It was 112 today. I think it's going to be the same tomorrow.
But, even with that, I discovered the bestest thing in the whole wide world.
JoAnn's is starting to bring in their fall merchandise.
I know, I know, it's 112 degrees outside, and here I am blathering on about fall. And the sad thing is, when fall rolls around, it will still be well into the 90s.
But I love autumn, in theory and in practice, even if we don't really have it out here. And with JoAnn's help, at least I can make it autumn inside my home!!!!
Tuesday, July 13, 2010
Thursday, July 8, 2010
Thinking on Thursday: It's the Little Things
Currently, I'm reading The Happiness Project for my book group. It's making me think a lot--not that this is a hugely challenging book, but it does bring up some relevant points--and consider the things in my life that make me happy or unhappy. I'm not ready to say just yet if I am willing to commit to a Happiness Project (okay, who am I kidding? I am a sucker for this stuff), but I am certainly willing to celebrate the little things that bring joy into my life.
So. Something that makes me happy? Leftovers--really really yummy leftovers--for lunch at work.
It's crazy and more than a little stressful most mornings at my job. The days that I have a good lunch of leftovers waiting in the staff room fridge are days when there's just a little bit of extra sparkle in the air. I eagerly anticipate lunch; it's a pleasurable time, in which I get to savor some yummy goodness and also be reminded of the original dinner, which is usually an event enjoyed with Himself.
Last night we had friends over and Himself fixed a delicious pesto pasta with shrimp. There was just enough left of it for me to take to work today, and anticipate, and finally snarf down at lunch, and enjoy every little morsel of it. That makes me happy!
It also...almost...makes me want to cook all the time so I always have yummy leftovers for lunch!
Which leads to the ultimate thought on Thursday: is the pleasure in savoring something so slight and minimal decreased upon repetition of it?
So. Something that makes me happy? Leftovers--really really yummy leftovers--for lunch at work.
It's crazy and more than a little stressful most mornings at my job. The days that I have a good lunch of leftovers waiting in the staff room fridge are days when there's just a little bit of extra sparkle in the air. I eagerly anticipate lunch; it's a pleasurable time, in which I get to savor some yummy goodness and also be reminded of the original dinner, which is usually an event enjoyed with Himself.
Last night we had friends over and Himself fixed a delicious pesto pasta with shrimp. There was just enough left of it for me to take to work today, and anticipate, and finally snarf down at lunch, and enjoy every little morsel of it. That makes me happy!
It also...almost...makes me want to cook all the time so I always have yummy leftovers for lunch!
Which leads to the ultimate thought on Thursday: is the pleasure in savoring something so slight and minimal decreased upon repetition of it?
Work on Wednesday: One Day Late Due to Earthquake Action
Okay, now is as good a time as any to use the "earthquake excuse." I'm sorry I didn't post yesterday; I was too busy surviving an earthquake!
A few things to note here:
1. We're, like, a bunch of years overdue for the next Big One. We're pretty much on top of the San Andreas Fault, which erupts every so often in geological history. It hasn't erupted in a while. On top of that, there are oodles of other quite active faults in SoCal as well.
2. I work for a city that takes disaster preparedness VERY seriously. I have an emergency worker ID, a number to call when Armgaeddon happens, and a lot of expectations about what will be required. Not only that, but about twice a month all city staff are reminded of what to do in an earthquake: Drop, Cover, and Hold On.
3. I laughingly tell my Director that my codename is "Jigsaw" because I expect myself to go to pieces when catastrophe strikes.
Well, each time in the past, I have not been at work when the earthquakes hit. I've been at home, and each time, I have frozen in terror and didn't do the Drop Cover Hold On bit. Epic fail.
And then...yesterday it all changed.
Thank god it was not bigger, or closer, than it was. It could have been a very bad scenario: later afternoon; dozens of children still in the building for the Kids's Program; the middle of summer and therefore brutally hot and sunny. I was talking with one of my bosses in the doorway of her office when we felt the first tremble. I paused to see if that was it.
It wasn't.
It was loud. The next tremble hit, and I dove under my boss's desk. I felt like a fool, staring at my boss's feet (she had not yet taken cover) and I actually apologized. Then the next rumble, worse than the first two, hit and then my boss was right there beside me, taking cover under her desk.
Thankfully, her desk is big.
As the rumbling and trembling was still happening, I turned to her and said, "When this is over, we'll need to check on the patrons." I said it almost conversationally.
It took a while for the trembling to end. It tapered off, until it was just giving these occasional, convulsive shudders, in a twisted parody of an extremely prolonged orgasm. When the floor was finally done twitching, we emerged and joined the sea of city employees surging out of the workroom and into the Library proper. Our g
oal was clear and didn't need to be spoken: check on the patrons. See if they are okay.
Thankfully, everyone was.
I learned a few things during this event: 1. That I chose to die with my boss (that actually went through my head as I dove under her desk "I'd rather die in here with ---- than over there, alone, under a workbench). Didn't matter that I didn't die. I could have. And I thought I might. 2. I didn't actually go to pieces. In fact, I kept my head enough to Drop Cover and Hold On (I suspect I was worried that if I didn't, I would have points deducted on my annual evaluation). Ad 3. My library rocks.
Quite literally, actually!
A few things to note here:
1. We're, like, a bunch of years overdue for the next Big One. We're pretty much on top of the San Andreas Fault, which erupts every so often in geological history. It hasn't erupted in a while. On top of that, there are oodles of other quite active faults in SoCal as well.
2. I work for a city that takes disaster preparedness VERY seriously. I have an emergency worker ID, a number to call when Armgaeddon happens, and a lot of expectations about what will be required. Not only that, but about twice a month all city staff are reminded of what to do in an earthquake: Drop, Cover, and Hold On.
3. I laughingly tell my Director that my codename is "Jigsaw" because I expect myself to go to pieces when catastrophe strikes.
Well, each time in the past, I have not been at work when the earthquakes hit. I've been at home, and each time, I have frozen in terror and didn't do the Drop Cover Hold On bit. Epic fail.
And then...yesterday it all changed.
Thank god it was not bigger, or closer, than it was. It could have been a very bad scenario: later afternoon; dozens of children still in the building for the Kids's Program; the middle of summer and therefore brutally hot and sunny. I was talking with one of my bosses in the doorway of her office when we felt the first tremble. I paused to see if that was it.
It wasn't.
It was loud. The next tremble hit, and I dove under my boss's desk. I felt like a fool, staring at my boss's feet (she had not yet taken cover) and I actually apologized. Then the next rumble, worse than the first two, hit and then my boss was right there beside me, taking cover under her desk.
Thankfully, her desk is big.
As the rumbling and trembling was still happening, I turned to her and said, "When this is over, we'll need to check on the patrons." I said it almost conversationally.
It took a while for the trembling to end. It tapered off, until it was just giving these occasional, convulsive shudders, in a twisted parody of an extremely prolonged orgasm. When the floor was finally done twitching, we emerged and joined the sea of city employees surging out of the workroom and into the Library proper. Our g
oal was clear and didn't need to be spoken: check on the patrons. See if they are okay.
Thankfully, everyone was.
I learned a few things during this event: 1. That I chose to die with my boss (that actually went through my head as I dove under her desk "I'd rather die in here with ---- than over there, alone, under a workbench). Didn't matter that I didn't die. I could have. And I thought I might. 2. I didn't actually go to pieces. In fact, I kept my head enough to Drop Cover and Hold On (I suspect I was worried that if I didn't, I would have points deducted on my annual evaluation). Ad 3. My library rocks.
Quite literally, actually!
Monday, July 5, 2010
Manic Monday in Marriage
Today has been an interesting day in the marriage of Sassy and Himself.
And the day's barely half over.
It started innocuously enough. We both had a day off. I slept in. He went out for a massage. I woke up. Eventually he came home.
Maybe that's where we went wrong: me waking up and him coming home.
Because when that happened, the shit hit the fan.
What we argued about is certainly not relevant here, and possibly not relevant within the context of the our marriage. To be terribly reductive, we'll just say that it came down to chore division. For now, we'll assume that there are not underlying issues. What is relevant is how we handled the quickly-escalating situation.
It had the potential to be not pretty. In fact, it was fairly unpretty. It seems unkind and petty to say "he started it," and not even that is particularly relevant. What IS relevant is this: I think we both did something right in how we handled the situation. I didn't rise to the bait, and ultimately, he didn't pursue it.
What did happen was this: he went off to the spare bedroom, and I began to clean. The entire time I was cleaning, I was thinking angry, frustrated thoughts. I was hurt, I was boiling mad, and at least in my head, I was on a warpath.
And then he came out of the guest room. I threw him one dark, deeply foul look before continuing on with my current task of vaccuuming. After a moment, he said, "I'm sorry I hurt your feelings."
You know when in a disagreement, someone offers an olive branch, at least ostensibly? And sometimes you take the olive branch, and you begin to communicate and hopefully make up and forgive each other, but it degenerates into a continuation of the anger and miscommunication of before?
That could have happened.
But it didn't.
I looked up at him with tears brimming in my eyes, and I said, "I can't talk about this right now. Because I want what is best for us and our marriage, and talking right now won't be helpful."
He went away again. I continued cleaning. He took a nap, I filed some things...do you see where this is going? I took the time to cool off; I deliberately avoided a situation of saying angry things; he respected that, he took the time to cool off.
After about ninety minutes, I went into the guest room and laid down on the bed with him. I threw my arms around him. He woke up. We cuddled. We looked into each others' eyes, and we soothed each others' hurt feelings. We still haven't discussed the issues; we will when the time is right.
The main thing is this: in marriage, in ANY romantic and committed relationship...bite your tongue. Give your anger time to cool off. With time comes perspective, and with perspective comes the awareness that really, what does it matter, in the great scheme of things? It doesn't matter who's right and who's wrong, at least not at this point. It matters how you can fix things together, and avoid them getting broken in the first place.
Sassy and Himself earned major marriage points today, I think.
And the day's barely half over.
It started innocuously enough. We both had a day off. I slept in. He went out for a massage. I woke up. Eventually he came home.
Maybe that's where we went wrong: me waking up and him coming home.
Because when that happened, the shit hit the fan.
What we argued about is certainly not relevant here, and possibly not relevant within the context of the our marriage. To be terribly reductive, we'll just say that it came down to chore division. For now, we'll assume that there are not underlying issues. What is relevant is how we handled the quickly-escalating situation.
It had the potential to be not pretty. In fact, it was fairly unpretty. It seems unkind and petty to say "he started it," and not even that is particularly relevant. What IS relevant is this: I think we both did something right in how we handled the situation. I didn't rise to the bait, and ultimately, he didn't pursue it.
What did happen was this: he went off to the spare bedroom, and I began to clean. The entire time I was cleaning, I was thinking angry, frustrated thoughts. I was hurt, I was boiling mad, and at least in my head, I was on a warpath.
And then he came out of the guest room. I threw him one dark, deeply foul look before continuing on with my current task of vaccuuming. After a moment, he said, "I'm sorry I hurt your feelings."
You know when in a disagreement, someone offers an olive branch, at least ostensibly? And sometimes you take the olive branch, and you begin to communicate and hopefully make up and forgive each other, but it degenerates into a continuation of the anger and miscommunication of before?
That could have happened.
But it didn't.
I looked up at him with tears brimming in my eyes, and I said, "I can't talk about this right now. Because I want what is best for us and our marriage, and talking right now won't be helpful."
He went away again. I continued cleaning. He took a nap, I filed some things...do you see where this is going? I took the time to cool off; I deliberately avoided a situation of saying angry things; he respected that, he took the time to cool off.
After about ninety minutes, I went into the guest room and laid down on the bed with him. I threw my arms around him. He woke up. We cuddled. We looked into each others' eyes, and we soothed each others' hurt feelings. We still haven't discussed the issues; we will when the time is right.
The main thing is this: in marriage, in ANY romantic and committed relationship...bite your tongue. Give your anger time to cool off. With time comes perspective, and with perspective comes the awareness that really, what does it matter, in the great scheme of things? It doesn't matter who's right and who's wrong, at least not at this point. It matters how you can fix things together, and avoid them getting broken in the first place.
Sassy and Himself earned major marriage points today, I think.
Sunday, July 4, 2010
What I'm Not Doing this Independence Day
Well, Himself and I are well into Month 2 of Married Life. Month 1 consisted of a little bit of homemaking, a lot more alcoholic consumption, a beach trip, a trip up the mountain, and one film festival, also known as a Test of Our Marriage. When Himself is dealing with that sometimes unpleasant aspect of his job, I find myself dealing with that sometimes unpleasant aspect of my husband.
He and I are thinking maybe I need to go out of town for the next Film Festival.
And now it's Month 2, and so far, it has not folded very auspiciously. I've been ridonkulously exhausted, and therefore have neglected housework and my person is equal measures. Yesterday I woke up with a wee bit of a scratchy throat, and I immediately seized upon the possibility of the Death Headcold of Doom as a potential source of my exhaustion. So, instead of making new traditions on our first Married Holiday, Himself is at the water park with our friend Brain, and I am at home, dallying about online and trying to rest and simultaneously restore our home--and therefore my life--into some semblance of order.
Who knows? Maybe that is the new tradition.
Later on, after the sun sets, we will make our way to one of the rooftops of a two-story building, and from that ideal perch, we will watch the fireworks, well-removed from the crowds of folks doing the same. Hopefully I'll get some pictures, and that will at least be photographic evidence that we made an attempt at Married Holiday the First.
Happy Fourth! Hope you're having fun on this summer day of traditions old and new.
He and I are thinking maybe I need to go out of town for the next Film Festival.
And now it's Month 2, and so far, it has not folded very auspiciously. I've been ridonkulously exhausted, and therefore have neglected housework and my person is equal measures. Yesterday I woke up with a wee bit of a scratchy throat, and I immediately seized upon the possibility of the Death Headcold of Doom as a potential source of my exhaustion. So, instead of making new traditions on our first Married Holiday, Himself is at the water park with our friend Brain, and I am at home, dallying about online and trying to rest and simultaneously restore our home--and therefore my life--into some semblance of order.
Who knows? Maybe that is the new tradition.
Later on, after the sun sets, we will make our way to one of the rooftops of a two-story building, and from that ideal perch, we will watch the fireworks, well-removed from the crowds of folks doing the same. Hopefully I'll get some pictures, and that will at least be photographic evidence that we made an attempt at Married Holiday the First.
Happy Fourth! Hope you're having fun on this summer day of traditions old and new.
Friday, July 2, 2010
Top 5 Friday: Etsy Lust
Five Things I Covet on Etsy Right now:
3 Bare Chipboard Rectangle Frames, sold by StudioCeeCee
I love journaling! It's my favorite part of scrapbooking, the whole "writing about the experience." The only think I love more is finding fancy and creative ways to journal. And what's better than decorate-and-embellish-yourself journaling frames?
Okay, this was supposed to be just a post about what I want from Etsy, but it might become a post about what I bought from Etsy...
Floral Kitchen Tea Tin, sold by Kitchenlily
This is a bit of a nonsequetur...When I was growing up back in Florida, my mom had this cookie jar...it was absolutely hideous. I think it was ceramic (I suspect she or my grandmother actually may have made it in a ceramics class) and the majority of it was this speckled taupe pseudo-stone-looking color. It had a brown lid, and an interesting little scene painted on the front of it. It looked like a farm in the middle of winter, with some bare trees in the background, and some men leading some horses and a bobsled, maybe, out of a barn. Have I mentioned how hideous it was?
God, I miss that cookie jar. Mum kept oreos in there, and an occasional chocolate chip cookie. I always loved looking at that jar, because it reminded me of what I believed farm life must have been like a bunch of years ago, in a place where there actually were seasons.
I was as weird as a child as I am as an adult. I don't know what happened to that hideous jar, but lord, I want it. I want the feelings and imaginings it evoked in my mind.
I think I want the oreos, too.
Rainbow Prism Suncatcher, Sold by Razzle Bedazzle
Okay, so I don't actually want this...but I want to MAKE it. And I think I can--how cool is that???
Stack of old books hand painted necklace, sold by HeatherKent.
Okay, I can't make this one; I concede defeat. Which makes me lust for it all the more!
Scrabble tile pendant, batman symbol, sold by Thetrendyturtle.
It's official. WANT. Where's my wallet?
Aurgh. This is NOT a Top 5 Friday I will be repeating! Excuse me while I purchase stock in Etsy.
3 Bare Chipboard Rectangle Frames, sold by StudioCeeCee
I love journaling! It's my favorite part of scrapbooking, the whole "writing about the experience." The only think I love more is finding fancy and creative ways to journal. And what's better than decorate-and-embellish-yourself journaling frames?
Okay, this was supposed to be just a post about what I want from Etsy, but it might become a post about what I bought from Etsy...
Floral Kitchen Tea Tin, sold by Kitchenlily
This is a bit of a nonsequetur...When I was growing up back in Florida, my mom had this cookie jar...it was absolutely hideous. I think it was ceramic (I suspect she or my grandmother actually may have made it in a ceramics class) and the majority of it was this speckled taupe pseudo-stone-looking color. It had a brown lid, and an interesting little scene painted on the front of it. It looked like a farm in the middle of winter, with some bare trees in the background, and some men leading some horses and a bobsled, maybe, out of a barn. Have I mentioned how hideous it was?
God, I miss that cookie jar. Mum kept oreos in there, and an occasional chocolate chip cookie. I always loved looking at that jar, because it reminded me of what I believed farm life must have been like a bunch of years ago, in a place where there actually were seasons.
I was as weird as a child as I am as an adult. I don't know what happened to that hideous jar, but lord, I want it. I want the feelings and imaginings it evoked in my mind.
I think I want the oreos, too.
Rainbow Prism Suncatcher, Sold by Razzle Bedazzle
Okay, so I don't actually want this...but I want to MAKE it. And I think I can--how cool is that???
Stack of old books hand painted necklace, sold by HeatherKent.
Okay, I can't make this one; I concede defeat. Which makes me lust for it all the more!
Scrabble tile pendant, batman symbol, sold by Thetrendyturtle.
It's official. WANT. Where's my wallet?
Aurgh. This is NOT a Top 5 Friday I will be repeating! Excuse me while I purchase stock in Etsy.
Tuesday, June 29, 2010
Definitely More Poo than Wife
Today is definitely one of those days where I'm more poo than wife.
I have zero energy. Actually, more like negative amounts of energy. Nothing; all of my reserves are tapped. I'm exhausted, and all I want to do is sleep. When I get like this, everything goes out the window--chores, creativity, exercising, socializing. What energy I have is concentrated on: being up on time, bathing, getting to work, doing a good job, being nice to Himself, scooping kitty litter. Really. That's all I'm good for right now.
And this depresses me.
It's just that this nasty, insidious thought lurks at the back of my head: what's the point?
Why bother to exercise every day? You have to keep doing it, you don't really enjoy it. Why bother to clean the house? It just gets dirty again and you're usually the one who has to clean it and that takes away from the time you could be spending doing crafting or writing. But what's the point in that, either? Nothing you make is original. And what's the point in getting up, going to work, running errands? There's always more work, more errands, always in this infernal heat and sunshine.
No one likes whining in the blogosphere. It's so...well, bourgeois. This is all I have to fuss about, the dissipated ennui that comes along with a solid middle class existence where the worst problems I encounter are not forging for nuts and berries and game, or avoiding marauding bands of rapists and pillagers, or worrying about religious persecution, but rather, high cholesterol, budget cuts, the desert weather, and my painful cracked toenail. No, no one likes whining. And I try not to do a whole bunch of it, especially here. But there's no point in being anything other than authentic, and right now, I feel authentically crappy.
But at least I'm present.
And tomorrow's another day.
I have zero energy. Actually, more like negative amounts of energy. Nothing; all of my reserves are tapped. I'm exhausted, and all I want to do is sleep. When I get like this, everything goes out the window--chores, creativity, exercising, socializing. What energy I have is concentrated on: being up on time, bathing, getting to work, doing a good job, being nice to Himself, scooping kitty litter. Really. That's all I'm good for right now.
And this depresses me.
It's just that this nasty, insidious thought lurks at the back of my head: what's the point?
Why bother to exercise every day? You have to keep doing it, you don't really enjoy it. Why bother to clean the house? It just gets dirty again and you're usually the one who has to clean it and that takes away from the time you could be spending doing crafting or writing. But what's the point in that, either? Nothing you make is original. And what's the point in getting up, going to work, running errands? There's always more work, more errands, always in this infernal heat and sunshine.
No one likes whining in the blogosphere. It's so...well, bourgeois. This is all I have to fuss about, the dissipated ennui that comes along with a solid middle class existence where the worst problems I encounter are not forging for nuts and berries and game, or avoiding marauding bands of rapists and pillagers, or worrying about religious persecution, but rather, high cholesterol, budget cuts, the desert weather, and my painful cracked toenail. No, no one likes whining. And I try not to do a whole bunch of it, especially here. But there's no point in being anything other than authentic, and right now, I feel authentically crappy.
But at least I'm present.
And tomorrow's another day.
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