my soft voice + my inability to enunciate (read: i mumble) (yes, still) are getting me into trouble. case in point: yesterday, i ordered a grande iced americano. what came out was a grande iced americano with 4 shots of espresso. 4 SHOTS OF ESPRESSO. that’s terrifying. and unnecessary.

warning: may cause earthquakes in your fingertips.

warning: insomnia. and so, the lack of sleep last night means i need all the coffee today. vicious cycle.

deep thoughts from twitter:

“when you say yes to others, make sure you are not saying no to yourself.” @mepicwomen

“i never have so much pure, white hot rage than i do when my alarm goes off.” @margotwood

“there’s a chance i may love pizza more than people.” @rachaelenglish

“to all the people who think books for teen girls are, by definition, lesser: a teen girl just won the nobel freaking peace prize.” @officiallyally

“just learned a glorious german word. Kummerspeck: weight gain from emotional overeating. literal translation is grief bacon. GRIEF BACON.” @meganmccafferty

“i either need more hours or more me’s.” @veschwab



the day started as all weekdays do: hitting the snooze button one too many times and then, shower. hot water cascaded down and the thoughts piled higher than the steam. i pondered how many pastries to buy for brunch the next day and which open houses i should go to and how will i get there and should i drive or take public transportation to try and simulate my work commute and is my library book still on hold and should i go sunday or monday and oh wait, monday’s a holiday so they’re closed and that’ll be a good day to do homework and i hope the weather’s nice, but not too nice because i have to do laundry and then i blinked.

it’s friday.

not this upcoming weekend.

with an emotional crash, i was brought back to reality. i have to go to work. today. now. but, woah, that really felt like it was saturday and i was planning my weekend errands and holy cow, i just came back from the future. i invented time travel!

this is going to be a good day.

convos with strangers

the other side of publishing

once upon a time, the phone rang.

me: this is abby.

him: this is pain in the [butt].

me: *laughs* what can i do for you?

him: what margins do you want for that book?

me: *brains fires* *thinking thinking thinking, i know i just sent him a book. what was it? oooh, the author is on the tip of my tongue* *think think think, the title, yes, oh, i know this* going out. *balances phone on shoulder* *types into database*

him: oh, well can you call me back?

me: what? call you back? no, i just need one sec. i can’t get the database to work right. *types furiously* just one more sec. one more…

him: you said you were going out.

me: oh, no, *laughs* that’s the book’s title.

him: *pauses* why, yes it is.

me: you thought, what, i don’t speak in complete sentences anymore? going out. no talking. done here.

him: hanging up now.

me: i like it.

him: *coughs* *clears throat* *coughs* keeling over.

me: how about if i give you the margins? will that make you feel better?

him: it would.

and that’s how books get made, or more accurately, a really old book gets scanned in hopes of becoming a print or e-version.

the end.

convos with strangers

conversations with strangers #42

strangers? why i’m talking to them.

as i rolled down my window, the parking lot attendant leaned out his.

him: that’ll be $20.

me: *reaches for purse*

him: oh, you look just like that actress. you know the one.

me: *thinks to self, here we go.*

him: the one from my SUPER EX-GIRLFRIEND.

me: *thinks to self, that’s the movie he’s referencing?* and KILL BILL.

him: yes! what’s her name?

me: uma thurman.

him: YES! you look just like her.

R: *leans over from passenger side* she is uma thurman. can we get comped?

him: *laughs* nice try, but sorry, no.

me: *thinks to self if i was uma thurman, i’d certainly not bat an eyelash at a $20 parking charge. heck, i wouldn’t have to pay it because i wouldn’t be driving. i’d have a driver.*

R: *to me* ab, i got this. i have a declining balance with you. *to man* do you take credit cards?

him: yes.

*as he ran the credit card, i turned to R*: i’ve always thought uma thurman was really weird looking. i kind of hate that’s who everyone tells me i look like.

R: you definitely have similar features to her though. blonde hair.

me: a lot of people have blonde hair.

R: it’s your cheekbones.

me: she’s weird looking!

R: i agree. she is a little weird.

me: it’s equivalent of someone telling me i look like tori spelling.

R: NO. no. no. totally not the same thing. no.

him: here’s your card. the receipt’s on the bottom and the orange ticket on top needs to go on your dashboard.

me: got it, thanks.

and with that, we took our non-famous selves to our non-glamorous parking spot, but just then, we realized the other parking attendant had waited to make sure we had proper directions on how to get into the DCU center to see carrie underwood.

his kindness made us feel a bit like royalty.

in other news, why can’t someone tell me i look like carrie underwood? i’d consider that a compliment.

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i am one of the few people i know who does NOT work well under pressure. the few times i’ve procrastinated, something has come up at the last minute and i’ve had to choose — finish the model of Westminster Abbey/pass the class or skip school for a day/with mother’s help in both skipping school and with model building (hey, i was in the 4th grade). that was a tragic day because i had to SKIP SCHOOL and ask my mom for help. sure, some kids would be cheering, but i was just worried about all the work i’d have to make up.

another time, i choose to wait to fill up my car’s tank of gas until the day of departure which resulted in having to wait 45 minutes at the gas station (long story) plus, that 45 minutes allowed all the other cars to leave work and hit the road which added up to two more hours on the highways.

the reason why i have pressure on the brain (other than this cold i developed on friday) is that i witnessed two of the best procrastinators i know at work. one being brother G and the other being my uncle T. and they pulled off the best videos/presentations of the night (i’ll tell you about the party at a later date). i don’t know about uncle T, but i know brother G has my mother’s ability to stay up until the wee hours of the night, which helps when your deadline is only hours away. me? i’m a sleeper. a napper. a go to bed early-er. a wake up later. i’m pretty much always tired which severely hinders things when a deadline is only hours away and which is a driving factor of why i don’t adhere to the “why do something today when it can wait until tomorrow” but rather to the “why do something today when i could have been done yesterday.” (i wonder if being a night owl (or a really early bird) helps with this procrastination thing…?)

yes, i’m the girl who, when applying to undergraduate colleges, told my mother that if she didn’t read my essays by week’s end, i was going to mail them in without her comments. she’d had them for two weeks, but yes, i gave my mother a deadline, which was still weeks ahead of when the actual applications were due. me, who had lacrosse practice and games six days a week plus all sorts of school work plus friends to see plus books to read for fun on top of all that.  my mom still laughs about it to this day mainly because she was the one nagging my other siblings about writing their essays whereas i was the one nagging her. (oh man, how early are the signs? i am becoming my mother!)

this is the only “good” way i differ from my siblings: i stay on top of things (tee hee). i blame G and J because they are both so naturally smart, i had to study extra hard to be able to match the grades they brought home. and then there’s the whole blushing thing. it’s bad. still is. but i figured if i was prepared with the answers (well, except for math class), perhaps i wouldn’t blush when the teacher called on me. didn’t work, but i didn’t stop trying. some call this tenacious or ambitious. others call it stubborn. it depends on if your glass if half full or half empty.

what’s the point of all this? there isn’t one, really, but everyone either is a procrastinator or knows one and in my cold medicine ravaged brain, this is the post you’re getting. talk to me about your procrastination efforts. ever get into a jam you couldn’t get out of or are you the type who spins gold out of dust?

(seriously, talk to me here. i want loads of comments. this is a general topic, so i KNOW YOU CAN RELATE TO IT. speak up. your voice is important! *offers cookies*)

p.s. speaking of pressure, i don’t recommend flying when you have a cold. the part where the plane descends for its landing? yeah, the pain will radiate downwards from your ears to your jaw to your teeth and back up to your sinuses until you’re forced to check your ear to make sure it’s not dripping blood from a ruptured ear drum.