The Heat

My home range has been reduced to the area of a double bed. Like everyone else in Seattle, I can't handle the heat. This means we are confined to our basement room with ceiling fan on high, venturing out only to grab cold liquid or popcicles from the sauna upstairs.

Banshee is the only one who remains on the top floor proving how deeply disturbed she is. Banshee is a black cat with developmental issues, her current MO is laying in the hottest part of the house in direct sunlight mewwing intensely as if to say, "HELP I'm BOILING." And while I would love to help, I refuse to lock her in a nice cool space if all I get for it is some scratches and fur cloud large enough to black out Corpus Christi. Suffer, little dumb one, suffer.

Cutting the Fat

Cake gone and flowers out. Saving about 500 dollars. Not bad. Instead there will be cupcakes and with any luck I won't be thrown in the slammer on my wedding day for stealing the hydranges from the neighbor, "That would be something BORROWED officer."

Here's hoping Matilda learns to walk in 52 days.

TMI

There is an expiration date on the human body, we all know this, literature is written about our mortality. There are paintings, songs, yachts for the psychoanalyst. The much less discussed, “best if used by” is the date that most consumes me these days. I believe mine has come and gone...likely some time in April or May of 2009.

Since that date, I have been hit with a massive flu that took about 4 weeks to fully recover. Follow that up with a crushing depression that must be hormone related but it comes at the wrong time of my cycle. Began having joint pain regularly. Got a case of the yeasties and now to top it all off i have a lump in my breast.

FU forty. FU and the horse on which you ride.

Shake the Baby

A friend reminded me that this blog exists. Turns out since its inception I have my very own baby to shake...don't worry I use this. M has been around for about 7 months now and lucky us she was a sleeper from the start, so I have to say the whole baby things appears to be easy cheesy from my POV (waiting for anvil to fall on my head).

The hardest part is letting go of the freedom. I miss being able to do what I want when I want. Life is still possible it just requires a lot more coordination. And if coordination isn't possible I just slip in elements of my past life packaged up in 15 minutes increments throughout the day. Who knew that a taking dump would be viewed as a bit of a break? Throw in the new Maker or VF and it's a freaking spa day.

I suppose I should say I wouldn't change a thing and mostly that is true. Still I wish someone would invent a baby storage locker. I mean they are just sleeping its a sort of suspended animation, why not use that time for a little adult recreation? Perfect time for a cocktail and a show. What they don't know can't hurt them right?

Oh the pressure.

My weekly trips to the grocery store always include the great hunt for sales on meat, stocking up on bubbly water and the purchase of a modest amount of fresh vegetables.

Vegetables generally purchased are broccoli, romaine lettuce, string beans, english peas (in season), radishes and scallions along with carrots and celery when necessary. Occasionally there will be a kale or squash product that makes the cut.

Lately I've noticed that none of these are being eaten. I open the fridge and avoid eye contact with anything green or leafy.

This morning I believe I saw an ear of corn mock me from the depths of decomposing murk.

Send Pinkie Right Over

I am a huge fan of public art.  San Francisco has some of the most beautiful murals just hanging out in various nooks and crannies.  When I lived there I went on a bike tour of the mission to see some of the most stunning homages to society ever made. Diego has a couple, but they are tucked neatly away in buildings. My personal favorite is the Woman's Building on 18th. The entire exterior of this four story building interweaves common female archetypes in a colorful cyclone of movement and wisdom.  The first time I saw it was after it's restoration in the late 90s.  I just stood across the narrow alley breathing in the waves of civic responsibility endowed to me by the artists.

In Seattle we have a sculpture garden, I haven't officially visited, but there is a giant rolly eraser just off Elliot that makes me giggle each time I pass it.  And I was dumb founded by the Yellow Arrow Project based in New York City where people posted yellow stickers with numbers on them.  If you found one, you text the number to yellow arrow and back would come the posters composition regarding that space, building or view.

I've wanted, for quite some time, to create something, perform something or build something of a public nature.  I have lots of ideas but I've got a motivational disorder, ha!  But yesterday, I had the best time ever when a group of friends and I played a spontaneous game of Red Rover in old Ballard outside of Kings Hardware.

Since we are not allowed to smoke in bars anymore, we were gathered outside the building chatting and smoking.  I started "popping and locking" (in a way that proves my severe lack of popping and locking know-how) for the people sitting in the window.  This some how became a group activity and without prompting quickly evolved into the linking of hands and the school yard chant, "Red Rover Red Rover send Checkered Shirt right over"  This request was sung out to complete strangers has they walked down the sidewalk.  Some would walk around, but the vast majority heard the call, set their mark and dashed into our linked arms.  Grown adults, men and women.  

The best part was, of course, our ability to  block even the most  aggressive attempt thus maintaining our undefeated status...  really it was the recognition in peoples eyes when they heard of call.  You could almost see the memories fire up and the complete joy grade schoolers seem to have cornered the market on, surge through the body as our competitors took flight.

I highly recommend the activity to you all.

Nothing in Life is Free

I really hate cellphone companies. Why is it that we have to buy new phones every freaking year? I've had Cingular forever since I get this awesome corporate discount. Basically I get 700 anytime minutes, two lines, free calling after 9 and free mobile to mobile and I pay 50 bucks a month. I'm not a big phone talker, so this is a good deal for me and my mom, who, by the way is still afraid to use the cellphone too much. She calls me everytime she's been on the phone for more than 10 consecutive minutes talking with my aunt on a weekend who is also on our network...sigh.

So Cingular buys AT&T and then they become the NEW AT&T and now they want me to upgrade my network becasue, get this, it's faster. Faster? Yes, faster. So, I can hear people faster? On the phone? Faster.

Um okay, so what do I have to do? Well, sign up for another two years, pay MORE money and we will make you pay for incoming text messages, how's that? uh...I'm thinking no. But explain how this is good for me again?

It's Faster.

Right. I'm hanging up now.