randomness

Randomness

I have a veritable potpourri of items to mention today, so don’t
expect this entry to have any sort of continuity. 🙂

I’ve been doing deposit verifications at work this week — when
the apartment complex you want to live in asks which bank you hold your accounts
with, and they send in a request to see your average balance for the past
six months, it goes to someone like me. I look up people’s accounts, write
down the requested information, and sign and date the provided form. So,
I’ve been getting a lot of practice signing my married name. Heh.
I’ve pretty much got it down now, though. Learning to forge my mom’s name
really had an impact on my "S" (my mom’s name is Suzanne, and I
swoosh my Schnuth "S" kind of like hers now).

Rama enjoyed her candle, though she didn’t realize at first that
I’d made it for her. I don’t really think it smells like Hazelnut
Eggnog, having made real hazelnut eggnog a couple weeks ago, but
it still smells good. I even took my dye block and crunched it up to sprinkle
fake nutmeg on the top. I took pictures to post on my candle page, when I
get it going on.

I went with most of Lockbox to El Zarape for lunch today, too,
to wish Rama well. Her last day is Friday, after which she and her husband
will be going on vacation to visit friends, then she’ll be taking three grad
classes for her MBA. She’s hoping to be done in two years. —Anyway,
back to El Zarape. I’ll bet you’re thinking I went off my diet. Au contraire!
I ordered the fajitas, with the warm tortillas that come separate, and just
didn’t eat the tortillas or the rice. I’m sure I ate more carbs than I should
have, anyway, with all the veggies, but I didn’t do too bad, considering.

In light of the spread of the flu, I have been washing my hands
at work like an obsessive-compulsive. Well, OK, maybe not that much,
but I’m being much more thorough than usual. I’ve been sneezing and having
those nasty wintry dry boogers up my nose, so I’ve just been waiting to wake
up sick one day… but it hasn’t happened yet. I will continue to wash my
hands and take my vitamins, and hope to stave off the assault of the flu
season.

Even though there’s barely a snowball’s chance that the person
I’m about to reference will ever find my page and read it, I will nonetheless
not mention her name… Don’t worry, it’s nobody you know. OK, now that the
disclaimer’s out of the way: I am so, so glad that Aaron and I have
a healthy relationship. I’m glad we don’t play mind games with each other,
or guilt-trip each other, or threaten to leave each other at the drop of
a hat. I’m glad we don’t have insane mood swings and changes of opinion.
I’m glad we’re similar ages and levels of maturity. I’m glad we didn’t have
children before we were married.

And speaking of children… Jesus H. Tapdancing Christ, why does
everybody at work think I need to have kids RIGHT NOW? I mean, Rama said
to me today, "Let me know when you have a baby." Huh?
It’s gonna be a while, sister, but I’ll let you know… in a few years. It’s
not like we’re actively trying right now, or have plans to conceive in the
near future. I swear, these people are worse than my own mother… and Mom’s
been known to hound us about grandkids, though not as much as Aaron’s grandparents
do. 🙂

And, to wrap this thing up, here’s the weekly (really bad) joke
from the Sky intranet:

Q: What’s worse than raining cats and dogs?

A: Hailing taxis.

randomness

Um… stuff.

As I was desirous to read different and more up-to-date blogs (except for Beth’s, which is always current), I was glad to discover that my friend Jason started a Xanga. Unfortunately, I couldn’t comment or give him "eProps" unless I was signed up. So, I did. (It just points back here, anyway.) Then, I read Beth’s entry for today, which was basically aimed at me, being the only non-LiveJournal member of her usual audience. So, I signed up there, too. (Again, it just points back here.) I figure, maybe it’ll be a sort of link to my real site, and I’ll get more traffic from my LJ and Xanga-owning friends.

It occurred to me at work today that my sloth will be my undoing. Mainly because I’ve been showing up 10 to 15 minutes late for work, and taking a 45-minute lunch to compensate. Pretty soon, my boss is going to notice while he’s doing payroll, and I’m going to hear about it. I need to get to sleep earlier and get up earlier. And actually get up, not hit the snooze then turn it off so I won’t bug Aaron then wake up when I should be going to the car then leave when I should have already been there. Thankfully, work is only a 10-minute drive, even when I catch all the red lights. (If all the planets align, I can make it in seven.)

I also see what people mean when they talk about the last hour of the workday being wasted. I didn’t understand before, when my volume of work determined when I would get to leave. But now, when it doesn’t really matter how much I get done before five, I totally shirk the last half-hour or more.

Rama’s last day of Lockbox is Friday, but since I’m going to be off in Dayton at Amy’s grandpa’s funeral, I won’t be at work to wish her well. So, I’m going to make her a candle to give her as a good-luck-happy-holidays present, and give it to her tomorrow. I’d better get to it.

ruminations

Doesn’t anybody update anymore?

Hey, guys? Um… I don’t know if this blog phenomenon may have
peaked or something, but Beth
is the only one besides me still aggressively updating her blog. I either
need to find more friends with blogs, or beat you all about the head until
you update. Hell, Colvey’s page doesn’t even come up anymore. Maybe I need
to go spelunking for more blogs to check…

My new fragrance oils are wonderful. Hershey’s Chocolate, Drakkar,
and — oops, I can’t tell you that one. Mom might be reading. I’ll tell
you later. Wonderful fragrances all. I now have quite the fragrance arsenal.

After work today, I went out to finish Christmas shopping for
Aaron. Got a couple things, one of which he’s sure to recognize under the
ttree if he gives it a little thought. Ah, well. He should have known he was
getting it, anyway. I feel like we’re a little more even now, present-wise.
🙂 Also headed to Goodwill, hoping that the other two of the diamond-pattern
glass mugs I bought this weekend would still be there. Alas, they were not,
but I got some other glassware instead.

And holy cow, do I have an inventory of glassware now. I’ve got
a total of… *opening cupboard and counting* …19 containers, each holding
from four to six ounces. Four sundae cups (I have big plans for those), four
smoky-colored squarish goblets (intended for amaretto-and-coke), two diamond-pattern
glass cups, two glass jars with lids, one brown lidded jar, and miscellaneous
small votive holders, including a ceramic watering can (obviously being saved
for a floral scent, when I get one).

I’d been having a hankering for hot chocolate, so I found a recipe
on the Atkins Diet Bulletin Board last week. Aaron bought me some unsweetened
powdered cocoa with the groceries on Sunday, and I just made myself some
hot chocolate this evening. This here hot chocolate makes Swiss Miss taste
like a sugar cube sprinkled with cocoa. Never before I started Atkins had
I truly appreciated the less sweet side of chocolate — I hesitate to
say "bitter," since that has such negative connotations, but I
think "darker" is the more apt description. I mean, I liked Hershey’s
Dark Miniatures and all, but I didn’t realize how insanely sweet your standard
chocolate bar really is. I think I now prefer tasting all the spectrum of
flavors, rather than just sweetness. Who knew? [Note: a while later,
the hot chocolate made me a little queasy. Don’t know why. Maybe I’m just
getting sick.]

Hmm, what else was I going to say…?

Oh, yeah. Kris, if you’re reading my blog (as you sometimes do),
your Jack White comments are ticking me off. (Yes, Aaron shared them with
me.) You don’t know the full story, and neither do I. Neither does the
media. All I’ve got to say for now is, if you were really pissed
at someone, would you have a.) the balls to punch him in the face, and/or
b.) the physical strength to bloody his nose and drag him to the ground?
Not me. Although I disapprove of his lack of restraint, I’m impressed with
his… what’s the word I’m looking for? Strength? Sense of purpose? Presence?
Drive? I’m not quite finding it, but I hope you know what I mean. In summary,
I may not agree with what he did, but damn, he did it well.

And, on a lighter note… I’ve been surfing around, looking for
new blogs to hit, old people to catch up with… and found that the typical
high school jock I went to high school with, Scott Marcum, is a now police
officer in my hometown. (Check
him out — he’s the one on the right. Do you see the football player
in him?)

OK, I gotta go to bed now.

crafty

My Candle Addiction

I’ve been meaning to mention this for a while, but I keep forgetting:

Ladies—have you ever been walking behind someone, maybe someone at work, and finally taken a good look at their ass? And then you say to yourself, ‘My God… I hope my ass doesn’t look like that!’

I made another pair of candles tonight (patchouli this time—not exactly Aaron’s favorite), and used up the last of my first bag of soy wax. I have another bag arriving tomorrow, along with my new scents and wick clips. Anyway, this time, I preheated my containers and let my wax cool down more
before pouring. I still get impatient, though. I know I shouldn’t, but I
do. I can’t wait to see what the finished product will look like, and it’s
so hard to go slowly and do the process right instead of rushing through
to get it done. Freakin’ sit there for fifteen minutes stirring to cool the
wax with one hand and holding a hot blow-dryer to my empty containers with
the other. And I still jumped the gun and may have poured too soon. We’ll
see in a bit.

Both Kris and Mark, when they found out about my candlemaking,
asked me first off, "So, when are you going to start selling them?"
Should this be a clue, or is it just an assumption on their part? If I do
decide to sell my candles, I’ll probably sell them all online by word of
mouth. That’s assuming everybody likes the Christmas candles I make. Yeah,
I’m going for a cheap and simple Christmas: wedding pics and candles.

🙂

I was standing by the printer at work and overheard one guy (the
token "do-you-think-he’s-gay" guy) talking about chocolates with
raspberry creme filling, and chocolate-raspberry coffee. In one moment I
wanted to turn to him and jokingly say, "I hate you," but as I
was walking back to my desk, it occured to me that Chocolate Raspberry would
be a great candle scent. I was also inspired by Kris’ coffee this weekend—I
believe it was Sugar Cookie Caramel Cappuccino or something equally sweet
and scrumptious-smelling.

Aaron made a great analogy this weekend. He said that, with being
on the Atkins diet, watching the Food Network is like being single and watching
porn. Oooh-ing and aaah-ing over fudge truffles and the like, all very much
out-of-reach, but appreciated for what they are nonetheless.

I think I’ve decided that making candles is kind of like that,
too. If I can’t stimulate my taste sense with yummy goodness (although there
are plenty of good things I can still eat), I may as well stimulate my sense
of smell. It’s close enough. Plus, it’s artsy-craftsy, and makes me feel
productive and talented.

Oh, and speaking of talent, Kris brought his trumpet over for
me to practice on. I have zero chops left, man. I got nothin’. Of course,
iit never helps when you’re trying to play softly because you live in a duplex.
I may have to bite the bullet, overcome my embarrassment, and go practice
in the practice wings of the music building on-campus. Those rooms aren’t
totally soundproof, and people can easily hear you in the hallway, which
is one reason why I never used to like to practice for my requisite two hours
per day.

Anyway, I’m going to start out doing sirens on the mouthpiece
and thoroughly annoying my upstairs neighbor. Once I can successfully maintain
sirens and long tones on the mouthpiece alone, I’ll pull out the Bluecoats
brass book and do some warmups from that. Once I can get back up to the advanced
exercises that I could do in ’97, then I’ll feel confident again. The trouble,
though, is that I was never good at doing solely exercises. But I can’t start
on the actual tune we’ll be playing at the LakeShoremen, because I don’t
want to confuse my chops by playing it in entirely the wrong key. (Trumpet
= Bb, Mellophone = F) Even if I learn the right fingerings, it’ll feel different
when I go to play it on a mello.

And incidentally, I’ve decided that once April rolls around and
it’s time to renew dianaschnuth.com, I’m switching over to HostRocket. I
know enough people who’ve had their sites hosted through them that I’m pretty
confident in their services. After putting up with eCom’s bullshit for a
couple of years, I’ve had enough. Even if their service would improve if
I went to one of the higher-priced plans, I wouldn’t stay with them because
of their low-grade customer service. Plus with HostRocket, for $9.95 a month
(two years prepaid), I get a full gig of storage space plus backend capabilities
and unlimited email addies and unlimited subdomains (like details.dianaschnuth.com
or candles.dianaschnuth.com).

So, I think I’m going to go check and see how my candles are
setting up, and maybe try photographing some of my other candles for posterity.
My fingers smell like patchouli. I smell like a hippie… minus the B.O.

music

Weekend Shenanigans

What a fascinating weekend I’ve had. Really.

On Saturday, Aaron and I hung out with Kris, then went up to Detroit with Mark to watch a band called Blanche perform at the Magic Stick. The openers were a band called the Waxwings, who weren’t bad, and a solo act (with backup singer/harmonica player) named Brendan Bensen. Also pretty good. I enjoyed his set a lot.

Now, I hadn’t been going to talk about this on my blog, but since the cat’s already out of the bag, I see no harm in repeating what I saw at the show. Mark is a giant fan of the White Stripes, and we’re always geeked when we see Jack and Meg at a Detroit show. They like to support the local scene, especially since a lot of the bands who are growing in popularity are longtime friends of Jack. For instance, members of Blanche were also bandmembers with Jack in Goober and the Peas in the 90’s. Anyway, we were watching Brendan do his gig, and quite enjoying the show. And who should walk up in the crowd next to Mark but Jack White himself! We were pretty excited, and surprized that he’s so much bigger in person than he looks on TV appearances. He looks like a waify dude, but he’s really a decently large fellow, though not quite as tall as Aaron, I don’t think. Anyway, he stayed for a song or so, then left the crowd. We all shrugged and kept watching.

Then, a couple songs later, he came back and beelined for one particular guy in the crowd, who we found out later was Jason from the Von Bondies. As Mark put it when he was explaining the incident on the way home after the show, there’s bad blood between them. Fortunately or unfortunately, I saw most of the incident, though I couldn’t hear it due to my earplugs and our extra-close proximity to the speaker stacks. Jack shouted something into Jason’s ear, they had a brief exchange of words while a young woman (also from the Von Bondies) was poking Jack in the back, trying to calm him down — then Jack White of the White Stripes slugged Jason of the Von Bondies right in the nose. Only show where I’ve witnessed a fistfight firsthand, and it was like freakin’ Celebrity Deathmatch. Jack ended up on top of Jason on the floor, punching his lights out, and it took several people (including one burly bouncer) to break it up. Jason needed help off the floor, and two of his bandmates (I believe) helped him backstage.

So, yeah. Brendan Bensen cut his set short right there and then, and we decided to make ourselves scarce and move to the other side of the crowd. This so that a.) we wouldn’t be shoved into the blood spatters on the floor and b.) so we wouldn’t be questioned about what we saw. Especially since Mark and I saw most of it. Of course, once we got to the other side of the venue, there were a couple weirdos there, too, when Blanche went on — one guy had a giant cardboard cutout of Patrick Swayze’s head strapped to his face, and he had a friend in a satiny gray vest who thought that was absolutely great. Everybody else thought they were both drunken idiots. Strangest show I’ve been to in a long, long time.

That didn’t exactly quench my jones for a concert, either.

Then, today, Aaron and I were cleaning the apartment when Amy called. Anyone who knows Amy or ever met her Grandpa — he died yesterday. They knew he wasn’t in the best health for some time now, but that sort of thing is never expected. You know. I talked with Amy on the phone for probably about half an hour, and asked her to let me know when the service is. If I can’t go, I want to at least send flowers or something. If anyone wants details, I can let you know as soon as I do. Shoot me an e-mail. Grandpa was a great guy with a bizarre sense of humor, and it’s really sad to see him go. It’s also sad that the memorial is going to be more of a soap-opera/three-ring circus with the various family members who hate each other and such. Poor Amy.

So, yeah. Bizarreness all around this weekend. Mark’s hero tarnished, Amy’s Grandpa gone, and our house actually clean. Probably blasphemous to put those three occurrences together in the same sentence, but hey. It’s me.