Category Archives: doing it wrong

The good thing about having to work on a national holiday, if there could be such a thing, is that I didn’t even tap the brakes coming into work. I don’t know why I didn’t just leave at 10 minutes to 8 because I would have been here on time. However, it’s about 50 degrees in my office and my feet are little blocks of ice. I might have to start a little fire with that pile of old phonebooks too keep warm.

I’d also like to report that I watched The Devil Wears Prada this weekend and did not think it was so great. It was watchable, but nothing special. It also brought up long repressed memories of being an assistant to a crazy person.

The true purpose of this post is to tell you about the Washington D.C. trip back in 1974. We did the standard sight-seeing and museum stuff but mostly what I remember are things like my sister throwing up in the car, losing my favorite red t-shirt on Chincoteague and the biting crabs in the water, insisting on taking the stairs down the Washington Monument and counting them, and being left alone for the night while the grownups went to New York.

In 1974 I was 10 years old. That means that the oldest person in the photo above was 14 and the youngest, 5. What were our parents thinking? I was telling my husband the story last night and he said, “Wait a minute. You mean they left you all alone with Jeff in charge?”

Look at Aunt Janet and Uncle Barry and my Mom all decked out in her pink-checked mini-dress wandering around NYC having a blast while their young children were hundreds of miles away under the supervision of a 14 year old.

We ended up opening a brothel for the night and making oodles of cash and never would have been caught if it hadn’t been for that crack in Janet’s crystal egg.

Friend of Birds
The past two days I’ve been hunched over the keyboard, working on my Photoshop/Illustrator skills. I think my neck is ruined.

I put a up a new set of photos of the birdhouses at Mom and Dad’s. Enjoy.

Time to step away from the computer.

Change of Plans
I had some major dreaded errands to do today. I have some returns to make and gift cards to use and it’s for places not close by and as I have mentioned before I’m not one who loves shopping so I’ve been psyching myself up for this all week.

I got up early and did a little yoga, bathed and made myself presentable for the public. I had my list in one hand and my stuff in the other and was one foot out the door, except: where are my keys?

This never happens. I do not lose my keys because I always put them in the same place when I come home from work. I’ve done a major search which included all normal and accustomed places plus pockets, gym bags and inside cupboards but no luck.

I did find an earring that I thought was history and I forgot to mention that Bob found my glasses stuck inside the comforter on the bed a couple days ago. Maybe that’s where my keys are.

After saying a bunch of bad words and kicking a few things, I decided that this is a sign from the gods that I’m better off at home today and that I need to vacuum under the sofa cushions (because that will be the next level of key searching.)

Last night after I got home we jumped into Bob’s car to go to the market so I’m hoping that the keys are in his car.

Meanwhile, these are the photos of the 1970’s bathroom at the office. Too bad you can’t see how orange the ceiling is. The bottom photo is from the (don’t laugh Daisies) “snow storm” the other night.

Update: Keys were in Bob’s car. Yay.

Stormwatch 2007 Coverage Continues
Last night a few snowflakes sprinkled down on the drive home but the major surprise was when I crossed the interstate bridge and there was a thin frosting of snow everywhere. I took a photo in the front yard but it was too dark and my skills too basic to make it look cool.

When I first moved here I was the biggest pansy about driving in anything more than really wet slush. Now if it’s freezing rain, I’m still a pansy, and general snowy weather I’ll stay out of if I can, but for work or essentials, I get out there and do my thing and don’t feel like I’m about to keel over from terror.

This morning was a snap, especially since officials everywhere closed and/or delayed schools. My spouse gets a day off. It was a bit slick on our street but as soon as I hit a main road, it was wet and noneventful the entire way in. There’s nothing weather-wise going on downtown except a clear and gorgeous view. I wish we had an observation deck in the building, I would take photos.

Huge pile of work to do today. Huge.

Wednesday Round-Up
Yesterday I had a quickie post prepared but then blogger went wonky and later I got caught up in this work project which, put briefly, involves hundreds of pages of old documents and no search tools other than my eyes.

Now I have a bunch of items and will lump them all together.

1. Yesterday’s Oregonian had an article headline: "Van Halen, others to be inducted in Hall of Fame." Others being R.E.M., Patti Smith, The Ronettes and Grandmaster Flash. I’m a huge Van Halen fan even though they’ve been a complete trainwreck for the past 20 years. But come on. R.E.M. and Patti Smith, "others"?

2. Yesterday afternoon the news reported that we were going to be having snow this morning. I packed up a box of work (see item on hundreds of pages, above) I could do at home, just in case I couldn’t get to the office.

As usual, when I go to bed with reports of snow, the first thing I do when I wake up is peek out the window. As usual, nothing.

I turned on the TV and they had brave reporters up in the hills with a few snowflakes floating around their heads pointing to a nearby patch of dirt with a thin sheen of what could possibly, with great imagination, be characterized as accumulation. They made sure I knew to dress warmly and wear a coat.

As I got in the car there was a slight drizzle and some wind. A radio station reported snow downtown. I’m here now and all I have to report is that the clock on my desk needs a new battery. I have yet to see a snowflake, unless snowflake means rain.

They say the cold air is coming so maybe this will all change. I’ll report back with proper hysteria then.

3. Last time I was in Trader Joe’s I bought this Korean BBQ style beef thing because it looked like something Bob could use to make his lunch. I’m not a big beef eater and very rarely cook it. Last night I was cobbling together odds and ends for dinner and thought that, at least for Bob, the beef would round out the meal nicely.

Dinner was ready and the meat resting on the cutting board when he came through the door. He looked at it suspiciously and said, "What is that?" I told him it was the Korean beef thing and he leapt in the air and said, "Cool!" and then tore his coat off, washed his hands and was ready with his plate in about 15 seconds. He made a sandwich with the leftovers after dinner talking about how great it was going to be.

The secret to happiness in our household: beef.

4. For the old office I enrolled in some sort of IRS program online. I can’t even remember because I only did it one time. They just sent me a notice that my PIN is about to expire and I need to renew it. If I no longer need the PIN I need to logon and deactivate it. Why? If I let it expire, won’t it be deactivated? [This is where Bob would chide me for applying plogic to the IRS. ]

5. This is a quote from an article in today’s Dining Out section of the NYT.

"But most Americans spend no more than three minutes shopping for breakfast … . "

When I first read that I was speechless, but now that I type it out, I realize the rocket scientist from the "food industry research firm" who said it was referring to people who shop for their breakfast on the go. There’s something here about McD’s v. S…ucks. Don’t people know you can buy yogurt and bananas at the market and bring them to work? I’ve eaten one Egg McMuffin in the last 20 years and it wasn’t pretty. I can’t imagine eating like that every day.

Tales from Dinner
It never fails that I have some choice item for a post but don’t have the time and/or inclination to write about it right then and then the moment is lost.

While I was cleaning my desk off yesterday I found two scraps of paper with notes of stories from Xmas dinner. I’ve forgotten the details and don’t think I can capture the original energy of the discussion but here’s a short version.

Story #1
Carole invited Mom and Dad to her son Rob’s Halloween party. For the three people reading this who don’t know the backstory: my sister and parents, and a huge group of other relatives, live in No. California in a very small town. There are no places to go, as in bars, clubs, restaurants, but there are lots of private social gatherings and such activities are rarely confined to one generational group so it would make complete sense to invite Mom and Dad to Rob’s party.

Last summer Mom and Dad rented costumes from a lady in Eureka, so they thought it would be fun to rent costumes and after a bit of wrangling, Dad ended up with a pimp costume. I can’t remember if Mom was his Ho, but it sounds good so we’ll go with it.

They arrive at the party to find it in full swing including DJ’s, music, lights, more than a slight whiff of Otto’s jacket and they were the oldest people there by at least 20 years. Carole wasn’t even there.

They ended up having a good time.

My sister said she never thought she’d see the day when she was out around town and someone would shout at her, “Hey, your Dad makes a good pimp.” She also said that every time she turns up at a party, people ask her if her parents are coming. Our Mom and Dad, the hip party people.

Story #2
This isn’t so much a story as a discussion. Aileen was with us at Xmas dinner and Aileen and I are hardcore list people. We like to make lists, consult lists, train others who share our household how to contribute to the list, keep our lists handy and feel lost and insecure without our lists. Mom is not a hardcore list person.

The discussion was shopping with vs. without the list. Aileen and I felt the list was vital. Mom said she liked to go row by row and riff. That she could be more creative that way rather than going by the list. I think I liked the story because Mom used the words “riff” and “grocery shopping” in the same sentence. I doubt that has ever happened before.

A Frayed Knot
First — my email has been haywire all day. I haven’t tried to troubleshoot it which I will probably regret later but there you go. I’m hoping if I ignore it, it will go away.

For Christmas, Mom gave me a new black sweater. Priscilla gave me my first Pendleton cardigan almost 10 years ago and it is one of my favorite pieces of clothing, ever. I’ve probably worn it at least three times a week, during the cold season, every week since then.

I’m wearing the old one right now. It’s completely in tatters. One elbow is worn throught. The collar and shoulder seams have holes. I cuff my sleeves because my arms are short and because the fold makes a handy spot to keep a tissue (am I an old lady or what?) and the cuffs are completely worn and frayed. Priscilla gave me a green cardigan a year or two later and that one’s also in bad shape although I still wear it in public.

I love these sweaters because they are warm, they aren’t bulky and they don’t pill or look like crap after you’ve worn them a few times. If I was ever to be a spokesperson for a product, Pendleton clothing would be it. I have a pair of wool pants that my mom gave me when I moved to Oregon 15 years ago. They were hers for years before that. They still look fantastic although the lining is starting to protest.

The new cardigan has been hanging in the closet all pretty with the tag and extra button still on it. I kept putting off wearing it. It’s so perfect and new, what if I went to the bar and people were smoking or what if I ate marinara sauce and got sloppy?

I finally wore it last night for bluegrass and nothing bad happened and I suspect this will soon be in the regular, all the time clothing rotation.

Bluegrass turned out to be pretty fun. There were a few organizational snafus. We started out to the left of the stage and a few kids were playing there which rapidly turned into a pack of kids playing there and being kids, they made a lot of noise. At first a few adults seemed to pay attention and shush them when they got too loud. But as more and more kids joined the games everyone seemed to shrug and look the other way. When you were a kid did your parents let you play balloon volleyball and hit adults who paid $55 for an all day bluegrass pass with your balloons? I didn’t think so.

We moved closer to the middle which worked great except for the beer garden. The event is gaining momentum. I think this is year #3. They had a lot more vending taking up space in the back of the hall so the beer garden was moved up to the side of the bleachers. Before it was behind the bleachers. Emmylou was in the middle of a heart-melting melody and for accompaniment: the din from the beer garden. You have to ask yourself why someone would pay $55 for a bluegrass pass and then sit in the beer garden and talk.

Lots of people were looking over there unhappily so I suspect they’ll rearrange next year.

We had a good time and heard lots of great music. Today I’m still trying to get organized whatever that means. I’m making progress. I got the paper edition of the newsletter done. I used Illustrator this year which made it a lot easier. If you’re an experienced InDesign user you’re probably laughing right now but I don’t know how to use InDesign and it takes about 10 years off my life trying to figure it out on the fly, just for the newsletter. I didn’t process my text properly, as learned in class: don’t tell my teacher Nancy. I’m going to take to the printers tomorrow and get those in the mail next week. I also finished putting together a bunch of stuff I need to mail to people, another long procrastinated project. I thought I’d have time to watch a movie and hem my pants this afternoon but never got that far.

The weekend days always go by so quickly.

Tired On Fire
The 07 book page is up.

I finished a book this week and realized I had to make a new page. I just spent the last hour and a half dicking around with it and trying to do something arty with the banner and side photo. Sadly, my skill set still does not even meet the level of my primitive artistic ideas. Here’s the part where I normally say, I’ll fiddle with it more later but I doubt that will happen so instead I’ll say, I meant to do it that way.

Yesterday was my first normal Friday in awhile so I seized the opportunity to do a bunch of errands and chores.

After dinner I felt really tired so I figured I get into bed a little early and read. Outside it was dark and windy. Rain whipped against the window. What could be better than curling up under the covers?

Except the clock said: 7:30pm.

There’s no way that could be right. I couldn’t be read for bed that early. I checked another clock. Nope, I was ready for bed at 7:30pm. I bravely kept the light on until 9pm although couldn’t tell you with any accuracy what I read about.

Naturally I woke up at 5am. Too bad we don’t have any cows to milk.

This morning we’re doing a quick trip to the market and picking up our vegetables and this afternoon/evening is bluegrass.

A Few More Things Because I Keep Getting Distracted
I found a whole bunch of articles about having your domain hijacked for spam here. Sadly, it’s not uncommon and it looks like not a whole lot I can do, especially since I don’t want to invest much energy into it. The 50 + mailer-daemons per login is growing very old although also entertaining because half of them are from other countries like this subject line: MANCATA CONSEGNA: L’utente progettohspr (progettohspr@progetto.net) non è elencato nella Rubrica

If, like me, one of you favorite expressions is “smells like ass,” you should drop everything and read this. (The part that comes after the Winnie the Pooh stuff.)

Omigod, I drank tea with regular caffeine this morning. My regular caffeine intake is about: nothing. I don’t know how you people do this every day. I feel all shiny and jittery and like I’m about to blast off. I’m thinking of drinking a downer tea to see if it will counteract it.