Tag: postaday2011

enter esther

Window of the Senior Shoppe, winter 2006

I put out a request on Facebook and Twitter to see if any of my knitty friends (not “kitty friends,” as my friend Susan misread) would be interested in a craft trade. I desire some well-made leg warmers. Apparently my kitty friends are too busy with their projects (Christmas present catchup?) to help out, until well past leg warmer weather.

No big whoop. I moved my preoccupations elsewhere. Forward to a few days later, when I needed to kill a few moments waiting for my lunch date. I went into one of the best stores ever, the Senior Craft Shoppe. Exactly as you might imagine — a small store, packed to the gills with crafts of all kinds made by super seniors, and priced right.

It wasn’t until I was inside, ogling the racks and racks of crocheted golf club covers, flannel elephants, telephone book covers, ET AL, that the lightbulb went off.

Me: I want some knitted legwarmers.
Senior Counter Lady: Let me call Esther!

Before I knew it, I was on the phone with Esther (presumably not the Esther of the misaligned ducks). I told her I wanted gray and black striped legwarmers. Esther asked (in an undetermined accent), “What kind of size are you? Are you a regular kind of girl?” After she had gotten my very approximate size, she rang off, promising to call with a quote.

And call she did. She left a message quoting me the cost of the leg warmers. The cost, though reasonable, had me feeling a little regretful. After all, I bought a pair at Fever for a mere couple bucks. What was I doing, commissioning a piece when I needed to save my dollars for tax season? Feeling super-ambivalent, I called Esther back. She answered the phone with the perkiest, nicest “”Hiya, sweetie! What’s cookin’?”

Well, that does it. How can I compete with that kind of cuteness? Suddenly, the cost seemed really small — a custom made order by Esther herself? Priceless.

Update: And here they are. Whoa.

Um. We’ll have to wait and see if I can rock them or no, because the day after I got them the weather shot up to the 70s and hasn’t gone down since.

February 5, 2011
quaint memories of a time gone by

The Today Show doesn’t know what the internet is (from 1994)

[direct link]

Aw, tiny little baby internet. Here is a compendium of memories of first looks at the brand new information superhighway, way back when. Good stuff! Altavista, Archie, BBScom!

I had been hearing about the mythical “web” and the Mosaic web browser for a while (and had been using email since 1989 — a Compuserve account I shared with my boss). I finally used good ol’ America Online to view my first non-AOL web page at some point in the fall of 1996. It was the page for a client of mine, an ISDN User’s Group. I liked it, though I distinctly remember being frustrated at the load time of the graphics, a common emotion for many years to come.

Fun, and possibly cringe-inducing, fact: I still have my AOL account, inherited from the human from whom I bought my design business in the 90s. I reckon this account is 24 years old. I only use it for instant messaging, okay? If you want to IM me, I’m compfree.

February 4, 2011
mighty changes
Mighty Girl wrote a series called Getting My Health Issues In Hand. It’s the blog version of a page-turner. I really like her naked honesty!

In one post she talks about exercise. She asked for input on what works for her readers. This is what I wrote in the comment on her post.
1. I have a workout buddy, and we are committed to showing up to two classes together, same time every week.
2. Classes — so much easier for me to feel like it’s out of my hands when I’m in a class, as opposed to relying on myself to get on the treadmill and punch it to 11
3. On my online dating profile, I said I have a “firm Danish ass” (I wrote this well before firmness was achieved). sounds silly, but this motivates me a LOT
4. I do not focus on a single (or particular) day — whether it’s a success or failure, or whatever. I try to let the workouts get done without too much mental fanfare, because it takes a lot of workouts and a lot of time to pass before the effects get seen/felt.
5. Mix it up. Zumba, step, pilates, yoga, walk, NIA. I get bored easily. In addition to my Y membership, I take yoga at an awesome-yet-expensive studio, with whom I barter flyer design for free classes. I am poor so this works for me.
Updates:

Comment #1 above (about a workout buddy): My workout buddy is SHANA and she has NOT BEEN COMING TO CLASSES. She only occasionally reads this blog, but if you’re reading this, S, get back to the damn Y!

Comment (being motivated to work out by going to classes): the New York Times had an article last week asking if the full-service gym is passe. There seems to be some evidence that connection with one’s peers at a gym can be a promising path to long-term exercise success. I’ll take it.

Comment #3 (my online dating profile “ass” comment): this is true, although the comment is facetious. And I get a number of people that contact me just because of the mention of my ass, and the outrage they feel that I don’t post a picture of it. Yay, singlehood!

Comment #4 (not focusing on a day and its triumph or failure): I have a lot more to say about that in regards to my Regime of Sensibility in general, and will someday. I think the perception of time is something that can trip people up (including myself).

Oh, Mighty Girl also talks about the dentist, which I did comment on, but can’t dwell upon here, because I am one of those people that burst into tears just thinking about teeth.

But someday I will face that, too. In another Regime.
February 3, 2011
don’t speak

I have expressed my ever-growing exasperation with people that can’t stop talking and their inability/refusal to read social clues (the clue being: SHUT UP)

Therefore, I greatly appreciate these songs.

She’s Talking Again by Henry Phillips:

[direct link]
There’s a sequel (He’s Talking Again) that I also like.

You Talk Too Much by Run-DMC:

[direct link]
Gracious, that’s some vintage 80s video awesomeness.

Hush by Kula Shaker:

[direct link]
I don’t think the content of this song actually fits in the theme, but I can’t resist linking to Kula Shaker. Watch this clip, shut up, and shake your ass!

Others?

February 2, 2011
Inspirational words from Steve Holt (Steve Holt!)
- Don’t ask: “Can I?” Ask: “I can!”
- Control your bladder when you’re dead!
- No blood, no oil.
- There’s no I in win!
What a show.
February 1, 2011
gentlemen of the road

Another monthly challenge to myself: read a book, and report on it here (to keep me honest.) These will not be terribly in depth or insightful reviews.

Of all the challenges I am giving myself in 2011, this is one of the hardest. I am so out of the habit of reading books, particularly fiction, that it feels like a chore. This will change, I reckon.

For January, I read Gentlemen of the Road by Michael Chabon.

I wish I could go back in time and read this as a teenager, I would have loved to have been swept up in such a rich and rewarding story. It’s an adventure yarn, pure and simple — even illustrated with old-school plates you might have seen in a book like Treasure Island. It’s easy to read, too — even though it’s dense with names and places and history, I do not feel compelled to backtrack or consult the (imaginary) index.

Chabon can write with such a deft and humorous hand. His protagonists (a Frankish Jew named Zelikman and and Abyssinian mercenary named Amram) are the perfect foils. I related in particular to Zelikman, who was moody and prone to blackness. To wit, in talking about his physician’s practice:

“I don’t save lives,” Zelikman said. “I just prolong their futility.”

Chabon also describes his motives for writing this book in the Afterword, which makes me very happy, in a DVD-commentary kind of way.

January 31, 2011
completely non-lucid dreaming

My visual interpretation of the below.

I was at a New Year’s Eve party somewhere in New York. The party was inhabited by not-friendly strangers. I was in a hurry to leave — I needed to stop at my friends’ house before I caught my flight, which was later in the morning.

As I drove, I kept trying to determine what time it really was — every watch, car clock, phone clock all had a different time and I couldn’t figure out what was Eastern Standard Time. Was I just late, or was I really late?

I sped along the long, low freeways of New York City, passing over not one, but two Brooklyn Bridges. I felt in over my head (as frantic driving dreams on mythical highways cause me to feel.) It was then when I broke down, the car coming to a shuddering stop at the side of the road. I made a call, presumably to AAA, and proceeded to wait for help.

I tried not to be scared. I tried not to trip out about missing my friends and my flight. I tried.. well, to piece together how exactly I came to be driving my own car (the crappy station wagon I really drive) in New York.

Huh, I thought to myself. That’s a puzzler. Maybe I am dreaming.

I leaned against the car, looking out over the water. Okay, so if I’m dreaming, how do I know?

I looked around from the city to the water to my car to the sky. It all seemed real enough. I felt disappointed at this news, since now that it was real, I was going to have to pay to fix my car, and figure out how I was going to fly back to California and get my car back there. This was not a good plan.

When I woke up, and felt the familiar flood of recognition and relief, I made a little pact with myself to create an in-dream “How Can I Tell If I’m Dreaming?” diagnostic test. Any ideas?

January 30, 2011
craftbox: jaws!

One of the weirder crafts I completed for the holidays was for my friend Violet. We were at a nautically themed eating establishment last fall; there were shark jaws hung on the wall — a not-surprising bit of decor. Violet mentioned offhand that it would be cool to have some jaws on her wall, but painted silver!

And, for better or for worse, I overhead that that comment and decided to fulfill her wish.

First, the teeth. I looked at everyone’s favorite online auction site for shark jaws. Lots of choices, lots of price points. I found an affordable one and bought it.

In what is extremely typical behavior of mine, I did not look closely at the measurements, or really at the listing much at all. Hence, the jaws were a bit smaller than I had expected. See the pencil for scale.

Shades of the Tiny Bag, no? (you really should click that link and read about the Tiny Bag)

But I thought (rightly) that I should just soldier on, that a Tiny Shark Jaw painted silver might appeal to the Violet White Funny Bone™.

Man, do I love silver spray paint. I have lots of plans for the rest of that can.

The plaque was the thing that caused the most headaches. Apparently, as clever as I am with manipulating and creating with other media, I know absolutely nothing about painting wood.

One can’t just spray paint raw pine. Ohhh, is that what that “primer” crap is for? Whatever. So I bought some black paint (oil-based exterior Rustoleum, which I was told was overkill) and took it to my painter friend Gary’s house. I stomped my little feet till he painted it for me, just to get me the hell out of there.

Much better. Thanks, Gary!

Et voila. I used some sort of extreme white clear-drying glue to mount the jaws:

And the back, upon which I decoupaged the information sheet that the seller included with the jaws. I’ll bet that spinner shark had no idea that he would live on like this.

Tsk tsk to the wambly placement of the picture hanging thingy. I tell you, that plaque, it was cursed.

Violet seemed to enjoy the gift, and (as I predicted) was amused by the inadvertent miniaturization of this project.

We do enjoy giving odd presents to each other (last year, I gave her a dozen vintage rain bonnets). She says that her gift to me has been sitting on her coffee table for her guests to ponder, and all them deem it “baffling.” Can’t wait! But will it beat a tiny silver shark jaw? Probably! Chomp!

January 29, 2011
let go

My friend Paul and I, both posting daily in 2011, decided to challenge each other once a month to keep things spicy. In his words, “we want to push ourselves to do something more interesting than we might otherwise.” I will put his challenge to me at the bottom of this post — it’s your choice to read the challenge first or not.

– – – – –

Occasionally the stars align and the time becomes right to have a nap. Picture a balmy afternoon, an expanse of time, a gentle breeze, an inviting bed with just-laundered sheets. When this beautiful moment comes, I begin my ritual, one that I’ve had for years.

If it’s handy, I cover myself in the quilt my sister made for me in 1978; it’s the perfect size and warmth for some shuteye; many college friends still know it as the “napping blanket.”

I lie on my back and revel in how good it feels to be there and how lucky I am to be in this place — in bed, in this town, on this earth. The euphoria spreads out from my heart center, out into my extremities.

I concentrate on my breathing. In, out. I recall my old Jivamukti instructor, who urged us to think “LET” on the inhale … “GO” on the exhale.

Let go. Let go. My breathing slows.

This next part is a little hard to describe. I imagine that the shape of my breath changes; instead of my chest and diaphragm rising up and lowering down, I feel it spread towards my head and down towards my feet, much like I’m a liquid being pressed and stretched under a clear glass slide, ready for the microscope. But pressed gently, towards sleep.

Often at this point, I visualize that I’m underwater, under a clear, shallow running stream. Sometimes I imagine I’m some kind of small, amphibious creature, breathing underwater and letting the cool, clear water wash over me as I let go, let go.

My breath sounds like flowing water. Over me, in me. Let go.

I turn to my side just before I drift away, drawing up into a comma as I finally let go.

– – – – –

This post was in response to Paul’s Fourth Friday Challenge to me, January 2011:

I want you to blog about something that gives you deep sense of inner peace and relaxation. I should feel more peaceful after reading it.

– – – – –

Read Paul’s response to my challenge

January 28, 2011
food, glorious food

This is my sister Annie in 2006, when she came out to visit. We were eating the best brunch of our lives.

I am starting to feel better and am struggling to get back into my Sensible Regime of Food and Fitness. No more reality TV marathons and buttered crackers. Sigh.

Since I have a bleak food future ahead and still don’t really have working taste buds, I decided to treat/torture myself and ask my friends for their favorite foods.

Ellen C: I’ve been making good brussel sprouts. But when I was in Italy, I had this pasta with mushrooms and truffles….I cried it was so good.

Turquoise: Macaroni and cheese. With crumbs, mmmm, crumbs.

David: No one makes potato salad like mom.

Ted: I’m all about roasted small (grape or heirloom) tomatoes with a tiny bit of gorgonzola along with a grilled cheese sandwich.

Bev: Mmmmmm…chicken picatta…da best!

Sharon: Last night in my Vegetarian Vietnamese class, we cooked and ate Tofu Puree in Herb Wrappers, Stuffed Grilled Eggplant, Stir-fried Mango and Cashew Nuts, Vegetables with Spicy Curry Paste, and Four Precious Stones Coconut Drink. One of the tastiest meals I have ever had, if I do say so myself.

Ellen L: As long as you’re not actually paying for it, I encourage you to think BIG. I’m all about the lobster smothered in butter followed by a rich creamy tiramisu. That someone else has cooked and will clean up after, of course.

Leanne: spoonfuls of spicy spicy salsa

Brenna: Spicy Mexican or Indian food are always my favorites, esp. when I don’t feel good. Yummmm, I could go for some hot Dal Maharani right now.

Chris: I made pasta e fagioli soup today! And blueberry pancakes with real Vermont syrup. What for dinner though?

Oh my gracious, look at this list. I plan to surreptitiously read and reread these under the covers with a flashlight.

January 27, 2011