Tuesday, January 30, 2007


I went to Macy's on my lunch break and bought a new pair of gloves. They were more expensive than my old ones. I bought my old ones at Costco, mens extra small in red. These are purple, one size fits most. The tag says they are mulberry/pomegranate, but my color-blind friend swears they're gray.

I ate too much for dinner and then I watched a movie with the cats, on the couch. Jer is on the east-side to meet a friend for drinks. I am listening to the litter robot spin.

There are more things on heaven and earth...

It has been nice to hear my thoughts, but now I think it's time to sleep. I have been getting flack for not returning to the gym. Maybe tomorrow is the day. I packed my gym bag, which is half the battle. The rest is up to my dark master.

just what is that shiny ball in the sky?

I'm drinking a zipfizz in hopes that I'll magically wake up. More than anything though, I want to go back to bed. I don't even care if I dream, I just want to close my eyes and pull the covers over my head. It's lunchtime and it's a beautiful sunny day, blue skies, chilly, but clear. I should go for a walk, but I'm afraid I'll be tempted to buy something.

I worked most of Saturday, and cooked all day Sunday. I made a spicy tomato soup (my first soup from scratch ever and boy was it tasty), a crock pot full of beans and turkey kielbasa, and a complicated salad involving red onions, celery, water chestnuts, peas, bacon, eggs, tomatoes, and cheese.

I should probably mention that Jer is between jobs right now and enjoying his severance package as well as the Burning Crusade. If you happen to know of any open SysAdmin type jobs in the Seattle area, please let me know. I'd be much obliged.

The only thing truly keeping me sane is how much I love living here. Every morning on the bus I watch the sun rise (or not rise) over the Duwamish, on clear mornings you can see Mount Rainier in silhouette, and the lights of industy glittering up and down the river in a pink haze... makes me wish I was a painter but I'm not, I'm not even sure my camera could capture it properly... That's what I see on the right side of the bus, the left side is the city, all the buildings clustered together against the clouds, past the train tracks and the viaduct... or the shipping yards with their huge ships in dry dock. In the distance, the Cascades, snow capped and obscured by clouds, always clouds.

I'm sort of wallowing in my own negativity right now, and I'm trying not to take it out on anybody else, but you know, I'm not perfect. Air is heavier than normal, steps are slower, colors damper. I carry the fog with me, like a pair of gloves or a hat. But like all fog and inclement weather, it's sure to pass if I wait it out. Or self-medicate.

Honestly I think it's the blue sky that's doing this to me. It's way too bright outside. And I don't trust it.

Thursday, January 25, 2007

As a protective mechanism I am trying not to think about anything. Sometimes I consult the stars and see what they have to say, or I put more faith in dreams than I should. None of it really helps; it's just an exercise. See, a lot is wrong right now. But even when things are wrong the rest of it doesn't stop. It just keeps going. And you either let it sweep you up or you raise your fist and say, No. No more. Let me off here. Sure, it keeps going, but it goes around you, and for a moment you have the choice between apathy and altering consequence.

Sunday, January 21, 2007

a dark and terrible secret

Now here's where I brag, and in the course of it, expose my shame to you fine people. I just bought myself a Le Creuset 9-1/2-Quart Oval French Oven, Blue. Well, not technically this one. The one I bought was from eBay.

This brings my total Le Creuset collection to the following:

I still covet a few items, such as the square skillet grill I have on back order and the tagine (which is better left coveted for now), but I can't wait to jump in and use everything. Unfortunately that means I have to learn how to cook at a higher level than Hot Pockets, Lean Cuisine, and spinach dip. To that end, as I quietly amass my collection of exciting and pretty blue cookware, I have also acquired a library of cookbooks ranging from easy to dangerous, as well as a sizeable backlog of "Good Eats" episodes. Here, I announce to you, that I will begin the arduous and painful journey of learning something new. Nay, embracing a wholly heretofore unrecognizable aspect of my character and accept the family legacy. I will cook. I will cook with my cookware. And it will be good.

I admit defeat, that free will is a sham, and the desire to stew and braise and sautee is encoded in the twisted fibers of my DNA, even as I fought it all those years, even as I lay down my apron and my spatula and deferred these skills to my sister, I secretly wished that *I* was the one roasting things and creating stock. But here I am, some subtle part, slowly and methodically purchasing the tools of my undoing. I wake to find a Salter digital food scale, a flour sifter, a food processor, even a rice cooker waiting patiently for me to rise to the challenge. Infecting my kitchen, like a chef's plague.

And here I am. Tricked into my birthright by a bunch of shiny, pretty things. Where will this madness end?

Saturday, January 20, 2007

October 2006, Moon rising behind Seattle skyline

November 2006, Snow in West Seattle

tired and one glove short

I'm glad glad glad the week is over. Don't get me wrong; it was fun. I learned a lot, I went places and did things I wouldn't normally do, but at the end I was tired. Tired and one glove short.

Along with the good things, there were some bad, like the morning I waited on the street, in the snow, for a bus that never came. (This is becoming a recurring theme which I could do without.) Although if you have to wait 45 minutes in the dark at 6:30am, you may as well do it when it's snowing since it can't be any prettier. Everything was white, my shoes crunched against the sidewalk, flakes clearly fell in the glare of the streetlights, and I stood there holding my umbrella and rubbed my hands together for warmth. Finally, I called my friend, who had given up on her bus already and was driving into work. She gave me a ride. But those 45 minutes will stay with me. The sound of snow hitting the umbrella, a different crunchier sound than rain, watching the cars fishtail down the street, or the lights of the city obscured by clouds, peeking in and out above the bay. Beautiful and cold, freezing actually, lights reflecting off the ground in an eerie yellow glow, and quiet.

I played darts, cricket, for the first time this week. And I won! I didn't even know I could hit a dartboard let alone get several bullseyes. Pool, I'm still not so good at, and bowling I love, but it's probably not my calling. I bowled a respectable 139, but in my salad days I could do better. In the before time, the long long long ago, I won hot dogs for my bowling victories. Maybe I was just missing that as an incentive and if I reintroduce that stimuli I will regain my ability to throw turkeys. Or maybe I just want a turkey hot dog for breakfast. The brain is a mysterious beast.

I'm not sure what the weekend holds. I may work from home, not sure I want to go in today. I may actually let Jer take me bookshelf shopping, or I might not do anything at all. The world is my turkey dog.

Sunday, January 14, 2007

You guessed it. More work. Spent a few hours there this morning. It feels apocalyptic to go in when no one else is around, like I'm the last one left just carrying on for the sake of carrying on.

Then I ate pizza, then I took a nap, then I watched the first episode of "Torchwood," which I enjoyed. I'm thinking of selling some books back or getting rid of extra action figures. Feels cluttered here. I own too many things.

I'm reading, "In Cold Blood." Maybe I'll go do that now.

Saturday, January 13, 2007

It's been snowing off and on all day, which is nice. I decided not to go into work after all, but I'll have to tomorrow. I left some stuff there I should probably retrieve, like my new soup pot just sitting on my file cabinet, waiting to be loved or souped or whatever it is you do with soup pots. It's Le Creuset. And it's so pretty.

Also, thanks to the magic of VPN, I was able to do a lot of my work from in front of the tv at my laptop.

In case you were wondering, still cold.

Not much else to report unless you want to hear about user guides. I'm thinking I'll roast some garlic and melt some brie. Seems like the thing to do.


It snowed a few days ago and it's been freezing ever since. Weather.com says it's 25 degrees, but feels like 16. Most of the snow is still out there; it hasn't been warm enough to melt. As for me, I've got a Chiana in my lap and am contemplating going back into work. That may however require coffee and will definitely require a shower. Maybe even a Lean Pocket.

I hung out with friends at Gameworks last night and then took a cab home. I had to convince the driver to take me all the way since conditions in parts of West Seattle are icy and his company had warned him not to go there. I assured him we were not going to an icy part -- we weren't -- and I tipped him well. I'm grateful it worked out because that was not a night for standing on a corner and waiting for a bus that might or might not show. I did that Tuesday night. My bus was 45 minutes late and I don't think I've ever been so cold. Had to make Jer pick me up. Still feel a little bad about that.

I've got a lot of stuff going on next week, which is only different than usual in that I will be away from my computer at training. Or possibly bowling. If I were a betting gal, I'd say blog content will continue to suffer. Of course that implies that sometimes it does not suffer, and frankly that would be a bold statement to make.

Thursday, January 11, 2007

Sunday, January 07, 2007

For the record I managed to get off my ass and stop complaining. I spent 2.5 hours at work, and the chapter I was worried about is almost done. So that's good. My head feels fuzzy and my neck hurts from holding it funny, but at least the urge to run far away (where the bad paperwork can't hurt me anymore) has subsided.

Time for laundry, I guess. Who said my life isn't glamorous? Because it's a thrill a minute, I tell you what.

I'm overwhelmed again. It comes and goes, this feeling that no matter where I start or when, the odds are already against me. I can't even enjoy my Sunday without thinking about everything I should be doing and what I'm not doing. So I open a blank screen and stare at it for awhile. I think maybe writing for myself may take the edge off, but instead I'm thinking about the chapter I need to fix in the guide I don't want to look at, and probably no one else will ever look at anyway so why bother.

Basically I'm feeling sorry for myself, which is stupid. Everything is fine, peachy keen, and dynamite. It's just the chemicals in my brain going a little haywire, forcing me into cram mode for self-preservation just like in school when I had a deadline I never thought I'd make but I always did. I work better under pressure... I'm usually half mad from stress and worry, but I work better. No question. More focused, disciplined, but the trade-offs are a bitch.

In college, usually at 4am, after a handful of 15 minute naps, at my laptop typing page 5 of 8, willing the essay into existence, books balanced in my lap, neck strained from reading and typing, empty soda cans on my desk and at my feet, the sun nearly back, the dining commons almost opened, bone weary and hopeless, that's when the magic happened.

No, sir. I don't miss those days at all.

On the bright side, at least I drink now. If anything's going to take the edge off, it's that.

Saturday, January 06, 2007

I am at work on a Saturday afternoon, enjoying the relative quiet, lack of ventilation and dim lighting. I am not so much enjoying the bagpipe sounds wafting up from the street, which are incessant and piercing. The sounds are penetrating a section of my brain that inspires anger and violent behavior, a feeling that is intensified by the amount of work I need to miraculously complete before an ambiguous date and thereby save the world.

For the same intolerance of sound, I gave up the piccolo one warm California afternoon. And by give up, I mean I hurled it across the room at my mirrored closet doors and never looked back.

Please Mr. Bagpipes, please stop. Or maybe? Nature? Could you rain a little and put out the flames of his enthusiasm? I have many more pages to go before I sleep...

Friday, January 05, 2007

there are bigger issues than me

but since it's so close it takes precedence

i swallow

i go to sleep

and my dreams poke until at 3am

i stumble to the sink for a glass of water

dark and quiet not even the cats are awake

i plug my phone into the wall and go back to bed

where the pillow jabs me in the spine

and i stare at the ceiling until

the sun shines

or the bus comes

whichever is first

and the first thing i think is


Monday, January 01, 2007


I made an excellent bowl of guacamole last night and if you're interested, here's what I did. Mashed 4 avocados, added diced onion, minced garlic (3 cloves), chopped jalapeno, fresh squeezed lime juice, and then stirred in about half of a Lawry's guacamole spice packet. I know spice packets are cheating but I don't care because it was so good. Also, Jer doesn't like tomatoes so I left them out, but normally I'd throw them in too.

We didn't do a whole lot for New Year's Eve. I made the nachos -- refried beans, ground beef with taco seasoning and onions, liquid cheese, shredded cheese, olives, sour cream, guacamole, jalapenos, two kinds of store bought salsa, and chips, lotsa chips -- and watched Law and Order: Criminal Intent. I fell asleep during the Metalocalypse marathon but Jer woke me up to watch the fireworks over the Space Needle. Fireworks are okay, but it's maddening to look down below and see all the people, driving crazy, stumbling around with bottles of champagne, shouting at the sky -- mostly because it's not me -- and the subsequent chaos of hundreds of cars (with semi-sober drivers) attempting to navigate the two lane street that runs along the water. Since I didn't want my new year to start off as a witness in a vehicular manslaughter trial, I called it a night after the fireworks and promptly fell asleep. Horns were still honking and girls were still puking as I drifted into dreamland.

Jer and I started talking about where we'd like to go on vacation this year. Guess we better start saving now. I have expensive tastes.