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July 30, 2007
If the Police Are Here, It Must Be Monday
There's nothing quite like seeing an officer creeping through your back yard with his weapon drawn as he approaches the domestic dispute across the alley. I'm hoping it's not an indication of what the rest of the week will be like.
I live a quiet life. Really. A quiet life. The people across the alley usually do as well. But this morning around 9am there was the squealing of tires (two cars) and the crunch of gravel as the resident and her boyfriend tore into the alley and then into her driveway. Then lots of crying and shouting and then they went inside. From which locale I could still hear the crying and shouting emanating at 10am.
[The student who is working on our yard came in this morning and said, "I'll start on the back." (The portion on the alley.) Three minutes later, he crossed through the yard and said, "I'll start on the front. If I want a domestic disturbance, I can create one of my own at home."]
Ten minutes later there were two officers crossing the back yard, guns drawn, on their way to the little house in the alley.
As if my weekend hadn't already been exciting enough.
Which reminds me:
My lovely, lovely nephew was here this weekend, along with what seemed like thousands of other family members but was in reality only seven adults and two children (our living room is really small), to see Dave's play. Well, Kieran didn't see it. Neither did Miss Kasey, age 3almost4, who came with her parents. We (Kieran, Kasey and myself) hung out at the house and watched Shrek and colored and crawled around on the floor getting into things while the grownups went to see closing night of Interment.
I'll have more pictures tomorrow. For now, I'm getting back into the routine of my quiet life.
Posted by sally at 10:21 AM | Comments (3)
July 27, 2007
Don't Tell My Mother I Have a Sunburn
Because I do. It was stupid and short-sighted of me, but there it is.
I got up yesterday morning and knew it was going to be hot out, so I put on a tank top. I was planning on doing stuff indoors, so it wasn't that big a deal. For those of you just joining us, I am fish underbelly white year-round, glow-in-the-dark pale; I usually wear a second shirt over tank tops when I go outside. Only, I decided that since we have company coming today, LOTS of company, I would do my yearly cleanup of the back porch.
Normally this wouldn't be a problem, since the porch has a nice roof and I was working in the shade. It was when I stood out in the back yard and rinsed off all of the furniture that the trouble started. Add to that time spent cleaning up the driveway so it would fit three cars and some weeding and a rinsing off of the side of the house, and the front, and some driving with the windows down and dumping the recycling in the various bins at the recycling center and suddenly I noticed my shoulders were pink. Oops.
It's not a bad burn. The left is a little stronger than the right, and it's feeling a bit tingly and sensitive today, but it's not too bad. I've been slathering my shoulders in aloe vera gel since I noticed the problem. But I feel so completely stupid for not putting on sunscreen or taking the time to get a second shirt before I headed out to run errands in the afternoon. So Stupid.
But my sunburn isn't the point of this entry. The point of this entry is the title.
I debated long and hard about whether to talk about my sunburn at all on here. My mom reads this blog. So does my dad. And I don't want them to worry about me any more than they already do. I also don't particularly want to hear the wear sunscreen and a shirt every time you go outside lecture. I'm almost 40. I do actually know better. I just wasn't paying attention. But my mom is my mom and moms give lectures like that. When I'm 60 and she's 85, I expect I'll STILL get lectures like that. Because that's what moms do.
The choice of whether or not to post on this topic is emblematic of things I struggle with as a blogger. I know I'm not alone in this. This very situation is why so many people try to maintain anonymous status online. So they can write about anything, without fear of reprisals (or lectures from their parents).
I link to several anonymous bloggers in my sidebar. Sometimes I envy their opportunities. They really can write about anything, whereas I have to be very careful. There are things I'd like to share, stories I'd like to tell because they do reveal (in the exploration of my responses to the situations) a great deal about me, about my hangups and prejudices and insecurities. But I can't tell those stories here because they'd also reveal a great deal about people who haven't agreed to have their stuff made public.
For instance, I have a colleague with whom I do not get along. I have come to realize recently that this person represents the Other for me. Many of my responses to this person are based on the fact that they represent my shadow self in many ways. I realized one day that it isn't nearly so much about them. It is much more about me. Why do I care? Are they really that horrible? Or am I projecting? (The answer to that last question would be "Yes, yes I am".) I would love to be able to talk about what that discovery has done in terms of my sense of self and my feelings about my colleague, but I can't. Because though my reactions & responses to the situation are my business, none of the rest of it is. And it certainly isn't anybody else's business.
It's one of the reason my posts have been less frequent of late. (That and the utter lack of interesting happenings in my life.) Because I'm digging deeper into myself with my writing (not here, in my daily journaling on paper), I'm looking at my relationships and exploring my personal responses to the things that happen to and around me. I'd like to be able to write about some of my discoveries here, because I'm narcissistic like that, but also because this blog has become a way to continue to reveal myself. If I were anonymous, I could explain and explore everything in great detail, including describing situations completely, including background, to get to a better sense of myself. Why do I react to this person that way? How much of my response is about them and how much of it is about me and my own issues?
But I don't want to get dooced or to become any more of a pariah than I already am, thank you very much. And I don't want to hurt feelings or expose underbellies that aren't my own. The other people with whom I interact haven't asked for that and don't deserve it. On the other hand, though, how interesting is it to read an entry that goes something like:
So this person today really hurt my feelings. He said something that sounded flippant and light but that also had a sting in it. And I thought, ouch. And then I explored my reactions to the whole situation and realized that they went back a decade to this other thing that happened and that whole situation blew up out of control like a pufferfish and I thought I was over it but apparently I'm not and I have to figure out if there's anything I can do about that.
Revealing and personal and really interesting, no? No. And that's what we're up against here. How do I make this a place for exploring my own situation without infringing on the private lives of the people with whom I come into contact, who influence me and affect me?
I don't know why I felt the need to post about this issue. In part to explain why I've been neglecting this space of late, I guess. Also, though, to toss a question out there to the universe. Those of you who are anonymous, do you feel you can write about anything? Or do you still have limits? Those of you who let it all hang out, how do you deal with this stuff? Do you have topics that are off limits? Or is anything fair game?
Posted by sally at 09:27 AM | Comments (2)
July 24, 2007
Zombie Dreams
I spent much of last night fending off zombies. In my dreams. God only knows where that particular imagery came from. I mean, zombies. Really. One moment I was having a conversation in an empty dining room with a rather odd but seemingly nice little old lady and the next she was lunging for my throat and I had to fend her off with a chair.
I knew immediately what the problem was. "Zombie!" I yelled at the top of my lungs, waving the chair at her head and hoping some of my friends would hear me. There was none of this denial or inability to figure out what was going on that you see in so many zombie movies. I caught on right away. My friends got there just as I killed her for reals by shoving a chair leg through her left eye socket and scrambling her brains.
And then we worked our way through the house, my friends and I, trying to avoid/kill the various zombies that hung out there.
Interestingly, my zombies were just like normal people. Only a little slower. They talked a little slower, they thought a little slower, they moved a little slower. And they had a hungry look in their eyes. Those were the only differences, though. There was none of the arms raised, moaning, shuffling walk thing. Unless they got into attack stance. Then some of that stuff happened. But mostly they were regular-seeming humans.
They also seemed to do a lot of work in pairs. I remember one zombie told me awful jokes while his wife worked her way around behind me and attacked me with a chair. They had looked like a harmless enough couple. At least, I thought they were, untill the chair smashed between my shoulder blades. After that, and another round of screaming "Zombie!" and desperately searching for cover and a workable weapon, I started paying more attention to the behavior of those around me. That's what saved my bacon, in the end.
Looking back on the dream, the thing that amazes me most (aside from how quickly I figured it out and how normal the zombies all were) was the underlying emotion of the dream. You'd think a dream about zombies would be a really scary dream. A nightmare, even. Like those dreams where someone's watching you and you can't move. Or chasing you and you're running uphill through molasses.
But no.
Certainly my anxiety level picked up when I was actually fighting off zombies, but the whole thing actually felt more like Shawn of the Dead than Night of the Living Dead or 28 Days Later. Like those bits in Shawn when they're whacking zombies to music with pool cues. Those bits. Not the "oh my god we're all gonna die" bits. It had a sense that this was just the way it was and I was going to have to learn to deal with this reality. Which is especially odd knowing that several weeks ago I had a nightmare (that still disturbs me) about baked goods growing out of my head. (Don't ask.) I woke up from that dream in a cold sweat. I didn't exactly wake up laughing this morning, but I was mostly nonplussed because, zombies? What?
That's not my normal dream subject. It's like I borrowed someone else's plotline. Out there somewhere in Dreamland, somebody else was having odd and urgent conversations about rain and horseradish and elephants with people they'd never seen before or trying to find some special item in a crowded marketplace where people were packed so tightly they could barely move. Or giving birth to kittens. (Seriously!) And they were most likely as confused upon waking as I was because, "Dude, where did my zombie dreams go?"
Posted by sally at 10:52 PM | Comments (2)
July 23, 2007
A Really Good Day
I had breakfast with my brother on Saturday.
This involved getting up half an hour earlier than usual, driving for almost two hours (Why, why can't people do the minimum posted speed limit on 2-lane country highways? Why?) and getting a bit disorientated in downtown Spokane because they closed my freeway exit for construction, damn WDOT. However, I arrived at his hotel only 30 minutes late.
We had an awesome breakfast, a great walk along/around the falls and about 7 gallons each of water and iced tea at Red Robin in lieu of lunch. (I don't know about you, John, but I didn't need anything more to eat until dinner. That breakfast kept me going all day.) All in all, I spent about five and 1/2 hours with my brother, with one or both of us talking the entire time. It was an amazing day, like a six-hour vacation.
I don't know many people who could do that with a sibling. I'm really fortunate, I know, in having a brother with whom I can have an all-day conversation that's interesting the whole time. And how lucky I am to have a brother who, when he's in my neck of the woods will call me to say, "Hey, are you free on Saturday, because I'd like to spend some time with you." How many people are that fortunate?
I spent a good chunk of the drive home pondering our relationship. How much of it is because of the people we grew up to be, and how much of it is because our mother insisted we not take each other for granted? Would we have grown up to be so close if we hadn't constantly heard, "Be good to him/her. He's the only brother/She's the only sister you have"? I don't think it has anything to do with our ending up in related fields (he's a cinematographer), that's more coincidence than anything else.
And how much of it is genetic? We're both intelligent, creative, curious people. What part of that is training and what part of that is native to our grey matter? We're both pretty tolerant of humanity in general (unless people are being selfish or stupid; intolerance and idiocy make us about equally crazy), but that's a function of our upbringing. As is the tendency to follow our hearts. But this fierce, protective love I have for my little brother is something that has been with me his entire life, as have his reciprocated feelings about me. So where did those come from? Does it matter? Or should I just thank my lucky stars I have a brother who is worth the world to me and a joy to be around?
I think probably the latter.
Posted by sally at 09:51 AM
July 19, 2007
Interment Opens Tonight!
David's first full-length production opens tonight at 7:30 pm in the Hartung Theatre. Come see it if you can. And if you can't, phooey on you.
In honor of this momentous occasion, the following IM conversation, which took place moments ago:
Sally says: I just got you a present.
David says: excellent
David says: what is it?
David says: A Line 6 Variax 700 acoustic modeling guitar? You're amazing!
Sally says: a present.
Sally says: Chuh
David says: it's not a Line 6 Variax 700 acoustic modeling guitar?
Sally says: No. sorry. I didn't know you wanted one.
David says: if you cared enough, you'd know
Sally says: well, shit. Obviously my caring for you is limited to only knowing
those things you actually tell me and making educated guesses about the rest
David says: hehe
David says: I love you.
David says: bye
Sally says: love me and leave me. Typical
Sally says: I love you too. Bye.
I was about to comment on the above by saying something about how we're dorks, but anybody who's read this blog at all has already figured that out, I suspect.
Posted by sally at 01:09 PM
July 17, 2007
What a Day What a Day What a Day
I spent the morning doing the high school mask-making workshop thing. Which was fun. They're good kids, and they've got some fantastic talents.
And did I mention that I walked to school? It's not quite two miles from our house to the building class was in. I was nervous about being late, so instead I opted to be 25 minutes early. Which meant that I did a whole bunch of writing about what I wanted to do with one of my new preps this coming semester.
After mask class, I walked to the local Co-op, which really rocks now that they're in their new building. I think it's been almost 2 years now since they moved in. They now have a killer deli counter. I got lunch. Broccoli, sharp cheddar and carmelized onion quiche & antipasto salad. It was very good, once I picked out the pepperocinis.
Then back to campus, where I spent the afternoon working on the new couch in my new, almost finished office. Things it still needs: pictures hung, telephone, internet access. Though I got so much done in there without the net to distract me. I'm almost tempted to forego the access in exchange for getting shit done. (At some point, I will remember to take a camera so I can post a picture.)
At 4:35 or so, my brain stopped working. Fortunately, I had quite a bit of stuff done by then, prepping for classes, so I felt justified in taking a break and playing Minesweeper until Dave called at 5:15 to say he was out of rehearsal. (His play Interment opens on Thursday. Yay!) We met at the nearest logical spot and had dinner together before walking home.
By my best estimate, I walked about five miles today, at a good pace. But I told myself if I did that, I wouldn't have to go to the gym or to feel bad about not going. Tomorrow, on the other hand, it's back on the treadmill for me. You know, something about this must be working. My hands, feet and ankles are all looking thinner.
And then I took the rest of the evening off. Because I couldn't think any more. I am tahrd. Taaaay-hrd. I keep having to stop typing while I yawn.
Posted by sally at 10:05 PM | Comments (1)
July 16, 2007
No Way to Say Good-Bye
A year or so ago I had a really lovely student from Nepal. (In fact, now that I think about it, all of my students from Nepal have been lovely people. As have the students from China, Sumatra, Korea and England. In fact, I have yet to have an un-lovely foreign student. They've all rocked.)
But as I was saying, Richa was something special. She was funny, she was bright, she was shy but determined, and she was a grade-A, number one kind of student. Sometimes, her mother came to class with her. To carry her books. Because Richa was on crutches. She'd had surgery for bone cancer and couldn't walk without them. When she was in my class, she was still trying to protect a weak immune system. But she attended almost every session, and she participated fully and she carved out a very special place in my heart.
I googled her this evening, because I've been thinking about her lately. I didn't see her on campus this year, and I wondered.
She's dead.
I don't know when. I can imagine how. And I'm so sorry. Because she was so clearly cut out for greater things than an early death from a horribly painful disease. I know I often hoped while she was in my class that she would beat the cancer and grow into the person she had the opportunity to be.
For Richa's family and friends, I wish peace and a joy in the opportunity to have known her. I know I was incredibly fortunate in getting to share a semester with her. Anyone who knew Richa is lucky to have been so blessed.
Posted by sally at 09:15 PM | Comments (2)
Too. Much. To. Do.
So many things to do and so little time and now an urgent and must be done ASAP thing has just shown up to fit into the day as well. (And since I'm currently self-employed, I'm the person making the ASAP determinations.)
At least I've already been to the gym. So I've got that going for me.
Posted by sally at 03:00 PM
July 15, 2007
Also, My New Favorite Saying
You know how sometimes you'll hear someone say something that is so perfect that you want to remember that quotation and use it forever and ever?
I used to love stating
Well sprinkle me with brown sugar and call me breakfast!
And then there was David Feherty's hilarious response to some golf-related information:
Well slap me silly and call me Nancy,
Which made Dave and I laugh long and hard. We frequently used it to express surprise.
And then last night we were watching one of the final episodes of Season 3 of Slings and Arrows and heard the most mild-mannered and sweet character on the show scream the following at a recalictrant old actor who had caused no end of problems and distress and was throwing a tantrum about doing the thing that was actually best for him (and everybody else):
If you don't straighten up, I'll smack you so hard your cousin will fall down!
We were repeating that to each other for the rest of the evening and giggling like maniacs.
Posted by sally at 12:17 PM
Dieting Progress!!!
Starting Weight (June 2007): 168.4 lbs
Current Weight: 170.8 167.8 lbs
Short Term Goal: 151 lbs
Finally. FINALLY, I managed to lose some weight instead of staying the same or (dammit) gaining. I also finished the first week of my Couch Potato to 3K training program. In fact, I'm a little ahead of the curve, I'm already working harder, running longer than they suggested at the start, but I don't feel like I'm overdoing it, so I'm going to keep up with my take on the program. Week Two starts tomorrow.
Posted by sally at 10:53 AM
July 12, 2007
How Much More Hot Could It Be?
And the answer is none. None more hot.
Just a little photo essay about the temperature here today, which is roughly 20°F higher than usual. Yay.
Photos of: the thermometer on our back porch (also gives indoor temperature reading); Dave's office (the sensor is in the shade and the battery is running down so I'm not guaranteeing the accuracy); the truck and the car, which are parked in the very same driveway but facing opposite directions; the local fancy-pants hotel (hah); and the Bank of America, which seems to have some trouble both with the sensor and the readout because it's not 90°F anywhere in this town today.
Posted by sally at 02:40 PM | Comments (2)
And Another Birthday Announcement
Happy birthday Terry Bain! Terry and I not only went to college together a million and a half years ago, (well, 15-20 years ago, anyway), we now live in the same part of the world. And it's not the part we went to college in.
Let's have coffee again someday. I'll promise to not be developing pneumonia like I was the last time.
Posted by sally at 11:10 AM
July 10, 2007
In Which There Is Nothing New to Report
My day. Boring for everybody but me. And even kinda that way for me too:
Picked up the clutter in preparation for the cleaning lady. Who ROCKS, by the way. She is fantastic. After her first session last week, I called Dave and said, "Let's give her a million dollars and have her clean our house for ever and ever. And also cook, because she's really good at that too." I cannot tell you how nice it is to come home to a spotless house. Especially knowing that the person who did the spotlessing needs the dosh.
Discovered that the high school mask making class I've been teaching was cancelled today. Which was awesome. Meant I could do more stuff. (Not to worry, their final two sessions will just be an hour longer each.) Plus, I just wasn't in the mood for dealing with them. I've discovered that I prefer college students. If college students fuck up because they weren't listening to me, I can point out that they're grownups and need to be responsible for themselves. I can't do that with high school students. Though this is a great group of kids.
Ran errands what needed running.
Gym = 30 minutes on bike + 30 minutes on stairmaster. I will be a size 12 at least by my birthday (provided I can stop eating dessert). And I can still touch my nose to just below my knees. I cannot believe, however, how long it took me to figure out that the reason my left leg is tighter in the hamstrings than the right leg when I do a straddle stretch is because I don't have that tendon in my right leg anymore. Which would make things a bit looser. That realization took me three weeks, even though the tendon has been part of my new ACL since St. Patrick's Day 2005. Clearly I need to eat more before my workouts. To be sure the brain keeps working.
Office. I've spent the last couple of weeks looking for a loveseat to put in my new office. It needs a couch for lounging and also visitors. My requirements are simple. It needs to be fairly small, it should be clean and not smelly and it needs to cost less than $100. I don't even care what color/pattern/fabric it is. I've done the garage sale thing for two weeks with no luck, though I did find a coffee table, a really cool window and some rolling pins (including a marble one for $4!!!). I skipped one weekend, and that was apparently the cool garage sale weekend. So many couches available the weekend I didn't do any hunting.
Anyway, I decided that I was going about this whole couch hunt all wrong. I didn't have a place for a couch, my office was still only halfway unpacked. So this afternoon I took my gymsweat-caked body to my new office and finished unpacking. The only thing I have to do now is hang pictures, diplomas, important awards, etc. on the walls. And now it is quite clear that there is a space that is hungering for a loveseat. It needs a couch to be complete. So Universe, if you're listening, there's a space for a loveseat, it's all ready. All it needs it the sofa.
I call it the Vacuum Theory of Interior Design. It's like the Vacuum Theory of Economics a young man once explained to me in a bar. I was young myself at that point, so this was a peer thing, not a mentor-y thing. And also possibly an attempt at a pick-up-y thing. "Nature abhors a vacuum, right? So I figure if I spend all the money in my checking account, more money will flow in to fill that vacuum. Right?" Right, buddy. Buy me another Bailey's.
But just in case he was right, there's a loveseat-shaped vacuum in my new office.
Posted by sally at 09:48 PM
July 09, 2007
Midsummer Status Report
Height: 5'8"
Current Weight: 170.2 lbs
Teeth: Clean, no cavities
Employment Status: Full time adjunct faculty on summer break
Marital Status: Happily together for 9.5 years
Alertnes Level: Kinda snoozy
Calories Burned at Gym Today: 600+ (Which is more than I ate at breakfast. Yesssss!)
Resting Heart Rate: 61
Blood Pressure 122/72
Attitude: Good overall, but that may just be today.
Housekeeper: Employed
Front Beds: Weeded! (Thanks to a friend who was looking for gainful employment and something to do.)
Laundry: In process
Lunch: PB&J on multigrain with Harvest Cheddar Sunchips and 2 Oreos.
Blog Entry: Lame, cheesy, but done.
Posted by sally at 02:56 PM
July 06, 2007
Booooootssssss
Mmmmm...
Lookit what came in the mail today. In, I am sad to say, a box so banged up I was afraid they might have been stolen.
Distressed brown Steve Madden Hyperr booootssss...
What's that?
You say they look familiar?
I don't have the slightest idea what you're talking about.
Posted by sally at 08:49 PM | Comments (1)
July 05, 2007
The Beauty of Being Tough
This spring, as I was weeding the graveled portion of our driveway, I spotted a small hollyhock. I tried to dig it up, to transplant it, but the ground was too hard to dig deeply. I couldn't get more than a couple of inches down. So I blocked it off (to keep it from being run over) and left it to fend for itself.
This week, it bloomed:
Tenacity is a beautiful thing.
Posted by sally at 08:14 PM | Comments (3)
July 04, 2007
Happy Fourth of July
For those of you who celebrate this holiday, join me in taking a moment to realize all the things we have because of where we live and what our foreparents started 231 years ago today. And though Thomas Jefferson might not have had any clue where the great experiment would lead, I expect he'd fully approve of some of the offshoots that are a result of his ideas. Like the First Amendment and blogging.
Now, as concerned and patriotic Americans, please join me in vowing to keep our rights from being further eroded by asshats who are more concerned with their profit margins and maintaining privilege than they are in bringing true freedom to all human beings.
Posted by sally at 11:07 AM | Comments (2)
July 02, 2007
The Return of Recipies of the Damned
Years ago, my friend Amy had a website on which she lampooned genuine but odd (by which I mean disgusting) recipies, which she found in a variety of places. She stopped writing in 2001 (I think), though the archives are still available on the original site. Just this week, she has revived it, and I have to tell you, it is still brilliant. And even better than ever because now it's a blog and you can comment.
Her first recipe is up now, and to give you an idea of the kind of stuff she covers, I'll share the conversation I just had with Dave:
Sally: Recipies of the Damned is back!
Dave: Cool.
Sally: Her first recipe is, get this... "Noel Eggnog".
Dave: Huh.
Sally: With pineapple juice.
Dave: Eew.
Seriously. You must go visit at once. It's fabulous. And read all of the archives on her other site too. No one should suffer gastronomic damnation alone.
Posted by sally at 02:41 PM | Comments (2)
July 01, 2007
Solstice Moon
Last night, I drove out to the edge of town to wait for moonrise.
I do not like standing next to my car in the gathering dark in a lonely, lonely place. I don't like it. I worry about predators, both the two-legged and four-legged kind. Now that I think of it, I'm surprised Dueling Banjos wasn't twiddling about in my head. Come on, everybody! Sing it with me! "Da-da Ding Ding, Ding Ding, Ding Ding Diiiiiing..."
I did this because the moon was at it's lowest point in 2007, so it was sure to be HUGE, and I wanted pictures of the moonrise. According to various astronomical people, moonrise last night was at 9:34pm. Of course, that was if nothing was in the way. And last night was the night the moon rose directly behind one of the taller hills on the near horizon. So it didn't really rise until about 10pm. I was alone in the dark with the crickets and something that skittered through the brush for 1/2 hour. Every time my car doors automatically locked themselves I practically jumped out of my skin.
But here's what I got. Bear in mind that the hill in question was over a mile away, that I was on the tightest zoom possible with my digital camera, in the dark. Without a tripod. It's a miracle anything turned out at all.
It really was that orange, by the way.
It was a beautiful night.
Posted by sally at 11:30 AM
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