Here it goes again.

So, 1Q goals:

• haiku a day - done! well, for the most part... I cheated a bit by writing a few in one day to catch up for missed days, and I made stuff up for a few of them (I did have a cavity, sadly, and The Illusionist was actually pretty good - but that bookcase sitch? taken. care. of.) but otherwise, 90ish haikus in as many days - not too shabby
  
• two books/month - crap, I WAS one short so therefore this one counts, and otherwise done, done, done, done
  
• Shamrock Run 2011 - done! possibly a PR for 5 miles too
  
• anything on The List - I lived vicariously through people attending SXSW, does that count?
  

I struggled with figuring out the 2Q goals. I can be overly ambitious with what seem to be wonderful ideas. But then I get bored or frustrated with them, which causes guilt and pressure, and these are supposed to be fun, dammit! So instead of the "song/photo/gratitude of the day" ideas I've been tossing around, I've decided to go with:

• new cookie recipe every Wednesday - I need a catchy acronym or name for this, something like "DDT - drop diet Thursday" or something... marketing friends are working on this but I'm open to suggestions
  
• use at least one Chinook book coupon each week - to encourage supporting local businesses (albeit at reduced price) and exploring more of what my fine city has to offer
  
• get ready to run 13.6 miles on July 4 - self explanatory
• anything on The List

This doesn't mean I won't occasionally post a "song o'the day" or maybe even a "playlist o'the week" now and then. And when spring finally sticks around I expect to have camera in hand every moment I'm outside. And gratitude? It's an everyday thing already. Some days I may even write about it.

You've got 90 days, what's your plan?

"At a time like this, we can't afford the luxury of thinking!"

I'm not going to make it.

I know I've read the required two books for March, but I really, really wanted to finish Atlas Shrugged today. Earlier this month I picked up where I left off (around page 300) and managed to plow through another 600 pages. Which, in and of itself, is quite a feat for me these days.

This morning: another 20 pages down thanks to a verrrrrrrrry late bus, which left only about 100 to go... Between the Max ride home and no plans this evening, I really thought it was going to happen.

Last week a coworker noticed what I was reading and asked how it was coming. "Ehhh, it's been great so far but she just got to 'utopia' and now it's feeling a bit like one of the later boring seasons of Lost." He mentioned something about a tedious soliloquy delivered over the radio. "I haven't gotten to that one yet but I've read a lot of 10-page soliloquies so far..." He just smiled and walked away.

This evening on the Max I finally reached the radio speech and flipped ahead out of curiosity.

FIFTY PAGES.

People, it's a FIFTY PAGE soliloquy. Skimming it briefly, it looks like the speaker sums up the first 922 pages in this fifty page soliloquy. Really? I could've read fifty pages instead of 900 and gotten the same message? REALLY?

I am so done with this book. I don't care what John Galt has to say, I don't care about the fate of Dagny Taggart who has three gorgeous, smart, rich men madly in love with her (world's tiniest violin!), I am tired of Jim Taggart screaming, and I know what happens to the railroads - the airlines take over and train tickets get wildly expensive.

That said, I'm not sad I attempted it. I won't try to insert my high school analysis of the politics of the story but it's oddly relevant with today's economy. Or maybe not so oddly? I've read that Rand was a libertarian but I really see a lot of socialist in her (the benevolent socialism I believe in, not the "so-not-socialism" everyone claims Obama is trying to instill upon our country). Or maybe it's just that I see a lot of anti-capitalism, which I totally get behind. I don't know, I haven't kept up with political definitions of late. I just agree that smart people who appreciate hard work should be entitled to profit whereas bloodsucking Washingtonians shouldn't make a single penny from things they steal from others.

As with The Fountainhead I loved the characters (well, most of the main ones). I wish I had their stoicism, honesty, brains and poker faces. If I could look certain coworkers in the eye and honestly say what I felt, like these characters consistently do, I'd either be fired in a heartbeat or made VP. Either one wouldn't be so bad.

Honestly, I probably will try to skim the last 50 pages or so tomorrow at lunch just for closure. I mean, 900 pages is quite a commitment to just abandon. But I might also have to cross War and Peace off The List. All this classic literature is just too time consuming when Jon Stewart can just sum it up for me via current events in daily 15 minute chunks.

Look where all this talkin' got us, baby.

if books had theme songs
"white, discussion" gets my vote
for rand's "atlas shrugged"

I am never going to get to sleep tonight.

way too much sugar
in this cookie recipe
the s'mores didn't help

And tomorrow is more of the same.

two days, no meetings
most people would be happy
i'm dreadfully bored

Please just stay ahead of the Rangers.

i cannot believe

the pens are doing so well

with just half a team

Another belated Friday five.

I always enjoy making CDs for people, even if they might not enjoy them, because I get to sort through my digital music and wonder where the hell some of it came from. I've listened to it and kept it around, so clearly I like it, but...

Five cases in point:

• "Kalimba" by Mr. Scruff (from the album Ninja Tuna, of course)
• "Bongo Bong" by Manu Chao (so catchy! but so odd!)
  
• "Incredibly Drunk on Whiskey" (which is literally exactly what the song is about) by Memphis
  
• "Dawn of the Dead" by Does It Offend You, Yeah? (from You Have No Idea What You're Getting Yourself Into*)
  
• and OH MY GOD who put all this John Denver in my iTunes library?!**
  

My recent endeavors to upload all remaining music to my new computer resulted in mystery CDs/jump drives and no track lists which required searching for song names/albums by lyrics. And it seems that of late, my short-term memory has gone to hell. Are you responsible for any of this? If so, thanks!

_______________
* I like the song but that is just way too many words. In everything. And I am not a fan of this punctuation-in-band-names-phase (I'm talking to you, Portugal. The Man).

** OK, that was me.

"Recipe" PSA.

Trader Joe's frozen potato wedges
+ olive oil
+ black pepper
+ salt
+ rosemary
+ 25 mins @ 325
---------------------------------
YUM

(Flip once halfway through.)

A case of the Sundays.

kayak trip a flop
"the illusionist" was eh
now what do i do?

Thank you, Ikea.

at (very) long last
that bookcase situation
is taken care of

Belated Friday five.

I read a few of the Sookie Stackhouse books last year while waiting for True Blood to become available on Netflix. They read like a 60-year-old frumpy southern lady living vicariously through a 26-year-old hottie who ran with vamps (I mean, what 26-year-old TALKS like that?). After about four books* I couldn't take any more, and when the series finally arrived in my mailbox I sent it back without really even giving it a shot. But... Alan Ball! How could it be bad? So recently I got curious again.

I'm only four episodes in, but Mr. Ball has come through. Five quotes that made me smile, in no particular order except that I saved the best for last:

• "You're dumber than a box o' hair..."
• "You were just licking blood out of my head. I don't think it gets much more personal than that."
• "You should not be allowed to work in no situation where you actually have to interact with people.”
• "Don’t say uh-oh. Vampires aren’t supposed to say uh-oh."
• "Do you know who I would really wish to come to Bon Temps? Buffy."

________________
* Yes, I got through four of them... good bus porn.

Tonight it was six.

one or seventeen
no matter how many miles
first two always suck

And now I'M doing it!

jesus harold christ
the whining is killing me
slowly but surely

Maybe it's laundry day, OK?!

yes - this is a skirt
no - I'm not interviewing
happens every time

Wouldn't you like to know?

Today's haiku was work-related and sent to someone I work with. So there.

In other news, after spending the last six months looking for a pair of black shoes to rival my long-lost beloved square-toed Steve Madden loafers, I have become one of those people who buys the same exact shoe in multiple colors. Granted, those colors are black and brown like most of my wardrobe. But hey (wait for it, wait for it), if the shoe fits...

Anyway, thanks Franco Sarto. I've had the brown pair for years, they've held up and served me well. In 4-5 business days their fraternal twins can join them in the file cabinet drawer at work until summer comes and my toes can be free.

Blue skies come down on me.

after work today
walked around with a dumb smile
spring has sprung at last

One more band and it would've been a late Friday five.

I never gave the Portland Cello Project much thought. In fact, I tend to shy away from anything with "cello" in the name. Same with Pink Martini (/"pink"). Both bands are pretty big in Portland but despite gigs at places I love and/or with bands I love, I just never bothered with either of them.

Tonight I saw this. Be sure to read the description for context. Apparently they have also covered R. Kelly, A-Ha and Britney Spears (just to name a few). I might have to check them out. And that is the last time you will ever see "R. Kelly" or "Britney Spears" mentioned on this blog.

I stand by my Pink Martini decision though. I mean, really. I guess I get it, but it's not my thing.

I found these looking for a great Loch Lomond performance. Still looking, but I'm pretty sure I was at this show. It was the one where Ritchie's socks kept falling down, right?

And let the record show that I WILL see Flogging Molly live someday.

Age knows no political bounds.

every president
is noticeably more gray
two years into it

Um, that's right.

This sentence contains a link to a great blog post.

Thanks, U2.

same as all the rest
nothing much to say i guess
fourteen days to go

And yet, I wouldn't have it any other way right now.

quiet friday evening
just tea, true blood and blankets
damn, i'm getting old

9 days down, 38 to go.

lent overlapping
with green beer and jameson's
evil catholics

I love my dentist.

heated chair massage
paraffin wax hand treatment
and no cavities

Fortunately, the stuff on paper is still pretty much valid.

spent hours talking
finally made some progress
have to scrap it all

Namaste.

good start to the week
common souls seeking same goal:
sound bodies and minds

I don't care if it WAS on Grey's Anatomy.

after twenty times
canal song (end of sentence)
is still just lovely

preview

"I WANNA KNOW WHAT LOVE ISSSSSSSSSSSSSSS..."

not sure what is worse
neighbor blaring foreigner
or his booming voice

At least we have a view.

longest week ever
gray skies finally cleared up
next stop: happy face

Syllables aside, this does not even count as a haiku.

church plus strobe lights plus
fog machine plus rock and roll...
all kinds of awesome

This haiku brought to you by Arcade Fire Radio on Pandora.

paperback writer
trapped in middle management
fated to pretend

And so begins 47 days...

... of a temporary hiatus on Jen(n)'s happy hours.

In no way related to that guy called Jesus and that religion called Christianity, every year around this time I consider giving up either booze or swearing or coffee, thinking it might be good for the vague (but-vague-with-a-future) plan. Oh, and good for my physical/mental health and my soul and all that other shit.

I think really hard about it. And then I say "*&%$ it," have a drink and set the coffeemaker for the next morning.

This year I am finishing off this fine bottle of wine and looking forward to focused plotting on the "what the hell could I be doing that would make me happy" goals. Because I really have no idea, and this fine bottle of wine ain't getting me any closer.

File under...

... need to communicate this more regularly.

Widely applicable.

"sweet pants of fire -
WHY IS EVERYTHING STUPID?!"
still the best fug quote

Always look on the bright side of life.

So yes, last night I was rudely awakened by some drunk friends of neighbors around 1:30am. I have had serious insomnia issues lately and I finally got back to sleep, briefly, between 6-7am this morning. Here's a recap of the other 4.5 hours:

• Tossed and turned.
• Finished the aforementioned well-intended child's birthday present, Masterpiece - the cutest beetle/human friendship story I will ever read. Probably the only beetle/human friendship story I will read... but well worth the time and I'm actually glad someone spilled beer on my backpack at the Decemberists show (beer which soaked through my backpack and this book, which inspired me to read it before trying to sell it back to Powell's so that I could buy a replacement childhood fave to send to said child until I determined whether the original purchase was even birthday-present-worthy). It was. And the grown-up concepts made me want to go back and re-read all my childhood faves to see what I missed the first time around.
  
• Tossed and turned some more.
• Finally gave up and streamed An Education. Carey Mulligan was brilliant and it was nice to see Olivia Williams again but the eternally creepy Peter Sarsgaard was... well, just bloody creepy (when will I learn?!), and the plot was thin at best - really, overbearing critical Dad? You're going to let your 16 year old daughter romp off to Paris for the weekend with a smarmy guy twice her age? Really?? I saw the end coming and the whole film left me with a gross feeling. It would've fit well at the Oscars this year, actually.
  
• Tossed and turned a bit more.
• Had a nap between 6-7am.

I can't believe I'm still vertical almost a whole day later. I made it through the work day without incident and I've juiced apples, pears, carrots, celery and sweet potatoes for the coming few mornings. But I'm not hungry now and that's not good... especially since I'm craving fries and I went out of my way to pick some up tonight.

Between recent events (including crappy nutrition) and tendonitis for ~5 weeks, this Shamrock Run on Sunday is going to be more of a sham than a run. That's a bit frustrating. But awesome interactions with ankle-biters this week,* House (featuring zombies!) on TV right now and the crocus coming up in droves in Portland... yeah, in general, life is good.

________________
* Including a favorite ankle-biter singing "happy trails" as Johnny Cash to every single thing in her kitchen, and the ankle-biter on the bus this morning who did not want to hear the next "Frog and Toad" story because she "just wasn't in the mood" (said in a totally serious and emo way - she was probably three but she became my Monday hero and you'd better believe that I did my damnedest to work that quote into every conversation at the office).

Inspired by insomnia, and the drunk asshats next door.

lean on my doorbell
in the middle of the night?
bloody *@#%ing hell

doing pretty well
for someone who's been awake
for eighteen hours

"I want you to draw me a crocodile!"

While perusing the airport selection in January I noticed that James Franco had written a book. I filed this information under my mental list of things to borrow from the library (James! Franco! Wrote! A! Book!) and went on to purchase Atlas Shrugged (which I am now 1/3 of the way through and despite the slow progress, I am loving) and Galapagos (which I have not started but I expect to love).

I am sad to report that I didn't love Palo Alto: Stories. It read like a mash-up of Gummo and Mallrats. (If that bears no meaning to you, think middle class kids setting neighborhood cats on fire... Yuh-huh.) That said, I have to admire how he crafted the stories. As other critics have noted, the stories don't really wrap up. I think that was the intent. And it really did feel like they were written by bored suburban teenagers and each one made me very, extremely, incredibly, insert-other-adverb-here, uncomfortable. There is something to be said for that, as well as the fact that I actually read every story despite my discomfort (but I don't want to think about what's to be said about that).

To counterbalance this barrage of negativity, I continued plowing through Atlas Shrugged, and also read this winner which I ran across at Powell's in October and decided I needed in my life, only not at that time, but in February. And I made it halfway through a well-intended child's birthday present which I will talk about in my March book wrap-up.

OK, goal #2... it's slow going but I'm getting there.

Taking the good with the bad.

annual review
not much "constructive" feedback
guess that's a good thing
(thursday)

those who resist it
are usually the ones
who need to hear it
(friday)

made amends today
painful but necessary
things are looking up
(saturday)

Don't forget to change your calendar.

your march: cute monkeys
my march: fighting polar bears
how interesting

"Douchebag" holds true though.

"put a bird on it"
has officially replaced
"there's an app for that"