Bad Advertising

I mentioned yesterday that the shredding company managed to spill all their highly secure documents on the most windy day of the month so far. I wasn't lucky enough to grab a photo myself, but another guy at work snapped one that was far better than any I could have gotten from my viewpoint.

Enjoy!

You can't really see all of the papers that were flying around, but trust me. Not only was the back yard covered, but some even managed to blow up over the top of the building and land in the center of the pond on the other side. They didn't retrieve those. I suppose they were counting on the fact that ink mixed with water yields illegible documents.

So much for "secure document destruction," eh?

Beach Walking

Yesterday, I walked to the beach.

BECAUSE IT WAS 65 DEGREES!

It was beyond glorious. I saw a man in a convertible with his bike in the passenger seat like it was his pet dog. I saw a lady wearing a flowing, flowery shirt and a hat blasting rap music through her open car window. I saw some tweenage girls huddled in a clump on the sidewalk, discussing the significance (?) of who had the best shoes. I saw a man wearing a sweatshirt and a rainbow scarf wandering down the side of the road.

But the weirdest thing I saw happened when I got to the beach itself. A girl and her boyfriend were meandering slowly near the water's edge. Suddenly, a dog, no more than one foot off the ground, ran up to them.

And the girl started screaming.

Not cute* screaming. We're talking oh-my-gosh-I'm-about-to-get-murdered screaming. Screaming screaming. And she proceeded to run around her boyfriend in circles until the dog finally decided to give up its efforts to play.

Better yet, there were two other dogs on the beach that within a five-minute span had elicited the same reaction.

The dogs' owner passed me as I was walking by and we shared an incredulous smile.

People are funny sometimes.

*Note: I have never actually witnessed an event where screaming could be classified as "cute." But you get the gist?

Magical...historical performance?

In honor of the final installment of the Harry Potter film series, I present you with an orchestral recording of Monteverdi's L'Orfeo that anyone in the wizarding world would surely appreciate, due mostly to the presence of billowing robes.



Enjoy.

SURPRISE!!!

I'M ENGAGED!!!









Hahahahahahahahahahaha. Did I manage to fool you, or do you know me well enough to know that it's not even remotely close to a possibility at this point in my life? Basically, I have found the perfect method for eliminating awkward babysitting situations.

Let me elaborate.

Situation 1:

Stranger approaches Jillian accompanying small child in grocery store. Stranger comments on how cute small child is, asks how old, asks what preschool small child will be attending in the fall, assuming Jillian is the mother. Jillian responds with, "Oh yes, he'll be going to ____________ in the fall!" Stranger thinks Jillian is a very young, possibly teenage, unwed mother. Jillian feels uncomfortable with this conclusion and tries to get out of the situation as soon as possible.


Situation 2:

Stranger approaches Jillian accompanying small child in grocery store. Stranger comments on how cute small child is, asks how old, asks what preschool small child will be attending in the fall, assuming Jillian is the mother. Jillian responds with, "Oh, I'm just the babysitter." Stranger thinks he or she has made Jillian feel uncomfortable. Jillian thinks she has made stranger feel uncomfortable. Both back away from the other slowly.


TODAY, MY FRIENDS, THIS PROBLEM HAS BEEN SOLVED.


Situation 3:

Stranger approaches Jillian accompanying small child in grocery store. Stranger comments on how cute small child is, asks how old, asks what preschool small child will be attending in the fall, assuming Jillian is the mother. Jillian responds with, "Oh yes, he'll be going to ____________ in the fall!" Stranger thinks Jillian is a very young married mother, Jillian feels justified with her slightly deceptive $2.80 ring, while both stranger and Jillian walk away from situation awkwardness-free.


And there you have it.


P.S. The picture makes it look like the ring is on my right hand. It's actually on my left; Photobooth just flips pictures, and it looked weird to have it flipped back to normal. I do, in fact, know the difference between right and left.

Omnivorous Antipescetarian: Confirmed

I hate fish. Whoa.

Like the kind you eat, not the kind you keep in a bowl or a tank or whatever.

I had thought that maybe if I tried some again, maybe my last fish experience would have been long enough in the past that my taste buds would have matured and I would magically think that the taste and texture were the grandest things in the world. Unfortunately, that wasn't the case.

Last night, our choir had a very fancy end-of-the-year fête, including a gourmet meal with four courses: (hors d'oeuvres), soup, (palate cleanser), entrée, cheese, dessert. I took a lot of risks at this dinner. I ate both pea soup - the greenness of which has always perturbed me a bit - and foie gras. If you didn't know, that's made out of goose livers. Like I said...RISKS. (Good risks. As it turns out, pea soup is pretty tasty!)

But then came the salmon wrapped in bacon, covered with oyster sauce.

Dread came over me. What should I do? I resolved to try it. Be brave. Show the world that you are not intimidated by your food. It sat like a lump on my plate. Why is it so pink? I like red meat...but red fish? I cut off a large bite. No sample sizes here. Whole hog. I put the fish in my mouth and chewed. This texture is different then I imagined.

Then I tasted it.

Oh gosh. It's getting fishier...and fishier...and FISHIER! AHHHHH!!! IT'S LIKE EATING CAPE COD!!! QUICK! DRINK WATER! EAT BACON!! MUST. EVICT. FISH. FLAVOR. IMMEDIATELY.

At this point, I knew that I could not subject myself to eating another bite.

I know without a doubt that it was not the fish that was bad. Everyone around me was saying how splendid it was, how finely prepared, how flavorful, etc. I commend the cooks and servers for their top-notch cooking and serving. I wanted for nothing, and the evening was delightful. With the fish came green beans and mashed potatoes, which I ate with great appreciation and rapidity.

I did, however, discover that I really, really can't handle seafood. It seems to be anathema to me. Be forewarned, those of you who dine with me regularly.

Tales of Me & the Roommate

Meghanne is my eternal roommate. Ok, not LITERALLY eternal, but we've lived together for two years now, and we're cohabitating yet again for the summer. Who's to say we won't live together forever?


That nice picture is all fine and dandy, but it doesn't really sum up our relationship. Let me try again.


Ahh. Much, much better.

In any case, today I will tell you a story about me and Meghanne.

(Preface: Meghanne and I have a slight...affinty for weddings. Not our weddings. Just weddings in general.)

Setting: Wednesday night, junior year of college. 10 pm.

"Meghanne, we've had the longest day ever. I'm so, so tired. And yet, I don't want to go to bed yet," says Jillian. "I KNOW. LET'S GO TO THE GROCERY STORE AND GET WEDDING MAGAZINES AND WATCH THE WEDDING PLANNER!!!" replies Meghanne, all in verbal caps lock. Jillian finds this to be a brilliant idea. Generally, you wouldn't peg her as the let's-all-read-wedding-magazines-and-pick-our-engagement-rings kind of girl, but suddenly, the reading-wedding-magazines-and-watching-a-chick-flick part of Meghanne's plan seems to be the best plan in the entire world.

Jillian and Meghanne race to the grocery store. The clock on the dashboard reads 10:32. Luckily, Shaws is open until 11. Upon entering the store, they immediately recognize imminent danger: other Gordon students are grocery shopping! At risk of ruining their reputations as sensible people, they sneak to the magazine isle, and, disguising the incriminating material at the bottom of the basket by covering it discreetly with Ben and Jerry's ice cream, they make their way surreptitiously to the check out.

"Oooooh, are you getting married?" the check out lady asks politely and somewhat excitedly. Eyes on the conveyor belt, they reply in unison, "....noooo...." "Oh dear, I remember when I was your age. My girlfriends and I would get wedding magazines and watch girly movies while eating candy. It was so much fun. Is that what you're doing?"

Quickly, Meghanne comes up with an excuse to preserve our compromised feminine integrity. "My sister! (Sidenote: Meghanne is sister-less.) My sister is getting married and we're having a girly night with her and the rest of the bridesmaids and so we needed this magazine and the ice cream so that we could have our party and it's a surprise so we're getting it late tonight so there's no chance she'll be here."

The checkout lady may or may not have believed us. We will never know. What we do know is that we get safely back to campus, the magazine and ice cream double-bagged so that we won't be accused of being "typical Gordon girls" or "Ring-by-Spring fanatics."



Of course, by retelling this story, I've sort of already done that, haven't I?

Way cool 2.

Guess what! I have TWO brothers! Christopher is a pretty cool person too. These pictures are from awhile ago, but I have a video of him too so maybe I'll put that up later.

 

I think I'll get him to guest blog tomorrow.

Be excited.

Fotobooth Fun

Hello world!

I am writing today in order to explain a photo collage which apparently grows larger upon the commencement of one clicking somewhere on the surface of it. This collage came to be in existence because my sister, the notorious and infamous Jillian Griffin, who i'm sure is known for her blog posts throughout the interwebs, opened photobooth on her computer... Apparently the fun does not end after this outrageous photo taking program is running. We spent nearly an hour creating funny and inexplainable facial expressions as well as body gestures to entertain ourselves in the evening.

One would think that you would use effects to have the most fun, but that is not the case. Simply have an excellent time on good old normal mode and off to the races one goes. You see, I have found that there is not so much ingenuity or perplexity involved in the making and observing of photos that rely simply on the effect to make them funny, like having two faces and four arms. All you really need is to have the soft susurration of your imagination prompt you, within three seconds, to plaster onto your features an indelible moment of creativity that is now saved to less than one kilobyte of space on your hard drive. Congrats you've made a photo!

Well over the course of that one hour, I had a most excellent and bodacious adventure. *Bill and Ted fans insert laugh here* I hope that everyone who reads this blog tries out their own version of photobooth or crystaleye or whatever type of program you have so that they all can have as much fun as my sister and I did. I dare you to try it :)

K, Later all

(Jillian's brother, not v v v)

An Instrumentalist's Guide to the Wind Ensemble

It occurred to me this evening that a non-musician might have a hard time identifying with my more music-focused posts, so I've decided to give you the following: An Instrumentalist's Guide to the Wind Ensemble. Inspired, of course, by Benjamin Britten's "A Young Person's Guide to the Orchestra," which may be the only tonal thing Britten ever wrote.

[I feel it is appropriate here for me to mention how much I hate, loathe, detest, and/or abhor Britten's Metamophoses, which is a standard piece of oboe repertoire. Abnormal opinion: yes. Understandable opinion: abso-freakin'-lutely.]

So...for your education, a guide to the wind ensemble.


Instruction: "Please play from measures 24 - 58."

[The following are reactions elicited from various instruments.]

Flutes: OH MY GOOOOOOOOSH!! Our conductor is like, soooooo cute. Should we like, listen? Oh. By the way. I'm SO much better at playing fast notes than you are. Like, really. But seriously, he's like....heeheeheeheehee!

Oboes: Yes, sir. We will play those measures. Would you like them louder or softer? Where would be the best place to breathe? Can we tune again? Everything seems out of tune. We've noticed what you've been saying about the music, and, as oboists, we wish to continually strive for more perfect perfection.

Clarinets: Ok. [proceed to play, but no one can tell because it's too quiet.]

Saxophones: [blank stare.]

Horns: What's that? It's marked pianissimo? MAKE THAT TRIPLE FORTE.

Trumpets: I can play it better than YOU can. Yeah. Bring it. I'm principal.

Trombones: Oh, whatever. We still have five pages before we come in.

Tuba: TUUUUUUUU-BAAAAAAAAA. [plays low notes four octaves lower than written.]

Percussion: Dude....whaaaat? Music?

Conductor: I. AM. GOD.



So there you have it. Now you know everything there is to know about a wind ensemble, concert band, or your musician friends.

(Please note that this is all in jest. I love people from every instrument group.)

Word of the Day

I haven't decided if this is a going to become a daily thing. It might, simply because I like words rather a lot. Like...I read the dictionary when I was a sophomore in high school. I think that's a little late in the game for the reading-the-dictionary-is-cute phase of life, but I can't change the facts.


Here's an example. My binder for sophomore English was a bright lime green. For some reason I still remember that. The school library had a massive dictionary, and I thought it was cool, so I made it my goal to find one fantastic word that I didn't know starting with each letter of the alphabet.


Aposiopesis. n. def.: a sudden breaking
off in the midst of a sentence, as if from
inability or unwillingness to proceed.

Braw. adj. def.: fine or fine looking; excellent.


You get the point.


In any case...


I found a cool word today:

Schiamachy. n. def.: the practice of fighting an imaginary opponent.


I like it. I may keep this up.

Mislead.

Poo.



This evening I spontaneously decided to respond to this job ad where you write for a company that publishes articles online and you - the author - get paid for it. It was advertised as, "Blogger: part time, work from home." Sounds pretty ideal, if you ask me. Who wouldn't like to get paid for writing stuff he or she wanted to write about?

One of the possible topics was "Boston Easy Meals," and I thought to myself, "Behold! Thou dost enjoy feasting upon simple fare. Thou shouldst aspire to such greatness and glory! Thou shouldst put pen to paper and describe such a topic in great detail, as doing so wouldst aid thee in thy future."

Maybe I didn't think in quite such Shakespearian language.

But I would have liked to.

I digress.

I got almost all the way through the (fairly simple - why am I complaining?) application process until it asked for a writing sample. That seemed easy enough. I opened up a Word document, wrote approximately 200 - 300 words to meet the requirement, and went to go post it only to find the following directions:

"Please submit a writing sample here. No more than 300 words. No use of first person."

[Stunned (keyboard) silence here. My entire article is solidly in first person.]




So much for that. I thought it was pretty decent writing, too.

Paperwork!

I finished my secondary evidence binder today. My cooperating teacher decided to take a picture.

Recital Completion FOREVER!

Our apartment has gone through the recital process several times this year. It started with Diana's junior recital first semester. (Yes, it was during our senior year. Long, unnecessary story.)


Then was my senior recital.


After that was Meghanne's senior recital.


But today, we ran out of apartment recitals. Diana performed her senior recital, marking the last time any one of the the apartment members has to perform a required recital before we graduate.

As it turns out, singing lends itself to excellent facial expressions. Diana's are, of course, entirely realistic. Ours? Simply dramatic.

Face number 1:






Face number 2:






Face number 3:






Finally, in honor of singers everywhere, Meghanne, Michelle, Lauren, and I decided to show our most intense singing expressions of all time:





Wonderful, wonderful job, Diana! We love you!

Mary Potter? Harry Poppins?

Have you ever considered what would happen if Mary Poppins and the world of Harry Potter collided? I hadn't, until I came across this tale. Who knew that Hogwarts was responsible for such an esteemed literary, historical, and dearly beloved character! If you are a fan of either Harry Potter or Mary Poppins (with a heavier emphasis on the Harry Potter end of things), you should read it.

Lip Syncing

This kid really amuses me to no end, especially starting around 2:42.

Family Relations

Brother's earlier facebook status: "I am an uncle now :)"



...I'm beginning to wonder what happened to the baby that I have supposedly born. I must have amnesia.



(Actual story: my cousin and his wife just had a baby, which would make both brother and myself first cousins once removed. Jonathan has since been corrected. Congratulations to Trevor, Ashley, and baby Max!)



Jonathan's current facebook status: "I guess I'm not an uncle..."

An Ode to my Brothers...of sorts

I have pretty super brothers. They're quite handsome, wouldn't you agree?


(Christopher is the one right in the middle behind the other guys, and Jonathan is the second from the right. He can also be recognized as the kid who looks like me.)

They're awesome.

To prove it, here's a video that Jonathan made for Spanish class. It's hilarious, and I've watched it probably 20 times now. (It's a little blurry here, probably because I made it bigger than it's supposed to be. Oh well.)



Here's to you, Johann, for making the best Spanish video ever, rivaled only by our now-lost French video made several years ago involving a horror story: death by vengeful squirrel. (If we ever find it, have no fear, it will be here too.)

Lauren's Birthday!

Lauren M. lives about an hour and a half away from Gordon, which gave Diana, Meghanne, Michelle, and I a nice car ride in which to be ridiculous. I mean, heck, what else do we ever do?

Here, Diana and I decided to be Sherlock Holmes and Watson. I think I was Watson...


We took one wrong turn on our way that led us to a warehouse that apparently had something to do with either new or used cars - couldn't figure out exactly what - but we found a Mini with the Union Jack on the back of the mirror. I think I want it.


Once there, there were, of course, the obligatory and yet much-loved roomie pictures:



...and then things got a little weirder.




(Scenario: "Jillian, you just found out that Matt Damon is your father." I'm trying to remember why I was so excited...)


(Scenario: "Jillian and Lauren O. are planning a camping trip for Meghanne, but she doesn't know about it.)


(Scenario: "You just found out chocolate has been made illegal." I find our reactions very accurate.)


(No scenario; just really good carrot cake.)

And finally, this was the whole group!


Happy birthday, Lauren!

Super Bowl?

Normally, the highlight and perhaps only benefit of watching the Super Bowl every year (for me, at least) is watching the commercials. I liked this one in particular:




And I also thought this one was kinda funny, especially with the re-orchestration of the 1812 Overture:




But honestly, I would be remiss if I neglected the absolute BEST part of the Super Bowl this year:



That's right. Christina Aguilera sang the wrong words to the national anthem. I love American pop culture.

(Which is why we spent most of the Super Bowl time frame listening to recordings of church music, sorting sheet music, and singing the Te Deum. We're cool kids.)

Perilous Parking

While it is true that parking becomes somewhat hazardous when the snowbanks are significantly taller than the average person's head, it probably shouldn't be excuse for bad driving manners. This afternoon, Meghanne, Jon, Diana, and I decided to go shopping. We pulled into the North Shore Mall, drove into a parking spot, and adjusted so that we were between the half-obscured-by-slush white lines. While we were getting out of the car - mind you, this is a Volkswagen Beetle - a lady in an SUV drives up behind us and says, "HEY! What do you think you're doing?!?" We must have looked shocked, because she went on to yell, "Can't you SEE that you're taking up, like, THREE spaces?!??"

We looked at her. Then we looked at Meghanne's little car that was very obviously in only one parking spot. Then we looked back at her and said something to the effect of, "Uhhh.....we're definitely only taking up one." She neglected to respond and drove off in a huff.

When we returned to the car after our shopping expedition involving free chocolate (among other things), we found her large SUV parked in the spot immediately adjacent to ours, with lots of room to spare on either side. People are funny sometimes.