"Inside every cynical person, there is a disappointed idealist."

You know how you never really believe in all that astrology crap, especially the mass-produced horoscopes that are almost always so generic and based on major world events? But every now and then, you read one, and you're all "OMG DUDE that is totally spot on!" And it motivates you to do that thing you were on the fence about doing that is probably a really good idea?

I think that qualifies as an awesome thing. Don't you?

________________
Subject - thank you, and hope you're still RingIP, George Carlin.

In case you haven't been to the eye doctor lately.

Wild onion:

one...


... or two?

Bleeding hearts:

one...


... or two?

Wild iris:

one...

...or two?

Thank you, Clackamas River Trail, for making up for lost wildflower time.

Getting my groove back.

Most people who know me know that I've had my share of therapy. Probably not enough, in fact, but I've found that pretty much everyone is in need of a little therapy now and then.

This past winter was pretty rough for many reasons. One of these reasons had to do with not knowing what I wanted to be when I grew up. Okay, I know we never ever really know what we want to be when we grow up, but I'd gotten to the point (again) where I felt like there should be more to life than pushing paper in cubeland, no matter how worthwhile cubeland professed to be. This, along with several other reasons that I won't go into here, encouraged me to get some help moving past the winter "meh."

So I went back and did some soul-searching. Part of my work this time involved an incredibly tedious and annoying but informative exercise where for every hour of every day I wrote down what I was doing, who I was with, and how I felt.

Every. Hour. Of. The. Day. I did this for three weeks straight. Did I mention that it was tedious?

What I knew was reinforced - I am happier during creative endeavors, I like community and camaraderie (and yet, like Randall, I hate people, how ironic), I like closure and I don't like spending days on end updating spreadsheets or having my time wasted. So that's helped shape my recent work and life pursuits.

The best side effect of the tedium was learning how to be in tune with my mood at any given moment. It sounds so simple, right? I'm happy/not happy RIGHT NOW because... But instantly recognizing where you're at (and how you got there, and how to redirect the negative energy into something positive) is not always easy, or pleasant, for that matter. Sometimes things build up in your subconscious and your pencil point breaking during a meeting can be the cause of your meltdown, and that's just the way it goes.

It's still a work in progress (and I suspect this will be true for the rest of my life) but I've definitely enjoyed the power of tuning in and then turning off or redirecting as appropriate. On top of this, yoga has helped with reminders to be present and put things into perspective. Will anyone die because the client gets a deliverable that's 90% instead of 100%. Um, no... and it's pretty likely they won't even notice the 10% of diminished return.

Unless they are a crazy perfectionist like you. In which case, you both need a vacation already.

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This post brought to you by the top five regrets of people on their deathbeds. I'm taking #2 and #5 to heart.

Thought o' the day.

There is nothing more sad than fuzzy cheese.

(Related advice o' the day: do NOT Google "fuzzy cheese." Seriously. DO NOT. Just know that I am talking about the leftover brie that gathered some moss in my refrigerator... and nothing else.)

Not nearly as disgusting as it sounds.

And best of all - free!

Belated Wednesday three.

Movies that have made me think more than once this past week about quitting my job and traveling the world because life is too fucking short to spend 2080 hours a year sitting in a cubicle staring at a computer screen, in no particular order...

One Week: But first, a disclaimer. I am not ashamed to admit that I watched Dawson's Creek back in the day. Not religiously or anything - I mean, it was no My So-Called Life - but enough that I can tell you all about the characters and their intertwined high school dramas. I didn't care for the lot of them in general, because as with The Hills or Glee, WHOSE HIGH SCHOOL LIFE IS LIKE THAT??, but I did have a particular fondness for Joshua Jackson's and Michelle Williams' characters. (And the later addition, Michael Pitt, who has gone on to do some amazing things. Unlike our friend Mr. Dawson.) So I tend to follow those actors and in general, this has served me well. One day when I'm ready for more crime scene investigation shows I might even hop on the Fringe bandwagon.

So anyway, this guy (played by Jackson) unexpectedly finds out that he has mad crazy cancer raging through his body and he will die any minute if it's not treated, or possibly in a few months if it is. (Note: spoilers follow but I suspect I lost you with the DC reference so I have no preconceptions of you actually queuing this film anyway.) He does what any rational person would do - ditches his fiance, buys a motorcycle and heads west across Canada taking pictures with the "world's largest bacon slice," "world's biggest set of false teeth," etc., and so on. And he has some revelations and a love affair and then apparently he does the next thing any rational person would do - gets treatment and survives and writes a book about it.

The point is... Actually, I don't know what the point is. Maybe that's the point. But I liked this movie a lot. I watched it during a break from crisis mode at work and it was helpful perspective. A bit predictable, so take the recommendation with a grain of salt.

Keith: Another disclaimer. I hate that I have seen A Walk to Remember more times than I care to admit, but I have. It's a big reason I didn't subscribe to cable when I moved into my new apartment a year ago (I get sucked into all this sentimental crap! I do not need to watch The Lake House or 13 Going on 30 or In Her Shoes one more time!). Anyway, Keith is at least three times better than AWTR - in a surprisingly refreshing reflection of what high school IS really like, it's a combination of teenage cruelty-meets-teenage superstar-meets-tragic ending in a way we haven't quite seen before. The actors did a fantastic job and the end to this one is also predictable, but I am not ashamed to say that I liked it a lot.

Hesher: A third disclaimer. I will go on the official record to state that I will watch anything Joseph Gordon-Levitt puts his name on from now until eternity. In most cases I will pay money to do so. Hesher, a story involving death and grief and pain, features JGL shirtless for a good portion of the film. As with the other two, I saw the end coming about 10 minutes into it and as I predicted, I didn't like it, but I always hate endings anyway. Oh and also? Rainn Wilson like you have never seen him. I was never a fan but now I am.

And a final disclaimer: it's not just about the movies. My mom has recently shared some pretty nontrivial health issues that are causing her to contemplate how much she wants to invest in herself (lifestyle- and financially-speaking) when in reality, she could die tomorrow regardless of whatever she chooses. Generally speaking I'm okay with the circle of life stuff (and so is she) but between her choking up on the phone telling me, and me feeling guilty for adamantly wanting to be so far away from the east coast, I'm having a hard time with all of this.

On the up side, it makes me want to run that half marathon over July 4th weekend even more than I did before. Two weeks off training and allergy season settling in nicely here in PDX, but tomorrow? Ten miles, here I come. Or at least eight. Eight would be okay.

Two down...

... three to go.

Wednesday three bordering on crazy cat lady post.

I've been catless for over two years. I have enjoyed my various local no-planning-required weekend jaunts (and that four-month-foreign-country foray) immensely. I also started Auntie Jen(n)'s Kitty Camp for friends while they are on extended vacation. Guaranteed unconditional love and no charge to parents other than the cost of food, litter and any other supplies - which they've already purchased so they just drop off along with Kitty. This summer features a newbie whose parents will be checking out Sweden in a few weeks and a camp regular (and let's be honest, a camp favorite) whose parents are getting married and going away for their honeymoon later this summer.

Anyway. I think that's the level of feline commitment I'm willing to make at this point. I considered volunteering with the Oregon Humane Society but they require 12 hours a month (and about $50) which amounts to about 20 hours a month just from figuring out how to manage 12 volunteer hours a month. Frankly, I'm just not ready to give up that much free time so if I want to pet cats without having to deal with potential adopters (aka PEOPLE), I'll just wander through my neighborhood. And donate the $50.

However, certain things still make me miss Her Maj. I have had lots of cats in my life but this gal really stuck with me. Three of these things in no particular order:

• I still wait for the yowl and leg weaving when I open a can of tuna. Still. Probably will until the day I die. It looked a lot like this.
  
• Friends are coming to visit this weekend. As I was cleaning over the last few days it occurred to me that I haven't vacuumed since the last time a friend visited... at Thanksgiving. The lint tray in the dryer is always pretty clean when I pull it out. And the bathroom (where I would normally store the litter box) just required a quick wipe-down. Anyone with a cat will grasp the significance of any of this.
  
• All this baking lately! Back in my cat lady days, when I would cook or bake for friends I would scrub counters, ensure preoccupation of the felines in other rooms, before/after run everything through the dishwasher religiously, and promptly store dishes and utensils safely away to ensure no cat hairs would encroach. Now? Eh. Wash my hands and hope for the best. Wash dishes by hand, air them dry - or not - and maybe, eventually, throw it all into the cabinet or drawer.

All that said, I miss that little cat. So to bring some good karma into the picture I bring you my favorite Her Maj posts:

• Like this one.
• And this one.
• Or perhaps this one.
  

_________________
Also, why I don't own a house: cleaning took me about an hour. An HOUR!! I spread it out over three days just to reduce the agony. THE AGONY!! I actually spent more time cleaning my car than my apartment.

And! It's also likely that Kitty will go home with an exciting new toy that I can't resist from Pets on Broadway so really, I lose and the parents and Kitty make out on this deal. I reaaallllly need to figure out how to market this widely (and change up the model so that I can live off the income).

Belated Friday five.

I have never claimed to be a "foodie" but I do enjoy food. In honor of The Rapture(TM) or lack thereof, I bring you five things I would want at my last supper. In no particular order except perhaps the last, most important item:

• an Arizmendi cherry corn scone (or six)
  
• a slice (or six) of Zachary's spinach/mushroom stuffed pizza
  
• The Olive Garden's spinach artichoke dip customized my way - more spinach, more artichoke, more parmesan cheese, more black pepper plus a little red, and more oven time
  
• crab ranggoon from Sweet Basil
  
• a bottle of Suntory Yamazaki, preferably the 25 year - but any year will do, really

I have an entire photo gallery of foreign food over my dining room table, but aside from swapping bullets #1-4 with an authentic Ecuadorian empenada or ceviche, or a kilo of that fine Andean cheese, I'm opting to stay semi-local.

There is no dessert on this list either. Despite my recent cookie obsession I'm just not big on sweets. (I considered something involving peanut butter but really, I've eaten enough of it in this lifetime. Chocolate? Nah. Which is not to say I'm not about to enjoy a bowl of B&J's peanut butter cup ice cream...)

________________
Inspired by this, which I ran across via a pretty darned circuitous route. Local, low-key, overcast Sunday = waaaaaay too much time on ye olde www...

One down...

... four to go.

A haiku dedicated to the life in your years.

buffalo tom: old
average age of crowd: forty
great music: ageless

hey, kids, rock 'n roll, rock on

Last night I got to see a 25-year-old band I loved in college play a tiny show in a fantastic venue. As I hoped, "Taillights Fade" was the second song on the set list. This served to thin the crowd who was just there to see the opening band ("The Heavenly States," a Bay Area band I ended up liking a lot). The rest of us stuck around as Bill, Chris and namesake Tom* alternated between excellent old and new songs. Great show worth every penny of my $17. In a rare turn of events, I was kind of sad that it wasn't more crowded.

Everyone but me was sporting a plaid shirt. It felt like the 90's. Also? The crowd was at least my age or older - at one point Bill said something about how he knew it was getting late and people had to get home to pay their sitters, but he hoped we would stick around for a few more songs.

Anyway. Had a few beers at the show, got about six hours of sleep, put in a hard day's work... and still ran 10 miles this evening.

Hey, Rapture? BRING IT.

________________
* I hate referring to band member names because it's pretty rare that I actually know the band members. But after 25 years there are certain people I feel I know on some level. Bill/Chris/Tom, Ed/Stone/Mike/Jeff, Billy, Trent, Michael/Peter/Mike - these are all friends. Or, at least "friends."

This haiku brought to you by The Rapture(TM).

fix the transmission
or cage dive with great white sharks?
you're really asking?

________________
Actually, it's brought to you by Mark Morford's column.

PSA: Tuesday evening stroll in the Gorge - a bazillion times more therapeutic than a gym treadmill.

Working for the weekend.

It's no Iguazu Falls, but Central Oregon will do in a pinch...

Belated Friday five.

Next month will mark a year in my fine '70s apartment, so I figured it was about time to get some greenery in here. My pots have been taking up space in the closet for far too long and the fake flowers I bought as an interim step are beginning to wear out their welcome. I also haven't done much local shopping lately so it was a good excuse to hit the Portland Nursery...

Behold my overwhelmingly exciting Saturday. Later I might vacuum!

Anyway, five oxygen-generating, smile-inducing additions to the abode, in no particular order:

Nephtytis - I'm a sucker for multicolored leaves

two "2 Inch Tropical Plants" (that's really the
name on the tag) for the bathroom

New Guinea Impatiens - should bloom orange, to match the couch

peace lily now gracing the bedroom, in the hopes
that it will bring me more pleasant
dreams than the one I had last night

When it comes to houseplants I usually have three requirements: smallish, needing low light (I tend to keep the shades closed), hard to kill. Check, check and check.

I give them all about a month of survival.

Early Wednesday three.

To counteract three recent pieces of news that totally suck (two personal, one public), here are three things that absolutely don't suck. In no particular order...

• perspective
• endless volunteer opportunities like this one
  
• Z-Trip Presents: All Access Beastie Boys Megamix
  

Oh, and ice cream for dinner doesn't really suck all that much either.

Holy crap.

It's May tomorrow.

That is all.

Next year I'm giving up rain for Lent.

I left this morning at 6:45am on a quest for a long but easy, beautiful waterfall hike near Mount St. Helens. It was raining when I left, it continued to rain for an hour, and then I got lost and frustrated and decided to head back and do one of the favorite Gorge standbys.

It continued to rain. And rain, and rain.

So I ultimately skipped the hike, came home and went back to bed. Around 1pm (!) I finally got up. Got a really disappointing lunch at a joint the locals love, watched The Fountainhead (awfully disappointing, even worse than the Atlas Shrugged trailers make that one out to be) and did some depressing digital cleansing.

So much for Sunday Funday.

But! After 47 days* I am enjoying this...

... and covering up the gray, and then settling in for a Veronica Mars marathon to brush up on witty comebacks for the coming week. There may also be a pedicure and possibly some aforementioned Ben & Jerry's in the cards as well.

Given the four hour nap, I suspect I needed this zero day. Really hoping the raw local honey is working its magic against allergies this year but I suspect I'm in for another killer season. I'm far less mentally prepared for a full work week than in previous nature-weekend-filled weeks, and I think I might really need that perspective tomorrow, but my horoscope yesterday said I should slow down. Sometimes I think it knows me better than I know myself. And so here I sit, listening.

At least if this week sucks, I can go to happy hour!

________________
* A whole 47 days and no alcohol. Well, I failed once - but it was for a good cause and I confessed my sin. Not that this is a feat or a big deal, it's not like that. But while I haven't "figured it all out," I'm getting there, and it sure did get me out of a lot of mandatory fun. Thanks, Jesus!

Good thing I'm training for a half marathon.

"Like" CREDO on Facebook before April 30 and they will plant a tree in your honor.

That's nice and all, yay trees, but more importantly - members also get free pints of Ben & Jerry's. The new Peanut Brittle flavor? FAB. Throw some of your own peanut butter in for good measure? AH. MAY. ZING. (Holy cow, there are six pages of flavors! Who knew?!)

I hear you, Universe.

A month ago I was scheduled to go kayaking on the coast, but the trip was canceled because of the wind. It was also really rainy that day (and a 1.5 hour drive one-way) and I hadn't really been looking forward to it for those reasons despite valiant efforts to psych myself up for it.

I rescheduled at that time for a trip tomorrow. Every day this past week I considered rescheduling again - it's finally spring here, the wildflowers are coming out in waves, and my last three Sunday hikes have been really good mental prep for the long work weeks ahead. But I didn't, and I've been trying to psych myself up for it all day.

Just got an email from the guide saying he broke his foot and the trip was canceled tomorrow.

Really sorry about his foot, but also really glad I bought a new hiking book when I went to the Audubon Society the other night...

Gratitude.

Last night I had the fortune of hearing Noah Strycker speak about his 3-month experience researching Adelie penguins in the Antarctic. He wrote a book about it, and from what I've heard from him and read of it so far I highly recommend it. He's a great storyteller, and between the tales and the pictures I had a perma-grin for about 3 hours afterward.

He was only 22 when he did this excursion. When I was 22, I did my own excursion cross-country to the Bay Area, but I had no real goals (other than getting as far from the east coast without leaving the continental US) or skills or hobbies. Still don't, technically speaking. I look around at my coworkers 8-10 years younger than me and marvel at their expertise in certain subjects, at their career drive, at their ability to seemingly know what they want to do with their lives. On the other end of the spectrum, other friends had kids by the time they were 22 - an excursion of a whole other variety.

But do not despair, dear reader! This is not a "woe is me, what have I done with my life" post - quite the contrary, actually. I've done a hell of a lot with my life! I've seen states and countries most people have not. I've sustained employment when I wanted to, built some reasonably generic and widely transferable skills, and survived just fine without a job, too. I've got a ziplock bag stuffed so full of concert tickets that it's getting hard to close. I've managed to hold on to everyone who is dear to me, and cut loose everyone who is not. I've attempted (and failed) to learn guitar, pottery, acting, Spanish - but I had a whole lot of fun trying. I've loved and lost and I'm a better person for each of those experiences. I. Jumped. Out. Of. A. Plane.

I'm starting to think that 36 is the new 30. When I entered my third decade, everyone talked about how great it would be - I'd be comfortable with myself, I'd know what I wanted, I'd know how to make "it" happen, blah blah blah. It took me a bit longer than my friends, I guess, but I think I'm here. And I think it shows in how others see me, too.

And I'm loving every minute of it.

File under: damn, I'm old.

My attempt at local shopping was thwarted by Record Store Day. I wanted to check out used DVDs at Music Millennium (thank you, Chinook Book 20% off coupon) but between special release vinyls in honor of today and a possibly unrelated Deftones signing, it was a zoo. I bought The Naked and Famous CD (so technically, I did shop local), got the hell out of there and saved my coupon for another day.

But in keeping with today's (this month's?) music theme, I've been streaming Coachella all day. I was trying to find out the history of this festival and ran across this explanation: "Christians have retreats, we have Coachella. A lot less God and a lot more awesome."

Damn skippy. As far as I can tell, it's just a music and arts festival. But it's got worldwide draw. So far today I've watched Interpol, Mumford & Sons, The Swell Season and this little band called Two Door Cinema Club (who I now love), and all the bands seem to be in awe that they are playing this festival. It's been refreshing. Even Cage the Elephant was charming in their own wicked restless way.

You know what's amazing? Seeing these bands live, for free, without having to deal with that heat and fifty billion annoying people. The biggest problem I face is not wondering when/where I'm going to pee, or how to see over that six foot tall guy right in front of me, or what I'm missing on the other stages, or if my eardrums will ever forgive me. My biggest problem, sitting here in my pj's eating Ben & Jerry's, is how much of Arcade Fire do I watch before I switch over to Flogging Molly?

God bless the Internet.

Protein, exhibits A and B.

Last night's dinner: New Seasons curry chicken sausage hot off a friend's grill, salad.

Tonight's dinner: peanut butter out of the jar, milk.

And the winner is...

Eight miles round trip... one photo.

Really done with the rain, Portland. Really. Done.

Jen(n) shrugged.

I know I complained about it, but after seeing this I'm really glad I read the book.

Nobody said accountability was interesting.

BOGO socks at Next Adventure... (And also a replacement platypus for the hike tomorrow.) They have a pretty respectable online store, so if you're in need of any outdoor supplies you might consider them before shopping online at REI.

Up later - 20% off dinner with friends at Bamboo Sushi, the "first certified, sustainable sushi restaurant in the world."

I heart Portland. And the Chinook Book.

Belated Friday five.

Spring(ish) is here, and I'm finally feeling the music vibe again. Here are five bands including three I saw last night and two I will see Monday night, and why I liked/like them, in no particular order:

• Brainstorm - how in the world two people can make such noise - such coordinated, fun, funky, noise - is beyond me. Not something I would normally listen to, and not something I would probably listen to unless it was live, but I'm glad they were part of the show.
• And And And - definitely not a band I would pay money to see, but the show itself was a hot mess I wouldn't be sad to witness again. Something about... they made a tape, but the people who made their tape wouldn't give it to them so they had nothing to sell, which there was a synonym for ("I think it's 'bullshit'!"), which sent the lead singer into a "blackout rage" (his words, not mine). Many other amazing lines were uttered between mediocre indie pop songs, much like the Modest Mouse show except that I actually liked their songs. Anyway, AAA were rated top emerging Portland band by... someone. I can't say that I get it.
• Typhoon - these folks make beautiful indie chamber music (NPR's words, not mine) that makes me really, really happy. Normally I would say that eleven people in a band is borderline ridiculous, but in this case it really works. I am embarrassed to admit how many times I have watched this video.
• The Lonely Forest - I have already blah blah blah'ed about these guys. Still waiting for the new album to grow on me, which may happen Monday night, but for now I'll stick with what works.
  
• The Joy Formidable - I haven't seen them yet but sound clips indicate influences from Blondie and the Yeah Yeah Yeahs. That can't be a bad thing.
  

Unrelated but not really, I've developed a new fondness for bands with more than one drum set. Please pray for my eardrums and/or contribute to my hearing aid fund.

Perspective.

Gratitude: having clothes to wear, having the ability (and quarters, and free water) to wash my clothes.

AWESOME: both washers in the laundry room free on a Sunday afternoon.

I put a bird on it.

Sock Dreams, SE Portland. Buy local!

Friday five.

The abridged version of this, in no particular order:

• Day 06 – Buffalo Soldier always reminds me of driving through Yellowstone on my first cross-country road trip. We trailed a group of Harleys for what felt like forever, listening to Bob Marley and desperately hoping they would turn off so we could pass. Just as we reached a breaking point of frustration we turned a curve and saw a bunch of buffalo and heard the first notes of this song. (Yes, I am aware that the song has nothing to do with actual buffalo.)
  
• Day 07 – I will never, ever forget watching Pearl Jam perform Indifference the night it was announced that Kurt Cobain had killed himself. (And holy shit, thanks to the magic of YouTube, I don't have to - this is from THAT VERY show. I distinctly remember the candles and the crowd. Wait... they had {really crappy} video cameras in 1994?)
  
• Day 20 – Nine Inch Nails is always good when I'm angry. Or frustrated, or bored, or irritated. This song really came in handy the other day at work. I hope his Oscar win doesn't preclude me from seeing him live someday.
  
• Day 24 – This is going to sound completely cheesy (and counter intuitive given the other songs I've mentioned), but I would love to have Ripple played at my funeral. I am not a die hard Dead fan or anything, but I really love this simple, peaceful song. (Check out the first comment in that clip - I'm not the only one!) Runner up would be Inaudible Melodies - also rather cheesy, but say what you want about Jack, I kinda like him. Someday I will do a Friday five of "inappropriate songs I want them to play at my funeral." There's a long list. It starts with "Dead" by They Might Be Giants.
  
• Day 29 – My mom turned me on to Simon & Garfunkel at a very early age. I knew all the words to Cecilia by the time I was four. Not a very appropriate song for a four year old to know all the words to... but these guys aren't much older, and we all seem to have turned out okay.
  

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"

It's a few months away, but I realized it this morning.

"ten" turns twenty
that statement truly dates me
think how ed must feel

And the Fandango gift certificate goes to...

eighteen correct votes?
superhuman oscar strength
(i think she rigged it)

All caught up.

woefully behind
and not feeling creative
damn these stupid goals
(thursday's sentiment)

i have tried and tried
i just don't get thirty rock
what am i missing?
(friday, streaming netflix at the gym)

haircut, shopping and
loch lomond release party
saturday = awesome

Dreaming of a white Thursday.

of all the nicknames
snowtorious b.i.g.
gotta be my fave

So far.

joe walsh: a wise man
why the hell do i complain?
life's been good to me

Make-up assignments.

the big sunday plans
were usurped by nap monster
maybe tomorrow

tired of winter
gray rainy muddy and cold
constantly cranky

Decemberists: 6, Barenaked Ladies: 5.

had beer dumped on me
and sat behind the mayor
all in all, good show

I received no royalties for this post.

organic quinoa
greatest invention ever
tj's sells the red

I don't usually buy this horoscope crap (esp when Google delivers it) but... woah.

"Today's Full Moon is opposite the Sun and Neptune in your sign, reminding you of the contrast between the concrete things you must do and the unfulfilled dreams that lure you off the beaten path. Don't worry too much if you are letting others down because their expectations are likely very unrealistic now. Listening to what they want is a good idea, but this doesn't mean you must immediately fix whatever is broken."

File under: damn, I'm old.

after four days straight
of staying up past midnight
i am done at nine

But the ones about the weather are too easy.

snowing this morning
sunshine in the afternoon
now just bloody cold

I always forget how much I saw.

thursday marks a year
i went south for the winter
northern summer next

She's getting awfully annoying, by the way.

sick day haiku fail
but almost caught up on bones
so i guess there's that

File under: what was that?

all for young talent
but definitely don't get
the beiber fever

And the Oscar hits keep coming.

i did not expect
that I would enjoy true grit
as much as I did

and blue valentine:
tragically brilliant sleeper
biutiful next

I really am on the "50 years to Alaska" plan, but that might be OK.

serendipity
~ not the bad john cusack film ~
is alive and well

And in negative space we find a positive.

i need a haiku
all of today's ideas
left me with nothing

At least now I know what I'm doing Sunday night.

"Ehrlich and Neil Portnow, president of the National Academy of Recording Arts and Sciences, have been working to secure Dylan’s booking for months."

Because he has better things to do? Please. All due respect to (possibly) the world's greatest folk singer, but if his mumbling unenthusiastic incoherent performance on tour last year is any indication, up-and-comers (and my current personal faves) The Avett Brothers and Mumford & Sons are going to completely outshine him. And if he's as wise as we think he is, he knows this - hence the hesitation to accept the booking.

I (possibly) concede that these two bands would not exist, or (more possibly) would not exist as they do today, without the pioneer groundbreaking work of Mr. Zimmerman. Among many others. This does not mean that he should accompany them onstage. I would hate for people to walk away asking "what the hell was that old guy singing?" instead of "when can I see those amazing bands again, and can it come faster, please?"

Then again, the former would lead to a higher possibility of me scoring tickets to their upcoming shows. The latter would not.

On second thought - give Dylan the stage! The entire stage!

Wednesday three.

Three things that always make me smile, in no particular order:

• Harry v Animal
• anything by Chris Leavins
• Plywerk newsletters
  

So is my "get out of hell free" card. Consider ye warned.

custom "get out of
congeniality, free"
card is still valid

I want to work in THAT office.

where peanut butter
is a little jar of yum
and not cost-sharing

Possible TMI that I will regret someday.

the "work" and the "life"
not sure how to deal with "it"
god bless therapy

(alternate ending: thank god for netflix)

Miles Standish proud. (Not quite Wednesday three.)

Stalking YouTube again... this time for REM covers:

• Begin the Begin - The Decemberists feat. Peter Buck
  
• Hairshirt - Glen Hansard
• Orange Crush - Editors and We Are Scientists
  

The first two are wonderful. The latter is by two bands I'm supposed to like but just can't get into. This certainly helps their case.

Random bonus cover: Michael Stipe and Billy Bragg doing their version of Tom's Diner. A very dear old friend had purchased a Tom's Diner cover album (wow, 20 years ago... am I THAT old?!) and I snagged a copy of this version via cassette tape (OK, yes I am that old). Anyway, I want to marry whoever got this on video because it makes me laugh every time I hear it.

And the commercials suck this year!

penguins lost to caps
football not looking too good
not your day, pittsburg

Best paired with The King's Speech on a rainy Saturday.

feeling insecure?
take yourself to see black swan
perspective is good

Friday five.

Five reasons YouTube is awesome, in no particular order:

• Thriller by (pre-Zooey fat sad) Ben Gibbard
• Such Great Heights by (think what you will but damn, the man can play piano) Ben Folds
• Devil Inside by (lalala Scientologist lalala I can't hear you lalala) Beck
• Jolene by The (officially now-defunct, hope you got the nine thousand memos) White Stripes
  
• My favorite Smiths song* by my favorite Portland-based musician

_______________
* I fell in love with this song in 10th grade. I had no idea what it meant. Now I do, but I still love the song.

How they love the sporting life.

scrappy but sloppy
winterhawks are no penguins
but the seats are cheap

really, edmonton...
your team is the "oil kings"
you deserved to lose

hip hop, depeche mode
seem awfully unfitting
with portland hockey

________________
I can't believe I missed this show.

Inspired by a friend's Facebook status.

just because I can
doesn't really mean I should
nor mean that I will

Really hope you're right, Punxsutawney Phil.

squinting in the sun
and digging hands in pockets
i endure winter

Wednesday three.

• Who gave Band of Horses some happy pills and a new name? Liking this a lot.
• When I die, I want to be reincarnated as Mark Morford.
• Yes, Virginia, there's an app for that.
  

Perspective (that's what he said).

"still have all your hair
and your original hips?
then you are not old."