An Hour in Parking Lot Shores

What's wrong with this picture?
What's wrong with this picture is that THERE ARE CARS ON THE BEACH. I know this isn't the only beach in the country where people can drive their cars halfway into the ocean, but that doesn't make it ok. Wait, I feel like yelling again. IT DOESN'T MAKE IT OK.

On a lighter note, there are also doggies on the beach. Doggies are good.

And pinchy crustacean remnants which are interesting in a seriously-glad-that-thing-wasn't-scuttling-through-the- sand-toward-me kind of way

Ocean Shores has horses who may or may not bite.

You can ride them while trucks zoom past you. Perhaps the horses' bridles should be outfitted with blinking turn signals. Has anyone in Ocean Shores ever heard of a PARKING LOT? I parked at a Shilo Inn and had a 10 minute walk to the beach. It really wasn't terribly difficult.

These girls had the right idea. I love this photo. I think it looks like a painting.


A beach that is half parking lot is stupid.
But the ocean, the greatest thing on earth, made driving five hours round trip worth it. Even for a one-hour visit.

Sometimes You Have to See Blue Angels

I thought it might be more interesting to see the take off and landing rather than the actual show over Lake Washington. And then there's the real story which is that I was too unorganized to make it up to Seafair in time. Around noon I suddently realized I didn't just want to see the Blue Angels, I had to see them. The show started at 1:30, so after some frantic Googling, I found out they take off and land at the Museum of Flight, near Boeing Field (closer to Tacoma, no parking hassles, etc.) It was cool to see certain 'Who knew?' features such as the fly-by-numbers line up.



The moment before the Blue Angels take off, there is a great plume of smoke. Then they taxi down the runway for a few not-that-fast seconds. By the time you blink they are in the distant horizon.

I'm drawn to overt life force. I can't stand stillness or absolute silence. Having a fan in the room keeps my need for chi happy. Dancing, thundering, graceful, beautiful (yep, I like them) 1,400 mph airplanes in my zone takes me to the source of it all. I don't see an anthropomorphic deity. I see my deity in thunderstorms, ocean waves, mountains, and Blue Angels.

Corny? Maybe when you read it. But definitely not when you feel it.

A Twitter-like Post

Listening to Deep Purple and craving a thunderstorm.

The Crystal Ship

Title is a tribute to my favorite song by The Doors.

Favorite Beatles song: Here Comes the Sun. Favorite Stones song: Paint it Black.

Favorite Lady Gaga song: I don't have one. I don't even know one. I'm 50, Ok?

Brissfully Relieved

For some reason the Jewish holidays came up.

Ok, I'll stop being coy. The Jewish holidays came up because I'm the only Jew at work and it makes me feel different. And special! Me Me Me ME ME. Thank you.

I enjoy sharing my heritage with those who know even less about it than I do.

Let me preface this by saying the woman I'm about to mention is a lovely, intelligent person. It's not her fault that rural Louisiana, where she lived until recently, does not have a large Jewish population.

Me: So anyway, a Bar Mitzvah...

Her: I know what a Bar Mitzvah is!

Me: Really?

Her : (nodding head sagely) It's when a 13 year old boy gets circumcized.

Me: Umm...What you're talking about is called a briss and...

Her: Yeah! They remove the foreskin.

Me: Uh, that's right but...

Her (puzzled look on her face): How do they get 13 year old boys to agree to that?

I love my new apartment

Photos soon

Facets

Your Friendly Neighborhood Pharmacy

I love my neighborhood. It borders Commencement Bay and is in walking distance to downtown. It has a village feel to it, with nice locally owned and operated businesses. My neighborhood is not, thank goodness, quaint. Say the word quaint around me and it's possible you'll see me shudder. Say 'quaint little bed and breakfast' and I may run out of the room screaming.

My neighborhood has a pharmacy called Rankos that's been around for many decades. I used to get my prescriptions filled there until 1. The antique pharmacist handed me some guy's Viagra instead of my sinus medicine 2. The same pharmacist again gave me someone else's prescription 3. The pharmacist gave me my correct prescription, with two other prescription-filled plastic bags stuck to it, and 4. The pharmacist looked at me one day when I was deep in thought and said "Are you always happy?"

Huh?

Let's put it this way: When I told this story to friends tonight they burst out laughing.

I'm often silly, entertaining, amused, interested, and various other engaged-by-life descriptors, but I am clearly not a person who is always happy. I walk around very lost in my own head. My expression at such times is more likely to be viewed as intense or even mildly frightning than carefree or happy.

So. No more friendly neighborhood pharmacy.

In news that is actually apropos of something (though I'm not sure what) I'm moving into a different apartment within my same building. I'll explain why and take pics when I move in later this month.

Puzzle Piece

I See in Portals

Interview

Q: When are you going to stop taking pictures of trees and rainbows and start writing again?

A: I don't know. I'm working on other writing projects and not that many people read my blog anyway. And I'm proud of my creative way with trees, rainbows, and abstracts, so I enjoy sharing those.

Q: How's your life?

A: Functional, but I'm having a mid-life breakthrough

Q: When did you start using vomity euphemisms like 'mid-life breakthrough' instead of 'midlife crisis'?

A: Just now. It won't happen again.

Touchdown

Impressionist Driveway

Follow the Light

Easter Schmeaster

Pardon my irreverence, but I really wanted Macy's to be open today.

For the Record

I was using one of the computers in the lobby of the Fredriksburg, Denmark Radisson when I found out my nephew and his wife were pregnant.

Ok, I'm old. Saying a couple is pregnant sounds retarded to me. My nephew's wife is pregnant. Not my nephew.

I was at work today when my mom called to tell me the ultrasound showed it's a boy. It also showed that said boy is swimming, running, and doing gymnastics in utereo. Not surprising considering his parents each have about 4% body fat and run about a hundred miles a day.

I am really excited about this baby.

Because I Like Orange

Fine Lines

Mighty Mountain

My new Nikon has a mighty zoom.

I should have gone to Norway instead of Denmark

On my Iceland trip I also went to Denmark, where I saw my Swedish ex-boyfriend Peter.

See title of this post.

Next Stop

I think I want to go to Greenland.

Glacier Blue

Heart-Shaped Meatloaf! Heart-Shaped Meatloaf!

I'm on the newly-formed 'Fun Committee' at work. I've always kept the birthday list and made sure the birthday person has a card and a cake. Yep, I'm good (you do know I'm kidding) and that's why I'm now listed as 'Birthday Specialist Wendy Gilson'. Can I put that on my resume? Or could you maybe greet me one day with a hearty, military-style 'Good morning Birthday Specialist Gilson!' I'd really like that.

Fun fact: If I had been born in Iceland,I would have been Wendy Albertsdottir (Albert's daughter). Or perhaps Wendy Alsdottir. Very few Icelanders have an official family last name.

In my office this afternoon, there was a meeting of five people gathered in a small room to plan a fun February event (That's right! It was the Fun Committee!) We decided on a Valentines Day potluck. I suggested we go for maximum schmaltz - pink, white and red, too many hearts, gooey sentiments, the whole nine yards. As logic would dictate, this needs to extend to the food, so that's why at about 4:15 PM I was excitedly shouting "Heart-shaped meatloaf! Heart-shaped meatloaf! I'm going to make a heart-shaped meatloaf!

It will be frosted in ketchup (Valentines Day red heart...). Now I just need to go to Michael's to get the appropriately-shaped pan.

Reykjavik City Pond

Geyser

Geyser is the only Icelandic word in the English language. Now you know! It means to rush forth, or erupt.

Some do so in a less-dramatic, more continuous manner.

The geyser field is in an area called Haukadal, in southwest Iceland.

I think I'd have to visit another planet to find a place more interesting than Iceland.

First Day in Iceland

After taking the 'Flybus' from Keflavik to Reykjavik, it was about 9:30 AM. And dark.

My hotel room was not ready, but I was nicely offered a go at the breakfast buffet. Nothing beets a good breakfast (yes, there they are in the upper left)

Breakfast was actually quite good. I had skyr with my corn flakes (or whatever twenty-letter name there is for corn flakes in Icelandic). Skyr is a cross between milk and yogurt, and way better than either.

After breakfast it was light outside, and a perfectly pleasant 42 degrees. I walked down to the harbor.




Clean air, clean water, mountains...I was falling in love.

Iceland

I'm leaving for Copenhagen tommorrow. I'm so deeply in love with Iceland I don't want to leave.

Ok, I'm in Reykjavik

It's 9:30 AM and pitch dark.

Such is life at the 66th paralell.

The sky has thus far ignored my pleas for northern lights...

Hvar er ég að fara?

Where am I going?

Hint: It's the northern-most capital in the world.

?

Girl at Clinique counter: "I always thought Iceland had hot weather year round."

She then went on to apply plum-colored blush from my cheekbones to my eyebrows.Maybe I should have bought it. Men like women with giant purple streaks on their face, right?

Under the Sea

I used the underwater macro setting on these shots. There is an ocean of visual elights in these balls. I may buy a third one; probably purple.

Weft to My Own Devices

Clip in hair extensions are called wefts.

Just getting that out of the way.

Here is a bag of hair with only one weft, I mean left. Actually I mean both because one weft is left.



I bought this bag o' hair because sometimes my hair looks ok short (as in photo below, taken Saturday night. That's me on the left). But...it's too layered and too short and not growing fast enough. That's why I coiffed up $84 for said bag o' hair, which I have not yet worn.



I've haven't worn it because I found out that wefts of long, straight hair look sadly mullet-like with short, layered hair.

The only thing weft to do was bring the hair into work and drape it on anything resembling an animate object:

Peace on Earth and Goodwill

We are having an ugly Christmas sweater contest at our All Staff meeting tomorrow.

Do I love spending 90 minutes to drive the 25 miles home from Tukwila on a Friday evening? Do I love sitting through boring meetings? Do I love the inevitable "Fun!!!!" group activities? Am I irrationally happy about the ugly sweater contest?

No, No, Usually not, and Absolutely.

I didn't own an ugly Christmas sweater, but $6 and a trip to Goodwill fixed that:



Yes I know the picture is sideways. Am rushing off to work, and will fix later. Trust me, it's no less tacky right side up.

Femtio

Femtio is Swedish for 50. I know I should be learning Spanish, but I find Swedish more interesting. It's interesting, absurd, and somewhat horrible to be 50.

I spent my birthday (Monday) in Portland with a short trip to Seaside on the Oregon coast.

The Oregon coast remains an 'it' spot for me. I can think of few places I love more.



My friend Mike was also nice enough to take me to lunch at McMenamin's. There are few restaurants I love more than McMenamin's. When I moved to Oregon in 1998, McMenamn's pubs felt good to me right away. We went to the one at Murray and Allen, right down the street from where I lived in Beaverton.
Mike is a computer and electronics genius and has applications on his Ipod Touch that I didn't know were possible.



More later and *note to self* pictures from Argosy cruise on Lake Union.

Nice Hoobies

I've been perusing Scandinavian singles ads. Why? Who cares why. The point of this post is best expressed by this 43 year old gentleman from Reykjavik:

"I’m Icelandic and lived 15 years in the Sweden’s. I write some and read and talk in Icelandic and Swedish, but I promise you ,you will laugh sometimes for some words come out wrong, but hey, its good to laugh."

Ja, it is. So I present the following Icelandic dating site gems:

"I am 6 feet tall and i have a brown eye ball,and also a round face."

"I'm mechanic and have always work wery mush"

"I grew up in Reykjavik. I spend my time with my son and at the jim and studien."

"I'm just looking for the right girl. I want to spend the life with her."

"My hoobies is camping cykling and ATV and snowcross "

i dont what to write here, is this enough? i dont know man!"


I love that last one.

And 'hoobies' is my new favorite word.

Time and Weather

Tonight's time and weather is brought to you by...Perimenopause!

The time is 1:45 AM. The weather is cloudy with intermittent 300 degree hot flashes.

The forecast calls for continued memory loss "His last name was....um... um... hold on...OMG, I can't believe I forgot this.... um...oh yeah! Berndtson!"

We recommend a time travel vacation to a 1980s destination, preferably at a time when you were reasonably thin.

Now back to our regularly scheduled programming (a phrase no one under 35 would understand- but that's ok because you're a decade and a half older than that, and before you know it you'll be getting discounts when you go to the zoo!)

Good night and sleep well.

The Unicorn Flu

Overheard by brusque, manly-man type: "I'm not feeling good. Maybe I got the pig flu."

Sorry to hear it manly man, but pig flu? Eww.

Not to hog (wha ha) too much space with this, but here's another non-kosher snippet:

Coworker #1: My boyfriend is home sick with the flu
Coworker #2: "Oh no. Regular or....oink oink?"

"Regular or oink oink?" Don't get me started on how many ways that is not an ok sentence. Not ok. Soooo not ok, Ugh! . Ok, I'll get over it.
In a few years. I hope.

Let's face it, Swine flu is simply a disgusting name for a disease. And while -to it's credit- it may not conjure nasty, rabid hog-like imagery, H1N1 doesn't exactly trip lightly off the tongue.

Enough Swine flu. Enough H1N1. More than enough (even though it was only one instance "Oink o... No, I'm not even going to finish that one.

I hereby propose a new name: The Unicorn flu.

If one is fortunate enough to contract Unicorn flu, gentle white mythical steeds with gossamer wings will transport them through rainbow-filled skies to utopian destinations. Where everyone is healthy. And no one says "Regular or..?"

Unicorn flu.

Admit it. It's better.

Space Flower

Remember all the photos I took a while back of my beloved fiber optic nightlight? I'm at it again.

Happy Halloween

As in I actually had a happy one.

Halloween last year? If you are seized with the desire to know how bad Halloween '08 in Jacksonville, NC was, ask me to tell you the vaguely-amusing fried pickle story.

You want to hear it now? Ok, basically a hot-out-of-the fryer, lightly-battered pickle wedge saved my life. I thought it was fried zucchini and then I bit into it and realized I was in the deep south and it was a pickle and it was just funny dammit, at a time when nothing was very funny at all.

I'm easily wounded emotionally, but all it takes is something like a fried pickle to bring me back.

Overall I'd say I'm lucky.

Halloween this year featured a fun party at work. The pic is of the orange and grape Kool-aid - made with half the sugar- and ginger ale punch I brought. That's white plastic bats frozen in a jello mold of Kool-aid in the middle. If I could spend my days doing things like freezing white plastic bats in Kool-Aid, I'd be a very happy woman.

I went to a party Halloween night with a pirates and princesses theme. I went as a JAP (Jewish American Pirate). Other than telling you the costume involved skull and crossbone stockings and a dollar store tiara, I'll leave it to your imagination.