Ugly Sweater Parties

What is the opposite of preaching to the choir? Preaching to the heathens that wander into church for the free sip of wine? I'm not sure. Anyway, that's what I'm doing right now as I know for a fact that I am the only twentysomething in the country who has never attended an ugly sweater party. And I know that some of you have even hosted these theme parties yourself. 

Now, in the spirit of full disclosure, I would like to say that I have never been invited to an ugly sweater party. So I can't claim that I've ever taken a principled stance and actually refused an invitation to one of these things. I don't have much will power, and I don't want to make it seem like I feel strongly enough about this issue that I would give up the rare opportunity to leave my one-room hermitage just to make a point. As you can see, such opportunities are few and far between for me. It is 7:30 PM on a Friday night and I am at home by myself posting to a blog that is, at best, read by five people (but five people of the highest quality, might I add). 

Anyway, all I know is that ugly sweater parties have gotten out of control. By this I mean that last time I was in Value Village (which is a second-hand store where I buy most of my clothes these days, except for underwear, which I now order online from gap.com. Is that too much information?) there were two girls in front of me, either SPU or UW students, sometimes it's hard to tell. (No offense. I mean, some of my best friends are UW students.) I could tell this because the girl placed two ugly sweaters on the counter and asked if she could pay for one with a debit card and one with cash, because it was for her roommate. 

Maybe I'm just bitter because the only time I ever placed a costume choice in the hands of a roommate I ended up being the red Power Ranger for Halloween. Bronwyn got to be Superman, her friend got to be Batman, and Cara got to be Spiderman and I was the red Power Ranger. I had never even seen the Power Rangers. 

But that is irrelevant. The point is I thought having an ugly sweater party was funny when I first heard about it. But now I don't get it. At this point it's no longer an original idea by any stretch of the imagination, but it's also about ten years too early for it to be an ironic party theme ("Let's have an ugly sweater party. It'll be so 2007! Like when they thought it was so funny to have parties to make fun of the sweaters people wore in the '80's.")

Apologies. I'll dismount from my soapbox now (10! She sticks the landing!). I haven't been this controversial since 2006 when I wrote about pink baseball caps and Kenli accused me of hating breast cancer victims. 

Untitled

I've decided to post again even though I am not particularly inspired, nor do I have anything to say, just to keep up the momentum and to keep this from becoming the now-defunct non-blog. 

To answer your questions: tuna head was vetoed, as in it will not be appearing in the company e-newsletter, but we still like to call it that (behind Greg's back, of course.) So Tuesdays have become Tuna Tuesdays because that's when we send it out. I also like "Constant Tuna" as a code name since we use the Constant Contact program. So that's the tuna. 

As for Nano, I started out with a brilliant idea, which of course was not mine but Caroline's (the Young one), of writing "A New Englander's Guide to Seattle." I still like this idea. What I ended up with is in no shape to be shared now or maybe ever, but I think it was valuable experience for the process of it. That last sentence didn't really make that much sense, but I feel like you might know what I mean, so I'm not going to rewrite it. This is one thing I learned from NaNoWriMo. If you erase, you'll never reach the word goal. So you just have to leave it there and move it. It's kind of a good life lesson now that I think about it.

Maybe I need a theme. 

For the blog. 

Suggestions?

November Excuses

Apologies for not posting for over a month. In case anyone still checks this, I will offer an explanation for why there was not a single post in the month of November. Basically it was because I had too many outlets for my bad writing last month that there was nothing left over to post. First, I competed in National Novel Writing Month (NaNoWriMo) for the second year in a row. I successfully wrote 50,000 words in 30 days. It is not a novel; it's not even the nonfiction narrative about moving to Seattle I intended it to be. All it is really is a big ass document, full of whiny journaling for the most part. 

And as if that was not a large enough quantity of crap, I have also been producing low quality verbiage for not only the Windworks newsletter (the only reason I include the link is because I think you should check out page 3 of this issue--I made Brian dress up for a fashion shoot), but also for our new e-newsletter, which I fondly refer to as "the tuna." This is because my boss named it "Tuna Head." I am not making this up.  I walked into work one day the week before Thanksgiving to find that my boss, Greg, had stayed up all night creating an e-newsletter. For those of you who have seen our website, you will understand why this is scary. Anyway, he had written a short introduction to the e-newsletter, which informed the reader/customer that the e-newsletter was named the "Tuna Head (Tune Ahead) Newsletter." He then went on to claim that "tune ahead" was a nautical term for planning ahead and that "we" liked "tuna head" since it was "catchy" and "memorable." Needless to say, the name was vetoed by every other member of the staff since we all agreed that a.) there was no reason the e-newsletter needed a name and 2.) if it did have a name for our company newsletter, it shouldn't sound like we smoked a bowl and then had a brainstorming session. 

That's about it. I'll try to start blogging again. Thanks for reading. 

Dock Staff/Editor

I can't wait to update my resume again.

Dock Staff, Windworks Sailing Center
-Cleaned boats
-Performed light maintenance, including oil changes, electronics installation, and (fun) marine sanitation system repairs
-Edited monthly newsletter

Our current issue

Clearly not as fun as the now-defunct Front Dock Lines, but I do occasionally try to sneak the occasional bad pun or ironic pop culture reference.

If you check out the archives, you can see that the newsletter (or "News Letter" as it's called on the homepage) had nowhere to go but up. I'm still working out the kinks (new font-- Franklin Gothic Heavy-- for headlines this month), but in three issues I've accomplished a few things:

-Eliminated bubble letter captions on photos
-Purged newsletter of underlining
-Reduced number of typos per page from around 17 to less than 0.5
-Brought overall look of the newsletter into the 21st century

Things I was less than happy with in my first issue as "editor" (in quotes because my boss still managed to come back from vacation and in less than 12 hours micromanage the whole thing and turn almost everything that was in my voice into his voice, which sounds much more like a used-car salesman) included my boss turning the hilarious ad (that Kate wrote--thanks!) from a spoof of a personal ad into what sounds like more of a solicitation for prostitution.

Here is how the ad show have read:

PERSONALS
Classy S/V Seeks Owner for LTR
Svelte 42.5' Dufour looking for an adventurous partner who isn't afraid to get salty. Sophisticated craft enjoys long sails around the Sound, but is also comfortable with dinner cruises or hanging around the marina. Serious inquiries only.

Only Greg, who apparently thinks people need to have sales shoved down their throats, takes out the last line and replaces it with "Brings money to the table through charter program."

Anyway, if anyone actually reads the thing (and I won't feel bad if you don't because even my mom just skimmed it-- I sent her a copy of the September issue and she didn't even see that I had written "My Mom's Cure for Seasickness"), let me know your brilliant ideas for next issue.

I've Been Doin' Some Writin'

So I thought I'd share with you. Although you've probably heard most of this before.

Duck Captains of the Puget Sound: The Adventures of Captain Quack Sparrow, Part I

I used to be a duck tour guide. And by “duck tour” I don't mean escorting naturalists around a pond; I mean driving an amphibious WWII vehicle full of tourists through downtown Seattle while playing cheesy '70's music.

According to my first job performance review, the actual content of my tour was solid. Despite having moved to the city only a few months before, I had picked up the fun facts and historical anecdotes rather quickly. It helped that almost everything important that happened in Seattle history occurred in 1907.

But my personality score was much lower, reflecting a lack of sound effects and props, and I was told in no uncertain terms that I needed to obtain a minimum of three wacky hats before my next tour.

Since the majority of our customers responded favorably to captains wearing mullet wigs and making obvious jokes, you can imagine how much they enjoyed my grudgingly-worn child-size plastic viking helmet and my sarcastic sense of humor. Midwesterners and west coasters love sarcasm. In fact, sometimes I could make it all the way to the waterfront without a single person realizing that maybe that Starbucks we just passed wasn't the only one we'd see on the tour.

But I could hardly blame them; even after just a few months of being out here, my East Coast reflexes began to atrophy. First I lost my ability to cross a street without pedestrian walk signals and soon after I found myself almost unable to converse with my own people. On one tour, when I mentioned that the floating home used in the movie Sleepless in Seattle was purchased by a couple from New Jersey after the filming, I remembered that one of the families on the duck had said they were from New Jersey, so I asked if they knew the couple that bought the house. "Yeah, that's actually why we came out here-- to visit them," the mother said. It took me a whole 2 seconds, enough time to say, "no way, really?" to remember that sarcasm could be a two-way street. It had been so long.

But despite my refusal to adapt my delivery to the tastes of our average customer, I still received occasional positive feedback, even having my comedic talents compared to Ellen Degeneres. Once a woman getting off the tour looked at me and said, "You're funny . . . like Ellen Degeneres." Now I’m definitely not funny, but I am a lesbian, and I think that's what she meant.

But I amused myself and that was what counted. After all, I was the one who had to take my tour four or five times a day. At the end of each hour and a half, I’d pull into the parking lot, and say, airline-style, "On behalf of everyone here at Ride the Ducks, I’d like to thank you for riding with us today. We know you have your choice of amphibious tour providers here in Seattle and we'd like to thank you for choosing Ride the Ducks."

OK, Enough About the Bikes

But first, you must see the Speedster's recent fashion adventure. I think you will agree it is quite special.The photo doesn't do it justice. The Speedster was essentially wearing the dollar store. A pink hula skirt and plastic stegosaurus (that roared sporadically) on the handlebars, a reflective (bike safety!) "Es Nina!" banner, a yellow bumper sticker that says "Beer: Now Cheaper Than Gasoline. So don't drive, drink!", a plastic lei wrapped around the seatpost and a plastic bat dangling from the seat, various ribbons and pipe cleaners twirled around the spokes and bars. 

What was the occasion, you ask? Seeing as one's birthday and/or April Fools Day (which, depending on how cool you are, might actually be the same day) would be the only two holidays where you might suspect any sort of rogue decoration to take place, you can imagine my surprise (or look at my face in the picture below) when I saw this spectacle on September 19. 

Had Diana and Crystal simply walked up to the marina and surprised me at work on a Friday afternoon with a hot chai, it would have made my day, but not as good of a blog post. 

P.S. I found a crank and a right pedal, and my ghetto singlespeed commuter bike is working now, just in time for the rainy season, although it looks even more like a Frankenstein bike now with mismatched pedals and an inferior crankset.  

Almost Done

Because I know you all were on the edge of your seats wondering if I have successfully created a functional singlespeed yet.

So close.

But there's always something. (This picture was taken right before the inaugural ride when the right pedal came loose and stripped the threads out of the crank, which I now need to replace. Although the upside of the story is that in my ongoing quest to find this part, I actually found a helpful, friendly and non-condescending bike mechanic, right here in Seattle. I know, right?)

Map How Far I Walked Around Seattle Carrying a Bike Wheel

I feel like that little kid in Family Circus, but this is how I spent my Sunday.

Check out my map. It would make a lot more sense if I was successful at adding notes, but I was not. Highlights included taking my rear wheel to Recycled Cycles this morning hoping they'd be able to remove the cassette, but being told that it wasn't a cassette but a freewheel and so the final step of my singlespeed project was not happening, picking up my new belt (and some bright-ass new bike lights) at REI, chai at Inner Chapters, cribbage in the park with Diana, talking with Cara while chilling in the other park that is definitely not a reservoir (although there is a cool fountain that looks like a stone igloo with water running over it), dinner with Chloe at the Honey Hole on Pike St., and finally catching the #16 home, ten hours later, still carrying the bike wheel. 

Live from the Center of the Universe

The weather feels like the last time Pam and I were here together.  (Here being Canal Coffee, which is a coffee(!) shop on the canal(!) located in the Fremont neighborhood, also known as the Center of the Universe.) The sunshine, slight breeze, and temperature in the low sixties was quite pleasant for late November, but it leaves a little to be desired (namely summer) at the end of August.

This is Pam working. 
This is me not. 

At least it's not raining. 

Pets & Projects Updates

So I didn't adopt two cute codependent fetch-playing yellow labs. I'm just one of those people who takes pictures of other people's dogs. Only recently, though. It's like the ticking of my biological clock is leading me down an insane maternal progression, starting with plants, moving on to fish, thinking about dogs. And speaking of fish, I can't believe I have yet to introduce you all to Charley Gamma. It's like you get all excited about the first kid and then forget to take pictures when the second one comes along. Unless, of course, the next kid comes along eight minutes later, in which case the camera's probably still out.

Anyway, a few weeks ago I went out to buy more water conditioner and while I was at Petco, it seemed like the right time to bring home a new friend for Alpha Alfa. Charley's on the right. I also bought a "Caution Wet Floor" sign. Because I am a nerd.

So it's the rainy season again. It's not supposed to be but it is. In Seattle it is either raining and everyone's resigned to the fact that it's raining because it's supposed to be raining or it's not supposed to be raining (like in the "summer") but it's raining anyway and everyone's all like well, it usually doesn't rain in August, like it makes it better instead of worse. I would be much more okay with the weather here if people complained about it more. No one complains. I mean people live in New England their entire lives and they know that it's going to be icy and slushy and crappy all winter and into the spring and probably rain every weekend in the summer but they still complain when it happens, or complain that it might happen, or assume that the weather is going to ruin whatever outdoor activity they have planned. I haven't quite figured it out, but I've done a lot of thinking about weather and climate and culture. So you can look forward to hearing all of my thoughts on the subject soon when it gets dark at 3 pm.

On the upside, since it's been rainy the past two weekends, I've got a lot of work done on some projects I've put off all summer. I spent all day yesterday working on my project bike. My commuter bike, if you will, since, did I mention, it's been rainy and I don't really like commuting on the Speedster in the rain.

So I don't have a before picture, and it doesn't look that much different, but here it is after Phase I.

It's a singlespeed now, and it does actually work, which I am somewhat amazed by. There are still a couple things I need to do, though, namely get rid of the derailleur. You can't really see in the picture, but since I didn't have wire cutters or a wrench small enough to removed the final place that it's attached, it's just hanging off the top tube now. I also need to get a new chain, because last time I shortened a chain and reattached it without a connector, it definitely fell apart the next day and sent me flying, so I don't trust it. Most important, I've got to change the gear ratio because right now I can't even get up the smallest incline. And figure out the rear wheel situation, since it's pretty ghetto right now since I still have a 5 speed cassette on there. But once all that's done, I'll only be a freehub away from the darkside.

Hello . . .

I'm back. Thank you, Apple. The laptop is up and running, good as new. Let's just say I was extremely lucky and did not have to purchase a third laptop in a few month span. 

So, now that I have a computer again and apparently my month of having a busy social life is over, it's time to start blogging again. But first I need to go grocery shopping before I have to relinquish the car I've been borrowing the past ten days while Brian was on vacation. I've become ridiculously lazy and it's going to be painful giving it up. I think I always just assumed that I'd acquire a car at some point before I reached twenty six. I also probably assumed I'd have a real job by then, too. 

It's starting to get darker earlier. Granted, out here, that means 9 pm. Which, yes, I know I can't complain about.  

I've been making banana muffins every week. I might be ready for a break, but I've got three rotting bananas. It's a vicious cycle. I eat a muffin for breakfast instead of a banana and it's a constant supply of overly ripe bananas. 

I'm hungry. So I am going to go grocery shopping. 

This is the bloggiest blog post ever. 

Help a Sister Out

And by a sister I mean my sister. 

Clicking this link will help Pam help Colorado stay green. Or whatever color it naturally is. 

And now a message from the legislative program director at Environment Colorado:

Hey Guys!

I realize that it is 3:15 on a Friday afternoon, but if you all could please take 3 seconds to go to this link: http://www.denverpost.com/news/ci_9976259, and give Gov. Ritter a job approval rating (of “excellent”, ideally) we will hold off the forces of evil for one more day.

This is the latest, albeit silly, battleground of the oil + gas war that is pitting us environmentalists and our friends in the administration against Big Oil.

The industry is driving their people to this site to vote for a “poor” approval rating to further make the Governor feel badly beat up in the press because of his aggressive stance on drilling regulations and his desire to end a $300 million subsidy for the richest industry in the world right now. Bill needs your help!

Anyway, PLEASE VOTE> ritter is a good guy, but more importantly we want him to feel strong and not beaten up so he’ll continue to hold a tough line. (our fear is that if this is badly skewed then it will drive a media story)

http://www.denverpost.com/news/ci_9976259

THANKS!!!

Pam

P.S. You may recognize Governor Ritter from the photo of me and Governor Ritter. 

Where Does the Good Go?

July did not find me feeling very bloggy. Clearly. 

Blah. Apparently I'm still not feeling bloggy. I've kind of been sidetracked from all my projects since it finally became summer (about 3 weeks ago). Like all my plants (except the basil) have died. I still can't play the drums. I haven't picked up the Bible in months (still haven't made it out of Leviticus). I've barely read anything except for the magazines on my 6 flights since May. And bike #2 is still out of commission and no closer to being converted into a single speed. I still haven't replaced the chain & cassette on the Speedster even though I picked up the parts weeks ago. 

Just to put it all in perspective. 

The projects can wait for the rain, but I really need to camping soon. Not sure how I am going to swing that, but it needs to happen. I realize this post has nothing to do with the Tegan & Sara song in the title. 

HAPPY BIRTHDAY, SHAW!

Another Non-Win

Read all about it. 

The Non-(Non-Blog) Updated Again

Our first non-loss. Read the full story here.

Struggling

On days we wanted to last forever we woke up to watch the sun rise. Now every day I watch the sun set over the sound and disappear behind the Olympics. It's one of those things I wish I could capture, but if it loses something in the digital photo it sure as hell is going to clunk like a crayon drawing of an orange circle and purple triangle mountains with safety-scissor lines of snow if I try to get it down on paper. 

Take Your Slacker Twin Sister to Work Day

While this national holiday was celebrated on May 20th this year, I am only getting around to blogging about it now. Appropriate, perhaps, as I am the slacker twin pictured below. 

My sister is a lobbyist. She works at the state capitol. Did you know that the capital of Colorado is Denver? I saw a bill get signed into law. There were lots of people in suits, a Cub Scout troop, and me. I pretended to be a canvasser. 

I got to meet the governor!

OK, I Know This Is Cheating

http://theoscarwildes.blogspot.com/2008/06/well-get-em-next-time-part-iii.html

HAPPY BIRTHDAY, KENLI!

The "Other" Blog

(But I still love you more. She means nothing to me, I swear.)
http://theoscarwildes.blogspot.com/2008/06/another-not-shutout-recap-of-game-2.html

Article Number Two

New article. Still the worst newsletter (or, as it says on the website, News Letter) ever.

Softball

I have joined a softball team called the Oscar Wildes. You can read my recap of our first game on the Official Blog of the Official Softball Team of 826 Seattle.

And, in other news, please vote in the two polls below if you haven't already done so. Or if you only voted once because apparently these days you have to vote at least twice to count.

The Next Step

It seems like it's time for a new post, but I've been procrastinating because I'm a little unsure what to do with the poll results. I was hoping if I waited a few more days a clear winner would emerge. Not only do we have a three-way tie right now, but, to be honest, I'm not actually sure what to do with any of the sentences anyway.

But moving on. It's possible that everyone has already voted, since there are a total of 14 and two of those are mine (yeah, I cheated, too). So if Ashley also voted twice as her comment indicates, that means eleven people voted and that number appears to equal or exceed the total readership for the blog.

But, if anyone hasn't yet cast their vote, please help break the tie so I can start writing. And, since I don't know what to write, you'll have to vote on that, too.

Quizzes by Quibblo.com

Choose Your Own Adventure

Well, maybe not quite an adventure, but you get to choose. In order to make the blog more interactive, I've decided to start polling. 

Anyway, for our first poll, I would like you to vote for the sentence you would like to see expanded into an actual post. I've been going through the legal pads I attempted to write on while I was computerless, and I found these sentences. 

Quizzes by Quibblo.com

Please vote. It's easy. Thank you for your participation. 

I've Been Published in the Worst Newsletter Ever

And if I can just figure out how to copy and paste on this here Mac, I'll paste the link for you so you can see what I mean. 

Here it is.

I should have used a pseudonym.

I'm Baaack

My new MacBook arrived in the mail today. I can't believe I lived without a computer for so long. So I will definitely get back on track here with the blog postings, of course. 

Starting now. 

In Case You Were Wondering

My laptop has been declared unrevivable. I think I am going to give in and get a Mac this time around. (I think this might only be of interest to Laura, who doesn't read this. And anyway I feel like it was only number three on her list of things to convince me of, after moving to Boston and joining Americorps.)

I'm getting used to living without a laptop. It's actually kind of freeing. I'm obviously getting zero writing done, though.

So

My laptop was revived. And then it died again. It is currently in the shop. I am currently at work on the officeboat. Not much else to report, and even if there were, I don't have the means to report it. Unless I get into the habit of posting at lunch, but to tell you the truth, I don't think that's going to work out too well. How are y'all doing?

Accomplice

I haven't quite figured out my writing class yet. We have homework assignments but it doesn't seem like anyone does them, so at the beginning of class people just read what they've been working on. And it's usually really good. So it's the third week of class and I still am too freaked out to read anything I've written (especially when we do in-class writing. Like in ten minutes I'm going to be able to anything other than turn the prompt into a completely horrid stream of consciousness journal entry.) I promised myself last week that I was going to force myself to read the following-- my response to our homework prompt to write about being an unwilling accomplice. The thing I liked about every other writing class I've ever been in is that everyone had to read what they had written.

Disclaimer: There is a reason I didn't want to read this out loud. The reason is that since the class is so supportive, after anyone reads the instructor says, "Now tell her what you like about it" and I just didn't want to put my classmates in an awkward position, like when someone asks you, "Oh did you get a haircut?" And you're like, "Yeah." And then there's kind of a longish silence and the person goes, "Oh, it looks nice."

“Accomplice” is a Hardy Boys word, like “ransom” or “jalopy.” Acquiring the vocabulary of teenage detective stories at an early age, however, was not without missteps. For the longest time I wondered why the makers of Twinkies and other prepackaged baked goods had named their company after a person held to make sure that demands are met. A properly socialized 6 year old girl would have recognized the word “hostess” from her tea party storybooks, certainly not confused it with “hostage.” But there I was, barely in elementary school, scanning the mystery shelves in the junior high fiction section of the library. An older boy, sizing me up, decides I’m in the wrong place. “You can’t even read these books.” I could have proved him wrong just by picking up any of the Hardy Boys or Three Investigators or Encyclopedia Brown books and reading a page out loud. Twenty years later I’m still abetting, letting supermarket clerks, baristas, bosses, restroom patrons get away with misconceptions.

Ducks?

So they finally put up the captain bios on the Ride the Ducks website. As a fun treasure hunt, see if you can find the 2 actual typos, the inaccurate statement, and the part that I obviously did not write myself--all contained in Capt. Quack's 7-line bio! Free quacker for the winner!

I Actually Have a Good Excuse for Not Blogging

Unlike Beta Bravo, my laptop was not forced into shock by being plunged into overly warm water by a well-meaning but retarded owner. However, it has also given up on life, deciding about a week ago that booting up was just too much. While it makes some noises as though it is doing something and the buttons on the keyboard light up, the screen remains blank. So today on my day off I hiked over to the University District (actually I was lazy and took the bus) and dropped off the computer at the repair shop. So let's all collectively think good thoughts about a speedy recovery. Not only is it the most valuable thing I own, but as much as I am enjoying my monastic existence right now (it's amazing how much reading I can get done when I have absolutely no other entertainment options), I just started a writing class last week and am all excited about actually writing more and it's kind of sad how much of a struggle it is for me to write anything by hand.

Anyway, enough complaining. I feel like I should use up my hour of internet, but it only took me about 5 minutes to check all my email, Facebook, Myspace from the past couple days. It's not like I'm actually missing anything except the illusion of being in touch.

The (not so) Living Thing Update

!) Beta Bravo. RIP.

@) My laptop.

Living Things Update

!) The pea plants definitely need to be planted outside, although I do like the jungle effect of having lots of growing green things on my windowsills. I feel like I have been neglecting these little guys lately, though, and now the leaves are withering and the plants are sprawling out of control. (They are standing up nice and straight for the picture, though, because Diana had just told me that I should tie them to the stakes.)



@) The herbs appear to be doing well. They are even beginning to smell like their respective herb smells (chives, basil, parsley).

#) And now for something completely different . . . FISH! Yes, I now have actual pets, two betta fish (pictured left), thanks to Diana. If it is possible, I am even more excited about the fish than I am about gardening. Because I can watch them swim around. And I can talk to them and feel somewhat okay about it. And they have names. The red one on the left is Beta Bravo Fish. And the purpley one on the right (don't be confused by the orange fish picture on the bag of gravel behind the tank) is named Alpha Alfa Fish. I call them both by their middles names. Unless I'm really serious, like when I'm trying to coax Beta Bravo to not spit up his pellets, and then I use the first and middle name. You can just barely see the screen dividing the tank, which I like to call the beta blocker. This prevents them from fighting to the death. There is also a light on the top of the tank so I can illuminate the aquarium and lie in bed and stare at it.

$) So, yes, the aesthetic of my room has changed from the spartan clean and spacious (well, for a one-room studio) to the clutter of plants and animals and bikes and other assorted inanimate knickknacks. Generally it is a complete mess, as well, with clothes and bike parts and dishes stacked up on the floor and every available surface. I made a really good curry the other day. My grandfather always complained about cooking for one.

"It's not a state of mind. It's a city of peanuts."

This was me objecting to the Snickers wrapper defining "Peanutopolis" as "A state of mind making you feel very strong and powerful, almost mayor-like." And I stand by my position on that one. It is only reasonable that a word made up of "peanut" and "polis" (Greek for city) would mean "Peanut City." I would love to take on the Snickers ad men in a game of Balderdash.

Believe it or not, this was not the first quotable exclamation containing the suffix "-opolis" uttered during the less-than-two-hour car ride.

"What? Are you anticipating the expansion of your future metropolis?"

That was Becca objecting to rural towns having 115th Avenues.

The trip not only included quips, but also some nature.

And while we did not make it to the end of the trail, the trip was a success because Becca did not fall in a hole. I fell in a hole, but I did not dislocate any digits. And we both made it back.

Coming soon: Have you ever noticed that crazy cat ladies also have really cluttered houses? (You know they do.) I now understand why. (Have you noticed that I have a theory for everything?) All this and more in tomorrow's Living Things Update.

Kenya Dot

Nice work, Kenli.

April 2nd

Apparently (and somewhat ironically) I am not very good at April Fools jokes. But the night before last at around midnight, I was inspired by Google's hilarious spoof. (For those of you who missed the link in your Gmail inbox yesterday, they announced a new feature that allowed you to send emails from the past.) I thought it would be fun to have an April Fools blog post. Of course, it had to be something believable with a somewhat ridiculous aspect to it.

I think the problem was that it was too believable; it just didn't happen. The only impulsive thing I have done recently is get drunk and order a drum set online last week. And since it appears backordered indefinitely (they just changed the estimate for when it would be in stock from 3/31 to 4/30), it kind of takes the fun (and risk) out of the impulse buy.

The ridiculous part being, in my mind, that I chose to tattoo a bar code on my shoulder, unfortunately is also too believable. It probably was the first thing that popped into my mind because sadly I have always kind of liked the aesthetic of the bar code, despite hating all that it represents.

So Kate left me a message saying that she did not believe me for one second. Pam almost killed me via text message. And it looks like maybe I should get a tattoo before June so as to have something to show off. Perhaps I will get "I am not a blogger" tattooed on my arm.

Guess What

So every so often I'd think about getting a tattoo. And anyone I ever mentioned this to would ask me if I'd thought about what I'd want as a design. Of course I hadn't, which struck most people as a horrible idea. But I've always thought it would be a fun spur-of-the-moment kind of thing best left up to chance, fate and whim. So this afternoon after work (ok, after work followed by a pretty intense happy hour) I decided the day before I turned 26 was as good a time as any. Call it a stereotypical quarterlife crisis response. Anyway, you're probably semi-curious to know what I decided on when I got there. Ok, this is going to sound dumb, but don't worry, I actually really like it (and it's on my shoulder so it'll be covered up usually anyway). I wanted something abstract, so I picked a funky looking bar code. (For some reason, I've always thought they look kind of cool.) So I know it seems kind of random, but it looks a lot cooler than it sounds. Really. I'll post a picture as soon as the swelling goes down.

Still Growing

Ridiculousness. I feel like I should plant them outside so they can spread their roots and have some room to grow, but it's so chilly. I don't want my little pea plants to be chilly. I don't know.

Since I'm Not Writing Anything

I will provide you with a link to something to read.
This appears to be an acceptable blogging technique.

Chive Update

So here are the chives, basil, and parsley. You can just barely see them. The peas on the other hand . . . look at them go.

And Caroline's right, if I am this excited about plants, imagine if, like a pet or child, these things moved, and did things, and made cute faces. I'd have probably used up my 4 gigs of memory already.

Now some of you might be wondering what else is going on in my life right now since the last couple weeks have been devoted to SproutWatch. Actually, I'm sure you've noticed that the last couple weeks have been devoted to SproutWatch and have therefore accurately concluded that there's not a heck of a lot else going on in my life right now. (Although the Speedster did hit 2,000 miles on the odometer today at the beginning of my evening commute.) In order to prevent myself from wasting all of my abundant free time aimlessly surfing the web, I have been filling up my time off with a variety of extracurriculars recently. From various arts & crafts projects to volunteer shifts at the Greenwood Space Travel Supply Store to athletic pursuits (that is, if drunken basketball counts), I almost feel like I am back in college. Minus that whole intellectually stimulating part.

I Could Write About Something Else

But really, these little plants might be the most exciting thing ever. To me, at least. I know that you probably don't share the excitement, and I understand that. In fact, if I were you, I would think I was crazy. Also a distinct possibility. But the plants don't judge.

Sprouty Sprout Sprouts: Part Two

So even though I put my new digital camera (have it mentioned it? :-P) on "color accent" mode, meaning everything is black & white except the green of the planter and the just barely emerging chive and basil sprouts, you can't see them at all (being mini and barely emerging and all), so you'll just have to take my word for it. The other photos are of some of the new little sugar pea seeds I've been cultivating. They're growing up so fast!

Sprouts!

One little seedling, Day 6.

The pictures didn't come out very well, but the pea seeds have sprouted little green shoots. Since they've outgrown their little mini-seed planters, I replanted them into larger pots. This makes for thrilling blog posts, I know, but I am really excited about the whole gardening thing. I'm surprised they don't have a reality show about gardening yet. America's Next Top Gardener. Gardening with the Stars. Project Garden. So You Think You Can Garden? Iron Gardener.

By Golly

I must say it is quite pleasant arriving home from work whilst it is still light out.

Shawless in Seattle

Shaw was nice enough to fly across the country for a whirlwind but comprehensive weekend tour of Seattle. Here are some pictures from Day 2. In chronological order (and now with captions!):

The Troll, of course. Looks like he re-applied his makeup since last week. That is a real VW bug in his left hand. And a real Shaw next to the car. (And yes, you're right--these pictures should not be titled "Shawless in Seattle" because not only is that an awful pun, but these photos are actually from when Seattle was Shawful for a few days.)


Gas Works Park. My favorite toxic-industrial-site-turned-park.

Oh duck boats. How I miss you. Now I have no vehicle (literally) for foisting sarcasm on unsuspecting Midwesterners.

Houseboats and housebarges. One day I will live on one of these puppies.

A crazy half-view of Mt. Rainer from the UW, which unfortunately didn't come out in the picture. You could only see the bottom half beneath a perfectly horizontal cloud--it looked like someone had torn a photo of it in half and stuck it on the horizon.

Coffee-shopping it before a salmon dinner. Not drinking coffee or anything. Don't want to overdo the Seattle-ness. Although you're not going to chai this spicy at Dunkin Donuts, that's for sure.

Like what you see? Book your tour today!

Adventues in Gardening w/ Cecil & Diana: Part I

Stay tuned. These things might sprout.

The Return

Not that I went anywhere. But Laura left yesterday so I have no excuse to not not-blog anymore. And I also actually have things to write now about having packed what might normally be two months worth of social activity for me into just 9 days. Like last Saturday we went out for dinner and drinks (at Bleu), saw a show (the Mountain Goats), and then went dancing (at R Place, of course). And Sunday we hit up not one but two markets (Fremont Sunday market and the famous Pike Place market, the oldest continuously running farmer's market in the nation started in 1907 when farmers decided they wanted to sell their produce directly to the consumers . . . ) and saw the entirety of downtown Seattle (Space Needle, sculpture park, waterfront, and the scene that is Pioneer Square at dusk). And that was just the first weekend. Tuesday night Shakira dance parties were yet to come. But I'm always a little overwhelmed by picking highlights, so I'm just going to leave you with a couple pictures and maybe attempt a post or two over the next couple days. Because then Shaw is coming for the weekend! So stay tuned for pictures from Spring Break Seattle: Superstars gone wild.




Okay, so they're random and captionless, but they are in chronological order.

Officeboat Update

For those of you wondering how the officeboat project is going, we have finally moved in. So here are pictures of my new office space.

Really?

I just discovered that I have toothpaste in my hair. This is disturbing to me on several levels.

I just used my bike lock cable to lasso a box of oatmeal Teddy Grahams and drag it across the floor so I could pick it up without getting up. I didn't know that they made oatmeal Teddy Grahams. I'm not sure how I feel about them.

While I was flinging the cable at the Teddy Grahams, I started laughing out loud. Living alone is funny. In Olympia, I had hardwood floors, which made for better solo dance parties.

This afternoon a customer asked Dave, my boss, who I was. "Is that your kid?" While it is scary that Dave could actually be my father (he's 2o years older than me), he is a very young-looking 45, which means that I apparently look twelve.

in case you were wondering

what i should be doing:













cleaning this mess.


what i am doing:


























playing with my new canon PowerShot SD 1000.




anyway, in case you were wondering, i got my phone back. one of the guys was diving and picked it up for me. unfortunately, after spending the better part of a week submerged in salt water, i'm not holding out much hope for its revival. however, it doesn't matter, because thanks to becca, the curator of dr. pj's cell phone museum featuring an eclectic assortment of verizon phones of past, i have a brilliant motorola flip phone complete with a pink bluetooth called toothy. (thanks again!)

i did also want to say thanks to the outpouring of support of potential cell phone replacements (emily & caroline). and also alisa's helpful idea. although i am still a little afraid of eBay. oh, and as you probably guessed, i am also online now. my internal wireless adapter is still playing hide-and-seek, but i bought a USB one. so you can now reach me via several methods of long distance communication. don't everyone call at once.

Communication Situation Update

Will be coming tomorrow. Actually, I probably won't get around to posting until Friday since tomorrow is Valentine's Day and of course I have plans for the night. Yes, I'm getting together with a couple of my single friends. We're going to sit on the couch in our pajamas eating ice cream, drinking wine, and watching romantic comedies (suitably cheesy: Sleepless in Seattle and actually good: Love Actually). This is the plan Chris came up with for me, him, Greg, and Burke and I think nerdy 30-year-old straight guys embracing the stereotypically overdone single girls response to Valentine's Day is brilliant.

Sinking

I've had better days. Days when I didn't drop my fairly nice, fairly new cell phone on to the dock and watch it bounce and slowly sink past my outstretched fingers. Anyone have an old Verizon phone they're not using that they'd like to donate to the cause? And by cause I mean me not having to pay "retail" (read: ripoff) price for a new phone.

Blue Means Go

My computer has decided to play a fun game, kind of like hide-and-seek only it pretends that it doesn't have an internal wireless adapter. Regardless of whether the switch is on or off, the light remains orange. Orange=bad=no internet for you. I turn the computer on and off. Still orange. And it doesn't show up at all in the device manager. I restart it, put it in standby, turn it back on. Orange. And then sometimes, randomly, blue. Like, as you might guess, right now. So I have to hurry up and post before it changes its mind.

I've looked into this and the good news is that I'm not crazy-- this same exact thing has happened to other Compaq users. The bad news is that, as far as I can gather from the threads, there is no solution to this problem except engaging in a lengthy struggle with customer service "case managers" who never return phone calls and finally sending the laptop to headquarters where they may or may not replace the card, which may or may not work.

I'll keep you updated. In this case, no news is bad news.

Officeboat

So it has been kind of annoying to have to get up early and go down to the boat show and clean (and/or shovel) the same three boats every day for the past week, but not only do I feel like a better person simply for getting up earlier (like it's some sort of accomplishment), I find that the somewhat annoying aspects of my job are balanced out by some amazing perks, like what qualified as a workday for me today.

As you read through the rundown, keep in mind that I was on the clock for all of this and I think that you'll agree.

We went to pick up the houseboat that we're going to use as an office. The crew consisted of the dock staff (me, Dave, Brian, and Scott) and a couple of Dave's liveaboard friends from the marina. (My boss lives on his sailboat a couple of docks down from Windworks.) Since the officeboat was stuck in a slip behind another houseboat, this process took quite some time. We had to float the other houseboat across and raft it to a decrepit tarp-covered wooden tugboat while we moved our houseboat out, tied it to yet another houseboat on the other dock, move neighbor houseboat back, and then finally tie up the chase boat to hip tow it to the yard for haul-out. This involved a lot of running long lines back and forth in the dinghy and tying and untying.

Incidentally, this neighboring houseboat we had to move might have been the cutest thing ever. And I want to live there. While I was serving as a human fender, I spent the entire time gazing into the little windows and imagining myself chilling on the Adirondack chairs on the roof watching the sun set over the Olympics.



Anyway, we finally get the officeboat to the yard without hitting anything despite the 25 knot winds, and as soon as we get onshore we are greeted by Pete, another friendly liveaboard, who has brought us a case of Sierra Nevada. (That's not Pete in the picture--it's one of the boatyard workers, but Pete actually looks like that from the back, too.)


We head to the Nickerson Street Saloon where I eat a carne asada sandwich and chicken curry soup on the company tab (and a shot involving Bailey's that some random (as in no one knew him) drunk fisherman at the bar bought for our entire party of ten). By this time, it's 4 pm, so by the time I get back to work there's only 1.5 hours left, just enough time to finish up the boat I was cleaning.

You can't tell from this picture, but the inside of the officeboat is actually really cute with an amazing hardwood floor.


recap:
-dream house
-boat ride
-beer
-free lunch