sue is a site

2003-06-09T16:42:00.000-07:00

www.foundmagazine.com

2003-05-06T17:48:00.000-07:00

To Do List.
Develop Film
Sweep Kitchen
Empty Vacuum Cleaner Bag
Organize Piles of Knitting/Spinning Crap

2003-04-28T15:03:00.000-07:00

I got a visit from Bernice today. She's my own personal, Jehovah's Witness. We are the only house on the block that she visits. I'm sure all my neighbors have slammed their doors in her face. We would usually do the same, but Bernice is so sweet and gentle, we couldn't bring ourselves to shoo her away. She's a tiny and black with straightened black hair going gray and a tiny gray moustache and a pacemaker. She wears burgundy lipstick. She's never pushy, she just chats with me about my yard, and gives me two issues of The Watchtower, which almost always go directly to the recycling bin, which I think she knows. She once thanked me for being kind to her, she said she gets many bad reactions from people, but this is what her god asks of her and she does it, even though I think it's a bit scary and uncomfortable for her.
Recently she had some back problems, she didn't stop by for about 3 months this winter, and I was so happy to see her again, though I must admit, I'd forgotten about her while she was gone. Her back is much better now, though her neck was bothering her today and she was distressed she couldn't get ahold of her doctor regarding some test results.
I forgot to tell her we're going to be moving in a few months. I hope I get the chance to say goodbye so she doesn't feel abandoned.

2003-04-24T08:03:00.000-07:00

House shopping begins. Ben got a pre-approval for a home loan. We should be in our own house by September or October

2003-04-14T15:27:00.000-07:00

I had to pay my taxes today. Ouch. I'm underemployed and had to come up with $500. Sigh.

2003-04-03T20:01:00.000-08:00

I got rear-ended by a Lexus on 39th & Powell a few days ago. I let the guy go. He was very nice, and my car is crappy and didn't sustain any damage anyway. But I felt very shaken up for a couple hours and had a headache for the rest of the day. I'm not sure I made a smart decision by not reporting the accident, I did get his license plate number. I hate situations like that, it's such a pain, I just wanted to get my groceries home. Still, I feel like it's not taking very good care of myself to risk having an injury I wouldn't be able to document properly. Bah.

2003-04-01T13:27:00.000-08:00

Yeh! Blogger got their act together! My template is now updated!

2003-03-25T08:20:00.000-08:00

Double the disappointment!

Do you find yourself checking this blog on a regular basis, only to discover that I still have not made a new post? Good news! Now you can experience twice the frustration! I have started another blog! If you want to learn more about my knitting and spinning activities, try checking it out, but I'm not making any promises!

2003-03-24T18:09:00.000-08:00

I would like to express my frustration that Blogger really sucks lately. I have made some changes to my template; removed some items from my page and added others, however, my template changes refuse to appear. I also have not been able to check my BSTATS (to see whose been visiting) in several weeks. What's more they have never taken the five bucks a month from my checking account to pay for my BLOG*SPOT PLUS site and I live in fear that they will take it all at once. I have emailed BLOGGER CONTROL but I haven't got a response yet. Let hope those boys get their shit together pretty soon.

2003-03-24T17:53:00.000-08:00

Check out my new KNITTING GALLERY.

2003-03-24T08:40:00.000-08:00

See updated To Do List.

2003-03-03T20:08:00.000-08:00

This is an exercise I did in my writing group last Wednesday. It's very raw and silly, but I sort of enjoy it. We all chose a line from a poem and kept writing from that line, everytime we got stuck, we'd write the line over again.
I chose a line from a Shel Silverstein poem. I've never washed my shadow out in all the time I've had it.

I've never washed my shadow out in all the time I've had it. Perhaps this just illustrates my general lack of hygiene, cleanliness, personal empowerment. But if I washed it. it might shrink like wool in hot water, making a midget of my silouhette, or it could get stretched out like a cotton sweater and look foolish for such a short woman.
I've never washed my shadow out in all the time I've had it. There's no tag with washing instructions, no shadow washing product pitched to me on television, no dry cleaner who specializes. Surely I should not use bleach -- a washed out shadow being an entirely useless thing. Would I use shampoo? Woolite? Dishsoap, glycerin soap? Palmolive? Palmolive works on everything, right?
Will my shadow get darker with age and would that be a sign of wisdom or neglect?
I've never washed my shadow out in all the time I've had it. And maybe I never will. There should be one thing in life that you needn't maintain, but can absolutely take for granted. My shadow will be there as long as he light is not directly above me.
I can count three distinct, yet varying shades of my shadow as my hand moves across this very page and it make me think of all the attention I paid my shadow when I was little. Almost as much attention as was paid to my reflection. I would walk along the side walk after school as the autumn sun set too early and marvel at the length of it. Or in the early afternoon on the playground when it was so much shorter than me and somehow it felt like my shadow would tell me my future.

2003-03-01T15:25:00.000-08:00

Great first sentence:

The organized portion of my religious life ended in the second grade, because my mother (bless her) is a lazy woman.

Now I just have to write the rest of it.

2003-02-27T09:04:00.000-08:00

A life well lived.

If you have some time, go here, and listen to episode 184, "Neighbors," on Real Audio.

2003-02-24T09:46:00.000-08:00

To Do List

Call for Heating Oil Delivery
Copies of Resume on good paper
Clean Bathroom
Get sponges, cinnamin
~~Call Rachel!~~
Work on blue sweater (already)
Send in Multnomah & Clack applications
Contact Portland Housing Center for 1st time home buyer info
~~Fix Chrysta's sweater~~

2003-02-20T10:00:00.000-08:00

"If you're family wanted you to write nice things about them, they should have behaved better."

-Anne Lamott

2003-02-12T16:46:00.000-08:00

Attention Portland Knitters, Spinners & Weavers! There is a fabulous new shop you must check out. It is called Fiber Arts Northwest. The shop is beautiful. It is owned by Valerie DeGroot. She has several of everything to chose from. Her prices seem to be right in line with the other shops in town. I bought my spinning wheel from her. She'll be offering lots of classes. I can't say enough great stuff about this place.
Here's the info:
Fiber Arts Northwest
Riverplace Esplanade, above the Marina
0315 SW Montgomery St #310
Portland, OR 97201
phone: 503-224-3536
www.fiberartsnorthwest.com
She's open til 6 on weeknights, until 7 on Saturdays, I think.

Jamie: I told her about you, her website needs help. I gave her the email address for theredsweater.

2003-02-11T17:50:00.000-08:00

Yesterday I made a fake cigarette out of a piece of note paper. I watched The Royal Tenenbaums and pretended to smoke. Yikes. Halfway through I realized all I was after was the deep breathing.

My spinning wheel came last week. I will post pictures as soon as I can.

2003-02-01T17:16:00.000-08:00

2003 is the year of the Black Sheep. Which I think we can safely assume means it's going to be a great year for Knitters and Spinners. Accordingly, I have ordered a spinning wheel. It will arrive this week.

2003-01-28T11:42:00.000-08:00

a message from the

Inner Peace Department

I have placed a little green rock on top of my computer monitor at work. It is an excellent way of resetting my intentions. Now, whenever I start to freak out about how much my job sucks, I can stare at my rock, and everything falls back into perspective. My boss is a lonely, greedy old man. I just do what I can and collect a paycheck. My life is outside this place.

2003-01-27T18:13:00.000-08:00

I am suffering from the January doldrums. It is official. I am a wuss. Rain and gray skies are finally getting to me. I spent my first two winters in Oregon shooting my mouth off about my imperviousness to rain and gray skies. Anything is better than sub-zero temperatures and snow drifts up to your ass, I reasoned. Sadly, I am now completely acclimated. Gray skies are bringing me down, I start whining if it drops below forty degrees. The fact that Ben and I are still on opposite schedules and I hate my job isn't helping my decidedly un-sunny disposition. However, it does help a little to hear of the weather they're having back home. Hee hee. I feel a bit better now.

2003-01-16T11:56:00.000-08:00

Last night I dreamt that I was boutique shopping with Iss and I wandered outside and down a gravel road to a hillside overlooking a field where I hoped there might be some sheep. On the way, I saw people were sitting and chatting with friends and family outside their houses. A few very friendly dogs came out to greet me, one of them a Border Collie, though he was too big and also, his coat was blue. He brought me a frisbee, which I threw for him, but I didn't do a very good job of it and he wandered away. Eventually Iss came to find me and as we walked back they way we came we had to pass through a little storage shed. The shed was packed with junk and we couldn't find out way out, we kept trying to crawl over things and I was afraid we would damage something, so we got in the back of an SUV that was parked inside and soon some people got into the SUV (I think the driver was a real estate agent) and we asked them to drop us off outside. The driver backed out of the shed and kept going in reverse (to quickly) back up the dirt road where we were before. We realized as we got out of the SUV that the driver had struck the Border Collie. We all gathered around the body of the big, blue dog.

2003-01-07T19:13:00.000-08:00

Did I forget to mention that for a while, my site was plagued with visitors who found me by doing a google search for "woman + peeing + outside" and "peeing outside"?
What kind of sick shit is that?
There are a number of legitmate sites (and by "legitimate" I guess I mean sites that the sick fucks who did the search in the first place would not be interested in) that come up on such a search. (I looked into this, Blogger's "bstats" is a beautiful thing.) One can find tips for potty training a new puppy, or litter box training a kitten. But I find it hard to believe that any thinking person would believe that typing "peeing outside" in a search engine would be the most efficient route to finding that information. Thus the problem, and the fascination, with search engines. You can find the American Kennel Club website or "Jilian's Fart Diary" with the same phrase (I will spare you the hotlink to Jilian's site). And of course, you can find lots of hard core porn.
I spent a good deal of time thinking about the people who found me this way. Did they immediately leave when they realized my site does not feature any crotch shots? Are these men? Perhaps it is prejudicial of me, but I have a hard time imagining woman who suffer from this fetish. Then I thought, maybe I'm the prude. Maybe urine is and should be turn on. That lasted for about twelve seconds. Then I started to feel pity. For the obvious reasons. I guy in stained boxer shorts hanging out in his mom's basement, looking for love or it's substitute. Or a business man with a dirty little secret. And I got a little freaked out that my little freedom-of-self-expression-experiment might bring me into contact (albeit digital contact) with such people. But it is all part of living in this world, and in the end, I wouldn't choose to stay sheltered, even when I consider the searches I'll pop up on after this post.

search: prudes + urine + love
search: kittens + farts
search: hard core porn + dirty boxer shorts
search: peeing + puppies + crotch shots

2003-01-06T18:32:00.000-08:00

I am sitting at my desk tonight sipping a rootbeer float and reflecting on bitchin' start I've got on my new year's resolutions.
I jump on my trampoline every day. I cleaned out my filing cabinet and cleared the dust bunnies from under the bed. I use the food processor Ben got me for Christmas to fullest advantage (pizza crusts, egg rolls, crackers, macadamia butter cookies...). I practice meditation from a book Iss got for me. All my Christmas decorations are put away.
However, there are some areas that could use some improvement. Blogging, for instance. It may be bumpy for a while longer, my computer needs a major overhaul. I shall try to be less diligent in my duties at work, and therefore more diligent in my blogging. Stick with me, I'll make it worth your while eventually.

2002-12-31T13:01:00.000-08:00

I am currently without a computer at home, it is being upgraded. Therefore, blog entries will be fewer and farther between. I will resume serious blogging as soon as possible, in the mean time...

Happy New Year.

2002-12-27T19:52:00.000-08:00

Tomorrow we will be back in Portland, which is good, since we have managed to piss off nearly every relative who was looking forward to our visit. Sigh.

2002-12-24T11:12:00.000-08:00

I am in Minnesota for Christmas.

This morning my mother showed me all the pictures she keeps of me in her bible. I almost cried.

2002-12-17T12:47:00.000-08:00

Coming Soon: Ben and Sue's Fantasy Barbeque Guest List. This will be an interactive list, you will be able to suggest guests and comment on the existing list.

2002-12-10T21:11:00.000-08:00

When I was seventeen I wrote an essay about the three people, living or dead, I would most like to interview. The essay was part of my application to New York University. They accepted me, but I didn't go, for reasons I don't need to get into here.
The three people I chose to interview were John Irving, Adolf Hitler and Leonardo Di Vinci.
What a crock! The only one I really wanted to talk to was John Irving, and I'd already written him a letter and got a reply. The other two were calculated choices; I thought they'd be impressive to the admissions board. To my shame, it didn't even occur to me to interview a woman. Hitler?! My god! I'd be terrified! I'd probably get so scared I'd puke on the son of a bitch.
If I had to do it over again, Kurt Vonnegut would be at the top of my list. I've just re-read a small book of his called "God Bless you, Dr Kevorkian." It is based on a series of radio stories he did for the National Public Radio affliate in Manhattan, WNYC. In it, Vonnegut undergoes a series of near-death experiences so he can interview dead people inside the pearly gates. His voyages take place in the lethal injection facility in Huntsville, Texas and are overseen by, of course, Jack Kevorkian.
One of the people Vonnegut interviews is Adolf Hitler. Kurt Vonnegut's essay is far more interesting and inciteful than the one I wrote when I was seventeen. And Kurt manages not to vomit on him, however much Adolf deserves it. In approximately 183 words, Mr. Vonnegut makes the reader (or originally, the listener) consider the nature of remorse, Heaven's admission policy (everyone gets in), American ignorance of history and the human tendency to draw conclusions about that history based on self-interest.
My husband introduced me to a concept he calls "the Barbeque." It is our fantasy cook-out. A place on the guest list is indicative of our approval, admiration and amusment, as in: "Kurt Vonnegut is invited to the Barbeque."

2002-12-09T21:07:00.000-08:00

Let's all wish a belated Happy Birthday to our favorite DixieCrat Strom Thurmond, who just turned 100 years old. And let us pray for Trent Lott, who seems to be suffering from foot-in-mouth disease.

2002-12-06T22:16:00.000-08:00

Lana describing silly, skinny women she works with:

"They are the kind of people who order a bowl of soup then sit and stir it for five minutes..."

2002-12-06T12:58:00.000-08:00

Enrichments
Yoga
Blogging/Writing
Trampolining
Making Love
Reading
Knitting
Spinning
Cooking

2002-12-04T17:50:00.000-08:00

Okay, I'm back.

I had a nasty cold that began Monday the 27th and is still hanging on by a thread (I'm still coughing). As a result, I have not had the desire to sit in front of a computer and give this blog some love. I apologize to those of you who enjoy this blog and use it to check on me.

I was ill the entire time Elizabeth (Iss) was visting, but we had an enjoyable time anyway. Thanksgiving dinner turned out great, though I was so exhausted by the end of it that tears were streaming down my face as I carved the turkey.

I hate exhaustion more than anything.

2002-12-02T15:14:00.000-08:00

There's nothing like a bad cough to give you a sense of your own mortality.

2002-11-26T16:18:00.000-08:00

A mucus coated horny toad has taken up residence in the back of my throat, and he's causing headaches and body aches, too. I had to take the day off from work, and I was scheduled off for the remainder of the week for Thanksgiving festivities. Iss arrives tomorrow morning. I am not yet as prepared as I'd like to be, but Iss is such a great guest, I know she won't care if the house is a bit messy and she has to help me get groceries and make pies. I just hope I feel a whole lot better tomorrow.

2002-11-24T20:42:00.000-08:00

Ben's sister, Iss, is coming to Portland for Thanksgiving (Hooray!). What with those preparations, and my new knitting streak, and jumping on my trampoline, and spending all available minutes with Ben this weekend, this blog is being neglected.

2002-11-22T21:40:00.000-08:00

The following is an exact reproduction of an email my 18-year-old sister sent me yesterday. It nearly made me weep; for how smart, sensitive and talented she is, and how fucking clueless my parents remain.

Mom did this

went to my play

made the STAGEMANGER and the HOUSEMANAGER come into the dressing room RIGHT AWAY after the show and come get me.

THRUSTS flowers in my face and says

HERECANWEGONOW?

these girls who heard her started laughing. I was very miserable. I was expecting her to say how good I was or how funny it was, and then we would all go out to dinner for her birthday.

She and Dad went straight home.

I finished getting dressed and took my makeup off

and walked back to my car

alone

in the dark.

When I got home Dad told me she had said "I can see why Rachel thought I wouldn't like it"

Why must it be this way?

At least she came

I would rather she didn't come at all than come and act put out by it.

It WAS a very good play

She should be proud

I am proud of it.

Dad didn't say much

When I encouraged him to talk to me about it he said some good stuff.

I was pleased with his performance.

Mom sucked. She did not perform well.

I think that I had much higher expectations of her.

I need a hug.

plus my flowers sucked. I can tell she just grabbed the first thing she saw.

2002-11-20T19:48:00.000-08:00

I haven't been writing much, but I've been very productive. I've been reading lots of books, and knitting (a mitten a day keeps Christmas panic at bay). And I feel wonderful, thanks to JUMPING UP AND DOWN! If you are even moderately considering getting more exercise, and have $25 to spare, run to Sears and get a little trampoline. Then go home, get someone who loves you (and is good at assembling things) to put it together for you, and put your favorite music on and JUMP!

2002-11-19T18:21:00.000-08:00

Ben and I have started house browsing. This is one I really like.

2002-11-18T18:11:00.000-08:00

To Do List.

Cancel Dental Appointment

Call Water Bureau

Call Met Life

Fine-tune Thanksgiving Menu

Mail Package to In-Laws

Work on Christmas Knitting Projects

Put Together a Sample of Writings for Submissions

2002-11-16T22:16:00.000-08:00

I bought a mini-trampoline today. Say good-bye to the Sue-chub!

2002-11-14T18:47:00.000-08:00

It started in my feet. I got new shoes this weekend, and they aren't broken in yet. Now, when I am standing in my barefeet, it feels like I am not standing on the part of my bones I usually stand on. This morning, the strange feeling of dislocation spread. When I press my teeth together, it doesn't feel like my teeth are meeting each other where they ordinarily meet. When I am holding a pencil, it doesn't feel like the pencil is pressing where it's actually pressing, it feels like it's acutally about an eighth of an inch to the left. It's most bizarre. I did just a bit of yoga last night. Maybe my half-assed yoga only half adjusted my body. I'm off kilter. I did a more complete session of yoga when I got home from work today, the feeling is slowly subsiding, and I hope it never comes back. It's giving me the creeps.

2002-11-14T12:56:00.000-08:00

You remember Fred Rogers from Mister Roger's Neighborhood? You remember those sweaters he wore? His mother knitted all those sweaters for him. That is so cool. Maybe my next project, after Christmas, will be a Mr. Roger's sweater.

2002-11-13T18:30:00.000-08:00

Ben Already Made a Friend at his New Job

I know it seems gross, but I love this picture. Look at that cute little guy! He's just doing his thing, scouting for food, or a mate, down in the sewer. Paradoxically, it made me feel even better about Ben's job. When the position first opened, Ben didn't even want to apply for it. Wastewater? But everyone he works with is so great, and they were so excited about getting him from a seasonal job into a full-time job, he would have felt ungrateful if he hadn't at least tried for it. So, for the first time ever, he went into an interview absolutely calm. He didn't really care if he got it or not, so he was completely at ease, and honest. So, of course, he got the job; documenting the sewer lines of a suburb with a digital camera.

2002-11-12T19:49:00.000-08:00

So, it's happened. Ben and I are on opposite work schedules, for the time being. I am finagling a way to adjust my hours at my job, but for the next week or two, I'm working days and Ben's working evenings. I am lonely already. I rode the bus home and sat on the sofa reading recipe books. I made some quesadillas, including enough for Ben to eat tomorrow. Then I decided that wasn't enough for Ben to eat, so I fried up some tortilla chips.
I want to use the time to my advantage, but of course I am avoiding writing like the plague. My knitting projects are not interesting me. There is, well I don't know what the hell you'd call it, it's not a competition exactly, I'll call it a "web event" (god help me), wherein thousands of poor shlubs write a 50,000 word novel by midnight November 30. The very thought of it makes me sleepy. And ashamed of my own laziness.

2002-11-10T20:00:00.000-08:00

I heard an interview with Penn Gillet, the magician. He said his partner, Teller, defines "art" in this way:

"Whatever it is we do when we're done working."

2002-11-09T19:48:00.000-08:00

Ben and I just got back from the coast. It was stormy. We walked around Ecola State Park a bit and watch the big waves break. It was high tide. We stood on the stairs leading to the beach rather than the beach itself to keep from getting wet. Then we ran down to the sand when the waves rolled out and stacked flat rocks on top of each other until the waves rolled in again and we'd run up the steps and watch the waves knock down the rocks and drag them away. I don't think Minnesota kids ever get over the thrill of seeing the ocean.

2002-11-08T19:06:00.000-08:00

Here is some religious text that I actually find helpful:

"Leave off from wrath, and let go displeasure:
Fret not thyself, else shalt thou be moved to do evil."

Thirty-seventh Psalm

2002-11-07T20:49:00.000-08:00

I am on vacation for the next four days. Why do all my vacations involve job searches?

2002-11-06T06:10:00.000-08:00

Absolute power corrupts absolutely, as everyone knows. So keep a close eye.
Would I want the democrats in total control? I'd probably be excited for a day, or maybe even a week. But I honestly believe that government works better with two sides, with nearly equal power, keeping each other in check. We now have a conservative supreme court, who has shown it's willingness to flout constitutional law in favor of political preference, an impressionable president surrounded by heartless hawks, and republicans in control the house and senate. And you thought the Contract with America was a disaster.

2002-11-06T06:05:00.000-08:00

Well shit. I don't know how this happened, but it looks like the Republicans will soon be in charge of the whole shooting match (and shooting match it will be). This is a pisser folks. I predict that Republicans will become so overzealous that they will make themselves appear montrous in the eyes of the American public. And in a few more years, the voters will bring things back into balance. It will be a tough couple of years, vigilance can be exhausting.

2002-11-05T20:24:00.000-08:00

Attention Americans:

If you didn't vote today, I don't want to hear you bitching tomorrow.

2002-11-04T20:30:00.000-08:00

Message left by my mother on Sunday afternoon:

Susie, this is mom. It's a beautiful Sunday, it's catchup day on all the worldliness that's going on. And Rachel is burping, [sounds of sister yelling in background] and I'm not telling you anything about Rachel, except that she's burping. Bub-bye.

2002-11-03T20:09:00.000-08:00

My librarian dream may become a reality. I am applying for a position as a library aide in Beaverton.

2002-11-02T10:26:00.000-08:00

Ben got a promotion. The City of Gresham has hired him to take pictures of sewers (read: POOP). It is a limited term, union job. He will be a Teamster. We will get benefits. He will make more money. And, last but not least, he will be working the swing shift. Which means, I get to quick my stupid job and find something on the swing shift as well.
I have told people I work with that Ben got a new job working three to midnight. Strangely, no one has caught on that this means I will be quitting. Which is good. But what can they be thinking, "Wow, how great for Sue, now she can be at this stressful, stupid, low-paying job during the day and never get to see her husband in the evening. Ideal! I envy her."

2002-11-01T16:30:00.000-08:00

I have a new favorite catch phrase.

Regime Change Begins at Home. VOTE.

2002-11-01T07:32:00.000-08:00

From the Annals of Corporate Idiocy

I overheard a bagel conversation at Starbucks the other morning. Starbucks only sells cold bagels. One barista excitedly exclaimed, "They're testing toasters in Seattle."

2002-10-31T20:48:00.000-08:00

Only three sets of trick-or-treaters tonight. Lame. On the up side, I have become one of those adults that, as a kid, I considered to be the ideal Halloween host. No weirdness, no asking dumb questions, no trying to get a trick instead of giving treats, no pencils. I just complement the costumes and fork over heaping-handfuls of Snickers, Reeses peanut-butter cups, and M&Ms. I got so overzealous at one point candy started falling on the ground, one treater grew concerned, "Mason, you're squishing a Musketeer bar!"

2002-10-30T20:27:00.000-08:00

(Think of Jerry Seindfeld's voice as you read this. Sorry.)

Why should I pay more for baby spinach? They get to harvest quicker and make three dollars more a pound. What is the deal with that?

2002-10-29T19:51:00.000-08:00

I stepped on a cat today. It was fucking horrible. There is a cat in our office, named P-trap. (What else do you name a Plumber's cat?). P-trap has had a rough couple of weeks. He has a habit of picking fights with other cats and losing. He is recovering from surgery to remove an abcess received during his latest bout. There is a large shaved area on his hind quarters, which clearly is humiliating for him.
I am not a cat person, never had the chance to be due to an allergy. But there have been several cats I have met and admired. P-trap is not one of them. He is the ultimate loner cat. A Human user. He skulks about the office, rarely giving affection, yet expecting constant adoration.
I had just used the bathroom, which happens to be inside the breakroom (don't get me started). I left the bathroom and was reaching for the door knob to exit the breakroom when I felt something underneath my foot that had no business there, and before I could process the thought there was a terrible, feline scream. I screamed back, "JESUS CHRIST, P-TRAP!"
I looked down to see an angry, surprised cat face. I opened the door and the cat rushed away from me into the hall. But, unlike a dog who would either run as far away as possible or rest for a moment and then seek a reconcilation, P-trap sat a few feet away glaring at me and licking his haunches. Several people came out of their offices to laugh at the commotion. P-trap's demeanor was accusatory, as if asking them, "Did you see what she did to me?" The cat and I were in quite a state. We didn't know what to do with each other. Frankly, I am scared of the cat now. I went back my office and was rattled for the next hour, the sound of cat shrieks in my ear and an unpleasant, guilty sensation in my left foot.

2002-10-28T19:29:00.000-08:00

I have been a busy little social bee these past few days. Sunday, I went to a Stitch & Bitch hosted by the fine ladies at The Red Sweater. And tonight I was invited to dinner with a co-worker and his girlfriend. Now I want to crawl into a hole for a few days and adjust to the fact that it's dark at 5:30 in the afternoon. Halloween approaches, I do not even have a pumpkin yet. And this was the year I was going to dress up, even if I all do is pass out candy to teenagers, who seem to be the only people who bother to trick or treat anymore.

2002-10-26T20:35:00.000-07:00

My mother and father-in-law sent us a package. We picked it up from the post office this morning. They sent it to replace a previous package that was stolen off our porch by a degenerate asshole. The package contained a six pack of white Champion socks (for Ben), two pairs of cutsey Target brand socks (for me), a torpedo level (for Ben), "Campbell Kids" hot pads and a Campbell's soup can magnet, a small pumpkin basket with two tealight candles, two halloween goodie bags each containing three snack size snickers bars, two "Endangered Species" chocolate bars, one featuring a salmon and one featuring an elephant, thirty feet of 1/2 inch nylon webbing which my father-in-law recovered from an abandoned work sight (he got about 1000 feet all together, spent about a month untangling it, ran it through the washing machine, and cut it into 300ft lengths, he thought Ben might like some, so he sent a sample; Ben has been using it to lasso me), and a card with a typewriter and a vase of daisies on the front containing my mother-in-law's new school picture (she runs a pre-school program), snapshots of her new Passat, and a check for a hundred dollars.

2002-10-25T11:45:00.000-07:00

Paul Wellstone

Paul Wellstone, the senior senator from Minnesota, has died in a plane crash along with his wife and daughter. This is a sad day.

2002-10-25T06:58:00.000-07:00

I do not have to work until eight o'clock today. I usually start at seven. I do not want to go at all. I want to stay home and write. I think this is a healthy thing to want. I began all these sentences with "I". I guess that is a no, no.

2002-10-24T10:59:00.000-07:00

Summerhill website.

2002-10-22T18:12:00.000-07:00

Would you entrust your children to this man?

I am re-reading a book called Summerhill: a Radical Approach to Child Rearing by A.S. Neill. It is a book detailing the ideas and history of a private school in England, founded in 1921 by psychologist A.S. Neill. The book was written in the late fifties and published in 1960. The school was founded on the principle that children should be loved and approved of. Adults should not try to instill in them a bunch of bullshit, harmful social conventions and repressive attitudes. (Sounds pretty radical so far.) Children at Summerhill were not compelled to attend class. A child was encouraged to play, and lessons would be there when the child decided that lessons were wanted (on the theory that a child learns better when ready to learn). The children (ages 5-17) and the staff made the rules of the school by democratic vote. The vote of a 6-year-old was counted the same as the vote of the Headmaster. This created a safe and free environment for a child to become a full-feeling, full-thinking individual. No shame, no manipulation, no authority for it's own sake. It's an extraordinary book; mind expanding, and very funny. Here is an example of an exam question at Summerhill. (Given not to assess students, just to amuse them really.)

Where are the following: --Madrid, Thursday Island, yesterday, love, democracy, hate, my pocket screwdriver?

I am not a parent, (yet) but just reading this book I have reaffirmed my commitment to the important things: freedom to think and act as I choose, provided I am not harming anyone, rejection of "respectability" for the sake of mantaining the status quo, the importance of a love not based on guilt. It's a book that challenges me to lead my own, quiet revolution for a more sensible humanity.

2002-10-21T18:03:00.000-07:00

So, imagine you are the service manager for a flourishing Plumbing & Heating company. You have given 14 years of service to this company. You are a certified pipe fitter with many years of experience, so many in fact that you are nearly eligible for retirement benefits though your union hall. You are taking a drug called Interferon to boost your immune system to help you battle melonoma. You arrive at work on a Monday like any other. Except today, the president and vice president of the company invite you downstairs for a meeting. You are being laid off. You are the only one being laid off. You're middle management and your salary is standing in the way of profitability. (Did I mention that the president and vice president are father and son?) Poof, you are sixty years old and you are banished to the land of wind and ghosts. You are driven home by the company mechanic because you must immediately relinquish your company vehicle. Gather your things. Ignore the whispers as you leave. Do not show emotion. Do not let the door hit you in the ass on the way out.

This is what happened to one of my bosses today. Dear Steve, I hope you went home, cracked open a beer and made love to your wife. I hope you will quickly rebound from the rude awakening that you, like all of us, are disposable. I hope you are able to make the best of a humilating situation. Collect unemployment, play on your boat. Live, Live, Live.

2002-10-20T16:53:00.000-07:00

This is a postcard my sister-in-law, Elizabeth, sent to me. It gives the measurements for her cat, Lucille. I am making Lucille a sweater with red and white stripes.

2002-10-19T22:16:00.000-07:00

Check out recently added FAQ.

2002-10-18T17:04:00.000-07:00

So it's Friday. I've been riding the bus all week because Ben needs my car to get all the way out to Gresham until he can fix the brakes on his truck. My shoulders and back feel extra twisted and awful. I didn't just sit at a desk that's too tall for me for 40 hours, I also spent at least 5 hours scrunched up in a bus seat. Need Yoga. Need to buy healthy groceries. Need husband to fix his car, so at the very least I can enjoy my lunchtime sanctuary with the Beatles, the New Yorker and knitting. I may even need a drink. Tomorrow I know I will feel wonderful. Tonight, I want to forget everything. Especially that I am fast approaching the point where I will be hired on permanently to a job I do not enjoy, with benefits that don't really seem worth it. Hello oblivion.

2002-10-17T20:01:00.000-07:00

Never mind. I figured it out. No thanks to you.

2002-10-17T11:53:00.000-07:00

Just added a "comment" feature. It's not where I want it yet, if anyone knows how I can move the damn thing to the end of an entry instead of next to the date, just hit the "comment" button and let 'er rip.

2002-10-16T17:42:00.000-07:00

On my way to work one day I arrived at the bustop and realized I had forgotten my glasses. I walked home and called in sick.
Everyone should try this at least once. If you don't wear glasses, use anything you have forgotten as an excuse. "Oh, I wanted to take that banana to work for lunch today, fuck it, may as well call in sick." It's important not to plan this ahead of time. Just the next time you absentmindedly leave your gloves on your kitchen table, go back to your house, fake a migraine (or foodpoisoning) and spend the day on the sofa, or at the library, or the yarn store. Enjoy.

2002-10-15T17:21:00.000-07:00

Last night, while shopping at Safeway, my astute husband exclaimed, "All these toothbrushes look like Nikes." They do. They do.

2002-10-14T20:32:00.000-07:00

There is a plumber who loves me. His name is Bill. He spends his weekends in the woods dressed like Davy Crockett playing with guns. When I got in a fight with an HVAC guy, he brought me a chocolate rose. He always comes up to the office to see me. "What's going on Bill?" I'll say, "I just came up here to flirt with you," he'll say. We talk about baked goods and his kids. His youngest boy is about to turn 21 and be released from juvenile hall, his boy ended up there due to complications and parole violations after grabbing a girl's breast when he was fifteen.
Today, Bill brought me some apple pie. It's a cold cure. It's Everclear, cinnamin, apple schnapps, and god knows what else. It smells and tastes like kiddie cough syrup. It will clear your sinuses and make you dance a jig. He brought me a whole jug of it. It's in an honest to god jug. I've never had anyone give me anything in a jug before. I don't know quite how to repay someone for a jug gift. I think I'll try brownies.

2002-10-13T19:18:00.000-07:00

To Do List

~~Fax Ben's Minnesota Driving record to City of Portland~~

Get Groceries

Fill out applications for Multnomah county jobs

Prune rose bushes

Cut down dead daisies

Pick up rotting apples

Detail Greta the Jetta

2002-10-12T20:16:00.000-07:00

This is what happens when I turn on the computer to Blog. I check my email account, it is usually porn-related junk mail, but sometimes, my friend Tanya or my friend Lana will send me an email, I enjoy hearing from them and I write them back, unless I'm in a hurry. (Recently my friend Tanya wrote me that she thinks my blog is PG-13. She said it in a complementary way, but it still bugged me a little, so allow me to interject this: MOTHERFUCKER. There, now I'm in company with Kurt Vonnegut, some idiots in Iowa once burned a book of his because one of his characters said MOTHERFUCKER. Iowa is full of idiots, I should know, I'm from Minnesota.) After I check my hotmail account, I check the hotmail account I share with my husband. Sometimes there will be an email from my mother-in-law that will tick me off good, subtly hinting, as all her correspondence does, that Ben and I should move our butts back to Minnesota pronto.
Or, there could be a few dozen enormous sound files from my sister, causing a huge red flashing at the top of the screen, telling me I have exceeded the storage limit on my account, and will not be receiving further emails until I do something about it, preferably sending $10 to Microsoft to buy extra storage. I think not.
Then I usually check Tanya's blog, which can take up some serious time, as she is compelling and long-winded. I am usually a bit jealous at the size of her posts. Next I check Jamie's blog. She is a fellow knitter. I then make my way to Blogger.com. After signing in I check the traffic on my Blog. I might check out a Blog of Note, only to upbraid myself for not spending more time improving the layout of my blog, and posting some pictures, already. Finally, I get to my Blog and by this point I am near cross-eyed from staring at the screen for so long, and afraid that anything I post will be derivative of all the things I have just read. It's a risk I have to take.

2002-10-10T20:09:00.000-07:00

Last night I had a dream I was driving across the Fremont bridge and the oil light in my car came on. (In waking life, my car eats oil, and I am not as diligent about checking the oil as I could be, because I'm pissed at the car for eating oil in the first place.) I knew I only had ten seconds to pull over and turn the car off, or my engine would seize. At this point I woke up with an extreme thirst. I got up to get a glass of ice water. It was 12:49. This is the first dream I have been able to recall after waking in several months.

2002-10-08T21:05:00.000-07:00

One afternoon about 18 months ago, Ben made himself a turkey sandwich. We didn't have much food in the house, and he was very hungry. We did have some bread, a slice or two of turkey, and mustard. We buy good mustard from the German deli. We probably have four different kinds of mustard in our fridge right now. Dijon mustard, whole grain mustard, hot mustard, mild mustard in a tube.
Ben was trying to stretch the little bit of turkey, he put about a quarter cup of mustard on this sandwich that day. He sat on the sofa to eat it, and soon I heard him whimpering. I looked over and he was beginning to sweat. Still, he ate the sandwich. I asked him what was wrong, with a full mouth and a runny nose he replied, "I put too much mustard on." And he took another bite. I walked over to him and took the sandwich out of his hand. There was about half of it remaining. I walked into the kitchen, took a butter knife out of the drawer, opened the sandwich and scraped the mustard off and into the sink. I went back to the sofa and handed the sandwich back to him. He gratefully accepted it and ate the rest.
Moral of the story: Sometimes you continue doing something that is not good or enjoyable because you are in no shape to help yourself, it's good to have a friend who can step in to fix your sandwich.

2002-10-07T17:17:00.000-07:00

I work in an office full of Republicans. Which is strange, because I work in a union plumbing and HVAC shop. One plumber once explained to me that once he had money, he wanted to hang on to it, so he became a Republican. He listens to Bill Sizemore on the radio. Bill Sizemore is a anti-tax weiner whose been in a bit of trouble with the law recently for questionable accounting practices and election fraud in connection with his organization, "Oregon Taxpayers United." Bill Sizemore would love nothing more than to destroy the union that made my plumber friend so financially comfortable. So be it.
I like most of the people I work with. They are decent human beings, they seem to be generous and caring and understanding to those around them. The first week I was working there, the head dispatcher, Clyde, said he's "very" republican. I said I'm "very much" a democrat, but that does not mean I base my judgements of other people on whether or not they agree with my politics. Clyde agreed. Since then, we have gotten on like gangbusters.
I pretend that I didn't notice the Clinton jokes forwarded around the office email, and they ignore my vintage donkey campaign button that reads, "VOTE DEMOCRATIC."
I know I'm not going to change any minds by arguing with them, and so do they. Coming toward each other in this spirit of forgiveness for the other's naivety, I find more opportunities to raise gentle points about the value of diverse opinons and social programs then I would if we were constantly sniping about the Bush vs Gore 2000 election.
Because we put politics aside until we all got to know each other, we now have the rapport to discuss our views calmly. The human mind changes slowly or not at all. So be it.

2002-10-06T20:37:00.000-07:00

My husband needs his own blog. Right now, he is standing over my shoulder yapping about what I should write. "Get your own damn Blog," I say, "Then you can write all the limericks you want about Al Franken, you weirdo."

2002-10-05T20:38:00.000-07:00

Ukrainian Eggs make wonderful Christmas gifts for the middle aged women in your life.

2002-10-05T20:35:00.000-07:00

Winner of the "Bumper Sticker Appealing to the Smallest Possible Demographic" Contest

"Old Upholsterers Never Die; They Always Recover."

2002-10-04T17:39:00.000-07:00

"The point of power is in the present moment." --Louise Hay

We are all free to change our minds and lives, this very moment.

2002-10-03T20:01:00.000-07:00

European nerds are cool. -link

2002-10-03T16:14:00.000-07:00

My sister tells me that my mom made a comment to the effect that if Ben and I moved back to Minnesota, she would pay for me to finish school. Screw you, Kathy. If she really cared, she would want to help me finish school no matter where I live. This is classic Kathy Burdick. Emotional extortion. "Come back and pay attention to me and I'll give you money." Anyone wondering why I moved eighteen-hundred miles away?

2002-10-01T17:34:00.000-07:00

Things to blog about when I don't know what to blog about.
blankets
parental extortion
why I don't watch television
grape nuts

2002-09-29T17:25:00.000-07:00

The Knit-Out went okay. I got there early and camped out on the wall by the max line. I was quickly joined by a mother-daughter crochet-knit duo. They were friendly but not too talkative, content to sit and knit. I kept an eye out for Jamie, a Portland knitter I was hoping to meet. I watched the knitters meander into the square. I saw some great sweaters. It was raining off and on. I was working on the sleeve for my blue sweater. A woman in her mid-fifties sat down next to me and struck up a conversation, or rather used me for a sounding board. She has really pretty greenish-yellow eyes, which I liked looking at, or I would have found an excuse to get away from her. I seem to attract a certain type of older woman who thinks it's great that I knit, and proceeds to talk my ear off, not really interested in listening to anything but the sound of her own voice. She was right about one thing though, my sweater was too wide. I knew it was too wide. I just kept hoping against hope. I could cut up the front and make it into a cardigan, getting rid of the extra width that way. "Just rip it out," she said, matter of factly, "That is yarn you could be using." Sigh. I have ripped it out. I am starting over. But it's exciting, I will make a design I like more than where it was heading before.
Finally, I used my bladder as an excuse. My plan was to go the restroom and then hunt down someone who fit Jamie's general description. Short, layered brown hair and glasses. On my way to Nordstom's (adjacent to the square and the closest bathroom) I spotted a group of young women, one of whom matched Jamie's decription, sitting on a bench working on their knitting projects. When I was done peeing, I stepped outside to find it was pouring rain and the girl who may have been Jamie was not on the bench. I checked around the covered areas for her, but to no avail. I chatted with the middle aged lady some more about joining her knitting guild then went home.

2002-09-29T11:34:00.000-07:00

I am off to the Portland Knit Out in Pioneer Courthouse Square. This is very exciting.

2002-09-28T17:40:00.000-07:00

I'm beginning to think I should change the name of this Blog to "I See Weird Shit Every Day."

2002-09-28T17:37:00.000-07:00

Party Animal Siting

While driving down Holgate this afternoon, Ben and I saw a septagenarian in a wheel chair parked outside the retirement home with an oxygen tank and a fake license plate wired to the back of his chair which read "PBR ME."

2002-09-27T07:11:00.000-07:00

Check out this site if you like it when I talk about knitting. This woman is better at talking about it than I am. She is already a "Blog of Note" and she deserves all the buzz she can get. -link

2002-09-26T20:17:00.000-07:00

The man behind me at the grocery store today was buying a cucumber and condoms. And a bar of Lava soap and a package of feta cheese. I don't know what recipe these ingredients are for, but I never want to go to one of his dinner parties.

2002-09-26T10:21:00.000-07:00

To Do List

~~Call DMV to find out hours for CDL Permit test~~

~~Call Landlord to sign new lease~~

Scan photos at Earl's

2002-09-24T19:50:00.000-07:00

Sometimes I get sad that my altruistic days seem to be behind me. It seems that when I was living at home and working part time I had lots of compassion, spare change, and time for political debate. Now I just want to be left alone so I can recharge enough to go work for the man again tomorrow.

2002-09-23T20:45:00.000-07:00

I'm a democrat, but that doesn't mean I want to talk to my neighbors. Ben and I were lounging around in our bedroom. It's 7:30 on a Monday night, it's already dark outside. Someone knocks on the door. Maybe it's the landlord, maybe it's Earl, maybe it's Steve Robinson and Marty, come to bring us some salmon. Oh no, it's a goddamned petitioner. Probably supporting a good cause, but let's face it, by knocking on my door, not only are you preaching to the choir, but pissing the choir off. I seldom answer my phone for my loved ones, much less tele-marketers, and I find it much more disturbing to have someone walk up to my door to bother me than someone auto dialing my phone number, which I can simply ignore, thanks to my caller ID (which was orignally procured to screen calls from my mother, but that's a blog for another day). No one is going to win me over by rat-a tatting on my screen door with a clipboard in hand and a sheepish look. Someone knocking on my door means I have to stop what I'm doing, get some clothes on, peak out the window, and then pretend I'm suddenly, magically, not home, even though seconds earlier I could be heard cursing at the radio.
Here is a run down of the last petioner's visit. I was in the middle of searing tuna for my dinner, as it was a pleasant evening the front door was open. This is almost as good as an engraved invitation to a hungry ballot peddler. I find a shaggy young man in wrinkly clothes peering through my screen door.
"How you are doing?"
"I'm fine, but I don't allow strangers to come to my door when I'm not expecting anyone."
"Well, I could introduce myself."
(That would defeat the purpose of my rule, wouldn't it, dipshit? The rule exists so I don't have to meet anyone I'm not ready to meet.)
"No, thanks." And I close the big door. No more sweet summer breeze.

2002-09-22T16:52:00.000-07:00

My mother believes one can handle any of lifes challenges provided one is well rested and well fed. As a child, if I was upset, it was either, "You're just over-tired, you'll feel better in the morning," or "Well, no wonder you're cranky, it's three o'clock in the afternoon and you haven't eaten anything all day, have a glass of orange juice and some toast and you'll feel better."

She may be right.

2002-09-19T19:27:00.000-07:00

The last two days I have spent my free time after work cooking elaborate meals and then getting naked in the bedroom and decorating envelopes. The fall weather is wonderful, but I want it to be colder and rainier. It is supposed to get back up to 80 this weekend and it's irritating me.

2002-09-16T20:06:00.000-07:00

Tonight we bought a 1991 Diesel Jetta for $200. It needs a head gasket and a whole lotta love. This means, of course, that we now own three Volkswagens which form the colors of the German flag. A black Jetta, a goldish Rabbit pick-up, and a red Fox.

2002-09-15T19:30:00.000-07:00

All day, I have been waiting
for something more relevant
to happen to me,
so I would not have to write
about what I witnessed this morning.
Unfortunately,
nothing else came close to finding
a big, steaming pile of human feces, sitting in a pool of piss
in a thrift store on 124th and Powell.