Thursday, May 05, 2011
Very Important Question
If you are mad at someone, not because they deliberately did something but just because of circumstances, is it wrong to then be less mad because you realize that your outfits are far better than hers? Shoes included. Hypothetically of course...
Friday, January 14, 2011
Mexican Oregano Potatoes
Went to a fabulous spin class followed by a very relaxing yoga class this Monday. Gosh, I just loved it. Then did nothing for the rest of the week. Well, that's out of the way.
Tonight we will be having roasted potatoes with Mexican oregano for dinner. They are supposed to have basil, but the containers look quite alike. Which reminds me of a time in my childhood...
My mother used to feed us goulash for dinner. A lot. Not authentic goulash or anything fancy, just where you make red sauce and instead of putting it over spaghetti, you put elbow noddles in it. I was never very fond of it. Not sure why - I loved spaghetti, but somehow the noodles already in it just didn't work for my picky kid self. Mom says I was extremely particular about textures, so maybe the noodles got mushy or something.
One night she was making it. I was hanging around at her side and watching, most likely mentioning that I didn't care for it as a dinner choice. She was probably saying, "Well, you can eat it anyway." She reached in the cupboard for the large plastic thing of oregano with the shaker and shook some in. Except it happened that the cinnamon was also in the same sort of large plastic thing and happened to have no shaker. Yep, pile of cinnamon right on top of the goulash. My mom looked at me. I looked at her. I'm sure we had horrified expressions. She began to remove the top of the cinnamon pile, but of course some had already incorporated itself into the tomato sauce. I opened my mouth to protest and, before any words could escape, mom fiercely whispered, "Don't tell your sisters and you can have grilled cheese."
At the dinner table, my sisters were all, "This tastes funny," and my mom was all, "No it doesn't. It's the same as always." Then they were all, "How come Jenny doesn't have to eat it?" and my mom was all, "You know she doesn't like goulash..."
Tonight we will be having roasted potatoes with Mexican oregano for dinner. They are supposed to have basil, but the containers look quite alike. Which reminds me of a time in my childhood...
My mother used to feed us goulash for dinner. A lot. Not authentic goulash or anything fancy, just where you make red sauce and instead of putting it over spaghetti, you put elbow noddles in it. I was never very fond of it. Not sure why - I loved spaghetti, but somehow the noodles already in it just didn't work for my picky kid self. Mom says I was extremely particular about textures, so maybe the noodles got mushy or something.
One night she was making it. I was hanging around at her side and watching, most likely mentioning that I didn't care for it as a dinner choice. She was probably saying, "Well, you can eat it anyway." She reached in the cupboard for the large plastic thing of oregano with the shaker and shook some in. Except it happened that the cinnamon was also in the same sort of large plastic thing and happened to have no shaker. Yep, pile of cinnamon right on top of the goulash. My mom looked at me. I looked at her. I'm sure we had horrified expressions. She began to remove the top of the cinnamon pile, but of course some had already incorporated itself into the tomato sauce. I opened my mouth to protest and, before any words could escape, mom fiercely whispered, "Don't tell your sisters and you can have grilled cheese."
At the dinner table, my sisters were all, "This tastes funny," and my mom was all, "No it doesn't. It's the same as always." Then they were all, "How come Jenny doesn't have to eat it?" and my mom was all, "You know she doesn't like goulash..."
Saturday, January 08, 2011
Fitness Report
Not a lot of time to write lately, but here's a quick story to let you know that I HAVE been working out.
My fabulous friend gave P and I free 30-day passes to her gym. We have been using them to the max - went nearly every day over the week break. Feels SO GOOD to be doing gym stuff again. Any stuff again! Like yoga. Especially Yin Yoga taught by this teddy bear of a guy named Todd (I think).
Yin Yoga involves holding poses longer to really get the stretch. You mostly concentrate on the back, hips and groin. It can be brutal to hold a stretch for 5 minutes, but it is also so good.
Picture this: We are lying flat on our backs. We put one leg up in the air. We catch hold of our foot (or use the yoga strap if we cannot reach it - only crazy people can actually reach it so forget that catch hold part and just imagine the strap part). Then the foot goes way out to the side to stretch the inner thigh. This actually feels really good and we do not hate this like we hate the frog thingy that we do at the end that pretty much sucks.
So this particular night, it is pretty crowded. I realize my foot is going to go really close to P's head when I bring it over so I whisper, "Hope my foot doesn't smell." As a joke. Really. It was not smelly. But suddenly this stench fills my nostrils. It is awesomely bad, thick and nasty and just hovering. I wrinkle my nose and try to avoid it, but it is all around me. I glance at P to see if she can smell it too and she whispers, "It that your FOOT?"
Hello!?! She actually thought the worst fart in the world was my FOOT! I quickly whispered back, "No way," and we cracked up. Silently. Which pretty much means we lay there and shook and tried not to look like we were laughing. We determined that we should blame the guy behind her.
It did finally clear and I could breathe again. Fortunately, thankfully, luckily, whoever did that learned a lesson and did not try that again in class. I know it is supposedly a natural thing and yoga can make it happen, but there was nothing natural about this particular cloud.
I just feel sorry for whoever they were going home to that night.
My fabulous friend gave P and I free 30-day passes to her gym. We have been using them to the max - went nearly every day over the week break. Feels SO GOOD to be doing gym stuff again. Any stuff again! Like yoga. Especially Yin Yoga taught by this teddy bear of a guy named Todd (I think).
Yin Yoga involves holding poses longer to really get the stretch. You mostly concentrate on the back, hips and groin. It can be brutal to hold a stretch for 5 minutes, but it is also so good.
Picture this: We are lying flat on our backs. We put one leg up in the air. We catch hold of our foot (or use the yoga strap if we cannot reach it - only crazy people can actually reach it so forget that catch hold part and just imagine the strap part). Then the foot goes way out to the side to stretch the inner thigh. This actually feels really good and we do not hate this like we hate the frog thingy that we do at the end that pretty much sucks.
So this particular night, it is pretty crowded. I realize my foot is going to go really close to P's head when I bring it over so I whisper, "Hope my foot doesn't smell." As a joke. Really. It was not smelly. But suddenly this stench fills my nostrils. It is awesomely bad, thick and nasty and just hovering. I wrinkle my nose and try to avoid it, but it is all around me. I glance at P to see if she can smell it too and she whispers, "It that your FOOT?"
Hello!?! She actually thought the worst fart in the world was my FOOT! I quickly whispered back, "No way," and we cracked up. Silently. Which pretty much means we lay there and shook and tried not to look like we were laughing. We determined that we should blame the guy behind her.
It did finally clear and I could breathe again. Fortunately, thankfully, luckily, whoever did that learned a lesson and did not try that again in class. I know it is supposedly a natural thing and yoga can make it happen, but there was nothing natural about this particular cloud.
I just feel sorry for whoever they were going home to that night.
Wednesday, December 22, 2010
Day 4+: Morning Person Plan
I bet you are wondering what happened to my perky morning self. I am apparently very good at getting out of bed at 7 and making it to work on time. Which is better than getting out of bed at 7:15 and being late. Baby steps...
So for now I will take this blog back to its roots and discuss fitness. For the past year there has pretty much been none, zilch, zero, nada. I believe I have mentioned this before, but going to school plus working kind of cuts into other plans. I know, amazing people can do it all. But they probably don't love to cook dinner from scratch or have clean houses. Priorities. (This is not to imply that I have a clean house by any means. But I did eat lots of fabulous dinners.)
So now that I am taking back my evenings, I was ready to jump right into my workouts schedule. Or rather, sort of sidle up to it, glancing furtively to avoid eye contact. Here is how it went.
Sunday, I went to the gym and rode the stationary bike a bit, plus did some upper body and core. Monday, I went to the gym and rode the stationary bike some more. You will note that I am sort of just playing around on the bike. Which is nice. I am catching up on my reading. Tuesday, I had to do all my Christmas shopping so you know how that goes. Thus we get to today.
Today, I left work and, right before I hit the on ramp, I heard that the freeway was particularly backed up. I cut out of the developing line and realized that my new route was taking me right by the gym. I was not originally planning to go to the gym, but I figured that it must be a sign. After all, my gym bag was in the car, all ready with the (oops) clothes that I had worn to the gym the previous two times. Whatever. I went on in and did my 20 minutes on the bike, enjoying my book tremendously and particularly appreciating that my iPod, which is in the fritz, decided to work.
Maybe it was the iPod or maybe I am just crazy, but when I hopped off the bike, I somehow ended up on the treadmill. And started running. This treadmill is planted right in front of the mirror. (Why do they do this?) Today I enjoyed it in particular because:
1. I didn't remember to grab a hair band so mine was all hanging and immediately got insanely frizzy and sweaty.
2. I am so pale that I turn bright red when I run. BRIGHT SPLOTCHY RED.
3. I was wearing a sports bra that is more suited to biking and not that supportive. I do not enjoy watching my boobs flop all over while running.
4. I noticed for the first time that my cheeks actually jiggle when I run. The ones on my face. My bright red, sweaty ones. Though I assume my other cheeks were also doing their fair share of jiggling - luckily the treadmill controls blocked my view of THAT!
5. And to top it all off, my gym clothes kind of smelled. The mirror didn't tell me this, but I knew you would want to know because it really enhanced my run.
At one point, I could no longer stand the lank mass of hair on my neck and twisted it up into a knot. It stuck there with no outside assistance. Having my arms raised like that pointed out that maybe it was not just my clothing that were scented.
But, against all odds and to my complete and utter shock, I thoroughly enjoyed my 1.5 miles on the treadmill. This was not all spent running. Oh no, the running bursts were limited to two minutes with "stop the barfy feeling" walking breaks in between. But the fact that there was any running was simply awesome. When I was done, I'm pretty sure my endorphins were in high gear, having been in retirement for so long. I felt fabulous! I took my sweaty self over to the mat and even did my stretching (Coach Steve would be so proud). Then grabbed my stuff and strutted out to the car.
So there you have it. Gross but happy. Time to make dinner.
So for now I will take this blog back to its roots and discuss fitness. For the past year there has pretty much been none, zilch, zero, nada. I believe I have mentioned this before, but going to school plus working kind of cuts into other plans. I know, amazing people can do it all. But they probably don't love to cook dinner from scratch or have clean houses. Priorities. (This is not to imply that I have a clean house by any means. But I did eat lots of fabulous dinners.)
So now that I am taking back my evenings, I was ready to jump right into my workouts schedule. Or rather, sort of sidle up to it, glancing furtively to avoid eye contact. Here is how it went.
Sunday, I went to the gym and rode the stationary bike a bit, plus did some upper body and core. Monday, I went to the gym and rode the stationary bike some more. You will note that I am sort of just playing around on the bike. Which is nice. I am catching up on my reading. Tuesday, I had to do all my Christmas shopping so you know how that goes. Thus we get to today.
Today, I left work and, right before I hit the on ramp, I heard that the freeway was particularly backed up. I cut out of the developing line and realized that my new route was taking me right by the gym. I was not originally planning to go to the gym, but I figured that it must be a sign. After all, my gym bag was in the car, all ready with the (oops) clothes that I had worn to the gym the previous two times. Whatever. I went on in and did my 20 minutes on the bike, enjoying my book tremendously and particularly appreciating that my iPod, which is in the fritz, decided to work.
Maybe it was the iPod or maybe I am just crazy, but when I hopped off the bike, I somehow ended up on the treadmill. And started running. This treadmill is planted right in front of the mirror. (Why do they do this?) Today I enjoyed it in particular because:
1. I didn't remember to grab a hair band so mine was all hanging and immediately got insanely frizzy and sweaty.
2. I am so pale that I turn bright red when I run. BRIGHT SPLOTCHY RED.
3. I was wearing a sports bra that is more suited to biking and not that supportive. I do not enjoy watching my boobs flop all over while running.
4. I noticed for the first time that my cheeks actually jiggle when I run. The ones on my face. My bright red, sweaty ones. Though I assume my other cheeks were also doing their fair share of jiggling - luckily the treadmill controls blocked my view of THAT!
5. And to top it all off, my gym clothes kind of smelled. The mirror didn't tell me this, but I knew you would want to know because it really enhanced my run.
At one point, I could no longer stand the lank mass of hair on my neck and twisted it up into a knot. It stuck there with no outside assistance. Having my arms raised like that pointed out that maybe it was not just my clothing that were scented.
But, against all odds and to my complete and utter shock, I thoroughly enjoyed my 1.5 miles on the treadmill. This was not all spent running. Oh no, the running bursts were limited to two minutes with "stop the barfy feeling" walking breaks in between. But the fact that there was any running was simply awesome. When I was done, I'm pretty sure my endorphins were in high gear, having been in retirement for so long. I felt fabulous! I took my sweaty self over to the mat and even did my stretching (Coach Steve would be so proud). Then grabbed my stuff and strutted out to the car.
So there you have it. Gross but happy. Time to make dinner.
Thursday, December 16, 2010
Day 3: Morning Person Plan
Slight improvement today. Got up at regular time, got ready quickly and made it to work by 8:35 even with traffic still heavy. So basically am at the exact place as before the plan began. Except really tired. As in so tired that in the shower I couldn't remember if I had done the conditioner yet and had to feel my hair to try to determine if it was softened or not. Couldn't tell so just did more conditioner. Bonus - hair was not static-y all day.
But the real indication that you were not full awake in the morning is when you realize halfway through the day that your undies are on inside out. Just sayin'.
But the real indication that you were not full awake in the morning is when you realize halfway through the day that your undies are on inside out. Just sayin'.
Wednesday, December 15, 2010
Day 2: Morning Person Plan
Forgetting to set my alarm is NOT part of the plan.
I refuse to talk about it!
I refuse to talk about it!
Tuesday, December 14, 2010
Day 1: Morning Person Plan
I am working on a new scheme. I need to become more of a morning person. See, there has been a change in my schedule. I am back to working full time at my fabulous job and next semester I will only be in class one evening a week. No more three day a week class until 10 and not being able to fall asleep until after midnight. Not when I need to be fresh and alert first thing.
Usually I sort of drag out of bed at maybe 7:15. Maybe. And I need to be at work by 8:30 - half an hour away. Just not the best plan. Also, there have been alleged rumors that I am not exactly the nicest person until maybe 10 am.
So, I will be forcing myself into the role of perky morning person. Starting today I will be waking up extra early so that I will get tired in the early evening and thus reset my internal clock. Here is how day 1 has gone.
4:30 am - MV's alarm goes off. He snoozes. Me too.
4:45 am - Ari sits on my hair. Just a few pieces. Have you ever had a cat sit on just a few pieces of your hair. Well, it hurts. Get the cat to move. He thinks this is some version of petting and purrs.
5 am - MV gets up. He is perky.
5:20 am - I get up. I am not perky. I give Tully a little pet. He doesn't want me to stop so he reaches out to catch my hand. With his claw. Now my hair and my finger hurt.
5:30 am - Not sure what people actually do at this time of the day. Maybe a bit of computer work.
5:35 am - Check Facebook. It is populated solely by teachers. Perky teachers.
6 am - Remember that my clothes are in the washer. Transfer to the dryer. Sit on the couch and stare into space, anticipating how lovely it will be to put on dryer-fresh warm clothes.
7 am - Get in shower.
7:45 am - Warm up car. Should be leaving for work due to nasty icy roads, but car looks sort of like a cupcake still and needs to thaw.
7:50 am - Cut apple wedges and piece of cheese for breakfast. Microwave Udi's GF Chocolate Muffin. Wrap in paper towel and put in coat pocket. This might sound like a bad idea, it even did to me at the time but I still did it. Actually, it was brilliant! So WARM AND TOASTY in my pocket and stayed warm until I wanted to eat it later in the car. Might not want to try with a crumbly muffin.
8 am - Leave for work. Poor car still is not warm. I am, due in part to muffin warmer.
8:20 am - Begin over 20 minute drive of the half mile long parking lot between Campbell Hilton exit and ramp to I-75.
8:25 am - Begin nodding off. Seriously overcome by tiredness. Prop open eyelids but wonder if I could possibly catch a little nap before the traffic moves.
8:45ish am - Yeah, totally late for work, but actually beat many people. Roads were crap.
9 am - I think I will go for the regular tea today...decaf seems like a bad idea.
Thus commences my second day as an Events and Promotions Coordinator and my first day as a Perky Morning Person. Actually, was so busy I forgot to be sleepy. Or maybe it was the tea.
10:30 pm - Gosh am I awake! I am so completely perky. It is like I have a second wind. Maybe I will do some dishes. Or the laundry. Or run a marathon.
11:15 pm - Or just go to bed. Good night all!
Usually I sort of drag out of bed at maybe 7:15. Maybe. And I need to be at work by 8:30 - half an hour away. Just not the best plan. Also, there have been alleged rumors that I am not exactly the nicest person until maybe 10 am.
So, I will be forcing myself into the role of perky morning person. Starting today I will be waking up extra early so that I will get tired in the early evening and thus reset my internal clock. Here is how day 1 has gone.
4:30 am - MV's alarm goes off. He snoozes. Me too.
4:45 am - Ari sits on my hair. Just a few pieces. Have you ever had a cat sit on just a few pieces of your hair. Well, it hurts. Get the cat to move. He thinks this is some version of petting and purrs.
5 am - MV gets up. He is perky.
5:20 am - I get up. I am not perky. I give Tully a little pet. He doesn't want me to stop so he reaches out to catch my hand. With his claw. Now my hair and my finger hurt.
5:30 am - Not sure what people actually do at this time of the day. Maybe a bit of computer work.
5:35 am - Check Facebook. It is populated solely by teachers. Perky teachers.
6 am - Remember that my clothes are in the washer. Transfer to the dryer. Sit on the couch and stare into space, anticipating how lovely it will be to put on dryer-fresh warm clothes.
7 am - Get in shower.
7:45 am - Warm up car. Should be leaving for work due to nasty icy roads, but car looks sort of like a cupcake still and needs to thaw.
7:50 am - Cut apple wedges and piece of cheese for breakfast. Microwave Udi's GF Chocolate Muffin. Wrap in paper towel and put in coat pocket. This might sound like a bad idea, it even did to me at the time but I still did it. Actually, it was brilliant! So WARM AND TOASTY in my pocket and stayed warm until I wanted to eat it later in the car. Might not want to try with a crumbly muffin.
8 am - Leave for work. Poor car still is not warm. I am, due in part to muffin warmer.
8:20 am - Begin over 20 minute drive of the half mile long parking lot between Campbell Hilton exit and ramp to I-75.
8:25 am - Begin nodding off. Seriously overcome by tiredness. Prop open eyelids but wonder if I could possibly catch a little nap before the traffic moves.
8:45ish am - Yeah, totally late for work, but actually beat many people. Roads were crap.
9 am - I think I will go for the regular tea today...decaf seems like a bad idea.
Thus commences my second day as an Events and Promotions Coordinator and my first day as a Perky Morning Person. Actually, was so busy I forgot to be sleepy. Or maybe it was the tea.
10:30 pm - Gosh am I awake! I am so completely perky. It is like I have a second wind. Maybe I will do some dishes. Or the laundry. Or run a marathon.
11:15 pm - Or just go to bed. Good night all!
Sunday, November 28, 2010
Scared of the Aisles
I had to go to the regular grocery store today. This means any grocery store that is not Westborn Market, Trader Joe's or Whole Foods. See, we were nearly out of TP and that requires a trip to the regular store. Of which, I am rather afraid.
Usually I just run in and grab the TP and get out fast (often with ice cream, strange how that happens). Usually, I make it out before the panic sets in. This time, I decided to just grab a few other things since I didn't really need to make a trip all the way out to Westborn due to the still stuffed Thanksgiving fridge.
Inside the regular store, it is just so big and there is so much food that no one really needs to be eating, ever. Scary things. In really bright packages that have lies printed on them. There is a whole frozen case devoted to weird things to microwave for breakfast. And none of them look as tasty as what I usually eat - an apple and a piece of cheese. Also Gorilla Munch, which does come in a rather brightly colored package, but I immediately dump it into a nice glass jar so all is well there.
So I end up walking around this place with my mouth hanging open in wonder and terror. I am sure the employees must think I am nuts.
Here is what I managed to buy:
12 pears in a multi-colored selection (separated by variety so there was no fight with the cashier this time)
A bag of oranges for MV ( which I consider too difficult to eat due to the white stuff but he doesn't seem bothered by it)
Lunch meat for MV (did you know there is something called olive loaf? Seriously, there is. But you can be sure I have no idea what it tastes like)
Laura's ground beef (for the shepherds pie to use up the left over Thanksgiving mashed potatoes)
Beef broth (see beef above)
Hummus (MI made from Garden Fresh - yum!)
Quilted Northern TP (but not the mega rolls which are just weird)
You will note that there is no ice cream included in this list. Sadly, it was not on sale which I had to take as a sign.
So, am I weird? Is anyone else scared of the regular grocery store? I have this feeling it is just me...
Usually I just run in and grab the TP and get out fast (often with ice cream, strange how that happens). Usually, I make it out before the panic sets in. This time, I decided to just grab a few other things since I didn't really need to make a trip all the way out to Westborn due to the still stuffed Thanksgiving fridge.
Inside the regular store, it is just so big and there is so much food that no one really needs to be eating, ever. Scary things. In really bright packages that have lies printed on them. There is a whole frozen case devoted to weird things to microwave for breakfast. And none of them look as tasty as what I usually eat - an apple and a piece of cheese. Also Gorilla Munch, which does come in a rather brightly colored package, but I immediately dump it into a nice glass jar so all is well there.
So I end up walking around this place with my mouth hanging open in wonder and terror. I am sure the employees must think I am nuts.
Here is what I managed to buy:
12 pears in a multi-colored selection (separated by variety so there was no fight with the cashier this time)
A bag of oranges for MV ( which I consider too difficult to eat due to the white stuff but he doesn't seem bothered by it)
Lunch meat for MV (did you know there is something called olive loaf? Seriously, there is. But you can be sure I have no idea what it tastes like)
Laura's ground beef (for the shepherds pie to use up the left over Thanksgiving mashed potatoes)
Beef broth (see beef above)
Hummus (MI made from Garden Fresh - yum!)
Quilted Northern TP (but not the mega rolls which are just weird)
You will note that there is no ice cream included in this list. Sadly, it was not on sale which I had to take as a sign.
So, am I weird? Is anyone else scared of the regular grocery store? I have this feeling it is just me...
Thursday, November 18, 2010
Shout Out to the Tofurky Women in Trader Joe's
Awesomeness is sometimes quite obvious. There are people who do something and the world is changed for the better because of their actions. As a result, they may become famous, get on TV or receive a big award and everyone talks about it. Sometimes even after their passing, on into time for new generations to ponder and emulate. What we choose to honor as these acts of greatness defines us as a society.
Then there is a much smaller version of awesomeness. Everyday in nature and easy to overlook. No one is going to talk about these acts on into time or usually even at all. It is the greatness of the small acts we do with each and every choice we make. This is what defines us as a community and as individuals.
From time to time, I like to celebrate small acts of awesomeness that have stuck with me. Shall we share one together?
I overheard the following conversation in Trader Joe's this weekend as I was pondering the cheese selection. It was between two regular, average, nothing-jumping-out-at-me-to-remember middle aged women standing in front of the Tofurky display.
Woman 1: So that's it?
Woman 2: Yep, it is. It even comes with it's own gravy.
W 1: And that is what she eats?
W 2: That's what she said.
W 1: Well, that's what you need then.
And the box went into the cart.
When you are saying this conversation in your head, make sure to say it like I heard it. With a bit of doubt maybe, but pretty much just checking the situation out. I am pretty sure neither of them had ever heard of Tofurky before.
Ok, you are thinking, this little story is getting a bit boring. But that's kind of the point. Nothing big was happening, just two women shopping. But the simple action of buying something that they had never heard of, and probably found a bit weird, for one of them to prepare for someone she cared about struck me as being one of the most important things I might hear all day. I was hearing pure tolerance and love for someone who was different from them.
Go back to the conversation and say it in your head with a negative attitude in your voice. That is what she eats? like you think she is weird and bothersome and just trying to cause trouble. All too often, it goes like that.
So, big shout out to that Tofurky buying woman and her supportive friend. I think it is super awesome that you cared enough about this person coming to your Thanksgiving feast to take into consideration her preferences.
I totally wanted to tap you on the shoulder and tell you. But that might have been just a little bit too weird.
Then there is a much smaller version of awesomeness. Everyday in nature and easy to overlook. No one is going to talk about these acts on into time or usually even at all. It is the greatness of the small acts we do with each and every choice we make. This is what defines us as a community and as individuals.
From time to time, I like to celebrate small acts of awesomeness that have stuck with me. Shall we share one together?
I overheard the following conversation in Trader Joe's this weekend as I was pondering the cheese selection. It was between two regular, average, nothing-jumping-out-at-me-to-remember middle aged women standing in front of the Tofurky display.
Woman 1: So that's it?
Woman 2: Yep, it is. It even comes with it's own gravy.
W 1: And that is what she eats?
W 2: That's what she said.
W 1: Well, that's what you need then.
And the box went into the cart.
When you are saying this conversation in your head, make sure to say it like I heard it. With a bit of doubt maybe, but pretty much just checking the situation out. I am pretty sure neither of them had ever heard of Tofurky before.
Ok, you are thinking, this little story is getting a bit boring. But that's kind of the point. Nothing big was happening, just two women shopping. But the simple action of buying something that they had never heard of, and probably found a bit weird, for one of them to prepare for someone she cared about struck me as being one of the most important things I might hear all day. I was hearing pure tolerance and love for someone who was different from them.
Go back to the conversation and say it in your head with a negative attitude in your voice. That is what she eats? like you think she is weird and bothersome and just trying to cause trouble. All too often, it goes like that.
So, big shout out to that Tofurky buying woman and her supportive friend. I think it is super awesome that you cared enough about this person coming to your Thanksgiving feast to take into consideration her preferences.
I totally wanted to tap you on the shoulder and tell you. But that might have been just a little bit too weird.
Wednesday, November 10, 2010
I Love Words
Everything about them. How they can be placed into a basic sentence to serve your immediate communication need or how they can be spun into a tale that completely absorbs your very existence and requires you to awake from a dream when you are finished reading.
Years ago, I picked up a book in Heathrow airport. I cannot survive a flight without having enough reading material to leave no possibility that I will run out. I think I actually grabbed three off the 'buy two, get one' table. This specific book was by an Irish author and told the story of a carpenter who had become deaf as a child in a bombing by the IRA. It didn't fixate on the bombing, but was a novel of his life as an adult. I can't remember the plot beyond what I just told you, but what sticks in my mind is the artistry of the prose. I was mesmerized. Completely taken in by the words, how they formed together and flowed from one to the other was a thing of beauty. I loaned the book to my mother when she was recovering from a surgery and she cannot now find it. I long for that book. She assumes it is somewhere in her house still. All of her books were packed into boxes during a remodeling project and have not yet come back out. So someday we may be reunited. Maybe. Until then, it lives in my memory like a lost love. I do hope that the metaphor stops there and doesn't include it coming back into my life sporting long-forgotten terrible habits and a beer belly (or the literary equivalent - choppy sentences and often repeated dull words).
Here are a few ways to learn more words for yourself. (So when you talk to me, I will swoon.)
Save the Words - just heard about this the other day on NPR. You adopt a fading word and pledge to use it as often as possible. Haven't picked my word yet, but had to close the window while writing this because the little voices were kind of freaking me out.
Free Rice - terribly addictive game, designed by a father to help his son on a standardized vocab test. You just choose the word that means the same as the word you are given (the synonym - but you knew that word right?) and for each time you play, rice is donated to feed the hungry. As you advance levels, the words get harder. I popped on to make sure I got the link right and I am up to level 36. The words are getting rather difficult. Or should I say formidable?
Thesaurus.com - really I don't know half the words you think I know. Or rather, I know them but cannot always recall the perfect one at the moment that it is needed. So I cheat. Or I am quite ingenious. You pick. I just know that I hate to read something that uses the same old word over and over and over.
Now your task is to pick a word and start using it. Or play a round of free rice. And let me know what you picked or how you did. It will be music to my ears.
And if anyone ever finds out what the title of that book is, you will be my literary hero!
Years ago, I picked up a book in Heathrow airport. I cannot survive a flight without having enough reading material to leave no possibility that I will run out. I think I actually grabbed three off the 'buy two, get one' table. This specific book was by an Irish author and told the story of a carpenter who had become deaf as a child in a bombing by the IRA. It didn't fixate on the bombing, but was a novel of his life as an adult. I can't remember the plot beyond what I just told you, but what sticks in my mind is the artistry of the prose. I was mesmerized. Completely taken in by the words, how they formed together and flowed from one to the other was a thing of beauty. I loaned the book to my mother when she was recovering from a surgery and she cannot now find it. I long for that book. She assumes it is somewhere in her house still. All of her books were packed into boxes during a remodeling project and have not yet come back out. So someday we may be reunited. Maybe. Until then, it lives in my memory like a lost love. I do hope that the metaphor stops there and doesn't include it coming back into my life sporting long-forgotten terrible habits and a beer belly (or the literary equivalent - choppy sentences and often repeated dull words).
Here are a few ways to learn more words for yourself. (So when you talk to me, I will swoon.)
Save the Words - just heard about this the other day on NPR. You adopt a fading word and pledge to use it as often as possible. Haven't picked my word yet, but had to close the window while writing this because the little voices were kind of freaking me out.
Free Rice - terribly addictive game, designed by a father to help his son on a standardized vocab test. You just choose the word that means the same as the word you are given (the synonym - but you knew that word right?) and for each time you play, rice is donated to feed the hungry. As you advance levels, the words get harder. I popped on to make sure I got the link right and I am up to level 36. The words are getting rather difficult. Or should I say formidable?
Thesaurus.com - really I don't know half the words you think I know. Or rather, I know them but cannot always recall the perfect one at the moment that it is needed. So I cheat. Or I am quite ingenious. You pick. I just know that I hate to read something that uses the same old word over and over and over.
Now your task is to pick a word and start using it. Or play a round of free rice. And let me know what you picked or how you did. It will be music to my ears.
And if anyone ever finds out what the title of that book is, you will be my literary hero!
Wednesday, November 03, 2010
Grade Report
You know that open book test with no book? Apparently I set the curve. We got our tests back in class on Monday and I managed to pull off a 94% - perfect short answer and 4 multiple choice wrong. Two of those, I'm not so sure I couldn't argue my way into being right if I needed. The third was from the one "additional reading" article I didn't manage to read. And the fourth - well for that one I was just plain wrong. The professor let us know that the highest score in the class was 94%. I sat quietly at my desk, biting my tongue and holding in an overwhelming desire to announce that it was me (me, me, me!) See, the parking lot is big and dark and I am not sure I want to make any enemies.
So enough whining already.
I celebrated by stopping by Scoops Ice Cream on Orchard Lake on the way home. Ice cream when it is freezing out? Oh yes. Stick with me and your taste buds will be in heaven.
Order two baby scoops in the same bowl. The chocolate almond and the pumpkin. Pumpkin is a softer ice cream, so have it on top or the chocolate will squish it. Then dig in and get a bit of both on your spoon.
It was so fabulous I went back again today. I took a picture so you could see how it works.
Goes quite well with coffee if you are so inclined. There's a Starbucks right up the street...
So enough whining already.
I celebrated by stopping by Scoops Ice Cream on Orchard Lake on the way home. Ice cream when it is freezing out? Oh yes. Stick with me and your taste buds will be in heaven.
Order two baby scoops in the same bowl. The chocolate almond and the pumpkin. Pumpkin is a softer ice cream, so have it on top or the chocolate will squish it. Then dig in and get a bit of both on your spoon.
It was so fabulous I went back again today. I took a picture so you could see how it works.
Oops, I kind of ate it in the car. But here it is with visual aids so you won't forget.
Goes quite well with coffee if you are so inclined. There's a Starbucks right up the street...
Wednesday, October 27, 2010
Mood Meter - Only Slightly Improved
I am thinking that last post might have made me sound a bit scattered (to put it nicely.) That's kind of how I feel lately. On the inside - I sure hope not on the outside too.
I am just not having a good week. For no specific reason, more like a whole bunch of little ones. And my cheerfulness is squashed down by my worries. About stuff that I really can't control anyway.
So here is the plan. If there is anyone actually reading this - I know some of you said you were but I fear my lack of regular posting is killing my following - then post a comment. Doesn't have to be anything important, just say hi so I know you are there. Then I will feel obligated to write amusing stuff for you and, in the process, will probably cheer myself up a bit.
Or just do it anyway!
I am just not having a good week. For no specific reason, more like a whole bunch of little ones. And my cheerfulness is squashed down by my worries. About stuff that I really can't control anyway.
So here is the plan. If there is anyone actually reading this - I know some of you said you were but I fear my lack of regular posting is killing my following - then post a comment. Doesn't have to be anything important, just say hi so I know you are there. Then I will feel obligated to write amusing stuff for you and, in the process, will probably cheer myself up a bit.
Or just do it anyway!
Monday, October 25, 2010
Shut up! I hate you!
Well, not you specifically. Unless you were in front of me on I-75 today. Then maybe I actually do.
Let's get right to it. I am having a totally crap day. Which, when you look at the individual elements, does not seem that crappy. But trust me, the whole is much worse than the parts. Or something like that.
6:30: This is the time I should have gotten out of bed.
7:15ish: Crawl out of bed. No reason for being this tired. None at all. So now have to get ready a warp speed.
7:55: Leave for work. This is surprisingly good. If I leave before 8, it is safe to assume I will arrive on time. And since I have to cover the front desk for a vacation, I absolutely, positively, no questions, no excuses, have to show up on time. Which happens to be 8:30. So I was aiming to leave by 7:45 just in case.
8:05ish: Wow, traffic is great. I'm totally going to be early.
8:12 ish: Who is this absolute f*ckhead? Why is he letting everyone cut in front of his stupid oversize truck? The rule is that you just have to line up around Woodward to get on the ramp to I-75 - no zooming ahead and cutting in. Oh look, he has a bumper sticker to explain it. It says, "Caution! Driver just doesn't give a sh*t anymore."
8:22: OK, I'm on I-75. I'll just floor it. Right into the rear end of the minivan with the not working taillight. Almost.
8:26: Maniac driving gets me to the off ramp. Looking ahead - it's GREEN! It is never green at the no-turn-on-red, 3-minute-long off ramp light. And I am SO GOING TO MAKE IT! Yellow. So what, we can do it. NO! NO! NO! You are not stopping right in front of me. I was ready to run it you sh*t for brains total idiot coward b*stard. Everyone else went. Why are you in front of me?!?
8:27: Complete fail. Screaming at the car in front of me is not even helping. And I am giving it my best effort.
8:29: Hey, it's green. You bet your boots I am going to ride your sweet a$$ my friend.
8:31: Rush in with wild eyes, mad hair and quite an attitude. Grab the phone. Fortunately, no one called just then.
Basic day at work, covering the front desk. People called and asked me things I didn't know. I attempted to get them to people who did know. I prayed all three lines would not ring at once. I got nothing else done because the front desk computer doesn't have any of the design software I use. Overall, nothing much to report except that my dream career does not involve multiple telephone lines. Thank goodness!
6:05: Arrive at class for my open book mid-term.
Have you ever had that dream where you realize that you forgot to go to class all semester and suddenly there is a test and you have no idea what is on it? How about the one where you show up for the open book mid-term and realize you do not have your book with you? THAT SECOND ONE IS NOT A DREAM!
Yeah, all that rushing this morning that didn't even result in getting to work on time and I managed to run out of the house without the book. Which was sitting out on the kitchen island where I would certainly not miss it. Certainly.
Now all that remains is to find out how much I really KNOW about marketing versus how much I could have looked up really quickly. I should get bonus points for not having a meltdown.
But right now, I'm kind of with the truck driver - I just don't give a...
Let's get right to it. I am having a totally crap day. Which, when you look at the individual elements, does not seem that crappy. But trust me, the whole is much worse than the parts. Or something like that.
6:30: This is the time I should have gotten out of bed.
7:15ish: Crawl out of bed. No reason for being this tired. None at all. So now have to get ready a warp speed.
7:55: Leave for work. This is surprisingly good. If I leave before 8, it is safe to assume I will arrive on time. And since I have to cover the front desk for a vacation, I absolutely, positively, no questions, no excuses, have to show up on time. Which happens to be 8:30. So I was aiming to leave by 7:45 just in case.
8:05ish: Wow, traffic is great. I'm totally going to be early.
8:12 ish: Who is this absolute f*ckhead? Why is he letting everyone cut in front of his stupid oversize truck? The rule is that you just have to line up around Woodward to get on the ramp to I-75 - no zooming ahead and cutting in. Oh look, he has a bumper sticker to explain it. It says, "Caution! Driver just doesn't give a sh*t anymore."
8:22: OK, I'm on I-75. I'll just floor it. Right into the rear end of the minivan with the not working taillight. Almost.
8:26: Maniac driving gets me to the off ramp. Looking ahead - it's GREEN! It is never green at the no-turn-on-red, 3-minute-long off ramp light. And I am SO GOING TO MAKE IT! Yellow. So what, we can do it. NO! NO! NO! You are not stopping right in front of me. I was ready to run it you sh*t for brains total idiot coward b*stard. Everyone else went. Why are you in front of me?!?
8:27: Complete fail. Screaming at the car in front of me is not even helping. And I am giving it my best effort.
8:29: Hey, it's green. You bet your boots I am going to ride your sweet a$$ my friend.
8:31: Rush in with wild eyes, mad hair and quite an attitude. Grab the phone. Fortunately, no one called just then.
Basic day at work, covering the front desk. People called and asked me things I didn't know. I attempted to get them to people who did know. I prayed all three lines would not ring at once. I got nothing else done because the front desk computer doesn't have any of the design software I use. Overall, nothing much to report except that my dream career does not involve multiple telephone lines. Thank goodness!
6:05: Arrive at class for my open book mid-term.
Have you ever had that dream where you realize that you forgot to go to class all semester and suddenly there is a test and you have no idea what is on it? How about the one where you show up for the open book mid-term and realize you do not have your book with you? THAT SECOND ONE IS NOT A DREAM!
Yeah, all that rushing this morning that didn't even result in getting to work on time and I managed to run out of the house without the book. Which was sitting out on the kitchen island where I would certainly not miss it. Certainly.
Now all that remains is to find out how much I really KNOW about marketing versus how much I could have looked up really quickly. I should get bonus points for not having a meltdown.
But right now, I'm kind of with the truck driver - I just don't give a...
Friday, August 27, 2010
Prezzies!
I confess, I love presents. It is not about the money spent or whether it is fancy. And while I am a sucker for something that someone really put thought into or made themselves, that is not even a requirement. Heck, you could wrap a candy bar in the comics and stick a bow on the top and it would make my heart race to tear into it. (Well, I do love a good candy bar...but I digress.)
So, just a few minutes ago the doorbell rang and the fabulous UPS man had made a little visit. Seriously, is there a rule that you have to save opening the presents until after the wedding? I mean, you don't even have to save that up for until the groom gets home right?
I need to know because, depending on the answer, I may have to go find the packaging tape.
ps - A big thanks to Cathy and Claire and Josh, Rachel and Dahlia, my father and the whole GNO crew for giving me a little thrill these past few days!
So, just a few minutes ago the doorbell rang and the fabulous UPS man had made a little visit. Seriously, is there a rule that you have to save opening the presents until after the wedding? I mean, you don't even have to save that up for until the groom gets home right?
I need to know because, depending on the answer, I may have to go find the packaging tape.
ps - A big thanks to Cathy and Claire and Josh, Rachel and Dahlia, my father and the whole GNO crew for giving me a little thrill these past few days!
Monday, August 02, 2010
Scary Night!
Yesterday was a pretty good day. Could have been better if I were free of the evil coughing virus, but give it a few days and I'll be fabulous again. But sadly I have no training to report, as I had to sit out of the Sunday morning bike ride that I organized due to the aforementioned virus and coughing. But MV valiantly tried to kill his new friends with speed and endurance. These new friends were totally up to the challenge and I have heard a fun ride was had by all. Then I met them for breakfast - which I can guarantee was fabulous.
Yesterday night, on the other hand, was not pretty good. Anytime police have to be called, it falls in the not good arena. But it does feature a bike, so I guess it belongs here.
See, it was about 10:30 p.m. MV had gone up to bed. I was sitting in the couch, right where I am now in fact, wearing the same clothes I am currently wearing - ewwww - and having a little peek at Facebook before bed. (Don't worry - I put them on in the evening cuz I got my other clothes dirty from gardening, so these are relatively clean still. I know you were obsessing.) I heard a metallic noise that came from the gas fireplace area, right across the room from me and next to the big giant window with open curtains. Sometimes in the winter, when you turn off the fireplace, the little vent box outside gives a metallic twang as it cools. It was sort of like that. But it is not winter and the fireplace was not on. I sort of looked up, but the cats hadn't moved so I figured it was nothing. A minute later, Ari (cat) gets up and starts looking out the big giant window with the curtains open. But he doesn't looks scared, just interested. Tully (cat) starts looking out the back sliding door, again just interested. I figure that Black Kitty, their friend who thinks he lives on our deck and I don't know where he really lives but he doesn't look like a stray, was out there trying to get them to come play. Eventually both lay back down. I glance up again.
PEEKING IN THE LOWER RIGHT CORNER OF THE WINDOW IS A PALE FACE! I make a little startled sound - EEP! I am directly across the room from the face, staring right at it.It was lit only by the light coming out the window, which was not much, so I couldn't see that well. My logical mind takes over (later I realize this is not all that logical) and I figure it must be our friend Mark P who was in the area and came to see if we were still awake - but peeked in first to not bother us if we were sleeping. Or maybe my sister. Both of them are pretty pale. Mind you, I hadn't hear a car. So I say, "Hello. Who's out there?" The face moves back a bit, but is still there. "Hey," I say, "say your name so I know who it is." The face says nothing and moves away toward the front door. I go to the front door and flip on the outside light. I peer out the little window at the top, but no one is there. Now I'm annoyed - why is Mark P messing around? So I look back to the big giant window and kind of see that the person is pressed against the wall between the window and the front door - hiding from me. Then it occurs to me - that didn't really look like anyone I knew, even in the dark, and this might not be good. So I yell for MV, grab my purse (containing the cell phone) and book upstairs.
I quickly explain that there is someone peeking in the window and we need to fix this problem. MV says, "Well, did you bring me pants?" I'm all, "No, I didn't think of it. I brought a cell phone. I think I'll call 911." He says to wait and finds some jeans. He grabs the flashlight weapon and goes out the back door. Not what I had in mind exactly. But he checks all around the deck and door and there is no one. He gets the work flashlights and goes to the end of the drive. He reports back that the guy was laying in the yard across the street next to a bike, but got up, stumbled and ran into the woods. He never would have seen him except the bike reflectors lit up nicely when he hit them with the flashlight. He left the bike, which had branches and twigs all caught in it like it was dragged through the woods. We wonder if it was stolen from another house.
By this time, I have called 911. I quickly explained that it was not an immediate emergency, but that someone had been peeking in the windows and laying in the neighbor's yard so I thought I needed to report it. (Poor woman on 911 - I apparently am not skilled at explaining my emergency. So glad I am not famous so my call will not get played for everyone to hear.) She says she will send someone over and we should watch the bike so it doesn't go away. We stalk around the yard - ok, I cower and MV stalks - and keep guard over the bike. Within, I'm guessing, 10 minutes we have two police cars. With nice, VERY young looking (gosh I'm old) cops. Thank goodness they didn't come all lights flashing and freak the neighbors out - we possibly did that with our running around and flashlighting, but they probably assumed I lost a cat again. We told them the story. MV said they might have been a drunk since they did stumble when getting up. And there had been a party down the street earlier, but it didn't seem rowdy and was long over.
The cops looked at the bike. They said they guessed it was evidence and they should take it. Then they decided maybe it was better to lean it against the tree near the street to see if anyone came back. Or if they later saw someone riding a purple bike around in town - not sure what they planned to do actually. And they said they would be around the area that evening if anything else happened. They did not take fingerprints or spray cool solution all over everything like in CSI.
We went our separate ways. Aside from me thinking I heard a noise while we locked up the house, prompting MV to have to go out again with the flashlight, it was a quiet night from that point on. I can't say that I really slept much. I kept peeking out the bedroom window to see if the bike was still there.
And there it remained, still leaning on that tree at the end of the drive.
2:27 p.m.
Just looked out. The bike is gone. For those who will ask, no it was not an expensive bike.
Yesterday night, on the other hand, was not pretty good. Anytime police have to be called, it falls in the not good arena. But it does feature a bike, so I guess it belongs here.
See, it was about 10:30 p.m. MV had gone up to bed. I was sitting in the couch, right where I am now in fact, wearing the same clothes I am currently wearing - ewwww - and having a little peek at Facebook before bed. (Don't worry - I put them on in the evening cuz I got my other clothes dirty from gardening, so these are relatively clean still. I know you were obsessing.) I heard a metallic noise that came from the gas fireplace area, right across the room from me and next to the big giant window with open curtains. Sometimes in the winter, when you turn off the fireplace, the little vent box outside gives a metallic twang as it cools. It was sort of like that. But it is not winter and the fireplace was not on. I sort of looked up, but the cats hadn't moved so I figured it was nothing. A minute later, Ari (cat) gets up and starts looking out the big giant window with the curtains open. But he doesn't looks scared, just interested. Tully (cat) starts looking out the back sliding door, again just interested. I figure that Black Kitty, their friend who thinks he lives on our deck and I don't know where he really lives but he doesn't look like a stray, was out there trying to get them to come play. Eventually both lay back down. I glance up again.
PEEKING IN THE LOWER RIGHT CORNER OF THE WINDOW IS A PALE FACE! I make a little startled sound - EEP! I am directly across the room from the face, staring right at it.It was lit only by the light coming out the window, which was not much, so I couldn't see that well. My logical mind takes over (later I realize this is not all that logical) and I figure it must be our friend Mark P who was in the area and came to see if we were still awake - but peeked in first to not bother us if we were sleeping. Or maybe my sister. Both of them are pretty pale. Mind you, I hadn't hear a car. So I say, "Hello. Who's out there?" The face moves back a bit, but is still there. "Hey," I say, "say your name so I know who it is." The face says nothing and moves away toward the front door. I go to the front door and flip on the outside light. I peer out the little window at the top, but no one is there. Now I'm annoyed - why is Mark P messing around? So I look back to the big giant window and kind of see that the person is pressed against the wall between the window and the front door - hiding from me. Then it occurs to me - that didn't really look like anyone I knew, even in the dark, and this might not be good. So I yell for MV, grab my purse (containing the cell phone) and book upstairs.
I quickly explain that there is someone peeking in the window and we need to fix this problem. MV says, "Well, did you bring me pants?" I'm all, "No, I didn't think of it. I brought a cell phone. I think I'll call 911." He says to wait and finds some jeans. He grabs the flashlight weapon and goes out the back door. Not what I had in mind exactly. But he checks all around the deck and door and there is no one. He gets the work flashlights and goes to the end of the drive. He reports back that the guy was laying in the yard across the street next to a bike, but got up, stumbled and ran into the woods. He never would have seen him except the bike reflectors lit up nicely when he hit them with the flashlight. He left the bike, which had branches and twigs all caught in it like it was dragged through the woods. We wonder if it was stolen from another house.
By this time, I have called 911. I quickly explained that it was not an immediate emergency, but that someone had been peeking in the windows and laying in the neighbor's yard so I thought I needed to report it. (Poor woman on 911 - I apparently am not skilled at explaining my emergency. So glad I am not famous so my call will not get played for everyone to hear.) She says she will send someone over and we should watch the bike so it doesn't go away. We stalk around the yard - ok, I cower and MV stalks - and keep guard over the bike. Within, I'm guessing, 10 minutes we have two police cars. With nice, VERY young looking (gosh I'm old) cops. Thank goodness they didn't come all lights flashing and freak the neighbors out - we possibly did that with our running around and flashlighting, but they probably assumed I lost a cat again. We told them the story. MV said they might have been a drunk since they did stumble when getting up. And there had been a party down the street earlier, but it didn't seem rowdy and was long over.
The cops looked at the bike. They said they guessed it was evidence and they should take it. Then they decided maybe it was better to lean it against the tree near the street to see if anyone came back. Or if they later saw someone riding a purple bike around in town - not sure what they planned to do actually. And they said they would be around the area that evening if anything else happened. They did not take fingerprints or spray cool solution all over everything like in CSI.
We went our separate ways. Aside from me thinking I heard a noise while we locked up the house, prompting MV to have to go out again with the flashlight, it was a quiet night from that point on. I can't say that I really slept much. I kept peeking out the bedroom window to see if the bike was still there.
And there it remained, still leaning on that tree at the end of the drive.
2:27 p.m.
Just looked out. The bike is gone. For those who will ask, no it was not an expensive bike.
Saturday, July 24, 2010
Seattle to Portland - Day 14: Home again, home again
9:18 a.m.
Heck yeah, we are back in the Midwest. It is already over 80 and humid as can be. Luckily, the truck has air. I am not usually all about air, but sometimes, you gotta have it.
The truck is actually a bit like a hamster cage. The aquarium type, not the ones with little metal bars. We are in this box, windows on three sides, looking out on everything but not interacting with it. We have a stash of food and some water bottles so we are all set to hang for a while. In fact, when we do stop, there is a slight feeling of reluctance to leave this safe little haven and venture out into the big, scary world. Well, about half a second of reluctance. I also now understand why my sister’s hamsters kept escaping when we were kids. And they even had extra tubes to play in.
9:24 a.m.
I still do not have a mocha. Last night as we were winding our way back to the Super 8 – the only option available without another 30 minutes of driving and I believe I mentioned my reluctance – I noticed a sign for Under Ground. It was not open so not well lit, but I totally thought I had found a local coffee shop that would provide for my happiness in the morning. Yeah right. When you read the sign in the light of day it says Under Ground Graphics and they appear to print t-shirts. So much for that!
Had I not been positive that I was all hooked up, I could have looked up the nearest Starbucks while in he hotel. Nope – can’t say that I thought of that until far too late.
So here I am, riding along, with NO MOCHA! I am slightly less than chipper this morning,
9:31 a.m.
THERE IS A STARBUCKS AT EXIT 75! I just scared the crap out of MV.
9:44 a.m.
I have a mocha.
9:45 a.m.
Now we come to the “ain’t karma a bitch” portion of the story. See, on the way out of Starbucks, I asked if I should drive. MV says, “No, you will spill your mocha and we will have to go all the way back to get another one.” So we head out on the road. Apparently the lid was not put on MV’s coffee tightly. Now he only has 2 oz of coffee and wet feet.
I, on the other hand, am happily (not smugly at all) chewing the center out of the brie from my cheese and apple tray and sipping my giant mocha.
12:13 p.m.
We have more Starbucks. I am again happily eating the center out of the brie, accompanied this time by a shaken lemonade and iced tea. MV as cleared his karma issues and gets to have his coffee this time – all of it that is.
I again offered to drive, but MV wants to do it. I am starting to believe it is not because he feels that he needs to be the driver, but instead because he is not good at being the passenger. Being the passenger is a very important job. And not often very exciting unless you make it that way. Sometimes as the passenger, you have to:
5:48 p.m.
We are so close. But someone has to pee. And we are stuck in traffic near Ann Arbor. Ugh! But MV is nice and makes a stop after someone threatens to pee out the window.
6:30 p.m.
We arrive home. The cats celebrate.
Heck yeah, we are back in the Midwest. It is already over 80 and humid as can be. Luckily, the truck has air. I am not usually all about air, but sometimes, you gotta have it.
The truck is actually a bit like a hamster cage. The aquarium type, not the ones with little metal bars. We are in this box, windows on three sides, looking out on everything but not interacting with it. We have a stash of food and some water bottles so we are all set to hang for a while. In fact, when we do stop, there is a slight feeling of reluctance to leave this safe little haven and venture out into the big, scary world. Well, about half a second of reluctance. I also now understand why my sister’s hamsters kept escaping when we were kids. And they even had extra tubes to play in.
9:24 a.m.
I still do not have a mocha. Last night as we were winding our way back to the Super 8 – the only option available without another 30 minutes of driving and I believe I mentioned my reluctance – I noticed a sign for Under Ground. It was not open so not well lit, but I totally thought I had found a local coffee shop that would provide for my happiness in the morning. Yeah right. When you read the sign in the light of day it says Under Ground Graphics and they appear to print t-shirts. So much for that!
Had I not been positive that I was all hooked up, I could have looked up the nearest Starbucks while in he hotel. Nope – can’t say that I thought of that until far too late.
So here I am, riding along, with NO MOCHA! I am slightly less than chipper this morning,
9:31 a.m.
THERE IS A STARBUCKS AT EXIT 75! I just scared the crap out of MV.
9:44 a.m.
I have a mocha.
9:45 a.m.
Now we come to the “ain’t karma a bitch” portion of the story. See, on the way out of Starbucks, I asked if I should drive. MV says, “No, you will spill your mocha and we will have to go all the way back to get another one.” So we head out on the road. Apparently the lid was not put on MV’s coffee tightly. Now he only has 2 oz of coffee and wet feet.
I, on the other hand, am happily (not smugly at all) chewing the center out of the brie from my cheese and apple tray and sipping my giant mocha.
12:13 p.m.
We have more Starbucks. I am again happily eating the center out of the brie, accompanied this time by a shaken lemonade and iced tea. MV as cleared his karma issues and gets to have his coffee this time – all of it that is.
I again offered to drive, but MV wants to do it. I am starting to believe it is not because he feels that he needs to be the driver, but instead because he is not good at being the passenger. Being the passenger is a very important job. And not often very exciting unless you make it that way. Sometimes as the passenger, you have to:
- Read out loud the states from every license plate that passes.
- Read the map and not get the river names wrong. (which is surprisingly more difficult than you would think)
- Provide musical entertainment if you forgot the CDs.
- Look at magazines to find interesting bits of articles to highlight for the driver.
- Not comment when you don’t agree with a driving move.
- Write the blog.
- Wiggle around a lot (well, maybe not a requirement, but it helps pass time).
- Nap.
- Periodically ask, “So, how you doin’ over there?”
- And, of course, announce the baby cows.
5:48 p.m.
We are so close. But someone has to pee. And we are stuck in traffic near Ann Arbor. Ugh! But MV is nice and makes a stop after someone threatens to pee out the window.
6:30 p.m.
We arrive home. The cats celebrate.
Friday, July 23, 2010
Seattle to Portland – Day 13: So close...
7 a.m.
We head into the truck. I eat a lovely breakfast of left over raw veggies dipped into a little cup of cream cheese from the otherwise gluten filled free breakfast. I kept them in the carry out box on the air conditioner all night. Turns out, this is fabulous breakfast.
8 a.m.
Corn, corn, corn. Maybe a nap.
9:58 a.m.
MV passes through a time zone and does the phone thing again. I do not – zzzz… So now we have lost another hour. Where do they go?
10:34 a.m.
Apparently I have slept all morning. Corn, corn, corn.
MV is saying he is going to drive all the way to MI this evening.
A bit later
I read to MV from Triathlete magazine. I am terribly disappointed by this magazine – while the info seems ok, a lot of the writing is on maybe a 4th grade level and it just sort of touches on a subject, never really getting to the meat of anything. Certainly don’t need to subscribe to that one!
Sometime that afternoon
We pass into Iowa. Corn, corn, corn. See, I have now made up lots of corn songs. They are to the tune of other familiar songs, but feature the word corn almost exclusively.
4:48 p.m.
We are stopping to see some friends of MV’s family from when they used to live in Iowa. So we drive through this town that MV hasn’t seen since he was 10. Strangely, he remembers all these details.
We stop by for an hour visit. They have plans that evening so cannot visit longer, but it is good because we need to get going again if we are going to make IL for the night. Luckily the drive all night and get to MI at like 7 a.m. plan has been dismissed. So glad truck is too uncomfortable for real sleep. If it were, MV would probably try to get me to sleep again so he could try it.
MV says remove the word probably from the above sentence.
8:11 p.m.
Wendy’s for dinner - again. But it’s just so easy to order a baked potato and not have to explain.
MV gets fries and says we will share. I realize that the blog has been a bit boring today and am sure that this will provide some good material - he will eat most of them but blame me for eating them all. I will say it is a subtle way of calling me piggy and pout. Instead, he eats some and gives me the box to finish. Seriously, boys are full of surprises.
10:59 p.m.
MV is treated to a medley of show tunes. Well, partial show tunes with some humming in the parts where I forgot the words. It is pretty amazing how much of Annie I recall.
MV suggests maybe I want to sing some Matchbox 20 or Third Eye Blind instead. Hmmm…nope.
12:04 a.m.
We have crossed into Illinois.
Me: We must find a hotel. If I have to stay in this truck 30 minutes more, I will go crazy.
MV: Um, you already are.
(Evidence presented: I was singing along to this country song I found messing with the scan button on the radio - and I magically knew the words. You be the judge.)
We head into the truck. I eat a lovely breakfast of left over raw veggies dipped into a little cup of cream cheese from the otherwise gluten filled free breakfast. I kept them in the carry out box on the air conditioner all night. Turns out, this is fabulous breakfast.
8 a.m.
Corn, corn, corn. Maybe a nap.
9:58 a.m.
MV passes through a time zone and does the phone thing again. I do not – zzzz… So now we have lost another hour. Where do they go?
10:34 a.m.
Apparently I have slept all morning. Corn, corn, corn.
MV is saying he is going to drive all the way to MI this evening.
A bit later
I read to MV from Triathlete magazine. I am terribly disappointed by this magazine – while the info seems ok, a lot of the writing is on maybe a 4th grade level and it just sort of touches on a subject, never really getting to the meat of anything. Certainly don’t need to subscribe to that one!
Sometime that afternoon
We pass into Iowa. Corn, corn, corn. See, I have now made up lots of corn songs. They are to the tune of other familiar songs, but feature the word corn almost exclusively.
4:48 p.m.
We are stopping to see some friends of MV’s family from when they used to live in Iowa. So we drive through this town that MV hasn’t seen since he was 10. Strangely, he remembers all these details.
We stop by for an hour visit. They have plans that evening so cannot visit longer, but it is good because we need to get going again if we are going to make IL for the night. Luckily the drive all night and get to MI at like 7 a.m. plan has been dismissed. So glad truck is too uncomfortable for real sleep. If it were, MV would probably try to get me to sleep again so he could try it.
MV says remove the word probably from the above sentence.
8:11 p.m.
Wendy’s for dinner - again. But it’s just so easy to order a baked potato and not have to explain.
MV gets fries and says we will share. I realize that the blog has been a bit boring today and am sure that this will provide some good material - he will eat most of them but blame me for eating them all. I will say it is a subtle way of calling me piggy and pout. Instead, he eats some and gives me the box to finish. Seriously, boys are full of surprises.
10:59 p.m.
MV is treated to a medley of show tunes. Well, partial show tunes with some humming in the parts where I forgot the words. It is pretty amazing how much of Annie I recall.
MV suggests maybe I want to sing some Matchbox 20 or Third Eye Blind instead. Hmmm…nope.
12:04 a.m.
We have crossed into Illinois.
Me: We must find a hotel. If I have to stay in this truck 30 minutes more, I will go crazy.
MV: Um, you already are.
(Evidence presented: I was singing along to this country song I found messing with the scan button on the radio - and I magically knew the words. You be the judge.)
Thursday, July 22, 2010
Seattle to Portland – Day 12: Driving in the rain
8:49 a.m.
We visit the truck stop before getting on the road. The truck stop is amazing. See, the hotel breakfast was completely lacking in anything I could eat. But the truck stop has little packages with carrots, dip and cheese. And a different one with apples, peanut butter and trail mix. The peanut butter is just peanuts and salt. Plus I get some V-8. Breakfast of champions obtained!
I negotiate a little stop for the morning. I have no idea how I got this one approved...
10:18 a.m.
At the Pearl Izumi Factory Store in Park City, UT. More bike shorts are acquired. Mark gets a cute jacket – I mean a manly jacket of course. We chat for while with Amy who is originally from the Midwest and loves to ride bikes too. She tells us about a cool coffee shop on the other side of the freeway, owned by their mayor. After a detour through Gap (all capris are $12.99), we head out. We can’t find the coffee shop – she said go toward the freeway, but I think we went the wrong way toward it – so we just hop on and are off.
Don’t worry – she also told us about a coffee shop we have to visit in Nebraska.
Noon or so…
Maybe if I just sort of lay down on this seat a bit, I can see the tops of the mountains better. Zzzz…
5:29 p.m.
My turn to drive. After MV makes fun of me for driving on the toot strips, he sleeps so all is well. I am pretty good at this truck driving thing. It would be fun to be a truck driver – for maybe one week or so.
Of course, as soon as MV falls asleep, it starts raining. So I drive through the rainstorm with lightning. Not sure if there was thunder – didn’t hear any but the truck is pretty loud when the windows are cracked.
8:17 p.m.
We stop at a rest stop. This is the dirtiest place we have been on all of the trip. I have actually been impressed with the rest stops – clean and in good repair. This one – well, there was a poo smell in the air and poo to go along with it. But cute baby cows along the road in. And MV decides he wants to drive again.
9:23 p.m.
Uh oh! MV just got pulled over. And we had no clue why – especially since the truck won’t even let him speed. Turns out, we were in a climbing-to-the-summit zone where no trucks can go in the left lane. MV had gone out to pass. Apparently there was a sign and we didn’t see it. But the cutie highway patrol guy gave us a warning when he found out we were not commercial and said just to make sure not to go in the left lane when climbing. They even have blue warning papers that you get. Poor MV – he is actually very careful about following all the truck rules (we even went to a weigh station) so not fun to miss one and get pulled over.
But there were some fabulous wildflowers and this amazing rock formation right where we were stopped, so it was quite lovely for me.
9 p.m.
We stop for dinner in Cheyenne, WY. MV still wants to get to Nebraska tonight – even just over the border so he can check off three states for the day – but agrees that there might be nothing to eat then and we cannot live on snacks alone. Cheyenne is in bold type on the map and has its own little city map inset, but apparently it all must be relative. We seem to have picked the most populated exit, but see only fast food. We were aiming for a little diner or family restaurant. I remember that the Holiday Inn billboard had “full service restaurant” listed. It is not well labeled – almost like they didn’t want us to find it – but totally worth the hunt. I got a huge platter of fresh raw veggies, a grilled burger with no bun and real mashed potatoes with no gravy. OK, I’m thinking that maybe this doesn’t sound fabulous to you, but this is one of my favorite meals. They even had the good pickles.
Now, revived, we drive again. It is dark and there is fabulous lightning in the sky ahead so we are amused.
10:48 p.m.
The Days Inn is sold out? What could possibly be going on in Kimball to sell out the Days Inn? But the Super 8 had a room with three beds that he can give us cheap. Three beds? It is just a weird night.
I would just kill for a soy mocha in the morning!!!
We visit the truck stop before getting on the road. The truck stop is amazing. See, the hotel breakfast was completely lacking in anything I could eat. But the truck stop has little packages with carrots, dip and cheese. And a different one with apples, peanut butter and trail mix. The peanut butter is just peanuts and salt. Plus I get some V-8. Breakfast of champions obtained!
I negotiate a little stop for the morning. I have no idea how I got this one approved...
10:18 a.m.
At the Pearl Izumi Factory Store in Park City, UT. More bike shorts are acquired. Mark gets a cute jacket – I mean a manly jacket of course. We chat for while with Amy who is originally from the Midwest and loves to ride bikes too. She tells us about a cool coffee shop on the other side of the freeway, owned by their mayor. After a detour through Gap (all capris are $12.99), we head out. We can’t find the coffee shop – she said go toward the freeway, but I think we went the wrong way toward it – so we just hop on and are off.
Don’t worry – she also told us about a coffee shop we have to visit in Nebraska.
Noon or so…
Maybe if I just sort of lay down on this seat a bit, I can see the tops of the mountains better. Zzzz…
5:29 p.m.
My turn to drive. After MV makes fun of me for driving on the toot strips, he sleeps so all is well. I am pretty good at this truck driving thing. It would be fun to be a truck driver – for maybe one week or so.
Of course, as soon as MV falls asleep, it starts raining. So I drive through the rainstorm with lightning. Not sure if there was thunder – didn’t hear any but the truck is pretty loud when the windows are cracked.
8:17 p.m.
We stop at a rest stop. This is the dirtiest place we have been on all of the trip. I have actually been impressed with the rest stops – clean and in good repair. This one – well, there was a poo smell in the air and poo to go along with it. But cute baby cows along the road in. And MV decides he wants to drive again.
9:23 p.m.
Uh oh! MV just got pulled over. And we had no clue why – especially since the truck won’t even let him speed. Turns out, we were in a climbing-to-the-summit zone where no trucks can go in the left lane. MV had gone out to pass. Apparently there was a sign and we didn’t see it. But the cutie highway patrol guy gave us a warning when he found out we were not commercial and said just to make sure not to go in the left lane when climbing. They even have blue warning papers that you get. Poor MV – he is actually very careful about following all the truck rules (we even went to a weigh station) so not fun to miss one and get pulled over.
But there were some fabulous wildflowers and this amazing rock formation right where we were stopped, so it was quite lovely for me.
9 p.m.
We stop for dinner in Cheyenne, WY. MV still wants to get to Nebraska tonight – even just over the border so he can check off three states for the day – but agrees that there might be nothing to eat then and we cannot live on snacks alone. Cheyenne is in bold type on the map and has its own little city map inset, but apparently it all must be relative. We seem to have picked the most populated exit, but see only fast food. We were aiming for a little diner or family restaurant. I remember that the Holiday Inn billboard had “full service restaurant” listed. It is not well labeled – almost like they didn’t want us to find it – but totally worth the hunt. I got a huge platter of fresh raw veggies, a grilled burger with no bun and real mashed potatoes with no gravy. OK, I’m thinking that maybe this doesn’t sound fabulous to you, but this is one of my favorite meals. They even had the good pickles.
Now, revived, we drive again. It is dark and there is fabulous lightning in the sky ahead so we are amused.
10:48 p.m.
The Days Inn is sold out? What could possibly be going on in Kimball to sell out the Days Inn? But the Super 8 had a room with three beds that he can give us cheap. Three beds? It is just a weird night.
I would just kill for a soy mocha in the morning!!!
Wednesday, July 21, 2010
Seattle to Portland – Day 11: On the road again, again
8 a.m.
We are driving.
We decide to come down 84 to 80 so we go home a different way than we came. Turns out, 84 is gorgeous. All mountains on one side and Columbia River on the other. We drive along pointing out cool stuff. Each person misses what the other person sees because there are a lot of trees.
Me: Look, a waterfall.
MV: Where?
Me: Oops, trees in the way.
MV: Look, a tugboat.
Me: Where?
MV: Oops, trees again.
Apparently only one person per car gets to see each sight.
10 a.m.
We have not resolved the forgot-the-CDs issue. Actually, we forgot we had it so didn’t remember to get a blank CD to burn something from iTunes. And of course there are no radio stations up in the mountains. The radio just scrolls through the scan and comes up with nothing.
Me: So what do people do who have no radio stations?
MV: Sing to themselves using animal noises.
How interesting that I inherently knew what to do and had been doing it all along.
11:42 a.m.
We are coming down out of a mountain pass area. MV says it looks like we are now in the plains of Oregon. Then corrects himself that it is not exactly plains yet. I agree, it’s more like foothills.
Me: So do you know why they are called foothills?
MV: Yes, but why do you think?
Me: Well, because they sometimes look like little toes.
(MV remains skeptical of this explanation and requests that this be noted.
Though he cannot deny that some do resemble toes.)
1:02 p.m.
Me: So, are you getting tired of driving?
MV: Getting there…
Me: But look – baby cows!
1:58 p.m.
Pull into the rest stop. Sign says simply “Rattlesnakes.” Sweet – I wonder where they are?
MV: Next exit, I want a real gas stations with Starbucks coffee.
I failed to find any rattlesnakes.
4:11 p.m.
We stop at the truck stop. But I just can’t face more truck stop food. I wander aimlessly. I relize there is a Subway and they can do a veggie salad. The girl is very nice, but has no idea about dressing ingredients. I go with red wine vinegar and a sprinkle of oregano. I miss Seattle…but the salad does perk me up, iceberg lettuce and all, and bring back my happy thoughts. We also get more beef jerky, you know, just in case.
5:20 p.m.
We are in rush hour traffic in Boise. We just realized we had passed into the mtn time zone and didn’t even notice.
We see a military jet take off. Sweet! Totally sounds like it does in the movies.
MV does not stop at the Outlet Mall. Even when I reason that when we leave, the traffic will be gone. But we do have radio stations here.
6:11 p.m.
MV tells me to look at the view. It is just golden fields curving up into mountains on all sides. The mountains are all flat on top with these cool rock formations. Then I notice a small rather rundown house tucked into one of the fields.
Me: Imagine living in the middle of nowhere like that.
MV: Sounds good...I could.
Me: But how would anyone come over for dinner?
MV: Helicopter
Me: OK, I could live there if I had a helicopter.
MV: No, our friends would have a helicopter that they would fly in.
Me: No, I want the helicopter.
MV: Rich friends...
Me: Well it certainly looks like they saved a lot on siding and paint. May as well get a helicopter.
Yeah, we need more radio.
10:04 p.m.
We order everything off the Wendy's menu. The drive thru guy has to tell MV to slow down so he can get it all.
Slightly later
We are in the hotel in Utah surrounded by food. Zzzzz...
ps - Southern Idaho is very, very dry except where they irrigate. It is basically all yellow.
pps - We keep having this conversation. Or some version of it.
Me: Guess what?
MV: What?
Me: I rode 200 miles.
MV: Over 200 miles actually. I'm very glad you did.
Me: Did you really think I would?
MV: Well, I certainly hoped you would.
Yeah, it hasn't gotten old yet. At least, not to me. I am not going to ask MV if he is tired of it.
We are driving.
We decide to come down 84 to 80 so we go home a different way than we came. Turns out, 84 is gorgeous. All mountains on one side and Columbia River on the other. We drive along pointing out cool stuff. Each person misses what the other person sees because there are a lot of trees.
Me: Look, a waterfall.
MV: Where?
Me: Oops, trees in the way.
MV: Look, a tugboat.
Me: Where?
MV: Oops, trees again.
Apparently only one person per car gets to see each sight.
10 a.m.
We have not resolved the forgot-the-CDs issue. Actually, we forgot we had it so didn’t remember to get a blank CD to burn something from iTunes. And of course there are no radio stations up in the mountains. The radio just scrolls through the scan and comes up with nothing.
Me: So what do people do who have no radio stations?
MV: Sing to themselves using animal noises.
How interesting that I inherently knew what to do and had been doing it all along.
11:42 a.m.
We are coming down out of a mountain pass area. MV says it looks like we are now in the plains of Oregon. Then corrects himself that it is not exactly plains yet. I agree, it’s more like foothills.
Me: So do you know why they are called foothills?
MV: Yes, but why do you think?
Me: Well, because they sometimes look like little toes.
(MV remains skeptical of this explanation and requests that this be noted.
Though he cannot deny that some do resemble toes.)
1:02 p.m.
Me: So, are you getting tired of driving?
MV: Getting there…
Me: But look – baby cows!
1:58 p.m.
Pull into the rest stop. Sign says simply “Rattlesnakes.” Sweet – I wonder where they are?
MV: Next exit, I want a real gas stations with Starbucks coffee.
I failed to find any rattlesnakes.
4:11 p.m.
We stop at the truck stop. But I just can’t face more truck stop food. I wander aimlessly. I relize there is a Subway and they can do a veggie salad. The girl is very nice, but has no idea about dressing ingredients. I go with red wine vinegar and a sprinkle of oregano. I miss Seattle…but the salad does perk me up, iceberg lettuce and all, and bring back my happy thoughts. We also get more beef jerky, you know, just in case.
5:20 p.m.
We are in rush hour traffic in Boise. We just realized we had passed into the mtn time zone and didn’t even notice.
We see a military jet take off. Sweet! Totally sounds like it does in the movies.
MV does not stop at the Outlet Mall. Even when I reason that when we leave, the traffic will be gone. But we do have radio stations here.
6:11 p.m.
MV tells me to look at the view. It is just golden fields curving up into mountains on all sides. The mountains are all flat on top with these cool rock formations. Then I notice a small rather rundown house tucked into one of the fields.
Me: Imagine living in the middle of nowhere like that.
MV: Sounds good...I could.
Me: But how would anyone come over for dinner?
MV: Helicopter
Me: OK, I could live there if I had a helicopter.
MV: No, our friends would have a helicopter that they would fly in.
Me: No, I want the helicopter.
MV: Rich friends...
Me: Well it certainly looks like they saved a lot on siding and paint. May as well get a helicopter.
Yeah, we need more radio.
10:04 p.m.
We order everything off the Wendy's menu. The drive thru guy has to tell MV to slow down so he can get it all.
Slightly later
We are in the hotel in Utah surrounded by food. Zzzzz...
ps - Southern Idaho is very, very dry except where they irrigate. It is basically all yellow.
pps - We keep having this conversation. Or some version of it.
Me: Guess what?
MV: What?
Me: I rode 200 miles.
MV: Over 200 miles actually. I'm very glad you did.
Me: Did you really think I would?
MV: Well, I certainly hoped you would.
Yeah, it hasn't gotten old yet. At least, not to me. I am not going to ask MV if he is tired of it.
Seattle to Portland – Day 10: We eat, sleep and skate
Well, that about sums it up. But I'll fill in some details later.
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