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I am participating in a 31 Days Campaign and am finally going to finish my memoirs. About her.
When I was in college, I worked at a place called The Writing Center. I've never felt so useful, needed, grown up, or responsible at a job as I did at The Writing Center (although, humorously enough, my favorite job was actually at a coffee shop, where I worked prior to The Writing Center). It is thanks to The Writing Center that I became a designer, blogger, editor, grammarian, and pretty much everything else I do related to writing. It is thanks to one of my coworkers that I became an Apple lover and learned about computers. If you can believe it, prior to The Writing Center, I used to be kind of scared of computers.
Anyway, I worked as a Digital Peer Consultant, which means that I was qualified to help you with your digital projects as well as your traditional ones. You, as a student, faculty, or staff at Michigan State University could come in with anything you wanted (resume, essay, powerpoint presentation, thesis) at whatever stage you wanted (brainstorming, editing, proof-reading) and get whatever help you wanted (Is it logical? How are my transitions? What is a thesis statement?). We also did classroom-based presentations and workshops, and I eventually got pretty good at standing up in front of a hundred underclassmen and talking about how to write a paper. My least favorite person to work with the entire time I was there was this middle eastern graduate student working on his thesis for his Ph.D. who was fully convinced that women were foolish imbeciles. I got stuck working with him one afternoon when he came in without an appointment and all of our male consultants were busy. I couldn't tell this man where to put a comma without getting the third degree. When we completed the session, he announced that he was going to book an appointment with a male consultant to go over everything we just did. Peachy.
My second least favorite person to work with was me.
You see, I'm what is called in this buiz "married to my work," and people who are married to their work a really
1. Think everything they write/edit is excellent
2. Think editing it your way would make it bad
3. Thank what they intended to say is perfectly clear and you're an aberration if you don't get it
4. Can also be perfectionistic, which is an annoying combination to have
I think being married to one's work is really a defense mechanism. If everything you say is perfect and no one else get's it, you won't get hurt when they suggest an edit because clearly they don't get what you were trying to say.
Ugh. Now, any volunteers want to help me edit this thing?
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Moving on. For those of you who only read my blog to hear about my small and adorable child...
Abigail is so obsessed with being helpful that she'll pull my clothes out of my dresser one-by-one and bring them to me. Even if I'm in another room. I think this is her way of doing the laundry on non-laundry days. The laundry is pretty much her favorite-ever chore.
We're all sick over here. Like congestion, runny nose, and coughing. Plus I still haven't figured out what
Anyway, we're doing a whole lotta this:
And my house is pretty much a mosh pit of blankets, stuffed animals, and books. Abigail's a big fan of an old Cat Fancy magazine I found. And yes, I now realize that is a copy of Anne Frank half hiding underneath that blanket. Kid likes to steal books and run away with them so I don't catch her. Lastly, if you know what that blue and white cat-looking thing is, I think you're way cool.
I managed to throw up a few fall decorations (haha, get the sick reference there? Totally didn't intend that. My bad). We don't like to spend money on non-essentials, so a vast majority of our five fall decorations are things I made with clearance and coupon items last year and the year before. We also only have fall and Christmas decorations. Sorry, Easter.
And, just for the heck of it, we have a Chicago city flag.
Most people who come over think it's a religious flag. Not sure if it's just because we're religious or if they get the stars mixed up with Israel's flag. (Israel is the #1 guess). But it's not. It's a Chicago city flag. I wonder what all the people who walk by our apartment outside and peak in think of us. Maybe we're the religious fanatics of the complex and I didn't even know it.
Lastly, a video of Abigail saying her first word, which she did about a week-ish ago, before we all got sick.