News not from my navel.

I've come to terms with the drama I've been dealing with lately. More or less, anyway. It has to do with work, so I won't/can't/ought not to write about it here.

Meanwhile, the world is like one disgusting giant sauna. Except for without that lovely, relaxing, heavy, pulse slowing, heavenly pore-clensing sauna-ness of a sauna. And there is no cold shower during or after. The worst part about humidity is that gross smells hang about in the air for longer. Case in point: my cat's butt. Cecily is tiny and dainty and wee and so much more like a dolly than a real cat that I don't usually don't even think of her as having a butt. I mean, yes, she does that cat thing where she walks back and forth in front of my face while I am lying down reading, but there is no gross factor. usually. In general, I don't see butt, I don't smell butt, there is no butt-ness to her rear parts. But tonight in the humidity, I became distressedly aware of the reality: my cat, she is real. and she has a butt. a cat-butt. with all the stinky butt-ness that is therewith implied. Go away, stupid yucky humid sauna weather. I want my dainty buttless princess flower kitty back.

Of course, it might not be just the humidity that is making Cecily's butt so very butt-like. The worst part of this whole packing thing is the fact that she seems to think that packing peanuts are tasty tasty kitty toys for munching. I think maybe they give her gas.

Trying to avoid the navel gazing

Best part about the packing process?

Watching Crispin hide and take naps in the various boxes and laundry baskets scattered throughout the house.

In other news, I'm feeling really low energy, isolated and sad these days. My inspiration and enthusiasm for Fiber Arts seems to have dropped off the face of the earth as the temperature crept towards 80. I need to turn my attention to the soul-harrowing process of applying for jobs, and deciding what I'm going to do with my life come September when the rest of the world as I know it goes Back To School.

Also, I taught myself how to use a manual roto-tiller. As in: the kind where the only power comes from my body, no fossil fuels involved. It was crazy hard work, but I was proud of the beautiful loose soil I created out of clay-y lumps.

I'm showing my summer-program students Casablanca. As we watch, I'm impressed with the wit, the subtlety of the script, the beauty of the images, but I'm hit over the head and in the gut again and again by the chauvinism. As if it were a 20 pound brick. I really kind of want to show them Campion's The Piano as an antidote, but don't think I can get away with showing a rated-r film to high-schoolers.

wisdom?

enabling "advice" I gave myself yesterday to boost me out of the grumps: if chocolate doesn't fix it, try vodka...

I'm making a quilt in June. What was I thinking...

holy crap, we're moving again at the end of July. New apartment is cooler, but smaller than current apartment. I need an assisstant to help me Throw Out Crap.

oh yeah, I've agreed to spend tomorrow doing The Bikeride To End All Bikerides. I think it's something like 70 miles round trip, and it's ALL HILLS. There's breakfast at the half-way point, but still. I have not-so-secret-fear that I might not make it, and all the other children will point and laugh at the fat chick. And that I might DIE a horrid Death of Doom. Again, what was I thinking?

Interview went ok. Now I just have to sit tight and see if there are enough enrollments for them to justify hiring me.

In other news, I'm slogging through the last circle of grading hell... after I'm done, I'm taking the world's longest shower and assessing the Fiber Arts Situation I've got going on around here.

Oh, so you think my ramblings about Fiber Arts would be more "interesting" if I posted pictures, too, do you?

I can't decide if I should flip you the bird or just start laughing maniacally. I am, after all, working on about 3.5 hours of sleep here.

Pictures! hah! Oh the technology! oh the humanity! the horror! the horror!

The digi cam and I, we are not such great friends, to say nothing of that creepy little digi cam cord that transfers the pixely pictures to the 'puter...

... but maybe after the World's Longest Shower, and the Fiber Arts Situation Assessment, I'll see what I can do.

until then, slog through the blue books I shall.

what do you think the strong verb declension for "to slog" should be? Let's have a contest! The winner will not receive a used blue book.

Blathering

It's the first day in I-don't-know-how-many that I have the WHOLE day to myself. The sheer decadence of it is so, so very tasty after this hectic week. Just knowing that this is MY day, a day for ME is so mentally liberating and rejunvenating, that it almost doesn't matter that I'm feeling so physically gross that I probably won't get to do half of the things I wanted to to (woodworking project, bike ride, thoroughly clean kitchen...).

We put our TV in the basement, did you know that? We were spending too much time watching law & order re-runs, and then the stereo broke. We're not ready yet to invest in a good sound system, and it seemed silly to spend money on another cheap-o stereo only to have it break in a few years when our computer has a really nice set of speakers. So we set the desktop up in the living room as a combined stereo/dvd watching device, and since hulu doesn't carry law and order, we watch a LOT less TV now. J has been playing the guitar more, and I've been reading more, being more innovtive with my knitting obsession, and my brain has just been feeling like more of a creative place in general. So, yeay.

We're not getting a CSA share this year. My employment situation is what one could call "piecemeal" and "not stable," so I was just not comfortable putting down a huge chunk of change up front, especially as we did not find another couple to split a full share with, and the price of a half-share is considerably more than the price of half of a full share.

I'm a little sad about not getting the CSA. I am excited about sharing a garden plot with another couple this summer, though. I have really been wanting to learn how to grow my own vegetables, and my friend S said she'd teach me how.

Tidbits

An older gentleman informed me the other day at St. Vinnie's that a lot of people like to collect old pencils, and that people on the internet pay a lot of money for them.

***

When I was a child, I took great pleasure in a new box of crayons or colored pencils- each piece of uniform length and pointiness, the colors arranged in that highly-pleasing just-from-the-factory order. As an adult, I find the same kind of pleasure in simple luxuries: a fresh card of bobby pins or hair clips; a new package of purse-tissues; an unopened pack of gum.

***

I always want to know the strangest things about people: are you finicky about your Grilled Cheese Sandwich, and if so, how do you like it? When you walk into a bay of empty bathroom stalls, do you have a preference for which stall you'd like to use? (ie, one closest to the wall, the one on the far end...) What kinds of systems do you have for organizing things or making choices? Do you feel strongly about chewy cookies, squeezing toothpaste, and the direction from which the toilet paper falls? What foods do you absolutely hate? Do details like these provide any information about a person's character or personality? Does knowing these little factoids help a person "know" an other person?

***

Today I planned to buy a paper from the homeless guy on the corner. I had some cash in small bills, I made sure to put it in my pocket ('cause I'm paranoid about whipping out my wallet in public - as a child it was drilled into me that this is a good way to get your whole wallet stolen when you are intending to only give a modest donation), and then when I exited Walgreens after purchasing a new deoderant and some cotton balls, the usually Street News vendor spot was vacant, and there was an eerie sense of emptiness on the uncrowded sidewalks.

***

There have been signs of spring. I've seen the pussy willow budding, and the house finches are returning. We put the winter coats and scarves/hats/gloves collection back into basement storage. In every other season except for winter, I know and feel that the other seasons exist and will come around. I can remember what it feels like to be in a different season. In winter, I only know, feel, and experience winter.

This is romance:

Walking over a pedestrian bridge over a river alight with the reflections of streetlamps on a slightly overcast night with just enough rain sprinkling down to dust some rain freckles across your nose. Holding hands with your loved one, eyes wide, taking in the majesty of skyscrapers, exchanging glances, shy smiles, a fresh breeze in your face.

This is romance on drugs:
walking over said footbridge, same environmental conditions as described above, except your loved one is several yards ahead of you because he is a Very Fast Walker, and you are corralled between a lovey-dovey couple who found happiness with eachother in the process of divorcing other people on one side, and a older woman in very tight leather pants walking along with her teenage daughter in front of you, both are clad in very expensive clothing. Someone catcalls.
The mom replies back, in supposed defense of her daughter, "You couldn't handle her, she's too expensive."
The daughter protests, "mom! I'm not!"
The mom replies, "I'm telling you what I tell Rebecca! You're expensive. You need to own it!"
The mom swishes her tush and encourages the daughter to saunter.

John Keats rolled over in his grave, and probably about 50 lovebirds around the world dropped dead for no apparent reason AT THAT VERY MOMENT.

I'm still deciding if being a witness to this instance makes my life richer or poorer.

A Simple Lesson in Economics...

Consider a spherical cow. Or rather, consider the given that I Like Brussel Sprouts.

At the Farmers' Market, a pint of Brussel Sprouts costs 2 dollars.
A giant stalk of Brussel Sprouts costs 4 dollars.
The lady farmer selling the Brussel Sprouts says that one giant stalk can yeild up to several quarts of Brussel Sprouts, but that she sells them already trimmed off of the stalk for people who don't want that many or who don't want to do the work of trimming themselves.

I say "I have a knife and a freezer, and I'm not afraid to use them!"
We buy the Giant Stalk of Brussel Sprouts.
J. trims them, and blanches 1/2 of them for the freezer while I go shoppingrun errands.

Dudes, my life is made of so much win.

National Post Something Daily Month... or Whatever...

So, it's National Post Something Every Day Month. I was all on board and psyched up to do it, and then I messed up already on day two. meh.

So what did I do yesterday instead of posting something silly on teh Interwebs?
I gave a kick-ass lecture! In front of like 160 people... well, ok. That's how many students are officially in the class, and there were a lot of empty seats, but still- it was a Very Large Audience. And I did a good job! Yeay me!

And then instead of diligently doing work for class, I went to the bookstore and drooled over beautiful pictures of tattoos. I am getting one. Soon, I think.

the great lakes tour, take two

Ohio is made of Jell-o and clouds and beautiful arts-and-crafts period bungalows. Also, Lakewood, OH (a suburb of Cleaveland) has cobblestone streets and a coffee shop that makes mochas with chocolate milk!

Michigan has lots of roadkill. Possibly even more than Oregon. Mostly I saw dead raccoons. Raccoons are charming and cute unless they are eating the eggs out of your cooler when you are camping. Or dead and gory on the side of the highway. Sad dead raccoons. Also, I drank copious amounts of Folger's Coffee while I was in Michigan. I think when they put the bad taste in that stuff they take the caffeine out, because it didn't do much to wake me up.

We stayed in this awesome little cheap road-side motel. I've been a lot of different little cheap road-side motels... not for any illicit reasons, just because I am cheap. This road side motel seriously took the cake. It was scarier than the one I stayed in in a random town in Wyoming that had shag carpet and dark wood paneling and mattress that was probably of the same vintage as the decor. The motel in Michigan did not have a deadbolt or a little door chain on the inside of the room. Instead, it had a little loop of vinyl-coated cable (think like a skinny bike lock cable) that you could put over the doorknob to keep the door closed and secure against any intruders. J tried to tell some jokes about chain saw murderers and Hitchcock films, but I stuck my fingers in my ears and refused to listen.

The water where we were staying was so luxurious and soft! My hair was flat, but my skin felt like I had been to a hot-springs spa.

All in all, I think I like rural Michigan.

Indiana wants you. Don't go back there. Specifically, Indiana seems to want you to Make Babies For The Lord. Drive through as fast as possible. If you want to make some babies, make them on your own terms.

Chicago is still the only part of Illi-noise that I know. oh, except for Rockford. We pulled off at Rockford to go pee and switch drivers, and wouldn't you know it, I got discombobulated and lost trying to get back on the interstate. Specifically, I got on the interstate going in the opposite direction that I was supposed to. Super embarrassing. On the other hand, whatever. At least I know how to plunge a clogged toilet.

The "Welcome to Wisconsin" sign is made out of rusticated logs - very faux Northwoods. It was oddly comforting and made me hungry for some cheese and summer sausage, although to be honest, at that point in time I was pretty hungry anyways, so it might have just been a fluke.

Did you know that East of Illinois on the Great Lakes Tour, they don't have KFC, they have Popeye's chicken? I wonder if they are owned by the same company or what the deal is. Is it too close to Kentucky for people to purchase something that is advertised with Kentucky?

Nevertheless, something about driving through the small towns, truck stops and fall colors made me crave chicken strips. I resisted, but only because J agreed to get pizza when we got back safe and home.

hilarious nerds on the high road

Scene: J and I are rumbling through Michigan in our beloved Kentucky Chicken Shack, returning from a Wedding Of Friends, when we hit a patch of rough road.

KCS: ka-thunk ka-thunk ka-thunk
Me: ouch
J: I wonder if in the future someone will invent some kind of material that will make roads that won't crack.
Me: sounds like a good idea. Maybe you and Ben and Nick and Dan will have to do some Experiments For Science.
J: ahhhh.... Science. We'll add a little Science to a test tube...
Me: *giggle*
J: ... Powder of Science or Liquid Science? Maybe a little of both...
Me: *cackle*
J: oh, whoops. We're out of Science. Guess we'll have to substitute some History instead.
Me: *guffaw*... oh my god stop. i'm going to have to pee again.

Notes from my Little Black Book.

...So, I'm one of Those People who carry around a mini-Molskine journal and constantly jot in it. Mostly I make lists, but it also where I make note of random encounters with the world and gem-like thoughts. It matters not to me that my gems are more like rhinestones and less like diamonds; I'm going to save them for posterity anyway. And now I'm going to share them with you.

Awesome things seen on or around campus during 1st "week" of school:
-dude riding to class on unicycle.
-dudes flying a plastic Sesame Street kite on The Hill.
-stocky, bearded dude wearing actual revolutionary war-style tricorn hat made out of actual leather, walking down street.

Don't make me choke on my own snark:
- young undergrad dude walking past me, talking on cell phone ON TUESDAY: "... yeah, it's been a long week... thank god we've got a friday coming up soon..."

First World Problem of The Week:
I bought a (semi-costly) new refill for my (fancy, imported from Germany) refillable ball-point pen. The ink in the refill doesn't flow AT ALL. I realize that in the grand scheme of all social injustice everywhere, this is meaningless, but it's an important problem. to me. right now.

Best Conversation Ever:
Me: mmmmm... garlic and bacon sauteed together... it's too bad I missed the bacon train on liking bacon.
Him: huh?
Me: remember? The New Yorker said that bacon isn't the cool food to like any more.
Him: Oh yeah. Bacon totally sucks. Wonder what the next cool food to like is going to be?
Me: I dunno.
Him: Me either.
Me: Maybe little hamburgers?
Him: heh. sliders. yeah, they're kind of everywhere these days.
Me: I'm anti-little hamburger.
Him: ... well, I'm not pro-them.
Me: ... I mean, I wouldn't shiv one if I met it in the dark or anything... I just think they're dumb.
Him: I might eat one.

Also, I didn't hear what Kanye West did to make the world think that he is a dumbass, or to make President Obama say that he (Kanye West, not Obama) is an asshole, but I'm mad at him (Kanye West, not Obama) anyway, because I'm sick of being exposed to the media fallout about How Kanye West may or may not be a dumbass or an asshole.

How I Went To Minnesota....

... it wasn't actually that much of an adventure as far as adventures go, unless you maybe cast it in the light of 'Adventures in Adulthood'.

[Backstory: There was a time when as a naive child, I thought that weddings were made out of the same stuff as fairy tales and golden glitter. Then I became a jaded angry feminist, and while I still believed in the values of love, commitment and partnership, I thought the whole marriage thing was completely over-rated. Then my boyfriend and I decided to get married, and I discovered that the whole wedding industry is kind of a crock and a sham and a Big Giant Rip Off. Now that I'm (still) happily married, I like the legal rights that marriage allows me to have, I like that I publicly committed myself to my husband, and I like that the budget for my wedding was a frugal one; even thought it wasn't the prettiest wedding, it was a lot of fun. I love going to weddings and tearing up as couples commit themselves to each other in rituals that are meaningful to them, but as much as I love being a witness to that, and partaking in the free booze and dancing that generally comes after, I still think that there is probably a lot to be said for eloping, and I think that it is total crap that gay couples don't have equal marriage rights.]

Ahem.

So, it was a whirlwind weekend, because we'd been invited to a wedding here in town and a reception for a wedding that happened in February in Hawaii in Minnesota. That is to say, the reception was held in Minnesota - there is no actual 'Hawaii in Minnesota'.

The first wedding was a blast. I got emotional (surprise!) and may have even allowed myself a few sentimental sniffles. I partook liberally of the viands and edibles. I wore a new pair of fantastic red leather pumps and was a superstar on the dance floor with J. We twirled and whirled and attempted the merengue, we tripped over our own toes a minimal amount of times and had a record low of zero dancefloor disputes about Who is leading and Where are we going and What the hell are you even trying to do and Why are you yelling at me and making me feel like crap and I'm not good at this but I'm trying for you so don't treat me like an idiot and This is easy and Why don't you know how to do it five minutes ago. Which is to say that there was definitely some gold glitter flying through the air. Maybe I was the only person to see it, but that doesn't mean it wasn't there. STOP TRYING TO RUIN MY HAPPY STORY ABOUT BEING HAPPY.

The next morning we woke up early! And then we drove and drove and drove and drove, and then we got to the reception. Which was hosted in someone's home and very lovely and relaxed and laid back. Except for that it was in a really fancy neighborhood! With shrubberies! And limited on-street parking! So we parked our banged-up dusty subaru illicitly in the country club lot and I tried to ignore the niggling worries that Our Car Would Be Towed, and sat and ate and chatted and played with a cute baby and generally beamed at the world because My Friend Got Married And She Is Happy And I Am Happy, Too, (Even If I Didn't Get To Go To Hawaii).

It was good to see my friend again, but sad to only get to see her for a snippet of time. However, the convenient thing about Minnesota is that it is miraculously located Right Next to Wisconsin (where I live), and Much Easier To Visit Than Hawaii, and so if would just commit myself to planning more things in advance, I could see my friends who live there a lot more often. Which is what I vowed to myself to do as we were leaving the reception. Yay!

Then there was an ice-cream meet up with another dear friend from summer camp, and more cute baby holding and beaming.

Then there was a quick dash in to the Mall of America so that I could buy some expensive shampoo.

Then there was a drive down to Northfield from the Twin Cities to visit another friend who just got a tenure track job at a liberal arts college there. There was also a torrential rainstorm, which was very scary.

Northfield is where J and our friend went to undergrad, so we had to order gyro pizza, and I got to listen to much reminiscing and jibing, as our friend got a job at The Other liberal arts college, and not his and J's alma mater. Gyro pizza is not that good, and since I have no school spirit or team spirit whatsoever, I tried to ignore the jibing.

The next day, we woke up late, ate a delicious greasy breakfast of eggs and hashbrowns, hung out with our friend, and hit the road sometime in the early afternoon.

We drove and drove and drove, and during a 4 o'clock coffee stop, I fell in love with the town of LaCrosse Wisconsin.

There was some more driving, some mocking of the "ski resorts" along I-94, some driving, and then we were home! Beer and a Law and Order marathon for everyone!