What do I miss?
December 12, 2009
Most people say some people-related thing, which is not to discount those who are no longer with us. And I miss my childhood and the associated innocence of youth as much as anyone. But what I really miss is spares. Bowling spares.
Just a couple of years ago I would have said that I’d be happy if I could pick up one more spare per game. But I’m getting greedy. I should pick up TWO more spares per game. Because I usually leave three. I’d be okay with one open in a game. I coast along on my ability to throw strikes a lot of the time. I’ve had a 267 with three opens because the rest were strikes. Maybe it was two opens. I don’t remember. What I do remember is that it was the night of the great Super Slide Controversy. Super Slide is powder that makes things, such as the sole of your bowling shoe, more slippery, which helps you slide at the fowl line and have better form. A gal was subbing for our team who I had no previous opinion about. But she was not bowling as well as she should have been, and so she decided to blame her lack of productivity on the fact that I was dabbing, then blotting, a little bit of Super Slide on my shoe. She was convinced that the residue I was supposedly leaving behind was screwing her up on the approach. We don’t even walk the same line on the approach. Unless it’s a big split, there really is no reason for me to miss a spare pickup. It’s only due to my own lack of concentration. If I picked up just one more spare per game I’d raise my average 10 pins. Everyone wants a better average. Oh, and one time I missed a 300 by one pin.7 lines of togetherness (vs. 6 degrees of separation)
December 10, 2009
So far, my life has five tangents, mathematically speaking with regard to the straight line between two points. I consider there to be two more lines of possibility for me, which makes seven in total. Two more lines of possibility and three more possible stations, one of which is not different than my current station (wild is the wind, TVC15 uh oh). I could do nothing and stay in MInneapolis which would add nothing to the total. Nobody doesn’t know that I want to move to London.
Not as many people know that I’d also be happy moving to San Francisco/Silicon Valley. I don’t mean for it to be a secret, I just don’t talk about it nearly as much. It would certainly be easier—it’s in the same country, after all. My rabbit and cats could ride in my car with me. But London is my overwhelming first choice. One of my best friends from Minneapolis moved to Silicon Valley three years ago. Since then, I became twitterrific and acquired many of his new California friends because they’re just friendly that way, and I love it. These are the folks that I have previously referred to as my first-generation of online friends. A lot of the time I feel very isolated geographically. Well, emotionally, too, but we’ll save that for another time. Two of the California people (three, counting their offspring who I don’t mean to discount, but she’s just so much younger, yet very mature for her early teen age) have ended up here. I don’t get the impression that this was their first choice, but sometimes you’ve gotta do what you’ve gotta do. My point is, they probably understand about feeling like you’re not in your final place overall. The seven lines business comes in this way: after my parents have been here for a few Christmas days, my new London friend is laying over at my airport at about the same time that my friend who moved to California is arriving from his Christmas weekend with his family in Wisconsin. Two other Californians are also coming here to visit. I’ve lost my train of thought. For a few hours, later this month Minneapolis will be the center of the universe, the place where all line segments intersect. It will be fun. [Ironically (and this time I do use ironically as opposed to coincidentally, which is most often more appropriate), a friend from here is from the same town I was born in–five lines separated.]Big deal, it snowed today
December 9, 2009
Today in Minnesota, we had our first consequential snowfall. It wasn’t significant in terms of inches (it looks like it was about one inch), but it certainly wrought havoc. I know it snows in Alaska in the summer. I know California is having their own unusually chilly weather. I know the UK is still trying to figure out how to build an ark. And apparently the American Southwest had snow yesterday and today and didn’t know what to do with it. (Did I forget anyone?) A few snowflakes shouldn’t faze us hardy Minnesotans. Nevertheless, every winter there is a period of adjustment. Heck, even a rain shower in the summer or a curve in the road throws traffic into chaos. It wouldn’t be half as bad if we were more courteous to each other on the road.
I was supposed to write about Minnesota license plates or, if I were writing a real entry for yesterday rather than relying on my bowling scores, about food that’s all the same color. Well, the snow made everything outside look the same color and I’ve heard that because of the snow, traffic was a mess which is related to license plates in that vehicles are supposed to have them.
I am glad that I don’t have to drive-commute to work. I benefit from readily available inner city public transportation and living less than two miles from where I work downtown. I can’t remember the last time I used my car to get to work. On the rare occasions when I do, it’s because I will be time-pinched to get somewhere right after work that is in the opposite direction of home. It would take me about 30 minutes or so to get home, get my car, and backtrack through downtown.
In the warmer weather I bicycle to work. It only takes 10 minutes and that’s a short enough length of time that I don’t get overheated (as a woman over 40, that’s an important consideration!). When it’s cooler, I strongly prefer to walk. It’s so much less stressful than dodging idiot, blinders-on car drivers with my bike. The walk takes about 30 minutes, which is a perfect length of time to decompress after the work day and to get physical health benefits. I call it utility recreation. I guess as a walker, I have a little adjustment period, too. Experience on the bike and on foot tells me that when the temperature is below 25°F, I need longjohns, so I always accomplish that part of the triquation. Last winter, I acquired my first ever sleeping-bag coat. Some of you know what that means. You know who you are. Today, I should have chosen the sleeping-bag coat over my merely big coat. My torso is always plenty warm even in the subbest of freezing temperatures, but the fronts of my thighs eventually get cold. Even 15 minutes (half the walk) is unpleasant enough. The sleeping bag goes down to mid-calf and takes care of that. But this weren’t nuthin’ today. Just talked to my parents in central Wisconsin and they’ve had a preemptive state of emergency declared for their possible foot of snow in the next 24 hours. They’re also 10°F warmer. I guess we Minnesotans got off lucky.Laundry vs. dishes
December 7, 2009
In my household there is no competition. I keep the dishes done because I don’t want to give the cats (either these two or my previous two) any reason to think that they need to jump on the kitchen counter. Like all good cats, I’m sure they must when I’m not looking.
Laundry, on the other hand, is the bane of my household chore existence. I HATE LAUNDRY. I hate the doing of it, I hate the putting away of it. That’s why I have oodles of socks and underwear—and really, clothes in general; that way I don’t have to do laundry more than once monthly. Since I have to do laundry at all, I am pleased that I can at least accomplish the task inside my own unit. Shortly after I moved in, I bought used (for $50) a portable washer and dryer from a former neighbor who sold his place. It was an excellent investment. I hook the washer up to the kitchen sink, and I have what still seems like a jury-rigged arrangement for venting the dryer inside. But I purpose-bought the “vent” at Home Depot, so it must be okay. It has been for four years, anyway. Although having the machines in my home mitigates some of the distress of the chore, it doesn’t alter the fact that it must still be put away. That’s why clean shirts are draped over the back of a futon chair just waiting for their next wearing (perfect place for that), and for at least half a year, socks and underwear have been plucked from a laundry basket that makes its current home atop the dryer. They may not be put away, but at least they’re clean. I offer no more than that.What do you love the feel of?
December 3, 2009
Robbin Rabbit does not love the feel of being picked up, and he is merely polite about it until I release him. I made him endure this holding so that I could mimic the photo another gal took of her and her Rex rabbit. Rex rabbits’ fur feels like velvet.
Robbin is the Satin breed. That’s an apt description. He has an entirely different kind of fine, soft fur—silky smooth with a satiny sheen. And there is no softer fur than the fur at the nape of the neck of any rabbit. My cat Dasie’s white fur feels very fine and soft compared to her black fur. My cat CJ also has very soft, longish black fur which is even finer and softer than Dasie’s white fur. I love how it feels in the morning when I’m half awake and still cozy in bed under my electric blanket, just drifting in and out. That is, unless I have to go to the bathroom. Then I feel anxious and unable to relax until I’ve gotten up. Nothing beats standing under the hot shower. In the summer, it feels really good to depart from the overactive air conditioning in my office to go outside and turn my face to the sun. If the temperature is 75° or less, I even like just sitting in the sun for half an hour. I love the feel of a good wine buzz. Getting loopy on wine is completely different than getting loopy on beer, which is also pleasant, but not in the same way. When I go to bed at night, I always hope that CJ will come with me. If I offer her my arm and get positioned just right, she licks my wrist with her rough cat tongue and the feel of it puts me right to sleep. It works if it’s my wrist or hand; my forearm is too ticklish. I also love the feel of a cat purring when I’m holding her close. Dasie is the more violent purrer, so she’s a little more enjoyable. Those are all physical things. Then I got to thinking that there are a number of things that feel good on an emotional level. I realized that as I finished my Curves workout tonight. No matter how tired I am or what kind of fowl mood I might be in, I just feel happy for a good 90 minutes afterward. Let’s hear it for endorphins. I feel good about myself when I get up the hour earlier on work mornings that I really should do all the time. I get proverbial and literal warm fuzzies when I commune with my sweeties. Both cats like to be held, and even Robbin, if I leave his feet on the floor, will let me smother him in a hug. I’ll probably think of ten more things as soon as I post this, but these are the things that immediately come to mind. And keeping up with this blog makes me feel a sense of accomplishment, however trivial in the bigger scheme.Crossing a line
November 28, 2009
My crappy little Hyundai was the first brand new car I’ve ever owned. But even when I first got it, I never felt the need to protect it by taking up two parking spaces. People who do that make me chuckle. In the lot outside the office kitchen window, I frequently see a little sporty convertible that parks all crooked in the corner spot. One day when I was down there anyway I got curious, so I checked out the car. It was only a Saturn. It would make more sense to me if it had been a Jaguar or a BMW or something fancy like that, but it wasn’t. It was just a Saturn. I know people get all emotional about their cars and get MY BMR vanity plates and give them names and such. I am not one of those people.
Maybe if I had a ’67 Mustang, I’d feel differently.What???s your musical guilty pleasure?
November 27, 2009
What artist are you ashamed to admit that you like? What gets your toes tapping that shouldn’t? What sends you into an irrational revery? For me, it’s the Russian group ???????? (t.A.T.u. for their English-language releases).
I like what I like and I’m not embarrassed to admit it. There is so much out there and you never know what’s going to catch your fancy. ???????? is a band that most people would probably think unlikely that I’d enjoy. But I do! I like them better when they sing in Russian, but I always find their English lyric versions to be interesting and wonder how the literal meanings compare between the English and the Russian.
I learned of ???????? one day at work while I was researching school uniforms for the children’s book series I was working on. I came across their video for ?? ?????????? ?? ?????? / All The Things She Said (Russian version / English version). The music instantly hooked me. I watched a few more videos and found those to be oddly interesting, too, with the sexual and violent themes that seem to be ????????’s trademark.
I bought both the Russian and English versions of their debut album (200 ???? ?????????????????? / 200 km/h in the Wrong Lane). There’s a killer cover of the Smith’s “How Soon Is Now” on the English version.
English wannabe
November 25, 2009
Does loving beer, cheese, and solid breakfasts qualify me?
Shout out to TweakToday
November 23, 2009
How do I come up with the scintillating topics for my blog, you may wonder. It’s easy. Whatever the mission is on TweakToday.com, that’s what I write about. The cat’s out of the bag. That’s cheating, some of you may think. It’s true that I don’t invent my own topics, and that might seem easy. On the other hand, I don’t invent my own topics and have to find some way to make the TweakToday mission into a little story about me. Not always so easy. But it always makes me think, and it has been a way to get me back into writing. Who doesn’t want to be a writer?
I had been keeping up with writing every day very well, until my crazy work schedule caught up with me last week. I had to put my health before my blog and skip a couple of nights, or risk slumping into unconsciousness at my desk only to wake up with lifelong back problems. For those of you who are already going through withdrawal after my three-day absence, I’ll give you a quick little fix.
Nov. 19: Take a picture of your bedroom
My bedroom is a mess. I spend the least time there—well, the least waking time—so it is a repository for stuff I never unpacked four years ago and clothing that never made it into a drawer or a closet. There are three large, miscellaneous items hung on the walls. None of it goes with anything else.
Nov. 20: Take something apart
I was looking forward to writing on this subject, actually, because I planned to take an in-depth look at all the things that are wrong with my personality. But, oh well, that story will have to go untold for now. The photo for this day was of the pieces of my little coffee maker at the office. I have my own pot because in the 14 years that I’ve worked there, I remain the only person who drinks decaffeinated coffee. Not only that, but I drink decaf in the morning when I get there and regular in the afternoon some time after lunch. That’s when I find the pick-me-up more useful. In the morning I have presumably just had a good night’s sleep and shouldn’t be tired. It makes sense to me.
Nov. 21: Spell a word with nearby objects
SOCKS. Why were my socks nearby so that I could spell socks with them? Because I hate doing laundry. And the only thing I hate more than laundry (in the context of household chores) is folding laundry. So the socks and underwear usually get used from the laundry basket that never made it off the top of my dryer. My washer and dryer are in the middle of my place because they are portable. I roll my washer up to the kitchen sink and attach it temporarily to that faucet. The only thing that makes doing laundry more tolerable is that I no longer have to leave my apartment to do it and go through the five doors to get to the laundry room. Well, maybe technically three doors, as two of them are double.
Nov. 22: Take a picture of the main screen of your fave website
And that brings us to today. TweakToday is currently my favorite because I get to be creative photographically (usually), and because it provides this inspiration, which I hope will in some way be useful down the road. The screen shot is the page that was the topic of my first entry back on November 1.
Bowl or die trying
November 17, 2009
I was going to extoll the delights of bowling, but given my scores tonight, I cannot in all good conscience do so, so this is a mercifully short post for a change. It was definitely a die-trying night. There’s always next week.
This is my Storm Ace. I don’t use it much anymore, but it was the easiest to get at when I wanted to take the picture of my marker knuckle tattoo. It’s my fourth ball, the odd ball out of my three-ball bowling bag. Maybe it would have worked for me tonight. Storm scents their balls—the Ace smells like wintergreen.
Kelly’s Unnecessary Blog 