and easily swayed.
moving to wordpress. its all shiny and junk.
http://autumnrouse.wordpress.com/
so...
GR Corolla: Toyota Dispatches a Fixer
1 month ago
Wednesday, June 11, 2008
Tuesday, June 10, 2008
in the event of the apocalypse
turns out, i'll be well fixed for shampoo.
i think this is weird.
i'm not especially fussy about my hair. i kinda hate it actually. by which i mean to say, we have a very adversarial relationship. it wants to curl, though i wish it was straight. it grows where i do not want it to and will not grow where i do want it to. it's not really the color i'd like it to be... blah blah blah.
that being said, i seem vaguely obsessed with the acquisition of products to pamper, train, or otherwise interact with said adversary. i cleaned out under my sink recently and came up with no less than 18 different kinds of shampoo. not just additional bottles, no. because whenever i am in the store, and i see shampoo, i think to myself "huh, i could use some of that..."
so, i figure, everybody has something they hoard. and i'm not talking about a collection. or something, like, useful or worthwhile in its own right. instead i mean some grooming product, cleaning supply, household item that no matter how much you already have, how many varieties already have tried, you cannot resist the chance to try again, to have a little more.
maybe between the lot of us we can avoid the drugstore for the next decade or so....
i think this is weird.
i'm not especially fussy about my hair. i kinda hate it actually. by which i mean to say, we have a very adversarial relationship. it wants to curl, though i wish it was straight. it grows where i do not want it to and will not grow where i do want it to. it's not really the color i'd like it to be... blah blah blah.
that being said, i seem vaguely obsessed with the acquisition of products to pamper, train, or otherwise interact with said adversary. i cleaned out under my sink recently and came up with no less than 18 different kinds of shampoo. not just additional bottles, no. because whenever i am in the store, and i see shampoo, i think to myself "huh, i could use some of that..."
so, i figure, everybody has something they hoard. and i'm not talking about a collection. or something, like, useful or worthwhile in its own right. instead i mean some grooming product, cleaning supply, household item that no matter how much you already have, how many varieties already have tried, you cannot resist the chance to try again, to have a little more.
maybe between the lot of us we can avoid the drugstore for the next decade or so....
Monday, June 9, 2008
hodie's new school
so, after 4 fine years at MLC hodie will be going transferring to our neighborhood school Bridlemile in the fall. we decided this for a host of reasons, and we're pretty excited about it, although i must admit i'll sort of miss the bragging rights associated with being the parent of an MLC childling.
turns out though, that the academtic rating on this neighborhood school is actually better than MLC (which is a magnet) and more than one of the parents i met today had actually pulled their kid out of montessori/private school and applied for transfer into Bridlemile since it's such a good school. sweet!
so, sacrificing nothing in terms of quality of education, we are gaining the following:
1) neighborhood kids & activities. the nature of the magnet is that the kids come from all quadrants of the town and usually don't live near one another. nice for a varied demographic, not nice for playdates.
2) more "authentic" school experience. as much as i loved the touchy feel-y child centered education model for her when she was a kindergartener, the older she gets, the more structure i think she needs. not to mention the concept of grades (which they don't do at MLC) and a less insular social model. moreover they are getting ready to stick her class into 2 years of split grade, which we did not love the last time we did it.
3) SCHOOL BUS! WOOT! i have been driving her back and forth to school for 4 years. i'm tired.
so, on the whole, we're happy! and today was the open house for the school so they could come over and meet their new teacher. i thought after being so used to MLC, the least i could do was let hodie have one day to look around the new school and meet her new teacher so it wasn't completely overwhelming come fall.
and so i sat in my sub-adult sized chair in the library while she went off to meet her new teacher. i spoke with a whole new set of highly-entitled snarky parents (not leaving them behind apparently), and waited for her to come back and give me her impressions.
they had the whole experience set up to try and ease the kids into the transition. one step in this process was each of the outgoing 4th graders from Miss Good's class wrote a letter to an incoming member. you know, give them a little inside scoop, some insight into the 4th grade experience. well, what follows was the letter for hodie. (spelling and tense errors are those of the author and reproduced faithfully)
June 6th, 2008
Dear New 4th grader,
HI! My name is (not actually going to post the name). I'm 10 years olf and I was in Miss Good's class. I don't know how I did it but all I now is that it was torchure with Miss Good.
When I found out I was in Miss Good's class I was freaking out!!! I didn't kno what it would be like. I heard so much thinks about her like "she is the worst teacher ever!" or "She is SO Mean!!" And alot more.
Just to be nice I'm going to give you some tips on how to survive Miss Good's class. One is do NOT I repet do NOT turn in eney thing late!! She hats that. The second one is if you arnt paying attention she will get MAD!!! And the last one is never LIE!! If you do sometimes she knows it. Thank you for reading this note.
Sincerely, (not actually going to post the name)
bwahahahahahahaha. ahem. not exactly the most reassuring note. one must consider the source i suppose, but hodie is now totally paranoid that her new teacher is a tyrant with a lie detector embedded in her head. so, that's awesome.
can't wait til fall!!
Kung Fu Panda
took hodie to see this one on saturday and really enjoyed it.
i am a fan of jack black, so this definitely must be considered in that context. and this film is a very typically "Black" comedy. lots of fat jokes, goof humor, and general silliness.
the opening sequence has a sumptuous stylized look that i really liked; very asian chic al-la samurai jack. charming, funny, fast-paced narration from jack lead to giggles galore.
once the dream-sequence opening is over, we're back to the typical post-pixar CGI with which some people are so enamored. while i understand the appeal, i'm pretty much over it. anymore i'd just as soon see an honest-to-god cartoon in the more traditional sense. that being said, this film contained some of the loveliest imagery i have seen in recent memory. atmospheric shots were rich with detail and color. landscapes shone with light and shadow. shots of the skies and horizons were especially gorgeous. it was almost incongruous to be giggling and awestruck by beauty at in the same breath.
voices by dutin hoffman, angelina jolie, david cross (woot!), and jackie chan add an amusing component of "where the hell do i know that voice from?" to the film experience.
worthwhile and enjoyable, definitely. i do tend to set the bar a little lower for kids movies, but i still think i'd recommend this one to anyone with a fondness for silliness and an appreciation for rich imagery.
i am a fan of jack black, so this definitely must be considered in that context. and this film is a very typically "Black" comedy. lots of fat jokes, goof humor, and general silliness.
the opening sequence has a sumptuous stylized look that i really liked; very asian chic al-la samurai jack. charming, funny, fast-paced narration from jack lead to giggles galore.
once the dream-sequence opening is over, we're back to the typical post-pixar CGI with which some people are so enamored. while i understand the appeal, i'm pretty much over it. anymore i'd just as soon see an honest-to-god cartoon in the more traditional sense. that being said, this film contained some of the loveliest imagery i have seen in recent memory. atmospheric shots were rich with detail and color. landscapes shone with light and shadow. shots of the skies and horizons were especially gorgeous. it was almost incongruous to be giggling and awestruck by beauty at in the same breath.
voices by dutin hoffman, angelina jolie, david cross (woot!), and jackie chan add an amusing component of "where the hell do i know that voice from?" to the film experience.
worthwhile and enjoyable, definitely. i do tend to set the bar a little lower for kids movies, but i still think i'd recommend this one to anyone with a fondness for silliness and an appreciation for rich imagery.
Friday, June 6, 2008
i just decided
bsomething crazy, but exciting.
the clinic has been really slow, and we have more help than we need over the summer so dr. anne made it clear if i wanted some time off over the summer we could do that with ease. i wont get paid but i can have the time if i want it.
turns out i do.
neko case is my most favorite singer in all the land. and i find her music incredibly inspiring and her courage as a songwriter leaves me breathless and spurs me on. so. i want to see her in concert. she's coiming to bumbershoot, but i hate festival shows. with a passion. and i've been to seattle 900 bajillion times.
i've never been to reno, though...
i bought myself a ticket this afternoon. i'm taking 4 days off. i'm going to drive so i can see southern oregon. i'm going to do this. i cant decide if i'm more scared or excited.
guess i'll find out.
the clinic has been really slow, and we have more help than we need over the summer so dr. anne made it clear if i wanted some time off over the summer we could do that with ease. i wont get paid but i can have the time if i want it.
turns out i do.
neko case is my most favorite singer in all the land. and i find her music incredibly inspiring and her courage as a songwriter leaves me breathless and spurs me on. so. i want to see her in concert. she's coiming to bumbershoot, but i hate festival shows. with a passion. and i've been to seattle 900 bajillion times.
i've never been to reno, though...
i bought myself a ticket this afternoon. i'm taking 4 days off. i'm going to drive so i can see southern oregon. i'm going to do this. i cant decide if i'm more scared or excited.
guess i'll find out.
i will readily admit
i have a fairly unsophisticated understanding of market forces and the delicate balance of the world economy. i also know that current trends are making survival more and more difficult for a great many people in the developing nations. hearing about the price of rice and grain skyrocketing, and the concomitant increase in food insecurity weighs heavily on my mind indeed.
yet, somehow, i feel this trend, as an overall tendency, isn’t necessarily a bad thing. in much the same way i feel the increase in gasoline prices are causing profound changes in our consciousness around how we consume energy, i want to believe the i
ncrease in food prices might bring about the same kind of evolution around how we consume other things.
while listening to NPR last week i heard a story about how the spike in the cost of grain is beginning to effect people in the rural areas of Afghanistan. how it is becoming more difficult for families to feed their children. and while this is hard to hear and makes me think we as a global community need to step in to address the immediate crisis, the side effect of the overall increase in food prices has made more profitable to grow wheat than opium poppies.
this delights me. there is something inherently noble, as far as i am concerned, in growing food. but more, it is beautiful to me that it is now a more practical choice to feed people than to feed a craving for oblivion.
most of human history has put us in the position of having to spend the greater proportion of our resources (time, physical energy, money) on the acquisition of food and shelter. in the relatively recent course of western culture, there has been a profound shift in that we have more and more resources to allocate toward other pursuits. it has not necessarily made for a more fulfilling human experience. we have become indolent and insensitive to the notion that toil in the pursuit of survival can be a rewarding thing in its own right. that greater freedom to reflect on all we do not have or need to have, has created an acute sense of entitlement and dissatisfaction in generations of people that seems only to be deepening the longer it goes on.
and so it seems to me that the rise in the price of food may cause us to begin to again reflect on the origins of our sustenance and all the ways we hope it will nourish us; what it is we value in our day to day lives and why we place such weight on certain components of our life and so little on others. food and eating are almost never just about food and eating these days, so perhaps we could begin to place a higher worth on this aspect of living, as not only what allows us to survive, but brings significant satisfaction and pleasure as well.
because i feel as though if we were to acknowledge the true worth of our food, that we would place a higher value on it than we have previously and that in so doing, we could acknowledge that it is appropriate to apportion a greater part of our means toward it. the notion being that we should be paying a high premium for food. we should place greater value on being able to feed people than to make our cars go. we should see providing food as a worthwhile investment which also serves to promote wise stewardship of resources.
and I realize this is probably a naïve and overly simplistic way of seeing the situation, but honestly it is one of the few comforts i can retain in an otherwise increasingly distressing atmosphere of scarcity. i think it serves me best to learn to value the things i fundamentally require and appreciate their true worth in my life.
i suppose it’s the socio-economic equivalent of “if you can’t be with the one you love, love the one you’re with”
yet, somehow, i feel this trend, as an overall tendency, isn’t necessarily a bad thing. in much the same way i feel the increase in gasoline prices are causing profound changes in our consciousness around how we consume energy, i want to believe the i
ncrease in food prices might bring about the same kind of evolution around how we consume other things.while listening to NPR last week i heard a story about how the spike in the cost of grain is beginning to effect people in the rural areas of Afghanistan. how it is becoming more difficult for families to feed their children. and while this is hard to hear and makes me think we as a global community need to step in to address the immediate crisis, the side effect of the overall increase in food prices has made more profitable to grow wheat than opium poppies.
this delights me. there is something inherently noble, as far as i am concerned, in growing food. but more, it is beautiful to me that it is now a more practical choice to feed people than to feed a craving for oblivion.
most of human history has put us in the position of having to spend the greater proportion of our resources (time, physical energy, money) on the acquisition of food and shelter. in the relatively recent course of western culture, there has been a profound shift in that we have more and more resources to allocate toward other pursuits. it has not necessarily made for a more fulfilling human experience. we have become indolent and insensitive to the notion that toil in the pursuit of survival can be a rewarding thing in its own right. that greater freedom to reflect on all we do not have or need to have, has created an acute sense of entitlement and dissatisfaction in generations of people that seems only to be deepening the longer it goes on.
and so it seems to me that the rise in the price of food may cause us to begin to again reflect on the origins of our sustenance and all the ways we hope it will nourish us; what it is we value in our day to day lives and why we place such weight on certain components of our life and so little on others. food and eating are almost never just about food and eating these days, so perhaps we could begin to place a higher worth on this aspect of living, as not only what allows us to survive, but brings significant satisfaction and pleasure as well.
because i feel as though if we were to acknowledge the true worth of our food, that we would place a higher value on it than we have previously and that in so doing, we could acknowledge that it is appropriate to apportion a greater part of our means toward it. the notion being that we should be paying a high premium for food. we should place greater value on being able to feed people than to make our cars go. we should see providing food as a worthwhile investment which also serves to promote wise stewardship of resources.
and I realize this is probably a naïve and overly simplistic way of seeing the situation, but honestly it is one of the few comforts i can retain in an otherwise increasingly distressing atmosphere of scarcity. i think it serves me best to learn to value the things i fundamentally require and appreciate their true worth in my life.
i suppose it’s the socio-economic equivalent of “if you can’t be with the one you love, love the one you’re with”
Stardust
I like Neil Gaiman well enough. Coraline is a fine example of his writing and I enjoyed it immensely. I think I was operating under the assumption that Stardust was likewise, a decent read for a fairly sophisticated 9 year old (of which I am possessed). Turns out, not so much.
Actually, to be fair, it probably would have been ok, but when I turn a page in the middle of what seems like a fairly innocuous scene of romance and have to stop dead in my tracks so as to avoid reading aloud “he brushed her firm nipples” to the aforementioned 9 year old… well I guess I just gave it up for lost at that point as far as she was concerned. besides, i think there’s a little too much unicorn death in it for the average adolescent girl.
Apart from that, it was an amusing enough romp. nothing very inventive here, but a decent way to pass a handful of hours.
Thursday, June 5, 2008
To Kill A Mockingbird
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arouse77's reviews from LibraryThing
http://www.librarything.com/profile_reviews.php?view=arouse77
arouse77's reviews from LibraryThing
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To Kill a Mockingbird (Harper Perennial Modern Classics) by Harper Lee
http://www.librarything.com/work/book/30996292
reading this made me understand why we call certain books "classic" written in a lively prose, this story is about the expansion of awareness possible only at a very particular time in life. though this book has been turned into a movie where the legal drama takes the main focus, i felt the real story here was in how the family of Scout, Jem, and Atticus grow together and apart in the face of the harsh realities that dwell on the periphery of their insular southern town. as Scout's understanding of her world and the people who populate it becomes more sophisticated and nuanced, she sacrifices some of her shining innocence for the weightier gift of compassion. this story illustrates with sensitivity and sense this quintessential process of maturation. highly recommended.
Harper Perennial Modern Classics (2006), Paperback, 336 pages
tags: literature, southern culture, civil rights, movie
Sun, 25 May 2008 23:27:31 -0400
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arouse77's reviews from LibraryThing
http://www.librarything.com/profile_reviews.php?view=arouse77
-
http://www.librarything.com/work/book/30996292
reading this made me understand why we call certain books "classic" written in a lively prose, this story is about the expansion of awareness possible only at a very particular time in life. though this book has been turned into a movie where the legal drama takes the main focus, i felt the real story here was in how the family of Scout, Jem, and Atticus grow together and apart in the face of the harsh realities that dwell on the periphery of their insular southern town. as Scout's understanding of her world and the people who populate it becomes more sophisticated and nuanced, she sacrifices some of her shining innocence for the weightier gift of compassion. this story illustrates with sensitivity and sense this quintessential process of maturation. highly recommended.
Harper Perennial Modern Classics (2006), Paperback, 336 pages
tags: literature, southern culture, civil rights, movie
good health can be hazardous to your health
ok, maybe i exaggerate. but i was working out last night (have decided to quell obsessive voice in head with exersize rather than sex and/or drugs) and was having a generally good time of it. sweating, breathing heavy, hurting just a little... (kinda like when i'm having a generally good time with sex and/or drugs)
i like to run. i also like the elipitcal trainer. i like weights. i like the gym. given my druthers, i go everyday. i listen to this american life while i'm huffing along. i annoy my fellow workers out with my random bursts of laughter. i stare out the windows at cooper mountain. these are good times.
what was not such good times yesterday was the sad injury i sustained when trying to re-rack my weights. now, you'd think by this point in my life, i would know my way around a rack (rimshot), but i misjudged my distance and pinched the holy living f*&k out of my index finger. pinching your pointed between a metal shelf and a 15lb barbell is not so much fun. hideous blood blister did ensue.
i hurt myself in stupid ways all the time and a huge proportion of these injuries occur when i am in pursuit of better health. hence, i'm all lean and fit and look like a victim of "enhanced interrogation methods"
sheesh.
i like to run. i also like the elipitcal trainer. i like weights. i like the gym. given my druthers, i go everyday. i listen to this american life while i'm huffing along. i annoy my fellow workers out with my random bursts of laughter. i stare out the windows at cooper mountain. these are good times.
what was not such good times yesterday was the sad injury i sustained when trying to re-rack my weights. now, you'd think by this point in my life, i would know my way around a rack (rimshot), but i misjudged my distance and pinched the holy living f*&k out of my index finger. pinching your pointed between a metal shelf and a 15lb barbell is not so much fun. hideous blood blister did ensue.
i hurt myself in stupid ways all the time and a huge proportion of these injuries occur when i am in pursuit of better health. hence, i'm all lean and fit and look like a victim of "enhanced interrogation methods"
sheesh.
Tuesday, June 3, 2008
Dinner @ Deschutes Brewpub
hodie and i went to Powell's yesterday so she could obtain the spoils of blackmail. i owed her one, and she's become extremely fond of these weird little Japanese dolls that have completely interchangeable parts. head, trunk, and legs can all be swapped out for one another...
whatever.
i was starving. we were in close proximity to many fine eateries, but i wanted something easy, kid-friendly, and comparatively low-cost. i wanted to go get beer cheese soup @ Henry's but wasn't sure i could take her into the bar and didn't want to take her into the dining room. so.
the deschutes opened recently enough i hadn't tried it yet (though my experiences in Bend were pretty uninspiring) and thought it should fit the bill nicely.
wandered over and saw Steve Novick inside. so, that was cool... we were seated and my immediate impression was lack of design vision married to noise. it was loud in there. much louder than one might expect for a monday afternoon. it wasn't all that crowded, so i can only assume it was the "this used to be a repair shop" acoustics that were to blame. also, plaid industrial carpet? never a good call.
when i got a look at the menu it seemed like pretty typical pub grub, which was what i was after, but definitely upmarket in terms of price. not totally thrilled my reuben was going to cost me $11.95 i was downright flummoxed to see that the kids menu listed grilled salmon as one of its offerings. grilled salmon? seriously? if it cannot be formed into a patty or tot, my child is not interested. and i realize this is not true of all children, that some children are slightly more sophisticated in terms of their tastes, but i don't think i have EVER met a kid who lwould look at their parents and say "instead of grilled cheese, can i have grilled salmon?"
anyway, we ordered. my sandwich was not-even-middling fair. the bread was awful (and NOT rye) and the dearth of dressing was criminal, to my mind. hodie's burger was fine, according to her, but it was GARGANTUAN. there was no chance in hell she was going to be able to eat it all. the hand cut fries were passable, the honey mustard i sopped up with them was downright tasty. the "special rose festival pink lady" brew was less than thrilling, but potable.
this cost me about $30 all told. which is a lot for eating with the child. usually its closer to $20 for this type of meal in most eateries. i realize being in the pearl brings with it a premium, but usually that premium is married with a more satisfying experience all around.
next time i'll just drag her to Henry's and be done with it....
whatever.
i was starving. we were in close proximity to many fine eateries, but i wanted something easy, kid-friendly, and comparatively low-cost. i wanted to go get beer cheese soup @ Henry's but wasn't sure i could take her into the bar and didn't want to take her into the dining room. so.
the deschutes opened recently enough i hadn't tried it yet (though my experiences in Bend were pretty uninspiring) and thought it should fit the bill nicely.
wandered over and saw Steve Novick inside. so, that was cool... we were seated and my immediate impression was lack of design vision married to noise. it was loud in there. much louder than one might expect for a monday afternoon. it wasn't all that crowded, so i can only assume it was the "this used to be a repair shop" acoustics that were to blame. also, plaid industrial carpet? never a good call.
when i got a look at the menu it seemed like pretty typical pub grub, which was what i was after, but definitely upmarket in terms of price. not totally thrilled my reuben was going to cost me $11.95 i was downright flummoxed to see that the kids menu listed grilled salmon as one of its offerings. grilled salmon? seriously? if it cannot be formed into a patty or tot, my child is not interested. and i realize this is not true of all children, that some children are slightly more sophisticated in terms of their tastes, but i don't think i have EVER met a kid who lwould look at their parents and say "instead of grilled cheese, can i have grilled salmon?"
anyway, we ordered. my sandwich was not-even-middling fair. the bread was awful (and NOT rye) and the dearth of dressing was criminal, to my mind. hodie's burger was fine, according to her, but it was GARGANTUAN. there was no chance in hell she was going to be able to eat it all. the hand cut fries were passable, the honey mustard i sopped up with them was downright tasty. the "special rose festival pink lady" brew was less than thrilling, but potable.
this cost me about $30 all told. which is a lot for eating with the child. usually its closer to $20 for this type of meal in most eateries. i realize being in the pearl brings with it a premium, but usually that premium is married with a more satisfying experience all around.
next time i'll just drag her to Henry's and be done with it....
Friday, May 30, 2008
my embarassing admission is...
i've never been a bridesmaid before, but i've been DYING to. and i realize, this is bizarre. i think its mostly because my few female friends are either pointedly unfroofy and so had no use for bridesmaids, already married, or a long way off from being married. sometimes more than one of these things at once.
yet, the big secret is, that though i can fix my own car, go for days without showering in a camping context, and curse like a sailor, i am fundamentally a girly-girl.
i love weddings, and babies, and shopping, and tulle, and shopping, and pedicures, and brocade and shopping, and pink, and diamonds, and shopping.
and i will admit, that someday, i pray someone will love me enough to want to let me have all of those things. my wedding dress will likely be about 9 miles wide. and i have had many anxious hours fantasizing about my elaborate wedding and wondering how the hell i can hope to have it when i dont have enough really close friends to adequately man the phalanx of attendants i envision beside me on that magical day.
sigh.
but! finally! a close friend who's a girly girl is having a fancy pants wedding! and i'm IN IT! palm springs in march? nice. the dress is even something I WOULD ACTUALLY WEAR OTHERWISE! how lucky am i?
i guess we all have our embarassing secret admissions. as far as it goes, mine could be lots worse...
any other not-so-secret secret admissions?
In The Woods
enjoyable mystery novel with a degree of sensitivity and complexity missing in the usual murder investigation tale. the story told in first person, follows the climax and subsequent collapse of the personal and professional life of one detective Rob (Adam) Ryan.
the mystery is twofold; first is the relatively straightforward whodunit tale he and his partner are investigating and second the dimly recalled details of his own traumatic history. a nicely paced and well written peice of mystery fiction, the action centers around a child murder investigation that brngs our hero into close proximity to a place charged with meaning for him: the wood near his childhood home where as an adolescent he and two of his best friends disappeared for several days before only he is discovered with no memory of the events which befell the lot of them.
for a police investigator he shows a remarkable degree of ambivilance toward trying to recover his memory or discover the truth about the fate of his two closest childhood friends. yet as the investigation continues his carefully ordered coping strategy of avoiding the subject mentally begins to unravel. however, his only attempt to unearth his recollections offers no ultimately meaningful revelations, but instead serve only to alienate him from his meaningful current relationships.
while i fundamentally did enjoy this book, i found the primary mystery somewhat predictable, (i tagged the "culprit" on first introduction) and the secondary tale left questions unasked and unanswered in a way i felt was ncongruous with my expectations of the main character.
i also have a slightly weird tendency to hyperscrutinize when authors choose to write in the voice of a gender not their own. i find it is rare that an author can accurately capture the nuance of communication necessary to have the overall effect seem authentic. and while i considered this to be a better than average effort, there were a number of ways in which i felt detective Ryan behaved in a sterotypically "male" fashion that did not seem to serve any meaningful purpose in informing us about him. nor did they reflect the sensitivity this author showed herself capable of when describing other characters or atmospheric elements.
i do consider this to have been a much better than average murder mystery novel when left to its own merits. most of the things about it i didnt care for are pretty idiosyncratic and probably unique to my peculiarities.
recommended
Viking Adult (2007), Hardcover, 429 pages
only you understand me explodingdog
i swear. i love explodingdog.com the artwork is fun and interesting and i am routinely amused by it. my wallpaper is almost always some piece or other. it's good stuff.
but lately, it's been more than that. the work is always accompanied by quirky titles that sometimes have nothing to do with the imagery, but have an eerie way of echoing what's going on in my life. especially lately.
a few examples follow...
it is enough to know you are out there
i'm afraid i will lose my faith
i will follow you into the dark
i am going t
o miss you
o miss youi hope you miss me too
sleeping to dream about you
i dont think you meant to do that
everything i touch turns to stone
love songs make me cry
you have learned nothing
i regret everything
my life in cartoons....
hmmm
twitter is over capacity. and so am i...
i feel so exactly just like this right now i find it almost hilarious. i have a host of little birdies trying valiantly to hoist me out of the sea of tears i might drown in else.
thank you birdies. you know who you are.
Tuesday, May 27, 2008
hodie pointed out
something funny to me yesterday...
i've seen The Little Mermaid about 8,479 times. i can quote dialogue, sing all the songs, blah blah blah. and yet, the following escaped me;
"mom, you know how when Ariel and Flounder are exploring the shipwreck and the shark comes after them?"
"yeah?"
"why does Flounder scream 'RUN?!' they don't have legs..."
no shit. huh. ha.
i've seen The Little Mermaid about 8,479 times. i can quote dialogue, sing all the songs, blah blah blah. and yet, the following escaped me;
"mom, you know how when Ariel and Flounder are exploring the shipwreck and the shark comes after them?"
"yeah?"
"why does Flounder scream 'RUN?!' they don't have legs..."
no shit. huh. ha.
the way the crow flies
by Ann-Marie MacDonald
i found this work both luminous and dusky. its singing prose conjures an intimacy both of emotional and corporeal locus, and the language sings with an authenticity which absorbed me wholly. even at a hefty 811 pages this book was a pleasure to devour.
set in post World War II
readers are privy to an array of forces which will begin to pull at the fabric of this singularly happy family in ways they cannot predict or even, once set adrift, begin to adapt to.
we begin with the depiction of post WWII politics and culture fraught with questions and concerns of the atomic age, and the author uses the alluring mechanism of episodic fractions of a nuclear fairy tale. the singsong narrative describing the mining techniques used to obtain material as well as slave labor practices which produced German missiles crafts a parable exceptionally evocative in the context of our sympathy for this child heroine.
in more direct, but no less compelling language the author communicates the paranoiac hysteria of the cold war mingled with a singularly Canadian sense of anti-Americanism; equal parts disgust, admiration, and inferiority complex. the author’s sense of time and place are absorbing and informative. subtle but meaningful distinctions of culture and context are woven expertly into a narrative about family dynamics, power, and abuse of trust that could take place anywhere. in the microcosm the author creates for us, we see a passionate belief in the value of the “space race” contrasted to an exquisitely sensitive and lovely portrait of a ripened romance between married adults. the innocence of childhood opposed to the cynicism of maturity. the drama of family dynamics juxtaposed against the pressures at play in the wider world.
all of these elements combine to make a mesmerizing tale and yet, this novel is, at its heart, a murder mystery. the foreshadows of tragedy are both tantalizing and oblique; simultaneously giving the reader the sense the outcome is predictable and that there is much yet to be revealed.
the book does change its tone significantly in the wake of the crime and subsequent legal proceedings. it follows Madeline into an adulthood which has aconsiderably different timbre than her childhood. eventually the tale comes full circle and all is revealed, but the jarring transition from child to adult, from singing evocative language to a quality harsher and more matter-of-fact is a mechanism i see the value of, but did not particularly enjoy adjusting to.
apart from this relatively minor (and probably totally personal) preference for more tonal consistency, i would say this is one of the finer novels i have encountered in recent memory. recommended, heartily.
Saturday, May 24, 2008
Great and Minor Moments in Oregon History by Dick Pintarich
"Oregon's Social History" was the first class i attended in college while trying to get my educational bearings. i took it from the author of this book and really enjoyed it. he was funny, engaging, well-informed, and entertaining. i found the book to have these same qualities.
Dick Pintarich works as a tour guide over the summers when he isn't teaching at Portland Community College, and this book has the tone you might expect from someone leading an especially entertaining excursion through Oregon's colorful history. an expert on southern and eastern Oregon, he touches on many of the less-well-known aspects of culture and landscape in the far corners of the state. he recounts interesting anecdotes from his own travels and brings tidbits of information to the fore that are both interesting and, in many cases, hilarious. the chapters on place-name sanitization is particularly amusing. (hint: rooster rock was NOT the original name!)
in addition to covering the more far flung corners of the state, this book also brings up many of the less than savory aspects of Oregon's culture that many natives, and more transplants, would rather forget. a rampant pattern of racism, prejudice, corruption, political pandering, the inflexibility of many residents toward social progress, and a legendary tight-fistedness among its residents.(remember, we're) one of the only states in the union without a sales tax!) an entertaining and instructive read, this book is a must for anyone curious about the less-well-traveled paths of Oregon's history. (
)
You're my best friend!
i've been wondering lately if the notion of a "best friend" endures into adulthood. if you'd asked me this question a year ago, i would have answered with a resounding,
"uh-huh!"
however, the person who filled that role in my life since i was about 17 and i haven't even spoken in almost a year, and so now i am no longer sure.
the common wisdom tells us it becomes more difficult to make substantial social connections as we age. that intimacy becomes harder to establish, new friendships less likely to endure.
the way we forge connections changes radically as life goes on. our life circumstances, personalities, ethics, preferences, and degree of emotional competency take on distinct texture and permanence as we age. proximity is, then, no longer the defining characteristic of friendship. the accessibility of a playmate, once the cardinal trait of friendship, becomes largely irrelevant. our sensibilities evolve with our interests and we learn to make alliances based on hobbies, political leanings, fondness for drink, and countless other considerations.
and though these might seem to be a more sound and enduring basis upon which to form a lasting social connection, there are constraints presented by our maturity which can hamper the evolution of the emotional connection of the intensity and scope inherent to the "best friend" role. no longer can we hope to be as unaffected or vulnerable as when we were children. our actions are moderated and mitigated by our experience and politesse. the fear of revealing too much, or pressing upon the tolerance of another. we no longer possess the glorious insensitivity to the effect of our unbridled self upon others.
to my mind at least, it is in many ways the drama of our adolescence that makes the profound and enduring emotional and cognitive impressions upon us that allow us to feel as though we really, really know someone, deep down at their core. it is unusual to encounter a relationship, not romantic in nature, that can (or should) generate this same type of intensity once we are out of those tumultuous formative years. and perhaps if we don't emerge from this time with a person who has run this gauntlet beside us, they cannot really know us; cannot appreciate our evolution and our constancy.
not to forget the logistical and practical constraints of adulthood. we don't have time on our hands to devote to just being around to discover or communicate every damn thing.
and all of this being said, i have to admit, the conclusion i come to is that while it may be possible to have a best friend as an adult, it might not be possible to acquire one if you wrecked or lost the one you already had. and this makes me sad and lonesome and wistful. because that's what seems to have happened. and there doesn't seem to be anything i can do about it.
"uh-huh!"
however, the person who filled that role in my life since i was about 17 and i haven't even spoken in almost a year, and so now i am no longer sure.
the common wisdom tells us it becomes more difficult to make substantial social connections as we age. that intimacy becomes harder to establish, new friendships less likely to endure.
the way we forge connections changes radically as life goes on. our life circumstances, personalities, ethics, preferences, and degree of emotional competency take on distinct texture and permanence as we age. proximity is, then, no longer the defining characteristic of friendship. the accessibility of a playmate, once the cardinal trait of friendship, becomes largely irrelevant. our sensibilities evolve with our interests and we learn to make alliances based on hobbies, political leanings, fondness for drink, and countless other considerations.
and though these might seem to be a more sound and enduring basis upon which to form a lasting social connection, there are constraints presented by our maturity which can hamper the evolution of the emotional connection of the intensity and scope inherent to the "best friend" role. no longer can we hope to be as unaffected or vulnerable as when we were children. our actions are moderated and mitigated by our experience and politesse. the fear of revealing too much, or pressing upon the tolerance of another. we no longer possess the glorious insensitivity to the effect of our unbridled self upon others.
to my mind at least, it is in many ways the drama of our adolescence that makes the profound and enduring emotional and cognitive impressions upon us that allow us to feel as though we really, really know someone, deep down at their core. it is unusual to encounter a relationship, not romantic in nature, that can (or should) generate this same type of intensity once we are out of those tumultuous formative years. and perhaps if we don't emerge from this time with a person who has run this gauntlet beside us, they cannot really know us; cannot appreciate our evolution and our constancy.
not to forget the logistical and practical constraints of adulthood. we don't have time on our hands to devote to just being around to discover or communicate every damn thing.
and all of this being said, i have to admit, the conclusion i come to is that while it may be possible to have a best friend as an adult, it might not be possible to acquire one if you wrecked or lost the one you already had. and this makes me sad and lonesome and wistful. because that's what seems to have happened. and there doesn't seem to be anything i can do about it.
Friday, May 23, 2008
The Inheritance of Loss by Kiran Desai
draped with acclaim and praise on the jacket, i had fairly high hopes for this book. i'm not certain if it's my frame of mind at the moment, or something more inherent to the text itself, but i was disappointed.
set in a back-and-forth time scheme ranging from WWII Europe to 1980's India, the story focused on 2 generations of a famiily and their close associates. these characters, to greater and lesser degrees, all experience a sense of being displaced in whatever social culture they happen to be currently entangled in.
if this book has a theme, i would say it is non-belongingness, which just did not resonate as expected. these characters all encounter significant turmoil both in their personal lives as well as in the growing political unrest raging around them and we are able to see how they cope with, or fail to acknowledge, these changes, the story moves back and forth in time and place in a way that isn't so much confusing as it is distracting and vaguely annoying.
i failed to find the main characters particularly sympathetic or engaging in terms of their internal struggle, or their responses to the upheaval in their surroundings. the most interesting emotional connection in this book seemed to be between the elderly judge and his dog. plowed through it, but didn't much enjoy it.
Grove Press (2006), Paperback, 384 pages
tags: India, romance, politics, immigration
A voyage long and strange : rediscovering the New World by Tony Horwitz
My first impression of this book was exceedingly favorable. The opening chapters commence with a self-depricating stroll past Plymouth Rock and down Amnesia Alley. The author has an engaging and witty style i found immediately enjoyable to read. If the remainder of the book had maintained this initial promise, i would be rating as one of the better peices of non-fiction i've ever encountered.
perhaps not surprisingly though, the bantering tone of the early chapters did not last. once we left newfoundland (a HOTBED of hilarity, as is well known) and travelled further south, the timbre of the strory become singularly depressing, and virtually unleavened with the asides and insights that made the first portion so enjoyable. i suppose this might be partially because of the darker cast of the events post-wiking (i mean, spaniards vs. norsemen in a contest of levity? foregone conclusion!) but the feeling i got from the remainder of the book was of a wholly uninspired travelouge of places people would rarely care to visit even if one COULD be sure any of the purported historical events actually occurred there, which no one actually can.
suddenly "Plymouth Pebble" doesn't seem worthy of the mockery it receives in the opening chapter!
On the whole, i found this book a worthwhile read, though was disappointed with its unevenness. i felt like the momentum of the early chapters had totally dissipated by about 2/3rd though. And even though the final portions seemed long and drawn out, the end also felt rather abrupt back on the Massachusetts shore. I suppose if he hadn't raised my hopes for hilarious historical hyjinx, the overall impression would have been better. ah well.
New York : Thorndike Press, 2008.
tags: non-fiction, history, early america, humor
"This book was a breezy 6 or 7 hours to get through. It was amusing if not terribly insightful or absorbing. Fairly typical girl-novel where nothing very consequential happens, but all is made well in the end by getting of crushable boy. Had so many aspects reminiscent of the movie "Secretary" I am convinced the author of the screenplay lifted much of the stroyline from this book. I found this a little distracting, particularly because I enjoyed the movie far more."Penguin (Non-Classics) (2004), Paperback, 288 pages
tags: romantic-comedy, fluffy, girl
Blatantly stolen from Lyza...
is the following idea.
my personal life is a mess. and rather than a) complain about it relentlessly to the chagin of all OR b) go through a period of blog-io silence, i'm going to post about what i've been doing: reading relentlessly.
i sleep with the light on so that when i wake up any of the 4-9 times per night all i have to do is lift the book back up to my eyeline and start reading again. this prevents pesky nighttime thoughts from occurring for longer than it takes for my sleepy eyes to focus on the page. has lead to some weird dreams, but is overall a generally successful strategy for coping at the moment.
as a result, i have run through quite a few books recently, and have enjoyed putting in my 2 cents about what it is i think of said books. sadly, there haven't been many winners lately,(one always runs this risk when we play the sale table lottery) but i'm thinking my luck is about to change. AND i'm getting a library card so as not to bankrupt myself at Powells.
at any rate, i'm going to post a few of the book reviews i'v written as the fruits of my last few days of labor. enjoy!
my personal life is a mess. and rather than a) complain about it relentlessly to the chagin of all OR b) go through a period of blog-io silence, i'm going to post about what i've been doing: reading relentlessly.
i sleep with the light on so that when i wake up any of the 4-9 times per night all i have to do is lift the book back up to my eyeline and start reading again. this prevents pesky nighttime thoughts from occurring for longer than it takes for my sleepy eyes to focus on the page. has lead to some weird dreams, but is overall a generally successful strategy for coping at the moment.
as a result, i have run through quite a few books recently, and have enjoyed putting in my 2 cents about what it is i think of said books. sadly, there haven't been many winners lately,(one always runs this risk when we play the sale table lottery) but i'm thinking my luck is about to change. AND i'm getting a library card so as not to bankrupt myself at Powells.
at any rate, i'm going to post a few of the book reviews i'v written as the fruits of my last few days of labor. enjoy!
Monday, May 12, 2008
nts nts nts
went with friends lyza, david, and brett to the Armin VanBuuren show last night at the Roseland. i haven't been to a dance show since seeing John Digweed @ the crystal back in 2002? woah.
danced the whole set. was bathed in other people's sweat and excitement. overcame my usual crowd terror to follow lyza right up to the edge of the stage. was struck by the contrast in this show vs the multitude of other shows i've been to in recent memory...
crowd, though sweaty, smelled good and this is crucial. i was far less anxious being surrounded on all sides by people who didnt smell in a way that distressed me. people were generally polite and trying to take care of each other. stage hands tossed water out to the crowd and generally seemed to be trying to make sure everyone was feeling included. dj looked HAPPY. like he was genuinely enjoying himself instead of the faux-torment put upon by some musicians attempting to convey the seriousness of their art by dint of a glower.
there was jumping. there was smiling. there were various stages of undress. it was good times.
Sunday, May 11, 2008
what the fucking fuck
driving up canyon rd today. there's a speed trap, accordingly, i do not speed. i'm doing 35 thinking about the chores i have remaining and the show i am going to tonight, when i glance in my rearview mirror to see a black Durango EXCEEDINGLY close to my rear end.
i think to myself "what an asshole."
he stays menacingly close
i think to myself "what the fuck is his problem?"
there is plenty of room to go around me in the left lane
i think to myself "what the hell does he think he is doing"
and then he rams me.
its little more than a tap; frankly i can tell by the skill with which he executed the maneuver that he's probably done it before. i am stunned and frightened by this. and can only think: he did it on purpose. why would he do that??
i'm not going to stop for this person. this was no accident. and i know full well there is a police van about 2/3's of a mile up canyon (remember that speed trap i was trying to avoid?) and that is where i am headed.
and then, he races around me in the other lane and takes off. he's a few hundred yards in front of me when he then slows down dramatically and waits for me to come parallel with him. i look over into the SUV with a "what the fuck?" look on my face and he proceeds to smile and wave. he then peels off to the left and disappears up canyon crest.
i am, uselessly, so freaked out that i fail to look for a plate number. i mean, he was in a black durango. how many of those bloody fucking things are there in beaverton anyway? too many to even credit.
proceed next to hysterical, terrified, bewildered sobbing.
call police. without more identifying information, there's nothing to be done but for the nice officer to say he's sorry it happened.
Klaus seems mostly unscathed. still have touch up paint from accident in november, so i may make use of that for the handful of small scratches evident on the rear bumper.
call friends for comfort. one suggests park klaus and his distinctive plates somewhere else. when i mention this is impractical the advice is that i get some pepper spray as this happened so close to my house, they might see my car parked there and decide to come pick on me some more. strangely, this idea IS NOT IN ANY WAY COMFORTING!!!!
took myself to pedicure and mexican food as antidote. dancing later.
i think to myself "what an asshole."
he stays menacingly close
i think to myself "what the fuck is his problem?"
there is plenty of room to go around me in the left lane
i think to myself "what the hell does he think he is doing"
and then he rams me.
its little more than a tap; frankly i can tell by the skill with which he executed the maneuver that he's probably done it before. i am stunned and frightened by this. and can only think: he did it on purpose. why would he do that??
i'm not going to stop for this person. this was no accident. and i know full well there is a police van about 2/3's of a mile up canyon (remember that speed trap i was trying to avoid?) and that is where i am headed.
and then, he races around me in the other lane and takes off. he's a few hundred yards in front of me when he then slows down dramatically and waits for me to come parallel with him. i look over into the SUV with a "what the fuck?" look on my face and he proceeds to smile and wave. he then peels off to the left and disappears up canyon crest.
i am, uselessly, so freaked out that i fail to look for a plate number. i mean, he was in a black durango. how many of those bloody fucking things are there in beaverton anyway? too many to even credit.
proceed next to hysterical, terrified, bewildered sobbing.
call police. without more identifying information, there's nothing to be done but for the nice officer to say he's sorry it happened.
Klaus seems mostly unscathed. still have touch up paint from accident in november, so i may make use of that for the handful of small scratches evident on the rear bumper.
call friends for comfort. one suggests park klaus and his distinctive plates somewhere else. when i mention this is impractical the advice is that i get some pepper spray as this happened so close to my house, they might see my car parked there and decide to come pick on me some more. strangely, this idea IS NOT IN ANY WAY COMFORTING!!!!
took myself to pedicure and mexican food as antidote. dancing later.
Saturday, May 10, 2008
and breathe...
i woke up this morning in the same mood i've been in for days. it's not a happy one. and yet, for some reason, as i walked past the lilac bush outside my front door, i plucked some blossoms and decided to breathe.
some time ago i was compelled to take a theology class. though it wasn't necessarily a choice i would have made on my own, i found the class deeply rewarding. not least because of the reading material the sister required for the class. as pertinent to this; Peace is Every Step by Thich Nhat Hahn. and though this is a simple book in every sense, it has offered some of the most practical and useful advice about life i have encountered. yet as simple as it is, i have been truly amazed at how easy it is to forget these truths.
Like:
breathe
smile
be gentle
attend to the smallest and most immediate pleasures
stay present in the moment
and i have not done as much of any of this as i should lately. and for some reason, on this soft grey spring day, i am finding it a little easier than usual. i think i can thank the lilacs...
Tuesday, April 29, 2008
i can never know
something that hundreds of thousands of other fine people know: what it is like to relocate to portland.
being one of an increasingly uncommon passel of folks who were actually spawned and reared in this place, means i am surrounded by a whole mad herd of people who came here on purpose. and i feel lucky. because i want to spend the rest of my life here. it's like being in an arranged marriage where you actually happen to be madly in love with the partner someone else chose for you.
but i know i have missed out on some quintessential "uprooting an entire life" type experiences. and the bravery and faith required for such a leap is almost unfathomable to me. there have been no tarps secured over a pickup full of belongings. no dark nights of driving to a new town without a clear sense of how living there will feel. i have never had to get to know a new town. i have never had to discover the best route to anywhere, because i have always known it. i have never been presented with such a remarkable chance to create a tale about my life in surroundings unfamiliar to me.
and this seems like something i want to experience. but i cannot imagine bringing myself to go elsewhere just to feel it.
and it is always one of the first questions i ask: what made you choose this place? of all the places? what was it like to come here from wherever it was you came? what drew you here and what do you miss about where you're from. and what was the most fundamental change you underwent to become a portlander at last?
i imagine it is a journey that changes a person. hilarity and loneliness must ensue. the magic of this place is not lost on me for a moment, but i will never know the magic of this place as a stranger must.
being one of an increasingly uncommon passel of folks who were actually spawned and reared in this place, means i am surrounded by a whole mad herd of people who came here on purpose. and i feel lucky. because i want to spend the rest of my life here. it's like being in an arranged marriage where you actually happen to be madly in love with the partner someone else chose for you.
but i know i have missed out on some quintessential "uprooting an entire life" type experiences. and the bravery and faith required for such a leap is almost unfathomable to me. there have been no tarps secured over a pickup full of belongings. no dark nights of driving to a new town without a clear sense of how living there will feel. i have never had to get to know a new town. i have never had to discover the best route to anywhere, because i have always known it. i have never been presented with such a remarkable chance to create a tale about my life in surroundings unfamiliar to me.
and this seems like something i want to experience. but i cannot imagine bringing myself to go elsewhere just to feel it.
and it is always one of the first questions i ask: what made you choose this place? of all the places? what was it like to come here from wherever it was you came? what drew you here and what do you miss about where you're from. and what was the most fundamental change you underwent to become a portlander at last?
i imagine it is a journey that changes a person. hilarity and loneliness must ensue. the magic of this place is not lost on me for a moment, but i will never know the magic of this place as a stranger must.
Friday, April 25, 2008
everything hits at once
indeed things are off at a gallop. and as in the old chinese proverb, living in interesting times might be something of a curse.
i can point to nothing that feels settled. no thing of which i am totally certain. no course to which i am fully committed. all the while i am in this profound and numbing flux, i am also swept along by circumstance. my faith, what will that i possess, the shred of patience i have constructed by dint of long effort, my brittle and inconstant self-assurance; all these are under siege.
yet, oh, the shining possibilities if only i can endure. the alluring fiction draws me forward, by degrees. but there is no certainty that i am being lured toward something that serves me. if i should look to these intimations and conjectures with any sort of confidence.
and what, then, to think of this desire i have to remake myself, body and soul, to be better equipped for a future i am not certain i want? what, then, of the desire to abandon things by which i have defined my life for so long, in pursuit of a goal less lofty but oh-so-much-more-accessible-seeming?
confronted, as i have been of late, with new people, experiences, avenues, and possibilities i feel that all has come into question. but in some more fundamental way than the way in which i always try to keep an open mind. i feel my compass has been dipped in lead and cannot find true north. that the reflection of myself i have always relied upon is somehow altered in some nebulous but profound way that no longer supplies me with a complete and meaningful truth about who and how i am.
and this scares me.
Monday, April 21, 2008
stupid oldness
sigh.
friend lyza and i started a 10k training program this week. not actually going to run a 10k, just gonna train for one. this after about 9 months of depression induced inactivity. i love running. it makes me feel strong and i consistently get a gratifying runners high, so it's one of my preferred methods of getting/staying fit.
however. my joints are a'gin me. i've had trouble with hips, wrists, shoulders, elbows, and most pertinently here, knees. i bought some wonderful braces which allow me to run and ski in comfort, but i kinda hit the pavement pretty hard this week, and did it twice before i tried to ski on saturday.
the weather was lovely, despite it being kinda nasty in town. the snow was AMAZING. lots of it, and powder to boot. no wind. virtually no one on the mountain. conditions were pretty much ideal.
after about a dozen runs, i was kaput. usually i can ski for about 4 hours before my knees start to object with any vigor. to be fair, i skied pretty aggressively and got in a ton of runs really quickly since there was zero lift line wait, but i still felt like a wanker only skiing for 2 hours. good thing the lift ticket was cheap...
was meant to bike ride yesterday. uh, no. laid around in bed all day instead. ate a bacon waffle. probably undid any gains (losses) i managed with all that running and skiing. ah well. took some ibuprofen before my run this morning, seemed to help. may just need to do so preemptively from now on...
Saturday, April 19, 2008
the way my luck goes
is a little strange, i will admit. bad things happen to me all the time, but they somehow manage to never be as bad as they could be, so i end up feeling pretty lucky all things considered.
what happened to me on thursday is a classic example of this phenomenon.
i left work a wee bit early to make time to fetch hodie before my weekly therapy session. i came around the corner at 82nd and had a clackamas sheriff flip on his lights and pull me over. i was a little confused since i wasn't speeding (for once) and i knew all my tags and whatnot were current.
mr. officer comes to my window and takes my insurance, registration, and license only to say: "So did you know your license is suspended?"
to which i replied "wha-huh?"
apparently, when i was in a car accident in november and the officer on scene said i wouldnt need to file an accident report, he was full of shit. and so, they suspended me.
as it happened, the cop was a decent kind person and did not impound my car. so this is where my feeling of good luck comes in. it could have been so much worse. so. much. worse.
and it's all been resolved and tidied up. so. phew.
what happened to me on thursday is a classic example of this phenomenon.
i left work a wee bit early to make time to fetch hodie before my weekly therapy session. i came around the corner at 82nd and had a clackamas sheriff flip on his lights and pull me over. i was a little confused since i wasn't speeding (for once) and i knew all my tags and whatnot were current.
mr. officer comes to my window and takes my insurance, registration, and license only to say: "So did you know your license is suspended?"
to which i replied "wha-huh?"
apparently, when i was in a car accident in november and the officer on scene said i wouldnt need to file an accident report, he was full of shit. and so, they suspended me.
as it happened, the cop was a decent kind person and did not impound my car. so this is where my feeling of good luck comes in. it could have been so much worse. so. much. worse.
and it's all been resolved and tidied up. so. phew.
Monday, April 14, 2008
i want my blankie
today has been one of those days that can't be objectively classified as bad, yet is still end up feeling unaccountably sad.
i mean, it wasn't totally smooth sailing. i did have a hiccup about not having my schedule properly calibrated, but i think i got over that about 7.5 hours ago.
still, i'm sad. and when i look at babies i want to giggle and cry simultaneously. and i think ridiculous things about people who love me, and see disater around every corner, and i know this means my ovaries are to blame, but despite this powerful awareness, i cannot make myself seem to feel any less utterly swept up in my mope.
and, of course, my physician is OUT OF THE COUNTRY and not due to return until after the month end. and we hadn't managed to finalize my rx yet.
so what i really want to do is take a hot bath (which i cant because my hot water heater is retarded) and curl up in my blankie and cry. but instead i'm going to try and run.
run run run.
i mean, it wasn't totally smooth sailing. i did have a hiccup about not having my schedule properly calibrated, but i think i got over that about 7.5 hours ago.
still, i'm sad. and when i look at babies i want to giggle and cry simultaneously. and i think ridiculous things about people who love me, and see disater around every corner, and i know this means my ovaries are to blame, but despite this powerful awareness, i cannot make myself seem to feel any less utterly swept up in my mope.
and, of course, my physician is OUT OF THE COUNTRY and not due to return until after the month end. and we hadn't managed to finalize my rx yet.
so what i really want to do is take a hot bath (which i cant because my hot water heater is retarded) and curl up in my blankie and cry. but instead i'm going to try and run.
run run run.
Thursday, April 10, 2008
i am certain
that the contents of my purse say something about me. i think i like what it says...
obvious things like wallet and keys aside, we have;
Heidegger: Basic Writings
tin of dice
string of pearls
matchbook from favorite steakhouse
fuzzy socks for friend lyza
burt's bees lip shtuff
bust magazine
graphing calculator
laquered hairstick
extremely fancy log book with which to track expenditures (the irony therein not at all lost)
wine country chicken salad with cranberries and pecans from TJ's + wheat thins
feeling smug about how awesome i seem to myself this morning. :}
contents of your stachel? come on, i showed you mine...
obvious things like wallet and keys aside, we have;
Heidegger: Basic Writings
tin of dice
string of pearls
matchbook from favorite steakhouse
fuzzy socks for friend lyza
burt's bees lip shtuff
bust magazine
graphing calculator
laquered hairstick
extremely fancy log book with which to track expenditures (the irony therein not at all lost)
wine country chicken salad with cranberries and pecans from TJ's + wheat thins
feeling smug about how awesome i seem to myself this morning. :}
contents of your stachel? come on, i showed you mine...
Monday, April 7, 2008
dog mountain and the return of the black toenail of doom
i'll be wearing open toed shoes for the rest of this week, regardless of the not-yet-actually-springlike weather. why? well...someone i like a real lot suggested we hike up dog mountain. not knowing any better... i agreed. even though the weather was less than ideal, i slipped on my shiny new fleece and prepared to be a good sport. what followed was the first honest to god physical exertion i've even engaged in for about 9 months. not, i must say, the ideal way to re-initiate oneself. because though the hike is only about three miles, it is three miles straight fu&^%ng up.
about every 3rd switchback i had to stop and pant desperately. at some point one of my expensive already once replaced rigid gas permeable contact lenses LEAPT TO ITS DEATH out of my eyeball; i was breathing that hard. when we were about 2/3rds of the way up we reached the one and only actual bench-place to sit. and about 2 minutes after we plopped down it started to hail angrily and insistently down upon us. i think it was the hiking gods punishing me for my hubris, because the hail stopped about 5 seconds after we agreed to try and hide under cover of trees. sigh.
when we got up to the last mile remaining to reach the summit, it seemed we had coincidentally reached the snowline. and me in my capris no less. it was here that it hit me just how much i really DO like this person i like a real lot, because the only reason i made this last portion of the trip was to keep him from thinking i am a quitter or a wuss. plus also he held my hand and kinda towed me up the last 1/10th mile. i hear in the spring the wildflowers that bloom up there are breathtaking. however, the most breathtaking thing i saw was the place where the trail disappeared around the side of the mountain under knee deep snow.
and when we finally did reach the top all there was to see were the few trees we took shelter under and the bank of clouds that were still clinging to the mountaintop. i was so tired i couldn't even stand up for my victory summit snapshot.
and then, there was downhill. oh god.
i just got these shoes. i love them. they were amazing on the way up. good in the snow, nice and grippy, waterproof, lightweight... i was giving them a 10. but, well, they are about 1/2 size too small. and so, on the way down my toes were jammed into the front of the shoe in a way that just spelled owie. last time i had this feeling was coming down Neakhanie. and i lost the entire toenail on one side.
luckily i dont think it'll come to that, but its bad enough that i havent yet put on shoes.
Friday, April 4, 2008
Please: No Mo' Emo Ro Co
k? it's been a bit of an ass kicker lately. and i mean, i'm used to sad. sad is manageable. sad is familiar. it's the whipsaw back and forth from giddy excitement and joy to anxiety and dismay i'm having the most trouble adapting to.
as much as i have courted chaos in the past, i think i need him to mount his storm-grey steed and ride out of my life for at least 6 months. even if what he leaves in his wake isn't necessarily the most ideal scenario as i'd envision it, to be able to rely on a little emotional consistency would be a great relief to me about now.
or, barring that, knowing full well it is more than i have any reason to expect, the whole serenity thing would be okay. that which i cannot change and so forth. i have actually begun to actively court the notion that i need new ways to self-soothe, since most of mine require the intervention of someone else. and breathing and mindfulness can only go so far. soporifics and comrades can only do so much. wrapping up in my blankie and reading my favorite book for the 14, 236th time has a limited power to soothe me.and this tends to make me feel vaguely lost and small. it's nice to lean on people who love me when i can, but sometimes, i just can't. sometimes i am profoundly alone and there is nothing to remedy the situation. as such, i need means to comfort myself in those moments. i wonder, sometimes what other people do, to ease their fears and sorrow. and i know the timbre of pain is as singular as each person, but i have this vain hope that someone might have a suggestion i can make my own.
i am a fan of the litany. i'm trying to create one for myself for these days.... and there is always my blankie.
as much as i have courted chaos in the past, i think i need him to mount his storm-grey steed and ride out of my life for at least 6 months. even if what he leaves in his wake isn't necessarily the most ideal scenario as i'd envision it, to be able to rely on a little emotional consistency would be a great relief to me about now.
or, barring that, knowing full well it is more than i have any reason to expect, the whole serenity thing would be okay. that which i cannot change and so forth. i have actually begun to actively court the notion that i need new ways to self-soothe, since most of mine require the intervention of someone else. and breathing and mindfulness can only go so far. soporifics and comrades can only do so much. wrapping up in my blankie and reading my favorite book for the 14, 236th time has a limited power to soothe me.and this tends to make me feel vaguely lost and small. it's nice to lean on people who love me when i can, but sometimes, i just can't. sometimes i am profoundly alone and there is nothing to remedy the situation. as such, i need means to comfort myself in those moments. i wonder, sometimes what other people do, to ease their fears and sorrow. and i know the timbre of pain is as singular as each person, but i have this vain hope that someone might have a suggestion i can make my own.
i am a fan of the litany. i'm trying to create one for myself for these days.... and there is always my blankie.
Friday, March 28, 2008
why do the ghosties be haunting me?
look. i'm willing to believe in a lot of weird crap that i do not understand: astrology, tarot cards, physics....
but i have never once had any cause to believe in ghosts. not that i think they don't exist, but rather, they don't tend to enter my version of reality. at least, they didn't used to...
this week however, they've been all over the damn place. the knocking pipes only being the first incidence of three. two days after, there was a loud almost gunshot like series of reports in the evening. but the last straw was yesterday when hodie comes in from getting something out of the car for me to say that she heard a loud rapping on the car window and my voice calling her, only to look up and see no one was there. i didn't tell her about the spookiness from earlier this week. she wasn't even around for the 2nd incident. but now, it seems to involve her. and this scares me even more.
i think it would bother me less if the overall sense i got wasn't so... angry. whatever it is that is employing these methods to get my attention seems perfectly content to terrorize me a little in order to get it.
i just want to go back to a world where me and the ghosties did not acknowledge each other's existence. please?
Tuesday, March 25, 2008
things that go bang in the night
not that you perverts.i've always been a lousy sleeper. i have to read or listen to a podcast in order to fall asleep in the first place, since i have a tendency to chase myself around in my head at night. i wake up at the drop of a hat. if there's any noise, or light, or persons, in the vicinity, i wake up.
someone suggested melatonin. i was skeptical, but since the suggestion came with a free sample supply, i decided to try it. pro: i did actually fall asleep quickly last night. con: i woke up about an hour later. i decided that i wanted to take a bath to warm up and hopefully drop off again quickly. well, that didn't quite work out as planned...
i live in a plex where there are many common walls. the plumbing is fundamentally interconnected. and i know full well that when i take a bath, my neighbors can hear it. i know this cause i can hear their showers. so when the banging started, i thought "finally all that screaming and moaning has driven them over the high side and they don't really want to listen to me bathe at 11pm. so i turned off my tap. but the banging, which was loud and persistent, went on well after i turned off the water. i could feel the vibration of the concussion vibrating the tub. and for some reason, this scared the shit out of me.
i got out of the tub, went to my front door, checked that it was locked. checked on hodie, (blissfully asleep; a freight train in the living room wouldn't wake her) and crawled cowering into my bed. somehow, i knew this banging was directed at me, and the source had a malevolent intent. i almost started crying. it paused briefly after about 10 minutes, but then resumed as loud and insistent as ever. finally i cranked up the air purifier to full blast to drown out the sound of the banging, pulled a pillow over my head, and prayed for sleep.
eventually i drifted off, but woke up several more times during the night, even though the noise had stopped. i was so wound up from being inexplicably afraid that i just never managed to relax in full. at about 5am i finally gave up and rose for the day, but with that malaise that seems to come with the clinging bad dream. you know what i mean: those dreams that linger and persist in bothering and distracting you long after you have woken and begun your day.
for some reason, i just could not shake off this feeling of unease and apprehension. it went on all morning. i finally had to resort to asking my co-worker to hug me before it would dissipate. and this bothers me. because i like to think i am a rational grownup person who can explain to herself that what was most likely a random plumbing problem does not represent a threat to me in any significant way.
and perhaps in the dark of the night, when senses fail to pierce the shadow cast over them, this can be excused, but in the full light of the afternoon, it just feels like a character flaw.
Monday, March 24, 2008
my love/hate relationship with coffee
has actually, until recently, been a hate/loathe relationship. stumptown is primarily responsible for making me believe that java isn't necessarily the foulest substance in the known universe, but i'm hardly a fan.
however, i have come to accept, that in it's time and place, coffee can be a wonderful wonderful thing. or, perhaps more particularly, stimulants can be a wonderful wonderful thing.
usually, i'm pretty careful about when i attempt to harness this power for evil. cause as a person who can taste caffeine (not yummy) i tend to avoid things that contain it. as such, i'm pretty sensitive to it. so, when i have a cuppa at 7pm it is going to keep me cranking all night. and sometimes, when there is homework, or unavoidable chores, i simply must submit myself to this consequence for the sake of the greater good.
that being said, nothing needs to be coffee flavored as far as i can tell. because (with the exception of aforementioned stumptown, plus also haagen daas ice cream bars) all things coffee flavored taste like wretchedness. and so the lesson here i suppose is for me to realize that not all people feel this way, and that assuming that the protein shake is chocolate just because its brown is faulty reasoning. so.
Sunday, March 23, 2008
roller derby: festooned with fuckery
it is not often i can claim to have been in on something cool from its inception. however, in the case of the derby; i can. this is due mostly to hanging out with the right people, but still.i was at 7 of the first 8 bouts the RCR's ever had, and let me tell you, it was a hell of a good time. i really enjoyed the carnival atmosphere, the adrenaline in the air, and the sort of hard-core-do-it-yourselfness that seemed to permeate the bouts. it was pretty much bitchin.
not everything went off without a hitch, but i never failed to be entertained by the experience.
sometimes, success ruins even the best ideas.
i understand these events are costly to put on, and the girls need equipment and practice space, and a travel budget, etc etc. however, the degree to which the derby has whored itself out at this point leaves me feeling more than a little dismayed. the announcers spend at least as much time schilling for the sponsors as they do commenting on the bouts, there has been (in my opinion) a very ill-advised change in how long the bouts run (perhaps to make people feel like they're getting their money's worth?) which leaves the audience exhausted (i can barely imagine how much harder it is on the skaters) and the very energy and grit that used to feel so genuine and appealing now seems pu
t upon and strained.it's really a bummer. i used to love to go out to the derby, but this time i barely made it til halftime. i really feel like a scaled back version which focused more on the skating and less on attempting to broaden the commercial appeal of what will always necessarily be a niche market sport would benefit the experience tremendously.
Saturday, March 22, 2008
lessons i learned last night
this wasn’t so much a restful week pour moi. i had some emotional confusion going on in the early portion which caused me to flee from my cozy and wonderful bed with its sheets of 300 counted threads and hunker down instead on the couch with OPB til Mr Rogers began to chirp his merry tune in the wee hours of the morning. when the emotional confusion relented enough to let me crawl back into my own bed, the child woke up in the night with horrible mysterious abdominal pains we thought we’d rid ourselves of. apparently not.
so, it was my intention to stay in last night. i had nine-trillion loads of laundry to fold, i was generally tired from the week, i had to work in the morning, and i figured an early night would do me good. i also figured that folding my laundry would be more fun with a little somethin-somethin.
what i failed to consider was that i frequently find myself locked in an eternal struggle when i have a little somethin-somethin: desperate desire to talk to people vs. wild paranoia.
i submitted to the first only moments before experiencing the second.
i need to learn to enjoy my chores unaided or leave my phone the hell alone.
so, it was my intention to stay in last night. i had nine-trillion loads of laundry to fold, i was generally tired from the week, i had to work in the morning, and i figured an early night would do me good. i also figured that folding my laundry would be more fun with a little somethin-somethin.
what i failed to consider was that i frequently find myself locked in an eternal struggle when i have a little somethin-somethin: desperate desire to talk to people vs. wild paranoia.
i submitted to the first only moments before experiencing the second.
i need to learn to enjoy my chores unaided or leave my phone the hell alone.
Friday, March 21, 2008
Hodie Hilarity
So,
the child has been after me to let her get a pet. i have been opposed to this because generally i am not in favor of:
cleaning up poop
small rodents in my house
creatures without advanced limbic systems in cages
pet based aromas
all of which tend to accompany the pets she is suggesting she become the owner of. i have encouraged her to make friends with the pencils who have all manner of pets furry and reptile, swimmers and scamperers alike. she views this suggestions with skepticism.
then, apparently inspired, yesterday she said the following: mom, what i really want is something other than a pet. how about instead of a HAM-ster, i get a SIS-ter!!
because a sibling really is the ultimate pet
the child has been after me to let her get a pet. i have been opposed to this because generally i am not in favor of:
cleaning up poop
small rodents in my house
creatures without advanced limbic systems in cages
pet based aromas
all of which tend to accompany the pets she is suggesting she become the owner of. i have encouraged her to make friends with the pencils who have all manner of pets furry and reptile, swimmers and scamperers alike. she views this suggestions with skepticism.
then, apparently inspired, yesterday she said the following: mom, what i really want is something other than a pet. how about instead of a HAM-ster, i get a SIS-ter!!
because a sibling really is the ultimate pet
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