You're Doing It Wrong

Van Gogh Museum, Amsterdam

I finally got my World Cup Soccer Guy magazine. I went to about 7 different places before I found it. Around here you can find 100 golf, yachting, knitting and bridal magazines and NOT Vanity Fair with soccer guys in their underwear.

What a world.

It was worth it. Michael Ballack. Now that’s a man.

I never buy magazines like Vanity Fair anymore. A friend of mine was looking through the magazine and asked: What is this magazine about?

I said: buying stuff?

Do you have any idea how many kinds of luxury watches there are? Who is (are?) buying all these watches? Where do you even get them?

I thought watches were like newspapers and travel agents: only really old people use them these days.

Today I went to the mall.

Every time I go to the mall I remember why I never go to the mall.

I strolled by Old Navy which seemed to have a higher level of hysteria than normal. There was some sort of special on flip-flops. I think it was 5 pairs for $5. They had a nylon rope and a guy keeping people in line. I don’t know why anyone would want even one pair of flip-flops.

I was looking for some cute normal pants or a summer dress. I went into one department store. Shouldn’t the clothes be organized? In one area there would be petites, work clothes, clearance, clothes for old ladies going on a cruise, “women” (which confused me, aren’t we all women?) workout clothes, bathing suits and party dresses. Then in another area there would be more cruise clothes, work clothes, clearance dresses and pajamas. Shouldn’t they be grouped together in handy categories? I could never tell where I’d already been.

I came home exhausted. Also, our local mall smells like ass. Cinnabon flavored ass.

I was there for three hours and came home with a box of See’s Candy and three pairs of panties. Not my idea of a productive Saturday.

Last night I came home late and I was really grumpy. I found a cute love note next to my computer from my sweetheart.

“Stop messing with my bummer, man!” I shouted when I found it.

I didn’t get my tomatoes in the ground last weekend but I left them on the back porch to “acclimate.” Last night I brought them in so I could knit them sweaters.

What the hell Mother Nature?

Right now my desk is so covered in little notes and stupid problems to solve that I’m tempted to light it on fire.

But I won’t because it would be one more problem to solve.

Oh good, it just started hailing.

*sigh*

It’s just mocking me now.

I’ve become obsessed with snails and slugs.

I never had any snails until a couple of years ago.

Now they’ve sent word to their families about what a great place this is to live and they are herding in.

Whenever it rains I run out there with a bucket in the morning and evening and pick them. I finally figured out the problem with my pretty purply flowered plant that looked half dead. I pick six or seven snails off it every time.

No matter how many I pick, there are always more. Big giant ones.

Didn’t see it? How about now?

My next door neighbor mentioned that they were inundated, too, and he’d picked a giant bucketload.

Have we opened a portal from snail hell? I don’t know how to be any more unwelcoming.

And of course I read too many Stephen King stories when I was young and at night I can hear big giant ones crawling up the walls and coming to get me.

Tulalip Mugs

You can blame googleblogger for my complete lack of interest in posting. Every time I think about it I get mad again.

I used to use blogging to procrastinate from doing other things. Now I do just about anything to avoid the blog.

I decided to keep my bookblog with blogger and it can be found at pamrentz3.blogspot.com.

My book reading is all backed up again and I just bought another stack. I’m not sure what my strategy is.

From the front door

I was at the Tulalip Casino and Resort last week for a work related training.

I’d been told it was a nice place but I was still surprised. Bob came with me and he visited his old college campus while I learned.

The bathroom was larger than our room at the Citizen M in Amsterdam and I’d love to link to it but the archives are still farked up.

We also got to visit with family who live in the area.

I’m not a huge gambler but I took a lap of the casino floor which was pretty hopping for a Tuesday night.

There was a machine called Kitty Glitter that I said sounded like it would be the favorite of a 12 year old girl.

Bob won $40 on that machine.

Big fluffy bed. They have a turn down service with no chocolates. What’s the point?

I played the poker machine and won enough to keep me entertained and pay for my drink before I turned in.

The hotel lobby was amazing and I failed to get a decent photo. It was crammed with art in every corner.

There was a huge area with comfy couches and chairs and the best wifi I’ve ever had at a hotel.

We’ll be back.

Smoking Area at First Friday

On Friday we walked downtown to some sort of local festival. We were expecting more food but it was mostly just crafts and I’m not in the market for any crafts right now. It was nice to get out and walk around and of course Bob saw people he knew.

This blog thing/website is still an ongoing heartburn. I will never forgive googleblogger and I probably won’t stop complaining about it any time soon.

I can’t make it do anything I want it to do and every time I try I end up pulling half my hair out and then kicking a puppy in frustration.

Don’t worry Kira — kidding about the puppy.

My back feels better to about 90%. I did a bunch of yardwork yesterday and I’m headed back out there now. I put in the last of my dahlia bulbs. My berry patch is out of control. I’ve never gotten more than 3 tablespoons of berries and I’ve neglected them just as thoroughly this year as usual but there are flowers everywhere. The regular garden has some volunteers, I’m guessing sunflowers and another thing I haven’t identified yet but there’s a bunch of it so I hope it’s good.

@Brian’s used record store: the wall of cassettes.

I’m doing a training out of town for a few days so I’ll probably be offline most of the week.

Something that The Scorpions are up to.

I’ve been reading a ton of short fiction, especially different magazines. I’m trying to get a sense of markets and a sense of what’s being published.

I bought a magazine earlier in the week and when I was reading it on the bus, the pages were screwed up and I couldn’t finish the story. I switched to another story but the pages were still screwed up and I couldn’t finish that one either.

Today I went back to the store. I wasn’t a jerk at all. I showed them it was a printing error and asked if I could get another copy that wasn’t screwed up.

Further examination showed that every copy in the store was screwed up.

They weren’t exactly jerks but they weren’t apologetic either. I know it wasn’t their fault but I didn’t want a magazine where I couldn’t even read the stories.

They were like: well do you have the receipt? I guess we can process it as a return.

They gave me my money back. And that wasn’t even my goal. I would have taken a different fiction magazine at the same cost.

I was a little perplexed by their attitude. But I’d still go there again.

March 2010, Garmisch-Partenkirchen

Hey cool. I did something different and now I have a big giant window for my post. I can’t wait until I have oodles of time to kill and learn my way around this thing. Lynda.com here I come. Except I’m not going to have oodles of time probably ever but especially not in the next few weeks. I am so overwhelmed by my calendar I could weep. Bob mentioned one more thing we could do and I had to leave the room.

March 2010, Garmisch-Partenkirchen

On Sunday I tweaked my back. Doing yoga. Not even doing anything fun. Just easy things to get warmed up. I’m not even sure what I did.

It seems like I do a major back tweak every couple of years but this one is uniquely horrible. If I move in the just the right combination I can barely breathe. Getting around during the day isn’t too bad but at night it gets all stiff and I have to psych myself up just to roll over. This morning I walked down the hall hunched over like a woman twice my age, grunting instead of exhaling.

March 2010, Garmisch-Partenkirchen. A man with a beard saw me taking pictures and kindly introduced himself and told me he was a local tour guide. He wanted to make sure I didn’t miss the “golden roof” and then went on his way.

Meanwhile I can’t seem to cross one single thing off my list.

Our kitchen sink faucet was screwy so I bought a new doohickey and it didn’t work so then I bought another one that did work. But it eventually broke so I bought another one and it didn’t work and then I bought another one and it works but it makes a really annoying sound. And my mother’s day present is going to be late. And how come I can’t find regular brown socks at Target? The one pair in a pack of 6 different colors does not count. I don’t want black, grey, purple, blue or yellow. I want brown socks.

When I sat down I thought I was going to be able to weave all this whining into something but I seem to have failed and I really need to get to work.

Look gross or look good? It’s like a trainwreck. You can’t stop eating even though you know you should. My digestive system wasn’t sure what to think.

I have scribbled notes all over my desk that I can’t understand. One item says “side window mark”. I have no idea what that means.

Timbers friendly game last night with a Costa Rican club team. There were louder cheers for the Puntarenas goals than there were last week when the Vancouver Whitecaps were in town.

Now I’m finally got this thing back up and I’m too preoccupied to post.

I have a vague memory of someone talking about wanting to read Lynda Barry, Cruddy. I remember thinking, I used to have that book. Well, I found it. If you want to read this book you can have my copy, Drop me a note at pam(at)pamrentz(dot)com.

For the record: I am a huge Lynda Barry fan. She can do no wrong but I violently hated this book and was surprised to find I still had a copy. In fact I found a whole box of books I didn’t know I had when I did the garage cleaning.

Timber Joey talking to a kid with a green mohawk with Timber Army in the background.

Why does WordPress give me this eeny teeny box to type my post in and then cram the rest of the screen with a bunch of worthless crap?

Looks like the feeds are working and whew! because I’m already bald and can’t afford to pull out anymore hair.

It’s hard not to suspect Saint Max is fixing it behind the scene somewhere because he doesn’t want one more hysterical email with the words “I don’t understand what XXX means” about 10 times.

In my follow up survey I told them to increase his ration of Mountain Dew and Twizzlers. I hope they listen.

As far as I can tell the feeds don’t show up and I don’t have 3 seconds of patience left to figure it out.