Coldplay Viva la Vida is an excellent CD!
I don't usually like music. Yes, I would much rather sit or drive in silence than with music (usually), but this CD has been playing constantly since Tuesday when I bought it.
I'm not sure what makes it so noteworthy, except that it's different, much different than anything that has come out recently. Every song is unique blending rhythms and vocals, music, guitar and drum solos, and a world theme that incorporates regional sounds.
Anyway, just wanted to let you guys know in case you hadn't heard anything about this CD yet.
Here is the music video for a song called Violet Hill. I think it's the only music video that they have for this CD so far.
Friday, June 20, 2008
Wednesday, June 18, 2008
I don't write very often on this blog. Not like I used to. I wonder why...oh, that's why (sheepish grin). There was a little more incentive to blog when a certain person was a few thousand miles away and not living with me day in and day out.
Another reason is that I've been writing about someone else on a daily basis. I'm creating another person, well several people actually, and I write about them almost every day. Some people would say I'm writing a book, and I guess they might be correct, but I prefer to think that I am completing a prerequisite for my grad school application--a complete fiction manuscript. I spend several hours daily thinking and writing in another world, transitioning between Seattle, France, and various other locations. I've taken a break though for about a week because I'm stumped with Savannah (my title character). I have a tendency to want to make her flawless and I don't like her anymore, she too cute, too friendly, a perfect blend of tomboy phlegmatic and charismatic sanguine, she's athletic, witty, and a sucker for practical jokes. I've been trying for a week to break her down and flaw her, but everything is just too cliche, too realistic, too normal. She needs to give a reader something to strive for, a desire to emulate, an endearing flaw that makes you inclined to root her on and then in spite of yourself you realize that you have grown with her, that she's no longer to be pitied, but she's someone to look up to. I'm rolling my eyes at myself now because I realize that in the past few months I have become a writer and I probably care way too much, but then at the same time not enough. I'm determined though that I will figure her out this week. Maybe I'll go to the mall and eavesdrop on people I walk by. That's sure to give me some good ideas.
When I'm not writing I'm reading. I read almost as obsessively as I write. It's not that I love books or reading, but these books, their authors are my mentors and my teachers. Someone gawked that I was trying to write without formal training, but I just scrunched my nose at them because who better to learn from than those who are the best, who have lasted for decades and centuries and been newly released or come highly recommended. Reading is like studying and learning and being tutored very, very, attentively.
I still eat and sleep and cook meals and do laundry. In fact, I compulsively clean my house because there is nothing like scrubbing toilets and the strong scent of bleach that brings me back to reality. Sometimes I feel crazy because I've spent hours somewhere else, but all along I've been sitting in my house and suddenly I'll surface and I'll feel so stifled and overwhelmed and consumed in my mind that I just scrub and sniff and fold and stir my way back into reality.
And...the best part of my day is limited (to my intense dismay) to a few measly hours every evening that I get to spend with Patrick. He is still my favorite thing and person and friend and I just don't get to spend enough time with him. It's really quite irritating. Here you think "I'll get married to this person and we'll be together all the time" and then you never get to see them! Wouldn't it be smarter if you like someone this much to become co-workers (because no one will hire a husband and wife team!) Anyway, we do our Patrick and Noël things, which is mostly just talking while we walk or play tennis or play video games or read. I think if people could be a fly on the wall at our house they would be so bored. We talk about a lot of boring things and I'm so happy he enjoys it as much as I do!
So, this is why I don't blog often-- I'm either lost in my own head, reading about someone else's make-believe existence, or spending time with Patrick (and other visitors, and our one set of friends Jon and Erin).
I like pictures, so I'll end with this one. I was sewing something last week and I lost my rabbit, seriously had no idea where it went, but after a few hours I found it here:
Another reason is that I've been writing about someone else on a daily basis. I'm creating another person, well several people actually, and I write about them almost every day. Some people would say I'm writing a book, and I guess they might be correct, but I prefer to think that I am completing a prerequisite for my grad school application--a complete fiction manuscript. I spend several hours daily thinking and writing in another world, transitioning between Seattle, France, and various other locations. I've taken a break though for about a week because I'm stumped with Savannah (my title character). I have a tendency to want to make her flawless and I don't like her anymore, she too cute, too friendly, a perfect blend of tomboy phlegmatic and charismatic sanguine, she's athletic, witty, and a sucker for practical jokes. I've been trying for a week to break her down and flaw her, but everything is just too cliche, too realistic, too normal. She needs to give a reader something to strive for, a desire to emulate, an endearing flaw that makes you inclined to root her on and then in spite of yourself you realize that you have grown with her, that she's no longer to be pitied, but she's someone to look up to. I'm rolling my eyes at myself now because I realize that in the past few months I have become a writer and I probably care way too much, but then at the same time not enough. I'm determined though that I will figure her out this week. Maybe I'll go to the mall and eavesdrop on people I walk by. That's sure to give me some good ideas.
When I'm not writing I'm reading. I read almost as obsessively as I write. It's not that I love books or reading, but these books, their authors are my mentors and my teachers. Someone gawked that I was trying to write without formal training, but I just scrunched my nose at them because who better to learn from than those who are the best, who have lasted for decades and centuries and been newly released or come highly recommended. Reading is like studying and learning and being tutored very, very, attentively.
I still eat and sleep and cook meals and do laundry. In fact, I compulsively clean my house because there is nothing like scrubbing toilets and the strong scent of bleach that brings me back to reality. Sometimes I feel crazy because I've spent hours somewhere else, but all along I've been sitting in my house and suddenly I'll surface and I'll feel so stifled and overwhelmed and consumed in my mind that I just scrub and sniff and fold and stir my way back into reality.
And...the best part of my day is limited (to my intense dismay) to a few measly hours every evening that I get to spend with Patrick. He is still my favorite thing and person and friend and I just don't get to spend enough time with him. It's really quite irritating. Here you think "I'll get married to this person and we'll be together all the time" and then you never get to see them! Wouldn't it be smarter if you like someone this much to become co-workers (because no one will hire a husband and wife team!) Anyway, we do our Patrick and Noël things, which is mostly just talking while we walk or play tennis or play video games or read. I think if people could be a fly on the wall at our house they would be so bored. We talk about a lot of boring things and I'm so happy he enjoys it as much as I do!
So, this is why I don't blog often-- I'm either lost in my own head, reading about someone else's make-believe existence, or spending time with Patrick (and other visitors, and our one set of friends Jon and Erin).
I like pictures, so I'll end with this one. I was sewing something last week and I lost my rabbit, seriously had no idea where it went, but after a few hours I found it here:
Sunday, June 15, 2008
Arbie
Meet Arabella, "Arbie." We've been meaning for MONTHS to find a second car and eliminate the 6+ hours per week that I spend driving Patrick to and from work in order to get to my job by 7:30am!
I've considered so many different cars. A Toyota, of course. I'm pretty sure I might now be excommunicated from my family now that I drive a (gasp) Volkswagen! Something with air bags, a roof, fewer than 100,000 miles, and with great gas mileage. But, after a long search I realized that I love old, classic, and vintage so much more than newer practical, safe/boring cars. I prefer to sweat a little, and smell the warm pleather seats, hear the roar of a healthy old engine, and coax my little cars through several more thousand miles--I'm referring to my Mustang and now my VW Cabriolet.
I found this car on Craigslist yesterday morning and decided it was "the one."
1992
$2,300.00
125,000 mi.
6 sp. manual
power windows
New breaks, catalytic converter, shocks, and a new cover still in the box
30 MPG in the city
Nothing but Blue Sky!
Wednesday, May 28, 2008
This, seriously, would only happen to me
I get myself into quite a few predicaments. I'm not sure why or how these unfortunate events or situations seem to come upon me, but I think I will definitely remember today's encounter.
I got to work, happily, at 10:25. 5 minutes to find a parking space and walk in. The only problem in a town like Laguna Beach is that every inch seems to be taken by a house or some beach bungalow. The high school didn't have room to build a parking lot, so the neighborhoods around the school are completely lined with cars and I began searching for an opening. I circled the school twice and called Mishelle to let her know I would be in in a few minutes (everyone understands parking trouble at this school). As I rounded the school for a third time and almost resigned to parking downtown (1 mile away) I saw a spot on the school side of the street right in front of the baseball diamond and the running track. There was a large opening between a convertible Mustang and an old Chevrolet Impala. I looked at the curb, looked at my watch (noting that I was now 12 minutes late) and squeezed right in. Perfect parking job with plenty of space in front of, and behind my car. As I was about to turn off my engine and pull up my emergency break (since my car was angled downhill from the hood side) my foot slipped, my car stalled, and it rolled FAST towards the car that was once 2 ft. in front of me and was now about 2 inches from my bumper!
I slammed my foot on the break and held it there, afraid to move. If I put my car into reverse then the split second that it rolled forward would have done damage to the Impala. I panicked and called every male that I know. None of them answered after several tries. I started to cry. I was stressed, unable to contact anyone, and 5 minutes into the predicament my knee, which I think I sprained this weekend, began to shake and I had to hold it on the break while it throbbed.
I was sitting in my car crying and I noticed out of the corner of my eye that a heavy old man was walking out of his house across the street toward me. I rolled down my window and he shook his head as if to shame me and said, "Do you realize you are right up against the bumper of the car in front of you?"
"Yes, sir. I'm trying to call for some assistance, but I'm not sure what to do." Voice dripping with tears from pain and panic.
"Well, I'm certainly not going to help you, you better hope that you can pump in a lot of gas and get out of there." He shook his head at me again and laughed in a mocking tone.
"I'm afraid it will roll forward."
"It better not!" Then he walked back to his side of the street to watch.
I felt shamed and began to cry all the harder, then tried calling my mom. She answered! For 10 minutes she and I talked about the possibilities of what I could do. The entire time he was watching and I was crying and we couldn't think of anything and my leg was shaking so badly I thought it was going to give out.It was now 20 minutes from the onset of the incident and I had no idea what to do. I saw a campus security guard walk up and ask me for my ID and information because they had gotten a call about my misconduct and I was getting in trouble. He had called the school to get me in trouble when I was obviously in the predicament! At the same time they arrived he came out of his house, shook his head at me, reached into his pocket, pulled out the keys to his Impala and pulled it forward about 5 inches even thought there was an entire car length of space in front of him! It had been his car all along and for 20 minutes I had bawled and strained my knee while he watched unconcerned.
As he got out of his car I said,
"Thank you sir, I'm sorry that you had to move your car."
"If you don't know how to drive your car, then you don't have any business driving Lady!" He shook his head and I squirmed out of the tiny parking spot and drove down town where I could safely park in a level parking space 1 mile away.
I arrived at work huffing, sweating, splotchy faced, pink-eyed, 40 minutes late.
The moral of the story is that I will never ever parallel park on a slope. And I hope that whatever made the old man so mean will be rectified soon. I can't imagine what a hard heart he must have!
Here is a picture that was taken while they filmed Laguna Beach to show you how bad the parking is!
I got to work, happily, at 10:25. 5 minutes to find a parking space and walk in. The only problem in a town like Laguna Beach is that every inch seems to be taken by a house or some beach bungalow. The high school didn't have room to build a parking lot, so the neighborhoods around the school are completely lined with cars and I began searching for an opening. I circled the school twice and called Mishelle to let her know I would be in in a few minutes (everyone understands parking trouble at this school). As I rounded the school for a third time and almost resigned to parking downtown (1 mile away) I saw a spot on the school side of the street right in front of the baseball diamond and the running track. There was a large opening between a convertible Mustang and an old Chevrolet Impala. I looked at the curb, looked at my watch (noting that I was now 12 minutes late) and squeezed right in. Perfect parking job with plenty of space in front of, and behind my car. As I was about to turn off my engine and pull up my emergency break (since my car was angled downhill from the hood side) my foot slipped, my car stalled, and it rolled FAST towards the car that was once 2 ft. in front of me and was now about 2 inches from my bumper!
I slammed my foot on the break and held it there, afraid to move. If I put my car into reverse then the split second that it rolled forward would have done damage to the Impala. I panicked and called every male that I know. None of them answered after several tries. I started to cry. I was stressed, unable to contact anyone, and 5 minutes into the predicament my knee, which I think I sprained this weekend, began to shake and I had to hold it on the break while it throbbed.
I was sitting in my car crying and I noticed out of the corner of my eye that a heavy old man was walking out of his house across the street toward me. I rolled down my window and he shook his head as if to shame me and said, "Do you realize you are right up against the bumper of the car in front of you?"
"Yes, sir. I'm trying to call for some assistance, but I'm not sure what to do." Voice dripping with tears from pain and panic.
"Well, I'm certainly not going to help you, you better hope that you can pump in a lot of gas and get out of there." He shook his head at me again and laughed in a mocking tone.
"I'm afraid it will roll forward."
"It better not!" Then he walked back to his side of the street to watch.
I felt shamed and began to cry all the harder, then tried calling my mom. She answered! For 10 minutes she and I talked about the possibilities of what I could do. The entire time he was watching and I was crying and we couldn't think of anything and my leg was shaking so badly I thought it was going to give out.It was now 20 minutes from the onset of the incident and I had no idea what to do. I saw a campus security guard walk up and ask me for my ID and information because they had gotten a call about my misconduct and I was getting in trouble. He had called the school to get me in trouble when I was obviously in the predicament! At the same time they arrived he came out of his house, shook his head at me, reached into his pocket, pulled out the keys to his Impala and pulled it forward about 5 inches even thought there was an entire car length of space in front of him! It had been his car all along and for 20 minutes I had bawled and strained my knee while he watched unconcerned.
As he got out of his car I said,
"Thank you sir, I'm sorry that you had to move your car."
"If you don't know how to drive your car, then you don't have any business driving Lady!" He shook his head and I squirmed out of the tiny parking spot and drove down town where I could safely park in a level parking space 1 mile away.
I arrived at work huffing, sweating, splotchy faced, pink-eyed, 40 minutes late.
The moral of the story is that I will never ever parallel park on a slope. And I hope that whatever made the old man so mean will be rectified soon. I can't imagine what a hard heart he must have!
Here is a picture that was taken while they filmed Laguna Beach to show you how bad the parking is!
Friday, May 16, 2008
I jumped in front of the camera
Life has been interesting and routine and inspiring and supernatural and plain --as usual.
I usually write and edit papers with all of my time, spare and paid. I am getting much better with grammar and at being patient, and telling people the truth even though they might get offended. I'm sorry, but you just can't write:
'One of the job descriptions is the “HOG Butcher for the World,” (L.1). There’s not really a problem with being a hog butcher but it does seam like one of the least desirable jobs out there. The best way to really see what kind of a job is desirable is just to take a poll of kids growing up and to find how many want to be hog butchers. The answer would be slim to none that anybody would find a kid who wanted to cut up pigs for his whole life.' (Actual excerpt. You can imagine an entire essay!)
Anyway, that's all for now. I'm going to go eat some watermelon. Oh, that reminds me. I love spring. Every day I eat one grapefruit, about 7 strawberries, some watermelon, and most of the time an apple, asparagus, cucumbers, and carrots. I have definitely been getting my 5-a-day! Mmmmm.
Pictures from my life.
I beat Patrick at Scrabble with TWO 7 letter words "reregard," and "tootled." An extra 100 points. Bam!
Patrick bought me this really cute cookie from Starbucks. I really really like pink sprinkles. Not the taste silly, but their appearance.
We went beach bumming tonight and the camera came along.
The ever popular shaky face pictures are so cool but I seem to lack the talent. here are my brothers.
Here is my sad attempt.
Monday, April 21, 2008
Weekend tales
This weekend was perfect. I don't use the word perfect very often because I don't think very many things are perfect, but this weekend could not have imaginatively been improved in any way, I call that perfect.
As Patrick mentioned in his blog, our rabbit was really almost dead. I didn't know how much I liked it, but after seeing it so sick I felt bad for it and decided that I really like it. We're going to give it a name now because it's suddenly more than the cheap pet store rabbit that if it dies oh well, we'll just get another one. We have had to feed it alphalpha pellets soaked in water blended with baby food vegtables and gatorade. It eats through a turkey baster. I have no idea when I became so animal friendly and sympathetic to little furry things, but I'm glad I'm doing my part to help it recover.
We found mountains on Saturday. This is a weird statement, but we didn't really know we were so close to the mountains. We were looking for a feed store (to get some alphalpha hay for dinner) and suddenly we were looking at the base of a mountain. I hope we can go camping sometime soon. Do any of you like to camp? It's one of my favorite things to do.
I bought the newly released version of Sense and Sensability by BBC. It's 3 hours long and much better than the over dramatized version that is much more popular. It's a similar likeness to the BBC version of Pride and Prejudice that was cheaply and improperly remade with Kiera Knightly as the heroine. Please, if you are going to watch Jane Austen, do her novels justice by watching the BBC versions. They seem to actually care about ethics instead of just money and cheap romatic flutters.
Yesterday Patrick and I went to California Adventure for the afternoon. I was a bench sitter. Yes, I sit while he rides. It's actually not so bad because everyone I see is happy. It is like a weird world where married and dating people are extremely affectionate and mothers with their daughters walk hand in hand looking ever so much alike. Adult children push their parents in wheel chairs while the grandchildren hold the little kids in their laps. People don't care that they have bright pink or black ears on their heads, and men wear hiking backpacks full of fishy crackers and juice packs. I used to go on the roller coasters with patrick, but last time I went I had to clench my teeth to prevent spewing (not fun). I did get to watch the muppets in 3D and I saw my first ever temper tantrum in which the child attempted growling at the top of her lungs to get her way. She tried screaming, yelling, crying, and after 20 minutes (seriously 20 minutes of constant screaming) she growled like a mad dog and pretended to lash out. I was, umm, perplexed. Where was such behavior modeled to a 4 year old? Television? Parents? Hopefully not pets!
We went into Disneyland on our way home in search of frozen minutemaid lemon cups, but we decided those didn't sound good after all and neither did any of the rides, so we went home.
I don't think I ever wrote about an awesome trick we learned about parking at Disneyland. We have a free pass for the Mickey and Friends parking structure (where the tram comes and goes). About two weeks ago Paul called me and said, "Hey, guess where I am." "Where?" "In line for Space Mountain. You and Patrick should come." So, we went to see Paul after Patrick got off of work. At the attendant booth Patrick had a heavy foot and revved the engine. "Are you trying to rush me?" The attendant gave us a suspicious look. "No sir, I'm just anxious to see my brother in law at Disneyland." "Well in that case, here's a free pass for a parking space as close as you can get!"
It was great. Here are some pics from that day.
I had a hard working day today. I worked from 6:30-7:30. PM-PM. 1 measly hour. But, I made a difference in one life for that hour (I love to make myself feel good with cliches).
As Patrick mentioned in his blog, our rabbit was really almost dead. I didn't know how much I liked it, but after seeing it so sick I felt bad for it and decided that I really like it. We're going to give it a name now because it's suddenly more than the cheap pet store rabbit that if it dies oh well, we'll just get another one. We have had to feed it alphalpha pellets soaked in water blended with baby food vegtables and gatorade. It eats through a turkey baster. I have no idea when I became so animal friendly and sympathetic to little furry things, but I'm glad I'm doing my part to help it recover.
We found mountains on Saturday. This is a weird statement, but we didn't really know we were so close to the mountains. We were looking for a feed store (to get some alphalpha hay for dinner) and suddenly we were looking at the base of a mountain. I hope we can go camping sometime soon. Do any of you like to camp? It's one of my favorite things to do.
I bought the newly released version of Sense and Sensability by BBC. It's 3 hours long and much better than the over dramatized version that is much more popular. It's a similar likeness to the BBC version of Pride and Prejudice that was cheaply and improperly remade with Kiera Knightly as the heroine. Please, if you are going to watch Jane Austen, do her novels justice by watching the BBC versions. They seem to actually care about ethics instead of just money and cheap romatic flutters.
Yesterday Patrick and I went to California Adventure for the afternoon. I was a bench sitter. Yes, I sit while he rides. It's actually not so bad because everyone I see is happy. It is like a weird world where married and dating people are extremely affectionate and mothers with their daughters walk hand in hand looking ever so much alike. Adult children push their parents in wheel chairs while the grandchildren hold the little kids in their laps. People don't care that they have bright pink or black ears on their heads, and men wear hiking backpacks full of fishy crackers and juice packs. I used to go on the roller coasters with patrick, but last time I went I had to clench my teeth to prevent spewing (not fun). I did get to watch the muppets in 3D and I saw my first ever temper tantrum in which the child attempted growling at the top of her lungs to get her way. She tried screaming, yelling, crying, and after 20 minutes (seriously 20 minutes of constant screaming) she growled like a mad dog and pretended to lash out. I was, umm, perplexed. Where was such behavior modeled to a 4 year old? Television? Parents? Hopefully not pets!
We went into Disneyland on our way home in search of frozen minutemaid lemon cups, but we decided those didn't sound good after all and neither did any of the rides, so we went home.
I don't think I ever wrote about an awesome trick we learned about parking at Disneyland. We have a free pass for the Mickey and Friends parking structure (where the tram comes and goes). About two weeks ago Paul called me and said, "Hey, guess where I am." "Where?" "In line for Space Mountain. You and Patrick should come." So, we went to see Paul after Patrick got off of work. At the attendant booth Patrick had a heavy foot and revved the engine. "Are you trying to rush me?" The attendant gave us a suspicious look. "No sir, I'm just anxious to see my brother in law at Disneyland." "Well in that case, here's a free pass for a parking space as close as you can get!"
It was great. Here are some pics from that day.
I had a hard working day today. I worked from 6:30-7:30. PM-PM. 1 measly hour. But, I made a difference in one life for that hour (I love to make myself feel good with cliches).
An edit to the previous post:
My dad plays the piano and tried to teach me when I was about 6 or 7. My progress was SLOW. I was finally placed in real piano lessons when I was in 6th,7th, and 8th grade because my piano lesson with my dad would always end in tears and frustration and usually my stubbornness would flare and I would fold my arms, pout, and refuse to talk or play. Sometimes I exaggerated my confusion and would make stupid mistakes on purpose because I didn't want to learn.
I think learning to play the piano is so boring. I didn't want to learn to read music to play mary had a little lamb or hupty dumpty. I wanted to play stuff like that (below) to learn Mozart and Bethoven, music that sounded real and good, but I would look at a sheet of music and try a few lines (obviously if I couldn't even play Mary Had a Little Lamb then I could not even begin to think Mozart). My piano career ended when I refused to walk into my piano teacher's house in 8th grade and my parents finally allowed me to stop. I know how to read music and play now, but I still don't like it.
This little girl is lucky. She gets to play the music I always wanted to, but was never good enough to play. I don't think I'll ever be able to because I'm still stuck at show tunes and Disney theme songs.
My dad plays the piano and tried to teach me when I was about 6 or 7. My progress was SLOW. I was finally placed in real piano lessons when I was in 6th,7th, and 8th grade because my piano lesson with my dad would always end in tears and frustration and usually my stubbornness would flare and I would fold my arms, pout, and refuse to talk or play. Sometimes I exaggerated my confusion and would make stupid mistakes on purpose because I didn't want to learn.
I think learning to play the piano is so boring. I didn't want to learn to read music to play mary had a little lamb or hupty dumpty. I wanted to play stuff like that (below) to learn Mozart and Bethoven, music that sounded real and good, but I would look at a sheet of music and try a few lines (obviously if I couldn't even play Mary Had a Little Lamb then I could not even begin to think Mozart). My piano career ended when I refused to walk into my piano teacher's house in 8th grade and my parents finally allowed me to stop. I know how to read music and play now, but I still don't like it.
This little girl is lucky. She gets to play the music I always wanted to, but was never good enough to play. I don't think I'll ever be able to because I'm still stuck at show tunes and Disney theme songs.
Sunday, April 20, 2008
Tuesday, April 01, 2008
I'd like to share our previous three dinners Sunday night, Monday night, and tonight.
It's just a glimpse into my kitchen since I know a lot of you read the Pioneer Woman blog. I like to cook new things that are fresh and light and not always balanced. I get my recipes from Williams-Sonoma and some from allrecipes.
I had my mom perm my hair last week
...and this is what it looked like today after I styled it.
I guess when God said let Noël have straight hair, the keratinized proteins obeyed (and I guess they continue to).
My rabbit has been so clingy lately. The nice thing about rodents (I thought) is that they don't usually like a lot of attention, but this rabbit is so confused. It jolts from its cage when I open it and stops straight at my feet, then paws up my leg to try to get me to pick it up. If I don't, it roosts by my feet. Weird little thing. I accidentally kicked it across the floor once (gently) because it hopped around following my feet while I was moving around the kitchen!
Finally, to share some of my conventionality of late, I was getting ready to give some clothes to Goodwill that I didn't wear anymore, but instead I altered them with my sewing machine for some summery beach shirts. I'm still working on more but I've only had one afternoon so far to work.
The too big red dress becomes an 80's-ish shirt that I think is cute
I don't have a before picture, but it was a big tunic. I sewed cap sleeves and pleated the front.
Thanks for reading!
It's just a glimpse into my kitchen since I know a lot of you read the Pioneer Woman blog. I like to cook new things that are fresh and light and not always balanced. I get my recipes from Williams-Sonoma and some from allrecipes.
I had my mom perm my hair last week
...and this is what it looked like today after I styled it.
I guess when God said let Noël have straight hair, the keratinized proteins obeyed (and I guess they continue to).
My rabbit has been so clingy lately. The nice thing about rodents (I thought) is that they don't usually like a lot of attention, but this rabbit is so confused. It jolts from its cage when I open it and stops straight at my feet, then paws up my leg to try to get me to pick it up. If I don't, it roosts by my feet. Weird little thing. I accidentally kicked it across the floor once (gently) because it hopped around following my feet while I was moving around the kitchen!
Finally, to share some of my conventionality of late, I was getting ready to give some clothes to Goodwill that I didn't wear anymore, but instead I altered them with my sewing machine for some summery beach shirts. I'm still working on more but I've only had one afternoon so far to work.
The too big red dress becomes an 80's-ish shirt that I think is cute
I don't have a before picture, but it was a big tunic. I sewed cap sleeves and pleated the front.
Thanks for reading!
Monday, March 31, 2008
Oh my goodness! I wish there was a word in our language to describe one thing after another, after another, after another, until all you can do is smile and eat ice cream (That is what I'm doing right now).
I just created a new word from Latin roots facmorneurgratous fac-mor-neur-grat-ous, to make crazy nerves joyful. There, I at least feel better being able to name what I'm experiencing!
I just came back from the dentist. My sickness in the past few years has caused the enamel to erode from my teeth and now I have two shallow cavities which, the dentist wanted $400.00 to fix! Please tell me why it costs that much to scrape a little decayed surface enamel and fill it with chemically "safe" plaster.
I shouldn't complain because my aunt works for a dentist in Fresno who has willingly agreed to do the work for free (thank you God for that blessing), but it seems so silly that two people with respectable jobs (at a school district and an aerospace company) would not receive any insurance benefits. My frustration continues...
I work for Laguna Beach Unified School District as a writing consultant. I also tutor privately. The aunt of a student that I tutor offered yesterday evening to forward my resume to her friend, the editor-in-chief of Riviera Magazine. Of course I was extremely excited to have an "in" to the publishing industry until I researched the magazine. Riviera Magazine is THE whose who of Orange County. The magazine publishes about the hottest clubs, nightlife, socialites, and chic fashion. Yes, please go ahead and laugh. If you know anything about me you would fall out of your chair thinking that I might consider editing for this publication. What in the world?!?!
I had visions of a cottage in Oregon overlooking a field or flower garden or a trickling brook where I could drink tea, write and edit manuscripts. I would make friends with simple people and live as a minimalist, giving away extra money. How is it that my opportunities are the exact opposite of this dream? I draw the line at reviewing night clubs and fashion models.
If that isn't enough, I haven't spent unnecessary money in the past several months. Food, rent, hygene, gas, savings, and cleaning products are our "splurges". We love our life, getting creative with outings, cooking masterpieces in our own kitchen, making a trip to Starbucks a novelty, and appreciating simplicity. There is not another thing I would buy if I had more money, but what gets me is that we live sacrificially for ourselves. Not to give money away, not to save for a home or an unknown something, but just to get by. That's sad when we really don't even have a reason to be here in the first place (except for a lease and Patrick's job which is not his life goal).
Beaches are beautiful. Living near the beach I conclude, is a status symbol. Long gone are the beach bungalo's and Moon Doggie surfers.
(Insert a deep breath).
I love the beach and I will cry the day we move from here (most likely), but at the moment I'm realizing that the life we're trying to live here is so radical it's like a salmon swimming up a 50 ft. waterfall.
*If however, you think that you would like to live here...Patrick and I can do it comfortably (meaning that we can buy as many groceries as we want and go out to eat once a week. Sorry, no new clothes or cars though) on his $45,000 salary. If you have a second income, it would be easy. I only say this because I've heard over and over that it's too expensive to live here and we realize that a family can live anywhere if you make the proper sacrifices.
Saturday, March 29, 2008
Blogs are great for people who have cute kids (or a pet that they consider equally as important as a child), are pregnant, watch tv shows consistently, like to cook, and who travel. I don't belong in any of these categories and blogging has kind of fallen on my priority list.
Sometimes I have a good story or two from work, but I'd rather not write something in a sarcastic commentary and be miss-interpreted.
I would love to write my thoughts on things that matter like politics and education and philosophy and religion, but I think I'll start another blog for that, make it private, and invite only myself.
I have though, done some stupid things, and stupid things are always good to post on blogs because then people can laugh at you and they won't equate your actions with your character. (That sounds like a Dostoyevsky-esque thought. Any Crime and Punishment fans out there?)
1. I was making rice. Plain, white, simple, rice. I decided to rinse it as I learned in China, 3 times before you boil it. I put it in a strainer/collander to rinse and it seemed to have decreased in volume. I must have lost a few grains in the process, I thought...
It showed up an hour later when I tried to unclogg my sink and the entire sink shook, then the disposal switch shocked me. Water and rice poured out from under the sink and spewed EVERYWHERE!!! I learned a lesson that day, that rice grains are smaller than the holes in a strainer. [That last sentence is satire.]
2. I'm sitting with a heating pad on my back right now and I have no idea why! For some strange reason my back is tweaked and I can hardly move. At work I get bored sitting, so I prop my feet up on the PC box (I think it's actually called a desktop or tower). It makes a nice footstool while I twist and lean in to work at my desk. When that gets uncomfortable I draw both of my feet up and perch on the swivel chair craining my neck to see over my knees. The most comfortable position though, is one knee up, the other twisted in front of me on the "footstool" and one arm writing at my desk while I have my body and neck strained to look at the computer. Oh, right, tangent. I was mentioning my sore back. Does anyone else have sudden onset backaches?
3. I received my letter of rejection "Thank you for your interest, but we regret to inform you...." I'll continue the job search, but Apple was not encouraging at all! I'm still looking for corporate presidencies, apparently Steve Jobs hasn't resigned yet and they don't consider Hollister appropriate experience! Whatever! I even wore a black turtleneck when I submitted my application, in person, typed.
This could have been me
What is my point?
Sometimes I have a good story or two from work, but I'd rather not write something in a sarcastic commentary and be miss-interpreted.
I would love to write my thoughts on things that matter like politics and education and philosophy and religion, but I think I'll start another blog for that, make it private, and invite only myself.
I have though, done some stupid things, and stupid things are always good to post on blogs because then people can laugh at you and they won't equate your actions with your character. (That sounds like a Dostoyevsky-esque thought. Any Crime and Punishment fans out there?)
1. I was making rice. Plain, white, simple, rice. I decided to rinse it as I learned in China, 3 times before you boil it. I put it in a strainer/collander to rinse and it seemed to have decreased in volume. I must have lost a few grains in the process, I thought...
It showed up an hour later when I tried to unclogg my sink and the entire sink shook, then the disposal switch shocked me. Water and rice poured out from under the sink and spewed EVERYWHERE!!! I learned a lesson that day, that rice grains are smaller than the holes in a strainer. [That last sentence is satire.]
2. I'm sitting with a heating pad on my back right now and I have no idea why! For some strange reason my back is tweaked and I can hardly move. At work I get bored sitting, so I prop my feet up on the PC box (I think it's actually called a desktop or tower). It makes a nice footstool while I twist and lean in to work at my desk. When that gets uncomfortable I draw both of my feet up and perch on the swivel chair craining my neck to see over my knees. The most comfortable position though, is one knee up, the other twisted in front of me on the "footstool" and one arm writing at my desk while I have my body and neck strained to look at the computer. Oh, right, tangent. I was mentioning my sore back. Does anyone else have sudden onset backaches?
3. I received my letter of rejection "Thank you for your interest, but we regret to inform you...." I'll continue the job search, but Apple was not encouraging at all! I'm still looking for corporate presidencies, apparently Steve Jobs hasn't resigned yet and they don't consider Hollister appropriate experience! Whatever! I even wore a black turtleneck when I submitted my application, in person, typed.
This could have been me
What is my point?
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