Chewlies

Communication.

2011-05-15T09:25:00.002-07:00

At odd times, apropos of nothing, the wee one will emphatically state, "I know" in his tiny little person voice, with this inflection that sounds like he is saying, "I mean, can you believe it? That is so crazy!"

Cracks me up each and every time.

Minimization.

2011-05-11T17:12:00.000-07:00

I've got to admit, I kind of dig the looks on peoples' faces when they ask what I did for Mother's Day, and I respond, "Ran a 10k."

Perspective.

2010-11-19T18:03:00.004-08:00

It seems a fairly universal trait to see one's self as average. My skills, abilities, tastes, traits and sensibilities? They don't seem any too special or unique to me. I live with myself on a daily basis, and trust me, I have first hand knowledge that I'm really not that special.

What I forget is that I've lost perspective of me in relation to the rest of the world. The knowledge I've gained is indeed knowledge. My threshold of "normal", however, has increased, so I just don't notice. And gaining perspective from those around me is difficult. (Bird's of a feather and all....)

Recently, I had a good, refreshing, take stock of yourself sort of insight.

Okay, maybe not that epic.

I was looking at witty shirts here, and saw this shirt.

My first thoughts were along the lines of, "Funny, but not hilarious."
And then I had the realization that were I to wear this shirt, the reaction of most people would not be "Ha!", but "Huh?"

My name is Lacie, and I am a nerd.

Conundrum.

2010-10-04T18:18:00.004-07:00

I find myself in need of your help. I've signed up for the Run Like Hell 10k. I would really like to wear some sort of costume, it being Halloween and all, but I've hit a brick wall as far as creative ideas.

So, I put it to you, Oh Internet.

Any thoughts?

And, to add incentive to share ideas, I've even devised a rating system..

+1 If it is a run-compatible costume. (It is a 10k after all.)
+2 If it doesn't require sewing. (I'm really not that crafty.)
+3 If it fits with the theme this year, Alice in Wonderland
+4 If it isn't Alice
+5000 if it incorporates a hookah.

Thanks in advance for your help. (And I promise, I'll post a picture...)

Hallucination?

2010-09-24T17:19:00.002-07:00

I'm not sure what led up to it, but I had one of those very strange, oddly detailed dreams last night.

I was in a room full of chiropractors, as though I had stumbled into a convention of some sort.

I made some smart-ass comment to the effect that their entire profession was bogus and that there was no clinical evidence of the efficacy of their work. (You know, as I'm so prone to do.)

Then I was in a room full of angry chiropractors.

To complete all the strangeness, though, was that my first thought upon waking up was wondering why I'm only so unfailingly articulate when I'm mouthing off to a room full of strangers in my sleep...

Obfuscation.

2010-09-16T17:37:00.002-07:00

Living on the west coast, I'm learning there are some seemingly minor linguistic distinctions that can have a major impact.

Some I love. For instance, if your travels take you any further than the Rockies, you are going "Back East". It doesn't really matter if your final destination is New York, North Carolina, or even Nebraska. You are going Back East.

In all reality, it sounds so much better, too. Imagine the conversations.
Guy 1 "I'm going to a wedding in my old hometown."
Guy 2 "Oh really. Where?"
Guy 1 "Cheboygan."
Guy 2 "Where?"
Guy 1 "Um, Cheboygan. In Michigan."
Guy 2 "Oh. Back East."

Of course, while there are some of little linguistic twists I love, there are some I've come to merely understand and accept.

For instance, ask any Oregonian the difference between going to the beach and going to the coast.

Permeation.

2010-08-10T21:42:00.003-07:00

As a follow up to the previous post, I offer a quick note about the Garlic Festival itself.

The race and awards ended at roughly 11 a.m., at which time the festival proper opened. We took a quick tour of the grounds, where we saw a number of handicrafts for sale. There were also multiple vendors of, you guessed it, garlic. The food court offered rather basic garlic-y fare. We sampled the garlic Parmesan cheese fries (judged by all of us to be freaking awesome). We also tried the garlic beer. I will say, it wasn't horrible. It just seemed like something you should drink the morning after a night of heavy drinking, as you munch on cold pizza and stale bread sticks. The novelty of drinking garlic beer wasn't sufficient to drink the entire glass.

There was a vendor selling garlic ice cream, but it was kind of expensive. And really, does anyone believe eating a scoop of garlic flavored ice cream is going to turn out well?

So, we left after having eaten a rather small amount of garlic-y goodness.
We did get to see the Garlic Festival Queen, however. (Complete with her garlic clove crown.)
And, the prize for completing the run?
A bulb of elephant garlic.

Mighty.

2010-08-09T20:17:00.002-07:00

Be forewarned - - This is a long one.

Two years ago, if there was even a rumor that I would someday be running 8 and 10k's, I know I would have laughed. Loudly. And for a long time. I'm talking obnoxious laughing, folks.

Yet my journey has taken me here, the after side of the Garlic Festival 10k.

Let me backtrack a bit and start by describing a bit more about my early up-bringing. My mother is someone who has struggled with her weight her entire life. I have early memories of her (and by default, the rest of the family) trying different diets, nutrition programs, shake mixes, and supplements. Given that none of things has ever touched on the deeper issues at play, it will likely come as no surprise that none of these things worked. I first learned to see my mother as she saw herself, powerless against forces at work that kept her overweight, unhealthy, and most of all, very unhappy. The lessons I learned were that our bodies are out of our control, they gain weight and we are powerless to change this. (It also seemed that exercise was a punishment.) Again, likely not a surprise, I also grew up struggling with issues around weight and health. Never quite as badly, as I was able to keep myself in some approximation of reasonable health, but still, my body was the enemy that couldn't be trusted.

This could have gone on forever. However, not quite one year ago, a incredibly significant event occurred, which had a profound, if unintentional, impact on issues related to health and body image. Just one short year ago, a baby was born.

The more detailed story of his birth will likely come soon, but for the purposes of this post, suffice it to say that I was in active labor for six hours, pushed for about fifteen minutes, and made it through the entire experience without any medications. I was deeply committed to giving my child every possible advantage, and everything I had read and learned led me to believe natural childbirth would be to his benefit. So, barring any emergencies or threats to the safety of either of us, I went into the experience of labor determined to attempt natural labor.

And for us, it was successful.

During those six hours of active labor, I had the opportunity to get to know my body in a way I never have before. To some, this may be a long established habit, but for me, it was a very intense education in listening and responding. Yes there were monitors strapped to my abdomen tracking contractions, but I was soon able to tell when they were coming well before anything bleeped.

At the end of it, I held a tiny little being in my arms. Among the many wonderful and complex emotions, I also began to develop a different perspective on my body. It had provided safe harbor for this little person for nine months. It had done exactly what it was supposed to do when confronted with experience of labor. Circumstances had made intense physical demands of my body for a sustained period of time, and my body had been up to the challenge.

When I let myself contemplate it, I began to see my body as something I could rely on. I started to see my body as physically strong.

And so, I began asking more of it. First one mile. Then two. Then I was signing up for an 8k. This past Saturday, my first 10k.

In addition to running the entire six miles (at a personal best for time as a bonus), I've very pleased to say that I noticed my self-talk through the entire run was incredibly positive. "You've done work harder than this, you can finish." "This has an end and you will see it." "Labor was six hours of intense physical pain. You can handle jogging for one hour."

Thinking back on it, I can't help but smiling. My harshest critic is becoming kinder.
And my body, though it now creaks and pops, it is becoming stronger and more capable.

I am allowing myself to become mighty indeed.

Radiance.

2010-07-28T21:40:00.003-07:00

Some time ago, I was looking for a recipe that included lentils. (I understand they are rather good for you.) Alas, almost everything I found was some sort of lentil soup. Then, I found this. It was relatively simple, included all sorts of good-for-you ingredients, and seems to make a lot. And friends, is it ever tasty. (Chris may disagree, but this likely has to do with the fact that I make a batch of it about once a month, and he might be growing rather sick of it.)

And look! It is so colorful!

Reservations.

2010-07-23T17:35:00.002-07:00

I believe this one could be tagged "Just what the hell was I thinking".

I've gone and done it.

I'm registered for a 10k.

My running routine has gotten rather stale, and for the past two weeks, I haven't been running much at all. Since terror is a good motivator for me, what better way to get back on track than to run in a race! (I can hear the chanting now, "They're all going to laugh at you!")

The 10k is for the upcoming Garlic Festival in North Plains in two weeks. Part of me is quite nervous. The other part is super excited to consume as much garlic in as many forms as possible until the sweet smell permeates my every pore. (We kinda like garlic in this house....)

Let the preparations begin. (Jogging and finding some ultra-heavy duty toothpaste.)

Tromatic.

2010-07-16T17:20:00.002-07:00

At work, I keep seeing a flyer for this seminar, entitled Toxic Anger.

Without fail, every time I see it in passing, I keep thinking it says Toxic Avenger.

Troma does bad things to your brain...

Preparation.

2010-07-15T17:29:00.002-07:00

It came up really randomly today*, but I had an interesting conversation today with some co-workers about childbirth education classes. (Did you take them? Were they helpful?) Each of us had such different experiences with pregnancy and birth, it was nice to process with them. One theme that did come up is that there is a lot of focus on the event of childbirth, but that this is a disproportionately small aspect of becoming a parent. Another theme was that childbirth is a physical event, so traditional classroom style learning makes about as much sense as studying a book on running to prepare for a marathon.

On this topic, I look back and realize Chris and I were pretty lucky. We registered for childbirth classes through Mother Tree. (We also worked with a doula through them....) The classes were educational, talking about what happens during delivery for both mother and baby. My least favorite part, though probably most helpful, was the night we practiced our coping techniques. The teacher gave us each an ice cube, had us hold if for a minute at a time, and practice the things we had talked about it like breathing. (If this sounds like a throw-away activity, try it. For the full minute. Then think of all the helpful things you've heard people tell women in labor, like "Just breathe." Yeah.) Not an exact preparation for childbirth, but definitely effective in introducing the idea of coping with physical discomfort.

*We had a potluck at work, and I brought in an appetizer introduced to me by a fellow classmate. It is fresh mini mozzarella balls on a toothpick with a leaf of basil and a cherry tomato. Or, heaven on a toothpick on a warm summer day...

Conviction.

2010-06-04T17:39:00.003-07:00

I've been thinking about this for a while. I don't know that I'm ever going to find the words to really convey what I mean to say, so please be flexible with me and try to hear the spirit of what I'm writing.

I've encountered a few people in my life going through unimaginable loss or struggle. I'm sure this is a universal experience: someone shares the unfiltered reality of something they are going through, and you are at a complete loss for what to say. Your own sympathy, your own emotions, they just seem irrelevant, because it really isn't your struggle. It isn't the thing you have to face every morning you wake up, and untold moments throughout the day. You want to reach out, but that chasm is so huge, and mere words of sympathy just seem so inadequate.

In these moments, I find myself thinking about the song Dengo sung by Sweet Honey in the Rock. Chris, being an incredible sort of person, bought tickets for us to see them when they played in Cincinnati several years ago. It was some time ago, so I may not have hung onto all the details in my mind, but this is what I remember them giving as the description of what this song is about. A woman deeply wants to have a child and begins feeling great despair that she remains childless. She cries out, praying for a child, and those prayers are added to by the other women of her family. As she finally welcomes her child into the world, she realizes that the prayers of the generations of women who came before were there for her, just as her prayers and those of family now will be there for the generations that come after.

I don't know if it really translates, but it gives me comfort to think that my thoughts of you, my well wishes, desires for safety or comfort or lessening of grief are being invested in your futures and the futures of those that come after.

I wish I could tell you that while my compassion is clumsy and awkward, that all this love goes somewhere.

Preoccupation.

2010-06-02T17:15:00.002-07:00

Three or four times a week, I have a thought about something I'd very much like to post on this blog. The thought usually comes right as I'm snuggling down into bed. Of course, by the time I have a few spare moments to actually post, the thought is gone.

In general, life is busy right now. The free time I do have I tend to spend either playing with the wee one, sleeping, or this new insanity, running. (I don't understand it either, but I like it. And, it is time I get to spend on myself, by myself, doing something that is good for me. So, I'm rolling with it.)

More to come eventually, right after I either go for a jog or take a nap.....

Humiliation.

2010-03-04T17:29:00.003-08:00

Dear Written Permission,
I saw your post today, and could not help but reflect on my own Glamour Shot......oh hell.....let's call it....experience.

I was somehow spared the fleeting joys of Glamour Shots as it peaked and waned in the local malls. I never had much money, and the nearest mall was about an hour away. I was fine with this, as I've never been much of a get-dolled-up-and-take-photos kind of girl.

Somehow, about eight years after the last mall franchise went out of business, my mom discovered it through a mailer sent out in our community. Yes, it was Glamour Shots on the road. So, this woman who claimed to love us sent my sister and I to a motel (yes, motel, not even the illusionary comfort of sending us somewhere so classy as a hotel) for our photo shoot. We were first greeted by the stylist. I don't know what career dreams she used to have of high fashion, but there in the wood-paneled nightmare of a room, a broken soul teased and poofed our hair and slathered on make-up with the relative indifference of a street-hardened hooker giving $15 handjobs in the back parking lot of a 7-11. (I'm just guessing here, I can't state for a fact that a hooker expresses more or less enthusiasm than our stylist...)

So, after a due amount of "styling", we were sent to the next room where our photographer awaited. The only thing more unsettling than his soft, doughy form and exquisite molestache was the fact he spoke only once during the entire ordeal. Walking into that room, I was quite convinced that aside from my missing person photo, the last time I would be seen was when someone found my dismembered body stuffed in a hefty bag on the side of the interstate. I just hoped my missing person photo wouldn't be one of the glamourous glamour shots.

In turn, my sister and I were seated, our mid bits wrapped in a bit of black fabric, and then various accessories placed on us to stage our very glamorous shots. (No rhinestone cowboy hats unfortunately. Just lots of cubic zirconium jewels, boas and opera gloves. Oh, and a Harley-Davidson hat.) Regarding the bit of fabric about my middle, my sister helpfully commented, "At least you know who the last person to wear that was." Then she went back to her own personal experience of wild eyed horror.

For the final glamorous shot, the middle bit was covered with a piece of animal print fabric. The photographer stated, "Yabba dabba do." Again, my sister with the helpful comments, "His joke. His one joke. I think you should laugh."

And then, it was over. There was a frantic scramble as we re-clothed while also trying to run for the car. There was no time to waste scraping the cakey layers of make-up off, just a race to find the keys and go.

Several weeks later, the photos arrived by mail.

Oh, if you're scrolling down looking for the photo, you can stop. Please folks, those things are buried in the bottom of the box in our basement, never to see the light of day again. And, you may have noticed, this is the internet. Leaking out photos like that are how careers are ruined.

Recommendation.

2010-03-01T19:11:00.002-08:00

I wouldn't say that we spend tons of time in the car with the wee one, but on my day off, there is a fair amount of driving about town. I've been wondering for a few weeks now what to about all the quiet down time. I had been listening to the radio, but it just seemed to passive. I don't sing along as I really don't know the words to most songs, and I've started getting annoyed with commercials. I tried singing some familiar songs to the boy, but this seems a bit cruel. (I bear no illusions about the quality of my singing voice.) He seemed to like "You are My Sunshine" and "One Elephant Went Out to Play", but I found it really repetitive to keep singing the same two songs that I know. (I also found that driving while singing counting songs is going to result in my child learning a rather flexible 1-10.)

So, I am exploring the sometimes ghastly world of children's music.

A family member gave me one c.d. with some very traditional songs on it. The songs are great. (BINGO, I've Been Working on the Railroad, etc.), but the tone and quality of the singers makes me want to stab out my ears.

This weekend, rather on a whim, I picked up a c.d. from a local kid's store. The c.d. is entitled "Funny Little Fella" by Matt Clark. I wasn't sure what to expect, but the sales clerk reassured me it was a good compilation of songs. We listed to it all day today, and we both enjoyed it greatly. The songs are pretty simple, mostly just singing and guitar. The song titles are wonderful though, and the lyrics had me cracking up. (I especially like "I Think I'm Gonna Put It In My Mouth".) For his part, the wee one listened intently to each song, and generally cooed or giggled at the end. A truer and more sincere recommendation you will not find.

So, my first official parent-based recommendation: A great album from a local artist, full of quick, fun songs written my someone who has definitely been there.

Exhaustion.

2010-02-24T17:31:00.002-08:00

I was at work for four hours before I noticed I had my shirt on backwards.

Tradition.

2010-02-22T07:48:00.005-08:00

We celebrated my birthday over the weekend. It was tremendously fun. On Saturday, we went to a used book sale at Title Wave, then out to lunch. Later that night, we met up with friends to celebrate a good friend's birthday at Hub.

David sampled the cucumbers.

On Sunday, we went for a hike in the Gorge. It was a beautiful day, and we hiked Beacon Rock.

Finally, dinner at Walking Man.
It was a very good weekend.

Observation.

2010-02-17T17:45:00.002-08:00

I started a new job at the beginning of the year. In getting adjusted to the new environment, new people, new schedule, I was inevitably faced with the "dirty hippy" conversation. This is where I am in some way forced to disclose that I am an ovo-lacto-vegetarian. It derives its name from my time living in Cincinnati, when I would tell people I didn't eat meat, and they would generally call me a dirty hippy.

It has been a delightful discovery that I have not had these sort of encounters since moving to the Pacific Northwest. Maybe it is the growing awareness of dietary restrictions and food allergies, but I think not. In general, people tend to not take my lifestyle choices as some sort of condemnation or judgement. In fact, they usually have some sort of recommendation that generally makes my life more enjoyable. Don't eat meat? Have you tried Vita Cafe? You use public transportation? Do you know about the Free Rail Zone? Cloth diapering? Did you know that in addition to tons of supplies, Milagros has a cloth diapering support group?

Portland can often feel very big and unfamiliar to me, but this kind of mindset makes it feel like so much more of a community. I've been fortunate that most of the people I've met have been wonderful. They are able to get outside of their own minds and egos. My choices aren't a criticism of them, they are decisions that are often celebrated and supported, and any community where you are so welcomed is a wonderful place to be.

Reveal.

2010-02-12T17:44:00.003-08:00

I try to be cautious about sharing photos of the wee one. (I worked with some pretty sick people, and it starts to impact the way you look at the world.)

Facebook seems to be experiencing some difficulties, however, and it is preventing me from posting a new(ish) photo of him. He will be six months old tomorrow.

In the first two weeks, when everyone told me that time would go too fast, I was firmly of the opinion that it had been a very long time since they had hung out with a two week old. Now? Well, I don't mourn for that time back. It was lived fully, and I think we've enjoyed each and every day as much as we could. Onward to the new adventures that await...

Adulation.

2010-02-07T22:18:00.002-08:00

I confess, I'm a weather coverage junkie. I don't know why, but I take some sort of subversive pleasure in the non-stop coverage of every winter weather storm* that hits our area. Basically, if a snowstorm gets named, I can guarantee yours truly will be planted in front of the local news, eagerly anticipating the graphic they roll out for it. I can't even give a very good rationale for why. It isn't as though it is very good news coverage. It is usually the constant repetition of the same fifteen minutes of actual information over and over for an hour. (It also isn't exactly as though I'm in any way impacted by the scrolling school cancellations.)

Here are the things that keep me watching, though:

1. The name. A storm can dump two inches of snow in Portland, and most likely it will get a name. You know, to distinguish it from the other storm that dumped two inches of snow. Arctic Blast 2009, Winter Freeze 2008, etc. For whatever insane reason, this just appeals to me.

2. The non-stop coverage. Most especially, the live reporting. I'm trying to track this, because I'm convinced there is some hierarchy at play here. I'm thinking the highest ranking reporter stays comfy and warm in the studio. The ambitious one trying to make a power play gets sent out onto the street. The one that messed up reporter numero uno's coffee order? Yeah, he gets sent thirty miles out of town. And why? To film the fact that it is snowing.

3. The measuring of the snow. It is never sufficient just to tell the viewing audience how many inches of snow has fallen. Oh no no no. The snow must be measured. Now I've seen the "ruler stuck in a snow drift" approach. With non-stop coverage, though, this can grow a bit dull. Some personal favorites are a random stick, the reporter's leg, and my all time favorite, the camera guy.

*Please note, the Snowpocalypse does not apply as this is occurring on the East cost. Yes, there is national news coverage, but the fun is really watching our crack local reporters.

Nomination.

2010-02-04T17:57:00.005-08:00

A very big thank you to Written Permission and Metacognitive Musings. I really haven't done well in maintaining this blog, so your nomination/remembering this thing even exists is much appreciated.

So, I understand there are rules involved with this. They are:

1. Thank the person who nominated me for this award.
2. Copy the award & place it on my blog.
3. Link to the person who nominated me for this award.
4. Share 7 interesting things about myself.
5. Nominate 7 bloggers.

Seven interesting things about me...

The tendons in my hands are funky. The result is, I can't move the joints in one finger without also moving the fingers on either side of it.
I sneeze in threes. (I am my own sideshow attraction.)
Something about my face screams college intern. I still get asked where I'm going to school and when I'm graduating despite not having been in a classroom in six years.
I have a deep and abiding love for god-awful B movies.
I'm learning to embrace that I am a nerd. And not the cute, fun, tech-savvy type. I'm the "Yes I know what jeffries tubes are, but no, I don't have a full-scale replica of my favorite sci-fi program in my basement" sort.
Though people seem to like me and think I'm rather witty, I will forever feel like the band geek hanging out on the smoker's patio in high school.
Not only have I made peace with my kitchen, I would now go so far as to consider myself an adequate cook. (I only burn things occasionally.)

I hereby nominate:

Okay, the rules aren't clear, can I nominate people back? Following my own rules:

Written Permission, because you are an amazing person, and I've found few people who share such a passion for the written word. Or for our canine friends. :-)
Metacognitive Musings, you are a kind and welcoming soul. You've also inspired a love of office organization products that stays with me still. (Seriously, ask me about my label maker.)
Snappy Tulip, you are an amazing baker, friend, and now mother. I also really enjoy how the title of your blog captures your personality. :-)
Aimless OasisI love reading your posts, the little glimpses into you life and family. Reflecting on the little moments you share (a moment in the morning, something funny, or even profound your children say), it is a wonderful reminder of what is important in life.
Grumbles & Grunts, because I've been lurking on your website for about six months now, and love hearing your thoughts and experiences with motherhood. I truly wish I had met you while we were still living in Cincinnasty, it might have made it a lot more enjoyable to be there....
Happy Hopefuls. I've also been lurking on your site for some time now. I've never had a comment that somehow felt sufficient to express it, but please know there is one more person rooting for you, and truly enjoying your Etsy love updates.
and Mimi Smartypants (though it is unlikely she is reading my blog....) She is incredibly witty, and I love the attitude toward parenting expressed on her site.

Intention.

2010-01-22T17:31:00.002-08:00

Two statements made by me today, without malice aforethought, despite how it may seem.

"I'm mostly just sharing my candy with you so that I share the calories."

"Is Patrick Swayze dead yet?"

I promise, I'm not an awful person. Some days, it just seems the route from thought to mouth completely by-passes tact...

Confession.

2009-11-13T17:49:00.002-08:00

Alright, despite the previous post, I did not in fact confront lewd perviness by being a total badass. Today, my creepy co-worker scuttled into the lactation room. Fortunately, everything was covered and put away. Alas, my response was the very simple human one. Yup, I stood there with a dumb look on my face, trying to force my brain around the reality that a skeezy male was standing in the boob room.

The conversation went something like:

Him: "Oops" (leaving room quickly)
Me: (30 seconds later) "What the #@%!"

As gratifying as a beat-down with a nipple pump would have felt, I'm pursuing the much more lame (and safe) HR course of action. And, a co-worker pointed out, the sicko probably would have gotten off on being touched by something recently used on an actual boob.

Part of me still doesn't believe that he actually had the audacity to do it.

Objection.

2009-11-10T17:21:00.002-08:00

Dear Office Creeper:

In the two years we have worked together, every conversation held has been exclusively between you and my chest. I get it. You like boobs.

However, your recent habit of cruising through the lactation room needs to end. (There is a huge sign on the door labeling said room as for the exclusive use of nursing mothers. No one buys that you coming through there is an accident. Especially since you are a repeat offender.) Now yes, there is a slight possibility you may catch a glimpse of a nipple when you pop in there. But trust me dude, what is happening to that nipple is about as far removed from sexy as possible.

In short, stop being a letch. The payoff isn't worth it, and I swear to god if I catch you trying to get a peek, I will beat you down and attach the nipple pumps to your swarthy face.

Thank you for your prompt attention in this matter.

Me

Production.

2009-11-01T09:37:00.002-08:00

Yesterday had mixed results as we attempted to celebrate our first Halloween with a little one. (Having a two-month old eliminated most parties from consideration. Yup, we are now lame.) I found out about a few things going on in the community, though, and overall had fun. (By the way, I dressed David as a strawberry. His dad seems convinced it will be a reason for him to hate me in about ten years. David himself seemed above all, indifferent.)

We stopped by the Kennedy School. In addition to offering trick or treating for the kids, they also had a special radio program. St. James Infirmary was performed by the Willamette Radio Workshop. We didn't get to stay long, on account of someone getting fussy. It was a lot of fun though, and reminded me of Prairie Home Companion. It will be worthwhile to check out again next year.

A few of the neighborhood businesses offered trick or treating for the kids. It seemed silly to take an infant out to collect candy, but we did stop by one store where he got a wooden top.

Our own attempt to pass out candy was an utter failure. We didn't get a single taker. I guess the work of going house to house to collect candy a single piece at a time is an inferior choice when there is a restaurant just down the street where you can get a bag full of candy in one single stop...

Commiseration.

2009-10-15T10:45:00.004-07:00

Some of you may have already heard this story about a four month old baby being denied health insurance. Apparently, he is in the 99th percentile for weight, and insurers don't take babies above the 95th percentile.

Can I comment on how grateful we are that we didn't have to go through this. (This is said by the parents of a baby who was off the chart for height and weight at his two month check-up yesterday. Yup, above the 100th percentile. What is it about these breast fed baby boys?)

Introduction.

2009-08-17T15:22:00.006-07:00

Meet David.

Acquisition.

2009-05-17T18:17:00.004-07:00

Due to the increasing heat, and the utter lack of skirts or dresses that fit right now, I went shopping yesterday. I purchased this dress:

When Chris saw it, he said it looked like a Vera Bradley purse.

I guess I see what he means.

Completion.

2009-05-16T11:01:00.003-07:00

Likely no one has noticed, but there has been a lack of updates on my progress with my self-imposed reading list. This is because I have spent the last five months reading the same freaking book. The book is Cryptonomicon by Neal Stephenson. I read Snowcrash, and really liked his style of writing. Chris read Cryptonomicon first, and was actually laughing out loud. Figuring it must be good if A.) he was able to finish it rather quickly and B.) it appealed to his reading sensibilities, it seemed like a no-brainer to add it to my reading list.

Yup, that was way back in January.

I'm usually able to get through books rather quickly, and please don't mistake me, it is a really interesting and engaging book. Stephenson seems to add these really thorough asides within the book though. For example, in order to give some context for the book, there was a hefty chapter on math theory. This is what tripped me up. (Or in that case, kept putting me to sleep.)

So in summary, it is an excellent book, but perhaps it is best to set aside a month or two to read it.

Decoration.

2009-04-22T19:53:00.003-07:00

Aside from a few pictures given to us by family, the walls of our house have remained pretty bare. Chris and I have talked on and off over the years about correcting this, but little has ever come of it.

Recently, I noticed some framed prints hanging in the pilates studio I go to. My instructor told me the artist is Nikki McClure, and they both went to Evergreen College. She directed me to a website where I could look at more of her art, and purchase prints if I liked them. I found several that I like, and am now working on getting them framed.

I really like the simplicity and colors of her work. I just wanted to share.

Impression.

2009-04-21T20:01:00.002-07:00

Today, during the commute home, I felt the most profound movement I have yet experienced during this pregnancy.

This was the song playing on the radio. I'm not sure that this is what was causing all the commotion. It was a pretty memorable moment, regardless.

Congestion.

2009-02-22T11:02:00.002-08:00

Yesterday was my 30th birthday. All day I was a pretty miserable mess, but it had nothing to do with getting a year older. I've been coming down with a pretty nasty cold, and it hit full force on Saturday. We tried to make the best of the day. We took the dog for a brisk, very chilly walk on the beach at Witler Park. Chris was also wonderful and took my out to a fun local restaurant for soup. (And mint chocolate cake. It was my birthday after all.)

Conversation.

2009-02-19T20:41:00.002-08:00

After quite some hiatus, my triumphant return. Hold the fanfare, please. (I decided for several months that I no longer wanted my job and wanted to find a way to run away from life. I'm not the first, not the last, and like most people, I'm getting over it.)

For your entertainment, a brief snippit of an email sent to a dear friend:

Me: Is it me, or is there a negative correlation between boob-size and brain function.....I swear I will sometimes get mid-sentence and forget entirely what I was trying to say. A really delusional patient also stopped by the nurse's station today to tell me, "Lacie, your boobs are too big." My response, "Don't I know it." So nice of her to wake up from her chronic schizophrenia to let me know she noticed.

Discontinuation.

2008-09-09T18:26:00.004-07:00

The lack of recent posts is due in part to a rather chaotic and overwhelming personal situation. Fear not, I've enlisted the help of an outside contractor. (This is a very fancy way of saying that I'm seeing a therapist.) No major resolution yet, but an outside perspective has been incredibly helpful.

Very briefly, a major part of my current difficulty has to do with my job. Please note, I love the work I do. For the most part, I also like my co-workers. As luck would have it, I'm also a bit traumatized by the work I do. And the part about liking my co-workers, well, I really must stress that this isn't all the time. I guess it takes a very special person to work with institutionalized chronically mentally ill people. Ladies and gentleman, I admit that I am just not that special.

Now that I've been a downer, go look at happy t-shirts.

Diversion.

2008-08-19T18:05:00.002-07:00

This is quite possibly my favorite means of wasting time online.
I keep checking in the hopes that it has been updated recently, but alas, no.

The pink plastic lawn flamingos posted on April 17 still might be my favorite.

Indulgence.

2008-08-16T09:52:00.003-07:00

Pictured above is a giant container of Kopiko coffee candies, currently located on the right hand side of my desk. They taste exactly like Thai coffee, only in hard candy form.

What you are looking at is a big plastic tub of happy.

Idiosyncrasy.

2008-08-12T21:11:00.002-07:00

Someone pointed out to me today, I have a habit of saying 'hello' or 'good morning' in a sing-song manner. They did not clarify if they felt this was an annoying habit.

At first this made me feel like a wanna-be Mary Poppins. Then, I felt kind of weirded out that someone noticed this minute detail about me.

Vacation.

2008-08-02T20:04:00.002-07:00

I returned from a mini-break to Vegas earlier this week. It was an excellent time. While there, we:

- Danced more than we slept
- Walked the strip and saw many casinos
- Drank copious amounts of watered down beer
- Met surprisingly down-to-earth locals
- Had an alcoholic slushie for breakfast
- Got a pretty hardcore workout on the dancefloor

All in all, an indescribably good time. The amount of time we spent dancing reminded me of this:

Redemption.

2008-07-23T20:29:00.001-07:00

So Chris will no longer think I'm insane when I'm quoting lines from this song.

Germination.

2008-07-22T21:33:00.004-07:00

I've updated photos on my photo stream. Included, you will find numerous photos of basil plants. All of them survived growth from seed. Rather unexpectedly.

Compassion.

2008-07-21T19:55:00.002-07:00

I've been ruminating on this for a while, trying to put it into words. I'm not certain it will come out as I intended, but here it goes.

In the book the Court of the Air, there is a segment of the story where the heroine is talking to another character about the fantastic events taking place. She states that if some tried to write a cheap paperback about it, they would make her out to be confident and decisive. In reality, she states that she is just following along with events beyond her control, and that someone else should have been chosen, someone who would have been brave. The other character replies that she was chosen because for her, there was no choice. Someone else facing that situation would have seen options other than going forward and putting themselves in danger. For the heroine, though, there was no option other than doing what she believed to be right and good.

A friend at work and I were having a conversation about this today. Very often, I feel that I see situations in a very concrete way. My actions are directed by what I believe to be right, and there simply isn't any other option. My fear is that this view of things makes me appear very unsympathetic and unfeeling towards others who do see options, and who would choose differently that I would. If the situations were reversed, I guess I would wish to be treated in a fairly open and compassionate way.

It was a good conversation, and something I'll likely be thinking over long into the future. It isn't as much a talk about right vs. wrong, but more about priorities, values and character. Again, I'm likely expressing this very poorly, but this line of thinking is keeping the brain nicely occupied.

Lamentation.

2008-07-18T12:44:00.003-07:00

Muchas Gracias, the local chain of cheap, authentic Mexican restaurants, has opened a store in Portland. Every time I ride past on my way home from work, it reminds me of the Dunkin' Doughnuts experience - It smells wonderful, but nothing good will come of walking inside those doors. A co-worker and I broke down and went to Muchas for lunch.

I think quesadilla might be Spanish for regret.

Continuation.

2008-07-17T20:38:00.003-07:00

I just finished the second book selected from my reading list*. The Court of the Air by Stephen Hunt. I thought that it started off really well, but by the middle I was feeling very meh about it. In fact, I took a break and read an entirely different book rather than plug along to chapter 18. After finishing Hogfather in roughly two days, I picked it back up and plowed through.

Very briefly, here are my thoughts:
- This may be classified as steampunk, but it reminded me of William Gibson, and this kept me going through the middle bit.
- Hats off to authors willing to kill off beloved characters when the story line dictates it, even though it makes it a difficult read.
- It was incredibly violent. Enjoyable, but I will not lie, violent.
- This book touched on more topics than I can count. From environment to politics, and even the nature of good and evil, it covered a lot. It gave me a lot to think over. This is ultimately what I look for and enjoy in reading.

*The list is now at 168. I still have quite a few trips to the library in my future.

Indignation.

2008-07-08T18:02:00.002-07:00

Just because it was a good film or book does not mean it should be made into a musical.

Please stop this madness.

Or will it come to this?

Commemoration.

2008-07-07T18:04:00.002-07:00

In response to a query:

Tempeh is a fermented soybean cake, similar to tofu, but greatly different in texture and in taste. As opposed to tofu, the brand of tempeh we buy has is higher in protein, has a slightly nutty flavor, and lacks that gelatinous, goopy texture. Odd bit of trivia: I possess a book instructing me how to make tempeh in my bathtub.

For the 4th of July, I tried a new recipe for BBQ tempeh sandwiches. It turned out really well. For those of you with experience in cooking with vegetarian meat-substitutes, you may be familiar with the self-contained, non-sizzley veggie burger patty. It was nice to work with tempeh, which does absorb the marinade and browned nicely at the corners. I also put in a little extra chipotle powder, as well as chili flakes. Chris seemed to enjoy it a great deal. (It was distinguished by being described as 'wonderful' as opposed to the standard 'not bad'.)

I have never tried making tempeh in my bathtub.

Required.

2008-06-30T18:30:00.007-07:00

As mentioned earlier, Saturday was a big day. We went to the North American Organic Brew festival, stopped for dinner at Fire on the Mountain, and then met up with friends to see the movie Wanted. (It was immediately after that we went to the Rock Band party.)

Maybe it is because it was one of the songs that came up in the game, but I'm finding that every time I see an advertisement or review for the movie Wanted, my brain sees this:

but I hear this:

Oh how I wish it would stop.

Calculation.

2008-06-30T16:05:00.003-07:00

How many grown adults does it take to trim Georgia's nails?

So far, we have a high of three and a low of two.

Next time, we are going to try one adult and one dose of tranquilizers. (I never thought it would come to this, but after months of crying, squirming, and nails cut too short, here we are.)

Don't be fooled by appearances.
She's actually a mule.

Fascination.

2008-06-29T11:25:00.002-07:00

Last night, we were invited to a Rock Band party. (I was confused at first. I thought maybe they were inviting us over to drink copious amounts of sugary energy drinks.) After some initial hesitation, we both jumped in and started playing. I rocked the bass, and had a tremendous amount of fun. (It is only fair to clarify, my definition of 'rocked' means playing the easy level on the warm up songs.) Very likely, I looked like an idiot, but was having far too good a time to care.

The entire evening reminded me of a comic I had seen a while ago on another weblog.

Apprehension.

2008-06-27T18:10:00.002-07:00

It seems that this was the week for doing things that frighten me. So far, I have:

-Gone for a bike ride after dusk
-Talked with my boss about a potential change in job duties
-Responded every time an emergency code was called at the hospital

And you know what? I'm doing okay*. It seems like a perverse kind of wisdom, but there is a certain kind of freedom in finally doing that things that you fear.

*Regarding point number three, I did get a bit bruised when a patient was trying to attack a staff member. I survived, though, and hopefully earned some credibility for showing up when things got scary.

Ambition.

2008-06-25T09:30:00.002-07:00

After being encouraged several times by friends and loved ones, I finally have made a list of books I would like to read in my lifetime. This followed several conversations in which I related that I enjoy reading good books by familiar authors, but I would like to expose myself to some different styles, genres, and authors as well.

I reviewed several recommended reading lists, and have composed a list of about one hundred and fifty books. Some are authors I've meant to read, others are different titles from authors I have read in the past and greatly enjoyed. There are a good many that I've never heard of the author or title before, too.

After requesting as many books as I could from the library, the books are starting to roll in. First was The Handmaid's Tale by Margaret Atwood. I picked it up last night and am almost halfway through. So far, it has been excellent. It can be satirical, even funny, but very challenging and insightful. I also like the blending of the timeline, more so than in books like the Time Traveler's Wife or Virgin Blue. By far my favorite recommendation for this book is from the Houston Chronicle. "...Read it while it's still allowed."

Meditation.

2008-06-24T20:32:00.002-07:00

I would say that I co-lead the Mindful Relaxation group today, but that would be an exaggeration. It would be more accurate to say that I got to practice mindfulness while pretending to help teach the group.

My favorite part? We were talking about meditation, and I noticed a group member had fallen asleep. When I woke her up, she looked at me and said, "I was meditating?"

So then we spent a little time talking about how meditation really isn't the same as napping.

Erudite.

2008-06-21T17:58:00.003-07:00

I just saw this on Toothpaste for Dinner. Cracked me up, especially as I had spent the previous twenty minutes maxing out my on-line hold requests at the library. I acknowledge that this short posting has managed to combine comics and bookishness, and this makes me a sad, sad nerd.

Classification.

2008-06-21T08:28:00.002-07:00

For whatever reason, I encountered a large number of very friendly lesbians on the bus ride home last night. (I think they were meeting up to go out for drinks. Perhaps because they all got off the bus together and went into the brewpub.) After they had all exited the bus, the very drunk man sitting in the front row shouted, "Well that was a batch of 'em." It cracked me up, because at that very moment, I had been running through different terms for groups.

Me: (thinking) "Herd? No. Gaggle? No."
Drunk guy: "Well that was a batch of 'em."
Me: (thinking) "What? Like cookies?"

Transference.

2008-06-18T20:20:00.002-07:00

n. In psychoanalysis, the process by which emotions and desires originally associated with one person, such as a parent or sibling, are unconsciously shifted to another person, especially to the analyst.

I was hesitant to use this term, but it does seem to fit. My understanding of it has always been tied to the client/therapist relationship, but it does apply outside of the clinical practice context.

And, I realized I was being reminded of one of my favorite professors from college. I still feel like a creepy weirdo though.

Doppelganger.

2008-06-17T19:29:00.002-07:00

This has been itching at the back of my brain all day. Is there a word or phrase that describes the phenomenon where one person feels unconditional positive regard for another person based entirely on that second person's resemblance to a person that initially inspired those positive feelings? (For example: You feel inclined to like a little old lady because subconsciously she reminds you of your beloved grandmother.)

I have a co-worker that I am irrationally disposed towards liking. Every time I see him, I find myself smiling, and can't for the life of me piece together why. (At this point, I have to be giving off a pretty distinct creepy vibe.) If finally occurred to me today that I might be associating him with someone positive I've met earlier in my life. I've spent a good portion of the day trying to figure out who that was. No names are springing to mind, and it is making my head hurt.

Perspicacious.

2008-06-16T11:11:00.003-07:00

Very recently, I had the opportunity to attend a dinner hosted by a pharma company. I gather that most of my co-workers shy away from such events as they want to avoid the appearance of impropriety. Me? I suffer no illusions about my decision-making power when it comes to prescribing medications. So, I'm happy to attend events and have nice dinners with cocktails whilst listening to presentations from companies about why their medications are so much better than their competitors. One other attendee did pursue questioning how studies are set up to skew results in favor of the medication the company is trying to push. I don't doubt this for an instant, but as a wise man said, "Everybody Lies."

The point of this post relates to something I noticed during the presentation. The speaker used to be a supervising psychiatrist for the California state prison system. He spoke a bit about government oversite of state psychiatric institutions, which is an especially timely and relevant topic in the state of Oregon. When he asked how things were proceeding here, rather than letting the one person who actually works for this system speak, one of the MDs piped up. This didn't actually bother me very much. What did grate was that he gave an entirely inaccurate answer. I'm able to let this go. (Trust me, I'm able to sleep at night.) However, I'm struggling to understand this response, the need to answer questions even if one doesn't have the information necessary to do so. Is it a guy thing? A power things? What is this need to be the smartest person in the room?

Addiction.

2008-06-13T16:29:00.003-07:00

In my pilates class, we start every session with a little time on the foam roller

It hurt at first, but now I'm finding that I need the stretch it gives me on my upper and lower back. Daily. As in, my back is kind of seized up right now because I didn't have a mat class today. I feel like a heroin addict. I just need a little fix to get me through the weekend. (And though this whole endeavor is a bit expensive, it is in fact cheaper than an actual heroin addiction.)

Deprivation.

2008-06-12T19:28:00.002-07:00

I refer not to my recent lack of posts.

Alas, I must finally acknowledge that I have lost my rings, the only two I ever cared about or wore. I stopped wearing them when I started my job here in Oregon. I was strongly cautioned not to bring anything with me to work if I couldn't live with it being grabbed, broken, stolen, or crushed. I thought I was being appropriate yet cautious by carrying them with me in a pocket in my backpack. I realized I hadn't seen them in a few weeks, but was trying to attribute it to having misplaced them. This past month, it has been the vague hope that they would turn up if I didn't look too hard for them.

Now I acknowledge it.
They are lost.

The monetary loss is something I can easily live with, but as it has been said, "Well, it won't bring in much cash, but its sentimental value is through the roof!"

Visitation.

2008-03-27T20:33:00.003-07:00

A couple of weeks ago, we finally went to check out Voodoo Doughnuts. If not for the fact that it was after 2 a.m., and a number of adult beverages had been consumed prior to our little trip, we might have recognized this was not a good idea. (What can I say, it was pretty late, it sounded like a good time, and we were all wanting a brain break after two complete rounds of Settlers of Catan.)

The mixed box of a dozen doughnuts seemed like a good value, and we did share some with a couple of transients camped out on the sidewalk nearby. (Again, don't ask. It seemed like a really good idea at the time.) I got to try the Voodoo Doughnut roll, pictured below.

I've never felt so defeated by a food item. Seriously, I wanted a toothbrush about half-way through.

We were downtown last night, somewhat near the store. We saw a group of teenage girls walking by with a box. James happened to remember it was Cockfest Night. For better or worse, we declined to go back.

Divulgence.

2008-03-15T11:01:00.002-07:00

It appears I have a new birthday tradition. Not on the day itself, but a day or so later, something bad is bound to happen. Last year, this. This year, I was punched.

I should explain that given the nature of my job, this was always more of a 'when' than an 'if" scenario. I've heard stories from co-workers, I've been through training, I was very aware of the risk, and it happened anyway. The punch itself wasn't so bad (a closed fist to my forearm), and thank heavens nothing's broken. It has been a strange and difficult thing to process nonetheless.

I'm getting through it, but in the short term, it did impact the way I tried to do my work. Namely, trying to do social work-y stuff inside a secured nursing station. It was much safer, but a bit more difficult to be empathetic when shouting through reinforced safety glass.

Evaluation.

2008-02-27T19:56:00.002-08:00

Quiz night on my birthday was very fun. We went to this mostly fun place in the NorthWest district called the Gypsy. (It wasn't quite kitsch, it wasn't quite classy, but just a weird blend of both.) The theme of the quiz was the Oscars. Ruth Ellen dominated. Her superior knowledge had our team in a healthy lead right up to the final round. We didn't end up winning. However, we did win free tickets to an advanced showing of Semi-Pro. Not so bad at all.

This quiz was different from the ones I'd gone to in N. Ireland. There, the quiz master asked a series of questions, and who ever had the most right answers won. Our quiz master had different rounds and different types of puzzles. Our team managed the list of questions, identifying movie posters, an A to Z quiz, and even the Oscar name jumble. (There are lot more famous Oscars than I realized.) What tripped us up was the three top teams competing Jeopardy-style on one final question. And then we lost.

It was great fun though.

Getting to see a free movie out of the whole deal was pretty sweet too.

Celebration.

2008-02-21T18:11:00.002-08:00

So, today marks the auspicious anniversary of my entry into this plane of existence.

More simply put, ismaburfday.

Plans for the evening include trying a new thai place, and later on going to a pub quiz. (Are other people familiar with this? I swear I've had to explain the concept to everyone who's asked my plans for tonight....)

So far, my luck is holding and 29 is working out a lot better than 28.

Not a single broken finger yet.

Consolation.

2008-01-27T18:09:00.000-08:00

I don't know how the wires got crossed in my brain, but I've noticed my immediate response to someone dealing with bad news is to offer a warm drink.

Lost your job? Here, have some tea.
Dealing with some medical ailment? Let's go get a coffee.
Passed over for a promotion? How about some chai.

I come from a community that expresses sympathy in the form of a casserole, so I guess this isn't too far out there. It is just a strange sensation to respond to any and all unpleasant news by immediately looking for a coffee pot.

Reduction.

2008-01-18T19:08:00.000-08:00

I thought I might want to take a stab at being a Luddite.

Then I thought about posting on this blog about the topic.

Dammit, brain. Work properly.

Relevant.

2008-01-17T19:43:00.000-08:00

Oddly enough, a co-worker very recently told me I was earning all sorts of good karma. I told her that I'd made the choice to squander all my good karma during this lifetime, and that I planned to dedicate more of my day to being a real bitch. It was obvious who was eavesdropping. Another co-worker started laughing hysterically. He did manage to get out the words, "I think you might need to take lessons."

I think that maybe I need to beef up my "domineering bitch" persona. No one seems to be buying it at present.....

Conclusion.

2008-01-08T18:13:00.000-08:00

Things I have decided today:

1.) Strange creatures not only survive in beauricratic environments, they usually tend to become your boss.
2.) There isn't nearly enough Hindi pop music on my Ipod.
3.) Working with bipolars with early stage Alzheimer's isn't a great job choice for someone who doesn't like to re-explain the same damn thing over and over and over.
4.) I'm not earning good karma points, I'm barely balancing out the amount of time I spend being bitch as it is.
5.) For whatever reason, the transients that ride the Red line tend to smell like Popeye's chicken. Go figure.

Custom.

2008-01-07T18:09:00.000-08:00

This summer, I finally got around to reading this book. (I don't know why, but I was always leery of reading it.)

For no good reason, other than we had pomegranate seeds handy, I made manna last night. It was good, if not sticky. The act of making it though, it really made me wish I had more of a heritage to pass on to a new generation, meaningful acts and traditions.

It could just be that I'm getting old though.

Non-specification.

2008-01-02T21:06:00.000-08:00

RABBITS!RABBITS!RABBITS!RABBITS!RABITS!

LIKE A LITTLE FLOWER!

RABBITS!RABBITS!RABBITS!

This is entirely random if you haven't seen this episode. It might not make sense even if you have. Sorry. Just in a random and strange mood tonight.

Credit for photo where it is due.

Vintage.

2007-12-04T19:32:00.000-08:00

We were listening to our local NPR station (24 hour party people, that's us), and I happened to catch a story on MarketPlace. It was about how Goodwill is starting to take advantage of some of the quality vintage clothing donated to their stores by selling it on ebay and in special boutiques. My first thought was that this takes away most of the fun of going to Goodwill; digging though tons of stretched out sweaters and fugly pantsuits and finding that one, really great item.

My personal best find: A MacIntosh brand winter coat found in a Toledo Goodwill for around $12.

Observance.

2007-11-02T18:20:00.000-07:00

Yesterday, the day after Halloween, I was walking around our local grocery store. I couldn't help noticing that all of the orange and black themed fun-sized candy had been replaced with red and green themed fun-sized candy. And I realized that all too quickly, another year has passed. From the first "Thanksgiving is my favorite holiday because it can't be commercialized" lecture, to the various outlines of ways the true meaning of Christmas is being attacked, the recylcled expressions of the holidays greet us again. I can hardly believe another year has passed. It seems like only a few weeks ago I was opening forcefully cheery cards wishing me and my family a very merry CHRISTmas!!!

Oh how time flies.

Ponder.

2007-11-01T19:52:00.000-07:00

Maybe my sample is small and the results are skewed. However, I can't help noticing that the majority of the mentally ill that are "religiously preoccupied" will strip down nekkid in a heartbeat.

Diversion.

2007-10-20T20:11:00.000-07:00

Cyanide & Happiness @ Explosm.net

This seemed appropriate as we are learning Georgia is not quite all the way house trained yet....

Ejection.

2007-10-13T09:52:00.000-07:00

In my relatively short professional career, I've been invited to join several book clubs. A similarity I've noticed that spans age, profession, and geography seems to be the type of book deemed appropriate to read in a book club. So far, it includes anything slated to soon be made into a film, or anything recommended by Oprah.

Fo my current group, I suggested Slaughterhouse Five by Kurt Vonnegut.

The other group members were polite in their attempt to kindly express that this was a book they would rather not read. I think there was some concern at first that it might be about a serial killer. I explained that, no, it was science-fiction. Someone tried to supress laughter.

So, I guess that if it isn't a weepy novel, or Oprah doesn't say it is okay, it doens't belong in a book club.
Or is it a matter of science-fiction being considered 'for boys', and book clubs usually being attended only by females?

I don't know.
I am still going to read it.

Rumination.

2007-10-04T19:30:00.000-07:00

The morning and evening Max rides have provided a very nice little window of time to spend any way I want. Like most other commuters, my preferred method of averting eye contact with others is to read. In a little under two weeks, I've finished two more Discworld books. (They really are lovely books. Aside from strange dreams about impending doom, I find I'm very happy and relaxed while reading them.)

I started reading The Electric Kool-Aid Acid Test this week. It isn't a bad book by any means, but I'm very confounded by books that I don't outright enjoy.

Here's the thing: The style of the book is great, the approach is interesting and I have no issues whatsoever about the author. What grates is the people he writes about. Maybe I just have an overly developed need to be subversive, even about counter-cultures, but the LSD movement seems somewhere between condescending and pointless. First, no one enjoys being told what a square they are. Especially by some tweaked out freak painted day-glo orange. Second, if your true intention is to lead people on to a new experience and new way of thinking, how is this possible? Especially when you intentionally create a gulf between yourself and those you want to influence.

Perhaps this is just my contentions with counter-cultures overall. I respect and often even share the values. I just don't see how it changes anyone's minds if both sides have fingers pointed, each labeling the other as "freak".

Anticipation.

2007-09-22T09:28:00.000-07:00

I've finally completed two weeks of orientation for my new job. It comprised of an hour and a half drive every morning to the capitol, consuming large quantities of caffeine in an effort to remain awake, listening to some very interesting classes, and listening to a few boring Powerpoints as well. (It could have been a lot worse, we had some very good trainers.) And then a hour and a half to two hour drive home.

I'm eager to start my actual job.

In listening to the staff training us, it seems that the situations that make for the best stories are situations I won't be encountering. It is good information, and I'm very grateful I'm not working on the maximum security unit. In spending so much time talking about that unit, though, I have no idea what to expect where I will be working.

Commemoration.

2007-09-19T20:23:00.000-07:00

In honor o' today`s international celebration, today`s post be presented in appropriate form. Hope 't be a good one.

And if ye`re curious how a seafarin' hearty would say it.......

Pontificate.

2007-08-31T09:38:00.000-07:00

What follows is a rant based solely on my failure to read labels. It is my own fault.

That said.......

It seems that an alarming number of manufacturers of semi-healthy food products now feel compelled to add Spirulina to the ingredients. I'm not contesting the claims made about it and whatever benefits to health it may have. I'm not even saying that I dislike it in certain products. What I am saying is that I wasn't in the ice cream aisle because I was looking for something chock full of vitamins and minerals. I was trying to figure out why the Green Tea flavored Soy Dream (or, soy scream) tasted so weird when I finally flipped over to the ingredients. I felt a little betrayed.

When spirulinia turned up in a bottle of green tea I purchased though, I was just angry. Again, this could have been avoided it I had just looked at the label. I maintain, however, it was an honest mistake. It certainly must have been a challenge for the company to come up with a more unique name for this tea beverage that was a greenish color due to the addition of an algae product.

Unresolved.

2007-08-28T14:55:00.000-07:00

I'm trying not to repost things I've already posted, but my love for Daft Punk cannot be denied. This came to mind after reading another blog, where an upcoming movie was mentioned. (Please bear in mind the name of the blog before making any judgements.)

I don't know how I would deal with a feature length film starring the robotic duo. However, I did like Interstella 5555 quite a lot.

Captivation.

2007-08-21T09:57:00.001-07:00

Per the BBC News Service, I became aware of an all male ballet troupe, Les Ballets Grandiva from New York. They are currently in Australia, preparing to perform their hit show, Men in Tutus.

I am intrigued. (Photo per BBC.)

Deception.

2007-08-16T12:32:00.000-07:00

Following a link from Moby's blog, I found myself looking at the portfolio on this webiste. I don't know if I should feel angry or relieved. Looking at the before and after though, it struck me that a lot of those photographed who were already thin had to have a little shaved off to look "better". In one case, however, the very thin model seemed to have a little added in the tush in the after shot. (Be thin, but not too thin.)

I'm speechless.

Stupefication.

2007-08-08T20:03:00.000-07:00

Two posts in one day! Shocking, I know.

I really felt I needed to share with someone my growing obsession with Findlay Brown. I randomly downloaded the single Losing the Will to Survive off of iTunes as a free single of the week. I enjoy it so very much.

Please explore his site. There are six songs you can listen to off his album Separated by the Sea.

Traverse.

2007-08-08T10:27:00.000-07:00

I went to visit Victoria in beautiful Seattle this past weekend. It was tremendous fun. In addition to the best Mojito ever, it was great to just spend time with a wonderful friend. She also passed on this article from the Seattle Weekly. Excellent read if you have the time.

Ambition.

2007-07-25T22:59:00.000-07:00

Lest you all worry that I have naught to do during my period of unemployment, let me assure you I have found ways to fill the day.

I have read:
-Guards! Guards!
-Survivor
-Wrinkle in Time
-started and stopped The Fountainhead, twice now.

I have watched:
-Extended versions of the Lord of the Rings trilogy
-Highlander (Somehow missed this gem for a couple of decades...)
-Jay and Silent Bob Strike Back
-Undercover Brother
-the entire series of Firefly

And before you express concern about me spending so very much time sitting on my tush, I have also:
-helped unpack our house
-interviewed for a job
-attended to a very itchy dog belly

Appropriate.

2007-07-24T20:45:00.000-07:00

Today, at the dog park, we met two male dobermans.

They were named Hans and Franz.

Infection.

2007-07-19T12:59:00.000-07:00

This really has gone beyond just a disease. I know this is insane, and yet I want it.

A set of Vera Bradley file folders in Java Blue.

Tranquil.

2007-07-18T14:23:00.000-07:00

I could be spending the afternoon freaking out, worrying, questioning why I left a perfectly good job that I actually enjoyed and jumped into the uncertainty of unemployment.

I could, but it would interupt the tranquility of having a furry black dog snuggled up and taking a nap beside me on a rainy Wednesday afternoon.

Preparation.

2007-07-13T14:15:00.000-07:00

I was curious how long it would take me to start freaking out about not having a job. Even I was a little shocked that it took just two hours after arriving at our final destination.

Conclusion.

2007-07-06T09:24:00.000-07:00

I have found that whenever friends and former Cincinnati residents return for a (brief) visit, there seems to be a list of places they try to squeeze in trips to.

Art museums and historic landmarks, you ask? Of course freaking not.

Usually, it is the local restaurants, coffee houses, ice cream store, and the rare request for a preferred chili joint.

As we prepare to move, I find that Chris and I are sort of doing the same thing. Last time eating the best pizza ever, squeezing in a couple more visits to good Thai restaurants, etc. We also started talking about a few of the places we've always meant to try, but just have never gotten around to.

Today, I finally took the advice of a co-worker and stopped by a local tea house. I kind of regret I never stopped by sooner. The atmosphere was beautiful, and they take their tea quite seriously. On Barb L.'s recommendation, I tried the Bubble Tea. (I got the green tea with simple strawberry syrup.) I may need to stop again before we leave. It was good, but I felt like the tapioca got in the way of enjoying really good tea.

Ineffective.

2007-07-03T05:48:00.000-07:00

Apparently, my scheme to avoid dealing with feelings of loss associated with our move by ignoring said feelings has proven futile.

Chris maintains that the reason I spent last night hunched over the toilet is stress.

I blame the pizza.

Instinctive.

2007-06-28T19:01:00.000-07:00

I was reading a book that had a really great description of how instinct kicks in during a crisis situation. (Eureka Street by Robert McLiam Wilson, I highly recommend it.)

I won't get into the specifics, but I worked today with someone in a horrible situation I couldn't begin to describe. I'm not a trauma worker and can't claim I'm used to working with blood and bones on a daily basis. Some form of professionalism did kick in though, and I was able to maintain some sense of calm.

Somehow, it made me feel far more unsettled than if I had broken down in an empathetic response.

Relocation.

2007-06-20T18:38:00.000-07:00

As we shift through the massive amount of crap we've managed to collect over the past two and a half years, I'm beginning to notice stages to the packing ritual.

Stage 1: Nostalgia. I open a box that has sat, unopened, in our basement since we moved here. I uncover photographs, trinkets, little gifts, letters from college roommates, and other talismans. I feel linked to the past. I am sad.

Stage 2: Earnestness. Packing gets underway with a more sincere effort. I begin to wonder how we fit all this stuff in a moving truck the first time.

Stage 3: Frustration. Why the hell do we still have a Walkman? I guess so we have something that will play the 200 cassettes we're hanging on to. It becomes a lot easier to donate a bag full of winter sweaters sight unseen than to actually sort through them.

Stage 4: Despair. I realize that we've been through this all before. We got rid of junk, condensed down to basics, moved into a new apartment, and wound up replacing all the crap we just got rid of. I begin to suspect that the plastic containers are reproducing.

I fall into an exhausted and uneasy sleep. The cycle begins again, and continues forever.

Articulation.

2007-06-14T13:54:00.000-07:00

Well said.

Nutrition.

2007-06-14T09:00:00.000-07:00

Yesterday, we had an in-service on nutrition issues when working with the elderly. A dietitian came in to speak to us, and it really went a lot better than any of us hoped. (She actually looked like a normal human being, as opposed to the emaciated and unhappy-looking group of nutritionists at the hospital.)

The information was incredibly helpful, and at the end we just started talking about food and nutrition issues we face as individuals. For whatever reason, we started talking about preservatives, sodium, and canned food. I wanted to pass on what I learned. She said that only higher quality fruits and vegetables can be frozen, versus lower grade food that can canned. Apparently, even house brand frozen fruit and vegetables will be of better quality than brand name canned foods.

(Personally, I like packing frozen strawberries with my lunch. They thaw out by lunchtime, and are sweet, soft, never moldy, and I get stawberry juice!)

Unendurable.

2007-06-08T18:36:00.000-07:00

I would say that, for the most part, we don't often get sucked into watching movies we don't end up liking. Thinking back, I don't recall ever leaving a movie theatre due to not liking a movie.
One of the few exceptions is a movie we rented, Coffee and Cigarettes. It seemed like it was going to be really good, but we ended up stopping it halfway through. I will say though, I didn't hate the part with Iggy Pop and Tom Waits.

Recollection.

2007-06-06T04:51:00.000-07:00

Reminded me of Metacognitive Musings and Two Pretzels.

Introspection.

2007-05-30T15:25:00.000-07:00

For better or worse, I had a telephone interview today. By far the most personal question I've ever been asked: "What does the word suffering mean to you?"

Wow.

My response in the comments section. I really hope I didn't bomb it.

Meditation.

2007-05-28T19:27:00.000-07:00

Following is a brief reflection on the inspiration for this blog.

As you may already be well aware, in the movie Clerks, the audience is introduced to a character known as the Chewlies representative. In this movie, he presents an argument of persuasion, substitution, and a truly f#*@ed up train of logic from argument A to conclusion B that has obviously made a lasting impression.

We recently rented Evening Harder, An Evening with Kevin Smith. Listening to him speak, I cannot express enough how much I enjoyed listening to him talking.

I truly appreciate people who can bring you along with their stream of thought, then take an unexpected (and occasionally foul) left hand turn that surprises the hell out of you.

Maybe why I like George Carlin so much?

Donation.

2007-05-23T17:34:00.001-07:00

I am beginning to cope with the realities of planning a move across most of the United States. Part of this is accepting that my plants likely won't survive such a road trip. In response, I'm opening Lacie's Discount Store for Slightly Used Plants. Trust me, these suckers are hearty. They are all still alive.

(Please contact me if you are interested in a sweet deal on a pre-owned plant.)

Predictable.

2007-05-23T04:56:00.000-07:00

Were we supposed to be surprised?