Or maybe
"Addendum"
I whined about my desk job in real-time yesterday to an old friend and was reminded that I had a teaching job a while ago and didn't that involve hours of desk time...maybe to fall asleep over the paperwork I should have been doing at the end of the day...but I was actually one of those teachers my 7th graders (especially note passers) always hated, I taught from everywhere in the classroom. I was always standing and pacing and walking around and it is so not a mystery to me how I could eat ANYTHING and still keep my weight under control then, you know? Besides that whole not owning a car and biking/walking everywhere deal.
And yes, I made it through the day...but you could hear it in my voice at 4PM (as I was packing my bag and took one last phone call) that I was too tired to continue...
It was too late to nap...so I helped make dinner, and then I crashed, oh yeah, hard. When 3:30 AM rolled around today (oh yes, it happened again) I'd had about 6 hours of sleep...but hurray! I was able to convince myself to go back to sleep by 4AM! For at least another hour!
I hope this not-sleeping through the night thing goes away soon.
Tuesday, September 30, 2008
Monday, September 29, 2008
Monday Non-Sequetors.../Bullet-point Posting
- No, your eyes are not deceiving you, it is indeed 4 in the AM and I'm awake and blogging about not being asleep. This must be the opposite to that whole "can't wake up" problem I was having last month. The universe has a weird/nasty/evil way of averaging everything out, it would seem. But yeah, 3 AM rolled around and BAM! Wide awake. Oh what fun.
- Thanks to all the headache-well-wishers! I am so thankful it was a Friday and the office is not-so-busy then and maybe I scared off a whole lot of possible queries with the absolutely gruesome look on my face. I now understand that whole "Miss looks angry" whisper my students had about me...I caught a glimpse of it as I went into the bathroom. It was a total, "DUDE! Is that really what I look like!" Moment. The crescendo of the throbbing and aching was at about quitting time though. I want to blame the weather, but WE HAD SUN that afternoon and as miserable as I felt, I thought I could happily suffer if I could just feel a ray of afternoon sun on my arm one last time before the cloudiness of winter hit us...
- Yes, it's happened. I've started appreciating that great ball of gas that burns me within minutes of my going outside, that has given me too many freckles as well as early wrinkles (2 years on a sailboat/4 years in the tropics is so not good for your complexion, le'me tell ya'). It was a sunny, crisp day yesterday but the brightness and the colors...I was so happy! I'm told winter will be back by Friday.
- Mental note to self: Find out the UW football schedule. It will make for easier decisions as to which grocery store to go to. I felt like WWIII had hit and I was the last to know, standing in the bread section of the store, shelves almost completely empty, people scurrying everywhere, grocers rushing around trying to restock fruits and cheeses and the longest line in the world in front of the deli counter.
-It made for an easy-time going out to dinner in Fremont though! The streets were EMPTY. The restaurant wait was so minimal we'd hardly started sipping at our fru fru drinks in the "over 21" section. Yep, knowing when the home games are might make for easier weekends.
- Andy has started looking out for you all...I have this knack for giving away knitted things without photographic proof of their ever existing. Not that I need a picture to prove to myself it happened...not when I've marked up a pattern within an inch of it's life. But when it's baby socks I created from scratch? As my friends' baby modeled them for the first (and only...) time, Andy snapped a picture with his itoy. If it weren't 4:30 AM I'd be asking for a copy to post right now...
- No, LLB (L&L's Baby) is not allergic to wool...she just grew faster than I anticipated. The good thing is that it her feet are only a half an inch longer than they used to be and I'd made the socks bigger than I thought I had. Hence her ability to wear them, once :). The joy about baby socks though is that they are SO SMALL! I can whip another pair out in a couple of hours! (Okay, yeah, this is me we're talking about so more like days...the theory remains the same, smaller socks on US1 needles are WAY easier than say socks for her dad.) I'll post about them as soon as I can. I also have a hat and a couple adult pairs of socks to show off...yeah, maybe I've been a little busy lately. Which leads me to...
- Sitting on my ass all day is not conducive to my happiness...unless knitting is involved. This accounting job is pretty much my first desk job, EVER. I mean, yeah, I've had jobs that required desk time and computer work, but you were also scouring bookshelves for patrons, pulling government documents to verify the data entry, filing patient charts and showing them to their rooms. I've never sat in front of a computer for four-hour stretches staring at spreadsheets and dealing with mystery invoices. What with my recent injuries, it seems that if I don't move every ten minutes my joints become fused. Yes, I AM that lady that took FOR-EV-ER to get up and move out of the table you were waiting for. Dinner with friends at a crowded restaurant is not the best place to keep getting up to stretch, afterall.
Hmmm, 5:09 and all is well...I think I'll go get ready for work. If I go in early enough I might be able to sneak out before I totally crash. Four hours of sleep is so not helpful to my or my coworkers' sanity.
- Thanks to all the headache-well-wishers! I am so thankful it was a Friday and the office is not-so-busy then and maybe I scared off a whole lot of possible queries with the absolutely gruesome look on my face. I now understand that whole "Miss looks angry" whisper my students had about me...I caught a glimpse of it as I went into the bathroom. It was a total, "DUDE! Is that really what I look like!" Moment. The crescendo of the throbbing and aching was at about quitting time though. I want to blame the weather, but WE HAD SUN that afternoon and as miserable as I felt, I thought I could happily suffer if I could just feel a ray of afternoon sun on my arm one last time before the cloudiness of winter hit us...
- Yes, it's happened. I've started appreciating that great ball of gas that burns me within minutes of my going outside, that has given me too many freckles as well as early wrinkles (2 years on a sailboat/4 years in the tropics is so not good for your complexion, le'me tell ya'). It was a sunny, crisp day yesterday but the brightness and the colors...I was so happy! I'm told winter will be back by Friday.
- Mental note to self: Find out the UW football schedule. It will make for easier decisions as to which grocery store to go to. I felt like WWIII had hit and I was the last to know, standing in the bread section of the store, shelves almost completely empty, people scurrying everywhere, grocers rushing around trying to restock fruits and cheeses and the longest line in the world in front of the deli counter.
-It made for an easy-time going out to dinner in Fremont though! The streets were EMPTY. The restaurant wait was so minimal we'd hardly started sipping at our fru fru drinks in the "over 21" section. Yep, knowing when the home games are might make for easier weekends.
- Andy has started looking out for you all...I have this knack for giving away knitted things without photographic proof of their ever existing. Not that I need a picture to prove to myself it happened...not when I've marked up a pattern within an inch of it's life. But when it's baby socks I created from scratch? As my friends' baby modeled them for the first (and only...) time, Andy snapped a picture with his itoy. If it weren't 4:30 AM I'd be asking for a copy to post right now...
- No, LLB (L&L's Baby) is not allergic to wool...she just grew faster than I anticipated. The good thing is that it her feet are only a half an inch longer than they used to be and I'd made the socks bigger than I thought I had. Hence her ability to wear them, once :). The joy about baby socks though is that they are SO SMALL! I can whip another pair out in a couple of hours! (Okay, yeah, this is me we're talking about so more like days...the theory remains the same, smaller socks on US1 needles are WAY easier than say socks for her dad.) I'll post about them as soon as I can. I also have a hat and a couple adult pairs of socks to show off...yeah, maybe I've been a little busy lately. Which leads me to...
- Sitting on my ass all day is not conducive to my happiness...unless knitting is involved. This accounting job is pretty much my first desk job, EVER. I mean, yeah, I've had jobs that required desk time and computer work, but you were also scouring bookshelves for patrons, pulling government documents to verify the data entry, filing patient charts and showing them to their rooms. I've never sat in front of a computer for four-hour stretches staring at spreadsheets and dealing with mystery invoices. What with my recent injuries, it seems that if I don't move every ten minutes my joints become fused. Yes, I AM that lady that took FOR-EV-ER to get up and move out of the table you were waiting for. Dinner with friends at a crowded restaurant is not the best place to keep getting up to stretch, afterall.
Hmmm, 5:09 and all is well...I think I'll go get ready for work. If I go in early enough I might be able to sneak out before I totally crash. Four hours of sleep is so not helpful to my or my coworkers' sanity.
Friday, September 26, 2008
Headache Mutterings
I need a vacation from my body. I feel like I'm in a very bad relationship, WITH MYSELF.
Okay, so you all know there must be something seriously wrong with me that I'm blogging during a headache of increasingly massive proportions...you know the kind that strikes behind your left eye and the only relief is either pressure on the eye (which will break off more cones and rods and cause more of those damned floaty things when you least need them to be there) or squinting a la Popeye and don't you feel so sexy and cool doing that? But yeah, I had to share.
So here's the thing, I am admitting defeat to the universe:
Fine, I am hurt far worse than I wanted to admit. So you can stop with the damp cold mornings that make my right side feel like I've been kicked all night! That make my shoulders feel like I've been carrying the world on them for far too long! That make my sinuses go screwy and make my teeth hurt!
I am not invincible.
(SIGH.)
What's super crazy is that I went out an bought myself a Costco-sized bottle of Naproxen Sodium and took one of those horse-pills this morning as my right side did not want to cooperate for neither love nor money (I tell ya' BAD relationship).
So as I arrive at work and am noticing, yeah, hey, I can get out of the car and the "rocks in the joints" feeling is almost gone...I notice the headache I've had all along. No really, I knew it was there, but I always have a headache, it is so much a part of me I rarely notice them until my eyes and sinuses come into play. But dude, my body hurt so much that I couldn't even TELL I had such a massive headache until the pains started to settle down...
Dude, my body hateses me.
Here is a picture Andy sent me from his iPhone back when there was still sun out...I miss the sun.
For all you non-Seattleites, that space needle is just visible on the right-hand side. This would be the park I live 1 block away from. But no jealousy please, it's not like this is my view...I get to stare at the UW lab that is "touching" distance from my HUGE picture window. Seriously now, they do not need to see me as much as I don't need to see them. Someone in planning better have been fired.
Okay, so you all know there must be something seriously wrong with me that I'm blogging during a headache of increasingly massive proportions...you know the kind that strikes behind your left eye and the only relief is either pressure on the eye (which will break off more cones and rods and cause more of those damned floaty things when you least need them to be there) or squinting a la Popeye and don't you feel so sexy and cool doing that? But yeah, I had to share.
So here's the thing, I am admitting defeat to the universe:
Fine, I am hurt far worse than I wanted to admit. So you can stop with the damp cold mornings that make my right side feel like I've been kicked all night! That make my shoulders feel like I've been carrying the world on them for far too long! That make my sinuses go screwy and make my teeth hurt!
I am not invincible.
(SIGH.)
What's super crazy is that I went out an bought myself a Costco-sized bottle of Naproxen Sodium and took one of those horse-pills this morning as my right side did not want to cooperate for neither love nor money (I tell ya' BAD relationship).
So as I arrive at work and am noticing, yeah, hey, I can get out of the car and the "rocks in the joints" feeling is almost gone...I notice the headache I've had all along. No really, I knew it was there, but I always have a headache, it is so much a part of me I rarely notice them until my eyes and sinuses come into play. But dude, my body hurt so much that I couldn't even TELL I had such a massive headache until the pains started to settle down...
Dude, my body hateses me.
Here is a picture Andy sent me from his iPhone back when there was still sun out...I miss the sun.
For all you non-Seattleites, that space needle is just visible on the right-hand side. This would be the park I live 1 block away from. But no jealousy please, it's not like this is my view...I get to stare at the UW lab that is "touching" distance from my HUGE picture window. Seriously now, they do not need to see me as much as I don't need to see them. Someone in planning better have been fired.
Tuesday, September 23, 2008
So Out of It
I have all these plans for posts and updates and such...and they just aren't happening.
I have the lamest of excuses for today, at least...the batteries in Andy's camera are dead.
We go to Costco once in a million years for such staples as sugar, coffee, and of course TP, but we just never remember such silly things as BATTERIES for all the power-hungry devices that seem to abound in the apartment.
"So what about your fancy new military-grade phone with the camera?" You say? Derher, (in my best WB B-Bunny embarrassed voice) I forgotted to charge it and it is dead this one morning when I am up early enough to play with picture-taking and a couple things I wanted to document before I lose the notes I used to make them...
I am so good like that.
Aside from all this techno-lameness...I can't seem to get my act together enough lately to reply to emails, much less post something that is not whining or ranting or excuses...I think it's that time of year...or maybe the sun sucked out my brain.
See, Friday? Winter arrived. Seriously we went from 80 degrees and sunny to 60 and overcast. It kinda threw me. Saturday it POURED. Sunday I got my "traveler's cold." You know, when you go visit home/abroad/someplace else and on the third day you feel not-so-well and maybe a little sniffly and it's because your body is like "CURSE YOU FOR MAKING ME LEAVE HOME!" or something?
Yeah, only I hadn't gone anywhere. I shared with Andy the feeling that we'd been magically transported from like Hawai'i (seriously, we were having AWESOME weather) to Mordor ("It's still dark, Sam. It's always dark here, sir.") and he agreed with my "We're not in Kansas anymore" feeling.
We'd been sucked into the twilight zone. I wish.
Whatever magical weather we'd been having is gone gone gone and it took my ability to cope and get well and be organized with it...cuz lord do my joints ache and remember that little bicycle accident I just had??? Right. Cold weather is not conducive to healing. Make a note.
Urgh...all I want to do is sleep...I think I was a bear (or a hamster) in a past life...hibernation is such the way to go.
I have the lamest of excuses for today, at least...the batteries in Andy's camera are dead.
We go to Costco once in a million years for such staples as sugar, coffee, and of course TP, but we just never remember such silly things as BATTERIES for all the power-hungry devices that seem to abound in the apartment.
"So what about your fancy new military-grade phone with the camera?" You say? Derher, (in my best WB B-Bunny embarrassed voice) I forgotted to charge it and it is dead this one morning when I am up early enough to play with picture-taking and a couple things I wanted to document before I lose the notes I used to make them...
I am so good like that.
Aside from all this techno-lameness...I can't seem to get my act together enough lately to reply to emails, much less post something that is not whining or ranting or excuses...I think it's that time of year...or maybe the sun sucked out my brain.
See, Friday? Winter arrived. Seriously we went from 80 degrees and sunny to 60 and overcast. It kinda threw me. Saturday it POURED. Sunday I got my "traveler's cold." You know, when you go visit home/abroad/someplace else and on the third day you feel not-so-well and maybe a little sniffly and it's because your body is like "CURSE YOU FOR MAKING ME LEAVE HOME!" or something?
Yeah, only I hadn't gone anywhere. I shared with Andy the feeling that we'd been magically transported from like Hawai'i (seriously, we were having AWESOME weather) to Mordor ("It's still dark, Sam. It's always dark here, sir.") and he agreed with my "We're not in Kansas anymore" feeling.
We'd been sucked into the twilight zone. I wish.
Whatever magical weather we'd been having is gone gone gone and it took my ability to cope and get well and be organized with it...cuz lord do my joints ache and remember that little bicycle accident I just had??? Right. Cold weather is not conducive to healing. Make a note.
Urgh...all I want to do is sleep...I think I was a bear (or a hamster) in a past life...hibernation is such the way to go.
Thursday, September 18, 2008
Burying the Hate, One Post at a Time
At times like yesterday, I'm so glad my blog is not a popular one. An honest rant is hard when you know your boss might be reading.
And maybe your mom too... Well, actually, I dunno, if my mom was reading my blog it'd go one way or the other...either she'd stop worrying about me so much...or she'd never stop. We never did mesh well. Our personalities clash pretty hard core when we get right down to it. So she worries that I will end up in major trouble/accidents/situations for the simple reason that my thoughts and reasonings and decisions are so WAAAAAAYYYY not anything like hers.
Although she did agree that it might be a good thing to not have all her eggs in one basket with regards to banking. What with the recent fiscal implosion we're having, my willy-nilly collection of bank accounts doesn't seem so freaky now, eh?
No, not gloating. Actually kinda sad that my paranoia was not. (It's not paranoia if they really are out to get you!)
Anyway, what a glum topic I've chosen for today....let's think happier thoughts.
Like the fact I took a one and a half hour lunch yesterday with a co-worker I haven't seen for months :). So very decadent and I feel no guilt. Not after the last week where 10 hour days were the norm. (It goes to show that I am also correct in the assumption that I should never be sick or miss work. Damn you Calvinist work ethic instilled by my forefathers! Or something.)
We had yummy (yet maybe a bit spicy) messican food that put me in such a happy place. It also reminded me that I'll be down in LA in November and must get some more recipes from my mom. Or at least make something with her supervising so I can glean more from her knowledge.
And on the topic of food? Is it sad that I can't wait for my friend's child to be old enough so that if I babysit I can have "kid food" in my house? Cuz I will not lie to you blogiverse, I just ate a bowl of Lucky Charms for my uber healthy breakfast. (I did add a dying banana to it.) But I get this super guilty feeling at the grocery store whenever I indulge in my need for a "kid" cereal...like everyone is looking at me and saying, "That one? She doesn't HAVE kids, what is she buying THAT for!"
I know, I know, I have issues.
On that note, I have to run...and even though he said he never reads my blog:
And maybe your mom too... Well, actually, I dunno, if my mom was reading my blog it'd go one way or the other...either she'd stop worrying about me so much...or she'd never stop. We never did mesh well. Our personalities clash pretty hard core when we get right down to it. So she worries that I will end up in major trouble/accidents/situations for the simple reason that my thoughts and reasonings and decisions are so WAAAAAAYYYY not anything like hers.
Although she did agree that it might be a good thing to not have all her eggs in one basket with regards to banking. What with the recent fiscal implosion we're having, my willy-nilly collection of bank accounts doesn't seem so freaky now, eh?
No, not gloating. Actually kinda sad that my paranoia was not. (It's not paranoia if they really are out to get you!)
Anyway, what a glum topic I've chosen for today....let's think happier thoughts.
Like the fact I took a one and a half hour lunch yesterday with a co-worker I haven't seen for months :). So very decadent and I feel no guilt. Not after the last week where 10 hour days were the norm. (It goes to show that I am also correct in the assumption that I should never be sick or miss work. Damn you Calvinist work ethic instilled by my forefathers! Or something.)
We had yummy (yet maybe a bit spicy) messican food that put me in such a happy place. It also reminded me that I'll be down in LA in November and must get some more recipes from my mom. Or at least make something with her supervising so I can glean more from her knowledge.
And on the topic of food? Is it sad that I can't wait for my friend's child to be old enough so that if I babysit I can have "kid food" in my house? Cuz I will not lie to you blogiverse, I just ate a bowl of Lucky Charms for my uber healthy breakfast. (I did add a dying banana to it.) But I get this super guilty feeling at the grocery store whenever I indulge in my need for a "kid" cereal...like everyone is looking at me and saying, "That one? She doesn't HAVE kids, what is she buying THAT for!"
I know, I know, I have issues.
On that note, I have to run...and even though he said he never reads my blog:
HAPPY BIRTHDAY ALFRED!
Wednesday, September 17, 2008
Petulant, Yet Flexible
If my immediate superior (whom I share an office with) were to write my yearly review, I think those would be the words he'd use to describe me.
I swore in front of him yesterday. Well, technically we sit "back to back" so maybe it was more like I swore at the wall while he was in the same room. Did I day "dam" or maybe the "s" word? Oh no. There was nothing but intense hatred and maybe a dash of malice (okay, maybe the need for hurting in there as well) as I dropped ye ol' F-bomb when I read the email that told me my work day? The one I'd already over-planned and had been counting on as I've been out (bike accident) and filling in for peeps on vacay? The LAST DAY I'd have to catch up before the month started all over again?
Gone.
I got to drop everything to fill in for a sick co-worker.
I was beyond mad. It took all my 34 years of training to control my god-awful-gonna-have-a-tantrum-RIGHT NOW-temper (sexy, I know) to keep it together. I have an eye twitch and a headache instead...fun times.
Yeah, that was me focusing so hard on doing her data entry I did not turn to look at you, acknowledge your presence, or smile. Yep, that smacking sound was me tossing/dropping entered paperwork on the floor just to hear it smack. Yey for determination that had me finish the mountain of her work in an hour and a half so I might start in on my own. (And yeah, it is extra childish but that competitive nature side of me went "HA!" when I saw I entered twice as much as she did in half the time...)
AAAaaauuummm.
When I went to Italy last year, one of the tour guides said the best way to handle Rome was to visualize yourself as a Willow and bend with the wind, cuz all the planning and phone calls and reservations could not save you from the whims of the Italian government or mentality. (i.e. always have plans b, c, and even d)
It's a philosophy I've actually adopted to my life. That and the "It's just not worth it" mentality are all that keep me going at times like this.
And now I have to run, as I have an hour and a half+ extra of my work to try to cram into this morning.
I swore in front of him yesterday. Well, technically we sit "back to back" so maybe it was more like I swore at the wall while he was in the same room. Did I day "dam" or maybe the "s" word? Oh no. There was nothing but intense hatred and maybe a dash of malice (okay, maybe the need for hurting in there as well) as I dropped ye ol' F-bomb when I read the email that told me my work day? The one I'd already over-planned and had been counting on as I've been out (bike accident) and filling in for peeps on vacay? The LAST DAY I'd have to catch up before the month started all over again?
Gone.
I got to drop everything to fill in for a sick co-worker.
I was beyond mad. It took all my 34 years of training to control my god-awful-gonna-have-a-tantrum-RIGHT NOW-temper (sexy, I know) to keep it together. I have an eye twitch and a headache instead...fun times.
Yeah, that was me focusing so hard on doing her data entry I did not turn to look at you, acknowledge your presence, or smile. Yep, that smacking sound was me tossing/dropping entered paperwork on the floor just to hear it smack. Yey for determination that had me finish the mountain of her work in an hour and a half so I might start in on my own. (And yeah, it is extra childish but that competitive nature side of me went "HA!" when I saw I entered twice as much as she did in half the time...)
AAAaaauuummm.
When I went to Italy last year, one of the tour guides said the best way to handle Rome was to visualize yourself as a Willow and bend with the wind, cuz all the planning and phone calls and reservations could not save you from the whims of the Italian government or mentality. (i.e. always have plans b, c, and even d)
It's a philosophy I've actually adopted to my life. That and the "It's just not worth it" mentality are all that keep me going at times like this.
And now I have to run, as I have an hour and a half+ extra of my work to try to cram into this morning.
Friday, September 12, 2008
Officially Overworked & Underpaid...
I don't know if I will make my closing deadline, and at this point I just don't care anymore. I am going to take my brother's way of looking at work, "It'll still be there tomorrow." Which in the world of accounting? Isn't the best way, but did I mention just now? Just. Don't. Care.
So I will post a meme-response to Bezzie's Feme meme. Is that how you say it? Or is it best to say, "me too!" I was a lit. major and read enough dead white men to fill several veteran's memorial cemeteries, or so it felt like. So this list was both eye opening to me and gives me fodder for picking up more non-dead-white-guy lit. Or non-white guy lit, period. (Have you any idea how saddened I was when I realized Memoirs of a Geisha was not just NOT a memoir, but not written by a geisha either?)
I don't read nearly as much as I did in school...but I have developed a "gift" for being able to read at least 4 different books at the same time. I'm here to tell you, like knitting on several projects at the same time? You don't finish the 4 books as fast as when you only read one at a time. And many times you will have to back up a few paragraphs/pages/chapters to figure out where you are in the story. And yet, like an addiction, I can't stop starting new books ALL THE TIME.
So yeah, the premise is the same as most of these lists go: Bold those you've read. (*) Mark those whose authors you read. Both means you've read the book AND (I'm guessing) at least another by the same author. Bezzie used three ***s so I followed suit. I don't think this means I've read three other books by the same person. If it does I'll edit it later.
Allison, Dorothy. Bastard Out of Carolina, 1992
Angelou, Maya. I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings, 1969
Atwood, Margaret. Cat's Eye, 1988 ***
Bainbridge, Beryl. The Bottle Factory Outing, 1974
Bambara, Toni Cade. Gorilla, My Love, 1992
Barnes, Djuna. Nightwood, 1937
Barker, Pat. Regeneration, 1992
Brookner, Anita. Hotel du Lac, 1984
Brown, Rita Mae. Rubyfruit Jungle, 1973
Buck, Pearl S. The Good Earth, 1931
Byatt, A.S. Possession: A Romance, 1990***
Carter, Angela. Nights at the Circus, 1984
Castillo, Ana. So Far From God, 1993***
Cather, Willa. My Antonia, 1918***
Chopin, Kate. The Awakening, 1900
Cisneros, Sandra. The House on Mango Street, 1984 ***
Compton-Burnett, Ivy. Elders and Betters, 1944
Desai, Anita. Clear Light of Day, 1980
Dinesen, Isak. Out of Africa, 1938 ***
Doerr, Harriet. Stones for Ibarra, 1984
Drabble, Margaret. The Radiant Way, 1987
DuMaurier, Daphne. Rebecca, 1938
Emecheta, Buchi. Second Class Citizen, 1974
Erdrich, Louise. Tracks: A Novel, 1988
Fitzgerald, Penelope. At Freddie's, 1985
Flagg, Fannie. Fried Green Tomatoes at the Whistle Stop Cafe, 1987 ***
Frame, Janet. Yellow Flowers in the Antipodean Room, 1969
French, Marilyn. The Women's Room, 1977
Goldstein, Rebecca. The Mind-Body Problem: A Novel, 1983
Gordimer, Nadine. July's People, 1981
Gordon, Mary. The Rest of Life, 1993
Hall, Radclyffe. The Well of Loneliness, 1928
Head, Bessie. When Rain Clouds Gather, 1968
Highsmith, Patricia. The Talented Mr. Ripley, 1955
Hobhouse, Janet. The Furies, 1993
Hulme, Keri. The Bone People, 1983
Hurston, Zora Neale. Their Eyes Were Watching God, 1937
Jackson, Shirley. The Haunting of Hill House, 1959 ***
Jhabvala, Ruth Prawer. Heat and Dust, 1975
Jong, Erica. Fear of Flying, 1973
Kincaid, Jamaica. Lucy, 1990 ***
Kingsolver, Barbara. The Bean Trees, 1988 ***
Kingston, Maxine Hong. Tripmaster Monkey, 1989 ***
Kogawa, Joy. Obasan, 1981
Laurence, Margaret. The Fire-Dwellers, 1969
Lee, Harper. To Kill a Mockingbird, 1960
Lessing, Doris. The Golden Notebook, 1962
Lively, Penelope. Moon Tiger, 1987
Loos, Anita. Gentlemen Prefer Blondes, 1925
McCarthy, Mary. The Group, 1963
McCullers, Carson. Ballad of the Sad Cafe, 1951
McMillan, Terry. Mama, 1987 ***
Manning, Olivia. The Balkan Trilogy, 1981
Miller, Isabel. Patience and Sarah, 1969
Mitchell, Margaret. Gone with the Wind, 1936 ***
Moore, Lorrie. Anagrams: A Novel, 1986
Morrison, Toni. Beloved: A Novel, 1987 ***
Mukherjee, Bharati. Wife, 1975
Munro, Alice. Lives of Girls and Women, 1971
Murdoch, Iris. A Severed Head, 1961
Oates, Joyce Carol. You Must Remember This, 1987 ***
O'Brien, Edna. House of Splendid Isolation, 1994
O'Connor, Flannery. A Good Man is Hard to Find, 1955
Olsen, Tillie. Tell Me a Riddle, 1979
Paley, Grace. Enormous Changes at the Last Minute, 1974
Parker, Dorothy. The Collected Dorothy Parker, 1973
Phillips, Jayne Anne. Black Tickets, 1979
Piercy, Marge. Braided Lives, 1982 ***
Plath, Sylvia. The Bell Jar, 1963
Porter, Katharine Anne. Ship of Fools, 1962
Powell, Dawn. The Golden Spur, 1962
Proulx, E. Annie. The Shipping News, 1993 ***
Rand, Ayn. The Fountainhead, 1943 (I tried, I really did...didn't happen.)
Renault, Mary. The King Must Die, 1958
Rhys, Jean. Wide Sargasso Sea, 1966 (This sounds really familiar...)
Robinson, Marilynne. Housekeeping, 1980
Roy, Arundhati. The God of Small Things, 1997
Sarton, May. Mrs. Stevens Hears the Mermaids Singing, 1965
Shields, Carol. The Stone Diaries, 1994
Shreve, Anita. The Weight of Water, 1997 ***
Silko, Leslie Marmon. Almanac of the Dead, 1991 ***
Simpson, Mona. Anywhere But Here, 1986
Smart, Elizabeth. By Grand Central Station I Sat Down and Wept, 1966
Smiley, Jane. The Age of Grief, 1987
Sontag, Susan. The Volcano Lover, 1992
Spark, Muriel. The Prime of Miss Jean Brodie, 1961
Stead, Christina. The Man Who Loved Children, 1965
Stein, Gertrude. Three Lives, 1909
Taylor, Elizabeth. Angel, 1957 ***
Tan, Amy. The Joy Luck Club, 1989 ***
Tyler, Anne. If Morning Ever Comes, 1964
Urquhart, Jane. Away, 1993
Walker, Alice. The Color Purple, 1982
Weldon, Fay. The Life and Loves of a She-Devil, 1983
Welty, Eudora. Selected Stories, 1943
West, Rebecca. The Return of the Soldier, 1918
Wharton, Edith. Ethan Frome, 1911
White, Antonia. Frost in May, 1933
Winterson, Jeannette. Oranges Are Not the Only Fruit, 1985
Woolf, Virginia. Mrs. Dalloway, 1925 ***
I got spirit, yes I do, I got spirit, how 'bout you? (Did I really just write that? I need to go home.)
So I will post a meme-response to Bezzie's Feme meme. Is that how you say it? Or is it best to say, "me too!" I was a lit. major and read enough dead white men to fill several veteran's memorial cemeteries, or so it felt like. So this list was both eye opening to me and gives me fodder for picking up more non-dead-white-guy lit. Or non-white guy lit, period. (Have you any idea how saddened I was when I realized Memoirs of a Geisha was not just NOT a memoir, but not written by a geisha either?)
I don't read nearly as much as I did in school...but I have developed a "gift" for being able to read at least 4 different books at the same time. I'm here to tell you, like knitting on several projects at the same time? You don't finish the 4 books as fast as when you only read one at a time. And many times you will have to back up a few paragraphs/pages/chapters to figure out where you are in the story. And yet, like an addiction, I can't stop starting new books ALL THE TIME.
So yeah, the premise is the same as most of these lists go: Bold those you've read. (*) Mark those whose authors you read. Both means you've read the book AND (I'm guessing) at least another by the same author. Bezzie used three ***s so I followed suit. I don't think this means I've read three other books by the same person. If it does I'll edit it later.
Allison, Dorothy. Bastard Out of Carolina, 1992
Angelou, Maya. I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings, 1969
Atwood, Margaret. Cat's Eye, 1988 ***
Bainbridge, Beryl. The Bottle Factory Outing, 1974
Bambara, Toni Cade. Gorilla, My Love, 1992
Barnes, Djuna. Nightwood, 1937
Barker, Pat. Regeneration, 1992
Brookner, Anita. Hotel du Lac, 1984
Brown, Rita Mae. Rubyfruit Jungle, 1973
Buck, Pearl S. The Good Earth, 1931
Byatt, A.S. Possession: A Romance, 1990***
Carter, Angela. Nights at the Circus, 1984
Castillo, Ana. So Far From God, 1993***
Cather, Willa. My Antonia, 1918***
Chopin, Kate. The Awakening, 1900
Cisneros, Sandra. The House on Mango Street, 1984 ***
Compton-Burnett, Ivy. Elders and Betters, 1944
Desai, Anita. Clear Light of Day, 1980
Dinesen, Isak. Out of Africa, 1938 ***
Doerr, Harriet. Stones for Ibarra, 1984
Drabble, Margaret. The Radiant Way, 1987
DuMaurier, Daphne. Rebecca, 1938
Emecheta, Buchi. Second Class Citizen, 1974
Erdrich, Louise. Tracks: A Novel, 1988
Fitzgerald, Penelope. At Freddie's, 1985
Flagg, Fannie. Fried Green Tomatoes at the Whistle Stop Cafe, 1987 ***
Frame, Janet. Yellow Flowers in the Antipodean Room, 1969
French, Marilyn. The Women's Room, 1977
Goldstein, Rebecca. The Mind-Body Problem: A Novel, 1983
Gordimer, Nadine. July's People, 1981
Gordon, Mary. The Rest of Life, 1993
Hall, Radclyffe. The Well of Loneliness, 1928
Head, Bessie. When Rain Clouds Gather, 1968
Highsmith, Patricia. The Talented Mr. Ripley, 1955
Hobhouse, Janet. The Furies, 1993
Hulme, Keri. The Bone People, 1983
Hurston, Zora Neale. Their Eyes Were Watching God, 1937
Jackson, Shirley. The Haunting of Hill House, 1959 ***
Jhabvala, Ruth Prawer. Heat and Dust, 1975
Jong, Erica. Fear of Flying, 1973
Kincaid, Jamaica. Lucy, 1990 ***
Kingsolver, Barbara. The Bean Trees, 1988 ***
Kingston, Maxine Hong. Tripmaster Monkey, 1989 ***
Kogawa, Joy. Obasan, 1981
Laurence, Margaret. The Fire-Dwellers, 1969
Lee, Harper. To Kill a Mockingbird, 1960
Lessing, Doris. The Golden Notebook, 1962
Lively, Penelope. Moon Tiger, 1987
Loos, Anita. Gentlemen Prefer Blondes, 1925
McCarthy, Mary. The Group, 1963
McCullers, Carson. Ballad of the Sad Cafe, 1951
McMillan, Terry. Mama, 1987 ***
Manning, Olivia. The Balkan Trilogy, 1981
Miller, Isabel. Patience and Sarah, 1969
Mitchell, Margaret. Gone with the Wind, 1936 ***
Moore, Lorrie. Anagrams: A Novel, 1986
Morrison, Toni. Beloved: A Novel, 1987 ***
Mukherjee, Bharati. Wife, 1975
Munro, Alice. Lives of Girls and Women, 1971
Murdoch, Iris. A Severed Head, 1961
Oates, Joyce Carol. You Must Remember This, 1987 ***
O'Brien, Edna. House of Splendid Isolation, 1994
O'Connor, Flannery. A Good Man is Hard to Find, 1955
Olsen, Tillie. Tell Me a Riddle, 1979
Paley, Grace. Enormous Changes at the Last Minute, 1974
Parker, Dorothy. The Collected Dorothy Parker, 1973
Phillips, Jayne Anne. Black Tickets, 1979
Piercy, Marge. Braided Lives, 1982 ***
Plath, Sylvia. The Bell Jar, 1963
Porter, Katharine Anne. Ship of Fools, 1962
Powell, Dawn. The Golden Spur, 1962
Proulx, E. Annie. The Shipping News, 1993 ***
Rand, Ayn. The Fountainhead, 1943 (I tried, I really did...didn't happen.)
Renault, Mary. The King Must Die, 1958
Rhys, Jean. Wide Sargasso Sea, 1966 (This sounds really familiar...)
Robinson, Marilynne. Housekeeping, 1980
Roy, Arundhati. The God of Small Things, 1997
Sarton, May. Mrs. Stevens Hears the Mermaids Singing, 1965
Shields, Carol. The Stone Diaries, 1994
Shreve, Anita. The Weight of Water, 1997 ***
Silko, Leslie Marmon. Almanac of the Dead, 1991 ***
Simpson, Mona. Anywhere But Here, 1986
Smart, Elizabeth. By Grand Central Station I Sat Down and Wept, 1966
Smiley, Jane. The Age of Grief, 1987
Sontag, Susan. The Volcano Lover, 1992
Spark, Muriel. The Prime of Miss Jean Brodie, 1961
Stead, Christina. The Man Who Loved Children, 1965
Stein, Gertrude. Three Lives, 1909
Taylor, Elizabeth. Angel, 1957 ***
Tan, Amy. The Joy Luck Club, 1989 ***
Tyler, Anne. If Morning Ever Comes, 1964
Urquhart, Jane. Away, 1993
Walker, Alice. The Color Purple, 1982
Weldon, Fay. The Life and Loves of a She-Devil, 1983
Welty, Eudora. Selected Stories, 1943
West, Rebecca. The Return of the Soldier, 1918
Wharton, Edith. Ethan Frome, 1911
White, Antonia. Frost in May, 1933
Winterson, Jeannette. Oranges Are Not the Only Fruit, 1985
Woolf, Virginia. Mrs. Dalloway, 1925 ***
I got spirit, yes I do, I got spirit, how 'bout you? (Did I really just write that? I need to go home.)
Wednesday, September 03, 2008
Green Beanie, A Pattern!
Brought to you by the letter V, and the number 2...an Emergency Room Inspiration
What do you do when you are stuck in an emergency room high on vicodine for 6 hours? That's right, write up the pattern to a hat, among other doodles that I discovered as I flipped through my agenda this morning.
Nope, do not recall doing this. Yep, simply typing what I scribbled. I'd scan the page but um, yeah, no one needs to see what my chicken scratch devolves into near the end. (Could this be the ritual apology iffin' there are blaring errors and such? Ya sure, you betcha!)
STUFF YOU NEED:
Yarn: I used brown sheep superwash chunky in um, pine something for the main color, and a few yards of doubled up superwash worsted in lichen (or something) for the contrasting color.
Needles: US 10.5 (circular would be nice...I only have DPNs), US 10 ( Circ if you have it. Again, I don't.)
Using the bigger needles, Cast On.
Join carefully (insert "do not twist" caution here. I hate that caution. But you know that as soon as it is not included, I will twist before joining, I am good like that.)
Using smaller needles, knit in in the round using plain stitch/stockinette/the first stitch you ever learned FOR DAYS. I wanted the band to be big enough to cover the entire ear of a young child, so I made it as long as the length of my ear. (Couple/3-inches maybe?)
Purl one row.
Switch to 10.5s and knit for a few inches more.
Switch to CC color for 1 round.
2nd round, (Slip 1 (CC) knit 1 with main color) repeating the stuff inside the ()s to end of the round, cutting CC yarn, you won't need it anymore unless you want to get fancy with your own designs.
Third round, Knit using main color again.
WEAVE IN ENDS of CC YARN RIGHT NOW. You won't see them again after the next bit.
Next row or two, or when you can fold the ring and the two edges match up, leave the soon-to-become-hem of the hat folded and knit into your live stitch as well as the cast-on row behind it.
See ma? No ends! All that CC stuff/ends are now hidden in the fold/hem.
Keep knitting until you have 5, 5.5, 6, whatever depth you prefer from purl row/edge to needles.
Begin decreases: (repeat the stuff between **'s to end of round)
*K8, k2 tog*
Knit next round
*K7, k2 tog*
knit next round (If you were using circular needles, switch to the DPNs about now, maybe sooner.)
*K6, K2 tog*
*K5, K2 tog*
*K4, K2 tog* (you get the decreasing pattern?) Keep going knitting 1 less until only a few stitches remain, or you can't juggle the too few stitches on the big DPNs, measure out about a yard of yarn and go ahead and cut it from the ball; stick the end in a darning needle and run through your stitches a couple of times to close out the hole at the top.
Weave anything remaining.
Block and send off to your favorite cold-headed child.
What do you do when you are stuck in an emergency room high on vicodine for 6 hours? That's right, write up the pattern to a hat, among other doodles that I discovered as I flipped through my agenda this morning.Nope, do not recall doing this. Yep, simply typing what I scribbled. I'd scan the page but um, yeah, no one needs to see what my chicken scratch devolves into near the end. (Could this be the ritual apology iffin' there are blaring errors and such? Ya sure, you betcha!)
STUFF YOU NEED:
Yarn: I used brown sheep superwash chunky in um, pine something for the main color, and a few yards of doubled up superwash worsted in lichen (or something) for the contrasting color.
Needles: US 10.5 (circular would be nice...I only have DPNs), US 10 ( Circ if you have it. Again, I don't.)
Using the bigger needles, Cast On.
Join carefully (insert "do not twist" caution here. I hate that caution. But you know that as soon as it is not included, I will twist before joining, I am good like that.)
Using smaller needles, knit in in the round using plain stitch/stockinette/the first stitch you ever learned FOR DAYS. I wanted the band to be big enough to cover the entire ear of a young child, so I made it as long as the length of my ear. (Couple/3-inches maybe?)
Purl one row.
Switch to 10.5s and knit for a few inches more.
Switch to CC color for 1 round.
2nd round, (Slip 1 (CC) knit 1 with main color) repeating the stuff inside the ()s to end of the round, cutting CC yarn, you won't need it anymore unless you want to get fancy with your own designs.
Third round, Knit using main color again.
WEAVE IN ENDS of CC YARN RIGHT NOW. You won't see them again after the next bit.
Next row or two, or when you can fold the ring and the two edges match up, leave the soon-to-become-hem of the hat folded and knit into your live stitch as well as the cast-on row behind it.
See ma? No ends! All that CC stuff/ends are now hidden in the fold/hem.
Keep knitting until you have 5, 5.5, 6, whatever depth you prefer from purl row/edge to needles.
Begin decreases: (repeat the stuff between **'s to end of round)
*K8, k2 tog*
Knit next round
*K7, k2 tog*
knit next round (If you were using circular needles, switch to the DPNs about now, maybe sooner.)
*K6, K2 tog*
*K5, K2 tog*
*K4, K2 tog* (you get the decreasing pattern?) Keep going knitting 1 less until only a few stitches remain, or you can't juggle the too few stitches on the big DPNs, measure out about a yard of yarn and go ahead and cut it from the ball; stick the end in a darning needle and run through your stitches a couple of times to close out the hole at the top.
Weave anything remaining.
Block and send off to your favorite cold-headed child.
Monday, September 01, 2008
One Day at a Time
The best description of me on Thursday? STIR CRAZY.
I'd convinced myself I no longer hurt (as long as there was 800mg of Ibuprophen at hand) by Wednesday night.
All day Thursday I was surly and depressed and just really pissed about the accident and the bruises and being 34 and healing so slowly and grrr, life in general.
So yeah, I defied all that was sacred (approved sick leave) and went in to work. I have a desk job! It's not like I have to carry 50 lb boxes around all day! I was slow but I got work done. I'd only planned on spending half a day there...but umm, yeah, what would have taken me a couple hours to do on say, BEFORE Monday night? Took me all day. A lot of my time was spent figuring out how to get out of my chair without hurting myself.
Yes, I know I am stubborn and hard-headed. I blame my father...and maybe my mom too.
I woke up kinda sore on Saturday morning but shook it off...then after coming back from lunch? Yeah, I WALKED to Fremont and back...I know, I should have "dumb ass" tattooed to my forehead...so right, after getting back to the apartment? I collapsed and slept for the rest of the day. I barely remember Sunday...there was a lot of sleeping and watching Season 1 of Buffy the Vampyre Slayer on Hulu.
And today? All I can say is thank the gods of Cobal today is a holiday.
I admit defeat. I am not invincible. If work has okay'd the time off, I am a fool not to take advantage of it--ALL of it. Sleep = healing, and if I notice that my body is craving more than the 6 hours I usually need? I should not ignore it.
Kick me if I do.
I'd convinced myself I no longer hurt (as long as there was 800mg of Ibuprophen at hand) by Wednesday night.
All day Thursday I was surly and depressed and just really pissed about the accident and the bruises and being 34 and healing so slowly and grrr, life in general.
So yeah, I defied all that was sacred (approved sick leave) and went in to work. I have a desk job! It's not like I have to carry 50 lb boxes around all day! I was slow but I got work done. I'd only planned on spending half a day there...but umm, yeah, what would have taken me a couple hours to do on say, BEFORE Monday night? Took me all day. A lot of my time was spent figuring out how to get out of my chair without hurting myself.
Yes, I know I am stubborn and hard-headed. I blame my father...and maybe my mom too.
I woke up kinda sore on Saturday morning but shook it off...then after coming back from lunch? Yeah, I WALKED to Fremont and back...I know, I should have "dumb ass" tattooed to my forehead...so right, after getting back to the apartment? I collapsed and slept for the rest of the day. I barely remember Sunday...there was a lot of sleeping and watching Season 1 of Buffy the Vampyre Slayer on Hulu.
And today? All I can say is thank the gods of Cobal today is a holiday.
I admit defeat. I am not invincible. If work has okay'd the time off, I am a fool not to take advantage of it--ALL of it. Sleep = healing, and if I notice that my body is craving more than the 6 hours I usually need? I should not ignore it.
Kick me if I do.
Wednesday, August 27, 2008
Bike VS Truck
So the title? That's what the check-in nurse/admin person wrote on my ER paperwork. It sounds so empowering, like I could have stood a chance against the Ford F-1-something-or-other.
Instead I am writing to you from day 1.5 of my convalescence. As the payroll chica said? If this doesn't qualify for emergency time off? Not sure what would.
And to explain the .5? Yeah, I went in to work for a couple/4 hours yesterday to get ready for not being there. It was slow and painful but probably the only time I will not have to wait for access to the copy machine and have my print-outs delivered to my desk. It's one thing to get the email that someone is too messed up/broken to come in the next few days, but a WAY different thing to see them stumbling and limping around so that you don't have to try to figure out the mess that is her desk...or so I was told. I was also told, repeatedly, to get the hell out and go rest!
So I'm following orders...sort of.
If I'm not sleeping I feel a bit stir crazy. It's probably the drugs. You know it's just not fair to take something that makes the pain go away cuz then you think, "See? I'm not hurt! I can go get my work done!" Only you are on a narcotic and have no business being out in the world!
Ugh.
So I'm not posting any pictures. There's not much to show really.
I have a purple left-ring-finger-knuckle.
Both knees are banged, scraped, and bruised up, but no road rash as I wasn't dragged or anything. My one "won't stop bleeding" sliver-moon-shaped-cut on my right knee is fully hidden under a normal-sized band-aid, and no I'll not rip it off to show you that, sorry. I learned my lesson about cheap band-aids and pulling them off willy-nilly.
My right elbow is much too hard to photograph, and besides, all you can see is a scab, unless you compare the size of it to my right elbow...which is hard to do without hurting myself, so no way.
As I don't like the idea of posting a picture of my chest? You're not going to see the "circle" bruise that sits just above the apex of my, um "girls."
But aside from the psychological trauma? (6 hours in an ER is enough to drive anyone batty.) That's the extent of the damage on me.
Andy has put my bike downstairs in the disaster that is our storage room, so I can't take a picture of the "banana bend" that my front tire has acquired. Maybe later, but that and my BRAND NEW BASKET, are all that were damaged beyond simple pull/bend back into shape, repair.
The actual accident:
I feel like a broken record already. I've told the same story to the check-in nurse, the triage nurse, two doctors, the x-ray attendant, a couple police officers (yes, there is a police report), countless people at work yesterday, my mom, my brother, Andy...
But the basics. I was riding home on the Burke Gilman Trail. There is a bit of the trail that crosses the businesses (cement factory, storage facilities, boat haul-outs, etc.) where for the most part the bikes have to yield. In this case, there is a stop sign for cars.
The truck was stopped and playing the "you go" "no YOU go" game with a bicycle on his right side. As he was letting her go, I began crossing the intersection from the left side. Unfortunately, as soon as she zipped past him, he started to go, and didn't see me until I was hitting his truck.
I saw him start up and hit the breaks. Did I mention it's been raining in Seattle? The streets were sopping, so I started to skid and there was no way I'd stop in time. So, instead of hitting him straight on and possibly going over his hood? I leaned over/turned in so I could hit him broad-side. I figured the worst that would happen was that I'd slam my helmet and shoulder into the truck.
Weeeellll...the road was too wet and the bike was already slipping and I saw it hit/crunch/get sucked under his front tire and I went down pretty fast after that. I don't like to dwell too much on this, but I could have been sucked completely under his truck...BUT WASN'T.
My right elbow definitely hit his truck. My sternum definitely hit my twisted up handle-bars end-on (or I wouldn't have such a fantastic circular bruise!). Everything else is pure conjecture.
At that point the adrenaline took over and thankfully, so did all the bicyclists that were in the area. I don't know how many there actually were, but one started by calling the cops, another two were helping me get out from under the bike, another was helping the driver get his truck off my bike, another was checking on the driver....I lost count.
I also almost lost consciousness...my chest HURT and the worst case scenario was broken ribs/insides and I was blowing off the ER idea until I HAD TO SIT DOWN RIGHT NOW and breathing hurt and I wanted to vomit. The driver lent me a blanket as the "shakes" started and I got to see just how waterproof my new phone is as I called Andy to get me the hell out of there and to a hospital, ahem, STAT.
But I think that was the adrenaline starting to drain away and the realization (like the one above) that it could have been MUCH worse and I am still alive and my god in so much pain, but LIVING.
And now I think it's nap time.
Instead I am writing to you from day 1.5 of my convalescence. As the payroll chica said? If this doesn't qualify for emergency time off? Not sure what would.
And to explain the .5? Yeah, I went in to work for a couple/4 hours yesterday to get ready for not being there. It was slow and painful but probably the only time I will not have to wait for access to the copy machine and have my print-outs delivered to my desk. It's one thing to get the email that someone is too messed up/broken to come in the next few days, but a WAY different thing to see them stumbling and limping around so that you don't have to try to figure out the mess that is her desk...or so I was told. I was also told, repeatedly, to get the hell out and go rest!
So I'm following orders...sort of.
If I'm not sleeping I feel a bit stir crazy. It's probably the drugs. You know it's just not fair to take something that makes the pain go away cuz then you think, "See? I'm not hurt! I can go get my work done!" Only you are on a narcotic and have no business being out in the world!
Ugh.
So I'm not posting any pictures. There's not much to show really.
I have a purple left-ring-finger-knuckle.
Both knees are banged, scraped, and bruised up, but no road rash as I wasn't dragged or anything. My one "won't stop bleeding" sliver-moon-shaped-cut on my right knee is fully hidden under a normal-sized band-aid, and no I'll not rip it off to show you that, sorry. I learned my lesson about cheap band-aids and pulling them off willy-nilly.
My right elbow is much too hard to photograph, and besides, all you can see is a scab, unless you compare the size of it to my right elbow...which is hard to do without hurting myself, so no way.
As I don't like the idea of posting a picture of my chest? You're not going to see the "circle" bruise that sits just above the apex of my, um "girls."
But aside from the psychological trauma? (6 hours in an ER is enough to drive anyone batty.) That's the extent of the damage on me.
Andy has put my bike downstairs in the disaster that is our storage room, so I can't take a picture of the "banana bend" that my front tire has acquired. Maybe later, but that and my BRAND NEW BASKET, are all that were damaged beyond simple pull/bend back into shape, repair.
The actual accident:
I feel like a broken record already. I've told the same story to the check-in nurse, the triage nurse, two doctors, the x-ray attendant, a couple police officers (yes, there is a police report), countless people at work yesterday, my mom, my brother, Andy...
But the basics. I was riding home on the Burke Gilman Trail. There is a bit of the trail that crosses the businesses (cement factory, storage facilities, boat haul-outs, etc.) where for the most part the bikes have to yield. In this case, there is a stop sign for cars.
The truck was stopped and playing the "you go" "no YOU go" game with a bicycle on his right side. As he was letting her go, I began crossing the intersection from the left side. Unfortunately, as soon as she zipped past him, he started to go, and didn't see me until I was hitting his truck.
I saw him start up and hit the breaks. Did I mention it's been raining in Seattle? The streets were sopping, so I started to skid and there was no way I'd stop in time. So, instead of hitting him straight on and possibly going over his hood? I leaned over/turned in so I could hit him broad-side. I figured the worst that would happen was that I'd slam my helmet and shoulder into the truck.
Weeeellll...the road was too wet and the bike was already slipping and I saw it hit/crunch/get sucked under his front tire and I went down pretty fast after that. I don't like to dwell too much on this, but I could have been sucked completely under his truck...BUT WASN'T.
My right elbow definitely hit his truck. My sternum definitely hit my twisted up handle-bars end-on (or I wouldn't have such a fantastic circular bruise!). Everything else is pure conjecture.
At that point the adrenaline took over and thankfully, so did all the bicyclists that were in the area. I don't know how many there actually were, but one started by calling the cops, another two were helping me get out from under the bike, another was helping the driver get his truck off my bike, another was checking on the driver....I lost count.
I also almost lost consciousness...my chest HURT and the worst case scenario was broken ribs/insides and I was blowing off the ER idea until I HAD TO SIT DOWN RIGHT NOW and breathing hurt and I wanted to vomit. The driver lent me a blanket as the "shakes" started and I got to see just how waterproof my new phone is as I called Andy to get me the hell out of there and to a hospital, ahem, STAT.
But I think that was the adrenaline starting to drain away and the realization (like the one above) that it could have been MUCH worse and I am still alive and my god in so much pain, but LIVING.
And now I think it's nap time.
Tuesday, August 26, 2008
Spoke too Soon
I got out of ER at about 1:30 this morning.
In the timeless challenge of BIKE VS TRUCK? Truck will ALWAYS win.
My bicycle has seen better days.
My chest has a handlebar-end-shaped bruise.
My elbow knows exactly how much give an oldie (you know, made of real steel?) Ford truck really has (not much).
We don't really want to talk about just how sore I am right now cuz it's supposed to get worse before it gets better...but that's why they invented pain killer and muscle relaxers.
More later.
In the timeless challenge of BIKE VS TRUCK? Truck will ALWAYS win.
My bicycle has seen better days.
My chest has a handlebar-end-shaped bruise.
My elbow knows exactly how much give an oldie (you know, made of real steel?) Ford truck really has (not much).
We don't really want to talk about just how sore I am right now cuz it's supposed to get worse before it gets better...but that's why they invented pain killer and muscle relaxers.
More later.
Monday, August 25, 2008
"I ATEN'T DEAD"
- Granny Weatherwax
And I've even had a number of bloggable adventures...
It's just that...yeah, not really in the mood to sit in front of the computer at home lately...so instead I'm emailing my blog...cuz at least I'm sorta kinda answering email every once in a long while...
I wish I could blame the awesome weather! But it was pouring buckets last night.
I think I shall blame the Olympics. Yep. I've been watching... as addicted to the spectacle as anyone else. Still rather annoyed about some of the sports and rules and such (professional athletes?!? diabolical "point" systems for diving??!!??); but watching a race is still watching a race.
And now that it's over I can pull myself away from the tee vee...
Oh yeah, we found out we have tee vee.
I might have mentioned the big box in the living room is also known as the DVD/video game player? As in it's connected to the mac-mini and the play-station and Andy and I will fight it out to see if we're watching something from HULU, Netflix, or if he's playing some silly shoot-em-up video game but no hablo network tv?
So I might have dug out a co-axially-looking cable that had the right connection to be an antenna so I could watch me a scratchy/static-filled PBS presentation when nothing else fit the bill.
Right, for the opening ceremonies? I thought, sure, why not. And plopped myself in front for some snowy entertainment.
Then we were bombarded by all the "Are you so lame that you still watch TEE VEE using an antenna?" commercials. Well, won't it suck for me come next February, etc. et. al.
That's when Andy wondered if his 2 year-old viewing machine was DTV compatible and what all we'd need...it turns out we just had to plug that piece of wire into the digital antenna port that was just behind the one I'd plugged it into.
Fer serious.
We've been watching snow and static and a little "Sound of Music" for YEARS now, and all this time...
Eh, it's best with didn't know. I mean, well, yeah, I was able to knit me an entire sock (picture coming) and all, but really, the boob-tube is not a misnomer. It's bad enough how much a time-suck computers are...speaking of which...I'm going to go eat my lunch now.
And Happy Birthday, Karin, wherever you might be.
Friday, August 15, 2008
After the Adrenaline Rush...
You know that "pumped up" feeling that happens after a close call? Well I'm on the downward spiral of it and I could so take a nap.
I need to figure out a way to safely chronicle my journeys to and from work for you all...I can't remember all of these things and pictures would not be all that awesome...see bullet point #2.
Seriously, this week:
- Almost ran over a fellow who was standing in the middle of the trail happily eating the blackberries he'd just picked (they are everywhere, the wild blackberries with their thorns and juicy fruit falling off the vines...well, and the people, transients mainly, standing happily by the bushes AND IN THE MIDDLE OF THE BIKE TRAILS, enjoying a snack).
- Poo, on the bike trail. I'm still not wholly convinced it was pet-related...see first bullet point.
- 2 runners with ear-buds firmly embedded in their brains almost felt what it'd be like to have my handlebars in their sternums...Really, it's one thing to hit someone who is running in the same direction as you're riding (you know, you've yelled out "on your left" only to see the tell-tale headphone cord or mp3 device strapped onto their arm and just as you are about to pass them they veer right (err, left) into your path? Yup, I've had 3 of them in the last two weeks. They are so lucky I have quick reflexes and good brakes.) but yeah, if you are running towards me? Why do you think I'm going to get out of YOUR way if I'm already on the right-hand side of the BIKE trail? Color me silly, but if you're going to use the bike trail, PAY ATTENTION and be aware that the bikes are following those silly US rules of the road (for the most part) and sticking to the right side of the trail, maybe you should be on that side too? Hmm, maybe they were European?
- I already mentioned the 3 runners I almost blindsided...or nearly blindsided me, so we'll skip this one.
- One fellow, I kid you not, just outside the gates of the Adobe building, you know, just before that big blind curve? Lying ON the bike trail, with suitcase and newspaper, READING. I was so incredulous I could not make out what was in front of me. I thought, "oh, gardener and that's the um, blower pack-thingie." Then as I got closer, just before the curve? Yep, that is a suitcase. Yup, those are knees. Yup, that is a newspaper. My god, he is on his back, did he fall? Nope, just reading. Hi, there is a comfy bit of GRASS just five feet to your right, what is wrong with you?!?!?
- And juvenile bicyclists who do not know what side of the bike trail to ride on should not be there unaccompanied. I hate yelling at kids but I did, and it did not make me feel good or empowered, just frightened for their lives, cuz you know what? I am a lackadaisical rider compared to the uber-bikers on the Burke Gilman trail with their matchy matchy outfits and tricked out road-bikes that cost more than my car.
- This morning's adrenaline rush was thanks to the trucker that decided not to obey that silly stop sign just past the cement factory. I don't bike all that fast, but um, it is amazing what bursts of speed I can get up to when I notice that a huge moving-van style truck is NOT slowing down and I will not be able to brake in time.
So now I am eating too much sugar (yey left-over brownies and cookies from yesterday's company picnic), and trying to stay awake.
Happy Friday!
I need to figure out a way to safely chronicle my journeys to and from work for you all...I can't remember all of these things and pictures would not be all that awesome...see bullet point #2.
Seriously, this week:
- Almost ran over a fellow who was standing in the middle of the trail happily eating the blackberries he'd just picked (they are everywhere, the wild blackberries with their thorns and juicy fruit falling off the vines...well, and the people, transients mainly, standing happily by the bushes AND IN THE MIDDLE OF THE BIKE TRAILS, enjoying a snack).
- Poo, on the bike trail. I'm still not wholly convinced it was pet-related...see first bullet point.
- 2 runners with ear-buds firmly embedded in their brains almost felt what it'd be like to have my handlebars in their sternums...Really, it's one thing to hit someone who is running in the same direction as you're riding (you know, you've yelled out "on your left" only to see the tell-tale headphone cord or mp3 device strapped onto their arm and just as you are about to pass them they veer right (err, left) into your path? Yup, I've had 3 of them in the last two weeks. They are so lucky I have quick reflexes and good brakes.) but yeah, if you are running towards me? Why do you think I'm going to get out of YOUR way if I'm already on the right-hand side of the BIKE trail? Color me silly, but if you're going to use the bike trail, PAY ATTENTION and be aware that the bikes are following those silly US rules of the road (for the most part) and sticking to the right side of the trail, maybe you should be on that side too? Hmm, maybe they were European?
- I already mentioned the 3 runners I almost blindsided...or nearly blindsided me, so we'll skip this one.
- One fellow, I kid you not, just outside the gates of the Adobe building, you know, just before that big blind curve? Lying ON the bike trail, with suitcase and newspaper, READING. I was so incredulous I could not make out what was in front of me. I thought, "oh, gardener and that's the um, blower pack-thingie." Then as I got closer, just before the curve? Yep, that is a suitcase. Yup, those are knees. Yup, that is a newspaper. My god, he is on his back, did he fall? Nope, just reading. Hi, there is a comfy bit of GRASS just five feet to your right, what is wrong with you?!?!?
- And juvenile bicyclists who do not know what side of the bike trail to ride on should not be there unaccompanied. I hate yelling at kids but I did, and it did not make me feel good or empowered, just frightened for their lives, cuz you know what? I am a lackadaisical rider compared to the uber-bikers on the Burke Gilman trail with their matchy matchy outfits and tricked out road-bikes that cost more than my car.
- This morning's adrenaline rush was thanks to the trucker that decided not to obey that silly stop sign just past the cement factory. I don't bike all that fast, but um, it is amazing what bursts of speed I can get up to when I notice that a huge moving-van style truck is NOT slowing down and I will not be able to brake in time.
So now I am eating too much sugar (yey left-over brownies and cookies from yesterday's company picnic), and trying to stay awake.
Happy Friday!
Tuesday, August 12, 2008
Time Enough to Knit Another One
It's been a super long while since I knit anything with yarn thicker than the tooth floss I usually use for socks...so um, maybe it's my impatience? Maybe it's the thickness of the yarn? (bulky) But um, in all seriousness? Just how long DOES it take to DRY a couple of wool hats?
You know, for kids?
These are hopefully soon (you know, once they're dry?) on their way to Okay! What's Next??'s Katy for her trip to the Ukraine in September. All the details are on her blog on the side bar-place/thingy.
It's actually not too late to make a hat for her to receive by Sept. 6th, you know you can do it! If my glacial speed is able to bust a hat out during the latest Olympic blah, blah, blah, I'll bet you can knit 7!
It's the drying that might make you miss the deadline though, SHEESH...hmmm, they are superwash, maybe I'll stick them in the dryer?
The specs:
* Pattern...um winged the bottom one. Got the basics from that Knit Hats! book I got a million years ago. Cast on 64 and GO! The bottom one has one of those purl rows to make the hem bend/fold, and I "basted" it as I knit/went because I hate finishing things...as is evidenced by my lack of showing you a pair of socks that still need grafting and Andy's latest hat that still needs ends woven in. I suppose I require deadlines, cuz yeah, I'm just as shocked as you are that there are two finished hatsSTILL NOT DRY almost ready to be mailed.
* The yarn is Brown Sheep superwash bulky in Pine something...(obviously really good at losing labels around here, it's a gift.)
* Needles: US 10.5 for the top guy, US 10 for he whose folded over hem WILL NOT DRY.
I'm going to blame the humidity. Just a bit ago I checked and as my mom would say, "We're all square!" 64 degrees and 64% humidity. It's been like that all day! 80 degrees with matching humidity is what I biked home in. Although at just about the time I got to the scary place where I have to cross the railroad tracks...TWICE? It became 100% humidity. Yep, rain, in August. Mother Nature hates me.
And about my new toy:
If I have not called you it's because my snazzy new phone (more copper than orange, but pretty nonetheless) is too new to mind meld with my ancient old phone. What this means is that I have to MANUALLY add your # to my cell. Yep, that there is a whole bunch of no fun.
But it's a working phone, so call me and I will cheat and save your number that way :).
And about the drudgery that pays for all this:
We are in the middle of getting all the right bits and pieces together to close out the month, so if you don't hear from me for a few more days...it's cuz I'm drowning in paper. SAVE ME. Bring expensive wine and/or really sweet fru fru drinks...it looks like I'm not allergic to either! I sense a vicious circle brewing here...work harder so I can make enough money to buy the expensive wine, so I can work harder so I can...eeep.
I'm going to bed now.
You know, for kids?These are hopefully soon (you know, once they're dry?) on their way to Okay! What's Next??'s Katy for her trip to the Ukraine in September. All the details are on her blog on the side bar-place/thingy.
It's actually not too late to make a hat for her to receive by Sept. 6th, you know you can do it! If my glacial speed is able to bust a hat out during the latest Olympic blah, blah, blah, I'll bet you can knit 7!
It's the drying that might make you miss the deadline though, SHEESH...hmmm, they are superwash, maybe I'll stick them in the dryer?
The specs:
* Pattern...um winged the bottom one. Got the basics from that Knit Hats! book I got a million years ago. Cast on 64 and GO! The bottom one has one of those purl rows to make the hem bend/fold, and I "basted" it as I knit/went because I hate finishing things...as is evidenced by my lack of showing you a pair of socks that still need grafting and Andy's latest hat that still needs ends woven in. I suppose I require deadlines, cuz yeah, I'm just as shocked as you are that there are two finished hats
* The yarn is Brown Sheep superwash bulky in Pine something...(obviously really good at losing labels around here, it's a gift.)
* Needles: US 10.5 for the top guy, US 10 for he whose folded over hem WILL NOT DRY.
I'm going to blame the humidity. Just a bit ago I checked and as my mom would say, "We're all square!" 64 degrees and 64% humidity. It's been like that all day! 80 degrees with matching humidity is what I biked home in. Although at just about the time I got to the scary place where I have to cross the railroad tracks...TWICE? It became 100% humidity. Yep, rain, in August. Mother Nature hates me.
And about my new toy:
If I have not called you it's because my snazzy new phone (more copper than orange, but pretty nonetheless) is too new to mind meld with my ancient old phone. What this means is that I have to MANUALLY add your # to my cell. Yep, that there is a whole bunch of no fun.
But it's a working phone, so call me and I will cheat and save your number that way :).
And about the drudgery that pays for all this:
We are in the middle of getting all the right bits and pieces together to close out the month, so if you don't hear from me for a few more days...it's cuz I'm drowning in paper. SAVE ME. Bring expensive wine and/or really sweet fru fru drinks...it looks like I'm not allergic to either! I sense a vicious circle brewing here...work harder so I can make enough money to buy the expensive wine, so I can work harder so I can...eeep.
I'm going to bed now.
Tuesday, August 05, 2008
Rating the Day by the Spots of Ink on My Arm!
So, is it just me? Or is it just a fantabulous day when you get out of work in the evening and you raise up your right arm (I'm right-handed, you lefties might choose the other) as if you are trying to get to know your elbow better and there are NO INK STAINS! It is just me, isn't it? No one else "loses" their uncapped pens and pulls out another, only to lose it 5 minutes later and grab yet another and then at the end of the day they are all there, laughing at you and how much ink you got on your arm because you didn't see the tip peeking out from under the statement you were using as reference to reconcile an account?
Gack, it is just me.
Whatever, I'm talkin' kaloo kalay here! I'm talkin' "you mean I don't have to try to wash out the ink I got ON MY SWEATER again!" It makes constantly stopping to readjust my chain as I ride home (more on that later) seem less of a pain in the butt.
I call that a day so full of good luck and wonder that I actually don't mind that the person who answered my Verizon customer service email was incorrect about my being able to NOT choose a particular feature when I tried to use technology and upgrade my cell phone for the very first time in the FIVE years I've had it/the plan/etc./ever. I just shrugged it off and called up customer service like the old lady I am and had him manually set me up with the orange one. Had I not declined the insurance, I might have agreed to smash it against a brick wall and watch it bounce when I get it (FRIDAY!!!).
PS, I have nothing against iPhones and/or Apples, I just think it'd be overkill to the nth degree for me. Instead I will bask in my soon to be new phone's ruggedness and not be afraid that I will destroy it if ever I should wipe out on my bicycle.
My bike. (Except I thought mine was an '03/'04 but the photos don't match.)
I am so very full of excuses for not riding it. Most of them, I am admitting whole-heartedly here, stemming from the mental blocks I have that were firmly embedded, as was the asphalt, just after my last big almost-shattered-my-hip accident that occurred DAYS before leaving the Big Island. I literally had the still-broken-bike (the guys at the shop said it was okay but could use a little love and tender care and maybe a new gear hub) packed up and shipped to Los Angeles, while I moved 503 miles north, to North Lake Tahoe. (BTW my cell phone? The one I still have? The cheapie hello kitty (I am 12) case I had on it was THRASHED, but the phone was awesome and survived.)
Does it surprise you that to ride my bike the 3.7 miles to work during the one summer month in Seattle (I do not joke, it was still pouring on July 31st; why do I live here again?) I need a whole bunch of conditions met? The stars finally aligned last Friday. (Except for the tune-up, which is why I have to keep kicking my hub to change gears and greasing up my fingers when putting the chain back on the gears when it tries to get back at me.)
I'm on a mission to try to get my hip and knee and maybe even my wrist up to par before the end of the year/before I visit my mom in November. It would be just totally awesome if I could lose the 12-15 (you know girls and their ever/hourly-changing weight) pounds I put on after the accident. But I consider that a bonus, whipped topping on the cake of life and all that. All I really want is my hip and my knee to stop acting as if they were 80 years old so that if my nephew wants to run up the street, I can chase after him without FEELING my hip or my knee. (Camping with a three-year-old? Yeah, that opened my eyes to just how bad it can be--i.e. where is my walker!)
Everything I've read and everyone I've spoken to says I should try to build up the muscles around the damage. So I am, slowly. Yey crunches and knee lifts and biking!
But lemme tell you it is so very hard to keep watching the numbers on that damned scale go UP when you are working so hard...I know, I know, muscle weighs more than fat, really I do, but there is nothing I can do to convince the non-logical parts of my brain, it would seem.
Gack, it is just me.
Whatever, I'm talkin' kaloo kalay here! I'm talkin' "you mean I don't have to try to wash out the ink I got ON MY SWEATER again!" It makes constantly stopping to readjust my chain as I ride home (more on that later) seem less of a pain in the butt.
I call that a day so full of good luck and wonder that I actually don't mind that the person who answered my Verizon customer service email was incorrect about my being able to NOT choose a particular feature when I tried to use technology and upgrade my cell phone for the very first time in the FIVE years I've had it/the plan/etc./ever. I just shrugged it off and called up customer service like the old lady I am and had him manually set me up with the orange one. Had I not declined the insurance, I might have agreed to smash it against a brick wall and watch it bounce when I get it (FRIDAY!!!).
PS, I have nothing against iPhones and/or Apples, I just think it'd be overkill to the nth degree for me. Instead I will bask in my soon to be new phone's ruggedness and not be afraid that I will destroy it if ever I should wipe out on my bicycle.
My bike. (Except I thought mine was an '03/'04 but the photos don't match.)
I am so very full of excuses for not riding it. Most of them, I am admitting whole-heartedly here, stemming from the mental blocks I have that were firmly embedded, as was the asphalt, just after my last big almost-shattered-my-hip accident that occurred DAYS before leaving the Big Island. I literally had the still-broken-bike (the guys at the shop said it was okay but could use a little love and tender care and maybe a new gear hub) packed up and shipped to Los Angeles, while I moved 503 miles north, to North Lake Tahoe. (BTW my cell phone? The one I still have? The cheapie hello kitty (I am 12) case I had on it was THRASHED, but the phone was awesome and survived.)
Does it surprise you that to ride my bike the 3.7 miles to work during the one summer month in Seattle (I do not joke, it was still pouring on July 31st; why do I live here again?) I need a whole bunch of conditions met? The stars finally aligned last Friday. (Except for the tune-up, which is why I have to keep kicking my hub to change gears and greasing up my fingers when putting the chain back on the gears when it tries to get back at me.)
I'm on a mission to try to get my hip and knee and maybe even my wrist up to par before the end of the year/before I visit my mom in November. It would be just totally awesome if I could lose the 12-15 (you know girls and their ever/hourly-changing weight) pounds I put on after the accident. But I consider that a bonus, whipped topping on the cake of life and all that. All I really want is my hip and my knee to stop acting as if they were 80 years old so that if my nephew wants to run up the street, I can chase after him without FEELING my hip or my knee. (Camping with a three-year-old? Yeah, that opened my eyes to just how bad it can be--i.e. where is my walker!)
Everything I've read and everyone I've spoken to says I should try to build up the muscles around the damage. So I am, slowly. Yey crunches and knee lifts and biking!
But lemme tell you it is so very hard to keep watching the numbers on that damned scale go UP when you are working so hard...I know, I know, muscle weighs more than fat, really I do, but there is nothing I can do to convince the non-logical parts of my brain, it would seem.
Friday, August 01, 2008
Random Friday!
...Cuz I Just Can't Keep the Days Straight Right Now
1) So there was an earthquake in LA on Tuesday. What struck me as super weird/synchronicitous was the fact that it was the same day we received an email from facilities to be aware we'd be having an earthquake drill, here, in Seattle this week.
-Yes, I called my mom. Yes, she and everyone around her were fine. They barely felt it after the initial "jump." As the house is not on a flat/slab foundation like everyone else in the neighborhood, I asked that one of them go down to the basement "area" and check to make sure everything was still as precariously balanced as it was before. I have memories of Victorian houses being torn down in Santa Cruz throughout my time there because the houses had "jumped" their foundations during the Loma Prieta quake. Such a shame.
-Yes, I called my brother. I did. We spoke! He told me he was fine and that everything downtown was fine. There was more "rolling" there, so it was a more "normal" feeling quake.
-About then is when my cell battery died so I'm sorry if I didn't call you to check on you, Richard, Rudy, Maria, and any and all wayward friends who would rather not be mentioned on my blog :). It's not that I don't care, it's that I knew if I didn't call my mom she'd think the earthquake destroyed Seattle or something.
2) Susie-homemaker/M.Stewart I am not. Ask me to help you fix the vacuum cleaner, and I am so there. Ask me to vacuum...yeah right. However, if your housemate/bestfriend/S.O./family member/person you love/etc. et.al/you, maybe, happens to burn their chicken for Chicken Parmesan on an all-clad skillet non-non-stick, stainless steel skillet? Don't cry. Don't go out and spend too much on any cleaner. Here's what you do:
3) And just how much do you think these will go for?
4) I think my tea-totaling self might be giving up alcohol for good...or maybe just cheap wine and non-sugary drinks.
I had a sip of an old reliable (read as cheap!) wine the night before last and I broke out in burning red hives all over.
It could be anything, the histamines that the yeast produces, the sulphates, the pesticides used on the grapes, the enzyme I seem to lack that apparently breaks down alcohol -- this is the funny tangent-esque connection: So it's called "Asian flush." It's the red-face that Asians get when they have even a sip of alcohol because of that missing enzyme. I already lack those enzymes required to fully digest pork (I didn't mention this?) so it's not surprising that I might have this problem too. Except I don't get the racing heart and until last night I didn't get the heat associated with the flush. But I'm not Asian? Maybe?
No really! There is that theory that my ancestors came from Asia. It's not all that long ago that the Spanish came in to decimate the natives of Mexico, and genetics is a hoot...hi, I glow in the dark, I'm so pale? So why not? The "cure" according to some Asian guys who posted about this somewhere on the internets is to have sugar before or with your alcomohol. Well, hello expensive (better quality grapes and yeast) fru fru drinks for me!
5) Is there a five? I had a five before, but I didn't get around to posting this until today instead of yesterday so my grand news of their being an total eclipse of the sun on August 1st isn't so dramatic as it happened already and pretty much no where I could have seen it. Oh well.
It's aloha Friday! You know I miss that...dressing up in bright happy colored clothes maybe with a big ol' plumeria on something to celebrate aloha Friday? It's probably because these storms and humidity make me feel like I'm back in Hilo.
Hmm, that could have been #6, but that would ruin my OCD-esque need for only 5 things...
1) So there was an earthquake in LA on Tuesday. What struck me as super weird/synchronicitous was the fact that it was the same day we received an email from facilities to be aware we'd be having an earthquake drill, here, in Seattle this week.
-Yes, I called my mom. Yes, she and everyone around her were fine. They barely felt it after the initial "jump." As the house is not on a flat/slab foundation like everyone else in the neighborhood, I asked that one of them go down to the basement "area" and check to make sure everything was still as precariously balanced as it was before. I have memories of Victorian houses being torn down in Santa Cruz throughout my time there because the houses had "jumped" their foundations during the Loma Prieta quake. Such a shame.
-Yes, I called my brother. I did. We spoke! He told me he was fine and that everything downtown was fine. There was more "rolling" there, so it was a more "normal" feeling quake.
-About then is when my cell battery died so I'm sorry if I didn't call you to check on you, Richard, Rudy, Maria, and any and all wayward friends who would rather not be mentioned on my blog :). It's not that I don't care, it's that I knew if I didn't call my mom she'd think the earthquake destroyed Seattle or something.
2) Susie-homemaker/M.Stewart I am not. Ask me to help you fix the vacuum cleaner, and I am so there. Ask me to vacuum...yeah right. However, if your housemate/bestfriend/S.O./family member/person you love/etc. et.al/you, maybe, happens to burn their chicken for Chicken Parmesan on an all-clad skillet non-non-stick, stainless steel skillet? Don't cry. Don't go out and spend too much on any cleaner. Here's what you do:
- Take that box of $.59 baking soda and powder-up the bottom of the pan.
- Add enough water to make a paste and leave it overnight.
- In the morning add about an inch or two of water. Put it to boil for a bit...I think I left it rolling for 5 minutes.
- Take it off the heat. On one site I read that you can take a wooden spoon and scrape off the big chunks at this point. I didn't have the big chunks to try this out with, but I'm sure it would work.
- Let cool.
- Dump out the water and I don't know if it's necessary, but I used a drop of dish washing soap and started scrubbing and was sad that nothing was coming off.
- So in a "it can't hurt" moment, I added a couple tablespoons of baking soda....AND MAGIC HAPPENED. I started to scrub and everything just came off with no elbow grease whatsoever!
3) And just how much do you think these will go for?
4) I think my tea-totaling self might be giving up alcohol for good...or maybe just cheap wine and non-sugary drinks.
I had a sip of an old reliable (read as cheap!) wine the night before last and I broke out in burning red hives all over.
It could be anything, the histamines that the yeast produces, the sulphates, the pesticides used on the grapes, the enzyme I seem to lack that apparently breaks down alcohol -- this is the funny tangent-esque connection: So it's called "Asian flush." It's the red-face that Asians get when they have even a sip of alcohol because of that missing enzyme. I already lack those enzymes required to fully digest pork (I didn't mention this?) so it's not surprising that I might have this problem too. Except I don't get the racing heart and until last night I didn't get the heat associated with the flush. But I'm not Asian? Maybe?
No really! There is that theory that my ancestors came from Asia. It's not all that long ago that the Spanish came in to decimate the natives of Mexico, and genetics is a hoot...hi, I glow in the dark, I'm so pale? So why not? The "cure" according to some Asian guys who posted about this somewhere on the internets is to have sugar before or with your alcomohol. Well, hello expensive (better quality grapes and yeast) fru fru drinks for me!
5) Is there a five? I had a five before, but I didn't get around to posting this until today instead of yesterday so my grand news of their being an total eclipse of the sun on August 1st isn't so dramatic as it happened already and pretty much no where I could have seen it. Oh well.
It's aloha Friday! You know I miss that...dressing up in bright happy colored clothes maybe with a big ol' plumeria on something to celebrate aloha Friday? It's probably because these storms and humidity make me feel like I'm back in Hilo.
Hmm, that could have been #6, but that would ruin my OCD-esque need for only 5 things...
Tuesday, July 29, 2008
I Palidrome I...
So fun on so many Levels.
If you can't see the video I've embedded, it's here.
"Go hang a salami, I'm a Lasagna hog..."
Brilliant!
If you can't see the video I've embedded, it's here.
"Go hang a salami, I'm a Lasagna hog..."
Brilliant!
Sunday, July 27, 2008
Sunday Already?
I've been in a fog...
No, that's a lie. I think I've been rather down and really missing things like family and close friends and small children who will hug you.
It's not really nostalgia, cuz that would mean I miss being the little kid hugging people and those are memories I'd rather not have, thanks. I am here to tell you that I hated that whole "hugging adults I don't know" thing with every ounce of my being. Absolutely HATED being touched by adults that I barely knew or was vaguely related to, especially if they were super drunk cuz they'd been hangin' with my dad and you had to kiss their beer-smelling cheeks and ugh, go away smelly man, stop touching me smelly ho-bag-dressed woman (think that "aunt" George Lopez is always describing)...yeah, I have some pretty vivid pictures in my head.
I don't hug kids if I've been drinking. Hell, I don't get near them if my Spidey-Sense (TM) tells me, "this kid does not like you, do not interact with them; wave from afar!" I'm kinda super-aware of these things in the same way I'm super unaware of most subtle happenings
that other adults are "getting" (i.e. flirting, imminent fist-fight about to happen, head-on collision approaching, etc.).
Where was I? Right. People. Around me. Missing them.
I'm part of a small group of friends who don't find it too crazy when I hug them hello or good-bye. We never speak of it, it kinda just happens and they go with the flow. I might see them three times in one week, but if I hug them, they don't mention it or roll their eyes (or at least wait until I leave the room before they talk about the weirdo I have become in my old age.) I think it's a given that this is stemming from the distance we all are from our families and/or the lack of enough people-you-trust contact.
I don't come from a "huggy" family. If my niece, nephew or younger brother ever read this, they will not believe me. Really, my mom? When I was a kid? Not much hugging. I don't know if it was me or her. If I needed to cuddle with someone, it was my teddy bear (well, actually a huge pink mal-formed basset-hound thing from my god-mother) or maybe my dad, when I was really little. All bets were off after I turned about 9 or ten-ish.
Affection is an odd thing. Carol Lay put it best in her "licked rat" comic strip, "Licker is Quicker." I wonder sometimes, a lot recently, actually, if I'd have developed a greater sense/had any ambition if I felt the "licked rat" support. Cuz, really? I don't. Have much ambition that is. I'm not out to save the world. I don't care if my name falls to obscurity when I die. I hope to leave a very tiny footprint in my wake. Most of my family can't even remember who I am or what I look like. I have no need to change this. No need to see my name in lights.
I feel really happy and proud when my friends make it! But no sense of wishing I were them.
Sorry, this is the head-space I've been n recently. This is what happens when I have too much "all by myself" time at work. I am really good at multitasking. Adding to my every growing list of superpowers: able to reconcile credit cards statements and dwell on the emptiness that I feel in my life.
But at any rate, I'm still here.
No, that's a lie. I think I've been rather down and really missing things like family and close friends and small children who will hug you.
It's not really nostalgia, cuz that would mean I miss being the little kid hugging people and those are memories I'd rather not have, thanks. I am here to tell you that I hated that whole "hugging adults I don't know" thing with every ounce of my being. Absolutely HATED being touched by adults that I barely knew or was vaguely related to, especially if they were super drunk cuz they'd been hangin' with my dad and you had to kiss their beer-smelling cheeks and ugh, go away smelly man, stop touching me smelly ho-bag-dressed woman (think that "aunt" George Lopez is always describing)...yeah, I have some pretty vivid pictures in my head.
I don't hug kids if I've been drinking. Hell, I don't get near them if my Spidey-Sense (TM) tells me, "this kid does not like you, do not interact with them; wave from afar!" I'm kinda super-aware of these things in the same way I'm super unaware of most subtle happenings
that other adults are "getting" (i.e. flirting, imminent fist-fight about to happen, head-on collision approaching, etc.).
Where was I? Right. People. Around me. Missing them.
I'm part of a small group of friends who don't find it too crazy when I hug them hello or good-bye. We never speak of it, it kinda just happens and they go with the flow. I might see them three times in one week, but if I hug them, they don't mention it or roll their eyes (or at least wait until I leave the room before they talk about the weirdo I have become in my old age.) I think it's a given that this is stemming from the distance we all are from our families and/or the lack of enough people-you-trust contact.
I don't come from a "huggy" family. If my niece, nephew or younger brother ever read this, they will not believe me. Really, my mom? When I was a kid? Not much hugging. I don't know if it was me or her. If I needed to cuddle with someone, it was my teddy bear (well, actually a huge pink mal-formed basset-hound thing from my god-mother) or maybe my dad, when I was really little. All bets were off after I turned about 9 or ten-ish.
Affection is an odd thing. Carol Lay put it best in her "licked rat" comic strip, "Licker is Quicker." I wonder sometimes, a lot recently, actually, if I'd have developed a greater sense/had any ambition if I felt the "licked rat" support. Cuz, really? I don't. Have much ambition that is. I'm not out to save the world. I don't care if my name falls to obscurity when I die. I hope to leave a very tiny footprint in my wake. Most of my family can't even remember who I am or what I look like. I have no need to change this. No need to see my name in lights.
I feel really happy and proud when my friends make it! But no sense of wishing I were them.
Sorry, this is the head-space I've been n recently. This is what happens when I have too much "all by myself" time at work. I am really good at multitasking. Adding to my every growing list of superpowers: able to reconcile credit cards statements and dwell on the emptiness that I feel in my life.
But at any rate, I'm still here.
Tuesday, July 22, 2008
It's The View, Right?
Two dogs (one crazy, one really old), 2 kids (one age 3, one age 3 months(!)), 2 tired parents, 2 single people totally unprepared for the chaos that is CAMPING WITH KIDS.
You know how nature tends to make you like breathe deeper and give you all this energy and stuff? Yeah, me neither, but apparently the kids were super-charged and stayed up way past my bedtime. I seriously went to bed BEFORE the three-year-old.
But not to sounds of nature or screaming babies (there there were some--screaming babies, but not ours); instead I fell asleep to the dulcet tones of Michael Jackson. As Nancy commented, "Who goes camping to blast their stereo?" It could have been super annoying, but as it was the Thriller album, or something similar, it was just vaguely nostalgic and mildly disturbing.
Would I do it again?
Yep. As stressful as these things can get, I thought it was on the mild side. All plans were out of my hands and not quite knowing what we were supposed to be doing ended up being fine (I am a super control-freak at times and at first I thought all this "not knowing the plan" would drive me bananas...guess not. I kept playing the Beastie Boyz in my head to keep me settled, you know, "Let it flow, let yourself go, slow and low, that is the temp-o?" Yeah, that one. (Did I get that in your head? Sorry. I'd link to it so you can get it out of your system, but I have no sound to make sure I've given you the right song.) It's like the advice I keep giving all these people planning weddings recently? Don't stress, the guests will never know "what could have been." Yeah, I need to take that attitude more often myself.
We were car-camping. And with the 3-month old as an attendee, I knew I wouldn't exactly have to pack my hiking boots. In fact, I wore my birks the entire time. Once the temps went down, hello happy yellow socks I haven't worn since winter!
YEP, my hip and butt HURT. I is an old woman and as tufty as the ground was, there was still not enough give for my awesome child-bearing hips, you know? I am very thankful for the inventor of the modern-day mattress.
We got the absolute last campsite available in all of Oregon (or so it seemed) in the most open and non-shaded spot possible. But at least we got something. 
Our view.
Our view.You know how nature tends to make you like breathe deeper and give you all this energy and stuff? Yeah, me neither, but apparently the kids were super-charged and stayed up way past my bedtime. I seriously went to bed BEFORE the three-year-old.
But not to sounds of nature or screaming babies (there there were some--screaming babies, but not ours); instead I fell asleep to the dulcet tones of Michael Jackson. As Nancy commented, "Who goes camping to blast their stereo?" It could have been super annoying, but as it was the Thriller album, or something similar, it was just vaguely nostalgic and mildly disturbing.
Would I do it again?
Yep. As stressful as these things can get, I thought it was on the mild side. All plans were out of my hands and not quite knowing what we were supposed to be doing ended up being fine (I am a super control-freak at times and at first I thought all this "not knowing the plan" would drive me bananas...guess not. I kept playing the Beastie Boyz in my head to keep me settled, you know, "Let it flow, let yourself go, slow and low, that is the temp-o?" Yeah, that one. (Did I get that in your head? Sorry. I'd link to it so you can get it out of your system, but I have no sound to make sure I've given you the right song.) It's like the advice I keep giving all these people planning weddings recently? Don't stress, the guests will never know "what could have been." Yeah, I need to take that attitude more often myself.
We were car-camping. And with the 3-month old as an attendee, I knew I wouldn't exactly have to pack my hiking boots. In fact, I wore my birks the entire time. Once the temps went down, hello happy yellow socks I haven't worn since winter!YEP, my hip and butt HURT. I is an old woman and as tufty as the ground was, there was still not enough give for my awesome child-bearing hips, you know? I am very thankful for the inventor of the modern-day mattress.
Friday, July 18, 2008
I Should Be Sleeping...
As I am leaving at the hairy butt crack of dawn (attractive, I know, and yes, I do kiss my mommy with this mouth) to go camping in the AM (hence the tent in the living room a few days ago, you know, practice).
My X used to say that the best tent was one you could set up in the dark WAY AFTER you'd gotten yourself too messed up to think straight. This is not a difficult thing for this tea-totaler to accomplish. However A) I grew up, B) I'm a stickler for setting up camp before dark, and C) am a big ol' anal retentive child and would never leave my sleeping arrangements to last-minute-in-the dark, damn where are the tent-stakes- and what the hell did I just step-in-chance.
Right, where was I?
That's right. Being distracted.
You too. Go here, watch the three acts, you'll love it! It's only supposed to be up for a limited time, Sunday maybe?
I need some chamomile tea or something.
My X used to say that the best tent was one you could set up in the dark WAY AFTER you'd gotten yourself too messed up to think straight. This is not a difficult thing for this tea-totaler to accomplish. However A) I grew up, B) I'm a stickler for setting up camp before dark, and C) am a big ol' anal retentive child and would never leave my sleeping arrangements to last-minute-in-the dark, damn where are the tent-stakes- and what the hell did I just step-in-chance.
Right, where was I?
That's right. Being distracted.
You too. Go here, watch the three acts, you'll love it! It's only supposed to be up for a limited time, Sunday maybe?
I need some chamomile tea or something.
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