come back soon. My laptop is also under construction, but we should be reunited next week.

Ummm...

2010-05-24T14:08:00.001-07:00

Dear Mattel,
Thank you for using Barbie to promote the new Disney film, Toy Story 3; however, maybe you should re-think your ad campaign.
We appriciate your honesty, but we already knew Barbie was a skank-ho. Just sayin'...

Seriously,
Concerned Cora

And survey says....

2010-05-05T09:34:00.000-07:00

1) What author do you own the most books by?
A.K. Applegate. I own the entire Animorphs series, so she wins by default based on pure volume.

2) What book do you own the most copies of?
Ella Enchanted – 3 copies. One paperback at home, one paperback for dorm/transit home, and one autographed hardback to cherish forever.

3) Did it bother you that both those questions ended with prepositions?
Nope. Dr. B and Judy Austen taught me that proper communication trumps proper grammar.

4) What fictional character are you secretly in love with?
Mr. Edward Fairfax Rochester.

5) What book(s) have you read the most times in your life?
Ella Enchanted, The Giver, and The Witch of Blackbird Pond. I probably read each of them once a year since middle school.

6) What was your favorite book when you were ten years old?
I was in love with the Dear America diaries and the Animorphs series.

7) What is the worst book you've read in the past year?
LOL! The Blonde Samurai! UGH! I’m embarrassed that I even considered lowering myself to read it.

8) What is the best book you've read in the past year?
The Time Traveler’s Wife. That book stayed with me for weeks.

9) If you could force everyone you tagged to read one book, what would it be?
Atonement. It will change the way you see “the truth”.

10) Who deserves to win the next Nobel Prize for literature?
Although she’s a Young Adult writer, I think Laurie Halse Anderson has tackled some tough issues with a unique and creative approach. She’s not a one-hit wonder.

11) What book would you most like to see made into a movie?
I’m actually thrilled to learn that Pride and Prejudice and Zombies will be made into a film! Especially since Natalie Portman is on board as Elizabeth Bennett!! I’m anxious to see that in theatres.

12) What book would you least like to see made into a movie?
Ella Enchanted was ungodly horrid. Ummm…I’d hate to see a Dorothy Parker or David Sedaris film because you’d lose their voice in translation.

13) Describe your weirdest dream involving a writer, book, or literary character.
I dreamt that I was discussing a PhD dissertation with some Shorter professors. All the professors had evolved into Alice in Wonderland characters and we were having a tea party in a tea-house.

14) What is the most lowbrow book you've read as an adult?
Pride and Petticoats (it was a gift!) and Twilight.

15) What is the most difficult book you've ever read?
Wicked. I’m going to reread it one day. I didn’t fully appreciate all the religious and political ideology. Too many terms and -isms were referenced without my complete understanding of their meaning and significance. The author has an EXTENSIVE vocabulary! I had a list of words to look up every night.

16) Shakespeare, Milton, or Chaucer?
Shakespeare.

17) Austen or Eliot?
Austen, but I haven’t experienced much Eliot.

18) What is the biggest or most embarrassing gap in your reading?
Not a lot of modern/post-modernist novels. No Orwell. I’ve read very few plays.

19) What is your favorite novel?
Jane Eyre.

20) Play?
Angels in America.

21) Short story?
OH!! “The Lottery” by Shirley Jackson introduced me to amazingness of short fiction! Great beginner’s classic! “He noticed” by J. Robert Lennon showed me that less is not only more, but unlimited to the imagination.

22) Work of non-fiction?
The Nine – an intimate look inside the Supreme Court.

23) Who is your favorite writer?
Dorothy Parker!

24) Who is the most overrated writer alive today?
Stephenie Meyers for introducing the world to Twilight and the all the vampire-romance knock-offs.

25) What is your desert island book?
The Portable Dorothy Parker. Her poetry, short stories and bio would keep me pretty entertained.

26) And ... what are you reading right now?
The Other Boleyn Girl, Marie Antoinette, and The Cloud of Unknowing

...and it starts...NOW

2010-05-01T15:19:00.000-07:00

Capital-L LIFE is about to start.

I have a goal again! I have deadlines! I have decisions to make and plans to form! I have a Pro/Con list in the works (and if you know me, you know that's a serious indicator of things to come).

I feel like...yes, I can achieve things in life. That, no, I am not damned to a listless life of hourly wage within FoCo.

I haven't felt this optimistic since my senior year of high school. Isn't that crazy? Somewhere between summer and my Harvard rejection letter, I just didn't care about school. I didn't care if I graduated high school; I felt that I had earned my diploma long ago, that I had put in the man-hours, sweat, blood, and tears, and that it was my God-given-right to get the hell out of NFHS. Then I went to Shorter. While I was never thrilled about my choice, I resigned myself to the knowledge that The Hill was the right place for me at the time. Shorter was small and community-involved (perhaps too much? Regardless, people KNEW you at Shorter). I had a different college experience from many of my friends, but I never saw it as a negative experience. Overall, I enjoyed my time in Rome. I discovered more about myself, my beliefs, and my interests.

Then...this past year. Another growing experience. I don't regret this year. I needed an academic break. I needed to remember why I loved reading and learning. I needed a personal break as well. I was needed at home, needed at work. I was where I needed to be.

But now it's time to move on.

I feel like I've been a caterpillar for the past five years. Maybe I was a caterpillar who awoke too soon and got frostbit. I wasn't ready to leave the cocoon. But I think Spring is finally here...and I'm ready. I'm nervous. I'm afraid of going out into the big, bad world again. But I think I'm a bit stronger now. : )

Sorry for the cryptic blog. If you know me and my plans, you may be able to guess what's happened.

I'm just hesitant to shout my news from the rooftops (or in cyberspace). I have this unfortunate gift of announcing plans/desires/hopes and they pull a 180* on me. The exact opposite happens. Every time. So...once checks are deposited and I've signed my name about a hundred times and everything is OFFICIAL, I'll continue to be a bit more cryptic. : ) Sorry.

Rx: TT tab q46h prn

2010-04-20T20:17:00.000-07:00

Hmmm...must MAKE time to blog.
On a regular basis.
Like...for an hour after Glee.
Insert goal onto exponentially growing list of life-altering-To-Do-list.

Life, while not terribly exciting, has been good for the past few weeks. I had intended on updating the blog world-at-large of recent events; however, I have been struck by a serious case of Ihatetheworld-itis with a side of allmenshoulddie syndrome and mylifesucks disease. The symptoms struck earlier this afternoon (on my day off from work, thus worsening my condition) and the disease is contagious.

In an effort to keep my negative attitude from spreading like an epidemic, I have written myself a prescription for blogging only positive events since my last post.

My brother got a divorce! Trust me, this is a good thing for all parties involved. He's happier, so I'm happier.
Minnie and Lola gave birth to NINE puppies (collectively)
Glee is back on TV.
Finished Julia Child's memoir. Found new mentor and role model.
Had really good chat with Pizzle. Two hours. Lots of laughs. Less self-conscious. Still convinced nothing is there but friendship and vague flirting...but still a good feeling.
Moved my coffee pot into my bedroom.
Flew in an airplane. I love window seats. : )
Bought New Moon DVD.
Bought Time Traveler's Wife DVD.
The Suitemates reunited for Amber's wedding. It was a nice vacation (sort of) and great to hang out with old friends.
The Hike for Hyde raised a lot of money for Atypical HUS research (total still pending, but well over $20,000.) Check http://www.hike4hyde.com/ to learn more.
Beautiful spring weather means more walks with Big and more exercise for me!
Mr. Big still loves me.
Got a new haircut that people have complimented me on.
Bought new, stylish sandals.
New issue of Modern Dog magazine hit the stands.
Got new box of contacts, so less must-wear-glasses days.
Had a manicure and pedicure.
Learned how to play "Breakfast at Tiffany's" on the ukulele.

So, you can see that I have much to be thankful for. Lots of small things have happened in life that bring me joy and a sense of contentment. I just need to focus on these events until my ihatetheworld-itis has run its course.

I'll blog soon to expand more on these amazingly positive events and perhaps discuss some not-so-great news. We'll see how my treatment goes...

P.S. If you can translate the above title, I was send you a Starbucks gift card. For serious.

Can you use that in a sentance?

2010-03-19T09:40:00.000-07:00

Live from Georgia State University, it’s the GAE State Spelling Bee!!
Yup, I’m blogging from the spelling bee on my day off from work. Nerd? Totally.
I’m taking notes on how to run a better bee, from the judges’ and callers’ point of view. For Mom. You know...for research. Not cause I'm here for my own enjoyment or anything...

Rupee (the monetary currency in Pakistan, India, Sri Lanka, etc) is a practice round word. These kids are for real-real; they don’t play-play, y’all.

I have a weird fascination with spelling bees. Firstly, I cannot spell like these kids. But I love any kind of academic competition. I find the strategy of spelling fascinating. There are so many more rules than “i before e except after c”. For example, words with Greek origins use ph to spell the f-sound. Many of the kids read the dictionary each night…literally. (Get the pun?) Some kids write out the words with their fingers. Some tap their leg to keep the rhythm. I'd love to claim that these ticks and quirks are voluntary, but some of these kids are just weird like that.

For so many of these students, they’ve never, ever failed. Anything. Then they find themselves on a stage, facing their parents, with an intimidating mic in their face, and a domineering female prompting them with a word striaght out of their Latin-to-German-to-French nightmares. You can see the panic sweep over their little pre-pubescent faces. They keep asking for definitions, sentences, and parts of speech in order to stall for three more minutes.

There is ONE chance to get it right. No going back and correcting yourself. No sound but your racing heart and clicking cameras. All the attention in the room is on you.

Damn…that’s a lot of pressure.

On a superficial note, I LOVE real red-neck kids with thick accents who spell. Especially when they’re given long scientific work and spell real slow. I mean…who doesn’t love a country hick talkin’ out of his head?

Apparently, I have readers!! Unused to seeing any comments, it took me a few days to realize I had some. I didn’t realize that my subscribe button doesn’t work either. I tried messing with the HTML code, but I have no idea how HTML works. I just copy and paste. So bear with me until I can get a tech-savvy friend to fix that. Yay, for want-to-be-followers!

The Hungry Bookworm

2010-02-23T13:54:00.000-08:00

(not so) Recent discovery - I owe a TON of books. While I'm not certain of their collective weight, I would not be surprised if they weighed a literal ton.

[This is a snapshot of my bookshelves from my bed. The left shelf is non-fiction: college texts, literary anthologies, language resources, travel guides, magazines, and collections of my own print-outs, writings, miscellaneous whatevers. To the right, you'll see an alphabetized collection of fiction. Yes, I'm a nerd. Yearbooks, old journals/planners, and my Animorph collection are at the bottom.]

Recent revelation - I adore my books more than Average-Joe. For example, Joe doesn't have four books on his nightstand and two journals and a cross-word puzzle book. My co-workers at the pharm are baffled about my literary love. They read. They read, you know, Nicholas Sparks or mystery novels. But they only read one book at a time. What's the deal with reading more than one? Huh?! Is Cora trying to make the rest of us look bad?

No, I'm not. I look at books the way Joe looks at his lunch. Does he want Taco Bell, Zaxby's, or leftover pasta from last night? He can't eat at Subway every day, Monday through Friday, despite its mirage of options. He has to have some kind of variety!

Well, so do I! I can't read Taming of the Shrew every night before I go to bed. Don't get me wrong, I love Billy S. and his witty repartee via Katherine. But some nights I need the PB&J comfort food of books (Ella Enchanted) so that I can survive the next day. I'm on a French kick, but sometimes I'm curious about history (Marie Antoinette) and not culture (My Life in France). Other times, I need to write about my own life before I delve into one (or two or three) books to gain some inspiration and perspective. Think of it as snacking on popcorn and Twisters and Raisinettes while watching movies; you need a variety of taste and texture to appreciate the entire film experience.

You might have noticed (as I just have) my correlation of food and books. Well, I am writing from Panera - favorite haunt of my college years. : )

Plus, I read a chapter of Julia Childs' bio before I got on the web. C'est la vie! Bon appetit!

Mini-Update

2010-02-08T18:51:00.000-08:00

Here's a little teaser post...

* Yes, I am still alive and here in cyber-space. I stare at six different computers for 6 to 10 hours a day, so I rarely get on my laptop at home. Plus, the "chirping chihuahua" wants my undivided attention.

* Spelling Bee season is approaching. Welcome to Big Ma-T chaos and stress.

* The Girls are in heat. Which means every female in the Tallant house is hormonal and dangerous.

* I'm reapplying to law schools. Ugh! I'm afraid of rejection, but I'm more afraid of staying home for another year. Hello, Rock. Hello, Hard Place.

* I rediscovered boxes of Mom's vintage t-shirts. She had 4-H jerseys, band shirts, summer camp tees, and tons of concert shirts! And when I say concerts, I mean CONCERTS: Led Zephlin, AC/DC, Prince, Atlanta Rhythm Section, Queen, and that's only the ones I've found!

* I'm trying to restore my blog and writing regularly. Let's see if I can do it...

Itty Bitty Big

2010-01-08T11:44:00.001-08:00

Mr. Big's first paw-print in the snow. He hated it.

Go fetch!

2009-11-16T14:06:00.001-08:00

Real conversation at work:

Man "I'm picking up for John Doe"
Me "Here's your three perscriptions, sir"
Man "Good girl!"

Ummm...I am not a dog preforming tricks.

I'm Not Dead Yet...

2009-10-11T21:23:00.000-07:00

Sorry for the lack of updates.

As everyone knows, the only predictable thing about life is that it's unpredictable. The past two weeks of my life are a textbook example of this motto.

Perhaps I'll go into the details of "Hell Week: Part One and Two" at a later date. Right now, I have a very content Chihuahua snuggled next to my hip. I intended to continue our crate training lesson (which will evolve into sleeping in the crate for the entire night), but I lost the motivation. I have to be at work at 10AM. Yes, 10AM is not horrible by any means. In fact, 10AM is much more pleasant than 9AM or the ungodly 8AM. However, 10AM is sill in the AM which means it's too early for me. I'm also working until 8PM (ugh), so I really can't deal while a whining pup all night.

But back to my lack of updates...
You, faithful and nonexistent reader, might exclaim, "Hey!! You said you've been busy for two weeks, but you haven't posted anything since July! What's the deal?!"

Well, you would be justified in your indignation. I'm a slacker. I'm not giving you excuses for my absence. I don't really care for excuses from others, nor do I like using them for myself. So you're just going to have to deal.

I've been a bad blogger, but I'm trying to become better.

ugh...9 am is too early

2009-07-21T05:29:00.001-07:00

I need coffee to function when I have to wake up early. But, I need to wake up even earlier in order to make coffee. Vicious cycle...

just literary fluff

2009-07-19T15:55:00.001-07:00

I feel this way about _Twilight_; however, I can't put the stupid books down. I rereading _New Moon_ for no other reason than A) it's in paperback and B) the new movie is coming out soon.

Is it worth the time and effort? Not really. Am I growing intellectually or gaining anything from the experience? Certainly not.

But I'm tired when I get home from work. I want a fluffy-cotton-candy book to put me to sleep.

good morning

2009-07-16T12:37:00.001-07:00

Guess who i found in my bed this morning?

average day

2009-07-08T21:28:00.001-07:00

I don't have anything truly inspiring or life-altering to say today.

I woke up. Dozed for another hour and avoided actually moving from bed. Took Big downstairs to play with The Girls. Struggled the put earrings into my grown-over-getting-infected holes. Brought Big back upstairs. Made coffee. Ate a sandwich. Arrived at work four minutes late (not too bad).

Worked ten hours.

Highlight of my workday: British client came by and chatted! I was stocking drugs, so my back was turned to Mr. Brit. I'm so glad I wasn't waiting on him. I had the biggest, goofiest, school-girl-crush grin on my face. The man is middle-aged with a wife and teenage son. He's not physically attractive. But I lust after his accent nonetheless.

We had his prescription ready. "Jolly good!" he exclaimed.
We asked him about his vacation plans. "Goin' 'round to see his mates" back home.
He bid us "cheers, eh?" as he left.

....

I hope there is a secret club where all the ex-patriot British citizens go to hang out and keep their accents in tack. I hope I find said club and marry a nice British man in return for not divulging the club's secret location and existence.

...

Runner-up highlight : Eating three, fresh chocolate-covered doughnuts from Ingels. With some coffee. Felt guilty later but decided that sugary goodness helped deaden the pain of menstrual cramps and tired feet.

Must open pharmacy at 9 in the ungodly-morning. Ugh.

the graduate

2009-06-21T21:05:00.000-07:00

Today was my first day back at the pharmacy. At the beginning of the summer, I vowed I wouldn't work there again. Don't get me wrong - I like working at good ol' Kroger 473. I like the work; it's just monotonous enough for chatter but with enough new people to make the hours pass. I really like the people I work with (granted, some more than others). They've seen me grow up. They know what to expect of me, and I know what to expect from them. Working at the pharm feels like slipping on an old pair of jeans that you rediscovered in the back of the closet; they're comfortable with familiarity without being worn-out.

I just wanted something different this summer. I wanted to start fresh (something I'm really striving lately for but having difficulty achieving). Like I said, they've seen me grow up. I feel awkward when I make mistakes...because I made those same mistakes when I was 17. True, I make mistakes less frequently, but shouldn't I have learned by now? Sometimes I'm ten minutes late, but I'm not another part-time-teenager anymore.

I'm still a bit juvenile, naive, and bit of an airhead. And everyone knows how my ambitious college plans that fell through. They saw it all. For the past four years, they've heard of my changing majors, career plans, and how I was hell-bound to get out of this town.

Now I'm back. Right where I left off five years ago. Kinda discouraging and depressing.

The catalyst to this rant was a slight comment my boss made. Charlie is a Republican, retired military man, and a deacon at his Southern Baptist church. His wife cooks three meals for him every day. I expect his questions about my lackluster love life, my inability to cook (which must be the cause to the former topic), and my mother's ailing health. I understand that he is stuck in Leave it to Beaver-land, but I assumed he understood that I didn't belong with him.

He asked about these bracelets I've been wearing recently. I always wear a saints bracelet (I secretly wish I was Catholic sometimes), a friendship bracelet from my Lil, another yarn bracelet from Shorter friends, and a "wishing bead" bracelet. I wear them all on the same wrist. The look eclectic and slightly exotic. I like them. They make me feel hip, free-spirited, a little something unexpected on my otherwise predictable, plain appearance.

Charlie asked if the bracelets come off. Very nonchalant. Didn't tell me to take them off. Didn't say they looked unprofessional. But the comment burrowed in my head all day. I finally broke down and asked for Mom's opinion. I've taken them off...at least on days when I work.

I just feel a bit pressured to fit into a mold I'm not sure I ready for. I work at a pharmacy where I wear a baby blue smock. Heck, most of the techs and pharmacists wear Crocs, for goodness sake! A little yarn friendship bracelet doesn't scream "slacker", does it? I feel like everyone thinks I'm a slacker though; I'm a college graduate with no idea about her future. My life still revolves around semesters and summer breaks, not two-week paid vacations. I'm not ready to give up the Converse low-tops for sensible heels yet. I'm not ready to grow up quite yet...

college was a blur

2009-06-18T14:31:00.001-07:00

I've been out of school for a month now...can you believe it? So much has changed in such a short time...

When this picture was taken, I was eating at Panera. Kalor and I had just ended our "not-really-a-relationship-Thing". We spent the next few hours taking funny photos, eating a "break-up brownie", and pranking our friends with a break-up party. I may have been strapped for cash, but I wasn't worried; I knew Shorter owed me a paycheck in the following weeks. I was avoiding my senior thesis like the plague. I was avoiding applying to law/grad school like the plague strapped to an ACME rocket. I had an apartment-sized dorm room all to myself. I had a number of friends within a short walk and phone call. I never lacked in social activities to help me avoid senior thesis and/or grad school plagues. I kept my own crazy hours. I came and went as I pleased. I was a free woman.

Now, I eat whatever is at home because it's free. I'm single again. Actually, I'm happy, content, and relieved to be single again. I'm still strapped for cash, but I'm not worried; I was recently rehired as a pharmacy tech...with a raise! Working 40 hours a week means big checks with little time to spend them. I'm done with my thesis. I'm done with my applications. I'm waiting on my acceptance letter(s) which feels like awaiting medial tests to confirm that I have the plague after being hit with an ACME rocket. I'm back in my old bedroom although it feels a bit foreign. Friends are scattered about the state and have varying schedules; planning and travel are required to meet them. My current and constant society is my mother and three dogs; their main entertainment consists of sleeping, watching TV, sitting on the couch, and eating. I have to be quiet after 1am (including walking about, radio, TV, and talking in general). I must inform parental units of my intended travel plans and should not stay out "too late" (a term loosely defined by the dogs' bedtimes). I am now shackled and bound to a spoiled chihuahua. He depends on me for his food, medical attention, and comfort; if I cannot attend to him, a caregiver (aka my mother) must take care of his needs while I'm gone. Said caregiver must also be compensated.

Life after college isn't any clearer than life during college. Some things are more focused while others have blurred around the edges. But I miss those fuzzy and frenzied times...

princess of quite a lot

2009-06-01T22:30:00.000-07:00

While purging the junk around my desk/computer area, I came across a relic from the past: Princess Maker 2. PM2 is a Japanese role-playing game similar to the Sims. I loved this game in middle school/early high school when I went through my anime stage. When I played, hours would fly by and suddenly I realized it was 3 AM. PM2 is seriously addicting. I had to put the illegally downloaded file away...until I found it eight years later.

Let the addiction begin again!

In PM2, you are a great hero who has saved the kingdom from an army of demons. Ten years after your great battle, the gods entrust you with the well-being of a little girl. You are to raise her and shield her from the evils of the world until her eighteenth birthday. At that time, her future happiness and livelihood will be revealed...

Did she become the queen (which is the ultimate goal of the game if you go by the title)

...or did she become the Queen of Darkness?!!

Yes, you too can live all of your hopes and dreams vicariously through your child! Some of the addicting aspects of this game is all the "careers" in which your precious angel can aspire. You can become Queen, Queen Consort (royalty by marriage), and a mirage of aristocratic positions. She can also become a writer, painter, dancer, farmer, magician, nun, mason (yup...stacking bricks for a living), or professional hero like her dear ol' dad. : )

Be careful when raising your daughter; one PMS tantrum or sucky after-school job can change the entire course of her life. For example, one of the statistics which determines your daughter's future is charisma. The prince won't marry a boring girl, now would he? The only way to raise charisma is by working at the bar, cabaret, or the sleazy bar (think thirteenth century Hooters).

Uh huh. You can send your fourteen-year-old daughter to work at a bar. Child-labor laws, any one?

You know the difference between becoming a Queen and becoming the Royal Concubine? ONE CHARISMA POINT! The Queen has 499 Charisma while the King's main squeeze has 500.

Your daughter's marriage is also dependant on your child-rearing skills. She can't marry the prince unless she meets him (duh). If your daughter is too popular and charismatic, lots of old, rich guys will try to buy her hand. She may meet a dragon (yeah...a dragon) who falls in love her; if she has low enough morals and you consent, she can marry the Dragon Prince! If you make her do too much housework with the butler, she'll marry him. But this isn't the creepiest possible scenario...

<-- Your daughter can marry YOU!!!!

Can you say Lolita?

It's a more common ending than you'd think.

I just finished raising my second daughter in a row. Her blood-type and zodiac sign caused her to be extremely rebellious; at the very least, she was on her way to becoming a Lady-in-Waiting until she rain away from home...four times. : / Whoops. She ended up marrying a wealthy merchant and becoming a famous painter. Her patron goddess said I was a "passable" father.

So...my new goal is to be a horrible father! Anyway, I think you have more fun when your goal is corruption.

I'm aiming for a bar wench or divorcee this time. : )

big plans for the summer

2009-05-28T16:18:00.000-07:00

I finally did it.

I finished my senior/honor thesis. I defended my work to my professors. I somehow turned in all of my late work and passed (miracle upon miracle). I moved everyone out of the dorms including myself. I graduated.

I've been home for almost two weeks now. What have I accomplished? A lot and nothing at all. I've unpacked several boxes which contained my life at Shorter. I had three boxes stuffed with books; please note that I had a floor-to-ceiling bookshelf at home which was full before these additions. I've purged my closet of clothes that I never wear. I've become used to having a small, seasonal closet at school which held the clothes I actually wear the most; my closet at home held the reject clothing that I might wear "someday". I've sorted through piles of reports, notes, mail, and random pieces of paper.

While all this cleaning and organizing was time-consuming and productive, I don't have much to show for all my work. I still need a summer job. I really need some cash flowing into my account! And I need to hear back from law/grad schools, so I can plan where I'm going in the fall (and in life). Add to my To-Do list those annoying errands like emission testing, doctor visits, etc., I feel like a bum!

But I deserve at least a two week break, right? I think so. I need to recharge and breathe a bit. I've experience a lot of change this year. I need some kind of reward.

So I bought myself a present...a dog!

I didn't intend to get a dog. I think impulsively buying an animal is irresponsible. If you look at my list of qualities for a perfect dog (yes, I have one), Mr. Big is so wrong. I wanted to be a responsible citizen by adopting an abandoned, older dog. I wanted a massive, slobbering mutt that I could go running with. Instead, I fell in love with a one pound, four ounce Chihuahua puppy. I swore that I'd never get a Paris Hilton-sorority-girl-pampered-pure breed.

Never say "never", huh?

Mr. Big brings laughter to my life. I marvel at his intelligence. I'm amazed how he can manipulate me to get what he wants (usually to be held). I love all of his little noises and facial expressions when he sleeps. And I chuckle at his funny walk, the way he pounces for toys, his funny ears, his yawn...

I'm in love...with a DOG.

I've gained a lot of responsibility by getting Big. I have to think about someone else for a change. I can't be a bum with an empty bank account because he depends on me to eat. I can't sleep in bed all day because someone has to clean up his mess, feed him, and walk him. I'm nervous about being a "mom", but I think this is the push I need to grow up some more.

He's the best present I've received and the biggest burden I've shouldered. And I couldn't be happier. : )

the seven month itch

2009-04-14T11:21:00.000-07:00

I'm back again. I swear that I'll write more over the summer. Not like anyone is listening or reads this blog...I'm making a promise to myself. Remember that writing itch? Well, it's still as active as ever.

I just wish I could channel that energy into productive essays, term papers, and homework. : (

My writing bug is wild and untamed. She only appears when the muses inspire and the fire ignites. She's very fickle as well. I can't force her to start working or bend to my will. The stars must align and the world must be at harmony for her to create anything productive. Maybe this summer I can train her and break her like a wild stallion. Correction: I don't want to break her spirit, but I don need her to have some self-discipline.

I think my writing bug is back because of all the chaos in my life. The economy is rocky. My future is uncertain. I have work piled up to my eyeballs. My mother is upset. My brother is ruining his life and making wretched his destiny. My dad's is not the man I hoped he'd be. My new relationship is waning. Too many transitions!

I'm not saying that my troubles are beyond anyone else; however, I am not a creature of change. When too many rocks of my foundation shift, I feel unbalanced and out of control. Control is a HUGE issue for me. I'm a control freak.

Thus...I write to express, investigate, analyze, and control my emotions. That's how I cope.

So...look forward to MANY more descriptions of my rocky life. I'll try to bring humor and sarcasm instead of whines and pity parties.

Until then, I'll attempt to round up the allusive writing bug and put her to work.

running from responsibility

2009-03-27T00:01:00.000-07:00

I really shouldn't be blogging. I've already started four entries, but I haven't finished one. I've started my senior thesis, but I'm slow at making progress (I never feel that my research is finished). I've made several drafts of a scholarship essay, but I have a serious case of writer's block. I have about five more mini-essays/responses that need my attention as well.

So what does Cora do when she's avoiding her laptop and responsibilities?

I run. While running is a normal hobby for some, I don't run like normal people. I run at 3am. I wait until everyone else is asleep. I wait until the world is completely silent. As my feet slap against the asphalt, I feel as if I'm the lone survivor of a nuclear holocaust. The only sounds I can hear is the pounding of my feet, my ragged breath, and techno beats from my iPod. A thin layer of clammy sweat clings to my neck as the cool, morning dew blows on my face. I can smell wet grass and leaking car fluids. A solitary bird sings for the pure joy of living.

At 3am, no one can see my awkwardness; I've been told by many critics that my stride is clumsy and that I appear to be in pain when I run. My thunder thighs quake and my face boils red. I huff and puff as I push up the hill. I'm not a gazelle when I run (and I doubt I even can aspire to such beauty). At best, I look like an aging St. Bernard on the fourth of July.

I have a love-hate relationship with running. I hate feeling like a bumbling oaf, but I love the delightful high you get afterwards. I can turn cartwheels (mentally and spiritually, at least) after a brisk, midnight job. I find that second wind to finish a paper. Or I run until my mind is quiet and body is tired so that I can get a restful sleep. I have no self-discipline, so I hate making myself run; however, I love how I can always rely on running as a stress-releaser.

I shouldn't be blogging, but I find inspiration from my musings. I shouldn't be searching for my Nikes, but running clears my head so I can focus on the tasks before me. I can only push myself so hard before I loose my drive to continue. I need inspiration to tackle the mountain of work in front of me. Maybe I'll find my muse on the damp road circling campus...

a little bit of me

2009-03-03T09:28:00.000-08:00

I created this blog in the summer of 2008; obviously, I have not put it to good use. Lately, I've felt the writing bug start to prickle under my skin. This viral bug is one that I wouldn't mind having for a while. :-) I haven't felt the need to write in a long, long time.

To begin a journal/blog, I always feel you need to understand more about the writer. Below is a simple survey that I stole from a friend on facebook. I'll try to update a similar survey time and again so that my readers (and myself) can see how I've changed. Enjoy!

[basic]
name - Cora
zodiac sign -virgo
Chinese sign - fire tiger
hometown - Cumming
height - 5'7"
blood type - A negative
hair -natural, but darkening, blonde
eyes -blue

[currently]
age -22
status - not at liberty to discuss
class - senior
major - history and political science
minor -english
GPA - 3.59
activities - Eta Pi Sigma, Residence Life Staff, Writing Center, Zeta Tau Alpha
residence - Cooper
reading - Wuthering Heights
listening - Phantom Planet "California"
ringtone - Jason Mraz "Did You Get My Message?"

[favorites]
book - Jane Eyre
author - Dorothy Parker
singer - Jason Mraz
band - The Beatles
song - Al Green "Let's Stay Together"
movie - Moulin Rouge!
TV show - Gilmore Girls
musical - Spring Awakening
drink - water
coffee - Venti Skinny Vanilla Iced Latte
food - Ru San's $1 sushi rolls
cereal - Life
trip - Costa Rica 2005
city - Boston
shoes - Kelly Green Converse low-tops
color - eggplant purple
perfume - Lovely by Sarah Jessica Parker