A Genius is Born

I must say that as Halloween approaches this year, I find that I have gained a new love for the holiday that I haven't experienced in quite some time.  That's not to say that I've never loved it.  As a kid all that free candy and a chance to rove about our less than safe neighborhood for once was almost more excitement than my little heart could handle.  But then came the teenage years and with them, an almost complete lack of apathy for anything "fun".

But this year, after having finally turned 20 and saying adios to any semblance of "teenagerism" that I may have still been clinging onto, I have once again become a mostly fun person to be with.

At least in matters of creativity and Halloween.

As a result my mom recently approached me with a need for me to help her with my youngest brothers, aged 11 and 9 respectively, find "cool" costumes this year instead of having them go as soldiers as they have gone for the past hundred years or so.

While resistant to the idea at first, I quickly embraced it as a chance to show of my skills of ten thousand men in the realm of creation and create something truly extraordinary.

Partly my change of heart came from a desire to have someone dress up with me.

You see, as a teenager I frequently pulled the "too cool for school" card around Halloween.  The last time I remember actually dressing up was when I was 12 and dressed up for school in seventh grade.  I dressed as a witch and all I remember about that day was feeling overwhelmingly uncomfortable and after an encounter with a boy who possessed absolutely NO social graces and who told me that I needed to be burned at the stake, I vowed never to do it again.  The following years contained a lot of costumes such as "myself", an "undercover secret agent" and my all time favorite, "a starving college student".

But this year things have changed.  I now teach seven different four year olds who I swore I'd dress up for.  The most amazing thing (and the easiest too.  Baby steps.) I could come up with was Hermione Granger from the well beloved Harry Potter series.  I already had the white button up shirt, and a few other accessories including the naturally poofy/ curly hair.  All I needed was a wand and of course a time turner and I was set.

But I wanted someone to dress up Harry Potter theme with me.

And that, my good people leads us back to the beginning of this story.

My 11 year old brother has been a big fan of Harry Potter since he started reading them late last year.  It seemed like a perfect fit.  For a while we toyed with the idea of him being Harry Potter himself, but that was too run of the mill for me.  And he didn't want to spray paint his hair.

For awhile we were stuck.

And then the gears in my head began turning and a genius was born.

Instead of Harry Potter he could go as the beloved and zany character Mad Eye Moody.

It was brilliant!

And after consulting him and finding him game, I started the search for the most amazing costume in the history of costumes from me and I now present you with the final product.

I know.  Pure Creative Genius.

And of course, just so you know how amazing I am, here is the real Mad Eye Moody to compare it too.

You have my permission to bask in my genius.

My Crazy Lot in Life

My job is easy.  I come in at 8:00 in the morning, vacuum dinosaur exhibits for two or more hours, leave around noon most days and have time enough to take a lengthy nap or at least rest before heading off to my other job later in the day.

It really is a sweet gig.

Or at least it was.  At the end of August, my boss informed me that he would be going out of town for a few weeks on vacation and that while he was gone, I was going to have to pick up some extra responsibilities around the museum.

He walked me through the basics for a few days.  It really wasn't all that hard.  Water the plants once a week, make sure the fish have water.  Feed the fish everyday, but its okay if you miss a day here or there because they have algae growing in their little fake habitats that they can eat.  And of course, don't forget to feed the lizard his weekly morsel of "large crickets".

Now, before I continue my ill fated tale, I have a quick side note.

The museums lizard is an African Monitor Lizard.  A quick Google search can tell you that they require the usual commodities most pets require.  A large enough enclosed area to scurry about in, a heat lamp to provide dry humid temperatures, a large water source so they can soak their entire bodies when they feel dehydrated primarily due to the dry humid heat lamp, and a diet of crickets and small rodents (basically anything they can overpower.) (See "Wikipedia".)

The dryness caused by the heat lamp was a problem for our lizard.  While he had a tank of water large enough to soak himself in when he wanted to, he'd grown a tad bit lazy in recent months and as a result my boss had taken to spraying him down with a pressurized weed sprayer full of hot water once a week.

Now on with the narration.

After walking me through the basics, my boss racked his brain to think if there was anything else he needed me to do while he was gone.

He couldn't think of anything and actually made a point of telling me that the lizard wouldn't need to be watered down until my boss returned.

This seemed odd to me, but I failed to question the man and nodded in acknowledgement.

My boss then left me alone . . . so very alone . . . and in an element I was very unfamiliar with.

(Quick Side note #2~ my mom wasn't a huge fan of pets and so we didn't really spend much time around animals growing up.  Now, as a full grown adult, I have a severe phobia of most animals and can't touch them to save my life.  Fish on the other hand, still fascinate me.)

For three weeks I pressed on though.  I went to the pet store every Friday to buy crickets despite how horrifying it was to feel them jumping away, trying to escape their plastic bag of a prison.  And every Friday, I would dump the entire bag of crickets into the tank, terrified that they would escape and I would have to hunt them down and pick them up with my hands of all things.

But I soldiered on because I am an awesome employee.

But never once did I water him down.

Then about five days before my boss was due to come back, our lazy lizard looked like death.  He was shriveled up, had shrunken eyes and just looked horrible.  Having done everything I'd been told to do, and with no other advice to use, I turned to the museum manager for her advice.  She said that he was probably just missing my boss and that I should get in there, spray him down with water and that another employee should pet the depressed little guy so he could feel that human contact.

When we did this, the lizard immediately began looking a million times better.  His stomach puffed out, his tongue flicked out, and he looked around with what one could only imagine was a smile plastered across his scaly face.

For awhile everything seemed fine.  But of course, the universe couldn't cut a girl a break.

Two days later, and only three days before the sweet release that would come with my bosses return, it happened.  Our lizard pushed up the daisies, kicked the can, and passed away.  He was an unknown age.

Now as sad of a tale as this is, it gets worse.  For me anyway.

Naturally as someone who isn't comfortable around plants OR animals, my biggest fear and the one thing that has led to more stress dreams and nightmares than I've had since college would be the festering thought that I could so easily be responsible for one of these living things untimely demises.

And I was literally THREE DAYS away from not having to worry about it any more!

I know it wasn't my fault ('cuz it wasn't).  But what are the odds that it would happen literally three days before my boss was due back and after the lizard had spent months living his lazy lifestyle.

The moral to this story is twofold.

1.  ALWAYS question the man.
2.  It doesn't do good to dwell on negative/ fearful thoughts because if you do they come true.


And that, my fellow interneters, is the end of my tale.  You're welcome.

People

Last week I promised I was trying to be better at not complaining.

I am still holding true to that promise . . . at least in person.  But here on the internet I can be as grouchy as I want and most people just find time to find it somewhat amusing.

With that being said, there is only one thing I have to say today.

You know it's been a day when you start considering the upsides of the plague.

Random Update

I frequently complain about my job.  It's not a good quality.  I accept that.  And while you may not believe it, I am trying to change it.  Being a Debbie Downer is not a trait that people are attracted to.  And if it irritates me when my coworkers do it, I probably shouldn't either.

On that goal oriented note.  I am mad.

People . . . in case you hadn't noticed it is legitimately raining outside. And there is a good chance lightning might be coming forth from the heavens in a show of fury only to be rivaled by my fury at you coming to my place of business on a Saturday night. Go home. Snuggle up with your loved ones. Don't go out in this weather. Good grief.

That is one of the few things I can't stand at work.  When I go thinking no one will come because its raining or storming or is in all other ways completely miserable and then they do.  And they want all the bells and whistles that accompany coming to the Gardens.

These people are legitimate pains in my butt.

But enough complaining!  I am unshackling myself from the burden of care and am going to talk about something else.  And if you have read this far, you are going to listen.

While work has been an all consuming pit of despair, other parts of my life have been moving along successfully.  Financially I am in a better place than ever. Of course, being in a better place than broke isnt all that hard to accomplish. 

My brothers are back in school which means more quiet time around home for me. 

And of course- the weather has been nice and gloomy. (That was a sincere statement. No sarcasm at all. (There was none there either . . . Stop laughing.))

Anyway, have a good week people of the Internet. It's on the house. 

Paradox Space

Paradox is defined as; "any person, thing or situation exhibiting an apparently contradictory nature."

This being said; my life is currently the epitome of "paradox".

You see, I work in Customer Services.  I get paid to work a front desk where people come, pay me to get into various places on property and go on their merry, or not so merry ways.  However, the paradox comes into play when one discovers that I really, really don't like people.

It's not that I don't like ALL people.  I have friends.  And I could even make more if I felt so inclined.  (Luckily I don't.)  But when it comes to nameless people that I have only the briefest of contact with.  I really don't like them.

Now, you may be asking yourself; "Madison.  If you hate people so much, why'd you WILLINGLY get a job where you would have to deal with a wide variety of people and be exposed to some of the worst the human race has to offer?"

Excellent question.

The answer is . . . well- I did it because I have a hard time interacting with people in general.  I've blogged about my introvertedness on more than one occasion.  And the blog itself is named "The Hermit Files" for goodness sakes.  I thought that if I took a job that not only forced me to interface with co-workers, but random pedestrians as well, I would be able to interact on a normal "social" level which would no doubt advance me through the ranks of my peers and ultimately help me succeed at life.

In a way, this job has done just that.  I have been finding it easier and easier to not only interact with people, but read the subtle clues imbedded in their body language to the point that I secretly refer to myself as; "the people whisperer."  On top of that, I've been gaining more control over my own body language and have been using it to my advantage.  For example, when dealing with an obstinate guest, my tone may be pleasant, but if they're smart enough, they can see the raw fury bubbling just under the surface.  Sadly in most cases, they aren't clever enough to discern it.  But it's there nonetheless.

In conclusino- in a lot of ways, it has been very good for my personal growth.

However, it has also been just a tad detrimental because ultimately, it's made my opinion of people in general, which we've already established as being particularly low, do an olympian style dive off the deep end and down 20,000 leagues under the sea.


And on that note, my good people, concludes my rant for the week.  Savor it.  I know I have.

Segway Surprises

Gift giving is not one of my strong suites.  It's hard to come up with brilliant ideas that people will love. But every now and again I hit the jackpot.

Lucky for me, with my mom's birthday just around the corner, I was able to come up with something great.

One of the perks of Thanksgiving Point Gardens (where I work), is that they rent Segways out for people to ride.  While you do have to sign your life away to ride one, it's totally worth it when you start cruising around like an insane person.  Everyone in my family has wanted to do this since we found out about it.  Sadly, you have to be 18 to do so.

Lucky for me, I've been 18 for awhile.

And so my mom and I traveled back to work to ride on some of the funnest things since Golf Carts.

Here's some video of our merry misadventures.

It was one of the funnest days I've had in awhile.  And I can guarantee, I'll be back to do it again real soon.

Social Musings

I'm not a morning person.  My family can attest to that.  Quite often, it takes me at least a half hour to fully wake up and be alert enough to hold an intelligent conversation.  If you try to talk to me before then . . . I'll make like its prehistoric times and the best you'll be getting out of me is a series of grunts and sighs.

Because of this distaste for mornings, my job has been both a blessing and a curse.  I love it to pieces but it begins at 8 AM . . . far too early for me to be "pleasant company" but at the same time, that doesn't matter because for two hours I'm virtually all alone in the museum.  This means that I don't exactly need any social graces.  I mean, correct me if I'm wrong, but the dinosaurs don't exactly care.  However, this all changes at 10 AM when the museum officially opens for business and for two hours I have to be consciously aware of the fact that my natural face looks like I'm about ready to murder someone and then keel over dead myself.

After five months of working, I'm proud to say that I had gotten in the habit of smiling at everyone.  In fact, sometimes I will be at the store and I will stare someone down with a big smile on my face until they, sensing the creepy smiling stalker, look up and smile in return.  But this all changed when, for about three weeks, I didn't have to wake up at 6:30 in order to get to work on time.  I was sleeping in till almost 9:00 for almost three weeks and it was absolute bliss.  But then tulip festival ended, and my hours at the gardens got cut back.  I'm back at the museum (which I have absolutely missed) and have found that my smiling habit have all but disappeared.  In fact, I'm almost so out of it with the return to the morning schedule that I seem almost robotic in nature and thought.

Here is a tidbit of something that legitimately ran through my mind only a few days ago.

I was walking through the Discovery Room to get to the back where the cleaning supplies are kept.  A woman was walking towards me with her son in tow.  She was a happy, cheerful sort of person and so of course she was smiling as she walked closer.  Time seemed to physically slow down as I processed the scene before me.

"Okay.  The woman is smiling.  What do I do next?  Proper human reaction is to smile back.  Ah!  Smile."

And so I smiled, time sped back up and I went on my merry and robotic way.

I swear.  Some of my most insightful and enlightening moments occur when I'm half conscious and wandering through the museum.

On that note, here are some fun creations I've found at work.  The museum's great for kids, but sometimes I think that parents get just a tad bit bored.

Random Stories Revival

In school, one of my favorite things to do was write random stories.  It was a fun way to interact with my friends and it definitely relived some of the dismal boredom otherwise faced in the hallways of horror.

My friends greatly appreciated my overabundance of wit and creativity and and ultimately encouraged me to continue writing them long after my juvenile days in public school were over.

This leads me to today.

As a result of my friends encouragement, I have continued writing these stories.  Luckily, they have gotten a little more mature and a little less . . . stupid . . . over the years and as a result, I feel comfortable sharing them with you.  As a result, I'm creating a new page (you can find all my pages under the Page Tab on the right side of the screen), on which I will post some of the newest additions to my Random Story collection just as soon as I find one not completely and utterly embarrasing.

Hopefully, I will also be able to convince a few of my friends to help me with this new project I'm dubbing "Operation Random Smiles" or "Operation Epic Tales" (name subject to change), and it will be even better than before.

Until then amigos, enjoy your day, night or time zone.

YouTube Shout Out!

Today's post is a post about something very dear to my heart.  Something that has made me smile, and in some cases downright laugh lately, despite the stress of finals looming over my head.  It is, without a doubt, one of the best kept secrets of YouTube, and I'm about to share it with all of you.

About a year ago, a video game called Minecraft hit the charts and quickly became one of the most talked about and played games in America (or at least my little part of America).  It seemed that everyone got into the strangely addicting awesomeness that is Minecraft (obviously, I did too), and all kinds of things just sort of exploded from here.  One of the things I've found across YouTube are videos of various people playing this fantastical game with their own commentary on its wondrous nature.

One such group of people are friends of mine who just happen to have what I personally believe to be, some of the funniest commentary on the game ever.  But don't take my word for it.  Here are a couple of my personal favorites.  And at the bottom is a link to their channel.  Please check it out.  Subscribe.  Get them to keep making these gems of the internet because they really do make my day.  (Wow.  That last part sounded a little selfish . . . of course it totally was.  I want more videos!)

Dropper Part 1





Survival Games; Frodo is Not Our Friend







Episode 2; Try Try Again




CLICK ME to see more epicness!

Jurassic Manor Part 2

Finally!  The Long Anticipated Part 2 is up and running!  Aren't you all just so excited?

Regretfully, this post is not as climatic as the last.  But never fear.  A special guest star pops up in this;

THE SECOND HALF OF MY JURASSIC PARK DREAM.

Let us begin.


When we left off, our hero (namely me) was hiding behind glass cases as a T-Rex stared into it.  No doubt this part of my dream comes directly from the one scene of the real Jurassic Park that I've actually seen.  (Shown below).

At any rate, this scene happens in my dream.

I'm hiding behind glass cases and a T-Rex leans down and peers through them, seeming to stare into my very soul.  Yes, yes.  I know.  Glass cases aren't exactly "the best" hiding place in the world.  But keep in mind that I'm in some kind of gigantic manor house, surrounded by the crashing waves of some beautiful looking ocean that I can't find it in myself to swim through.  And so I hid.  I hid behind these woefully inadequate glass cases and prayed.  All-the-while knowing that the beast gazing in at me with its eye of death could smell the fear burning brightly in my chest and was preparing for the kill.

Then suddenly, and without warning, I find myself being sucked through a deep, dark, abyss-of-a-hole and into the lobby of the Manor House and far, far away from the killer Tyrannosaurus Rex.


Now this is the part of the story where everything gets thrown out the window.  I'm not sure what happens to me from this point forwards.  The last thing I remember is me, running for my life through the lobby as a few Velociraptors have gotten loose and are chasing everyone down.  (Luckily that old adage is true (If you are being chased by a bear you don't have to outrun the bear, you just have to outrun your friend.)) and I find myself more or less safe because I'm always the most athletic person in the room in my dreams.  Unfortunately, from here, my story is lost to time and the remainder of my dream is focused on our mysterious guest and her wonderfully random antics.

Meet Aubrey Hepburn.  The heroine of the remainder of my bizarro dream.

After losing sight of myself in the manor, my dream perspective shifts to the front of the house.  I can only assume that the Doctor Who phrase; "It's bigger on the inside" rings true in this case, because I don't see how else you could fit an entire world within this average sized manor house.

It is exactly at this point in time, as I'm contemplating Doctor Who within my dream, that I see something rather unexpected.  A car, that looks an awful lot like a large toy car, crashes through the front of the house and squeals away towards the freeway, ignoring all the panicked pedestrians as it plows through anything that gets in its way.  Moments later, a massive Tyrannosaurus Rex plows through the remainder of the front of the Manor House, once again bringing the question to mind; "How did they fit an entire world into such a small space?"

However, my mind can only focus on this question for a moment before it's focused on the high speed pursuit occurring between the compact car and the gargantuan dinosaur.

The compact red car makes for the freeway with everything its got.  It's speed is only barley enough to keep the car from being squashed under the massive feet of the giant lizard desperately trying to kill it dead.

My point of view now transitions to the front of the car.  It is here that I see who has been madly driving the vehicle around the twists and turns of the freeway.  It's none other than Audrey Hepburn herself.  Beloved actress of the mid-to-late 1900's.

Miss. Hepburn is desperately driving, both hands on the wheel, speeding away from this deadly beast that seems oddly single minded in its pursuit of our heroine.  And thus the chase continues.

Forever and ever it would seem as it is from this point that our story ends.  I wake up.  Life continues.  Reality sets in.  And you shake your fist at the computer after reading such an anti-climatic story.



I guess it's only fair that I post this story on April Fools day since it seems like such a joke.  But it wasn't my good people.  This is the dream I dreamed as far as I can remember it.  Enjoy the rest of your prankster day.  I will see you again real soon.