Posted by: tlnemethy | February 16, 2014

The Perks of Being Settled

Now that my feet are pretty firmly grounded in Ohio, I’ve been spending most of my free time (boredom) thinking of ways to spend money that I don’t want to spend. There’s the season pass to the zoo/aquarium that could save me from spending too many weekends just merging into the fabric of my blue chair. I love zoos. This one isn’t too big, but it has all the perks I love. I went this weekend and saw a bunch of animals, of course there were some that were still too cold to be in the exhibits just yet, but overall it was a great day.

I wasn’t wearing the warmest clothes; one of the many faults I have when it comes to first seeing sunshine after a decent winter. My hands got pretty cold, even though I was wearing my driving gloves. 1621715_10151877621425683_553570663_nNote to self: driving gloves are stylishly leather, but realistically can’t keep you warm like they do while still on the cows. The monstrous snowstorms of last week seemed to miss Dublin, landing us with only a few inches, but that still meant the crazies of Ohio were out in droves. The snow had mostly melted off the hardtop of the parking lots, but still the zoo lot looked like a mass chaos scene from a zombie movie. This guy had some gumption leaving his car in the lot like this. But I guess those balls were quite prevalent this weekend.

After the zoo, I spent some serious time online thinking of ways to spend some more cash. There’s the fact that my apartment hasIMG_20140104_081203626 no furniture, meaning I browsed Craigslist and random furniture stores trying to make it look more lively and I guess less creepy. Not gonna lie, Craigslist weirds me out. There’s the fear of buying something that could drag bedbugs or weird germs into my apartment, and if you get beyond that there’s always the fear of wandering into some stranger’s house. I don’t necessarily like scary movies, but I’ve seen enough to know when the audience is shouting, “don’t go in there!” To me, Craigslist and horror go hand-in-hand.

Then there’s my ongoing infatuation with creeping on the Franklin County Dog Shelter. Some people enjoy food porn, maybe even regular porn, but I love puppy porn. Looking at those adorable faces makes me so happy. It would only be better if I could go to a website and see pictures of my Cheyenne. But instead, I guess I’ll just stick with the entire folder of pics I snapped at Christmas. There’s nothing as uplifting as seeing a furry faced critter when you really needed a pick-me-up. Instant win.

This free time is also leading me to think of taking up hobbies. I always wanted to be a ham radio operator, even since I found out that it has nothing to do with ham,  and I have enough space in my apartment to fit equipment because it’s currently empty anyways. Also, I would be a hot commodity when/if the zombie apocalypse goes down or cell towers are rendered obsolete. There’s also the hobby of knitting or crocheting, maybe quilting. Those are pretty useful skills too. Warm skills. One day I’ll have a sweet hobby to keep me busy so I don’t have to research ways to spend money.

Leave a Comment

Posted in Dublin Or Bust: Information Developer | Tags: , , , ,

Posted by: tlnemethy | February 9, 2014

The Dilemma of Wilderness

Green grass and no plans lure me closer than they ever have. I think they sense something in an individual, something that lends an ear to the whispers we all let out when we think no one is around. The small endearing murmurs we whisper to ourselves. Everyone does it. They are incongruous and unrealistic, but they still quell something inside of us that shudders too often at where we have stationed ourselves. Because we stand in the mud.

The drought we’d been in for the longest time starts to let the drops into the cracked earth and heal. We tilt our head and raise our eyes, boldly staring at the cascading rain, challenging.

We don’t realize that as we stand there and relish in the sweet plenty of water that we are slowly pressing further into the laden earth. High heels suddenly aren’t high any more, dress shoes sink in without a single protest, the slick treated leather cutting right through the mire.

Only when the cold seeps in over our ankles do we get even the slightest twinge of dawning. But it doesn’t matter. Now you’re clearing the droplets from your glasses with a hidden undershirt, knowing deep inside that only works the first few times. Soon you’ll be soaked through. Squinting through a fog of debilitating life. Sopping with what you thought you needed.

But now you miss the thirst you once had. You miss the desire to do something, anything. You miss overcoming on your own.

The cracked earth around you is no longer empty and the natural infrastructure is moving with the currents of the collected rain. Some rivers rush so quickly that the red soil crumbles and smoothes in on itself as it circles your feet.

You find yourself looking down now, for the first time really seeing the earth that is swallowing you. It doesn’t look so bad. You’re only in up to your calves. The cold feels refreshing against your skin. You smile and shift around, acting like a kid at the beach when the water’s edge slowly buries your feet in the sand. But your shifting does nothing. A crease furrows on your brow as you glance down again. Only the slightest ripple shows you’re even attempting to move. The mud doesn’t even protest with its sloppy grunts. It has you.

The refreshing chill against your skin now turns to pinpricks. Teeth chattering, you look up into the raincloud and realize you waited too long.

1 Comment

Posted in Dublin Or Bust: Information Developer | Tags: , , ,

Posted by: tlnemethy | February 5, 2014

Tells

I like to think of myself as a suave individual; a master of the charming and witty repartee that keeps people interested in my mystery. I’m not. My poker face is nonexistent. Sure, charm I can muster up when needed, but mystery… that isn’t quite so quick to my grasp. My face shows emotion more readily than a stage dramatist, and I don’t have to wear the extreme makeup to project it. It’s just there.

If I’ve picked up on some of my own tells you can bet there are a bunch more that I’ve yet to realize. It isn’t anything as dramatic as crying tears of blood like that Bond villain, but still. Every time I find myself drifting off topic in my cubicle, perhaps browsing a NYT article or slumming it with Buzzfeed, I inhale deeply at the sound of approaching footsteps.

Maybe it started out because I’m wearing headphones most of the time and actually do get a bit startled when I realize the footsteps are just outside my cubicle. Maybe I just don’t breath when I take quizzes on what type of sandwich I am. Sad bologna if you were wondering. Yes, the quiz literally told me I was a sad bologna. Not only is bologna the most depressing of the lunch meat family, but I am the saddest of the sad. The picture had a bite taken out of the sandwich. I’m not even a whole sad bologna. Way to hit me when I’m down Buzzfeed.

It could be a touch of OCD though. Without fail, the breath gets sharply taken in. Just like the way I organize the cards I was dealt. Always in order. Always numerically organized through point value. Sure, depending on the game I’ll arrange them highest to lowest or vice versa, but if you play with me for a few hands you’ll be able to figure me out. There go my days of hustling people.

I touch my face, snort, blink erratically, or even smile. Open book. But I guess the real mystery of me is in what I’m an open book about. My mind wanders. You see me smiling down at my handful of cards and think I’m plotting something or I’ve got a great hand. I ‘m really thinking about a joke I heard in third grade. It happens more than you’d think. I touch my face but really I’m just checking to make sure I’m wearing my glasses. Sometimes I unconsciously push them back on my nose when I’m wearing contact lenses. It’s odd, but isn’t mystery odd?

My quirks are mysterious. I wouldn’t go as far as to say I could be a Bond villain, in fact I wouldn’t even say that I could dupe an above average toddler, but I might not be projecting what you think I am.

Leave a Comment

Posted in Dublin Or Bust: Information Developer

« Newer Posts - Older Posts »

Categories