It's Friday, y'all + Obamania!



It's Friday! Bonnie and I have airline tickets for New York City! Three weeks away! So excited!



And I have to admit I've gotten caugth up in Obamania. Announcement regarding his "future plans" tomorrow morning! So excited! I read an article yesterday in The New Republic that referred to him as "Senator Sexy." Hell yes. Found out a friend of mine might get a job working for his national campaign staff. Hell yes! Did I mention I'm so excited?! Because I am so excited!



I feel all wound up and full of---what, hope and promise? It's a great feeling.

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Called out




Ok, some of you have called me out on the questionable grammar in my previous post, the one about copyediting. I think blogging is officially in some strange modern communication limbo between written text and a more oral stream of consciousness, so I'm hoping y'all will give me a pass for being more coloquial and "chatty" on here.



You still love me, right?

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A knack for copy editing is a bittersweet curse



I have spent my entire literate life, from five onwards, mentally correcting every written work I see. Improper capitalization makes me twitch, typos make me shudder, and exceedingly poor grammar can bring on a fit of outrage usually reserved for some jackass that cut you off while giving you the finger.



My hyper-attention to details makes me an ideal copy editor. People quickly learn that I can spot a typo at fifty paces (ok, not really, but never forget that hyperbole does have its place in providing proper emotional emphasis). Before long, I find myself proofing everything but the kitchen sink.



This is great, in that it means I will always be employed. However, this is bad when it comes to day-to-day life.



Take text messaging, or txt mssg (twitch, shudder, rage). I can't stand it. I really can't. I usually call back the texter, although occasionally I will text back. Every time I enter "u" for "you" a little voice inside me screams, "OH THE HUMANITY!" It hurts, people. Texting hurts me.



Or take trying to write a ten-page research paper. I can spend hours going over my works cited page, making sure I correctly formatted each entry. Is every period in its place? Did I indent each entry exactly x number of spaces? As if that weren't bad enough, I then have to write the actual ten-page paper itself. It's an absolutely exhausting experience, as I must forcibly restrain myself from going back over every single sentence as I write it to check for clarity and flow. (Yes, I really will go back over every single sentence as soon as I type it. I edit as I go. I'm one of those writers.)



I'm glad I no longer write poetry. I would overthink every line break and agonize whether each adjective was the absolute right one, or if perhaps a metaphor would better convey the emotion and thought I want to impart. It's all I can do sometimes to write a blog entry of this length without completely geeking out about how it sounds.

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Wild hogs ride free




It was Wild Hogs day at the Georgia Capitol, and all the stars came out to promote their film. That's right, yours truly got to see (sorta...through the heads of the media and bikers who got there early) John "Stayin' Alive/Summer Nights/Look Who's Talking/I'm a Scientologist" Travolta, Tim "The Toolman Taylor"Allen, William H. "I'm in every goddamn movie" Macy and Martin "Shenenah" Lawrence. It was a little surreal, being packed in amongst hundreds of Harleys, Harley riders, law enforcement, homeless people, state employees and innocent gawkers while the Governor stood on the steps of the Capitol awaiting the arrival of John Travolta et al as "Free Ride" blasted from the portable PA system. I even ran into my (very confused) former supervisor from a previous internship (she was trying to make her way into the Capitol for a hearing and had no idea what was happening).



I then went to class, late. (Hey, John Travolta on a motorcycle does not happen every day, thank you very much.) After class, shopping for party supplies & dinner with CV. Ran into Rachael. Came home. Cleaned the bathroom. Did some studying. Watched a little television. Decided to write this.



Realize I stopped including a subject about halfway through that last paragraph. Don't care. About to go to bed. Awesome.

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Funny




Ok, click here and then scroll all the way down to the bottom. In the black box there is a section entitled "News and Entertainment" that offers links to EW's sister publications' websites. Imagine my 'wtf' moment when I noticed OFFICE PIRATES sandwiched in between MONEY and PEOPLE. A click on OFFICE PIRATES disappointingly took me to the SI.com site, and not to some bizarro publication about swashbuckling Jim Halperts.

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Hey diddle diddle, the cat and the fiddle, the cow jumped over the moon. The little dog laughed to see such sport, and the CD ran away with the...




Since I've moved into the IKEA 350-sq-ft showroom, I can't seem to find my iPod shuffle dock or the CD that accompanies my Spanish textbook. The missing dock is really annoying, since my shuffle died about five days ago and the Edgewood Best Buy didn't have a replacement dock when I was there a few nights ago. (Damn buying the trendy, cute, uniquely-docked iPod!) I haven't had time to look anywhere else, or order one online.




Not having the Spanish CD is only a minor nuisance, since I can listen to all the listening exercises on the textbook's website.



Every time I think about the CD and the dock running off together I want to shout after them, "You're incompatible! It'll never work!" but I know it's no use; you can't tell reckless young lovers anything.

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Car-free 2007




My car is in the process of being sold. I left it at my grandparents' house this weekend, and so begins eleven months of car-free living in Atlanta.



My car is the first car I ever owned. I've had it for 2 years and 4 months. I'm selling it because I hardly ever drive it anymore, and I can't justify the insurance and maintenance costs for a vehicle that spends most of its time in the driveway. It's a little scary, being carless in Atlanta, but the city has changed a lot and become more non-car accessible than it was when I was kid. Still, Atlanta's mostly a car city, so it'll be interesting to see how the next eleven months go.



Other than that, same old, same old. Busy to the point of exhaustion, and loving (almost) every minute of it.

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