Wednesday, October 30, 2013

Career Paths Not Taken

When I was in 8th grade, my classmates and I took online tests that measured our talents and interests in different areas, which would, in theory, suggest careers that we would be well suited to. I hardly remember the test at all, but I definitely remember my results. Sure, there were a couple suggestions like "Author", "Musician", and "Therapist", all realistic and very connected to who I was and what I was interested in at the time.

Also included in the list, however, were things like "Mortician" and "Catholic Priest".

I can't really express through words how I feel about that, so please accept this picture instead.



Anyway, as I've grown older I've had no choice but to spend time thinking about the right career for me, and at the same time I've been compiling a small mental list of careers I will never have. I have listed them below along with explanations as to why I feel that way.

**PLEASE NOTE** I did not include things like "Mass Murderer", "Pirate" or "Intergalactic Space Alien" because they are unrealistic, ridiculous, and, in some cases, not currently an option.

In order of descending likelihood:

Actor: This occupation isn't nearly as out of the question as the others but I still feel it's true. I have been in several plays over the years, almost always in the background. It's true that I like reading and stories and I can actually read aloud pretty well, but when I get onstage it all falls apart, not to mention that I don't have a decent singing voice to contribute to musicals. Oh, and it could also do with a few traumatizing acting experiences when I was younger...

In Raton, every summer we have a children's play company come through town who take a week and throw on a new production of an old fairy tale with the kids from the community. Well, the first time I tried out there were too many kids and I didn't get a part. The next time I took weeks to prepare beforehand, planning my clever answers to their questions: "And how old are you, Sarah?" "I'm as old as you want me to be!" And what do you know, I got a part! Maybe because there was a big shortage of kids that year, but that's beside the point. Anyway, the part I got was one of the witch's assistants in Hansel and Gretel. It was a pretty cool part- there were several of us and we spoke in rhyme. The downside? It was also our job to do a dance dressed as gingerbread men. Yeah, you read that right. They stuck us in gingerbread costumes and we had to do this stupid dance, oh, excuse me, ballet. We were the laughingstock of the cast. Even when our families came to watch at the end of the week, the audience erupted in ridiculing laughter. Sure, it might be cute to see your little 5 and 6 years old do a little dance in costumes, but not 11 and 12 year olds.

Police Officer: This one is because of two simple reasons. One, I seem to lack any kind of presence or authority, and Two, I am terrified of police officers for no real reason. I would be unable to look into a mirror when wearing my uniform because I would immediately have a panic attack.

Taxi driver: I was tragically born without a sense of direction. I have lived in Raton, NM all my life and I can still get lost here, never mind living in a city big enough to need taxis! Let me just assure you that I do have my drivers license and I'm very happy about that. I love having the ability to drive myself anywhere at any time without depending on others. That said, I still don't really enjoy driving that much. It stresses me out quite a bit, especially when passing police officers (see above). Also, I'm really not that much of a people person and the idea of being forced to make small talk with complete strangers bothers me almost as much as navigating. Oh! And money! Charging cranky stressed out people who pick apart my driving route? No thank you! See? Thinking about driving a taxi stresses me out.

Athlete: If you've ever seen me, this is kind of obvious. I'm not built like an athlete. I'm short and very chubby. You know what? If you don't know what I look like, think back to the stereotypical "dork" in kid's movies: the short, squat kid with the glasses who carries an inhaler? Bingo! Also, I don't understand sports at all. Not in general, and especially not football. I am lost completely when it comes to football. The closest to athletics I've gotten was when I was six: I saw the movie "Space Jam" and fell in love with it, especially Michael Jordan. I seriously wanted to BE Michael Jordan when I grew up, which is strangely ironic considering the fact that I am now Michael Jordan's complete physical opposite.

Model: Again, this is pretty obvious when you see me. It really is too bad, especially because my mom and my sister are absolutely beautiful. My mom is even built like a model, tall and slender. As we've covered, I'm short and round and my face is pitted and scarred from years of severe acne. I don't dress like a model and many people might find my tattoos and crazy hair very unattractive. It's kind of funny to think about because it's when my hair is bright pink and I'm dressed in my band T-shirts that I feel prettiest.

Mathematician: I. Hate. Math. So, so much. It confuses me and stresses me out. It's not for lack of trying! I've had some fantastic math teachers over the years- excellent in their field and endlessly patient with me and my constant confusion. When I signed up for my first semester of college and I found out I would eventually have to take a math class, I actually teared up at the thought. In fact, the closest to an accomplishment I've ever had regarding math was when my 8th grade math teacher held up my math binder in each and every one of her classes as the perfect example of what your math binder should never look like.


I had a "Communications" college class a year or two ago and on the first day our teacher had us take out a piece of paper and write down several things we could not do. So, I wrote down:

Sing
Play kickball (childhood sports trauma, don't ask)
Math

She then said, "Look at your list. Now, change "can't do" to "won't do". There was that deep moment when everyone in the class looked down at their lists and "ohhhhhhh"-ed and "ahhhhhh"-ed. I looked down. Singing? Yeah, I physically can. I actually like to, when no one's around to hear. Play kickball? Ehh, harder. But I did and lived through it. Math?

I'm sorry, no. Hell no.

:)

Happy Halloween!!!

Sarah

Thursday, October 10, 2013

Veloci-Cats

I have three kittens: Sheldon, Amy and Three. If you're wondering, yes, I am a fan of The Big Bang Theory.

All three are completely black and very close in size. Three is a little fluffier, but other than that they are close to identical. My mom and step-dad, Leo, also have a kitten right now and my mom has asked on more than one occasion how I can handle three at the same time. Well, it helps that with three of them, they often pick on each other instead of me.

However, sometimes it backfires.

When they are all hyper and running around like crazy, sometimes it seems more like a herd than a trio. They can behave much like a school of fish- synchronized and eerily similar. They also hunt in a pack.

A few evenings ago, I was watching TV and eating Wheat Thins. Of the three kittens, Sheldon in particular likes to steal things that I'm eating- cookies, pieces of cheese... Wheat Thins. He usually doesn't even eat what he steals, he just bats them around on the floor and chases them.

Anyway, as you might imagine, this evening was no different: I was eating Wheat Thins and Sheldon wanted one. Unfortunately for him, I am used to him and know to keep an eye on him when I'm snacking. His solution? Strength in numbers.

Amy hopped up on to my lap and started purring and nuzzling my hand. Three descended from the back of the chair onto my shoulder and started bumping against my face, her tail blocking my vision. In this moment of weakness, Sheldon shot like a mad-cat from the floor to my bowl of Wheat Thins, then streaked across the floor, well out of reach, his prize clamped in his jaws.

As I watched him play hockey with my Wheat Thin, I was struck with a thought: How similar my cats' hunting patterns are to that of the velociraptors in the Jurassic Park movies! Don't know what I mean? Watch!




Well, maybe not quite that extreme, but you get the idea. I shared this thought with several of my family members, to their universal amusement. My sister came up with the term "Veloci-Cats" and also "Kitty-Raptors."

I knew I was right on with the comparison when I watched my kittens hunt a mouse last night. Watch this video and imagine the raptors as smaller, black and fuzzy. Also, replace the human with a terrified little mouse.



I'd say that the biggest difference between the dinosaurs and my cats are:

1. The raptors in Jurassic Park actually seem willing to share the prey, and..
2. There is no way the raptors in Jurassic Park could make any noise to rival that of Sheldon's. He seriously sounded like a lawn mower!

And for the record, I'm not completely heartless. I was eventually able to get near enough to the mouse to scoop him up in an empty Cup-of-Noodles and take him outside to die in peace. Needless to say, my cats were not pleased.

Oh! And if you're wondering how the whole Wheat Thin incident went down, it ended as suddenly as it began- Sheldon batted it across the floor, where it hit Otis' foot. For a split second, time stood still- would she snap at him? Growl? Stare at him until he was able to get it back? Nope! She casually looked down at the Wheat Thin, ate it, and went back to dozing.

Bwa-ha-ha! Sorry Sheldon! Better luck next time...

Sarah