In Which I Criticize Soda Ads

My week has been one of those weeks where I get up in the morning and start running and I don't stop until I go to bed at night. I haven't seen anyone, called anyone, emailed anyone, (well, except BioGirl, Nordic Boy, and Borgsmith), read blogs, nothing. I have thought about you, blog friends, but until they invent a device where I can just plug a cord into my brain so I can blog while running a-fucking-mok, hiatuses like this week will have to happen.

In short, I was sick for three days last week, which was not dramatic at all, but did result in work piling up and kicking me in the Balzac all this week. The other big happening around here is that it is Birthday Week for Ms. BioGirl, who has gained another year which puts her ever closer to personifying her hero, Jessica Fletcher.

Here're some random photos from Birthday Week shenanigans.

The Seattle area is rife (that's right, I said RIFE) with outdated pop culture sightseeing opportunities. There's the Sleepless in Seattle houseboat, the Singles movie apartment building, the town where they shot Twin Peaks, and many music-related sights which I am going to pretend like you don't care about because they are sort of agonizing to me. We decided, on a whim, that we would drive out to the town where Northern Exposure was filmed, which is called Roslyn, WA, and eat at Roslyn Cafe.


A sleepy little town where we immediately became the annoying tourists who snap pictures of everything.

On the side of The Brick (these photos are totally boring if you have never watched the show, and let's face it, they're boring even if you have)...


...there was a sign, which I wish you could read for yourself, but I couldn't bring myself to keep snapping photos of everything in front of the locals, and the sign said "Pepsi! Delicious and Healthful!"

I don't know which I was more appalled about, the claim of deliciousness or the claim for health.

There are lots of murals everywhere in Roslyn, on houses and businesses, which was pretty sweet.


This one was a Brando mural that looked like a "Got Milk?" ad because his upper lip was alarmingly white.


This one was my favorite. Ghostly miner kinda creeped me out.

Other Birthday Week activities involved:


Conveyer belt sushi. Nothing like having to grab your food off a moving contraption. We resisted the urge to put a glove on a plate of sushi as it moved by and have a Laverne and Shirley Schott's Brewery moment, but only because neither of us had a glove handy.

Glove? Handy??? I slay myself.

We also trekked out to Skagit Valley for the annual tulip season, which was fun and all, but mostly I think BioGirl was more excited about the Kettle Corn. That girl has a serious problem when it comes to Kettle Corn.


See that cooler on the side there? On it, it says "Old Timer's Drinks." You know what was in that cooler? Coke, Pepsi, and Sprite. What the hell kind of Old Timer's Drink is a Coke?

Oh, and I bet you're wondering why one would drive an hour out of one's way just to see tulips. Well, it's not just tulips.



It's a really lot of tulips.


I'm talking as far as the eye can see tulips, like you're in a freaky sort of munchkinland or something.

And what do you do when you're hiking around so many tulips on your birthday?


Contemplate life and clutch your Kettle Corn like a football.

Obviously.

I'm out,
Librarian Girl

What about Crankybritches Disease?

I have a stupid cold, people. My throat is being a total asshole right now. It hurts to do anything other than speak really quietly. No laughing, which totally cramps my style.

Last night, Nordic Boy reminded me that he has this book that talks about home remedies. We sprawled on the couch as he looked through it.

Him: Ah, here we go. The section on colds and flu.
Me: What does it say to do?
Him: Let 's see (skim, skim)...drink lots of fluids, obviously. That also keeps your temperature down if you have a fever.
Me: I don't have a fever though. But yes, drinking fluids.
Him: Huh, it says that elderberry tea helps you sweat out fever too. I didn't know that.
Me: (grumbling to myself) I don't know why you keep talking about frickin' fever stuff when I don't have a goddamn fever.
Him: (turning to the back of the book to look at the index)
Me: (petulantly) What are you looking up? What happened to the cold and flu chapter?
Him: I'm trying to see if they have a chapter on curing Grumpy Face. Also, Poopypants Syndrome.
Me: (bursting into laughter) hahahahahahaaaaaa ow. hahaaa don't make me laugh. hahahaaa ow.

Later
Me: Poopypants Syndrome?
Him: Yeah?
Me: Good one.

I'm out,
Librarian Girl

Strength lies in nights of peaceful slumbers

This morning...

Me: Should I wear a skirt to work today? Do you think it will actually be as warm as the reports say?
Nordic Boy: It totally will. It's going to hit 70 degrees today.
Me: I don't know. I really don't want to be cold at work.
Nordic Boy: Trust me. It's going to be warm.
Me: Well, if YOU say so. But I'm blaming you if it's not.
Nordic Boy: (singing in a very masculine Julie Andrews voice) "I have con-fee-dence in sunshiiiiine!"
Me: Wow.
Nordic Boy: "I have con-fee-dence that sprring will come again! Besides which you see I have con-fee-dence in meeeee."
Me: You left out the line about rain, I notice.

This is only funny if you are a fan of the The Sound of Music. If you're not, just never mind.



I'm out,
Librarian Girl

Pink and Blue Track Suits, Of Course

Weekend recap! Without photos! Because when it comes to photos, I am unsustainable! I need a photo-taking bailout!

I had the day off on Friday and I spent the morning in all sorts of domestic tasking. You know I have heard of these amazing new inventions? There are, apparently, these boxes that you install into your kitchen plumbing, and they run water and soap through them, and you put dirty dishes and pots and pans in the box, and the water and soap runs through the box and onto the dishes, and the box WASHES THE DISHES. Automatically. I know it sounds totally space age, but really, they exist. It is my dream to some day acquire just such a magic soapy water box. Until then, woe is me with the dishpan hands. If only I knew Madge, she could come soak me in some Palmolive.

After that I went over to D's house to eat lunch. D is like a tornado. He is one of those people that always has a grillion things going on in his life. He has a more-than-full-time gig as a computer type at Microsoft, he acts professionally, he dances competitively, he does martial arts, takes yoga classes, plays lots of tennis, and on and on. I have always wondered what makes him have so much energy. Friday, I found out. He eats like a frickin' elephant. He made us these gigantic sandwiches that I couldn't even pick up with two hands until I cut it in half, and he ate TWO OF THEM. And then said he was still kind of hungry. Sheezus.

That afternoon, Nordic Boy and I went for a little walk and went out to dinner. The sun was shining. It was awesome. Other than the fact that whenever I order something, and he orders something, whatever it is that he has ordered always looks better to me than what I ordered. Knowing that he is just a better orderer than I am, I think that maybe I should just start ordering what he is having. Except then we would be one of THOSE couples. Could matching velour jogging suits be too far behind?

On Saturday, I worked. It was crazy busy. End of story. We were going to go to a movie after that but by that time I couldn't do anything that requires the effort of like, going somewhere and sitting down for two hours. So we went for another long walk to get some sunshine, got take out, went home and watched the HBO John Adams miniseries and went to bed by 10:30. (Seriously. We are really close to matching jogging suits).

Sunday was GLAW-REE-USS. It got up to 68, people. Six to the tee to the eight!

The first thing I did on Sunday was go to the sporty spice store to get some new exercisey shoes. This is one of those stores that really does the job in terms of analyzing your feet and making you walk around so they can see how you carry your weight and if you roll onto your arches and stuff like that so they can fit your shoes to you like they are couture or some shit. One of the things they do is put shoes on your feet and then make you run around the block so that you can feel how they fit. This is one of those things that really tells me that I have become Bonafide Middle Class because where I grew up you don't let someone try on shoes that they haven't paid for and tell them to RUN OUTSIDE. That, to my ear, sounds like a surefire way to give shoes away.

I tried on about 10 pairs of shoes. Which means I ran around the block 10 times. Which wasn't really that fun. I mean, I want to buy the shoes so I CAN run. That doesn't mean I wanted to right then. Nordic Boy was there, and waited patiently the whole time. He was probably browsing the his and hers jogging suits.

After that, we went out to eat at a restaurant with a view of Lake Union. And then we walked around downtown for hours and hours. Nordic Boy and I can spend hours doing two things.

1. Walking around.
2. Looking at prettiness.

We walked all around and stopped in at every furniture design store we came across to look at pretty furniture. We stopped at the local architecture book store to browse photos of pretty buildings. We stopped in the art supply store to look at pretty new, shiny art accoutrement. We stopped at Paperhaus and looked at pretty office supplies (bamboo portfolio covers. mmmm). We stopped at a favorite boutique shoe store and looked at some pretty shoes. We stopped in at a design studio that shows local clothing designers' stuff. And we capped it off by walking around the Olympic Sculpture Park. Pretty, pretty, pretty.

Oh, and I got an eyeful of Nordic Boy too. Way pretty.

We went home at about 3 and snoozed on the couch. Then I went to a clothing exchange party where I picked up this item, which is so awesome I don't even know what to say.



That's a print of Madonna, circa 1987 on the left, Frida Kahlo on the right, and a dog with a heart pendant on her collar in the middle. Can someone explain this t-shirt to me? Because I love it, and I don't even know what it MEANS.

I'm out,
Librarian Girl

Happy National Librarian Day!

For this Librarian Day, I would like to say that any nerdy pastel-clad dance boys are welcome to arrive at my workplace to celebrate me in the following manner:



Mrs. Partridge and Robert Preston are welcome too.

I'm out,
Librarian Girl

A new Dick Tracy character?

Remember the whole "Candy Princess" story? Remember that?

Night before last, Nordic Boy rolled over, kissed me in his sleep, and said this:

"I love you, Knuckleface."

Knuckleface??? Really? KNUCKLE. FACE.

There is no way I can turn that into something cute, can I?

Librarian Girl

So good, so good

Last week, I was in Whole Foods. It was after work, I was feeling really tired, and it was rainy as all snot outside. I think the only word that could really describe me that day was bedraggled. I was be-effin-draggled.

As I shopped, I immediately noticed that my spirits, they were brightening. The spring was coming back in my step. And then I realized what was causing this. It was the music. Whole Foods was blasting some DEBARGE, people! Debarge. Oh. Yes. There must be some kind of marketing study somewhere that shows that humming "Tothebeatoftherhythmofthenight, dance until the morning laht! Forgetabouttheworriesonyo'mind, you can leave them all behaaaaaand" makes you want to buy more tangelos. Because it did. And I was happy to do it. Oh, Janet, how could you have let James Debarge go? Did being around him make you want to buy tangelos all day long?

So then, last night, I went in there again. This time I wasn't bedraggled or anything. I walked through the produce section and starting squeezing the avocados (is there any other food that gets felt up at the rate of avocados?). This time, they had Neil Diamond blasting. And the produce guy, standing next to me, stacking up the tomatoes? Did this.

Piped in music: Sweeet Caroline!
Produce guy: Bah, bah baaaah!
Piped in music: Good times never seem so good!
Produce guy: SO GOOD! SO GOOD!

Just right out in the open. Didn't look at me, kept stacking those tomatoes, but singing back up for Neil. With HEART.

I moved on to the noodle aisle. The song kept playing. And in that aisle, there was another worker unloading some such. And it happened again!

Neil: Touching me, touching youuuuuu!....Sweet Caroline!
Noodle guy: Bah, bah baaah!
Neil: Good times never seemed so good!
Noodle guy: SO GOOD! SO GOOD!

I walked all around that store, and there were people singing back up to Neil everywhere! I mean, EVERYWHERE. Not to each other in a sing-along way. Just to themselves, as they were going about their business. Not a shred of irony in the whole thing.

This, my friends, is the world I want to live in. I think I am going to move in at Whole Foods.

BAH BAH BAAAAH.

I'm out,
Librarian Girl

Horrible Photography Photo Essay

So did you all care about my weekend recap last weekend? Was it a good idea? A nice break from the usual stupid ramblings?

This weekend was another one jam-packed with fun times. And I tried to document it all, with moderate success, which is the only kind of success I really am apt to have. As I haven't had a moment to write about it all, but I do have some photogery, let's just load 'em up and comment.

We went on a grand tour of our city looking for some sort of energy-saving, eco-energy-measuring magical device that Nordic Boy wanted. I still don't quite understand what it is. First, we went to a big box store. Who the hell thinks that you find an environmentally-friendly ANYTHING at Best Buy? Us. That's who. Stupid us.


Plus, Best Buy makes me feel sort of crazy and not nice. And I am afraid Max Headroom lives there.

Then we went to Radio Shack, where we were outnumbered by salespeople. Six of them, two of us. No other customers. But they have fun old-school phones that you can dial and act stupid with! But they don't have eco-cord-devices. I didn't take a photo of the Radio Crack store because, you know, the Best Buy photo was all the retail artistry I could manage.

We finally went to Ecohaus, where I was forced to look at many different kinds of insulation. Many, many different kinds. Many, many, many. I am such a good partner, it's kind of amazing. Plus, they had the eco-device (that I still don't understand).

Also, this weekend I saw this sign at the local Beauty School, which you totally can't read in the picture, so I will read it to you.

"BOYS WITH CURLS GET MORE GIRLS"

Which caused us to try and come up with more couplets like this. Among them: BOYS WITH PERMS MUST HAVE GERMS; BOYS WITH GLASSES GET MORE ASSES; BOYS WITH JOWLS HAVE LOOSE BOWELS. Come on, you try!

I also read this book, which was awesome and you really should read it too.

(That's The Arrival, by Shaun Tan)

We also got gussied up and went out to dinner, and then to the ballet.

Pretty Seattle Opera House from the outside.

We saw Swan Lake with our friend D, who had never seen it, or any ballet before. The main things I told him.

1. There is a lot of clapping during ballet. Like, from the audience. Not from the dancers.
2. Be prepared to clap for like 10 minutes straight at the end.
3. Swan Lake is not a happy story.
4. Yes, their feet hurt.
5. Those male dancers are wearing dance belts under their tights. That's not really the size of their actual business you are seeing.

This is what he told me after seeing it:
1. Did they just die in the end? Really, after all that. They are going to just die???
2. That music sounds kind of like the Darth Vader theme music from the Star Wars movies.

Which yeah, it kind of DOES.


I also went to a tea house with BioGirl and they had a million teas in jars on the wall and I think she drank "samples" of all of them.


Oh, and I accidentally took this photo of myself with my camera, which is sort of terrifying. I don't even know when this happened.

GIANT FACE! GIANT FACE!

I think that's about all I did. The end.

I'm out,
Librarian Girl

Dreams, Marcia, Grease and Lapidus

Last night? I had this dream where I was in some sort of acting or public-speaking class. There were chairs set up all around the room, and in turn, each person had to get up and stand at a lecturn and tell a story. I got up and told some story about someone sleepwalking in the library and my having to go over and wake them up and how when they woke up I realized that it was the Homecoming Queen from my high school (do you capitalize "Homecoming Queen?" Because I kind of think you do, but it sort of pains me to do it at the same time). Anyway, in the background of my dream were the other people in the class. Among them were Paul Rudd, Malia Obama, Katie White from the Ting Tings, a green-skinned baby in a tuxedo that kind of looked like the Gerber baby, and Josh and the Maiden Metallurgist. That's right, people. I have populated my dreamscape with celebrities, weird babies, and blog friends. To whom I tell really boring anecdotes about library work.

There's got to be symbolism in there somewhere, but I don't think I want to try and figure out what.

This week has flown by in a flurry of activity. That's right, I said flurry. Oh, and speaking of flurries, I almost had a conipption fit yesterday because as I was working, out of the corner of my eye I saw what looked to me to be snowflakes blowing past the window. I became a rage-filled slobbering maniac. "ARE THOSE SNOWFLAKES?!!???" My co-worker looked at me with fear and said "Those are just cherry blossoms floating past the window." I could see in her eyes that she added to herself, silently: "ya friggin' freak." What can I say, I have been scarred by the snowy winter we've had and am gunshy. Or snowshy. Or something.

There is a copy of "Here's the Story," the tell-all sordid autobiography of Maureen "Marcia Brady" McCormick, sitting on the new book shelf at my work. I see it every day. It is pulling me toward it, like a blackhole, and I warn you I may be powerless to stop myself from checking it out. I just needed to confess that.

I saw a little bit of "Grease" on tv recently. Why do all of the people in that movie look like they are 30 years old, and how come I never noticed that when I was a kid? And also, how did they get Olivia Newton John's hair that big at the end of the movie? There had to be fake hair involved, right? And how come I never noticed that the whole point of that movie was to tell girls that you have to change everything about yourself and also put out if you want to keep your boyfriend? On the other hand, it also gave us the line "Where ya going? To flog your log?" so that's good.

So is anyone still watching Lost? And does anyone else think that Lapidus belongs in an 80s detective show a la Magnum PI or on the cover of a late 70s Harlequin Romance novel? And in this week's episode when they were yelling for him, didn't it sound like they were yelling "La Penis! La Penis!" like a fucked up Pepe LePew? And was Kate really wearing a big ass red scrunchie in her hair, for serious? And why did they have to make child-Ben so Harry Potter looking?

You may think I watch that show for the theories and the mind-twisting plotlines. But no. I watch so I can giggle at La Penis.

I'm out,
Librarian Girl

Walking On Sunshine

Holy shit it is nice weather here all of a sudden. I am kind of all agog about it.

Good thing too, because Sunday I went and did the MS Walk, to raise awareness (and dolla bills) for folks living with Multiple Sclerosis. And as much as I wanted to do the walk, I was afeared that it would be miserable weather outside, which makes me sound like the biggest asshole on the earth but I cannot tell a lie, I was so cheered up when it was all sunny.

As I was leaving that morning, I threatened Nordic Boy (who couldn't come because he was trying to get over a cold bug) with my wardrobe.

Me: (dressed in jeans, a shirt and a hoodie) I'm just wearing this! NO COAT!
Him: Good!
Me: I mean it!
Him: Fine!
Me: I'm not kidding!
Him: I believe you!
Me: I'm serious!

BioGirl and Borgsmith came to pick me up, and we headed over to the University of Washington campus to start the walk. All I knew was that we were starting somewhere on campus, and then walking over to Gasworks Park and then back again- about 4 miles. What I didn't realize was that the actual starting point was inside Husky Stadium.

Any sports fans reading this will defriend me after I say this, but I have never been inside a stadium before. Unless you count sports arenas- like for basketball. I have been in one of those. But a football stadium? Never! It was TOO EXCITING.

We met up with our team which consisted mostly of other library folks, including the always adorable Hopscotch and Rambo, who won the award (in my mind) of "Cutest T-shirts on Cutest Couple Ever."


Come on, people. The cuteness!

So we walked and walked, and the city was gorgeous. We walked along Lake Union, and the water was blue, and boats were drifting by, and all the trees were in full blossom mode. If only I would have taken photos (other than the t-shirt cuteness), I could share it with you. Shows you where my picture-taking priorities are.

After the walk, we all met up at Eastlake Bar and Grill for a late brunch. We sat out on a deck overlooking Lake Union (again, it was really pretty, wish someone would have taken a photo or something) and there was sunshine. Actual sunshine. It was so mothersucking pleasant, it was almost wrong.

When the walk was over, we sat down to rest a bit before getting on the road, and Borgsmith and I decided that the stadium turf was the cushiest spot available. But hey, do you all know that perfectly dry looking turf can be totally full of water like a sponge? Which may just cause your jeans and under-wheres to get sopping wet? Which will then make you feel like you have cold, soggy Huggies on as you are walking around trying to look normal? Yeah, because that's what happened.

Of course, BioGirl, Miss SMARTY SMARTGIRDLE did not make the mistake of sitting on the turf and kept her skivvies dry. See what they teach you when you go to Stanford?

And when I went home? Our windows were all open! And there was a nice breeze floating through the living room! And Nordic Boy and I dozed on the couch and listened to birds chirp and shit like that. It was totally ridonk.

And now, here it is, Tuesday, and it's still nice outside. It makes me feel a little manic- like I just want to be outside all the time no indoor anything just wake up and go outside and also wear skirts every damn day and I know this won't last because let's face it it's Seattle and the clouds shall return but for now it's so so nice. And I am enjoying the rest of my week with non-soggy drawers as well. Bonus.

I'm out,
Librarian Girl

Pretend Like You Care

Hey, guess what happened on this very weekend umpteen years ago in the magical land of Illinois?

I met my dude.

It was a grand affair.

At least to us.

Cherry Blossoms, Art and Mustaches

There was snow again this morning. And that ain't no April Fools. I don't think Seattle is really Seattle any more. Since when do we have snow like this? And since when do we have snow in April? Crikey.

I got up super early this morning to see Nordic Boy off on another business trip. But then I just stayed in my house all morning, with the shades drawn, eating my oatmeal and watching my tivo'd episode of Ellen in peace, not knowing what kind of crap was going on outside. So when I got myself ready for work and I stepped out my front door, I was so stupified and disappointed to see snow falling that I said, loudly, "AWWW MAAAAN!" and scared my elderly neighbor lady next door, Maggie, as she was sweeping her stoop.

Winter. Making me scare the elderly with my outbursts.

To spare you more whining about snow, let's just load up some photos of my lovely weekend. I got to thinking last week that I never really write anything on my blog that could be said to chronicle my daily life very well. Like, I tell you about when I say stupid things in meetings or I hearken back to the days when I was in a menage-a-hand-holding relationship, but I don't do the whole "this weekend I went to dinner and had a lovely kale pesto pasta dish, and then we went to the theater where we saw a revival of Cats." Maybe that's because I would probably not go see a revival of Cats, but a lot of you list off events in your lives like this on your blogs and I find it really interesting. Isn't that what is so compelling about blogs- to see a glimpse into someone else's life? And believe you me, I am more than just the girl who leaves inappropriate notes accidentally under people's doors. So much more.

On Friday afternoon, I went for a walk after work. The sky was a particularly striking color of dark gray. We get a lot of gray skies in Seattle this time of year. Ok, lots of times a year. Oh ALRIGHT, every time of year. And when you get this many gray skies, you start to see the nuances in each. It's like that thing that people say about Eskimos having nine grillion words for "snow." We have a million shades of gray skies.

Sounds depressing right? But it ain't. Because we also have pretty, pretty plantings and things, which break up the gray with lots of green and also flowery type colors. One thing about Seattle is that, even in the city, there are trees. Planted right into the sidewalk a lot of times.


Pink against gray. It's so 1988.

After that, I went out to eat dinner with Hopscotch and K8 at a nice little pub. I totally forgot to take photos while there, but at the last second I remembered to take a photo as we were leaving. This was taken right before BioGirl texted me to tell me that she had sighted a dude with a large handlebar mustache at Whole Foods. Yes, we really communicate about such things. In fact, you don't even know the half of it.


Minutes after the Great Mustache Alert of '09

Saturday, Nordic Boy went to the Green Festival for most of the day, and saw things about how there is a fungus among us, and how to build solar panels out of toenail clippings or some such thing like that. You know, bettering the world for our children, who are our future. Me? I went out with BioGirl and had brunch (including a GIANT BISCUIT OF DOOM). Which I am sure helps children in some way too.


Then, I put on my galoshes (not really) and my slicker (not really) and braved the rain to go see an exhibit of paintings on loan from Jodhpur that was showing at the Seattle Asian Art Museum. Rather than rent the headphones that tell you the art history about the paintings (I is a cheap bastard), I wore my iPod and listened to Ira Glass. Which was kind of a weird juxtaposition of media intake, really. It did help me to not be irritated with the room that the museum had set up for Interactive Cultural Appropriation Purposes where white people got to find their Indianness by donning saris as if it is Halloween. So that was nice. Also, the paintings were all kinds of awesome.




After that, I just sort of sloshed around the park outside the museum, getting rained on and kind of not caring how bad this was making my hair look. Kind of.

Behold the park's sculptural donut with the Space Needle in the background.

Later, I met up with Nordic Boy for a delicious dinner and then we went home with some rented movies and sat on our couch under a blanket, which is on my top five list of most favorite things in the universe.

Sunday, we walked to the grocery store and did some shopping, which is a really dumbass thing to do on a Sunday, since the whole world is also doing the exact same thing and so you are almost sure to get accidentally groped in the cereal aisle. At least I hope it was accidentally.



That night, we had friends over for dinner and stayed up talking with them into the wee hours. Which meant that we woke up on Monday morning to this.


The measure of a good weekend is how much clean up you have to do afterwards. Or something.