NaNoWriMo

For once, I actually remembered that November is National Novel Writing Month before it happened! So, I've signed up for NaNoWriMo, which challenges everyone and anyone to write a 175-page novel in thirty days. The idea is that if you've got a deadline, both for time and for word count, you'll get over your fears, hesitations, and perfectionism problems, and just bang out something that might be crappy, but it's an actual finished product that you can work with and edit. Since I started working on a young adult novel a few weeks ago, and since I promised that Amy's epic birthday present fanfiction would be finished by Halloween, this year seemed like the perfect time to join the crowd of folks writing frantically this month. So look for periodic word count updates from me!

The Highlights of My Day in Media Services

I Heart Media Services: A Play in Five Acts
by Rachel Hochberg

Act One

My supe: When you deliver that TV to E209, the professor wants a Helping Hand.
Me: He doesn't know how to use a TV?
My supe: I guess not.
~In the classroom~
Professor: So, I'm going to give you the tape...
Me: *puts the tape in; it plays automatically* Is this at the right spot?
Professor: Yes.
Me: *stops tape* Ok, you're all set then.
Professor: So I just press play?
Me: Yep.

Act Two

My supe: Can you go back to E209? The professor says his tape is jammed in the VCR and it's not responding.
Me: Ok. *arrives at the classroom, which is empty--the professor has gone on break along with his class*
Me: Huh. Well. *checks TV and VCR*
Professor: *arriving at last* It's not working.
Me: It is now. The TV wasn't on.
Professor: Oh. But I didn't touch it.
Me: Maybe it has a sleep function. (Yeah right.) But it's all set now, you just have to press play.
Professor: What do I do if this happens again?
Me: *after a moment of silence* Hit the Power button. Right there.
Professor: The Power button...okay. Okay.

Act Three

My supe: Can you go to W201? The professor is having trouble getting the volume to work.
Me: Ok. Maybe it's that problem where we have to unplug everything and stuff.
~In the classroom~
Me: Hi, you were having a volume problem?
Professor (who is doing something unrelated to class on her laptop): Yeah, I can't get it loud enough.
Me: *looks at volume control--it's only up a quarter of the way* Um... *turns volume up using the clearly marked button that says Volume with an up arrow; volume level rises, video of Chinese opera is loud and clear* The volume wasn't up high enough.
Professor (not bothering to look at me when she speaks): Ok, thanks.

Act Four

Professor (in the office): Hi. I have a class two days a week in P209, and I want to use the DVD player next week, but the touch panel wasn't working today.
Me: Ok, we'll check it out for you later today.
Professor: Thanks. *wanders out with an air of confusion*
Me: Amy, this dude says his touch panel wasn't working. So I'll go check it out later.
Amy: Hey, that room is where my class is in fifteen minutes. I'll look when I get up there.
Me: Okay.
~A few mintues later~
*The phone rings*
Me: Hello, Media Services, Rachel speaking.
Amy: Hey, it's me. Are you sure that guy said P209?
Me: Yeah.
Amy: Well, there's nothing wrong with the touch panel, it's working fine.
Me: Ok. Then he's just dumb.
Amy: You're having a bad day, aren't you ?
Me: Yeah.

Act Five

My supe: The professor in E209 just sent a student to call us again, because the TV turned itself off. Then while I was on the phone with the student, he pressed the Power button and it came back on.
Me: *wants to throw things*

Pantsless Guitar Hero?

So, the folks in the apartment above us have weekend parties. Sometimes it's the kind of party that sounds like it should be happening in a frat house, and sometimes it's just loud music and yelling, but there's always BANGING. Jumping up and down, running, leaping, moshing, what have you. It's excessive, loud, and disturbing to the bunny.

Tonight I reached my limit. It's Sunday night, and yeah, tomorrow's a holiday, but still. Amy determined after some consideration that they were playing Guitar Hero, which would explain the bad music, the worse singing, and all the rhythmic jumping. At some point the jumping reached a previously untapped level of insanity, and the plaster started to come down in little flakes from the kitchen ceiling, which is clearly beyond the pale, so I put on some sweats and went upstairs. I had to actually hold their door closed in order to knock on it, because it was unlocked, and I thought it would be rude to just walk in. So, after much knocking on my part, I heard someone at the door, and figured they must be looking through the peep hole. This is how it went down inside--and keep in mind, I could hear all of this.

"Dude, it's your neighbor."
(over the crazy music) "What?"
"Dude, it's your NEIGHBOR!"
"My neighbor?" (many other exclamations of NEIGHBOR from the other partiers)
"The one who thought we were her pizza!" (a sad tale of mistaken delivery and doorbell ringing)
(music is turned off, much scrambling around and frantic whispering ensues)
"Dude, you have to answer the door. You have to put on pants and answer the door."
"Make Courtney answer the door!"
(more whispering; door opens, and there stands Courtney, with crazy pale face and bloodshot eyes that don't quite focus on me, wearing a long sleeved shirt and BOXER SHORTS)
"Hey, you're the neighbor who thought we were pizza."
"Yeah, I live in the apartment underneath this one, and I don't care about the noise or whatever, but the jumping up and down is making the plaster come down in our kitchen."
"Oh! Oh no! We'll stop jumping up and down. Of course. You don't want damage. I'm so sorry. We'll stop singing."
"Really, I don't care about the noise, it's fine, just no jumping."
"Ok, no jumping."
(with emphatic hand motions) "Right, NO JUMPING."
"Ok. Have a good night."
(door closes, but I can still hear them clearly)
"Okay guys, NO JUMPING. NO MORE JUMPING. The plaster is coming down in her apartment."
"Seriously?? Oh my God! NO MORE JUMPING!"