8 Things Meme.

Aw man, Erin tagged me to post 8 things meme. Holy crap, there aren't 8 things that are very interesting about me. Maybe, maybe I could squeeze out two. I crapped five out back in January, one of which I was going to use for this one until I'd realized I'd already used it, dammit. Anyways, here we go.

1) I love Mold A Ramas. This is probably because I grew up so very close to the Brookfield Zoo (seriously, you could hear the lion's roaring from my grandma's house).

Recently it was brought to my attention that some people don't even know what Mold A Ramas are. Once I'd picked all the pieces of brain back up from my head exploding at the notion that some people live in a world that is absent of Mold A Ramas, I compiled a quick little history:

Mold A Ramas are made with this crazy machine, that a guy from Phoenix invented in the mid-50's. You put your money in, polyethylene plastic shoots through tubes into a mold, and then is immediately cooled with cold air. Less than a minute later, you have a little cast of whatever the mold is.

So when the machines didn't really "take off," the Pheonix guy sold all of them to this guy from Chicago, Roy Ward, who installed the majority of them here in in and around this city - in the Brookfield Zoo, the Museum of Science and Industry, the Field Museum, as well as the Milwaukee Zoo in Milwaukee, a city we here in the Midwest affectionately call "Little Chicago." My dad worked at the Brookfield Zoo as a teenager, and among other things he did there (like force-feed penguins when the zookeepers went on strike...oh, the '60s), he filled the machines with plastic pellets. Also, this is totally unrelated, but Roy was the first guy to tell my dad, at 14, that he really shouldn't smoke. My dad finally listened, um, 30 years later. Way to go, Dad!



So I guess the Mold A Rama is pretty dear to my heart. This is only a bit of the collection, back at home I have dolphins, porpoises, the U-505 submarine....but the Mold A Rama I most covet is this. It used to be at the Museum of Science and Industry, but not anymore. I may have emailed the museum to find this out. Maybe. Bastards!

2) Lately, the plumbing in my bathroom has been completely jacked. Because Life kept on moving, even though my bathtub wouldn't drain, I got used to standing in about a foot of water after each shower. You know, we Humans, we adapt.

Things were getting a little out of control, though, like Steve and I having to shower on alternate days so we don't flood the tub, and having to spit out our toothpaste in the kitchen sink, three rooms away from the bathroom. I know, waaaaay too far. So I finally called my landlord, who has this old man friend of his who is a Miracleworker when it comes to all things handy. The heater that I spent the whole winter taking naps in front of? When it broke, Miracleworker Frank came and fixed it. So yesterday afternoon he came and sorted out the Situation in the Bathroom, and while he did, I shot this great photo of Moj putting his ball amongst Frank's tools, on the off-chance that Frank decided to take a break and toss a few:



3) Wisconsin is my favorite state. As you can tell, I go there quite often. However, on our last trip to the Land of Dairy, I came home with a wicked stomach flu. Monday morning, I got to work, then promptly left an hour later, with a declaration of, "I'm not sure if I need to throw up or go to the bathroom, but whichever one it is, I can't do it here."

Phew, it was awful. So right now, Wisconsin is dead to me. Well, until the end of August, when I go have to go back for a wedding. I'm sure the vision of cheese curds coming back up on me will be gone by then, so I can joyfully partake.

4) This sort of ties in with #3. Also, I can't believe I'm including this in a meme, but hey, I love you too much, Internet, to keep it from you:

I can't poop in public places. Just can't. I've tried, believe me I've tried, but it is just not to be. Do you know how awesome I think it would be if I could poop at work? Take a crap on the company's dime? That'd be totally awesome! But so far, no luck.

My parents' house, my sister's house, and wherever I happen to be living are the only three places I feel, umm, comfortable enough to let loose. However, when whereever I was living meant living with roommates, I used to train my bodily functions to only happen when I was about to get in the shower, so I could have the water running. I thought I was being totally discreet, until Jeffrey totally called me out on it after we'd spent a year living together. Jerk.

5) I'm in the middle of the last Harry Potter. Don't tell me anything.

6) I can get very bored at work. It's not that there isn't work to do, there is, it's just that it's secretarial work, and if there's one thing I'm not, it's a good secretary. So I pretty much wait until the last minute to finish stuff, and then run around like an insane person until it's done.

And the funny thing? I keep getting promoted to these higher and higher paying secretarial jobs. I don't know why! It's like I'm waiting for the day when I come in, and my boss will be waiting there to tell me the jig is up, that there's someone way more competent to take my place. And if that did ever happen, I'd probably just shrug my shoulders and say, "Yeah, you're probably right."

That said, I have been known to do some rather brash un-work related things while at the ol' office. Like, oh, for instance, THIS BLOG. Other non-work activities include:

- rampant text messaging,
- checking People's "news" and StarTracks photos EVERY DAY (Lindsay, Lindsay, what is going on? You're a Train Wreck!), and,
- taking naps in the locked medical record room when I'm supposed to be filing the afore-mentioned medical records.

My latest escapade, though, is certainly my coup de gras: I've been going through old classics that are available to read online (right now I'm two books into re-reading Jane Austen's oeuvre) by copying the text, and saving it as a Microsoft Word document, so it looks for the most part like I'm just reading any old document at my desk. It's terrible, I know, but I need to keep my brain active or I will go bat-shit insane.

7) Coming off of #6, most days I feel I really need to sit down and hammer out my Future Career Plan. Also, most days, I have a pang of guilt for "taking a break" right in the middle of my pursuit for a Master's degree in Education. That "break" has now been going on for over a year. But, you know, school is hard, man! I don't want to grow up. Especially when there are shows like "Heroes," "The Office," "Antiques Roadshow," and "History Detectives" on.

Also, I can barely keep up with my life as it is, without school! My apartment is in a constant state of disarray, I'm about three weeks behind when it comes to various projects around the house that I'd said I'd do....my life is still Sheer Madness, without the extra strain of school. Such Madness, in fact, that my goal for Fall of 2007 is to outsource most of my life. I already have movies and grocery shopping taken care of, now I just need to find a reliable cleaning lady.

8) I can't think of an 8th thing. Seriously. I can't. I'm really digging deep to end this list. Ah! Here's one: I once got bizzay with a guy who had three nipples and webbed feet! I didn't know about either affliction at the time, which is probably good, because I probably would have been totally disgusted. Although, it was high school, and I was starved for any attention from any boy, so I can't say with total certainty that I wouldn't have still made out with him.

I am tagging Beth, Jeffrey, Angela, Melissa, Jek, Sharyn, Bev, and Panajane. Bev, really, you don't have to do it if you don't want to, you have done so many of these on your blog over the years. Take a break if you need to! Oh, I'm also tagging Styro, because she's hilarious, and she left such a great comment about being thwarted with Erin's list of people to reply to her meme.

You know, ending these things with this call-out to all the Internet Peeps sort of reminds me of picking teams for kickball on the playground in grade school. Minus the inevitable big red rubber ball at the head in retaliation for picking a losing team, of course.