You're Doing It Wrong

Jeez, that Heroes season finale was doo-doo. I’ve been tempted to log on to a fan chatboard and see how my opinion stacks up against the masses but I’ve already spent 23 hours with this show. Now I’m done with it. But the water cooler crowd agrees: Huge Let Down.

We’re back. Really we were back late Sunday night and I expected to get my act together yesterday for my epic weekend post but, big surprise, I never got to it and now I’m back to the grind so we’ll see. It’s not even so much the writing (although I barely took any notes so either it’ll be short or I’ll make a lot up) as the photos.

For me, the plain old tweaking and cropping takes forever and can get tedious. Plus, I still haven’t figured out a system for my photos. I take zillions, delete few and just dump them on the hard drive. The extent of the system I use now involves giving the folders names that start with the year. For example, this trip will be called 07 Reno. But all the odds and ends photos I call “07 random stuff” and “07 scans and whatever” and “07 family and misc.” I can never find anything and when I start looking I get all distracted enjoying looking at photos.

The saddest part about all this is that I use the Adobe Creative Suite and it has all kinds of organizational features built in that I keep intending to learn. I have tutorials and demos bookmarked up the wazoo. Just never seem to get around to it.

We have a long weekend coming up and my spouse will be busy elsewhere. I have a plan for how I want to use all my wonderful time and I’m trying to keep it realistic and I don’t think Creative Suite is going to be on the agenda. All these great Photoshop/Illustrator skills that I now haven’t used for 4-5 months. (Well, I use Photoshop to do basic photo tweakage which means I’m an expert with about 3 features). Next time I fire up one of those programs to do something crazy it’s going to take me half a day to remember vectors and gradients and which palette does what.

Meanwhile, most of my shows are shutting down for the season. Tonight is the series finale of the best show on television, Veronica Mars, and yes Katie, I’ve been crying in my yerba mate non-stop since hearing the news. How come the well written shows seem to get the ax (e.g. Firefly, Wonderfalls, Studio 60)? However, I do want to cut back on TV watching next year and losing shows to cancellation works a lot better for me than quitting cold turkey. I’m strongly considering quitting Grey’s Anatomy. (Aside: ABC, your website is crap.) It seems to be getting exponentially stupider. I’m also on the fence with Heroes. But then there’s some new vampire show starting … hep.

I’m doing my usual pre-trip ritual of messing around and not packing or getting organized so I can be certain to be running around in a white heat at the last minute and berating myself for doing this every time.

Some of the garden bounty and a photo of the Portland’s finest sausage sandwich. Yum.

While I’m here, have I ever mentioned the thing about the phones at work? I’ve worked at the new firm two years now and I have no idea how my phone works other than make and receive calls. And I can transfer to a specific extension. I can’t program anything. There’s a feature called park that’s like hold only any extension can pick up. I can’t do it on my phone and I’ve been told it’s because I don’t have that button. Today I had to cover the reception desk at lunch. I’ve had to do this about three times and I spend the entire hour praying that the phone doesn’t ring. There was an important call expected and at least this time I recognized it and then I parked it and then my person wasn’t where he was supposed to be and then another incoming call came in. I’m in a 10 alarm panic. The attorney said to make sure not to lose that call so I didn’t the only thing I knew and prayed some more. It worked.

This has been a weird week. Every morning and at least once during the day I have to count on my fingers to figure out what day it is. The traffic has been strange. One morning the freeway onramp was completely backed up which usually means there’s a problem and better just sit back and hope for good radio tunes because it’s going to take forever. But once I was on the freeway it was smooth sailing all the way into town.

It’s been sunny and warm and once night I even left the windows open a little crack. I spotted a couple roses out front and one in back plus blooming rhodies that need to be photographed and shared.

Tuesday night we went to see Sherman Alexie read at Powell’s books. If you ever have the opportunity to see him read, please do whatever it takes and go for it. He’s really wonderful and hilarious. Bob and I have seen him at least a half dozen times and have enjoyed him every time. In fact, I think among our first dates was a trip to see Sherman speak. If you’ve never read one of his books, I’d start with The Lone Ranger and Tonto Fistfight in Heaven. It’s good stuff.

There are some clothing items I’m thinking about buying online. I want some cheapo comfortable bras for summer. The kind that you can wear under a t-shirt and do the gardening or sports or whatever and they get all sweaty and gross and you can just chuck them in the wash and when they’re all twisted out of shape after the summer you don’t feel bad about tossing them because they were so cheap. This is in contrast to the work clothes bras that have all the expensive infrastructure to keep the old girls propped up during the day.

(That comment about doing sports is a joke because I don’t think I’ve ever done sports in my life outside of P.E. class in middle school. I can’t catch or throw and I don’t like to have people watch me while I try to hit something or aim something and I don’t like to push people around so I can win things. I don’t understand doing sports casually for recreation.)

Online clothing sites usually have some sort of fitting chart and I had my measuring tape and calculator and protractor and quadratic equation reference tome out and worked away and using the formula calculated that I’m a zero cup. I guess I should get some help using the protractor.

I think my perfect bra size is 35 with a B½ cup. Too bad that’s not a choice.
With yoga clothes I’m a big small or a small medium meaning I either have to squish in like a sausage or worry about my size zero boobs flopping around.

We’re heading off to Reno for a big family party extravaganza which should be filled with merriment and large quantities of refreshing adult beverages and toasty warm weather. My horoscope (Capricorn) says it’s time for life to overflow with rewards and I think it means karmic, which is fantastic, but maybe some gambling rewards, too.

For years and years I answered the phone at the old office.

Someone phones and asks for the attorney, the attorney is not in, I convey this information and offer to take a message. Person leaves message. When available attorney checks messages and returns call.

These days I take fewer incoming calls but when I say the attorney is not in, virtually every caller asks: Is there any way I can get ahold of him?

Really? The type of law we practice very rarely involves emergency situations. Unless someone’s got a kidney on ice or a man with a hood is 60 seconds away from flipping the switch on the electric chair what’s wrong with leaving a message? And like I’m going to freely give out cell numbers anyway.

If he’s not in the office, it’s generally not because he’s sitting around somewhere watching sports or working on his tan. He’s on a plane, or in a meeting, or talking to clients who would like his attention right now.

One time someone phoned in a dither because she needed to order his lunch for a meeting later in the week. This gave me the opportunity to work out my secret inner hostility against lawyers by ordering the diet plate. “No, he doesn’t touch carbs. Green salad with lemon. Thanks!”

A couple of weeks ago we had an amazing thunder shower with deluge of hail. It was the kind of storm that everyone talked about for days.

For the past couple of years I’ve worked in a tall building on the 18th floor. I grew up in earthquake country so there’s a part of me that believes being in a tall building is wrong but I have to admit, I enjoy the view. My office faces north and I can see the river and lots of bridges and a preview of my commute home before I head out the door.

It was amazing to watch the storm move across the sky and the thunder and lightning felt like it was right above my head. From up here the hail looked like very heavy rain. From what I heard, people on the ground said it was pretty crazy. I’m not feeling particularly poetic at the moment so you’ll have to take my word for it, it was cool.

As a kid, thunder and lightning terrified me and this fear lasted long after I should have outgrown it. Once, in Orleans, there was a 10 star, theater in the round thunder and lightning extravaganza. I was in my twenties. While a part of me enjoyed the amazing scene, the rest of me was still that little kid with the trembling knees wishing it would all be over.

My boyfriend, thinking if I was better informed I’d be less afraid, asked me if I knew what thunder was. “Yes,” I said, and then realizing that I’d probably learned this from a cartoon or something I mumbled, “It’s when two clouds bump together.”

I’m not afraid anymore (we rarely get thunder showers) but if a flash and/or rumble wakes me in the middle of the night my heart will pound a little.

When I was little my Grandma and Grandpa had a record with a rain storm on it. I wish I could remember better because maybe there was music, too. But there was the sound of rain and then a rumble of thunder which would always make me shiver. And then at the end a long lonely whistle from a train.

Yay. One project off the list.

All the winter clothes and accessories have been moved to the back of the closet or stored in a plastic bin. I even found a winter hat that I misplaced back in January.

The summer stuff, what little there is, is clean and ironed. I do this thing where I think I will toss old cruddy stuff next year after I buy new stuff to replace it. Then next year rolls around and I don’t get around to replacing anything and I end up using the old stuff thinking it’s good enough and I’ll get around to buying new stuff later. Then at the end of the season I think, well, now I should buy cheap clearance stuff for next year since all this old stuff is way beyond its expiration date. But I never get around to it and end up getting by with the old stuff.

I like new things. I just hate shopping.

I also packed up some stuff to go to the donation bin. I have a hard time with this. Some stuff I hate to part with because it was a gift even if I don’t like it, it’s not my style or doesn’t fit me. Other stuff is in fine condition and it seems a shame to get rid of it but I don’t love it because it doesn’t feel good to wear it or whatever. Who can explain why you just don’t like certain clothes?

I saw this sticker on a car downtown on the day I was walking to the farmer’s market. Remember the day I was extra cranky?

It felt like a message for me.

I’d also like to report that I saw Mr. Heron again yesterday morning so either there are more than one flying around downtown or he forgot something and had to run back home to get it.

This is another good one I saw at the library this morning. I love the library. I returned a bunch of books that I didn’t even read or feel bad about. That’s my personal growth mission for the summer. Learning to put books back without guilt.

I finally started that closet organizing project that I’ve been talking about and I’ve done the part where I’ve taken a bunch of things out and placed them in strategic piles around the bed and floor so now I’ve got a giant mess. I knew it was a mistake to come here and just check my mail for a second and see what’s accumulated in the google-reader, and oh, how about a quick blog post and then check the bank balance and maybe take care of that gift I need to buy.

I’m leaving now.

When I’m extra hormonal (really, you didn’t notice the all-whine super cranky format of the last few days?) I become psychotic about personal space.

I’m a nut about personal space on a good day anyway but yesterday I went to the Farmer’s Market to get my sausage, I’ll have to take a picture of this sandwich one day because it’s the best food ever and I don’t love meat, and there was this mouth-breather in line behind me crowding my space. He was so close he could have dipped my hair in his coffee.

It was a nice day. This is a friendly town. In a normal world I would have struck up a conversation with the guy about the sunshine and long line and how life-changing these sausages are. Instead, I stood there grinding my teeth and thinking evil thoughts about his damp breath on my neck.

Oh well, I won’t bore you with the details but I think the mood will be changing here shortly and not a moment too soon.

I’ll end this on a more positive note. I’m no bird expert but there is what I believe is a Blue Heron that lives downtown. Who knows the habits of the heron, this isn’t the Discovery Channel, maybe there are more than one. But at least once or twice a week in the early morning I see it flying through downtown and sometimes it passes right by my window. I can’t possibly convey what an amazing sight it is to see this enormous bird float by so gracefully. Fabulous photo, not by me, here.