Mindreader

You know how, in gmail, it does that scary thing where it knows what you are typing and then suggests links that are related to what you have written?  Here's what was suggested to me as I wrote an email today at work.

"More about...
Leadership Skills
Employee Performance
Employee Motivation
Budget Spreadsheets
Donuts Recipe
Glazed Donuts
Donut Icing
Baked Donuts"
 
I think gmail, in this link list, has gone from analyzing what I was actually typing about straight into what I WANT to be typing about.
 
Fricking spooky.

Rattling around

Things bouncing around in my head this week:


1. For a city house, my yard sees all kinds of animal action. Dogs, cats, birds, the occassional raccoon or rabbit. I have noticed that the animals that visit my yard seem to be under the impression that my yard is their toilet. Birds seem to poop on my car on purpose, and dogs think that the strip of grass between my front stoop and the street curb is made for doggie poo poo. (Ok, that last one I can't really blame on the dogs. It's my dog owner neighbors that don't seem to think that the scoop law applies to them). And today, there was cat vomit on my stoop stairs. ANIMALS OF SEATTLE, I IMPLORE YOU. Stop the insanity.

2. Biogirl and I went on a walk last night and clocked the amount of time it takes to walk from my front door to her soon-to-be front door. Three minutes at a leisurely stroll, people. Heck yes.

3. Sometimes I wonder if people with less melanin than I happen to have truly understand the racist boolshizz that flies around brownies like me on a daily basis. I mean, really, I am not kidding. A DAILY BASIS. For example, a nice looking business man type asked me about a book today, which I had never heard of. His response, dripping with disgustingness, was "it's a popular book here in AMERICA, you know." His meaning was clear. I wish this was out of the ordinary, but it ain't. Post-racial, my ass. Don't fool yourself.

4. I am thinking that, for my birthday next month, I might buy myself a DSLR camera. I have been researching for a while now and I think I know what I might get, but anyone have any recommendations on that? Give it to me.

5. I have had a long, tired history of not being able to find a winter coat that meets my stringent standards of pretty. I mean I have been looking, actively, for like two or three years straight. And this fall, I have declared the YEAR OF THE COAT! There are coats everywhere that I like! And can afford! And are cute! And warm! I have bought two and am done with coat shopping for now. However, now I am in winter boot hell. This whole ugly shoe trend has gone on long enough, everyone. Can we all make a pact and tell it to stop? I think we can make it happen if we all band together.

6. Why are people afraid of spiders? I don't really understand that one. I mean unless they will poison you to death or something, but a daddy longlegs? A little bug with legs like strands of hair? Scary, why?

7. I am contemplating putting some effort into Halloween this year. Oh, who am I kidding.

My Brain In Strain Falls Mainly on the Plane

There is so much to think about in my life right now. Think think think. Think about what is happening, think about what parts of that I can help to change, think about what actions I need to take to help, think about how I can support people I care about around me, think about my own choices in reacting to what's going on.


I am having serious brain strain. And sometimes when having serious brain strain, I just need to shut it down, at least temporarily, or else I am liable to blow a gasket, and then what good am I to anyone, if my gasket is popped?

Hence, my weekend, wherein my peeps made sure that I stayed sane. Well, you know. Relatively.

On Friday night I went out to a fancy restaurant with Nordic Boy, Sarah and Craig. And we ate a bunch of stuff that we didn't even know what it was. And it cost like 3.2 million dollars. But that's ok, because um...why is that ok again? I don't really know. I expected my sphincter to squeeze out some diamonds or something, after that meal, but alas it was not to be. Still, the food was tasty, and the company was divine. Except that when I say that my brain needed to totally shut down? It did, during dinner. Which made me keep recommending documentaries and books to my friends and then stupidly not be able to recall the names of any of them. Which was delightful for them I am sure. I am so charming.

The rest of the weekend contained things like:

Spontaneously driving to Bellingham, WA, eating lunch, and hiking around.

Going to an apple orchard/farm in Skagit county and visiting the most adorable family farm store where we loaded up on preserves, and cider, and fresh apple cinnamon doughnuts. The farmer was kind enough to let us wander through some of his land.

Heading over to M and S's house to meet the newest members of their family: their chickens! Bawk bawk. They are usually free range but often like to stay in their coop. And if you were a chicken, wouldn't you? That is one swanky coop.

Staying late at M and S's house and chatting the night away (and YAY library folks! We didn't talk about work but AT ALL, which is kind of a miracle right now). The later it got, the more everyone kicked their shoes off, put their feet up, and leaned back in their chairs. The body language was obvious- we all wanted to get some sleep but the conversation was too good, the company too lovely.

Going to brunch and then on a long walk with Biogirl, my soon to be new neighbor.

Getting under a blanket and watching movies with Nordic Boy while the rain seemed to fall sideways out of the sky.

My weekend was full of awesome people, good weather, lots of fresh air, and a perfect balance between being busy sandwiched between small pockets of doing nothing. Brain unstrained, at least for now. Ahhh.

Tee Gee Muthasuckin' Eye Eff

Gussied up? Check.
Stuffed full of food? Check.
Friends who make you snort-laugh? Check.
Running in heels through a warm downpour? Check.
Oh Friday, how I love thee.

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Consumables #28

Secret Lives of Pippa Lee

One of the reasons I don't usually lust after celebrities is that most of them seem like idiots in real life, and I can't get past that, even if they are really, really good actors or singers or what have you. I am not attracted to idiots. This might seem to go without saying but it seems to me that many people don't give a rat's ass about whether or not someone's an idiot as a prereq for getting in their pantaloons. Which, really, why would it be? One's pantaloons are not tied directly to idiocy levels. But still, for me, they are totally related. However, Keanu Reeves in this movie is cyoot. He doesn't say much, which helps, and I still think he's probably dumb as a box of rocks, but he's pretty. And I have a soft spot for Robin Wright for reasons too stupid to mention.

Believe: The Eddie Izzard Story
I love this dude.

Roman Holiday
I watched this again because a good friend o' mine has up and left for Italy and so what better movie to watch and imagine them running around the streets of Rome? I love how Audrey Hepburn is just so fricking consistent. She is the same goddamn person in everything, all the time, which some have noted is kind of an acting flaw, but hell. I appreciate knowing what I am getting. And Gregory Peck, and vespas, and Eddie Albert, the Green Acres guy? Delish.

I'd Know You Anywhere, by Laura Lippman
This genre is not my usual cup of tea, but I liked it overall. I was thankful for no gory stuff, but at the same time she didn't sugarcoat anything either. Good balance. The one thing I couldn't get over was the fact that the main character and her husband didn't seem quite appalled, repulsed, angry enough that a psycho who had victimized her was trying to get back in touch with her. They just sort of seemed like, ok, well that's awkward, and kind of gross, but ok, you know, whatevs.

Things in worky land are stressful for me and my library homies currently. This song seems appropriate for my mindset right now, in terms of timing, and summer ending, and what's ahead.




Have a loverly weekend, alla yous!

Belonging

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?

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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Grandpop

My pops is the sweetest grandpa ever.

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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.

Totally tubular

Taking a break from putting our butts in water.

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.