Zesty Enterprise

Heads up

2006-11-22T20:05:00.000-08:00

Hi friends!

For the last couple of months I've been working with the goddess Karen of Troll Baby Graphics on a beautiful new blog design. She's also helping me to finally put on my big girl pants and step it up to WordPress. Aren't you so impressed?

There's a new URL in store, as well. I think I'll have a redirect or at the very least a link to the new digs. PLEASE follow me. Have I mentioned how good you look today? Really. Have you lost weight?

So if something goes wonky in the next few days, it's just us fiddling around. But if you clicked here and the magic has somehow already happened in the series of tubes and you were startled by the unfamiliar, yet visually pleasing new look, I do apologize.

Happy Thanksgiving, everyone!

She knows me too well.

2006-11-19T17:37:00.000-08:00

SB and I go to my parent's house for breakfast most sunday mornings. Today when we arrived, my mom must have noticed our wondering glances at the strange bundle hanging from the swing-y chair thing.

Apparently, a conversation like this had just taken place:

Mom: I need you to put the turkey in the pool house fridge to start thawing.

Dad: It won't fit. It's full of beer.

Mom: Well, take some out.

Dad: What?!

So, she hung it outside, like in days of yore.

I took a picture of it as we were leaving. We were just backing down the driveway when my phone started to ring. It was my mom calling to explicitly tell me that she didn't want the turkey on my blog for all the world to see.

No one who will be eating the turkey reads my blog and I happen to find this hilarious, so she can stuff it. (Ha! Turkey humor!)

Perhaps her righteous indignation will inspire her to figure out how to leave a comment.

Hee hee! I feel like such a stinker! She only reads every couple of weeks so now I have to wait patiently for her to discover my betrayal.

Parking Lot Beauty

2006-11-17T21:25:00.000-08:00

It's been raining heavily for approximately the last year and a half.

It rained all morning, and it's raining right now.

But this afternoon, for just a few minutes, it stopped.

...cue angel chorus

Mixed Merry Emotions

2006-11-16T20:08:00.000-08:00

I LOVE the holidays. I can't wait for all the wonderful christmass-y things to come. Ooh! I get to decorate my house for the first time! We'll get our first full sized tree!

I'm also looking forward to all the events. We always go to the Christmas choir concert at the ole alma matter, we'll see the Christmas themed show at the local theater, and I'm sure there will be a party or two.

Then there's the little things. The egg nog latte in a festive red cup, watching A Chistmas Story whenever I get the opportnity, and the music, of course. I love Christmas music. (Just the standards, though. I hate those shmarmy original ballads that all artists feel compelled to include on their Christmas CDs)

This season though, I'm feeling a little icky about the present part. I feel SO INCREDIBLY BLESSED already, and I don't need any more stuff. And while it's really fun to buy things for some people, I'm just feeling crappy about the obligation of it all. And stressed out about money! Under normal circumstances I have plenty of guilt about spending money, but now I'm unemployed! Gah! It is so NOT in the spirit of the season to guiltily purchase an obliation gift.

I wish I could have all the family togetherness, all the tradition and ritual and festive-ness, but no presents. What would be really cool is if we could all contribute half of the money we would have over spent on presents and buy someone in southeast asia a cow.

Or a pig. Or a water buffalo.

SB's with me, and so is my mom, actually. I don't think we could ever convince the others, though. Am I utterly lame? It's sort of wierd to be all gung ho about everything Christmas except the presents, I guess.

An Embarassing Display

2006-11-14T21:46:00.000-08:00

This is our nook in the living room. What a lovely craftsman detail, you may be thinking. Yes, yes it is. It's also a lot of stinking pressure.

Those would be my birthday cards. While I love birthdays and have been known to stretch them out as long as possible, my birthday was SIX MONTHS AGO. My cards are still sitting there, partly because they are pretty and are not in the way, but mostly because we can't for the life of us decide what the hell to put there.

We definitely want some piece of art, but what? It needs to fill the space and be attractive, but it also can't be too loud or dominating, otherwise, it stops being the living room and starts being THE ROOM FOR DISPLAYING THE CARVED WOODEN STATUE GUY. You know what I mean? Because of it's prominence, it's also hard to just fill it with some lovely, culture appropriating piece of art from World Market or whatever, because we aren't Buddhists, for instance.

We thought about putting in shelves and making it a bar, but again, do we want A BAR on constant display in our living room? With no cabinet or anything?

Any ideas would be appreciated. The birthday cards have to come down sometime.

Half an hour to kill in the dollar store.

2006-11-12T18:54:00.000-08:00

We had to get a tire replaced on the car yesterday and were told it would take about half an hour. The waiting area of the tire place was pretty depressing (fuzzy football game on the TV, pamphlets about tire care, the air so thick with that chemical-y rubber smell you could hardly breathe, you know), so we decided to go check out the dollar store across the parking lot.

Somehow we managed to entertain ourselves.

I kinda doubt the sanctity of a dollar store nativity scene. Let's just say they weren't displayed with a whole lot of reverence.

$1 Baby Jesuses
Originally uploaded by picture_ho.

The Joseph looked like a badass. He seemed to be some sort of bow staff fighter.

Bring it.
Originally uploaded by picture_ho.

Eventually we made it to the "food" section where we started to to play the "How much money would someone have to pay you to eat this" game.

Diabetes, anyone?
Originally uploaded by picture_ho.

In case you're interested, SB would go no lower then $500.

442g of sugar
Originally uploaded by picture_ho.

Reality?

2006-11-10T14:07:00.000-08:00

I think I've mentioned before that SB owns an extras casting agency. I'm no actress, but as I've been sort of, how do you say, unemployed lately, I've asked him to send me on a few jobs. Extras are actually just paid scenery, and since SB's job is to provide the required number of warm bodies, not make anyone a star, it's okay that he sends me, and not a real actress.

The kind of thing he usually does is provide say, 25 people to be in the background of a Taco Time commercial. Sometimes it's something cool like providing 50 people to ride the "ferryboat" in the background of a scene for Grey's Anatomy.

Last week, he was asked to find 25 people to act as sports fans for four hours, for $120. I was all over that one.

The shocking/funny/ironic part of this whole thing is that this turned out to be for a REALITY SHOW. Myself and 24 others were paid to go batshit crazy when a retired NBA star and his glamorous wife walked into a room OVER AND OVER AGAIN. Not only that, there were several principal actors there playing fans who actually got to ask him for his autograph. There was the model-y hot chick, the sassy black woman, the flaming gay dude, and my favorite, a cute little boy who got to say,

"I made this for you Mr. FamousBasketballPlayer,"

Mr. FBP: "Oh wow, thanks man."

Cute little boy: "I still like Kobe better, though"

Mr. FBP: Man! That's cold! Did you hear what he said?

Mr. FBP's entourage: Ha Ha Ha! Ha ha ha!

OVER AND OVER AGAIN.

Isn't that nuts? How hilarious is it that they had to pay people to be his fans? How crazy is it that the people who actually got to interact with him were ACTORS? Reality schmeality.

Below is a picture of the card I was given to pretend I wanted him to sign. Others were given shoes or jerseys, and they even handed out a bunch of disposable cameras for the crazed fans to snap away with.

(So, I sort of signed a non disclosure agreement that said I wasn't going to tell anyone about this, hence the cover up. Shh. Don't tell.)

Reality TV is one of those love it or hate it kind of things. I mostly hate it, though I did enjoy the first season of Survivor, and I've been known to indulge in a Real World marathon or two. While I knew that they cut and paste "reality" to tell whatever story they're going for, I didn't realize it could be THIS contrived. I guess I should just be happy that actors are still getting work out of the deal.

Voting is so cool.

2006-11-07T22:23:00.000-08:00

I love my polling place. I'm still regstered at my parent's house, and I know I should change it, but it's just so perfect.

It's very old timey. Inside is a hall with shiny hardwood floors, yellowish lighting, and the requisite friendly old lady poll workers. When I'm finished and I've proudly applied my sticker, I always look around for some reason to stay a little longer. It's very god bless america.

I feel something strange and fluttery and unfamiliar in my chest. Could it be hope? It occurs to me now just how politically defeated I've felt for so long. I didn't believe this could really happen. I didn't think it would be ALLOWED to happen.

Today was a good day.

Nancy Pelosi makes history and Brittney files for divorce.

CAN YOU EVEN BELIEVE IT?

Dude. Stop for a second and think how much it would have blown your mind if someone had told you this would happen 6 months ago.

More fun with catalogues

2006-11-03T14:17:00.000-08:00

You may have noticed I like to mock snooty catalogues. It's so fun! You should try it. I's a nice little activity when you know you can't actually BUY anything from said catalogue.

This here is a cashmere covered hot water bottle found in the new Restoration Hardware.

This is a $15,000 couch, found in the same catalogue.

Now I ask you, what is a hot water bottle for? They're for old drafty shacks. If Pa can't be bothered to get up and stoke the fire, you take this here bag of hot water to bed with you so you don't freeze to death in the middle of the night.

Do people who buy $15,000 couches also buy hot water bottles? Cashmere covered or no? Somehow I doubt it.

Happy Halloween!

2006-10-31T14:20:00.000-08:00

Have you ever heard of Sheri Moon Zombie? Or Baby Firefly? Me neither, but my sister entered a contest to dress like her and she won the grand prize*!

Here's what she was going for:

She and my mom made the costume and the backdrop. Neato, eh?

Underneath that tough cop exterior still lurks my quirky little sister and it warms my heart on this All Hallow's Eve. She said she might even trick or treat at my house tonight in her other silly costume. I bet she'll be too busy, though.

* an autographed picture of Sheri Moon Zombie and something from her clothing line. Hey, she's excited.

Island Fever

2006-10-30T14:17:00.000-08:00

When I started this blog, I thought I would be frequently posting about home improvement projects, but that hasn't happened so much. The last real project we did was the patio and that was way back in April.

Well, we're back on our home improvement horses. Look what we did!

We paid a friend of ours to build us a kitchen island. Here it is when we first moved it in, with tiles strewn about.

Then there was the glueing part. See the cool lighter colored accent pieces spread throughout? Actually, the tiles didn't fit right by one inch on all the vertical rows. So, we cut a couple of tiles down into one inch pieces and voila! Looks like we did it on purpose!

I did the glueing part all by myself, which I am totally glad about because I was able to be as anal as I wanted to be with the tile placement. I went through the box and picked out all the prettiest ones. When I placed them, I would fish through and make sure the colors were evenly distributed. If I had had help, you know I would have been mocked and ultimately I would have given up on it.

Then there was the grouting part. We chose a grout in "haystack", which I thought was going to be a bit darker, but it is actually a nice tan. Whoever did the tile on our countertops used WHITE grout which was a BAD idea. It always looks dirty. I guess I want my grout to hide the dirt. (which is sounding gross all of a sudden, but you know what I mean)

Ta Da! Isn't it pretty? It's not quite finished. I am incredibly blessed with handy parents. My dad is going to drill through the floor and plumb a dish washer for that hole in the front and my mom is going to wire us a plug-in on the back side.

And then we had friends over and there was somewhere to stand and lean in the kitchen and all was well.

Here's a funny for you.

2006-10-24T16:53:00.000-07:00

God, I love reading good blogs.

This post by Dad Gone Mad just made my day.

In fact, I just spent an embarrassing amount of time over there, laughing my ass off. I even read a couple of posts aloud to SB.

Go check him out if you're not somewhere you might get busted.

Unintentionally hilarious

2006-10-23T20:57:00.000-07:00

Did anyone see this story about George Michael on MSN? Apparently, George likes to puff the magic dragon, if you know what I mean. Of course you do.

“I’d say it’s a great drug — but obviously it’s not very healthy. You can’t afford to smoke it if you’ve got anything to do.”

Brilliant commentary upon celebrity, George*.

* say what you will about George and his habits, but Faith is still one of the best albums of all time. Also, remember that closet door poster in leather and denim? Of course you do.

I. want. to. BE a part of it...

2006-10-20T14:21:00.000-07:00

Is there anything more exciting than having an e-ticket stuck to your fridge?

Fridge
Originally uploaded by picture_ho.

Look closer...

Yippeeeeee!
Originally uploaded by picture_ho.

Yay! SB and I are spending New Year's in NEW YORK CITY, BABY! (Well, to be more accurate, Queens) I'm so freaking pumped. I LOVE New York. I can't wait to walk and walk and walk in the greatest city in the world. It'll be ass cold, but I'll have a coat and a stylish scarf and I'll stop for coffee at one of those little stands and warm my hands around a cup with playing cards on the side. I'll ride the subway (our friends live near the last stop on the N train) and spy on all the different kinds of people who seem to have forgotten they live in such a thrilling place.

So. Excited.

____________

Someone smashed three of my pumpkins last night. It made a huge mess because only one of them had been carved. The others spilled guts and seeds all over the place. I know it's just kids and it's not a big deal, and frankly, it's surprising it hasn't happened before now, but I still feel a little sad. Fuckers.

I rule.

2006-10-18T17:15:00.000-07:00

We moved into our house 9 months ago now. By all outward appearances, our home is tidy and organized.

(cue scary music)

UNLESS you open the guest room closet...

Those would be the last few boxes of unnecessary shit that we haven't touched since we moved. Oh, and my wedding dress.

Yesterday morning, I decided I needed to access my Giant Box of Memorabilia, which I thought was within reach. I shoved a few things aside, but I still couldn't get to it. I was afraid to go too far in, lest I be attacked and eaten by god knows what.

'Clean out guest room closet' has been on my To Do list for at least 8 months but I've been too scared. (Also, lazy.) Aren't those last few boxes in any move the worst? By the time you packed them, you were way past organizing and well into shoving. There was no telling what was in there, but one thing was for certain, it was ALL CRAP.

So, yesterday, I just decided to go for it. I don't know what got into me.

Here we are midway through, after the closest had spewed it's insides all over the formally neat guest room.

Ta da! Look at it! Can you believe it? I got rid of two big boxes of trash and took an entire car load of stuff to the Goodwill. (Bonus points or actually TAKING it there, and not letting it sit in the entryway for a week, then shoving it all back in.)

Who knew it was so spacious! I think we can almost call this a 4th bedroom now.

Look ye also

2006-10-13T15:51:00.000-07:00

The wonder of the world, the beauty and the power, the shapes of things, their colors, lights, and shades, these I saw. Look ye also while life lasts.

- gravestone, Cumberland, England.

10/13/06
Originally uploaded by picture_ho.

10/13/06
Originally uploaded by picture_ho.

Happy beautiful fall Friday!

TeeVee Schmeevee

2006-10-11T13:15:00.000-07:00

SB and I are currrently about halfway through the second season of Grey's Anatomy on DVD. So many people are watching it, SB's extras casting agency provides their extras, and of course it's kinda cool when a show takes place in your area, so yeah, we are finally watching it.

Do any of y'all? It's funny the Seattle things they get right, and the things they don't. No one says "ferryboat". No one drinks "mochalattes". It's a ferry, and it's either a mocha or a latte, not both. There is also far too much thunder and ligtning and the rain is all wrong. It hardly ever thunders and lightnings here, and our rain is more of a consistent mist or a gentle shower. The rain on Grey's is too big. However, you know when they have scenes in front of those big windows on that walkway, and it's a bright grey day outside over a green valley? That's just right.
____________

We don't have TV, well clearly we HAVE a TV, but we don't have channels. Haven't for years. Because of this, we haven't watched a show week by week in ages. The first show we watched on DVD was Alias. It was pleasingly crack-y with plenty of hot outfits and ass kicking, but I didn't KNOW crack until LOST. It's on tonight, but we will have to wait until tomorrow to see it online.

Who's watching it? I know Jill and lsgp are. Anyone else?
____________

apropros of nothing...

Yummy.

Miracles do happen.

2006-10-04T13:30:00.000-07:00

I have previously bitched about my neighbor and his habit of not finishing projects, but that is not what I have come here to write about today.

GET. THE FUCK. OUT.

My mind is blown.
Originally uploaded by picture_ho.

Just in case you need to be reminded what it looked like before:

Late August
Originally uploaded by picture_ho.

So, yes, dear neighbor, I bow down in praise to your greatness. I hope that people can still find our house with out the falling down shack next door to guide them.

Just a couple of weeks ago, I had the opposite problem. A friend came up from Portland to visit who had only been here once before. "Sorry I'm late," she said, "I had to drive around the block. I didn't remember the house next door to you being so..." Politeness kept her from finishing the sentence. I will have to warn her next time.

Various weekend observations

2006-10-02T13:20:00.000-07:00

I carry my camera with me everywhere so I have it whenever I see something shocking, like this:

"Personal Massager"
Originally uploaded by picture_ho.

All I can say is, yay for Walgreen's! I'm glad that one's needs for a "personal massager" can now be met while buying toothpaste or Pull-ups, apparently.

___________

Saturday morning, SB and I went to our favorite little cafe for coffee and Stranger reading. We are lazy gits, however, so "morning" to us was nearly noon. While we waited our turn, we observed a lady being totally bitchy to the poor barrista, and tantruming over the lack of bagels. SB and I noted loudly to ourselves that perhaps it is not unsusual for a cafe to be out of bagels at NOON and that probably the people who got here at 8:00 enjoyed bagels a plenty. I don't think she heard us, though.

After handsomely tipping said abused barrista, we got settled with our coffees and papers. That is when my eyes fell upon the most hideous handbag I had ever seen hanging over the back of a nearby chair.

Yikes
Originally uploaded by picture_ho.

It belonged to the bitch. I'm not sure the picture even does it justice. In fact, it was SO UGLY that upon closer inspection, I'm thinking it's probably Gucci or something and that she paid big for the privelage of carrying such a fugly bag. Anyway, I'm not sure where I'm going with this, but bad manners and hideous accessories went hand and hand at the cafe on Saturday.

__________

My Martha Porch
Originally uploaded by picture_ho.

Ooooh! I decorated my porch! So fun!

I just don't understand.

2006-09-28T17:02:00.000-07:00

This old thing?
Originally uploaded by picture_ho.

How much do you think this skirt is? Go on, guess. When I played this game with SB, I could tell he thought he was guessing super high when he said $200.

It's $1500. FIFTEEN HUNDRED DOLLARS.

This is what I don't get. Do people who buy $1500 skirts even shop at jcrew? I sort of doubt it. If they do, maybe it's like Target for them. Like, "Oh, I need a cheap new top to wear, I'll just grab this $200 cashmere t-shirt. It'll do."

Madame Speaker

2006-09-27T13:09:00.000-07:00

Yes, Madame Speaker. If things go well in November (by well, I mean the Dems pick up 15 seats in the house) Nancy Pelosi will ascend to Speaker of the House, the first woman to do so. Did you hear that? A woman, a kickass italian grandmother at that, will be second in line for the presidency.

Don't believe me? I don't blame you. It's pretty shocking, I know. Here is an artical from Time outlining the particulars. Basically, she rules. She's tough and fiesty, and from what I can tell, a REAL-type person. She has been beating the GOP in their own game lately by promoting an unprecedented party unity. She's walking her talk, too. Her PAC has given nearly half a million dollars to federal candidates this election cycle alone.

I have been so incredibly disillusioned about politics since the 2004 elections, and even though I love Maria, I haven't gotten too excited by the midterms. It's been a long time since I felt like I could believe in a politician.

Anyway, reading about Nancy brightens my day and I hope it does yours, as well.

Madame Speaker
Originally uploaded by picture_ho.

An ode to the Puyallup

2006-09-25T18:59:00.000-07:00

purty
Originally uploaded by picture_ho.

Over the weekend, SB and I visited the Puyallup Fair. If you're not so blessed as to be from this little corner of the world, the theme song may not be indelibly burned into your memory...

(to a hokey tune)

You can do at a trot,
you can do it at a gallup.
You can do it real slow
so your heart won't palpitate,
just don't be late.
Do the Puyallup
Do the Puyallup

Hmm. All of a sudden that's sounding a bit dirty to me, but no matter, the Fair is AWESOME! Ahh.. the memories I have of the Fair. We used to get a half day off from school to go. Oh how grown-up we would feel, walking there from school, for hours of unsupervised squeeling and junk consumption. I held hands with a boy for the first time at the Fair, and I was asked to Homecoming on the skyride.

It gets a little bigger, a little louder, and a little more infested with hottub displays each year, but the highlights remain, helping me to remember the magic.

My favorite thing to eat at the Fair is definitely the caramel apples. I know there are fancy stores in the mall where you can buy caramel apples all year, but it's totally not the same. And you have to buy them from the red and black stand that looks like a train car, or you risk ending up with a substandard red, mushy disappointment under that delicious caramel. The red and black stand uses Granny Smiths. I usually eat at least two.

Close behind the caramel apples in tastiness are the KRUSTY PUPS. This is no ordinary corndog. Thick, crispy, salty dough surrounds a melt your face off hot hotdog. I would NEVER eat a corndog. Please. (amusing sidenote: Officer Sister was once fired from the Krusty Pup stand for not being cheerful enough. HA!)

Fuck yea-ah-ah!
Originally uploaded by picture_ho.

A definite highlight of any Fair expereince is the brush with death that is The Big Roller Coaster. It was built in 1935 and it looks rickety as all get out, but it's pure fun. You scream and laugh and cramp your face from smiling, you just can't help it. It costs 6 tickets to go these days, about $5.00, but it's worth every penny.

While searching online for historical information, I found THIS KICKASS VIDEO OF THE BIG ROLLER COASTER!!!! I love the internets!

It's the one in the back.
Originally uploaded by picture_ho.

I would go to the Fair for the animals and the produce murals alone, but they, unfortunately, make for boring blog fodder. I took about a hundred artsy-fartsy pictures which I will not bore you with. Instead, I will share a few interesting/informative/funny scenes from the unparalelled, 7th largest in the great US of A, Puyallup Fair. Enjoy!

"Fact"
Originally uploaded by picture_ho.

Get your faux endangered species pelts here
Originally uploaded by picture_ho.

Don't put pee pee in here
Originally uploaded by picture_ho.

Up close and personal with piggy teat
Originally uploaded by picture_ho.

Tammi and Stan - you know they throw the best parties.
Originally uploaded by picture_ho.

I cracked.

2006-09-23T14:21:00.000-07:00

I know you have all been RIVETED by my hair growing process, but I had to do it.

Behold! The longest my hair will ever be for the rest of my life. I surrender to the gods of hair growth. I haven't the strength to persevere through years of middle stages.

Before...
Originally uploaded by picture_ho.

SO MUCH BETTER.
Originally uploaded by picture_ho.

The back:

It's really hard to take a picture of the back of your head.
Originally uploaded by picture_ho.

The thing about long hair is, it's pretty and all, but it looks shite on day two without serious maitenance. Yesterday was a day two day with short hair and I got compliments, even after a sweaty bike ride.

I know it's probably silly or vain, but I just FEEL more put together when I LOOK more put together. I think I'm probably way to anal for hair that doesn't all have a place to go, you know?

Anyway, I'm LOVING IT. Yay!

Mistaken Identity

2006-09-22T14:29:00.000-07:00

I received the following text message from lawstudentguyperson last evening:

I command you to blog! And mention me.

Well, that's done.

Seriously though, thanks lsgp, and thank you, dear friends, for bothering to come back here after such a lengthy absence.

____________

Something pretty funny happened this morning as SB and I were heading off on our bikes to The Mandolin Cafe to enjoy the delicious coffee and wi-fi access.

We were just leaving the house, all geeked out with our helmets on and laptops secured to our bike baskets, when this smooth looking dude (black guy in a swank outfit, flash sunglasses, a Swisher Sweet clutched beween his thumb and forefinger) shouted, 'Hey!' and we turned to see what he wanted.

SLD: Hey! You the scout?

SB: What?

SLD: Are you the scout from the fight last night?

(cars are going by, making this whole situation even harder to understand)

SB: I'm sorry, what?

SLD: Are you the scout?

SB: Like a boy scout?

(This made sense at the time. SB is in fact an eagle scout and has been asked by a lady in the neighborhood to help out with the Boy Scouts. SLD was standing near her house.)

SLD: No! From the fight! Last night I talked to someone who lived up in here at the fight about one of my fighters.

Me: (laughing pretty hard. Here is what SB looked like at the time, just to make it clear how much he did NOT look like a scout for fighters or whatever.)

Dangerous.
Originally uploaded by picture_ho.

SB: No, that wasn't me.

SLD: Oh, well he won!

SB: Congratulations!

SLD: You have a nice day.

SB: You too!

We laughed about this for a good five minutes. You gotta love the random interaction with interesting strangers.

Yaaawwwwwwwwn

2006-09-19T17:02:00.000-07:00

Hi! I'm having an attack of the borings. I'll be back with more delightful musings soon I hope. I have ordered this book, that I'm hoping will inspire blogtastic greatness. We'll see.

It's a weird thing to have a desire to write but nothing to say. Please stay tuned and thank you for spending part of your internet day here.

Okay, there was one other thing I bought at the Barn Sale.

2006-09-11T23:00:00.000-07:00

This is totally embarrassing. I can't believe I'm posting this temporary insanity upon the internets, but for some reason, I feel the need to confess.

I bought this cute little wooden music box airplane, too.

Awww.
Originally uploaded by picture_ho.

For my baby's room. My fictional, someday baby. Fictional Someday Baby is a boy, apparently.

I don't know what came over me. There I was, scanning the myriad junk piles for treasures, when I saw the little plane, and I lost my damn mind. I gave the key a few turns, the melody tinkled merrily, the little propeller rotated sweetly, and I decided it was the perfect little thing for Fictional Someday Baby's little room.

It is clear I've gone nuts. Perhaps I AM thinking a little more seriously about babies.

No worries, though, because apparently, Old Navy is having a baby sale! I'll take the brown one, please.

25% off selected styles
Originally uploaded by picture_ho.

Barn Sale

2006-09-10T21:25:00.000-07:00

This weekend was The Barn Sale out on Fox Island.

I made many scores. I got some old antique-y but useful garden tools, two 50's-ish metal TV trays that I am going to use for plant stands, various other bits and bobs, and this sweet platter.

Cool Orange Platter
Originally uploaded by picture_ho.

The most awesomest thing I found, though, was definitey this:

Such a score.
Originally uploaded by picture_ho.

Don't you want to peek inside?

Yum Yum!
Originally uploaded by picture_ho.

Richard has all kinds of tips for healthy living, including these face exercises:

Face Exercises
Originally uploaded by picture_ho.

And these exercises for your other face:

Tootsie Rolls
Originally uploaded by picture_ho.

Got a diet, or, excuse me, live-it question? Richard is here to help!

Crossdressing Richard
Originally uploaded by picture_ho.

I wonder what ever happened to ol' Richard. I haven't seen him around for ages. Is he dead? I hope not.

Lay Off Maria

2006-09-07T13:26:00.000-07:00

The liberals are pissing me off. It seems like we cannot be happy with anything we have. A prime example of this is all the flack Maria Cantwell has been getting lately.

We HAVE to move past the war vote. Maria could have run naked through the Senate with her hair on fire screaming, "Attack Iraq? No!" and it wouldn't have made any difference. So why condemn her for voting in favor? Do we really want to dispose of every democrat who voted for the war? What's done is done.

I wish she had voted against the war, of course I do. But she also has to represent her entire state. We have quite a few military bases in Washington and a big giant red eastside. She represents more than just the Seattle hippies.

There is so much more to worry about in the world, and this state. I can't believe anyone is willing to toss her out just over the war. She has kicked ass in so many other areas. Even The Stranger who has been bashing her left and right, admits she has done well:

Cantwell is outstanding on environmental issues (Arctic National Wildlife Refuge, fuel-efficiency standards, Bush's attempted giveaway to oil companies), women's reproductive rights (she voted nay on the U.S. Supreme Court confirmations of John Roberts and Samuel Alito, and against the recent parental-notification bill), and corporate accountability (she led the fight for campaign finance reform). Most impressive, she didn't take the bait on the GOP's recent ploy to eliminate the estate tax.

I'm just so tired of listening to liberals rip apart a fine Senator. Please! She kicks ass! She is doing WELL. I can't help but think every time I hear someone harp on the war issue, or claim she has recently changed her tune just because of Lieberman's loss, that somehow they are playing into some evil republican spin machine plot. That's right...she voted for the war...she is bad...must replace her...you are getting sleepy...wouldn't you rather vote for Hong Tran?...who?...

We have to get serious. I am all for keeping our elected officials honest and not just handing them their seats back, but come on. Maria is an asset to the state and the democratic party and I am proud that she is my first yard sign.

My first yard sign.
Originally uploaded by picture_ho.

Scenes from Labor Day Weekend

2006-09-06T11:31:00.000-07:00

The summer is soon going to abandon us to grey skies and rain for 8 months, so I rounded up the fam for a night of AAA Baseball. A highlight of the evening was definitely hearing the announcer exitedly inform us that it was time for the Harborstone Credit Union BALL BLAST. Heh heh. The Rainiers lost to the Tuscon Sidewinders 6-5.

Tacoma Rainiers
Originally uploaded by picture_ho.

Yum!
Originally uploaded by picture_ho.

She is laughing because I had just told her a funny joke.*

Me and Officer Sister
Originally uploaded by picture_ho.

Speaking of summer leaving us...

Yes, really.
Originally uploaded by picture_ho.

As seen at Costco, Sunday morning, September 3rd. That's right. Christmas decorations and wrapping paper.

And things were going so well. *sigh*

Uh Oh.
Originally uploaded by picture_ho.

* What did one ass cheek say to the other ass cheek? --- If we stick together we can stop this shit. HA!

Zzzzzz

2006-09-01T21:40:00.000-07:00

So, I'm not working right now*. I am not freaking out yet, though, because I still have a month of pay from j-o-b. It has been almost a month since I quit. I hardly noticed with all the summer activities going on, until this week. I got bored.

Accept for yoga**, I've left the house twice. We went to a movie, and I did one afternoon of training up in Seattle. I've been getting lots of little annoying things done and I've continued my cooking spree. But now, I am bored. And boring! I need to leave the house for blog fodder, at the very least!

I have decided that next week I shall BEGIN A PROJECT. Paint the bedroom? Organize the basement (or abyss of random shit)? Stay tuned.

This evening I actually got dressed and ventured from my hobbit hole to take my mom out for dinner for her birthday with Officer Sister. It's hot and lovely here today, the kind of proper summer heat that I know I probably won't feel again for another 10 months, so we went down to the water front.

My mom is so cute. She gets so excited to hang out with us it makes me feel bad that we don't take her out more often.

Mmmmm. Cucumber Mojitos.
Originally uploaded by picture_ho.

Tacoma prettiness
Originally uploaded by picture_ho.

* I knew when I quit there may be some time before I was placed on a project. It's cool.

** which I attended 5 times this week. I rule.

Knock Knock

2006-08-31T09:05:00.000-07:00

While I realize that it's not very nice to make fun of someone else's religion, it's also not very nice to knock on someone's door before 9 am to chat about it, either.

SB and I noticed a few things about the religious shwag they left behind. Isn't Jesus looking a lot more clean cut these days? Less like the hippie he was, perhaps? He looks more like, say, a chiropractor or a college professor here.

I'm going to hell -1
Originally uploaded by picture_ho.

And what about Adam? DAMN! Dude is ripped!

I'm going to hell - 2
Originally uploaded by picture_ho.

Can you read the text accompanying the picture? It says, "After the final test, in what sense will mankind be comparable to Adam?"

SB is hoping in body fat percentage.

Babies.

2006-08-29T21:00:00.000-07:00

To have one, or to wait.

How does anyone know when to make that next step? How do you know when you're ready to alter your life forever? I guess for a lot of people it just happens, and then you GET ready. Maybe that's a good thing.

My mood on the topic changes from week to week, it seems. For a few days I will think about how fun a baby would be, how great it would be to show it things and teach it stuff. I'll wonder what it will it look like. I'll flip open one of my doula text books and dream about how excited I am to be pregnant and give birth...

BUT THEN I'll think about taking trips. Sleeping in. Doing whatever we want, whenever we want. Being spontaneous. This is a little embarrassing, but I also think about how it will change my body, and worry about possible future body image issues.

My friend* Jill is having similar thoughts:

Oh, and the whole baby thing...yeah, that's a complicated one. If you would have asked me a month ago, I would have been so incredibly certain and "ready" to get pregnant. This month I'm having cold feet and all the fears of "are we really ready and equipped to make an addition to this family" are cropping up. I'm not sure what feelings to trust, so I'm thoroughly confusing myself. I know one will never really be "ready" but I also wonder if there are still things I need to do/accomplish. I feel like the married folks I know who are getting pregnant are SO certain and have no doubts, AND the married folks who are not getting pregnant are equally certain of themsevles, which leaves me quite confused by my own radical pulls.

I guess maybe I still feel too selfish. If I feel like lazy mornings and the size of my ass are important, I'm not ready, right?

My biggest fear is that things will change with me and SB. It's impossible for a baby NOT to change things. We're so perfect right now. I feel sad thinking about not being eachother's one and only. I know that sounds weird, and selfish, again.

BAH! It will happen soon enough. I now know it will be in the relative near future. I spent so long saying, "five years,' it is significant that I have made the leap to "relative near future." Now I think more along the lines of trying to avoid being pregnant during upcoming bachelorette parties in Vegas or glamorous weddings. (Again with the selfish.)

*Hi friend Jill! Hope you don't mind me publishing your private email on the internets, but you just said it so well. And you're pretty.

___________

UPDATED:

This post by Sundry, today, her son's first birthday, is making my ovaries hurt. Watch the video, it is SO worth it.

Pike Place Market

2006-08-28T23:00:00.000-07:00

Pike Place Market, sunday afternoon, for your viewing pleasure...

Pike Place Market
Originally uploaded by picture_ho.

Pike Place Flowers
Originally uploaded by picture_ho.

Pike Place Fishy
Originally uploaded by picture_ho.

Pike Place Peppers
Originally uploaded by picture_ho.

Pike Place Flower
Originally uploaded by picture_ho.

Seattle prettiness
Originally uploaded by picture_ho.

Neighborhood Treats

2006-08-27T17:48:00.000-07:00

So...the neighbor. You may recall my frustrations with the fucking blue tarp? Yeah. Check out his latest..

Late August
Originally uploaded by picture_ho.

About THREE WEEKS AGO, he spent an hour or so pressure washing this large spot on the side of his house. This is by far the most ghetto-fying measure he has taken yet. I came home from work to see him there, paint chips spreading in a 20 foot radius, and knew that this, THIS would be my new blue tarp. He shut off the machine and cheerfully told me about the paint they'd chosen. As if he were doing me a big favor, he then informed me that he was starting on our side of the house first.

I'll keep you posted. True to form, he hasn't touched it since. It took him 5 months to attempt day two of work on the roof, so we'll see when he feels called to pressure wash again.

I'm sure one day the house will be beautiful, I'm just not sure we'll still live here then. You should know, by the way, that I am a very nice and supportive neighbor. I save my bitching for poor SB and you people.

____________

But look at this!

Tomato Surprise
Originally uploaded by picture_ho.

We returned from a bike ride yesterday to see that someone had anonymously left us these lovely cherry tomaotes! How freaking nice is that? I think it was the lady two houses down that I have been waving at lately.

Doing My Civic Duty

2006-08-25T13:06:00.000-07:00

Big Giant Badge
Originally uploaded by picture_ho.

A couple a months ago I applied to be a police department volunteer, to work at the new substation that was recently finished in my neighborhhod. My baby sister has recently become a police officer and I wanted to learn a little more about her scene. They're planning to have the substations entirely run by volunteers, so I will work one shift a week and answer the phone and help people with reports and stuff. Neato, eh?

I applied, had an interview, and yesterday I had my training. It was held in the control room at headquarters, where they would manage a big crime. It looked just like on TV with white boards and flat screen TV's everywhere and a huge screen that came out of the ceiling where they showed us how to work the computers.

Cop Shop
Originally uploaded by picture_ho.

It was a pretty interesting group of people*, mostly senior citizens. We spent AN HOUR AND FIFTEEN MINUTES learning how to log in and out of our new email accounts. I am not kidding. I guess it is easy to forget that some people still have never even used a computer. They had to be shown how to click, ("no, don't hold it down, just a quick tap") and how to close a window ("see the red X in the corner of your screen?"). We practiced all together logging in...and then logging out, with successes followed by much applause.

At one point, this ancient lady with a loud, low smoker's voice was getting all upset because it wouldn't let her log in anymore. The trainer guy tried to explain to her that she had mis-entered her password three times and now she was locked out, but then she was more angry, like she was getting bad service or something. She kept arguing with him, "What do you mean I'm locked out, it says OK right there!", thinking that the "you are locked out, OK?" button meant, "it's all okay, this young feller is lying to you."

Anywhoo, this should be interesting. Hopefully I will at least have some good stories to tell!

Snazzy New Polos
Originally uploaded by picture_ho.

* I have worked as a volunteer coordinator before, and the segment of the population that volunteers their time is for the most part, oh, a bit touched. Lots of crazies, lots of specials, and lots of old people, all with good intentions. Hmmm. What does this say about me?

Confession Time

2006-08-23T23:19:00.000-07:00

I don't cook. This may come as an surprise to any IRL friends who read this blog because I do manage to throw something decent together for the sake of guests, but day to day? Almost never.

We order a lot of Thai and a lot of pizza. We eat out way too often. If we stay in, we usually have sandwiches or snack supper, like brie and bread or chips and salsa. Pathetic, really.

Well, look out. I have turned over a new leaf and it's all thanks to Ms. Rachel Ray and her 30 Minute Meals.

my new best friend
Originally uploaded by picture_ho.

I looked through the book, found 4 recipes I thought I could handle, and went to the store and bought everything I needed. Cooking is actually fun when you have a plan and all the stuff!

Check this out. A site rarely seen in my kitchen: Food! Made from ingredients!

kitchen in use
Originally uploaded by picture_ho.

Tonight I made Three Bean Chili and it kicked ass. I am SO proud of myself! Poor SB. He only had to be married to me for 6 years before I made him dinner.

Three Bean Chili

1 tbs extra virgin olive oil
1 serrano or jalepeno pepper, minced
1 red bell pepper, chopped
1 medium yellow onion, chopped
2 cloves garlic, minced
1 can refried beans
1 can black beans
1 can red kidney beans
1 big can (28 oz) crushed tomatoes
1/2 can of beer
6 shakes tobasco
2 tbs dark chili powder
1 tbs cumin
a handful of cilantro, chopped

Heat olive oil over medium heat in a deep pot. Add peppers, onion, and garlic and cook for 5 minutes to soften and sweeten the vegetables. Add all other ingredients*. Bring chili to a boil, reduce heat to low, and simmer until ready to serve or for atleast 10 minutes. (I simmered for an hour, because I am such a good cook. And I had shit to do.)

* I added 3 chicken breasts, chopped. I cooked them seperately with just a little olive oil and Johnny's, and added them here.

kick ass chili
Originally uploaded by picture_ho.

hint, hint

2006-08-22T20:16:00.000-07:00

August 2006 146
Originally uploaded by picture_ho.

We awoke the morning of our anniversary to find these on our front porch, a surprise gift from my parents.

Sweet, yes? Then we opened the card.

"For rocking whatever you might be needing to rock," it said.

Ha ha HA. My parents have never been the types to pressure us about grandchildren, but lately that has changed. I think they've decided that enough of our friends have kids, we've been married six years and they are through respecting our boundaries.

Six Years

2006-08-21T14:33:00.000-07:00

In January of 2000, I flew home from Costa Rica expecting my family and SB to be waiting for me at the airport, but it was just SB. There he was, with a picnic packed by my favorite restaurant. After collecting my bags, we enjoyed our feast right there in the airport. He told me that we were going to go see a movie at the IMAX. Before I left, we had discussed seeing Fantasia there, and I was just happy to be home and with him, so I was game. We drove up to the Seattle Center, and I didn't even notice when we walked right past the IMAX and up to a side door of the Pacific Science Center. SB knocked and a guy answered, who he said was a friend of his who was going to let us into the Butterfly House while we waited for the movie to start.

Tropical Butterfly House
Originally uploaded by picture_ho.

You are probably thinking this all sounds pretty fishy, getting let in to an exhibit at 11:00 at night when the museum is closed, but like I said, I was just happy to be home and probaby a little travel loopy.

I like butterflies*, so I was giddy, darting about, pointing out the ones I had seen in real life in Costa Rica. It was so amazing to see them flying all around, so close. SB asked me to come over and check out this fountain. I remember thinking, "Fountain? Have you seen these butterflies?" but then I noticed how much he was sweating, and I started to think that maybe something as up.

And then he was down on his knee, telling me how much he loved me, that he wanted to spend the rest of his life with me, and pulling a small fuzzy box from his pocket! I was blown away. We had never even talked about getting married before this moment. We had said forever-type things, but never "we should get married."

I said yes right away, and we spent the next half hour or so, hugging and squealing and all the things you do. At one point, an iridescent green and yellow butterfly landed on his shoulder. It was so magical.

The lights had been steadily dimming, and soon all the butterflies were in bed and we had to leave. We left the room to find a couple of Science Center employees waiting for us, smiling and clapping.

August 2006 145
Originally uploaded by picture_ho.

(married before the digital age)

* I know! So weird.

note:

The above image of the Butterfly house was "borrowed" from the Pacific Science Center. Those people were not actually present for the proposal.

__________________

Thank you for choosing me, SB. You are such a good man and a wonderful partner. You fill my life with laughter and I am so lucky to have you.

Happy Anniversary

A bad day at yoga.

2006-08-18T16:22:00.000-07:00

I have been trying to find some kind of exercise that I enjoy. I LOVE to walk, I could walk all day, but I sort of need a destination. The (only) thing that kicked ass about j-o-b was the 35 minute walk to and fro. I got to be super fit without even trying or making time in my schedule. Now that I'm working from home, I have to figure something else out. I have a Y membership, but I am super picky about instructors*, meaning the treadmill and the elliptical are my only option. I love the work out buzz, so I can happily tread and ellipt, but they do get a little boring.

Yesterday I tried something new and LOVED. IT. I had driven by this yoga place many times but had never stopped in. I finally went to their website and learned that it is Bikram yoga, which means you do it in a room heated to eleventy million degrees. I like heat and I like to sweat so I figured I would give it a try.

I could NOT BELIEVE how sweaty I got. I am not much of a sweater, but my hair was soaked and I could ring sweat out of my clothes by the end. I felt AMAZING all day yesterday. It was similar to other yoga I have done, just hotter, so your body feels more warmed up and more limber. The teacher was a man with a nice voice who led the class with care and energy. He even said, "very good, Jenny," a couple of times. I left there yesterday thinking I had found the fitness answer! Yay!

Since I now knew I liked it, I went out and bought yoga outfits suitable for public. I realized that I normally do yoga in my living room in shorts and a sports bra, which would show a little to much cleavage and crack for public downward dogging. Dressed in my snazzy new duds, all black of course for the slimming-ness and sweat hiding factor, I cheerfully arrived at class today to see a different teacher, a tiny lady in her 40's with some sort of accent named Yohanna.

About 30 minutes into the class, I was just reaching my happy zen place when Yohanna, in her loud, class leading voice goes, "...and stretch forward, feeling your hamstrings elongate...Jenny you need to leave and go wash your feet"

OH.

MY.

GOD.

Picture it. The whole class is still, holding a pose, and I have to leave and GO WASH MY FEET. At first I didn't even think she was talking to me, afterall, there were probably 17 other Jennys in the class. As I left, all zen happiness was totally banished, my skin was crawling with embarrassment, and I could feel the tears starting to well, even though that was even MORE embarrassing.

Let me be clear. I have a bit of a foot aversion. I don't even like my own feet. Because of this, I get pedicures about twice a month. I shower regularily. MY FEET WEREN'T DIRTY. It is, however, summertime. I walk around barefoot quite a bit (I hate shoes, too) so PERHAPS the small callousy bits I have aquired since my last pedicure, LAST WEEK may be a little stained. MAY.

So there I am in the bathroom, rubbing a cold, wet papertowel on my callouses, knowing that it isn't going to help, when the tears come. I was SO embarrassed. I know it wasn't that big of a deal, but I HATE being singled out like that. And for a personal hygeine issue? OH MY GOD. I get embarrassed when an instructor corrects my form, even. Unless I am going to hurt myself, leave me alone, you know? I had pretty much decided I was out of there, fuck my yoga mat and water bottle, when she came out of the class to talk to me. !!! The class is waiting for me now!? For dirty feet girl!? I promise her that my feet are as clean as they are going to get, she advises scrubbing them (!!!), and we return to class.

With a tight chest and lots of shame, I finished the work out. The class ends of course with the hishdoshhandroshanosh, the laying on the floor and breathing. As I laid there, I started to feel less ashamed and more pissed off. Fuck her! First of all, my feet are not dirty! Secondly, if she HAD to make me leave and go wash them, she could have come up to me and whispered her request, she didn't have to annouce to the whole class that JENNY IS DIRTY. Thirdly, she could have fucking endured my filth for the rest of the class and said something to me afterward so as not to disrupt my focus.

I kept breathing until I felt calm again, and tried to make as quick an exit as possible, but of course she stopped me. She started in on how she did not mean to embarrass me and there are signs posted all over over about clean feet being required, blah blah blah.

Then I cut her off and told that yeah, well, she did embarrass me. It was really hard to focus on my workout for the rest of the class after being publicly called out over a personal hygeine issue. I don't know whatever else I said, but I left feeling like I had told her off good, with out being mean.

I still love that yoga place. I just hope I get other teachers more often than her. And I suppose I will have to get up extra early now and scrub my feet. Awesome. All I needed was another complex.

August 2006 143
Originally uploaded by picture_ho.

* Not too cheerful, not too repetitive, sufficiently ass kicking...

Hair. Growing!

2006-08-17T22:55:00.000-07:00

You must be wondering (okay, humor me), "Jenny, how is the hair growing project going?" Well! I am so glad you asked.

Here we are, last summer, with good hair.

The uncomfortable grow out begins...

Back in February, the first "cut it so it looks like a haircut, even though I am trying to grow it out" look:

Again, with that theory, in
April. So much longer! (humor me again, please)

Well, look out. It's SO long now. It really does seem like it! It's a scoshe longer in the back. I can ALMOST flip it over my shoulder.

Soon I will be braiding it, watch.

Summertime Fun

2006-08-16T18:13:00.000-07:00

Last night a fun group of us celebrated my friend K and her sister C's birthday. Yes, that is singular. They are 5 years apart but were born on the same day. Spooky! Now that they are both grown up, they look like twins. Last night they played it up with matching outfits.

Yummy Mexican on the lovely rooftop terrace at Tia Lou's.

SB is shocked SHOCKED by the penis balloons of another party.

The cover of US Weekly. Much hotter than the Olsens or the Hiltons.

When was the last time you thought about Katrina?

2006-08-15T16:48:00.000-07:00

I have to admit, it's been a long time for me. I live far away from it, and of course the news is occupied with war and spin. Katrina was all but forgotten.

This video just reminded me. It shows the severe devastation of the Mississippi coast, in pictures taken in FEBRUARY of this year, six months afterwards*. The people down there find it harder to forget, I imagine, when their neighborhoods look like... gah**.

This video shows pictures from before, during and after the hurricane.

Hurricane season is about to start. I can't imagine how these people must be feeling.

I wish we could do a better job of taking care of our own.

* It's now 6 months later. Maybe it's gotten a lot better?
** I just spent about 5 minutes trying to come up with 'look like ____' and I couldn't think of anything to describe it. It's that bad.

In case you thought I was making it up.

2006-08-13T18:07:00.000-07:00

Remember the Car Wash For Jesus? My dear friend found this picture on the Tacoma News Tribune's blog.

The very sign that inspired my post!

They captioned it, "In case of rapture, this Carwash will be unmanned."

Excellent.

Flora Shame

2006-08-11T17:23:00.000-07:00

SB's Dad is coming to visit from Indiana today. He hasn't seen the house yet, so it's kind of exciting. This morning, we looked around and thought, shit, we better clean! Really, the house wasn't so bad, but all of a sudden I realized that quite a few plants, inside and out, had met their death at Chez Jacobs recently.

Sb's dad has a crazy green thumb. His garden is a paradise and the inside of their house looks like a jungle. He even sends us a box of his world famous tomatoes every year.

So, I spent most of the day replacing dead, fried, overwatered, or otherwise mistreated plants with new ones. It was quite the Home Despot spree. Of course, the plant that insired the trip, a palm*, I managed to forget. This meant I had to rotate my plant purchases so that the one that was going in the stairwell is now where the plam goes, meaning there is still one sickly plant displayed. It's all right, though. I wouldn't want it to look like I was trying too hard, right?

How funny is it, though, to be ashamed of the state of your houseplants when your father-in-law comes to visit? I couldn't possibly have such evidence of failure crumbling in every corner! And the prettyness I have destroyed on the patio! Shocking.

It's all better now, though. Just in time for fall.

* We have a corner in the living room where palms go to die. We have replaced it three times since we moved in, but damnit, it looks good there. (when it is alive.)

Also, have you heard about these Harry Potter books everyone's talking about?

2006-08-10T20:54:00.000-07:00

The summer of 2006 will be forever known as the summer we spent 60+ hours watching Six Feet Under. I know we're several years behind the curve here, but forgive us, we've never had cable. Thanks to the wonder of Netflix, we now know the utter greatness that is this show. We started back in June with season 1 and finished season 5 a couple of days ago. We had taken to calling it "crack". " We could often be overheard asking, "Did we get any more crack in the mail today?" Obviously, we were a little on the obsessed side. Seriously, though, if there's anyone else out there that missed this amazing show, I highly recommend it. It has occupied my thoughts all summer and is still hanging on, even though there is no more to see. If you are a 6FU dork, however, check out these cool obits for all the main characters. You can glean a few more fan-geeky facts from those.

____________

I stumbled across some YouTube goodness today. You gotta love technology when it can bring a shot of vintage Sesame Street into your day.

Bert and Ernie - Heeeeeeeeere fishy fishy fishy!

Trippy counting to 20

____________

PSA:

1. I've turned on word verification for my comments. I didn't want to do it until I had a spam problem because I didn't want to discourage commenters with the extra step. Oh dear, sweet, beautiful and handsome commenters, please don't be discouraged by the pxqyetu!

2. Sorry to leave you hanging about that birth. SHE is here and mama and baby are happy and healthy!

Pictures.updated

2006-08-09T16:29:00.000-07:00

I still can't post pictures. The icon for posting images no longer exists on my create a post page. Apparently other Blogger users can post images, even STOLEN ones.

This lack of pictures is currently a theme in my life, apparently, because I was just complaining about something similar to SB.

No one takes pictures of me. I just forwarded the album of shots from the camping weekend to the ladies and I realized that out of 44 pictures, I was in 3 of them. THREE! One bad, double chin inducing self shot, and the two self-timer shots we took at the end.

I am the historian of my family and my friends. It is important to me, I realize, and it doesn't have to be important to anyone else. It's just that, someday, I picture me and my ladies as OLD ladies, sitting around admiring how hot THEY used to be, thanks to MY documentation. Or worse, I'll find myself old and friendless with a house full of photo albums bursting with pictures of people I no longer remember.

I was just venting this to SB and I could tell he thought that I was being bratty or vain or something, but damnit, I just speak the truth. He claimed that when he looks at old pictures, he sees them from his memory, what he saw. I called his bullshit, though. Think about it. When you stumble upon an old picture from highschool or college, who do you look at first? YOURSELF, that's who.

Perhaps I am being vain and bratty. This is what a blog is for, no?

____________

EDITED TO ADD:

boo-ya

Thanks, Richard!

First, marvel at the picture I took of a hummimgbird. I rule! Second, so that we all learn something today, you should know that the problem was solved by going to:

Tools
Internet Options
Clear History
then
Clear Cookies
then
Clear Temporary Internet Files

and voila! Blogger is my friend again.

What the hell is wrong with Blogger?

2006-08-09T09:47:00.000-07:00

Is anyone else seeing what I am seeing? On my Dashboard page there is an announcement about a scheduled outage yesterday at 4pm, but the format is still all weird looking. And while I have done plenty of bitching about the spotty photo uploading ability, now there isn't even the option.

GAH!

My apologies. I hope to post something interesting soon.

Women and Camping are my two favorite things.

2006-08-07T16:35:00.000-07:00

What is there to say, really? There is nothing better than girlfriends, sleeping outside, good food, and various intoxicants.

There was much campfire sitting.

...and campfire cooking and laughing.

Above, TL whips up cheese dogs wrapped in croissant dough.

Below, BFF displays her fallic treat, a future campfire eclaire, to a giggling H.

It was hot and the river was cool. We camped in the green shady forest.

Some of the trees wore legwarmers.

All packed up and ready to go back to real life, refreshed and restored, though a tad polluted.

Who are the people in your neighborhood...

2006-08-03T23:39:00.000-07:00

So, as I have previously mentioned, we live ghetto adjacent. That has its own flavor, but we also have something extra special a few houses down.

It's a biker clubhouse, and it's far more difficult to deal with than any of the ghetto-fabulous elements. The bikes are SO FUCKING LOUD. We live on the corner, so we get them on their way in, and for extra fun, we get them on the way out. They sit right outside our house, gunning their engines, waiting for a break in the traffic. They are so loud, we often have to back up the DVD because we have MISSED DIALOGUE.

They're far enough down the block that we are not visually effected, which is nice, because as you can see, they have excellent taste in yard decor.

That would be a chainsaw art middle finger, folks.

When we first moved in, a nice older gentleman from the Neighborhood Association came by to welcome us. One of the first things we did was ask him about the biker frat. His response: "Oh, they're thugs. But they're good neighbors." Awesome.

I can't imagine what it might be like someday if I had just wrestled an infant to sleep, only to have them startled awake by the VROOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM! VROOM, VROOM, VROOOOOOOOOOOOOM! I might have to hurt someone. For now, we just continue what we were doing, while flipping them the bird.

____________

I am leaving today for a girl's camping trip with three of my favorite ladies here. So excited! I'll be sure to be a big blog dork and keep a pencil and paper handy to jot down any good stories. I need one of these.

Bits and Bobs

2006-08-02T12:14:00.000-07:00

In case you were wondering, my friend T did NOT have her baby while I was at BlogHer! Yippeee! She STILL hasn't had it. She's dilated to a 3, though. It was an oops pregnancy, so there's really no accurate due date. I keep thinking it's going to be any minute. Isn't that always the way? This morning, we were sitting on her couch while her husband and I ran name possiblities through this cool baby name popularity chart thing and she had a few contractions. I can tell she's trying to make them hurt, she wants to get going so bad. And how funny is it that they're searching for baby names while she's HAVING CONTRACTIONS. I've had that shit picked out for years and my children are hypothetical.

____________

I shit you not, today I drove by an actual "CARWASH FOR JESUS", according to their signs. I had to blink a few times and try to refocus my eyes. I wish I hadn't been in such a hurry so that I could've taken a picture. Why do you suppose Jesus needs to have a car wash? Does he need new robes? A haircut? Wouldn't you think if you were Jesus that you could turn, say, post-it notes into cash?

____________

I don't like Tapioca pudding. It's a texture thing. I am also not a big fan of cottage cheese or yogurt, unless you alter their texture with other ingredients.

I remember when I was about 10 or so and I got to spend the night at Josie Yates's house. She was much cooler than me and I'm sure I was atleast the 4th or 5th person she called. It was exciting to be at Josie Yates's house. For one thing,she had an honest to god MONKEY in her basement. I was super facinated but was told that he was mean, so we just got to peak in at him. Secondly, she was WAY ahead of the rest of the girls as far as hair/make-up/product went. She had her OWN bathroom full of grown up girly things. (In retrospect, WTF? We were 10!)

ANYway, Josie was very excited because her mom was going to make tapioca pudding for dessert. I had never had it before, but it sounded nice and of course if Josie liked it, than it MUST be cool.

Blech. Creamy, weird, gellatinous, ball soup. Josie finished mine. I think I said I was "full". I know I wouldn't have disagreed with Josie out loud.

____________

Today's post is weird. I am finding it hard to get back in the swing of things after BlogHer, but I know there should be no more posts about BlogHer.

I was just going to post some lovely pictures just for kicks, but Blogger hates me and does not want you to see them. This is why all the big girl bloggers use Typepad or WordPress, I bet.

Beautiful BlogHers* for your viewing pleasure

2006-07-31T20:51:00.000-07:00

There are a few more I want to bost but Blogger is being bitchy again. I will try again later. Right now I have to go mow the dandelions from my dead grass because there is a block party tonight that we can't go to. I don't want anyone tsk-ing.

* It is hard to remember who blogs anonymously or who doesn't post pictures so I am keeping these women mysterious...

And I thought meeting Bird York* was exciting...

2006-07-30T21:21:00.000-07:00

I arrived early to yesterday's closing keynote so I could get a good seat. Arianna Huffington just walked right in like a normal person.

(Let us pause in our story to describe her outfit. White jeans, hip brown top, strappy sandals, and also, TALL, gorgeous, and glamorous.)

She seemed to be looking for someone to tell her what to do. A fan went up to her, megawat grinning her adoration. As I watched, I noticed that Arianna Huffington's tag was sticking out of her shirt.

I walked up just as the fan was walking away, my cheeks cramping from my own star-struck, megawatt grin and I said, "Arianna Huffington, your tag is sticking out of your shirt, may I tuck it in?" And she said, in that exotic accent and lovely, ESL sing-song, "Oh, of course, darling! Thank you!"

I am QUITE pleased with myself.

* No offense, of course, to the lovely and talented Bird York. (What?! She might google herself!)

Blogher - Saturday - Post #1

2006-07-29T10:49:00.000-07:00

Hellooooo!

LOVING. THIS. CONFERENCE.

Yesterday afernoon I took a nap before the cocktail party and when I woke up, I was feeling kind of foggy. I called Whinger and organized meeting up today and then ventured into the cocktail party. I don't know if it was the nap or what, but I was feeling kind of lonely for the first time. I circled the perimeter with my plate of hors de'ouvres, awkwardly searching for a familiar face. I needn't have worried, of course. I ended up partying until 1am with 4 awesome women who are now wonderful new friends*!

Even though there have been technical difficulties and organizational snafus, this conference is just so cool. There have been small moments that illustrate the beauty and power of a big group of women. This morning, the sound wasn't working on a slide show and someone started the 'bah... bah... bah...' of All You Need is Love', and soon all 700 of us were singing it. A technical difficulty turned into a spontaneous, lovely moment. Women are so cool!

Whinger and She Walks have arrived and they are both so fun! I can't believe I am getting to meet them IRL. She Walks was the first blog I ever read, linked on the Best of Craigslist. She started this whole thing for me!

I am looking forward to today's events. I was going to go to a session called 'Get Deeply Geeky' because I felt like I should since I am entering the tech industry. But I couldn't keep up with some of the tech stuff in sessions not specifically designated as geeky yesterday, so I think I am going to a mommyblogging thing instead. Those ladies are fun. After that I am going to a session led by dooce on blog entrepreneurship. I don't think I will ever go that route, but I have such a crush on her I would listen to her talk about anything.

Tonight's keynote speaker is Arianna Fucking Huffington. OH. MY. GOD. So excited!

I'll be back with more later. Thanks for reading!

* Kelly, Becky, Erika, and Karen. Links to be added later.

Blogher - Friday - Post #2

2006-07-28T13:37:00.000-07:00

Hi! I'm still here! It is still really fun!

I know that 'blog celebrities' are actually normal people, but I must admit to being a little star struck by some. Heather from dooce was just as lovely and nice and genuine and HOT as she is on her blog. Mir was exactly as nice as I wanted her to be. I have spotted others as well, but it has to be just the right time to go up and talk to a complete stranger, you know?

I just made a naugty* friend, too! There is a noteable lack of naughtiness in California. Of course, I expected this, but it is indeed noteable when no one is being naughty outside of baggage claim, even. No one! So weird.

You would NOT BELIEVE the shwag at this place! I guess we are a good maket to tap, but I think I am going to need another suitcase to bring home the totebags, lotions, leather, gadgets, and various other free bits I am aquiring. There is even a fleet of flashy cars to test drive! I test drove the Saturn Vue at lunch, which is their new hybrid small SUV type thing. It was so fun! We are actally considering buying a hybrid of some sort, so it was very useful, but I am looking forward to trying one of the smooth convertibles next. It is a lovely day for a convertible!

I have been to four sessions so far, and three of them were very informative and entertaining. The other one may as well have been given by Charlie Brown's teacher. I suppose I should have asked questions, but I got the feeling most of the people there were fluent in wah WAH wah WAH wah.

There are two more sessions and then a cocktail party. I'll check in again later!

* smoking is very bad for you.

Blogher - Friday - Post #1

2006-07-28T08:33:00.000-07:00

I am here! I am sitting at a table with cool women I just met! It starts any minute!!!

I wrote this post while waiting at the airport last night. Forgive the time warp. I will have more updates later on today.

____________

Well, I am checked in for my flight. I am feeling slightly less awesome than I otherwise might because my flight is delayed for 3 hours. Apparently there is some Weather in Chicago. I didn’t bring nearly enough entertainment and of course I checked my power cord. Oh well.

I am feeling very sad however, because my dear friend T is going to have her baby this weekend and I am going to miss it. I wanted to be there so badly. She doesn’t need me, though. She is going to be such a rockstar. I suppose I could be wrong, but I doubt it. Bloody show + diarrhea = baby very soon. I don’t think she will still be pregnant when I get home on Sunday. I am SO selfishly upset!

___________

My baby sister, the fuzz.

My little sister graduated from the Police Academy today. I wish that I could write in any kind of organized fashion about my feelings surrounding this, but I don’t think I can.

Today was the first time I have seen her in her uniform. It was just so weird. My sister’s head and baby face atop this Kevlar clad, multi weapon-ed, COP. I didn’t realize how unsettling it was all day until afterwards at dinner when she had changed her clothes.

It started with this militaristic marching business that was a little hard for me to take. I was having a hard time reconciling my liberal’s healthy disdain for law enforcement with the special day and the fact that fucking A, my sister is a badass.

God. It was just such an emotional day. I was swinging from pride, to eye rolling, to FEAR. I am so afraid something bad will happen to her. There were two especially difficult moments. I was standing next to my mom during this bell ringing ceremony. Officer Sister had just gotten some physical fitness award. All of a sudden it all just seemed like too much and I couldn’t stop myself from asking. ‘How long do you think she will do this?’ My mom said, ‘I don’t know, why?’ and I could barely choke out, ‘Because I am really worried about her,’ before my mom and I were blubbering all over ourselves.

The other brutal moment was when my Dad and I were sitting alone, waiting for something to start, watching the cops pass by. My dad said, ‘they all walk like they have a stick up their butts’. We theorized it probably had to do with the Kevlar and all that gear. Then I confessed my secret disloyal thoughts, and my Dad, a man of very few words said, “In my opinion, this is a very sad day.” I managed to hold in the tears, and mumbled, ‘me too’.

One of her instructors gave a small talk for the families about how to deal with the changes that will result from this job, the possible paranoia, jadedness, and preference to always hang out with other cops. While some of this information was difficult to hear, I enjoyed his speech. He made a few jokes and made it seem a little more human.
After that, we watched a video of the stuff they did in the Academy and it blew my freaking mind. Firstly, it must be noted that Officer Sister has never been a talker. Getting any details out of her is like pulling teeth. The video showed all kinds of crazy shit, and my mom and I just kept gaping at each other in shock. There she was, getting sprayed in the face with mace, lying on the ground shooting a gun, practicing getting attacked by a big fucking scary dog, diving to the bottom of a 20 foot pool to pull someone out of a submerged car. You would think if say, you spent the day doing any of those fucked up things, you might mention it! How was your day, Officer Sister? Fine, she would say.

I guess I knew she was doing stuff like that, but to see it on screen was just so shocking. Like I said, it was an emotional day.

All of this being said, I am trying to get over myself. This is her thing, it is what she wants to do, and I should really just be proud of her. There is no point focusing on the negative aspects of her job. I should instead just think about what a badass she is. It must be hard for her to see the fear in our eyes and know that her family is not entirely supportive.

____________

Anyway, it has been a really long day. The festivities started at 7:30 this morning, so I have been up since 5:15. Then there was all that turmoil, then saying goodbye to SB, and now the flight delay. I am trying to get back the giddiness I was feeling in my last post. I am sure my next post will contain my usual overuse of caps and exclamation points, don’t worry.

I am going to BlogHer Today!

2006-07-27T15:25:00.000-07:00

Today is a big day. My little sister is graduating, and then afterwards I am jetting off to San Jose for that sheblogging shindig.

SO. EXCITED.

I have travelled more than the average bear, but I still feel so grown up and important when I get to take an airplane. I will check in at the counter like it's no big whoop. Then I'll get a coffee and find a seat at my gate. I will flip open a magazine with deliberate nonchalance and take distracted sips of my latte, but inside I will be going, "YIPPEEEE! I AM ON AN ADVENTURE! I'VE GOT A NEW OUTFIT ON! AND A NEATLY PACKED CARRYON! WEEEEE!"

___________

I'm trying not to have any expectations. I am going alone, and have only lose plans* to meet Whinger. I'm not too worried about it, though. Talking to strangers is fun!

In a perfect world, I would get to meet or atleast gaze upon these fantastic women:

Woulda Coulda Shoulda

Jennster

She Walks Around With It

Finslippy

Mocha Momma

Dooce

I wonder what everyone will be like? OOoooooooh!

SO. EXCITED.

* I wish these were less loose, but I don't want to freak her out. Whinger, if you're reading this, YOU ARE MY ONLY FRIEND. But I promise I am not crazy. heh heh.

That fucking blue tarp.

2006-07-26T11:08:00.000-07:00

Our neighbor's house is in pretty bad shape. It looks like it's falling down. It is not the most lovely view, as you can imagine. Right after we moved in, however, he came over and apologized for the state of it and assured us he was working on it. We learned he is a novelist who fixes up houses and sells them. This is his third house and they plan to actually keep the next one. Oh good! We thought. It will be fun to watch the progress, and soon it will look nice.

We have since learned that they are indeed working on the house, but with an extreme case of ADD. We have seen them start a deck, get the frame up, attach a few boards, then leave it. They started replacing some rotten boards on the front of the house, then stopped. They do most of their indoor work from about 12-4 in the morning, as evidenced by the frequent MEEEEEER of the belt sander in the wee hours.

They are very nice. We have even had them over. Needless to say, however, when he excitedly announced the other day that they had bought the paint for the outside of the house and were going to get started soon, I didn't get my hopes up.

None of this bothers, us, really. Not even the construction at night. Except for this FUCKING BLUE TARP. Way back in MARCH they tore the roof off of a section of their house. That same day, they finished most of that section and covered the remaining portion with the fucking blue tarp. I thought to myself, 'Excellent! They should be finished before my birthday party next month.'

I must have forgotten who I was dealing with. My birthday party was on May 13th and the roof had not made any progress since that day in March.

Here is a picture of my sister's friend R from my fabulous party:

You don't so much notice the pretty girl, but the FUCKING BLUE TARP.

Here is a picture from a lovely baby shower I threw on JULY 15th:

Still no progress since that day in March.

I try not to let it bother me, but I gotta say, it blows the ambience of my otherwise lovely patio. It is pretty hard to ignore, especially when the wind kicks up. The flapping can be fairly loud. And HELLO?! I am trying to REDUCE the ghetto rep of my neighborhood.

I try to comfort myself with the fact that October will roll around and it will rain every day and they'll HAVE to do something about it by then, right? It can't go on much further than October, RIGHT?

Well, last night, after one of the hottest days of the summer, I might add, SB glanced up from his cocktail, his eyes as big as saucers, and said, "Oh my god. The fucking blue tarp is gone!" I had begun always sitting with my back to it, so I hadn't noticed.

HALLA-FRICKING-LUYA.

Of course, now, he has started on the front...

Brush With Celebritah

2006-07-24T22:12:00.000-07:00

Last night at the Pink Martini concert at the Chateau Ste. Michelle I had the great pleasure of meeting Kathleen York, aka Bird York. She was the opener. You also know her as Toby's babymama on the West Wing. She is SO nice and SO beautiful up close. I love it when famous people are not too cool to be excited about being famous. She even took a picture of the crowd from on stage. Isn't that cute? Before Pink Martini went on, while signing autographs, she had a short, genuine conversation with each person. She just seemed so normal! Well, except for the gorgy factor. She was stunning. Toby would have to have a much better personality to have a chance with her in real life.

Travel Adventures - Part 3 - Florence

2006-07-20T18:23:00.000-07:00

The year SB was getting his masters in England, we took a trip over the holidays to France and Italy. We couldn't afford to go home for Christmas, but once you are over there, it's possible to travel fairly inexpensively. We had already visited Paris, Milan, and the Cinque Terre. On New Year's Eve, we arrived by train in Florence.

December 31st is also SB's birthday so we decided to splash out a bit on the accomodations. As we emerged from the station into a lively square, I removed the directions I had printed out from their plastic sleeve. I had found the bed and breakfast on the internet, but I hadn't read the instructions beforehand for reaching the place. I squinted at them beneath a street lamp, 'head this way, turn that way, cross over that, then it will be on the right, JUST PAST PRADA, OPPOSITE CARTIER. Hmm, we thought. That sounds nice.

When we found it, we struggled to open the enormous wooden doors, twice our height, pushing on the giant brass ring at eye level. It continued to amaze from there. From the generous hostess, a Sophia Lauren look alike, to our gorgeously austere high ceilinged room, it was absolutely perfect.

We stowed our things and headed out into the twinkly, festive night. We were indeed staying on the 5th Avenue of Florence. We passed by swanky stores with elaborate window displays, and fancy Italians who looked like they shopped there. The narrow streets were all lit up for the holidays. In true Italian high fashion, however, there were no blinking Santas, they were tiny, white lights hanging in strands straight down from way high up, like a chic, sparkling, 70's bead curtain.

It was such a beautiful night! The air was cold and crisp and perfect for a bundled up evening stroll. We marveled at the Duomo's towering pastel spires and enjoyed gellato on the facinatingly medieval Ponte Vechio. Before midnight, however, we started to feel a little over-stim. There were a lot of people in the streets, things were getting a little rowdy, and there were random, startling, fire crackers going off around every corner. We bought some champagne and chocolate at a small market and headed back to our room.

At midnight, we laid in the dark and watched the fireworks dance on the high white walls, feeling blessed to be in Florence and fortunate enough to travel.

The next morning, a lovely breakfast was delivered to our room on silver platters. It was New Year's day and we weren't sure what would be open, so it was okay to laze away the morning a bit. We excitedly brewed plans to buy SOMETHING at one of those stores, maybe something small, like a belt? When I finally got moving, about mid-shower I heard SB thrashing about in the room and wondered what was up. As I was towelling off, a sober faced SB appeared in the bathroom door and said,

"I can't find my wallet."

When you are travelling with nothing but a medium sized back pack, after you've torn the room apart, there is not much further to look. We concluded that he must have been pick pocketed the night before in all those jostling crowds. Oh dear.

We suddenly realized we were in big trouble. You see, we were really poor by this point in the trip. We had something like $200.00 left in a checking account and $200.00 left on a credit card. We were planning on paying for the room on the credit card and living on bread and cheese and sleeping in hostels for the next 4 days. Which we totally could have done! And had a great time! But you can hardly go through all the rigamarole of paying fees and replacing cards for that paltry sum. We spent the whole day in our room, too sad and scared to go anywhere.

What were we going to do? How would we pay for the room now? How would we eat? We weren't supposed to fly out for another 4 days, and from Rome! How the heck were we going to get there?

Later in the day, Sophia Lauren overheard us reporting the cards stolen on the phone in the lobby and saved us from the meltdown I was rapidly approaching. She felt so sorry for us, and something about her motherly nature inspired me to tell her the truth about how screwed we were. She told us not to worry about paying her until we got back to England. Can you believe that? Then she even tried to give us money! We refused, but took her up on her offer to send her a check. She told us that she had children our age and that she would hope that someone would help them out if they were in trouble while traveling abroad.

It was decided that we would use the cash we still had to buy train tickets to Rome in the morning and then go to the airport and try to fly back early. By this time it was nearly 9pm and we had wasted a whole day in Florence, crying in our room. We knew we had to leave in the morning and that this was our last chance to see any of the ridiculously old and beautiful city. So, I did what I do best, consulted my high-lighted Rough Guide and my fold out map, and planned an epic course all across Florence, hitting as may sights as possible.

From 9:30 to 1am we saw, or at least stood outside of, all the places I had wanted to see in three whole days. By the end of that marathon of iconic statues, medieval churches, and closed museums, we had come to a much better place about the less than ideal ending to our trip.

It had been such a scary and uncertain day but all was made right again by the kindness of a stranger. It is so wonderful to be reminded that there are still good people in the world, willing to help out others in need.

Oh, I just felt like a change...

2006-07-18T18:35:00.000-07:00

Not really. Here's what happened.

One of my friends started a blog and picked the same template I was using. Yes, I realize thousands of people are using that template, but for some reason, it just bugged me. So I switched.

This also proves that she has never read my blog because I don't think she would have picked the same template on purpose. I could have been talking about her this whole time*!

It's cool though, because I intend to learn all about pimping my blog at
BlogHer. I was planning on remodeling soon, anyway.

So, dear readers, please accept this temporary template. I hope it does not remind you too much of tennis shoes. And 897? What? I will have to come up with some significance.

* Just kidding. Sort of.

Speaker wires, dirty jobs, and Lesbian Envy

2006-07-18T14:48:00.000-07:00

This post by the fair Whinger got me to thinking about some things:

"In the past few years, I’ve gone from empathizer to solver, and I can almost pinpoint the day this happened: It was when I first picked up a power tool.

Since Partner and I purchased our house 2 1/2 years ago, I have had to actively change the way I think about things. I was previously conditioned that if a job were too dirty or physically demanding, if I waited long enough, someone else would do it. (Fact: I spent all of college never actually opening my own beer because it hurt my hands. I found that if I stood around, a guy would always, always open it for me.)

Now if I want a chore done, no matter the complexity or the level of dirt, it is up to me or Partner or a combined effort. When some wire needed to be run under the house in the gross, creepy crawlspace, I did it. When our windows needed repairing, we learned how to take them out, sand them, glaze them, and return them to their places in working condition."

I am so guilty of getting SB to do all kinds of tasks for me. It is generally understood that SB will take care of most, if not all jobs requiring a power tool. He is also totally in charge of anything that goes on behind the TV. As far as I know, magic elves make it so that the TV, DVD player, and stereo all cooperate. I don't even attempt to learn anything about that stuff.

In general, I don't feel like I CAN'T do these things, I just don't WANT to. I am sure I am capable of all of the things SB does for us*, it's just that he likes to do these things and I don't.

Still, I feel SHAMED by Whinger's capeableness**. I read the above paragraphs and I just want to barf. I sound so helpless and pathetic. My mom can do/fix anything. She is a super kickass role model of capeableness.

That being said, this seems to work for us. I think SB likes it that he gets to do the manly things. I know that he likes to be needed, like we all do. I just wish I could shake this feeling of lameness. I guess I just have to be secure in the knowledge that I COULD do these things if I had to, and also be thankful that I have a partner who is such a good, well, partner.

* It should be noted that I am the designated lawn mower. I enjoy mowing the lawn. SB does not.
** capeability, I know. I am allowed to make up words on my own blog.

My grass is plenty green over here

2006-07-12T15:44:00.000-07:00

It is raining today. Normally a rainy summer day would bring me right down, but today, it feels nice. I feel like the summer is screeching by and maybe this dark, wet, day puts the breaks on a bit.

I love the summer and all of it's epic events following one right after the other. Check out my next few weekends:

this weekend: Circus Contraption/baby shower/cousin leaves for Iraq
next weekend: Visiting my BFF in Portland
the next weekend: BlogHer! Yippee!
the next weekend: Girl's Camping Trip
the next weekend: BFF visits Tacoma
the next weekend: Camping in Canada with internet friends

Then some weekend time opens up a bit, but then it will be September. Isn't that nutty? I am consciously appreciating all these fun times because I know they won't last forever. We will probably have a baby fairly soon* and I know we will live abroad again in the next few years. Then, my travel itch will be scratched and I will be surrounded by exotic things, but I wont have weekends like those above.

I have some friends who are living fantastic, juicy, international lives right now, and normally I would be SO JEALOUS. I would feel that weird pull in my stomach, telling me to GO. I would bemoan my untravelling state and think my life was so boring. For the first time, however, I am feeling like I love this phase of life so much, like I am living plenty juicily right here. I am actually quite satisfied with myself for coming to this conclusion. I feel very mature.

*Oh calm down. I mean "soon" in the grand scheme of things.

I'll take what I can get

2006-07-10T21:37:00.000-07:00

Due to the miracle of the site meter, I am able to see how folks have found my blog. Below is a list of the Google searches that have led people (some VERY disappointed) to Zesty Enterprise.

running with the bulls
uncircumcised weiner pictures
Solstice Parade
Costa Rica Travel
weiner
Pamplona
Hilltop Tacoma Ghetto
Billion Belly March
Quack Didlioso

Welcome Google visitors! Sorry to let you down on the weiner front.

A better than average 4th

2006-07-07T15:08:00.000-07:00

A couple of weeks ago at j-o-b, I heard the board president go into the executive director's office and invite her and her husband out on their yacht for the 4th of July. She mentioned an air show and fireworks over the bay and yummy food. I sat at my desk green with envy.

And then she came out and invited me and SB, too! Hooray! I should not have been surprised as she clearly has a crush on SB. She claims to like him because they are both from the midwest. How can you blame her, really? He is very charming.

Yay! Fabulous plans for the 4th! Needless to say, this is not the crowd we usually roll with, but we are fairly adept at stepping up. I enjoy immensely the anthroplogical observation of the older and more comfortable.

Dude. It was so much fun! It was a beautiful blue sky sunny day, the water looked amazing, and the mountains were all out. Add to that sangria, good company, and the festive atmosphere, and I was having to remind myself to act posh, I was so tingly with fresh air exhiliration.

There was an air show right over our heads. I had never been to an airshow before. (not surprising, considering my aversion to republicans and things overly patriotic) I admit, it fully entertained me for atleast an hour.

Also, we were anchored off shore in front of the Tacoma Freedom Fair which was all along the waterfront. There were booths, bands, rides, etc, but most notably from the water, LOUD COUNTRY MUSIC. Did my whole perfect day just collapse in your mind? It was pretty annoying at times, but mostly ignorable. Every now and then a particularily winning chorus would bust into our Hamptons-esque scene, such as, "tequila makes her clothes fall off," and "I may not be a 10, but the boys say I clean up nice*."

As hour three of the air show began, SB, the board president's fun son, and I were being bad kids** at the back of the boat when we noticed the country station had started playing AC/DC and we knew that this must signal some portent. Our suspicions were confirmed as an F-15 passed over head, splitting ears and jarring bones in it's wake. You sure don't see that every day. Wow. It was so fast and SO LOUD. The country music station called it "the sound of freedom". (actually decent social commentary, though I'm SURE completely unintentional)

There was a pink sunset, dinner, and then the hills of Tacoma started sparkling all around us. Then, of course, the big fireworks show, which totally sucked***. We were out on the boat for 10 hours but it went by so fast. I hope we get invited again****!

* I am not kidding.
** Smoking is very bad for you.
*** Not really, it was wonderful, of course, but I don't know what to write about fireworks.
**** SB insists that my sangria-fueled story telling was entertaining and not a titch overly gregarious as I had feared.

A photo sampling for your viewing pleasure...

Charts

Air show goodness

I so wanted to look cool doing this. Go ahead. Mock me.

Compliment or Not?

2006-07-06T15:51:00.000-07:00

So as I was walking home from work yesterday a car full of dudes drove by. I did not acknowledge them as they slowed down to oggle me. Suddenly they sped up again and one of them yelled,

"MIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIILF"

out the window.

I don't know how to take that. On the one hand, I am slow down and oggle worthy. On the other hand, I apparently look like I am somebody's mother.

Hm.

Superman is HOT

2006-06-28T16:22:00.000-07:00

So last night SB and I went with a group of friends up to Seattle to see Superman Returns at the IMAX theater. If you see it at an IMAX, there are parts in 3-D*. I have some thoughts, but I promise not to be a spoiler.

First of all, Superman is H-O-T HOT! He is appropriately dreamy and gallant as Superman should be. I think it's really cool that they cast someone unknown in that role.

Secondly, the 3-D wasn't that great. I was pretty disappointed, actually. There have been amazing advancements in 3-D technology. Have you ever seen the Muppet Show at California Adventure? Or the Mickey Mouse music show thing at Disney World? THOSE will blow your mind. I was expecting Superman to be just as cool, but it wasn't. It looked all weird and blurry. I think it would actually be better and less distracting to see this movie at a regular theater.

Third, Kate Bosworth. Now, I am normally not one to cut someone down (unless they really deserve it) and I suppose she did a fine job, but she is no Margot Kidder. I would prefer my Lois Lane a little fiestier. She is supposed to be strong and smart and empowered. Kate was a bit waify and fragile for my taste. She really needs to eat a sandwhich. I don't know whom I would prefer in that role, but someone a little less china-dollish, you know?

All that being said, I liked it! It wasn't BAD. It was a quality fluff movie that went great with popcorn and Junior Mints. Oh! And Parker Posey as Kevin Spacey's gal was HI-larious. I love her. She can do no wrong. Kevin Spacey was good as Lex Luthor but I wish there would have been more of him to see.**

*It turns out I was wrong about the the 3-D happening every time Clark took off his glasses. There was actually a little blinking icon at the bottom of the screen. Less creative, but probably easier for the masses to grasp.

** If you've seen it, wouldn't you rather end up where they did, on that pretty coconut island, than the cold and pokey evil island he was trying to make?

Poop

2006-06-27T16:39:00.000-07:00

The lovely Fee has requested that we return to travel posts. I am having a bit of bloggers block right now, anyway. Really, I have just had to work at work lately, and when I get home from work, there is this great patio to sit on. Once it gets dark, there are episodes of Six Feet Under to watch (our newest adiction) and you can see how no blogging gets done.

Well, in the spirit of travel posts I present to you two very funny pictures. I don't know why they tickle me so. Maybe it is because there really is no American equivelant.

Exhibit A:

Here is the universal symbol for 'Please pick up your dog's feces' as seen in Barcelona, Spain. If it is not clear, there is a snooty little dog, patiently waiting while it's human collects the three perfectly stacked balls of poo that he has left for him. Underneath it says, 'thank you.' This sign, while hilarious, is ignored by all, as evidenced by the number of times one can step in a big pile of dog poo right in the middle of the sidewalk an any given afternoon in Barcelona.

Exhibit B:

Here is a (completely unreadable, sorry) sign from Redding, England. It says, "Please do not let your dog foul on the playing field." Isn't that great? I wonder if the double meaning was on purpose and some witty Englishman thinks that it's funny, too. It's like, "Please make sure that your dog is neither off sides, nor is taking a dump on the pitch."

____________

SB is nearly wetting himself with excitement for tonight we are going to the premiere of Superman at the IMAX theater in Seattle. Apparently, whenever Clark Kent takes off his glasses we get to put on our 3D glasses and we see everything Superman sees in 3D. And there will be popcorn. Okay, I guess I am a little excited, too.

Summertime, and the livin's easy...

2006-06-21T16:05:00.000-07:00

Okay, be honest. When you read that title did you hear Billie Holiday, or did you hear Sublime?
____________

Happy first day of Summer everyone! I love this time of year, when the summer and all of it's events spread deliciously before us. It is even sunny today, so I don't have to use my imagination to picture it all. Camping! Sitting beside my mom's pool! Eating and drinking outside!
____________

We moved into our house 6 months ago today. In a way it seems like we have been there forever, but I am reminded by little things that this is indeed our first year there.

Our house is what we like to call ghetto-adjacent. Let's be clear, though. Tacoma's 'ghetto' is nothing like what you might find in a proper big city. Unless you are from this area, you could probably drive through our neighorhood and never have any idea that Hilltop, as our neighbohood is called, was the 'bad' part of town. We feel completely safe here, but sometimes I am reminded that even some of our friends and family think we live in Compton, as evidenced by the scurrying to their cars or the requests to watch them get in.

ANYway, it is now Summertime, and it is interesting how much more activity there is outside of our house. We thought there was a lot in December when we moved in, but now that it is warmer, there are all kinds of characters roaming about. As it has gotten warmer and we have started sleeping with the windows open, we have been surprised by how busy the streets are at night. We often hear talking, yelling, fighting, singing, and even freestyle rapping (which totally rules). All this quiets down around midnight, though, when the classical music starts. We don't know where it is coming from, but it sure is nice. I know it is someone's idea of a crime deterrant (it is hard to stand around looking tough with Mozart blaring in the background), and it is probably further proof of our ghetto non-adjacent-ness, but I enjoy it just the same.

Billion Belly March

2006-06-20T14:25:00.000-07:00

Saturday was the Solstice Parade and it went off without a hitch! I should have known the weather gods wouldn't dare rain on my parade.

Of course I made SB take a bunch of pictures of me before we left since I knew the well-coifed, non-mascara streaked look was short lived.

Yes, this is the same costume from last year. The colors were red with purple accent last year, but this year Delilah changed the accent color to gold. I* just had to change the side scarfy things and a bit of trim on the belt and walah!

Oh how I love fake eyelashes! I went to a performance makeup workshop of Delilah's once where she said that she likes to put them on when she has to make important phone calls. I totally get it. They just make you feel so fabulous, once you get over the weird, heavy eyelid feeling. Those bindis were super fun, too, though they would make for unfortunate tan lines later on.

Here is the best husband in the world, poised and ready for adventure! He came up early with me and scouted out a place to watch the parade for my mom, dad, sister, and sister's boyfriend. He also risked Delilah's wrath by folowing us for awhile down the parade route to get pictures.

It goes without saying that the Parade is a liberal lovefest. It begins with hundreds of naked bicyclists and there are plenty of naked people just walking around.** There are rules for the parade, however. You cannot have any printed words or banners (or animals or motorized vehicles) so you have to be a little more creative with your Bush bashing.

This would be the 5th Solstice Parade since he took office and each year there is more dead horse beating than before. The nudity seems to increase as well, which I am all for. Ahhh... the Solstice Parade, fighting against the increased prudery of society one nudist at a time.

One of the craziest things about being in the parade is the experience that is the staging area. The whole parade is crammed into about half a block. It is an insane mix of nudists, stilt walkers, bellydancers and bands, all practicing or warming up together at the same time. It's nuts. It seems to take forever for it to be our turn to go but finally it starts!

The fabulous Delilah never disappoints.

Here I am spiking the camera. It is just so exciting when you see your people! Also, notice the water woman on the left, ready with a refreshing squirt or spray at a moments's notice.

The parade ends at Gasworks Park where we gathered for a picture. Can you find me? ***

What an excellent day!

* and when I say "I", I mean "my mom".
** I gotta say, I prefer the uncircumcised weiner when confronted with foreign weiners in public. They just seemed more dressed, more polite.
*** You KNOW I found a spot up front. :)
____________

Ooooh look! press coverage!

The parade is tomorrow!

2006-06-16T13:58:00.000-07:00

Hello! Life has been nutty and I have been neglecting the internets. This weekend is the Solstice Parade and I have had rehearsals and various other craziness all week.

Here is a copy* of the invitation to the Parade that Delilah has been sending all over:

There are many reasons to attend Seattle's Annual Fremont Solstice
Parade. However, we want to extend a special invitation for you to witness a
unique celebration of women's creativity, unity and power:
The Billion Belly March!

Belly dancing has always been an integral part of the Fremont Solstice
Parade. While it has grown exponentially in popularity in the United
States as a creative form of women's empowerment, so has the
participation of dancers in this joyful event. This year promises to be
the most spectacular performance ever, as hundreds of dancers from around
the area converge on Fremont for a week-long celebration of this ancient
art, culminating with the Solstice Parade!

There are now more belly dancers in the United States than in the rest of
the world combined! Belly dance has firmly taken root here. Its ancient
Mediterranean mix of art, music, cultures, and physical commitment has
resulted in a unique vehicle for the expression of strength and personal
growth.

The Billion Belly March will be the embodiment of diversity! We are all
ages, colors, shapes and sizes, and come from all backgrounds. We are
strong American women: mothers, sisters, grandmothers, doctors, lawyers,
librarians, housewives and businesswomen. We are politically active and
aware, and we are concerned about the perilous state of women's rights,
international relations, and the continuing exploitation of our
environment. Our commitment to diversity and empowerment inspires us to
make a difference in our world!

Please accept our invitation, as we represent and celebrate the spirit of
women. We are a powerful and positive force in our community. We enjoy
our beauty, grace, music and motion as we contribute to the wonder and
joy of The Solstice Parade - a truly remarkable event! We thank you for
hearing our concerns and our commitment, as we invite you to join in the
celebration of our Billion Belly March with us!

Yours in peace,

Delilah, and the Visionary Dancers
Visionary Dance Productions

Hope to see you there!

Saturday June 17th, 2006
Noon

* I am not pleased with the way that pasted. I don't know how to fix it as it does not do that before it is published. Oh well.

A small break from travel posts

2006-06-07T22:08:00.000-07:00

My friends are funny.

The other night I was on the phone with my friend Brianna*. She had just finished telling me about the lovely dinner she and her husband Ron* had enjoyed that evening at a Thai place I have yet to try.

We were shooting the breeze, trying to come up with the next time we could get together, when the converstaion was abruptly ended.

Me: So blah blah blah, how about the 16th?

B: Huh.

Me: What, you are not committed?

B: Uh, no, that was an 'I think I might have to shit my pants', huh.

Me: Oh. So anyway about the sixtee-

B: IGOTTAGOI'LLCALLYOUBACKBYE. click.

I snickered to myself over poor Brianna's misfortune and how funny it was that she had just been telling me about her great dinner. I thought that she would probably be calling me back in under 5 minutes, as these things are usually disturbingly quick, but about a half an hour later, there was still no call.

I called her back and found her grading papers, having completely forgotten she had been talking to me. We had a good laugh over her hanging up on me and how stressful an event it had been that she had completely forgotten she had been on the phone. She had just barely made it to the bathroom in time, apparently. No sooner had she recovered from her painful bout when she heard the lawn mower stop outside, and Ron come barreling up the steps, charging towards the bathroom in a strange, clenched fashion, tossing an 'I have di-di' over his shoulder as he went. Ron and Brianna's downstairs bathroom has about 6 doors leading off of it, and OHMYGOD, poor Ron did not have time to close them. He had to suffer through his painful bout while the most private of noises reverberated throughout the house.

As I wiped tears from my eyes, a direct result of Brianna's hilarious recounting of events, she said, "the real question now is, do I eat my leftovers for lunch tomorrow?" I thought she was kidding but she then said, "I say yes. I might shit my pants but that's food I paid for."

Me: STOP! You're KILLING me!

* names changed to protect the afflicted.

____________

I am heading off today on a grand adventure. Loll and I are driving to Sacramento, California for a college friend's wedding. I will continue my travel unit when I return on Tuesday. Thanks for reading!

:)

Travel Adventures - Pt. 2: Spain

2006-06-04T23:01:00.000-07:00

After graduating from college in 2001 with a freshly minted bachelor of arts in Spanish, I moved to Barcelona. My friend T and I lived in an apartment with a typically bitchy Spanish woman and a sweet Swede. We had weekly English tutoring gigs, gym memberships, a favorite beach, and a near nightly frequneted tapas bar. We felt pretty legit, yo.

We spent most of our days on the beach, as this was a free activity and we were pretty poor. We did plan one excursion into the wilds of Spain, though...PAMPLONA for the RUNNING OF THE BULLS. This event deserves all caps, don't you think?

By the time we went, we had recruited a few more participants, our friend E from Boston who we met on the Metro, and two boys who were traveling Europe that T knew from choir. We left Barcelona very early on a friday morning on a bus filled with drunken Spaniards, all singing the Pamplona song:

Uno de Enero,
dos de Febrero,
tres de Marzo,
cuatro de Abril,
cinco de Mayo,
seis de Junio,
siete de Julio San Fermin.

A Pamplona hemos de ir,
con una media,
con una media,
a Pamplona hemos de ir
con una media y un calcetín

So exciting! It was quite an adventure, made more so by the fact that we didn't have anywhere to stay. Apparently, you have to make hotel reservations about 5 years in advance to have a room during the week of San Fermines (the Spanish name for the festival). So what do you do? You sleep in the park. Really. Looking back, I am so impressed by our adventurous spirit. I am not sure I would make plans to sleep on the ground now, in my old age.

In the weeks leading up to the trip, T and I read a lot about the festival and tried to prepare as well as possible. We knew we would have to carry all of our stuff all of the time, so we couldn't bring a lot. Basicly, we both had small shoulder bags with the BARE essentials: camera, water bottle, sunscreen, toothbrush, and a sarong for sleeping on. I wore shorts and a t-shirt, saltwater sandals, and a sweater tied around my waist. As it was H-O-T in Barcelona, I figured this was a good set up.

We had read that everyone who goes to Pamplona wears the uniform: white pants and a white shirt with a red sash around your neck and your waist. We decided that probably the locals did that, but we didn't want to look like big faker tourists, and besides, it's not like I packed an outfit like that to bring to Spain.

Well, when we arrived in Pamplona about 5 hours later, we realized that maybe all of our planning was a bit off. First of all:

Can you see that? As far as the eye can see? Everyone in white and red? Dude. We got ourselves some T-shirts STAT.

The second fairly unpleasant discovery we made was that it was about 40 degrees and it was starting to rain. It had been close to 100 in Barcelona for weeks, and we immediately started to shiver.

Trying desperately to avoid a breakdown along the lines of, 'Oh my god! I am so COLD! WE ARE SUPPOSED TO BE SLEEPING ON THE GROUND! WE ARE NOT LEAVING FOR THREE WHOLE DAYS!! What am I going to dooooooo!?!?!?," we immediately started drinking. Ah the cheap sangria, straight from the bottle, was our friend. With a little liquor in us, we joined the jovial atmosphere, basicly diving into that big red and white throng and letting the crowd decide where we would go.

The crowd was like none I had ever experienced. You would think with that many drunken people, high on adventure, it would have some kind of gross concert-like feel, but it didn't at all. The participants were so diverse! There were kids and families and grandpas and marching bands, all crammed into those narrow little streets, dancing along, passing bottles of sangria to strangers as they went. It felt really wonderful, very brotherhood of man.

Well, a couple hours of this and we needed a break. The actual running of the bulls happens at about 7 am and we knew that we would most likely stay up all night in order to get a good spot. We decided it would be a good idea to take a nap in the park, wake up in a few hours, and then power on through the night. We selected a nice grassy spot and within minutes my cohorts were snoring away.

I, of course, was finding it difficult to sleep because I was so freaking cold. I was desperately trying to not lose my good humor, while picturing two more days of this. To pass the time and redirect my thoughts, I started thinking about warm things. My sweaty bed in Barcelona, the warm sand on our favorite beach, a big hot bath tub, Ecuadorian sweaters... You know those big, thick, hippie sweaters sold at farmers markets nation wide? One of those would be perfect.

I suffered through as much shivering as I could stand and then decided to wake everyone up and try to convince them to seek shelter somewhere, in the form of a restaurant, preferrably one with REALLY slow service. We found just such a place, and stayed as long as possible, through a couple of bottles of sangria, coffee, anything to not have to go back outside right away. As we were finishing up, I entertained everyone with my warm scenarios and evryone had a good laugh.

We ventured back out into the street, turned one corner, and there, with a beam of heavenly light shining up on them, was a man selling ECUADORIAN SWEATERS. He had just set up and the crowds were beginning to overtake him. His price went up by 20 bucks while we chose our lifesaving garments. Halleluia, sweet baby jesus, I was WARM. That ugly hippie sweater saved my life.

Newly warm and freshly buzzed, we set off into the night. I couldn't tell you if I tried, about all the trouble we got into. I know there was lots of dancing, lots of sangria, and if I recall, a bit of street corner singing. As the sun started coming up, and the streets started to empty, we knew we needed to find our spot for the RUNNING OF THE BULLS. We stumbled across a small square that was still pretty empty and staked our claim.

As 7am neared, we were soon squished up against a flimsy barrier with hundreds of people. It was a little scary. T's face says it all:

The tension in the crowd was rising and soon we heard the church bells that signalled that the bulls were coming. The crowd went nuts. A minute or so later, the runners and the bulls swished by so fast we hardly even knew what happened. You see, we were standing in a tiny square that the bulls ran through, but the street was so narrow and the buildings so tall, that we basicly had about a 30 foot window to the race.

We saw less of this:

and more just white and red blur followed by brown and black blur. Whoosh! And it was over. The crowd started to thin out and we started cracking up. Was that it? I confessed that all I really saw was their backs*, and then just for a second. We decided that the running of the bulls is kind of like your first time having sex. You know it's a big deal, you get all excited for it, but it's over before you know it.

The drinking, park sleeping, peeing behind bushes, I'm SO HOT, I'm fucking freezing, bulls whooshing by too fast scenario repeated itself for two more days. By the time we were finally on that bus back to Barcelona, we felt like we had been through a war together. Before we left, we took this picture in front of the Hemmingway statue. Hemmingway was indeed a bull running badass, but if I recall, he had a hotel room. Pansy.

* Or their 'lomo'. I include this funny for T, though I doubt it will translate. There are lots of sandwich places in Barcelona, and one of the varieties you always see is the "lomo sandwich". It is really just a roast beef sandwhich, but when you look up 'lomo' in your Spanish dictionary it says 'back'. Mmmm. Back sandwhich.

Travel Adventures - Pt. 1: Costa Rica

2006-06-01T22:23:00.000-07:00

Inspired by Kristi's Ish, I have decided to do a travel unit.

I took a trip down memory lane tonight and went through all my travel albums, mining for blog fodder. Sadly, all of my travel took place in the pre-digital era, so what pictures there are will be weird pictures of pictures in albums, often featuring the holy spirit*.

It is impossible to do justice in writing to most travelling adventures. The details are just too juicy. So, I think I will illuminate a piece of each place I have travelled with a good story.

My first adventure was a study abroad program in Costa Rica.

* Or it could be the flash reflection. You never know.

____________

The summer of 1999 I went on a language study program near Alajuela, Costa Rica. I was a sheltered little momma's girl from Puyallup* DYING for adventure, and just recently freed from a suffocating relationship. I was determined to make that trip as juicy as possible.

My host family was WONDERFUL. Somehow, I managed to get placed with the family that owned the sugar cane plantation that all the other host families worked on. My accomodations were pretty cush compared to some of the other students, but the best part was Mama Flora. She SPOILED me. God, did she feed me well. Check out this heavenly spread I had every morning:

YUM. That's scrambled eggs, gallo pinto (spicy Costa Rican rice dish), fried plantains, fresh sqeezed orange juice from the tree outside,and QUALITY coffee with the milk heated up, too. Oh. My. God. Pure heaven.

Right. The story. So, my program included a couple of excursions where everything was all organized for us. While I appreciated that part, that also meant I had to actually spend time with the other program participants, all of whom were loud, 19 year old, ugly Americans, who appeared to have come to Costa Rica less for a cultural exchange, and more for the underage drinking. Yuck. Seriously, there were 35 of us on the program and there was only one other person who was tolerable and I spent every moment with him, the fabulous Ted**. Our poor misguided host mothers, oblivious to Ted's obvious homosexuality, enjoyed speculating about our 'romance' but really, we were just so relieved to have located another sane human.

The first big trip we took was to Tortuguero National Park. Have you ever been on the Jungle Cruise at Disneyland? Believe it or not, to get to Tortuguero, you get a two hour REAL LIFE Jungle Cruise. (well, minus the cannibals) It was indescribable. The water! The jungle! The animals! We saw all kinds of crazy exotic birds, monkeys swinging from tree to tree, and bananas just GROWING in the jungle. Needless to say, it blew my freaking mind and we weren't even there yet.

The reason you go Tortuguero is to hopefully see a giant green sea turtle lay her eggs. After getting settled in our jungle lodge, we impatiently waited for nightfall. At about 10pm we met with our guide and started our search. The guide walked out in front of us, looking for turtles, the only light coming from his tiny red light flashlight.

We walked for about two hours not finding anything. The 'not finding anything' part was pretty incredible, though. It was a dark night, the Caribbean waves were crashing, the stars were twinkling in the black sky and I was high on adventure. We could have walked all night, the phosphoresence magically illuminating our every step, and I would have been happy. Just when our guide was about to make us turn back he excitedly told us to wait! He had found something! Apparently, once a turtle starts laying her eggs, she is in some kind of labor trance where you can't really bother her, but first we had to wait for her to choose her spot and dig her hole.

While we waited, a hot wind began to blow, and soon our twinkly star night turned into a tropical downpoor. Life at it's juiciest! Here I was, getting soaked by a hot, tropical rainstorm on a Costa Rican beach at midnight, waves crashing, footsteps glowing, waiting to see a giant green sea turtle lay her eggs. What a night! I took off my glasses because there was no point trying to see. Soon, I had my shirt off too, since my bra looked like a bikini, the boys all had theirs off, and it is much more fun to dance in the rain without your shirt sticking to you. Somewhere about this time, one of the least annoying, yet still so young and silly 19 year olds offered to hold my glasses on the chain around his neck where he had his. Normally I would have never trusted him with them, but I was feeling so generally benevolent and in love with the world, I handed them over and kept dancing.

Finally, the guide called us over and we got to make a quiet, careful circle around the big, beautiful turtle and watch her lay her eggs in the sand. Un freaking believable. It was so cool. They didn't look like egg-eggs. They were round and rubbery looking, and they would come out of her and land softly in the pile, bounce, bouce, bounce. I was keenly aware at the time what a miracle I was witnessing.

On the way back, I was so high on life I was nearly skipping. I couldn't believe what I was getting to experience. This is probably when the travel bug was firmly taking root somewhere in my guts, actually. How could I ever stay in Puyallup after this? It was then that 19 year old flirty boy came up to me with the look of fear and imminent beating in his eyes and said, "I lost your glasses."

Oh. Really? Since he looked like he felt worse than me, I did my best to let him off the hook, as the euphoria I was so recently experiencing evaporated into the warm, night air. Oh no. What would I do? I had another two months on this program. I would have to be blind all that time? Not to metion the fact that the aforementioned suffocating yet wealthy ex-boyfriend had paid for the ridiculously expensive frames and I knew I wouldn't be able to replace them. Shit!

I mangaged to hold back tears until I was back in my room in the jungle lodge. Then I got in the shower and cried my eyes out. I knew I would get over it, it wasn't the end of the world, but I'm a cryer. Just when I was about to suck it up and get out, I looked up to the screened window at the top of the shower and saw this:

OH MY GOD! A red eyed green tree frog! The cover photo of my Costa Rica Rough Guide! OHMYGODOHMYGOD SO FREAKING COOL! The euphoria back, I threw on a towel and ran down a few doors to get Ted and show him my frog. He was appropriately excited. I decided then, that the frog was a good omen and everything would be okay.

I couldn't entirely give up on my glasses, though, and the next morning at breakfast, I batted my eyelashes and got the guide to take me and Ted back to where we saw the turtle to see if maybe we could find them. This resulted in Ted and I getting a private boat trip, great conversation with the guide, and the opportunity to see the beach in daylight. He took us right to the spot. It was so amazing to get to see how she had carefully covered the eggs when she was finished and her beautiful, half moon tracks leading back to the sea. We began our mostly hopeless search for my glasses. My theory was that maybe when flirty boy was leaning over looking at the turtle, they had fallen off the chain. Ted began raking the sand with his fingers where the turtle had covered her eggs and FUCKING FOUND MY GLASSES! My brown framed glasses in the wet, brown, sand, after searhing for less than 5 minutes. Oh! Thank you, little froggy!

Good thing money bags ex-boyfriend had paid for the fancy scratch coating because even though my glasses were burried in the sand by a giant green sea turtle, they were scratch free!

Well, thus concludes travel adventure story number one. Stay tuned for more stories and hopefully more frequent blog posting in the future.

* That's Pyoo-AL-up, for you internet peeps.

** I have since lost track of him and it breaks my heart. Dear gods of the internets, please return my Ted to me someday.

Art can be dangerous. For birds.

2006-05-26T14:28:00.000-07:00

There is a contemporary art gallery on the same block as j-o-b. They often have very strange things in their window displays, but at the moment, there are parakeets! (I suppose these are also strange.) It is fun to watch them flying about, in what I am sure is a much larger cage than they are used to.

Today, on my way back from getting a friday caffeine treat, I noticed that a punk-rocker-ish boy seemed to be overly interested in the birdies. I was in no hurry to get back to j-o-b, so I had paused to watch them for a moment when Punk Rock Boy turned to me with sad, black eyeliner ringed eyes and said, "That bird is stuck."

Oh no! They have some netting strung just inside the windows, probably so that the birds don't poop on them, and indeed, a tiny, snow white parakeet was stuck. He was franticly trying to extricate himself and it looked so painful. As we watched, he managed to get free, but now he was stuck on the wrong side of the netting, painfully close to the bird seed sculpture and all of his birdie friends, but unable to reach them. He then, of course, tried to fit his little body through the net and got himself stuck worse than before.

I had been having a fairly tearful day already, so this was probably more distressing to me than it should have been. Thank goodness for Punk Rock Boy and his clear thinking. "Is there a pay phone around here?" he asked, "because there is a number for the galllery right there." Brilliant, Punk Rock Boy! I whipped out my trusty cell phone and was soon talking to someone inside, who promised to come rescue the bird right away.

Punk Rock Boy and I shared a relieved smile and congratulated ourselves for saving the day. Then his bus came and he was gone forever.

Ah...city living. You gotta love it.

This was a valued rug.

2006-05-23T16:31:00.000-07:00

I did a very bad thing. A couple of weekends ago, we had a big clean up day at j-o-b. There was years and years of crap that needed to be sorted through, but I am one to just toss. People kept coming up to me all day, saying things like, "I found this box of fundraising materials from 1987, do you think we should save them?" Gah! NO. Throw. Them. Away.

One of the first things I tossed, however, was the ugliest rug you have ever seen. It was pink, with some sort of heinous aztec print. It was too big for the area, (it did NOT tie the room together) and that area happened to be directly in front of the new desk I was moving to. It just had to go.

(a bit of back story: j-o-b went bankrupt two years ago and all the employees were let go. They all just basically got up and left. Thus, there was all kinds of crap that was just left behind. I wrongly assumed that this rug was one of those things. oops.)

It was with great joy that I rolled that sucker up and placed it decidedly in the trash pile. The office looked immediately better. I went about my merry way, throwing things out with reckless abandon.

You know what's coming, don't you.

Monday morning, bright and early, I was sitting at my new desk, admiring the newly organized and freshly painted office when the board president walks in. She is a very nice lady and I expected her to begin complimenting our incredible improvements, but instead she said, "Where's my rug?"

"Uh...I will look into that for you. But look! New paint!"

I passed her off to someone else and while she began oohing and ahing about the improvements, I scurried into the new Executive Director's office and told her the bad news. She said naughty words for the first time in my presence, which was excellent, then got on the phone with the volunteers who made the dump run. Unfortunately, said volunteer SPECIFICALLY remembered heaving 'that ugly thing' out the back of the truck into the great abyss of the land fill.

Right. My next desperate attempt was to call the dump and ask if there was any way of retrieving something that had been mistakenly dropped off two days ago. There was a brief pause, wherein I imagine the receptionist was stifling laughter, then she dashed all our hopes of getting the rug back. Apparently it is NOT possible to retrieve something from the dump. Duh. What was I going to do anyway? Wade through the dump looking for a scap of pink aztec?

So, I ended up telling her that I had set her rug aside because it was getting in the way of the garbage trolleys and that "someone" must have "accidently" gotten rid of it. Turns out that although if I'd had to guess, I would have said it was a Walmart special, it was actually handmade in India and had a fancy name which now escapes me. Awesome.

I have since had to make fruitless calls to the volunteers that were there that day, "in case someone thought we were throwing it away and took it home with them". She even had possible suspects in mind, the types who would have done such a thing. I had to listen while she described it to the facilities manager in case it turned up in another office, as well.

There is no moral to this story, but the Lebowski tie-ins are unavoidable and everytime she brings it up, I am giggling on the inside.

____________

I am not a hip music scenester by any means so maybe everyone already knows about this guy, but right now I am LOVING Matt Costa. I have his new album "Songs We Sing" and every song is good. He is kind of like a less cloying Jack Johnson, or maybe even a young Paul Simon. Anywho, it's great, and a perfect summer soundtrack.

____________

Do you see the face in my coffee? I dorkily freaked out about this, as if it were a Mary-like sighting, then realized the barista did it on purpose. Oh.

Finally. Sheesh.

2006-05-19T18:36:00.000-07:00

Don't you hate it when you check someone's blog and it's been the same goddamn thing for a week? I do.

____________

It is raining today. You may be thinking, 'Of course it is, Jenny. You live in the Pacific Northwest. You expect SUN in May? Please.' But it has been SO nice for the last few weeks. I got used to it. I forgot where I lived. Consequently, I have not had an appropriately Friday attitude today. Must buck up.

Ahhh... that feels better.

____________

Children are still playing Quack Didlioso*. Today at J-O-B, there was a group of 5th or 6th gradish kids waiting for their school bus on the grass out front. They were on a field trip to the theater next door. The windows were open and I was doing some mind numbing data entry when I heard the song.

Quack didlioso quack quack quack
Samerico rico rico rico
fahlorah falorah
falor falor falor
fa-LOR
ONE TWO THREE FOUR

I just cracked myself up writing that down. What are those words? Are there actual WORD words, and I was maybe a stupid child? About three rounds went by before the tune wiggled it's way into my awareness. Once I realized what it was, I got up from my desk in my badly lit corner, and walked across the office, opened the heavy old window and leaned way out. I could see the circle, and I watched a game all the way to the end when the loudest, biggest boy won. The air felt nice and the kids looked happy and I was glad to be out of my corner.

* I am POSITIVE I spelled that correctly. But really, who decides?

____________

Speaking of being out of my corner, my last day at J-O-B is August 4th*. I am going to be starting a completely new and different job in a completly new and different field**. It is blowing. My freaking. Mind. In a good way. I have learned SO much in the last few days, I am afraid I am going to lose some of it. Every now and then, I have to have a mini melt down about how in the hell anyone ever thought I could do this, but then I get over myself and keep trying. SB is really great with his pep talks. He was in my position not too long ago, so he remembers what it is like to feel dumb all the time. I do not like to feel dumb. I know everything, didn't you know?

It has been a really long time since I have been challenged. I want to do so well. I want to prove I can do it. I want to earn more than a non-profit pee-on salary. All this makes my stomach hurt a little.

In a good way.

* doing dance of joy
** the tech industry? really? Yes, really. I know. I can't beleive it either.

My 30th Birthday Party

2006-05-15T22:51:00.000-07:00

We had our first party on Saturday night in honor of my big three-oh. It was so wonderful to have the house full of all of my favorite people.

Look at my patio! During one of my house tours, I took this picture from the guest room window.

My friend JP brought me this hat. It says, "All hail the birthday princess." Of course, when he gave it to me, I all was all freshly dolled up. He said I didn't have to put it on right away, that he knew I would in about 6 beers. He was correct.

At one point, I think there were more babies there than adults. Two friends I worked with at a summer camp in college brought their three week old, who was soon unseated as tiniest baby when the occupant of the belly cast arrived, ONE week old Rowan Jack. SB joked at one point, 'The invitation said bring your own beverage, not baby.'

Here is SB with cute baby #207, making my ovaries hurt.

When my friend arrived with her wee three, the first thing the middle one said was, "where is your birthday cake?" I had to tell her that I didn't have one. Shame! She didn't seem to understand a party without cake.

Never fear, Lovely Friend left and went and got me two birthday cakes. Here, she struggles under the weight of ALL THOSE CANDLES. By the way, Lovely Friend, those must have been some powerful candles because my job related wish came true the very next day!

I don't think I have ever posted a picture of my BFF who lives in Portland. She has driven up here (2 hrs north) for the last three weekends for various events. I owe her a few trips down south. She will henceforth be referred to by her blog code name, Loll, a famous mis-pronunciation of her real name by an old, drunken, college professor. She rules.

More fun partyness:

I was wishing that I had put 'no gifts' on the invitation because I hate the part where everyone looks at you while you open presents, but I am not sure it would have worked anyway. I never listen to that, I can hardly expect others to. It was fine, though, because I waited until the end and I was drunky enough I didn't much mind.

Speaking of drunky, in my old age I have developed a taste for Old Lady White Zin. With ice, no less. I am mocked for this, understandably, but that's some good shit! I was given a box of Franzia by two such mockers, who included a nice bottle of rose' to soften the blow. Guess which one I will drink first?

It was an excellent party! I have even managed to avoid the post-party, hyper-critical, self-anylization I usually subject myself to*. I did spend the following day suffering from an 8 on the hangover scale, thus I have had my, oh, thrice yearly reminder that alcohol is NOT MY FRIEND.

* Uh, except for that one glamorous friend who arrived after I was well and truely trashed whom I fell upon while trying to navigate the patio chairs. Awesome.

DOON ta tek TAH tek TAH, doon doon TEK!

2006-05-10T22:06:00.000-07:00

I have always been facinated by bellydancing. Really! It is my first career goal, actually. I don't remember much from childhood but I do remember being about 4 or 5 and seeing bellydancers at the Puyallup Fair and dedciding that that was the job for me. I think I only remember this because I was asked soon after by some lame adult what I wanted to be when I grew up, and my answer caused much laughing and carrying on. I was astute enough to realize that this meant I had said something ridiculous.

While we were in England and I was lonely and miserable, I read this book and my passion for the dancing of the belly was renewed. The main character has lost her job, her boyfriend, has moved in with her parents, and feels like a loser. Of course, she starts taking bellydancing and turns her life around. I wasn't expecting such drastic results, but at the time, I definietly needed something to get me going.

So, when we got home, I googled Seattle and Bellydancing and the first thing to pop up was Delilah's website. Little did I know that just by virtue of geography, I was about to start studying with a bellydancing legend! God. I could go on and on about Delilah. She is hottness incarnate. She is in her 50's and she is the sexiest woman I have ever seen. Her eyes are so alive. I almost feel like she is some sort of magical person. During class she will often go off on tangents about dance being like music for your soul. Dance shouldn't be like punctuation, you should be telling a story with your body. She is totally against choreography, and she has even said that we don't consider paint by numbers art, and neither is choreographed dance. It should come from within!

Here she is last year at the Fremont Solstice Parade.

Needless to say, this philosophy of dance is a little intimidating when you don't feel like there is much 'within' to draw from. I think I took three beginning bellydance classes before I could even shimmy, but I loved every minute of it. Partly because of my ginormous crush on Delilah, but also because somewhere, somehow, I was starting to incorporate a whole different standard of beauty and power. It is so amazing to shift your body idols from starving hollywood starlets to a proud, kickass woman in her 50's.

I am still terrified of performing. I am not sure that will ever change. I did once, but it was only in class and I about died from the stress. I just like taking classes and dancing with a bunch of other women and getting a good workout. We have live drummers in our classes, too, which totally rules.

Well, add my love of dancing with others with my dislike of indivdual performance to my love of Parades and the Fremont Solstice Parade is a dream come true!

I am about 6 back from the front, but you won't be able to find me. But check out the naked woman in the lower left.

Yes, naked woman. Fremont used to be the hippie/biker part of Seattle back in the day when the parade began. It starts with a couple hundred naked cyclists and continues with all kinds of crazy human powered floats, clever banner-less political statements, bellydancers, and all kinds of other things that make the right nervous. It's a hoot.

The reason I bring all this up now is that last night was my first rehearsal for this year's parade on June 17th. I have been on a bit of a bellydance hiatus since we got the house and I could focus on nothing else, but it was SO good to be back. Delilah was in rare form, all done up with a dramatic turban thing and many hip scrarves. I felt so cool being a veteran!

Here is a picture of me in the costume my mom and I made for last year's parade. This year the colors are red and gold, so I will just have to replace the purple bits. I am so glad I get to wear it agian!

Everyone makes their own costumes, you just have to stick to the color theme. It is amazing how cool it turns out.

I didn't have hardly any hair last year and it just didn't seem right, so we made that cool turban. I loved it, but this year I am going to try something different with one of those round, stretchy, accordian clips and a gold head scarf and dramatic cat eyes. Fun!

This is when we stopped in the center of the parade and did our special circle dance. I got picked to be in the middle and I nearly died under the weight of Delilah's approval.

Stay tuned for parade class updates in the coming weeks and if you are local, please come to the parade! It is SO fun and colorful and crazy and the bellydancers are just a tiny part of it!

Don't I look like a real bellydancer here? I still feel like such a faker.

Ahhhh....Paradise.

2006-05-08T18:43:00.000-07:00

Please don't hate me for this post, but I am about to get my tropical vacation brag on.

We had a really good time! I didn't have LOW expectations, more like no expectations. I had never spent more than two hours with any of these people before this trip, so I had no idea how it was going to go. Also, it is wierd to go on a vacation that you had no part in planning. I am usually the one who makes all the arrangements, but this time it was all done for us. It was lovely to give my inner Cruise Director the week off and let my business executive step-mother-in-law take the reins. I would be all, 'What time are we supposed be there?' 'When do we have to return the rental car?' and then I would remember, I am not in charge. It was great! Is this how SB feels all the time?*

One of the highlights was renting a pontoon boat and cruising around the intracoastal waterway. It was HOT and wonderful and we saw lots of wildlife! There were beautiful snow white birds that looked like flamingoes with straighter necks. They would stand out so brightly against the tropical, green foliage. But, birds schmirds, we saw DOLPHINS. Close enough that I could see their shiny grey skin glint in the sun. They did not do any tricks, though. I am embarrassed to say that I kind of expected such antics, but we really just saw them swoop up for air and go back down. Still! Dolphins? Are you kidding me?

Here we are, beached, looking for shells. If you look really close, you might see SB snoozing on the back.

Sister-in-law, photographing the nature.

We stayed in a rented beach house on the most beautiful and empty beach. The waves were a little too scary for swimmimg but the water was so much warmer than the Pacific. Up here, anyway.

SB, taking it easy.

They took us out for dinner every night to a different, fun, sunsetty, waterfront-type place. We always got to have a round of cocktails first. So luxurious!

Another favorite part of the trip was the car they rented for us. Driving around in a convertible in the sweet, warm, tropical air was such a treat.

You should know that I took about 8 million pictures of the water and the sky, but this is one of my favorites.

Of course, we returned to a grey, cold, Pacific Northwest spring day and I had to immediately put on a turtleneck and jeans and the great indignity of socks and shoes. But atleast we don't have hurricanes, right? (or palm trees, warm oceans, dolphins, sandals in May...)

*Just kidding, sweetie. :)

The big three-oh.

2006-04-28T14:34:00.000-07:00

Today is the day! I am officially in my thirties. I don't think I feel any different. I don't think I need to have an identity crisis over it. Maybe it is because I have a lot of friends that are older than me and I have been going to 30th birthday parties for years. They didn't seem old to me then, and now THEY are closing in on MID thirties. Heh.

I have heard from these friends that life just keeps getting better. I am starting to see what they were saying, but for a long time I didn't believe them. I remember a time in my late 20's* when I worried that that was it. I felt like I had done all the hard work figuring out who I was, I had chosen my mate, and life was at its best. This scared me though, because life was still a little scary. I felt like those were the best times, and even though I felt like what are we doing/where are we headed/are we always going to be this poor, I knew I better hush up and be thankful because this is IT and I am SO fortunate.

For the last couple of months, though, things have been REALLY good. The house is wonderful, SB is enjoying his work and being rewarded for his efforts, and I just generally feel happy. Excited about life. Maybe all those OLDER, wiser, friends knew what they were talking about. I am trying not to think I am about to be hit by a bus and just enjoy it.

But is my blog boring because of it? Maybe. The best blogs I read include heart-wrenching tales of sometimes very difficult, very personal things*. I don't want my blog to be all hearts and flowers. I have spent time pondering this issue, but I guess I just don't have anything heart wrenching to talk about lately, and for that I am very thankful. So, the best I can hope for is to write honestly, to not censor the joy or the sadness when it comes.

* Don't I sound more wise already?
** see Crazy Aunt Purl getting over her ex or She Walks losing her mom, but only if you have tissues handy.

____________

I know that reading other people's horoscopes is not terribly interesting but check out mine for today:

Happy Birthday for Friday April 28, 2006
You embody unusual magnetism and get-up-and-go this year. Creativity, ideas, and magnetism all become your trademarks. Often, others will seek you out for answers and solutions. Pick and choose your battles, interests, and goals, because it would be a shame to scatter this positive energy. Confusion could surround a domestic or personal matter, possibly because you don't want to see the facts.
Tonight: Act like the world is your oyster. It is.

Pretty good, eh? I'll keep my eyes peeled for those facts.

____________

I don't make New Year's resolutions because I feel like shit that time of year, and embarking on any kind of self improvement project is utter folly. I usually set goals on my birthday.

Last year they were:
make buying a house a reality
do not fall off the work out wagon
get a new job

I did okay. We bought a house, and that seemed impossible a year ago. I have had to run to catch up with the work out wagon a couple of times, but I have not lost sight of it.

I still have the J-O-B, though. So that will have to go on this year's list.

Goals for my thirtieth year:

-Get a new job that hopefully pays me for my efforts. I am through slaving away, underpaid, in the non-profit sector. Can I please sell out? Please?

-Keep the workout wagon in sight but love yourself all the same. I work hard to stay fit and healthy, but for the first time, in the last year, I have noticed that things are shifting a bit, if you know what I mean. Finding new and different homes, really.

-Take a big trip. (Thailand Dec-Jan 07?)

-Remember the Liverpool Lessons* and choose to be happy.

-Take the Pill every day. It is not quite time yet.

-Practice Spanish and the Guitar. This is on every goal list I have made for the past 5 years and I have done a piss poor job. Hence, I am losing my formally fluent Spanish with each passing day, and I can only play 2 songs on my beautiful guitar, which sits lonely in the corner, the collected dust mocking me.

*I will get to those at some point.

___________

So, yeah, thirty! I am am excited to start a new decade of possibilities. God! When I think about turning 20 a hundred years ago, it makes me a little apprehensive about the changes in store. Atleast now I won't have to worry about adult acne anymore, right? RIGHT?!? Please tell me I don't still have to endure zits in my 30's. I'm over it.

___________

SB and I are off to Daytona Beach tomorrow for a week of sun, sand, and inlaws. I am not sure if I will be able to check in from the wilds of Florida, but I am sure to have stories when I get back. See ya!

The Patio. It is finished.

2006-04-26T21:01:00.000-07:00

Here is what it looked like when we moved in. Icky, patchy, weedy grass, with lots of construction site crap ground in.

Here it is after we moved lots of dirt. It was one of the first warm days of spring when we got started. It felt good to have a project that day. We had a poor worksite safety record, though.

Ta Da!

And ooooh! You should see it with the candles and tiki torches lit, and the fire going. I nearly pee myself with joy, it is so pretty.

Before anyone starts bestowing us with any unearned DIY cred, we ended up calling in a professional. We had this great idea that we were going to make cement tiles with a mold that we borrowed from my parents. It was actually a pretty good plan, and I think it would have turned out nicely, except that we could only make ONE TILE A DAY. At some point I did the math, and even though there was over a month until my thirtieth birthday party, we would never be finished in time. In the end, a nice Australian guy named David came over and poured us a perfect patio. Hey, atleast we dug the hole.

I want to get about ten times more plants but I have to wait for the sting to wear off from all these. SB is a very tolerant and kind husband who manages to only wince slightly when checking out at Home Despot.

It's not broken.

2006-04-24T12:34:00.000-07:00

On friday morning a friend and I descended upon our lovely pregnant friend* and made a cast of her beautiful belly for posterity's sake, and also as a shower activity. First we wrapped her in saran wrap. We had to do some creative molding because a uni-boob was not acceptable. There have been amazing advancements in plaster of paris technology, by the way. It now comes in gauzy rolls with the goo already applied. You just have to dip it in warm water and slap it right on. It turned out so well! I was afraid that this was going to be one of those good ideas that didn't quite work out.

Isn't it beautiful?

It only took about 15 minutes to dry, and then it came right off. Everyone helped decorate it at the shower. It actually looked really good until someone's 3 year old decided to contribute. It's okay though, because the owner of this belly is a fantastic artist and I told her from the beginning that she could do it more justice than we could and that she should paint over it.

*This sounds like I only have one pregnant friend. HA! I have six. SIX.

____________

This is the last week of my twenties. I don't really have anything else to add.

TGIF

2006-04-21T15:14:00.000-07:00

It is 3:15. One hour and 45 minutes until a very epic weekend begins. Oh, how the minutes tick painfully by. It is a beautiful, blue sky friday and I am the only sucka here. Which of course means, I've done the bare minimum of work today and I am about to be super naughty and climb out the window onto the roof for a smokey treat. HA!

I did something very fun and blog worthy this AM but I want to be able to post appropriate pictures and I haven't downloaded them yet. Stay Tuned.

____________

So, you may have noticed the fun little button I have added over there ----> regarding the BlogHer conference. I am, first of all, very proud that I loaded that sucker on here, as I was just guessing about where I should add the code to my template. You are very impressed, no?

But, yes! I am going! I am so freaking excited. I am going to get to meet and hang out with Whinger and SheWalks in the flesh. IRL! Dooce is a speaker so I will get to see her lovliness with my own eyes.

Though I am new to this blogging thing, I am so hooked. I know it's not everyone's bag*, but some of you get it. I can't wait to learn more about writing and also about techie type stuff. Also, when 'Cocktails by the Pool' is part of a conference's agenda, you know it is going to be a good time.

*I have had to endure a bit of good natured teasing about going to a blogger conference, which sounds like the height of geekiness if you don't get it. Whatever.

___________

The hair growing process continues. I know that my before and after pictures dont look that different, and the after even looks shorter. I swear she only took the tee-tiniest bit off the ends, though, and it is just a little flat due to the excessive product applied at the salon. I realize that getting haircuts is not the best way to grow your hair, but I MUST have good hair and the messy grow out phase is not for me. We have previously discussed my shamefull vanity.

Before:

After:

I am having more fun already. If you would like to check your own hair, you should be able to do so in the shine on my forhead

Rock Stars

2006-04-19T12:58:00.000-07:00

Besides being an undervalued employee for J-O-B, I am a doula. A doula is a birthing assistant that a woman hires to help her to have a satisfying birth. I can provide assistance with massage, positioning, visualization techniques, or just another pair of hands. There is always LOTS to do at a birth. I have attended many hospital births as well as homebirths, but to me, the location doesn't much matter. What matters is helping the birthing mother to do what our bodies are made to do.

So many women are afraid of giving birth and it just makes my heart hurt. They are convinced they need all kinds of medical support and interventions to do something that women all over the world accomplish every day. I wish I could scream from the rooftops, "WOMEN! YOU CAN DO IT! YOU ARE STRONG AND POWERFUL AND CAPEABLE!"

An aquaintance of mine is pregnant right now, and is due in a couple of months. This woman is a powerhouse business executive who kicks many asses daily, yet she is afraid to give birth. I wish I knew her a little better so I could give her a peptalk. I wish I could remind her that she is a strong and powerful woman in other aspects of her life, there is no reason to believe that she wont rock her birth experience as well.

Back in the day, before a woman gave birth herself, she had ususally attended the births of her siblings, family members, and neighbors, not to mention the barnyard animals. She would have seen for herself the power of women and the support provided by mothers and grandmothers and midwives, and that birth is a NORMAL, everyday, process. Today, birth is scarier, I believe, because we have not had these experiences. I could go on and on about modern birth practices, but the fact that a woman who labors in the hospital labors alone*, contributes to the scariness of her birth and her belief that she needs interventions.

Believe it or not, I am getting somewhere. What I intended to post about today was my irratation with the Hollywood portrayal of birth as an emergency. In the movies, one minute a pregnant woman is enjoying a candlelit dinner, looking glamorous, and the next, she is clutching her belly and screaming in agony! Get her to the hospital! The baby is going to fall out RIGHT NOW!

That is not how it works**. Labor does not hit you like a freight train, it is very well designed. It builds slowly, giving you time to adjust. That is never how it happens in the movies though! NO WONDER women are afraid. NO WONDER women expect birth to be quick. And no wonder, the average bear believes pregnancy and birth to be a sickness and an emergency***.

* Not all the time, and not everywhere, but the average is about 6 minutes of attention per hour. I don't think anyone imagines themselves laboring alone, so this is surprising.

** Rarely, of course, it does. But NEVER with first babies, that's for sure.

*** GIANT POST DISCLAIMER: I am a DONA trained doula, I have attended many births, I have a GREAT faith in the ability of healthy women to have powerful, satisfying birthing experiences, but I have not done it myself. So, if you like, you may consider me full of poo. (Atleast I'm a woman, though. There are plenty of MEN out there tellling women the exact opposite. )

____________

Speaking of births, I am having a baby shower this weekend at my house. I am SO excited about it. I literally begged my friend to let me throw her a shower. We lived in my parent's basement for a year to save for our house and it killed me to not have a proper place to entertain. She has invited about 30 people and only one has RSVP'd no, so it is going to be a full house. I LOVE throwing parties, but getting to have them in MY house? It's like I've died and gone to heaven.

This party will feature a special guest star coming up from Sacramento for the festivities as well as my BFF from Portland. I am sitting here just giddy about it. The older we get, these times when all my ladies are together are just so precious.

Hoppy Easter!

2006-04-16T17:51:00.000-07:00

I am pleased to report that my family's Easter activities consist of omlettes and french toast. No stuffy outfits or stuffy activities, and this year as an added bonus, we were entirely free of annoying relatives. One annoying aunt ditched us for the other annoying aunt's Easter. Everyone wins!

Sadly, my mom declared a few years ago that my sister and I were too old for Easter baskets. Can you believe it?

____________

Today I did a very satisfying project. Over hundreds of cigarettes, I have pondered my front porch and it's possibilities.

Here is the front porch BEFORE:

That lattice trim was a bad idea. I have wanted to take it down all along, but it was kind of a project because of the painting necessary after it's removed. But today was a beautiful day and I finally did it. I used a power tool and removed many long screws while balancing on a stool, then I repainted the trim. See how you notice the cool trim on the ceiling more now?

And look! Hanging baskets*.

____________

This tree grows in my yard. Six months ago we lived in my parent's basement. If you need me, I'll be over here, counting my blessings**

* My fingers smell like dirt right now. I kinda like it.
** and my hanging baskets.

New Shoes!

2006-04-12T16:08:00.000-07:00

Over the weekend, I bought a new pair of shoes. I was looking for a pair of sneakers that didn't look too grubby that I could wear with jeans. I found these and I LOVE them. Really. I have spent the last two days admiring my feet. I like to take them off and look at all their nice stitching and I will admit to sniffing them more than once.

Here they are:

Here is the Born website. I apologize for any addictions I may be triggering.

Anyway, something wierd and funny just happened. I was getting in the elevator at J-O-B, when I saw two women approaching the front doors. I decided to be a good citizen and hold the elevator for them, even though they were SLOW MOVERS*. When they were coming through the front doors, I heard one say to the other in an unmistakably bitchy tone, "Who is that?" The other answered, "I don't know but she is holding the elevator for us". I smiled at them, to let them know I had heard them, but they ignored me. Then, while the elevator began lumbering upwards, the first one with the bitchy tone whispers to the other, highschool girl style, "Those look like bowling shoes."

Isn't that funny? Some people just shouldn't be let outside. I should have said something to her, but really, I couldn't believe that she thought she could WHISPER in a metal box about someone standing two feet away.

These two were clearly the critical types that spend too much of their time putting other women down. The kicker is, they were both 50something, frumpy, office types. When I am 50 and I see someone younger than me wearing something I think is ugly, I will just assume that it is fashionable and that the youngster knows better. Hell, I do it now, when I see what teenagers are wearing these days**. At the very least, I will wait until they are out of earshot to mock them.

* Gah! Slow movers get out of my way!
** What? Where's my cane?

The red hydroplane won, and the ball was under cap #3.

2006-04-09T17:46:00.000-07:00

We went to the Mariners game today with a lovely friend. They lost to the Athletics 6-4, but it was still a fun game*. They scored two of those runs in the bottom of the 9th, after about half of the stadium had cleared out. I love that all of those people who just NEEDED to be first out of the parking lot missed the best inning. HA!

SB enjoying his $8 beer**.

Thank you, lovely friend, for the tickets! Let's plan to go to a midweek day game this summer and wear tanktops and sunglasses and drink cold lemonade and eat sunflower seeds.

For you, Herbie.

*after posting this, I am laughing at how grey and dismal Seattle looks. I had actually thought it was such a nice day! It didn't rain, it wasn't too cold, and the sky was high and bright.

** That is not a straw in his beer. It is the foul pole.

Starting 'em young

2006-04-06T15:09:00.000-07:00

SB and I were perusing the Pottery Barn Kids catalogue last night when we saw something very disturbing:

WHAT THE HELL IS THAT? Baby's first Tiki Bar? Here is where your kid pretends to make drinks and then he pretends to get drunk!? Can you believe they sell such a thing? What's next, Baby Beer Bongs? My First Shot Glass?

____________

Speaking of tiki bars and parentally sponsored drinking, SB and I have been invited to spend a week in a condo on the beach in Florida by his Dad and his wife, Sandy. I am such a brat for wishing it was in Miami, but it is actually Daytona Beach. I am hoping there is atleast one or two non-Nascar themed tiki bars there. These are republicans from Indiana, so of course, Daytona is their ideal beach vacation. I could care less, though, really. Anywhere there is a beach and sparkly water and an umbrella drink is okay by me. I am willing to keep my liberal yapp shut for 7 days, I can only hope our generous hosts can do the same. (though, with the joyous news of Libby fingering Bush in the leak scandal, I may need to bring some duct tape. :doesliberalhahadanceofjoy )
____________

Susie: Are you going to the Tiki Bar later?
Sally: Yeah, I was thinking about it. That bartender is totally HOT.

A blast from the past

2006-04-01T15:51:00.000-08:00

Today at J-O-B, I encountered my first grade and fourth grade teachers. They pretended to remember me, but how the heck could they? They are both about 100 years old and I was not a very remarkable child.

I have discussed this with others and I know that I am kind of a freak, but I don't remember anything before about the age of 10, or fourth grade. The things I think I do remember, I am convinced it is only because of the pictures I have seen. I know that I wasn't abused or otherwise traumatized, I just don't remember being a small child. It is like I don't remember anything before I had a sense of self. SB claims to remember being an infant even, as do several of my friends. My only comfort is that my mom says she doesn't remember anything from before that age either, so atleast I can blame genetics.

Seeing Ms. M. from fourth grade, though, brought back a few gems:

The Clean Desk Witch
While we were out to recess, Ms. M. would open everyone's desk and inspect for cleanliness. If your desk was clean, you got a little orange note form the Clean Desk Witch congratulating you on your tidyness, and I think a coupon for popcorn on porcorn day. If your desk was messy, however, you would return from recess to find your desk dumped out all over the floor. My loud mouthiness and confidence did not take root until much later, so I remember being SO EMBARRASSED the one time this happened to me, trying to hold back tears while a retreived my pencils and erasers from where they had rolled across the floor. Come to think of it, perhaps I have Ms. M to thank for traumatizing me into an organized person. To this day, my desk at home is neat and tidy and safe from the Clean Desk Witch.

Tom Seleck
Ms. M. had pictures of Tom Seleck, mustachioed back in those days, taped inside her teacher closet. This was of course pre-Monica older man hottness, and even then I thought Tom was a strange object of her affections.

The Contacts
After Lunch Recess every day, Ms. M. would read to us for about a half an hour. This is actually a good memory, as it was always nice to come inside after running around and and sit quietly. Except for the contact lenses. While she was reading, she would take out her contacts one at a time and PUT THEM IN HER MOUTH, suck on them for a bit, then stick them back into her eyes. This was nearly as frightening as the Clean Desk Witch.

The Sentence
I loved school , so when Ms. M. would pass out a worksheet, I would instantly attack it with much vim and vigor and race to be one of the first to turn it it. Often, I neglected a very important step. Putting my name on my paper. In retalliation, Ms. M. would assign the following sentence to be written in perfect penmanship 100 times:

I realize that when I do not put my name on my paper, Ms. Mreallylongname has no way of knowing whose paper it is.

Isn't that fucking brutal?

____________

Dental update: My tooth is fixed. It is like it never happened, though it is shaped slightly differently. My lip chewing and cutical biting capabilities are greatly diminished.
_____________

Just because.

The Patio attacked me.

2006-03-27T10:47:00.001-08:00

You will not believe what happened to me yesterday. Sb works from home most of the time so he finished digging out the rest of the patio this week. About 3/4 of the way through, he unearthed this big cement pond thing. It is was about 5ft by 4 ft, and then 2ft deep, and it was totally burried under the grass. Yesterday my dad came over to help start the smoothing and framing process for the cement tiles we are putting in, and he brought over a sledge hammer to break it up. SB took three swings, broke the handle, and discovered that there was rebar all through it. They sent me to Home Depot for a new sledge hammer but by the time I got back, they had decided that the patio was just going to have to be smaller and that we would be covering the pond back up. That pissed me off, so I decided to give swinging the sledge hammer a try. It was a challenging work week, so I had plenty of aggression to burn, anyway. At first my dad and SB just watched me, all amused, but then they realized that while I was making SLOW progress, I was definitely conquering the stoopid thing. Well, I had about half of the thing broken up and hauled away, when a mighty swing sent a shard flying up into my face and CHIPPED MY FUCKING FRONT TOOTH.

Fuck.

Right. No health insurance. I went inside to survey the damage and of course I started to cry. I have (had) really nice teeth.

So, we have a family friend who is a dentist but he is out of the office today. My mom is trying to get a hold of him. Meanwhile, I can't keep my tongue off of it, eating makes me cringe, and SB has started calling me Chip. I am not amused.

But look at our progress!

Aren't you impressed?

I have a YARD.

2006-03-21T22:29:00.000-08:00

Oh how I longed for a yard for so so long. The yard at My Beautiful New House is basicly a blank slate. The front yard has grass and a fence and a bed that needs ripping out. The back yard is a fenced rectangle with a big magnolia tree in the middle. Over the weekend, we had our first nice days since we moved in in December, and we got to work. Oh the plans I have. I like to stand on the porch and ponder them, finger tent tapping like Mr. Burns.

This is my mom. She is wielding a tiny chainsaw on a stick* out my bedroom window. CAN YOU FREAKING BELIEVE MY MOM? The tan! Those muscles! She is 54 for godssakes.

Will I ever be as cool as my mom?

____________

SB and I started THE GREAT PATIO PROJECT. We have decided to rip out half our back yard and put in a cement tile patio. It's going to be so pretty. Just wait.

The backyard is uneven, though, so our vision requires digging out about 6 inches to about a foot and a half of dirt from a 20'x 14' foot area. We're half done**. Stay tuned for further updates. It WILL be completed before my 30th birthday party.

* That is her tool, btw. She has so many tools, that one of them is a tiny chaisaw on a stick.

** SO sore.

Workin' in a Coal Mine

2006-03-17T16:10:00.000-08:00

I have a regular customer service J-O-B. I could tart it up for you, like I do in cover letters and resumes, but essentially, I work with THE PUBLIC. It is my belief that people who have to interact with THE PUBLIC are never paid enough for the abuse THE PUBLIC dishes out.

The standard of customer service that people expect these days is very high. It seems to me that people rarely stop to recognize that the person they are expecting such grand treatment from probably makes minimum wage, definitely doesn't have any health benefits, and is probably not allowed to deviate from a corporate script*. The employee is supposed to act like a machine, and the customers treat them like they aren't human.

Working customer service can really sour you towards humanity. But the thing is, I love people. I love to people-watch. I love to eavesdrop. I love to read blogs. People are facinating. I am working hard at not losing this love for my fellow man, but it's tough when he acts like such an asshole most of the time.

I am pleased to report, however, that TODAY, humanity brought me flowers and a fancy pear tart! I helped a very high maitenance woman this morning. I was pretty annoyed with her underneath, but only because she was taking 15 minutes to do something I can normally wrap up in 2.5. I had to help two other people in between helping her, and they were both short with me and in hurries. She finally finished up, thanked me, and went on her way. About an hour later, she came back with these beautiful flowers and she thanked me for my help, and for all I do for J-O-B. I nearly cried. How fucking nice is that?

I have decided that while those flowers live on my desk, I am not allowed to get grumpy at work. NO ONE shall penetrate my zen bubble.**

* My job isn't quite THAT bad, but I give a shout out to all my customer service brethren.

** We'll see how that goes.

Instant Karma

2006-03-10T12:35:00.000-08:00

Last night, I did one of my favorite things, I went through all my doubles of pictures and wrote nice cards and had everything all ready to go to post this morning on the way to work. I love sending fun cards with pictures to my friends. Isn't it the greatest thing to get fun mail? Something in your mailbox other than bills and junk?

I know the post office is never a quick errand, but today when I walked in there was no line. I was next! Then, two seperate dudes, who had apparently waited before, did the 'go straight to the front' thing. I was getting annoyed because I was about to be late for work. The ONE postal employee saw my annoyed face, and announced loudly to me, the first person in what was now a long line, "they already waited and I told them to ccome straight tp the front." I HATE attention like that, so I just smiled and said it was just fine. When it was finally my turn, he weighed and posted all 4 of my small packages, made a snide remark that still slipped under the customer service radar (my specialty when dealling with assholes at MY job), and gave me my total, $14.93. I handed him my debit card, while glancing at the clock. Two minutes until I am supposed to be to work. Awesome. Then, the Karma struck. My card was declined*. Now the line of 10 or so people is sighing loudly and it is ME that is holding up the process. I had to go out to my car and scrounge up change and I was still a dollar short**. Then it was ME going to the front of the line. I had to tell Mr. Grumpy that I wanted to put back the stamps, and just mail the packages. He took his sweet damn time, re-ringing me up while I started to sweat and my skin was crawling with all of the mean stares of the people in the line. I finally left there with that gross, tight, stressy feeling in my chest and I have yet to shake it off.

* Ah , the joys of a joint checking account. SB likes to leave as much money as possible in the savings account at the beginning of the month, causing surprising DECLINES on the debit card when there is plenty of money in savings. We always have to transfer some back. What makes this even more annoying, is that I got paid on Wednesday and he has my paycheck which he OBVIOUSLY hasn't deposited yet. (it should be noted that I love him tremendously anyway.)

** This ALWAYS happens to me the day after I have dropped a buck in a street performer's cup. What kind of Karma is that?

Oscar night at the Rialto

2006-03-07T20:31:00.000-08:00

I woke up Sunday morning and realized that while I had organized a group of us to go to the Oscars event at a theater downtown, I did not have anything to wear. I had to work sunday, as well, so I went to the mall on a mission. I had one hour and pretty low expectations of finding something, but I totaly rule. I found a dress really quickly and it was on sale! So, since I had saved money on the dress, I decided to look at shoes, and of course ended up spending twice as much on the shoes as I had spent on the dress. I then had to find a way to justify the expense, of course, so I have since decided that this will be my 30th birthday outfit as well. Brilliant!

My dear husband is such a good sport. He has accepted the fact that he has married a Crazy Camera Lady and that it will just be easier if he goes along with my wims. He let me play paparazzi with the self timer for longer than most would tolerate. He is a good man.

These are two of my favorite people in the world. They are also very good sports about the camera and are always willing to do something silly.

More fun friends. He almost won the Oscar pool! In fact, he was tied for first place but did not answer the tie breaker correctly.

Afterwards back at the ranch. I should have stopped drinking, alas, I did not. Why is alcohol so poisonous in my old age? When did I become such a lightweight?

The Pumpkin Story

2006-03-02T17:18:00.000-08:00

My freshman year of college I lived in a dorm called Highland Hall. It looked exactly like a Motel 6 from the seventies, complete with the orange and yellow alternating panels below each gigantic window. It was a two-story, cement monstrosity with about 8 rooms on either side of each block, and a loud, reverberate-y courtyard between each of the three 'stacks'. I lived on the second floor in stack two. Highland actually kind of kicked ass though, because every two rooms had their own bathroom. Getting to share a bathroom with only three other people is a pretty rare thing in dorm life.

The two girls across the bathroom were Ruth and Elise. Ruth was a brilliant redheaded feminist from Seattle with more brains and sass than normally possible in an 18 year old. Her side of the room was decorated with goddess posters, beautiful photography, and a Darwin fish. Her roommate was Elise, a blond homecoming princess from Lynnwood (the burbs) who talked to her mom on the phone every night and listened to soft rock. Her side of the room was decorated with her homecoming sash, Winnie the Pooh, and that yellow Suzy's Zoo duck. Amazingly enough, the two of them got along just fine, although they would never be best friends.

Sometime in October, Ruth got a huge pumpkin. She had it on her desk, pretty much in the middle of the room. Everyone enjoyed the pumpkin while seasonally appropriate, but Elise started to get a bit tired of it once December rolled around. She asked Ruth multiple times in as politely and non-confrontational way as possible to please get rid of the pumpkin.

One night during Finals week in Mid December, Elise asked again, nicely and politlely, if Ruth could please throw the pumpkin away because it was starting to smell. I was sitting at Ruth's desk at the time and sniffed for myself that yes, the pumpkin was starting to smell and was also fun to poke, as it was becoming very soft and mushy.

It was a Wednesday night and Ruth and I were trying to study together in her room. All our friends were done with their finals, as was everyone else in the dorm apparently, because the 23 hour quiet hours were not being observed. We just tolerated the noise, though, until around midnight when we couldn't take it anymore and decided to ask the people down in the reverberate-y courtyard if they could PLEASE be quiet. This was back in the early nineties at a state school and believe it or not, smoking was allowed in the dorms. We lived in Stack 2, Stack 1 was the smoking stack. These silly college students were of course not enjoying smoking indoors while they could, they smoked outside, in the reverberate-y courtyard. This was not Ruth's first run-in with, as she called them, 'the Smoking Bitches'.

This first request was met with some grumbling, but they did indeed go back inside. It was around this time that I decided to go to bed. Ruth, the overacheiver, stayed up and kept studying.

About an hour later, as smokers do, the Smoking Bitches reconvened in the reverberate-y courtyard for another loud, chatty smoke. Ruth asked them again, maybe not so nicely this time, to please shut the fuck up. They ignored her of course.

Later, at about 3 am or so, Ruth was still up studying when the Smoking Bitches, probably more drunk and thus more loud, gathered in the courtyard, right below Ruth's room. Ruth, sober, tired, and stressed out, lost the 'please' and told them to shut the fuck up or she was calling campus security. All drunks love a common enemy, however, and they were soon engaged in a most undignified shouting match. Ruth could take no more. She marched back into her room, past an innocently sleeping Elise, picked up the pumpkin, and hurled it over the railing at the offending Smoking Bitches. It hit one of them in the shoulder, covering her in rotten pumpkin goo, before crashing to the cement, exploding pumpkin guts in a twenty foot radius, covering the Smoking Bitches entirely.

Ruth enjoyed this scene for all of 5 seconds before she realized she was about to get her ass kicked. She ran back in her room, past the innocently sleeping Elise, through the bathroom, through my room, out the other side of the stack, and down a few doors to her boyfriend's room. Elise never mentioned anything about an angry pumpkin covered mob pounding on her door in the middle of the night, so we can only assume they didn't know which room was Ruth's and gave up. She did thank Ruth for finally getting rid of the pumpkin, though.

The next day, Ruth was again studying when there was a timid knock upon her door. It was Jason, the Residential Director. Jason was a hippie with long hair and bare feet, and he was majorly bummed about the pumpkin incident. Ruth would have to attend anger management classes, he was afraid, or risk acedemic probation for her assault.

Ruth attended just one of the five required classes. She had to sit in a circle with others convicted of assault on campus and talk about her anger. Amongst thugs and fighters she relayed the story of the the Smoking Bitches, the pumpkin, and her ANGER. Three years later, with graduation approaching, she lived in fear that she would be informed that she had to attend four more anger management classes before she could graduate, but somewhere, someone let it slide. Apparently, assault with a rotting pumkin is not a degree witholding offense.

Paris

2006-02-27T11:27:00.000-08:00

Ah, Paris. The year SB and I were living in England, we spent 5 days there over Christmas and I fell in love. I have done a fair bit of traveling and I have never been bitten like Paris. I could go there a hundred times and never wish to go elsewhere.

There are endless things to see and do in Paris, and the best part is, You, as a foreigner with 10 words of french to your name, can reach all these wonderful corners on kickass public transportation. Have I mentioned my uber-dorky love of maps? Isn't it beautiful?

Paris was full of magical little moments. One night, we were walking down a lovely, narrow, curving street, giddy with the twinkly christmas lights and high on adventure. I decided to buy some cheese*. I practiced my three cheese-buying sentences and followed my nose into a tiny, fragrant, shop. I stumbled through the process, feeling a little embarrassed for the iritation the shop owner seemed to have with me, but nevertheless emerged triumphant with the delicious fruits of my efforts. As I love fancy paper almost as much as cheese, we next wondered into a heavenly stationary store. Several minutes later, back on the street, we had resumed our twinkly evening stroll when the cheese man comes charging up, all out of breath, and hands me a bag with half of my cheese in it. He hadn't put it all in my bag by mistake. I couldn't properly thank him, and he couldn't properly explain what had happened. He said, 'your cheese!' and I said 'Merci!' and we both did a lot of smiling and nodding. It was such a great moment.

Sadly, we were there in the age before digital, so I can't post any of the 8 million pictures I took, but this is so beautiful it made me cry. Paris at night, 360 degrees**. I love how you can see into a few cozy little apartments.

* Fromage is definintely one of my 10 french words.

** You might want to mute your speakers for this one.

____________

A treat from my yard.

Living juicy

2006-02-23T21:13:00.000-08:00

I had a great time with my now real life friend, Vicky this weekend. She was neither pervy nor was she 14. She was just like she is online, smart and beautiful.

The party was suitably swanky and took place here. The food was good, as were the free flowing Oregon wines and microbrews. Vicky and I had fun looking at all the old timey stuff and people watching.

I had such so much fun and I am proud of myself for going. Sometimes I can allow myself too many couch/blanket/DVD/internet evenings.

Speaking of that, what's that all about, anyway? Is it just because it is winter? I don't really think so. I want to live juicy and make plans and you know, leave the house, but it just seems so HARD. Lucky for you, I have analized the whole thing already, and for me, the answer is exercise. Just about two months ago, I was working out every day. Without fail. Part of the routine. Then we got the house and I have been to the gym, 5 times maybe in 2 months. I walk to work every day so I am getting a little exercise but clearly not enough for my slower than snot metabolism, as evidenced by my ever expanding ass.

For some reason, exercise is like my celexa. When I am working out regularly, it is like my inner critic is silenced. I feel like I can tell that little voice that I'm working on it, so piss off. Without exercise, good lord, I am a social anxiety mess. I want to stay home. When I do go out, later I end up tossing and turning, replaying conversations in my head, I-can't-believe-I-said-that-ing all night long.

So, duh, right? I need to get off my ass and make exercise a part of my routine again. Why is it so hard to get started when you KNOW it is the answer?

Tonight I am going to a hiphop aerobics class. It might be cool or it might be excellent blog fodder. I'll let you know.

____________

In rodent news, this morning, some strapping lads with big ladders blocked up Stubby's supposed entrances to my eaves. SB was still worried about Stubby being trapped inside, but I don't think he hangs out in there, just scurries about as loudly as possible. I am a little concerned about the store of nuts and twigs that is surely burried in my insulation but as long as they keep quiet, they can stay.

When nature attacks

2006-02-21T14:14:00.000-08:00

You may recall this post wherein I discussed my squirrel problem. See him up there on top of the roof? His name is Stubby. Little fucker.

He has become annoying enough that SB will be calling someone today. I just wish he was a nameless, faceless squirrel. He has this chopped off tail (hence the clever name) so he is distinctive. I am trying not to get too mushy about this, though, because something HAS to be done. I am really hoping for a non-lethal solution*. Can't the someone just come and figure out where he is getting in and block it up? I hope so. However, at this point, I really don't care. MBNH is for me and SB only.

* Did I mention the novelist next door has written a short story about Stubby? God help us.

____________

Nature attacked us again on Thursday night when our fence blew down. Homeownership can be hard to get used to sometimes. Funnily enough, in the wee hours of friday morning, I heard what sounded like lumber blowing about, but I just rolled over and went back to sleep.

Note to self: You are a Home Owner now. The sound of 'lumber blowing about' is cause for alarm.

SB and my Dad fixed 'her right up over the weekend. Here they are posing with the finished fence. SB is not the most naturally gifted towards typical boy things like construction and car repair, so he was VERY proud of himself. All weekend he kept saying 'Hey, remember when I used my powertools and fixed the fence?'

____________

Just so Nature knows that we're still friends (you know she reads my blog) I will praise her magnificence for good measure. It snowed* for a few minutes yesterday and I spent some time in the yard admiring it. For a split second, each snow flake was so pretty on my arm before it melted away.

* This is typical snowfall for around here. It really almost never snows, if then, only for 10 minutes with no stickage. I realize admiring snowflakes is not a novel nor entertaining activity in many parts this time of year.

____________

My neighbors have now observed me giving my roof the bird and photographing my arm. And I looked like such a nice girl. Bummer about the Crazy.

E-homies?

2006-02-17T16:30:00.000-08:00

What do you call your internet peeps? Like, in conversation? Do you ever find yourself telling a story that starts out with 'My friend, well an internet person, actually a blogger I've never met...' and suddenly you are afraid that you sound like a hopelessly lame computer geek who considers strangers on the internet their 'friends'?

I used to be a frequent poster at Mothering.com. I mostly lurked and learned about attachment parenting and natural family living (I am clearly a hippie) until the 2004 elections came around. They used to have a forum called 'War and Politics' that got really heated around that time. It was an interesting group of people to discuss politics with because everyone came from an AP/NFL background. You would think that would be mostly granola-types but there are an awful lot of fundies with similar parenting styles. You know the type, defending the back forty with their home arsenal, etc.

We had just gotten home from living in England for a year and I didn't have a job and my normal obsession with politics was in high gear. After being away, I just wanted to come home and fix my country. So, if it's not clear already, I was one of the loud liberal posters, frequently being warned or ordered to edit when things got too personal. (I am sorry but if you are a fundie republican asshat who wants to police my uterus, the world, and homos in love, your opinion is no longer just your opinion. It is INSULTING to me.) By the election, a tight little group of us had formed that kept each other sane in the trenches. When things didn't go our way, we all kind of went down in a blaze of snark and our little sanity thread was closed down. We all missed each other, though, so we formed our own little board and I have talked to these lovely ladies every day since. There are 10 of us, scattered all over the world, really. Canada, Australia, and all across the US. It's funny. I talk to these women I have never met more often than I talk to my 'IRL' friends. They have become my best friends, actually. Which leaves me struggling with what to call them. They are more than just 'internet people' to me.

I bring all of this up because tomorrow I am going to meet one off them in the flesh! Her name is Vicki and she lives in Portland, about 2 hours south of me. She has invited me to her kickass company party that will be at an historic mansion (with tours!*) and includes food, drinks, music, and fire dancing. Isn't that cool? I can't wait. Stay tuned for a full report. I will definitely tell you if she is actually a 14 year old boy or an old pervy dude who likes to lure women with cool haircuts to Portland** with promises of history and booze.

*Perhaps when I am trying to convince you I am NOT a dork, I should quell my excitement for guided tours.

** Sin City of the Northwest, baby! Smoking is still allowed there, as well as drinking in stripclubs! YeeeeeeeHAW!

New Handle

2006-02-15T12:52:00.000-08:00

When in doubt, go with a Lebowski reference.