A thing that annoys me and a thing that charms me

1. Mormons that are somehow unable to give thanks for RAIN in their prayers. If I hear one more person appreciate the "moisture" I am going to scream and charge out the door of the chapel. I will not wait for the amen.

2. Actually owning The Color Red and The Lost Year by Andrew Rose Gregory. New quiet time music!

DID YOU KNOW THAT...

When you finish loading the dishwasher and start it, then turn around to find a peanut buttery knife in the newly emptied sink, it usually isn't who you think it is? Today I learned the truth about the mystery knife user.

It's Satan, trying to get you to fight with your housemates.


NOW YOU KNOW.

Things I am in Love with recently

My new perfume! I finally moved away from vanilla, and got two great smells for myself. One is Pure Grace (it's all over the internet, I think, or was several years ago at least), which makes me smell kind of like laundry, and the other is Harajuku Lovers Lil' Angel, which reminds me of pineapple and a bunch of other stuff (Plus! It comes in the coolest bottle with a doll for a lid).

My laptop-using spot, on my stomach on the floor with my banjo stand right in front of my face. I'm still getting over my cold (argh, it's been a whole month now) and when I sneeze my banjo reverberates and makes fun noises in sympathy.

My yellow earrings that I bought a few weeks ago. They're big and yellow and go really well with purple sweaters.

I got to sit between a bass and a tenor in sunday school today. Not only are they amazing singers, but they were also the two most attractive men in the room. Don't know how I worked that.

My newly nail-less big toe. You're so cute with your nail-shaped indentation and leftover cuticle! Since the nail came off all in one piece, I'm thinking of turning it into a banjo/guitar pick. What better material to make one out of than a human nail?

Perhaps two hours at the bookstore is inadvisable

1. Why can't I find a good photography book that tells me just what I need/want to know? Please don't condescend (Photography for Dummies and Grandmas!), please don't be a users manual (I already got that with the camera), please don't be like from the early eighties with the haircuts in the example photos to prove it. All I want is something to explain what the mechanics of things are (please tell me about shutter speeds and aperture and how to mess with exposures) and also some helpful composition tips (maybe I need to take a class for this kind of thing. Theory of Making Things Look Good 101, perhaps). I do not need a book that includes a chapter on how to choose the right point-and-shoot for you. That is a waste of pages and I don't really feel like buying ten pages worth of book that I will not read. I ended up getting The Photography Bible by Daniel Lezano, because it is pretty dang close to what I'm looking for. Looking through it again now, after purchasing it, I'm happier than when I picked it up in the store. Good.
2. I think that there is something wrong with bookstore culture? sociologists? the buyers for national bookselling giants? me? I guess what I'm trying to say is that out of the whole shelf full of books in the section marked Sociology, not one of them appealed to me, even though it is the field that I chose to earn a degree in, and I truly do enjoy the field. I suppose there's a difference between academic Sociology with a capital S, and pop sociology sold to middle-aged ladies who quit college after getting their Associate's degree and never looked back. It's just a bigger difference than I thought it was. Again: is it too much to ask? Can we not have both academic and pop literature in the same bookstore? Must we dumb ourselves down for the masses?
3. So many freaking journals! Blank books of so many shapes and sizes! How much do they think people are writing anymore? Granted, the average person today probably records more of their thoughts for the enlightenment of others than the average person of ten or twenty years ago, but I am certain that over 97% of that is happening online, and not in journals. So either (a) I am wrong, and there are legions of people there still keeping Old-Tyme handwritten journals, (b) I am right, and there are a bunch of bookstores across the country with ten years' worth of journals in stock, or (c) people are buying journals for themselves and their friends, but then never actually using them. Depending on how long These Troubling Economic Times last, the empty journals could be made useful by burning them to heat houses and cook dinners.

At least I did find them

The other day as I was riding my bike into work, I had my purse, several hair ties, a year-old newspaper, a banjo capo, some antibiotics, a headlamp, a bottle of honey and a loaf of bread in my bike bag.

And yet somehow, my debit card and driver's license were missing for almost a week before I found them tonight under a pile of clothes in my bedroom. Perhaps now is the time for, if not a Spring Cleaning, then at least a Spring Organizing.

I want some cheese with my whine

Really? Am I really (really) that disconnected from every other human being? I'd say from all the other human beings on the face of the planet, but you have to account for those guys up in the space station, too.

When you wanted quiet and focus in the office, I wanted to fidget with anything, with everything, on your desk.

When you wanted to go out for mid-afternoon ice cream all I wanted to do was work on the project and get it done already.

When you were driving home from work with your fiance I was sitting in my office weeping ugly tears alone.

When you were talking about the Rain Man I wanted to talk about Fahrenheit 451, but I didn't.

When you were talking about autism and social cues and stemming I wanted to bring up Oprah neurons, but I didn't.

When you wanted to sing that Celine Dion/Barbara Streisand duet I wanted to bray like a donkey, and then maybe sing an Irish drinking song instead.

When you brought up the Age of Innocence I almost told you about A Room With a View and Where Angels Fear to Tread, but you changed the subject too fast.

When you were talking about your sweet husband and your sweet son and your exciting pregnancy all I could think about was how you smelled like hair products and how I never smell like that and how maybe you always smell that way. Maybe all normal women smell that way and that's maybe why I'm not married with a son and a pregnancy of my own, is because the men can smell that my hair isn't styled and therefore my hair (and the rest of me, by default) is unmarriageable.

How can everyone else in the world just live their lives like normal when I alone am so put upon? How?

Favorite Moments in 2009

• Making it through the first year at my job. Not only did I not get fired during the first year, but I also didn't quit! I think that's a hurrah.
• Making my first cheese. It was a cheddar.
• We made the move back from an apartment to a house. With a backyard! Putting up the Christmas lights on our house made me happy.
• Traveling with my friend Cammie. I keep needing to pinch myself to remember that this most fabulous of women is actually my friend. San Diego, Los Angeles, Barcelona, Madrid, Lisbon.
• Seeing Ira Glass. I felt kind of grownup, paying to see a man tell stories I could've just listened to on the radio for free. I liked it.
• Hurrah, two weeks with Krista.
• I can overcome physical challenges! 80 miles on a bike, 14 miles on a hike. Maybe in 2010 I will learn to overcome these challenges with some shred of grace and dignity. Bring it on, 2010!

This Book is Exploding my Mind

From Nerds: Who The Are and Why We Need More of Them by David Anderegg:

The nerd/geek stereotype assumes, in its very essence, that nerds and
geeks, those who are "born to" a passion for precision, are somehow inhuman or
sick. But of course Melnick's work suggests an alternative explanation:
Nerd-labeled kids are those who have not had the indoctrination about the "cold
hard world" and the "warm soft mommy." These may be kids who have been lucky
enough to feel nurtured by precision, by exactitude, by detail, the ones who
have a warm, soft mommy (or daddy) whose favorite exciting thing to do with them
is not to cuddle up and make up stories but to look things up in a dictionary,
read the encyclopedia, or construct a machine and make it work. The degree of
brainwashing to which we have been subjected by our metaphoric entailments is
apparent when we think about the unlikeliness of this picture. But it is not
impossible; it happens all the time in nerd-labeled families. Perhaps we have
come to a time in human history when, as teachers and as parents, we need to
find a way to erase the distinction between the "cold hard world" and the "warm
soft mommy" once and for all, and impart the warmth and humanity of precision
and technology to our children.

Happy Saturday of equal parts housework, sleep, eating and loafing

I'm not usually a major fan of specific flash games- I like them well enough as a slack-jawed time-waster and something to keep me from thinking too much, but I've never really thought, "wow, that game is really well designed and challenging to my intellect."

Until last night, when I came across this game, via Kottke.org, and became so addicted that I fell asleep in the middle of a level, sitting in our living room chair, and woke up at 5:40 in the morning, computer still on my lap, lights still on.

You should try it. I've gone through all the levels once now, and I've got a feeling that although I found some pretty creative ways to get through each level, there's a lot more possibilities.

Vague Feelings of Discontent and What the Heck am I Doing with my Life

Also, Is This the Way It's Supposed to Be?

I was talking to my boss today (who else would I talk to?) and he was chastising me for something that plenty of other people have chastised me for, but something that really isn't hurting anyone so LAY OFF, PEOPLE, when he did some quick mental arithmetic about the amount of time a regular office-working type person spends awake and asleep at home. He came to the conclusion that most people only average about 3 awake-time hours per workday at home. I think he's overestimating the amount of time people spend sleeping, so I'd probably up that to around 5 hours per day, if you don't go out or do anything else after work.

Either way, this seems somehow wrong. Why is it that the place where we "live" is only a place where we stop by for a few hours a day? Shouldn't Home be the place where we spend the most time? Again, maybe I'm way off base here. Perhaps I have a weird, idealized 50's version of reality in my head and I don't really know what I'm talking about.

Perhaps I should just sleep less.

Favorite parts of the Sunday after Thanksgiving

Did you know that NOW IS THE TIME for Christmas music? I spent so much of my day today with Christmas music. And it's wonderful!

1. Wake up and take a shower. Listen to Christmas music in the shower.

2. Go to church. Oddly, no Christmas music there. We still seemed to be in Thanksgiving-land, as far as hymns were concerned.

3. Stay after church for choir practice. Christmas cantata!

4. Go home to make delicious leftover-turkey soup. Christmas in my iPod and my headphones!

5. Go to a different singing group (not choir) rehearsal. Christmas music that's kind of hard to learn. Also lots of laughing and giggling and weird-noise-making and other juvenile things. Because we're classy dudes and dames.

Although this was a great day, and there should probably be more days like it in my life, I think I might need to take a step back and pace myself. I've still got a hefty three and a half weeks to go, here.

Favorite parts of the Saturday After Thanksgiving

1. Burritos for dinner! No turkey at the table.

2. Hanging Christmas lights on my house. We are cheery!

3. Pulling massive Weeds From Mars out of our side yard and stripping all of their leaves off into the compost heap. Some of them were taller than me.

Gasp! Is America better than Canadia?

I think that perhaps the best part of Thanksgiving is that night, after you've stuffed yourself full, and you're sitting there on the couch, watching a movie or reading a book, and you get that sudden rush of happiness when you realize that... the next day is FRIDAY.

If I hadn't been full to the point of exploding, I would have jumped up and done some gleeful capering at that moment.

As much as I love Canada, this is one area where America has them beat: we were wise enough to put our Thanksgiving on a Thursday, giving us a nice four-day weekend. Take that, you Monday-Thanksgivingers!

Quick addition to my Christmas List

The Color Red by Andrew Rose Gregory. He just changed his website around so you can't just listen to the whole album. Sigh.

Giving Thanks and the Airing of Grievances

Things that are great:

My family, even though they criticize me

Sour Patch Kids, even though they give me cavities

My job, even though it's driving me to an early grave or an asylum

My neat body that can do things like bake bread and ride bikes all over creation, even though I could kill my elbow right now (if it doesn't kill me first)


Things that kind of suck:

The timing of life in general-- why is it that you can never have leisure, youth, and money all at the same time?

Our dumb internet connection at home-- we are paying you people money so that we can connect to the internet, so why is it that we have issues with people unintentionally kicking each other off the wireless connection every single day?

Food-- why must it be at the same time so delicious and so fattening?

My skin-- how is it that some parts of me (forehead, armpits) can have so much moisture, when other parts of me (elbows, knees, heels) are drier than the Sahara?

This is my Grown-Up Christmas List

Please buy me:

1. A black French Bulldog that I can name Rufus Wainwright.

2. A VPU? We've got this wall in our house that would be great to project things like The Endless Summer and Muppets From Space onto. This might also require some sort of speaker setup, though.

3. Some ulcer medication, because I'm definitely going to need it by the time Christmas rolls around.

4. Terrible Earrings to strike fear into the hearts of my enemies and desire into the hearts of the men around me.

5. A day at the spa or something.

6. A portrait of Hippy?



Please don't buy me:

1. The Planet Earth series. Amazon was selling it for $30 today and I couldn't resist.

2. Long-john-looking pajama bottoms. I've got enough of those. Slacks-shaped flannelly pj bottoms are welcome, though.

3. Non-Terrible Earrings

Things You Can Sit On (alternately, things that can be flushed)

A toilet

Your car's radiator

An embarrassed person

Your liver

A surprised game fowl

Say What?

Last night one of my roommates interrupted my story of the race to ask what the word gump meant. I gave her my "are you really that dumb" look that I probably use too often (and probably should work on not giving anymore), and explained what it meant.

Then I saw Canofjam's comment, pondering on the same word. I generally give her more credit on those kinds of things, so I started to wonder. Maybe this word isn't as well-known as I thought it was.

I checked The Internet.

Nothing.

Crap.

I googled "gump." Lots of Forrest Gump references and Return to Oz references, and even one for Weird Al.

I googled "gump definition." All I got was about dunces and oafs. Even the slang dictionary only gave that definition.

Huh.

I started writing this post up, shaking my head and wondering what other fake words my family has taught me, what other family folklores there are that I think are universal but really don't make sense to anyone else.

I tried The Internet once more. I googled "gump toilet."

Ah Hah! Southern California company that rents out portable toilets. Andy Gump Toilets. The world starts to make sense again, why my friends wouldn't know the word that is a solid, if not integral, part of my language.

For all you non-Southern Californians out there, a gump is a portable toilet. I guess Port-a-Potty is a less regional name for it that people might know.

So now you know.

Now I have to go see about the clothespin on your mother-in-law's tongue.

I saw it on my bike today: Race Day Version

Spandex butt
Spandex butt
Spandex butt
Spandex butt
Spandex butt
Spandex butt
Spandex butt
Spandex butt
Spandex butt
Spandex butt
Spandex butt
Spandex butt
Spandex butt
Spandex butt
Spandex butt
Spandex butt
Spandex butt
Spandex butt
Spandex butt
Spandex butt
Spandex butt
Lady getting ready to flash someone from the side of the road
Spandex butt
Spandex butt
Spandex butt
Spandex butt
Spandex butt
Spandex butt
Spandex butt
Spandex butt
Spandex butt
Spandex butt
Spandex butt
Spandex butt
Spandex butt
Spandex butt
Spandex butt
Spandex butt
Spandex butt
People holding trays full of bananas and watermelon and creepy PBJ's
Gumps
Spandex butt
Spandex butt
Spandex butt
Spandex butt
Scary crash a few yards ahead of me
Spandex butt
Spandex butt
Spandex butt
Spandex butt
Spandex butt
Spandex butt
Spandex butt
Spandex butt
Spandex butt
Spandex butt
Spandex butt
Aid station with people I know. Brusquely happy talking.
Spandex butt
Spandex butt
Spandex butt
Spandex butt
Spandex butt
Spandex butt
Spandex butt
Spandex butt
Spandex butt
Spandex butt
Spandex butt
Spandex butt
Spandex butt
Spandex butt
Spandex butt
Spandex butt
Spandex butt
Spandex butt
Spandex butt
Spandex butt
Spandex butt
Spandex butt
Dad's cell phone falling to the ground
Cyclist face
Cyclist face
Cyclist face
Battered cell phone
Spandex butt
Spandex butt
Spandex butt
Spandex butt
Spandex butt
Spandex butt
Spandex butt
Spandex butt
Spandex butt
Spandex butt
Spandex butt
My bicycle's computer falling to the ground
Dad riding against the current to get my computer
Spandex butt
Spandex butt
Spandex butt
Spandex butt
Spandex butt
Spandex butt
Spandex butt
Spandex butt
Spandex butt
Spandex butt
Spandex butt
Spandex butt
Spandex butt
Spandex butt
Spandex butt
Spandex butt
Spandex butt
Spandex butt
Spandex butt
Spandex butt
Spandex butt
Spandex butt
Balloon archway
Dad's palm, ready for a finish-line high five

A la Mimi Smartypants

1. Today was some sort of Balloon Glow on campus that apparently was advertised more strongly at elementary schools than actually on campus. I saw the (in?)famous Remax hot air balloon and waded through a sea of bad-mannered pedestrians on my bike. I count the evening a success because I didn't run over or yell at any children or their parents, and also didn't get inconvenienced too much. Also, marching band music!

2. I am sad because although Breaking Away is probably the perfect thing to show in the historic theater the night before a bike race, many of the people who would want to watch it are wanting to rest up and prepare for their grueling day ahead. I wish I could go to the Theater, but I've got jerseys to wash. Hmph.

3. I heard one of the more awesome reggae songs on the radio tonight. I can't say for sure, but I would guess that it's called Free Marijuana. Some of my favorite lyrics: "the whole wide world, crying for ganja to be free!" and also the gem, "it's good for glaucoma!" Who can refute such well-stated platforms as those?

4. Ganja Tales! Sorry, I couldn't resist. From the reviews: "It's not solely a pot book- it's about universal human experiences," and "never trust a pit bull tripping shrooms."

5. I have begun the Christmas Shopping Process. The first thing I bought was actually something that I think will be perfect for the recipient, rather than my usual beginning-of-shopping experience where I go to the bookstore and wander around aimlessly, purchasing books that I think look cool and then trying to decide who to give them to afterwards (although that also happened tonight).

6. Probably my favorite part of my job is when I get to make updates to our website, and I sit there clicking Refresh over and over and over again until the changes take effect and I can see new stuff pop up where there wasn't stuff before. It's the little joys in life that make it worthwhile.

7. Pugs and Donuts!