Saturday, February 19

Oh My Goodness, Becky

[Oh My Goodness, Becky]

Baby Got Bible. Yeah, they went there.

[Thanks to the lovely Sheri.]

Sooty and Grey

[Sooty and Grey]

The city looks so tired toward the end of the winter. Everything looks sooty and grey. The signs are all wrong: Howl at the m, Red Lob, Toy ta, R DHEA Piano Bar, Barne li's Pasta Bowl.

I'm feeling grey and sooty as well. Not that I'm actually grey —of all the product-correctable concerns I have, I thankfully don't have to deal with that one— I just feel end-of-winter dingy. And, I think, maybe my signs are off too, because people just don't seem to get what I think I'm projecting: kindness is misinterpreted as snarkiness, sarcasm is taken too seriously, general hurry is seen as a personal affront.

Hopefully, my signs will take less time to correct than those of the aforementioned venues.

Monday, February 14

It's V-Day Too

[It's V-Day Too]

One of the Big Thoughts I've been having recently is that I should be more involved. It's not much of an involvement to wear my V-Day tank top, but it would have been some effort. Not that I could have worn it to the office anyway: I'm showing enough cleavage as it is and I'm pretty sure that my breasts in a tank top would be such an affront to the dress code arbiters that I'd get my butt kicked out.


Maybe next year.

Happy Valentine's Day

[Happy Valentine's Day]

This Valentine's Week I intend to follow Rob Brezsny's Advice and be mindful of this quote from Delmore Schwartz:
Love is the most difficult and dangerous form of courage.
Courage is the most desperate, admirable, and noble kind of love.
I also intend to be mindful of its implied opposite: hate is weakness.

Sunday, February 13



I had a rather domestic weekend, which is something considering how domestically impaired I tend to be. Now, I can cook and bake, and I have fun in the kitchen rather regularly, but I have issues with the rest of it: the cleaning part. I've never been good at it, even as a child I was terribly messy.

The cleaning part sometimes infringes upon the cooking and baking part, when you have no place to cook and can locate neither the recipes nor the spices, it becomes a chore to make anything. But, I persevered: I made the Sour Cream Banana Bread and the Multi-Bean Chili con Carne even though I could find neither recipe. I tweaked a recipe I found online for the Banana Bread and I just winged it with the Chili. The spices are a little off, there might be too much cumin and not enough heat, but it's still pretty good.

I also spent a considerable amount of time dusting and straightening, but it seems that what I largely did was move the mess around. I think it's time to purge.

For a while, every time I had too much stuff, I got more space. This went on until about 5 years ago when I downsized from a 3,300 square foot apartment to a 750 square foot apartment . . . . with a roommate. I really purged then. 17 dumpsters worth of purging. But, since then, I've not purged much at all. When I moved, I moved all the crap with me. I have Daytimer supplies that I'll never use, mismatched undergarments that don't get worn, CDs I rarely listen to, hundreds of pens I don't use, clothing that's radically out of style, baskets with nothing in them that are collecting dust atop my kitchen cabinets, cards for stores and clubs that I don't intend to frequent, stuffed animals in a bin in the back of a closet, paint that will likely never get put on a wall.

The premise under which I intend to proceed is that I shall be less domestically impaired if I have less stuff. We'll see.