A Short List of Things That Taste Like Blood
By Helen
1. Sardines
2. Tunafish
3. Root beer
There you go. Now you can give yourself mind benders all night long trying to mentally combine the taste of root beer and sardines.
Mmmm.
Monday, September 28, 2009
Friday, September 25, 2009
Friday Favorites
In honor of Back to Work, a Friday Favorites list about job stuff:
1. My favorite function in Photoshop: the magic eraser. I mean, come on. Even if I didn't know what it did I would love it, just for the name. And there are few things (at my work) quite so satisfying as clicking on annoying ugly spots on my figures and having them just...disappear.
2. Favorite thing about my work climate: they provide free hot chocolate. I mean, at my last work, we had to pay for coffee.
3. Favorite thing about my work location: (and this is remembering that actually I wish desperately that they would move so that I didn't have to drive for an hour every fricking day) I like being so very close to the hogback. It rises up less than a mile away, a flat wide slope of mountain mahogany and rock. I mean, there's an interstate between my work and it, so it's not like I can run over there on my lunch hour, but I can look.
4. Favorite thing about working (besides getting paid): being busy. I mean, sometimes I am too busy, and that sucks. But sometimes, much of the time, I am just the right amount of busy, and I like it. I'd hoped to replicate that during the year I had "off" by making my own concerns a job--but it just wasn't the same.
1. My favorite function in Photoshop: the magic eraser. I mean, come on. Even if I didn't know what it did I would love it, just for the name. And there are few things (at my work) quite so satisfying as clicking on annoying ugly spots on my figures and having them just...disappear.
2. Favorite thing about my work climate: they provide free hot chocolate. I mean, at my last work, we had to pay for coffee.
3. Favorite thing about my work location: (and this is remembering that actually I wish desperately that they would move so that I didn't have to drive for an hour every fricking day) I like being so very close to the hogback. It rises up less than a mile away, a flat wide slope of mountain mahogany and rock. I mean, there's an interstate between my work and it, so it's not like I can run over there on my lunch hour, but I can look.
4. Favorite thing about working (besides getting paid): being busy. I mean, sometimes I am too busy, and that sucks. But sometimes, much of the time, I am just the right amount of busy, and I like it. I'd hoped to replicate that during the year I had "off" by making my own concerns a job--but it just wasn't the same.
Thursday, September 24, 2009
Fall season TV
Whoa, two posts in one day! Hold me back!
So, guys, I tried to watch some comedy pilots on the TV last night, and let me just say, it reminded me STRONGLY of why I no longer really watch TV. And it had nothing to do with what was on the screen.
For instance:
1. First I had to wait until the play was over in the baseball game "everyone" else was watching.
2. Then I had to cover the birds. Didn't work: they still yammered away. Turned up the volume on the TV.
3. Then I had to remind the kids (gently!) that for once I was watching a TV show, so they really needed to please not yell for approximately 27 minutes.
4. Yeah. So I turned up the volume some more.
5. This just made the kids talk louder.
6. Then the phone rang. Alumni fundraising. We let the machine get it.
7. Then there was a joke on the show that Si got so he repeated it several times, laughing.
8. Then Hubs said (perhaps in response to my irritated sigh), "Pause it. Pause it. You can just pause it, you know."
9. Then Costi the dog started making her hungry noises. We feed her, people. For real. Hubs and I both rolled our eyes and said, NO, Costi.
10. Then I had remind Helen again to whisper, please.
11. Then the show ended. I watched approximately ten percent of it. Did I like it? Was it any good? I couldn't really say. Will I watch it again? Probably not. It's not worth it.
And let me point out, here, that overall the odds were in my favor. I had the remote. I was sitting on the couch. Dinner was over. And still I can't cut the time out of the damn day to watch twenty minutes of scripted jokes. Apparently I will return to regular TV watching in 2024, when Helen graduates from high school. It better be good by then, Networks. If you still exist.
So, guys, I tried to watch some comedy pilots on the TV last night, and let me just say, it reminded me STRONGLY of why I no longer really watch TV. And it had nothing to do with what was on the screen.
For instance:
1. First I had to wait until the play was over in the baseball game "everyone" else was watching.
2. Then I had to cover the birds. Didn't work: they still yammered away. Turned up the volume on the TV.
3. Then I had to remind the kids (gently!) that for once I was watching a TV show, so they really needed to please not yell for approximately 27 minutes.
4. Yeah. So I turned up the volume some more.
5. This just made the kids talk louder.
6. Then the phone rang. Alumni fundraising. We let the machine get it.
7. Then there was a joke on the show that Si got so he repeated it several times, laughing.
8. Then Hubs said (perhaps in response to my irritated sigh), "Pause it. Pause it. You can just pause it, you know."
9. Then Costi the dog started making her hungry noises. We feed her, people. For real. Hubs and I both rolled our eyes and said, NO, Costi.
10. Then I had remind Helen again to whisper, please.
11. Then the show ended. I watched approximately ten percent of it. Did I like it? Was it any good? I couldn't really say. Will I watch it again? Probably not. It's not worth it.
And let me point out, here, that overall the odds were in my favor. I had the remote. I was sitting on the couch. Dinner was over. And still I can't cut the time out of the damn day to watch twenty minutes of scripted jokes. Apparently I will return to regular TV watching in 2024, when Helen graduates from high school. It better be good by then, Networks. If you still exist.
Mafia alligator
Yeah, yeah, yeah. I know rewards and encouragement work better than threats to promote good behavior. I'm also tuned in to the magic of maintaining routine and parental good behavior.
There are still some days, though, when I'd like to keep an alligator to help keep the home ship in running order.
"You think that's so funny, huh? Maybe you need to go explain it to the alligator."
There are still some days, though, when I'd like to keep an alligator to help keep the home ship in running order.
"You think that's so funny, huh? Maybe you need to go explain it to the alligator."
Tuesday, September 22, 2009
Running through a sprinkler
Last week, which was my first five-day week working full time in this millenium, practically, I was a little unsure if the whole "working" thing was going to last. Life just felt so unbearably busy, like I was holding my breath and running through a sprinkler every single second of every single goddamn day. I mean, this is my standard morning:
5:20 - alarm goes off. I get up and put on my running clothes in the dark.
5:25 - I stretch and do some push-ups, in the dark. If I'm running late I skip the stretching.
5:40 - I leave the house for a run. Sometimes I'll leave as late as 6. I run two and a half to three miles, with the dog, who's mostly on message but occasionally insists on a sniff stop mid-run. These feel like they take HALF AN HOUR.
6:30 - At the latest. I come in the door, strip off my running stuff, hang the "wear more than one day" items, try to get the rest into the laundry pile instead of on the floor.
6:35 - Shower. Shave legs. Comb hair. My hair takes forever to comb, so sometimes I'll read a magazine (propped on the sink) while I comb.
6:50 - Turn on Si's light, turn off his fan, say "Time to get up, sweetheart! What do you want for breakfast?" Start the water for coffee. Grind the coffee. While the water is boiling, empty the dishwasher. Load the assorted dirty dishes that have gathered since the dishwasher ran last night. Gather up a few lunch/snack items and put them in my lunch bag. When the water boils, pour it into the coffee maker. We do French press coffee, BTW. Best coffee ever.
7:02 - Return to Si's room, pull the blanket off him, get him some clean clothes to change into, say, "The bus will be here in fifteen minutes! You really need to get up now!"
7:05 - Return to kitchen and cut up a peach for Si's breakfast. Pour him some milk. Pour myself some OJ and take a vitamin. Pour out my cereal. If Si's made it to the table on his own steam, I'll start eating. If not, I go and tell him the bus will be here in ten minutes, or whatever lie I need to tell him to get him the hell out of bed. I try to read while I eat and usually make it through about one paragraph.
7:19 - Notice the time and panic. Tell Si he needs to be walking out the door this second. Go find his shoes for him and put them on his feet. Ask him if he has his homework. Remind him to brush his teeth. End up getting the toothbrush pasted and wetted for his majesty and bring it to him for his brushing pleasure. Answer complicated questions regarding plaque build-up. Tell much-told horror story involving root canals at age 25 and add "THIS is why you need to brush your teeth!" Open door and practically push Si out of it. Feel grateful he will take the bus this year. Check to make sure he gets to the bus on time.
7:27 - Turn on Helen's light, open her blinds, kiss her cheek and say, "It's time to get up, sweetheart! What do you want for breakfast?" Endure some nonverbal glaring abuse and/ or a brilliant smile. Turn off the light when she screams "I can't see!" but remind her it's time to get up anyway. Explain physics of eye adjustment. Ask if she wants cereal or toast.
7:31 - Feed the dog, who is barking with impatience.
7:32 - Put together Helen's breakfast.
7:40 - Uncover the birds and roll up the covers. Feed the cursed things. Change their water.
7:41 - Finally, finally, finally pour out some coffee. Drink while I assemble the rest of my lunch. Go carry Helen from her bed to the couch. Ask if she's ready for milk in her cereal yet. Remind her that I want to leave very soon.
7:50 - Wish I were leaving this second. While Helen eats her breakfast, and Hubs comes in and starts pouring out his own cereal, pull out three outfits for her to choose between. Also brush my own teeth.
8:00 - While Helen gets her clothes on, paste and wet her toothbrush. Also get the comb and comb her hair while she complains that she wanted to brush her teeth first. Load my things into the car. Put the Netflix movie out for pickup. Pee one last time.
8:03 - Tighten Helen's shoes, as per her request. Hurry her out the door to the car. Kiss Hubs goodbye.
God, right? Minus the run and the showering, this was pretty much what I did last year, when I wasn't working, only it always felt like there was a little more slack. Evenings and weekends are more or less the same; however, I DID notice that this week feels a little less pell-mell. Am I adjusting? Or is it because Hubs actually got up early, too, and helped at least with the reminding and the putting the children out of the door? Or is it because we spent the weekend at home, instead of up in the mountains? Probably all of the above. I'm rooting for number one, though. It's all about adjustment.
5:20 - alarm goes off. I get up and put on my running clothes in the dark.
5:25 - I stretch and do some push-ups, in the dark. If I'm running late I skip the stretching.
5:40 - I leave the house for a run. Sometimes I'll leave as late as 6. I run two and a half to three miles, with the dog, who's mostly on message but occasionally insists on a sniff stop mid-run. These feel like they take HALF AN HOUR.
6:30 - At the latest. I come in the door, strip off my running stuff, hang the "wear more than one day" items, try to get the rest into the laundry pile instead of on the floor.
6:35 - Shower. Shave legs. Comb hair. My hair takes forever to comb, so sometimes I'll read a magazine (propped on the sink) while I comb.
6:50 - Turn on Si's light, turn off his fan, say "Time to get up, sweetheart! What do you want for breakfast?" Start the water for coffee. Grind the coffee. While the water is boiling, empty the dishwasher. Load the assorted dirty dishes that have gathered since the dishwasher ran last night. Gather up a few lunch/snack items and put them in my lunch bag. When the water boils, pour it into the coffee maker. We do French press coffee, BTW. Best coffee ever.
7:02 - Return to Si's room, pull the blanket off him, get him some clean clothes to change into, say, "The bus will be here in fifteen minutes! You really need to get up now!"
7:05 - Return to kitchen and cut up a peach for Si's breakfast. Pour him some milk. Pour myself some OJ and take a vitamin. Pour out my cereal. If Si's made it to the table on his own steam, I'll start eating. If not, I go and tell him the bus will be here in ten minutes, or whatever lie I need to tell him to get him the hell out of bed. I try to read while I eat and usually make it through about one paragraph.
7:19 - Notice the time and panic. Tell Si he needs to be walking out the door this second. Go find his shoes for him and put them on his feet. Ask him if he has his homework. Remind him to brush his teeth. End up getting the toothbrush pasted and wetted for his majesty and bring it to him for his brushing pleasure. Answer complicated questions regarding plaque build-up. Tell much-told horror story involving root canals at age 25 and add "THIS is why you need to brush your teeth!" Open door and practically push Si out of it. Feel grateful he will take the bus this year. Check to make sure he gets to the bus on time.
7:27 - Turn on Helen's light, open her blinds, kiss her cheek and say, "It's time to get up, sweetheart! What do you want for breakfast?" Endure some nonverbal glaring abuse and/ or a brilliant smile. Turn off the light when she screams "I can't see!" but remind her it's time to get up anyway. Explain physics of eye adjustment. Ask if she wants cereal or toast.
7:31 - Feed the dog, who is barking with impatience.
7:32 - Put together Helen's breakfast.
7:40 - Uncover the birds and roll up the covers. Feed the cursed things. Change their water.
7:41 - Finally, finally, finally pour out some coffee. Drink while I assemble the rest of my lunch. Go carry Helen from her bed to the couch. Ask if she's ready for milk in her cereal yet. Remind her that I want to leave very soon.
7:50 - Wish I were leaving this second. While Helen eats her breakfast, and Hubs comes in and starts pouring out his own cereal, pull out three outfits for her to choose between. Also brush my own teeth.
8:00 - While Helen gets her clothes on, paste and wet her toothbrush. Also get the comb and comb her hair while she complains that she wanted to brush her teeth first. Load my things into the car. Put the Netflix movie out for pickup. Pee one last time.
8:03 - Tighten Helen's shoes, as per her request. Hurry her out the door to the car. Kiss Hubs goodbye.
God, right? Minus the run and the showering, this was pretty much what I did last year, when I wasn't working, only it always felt like there was a little more slack. Evenings and weekends are more or less the same; however, I DID notice that this week feels a little less pell-mell. Am I adjusting? Or is it because Hubs actually got up early, too, and helped at least with the reminding and the putting the children out of the door? Or is it because we spent the weekend at home, instead of up in the mountains? Probably all of the above. I'm rooting for number one, though. It's all about adjustment.
Monday, September 21, 2009
Wait, Is This a Post About the Weather?!?
Well, yes. I happen to love weather and could happily talk about it all day long. I'll try to keep it short.
Because what I love most is weather like we're having today: misty- rainy, with occasional lapses into sleet. Sporadically the clouds lift long enough for me to get up from my desk and walk around the block. Weather like this makes me happy to be in an office, happy for once to have an indoors job, happy to have a job that makes me drive almost up to the foothills, so that when I do walk around the block I can catch glimpses of the snow-covered hills hiding behind the hogback. Standing on pavement in the rain and looking up at hillsides that are white with snow makes me feel like I'm gifted with second sight and can see into alternate worlds. That, up there, is the world I wish we'd moved to; this, down here, is the world where we actually live.
So. Happy last day of summer!
Edited to add: the sky just turned green and then it started to hail. All over the building, I can hear little exclamations of surprise and dismay.
And some people think weather is boring!
Because what I love most is weather like we're having today: misty- rainy, with occasional lapses into sleet. Sporadically the clouds lift long enough for me to get up from my desk and walk around the block. Weather like this makes me happy to be in an office, happy for once to have an indoors job, happy to have a job that makes me drive almost up to the foothills, so that when I do walk around the block I can catch glimpses of the snow-covered hills hiding behind the hogback. Standing on pavement in the rain and looking up at hillsides that are white with snow makes me feel like I'm gifted with second sight and can see into alternate worlds. That, up there, is the world I wish we'd moved to; this, down here, is the world where we actually live.
So. Happy last day of summer!
Edited to add: the sky just turned green and then it started to hail. All over the building, I can hear little exclamations of surprise and dismay.
And some people think weather is boring!
Friday, September 18, 2009
Friday Favorites
Since I got up at five-thirty a.m. and went on a run every single day this week (go me! even if some of the runs were more like "very aerobic walks" and also very short) (also, this schedule might be contributing to my feeling that there is not a single second in the day when I can just relax, dammit), another running-themed Friday favorites.
My top five favorite things about running:
1. Except for the shoes (and the clothes, if you want to get fancy), it's free.
2. It doubles as exploration. I LOVE scouting out new neighborhoods, checking up on peoples' gardens, and exploring new trails while I'm out supposedly exercising.
3. It gets me outside.
4. I can do it almost anywhere, in any weather. I've run in sixteen states, four countries, and three continents; I've run in snow, rain, sleet, and in 100-degree weather and below-zero weather (the latter is MUCH MORE PLEASANT).
5. It gives me great calves.
My top five favorite things about running:
1. Except for the shoes (and the clothes, if you want to get fancy), it's free.
2. It doubles as exploration. I LOVE scouting out new neighborhoods, checking up on peoples' gardens, and exploring new trails while I'm out supposedly exercising.
3. It gets me outside.
4. I can do it almost anywhere, in any weather. I've run in sixteen states, four countries, and three continents; I've run in snow, rain, sleet, and in 100-degree weather and below-zero weather (the latter is MUCH MORE PLEASANT).
5. It gives me great calves.
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