When I was back in Michigan this month, I had a chance to go to a party where there were friends of mine with whom I went to elementary school, middle school, high school. It was at Allison's mom's house.
1. Emily and I sneaked into the kitchen before lunch was ready and pilfered some mini spinach pies to chomp on, because it smelled delicious and we were starving. Allison's mom yelled at us to get the hell out of her kitchen until she was ready. We scurried out, laughing like we were 12 years old.
2. Allison and Steph told a hilarious story about when they went to Obama's inauguration and the travel logistics broke down. They kept calling other groups of people "those yahoos" and I thought about how I say that phrase too, but I don't hear it from my Seattle friends very much. Do Seattle people say "those yahoos"? Not in my experience.
3. Everyone was loud, jovial, warm, and hugged me as though they just saw me yesterday even though some of them haven't seen me in at least 10 years, and hugged Nordic Boy even though they don't know him from the side of a barn.
I totally kept thinking to myself, in a wistful sort of way: THESE ARE SO TOTALLY MY PEOPLE.
I also got to spend a lot of time at my parents' house in Michigan.
1. My nephew started to sneeze and then plugged his nose to stop it from coming out. My mom said "don't do that! Your face will blow up!" which caused him to fall on the floor laughing.
2. Four little kids piled on top of my teeny tiny dad, all wanting to sit on his lap at the same time, and his arms seemed strangely capable of gathering them all up in one big ball of rugrat.
3. My brother, whose official title should be Most Rambunctious Uncle In the Universe, played Bloody Murder with all the kids in the yard at dusk. Screeching and giggling noises throughout the neighborhood at dinner time, every night.
4. My sister and brother, with their inside jokes, and me, the little sister, still not getting what they are talking about even after all these years. That's ok if they're cliquey though, because my cousin Rosita and I are sort of the same way.
5. My relatives from New Zealand, Fiji, Australia, calling on the phone and us all passing the phone around, as we always do when we're home at the same time. Me missing them all so much it sort of hurts.
This family? My people.
When I got back to Seattle, I've gone out with different library buds for drinks, dinners, and lunches.
1. Look at all the cute dresses on all the cute librarians. So delightful.
2. We talk about work, and books, and movies, and Big Ideas and Philosophy. Ooh la la. There are many things that make all of us say What. The. Fuck? And so we do. Say it a lot.
3. We walk around this city and we all revel in the sheer gorgeousness of it all, and we eat a lot of amazing food. And there are sparkling skyscrapers. And mountains. And trees.
4. We are going through a big bad budget time this year, and people cry when it gets too much and the rest of us hug them.
And wait, maybe THESE are my people.
And then I go back to work, and I get into my daily grind and Nordic Boy gets into his. Me: work work work. Him: Work work work.
1. Biogirl and I manage, even though we are busier than SNOT, to text and call each other throughout the day with updates on the minutia of our lives that probably mean nothing to anyone but us. How did that meeting go? And did you get a chance to eat lunch? And my coworker just told me the funniest thing.
2. When Nordic Boy goes to Portland this week and I have to work late, Delium calls me up and tells me that he'll pick up dinner for us both and to just come over after work and not worry about finding dinner on my own. We then eat pad thai and laugh until we want to die even though my day had just been shit on a stick.
3. I'll listen to a sweet mix tape (CD, but whatever, I call it a mix tape) from Jeanine. And Maddie's tweets will crack me up. And I'll get a nice email from another blog friend, I'm sure, since you guys are awesome and you check in every so often.
4. Our other friends make us all dinner reservations, and yet more dear ones invite us over. These are all people who think of us and go out of their way. Who make an effort, consistently. Who never let their lives get in the way of remembering to include us.
Those are completely my people.
Nordic Boy is coming home from Portland this afternoon.
1. I know when I get home he'll hug me until my spine kind of cracks. In a good way.
2. I know we'll probably get take out and talk each other's ears off. Although we talk a lot while he's away, we always have so much to say when he gets back, as if we hadn't been talking at all for a while.
3. I know that he'll fall asleep before I do, and that I'll listen to him breathing before I finally go to sleep. I also know that he'll wake up before I do, and kiss me awake.
He's for so totally sure my people.
I've got a lot of people, people. How lucky is that?
Belonging
Consumables #27
The American
On our Midwest trip, Nordic Boy and I had a little over 24 hours to spend in Chicagoland before heading to Michigan. Most of that time we spent with Alli and Chris, but there was an afternoon when they were otherwise occupied and we had to find something to do on our own. Cue TORRENTIAL DOWNPOUR. We bundled up, borrowed an umbrella, and left their house determined to walk around Chicago a little. After about 30 seconds, we said fuck THAT and ducked into a movie theater (Seattle-ites! Skerred by rain!). The theater was ginormous and we were literally the only people there. It was kind of a perfect afternoon movie theater experience. The movie was quiet, and looked so beautiful- the kind where I could have watched it with no sound at all. I don't know whether I loved the movie, or whether I loved the afternoon so much that it made me love the movie. Either way, it was nice.
Girl in Translation, by Jean Kwok
Good descriptions of how a immigrant child who is learning English experiences school.
Stiltsville, by Susanna Daniel
I appreciated what this book was doing, but I don't know that I loved it. It chronicled the mundane details that make up love and marriage, and I appreciated the idea and how the idea was executed, but mundane can be sort of mundane. But I get the point, and I liked the point.
Super Sad True Love Story, by Gary Shteyngart
Shteyngart takes current social trends like the erosion of privacy and the take-over of social networks by corporate interests and exaggerates them to the point where the world he creates is batty. Only really, it wasn't that batty to me. It wasn't that big of a stretch to imagine that world being real, which I guess is one of the scary points he's making.
I've spent a lot of time with my various nieces and nephews this past couple of weeks. And it is totally because of them that I can't get this DANG SONG out of my head, for the life of me. THX KIDS!
Lastly, (way to bury the lead, lady) BIOGIRL IS TOTALLY MOVING TO A HOUSE ON MY STREET SOON. Now our co-dependency can be GEOGRAPHICAL. This news may have made the both of us do something like this.
NEIGHBORS, BETCHES.
No Scoop for You!
When I was little, there was this thing that little girls like I was would do when we would go swimming at the neighborhood pool. It was just called "tea party." You got with your friends and swam to the bottom of the pool, and then sat in a circle on the pool floor for a second or two. I always thought of this as maybe the dumbest game ever. There were many things about swimming that I never really understood, in terms of fun levels. This was on the top of that list. Why was that supposed to be fun?
Anyway, when you're a kid, the bottom of the pool seems like a far place to get to. And in that few seconds when you sit on the bottom of the pool, everything about being up on dry land seems like another world entirely.
I don't know how to explain the last two weeks, but that is what it felt like to me. Like I was in another place, totally disconnected from my real life. Dunked in vacation. Mostly in a good way. Mostly.
And now...I'm back. It feels really sudden. What am I supposed to be doing again? Making sure my bills are paid? Going grocery shopping? Showing up for work where I am responsible for stuff? Whut?
On Saturday night, I went out for dinner and drinks with some ladyfriends of mine. After the drinky dinnery fun, a few of us decided to walk over to Molly Moon's ice cream place for a scoop. As usual for that place, the line was out the door, with people leisurely soaking up the last bits of summer night weather, chatting, laughing, just having a peaceful night. As were we. Until we got to the front of the line and were immediately shoved into CRAZYTOWN.
There were two scooping professionals, a man and a woman. And they were screaming at people! About ice cream procedure!
Woman: I CAN HELP THE NEXT PERSON OVER HERE!
My friend Jen walked over to her. Since Biogirl and I were paying together, we waited for the next station to be open. Um, wrong idea.
Man: (pointing at Jen and looking at us) ARE YOU WITH HER?
Us: Nope, we're paying separately.
Man: BUT ARE YOU WITH HER???
Us: Um, no?
Man (accusingly, stil pointing at her) ARE YOU TRYING TO TELL ME THAT YOU HAVE NO RELATIONSHIP TO THAT WOMAN WHATSOEVER?
Us: Well, uh, yes, we know her, I mean, we came in together, I...
Man: (pointing at us) YOU NEED TO GET OVER THERE WITH HER!!
So we ran over there. And I mean we ran. Because we were frightened.
But when we got there, the other lady was doing the same shit!
Woman: (rapid fire talking with a megaphone voice) DO YOU NEED A TASTE OF SOMETHING?
Biogirl: The peach basil flavor, please.
Woman: (to me) AND YOU!? DO YOU NEED A TASTE OF SOMETHING?
Me: No, I--
Woman: WHAT DO YOU WANT?
Me: Um, I, oh! I guess, um,
Dudes, this is when we all started to laugh. Me, Jen, and Biogirl, that is. The lady did not laugh. She looked like she wanted to kill us all for holding up the superfasticecreamline.
Me: Strawberr--
Woman: CUP OR CONE?
Me: Cup?
Woman: WHAT DO YOU WANT?
Biogirl:
Biogirl hesitated for maybe 4 seconds. Jen and I nervously giggled at each other, but inside I was like Biogirl for the love of GOD please say a flavor or we are TOAST.
Biogirl: Chocola--
Woman: CUP OR CONE?
Biogirl: Cup! I think! I don't know! Cup!
When this was done, we ran out of there with our ice creams. This was like the Soup Nazi from Seinfeld, except scarier. I mean, really. "ARE YOU TRYING TO TELL ME THAT YOU HAVE NO RELATIONSHIP TO THAT WOMAN WHATSOEVER?" What type of ice cream related scenario could ever warrant that statement to be said at all, much less in a Jack Nicholson you-can't-handle-the-truth bark?
It was weird, you guys.
Royal Oak, MI
Just had dinner with my favorite relative and snapped this photo outside the restaurant.
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Flint Coney
Lunch in Flint town with my hometown ladies at an old haunt.
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And they're off!
36 hours in Chicagoland. Next stop: the Land of Neverending Foodstuffs.
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Sticky wicket
Chicagoland. You are one hot town. I happen to love hot weather so I am good with it. My hair gets extra boofy and I don't even need moisturizer, which most people would consider cons but I enjoy. The breeze offa the lake is also a nice touch. Now, if only you could stop your residents from that infernal car honking behavior, we would have ourselves a downright lovely place. Hot weather? Ok. Honking? Please stop.
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Three State Tour
We're tooling around the Midwest at breakneck speed, people. It's sort of a blur so far. This is a family-only trip and we're trying to see as many blood relations as we can so it's back to back breakfasts, brunches, and dinners. We don't even have gigantic families, so I don't even understand how those of you who do even figure out logistics.
Today we're having our first few minutes of calm while we stop in the outer hinterlands of Chicagoland at Alli's house. (And ok so she's not a blood relation but she might as well be).
Ima try to keep the blog rolling as we go. We'll see if I'm successful, but your doubting me is probably smart.
Three things of note to report:
1. Our hotel for the past two nights decided to upgrade us, at no extra cost, to a Presidential Suite. It was at the top of a spiral staircase and majorly fancy. Of all the primo amenities, the one i need to tell you about is how they kept bringing us hot chocolate chip cookies fresh from the oven. Like, without us even asking. Because that's how the presidents do it, baby.
2. On the other end of the fanciness scale, we went and found the house that Nordic Boy spent most of his childhood in. I wanted to hug this house for taking care of him for so many years.
3. We also went to visit the theatre where Nordic Boy and I first met about a gajillion years ago. The nostalgia in that place? Off the charts.
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The Precious?
Driving toward Madison, WI, when a sheet of black cloud ate up the blue sky and the city ahead burned an ominous orange. I think we took a wrong turn and we're headed to Mordor.
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Consumables #26
Tales from Outer Suburbia, by Shaun Tan
I just re-read this. Do you have those artists where you just look at their work and think GODDAMMIT YOU ARE SO GOOD. Like, it almost makes you a little bit sick they are so good? Shaun Tan is one of those for me.
Protagonist
A martial artist, a theif, a terrorist, and an ex-"reformed" gay man. I know the whole point of this was to explore the documentary subjects' lives within the framework of the Euripidean "tragedy of the extremist." I found the stories about extreme control totally engrossing. But I am going to be honest, I just couldn't go with the puppetry interludes. Yes, there were puppetry interludes. It was all very arty I am sure. I just fast forwarded through those parts, because I am lowbrow.
Beyond Belief
So incredibly sad. I know it was supposed to be, ultimately, uplifting. But I was sad the whole time.
It Might Get Loud
There was a time in my life that I hung out with professional musicians, almost exclusive to everyone else. This film makes me think of my old friends and how they were obsessed with what they were doing. It made me miss them, but also totally not miss them, because they were sort of exhausting. It was really great to watch, but I was also glad when it was over and I could turn it off. But that's just my baggage, y'all.
Out Stealing Horses, by Per Petterson
I know that the first thing anyone does when talking about art that comes out of Scandinavia that is sort of bleak is to compare it to Ingmar Bergman. It gets me that people see Bergman in The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo, for example. I think that it's sort of a stretch, but then, what do I know, I'm the girl who doesn't get the Euripides thing either. But that said, Out Stealing Horses did have a Bergman thing going on. Really. I know I just said not to do that, but I am doing it anyway. It's Bergman meets Dick Proenneke. And how can you go wrong with that?
The Slap, by Christos Tsiolkas
Long-listed for the Booker Prize, this is one of those "where we are now" society books. A bunch of characters deal with family issues, the state of marriage, fidelity, parenting, feminism, masculinity, motherhood, multiculturalism, etc, etc, etc. The book held my interest and I found lots of food for thought in it. However, if this is where we are now? We're royally fucked. Every character in here is batshit insane.
Song I rocked out to this week? Kim and Jessie by M83
Did I just say "food for thought"? Yikes.
I did it all for the nookie
Monday night Nordic Boy came home with a present for me.
For a long time, I wasn't the slightest bit interested in trying an e-reader, mostly because in the beginning of e-reader-ness the only option was to buy books, never borrow. Don't get me wrong, I am not anti-book-buying, but being a librarian and all, I also am a huge fan of the borrowing. I am not precious about owning books as objects for myself for the most part, and plus I am a full on cheapskate, so put that all together with the fact that I work for a huge library system where I can read to my heart's content without committing the dolla dolla bills, ya'll, and you have a pertty solid no thanks, Mr. Bezos.
When e-readers started coming out that offered the option of buying or borrowing, it made me more interested, but still. I didn't know if it was for me.
Um, you guys? IT IS SO FOR ME.
I like many things about it, but what I like the most is that I can carry eleventy grillion books around with me in my purse without herniating my groin. I read multiple books at a time, and deciding which one gets the honor of going in my purse with me is a thing of the past. I also enjoy the fact that the screen is not a light-up screen like a computer. It treats my eyes just like print, so I don't get that fatigued computer face after a long bout of reading. And also, I can read a big heavy tome (I do TOO read tomes) in my bed and not get arm cramps from holding the dang book up.
I am realizing most of my reasons for loving this involve sheer physical laziness on my part.
I have heard people say that some people love books. The physical object. They love the binding, the papery smell, the eventual wearing down of pages. And that other people just love reading. On the computer, in a book, on a stone tablet, it doesn't matter. And then there are people along the spectrum in between. I never knew where I fell in this continuum exactly, and I still don't. What I do know is that I am not feeling monogamy for the codex.
I have a saucy lover on the side, and its name is Nook. And I am totally hot to trot for it right now.
Where the boobs and butts go
Hey, you know what I have discovered? Working a few days, and then taking three or four days off, then working for a few more days, and then taking three or four days off? IS AWESOME.
My double Portland trips are over, and the second one was just as lovely as the first. This time I had the trusty BFF by my side the whole time which meant that, well, clothes were bought. Because that's the effect that we have on each other.
Did I ever tell you about the time that she and I were in San Francisco, and we were in the unmentionables store, and she was trying to buy a slip or camisole or something, and the unmentionables saleslady referred to the bodice as "the part where the breasts go"? Wow, lady. Selling this stuff is your profession, and you couldn't come up with "bodice" or "top" or "front" or "cups" or something like that? I am a mere amateur and I can think of what those might be called. Why don't we just take it all the way down low and call them the boulder holders?
Anyway. Portland, once again, treated me right and stuffed me to the gills. I was rather lax in my photo taking this time around (too busy stuffing my face), but luckily, between the two of us, we took a few photos. First three hers, last two mine.
In other news, I joined a group of pals on Saturday to go tubing down Lake Wenatchee. Tubing, for those of you who don't know, is when you sit in a big tire-like thing and float yourself down the river. Which sounds fun, and it totally is. Being a city girl myself, I didn't know the first thing about tubing. I thought it was way, way more rapids-filled than it turned out to be. I sort of have a fear of fast river rapids. I know one person who fell out of a raft and got a spinal chord injury and became paraplegic from then on. I also knew another person who fell out of a raft and broke their neck and died. This bright and cheery post just got serious as a heart attack, I know, but I just had to tell you about why I have a (not so) irrational fear of fast moving river water. Because I don't know that many people who have died untimely deaths or become wheelchair-users due to injury, and the fact that I have known two whole people in that category seems like a high statistic.
The result of this fear was that when the optional life jackets were handed out, I totally took one, and then felt like a doofus for the rest of the time because we were basically floating in a placid river at about 1 mile an hour. No one told me that tubing was going to basically be the same thing as putting floaties on your arms and going to the pool. SHEESH. Unfortunately, I have no photos of that either. You shall be spared the visual of my life-jacketed stupidness.
On the way to tubing, the car (me, Nordic Boy, Biogirl, and our friend Nancy) trip had a conversation lull, where all of us were lost in our own thoughts, for a good long few minutes. Out of this silence, Nordic Boy (also a novice tuber) turned to Biogirl and said the following: "So, let me get this. When you are tubing, you are sitting above water, on the circular tube." Biogirl agrees. Then he says, in his super serious way: "What about butts? Is your butt dipped in the water, or is there a bottom on the tube?" Biogirl says back, with equal seriousness: "No, it's really like a donut shaped tube. Your butt is hanging into the water the whole time."
Something about that conversation made me laugh until I cried, and I think I might have drooled a little too. Nancy caught the giggle fit with me, but I don't know if that was just because she was all the sudden sitting next to a drooling hysteric in the back of the car. Little did she know that I was a moment away from peeing myself as well. Liquids wanted to come out of me in a laughing way, for some reason. Even now, as I think about it again, it makes me laugh. First of all, that Nordic Boy had such an UBER SERIOUS need to clarify where his butt was going to be and whether it was going to be in water or not. Then Biogirl saying that one's butt would be "hanging" in the water? It was like all of a sudden, I was an alien from another planet who had never heard of tubing, or tubes, or rivers, or anything, and all I could understand was that we were on our way to do some recreational activity where we were going to suspend ourselves above moving water, keeping our entire bodies dry, except we were going to stick our butts into giant donuts so that our asses would submerge during transport.
Seriously, is that not a weird recreational activity, when you really think about it?
The weekend was capped off by partying it up with R and A, two little cuties who turned 3 and 1 this month and had a ripper of a party to celebrate. R is team pie, and A is team cake, so the party offered BOTH. Which is the most genius thing ever, is it not?
Obama!
During the days preceding the last presidential election, remember all that press about how the Obama campaign raised so much money from individuals who donated small amounts of money, like $5, $10, $100? I thought that was pretty cool. Perhaps your neighborhood even had a small community fundraising group who canvassed your area. Mine did.
One night, Nordic Boy, Biogirl and I were settling in for the evening to watch a movie at my house. We all had had a long day, and we were tired and ready to be total couch potatoes. We got the bowl of popcorn, we kicked off our shoes, we put our feet up, we got blankets out, we grabbed the remote, and the relaxation would commence in five, four, three, two...
DING DONG!
Our doorbell rang. The back of our couch faces the front door, and none of us moved, none of us even turned around. "Maybe if we are quiet, they will just go away," I said. Except for the fact that our blinds were up, and the folks at our door could see us through the window. As we sat there ignoring them.
DING DONG!
Finally, Nordic Boy got up and answered the door. It was the Obama people. Relaxation had to wait until he could talk to them and then shoo them away.
The next time we felt that way (ready to collapse onto the couch in need of some serious mental shut down), for some reason, I said: "Close the blinds."
Nordic Boy: Why?
Me: In case Obama interrupts us again.
I have continued with this strange metaphor in our lives ever since. I have turned our president into the door knock when you are about to eat dinner, or the phone ring when you are about to fall asleep. It's just stuck in my head that way.
(As I am about to lift the spoon of ice cream to my mouth in the yard, the neighbor lady calls out to me for a nice conversation).
Me: (under my breath) D'oh! Obama!
Sometimes I even refer to this when I am just not quite sure who someone is.
(Someone waves to me from across the street as I walk down the street downtown).
Nordic Boy: Who was that?
Me: (squinting) I'm not sure. Obama?
It's not like I don't want to be in communication with my president. I subscribe to the presidential Twitter feed, I am on the email mailing list. But still, when I check my email and I see a message from Barack, I still pretend to be annoyed. "Dammit, it's Obama again!"
I have reduced the president to the annoying neighbor in my life who won't go away. It's like the Commander In Chief is my own personal Mr. Furley.
Anyway, remember how last week I went with Nordic Boy overnight to Portland? I had those two days off because I asked for it, like, a year ago. In Libraryland, getting time off in summer or around holidays can be like a fight to the death with one's co-workers. So I had put in for that two days off months and months ago. And for some reason, I had a premonition way back then that having those two days off wouldn't quite be enough. That I would need another break for Portlandia a mere week later. So I took two more days off the following week. And goddammit I am so glad I did, because the time between when I got back last week and now? TOTAL CRAP, workwise. So wheeeee, I am going with Nordic Boy again this week! And Biogirl is coming with us this time! I am counting the minutes. We are leaving this afternoon, at 3pm. I need to get the FUCK OUT of here, pronto.
So when I woke up this morning and logged onto the computer to read the news, why, oh why was the top story that President Obama is landing in Seattle today? And that he will be leaving again at 3:30pm? And that the time in between his landing and his departure will completely fuck up all traffic leaving Seattle for hours and hours?
I am just about to leave for a mini vacation, people. And what, or should I say WHO, is going to interrupt that?
Obama.
Upon my departure
I'm weird.
(Delium, dropping Nordic Boy and I off at our house after lunch).
Delium: So, Nordic Boy, you're coming over later to help me install that solar panel, yes?
Nordic Boy: Yep- I'll be there in an hour, after I grab some tools and load up the truck.
Me: (announcing from the backseat) Delium, I don't know if I shall be joining him when he comes over later. Maybe I will, but I haven't decided. Perhaps it might be best for you to do whatever you need to do now, internally and emotionally, in terms of dealing with saying goodbye to me. It would just be better that way.
Delium: Um, WHAT?
Nordic Boy: She's telling you to make your peace, dude.
But at least someone gets me.
Consumables #25
Rebel Rebel
I hadn't heard this song in so long, and when it came on random shuffle, it rocked my world all over again. It made me and Nordic Boy break into dance around our house. Which, granted, is not that unusual, but still.
Inception
There were so many reasons I thought I wouldn't like this movie, but I was wrong. I thought it was quite delightful. Plus I am so glad Leonardo DiCaprio finally looks older than a teenager. Up until Revolutionary Road I thought we had a Dick Clark situation on our hands.
Clash of the Titans (2010 version)
Eh. Although compared to the old one it was a fricking masterpiece.
Say Yes to the Dress
I watched this in my hotel room this week as I was getting ready for my day. I understood it far less than I understood Inception.
After leaving my incredible city and visiting another incredible neighboring city for the week, it made me think about how weird life is and that I never in a million years would have thought I would be making my life out here in the Pacific Northwest. The thought of it still bowls me over sometimes when I really think about it. And as much as I think of myself as a Midwestern girl through and through, I do love this place that I have chosen to call home. So when I woke up this morning back in my own bed, and this song was playing on the radio, it was sort of sweet.
Cheesy Portland
Go to Clyde Common and get the grilled cheese and pesto sandwich. Mwah.
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Hidden Oasis Portland
I love how there are so many little spots like this everywhere.
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Waaaaah, indeed.
Adjacent to one of my offices is a library conference room that is used by library patrons. It's used for meetings, studying, tutoring, whatever. One of the people that uses the room is a tutor who brings in groups of kids and teaches them Arabic. When he is in there, they have these sing-songy lessons where he says a phrase and the kids all repeat after him. I can't really make out anything specific, but still, the wall between us is quite thin, so I just hear something like this:
Why-yah shah dee DEE gah fahhhh.
Grah fah dah mah DOO jah nahhhhh.
Honestly, I don't even hear it anymore. It's like ambient noise to me. Except, yesterday I thought I was going to lose my shit listening to that. Somehow, the fact that I can hear it, but I can't really hear it, was making me crazy. Never mind that I wouldn't be able to understand it- the fact that I could only hear this lesson in a muffled, adults-on-Charlie-Brown sort of way was seriously jacking me up.
In other news, my Facebook conversations with my friends have dwindled to downright incoherent. Case in point:
Mrs. M, on Mr. M's wall:
"I miss you! Waaah!"
Mr. M:
"Waaaah x2!"
Jennifer:
"I miss you both! Waaaah!"
Me:
"Waaaah! I just thought I would join in."
Mr. M:
"Librarian Girrrrrrrrrl!"
Me:
"Mr. MMMMMMMM!"
Mr M:
"Poooooooop!"
Me:
"Nuuuuuuuuuts!"
Mr. M:
"STOPPPPPPP!"
What is happening, people? I have no excuse.
All of this is just proving to me that perhaps I need a few days off. So, this afternoon, when Nordic Boy drives off into the sunset to go to Portland for work for a couple of days, I am so going with him. Sure, it's a super quick mini vacation, but I am thinking a night in a fancy hotel might knock some sense back into me.
Next post, from Portlandia. I am trying to whittle down my list of Portland restaurants that I want to go to. So many vittles in that town. Mmmmm.
VIP Weekend
How was your weekend? Blah blah, yeah, let's talk about mine.
I had a weekend that felt like weeks, which was just what I have been needing lately. I love long summer days with nothing to do but eat bon bons in the breeze. Maybe it's because I work weekend days a lot but there is something about two glorious days off in a row that just seem magical to me.
We kicked off the weekend by attending a surprise birthday party for Delium. With Delium's brother at the helm, we had all been hatching this surprise party plot for weeks, and not to put forth any impressions of our group as blabby gabby types, but it was kind of astonishing that we all pulled the surprise off. He was so surprised, I was a tad afraid his ticker would give out.
The party was in the VIP section of a club that Delium's friend owns. Ooh la la, we are in a private section above the crowd wearing our fanciest pinafores. Here's the thing about the VIP second floor terrace. On all the reality shows, that depict, you know, REALITY? The Kardashians or Lindsey Lohan (um, the definition of "VIP," obviously), you are interested in seeing co-mingle with their fancy drinks, and they always take a moment to lean over the balcony of the VIP section and raise up their glasses and say "whoooo!" and the entire sweaty dance floor masses raise up their hands and say "whooooo!" back. It is, like, the official VIP salute. And don't say that it's only because they are famous that they get the whooo salute. I was watching Holly's World the other day (yes I was WHAT OF IT) and her best friend had a birthday party and she raised her glass and got a full dance floor whooo even though no one knows who the heck she is.
I am here to tell you that no one in that club once even looked up at the terrace. In fact it is safe to say they didn't give a rat's ass about the terrace. You can raise your glass all you want to. They really don't care to whooo while they get their drinky dance on. Just one more brick falling out of the reality tv wall. Dang.
The other weird thing was that we got to have the entire club to ourselves for an hour before it opened, just to up the VIP vibe to the whole thing, and so we could scream out SERPRYZE in a semi-quiet room before crowds of people show up. I don't know that I have ever been in an empty club like that before. It was kind of eerie.
Anyway, the party was a blast and the guest of honor was surprised, and people ate chocolate cake with their mixed drinks in honor of our fair Delium, god bless him.
The rest of the weekend, we proceeded to eat a lot and walk all over my city. It rained, but it was a warm, muggy summery rain which I didn't mind in the slightest because I could still wear dresses with no leggings and not wear a coat over it to mar the whole outfit, and honestly I am not ashamed to say that in my world that counts for maybe 70% of my mood.
I went to the movies, I ate five incredible meals (yuzu lemonade is a frickin' delight), I went to not one, but two architectural salvage stores (why is junk so awesome?), I read a whole novel in one sitting (can't remember the last time I did that), I hung out with my bestie, I took a nap, I called long distance folks and friends, and I hiked around downtown, Ballard, Belltown, Sodo, Greenlake and the U District. How is it possible that I was that busy, but yet got so much rest, all in one weekend? Because weekends are magic.
Consumables #24
First of all, thank you guys so much for all the silly stuff you sent me after my Festival of Whines the other day. You so funny!
I shall start out the Consumables with some weirdo clip that Leah posted to the blog comments. Really, what can you say about this? Nothing.
Stone Reader
Geeky book lover's documentary. A dude's favorite book is written by an author no one seems to have heard of, and who never wrote another thing, so he goes on a quest to find him. You will either really like this or be so bored you'll want to cry. No middle ground.
The Matrix
I've been half-watching movies that are showing on tv, and this was on this week. Neo and Trinity, the most stone-faced lovers in all of pop culture, yes?
Photos, by Sammy Davis Jr.
Frank, Dean, Marilyn, Lauren, Betty, Shirley, just everyone looking glamorous and gorgeous. Mm, mm, mm.
And some songs that got me through the week...
Babelonia, by School of Seven Bells
Swoon, by The Chemical Brothers
(I know they are not really saying this, but I like to sing along during the bridge by saying "here's mud in your eye" because doesn't that sound like what they are saying)?
Tightrope, by Janelle Monae
Sunny, by Ella Fitzgerald
I plan to take the weekend by the balls, and I suggest you do the same, everyone. Happy Friday!
Total Librarian
Me, watching "A League of Their Own" (shut up) on tv.
The scene comes on where slutty Mae (played by Madonna) is teaching her illiterate teammate how to read, using a pulpy sex novel.
Teammate: (reading from the book)...he clutched at her silky, white bosom...
Other teammate: MAE! What is she reading??
Mae: Who cares? She's reading, ain't she?
Nordic Boy: Madonna's a total librarian in this.
Me: Totally.
Sir Delium, Birthday Man
Today is my friend Delium's birthday. You may know Delium as the guy with the leisure pants, or the guy with the awesome helpy skills, or the guy who pulls planes around, but he's so much more than that. Delium has been an awesome friend to Nordic Boy and me for all of our adult lives. Let's list some of his awesomisity, shall we?
1. I met Delium as a freshman in college, when we were both cast in a play together. We cracked each other up immediately. Literally, within 5 minutes of our audition, we were insta-friends.
2. We dated for a short while and when I think of the drama that we put each other through it's kind of a goddamn miracle that we were still friends after that mess. Really, it was such a mess. I am not even joking you. HUGE mess. Have I emphasized enough how much of a mess it was? Ok. But after it was over, we were all, "I still think you're cool." And that was that. We totally became Jerry and Elaine after that, sort of seamlessly.
3. Delium is probably the busiest person I have ever known. He has a full-time job, he acts in plays, he does improv, he does voiceovers, he dances, he plays tennis, he does yoga, the list goes on and on. And yet, he's a person that we have always called in a crisis. He's always there when we need him, somehow.
4. Nordic Boy and Delium have what I think is the funniest friendship on earth. It's like they are Bert and Ernie. They are so very different, but get along so well. I think they would make a great reality show. Their adventures together could definitely be termed hijinks.
5. And ok, fine, over the years Delium has grown to love Nordic Boy a little bit more than he loves me. Nordic Boy doesn't have as many friends as me, but when he does have them, they always love him more. I even recently found out that in Delium's life, Nordic Boy is his In Case of Emergency person. Not me, even though I have known him longer. I have put in the time! And not me since I am the one who is always in town and available if needed, whereas Nordic Boy is often away on business. Oh no. It had to be Nordic Boy. That lovable bastard.
6. Delium is one of the few people (there are only 4) in my life that I can say anything to. I mean anything. Unconditional, he is.
7. Delium is known for his falls. He can do a grand fall down like nobody's business. This is something he shares in common with Biogirl. I don't know why my best friends have talent in the falling down skills. Sometimes, when they hang out, they have conversations about their falls. "So, have you had any crazy falls lately?" "Why, yes. Yes I have."
8. One time, years ago, Delium had a free gift certificate for a family portrait. I don't know who's idea it was (probably his), but we thought it would be funny to go get a photo taken together. Me, him, and Nordic Boy, our little family. It started out as a "ha ha, wouldn't it be funny if we did that" thing, and quickly escalated to where we actually went and did it. We got dressed up and went to this studio, and not one of us said A WORD about what our relationship was to each other. That poor photographer was SO CONFUSED. Was I a couple with one of these boys? Were the two boys a couple? Were we siblings or something? That dude had no idea how to pose the three of us. The result is a FUCKING HILARIOUS photo that the photographer came up with, of Nordic Boy and I seated next to each other, and Delium standing behind/above us, encircling us both with his hands on our shoulders like a proud papa with his two little babies. The photo makes no sense whatsoever. It is comedy gold.
9. Delium is, through and through, a good, solid, fun, friggin' hilarious, talented, A-1 tip top friend. I don't even really think of him as my friend. I just think of him as a part of my family. He's closer to me than my own brothers, truly. I can't imagine what it would be like to not have him around.
10. Yay, Delium! Happy birthday, you old goat.
Week of Nice, Commence!
Hey there, Stressy McFreakedout here. Just wanting to let you know how this week is going to go, ok? Just some tips for you on how to help a lady out.
First of all, do not bring up the following things as they relate to me: illness of a family member, possible loss of job, library budgets, mortgages, refinancing, health insurance, and possible death of those close to me, especially kids and the elderly. Or hows about we just steer clear of death as a topic regarding any of my loved ones? Kay? Thanks.
Even if you think you're being helpful, just don't ask about any of that. If I want to talk about it, I will let you know. (Special note to Mom: every time we talk on the phone, you don't need to say "so have you found out if you're laid off yet?" I love you Mom, but that is DRIVING ME BATTY).
None of these things are new topics in my life. I am well-versed on the family long term illness one, for example. But last week the planets aligned in just such a way as to make me FREEEEEEK OWWWWT, even though there really isn't a ton of new news on that front, other than yep, things continue to suck in an ever-increasing spiral of doom. I know the freaking out is because I am tired, and if I could get a good night's sleep that would help me get back to my regularly scheduled programming of deep breathing and yukking it up Despite It All.
Which brings me to my next request. If you could arrange my life in such a way for me, so as to make it that I can get to bed at a reasonable hour and sleep until I am done sleeping, that would be gosh-awful nice of you. And if you are a new parent who is way more sleep-deprived than me, try not to punch me in the face for even asking this of you.
Also, conversations about kitties, puppies, and cotton candy are always welcome. Off-color humor is also fully acceptable.
The other thing? Don't tell me that I look tired. I know I look tired. Telling me that doesn't make me feel less tired. Also, don't point out to me that you see more gray hair on my head. That one actually happened to me last week and I wonder where someone went to charm school, with commentary like that.
The thing that I hate the worst about stress? Besides, you know, the fact that it stresses me out? Is that it makes my world SO VERY SMALL. I just think about me, me, me. It just gets reedickaless.
So, to combat the overwhelming me-ness of last week, I am declaring this the Week of Nice. I am going to do something nice for the people I care about. Send a card, make some cookies, call them up, show up at their door with an interpretive dance set to Three Times a Lady. Just something. So, friends, spotlight on you.
I am also declaring this the Week of Sleepytimes. Just because I deserve a little Nice too.
Curse Sir Walter Raleigh
You know that Beatles song? I'm So Tired? Why were they talking about Sir Walter Raleigh in that song? Anyone know? Is this something all the cool people know and I just never heard about it? Do tell, cool people.
All of my close peeps are so tired, ya'll. And when exhausted, they say some funny things.
#1:
Nordic Boy: We should go see that new new movie.
Me: Which one?
Him: You know, that one with Paul Rudd and Steve Carrell in it.
Me: Oh, yeah. Sure.
Him: What is it called again? Lunch with the Stupids?
Me: Dinner for Schmucks. Although I would totally go see something called Lunch with the Stupids too.
#2:
Nordic Boy: Save that interview show on the DVR for me.
Me: Which one?
Him: Larry Rose. He's interviewing Michael Kline.
Me: Um, you mean Charlie Rose? Interviewing Kevin Kline?
Him: That's the one.
Me: Oh my god, go to bed.
#3:
Delium: Have you guys seen that new church in the University District? The one with the really sad name?
Me: I don't think so.
Him: Oh you would remember it if you saw it. It has a name that's strange. A name that sounds depressing.
Me: No, I haven't seen it.
Him: It's like, The Church of the Unwanted Shits.
Me: What????
Him: Or something like that. I guess that's not it. But something like that.
Consumables #23
Dudes, I am so tired this week it hurts to type. Nordic Boy and I got buck wild with the home improvements and then on top of that there were other added stressors that were hella depressing and hectic and you add that all up and you've got brain deaditis. BLAH BLOO BLEE BLAH.*
The other day, Nordic Boy and I were working on the house, and the evening daylight was almost up and we weren't as far along on our project as we wanted. He turned to me at one point and said, and I quote, "Well, we can do as much as we can on this part now, and then in the twilight we can caulk."
In the twilight we can caulk. He's got the heart of a poet, that one.
So today, I am going to do Consumables a day early, because I just do not have one iota of energy to do anything else. Because of all the harried times over here, I haven't been consuming all that much in terms of movies and tv and the like. I heard that Snookie rang the bell at the NYSE and that President Obama was on The View and I ask you what sort of backwards up-is-down world are we living in? Because that seems like a pop culture switcheroo if I ever heard one.
So, no movies or tv this week, although we did limp into our house last night and make ourselves a sad, sad dinner of spaghetti made with undoctored sauce out of a bottle at 10pm, and tried to keep our eyes open while chewing half-heartedly by watching The Big Lebowski on tv. I thought working really hard, physically, was supposed to release endorphines or something and make you feel better about your troubles. And that tv was supposed to deaden the mind. Neither one of these, I am here to tell you, is true. Hopefully things will get better soon. Because this aggression will not stand, man.
Ok, so. Consumables.
The Silver Linings Playbook
The book jacket review blurb says "hilarious." It was good, but not hilarious. I found it quite melancholy with sardonic/witty overtones, which does not mean hilarious. Still, it was good. There was a large portion of the story that revolves around football and rabid football fans, and these are usually things that will make me fall dead asleep so if I still say it was good despite that, you should know that it was quite a good book.
While we have been working outside, we have plugged in Pandora and listened to some random stuff. Here's what has stuck in my brain.
Mistadobolina
There was a point where Nordic Boy was using his nailgun in exact rhythm with this song. And really, how could you not?
Living In Oblivion, by Anything Box
Oh, the early 90s. Thems was good times.
Never There, by Cake
I have a friend who used to date a dude in Cake, and after she told me about the dicky behavior I said I wouldn't listen to them anymore. That's right, SISTERHOOD, baby. They came on Pandora this weekend, and I just let it play. Does this constitute betrayal? Really, I was on a ladder in the middle of staple-gunning the shit out of my house. But I feel guilty about it.
I Put My Hand in There
My friend Jenny has a thing for Johnny Depp. I know, so do a lot of people. But she really does have a history with Johnny infatuation, all the way back to 21 Jump Street. I know, so do a lot of people. Just, in my world, I associate her with him. She also, completely separate from this, does a very uncanny Carol Channing impression. And how could you not love a girl like that? This week, this news story came out where it is being said that Johnny Depp's dream role would be to play Carol Channing. How weird is that? It's like Jenny's dream come true. Johnny AS Carol. Too much to bear. This news story made me get this song in my head and it just will not stop. And like many classic songs from musicals, the innuendo is strong, but really, Carol Channing? "Twist a little, turn a little, him a little, her a little, pressure with the thumbs, matrimony comes when, I put my hand in there!" Oh dear.
*tm _lovechild
Home Improvement with my Homies
Crazy stuff happened in home improvement land this weekend.
1. The troops once again descended onto our homestead to help us with our shenanigans. Biogirl and Delium clocked in umpteen hours working on that mothereffer of a house of ours. Best. Friends. Ever. I really love those guys so much.
3. Nordic Boy has a pair of vintage 50's safety glasses. I LOVE THEM. I am sort of jealous of them, actually. This weekend, I got to wear them. I felt like a cross between a mad scientist and Milton the Stapler Guy.
4. There were three ladders in use all weekend, plus one large bucket that was being used as a stepstool. The four of us were going up and down these ladders every five minutes like we were moles in that Whack a Mole game. At one point someone started to sing a background song, and we all agreed that we could pitch our ladder choreography to Cirque du Soleil as an addition to their show. Granted we were all punchy and semi-dehydrated at that point of the day, but at the time it seemed entertaining to us.
5. Delium did an unfortunate ladder dance (similar to a pole dance) on top of one of the ladders at one point, which my elderly neighbor Maggie just might have witnessed. Hopefully she was enticed, rather than weirded out.
6. When Nordic Boy and I first met when I was a teeny tiny teenager baby 19 years of age, he worked at a big fancy theatre. He was like the Doogie Howser of set carpentry then- this young guy in charge of making sets and in charge of crews of people twice his age. I was in awe of him and his talent and although I was totally intimidated by him, I hid it well (ACTING!) and confidently talked to him. As an intern, I was assigned to help him work for a time, and I remember the first thing he taught me how to do was to use a chalk line. This weekend, I was helping him at one point, and we busted out that chalk line again. He held one end and I held the other, and when he said "you want to snap it, or should I?" I looked across at him and my stomach flipped a little. It sort of blew my mind that we were here, so many years later, working on our home together. It really does seem like a few days ago that I was trying to get him to eat lunch with me at that theater.
Look at me, feeling the romance over a chalk line. Shut up, I'm tired, ok?
Consumables #22
Reel Paradise
I was not a big fan of this. It's been sitting on my Netflix queue forever and I just kept putting off watching it because I knew it would piss me off. I shall spare you my thoughts on cultural imperialism and just say (and you may quote me on this): BARF.
The Bachelorette
Just when I thought I was out, THEY PULLED ME BACK IN. I haven't watched all season, but I did watch the last two episodes and I can't even believe how mind-numbingly boring these people are. Why do I want to watch boring people vying for each other's boring affection? I'll tell you why. It's because they go on "overnight dates" and use funny euphemisms for making the sex. "I am just really looking forward to having alone time with Ali. So that we can really relax. And just get to know each other more deeply." "I really want Chris to put himself out there tonight. I just really need to see who he is." What is it with the "putting himself out there," people? So many times with the "putting himself out there"! Apparently, it is the main thing one looks for in a mate. Perhaps we should be incorporating this into our vows to each other. "Do you promise to always love, honor, and put yourself out there?"
Zookeeper's Wife by Diane Ackerman
I am not usually impressed by celebrity. Large or small. Hot movie star, or brainiest professor on campus? Whatever. If you are the person that everyone talks about and oohs and ahhs over, this will most likely cause me to be skeptical of you. When I was in the THEE-AH-TAH!, the big stars that came in that everyone went googoo for? They were straight up assholes. Like, 99% of the time. So although I don't think celebrity/popularity makes you an ass, I do think the liklihood is higher. So in the library world, the biggest celebrity is a little lady by the name of Nancy Pearl. If you have ever seen the Librarian Action Figure, it is based on her. Also, you may hear her on NPR's Morning Edition or other egghead places like that, reviewing books and talking about other librarianish things. To the non-librarian, she is pretty unknown. To the librarian, she is more beloved than Shel fucking Silverstein. When she shows up to conferences and stuff, people go all atwitter. Therefore, my natural inclination toward her should be one of gaggy eye-rolling. However, in this case, I must make an exception to my skepticism. Because Nancy is the nicest lady you will ever meet in your life. Really, she is. Anyway, I got to have a long meeting with her and other colleagues this week and it was nothing but delightful. And we talked about many books, The Zookeeper's Wife being among them. So I read it this week. Which is a really roundabout way for me to talk about nice Nancy Pearl, the semi-celebrity who is unequivocally not a fuckface.
This Is It
I can't think about this title without going to the bad Kenny Loggins place. "THIS IS IT! Make no mistake where you ahhhh...." So this documentary is just a bunch of clips of Michael Jackson rehearsing, and he is clearly only performing at about 25% effort, because it's just rehearsing. And yet, me, um, riveted. Must have been the dormant 6th grader in me who would pay money to watch Michael Jackson mow his lawn. Wait, I guess Michael Jackson wouldn't have mowed his lawn though. Well, I would have watched him make Bubbles mow it then, or something. Oh whatever.
Big Eden
Ok, so the ending was a little cheesy, but still. I thought it was sweet.
Thursday already?
Random ephemera from my life this week...
1. Yes, I just said "ephemera from my life," like a big pretentious asshole.
2. You might be aware of the fact that my aesthetic runs toward minimal. I am not a keeper of things, and clutter drives me crazy. I don't think that having things is really my issue- I think I am more of an organization nut that anything else. If things that I own have a place, neat and tidy, then I am happy with keeping them. Anyway. This is just a preface to say that my policy of giving shit away has always been a good thing in my life, overall. Except for twice. Once, a couple of months ago, when we were making tabbouli salad and hummus, and Nordic Boy was all "um, where is our food processor?" and I was all, "don't look at me, how would I know?" and then I realized that I had given it away. To Goodwill. Because we hadn't used it in a couple of months. So we had to go buy a new one. Nordic Boy chose not to give me shit about this, because he is good people. Then, a few weeks ago, he and I were going to go for a run after work together. And then I was all "where are my running shoes?" and we looked high and low. And goddamn it, they were GONE. I think I tossed them into a give-away pile recently. It's the only explanation I can think of. Nordic Boy, again, did not give me shit about this. However, Biogirl did. And I so deserve it. Don't leave any of your crap with me because I will discard it, fools. Buh'lee dat.
3. A neighbor told us that his dog and a raccoon got into a fight the other night. What kind of crap is that? We are in the CITY, people. This ain't no Marlin Perkins situation we have going on around here. All I could think about was Jasper on Little House on the Prairie. And so what if my references are all from the 1970s right now? (The dog and the raccoon both walked away from this fight unharmed overall, by the way, but I bet they are both hella pissed).
4. The other night, I was asleep in my bed (all alone, without Nordic Boy, woe is me), and the oscillating fan that we had propped up in the corner? TURNED ON BY ITSELF. Woke me up, scared me so bad my nuts pulled up, and I still can't figure out how it happened. Clearly I have dead people hanging out in my house and they are sweaty, hot dead people who want me to turn the fan on. Poltergeist! GAH.
5. I got ma'am'ed at work yesterday. Doesn't happen all that often, but when it does? Ouch.
6. You know I am one to joke about just about anything, but Mel Gibson jokes? Not funny to me. Just in case you were thinking about telling me a Mel Gibson joke.
7. Nordic Boy says that he might get to stay home for work EVERY NIGHT next week. Although he was careful to say "might" I am now officially taking it as fact. If anyone at his work undoes this now, I will have to cut someone.
8. There are many things at work that require my signature. No one ever gets my Henry Blake references when I try to use them in those situations. I fear I am becoming one of those bosses that tells bad jokes continually, hoping someone will laugh.
That's all I got.
Carry on my wayward sons.
Hair Drama
Delium came over AGAIN and rocked out with the help for like 6 or 7 hours this weekend. Now he is just gunning for Friend of the Year, methinks.
It's funny to have people over while you are doing something with your partner that you would normally only do without other people there. (Dirty!) Ok, this time I just mean that we were working on the house together with Delium there. Nordic Boy and I have been together for so long now that we pretty much have communication down pat and so working together does not raise ire or frustration or cause bickering that we need to quash in front of outsiders. And I am glad of that, because really, what is worse than being stuck at someone's house as a guest and hearing that mess from your couple-friends? So although the bickering doesn't happen, we do have quirky ways that we communicate, and having an audience can be kind of funny.
(Me, working with Delium).
Me: Where's Nordic Boy?
Delium: I think he went in the house for a drink of water.
Me: Oh. (hesitation)
Delium: Do you need something?
Me: Yeah. I, uh, just need to go express something for a second.
Delium: Oh. Um, ok. Go for it.
Me: (yelling) NORDIC BOY??
NB: (through the open kitchen window) YEAH??
Me: I COULDN'T FIND MY PONYTAIL HOLDER TODAY!
NB: WHERE DID YOU LAST HAVE IT?
Me: I CAN'T REMEMBER! MY HAIR IS IN MY FACE. IT'S MAKING ME MAD.
NB: (sounds of footsteps. Rustling of things. Drawers opening and closing).
(NB comes out of the house with a small ponytail holder).
Me: Thanks, but not that one. That one won't hold my hair. My hair is too thick.
NB: Oh. (Starting to go back into the house).
Me: You don't have to go search for it or anything. I just wanted to tell you I was mad about my hair. You don't need to fix it. I just wanted to tell you about it.
NB: Ok. You sure? I can get a barrette. How about a clip?
Me: No, really- no solution necessary. I just wanted to tell you.
NB: Ok.
Me: I feel better now.
(pause)
Delium: And that, ladies and gentlemen, is your demonstration of Men Are From Mars, Women Are From Venus. Thank you for watching.
Me: Shut up.
Delium: You guys are weird.
Me: Get back to work.
Consumables #21
This week I could not take reading, watching, listening to ANYTHING that wasn't silly. I just couldn't.
Planet of the Apes (1968 version)
Nordic Boy and I, because we are old fogeys, still frequent our local video rental store quite often. You know those buildings? Where there are actual shelves with dvds on display? And you walk in a door and rent them? Yeah, we still do that. And for years and years, we have had a running joke. Whenever I am being indecisive about what movie I want, and I just keep wandering around and around gathering armloads of movies when we really need to narrow down to just one, Nordic Boy has a failsafe phrase to get my ass moving. "You better pick one or we are just getting Planet of the Apes and that's that." And I go into a panic and pick a movie out immediately. I don't know what it is about the threat of Planet of the Apes, but it works. This tactic has been used for at least 10 years. This week, I noticed Planet of the Apes on Netflix streaming, and fired that sucker up. And though I hadn't seen it in a million years, the lines were burned in my brain to the point where I could recite along with it. Which actually isn't that hard, because Heston isn't exactly Shakespeare. "It's a mad house! A MAD HOUSE!"
Year One
Stupid ass Judd Apatow. I watch his movies and sort of go through the whole thing kind of being mad about the anti-lady-ness, and then the juvenile 14-year-old part of my brain kicks in and one or two things will just hit my funny bone for a second and it saves the whole experience. For instance:
Princess: (indicating a temple) I want you to enter the Holiest of Holies.
Jack Black: That's quite a coincidence, because I want you to sit on the Poliest of Polies.
We lost our shit laughing at that, I am not gonna lie.
Slap Shot
Many things not to like about this movie. But it's got Paul Newman. And also Strother Martin making a friggin' hilarious masturbation face.
For the love of Petey Wheat, I am Beavis AND Butthead this week. There is just no other excuse.
Classic jokes are still funniest
Me: I'm so lucky to have people in my life who really listen to me, you know? So thank you.
Biogirl: What?
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone
Food, trees, art, home
There were many things that made me frown, cringe, and feel slightly nauseated in the past few days. Rather than share those things, I shall share some things that made me smile.
Seattle Food Truck boom
The city of Seattle has made food distribution easier to do and thus, food trucks and food carts are flourishing. Gourmet ice cream, hotdogs, taco trucks, doughnut trucks, burgers, pizza, fish and chips, thai food, and more, all on wheels.
Country in the city
Last Friday night Nordic Boy and I took a hike around our city for over two hours, and at several points found ourselves in parks that seemed far, far away from any concrete and steel, even though we were steps away from it all the time.
Urban Craft Uprising
A gathering of artists who get together and sell their wares. It was heaven. I made a bunch of scores when I went this year, not the least of which was this cool shrinky dink mustachio necklace (look for it in the etsy shop called Passion Flower). While wearing it, you can even lift it up to your upper lip and it fits most faces perfectly. You know, in case you need a disguise at an unexpected moment.
Voicemail Songwriter Improv
I have friends who call me up and when I don't pick up, don't do anything other than sing a crazy song they made up, and then hang up. You know who you are, and I LOVE YOU.
Coming home
Walking in my front door at the end of my work day is among the best feelings in the world. But before I get to the front door, I walk up my front stoop, and then step onto my porch, and in that few seconds, I get a glimpse through my front window. Sometimes Nordic Boy is reading in there, sometimes he's in the kitchen whipping something up. But looking in my window, I know he's there somewhere and it's pretty rad.
I'm tired, so what?
Won't You Please, Please Help Me
I am constantly amazed at the number of people that I know that struggle, in large ways and small ways, and don't seem to want any help. What is going on around here, where people feel like they can't ask for help? Or even accept it when it's offered?
Ima go on record and say that I love getting help. And giving help. I don't see the downside either way. Well, I guess I don't like helping friends who only seem to take and take and would never think to reciprocate when I am in a jam. But if you're a person that only takes and never gives, that means you're kind of douchey. And I have a strict policy of cutting you the hell out of my life if you are douchey. Hence, I don't have any friends like that so that doesn't count.
When I typed "in a jam" right there? I accidentally typed "in a ham." I kind of like that better.
There are times when I have wondered if, when people seem like they really need help, and I offer and they don't respond, whether it's appropriate for me to just show up at their door. Aggressive helping, are we for this? I don't know. I haven't done that yet, but I have thought about it. There was a time when a friend of ours was having really serious home maintenance issues, and we knew about it, and they hadn't asked us for help, but they were drowning, so Nordic Boy just went over there and was all "here's how I am going to help you. I have my tools in the car and we're getting started today. What I can't fix, I will make a written plan for you of how to tackle the rest." BOSSY BRITCHES. But you know what? They wanted to cry they were so thankful that someone did that. But they wouldn't have asked.
So maybe bossy helpfulness is ok, sometimes. I just don't know if I have the balls to pull that off though. I have seriously thought about it, but never gone through with it. Have you?
I think the people that have the same giving methodology as mine are my friends Alli and Chis. They give and accept help all the time, no probs. I attribute this to our all being raised similarly, in the same environment. My friend The Soggy Librarian is another person who gets the whole giving/getting helpful thing. Now that she has her little sweet pea kiddo, I would totally go over there and do her dishes for her if she needed a nap or something. I guess what surprises me is the number of people that I know who would be appalled about a friend doing their dishes. No matter how tired, or buried in dishes, or exhausted-to-the-point-of-tears they were.
I am going on record right now to say that if I am crying over something like that? COME OVER AND DO MY DISHES. I will be grateful.
What got me thinking about this was my weekend. Over the weekend, Nordic Boy and I decided to do a very time-consuming house project. Outside. In the heat. And it had very specific time constraints. Nordic Boy is used to all of these conditions. I am, well, not so much. So after Saturday, where we stayed outside until about 10pm and we weren't even half way done with what I (not we) had mapped out for the weekend, I was exhausted.
Sunday morning, we got up and started working immediately. Really, Nordic Boy had told me there was no way we would get this project done in one weekend, but I wanted to believe. I was all Corey Hart: NEVER SURRENDER! By 11am, we had been working for four hours and I was tired and GRUMPY.
That's when Delium called to see what we were doing for lunch. And I was all LUNCH WE HAVE NO TIME TO EAT WE HAVE A PROJECT TO FINISH OMG IF THIS IS NOT DONE TODAY I WILL SHRIVEL UP AND THEN PERISH IN A BLAZE OF FURY.
To which he replied. "I am coming over."
And he did. He just came over and got to work. And worked with us until we all literally could barely stand up, we were so dirty and tired and sweaty and disgusting. Even though when he first got there I was using a snappy tone because I am an asshole sometimes. Even though he had work to do for his actual paying job. Even though he still had grocery shopping to do. Even though he also had dance rehearsal to go to later that I am sure he was exhausted for by the time he was done at our house. Even though we had nothing to offer him in the way of snacks. He came over, and clearly realized that I was at the end of my rope and distracted my grumpy mood all day while we worked by being funny and silly and delightful.
He's really a friggin' awesome friend to Nordic Boy and me. I wish more people were like him. And I hope I can be half as awesome as that to my peeps.
Next time someone is in a ham, go help them out, ok? Think about Delium and just go.
Also? I am so sore. Manual labor is hard.
Consumables #20
I swear to you I will get back to posting more than just Consumables starting next week. Because really, there is stuff happening in my life other than this. Sheesh.
In the meantime! This week:
Clash of the Titans (1981 version starring Sir Laurence Olivier opposite Harry Freaking Hamlin)
OUCH.
Flint #1: Choosing Sides
I saw this at the library, and how could I not read it? It's set in my own drrty ghetto fabulous hometown that I love so much. Prostitution! Basketball! Drug deals! Gang wars! Ah, I feel 16 again. Ha ha.What killed the whole thing was that the back of the book blurb tells you the whole dang story. Boo! I confess the thing I loved most about it was the design on the book cover that just had the signs for Interstate 75 and 475 on either side of the title. Holla!
This Is Just Exactly Like You, by Drew Perry
This was totally ruined for me because someone told me it was funny. Ready to laugh, I dove in. Um, whoever told me that, you are fired. If only I could remember who you are.
And lastly, I rocked out to this song while making breakfast this morning, because the sun shining in my windows just amped me the eff UP. Nordic Boy added in the background "Whoop" whenever needed. Yay summer!
I can see clearly now, the rain has gone
The week is whizzing by! Or taking a whiz by. Thoughts, musings, and perhaps a couple of actual happenings.
1. I am so grown up, you guys. It's true. I spend so much time doing grown up things, it kind of weirds me out. The other day, I was called upon to get information off of my homeowner's insurance, and I knew right where my policy was. This made me take a step back and realize that I have neat and organized files in my life. Of things like insurance, and 401k stuff, and shit like that. And I understand it. And I keep it nice and tidy and up to date. GAH.
2. It's supposed to be 92 degrees here today and I LOVE IT. I try to keep my jocularity quiet though because Seattle-ites will cut you if you are happy about the weather. Any weather. It is universally maligned, hot or cold. Seattle is not happy unless it is a perfect, hermetically-sealed bubble of 72.6 degrees with filtered sunlight and a 3 mile an hour breeze. Being from the Midwest, this seems nuts to me.
3. Let's talk about the dudes who yell out to ladies from cars, shall we? Dudes, what is that all about? What is the purpose of this activity? Approaching a lady, I get. Asking her for her phone number, I get. But driving by and yelling out the window some sort of poetic phrase such as "Aye, Mami!" or "Delicious, bay-beeee!" What IS THAT? What is that doing for you? What is the satisfaction? What is the response you would like? Really, it dumbfounds me.
4. Remember the town BioGirl and I concocted? I can't believe none of y'all told me about Dick Trickle. I think he might be the first real live person that can live in our town, and I totally forgot about him all this time. And then I remembered, and that made me think of Dick Butkus. Give those two immigration papers immediately! We need them in our town, now!
5. Have you noticed that on tv and in the movies, people seem to know when phone conversations are over and they just hang up without saying "goodbye"? Do you guys do that? I never do that. I always say bye to people on the phone. How are these tv people sure that they aren't hanging up on someone?
6. My Tivo always suggests that I watch "Kimora Lee Simmons: Life in the Fab Lane." I tried it last night and I couldn't get through it. And I think we all know me well enough by now to know that I can get through a lot of doodoo-caca in the medias. But that? No. Now I am sort of offended at my Tivo for thinking that I should watch that.
7. I did, however, watch an episode of "What Not To Wear" where they claimed that every man needed to own a pair of mandals. EVERY MAN. EVERYWHERE. MANDALS. That's all I'm going to say about that.
8. I am planning another upcoming Midwest trip and thinking about it makes me so excited I may or may not do a faux peepee dance without realizing.
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