"Outcry Over Obama's Bow"? Really, Yahoo! News? Really. Sorry, but i'm pretty sure that the nearby article "Why Girls Love Twilight Stars" will make for a much more intelligent and insightful read. Perhaps it's time i switched free email providers- YEAH, i said it! Although, if only there was some kind of assurance that i wouldn't be forced to read asinine article headlines every day. Dang.
In other news, they are announcing Chubbo McCubbo's official name tomorrow over at the San Diego zoo; if the idiots voting chose "Blissful San Diego" i am officially fucking moving.
Also, i have a question: does anyone out there soak and cook their own chickpeas? Because i'm pretty sure that you could set up a fairly accurate test of whether or not someone has Obsessive/Compulsive Disorder by setting them in front of a bowl of soaked chickpeas and observing what happens next. If they have issues, like me, they will sit there for an hour and methodically peel off all the damn skins, one, after the next, after the next... after the next. Or, maybe this is just my glimpse into what my Own Personal Hell will be like: a never-ending bowl of chickpeas, with the skins still on.... Nat always tells me to leave them on BUT I CAN'T, I CAN'T!!
...please send help.
Monday, November 16
Saturday, November 14
Stuck in the middle with you.
So the better half's family drove down from L.A. this afternoon so we could all celebrate his mom's birthday. Our adventures started out well enough: first we hit up the charming, dusty bookstore DG Wills, where nat's parents hit it off immensely with the owner (who was sitting outside drinking wine with friends when we arrived, !). You would be hard pressed to find a nicer fellow anywhere.
(Incidentally, when nat and i first moved down here, i went around applying at every bookstore i could find, and when i asked this man if the place was hiring, he chuckled and said, "nope... it's just me." Damn. There is exposed wood everywhere, and so much bric-a-brac!)
The place is filled to the gills with books: poetry anthologies, new literature, old kids' books, dictionaries, latin, greek, maritime, art, classics, and so on and so forth. Various antiquated metal objects are everywhere, even up in the rafters; a typewriter, an anchor, an old iron stove.
i snagged a Valentine postcard from 1911 Minnesota:
Dear Mrs. Doll How are you? We are all well We are having lovly weather It will soon be spring than I will expect you down. Mrs. Beebel (?)
[Check out the abbreviation for Cincinnati ("Cin'ti") and the postage square (i assume someone already pilfered the treasure that was the stamp): "United States and Possessions". Awesome.]
Also, a first edition of a late-discovered Wilhelm Grimm tale, Dear Mili, illustrated by Maurice Sendak. i am super excited about this one. It's in great condition, and i hope my kids will read it someday in the wintry light on the floor of their bedroom.
After that, we thoroughly discombobulated a young counterboy at the cafe next door (ugh, we were totally That Annoying Family Who Are Ordering Together But Not All Ready At Once. Sorry, dude.), and then raced to the shore to try and check out the seals. The light was fading too fast, but we managed to enjoy 15 minutes of seal silhouettes and intermittent barking. We then made the poor decision of taking nat's mom to the British pub we recently discovered. We couldn't sit inside because nearly half of the tables were "Reserved" (for a giant group of assholes on a pub crawl, we later discovered), and the space heater near our table outside wasn't working. Then nat's mom's chips were cold, as was her fish, AND her peas... The usual '80s alternative radio they play was, instead, atrocious contemporary light rock, and two of our meals came out ten minutes after the rest. It was tough to enjoy the evening, but then nat's mom called basketball "netball" and everything was well again. Also, we all ended up eating cake and watching Eddie Izzard at home afterward, so who's complainin'? i think a valuable lesson for me to learn, should i ever give in to it, is to quit convincing myself that everyone else is having a horrible time and just enjoy myself. Magnifying and lingering on the tiny problems is never a good idea, and even if i'm not the one doing it, i always manage to convince myself that it's my fault anyway. Good times!
Thank goodness the NyQuil dependency i've built up all week has finally (mostly) disappeared. Gotta get up nice and early tomorrow; my first day back at work after a week of being ill. Let me just say this: i am not excited, not even a little. Especially considering that we're having an employee meeting an hour after i open the shop, which is about the time i'm done opening in the first place. This means there will be no "settling in" period. Better make sure i bring an extra cup of coffee to work; my boss is the type of woman who thinks that saying "Ow! Charlie bit me" is (and ever was) hysterical, and told me that her costume for Halloween was "a Chinese lady".
i will need all the help i can get.
(Incidentally, when nat and i first moved down here, i went around applying at every bookstore i could find, and when i asked this man if the place was hiring, he chuckled and said, "nope... it's just me." Damn. There is exposed wood everywhere, and so much bric-a-brac!)
The place is filled to the gills with books: poetry anthologies, new literature, old kids' books, dictionaries, latin, greek, maritime, art, classics, and so on and so forth. Various antiquated metal objects are everywhere, even up in the rafters; a typewriter, an anchor, an old iron stove.
i snagged a Valentine postcard from 1911 Minnesota:
Dear Mrs. Doll How are you? We are all well We are having lovly weather It will soon be spring than I will expect you down. Mrs. Beebel (?)
[Check out the abbreviation for Cincinnati ("Cin'ti") and the postage square (i assume someone already pilfered the treasure that was the stamp): "United States and Possessions". Awesome.]
Also, a first edition of a late-discovered Wilhelm Grimm tale, Dear Mili, illustrated by Maurice Sendak. i am super excited about this one. It's in great condition, and i hope my kids will read it someday in the wintry light on the floor of their bedroom.
After that, we thoroughly discombobulated a young counterboy at the cafe next door (ugh, we were totally That Annoying Family Who Are Ordering Together But Not All Ready At Once. Sorry, dude.), and then raced to the shore to try and check out the seals. The light was fading too fast, but we managed to enjoy 15 minutes of seal silhouettes and intermittent barking. We then made the poor decision of taking nat's mom to the British pub we recently discovered. We couldn't sit inside because nearly half of the tables were "Reserved" (for a giant group of assholes on a pub crawl, we later discovered), and the space heater near our table outside wasn't working. Then nat's mom's chips were cold, as was her fish, AND her peas... The usual '80s alternative radio they play was, instead, atrocious contemporary light rock, and two of our meals came out ten minutes after the rest. It was tough to enjoy the evening, but then nat's mom called basketball "netball" and everything was well again. Also, we all ended up eating cake and watching Eddie Izzard at home afterward, so who's complainin'? i think a valuable lesson for me to learn, should i ever give in to it, is to quit convincing myself that everyone else is having a horrible time and just enjoy myself. Magnifying and lingering on the tiny problems is never a good idea, and even if i'm not the one doing it, i always manage to convince myself that it's my fault anyway. Good times!
Thank goodness the NyQuil dependency i've built up all week has finally (mostly) disappeared. Gotta get up nice and early tomorrow; my first day back at work after a week of being ill. Let me just say this: i am not excited, not even a little. Especially considering that we're having an employee meeting an hour after i open the shop, which is about the time i'm done opening in the first place. This means there will be no "settling in" period. Better make sure i bring an extra cup of coffee to work; my boss is the type of woman who thinks that saying "Ow! Charlie bit me" is (and ever was) hysterical, and told me that her costume for Halloween was "a Chinese lady".
i will need all the help i can get.
Friday, November 13
Dear Diary,
So, the incredibly sweet and rambunctious grimalkin that we all got to meet last christmas was hit by a car a few days ago, and has moved on from this earthly life.
He was lanky, and feisty: self-confidence was not lacking in this one. One (cold) morning i went down to the microwave in the garage to re-heat a cup of coffee, and i heard scritch-scritch-crunch-scritch. There was Bugsy, behind the recycling, eating a bird he'd killed, and one that was about his size, too. The feathers were black and white, spotted and striped... he looked up at me plainly, alert: what? i'm just down here eating. But each night he would dial back up the kitten-tude, and paw open the bedroom door so he could curl up at our feet, purring and kneading, hungry for love.
He was a very special cat (i know: which ones aren't?), and i can't decide if i was lucky to meet him, or if it just made this loss extra sad. Nah, scratch that. i was lucky, for sure. And apparently, i was also the only one who ever took a photo of the little guy, which i am now using as a motivation for finally getting my 9,000 rolls of film developed. We need to fashion a little shrine, a place to hold and resonate our collective grief.
Meanwhile the dog, beforehand a snubber of the cat's affections, has now taken to sniffing around Bugsy's food bowl, and checking for him around the perimeter of the house. She's gettin' it.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Decided to try and drink some coffee today, unfortunately i don't believe that my system was ready. Just feel jittery and gross. Can't wait for things to be back to normal. The holidays are coming; my boss is asking me about scheduling on Thanksgiving. It's sure to be a whirlwind. Before we know it, christmas will be here again, and then gone. Don't believe i'll even have snow to show for it this year. Ah, the passing of time. Pay attention– it's quick.
A friend has sent me two old manual cameras. Sure wish this gladdened my heart instead of filling me with dread... when's the last time i even snapped a picture? It's been ages. Perhaps that's part of the problem. Need to get out more.
Love to all.
He was lanky, and feisty: self-confidence was not lacking in this one. One (cold) morning i went down to the microwave in the garage to re-heat a cup of coffee, and i heard scritch-scritch-crunch-scritch. There was Bugsy, behind the recycling, eating a bird he'd killed, and one that was about his size, too. The feathers were black and white, spotted and striped... he looked up at me plainly, alert: what? i'm just down here eating. But each night he would dial back up the kitten-tude, and paw open the bedroom door so he could curl up at our feet, purring and kneading, hungry for love.
He was a very special cat (i know: which ones aren't?), and i can't decide if i was lucky to meet him, or if it just made this loss extra sad. Nah, scratch that. i was lucky, for sure. And apparently, i was also the only one who ever took a photo of the little guy, which i am now using as a motivation for finally getting my 9,000 rolls of film developed. We need to fashion a little shrine, a place to hold and resonate our collective grief.
Meanwhile the dog, beforehand a snubber of the cat's affections, has now taken to sniffing around Bugsy's food bowl, and checking for him around the perimeter of the house. She's gettin' it.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Decided to try and drink some coffee today, unfortunately i don't believe that my system was ready. Just feel jittery and gross. Can't wait for things to be back to normal. The holidays are coming; my boss is asking me about scheduling on Thanksgiving. It's sure to be a whirlwind. Before we know it, christmas will be here again, and then gone. Don't believe i'll even have snow to show for it this year. Ah, the passing of time. Pay attention– it's quick.
A friend has sent me two old manual cameras. Sure wish this gladdened my heart instead of filling me with dread... when's the last time i even snapped a picture? It's been ages. Perhaps that's part of the problem. Need to get out more.
Love to all.
Thursday, November 12
Marginally better.
Wow, so i just bit off a righteous hangnail and let me tell you, there is little more disturbing than blood spatter all over the keys of a bright white MacBook. (Nat, if you're reading this, don't worry: i used the 180 proof.) ::shudder::
Spent the day tiptoeing around the place, trying my best not to cough. You see, i sneezed so much in the past two days that the slightest cough (or giggle) sends me into the higher levels of my pain threshold. Not fun times.
Decided it would be best to spend the evening in bed, watching Hush... Hush, Sweet Charlotte, since my mom and bro have been pestering me to watch it since forever, and really– who can ever have enough Bette Davis? What a talent.
(still bleeding over here, by the way.)
Not much more to say today except that it will be so nice to taste my dinner. i really hope that gets to happen tonight.
And, just because (i had to!):
Spent the day tiptoeing around the place, trying my best not to cough. You see, i sneezed so much in the past two days that the slightest cough (or giggle) sends me into the higher levels of my pain threshold. Not fun times.
Decided it would be best to spend the evening in bed, watching Hush... Hush, Sweet Charlotte, since my mom and bro have been pestering me to watch it since forever, and really– who can ever have enough Bette Davis? What a talent.
(still bleeding over here, by the way.)
Not much more to say today except that it will be so nice to taste my dinner. i really hope that gets to happen tonight.
And, just because (i had to!):
Tuesday, November 10
you know you're sick, when:
~After a full (9 hours!) night of sleep, you wake up feeling like you've just taken a long tumble down an extremely rocky cliffside.
~Your face is leaking.
~Parts of your back hurt that you never even knew existed. (Are those actually internal organs? Maybe.)
~One minute you are throwing open windows and stripping to a tank top, and the next you are wearing two sweaters, socks and sweatpants, curled up in bed under the Extra Blanket.
~Your brain's processing power is so feeble that you find yourself watching "Bolt" on your computer. (Thanks, Netflix!)
~Your go-to meal is toast, toast, and more toast.
On the other hand, being ill offers up a great reserve of time in which to read all those books you have laying next to your bed. i just finished reading Logicomix, wherein i learned a great deal about Bertrand Russell (and logic/math in general), through the über-accessible vehicle of the graphic novel. Also interesting has been Oliver Sacks' An Anthropologist On Mars, where i've just heard the tale of the man who was in a traffic accident and afterward became (completely!) colorblind, seeing the world in only shades of black and white (and grey). Ugh! If you think that sounds nice, well– you're mistaken. Just check out his offering of fruits, all pieces of which he has painted grey. Try and salivate over that leaden orange. No really, go ahead! To make matters worse, this man was a painter and could no longer enjoy his craft, or the works of others (unless they were black-and-white photographs, which remained unaffected). He even noted a distinction in tone between black-and-white TV and color TV with the color turned all the way down.
Also reading There Once Lived a Woman Who Tried to Kill Her Neighbor's Baby: Scary Fairy Tales, by Ludmilla Petrushevskaya. Bone-scraping stuff. Real, and harsh. Much less magical than, say, Angela Carter. More bleak and numbing. But good.
Listening to older Animal Collective and newer PJ Harvey. One is emotional, palliative, and jubilant, while the other is rough and unsettling. Actually, they both are all of those things.
Off to tea and... well, toast.
(cooty)kisses,
``h
~Your face is leaking.
~Parts of your back hurt that you never even knew existed. (Are those actually internal organs? Maybe.)
~One minute you are throwing open windows and stripping to a tank top, and the next you are wearing two sweaters, socks and sweatpants, curled up in bed under the Extra Blanket.
~Your brain's processing power is so feeble that you find yourself watching "Bolt" on your computer. (Thanks, Netflix!)
~Your go-to meal is toast, toast, and more toast.
On the other hand, being ill offers up a great reserve of time in which to read all those books you have laying next to your bed. i just finished reading Logicomix, wherein i learned a great deal about Bertrand Russell (and logic/math in general), through the über-accessible vehicle of the graphic novel. Also interesting has been Oliver Sacks' An Anthropologist On Mars, where i've just heard the tale of the man who was in a traffic accident and afterward became (completely!) colorblind, seeing the world in only shades of black and white (and grey). Ugh! If you think that sounds nice, well– you're mistaken. Just check out his offering of fruits, all pieces of which he has painted grey. Try and salivate over that leaden orange. No really, go ahead! To make matters worse, this man was a painter and could no longer enjoy his craft, or the works of others (unless they were black-and-white photographs, which remained unaffected). He even noted a distinction in tone between black-and-white TV and color TV with the color turned all the way down.
Also reading There Once Lived a Woman Who Tried to Kill Her Neighbor's Baby: Scary Fairy Tales, by Ludmilla Petrushevskaya. Bone-scraping stuff. Real, and harsh. Much less magical than, say, Angela Carter. More bleak and numbing. But good.
Listening to older Animal Collective and newer PJ Harvey. One is emotional, palliative, and jubilant, while the other is rough and unsettling. Actually, they both are all of those things.
Off to tea and... well, toast.
(cooty)kisses,
``h
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
