Friday, January 30, 2009

Explication of this blog's title

Those who know me well know that I have a deep and abiding love of cliches. I adore them. They fill me with glee. Because of my love for them, I often peruse this Web site,, which helpfully provides a Cliche Finder tool. Let's explore it together, shall we?

Since I am very fond of "leg" cliches (don't ask why, because I don't know. I'm odd.), I typed "leg" into the Cliche Finder tool. Here's the list that came up (minus the words that have the phrase "leg" in them, such as "legion" and "legislate"):

went off with his tail between his legs
put on his pants one leg at a time
pull his leg
doesn't have a leg to stand on
on his last legs
he has a hollow leg
get a leg up on
Busier than a one-legged man at an ass kicking contest
He was on that like a pack of dogs on a three-legged cat.
I've seen better looking legs on a table.
Busier than a three legged cat in a dry sand box.
shake a leg
pull my leg
He can talk the leg off a chair
her legs go clear up
busy as a one legged man at an ass kicking contest
Break a leg.
Crooked as a dog's hind leg
Break a leg!

Now let's see how long--and coherent--a sentence I can make using leg cliches.

Let's shake a leg so we can get a leg up on the last leg of our journey; the road we're coming up to is as crooked as a dog's hind leg, and we're on our last legs because the car is almost out of gas.

Wow. I must be really bored.

Great article on Obama and the White House

Seriously worth the read.

Ode to the Facebook status

I've always been amused by--yet appreciated--the third-person construction of the Facebook status update. It makes it somehow easier for me to be descriptive about what I've been up to, as if the Facebook Jess B. is some fictional woman with a fabulous life who doesn't mind occasionally gracing her friends with a casual description of the wonderful things she's been doing. It also seems a bit schizophrenic, however (see the previous sentence--it's a bit schizo, no?)

For those unfamiliar with Facebook, and thus the status construction I'm referring to, here are a few examples taken from my friends' pages. I've shortened the names to initials for privacy reasons (then again, if you're on Facebook to begin with, you must be OK with a certain amount of scrutiny):

A.B. is so tired...she didn't sleep well at all.

M.R. can't give up on the past because the past never ends.
(Er, a little dramatic, M.R.?...)

And some people blatantly ignore the suggested construction completely. For example:

L.B. Good Morning :)))))))))

Y.K. OK after the ice storm do you think we will ever learn to be calm on the road?

I prefer to stick with the guidelines that the Facebook powers-that-be have suggested.

I also wanted to share in this blog post where I'm at today, and in the spirit of things, I'll do it the Facebook way.

Jess B.: happy the sun was already rising when she woke up at 6:30 today. wearing a skirt and her red heart necklace (and nothing else!).
...has a headache for no reason.
...wonders why she's always ravenously thirsty when she wakes up in the morning.
...has caught the 8:15 bus to Lexington from Alewife for four days in a row and is proud of herself (and thanks the red line) for doing so. nervous (but slightly excited) about the trip to Bethesda next week.
...had a dream last night that she was in a restaurant, and the fire department showed up to evacuate us because the scientific lab next door was about to explode.
...saw someone she vaguely knows last night on the bus ride home from work; he was screaming obscenities and chugging out of a plastic vodka pint bottle. very excited it's Friday; it's been a long week.
...has a framed portrait of her cat by her desk at work and doesn't care who knows it. reading The Namesake by Jhumpa Lahiri; it's good, but I like her short-story collection better. ending this blog post now.

Thursday, January 29, 2009

Best store name ever

Store name: Master Bait & Tackle
Motto, apparently: "You Can't Beat Our Bait"


Virgin post.

So I've decided to create a blog. Again. Those who know me know how obsessed I am with the Internet, Facebook, and social networking sites of all sorts. I'm also slightly narcissistic and yet extremely self-critical, and I generally feel that sharing my feelings and thoughts via an online portal is helpful and somewhat necessary for my well-being. So this is my new blog.

I started my new job on Tuesday this week. The commute is much farther--to get to my previous job, I walked. I always enjoyed the walk--exiting the North End, past Christopher Columbus Park and the Aquarium, past the supremely elegant Boston Harbor Hotel with their stuffy doormen and limousine ladies, and over the bridge near the Barking Crab--and it only took 15 minutes, not long enough to be annoying but long enough for at least three songs on my iPod. I usually set my alarm for 7:30, hit the snooze at least four times, and got up a little past 8. As long as I left my house before 9, I could get there between 9 and 9:30.

Alas, the commute to my new job is not as short or sweet. In order to catch the 8:15 bus to Lexington from Alewife, I need to rise at 6:30 (6:40 at the latest), leave my house by 7:25, hop on the T at Haymarket, switch to the red line at Park St., and take that to Alewife. I have made the bus for the past three days, but on my way to Alewife I am constantly worried that the T will break down, stop unexpectedly, etc., and I will miss the bus. I am trying to "let go and let God," but it's hard for me. For my whole life up till now, I have enjoyed worrying, relished it, and it's hard to let that habit die.

The job itself seems great. The people are friendly, my workspace is nice, and there are free snacks and coffee in the kitchen. (Hurray!) I'm flying to Bethesda on Monday morning at 7 am (which will require me to get up at the ungodly hour of 4:30 am *gasp*) for a week of training. I will enjoy the perks (free hotel and meals), and it will be great to meet the people I'll be working with, but change of any sort terrifies me, so I am naturally anxious. Again, I'm doing my best to let go and let God. But doing so goes against every natural instinct I have. Progress, not perfection, however.