Tales of Slow Brave Athena

July 5, 2009

Infinite Summer

I'm participating in Infinite Summer.

Join endurance bibliophiles from around the world in reading Infinite Jest over the summer of 2009, June 21st to September 22nd. A thousand pages ÷ 92 days = 75 pages a week. No sweat.

I'm a big DFW non-fiction fan and have been for a long time, but I hadn't read his fiction.

It's not just because that Infinite Jest is huge, being the DFW novel, and at 1079 pages a big commitment (though he has several written several, less prominent pieces of fiction).

I tend to not read a whole lot of fiction in general, and I want fiction to have the same sorts of affect that I get from nonfiction: I want to learn something from it.

It goes without saying that I am behind, but not as badly as I might have thought. I need to be at p. 168 tomorrow -- I'm currently at p. 124. (This means I'm at 12.6%, which is definitely behind) This long weekend has been good to hole up and read, and also to look at the various other David Foster Wallace reading aids and videos, and IS blogs, etc., and try to make connections.

Last night, I watched Another Random Bit: the perspective of David Foster Wallace, which features parts from his Harpers pieces, A Trip to the Fair, and A supposeably fun thing, which were republished in A supposedly fun thing I'll never do again : essays and arguments. I've loved both the essays, and read them repeatedly, and yet there is something so poetic in hearing his read them before an audience.

But reading Infinite Jest is hard. It's huge, it's vast, and especially at the beginning, it has too many characters, too many stories. It's so complex-- Infinite Jest is one of those things, I fear, that required repeated readings.

Given that I haven't read a physical book in awhile, this has been both daunting, and enjoyable. I've started charting things out, since they aren't presented in a linear sense; the subsidized years, the characters, the connections.

And I did feel like I was wandering in the wilderness until I came to footnote 24, a 9 page filmography of James Incandenza. And then, I started seeing the connections, and feeling like this might make a very interesting map.

***
I'm reading a library copy but I'm not guessing that I'll be able to keep it so I can finish it, so I have a copy on order with my favorite local bookstore... which I hope will get it soon, because I'm beginning to panic... just a little.

***
There is also just way too much here that reveals (in retrospect) the pain that DFW knew. The chapter on Kate Gompert, a suicide in a mental ward, is really painful. I've been there (the emotional part, not the physically locked up part), and knowing that DFW was too... I mean, of course he was there. Which doesn't lessen the sting of his being gone.

***
In another universe, I'm loving Lynda Barry's later works. What It Is is a revelation, the power of reading, of drawing, and the stories that we tell ourselves in doing these things. She writes the Editor's foreword for Best American Comics, 2008 exploring these topics as well.

A couple resources for other Infinite Summerarians:

• A supposably fun blog
• Infinite Zombies
• Human Complex, an addict's (and tennis fan's) guide to IJ
• Livejournal IS group
• IS Progress tracker

permalink July 5, 2009 | Comments (1)

January 22, 2009

hello, again.

I saw Hollie this evening and she asked why I wasn't writing here. Oh dear.

Part of it is having less time than I used. Part of it is just not feeling that happy, and not feeling like I have a lot to share right now.

But I had a really nice evening where I got to hang out with some very nice people, and it reminded me that maybe, at some point, my life will get back to being more warm and less hassle.

I've turned the corner. I'm no longer crying all the time, and while I'm sad a lot, really most of the time, I think it's natural. Of course I'm sad -- my relationship of the last 10 years is gone. It's a big change.

But I'm finding that I can take care of myself. For the most part, I'm not lonely in the house, but I do miss having my best friend close by. I think that might be the hardest part, the separation from my best friend.

In the last few weeks, I've begun housecleaning in earnest. I've been decluttering like a fiend, and the results are getting to be quite visible. A few weeks ago, I started putting away all the stuff that my beloved had given to me, all the "us" stuff, and things that he's left behind that he may or may not ever come back for are going into boxes so I don't have to still be looking at them.

I'm trying to figure out what I want my life to look like -- and what I want my home to look like.

My focus has been very much on my home. Suddenly, I'm feeling very domestic. Today I bought a cute apron at a tienda I happened upon, and I'm in the process of knitting one for myself as well.

I've gotten to obsess about things. I finally just broke down and bought lidded trash cans for the rooms that the cat boxes are in, and I'm so very happy about it.

In the last week or so, I've been obsessed with end tables. I've thought about repurposing something else, always a favorite of mine, but I think I've found what I've wanted -- at least, I've found it and tonight I must sleep on it. Tomorrow, hopefully, I can pick them up.

Work is a mixed bag. I still love my job and still feel very lucky to have it, very lucky to be where I am, but I feel like my new boss is unhappy with me. Initially, I had worked myself into a froth about that, but now I'm feeling a little more secure about things. It's not as I'd like things to be -- I want everyone to adore me. But that's life, isn't it?

permalink January 22, 2009 | Comments (4)

April 12, 2008

motor vehicular breakdown

This has not been my week, transportation-wise.

Admittedly, I finally got my transit pass, which makes me insanely, insanely happy. I was losing hope that I would ever get it.

But, I've had two motorvehicles die on me in 6 days. I'm feeling a little superstitious at this point.

I was running out to Tigard to see a friend on Sunday when my clutch failed on Hwy 26. I got up the Sylvan hill, and up the Sylvan exit, and then the car stopped and refused to go any further.

Two days and a lot of money later, I had a car with a new clutch... that still isn't running right. I wish I had a mechanic that I could trust.

Today, I had thought I would be meeting my friend downtown ... but she wanted to meet at her house (not convenient to public transit). Okay, so I jumped on the scooter. We were going to get breakfast at a wildly popular place, and then go to the Farmer's Market, go to her favorite chocolate shop, REI, and then our favorite restaurant for some good yiddish soul food.

But first, I had to stop at the ATM about 15 blocks away.

And when I tried to start the scooter again, no such luck.

I had a big hill to walk the scooter up, and then of course, the rest of the way home. It took an hour and a half.

It was notable that black folks were the only ones to stop and see how I was doing, or if I needed help. I saw lots of people while I pushed the damn 350# scooter home, the vast majority of them white, but I had one woman commiserate and offer her phone; two guys on bicycles stop and ask how I was doing and if they could help; and a clutch of women on a house stoop commiserated, offered the phone, and offered to help.

Two of my neighbors (also african-american) scolded me for not calling them (if only I had had their numbers with me!).

Obviously I need a new plan of action. I'm going to:

1. get on a towing plan (AAA or BetterWorld)
2. get a new cellphone where I can actually hear the person I'm talking to

And right now I'm going to take a nap, because I'm exhausted!

permalink April 12, 2008 | Comments (2)

February 19, 2008

the force of memory

It's so very strange how life is -- don't you think? Yesterday and today, I've gone off diet, so to speak, and eaten meat and dairy.

Now, I do think about meat and dairy all the time. I think several types of thoughts:
- gosh, I feel better since I'm not eating that
and
- gosh, that tastes so good, I hope I'll get to eat it again.
I always think that meat and dairy are going to taste better. No, they taste different, but not better. In fact, I have to say that I've felt a bit let down with each bit of meat or dairy I've had.

I remember feeling this way after the 6 week vegan detox last year, that this stuff was okay, but not the great fantastic thing that I had been expecting. So why do I keep going back for more?

For the most part, it's a social thing. Though today I just broke down and I have no excuses other than that I thought it would taste crazy good. And really, not so much.

++++++
Yesterday was fun. My sweetie had to work so I stayed home and got domestic. I made no-knead bread, veggie stock, and then red lentil soup; I washed clothes and did other unromantic things which made me feel all swell inside.

And to my great shock, I am continuing to lose weight very slowly. This weekend, I ate pretty much whatever I wanted, I got vegan cookies and desserts, I ate chocolate. And still lost weight. I spent most of the weekend on the couch, just lying around. And still lost weight. It's crazy.

permalink February 19, 2008 | Comments (1)

January 28, 2008

doldrums

I seem to be in a holding pattern right now. A bit of the January doldrums.

This morning, I went to make myself a blended salad, which usually looks like a smoothie from the raspberries and strawberries in it. But I forgot, conveniently, that I am not supposed to be eating any seeds, which raspberries and strawberries have in spades. So I think I pulled the majority of them out, but who knows?

Anyways, the result was that my blended salad was light green in color—not something I want to take out in public with me. I need to find some way to color and flavor these now that I can't eat berries temporarily. I wonder how wildly expensive berry juices are?

+++
My sweetie is losing a lot of weight, and lately, his blood sugar has been in the ideal range. This is exciting stuff. I've been seeing other signs of him being in better health as well.

Me, if I'm losing, it's going very very slowly. Very not dramatic. But I'm interested in trying to improve my own health as well.

I'm eating almost vegan at home. The almost is the occasional package of ramen and putting butter blend on my slices of homemade bread. I'm still eating a couple meals out a week, and eating whatever I want when I do.

I've been wearing the pedometer religiously, but not so good about getting 10,000 steps in a day. Today I will make it. I will! Yesterday I danced while washing dishes and baking bread but I still came in with a lousy step count. Grumble.

++++
The biggest news in my kitchen has been baking almost no-knead bread. The hype is true -- it's easy, and it's tasty.

I've been using the Cooks Illustrated recipe, which includes some vinegar and beer for flavor. I started with the all-white flour loaf, which was really a bread I'd be happy to buy. Yesterday, I made the whole wheat loaf, which was even better.

The way this stuff works is:
one, dump all your ingredients in a bowl. Stir with a spatula to combine. This may take all of five minutes. Cover with plastic wrap and place in a warm place for 8-18 hours.
two, roll your sticky dough out onto a floured surface and give it about 10 to 15 kneads. Plop it on a sprayed sheet of parchment and let sit for 2 hours.
three, about an hour and a half later, put your dutch oven and lid in the oven and let it heat up at 500 degrees.
four, when it's time to bake the bread, just transfer the dough on parchment to the dutch oven, leaving the parchment beneath. If you like something on the crust, add it now, and take a sharp knife and cut the dough's top. Now, put on the lid and let bake at 425 for a half hour.
five, take off the lid, put in the temp probe, and give it 15-20 more minutes, until the outside of the bread is a deep brown, and the inside is 210 degrees. Let the bread cool on a rack, and leave the house for 2 hours.
six, come back and enjoy. Your house will smell good and everything tastes better with with fresh bread.

I have never been able to bake bread outside of a bread machine, so having made two perfect loaves in two weeks just makes me feel like I've worked some kind of magic.

permalink January 28, 2008 | Comments (2)

January 7, 2008

On grocery shopping and snowstorms

We just got back from a run to TJ's to pick up some vegan junk food. It would be really good to be eating homecooked food right now, but I spent a chunk of the weekend hanging with my college best friend and her boyfriend, and so soup was not made. But we did get a bunch of different things, some fruit, some brown rice, and some whole grain bread at the store, and we should be okay for the week at least.

There is something just delightful about buying food that's good for you. It's so damn virtuous. Of course, it would be more virtuous if I had a pot of bean soup on the stove right now, but one battle at a time.

I ordered two new pedometers for myself and my sweetie -- those arrived today. Tomorrow, our giant copy of Mark Bittman's How to Cook Everything Vegetarian: Simple Meatless Recipes for Great Food (2000 recipes!) and Dr. Neal Barnard's Program for Reversing Diabetes: The Scientifically Proven System for Reversing Diabetes Without Drugs. Our ducks are getting ready to line up.

Yesterday I went out with K & R to the Oregon Coast. It was a typical winter day, ie, grey, rainy, icky. We got all soaked through, and then drove to Seaside and did it again. By the time we hit the road to come back to town, the rain had turned to snow, and the mountains passes became icky, and then, near Elsie, all traffic ground to a complete and total stop. And stayed at a stop for well over an hour.

The snow was gorgeous, outlining the tiny limbs on the giant trees, but boy it was making a mess of the roads.

We made it back to town without incident, but not without noticing that all of the vehicles that had spun out and spun off the road were 4 by 4s.

permalink January 7, 2008

December 12, 2007

So long, and thanks for all the fish, Anita

The first online journal I saw was David Siegel's. This was probably in 1996, or even possibly, in 1995. I spent a lot of time at David Siegel's web site, with his crazy photos and graphics and new layout technique involving these really complicated things called tables. I had a regular fangirl crush.

Likewise, I'm not entirely sure when I started my own online journal, called chezxx diary, but I'm guessing it was probably 1997. It seemed like there was a large community of journalers. That's funny when you think about it; there were maybe 100 or 200 nationwide who were journalling, compared to the gazillions of blogs out there now.

One of the first journalers I met in real life, and the few I kept in good touch with, was Anita Rowland. Anita started journalling in 1997, and just about everyone who journalled or blogged in the early days has a story about how encouraging she was, how positive, how generous.

Unlike a lot of us who journalled, Anita was not shy. She was outgoing, and she really wanted to share: community, resources, information.

I wasn't close to Anita, but we read each others journals, and would see each other a couple of times a year. I was lucky enough to have her stay with me twice or three times when she was down for a swing dancing event, and she was such a lovely guest. I didn't think anything about it at the time; that was just Anita, you know?

She even seemed amused when the cops pulled her over a block away from my house when she had forgotten which house I lived in. Unlike many of friends, she didn't seem afraid of my neighborhood, or think that my house sucked, and if she thought the house was dirty, she sure didn't let on in any way.

Getting to hang out with Anita was such a pleasure. I once went to a very small SciFi convention on her recommendation, and I felt totally taken care of. She'd introduce me around, and let me know that sessions that would be really good.

Sadly, when I stopped journalling, I lost touch with Anita. But when I came back in 2004, Anita found me again, and we began leaving each other comments. Soon, she was in my flickr feed, and more recently, my twitter feed.

Her twits and posts have been coming less frequently, and I've been a bit worried about her. I knew that she had been fighting ovarian cancer off and on since 2003, and I knew her prognosis wasn't good. Last friday, I checked her twitters and her blog, and I tried to find the link to her husband's blog (but couldn't).

On Monday, I was chatting with my boss when I remembered her stories of the Santa Rampage, and I told him about it, and her. She died less than an hour later in a Seattle hospital.

Jack Bell (her husband) has posted a beautiful memorial to her, and if you knew her, or were touched by her, leave him a comment.

permalink December 12, 2007 | Comments (1)

November 22, 2007

happy Thanksgiving

To those of you in the US, happy Thanksgiving. To the rest of you, happy Thursday. So far, it's been a most excellent day.

I woke up at 3:30 and was wide awake. So I got up. Within about a half hour, sweetie was up too. By 5am, we were talking about breakfast. So we went driving around looking for a place to get breakfast. I figured that Hot Cake House would be open (wrong), so after touring much of North and NE Portland, we ended up at My Father's Place when they opened at 6. We sat and read the ad circulars and then ate some underwhelming breakfast -- all in all, it was great.

Then we got home and went back to bed. I've been up for a couple hours now and we've putzed around. I've been doing some light cleaning along with some internet surfing; sweetie has given birdy its first bath and been doing some internet surfing. Right now I feel more relaxed than I can remember feeling in quite a while.

We have no commitments today. We do have some food to cook, but none of the crazy over-achiever stuff that usually marks my holidays (though honestly, I love the overachieving cooking). Food will get cooked when it's time. I'm hoping to do a fair amount of knitting and cleaning, and to haul the Omabike into the living room where I can work on it in the comfort of a heated, well lit space.

***
Since the time changed, I've haven't been riding my bike. Mostly, it's been about simple logistics -- I don't know how to turn on my generator powered lights. It's probably really simple, but I just haven't figured it out.

Yesterday, we were going to have a short day at work, and I realized as I was getting ready that I could ride my bike if I want. Suddenly, I was flooded with irrational happiness, and even though I had a huge deadline to meet at work, I couldn't get the grin off my face.

So I go out to the shed, and check the tires. One is soft; one is all but flat. Ugh. So I get out the pump and I get the front tire, with its schrader valve, right about right. Then I go to the back tire, with its non-schrader valve, and immediate let all the rest of the air out. And I can't seem to get any air in.

This just about reduces me to tears. I thought about riding one of the townies, but I was having a temper tantrum in my mind. I wanted to ride the Oma. Damn it!

So I got to work and was just obsessed with the issue. I thought the valve was a presta, so I looked that up and read all the stuff about it online and just felt like crying again. Damn it, I had tried filling the tube the way they described.

I finally got to work on my deadline and that made me a bit more serene.

After work, I stopped at my bike shop, Clever Cycles. I hadn't been in the shop since they had expanded onto Hawthorne, and it is gorgeous. The front room is full of gorgeous natural fiber clothing for bicycling -- no spandex, indeed nothing sillily jocky -- and bike bags and baskets (this doesn't show all of what they have from Basil, but it will give you an idea. They also carry some other lines of bags). The back room is still citybikes and bakfiets and folders, and other beautiful accessories for your bike, like beautiful handmade bakfiets cushions.

I have a real bag/purse problem. I love a nice reasonably priced purse, and when I got serious about incorporating bicycling into more of my life, I got really annoyed by how ugly the pannier bags are, and how tiny the baskets are. If I have one of my Queen Bee satchels (eg what they call their Trucker bags), it won't fit into my basket.

Of course, what can you do? I have an ugly double pannier which annoys me everytime I look at it.

Anyways, Clever Cycles has beautiful wire and wicker baskets. They have gorgeous panniers in so many colors. And they have purses that work as a single pannier. I of course bought one (it was cheap, cheap, I tell you), and I am most likely going to go in and buy another, as well as a large wire basket on Friday.

I told my tale of presta valve woe to Dean, one of the owners, and Todd ran over and brought me a Woods Pump Connection Schrader Adaptor, which I can just screw on and pump the tire as per usual. Who knew: the valve was actually a Woods, so following the Presta directions would have just resulted in more frustration.

Then, I ran over to the scooter shop and picked up my scooter. Yay!!

Anyways, lazy day ahead. Yay!!

permalink November 22, 2007 | Comments (2)

November 17, 2007

Trimming down

If you've been wondering what I've been up to, it can probably best be summed up as cleaning house. Literally and figuratively.

About 6 weeks ago, I innocently upgraded the software that runs this and my other blogs, and whoops, managed immediately to break commenting and search functions. This still isn't entirely fixed right now, though as far as I'm aware, the problems remain in the big "daily" blog.

When I had done the upgrade, I had about 40 indexes and probably around 100 categories. At this point, I'm down to 20 indexes and probably around 75-80 categories. This stuff is so amazingly time-consuming, you would not believe.

I've also been clutterbusting, thinning out clothing, redoing my tiny closet so only clothes that fit are in it, redoing my drawers so they are organized, and generally trying to make home a better place to hang out.

I am still bike commuting some, though not as much as I'd like. I need to address lighting on the new bike, and figure out how to quickly turn that off and on.

The rest of the commutes, I'm on the bus, and I've been trying to add more walking to the bus commute.

The weird thing, and unpleasant, is that I feel really really out of shape. The bike ride home is still arduous, and isn't getting any easier. I feel completely winded from walking a couple of blocks, or climbing a flight of stairs. I don't like this a bit, and I don't know what's going on, because I'm still being fairly active. Oh well, I'm keeping on keeping on.

Anyways, you've slogged through this boooooring entry, I must reward you. You will enjoy this, and then it will be stuck in your head, and you can blame ME! Mwah-haha-ha-haha-ha!

permalink November 17, 2007 | Comments (2)

on cats and cat litter

I was reading Kate's Ride my Handlebars, and she wrote about attending an event featuring Jeanne Roy. In it, she mentioned the whole issue of cat litter -- that it's heavy and expensive and difficult to get home on a bicycle, and she mentioned that she was going to ask Roy about the effect of housecats on the environment for her story in the Trib.

So I excitedly check out There’s more to it than recycling, and there's nothing about cats. Damn it.

Here at Athenaville, we have three indoor-only cats, four catboxes and damn, a lot of issues around cat litter. The stuff doesn't biodegrade!

I'd really like an alternative that doesn't involve letting the cats outside. We have one cat who leaves editorial statements about the litter when it doesn't meet her high standards. So when I think of feline pine or other products like that, I fear for how many editorials I'll have to endure.

I did learn recently, however, that Charles Mingus -- who wrote a book on cat toilet training, called the Charles Mingus CAT-alog for Toilet Training Your Cat -- shredded his own newspaper for cat litter.

Dear g-ds, what did our grandparents use? (Oh yeah, they prolly didn't have cats in the house)

permalink November 17, 2007 | Comments (4)

September 10, 2007

September 10

I've been a way awhile, I know. It's just been that kind of summer. I feel like I've been running on empty since before June, and there's no stop in sight. Oh well, that's the way things go some times.

Right now I'm not riding my bike and it's driving me nuts. About three weeks ago now, I was riding the Oma to meet up with Sweetie for dinner, and I was thinking about dinner and not about the road surface, or the fact that there were old rails set into the road. You know what happened next. I managed to bruise, well, just about all of me.

At this point, my calf and foot are still swollen, but the calf is looking less and less purple as it drains into my foot :). The knee was very tender for awhile, but it seems to be getting better.

Unfortunately, this summer, I've had a few cases of heat stress (or quite possibly, heat exhaustion), so I don't dare ride when the temps are going to be scorching. So this means that I haven't been getting my favorite part of the working day in, which wears on me too.

Jeff asks about the scooter: I still have my blue Kymco Grand Vista 250, and I still love it, though I'll love it more once I get the right-side mirror replaced and my speedometer fixed. Someone backed into my scoot when it was parked maybe a month ago or 5 weeks, and so while I have the insurance settlement, I'm still waiting on the parts to come into the shop.

And to be honest, I haven't been riding that so much either, since hitting any sort of bump made my knee (the one with a bit, ahem, of road rash from the other day) really hurt. I actually had to drive my car the other day, and you know how I feel about that. The poor thing is 15 years old, and only the dirt is holding it together.

So anyways, I'm hoping that the heat will let up and my knee will heal and my life can go back to how it was when I was a carefree two-wheeler 24/7. Because otherwise, this is bumming me out.

On the knitting front, I am close to the end of the Summer Shawlette. Or at least, I'm close to the end of the ball of cashmere, so I'll have to switch out to Sea Silk. Oh, sadness. I'm loving it, it's gorgeous, and I'll be very sad when it's over. I just started to read Yarn Harlot: the secret life of a knitter by Stephanie Pearl-McPhee and it's just the shot of hilarity that I'm needing right now.

permalink September 10, 2007 | Comments (2)

August 18, 2007

a post about knitting

It's been a really crazy week this week and I haven't been bicycling. I know, I know. Part of it was having the second incidence of heat exhaustion this summer a week or two back, so I've been really careful about bicycling in heat, bicycling hard, and anything that might set me back.

On one hand, it's a tremendous pain, not bicycling. But on the other hand, it's meant that I could be knitting on the bus, and that is a very positive thing.

I am going to bicycle downtown today for the Tour de Fat bike parade, and I'm looking forward to that.

But interestingly enough, I've really been ramping up the knitting over the last couple weeks. I started a summer shawlette (pictured above, taken a week ago) maybe two weeks ago, and in the last week, I've been making huge progress. I'm making it in my favorite 4-ply cashmere which will be delicious for my mother-in-law and is tremendously soothing to me.

I think cashmere might be the yarn equivalent to cheese. When I get stressed out, I turn to dairy. A friend of mine spelled it out for me: women get stressed and they turn to ice cream. Or lattes. And here you're having sweetened milk... just like being back at Mom's teat.

She's on to something, and I know it's obvious, but it really resonates for me.

Let's face it, cashmere is much better for me than cheese.

...
Last night, I went with my friend Kathy to see Cat Bordhi speak. She has a new book out called New Pathways for Sock Knitters, Book One. We were both a bit paranoid that the hall would be full to overflowing, so we tried to get there early. But between grabbing some conveyor belt sushi and getting to the hall (which was actually not in the World Forestry Center, but in one of the little round building surrounding it, tucked back in the trees), we showed up right about the time it was all supposed to start.

Strangely, the hall was not full, at all. We bought books, looked at and petted the display socks, chatted with Cat, complimented knitted things that folks were wearing, and nibbled on cookies and brownies. And, of course, we knit.

Kathy knew a lot of folks there, of course -- she's a knit blogger, there were a handful of knit bloggers there. And by handful, I mean a generous handful, making up a significant percentage in the crowd.

I think the location killed this, sadly. The World Forestry Center shares a parking lot with the Zoo, which had a sold out concert that night. Usually, the music starts early, like 6pm or maybe even earlier. So the lot was full. The encouragement to take MAX, our light rail, was ignored. The traffic on the highways was heinous, and that makes sense because it was almost at a standstill at 1 in the afternoon.

But those of us that were there sucked up as much Cat Bordhi wisdom as we could. She was great.

And it was wonderful for me to have an evening that really engaged me. Since this weeks crisis has ocurred, I've been consumed by it. I can't think about anything else. Significant chunks of time must be devoted to it every day, 3-4 hours. I feel like I'm cheating every other part of my life.

But to have a couple hours to just think about knitting, to think about restructuring socks, a strange and difficult concept to wrap ones mind around, was such a luxury and was so wonderful.

Kathy was totally in documentarian mode and will for sure have pics and commentary. My camera stayed in my purse

permalink August 18, 2007 | Comments (3)

June 28, 2007

the constant is change

Well, I've been keeping busy.

My sweetie is back taking care of his dad again, and I miss him something fierce. My mood has plummeted since he's been gone. I just don't seem to do very well.

Here is a picture of the object of my affections since sweetie is gone. I've been spending a lot of time with her. She wants to take it slow. Sometimes I'm fine with that, sometimes I'm not.

I've been interviewing like crazy. I'm moving on to the second interview for the job I really want, and have just been culled on the one which would have a one hour commute. Yay!!

Changes are happening at work. It's exciting and also sad.

Every day, I ride my bike. It's the one constant, and it makes me happy.

permalink June 28, 2007 | Comments (1)

June 15, 2007

keeping busy

Well, I'm succeeding in keeping myself busy, that's for sure.

Last night, I had an appointment downtown, so I rode my (new!!!!) bicycle over to that office, and parked it in the underground parking garage across the street.

It was a very small parking garage, and there was only one other bicycle parked there. So as I was locking it up with my 6 locks (the AXA lock, and AXA chain come with the bike; the other 4 I brought with me because I'm just that way), the attendant starts asking me all about the bike.

It turns out that he lived in Amsterdam for a couple of years and is pining for an excuse to go back, and he keeps speaking dutch to me as if, if he keeps doing it, I'll give in and speak it too.

I didn't mention to him that I did take dutch classes in Germany (hey, way to screw up my german, yeah!), and that I do know a couple words: yes, no, beautiful, and the very important, we are in the garden. Realistically, it's about as useful as knowing the Russian for what is that? It's a church.

But let's face facts: I wasn't much into studying when I was in Germany, and I had a hard time with dutch.

I went to my appointment and once I got back, there were more compliments, and questions, and one-sided conversations in dutch. It was really nice.

I rode home as fast as I could, and swapped bikes, so I could take a Townie to the Master Plan meeting. The idea there was that I would be significantly less heartbroken if the Townie was stolen than if the Oma was stolen. And then I hopped on the bike again, and made it to the meeting.

The meeting actually was very pleasant. We sat at smallish tables and marked on a map where we lived, where we worked, where we bought groceries and ran errands, and where our friends lived, and what types of transportation we used for each type of trip. We chatted about what we liked and didn't like about bike lanes and multi-use paths.

This morning, I managed to leave the house early enough that I could have a sit down to cool off before running up the office. This is a big improvement from recent mornings.

It was chilly and drizzly, and I rode the Townie again (I have a couple postwork appointments), and I have to say, it was a lovely ride. I love this sort of weather!

As I was coming down onto the Eastbank Esplanade, I remembered that today was Breakfast on the Bridges, and I was actually early enough to stop. So I took the Esplanade rather than crossing the pedestrian bridge. I prefer to cross the bridge because there are less hills to climb—sad, but true. I wish these things didn't hold me back, but they do.

So, I get to Breakfast on the Bridge, park my bike, and I'm happy to recognize a couple people. However, the people there were all in a clump, facing inward, surrounding the coffee and pastries, and no one even looked up and smiled, nonetheless, greeted me. I thought about trying to say hi to one of the people I recognized, but then I wasn't certain that they would remember me, and it just didn't seem worth it. So I grabbed my bike and left.

But I did get a paper once I got to work, and I sat outside and read part of it while I waited to stop sweating. By the time I got upstairs, I no longer felt like I was red in the face.

permalink June 15, 2007 | Comments (2)

June 14, 2007

masa fina

What can I tell you? I'm loving my bike. And I got my first unsolicited compliment on it this morning.

Yee ha!

I feel like I'm moving slowly, but since I don't have a computer on this bike (and don't intend to get one), I really have no idea whether I'm slow or not. I just feel so good riding it. It is such a pleasure.

I've been trying to keep myself busy since Sweetie is away. I've been housecleaning, and last night I went out to a restaurant to meet one group of folks, and a tavern to meet another. It was very nice to have some social time, though I got home really late, for me: 10:30! I slept hard last night, though I woke up and felt like I needed some more.

I had hoped there would be lots of bike riding, and there may still be. I haven't been in a pedalpalooza event since last Thursday when I did the Kickass kickoff parade, which really was fun. But, tonight, I go to the PLATINUM BIKE MASTER PLAN PUBLIC FORUM for NORTH/NE Portland. I have no idea what to expect, I just hope it's interesting and that I recognize some people there.

permalink June 14, 2007

June 7, 2007

about the Rose Festival

Misty pointed out that there's some 'xplaining to do.

Okay, right now it's Rose Festival, a two-week long extended party in Portland. There are two parades, there's a fun center (read amusement rides and carny food), and the military come into town on their giant ships.

So, it's a time when people who live in the city limits try their damnedest to not come downtown (because the traffic is even worse than usual, and the bridges are frequently up) ... and folks in the suburbs with kids, or single women hoping to get lucky, swarm the city.

The fun center is in Waterfront Park, whose paths are usually used by human-powered commuters to get to their downtown jobs.

Anyhow, the outlined green areas are the route that I, and thousands of other bicyclists and pedestrians use to get to and from work.

~ + ~ +
There's a great photo essay in Time Magazine online right now, called What the World Eats. If you haven't been already, you'll probably want to check it out.

I found it tremendously frightening. Look at all that soda and all those processed foods! Look at how little fruits and veg! As a friend pointed out, in the first world, processed food costs less than whole food.

permalink June 7, 2007 | Comments (2)

June 6, 2007

mercy!

I have a cup of (decaf) coffee. I have a smoothie (a really good one with lots of strawberries). I have a container of cut-up fruit. I should want for nothing, nothing, I tell you.

It's full-on rose festival now, so I haven't bothered riding my bike. My entire downtown commute would need to be rerouted onto streets that have no bike lanes. And that would be fine, except everything is crazy now: suburbanites come into the city and obviously don't know what to do with bicyclists.

For example, last week, I had someone apparently try to back over me (when I had traffic behind me and couldn't go backwards), because she wanted a parking spot. Hey, she was obviously bigger, in her giant SUV, but she can't claim she didn't see a fat woman on a pink bicycle. Grrr.

That, and it's raining. Which is good, because it's been a really dry spring, but...

Work stuff is bringing me down. Nuff said on that.

Tonight, I go look at dutch bikes. I'm excited and nervous at the same time. I've been wanting a dutch bike for well over a year, and now that I'm on the verge of trying one, I am so nervous. Nervous mostly that it won't live up to all the excitement and expectations I've had about it.

permalink June 6, 2007 | Comments (2)

May 12, 2007

long, good day

I had a bad day yesterday at work, the second or third bad day in one week. To make matters worse, I underate at lunch (because I worked through lunch, and I didn't think I could take the extra five minutes to walk to the soup stand), so I was hungry most of the afternoon.

By the time I got myself home, I was mad at myself for not taking care of myself, as well as for expecting that my coworkers would communicate with me when there was a huge project that they were very late with.

I had planned, and indeed, looked forward to seeing T. Colin Campbell, author of the China Study talk about plant-based diets. I thought I had got my sweetie's buy-in, that he would go with me. But by Friday morning, he was making lots of "you'll have a great time" type statements.

Anyways, I couldn't bare the thought of doing alone to the talk, and I wanted a friendly face to commisserate (sp?) in case I started to cry again. Indeed, my Saturday plans seemed suspect too.

I had planned to go to the St Johns parade. I had wanted to go to VegFest. I had a giant beer tasting party to go to at 2pm, and I expected that I probably wouldn't get out of the party in time to go back to VegFest. And now I was unsure that I'd even want to leave the house come Saturday morning.

Anyways, Saturday morning came, and Sweetie volunteered to go with me to the parade, so up to St Johns, we went. First stop was Adam's house, where the whole scooter club were busy decorating their scooters with stuff from the dollar store. It was clear immediately that I had not taken the whole decorating thing seriously enough... and I kept thinking about how I could apply these ideas to decorating my bicycle for bicycle parades.

We spent another couple of hours waiting for the parade, in the parade line, and at Sandie's house. I chatted with other scooterists, with bicyclists, and for the most part, anyone who would talk to me. I knit compulsively on my project, a cashmere moebius cowl I had been hoping to finish in time for Mothers Day.

Then, the parade started. Then, we find out we've won best vehicle group, which can't be because the vehicles are attractive: we've a mix of plastic scooters, motorcycles, and mopeds. We don't have a single vintage in the group, unless you count a fifty-something BMW. Maybe it's because we're a mixed race group in a mostly segregated city? Or that we're maybe 40% female?

Or maybe it's the fact that we're huge hams, we don't organize or coordinate any of our antics, figure 8s and loops, and that's obvious. We almost hit folks in the crowd, and they love it, we ride with some skill and obvious joy, and dagnab it, we really like each other.

Anyways, we had a great time. A great time. No collisions, no one dropped a bike, no children hit.

Then, we headed across town to go to Fred Fest. Basically, this was a fundraiser for a sick Brew Crew member, celebrating Fred Eckhardt's birthday. We were immediately overwhelmed by the length of the lines, and number of people there, but once we got into the beer line, time went pretty fast, or at least fast enough. We chatted with our neighbors in line, and others too. Beer luminaries were there. We had some incredible beer, luckily in very small quantities, with some really good food.

By the time we got home at a little after six, it had been a really long day. But a good one.

permalink May 12, 2007 | Comments (1)

February 20, 2007

Day 1

So it begins.

My day was crazy, but I felt good and focused. I ended up working through my lunch, so I munched my fruit, and I was able to present at my second meeting of the day (sheesh). I was hungry, but it wasn't the end of the world. That's a new sensation for me.

After that meeting, I rode the bike home, and got caught in a sleet storm. Brr, brr, brr! It's amazing how long 3 miles can seem when you're freezing.

Dinner was this excellent black bean soup that Cheesepuppet had mentioned and a big salad of gritty lettuce and a bunch of veg. I used a little dressing from the American Vegetarian Cookbook, which is all about oil. I'm told that at some point, my taste buds will adjust and lettuce without dressing will taste sweet and good. We're not there yet.

So, one day down... 41 to go!

permalink February 20, 2007 | Comments (3)

February 18, 2007

more on this veganism thing

Today is day 4 for caffeine-free. We went out for breakfast this morning, and I wanted to order coffee -- out of habit -- but I was fine without. The second day was the worst, especially combined with coming down with the flu. Bad idea.

So in my mind, I like to call this the geek detox, because I learned about it online.

First, I heard about it in November in Wendy McClure's blog Pound who refers to it as This Thing I’m Doing.

Then, in January, I saw a mention in BoingBoing that Xeni Jardin was doing this vegan bodyhacking thing that Joi Ito was writing about. About the same time, several friends mentioned that Joi seemed to be really digging this new detox.

So finally, I went to Joi. His first entry starts thusly:

Almost like clockwork, hitting 40 years old seems to have triggered a series of alarms that I need to watch my health more. Blood tests show various things that I need to watch out for and I continue to be fatter than I should. I used to do low-carb diets when I got overweight, but it seems like a fat/meat diet right now wouldn't be good for my heart and other things.

That intrigued me, because I usually look at diets as a vanity thing -- I don't like how I look, so I'll lose weight. And it's been my repeated experience that I gain it back and more some, so while I'd love to lose weight, let's face facts -- what's the use?

But in reading about the Eat to Live diet, it seems like it's less about weight loss and more about improving your health.

I'm 44, and I've been falling apart, it seems, for the last 7 years. I've had awful heartburn and high blood pressure, and lately I've been freaking out. It's great that I'll be able to retire early, but what if I don't live that long? What if I retire just to have heart attacks or be diagnosed with cancer?

So I read two of Dr Joel Fuhrman's books, including Eat to Live. ETL is your typically badly written diet book, but unlike most, his claims have citations attached to them, indicating serious medical studies. He refers heavily to the China Study, a huge study which suggests that medical woes like autoimmune diseases, cardiac disease, and cancer are linked to the Western diet of frankenfoods, refined grains, dairy, and meat.

As I read it, I started actually getting hopeful that I could get healthier. And there you are.

So, for the next 6 weeks, starting Tuesday, this will be how I'm eating:

Eat to Live 6-Week Plan

UNLIMITED (eat as much as you want):

* all raw vegetables, including raw carrots (goal: 1 lb. daily)
* cooked green vegetables (goal 1 lb. daily)
* beans, legumes, bean sprouts, or *tofu (minimum 1 cup daily in total of these)
* fresh fruit (at least 4 daily).
* eggplant, mushrooms, peppers, onions, tomato and other non-starchy vegetables, cooked and raw (unlimited)

*Beans should be eaten daily; tofu should be eaten less frequently.

LIMITED (not more than one serving):

* cooked starchy vegetables OR whole grains--Maximum 1 cup per day (butternut or acorn squash, corn, sweet potato, brown rice, cooked carrots, whole grain breads*, whole grain cereals*)
* raw nuts and seeds (1 oz. or 28.5 grams a day) or 2 ounces avocado
* ground flaxseed (1 tablespoon a day)
* soymilk, low-sugar preferred--Maximum 1 cup a day

*avoid breads and cereals as much as possible

OFF-LIMITS:

* dairy products
* animal products
* between meal snacks
* fruit juice, dried fruits
* salt, sugar

I have to say, just having increased the amount of fruits and vegetables, and having kicked caffeine, makes me feel so good physically. As I go through these last few days of "gosh, I won't be able to have pasta, I have to have pasta", I can really tell the difference in how I feel between when I eat a plant-based meal, and when I eat something else.

So I'm excited.

permalink February 18, 2007 | Comments (4)

February 15, 2007

Mark this, day one

Today, I have given up coffee. I've been awake now for 6 hours, and I don't yet have the headache, but I am insanely hungry. Insanely. And so hungry that I wonder if a salad will sate me.

You see, in the last couple weeks when I've been away, there have been huge work deadlines, long days, work brought home, coming in early, coming in on weekends. And also, maddenly, it's sucked all of the life out of me outside of work.

I've still been bike commuting, and its still almost always the best thing in my day.

Riding home is still a test, but I am trying to let go of my tremendous anger at anyone I have to share the road with who will endanger me by speeding past me and almost connecting with me. You can see why I have a hard time with this, no doubt. And the ride home is all about bike lanes and quiet streets. Could ya ring a bell, already?!

But on top of all of this, I've become obsessed with veganism. (Misty, stop laughing.) I've actually started eating fruit. I've eaten more fruit in the last week than I did in the entire last year. And I can't stop obsessively thinking about vegetables.

So as I've been trying to eat better, I've been surprised to realize that my favorite foods aren't actually all that good. I mean, they're not that good. And then there's the stomach distress.

My plan is pretty straightforward. I'm going to eat way low on the food chain for six weeks. And see what happens.

I saw my doc yesterday, and had fasting bloodwork done this morning. So I'll have baseline numbers to compare: blood pressure, pulse, blood sugar, thyroid, cholesterol.

The problem is, I want to begin already. I can't begin before Saturday. And our anniversary is Monday, which probably means going out to eat...

But even if I can't go vegan formally yet, I can abandon coffee.

permalink February 15, 2007 | Comments (2)

January 30, 2007

sunrise

There is something so very lovely about biking in the early morning. Certainly, a huge part of it has to be the lack of humanity.

This morning, I left the house a little before 7. The sunrise was just beginning to lighten the sky.

This morning, I said hello to all pedestrians and bicyclists. The pedestrians almost all said hello. Drug dealers are especially cordial. Bicyclists, eh, not so much.

By the time I got to the Steel Bridge, the sky was the color of a robins egg, and the river looked incredible, with its currents of lazy ripples and mirror-still sections. Ducks and geese were leisurely coasting, and the city was golden in the morning light.

There's stuff like this that brings me so much pleasure in biking. If I were on the bus, crossing the river is just a geographic marking: I'm closer to work. But on the bicycle, it's an element that I interact with. The breezes, or should I say winds, that drive south through the river valley. Feeling the chill from the water. Watching the currents.

To my tremendous pleasure, I was in my building at 7:20, and back at my desk after a shower at 8:00. A shower. How humane!

permalink January 30, 2007 | Comments (2)

January 29, 2007

The City that Never Walks

An interesting story from the New York Times Op-Ed Desk today:
The City That Never Walks, by Robert Sullivan

And yet, here in New York, we even have the debate over bicycle traffic backwards. We focus on drivers’ complaints about the bicycle commuter who races through red lights, rather than on the concerns of the mother biking her child around organic-food delivery trucks that idle in bike-only lanes. In December, the police say, a bicyclist was killed on the Hudson River Greenway by a drunken driver speeding along a bike lane that was completely separated from the road. Asked what was being done to improve safety in light of the biker’s death, Mayor Michael Bloomberg suggested that bikers “pay attention.”

“Even if they’re in the right, they are the lightweights,” he told a reporter.

nytimes.com/2007/01/29/opinion/29sullivan.html

permalink January 29, 2007

Chilly clear morning

I rode my bike today, I rode my bike today!!

It was a nice ride, though chilly. I actually overdressed. Not a bad thing to complain about.

I stopped and took some pictures of the Willamette, and then continued on. At one point, I saw a seagull flying overhead, with a bagged sandwich in its beak. It was a whole sandwich, 2 slices of bread, in a ziplock baggie.

It's nice to get into work early and with an endorphin rush, which I'll definitely need later today.

permalink January 29, 2007 | Comments (3)

January 16, 2007

snow day!

There's been so much hysteria around here about the SNOW and the ICE and the COLD, with the snow part never happening, that I've quit even paying attention to the weatherman. We've just been keeping the outdoor cat inside, and we've decided that she will remain inside, clothes be damned*.

So this morning we are puttering around, getting ready for work, when sweetie opens the front door and sees snow... all over the ground! And falling from the sky!

After I established that I wouldn't be going to work today, I decided to go for a bike ride.

I thought of all my years in Kentucky and Michigan, where there was lots of snow -- and I never rode in it. I don't have a single memory of it. I loved ice skating and I'd do that whenever I could, but bicycling was for good weather, and good weather only.

So I did the only reasonable thing: I suited up and went for a ride. I decided to ride down to Grand Central, which is about a mile away, nice and flat.

I come off the driveway, and one of the guys who lives in my neighbor's backyard (don't ask, I don't know) waved, smiled, and started to say something in Spanish. The back wheel would slip, and I was getting nowhere fast, but it was fun.

By the time I got to the first main street, there was an SUV breathing down my tire tracks, so I moved over so they could go. When they got beside me, both the driver and passenger gave me a big friendly smile, which I think meant crazy white girl.

A man was walking along with a cup of coffee. He was gorgeous in this wizened, wrinkled sort of way, the sort of face that has seen a lot of living and is still around to tell you about it. He told me he was off to his ex's house, cuz he had some excellent cocoa. Good idea!

The snow dampens the noise. And truth be told, nobody's really out at all. I ride in the car tire tracks and in the virgin snow -- it doesn't really matter.

All the pedestrians -- whether they were just out for a walk or were heading into work -- just seemed happy, and would respond when I said hello.

Good morning, I said to one nicely dressed man. Yes it is!, he replied.

So I went to the bakery, and I sat there and drank coffee and read the paper and just felt really and truly lucky for the first time in a while. And then I rode back home.

*The outside cat is Daphne, who went into internal exile after demolishing a great deal of my clothing and linens. One day I was getting dressed for work, and I couldn't find anything she hadn't chewed a sizeable hole in, and that was the morning she came to live on the back porch. But she is the world's sweetest cat, and now getting on in years, and I am a softie. Clothing, what is that?! I can still use towels when they have holes in them!

permalink January 16, 2007 | Comments (8)

January 9, 2007

(holding out for) that teenage feeling

This morning, I got a fair amount of housework done. I vacuumed up dust bunnies in the kitchen & hall, and I generated about a bag of recycling from crap laying around the living room & bathroom.

I also scrubbed the bathtub. Note to self: baking soda might be mildly abrasive, but it's too mildly abrasive to clean the bathtub.

Meanwhile I debated whether I should ride the bike. And whether I should wear work clothes, or exercise clothes.

I'm always obsessed with carrying less. Maybe my desire to declutter is another form of this? I'm not compelled to declutter, that's for damn sure. Anyways, the compromise of riding to work in work clothes and being sweaty versus wearing exercise clothes and bringing a bag of good clothes is one of those things that I can't seem to resolve.

I rode the bus. Every inch of me hurts. I can't, no, no more complaining.

My chiro says that I'm having shoulder pain reoccurance because of the seat to handlebars ratio. Is there such a thing? Basically, I think that translates into "buy a new bike". But I think everything translates, at least in my mind, to buy a new bike.

I'm trying to remind myself, my life is good. Today, my sweetie can't bend his arm. No, we don't know why. My colleague in the next office has her infant in daycare for the first time. I can't imagine how that must feel. Life is good. Life is good.

permalink January 9, 2007 | Comments (3)

December 21, 2006

what's happening

I realize I haven't been crossposting. I've posted a lot about the accident aftermath on vj.vox.com, though it could be easily summed up as: I hurt, and it's all I can talk about. And unfortunately, it does dominate my thoughts, and it's really bumming me out.

I know that at some point I'll be okay again. And I know I almost got myself killed, or fate just decided to spare me this time.

The other morning, waiting for the bus, I got to watch a woman (well-dressed, seemingly normal) pace between two bus stops on two sides of a corner. First to the #33 bus stop, then to the #6 busstop. Rinse, repeat.

Have you ever had the scary realization that that's what you look like? Mind you, I try very very hard to quell the pacing by, say, reading or knitting or walking to the next bus stop. But sometimes I just can't help it, I just can't position myself so I can see both roads, and so I pace. Oh dear g-d.

She was very nice, and once she was on the bus, she was just another person going to work.

This morning I somehow forgot that the 15 minute walk to the chiropractor had just about rendered me into a walking zombie twice, and thought it would be good to walk to work. Ha!

First, a half a block from the house, I slipped on some black ice. Back home, we just called it ice. Ice being what happens when roads are wet, and then it freezes. Anyways, here, it's black ice, I guess because regular ice is self-evident whereas black ice is sneaky. It's duplicitious.

Anyways, I didn't go down, I just made a note about it. About at that point, I noticed that my legs were hurting. From walking.

I've been a little daffy lately, and there was no bus in sight, so, for whatever reason, I kept walking, even though I was in pain. Stoopid.

I slipped again, and this time, almost hit the ground. And finally, I stopped walking and then I really needed to sit down. Luckily, the bus came then too.

permalink December 21, 2006 | Comments (2)

to the white guy who sat in the middle of a three-seat bench on the bus -

Yes, you, with your hemp and recycled rubber, your oh-so-hipster garb! Why are you too good to move over and share a three-seat bench? It was so kind that you let me squeeze in beside you, it just filled me with the Christmas spirit. Bah, humbug. What is wrong with you people?

I don't get it. Are you entitled to a three-seat bench because you're white and middle-class and male? Because you buy groovy expensive recycled things that advertise how groovy and expensive you are? My mother would back hand me if I acted like you did. And she'd have reason.

And what was my crime? That I dress like a social worker, going to work? That I'm middle-aged? That I'm fat? That I walk with a limp? What sorts of assumptions were you making about me?

You know, if you had moved over, we both would have had a bit more room. You wouldn't have had to lean into me as I fished into my pocket for a tissue. But you seemed to want to punish me for sitting down with you, one white guy, on a three seat bench. As you noticed, I do fit into one seat. As do you. You could have made this a pleasant experience for both of us. And you would have seemed like less of an asshole.

I hope Santa brings you coal.
VJ

permalink December 21, 2006 | Comments (4)

December 18, 2006

the grace to go slow

There is nothing like commuting to work on a morning where it's 30 degrees out there to make you feel like you can do anything.

I rode Pinky, my three-speed. I had a lot of stuff to haul today: christmas paper, gifts to be wrapped, my usual cache of clothes to change into, etc. So I felt rather festive, riding around with christmas paper rolls sticking out of my pannier. And since it was cold, there weren't so many folks out on foot or on bike.

I read something over the weekend that has reverberated over and over again: Grant me the grace to go slow. Especially at this time of year, everything seems feverish. But does it need to be?

Riding Pinky is one way of going slow. It's also just a fun bike to ride, as it's pink with lots of chrome, and a big front basket that I've attached silk flowers to. And the ride in went without much happening. No one threatened me with their car, I chatted with lots of folks as they were on their way whereever it was they were going, and I managed to not fall over on the ice. That last thing is huge, really.

I just had a bad day on Wednesday, who knows why, and so I am cycling home, and I am still fairly miserable. The ride home is a maker or breaker: usually, I feel better after the ride, but there are just some days, infrequent, where I feel much worse.

Where we begin our story, I could really go either way. I'm on Wheeler Ave, which is a bus-only road with a bike path, heading up the hill. Wheeler always has a lot of debris in the bike path, and while I have the number to call, and I have a cell phone, I'm always too wanting to get home to actually stop the bicycle, find the number, and find the cell phone.

I'm riding, and I hear my keys hit the ground. Wha? So I go to stop the bike, and somehow manage to get a tree branch in the chain, and then somehow I end up on the ground, still on the bike. It was one of those slow motion falls, so I have a few bruises but it didn't really hurt anything really but my pride. And of course, there were a number of people who saw it, so I could feel good and mortified.

So I get my keys, I zip up that pocket (honestly!), and get started again. And there, 10 ft later, is a big pile of glass. I look over my shoulder to see if I can pull out into the bus lane, and I see the cops, barrelling up the hill. So I stop again.

From that point on, I felt kinda shakey on the bike. I brought it in to the bike shop on Friday for its annual maintenance, and they fixed it all up, but they adjusted the seat, and I tried riding with the seat as they had set it. Way too high, I could barely reach the pedals! It took several tries to get it back where it was supposed to be. And that whole ride home, I was cautious; not because of others, but because I was afraid my balance was just off.

But on Sunday, I finally went for a long ride on Pinky. It was good, and I regained my confidence.

As I think about going slow, it seems I should also think about going small. I've got so much stuff, I'm overrunning the house. And there's only two of us there. It's nuts. So I've been slowly tossing things. I filled a couple bags over the weekend, and I've spent the morning cleaning the office. I just want to get the slate clean, is that too much to ask?

permalink December 18, 2006 | Comments (1)

December 7, 2006

Walking

Am I already suffering from the post-school blues? All I know is, I feel tired, and I have an awful headache this morning.

In the hopes of shaking that, I walked to the MAX train this morning. It's about a mile and a half, a nice leisurely 30 minute walk.

It was good. It felt really good to feel the cold air, and to look at the changes in the neighborhood. A few blocks from my house, someone had a sign in their yard. If I had been on my bike, I never would have stopped to look at it, because I'm in too big of a hurry. Still, after all this talk of slow, still in a hurry.

So I did walk over to see it. It said that they were sad to announce that their cat had died after 20+ years of roaming the neighborhood. The sign had lots of pictures of said cat, who was obviously quite beloved to them and probably to the neighborhood as well.

It made me very thankful that my outdoor cat, Daphne is still around. She has been nothing short of adorable lately: coming over to the shed in the mornings and when I get home to say hi. In the early mornings, when she's waiting for me to bring Echo outside, she lays beneath her quilt with only her head sticking out.

The thing that occurred to me as I was walking is that while I enjoy bicycling -- obviously -- I feel like an outsider there. I'm not sure whether I'm a bicyclist. But even while I'm not doing much walking, I am a walker. I feel like I've fought for that title and earned it, even if I'm not doing it as compulsively as I have in the past.

...
Last night was the last night of presentations for the sainted, beloved GIS class. There were lots of really good, detailed presentations. It is quite clear that mine was neither good nor detailed; at least, I didn't dig into the ArcGIS toolkits as much as I could or should have. What I would have needed was to do all the labs and have them be past tense by a month ago, and then figure out how to really analyze the data.

That said, I'm determined to do it right and on my own time... and hopefully the ArcMap licensing I have at home won't run out too fast.

permalink December 7, 2006

November 30, 2006

hello.

Do you ever have one of those moments where you suddenly feel awake after weeks or months of sleeping?

I'm awake, and back amongst the living.

Actually, I've been back amongst the living for about three weeks now, but I've been so overwhelmed by the amount of work (work and school) that I needed to get done, that I've been offline to a huge extent.

For better or for worse, my big school project is over. I still have the final and a couple of labs to do, but I feel like a tremendous weight has been lifted off my shoulders. There is going to be plenty of franticness at work over the next couple weeks, but none for the next couple of days. And I need to start the holiday blitz of knitting and shopping. But today, I am happy. Hurrah!

By the way, I am writing more frequently at vj.vox.com. If you join Vox, you don't necessarily have to blog there, but you will have the ability to leave comments on my posts, and for me to okay you to see private posts. Doesn't that private post idea just fill you with glee? Anyways, join, drop me an email so I know who you are, and I'll add you to friends and family.

...
As you might have heard, it's been raining in Portland. Unendingly. Well, I exaggerate. I haven't gotten caught in the rain in a couple days at least.

It's made commuting interesting, to be sure. I've been trying to stay on the bike, but I have given in some days and taken the bus. Monday was quite cold (the weather folks were predicting snow), and I bike-commuted, and didn't wear enough clothes. Damn, that was cold. On Monday night, I could not get warm again, and ended up going to bed with long underwear and flannel pjs on, and then I only warmed up once Sweetie got to bed.

The next morning, I felt like I was on the verge of a headcold, and I'm still trying to stave it off.

So the last couple days, I've been taking the bus. So I was really pleased this morning to hear the busdriver say, when we stopped on the Hawthorne bridge, to watch for bicyclists. Yeah, way to be proactive!

We took a slight road trip for Thanksgiving: we and the Texiles had rented a cabin in ZigZag, which is on Mt. Hood on National Forest land. It was great. We brought too much food, they brought too much food. We stoked fires and hung out. For the first time in several years, I didn't cook on Thanksgiving. Truth be told, I didn't do anything but read the stack of books I had for school.

No internet. No television. I'd just sit myself on the couch between the woodstove and the fireplace in about a dozen layers, and peel them off as the room warmed, and read and read and read. Very frequently, the rest of the couch and the chairs would be filled with Texiles, reading, or some of them would be at the table, 4 feet away, working on a puzzle or a board game. It was quite convivial and genial. And it was just so enjoyable.

It totally fed my desire for community, for hanging out semi-autonomously. We'd make meals, but everyone was on their own for snacks, so there was always someone foraging in the fridge to make breakfast tacos with leftover crepes (delicious, yum!). And we all took naps -- some more than once a day!

It was so relaxing and enjoyable, and I thought about how I usually live: eating a meal while watching TV while researching something online. Multitasking to an extreme. I want to start being more conscious about this stuff.

I always claim and truly feel like I have no time to read. But it's quite obvious that I can make the time, and maybe I need to.

...
But first, I have been online this morning and I've found some great things.
-Scentzilla's TV and classic painters mashups
Oh my gosh, she is brilliant.
- Vintage Vespa Menorah
That's right, take two unrelated things and combine them. Huh? I think I have to have it though.

permalink November 30, 2006 | Comments (1)

November 22, 2006

test post

This is a test post. This is only a test. If this had been a real emergency, you would have been directed to radio stations in your area with news and announcements.

(altportland appears to be having some digestive problems, and I'm curious if they are happening here as well)

permalink November 22, 2006

November 17, 2006

bike luv

On the heels of the foreign lady in Beijing story, I have to share some unexpected bike love.

I rode home tonight, as I do four nights a week. While the ride to work is relaxing and invigorating, the ride home can be a bit of a test. For a while, I was trying to get to the point where I would not yell, mouth, or think, motherf*^&%^r when a car would buzz me or another bicyclist would sweep by with no warning. I'm still trying to get into that lovingkindness place. The hills aren't so bad any more. No one's offered to push me up one in maybe a month or more.

So today, I'm riding up the hill by the Rose Quarter. It's not too bad of a hill, though it does come right after climbing the hill from the river. I'm relaxed, hell, I'm even enjoying the rise. A trimet bus goes by, and, gasp, gives me lots of room. Doesn't pull one of those, you're in my way, so I'm gonna go by you really fast. We pull up at the light together. The light turns green, and again, the bus driver is graceful, respectful. He pulls over to let some one off, then looks very carefully to see where I am, to see if any other cyclists have ridden up. He crosses back into the lane he needs to be in, and we both stop at the light.

I'm just floating in this warm bath of endorphins. Someone didn't try to scare the crap out of me! He opens his door, and thanks me for having lights on my bike and wearing a reflective jacket. I thank him for being a considerate driver, and say that I don't envy him his job. My g-d, it's a friggin' love fest.

He pulled through the light, and that was the end of that. But it was such a nice experience that I needed to share it.
...
There's not a lot to tell for the last couple of weeks. I feel like I've been on a dead run lately between work and school. Bicycling back and forth has been a consistent high point, even when it rains. I've been riding the 24-speed, figured out how to keep the panniers on the bike (it's so simple it's embarrassing that I hadn't figured earlier), and actually added lights and a bell. All I need is a basket and I'm all set.

permalink November 17, 2006 | Comments (3)

The foreign lady in the Beijing bike lane

I have been completely buried under between work and school and my ever-changing moods, so if you've seen this, sorry. However, it's a great story.

It appears some roads in Beijing have a dedicated, separate, bike lane. And it appears cars try to use those bike lanes to get around traffic. Somebody took that whole partying at the literal bar too serious, and actually thought that bike lanes were, gasp, for bikes. Crazy!

I love this story, with lots of pictures. Go, foreign lady!
http://www.zonaeuropa.com/20061027_1.htm

permalink November 17, 2006 | Comments (2)

November 7, 2006

Go, Statistics Canada!

A moving finding — commuting isn't so bad after all
SCOTT DEVEAU
7/11/2006, Globe & Mail
http://tinyurl.com/snhnl

"In 2005, 19 per cent of workers who rode their bicycles to work reported that their commute was the most pleasant activity of their day. This was true of just 2 per cent of workers who drove to work.

However, 2001 census data showed that only about 1 per cent of commuters rode a bicycle to work, whereas 81 per cent used a vehicle.
...
Public transit users were less likely to enjoy commuting than drivers."

permalink November 7, 2006 | Comments (2)

October 30, 2006

chilly!

Nothing like the time change to bring it home. Summer is over. It's done.

Last night, as we drove home from an early dinner, it was pitch-dark outside. Tonight, that's what I'll be riding home in.

This morning, it was in the 30s. Whoa. So I am back in my winter outfit. Long underwear, top and bottom. Thrifted cashmere sweater. Wool scarf. Windbreaker. Wool cycling cap under my helmet. Wool skirt. Wool socks.

It's always a little daunting, the first really cold ride of the season. Am I going to be warm enough, or too warm? I was actually warm enough, though my face was pretty cold. I think it's probably balaclava time.

I have my poncho in my pannier, so I'm ready for the rain too. Last time I wore it, I had a huge puddle between my arms that never leaked through to the inside.

...
thanks to everyone who wrote me expressing concern. I don't know what to tell you, but I'm feeling a bit more positive, and hoping that will stick around for awhile. I really appreciate your concern.

I am going to try to get a little more exercise, without an expectation that it should be achieving anything, and I'm going to try to remember why I exercise in the first place: it's fun. So I need to just remember to keep it fun.

With this thought in mind, I rode home from work Friday, and I realized if I just didn't try to get home as quickly as possible, it was a lot more fun. I stopped for cars, I slowly inched up hills and I decided I was going to go slow because it's more fun, rather than feeling like I go slow because of my weight and fitness level. Keep my head up. Fun. Gotta keep it. fun.

...
Over the weekend, I went to the Film Celebration of Portland Transportation at the Bagdad. It was rather bike heavy, in spite of a very nice intro by Chris Smith of Portland Transport about Portland's original streetcar system, and how it influenced the shape of Portland. Clarence of BikeTV was there showing his films, including several that aren't on his web site. Dan Kaufmann of Crank my Chain also had one. There was one scooter flick, which someone I know, catcalled. Tacky.

Anyways, I really like Clarence's work and it was great to see it on the big screen. He filmed a great interview with Enrique Penalosa, the former mayor of Bogota, Colombia, who talks at length about deciding what you are supporting on a city level. It really got me all revved up.

It's interesting. Here, when you have a discussion about transportation, at least at the level I'm at, you are talking about bike commuting, and public transportation. Pedestrians are mentioned, but the radical pedestrianism that was here in the early nineties seems to have entirely dissipated. Or maybe there are so few radical pedestrians these days that we don't know how to organize our voices?

And, why isn't the motorcycle and scooter communities interested in this in a huge way? I mean, if parking is an issue, motorcycles take up much less space. If pollutants are an issue, modern motorcycles are cleaner than cars.

I saw my first bakfiets cargobike there, and I talked to its owner, who is going to open a dutch bike shop in town. I for one can't wait. Hurry!

permalink October 30, 2006 | Comments (3)

October 26, 2006

...

I finally have the 24-speed back in my greedy hands, so I've been using it as my regular commuter. It really makes my life that much easier. Yes, I know I could just got off my three-side and walk it up the hill—yes, I know that would be faster. Sigh.

Lately, I've really been struggling with body image. I mean, I haven't been happy that I've gained back the weight that I worked so hard to lose, but just in the last couple months, I've been feeling a brand new sense of self-loathing that is really hard to shake. Especially since my body really doesn't seem to care what I eat, or how much, or what times: it just wants to pack on some more weight.

Shessh. I still commute most days by bike. I still make neighborhood trips by bike. I still do a lot more walking than the average bear. No matter.

Last night, I walked up from work to school. Now, some back story: I didn't get any lunch until 3:30, and had no dinner. I was running entirely on adrenaline.

The distance from work to school is about 3/4 of a mile. In other words, nothing. But it is uphill.

As usual, I was late, I had a heavy satchel, etc, so I was hustling up to school. Totally out of breath.

Sheesh. A year and a half ago, I did the Columbia Gorge Marathon. Now I get out of breath not even running up a hill?

I hate that. I can't even tell you how much I hate that.

Climbing the 3 stories to get to class or lab is more of the same. It is so embarrassing to be the fat sweaty out-of-breath woman, that I walk up one flight of stairs, then walk across the building to another staircase, up another flight, repeat. I'm really dedicated to not taking the elevator, but ugh.

I know I didn't get here overnight, and I won't get out of here overnight, either. I've been trying to ramp up the exercise: making sure I walk the stairs at work, walk a little more, ride a little more. But it feels like I'm making no progress at all.

...
Anyways.

The 24-speed had lived on someone's front porch for over a month. In that time, everything that could quickly be stolen, was, and somehow the bike computer got screwed up.

So, I haven't even been looking at the computer. Why bother? And then today, as I was cursing out some drivers who were trying to run me off the road, I saw that I was going 17mph. Huh? Suddenly, the computer was working! And of course, now I'm even more pissed because, damn, I'm moving plenty fast.

I stop at the light, and then when I get the green, proceed... and on the computer, there's nada. Zip. Then I'm into the downhill by the Rose Quarter, and suddenly, it's working again, and I'm going 24mph (it's a downhill, that's about right).

So who knows what's going on, really?

permalink October 26, 2006 | Comments (3)

October 15, 2006

Vegas, baby

I'm back from Vegas.

One thing is clear. Before I go back, I need to train. Walking around with women in their 70s wore me out. We did manage to see a lot of the Imperial Palace, Caesar's Palace, the Mirage, the Venetian, the Wynn, the Flamingo, and the Bellagio. In one day.

I was fascinated, and still am, with the civil engineering involved in Las Vegas. Indoor canals, outdoor lakes, unending waterfalls, S-curving escalators: how do they do that, really? The whole imposition of fantasy upon the desert. The idea that if you wish it, you can make it so.

And that could be a good way of describing my experience. I had a fantasy, but in the end, it was a desert. It was a buffet where the fish was old, and nothing tasted good. It was just crumbling infrastructure, a lot of flashy exterior and not much real.

I'm glad to be back. But I've been in a funk ever since. My dreams are all Vegas, baby.

...
Yesterday was my darling's birthday, so I was going to save a long walk for today. Great idea, except today is seriously blustery and rainy. We need the rain, heavens knows we need the rain, but I need the walk too.

So I'm stuck with indoor activities. Cleaning, trying to get the evil smokey smell out of all my clothes (there appears to be no smoking laws in Vegas. People smoke everywhere. Even clothes that stayed in my luggage and never saw the casino smell like smoke.), knitting, doing homework. Yes, I know the homework should come first. I know. I'm just not there yet.

I'm still working on a gift for Velogirl and her peanut, and I started making a cowl/gaiter out of the gorgeous Cherry Tree Hill yarn I got in Coos Bay at My Yarn Store. The cowl is going slowly, as you might expect with #2 needles and a 25 inch diameter, but I love how it's knitting up.

Right now I'm obsessed with creating a felted satchel. On the MAX train coming back from the airport, I meet some folks that I instantly wanted to adopt. They had come to Portland on an elderhostel, to do a cruise up the Columbia-Snake rivers, from Astoria (OR) to Lewiston (ID). They were adorable. They could have taken the elderhostel shuttle to the hotel, but instead, they chose to take the MAX. They had been boning up on Lewis & Clark Expedition history in preparation for the trip. They were just so excited.

When I pulled out the in-progress cowl, the man mentioned that his wife was quite a knitter, beaming. And she was beaming too. She had made her carry-on bag, which was the apple-green color that is in now, felted with some slubby-shiny-viscose-y yarn knitted in, and she had trimmed the bag with upolstery trim. It was adorable, and she was adorable.

So I think I could recycle the yarn from the Olympic shrug which was gorgeous but so itchy, and make a satchel of it. That's the plan now..., subject to change like everything else.

permalink October 15, 2006 | Comments (2)

October 9, 2006

pretrip neurosis

So I have this trip to Las Vegas coming up in, well, minutes, it seems. Usually, I spend the week before the trip trying to deny my need to go shopping for a whole new wardrobe, which takes up a lot of energy.

This time, I decided to go resaling, and see how things go. Just embrace the neurosis. I haven't been terribly happy with my clothes lately, which I think is more about my self-image than anything else. But I've been noticing that alot of the work clothes have stains that aren't coming out. It's time to just set them free.

So I drove down to the Dig in Milwaukie. I've still got this stoopid flu bug so I decided not to tempt fate by scootering. Like any thrifting, I ended trying on about 5x more than I actually got, because clothes had the sizing ripped out, or just the total lack of sizing continuity.

Anyways, I came away happy. I got two wool skirts, both relatively lightweight, one grey, one black. Both have pockets! I got a pair of jeans that's a size or two too big, so I can layer on the long-underwear and wools when winter scootering. And I got three tops, all work worthy, with two of them really Mom-worthy. $15

Next stop was Savvy Plus, a plus sized consignment shop. Again, I brought in a pile to try on, and came out with some winners. The real score was a lined cocktail dress in a gorgeous pattern. I also got two blouses and two tops, all Mom-worthy. This was quite a bit more expensive than the Dig, but well worth the money.

On the way into SP, I decided I would stop into the bicycle shop next door. Outside, I saw a lovely 8-speed Raleigh that looked so very sweet. I wonder who in town sells Raleighs? Then I stopped into the store to say hi to my potential future bike, the Breezer, and I ran into Hollie and her sweetie. I got to check out her very sweet project bike, which was cleaned up, repainted and absolutely gorgeous with its new Brooks saddle. We chatted bikes for a little bit--it was so nice to see Hollie!

In the evening, we got together with some of the Texiles and had dinner and some theatre. Dinner was great, theatre, not so much. The theatre actually could have been really funny, but the actors seemed so earnest and overacting that it would have been cruel to laugh.

I was reminded, too, that community theatre seating means unforgiving, tiny seats. Yikes.

permalink October 9, 2006 | Comments (1)

October 6, 2006

I'm just sleeping

Sorry I've been away so long. I've decided that I'm trying to limit the whining on this blog, and if I haven't got anything good to say, I should just shut up. Novel idea.

So it hasn't been the greatest of times, but when things would be heading back up, I'd get too frantically busy to be able to write.

Certainly part of this has to do with deciding to take a graduate class. And getting the flu. And knowing that I'll be seeing my mom next week.

Anyhow. I've been bike commuting, and loving that, even the commutes back home. The last couple days, I haven't bicycled and I really miss it. It's so humane. Taking the bus is fine when I get a seat and get to knit or read, but that doesn't happen so often. Yesterday, I waited for 45 minutes for a bus that was supposed to run every 15. That sort of thing wears on me, especially knowing that there's a little pink bicycle in the shed just waiting to get me to work in 20 minutes.

My graduate course is GIS, geographic information systems, a software that allows you to build maps with all sorts of embedded information. If you use MapQuest or Google Maps, you use a GIS. I have been less than enthralled with it, but I've loved the lectures, and last night, I did my homework in the lab, and that was great.

I walked out of the lab, and I just felt so good. I remember that feeling from graduate school, of really working hard, thinking hard, and getting something accomplished, and just feeling so great. Part of my reasoning for taking the class was that I haven't been feeling so smart lately, but school makes me feel smarter. Oh yeah, baby.

I cheered on my best friend and thousands of others this last weekend at the Portland Marathon. I figured it wasn't going to be big deal, but I got all excited when I got there. And then, as we're riding up the course, watching people streaming down the other side of the street, I just wanted to be there amongst them. I saw lots of folks who looked really bad, who didn't prepare for the day, or just through the luck of the draw were in bad shape.

It's funny. I thought the long distance urge was past me. Maybe not? I have no desire whatsoever to do a 5K. But a 20K or half-marathon sounds great.

I've been really excited listening to the buzz around Electra's new Dutch-style Commuter bike. Today, in the Wall Street Journal, there's an article about the new commuter bikes that it appears everybody's putting out. Usually, WSJ articles are behind a pay wall, but this appears available.

As I read these things, I think a Breezer or a real dutch bike is in my future. I want 7 speeds, I want a hub generator lighting system, I want it to be road-ready. The only thing a Breezer is missing is the coat/skirt guard. Which is very important.

Portlanders seem a bit dutch bike obsessed. I just found this blog just now. Man.

Here are a few more bike related sillinesses that I found via the Bike Hugger:

• Yay! Who doesn't love Free Bike Day?


• Chick Magnets!

permalink October 6, 2006

August 31, 2006

vox redux

Hey. Neca asked for more information about Vox.
I learned about Vox reading Matt Haughey. He wasn't anyone I followed, but I just came across that post, and I just had a big uh-huh moment.

Here's what they say:

Vox is a new blogging tool from Six Apart, Ltd.. This is a unique and extraordinary type of blogging tool because we've put together the knowledge from TypePad, Movable Type, and LiveJournal and created a great new way to blog, with options for connecting to people and managing privacy at the same time.

Vox is a self-contained blogging system put together by Six Apart. They host it, they serve ads on it, you write it. They don't charge for the service.

You don't need to know any HTML to use it. In fact, you can't use HTML. Some people may find that frustrating, and I was one of them at first. But given that I code HTML for a living, I'm happy to just write and find multimedia, rather than spending time trying to get some great effect.

So essentially, initially, it's similar to Blogger in that its free. It's different from Blogger in a couple different important ways:
1) if you choose to put ads on your blogger blog, you earn that money; with vox, it comes with ads that support the service. You can't turn them off.
2) Vox is a community. You can read anything that's posted for public consumption, but if you're not a vox member, you can't comment.
3) Similar to LiveJournal, you choose your degree of revelation with Vox. We all are complicated people: we may want to write about a new opportunity, problems at work or home, or things that only your family would care about. With Vox, you can add people to your neighborhood (which is just a way of easily being able to read their entries), you can have friends, and you can have family. You decide who is what. And so you can write a friends only entry, and only your friends can read it or respond to it.

Mena Trott, the CEO of Six Apart, doesn't actually mention VOX in her talk at TED, but her banjo story talks about the painful difference of writing for the public vs writing for friends.. If you'd rather not stream the video, here's the short version:

In July of 2002, during the height of my traffic I wrote a weblog entry about wanting to purchase a banjo. The punchline being that I don't know how to play any musical instruments and that it was the sort of purchase that characterized my impulsiveness. And, in this weblog entry, I painted Ben as this overbearing tyrant of a husband who controlled my life and finances and couldn't understand that I just needed a banjo.

...

For those who knew me personally and those who had read my weblog since the beginning, the humor in this post was clear. Ben is as much an overbearing tyrant as I'm a professional banjo player.

...

So, back to the banjo post. I wrote it, turned on comments and sat back expecting the usual accolades that made this egoist tick. But then something different happened. In my comments and in my email inbox I received a different sort of comment. The tone could be summed up by this comment:

"Being married is about respecting each other. If your husband won't let you spend your collective money on a purchase you want, you should consider if this is the sort of man you want to spend your life with. After all, how much does he spend on beer in the course of a year."

Anyways, the offer is still open. I have invites. Just ask.

permalink August 31, 2006 | Comments (1)

August 28, 2006

vox

I've been doing some writing at Vox lately. It's interesting. Some of the interface works great, and some of it is frustrating, but by and large, I like having this interface that I don't have to code. I like the fact that it's all out of my control.

It does multimedia really well. You can easily post photos, videos, and books -- audio, I suppose, too, though I haven't tried it.

It lends itself very well to both short, spur of the moment posts and longer ones. And, like livejournal, you can set the level of privacy, so there are entries everyone can read, just friends, just family, etc. It's not as good as the LJ filtering system but most of us don't need that.

So. I have a handful of invites to give away. Want one? Write me!

And check out what I've been doing there at vj.vox.com

permalink August 28, 2006 | Comments (1)

August 25, 2006

music meme

it works like this:

You reply to this post and I give you a letter of the alphabet. Then you drudge up 10 songs that start with said letter and put them in your journal (with these or similar instructions).

Cheesepuppet gave me the letter B, so here's my list!

1. Baby, I can't please you, Sam Phillips


2. Bad News from the Stars, Stereo Total


3. Ballad of a Comeback Kid or Broken Beads or Bleeding Heart Show, The New Pornographers


4. Believe what you're saying, Sugar


5. Birdhouse in your Soul, They Might Be Giants


6. Birds or Bon Voyage, Quasi; Field Studies


7. Birthday Cake, Cibo Matto


8. Bole Chudiyan from the film Kabhi Khushi Kabhie Gham


9. Braided Hair, Speech & Neneh Cherry (from 1 Giant Leap)


10. Brazilectro, Zuco 103


11. Broken Ship, Immaculate Machines


12. But I'm different now, the Jam


13. Butts Wigglin, The Tragically Hip

crossposted at vj.vox.com (with videos of some of these)

permalink August 25, 2006 | Comments (3)

August 22, 2006

Yeah, whatever

I hate the fact that my mood can shift so suddenly.

I had a nice ride into work, and as I'm in the right turn lane, ready to turn the corner into my building, I see a guy who works in the building. It's not that I recognize him: I recognize his bike, this sweet matte black and shiny red Trek.

So I say, "Sweet bike!"

And he says, "Yeah, whatever."

And I say, "I was serious."

And now I'm pissed. I'm all $#*()& you, &Y*@, though he's long gone.

Why can't people be nice? Now my day is shot.

permalink August 22, 2006

August 8, 2006

a good day

It's been a good day. I rode the new bike into work today, and, while the getting started from a stop thing is hard, it's getting easier. I'm getting a little better about trusting that I can balance. It's a weird thing, feeling like I'm learning how to cycle again. Amazed how far my leg can reach and how tight the ball of my calf can go.

I had a good day at work today too. I learned something new, on my own. I broke something and then fixed it. At lunch, I went someplace new (yuck) and strolled and took pictures.

My knee still hurts a lot of time, though not when I'm cycling. It's hot to the touch and still firm and swollen. But I suppose as long as I shaved my legs, I could wear a long skirt to work.

The ride home was a trial, but I made it, I did it, and then I got to eat an omelette that my sweetie made along with some homebrewed hefeweizen. It was good, too. We've spent the evening reading with all the animals on hand. The dog has been especially devoted this evening.

I just got The Girls Who Went Away: The Hidden History of Women who surrendered their children for adoption in the decades before Roe v. Wade from the library. It's good. I think it'll make up its own entry.

permalink August 8, 2006

August 6, 2006

more sidelining

Well, this last week or so sure has been dull.

I've written out my whole sob story, but you're not really here for that. I have housemaid's knee (a goose egg size bump out the side—attractive!), and the last four days have been marked by some sort of rolling illness involving breakouts, feverishness, severe headache, muscle and bone pains, and stomach flueyness. I initially thought I was allergic to the antibiotic for my knee, now, well, can you get a severe headache from a virus?

I was hoping to be starting the week fresh, but I'll be lucky if I can make it to work tomorrow.

And then there's my stoopid knee. I don't have full range of motion yet, nor, obviously, without pain. I'm walking without a limp. I'm dying to bike, but I don't want to screw up what I've already screwed up plenty well, thanks. Bridge Pedal next week looks entirely unlikely. I'm so bummed.

permalink August 6, 2006 | Comments (3)

July 22, 2006

an evening on the river

Misty, of Athena Diaries, was in town the last couple days, and I was finally able to catch up with her last night. She is just as you might expect: a razor-sharp wit, very focused, funny and self-depreciating, so it was wonderful to hang out with her and her husband for a couple of hours.

We ended up at the waterfront, at Riverplace, at a restaurant called Three Degrees. They have some outside dining seating, and also some outside bar seating, where we ended up. They had these wooden rockers out on the deck, facing the river, very nice. I sat working on some fingerless gloves, looking at the river, drinking a decent beer, and some water that some shadowy figure miraculously kept refilled, and even though it was insanely hot, it was quite humane.

I always have a smidge of trepidation about meeting someone that I know online. I've become good friends with people I've met online, and the vast majority of folks I've met have been cool. All the running blogs have been great. But there are some freaks out there and I admit I've been burned.

I had no reason to worry about Misty, and we hit it off like old college chums, with no problems finding things to talk about. I appreciated that Misty kept asking me about some of my favorite things like bicycling in Portland, and the city of Portland, and social services in Portland. And Portland was on: everyone was out in the park, walking along the pathway: punk rockers, young people on dates, people dressed to the nines, muslim women with kids, folks coming from dragon boat practice with their paddles, and every possible "type" of bicyclist. It was beautiful. Too bad it was so damn hot.

I hope they come back soon!

permalink July 22, 2006 | Comments (1)

July 11, 2006

Dump!

I've had a good run of days lately. I've been bicycle commuting every day, and it's getting better. Really.

All the hills this morning: I never sank beneath 10mph. The Hawthorne Bridge, also never below 10mph. May I just say I rock? So maybe things are getting better.

I got asked this morning if my bike was an electric bike. People ask this because it says Electra on it -- the manufacturer of the bike. This morning, it was early on in the ride and I was not wearing my fat-slow-person chip, and so I was able to chat amiably about no, it's not an electric bike.

But there are times, too many times, where I get that question after I've been riding hard for 40 minutes and I'm running late, I'm trying not to pant because there are other cyclists there, and I get stopped at a light, and someone will ask. The fat-slow chip is big and mean and easily offended, because of course, this is all about me.

If nothing else, if I get another bike that isn't an electra, perhaps I won't be getting that question any longer.

...
I did go and look at the next-in-the-running bicycle over the weekend. I had a bit of sticker shock -- the bike was almost a thousand bucks, which was a quite a bit more than I had been planning to spend. It was a nice bike to be sure, and it rode well, but it seemed oddly compromised between the straight up style of the Townie, and the more aggressive bent-over roadie style.

....
I have been going through lots of stuff at the house. We did two dump runs over the weekend! Talk about invigorating! I love going to the dump, and I especially love hurling things off the truck. It's brilliant!

There is part of me who just wants to get stuff out of the house as soon as possible, and another part of me that thinks: Vj, you could sell those books, you could sell those CDs, you could consign that furniture. I'm caught between my old self, who would be looking to squeeze every penny out of this stuff, and my new self who just needs it gone NOW before I can change my mind.

permalink July 11, 2006 | Comments (8)

July 5, 2006

weekend warrior

It's the day after the 4th of July, and you know what that means. I went back to work after listening to firecrackers firing all night, the animals freaking out, and I'm just not that into it. To make matters worse, I need to have my ears pressure-cleaned as everything sounds like it's happening in a galaxy far far away.

I had a good long weekend where I was a bit too much of a weekend warrior. But still, there appears to be no permanent damage, so hey.

Thursday, I did go to the gym and I did a double circuit on the lifecycle weight equipment. I did a couple of chin-ups too, and I figured I might ache a bit for a couple of days. That actually lasted through Sunday!

Friday, I ended up going into work in the morning to finish up some stuff. I walked in, which was so humane, so very pleasant. Though it was odd: as I was crossing the Steel pedestrian bridge, I came upon a wounded rat. It was still alive, and it couldn't move.

I left work shortly before noon and rode the bike into Hollywood and got my hair done. Then I rode into Irvington to see Career Dude. and then home.

Saturday morning, I decided to walk 9 miles. I thought about doing it with PFit, but it just didn't thrill me, so I ended up walking from the house through Irvington, Lloyd, Buckman, Ladd, and Brooklyn... basically from Williams & Fremont to Holgate & Milwaukie. It started off wonderfully: no one was out, the air was cool, there were lots of trees, but I made the mistake of stopping for breakfast on the way back, and time ground to a halt. Suddenly it was hot, there was traffic, and I was tired. I made the whole distance, and I happily took a cold bath, and then I slept the whole afternoon away.

Which is my body's way of going, WTF were you thinking, exactly?

The rest of the weekend was a little lower-key: cleaning, decluttering, hanging out with my loved ones, some biking around. It was pretty great.

permalink July 5, 2006 | Comments (2)

June 29, 2006

what a difference

I'm finally back to normal. I woke, and had energy. Wuhoo! I did some cleaning, and then I jumped on the bike and rode into work.

I decided to take the Eastbank Esplanade rather than the path in Tom McCall since it's a smidge more difficult. It felt good. I felt strong. So strong, indeed, that I crossed the Hawthorne Bridge at 9mph.

Now those of you who are strong cyclists, who are at the recommended weight on the insurance charts, I know this is no big deal to you. Sheesh, yeah, why would anyone celebrate 9 piddly miles an hour?

I usually cross the Hawthorne Bridge at about 4mph. I can walk faster than that! But by that point, I'm starting to tire.

This morning, I was starting to tire as well, but obviously not as much as previously. I've got to celebrate that.

...
I have two immediate goals, and one short-term goal. The immediate ones are to visit the gym today, to exercise over my lunch rather than working through it, and to get a hair appointment (Okay, I guess that's three, but the first two are really combined).

The short-term goal is to fit nicely into my favorite jeans. They fit over the weekend... hopefully when I try them on tomorrow, they'll fit even better.

permalink June 29, 2006 | Comments (3)

June 27, 2006

stealing inspiration

I'm feeling kinda low energy today, so I can use all the help I can get. I was reading Brent's Poignant Irrelevance, and I came across this from an Outside article about Floyd Landis:

There's only one rule: The guy who trains the hardest, the most, wins. Period. Because you won't die. Even though you feel like you'll die, you don't actually die. Like when you're training, you can always do one more. Always. As tired as you might think you are, you can always, always do more. --Landis

The phrase that Brent took away is Feed the Goal.

keep walking past that crap and chew some gum. feed the goal. that is my new mantra for the summer. very simple. focus on the goal, and feed it appropriately. both must be in sync. http://metrxman.blogspot.com/2006/06/feed-goal.html

I'm gonna try to keep that in mind.

permalink June 27, 2006 | Comments (2)

June 26, 2006

Bike Fair!

Maybe it's the heat. Maybe it's my psoas. Either way, I've been moving slower than I'd like since Saturday.

The Bike Fair was fabulous! Sweetie and I went and got brekkie, and then dropped off the water and sunscreen at the park about 9:30 am as volunteers were just beginning to raise the tents.

I made it to the park in record time, 15 minutes. (And yes, I wore the schmatte)

By the time I got back at 12:45, things were starting to look like they were going to happen. Jeff was all set up, ready to size folks for helmets. Jonathan had the craft area up. The pedal-powered smoothie stand was in process. Everyone was working on their area: beer, the stage, the food, the bike portraits, etc. Bike clubs were starting to set up their club houses.

A volunteer area was already set up, next to the t-shirt sales. After a quick walk-around, I stationed myself there and the volunteers started streaming in.

People came in early. People came in late. People showed up for the wrong shift, or just showed up. Everyone was astounding patient with the process, which inevitably involved some waiting, and then some frantic needs all of the sudden. All my volunteers were troopers.

Early on, it was clear that my psoas was not happy. I'd try to find some out of the way place to stretch, but stretching seemed to be just a momentary relief, and anyways, people would kinda freak when they'd see me stretching. Are you okay? So, I just tried to be as comfortable as I could be, and make other people happy.

I had invited some cow-orkers as well as the Texiles, and I saw some contingents of both. The Texiles, in particular, were effusively happy—I've found my people!, Bill would exclaim, gesturing at people wearing costumes, clown paint, garish wigs, goofy clothes.

When my relief came, I immediately went to the bike wedding that I had been invited to. One of the events at the Bike Fair was to Marry your Bike, and one of my volunteers was very excited about doing just that. Lo and behold, her parents came to give her away, and her sibs were there as support as she married her Schwinn road bike. So sweet. It nearly made me cry.

Then I found the Texiles and stood with them in a shady spot, watching the rodeo. Sweetie arrived, and we got in the beer line, which I sucked down altogether too fast. Then another. Meanwhile, the Sprockettes performed, then Johnny Punchclock, then the tall bike jousting.

When everything was done and said, I was exhausted, limp like a, well, I'm not entirely sure. We went down the street to get a slice and some more beer, and then went to catch the bus home.

Here in Portland, we have racks on the front of our buses for bikes, and I have used them successfully a number of times. However, my tiredness and quite possibly the beer I had drunk was catching up with me. I couldn't get the bike on quickly, and then a passenger ran out and started yelling at me that it wouldn't fit on the rack and I needed to ride it home.

I was just too tired to argue.

Not that I minded riding it home... but I just wanted to go home with Sweetie, rather than him on the bus and me on the bike. But in the end that was how it was, and it was fine. Riding home was a bit uphill, and it took me about a half hour, but it was tremendously pleasurable to be riding down neighborhood streets at twilight. I actually made it home before him, and sat out on the stoop, drinking a beer, waiting for him. Nice.
...
Yesterday, I spent the majority of the day prone. It was just too hot to do much of anything.
...
And today, I'm just spent. Everyone I meet appears drained.

permalink June 26, 2006 | Comments (2)

June 24, 2006

the problems with dressing myself

Today is the Multnomah County Bike Fair. I can't wait!!

It's funny though. I've been having the usual obsessive clothing thoughts. What am I going to wear? How am I going to look appropriate?

I go through this with just about any entree into any group, my feeling that I should look a particular way to fit in, and that not fitting in is the worst thing that could happen. Knowing I do this doesn't unfortunately help me not do this, it just gives me a laugh that I'm on the merry-go-round again.

But the thing is, I don't want to be someone else: I want to be me, gloriously me, and fit in because I'm me.

I could wear a skort, and I'm tempted, really to wear a skort. It's going to be hot today, and sunny. The skort has lots of pockets. But I'm afraid the skort is too "spandexy", too corporate cycling. And yet. VJ, this is supposed to be a bridging event. This is supposed to be for all cyclists. Dood, get a grip.

There's the other thought, too, that my legs just aren't what they used to be.

I had this thought, this memory, of when I see attractive, fat women downtown. They're gorgeous, and I'm not sure what differentiates them from the rest of us. Care? Self-esteem? Getting laid that morning? Who knows?

Anyways, at this point it's between the skort with a tshirt, and an old dress from K-Mart. The old dress is probably 15 years old. Right now it's kinda tight. I ripped a big hole out of the back of it on a bike a year or two back, so I no longer wear it to work. It's always seemed like a schmatte to me, but I always get compliments when I wear it. Right now, the dress is winning, but we'll see how everything comes out in the wash.

permalink June 24, 2006

June 20, 2006

and thanks to everyone who wrote with support. I appreciate it more than you know!

permalink June 20, 2006

the psoas -- very deep

After the histronic post of yesterday, I feel like I need to give you an update.

Yesterday afternoon, I went to the masseuse at the sport medicine clinic . I started telling her about the fact that the only tender spot was on my hip, though I was having pain that got my entire low back. She said, I wonder if it's your psoas (pronounced soaz)? She started asking questions, and asking more questions and finally she said, yep, I think it's your psoas.

The psoas is your hip flexor. It can compensate for a quite a few different things: weak abdominals, weak quads, weak glutes, weak hamstrings.

I started noticing that the range of motion for my left leg was compromised maybe a month and a half ago... which would be about the time I quit going to pilates. Hmm.

So, she spent the entire session working on it. It's down deep, stretching between your inner thigh and connecting the spine at your inner back, so the massage was very intense, and I had to stop her a couple of times. It didn't feel any better afterwards, but I did. I had a name, I had a stretch, and I had a better idea of what had caused it.

Anyhow, my bicycling home, with its slight uphill grade, had aggravated it, because I had worked other muscles to exhaustion. It got markedly worse once Sweetie had leant his bike to a friend (who's had it now for over a month), and I started riding Pinky the three speed almost every day rather than the 24 speed. It's not surprising that it finally said when after a week of bike commuting, and riding all over creation, me pushing myself and pushing myself and pushing myself.

I went home afterwards and was prone for the rest of the day. Today, I feel hugely better—even brief periods of being pain and ache free.

I feel significantly more optimistic today as well. While things aren't as I want them to be, and I feel like there's a lot of examination that needs to happen on my part, I feel like the road to better things isn't entirely barracaded.

Yesterday, I felt stuck. I was annoyed that I was in pain, and I was annoyed that I was a whiner. Today, I have a little more compassion for myself, and hopefully for others. When I hurt, I'm not feeling sorry for myself. I'm changing positions, I'm stretching, and I'm recognizing that I need a little more rest than I'd like.

I'm making a baby blanket for a coworker. Today was the shower, and the baby blanket is undone. But I'm almost 2/3 done. It's not how I would have it in a perfect world—but this isn't a perfect world, and the baby blanket will be as good when I deliver it to her in a couple of days.

permalink June 20, 2006 | Comments (2)

June 19, 2006

I need an adjustment

I've been making a determined effort to be upbeat in these posts, but dammit, I'm having a rough time.

My lower back issue seems to be a combination of my torqued pelvis and some muscle imbalance, and it was steadily improving... until Saturday. I came home from the Bike Summit and stayed prone the rest of the day. On Sunday, we ran to the store for a quick errand, and well before it was over, I was wracked with pain.

Today, Monday, more of the same. Dammit.

I had been hoping that I could go to the athletic trainer today to talk about what I need to do to be back amongst the able-bodied, but I'm really in too much pain.

...

I went to the Bike Summit on Saturday, and it was very positive and energizing for the most part.

But I have to say, there are times I hate being a fat person, and this was one of them. There was a huge turnout, and it appeared that there were maybe 5 people there who eat cheese. Everyone else vegan-thin. There were exactly two fat people there, and I was one of them.

There was lots of talk in the main room, or so it seemed, about obesity. On one hand, of course I'm all for preventing obesity—I know the health risks, the costs, the stigma. And yet, it's a little optimistic to think that if people bicycle, they'll lose weight. I bicycle. I walk more than most people. I take the stairs. By all accounts, I'm very active. And I'm dieting, and I seem to be growing at what I would have thought was an unsustainable pace. I've regained all the weight I've lost, and it appears my body is dead set upon putting on another 40#.

Maybe it's my age that's helping, maybe my crash dieting in my 20s. Who knows? All I know is, it's disturbing.

Can you say pariah?

I know it's the fucked up stuff in my head that's getting in my way—no one was talking about me. But while the intro, and the two workshops really were good, and made me feel impowered, the closing panel didn't. And I don't think it was anything that was said, honestly. It was probably just my feeling tired... my lower back hurting, and feeling like I didn't really know anyone—even though I do know people. Not a lot, but there are people I recognize, and some people I've even introduced myself to.

Looking back on it now, I know I should have just gone home before the closing. I just should have recognized that, but I didn't.

...

I had to box up my office on Friday. The office was getting painted and recarpeted, all very nice, and I have to say, it does look very nice. I didn't throw out as much as I should have, but I did some dunging out, and it was quite good. This morning, as I was unpacking, I threw out more.

At home, this weekend, I cleaned out my closet. It was good, and sad, and scary, to see that I've outgrown most of my clothes, but it's a positive to get it out of my closet, so I can really see what I have to wear. Right now, not much.

I am having some tremendous house lust right now. I have to remind myself that my house is plenty big for two people, though right now it seems just big enough for the dog. I'm trying to let go of stuff. It's hard. I feel blocked to some extent, but, I keep chipping away.

permalink June 19, 2006 | Comments (3)

June 13, 2006

grumble

I had all sorts of good news to report. Then yesterday, my lower back went out.

I can still walk and sit and stand—it's just painful, all of it. Sigh...

But last week was a lovely bikey week. I bike commuted every day, and on Wednesday, I had commuted out to the meeting and then home.

The Kickass Parade report
Thursday was the Kickass Parade, which was wonderful—a couple hundred bicyclists, from spandex wearers to bikefun folks to bike messengers to tall and long bike riders.

Thursday afternoon, Sweetie and meet and had conveyor belt sushi in the Pearl, our new fancy expensive industrial-loft district. While we were eating, it was pouring outside. And I had left my rain poncho at work.

So I ended up jumping on Sweetie's scooter, and running back to work. Well, running is the wrong word, as I suspect I could have walked it in the time it took. But once I had the poncho in hand, the rain stopped. And I headed over to Jamison Park.

By the time I got to the park, it was all but teeming with bicyclists. There were a couple of people that I recognized from the night before, but I was too shy to go over and say hi. I should have. I was just all caught up in that will-they-remember-me? they-won't-remember-me bullcrap. I talked to Jon briefly, and to Ayleen, and then introduced myself to a couple other people.

And then I saw Vespabelle and her husband, so I went over to chat with them. Nice!!

The parade went from the park down to Broadway and then south to Salmon, and then east to 4th, by the mall, etc, through Chinatown, and then west onto Glisan to 21st, and 21st to Northrup or somewhere close by, and back to the park.

For the most part, people cheered. One woman stomped noisy out of her SUV to talk to the policeman about having to wait.

I can't even tell you the pure joy I felt, riding in a sea of bicycles. Even really knowing nobody. I felt safe, and like I owned the road. Which isn't to say that riding in that sort of parade is easy, because people are moving around, speeding up, slowing down. But I felt euphoric.

While we were passing by House of Louie, an elderly chinese man was standing by the road, and I heard him say something. Maybe it was chinese? And then a couple blocks later I realized he said Pedal Power. Yeah!!

When we got back to the park, folks started riding through the aquifer at Jamison park.

The Breakfast on the Bridges Report—Hawthorne
As usual, I got to BonB at the very end, so I didn't stop and get coffee. But I introduced myself to Patrick and recognized Kristy, and should have introduced myself to the Police Officer who rides in Slug Velo. It was cool to see so many folks there.

Mocktails on the Bridge
okay, now this is the coolest. They had several tables of snacks and drinks, and were encouraging all bicyclists to stop and socialize. It was great. I recognized some people who don't know me. And then, I saw Jon (of course). Ian from the Bike Fair meeting reintroduced himself, and we chatted, and he in turn introduced me to several others.

While we were hanging out, a couple of Portland Police bike cops came through and stopped, had something to drink and chatted. Totally cool.

Jon ended up riding part of the way with me, which was just so nice. I'm so slow, I feel so guilty. In chatting, he said he has two bikes: a three-speed cruiser that is S-L-O-W, and his regular road bike which is fast. It made me feel better to hear that his three speed is slow too. So maybe it's not just me. (or, maybe it is!).

I ended up not doing the pub crawl. I suck. Basically, I had gotten an email from the host who was feeling well, and I didn't get the impression my services were needed. But I still felt like I should go, even though I was wore out from the week and just want to stay home with my Sweetie.

So I rode over to the pub, and rode around it several times. There wasn't really any legal bike parking and I didn't recognize anyone in the pub. Bad sign. My shyness took over and I turned tail and went home.

And that was all of my bikeyness. I don't even know if I could ride a bike now. Riding the scooter is pretty unpleasant, but realistically, being awake is pretty unpleasant. My body is thoroughly unhappy.

Which sucks. By the end of the week, I noticed that while I still appear to be growing exponentially, many parts of me, or, lets say all parts that don't need a bra were feeling significantly firmer. Like there might be muscles there. Even my belly appeared to slightly have some muscle tone. That's exciting stuff that I need to keep up.

permalink June 13, 2006 | Comments (2)

June 8, 2006

V is for Vendetta

I can't believe how hard bicycling can be. I want to be a bike jock, and when I'm, say, heading to work, it's easy to feel like I'm king of the universe. And then I ride back home again, or ride to a meeting, and I'm nothing but a panting, granny-gear spinning, pile of sweat.

Anyways, I've bicycled all week. On Pinky.

I "fixed" the old Specialized, but it still isn't any fun to ride. It's markedly not fun. I don't like to think of myself as a fussy person, but obviously I am. Sigh! It's time to pass it along to someone who will love it and use it.

...

Daphne, our outdoor cat, has gotten herself into a scrape. She now has a quarter-sized bald spot on her side. She's probably 12 years old, and a robust cat, but I worry about her, and I think it's time she comes and lives inside.

Of course, Daphne is the cat who eats fabric. And plastic.

I see a lot of cleaning in my future.

...

Our friend Sue mentioned a new bar on Williams Street called Vendetta. We went and it was just lovely. The place has this elegant dog-trot/breezeway feel to it, with two garage doors opening to the street and into the garden and back porch. The beer selection wasn't great, but the food looked decent.

It was just this serene urbane place. We sat on the back porch, looking out at the garden, and at the kids playing along Skidmore, and man, all was right with the world. Do they have wifi? If so, I may have to move in.

...

Pedalpalooza begins today. Tonight is the Kickass Parade!

I started really thinking about decorating the bicycle this morning, which was several months too late. I gathered the silver scooter boa, and all the pink yarn I had handy, as well as some lavender giant knitting needles, and I think I'll put that in the basket.

I may make a trip to the dollar store over lunch to see if they have anything to accessorize Pinky. I'm game for some cheap garish pink things!

...

Last night, I had a meeting for the Multnomah County Bike Fair. I had gotten two emails about it, and it just never occurred to me that each email might specify a different time.

So I eat a fast dinner at Rose and Raindrop (note to self: happy hour mac-n-cheese is huge, and pretty good, and the mini-hamburgers approach greatness), and then pedal down to Colonel Summers Park. I get there at 6 sharp.

It's uphill, so I'm all pathetic, and out of breath when I get there. I look for bicycle-types... and don't really see anybody. There's a woman who's dumped her bike and her satchel on the ground and is talking on her cellphone, pacing back and forth, who won't make eye contact with me.

I sit there, in the wet grass, for twenty minutes, and finally I get up and leave. Riding home seems to be entirely uphill, and I feel like I have an ongoing opportunity to be a panting mess. A nice man on a tandem flirts with me; the neighborhoods are beautiful; it's breezy and sunny, and the weather really couldn't be better. If I wasn't all cranky, it would have been a great ride. And so finally, after an eternity, I get home.

I check my email, and yes, the email I had read said 6pm. The other email said 7pm. So I go back outside, jump on the scooter, and head back to the park.

You know that while I was waiting at the park at 6pm, I was thinking all those thoughts, you know, I'm not cool enough to be in their club, I'm too fat, I don't look like a bike messenger, I'm too capitalist, I'm not vegan, I'm fat, I don't have candy colored hair, I have a newish brand-name bike, I don't ride a fixie, I'm a wuss, I don't ride enough, etc...

And when I got there to the meeting, yes, I was the only fat person, but there seemed to be a mix of bike-messenger types, and spandex-wearers, and street clothes wearers. They were really friendly, really fun, really politically incorrect, obviously having a great time, and they seemed really happy that I was there. I felt relieved and relaxed almost immediately.

So when I came back home, I came back energized. This is gonna be good! I can't wait!!

permalink June 8, 2006 | Comments (2)

May 31, 2006

beginning, new

I have just begun the process.

Last night, I lay awake while Sweetie slept. He had complained bitterly about how warm the bedroom was, and fell asleep within a couple of minutes of hitting the pillow.

I lay there, willing myself to sleep. It wasn't working. It was clear I wasn't getting enough exercise.

So, this morning, it began.

I just walked down 5 flights of stairs, and went on a walk through the Urban Renewal District. It's a walk of just over a mile (1.17 miles if you must be exact), with some stairs and slight inclines. I worked up a good sweat, and it felt great.

At lunch, I'm going to ride my bike across the river, get a hot dog (!) and go to the bike store to get a rain poncho. This is a big step, big step. Wuhoo!

permalink May 31, 2006 | Comments (1)

May 27, 2006

My neighborhood is odd.

Things are getting progressively stranger as we march officially into summer.

Our neighbor Theresa bought a house, so she and Fuggles, worlds cutest kitten, have moved away. The landlord seems to be in no hurry to find new tenants, and I fear it will become another group house where nobody interacts with the neighbors. That's old.

Our next door neighbors who own Zoe the pitbull—well, I have no clue what's going on there. I haven't seen Zoe in a month. The cops came by in the middle of the night and confiscated one of their cars. And they've taken to leaving overturned plastic lawn chairs in their front yard, and stuff in their driveway.

But our newest neighbors, who have lived there for about a year, take the cake. Last night, he was out vaccuuming his garage (with the garage door open) at 11:30pm. What's wrong with this picture? Or, should I say, what's right? If I ever talk about vaccuuming my garage at any time of the day or night, please commit me right then.

(Of course, first, I'd need a garage.)

...
Yesterday, it was drizzling in the morning, but I rode my bike anyways. I was mostly drawn by the thought of Breakfast on the Bridges, which happens on the last Friday morning of the month. I hadn't encountered one in well over a year.

After my pannier experience of the other morning, I wanted to make sure they weren't going anywhere, so I checked the velcro, and then added bungee cords.

I then inflated the tires so they were nice and hard, and jumped on, and heard a scraping noise coming from the back tire. I get off, look at it, it all seems fine, but the scraping continues.

So I wheel that bicycle back into the shed, and get the other one out. Inflate its tires. Hit the road.

All of this rigamarole had taken far longer than I had intended, so I got to the BotB at about 8:50, and they were going to be closing up around 9. Of course, they were already closed up and were ready to ride off, and they were very sweet and offered me muffins, and it's all very understandable, but. It set the tone for the rest of the day.My neighborhood is odd.

permalink May 27, 2006 | Comments (1)

May 22, 2006

...

We've been getting some Texas style rain in the last 24 hours or so. I dropped the car at the mechanic so they could investigate the Check Engine light, and walked to work— maybe 15 blocks at the most, but I was soaked to the skin by the time I got there.

It's amazing to see the difference in the plants. Yesterday morning, I could see my neighbor in back's kitchen window, and she could see my back porch. Now, it appears the trees and shrubs have all put on a foot or so in every direction, and there is only barely a suggestion of neighbors.

It's been a big week and a big weekend. It was great getting to meet Lara, and hanging with her for a few hours. We did a little walking tour of a portion of the city. The weather was impossibly good, so I did lots of scootering and cycling. I got to meet Todd, the maker of Stokemonkey, and shoot the breeze about all things Portland and cycling.

On Saturday, I hosted a hot dog crawl, and on Sunday, I watched our local nuclear power plant implode. And then I spent the most of the day writing.

The goal was to get five reviews done for the guide. I was not going to allow myself to work on anything new, or reschuffling what is there, or doing card-sorts, new mockups, etc... I was just going to write five reviews. Five reviews! How hard can that be?

Well, it seems, very hard. I managed to get three-and-a-half done (and I finished the other half this morning). On one hand, it's clear why trying to generate a review in the morning is painful, and why it seems I am never up early enough. On the other hand, having to do one after another was also painful.

permalink May 22, 2006 | Comments (1)

May 16, 2006

2:1

The good news

1. I biked in. And it's a gorgeous day. And it's not even insanely hot yet
2. I cut another bunch of lilacs to fill the bike basket!

The bad news

1. I left my wallet in my scooter jacket. D'oh!

permalink May 16, 2006 | Comments (2)

May 15, 2006

a quick rundown

Well, it's been a big couple of days around SBA.

1. Lara of Running in Place is coming to Portland. Hopefully we're going to get some time to hang out. We're having insanely excellent weather right now—couldn't ask for better, really. I'm hoping to show her how Portland is paradise, what with beautiful cycling and walking facilities, gorgeous gardens, and cold and colder running beer.


2. I loaned Pinky to a friend for a day. It made me so happy to see her riding off into the distance.

   The next day, when they came back, N. was wearing a femmy outfit with a floral patterned skirt that totally coordinated with the bike. Too cool. She also brought me some salted caramels which are so #$%^ good. It was only through considerable willpower that I was able to stretch out the eating of said caramels until yesterday.



3. I worried about commuting to the suburbs for nothing. I got the Dear John letter and mourned it for a couple of days. Sometimes, you don't realize how much you want something until it is denied you.


4. I'm going to be a bit choosier about where I apply in the future


5. Fuggles, the world's cutest kitten, has become a bit of a problem. The other morning, I let the dog out and as usual, I had to coach him through his bodily functions (what can I say, he's pretty and sweet, but none too bright). He's mid-squat when up sneaks Fuggles, and starts slashing him. Sigh. So I try to run off Fuggles, and try to get Echo to go back out into the yard and finish what he had started, but he refused to leave the porch.

   Once I let him back in the house, I went to feed Daphne, and brought the bowl of cat food out to see Fuggles sitting right by the cat food dish spot, waiting for me to put it down so she could eat it. Sigh. So I pick Fuggles up and she starts making demon noises and trying very hard to slash me (she succeed too).



6. I had some great days of bike commuting last week. One morning, I walked into work. Now that is luxury!!


7. Saturday was the St. John's Parade. St. Johns is an area of town that is fairly far from downtown, and which was one of the last communities incorporated into Portland. It's a working class place with a real small-town feeling. It's gentrifying, but the character isn't changing too rapidly.

   I have become more and more enchanted with St. Johns since I've been hanging with the scooter club. It, like the club, seems unpretentious, hard working, family-oriented, and a bit wacky.

   The morning of, I put on a dress with a huge long dramatic skirt, put on some makeup, and headed up there. The parade was all ready in formation, waiting. And about a third of the parade were politicians, hoping to catch a few more voters before Tuesday.

   All around us was goofiness. The Belligerantes, a Schwinn bicycle club, were there in force. There were shriners on ATVs, Beater Queens, and people playing odd pieces of metal.

   We didn't talk about what we'd do once the parade started but once the parade started, we all started hot dogging. Figure 8s, conga lines, slow racing, seeing how low you could go on a turn, we were all doing this. I stood up on the scooter once or twice, and laid down on it.

   It all could have ended in tears. We had a couple of new scooterists who weren't very good at indicating where they were headed, which was exciting. But fun.

   I went home, and found that I had the worst sunburn on my neck and shoulders that I've had since I was a teenager. I've been feverish from the sunburn. I had forgotten how awful a sunburn could be.

permalink May 15, 2006 | Comments (2)

April 21, 2006

Damn, this is cool

I'm a sucker for this sort of thing. This is happening at St. John the Divine, one of my favorite places in my favorite neighborhoods in NYC.

Cathedral of St. John the Divine - Blessing of the Bicycles
Hundreds of cyclists aim to ensure safe pedalling by attending the somewhat eccentric Blessing of the Bicycles ceremony, held at the Cathedral of St John the Divine in Manhattan each spring.

Cathedral Dean, The Very Reverend Dr James Kowalski, offers the blessing to kick off a safe cycling season, sprinkling holy water over each bike in the process. This is followed by a moment of silence to remember those who have died in cycling accidents during the past year. Bike messengers, racers, commuters, recreational bikers and, of course, children, are all invited to this colorful service.

The event has been running since 1999 and adds to the cathedral's colourful collection of annual events and services, which include summer and winter solstice concerts as well as Halloween, Christmas, New Year and Easter happenings.
text from travelguides.lastminute.com/sisp/index.htm?fx=event&event_id=33901
photo from nycbicycleshow.com/blessing/
more info at http://nycbicycleshow.com/blessing/about.html

I read about this via Heath Row's Media Diet

permalink April 21, 2006 | Comments (2)

April 20, 2006

Mission possible

I'm at my best when I have a mission.

This morning, I was reading my mail, and one of the few folks I know in the bike community here asked about parking at the convention center. I have a couple of routes, one of which goes right by the convention center, so I email her back and we chat. I check out the web site, and of course, there is nada about bicycles, but they do have a parking structure.

Click! So I jot her a note saying I'll check it out.

It's chilly this morning, but clear, and a perfectly nice morning for a ride, so I go down to take notes on the CC. I check out the parking meters in the neighborhood: 75 cents an hour, til 10pm. I ride up and down the sidewalks like a dork around the CC: it's 8:00am and the bike racks are all ready almost full.

Today's event was not something I'd think of as terribly bike-ish; but Wordstock this weekend is all about quirky Portland bike-ishness. Which means that those bike racks will be full early.

So I ride into the parking garage, and I see the attendent in one of the booths, so I stop to chat with her, more as a courtesy, cuz I fully intend to ride around the structure. She points out on of the sets of hanging bike parking, and says she's unsure if there's any more. On my first pass around, I spot some more racks in a darkish corner, and then nothing. Interestingly, there are very few cars, and very little traffic. It's just me on the bike, pedestrians carrying laptops and briefcases into the CC.

I go down the very gradual ramp to the lower level, and chat with the attendent down there. She's amused by my mission—I wonder how many bikes they see in the parking garage. I locate a couple of the U racks—there's not a lot down here. An official person looks at me suspiciously. I must be one of those freaky uppity cycling kids, yeah.

The paving is so perfect and it's so quiet here, I just want to ride and ride and ride. It smells like outside, and the breeze blows through.

I finally, somehow, got myself back outside. The ride into downtown was beautiful, and it felt good to have a pocket full of notes.

permalink April 20, 2006 | Comments (1)

April 19, 2006

being in the zone

It's looking beautiful (and frigid) outside. I will bicycle! I will!

While my day yesterday started off cranky, especially as I was hacking some scripting that had worked before, but suddenly was no longer... well, everything turned around in the end. I got my script to work and I'm back to coding, and I had that elation that made me just want to stay at the computer and keep going. If I was single, if I hadn't had pilates last night, if, if, if.

But I still got on the bus feeling like life was very good.

And then Sweetie made me cornbread!

And I was able to scoot to pilates. And the effort of working out wiped my mind clean.
...
We're thinking about scooting to The Dalles on Saturday morning. Their annual cherry festival is underway, and there's a parade on Saturday. With motorcycles. The theme this year: Cherries gone wild! No really, I'm not making that up.

It's an hour and a half by car to The Dalles, and I'm not sure how long it would take us via scoot, but much of it will end up being Interstate, as there are no through roads between here and there. (Actually, there is highway 14, but it's curvy, and I think the Interstate might actually be safer)

I hope we have decent weather. I hope we have decent weather. This sounds like so much fun!
...
A blog I follow has been talking about adjusting to life in a wheelchair. For me, this is fascinating stuff, and more than a little scary. Yesterday's entry was about working in a building that isn't ADA compliant, and what that really means for him/her.

When I look at places for the guide, wheelchair accessibility is one of my criteria. Really, I need to make a pad with all of the different things that I want to be figuring out, because there's always something (generally several somethings) that I forget, and then I have the choice of writing a review that I'll have to edit, or sitting on it.

Most of the time I do the former, because, you know, I'm not getting paid for it and I have a deadline.

Anyhow, the blog is scooterlife and yesterday's entry was The elevator from hell
...
I had an odd, though not unpleasant dream last night. I only had one breast and that one was kinda mishapen. I had the most amazing dorm room, that I needed to move out of right away. As usual, communication was indirect and diffuse. I had (duh) a lot of stuff. But it was all very cheerful.

permalink April 19, 2006 | Comments (1)

April 18, 2006

Free people get to slouch.

This morning, when I left the house (and waited 20 minutes for the bus to come), it looked like it was about to dump. Now, the sun is shining. I shoulda rode my bike, I shoulda rode my bike.

But the bus is good for entertainment, at least. I was sitting unfortunately close to a couple women who were loudly discussing where the Nik3 outlet store was originally and where it was now, a friend who had gone back into prostitution and called it the music biz, text messaging with the guy du jour who was about to get dumped, how offended she was that another friend had offered to cut her (awful) hair, etc. I just worked on my i-cord for the ip0d sock.

Yesterday, I walked part of the way to work, and then walked all over creation over lunch. Quite pleasant. I got caught under the heated awning of the St2rbucks during a brief hail storm—I love watching a good storm from a safe place.
...
This weekend marked the six mile walk. It's mortifying to me to see how much conditioning I've lost. It was a hard walk, not physically, but emotionally.

I know there are folks out there who find solo activities to be thoroughly unpleasant, just because the mind won't shut up. I generally really like my own company, but Saturday was hard. I was very relieved when my coworker caught up with me and we were able to chat.

Maybe this has nothing to do with it, but my dad's birthday would have been Sunday. He's been gone for 8 years now, and it's confusing why some years are harder than others.

I know he would be proud of me. But I miss him a lot.
...
And, it appears my camera is dying. I've grown to love taking pictures, and now that it's mostly taking pictures of random digital noise, it is seriously bumming me out. We initially thought it was the compact flash. So, we changed out the card. Then, maybe it was the batteries. But now its sadly clear that it's the camera.

permalink April 18, 2006

April 13, 2006

happy Yuri Gagarin day! (yesterday)

I'm told that there's a party around the world in celebration of Yuri Gagarin and his amazing feat. He was the first person to go into space, to orbit the earth.

I probably wouldn't know about Yuri if it wasn't for going to Moscow during the 80s. Our first stop was at some Aerospace memorial which had a huge round picture of Yuri behind a dove. Since then, I've been obsessed.

(Though not obsessed enough to know about Yuri's night without someone telling me about it. Sigh)
...
I went to pilates last night, and it hurt. It hurt all during class, and I was seeing stars, but I kept going. My quads were cramping, then my feet. Jill chatted with me a bit after class, and I felt like I might fall over. By the time I got home, every part of my body was sore.

I did the only reasonable thing: drank some water, took some calcium, vitamin C and potassium, and drank some more water.

I was kinda expecting to wake up and be unable to move, however, I felt better. Still very achey, but better.
...
I had an icky experience at MPOW. I like to think I'm considerate, and punctual, and hard-working, that I'm a good judge of what's important and what's not. Anyways, I got my buttons pushed today, and I keep trying to figure out how I could have handled it better. I mean, I did handle it okay but it still made me feel icky.

And the next morning, it is still making me feel rather despondent. It's about respect. But it's also about my ability to take care of myself.

I'm going to need to figure out how to elevate the mood. I'm thinking, walking or biking to work.

permalink April 13, 2006 | Comments (3)

April 11, 2006

Argh!

Oh. And the dog ate my bra.

permalink April 11, 2006 | Comments (4)

Si se puede!

Okay, maybe it isn't all Michael Jackson's fault.

Maybe. But still.
...
I just got back from walking a quick mile and picking up some coffee. The air is brisk, but it's not raining. The sky, of course, looks like it may begin at any minute, but for the time being, it's dry.

It's been a good morning. I got some great cuddle time in with Sweetie, did some housekeeping on the guide, a load of dishes, and a load of laundry. And, I'll be learning some new stuff too. Wuhoo!

It's good that I'm suddenly productive after a couple of days of laying low with a headache that wouldn't budge. The weekend was a wash. I did go see a couple movies at a film festival, but otherwise spent too much time on the couch. Didn't read, didn't knit, didn't walk, didn't watch TV. Ugh.

Yesterday was kinda cool though. I had seen the headlines on USA Today about how immigrants were going to flood the streets, but to be honest, the protests and rallys weren't really on my agenda. So I'm at my desk when I hear chanting. My window faces out into the plaza of One World Trade Center, and it's a popular enough place for a protest.

I looked out and saw people walking in, carrying mexican, american and combination flags and signs, very peaceably. I decided it was time to take my lunch.

By the time I got downstairs, the plaza was entirely full, and people were still streaming in. Things were orderly, polite. I took my place with the professional photographers and their big fancy cameras, and hoped that the compact flash card in my camera would manage to hold out for one more set of pictures.

I could see our building's security people, all standing outside as if all hell was going to break loose.

There was very little police presence, and none of the drama that surrounded protests and rallys before we got this police chief. No riot squads, no SWAT team, no ATVs, no horse cops.

At one point I noticed a tall blonde cop standing over a significantly shorter hispanic man, and I noticed this as the rest of the crowd did, as they started surging toward the cop. The cop left like it was no big deal, and the atmosphere went back to being a celebration.

I tried to go into the coffee shop on the plaza, but the security guards wouldn't let me in. Where else could I get a bacon sandwich? So I ended up walking up 2nd Ave, against the current of the crowd flowing in. At one point, I ended up on the street, because there was no room on the sidewalk!

I got a fish taco, and headed back to the building. The cops had shut down the street, and they were obviously relaxed, answering questions. Wow, what a crazy idea that a protest doesn't have to be a confrontation.

I have to admit, my half-hour or forty five minutes in the rally/protest/celebration hugely buoyed my spirits. Si se peude, in deed!

permalink April 11, 2006 | Comments (1)

April 7, 2006

clueless

There's been a lot of buzz on beer blogs and mailing lists about Michael Jackson, the craft beer expert, appearing on Conan O'Brian. It was an embarrassment.

Let's see. He had his fly open. And he was visibly drunk.

To make matters worse, Jon Lovitz was also on, and he had an easy target.

It made me think. Do beer lovers, even high-falutin' beer lovers like me, appear to be lushes? Am I clueless?

Well, I know Michael Jackson is, at least. Dude, this isn't about Conan, and this isn't about what you wore.

This is about being disheveled and drunk. This is about looking like an idiot.

...

One of my biggest fears is being clueless. Obviously, there are lots of opportunities for ignorance, but it's one thing to be ignorant, and another to be an idiot. I don't ever want to be an idiot.

permalink April 7, 2006 | Comments (2)

April 6, 2006

scootational!

I'm feeling rather underwhelmed today, but I keep reminding myself that I don't necessarily have to share that with others. Not, obviously, that I'm succeeding.

I biked home last night—a gorgeous afternoon, and as usual, the ride home kicked my butt. Someday it will be fun. I suspect that's a long ways off, and it will come when I stop looking for it. Soon afterwards, Sweetie and I scooted to our scooter club meeting.

The meeting consisted, as it frequently does, of all of us standing in front of the Bookstore, talking about motorcycles and scooters. There wasn't a vintage scooter in the lot. We even talked a bit about official club business: the parade coming up, and the Cherry Blossom Festival in the Dalles, maybe even getting patches. We're such dorks!

We were at the point of actually starting to ride when a clutch cable snapped—I'm thankful that it was before the ride started. As it was, A's bike had a waiting garage about two blocks away, so it could have been much worse. But he had been so excited about the weather and the first spring ride, and his regret was palpable.

Anyways, we ended up just riding down to the pizza place around the corner from our house, and as we were parking the scoots, up comes A with family, so we all got to hang together and chat. It was the nicest evening I've had in a long while.

No computer, no TV, just socializing. Good.

Not that I've been having bad evenings. On Tuesday, Jill and I hung out for a while after pilates, and it just felt really good to catch up with her. And I got to have coffee with Jess on Tuesday morning. But I feel like I've had limited face to face time with humans I like lately, other than my sweetie.

Speaking of pilates, every inch from the knees and elbows up aches. Damn. My glutes hurt so bad that I have to think about how to rise from my office chair!

permalink April 6, 2006 | Comments (2)

April 5, 2006

process, progress

So, I've managed to be good for the last 24 hours or so. I don't know how long I can hold out!

I'm joking, some. I went to pilates last night; I've eaten sensibly; I've been drinking water like a camel, and I rode the bicycle in today. It's not glamorous, but it's something.

Last night's pilates was all about hip flexors and glutes, for some reason, and now today I am all about feeling how achey and cranky my hip flexors and glutes are. I really like that achey feeling, though—I like this tangible reminder that I'm making my body stronger, and that I showed some self-discipline last night.

I'm reading (slowly) Steve Pavlina's Self-Discipline series, and it's quite clear that in some things, I have lots of discipline, and in others, I have none. I'd like to improve everything all at once, of course, like some sort of crazy magic wand that somehow cleans the house, and gets the weird grit and moss out of the grooves of the car's exterior, teaches me how to appropriately wear makeup and style my hair, and causes my bank account to swell.

But ya gotta start where you are. I've been reading Granny gets a Vibrator (worksafe, in spite of the name. Though it does have the word vibrator in very large letters right at the top)—she's got a great voice, and while there is a bit of noise, there's a lot of signal there. A recent post talks about how she went from being an 115 lb weakling to the formidable ass-kicker she is now, and it's clear that her transformation took some time. And it makes me really want to get back to the gym.

permalink April 5, 2006 | Comments (3)

April 4, 2006

I shoulda biked

About this awful picture: it appears there is a fort, or a porch, or something, on top of a roof, right off Alberta! I gotta know more!

It's gorgeous outside—beautiful, sunny. I thought about bicycling, but then, I didn't. It was a matter of time: tires needing inflation, locks needing to be gathered, etc.

I met up with Jessica of Andiamo! this morning at the neighborhood coffee place, which is conveniently located by her new job at the BootsNAll World Headquarters. I've been following BNA since the beginning of time (which, I think means since about 1999 or 2000), when they were just three guys in a shared house in Eugene who had this blossoming, exploding travel web site. And it is so totally cool, so great, to see something so personal, so human, so what the web should be, paying for itself.

Anyways, I joke that BNA might be my dream job. But maybe I'm not joking.

It was great to meet Jessie, chat about travel and work and cats (the cat yesterday, by the way, was Fup. Store Cat. at Powells)—a tremendously humane way to start the morning.

Oh, and she gave me a DVD of the last day of the Tour de France, so I can see Lance's speech. Is that sweet or what? Wow!

Also, she has gorgeous hair.
...
So, I took the bus in, which was unexpectedly interesting. There was a couple, nodding off. This might not have caught my attention if not for the fact that there was gator@de all over the floor of the bus when I got on. A stop or two later, one of the passengers at the front of the bus began putting down paper towels and giving meaningful glances to the woman who had spilled the gator@de. It was only after watching the gator@de spilling woman (GSW) that I realized that she was, in fact, nodding off.

Her gestures, towards herself, and her seatmate, were clumsy. Sweeping back her hair meant using her hand like it was a piece of wood, totally foreign to her. She'd remain upright, but the hand holding the bottle would start to tip, or loosen. She'd fall into her seatmate, who would poke at her like you might a classmate who's snoring beside you, except his hands aren't working right either.

At one point when the gator@de holding hand started to fail, the woman who had put down the towels started saying, "Miss, Miss, your drink..." to no recognition. So the man behind her jabbed her and said, "Your drink is spilling". GSW initially looked pissed, like Courtney Love pissed, like I'm gonna beat up as soon as I can figure out how to stand up.

But then, she started thanking people for telling her. When they clumsily, slowly lurched off the bus, she thanked everyone again.

This totally made the normal looking guy who was having a conversation about celebrity women with himself seem, well, commonplace.
...
I had another bad night's sleep punctuated by waking up and thinking about the guide. Jessie was talking about how the BNA big cheese bounds outta bed super early charged by the new ideas he's excited about... I wish that was me. Instead, I wake up in the night thinking, I gotta figure out x or I gotta do y, and I just lay there, trying to will myself back to sleep.

I think this is just my body saying, VJ, you better get out there and get some more exercise.

I've been intrigued by the idea of getting up earlier. Brett of Walking Portland has been talking about rising at 5am, and Hollie of Cheesepuppet mentioned this article about how to be an early riser. Essentially, it just comes down to getting up earlier. No whining, no but I'm tireds. Just set the alarm and do it.
...
Part of this might be about the fact that, for the first time in a couple months, I don't have a collection of entries waiting to be posted on the guide. Usually, I have at least a couple in waiting, and a couple partially written.

I've been so caught up in upgrading, and in working on an alternate version. I need to keep the big picture in mind!

permalink April 4, 2006 | Comments (3)

April 3, 2006

time changes

May I just say that I hate when the time changes? I hate it!

Saturday's PFit was good. There was walking, about 4 miles worth. I lost one of my toe-sock-cum-fingerless-gloves, so I'm bummed. But by and large, a nice walk, good heart rate, blah blah blah.

Then I went and ruined it by having a beer with breakfast. Which meant I went home and slept most of the afternoon.

As you might have noted by the last message, I upgraded my blogging software. It all went well, ha, until Saturday night when I couldn't get the guide to rebuild (which basically means: I couldn't change anything). So Sunday morning, I sat on the back porch combing through code while Sweetie brewed some beer. It took a ridiculously long amount of time to find the bad code... but once I did, it all was lovely and sparkly and new.

Still, if you encounter weirdness, please e me at -vickijean at gmail dot com-

Setting up the cellphone, however, has not been as smooth. For some reason, it doesn't seem to matter what phone number I dial: I get an answering machine at American Eagle. What is American Eagle? Hell if I know.

I just want it to work. I don't want it to be a project. Sigh! Time for a walk!

permalink April 3, 2006 | Comments (1)

April 2, 2006

this is a test

Okay. I've just upgraded MT. I wonder what the fallout will be. This seems too easy.

permalink April 2, 2006 | Comments (2)

March 31, 2006

Is something in retrograde?

This morning on the bus, there was a lonely guy who was making conversation with everyone. At one point, he looked at someone I used to know, a butch woman, and told her that he (as in, she) looked like John F. Kennedy. He continued to chat with her for sometime, obviously never realizing that she was female.

To her credit, she was cool as a cuke. But how anyone could think she was a man, I really don't know.

After a bit of that, he started chatting with the woman behind me, who immediately began making conversation with me about my knitting and why were there, um, four, of those things?

(I'm working on an ip0d sock with cotton candy pink fixation [cotton/elastic] in the Pretty Comfy Sock pattern that's easy to memorize.)
...
It's a beautiful day outside. If I had managed to get myself out of bed early enough, I would have walked downtown, and if it wasn't date night, I'd have biked downtown. But alas. Anyways, I am still stuck with these horrible Jenny Lewis and Silver Jews cravings, and I think I'm just going to give in and buy them on my lunch.

Which should mean I'll get a decent walk in.

I'm anxious for the weekend, which already is getting full. Ack! I think I might try updating mov@bletype this weekend after I do hard backups of everything online. Oh joy!

I have a bit of trepidation about the update, but I've convinced myself I need the new features. Between all the blogs, I now have something like 1300 entries, and finding things in the guide is a pain—which is especially painful as I try to drag portions of it into this century.
...
The fallout is still happening about the fancy dinner Wednesday night. There were two tables, and from the descriptions, we might as well have been eating at different restaurants. There's been a "I'm the expert here" argument about authenticity, and someone has posted a review on their site based on that evening.

The thing is, restaurants love it when the group comes in, because they know that we talk and talk and talk about it. Usually, they cut us a deal, and we get an incredible spread. I think it's similar to when one of the food reviewers in town goes into a restaurant: since they all publish their pictures and use their real names, surprise surprise that no one is writing hard-hitting reviews, because they are most likely getting better food and service than other diners.

It wouldn't be fair to my readers to review a restaurant based on a special evening. I mean, are they going to be gifted smelt and get a tasting menu of 12 items for $30? Let me answer that for you: no.

I think the only thing that can be taken away from the experience is that evening at the same time, in the same room, with the same servers and same kitchen staff, that restaurant was inconsistent. That's the only conclusion that I can draw.

permalink March 31, 2006

March 30, 2006

SABENA

A friend from college went back to Europe to see family, and they had scored a great deal on airfare. This is 20 years ago, a whole different world. Anyways, I remember when he got back, he told me that his father said that the airline name was an acronym for such a bloody experience, never again.

(oh, speaking of which, you've got to check out the best web site EVAR! I'll wait. Here it is: sabena.com - oh, and it only works in Internet Explorer 5! Dude! That's the best!)

That's how I feel about my dinner experience last night.

I went out with the food group to a well-regarded, very hip restaurant last night. Our ringleader put a lot of work into working with the restaurant to get a reasonably priced meal for us. And the restaurant is beautiful.

So here's how it all went wrong.

Our long long long table is along the wall. If anyone who is sitting on the wall side needs to leave the table, everyone else on the way to the end of the table must also get up. Guess where I was sitting?

So me, my claustrophobic self who was tired and iffy about being there, who had a sicky boyfriend at home, is stuck on the wrong side of the table. The walls are made of concrete, and all the sound bounces, making it hard to hear the person directly across from you.

Grumble, grumble, grumble. And then the food took three hours in coming and was in tiny, excruciating slow doses and sure some of it was really good, but all I wanted to do was go home.

Okay, enough of my grumpiness. I've been obsessed with a couple things that were on the videos this weekend. Like Jenny Lewis and The Watson Twins' Rise Up with Fists. I don't know if the video is an homage to Hee Haw, or to the Grand Old Opry, but I love it. Visually, I don't think it needs the Sarah Silverman-Hee Haw gags—it's a sleeper, but once it has its hooks in you, damn. Jon, I think you'd like this a lot.

Unlike having to see Jenny Lewis multiple times before it had its claws in me, the Silver Jews—man!—all I gotta do is see one of their videos once, and I'm sank. Like this latest one, Sleeping is the Only Love—brilliant. (You Tube, why do you let me down? Where's the video??)

Okay, so now I am totally infatuated with the cape that Cassie is wearing over her ceili/Irish dancing dress while riding a bicycle. Yes, I must knit a cape. If you would have asked me two days ago about the gauchest thing you could knit, I may well have said a cape. Now, I must knit one. Reversible. And maybe a ceili dress.

How Can I Love You (If You Won't Lie Down)—also brilliant. Though no capes.

permalink March 30, 2006 | Comments (2)

March 28, 2006

flake, continued?

I was riding the scooter over to drop off the sample knitting last night when I started to feel queasy. My stomach and I are never on the best of terms, and it's been really rough lately.

Still, I had a great bicycle ride home. Very very slow, but pleasant and not too excruciating, even though the tires were soft.

Anyways, I'm on the scooter, and I'm thinking it's nerves. Even as I'm getting better about commitments, agh.

By the time I drop off the knitting, I'm feeling pretty bad. And on the ride home, I'm feeling the old am-I-going-to-vomit-into-my-full-face-helmet? Am I going to make it home?

I did. But I feel pretty crappy. I'm feeling past the worst of it, but my insides hurt something awful. Hopefully this is just a momentary blip.

permalink March 28, 2006 | Comments (1)

March 27, 2006

Flaky like a biscuit

It's a beautiful morning out there. I'm hopeful that today will be the day that I get to ride my bike back home, and I can begin bike commuting anew. It's been in the parking garage at work for, umm, weeks now. I miss it. A lot.

I hate getting up in the morning, looking outside and seeing a perfect bicycling day, and knowing that I already have a bike waiting for me at work. Hopefully, today, I can make things right.

The weekend: well, it was great and it left a lot to be desired. The sample knitting is going really slowly. Really slowly. I hate it. It's beautiful but I hate it. I'm used to patterns that you can easily memorize, but with this, I have to count out each stitch, and compare it to the pattern. Intarsia and Fair Isle have been easier than this pattern, and I don't know what that's about. Maybe the deadline?

My desire to start some new knitting project seems much stronger than it did during the knitting olympics. All I can think about are the projects that I've promised to Sweetie's mom and stepdad. And yet. I hate being a flake on the sample knitting. I've managed volunteers before: flakes are just a pain. And I am definitely a flake in this category.

So anyways, I spent a bit of the weekend avoiding the sample knitting. I could have been decluttering, or working on the yard or career stuff or the guide, but mostly, I was just procrastinating on the sample knitting, which meant I got very little done indeed. Sigh.

When I first got the sample knitting, I wrote my coordinator back and said that I was afraid that I had bit off more than I can chew, and I never got a response. Rationally, I know she may have never gotten the email, but emotionally, I'm sure she hates me and wants to taunt my dog. Realistically, I'm sure she's used to flakes, and she probably builds that into her timelines (I hope).

permalink March 27, 2006 | Comments (2)

March 24, 2006

watch out!

Advice for two-wheeled commuters
A scooterist got into an accident the other day. It wasn't her fault, a car ran a stop sign and pulled out in front of her, and she hit the door, and flew over the car. She's broken all of her extremities and will be having facial surgery soon. And, she has no health insurance.

Her full-face helmet saved her life.

Though I knew this before, it bears repeating. If you're on any sort of bike, remember:

• everyone is out to get you


• the drivers don't see you


• they aren't paying attention


• they're talking on their cell


• they're thinking about their loved ones


• they're late to work


• they've had bad news


• even if they've made eye contact, have they actually seen you?


• people are idiots


• they're inebriated or they're tired


• assume the worst


• always have an exit strategy

If you'd like to give a donation, you can do so at any US Bank—just say you would like to make a donation to the Kalaisha Watrous fund.

So f#$%g cute, it makes you wanna puke
This morning, I had pulled my scooter out of the shed when Fuggles, the worlds cutest kitten, walked up. She rubbed up against my leg once or twice, and I turned away to put on my helmet, because you know, I had places to go and people to see. I turned back around, and there she was, with her rear legs on the seat of the scooter, and front legs on the handlebars. And muddy pawprints all over the place. Oh!

permalink March 24, 2006 | Comments (1)

March 23, 2006

Workshops improve our skills

I am now wolfing down lunch before heading into work. I am so very glad that I attended that workshop this morning.

I started having some remorse about it while I was getting dressed. "I probably am going to know all this". "There probably isn't going to be anything new". Yeah, right!

It was great—I ran into an old acquaintance there, as well as a coworker who I had no idea would be there. So I actually knew some people. And I was good, and introduced myself to others. Gave away some marketing ideas, too.

Anyhow, the 3 plus hours of the workshop flew, and I was really captivated. Great speaker, great topic, not a whole hell of a lot there that I knew, lots of research to back it up.

I'm not looking forward to trying to sell it back at the office, but I'm glad I'll have back up.

permalink March 23, 2006 | Comments (1)

March 21, 2006

needs and wants

In a consumer society there are inevitably two kinds of slaves: the prisoners of addiction and the prisoners of envy.
—Ivan Illich

from Todd Farner's Cleverchimp blog

I was just checking out Todd's blog—he has a couple entries about his recent trip to China. Here is an interesting tidbit:

Lots of bicycles and tricycles about; perhaps 10% of the bikes and 25% of the trikes are motorized in some way, while perhaps two-thirds of all vehicles on the road we traveled were more efficient (i.e., lighter and slower) than, say, a Prius. I couldn’t draw admiring parallels to the Netherlands, though, as unlike Amsterdam it seemed very clear that we in the car were expressing a superior class distinction. Generally, the cars are shiny and the people driven by them are in a hurry, with something to prove, while the bicycles and especially the trikes are amazingly decrepit and driven by people of hard means with dour resignation.
...
But the very deepest incomprehension followed the explanation that my particular bike motorization scheme compels the rider to pedal; it was as if I were mentally handicapped about the purpose of a motor. Indeed, many riders of the popular motorized bicycles in Beijing remove their feet from the stationary pedals and rest them awkwardly on the downtube as if to advertise their arrival to the new leisure class.
—Beijing Brompton diary: part two

It just gave me pause.

I'm thinking about my own life, of course. This morning I had a public transit malfunction of epic proportions, but at least I got about a half hour's walk in. But had I ridden my bike? I would have been in in less than half the time.

I was thinking about the guide as well. It's my excuse to go out and try new restaurants and taverns. After all, I have to do those daily entries. However, am I contributing to consumerism? Yes, definitely. Should we go back to a time where going to a restaurant was a special event? No. If anything, I wish for an idealized history of corner stores and corner taverns, where we were much more connected to our communities.

This, I think, is what I find so compelling about what Jon is doing at BikePortland. He's building community. Bridges between the various bike cultures. He's out there, talking to people, going to meetings, etc.

Anyways, two different issues, consumerism and building community. The latter is where the guide is falling down.

I went through the stats this morning. I was sobering. The guide gets a lot of hits, but everything in this domain gets many, many, many more (like the person doing a web search on "fat woman on a scooter"—yikes, the truth hurts). I need to do some promotion!
...
I was invited to a happy hour press meet-and-greet yesterday. It was at a place I particularly dislike, but hey, free beer and food, so I set out walking there anyways.

I walk in, and the entire room is full of people. Someone directs me to the person with the name badges, and it feels like it takes forever to get to her. She takes my name, gives me a blank name tag, and pushes me out of the nest. I have no idea how or where to get beer (and maybe I misunderstood—do I have to pay for the beer?). I know not a soul in the room. I'm not really even sure why I was invited.

I looked around, and recognized some names, but they were already in conversations and inaccessible in the crush of people, and tables. So I bailed.

This is very different from a schmoozing event, where the schmoozers are driven by potential jobs or sales—really, all I had to gain from this was the free beer and snacks—though I would have liked to meet some of the writers.

But would it have been so hard to have several people staffing the check-in table, and have each of them briefed on who does what, or, at the very least, the art of making conversation? They could tell you, for example, how to get a drink. Or better yet, they could be sure that you got one. And then have a couple of other people who are standing nearby as icebreakers, so the checker-inners could pass the new person off to them? So, the new people have a contact, a face, a name... and a drink?

If you had a party at your house, you wouldn't let people wander in alone, not knowing anyone. No, you'd take their coat, get them a drink, introduce them to someone you think they'd like to talk to. Why shouldn't a networking event also work that way?

permalink March 21, 2006 | Comments (1)

March 20, 2006

happy spring!

Today is one of those days. It's so damn beautiful outside—sunny, with the merest hint of spring in the air—and everyone is feeling it. It's energizing. Wuhoo!

I guess this is the first day of spring, after all.

It's been a good day so far. I got together with Jonathan from BikePortland this am for coffee (though we both had OJ) and we talked a lot about blogging, PR, blogging, bike culture, blogging, activism, blogging and remaining true to our peeps. I have been so focused on the guide... but I'm hopeful that I'm going to become a little more well-rounded again soon.

Anyways, great to see Jon, and then I came into work and learned something new. Damn! I wanna learn something new every day!

I had a great, though crazy weekend of running around Sellwood, cleaning, and some beer brewing. Yesterday afternoon, we had some time left in the wort boiling process, and it was just Sweetie and I. We sat on the back porch in the sun, in front of our boiling beer. Incredibly relaxing.

And everyone was relaxing. Daphne had decided to go elsewhere when lots of people were over, and she's not that crazy about open flames on her backporch. But she came back, and Echo came out, and they curled up together in the old dog bed that was put in a plastic chair.

permalink March 20, 2006

March 15, 2006

another dream

It's somewhat ironic that Neca tagged me as having weird dreams, because I had another whopper last night!

So, I dreamt I was on a trip with Sara. Or, maybe we both just happened to be in the same exotic place at the same time? Anyways, we were in the big exotic foreign... thing. Like a coliseum, or european public market, or a mall, or a train station. Imagine big space with the exterior ringed with shops/restaurants/cafes, and doors to the outside. We see a booth/stall/business, and it's mostly obscured by sheetrock*, and so both of us are like, what is that? We gotta know. We're overcome with curiosity.

Well, we remove the boulder or whatever is holding us back—whatever, it's huge. We go in, and it's basically a table of religiously themed jewelery: I am struck by the most gorgeous rosary-esque necklace in a light green variscite-like stone—it's gorgeous, I've got to have it. But it's really unclear what language they are speaking. Then Sara starts speaking this flawless french** and procures the necklace. My hero!

Then we start to leave, except it's not clear where the exit is.

So we start moving quickly down these tunnel-like hallways. They aren't small or low-ceiling, but they're obviously not designed for the public. We go upstairs, downstairs, through doorways, into offshoots. We finally come into what appears to be the end of the line: the hallway ends at a puddle of water with a ladder reaching up to a platform which has 2x4s x'ed across its entrance. There's a door there of course, but it doesn't look like it's a real door.

By this point, we are a crowd, and the despair is palpable.

I immediately backtrack. There has to be a way out! And taking a non-descript hallway, which leads to a room which becomes another hallway, I find someone coming out who says, yes, that is an exit. I excitedly run back to the crowd and tell them the good news—that I just encountered someone who pointed the way to the exit. Then I realize that I should have checked to see if it was the exit. Man!

But we go follow his directions, and sure enough, we open a door and end up on a live railway platform. Like, the rails are about 3 feet away from the door, and a railway employee is standing on his shallow platform, and motions for us to be careful. Uh, we were looking for the exit, I say. Oh, he says. Just go upstairs, and points to a stairway behind him. And we do. And we're back in the train station, but now the doors are clearly visible.

WTF?

* The obscuring by sheetrock is no doubt a reference to My Place of Work. My building exterior is being remodeled and so they have sheetrocked over the external entrances to the store and the coffee shop. It's a big PITA because in so doing, they closed (and for all intensive purposes, put out of business) our tiny little coffee shop which made very variable coffee and fairly reliable espresso, some of the best breakfast sandwiches in more than a 4 block area, and the world's fastest lunches. The building has wanted to force the coffee shop out for awhile, which seems so silly given that it has prime realestate available on two of its four sides. Hrrrmph!

** Sara and I went to the same college but not at the same time. That college requires you to be proficient in a language by the time you graduate. Sara was proficient in spanish, me in french and german. (At least she uses hers!)

permalink March 15, 2006 | Comments (1)

March 14, 2006

energy

There was a guy on the bus—you know, there generally is. He was standing up by the driver, talking to him loud enough that the rest of us couldn't help but hear. He started going on about his lottery winnings, in the millions of dollars, about his truck, his acreage, his guns.

I of course just wanted to go up and ask him—if you won the lottery, why are you on the bus?

Would I ride the bus if I won the lottery? I could be so wrong, but I think I would. I have bad experiences so rarely, and if nothing else, it's great people-watching. It ends up being me time too—I can't work on the guide, I can't work on work, I have to do something like... look around; read a book or the paper; knit something; start a conversation.

Of course, I have a deadsimple bus commute. I walk two blocks from the house, wait at a stop for a bus that comes at least every 15 minutes, which drops me about 1500 feet from the door of my building. I bought my house with bus commuting in mind: but specifically, bus commuting into downtown. If I worked somewhere else, like not downtown, where I would have to change buses, that wouldn't be so much fun.

I spent my time on the bus working on my sample knitting—doing a stitch I had never heard of, and now am just baffled that I didn't come up with it myself. It's so cool—I'm getting paid to learn something. Even though part of me is bristling at the deadline.

It been a good series of days. I've had good energy and actually gotten some things done. Yesterday, I went on a scooter ride, and ran into Hollie (the runner, not the cheesepuppet). It was wonderful to see her, wonderful to feel her intense energizer-bunny enthusiasm and soak a bit up. Last night, I met with a local beer PR person to learn more about the beer scene in town—that was fascinating, and she was quite enjoyable.

This morning, I got up early, and actually kept up on the momentum.

Sweetie brewed beer Sunday, which ended up being a social occasion. Oh, and we tried his first brew: it was good. A porter. If I bought it, I wouldn't feel disappointed, which was kinda exciting. Dude!!

permalink March 14, 2006 | Comments (1)

March 10, 2006

kitten alert

So, with each step, I feel my core. And it's not very happy.

I've heard the class chat about how your core is your powerhouse, how it enables everything. And every now and again, I have the opportunity to remember this. Like now.

But in spite of this, or because, I didn't go to pilates last night. I suck.

Other than shirking essential responsibilities, I'm doing pretty good. Feeling focused, setting small goals, following through. This probably isn't big deals to most of you, but after the last little cycle of depressive periods, it's pretty darn exciting for me.

As usual, I can't do anything halfway. I'm concerned with search engine findability at my place of work (MPOW), and so I am concerned about it with the guide as well. I really have a lot of work to do on the guide... I've been learning the hard way about categories, and being overenthusiastic about them. 'Nuff said there.

It's been snowing here but not sticking. Big fluffy beautiful snowflakes. I wanted to get a picture of the backyard this morning, what with the snow flying and the daffodils blooming and the fence falling in, and the world's cutest kitten sitting on the one stable part of the fence. But then Echo started barking at the world's cutest kitten, and I became distracted.

The world's cutest kitten belongs to my neighbor Theresa I'm told, though I haven't seen Theresa outside of when one of us in driving or riding by in months. But, it's a sylvester, with black face all over except for a little ascot and socks. It's tiny, and totally outgoing, and so damn cute that a person could just kotz. I worry though—such a little kitten, ranging around our busy street, and our even busier cross street, by herself.

permalink March 10, 2006 | Comments (1)

March 8, 2006

results, results

I rode the scooter down the driveway this morning, and for the first time ever, almost tipped. It was rather exciting. Even more so because I was wearing a skirt with no leg armor. Note to self: get leg armor or c@rhart pants.

Sweetie and I opened a bottle of his first batch of homebrew last night, and, it was good! Really good, actually. This is so tremendously exciting.

Pilates was very hard, very very hard, but I stayed the course. I worked hard. It was the first class of the session, so I was expecting hard. As usual, I was struck by the fact that people who barely know me remember my name, and my pilates instructor—well, not so much. Do I expect too much after a year plus? Obviously, yes. I expect by this afternoon that I will be disabled with core pain. Bring it on.

What else to tell? I've been completely obsessed with search results. I mean, I am configuring a search engine now, so it makes sense.

permalink March 8, 2006

March 6, 2006

the School of Respect

I share an office. With a moody person. I like her, but sometimes she swings from seeming very happy to see me to resenting me taking up space on earth. I'm not kidding myself, I'm certain I'm not easy to share anything with, but I try to be nice, respectful, warm. It's hard not to take these things personally.

Anyhow, I had a good weekend. I did a little decluttering, took some stuff out to the car, and worked my way through the book I was reading (Bulletproof Web Design by Dan Cederholm). We got a new floor lamp to replace the one I broke while vigorously cleaning before the winter beer tasting. I looked at cheap lawn furniture that won't mold in the 3 seasons of dampness here, unlike the used furniture that we have on the back porch now (oogh). We went out to the furthest reaches of the suburbs to hit the brewing supply store that is open there—the only one in the metro area that's open on Sundays. While we were there, we picked up some food at one of my favorite Mexican restaurants, that I never ever go to because it's so damn far away.

Oh, and I got the sock yarn and pattern that I had volunteered to sample knit for, and, umm, it's lace. Doesn't look like an easily memorizably pattern either. Dude, I am so screwed. I'm looking forward to seeing what they look like when they're knit, but I wish I didn't have a deadline.

I rode my bike in today though. It was great. I rode my bike, Pinky. I'll worry about getting home later, maybe just walk it up the hills. I need to keep the fun in biking, yes. I went and turned in my pile of overdue library books on the way in—so terribly convenient, bicycling right up to the book drop, and getting that feeling of having accomplished something already.

Am I the only bicyclist who stops for stop signs? I just don't get it...

permalink March 6, 2006 | Comments (3)

March 2, 2006

darkness, blinding light

I hate the fact that it seems I have to have realizations over and over and over before it dawns on me that action is needed. Not just thought.

It was snowing here just a few minutes ago. That was good.

But I'm having a cranky day. So, um, anyways.

I just got an email, sent to a group of female librarians, that cracked me up.

I had a blast last year with you all but I just love men.

I don't know why that cracks me up so much, but it does.

So, men that I love.
- my sweetie
- my Dad, RIP
- David Pogue (technology writer for NYT and O'Reilly)
- Matthew, who does the Woot! podcast

permalink March 2, 2006

March 1, 2006

two steps forward

Well, progress in some areas, at least.

I did the Salmon Street Death March yesterday by myself, in under an hour. That's 15-30 minutes quicker than it goes with my coworkers. It kicked my ass. But that's good. I hit my stride as I was going up the hill by the MAC Club, and my legs felt all strong and athletic, my muscles taut and rubberish (in a good way). Woot!

The financial austerity experiment has worked out. I actually put money into savings because it was left over in my checkbook. It's been a really long time since I've done that. Woot!

And, I went to pilates last night, which kicked my ass. It occurs to me that the ass-kicking might well be mostly related to my inshapedness (not much) and my fatness (significant), and that your mileage may vary. Anyways, I did it, it hurt, and I ache today. Pleasantly.

I am still manicly excited about the new search engine I'm configuring...

And then, one step back. On one of my knitting mailing lists, someone came forward asking for samples knitters. I didn't entirely know what that entailed, I figured maybe knitting swatches or knitting one sock or some such. Well, actually it's for a pair of socks. I immediately signed up. What was I thinking? Yeah, I need another deadline, another something to distract me from my extreme fear around career development. Good idea, VJ.

Anyways. I'm reminded of the AA story about the guy and the hole. At what point do I start seeing the hole before I fall in?

Today is beautiful. The sun is out, the sky is dappled with clouds. I scooted in this morning, thinking I needed to get to work as early as possible because I thought the search engine hadn't done its nightly crawl. I should have checked it this morning, because I got here, and it was all systems go. Oh well.

So I rode the scooter to the garage where I usually park it. I haven't been there in a while. And it was so cool. I park the scooter, and the woman working the booth waves excitedly. I love seeing her, she is sweet and nice and outgoing, and always happy to see me. And happy again. Maybe she's like this with everyone? Nah, don't think so. It was nice, made me grin ear to ear.

permalink March 1, 2006 | Comments (2)

February 28, 2006

preparation

I was actually ready early this morning! And thus, I am on top of the world.

Other than that, I have very little to tell. I've been diligent, and not terribly interesting. I worked through my lunch yesterday. That was a mistake. But I got a good 20 minute walk in on the way to work.

But hey. I love this story about a group of older people starting their own housing development (the Times derisively calls it a commune, natch).

permalink February 28, 2006 | Comments (2)

February 27, 2006

getting serious

I had a serious day on Friday, one where I was on task the whole while I was at work (and I was loving it). I was focused! And when I went to see career dude, I was still in my work mindset, still wanting to investigate and explore and research.

I brought up the podcasting idea because I thought he'd be really into it. He wasn't. He pointed out that while podcasting was cool, and most likely fun, that it would take time. Time away from this whole career idea.

I've thought about it all weekend. It really is all about focus and priority. What are my priorities? For the last while, it's been working on the guide and drinking beer. If I want to get back on track athletically, I can't just wait to get excited about it—I need to make it a priority, set some goals, get out there and work on it.

The same is true in the career track. The time I spend thinking about it is time that I could be actually working on it. And luck, as we know, favors the prepared. Right now I'm just hoping I'm lucky rather than building my luck the old fashioned way. Time to get to work.

Of course, the last couple weeks have all been about olympic knitting. I finished my project before the closing ceremonies, and celebrated by going to the farmer's market, buying the most expensive chicken I've ever bought, going on a scooter ride, checking out a new yarn store, and working on the guide. Such excitement.

So, my priorities for the shortterm:
- career
- exercise
- search engine crap
- guide

It's clear to me that giving something a little examination makes a huge difference. For example, the financial austerity thing. For the first time in recent memory, I have not dipped into savings this month. And honestly, I didn't feel like I was cutting back all that much, I was just aware of it. But it seems that just being aware of it is the whole thing.

So even though I've been throwing money at career dude, it's clear that I'm the one dragging my feet. There's lot of reasons for that, all having to do with my sucky outlook... but really.

permalink February 27, 2006 | Comments (1)

February 23, 2006

back... in the NY groove

Does anyone else know that song? KISS, my how I don't care them, but I love this song, or at least, that chorus. The chorus is running through my head, and I have to admit, it's one of those things that describes my feeling okay. And I am again.

Is anyone else using gmail? Initially I loved it, recently I've hated it, and now again, I am delighted by it. When they announced their whole chat thing, I was skeptical. But I love the custom messages.

I hadn't noticed them at first. And then, when I checked my mail (compulsively), there listed under Brit's alias was still pregnant. Later there was another message—how cool is that?

So, my custom message reads back in the NY groove. I know, boring....

I got up this morning, and I just wanted to ride my bike. First time in days, maybe weeks, where I've woken up and said, wow, it'd be great to cycle into work. Of course, this might have something to do with the Knitting Olympics, and the fact that I need every minute for the unending project.

I've thought about trying to combine the activities, but I just don't think it'll fly. While I used to be really good at riding with no hands, I have a feeling my balance and the front end of the townie would make that not such a good idea. I may do a test run this weekend, just cuz.

Important question:
So, for those of you familiar with my portland guide—would a podcast be a good idea? What should it cover? Are any of you podcasting?

permalink February 23, 2006

February 22, 2006

What would Jung say?

My favorite neighborhood building, that which was a tire center that is across from that which was a Wonder Bread plant, now no longer has a roof.

Big open buildings like that really capture my imagination. I think it's part of my obsession with rooved, contained outdoor spaces. I wonder what Jung would say.
...
There is not much to tell here. I've been doing a whole lot of knitting, of course, and squeezing in some decluttering. Especially in the office. I'm getting a different desk (which comes this afternoon!), so what a good excuse to go through everything, and fill the waste and recycling bins a couple times. I've been doing some computer file cleaning as well.

Though. It is an exciting day. We've gotten our new search appliance, so I've been busily adding thesaurus items. Even without a thesaurus, this is going to be such the better search engine than our previous ones (we've had Microsoft Index Server, and mnogosearch). But I have been so frustrated for so long with our search results that going through our error logs and finding things to add to the thesaurus has been a pleasure.

Though, I feel a bit uncertain about the whole thing. Everything is so up in the air right now at work that I'm not sure if I should be promoting things or ignoring them, and I'm fairly certain that doing either will get me in trouble. I doubt I'm going to get any direction, so, I'm just trying to think about the users.
...
With this morning's quote, it really made me realize that I need to get some exercise. It's such a vicious cycle: frustration with work, come home and camp in front of the TV and/or the computer, drink too much, wake up the next morning feeling worse, drag self to work... I need to break the cycle and take care of myself, but I'm feeling so drained in the evenings and the mornings that making that change is hard.

Where is my tenaciousness? I seem to have lost that resilence.

permalink February 22, 2006 | Comments (2)

February 21, 2006

into the wild

I finally was able to release Daphne back into the wild this morning. She was ready to go, and I admit, having a cat locked in your only bathroom can be entertaining for a couple days. But at some point, it wears thin, and it did.

My weekend was good. I did a buttload of knitting, Sweetie did some driving around so we could explore (and I could knit), and we had a couple of great meals that have reminded me of the potential of a charming dining experience at any price. Nice.

I did do a little decluttering, though nothing substantial, and I haven't set foot in the basement. I did take pictures though, and that was sobering. Maybe I'll post them when I hit the after stage? Or, maybe not.

Last night, we were sitting in the tavern a few feet away from our house (or so it seems), waiting for some of Sweetie's coworkers to show (they didn't). I had brought my laptop to work on an entree for the guide. A guy comes up, and asks if we're rating our beers—you know, if that's why the computer is here. We had a good laugh at that, chatted about it for awhile, and then decided we'd start a beer blog. Not there's anything there yet, and who knows when I'll be adding to it, but it's a nice excuse to drink some beer.
...

Megan ran a half and Richard a whole marathon Sunday at Freescale in beautiful Austin, TX. Damn, they both did so good! I was thinking about them Sunday.

permalink February 21, 2006

February 16, 2006

peel down

What a weird little life I find myself in these days. A friend took me out to a fancy dinner last night, which was okay, but didn't really live up to extensive hype that has surrounded this restaurant. I've heard repeatedly that the service is awful, and while ours could have been better, it wasn't bad. So at the end of the meal, the waitress asks me if I'm a reporter. Errrr.

This morning on the bus, a homeless guy gave up his seat for me, and another homeless guy sat near by. He opened a restaurant packet of saltines and ate the two crackers very slowly. Here I am, eating these fancy meals when I could use a (quite a) bit less, and he could probably use a series of good solid meals.
...
There is now a Team Portland blog, for Portland Knitting Olympics athletes. I'll try to limit my knitting chatter to that.
...
So I did the Salmon Street Death March this noon. It was really rather disconcerting. It was hard. It's clear to me that I need to get with the program and get back to work. And yes, I did knit and walk.

permalink February 16, 2006

February 15, 2006

update

I'm up to 25". My rewrite of the pattern says I just need to make it to 26". I can barely stand it! Arms!! I'm going to be knitting sleeves!
...
Last night's pilates was a fiasco. I guess the instructor thought that because we were there, we were underloved, and thus needed to be punished. Obviously, we weren't off being wined and dined for Valentines Day. Well hell! Our anniversary is at the end of the week, so Valentines Day has always been a minor event, and anyways, I got wined and dined at lunch.

I was having a hell of a time. New exercises, very hard, ack. I started thinking about how I wanted to be able to do this stuff, not the adaptations, not an incomplete set—I wanted to be able to do them. End of story. Which turned into me bashing myself about gaining weight and taking a few months off of pilates and now being back at square one.

Yes, it's true, I am back at square one. I do the poses, and I find it hard to both "activate" my core and do the pose, and activating my core tends to mean that I tense all my muscles and don't breathe. Which, you know, sucks. I'm ready to remember how to isolate those muscles, how to do two things at once, no, three: tighten the abs, do the pose, and breathe. It's possible, I've done it before.

And I have to remember too, that even when I was super serious about pilates, I still generally wasn't doing full sets, and I still was using adaptions frequently. And it was still really hard. It was always really hard.
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Coming home on the bus last night, I passed the Valentine's Mocktails on the Bridge party. A local bike org does this monthly Breakfasts on the Bridge event, usually the last Friday of the month, and it's this totally amazing thing. You're greated by friendly faces inviting you to have a cup of coffee (or tea) (in a porcelain cup!) and a snacky-baked good, and gasp, talk to people you don't know. It's unnerving and wonderful. And the mocktails appeared to be even more of a success. I see stuff like this and it gets me all squishy. The whole random-acts-of-bike-love vibe is in full force, and it makes me feel like I need to grow into deserving it.
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Oh! I want to declutter. I want to declutter! It's kinda driving me nuts!

I've thought about taking some pictures of some of the bad areas of the house. These would be my bad areas—while my Sweetie is a packrat, he's got nothing on me. I think about posting them here, and then I think, no, no way, no way could I do that. But it might be good for me to just take some pictures, so that when I get something done, I have this visual reminder of how bad it originally was.

Right now, my yarn is stored in a cabinet. Not in any orderly fashion, certainly— it's in bins and grocery bags and luggage. Finding something requires trekking across a small patch of brush junk, and then you invariably have to take everything out to find what you were looking for. Some of these yarns are so incredibly gorgeous, it's a total shame that they are hidden away. Of course, with my lot of thieving animals, they at least need to be out of reach. But not necessarily out of sight.

I was checking out Knitty's Amy's blog and she's posted a photo of her knitting storage area. Sigh! She obviously has her stash under control. And I obviously don't.

It's interesting how, in the end, your possessions own you. I dream about the garage in the New Pornographers' Use It video because it represents what I want to be, but also because I need a place to store my lawnmower, my bicycle, and my scooter. And Sweetie needs a place to store his brewing setup.

How much time do I spend working to support my need to store stuff??

People joke about making a "clean" start, about starting from nothing. The closest I've come is moving across country with one (tercel-sized) carload. Even so, I had a huge amount of crap stored at my parents that I had to later weed down to another carload. Within six months, I lost the majority of that second carload in a flood. But then I bought a house...

In Amy's blog, she's mentioned knowing Jane Siberry (Dude!), and recently she points to this article about Jane 's break with the past, or why she's selling and/or giving away most of her possessions. For her, it's the need to reconnect with her creative self that has necessitated her paring down.

"This is the best I can do to keep my music alive. I'm operating on trust. I don't know what's ahead, but I do know that I can take whatever comes.

"I feel in harmony with... something. It's what I've been looking for all my life. I can't wait for the second half to begin."

permalink February 15, 2006 | Comments (2)

February 14, 2006

happy valentines!

Okay! The Olympic shrug is now 17" long. Just 9 more inches and I can start the arms!

I'm still in a funk, not sure about what, not sure what to do. I know it's ridiculous, but there it is. Exercise, like pilates tonight, will certainly help.

I started reading a new blog yesterday. As usual, I got there through a circtious path. I'm on a mailing list for xtracycle enthusiasts, and one of the participants is a self-defined woman of faith. At some point, she pointed to her blog, Leading or Led. Part of the allure is my fascination with the Quaker faith, part is the fact that one of the ways she expresses her faith is through her clothing choices, and part is "giving up the siren call of Beauty for the Simplicity of Plain". I've been thinking about what Paula has written ever since.

Giving up consumerism. Making do with what you have. Making choices based on community. Getting there under your own power. This is stuff that is super-exciting to me, and I love to think about it. In practice, of course, it's harder. My past 14 or so days of financial austerity have been successful, but not without me reminding myself repeatedly that I have what I need—I just need to find it.

I want to keep paring down. I haven't been doing my decluttering because of my herculian olympic knitting attempts (!), but each time I pass through the second floor landing, I realize—it's gotta go, it's all gotta go. Each time I think about maybe getting a sewing machine, I remind myself that I need to make room for it, that it will need to have a home.

Over the weekend, I had the opportunity to receive an elliptical trainer. It was super cool. But I already have exercise equipment that I don't use that's taking up part of the dining room, and that was super cool too. When I use it, I really enjoy it. It's too bad I just don't use it that often. So I don't need another something to hang purses from.

permalink February 14, 2006 | Comments (2)

February 13, 2006

damn web sites

Well, it's grey and misty outside. I knew our little island of sunshine had to end sometime, but I'm still really disappointed that it has. Though the weather guy has predicted snow for the end of the week. We can only hope.

I'm halfway through the back of my shrug. My knitting now measures 13" x 16". It's incredible to me that I've accomplished so much, so fast, and this on reasonably small needles (US 8 / 5mm). The jet black is beautiful but a little hard on the eyes, truth be told.

This weekend was lovely. Saturday, I spent most of the day knitting, punctuated by a trip to my new favorite Mexican place for brunch, and getting groceries on the scooter. Sweetie bought and assumed a gas grill. Sunday, I did the race, then came home and hung out on the backporch with Sweetie and his beloved new obsession while he grilled chipotle-orange chicken. I made some corn spoon bread, and we had a massive meal of chicken, beans and rice, salad and spoon bread. Yum!

The race, eh. It was a 5K, and I hadn't slept so well the night before. I got down there, and everything was pretty disorganized—volunteers didn't know anything about where to pick up your bib, where the starting line was, etc. Usually, Mela is supercranky about this sort of disorganization, and I'm all excited and happy about racing. This time, I was cranky and she was happy.

Still, it's a good cause (fanconi anemia), and we had beautiful weather, so quit yer 'plainin', vj. I did the 5k in 47 minutes, not my best time, but still. The last mile I did a good sprint, and was very pleased with myself, and then Mela and I ate breakfast, which as always was the most delicious food I could ever remember eating.

Later in the day, I scootered up to Alberta Street to buy some fabric and check out the new yarn store there. The fabric store is small, but full of really beautiful materials, which explains I suppose how 2 yards of fabric, some accessories and some rick-rack cost me 30-someodd bucks. But damn, it's gorgeous material! (I got a yard of a brown Kaffe Fassett fabric, which if you look at the photo on their web site is the sixth in, and a yard of a hand-dyed aqua fabric. And a light lemon yellow chenille rickrack)

I really liked the owner, as well, who greeted me by complementing me on my Corazzo jacket (literally, she said, That's a beautiful Corazzo jacket you have on). Lo and behold, she's the Corazzo owner's ex. It's such a small town, and seemingly quite amiable as well. We chatted about my sewing class, and scooters, and it was the sort of pleasant genuine conversation that makes you want to go back.

I went into the yarn store, and even though it was closing time, the store was full of folks. I loved looking around but I never found the needles—not that I was looking very hard.

Later, we met up with the Texiles at a brewpub in the pearl. The tall tables in the bar area are elegant, but kinda hard to sit at for a couple beers. In spite of all of my misgivings of the remodel, it's an elegant space, but it didn't seem very relaxing. I guess that's probably not the aim, though. The prices weren't cheap, but they weren't crazy either as I had feared. The most annoying thing about the place though was the staff—everyone acted like they were your best friend.

We hurried over to the Guild to see the Devil and Daniel Johnston. My filmophile friend had loved it, and we were all looking forward to it. I had checked the Film Center web site on Friday for the time: 8pm, Sunday. So we get there, and, oh, there was a mistake... says the stoner guy out front. Us, and a half-dozen angry people were all like, there's a mistake? We checked the web site! And if you check the web site today, it still says Sunday, 8pm. Grrrr!

So we went to our new neighborhood place and had another beer. Damn, we were all disappointed.

permalink February 13, 2006

February 10, 2006

let the games begin!

Well, I hear tell that the Olympics Opening Ceremony has happened in Turin, so, the Knitting Olympics has begun too. I haven't yet cast on—it's the first thing on my list after this entry, and mailing a valentines' gift to my mum—but I'll be making the shrug part of Tubey in Brown Sheep's Handpaint Originals (70% Mohair, 30% Wool) in Onyx (or black, if you will). I've been wanting to make a shrug for a long time—time to fish or cut bait.

I've been trying to decide about some exercise component for the Olympics, but I'm not there yet. I think maybe a half hour of walking a day? That's nothing, I know, but I just need to have a goal.
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Last week, I had a couple of days where I felt, literally, exhausted. Like if I wasn't doing something, I would fall right asleep. And this happened again on Wednesday.

Maybe it was just riding the bike home. I rode in traffic until I got to the Broadway Bridge, which forces me to go fast and focus, but honestly, it's a bit much. Then the effort of getting up the bridge, and then down, and then up the little hill, just seemed to totally sap me. I got home, and boy, was I tired.

We had a lowkey evening, got to bed at a reasonable time, and Thursday morning, I get up and I'm feeling just like I did on Wednesday night, like I got no sleep at all. I got all ready to go to work, showered, dressed, dog out, and I just decided that I'd take a personal day.

Mind you, it's so gorgeous outside that I had been thinking I would take a personal day to do yard work. But I didn't feel up to it yesterday, and I spent most of the day on the couch. Blegh.

But in the evening, I went to my sewing class. I was all cranky when I came in, because it appeared to be this whole hipster thing and I was feeling decidely un-hipster. But in actuality, while they might have been hipsters, everyone was really nice, and I had a good time and learned a lot.

I heard the best tardy excuse too. One woman came in late: she said that she was driving down Cornell road when a giant evergreen fell down in front of her car. It happened so quickly that she couldn't stop, and so she just drove over the tree! Can you imagine?
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There have been two murders in the neighborhood in less than a week. One happened Saturday, about 4 blocks from the house. The other happened Wednesday night, and the murdered guy had been a regular up and down my street. He had quite a rep of playing the harmonica, and he used to hang out at Paul's house, before Paul moved away. My neighborhood has been quiet for so long, but strangely, things seem to be heating up. The dealers and prostitutes are all getting a quite a bit more aggressive.

permalink February 10, 2006 | Comments (4)

February 7, 2006

etc.

The last 24 hours - um, not so good. Came home to an awful smell and learned that we had a leak (and a giant smelly puddle) under the kitchen sink. This morning, I went to the dentist and had a panic attack in the chair.

I know, these are the sorts of posts that cause people to write comments about how I'm whiny and complaining. I know, I know.
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So, in the hopes of avoiding that fate, I present to you:

The Best Blog in the World!

rrrrrrrrrrrrrnnnnnnnnnnhhhh.blogspot.com

Though, when I checked it this morning, I realized it was the best blog in the world, but I was concerned because I could find no cat photos (and we know that it's not a blog without feline fotografia). But there's a new entry with not only cat photos, but domo-kun!
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This morning, while I was working on the guide, part of my mind was trying to figure out how to carry everything I need for the dayin one tiny purse. Cuz, really, what do I need? Wallet, checkbook, pen, camera? Yahuh. Oh, and my knitting. And my ip0d. And ground coffee. And my lunch.

It's a whole lot easier to travel light when you aren't trying to be frugal. And when you plan ahead.

Right now I'm all about putting things in order. Sorting the new blog entries into the static guide. Getting rid of erroneous and unnecessary things. Though when I look at the guide, or work, or my house, or my yard, there is so much to do that it's overwhelming. I'm just trying to remind myself to work on one thing at a time, don't overextend, and trust that even small moves are improvements. Baby steps. Work done incorrectly still blesses.

permalink February 7, 2006

February 3, 2006

this era of financial austerity

Most people start their resolutions in January. But I'm not like most people. Oh no. I start my resolutions after getting back from a trip.

I have two resolutions. Eating out less often, and a new age of financial austerity.

I've avoided balancing my checkbook for the last couple months, and I tell you, it was a huge mess. How can I be spending all this money? How is it possible?

The first obvious culprit has to be eating out, right? Because I do it all the time? Well, yes. Though, it's been interesting watching my thoughts looking for their beaten paths.

For example: I'm fidgeting at the bus stop and I notice that my nail polish is flaking. It's been flaking for days, more days that it was in good shape. I have nail polish remover and fresh polish at home. But my thoughts immediately run to buying a new bottle to take care of it once I get to work.

Or Sweetie mentions the D word, and so the next morning, I become obsessed with finding this salad recipe that I'm pretty sure I recycled in a purge a few weeks back. And sure enough, I have. And the library no longer has the book. Immediately, I think, I can go to Powell's and pick up a copy. Even though I probably could make the recipe from memory, I just want to have the reassurance of the recipe.

I have a problem and there has to be a purchase to take care of it, right? Right?

So it's been an interesting week. I did end up paying for the bus because I forgot my bus pass, and going out for an expensive lunch yesterday, but even so, I think I'm ahead of the game. And it's been interesting and maybe even fun to think about how I can solve my own problems without buying something.
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Cheesepuppet mentioned this book, Not Buying It: My Year Without Shopping, by Judith Levine, and joked about buying it. That was my first impulse, too. But I've now put it on hold at the library.
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I had this great dream a couple of nights ago. I dreamt I was over at Sara's house, and she rolled up a corner of a rug in her living room, and there was a trapdoor. We opened the trapdoor, and there was a full, normal, beautiful staircase going down to a beautiful guest bedroom. The room was in the basement, but you never would have known it—there was lots of blonde wood and windows, and it was really warm and lovely.

I saw some other friends over the expensive lunch, who exclaimed that Sara must have a secret!

Though this morning, I started thinking about this, and some of my other housing focused dreams, and thought that perhaps they were a metaphor for what I wanted to be and become. Exclusive, transparent, well-constructed, solid, modest, clean, straightforward, and useful. Some of these are contradictory: how can something be exclusive and transparent or modest? I'm not sure. Need to work on this.
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I feel like the last couple months have been a time of many breakthroughs. I've had a number of emotional realizations, and this week, I feel like I might actually be breaking through on the portland guide. First, there was this media event. And today, as I was feverishly adding entries to my upcoming.org, I noticed I had a new member in my guide group... and I checked, and it was the founder. Like, one of the two people who created upcoming.org. Yikes! But I decided that I may as well see this as something positive, because, um, what else can I do?

permalink February 3, 2006 | Comments (4)

January 26, 2006

a walk in the woods

This morning I went for a walk in the woods. Nice. The sun had just come up, it was crisp (around 30 degrees), and I decided to follow a trail through the woods that surround A's house. I didn't go far before seeing deer tracks and snake holes and coming up upon a house with chickens.

So I backtracked, and went the other way, and came upon a clearing. I got excited when I saw a buck at the edge of the field looking at me. I moved slowly towards it, wanting not to startle it, and I started to get suspicious when I got within 50 yards and it was still standing there. But I continued approaching... and it was a plastic target-practice buck. Sigh!!

A little further along, I met its associate, the plastic target-practice wild pig. I found an occasional arrow. Otherwise, it was just me walking, with the dog sometimes racing by me and chasing down something in the woods. It was nice to just have some time to move and observe and not talk, just listen.

permalink January 26, 2006 | Comments (2)

January 25, 2006

Sunshine

The sun has come out, and I feel like a whole new person. Yesterday, we drove around the countryside in the blinding sunlight, looking at the hills and buildings, and we stopped in a little town about 20 miles away which has the area's only yarn store. I picked up yarn for two projects for A., neither of which she knows about: a pair of felted slippers and a fancy scarf. I don't know if I'm going to finish the second, but I'm hopeful.

J.'s socks are something else. I went to unravel the top of the sock to get some yarn to make the patch, and I hadn't counted on them being semi-felted. I know he likes the socks and has worn them a lot. Live and learn. Now that I have also ruined the top of them, I'm going to need to come up with a good plan, quick.

The guys found a brewpub while I was yarning, and couldn't wait to bring me back there. The proprietor was sweet and showed us his whole set-up while Sweetie asked questions. That was the highlight. But we ended up having a couple beers there, cornered by a friendly drunk, and not so far away from someone smoking. It was making me fairly nuts—I have no tolerance for drunks, and I was worried about coming back to the house smelling of smoke—A. has some serious lung problems and this just didn't seem to be a good idea. I was becoming crankier and crankier, as is my wont.

We finally got out of there, and made the drive home. A little bit of time alone, and I was all better. I need to do some walking!

permalink January 25, 2006

January 23, 2006

White County

Different day, different location, still, it rains! Did I bring this with me? Maybe. It's just funny.

Sweetie and I are hanging with family and trying to adjust to small town life. Well, that makes it sound like we're in the thick of it, and really, we're just hanging at the house or driving around. It's been nice to have a total change of scenery.

I finally finished Devil in the Details by Jennifer Traig on the way here. So today I bought a couple books in case I have downtime: Confessions of an Economic Hit Man, and In Praise of Slowness: Challenging the Cult of Speed.

It's not like I don't have other things to do: finish the red stripey socks, mend the socks I made for J. maybe 4 or 5 years ago, and darn the moth hole I just found in my new Goodwill sweater, but realistically, I have to go to a yarn store to do most of that, and that continues to be deferred. I'd like to make something for A. before I go as well, but of course, that also requires yarn and needles. That's my only real complaint, so life is pretty damn good. I'm just hoping for a little less liquid sunshine so I can do some walking.

permalink January 23, 2006 | Comments (2)

January 19, 2006

Singing as a call for attention?

It's probably going to be pretty quiet here for the next week or so. I've been caught up in the flurry of pre-trip activity, and have been really on a treadmill as far as getting things done.

One image to leave you with. Every blog eventually is about cats, and I know that mine is more often than not. Of the three indoor cats, they each have their own personality. Nigella is a slut. Follette is shy and quiet—until you get in the kitchen. And Natasha, Natasha...

She's a strange one, Natasha. When she likes someone, she'll sit in front of them and stare at them. Not a hard stare, but the dreamy, blinky, squinty stare of a very happy cat. She prefers not to be pet, but she will tolerate it. She likes to be in the room with the humans, but not on the humans.

Yesterday, I was washing dishes, and I was alone in the house, so I had the stereo going. I was singing along, merrily scrubbing things, when I felt a tap on my leg. I looked down and there was Natasha, standing on her hind legs, one front leg supporting her on my leg, while the other leg tapped me, like, are you okay?. She was clearly concerned.

I mentioned this to Sweetie, and he's said that the same thing happens to him. She gets very concerned when he sings.
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Last night, we went out to get some dinner, and the place next door to the restaurant was an office, with a blind over 3/4s of the door. Sweetie noticed a cat inside, and called me back. Immediately upon croaching before the door, we had an audience of 7 cats: 6 white and tortoiseshell, and one sylvester. He opened the mail slot and put his hand in, and all of them that could reach stuck their legs out the door. So damn adorable.

permalink January 19, 2006 | Comments (3)

January 17, 2006

ripping it out

This whole four day week thing is a bitch. I mean, don't get me wrong, I love the three day weekend. It's the coming to work on Tuesday, which feels like Monday with a hangover, even if you didn't drink anything the night before.

Oh my gosh, though, what a great weekend. Saturday, we cleaned like fiends. By Saturday afternoon, the house fairly well shined. Then we had a couple people over for a winter beer tasting.

I'm always certain that people find my house a sty, and this is particularly painful given that my mother is so incredibly, insanely clean. And while the house could have been cleaner—I missed dusting around some geegaws on the lintel, and there was a little bit of spilled coffee on the backsplash—I think it was cleaner than it's been in years. No visible fluids of dust, as some call dustbunnies. No huge cobwebs. All neat and tidy. Not like Architectural Digest tidy, but, hey, we live here tidy. I have to admit, I found the cleaning very satisfying.

Also satisfying: I did a bit of cooking. Not a lot, but I put out bowls of munchies, and made both hummus and pea dip. I used to make hummus weekly, I love the stuff, and mine is particularly good. And the pea dip, it's always good to have an excuse to make the pea dip.

I love having people over, and people seemed to enjoy themselves. Yay! And what's more, my sweetie, who frequently isn't so crazy about having folks over, had a wonderful time. Which is a good incentive for me to try to keep up the cleaning.
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Also on the agenda this weekend: going through my (piles of) pants and making some new designations. Do I have pants that are appropriate for travel? Sufficiently comfortable? Attractive enough to wear near relatives and inlaws? Are they hemmed? I've been on a hemming binge lately, hemming up a couple sets of curtains, and now I'm considering pants! Crazy!

I found the next knitting project that I'd like to do. Knit boots. This is the sort of thing that makes me sad that I have given so many shoes to G8dwill that could now be the base of my knitted boots, those theoretical boots. As it is, I'm sure I can find a pair of shoes that will work for them, and then start knitting. How crazy! I did some swatching, so I'm ready. All I need are the shoes.

In the but VJ, you already have 5 projects going category are those damn scooter gloves. Oh, I am loathe to rip them out, really, I am. I got a copy of Beverly Royce's Notes on Double Knitting, and the book just assumes that you can do your own math. I can do my own math, but I tell ya, it's not pleasure reading. Still. I need to get these gloves right, and I will.

permalink January 17, 2006 | Comments (3)

January 12, 2006

fact-finding

Well, as expected, every inch of my body hurts today. I feel like I got hit by a mac truck. Parts of my body that pilates theoretically wouldn't come in contact with hurt. And then there's the headache. And the pukeyness. Oh damn it, have I caught yet another passing bug?

But my sternum and my belly (or core, if you prefer, my powerhouse...hahaha! powerhouse!) hurt like hell.

Yesterday was a fact-finding mission. Over lunch, there was this strange yellow orb in the sky every now and again, and I, like the rest of Portland, ran outside to try to absorb it. I took a walk through our Urban Renewal Zone (it doesn't have a name, which irritates me. Sorry, Urban Renewal Zone does not count as a name!), up to PSU, got some lunch, checked out the student-run everything-groovy cafe, and generally succeeded in being inside everytime there was a major downpour. Pretty damn good.

Last night was fun. We went to investigate a newish place on Alberta, and ended up window shopping. We spotted some Queen Bee satchels in a shop, and just as Sweetie said, look at that one, the lights went off inside the shop. We were laughing so hard that we were still laughing once the shop keeper came out. We stopped at a new pet store, which doesn't carry our pet food but would special order it for us. We stopped at the brew pub, which is finally actually brewing. Dude! We talked about going into CloseKnit or Office, but we showed resounding restraint, and just didn't.

We ended up at Zaytoon, where I've been maybe three times before. I've never seen the place even a quarter full, and that makes me nervous. They have a nice burger, and generally, a good lentil soup, and now they have this crazy happy hour deal where appetizers are a buck off, and entrees $2 off. Considering that everything is fairly cheap to begin with, well, it's insane. The two of us, with two beers, an app, and two entrees, paid $18.50 without tip. Even if Tacqueria Don Pancho has its beer license yet (and it may), I don't think we could get out of there that cheaply. I really want Zaytoon to survive, so please go there.

Tonight, another case of pilates. Dear g-d.

My cow-orker re-turned me on to woot! the other day. Very silly, very very silly. What is this woot, you say? Woot sells one electronics-ish product a day. Starting at midnight Dallas time, running until they sell out, or midnight the following night. Wikipedia, which knows everything, describes their marketing style:

Typically, product descriptions will mock the product, the customer, or Woot itself.

I have to say, the sassy, smartass, irreverent and self-depreciating writing style is something I want to master for the portland guide. Check out the FAQ or the Wikipedia entry on woot. Here's part of their FAQ:

If the item doesn't work, find out what you're doing wrong. Yes, we know you think the item is bad, but it's probably your fault.

Anyways, I was drawn in, not surprisingly, by pictures of kittens. The entry for the product is here, unfortunately, with the product picture so small that you can't see the photoshopped in kittens. The tag line on the item:

So it's come to this. Yes, we're resorting to kittens.

The product in question was a Westinghouse SlicerToaster Two-Pack. Sigh!!

permalink January 12, 2006 | Comments (3)

January 11, 2006

more rain

Depending on what you read, we've either had 23 or 24 days straight of rain. Not that it's rained 24/7, but there's been rain every day. People are starting to make jokes about arks. It's not funny. There's standing water everywhere, and I fear going down into the basement because I probably have some puddles. Ugh.

I'm trying to remember the percentage, but I believe David Larkin, the author of Rains All the Time claims that we usually only get rain one day out of three. Sure, those other two days are grey and overcast, but they're dry. Overcast sounds pretty good right now.

I know I'm not the only one wondering if the Willamette will flood again. In February 1996, volunteers sandbagged the seawall, and the lower part of downtown was shut down. I remember moving everything we could carry to the second floor, and everything else we put on top of tables. And then our building was shut-down, the electricity turned off, everybody out.

The next day, when the river crested, and we all had the day off, we went down to the Hawthorne Bridge where we watched entire porches/decks/docks go down the river. One had a refrigerator. Another had a clothes line (but no clothes).
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Jill and Paula did the Salmon Street Death March without me, yesterday. It was pouring. As usual, I ended up working through my lunch, and getting no exercise at all. I ended up working late too, so I was on a dead run to get to pilates.

Pilates was great. It was like old home day—a bunch of the old-timers were there. The instructor was incredibly gentle on us considering it was the first class, though we did lose one person after 15 minutes. It didn't feel as bad as I expected it to feel, and this morning I am achey, but not sore. I suspect that will come this afternoon.

Sweetie also had an early evening obligation, so we met afterwards for BBQ. It felt so adult to be getting to a restaurant at 7:30.

I think my dog has suddenly become a teenager. He is acting out something fierce. Or maybe he's cabin feverish from 23 days of straight rain? Anyhow, we came home to a shredded roll of toilet paper all over the living room. Adorable. I put the groceries down on the kitchen floor and went to get the door for Sweetie, to see Echo coming out of the kitchen with my ham sandwich (pre-pilates snack, which had been in the grocery bag) in his mouth, which he immediately put in his dog bed in the living room. Then he tried to bury it. Damn thief! Whippets...

permalink January 11, 2006 | Comments (5)

January 10, 2006

shaking things up

We had such a windstorm last night. It knocked over the old part of the backyard fence. Luckily, it knocked it into our yard, where it is now leaning against a tree and our flowering tobacco raised bed. It's not a big surprise, as pieces of it have been coming off in other windstorms, but it cracked me up to see this morning.

Well, I'm back on the wagon. Tonight I start pilates again. I'm excited and nervous. I'm hoping it will be dry this afternoon so I can ride the bicycle back home.

The article about the guy who does 100 miles a week is really inspiring. This morning I woke up wanting to walk to work rain or shine. Oh, not only that, but also run some errands along the way! But as usual, I fell into cleaning and decluttering, and that opportunity skated past unnoticed.

Right now, my desire to pare down is really foremost in my mind. I generated a bag and a half of paper recycling last night and this morning, and filled the kitchen & bathroom wastecans. I took a couple bags out to the car. And as I think about it, I really need to do more in the bathroom.

Last night, I went through our bathroom built-in. It's clumsy & giant, and so it's been sort-of a catch-all for anything that might be vaguely bathroom related. And, of course, it was totally full, and not in any sort of useful way at all. I basically did a rough clean on it, pulling out all the empty things like boxes and bottles and travel containers. But it's insane all the crap we, or should I say I (because really, I am the culprit here) have.

When I wear makeup, I wear eyeliner, mascara, and lipstick. (Note the word when—it's still a special occasion sort of thing) So why then did I have 5 compacts with pressed powder, a shaker with loose face powder, and maybe 6 or 7 foundations, 10 eyeshadows, and 7 eyeliner pencils? I put all the non-daily makeup into a bag, which I'll sort through later (though I wish that were right now!). Likewise, there were about three thousand of those little dramatically different moisturizers that you get with the cl1nque special gifts, and again as many hotel shampoos and conditioners.

Most throw things out!!!

permalink January 10, 2006 | Comments (4)

January 7, 2006

Wuhoo! Movement!

I feel like I am on this wave of momentum. It's incredibly pleasurable!

Yesterday, I applied for a job. I know, it sounds kinda dumb, but really, it's huge. I haven't been able to apply for anything, mostly because I've felt like my current work is so ugh, and any new work would be more of the same, except with less days off and less retirement contribution. But in working with career dude, I've kinda resuscitated this job and made it much more enjoyable, as well as getting me in touch with my incredible anger. I've been shooting off my mouth, and no one seems to hate me or want to bring me down a notch. I feel like I've been becoming more me.

I mean, I think this has been a theme for the last few months. I am becoming more me. I am holding back less, and in some ways, the noose of pleasing others has been loosened. I feel like I felt about a year after breaking up with my ex, rediscovering what I loved doing, except I'm still in a relationship, and still pretty pleased about it.

By 9 am this morning (a Saturday), I had showered, started laundry, changed some lightbulbs, cleaned off a couple lamp shades, and vacuumed the ceiling. I was loving it! I suddenly think I was able to feel the sort of satisfaction that my mom feels with cleaning—except, she, of course, would not allow a ceiling to wait eleven and a half years before vacuuming it.

permalink January 7, 2006 | Comments (3)

January 6, 2006

doing it vs doing it right

Well, I am so ready for this week to be over. My insane deadline project got done, and got kudos. Essentially, my deadline kept creeping towards me (close of business, 3pm, 1:30pm, 12:30pm, 11am), and I was triaging, grabbing data, not checking it, and chucking it together. While I'm pleased that I was able to get it together, it just sucks to have had to do it so haphazardly and with so much pressure.

So after 11am, and I turned the damn thing in, I tried to decompress a bit and figure out what the next project was, but I was shaky and my heart was racing. I felt okay when I was eating lunch at the Red Coach (20 minutes, start to finish, and I was eating slow), but then I went out for a stroll and was still feeling like the world was pressing down on me. I figured walking would cure it, walking, it seems, cures about everything for me except rain, but no.

I walked for about a half hour. I wish I had had more time!
...
This morning's discussion with career guy included some talk about tough love. It seems that it is time for me to get my act together and get it on the road. Ack. While parts of me have been responding to the whole nurture and grow environment, it appears that that is not enough to make me actually revise my resume.
...
I have big plans for the weekend. I have the Y2K6 on Sunday, a 10K race in Forest Grove. We are supposed to have showers then, oh boy. I just need to get the walk in, then I get pancakes. Really, they serve pancakes after the race. That isn't always the best part, but it is a damn fine incentive.

I am hoping to get a couple good chunks of time to clean and declutter. I have to admit, I am much more interested in the decluttering, but the cleaning needs to happen as well. I am lovingly thinking about filling my car with stuff to go to charity. Here's hoping!!

I heard something I really liked yesterday, about getting rid of the old so that the new can come into your life. I like that idea.

permalink January 6, 2006

January 5, 2006

My strange dreams

Outside there is a very lovely and dramatic sunrise.

It seems that the rains are letting up for a few days. My bike is still in the garage downstairs, waiting for me to ride it home. Maybe tonight.

Work is draining me. It's been a rollercoaster. Need. More. Exercise. To try to work some in, I've been trying to drink a lot of water (so I have to at least walk to the washroom), and I've been trying to run a flight of stairs or so every couple of hours. Just to get the blood moving. Still, we haven't got official word that we're not going parttime next Monday, and I got assigned a task last night that there is no way in hell I'll be able to get done today. Interesting times.

But I had a crazy dream the other night. I dreamt that someone wronged me, and I sought justice and prevaled. Then, I was somehow in hiding, but was running a marathon as a heroic figure. Yeah, go figure that one out. I'm sure there's a crystal clear explanation for my neuroses somehow contained in that phrase! So yes, I was running this marathon—weird, huh? Okay, it gets weirder, of course. The marathon crosses the border from Austria into another country. (I'm guessing Switzerland, but it really wasn't ever evident in the dream. But I'm guessing Switzerland because I asked someone in French and then German about something [and those are two of the four official languages of der Schweiz]). And, you are expected to stay the night at the border.

So, the marathon starts midafternoon, or maybe evening. We run through the jungle (yes, I asked someone as I didn't remember Austria having jungle. Global warming, sheesh!), and get to the town where everyone must spend the night. I go to a movie (huh?), and then the next morning, I start running again, and am guided by a deaf or blind bicyclist (what does that mean?). I woke up just before the end, though it was clear that I was going to finish and be triumphant. In deference to real life, however, I was very slow.

Last night's dream was not so interesting. I dreamt I was studying volcanic systems, and that there was a huge volcanic system in the midwest. Like, centered in Chicago. I dreamt there was a road trip to see the mountains, calderas, etc. Lots of map-making. Oh, and I fell madly in love with a cat at library school. I just adored this cat. What the hell?

permalink January 5, 2006 | Comments (3)

January 3, 2006

beginning, again

So, we did go on the Death March. It was raining, and I was soaked through before we made it to the park. Waterproof jacket my ass! So even though I was running horribly late, I went to the gym, took a hot shower, and sat in the sauna for awhile. I weighed myself—now that's a bummer. Nothing like getting soaked to the skin to make a person irritated.

Here I am, trying to be good. I bicycled in this morning, which was lovely and beautiful and altogether splendid. It "felt like 36" degrees this morning, and I was just in a tank, a dri-fit shirt, and my favorite oversized wool sweater. I was chilly but not in a bad way. Just in a, well, I am chilly way. Not in a I am freezing!! way. Not like I was, um, soaked to the bloody skin! Ahem.

I signed up for the Tuesday-Thursday pilates class. I told Jill and she laughed—we complained all the time about that class, but I need to do it again. I need to have that discipline.

I had big plans of trying to get up and walk around between tasks this afternoon, or run the stairs, but I'm in stocking feet hoping that someday my socks will dry.

permalink January 3, 2006 | Comments (1)

December 30, 2005

Happy New Year!

Wow, so what the hell happened to 2005? That went by quick!

I am so underwhelmed by this cold/flu/crud that I have. I'm wussed out fulltime, and I really want to remove my sinuses. Would that help? Please? So I really haven't been doing anything interesting, other than obsessing about knitting and octopi and wishing I could be biking.

Oh, and I signed up for a race, a 10K, next weekend. Just to get warmed up. They serve pancakes afterwards, which is always a draw.

In spite of getting a layoff notice in November, I'm still employed, though it looks like I might be going part-time in a couple weeks. That's always exciting.

This morning, I decided I'd devote 15 minutes to housecleaning. An hour later, I was still at it, and had to pull myself away. I have two goals: one, that if folks drop in, that our house will looked lived-in, but not like a overpopulated paper sanctuary; and two, that we can bring Daphne, my beloved outdoor cat, inside (she eats fabric. And plastic. Loves towels and clothing.)

My goals, briefly and not concrete:
1. Get the house under control, and keep it under control
2. Get the yard under control, and keep it under control
3. Get in a good bike ride or walk every week

Happy New Year!

permalink December 30, 2005 | Comments (3)

December 29, 2005

holiday letters

I've been home sick for the last couple days, so I've had some time to think about things. My mail has been full of holiday letters—you know the sort, the optimistic retelling of the last year. This last one I got, from someone in my library school cohort, made me think that I really need to create one of my own.

And that's kinda hard. What have I accomplished this year?

I mean, I've made great strides in the last couple months, but that sort of wisdom-gaining isn't something that you can put in an xmas letter. Or it's not one that I feel comfortable writing.

I feel like this year, in some ways, has been a failure. I've quit walking, and I haven't lost any more weight. Looking at last year's New Years Resolutions, well, it's scary. Or is it?

Here they are:

# Weight-loss: Aim for a consistent, conservative weight-loss of a pound and a half a week (6# per month): 72# by 2006!

>>> Nope, didn't happen. I did get down to a size 20, and on good days, I'm still there. (It should be noted, however, that the week between xmas and new years is made up of not good days)

# Walking: I'd like to drop 2 minutes a mile. I'd like to do a PR with a 12 minute mile.

>>> I didn't get anywheres near that. But I did better my time in the half-marathon (by 25 minutes!) and marathon (by 8 minutes). My best chip time was 15:07 compared to 14:32 in 2004.

# Other exercise: I'd like to work on balance, shape and strength. I need to work on strengthening the balance of my right side. I'd like to walk or bike to work three days a week. I'd like to weight-lift twice a week. I'd like to do two group classes a week. I'd like to do a decent bike ride once a month. I'm planning on some sort of workout 6 days a week.

>>> Mixed. I was pretty good about pilates through the spring. I probably walked to or from work less than 5 times last year. But I did lots of bicycling. Gym, eh, not so much.

# Professional Development

>>> Going to see the career dude has been a big wakeup call about what I'm passionate about, and what I'm good at. I've gained confidence, and excitement about learning

# Home: I'm tired of living in a place that I feel embarrassed to have drop-in guests at. I will use a limited version of flylady to try to control clutter and filth in my home. Pretty straightforward: pick up after myself. Don't let clutter happen, and when it does, attack quickly.

>>> This has been back and forth, but I feel like I am beginning to make a dent, finally.

It's been an interesting year. I'm feeling so much better lately. I just need to get back into it.

permalink December 29, 2005 | Comments (2)

December 27, 2005

a little plumbing

After a handful of days with less rain rather than more, it appears we're back on schedule, and it's coming down.

This really was a lovely weekend. Our xmas day was so lovely, full of eating and cooking and cleaning. On Boxing Day, like the rest of Portland, we called the plumber so we could run the kitchen sink and dishwasher again.

Of course, everyone was on holiday rates. And holiday schedules. In spite of biannual visits by one rooter company or another, the one we called insisted that all of our kitchen plumbing was out of code, and needed to be replaced before anything could be rooted. The drain technician gave us a $900 estimate, and then Sweetie overheard the plumber on the cellphone saying that his truck was dead. So we begged off making an appointment with said plumber, since it was clear that he wouldn't be coming today.

So we started calling other companies. Sigh. I was a little traumatized. Replacing plumbing. Of course, it's out of code, this house was sold for back taxes 20 years ago. This was a house that was built cheaply a hundred years ago, a house built on a thousand shortcuts. And to make this a little worse, I know that Dad had redid some of the kitchen plumbing (you think it's outta code now? You should have seen it when I bought the place!). But while I am mid-freakout, Sweetie is making the calls, and arranges for another rooter company to come by.

They came by. The plumber (they sent a plumber!) mentioned that the plumbing was out of code, and at some point should be replaced. However, the problem was this join here, and he could replace that and snake it the line for $150, and we should be all set. And so it was. He was speedy, nice, and aware that our escape artists needed to stay out of the basement.

And so it was that our kitchen is functional again. The lesson learned is this:
- Mom wasn't kidding about the garbage disposer - you gotta run the cold water for about a minute after you turn it off
- Don't put starch down the drain. No pasta, rice, potato peels, etc. Remember library paste?
- You can't assume that the plumbing work wasn't done by some dead beloved relative of your client, so maybe you shouldn't be harsh.
- If something is going to fail, it's when it's been stressed. Like when you spend multiple days doing dishes, and a day cooking enough for an army.

Once I got over the trauma of home maintenance, I got back into decluttering and dunging things out. Which was great. Can't wait to get back to it!

permalink December 27, 2005 | Comments (1)

December 25, 2005

merry xmas!

Merry Christmas to those of you who celebrate it!

So far, this has been my best xmas ever. Friday and xmas eve was spent cleaning and decluttering. I've filled the trash can, filled the back seat of the car (for stuff to go to charity) and filled maybe five bags of paper recycling. And haven't made a dent. But it has been tremendously satisfying.

Yesterday I was just so excited. I don't recall ever being so excited about xmas. But hey! I got some cool things for Sweetie, and for my mom, which I couldn't wait for them to open. And more importantly, I decided that I was going to have a good time. Damn it! And I did.

This is significant, as xmas has always been a hard time for me. It seems to be all about family histronics, and my intense, profound desire/revulsion for more connection. Maybe being consciously aware of what's going on is helping.

Today, we have a dim sum in a few hours, and then Sweetie and I will make a pile of food, and have a couple of close friends over to eat it. I'm excited, I love having people over.

Lots of stuff has been percolating over the last couple days. Good stuff. I'm feeling optimistic!

permalink December 25, 2005 | Comments (3)

December 22, 2005

Housecleaning. Housecleaning. Housecleaning.

There is so much to do. It feels so overwhelming. Yet, I keep feeling like I'm hitting bottom, like it can't get any worse. And then it does.

I wore my favorite handknit hat yesterday. It's based on the Knitty pattern, Coronet and I knit it with two strands of Brown Sheep's Handpaint Originals in Cranberry (a solid) and Strawberry Patch (a red-purple varigated). I wore it yesterday and felt proud as a peacock.

This morning, I go looking for it because I want to wear it again, and poof, it's gone. I have a place for hats and gloves, a central location, but I didn't put it there because it was wet. Now, what the hell happened to it? Did the dog steal it? Or did I just... misplace it?

My frustration was intensified when I had to go turn off Sweetie's lamp, and had to move two things to get to it. In moving his rolling table, a bunch fell off onto the floor. After I turned off the lamp, I tripped over his shoe and almost went flying into the TV.

I'm sure my mood isn't helped by having a hangover, from drinking too much too quickly at a party because I got nervous. Or that I was in 5 hours worth of meetings yesterday at work. Or that I've spent, umm, too much time on a googlemap, only to find out that it's only working in Firefox and not at all in Internet Exploder.

But I'm trying to keep my eyes on the end of the tunnel. I am taking tomorrow off, to clean house and grocery shop. It will be a four-day weekend. Hopefully, xmas eve won't be too traumatic, and xmas day will be spent with close friends. I am really pleased about what I got for Sweetie this year, and hopefully he'll like it. Better yet, only one gift hasn't arrived.

permalink December 22, 2005 | Comments (2)

December 20, 2005

It's raining

I've just had that sinking feeling.

I was in high spirits this morning. I got some stuff done at home, and I came into work and did some stuff, and I rode the bus in with an old favorite driver. Look at me go! And then I thought about xmas day, and the fact that I had told some folks I was making dinner... and the fact that Sweetie and I haven't talked about it since. And the fact that we moved all of our junk out of the living room... into the dining room.

So I very tip-toedly wrote the email, saying, hey, I'll take responsibility for everything, I know it's a hassle and last-minute and all that, and I'll bend over backwards, etc., etc. And maybe an hour later, he calls, and says it's okay, though it's unspoken that he's seeing this as a ton of work and quite possibly a big drag.

And so any mania I might have felt, any momentum, it's gone.

And then I have the sinking feeling. The thought that, um, would anyone come over on December 25th anyways? Maybe I've just asked for an unnecessary favor, maybe I've freaked us both out over nothing.
...
But hey, what are the holidays but a brilliant time to freak out about nothing? Or everything?
...
I'm making my mom's cat a holiday collar. Yep, I'm aware that it won't get there in time, and yes, I'm also aware of the silliness of knitting a cat collar out of expensive chenille, but the idea got laid in my head and hatched, and there it is. The rule in my family is that xmas presents have to be there by xmas—which I suppose is reasonable—so why do I continue knitting this collar when it isn't going to make it there? Oh sigh.

I am just aching to start something new. I'm tired of the basketweave dish towel, the thought of ripping out the scooter gloves is heartbreaking, and then there's the collar. Boring!

permalink December 20, 2005

December 19, 2005

not snowed in

I don't know what's worse. That it snowed? Or that the snow is gone?

Well, yes, I do know what's worse, and that's that the snow is gone. I had really hoped for a snow day to continue with my manic decluttering/cleaning/rearranging.

The weather guy had said freezing rain, and that's all I had my hopes set for. Freezing rain on Sunday night. But as I was getting ready to run downtown yesterday, I noticed that we were getting sleet, as the rain was making a thumping noise as it hit the house. Almost immediately, I got a call from a cow-orker, who was hoping for a snow day. And then I looked outside, and the ground was white. Wuhoo!

Sweetie came home from hanging with one of his brewing friends, and we agreed that we were probably going to be snowed in for days and that we should run to the store for snacks and beer. Driving to the store was not too big of a deal. An hour, a full shopping cart, and, well, let's just leave it at that, we were ready for anything. Driving back home was a little more exciting, and a little more time-consuming, with slippery roads and people driving like they had never seen snow before. And maybe they hadn't.

We get everything inside, everything necessary to do a lot of baking, make all manner of tacos and comfort food. and we put it all away, and then settle onto the couch (new! just like adults!!) looking out the window at the goosedown flakes coming from the sky.

I call my mother, who is in the great white north, and has some 8" on the ground now, and she, of course, is unimpressed. If I like snow so much, why don't I move home?

But that's the thing. I like snow so much because we never have it in Portland, and generally, because the city shuts down when we get some. It's like the whole city goes on holiday. (Well, everyone but essential services, and trimet drivers—no holiday for them). The news preempts all tv programming, with Storm Team coverage, and some poor rookie reporter is stuck in Troutdale, being practically blown over by the gorge winds and the vicious, vicious snow.

permalink December 19, 2005 | Comments (2)

December 14, 2005

All wound up!

photo by Amy Goodman

Since Sweetie is sick, I picked up chinese food last night. I've been on this, umm, quest, to check out little divey chinese places, and there is always this enduring hope that one of these places is going to have great food. Sadly, sometimes these places have good items, but...

So last night, I went to the neighborhood chinese fast food chain. It was much cheaper than any of our neighborhood places, but part of that has to be that there are less crunchy things like crab puffs and pot stickers, and, I think we just plain got less food. Everything we got was a little sweet, but otherwise, it was on par with what we get from our neighborhood joints. How thoroughly disappointing.

...
Today is the last day of the work food drive. Our local food bank is very very low, and so this morning, when I should have been getting ready for work, I was going through our cupboards. I ended up assembling 2 full grocery bags and then it was obvious that I wasn't going to be taking the bus. So, I took the scooter.

Getting two full grocery bags into the scooter was no big deal at all. I put about 3/4 of a bag under the seat, and about 1/2 a bag into the little box on back, and the other partial bags, I captured with a motorcycle bungy net and strapped down to the seat.

I hadn't ridden the scoot since Friday, so I was all giddy. Other than hitting a patch of ice, it was big fun.

So, how do you keep warm on a scoot when it's 28 degrees outside? Well, um, part of you has to be resigned to be cold. I should have worn long underwear under my dress pants, as well as knee high wool socks and my boots. But I still would have been cold.

My top half was closer to toasty though. I wore my Corazzo hoodie. On my hands, I had my special wrist-length fingerless gloves* under a pair of driving gloves with thinsulate. On my head and neck, I wore my silver scooter scarf over a turtle fur balaclava**.

The special wrist-length fingerless gloves* are the best purchase I've ever made for $1.57. I saw them at G8dwill, and I thought of Jonathan.

At the slug velo fall colors ride, he was wearing a cool pair of striped arm-warmers... which had started out being socks with a couple strategic holes cut in them. So, because I'm obsessed with wool, and knee-high socks, I look at the socks at g8dwill, and there are toe socks. Dude! For $1.57!

I got them home, cut the tips off the big toes, slit the little toes, eh voila!—the cheapest fastest special wrist-length fingerless gloves EVAR!. And while they are 100% acrylic or nylon or some such, they are make a huge difference in how my arms feel. I can't wait to get my wool gloves done, now!

*made from toe socks
** which isn't a balaclava at all, because a balaclava (aka ski mask) covers the nose and mouth, but still

permalink December 14, 2005 | Comments (2)

December 13, 2005

This is when we need Chinese food delivery

Well, all good things, like 4 day weekends, must come to an end. I'm having a hard time really getting going this morning.

Yesterday was lovely. A nice combination of leisure, cleaning and decluttering, going to that republican stronghold, T@rget, more cleaning, decluttering and decorating, reading about knitting, eating some lovely food, drinking some lovely beer. In retrospect, the only way it could have been better was if I had drank a bit less.

And so, imagine my distress when I wake up at 4:30 in the morning and the bed is shaking. No, not an earthquake. It's my beloved, having the worst, most violent, case of shivers I have ever seen. Poor guy. This is the third time he has been feverish this fall, and I wasn't sure if I should make him some hot lemonade or take him to the ER.

I made him some hot tea, turned up the heat, got him downstairs where we actually have heat (!), and bundled him up. As expected, he was soon up close and personal with Echo, and acting as a perch for several cats. I really wanted to stay home and dote on him.

permalink December 13, 2005 | Comments (1)

December 12, 2005

4-day weekend

It's been a great weekend. Four beautiful days.

Friday was a meeting with career guy. Afterwards, I settled into my new habit of a cup of Joe and an egg sandwich and writing about the stuff that came up. I made a list of the stuff I wanted to do this weekend: wool sweater, RE1, mirador, the wide shoe store, yarn stores, the fat girl consignment place, g8dwill.

As you know, I'm a bit fixated on wool right now. I think I'm as cold as I usually am in winter, what with my drafty house and my drafty office, and my intense desire to get around on two wheels. I went through all my sweaters, and I have a lot of them. I have exactly one that has any wool content at all: and it's my three-sizes-too-big cashmere sweater (which I love, love, love). It's moth-eaten. And I wear it almost every day around the house, on rides, etc. It's embarrassing, it's so huge and holey. I could patch it, I think about patching it, but that wouldn't help the fact that it's so huge.

There's a g8dwill on the way home, so I stop there. I used to love thrifting, I used to do a lot of it, but it's just one of those things that's fallen away in the last few years. I spent quite a while there, looking for wool sweaters. I came away with a pair of new toe socks, three wool sweaters, several work tops, and several sweaters for Echo. It was great!

I then went home, did some cleaning, and then had a great long nap.

In the evening, we went to a friend's restaurant, and learned she had split from her husband in the couple of months that we hadn't been in. Scary stuff. After that, we went to RE1 and spent my dividend—yay, wool socks and turtle fur!

Saturday, we went to a smokey dive for breakfast: too smokey in fact. And then to mirador, which was too incensey. Both of our heads were swimming. We went downtown to do a factfinding mission around the corner of 5th & Couch—checked out Backspace, this absolutely cool, cool coffeehouse-hangout-gaming-internet thingee. Oh, and pool. Next door is the goofy japanese kitsch store where we bought cool little tinpos. And then next door to that is the retro video and pinball arcade. Too much fun!

That evening was dinner at our favorite place with friends. (Yayyyy!!!!!)

Yesterday, Sweetie and I did a great journey to the west suburbs! We went to a yarn shop in the middle of nowhere (the last time I was there, there was nothing but the run-down Mad Greek Deli and a run-down tavern, and now there's one of the "village" centers and the run-down Mad Greek and tavern), then to a furniture outlet store, and then to the larger version of the store we had decided to buy from.

It's funny. At this point we really had a vision for the new couch. It couldn't be leather because the cats might destroy it (and for a dozen other political, aesthetic, etc reasons). It couldn't be this, and it couldn't be that. And once you argue out all these options, walking through the store and making a selection is pretty simple.

So we sat on a bunch of couches, including the one that we had previously chosen and if it could have been delivered last week, we would have in our living room already. And then we saw The Couch. The Topaz. An apartment couch, so shorter. In dark grey microfiber. And it will be delivered on Saturday. Saturday! I am such an adult!!

I spent the rest of the day occassionally blurting, I bought a couch.

Today? Breakfast soon. Some walking, hopefully. Gotta dig in and do some cleaning. Some knitting. Some working on the guide. Just some general, I decide what I'm doing. It's great!

permalink December 12, 2005 | Comments (1)

Letting go

Last night, I dreamt I was moving out of my dorm room. You know, my dorm room for library school, the thing I did online. I had so much crap in that room it was incredible. It was me, my dad, my mom, my sweetie, and others, going through all my stuff.

My father would look at me, exasperated, and say, Vicki, why do you have all this crap? How many sets of dishes do you need?

And all through the dream, we were going through stuff. Friends from school would drop by, and would be amazed at how well I did in school in spite of all the stuff I had stuffed in my dorm room.

They worked by my side, all day long. All my stuff, exposed to the air.

I woke up and all I wanted to do was clean. I filled a grocery bad with paper, a filing box with records (probably about 200), a giant plastic bag with clothes.

My dad doesn't make appearances in dreams all that often, so I expect this is important. I need to pare down. I've wanted to. He's willing to help.

permalink December 12, 2005

December 7, 2005

Everything I know (about myself) I know through my knitting.

The new Knitty is out. I'm so excited. One of Jess Hutch's little creatures is on the cover, and there are other fun things to knit. An article called Scarf Psychology talked about how you approach your knitting says a lot about you. Well, d'oh!

This is the way it works. I get an idea in my head. Or I am checking out some knitting patterns, and so I decide to make one. So let's assume that I decide to follow a pattern. But I can't. I just can't. The pattern calls for linen, but I want to make it out of kitchen cotton. So I knit the gauge (a 4" square piece) to figure out how many stitches, I need. Brilliant.

Now that's an example of something that actually works out well. I compare the swatch I have to the swatch in the pattern and do the math to bring it down (or up) proportionally. That's no big shakes, but I'm always surprised that everyone doesn't do that.

But let's look at an example of something that isn't working as well. I decide to make fingerless elbow-length gloves from the finger down. But I've misplaced my pattern for gloves from the finger down*, and my pattern is actually for full gloves, not fingerless ones, so I just make it up as I go. But, umm, they don't look right, and then I'm stuck. So, I haven't even finished the first one and I'm already thinking that once I get a second pair made, I'm gonna rip these ones up so I can remake them and do it right this time.

So. I can't conform. My planning is lousy. And with something like this where I'm really winging it, the imperfections really bug me a lot—I want to go back and do it again perfectly.

I've been thinking (note: not actually doing) about actually writing patterns. Yeah, that'd make me plan! That'd show me!
...
Anyways, I think it's clear that developing my planning skills would be A Good Thing ^TM, as there is a lot of my life that I'd just like to rip out.

Part of me doesn't trust my own knowledge. Part of me wants to compulsively check things over and over.

It would be easy to say that I'm lazy and undisciplined, though that isn't always true. I can be quite disciplined and quite hardworking, and I'd argue that those characteristics are true much more of the time for me that the previous. But still, I don't show the forethought that might be helpful in somethings. Perhaps related to not being able to see myself in 5 years?

* With most things, you can from the top or from the bottom. With sweaters, you generally knit from the top. With socks, from the top. With gloves, from the wrist. There are published exceptions to the first two, but I'm still waiting to see a published pattern for gloves from the fingertips down. I took a class and learned how to make them about three million years ago, and the written directions the instructor gave were fantastic... if only I could find them.

permalink December 7, 2005 | Comments (3)

December 6, 2005

Ah, sunshine!

This screenshot was taken by olandario, though the desktop wallpaper is available via Pixelgirl Presents.
More domokun at the flickr domokun slideshow

The sun is actually out this morning! Wuhoo!
...
I feel... so... productive. It's crazy.

Last night, we decided on the couch. I think. We slept on it last night, figuratively, and while there is part of me that just wants to get it right now, it's looking like we'll have to wait til next week to get that particular one. Which makes me crazy. I want a new couch NOW, not next week.

I'm trying to calm down. Trying.
...
Did I mention that we bought xmas lights on Saturday? We went to this little store in the neighborhood which is unflashy and unprofessional and completely a rabbit warren, but appears to have every type of lightbulb (and xmas light string) manufactured. I was completely overwhelmed by the selection. We got a couple strings of LED lights, which use next to no energy at all, and put them on the front porch. They are so incredibly cheerful!

And as you might expect, they are very brightly colored, but they don't cast a lot of light. Last year you could sit on the porch and read by the conventional outside xmas lights. I think we'll move those to the back porch -- they would be a nice accent, and much less frequently used. Maybe.

I also bought a couple strings of battery operated lights. Unfortunately, I don't have any D batteries. But I am excited about, at some point, adding them to the bike. Like maybe tonight so the bike will be ready for the Bike Craft Faire.
...
I am so wound up this morning. I don't know what it's about. I did a load of dishes and laundry before heading to work, I bicycled :), which was just too good for words, and I'ver been so productive at work. Gosh, it blows me away home much I love bicycling in to work. I just wish I loved bicycling home, and how it's dark so early...
...
Another scooterist in town posted this "recipe"/"pattern" for a bottle cap wreath. I also am under the delusion that I'd actually tile something with bottle caps, and, um, let's face facts—it ain't gonna happen. But a festive wreath—that sounds like fun.

permalink December 6, 2005

December 5, 2005

furniture

I walked about a mile this morning. I know, it's nothing! But I was kinda excited about it anyways. I was waiting for the bus, and I am a lousy waiter, very impatient, so I started walking. I made it from my place all the way to Alberta. If I had headed in the opposite direction, I probably would have been able to make it to the MAX train, and I would have gotten into work in the same amount of time.

That, sadly, is the whole of exercise for the last couple of days. I have been wanting, wanting, wanting to get a new couch for what seems like a year. The current couch is maybe 3 years old, and we bought it resale. Unlike the previous couch, we did not find any drug paraphenalia in it Anyways, current couch is looking pretty bad, the cats have been using it as a scratching post, and my Sweetie hasn't been able to sit comfortably on it forever and three weeks.

Mind you, I have never bought new furniture. My house is post-college thrift store, made up of garage sale finds and gifts from loved ones. I'm almost 43 and I have never bought furniture. Does that make me some sort of pinko?

Still, whenever I mention that we should go pick out a new couch, or that I'm going to go pick out a new couch, Sweetie has managed to dissuade me (we go through with cutting his hair too). Saturday, we were out to breakfast, reading the paper, and there was a circular for a furniture store... and so we both decided that this was important and that we should do it.

So Saturday night, we went out to said furniture store. They had a single couch that we liked... that would be available in a month. Okay.

Sunday morning, we rose early to go out to the suburbs, to the new "mall". That was a big mistake. Though I did kinda enjoy walking through the store going, oh, now that is so wrong, oh, now look it at that—who thought that was a good idea?. We drove back into town and went to a snooty furniture designer that I like, and they had a great couch that we both loved—for about a thousand more than we wanted to spend.

There is so much to love there, though. Audacious couches, fun patterns, slipcovers. And all of the chairs are on coasters, with a little handle on the back. I doubt they come that way when you buy them, but we were both very amused.

My head was about spinning at that point. I had brought some knitting with me, the beginnings of a cotton basketweave-patterned washcloth, which helped me stay focused. One more store. One more store.

Luckily, the last store was a jackpot. We found a number of couches that would work for us. Now we just have to choice.

At this point, we repair to the brewpub for a pint and some food, and talk about what we'd do with the old couch. And how I want to go home and measure everything and move furniture, and Sweetie, just wants to buy a couch. Then we start talking about the TV cabinet that we both hate, and we fight, nicely, about where the TV should go, and then I have the great idea of the day: getting a bakers rack for the TV and putting it on coasters. So we can move the thing around.

Anyways. Sweetie got the bakers rack stuff and put it together last night. It looks great, and some much less visually bloblike than our former armoire, which is collecting cats. I got the worst case of heartburn in recent memory, very close to take me to the ER, and then once that was finally resolved, one of the joints of my big toe decided it didn't like anything at all. Ugh.

It's fine today. I'm being careful. I feel kinda crappy. But this too shall pass.

permalink December 5, 2005 | Comments (1)

December 1, 2005

A breakthrough!

We were promised snow! Where the hell is our snow????

In spite of our lack of snow, in spite of the fact that I have to go to work and it's raining, in spite, I am happy. It is not a buddhist happiness, though that seems like a good thing ^TM.

Yesterday was a rollercoaster. My supervisor retired, and we had a party that had almost all of us in tears. It's a party so I'm happy! And I'm actually current with my work momentarily! And I'm making my cow-orkers blush! But I don't like change, etc., etc., etc.

But I had a couple small, subtle, triumphs at work. And then I dreamt that I was in this really good situation, and everything was great, and then someone dishonored me in an unrespectful way. I thought about running away. I thought about punching him. Or avoiding him. But I went up and confronted him. It wasn't comfortable at all, but afterwards, I realized that I had had this crossroads where I could have thrown away all the good I had earned because, well, someone crossed me—or I could continue on my path.

I woke up right afterwards, feeling that unsettled ‘did I dream that?’ feeling, and then I realized: I stood up for myself. In a dream. Dude!

And the day has just fallen in line. I'm about a block from the bus stop when I see the bus go by, but then another came in about 4 minutes. And I got a seat on the bus. And it appears that something broke loose, because no one at work seems terribly concerned about work. Products are due on Monday. But no one seems terribly concerned. I think we all hit the ends of our ropes, went to the party, actually sat and talked with our coworkers for a couple of hours, and, poof, tension gone. I'm sure it will be back, but, that's fine.

It's odd and lovely to feel so positive about things.

permalink December 1, 2005

November 30, 2005

history

I had a click this morning. Not that it's probably a terribly useful realization, but...

Sara is visiting her parents and talks about the stuff she does there that she doesn't do at home, and she asked also what her readers do. I wrote a response which filled me with sad longing.

I remember loving visiting my dad's parents. The expectations there were different than on my mom's side of the family. My grandparents seemed very fond of me, but they didn't expect me to just hang out, speaking when spoken to. I absolutely loved going through their stuff.

Part of it was the exoticness of it. I maybe saw them once a year, and at most, for a couple hours. They lived in the country (even when they lived in town)—they had hunting dogs which lived in kennels, because dogs don't come in the house. Their house was full of old things that they loved.

I remember being fascinated by the perfume that my grandma kept on her bedroom dresser—it had some name that would seem very cheesy now, but it was exotic and wonderful. I loved poking around in the garage at all the tools and bibs and bobs of my grandpa's domain. And then there was the basement!

The basement had lost of stuff. Old magazines, photos, a guest bed, and old trunks. I loved this stuff. It was clear that they had come on a journey: from France to Quebec, from Quebec to Michigan. Everything seemed imbued with meaning.

It's only recently that I've realized that some of my mom's stuff is also imbued with meaning. Her style is very middle-america clean and clear and spare. It probably helps that she is one person in a house that is almost twice the size of mine, and with much much more storage, that she doesn't have a job, and that she feels compelled to clean.

Anyways, I wonder if that explains some of my clutter, as stuff reflecting me and my darling. Not that everything is imbued with meaning—I just have a clutter problem. Yeah, okay. So that's that.

The other thing that came out of my thinking about Sara's post is that I don't agitate very hard for what I'd like to do when I'm at Mom's. It's easier, though not more enjoyable, certainly, to go with her flow. What I'd like to do: more exercise (ice skating, walking, cycling [could we rent bikes?]), more riding around in the car around town and through the little towns nearby, more history. Like, wouldn't it be interesting to see significant place's in Mom's life? I know, well, several of them.

I tried to get her mother talking about her past before she died. I thought she wouldn't like it, but of course she did. To my great sadness, I didn't take notes or tape our conversations, and now that knowledge is lost.

Suddenly, it is quite clear to me that I want and need to make those kinds of connections to the past and present, to root me, and that I haven't done that with family. Since I really only have Mom left, I should snap to it. I feel frustrated with my relationship with Mom, I love her, but I don't feel like it's a real relationship. But it occurs to me that I am not being genuine with her.

This is hard. I was taught to keep my mouth shut and I tend to, with the grand and huge exception of here. And even here is heavily censored.
...
You know the movie Office Space? I love the premise of it, of a guy hyponotized and thereafter, he has to tell the truth. Well, okay, the premise is a little off from that (but not a lot, really). But I wonder what my life was like if I had less control over my tongue?
...
Monday I was so good. Yesterday, I was all about the rain. Today I still ache—gosh, who knew I had all those stomach muscles, and that they could get so pissed off. I'm gonna try to sneak in some exercise, though I feel like everything in my life is conspiring against it.

permalink November 30, 2005 | Comments (3)

November 29, 2005

can neurosis power xmas lights?

Not surprisingly, I hurt today. I'm very aware of my belly and waist, and of my glutes, and my hipflexors. And my nose, which I biffed (but good) getting the bicycle out of the truck last night.

I'm not quite feeling so hysterical today. I did some reading (ah, internet, you cruel mistress!), and while I am very special for being female and middleaged and having Barrett's disease, the chances of it turning cancerous are close to nil. Like, less than 1%. And, the symptom that has really been eating me (so to speak) has been a hoarse chronic cough after heartburn episodes... which I guess goes hand in hand with the disease.

So while I think it's a good idea to fly right and eat right and try not to chip any more large sections out of my esophagus, some of this I just have to let go of.

Still, I gotta wonder: if I wasn't so stressed out, would I have hearburn/reflux/GERD/Barrett's and high blood pressure? And do I, with my special neurotic wiring, ever have any hopes of not being stressed out?
...
But enough of my downer. I admit this is not an original idea, I heard about it from another scooterist.

But: battery powered christmas lights! Think of the possibilities! Festooning your bike, making it almost like it has the Down Low Glow. Okay, so it's not really as cool as the Down Low Glow, but it is cheaper and readily available at a big box store (not-so) near you. And scooters! Damn! That'd be way better than putting bunny ears on your helmet (not that there's anything wrong with that).

Portlanders: Sunlan Lighting on Mississippi carries them! (and she's open til 5:30 today!)

permalink November 29, 2005 | Comments (2)

November 28, 2005

mortality

Well, I went to the gym today, just to tell my body what's what. Here's a taste of what's coming, dearheart. You might as well just get used to it.

You might be wondering what scared me straight. I mean, really. Or not. I got a wakeup call this weekend.

By and large, the weekend was very good. Thanksgiving was full of food and hanging out and total relaxation, Friday and Saturday full of doing work-work in my jammies while the animals came up begging for attention, and yesterday, a trip to the mall, because I had forgotten how much I hated that.

At some point, I started thinking about my homework for mister career dude, which is seeing myself at work in 5 years. So what would that look like? What would I be doing? Who would I be working with? Hell if I know. I have a hard time seeing til the end of next week.

Part of this is just a sense of futility. Why bother looking for a new job when it'll just be more of the same, and probably a paycut? I'll still be stressed out; I'll still be self-medicating with food or drink or exercise. I think about one cow-orker who quit a few years back because he couldn't stand it any longer... and ended up back here. That could be me. On a treadmill.

I get caught in this sort of thinking and I might as well just get out the ice cream. It's hopeless.

So I start reading some blogs, cuz that'll make me feel better, right? And I read about someone who has one of the same stress illnesses that I have, and he developed cancer and died. Horribly.

Now I'm an awful hypochondriac as well as quite the drama queen, I'll give you. But I have the precursor to the cancer that this guy died from—I got diagnosed with it a couple years back.

A lot of the time, I am rather blase about whether I continue to exist in some form on the earth, but I admit, I hate the thought of pain. Dying is fine as long as there isn't pain involved (isn't this the story of my life?!) So what would it take for me to love my life, and guard it?

I don't have an answer to that. But pain, damn.

So, baby steps. I rode my bike to work today, made myself go slow (which is to say: really, really slow). I made myself stop for every stop sign. Yeah, so what if a car isn't there to see me stop? So what that it takes a huge burst of energy to come away from a stop? So what? It's not like I'm getting too much exercise. It's not like I'm too butch. Get over it and do it. It's not painful, it's just unpleasant.

And the ride in was great. It's seriously cold today, and the office, and the Sweetie, are all abuzz with hopeful talk of snow. There were patches of ice on the roads. I got downtown, and I felt cold, and sweaty, and alive.

I went to pilates at lunch, and felt like I had lost my fool mind. What was I thinking? So I did some of that, did some x-country ski machine, some treadmill, some weights. And when I got my burrito at lunch, I did not get the super hot sauce that I'm addicted to.

This is small stuff, I know. But I gotta start somewhere, and some time.

permalink November 28, 2005 | Comments (4)

November 27, 2005

trapped

Last night, I dreamt I was supposed to shoot at a particular boat/vessel/thingee, and I did so, and then, I got captured by the people of this boat/vessel/thingee. In typical vj-raised-catholic fashion, no voices were raised, and everyone seemed friendly--sorta. And I was totally afraid. We go inside into a bar, and I am implanted with something, and told I will be a carrier of the next pandemic. Not only that, but I'm supposed to move some giant tables.

We part ways and I manage to move one table but not the next. I go investigate the other table, which is really giant, and hard-wired to the ground. I get back to the room, this weird funky motel room, and soon afterwards, the whole group of nasty people come in, threatening and being nasty. They all have weird unpleasant awful weapons, but some of them (the people) are very nice.

At some point I get outside, and I think, I can run away. So I start running, but just as quickly I realize that there is no way I am going to get away, and that trying is only going to make the situation worse. Much worse.

Feeling trapped is such a theme for me. I make no move because I'm afraid that any movement will only make it worse. How irrational is that?

permalink November 27, 2005 | Comments (1)

November 23, 2005

20 (ish) things

from Tszuj

20 Songs (I love off my ip0d, quickly... okay, so I can't count)

1. Dil Di Doya - Paban Daas Baul and Sam Mills


2. Hey Suess! - 3Ds


3. Fotografia - Juanes with Nelly Furtado


4. Stacked Crooked - New Pornographers


5. Pablo and Andrea - Yo La Tengo


6. Young Gifted and Black! - Bob and Marcia


7. Divine Hammer - the Breeders


8. Sera Entre Tu y Yo - Paulina Rubio


9. Forgotten Favorite - Velocity Girl


10. Baby I can't Please You - Sam Phillips


11. Hoover Dam - Sugar


12. Cody, Cody - Flying Burrito Brothers


13. 49 Percent - Royksopp


14. Signal in the Sky (Let's Go!) - Apples in Stereo


15. Gira - Vanessinha & Alessandra


16. My Love's Strong - Graham Parker


17. 22 No - F_ck


18. Casino Queen - Wilco


19. Little Baby - Donna Regina


20. Braided Hair - Speech & Neneh Cherry


21. 99 Problems - Jay-Z + DJ Dangermouse


22. These are the Fables - New Pornographers


23. Matador - Los Fabulosos Cadillacs


24. Jesus - Page France


25. Sickness - the Decemberists (covering the Donner Party)


26. Like, I Use to Like - Barr


27. Broken Ship - Immaculate Machines


28. Birthday Cake - Cibo Matto


29. The Question is How Fast - Superchunk


30. Here we kum - Molotov


31. Chariot - Page France


32. I Don't Want to Know - the Donnas


33. Take My Time - Junior Senior


34. Spiralling Shape - They Might Be Giants

20 Questions

1. What's for breakfast?
   
   Coffee and a chocolate chip cookie. I usually have eggs and real or fake sausage instead of the cookie, but I was lazy this AM.


2. Do you read a newspaper daily?
   
   If the Oregonian is in the coffee shop, I'll read it. Otherwise, no.


3. What do you do when you can't sleep?
   
   Read.


4. Say a word that sums up your mood.
   
   Happy feet! Oh, that's two. Excited.


5. Do you remember your dreams?
   
   Generally.


6. Name something from your dream last night.
   
   I don't remember last nights dream.


7. Name a food that describes you.
   
   Pizza: spicy, crispy & cheesy!


8. Today you are wearing:
   
   walking shoes (Brooks), camel-colored jeans, a black leather belt, and a grey wool hoodie over a pink printed t-shirt over a black long underwear top (it's always freezing at work. And home.).


9. What's in your pockets?
   
   A hankerchief


10. Did you sing in the shower today?
    
    I usually do, but not today.


11. What's the last song you heard?
    Dil Di Doya by Paban Daas Baul and Sam Mills off of Global Transmissions


12. Looking forward to the holidays?
    
    I'm looking forward to cooking and having some time that I don't have to come into the office (and I love the winter ales), but I really dislike xmas (especially the commercialization and pressure)


13. Where do you want to be this instant?
    
    On my bike, riding around my neighborhood. Or knitting.


14. What's for lunch?
    
    Probably a sausage from Good Dog, Bad Dog.


15. What's something you would like to do soon?
    
    Start a new, better, job.


16. Reading anything now? What is it?
    
    Mostly magazines. Metropolis, ReadyMade, Dwell, Fast Company. Oh, and Jess Hutch's Unusual Toys for You to Knit and Enjoy. But I'm hoping to read some of The experts' guide to 100 things everyone should know how to do, Devil in the details : scenes from an obsessive girlhood, and Ambient Findability this weekend.


17. What's for dinner?
    
    Hopefully pizza at Apizza Scholls!


18. A favorite part of the day is:
    Riding my bike. A couple miles into a long walk. Snuggling with Sweetie. Falling into my work and losing track of time. Getting home from work and being greeted by Sweetie, the dog and all the cats.


19. Are you happy?
    
    Right now, yes.


20. Will your friends do this meme?
    
    Please let me know if you do.

permalink November 23, 2005 | Comments (3)

November 21, 2005

fiasco

Sometimes I just wonder if I am bringing my own black cloud with me, and that I am the force that is ruining things. Sometimes.

While there were parts of the weekend that were fun, let's just say the the majority of it was a fiasco. And not my fault! The things I wanted and needed to get done, like buying out all the dairy products in the tri-county area, and doing a huge amount of work-work, were not to be.

The weekend was very cold. One thing I learned is that I need some more cold weather scooter gear.

Wearing a buff under my helmet as a balaclava helped keep my head and face warm, but not as well as wool would have. My groovy reflective silver scooter scarf: not terribly warm. My scooter hoodie is very warm, if I remember to zip the pit vents. But cold air still pours up the sleeves. And my dorky is0toner driving gloves are okay for short distances, not okay for longer ones. My legs: frozen. Even with wearing long underwear under jeans. Though my feet were warm in smartw8l socks and short clogboots.

After a long fiascolike ride through the wilds of Clark County, Washington, I was really happy to go into the new neighborhood yarn store and imagine all the warm woolen things I could make. The error of my ways has been revealed. Yeah, all those funky fuzzy shiny non-wools are fun, but wool, damn: it stretches, it warms, and some of them even don't itch. It's the original sports fabric.

I'd love to figure out the psychology of stores that you love to visit. I mean, of course, it's got to have items you like looking at. But, why are some yarn shops so appealing, and some others, with the same stock, so underwhelming? All I know is that I really liked this new yarn store. The owner was friendly and enthusiastic, the stock was beautiful, and there were chairs and a couch just begging to be sat upon. The place was the opposite of spare, but even full of people, I didn't feel claustrophobic.
...
I had planned that I'd ride the bicycle in today. Then, I went outside and saw that there wasn't even a block's visibility, and there was ice on the ground. I still need to figure out what to wear as well so I'm not freezing the whole way.

permalink November 21, 2005 | Comments (3)

November 18, 2005

more psychobabble

The last couple days have been a whirlwind. I met with El Career Guy yesterday and talked mostly about selling myself, and then in therapy we talked about why I'm always trying to get people to like me and not asking myself if I like the person, situation, job, etc. Interesting stuff. I feel like I'm on the edge of a volcano, and that I'm about to come on to something huge. Though I know that realizations don't usually work that way.

And so I'm just kinda bracing myself for change, feeling a little afraid that I'm going to have to slog through some uck to get to something good. But in some ways, I'm already in the swamp, trying to avoid wrestling with the alligators.

In spite of my apprehension, everything is apparently great. Last night Sweetie and I indulged in my new favorite thing (Hot Lips pepperoni pizza with habanero salsa), and then went to a lecture at PSU from Gordon Price. Long ago, and far away, I read Alan Thein Durning's This Place on Earth: Home and the Practice of Permanence, which talked about Gordon Price's Vancouver, BC—a place where urban planning has created a very exciting city with a declining dependence on the automobile. His lecture did not disappoint.

And one of the goals of late has been actually getting myself moving in the morning. Well, not moving moving, but at least moving. This morning, I did a little housework, and got myself into work early. Hurrah!

permalink November 18, 2005 | Comments (3)

November 17, 2005

Nice day for a... knit wedding

There is just something so wistful and joyous here. A knitted wedding. With knitted just- about- everything. Though strangely enough, they are in Britain, and they're drinking Rolling Rock?! Anyways, check out this adorable shrug... That and a little knitted domo-kun, and I might be all set.

permalink November 17, 2005 | Comments (3)

November 16, 2005

I know it's wrong to want to steal your neighbor's dog

I was feeling all pleased with myself this morning. I was showered, scented, lipsticked and clothed; my satchel was packed, my shoes were on. All I needed to do was take the dog outside.

So I walk out the back door, with Echo, my cup of coffee and a scoop of cat food for Daphne. Daphne pops out of her little house made from a milkcrate lined with towels and a plastic garbage bag sitting over a hot water bottle, and so even though it's 35 degrees, she's all warm. And even though she seems warm and happy and robust outside, I think again about how I'd like to have her be an indoor cat. And how I'd have to make sure that all fabric, all towels, all clothes would be inaccessible to her, so she couldn't eat them. Is that even possible?

I imagine a house with no fabric. That would mean no towels on the kitchen table, and no clothes on the chair. No quilt on the couch that the dog can't figure out how to get under. No curtains. No open laundry basket. I want to pare down my life but this seems to be a bit much.

While I'm having this reverie, Echo is running around the backyard through the wet grass, and Daphne alternates eating cat food, and coming up for some attention. And there is this high pitched whining, crying really, coming from over there. From the butterfly bush.

So I go over, and huddled under the butterfly bush is Zoe, the pitbull from next door (background here and here). She's so ugly she's adorable, and she is so upset. I try to convince her to come over and see me, but she won't or maybe she can't. Poor thing.

Ever since Zoe got lost, my neighbors have kept her on a line which stretches from our fence to Theresa's, the neighbor on the other side. Surprise, surprise, Zoe doesn't like being kept on a line, so she destroys anything she can get in contact with: dog beds, bits of styrofoam, etc. And, she's dug a hole under our fence. It seems she likes to hang out under the butterfly bush... maybe just because that's as far as the line will let her go.

So I walk through the gate and to the neighbor's side of the fence. Zoe's line is wrapped several time around the fence post, so, no wonder that she can't get loose. She is wiggling frantically with monster pitbull force, so happy to see me, as I try to unbolt her from the line while holding onto her collar, pull the tangled line out of my yard and from around my fence post, and reattach her. She rewards me by jumping up on me several times, marking me with her muddy paws. Thanks Zoe.

I walk away and she begins crying again.

Why do my neighbors have a dog? Why? I'm guessing because they moved into this "rough" neighborhood and maybe had some stuff stolen, and so they thought they needed protection. So they have this dog that never gets any exercise, and let's face facts, pit bulls are a handful if they don't get enough energy exercise, and they keep it outside on a line. A dog with no real fur. That dog was out all night.

Sweetie has volunteered to help them build a dog house. We've both talked to them about the fact that it's not cool to leave a dog on a line without supervision, etc, etc. I'm tempted to call animal control, but I don't know if it's illegal to leave a dog outside at night. I'm guessing that probably it's fairly low on their priorities...
...
A cow-orker asked me yesterday how my training for Freescale was coming. Yeah. Huh, huh. I gotta get walking again. And then last night, we're sitting in our favorite new neighborhood place, laptops open, and I read this from another bike commuter:

Experience suggests I'll put on about 2 lb a month from not riding (losing muscle and gaining fat for a double whammy), and that's not a safe choice either.

And this from a guy. (And I mention gender only because men have an easier time maintaining weight than women). Yikes.

permalink November 16, 2005 | Comments (4)

November 15, 2005

seeing Ira Glass

On Sunday night, i got really lucky. Mela took me to a lecture at Reed College, only open to the Reedie community: Ira Glass, of This American Life, with his talk Lies, Sissies, and Fiascoes: Notes on Making a New Kind of Radio.

I was excited about it. I was expecting to enjoy it. I was willing to tolerate uncomfortable chairs and being too close to the people sitting next to me. But there was part of me that was feeling a little blase about it.

I'm assuming you're familiar with This American Life, though perhaps I shouldn't make that assumption. It's an hour long show that runs on public radio stations which is concerned with first-person storytelling. The stories or reporting may be about anything at all, but they tend to have an immediacy that is rare to find in professional media. They are professional, they know how to use their mics and recorders, but the amazing thing is that they just let people talk. And so you immediately empathize with the woman in New Orleans who ran home to get a pack of cigarettes, and ended up stuck at the Superdome.

But the energy in the auditorium, uncomfortable chairs or not, was palpable. The college kids are so very young, so very cute, so very serious in that Reedie way, so wacky. And even those of us with mortgages and day jobs were a bit, um, starstruck.

A student introduced him. "He's my hero! He's revolutionary!", she gushed, each phrase ending with an emphatic exclamation point. And then the lights went down. Like, completely down. Like, pitch black.

I'm sitting there with my goofy scooter glove/wrister warmer that I'm knitting, and thinking, hell, how am I supposed to knit in complete darkness? And the voice, the voice pours into the room, so familiar, so intimate.

I'd like to tell you what he talked about, but I honestly don't remember. I was captivated from the first minute to the last, but I got home, and Sweetie asked about it, and I'm like, ummm? What did he talk about?

He swears a lot, which I like. He talks like my friends. He speaks really in this immediate way, like he's talking to his friends. Us. Like he really likes us. I remember he asked if any of us were familiar with the topic sentence, and a bunch of us raise our hands, and then he asks, in the same tone, how many of us were stoned, and then, "you are under my power: you must answer my questions!", afterwards, collapsing into giggles.

And so we really liked him.

He talked about how doing a radio show, telling a story, is like giving a good sermon. He talked about the mechanics of what makes a good story, or a good sermon, work. Loving creative work is why you should be doing creative work. Loving creative work means you have great taste... but in anything, just starting out, you're going to suck, and your sucking is going to break your heart. Nobody tells you about that gap between where your work is now, and your exquisite good taste, and no one tells you that you just have keep slogging on, trusting that at some point you won't suck.

I think the thing which is most impressive about his talk was that it had to be scripted. It had to be sculpted and worked on and worked over, and yet, he spoke naturally, relaxedly, as if he were just forming the ideas then. Like he was your friend who just wouldn't shut up—but unlike the friend who won't shut up, you're hanging on every word. He seemed genuine with his emotion, with his wonder, laughter, passion.

He spoke til 10pm. Two hours. Well past my bedtime. And I spent a lot of Monday thinking about it. And this morning too.

I did a bit of web surfing as I was thinking about and trying to write this. How do I capture this in my clumsy way?
Here is a bit from a recent interview (August):

Brian Montopoli: I don't think that puts me in a vanguard, though. I think all the vanguard people all have cleaning ladies. Anyway, and feel free to just blow this question off if you want, but ...

Ira Glass: Wouldn't it be weird if you were to ask me a question that is so offensive that I would actually like hang up? I would totally do like a Robert Novak on you and be like, "I'm sorry, I don't talk about that anymore." (laughing) I would love that.

BM: Sadly, I don't think my question is anywhere near offensive enough for that. I did this fellowship at NPR a few years back, and when I was doing it, I told people that I liked "This American Life." And what everyone said to me was, "Oh, you know, Ira Glass took that show to NPR and they blew him off, and so he took it to PRI." And then I would get conflicting reports about what actually happened. And I was hoping just once and for all, there could be the definitive account of, like, whether you were blown off by NPR, and then angrily, in a huff, took your show to PRI, or what exactly happened.

IG: I'm sorry, I don't talk about that.

(Glass hangs up. Thirty seconds later, he calls back.)

BM: I can't believe you actually hung up.

IG: See, that felt good. I want to do that every interview, now.

BM: It would change your reputation, that's for sure. I just thought it was like a fake clicking noise, but it was actually a real click. I'm blown away.

IG: I guess it sort of takes some of the spice out of it that I called you back.

BM: Yeah, it does ...

reclaimthemedia.org/stories.php?story=05/08/15/1213953

permalink November 15, 2005 | Comments (6)

November 14, 2005

What would you fight for?

The session with career dude went well on Friday. I was really really happy to get out of the house, and feeling actually better, and we talked about my feelings about power and when I lost faith in myself. This guy is so good. We talk, and he teases these strands out that suddenly make it perfectly clear what occurred. I was reminded that I knew even before I accepted the job that it wasn't a good fit, that I flourished under my old boss, but have flailed since. There's more there, of course. But essentially the questions arose: am I willing to champion myself and my ideas? And what's worth fighting for?

I am reminded that I am naturally competitive in some areas, such as athletics and driving. That doesn't necessarily mean that I'm good at it, but I am in there wholeheartedly. It's important, dammit! In actual interactions with human beings, however, I'm very fragile, or at least I think I am. Is it reasonable to think I can toughen my skin at this stage in the game?

What's worth fighting for? I think that's the key. In some parts of my life, I feel like I'm not attached to myself, I'm looking down from far away, and I, the I that is so far away, wants things, but feels powerless to change things.
...
It was chilly, overcast, and grey as we got into the truck to go to the Hair of the Dog annual sale. Perfect weather. Couldn't ask for better. As we're driving through the maze of mud and gravel streets that make up that part of the SE Industrial railyards, I am so very excited. We are going to Hair of the Dog! We're only maybe 15 minutes late, and we're already in a motorized line of men trying to figure out where to abandon their trucks.

I see Nita right off. Couldn't be easier. Female, not in a truck. And, of course, there's a cyclist, probably in his fifties, with a bike trailer.

We walk though the industrial garage door into the party. There is a line around the fermentation tanks, everyone talking and laughing, clutching little juice glasses with a smidge (or much less) of Hair of the Dog's wonderful beers. There are a surprising lot of little kids, who are all well-behaved.

We fell in line, got tasters of different ales, met folks, ran into others, bought beer and talked about buying more. I gushed to one of the brewers about how much I loved his beer. And I admit, I was glad to go to breakfast at a dive around the corner, to get some carbs into my system.

Next stop, to one of Sweetie's cow-orkers who home-brews. Home-brewing to me suggests a weekend project, small in scope, one style at a time. D. has a garage that is entirely full of brewing equipment, and a spare fridge with 4 different taps: a hard cider, a pale ale, a porter, and an imperial stout. Tasty and impressive!

Then we head up to Woodstock Wine and Deli for the Celebration vertical tasting. Sheesh, such a lot of beer and it's not even 2 in the afternoon! Sierra Nevada Brewery created the original American winter ale. Now, us westcoasters complain about the rain, but are so excited for all the new and old favorite winter ales. The proprietor had kegs from 2001 forward, hence the vertical aspect. Incredible. I liked the 2003 best—the hopes had mellowed, but it hadn't yet moved towards barleywinedom as earlier years were.

The Sierra Nevada owner/brewer was sitting behind us, and he opened an older bottle and started pouring tasters for his table. I guess we were a bit obvious, because then he poured one for us too. 1993. Incredible. We passed it around, smelling it, sipping it, feeling our eyes roll back into our heads... Sweetie didn't miss a beat. He ran out to the truck and got Mr. Grossman a couple of Doggie Claws that we had bought at the Hair of the Dog sale.

permalink November 14, 2005 | Comments (5)

November 10, 2005

that's a heck of a note

My crud continues. But I really felt like I needed to go into work this morning, and I did feel a bit better than yesterday. So I called in late, and went in. The walk to the busstop was very tiring, but the bus ride was long, and so once I got off the bus, I was ready to make the walk to the office. I stopped and got a cup of coffee and the coffeehouse girl asked me how I was and had I been sick in her broken english. So sweet. And then I went up stairs. And was sent back home.

I guess it makes sense. I'm still feverish, 6 days in. So I'm probably still contagious. But I was and am so anxious for human contact. I've spent 300 days, or so it seems, just me and the animals at home, with occasional appearances by Sweetie. He's taken good care of me, for sure.

And I want to accomplish something. Anything.

permalink November 10, 2005 | Comments (4)

November 7, 2005

brewin' and chillin'

Thank you all for the kind remarks. Thank you.

I was glad to call it a day on Friday. I caught up with Sweetie, had a nice meal, and generally started to let go of the pain of the day.

Saturday was Teach a Friend Home Brewing Day. If you were here in Portland and didn't hear about it, well, no surprise there as there appeared to be zilch for advertising. Sweetie heard about it on the BrewCrew mailing list, and so it was that we were sitting in his truck at 8:20 in front of Steinbart's, with no signs of life anywhere around us.

Twenty minutes later, the first other homebrew enthusiasts arrived, and maybe 15 minutes later, the first of what seemed to be a half-dozen homebrewers who were doing demos.

At that point, it was clear, but chilly. We all laughed about the pouring rain that had been predicted... until it arrived an hour and a half later.

Anyways. We hung out watching several guys extract brewing, one doing an Imperial Red, the other a Classic Bitter. There were also some all grain brew demo as well as mini-mashes, but to be honest, I know so very little about this that I wanted to stick with the starter method. The guy who was making the Red did most of the talking (and I believe is the current BrewCrew president), and he was quite entertaining.

Meanwhile, it was a party atmosphere. Someone was grilling sausages, and there were pretzels and tortilla chips and bean dip and salsa, and people were passing around their homebrews to try. Every single thing we tried was excellent! First, an Oktoberfest, then a Porter, a Belgian Golden...

I was freezing, but I was trying to be a good sport, as I'm interested in this, and Sweetie is super-interested in this. My mind kept returning to the thought that my life would be better if I were wearing more woolens. Layer upon layer of handknits. But once someone complained about being cold, I was all over that. We stopped into Steinbart's (the store) and it was a zoo—everyone and their brother measuring and grinding grains, choosing hops, looking at kits, looking at malt and yeast. So we got out of there quickly.

We hauled our friends to Muddy's for breakfast, and then across the street to the Rebuilding Center, since they hadn't seen it since the new addition was added. My question is: the new addition is open at the top—so aren't they worried about birds? I guess not.

Okay, this is where the story gets really dull. I can't seem to get warm. I laid down for a while, couldn't get warm. So I laid on the couch with the dog and the cats and several of my mom's quilts and tons of layers on, and I still couldn't get warm. Every now and again, I would suddenly be HOT, and I'd have to pile off all my covers and layers and animals, and then immediately, I'd be freezing again.

The whole idea of crossing the room to get a book, or some yarn, or whatever, was way too much for me to even consider. And then Sunday morning, I woke up with an insanely sore neck. Turning my head hurts. The dog inadvertantly biffs me in the nose and I'm in agonizing pain. Etc.

I thought this couldn't get any worse but it actually has. How can my damn neck hurt anymore than it did, really?

permalink November 7, 2005 | Comments (2)

November 4, 2005

96 tears

So, another good appointment with the career dude. I learned lots, as usual, though thinking about these things is not always so easy or pleasant. Among other things, the roles I've played in my self-sabotage is painful. And in some of these incidents, I don't know that I can make the corrections to save the situation.

It's easier in a lot of ways to believe I'm a victim, than seeing the ways that I allow problems to happen and continue, and the ways I could change the situation that I find distasteful and difficult. Heaven forfend, my clumsiness could kill the situation. So how is that worse, really, than being in a situation that hurts, fully and totally?

There were positive things that I learned as well. Though the positive isn't making me feel any better.

I liked Jon's comment about his first boss, the mentor. See, once upon a time before there was a lot of water under the bridge, I felt like I was a mentor. I was giving the sort of attention and feedback and room to learn that I had learned best under: scaffolding, if you will. And yet, I wasn't looking at the potential consequences of that. I expected loyalty and gratitude, instead of self-promotion. The former didn't come. I felt as though I was caught in a cage of my own making.

Something about the situation feels familiar. I hate that.

I like respect, but I don't like to toot my own horn. I'm not a self-promoter. I'm all about the team. And yet, what happens when you're in an environment that's all about power and control and recognition? You have to self-promote. It's all about ego here at work. And I didn't see that. Instead, I ended up looking like I was the assistant, and worse yet, not getting to do the fun stuff, the learning stuff.

EDIT: Okay, it's Monday now, and it's really not so black and white, cut and dried. What I guess smarts worst is looking like I'm the assistant. There has been gratitude and loyalty—and also some biting the hand. While I did the best I could, I'm sure I could have handled all of this better. *sigh*

permalink November 4, 2005

abdicate

Well, I did my homework for the career guy. So hard! I feel like I'm painting myself into a corner. I think about specific expertise, and I think, huh. I can do a bunch of things, but they are all low-level, technical, hands-on things. But the weird thing is that I feel so disconnected. I feel like I'm answering these questions about someone I barely know.

What do I find easy? What articles do I read closely? What is my best accomplishment? What is my reputation? Dear g-d, I live in my skin, but I feel like I might have a better time describing a stranger.

Yesterday, I started thinking about how good I am at keeping people at arms length from me. I am really good at it. Maybe that's my specific expertise! And I really have to work at not doing it. So I become unhappy about my relationships, but hey, it's the way I set them up to work. Hello, self-sabotage! But it appears that I keep myself at arms length as well.

What I don't get is how I can be so enthusiastic about school, and so sure that I'll be capable of learning, and excelling—and how I can feel 180 degrees off from that at work? I don't feel confident or competent. I don't trust that I can do the work.

I find myself in a corner. The roles that I used to have, that I used to play, have been taken on by others. At work, I have a smart and ambitious assistant. I gave her the interesting work because I felt that was what I should do. Now she does all the interesting work, and I have no idea how. I abdicated my power, and it seems, my ability. The same thing has happened at home. I used to be the master of my house and of my kitchen—now my sweetie makes most of the food and all of the coffee, and I feel a bit like an interloper.

permalink November 4, 2005 | Comments (9)

November 3, 2005

I am made of soap

Why am I so excited about googlemapping, and so stuck and afraid about career exploration? Why?!

I figured out one way of googlemapping yesterday. Since then, I've been obsessed with how to do it with an xml file that holds all the content. Why can't I leave well enough alone? Why must I tweak?

I don't know if there is a connection between this crankiness and the recent lack of exercise, but umm, I am cranky and I do have a lack of exercise. And I have been hungry like a bear! But I did finally go to J & G and order a waterproof rain jacket. What took me so long??

In the last week, I've been taking the bus a lot. A lot of folks slag my busline, but I think it is generally full of entertainment. The other day, I had a great conversation with someone about newcomers coming to Portland, and you can tell they're newcomers by their body language, as well as how the Bush administration seems determined to bankrupt the country. I love those sorts of conversations with strangers that on one level are just small talk, but on another they are a connection, a bridge. That evening, I was surrounded by teenage boys, and I felt paranoid. Yesterday there was a man wearing a matted women's wig; he gave a frightening 30 second butt-wiggle before settling his behind in a seat. (I really didn't need to see that) And this morning, I took the other, white-bread bus, which is never interesting. But I got a lot of knitting done.

Right now I'm swatching for some scooter gloves. Yes! I'm making them out of Mountain Colors Mountain Goat, a mohair-wool blend in ruby river. So they are this lovely, ever so slightly varigated winey red, tremendously soft, subtly shiny, with great stitch definition. I can't wait to get started. I'm doing this, as usual, without a pattern. Who needs a stinkin' pattern? Though if I were to use a pattern, it might be something like these Voodoo Wrist Warmers

If you've been thinking about knitting a robot, it might have a life of its own.

permalink November 3, 2005 | Comments (2)

November 2, 2005

my true self, revealed

You might think of me as VJ or Vicki Jean but really, I am Vicious Juggernaut or Vicious Investigator-Crushing Kitten-Injuring Juggernaut from the Enchanted Arcane Necropolis. I didn't know this was the case, but now I do.

Is there something you need to tell me? :)

http://monster.namedecoder.com/

permalink November 2, 2005 | Comments (1)

grumble, grumble, grumble.

I'm cranky. Yesterday, work was unpleasant, full of disrespect and mistrust. I got home late after a union meeting. I had been hungry for hours. And whiny, did I mention whiny? So my sweetie made me tacos, and I drank a fair amount of beer.

Since I did the thinking about beer drinking, I've been doing very little of it. And all of it outside the house. In controlled circumstances. And I think by and large, I've been in pretty good spirits.

Today, I feel futile. Is this due to having drunk beer? Or due to my unhappiness with the whole work thing? Or both? Or not having bicycled in days due to this ridiculous deluge of rain?

Anyways. Got my first comment on altportland! And six people are subscribed to the feed. Dude, I am so excited!

Contrast this with my homework for the Career guy. I filled out my interest inventory yesterday, and was kinda overwhelmed by it. It seemed so important. And there were so many things that I'm interested in. Ack. I tried to look at this like you'd look at a topic search: you want to collect the largest initial sample, and then eliminate false leads, but, it still felt strange.

I still have other homework to do for him. I have to come up with some success stories. Success stories?!? I feel so far away from that. And then he sent along a questionnaire which on general principal scares me to my socks.

The terror I feel doing these things resembles the terror that I've felt in applying for other jobs.

I'm straining to come up with some athletic content here. Must.. get... back... into the fray. So in the small chance that you don't read cyclelicio.us, Fritz has posted a couple of interesting things in the last couple days. Like Arlington's campaign to make alternative transit sexier: Rides in the City (which is set up like a blog but doesn't have a newsfeed/RSS/Atom—which means I hate it!). Or what about disclosing the dangers of automobiles like you do with alcohol, tobacco, and M@Donalds coffee?

Oh. Here's a funny. Sunday, when I was down at Run Like Hell, we were standing in line behind a family wearing black cloaks and giant eyeball headthingees. They looked just like the Residents! Now, I recognize that that is not really a pop culture reference, but hey. So I get the attention of the patriarch, who is wearing his giant eyeball headthingee...

VJ: So, are you guys the Residents?
The Residents guy: We're here for a race.
VJ: Yes, so am I. But I was wondering, are you dressed as the Residents?
The Residents guy: No, we're from Washington.

So the pictures along the side here are pics from after the race: the bavarian couple complete with beer steins, the tooth fairies, the devil, the Residents....

permalink November 2, 2005 | Comments (2)

November 1, 2005

Coming Home

Yesterday was Katie's Coming Home Celebration, aka, the funeral. It was held in a neighborhood church which I've always been interested in. The modest church was full, absolutely full, of mourners, and there were quite a few I recognized, either from next door, or from the neighborhood.

I managed, remarkably, to keep it together through the scripture, the reflection on Katie's life, the hellfire and brimstone, the invitation (aka, altar call). One woman close by began sobbing, and everyone around her leaned in to comfort her. And I thought that maybe I wouldn't cry.

Ever since my father's funeral, I cry at funerals. Not that I didn't before, but even in going to funerals to support someone else, I find myself sobbing uncontrollably, and people start asking if I'm okay. That, you know, is not the effect I was going for. But the last funeral I went to was for a cow-orker and friend, and I managed to cry about the appropriate amount.

So I was hopeful that I was not going to go down in Katie's friends' and family's minds as the hysterical neighbor girl. And then the minister gave the benediction and opened the casket for a viewing. I was okay until I had to walk by Katie's daughter, so upset, and Katie's husband, so upset, and I was feeling like my heart was just going to break. Katie was lying in her casket, and she looked so serene, so young.

permalink November 1, 2005 | Comments (4)

October 31, 2005

how to sell things

Thanks, everyone, for adding your names and greetings to my frappr map. If you haven't already, check it out—I think it's mighty cool.

So, an update on the work sitch. According, now, to my boss and my supervisor, I will not be going involuntarily part-time. I had a chat Friday with my supervisor about how inappropriately the whole thing was handled, and she agreed to talk to the boss. And suddenly, I was told that I had misunderstood.

After November, my boss will also be my supervisor. Oh, dear g-d.

Anyways, it was a good weekend. I conducted a spice crawl of three places, one of which appears to be a drug-front. Sunday morning, I went down to watch Mela run in in the Run Like Hell, and we hung out, noshing on free burritos and free beer, and then cheered some other friends coming in. Lots of folks were in costume, and I got some great pictures (which, I forgot to download onto my computer). We then went and had an entirely unimpressive breakfast and went home to take naps.
...
There are some times that I think my True Calling might be e-commerce. So very many e-commerce sites are done so half-assedly, it really really bothers me. Someone would have to be pretty motivated to buy from these folks. And it's not like you need some sort of web scripting prowess to see what needs to be changed.

For example, I visited a local yarn store's website which had an e-commerce function. It had categories, some of which contained nothing. It appeared to not have a single picture of any items, but each item had a square with the text No Picture Available. It had duplicates for various yarn manufacturers, with no indication that there was another category that contained more. There was no search feature, no thesaurus (obviously), no metadata, no information about what the yarn is made of, no indications of suggested needle sizes, swatch sizes, how you'd wash it, or what this yarn might excell at. There was a more information link on each item—that took you to a page with no further information!

And the worst, for an e-commerce site that has a storefront: no hours! And, the site has very very little to make it noticiable to search engines. Jeez!

Anyways, I decided that I was going to hit a couple of the new yarn shops in town. The one with the ill-conceived e-commerce site was one, and a little shop in Lake Oswego with no website was the other.

First, the one with the website. Beautiful store, lots of yarn, lots of space. Nowhere to sit and figure out if colors work, or how much yardage you'll need, and no one hanging out, knitting. That's a bad sign. Two folks were working, who stayed behind the counter until I asked a question (and there was no one else in the store). When I asked the question, both of them scrambled, appearing to not really know their stock.

Contrast this to the store in Lake Oswego. This maybe had a quarter of the first store's square footage. Yet people were hanging out on the couch and on comfie chairs. Exquisite lighting highlighted the beautiful colors and textures of the carefully edited yarn selection. The one woman working was chatting with some folks who winter in California, but she made sure that I knew to ask any questions. And at one point when I started fingering a particularly luscious ball of grey merino-cashmere, she talked about how this held up better and doesn't pill compared to a famous designers yarn with the same content, and that it had a beautiful hand (ie, it feels great when you're knitting it), and it's machine washable.

It's clear which one I'll go back to, inspite of the fact that it's far away, with no website.

permalink October 31, 2005

October 29, 2005

Where are you, dear reader?

In playing with maps, I found this: Frappr. Which allows you to put up a map and allow others to mark it. It wasn't everything I was looking for for the application I was looking for, but I thought it might be cool to play with. Take a look at it, and add yourself to the map if you'd like. You can add a picture if you want as well. Also, if you have a blog, put the full url in the shout out without HTML. It will make the full url a link automagically. Cool, huh?

Like, for example:

VJ

Portland, Oregon

Hi everyone!

http://www.braveathena.com

permalink October 29, 2005 | Comments (2)

October 28, 2005

Career Opportunities, the ones that never knock

Well, I'm feeling a quite a bit more positive about things this morning. Even before I went to see the career counselor. And I was very hopeful about that, too.

I had thought that perhaps the career counseling thing might be a one or two visit thing, where at the end he would ceremoniously reveal my true callingTM. Okay, that last part I know is wishful thinking. I was very pleased by the process, though. We talked in a very organic fashion—that is to say, apparently without direction. And then when I would start to think, "I should get on-topic now", he would ask a question or make a statement that made it clear that he was making connections between this and the whole issue of work.

By a half hour in, I understood some of my internal conflicts about job hunting. I'm very good at analyzing myself and situations, but I find it hard to go forward from that analysis, and he is very good at asking questions that cut to the heart of the matter, and illuminate the parts that I didn't even know I was missing.

I'm sounding like I drank the koolaid. Well, I did have some tea.

At the end, he gave me some homework and asked if I had ever done a skills inventory test before. I said I had, about 15 years ago at a community college, and it said I should be a podiatrist because it involved less than fulltime work with reasonable pay. I laughed when I said it, but he quickly stopped me and said that he could see me in that sort of role, though not necessarily dealing with feet.

I'm excited. I have a lot to work on over the weekend!
...
I still haven't signed up for the half-marathon yet. It's Sunday, today is Friday. Quite simply, I'm freaking out! Questioning if I even want to do this. I haven't done any training, I haven't done anything. It seems ridiculous to turn down a half right here in my backyard, but, it also seems ridiculous to do one without training.
...
Two weird occurrences:

1. Yesterday, I'm in Office Despot when I notice the background music. It's a cover of the MC5's Kick Out the Jams. I hear the words of the first verse—yep, that's it. And then it's switched off right before the chorus.

   Kick out the jams in Office Despot?!?!



2. There is a woman who writes my work email address. I don't know her, I've never met her or talked to her on the phone or corresponded with her, but for whatever reason, she sends me email forwards. I hate getting email forwards! Just now, she's sent me four (4)(!!!!!!) of them. One was about how women have to fear for their lives 24/7, one was about writing the people you love to say I love you, and two were about how we all need to be better Christians because Katrina was all about retribution.

permalink October 28, 2005 | Comments (2)

October 21, 2005

Apocalypse later today

Okay. The apocalypse is now. I expect the end of the world by the end of the day.

You might be thinking (rightly) that I'm having one of my mood swings. But actually, I'm feeling really good today.

I saw a Segway in a bike lane. Yes. Not only that, I saw it on Vancouver Ave, just north of Beech. Those of you who know Portland know that this is a transitioning neighborhood made up of the working poor, an established middle-class, public housing, young hipsters, and yuppies looking to turn over real estate quickly. It's a neighborhood that was ravaged by crack and crank, by gangs, and by petty crime in the 80s.

Vancouver Ave also has a really popular south-bound bike lane. So popular that I don't ride it cuz there's too much traffic. Bike traffic. And there is the world's slowest vehicle, the Segway, dominating the bike lane.

Other than this end of the world stuff, things are going pretty well. Last night I scooted across town (12 miles!) to hear Leigh Radford speak. Leigh and I are knitting acquaintances—we met taking a sockknitting class almost 6 years ago. She's well known in Portland, having worked at one of the yarn shops and offering classes at several. It was really no surprise when I learned that she had a book coming out, Alterknits, about some new approaches to knitting. That's Leigh, always pushing the boundaries.

Anyhow, I've wanted to get the book, and see the projects in person, and yesterday morning I learned that she'd be speaking at a knitting guild meeting that evening, across town. Now, one of the reasons that I don't go to that knitting guild's meetings very often is because they're across town, in an suburb that has horrendous traffic all the time. So I packed my satchel with my new knitting project (an iP0d sock for sweetie made from Koigu, so luscious) and hit the road.

Riding out there was a bit much. It was dusk, and I was on a highway at rush hour, with a posted speed limit of 45. I'm going 55, and everyone is flying by me like I'm standing still. There's a bike lane, and surprise surprise, there are actually bicyclists on it—though I think that had as much to do with the darth of through streets in this area, as well as the darth of westside bike routes.

But all was good once I got there. Leigh had lots of cool projects, which set me to thinking about cool future projects of my own. I felt eminently creative, a feeling that doesn't visit all that often, but that I most frequently feel amongst my undergrad friends. It's nice to feel that way.

Tomorrow, I learn more about urban planning. Sunday, I slug velo. Hopefully today I'll make some appointments to talk to professionals who can tell me what I should be when I grow up. I made some important realizations yesterday about this latest midlife crisis, so I'm feeling kinda hopeful that, like the guy in the AA story about the hole, that this time I'll see it before I'm in it.

(Whaa, you don't know the AA story about the guy and the hole? Here it is, from webhome.idirect.com/~avroarow/P6.HTM)

The AA story about the guy and the hole

1. I walk down the street; There is a deep hole in the sidewalk;
   I fall in. I am lost ... I am helpless, It isn't my fault. It takes me forever to find a way out.


2. I walk down the same street; There is a deep hole in the sidewalk;
   I pretend I don't see it; I fall in again. I can't believe I am in the same place, but it isn't my fault. It still takes a long time to get out.


3. I walk down the same street; There is a deep hole in the sidewalk; I see it is there; I still fall in ... it's a habit. My eyes are open, I know where I am. It is my fault. I get out immediately.


4. I walk down the same street, There is a deep hole in the sidewalk. I walk around it.


5. I walk down another street.

(Oh, and the 22% tax that I mentioned yesterday? The catch-22? If only!! It is just some bike-positive propaganda. That I really like. )

permalink October 21, 2005 | Comments (2)

October 20, 2005

Streets of Paradise

I am trying to stay focused. Trying. But my eye wanders to the "tray" on the desktop—is there a new piece of mail? And random thoughts send me to googling things. So I am not succeeding as much as I might like.

Two things, related, that I came across in my email (evil!) this morning. There was one of those "I'm moving to Portland soon" emails, which involve a sort of magical thinking that everything will just work out (I usedta get a fair amount of these when altportland was more prominent, and they always irritated the living hell out of me)—addressed to the bike listserv I'm on. Someone piped up welcoming the newcomer, mentioning that they were welcome but there was a Vehicle Immigration Tax on automobiles to the tune of 22%. In fact, some people call it the Catch-22.

I'm thinking that I need to add that as a prominent part of altportland.

Later in the thread that ensued (which I'm sure you can imagine), someone mentioned Illichville.

Why can't there be at least one city in America where Americans care enough to grow and prepare their own food? Why can't there be at least one car-free city in America? Why can't there be at least one place where artists don't have to fear being displaced by gentrification, farmers don't have to fear being displaced by suburban sprawl and craftspeople don't have to fear being undercut by sweatshop labor? Why can't there be at least one city where everyone, not just the affluent can afford to live the good life?
—The Good Life

Mind you, I know there's a reason that utopias don't exist, and I think of all the trouble Cheesepuppet went through to get out of a cohousing community that was endangering the health of her infant—honestly, I'm not that naïive. And maybe it's magical thinking that we could go back to some happier, healthier way of life. I still like the idea of it, though, even if it isn't possible.

Also, Cheesepuppet read something about anxiety, and wrote about it that really resonated for me. Anxiety is about control, or the lack of it. But it's also about not having the confidence that you'll do the best you can do, and that things will be okay. Of course, there is always the chance that things won't be okay but there's absolutely nothing you can do about that, can you?

This is where Christian faith seems to be a problem-solver: you can believe that G-d has a purpose, and that this was meant to be, whatever this is. But, if you're not Christian, or not a believer at all, it's pretty hard to argue that this was meant to be. (Though I still do. I know, it's not logical.) And, well, no, I'm not going any further on religion.

Anyways. Trusting that you'll land on your feet. That's what I'm working on.

permalink October 20, 2005 | Comments (3)

October 19, 2005

Neca tagged me!

Nigella and Natasha as kittens

Neca tagged me! And I wrote the whole entry and then somehow, inadvertantly, my browser crashed and the post is history. Oh well.

Here's the deal:
1. Go into your archives.
2. Find your 23rd post.
3. Find the fifth sentence (or the closest one to it)
4. Post the text of your sentence in your blog along with these rules.
5. Tag five other people.

And here's the fifth sentence of the 23rd post, aka Kittens Hailed As Key To Marathon Success

Watch for cars and car doors and cats.

I was writing about bicycling and how I had to be focused.

Of course, I started the post with a quote from the PFit Bulletin Board:

They are playful, box/house trained, and most of all, come from a long line of marathoners...

Someone was wanting to give away kittens.

Guess I shouldn't quit my day job, eh?

I tag:
- Tzsuj
- Cheesepuppet
- Liz
- Rachel (on either blog)
- Dark O'Clock
- Marshall

permalink October 19, 2005 | Comments (3)

October 18, 2005

Weekend in Bend

So sweetie and I just got back Sunday night from Bend. I'm worn out. These damn vacationlettes are wearing.

When I was asking folks for suggestions, I was surprised by how many people said that they would live there in a second. I'm still a little surprised, honestly.

In my uneducated opinion, there are three things to do in Central Oregon:

• Outdoor activities (mountain biking, rock climbing, hiking, skiing...)


• Brewpub visiting (Deschutes, Bend Brewing, Cascade Lakes, Silver Moon)


• and Volcano geeking (Newberry volcanic monument).

We did the last two.

What to tell? We drank too much beer. Or actually, not very much beer at all, but for some reason, I seemed to have lost any tolerance that I had. We first went to Deschutes and had a sampler tray of 6 of their 8 seasonals. The majority of which were fantastic. We had a hearty snack to tide us over, before walking around town and Mirror Pond (Oh yes, Deschutes does name all their regular beers after geographic features of the area). Once we were hungry again, we went to Bend Brewing (or BBC as it's called locally), and had another sampler tray, this time the $11 40-0uncer (10 4oz pours), along with dinner. I was less impressed with their beers, but I also kinda felt like my palate was tired (bear with me, I'm trying to give them the benefit of the doubt).

Otherwise, we tried to avoid doing things in the cutesy, touristy downtown, which was expensive. We went for drinks at a cute, goofy, space-aged bar, and then did a special, expensive birthday dinner (his, not mine) which was unimpressive. The best meal was certainly the breakfast at Alpenglow, which was full of really good waffles, english muffins and eggs, and locals—including one guy with fangs.

I hit an incredible yarn store, and demonstrated why I shouldn't be allowed in one with a credit card. Damn, the colors were so pretty. I'm a sucker for the colors. I walked out with several skeins of Koigu, a gorgeous sock yarn from Ontario, and Mountain Colors, from Montana, in colors like wilderness and ruby river.

In wandering around town, I was noticing all the bike lanes. Lots of them, including along Highway 97. Hardcore! They also had sidewalks along the highway. And I saw lots of bicycles downtown. Which I took pictures of. And then tourists would ask me why I was taking pictures of bicycles.

They of course have bike lane stencils, and they have wacky bike lane stencils. And here I thought Portland was special. And not short-bus special. Sigh!

We hit the High Desert Museum, where we saw a bobcat, a corn snake, and a vicious otter, as well as a really great collection of Paiute beadwork.

We hit the Newberry Volcanic Monument in several waves—a hike around Lava Lands, where the astronauts trained to walk the moon, the site closest to Bend. Then we spent a number of hours at Paulina (puh-lI-nuh). We drove up the steep gravel road to Paulina Peak (at almost 8000 feet - you can see into 3 states!), which was just incredible. Climbing the hill, practically straight up, we passed three mountain bikers. Whoa!

As we undid our safety belts, we saw an eagle soaring overhead. Damn! We got out of the car, standing in wonder at the Peak. We had an excellent view of the horseshoe of mountains that surround the caldera, the twin lakes below (Paulina and East), the obsidian flow, and bald, bare areas where nothing grows. About 5 or 10 minutes later, the cyclists made the peak, in high spirits and talking about puking. They had ridden all the way up from highway 97. Whoa!

Then we hiked around the Big Obsidian Flow, which was also really incredible. It bummed me out to see a father and his three kids hike out with huge pieces of obsidian, not even trying to hide that they were doing something illegal. Thanks for setting a good example, dude! But my anger was soon turned to wonder at this insane landscape of pumice and obsidian. We're walking on the path which is largely made of broken pumice and obsidian, with large and small chunks of obsidian everywhere. Incredible.

I took tons of pictures, and I tried very hard to edit them in such a way that there aren't three thousand pictures of obsidian (just, um, maybe 15 or so?).
...
So I'm sinking back into normal life. I seem to be getting in touch with some internal rage. We had a couple encounters with assholes in Bend that left me shaking angry. Like, oh my gosh, I'm a volcano angry, and you better watch out. This intensity of anger is really seeming new.

At work, I try hard to be a team player. But not everyone else tries. Some people are jerks.

I have tried to just live with it, because I need this guy to be an ally. But who am I kidding? He's not an ally.

I had to ask him about something this morning, and walked away and found myself seething. I know that men feel this all the time, but I generally don't, and the violence of the emotion is kinda frightening.

I had just gotten in from a nice bike ride, feeling like all was right in the world, and now I'm glad that no weapons are easily accessible as I wouldn't like the food in prison.

permalink October 18, 2005 | Comments (2)

October 9, 2005

Marathon weekend

It's been a big weekend, and I'm wore out.

Saturday, we decided to prowl around St. Johns for a bit. St. Johns is a peninsula in North Portland, a long-time working class neighborhood, which has really changed in the last ten years.

We went for breakfast at Pattie's Home Plate, hit St. John's Booksellers where we spent a quite a bit of time and bought a great zine about St. Johns, went to Blue Moon, the coolest camera and typewriter store. We grabbed some sweets (fresh donuts!) at the Tulip, and did some record shopping at Vinyl Resting Place.

It looks like the rents must be low enough that people can put in cool shops. We loved it, then we drove along the heavy industry on the riverfront.

On Sunday, I spent the bulk of the day hangin' at the PFit cheer station, midway between miles 20 and 21 on the Portland Marathon course. I was looking for a pile of folks: Tricia, the owner of my fav restaurant, a bunch of cow-orkers, and Mela. The hour and a half between when Tricia and Rol must have come through was supercrazy—lots and lots of runners, and I missed both of them. I did see Mela and a coworker though.

It's interesting to be on the cheering side of things. I got there later than I had hoped, around 9, and the party was going strong. Lots of spectators, lots of cheering stations. From the point where Sweetie dropped me off to the PFit cheering station, I passed through 4! And once I got to PFit, we were a huge crowd, armed with noisemakers.

This year, some of the bibs had names on them.

Note to participants: want me to call your name?

• Don't be wearing headphones (I don't care if you can hear me)


• Make sure that your name makes sense and can be quickly figured out

DB Cooper, for example, is a good name. Miriam!! is a good name. 4 Ben is great. I'm blanking on bad names, but there were many. I wanna support ya! Help me out!

As the morning moved on, the crowds thinned. By the time the marathon was "reduced" to walkers, there were maybe 10 of us at the cheering station. And cheerers were peeling off, walking participants in.

This stuff breaks my heart. I'm biased, I know, but the folks that take longer are out there in pain longer. They're showing real grit. Someone who can do a three hour marathon, that's mighty cool (and congrats, Tricia!). But the folks who are persevering in spite of people passing them, in spite of being out there alone, in spite of blisters and muscle pain and exhaustion—damn, those are my people. They should have a huge crowd. They should have people out, en masse, cheering them on.

But they don't. They don't.

And I admit, I was exhausted from standing there, shouting out names, rattling the noisemaker, and standing there. I felt so tired that I thought I might collapse. When do I get to go home? I don't think I felt this bad during the Coast marathon! Why didn't I bring a chair? I knew I was going to be there for the long haul!

Then came the time when the walkers were moved to the sidewalks. I felt fresh rage about that, I remember how it felt like adding insult to injury...

A woman came through, looking really bad. Eric jumped in and started asking questions, and we found out that she had been walking wounded since mile 10. She was cold to the touch, and seemed really out of it. She wanted to quit. So he volunteers to drive her back to her car, and we find out that she's a runner, recently had an injury, and just thought that she would walk the marathon. I could hear the unspoken "because it's so easy". I felt bad that she had to learn that way that, no, it's not so easy.

A couple other folks came up and unceremoniously quit after that.

And suddenly, there was just Debbie and I. Debbie and her husband were at the cheering station last year, and they totally took care of me. So this year, when someone who looked particularly bad came through, Debbie would say, "does this bring back memories?". Like, yeah. Why do you think I'm out here, exactly?

The unspoken agreement was that we would stay out until our last walker came through. Or if a whole ten minutes went by without any walkers in eyeshot. Just about when we were going to give up, up came our last walker, looking strong and as comfortable as a person doing a marathon can be. Yay!!! I'm so very proud of her!

Going home on the bus, I saw that the medical aid station and water station had packed up. There were two volunteers directing people. Ack, it breaks my heart.

permalink October 9, 2005 | Comments (13)

October 7, 2005

more stuff about stuff

I totally fell into cleaning this morning. I managed to move from being super early for work to being super late.

(Hey, I'm still recovering. I gotta be obsessed with something.)

Actually, I have been obsessed with other things too. I make these incrementally small changes on altportland, and I'm almost, so close, ready to move the blog to the front page. Oh, anytime now. The last couple days I've been working on the RSS piece, and I think I have finally got that together. Almost.

I got stuck with feedburner. Non-techies, turn away, this is going to be dull. Feedburner provides one feed that accomodates multiple RSS feeds. Sounds good, right? Well, what's wrong with it? There has to be something wrong with it, some drawback. Is there a drawback? Bloggers, you gotta help me!

Cuz I couldn't find a single drawback. I couldn't find anyone who talked crap about feedburner. Even in the feedburner blog, the blogsters seemed, well, funny and decent and reasonable.

So, what do you think of feedburner?

While I was looking for dirt on feedburner, I found a entry from one of the pioneer luminaries of the web, John Batelle, about attention. If you follow that link, check out his database of intentions first, before reading the attentiontrust entry—it'll make more sense. Or it did for me.

This made me think about Kipchoge comment again, and about the amount of information pollution we face. Let me repost it:

I think to a certain degree clutter is a symptom. The disease itself is what needs addressing: our compulsion to accumulate any chance we get.

Mind you, information is a great thing, but for me, at least, there's way too much of it. Even when you aren't looking at printed information, we are hit with so much more information than we can process or use. My two sick days at home meant I tiV0ed a pile of stuff. When will I watch all of this? Who knows, but now I feel this tremendous pressure to get it done.

Visiting those link-heavy blogs means I bookmark, which means I del.icio.us things compulsively. Will I ever really read these entries? Who knows? I doubt it.

It used to be, like maybe in 1995, that there was so little online that a search brought a finite amount of reasonable results. You might have, then, been able to do a search, and read all the info about it. Or maybe that's revisionist history on my part. Maybe I've always been bookmarking more than I can actually look at.

Blogs are a similar problem. There are far too many that I like. My bloglines has more riches than I can read, and almost every day I am adding new blogs. Limiting them to a manageable amount requires some housekeeping—and I'm just trying to keep up.

And then there's paper. I try to keep on top of what's happening locally, so I can add it to altportland. Am I getting paid for this?—no. Am I able to keep on top of it? Hell, no. Every couple of months, I go through the newspapers and do a wholesale recycle. Even though I know, I know, that there's no way to actually get through all of this, I still end up bringing it home. And then there's the magazines I buy, that sit for months or in some cases, years, before I read them. And, let's face it, books, too.

This is so similar to my ridiculous traveling disease, where I am scared of being bored. So I bring everything. Knitting, PDA, book, magazines, ip0d, tablet and pens, maybe even my colored leads, and I'm still acting pennyless, looking for abandoned New York Times or Wall Street Journals. I tend to bring the biggest purse I own, fill it entirely, and maybe bring an additional plastic bag of magazines and newspaper.

Thinking about this just makes me feel, well, tired. Obviously, I have a problem. I don't know when to stop. I think this is what I need to learn. Maybe, getting bored would be good for me.

permalink October 7, 2005 | Comments (2)

October 5, 2005

Various clutter

Wuhoo, I'm back at work. I am so happy to be outside of the house, though the whole process of getting out of the house was much more arduous than I was expecting.

I walked the couple blocks to the bus stop. I could see kids across the street with signs, but there were so many SUVs, bumper-to-bumper, stopped on Fremont that I couldn't really see the kids or their signs. Finally, a break in the tall vehicles came, and I could see that a couple of the kids had a Walk+Bike to School Banner, and others had signs about bike and ped safety. Oh yeah, it's Walk+Bike to School Day.

It was, honestly, a little more political than I was expecting. Especially to see a group of elementary school kids, mostly kids of color, carrying signs.

I never walked to elementary School. In Lexington, my school was a ways away. I remember walking home a couple times after CCD (Catholic catechism), and getting in a lot of trouble.
...
Hey, here's your mandatory exercise content:

• Exercise now to prevent dementia—especially if you're in your 40s or 50s


• What They Don’t Tell You About Bike Commuting,
  by Grant Petersen (of Rivendell Bicycle Works)
  --> via Fritz at Cyclicio.us

and, in the when pigs fly category


• the White House is encouraging staff members to bike commute, and is installing bike racks! (Sadly, the Times Online (UK) site appears to be down)


• A cocktail on bike-lane stencil, even when done in a lighthearted way and with the greatest intent, is not appropriate
  --> via Jonathan at BikePortland

...
I haven't written about Zoe, the sweetheart pitbull next door, in a while, mostly because the subject makes me very upset. Lately, it doesn't seem to matter if it's early evening, late evening, early morning—Zoe has been tied up behind the house. She has no house, no shelter, nothing but a blanket on the ground to keep her warm. I've had to chant to myself that it doesn't matter that I would give her a better home—it's not okay to steal a dog.

So. Last night one of the renters comes by at 9:15 saying that Zoe is lost and have we seen her? I guess someone had let her out into their unfenced backyard, and she took off. I just feel sick. All I can hope is that Zoe is okay, and that someone is taking good care of her.
...
My thoughts about decluttering seem to have struck a chord with some of you. Like Jessica, I don't want my house to be sterile, and living with three cats and a dog, I don't think I have to worry about that. I suspect that I will always have bookcases that have books not only standing vertically, but horizontal on top of the vertical ones.

As I started to feel better yesterday afternoon, I started taking on little cleaning and decluttering projects. It was necessarily very flylady-like, as I could manage about 15 minutes worth of effort before I needed to just collapse in a heap. My stamina is about as good today, but I did a load of dishes, cleaned off some counters, and generally made a visible difference, before leaving for work.

Maybe it was watching Trust yesterday afternoon. How can you go wrong with dialogue like this:

• Maria: Can you stop watching TV for a minute?


• Matthew: No.


• Maria: Why?


• Matthew: Because. I had a bad day at work. I had to subvert my principles and kow-tow to an idiot. Television makes these daily sacrifices possible. Deadens the inner core of my being.


• Maria: Let's move away then.


• Matthew: They have television everywhere, there's no escape.

Anyways, the Matthew character must repeatedly clean the spotless bathroom. And you know, it was as though the scales fell from my eyes—suddenly I could see the house as others could see it, and man, I had a lot of work to do.

Mind you, I don't know if anyone else would notice the work I did on the house. But I do.

The act of cleaning and dunging out? Very pleasant. I'm looking forward to more of it.

permalink October 5, 2005 | Comments (4)

October 4, 2005

thinkin'

Sorry about no entry yesterday. I've been sick, and spending a lot of time sleeping. I'm hoping I'm going to be feeling better soon, as this whole "pain and exhaustion" as well as no real social contact thing is getting old.

I've been thinking about the whole car ownership thing alot lately. The car I own is 13 years old, and worth next to nothing, yet it still runs reliably, so I'm not inclined to get rid of it. But when it dies?

One of the blogs I've been following lately is Kipchoge, one of the Xtracycle guys. I've been especially thinking about a recent entry that involved a bumper sticker: "God, grant me the courage to sell my car."

I have what seems like a thousand reasons why I should have a car: what if I get a job that requires a huge commute? What if I get a job that requires me to travel around the state? And the ones that came up this weekend: what if I need to go to the pharmacy and I don't have the strength to ride the bike or the scooter? What if it's raining? What if I need to go to the doctor under these circumstances?

I know, I know, there are cabs and friends and even the bus. There are probably work-arounds for all of these excuses. Yet yesterday, when I got a first-thing-in-the-morning doctor's appointment across town that I needed to get to immediately, I was glad to have the car.

I guess in the end, it's the matter of convenience. If I'm planning ahead, being rational about time, that sort of thing, doing errands isn't bad or unpleasant on the scooter, and it probably won't be when I graduate to more of a urban-utility bicycle.

What about evacuating? Well, I still don't have a good answer for that, not if I have to bring the dog and four cats along, as well as their food.
...
I have been Miss Short-Attention-Span. I web-surf, I try to watch TV (ugh), I page through magazines. It seems a shame that I can't seem to accomplish something—after all, I'm stuck here at home.

I stumbled across an article about the literal dangers of hoarding, which made me feel a bit guilty about my clutter. This was especially poignant as just Saturday, I bagged a bunch of stuff and hid it at the top of the stairs. I want so badly for everything to have its place, and that place to not be a bag at the top of the stairs.

So I did a smidge of decluttering and then had to lie down. Sigh!

So this morning as I was looking for the url of the God, grant me the courage entry, I found this:

I think getting rid of stuff (and buying less to begin with) frees our mind and soul, brings us somehow closer to the essence of living—in some way “stuff” separates us from our true nature, protects us from rich experience, numbs us to the intensity of the world. Overeating, overwatching t.v., overdriving, overworking, overbuying—all serve to cut us off.

—http://www.kipchoge.com/wordpress/2005/10/03/the-fine-art-of-decumulation/

Something to work towards...

permalink October 4, 2005 | Comments (6)

September 30, 2005

bike breakfast

I got back just a little bit ago from having the bike commute challenge breakfast. 10 of the 17 bicyclists came, which I thought was really good. I meant to take a picture of the spread, but as usual, I was so caught up in the preparations that when I finally had a chance to sit down, I forgot about taking pictures. Even in spite of doing most of the shopping and prep last night, I forgot some things, like a knife and cutting board to cut bread, or a knife to cut up apples.

In spite of forgetting some things, the bakery not having some things I wanted, my running late, etc, etc, people seemed really thrilled about the breakfast. They seemed impressed that there was coffee, and OJ. That there was fruit and yogurt and hardboiled eggs (and salt & pepper), as well as scones and rolls and croissants and bread (since there was no baguette or ficelle in the bakery). It was so gratifying, how thrilled they were.

I was afraid it would be me, sitting alone in the room, but everyone came and hung out, talked about our commutes and our challenges, quite happily and excitedly. Several people who didn't bike in today (it's raining, dontchaknow) even brought their bike helmets!

I had approached our HR department about offering some sort of token endorsement, but got no response. I can't say I was surprised, though it really seemed to anger some of my challengers. I ended up spending a pile of money on this, but I feel so good about it. It was worth every penny.
...
So I feel 180 degrees better than yesterday. Today, the fact that someone had gone through my desk, stolen money and a computer, and had strewn my stuff all over the place, seems far away. Or much farther away than yesterday, at least.

The last couple nights, I've been so tired that I haven't remembered my dreams. Or nightmares, since that's all that I'm remembering these days. Now that the adrenaline and coffee is wearing off, I'm feeling pretty worn out. It's been a draining week.

I've been relying heavily on my iP0d this week, and have been stuck on just a couple things. There's a new JuniorSenior song (Taking my Time) that features the ladies from the B52s that I totally cannot get enough of. They (JuniorSenior) somehow manage to incorporate their joyology into a song about dating uncertainity - I don't get it, maybe it's part of not having English as their first language. But I love it.

I've just stumbled on the New Pornographers, and I have become an addict there too. I just got Twin Cinema (dig that IMDB ripoff website!), and I love it. I listen to it over and over again. I just saw the video for Use It this morning and now fragments are crashing around in my head.

There's a song off Liz Phair's new album which is just driving me nuts, Stars and Planets, and a They Might Be Giants song off the Brain Candy soundtrack, and so I just keep cycling through these. I'm bound to get sick of them at some point, but, who knows when.

permalink September 30, 2005 | Comments (2)

September 29, 2005

could I just go back to bed?

Yesterday, my work day imploded. It was just one of those days, a combination of hurry up and wait, my own procrastination catching up with me, and the mistakes of others. I stayed late, and got to my hair appointment late.

Things turned around at the hairdresser's. As usual, she worked wonders with my hair, and did my eyebrows for free. I then went and met up with Sweetie and friends at a new brewpub, and had a couple of beers. We got home late.

This morning, surprise, I didn't want to get up, and I really didn't want to go to work. But I did go to work. I bicycled in, relishing my saddle sore. I have a saddle sore, aren't I lucky? I have to say that while bicycling was nice, it didn't elevate my mood.

And then I got up to my office, and it was ramsacked. I go through phases of being very orderly and phases of having piles of paper everywhere, and I was in the latter phase. Whoever did this was not trying to be subtle. My paperclip tin was emptied on my desk. A birthday card from mom, wide open, my gym clothes all tore apart (ooogh). And the work powerbook is gone.

I found some of a cow-orker's clothing in a recycling bin. That's been it for good.

permalink September 29, 2005 | Comments (3)

September 26, 2005

And now for something completely different...

This weekend was big. I cut my hair, took a walk, and went for a bike ride. Those links will take you to that section if you don't want to suffer through something you don't care for.

Hair
So, Friday, I went to the hairdresser with three options. Keep it long, do a cleopatra bob, or do this short-short cut. She chose the latter and went to work. It's beautiful. Really really short—so much so that a number of acquaintances haven't recognized me.

It was really fun. I like my hairdresser a lot, and trust her implicitly. Her boyfriend came by with the kids, and it was just sweet. Everyone friendly and outgoing, like a party going on in the shop. Loved it!

I got home and immediately got online and saw all the alt-chicks with their bobs, and thought, maybe I did the wrong thing. And then I thought, I'm not an alt-chick. I'm a middle-aged woman. No one is going to mistake me for Bettie Page, and that's fine.

I thought I'd miss playing with my hair, twisting it into a knot on the back of my head, swishing it around. But I don't, at all. If anything, washing my hair is especially pleasurable, as the hair on top of my head feels so thick and luxuriant. And my sweetie can't seem to keep his hands out of my hair.

Walk
I went to PFit on Saturday, albeit late, and did the walk. 7 miles. It seemed like nothing! It was great. It felt so good and there were so many interesting things to look at. I kept up a good pace, and felt just lovely and strong. It was super chilly so I was bundled up, but it was also clear and sunny.

This makes me think that my bad experience of a couple weeks ago was just that—a bad experience. And if I would have just tried it again, I probably could have gotten on track to do Portland. But it is probably good for me to take a bit of a break. And it will be great to work a water station, and maybe, walk someone in.

Oh. And Lance Armstrong gave me a thumbs up.

Am I delusional? I might be. I was coming to the end of my walk, and I had just gotten an excellent photograph of the absolute best bike path stencil in Portland so I was entirely blissed out. I was thrilled too that I had caught up with someone who had started 45 minutes ahead of me as well. So my heart was full to bursting with joy.

And then this guy drove by, in an old Jeep. He looked a lot like Lance Armstrong. In fact, he looked a lot like Lance Armstrong if he was trying to pass as a normal guy. And, he gave me a thumbs up.

I prefer to believe that it was Lance. But, who knows?

Bike
Sunday morning, I met up with the Slug Velo group for their Statuary in September ride. I like this group a lot—it seems to have a good cross-section of normal people and the bike-obsessed, and there's always a kid or two.

This month's ride visited George Washington, Joan of Arc, the moose, the volunteer, Portlandia, Abe Lincoln, Teddy Roosevelt, and Skidmore Fountain, meandering through eastside, from 57th and NE Sandy to the Hawthorne Bridge, then to the Park blocks, and Saturday market.

It's always easier riding with a group, and it's fun too. I chatted with Dale, the recumbent rider, about his bike, and the electric assist I thought he had. He told me a bit about the former electric assist, but I definitely didn't get the impression he liked it.

Another person had an electric assist: in fact, the bike was so new that this was her first ride on it, and she hadn't yet tried the assist. It was really sharp looking and I'm looking forward to learning how it's working out for her. The setback of the rear wheel doesn't look far enough back to support an xtracycle, and I think we all know how xtracycle-obsessed I am. But it seems quite economical.

permalink September 26, 2005 | Comments (4)

September 22, 2005

Riding it out

Okay. Things aren't looking as rosy. Sweetie's brother and family couldn't get out of League City. Sweetie's aunt, frail and living in a flood plain, spent four hours on the road and got 8 miles away today, so everyone is holed up at her house. Sweetie's dad is hanging tough.

I'm so worried about them.

permalink September 22, 2005 | Comments (1)

September 16, 2005

Talk Like a Pirate Day is Monday

Forgive me, all of you. But Monday is Talk like a Pirate Day.

As you can see, there appears to be a correlation between global warming and the number of pirates. While we have Very Important Work to do, perhaps through individual efforts like Talk Like a Pirate Day, we can make a positive, err, I mean negative impact on global warming.

Arrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr!

permalink September 16, 2005 | Comments (1)

September 13, 2005

Random thoughts

I forgot the interesting thing. While riding the bike into work today, I saw a homeless couple having sex.

This would probably be more exciting or illicit if they were trying to be at all clandestine about it. Or exhibitionist. But there it was, like it was the most natural thing in the world.
...
I made the transition from athletic chunky girl to fat woman in my mid-twenties. I was in Germany, not having a particularly good time. When I got back, my cab-driving coworkers kidded me about liking the food there. I didn't really get it, as I really hadn't liked the food there. And then one day, I realized, I'm fat. I don't know, maybe I stood on a scale or got a good look at myself in the mirror, but the realization was like a lightning bolt. I had been reasonably happy with my clumsy body, and then suddenly, it was a shanda.

Low and behold, I had gained 100#. And been largely unaware of it. How on earth?, you might be asking. Believe me, I still ask myself that. I don't know. There was a lot of unpleasantness that had gone on, and I had been otherwise occupied.
...
I am going through a period right now of being obsessed with haircuts. Right now, my hair is shoulder-length, with bangs, but I've become very fixated with cutting it very short. Cheesepuppet went through this a couple of months back.

As usual, it starts so innocently. I've been thinking: does my hair make me look like I'm trying to look young? And the favorite, does my hair look stoopid long? There's also the long hair on a middle-aged woman suggests (in some cases) working-class. One of my coworkers, in her 50s, has grown her hair out—and she looks awful.

Then I see a woman in a cafe with short hair, and it's all I can do to keep myself from walking over and talking to her. It's a very German cut, and no, I can't get more specific than that.

Of course, if I had been smart, I would have talked to her, and I would have taken pictures. But I didn't. And so today on lunch I marched over to the B0rders Public Library to check out hair magazines.

What I learned is: long hair is in. Short hair is not. I'm hopefully going to go to the tobacconist tonight and see what they have in honest-to-g-d German magazines. And then I'll go talk to my hillbilly-punkrawk hairdresser and see what she thinks of this craziness.
...
Oh. And I'm obsessed with two songs. Let me share.

• Nina Gordon: Straight Outta Compton


• A remix of Kanye West's Goldiggers (George Bush Don't Like Black People)

permalink September 13, 2005 | Comments (5)

September 11, 2005

Katrina - real stories

This week's This American Life is about real stories from New Orleans. The show is called After the Flood:

Surprising stories from survivors in New Orleans. Broadcast the weekend of September 9-11 in most places, or available via RealAudio next week.

You must listen to this. It will break your heart.

UPDATE: One Good Move has the segments available online. Thank you Norm!

permalink September 11, 2005

September 9, 2005

stuff as a mirror of self?

I'm sitting on my back porch right now, drinking coffee. It may sound beautific—well, it is—but I just checked work email and am working off and on on work stuff, and just spent the last two hours furiously cleaning house. So it's nice to sit.

Someone is vacuuming out my heat and cold air return ducts. Given that there are only four heat duct outlets, this shouldn't take long—though the ducts are so old, and so narrow, that the duct cleaning guy isn't sure how much he'll be able to do.

He was pretty certain he wouldn't be able to do the upstairs heat duct at all. Of all of them, that's the one I really want done. For the first two winters I lived in this house, I had no heat upstairs. I was superpoor at the time, but I finally asked my handyman to look at that duct and make some recommendations. He pulled two full garbage bags (of dirty diapers and other garbage) out, and suddenly, there was heat upstairs. Unbelievable.
...
I was feeling everything yesterday. And today. I rode the bike into work, and felt like my legs and arms, and even my sternum were made of rubber, taut and strong. I did the Salmon Street Death March over lunch, which kicked my ass. An hour and a half of steep ups, then downs. Must do more hills! And then, riding the bike home the usual way, I felt each pedal stroke in my belly—which was aching from pilates on Tuesday, and scooter riding on Wednesday.

Last night was a mat pilates night that I didn't make. I fell into work, and then there was too much cleaning to be done at home. I keep coming back to the realization: I have too much crap. And I've been slowly working away at it—but I'm impatient with my progress.

Some of it is big stuff, like the exercise bicycle. I don't ride it, it makes too much noise. And now that I'm commuting frequently by bike, the idea of riding a stationary bike in the living room just doesn't sound like that much fun. So do I admit that buying exercise equipment was a failure and unload it? I should, but I haven't, and I just don't want to admit it.

I wonder how much my not wanting to admit my limits has to do with my hording of crap. There are the books that I haven't read, that reflect the person I want to be. The hobbies taken up and abandoned. I try to remind myself that whittling away at my horde allows me to focus on my interests now. It's hard though.

permalink September 9, 2005

August 31, 2005

to do list

I'm still here, though it's been a crazy week. I took Monday off, slept in, did some housecleaning and some walking, which was quite pleasant. And got caught in a thunderstorm. But hey, I had dry clothes at home, what's the big deal, really?

My evenings have been full of must-do stuff, and I'm looking forward to having it all come to a screaching halt tomorrow. There was our favorite BBQ place, LOW, shutting down, then a going away happy hour for Jill, who got pink-slipped, and tonight I meet up with Sara for dinner, and then run to lower east county to pick up a t-shirt. I'm tired just thinking about it.

One of my goals, which is looking less likely to happen, is getting all of alt.portland moved over into Movable Type (by tomorrow). The existing site is static pages, which is bad for two reasons: 1) I end up doing (or in my case, not doing) my editing via telnet or secure shell, using a text editor like vim. I like vim, but the whole setup is not real condusive to the sort of multitasking I do; and 2) there is all this cross-indexing I could do, and want to do, as well as adding some features like maps and bus-routes and photos, and it's increasingly hard to do that with static pages.

I still have Consume and part of Beer left to do. I was hoping to reintroduce it tomorrow, which... ha ha ha!... just isn't looking so likely. But maybe. I still hang onto hope.

I have no problems coming up with new projects for myself. If anything, I need to reign myself in, focus, and not get obsessed with doing so much. A very short-term goal was to walk to the end of my street, about 2 miles. It would be pleasant. Just over a hour of strolling. It'll happen this weekend, but I wish it would happen sooner.

permalink August 31, 2005 | Comments (1)

August 25, 2005

Car costs

Just for kicks and grins, I decided to get a vague idea of what the car costs per mile. Now, I'm not factoring in gas because it's been a moving target, though at current costs ($2.45 a gallon), it's 8 cents a mile—which is much less than I was expecting.

I bought my car for $12K 13 years ago. I put about 7.5K miles on a year. Let's say that the car has a lifespan of 120K, so I have 4 years left. I spend $700 a year on insurance, and $500 on maintenance (I'm sure that's not realistic, but for the sake of coming up with numbers...)

So, over the life of the car, not counting gas, the cost is $32,400. Damn! So, unbelievably, the cost per mile is 27 cents.

Huh?!?

When I bought the car, gas prices were around $1.20 a gallon -- so the cost per mile was 4 cents. If gas prices continue to rise, it would be no surprise to pay 10 cents a mile. So the real cost of driving ranges from 31-37 cents a mile. And that's conservative.

permalink August 25, 2005 | Comments (1)

August 15, 2005

Can fleas live without mammals?

May I just say, I had a spectacular weekend?

Saturday morning, Sweetie got me up for Pfit (4:30 am), and then he went back to bed. I as usual lingered too much, and I just wasn't feeling enthusiastic about going, and I knew I'd get there late, etc. etc. So I didn't go. Looking back, there are plenty of ways I could beat myself up about this: I would have had some social time. Long walks are good for thinking. Here, I'm a walker who doesn't walk. Et cetera.

But in the end, I'm really glad that I had 4 hours to myself. I sat on the backporch with a cup of coffee, watched the dog running around, and petted Daphne, our supersonic outdoor cat. I brought out a book (The Art of Urban Cycling by Robert Hurst, which I've been reading for months), and the powerbook, but didn't end up spending a lot of time with either. Mostly, I just sat on the backporch and drank coffee.

It was cool and breezy and sunny. The neighborhood was silent, other than the sound of the wind in the trees. My neighborhood is many things, but very rarely silent. It was beautiful!

I decided that my weekends need to change. Weekends have become this blur of errands-running. Even when we're doing fun things, it seems like we're constantly in motion, driving or scootering from place to place, one thing after another. Yes, there has to be some errands, but we've made making a day of it an art.

Later in the day, I learned our basement is infested with fleas. How is that possible? Don't fleas need a host? Let's not go there...

permalink August 15, 2005 | Comments (1)

August 5, 2005

Look away

Today will be mostly quotes as I am swimming in crankiness. It's just chemical, but knowing that doesn't help. And the heat isn't helping either. Today it is only supposed to get up to 90. Yesterday, it got up to 96, and it was 75 at midnight. Grumble.

permalink August 5, 2005 | Comments (2)

August 4, 2005

OSCON

Okay, I think that have probably smeared the good name of Tri-Met once too many yesterday. It appears in the evening accident that the bus was a bystander and a F150 was at fault.

Coming in on the aftermath of two accidents in one day just seems like a little much to me.

Today I scootered in. I really wanted to ride the bike, I am so infatuated with that process right now, but I had to face facts that the scooter needs service and today made good sense to bring it in. I also wanted to stop, again, at the Open Source Convention Expo.

Last night I went, but I got there too late to register. This is the first year it's in the convention center, which is to say, it's enormous, or at least it seems double or triple the size of last year. That is something very cool about being there, seeing the mix of guys in geek t-shirts, people dressed as if they were at a sci-fi con, and people dressed as if they were at a job interview. It was quite the party atmosphere—there was an open wine and beer table, as well as a snacky buffet. I browsed the tables, looking for swag, but I didn't pick up much.

Among other things, I just didn't have the energy to schmooze. I had heard that morning that an acquaintance had been laid off, and while high-tech has bounced back, maybe, in Silicon Valley and Seattle, it hasn't really here. Just about every booth was giving away t-shirts, and last year I was filling my OSCON canvas bag with them. But this year, I was more picky. And I just didn't want to go there.

(Last year, too, I had attended some tutorials, so I felt like a real participant. This year, I'm just going to the Expo. Poseur!)

I did end up, however, getting a subscription to Make, and getting an issue and a t-shirt free. The O'Reilly guy was very friendly, and I chatted with him a bit.

I am probably going to go back to the Expo this afternoon, in hopes that the Google booth will be open. What do I want to accomplish there? Nothing really...

permalink August 4, 2005 | Comments (4)

August 3, 2005

from one thing to another

Yesterday, during my dental exam, I suddenly fixated on one image, and was unable to get it out of my head. It was the image... of a coyote curled up on a MAX seat. Like this:

I honestly have no idea how the image became painted on the ceiling of my brain, but it was, and then I was tearing through all my mental clutter trying to figure out where I had seen it. Online wasn't likely. Was it in a zine? We've been on a zine buying spree, me mostly picking up Constant Riders and Urban Adventure League stuff.

After the dentist appointment, I went home and tore through my physical clutter. No luck.

Anyway, here is the story, if you care. [The link now should work, sorry!]

After another medical appointment, I was released to pilates, which was a good hard class. I was the only old timer there—that felt pretty odd. But it was nice to wipe my brain clean of coyotes and other silliness and just work.

Then I ran to my Portland to Coast team meeting. Very interesting. I knew only one person on the team, but they are all very friendly and funny, and I think it will all be fine. They are not taking this very seriously, which is a relief.

And so I finally got home at 10:30, which is super late for me.

This morning, I biked in. The morning was cool, the lights were timed just right for me to just go-go-go! I felt great! I loved looking at the light and the shadows in my neighborhood, the cats, the people walking, other cyclists.

And then I have to go ruin it by riding into the Rose Quarter and seeing the bentup frame of a bicycle in front of a TriMet bus, an ambulance right there, closing up its doors. Oh gosh, seeing something like that makes me sick every time. What happened there?

It's hard to know as it appeared the bus had pushed the bicycle along a few feet.

All day today I've been checking the news sites, and I've seen nothing about it. Hopefully, it's not a fatality, hopefully, it's just a garden variety bike accident. Is there such a thing?

permalink August 3, 2005 | Comments (4)

July 22, 2005

Follette

This morning I am achey and headachey. I'm sure sharing the room with a feline maniac had nothing to do with this. I have never ever seen Follette behave this way. She's everywhere, she's into everything, she is totally behaving like Nigella, our destructobot—except that she appears to only do micro-naps.

I wonder if it's the painkiller, or the anesthesia wearing off, or if she really was in that much pain? And, to cue one of those awful songs from my childhood that gets stuck in my brain, how long has this been going on?

I'm torn between walking and riding. I need to make a decision, quick!

permalink July 22, 2005 | Comments (2)

July 21, 2005

all I want for xmas is my two front teeth

Well, it ended up being seven teeth. She now has five left. And what's even scarier is that it was cheaper than the low-end of the estimate, because all of those teeth just came out.

She now has one fang. One.

Cats are so odd. Follette's forgiven me, she's in love mode, and she is super active right now—much more active than we've seen her. I can only take this to mean that her teeth were hurting her A LOT, and that we somehow weren't getting the message.
...
My glutes were super achey today, I'm sure from my emulation of Jan Ullrich on the climb up to Holladay Drive yesterday. So I had the bright idea today of walking while alternating glute squeezes, and holding in the belly. I walked all over downtown, and I went and sat for awhile, and when I got up to resume walking and squeezing and holding in, my belly started cramping in this insane way which made me concerned that I might not manage to walk back to work. But I did. I'm achey. No pilates tonight, not that the whole sick-cat-taxi-service didn't cut into my time anyways.

permalink July 21, 2005

July 18, 2005

Expensive hobbies

Pets are an expensive hobby. I am reminded of this every time we take one to the vet and write a $200 check. Hell, Costc0 only costs me $100 a visit.

Follette has some badass gum disease. Two teeth will need to come out, and hopefully, a couple can be saved. She has one ugly mouth. You'd never know it from watching her meow. Poor kitty. So, Thursday will be the big day that she will go under the knife, and I'll cough up $1K that I don't really have.

I know good oral hygiene is good for pets. And I'd get more behind it, certainly, if it didn't cost so much. But let's face facts, at $400 for a teeth cleaning, ack.
...
I of course want to go buy expensive things. I've been thinking about replacing my old powerbook, which is beginning to show its age. It no longer enjoys ejecting CDs and DVDs, and everytime it refuses to give up a borrowed platter, I start sweating. Its 10 gig harddrive, once-upon-a-time huge, is now always almost full, and I spend a lot of time pulling things off it, hoping to free up more space.

So, I decided this weekend to call the powerbook store to see what it would cost to take care of these things. $400. That, or I could get somebody's teeth cleaned. At what point do you say, I'm spending bad money after good (or whatever that phrase is. What is that phrase?).
...
It's hotter than hell outside. 91 according to the gadget on my browser. That seems a little cool. I was broasting on the scooter.

Hey, but if you're thinking about doing Bridge Pedal Sunday, August 14th, St@rbucks is offering a coupon for $3 bucks off. Not bad!

How can it already be almost August? How is this possible?

permalink July 18, 2005 | Comments (2)

done, yet to do, and undone

I feel like I've been fairly whiney lately, and I was hoping to not post until I had something positive to say. I don't really, unfortunately. Not feeling that great, not moving that much. I did a little bit of yardwork yesterday, and got totally knocked out by the sun and heat. It's 10am and 83 degrees now. My favorite cat looked up at me this morning and meowed, and there was a big ole bloody spot where her tooth used to be.

I had planned on walking in. Nope. Not this morning.

We did go to the International Beer Fest, and had a lovely time. Drank some really good beer.

We didn't go to the Rally from Hell at all.

I did watch a pile of the Tour though, and seeing George Hincapie win yesterday's stage filled my heart with joy.

And my sweetie has been walking to work, several days last week. I'm so proud of him.

permalink July 18, 2005 | Comments (2)

July 15, 2005

Light

It's been an interesting day so far. We're at the beginning of a warm streak again, so this morning was sunny and warm. I got going early enough to make breakfast and walk in, but my stomach revolted about part way in, so I ended up on the bus.

So I was actually in early again. Soon after my officemate came back from getting coffee, she mentioned seeing another of our coworkers, who pointedly refused to speak to her. So I go down to get coffee, and guess who I run into? I'm expecting I'll also get the cold shoulder, but no. We must have had a 10 minute conversation, very friendly, very nice.

...
I was pretty damn excited about going to Queen Bee yesterday, and the visit lived up to my expectations. Their world headquarters/hive is in industrial SE Portland. I love older industrial areas—for whatever reason, they fascinate me. The camera was running low on batteries, and wasn't very happy about taking pictures, though that didn't stop me. I stopped into their offices, checked out their sale and one-of-a-kinds, and came away with a lotteria belt in avocado (I couldn't believe it—it fit me—beautifully!) and a pink Little Bird Wonder Wallet. I also ordered a Flit handbag.

I just felt jazzed walking out of there. They are doing such cool things there. And in such a cool building!

I just looked at my pictures, and it seems I didn't capture the part that was the most compelling to me. Offices that are on the exterior hall of the building, like Queen Bee, have plaster walls to about hip-high; above that is glass. So the sunlight that comes in through the office windows, the exteriormost part of HQ, pour through the glass wall into their interior hallway, and then into their construction area, and then through glass walls into the hallway that I entered from. I don't know why I'm finding this such an incredibly cool thing right now, but I loved that. So much glass. So much light.

There's a building for sale or lease in NW Portland that I'm totally enamoured of. It has three walls of almost full scale windows, and one side with windows along the roof line. In my mind's eye, I can see a restaurant, with the kitchen area behind glass walls on the mostly solid wall, and the dining room in the windowed area. That way, the light from the kitchen is the light from the dining room and vice versa. There are also huge garage doors—can you see the potential?

I keep trying to figure out how I could make something like that so. Oh my gosh, how cool would that be? I want to live in that sort of space!

permalink July 15, 2005 | Comments (2)

July 14, 2005

Who can trust a people who celebrate a jailbreak?

Margaret Thatcher once said of the French, "Who can trust a people who celebrate, as their national event, a jailbreak?"

Okay, I am decidedly cranky now.

I ended up going over to the restaurant and saw that they had essentially set up a fun fair outside, with people selling lavender, people with info about flights to France and renting a car there, French linens, etc. I saw all this and the zoo around it, and I thought, no thanks. And then I saw the whole roast pig lying on a table. It looked fake, it was so perfect. But it was real. And I thought, no thanks.

So I went inside the restaurant, and was told the only food available were the sandwiches sold out front. Oh, you just go to the tent where they sell the tickets, and then you go to the table and order your sandwich, and then you go to the table where they have the beverages, and then you go and find some place to sit.

Ugh. So after waiting 15 minutes for the ATM, I crossed the street and went to a taco truck, and sat at Forecourt Fountain and ate my lunch.

It's as well that I received such an underwhelming response, as I don't want to drag my coworkers to something like that. But I am feeling hurt and a little bent out of shape about it.

But, there is a bright spot. I'm going to Queen Bee, the makers of my new beloved purse, this afternoon. And, I'm going to the Internation Beer Festival, early, before it becomes a zoo, tomorrow.

permalink July 14, 2005 | Comments (2)

Joyeux Fête Nationale de France!

Hey everybody, it's 14 juillet! Wuhoo!

I have this attachment to Bastille Day that I can't explain. I really like the idea of it. So, this morning, I watched the Tour and was pleased to see a Frenchman win today's stage. I've invited seven of my coworkers to lunch and have heard from 3 of them. Sigh. Looks like A) it's not a priority and B) I'll be lunching alone. Oh well, like I care. I do, but I don't mind eating alone.

Last night we checked out a new comfort shoe store and bought two pairs of really cute shoes. I'm testing one of the pairs out today and they seem to be winners. But the best part was buying a new purse. It is so damn cute, and cool, and locally made! I immediately came home and checked out their web site, and then wrote them to see if I could come by and check out their seconds, one-of-a-kinds, and sale items. I'm going to call them in a little bit—I'm so excited! Like a little kid!

I had big plans of walking in this morning, but my body wasn't cooperating. So I took the bus. Not too terribly exciting, but I really wanted to get in on time, and be able to get home early this afternoon so I can get to mat pilates. Finally.

...

In other words, if you don't really know when you're off track, you don't have a viable directive. The question "How will I know when this is off-purpose?" must have a clear answer.

—David Allen, Getting Things DONE

I don't know what I want. I mean, I have some general ideas, but ugh—the big picture is dauntingly cloudy. I know that as long as I don't know what I want, I'm drifting, and out of control. What to do?

permalink July 14, 2005 | Comments (2)

July 11, 2005

My new raised bed!

The raised bed begins.

First with a layer of cardboard and newspaper. Then landscape cloth. And then, the strawbales.

Phase two will be adding additional newspapers to block weed growth where they didn't end up, or where they got moved, then adding a thick layer of barkdust.

Phase three is adding gravel to the bottom, then yard soil (from the sideyard, where we're putting down pavers, then amended potting soil. And then plants!

permalink July 11, 2005 | Comments (7)

Sunday

Yesterday was a day of super productivity! I went through half the drawers in the bedroom and got rid of half the stuff! I then started washing stuff—laundry, dishes, animals that got in the way. It was great!

After brunch, I stopped by the finish line of STP (that's Seattle to Portland, a bike event involving 8000 cyclists and over 200 miles [30 of those uphill]). I am so throughly proud of people who can do this sort of thing, and I hope someday to join their ranks.

Though, to be honest, it was all a bit daunting. The crowd was overwhelmingly male and overwhelmingly expensive bike and expensive bike clothes, and of course, overwhelmingly bike physiqued. So I wandered around, the fat lady wearing an empire-waist dress (wu, way to look unattractive, VJ!), enjoying looking at the tents and cyclists and stuff.

A ride down Hawthorne revealed a painted outline where a pedestrian was hit and killed last week. There have been 8 pedestrian and bicyclist fatalities in Portland this year, and the last couple weeks have been bad: a bike messenger downtown, a cyclist crossing a street to ride on the Springwater corridor, and now this visiting pedestrian. I was glad someone had stenciled the spot, but I admit, I learn about these things and part of me just never wants to leave the house again.

Anyways. Then in the evening, Sweetie and I put together the spot for the strawbale raised bed. I've even taken a picture, which if I can ever get it out of my camera, I'll post. Exciting stuff!

permalink July 11, 2005 | Comments (2)

July 2, 2005

Myths Over Miami

This is an incredible story. It has nothing to do with exercise or transportation or Portland.

Captured on South Beach, Satan later escaped. His demons and the horrible Bloody Mary are now killing people. God has fled. Avenging angels hide out in the Everglades. And other tales from children in Dade's homeless shelters.
By Lynda Edwards
Published: Thursday, June 5, 1997

http://www.miaminewtimes.com/issues/1997-06-05/feature_1.html

permalink July 2, 2005

guilt and general not feeling well

I've missed PFit again. Sigh. Heartburn last night, again, and thus I feel like run-over crap this morning. I should have just gone, and done the twenty minute rule (do I still feel bad after twenty minutes?), because usually once I get started, I do feel better. But I guess I didn't even have the shovel this morning to dig in and get it done.

Maybe part of it is my feeling that my coaches think I'm not doing enough. Hell, I think I'm not doing enough too. The time I went out to coffee after missing PFit and the chilly reception I got from my coach just made me think—why am I bothering? I watch the boards, I try to be helpful there, I do the set-up and take down. When I'm there.

In the end, I can't base doing this on externals. Who cares what the coaches think? I want to be there. And I want to not feel shitty. As a combo.

permalink July 2, 2005 | Comments (2)

July 1, 2005

Poop!

It's been kind of a weird 24 hours. I went into therapy happy, and came out weepy. I came back to work and was tremendously productive. Then I rode my bicycle the three blocks to the MAX, to take the train up to my neighborhood, since I have such a short window between work and pilates.

I learned something. While my bike fits nicely on the bus racks, taking it on the MAX is another altogether. It's simply too long. If I hang it from the ceiling hook, the chrome fender is rubbing the ground. If I try to gracefully take it down so I can leave the train, it requires everyone around me to change positions.

I had a nice conversation on the train though, and a pleasant ride back to the house. I put the bike in the shed, and thought—I should get the scooter out, so I can just run in the house, change into my workout gear, and scoot?

I learned something. One, the scooter is really long. (Is this a trend?). Backing it out of the shed is treacherous. I don't know if some motorcycles have a reverse gear, but my scooter doesn't. So, I straddle-walk the 350# behemoth behind me, down a ramp, and past the car. Except, I don't have the angle right, and the scooter's exhaust is right up against the car's front bumper.

I couldn't go forward, because I couldn't push the bike up the ramp. I didn't have my scooter keys, because I only bring the keys I need. If I had had my keys, I could have turned it on, and driven it back up. But I didn't. I was stuck at a 90 degree angle, one side up against the car, holding the damn scoot up. No one was home. None of my neighbors were outside. I was, as we say, screwed.

So I did the only thing I could think to do. I laid the scooter down. Mind you, you never ever ever want to have a motorcycle on its side. The life fluids of the machine can easily drain out. Just add a cigarette and you'll have an big explosion. Or not.

I ran into the house and grabbed my car keys, moved my car, and lifted the motorcycle back up. I didn't even think about its weight or my form—I just did it. So it was on its left side for maybe 2 minutes, probably less.

I then ran back into the house and called the scooter shop. Rob picked up the phone and held my hand. I told him what happened, he asked questions, told me what I should try, and said that most likely it was going to be fine, and if it's not, to call back.

So I went out and checked the tiny rivulet of fluid. It was already dry, and I couldn't smell anything. So, I tried starting the scooter. It was flooded. While I figured this probably wasn't a big deal rationally, it felt like a huge deal. And I needed to have gotten to pilates ten minutes ago!

So I drove to pilates, all the while wondering if I had completely screwed up my scooter, and why didn't I insist on pursuing the garage idea rather than a shed?

Pilates was good. Hard. Lots of making perfect little circles. The woman who had instructed the ball class was there, and seemed bored all through it. I can't imagine being bored. Even on the exercises where I can do an entire set, it's work, hello!!

Jill and I chatted a little bit, then I went over to the Salvadorian tacqueria to pick up some pupusas. I had never been in, so I was pleased to see that the place was packed full of people. I ordered and then sat down and watched the telenovela on the TV on top of the fridge. There's something about men acting agressive and women acting catty and looking very european and expensive that is very satisfying. I also listened in on a conversation at an ajoining table.

The table had seven women, all reasonably young moms, most with infants in tow. They were having a great time, and I was loving the spanglish, how conversations went from spanish to english to spanish to spanglish effortlessly. I really wanted to join them. If only I spoke spanish!

I collected the pupusas and came home. Sweetie had started up the scooter -- it was running fine. And he had had a tuneup, with new tires, taillight and rack added on his scooter, and he said it handles 100% better. I can't wait to try it out.

So in the end, we had a nice evening. We ate the pupusas, which were really good, and watched some awful TV, and hung out with the animals.

I was hoping to spring out of bed like I did yesterday, but no. And then I found that my beloved dog had pooped by the backdoor. Lovely.

We have the strangest dog. We don't walk him very often because he becomes a nervous wreck, so we usually just let him out into the back yard. Very infrequently, he will just run out and poop, on his own, but most of the time, you have to tell him to poop, and make sure that he poops. Yes, we have a dog that poops on command, sorta.

But if you just let him outside and you don't make sure he poops, well, maybe he won't.

This is the second poop by the door incident. And it might not be the dog. It might be the world's largest cat poop. Yeah, right.

So I decided to do 15 minutes of my favorite form of gardening, killing weeds. My backyard butterfly bush is completely covered with blackberry and clematis, so I set out to kill a small section of it. And it was a small section, but so thoroughly satisfying to make it so.

I rode the scooter in—no problems. Hurrah! And the weekend looms. I'm looking so forward to some free time, some walking, some scooting, and a race!

permalink July 1, 2005 | Comments (3)

June 29, 2005

Scattered

Heaven knows, I'm trying. I'm trying, dammit!!

I'm trying to have a good day. The supports are there. So why isn't it working??

Last night I had an awful headache from work, but I made myself go to mat pilates, which was a really good idea. It ended up being a class of 4, and we worked on doing things slowly and precisely. My belly aches this morning, though I don't have the all over ache that I had after the ball class. I need more of that.

This morning, I had this feeling of being a bit bummed out even before I left for work. Part of it, of course, was my inability to get moving in a timely fashion. I had this pang of nostalgia for when Sweetie and I used to go in together to work. And I was guaranteed to get in early, to have time to go to the gym. Now, I fend for myself, which means I get nowhere fast.

It's not something he and I have talked about, though it's probably a huge relief for him to not have to cattle-prod me through the morning regime. But I miss it.
....
Okay, I just got back from lunch with Sweetie and some therapeutic yarn buying. I feel better.

Anyways, this morning I rode the bicycle in, which is always a pleasure, and I also wore my heart rate watch, which has a timer function. I was going to get to the bottom of this and see if the times between scooting and cycling were comparable or not. Yeah!

I'm riding in, and as usual I look in the church parking lot to see if Sara's car is there. Hey, it is. And, hey, there's Sara, so I stop and we chat. I get a few blocks away and realize—I didn't stop the timer. Oh well. I probably spent 5 minutes chatting.

The rest of the ride in is unremarkable, except that I make it to my garage in 18:58 minutes according to the bike computer. Wuhoo! Speed demon! If I keep improving at this rate, why, in two years I'll just have to get on the bike to be at work!

I get up to my desk, and there's a small crisis, naturally, which I take care of, and later, I realize that I never turned off the timer! 38:24. Oh well, so much for data collection.

It was about that time that I also realize that I forgot my wallet. It's in my motorcycle hoodie, hanging from the coat tree in the dining room. Sigh!

I'm so sick of being so scattered. On Monday, I gave a guy directions to get to Powells Bookstore as if we were on the 14 Hawthorne bus. Unfortunately, we were on the 6 MLK. Lucky for this guy, somebody else jumped in and said, this bus isn't going to Burnside, it's going to PSU! Ooops.

I'm looking forward to the weekend. And yard work. Hopefully tonight, I can do some vicious plant killing, some straw-bale-raised bed building, and, some finding of the butterfly bush, which is currently covered with blackberry. The thought of killing blackberries sounds very good indeed!

permalink June 29, 2005 | Comments (3)

June 28, 2005

grumble

Today has just been one of those days. I didn't even see it coming.

I rode in this morning and made it in record time -- just short of 19 minutes! I also learned that the timer stops when the bicycle stops, so, ummm, is this bike really any faster than the last? Not that it matters, I like this one so much better, but, you know, data is data.

So I was happy and calm and all that this morning, and then I started working, and then everything went straight downhill. I spent my lunch doing retail therapy... but what else are you supposed to do when you start work at 7:30, and you get your lunch at 2:30, exactly?

I have a headache, and I'd just like to shave my head. I can't let myself make important decisions like hair when I'm in such a mood.

permalink June 28, 2005 | Comments (3)

June 24, 2005

Twarted

Last night, my sweetie made me a burger. Oh! Burgers at home are so good, so superlative, so absolutely wonderful, and even the best burger out can't compare. Last night, we had avocado on them. Avocado!!

Then, I scooted to pilates. Except, our instructor had gotten a sub, so it was ball class. It seems that the majority of us didn't come on Tuesday, so none of us knew it would be ball class, and we all privately grumbled that we would have stayed home or gone home if we had known. Still, the instructor was very nice, and very good, and both verbalized and demonstrated the exercises.

It was hard! My balance, while greatly improved, still sucks, so, everything had this new degree of difficulty. But that was good, and at the end, I really felt well worked. I feel like I'm more a part of the group now. Slowly, I am learning names. Slowly, I'm hearing personal stories. Yay! And today, many parts of me are achy.
...
So, I am still on the must-de-asthma-ify-the-house campaign. This morning's act was to take apart the living room aircleaner to clean out the filter, which according to the indicator was dirty. It took a few minutes to actually even find the door on the aircleaner, and then once it was found, it took another few minutes to open it. Would it be so hard to design in a little grip for users, so it would be clear where and how to open the device?—afterall, they are, hopefully, going to clean the filters.

So, I get the door open, and I find the filter easily. Great. There are no instructions on how to clean said filter. Hmmm. How hard would it be to have something on the inside of the device, where the user could read it, that would say how to clean the filter?

So, I go looking for the manual. I look through common piles, through my stuff, through Sweetie's. No luck. Hmmm. I even look in the manual file. No luck.

Oh, says me, silly girl, everything is online now. I just need to look on the web. So I go over to the airfilter, and marvel at the fact that it has no brandnames on it. There's an IFD logo, there's a HEPA thing, but nothing about the brand, or heavens forbid, model number. Grumble!!!

How hard can this be, really? Well, it seems, impossible. I looked at Honeywell's site, and all I could find there were Whole House Solutions. At-at-at-hhhhmm! (That would be the sound of me clearing my throat) That's nice, but hows about the whole room solution that I spent $200 for?

And, I can't let this damn thing go. Now I'm at work, and I checked the home despot web site, and there it is, and it's manufactured by a company I've never heard of, and so I go to their site, and their site is also infuriating, and it appears they don't have any documentation for my model. Sigh!

The home despot web site, though, is good. Categories, a search engine, lots of overlap—I was able to find what I wanted quickly and easily. Now, why don't they have manuals?
...
Today I'm feeling more relaxed, but I'm still in the middle of a panic attack. We (my and my med advisor) decided to ride this out a bit, and see if it improves on its own, but I'm wondering if that is a good idea, really. I'm totally unable to concentrate. And since lately these have almost only been happening while I'm at work, well...

Before I started with the panic attack this morning, my belly was very upset, as if to say, VJ, you may think you're the picture of serenity, but actually... NOT! When is all of this going to end?

I was able to finally leave the house and get on the bike. This morning was the best ride yet. The vast, vast majority of it was done in speed 3, the hardest speed, and it felt great. It felt easy, even. I don't think I saw the speedometer drop beneath 10 mph unless I was stopped at a light or a stopsign. It was just tremendously pleasurable to be riding this morning. Maybe this is the practice thing that I've heard so much about it?

My coworkers are so sweet—they bought me a bottle of pink nailpolish. Which perfectly matches the bike! I tend to like loud, dark colors for nail polish, but I have to admit that I really like this alot. I was planning to take a picture of it, you know, fingernails on bicycle, but I had to find the camera. I think the cats didn't want any more pictures taken of them, or perhaps the dog was jealous—all I know is that the camera had been on the table, and now, it was nowhere to be seen.

So I found the camera. It was about halfway under the couch. It had to be the dog.

So I got it out, and put it on the couch, with my other stuff for work. Left the room for a few minutes. And once I had gotten dressed and was packing my satchel, I realized that the camera was gone again. This time, I had some momentum, and I couldn't let myself fall into another game of let's find where the camera is now!. So there it stands. My documentation has been twarted. Again.

permalink June 24, 2005 | Comments (3)

June 23, 2005

Poor Zoe!

I just have to hold on. Today, and tomorrow, and then it's the weekend.

I'm relieved, really, to have an appointment today with my meds consultant. Exercise seems to be a good stress-release, but only for about as long as I'm doing it. The fact that I'm having these rolling panic attacks, well, I'm hoping something can be done, short of me jumping into the Willamette. After all, the Willamette is filthy.

I decided today to do an experient. I scooted to work, and I timed it. I came in early today, so I was battling less traffic. 14 minutes to get to the garage, and parked. 6 minutes to walk to work. So, 20 minutes. Within 30 seconds of how long it takes me to bike to work.

Scooting is fun, heavens knows, but bicycling is exercise and fun and (the way I do it, it's) silly. I'm pretty sure it's faster than taking the bus, too, though on the bus I get to read or knit.

...
Last night we had some excitement. We were watching TV, us and the dog and the three cats, all piled on the couch, and I heard something rattle on the front porch. We had our windows open, and there are lots of dead leaves on the porch that I need to get rid of. I'm looking out the window, thinking, is it a rat? is it a cat? And suddenly our neighbors' pitbull's head pops up in the window.

Zoe, said pitbull, is full-grown, but tiny, about the size of a Jack Russell, except built like a football player. She is just a wiggling happy pile of love, and she's so homely that she's cute, and she seems to adore us, because she's over in our yard all the time. It worries me that Zoe's owner is so relaxed about her being loose. We live on a fairly busy street, in a neighborhood where loose pitbulls are usually something you want to stay away from. And, we do have neighbors who have an equally lax view of keeping their dogs contained, and their dogs are mean!

So Sweetie, who has shoes on, goes to take Zoe back home, as we always do. I'm like, honey, you're recovering don't do that!, because he'll spend the next half-hour trying to get back to normal breathing, but he's out the door before I can stop him. And all of the sudden, I hear the sounds of a dog fight. Oh, good.

I run outside, and sure enough, a loose dog that was being walked, twice or three times Zoe's size, is attacking her. There's still no sign of Zoe's person, though the guys with the bigger dog manage to pull him off, and Sweetie picks up Zoe and takes her to the house. Zoe's person is all, gosh, thank you, and I'm thinking to myself, you've got to contain your dog.

Poor Zoe!

permalink June 23, 2005 | Comments (4)

June 22, 2005

bzzzzz (the sound of tension)

I'm gonna to try to keep this short, as the day is full of stuff, and I'm in the midst of a mild panic attack. Sigh.

I am a bit freaked out about the amount of work at work. And the fact that we are really overbudget. In the shower, my free floating anxiety began to extend to fitness. I was overwhelmed with the feeling that I'm a fraud. Here, I write this blog, theoretically about fitness, and here I am, blowing off mat pilates, walking erratically, never going to the gym...

I had to sit myself down and have a stern talk. Self: you're in the middle of a big pile of stress. Now is not the time to freak out about fitness. And it's not like you're doing nothing, you're just not doing as much as you have in the past. Is that such a bad thing? And really, I think—fitness is the scapegoat. Not the issue.
...
I rode the bike home last night. It was not as beatic as it was last time—it felt like work, some of the way.And okay, some of the way. I did stop, but only to take a picture! It will all get better. Practice, practice.

It only took me 23 minutes to get home (!), compared to 45 on the other bike. But since I had left work late, I was officially running late. I had a snack and tried to get ready to go to mat pilates, but it felt like a thousand and one things were holding me back. Like, feeling exhausted. My poor sweetie has been having almost constant coughing fits at night, and while I do manage to sleep through a lot of them, I don't sleep that great.

So I didn't go.
...
The highlight of this morning was vacuuming. I vacuumed the living room again. It looks great. This is frightening. This is not like me.

In my own defense, I wanted to pick up as much of the cat hair and dust as I could, as Sweetie is staying home today, trying to rest and recover from this awful asthma attack. Last night he managed to sleep hard for about 4 or 5 hours, with no coughing fits.

I also spent about a half hour combing Nigella. She wasn't very happy about it, and part of my calf is swollen from where she laid in her claws. But she's shedding her undercoat at a furious clip, and so I was able to collect a kitten-sized ball of fur all clumped together. Afterwards, I felt like I needed to be combed, and I had that horrible sensation of hair sticking to my face (ououough!)

The lowlight of the morning was losing my wallet. I was already late for work, and stressed about everything possible. The morning's migas were really hanging heavy in my belly. I went to put my wallet in my pocket so I could show my bus pass to the bus driver, and—no wallet.

I look in my purse. No wallet. I look in the usual places, the bookshelf in the hallway, the kitchen counter, the back bar, the dining room table. No wallet. Migas demand a quick exit. I think, maybe it's here in the bathroom. No. Maybe it's in the pocket of the dress I wore yesterday. No.

And then, I can see it in my mind's eye. I have a bad habit of leaving it on my desk. No doubt, it's on top of a pile of papers, in plain sight. I wonder if it's still there. That was a stupid thing to do, Vicki. Sheesh.

I make peace with the idea, and I ask Sweetie if I can borrow a little cash. I decide to take apart my purse one more time before I leave. I check each of the pockets. No wallet. I pull out my clear knitting bag, filled with the silver scarf and yarn.

When did you last get out your wallet?, Sweetie asks. I think about it. There was the coffee shop. Umm, and looking at the gas receipts for the scooter (looks like 55mpg right now), and upcoming appointments. Damn, I can just see that wallet sit