Today I finally replaced my toilet handle.
I think the thing’s been broken for about three months and here’s why…
I’m very proud of my ability to fix things about the house. But I’m just guessing not very many people end up using their electric drill to get the plastic washer off the tank. As in literally screwing through an inch of plastic washer to break it apart because I couldn’t unscrew the damn thing. Hey, I had to sacrifice a drill bit, but it totally worked. The jury’s still out on water contact and the drill, thankfully.
27 January 2007
24 January 2007
Bright.
Lovely, bright, quiet, unexpected day.
I found the elusive black and white Kodak disposable camera this morning. Long and hard, I have searched. And all along, neatly stocked, sits the black and white, right down 39th. And I can’t believe how accessible technology has become. Now they sell digital keychain cameras and the like all under $30. So many cheap cameras to catch up with.
And last night, the joy of watching Madame Speaker’s face, to the right, well the left, but the right in TV land, of Mr. President’s face. And thank you, Madame Speaker, for your every carefully constrained smirk, lip-bite and glinting eye.
Today the sun shined again. I have this black and white disposable camera and I actually can’t get over all this color but I guess the point’s to see the light and there’s a lot of that for once.
And I think how funny George lassoed the moon. George, I think, must not have lived in Portland, OR or George would’ve lassoed the sun to win her heart.
I found the elusive black and white Kodak disposable camera this morning. Long and hard, I have searched. And all along, neatly stocked, sits the black and white, right down 39th. And I can’t believe how accessible technology has become. Now they sell digital keychain cameras and the like all under $30. So many cheap cameras to catch up with.
And last night, the joy of watching Madame Speaker’s face, to the right, well the left, but the right in TV land, of Mr. President’s face. And thank you, Madame Speaker, for your every carefully constrained smirk, lip-bite and glinting eye.
Today the sun shined again. I have this black and white disposable camera and I actually can’t get over all this color but I guess the point’s to see the light and there’s a lot of that for once.
And I think how funny George lassoed the moon. George, I think, must not have lived in Portland, OR or George would’ve lassoed the sun to win her heart.
23 January 2007
Honk for Peace.
Sunday, driving back from our hike, Mark, Caitlin and I saw a small group of protesters at the corner of 39th and Hawthorne as we approached the red light. Their gathering appeared informal and very much of the neighborhood meet-up variety; fleece wearing moms and middle aged dads with strollers and young children in tow. Their last minute signs spoke firmly of peace but moderation, “we love our troops, bring them home” and the like.
At the front of the pack a woman held a sign with the simple plea, “Honk for Peace!”
2pm at a busy intersection in a country supposedly overwhelmingly in favor of some sort of withdrawal and not a single horn sounds.
Mark sums it all up, saying more or less, “America’s never going to accomplish anything if people can’t even honk for peace.”
So we just sit there honking away, the lone honking car, angrily honking, at 2pm, corner of 39th and Hawthorne, honking for Peace, honking at indifference, honking, honking, honking.
Because, yeah, there’s something seriously wrong with this country if those people can make their signs and walk around and you can’t even be bothered to honk- not for democrats, not for republicans, not for withdrawal, not for funding or not funding – just for peace.
At the front of the pack a woman held a sign with the simple plea, “Honk for Peace!”
2pm at a busy intersection in a country supposedly overwhelmingly in favor of some sort of withdrawal and not a single horn sounds.
Mark sums it all up, saying more or less, “America’s never going to accomplish anything if people can’t even honk for peace.”
So we just sit there honking away, the lone honking car, angrily honking, at 2pm, corner of 39th and Hawthorne, honking for Peace, honking at indifference, honking, honking, honking.
Because, yeah, there’s something seriously wrong with this country if those people can make their signs and walk around and you can’t even be bothered to honk- not for democrats, not for republicans, not for withdrawal, not for funding or not funding – just for peace.
17 January 2007
You and me and the bottle makes three
Snow day two, verdict: cold. I’m beginning to think all vacations should be either one day or at least a week. A day’s just short enough not to feel guilty about whatever you’re relieved from. Anything longer than that and you need at least a week to leave the guilt behind.
Strange how all the Spring catalogues show up the first week of January. The fashion industry seemingly skips Winter rushing straight from an over-insulated Fall to prematurely bare Resort season. Taunting you, daring you, to count the months until the sun returns. If you start working out now, that bikini might actually look good by the time you can wear it. Of course, they’ll be selling scarves by then, July and all.
My how I would love a trip to a sunny beach somewhere south of the equator about now. You and me and the bottle makes three…nice dream.
Strange how all the Spring catalogues show up the first week of January. The fashion industry seemingly skips Winter rushing straight from an over-insulated Fall to prematurely bare Resort season. Taunting you, daring you, to count the months until the sun returns. If you start working out now, that bikini might actually look good by the time you can wear it. Of course, they’ll be selling scarves by then, July and all.
My how I would love a trip to a sunny beach somewhere south of the equator about now. You and me and the bottle makes three…nice dream.
16 January 2007
Snow day!
Snow, real snow, more than we’ve gotten in Portland since 2004! The newscasters said we might get an inch. This morning in bed I felt sure none had fallen. When I looked outside I couldn’t believe not just a scatter, not just a few flakes from the sky but an entire blanket of white covered everything and a steady shower still fell down.
No school, no work, nada nada! It’s so deep little Dylan looks like an absurd snow dog trotting through fluffy white surf up to his armpits. All down the street couples walk arm and arm relieved from work by a surprise holiday. My neighbors talk and laugh watching their children and recounting the miscalculated weather report. Children lay on their backs staring at the sky they can’t remember the last snow so wonder at the white and the weightlessness of it.
And the best part, my favorite part, the hoped for part…the news telling you, “do not drive unless you have to, the mayor is telling everyone to stay home”….yipee!
No school, no work, nada nada! It’s so deep little Dylan looks like an absurd snow dog trotting through fluffy white surf up to his armpits. All down the street couples walk arm and arm relieved from work by a surprise holiday. My neighbors talk and laugh watching their children and recounting the miscalculated weather report. Children lay on their backs staring at the sky they can’t remember the last snow so wonder at the white and the weightlessness of it.
And the best part, my favorite part, the hoped for part…the news telling you, “do not drive unless you have to, the mayor is telling everyone to stay home”….yipee!
14 January 2007
Freezing to death.
Yesterday I watched a police car, ambulance and fire truck rush to a man lying wrapped in a red fuzzy blanket on the sidewalk two blocks from my house just before the Bins. The policeman sort of just stood over him waiting, I guess, for the rescue team. I couldn’t tell, of course, if the man had died, was in hypothermic shock or who knows, just being picked up under some vagrancy law (but then why the ambulance and fire truck).
The sort of thing you try to tell yourself “this isn’t TV.” But, then you see how your brain can’t process the magnitude of it. First block; your eyes water. Second block; you tell yourself that by the third block you’ll forget but you’ll remind yourself because it’s so real. Third block; you remind yourself it’s so real and feel guilty for needing the reminding. Fourth block; you’re back to thinking how lovely the cold sun makes the sky.
And then, of course, I can only process the emotion through pop culture references. Like how that kid in American Beauty filmed a homeless person freezing to death and talked about how beautiful it was and it reminds me of the guy who made a documentary of all the jumpers off the Golden Gate Bridge for one year and did nothing to stop them and is that beautiful? Oh, it’s art? No thank you, I think. I don’t think this is really like the movies at all.
And then last night I find myself playing the “would you rather?” game, the game like that book of questions with the one about saving yourself or all the endangered whales. And I’m thinking about cold weather, I’m thinking “would we rather it be so cold everyone got to see that spectacular comet the other night or this man not die?” Would you rather, would you rather? As if there’s a trade off.
And then of course I write a blog about it. So we can care so much. Be aware that these things happen. Extend our useless empathy. Maybe even make a donation to a soup kitchen that will feed people but give them nowhere to sleep. Because really, we care so much. I mean, I do. Don’t you?
The sort of thing you try to tell yourself “this isn’t TV.” But, then you see how your brain can’t process the magnitude of it. First block; your eyes water. Second block; you tell yourself that by the third block you’ll forget but you’ll remind yourself because it’s so real. Third block; you remind yourself it’s so real and feel guilty for needing the reminding. Fourth block; you’re back to thinking how lovely the cold sun makes the sky.
And then, of course, I can only process the emotion through pop culture references. Like how that kid in American Beauty filmed a homeless person freezing to death and talked about how beautiful it was and it reminds me of the guy who made a documentary of all the jumpers off the Golden Gate Bridge for one year and did nothing to stop them and is that beautiful? Oh, it’s art? No thank you, I think. I don’t think this is really like the movies at all.
And then last night I find myself playing the “would you rather?” game, the game like that book of questions with the one about saving yourself or all the endangered whales. And I’m thinking about cold weather, I’m thinking “would we rather it be so cold everyone got to see that spectacular comet the other night or this man not die?” Would you rather, would you rather? As if there’s a trade off.
And then of course I write a blog about it. So we can care so much. Be aware that these things happen. Extend our useless empathy. Maybe even make a donation to a soup kitchen that will feed people but give them nowhere to sleep. Because really, we care so much. I mean, I do. Don’t you?
12 January 2007
Upon pain of death!
OK, I don’t know if reading early US Colonial Law is actually entertaining or just making me feel better about the ridiculously overwrought style that’s been creeping into my A-paper (“ridiculously overwrought?” who, me)? But, uh, I actually found the following excerpts hilarious:
#1: Sodomy, Adultery and Rape bad. Fornication just kinda bad.
“No man shall commit the horrible, and detestable sins of Sodomie upon pain of death; & he or she that can be lawfully convict of Adultery shall be punished with death. No man shall ravish or force any woman, maid or Indian, or other, upon pain of death, and know ye that he or shee, that shall commit fornication, and evident proofe made thereof, for their first fault shall be whipt, for their second they shall be whipt, and for their third shall be whipt three times a day a weeke for one month, and aske publique forgivenesse” (Dale's Laws of 1611).
#2: Don’t like your teenager? Kill ‘em.
“If a man have a stubborn or rebellious son, of sufficient years & understanding (viz) sixteen years of age, which will not obey the voice of his Father, or the voice of his Mother, and that when they have chastened him will not harken unto them: then shal his Father & Mother being his natural parets, lay hold on him, & …testifie unto them that their Son is stubborn & rebellious & will not obey their voice and chastisement, but lives in sundry notorious crimes, such a son shal be put to death. Deut. 21. 20.21." (Laws and Liberties of Mass of 1648).
#3: Shuffleboard is evil.
“Upon complaint of great disorder by the use of the game called Shuffle-board, in houses of common entertainment, wherby much pretious time is spent unfruitfully and much wast of wine and beer occasioned, it is therefore ordered and enacted by the Authoritie of this Court;
That no person shall henceforth use the said game of Shuffle-board in any such house, nor in any other house used as common for such purpose, upon payn for every Keeper of such house to forfeit for every such offence twenty shillings…And any Magistrate may hear and determin any offence against this Law" (Laws and Liberties of Mass of 1648).
#1: Sodomy, Adultery and Rape bad. Fornication just kinda bad.
“No man shall commit the horrible, and detestable sins of Sodomie upon pain of death; & he or she that can be lawfully convict of Adultery shall be punished with death. No man shall ravish or force any woman, maid or Indian, or other, upon pain of death, and know ye that he or shee, that shall commit fornication, and evident proofe made thereof, for their first fault shall be whipt, for their second they shall be whipt, and for their third shall be whipt three times a day a weeke for one month, and aske publique forgivenesse” (Dale's Laws of 1611).
#2: Don’t like your teenager? Kill ‘em.
“If a man have a stubborn or rebellious son, of sufficient years & understanding (viz) sixteen years of age, which will not obey the voice of his Father, or the voice of his Mother, and that when they have chastened him will not harken unto them: then shal his Father & Mother being his natural parets, lay hold on him, & …testifie unto them that their Son is stubborn & rebellious & will not obey their voice and chastisement, but lives in sundry notorious crimes, such a son shal be put to death. Deut. 21. 20.21." (Laws and Liberties of Mass of 1648).
#3: Shuffleboard is evil.
“Upon complaint of great disorder by the use of the game called Shuffle-board, in houses of common entertainment, wherby much pretious time is spent unfruitfully and much wast of wine and beer occasioned, it is therefore ordered and enacted by the Authoritie of this Court;
That no person shall henceforth use the said game of Shuffle-board in any such house, nor in any other house used as common for such purpose, upon payn for every Keeper of such house to forfeit for every such offence twenty shillings…And any Magistrate may hear and determin any offence against this Law" (Laws and Liberties of Mass of 1648).
11 January 2007
Super-fantastic mini-snow day
Greetings from my super-fantastic, slightly busy, brightly sunny with a coating of snow day!
So, Portland finally got the snow the newscasters have been yapping about, albeit all of an inch. But, it’s really bright and sunny and just cold and white enough to bring some of that white light through the window shades; quite a nice change.
School starts next Monday so I drove up to campus today and spent a boatload of money on books. At this point in my law school career none of the classes interest me so I pretty much choose whatever seems easiest or least likely to make my head explode. This term it’s Disability, Election, and Criminal Law, a Seminar on End of Life Ethics and American Legal History. Yee-haw. But really, I don’t mind being back in school. The reading sucks but most the time all I have to do is show up and play solitaire on my laptop.
Spent the rest of the afternoon running errands. OK, so hitting thrift-stores doesn’t exactly count as an errand but the hunt for good denim takes true dedication and I feel like I worked my ass off. Totally worth it: I managed to find both a pair of Diesels and AGs in my size AND hemmed for a short girl. Sweet.
Home now and back to working on the paper and bills that can’t be bargained for.
High hopes that all the moisture will start to freeze by the time I take Dylan for a walk tonight though and we can have a fun little adventure.
Hope everyone’s enjoying the mini-snow day!
So, Portland finally got the snow the newscasters have been yapping about, albeit all of an inch. But, it’s really bright and sunny and just cold and white enough to bring some of that white light through the window shades; quite a nice change.
School starts next Monday so I drove up to campus today and spent a boatload of money on books. At this point in my law school career none of the classes interest me so I pretty much choose whatever seems easiest or least likely to make my head explode. This term it’s Disability, Election, and Criminal Law, a Seminar on End of Life Ethics and American Legal History. Yee-haw. But really, I don’t mind being back in school. The reading sucks but most the time all I have to do is show up and play solitaire on my laptop.
Spent the rest of the afternoon running errands. OK, so hitting thrift-stores doesn’t exactly count as an errand but the hunt for good denim takes true dedication and I feel like I worked my ass off. Totally worth it: I managed to find both a pair of Diesels and AGs in my size AND hemmed for a short girl. Sweet.
Home now and back to working on the paper and bills that can’t be bargained for.
High hopes that all the moisture will start to freeze by the time I take Dylan for a walk tonight though and we can have a fun little adventure.
Hope everyone’s enjoying the mini-snow day!
10 January 2007
Adorable fat cat
I don't know why I find this ridiculously fat cat so funny but I do. He's adorable and I wish he lived with me. The world needs more dog-sized cats. And giant pugs.
05 January 2007
Resolution 2
Today I got to try on my second resolution, to be less apologetically and more authentically me.
It happened at the perfect moment. I’d just pulled out of my drycleaner’s parking lot after figuring out my passenger headlight is out and I sat at the corner trying to turn back onto ever-congested Macadam. As I craned my neck looking for an opening to turn somewhere in the next five minutes a glimmery taupe glorified mini-van on bigger wheels pulled up behind me or rather just off-center of me but 3” off my bumper.
So I’m sitting at the corner looking, looking, and looking for any goddamn possibility to turn. And the driver of the taupe monstrosity – I can’t see her, but I know it’s a her, and I know she’s got brown layered jaw length hair, her nails probably match her car and she’s wearing sunglasses even though it’s 4 pm and drizzling – keeps rocking her car forward and back impatiently like a subtle hint.
And the nano-second she beeps her horn at me my favorite finger slices 90 degrees into the air like a backhand slap.
I turn and she screeches past me in the other lane gesturing wildly.
Damn. That felt good.
And yes, slicing the air with my favorite finger makes me feel more authentically me. As does calling other drivers developmentally disabled, or shouting at bad drivers “it takes a village!” And I prefer to do just about anything in my car with a cigarette in my left hand. So, if you have a problem with any of this, you probably shouldn’t get a ride with me.
It happened at the perfect moment. I’d just pulled out of my drycleaner’s parking lot after figuring out my passenger headlight is out and I sat at the corner trying to turn back onto ever-congested Macadam. As I craned my neck looking for an opening to turn somewhere in the next five minutes a glimmery taupe glorified mini-van on bigger wheels pulled up behind me or rather just off-center of me but 3” off my bumper.
So I’m sitting at the corner looking, looking, and looking for any goddamn possibility to turn. And the driver of the taupe monstrosity – I can’t see her, but I know it’s a her, and I know she’s got brown layered jaw length hair, her nails probably match her car and she’s wearing sunglasses even though it’s 4 pm and drizzling – keeps rocking her car forward and back impatiently like a subtle hint.
And the nano-second she beeps her horn at me my favorite finger slices 90 degrees into the air like a backhand slap.
I turn and she screeches past me in the other lane gesturing wildly.
Damn. That felt good.
And yes, slicing the air with my favorite finger makes me feel more authentically me. As does calling other drivers developmentally disabled, or shouting at bad drivers “it takes a village!” And I prefer to do just about anything in my car with a cigarette in my left hand. So, if you have a problem with any of this, you probably shouldn’t get a ride with me.
04 January 2007
Resolution 1
So, one of my resolutions this year was to kick the Delivered Dish habit. I can’t say the pure laziness of ordering all my meals motivated me to evaluate the practice. And while health certainly concerns me that didn’t really motivate me either. I think mainly the economy of the local food banks inspired me.
See, over Thanksgiving I discovered that $20.30 could feed one senior through Loaves and Fishes for one week. Then, looking into Oregon Food Bank over the holidays I discovered that, using their resources, they can convert a dollar donation into six pounds of food. And if you want to buy one meal for the homeless at the grocery store? $1.80.
It’s pretty amazing that I could buy Delivered Dish for myself for a week, or I could feed myself and a couple of homeless people.
I’m not giving up the denim addiction though. We all have our greed. If you don’t, you can be a Saint for both of us.
By the way, if you’re looking for an AWESOME soup cookbook covering many regions, check out Twelve Months of Monastery Soups by Victor D’avila-Latourette.
See, over Thanksgiving I discovered that $20.30 could feed one senior through Loaves and Fishes for one week. Then, looking into Oregon Food Bank over the holidays I discovered that, using their resources, they can convert a dollar donation into six pounds of food. And if you want to buy one meal for the homeless at the grocery store? $1.80.
It’s pretty amazing that I could buy Delivered Dish for myself for a week, or I could feed myself and a couple of homeless people.
I’m not giving up the denim addiction though. We all have our greed. If you don’t, you can be a Saint for both of us.
By the way, if you’re looking for an AWESOME soup cookbook covering many regions, check out Twelve Months of Monastery Soups by Victor D’avila-Latourette.
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