Wednesday, December 19, 2007

Getting Better

Remember the Beatles' song 'Getting Better' from Sgt. Pepper?
After McCartney's bouncy "It's getting better all the time!" an acerbic Lennon intones "Can't get no worse..." I've always thought that one snippet of song sums up the Lennon-McCartney duality perfectly.

It also sums up my optimism vs. the harsh reality of trying to find the right partner. My Saturday night date and I were about as compatible as peas and Hershey's syrup.

While we did manage two hours or so of reasonably interesting conversation he had no sense of humor whatsoever. Not only was he incapable of producing humor, he was incapable of understanding it.

Follow me, if you will: The setting is a downtown Seattle Indian restaurant (which I had to select because Captain Lameass couldn't generate a single idea). The characters: An earnest, witty, reasonably cute middle-aged blonde woman and a dull, graying, retired journalist. Make that a dull, graying, retired journalist with long-nailed, tiny baby hands (yes,I'm shuddering too). The dialogue:

Me: I went to an Indian restaurant once and my friend asked the waitress why there were no beef dishes on the menu. The waitress said "Holy cow!"

Ok, you get that right? Of course you do. Cows are sacred in India...

Him: Moronic blank stare.

Me: (glancing at watch) "Ok! Ha ha..."

I asked him if he'd like to try my entree. He ate half of it, and didn't ask me if I'd like to try his (I don't eat lamb but that's not the point...). Then when the check came I politely offered to pay half. Most men act mildly insulted when I offer. He said "I would LOVE that."

Ugh.

I had taken the bus from Tacoma, and told C.L. (Captain Lameass, lest you've forgotten) that I needed to find Cherry St. to catch the bus home. To his credit he drove me the three blocks to the bus stop. As we approached Cherry Street he said he wasn't in a hurry... just then a bus approached the stop. I flung open the car door. "OHLOOKTHERESMYBUSTHANKSBYE". I ran across the street like a 19 year old Olympic athlete. Had I been required to jump hurdles I could and would have.

It can only get better. It can't get much worse.

Friday, December 14, 2007

Semiahmoo


The body of water in the foreground is Boundary Bay. In the middle is the spit that leads to The Inn at Semiahmoo. To the left is Puget Sound and White Rock, British Columbia.

If you look carefully you can see an extremely adorable beagle in the foreground who just so happens to be Ms. Brandy Joy Gilson.

One of the reasons I adore the Northwest.

Tuesday, December 11, 2007

The Pyramids, Man Walking on the Moon...

My going two entire days without a diet coke...

I realized I was seriously addicted. To what you ask, fizz? Caffeine? Well, maybe. But I think the real answer is aspartame. I'm hoping that giving it up will help reduce my sugar cravings.

Losing weight is very important to me right now. Some men still think I am attractive or even beautiful at this weight, but the date I had on Sunday looked at me otherwise. I liked him, so it hurt. He seemed to enjoy talking with me enough to linger two and a half hours over lunch, but at the end of the date he gave me a quick hug and said "Well, that was a nice way to spend an afternoon."

Indeed.

I went home and screamed and threw things. Actually I just sat in front of my computer and finished a school project, because what else can one do?

The fact that I thought my hair looked too gold and so had it dyed a color I can only describe as taupe probably didn't help. I have another hair appointment tomorrow.

Yes, I know. He wasn't right for me, it's not meant to be, blah, blah. I wasn't looking to marry him. I just would like the chance to get to know him better. Maybe in a month, after I've lost ten pounds and no longer have taupe hair I'll call him.

And yes, of course, I will continue to get out and meet others.

Tuesday, December 04, 2007

Tromso, Norway

I had my review at work today. My very, very performance-based review. I'm happy to announce that I can officially perform.

Although my raise hardly catapults me into Lexus or first class territory, it is substantial enough for me to consider a well-planned, budget-conscious indulgence.

I want to go to Tromso, Norway. No, let's make that Tromsø. I love Scandinavian letters with dots over them or lines through them.

Although my time in Sweden was in ways far from idyllic, Scandinavian seeped into my soul like it had been waiting for me all my life. I'm not finished with it.

Tromso, Norway is the world's northern-most college town. There's lots of culture, friendly taverns, an intellectual atmosphere, extreme climate, northen lights, 6'5 blonde Norweigan men and maybe even the occassional polar bear. What's not to like? In my fantasy I travel there alone and encounter all of the aforementioned (except maybe the polar bear). If I could experience the northern lights in the arms of a rugged, intellectual viking (hey, it's my fantasy...)I would feel more alive in five minutes than I have in the past decade. I might even settle for a repressive Swede who sends me home before New Year's...nah. Let's start over.

After my viking and I experience the spirtual magic of the other-worldly chromatic wonder, we trudge through the snow in 10 degree weather (Tuscany's all yours), the gale-force winds blowing back our hair. What I see next is a contemporary yet elemental Scandinavian dwelling, featuring a roaring fireplace and nothing else I am going to share with you.

Chances of any of this happening? 5% at best. But it's nice to know that at least the funding for far-fetched fantasies is somewhat within my reach.

http://home.online.no/~bennett/Tromsoe.htm

Saturday, December 01, 2007

Only you know for sure

I can't decide if this is charming or disgusting. Click on all the destinations for the full effect:

http://downloads.raileurope.com/holidayCard/06_christmas_card.html

Weather Report

I got to work about half an hour ago. It was cold and bit cloudy. Now it's snowing. I am, as always, thankful that I live only a mile from work. Walking home uphill in the snow will be kind of fun.

Friday, November 30, 2007

48

It's been a decent birthday. A group of friends from work took me to the Old Spaghetti Factory for lunch on Thursday. Gooey birthday dessert with a candle, singing waitstaff performing a blissfully short and cheerfully moronic 'Happy Birthday' song, etc. We had fun. I take birthday wishes seriously and was happy to have a candle to blow out.

I had another chance for wishmaking today when, on our company party Argosy cruise, I was called to the stage for 60 or so people to sing happy birthday to me. The regional director's ( a woman for whom we have, shall we say, mixed feelings) birthday is this Sunday. While everyone was singing Happy Birthday to me, I wished her a happy birthday as well. She must be serious about wishmaking too, because she blew out the candle on my cake. I walked back to my table with the slice of cake and announced what had happened and everyone thought it was a hoot. Tina summed it up well "That is so typical of her! It's like she was saying 'We're done with your birthday thing- Whuff!- go back to your table" Christy pulled a lighter from her purse, rekindled my birthday candle, and I got to make my wish. Thank you.

From this picture, you might imagine that my birthday wish was to lose weight:



That's not a wish, it's a plan. I simply have to face the fact that sugar is to me what vodka is to an alcoholic. Hi Wendy, welcome.

Here are some other pictures from the cruise, which was wonderful. It was a clear but cold and windy day. I was the only person on the boat to (briefly) venture onto the deck. It was blustery indeed. It was far more pleasant to enjoy the tour of Elliott Bay from inside the cabin.




Tuesday, November 27, 2007

Oregon, Washington, Arizona, Whatever...

I finally got my Washington driver's license, three days before my Oregon license was due to expire. I haven't lived in Oregon since March of 2004. Yes, I should have gotten a Washington license when I moved to Seattle in March of 2004, and yes, I should have gotten an Arizona license when I moved to Phoenix in March of 2006 (I always move in March...it's weird) but the important thing is I now have a state-appropriate license.

This means I'll probably move to Tennessee next month. No, actually, March. It's always March.

Monday, November 26, 2007

We're Easily Amused

"This student's last name is Nibblet" I casually commented.

Shrieking laughter from the cube behind me. Shrieking laughter from me. With tears streaming down our faces and gasping for breath we pondered if her father was the Jolly Green Giant. "What if....what if... she one day became president...Hail to the Chief would be played for (wiping tears away) President Nibblet."

Like I said we're easily amused. Be happy for us.

Tuesday, November 20, 2007

The Aroma of Tacoma

If you had asked me ten years ago to tell you what Tacoma was like, I would have told you (even thought I'd never been there at the time) that it was a crime-ridden city that smelled like paper mills. I've been told that ten years ago that was somewhat true. Tacoma has since gentrified into a (mostly) lovely little oasis of sparkling fountains, funky coffee shops, and nice walking trails. Granted, the view from my 14th story window reveals industrial smokestacks, belching out vast quantities 24 hours a day. But the famous 'Aroma of Tacoma'? Nonexist. Until today. I stepped outside and it smelled like sauerkraut.

Let's hope this kraut thing does not start to occur on a regular basis or I'll be transported back in space and time to Pumpernicks in Miami. Pumpernicks, an authentic Jewish deli (no ham) always had gleaming metal buckets of sauerkraut on each table. They also had a gleaming metal bucket of these truly frightning baseball-sized pickled green tomatoes, but I covered weird food in my last post so I'll leave it at that.

I'm in the computer lab at work (instead of at my desk) ADD at full throttle. I simply can't concentrate on work right now. Thanksgiving vacation is coming not a moment too soon.

Sunday, October 28, 2007

The Future of American Education

I don't feel like writing about my personal life.

Ok, well, here:

Satisfaction with work: Dwindling
Relationship with police sargeant: Over
Dieting: Unsuccessful
Last book read: Peyton Place

For filler and / or possible interest, here is my response to a discussion question on future trends in education for my 'Standards in Education' Class:

The future of standards-based curriculum and instruction will be partially determined by future trends and events in our society. If our schools grow more violent, an increasing number of parents may choose to home school their children, and / or have them attend school online. More students may start attending private schools. With shifting dynamics like this in place, it will be difficult to enforce standards.

Within public schools, standards will continue to adhere to what the market will bear, so to speak. College-bound students will likely invest extra time in supplemental education and or preparation classes in order to pass graduation exams. Ambitious students have always done this to pass college entrance exams like the SAT. Having to pass graduation exams will put extra pressue on them.

It is not likely that standardized testing will go away. It may become more culturally sensitive since it is under fire for not being so. I suspect that more schools will offer alternatives to passing scores on graduation exams. This may lead to the sort of stratification schools had before the 1960s or so, in which there was a distinction between students who were 'vocational' and students who were 'college prep'.

Hopefully schools across the country will focus on each others' best practices. It's not going to be easy to find the right balance between setting high expectations and making unrealistic demands.

Tuesday, October 23, 2007

*&#%!

I received word today that one of my students died. He was a new student and hadn't posted into his online classes in over a week. I'd left him several messages and knew something was wrong when he didn't return them; he and I'd had a great rapport when he came in for his initial appointment.

His father called the main number today and it was reported to me that Scott had died. I don't remember exactly how old he was, but he was under 30. He had some physical deformities and had told me of kidney problems but I figured he'd still get to live out his life. He was a positive person, with a lot of goals for himself. He had a great sense of humor and was one of those people who I'm sure was liked by everyone who knew him. I'm sorry if it seems morbid to be writing about this, but he was a neat guy and I just want to pay him tribute.

In more upbeat news, I am deciding on a Halloween costume. What I really want to be is an angel. Yes, that's right. Don't laugh. However, I just started dating a police sargeant, so I had the idea of going as one of the women you see on the TV show 'Cops' (if you happen to watch it. I watch it about as often as I thumb through the National Enquirer in the grocery store line, which is to say every now and then if I am really bored). I'd wear a stained tank top with a thick white bra strap hanging out. I'd get a fake tattoo on my upper arm and mess my hair up. I'd complete the look with sweat pants from WalMart and a touch of garish makeup.

But no, I'd rather be an angel. So an angel I shall be. That is if the Halloween Superstore isn't sold out of angel costumes by the time I finally manage to get down there.

Thursday, October 18, 2007

Platinum Blonde

Two days before my 40th birthday I dyed my hair bright red. I lived in Portland at the time, and flew to Denver for a lovely party my friend Martha was hosting for me. I hadn't seen my Denver friends for almost a year. You know how when you make a major change in your appearance, it's the first thing people comment on when they see you? You know how they ooh and aah and fuss over you? That's only if it looks good. No one said anything. Not a word. Finally, I turned to one of my friends and graciously implored "Would you please say something about my *ucking hair??!" The best she could manage was "Oh...well, I guess I just need to get used to it."

Ok then, no more bright red.

Let's try copper. Let's try copper and wear a mauve twin set while on major network TV (a Portland station was running a feature story on the singles group I'd started). Copper and mauve. Very, very bad idea. Even without the mauve.
Next.

Ok, maybe something a little closer to home is the key. Blonde. But golden
blonde. And new makeup to go with it! I don't fully trust the Clinque salesgirl's choice of bright coral, but hey! I'm sure it looks better than I think! I just have to get used to it! That night I was cohosting an event with little southern belle Patsy (see the Ted Nugent Style of Home Decorating post). She took one look at me and a look of great distress came over her face. The kind of great distress expression most people reserve for seeing someone who's just been shot. "Windy" she hissed "That is the wrong shade of lipstick on yew. Yew go take that off raht now."
Do you think I said "Thank you very much for the excellent suggestion Patsy. I'll go do that right away." If you guessed 'Yes' you don't know me very well. After a few choice words the orangey smear on my lips stayed on. It was, however, never reapplied.

Actually with a few adjustments the golden blonde wasn't that bad. Light brown was pretty nice too. Dark brown? Won't be going back to that anytime soon.

For the past few years I've stuck with the tried and true- highlights. In Sweden I decided my hair needed some perking up, so I bought a highlighting kit. Thankfully the directions were not just in Swedish. They were also in German. Oh well, I've done my own highlights before, no problem. And yes, they came out well. A lighter blonde than I'd ever had but it looked good. Did Peter notice? No. Did he notice my zig-zag bangs the time I'd trimmed them with toenail clippers? (I was stuck in a minimally stocked cabin in Ugglarp, Sweden. What else was I supposed to use? A knife?) Yes.

My point of this whole bimbo-esque post? At 1:30 this afternoon I announced to my mananger that I was taking two hours off to have my hair done. "Investing in my professional image" I supplied. I went to the salon across the street and told the stylist I wanted cool blonde highlights. Really light. Platinum. And that's what I got.

When I got back to work, my whole team was in a meeting in the room next door. I walked in, planning to scurry to the nearest available seat when a very loud collective "Whooooo!" of admiration went up from the group, followed by an equally loud round of applause and lots of "Wow, it looks great!" type compliments. Never one to accept a compliment graciously I blurted out " I think I look like Edgar Winter!". Only about four people on my team are old enough to remember the albino leader of the Edgar Winter band, but never mind. When questioned why I didn't like it, I said I need to get used to it. I think I'm liking it though.

Within a few weeks I'll post a picture. I'm dieting. God help me.

Will this insipid post ever end?

Yes.

Friday, October 12, 2007

Sweden

I left for Sweden on October 13th, 2005. I wonder if 20 years from now October 13th will still be a significant date for me. Logic would dictate that it shouldn't be, but I've never been particularly logical.

For whatever reasons my memories of Sweden are very deeply etched.

In a weak moment around mid September, I called Peter. He is finally divorced, but big deal. He is distant in more ways than one. Yes, he was friendly but...whatever. Except for that one weak moment I've moved on.

Sunday, October 07, 2007

Jacksonville, NC

As mentioned, my family gathered in Jacksonville, NC last weekend to see my nephew Jeff since he will be deploying soon for Iraq. We got to see Jeff and Taylor's house in Sneads Ferry, which is about half an hour from Camp Lejeune in Jacksonville. When I stopped to ask for directions to Peru road (pronouncing it like the country), I was told -in an 'you idiot' tone of voice - that it's PEE-roo road. Ok then. This is not to say that the area is redneck. It's actually much nicer than I thought. From what we saw of the base, it didn't look much different from an ordinary suburb. The foliage and beaches in the area are beautiful. The picture below is of Jeff. I won't go into the 'not only is he handsome, he's brilliant and has the kindest heart and is a wonderful person' thing again. Oops, I just did.

One of the highlights of the trip was getting to meet Jeff and Taylor's beloved dogs Brooklyn and Sierra. They are very bonded with the dogs, and the dogs are very bonded with each other. They like to walk together with both of their mouths on the same toy or frisbee. Sometimes they wrestle over toys like two wolf puppies.The picture below is of Sierra.

Here's Sierra doing what Jeff and Taylor call the bone parade. She picks a bone off the floor and walks across the back of the couch five or six times in a row. Then she walks across the laps of whoever happens to be on the couch, in this case Mom and Dad.

Doing the aforementioned sharing the toy thing.

Mom, Jeff, doggies, and my ridiculously skinny sister Jill at the beach.

Being used to Oregon coast beaches in recent years it was amazing to wade in bathtub-warm water.

We went to a wonderful restaurant on Saturday night with a great view of the beach. The reception for the wedding party below (totally unrelated to us) ended up being in an adjacent room.

Tuesday, October 02, 2007

Performance Review

I had my first performance review today with my new manager. His assessment: "You're doing a fantastic job. I wish I could clone you ten times." Thanks. I like you too.

This is turning out to be a good job for me. I have a lot of fun with my coworkers and I enjoy working with students. I'm also surprised to find out how competitive I am. I'm expected to enroll four students a month. I already have seven for October.
Another comment from my manager was that everyone on my team admires me and looks at me as "the person who can get everything done."

In other news I am completely and utterly sick of school. With as hard as I'm working (I tend to work several hours of overtime a week) I just don't have the energy when I get home to do schoolwork. I'll muddle through these remaining three classes, but I'll be very happy when I'm done.

I spent this past weekend in Jacksonville, NC. My nephew is a 2nd lieutenant in the Marines and will be spending the next year in Iraq. In a short period of time he has become fluent in Arabic. He's amazinginly smart, and well, wonderful in every way. It was just about a perfect family gathering. I'll post pictures later this week.

Friday, September 21, 2007

eHarm

eHarmony has a new feature that lets you see your matches without having to pay first. I am grateful for this since, ever the optimist, I considered renewing my membership after three months of perfectly ridiculous and inappropriate matches. After the latest batch they emailed to me- "Mike is a 5'6, 58 year old meatcutter from Horsefart, Idaho. He says the three most important things to him in life are his Christian faith, his seven children, and his collection of George Strait memorabilia" - I am going to look elsewhere.

Besides, any site endorsed by a bloated megalomaniac like Dr.Phil is bound to be frightning.

Sunday, September 09, 2007

More Pictures From My Neighborhood

The back of my apartment building (I'm two floors from the top, 2nd window from the left)
Stadium High School. I think this may be one of the coolest-looking high schools in the country. The school is situated right at the point where Commencement Bay meets Puget Sound. In random news...
On Friday one of my student said "It's supposed to be beautiful next week" Being woefully out of sync with the rest of the world I pictured cool and cloudy. Turns out it's going to be in the 80s. Yuck. The only time I don't enjoy the mile walk to and from work is when its hot out. Rain doesn't phase me at all. I love walking in the rain. This baffles my coworkers who don't understand why I don't drive on rainy days. First of all I think it's absurd to drive when it's only a mile. Again, I'm out of sync with the average American who would probably drive to an office two blocks away. While I'm on my high horse, posturing not only as the queen of health and fitness but also as an environmentalist, please use half the recommended amount of laundry detergent. That's all you need- really.
I have a new manager at work. I was really sad to see my old one go since I really liked him. The new one is a Red Bull-guzzling Mormon (hello?? Actually I have to admit I think it's kind of cool that he's not bound by dogma) who offered to keep the office refrigerator stocked with said legal narcotic because he wants us to be "high energy all day, every day". He's an aggressive, corporate-climbing, former football player with a bone-pulverizing handshake. I'm working on liking him.
I'm going to Jacksonville, NC at the end of the month to visit my nephew who will be spending the next year in Iraq.
I want to make an overnight trip to the Oregon coast sometime in the next month or two. I can't think of any place I love more. Of all the places I've lived in or visited, the only one I don't miss is Denver. I hate Denver. There are only two things I miss about that area and that's Boulder and Red Rocks Ampitheater. Even though Boulder is only 35 miles from Denver it always felt like a different world to me. South Florida will always be part of my soul, but I can't really imagine living there now. And while I would never want to live in Phoenix again, I do have a few good memories of my time there. I may actually go back at some point to visit Dave. One place I really want to visit again is western North Carolina. My grandparents used to have a vacation home in Deep Gap, and I went to Camp Yonahlossee in Blowing Rock for several summers. I haven't been back since 1976. I especially want to visit Asheville which has morphed into the sort of weird, new-agey kind of town I love. I'd love to visit there in the Fall. The Blue Ridge mountains at that time of year are gorgeous.
I've worked for my current company for a year and a half as of September 6th. I haven't talked to Peter in five months.






Tuesday, September 04, 2007

Filler Post

Too busy to post past week or so. Finishing a class this week; will have more time after that (although I start a new one the very next day). Went to the Muckleshoot casino Saturday night with a couple of friends from work. I spent $20 on gambling and had a club soda with lime. Woo. I'm a party animal.

The casino was fun in that in had good live bands and a nice atmopshere in general, but I can't stand breathing air that's polluted with cigarette smoke. I'm starting to scare myself with what a militant anti-smoker I am becoming. It amazes me when I see young people smoking. Do they say to themselves "I want to spend a thousand dollars a year on a habit that will make me smell disgusting, render me repuslive to the opposite sex, and quite possibly kill me? Great idea, I think I'll start smoking!" Yes, I know. I was a smoker off and on in college. But that was when you could still smoke in restaurants and I think even on planes. There just seems to be an even clearer message now that smoking is so toxic and disgusting that if you must engage in your filthy habit please do so at least ten yards from any public building. I doubt that casinos will ever be completely smoke free- although though I do give Muckleshoot credit for having a smaller, completely non-smoking facility across the parking lot (but that's not where the band and all the fun stuff was).

Wednesday, August 29, 2007

Cube Culture

I'm moving up in the world. I now have a .....drumroll..... window cube. I feel a little bit less like I work in a dressing room. It's not a spectacular view, but it's a taller window than this picture shows, so I can see a lot of sky.
Some people deal in interesting ways with the lack of privacy in a cube farm. This coworker affords herself some privacy with this crepe paper 'door'.
I hate the 'Rah rah, let's gather in a circle and sing the Tupperware song' type of soy filler enthusiasm some corporate higher ups try to shove down your throat, but this is cute.

Sunday, August 26, 2007

This Weekend

I went to Semiahmoo for the weekend to visit my parents and my precious puppy. Brandy went to the groomer a few days ago and was especially beautiful and silky. Last Thursday was my parents' 53rd anniversary. They are doing great. It is really inspiring to see a couple love each other so much after so many years. My dad is still a walking encyclopedia and my mom is still beautiful. Regarding the picture below, Brandy was not being very cooperative in my efforts to get a picture of my mom and Brandy together. This is the only one where Brandy isn't a blur from moving around.

Thursday, August 23, 2007

Wednesday, August 15, 2007

Peazza

Tonight there was a special thing at work where we all had to stay until 8 pm. My manager offered to order pizza for everyone and asked for requests. As is more typical than not, the men all wanted fatty meat toppings (pepperoni and sausage). My manager enthusiastically concurred. Another woman and I called out that we'd prefer veggie pizza. My manager's response: "Veggie pizza? What's that? Does it have peas and carrots and corn on it or something?"

I think he was kidding.

Sunday, August 12, 2007

Recommended Reading

The Glass Castle by Jeannette Walls.

Every time I finish a book I love, I want there to be a movie of it. I got lucky in that regard with Jennifer Weiner's In Her Shoes. I saw it in Sweden where it was titled i Hennes Skor, and I loved it. The movie adaptation of Rebecca Well's Divine Secrets of the Ya Ya Sisterhood was decent, but seemed to be a patchwork of promienent scenes from the book hastily cobbled together to placate the rabid fans. I've waited ten years for the film version of Wally Lamb's She's Come Undone, but if it hasn't happened by now, I doubt it's forthcoming.

Harry Potter? Who's he?

For some reason, although I love a lot of classic science fiction, I have little to no interest in Harry Potter or Lord of the Rings. Yeah, I know. I can hear all of you: "OH MY GOD! Are you kidding?? You don't know what you're missing!!!" Maybe one day I'll make an attempt, but for now all I can say is I'm too busy reading a wide assortment of other genres.

I hear the "You don't know what you're missing" thing a lot about seafood, all of which I hate except for canned albacore tuna (with lots of mayo). All I can say is lobster and crab activate a deep sense of primal dread in me, and I think they taste like poison. I was once at an art museum opening, a lovely catered event, when a friend suggested I try one of the cheese puffs. Cheese puffs. Yum. Sign me up. I bit into it and a second later wondered how I was going to manage to politely chew and swallow it in a ladylike manner. I managed to do so but then asked, in deep, earnest chagrin how my friend could "Do that to me". He shrugged and said sorry, he didn't know it was crab. Ugh! .

In other not-related-to-this-post's-title news, a friend of mine from Portland was in Tacoma this weekend. He used to lead the monthly hikes I coordinated for my singles group. Brad's a cool guy, very intellectual and creative, always excited about something new that he's doing. Right now he's into TV and video production. We walked Tacoma's waterfront on Ruston Way this morning, talking a mile a minute. Ruston Way is a gorgeous walk. I only live a few miles from it and am hereby vowing to myself to get there more often.

Wednesday, August 08, 2007

An Accidental Sort of Bio

In 1983, when photography was my primary passion, I had a lapse in judgement and showed my latest series of photos (which had earned high acclaim from my photography instructor) to a family member whose name starts with, um, Jill.

1983 was my first living-in-Phoenix experience. At the time there was an outdoor trampoline center called 'Jump'. I was new in town, and taking photography classes at ASU with the intention of entering the MFA program. For those keeping score, I ended up going home to Miami the next year instead, and working in a photography studio. Anyway, I was driving down Scottsdale Road when suddenly I saw flying humans. Suspended in the air, then gone. I knew I had found a place of great visual opportunity.

I spent a lot of time at Jump. I emerged a few weeks later with a unique portfolio of photos. Some of the photos captured the pure lines of the human form. Others captured graceful dance-like movements. Some were downright silly, in an unabashed, giddy way. My favorites though were the ones that represented a metaphor for spiritual levity. In one such photo, the one on which my sister commented, the subject is a young girl, about 11 years old. She has escaped earth's bounds and is blissfully ascending, arms akimbo, her innocent face enraptured and angelic. Behind her is only the cobalt blue of the desert sky. My sister studied the photo for two seconds, maybe three. Her comment, delivered in an impatient tone: "Ok, who's she?"

The purpose of this post is not to make fun of my sister or to hurt her feelings. I seriously doubt she reads my blog anyway. My point is that that experience, and a few others, taught me that not everyone will always 'get' what you are trying to express. People are wired differently. Some people would rather see exactingly-executed photographs of churches, and that's fine. It's really cool though when people do 'get' you. I have a friend with whom I share my stories (I write stories. I'm pretty serious about them). He is brilliant, a Berkeley-educated lawyer, and a great writer. I sent him my first story with trepidation. Long story short -no pun intended - his unbridled enthusiasm has given me a glimmer of hope that I possess some talent.

I had no idea this post was going to take this direction. I meant to write just one paragraph as a sort of disclaimer against the weirdness of the photos I was about to post. Now that I'm here though, I just want to take a moment to thank the people in my life who do 'get' me. I hope I am similarly able to express to my friends and family the unique qualities I appreciate about them.

Ok, this is getting kind of gross.

Next post: Weird photos.

Tuesday, August 07, 2007

Light at the end of the tunnel

You all are probably thinking "Nooooooo! Not more fiber optic images!"

I am granting you a brief reprieve.

The light at the end of the tunnel refers to the completion of my master's degree in Education. I'll be done on January 14th, 2008.

Monday, August 06, 2007

Friday, August 03, 2007

Fire Drill

The fire alarm in my building has sounded three times in the past two days. Each time I've had to walk down 14 flights of stairs. One time isn't that big a deal, but three times is annoying.

It's tempting to ignore a fire alarm after the first one's a dud. Except of course you start wondering to yourself if you're going to look like something out of the Pompeii museum if you don't get out of there.

My guess is that the alarm is being pulled by an angry resident. There are a lot of angry residents in this building due to the snotty attitude of the manager, maintenance issues, people getting locked in their own bathrooms, whatever (actually I'm not that angry, but if I will be if they take much longer replacing my door).

This evening after we were told it was ok to go back up to our apartments, a father and his three young children were waiting for the elevator.The kids were in awe of the firefighter, in his full regalia, walking down the hall. As he passed by he held out his hand and high fived each of them. I thought that was sweet.

Tuesday, July 31, 2007

Next I'll Throw a TV in the Hotel Pool

I locked myself in my bathroom today. It's simple: I was curious to see if the locked worked, as I'd never tried using it.

It worked. Too well. It kept me locked in from the inside.

I stayed calm. For about 45 seconds. I scanned my tiny bathroom for some sort of tool. My search yielded a barrette. I fantasized that with one deft toggle I'd be free. 27 clumsy toggles later I was still trapped, and composed as a chimpanzee on crack.

Not only am I high strung, I am extremely claustrophobic. I can't even stand sleeping in a bed with the covers tucked in. I wanted out and I wanted out now.

For the first time in my life, a bathroom scale became my friend. I picked it up and smashed it into the door. Ah, victory. A small tear produced a window of light. Somewhere between ten to fifteen increasingly vigourous smashes later I had produced a large enough hole to climb through.

Of all the things I try to be grateful for, I will now have "Not being trapped in my bathroom" on my list.

I needed to get back to work, but stopped into the leasing office first to tell them what had happened. Let me start by saying that I am a perfect tenent. I pay my rent on time, if not early. I'm ridiculously quiet. I'm 47 years old and I wear a lot of pink and well...I don't exactly look like some party animal who goes around smashing in doors. The arrogant and condescending property manager (he had never bothered me thus far, but everyone in the building hates him) wasn't swayed by these facts. He's, um, (I'm whispering): he likes boys and kind of right out of central casting about it. When I told him what had happened, he gave me a special look and said "Do you think maaaaybe you overreacted? Couldn't you maaaaaybe have just kicked the door?" He made it very clear that he had superior breaking-out-of-bathroom skills and I did not. Ok then. For some reason I didn't get angry. I stated the facts, signed a work order and walked back to work.

When I came home four hours later the entire door had been smashed in. As in pieces of door and door splinters, but no actual door. Maybe tomorrow they'll put in a new door. Maybe they won't. All I can say is that I'm happy I'm sitting here at my desk, watching the shipping traffic on the Bay.

Sunday, July 29, 2007

Benihana of Twenty Something

I once read that Benihana of Tokyo is so inauthentic that in Tokyo it is called Benihana of New York.

Anyway, Benihana is where I spent my Saturday evening. The occassion was my coworker Jamie's bachelorette party. Her bridesmaids in attendance were in their 20s; the other coworkers she'd invited were 21 and just-turned 30.
My coworkers had told me they really wanted me to be there. For some reason, at this somewhat advanced stage in my life, people in their 20s like me. One of them last night said "Wendy, you tell the best stories." Maybe that has something to do with it.


The whole Benihana rapid-whacking -up- of -meat- and -vegetables thing was cheesy but fun. I pronounced this loudly whistling, steam plume-producing onion 'freakish and wrong' but it was quite good with gingery dipping sauce.

Coworkers Ashley and Diana. Diana, the one on the left, is pretty close to being a perfect coworker. She is really sweet. She reminds me in ways of a coworker in Phoenix named Meghan who had a lovely, lilting voice and was always in a good mood. When I was all but banging my forehead against my desk in administrative-overload frustration, Meghan would e-mail me pictures of puppies and offer me half of her Twix bar.
Jamie, the bride-to-be. The wedding is August 11th.

Why yes, we do!

One of my coworkers hung up from an incoming call Friday, turned to me and said "Wendy, you are not going to believe this one. "

They guy she'd been talking to had told her he'd been a truck driver for years. In what she says sounded like total seriousness, he explained that he now wanted to become a bounty hunter. Did we offer a degree in that?

Saturday, July 21, 2007

Congratulations ____ and ______

I live next door to the Landmark, a facility that hosts wedding receptions. Every weekend the marquee changes at least three times, sometimes just a few hours apart: Congratulations Kim and Devin. Congratulations Brittney and Bill. Congratulations Julie and Corey.

It is both heartwarming and amusing to see the variety of bridesmaid's dresses. Today I slowed my car to allow a bridesmaid to dash across the street from the parking lot into the building. The bridezilla to whom she was attending had not chosen the dresses wisely. The dress looked like a pastel flowered clingy white nightgown. It had wispy spaghetti straps. The bridesmaid was at least a size 18 and had several large tattoos on her arms and back. I wish I had gotten a picture of her. She was just really interesting visually. Her face was sweet and she was very likeable as she tottered on her heels in the rain, trying to make it inside before her carefully styled hair got wet.

Friday, July 20, 2007

Yep, That's My Plan

I am lucky to have a wonderful, fun, 27 year old manager. He's a very positive person and maintains an upbeat atmosphere without being cloying. He not only tolerates my silliness and sarcasm, he encourages it.

Sample dialogue:

Him: Hey Everyone! Wendy's appointment is here. She's going to enroll this guy! Right Wendy?
Me: Yep.
Him: Hey Everyone! She's not only going to enroll him, she's going to get him to do his application before he leaves. Right Wendy?
Me: Yep.

Pause

Me: You know, I think that's not enough. I'm going to do something more.
Him: Hey Everyone! Wendy's going to do something more!
Me: Yeah, getting him enrolled and getting the app isn't enough. I'm going to usher in a new era of world peace.
Him: Hey Everyone! Wendy's going to usher in a new era of world peace!

Wednesday, July 11, 2007

International House of Dogs

When I opened this picture, sent to me by my sister, my reaction reminded me of something my niece had said to me a few years ago. Said niece, who was in her sophomore year of Reed College, and I were at a crosswalk in Northwest Portland waiting to cross the street. Out of the blue Sarah said to me "Wendy, please don't gnaw too loudly." Baffled, I asked her what that was supposed to mean. She informed me that there was a really cute dog behind me and that whenever I see a cute dog I burst forth with a resounding "Nawwwwwwww!"

The title of this post comes from the fact that Zoe is a Shibu Inu, Brooklyn is an...er.. New Yorker, and Sierra's ancestors were of course from the land down under.

Thursday, July 05, 2007

Pink Thoughts / Views from an Apartment


"Pink Thoughts" by the Swedish artist Charlotta Sandberg became mine thanks to a winning ticket at a holiday party art auction in Sweden. I didn't really take anything with me to Phoenix, so this is the first time I've had it in my home.

A glimpse of my bedroom, including mirrored closet doors (bad feng shui, but good for extending the water view and for getting dressed in the morning). Couldn't get the lighting right on this pic (too dark without flash), but it gives you an idea.
Yes I know I've shown this view before but it's a little different each time depending on what's going on on the water and how visible the mountain is. And after living in a room in Phoenix that looked out onto a wall, I don't think I will ever get tired of this view.

Sunday, July 01, 2007

Trophy Wives

After my mother read my "Ted Nugent School of Home Decorating" post, she told me she had recently read an Ann Landers column about almost the exact same situation. She said the woman in the column had complained about her husband's (similarly) appalling taste in decor, and that the woman in the column had draped the deer head trophies with sheets whenever they had company over.

Maybe it was the same jerk's ex-wife? Or perhaps there are more women out there than we realize who are having to live with dead animal heads on their walls. If so, maybe there should be a support group. I think 'Trophy Wives' would be a good name.

Views from a Train (Tacoma to Bellingham)



The nebulous forms in the background are the San Juan islands. You see blurry, I see mystical. Let's call the whole thing off.
This post is an experiment to see if the text works better below the photo (as I usually do) or above (as in the caption about the San Juan islands). Let me know what you think.