Saturday, December 31, 2011

New Year Meme 2011

Once again, I'm doing this tired old thing. Don't tell me that I never recycle anything.

1. What did you do in 2011 that you’d never done before?
Went to a baseball game. The food sucked monkey balls and cost like it came from the mothereffing Ritz. But the game was fun, and the friends, and the sweet, sweet sunshine. Also, I went to see roller derby. Look at me, so sporty!

2. Did you keep your new years’ resolutions, and will you make more for next year?
Last year I did a whole list of things I want to keep up, rather than things I wanted to change. I should write a post about whether I did all of it or whether I was full of shit. Perhaps I will. But not right now. As for 2012 ones, I doubt it. I haven't decided yet.

3. Did anyone close to you give birth?
Yes! It was another year of babies all around! Cuteness levels WAY UP in 2011.

4. Did anyone close to you die?
Well, he was close to Nordic Boy, which is as close to me as you can get. It was horrible.

5. What countries did you visit? 
You know what? I am changing this question to "what trips did you take?" so I don't have to keep saying the same mess every year about not travelling abroad.
New York, New York, it's a wonderful town! (I love singing the line from that song). Also, Dungeness Spit, the Olympic Peninsula, Portland, Michigan.

6. What would you like to have in 2012 that you lacked in 2011?
More healthiness for all my loved ones. Or all of everyone. to all.

7. What date from 2011 will remain etched upon your memory, and why
I have so many, but I will say July 4, because I went to a really fun party and saw fireworks and it was good times.

8. What was your biggest achievement of the year?
Keeping it positive on the work tip, yo. Also, resolving some friendship stuff that needed resolving on a couple of fronts. The friendship situations just about killed me this year. It's good to care that much and love people as much as I do, and I wouldn't change that about myself even if I could, but sometimes it opens me up to heartbreak too. Thankee Jebus that I still have some good homies to count on.

9. What was your biggest failure?
I honestly can't think of one. Apparently I have a high opinion of myself. There was that time I lost my new camera, which made me feel like a first class a-hole.

10. Did you suffer illness or injury?
I had a serious case of gut bug for the first time ever. It was terrible but I did get to lie on the bathroom floor like a frigging rock star. GLAM.

11. What was the best thing you bought?
My plane tickets to New York.

12. Whose behavior merited celebration?
I have so many people I could mention for this, which is awesomesauce. I will just say Alli and Map, for coming to see me just because I missed them so bad. And BioGirl, for carrying out friendship duties with panache.

13. Whose behavior made you appalled and depressed?
I don't even want to talk about it, because my being appalled doesn't change a goddamn thing.

14. Where did most of your money go?
A gas line and a new furnace to match. The furnace company was all "make it rain, suckers!" and we did. It poured.

15. What did you get really, really, really excited about?
Going to Portland Fashion Week with my bestie.

16. What song will always remind you of 2011?
It's not even a song from this year, but I listened to it a lot this year, because I can be dumb and dramatic sometimes. "Every Heartbeat" by Robyn. I'll put a clip of it at the end of the post.

17. Compared to this time last year, are you:
i. happier or sadder? Both
ii. thinner or fatter? Same
iii. richer or poorer? Same

18. What do you wish you’d done more of?
Reading and spending time with my peeps and going to arty things. You know, the stuff I want to be doing all the time.

19. What do you wish you’d done less of?

20. How will you be spending Christmas?
Already happened! My dude, movies, reading, laughing, eating.

22. Did you fall in love in 2011?
Every frigging day.

23. How many one-night stands?

24. What was your favorite TV program?
Parks and Rec. Ron Swanson for President.

25. Do you hate anyone now that you didn’t hate this time last year?
No. To quote Michael Jackson, I'm a lover not a fighter. Also, shamone.

26. What was the best book you read?
I quite enjoyed two books I read by Aravind Adiga: Last Man in Tower and The White Tiger.

27. What was your greatest musical discovery?
I like Craft Spells a lot.

30. What was your favorite film of this year?
Harry Potter, Muppets. Because I am 10 years old?

31. What did you do on your birthday?
I dropped Nordic Boy off at the airport so he could see his cousin in the hospital, I had lunch with Biogirl, got my beloved new camera, and got ready to go to Portland Fashion Week. It was a day full of super highs and super lows, like last year.

32. What one thing would have made your year immeasurably more satisfying?
Less activity around hospitals overall.

33. How would you describe your personal fashion concept in 2011?
I love clothes and I cannot lie, you other brothers can't deny. However, I went to New York this year and was on a budget and did not buy one thing. ONE THING. Restraint, people.

34. What kept you sane?
My peeps, hands down.

35. Which celebrity/public figure did you fancy the most?
I don't know. I hate this question. I know that every die-hard Gilmore Girls fan was feeling that strange happy/possessive feeling about Melissa McCarthy this year. You know, the so-glad-she-is-successful mixed with I-totally-knew-about-her-awesomeness-before-everyone else. Let's all collectively get over that, because I wasn't the only one watching the Gilmore Girls and neither were you. It just feels that way.

36. What political issue stirred you the most?
Japanese tsunami, Arab Spring, and the Penn State disgustingness.

37. Who did you miss?
Mom, Dad, Allison, Map, Julia, Nan, Rosita... so many people to miss. Sigh.

38. Who was the best new person you met?
My new coworkers are pretty rad.

39. Tell us a valuable life lesson you learned in 2011:
I've learned it before but I had to learn it again and it was just as hard as ever: letting go is all there is to do sometimes.

40. A song lyric that sums up your year.
I'll do that sad one I mentioned before, but then end on a happy one, because both are totally appropriate, and I am feeling hopeful about 2012 and I want to end on that. May you feel the same about the coming year.

Goodbye 2011:
Maybe we could make it all right
We could make it better sometime
Maybe we could make it happen, baby

We could keep trying but things will never change, so I don't look back
Still I'm dying with every step I take, but I don't look back

And it hurts with every heartbeat
And it hurts with every heartbeat

Hello 2012:
You don't have a clue
What it is like to be next to you
I'm here to tell you
That it is good
That it is true

Birds singing a song
Old paint is peeling
This is that fresh
That fresh feeling

Words can't be that strong
My heart is reeling
This is that fresh
That fresh feeling

Try to forget what's in the past
Tomorrow is here
Orange sky above lighting your way
There's nothing to fear

Birds singing a song
Old paint is peeling
This is that fresh
That fresh feeling

Words can't be that strong
My heart is reeling
This is that fresh
That fresh feeling

Some people are good
Babe in the 'hood
So pure and so free
I'd make a safe bet
You're gonna get whatever you need

Wednesday, December 28, 2011

Oh, you mean a holiday as in taking a holiday. I see now.

My motivation for writing on the bloggy always goes down a bit this time of year, because I feel like people probably aren't reading. What with work holidays, travelling, and the like. Do I know this from my blog stats, you ask? Do I even look at my blog stats anymore? Well, that's beside the point, is what I say. Who needs facts when my feelings tell me I can slack off? Thanks, feelings!

You know how I am always saying that when it comes to the holidays, I don't really understand what all the fuss is about? Well, during pretty much my entire adult working life, I have never taken any days off around the holidays, and this year I did. Newsflash, everyone! Not having to work for a few extra days totally makes holiday time so exciting! NOW I GET IT. See, sometimes I see the dots, but I don't always connect the dots.

I had four days off in a row this week, and it was like a relaxation bonanza going on around here. There was one day when I didn't even crack my door open to leave my house but at all. I know! Crazyballs!

On Friday as I was leaving work, Nordic Boy called to tell me that our car crapped out and so we had it towed and waited with bated breath to hear back that it wouldn't cost five zillion dollars to fix. We got it back yesterday and it was only 2 zillion dollars, so I guess our wishing should have been more specific. The time that wasn't spent wasted on highballing our wishes was pretty good. Nordic Boy cooked up a ton of awesome food, which I helped with, and it was all so delicious, and I loved it, and it was fun to make together, but honestly I am all cooked out for probably the rest of my life.

Other than that I didn't do one productive thing at all. Well, we paid bills and cleaned the house and did laundry and that type of thing, but that doesn't count. Other than that we watched movies and read books and just were complete and total shut ins. Nordic Boy didn't even work on the house. I know, WUT. Other than some time spent with Delium, we kicked it hermit style and it was awesome.

I hope that you had a great holiday, if in fact you celebrate that sort of thing. If you don't do the holidays, at least take a lesson from me. Take some days off if you can. That's the kind of holiday magic anyone can get behind.

Tuesday, December 20, 2011

Hello Talbots, and you too Chico's

Mom: I stopped over at Christopher and Banks this morning, but I didn't find anything.
Me: What store is that again?
Mom: Christopher and Banks.
Me: I've never been there. What is it? Clothes?
Mom: You've never heard of it?
Me: I've heard of it, but there isn't one here in Seattle I think. Other than maybe in the malls, and I don't go to the mall much. What kind of stuff do they have?
Mom: Oh you know. Clothes for older ladies. Like us.
Me: (silence as I slowly digest that my septuagenarian mother has now put me in her age category)
Me: Oh.
Mom: (back pedal, back pedal!) I just mean, it's not for teenagers. That's all I mean.
Me: Got it.

I guess it's time for me to stop thinking Ann Taylor is too old for me.



Saturday, December 17, 2011

Consumables #54

I checked the weather this morning and the forecast for Seattle was colder than the forecast for Wisconsin, Michigan and New York today. What kind of ridiculousness is that? Mild climate my ass. I also happened to see the local tv news the other day, and the weatherman was calling his forecast the "futurecast." Wow, so space age! And also, are we now afraid that the word forecast is too hard for people to understand? So we have to put the word future into it just to make sure we understand what is happening? What's next? Will history class be called Pastory or Old-Timey-Times or something?

I don't know. Perhaps I am just gripey because it looks like this outside.

So get this, I have further evidence that old ladyness is taking over my being. Last night I came home from work and Nordic Boy and I had a lovely dinner, followed by a little Daily Show/Colbert on the DVR, and some conversation after that. At about 9pm, we were sitting on our couch, looking at the candles in our fireplace. Nordic Boy reached over and turned the lights down to romantical levels, and within 5 minutes? I WAS ASLEEP. Can you believe that nonsense? Oh yes, I know how to keep the spark alive, people.

The holidays are totally happening, like almost now, and not only have my normal levels of non-caring about them gone on (still not interested in a tree or putting up lights or making cookies or shopping for gifts or traveling), but the one and only thing I usually do for the holidays- send out cards- has fallen by the wayside. I have not done a good goddamn about holiday cards yet, which means at this point it's probably not happening. Perhaps I shall send out Groundhog Day cards later on or something instead. I guess this is my way of telling any of you who are reading this who normally get a card from me this year that the lack of card-giving does not mean I have chopped you from the list. I'm just full on in denial about the season. Ho ho ho.

Wait, hold on. My denial is not total and complete. I have done one holiday-ish item this year. Check me out! It's a Consumable.

I decided to read some Christmasy stuff written by old Chuck Dickens. First of all, I read A Christmas Carol, which I haven't read since I was in high school. I confess I rather like Mr. Scrooge. Not so much on the being a bad boss thing, but on all the other stuff. I didn't find him to be so bad. I found him quite likeable actually. I know I sound crazyballs on this one, but hear me out. I think that I find a secret (ok maybe not so secret) glee in characters who don't understand the holidays. This is why I love Charlie Brown so much. And the Grinch too. And all those selfish city ladies in Hallmark Original Movies about the holidays. Sure, they all find the Christmas spirit at the end, but that's like, during the last 5 minutes of the story so I can almost ignore that part. The rest of the time they are all "merry who now?" I can identify, is all I am saying.

The second Dickens item I read was the short story A Christmas Tree. And holy guacamole was it a total snoozefest. Ay carumba with the on and on about the dang tree. SHUT UP, CHUCKIE. (Are you seeing why I have empathy for Ebenezer now?) I'm just saying that I don't recommend that one.

We watched Captain America, wherein he kicks Nazi ass. It was everything that you might want/expect out of a movie like that. No surprises and that was just fine with me. We also watched Helen Mirren kick Nazi ass in The Debt. Lastly I watched Funny Girl where there were no Nazis at all, thank goodness. I watched it because my friend Linda, when referring to her own outfit, used the words "ruffled shirt" and what else is one supposed to do when those words are used than think "Nick Arnestein!" and then run home and watch Babs and Omar? I was like Pavlov's dog: she said ruffled shirt and I had immediate Funny Girl cravings. And, I totally had forgotten that Frankincense Pontipee was in that movie. I want to also mention the outfit that Barbra wears that has, instead of a shoulder clasp or brooch, a full-size bunch of grapes hanging off of her shoulder, but I can't think of how to work it in so I am just going to mention it and leave it alone. Also, I love the headpieces during "His Love Makes Me Beautiful." Let's look at it together, shall we?

Have a lovely weekend!

Friday, December 09, 2011

Consumables #53

This hibernation thing is getting out of control.

My policy of saying yes to things has gone down the frigging toilet this past month. All I do is stay home, and then decide to stay home some more, with a side of staying home. To be fair, I am feeling very mentally busy lately, rather than my usual vapid self, and all this thinking and plotting and scheming takes TIME. And luckily, most of it can be done from the comfort of my own couch, preferably under a blanket. But still. I had the opportunity to go see Mark Morris last weekend and I just totally didn't feel like going, so I didn't. WHAT IS HAPPENING TO ME? Oh, and in case you were just dying with curiosity about that whole Next Phase of Life thing that I was talking about? Don't hold your breath on that one, because it turns out that planning big things takes a shit ton of time. And also, my definition of a Big Thing is probably not yours. (That's what she said).

Also, remember my policy last year of saying yes to the holidays? How I went all out (at least for me) and Kris Kringled it up? That shit is not happening this year either. I have not given the holidays one itty bitty corner of my mind this year. Not even a little. Honestly I don't really know what month it is. So what happened last year is apparently not a trend.

So, to sum up: policies are all going to shit!

My policy of consumable consuming is still on though.

Oliver Twist, by Charles Dickens. Dude, this shit was harsh! I mean, I knew what it was about, but had never read it for real, and poor Oliver gets beat up, beat down, kidnapped, starved. I would sit there and read, and Nordic Boy would say "How's Oliver doing?" and I would say "not good, man. Not good." Also, there was nothing quotable about it in quite the same way as this, one of our favorite things to re-enact in our house:

The 12 Men of Christmas
Lest you think I was going all high-minded on you with my bad Dickensian self, let me share with you the joy that is The 12 Men of Christmas, a Lifetime Original Movie starring Kristen Chenoweth and the dude from Cougartown. Kristen stars as a high-powered career gal who is lonely and loveless (surprise!). She loses her PR job when her bitchy career gal boss humps Kristen's skeezy big city boyfriend. A small town in Montana somehow gets her number and wants to hire her for a year to live there and drum up PR for tourism for their town, aka she is totally Northern Exposured. She goes to Montana and doesn't understand those crazy small towners! They volunteer, as in work without being paid, and no one in the city ever does that! She has never heard of such a thing. They also hug you when you show up for business meetings. And there is also a dickish guy who is mean and condescending to her, which is a drop dead signal that they will end up together by the end of this thing, because if you are dicky to a lady, that just shows her you are passionate and adorable. Take note, fellas! Anyway, Kristin's brilliant, completely original, never-thought-of-before idea is that the town's hot dudes will be featured in a racy calendar. So Northern Exposure has now turned into a Full Monty/Calendar Girls hybrid. And you know what? The calendar makes the town WORLD FAMOUS. And Kristen gets the man at the end (causing it to snow). Side note: you know how you can tell a Hallmark Original Holiday movie from a Lifetime Original Holiday movie? Lifetime is racier. For instance, Kristen finds herself in a situation where she happens upon a swimming pool where Cougartown man is skinny dipping. As you do. And he decides to flirt with her by getting out of the pool nude and being assy to her (both physically and metaphorically) which hey, that isn't creepy and prosecutable! And she looks him up and down and says: "not interested." and he says something like: "I bet you I can make your interest GROW." There was also a fishing lesson whereby he asks her to be gentle with the rod or some such thing. Oh, Lifetime.

Hey you guys. I just wrote four sentences about Dickens and about twenty on the 12 Men of Christmas. I should be so proud.

NOVA: Fabric of the Cosmos
Brian Green (or, as I like to imagine him, Brian Austin Green) talks trippy physics. I am also convinced that he creates a time-space distortion that is created within the confines of the show. Evidence: while I am watching it, I totally understand everything he is saying. As soon as it's over, I can't explain shit.

Lastly, just when I think I could not love Jon Stewart any more than I do, he goes and does this. I frigging love it so much.

Monday, December 05, 2011

How I can turn breadmaking into a tearjerker

There is a lot of stuff changing in my life right now, and I feel like the train is moving fast and I am holding on to the caboose for dear life, my feet flying out behind me. Most of it is stuff that I can't talk about on the bloggie (omg don't you HATE coy shit like that?) but all of a sudden Nordic Boy and I are making plans for the Next Phase in Our Lives. Doesn't that sound like a soap opera? Or the tagline for some sort of menopause commercial? Or I guess I should say menopause medication commercial. They don't really make ads for menopause itself.

And, just in case you are one of Nordic Boy's aunts out there, the Next Phase in Our Lives does not mean I am preggers.

So this weekend was full of talking and prepping and thinking and percolating. Also spreadsheets were involved. You know shit is about to get exciting when you bust out a spreadsheet! Am I right?

In other news, my parents bought Nordic Boy a present, just because he's awesome. I love the fact that my parents and Nordic Boy are so close. I am for serious, I could boohoo just thinking about it. There was a point where my dad was in the hospital a few years ago, and he was just as sick as could be, and when he came home he was too weak to walk into the house on his own, and the ambulance driver offered to lift my dad out of the vehicle, but my dad said "I'd like my son to do that please," and Nordic Boy stepped right up and carried my little dad all the way into the house, and helped him into his pajamas and got him into bed, and my dad looked at him and said "thank you, kiddo" and I could see the two of them look into each other's faces for a second, and it was a huge moment in my life, let me tell you. You can't beat that, man, you really can't.

Anyway, this is the most roundabout tangent-ridden way on earth to tell you that Nordic Boy was enamored of my folks' bread machine the last time we were there, and they up and bought him one and had it sent to our house and it has been like Christmas come early. My only fear is that Nordic Boy will now unceasingly stuff me with carbs until I burst open. I guess that's not a bad way to go.

So life planning and carbs was basically how I spent my weekend. Oh, and also last night there was a crazy scuffling sound outside our front door, and when we looked outside, there were two giant raccoons on our porch. They had made a really weird, loud noise to get our attention like that and I think they were either fighting or having racoon loving. When they saw Nordic Boy's face in the window, they both stood up and raised their arms up as if to say "you want a piece of this?" We decided that we really did not want a piece of that, and let them be. Raccoons are bad ASS.

Also, I tagged along with Nordic Boy to the bookstore. I didn't really go for my own purposes, so while he was looking for his deal, I went over to the Humor section to take a look at the new Mindy Kaling book. I feel a lot of pressure to read Mindy Kaling's book, because she is a hip Indian lady, and so I feel like I am OBLIGATED. It's like how I feel obligated to like MIA. I have two whole pop culture role models, which is two more than I ever had as a kid, so having two feels OVERWHELMING. I mean, when I was a child I liked Jacqueline Smith the best out of the Charlie's Angels because she was the DARKEST. That was about as much hope as I had in my life about people looking like me. So that is the scale I am used to, people.

Anyway, the Humor section was super crowded so I went to the next section over and read the Kaling book. Turns out the next section over was the Bible section. So me, sitting in the Bible section, laughing my guts out. Lovely.

I think I might have exceeded all bounds of randomness this time around.

Saturday, December 03, 2011


I'm becoming a first-class ditcher. But really, a book, a movie, a blanket, a couch, and a cute boy? Saturday night happiness.

- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

Friday, December 02, 2011

Yuletide Yodel

I am thinking about last weekend right now. It was a good one, but dang it seems like years ago now. I realized that I usually do a weekend roundup type dealie, and I didn't this time, so Ima do it now. I just KNOW you were all antsy in your pantsies about not knowing how my weekend was last weekend, right? I know. It was tearing you up inside.

First of all, I met up with some homies at a local drinky station. Both Nordic Boy and I were seriously dragging our asses and were perfectly primed for the last minute bail, but we pulled through and showed our faces. I am still on a grand quest to find my signature drink, and I am sorry to say that I did not find it yet. This time I sampled a Mamie Taylor. Actually I can't remember what it was I had. Which maybe is a sign that I really liked it or I really didn't. The other thing that happened was that Nordic Boy got ripped. He can hold his liquor really well so the last time I saw him in such a state was circa 1995. When we got home he ran around our house for a good half an hour singing the opening yodel from "Tonight I'm Lovin' You" by Enrique Iglesias, or as Nordic Boy insisted upon calling him: Julio Ing-Ling-ias Junior. So actually, it wasn't that different from non-drunk Nordic Boy.

Also, we stayed out that night until midnight or so. Alert the media!

Thanksgiving was a day of cooking, and eating, and watching really bad movies. Just like the pilgrims.

I rounded out the rest of the weekend by cloistering myself in my house pretty much the whole time, with one break to go over to Biogirl's house to help her put up her tree and otherwise get her yule decoration on. Although I am not a Christmas tree or decor person I do like that I know people who are and that I can participate in it to some extent. I rather like it in short bursts. Like, for an afternoon is perfect.

And now it's December, which, yikes.

Happy Friday, all. Please start it off with yodel along with Mr. Ing-Ling-ias.

Wednesday, November 30, 2011

Consumables #52

Tis the season for me to want to do nothing but read, watch movies, and take a snooze. Hence, here are some consumabley highlights.

Lightning Rods by Helen DeWitt.
I got this at Book Expo before it came out and it has been sitting on my shelf ever since, so I finally picked it up. I had no idea what it was about and had never read any DeWitt before so I had no expectations at all. Well, I am trying to think if I have ever read a weirder book than this. I am sure I have, but this one has a very specific brand of nutty that I have not experienced before. How do I even explain it? It is about a vacuum cleaner salesman who spends his spare time fantasizing about ladies in some sort of glory hole situation. So like, he can see their bottom half, but the top half is somehow not seen, like the lady is leaning out a window or something. STAY WITH ME. He then spins this fantasy into an actual prostitution business for corporate America, whereby business-dudes are provided with glory hole services in their corporate bathrooms as a motivational technique and sexual harrassment deterrent. It is a satire about corporate America, and selling ideas, and sex and gender and heterosexuality and all like that. And sure, the satire works. But still. Wow. I just keep thinking that as an author, one could write about anything. And this author was like: I shall write a scathing satire about corporate America, and the central idea upon which it will all rest? Glory holes. Okey dokey.

Crazy Stupid Love
Before I talk about this movie, let me tell you about The Golden Child. Remember that movie? It's the one where Eddie Murphy goes to Nepal and rescues a little bald asian kid who has magical powers and Charles Dance is Satan and I am not even kidding you that is really what is going on. It is just a mess. However, Eddie Murphy is charming in it, with his laugh and his funny comebacks and his leather hat. It was the first Eddie Murphy movie that I saw where I was like: no matter what the shitty premise is, somehow Eddie Murphy is still funny and likable. What kind of trick is that? Now, I am not saying that Crazy Stupid Love was as bad as The Golden Child, don't get me wrong. All I am saying is that the whole thing relied way too heavily on the fact that people like Steve Carell, and Ryan Gosling, and Emma Stone. And Julianne Moore too, I guess. Do people go crazy for Julianne Moore? I don't know. The point is, I wanted this movie to be worthy of them too, I really did. But I think it worked because they are them. Which is ok I suppose. Pet peeve: dude who is shitty to women all of a sudden becomes the perfect boyfriend when he finds The One. You think you can get away with this because it's Ryan Gosling, script-people? I see what you're trying to pull, and it won't work.

This is not a spoiler because it happens at the very beginning of the movie. It opens up with Eric Bana and his daughter Hanna (Hanna Bana! ok not really since that is his real name and her character name, but I SO WISH), who are spies in hiding. Eric has taught her everything about fighting spying and running around all stealthy because if they are ever to assimilate into society, The Bad Guys will come after her (for reasons that are explained later in the movie). Here's what I don't get, and if any of you who have watched this movie get this, please email me and explain it to me or comment or something. If and when Hanna Bana wants to assimilate back into society, she has to activate this electronic box. The box immediately alerts The Bad Guys that she is now officially assimilating back into society. My question is: why did she need to activate that weirdo box? If she wanted to assimilate and disappear and live her life, why doesn't she go do that? Why does she has to say YOOHOO I AM ASSIMILATING NOW, COME AND KILL ME to her enemies via an alert box? I so totally didn't get that. Also, on an unrelated note, if Eric Bana taught her to speak in multiple languages and know complex scientific processes and all kinds of other brainy genius stuff, how come he couldn't tell her what a remote control is? The spy training had major holes in it, is all I am saying.

I am sad that Dancing With the Stars made me like Hope Solo a little less. Not that I even really knew who she was before, other than that she plays soccer and took that nude photo. Still. I don't like it when I like someone less. Like, I was watching Anderson Cooper's talk show a little bit. I maybe watched 3 or 4 episodes. And now that is making me like Anderson less. This should not be the result of a tv show, should it? Anyway, Dancing With the Stars. That Kardashian kid over Ricki Lake? Are you joking me?

A Christmas Proposal
Tis the season for made-for-tv holiday movies. The first one I sampled this week did not disappoint. It had all the elements. (1) It starred Nicole Eggert, who no longer wants Charles in charge of her, thank you, and this other guy who looked like Patrick Dempsey, who she did want to have in charge of her. Also, Tom Arnold, who apparently is in 45% of holiday movies these days because he was in that one I watched about Saving Santaville. Let's see, what are the other elements? (2) People from the big city are horrible, selfish people. (3) Country people are good, kind people, smug in their folksiness. (4) City people can be converted back to love and light if they end up in a small town and somehow get stuck there and can't leave. (5) Horrible city people, upon conversion, cause it to snow. (6) City ladies in particular are the worst. They are career gals who hate children and kittens. (7) Country ladies wear cozy sweaters and have rosy cheeks, and often bake cookies. (8) There is some sort of Christmas deadline. The town must be saved by Christmas, in this case. There is lots of town-saving in these movies. I shall not do any spoilers by telling you if Nicole Eggert and Poor Man's Patrick Dempsey fall in love (causing it to snow) or if the town was saved or if any city people were smothered to death by Santa or anything.

Hell on Wheels
The jury is still out on whether I'll keep watching this. Lordy knows I love dramas that are set in the 1800s. It was all that Little House I watched as a child. Plus it stars Chief O'Brien, and if you don't know who Chief O'Brien is, then your nerd card is immediately forfeit. However, I think that Deadwood may have set the bar so high on 1800s drama that I am ruined forever.

I feel like that was a particularly grumpy Consumables. Let's turn it around, shall we? I watched a bunch of short films recently, and my favorite one that I watched was Lost and Found, an animated short. I loved it.

Friday, November 25, 2011

Thanksgiving 2011

Remember when I said I was going to do NaBloPoMo? And then I didn't post for two weeks? Ha ha, wasn't that a good one? I love that story.

Well, since then, Thanksgiving has come and gone. Food was eaten, movies were watched, asses were expanded. Pretty much what one might expect.

More than any other holiday, Thanksgiving makes me think about family. What family means and who in my life is in the circle. Lucky for me, I have quite a crowded circle. I am a loyal sort of person and so once you're in the circle, I am not leaving you no matter what. Ok, maybe not no matter what. If you turn into a jerk or leave me first, I let you go. But that's pretty much the only two reasons that I will stop paying attention to you. Otherwise you are in love lockdown, buster. And not in a Kanye way, in a good way, so don't be frightened. Unfortunately there have been many people that have succumbed to those two reasons, which is super sad. But there are many who haven't, year after year, through so many nutty times. They continue to love me, and be there for me, and stay present, and not let the lack of time, or the size of distance, or the changing of circumstance get in the way. Considering the craziness of all of our lives, that is quite a feat. And it's those people I think about and feel so full of thankful for on thanksfullness day. Some of these folks are related to me by blood, and most of them are not, but they are all my family.

Because everyone is so far-flung in my life, many of my peeps are not in enough proximity for us to stuff our faces while in the same room. Kind of sucks. On the bright side, I do have some most-favorite of peeps right here in the vicinity and we did get together for a full meal throwdown. At our little table this year, my relationships with these three folks adds up to 53 years of love and commitment. Come on. That's amazing.

I really have amazing people in my life. I aspire to be as awesome as they are, to not turn into a jerk, and to not leave anyone behind. With peeps like I got, they make the first one hard but the last two easy.

Sunday, November 13, 2011


I've somehow found myself at a party wearing a tiara that says zero on the front all night. Because my Sunday nights make total sense.

- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

Saturday, November 12, 2011

Jack Frost Nosing at Your Nip

I have a feeling that it's going to be a cold winter. I have no facts to base this on, and I don't even have some sort of ache or pain that can forecast weather, as apparently some people do. What is with those weather-related aches and pains? "My goiter is telling me it's going to hail tomorrow!" The Weather Channel should totally have some sort of mascot related to this idea. Like a puppet hip-bone with googly eyes on it that says "I'm aching, so get hip to the fact that we'll have rain tonight, homies!" You know, to relate to today's youth.

I am a font of dumb ideas, you guys. That is just the tip of the iceberg, you have no idea. Or should I say the hip of the iceberg? Haaaaaa.

In other wintery news, this week we pretty much only ate squash. Our CSA box is trying to turn us squashitarian I am pretty sure. I am not complaining though, because it has been tasty times. We have had butternut squash soup, and roasted delicata, and Indian Sweet Meat (dirty!) squash curry. This could get old pretty soon but so far I am loving it. We have also been having a Martha Stewart versus Deborah Madison smackdown each night, since they are our two go-to recipe people these days. So far, Deborah is winning, but Martha is scrappy. She may take over at any moment.

I am not a person who prefers the winter, never have been. This was most unfortunate when I was growing up in Michigan. There is nothing, I am sure, quite like the whine of a child whose parents came from the sunniest awesomeness on earth and ended up in the frozen midwest. Although I am now living in a much milder climate than the one in which I was raised, I am still not a huge fan of the winter months. To combat this, I shall try and list some sweet things that have happened this week that were made all the better because it is butt cold out.

1. Did I mention the squash? Let's start with the squash.
2. I met my friend Crafty Jenny for tea and warm cookies the other night. Mmmm.
3. The moon was full this week and looked so icy and silvery. Beauteous!
4. Our new furnace is rocking my SOCKS, you guys. Apparently our old one was made of ass, because it is so much nicer in our house now.
5. Our new insulated cork bedroom floors are nice and toasty. Makes it so much easier to get up in the morning.

That's all I got for now. But five is a good start right?

Wednesday, November 09, 2011

Wise Words

I one hundred percent stoled this from my friend over at Pixel and Post. I love it.

Found at YeeHaw on Etsy.

Tuesday, November 08, 2011

Extreme Not-a-makeover Home Edition

First of all, a couple of people called me out on naming anything that is required in the urban Seattle area "winter boots" in my last post. And yes, we seldom need snow gear to tromp around the puddles here, it is true. Maybe I should have called them rain boots. Consider me correcting this, lest you all think that Nordic Boy was sporting a pair of full on mukluks or what have you.
Now that we have gotten that out of the way, let's talk about two things that are basically the same but yet somehow I manage to love one of them and have a strong dislike for the other. The two things? Makeovers and "Before and After" photos.

For some reason, I am not a fan of calling something a makeover. I have no idea why. I must have had a really, really bad makeover in a past life or something. Like, maybe I was me in ancient Egypt and some ancient Egyptian spa person redid my whole look and gave me those Egyptian straight-across bangs and I was all "my forehead is too short for bangs, yo!" Because my forehead really is too short for those kind of bangs. And I assume that forehead dimensions are something that one carries from life to life. If I do really terribly in this life and come back as a dung beetle or something next time around, I assume my beetle cranium will still be equipped with a threehead.

On the other hand, I adore a set of two photos with the title "Before and After" to describe them. Same concept right? You take a picture, you change something up, you take another one. LOVE IT. I love a before and after in fashion, in interior design, in construction, in anything. I love those articles where they show you a photo of how a street looked a hundred years ago and then put the current same street view beside it. It doesn't have to be a before and after of improvement. I just like to see change over time, or circumstance, or effort. I am sure my feelings about the word makeover have something to do with commercialism, in that Charlie-Brown-Christmas sort of way. And the fact that people who do makeovers, especially on tv, seem like condescending buttholes a lot of the time. But let's not get into that, because it's tiresome.

Ever since we moved into our house, I have been in Before and After hog heaven. Nordic Boy is not the greatest at documenting his efforts, so it fell to me, and omg I LOVE IT. I have reams of photos of things that no earthly person besides me and him would ever care to see. Before the new wiring! After the new wiring! Before the caulking! After the caulking! I am not kidding. It is ba-nuts.

I take these photos, and then download them, and sometimes he and I look at them, especially when we look at our list of things still left to do and feel overwhelmed (that's mostly me, not him). It helps to look back and see, wow, actually a lot has happened already.

I feel, about these photos, like I would never subject them to other people. No one cares about our new light fixtures, I think. But then, I see how hard I salivate over other people's befores and afters, and it makes me think: maybe some of these might be fun to share? Ok, not the caulking ones (ha ha, I love saying "caulking"), but some of the other ones?

All this is to preface (SHUT UP AND SHOW THE PHOTOS ALREADY) that I might start putting some befores and afters on the bloggy. Shall I? Yes, I shall.

Let's start with a big one. When we bought our house, let's just say that we had to have a lot of Vision. It had good bones (ha ha, caulking and bones) but the other stuff was super janky. Nordic Boy knew this was our house the moment he laid eyes on it, but me? I sort of knew it, but really, I had to trust Nordic Boy's Vision. I can be Vision-impaired on things like this, especially when there is disrepair and disgusting cat pee carpet and smoke-stained yellow walls and a Jumanji yard.

One of the things that I hated about our house was the fireplace. At that point in time, we had much bigger fish to fry but I complained about that fireplace until Nordic Boy wanted to pitch a fit I am sure. Finally, he asked me what I would like the fireplace to look like. I replied that I didn't think it possible that I could EVER love that thing, no matter what happened. Nordic Boy took serious umbrage to that statement and dropped what he was doing and spent a weekend putting the fireplace problem right. Usually he will draw a picture/plan of what he is thinking so I can see it (due to my lack of Vision) but this time he didn't, and that was ok because I trust his aesthetic, and I trust that he knows mine, and actually those two things have a lot of overlap. Can I just tell you that I can't imagine being with someone who didn't understand my aesthetic? Like, if he all of a sudden wanted all white wicker furniture or something? That would be grounds for dismissal.

Please do not hate me, white wicker lovers. It is just not my thing, but it's ok that it is yours. Go forth and wicker yourself to your heart's content, by all means.

Anyway. Here's what it looked like when we moved in. It was a Pa Ingalls hot mess.

Here it is today.

That is my first before and after. More to come? I think? Maybe next time I shall show you some damn fine caulk.

Monday, November 07, 2011

After the boots of summer have gone

Monday. Blah. Here's my list of what's in my brain today.

1. I kind of want to do NaBloPoMoBloJoHo (I just like to add that last part on there because I am juvenile), and started to do it last week, but that didn't last very long. I guess I am still trying, if it even makes sense to do that. Just set your expectations way way low on that one though. Dial it all the way down.

2. The weather has turned. The best we can hope for is some blue sky every once in a while, but we know those days are numbered as well. This weekend, Nordic Boy started wearing his winter work boots while doing up his carpentry rigamarole in his shop. "The days for summer boots are gone," he said. Then we sang the chorus of Don Henley's "Boys of Summer" with the words "boots of summer" inserted, because that's how we do around here.

3. I have a new phone. I now need a new phone holder thing. I am having trouble finding one that meets my own personal design specifications. I came back from a shopping trip and Nordic Boy asked me if I found a phone case, and I said I didn't see any that I liked, and he said "I think we're starting up another pencil cup situation here." Because I spent three years looking for a pencil cup that met my aesthetic needs. And I never found one. So I just decided that I didn't need a pencil cup. And Nordic Boy never once said to me "IT IS JUST A PENCIL CUP GET OVER IT." Because he knows a battle that can't be won, plus he is nice to me like, all the time. Anyway, maybe I can just be really careful with my new phone?

4. I spent part of my weekend browsing some stores for wintery clothes. I have trouble with wintery clothes, mainly because I am not a fan of bulk, but I am also not a fan of being cold. My solution to this problem has been to just wear summer/spring/fall clothes which solves the bulk issue but doesn't solve the being cold issue. Between this and the pencil cup thing and the phone case thing I really find myself unbearable sometimes. It does save me money though, since impulse buying is sort of out.

5. Biogirl and I had a full on therapy session over the weekend about the remakes of Dirty Dancing and Footloose. In the conversation the following phrase was said: "YOU SIR, are no Kevin Bacon!" I think we can all adopt that phrase in a multitude of situations.

6. Biogirl, who has been coveting the Norm-in-Cheers status of "regular" for many years, finally got her wish at the brunch joint we frequent. We go there almost weekly, so it's about bloody time they recognize us. They knew her name! And what she wanted to order! It was a grand day in her life. I was glad to be there to witness.

7. We had dinner with our friends HVDM and her husband J. Afterward, we came over to my house and played Outburst. I was seriously off my game and this was evidenced by the following. I could not name all ten Robert Redford movies on the dang card, and I couldn't name off ten Shakespeare plays. What the eff, me? I might as well have forgotten the alphabet as far as I am concerned.

8. I finally signed up for pinterest. Let me know if you're on it too and I'll follow you.

9. It was Alli's birthday yesterday. There are a few things that make me feel melancholy around this time of year, and not being there for Alli's birthday is always one of them. We always did birthday shenanigans when we were kids! How dare she grow up and move away! Wait, that was me that moved away. I hate it when I have to blame myself for my own whining.

10. YOU SIR are no Kevin Bacon! I just wanted to say that again.

Thursday, November 03, 2011

The Ultimate Reminder

I was sitting at my desk at work, juggling too many things. Too many windows open on my desk top, too many lists going on at once. An IM pops up on my screen. As I chat with my co-worker, I realize I have forgotten to do something for her that I said I would do.

"Poop!" I think to myself.

I turn to write down, on my to-do list, this thing that I should do for my co-worker. I write it down, only I don't write down what the task is. Instead I write down what I had said to myself in my head. Which was, let us reiterate: "Poop!"

I wrote Poop on my to-do list.

A few minutes later, I looked at my to-do list and realized what I did. It totally looks as though I had to make a note to myself to remind myself to do a deuce.

The classiness just blows you away, don't it?

Wednesday, November 02, 2011

Merce-y Me

Last week, Nordic Boy and I went to see the Merce Cunningham Legacy Tour. How to describe Merce Cunningham to non-dancey folks? That's a tough one. Let's just say that he was super prolific, his work was super brilliant, and to probably most people out there, his stuff is very, very deeply weird.

If you know something about ballet, and modern, and how they started to mush all together in the mid-twentieth centrury, Merce is totally fascinating. Where he took ideas about collaboration and autonomy of form and musicality (or lack thereof) can boggle a mind for sure. I happen to enjoy his work on its face, but I also enjoy it almost more for the ideas he's executing. I feel, when I watch his work, the same way that I feel reading a really dense piece of literature. It makes my brain hurt with everything that is going on- so many levels, it's just OUCH. I want a rewind button so I can go over parts of it again and again to figure it out, much like re-reading a passage in a book because the first time it's just WUT. In a good way.

I have a thing I do when I see dance in person, on tv, wherever. If I am engaged in what's happening, I sit on the edge of my seat, literally. I lean forward and stare. It's annoying I am quite sure. But I don't think there is anything on earth that makes me pay more attention than watching a kick ass dance. And Merce has me in that state.

That said, if you don't know what you're looking at, or even if you do, his shit is wacko looking. I would fully expect people to watch it and roll their eyes and giggle. I don't blame you, really. It looks strange. The music is strange. If I didn't know what I know, I would think it was coo coo for cocoa puffs.

When we were at the show last week, there were these two ladies that were sitting behind us, and I don't know what they thought they were there to see, but clearly they weren't expecting the nutty cha cha that was in process in front of their faces. After each piece, there would be a short pause, maybe of about 5 minutes. During this five minutes, these two ladies, who were apparently raised in the school of If You Can't Say Something Nice Don't Say a Goddamn Thing, tried to find something nice to say. The first pause went like this.

Lady #1: Well.
Lady #2: Yes. Well.
Lady #1: I, um. That was interesting.
Lady #2: Yes. Yes it was.
Lady #1: I thought the costumes were cute.
Lady #2: Me too! Definitely.

The costumes, let me point out, were plain off-white unitards. That is it. Pause #2?

Lady #1: Wow, that was just... great.
Lady #2: Sure. It really was.
Lady #1: They really must have to train a lot, huh?
Lady #2: I'm sure they do. Did you see their calves?

Calves. And costumes. You could just hear the strain in their voices. They wanted to yell out WHAT THE EFF AM I LOOKING AT, THESE PEOPLE LOOK LIKE THEY ARE HAVING FITS, but they were too refined for that. It was adorbs. I sort of loved those ladies.

During the show, there were a couple of points where I too reached my limit of weird. I can sustain a lot of weird, but Merce got me twice. Here's how.

First of all, there was a soprano who accompanied the first piece, and she was singing some crazy shit. It was like free jazz, only more free. No melody, no words. There was high, low, gutteral, and everything in between. She even had sound effects with her- she held up a jack in the box to her microphone at one point, and honked a horn at another point. It was kooky, but I was into the dance, it didn't matter. Go crazy, kooky lady, I can handle this. Until a really weird sound came over the mic, and I was like oh no she isn't, and I looked over and people! She was straight up GARGLING into the microphone. Holding a cup of water, head tipped back, holding a gargly note.

My weirdometer broke on that one. To paraphrase Meatloaf: I WOULD DO ANYTHING FOR DANCE, BUT I CAN'T DO THAT.

I could not go with the gargling.

The second time my concentration was breached was during a point where a bunch of dancers were out on stage, jumping in a disjointed manner, all separate and deceptively random. The music was also dissonant and random, with sounds that included car horns and doorbells. Nordic Boy leaned up to me, in all my seated-at-the-edge-of-my-chair seriousness, and whispered: "Oh we are so doing this dance when we get home." Dudes, it was FUNNY. It was like when Jerry Seinfeld put his Pez dispenser on his knee at the piano show and Elaine got the giggles. I was Elaine. I am sure all the fancy dance people were appalled.

Anyway, despite these things, I loved the show. RIP, Merce. Thanks for the intellectually, artistically challenging wackness.

Tuesday, November 01, 2011

Consumables #51

I have never really understood it when people have told me that they lose touch with someone close to them, and then they just keep putting off and putting off calling them or sending them an email because it's been so long that they feel all this pressure to explain where they have been and to catch them up on every last thing that has happened in the interim, which will take a long time, and so then they put it off some more, and on and on. So much pressure we put on ourselves, people! There is enough pressure out there. Don't pile more on. Just get in touch with that person and say hey, what's up? I miss you. Also, lots of stuff has happened, but we'll get to that eventually. How are you?
If you promise to work on that one, I promise to work on one of my neuroses. Like how I sometimes think I talk too much. (Let's not all point to this bloggy as evidence that my powers of motor-mouthing might not be an unwarranted fear).
All of that is to say that I feel like I haven't done a Consumable in a while (like a whole month, egads) and rather than try to do a laundry list of all of the totality of the sum of everything for the past month, I'll just give you some greatest hits.
Nanjing Requiem, by Ha Jin
Hey, want to know what a horrifying time and place is? Nanjing, China in 1937, that's when. Ha Jin tells the fictionalized story of the for-real person named Minnie Vautrin, an American woman who worked as the dean of a college in Nanjing who ends up running a refugee shelter for more than 10,000 women and children during the town's invasion and afterwards. Jin's writing is his usual spare, straightforward language- no stylizing it up. To some this might seem like he's treating the subject too clinically- showing us what happened, period. To others, this style may hit the right chord of documentary-like candor. I felt both ways about it, which is so typical and tiresome of me, I know.
Hark! A Vagrant!, by Kate Beaton
Kate Beaton rocks it with her comics, for sure. She does funny commentary on everything from Jane Austen to Disraeli to Wonder Woman. She does make me feel terribly guilty that I don't understand the comics that have to do with Canadian politics. How is it that I know so little about Canadian politics? I feel like I know about politics. I even feel like I know about world politics. But yet, I realize with the Canucks, I have been remiss. I know NOTHING, it seems. I am that horrible neighbor who doesn't know what is going on right next door. So my reading her book went like this: ha ha! Funny! What does that one mean GUILT GUILT. Ha ha! Good one! Is that a Canadian politician? I have no idea who that is GUILT GUILT. So you should totally read it, just don't be like me, meaning (a) don't be a dumbass about Canada, and (b) if you are, don't sit there and feel bad about it the whole time.
In the TeeVee!
The Walking Dead
I really want the storyline to move faster. Too slow, zombies! I think I would enjoy this more if I waited for them on Netflix or whatever and just watched them all in a row.

The Sorceror's Apprentice was on tv the other day, and I didn't even watch it but it brought me joy as any reference to this movie always does, because it reminds me of the time that Alli's husband Chris called it "The Wizard's Intern." Hee!

Documentary about energy production, and hey, it ain't depressing. I know this deviates from my usual diet of depressing documentaries, but everyone's got to break out of the mold sometimes.

I watched this one again and it's still awesome. Nick was such a boozehound, wasn't he? And Nora with her ridiculously fancy dressing gowns. And the repartee, so loverly.
Could that really be it for anything that I want to say about my month? I guess so.
Laters, my pretties!

Monday, October 31, 2011


Here is what I have decided about Halloween. I love it when I can make decisions on things.

What I have decided is that I love costumes. Love them. On other people. I feel like I want to love them for me, but I really actually don't love them for me though, which for a long time now I have been fighting with myself about. Costumes bring together many things that I love in my life: art, creativity, humor, spooky aesthetics! I should, in theory, be all over this holiday. But yet, every year I find myself doing something lame like wearing a regular everyday 60s-ish wrap-dress, slapping on a fake nametag and calling it a flight attendant costume. I go to costume parties dressed pretty much like myself but trying to call it something else. I am so that person. I don't know why, but coming up with a costume idea is torture for me, let alone dedicating time to getting something together.

My friends go all out for Halloween, and throw the type of parties that are not costume-optional. You wear a costume, mandatory. Bossy friends I have, I know, but thems the breaks. So this year, you know what I did? I stayed home. It was kind of sad that I missed the fun (omg can you believe I just tried to pull that? To make you feel sorry for me on that stupid crap?), but I just couldn't be Half-Ass Halloweener this year. Throw in the fact that getting Nordic Boy into a costume can only be described as an annual "being a good sport but honestly could so totally do without this shit" situation and really. What is the point.

So, this Saturday we eschewed all invites (and the count on Halloween parties was really high this year so we felt extra Scroogey) and stayed home and watched movies. GOD WE ARE OLD FOGEYS.

Other fun activities this weekend included attending a Diwali party, hanging out with Delium, helping our friend A move her furniture to her new digs, and spending lots of cozy time (it is getting to be a tit bit nippley outside, dudes, winter is coming) under a blanket on the couch with my dude.

Oh, and the highlight of it all was going to the Nordic Heritage Museum to see their Nordic Fashion Exhibit. I have many things I could say about this exhibit but I shall limit to three things. One: the clothes were awesome. Go Nordics! Two: there are other exhibits that are also awesome, having to do with Nordic immigration to this country. However, those exhibits had lots of mannequins in sort of diorama-type situations (is it still called a diorama if it is life-size?) which made me really really glad that I did not have to spend the night inside the museum Ben Stiller style because those dioramas coming to life? GAH. Creepfest. Three: we got there and the ticket lady told us we were more than welcome to take photos which made me grumpy that I hadn't brought my camera to play with, so here are some phone camera shots instead.

Wednesday, October 26, 2011


This weekend, I went to a super fun dinner party where we ate soup and told scary stories and played a rousing game of Celebrity (which our team, named Syphilitic Spam because apparently we are disgusting people, totes won). I have been a little out of the party loop lately (my policy of saying "yes" to invitations was getting sloppy, I admit it, but I have a new furnace and my house is co-zizzy these days) but the upside of hibernating for a short while is to show up at something and remember all over again how awesome my pals are. Look at that! Cool people! If only I remember to leave my house! My say yes policy has been refreshed. Plus I got to do a Bruce Lee in charades whereby I kicked my leg up and maybe showed the party goers my bloomers. So that's always fun.

On Saturday and Sunday I was treated to not one but two brunches by different friends. I also spent Saturday having a full hangout day with Biogirl, which is one of my most favorite things evah. We browsed DSW and went for gelato and looked at purses and jewelries and got stuck in traffic (yes, even the traffic part was fun) and then joined Nordic Boy for dinner where he told us a long involved story about bad home improvement that had us in stitches. That dude is funny, you guys. Sunday Nordic Boy and I hung out with our dear Delium. Delium is delightful and I shall provide an example. He told me that he had been at our house the day before, eating lunch with Nordic Boy. During the lunch, he said that he had, along with his sandwich, a dill pickle EVENT. The event was that we didn't have his favorite brand of dill pickles. We had some other brand. And our brand? Was totally acceptable! I am totally delighted by the fact that this story was (a) drawn out into an actual story and (b) was labeled an EVENT. He is not one to shy away from making! everything! exciting! I love it.

I had sort of let go of the idea of birthdayness this year, happily so. There were too many other more important things going on that needed attention, and cheerleading for my own birthday has gotten a little tiresome in the past few years (I try not to be annoyed by my own self, but it's hard). But even without me pushing the idea of overt birthdayness, it was a good month. Biogirl went all out for me, which was delightful, but she always goes all out for me. Overall, nothing was a big departure from non-birthday months, but that is totally the beauty of it. I felt loved this month, the same as I do other months. I'll stick with that plan over the long haul, if I'm lucky.

Monday, October 24, 2011


We can Peaches and Herb it, y'all! My camera and I were REUNITED on Thursday evening! It was at a restaurant I had been at a few days before. I still feel like a fecking eejit about it so let's just pretend it never happened, ok? That would be wunderbar.

Let's looky at some photos of the day that Alli, Map, Biogirl and I went to Whidbey Island. We saw sand, and dang it was windy, and there was pie, and we came upon a group of crazy-serious older gents who were way into their remote control toy sailboats. Oh my it was eventful.

Thursday, October 20, 2011

I seriously did NOT just do that

Hey you guys, I figured out how to make my heart stop and my stomach feel barfy and horrible, just from stress! Want to hear about it?

I have many potential stressors in my life, as does everyone. Lucky for me, I don't have a stressy constitution, just naturally. The daily stuff like bad traffic or rude people or getting a bad night's sleep? Piece of cake. The things that cause me the most stress in my life are the Biggies. Like when I was pretty sure that I was going to get laid off last year. But the stress of that sort of thing was not a heart-pounding, barfy sort of stress. I think it was because that shit (waiting for the news) went on and on and on, for months. I just couldn't sustain barfy for that long. The stress was more an impending sense of doom in the back of my mind at all times. Still stressful and probably not healthy, but I never felt like I was going to pass out or anything. Same with family members going through Big Health stuff. Again, it goes on for months and sometimes years, so the stress gets stretched out.

So this morning I was getting ready for work, and all of a sudden I had this thought: where the mothereffer is my new camera? My gorgeous, lovely, brand new, super expensive very generous gift that I got not two weeks ago?

And I looked around, and didn't see it, and then the barfy feelings became SERIOUS, y'all. I mean, really. It was ACUTE PUKEY.

I asked Nordic Boy if he'd seen it. He said nope. Then we proceeded to tear our house apart. It was like a police raid up in there. I went outside in my pajamas and looked in the trunk of my car. We looked in every closet, every room, every shelf.

Here's the thing about my house. It's small. And we don't have very much stuff. Which means that it's kind of impossible to misplace things. If it's not pretty much immediately apparent, then it's just not there.


I retraced my steps. Tried to remember the last time I took it out. Tried not to think about the fact that Nordic Boy and my parents forked over a lot of scratch for something that I promptly lost in a matter of days.

Here is my recipe for panic: an extravagant item, bought by other people, for me, a bonafide cheapskate, and I misplace it. TORTURE.

I know I had it in my house on Saturday night. And I think I took it with me to a restaurant on Sunday. I'm calling the restaurant when it opens today and PLEASE BABY JEBUS make my camera be there. Because if I really truly lost that thing?


Wednesday, October 19, 2011

Big League Pals

They came, we laughed, they left. Here are some highlights.

1. Alli was on some sort of nostalgic gum kick all weekend. She emerged from my neighborhood convenience store with a bag of Big League Chew, which is sort of disgusting, you guys, despite our memories to the contrary. And then she bought us Fruit Stripe gum. I don't know what was up with all the kiddie gum, but shee-yoot. Certain childhood foods? Are FOUL.

2. We got into a whole thing about bad euphemisms that are used in romance novels for man junk, and I brought up the one that was discovered in a book at a beach house I rented once: "man root." The hilarity that ensued for Map about this term was boundless. It was all "man root" this, and "man root" that for the rest of the trip. I am so glad I brought that joy into her life.

3. Somehow, the question of what one would most like to bathe in, if one had to bathe in a food or beverage, came up. As it does. We pretty much agreed that chocolate pudding is what you want in that sort of a scenario. Feel free to steal that idea if the situation is ever presented to you. Our think tank has done all the brain work on that. You're welcome.

4. Map's birthday is in September, mine is in October, and Alli's is in November. We called up Alli's sister Steph and ordered us up one of Steph's much touted birthday songs. I have been hearing about these improvised birthday songs for a long time, but have never been given the gift. Oh. My. I wish I had audio to share with you. Steph did a sultry jazz number on speaker phone for us that consisted of the words "Happy Buhth-day, choo shoo choo" that almost made me puke laughing. It went on for a few minutes, and as soon as it was over, Steph's foreign exchange student apparently came into the room to ask if she was ok. You know a song is freaking awesome if people think you are injured while it's happening.

5. Nordic Boy and the three of us got our major dance on playing Just Dance on the Wii. If I had an exchange student I am fairly sure they would have skipped asking us if we were ok and just called 911.

6. In the morning when I heard Alli and Map were awake, I would slip out of my bed and go crawl into theirs, and we would talk ourselves awake. There are three people in the world I have done that with consistently in my life, and they were all in my house this weekend.

7. We took the ferry to Whidbey for an afternoon with Biogirl, and having my three favorite ladies all together made me really, really happy.

8. I dropped them both off at the airport on Monday and pretty much cried all the way home. I grew up with them five minutes away, and the fact that they are so far away now? I don't think I will ever, ever get used to that.

Friday, October 14, 2011

I'm Coming Over

I remember this night, when I was in high school, when I had a big paper due for English class the next day, and I hadn't even started it yet. This was totally and completely how I treated every assignment in high school so I don't know why I particularly remember this night. It was like 9 or 10pm, and my friend Map called me. I sat on my bedroom floor, looking at my notes as I talked to her. Let me try and recreate the very eloquent conversation we had.

Her: What are you doing?
Me: I have to do that fucking paper for tomorrow.
Her: Have you started it?
Me: Nope.
Her: I'm coming over.

About a month or two ago, I was feeling lonesome. I couldn't really put my finger on what I was lonesome for, since I have friends and peeps and lovelies all around. I happened to put on my Facebook page that I was feeling that way, like an ambiguous lonesome Bat signal. You know what happened? Within an hour, Alli and Map, all the way from Chicago and suburban Detroit, responded by saying, essentially: "We're coming over."

By the end of that day, a date was set, plane tickets were bought, and that was that. Vague sense of lonliness: over and out. I love those two. Love, love, love them.

Last weekend, when Nordic Boy had to hop on a plane in a hurry, I called up Alli and Palindrome and told them: Nordic Boy will be landing at O'Hare. He might need you. Get ready if he needs to come over.

Then Biogirl came over and took me to Portland. When I got back, I sat in my house and worried about Nordic Boy. Delium called me up and said: I'm coming over. While he was here, my friend M showed up at my door with a box of fancy macaroons to cheer me up and wish me a happy birthday, totally unexpected.

Look at all that I'm Coming Over-ness. It's kind of amazing.

This got me thinking about the whole idea of telling someone you're coming over. Completely uninvited, but so confident in the mutual love that you know that the other person would like nothing more than your barging in. I have a few people in my life that I do that with, and I know that I'm lucky about that. I have a few more that I wish I could do that with, but I'm not confident about that mutual love thing, so I don't. Maybe I should be braver, but it's hard.

Anyway. I'm going to pick up Alli and Map at the airport today. If you get a minute, think about your "I'm coming over" people. Aren't they awesome?

Tuesday, October 11, 2011

In My Fashion

Many fabulous things happened on my birthday weekend. One, Nordic Boy and my parents chipped in to buy me a new, fancy (well, fancy to me) camera. I AM IN HOT SWEATY LOVE WITH IT.

Unfortunate downside is that I have become a person who only looks at other people or myself like this.

Thusly, now I will likely run off at the mouth AND at the lens at you. Aren't you so excited?

Another downside is that I may think it would be really fun to take America's Next Top Model style photo shoots where I practice my Kim Kardashian poses, and I may force you to play along with me. And then I may fuck up the whole thing by not yet understanding how to work the damn fancy camera.

All of the coerced posing and silly blue steel faces! For what? For a nice clear look at a table top surface. Clearly I am a photographic genius.

The second awesome thing about the weekend was that Biogirl swept me off my feet to Portland and we went to the final runway show of Portland Fashion Week. What's that you say? Do I have photos? Oh mais oui.

The whole thing was in a shipyard. I kept looking for Frank Sebotka everywhere.

If you haven't ever been to a runway show before, here's my advice. Before they open the doors to seating, try to position yourself somewhere where you can see the models practicing their walks. Catching a glimpse of designer's assistants (often nerdy looking dudes) coaching them a la Miss J is worth the price of admission.

My other advice is that there are basically two places you can be for the best view. One is the front row. You have to be a high roller for that though, or be some sort of celebrity, or both. At this show, the most fascinating character we spotted was this Sam-Elliot-in-The-Big-Lebowski guy sitting front row center. He was surrounded on both sides, as well as in the row behind him, by young fashionista ladies. They were fawning all over him. Who was that guy? 

Biogirl and I concocted a whole backstory about him. We'd like to think that he is a high end leather wholesaler and that he is close personal friends with Stella Who Loves Leathah from Project Runway.

The second best place to be is the cheap seats. I am totally not just saying that because that's where you will definitely find me. I am saying it because it's really the best place to see everything. The"cheap seats" will get you the privilege of standing behind the back row of chairs, smooshed in where there is hardly any room at all and you will have to watch yourself or you may just fall off the back of the riser upon which you are precariously standing. Whoever said fashion is not comfort was someone who was standing in the back row. But truly it is the best because you can see right over everyone's head.

Anyway, here are some shots.

The whole thing was just delicious, I can't even tell you. Biogirl: birthday saver. As well as a mean catwalker herself.