Wednesday, June 30, 2010

Careful, I May Be Editing Your Writing!

I couldn't count how many times people tell me they get nervous to write me e-mails because they think I'm editing their writing and judging them.

Here's the thing: Now that I am a professional editor, I do look at all the words I see with an editor's eye. I have always paid attention to the rules of grammar and punctuation, but now that I am required to pay attention to those things, it has become a habit. I like to think it's what happens with all professions. That is, for example, a hair stylist notices good or bad hair everywhere he goes; an animator could appreciate or criticize the computer graphics of a movie; a musician pays special attention to the sound quality of music; and a scientist recognizes the problems and inaccuracies of pseudo research.

I am trained to edit everything: cereal boxes, road signs, billboards, ads, Web sites, and yes, even e-mails.

So do I notice your misspellings? Your misuse of commas? Improper formatting? Yes, yes, and yes.

Do I judge you? NO!* Even editors need editors! I make mistakes, too! Also, the fact that I don't use red pens to edit should be a dead giveaway to my nonjudgmental editing nature.

So send me e-mails! Leave comments on my blog! Write a text or two! I won't think you're an idiot, if you accidentally type "their" instead of "they're."


*There are, in fact, times when I have judged people by their writing. It's when the writing is particularly egregious and especially when it's something from a guy I'm dating. :/


Thing I'm thankful for: ceiling fans!

Tuesday, June 29, 2010

Last Meal

I feel like I'm so serious lately. All I ever think to blog about has to do with weighty issues . . . So to put a break on that, I'm posting on a topic near and dear to my heart: food.

Recently, MSN.com featured an article about famous criminals' last meals, and I thought about what mine would be. I knew that my meal would be standard American fare -- what can I say? I'm a true product of the U.S.A. But which meal to choose? Yummy breakfast foods like pancakes, French toast, sausage, fruit, and a tall glass of cold milk? OR a Thanksgiving spread: turkey, stuffing, corn, green beans, rolls, cranberry sauce, sweet potatoes with brown sugar sauce, and pumpkin pie?

Essentially, I had to choose between breakfast and dinner. Sweet and fruity or savory and full of vegetables? Hmmmm . . . Tough call.

I'm going to say the Thanksgiving meal, though. It is most assuredly my favorite food. I could eat it year round and not get tired of it. Really and truly. Maybe I'll experiment on that next year . . . :)

Readers, what would be your last meal? Do tell.


Thing I'm thankful for: prayer.

Wednesday, June 23, 2010

Amen to that!

Here's an article I saw on msn.com today:
19 Things You Should Never Say to a Single Person.

What a list! Numbers 1 and 3 are the things I hear most often:
  • It happens when you're not looking.
  • So, why are you single?
In my family and social circle, though, this is how those statements are phrased:
  • You just have to be a "don't-wanter."
  • You're great! Why are you still single?!?

Both statements are equally ridiculous. I've discussed the second point before (See Emotion Explosion.). Honestly, I think I could have a lot of fun with this one. I should start saying things like, "Because I have a tail" or something equally fantastical. :)

I won't spend much time discussing the first statement, except to quote the explanation from the article: "This is just bull. Some people find people when they're looking; some don't." Good point. Nice logic.

Anyway, it's a funny article, and if you're single, you should especially read it because it's nice to know that other single people get these comments frequently and are also irritated by them. Single people, UNITE!!! :)


Thing I'm thankful for: my parents. They are two of my favorite people.

Thursday, June 17, 2010

The Stars at Night Are Big and Bright!


Deep in the heart of Texas!

That's how the song goes, anyway, right? That's the only thing I remember from "Pee Wee's Big Adventure." And I guess it's true; I'm from the South Central United States -- Oklahoma, remember? The skies are big, and the stars are bright. Thunderstorms are spectacular.

But why should I care about Texas?

Because after 18 years of living in Georgia, my parents are moving there; that's why. My dad got a new job at Texas A&M at San Antonio. Am I excited for them? Sure. I think it's a change my parents need. I am sad, though, to see them leave everything in Georgia behind. The house they live in now is the house I lived in for the majority of my life. Our cat Forrest is buried in the hill in the backyard. My mom and I laid the tile in the kitchen counter. My second oldest sister was married in the family room. Lexi and I camped out on the back deck with the kittens once.

It's amazing to me how attached we get to things. Humans have such a way of creating meaning and associating positive and negative emotions to inanimate objects. I don't think it's such a bad thing, but it is curious. Does it really matter, for example, that I will only spend a couple more nights in that house? I guess it doesn't. But hearing my mom talk about packing things up and throwing things out makes me sad.

Will my parents always be in San Antonio now?

One thing's for sure, Texas is the new home base. It's so strange to me. Texas. Tex-as. It just sounds weird.

BUT! You better believe I'll be visiting my parents in San Antonio and driving the four hours it takes to get to the Dallas-Ft. Worth area for Braum's hamburgers and chocolate milkshakes! My momma didn't raise no fool! :)


Thing I'm thankful for: prayer and guidance from Heavenly Father.

Tuesday, June 15, 2010

Pet Peeve No. 1


I don't know if I've ever directly posted about a pet peeve on my blog. Sure, after reading a post, you can tell whether I'm raving or ranting, but I don't know if I've ever said anything like, "This is something I don't like. Period." And please, readers, correct me if I'm wrong; I won't take it personally.

So. I realize I may be stepping on some toes here, but I'm just going to come out and say it: I don't like when girls complain about wedding planning. In the last few months, two girls I know have complained about how stressful it is and how they've never been so stressed in their entire lives.

Hell-OOO! If wedding planning is so taxing, then don't do it. Plan something small, or seriously consider eloping. I understand that it can be draining because it's expensive, and everyone has to give their opinion about what they think should or shouldn't happen.

But think about it: If you're so stressed about planning a wedding, maybe you're focused on the wrong thing. I know, I know -- I'm not married and have never had to plan a wedding, but I really do feel that I'm old enough in age and maturity to appreciate the fact that a wedding is about GETTING MARRIED TO THE PERSON YOU LOVE THE MOST EVER. I don't have that. That has never been an option for me up to this point in my life. It would be a dream come true if a man I loved wanted to marry me forever.

That brings me to this: If I ever complain about wedding planning when or if I have to do it, somebody please slap me in the face!


Thing I'm thankful for: taking a walk with friends. It makes exercising fun!

Thursday, June 10, 2010

Earrings!

On March 15, 2010, I wrote a post entitled Never Have I Ever . . . You may recall that up to that point in my life, I had never pierced my ears. Well, never WILL I ever be able to say that again!

I got my ears pierced!


I waited a couple of weeks before I actually did it, and it really wasn't a simple process. Let me explain:


Phase 1: Uneven

It was March 27th. A Saturday. I had been running errands all morning. One of the errands was to a nearby mall, where I walked into Claire's to look at the earrings. "I'll come back," I thought, and I kept envisioning me with earrings as I completed my other errands. Finally -- in the afternoon, just as I was leaving Trader Joe's -- I thought, "That's it. I'm gonna do it." So I drove home, dropped off my groceries, and back to the mall I went.

I picked out the largest fake diamond studs the Claire's piercing gun would allow, and with a sharp prick in both lobes, it was finished. I didn't flinch at all. My ear lobes were bright red and throbbing. As I paid for the deed and subsequently walked away, all I could think was, "I wish I hadn't done that." It felt weird to have these odd things in my ears. Why or when did anyone ever begin to pierce ears? Why had I done this to myself?

When I got home, though, my roommates said they liked them, and that made me feel a little better. But to my horror, I looked in the mirror and discovered that my left piercing was a little low. Well, I thought it was a lot low, but my roommates assured me that they looked fine, and I was being ridiculous.

And that's what I heard for a week: that I was being ridiculous and that they weren't as off as I thought. "No one will ever notice," people would tell me. "I can't even tell," they'd say. But I could. Every time I looked in the mirror, I saw the mistake.

So I took my earrings out to let the holes close up. (It's truly amazing how quickly piercings heal!) After a week, I decided to do things the right way and get my ears pierced by a professional, sans gun.


Phase 2: Relief

That is how I found myself in Psycho Tattoo. Because everyone was so shocked and horrified that I got my ears pierced alone the first time (I am 28, after all.), I took my friend Michele. (Thanks, Michele!) She waited patiently as I checked and re-checked the black marks the piercer put on my ear before she put the needles through. Here is what I loved about Psycho Tattoo:
  • The piercer at Psycho Tattoo could tell by the first scar that my left piercing was too low! I knew I was right!
  • I didn't feel rushed to tell the piercer the black marks were in the right spot. She let me take my time to make sure they were right where I wanted them to be.
  • I had my own room -- no busy mall crowds watching and waiting to get their ears hurriedly pierced.
  • The piercer used needles -- not a gun with sharpened earring posts as the piercer.
  • My ear lobes weren't red for the rest of the day. To be sure, the piercing hurt the second time around, but not nearly as long.
As a result of the comfortable and patient atmosphere of Psycho Tattoo, my piercings are a lot better. They are more even now. They are not perfect, as my ear lobes are slightly asymmetrical, but they are good enough for me now.

And so, after about a month and a half of wearing ugly temporary earrings, I can now wear whatever I want! And lemme tell you, I love earrings! Getting my ears pierced was one of the best decisions I've ever made! (I wish all decisions felt like this!)

A few weeks ago, I bought several pairs of earrings on sale! Large pink pearl studs; regular pearl studs; big, thin hoops (but not too big); small, thick hoops; and chandelier earrings. My sister makes jewelry, and she gave me a pretty pair of purple dangly earrings.

I LOVE earrings!



Thing I'm thankful for: going with my gut on this one. I just knew I'd feel better if I got my ears re-pierced. Those pros know what they're doing!

Busy Nothings: Best of 2009

Okay, Okay. I realize this is a little late, but although I wouldn't say I blog regularly, I do still keep this blog up. And it's been five years. Here's what I blogged about during the fifth year:

Christmas was Different This Year
What I Want in a Husband
Happy Halloween!
Paul Offit is My Hero
Emotion Explosion!
End of an Era
Far and Away: Goodbye to a Roommate
We Got Soaked Together, Or the Unifying Power of Adversity
Nashville!
Strange Things in Nashville
Not Just a Hunch Anymore
Photo Booths
Why I Would Make a Good Wife: Reason No. 532
A Letter to Soap
This Video Brings Me Joy
Time Travel to 1989
To Read or Not to Read?
Happy Valentine's Day!
2009 Resolutions


Thing I'm thankful for: that some of you are still here. Thanks for reading! (It really does mean a lot!)

Wednesday, June 09, 2010

Call Me Google

I work in downtown Atlanta. When I am walking to or from my office building, people often stop and ask me for directions. Usually, they are in their cars and roll down their windows as they pull up to the sidewalk and hail my attention. Sometimes it happens at lunchtime, when I'm walking around Centennial Olympic Park or The Georgia Aquarium.

I've worked downtown for long enough that it's rare for me to not know where the person is headed. I like that. I like being able to give people directions, especially when they're women, and they have frantic looks on their faces. I smile and think, "Yeah, one-way streets are the pits. I'm glad I can get around the ninth largest metropolitan area in the country."

Yet I wonder. Why do people ask me for directions? Do I look especially knowledgeable? Do I look like I know where I'm going because I walk fast or with a sense of purpose? Maybe I just look friendly? Take a look at my profile picture to the left of the page. Do I look like a street-savvy girl to you? I submit to you that I do not. Why, then, do people often approach me with directional questions? I don't mind it, of course, but it is strange to me.


Thing I'm thankful for: breakfast. There's really nothing quite like Shredded Wheat Vanilla Almond in the morning.