So Adorable

American Idol Finale

Have I mentioned that I now live in the world's coolest apartment? Every time I look out the windows I'm amazed that this place is mine. My friends' reaction tonight confirmed that yes, it really is all that. I hosted a small American Idol finale party tonight. I've had two glasses of wine, which is a night of heavy drinking for me, so I'm aware I'm being even less linear than usual. Anyway, check out my mountain and the ship barging (wha ha) into my bedroom.



Tonight there were a lot of good laughs, and shrieking when David Cook won. We were sure it was going to be David Archuletta. This is the first year I've been pleasantly surprised by who won. In attendance tonight were Christy, Faauu, Robert, and Faauu's boyfriend Gerard who sat at my desk and taught an online class while the rest of us were acting like happy idiots.



So, you're wondering, how is the Atkins diet going? That's a rhetorical and mean-spirited question. And you didn't even ask it. Of course it's not going. How can anyone over the age of 20 possibly survive on it. The one sacrifice I've made is I've stopped eating bread. And I've lost...I don't know. 15 ounces or something. This really is going to be a tough journey, but I'll make it somehow. In the meantime, I've got a great new goal: I'm going to start drinking more wine. What do you think?

More Views

This is what I look out on from my desk. Double click on the photo and you'll be able to see Stadium High School, mountains, and other cool stuff.

This is the view from the other set of windows in the living room.

When you walk to the end of my street, this is what you see.

At Your Own Risk

"Atkins??! Noooo. You don't want to do that. Just go on the Brittney diet!"

These words of wisdom are dispensed to me from the Penelope's coffee shop girls, one of whom - a sweet 23 year old artist- has a swingy chalk-white ponytail. Feigning interest, I ask for an explanation of the Brittney diet. "Half!" I'm told. "Just eat half of whatever you want!"

Next she'll tell me to try 100-calorie packs of Oreos.

I want to tell you this seriously: Do not ever give me a 100-calorie pack of Oreos. Giving me a 100-calorie pack of Oreos is like giving a lion a meatball. It's just not enough and you could encounter a dangerous reaction.

Do not give me little feather-weight packets of anything unless you plan on giving me six or seven. Granted, if you give me multiples I will proceed to do what I did with my one-week supply of daily, Barbie-sized, Jenny Craig chocolate bars: I will eat them all within 10 minutes. Actually, probably more like 5. The Jenny Craig incident happened well over 10 years ago, but I assure you I have not changed.

What it comes down to is I am not capable of moderation when it comes to anything involving sugar and / or flour. Yeah, I know, you are and that's great, but sugar and flour are my heroin. You don't tell someone to just cut back on their heroin usage.

Yes, I know the Atkins diet has risks. Yes, I know many gain all the weight back after they stop. Yes, I know it's gross to live on animal carcasses and celery, but going low carb is the only way I've ever lost weight.

So if Wendy's (ugh, I'm referring to myself in the 3rd person) Incredible Weight Loss Journey is ever going to start in earnest low carb it will have to be.

Let's just hope I don't eat seven bunless cheeseburgers.

Views from New Apartment

Light

Winery Tour

Faauu, Christy and I went on a day tour of two wineries and Snoqualamie Falls. First Stop was Silver Lake winery, where the event host was not pleased to see our group of 17 people ("I have a huge group coming but, um, ok, well hold on..."). Ten minute wait followed by a rather rushed tasting of four wines. My favorite was the raspberry wine (ok, I don't have a sophisticated palette. I'm nice to dogs and needy people. Leave me alone). They had many flavors of fruit wines. I say how wonderful.

It was the first warm day of the season, so the Chateau St. Michelle tasting was conducted outside. To be honest, I don't remember the wines that well but the setting was gorgeous. After the tasting, we sat under a tree and just relaxed and talked, which was of course lovely.

I have no idea what Faauu and Christy are doing, but when I saw them like that I told them to hold the pose. Why am I not in any of the photos? Because I'm unhappy with my weight, that's why. I'm contemplating doing posting a photo every week so all of you can watch my amazing weight loss journey (I'm aiming for 35 pounds), but first I want to be sure there will be an amazing weight loss journey.

Snoqualamie Falls was waterfall-y as waterfalls tend to be.It was hard to get the full experience by competing for space against the railing. There is a lodge just above the falls, visible in the photo above. If the falls can be heard with the windows open at night, I'd like to stay there sometime.

Comfortably Dumb

The Pantages Theatre is three blocks from where I work and seven blocks from where I live (well, ten blocks now that I've moved). When I saw that The Pink Floyd Experience was coming, I knew I had to check it out. So check it out I did.

What I sought was a conditioned response. I listened to Dark Side of the Moon hundreds of times in college dorm rooms, and probably saw the midnight movie of The Wall eight or nine times. Needless to say, few (if any) of those times involved keen mental acuity. Those experiences were soft, mystical and dreamy and I figured the music was so imprinted to that state of consciousness that just hearing it again would reprise it.

Nope.

At one point I was so bored, I entertained myself by coming up with scathing review headlines (Comfortably Dumb being my obvious favorite, with Shine On You Crazy Cubic Zirconia in 2nd place). I worried about things I'd forgotten to do at work that day. I rolled my eyes at the poorly executed "If you don't eat your meat, you can't have any pudding!" Damn. Couldn't they have gotten that right? I love that line. I've been known to walk by someone's desk and say that line just because I feel like it.

One segment, an unexpected one, was brilliant. It was a tribute to Syd Barrett. I didn't recognize the song, but it was gorgeous and the accompanying visual effects were water color-y and sublime. If the whole show had been like that I would have been in heaven. Unfortunately the lighting was garish and overdone, consisting too often of shining woken-from-a-nightmare glaring blue light into the audience, producing a "Stop it, dammit!" reaction (perhaps the less high strung perceived it differently).

Take a second and try to picture the audience. If you are picturing 60 year old men in tie dye t-shirts and long gray ponytails you've pretty much got it right. You can't go back again, but perhaps they never left. I have in no uncertain terms moved on from who I was 30 years ago. I've had to. I hate to say it, but The Pink Floyd Experience underscored for me the fact that I am so centered in the harsh reality of the real world that I can rarely, if ever, relax. I miss the times when I could not only relax but float to the edge of a world so vast, so beautiful, and so mysterious that just a glimpse was an enormous priviledge.

Busy

When I have time to catch up, I'll post pictures from the winery / Snoqualamie Falls day trip I took with Christy and Faauu two weeks ago. I'll also post pictures of the new apartment. Maybe I'll even write something.

New Apartment

I'm moving in April 25th. The building is 4 blocks from my current one. My new building has better views, a dishwasher (a year with no dishwasher was more than enough), and a nicer caliber of residents. I'd taken to calling my current building "Crack Whore Gardens". It was time to move.

Downtown Tacoma Waterscape

This waterscape takes up the majority of the block of the Commerce Street Transit Center. It's water, it flows; needless to say I love it. I'm happy to announce that I am no longer in need of transit centers since I have bought a new car (ok, a new old car). It's a shiny champagne-gold Saturn, very pretty, and in good shape mechanically.

Smoke and Mirrors

A Random Day

I'm sick of my job. I'm sad about this. I love the building I work in, love downtown Tacoma, and love my coworkers. Well, almost all of my coworkers. Sadly, I share office space with one of the most diabolically egotistical women on the planet.She's a silly, stringy-haired thing in her mid 20s. It says bad things about me if I let someone like her bother me, so I usually do a fine job of ignoring her. I think you know where this is going.

Saturday morning obnoxious coworker started in on how she's "Leading the pack" and "In line for an amazing raise!" and "The shining star of Tacoma!" I know this doesn't absolve me, but I'd only had a few hours of nightmare-infested sleep. I...wasn't feeling well. My responses to her were something to the effect of "Grrrowl!" "Grrrrrr!" and "Rooarrrrrrrr!" I sounded like something from a horror movie. I may as well have been carrying a chainsaw. She actually flinched at one point, and yes, I liked it. No, I'm lying. I loved it.

I walked out the door at noon as calm and relaxed as a rabid kangaroo on crack. I was walking with Robert to his car when he decided to accompany me on a walk. That was the start to the Random Day.

Here's a list of what happened on the Random Day, which was, by the way, very enjoyable and which possibly stopped me from leaving a Wendy-shaped bas relief in my 14th floor living room window:

1. Sat and talked for an hour and a half in a zen-like hospital lobby
2. Walked through a hail storm to get back to Robert's car at work.
3. Had lunch at Anthony's at Pt. Defiance
4. Drove into Pt. Defiance park. Passed through groves of lime-green phosphorescent
trees. Drove by the logging museum. Wandered into a covered picnic area surrounded
by majestic trees, amazing Puget Sound views and pristine fresh air. I decided
in earnest,that it's where I'd like to get married.
5. Saw a sign for "Blacksmith demonstration". I fantasized that the
blacksmith was a 6'2, 50 year old dentist who did the blacksmith thing on
weekends to build up his already-impressive biceps. Alas, we were too late
for the demo.
6. Rode the ferry round trip to Vashon Island
7. Made the same wrong turn onto the highway leading to the Tacoma Narrows Bridge
that resulted in a ticket New Year's Eve.
8. Went to the T-Mobile booth at the Tacoma Mall to find out how to load photos from
phone onto my computer.
9. Went to Dairy Queen
10. Passed a "Quick Test" booth on exiting the mall, staffed by one guy with a crew
cut and the other with the kind of gigantic, two-foot high spikes in his hair
that were radical 30 years ago. Both men were behind a full-walled glass enclosure
like a zoo exhibit
11. Exited Tacoma mall trying to figure out what they were testing.
12. Passed a "Learn How to Ride!" sign and saw motorcycle neophites buzzing
in a circle around a parking lot.

I think the highlight of the day was the Vashon Island ferry. We've had bizarre weather this week, with snow of all absurd things. We headed out to Vashon Island around 4:30 pm and got some delicious late afternoon sun on the way over. With my eyes closed and the sun on my face, the horrible morning was far from my mind. Watching the sun sparkle on the water, feeling the wind blow back my hair, and taking in the panoramic views was not only therapeutic but divine. I live only three miles from the ferry dock. I need to get out on the water more often, whether it's part of a random day (which I need more of) or a planned one.

Rainbow Lightning

More El Paso (Read previous post 1st, if orderly type)

International Bridge. These people are walking from Mexico into the US.

How wonderful is this? I'm a condiment freak, and it doesn't get much better than chopped onions and cilantro, lime wedges, whole roasted chilis, and mole sauce. Hopefully I didn't abuse.

Downtown El Paso

Juarez, Mexico as seen from the highway. Texas on one side of the highway, Mexico on the other. Very cool.

A mile or two from New Mexico. I love this sort of barren landscape.

El Paso

Sometimes you just have to see what a dot on a map looks like in all its sprawling glory. I have a friend in El Paso, so off I went.
Here is a 4th grade geography lesson: El Paso is on the border of Mexico, and only a few miles from New Mexico. It is over 80% Hispanic.


In ways the city looks like Phoenix- blue skies, palm trees, taupe mountains. I think El Paso is prettier, maybe because it's at a higher elevation.

Since my friend Gil is an El Paso native, I got to go to the type of Mexican restaurant the natives frequent. The food was wonderful, but this Margarita was made with wine and tasted like...watered down wine. I also got to sample Horchato, a sweetened rice drink. It tasted like the milk at the bottom of a bowl of Cinnamon Life cereal.

When the Holiday Inn shuttle driver was driving me from the airport, I asked about Mexico. He pointed and showed me the lights of Juarez. He may as well have pointed out the rings of Saturn. I am fascinated by borders. As border cities go, Juarez is a bit challenged. Over 100 people have been murdered there so far this year due to the drug cartels.

El Paso Zoo

Gil had to work on Saturday, so I went to the zoo. A lot of the exhibits were being renovated, so while talking to Peter in Sweden (I decided I needed some company. and liked the idea of being on the border of Mexico and talking to someone in Sweden) I proclaimed the zoo "The worst zoo in America." After more of a look around, I upgraded it to decent.

When I told Peter I was looking at a donkey, he asked if there was a little Mexican man next to it, taking a nap under his sombrero. Interesting that such a 60s type of iconic sterotype would find it's way to Sweden.

I'm at a loss for how to caption this...

27 Years Later

Twenty six years and ten months ago (May 10, 1981) I finished my bachelors degree. Now I have my masters.

I finished with a 3.9 GPA. I'm proud of this simply because it took a lot of self discipline to do this while working 40+ hours a week.

Now that I have some free time, I'm contemplating what I am going to do and learn next. I'm going to work as much overtime as I can because the more money I have, the happier I am. I'm planning on taking dance lessons again. I'm probably going to join some kind of writers group. Other than that, I'm not sure. Maybe one night- just one- I'll sit in front of the TV and do nothing but stare at it. Hopefully I can find something worthy of this mission. Are there any channels that show Beavis and Butthead reruns?

Planet *uckin'

An auto salvage yard paid me $150 for my car and towed it away. I was sad to see it go. I'd fantasized that it was the miracle disposable car. One day, I dreamed,it would reach the half a million mile mark. Perhaps I should have fantasized further and given it retractable rotoblades to whirrrr me up out of traffic all together.

I haven't started shopping for a new car yet. My village lifestyle and my capacity to walk fast and far have made securing a new vehicle a less-than-urgent matter. I may even choose to not have a car for a while. What may make me cave is the idiots with whom I must share my occassional public transit foray.

I am becoming convinced that there are an increasing number of Americans whose practicing vocabulary consists of 200 or fewer words. Why, they must rationalize to themselves, bother with tedious adjectives when the word fuckin' can be substituted for just about anything?

At the bus stop I encountered three groups of people. Young man in group #1 " I hate it when people fuckin' text message me cuz I have to pay for that fuckin' shit. They're fuckin' idiots." Woman in group #2 turning to man with her "Hey, what the fuck're you doing? I fuckin told you not to fuckin' do that." The verbiage of group #3 contained roughly the same number of fuckins.

When I lived in Portland, I had next door neighbors I thought of as The Fuckins. They were three construction workers in their 20s who smoked their countless cigarettes on their balcony, thus unwittingly treating me to their witty repartee: "Yeah my fuckin' boss, my fuckin' girlfriend, fuckin', fuckin' fuckin'..."

I told my friend Tracy that the Fuckins would end up setting the building on fire. They did. This was not a psychic prediction, just one based on the fact that they balanced their cigarettes on the ledge of the wooden balcony.

Anyway, America is full of fuckins and I'm having a hard time daaling with it I'm starting to see all these fuckins as being something less than human. Perhaps one day when a toddler answers "moo" and "baa" to the questions what does a cow say and what does a sheep say, he will also proudly answer "fuckin'!!" when asked "What does an uneducated,apathetic, vocabulary-impoverished idiot say?"

I think I better start carrying my Ipod with me when I take the bus.

Tacoma It Is

This afternoon I told the regional director that I want to stay in Tacoma. She emailed back something about the Tacoma office continuing to benefit from my performance and leadership. It was nice. I feel very good about my decision. There's something 'just right' about Tacoma for me, and I won't have to give up my village lifestyle. I adore having most everything I need in walking distance. I can't stand a car dependent lifestyle. Especially now that I don't have one. Wha ha.

My coworkers had good ideas as to what to do with my car. I called an auto salvage place and am waiting to hear if the owner is interested in paying me $500 for parts. I'll take whatever the want to give me- they'll tow it away, and I'll start looking for a new car. Fair enough. It's hard for me to get excited about a new car. Cars just don't thrill me. I see them as merely a way to get from point A to point B.

One more week of school. Proud of me? Buy me a Rotato!

Actually I have no desire for a Rotato. A minimalist at heart, I am disdainful of unnecessary gadgetry. I do, however, think Rotato is a fabulous word, and quite possibly the greatest (as in most ridiculous) Ronco product ever. Or is it K-Tel? One of the companies sells horrible 70s album complilations Get up and boooogie and the other sells Rotatos and the like.

Only you know for sure.

Famous Last Words

"I think my disposable car will last another year!" I raved in a recent post.

Wrong.

It sputtered to a smoke-spewing stop three feet from the Sears Automotive Center at the Tacoma Mall. Never mind the smoke spewing and the sputtering. Did you catch the part about my car dying right in front of the Sears Automotive Center? I really am a ridiculously lucky person. Years ago when I was in photography school in Santa Barbara, I drove up a remote mountain pass somewhere around Ojai. As the sun was starting to set, I packed up the 4 x 5 camera I never made friends with and got ready for the 45 minute drive home. Only my car wouldn't start. And it was starting to get dark- and I was on a pretty remote mountain pass. Keep in mind this was in the days before cell phones. Five minutes into my quandry, a car pulled up. The driver was a mechanic. He fixed my car. Off I went.

The Sears guys first checked the oil. It was full. They sniffed and poked at a few other things (ew, that sounded gross, didn't it?) before deciding it was the transmission. Or as they first put it "This isn't good."

It's not that bad either. As mentioned, it was a disposable car. Eleven months of driving for approximately $1,500 isn't bad.

They pushed my deceased Buick into a parking space and I took a bus home. Now I have to figure out how one disposes of a disposable car. I'm hoping someone will tow it away and pay me a few dollars for parts. I'll have to ask around at work tomorrow to see how this is done. Needless to say, I'll be walking to work. Yet another reason why I love living one mile from my place of employment.

Maybe

I might transfer to the Renton/Tukwila campus, 25 miles north of Tacoma, in May.

I'd be closer to Seattle, although I'm not sure that's a big deal to me. Tacoma is more my speed.

I'd be leaving an office where gasping, tear-streaming laughter is a daily occurence. I honestly don't think I have laughed as hard and as often in 20 years as I do in my current work environment. That's hard to leave. Also, I am doing well at my job in Tacoma. But... I might have the opportunity to do even better in Renton.

Unassuming as Tacoma is on the surface, it's full of funky tea shops and views from bridges, and a myriad of other little hidden treasures. I'm not sure I'm ready to leave it.

Sweet

I hardly ever listen to the radio. When would I? I walk to work, I'm not the type who plays a radio while I'm working, and I just don't listen to it at home. In fact, half the time when I'm at home, 14 stories up, I just open the window and listen to the pleasant ambient noise.

The radio in my disposable car no longer works. Have I ever talked here about my disposable car? No? Ok, it's a 1992 Buick Le Sabre with 184,000 miles on it. I bought it last April for $1,100 and just shrugged and said however long it lasts, it lasts. It's lasted almost a year. It drives beautifully, has no body damage, and I have a feeling it will last at least another year or two. The radio is starting to go, but given a choice between that, and driving virtually for free, I can live with that.

A few weeks ago, when the radio still worked, a song came on that I'm pretty sure I hadn't heard in at least 20 years. It was like running into an old friend. You're going to laugh when I tell you the song: "Action" by The Sweet. I've since downloaded "Desolation Boulevard" and listen to at my desk all the time. It makes me unreasonably happy. "Set me Free"? How could I have forgotten that song? It's...beautiful. It is, really, amidst all its hard-driving misogyny.

As mentioned, when "Action" came on the radio it just slayed me. As many people have pointed out to me (in a nice way, thank God), I have a story for everything. And yes I have a story associated with that song. A memory, actually from the archives. My friend Nancy was in the front row of some talk show (Merv Griffin? Someone of that 1976-ish ilk). The featured guest was some big, bloated bodybuilder in a red speedo. His claim to fame was that he could blow up a rubber hot water bottle until it burst. So in the tape Nancy showed me of the show, there was Mr. bodybuilder in all his blonde, blow-dried glory, heaving back and forth to the song - you guessed it- "Action". Yes, the bottle burst before the end of the song. I have no idea what the point of all this was supposed to be. Maybe his next trick was to put out a campfire with a mightily- gushing arc of pee. Who knows. When his performance ended, the camera panned to Nancy applauding. She thought she looked nerdy since she sort of bounced in her seat in a "Gee, that was so fabulous!" sort of manner. When you look like a cross between Cher and a supermodel you can get away with such things.

So that's my "Action" story.

My friend Christy often jokes with me "And you remember this...why?"

Good question. I just do.

In 16 more days I wiil be finished with my masters degree. I can not begin to tell you how happy this makes me.

Smoke on the Water (Ok, Fog)

Stadium District

My nephew asked to see more pictures of Tacoma. Here are some 'exactly the way it is' pics from my neighborhood. When I look back (2 months from now- a year from now- who knows with my life) on what it was like to live in Tacoma, I want a window back to exactly what it was like to live in the Stadium District.

First- And Not Last- American Idol Post

I loved Kyle Ensley. I thought "Love Grows Where my Rosemary Goes" was an amazing song choice, and I don't think the performance was "corny". I am sad that he didn't make the top 24.

My favorite so far is David Archuletta. His voice is classically pure and beautiful and he's adorable. I know this makes me sound old, but I like teenagers who are clean cut and polite. After all of his Thank you, thank yous after he was selected for the top 24, he turned to the judges as he was leaving the room and said "Have a nice day!". He's earnest. I love earnest people.

I also like the Joplin-esque Amanda,Shyesha, and the keyboard player with the long blonde hair.

Birthday / Best Italian Restaurant Ever

Saturday night a group of us from work went out to dinner to celebrate Faauu's 41st birthday. We had a great time, and the restaurant- Marzano's- was amazing. Faauu is at the head of the table. Also present are a very large trying-to-hide Wendy Sue, Christy (best next cube neighbor ever. She has a great sense of humor, and actually enjoys it when I sing Eddie Grant's 'Electic Avenue' with my special emphasis on the Rastafarian-accented "Good God!" line), LaTosha, and her husband Fredrick. We all have a great time at work together. Everyone is starting to look for new jobs. I probably won't be far behind, since one of the main things keeping me at this job is how much fun I have at work.

This shot captures the dynamic of Faauu and Latosha's friendship.

Gearing up for a major weight loss effort is not the best time to discover how absolutely delicious an infusion of cream makes a pasta dish.

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