It's Only Pretty if You Don't Have to Go Mucking About in it

I'm sorry I doubted you, oh Gods of Snow & Icy Roads. Or maybe it was the trees? Because up close as they are? They look kinda sad and dejected and full of remorse. But with the way they've been whipping about this morning? The gusting winds should soon have them cleared of most of the snow. But um, hai? GUSTY? WINDS?

Winter is just letting us know that the groundhog was right.

But those same gusty winds are showing some blue sky a'la Tahoe...and that is just so perty. Man I am so rockin' the nostalgia right now.

Dear God, It's Almost March...

And did I mention this is Seattle and not oh, I dunno, Lake Tahoe?

Yes, yes, I remember sitting around with Andy watching the snow engulf us the day his nephew was born. In June. We even took a picture.

June!

Snow!

But as I said, that was North Lake Tahoe over a mile closer to the sky and stuff.

But, snow?

In Seattle?

Again?

Though the later it gets the less and less likely it will be that we city-folk see any...but to the North and South they are buried. This means I will still have to call my mom to let her know that I am not in winter wonderland. No matter how many times they say Bellingham, Darrington, and who knows what other places that are NOT Seattle.

This is, after all, the same person who would call me in Santa Cruz, CA asking if I'd felt the earthquake that occurred 80 miles to the North of San Francisco...and would worry about my being in the Northern part of the state of Michoacan when all those people in the state of Chiapas were rebelling.

Maps, they make the world look a little small sometimes. I guess it's a good thing she never knew about the active volcano on the island I used to live on...

You Just Keep On Trying 'til You Run Out of Cake...

It's a new thing, or maybe it's just Andy's TV?

I get nauseous whenever I watch him play "first-person-shooters."  But only if all you can see is the main character's hand/gun.   I mean, Lara Croft did not make me want to hurl because of the screen movement, her outfit on the other hand, well, let's just say Andy chose pants over shorts whenever I was in the room.  And Prince of Persia has come a long way in animation (I actually played this one), but man the dialog is what makes me sick.  But not as sick as I got when companion cubes were being chucked about in search of cake--that was the point of the game right?  The credits song certainly makes it seem that way.

And yet, I loved watching Portal...as sick as it made me.

Or maybe I just liked the idea of the cake?

Speaking of which...I made too much chocolate cake last week...Wednesday night just before Lost, to be exact.  I know, I know, how dare can I say "too much" and "chocolate" and "cake" all in one sentence!?!  

Well, since there's still some in my refrigerator...and I think I'm good for cake for a while...you be the judge.  But you know you've made too much of anything when you don't want nennymore never, ever... until maybe next month for my birthday, right?

This has yet to happen to me with ice cream.

Hmmm, I think I need to peruse ice cream cakes.

More later, promise.

Onions...Parfaits...Either Way, My Butt Hurts

Can I go home?

Yes, I am that dumb ass that comes in to work even when maybe having a desk-job is not the very best for a damaged hip.  But, momma needs a new pair of shoes (literally), and in this economy it's best to make sure that you are not seen as the slacker in the department who maybe should be shaved off to save a few bills, ya'know?

Where was I?

Right.

So I've been seeing this Osteopath, for Osteopathic purposes only, of course...though he has put his hands on my  backside enough for most people to say it's a committed relationship :).  But I've never been "most people."  Dr. W. is making my hip go back to where it's supposed to be, and not where it's ended up-thanks to various and sundry bike/boat/life accidents.

Today he realized one of my legs was too short because the big mass of owie (I know, I get all technical here) was actually pulling my leg up into its socket too much, which in turn was causing massive amounts of torsion and pulling and more owies when I went out and did novel things as walked!  Or climbed stairs!  I know, I am so very adventuresome. 

What he realized though, was that my last accident could not have caused this damage.  Oh no.  Apparently we are able to see through time via my buttocks to April of 2003 when I slammed my tailbone into the sole of the cabin floor whilst enroute to Hawai'i from Mexico aboard the sailing vessel Irish Rose....

Ah, memories.

Because yes, boys and girls, your damage is like an onion (or parfait if you prefer).  And in order to heal and be 100% you have to be willing to fix things layer by layer, digging deeper and deeper into very old wounds that you thought were all healed up.

Surprise!

They are not.  Especially as we are all prone to having old big owies slapped shut with crazy glue and duct tape M*A*S*H-style instead of going through the correct healing and doctoring procedures (who has the time, energy, patience and money!!)  and now, many years later, those old war wounds are a part of you, and maybe they shouldn't be.  

This may sound twisted...but I feel like I should really thank that guy who nearly killed me back in August...if it hadn't been for him decimating my bike and nearly running me over with his huge Ford pickup truck, I'd have never mentioned to Dr. K about the hip pain during my yearly.  She would then never have had the suggestion to recommend Dr. W as a good hip guy.  He'd have never worked on the lopsidedness or the leg stress or now the "sheering" damage that I have packed away in my derriere just asking for bursitis or arthritis to come on in and nest.

The State of Washington just sent me a form letter asking if I wanted to "pursue damages" from truck-driver-guy.  I'm a big believer in Karma, so my first instinct was "no" on the simple fact that I really would not want someone being that awful to me.  After today's appointment?  I really do feel like I'm being thanked for recycling that letter.  Not only am I getting better from the latest trauma from my body, but maybe, just maybe (if I don't find a way to damage myself some more--keep your fingers crossed) I'll be able to heal for real from stuff that's been a burden to my tired and not-old-enough-to-hurt-this-much body.

Okay, I Had Something Completely Different In Mind to Post About...

Then I was directed HERE.
Even if you don't make your own hero? Bonnie Tyler's I Need A Hero blasting in the background makes it worth the visit.


And if like me you just NEED to watch the original video, complete with shoulder-shimmy and big hair and back Fx? Here you go:

Ode to the Forgotten Banana

Yellow,

And just ripe enough to color my fingernail

But not so ripe as to attract the gnats

That so recently have invaded our work area.

Banana, 

How I miss you,

Waiting diligently on the counter

While I sit here morose...and a little hungry.

(I guess I should be grateful it was only my banana...I left my entire bag right by the door yesterday morning.  10-hour work days are just not in me anymore.)

New Mug!

One thing that should probably go on one of those "3,000 quirky/cute/scary things about me" list is that I really hate losing things...either because they are misplaced, stolen, or broken.

I think this stems from not being able to replace such objects when I was a kid.

Even though this is no longer the case? I still kinda freak out a little inside (and maybe outside sometimes) if there is a chance, no matter how minuscule, that I can re-obtain the object that is no longer in my possession (I'm super thinking of the night I lost my scarf "somewhere" in Fremont...such a bad night. Yes, I did find it again...yes, I am am a little scary.)

Anywho...mug!

I draw the line at trying to glue shattered ceramic back together again. No, really! I swept up the mug pieces Sunday morning and gave it an unceremonious garbage-can burial. The only thing that brightened my day about it was that I knew we were going to the Sci-Fi Museum and I just knew they sold cheesy mugs in the Seattle Center shops so I might find something to my liking to fill the now empty mug spot in the cabinet:
I have to say this is much cooler looking than the one it is replacing.  Although part of the coolness of the broken mug was that it was free...this one, not so much, and maybe kinda overpriced, but lalala not gonna think about it, I have a spiffy new mug!

And the museum was kinda cool.  They have tons of really old sci-fi novels that pull you into the worlds created by authors and movie makers and dude they have both Robby (originally made for Forbidden Planet) and B-9 (from Lost in Space) Not to mention Zora's raincoat and Rachel's and Sebastian's outfits from BladeRunner.  And yeah, tons of props from old TV shows and movies.  I liked it a lot...but the "Hall of Fame" is really only a wall...and maybe I miscounted...are there really only 5 female authors on that wall?  A post for another day, I think.

Extra bonus?  The Music Experience/Museum is part of the same entry fee.   Not so much into the music thing...I know, you're shocked :).  But it was amusing to see how many of my favorite bands from the 90s have Seattle roots.  I had no idea.  

Chocolate-Thirty

You know how there's that "beer-thirty" phrase/excuse people use for justification of a cold one at just after noon?

Is there such a time for when chocolate consumption should occur?  

Just a random thought as they've started out my Monday morning with chocolate offerings at work.  I'm not so much complaining as wondering just how bad it's gonna be if they're already plying us with sweets at 8 AM...

If it had been coffee cake or danishes I might have been the first one to get my share...but chocolate?  At this hour?  I must not be as big an addict as I am portrayed :).

Omens...

- A very bad dream forced me out of bed just a bit ago.

- While I was making coffee to distract myself from the dream...I smashed one of my favorite mugs to pieces.

- Coming into this room to lament about the cup and think about not thinking about the dream...the lightbulb blew out as I flipped the switch.

If I were full-blown superstitious I might crawl back into bed right this minute.

Instead I choose to thing of the "bad things happen in threes" scenario. I'm done for the day, nothing but rainbows and lollipops from here on out, right? Right.

ETA:
Okay, the yarn I picked for a prize was already chosen....but I'm totally gonna ignore that one because I'm going to have a good day, damnit!

To brighten anyone else's Sunday that is going into the pooper: Seth Meyers on the Michael Phelps thing...

"The knuckles! The horrible knuckles!"

-Terry Pratchett The Light Fantastic

Yes, I might be rereading the series, but only as a reward for reading through the last of those vampire books. Besides, the discworld books seem to have far fewer holds on them than some of the other books I'd like to be reading. Workin' with what I can here.

Anyway...so you know when you knit something and give it away, but you took a picture of it(!) for posterity and of course, the blog! And were so proud you remembered! And then you go to post it and realize that maybe, unless your eyes are deceiving you, there might be a bit of a goof up in your work:

Darkside Cowl (ravelry link here).

Do you see my big oopsie? Look dead center, one of these rows is not like the other ones...

Of course being positioned where it is, maybe it's a feature! Something to make it unique! Or something.

See, my coworker was going off to the bay area to go be a bike-riding grad-student. Having been a bike-riding grad-student about ten years previous...maybe 12...in almost the same area, I knew her big ol' super cool woven scarf might not quite be as useful...i.e. too hot and yet unless it's summer, it's not quite warm enough to go out and about exposing your neck and stuff. Besides, a cowl is less likely to get stuck in her spokes...consider me a cautionary tale on that one and move on.

Specks:

- So technically this is my last knit of 2008. Yep, it's taken me almost 2 whole months to post about it...I know! Bad! For shame and all that.

- I pretty much followed the pattern using Lambs Pride Superwash Bulky (grad student, 'member) in Pine until I almost ran out but wasn't done yet so I grabbed a similar Pine that was not bulky but held two ends together to fake it.

I like the fit, and I would have had the recipient model it but she received it still damp as her plans shifted to have her leave two days sooner than I thought she was gonna...but it fit, she told me later.

I'm thinking I need to try the pattern again with maybe the yarn that had only recently been a much too loose cowl...Not that I need a cowl for my bike riding...seeing as there hasn't been any bike riding...still need to get my bike fixed. I know, I know, it's been almost 6 months...but I've got a couple more appointments with my new best friend the Osteopath to see if I can make my hip not hurt so much when I do things like walk. Details!

Learning to Save Me from Myself...

Or is it myself from myself?  Me from me?  I'm sure the grammar nazi's will help me out there :).

It is February!  When did that happen?  I'm a broken record, I know, but I swear, I was just in January and that went zipping by way too fast as well.

And now February is almost a week gone!  (Well, it seems like it anyway.)

It's the J.O.B.  I feel like 2 weeks of every month are taken from me as I disappear from the world and try to keep afloat.  They are not consecutive weeks, however...and sometimes an extra week of frantic run-around is thrown in just for shits and grins...

And no, I will not be raised from this position to be dropped into something just as frantic but with better pay.  It's not official, but being in the place I am, with access to the gossip mill I do...I know they've hired someone, and that someone is definitely not me...  But really, I knew two weeks or so ago what my chances really were... and really?  I'm fine with it.  No, really.

When the news came my way it was broken with a whole bunch of reasons why that job was poopie and my job was better...  

- Such as: My current position will only get better as the "new guy" becomes the "not-new guy."

- And: That position is only good if you're planning on never getting a job outside of this industry/particular NGO seeing as you will not exactly gain "marketable" skills in US accounting.  But if I were to say, move to Kenya, yeah, I suppose that would be helpful.  

- Also: My team loves me more.

These phrases and bits of information really were kinda nice to hear.  See, me, I don't suck, that job does!  Yeah, that's it!  My job is the bestest!  Yep, sure is... Sure would hate to be that new person they hired, yessire, Bob!

And why yes, it's not even noon and there is a whole bunch of ink splotched onto my arm already, why do you ask?

I know, I know, if the sarcasm were any thicker we'd all need some windex to try to read the screen more easily.  See, I'm still learning to save me from me, after all.  I fully admit to that.  

I'm not making any proclamations here, I just know that this year marks my 35th year on this planet.  I'm not saying it needs to be a landmark year or anything...or maybe I'm just thinking back to that palm reading I had done when I was like 15...I sometimes refer back to it when I'm super not sober... MM said something big would happen in my mid-thirties...how mid can you get but 35?  And having been stuck in super-nostalgia-land (nothing forces you back there more roughly than peeps who you went to HS trying to "friend" you on Facebook) lately, I'm torn between dwelling on those years and shaking it all off and trying to, I dunno, LIVE my life now.  In the now?  For the now?

I sense change coming, now matter what...maybe so minuscule you all won't even notice...maybe so huge we will all feel the reverberations.  2009, the year of shaking off the stagnation...or something.

Bloggers' (Silent) Poetry Reading, Year the 4th

Almost missed it this year....go here for details.

LIFE IS BUT A DREAM

by: Lewis Carroll (1832-1898)

BOAT, beneath a sunny sky
Lingering onward dreamily
In an evening of July--

Children three that nestle near,
Eager eye and willing ear,
Pleased a simple tale to hear--

Long has paled that sunny sky;
Echoes fade and memories die;
Autumn frosts have slain July.

Still she haunts me, phantomwise,
Alice moving under skies
Never seen by waking eyes.

Children yet, the tale to hear,
Eager eye and willing ear,
Lovingly shall nestle near.

In a Wonderland they lie,
Dreaming as the days go by,
Dreaming as the summers die;

Ever drifting down the stream--
Lingering in the golden gleam--
Life, what is it but a dream?