Blahblahblog

Ker-FLUEY

2012-01-27T10:59:00.000-08:00

The baby has the flu or some sort of vicious bug. I will spare you the details, but let's just say his system is firing from both ends, simultaneously. If you've ever had a child -- or been a child -- you know what I'm talking about. It's unpleasant for everyone involved.

However, Ian is muddling through, because he's a tough little man. He's not a complainer. I'd like to think he gets it from me. [Heh.]

Finn, on the other hand, is our sensitive guy. He hates when his little bro is sick. It makes him anxious and teary. His nurturing side kicks in, big time.

Last night, Ian produced a particularly bad double-blowout in which everything from his diaper to the front and back of his jammies to his hair was covered in all manner of noxious bodily fluids. After a moment of shocked panic -- "What... the hell?!"-- Jon and I mobilized. I grabbed Ian and deposited him on the floor of the bathroom, with Jon close on my heels. We began to strip him down, tossing his clothes directly into the garbage. (Seriously, there was no going back on those pajamas.)

"OK, you fill the bathtub. We need towels, lots and lots of towels. OLD ONES!"

"Right, I'm on it, and I'll grab some clean jammies and get a load of laundry started!"

"Cool, and... break!"

After ten minutes, we had the situation under control and the windows flung open, airing out the house. And then we heard the vacuum going. What the...?

It was our sweet Finn, madly vacuuming the living room. "I didn't know what else to do!" he said in despair. He just wanted to help, somehow.

That's my boy. Love that guy. Both of 'em. All three of 'em.

*****

Update: Ian is on the mend. Now we're just waiting for the bug to hit someone else. I'm guessing we're in for a long weekend.

File This Under: Dream Home

2012-01-24T14:19:00.000-08:00

This is my dream home. It's an old barn. Just check out those amazing rafters overhead.

Sure, it'd be hard to heat, and probably super-hard to keep clean, what with all the history constantly oozing down the walls and stuff.

But still, pretty flippin' awesome.

Photo taken from Design Mom site.

A Sweet 'n' Salty Etta Story

2012-01-20T15:23:00.000-08:00

I am not a huge Etta James fan. It's not that I don't find her music lovely, it's just that I don't tend to listen to her music.

But I did hear "At Last" this morning on the radio, and it sent me into quite a reverie. What's not to like about a song like that?

Here is a post written by my friend and co-worker Liz Devine about the time Etta James sang here at our work. It's a pretty amazing story...

***************

Story and Photo Above by Liz Devine

Music legend Etta James died today at the age of 73. The legacy she left behind in music is timeless and beautiful. But the memory she left with me is one of the highlights of my career.

Etta played at Edgefield Concerts on the Lawn in 2007. The idea that I was going to be able to photograph Etta James was crazy to me — it wasn’t really setting in. Before the concert I was making small talk with another photographer who warned me that “Etta hates having her photo taken.” I thought that was silly since I had been granted photo clearance from her management — I thought, she can’t hate it that much.

The concert started, so I got right up there on stage, getting the shot I needed. I was in awe of the power of her voice; she still had it.

The first song ended, and Etta started talking to the audience. WAIT, she was talking to the audience — about me! She told the crowd how some girl down in front was taking her photo. At first I didn’t believe she was talking about me — but then she looked right at me.

I pointed at myself, mouthing, "Me?”
And she said, "Yes, you!”

OH MY GOD. Etta freaking James just called me out, in front of 5,000 people.

I started yelling, “I’m sorry, Etta, I love you! No more photos, I promise.” She then went on to some other banter, as I stood shocked and in complete disbelief — did that just happen? Then she starts talking to me again, through the mike, so that all 5,000 people are listening.

She said to me – and I quote: ”I don’t want you to be mad at me. Don’t hate me.”
“NO, I’M NOT MAD AT ALL, I LOVE YOU, ETTA! “

So we ended on a good note. Wow. That happened.

I made my way out of the venue, where people who saw me with my big camera asked, ”Are you the one Etta was yelling at!?” — "Yep, that was me.” Wait — that was me. Etta James and I had a moment, and it was amazing.

To this day, that is the single-most memorable experience I’ve had photographing music, and I have the to photos to prove it.

Rest in peace, Etta.

**********************

Stolen from a Friend

2012-01-13T09:42:00.000-08:00

From a friend's Facebook post this morning:

****

My daughter asked the question every parent fears: "Daddy, what is Toy Story on Ice?"

I lied to her, again. I said "It's when a man and a woman love each other very much and they have a special hug that makes babies. Do you want some gum?" That shut her up. For now.

****

Made me spit out my coffee.

Blue = Happy

2012-01-12T11:25:00.000-08:00

This is the color on my nails today and damn, if it isn't making me happier to be here.

It's called Tavares Turquoise and it does not contain formaldehyde, toluene, dibutyl-pthalate or camphor. Because I bought it at New Seasons, the most eco-friendly grocery store chain in the universe.

Fascinating, no? ... wait, it's not? Yeah, I know. The well is not that deep today, so I just went with what came to mind. And in case you're keeping count, I'm up to about 10 different shades of blue nail polish in my collection.

File This Under Random

2012-01-10T14:39:00.000-08:00

Last week, Jon took Finn to the park to throw around Finn's new football. Jon noticed that a couple guys across the park were smoking a joint. But they weren't causing any trouble, so he disregarded it.

FINN: Hey.... what's the smell?

JON: [keeps throwing football]

FINN: Dad, you smell what I smell?

JON: Nope.

FINN: Because it smells like something I've smelled before.

JON: No. Nope. Nothing.

FINN: Ohhh... I know what what smell is!

JON: [keeps throwing football]

FINN: It's steak on a grill! Someone is cooking steak!

JON: Yes! That's it, you're right. Steak on a grill.

FINN: Hey, we should have steak on a grill sometime. It smells great!

I Resolve...

2012-01-03T08:30:00.000-08:00

Okeydoke, here we go for the upcoming year's resolutions...

1. Drink more water, floss more.

Oldies, but goodies -- carry-overs from years and years past.

2. Listen.

I pledge to spend more time listening, less time forming opinions based on my own experience during the time I should be listening. Because it turns out that people -- young and old alike -- enjoy being listened to. Heard, if you will.

3. Spend time with Jon.

Whenever Jon and I have time together that doesn't involve the kids, we tend to spend it with other people. Because we like other people. (You know who you are.) But I resolve to spend more time liking the adult-type person who matters most, with him and him only.

4. Send out birthday cards. On time.

Wow, do I suck at this. Big time. This year, we (this was actually Jon's idea) plan to hit every single one of our nieces' and nephews' birthdays, on time. It's the kids who care about it most, and since we all live so far away from each other, the least we could do is send out a card, maybe with five bucks in it or something.

5. Run to San Francisco.

It is about 635 miles from Portland to San Francisco. If I run at least 3 miles four times a week, that's 624 miles, give or take. If I stick to my game plan, I hope to have run the distance to San Francisco by 2013.

6. Have more dinner parties.

This was on last year's list, and while I did have more parties than in the previous year, I hope to host even more in 2012. I like having my friends over, I like the food and drinks they bring (and leave behind) and I like that I get to show off my kids. I would use the word "potluck" here, but I won't because I don't like it -- it reminds me of 1950s Jell-O salads and church parties.

7. Write a g*ddamn book, g*ddammit.

Seriously. I have wanted to do this since I was seven years old. But I am scared shitless by it, so I can't even try. Yeah, yeah, I know I need to take a stupid writing class or something. Blech.

8. Transcribe my mom's journals.

I need to do this. I need to do this. I need to do this. 2012 is the year I do this.

OK, that is it. I think that's enough.

A Look Back at 2011 -- 12 Posts

2012-01-02T00:15:00.000-08:00

Here are 12 posts handpicked from last year.

JANUARY

Girls'--er, Women's Weekend

FEBRUARY

My Brother, by Finn (age 6)

MARCH

Two Degrees of Separation from Bigfoot!

APRIL

What the &^#%@ Is That?

MAY

An Ode to New Guy

JUNE

Part V: Vacation Photos

JULY

Wanderlust Magnified

AUGUST

Best Words

SEPTEMBER

Straight-Up Trippin', Yo

OCTOBER

Keep Moving Forward

NOVEMBER

I Give Thanks

DECEMBER

Instant Happy-Maker!

Resolutions '11: So How'd I Do?

2012-01-01T15:43:00.000-08:00

Before I put together my list for 2012, here's a follow-up on how I fared with last year's items.

1) Slow down.
Hmmm... I'm going to say this was a fail. It's hard to slow down when you have a toddler in the house. And between him, Finn, Jon, Finn's sports, my job and freelance projects, there isn't a whole lot of time left in which to hit the brakes. Maybe in 2012. But I doubt it.

2) Pull the trigger.
Nope, I'm still not good at this, either. I have a hard time making decisions, especially big ones. So while I'm worrying and fretting and weighing consequences and making pro and con lists, life keeps sailing on by.

3) Write more.
Nope. See lists from 2009, 2010. And it will be on the 2012 list, as well.

4) Get back into an exercise routine.
YES! Finally, something accomplished! Last year at this time, I had given up running. Well, I took it up again, despite the way it makes my circus foot ache. But it's the quickest, simplest, least commitment-heavy way to work up a sweat and burn some calories. I did 3.3 miles on the treadmill today in 30 minutes and I feel great about that.

5) Eat less, drink less.
I did well on this one, too, thanks to Weight Watchers. I have so far kept the 12 pounds that I lost at bay, but I'm probably going back to the program within a few weeks. It was a fun, inexpensive way to goad myself into eating more fruit and vegetables and working out more regularly.

6) Spend less.
Epic fail. Fail fail fail. However, 2012 is the year we get out of credit card debt. It's funny how being on maternity leave, paying for surgery and flying four people across country adds up fast. All worth it, of course, but now we have to pay for it. It's no fun, but will be immensely satisfying when we accomplish our goal.

7) Drink more water, floss, stand up straight.
See lists from 1996, 1997, 1998, 1999... Better on posture and flossing. Still dehydrated.

8) Decide who it is I am and want to be.
Last year at this time I was having a hard time accepting myself as an adult, even with a husband, two kids, mortgage, job, blah, blah, blah. But I don't feel that way anymore. I feel like I am more comfortable in my own soon-to-be-39-year-old skin.

9) Wake up.
I'm not sure how I did on this one. I still feel like I'm coasting through life, and have been for a couple years. I need to consider this one again.

10) Make life fun.
Sometimes stuff gets too serious. There are always things and obligations and responsibilities. I have a difficult time staying in the moment, enjoying life for what it is. This one could use some more work in 2012, as well.

In Between Holidays

2011-12-27T16:16:00.000-08:00

* Ian did end up getting an Elmo doll for Christmas. His daycare had one that they were giving away, so they gave it to us. Elmo is wearing a Hawaiian shirt and, when you squeeze his hand (paw?), he will do the limbo. The only problem is that it freaks Ian right the hell out. But he likes it if you don't make it move, so we'll call it good.

* I went for a run outside in the rain on my lunch break. There is nothing like a good sweat to clear your head of cobwebs. The trail passes beneath some huge cedars -- they smell sweet to me, not like cedar chips, but some sort of crazy sweetness.

* I'm thinking about this coming year's list of New Year's resolutions. Here are my lists from 2011 and 2010. It was a little surprising that many of the things I've been considering for 2012 have been on my lists since 2008 (and probably earlier) -- drink more water, write a book, pay off debt. At least I'm consistent.

* Santa (i.e., me) gave me three new nail polishes in my stocking! One blue (Lapis of Luxury), one lavender (Lilacism) and one dark sparkly violet (Genius). I think it's the names that draw me in. It's the little things in life...

* I won something! My former employer, the George Eastman House International Museum of Photography and Film, held a contest on Facebook to win a copy of one of their curator's latest books, called 500 Cameras. And they picked me to receive a copy. Very cool.

* No plans for New Year's Eve. It is tough finding a babysitter on that particular night, and we didn't even try, to be honest. I'm looking forward to snuggling the boys in, safe and sound, to their beds and then snuggling up with Jon for a glass of champagne and an early bedtime.

Grumble, Grumble...

2011-12-21T14:47:00.000-08:00

A few festive annoyances for today:

* A commercial for KY Jelly Intense during an 8 a.m. screening of "Elf"?? Really, TV people? Really? Seems to me that someone miscalculated their target audience. I could not find the remote control fast enough, much too late for Finn not to ask, "Wait, what is that stuff for? What are those people doing? What, like, do they need it for if they are just going to bed?"

* The baby would like an Elmo doll. Seemed easy enough -- Elmo is ubiquitous. That little *&@#^% is everywhere. Except if you want one, you have to get a hard one (not a soft one) that needs batteries and shouts falsetto crap at you all day long, for the low, low price of $39.99. No. Won't do it. Sorry, Ian, no "MoMo" for you.

* No holiday bonus this year. Bah-humbug. {First-world problem.}

THANK YOU, Portland!

2011-12-15T10:03:00.000-08:00

Sometimes, it's just too easy. The local news threw out a meatball (extra cheese) today. It's the headline that pulls you in.

Thank you, bad journalists of Portland. Happy holidays to each and every last one of you. And to Luke Skywalker, get better soon, buddy.

*****************

Hillsboro Man in Custody after Light Saber Attack

@KGWNews

Posted on December 15, 2011 at 6:28 AM

PORTLAND -- Portland police wrestled a man to the ground who had reportedly been swinging a 'Star Wars' light saber at customers in a Toys R Us store at Jantzen Beach, said Sgt. Pete Simpson.

Officers were dispatched to the store shortly before 10 p.m., Wednesday on reports that the man had already assaulted three customers with the toy sword. None of them was injured.

Before officers arrived, dispatchers were told the man had walked out into the parking lot, still swinging the sword. Police found the man in the lot talking incoherently.

An officer tried to use a Taser, but the device failed. A second Taser also failed after the man used the light saber to break one of the wires, Simpson said.

Officers then rushed the man, taking him to the ground as he struggled violently and continued to shout nonsense.

The man was placed on a police hold at a hospital for a mental evaluation.

Sunday Afternoon in the City

2011-12-12T08:29:00.000-08:00

This weekend, Finn and I went out to go "poke around," as we call it -- usually involves cake and a drive to explore a new neighborhood in the city.

[Note: Sorry about the massive photos in this post -- I fussed around with them for awhile but couldn't get them any smaller.]

First up, the boy and I headed for sweets at Pix Patisserie in our neighborhood. Finn opted for some housemade chocolate ice cream while I got this thing called a Shazam -- a dark chocolate bag filled with almond cake and caramel mousse. But the fleur de sel macaron we got on the way out? Holy crap, that was good. I'd never had a French macaron before (not to be confused with the chewy coconut macaroons). I'm a fan.

After that, we drove downtown to see the city Christmas tree in Pioneer Courthouse Square. This year, it's a locally grown 75-foot-tall Doug fir, adorned with red, green and blue twinkle lights (LED lights that use 90% less electricity than standard, incandescent lights, of course). Photo taken from the Portland Tribune.

And then, it was off to poke around. We headed south on Broadway, and from there, Finn noticed one of my favorite Portland holiday traditions, glowing on the side of the West Hills neighborhood above the city -- the Martini Glass.

Every holiday season, a house built on stilts on the side of the steep hill lights up its infamous, two-story tall martini glass. Here's one story about it, with another photo from the Trib:

****
The Portland martini glass was constructed in the late 1970s by teenager Monty Meadows who lived in the house. He built the sign with stuff he picked up throughout the area. The sign has grown larger and more elaborate over the years, remaining with the house as new occupants moved in. At one point, MADD (Mothers Against Drunk Drivers) said no to the glass and it disappeared. Eventually, everyone came to a compromise: After 10 p.m., a red slash lights up across the glass, discouraging holiday party-goers from heading out onto the roads.
****

Finn wanted a closer look, so up into the West Hills we went. These homes have incredible views of downtown Portland and the river -- despite some of them being a bit run-down, they go for a million or more.

We located ol' Monty's childhood home after some twisty hills and hairpin turns. The view was incredible, looking out past the lit-up martini glass. Finn was impressed and asked if we could do some sort of light display on our house -- I'm thankful he didn't suggest Mommy's wine glass or Dad's bottle of beer.

Interestingly enough, just two or three houses past Monty's Martini Glass is the famous Piggott's Castle (also called Gleall's Castle and Piggott's Folly). I had to look all this stuff up -- a wealthy business tycoon built this house on the hill in 1892. Piggott designed the castle himself, without the benefit of right angles or consistent shapes between rooms. His favorite room was what he called his "sanctum sanctorum," which sat atop the home’s turret and was a room from which women were excluded. After only a year in the home, Piggott was forced to move out, as he couldn’t afford to live there any longer. It was uninhabited and run down for years, but there is obviously a family there now, as evidenced by the vintage old-timey Santa Claus that Finn spotted on the 2nd-floor balcony last night. (Although it looks like this katu.com news photo was taken around Halloween, if the skeleton on the balcony is any indication.)

And the 2012 Pantone Winner Is...

2011-12-09T11:30:00.000-08:00

One of my favorite things every December is when Pantone announces its color of the coming year.

So, without further ado...

The Color of 2012 is...

Tangerine Tango!

From the Pantone press release:

Tangerine Tango, a spirited reddish orange, continues to provide the energy boost we need to recharge and move forward.

“Sophisticated but at the same time dramatic and seductive, Tangerine Tango is an orange with a lot of depth to it,” said Leatrice Eiseman, executive director of the Pantone Color Institute®. “Reminiscent of the radiant shadings of a sunset, Tangerine Tango marries the vivaciousness and adrenaline rush of red with the friendliness and warmth of yellow, to form a high-visibility, magnetic hue that emanates heat and energy.”

Over the past several years, orange has grown in popularity and acceptance among designers and consumers alike. A provocative attention-getter, Tangerine Tango is especially appealing in men’s and women’s fashion. Fashion designers featured in the PANTONE Fashion Color Report Spring 2012, including Tommy Hilfiger, Nanette Lepore, Cynthia Steffe by Shaun Kearney, Elie Tahari and Adrienne Vittadini, are incorporating this attractive orange into their spring collections. A fun, lively take on a traditional autumnal hue, Tangerine Tango will surely carry through to fall fashion as well.

A winner in cosmetics because of its versatility, Tangerine Tango is a bit exotic, but in a very friendly, non-threatening way. Add a sultry flair to lips, cheeks and nails with Tangerine Tango. An unexpected eye shadow color, Tangerine Tango is a complementary opposite that flatters blue or green eyes. When paired with brown eyes, it brings out an amber cast.

Energize interior spaces with Tangerine Tango patterned home accessories. Pillows, bedspreads and tabletop accessories in this high-impact hue add spice to any room. Or incorporate Tangerine Tango appliances and personal electronics for an unexpected pop of color. Looking for an inexpensive way to perk up your home? Paint a wall in Tangerine Tango for a dynamic burst of energy in the kitchen, entryway or hallway.

Mind Wanderings

2011-12-05T08:55:00.000-08:00

* This is the second day in a row that I have had bouts of light-headedness. Spinny, floating, vertigo-ish feelings that are not altogether pleasant. I'm drinking more water to combat my head floating up and away. Hopefully that will work.

* Poor Mr. Baby had a stomach bug yesterday. And we learned that he prefers to stand while he pukes. Six out of 8 times, he would wiggle out of my arms to get into a standing position before clearing out his belly. He'd stand up, wobble around a little bit, turn green, and emit a splashy fountain of nastiness. The last two times, the poor kid was so exhausted that he couldn't even manage to sit up, much less stand, making a big mess of his hair and crib. I did a lot of hot-water laundry. And then, snap!, it was over and he slept comfortably through the night. He was back to 100% this a.m.

* The above episode made me grateful yet again for our wood floors.

* Finn had his first cavity filled today. Turns out it was not a result of poor dental hygiene, but a naturally-caused cavity in the actual tooth itself. The dentist said he sees it every once in awhile, and that the hole was filled "with brown dust." Gag. The boy was a trooper, though, and only cried a little bit during the Novocaine shot.

* Christmas Spirit, where are you? Get in here. I need you.

* We are going to a holiday party this weekend, and I am dressing up, dammit. It's not very often anymore that I get to put on a fancy dress. I'm wearing a form-fitting lightweight black wool number with a sweetheart neckline, cap sleeves and just-below-the-knee pencil skirt, paired with 4-inch green heels. And plenty o' Spanx and red lipstick.

* This weekend, we (i.e., Jon) repaid our neighbors for some pet-watching by cooking them dinner. He made them smoked leg of lamb with harissa; taboulleh; roasted sweet dumpling squash stuffed with couscous, dried fruit, feta and toasted almonds; and baklava. I sampled as he went along and it was really pretty delicious. I am one lucky girl; there are leftovers.

* Jon and I are foregoing Christmas gifts for each other this year. There is just too much other stuff (stuff we call "bills") that we are worrying about. So we'll do presents for the boys and call it good. However, we do have one ace up our sleeve -- an already-paid-for overnight stay at the Salishan Lodge out on the coast. So once we have the time to go and someone willing to spend the night at our place to mind the boys, we will take off for a solid 36 hours.

Instant Happy-Maker!

2011-12-02T11:47:00.000-08:00

Feeling a little blue? A little gray? Maybe even black?

This will instantly improve your mood. It made me so happy after just 3 seconds that some happy got lodged in my brain and I am going to have a hard time getting it out.

Enjoy, colorful pretty people.

World's Best Mommy

2011-11-30T06:00:00.000-08:00

FINN: Can I say a bad word?
ME: Um, OK, go ahead.
FINN: OK. Here I go. I’m gonna do it! [deep breath] Stupid! [gales of laughter, just killing himself] Hey, can I say another bad word?
ME: Sure. Go for it. [expecting “poop” or “vomit” or something similar]
FINN: [deep breath, then yells] FUCK!!!!

Not my best parenting moment ever.

My Sister is Famous

2011-11-29T12:27:00.001-08:00

My sister Anne is being featured today on a popular design blog called Design Mom -- she is part of a week's worth of great holiday giveaways. This blog gets a million hits a month, so I'm keeping my fingers crossed for big things for my darling big sister Annie Banannie.

Enter to win all of the stuff they are promoting for the entire week, including Anne's artwork.

Go right now! And good luck.

I Give Thanks

2011-11-28T08:50:00.000-08:00

I'm not sure if this is an annual thing of mine or not, but here's a top-of-mind list of stuff for which I'm currently thankful.

It is not a list of obvious things -- of course I'm thankful for my boys, my husband, my health, my family, my friends. That all goes without saying. This list is about stuff that goes with saying:

Funny people. I cannot live without them. The list includes my husband, my sister, my girlfriends and a very select handful of people on Facebook.
Facebook. How else would I know when former high school classmates have bagged an 8-pointer or when someone I barely know is thinking of buying new boots?
The way Ian (now 18 months) calls milk "gook." And the way Finn (now 7 years, 9 months) says, "Got gook?" Heh.
People who write crafty blogs. I don't craft stuff, so I don't know why I love to read about their homemade confetti, kitchen demolition or glittery gift tag projects, but I do. Blogs that I read regularly include Marta Writes, Young House Love and Oh Happy Day.
People who write funny blogs. Tom and Lorenzo make me chortle on a daily basis. Their sense of humor is wicked.
Temporary tattoos for adults. I had a big rainbow circle on my forearm for a week that made me happy every time I looked at it. I have one left and I'm saving it.
The speed with which my Jetta heats up inside, within a minute or less. I am frequently thankful for that. I do not like to be cold.
A size smaller jeans. Thanks, Weight Watchers and treadmill.
Truffled brie and hot bread and white wine.
Hotel rooms.
"Boooooop." -- What Ian will say if you touch his tiny little nose. I am thankful for it.
Boots and jeans and t-shirts.
Not having to shovel snow.
Bright blue.
Blue nail polish.
Sunset magazine.
The moment after I finish a lunchtime run at the gym. And the hot shower afterwards.
The hour of time after both boys are in bed for the night.
How Jon tells me that I shouldn't try to lose any more weight because I look good now. Isn't that awesome? I am very, very thankful for that, and for him.
A really great sandwich.
The possibility of Bigfoot.
Watching Finn play goalie or swing a bat. The kid is a natural athlete and it is beautiful to see.
Doritos for breakfast.
Girls' night.
Apple-cinnamon candles.
Nighttime neighborhood walks with my first born. We haven't done this in awhile, so it's time to start 'em up again.
"Survivor," "The Amazing Race" and "Top Chef." Oh, fine, I am also thankful for "Top Model," there, I said it.
Friends who are willing to giggle through the latest Twilight film with me.
Robert Pattinson.
When Ian likes a new food. Anything other than cheese, noodles and ham seems like a nutritional victory.
The way Finn now thinks it's cool to try new foods, after years and years of nothing but mac and cheese.
Our red oak wood floors. I am thankful we had them installed, because they are totally worth it and beautiful. And if you spray just a tiny bit of Pledge on them, you can slide around in your socks like you're ice skating.
This here blog. I hit the 4-year mark last Monday. Thanks for those of you who keep coming back, for whatever reason.

Alcoholic Art

2011-11-23T09:54:00.000-08:00

Apparently, this is what vodka looks like under a microscope. Forget drinking it, I want to hang some on my wall.

Random Observations

2011-11-21T12:01:00.000-08:00

From Finn this weekend, while we were driving around the city enjoying the holiday lights:

"Portland is really pretty right now. I bet it's almost as special as Detroit is. That's where they make fancy Chrysler cars."

Perhaps Detroit, MI, will be his generation's Portland, OR.

"STREET SHIRT!"

2011-11-16T11:33:00.001-08:00

A few months ago, I did a very earthy, sustainable, Portland-esque thing. Finn and I were taking a walk in the neighborhood. It was a rainy, drizzly day. We were walking along, chatting about various things (baseball, playing baseball, how much he likes to play baseball) when I spied something bright and happy-colored in the gutter.

It was a t-shirt, sunshine-orange, with a beautiful multicolored design on the front. It was also soaking wet, covered in dirt, leaves and God knows what else. And I wanted it.

"Hey, I like this shirt. I think I'm going to take it home and wash it."

"No, Mommy, that's gross! Just leave it there! What if has, like, poop on it?"

"I'm taking it. I like it."

And so I did. Took it home, washed it a few times in hot water, and now it is my very favorite t-shirt ever. Super-soft and worn in, yet not raggedy. Perfect for working out or for sleeping in. And the colors make me happy.

It has a Mexican design on it, with the label "Eliseo Castro Villa." I suspected it was a souvenir shirt from a Mexican resort or hotel. But it turns out that Eliseo Castro Villa is a pioneer of the yarn art movement from the 1970s and is now one of the most collected Mexican Huichol artists still working today.

Cool. I like supporting artists by rescuing their mangy t-shirts from the gutter. And I also like how, whenever I wear the t-shirt, Jon and Finn will yell, "STREET SHIRT!"

You Tell 'Em, King

2011-11-14T09:16:00.000-08:00

Hey, it's my workout buddy, King Abdullah of Jordan, in the headlines, taking a stand against the Syrian government.

What up, King? Remember me? Looking good, buddy.

http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/45286356/ns/world_news-mideast_n_africa/

Keep Moving Forward

2011-10-31T15:28:00.000-07:00

I had my first mammogram this morning, (a.k.a., the boob squish). It's definitely not a comfortable procedure, but not as bad as I expected. I held it together pretty well until the technician was done, and then I burst into tears. She wasn't surprised and said it's a common reaction. It's an emotional experience for a lot of women.

My mom was diagnosed with breast cancer when she was in her mid-40s. I was about 11 years old. For some reason, my dad and I were with her, waiting in the lobby of the doctor's office, when she got the news. I have a vivid image of her as she strode hard and fast through the doorway from the exam room, looked at my dad and said, "Yep, it's cancer," and just kept walking straight out through the building to the car. She kept moving forward. She made the air move around her.

I saw such strength and energy in her in that moment, when what she was probably feeling was shock, fear and an instinct to flee. It doesn't matter, since what she demonstrated to me, her young daughter -- to keep moving forward -- has influenced my life ever since in a powerful and positive way.

I remember asking my oldest brother, who was 21 and in medical school, if she was going to die. He said, "I don't know" and hugged me while I sobbed. It registered that it was one of the first times I'd been given such honest news, delivered without candy coating. And for that, I thank my brother.

Our mom went through major surgeries and chemotherapy, and eventually she beat the cancer back. She lived another 15 years, long enough to see all five of her kids fall in love and get married and begin to have kids of their own. She was a true survivor.

Because we have a history of breast cancer on both sides of our family, getting a mammogram this morning felt like a step toward acknowledging my own mortality. In my mind, the girls -- and my sister's -- are like ticking time bombs. Very small ones, in my case, but dangerous nonetheless. And I hate that.

A Call for Artists

2011-10-24T12:04:00.000-07:00

My sister, Anne, is the director of the Cattaragus County Arts Council in western New York. (And that's New York State, not New York City.) She is one of those people who gets things done. Interesting people gravitate toward her. She has boundless energy and a unending supply of positivity. She is my best friend and my polar opposite.

So, if you are interested in helping out by donating a work of art to the non-profit that she runs, that would be fine and dandy. Here's the info:

**********

Call for artists...6x6 Exhibition for the Cattaraugus County Arts Council

CCAC has been working hard for 13 years to transform quality of life in the Southern Tier of New York State.

Artists, if you’re interested in donating a painting, print, tile, mounted jewelry, fabric art, or anything that is 6" x 6" to support the services and programming of the Cattaraugus County Arts Council (CCAC), please email anne@myartscouncil.net for more information or download the guidelines and entry forms.

Each artist may donate up to 10 pieces by the deadline of November 5!

At 6 p.m. on Nov. 19, the Cattaraugus County Arts Council will open its doors at 100 Main Street in Allegany for its first annual 6 x 6: Art for Everyone fundraiser. The CCAC walls will be festooned with hundreds of dazzling, multicolored, multidimensional 6" x 6" works of art hung in a show-stopping grid.

For only $10 at the door, attendees will be treated to appetizers and refreshments as they vie for their favorites to take home for their own viewing pleasure or as one-of-a kind gifts. Each piece will sell for $25.

To level the playing field, value and name recognition have been erased. All work will be displayed anonymously in order for supporters to purchase works for pure pleasure. Artists will identify themselves on the back of each work.

Attendees who want to ensure getting their top choice can purchase a first-pick ticket. CCAC is selling just 30 of the first-pick tickets for $50 (includes admission). Purchase your first-pick ticket or preregister online for the event.

Halloween Debate

2011-10-17T12:15:00.001-07:00

This morning on public radio, a local show asked the question:

Should Halloween costumes be banned from Portland public schools?

One public elementary school has banned costumes because they can be exclusionary and distracting. And people are all up in arms about it.

The radio discussion went back and forth with people calling in to argue for and against. People got extremely fired up. My mind changed a few times. Here are some of the cited points:

YES, ban costumes from schools:

* The practice excludes those children who, for financial, cultural or religious reasons, don't dress up for the holiday.

* Oregon has one of the shortest school schedules in the nation. And we're giving up yet another half-day for the costumed character parade?

* It makes for a very distracted bunch of kids, with whom the teacher then has to contend.

* It should be a family tradition, not a public school tradition.

NO, costumes in schools are fine:

* It's an American tradition that is being trampled by misdirected political correctness.

* Stop overthinking it and let the kids enjoy themselves -- call it social education, if you must.

* It's fun, dammit.

In the end, I found myself agreeing to do away with the public school's costumes and character parades. I hate the idea of some kids being left out because they don't have a costume or their single-parent didn't have time to make one or because they just don't like dressing up.

But what fuels my fire even more is that the Oregon education system can't afford more time off for activities that don't promote learning. I don't feel my child is receiving the same level of education as I did, growing up in western NY.

This is not the teachers' fault. The teachers with whom we have relationships all seem as frustrated with the system as the parents are. My kid's classroom is overflowing with students (I believe there are 30 in his room), he doesn't have the same one-on-one access to his teachers that I had available to me, they are limiting art and music education, there is an alarming schedule of half-days and closed days... It goes on and on and it is disturbing.

So, I agree -- no costumes in the schools. I'm for doing away with the whole practice. Let the parents decide how/when/why to dress up or not.

In our house, I -- oops, I mean, we -- we very much look forward to having a huge bag of candy to dive into all week long. Oh, and the dressing up and the seeing the neighbors and the cute photos and all of that business, too, of course -- lots of fun. Just not at school.

What do you say? What are your thoughts?

Growing Up Weird

2011-10-11T14:35:00.000-07:00

This morning, en route to Finn's school at 8:30 a.m., we passed a guy dressed as a giant chicken riding a bicycle.

I said, "Hey, Finn, check out that guy dressed as a giant chicken riding a bicycle!"

Finn said, and I quote, "Yep."

Only in Portland... unless you, too, have seen a guy dressed as a giant chicken riding a bicycle where you live??

Note: Sorry, didn't have the wherewithal to take a photo. But it happened.

A Day at the Beach, Pacific NW-Style

2011-10-03T21:31:00.000-07:00

The fog was so thick we could barely see the ocean. But we could hear it.

We built a fire and cracked some cans of cheap beer and wandered after the kids, who were poking around in colorful tidepools.

Eventually the fog burned off and we could take off a layer or two of fleece to enjoy the warmth of the sunshine.

Straight-Up Trippin', Yo

2011-09-29T08:59:00.000-07:00

I love a good trip-and-fall, even when it happens to me.

So, in theory, I should be laughing my arse off at my latest gravitational failure. But it's still a little too soon. And I'm a little too sore.

I decided last night, around dusk, to head out for a little run around the neighborhood. Just a light-and-easy jog to clear my head and earn a few extra WW points (a.k.a., a glass of wine).

At exactly four minutes and 28 seconds, there was a malfunction. My circus foot caught on my regular foot and I found myself being propelled violently toward the asphalt at electrifying speed.

Whilst in my downward descent, I believe I said, "AAAAAAAAAAGH!"

And then my knees hit and skidded, followed by my palms hitting and skidding, underneath one of which was my iPod, which also hit and skidded. I sat on the sidewalk for a few minutes, trying not to throw up while I assessed the damage. Wet, bloodied knees. Bits of rock and dirt stuck in palms. iPod secure and still playing.

At that point, I had two choices. I could limp back home and collapse into Jon's arms. Or I could pick myself up and keep going. Strangely enough, that is what I did -- I kept going. What the...? Who is this bad-ass whom I have become? I actually felt OK running, so what the hell, I finished out 30 minutes. And I skipped the congratulatory glass of wine, because it didn't seem like a run that had earned congratulations.

Flash-forward to this morning. Serious pain. I could barely get out of bed. Knees are aflame. My circus foot is on strike. My neck hurts, just because.

Jon: Hey, do you think maybe running isn't the best thing for you?
Me: What? Are you saying I am graceless? Because I know that.
Jon: No, I'm saying maybe running isn't the best thing for you.
Me: I KNOW THAT.

But I forgave him for that little exchange, because he gave me a circus-foot rub that loosened everything up so I could stand.

Standing is seriously underrated.

Mind Wanderings

2011-09-28T08:49:00.000-07:00

* Still hurting from the very sad Arch West news. But did want to point out that I had nothing to do with the writing of the previous post. It was lifted from npr.org, which posted it from elsewhere.

* I wish Doritos had been named Arch Chips. Or maybe just Archips. I was enjoying some of the neon-orange treats with a Texan friend of mine the other day and she called them "doh-REE-toes." Not "doh-REE-does," like the rest of the world. It'd be simpler if they were just called Archips.

* News on the weight-watching front -- I gained .6 lbs last week. I just really like to eat and drink and so I did. What I don't get is how I wasn't constantly gaining copious amounts of weight before I started weight-watching, when I was working out sporadically and eating like the true queen I am. Why now, when I'm in full-tilt workout mode and eating like an unfavored court jester, am I gaining? Stupid. And don't give me any of that muscle-weighs-more-than fat nonsense. Everyone knows it's the numbers that matter to chicks.

* Apart from all of that, I look fabulous today. Wearing my first pair of skinny jeans, a brilliant scarlet red blouse, a metal Celtic design necklace that I borrowed for life from my sister who received it from an old boyfriend and four-inch black suede ankle boots.

* I smell pretty great, as well. I was out of perfume, got a freelance check in and so splurged on some new fragrance. I will always stick with Chanel and opted this year for Coco. Here's the description:

The opening is a fresh burst of florals and the heart is a gloriously warm and spicy rose mixed with spices. The drydown is divine with a beautiful aura of rich vanilla, making this fragrance's composition the result of a very talented and masterful perfumer.

In other words, it smells great. Period. Even Finn told me so.

* Thinking about getting a tattoo. But it has to combine elements of personal significance. No roses or tribal armbands. So, elements of significance... let's see... Archips. Hot tubs. Hotel rooms. My sweet boys. Rainbow-colored stuff. Wow, this is really coming together in my head as I write -- the boys eating chips in a fancy hotel hot tub filled with rainbow-colored water. It will be the single-most unique body ink in all the land, befitting of a queen like me.

"Ashes to Ashes, Orange Dust to Orange Dust"

2011-09-26T08:57:00.000-07:00

Sandwich Monday: In Memoriam
From npr.org

Arch West, creator of Doritos, died last week at the age of 97. His family will reportedly toss Doritos over his funeral urn before covering it with dirt. In acknowledgment of Mr. West and his great invention, we thought we'd devote today to the Doritos Sandwich.

There are a number of recipes out there — one calls for peanut butter, jelly, and Doritos — but we went with the simpler Doritos and Miracle Whip on Wonder Bread.

Eva: The Miracle Whip makes it horrible.

Peter: It's not the Doritos' fault. It's never the Doritos' fault.

Ian: Yeah. Just think, without Arch West, we'd just be eating Miracle Whip on white bread right now.

Mike: Here's the thing about Doritos: if all you have in your house is Doritos and white bread, you don't make a sandwich. You just eat Doritos.

Robert: And use the white bread as a coaster.

Ian: I'm guessing if all you have in your house is Doritos and white bread, you're not a coaster person.

[Eva sculpts the mysterious Doritos Sandwich Ball.]

Eva: One recipe says you can just mash it into a ball, if you need to take it to go.

Mike: It looks like a Doritos Pod. Is this where Doritos come from?

Ian: Finally, a ball for people who aren't good at sports.

Eva: It's got a great crunch, but it's still horrible.

Peter: It's the Marni Nixon of sandwiches. Nobody wants to look at it but it sounds great.

Robert: I'd like to thank Arch West for all these memories and empty calories.

Mike: I guess you could say what lies before us are his crumb-ains.

Ian: Ashes to ashes, orange dust to orange dust.

[The verdict: as a sandwich, it's not the best. This proves, I like to think, that Arch West created something that couldn't be improved upon: it's best in its essential form. It may also prove that Miracle Whip is kind of gross, but that's for another day.]

Something Cute

2011-09-23T15:25:00.000-07:00

Wouldn't you just die for eyelashes like those?

Don't you want to bite his cheeks?

And I wonder what the heck he's thinking about so intently? He's not even 1.5 years old.

Photo by Liz Devine

Mind Wanderings

2011-09-21T08:27:00.000-07:00

The goal here is to post more than once a week. I am not meeting my goal.

* However, I am doing a bang-up job on my Weight Watchers goal! Nine-point-three pounds gone, y'all -- whoop, whoop! Onward and downward!

* It was announced today that R.E.M. has disbanded. I've mentioned before my thing for Peterbuck, who seems to frequent our neighborhood grocery store. Why, you ask, is a former member of a massively huge rock band hanging around grocery stores in Portland, Ore.? Because this city kicks ass, that's why. And also because Peterbuck likes grocery stores, as evidenced by this comment left on the msnbc.com story about the band's break-up:

*****
Having gone to school in Athens in the 80's, REM played a huge part in my musical life! My roommate and I would listen to Life's Rich Pageant over and over again. It was so exciting to run into Peter Buck in the grocery store. He was so nice and even signed the scrap piece of paper I pulled out of my purse. I wish them lots to luck and many thanks for all the good music!!
*****

Weird right? He's into grocery stores and flinging yogurt.

* Will be doing this -- galaxy nails -- because it is pretty and would make me happy. Shallow? Yes. Pretty and would make me happy? Yes. And I have those four colors.

* Solo hotel night happening in t-minus 3 days. Shopping, movie, reading, sleeping.

* I just "acted" in a promo video about a new beer we have coming out. I "acted" like I was drinking a pint of cool, fresh, delicious beer. I opted for method acting. Some days my job is hard. Today wasn't that day.

Mind Wanderings

2011-09-14T08:41:00.000-07:00

I have had a bunch of ideas lately for what I'd consider to be good post topics (you know, horses, romance novels, that sort of thing) and then they all floated away. So, some flotsam and jetsam that is currently tangling in my brain:

* There is a beach I've been dying to go to up here in the Pacific NW called Ruby Beach, supposedly one of the best spots in the world for beach combing. Something about the topography and tide pattern makes all sorts of cool junk wash up -- it is most notable for its sea glass. And its sea stacks.

* I finally scheduled a solo hotel night for myself. I'll be doing some walking, some shopping, maybe a movie, some reading and some shopping. Unfortunately, I did Priceline and undersold myself on the star rating. I got a 3-star when what I ideally wanted was a 3.5- or 4-star. C'est la vie, I'll still be on my own. [Note: First-world problem. It'll make sense in a second.]

* My husband turns 40 this Friday. He's OK with it. But I really, really wish he'd cut his hair and shave his face. His look has gone way past hipster ironic and way into pathetic homeless. I hate it, and I have been blunt about that. He says the end is near, hirsute-wise. I can only hope.

* The birthday beach party is in a few weeks. Here's a shot of the view from the deck:

I plan to be on that deck, staring out at that ocean, cocktail in hand, chick magazine open, with nary a care in the world except whether or not we're going to run out of Doritos.

* Speaking of which, here's a good website that I wish I'd thought of (hey... that's a first-world problem!): http://therealfirstworldproblems.tumblr.com/

* I have lost 8 lbs and counting. Phhhhtpppht!

* First-world problem: "Top Model" and "Survivor" premiere tonight, and I was supposed to go to the movies with girlfriends and another friend is having a "Top Model" premiere party. Crap. I don't know what to do. This is so, so very hard.

* I look fabulous today. Blue/black/white pattern wrap dress. Done and done.

* OK, this is getting more and more shallow as I dribble on, so best to end it here.

George & Bono

2011-09-12T15:38:00.000-07:00

There isn't a single thing I don't like about this photo.

You just know they are discussing a means to save the world, yet discussing it in a very witty, clever manner, drink in hand, laugh lines on face, earrings and toolboxy sunglasses notwithstanding, just one millionaire short-arse to another.

Still, I swoon.

Happy House

2011-09-07T11:15:00.000-07:00

This takes my breath away. I love it so much. It's on Clipper St. in San Francisco, go figure.

#&&^$#@ Adirondack Chairs

2011-08-28T14:41:00.000-07:00

I finally got around to buying some spray paint for my pine Adirondack chairs. Krylon Ocean Breeze Blue. Very pretty. Relaxing.

For some reason, I read a bunch of crafty, home-making blogs. These people are constantly doing cute little projects around their houses, and they make it sound so flippin' easy. These people are spray painting stuff all the time.

So, I figured I could get my crafty-pants on for one day, knock out this easy project.

Wrong.

I am four cans of Ocean Breeze Blue into one chair and it still looks like shite. This pine wood is just soaking up the paint. It barely looks painted at all.

So, two trips to the paint store and one to a hardware store later, I am not even halfway done with one chair. The dude at the store told me I "shouldn't have" to prime the wood, but he was incorrect, sir.

What. The Hell.

[rips off crafty-pants]

Another five cans, two days and photos to come later. I am over it for today. And I need to go put some pants on.

Best Words

2011-08-26T14:55:00.000-07:00

Alright, in an effort to be more positive, here we go -- a collection of words my co-workers and I like, here in an unedited list:

ocean
cerulean
shine
ridiculous
magical
lollipop
caboodle
weiner
scamper
serendipity
urban
aureola
always
jackass
turd
lipstick
anthrax
scrotum
boogie
dreamy
buster
hairy
lazy
livid
toothsome
snacky
gingerbread
floatation
stroll

*****

Some of the comments:
"I'm naming my first born Aureola. I love scrotum too."

"Intercourse. Whimsy. Circular. Moisture. Oh shit I was doing the ones I hate."

"Jeezus, I could do this all day."

*****

Alright, go for it -- use a bunch of them in a sentence. Can't wait to see the hairy scrotum weiner quips come rolling in. (Yes, I'm talking to you.)

Decemberists + String Cheese and an Egg

2011-08-25T15:15:00.000-07:00

Today, it feels east-coast-hot. 90+ degrees and fuggy.

And The Decemberists are sound checking about 300 yards from my desk and it is irritating. I kind of want to go out there and say, "Yo, shut up, emo Portlanders." But I won't, because that wouldn't be nice.

All I had for lunch, due to the crowds of Decemberists fans choking up the joint, was string cheese, a hard-boiled egg and a Diet Coke.

That is one dumb@ss lunch. (But only 4 points.)

So I splurged on a tiny piece of Dove dark chocolate. The inspirational message printed inside the wrapper was this:

"Chocolate will never let you down."

What's the weird subtext there, I wonder? Chocolate won't, but _______ will.

Life?
Men?
The Decemberists?

Too damn hot.

UPDATE: Rainbow Wedges

2011-08-24T10:11:00.000-07:00

The circus shoes arrived yesterday. You remember, these ones:

I gleefully ripped into the box, pulled them out and this was the reaction:

JON: Wow. Pretty.
FINN: Oooooh.... nice, Mommy.
IAN: Blurg burble goobie [fart].
ME: UGH! Hideous! What was I thinking?

They were bad. Real bad. Ridiculously clompity for a wonderfully tall person such as myself, despite the rainbow. Yeah, yeah, I should have seen all of this beforehand, but those colors seduced me.

I've done this before. The one and only time I bid on and won anything on eBay, it was for a fluttery, tiered cocktail dress in those same shades of blue and green. It was beautiful and soooooo not my style. I'm a wrap-dress kind of gal, not a fluttery tiered dress chick. I ended up selling it at a consignment shop, where, coincidentally, I found the exact dress that I am wearing today, a blue and green vintage silk wrap dress in a Gaudi-inspired mosaic print. Love it.

Anyway, the shoes are going back. Sigh.

Until then, here is something -- or someone -- to cheer me up:

Update: Watching

2011-08-22T10:36:00.000-07:00

I know you've been anxiously awaiting an update on my Weight Watchering since I began on August 1.

Today's tally: 4.6 lbs gone in 3 weeks.

Slowly but surely, this turtle will win the race, as long as I don't completely run out of motivation and energy by then. And, note to self, never again will I compare myself to a turtle.

Tomorrow, if I get to it -- some photos from a trip to the coast yesterday. Until then, here's what a typical Pacific NW beach day looks like:

Impulse Buy (a.k.a. Yet Another Shoe Post)

2011-08-17T08:11:00.000-07:00

Just bought these. It's like they were designed for me. Who needs to paint Adirondack chairs when I have these? Marked down 50%, no less?

Love.

Worst Words

2011-08-15T16:22:00.000-07:00

I can barely make myself write this. That's how much I don't feel like writing anything.

Blogging, for me, ebbs and flows. I am currently ebbing. Big time. I've got nothing to say. No, I have a lot to say, I just don't feel like saying it. Lazy.

So, in the meantime, I will steal the closest thing to me -- my co-workers' "World's Worst Words" list posted on the wall:

moist
cluster
middlin'
bespoke
tip
comprise
verbiage
mouthfeel
rectify
hatch
sac
yummy
cloisters
phlegm
panties
ascerbic

What words do you hate?
And who can use at least six of the words above in a sentence? (Points off for moist yummy panties. Too obvious.)

Score!

2011-08-09T22:49:00.000-07:00

Hey, remember this post where I talked about this dress:

Well, I happened to go to the Boden website and saw that it was marked from full price ($128) to not-full-price ($51!).

And thus, it became mine. I can't wait for it to get here. Just think how fabulous it will look with any of my blue nail polishes and my one pound missing.

Fabu.

Watching and Working

2011-08-08T16:48:00.000-07:00

Still here. Barely, but still here.

I have been working me arse off this past week -- literally, it turns out.

Along with my regular work, covering-for-my-boss-on-vacation work, freelance work, and parenting work, the newest thing to add to my list is Weight Watchers work.

The last 10 (OK, maybe closer to 15) baby pounds have overstayed their welcome, so I joined the online program and now am a point-counting machine. And, in the past week, thanks to the points-counting and six workouts, I lost -- wait for it -- one pound. Ta-daaaaa!

Meh.

But, one pound lost is better than one gained. But wow, did I miss my cheese/bread/wine dinners. Instead, it's all fruit, vegetables, more fruit, some lean protein and more stupid-ass fruit.

I was hungry pretty much all week. Such boring stuff, but man, I really want this to work. I have cute clothes in my closet that I'd really like to wear again.

Anyone out there have any WW experience or tips? Let me hear it.

Clearly, I Have An Addiction

2011-08-02T08:21:00.000-07:00

In times of stress, apparently I like to stock up on blue nail polish.

It could be worse. I could be a meth addict. Or a food addict. Or I could bite my nails instead of paint them.

My latest acquisition, from the hotel spa where I work:

OPI's Austin-tatious Turquoise, from the Texas Collection

In my own defense, I got a discount on it and I promise to only wear it on my feet, never ever my hands. That would be tacky.

AAAAGHGHHH!

2011-08-01T11:41:00.000-07:00

Crazy insane mental busy for the last week. It hasn't slowed down one bit since the last time I complained about it -- no, it has sped up. And will continue at hyperspeed for the next two weeks, due to an absence at work.

So, I've got nothing.

Except this, the thing that keeps giving me a little burst of happy everytime I look down at my hands,madly typing away.

That's right, yet another blue nail polish that I've added to my collection of blue nail polishes. Revlon's Blue Lagoon. It's really pretty. What am I, 12 years old? Nope.

Mind Wanderings

2011-07-25T13:12:00.000-07:00

* It has been One of Those Weeks. Work is wicked busy, everybody's going in different directions, one of my freelance jobs was finishing up, and so on and so forth, post hoc ergo propter hoc. (I have no idea what that means, but it used to make us roll in college. Use it randomly. And sparingly.)

* Per Wiki: Post hoc ergo propter hoc is Latin for "after this, therefore because of this," a logical fallacy (of the questionable cause variety) that states, "Since that event followed this one, that event must have been caused by this one." Ahhh.... yes, of course.

* Bless those who bring cupcakes into the office. Even if they are the healthy, made-with-apple-sauce spice kind. Next time, please bring something made with butterfatcreamsaucecheese.

* Butterfatcreamsaucecheese would be a good name for a cat.

* Still haven't put together the Adirondack chairs. But I have decided that because I am lazy, they will be one solid color rather than rainbow-painted, post hoc ergo propter hoc.

* I paid off my department store credit cards. Good job, awesome work. Now, on to the big guns... I'm talking to you, United Visa card and Capital One No Hassle card.

* Back in March, when I was feeling healthy, I signed up for a 4-mile run around a lake. Fast forward to now, when I am feeling about 92.5% back to normal after walking pneumonia. And the #*&#$* race is this Sunday. Feck. And, I just learned, it gains 500 feet of elevation in the final half-mile. What? That is just evil. And I apologize in advance to the two friends who signed up with me. A better plan would have been to meet for cocktails and brunch.

* A show of hands, please -- who is familiar with the band TV on the Radio? They are playing here tonight at my place of employment. Sound check starts in 2 hours.

Over and out. Happy weekend, all.

I Love the Random Stuff

2011-07-18T08:31:00.000-07:00

OK, what do these three things have in common?

1. A 300-lb. cylinder of Wisconsin cheddar
2. An appearance by Mariel Hemingway
3. A huge group of people doing the "Cha-Cha Slide"

Think about it... keep thinking...

Alright, I will give you one more hint, then I'm sure it will come to you:

4. People camped out in cars overnight

Is it obvious yet? No?

These are all ways people celebrated the opening of a huge new grocery store in a Portland suburb. Yes, that's right, a grocery store.

People lined up in the parking lot the night before this Fred Meyer's grand opening. Once inside, they were treated to a cheese sculpture of the store itself (carved from out-of-state cheese, no less), a special appearance by Ernest Hemingway's grand-daughter, a choregraphed cha-cha dance performance by the store's staff and more.

What. The Hell?

There was also free cake, free lottery tickets and free gift cards, so that's something, I guess. Still, it's a grocery store, people.

Don't believe me? Look here -- those people are cha-cha-sliding in the grocery store:

The interesting part about the store, which I'm not sure had anything to do with people being camped out overnight, is this:

"Fred Meyer officials said sustainable touches will be the most visible difference in the store. Solar panels are attached to the store's roof, which also features a skylight that self-adjusts to maximize energy efficiency. Employees will recycle and compost on-site, which [a spokesperson] described as a unique practice among the company's 131 stores in the Northwest."

Well done, Fred. Now please stop making your staff dance the cha cha.

Have a Seat

2011-07-14T06:11:00.000-07:00

I just ordered and received two Adirondack chairs from Home Depot. Just $30 a pop. After I get my good assembling friend Chris to put 'em together, I want to paint them.

My first impulse was to do a rainbow across the ribs in back. Man, I really love the thought of painting everything in rainbows. I do love me a good rainbow. But, in reality -- it would look tacky. Right? Circus. Silly. Or do I love it? Keep in mind our house is bright blueberry colored and our lawn is nothing to crow about.

So then I'm thinking, what about this? Still a little too much tacky-circus chic? A little too attention-drawing to our scrubby, unkempt lawn? And I'd have to order at least three more chairs for it to make any sense.

How about this? Chairs in one palette, like this blue-green trio?

Or maybe just all of 'em in one color, like these violet-blue ones?

Or this vacation-blue colored one?

Eventually, I'd love to have something like this, except with colored chairs.

Current Obsession

2011-07-13T08:23:00.000-07:00

My love of traveling, wanderlusting, hotel staying and solo-tripping is at a high. I am in dire need of a little break, having been sick since mid-May, working my full-time job, proofing two freelance projects, parenting two little men and all of that other junk that comes along with being a married adult-type person.

I'm tired. I need to catch my breath. Oh, and did I mention Jon and Finn are heading east without me in a couple weeks, to visit family? "I want to go to there." -- Liz Lemon. But I can't, due to time and budget constraints.

So I make do with non-stop web-surfing, looking for hotel deals, last-minute vacation rentals and more. I am obsessed.

While Jon is onboard with me getting away for a day or two, his schedule and mine don't match up at the moment. So I'm looking at mid- to late-August before I can enjoy some away-from-home me time (which will involve a comfy bed, some wine, a bunch of chick magazines and a DVD of the last Sex and The City movie).

Oh man, I cannot wait. Truly. In the meantime, I must be content with searching for the ultimate deal...

Wah, wah, whine, poor, poor me, pour me some wine.

It's Gotta Be the Shoes

2011-07-11T13:11:00.000-07:00

Wearing these today. They are not, how shall I say, comfortable. But they are pretty sweet-looking and they make me ultra-tall, which I like.

Just Look Relaxed

2011-07-08T15:06:00.000-07:00

This is me. Posing for a publicity shot for one of my company's spas. Don't I look relaxed? I was. I nearly fell asleep.

Sometimes my job requires me to do goofy stuff, like this. --->

Squatch Print

2011-07-08T08:12:00.000-07:00

I want this. Who would like to get it for me?

Wanderlust Magnified

2011-07-06T08:25:00.000-07:00

Let me just preface this by saying that I love my brother very, very much. I love all three of them, actually. All four of them, if you count that red-headed one that married into the family.

But when one of them sends me an email like this while I'm at work, slaving away in the heat and dust of my unventilated basement office for eight hours before picking up my overtired children, who will whine and fuss about being tired and not liking what's for dinner and hating bedtime, before I manage to choke down a glass of cheap chardonnay while watching bad reality TV and falling into a deep coma only to wake up at 5:45am and start it all over again, it sucks.

Oh, you know who you are, Brother. Enjoy your stupid awesome vacation, with your good wine and your sleeping in and all that other stuff. And if you happen to connect with that Other Brother who is also in Spain, send him my regards, dammit.

[Love you guys!]

**********
TITLE: a little help, please

no emergency.

We are having a fantastic time here in Madrid at the [exotic foreign country's] ambassador's residence. It's pretty nice. He and I met years ago when he was a diplomat for [exotic foreign country] and his mother needed stroke rehabilitation. His career has gone very well (!!) and we have remained friends. We are his guests here in Madrid.

We've seen a little bit of the Prado (HUGE and labyrinthine), the Plaza Major, Plaza del Sol, eaten some tapas, drank some Rioja, slept until noon 2 days. Its all very good.

I have been unable to contact [our other brother] here in Spain. I've tried calling [nephew's] cell phone, but did not connect.

Could you please call them on [nephew's] cell and tell them to check their email? I've left a couple messages, but gotten no response.

We are planning on taking the train tomorrow morning to barcelona and we need to arrange on how to meet up.

We will be staying at [fancy schmancy hotel], arriving tomorrow @ midday, and would love to spend some time with them.
*****************

Lions, Tigers, Bears, No Bigfoot

2011-07-05T08:16:00.000-07:00

Ian (a.k.a. Tank) has been waking up pretty regularly at 5:45am. Dammit. That moment when I am startled awake by his cries are a drag -- just want to snuggle back into my warm, soft, dark bed -- but once I'm up, it's fine. I actually enjoy those first couple hours with him, alone.

On Sunday, it was already a beautiful day at 6 a.m. So he and I packed it up and headed out into the wilds of Oregon for a little exploring. It soothes my rampant wanderlust just a little bit.

I had a vague destination in mind -- Estacada. It's a former logging town-turned-arts-community about 30 minutes southeast outside the city, as well as a Bigfoot-sighting hotspot there along the Clackamas River.

Estacada is also home to a mystical place called... The Safari Club.

As you can see, at first glance, it's nothing special. It's a dank, small-town bar that doubles as a Chinese restaurant and big-game taxidermy outpost.

Yes, that's right -- a bar/Chinese restaurant/big-game taxidermy outpost. What? You don't have one of those in your city? Weird.

Here's the summary from the bar itself:

****
"The Safari Club was designed and constructed by Jorgans Construction Company in 1970.

We hope that you enjoy your visit in this unique club and further hope that you, your family and friends return time and time again. This is the only one of its type in the world today. It is owned by Park Enterprises and is managed by Mike Park.

This collection of outstanding trophies in this club was taken on 23 different hunting expeditions to six different countries through the world over a period of six years. The majority of trophies taken by world-renowned big game hunter Glen Park have now been entered in the World Record Books. Glen Park is the most active and outstanding hunter in the United States today.

It was Glen Park's idea to share these outstanding, beautiful trophies with the local citizenry by building a unique safari club."
****

What's even weirder, from what I can remember from my one trip there about 10 years ago (since Ian and I didn't actually go inside, due to the fact that it was 6:30 a.m.), all the animals -- tigers, polar bears, lions, but not Squatch -- are arranged in bloody fights against one another for all eternity.

So think about making a visit to Estacada, Ore.'s Safari Club, where you can enjoy a scene of exotic animals engaged in a vicious brawl while you sip a cold Pabst and a mow through a plate of chow mein noodles before heading out for some Bigfootin'.

I couldn't make this stuff up if I tried.

Mind Wanderings

2011-06-30T08:32:00.000-07:00

* Still have walking pneumonia. Sure, I can walk, but all the rest of it is really taking its toll on me. The constant choking, spastic coughing -- I keep expecting to come out of a fit with blood-red eyeballs full of burst veins. So gross. I am over it and tired of it.

* Why is Shia LeBoeuf considered interesting? I don't understand that. He looks like a tiny mad little person.

* I'm working on two freelance proofreading jobs at the same time, in my off-hours from work, in between coughing fits. One is about early childhood education. And the other is about sex. You can probably guess which one is more interesting. I am learning some crazy stuff. You know, about education.

* COUgh CouGH [gasp wheeeze] COuGH.

* My most excellent in-laws are coming out in October to visit the boys and to mind them while Jon and I get away for awhile for Jon's 40th. The plan is to rent a huge house at the coast with our friends (one of whom turned 40 this week) for a few days and invite people out for a night or two for food, drinks, hot tubbing, book-reading, beach-strolling, bonfires, food and drinks. If any of you consider yourselves excellent vacation planners, find us a phat rental house (northern Oregon coast) and send me a link. Must have at least 4 bedrooms, a hot tub and beach front access.

* Holy cow, my husband will be turning 40. I remember when each of my brothers turned 40 and I thought to myself, "Man, they are old." (No offense, guys.) Strangely, it didn't affect me this way when my sister hit 40. She's still about 22 in my head.

* Got sucked into the latest edition of MTV's reality show "The Challenge." I stare at it during those 4 a.m. snuggle/feeds with the baby. But so pathetic to see these people who are my age and older going 'round the horn yet again, competing against other reality "stars" who are barely legal. If I have anything nice to say, it's that I admire their ambition to milk that 15 minutes of fame while they can. What the hell.

* Some sleep would be nice right now.

* Thinking of taking the boys to the Seaside Aquarium tomorrow, about an hour's drive from Portland. It's been there for more than 70 years, and the stars of the show are the seals, who live in an open tank right at the entrance to the aquarium. You can buy fish bits to throw to the seals. These seals are no dummies. They know why you're there -- and if you don't pony up with the fish bits quick enough, they will splash water all over you, stinky, smelly, fishy water. They also bark in tandem, clap with their fins and do a variety of other tricks, all to get the stupid humans to hand over the goods. Note to self: Bring an umbrella.

* COUgh CouGH [gasp wheeeze] COuGH.

Oh Fer Feck's Sake...

2011-06-28T08:17:00.000-07:00

Great news, everyone! [sarcasm mine]

One of my least favorite books is being made into what will surely be a ridiculously terrible movie.

"What to Expect When You're Expecting," starring Jennifer Lopez and Cameron Diaz.

Here's a synopsis:

****
"The film is billed as 'an ensemble romantic-comedy is in the vein of LOVE ACTUALLY and VALENTINE’S DAY. The film is a modern look at love through the eyes of four interconnected couples experiencing the thrills and surprises of having a baby, and ultimately coming to understand the universal truth that no matter what you plan for, life doesn’t always deliver what’s expected.'"
****

A preachy book portrayed on film by screechy women. Nothing good can come out of this.

HACK! COUGH! GACKGACKGACK! WHEEEEZE.

2011-06-27T08:02:00.000-07:00

I developed a little cough last week. It deepened on Thursday. On Friday, it sounded pretty awful. And over the weekend, I nearly shook the house down with paroxysms of spasmic coughing, the kind in which you couldn't stop if your life depended on it and which results in globules of bright yellow goop flying out your mouth if you aren't careful to keep your mouth closed.

The weird thing is that I still felt perfectly fine. But, because I was keeping myself and my husband up at night with the full-body death rattling coughs, I went to the doctor.

Walking pneumonia.

What the...? What year is this, 1842? And what age am I again -- 97 years old?

Basically, it's mild, early-onset pneumonia in which the afflicted person (that's me!) can still function. We even went hiking yesterday morning in the gorge, and I had my 25-pound baby strapped to my back throughout the 3-mile upward and downward trudge. [Side note: Didn't see any Squatch. I probably sounded like one, though, coughing and howling and wheezing the whole time.]

I got a prescription for some antibiotics and should be good to go by the weekend.

DOC: It's walking pneumonia.
ME: What??! ... Hey, does that mean I should stay home from work?
DOC: No, not really. It's not that contagious, so just cover your mouth and wash your hands a lot.
ME: But do I have to go to work?
DOC: Well, that depends on whether or not you want to go to work.
ME: How about the gym?
DOC: No problems there, either. Go as much as you feel like.
ME: Hmmm.... but maybe I should stay home from both work and the gym?
DOC: Nope, you're good to go!
ME: [grumble grumble] HACK! COUGH! GACKGACKGACK! WHEEEEZE.

A Ticket to Ride

2011-06-24T08:52:00.000-07:00

I cleaned out a kitchen cupboard this past weekend – I know, I thought it was weird that I was cleaning, too – and found a big pile of old tickets: concerts, sports, plays.

And so Jon and I took a stroll down memory lane, remembering shows and songs and incidents and pre-funks in parking lots. We didn’t meet ‘til 1991, though, so all shows prior to that were solo memory-lane strolls (although we did realize that we both attended the ‘87 Monsters of Rock Tour in Buffalo, NY.)

I stopped collecting tickets in… looks like… 2002. Too cool for school at that point, I guess.

*********
8/12/87 * Billy Idol (Shoreline Amphitheater, Mountain View, CA) * $17.50 * First show, first time I smelled pot.
10/7/87 * U2/Little Steven (Buffalo Memorial Auditorium, Buffalo, NY) * $17.50 * Fell in love with Bono. Just ended my 24-year love affair this year.

6/18/88 * Van Halen’s Monsters of Rock (Rich Stadium, Orchard Park, NY) * $25.00 * A bunch of teenagers rented a bus and a keg and we drank the entire way to Buffalo. And back. And during. Ugly stuff.

4/15/90 * Celtics v. Knicks (Boston Garden) * $19 * Patrick Ewing slammed a ball down so hard, it bounced way up into the cheap seats.

3/19/91 * REO Speedwagon (St. Bonaventure University’s Reilly Center, Allegany, NY) * $8.00 * Fell asleep.
8/9/91 * The Lollapalooza Festival (Great Woods Performing Arts Center, Mansfield, MA) * $21.00
11/3/91 * C&C Music Factory/Rhythm Syndicate (SUNY Fredonia, Fredonia, NY) * $5.00 * Can’t believe I paid five bucks for that.
11/9/91 * De La Soul (MacPhie Pub, Tufts University, Medford, MA) * $xx?

8/7/92 * Lollapalooza ’92 (Great Woods Performing Arts Center, Mansfield, MA) * $25.00
8/13/92 * Live/Wire Train (The Paradise, Boston, MA) * $8.50 * My sister made out with an Irish guy she met there.
11/21/92 * Seattle Supersonics v. Detroit Pistons (Seattle Coliseum) * $30.00

7/17/93 * Phish (Wolf Trap, Vienna, Va.) * $15
8/18/93 * Blind Melon (Blind Melon’s, Buffalo, NY) * $5.00 * Yes, the club was actually called Blind Melon’s.
11/4/93 * Jerry Garcia Band (War Memorial, Rochester, NY) * $22.50 * Fell asleep.

1/16/94 * Rochester Amerks v. Binghamton Rangers (War Memorial Stadium, Rochester, NY) * $12.00 * My 21st birthday. No one carded me and I was irritated.
2/20/94 * Blind Melon (Kuhl Gymnasium, Geneseo, NY) * $15.00
4/10/94 * Phish (Alumni Arena, SUNY Buffalo) * $10.00
6/26/94 * Jazz and Blues Festival (Wolf Trap, Vienna, VA) * Free
7/9/94 * Pink Floyd (RFK Stadium, Washington, DC) * $32.50 * So high that I had to clap rhythmically the entire show to keep from freaking out.
7/17/94 * Grateful Dead/Traffic (RFK Stadium, Washington, DC) * $31.50 * Ditto.
8/1/94 * The Rolling Stones (RFK Stadium, Washington, DC) * $25.00 * Fun.

3/15/95 * The Black Crowes (Shea’s Performing Arts Centre, Buffalo, NY) * $24.00
5/3/95 * Blues Traveler (St. Bonaventure University Reilly Center, Allegany, NY) * $4.00 * Four bucks? Deal.
8/6/95 * The Allman Brothers Band/Rusted Root (Finger Lakes Performing Arts Center) * $35.50 * Loads of twirly girls.
10/9/95 * Blues Traveler (HFSticle Harvest Ball, Nissan Pavilion, Bristow, VA) * $xx?

1/31/96 * West Virginia Mountaineers v. Georgetown Hoyas (USAir Arena, Washington, DC) * $15.00
4/7/96 * Foo Fighters (UMBC Fieldhouse, Catonsville, MD) * $15.00 * Jon bought a glow-in-the-dark Foo t-shirt that still glows. Score.
4/26/96 * Baltimore Orioles v. Texas Rangers (Camden Yards, Baltimore, MD) * $12.00
5/5/96 * Baltimore Orioles v. Milwaukee Brewers (Camden Yards, Baltimore, MD) * $9.00
5/22/96 * Baltimore Orioles v. California Angels (Camden Yards, Baltimore, MD) * $9.00
6/2/96 * The Allman Brothers (Darien Lake, NY) * $17.50 * One of the most fun shows I can remember.
7/3/96 * Sting (Nissan Pavilion, Bristow, VA) * $19.75 * Terrible show, but my sister and I had a blast.
8/31/96 * Dave Matthews Band (Nissan Pavilion, Bristow, VA) * $20.00 * Got peed on by drunk guy, so my buddy knocked him in the face, started mass melée, I lost my shoe in the scuffle.
11/2/96 * Notre Dame v. Navy (Croke Park, Dublin, IRL) * £8.00 * Really, really fun day with my flatmate Jennifer and some American med students visiting from Waterford.

2/19/97 * “Waiting for Godot” (Gate Theatre, Dublin, IRL) * £14.00 * Sat across the aisle from actor Ben Kingsley.
4/12/97 * Wilco (Whelan’s, Dublin, Ireland) * £7.50 * Almost missed the show. They went on stage at exactly 8 p.m. Weird.
5/3/97 * Beck/The Sea Horses (Dublin Castle) * £16.50 * It was in city centre, so the sound was strangely low.
6/13/97 * Phish * (SFX Centre, Dublin, Ireland) * £13.50 * Went by myself and it kicked arse.
8/25/97 * The Allman Brothers Band/Mark May & The Agitators (NY State Fair) * $24.00 * Back in the USA! Reunited with Jon.
9/15/97 * Sloan (Milestone’s, Rochester, NY) * $10.00

1/19/98 * Chef Rick Bayless (Geva Theatre, Rochester, NY) * $35.00
5/14/98 * Gov’t Mule (Water Street Music Hall, Rochester, NY) * $12.50 * Fell asleep.
5/18/98 * Kenny Wayne Shepard (Milestone’s, Rochester, NY) * $15.00
8/1/98 * The Allman Brothers Band (Darien Lake, NY) * $27.50

3/5/01 * Jeff Tweedy/Scott McCaughey (Aladdin Theater, Portland, OR) * $16.50 * Just a short walk from our house.
9/3/01 * The Dickey Betts Band (Aladdin Theater, Portland, OR) * $23.50 * 9/11 happened just 8 days later, and my mom died after a long illness 10 days after that. Weird to think of it in that context.
10/20/01 * Portland Winter Hawks v. Seattle Thunderbirds (Rose Garden, Portland, OR) * $13.50
11/10/01 * Gregg Allman & Friends (Roseland Theater, Portland, OR) * $30.00 * Wore red lipstick in public for first time. Tried to make eyes at Gregg.

3/4/02 * Portland Trailblazers v. Sacramento Kings (Rose Garden, Portland, OR) * $127.00 * Given a ticken by a friend who was dating the coach at the time, Mo Cheeks.
4/4/02 * Ratdog (Roseland Theater, Portland, OR) * $31.00 * Don’t remember this show, who this band is, nothing at all. Something to do with the Dead. So I probably fell asleep.

File This Under "Random"

2011-06-23T08:01:00.000-07:00

My sister and her husband had a rare date night recently, away from their three little girls. There is a drive-in in their area, one that has been a go-to spot for going on 41 years. Its website claims it has the largest drive-in theater screen in the entire state of New York.

Here's an image from their website that shows absolutely no perspective nor anything interesting about it at all.

So, off they went to the drive-in, on a quiet Tuesday night. They were the only car there. Naturally, they pulled up front and center to the screen and settled in to watch Super 8. I imagine there were fries and beers involved. And some snuggling of some sort. (I'm just guessing, but that's what I'd do if I had a night off with my husband away from the kids -- beer, fries and snuggling.)

Moments into the film, another car pulls into the 22-acre site. And parks right. Next. To them.

Whhaaat....? Violation! [whoop, whoop] Alarm bells! Indignation! That's not cool, yo!

Seriously, who does that? Who goes to a deserted drive-in, known to be one of the best make-out spots in the entire state of New York, and parks right next to the only other car there?

Rude. R-u-d-e.

And here's the random part -- the other couple had a baby deer with them. What the %#$@^ is this, The Yearling? Seriously, c'mon.

A baby deer. In their car with them.

So much for date night, although I bet the fries were good. And they got a good story out of it, which is always important.

Pin Me

2011-06-21T08:37:00.000-07:00

Here are a few of my latest pins on Pinterest, which is a seriously addictive virtual inspiration board site. You can "repin" images you find online -- in my case, I have boards set up for colors, places, stuff for the home and products I like.

Think of it as an online folder into which you can stuff pages you've ripped out of magazines.

San Pancho, Nayarit, Mexico

A nice room with beautiful colors and styling

Artwork that I'd love to have

Colors that make me happy -- powdered paint from Venice

Kenmare, Ireland -- a place I'd like to visit again

A beautiful table in a beautiful room

Feeling a Wave Coming On...

2011-06-20T08:21:00.000-07:00

Lately I was feeling down, blue, tired, overworked. Grumpy. So boring.

And suddenly, it was gone. In a poof, I was back in the game and feeling happy and positive. (I'm blaming hormones for the mood swinginess.)

And now, I am feeling a huge wave of creativity coming at me. I love when this happens. I'm not one of those people who surf a creative wave all the time, like my sister does -- she has three kids, a job, bills, obligations, etc. etc., and still manages to paint, plan parties, make new music mixes, cook stuff, can stuff, craft stuff. Not me.

Here are the projects I have in mind for myself in the coming weeks -- excuse the wonky spacing. I can't find the HTML that is screwing it all up:

* Paint this watercolor graph. I can do it, and if I do it well, I will frame it and love it, for ever and ever.

* Make a blog post book. The plan is to pull out some of my favorite Finn and Ian posts and use one of those blog-2-print services for a book for my family. Anyone have any experience with these services?

* Salsa. The food, not the dance. I make a mean salsa, when I get the urge to make it, which is never. Can you freeze salsa? I don't know. Maybe I should do spaghetti sauce instead.

* Paint another room. Finn's room is currently brilliant stop sign red. (He'd call it Phillies red.) It took five coats to get it right. And now I want it to be white. Which will probably take 56 coats. This one is not high on my list.

* Rainbow pedicure. I've done this before, in pastel-sherbet colors, and it made me happy every single time I looked at my toes. Gay pride toes. I love my big gay feet. (Note: After Googling images of rainbow pedicures, I realize my feet are not as bad as I thought. There are some seriously creepy feet out there.)

The one thing stopping me from this mad creative flood is my current freelance proofreading project. It's an interesting title (about early childhood education) that was well-written and carefully edited, but I still have to devote after-hours time for it. Which leaves little time for anything fun and creative.

Still, I am keeping the bluesy doldrums at bay.

Update on Bigfoot's Oregon TV Appearance

2011-06-17T08:59:00.000-07:00

You may remember the post below, written a few months back. My friend's brother Brady had an actual, unexplainable Bigfoot-type experience not too far outside Portland. The end result was that he and his buddies were asked to reenact the event for an Animal Planet show called "Finding Bigfoot." That's a press photo of the show's Bigfoot Field Researchers Organization (BFRO) there to the left.

The episode airs this Sunday, June 19, 10 p.m. ET/7 p.m. PST, called "Fishing For Bigfoot in Oregon." It includes Brady's story as well as another one about some guys who may have filmed three Bigfeet while rafting.

Below is the original post. You can tell from the copious amount of exclamation points and cuss words I used how excited I was about it.
***************************
Tuesday, March 15

2 Degrees of Separation From Bigfoot!

BREAKING NEWS! This just in:

My friend Liz (yes, yes, the photographer Liz)'s brother and his buddies had an actual Bigfoot experience here in Oregon three weeks ago! Complete with thrown rocks, whacked trees, reflective eyes standing at 8 feet tall and a follow-up plaster foot cast!

Holy *&#%$>*.

They were fishing near Sandy and Welches (about half an hour outside Portland) toward dusk when a rock hit the ground on the bank near them. Weird. Then, they heard an unearthly howl of some sort. Really weird. Another rock hit nearby. And then three hugely loud whacks against a tree on the opposite river bank.

When they turned their flashlights across the bank, they saw big, red-reflecting eyes staring back at them, about five feet off the ground. Then the eyes, never turning from them, got lower and went behind a tree. And then the eyes rose to eight feet and began to walk up the opposite bank toward them, never leaving their sight, 'til it was about 20 feet away across the river.

Holy. *&#%$>*.

Then, the thing turned and went up and over the bank, out of sight.

The guys called the Bigfoot Reporting Center (yes, there is one; this is Oregon) to record their sighting. They went back to the river the next day with a friend who is interested in Bigfoot sightings, crossing the river to the spot on the opposite bank where they'd seen the animal. They even found the spot where the thing had crouched down low, watching them from its vantage point -- and they found a huge, deep footprint, the foot on which it had been resting all its weight as it bent down to watch them! [shiver]

I saw a photo of the plaster cast they made -- it was just massive, laying next to a dollar bill for perspective.

Since then, the guys have been to a meeting at a Bigfoot bar outside Eugene (yes, there is one; this is Oregon) to talk with other people who have had similar experiences. And they have even been taped for an upcoming show on Animal Planet, including a full reenactment of their experience. I'll keep you posted on when the show will air.

Sound like an elaborate hoax? Maybe. I don't think so, though.

1) I believe the story, because I want to. Bigfoot is real, y'all.
2) I need to get to that Bigfoot bar, for sure. I see another girls' night out in my future.
3) I will never, ever go camping in Oregon ever again. Not that I was planning to, either.

Summertime Blues

2011-06-15T08:18:00.000-07:00

It's true. I've got the summertime blues, and it's the first day of Finn's summer vacation. I need a serious attitude adjustment, because I don't want my black mood to color what should be a happy-go-lucky time for my child.

It would help if I had the summer off (like last year, thanks to Baby Ian) but I have to work, dammit. And that is making me panicky about ensuring every single weekend is jam-packed with fun stuff.

Here's what I wrote up last spring, looking ahead to a summer off with my boys, followed by my comments for this summer:

* Picnics in parks. I see myself and the boy(s) enjoying the sunshine, the fresh air, a basket full of food for Finn and me, a bottle for New Guy...
I don't think we actually went on any picnics last summer. But I guess I'm up for it again. However, in my current whiny mood, all can think about is how you have to shop for all the food, then find a good picnic spot, watch out for bees and ants and mosquitos, clean up the mess afterwards, whine whine whine...

* Daytrips. We'll just get in the car and go. To Mount Hood. To the Pacific. To Mount St. Helens. Wherever.
We did do a lot of trips last summer, so that will definitely be on the docket again this year.

* Weekend trips. West to the ocean. East to the Gorge and beyond. Up north to the Olympic Peninsula. Down south to... whatever is down there. I'm a pro at finding super-cheap yet palatable hotel deals.
Time and cash will most likely prevent much of this in 2011. But we are planning another trip up to the Olympic Peninsula later this summer, to see family.

* Outdoor fountains. There are tons of huge fountains in Portland, in which cooling off is encouraged and expected. They are always crazy-busy on weekends, but midweek? Just me and the other parents and kids. That's fine.
See "crazy-busy on weekends" bit. Will axe this one for 2011.

* Museums. Strap Ian into the Bjorn and go check out the art museum. I haven't been there in 10 years. Or the Japanese Gardens. Or even the Rose Garden (the actual rose garden, not the Blazers' venue).
Ditto on "crazy-weekends" bit.

* Baseball games. There is a great outdoor baseball stadium downtown where the Portland Beavers play. Games are cheap, the beer is not, and it's a good time for everyone involved. And, sadly, this is the last summer the Beavers will play there. Stupid soccer is coming to town -- and I'm not sure where the new baseball stadium will be for the 2011 season. So 'til then, we're loyal supporters.
Baseball is gone for good in Portland. Very sad, although the MLS Timbers team is supposedly pretty fun to watch. Too bad Jon boycotts them because he's holding a grudge about baseball.

* Hiking. Sure, it'll be short hikes with the New Guy in tow, but it still counts. There is nothing else in the world like the smell of a Pacific NW forest in the middle of summer. It actually smells sweet. And, of course, there is the added benefit of looking out for Bigfoot.
Definitely more hiking this summer. I even bought a new kid carrier thing that is more comfortable for long walks or hikes.

* Movies. My company does a thing called Mommy Matinees, midweek afternoon screenings of PG and R-rated movies where no one cares if your kid fusses the entire time, because it's mostly parents and their babies anyway! Brilliant. And you can drink a beer and eat pizza.
For some reason, I did exactly none of this with Ian last summer. Probably will continue in this same vein for '11.

* Running. I am sincerely looking forward to starting up a regimen again. I have registered for a jogging stroller, so if all goes according to plan, I'll throw New Guy into the stroller and we'll head out. We might just be walking for the first couple months, but that's cool. It's a start.
I was so excited about that damn jogging stroller, until I took it out on the road for a spin and realized it was built for a much shorter person. I couldn't run comfortably without kicking and tripping on the back of it. Like I need any additional incentive to trip and fall. However, I'm back into my running regiment (sans stroller or baby) and have signed up for a 4-miler in late July with some friends.

* Margaritas. And pinot gris. And IPAs. I'd be remiss in not admitting that I am really, really looking forward to a drink or four with friends on those warm summer nights. I had a sip of Jon's margarita the other night, and ohmyGod was it heavenly. Bring it on.
Turns out margaritas make my throat hurt, but all that other stuff sounds good. I could use something right this instant, actually.

OK, now feeling a bit more optimistic about summer. Finn deserves to have a fun one, so off we go...

Trashy Driveway Parties

2011-06-14T08:49:00.000-07:00

This past weekend, Jon and I co-hosted a school fundraising event with three other couples at one family's beautiful, historic home in a nearby neighborhood. It's a magazine-ready house, with lots of original woodwork and fixtures, huge windows, and a ballroom on the third floor. Pretty sweet.

The party went well -- Jon did the menu (SE Asian-inspired, with salad rolls, papaya salad, claypot chicken, beef skewers, lamb skewers, halibut skewers, Thai beef salad, Korean short ribs, peanut noodles and a bunch more stuff I can't remember), while another friend tended bar serving an assortment of cocktails, wine and beer.

After the dinner, everyone went upstairs to the ballroom-turned-dancehall for some more cocktails and some music. People got pretty loaded, but not in an ugly way (that I witnessed, anyway.) And because we're all parents, the evening wrapped up fairly quickly and we were home by midnight.

Now for the trashy driveway party bit.

The keg, which was generously donated by my employer, was a microbrew called Hug Dance Pale Ale. But when you have a bartender mixing up specialty cocktails (Blood Orange Whiskey Sour or Coconut Lime Rickey, anyone?), the beer gets pushed to the wayside fairly quickly.

No problem. We like beer. So Jon and I took the two-thirds-full keg home with us and stashed it under the front stairs. We figured if we kept it on ice, it would last a few days. Free beer, whooo-hooo!

The first night, we had our friends Bryan and Chris over and then invited our next door neighbors over. And the six of us, plus Ian in his high chair, stood in the driveway, in the rain, next to the garbage and recycling bins, doing our best to bring the two-thirds-full keg to maybe one-half-full. It was a good effort, and one of those random Sunday nights, standing around talking in the rain, that makes for a happy memory.

The next night, after Finn's final baseball game of the season, we invited some other friends and their kids over for another couple driveway beers. We classed it up this time by sitting in chairs in the driveway around the keg, rather than just standing. And there was no rain, but there were seven little boys racing like wild men around the yard, playing hide and seek. Good stuff.

Alas, we're not the keg-killers we once were -- there is still a ton of beer left. But that pale ale defiitely helped kick the summer off nicely -- I'm looking forward to more similar get-togethers this season, both fancy house parties as well as trashy driveway parties.

RIP, Hug Dance Pale Ale. We'll remember you fondly.

What's Your Weird Thing?

2011-06-13T08:28:00.000-07:00

Everyone has a weird thing or situation that makes their hair stand on end, makes them physically ill or gives them the shivers.

My weird thing is a cluster [gag!] of tiny little things [ack!] all together [blech!]. My upper lip is curling in disgust just writing that.

Examples? Here we go.

Poppy seeds.

Soap suds.
Fly eyes.

Honeycomb.

Heads of roasted garlic.

My entire face is collapsing into itself right now. These images really bother me, especially the last two. So gross, and I can't explain why. I just came across another one -- the insides of peppers, with all those little seeds embedded in the sides. Nasty.

I found a blog post on Nothing But Bonfires about other people's weird peccadillos. It's fascinating stuff. The post was about the writer's intense dislike of wooden spoons. Just like this one:
She can't stand them, especially the way they feel on your skin and against your teeth. So then other people chimed in with the other seemingly innocuous stuff that makes their skin crawl. Stuff like (and I am not making any of this up):

* Cellophane. (The person wrote: "Gift baskets send me running and screaming from the room. Which is not the proper response to receiving a gift basket, at all.")

* Chenille blankets. ("They feel like duck fat.")

* Velvet. ("I am wary of the fabrics I touch while shopping just in case it is velvet.")

* Terracotta. ("I thought I was going to hurl right there in the craft store from all of the terracotta touching that was going on.")

* Looking at the insides of wrists and elbows because of the veins.

* The sound of paper being cut with scissors on TV. ("Sounds perfectly fine in person, though.")

* Cotton. ("Cotton balls. Cotton swabs. Cotton towels. Just -- no. The fabric of our lives, my ass.")

* Kites at the beach. ("They're pretty, but I don't like walking under them.")

* Large fish in a tank at home. ("It's the ones that are the size of a woman's hand or larger, in a tank, swimming around, looking at you.")

I love this stuff. People are so, so very weird, present company included.

So, give it up -- what makes your spine shrivel up, your face contort, your insides twist, your teeth ring? I want to know about it.

Mind/Body Connection

2011-06-10T12:58:00.000-07:00

MIND: Hey, do you think we’re looking… kind of old these days? Like, you know, old?
BODY: Yes.
MIND: [pause] "Yes?" What do you mean, "yes?"
BODY: I mean yes, I think we are looking old. Because that’s what’s happening.
MIND: Well, jeez, don’t bother sugarcoating it or anything.
BODY: No. I’m not.
MIND: Yeah, I know. I was being sarcastic.
BODY: The fact of it is that I am aging, just like we are supposed to. What’s the big deal?
MIND: I don’t know, it’s just like, you know, our mortality is staring us in the face – the face with the wrinkles and the droopiness and the gray hair and stuff. And the spots on the hands, what the hell is that about…?
BODY: Who cares?
MIND: Me! I do! I care! And you should, too!
BODY: As long as we eat right, exercise, do crosswords, yadda yadda, what's the big deal? You can’t stop this train, man.
MIND: Yeah, but I don’t feel as old as I think you look.
BODY: Is that a shot? Are you taking a shot at me with that?
MIND: Yes.
BODY: Touché. And so here’s another wrinkle for you – BAM!
MIND: Aw, c’mon, really? That’s childish.
BODY: No, actually, it’s not. You ever seen a wrinkly child? I didn’t think so.

Part VI: I Am Never Flying With This Kid Again

2011-06-10T05:52:00.000-07:00

On Wednesday morning, we packed it up and headed to the Boston airport. There were reports of severe thunderstorms in the area, so we expected delays.

By the time we got to the airport, the light outside was green. Green light = tornado weather.

But the airline had already rerouted us on a different airline and, bonus!, it was a direct flight that got us into Portland more than an hour earlier than planned. Score.

So they loaded us up onto the plane. The kids were fed, watered, and ready to go. We packed ourselves into our seats and the pilot pulled away from the gate.

We were off! Headed back home!

And then we sat. And sat. And sat.

I watched the green sky turn greener. I saw lightning bolts flash in the sky. The plane powered down, along with the air conditioning. And thus, the baby powered up.

No. Please, not the screaming. Seriously, baby, please please please not the screaming. But he was just gettin' started, the little scamp.

Two hours later, we were still sitting on the tarmac. And our sweet, fussy, sweaty, overtired, squirmy boy was still crying and kicking and futzing around. No amount of snacks, books, bouncing, bottle, peekaboo and what-have-you made any difference.

It was a true delight, for everyone involved. ["Was that sarcasm, Mommy?" -- "Yes, honey, it was."]

Finally, the plane got off the ground. I didn't care about the storms or the turbulence or the weird green light. I just wanted our baby to fall asleep.

And suddenly, he did. Out like a light, mouth open, cradled in my arms.

I was so relieved that I burst into tears. Seriously. I did. Unfortunately, I cried on his face by accident -- and he woke up with a start. Nope, not kidding. One of my top-10 most stressful parenting moments ever.

Luckily, he drifted right back into a heavy slumber. I stopped crying and concentrated on not moving my arms one iota. I was cradling 22 hot pounds of ticking time bomb in my arms -- which is, coincidentally, not the best metaphor to use while on a crowded airplane -- and I was convinced that the tiniest movement would start him crying again.

And then, the poor kid slept for the next four hours straight, through major turbulence, loud pilot announcements, and Jon carefully helping me gulp in one big swallow a plastic cup of warm cheap wine.

Now, if the baby had said to me, "I'm going to sleep for the next four hours," I could have just relaxed and enjoyed having a sleeping baby in my arms. But he neglected to tell me that. So I was on Level 9 alert, arms cramped, every sense tuned into that child, for 240 minutes without pause.

It was exhausting. I wanted to cry some more, but was afraid I'd splash him awake again. Jon was all, "Just relax, everything's fine." Says he, while enjoying a beer and watching TV and reading a magazine.

Finally, finally, finally, the plane touched down in Portland. And Ian immediately awoke, refreshed and happy as a clam, making googly eyes at people around us and clapping for the flight attendants. I practically tossed him at Jon so I could un-cramp my arms and try to lower my stress level through calm-blue-ocean breathing.

The calming mantra that I repeated again and again?: "That's it. Never again. I am never flying with this kid again."

(Unless, of course, an opportunity presents itself....)

Part V: Vacation Photos

2011-06-09T04:13:00.000-07:00

The guys in their wedding finery, at the Bethel Inn in Maine.

Our tiny banker hanging out on the lawn before the ceremony. Shoes are for dopes.

Amy, FIL (a.k.a. my father-law) and the bridal party in the Bethel Inn gazebo. I am not a good photographer.

The handsome ring bearer. He took it all very seriously, and only picked his nose once.

Proud Mommy.

We made it! Hyannis, MA, on Cape Cod.

The guys in the pool. Somebody -- make that two somebodies -- need a haircut.

Always happy, even when Mommy makes him wear a dumb hat.

Vacation smiles.

The Kennedy Compound, as seen from our beach.

Sea kayaking, during which Finn talked non-stop about sharks.

Finn and his cousin Quinn. Both of them talking about sharks.

This is how you do a beach set-up, thanks to Jon's cousins and family. You can't see the Cape Cods in red plastic Solo cups, but they're there.

It was a great trip. Getting home? -- that was another story. It was, how shall I say?, sucky.

Tomorrow, Part VI: I Am Never Flying With This Kid Again.

Contest: Win a Trip to Paris

2011-06-08T11:03:00.000-07:00

Have a look at this contest from the fabulous blog Oh Happy Day! by Jordan Ferney -- you could win a 7-day trip for two to Paris. Enter here:

http://ohhappyday.com/2011/06/goes-to-paris/

What's not to like about that?

Part IV: Cape Cods in Cape Cod

2011-06-08T06:22:00.000-07:00

You know what tastes really, really great? A vodka-cranberry cocktail in a red Solo plastic cup, best enjoyed while standing knee-deep in the Atlantic watching the Martha's Vineyard ferry chug by.

I highly recommend it.

You know what else tastes really great? Dunkin' Donuts coffee at 6 a.m., especially when you've been up since 5 a.m. with your jetlaggy baby and had to whisk him out of the house so as not to wake up the other occupants.

Ian and I did a few early-morning drives around the Cape, due to his wakefulness. First, we'd camp out in the parking lot of the Dunkin' Donuts at the corner of Sea and Main Streets, along with the flower sellers, fishermen and other early birds. By 6:07 a.m., we'd be out the door with our coffee and a Munchkin for the munchkin.

And then we'd be off.

As I've said, I like a good roadtrip. Ian and I explored several little sleepy towns and neighborhoods on our early-morning jaunts. We stopped by the JFK Memorial. We went down to the Hyannis harbor to see the boats going out. We ventured further east along the Cape on Rte 6, nearly to Provincetown way out on the point.

And finally back to the Breakwaters by 8 a.m., when at least one or two people were finally awake. Slackers.

After that, it was a question of whether or not to head down to the beach for the day with our cousins, or into town for some shopping, or out on an excursion.

Those are the three most important questions of any good vacation, really -- best pondered with a Cape-Cod-in-a-Red-Plastic-Cup Cocktail. It being 8 a.m. on a vacation day, after all.

Next up, Part V: Vacation Photos.

Part III: Hello, Cape Cod!

2011-06-06T08:22:00.000-07:00

One of the best parts of being in New England is the accent. I just love it. And when you're driving east on Rte 6, out onto Cape Cod, it is nearly impossible not to shout out the names of the towns you pass, in your best (worst) fake New England accent.

"BAHHHN-stuh-bul!" [Barnstable]

"MAWWWSH-pea!" [Marshpea]

"YAHHHHH-mith!" [Yarmouth]

Let me back up west on Rte 6 for a second -- when passing signs for Plymouth (which is not a very fun town to say in your fake NE accent), I explained its historical significance to my 7-year-old child thusly:

"...and so then the pilgrims from England arrived there, in that very spot, in three ships named the Nina, the Pinta and the Santa Maria --.... hang on, that's not right, is it?"

Oops. Give me an F for American history on that one. I was clearly channeling Sarah Palin and will require an exorcism. Luckily, Jon was able to clear it all up for Finn, who had given up on the story miles earlier.

Anyway.

We headed into Hyannis and arrived at The Breakwaters. This was the view, 20 steps from our front door.

That was looking east (we were on the south side of the Cape). And looking west on our beach, we saw this:

The Kennedy Compound, arguably the 2nd-most famous home in America (trailing the White House) was only about that far up the beach from our place, although this picture (not one of mine, but found online) was taken from the water. Pretty cool.

Next up: Part IV: Cape Cods in Cape Cod

Part II: Roadtrip

2011-06-06T08:19:00.000-07:00

After the wedding in Maine, we headed back down into New England proper toward Cape Cod, where we had rented a place for a few days.

I love me a good roadtrip. Our rental car was excellent -- a Jeep Grand Cherokee, totally tricked out with all the latest gadgets. For example, the car was able to tell when it began to rain and the windshield wipers would automatically turn on! Whhaat??? Ditto with the headlights. Pretty fun. Pretty much way-out-of-our-budget, but pretty fun.

What made the roadtrip less fun were the maniacal drivers. Seriously, people of New England, you drive mad and bad. Crossing over three lanes of busy holiday-travel highway just to ride a guy's bumper because he cut you off? Nutty. Passing on the right in the breakdown lane at top speed while simultaneously giving the finger out your moon roof and lighting a cigarette? Insane. Slamming on your brakes on the highway to let a tailgater know you're annoyed? Suicidal. Luckily, no road rage was directed our way. That would've been a wicked pissah.

After a couple hours of that craziness, we needed a break. (And because Mommy was a touch hungover from the wedding and needed fried food.) We stopped at Bayley's Lobster Pound near Old Orchard Beach, ME. Nothing like an order or two of fried clams and French fries to set you straight. Plus, the baby loves French fries, and Finn tried his first clams before opting for ice cream for lunch, so it worked out for everyone.

Next up, Part III: Hello, Cape Cod!

Part I: Vacationland

2011-06-03T12:03:00.000-07:00

The first part of our vacation was spent in Maine. (Well, we spent one night in Revere, MA) before heading up I-95 to Vacationland.

The Maine license plate has a lobster on it. Love that. Although I like our Doug fir plates here in Oregon, too.

We had to drive about 3 hours up into Maine for a family wedding. We got lost. We ended up driving along country roads, which is something I absolutely love. I adore exploring a new place, especially when that place is Maine. Jon? Not so much. He wants to get there. But if you ask me, the journey is half the fun. It feeds my inherent wanderlust.

We stopped for fried clams and cold drinks and ice cream. We stopped for directions and got a kick out of that fabulous Maine accent. We stopped for more ice cream and more directions. Big fun.

And finally, over hill and dale, we arrived to this picturesque place:

The Bethel Inn, founded in 1913 as a recuperative resort with cleansing mountain air. So gorgeous. Our room was huge, with high ceilings, tall windows and a sitting area. One morning, the little guy and I were up early (i.e., a painful 6 a.m.) and took a stroll around town -- a classic Gilmore Girls New England village. Loved it.

Finn managed nine holes of golf with his grandpa before spashing around in the pool with his cousins. We gathered with Jon's parents in their townhome overlooking the links. We met up with friends and family at the onsite tavern. Good times.

The wedding was beautiful, set in the town gazebo on the front lawn of the inn. The bride wore a perfect gown with pockets and had her tonenails painted light blue, while the ladies were in summery graphite-colored gowns. My sweet boy Finn looked spiffy in his beige suit with lavender tie, handing over the ring to the groom and then keeping himself relatively still for the rest of the ceremony.

Congratulations, Amy and Rogan -- it was a lovely wedding. I poked Jon in the ribs and cried while you spoke your vows -- it's always good to get a reminder of what the whole marriage thing is truly about. For us -- laughter, compromise, hard work, trust.

Next up, Part II: Roadtrip!

Vacation Break Holiday Getaway

2011-06-02T08:05:00.000-07:00

Just back from vacation and in catch-up (ketchup?) mode.

Lots of coffee on board, due to a fairly intense cross-country flight home followed by 4 hours zombie-like sleep.

Glad to be home after a spectacular week off. More to come.

KHA-KHA-KHA! {sploosh}

2011-05-24T04:00:00.000-07:00

I've been sick for a couple weeks -- coughing, stuffy nose, but no throat goop or lung junk -- so it seems like a sinus infection type-thing. A friend suggested this:

Oh my nasally goodness, I love it. It's like one of those neti pots, but way easier to manage.

At first, it's a little like drowning in the ocean, but in a good way. Once the saline gets up in there and swooshes around, all the nose stuff comes sloojhing out. It's extremely satisfying, once you get past the help-I-am-drowning-myself feeling.

Per the directions, you're supposed to make a KHA-KHA-KHA sound when you're doing it, for the way that particular sound opens and closes your throat. So the whole procedure not only feels weird and cool, but sounds ridiculous. It was enough to make me burst out laughing, spraying saltwater and nose waste all over the place. Fun.

You need to try it. I bet you wish you had a sinus infection right now, don't you?

That Sounds Good, I'll Have That

2011-05-23T08:31:00.000-07:00

Here's a recipe I think I could handle. It is pea-larious. (Not to worry, it's not pee-larious and will not get you fired if you click on it while at work.) Make sure to read the comments, some of which are pee-larious.

Thank you, Paula Dean. I think I may like you now.

I stole this from Kelly, who stole it from someone else.

And the Winner Is...

2011-05-20T14:54:00.000-07:00

To recap, here is the photo* along with the five caption entries for the Caption Contest posted earlier this week:

* While most men in full body spandex trade in sables, the elite in the know pass ferrets.

* A photo from a recent publicity event for the new childrens show "The Rainbow Boys". Pictured here with supporting character Mr. Bumpy Pants and Screech the Hiding Weasle.

* Mourning the loss of O and V, a commemorative ferret was left at the rainbow memorial this weekend.

* Here is a picture of my husband Jon and his buddies waiting outside before the Josh Groban concert.

* Hey Blue Man Group! Our spy got your ferret. Now, hand over the keys to Universal, or we feed the ferret to the hippogriff.

*****************************************

I submitted these captions to an unbiased panel of judges. While they were all deemed "freaking hilarious," only one caption could win.

And the winner is... [drumroll, please]

Mourning the loss of O and V, a commemorative ferret was left at the rainbow memorial this weekend.

Congratulations, Anne! You have won a fine yet-to-be-determined prize that is not a man in a tight colored suit or a ferret!

Thanks to everyone for playing along. I look forward to the next installment of Closed Captioning.

* Original photo taken by Liz Devine at the 12th Annual UFO Festival, McMinnville, Ore.

Closed Captioning

2011-05-17T08:57:00.000-07:00

It's a contest!

Whomever comes up with the best caption for this photo taken last Saturday will win something cool.

No, not a ferret. Not a man in a tight colored suit. But something cool, as of yet to be decided.

So, whaddya got? Lay it on me. ("That's what she said." -- Michael Scott)

Sorting Through Piles

2011-05-16T08:16:00.000-07:00

I'm a list-maker of the highest order. I can't accomplish anything without a list. Bulleted lists, lists with arrows, color-coded lists. (Never, ever a spreadsheet. Never.)

If I get something done that wasn't on the list, I will add it on just so I can cross it off. And if I get something particularly offensive done from the list (i.e., installing the car seat that had been sitting in the living room for three months), I award myself a "good!" and circle it. I will never black out an item, because I need to be able to read what it was so I can still feel good about having crossed it off the list.

On my current to-do list at home, there is this item:

Sort through documents.

There is a stack of stuff on the counter that really needs to be reviewed and sorted -- old paid bills, new unpaid bills, insurance forms, passport forms, coupons, correspondence, save-the-dates, voter booklets, scraps with mystery phone numbers on them, school paperwork, my most hated instruction booklets... It's all in there.

This is the type of list item that drives me crazy so that I pretend it's not there for three months while it sits collecting mental list-dust. Meanwhile, the pile of documents continues to grow, tipping precariously to one side. I'm pretty sure "sorting through documents" will take a solid hour or more.

And then, there's the next item on the list: File new documents.

And the one after that: Shred old documents.

Each task generates more and more list items. And who has time to accomplish all that? Because you can't stop at just sorting, because a sorted yet unfiled pile of documents is still just a pile of documents. Irritating.

I clearly need a personal secretary.

Hey... Where'd It Go??

2011-05-13T08:34:00.000-07:00

Heyyyy... that's lame. I posted something yesterday ("Instruction Booklet = Freakout") and now it's gone. It was all about installing a car seat -- I know, right? Hilarious. OK, maybe not hilarious, per se, but sorta amusing. Maybe. You know, if you're into that sort of thing.

Anyway, my own blog has informed me thusly:

"This post no longer exists."

NOT TRUE, Blogger, you &^#%@#%^@#$%. Because I know it happened -- Here Under the Rainbow commented this:

*****
I LOVE the title of your blog.

I feel the same way about instruction booklets as men do about asking for directions. I ignore them and the remaining pile of nuts and bolts that I decided were completely unnecessary to assembling the thing :)
*****

Dammit, Blogger. Thanks for nothin'.

Instruction Booklet = Freakout

2011-05-12T11:17:00.000-07:00

I bought a new car seat for Ian about three months ago. And it sat in its box for three months while I stressed about actually installing it.

I have this thing about stuff that needs assembly or installation, anything that comes with a multipage instruction booklet, a toolkit or, God forbid, a demo DVD. I immediately break out in hives.

So the car seat installation was on my to-do list for weeks and weeks and weeks. Everytime I looked at the car seat, which had become the de facto cat bed, my palms got sweaty. Everytime I looked at my giant baby stuffed into his tiny infant car seat, I felt guilty. That damn car seat was stressing me out.

Finally, this past Tuesday night, I set my mind to it. Armed with the instruction booklet (pertinent info highlighed and pages flagged), the damn car seat and a steely glint in my eye, I told Jon I'd be unavailable for at least an hour and headed out to the car.

And I installed the damn thing.

It took me -- get this -- four minutes. Total. It was simple. I did a fantastic job.

So, in the end, I learned a pretty good life lesson, which is this:

I'm not as incapable as I'd like to think I am.

File This Under: WTF?

2011-05-09T08:20:00.000-07:00

People are fun, aren't they? They are an endless source of amusement.

Take, for example, a lady having this conversation on her phone from a stall in a public bathroom at the mall yesterday:

*****************
Yes, yes, that's right, Phillip is a doctor now!

[grunt]

Yes, and his mother told me he's making $150,000!

[gross bathroom noise]

Uh-huh, I know! Isn't that amazing!

[tinkle tinkle tinkle]

And he is engaged to

[grunt]

a woman he met at medical school -- I think her name is

[fart]

Amelia. Isn't that wonderful? Hang on for a sec, honey --

[KER-FLOOOOOSH!]

I'm so glad we got this chance to catch up, Andrew! You tell your mom I said hi, alright, honey? Bye now!"
*****************

I couldn't make this stuff up if I tried.

An Ode to New Guy

2011-05-06T00:01:00.000-07:00

Happy 1st birthday, New Guy! I can't believe it's been 365 days.

We -- Daddy, Brother and me (that's Mommy to you) -- love your silly hair and big blue eyes, we love your sweet little dimples, we love your charming disposition and easygoing ways.

We love your giggles, your chortles and your guffaws. We love that you are having a good time. We love that people stop us on the street to comment on what a good-looking little man you are -- and that you usually reward them with a gummy smile punctuated by two tiny, chippy little teeth.

We love how you are trying to talk to us -- sure, we have no idea what the hell you're trying to say, but man, does it make us laugh. We can't wait for all the funny stuff you'll begin to say in just a few short months.

We love the crinkly sound your sweet little diapery butt makes as you crawl slowly, slowly across the floor. We love how you slowly, slowly pull yourself up onto your knees and suddenly pop your head up above the coffee table at us with a big grin.

We love how much you adore your brother, and how much he adores you right back. Daddy and I don't mind at all that he's #1 in your book, and we hope it'll stay that way the rest of your lives.

We also love how much you adore the cats. It's OK that they don't share that love, but at least they tolerate your awkward pat-pats and painful whisker grabs and tail yanks.

We love how you sleep through the night. We really, really love that. We also love how you wake up with a smile, every single morning. I mean, seriously, who does that? You do!

We love that we decided to add just one more to our little clan and that it was you. You, Baby Ian, are a joy and a delight and a fantastic little person to know.

Now, about your grand entrance a year ago... that we could have done without.

Mind Wanderings

2011-05-03T15:00:00.000-07:00

I have had way, way too much caffeine today. I am a buzzy mess. Couple that with the fact that today is a party-at-work day and I can barely form a coherent -- sorry? What what?

* Re: the party-at-work day, the company is opening a new hotel in downtown Portland today. Since we VIMTs (that's Very Important Marketing Types, sarcasm mine) have been busting our collective arse the past few weeks/months, we were invited to stay the night at the hotel and join in the festivities. Should be fun, and dangerous. Because even though we're joining in as civilians, this is still a work event. My motto for the evening: Talk less, listen more.

* More about the hotel -- each room is named for a performance from our nearby music venue. I'm in the Garnet Mimms room. I had to look it up. He is an American singer born in '33, influential in soul music and rhythm and blues, best known for his #1 hit "Cry Baby."

* Speaking of babies, my baby will be a year old on Friday. But since I think about the morning of his birth every single day, without fail, the actual anniversary is not significant. Because every day with Baby Ian is a happy day, deserving of cake.

* Speaking of the baby and speaking of speaking, he's at that hilarious stage of development in which he will look you in the eye and babble on and on with all sincerity, vocal cues and all, as if you're in a deep conversation. I love it. It cracks me up, which makes him laugh. Life is good with Baby Ian in it.

* And because I can't suffer a moment of mommy guilt, let me wax rhapsodic about Kid #1 now. Last night, I was in a weird head space and needed to get out of the house. So to avoid an argument with Jon about something silly like the proper way to load a dishwasher or why "Top Model" is/isn't the worst show on TV, I knew I should just vacate for awhile. So after the baby went down for the night, I grabbed Finn and off we went for a walk. We drove to the Willamette River east bank esplanade. There is a nice trail there, and with the sun setting over the west hills behind the city, it was really lovely. (And you should know, I don't use that word -- lovely -- lightly. To do so would be oh-so-very Gwyneth.) Anyway, Finn and I strolled along, hand in hand, and discussed all manner of things. It was really sweet and relaxing and calming. I enjoy my time with my boy, my tall, skinny, 7-year-old baseball-wonder of a baby. And we had a cool moment -- the river was very calm, with the buildings reflected on it, and suddenly, a huge sea lion flipped half out of the water and dove under again! I have never seen a sea lion in the Willamette, but it makes sense, what with all the salmon and sturgeon in there. When Finn and I returned home from our walk, my head was clear.

* Speaking of sea lions (yes, it's a stretch), well done, Navy SEALS Team Six. Mission complete.

Purr-fect, Dahlings

2011-05-02T16:10:00.000-07:00

My favorite blog to read every morning -- right after I devour the NY Times and Wall St. Journal, of course -- is Tom and Lorenzo (formerly known as Project Rungay).

They make me laugh embarrassingly loudly at my desk with their clever turn of phrase and spot-on opinions of all things pop culture. J'adore, dahlings.

To wit, their thoughts on Katy Perry's new perfume, Purr:

Katy on the other hand named her perfume “Purr,” because Katy is all about being simple and direct. She would have called it “Smells Like My Lady Area” but that wouldn’t fit on a bottle.

Ahahahahahahaahaaaa!

OK, perhaps that particular line is a touch heavy-handed when taken out of context, but because it just made me chortle out loud when I read it, it is what it is. Effing hilarious.

One of These Things Is Not Like the Other

2011-04-28T08:25:00.000-07:00

I'm seeing a trend these days. And it's freaking me out, man.

Flo from Progressive

Expedia chick

Katy Perry

Me.

Does this mean I have to abandon my ubiquitous, everlasting black eyeliner and Clinique Angel Red or MAC Russian Red red lipstick? I mean, I can't exactly go blonde at this stage in my life. Obviously it's a classic look from way back, but the Progressive insurance and Expedia chicks? Really? (Katy Perry gets a pass because of her fantastic boobs. Seriously. Look at those things. They are admirable.)

Mind Wanderings

2011-04-25T15:29:00.001-07:00

I am fighting to keep my head above water at the moment, both at work and with home stuff, so you know what that means... another less-than-profound list of stuff.

* I don't usually don't talk about work, but it is all-consuming at the moment. The company is opening up another hotel in the coming week. It set right in downtown Portland and was originally built in 1911 and used for all sorts of purposes over the past century -- lodging house, nightclub, men's bath house. After its complete renovation, it has guestrooms, a fine-dining restaurant, a saltwater soaking pool, a live music space and incredible original artwork all over the place. It's very cool and very crazy, but it's making me lose my cool and go crazy.

* Had a girls' night this past Saturday, to let off some of the work steam. No one fell down. No one cried. I had an excellent burger. I laughed me arse off. A successful night out.

* Seventy degrees and sunny and blue-skied on Saturday. Today, rain rain rain rain rain rain rain and some hail, plus occasional sun breaks. Like right now, sunshine streaming in over my shoulder.

* Salad for lunch = carbs for dinner. And wine.

* Finn swears he saw the Easter bunny. Says he's light brown and white, and small, like a real bunny, not just a magic one. "He's not a very good speller, though," said Finn after reading the note the bunny left him.

* Thank you for all the chocolate, small brown-and-white bunny. Bunny is a really cute word.

* Jon gets his safety-orange-colored hand cast off tomorrow, and the pins will be pulled out of his wrist. So gross. He said three people have told him that getting the pins out hurts the worst. Blech. And then he starts 3+ months of rehab.

* And my 15-minute smoke break is over, back to work. Over and out.

An Insufferable Dinner Party

2011-04-19T08:54:00.000-07:00

Oh jeez, where do I begin… This article by Lizzie Widdicombe of The New Yorker about Paltrow’s book party is just chock-a-block with fantastically un self-aware points and soundbites. Well done, Ms. Widdicombe. Well. Done.

First, my observations on the article and then the article itself...

[ahem]

1) No one uses the word “amongst” in normal conversation, Gwyneth.

2) Michael Stipe, you’re no Peter Buck, especially after recalling that amusing anecdote about a burning duck.

3) No one actually greets people at the door holding a glass of cucumber water, Gwyneth.

4) No one over the age of 10 should refer to their mother as “Mommy,” Gwyneth.

5) Unless one is Nancy Reagan, no one over the age of 10 should refer to one’s husband as “Daddy,” Blythe.

6) Christy Turlington, stop it. Stop blathering on to a New Yorker reporter about how sad it is to kill lobsters. The best part about you, Christy Turlington, is Ed Burns.

7) I, too, associate Paltrow with scungilli. No I don’t. Because that’s ridiculous. So is telling a story about watching the Oscars in a hut while conch-diving in the Bahamas. Shut up.

8) I think Chris Martin might need to be kidnapped. I’m sad for him, to have to live with Paltrow.

9) Interior designer Kelly Behun may mysteriously disappear in the next few days. And I’d bet my money on Batali, who is clearly Paltrow’s henchman, being involved.

*******
Dept. of Hoopla
Gwyneth’s World
by Lizzie Widdicombe

It’s tough for some people to accept Gwyneth Paltrow’s transformation from movie star to domestic goddess. Something about the combination of her willowy looks, her glam life style (she is married to Chris Martin, the Coldplay front man), and the unlikely food tips in her e-mail newsletter, Goop—“I was stationed at the deep fat fryer (Delight! Fried zucchini! Fried anchovies!)”—produces cognitive dissonance.

But Paltrow takes it in stride. “I’ve been the cook amongst my family and friends for years,” she said the other night. “That’s why I wrote the book. Because my friends are, like, ‘How do you make that? I want your chili recipe!’ ”

The book is Paltrow’s first cookbook, “My Father’s Daughter”—the title refers to her father, the late television producer Bruce Paltrow. It advises readers, “Invest in what’s real. Clean as you go. Drink while you cook.” Paltrow, who was hosting a dinner party to celebrate her publication, was not yet drinking, but she had a glow. She wore a white racer-back dress, tan wedges, and a linen apron with the book’s title printed on the chest.

She eats at home, she said. That day: “a cappuccino, some poached eggs with spinach, an apple, almonds, some cheese and bread, and a turkey sandwich with avocado and tomato.” She said, “People who don’t know me think that I only eat seaweed and rice balls.”

Dinner guests included people who do know her: Jay-Z, Cameron Diaz, Alex Rodriguez, the Seinfelds, and assorted food-world worthies. Most guests saw nothing unusual about getting cooking advice from a stick-thin actress; in fact, many said that they associated Gwyneth Paltrow with food. Mario Batali, in pink cargo shorts, was talking to Ruth Reichl. “She eats like a truck driver,” he said of Paltrow. He recalled being in Valencia, Spain, and “watching her eat an entire pan of paella as big as a manhole cover.”

Michael Stipe added, “Once, a duck she was cooking caught fire, and she threw it in the pool.”

Paltrow greeted people by the door, holding a glass of cucumber water. Her mother, Blythe Danner, arrived.

“Hi, Mommy,” Paltrow said.

Danner unfurled a white monogrammed cloth: “I brought you something. Daddy’s napkin.”

“Oh, boy,” Batali said. “The tears are gonna fly now, baby.”

Christy Turlington looked on. “We are lucky in that we have been the recipients of many meals with Gwyneth Paltrow,” she said, and mentioned a stuffed-lobster dish that Paltrow and Martin had served in Amagansett. “They do everything themselves, including the killing of the lobster,” she said. “It’s not the boiling-in-the-pot-and-screaming lobster thing. It’s a different, faster approach. I could never do it.”

“You smack it against a tree or something?” Batali asked.

“You stick a knife through the head,” said Turlington, who seemed suddenly troubled. “Oh! That’s awful to say.”

A financier at the party said that he associated Paltrow with scungilli: “My family and I were conch-diving down in the Bahamas. They’d cook the conch right there on the beach. And they had a TV in the little hut there, and that’s where I watched the Oscars this year.” (Paltrow sang a song on the broadcast.)

“I loved her in ‘Shakespeare in Love’!” said Martha Stewart, who was checking out the minimalist place settings provided by the Web site One Kings Lane. She said the only thing she consumes while watching movies is bottled water. She later tweeted, “Is Gwyneth the next Martha?”

At 9 P.M., the guests went out to a pair of long tables on the terrace. Diaz, A-Rod, and Batali sat near Chris Martin, who had arrived looking cranky. (A publicist warned, “He doesn’t want to talk.”)

Paltrow sat a few seats away, flanked by Jerry Seinfeld and Jay-Z. (The next day, she and the rapper posted reciprocal interviews on their Web sites. Paltrow: “I could sing to you every single word of N.W.A’s ‘Fuck tha Police.’ ”)

Paltrow announced the menu: roasted red peppers with anchovies, escarole salad, pasta with duck ragout. Jessica Seinfeld made a toast: “There is no one who is more comfortable or more capable in the kitchen, naturally, than you,” she said to Paltrow. “I don’t know how you do it.” She turned to the assembled guests. “And you are all so lucky to be part of Gwyneth’s world. Because this is the real deal. And she’s invited all of you good people in here. I would never do that.”

Wendi Murdoch, sitting nearby, had said that she is a reader of Paltrow’s blog: “Only one thing comes to mind—healthy and organic.” She listed her favorite recipes: “Pumpkin soup, grilled market vegetables. It’s good. I get my chef to cook it.”

“But you’re directing the chef,” Kelly Behun, a friend of Murdoch’s, interjected. Behun, an interior designer, was the only guest who didn’t have a Paltrow-related food memory. “Gwyneth?” she said. “When I see her, I don’t think of food.” ♦

Ring Bear

2011-04-18T08:48:00.000-07:00

Next month, Finn will be the ring bearer at his aunt Amy's wedding in Maine. He asked me what he has to do, so I explained the whole situation.

ME: You are in charge of carrying the ring up the aisle, and then you hand it to Uncle Rogan and he'll give it to Aunt Amy.

FINN: Well, why don’t I just give it to her? Seems kind of silly that I give it to Uncle Rogan and then he gives it to her. I’ll just give it to her myself.

ME: That's nice of you, sweetie, but the part where they exchange rings is special. It's all part of a ceremony.

FINN: So if I gave her the ring, that would be weird?

ME: Yes.

FINN: What if I forget?

ME: You won’t.

FINN: What if I lose the ring? Will Aunt Amy be mad?

ME: You won’t lose the ring.

FINN: But what if I did?

ME: You won’t.

FINN: I know, but what if I did?

ME: You. Won't.

FINN: OK, Mommy.

2011-04-15T06:08:00.000-07:00

Hmm. Quite a few quotable soundbites from this story on a local news site.

"Derfler even photographed what was left behind."
“To come on to our property and to defecate – it’s just wrong.”
"It is not known why he didn’t go there."

Enjoy.

*********

Postal Worker in Deep Doo-Doo after Using Yard as Toilet
Thursday, April 14th, 7:05

Don Derfler says his mail carrier had something to deliver all right but what he left behind was nothing resembling mail.

Derfler was waiting for his babysitter when he saw his mailman acting odd at a neighbor’s house across the street. The postal worker then pulled down his pants. That’s when Derfler starting snapping pictures. The pictures show the postal worker squatting near some bushes and pulling his pants up. Derfler even photographed what was left behind.

“We trust people like the postal service and meter readers and people of that nature,” said Derfler. “To come on to our property and to defecate – it’s just wrong.”

The post office is embarrassed. “Immediately, the individual was removed from the workroom floor, and they were put on unpaid leave,” said Ron Anderson, with the U.S. Postal Service.

The post office hasn’t decided whether it will fire the worker. It still needs to complete its investigation into the matter.

“That is something we’ll have to find out,” Anderson said. “That’s a possibility. I don’t know what the final outcome will be.”

After a KATU News reporter showed Anderson the photographs of the worker, he said it was inappropriate behavior.

“Why an individual like this would ever make a decision to do something that is just beyond common sense and reason, I don’t have an explanation for this individual,” he said. Derfler said he hopes it doesn’t take the post office long to reach a conclusion.

“I don’t know if this is a firing offense or not, but for me, it would be,” he said.

Two postal employees, who know the worker, said the man is embarrassed. Within two blocks from where the incident occurred, there is a public park with porta potties and a store with a public bathroom. It is not known why he didn’t go there.

..

Breaking News! A New Food Delight

2011-04-14T08:27:00.000-07:00

Gasp!

Anyone out there live near Toledo, Ohio? Quick, get thee to the nearest Taco Bell, get one of these dream junk-food delights and report back!

This is important.

***************************

Taco Bell Tests out Taco Shells Made from Doritos
By Keith Wagstaff

Watch out, KFC Double Down! There’s a new contender for the title of “World’s Craziest Fast-Food Item.” A Taco Bell representative has confirmed the existence of Doritos Locos Tacos, which feature taco shells made entirely out of Nacho Cheese Doritos. No longer will college kids have to stare down at their Taco Bell value meals and opened bags of Doritos and wonder “What if?”

Sadly, this cheesy creation is not available at all Taco Bell locations. It’s currently being tested at a handful of restaurants, including one in Toledo, Ohio, where GrubGrade got these shots of the taco’s Day-Glo orange shell.

But how does it taste? This cameraphone video, shot, according to the University of Southern California banners in the background, in Los Angeles, shows a customer chowing down on a Doritos Locos Taco. His reaction can only be described as pleased yet slightly confused, which I’m guessing is going to be pretty common.

Slashfood points out that this isn’t the first time that Doritos has flirted with the idea of taco-nacho chip hybrids, releasing Doritos Late Night Tacos at Midnight back in 2009, which longtime Village Voice food critic Robert Sietsema described as a chip with a “burn that would cut through an alcoholic haze.”

Taco Bell couldn’t tell me exactly how long the new tacos have been in the testing phase, although the YouTube video dates all the way back to July 14, 2010. We can only pray that Cool Ranch-flavored Doritos Locos Tacos are on the horizon.

A Look Back: 2005

2011-04-13T08:48:00.000-07:00

Here we are, back in 2005 when we were just three. This morning, hunting through a load of unfolded laundry, searching for a little-boy-sized sock for that formerly baby-sized person in the photo above, I suddenly thought to myself, "Holy cow, I am searching through a load of unfolded laundry for a little-boy-sized sock." Sometimes it hits me out of the blue, like a load of laundry to the face, that I am a mother. And it surprises me, for some reason. You parent-types out there -- does that ever happen to you? [Substitute "father" if you are of the male persuasion.]

Arrrrrgh....

2011-04-12T05:30:00.000-07:00

Thank the lawd in heaven for my sister. Because every single month, when I call her to gripe and complain and hem and haw about random stuff, she reminds me that I am probably just PMSing.

Duh.

I forget about the life cycle junk and she talks me down off the ledge. Every. Single. Month. And then she'll suggest something that will make it better.

Like buying new makeup. Like this lipstick, the unfortunately named Yummy Plummy. And just like that, life is better. In times like these, it's good to have a sister. And a bag of Cadbury Mini-Eggs.

Mind Wanderings

2011-04-11T08:16:00.000-07:00

* Has anyone noticed that I revert to slacker-style "Mind Wandering" posts when I haven't posted in awhile? Good. Me neither.

* Just had coffee, grits and half a raspberry muffin for breakfast. That was a nice way to start the day.

* Just realized I negated my early-morning workout with the grits/muffin combo. Eff.

* Want another baby pic? OK. Here's one where his big brother is taking an unholy delight in goofing on the New Guy, about to dump water on his head.

And to his credit, New Guy didn't mind a bit. Well, maybe a tiny bit.

All that hair streaming down the side of his face fluffs back up into sweet springy curls on top of his head when it's dry. But it's coming in straight and blond underneath. Sad.

* We have a big family wedding coming up next month, in Vacationland. (That's Maine, y'all.) Jon's sister is gettin' hitched and Finn is the ring bearer (a.k.a. The Ring Bear). Until then, the goals in the coming weeks are to get Finn suited up, find a cute outfit for New Guy and convince Jon to abandon his Gorton Fisherman/GEICO Caveman look before the ceremony. I may also do a tiny bit of shopping for myself.

* After the Maine event (heh -- get it? the Maine event?) we are heading down to Cape Cod for a few days. My family and I spent a few weeks there one summer when I was five or six and my only remaining memory is of seeing my mom sitting on the edge of a bed with huge amounts of blood pouring down her shin. Apparently she ran into a car exhaust pipe and gashed the heck out of her leg. Traumatic stuff for a five-year-old to see. I'm guessing my return trip to the Cape will be better.

What the &^#%@ Is That?

2011-04-06T08:41:00.000-07:00

Last night, at 12:43 a.m., both Jon and I were awakened by a growling near our heads.

This is not a cool way to wake up.

Our bedroom (and our bed) is on the street side of the house, right on the other side of the stairs leading up to the 2nd-level front door. Underneath the stairs is storage space for our recycling cans, lawn mower and a growling, terrifying monster.

"Grrrr.... grrrrr...."
"What the &^#%@ is that?"
"Is it the cat?"
"Have you ever heard the cat growl like that?"

Jon leapt out of bed and I followed him. I didn't want him to have to fight a monster by himself. Our cats were seated side-by-side in the middle of the living room, alert, ears pricked, tails swishing. They'd heard it too.

We went out onto the landing and peered down over the railing into the storage space. Black as night. Couldn't see a thing.

"Go get a flashlight, will you?"
"We don't have one."
"We don't have a flashlight?"
"No. It's on the list, though."

We stood quietly, waiting for the horrible thing to come out on its own. We heard it rustling around, but it didn't come out.

"Hey, throw that soccer ball in there."
"That's stupid."
"OK, then why don't you go down and confront the beast?"

After a few seconds, he picked up the soccer ball. Hanging precariously out over the railing, he fired it into the storage space. It bounced right back out. It reminded me of that scene in "E.T.," where Elliot throws a ball into the shed at the alien and it is rolled back at them.

The thing went completely silent. So did we. We stood there another five minutes or so, shivering. Finally, I went down and banged on the wall of our bedroom to try to scare it out. Still nothing.

And so we went back to bed. No further growling that night. And in the light of day, we found nothing. Still no idea what the &^#%@ it was.

Mind/Body Connection

2011-04-03T20:35:00.000-07:00

Body: Hey, when are we going out running again? I, like, sorta miss that. It's been almost a week.
Mind: I know, I know. I want to go, too, it's just--
Body: Nope. Bullshit. You don't. If you really wanted to go, you'd make it happen.
Mind: I know, but we've been busy, kids sick, Jon's surgery, crazy at work...
Body: [silence]
Mind: No, no, you're right. No excuses. We need to get out there. Thirty minutes, call it good, no big deal. It's just that--
Body: Nope. Don't want to hear it.
Mind: Arrgh. You know, it used to be me driving this bus. You used to hate it, this, this running thing.
Body: Yeah. Well, that is no longer the case. At the moment, anyway. I reserve the right to begin hating it again at any given time, without notice or approval.
Mind: It's always something with you, isn't it? Fine. Tomorrow, we get out there again, hit the road.
Body: Or the treadmill. We could hit the treadmill. Just make sure we have our iPod loaded up and ready to go.
Mind: I know that. I am The Mind. Sheesh.

Mind Wanderings

2011-03-30T22:00:00.000-07:00

It's been a long day, so a few random points are all I can muster... All aboard the Train of Thought!

* I like the word "muster."

* Jon had hand surgery at 7am this morning, to pin his misplaced pinkie bone back into its joint. Blech. So gross. When he awoke from the surgery, he complained of a lot of pain. Turns out the nerve block only numbed one side of his arm -- the wrong side. Whoopsie, said the anesthesiologist. So, after a deluge of pain meds flooded his system via IV, he began to drift off and, well, stop breathing as his heart rate slowed. No one seemed as concerned as me, despite the warning beeps and buzzers going off and his nurse periodically telling him, "Breathe, Jon. Deep breath! Now, Jon!" After they eased him off the IV stuff, his breathing returned to normal and he floated back to me. That was a strange way to begin a day. All is well now. Recovery time -- eight weeks, followed by months of rehab. (Him, not me.)

* I clearly have a blue nail polish problem. I just brought home my 8th bottle of blue polish. This one is called Mount Royal, and I bought it at American Apparel. Blue? Really? Am I 12? (No.) They're all different shades, of course, but still...

* There is a roadside motel en route to Mt. St. Helens set on a lake where you can fish right from your room! The balconies extend out over Silver Lake, and fishing gear can be rented for $5. Add it to the summer to-do list.

* Take-out Mexican for dinner -- carnitas tacos for him, half a burrito for me. I love me a good burrito, but I just can't put 'em away like I used to. Jon enjoyed his left-handed tacos with a side of Oxycodone.

* Heard a Death Cab song today that I loved -- something about a tourist? No idea if it's old or new, but I'm iTunesing it in 5-4-3-2-1.

Over and out.

Pinterest Addiction

2011-03-29T08:03:00.000-07:00

I am having a meh day. Not into it. Not liking the way my socks feel. Not happy about how I just purchased a magazine that I'd already purchased and read last week. Not all that psyched about this stupid rain that somehow got into my dumb socks.

You get the idea.

Here's some stuff that might help my mood. This group of random images has neither rhyme nor reason -- it's just stuff I liked when I saw it. They are taken from my Pinterest page, a new site where you create your own virtual inspiration boards. So instead of stuffing ripped-out magazine pages or paint swatches or travel suggestions or cute dresses from catalogs or what-have-you into messy hardcopy folders, you can just "pin them" into your Pinterest board and it creates the credit lines for you -- no need to worry about copyright laws.

It's addictive.

Blahblahblog

Ker-FLUEY

File This Under: Dream Home

A Sweet 'n' Salty Etta Story

Stolen from a Friend

Blue = Happy

File This Under Random

I Resolve...

A Look Back at 2011 -- 12 Posts

Resolutions '11: So How'd I Do?

In Between Holidays

Grumble, Grumble...

THANK YOU, Portland!

Sunday Afternoon in the City

And the 2012 Pantone Winner Is...

Mind Wanderings

Instant Happy-Maker!

World's Best Mommy

My Sister is Famous

I Give Thanks

Alcoholic Art

Random Observations

"STREET SHIRT!"

You Tell 'Em, King

Keep Moving Forward

A Call for Artists

Halloween Debate

Growing Up Weird

A Day at the Beach, Pacific NW-Style

Straight-Up Trippin', Yo

Mind Wanderings

"Ashes to Ashes, Orange Dust to Orange Dust"

Something Cute

Mind Wanderings

Mind Wanderings

George & Bono

Happy House

*#&&^$#*@ Adirondack Chairs

Best Words

Decemberists + String Cheese and an Egg

UPDATE: Rainbow Wedges

Update: Watching

Impulse Buy (a.k.a. Yet Another Shoe Post)

Worst Words

Score!

Watching and Working

Clearly, I Have An Addiction

AAAAGHGHHH!

Mind Wanderings

I Love the Random Stuff

Have a Seat

Current Obsession

It's Gotta Be the Shoes

Just Look Relaxed

Squatch Print

Wanderlust Magnified

Lions, Tigers, Bears, No Bigfoot

Mind Wanderings

Oh Fer Feck's Sake...

HACK! COUGH! GACKGACKGACK! WHEEEEZE.

A Ticket to Ride

File This Under "Random"

Pin Me

Feeling a Wave Coming On...

Update on Bigfoot's Oregon TV Appearance

Summertime Blues

Trashy Driveway Parties

What's Your Weird Thing?

Mind/Body Connection

Part VI: I Am Never Flying With This Kid Again

Part V: Vacation Photos

Contest: Win a Trip to Paris

Part IV: Cape Cods in Cape Cod

Part III: Hello, Cape Cod!

Part II: Roadtrip

Part I: Vacationland

Vacation Break Holiday Getaway

KHA-KHA-KHA! {sploosh}

That Sounds Good, I'll Have That

And the Winner Is...

#&&^$#@ Adirondack Chairs