Last Post for 2005
Geez, two steps forward, three steps back. For every item I manage to put away, 3 more come through the door. Not just fun stuff either. I'm not griping about gifts. It's everything: mail, fresh laundry. I went out to the garage to stash something and noticed there is a mountain of empty boxes. We need to break a few of those down and gift them to Mr. Recycling Man and I'm not clear on this but he's coming tomorrow? Sunday, Jan 1st instead of Monday the 2nd? Maybe I'm dreaming.

I had a good birthday although it got off to a rugged start. Both Bob and I are fighting colds. I think Bob's a little worse off than I am although neither or us is in very bad shape. But it's the thing where you wake up feeling gross and once you've moved around, drank some tea and showered, you're at about 90%.

I knew I wanted to see a movie and I knew where I wanted to go for dinner, Roots which is completely on the far east side of Vancouver, technically Camus. This made the location of the movie matter and somewhat also the timing. Brokeback Mountain wasn't going to work which left my other choice: King Kong. Did you know that movie is 3 hours long?

That made me cranky (see above about just woke up and cold symptoms). I checked out a few other movies but really the only other thing I might have wanted to see was Chronicles of Narnia, which I've already seen once. I whined a bit and Bob asked me what I wanted to do and I said, "I want to see King Kong and I want it to be shorter."

He indicated that this was 1 birthday wish he could not make come true and after some more consulting of the movie times, we decided to see an early King Kong and then go to dinner.

Other than being too long, King Kong is an excellent and thrilling movie. It took about 10 years off my life. (It also made me cry.) Wild, scary stuff. At one point, during the Skull Island part, there was this endless scene involving huge bugs. I squirmed in my seat for about 5 minutes and then leaned over to Bob and said, "We're NEVER going there." And unless they have a hippie jam band festival, I think he agrees.

Dinner was fantastic. We hardly ever splurge on a super deluxe meal and this was worth every penny. We shared a crab and avocado appetizer and a beet salad and our entrees were filet mignon with some sort of bleucheese butter (!) and grilled wild salmon with greens. For dessert we split a Kahlua creme brulee. I must learn how to make this dessert.

Great day. Great year. A couple more days off to clean up and more Photoshop and updating my iPod with new tunes and playlists. I'm also big on cleaning things out at new years. Like the bathroom cupboard. You know you always find about 4 bottles of sunscreen with 1 tiny squish left or some bath gel that you forgot you had. And I'm going to take down the tree and put away the holiday stuff. And I'm going to process Mr. Pumpkin. I will most likely photo-document it for you here so stay tuned.

Happy New Year.

Today's post is about clothing (bottoms) and high waistbands.

I never had a problem with high waistbands. Not even when the style was to have a waistband that was so low, special extra-short zippers had to be invented and the full-monty down low wax became a common procedure. (In some circles. I haven't gone for it myself, but if I do, you can be sure I'll share all the details here.)

Pretty soon even clothes for people like me (meaning old and without style) started to lower the waistband. Not to that scary, omigod how does that even stay up Ana Lucia from Lost low -- but below the navel. And once I got used to it, I kinda liked it.

Then I had to buy new underwear because all my underwear came up around my armpits and stuck out over the waistband

But still, the high waist haunts me. All my winter tights come up around my armpits. My silk longjohns: armpits. It's not a crisis because I'm usually wearing sweaters and shirts that hang over the waistband anyway - but not an overall sexy look to have the waistband of your underclothes hanging out over your waistband.

My Mom got me some really cute new sweats for xmas and I love them and their low waistband. Except now my yoga pants stick out. *sigh*

Die Fat Free Cheese, Die
I accidentally bought Fat Free Feta Cheese.

I tasted a sliver and was like, "Omigod, what is wrong with this cheese? It's nasty." Then I saw the package.

uck. Completely inedible.

It should be illegal to make a product that is called both "fat free" and cheese.

50 Book Challenge - I'm a winner
I finished book #50 yesterday. You can see the entire list here.

I'm going to keep a running tally of my books next year, too but I'm not going to aim for 50. I have some other projects I want to put some time into and I don't want to get sucked into that overachiever thing where I get all panicked if I haven't finished a book in a couple weeks.

Holidaze
Great holiday this year.

We picked up Priscilla and drove to Fort Jones (near Yreka) to visit a longtime family friend of both the Hughes family and my grandparents. John Jenott worked for the Forest Service in both Happy Camp and the PAC NW and that's the connection with both families. This had nothing to do with Bob and I getting together. We found out about it later.


We visited John at the Marble Rim Gallery which features a number of wonderful local artists, John included. I tried on a beautiful handspun, handknit sweater and fell in love with it before I even saw the price tag. Priscilla bought it for me for my birthday and I've barely taken it off since. I'm going to send the artist some pictures of us at the gallery and tell her how much I love her work. We left Fort Jones and took off for Orleans.


This was Priscilla's first visit to Orleans and we were able to show her around. We took a nice walk on the Go Road and had a great view of town.

Christmas day we opened presents at home. Well, most of the presents. A couple presents got, um, lost in the shuffle and appeared later including some great boots Erin got the next morning.

We had buckmeat and pancakes for breakfast. We kept calling it Bambi but Priscilla still tried some.


For dinner we went to BG & Curt's and I failed to get a real comprehensive photo of the scene. They had a spectacular tree. BG says with a tall tree you should decorate the top first and then stand it up. Everyone had plenty to eat and drink. Good time.

The Prism R.I.P.

It wasn't the sexiest car and it went slow uphill but how many cars take their owners over 240,000 miles? It will be missed.

Sundance Rentz R.I.P.

She wasn't the smartest dog and she barked a lot, but she was part of the family and we'll miss her.

Yes! There is a name for those irritating and aggravating fake websites: splogs.

Here's what Wikipedia says about splogs.

Spam blogs, sometimes referred to by the neologism splogs, are weblog sites which the author uses only for promoting affiliated websites. The purpose is to increase the PageRank of the affiliated sites, get ad impressions from visitors, and/or use the blog as a link outlet to get new sites indexed. Content is often nonsense or text stolen from other websites with an unusually high number of links to sites associated with the splog creator which are often disreputable or otherwise useless websites.

Have you ever tried to research something ... I'm trying to think of something I did recently and all I am coming up with are girl problems. What would be more universal? Health issues are likely candidates. I'm totally drawing a blank right now: but if you're looking up a general topic: headaches, Paris, gardening. And you get your search results and you click on something that looks good, and all it is zillions of links that also look good but ultimately there is no actual information. It's just a giant clicking game. These sites drive me nuts and I've been saying they should have a name. And they do. Good to know.

I had another extended rant that I don't think I'm going to do. It has to do with asking a simple question and having the person you're asking assume you're a complete halfwit and start explaining starting with the dawn of man instead of just answering your question. Except if you spend any time out and about in the world, you know that 2 out of 3 people are indeed complete halfwits and why should anyone assume you are any different?

PAMNEWSLETTER 05 is up. I forgot to post it here, just in case I had visitors who didn't know about it yet. You can click on the small pictures to see larger versions. Enjoy!

I guess I should have clarified that I paid $1.99 *a gallon* for gas. I actually paid $20 which still didn't fill up my tank.

Also like to report that I finished book #48 last night. I'm half way through book #49 (was reading them concurrently). It's F. Scott Fitzgerald's This Side of Paradise and it's pretty shitty. I would have given up except, you know, it's F. Scott Fitzgerald. But if you need Fitzy fix, your time is better spent reading The Great Gatsby again.

On the Xmas front: I am very, very close to "being ready." I have about 90% of my shopping done. We've got a tree and the decorations are out. I'm thinking I should bake something xmas-y. Maybe those sticky buns with a secret ingredient that I was going to invent earlier this year.

Here are some xmas shopping tips. Actually, it's just one tip: do not do it with your spouse. Especially if he's hungry and hasn't had his coffee yet. Sheesh. I thought it was the end for us. I was going to brain him with a 4 pound box of Belgian Truffle Orange-Cinnamon Bon-Bons in decorative holiday tin in the aisle at Trader Joes.

We followed that stop with a stop at Sunshine Bagels and as soon as we stepped through the door he was skipping to the counter with a grin on his face, happily agonizing over which bagel to get his breakfast Reuben on. One sandwich and a couple cups of coffee later and Mr. Hyde became Dr. Jekyl again. (Or the other way around, however it works.)

We successfully took care of some other purchases -- and here's the second part of the tip. If you can, do everything you need before Noon. It's already getting gruesome by 11:00am. We had one potential other stop but wisely decided to come home.

Now I'm going to work on some gift-wrapping and do a few chores. Bob is downstairs, either napping or watching a movie.

I paid $1.99 for gas last night. Me and all the other customers stood around nodding at each other and pumping our fists in the air.

Wall of Guitars at Experience Music Project in Seattle. Must be several years ago, look how light my hair is.

Ug. Just finished the paper version of the PamNewsletter. There has got to be an easier way.

The problem is I only use a page layout program once a year when I do the newsletter. In the olden days I just made sloppy margins and cut the photos to fit in the spot and then pasted them in and took the thing to the copiers.

Now my photos are digital and the program has become more advanced which I'm sure is fantastic for all the page layout people of America but for the once a year holiday newsletter types: it's like reinventing the wheel every time. This is the third day I've spent screaming at the computer between all the various versions and photos. My head hurts.

Meanwhile, I've had this note scrawled here to give you my review of more movie trailers.

Memoirs of the Geisha: peeyoo. I remember gobbling up this book. I didn't like the ending but overall it was a great story. I've seen this trailer several times and it looks like stinker-time. Sure, the look is pretty but I don't know. A lot of the movies I object to look like they're trying too hard (e.g. Cinderella Man, Cold Mountain, which had a terrible ending, who wants to see that movie?) I hope I'm wrong.

The Family Stone: got a little whiff of the stinky. A big pivotal bonding scene rests on someone spilling a big gooey thing on the kitchen floor and everyone slips and falls in it and then laughs? I bet they have a big scene where the whole family sings while clearing the table, too.

King Kong: EXCELLENTE! This is what I want to see on my birthday (probably). Bob was muttering something about Sleator Kinney. HA HA. My birthday.

Pirates of the Caribbean II: yes!

Would it be childish to mention Rent again? Also there was a trailer for a sports movie which looked pretty good but do we really need another "inspired by a true story" sports movie where a scrappy and hard-nosed coach comes in and rattles everyones cage and molds his team of misfits into winners?

I have yet another long and super busy week ahead of me. You might not see me here until next weekend.

NARNIA! [Most exclamation points used in a post: EVER!!!!]

I should preface anything I write about this movie (The Lion The Witch and the Wardrobe) with the information that I first read this book in the 6th grade and loved it instantly. And I still love it and I've read it at least 20 times since then and I am convinced that this is a direct route to my 12 year old self because I love it as a 12 year old. I'm not convinced that your average adult, with zero knowledge of the book, will love the talking lion movie.

But I was on the edge of my seat every moment of it. Ten minutes into it and I was half-weepy excited to see it again. Can you believe Shawn Levy (the Oregonian movie reviewer) gave it a C+. WHAT?!?!?!?

He thought the acting and directing sunk a nice effort. He also had some remarks about the soundtrack and I have to half concede this point to him. But who cares, it's Narnia. Mr. Tumnus come to life!

Yeah, sure. It is pretty much the Disney version of Lord of the Rings. But, so? The casting was perfect. The effects fantabulous. The talking animals -- worked for me. Tilda Swinton a terrifying White Witch. And to quote Elijah Wood (Frodo), "The little girl carried the film. British teeth and all.” Who has never wanted to be Lucy Pevensie?

Other remarks: Anything added fit perfectly or helped the story, particularly the back story bits. One thing they perhaps telegraphed but didn't make obvious was that the Turkish Delight was enchanted and partly what made Edmund so insane to bring his siblings to the White Witch. So while technically he was a traitor and ended up that way through his own stupidity, there was magic involved.

Rate me: Not Even A Tiny Bit Disappointed. One million stars!!!!! Ten thumbs up!!!! Instant Classic!!!

And movie goers: There's a small scene after the credits roll so stay in your seats!

In third grade my teacher was Mrs. Rubenstein. I could be dreaming but I think it was Helen Rubenstein.

I don't think Mrs. Rubenstein was living her dream spending her days at Rhoda Street Elementary School in a room filled with third graders. My memories of her consist solely of her screeching at us about one thing or the other.

One of her favorite tirades had to do when someone forgot something. For example, if someone didn't have a pencil. She'd say: "Does a carpenter go to work without his hammer?" I guess this was her way of teaching us about responsibility.

All these years later I still can hear that screechy voice of hers when I don't have a pencil. "Dang, stupid me. Does a carpenter go to work without his hammer?" Or when an attorney calls me for messages and can't find a pen, I always want to say, "Does a carpenter go to work without his hammer?"

Another memory I have of her is one time, about 10 minutes before the bell, I started to peel an orange under my desk where no one could see. Mrs. R. could smell it and proceeded to go off, "Who's eating an orange? We're all hungry here. We'd all like a snack. But we're all waiting. Who's the person who can't wait?"

Like I'd sacrifice myself to the humiliation of that caterwauling. Thankfully the bell rang and me and my orange skedaddled.

I call this one: tanorexia.

I am seriously, very very close to completing the PamNewsletter. The online version needs a bit of tweaking and the paper version needs to be put on paper, but other than that, we're ready to roll. Stand by for the official annoucement.

Meanwhile, what a weekend. A great example of why decrepit adults should avoid alcohol and staying up late. A wee bit of partying and I am out the next day. On the plus side: the DVR is all caught up and made a major dent in my reading pile.

Did I tell you I saw the RENT (movie) trailer and wanted that 60 seconds of my life back? Seriously, rarely has a movie looked so dreadful. When I was a girl wasn't this movie called A Chorus Line? I don't follow theater at all so maybe I'm deluded. Pretty much any movie made from a musical play is not going to rate in my book. Even Chicago.

I did see Harry Potter this weekend in HIGH DEF. Excellent! And I saw Pride and Prejudice. Also excellent.

The other thing I was going to tell you is that when I pay for parking in my building it's $7.95 which means I always get a nickel back. And at yoga it costs $1.90 so I get a dime back. My car is flooded with nickels and dimes. Nickels and dimes are in every crack, on the floor, between the parking brake and ashtray. Why not just make it an even number? Not like I'm not going to park there anymore.

I might have told you I was going to Idaho last week but actually I'm going tomorrow. Must get to packing the wool.

Guess what? It isn't snowing right now.

The weather people have been on overdrive this week because there was the possibility of snow. *possibility*

Yesterday's forecast insisted that we'd have snow overnight with huge accumulations. It didn't feel cold enough to snow but I did some grocery shopping, just in case.

This morning when the alarm went off I could hear a little wind outside. I jumped up and looked out the window and: nothing. Wet. Rain. Still not cold enough to snow.

I turned on the TV to see what the story was and the news teams' disappointment was palpable. They ran us through all their carefully accumulated footage of buses being chained up (for nothing) and took us to Hood River NOT EVEN CLOSE to the metro area to show us a "winter wonderland" which means there was enough snow flying around to make things look white. I imagine they would have delivered the report from Saskatoon if that's what it took to show us snow. It was colossally stupid.

Then they ran us through some footage of someone preparing for an emergency. Buying a giant plastic tub to keep things dry. Buying jugs of water. I turned it off at that point because since when is snow a disaster? The people who live around the Great Lakes would be laughing their asses off right now except they're getting on with their lives, working, playing, getting water out of the tap, eating food out of their dry cupboards even though there is snow outside.

I prepared for the pending snow disaster and took a big pile of work projects I could do at home. Then I forgot all that stuff when I came to work this morning.

If you could eliminate any musical artist from the planet -- their entire catalog, who would you pick? Don't waste it on just one song that you hate. Like I HATE The Safety Dance. Yesterday I asked Billy which artist he would eliminate -- he couldn't come up with someone right away -- but I said, don't waste it on just a song, like The Safety Dance. And he didn't know The Safety Dance. He did not know:

We can dance if we want to
We can leave your friends behind
'Cause your friends don't dance and if they don't dance
Well they're no friends of mine

I'm sighing with great exasperation even just typing that. Last night when I was driving home and radio surfing trying to find a good song I land on a station and what's that tune ... ? AK! The Safety Dance. I gasped and swerved and quickly punched another button.

But back to the artist I would eliminate. Off the top of my head: Phil Collins.

Turns out I am not having the hairy week I had expected. I had several in-office big projects that have been revised and then I was supposed to go to Idaho for a work related thing for several days and where it is snowing and the low is in the range of 23 degrees. There was an unfortunate event and the meeting(s) have been rescheduled for next week when I'm sure the temperatures will have climbed to a more reasonable range. Yeah, I know if anyone from Nome or Minnesota is reading this blog right now (ha ha) you are laughing into your triple layer wool underwear about now but, I am a California girl. I chill easily.

My Honda CRX had a windshield wiper on the back. Maybe because of the angle since it was a hatch they had to put it on there but I miss it. If you had one you'd realize how useful they are. Last night my Camry back window was dewed up or something that defrost was not going to solve. Not enough rain to wash it clear but a little too murky to make it useful to see out of.

Traffic was all backed up going home from yoga last night -- took me 45 minutes when I left downtown at 7:15p. But I did not get impatient since I had 2.5 hours of class yesterday (Noon and 5:30p)(I had rearranged my yoga and other schedules in antipation of going to Idaho and decided to stick with it since I had my clothes and everything.) I drove peacefully in my blissful yoga daze with Def Leppard pounding out of the speakers.

Did I ever tell you about the time I hung out with Boba Fett? Yeah, well. You know what they say: What happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas.

I've been working on the feking-arsh PamNewsletter 05 ALL DAY. I don't know why I'm in such a panic. It's still November fercrissakes. It just seemed imperative that I get the thing done today.

I've been sitting here since about 9am just trying to get the CSS template the way I want it. Too bad I have no clue what I'm doing. In case you are curious, CSS is (simplified) the thing that makes the online newsletter look the way I want it to. It takes me about 10 minutes to write the text, 30 minutes to do the pictures and 15 hours to lay the thing out for the web plus another 12 hours to lay the thing out for the luddite paper version. And not like it looks so pretty. Oh well. When I was a girl we didn't have computers. I'm unfrozen caveman legal assistant: your modern ways, they confuse and frighten me.

So here's the update.

I cooked the Thanksgiving dinner. Yeah, sure it was only for 3 people, but I could have handled 10. I said I made mashed potatoes for 30 and Priscilla looked into the bowl with doubt and I said: I already put twice that much in a container in the fridge.

I've only done the whole dinner myself a couple of other times. I'm usually the assistant and Erin and Mom run the show. If there is any doubt: it turned out awesome. I made cheeseballs. Bob has been making turkey cheeseball sandwiches. Cheeseballs rock!

I don't know where I was going with that. At dinner I said cooking was like yoga. If you practice the basics then when it's time to do the advanced stuff: you're ready for it. I was like a leaf. I floated on the wind.

Next week I have the most insanely hairy week. I doubt you'll see me here again until next weekend. And hopefully you'll have the Pamnewsletter to look forward to. Meanwhile, you can read the old versions here.

I found out the bus stop has been remodeled. This is the real bus stop for the kids in Orleans. Sorry for the confusion. I'll try to get a photo with the xmas lights when I'm down there next month.

If you've never divided dahlias before and you think you're going to run out there, dig 'em up, sort them in the garage, stick them in a box and then be nice and warm inside, sipping some wine and reading your book in an hour or two, you are sadly mistaken.

I had no idea what a job this was. I started in the front where the bulbs have done squat probably because the soil is completely dry, boiling hot in summer and a major catbox for the neighborhood. I dug those up in a flash and they emerged much as they'd gone into the ground.

Then I started on the back. omigod. Shouldn't there be more warning to people? It was like a Stephen King novel where the dahlias took over the world. I think it will be four years in Spring since I put these in the ground. Maybe five. What if I waited a few more years? Are there abandoned farms from the olden days with dahlia bulb masses the size of Vermont?

Look at the size of this thing. (Actual not-Photoshopped photo. That's our lawnmower in the background.)

Am I really supposed to wash all these things off and cut them apart and carefully put them away, with labels, for spring? I don't want to. I'm already tired of the job and I barely made a dent in it. It was cold. And washing them made it colder.

Look how much I have left:

I wanted to have some to share. Now I'll be paying people to take them. Begging them. If its sunny tomorrow I'll put in another hour or so, maybe.

Me Hanging Out with Star Wars

What I Hate About Yamhill Station
I ALWAYS make sure that I have my train ticket in advance. This has to do with not missing the train and having to stand there for 15 minutes because I had to buy a train ticket while the train came and went. I also always make sure that I buy my tickets (10 at a time) in the morning or at my lunch hour, not on the way home.

The train station on the way home is near a mini-mart and is a hot spot for panhandlers, scammers and if I can just say the word: losers. I do not want to have my wallet out in this area.

But on Thursday morning I didn't think I had time before the train arrived. (The recorded message said I had 3 minutes and those piece of crap ticket machines TriMet has sometimes take more than 3 minutes.) Turned out the train didn't arrive for like 11 minutes, but who's counting?

I totally forgot on my lunch break so now I'm stuck buying a ticket in scumville after work. Rather than putting in my $20 for the 10 tickets, I opted for the 1-way ticket and got my 2 singles out ahead of time: so I wouldn't have to take my wallet out.

And sure enough, I don't even have a button pressed on the machine and some scumbag is rushing over, cigarette hanging out of his mouth, "Ma'am? Ma'am?" Like that's more polite when you've got your hand out. WTF? Yeah, I know some people have hard times. I'm not totally without compassion. But I'm not going to hand money over to people just because they ask and I don't like being bullied at the ticket machine.

Sometime after I graduated from college I had a party called the Bridesmaid Promenade. The girls were instructed to wear a bridesmaid dress (the bride always says: you can wear it again) and the boys were instructed to wear bad ties. I would love to take credit for this idea but actually it was Trish.

The featured beverage was the upside down margarita. You sit in a chair and tilt your head back while your friends pour the ingredients into your mouth. Then they take a towel and cover your mouth and gently shake your head. (And imagine what "gently" means after you've gone a few rounds). Delicious.

This is a drink to enjoy in your youth. Fortunately, I did.

I didn't have a bridesmaid dress at the time so the dress in the photo is my prom dress. It was pink with hand-painted flowers. It was later damaged by water leaking in the closet. Otherwise I'd probably be wearing it to parties still.

And yet another picture of my sister, this time with a soggy upside down margarita towel to go with her smile.

I call this one: A Day Without Potter.

Bob just came upstairs where I was stirring our dinner: creamy peanut chicken stew. The recipe jumped out at me as a Bob-ultimate. When he saw me cutting something out of the food section he unenthusiastically asked what it was and when I told him he lit up like a 5 year old on xmas morning.

Just now, when he came upstairs he said with great energy: Honey, I can't understand how anyone can't like the Grateful Dead.

I made a loud sigh and said: How long have you got?

This morning I read in the paper that Harry Potter was going to be in high def. at Cinetopia and I'm no crazed fan but I thought it would be fun so I ran over there and well, first of all, I was already very impatient. Everybody has to drive 20 miles below the speed limit or 20 miles above the speed limit. No one can drive a speed that I like and it made me a little cranky. So I pull up and there are about 10 cars in the parking lot plus a fire engine out front and I'm thinking: COOL. But then I get to the window and there is a small crowd of people, all older than me, and the huge electronic sign that says what's what is dead and then I hear "sold out" together with "Harry Potter" and I'm like WTF? Did each car in the lot carry 15 people?

I'd already done enough driving around for the day so I said screw it and went home. I don't know what the fire engine thing was all about. And if a showing of Pride and Prejudice was playing anytime in the vicinity, I would have gone so Cinetopia, get that sign working.

But while I'm on the topic of Harry Potter, I just want to say, FINALLY someone has said it.

I'm going to be the first one brave enough to step forward and admit it: Daniel Radcliffe, i.e. Harry Potter, is growing up to be a stone cold hottie.

Of course, someone is not old enough to be HP's mother and I should probably be arrested. She has one of those countdown-to-legal-age clocks but I'm too lazy to figure out how to put one on my site. I mean, why would I do that? I'm just reporting what she said.

I had three items I wanted to update you on. HP was one. Sony is another:

I'm not tech-savvy enough to explain this worth a damn but if you buy CDs as in music, from Sony and put them on your computer you need to educate yourself on the following: Part I and Part II. My best explanation is that the Sony discs install some sort of evilware on your computer. This is a super bad idea on many levels and hopefully they will get in big trouble.

The third thing I can't remember and Bob is upstairs wanting to tell me something and looking for food so I'm done for now.

I have so many things for you. Tomorrow I will catch up. Maybe.

This thing is happening where I wake up at 3:30am and can't get back to sleep.

Sometimes I drift in something that resembles sleep. Then I nod off about 8 minutes before the alarm goes off. Just long enough to slip into a deep enough sleep that the alarm is like swimming out from under a pool of pudding. That dragging ass feeling is with me all day.

That was yesterday. I put in a long day and Bob and I did the grocery shopping after work. We stopped to pick up something for dinner and while we waited it was like torture. You know when you go on an overseas trip? And you're on your way home and you end up with some horrific 4 hour layover in Minneapolis? And then it's delayed? And by this point you are so tired you are close to weeping. (When this actually I happened I think I did weep but airports are horrible places what with those stupid TVs blaring at you from every corner.) You're almost home. But not quite. This was sort of like that.

Anyway, last night I slept like the dead. I even slept in a little and came in to work at the leisurely hour of 8:45a.

This wasn't what I was going to say when I sat down to type. What I was going to say is that I am SO HUNGRY this morning. Abnormally starving for me. If someone came in my office with a huge greasy meatball sandwich right now -- I would eat it.

Did I ever tell you the one about the hippy kid I met a long time ago back in L.A. somewhere around the time I moved into my first apartment?

I don't know that we actually met as much as he glommed onto me during a show - which I can't for the life of me remember the content of. I vaguely remember it being in the Valley but I also remember David and Karen being there and I can't think what show could possibly have convinced Karen to go to the Valley.

The guy was incredibly young and not my type on any level but at the time I knew nothing about setting boundaries or being clear in my communication about, NO and somehow we ended up hanging out. This part is a little cloudy. He probably manipulated me into giving him a ride home.

He was a very happy little hippy but his circumstances were a bit heart crushing. He lived in a week-to-week motel in Van Nuys. I recall a lot of chain-link fence in the area. He made money by painting address numbers on the curb in residential areas.

I've never seen that around here so I will explain how this works. You, as the homeowner, would receive a notice in your mailbox telling you that your curb would be painted. If you didn't want it painted, you were to tape the notice over your old faded numbers. If you did not, or forgot, someone would paint your house numbers on the curb. Later the painter would come by and collect some money ... not much, maybe $7. The idea was this would help emergency vehicles find your house.

This was how HippyBoy made enough money to go to shows and do whatever he did.

We went out one time. I had to pick him up. It's hard not to think that my wheels weren't a big part of the attraction. We went to see the Purple Turtles. If I'd only known then that this was a preview into my future I might have paid better attention. If you think I'm not into hippy bands now, you should have seen me back in the 80's as knockdown drag-out fulltime 100% rocker girl. It wasn't my thing and he wasn't my kind of guy. But he was into it and there was nothing I could say that could convince him otherwise.

It got to the point where he'd call the answering machine and leave endless messages. I could be out working late or at the grocery store and there'd be these pitiful messages imploring me to please pick up. Not to shine him on. Etc.

I think I finally got mad at him, or maybe he gave up. But sometimes when I'm with Bob at one of these massive hippy gatherings, I wonder if HippyBoy is still blissing out to the scene.

I found a picture of that bus stop. Sorry I couldn't get one with the Christmas lights. [aside: seriously, this took me half the afternoon and I don't know how to make the "bus stop" more pronounced. Give me time and I will be the Photoshop whiz.]

When we were at Bob's Red Mill yesterday Bob (mine, not the one with the Red Mill) picked up some pornographically named treats called: Betty Lou's Chocolate Covered Golden Smackers. Insert your own joke here.

This morning he ate his. He said, "This is like a really good power bar. You can try some."

I took a bite and said, "This is like a really good Reese's Peanut Butter Cup."

"Yeah," Bob said, "But those are already good."

Auntie and Uncle were in Portland for a couple of days and we met them and Aileen for breakfast at Bob's Red Mill this morning. Excellent breakfast. I highly recommend it plus they will meet and exceed all your grain/legume shopping needs.

The bus stop for the kids is at the bottom of the hill from their house. I don't think I have a photo but will look again.

It's a long story why but we were talking about electricity transmission and Auntie said that if you run a long extension cord all the way down the hill to the bus stop, you've got just about nothing for power when you get to the bottom.

"Is that for something to keep the kids warm?" I asked.

"No, it's for the Christmas lights."

After breakfast we started our shopping. Uncle saw Aileen with a couple things in her hands then ran into me with my basket. He said, "I'll bet Janet has a cart." Sure enough, she turns down the aisle pushing a cart and holding her list.

A couple of nights ago we were channel surfing and TVLand was showing an episode of What's Happening!! I totally watched that show when I was a kid.

The episode was classic: the Doobie Brothers were playing a big concert and these bad guys were plying the kids with great seats and in exchange they had to secretly tape the concerts. Yes, they were BOOTLEGGING. And the bootleggers were villians with shiny suits.

Not only were they bootlegging but they were using those big clunky cassette recorders that we used back in the mesomeric era before the invention of technology. It's hard to even imagine that a crappy 3rd generation cassette recording from an orginal taped from a recorder hidden in someone's clothes would have ever been valuable to anyone. Or that the artist would have been backed up about it.

If you've ever seen hippies at a Cheese (or any jam band for that matter) show legally taping with all their gear, perhaps you understand why I think this is extra funny.

This episode aired in February of 1978 and you almost want to go back to that time and tell everyone how the delivery of music to fans will change in the next 30 years because it would blow those people's minds.

There is nothing less interesting than hearing people talk about their dreams but I can't resist sharing this tidbit of a crazy dream I had the other night.

In one part there were these guys in rain slickers parachuting out of a helicopter while fish sticks were being thrown at them.

If you have even a tiny idea of what might be going on in my subconscious, please drop me a note.

According to How-Much-Is-Your-Blog-Worth? this site is worth about $500.

I don't care. It's not for sale. (That's slightly bitter sarcasm, if you weren't getting it.)

I had no idea sunflower seeds were such a problem on the playing field. Especially enough to require a special sign.

When I was younger I liked to drive around just for the sake of driving. I drove around a lot of backroads in Agoura. No doubt they are no longer back of anything and instead traffic choked roads leading between housing developments. I drove to the beach. I drove around a lot in Santa Barbara, too.

I don't like to drive any more. I just like to get somewhere.

When I drive, I like to be freakishly close the steering wheel, as if to embrace it fully, if need be. I think the real problem is my short stubby legs. Not that that's a problem. I'm sure Karuk women were prized for their short stubby legs. But this reality requires that I be close to the steering wheel if my feet are to reach the pedals.

I feel insecure if I have to reach with my feet. Things could get out of control at any moment.

What concerns me is if the day should come when the airbag blows up because I'm pretty certain that's not going to feel good. Sure, if I'm charging forward and collide with something moving at me, the airbag is probably going to be a lifesaver. What I'm worried about it that fender bender that's got just enough force to deploy the bag. WHAM! My face just got that much flatter.

I found it. It was in the bottom drawer of bureau down in the basement. I also still have my middle school P.E. shirt. Why? I throw away everything. I love throwing things away. It relaxes me to get rid of things. Yet I have these 2 shirts, plus my varsity letter from high school and a pair of pantaloons that were part of an actual real dress I wore ... in high school? Sounds doubtful, I can't remember the time frame but I've saved them thinking they might come in handy for a costume someday. Too bad I totally forgot I even had them until just now when I went looking for the band shirt.

I'm using this opportunity to show off my pumpkin harvest. They look great, huh. One of those puppies is going to be a Thanksgiving pie. (Probably about 17 thanksgiving pies. That's a lot of pumpkin there.)

You'd think will all this Photoshop practice that I'd fix the bumps on the pumpkins to make them prettier and make myself look more like Angelina Jolie. I don't have all day.

Here I am on my wedding day. Just kidding. I'm challenging myself to find photos where my sister makes a goofy expression. This one is classic. I can hear my dad behind the camera now, "Erin, don't make such a goofy face."

Those yellow t-shirts were our middle school band uniforms. I still have mine -- I think. I'd run and look but I don't feel like getting up right now. If I find it, and I can fit into it, I'll have Bob take a picture and post it later. Something to look forward to.

The actual occasion of this photo was my 8th grade graduation. Why that event requires a fancy (but very sweet) dress only to be worn once and a crown of roses and baby's breath is beyond me but I remember thinking I was looking pretty sharp.

Meanwhile, back in the present, my appetite is all wonky. I'm not very hungry. Not very many things sound good and when I finally do sit down to eat, I fill up quick. I don't think this is a problem. I don't feel unhealthy. It's just a surprise that the woman who used to be able to shovel down a half a loaf of bread slathered with a bucket of peanut butter in the morning before stopping at the Arbor (little food shack near the library at UCSB) to pick up my ginormous bran muffin (this was all before 9am), would now find herself thinking: oh, I should probably eat something. Then eating a banana and not being hungry again until 3pm.

I have only one more Photoshop class left. Now we're doing stuff with vectors and paths and I only about 50% get it. Today I re-did all the stuff we did in class and it took me all afternoon. But I still like it. I wish the class was another few weeks.

I thought once I started typing I'd come up with more stuff for you but really, I'm empty here. I'm only 6 books away from the 50 book goal, but I'm stuck on the one I'm reading (That Shadow of the Wind by Carlos Ruiz Zafon). It's not that I don't like it, but it's not impossible to put down. I'm going to crawl in bed in a few minutes and read some tonight.

For xmas I'm going to ask for something that my Dad can get me and will probably be fun for him to buy: a drill. I've gone through my entire life so far without a drill. How can this happen? All kinds of simple home projects are ignored because there is no drill.

My hand towel ring in the bathroom broke and since there is no conformity in the world -- seriously I looked at about 50 towel rings in at least 4 different stores trying to find the same thing -- I had an installation project on my hands. The old ring was configured horizontally. The new ring, vertically. I got sick of my hand towel sitting on the counter or shoved onto the regular towel rack (yes, these are the kinds of things that twist my knickers) so I used hand tools to install it.

Turns out I also need a drywall or wall patch fix it kit -- or whatever one needs to do that stuff. This hand towel ring was installed with those plastic things you chunk into the wall. God forbid should a heavy hand towel cause the thing to pop out of the wall. I covered one in the remodel but there is a giant red plastic thing/hole by my hand towel ring. Must learn to fix that.

I have a couple of wildly unrelated items here that I'm going to lump into 1 post.

First, check out Kiva which enables you to make a loan (like, $25) to a small business in another country. Read about it to get the details but it's a great idea.

By choosing a business on our website and then lending money online to that enterprise, you can "sponsor a business" and help the world's working poor make great strides towards economic independence. Throughout the course of the loan (usually 6-12 months), you can receive monthly email updates that let you know about the progress being made by the small business you've sponsored. ... As loans are repaid, you will get your original loan money back.

The second item has to do with my two favorite lines heard so far this TV season.

The first was on Smallville where Professor Milton Fine (and I think the character is more complicated than that but I'm not a diehard follower of Superman) the actor who played Spike, major vampire-guy on Buffy the Vampire Slayer, says to young Superman, "Clark, there's no such thing as vampires."

The second was on Greys Anatomy. Cristina Yang was looking for a severed foot and got into it with an EMT and said, "I can't straddle another ego right now. I'm already doing the splits."

I need my big snoring mammal home.

Bob has been in Las Vegas whooping it up at Vegoose -- a hippie band marathon. He's going to be next to worthless when he gets back. Yes, there will be snoring.

I went to bed at 10pm on Saturday and didn't fall asleep until around 2a. I did manage to catch up on some reading. Last night I went to bed and I woke up at 3:30a.

I feel like I could sleep now which is a shame since I need to be going to work soon.

A decent weekend. Saturday I baked a chocolate cake and the writers came over for our last meeting. After they left I watched Bride and Prejudice by the director who made Bend it Like Beckham and found it almost unwatchable. I had no idea it was a cheesy musical in the Bollywood tradition. I don't like musicals period. The Bollywood version did nothing to convince me otherwise. The best part was the actor who plays Sayeed on Lost was the central dancer a wild dance number which was hilarious.

Yesterday I met Charlene downtown and we had banana pancakes for breakfast and then went for a walk. It was sunny and beautiful. After I dropped her at the airport I zoomed home and made myself put on my jeans and I harvested the pumpkins and put the garden to bed.

Happy Halloween. I have a big bowl of candy. I bought the things we like. Even in good weather we don't get a crowd at the door so if it's monsooning tonight I expect it will be pretty quiet.

Charlene suggested that I dress as a stick of licorice. I could go around in a black body stocking all day. When I gaped she said I could sew some licorice sticks into a skirt so people would know what I am. I found a pirate hat from this summer and I'm thinking I'll go with that.

Bob saw some cheapo long handled tongs on the kitchen counter. He picked them up and asked me what they were for.

I told him I bought them at Target because I dropped some stuff behind my desk at work (pack of gum, hair clip -- critical items) and I didn't know how to get them. He thought this was hilarious. (FYI -- I haven't had a chance to try it yet but I'm already concerned my arm isn't long enough.)

Another time we were out for our morning walk and I carried a new flashlight I bought because I can never find flashlights when I need them. Bob claims we have lots of them but they must be in a secret place that only he knows about. Because you know spouses do that to each other: constantly hide things so no one can find anything.

So we're on this walk and I see something moving in the park and I figured it was a bunny. I grabbed the flashlight but I couldn't turn it on. I was twisting the top and twisting the bottom and pushing the bottom and searching for a button. Bob couldn't stop laughing.

Today rated high to super high on the incredibly miserable scale. I won't go into all the details.

So after this long miserable day I had to step out into the downpour to get to the train. I apparently mis-timed it because instead of the 5:50pm train that I wanted I had to stand there for about 15 minutes until a train arrived. A good thing: it was the train driver who is my new friend. We chatted on the way home one night when I took a later train after yoga. He always makes little announcments about the weather and tells people to have a good night at the park-n-ride stop.

I generally use one of those big paper carrier bags with handles that you get from the department store when you buy clothes for hauling my crap back and forth: lunch/breakfast stuff, reading materials, yoga clothes. I know what happens when paper gets wet but it wasn't raining when I left yesterday and I had no idea how much standing around in the rain I would have to do.

So after this long and miserable day I am hurrying to my car in the dark, in steady rain with a modest wind and my bag completely disintigrates. I can't even hold it together so I can get my stuff back to the car. I have to crouch there in the rain and shove things in pockets and a little plastic bag I had. Everything getting soaked. Not a shred of dignity anywhere to be seen.

It wasn't even like a funny mishap. It was completely heartbreaking and demoralizing.

Saturday morning we went for a long walk and this is one of the photos I took.

I've explained my eMac has had a monitor malfunction but yesterday morning, while I was answering email, it miraculously flickered back into full color. I didn't know what to think. I was almost afraid to do anything except at that point, why bother having a computer?

The color worked all day. I worked through my Photoshop exercises and applied them to my own projects. The day was fabulously sunny and it seemed a waste to spend the entire day at the computer so I took a break and brought my Photoshop book to the front porch and read about Photoshop in the wonderful sunshine. And I saw a bald eagle.

I also did a bunch of yardwork. Cleaned up dead stuff. Raked compost-y stuff together. Tore out a ton more ivy. Actually, that's a lie. It wasn't a ton. It was only a tiny bit but it's such hard work it might as well have been a ton. At this rate I'll have it all torn out by my 50th birthday. (Which is many, many years from now.)

This morning the computer was back to its redless-self. We already know what we're going to buy but would prefer to wait until several months from now. I think I'm going to continue to limp along and hope it flickers back one of these days. The accompanying photo was adjusted without red. How did I do?

It was a nice weekend. This afternoon I tossed almost all the last tomatoes in a pot and made tomato soup. I picked my pumpkin (look for a photo soon!) and composted a few potted plants that have become a pain in the ass. I chucked a bunch of bark dust on a corner of the yard that desperately needed it. I still haven't pulled the tomato plants. They keep producing a few tomatoes. It would seem just cruel. As I recall, last year I pulled everything in September I was so sick of it.

I'm trying to learn to draw and I bought a book and today's lesson was to do a self portrait and then draw someone I know from memory. Boy, if you need a good laugh, I suggest this lesson. How the hell do you draw a nose? For my person from memory I drew Bob which basically means a man with glasses holding a flash drive in his clenched fist. The author says I'm going to see a big improvement after I've practiced the lessons. I hope so.

I've been practicing my Photoshop skills. I did some very light fixing on this photo (left) and then did some fancy border thing which looked juvenile so I'm not posting that version.

This is my Grandfather and I don't know the story behind the photo or even when it was taken. It's one of the huge batch I've been scanning.

He worked for the forest service in northern California and SE Alaska, so I like the idea of him hanging at Joshua Tree (pure speculation) esp. in a sweater, tie and slacks. As I was working on this, I noticed the tie and decided we needed a close up of that.

Also he's got his cigar, something I remember about him. If he was still alive he would be 102 next month.

For some reason, on my days off, the first thing I eat in the morning is almost always total garbage. Cookies. Chocolate. Cold leftovers shoveled in while I stand with the refrigerator door open.

On the weekdays my breakfast is pathologically healthy: fruit, plain yogurt, meusli.

I don't know why I do that on the weekends. Then I'm too full to eat something good and not like my day is off to a good start.

This morning the commute was hideous. It's bad enough that it was hideous except that it was the second time in 4 days it took me more than 30 minutes: just to get on the freeway. It's less than 2 miles from my house.

I know I need to learn to be zen and go with the flow but honestly it makes me crazy. I hate commuting. I've always hated commuting and there is no easy solution. The only 4 days a week thing helps. If can't learn to live with it I either have to move or find a different job and I don't want to do either of those things.

Completely unrelated, but you may have seen ads or read reviews of a movie that just came out called Stay. I read the script several months ago and I'd offer a link but it's taking too long to find. If you're determined to read it, I'm sure you can figure out how to track it down.

I intended to write a rant about it then, not understanding that it was actually going to be made into a movie. There is some teeny, tiny spoilage ahead, but trust me, not worth worrying about. If you've read even one review you know it's a twist movie and it's not a cool twist, it's a stupid twist. You are taken on a journey into some twisted reality where all kinds of bizarre, unexplained stuff happens, and then you find out why and you want to throw something against the wall.

I've seen the trailer and the movie looks like it might be good, definitely well made: Marc Forester directed and Ewan McGregor and Ryan Gosling and bunch of other good actors. Why? Why does more or less the same dopey twist keep getting made into a movie?

I bought this just to show you the amazing power of soy. It's soy-deliciousl

Why is my Sister wearing this Hat?
I worked on the whole family photo archiving project again today. I can't remember when I started it, but it turns out scanning family photos is not a quickie weekend project. I found out from reading a Photoshop magazine that I can scan more than 1 photo at a time which is the only reason I revisited the project. Now instead of taking forever, it's only going to take half that long.

I would post a bunch on Flickr so you could chuckle along with me, except the whole monitor bad/can't color correct issue. Just enjoy Erin and her skipper hat that she is wearing for some reason at Disneyland, for my birthday, I'm guessing December, around 1980.

Yesterday we saw Elizabethtown, Cameron Crowe's new movie and we had wildly divergent opinions, and not what you'd predict. I thought it was about a half dozen brilliant scenes strung together will filler and random crap. If the protagonist had been anyone other than the adorable Orlando Bloom I would have been forced to nap between high spots. Bob thought it was brilliant and personal and reminiscent of French filmmaking blah blah blah. I think the nanosecond flash of Kirsten Dunst's panties hypnotized him.

Also yesterday, I finally made tamales and they turned out FANTASTIC. It was labor intensive but no more so than making gumbo or lasagna. I have never made them before and what I did was read about 10 recipes. Tamales are sort of like lasagna in that once you see how they're put together -- you can figure out how you want to do it.

This was my primary source. The thing with that recipe is that it makes a bazallion and I wasn't sure I wanted to tackle that my first time out. I also had zero interest in cooking pork. But I used that as my base and then used the other recipes for ideas on fillings and seasonings. The package directions on the masa said it was for about 12 tamales and this seemed more reasonable so I used this to guide making the corn part.

It was surprisingly easy but I wished I had a more experienced chef to ask questions. The corn husks were packaged in thick packets and I wasn't sure if I was supposed to unlayer them. Also they were completely round like they were pulled of the corn so I cut them open and there was ooky stuff inside which I rinsed off. Also I have leftover husks that I soaked. Can I put them in the oven and let them dry out again and then put them in a ziplock bag for next time? Common sense would suggest that this is a fire hazard but I'm doing it now and monitoring very closely.

I also made a mole which I've never done. Erin brought me some seasonings called mole dulce last year and I never knew what to do with it. You add a bunch of spices to chicken broth (which I had 3 gallons of from cooking the chicken) and then let it reduce on the stove and then stir in some chocolate at the end. I swapped out the chili powder with the mole dulce and it looked like chocolate syrup but it tasted fantastic: spicy, dark and rich.

I think tamales will go in the rotation. They are super yummy and now that I know what I'm doing I could make a big batch and freeze a bunch. Do you freeze them before or after steaming them?

I had a whole bunch of stuff to update you on but I don't know where it all went.

I thought about doing a long update on my shows and how they are all connected somehow to Buffy & Angel, but I don't think you care that much. I will give you a partial report and say: Invasion is excellent. Bones is also excellent but after a couple of episodes they're on a temporary hiatus while this baseball thing is finishing up. It's October. It's cold and windy. Shouldn't baseball be finished by now? I watched one Desperate Housewives and proclaimed myself finished. There is a fine line between stupid and guilty pleasure and that show has been reclassified as stupid.

Last weekend I watched a movie called Osama which I had heard was very good. I want you to understand that I do not have a problem with "hard" movies and I like movies that make me look at things in a different way or open my eyes to things I don't know about. I didn't completely remember what Osama was about, and if it had been a segment on an evening newsshow, yes it was excellent. But in terms of kicking back on a Sunday afternoon to watch a movie that you vaguely remember has something to do about a little girl in Afghanistan, this was an awful movie. I won't give it all away but it's about this little girl and her dad and uncle are dead and there is no way for the family to get food or money so they dress her up as a boy so she can get a job. Her situation goes from bad to worse to completely and utterly tragic and then the movie is over. There is not even a droplet of hope when the credits roll. That was probably the filmmakers intention and it worked. It invoked incredible outrage for the situation for women over there. It also bummed out my entire day.

I think I mentioned before that my computer display has pooped out. I finally called a Mac service place yesterday and talked to a very nice Mac-Tech-Service-Geek and he knew what I was talking about before I had the words out of my mouth. The problem is the screen doesn't display red. I can get by when I'm going email or this, but I'm taking a Photoshop class and practicing color correction is quite interesting under these circumstances. The repair is around $350-400. My digital video board is failing. Or something like that. The computer is barely 2 years old, but for a little more than double that I can get a whole new computer so we're looking into that at the moment. The Apple G5 is looking pretty good.

Yesterday I did a bit of yardwork. I totally wasn't in the mood, but the sun was out and it was nice and it seemed foolish to waste the day sitting in the house practicing Photoshop when I could be cleaning up the yard and enjoying the sun in my shirtsleeves. I managed to harvest another basket of tomatoes. I left the plants in but figured they'd be wrecked b/c of the rain, but no. They look good. I don't know what kind of tomato plant this is but it's been a champ -- produced zillions of pretty, yummy tomatoes, and keeps on going. I also dug around in the front a little bit and pulled out and cut back dead stuff. It didn't take long for me to grow bored of it.

In the afternoon I made a Buttermilk Pie using a recipe from the NY Times. I've never had it before, although I've seen the recipe and was always curious to try it. It's yummy -- a light, cheesecake flavored pie. Bob love it.

Today we plan to see Elizabethtown, new Cameron Crowe movie and then this afternoon is my first try at making tamales. Full report tomorrow.

Is it my imagination or is FM radio sucking less lately?

For awhile it seemed like you'd go for days without hearing anything unexpected. It was the same old teeny-bopper hits or smarmy ballads. And the dinosaur rock stations play the same classics AC/DC and Zepplin songs over and over. And the 80's stations play the same Duran Duran and Thompson Twins hits.

Now there are two stations on my dial that almost always play something interesting. Like a mix of lots of good songs 70's to present. Station #1 is more alternative -- they played The Toy Dolls the other morning. Station #2 plays more of a mix but it's songs you actually want to hear. I think that's their motto: "Songs you actually want to hear."

Since I quit writing there is one thing that I've been enjoying a lot more lately, and that is reading in bed first thing in the morning. (Not on work days. On work days I need to be on my feet, quick as I can.)

I remember this is something I always did when I was a kid. Read before bed. Read late into the night. First thing upon waking: sit up, turn on light and read.

I used to do this sometimes on vacation but now I've been doing it almost every weekend and it is truly one of the great joys of life.

We went to see Patti Smith at Powell's this afternoon.

I have to admit I was a wee bit concerned what it was going to be like going downtown on a Saturday afternoon, especially Powell's. We got an early start and parked in an out of the way lot arrived in the designated spot before they had even set up chairs.

We went about the business of looking at books and when the chairs were set up, snagged a couple right up front. The event wasn't a crazy as I imagined but then, I have an over-active imagination particularly when it comes to potentially crowded events. But the room was full and Patti's crowd is quite a range. A lot of hipsters dressed in all black with fancy eyewear and spiky hair. But lots of middle aged dorky people like us, a few brought their kids. There was a nice camaraderie while waiting.

Patti was there to read from a new book of poems that's just out. She was wonderful as always. I'm having trouble articulating a quick summary that captures her. She's one of those incredibly talented, sharp and arty people who manages to also come across as someone that you'd feel perfectly at ease with having coffee or hiking through the hills.

My pumpkin patch has a total of 4 pumpkins. Well, had 4, now there are 3.

One is gigantic and beautiful. Two are probably not going to have enough time to ripen properly. The fourth one was majorly damaged when it was small.

Critters made some big marks in it, but I left it alone and it continued grow and the marked up part healed over and the pumpkin became a lovely reddish-orange color. (Perhaps I should clarify that these are Cinderella pumpkins just in case you didn't know.)

I thought I'd harvest the thing and bake a pie today. I brought it in and washed it off and used a mallet and cleaver to split and and, ... ew.

There were parts of orange pumpkin-y goodness that smelled sweet and wonderful and there were parts that were brown and mushy and smelled like low tide.

Sadly, Mr. pumpkin went back into the patch where he can compost for next year.

Meanwhile, I decided to use a Grange cookbook recipe that caught my eye. Long story but I had this box of yellow cake mix that I didn't know what to do with and this recipe uses 1 box of yellow cake mix.

For the recipe you bake the cake mix according to package instructions (9x13 pan); take the baked cake out of the oven and while still hot, poke holes in it with a fork and then dump a can of crushed pineapple, juice and all, over the cake. Let the cake cool and then make two packages of instant vanilla pudding and when it sets a bit, spread that over the cake. Then spread a tup of Cool Whip on that. I've never even bought Cool Whip before.

It came out fantastic.

In the lunchroom at the office I found a quiz that had been copied from Newsweek magazine: Are You A Type D? I didn't read the article and can't remember the last time I even touched a Newsweek magazine. The fact that the magazine now contains stupid quizzes illustrates its worthlessness better than any words I could come up with.

But that didn't stop me from taking the quiz.

Apparently there are "social and emotional" problems associated with a Type D personality that can increase your chances of heart disease.

The first question is: I make contact easily when I meet people. You're supposed to answer False, Less False, Neutral, Less True, True.

Do you even understand the question? What does "make contact" mean? Are they asking me do I connect easily when I meet people? And what's the definition of "meet"? When you're in a business or social event and you're introduced to someone? Or when you need a place to sit on the train?

My answer was False. I'm not a social failure but it usually takes me awhile to warm up to brand new people. I got a whopping 4 points for my answer. I'd like to point out that when I was younger I did suffer considerable heartburn over my uneasiness in social situations but now I hardly think about it. Who cares?

There are 14 questions total. Another example: I often feel inhibited in social interactions. Are we talking about a family get together or a big party where you only know the host? Are there people who don't feel inhibited at certain social interactions?

So you get my point that the questions are stupid. Half the questions focused on alleged social inadequacies while the other half on negativity. Example: I am often irritated. Well these questions are irritating the hell out of me, I guess that's a 4. (I actually gave myself a 4+).

On my negativity I got 9 and I needed a 10 to "qualify" as a Type D. But my social inhibition I got 13: Type D, I'm in the club!

The first three items come to you via boingboing.

Too much time on their hands? Someone taught dolphins to sing the theme from batman.

A musician who refuses to pimp his catalog for big bucks. Yay him.

Cool painting of a giant king salmon on an Alaska Air jet. The part I don't get is that this was paid for by a federal grant and the idea is that this is an "important tool to promote wild Alaska seafood."

This last item via Susie Bright:

Entertain yourself for hours as you use your mouse to bump him around. Seriously, try this. It's a guaranteed laugh.

Wow, the precipitation situation went from 0 to 60 in about 4 seconds flat. I like rain as much as the next person up here but it would have been nice to have a transition period. Maybe some drizzle before the downpour. On Friday I got my hair cut and I told her not to even bother with the styling. I had tons of errands and I still hadn't brought in the last of the tomatoes so there seemed little point in hair ironing since I'd be sporting a huge frizz bomb no matter what she did. She put it in a nice braid.

I had another busy week last week. I'm taking two classes at the moment which I didn't intend to do, but one didn't finish before the other started so there's an unfortunate overlap. Plus the Noon yoga on Wednesday means that I attempt to be out the door by 7am almost every day and I get home between 7 and 9pm. It's not horrible, it just makes accomplishing anything besides eating, sleeping and basic hygiene something of a challenge.

One thing I did do on Friday, beside paddle my canoe between my haircut and errands: I made a point of seeing Serenity a movie by Joss-is-My-Master-Now Whedon. You know, the man responsible for Buffy the Vampire Slayer and Angel (subjects of endless yammering on my part) and Firefly a TV series which was yanked off the air before its time and is the basis for the new movie.

The movie is fantastic. Adventure, humor, space battles, fights. I loved it. I was a little disappointed to see it didn't kick more ass at the box office. World: go check out this movie.

I only have a few cucumbers in the bottom of the crisper. They look in pretty good shape but their days are numbered. I peeled and sliced a big bowl full for myself since the spousal unit is not a cucumber eater. Did another batch of tomato sauce today and will bring it to co-worker tomorrow. The spousal unit is also not big on tomatoes and I already have 4 big batches of sauce stored -- no reason to go crazy.

The dahlias took quite a beating in the rain although the Emory Pauls still look great which I never would have expected. These flowers are gigantic. When they first bloomed I stood out in my yard and said: I grew this.

I have never worked in a tall building before.

The tallest building was the one in Sherman Oaks, I think we were on the 2nd floor of a 5 story building. After an earthquake the building was deemed to be unsafe but the boss made us come to work anyway. The morning of the quake I helped my neighbor sweep glass and tried to get things put back together and the boss called me and wanted to know why I was late. (He also once called me on day #3 of a killer ass flu and complained that I needed to get back to work.)

Before that job moved to the earthquake hazard, our previous building had been severely damaged in a fire of a suspicious nature. He made us come to work then, too. We had to sign a release and then climb stairs through charred walls and breathe burned plastic smell that probably took 10 years off my life.

I was long gone by the time the Northridge quake came along but I understand the building he was in at that time was wrecked as well. You have to wonder if it was him or just an amazing coincidence.

This post wasn't intended to be about the world's worst boss, it's about working in a tall building.

One new thing is elevator culture. We're on the 18th floor which means that if I get on with a bunch of other people, it takes forever to get to my floor. I know. Nothing to whine about since at least I don't have to use a ladder or climb a knotted rope to get to the office. But probably for "safety reasons" the stairs aren't open. (Anyone besides me who sees a hole in this logic, raise your hand.) And sometimes you are the only one in the elevator and you still have to stop at 4, then 5, then 7, then 8, for people who need to go up one floor. WIth a plate of cookies.

But mostly people are polite and hold the elevator for you and let the ladies in and out first and say good morning, or, your lunch smells good.

The other comment was that I'd always imagined it would be quiet up there. You'd be amazed at how much street noise I can hear at my desk. Not just sirens. There's a document shredding truck that comes once a week that announces its arrival with the hydraulic whine and then thump of the giant bin filled with secret papers that are about to be ground up with loud churning and grinding. In the summer I can hear the kids squealing at the Salmon Street fountain. And one afternoon some guy played "Somewhere over the Rainbow" on the trumpet for hours until I was ready to go find him and offer him $20 to move to the other side of town.

Now that the cool weather is coming in, we'll see how much cold seeps through those giant windows. If so, maybe I can get a brick to heat in the microwave and then put under my desk by my feet like Laura Ingalls when Almonzo took her home from her teaching job in the sled in the middle of a blizzard.

Hectic week. Lots of leaving early and getting home late including yesterday. Yesterday also included a more than advisable amount of adult beverages which has resulted in today being pretty much a wash. We did get to the farmer's market and I did 3 loads of laundry and had some good Bob time. But most of the time was spent on the couch with occasional breaks to catch up on reading.

The movie I watched during critical morning couch time was DiG! a documentary about The Brian Jonestown Massacre and The Dandy Warhols. And I'll add this explanation since the majority of my readership is probably scratching its head at the moment: those are rock bands. I have passing knowledge of the DW and perhaps have heard of BJM but don't know much about them or their music. I can't remember where I heard about the documentary but it is riveting.

It's a well crafted piece of film and the people are either raging creative geniuses or complete train wrecks: you decide. I love the music and the documentary shows a lot about the music industry and what kind of crap musicians go through. Highly recommended.

The photo above is of two piggy banks that Priscilla gave to us a long time ago. Originally they had candy money in them but that's long gone. We keep them in our laundry room and all the change that goes through the washer is deposited into the banks. FYI - I do not keep change in my pockets, or anywhere else that would result in it going through the wash. This morning I finally had to empty one because they were both too full and I couldn't even fit the .37¢ from today's laundry into either of the little plastic bodies.

This morning there was an unfortunate intersection of cranky morning people in our kitchen. We were both in a hurry to make our lunch and get the hell on the road and we picked this moment to discuss what dinner might consist of. I said, "I have GOT to do something with that zucchini," for about the 10th time since the zucchini was delivered to me from Orleans and Bob muttered something unkind under his breath which set me off.

I used my advance adult communication skills and demonstrated my irritation by stomping around and slamming things.

Later, as I got ready to leave I went to kiss him good bye and he said, "Do you still love me?"

"No," I said, "You were mean to my zucchini."

He called me at the office at 10am and we were still laughing.

Orleans Bridge

My, this is not looking good is it?

I mean my blogging. I sit down here enough but I never seem to have much to say, or if I do, I don't feel like typing it. Perhaps I am edging towards ending all writing unless I'm getting paid for it. But I doubt it.

I'm trying to learn more about Photoshop. Kristl loaned me a huge pile of books at the beginning of summer plus a couple of DVDs. I'm getting ready to return all the stuff and I've been though almost everything. Still working on 2 books and a couple of DVDs. I didn't think I would get much out of sitting in front of the TV watching a Photoshop demo, but I was wrong. I get my notebook out and rewind as needed. I'm also taking a class that starts next week.

Here's the thing. My eMac has a screwed up wire somewhere and my screen color is completely fubar. This happened for a short time while we were still under warranty but it disappeared and I was happy to avoid having to get it checked out. But now the problem is back. Intermittent but on more than off. I've done a little research and it doesn't look good. And I don't want to spend any money getting it fixed since this is a cheapo computer to begin with. I don't know what I'm going to do but the point is, I can't learn or practice anything having to do with color correction because it all looks cast in blue.

I started watching Veronica Mars this summer. I got into about the last 6 episodes. It totally grew on me and I just watched last year's season finale which had me SCREAMING at the TV. And guess when the new season premieres? What is my ONLY non-negotiable TV show? Yeah, Lost. Who puts VM on opposite Lost? I think VM is one of those shows that they repeat on the weekends so I hope I can still be in the loop that way.

Also, does anyone understand how the DVR recording works? I pick series recording. I pick FIRST RUN and later when I turn on my TV and check My DVR I have 5 episodes of the Simpsons and 7 episodes of Daily Show - every day. I'm going to have to hire someone to come in part time and delete all the duplicates. Can the TV tell I've already taped a certain show and ignore it the next time? That's the product I want.

Also at the moment I'm reading The Perfect Storm. I never saw the movie and I guess I'm the last person on the planet to read the book. It's like watching the Titanic. You know how it ends but you can't help but hope that somehow it will end differently. I'm not big on boats to begin with. Someday I'm going to put up a gallery of photos of me on a boat (distressed face) and Bob has a classic of me jumping off a boat looking like I just won the lottery. But this book has ensured that I will never get on a boat, ever again. Not even that boat ride at Disneyland.

Tomorrow the plan is to do some dahlia maintenance. I've purchased new bulbs three years in a row, plus I have some red and yellow ones that Kimberlee gave me in the beginning to get me started. I've never taken them out in winter or divided them. I also had zero plan when I put them in the ground. Just used a trowel and found a spot and there they went. I do have a record of what I've purchased and I have a vague memory of what I put in what year, so tomorrow I'm going to get out there and label them so that I can identify after the first frost when I dig them up. Then I can divide and share. I'm also going to organize them better and get some of the smaller ones out from under the big giant ones. This is all in theory since I can see myself growing tired of this project about an hour into it.

How much did you pay for gas over the weekend? (Willow Creek, California)

The time in my life when I was at my heaviest weight was in college, I can't remember which year. The top was probably 40-45 lbs. more than I weigh right now. There is a series of photos taken at this time of Erin and me packed up and ready to go back to school. I am stuffed into grey cords and a pink sweater and sport the most hideous Keith Partridge shag haircut you could imagine, as if I'd accepted a challenge to look as unappealing as possible. I have systematically searched out and destroyed these photos without mercy.

I should add that I'm not normally uptight about looking doofy in old pictures. I love the picture of me in the orange plaid floody pants or the gymnastics picture with the goofy hairbraids. But the ultra-chubby photo was taken at a time when I was so filled with self-loathing for myself, I can't bear to be reminded of it.

I was in Orleans in June and at my Grandma's looking at old photos and I found one of these pictures. Why would anyone have shared this terrible picture of me? Was it to say: "Hey, she can only improve with age" or "Keep this, we can blackmail her with it later"?

In the moment I left it there thinking it wasn't mine to take but as soon as I left I wished I'd grabbed it. This past weekend I was back at Grandma's and I made a beeline for the photo albums, found the photo, pulled it out and tore it to pieces. Then I threw it in the fire.

That person doesn't exist anymore.

Captain Kirk Party
Howdy. Excellent vacation. One of the best ever--seriously. We had a party every day except one and that day we had TWO parties.

Usually I'm happy to be home but I could have handled a few more days of this one. I spent the day harvesting tomatoes and washing clothes and in a burst of industry I swept out the garage with pathological thoroughness. (Yup, used a vacuum in the corners).

Very busy week or two coming up so who knows how often I end up here? I have lots more pictures so will try to at least throw a few of those up now and then. (That's my Mom and Dad in the photo, FYI).

I've been meaning to do this forever. Here is a list of blogs I read regularly.

Every weekday starts with checking Gawker.com : "the source for daily Manhattan media news and gossip" and Defamer.com which covers L.A. movie biz news and gossip.

My other daily read is: Dooce who is a ruthlessly honest 30-something woman who writes about motherhood, poop, depression and life in Utah and rarely fails to be HILARIOUS. If nothing else read this item.

Also on the daily list is Indianz.com which consolidates news and government actions in Indian Country and is excellent for keeping us in the loop at the office.

My other two favorite daily reads are: Kottke.org and Boingboing.net. These sites consolidate a variety of fun Internet stuff, odd sites, and also Internet culture and happenings. I never fail to find something cool at either of these sites.

Some other sites checked regularly but not necessarily daily are: Fussy.org another funny Mom and yoga person; belle de jour diary of a London Call girl; Go Fug Yourself a deliciously mean-spirited fashion commentary site; Mobylives.com news and commentary on books and writers.

Finally, I'll link to 43 folders site which is about being organized and you'd think it would turn me on but instead I find it creepy and terrifying.

That should keep you busy if I'm away for a few days.

I had a bunch of errands to do this morning and I can't complain, they all went surprisingly smooth. I always approach a giant list of errands with dread. There are few things I want badly enough to run all over town to get. It's generally only out of necessity (e.g. holiday) or in honor of someone else (e.g. gifts). Today was a little of both.

I went to Target in Jantzen Beach and it's no surprise that store has become lamer since the thrill of its grand opening not too long ago. All the stores at Jantzen Beach are lame. The place is practically a graveyard. Or what's a word for a dreadful place where people only go because there's no other choice or they're desperate? The traffic plan was invented by a sadist. It's fairly awful on a weekday morning before Noon -- I can't comprehend what it might be like at xmas. The stores are huge and far apart. Walking is discouraged. There's the sense that it's a place no one can admit has been defeated.

I think the entire thing could be razed and started over from square one with traffic in mind, light rail included and a mix of residential and retail with fun outdoor eating, parks and places to walk. There's a gold mine under all that asphalt and brick.

But back to Target. I couldn't find anything I needed. If anyone needs a sportsbra in size 38D, white -- Jantzen Beach is your spot. Otherwise: hard cheese. I wanted some watch-type batteries and wrote down the number and everything. A kid saw me examine the display and hurried over to help me. He didn't see the number I was looking for (like I needed help with that) and encouraged me to try Circuit City. He had a terrible stutter and in my anxiety to not make him feel self-conscious, I thanked him profusely even though he was completely useless.

I'm home now (obviously). We've had an odd damp day and a huge crack of thunder went off over the house and for a split-second I thought the roof was cracking.

Remember a few days ago I said I had a note that said "air" or "Giv" and I didn't know what I meant? I remembered. [I can't get the link to target thing to work right now and as usual I just sat down here for 3 seconds to type this note and I'm not going to take the time to figure it out. Just scroll down to item#5 on August 22.]

It was "air" as in air conditioning. I love the effects of air conditioning and I'm glad it's part of the world but I don't understand why the world thinks that the appropriate temperature to cool a room or building down to is 55 degrees. There you are in your cute sundress or shorts and tank and you walk into a store or someone's home or the movies and you need to find a sweater. I carry a sweater EVERYWHERE.

We had air conditioning installed before this summer which has been wonderful but it does get a little chilly in the rooms with the main vents. In my room, where the computer is, it practically blows on my legs which I do not like and I close the vent when I'm at my desk.

Today has been an odd day because it was just warm enough to kick on the air but not quite warm enough that I could appreciate it. As soon as the cold air came wafting out of the vent I had goosebumps on my arms and legs. Also you should know that I'm pretty cheap when it comes to energy expended on environmental comfort. I set the air at 74 degrees and I'm still cold.

It's my intention to post almost every day. Seriously.

I have ideas of things to write about but then it's a matter of sitting down and organizing my thoughts and then constructing some sentences that sound at least halfway coherent and possibly finding a few links. But then I'm at home and I'm tired or have already sat in front of the computer all day or whatever thing I wanted to write about earlier doesn't sound half as interesting and before you know it 4-5 days have gone by and no new posts. Whether I'm making excuses or apologizing, you be the judge.

On Friday night we saw Los Lobos at the Vancouver Jazz and Wine Festival or whatever it was called. Excellent evening. We enjoyed refreshing adult beverages and a variety of foods. It was a nice crowd but not crowded. The air was cool and a bit breezy.

We had chairs and a nice place to sit but after a couple of songs I wanted to go up front so I dashed up to the concrete in front of the stage and the rest of our crew joined me a half song later. While we were dancing and carrying on, people were shouting requests and Bob said "Mr. Fantasy" which he'd heard Los Lobos play before. A kid in front of us -- about 8 years old -- was dancing with his hippy-ish looking folks and he looks at Bob and goes, "That's Traffic. Mr. Fantasy is Traffic." Three cheers for that kid's parents that their 8 year old son knows Traffic. "They do it too," Bob told him, meaning Los Lobos and the kid turned around and shouted, "Mr. Fantasy!"

I'm trying to get the fridge emptied out. We're having Priscilla over for dinner tonight and making a quasi-fajita thing we've invented. I suggested it because I had 3 bell peppers in the fridge and this seemed an optimal way to get rid of them. Little did I know my spouse ran over to the farmer's market yesterday and picked up 6 (SIX!) bell peppers. On what planet do 3 people eat 6 giant bell peppers for one meal much less 9 which is what we now have? That man needs constant adult supervision.

This morning for breakfast I had some honey Greek-style yogurt from Trader Joes with meusli and some blackberries that I harvested from the backyard last night. It was excellent.

I'm off to take care of some chores.

I finally posted a photo of my Star Wars purse, made by Liz at Bolsa Bonita.

The dang critters keep eating my pumpkins. You'd think they'd give up if they didn't like the first one but no, they have to take a chunk out of every one. I've got a couple that look like they'll make it but they won't be perfectly pretty. Pumpkin vines are crazy. I think I have two plants and they have taken over the garden. That and cucumbers.

Here are a bunch of odds and ends that I've scribbled on paper and then never sat down to write about.

1. Obviously I've never done my train story and the moment is gone now. Here's more info on the Lewis and Clark Explorer. We had a wonderful day on the train. The folks who run the train are total Lewis and Clark geeks and train geeks so lots of fun information. The photos of our day are here.

2. In the midst of all my cleaning and throwing things away -- which is still going on, I am finding things that I bought and have never used. This causes me a great deal of distress. I imagine there are lots of folks in this world who do this regularly and hardly think twice about it but it makes me feel bad to be wasteful. I have software I never quite figured out and books I've never even cracked and clothes I wore once and hated but left in the closet in case I would wear them again.

3. Bob got a new car. I need to take a photo of it. It's a Honda Accord and he reports it's like "riding a pillow of air."

4. I took some of my knives in to get them sharpened. I took my old chefs knife to a potluck thing because you know how there are never enough knives, serving spoons or towels at a potluck? Someone thanked me for bringing such a nice sharp knife and this was before I got it sharpened. It was like a butter knife. I can't imagine what her knives are like at home. The first time I used it, sharpened, I managed to whack a notch in my index finger. I'm taking the rest of my knives in this week.

5. My note looks like it says "air" or "Giv" -- can't imagine what I wanted to say about that.

6. Bob got me the new Bob Mould on emusic. It's fantastic. He's going to be in town in October. Can't wait.

I've been scanning old family photos this weekend. Last time I was in Orleans I took a couple of photo albums home. The albums have lost their adhesive and the photos are jumbled up. I bought some photo-archive boxes and clear plastic sleeves and I'm taking them from the jumble, scanning and then putting them in individual sleeves and into the box. It's way more labor intensive than I imagined.

The scanning process takes too long to sit with each individual photo. But there are a couple of menus to click through and no step takes long enough that you can turn away and accomplish something else. I've gone through 3 pages so far. Only about 16 more to go.