mysecondcupofcoffee


Category Archive

The following is a list of all entries from the WTF? category.

Because It Mattered

John Green once said that “it hurts because it mattered.”

He’s right. There are things – songs, words, moments, books, etc. – that hit you and hurt. They steal part of your soul and refuse to give it back. But you don’t want it back because that feeling of being stretched is a rush … a painful crackling rush that keeps you wanting to live.


Frozen Melted My Heart

Allow me to gush for a moment as “Frozen” may be one of the cutest films I have seen in all of 2013. It’s up there with non-2013 films such as “Tangled” and “Brave.” It’s a delight!

OK, gush-fest over. Now down to business.

“Frozen” … Was it predictable? Yes. Was that OK? Yes. With all the bad in the world today, it is nice every once in a while to sit and enjoy a movie that is cheesy and cliche and just plain fun! It’s also got some great little life lessons – yes, I’m serious. And (don’t worry, I’m not going to give away the ending or anything) but it does have a delightful twist at the end that made me smile and think “ah, way to go Disney.”

The short at the beginning was entertaining, though you instantly forget about it once the movie actually starts and you are transported to another place.

Yes, there are flaws in the storyline and yes, there were pieces to the story that I wish they would have connected in a more complete fashion. BUUUUUUUT, the characters are perfect and lovable and the music is catchy (seriously, I have seen the movie once and one of the tunes is still dancing through my head) and smile-worthy.

It’s a family must-see in my oh-so-humble opinion. If you don’t like it, your heart may or may not be made of stone, just sayin’.


Friends With Benefits Level: Expert

Let’s get really honest for a moment. Deanna Troi and William Riker are the best example of friends with benefits the modern world has ever seen. Need proof? Here you go…

Exhibit A:
I’ll admit that I’m a bit new to the Star Trek family, but I’m catching up quickly. As my husband and I trek through NextGen, I can’t help but laugh at the complete man-whore that is Riker. I really like his character (didn’t at first, but he grew on me), but he will do anything with the right parts. And the best part for Riker? Troi doesn’t seem to mind … AT ALL! She will willingly welcome back her Imzadi without batting an eye.

Exhibit B:
Geez, Riker is one lucky man! He doesn’t even have to keep his man-whore-ness a secret from Troi. SHE KNOWS! She seems him head off to his quarters with other humanoid women, and yet, she seems unfazed. As an empath, that has to be a bit disheartening.

Exhibit C:
The USS Enterprise is charged with seeking out new life and civilizations and all that jazz; maybe Riker feels it is his duty as first officer to make sure that all aliens they meet feel…er, welcomed? Yet, when it’s convenient, Riker and Troi couple as normal couples do.

See? Friends with benefits… like a boss! But hey, the two eventually end up married, so all’s well that ends well? Seriously though, if you can think of a better example of friends with benefits, please share.


Welcome to Day One

I have chalk dust under my nails. I guess that makes me a teacher? To be honest, I don’t know that I believe that yet. I only found out about this gig eight days ago. In that time, I was offered the job, had to turn down the job, the job was changed so that I could teach, and I wrote a syllabus. Now, it is exactly 21 minutes before my first class starts. That’s not enough time for me to work any additional information into my it’s-going-to-be-less-than-three-hours lesson, but it’s too long for me to just sit here in silence. Turn music on shuffle, bring up new word document and write. That seems to be my go-to.

Is there an adjunct professor handbook? I’m sure there is somewhere, but no one gave it to me yet, so I’ll just wing it. Since arriving on campus, I have filled out a plethora of paperwork, taken a nostalgic walk around campus, had a bite to eat at my favorite local eatery, arrived at my classroom far too early to be cool, and I have, in large friendly letters, written “BA/CO 213” on the board (in chalk) so students know that they are in the right place.

What have I not done? I’m so glad you asked… I have not printed out the course syllabus. I wrote it, but I didn’t print it. Why? Because that was one of the many things I forgot to ask the department chair about prior until right now. I also forgot to ask about the wi-fi password. I sincerely hope for my students’ sakes that that is all I forgot. I mean, to be fair, I can send the syllabus  to all of them shortly and they can print it for themselves. I’m saving trees this way! The slackers won’t print it because they don’t care about it and the over achievers will print it right away; they may even print a spare, just in case.

It is now 15 minutes until the start of my class and I have realized what else I forgot. A cup of coffee and/or a bottle of water. I’m sure I’ll regret that even more at about 8pm when we take a much needed break.

While I sit here and process just what the class might hold for me and my students, I’m also wondering what doors may open because of it. I have made it no secret that I would love to be a professor someday. Maybe this is the start of someday? 13 minutes. I expected to be more nervous. I’m not sure why I’m not, but I’m pleased about it. Maybe it is the avalanche of love and support texts and Facebook posts I have received in the last 30 minutes. Seriously, it’s been awesome. Apparently I have told many a friend about my desire to teach because people are coming out of the woodwork and telling me how awesome of a professor I’ll be.

Oh, another fun fact. This return to campus has been a delightful ego boost. Already I have been mistaken for a student twice and a duo of boys playing disc golf told me that they would have played better had I not walked by. Sigh… ah, youth. 10 minutes. It has also been a pleasant boost to my terrible memory. Without missing a beat, I remembered my student ID# and where the classroom was. If you know me pretty well, you know that my longterm memory leaves much to be desired.

8 minutes until… they have arrived.


Rickering

Rickering (click to watch the video!)

While scheduling/posting tweets, I stumbled across this gem of a video. It includes a Robin Williams/Kim Kardashian look-alike contest and a clip near the end about the new craze hitting the Trekkie world… #Rickering.


An Ode to Java

Oh bitter liquid that starts my day,
How lovely and smooth you are.
A dash of cream, you billow steam,
I drink you in the car.

Oh brown beverage that keeps me sane,
How tempting and rich you remain.
You fill my cup; you wake me up,
I would drink you on a train.

Oh addictive drink that has me enthralled,
Your absence hurts my head.
You have my soul; I’m out of control,
I guess I’ll stop when I’m dead.

Check out my Confessions of a Coffee Addict.


Sweet Dreams are Made of This?

I don’t sleep well. To combat this annoyance, I take melatonin. I was warned that taking this delightful little sleeping aid might have some sort of impact on my dreams. I have been taking this cylinder of sleep for almost eight months and haven’t noticed much (if any) changes to my dreams. Apparently, this drug was waiting until it could hit my dreams and freakify them in one fell swoop.

This was the course of my dream last night…

I was in your not-so-average jail. Crime? Unknown. This was the lowest budget jail … ever! The bars were PVC pipe and the locks (if you could call them locks) were some sort of rigged rope & pulley system that didn’t make any sense to me until I was escaping, but I’m getting ahead of myself. I had been in jail for about six months and all my fellow convicts were friends of mine. I won’t name any names, but every single person in jail with me was a friend or foe from college. You can just guess if you were there or not.

So, I’m in jail and I’m getting really lonely and missing my life before jail, so I decide to escape. Somehow (and I truly don’t know how), I got outside my cell and thought that it would be very wrong of me to leave all these other people in jail when I got out so easily, so I released everyone from the jail. Apparently there were no guards at this jail, because this process took me quite some time and I wasn’t very quite either.  

All free, we get outside the building and find ourselves at the base of a hill. The hill is part of my parent’s old property, but the house on the property on the top of the hill was my grandparent’s old house. Apparently this didn’t strike me as odd at all. All the jailbirds huddle together and decide that our odds of escape are better if we split up into groups of five. This was an odd thought since there was literally NO ONE around, but this was our battle plan nonetheless. We split into groups of five and my group, led by a ghost of my past, ran over to a line of trees separating one piece of property from the next. Apparently it also didn’t strike anyone as odd that the next piece of property looked identical to the one we had just left, as did the one beyond that and the one beyond that and the ones across the road… you get the picture.

We crouched amongst the trees in this little ravine area waiting, and I quote, “for the coast to clear.” I reiterate, there was NO ONE else in sight. *sigh* Anyways, we are huddled in this ravine when I look to my right and see … have you ever seen that famous Internet picture of the happy tree snake? … well, that’s what I saw. I didn’t move and neither did it. Then my eyes moved around and I saw that there wasn’t just one happy tree snake, oh no, I was crouched in a nest of them. Hundreds of happy tree snakes were just smiling up at me, bold as brass and calm as can be! I, however, was not as calm. I jumped up and took off running. My four fellow group members took off after me. Well, wouldn’t you know it, but the minute we left the shelter of the tree line, the once empty expanse of property was suddenly filled with people milling about and it started snowing Skittles. No joke. Oh, and Skittles hurt when they hit you on top of the head and are falling at a high velocity. Anyways, my grandpa (who has been dead for seven and a half years) stood up on the roof of the house (that he and his good buddy, Ralph, were shingling… apparently) and glanced around, but in the midst of all the people, he couldn’t see me and my fellow escapees. He then set down the ax that he was obviously using to shingle the house, picked up a bow and arrow and shot an arrow way over our heads. Does anyone else get a David and Jonathon vibe? I guess analyzing this dream isn’t the point so on we go…

We are running toward the house (a stupid decision now that I’m awake but the only clear course of action when in dreamland) when one of the crowd of people milling about suddenly steps in front of me. I don’t have time to react or stop so, I brace for impact … and run right through her. She’s a ghost. They are all ghosts! Apparently this doesn’t really both me or my fellow convicts, because we keep running. We finally reach the sanctuary of the garage and find an old Model-T. The idea to jump in an drive away doesn’t seem to cross our minds, so we rush over to the refrigerator and grab all the food out of it and divvy it up amongst us. The fridge, I should mention, wasn’t full of normal food. Oh no. It was full of frog legs and chicken livers and armadillo bile. … awesome, right?

After the “food” was divided, we decided to split up. But the minute the first person left the cover of the garage, she was shot dead by a sniper hidden in the suddenly-appearing mountain range. Deciding that our odds are better if we all take off running at once, the four of us all pick a direction and on the count of three, we take off. I dash out of the garage and veer left toward another cropping of trees that line the property. I make the trees amidst gunshots and dive into the safety of a ravine. This time I find myself in the midst of a group of fauns (think, Mr. Tumnus) and a porcupine all having tea together. Apparently I felt quite safe here, because I stayed for tea and discussed “The Rise And Fall Of The Roman Empire” which dream me had just finished and I thought “was quite good, apart from all the killing.”

Then, my husband comes driving up on the opposite side of the trees in the Model-T and tells me to jump in. I do and off we drive as if we are going on a Sunday afternoon cruise about the countryside and not being shot at by snipers. The shooting stops and the people/ghosts (who are still milling about) vanish.

It was at this point that dream me realized that I’m an outlaw and there is no way I’ll be able to get on a plane and fly to Texas because national security will have most assuredly flagged my name and the minute I step into the airport, they are going to arrest me again. A ninja then jumps on top of the hood of the Model-T, hands me a Multipass, says, “ninja vanish” and disappears in a puff of smoke. Then I woke up.

The end.


The Great Nerd War of 2012

I must commend the maker of the Nerd box. It is unassumingly strong and surprisingly aerodynamic. When in the course of human events, one must grab the nearest weapon to launch at your opponent and all that is handy is a box of Nerds, it comes through in a pinch. When heaved towards your opponent who deftly dodges and the small missile collides with a corner or a end table or a chair, it holds itself together nicely and keeps its tasty contents intact. It’s a noble feat, truly.

You might ask why I know this. A good question, as this isn’t normally in someones arsenal of thought. Well, my opponent, er, I mean, husband, began to pick on my during an intense episode of Doctor Who. I am not match for him in brute strength, so I waged war with my mind, which was quickly trumped by tickling. As he has built up a resistance to such attacks, I grabbed the nearest weapon (i.e. the box of nerds I was about to open) and flung it in his general direction. Though I missed my target, I had succeeded in distracting him long enough to grab more ammunition and scurry away. Realizing that the rules of war had quickly changed (and in his favor I might add considering his prowess at all things athletic), he grabbed his own arsenal and began his aerial assault as he dove toward cover (i.e. the couch). As he flanked my post, I pelted Nerds toward my target, intermittently hitting and missing my goal, but making an impact none-the-less.

The war waged on, each of us grabbing fallen missiles and relaunching them back toward our foe! Pink and purple boxes were raining down on each of us and yet, the war raged on! I had maintained a fierce control of the dining room and was pushed toward the hallway with a steady barrage of pink and purple Nerd missiles. He, however, had control of the living room including the entryway and was attempting to overtake my right flank as I pushed to control the hallway. His missiles seemed to be hitting  home more often than mine which was devastating to my campaign (he must have equipped his missiles with GPS … or he had better aim…) and the tide of the war quickly turned in his favor as I found myself scrounging for cover underneath the kitchen table. As I grasped at fallen ammo from the edges of my cover, he made one final and bold push toward the dining room and swiped the last piece of lingering ammunition right from underneath my outstretched fingers…

The war was over. He had won. As I conceded the victory and limped wearily toward the couch, he enjoyed the spoils of war gleaned from inside the fallen ammunition that littered the floor. As I surveyed the scene of wreckage at my feet and offered a moment of silence for the casualties of war: the almost empty glass of water now spilled across the coffee table; the DVD cases knocked askew by the wayward artillery; the magazines now scattered on the floor and lay surrounded by the used and unused ammo.

The Great Nerd Box War of 2012 will not soon be forgotten. It’s bloody history will be written in books and made into cinematic masterpieces for years to come. Children will be told of the bravery of their parents as they bolded stepped forward into battle armed only with candy boxes of pink and purple. This war was not able pride or riches; it was about principles and fair play. It was a demonstration of what happens when a man tickles his wife mercilessly and doesn’t weigh the consequences of doing so while she is near a bowl of candy. Let this be a lesson to all of you that might read these words: Draco dormiens dunquam titillandus (A sleeping dragon is never to be tickled).

Epilogue: A full 10 seconds passed before the two side of The Great Nerd Box War of 2012 put their differences aside and joined hands in friendship (and marriage) again. Though they both knew that they would never forgot that glorious battle, they quickly fell about themselves in laughter at the experience. The two sides soon realized that they were much better as a team than as opponents (though they must have known this all along as they were laughing during the entire battle) and vowed to never again wage war against one another with candy… at least until next Halloween.


Orange, Blue, & Pink

Orange (Leukemia), Blue (Prostate), & Pink (Breast)

My husband never had the pleasure of meeting my grandfathers (specifically my mother’s father) and I never had the honor of meeting one of his.

Why? Because cancer is an evil and cruel thing.

Leukemia shortened my grandpa’s life and prostate cancer took the life of my husband’s grandpa… both were taken from this world far too early.

My grandfather never had the chance to meet any of his great-grandchildren. He wasn’t able to watch all of his grandchildren graduate from high school or college or get married. He didn’t get to meet all his in-laws and they didn’t get the chance to meet him, because of complications due to cancer.

I never had the change to meet my grandpa-in-law. I have seen photos of him and I have been told of his character and it hurts my heart to know that I missed my chance to meet him on this earth because of cancer.

My mother was also a near-victim of cancer. She was diagnosed with breast cancer, but she fought hard and won her battle. Many aren’t so blessed.

That is why I volunteer for organizations like Cancer Services of Northeast Indiana. That is why I champion causes that bring awareness of this disease. That is why I help raise money for cancer research. Because grandpa’s shouldn’t die so early. Mother’s shouldn’t be at risk of leaving their children behind. Because too many people suffer each year. Too many people die each day.

Cancer is a predator, but we can help the victims and we can attack back!


Fortune Cookie Conundrum

I appreciate the fortune cookie – both the tasty treat part of it and the slip of paper promising me health, wealth and happiness. However, I received a fortune today that stymied me.