So I was still worrying about the stupid stop work order on my windows yesterday when the company that did the install called me. It turns out the dumb ass city inspector had the WRONG ADDRESS. It's a good thing he's a city inspector since he can't even find the right fucking street.
The good news is there's no problem with my windows. They passed the city inspection today.
Hopefully this will mark a turning point in the oddly bad string of luck I've had this week.
Friday, May 7, 2010
Thursday, May 6, 2010
long loca story
Today the window guys showed up at 7 am to try to finish putting all of my windows in before I had to leave at 1245 to catch my shuttle.
Things were cranking along nicely, and I had gotten out of my funk and was working on something, when a cranky contractor came by and started yelling at my window installers for putting in vinyl windows.
A word on my windows. I bought the best window on the market. Vinyl, I know, has a shitty sound to it, but they actually look just like my neighbors' windows because there is so much wood around them (they replaced the wooden frame things and you can barely see any of the whatever that border thing is around the windows). And from an environmental perspective, they are better than wood windows. I should also note that I only found one contractor that could build from wood the windows for my house. He said it would take 6 weeks, and the front window priced in at $5,000. Yikes.
About a half hour later, an inspector showed up with a stop work order (still taped to my front window) and said they hadn't pulled a permit. I double checked with the office, who double checked with the city, who said that no permit was needed. My installer said in the 17 years he's been doing this he's never had that happen. Also, the city inspector gave a stop work order but told them to keep installing the windows.
I read the stop work order. It said I could get a $999 fine and 30 days in jail. Great.
My shuttle was 1/2 hour late picking me up at the airport. Then I got the security full monty because I booked a ticket to the UAE less than 24 hours before flying. Ech.
When it seemed things were finally going to be okay, even though I had to spend the entire two hour flight from Denver to Chicago sitting next to two obnoxious 10 year old girls, I started to relax.
But then, when we landed, our gate wasn't open so we had to sit on the runway for 10 minutes. The girls next to me kept standing up and the stewardess was screaming at them to put their seat belts on. We got to the gate but the jet way wouldn't extend, so we were stuck on the plane for another 20 minutes waiting for them to fix it.
Tick tock, tick tock.
As we waited I heard a woman behind me saying she was going to Dhabi. I told her I was too, and she asked me to run ahead (we only had an hour til our flight took off at this point) and tell them she was coming (she's a slow walker).
I had to take a train to the international terminal and it took forever for the train to come. Then I had to run (and I did run) to the check in desk because I didn't have a ticket (since I booked my flight less than 24 hours before take off I couldn't check in online). They were announcing the boarding as I was running to the desk.
They couldn't hold the plane, and they couldn't get our luggage off the plane (mine and the woman I met on the flight, Espie). So they booked Espie and I on tomorrow's 830 PM flight (total suck, get in at 8 pm, have to be at a meeting the next morning at 7 am). Then Espie and I were given vouchers for a hotel. We shuffled off, sans luggage, to find the free shuttle to the hotel.
We just got back from dinner, which was a nice experience. Dr. Espie (she's a phd!) and I had a lot of things in common. She is of Mexican origin and she is going to invite me to a dinner that she throws for her female emirati students and she's going to make real corn tortillas from scratch. She said she wants to read my book when it's done.
Her dad left her mom when she was young and her mom raised 6 girls by herself working even though she didn't speak english. And Espie ended up with a phd from Berkeley. She told me this story at dinner about how she was in a workshop and one of the guys said "we're all here because we've had such privileged educations". That made Dr. Espie cry because she was always put in vocational classes because people thought that because she was the child of an immigrant from mexico she must be stupid and they lived in a pretty shit part of LA. She never finished high school but then had an opportunity to go to college and then she ended up in fucking Berkeley, which, not to be biased, is one of the best universities in the world. Very cool.
I told Dr. Espie that I found her inspiring, and she laughed. She said she found it inspiring that I was writing a book about my injury and subsequent athletic adventures. Then she said "we have a word for people like you in our culture - loca".
If I'm crazy, it's because of my travel schedule, and life in general. And people wonder why I drink.
Things were cranking along nicely, and I had gotten out of my funk and was working on something, when a cranky contractor came by and started yelling at my window installers for putting in vinyl windows.
A word on my windows. I bought the best window on the market. Vinyl, I know, has a shitty sound to it, but they actually look just like my neighbors' windows because there is so much wood around them (they replaced the wooden frame things and you can barely see any of the whatever that border thing is around the windows). And from an environmental perspective, they are better than wood windows. I should also note that I only found one contractor that could build from wood the windows for my house. He said it would take 6 weeks, and the front window priced in at $5,000. Yikes.
About a half hour later, an inspector showed up with a stop work order (still taped to my front window) and said they hadn't pulled a permit. I double checked with the office, who double checked with the city, who said that no permit was needed. My installer said in the 17 years he's been doing this he's never had that happen. Also, the city inspector gave a stop work order but told them to keep installing the windows.
I read the stop work order. It said I could get a $999 fine and 30 days in jail. Great.
My shuttle was 1/2 hour late picking me up at the airport. Then I got the security full monty because I booked a ticket to the UAE less than 24 hours before flying. Ech.
When it seemed things were finally going to be okay, even though I had to spend the entire two hour flight from Denver to Chicago sitting next to two obnoxious 10 year old girls, I started to relax.
But then, when we landed, our gate wasn't open so we had to sit on the runway for 10 minutes. The girls next to me kept standing up and the stewardess was screaming at them to put their seat belts on. We got to the gate but the jet way wouldn't extend, so we were stuck on the plane for another 20 minutes waiting for them to fix it.
Tick tock, tick tock.
As we waited I heard a woman behind me saying she was going to Dhabi. I told her I was too, and she asked me to run ahead (we only had an hour til our flight took off at this point) and tell them she was coming (she's a slow walker).
I had to take a train to the international terminal and it took forever for the train to come. Then I had to run (and I did run) to the check in desk because I didn't have a ticket (since I booked my flight less than 24 hours before take off I couldn't check in online). They were announcing the boarding as I was running to the desk.
They couldn't hold the plane, and they couldn't get our luggage off the plane (mine and the woman I met on the flight, Espie). So they booked Espie and I on tomorrow's 830 PM flight (total suck, get in at 8 pm, have to be at a meeting the next morning at 7 am). Then Espie and I were given vouchers for a hotel. We shuffled off, sans luggage, to find the free shuttle to the hotel.
We just got back from dinner, which was a nice experience. Dr. Espie (she's a phd!) and I had a lot of things in common. She is of Mexican origin and she is going to invite me to a dinner that she throws for her female emirati students and she's going to make real corn tortillas from scratch. She said she wants to read my book when it's done.
Her dad left her mom when she was young and her mom raised 6 girls by herself working even though she didn't speak english. And Espie ended up with a phd from Berkeley. She told me this story at dinner about how she was in a workshop and one of the guys said "we're all here because we've had such privileged educations". That made Dr. Espie cry because she was always put in vocational classes because people thought that because she was the child of an immigrant from mexico she must be stupid and they lived in a pretty shit part of LA. She never finished high school but then had an opportunity to go to college and then she ended up in fucking Berkeley, which, not to be biased, is one of the best universities in the world. Very cool.
I told Dr. Espie that I found her inspiring, and she laughed. She said she found it inspiring that I was writing a book about my injury and subsequent athletic adventures. Then she said "we have a word for people like you in our culture - loca".
If I'm crazy, it's because of my travel schedule, and life in general. And people wonder why I drink.
travel days
I really dislike days like today, where I'm traveling in the middle of the day. I have to leave for the airport at 1 PM and I feel like I should run around and get things done before I leave, but at the same time I don't feel like doing anything.
I started trying to weed my yard at 630 this morning (couldn't sleep) but that didn't go very well. I've been doing laundry. Trying to stay out of the way of the guys who are finishing my windows (only 3 more to go and they might even be done before I have to leave for the airport).
I can't check in on my flight and reserve a seat because I booked my ticket less than 24 hours before flying. I'm stressing, even though there's no point, because it's a 14 hour flight and I don't want to be stuck in a horrible seat. Please let there be no screaming babies on the flight.
Maybe I'll go out and try to finish my yard. Or maybe I'll just sit here. Stupid long flights. I wish it was over.
The good news is, I was texting with my friend Ireland this morning and she's booking a flights for us to go to Beirut next weekend.
I started trying to weed my yard at 630 this morning (couldn't sleep) but that didn't go very well. I've been doing laundry. Trying to stay out of the way of the guys who are finishing my windows (only 3 more to go and they might even be done before I have to leave for the airport).
I can't check in on my flight and reserve a seat because I booked my ticket less than 24 hours before flying. I'm stressing, even though there's no point, because it's a 14 hour flight and I don't want to be stuck in a horrible seat. Please let there be no screaming babies on the flight.
Maybe I'll go out and try to finish my yard. Or maybe I'll just sit here. Stupid long flights. I wish it was over.
The good news is, I was texting with my friend Ireland this morning and she's booking a flights for us to go to Beirut next weekend.
Wednesday, May 5, 2010
private life
A friend (or should I say "friend") who lived in my house for a while came by to drop off the key and garage door opener I had given him. He's a guy I've known, or thought I knew, for the past 7 years.
I found out a few weeks ago from a mutual acquaintance that my friend was married but had recently divorced. I was shocked that he had never told me. In fact, one evening while we were having dinner I asked him about a wedding ring he was wearing and he said "it's on the wrong hand". Hm.
So yesterday we chatted for a while, and then I asked him point blank why he had never told me he was married. He said "I did tell you!" and I was like I don't think so dude. I hate it when men do that shit, like I can't remember shit. Then he said "I like to keep my personal life private".
Right, dude. You lived in my house, we used to hang out with each other, and you don't want to tell me you're married because you're protecting your privacy? That's the stupidest fucking thing I've ever heard. Then he said he knew his marriage was going to end in divorce before it even started so there was no point in telling people he was married because then he would just have to tell them he was getting a divorce. He also said he didn't lie to me about the wedding ring, that he never wore one.
Guys like him never do. Or they wear it somewhere where it isn't obvious that it's a wedding ring. And then they ask you out on a date.
I really don't understand what the fuck is happening with people. Maybe I just know only retarded guys with no morale grounding. I was talking to my friend Neil and he said that he thinks there are no good role models for guys, so the ones from my generation and younger grow up with stupid ideas of how to act in a relationship and how to treat women. Yes there are some decent guys out there, but it seems I should know more of those types of guys than the bad types of guys. And I don't.
Oh well. I'm spending the next few months on my book and don't have time to worry about the idiot guys I know, or don't really know.
I found out a few weeks ago from a mutual acquaintance that my friend was married but had recently divorced. I was shocked that he had never told me. In fact, one evening while we were having dinner I asked him about a wedding ring he was wearing and he said "it's on the wrong hand". Hm.
So yesterday we chatted for a while, and then I asked him point blank why he had never told me he was married. He said "I did tell you!" and I was like I don't think so dude. I hate it when men do that shit, like I can't remember shit. Then he said "I like to keep my personal life private".
Right, dude. You lived in my house, we used to hang out with each other, and you don't want to tell me you're married because you're protecting your privacy? That's the stupidest fucking thing I've ever heard. Then he said he knew his marriage was going to end in divorce before it even started so there was no point in telling people he was married because then he would just have to tell them he was getting a divorce. He also said he didn't lie to me about the wedding ring, that he never wore one.
Guys like him never do. Or they wear it somewhere where it isn't obvious that it's a wedding ring. And then they ask you out on a date.
I really don't understand what the fuck is happening with people. Maybe I just know only retarded guys with no morale grounding. I was talking to my friend Neil and he said that he thinks there are no good role models for guys, so the ones from my generation and younger grow up with stupid ideas of how to act in a relationship and how to treat women. Yes there are some decent guys out there, but it seems I should know more of those types of guys than the bad types of guys. And I don't.
Oh well. I'm spending the next few months on my book and don't have time to worry about the idiot guys I know, or don't really know.
some progress on the book
I finished a final draft of my book proposal yesterday and sent it out to the editors I worked with in Banff. Hopefully I'll get some feedback and I decided to send my proposal out to literary agents from Abu Dhabi. That's got to get some attention, I don't imagine most agents get a fed ex from the middle east...
Tuesday, May 4, 2010
charlie's angels
On Friday Clo, Cam and I went to the Denver Art Museum to see this new photography exhibit.
Clo came to my house and we walked to Cam's work. I was feeling a bit embarrassed as we walked to the museum because Clo and Cam were wearing cute outfits and I was wearing the same stupid stuff I always wear. I was trying to remember from the movie which one of the charlie's angels was the poorly dressed geek, but actually I think there wasn't a poorly dressed geek in that movie except for Bill Murray.
We got to meet this famous photographer named Owen who had a picture in the show. He and Clo started talking about photo paper and printing pics and stuff so Cam and I walked around looking at the pictures. There were some really cool photos, my favorite being a pic taken by an Iranian woman. It's the soles of the woman's feet (which is interesting since showing the sole of your feet in Islam is considered an insult because they are unclean) with a farsi poem written over the feet. Between the feet, although it wasn't immediately obvious, was the barrel of a gun.
Then we went to the reception to have some crackers and water (the spread for this show opening was a little sparse). A guy who had been following Clo around all night finally came over to our table (it was funny watching him do five walk bys before he came over). His name is Andy and he sells windows. I had a geek moment when I told him about my new windows, and we discussed argon gas. Clo was looking at me like "oh god, make her stop". Andy even said he had never met someone so excited about new windows.
Then we talked about a bunch of things ranging from the hadron collider to how to make a candle and Clo's grandfather to motorcycle racing. I thought she had a great observation, which was about how her grandfather used to take her everywhere even though in her culture it wasn't normal for little girls to be treated like boys. She said that because of that she always thought of herself as Clo, not "a girl". That's how I feel too. I hate it when people stereotype me because I'm a female.
Andy said he had never met such an interesting and accomplished group of women. Clo pointed out that we are all in good shape and could, between us, take on any physical challenge. Then Cam said we are all so smart that we could solve any problem with the intellectual capital between the three of us. Then I said "and, we could take over any third world country we wanted". There was a pause in the conversation. I don't know how I manage to say inappropriate things as often as I do.
Andy gave Clo his card. I have to find out if she called him...
Clo came to my house and we walked to Cam's work. I was feeling a bit embarrassed as we walked to the museum because Clo and Cam were wearing cute outfits and I was wearing the same stupid stuff I always wear. I was trying to remember from the movie which one of the charlie's angels was the poorly dressed geek, but actually I think there wasn't a poorly dressed geek in that movie except for Bill Murray.
We got to meet this famous photographer named Owen who had a picture in the show. He and Clo started talking about photo paper and printing pics and stuff so Cam and I walked around looking at the pictures. There were some really cool photos, my favorite being a pic taken by an Iranian woman. It's the soles of the woman's feet (which is interesting since showing the sole of your feet in Islam is considered an insult because they are unclean) with a farsi poem written over the feet. Between the feet, although it wasn't immediately obvious, was the barrel of a gun.
Then we went to the reception to have some crackers and water (the spread for this show opening was a little sparse). A guy who had been following Clo around all night finally came over to our table (it was funny watching him do five walk bys before he came over). His name is Andy and he sells windows. I had a geek moment when I told him about my new windows, and we discussed argon gas. Clo was looking at me like "oh god, make her stop". Andy even said he had never met someone so excited about new windows.
Then we talked about a bunch of things ranging from the hadron collider to how to make a candle and Clo's grandfather to motorcycle racing. I thought she had a great observation, which was about how her grandfather used to take her everywhere even though in her culture it wasn't normal for little girls to be treated like boys. She said that because of that she always thought of herself as Clo, not "a girl". That's how I feel too. I hate it when people stereotype me because I'm a female.
Andy said he had never met such an interesting and accomplished group of women. Clo pointed out that we are all in good shape and could, between us, take on any physical challenge. Then Cam said we are all so smart that we could solve any problem with the intellectual capital between the three of us. Then I said "and, we could take over any third world country we wanted". There was a pause in the conversation. I don't know how I manage to say inappropriate things as often as I do.
Andy gave Clo his card. I have to find out if she called him...
Wednesday, April 28, 2010
even flip flops can't help some people
The day started out with me having to take a cold shower because the water heater at my hotel is broken (shocking, I know, since I’m paying $70 a night to stay here).
But, I’m teaching a subject that is my favorite thing to talk about. And even though most of the students in my class are not that bright, they are trying. In fact, I told them the secret to being a good architect is to wear flip flops (embarrassed to say I have been wearing them since I got back from the ME dress codes be damned). The next day every one came in wearing flip flops. Hee.
Except, there's one guy in my class who is a fucking pain in the ass. He complains constantly (he is apparently unable to read directions). His boss is also in my class and described him as "not a doer". So in one exercise today he was having problems. I stood behind him and tried to verbally guide him since the step by step instructions in the student manual were beyond his comprehension.
me: click on the tools menu
idiot: I don't see that option
me: that's because you clicked on the file menu
idiot: I still don't see it
me: that's because you are clicking on a diagram INSTEAD OF THE FUCKING TOOLS MENU WHICH I HAVE TOLD YOU TO DO TWICE NOW (okay, I didn't say the caps part)
idiot: so should I click on the tools menu? where is the tools menu?
me: (at the top of the screen just like it is in EVERY OTHER FUCKING APPLICATION) let me show you
idiot: no, because if you drive then I'll never learn anything and that doesn't help me at all
me: (would it help if I kicked you in the nuts?)
Anyway, at lunch today I was working on my book proposal when idiot walked in and started screaming at me. It seems his car had been towed. He was acting as though I had personally towed it. The facts:
1. We were given an access code to get into the parking garage first by email before the class started, and then at the beginning of class Monday. The code is written on the white board literally 10 feet from idiot's face.
2. The spot where he parked was clearly marked 2 hour parking, and we were warned they tow cars.
3. Two warning messages had been left on idiot's car the previous two days for parking all day in a two hour parking space. Idiot was warned TWICE that his car would get towed.
I later talked to the guard in the lobby. He was so pissed at idiot because he had warned him that very morning not to park his car there because it would get towed. Idiot refused to move it. The guard decided to have it towed.
In any case, we got idiot's car back even though that is NOT my fucking job. I don't even WORK in the building, I'm only teaching there for 4 days. Ech.
Though, I have to admit, at the end of the day, when idiot was having problems due to his inability to not be a fucking moron every second of his life, and he asked me "why isn't this working?" and I responded (with more of an edge to my voice than I should have) "because the software doesn't like you", he actually smiled.
Tuesday, April 27, 2010
jesus doesn't love me
I was talking to a guy one day who told me that jesus loves me. I was like really, who exactly is jesus? The guy told me that jesus is this great guy who can do cool stuff like turn water into wine (great talent for any guy hanging around me to have) and that he helps total strangers by making their spouses not be dead anymore and stuff. Also, he's not materialistic and likes to travel. And loves his mother. And has carpenter skills, which is nice because I need to redo my downstairs bathroom. Best of all his dad is a king or something. So eventually, if I got together with jesus, I could be a queen and get to wear a diamond tiara which would be so cool.
I was like so how do I get in touch with this guy? He said just pray to him and he'll answer you. So I prayed dear jesus why don't you meet me at cafe colores on thursday night and we'll have a glass of wine. From what I heard jesus wears sandals and looks kind of like a hippy. He doesn't have a job. So it's not like I expected him to take me to dell frisco's.
I waited and waited, but he never showed up. Then I met a woman at cafe colores who said that jesus loved her too. I was like hm, really? She said that jesus had saved her from cancer and bought her a new car. I was like are you fucking kidding me? He can't meet me for happy hour but he did all this shit for you? Frankly, she wasn't very good looking.
So I said I need to get in touch with him because he was supposed to do something for me and he didn't. Do you have his cell number or something? She said I talk to him all the time but she didn't have his cell number.
Such a typical guy. Claims he loves you and is not available. Stands you up, doesn't give you his email or phone number, and then you find out he's involved with other women. I did some research on him to find out if he was married, and, even though it turns out he's single, he hangs out with a prostitute.
I went back to the guy who originally told me that jesus loved me and said that I thought jesus sucked. The guy said that I was wrong about him, that he's the best guy ever. Then he said I guess jesus doesn't love you.
So, I've decided to swear off guys for a while.
I was like so how do I get in touch with this guy? He said just pray to him and he'll answer you. So I prayed dear jesus why don't you meet me at cafe colores on thursday night and we'll have a glass of wine. From what I heard jesus wears sandals and looks kind of like a hippy. He doesn't have a job. So it's not like I expected him to take me to dell frisco's.
I waited and waited, but he never showed up. Then I met a woman at cafe colores who said that jesus loved her too. I was like hm, really? She said that jesus had saved her from cancer and bought her a new car. I was like are you fucking kidding me? He can't meet me for happy hour but he did all this shit for you? Frankly, she wasn't very good looking.
So I said I need to get in touch with him because he was supposed to do something for me and he didn't. Do you have his cell number or something? She said I talk to him all the time but she didn't have his cell number.
Such a typical guy. Claims he loves you and is not available. Stands you up, doesn't give you his email or phone number, and then you find out he's involved with other women. I did some research on him to find out if he was married, and, even though it turns out he's single, he hangs out with a prostitute.
I went back to the guy who originally told me that jesus loved me and said that I thought jesus sucked. The guy said that I was wrong about him, that he's the best guy ever. Then he said I guess jesus doesn't love you.
So, I've decided to swear off guys for a while.
Sunday, April 25, 2010
rental retards
I got into Dallas this afternoon and had to wait for 30 minutes to get my luggage, and then another 15 to get the shuttle bus to the rental cars because all of the buses that drove by were full. Annoying.
Then, I get to my car, which was a huge jeep (with 3 rows of seats). I was like fucking hell because I hate driving huge cars. I had to lift my 60 lb bag onto the back seat (I'm not a wimp but I hate doing shit like that while I'm smoking because I'm afraid I'll drop my cigarette - and, BTW, my bag was heavy because I had to bring a bunch of books, not because I overpacked).
I get to the checkout thing and the lady tells me I have the wrong car. I was like dude, it had my name hanging off the rearview, and it was in my stall. She said "no, you have to also check the license plate number". I was like I thought it was YOUR job to do that. Apparently not in Dallas. That has NEVER happened to me before.
So I back the monster up, take it back to my parking stall, and wander around for 5 minutes until I found my car. Which had a hertz employee sleeping in it. Which is why, I will assume, it was parked in the wrong place.
I woke the guy up, got my shit packed up again, and this time was able to leave the hertz parking garage. I then proceeded to get way lost because I was talking to my friend Trina who had just saved some guy's foot from being cut off, instead of reading my mapquest directions.
The good news about this little shit show of a trip is that I put a bottle of wine in my suitcase and, oddly, they don't sell wine here on Sunday. What the fuck is up with that? Oh yeah, I'm in Bush country.
Then, I get to my car, which was a huge jeep (with 3 rows of seats). I was like fucking hell because I hate driving huge cars. I had to lift my 60 lb bag onto the back seat (I'm not a wimp but I hate doing shit like that while I'm smoking because I'm afraid I'll drop my cigarette - and, BTW, my bag was heavy because I had to bring a bunch of books, not because I overpacked).
I get to the checkout thing and the lady tells me I have the wrong car. I was like dude, it had my name hanging off the rearview, and it was in my stall. She said "no, you have to also check the license plate number". I was like I thought it was YOUR job to do that. Apparently not in Dallas. That has NEVER happened to me before.
So I back the monster up, take it back to my parking stall, and wander around for 5 minutes until I found my car. Which had a hertz employee sleeping in it. Which is why, I will assume, it was parked in the wrong place.
I woke the guy up, got my shit packed up again, and this time was able to leave the hertz parking garage. I then proceeded to get way lost because I was talking to my friend Trina who had just saved some guy's foot from being cut off, instead of reading my mapquest directions.
The good news about this little shit show of a trip is that I put a bottle of wine in my suitcase and, oddly, they don't sell wine here on Sunday. What the fuck is up with that? Oh yeah, I'm in Bush country.
Thursday, April 15, 2010
skeleton
I picked up Jake the Snake today. I'm going to pretend that's his last name. My nickname for him is skeleton because he's so much lighter than Max.
I took him out for a 40 mile ride today. It was fun, and I'm definitely a lot faster on him most of the time, but I haven't figured out the gears yet. Sadly, I'm used to the visual I get when I shift Max so I'm not always sure where I'm at. And it seems to take more clicks to get the pedals loose (I like to ride with the pedals loose when my legs cramp or when I'm warming up).
Also, I'm not sure where to put my hands. I'm so used to Max's straight out handle bars that I feel like something's...missing. And skel's handle bars are flat on top, so that was kind of strange. I tried looking at another guy on a similar bike to see where he was putting his hands but he was not holding onto the handlebars at all because he was scratching his balls.
I also almost killed myself because I forgot I was on skel and I hopped off of a curb. Then I forgot the brakes are in a different place and almost ended up in oncoming traffic.
Which is kind of funny because when I picked skel up today I was looking at him smiling, and the guy who put him together said "why are you smiling like that?" and I said "because it's been a long time since I've seen a bike that hasn't had a wreck". And then he laughed and said "I was thinking the same thing!" He put skel on the trainer to adjust him and the owner of the store walked by and said "ape arms" so I said "fuck you". Then the mechanic hung these weights off of him to make sure everything was aligned, and then he said "something doesn't seem right here" hanging it over my right knee and I was like "dude, it's not the bike, it's my knee". I showed him my bone plug and he said "cool, you should get a tat on that".
Or, not.
He gave me a free portable bike pump, and a second set of pedals. I have to take skel in for a check up after 150 miles. Hopefully by then I'll learn how to shift him.
indie arsenal
Clo and I had the BEST time last night. We went to a networking event for a group called Indie Arsenal.
At first I was my usual socially retarded self, standing there playing with the zipper on my jacket because I was afraid to talk to anyone. Then a guy named Jason came up and started talking to me, and he reminded me of my friend Jamesy (in fact I showed him a pic because they looked alike down to the glasses though knowing Jamesy he has different glasses now - and, I told Jason the footprints on the dashboard story and he laughed so hard he spit out his beer - sorry Jamesy). I told him about my book idea and he said he really liked it.
Then these two women came up, sisters, Lynette and I forget her name, because they wanted to know what we were laughing about. I told them about my book and Lynette said "maybe next you should try horses" and gave me a card. Which was SO WEIRD because I just watched Australia (I will not speak badly about Baz, the movie was okay) and now I want to learn to jump horses. So Lynette sent me an email today with her friend's contact info and I'm going to go on a trail ride and see what happens from there.
Lynette is a vet technician so we talked about cats that have cancer for a while. Then Clo introduced me to this guy name Eric who is really tall. We talked about motorcycles for a while and he showed me his naked bike. But then, I think because I had a glass of wine, I accidentally started talking about the Higgs Boson particle and the particle accelerator. I wish I could have filmed the change in Eric's face as I started talking about this new theory that a physicist from Hopkins has about gravity (I just read the article and I don't know why but I found it really exciting). The thing was, Clo was excited too so we started talking about CERN and the particle accelerator. Eric had this look on his face like "me want to punch something" so I tried to gracefully end my point but Clo kept bringing up other interesting points. Afterward I said "I wish I hadn't brought up the particle accelerator" and Clo said "but it was interesting!" and I couldn't help but think, hm, maybe THAT'S why we're both single.
Clo won a hat in the raffle that has a place to put headphones. She wore it for a while but said it was itchy.
Then I met another writer. I was telling her that I'm working on 5 books at the same time and her husband started laughing. We decided that it's just the way writers are. I can't remember her name but she is published in real magazines. Impressive.
I am going to join this group, even though I'll miss a few meetings while I'm gone. It was really, really cool to talk to a group of people who are all artists and creative with interesting projects. I even talked to a guy about a children's book that I wrote (involving an alligator with bling on his spine, a kangaroo with oversized feet, and a giant man - the alligator and kangaroo get into trouble when they sneak into a potato chip truck, but then they go to Australia and give mittens to the great whites, which are subsequently stolen by an octopus, but then the giant man gets the mittens back by giving the octopus a scarf since he can't keep the mittens on his tentacles anyway) and he said maybe he could illustrate it for me. It was funny because he was asking about the spinal bling and I suddenly realized "I just told him this crazy story and rather than looking at me strangely he wants to draw the alligator".
Maybe I have found my people.
And we got invited to some cool music shows and Clo got invited to a barbecue. I even met a guy who was MOT, and he was talking in this crazy Arab voice because he works with a band called Air Dubai. He lives pretty close to me too. When I told him I eat pepperoni he said "You're going to hell! And you're going to stay there!"
Hee.
At first I was my usual socially retarded self, standing there playing with the zipper on my jacket because I was afraid to talk to anyone. Then a guy named Jason came up and started talking to me, and he reminded me of my friend Jamesy (in fact I showed him a pic because they looked alike down to the glasses though knowing Jamesy he has different glasses now - and, I told Jason the footprints on the dashboard story and he laughed so hard he spit out his beer - sorry Jamesy). I told him about my book idea and he said he really liked it.
Then these two women came up, sisters, Lynette and I forget her name, because they wanted to know what we were laughing about. I told them about my book and Lynette said "maybe next you should try horses" and gave me a card. Which was SO WEIRD because I just watched Australia (I will not speak badly about Baz, the movie was okay) and now I want to learn to jump horses. So Lynette sent me an email today with her friend's contact info and I'm going to go on a trail ride and see what happens from there.
Lynette is a vet technician so we talked about cats that have cancer for a while. Then Clo introduced me to this guy name Eric who is really tall. We talked about motorcycles for a while and he showed me his naked bike. But then, I think because I had a glass of wine, I accidentally started talking about the Higgs Boson particle and the particle accelerator. I wish I could have filmed the change in Eric's face as I started talking about this new theory that a physicist from Hopkins has about gravity (I just read the article and I don't know why but I found it really exciting). The thing was, Clo was excited too so we started talking about CERN and the particle accelerator. Eric had this look on his face like "me want to punch something" so I tried to gracefully end my point but Clo kept bringing up other interesting points. Afterward I said "I wish I hadn't brought up the particle accelerator" and Clo said "but it was interesting!" and I couldn't help but think, hm, maybe THAT'S why we're both single.
Clo won a hat in the raffle that has a place to put headphones. She wore it for a while but said it was itchy.
Then I met another writer. I was telling her that I'm working on 5 books at the same time and her husband started laughing. We decided that it's just the way writers are. I can't remember her name but she is published in real magazines. Impressive.
I am going to join this group, even though I'll miss a few meetings while I'm gone. It was really, really cool to talk to a group of people who are all artists and creative with interesting projects. I even talked to a guy about a children's book that I wrote (involving an alligator with bling on his spine, a kangaroo with oversized feet, and a giant man - the alligator and kangaroo get into trouble when they sneak into a potato chip truck, but then they go to Australia and give mittens to the great whites, which are subsequently stolen by an octopus, but then the giant man gets the mittens back by giving the octopus a scarf since he can't keep the mittens on his tentacles anyway) and he said maybe he could illustrate it for me. It was funny because he was asking about the spinal bling and I suddenly realized "I just told him this crazy story and rather than looking at me strangely he wants to draw the alligator".
Maybe I have found my people.
And we got invited to some cool music shows and Clo got invited to a barbecue. I even met a guy who was MOT, and he was talking in this crazy Arab voice because he works with a band called Air Dubai. He lives pretty close to me too. When I told him I eat pepperoni he said "You're going to hell! And you're going to stay there!"
Hee.
Wednesday, April 14, 2010
no monkey money
Today the UPS man stopped by to drop off some packages of training material for a class I'm teaching next week. He likes me to open the packages while he's there in case I've ordered anything cool (usually I only get books and movies, which he sometimes borrows).
I showed him the monkey money while I was opening the packages. He was like "you idiot, you're supposed to scratch off the dollar bills". Oops. In my defense he had to take a coin and scratch them really hard to get all of the stuff off. Then it turns out I didn't win anything. He looked at the back of the ticket and said "Shit. You had a 1 in 4 chance of winning something, and you had two tickets, but you didn't win anything."
I was like "I guess I'm just unlucky." He looked at the boxes of training material, flipping through one of the books in case it was something he wanted to learn. It's software stuff, so he definitely didn't want to read it. I said "I wrote that" and he said "this is boring", tossing the training material material on my table.
I walked him to the door before he could look through my movies (sometimes it takes him a long time to return them) and he said "Girl, you suck today" and left.
Hmm. I'm going to order something that weighs 70 pounds and make him carry it into my house. Bastard. I'm just kidding. I like my UPS man.
I showed him the monkey money while I was opening the packages. He was like "you idiot, you're supposed to scratch off the dollar bills". Oops. In my defense he had to take a coin and scratch them really hard to get all of the stuff off. Then it turns out I didn't win anything. He looked at the back of the ticket and said "Shit. You had a 1 in 4 chance of winning something, and you had two tickets, but you didn't win anything."
I was like "I guess I'm just unlucky." He looked at the boxes of training material, flipping through one of the books in case it was something he wanted to learn. It's software stuff, so he definitely didn't want to read it. I said "I wrote that" and he said "this is boring", tossing the training material material on my table.
I walked him to the door before he could look through my movies (sometimes it takes him a long time to return them) and he said "Girl, you suck today" and left.
Hmm. I'm going to order something that weighs 70 pounds and make him carry it into my house. Bastard. I'm just kidding. I like my UPS man.
manic
This week I have, for some reason, been super productive. Maybe it's nervous energy from my impending departure to the middle east.
Today my favorite concrete guy, Austin, came out and looked a the hole under my patio. The bad news is that he has to cut the fucking thing up and then put in a new patio because the hole is likely caused by water leakage. I told him I didn't care as long as he fixed the hole before snakes made a burrow in there, gradually finding their way into my house. He said "Franki, I don't think there are many rattle snakes that would be living here in the city". I said "Exactly, so when they find a little home they're all going to move in". He scratched his head, but then ended up cutting the price of the job, promising "If we find any snakes under there we'll get rid of them".
Then my window guys came (getting new windows, hooray!). They put my job as a rush at the factory (which is in Loveland, local windows made for altitude). I might have them installed before I leave which would be cracktacular.
Single Track called and said they finished building Jake the Snake (not to be confused with the potential snakes under my patio). I go pick him up tomorrow. New bike!!!!!!!!!
And, last night I got an email from a work colleague who read the first two chapters of my book. I have to admit I haven't done shit on my book, and the idiot Aussies who read it in the UAE made some demoralizing comments, so I was having serious doubts about my idea. My colleague wrote:
"I'm embarrassed that it's taken me so long to get back to you. I read both chapters a few weeks after you sent them to me, and I was so blown away that I couldn't find any words to write back. Then time passed and I thought, "after all this time I have to come up with some spectacular feedback to justify how long I took looking at it." Then more time passed, and it started getting ridiculous.
But today I realized that it would be easy for you to interpret my silence as criticism, indifference, or dislike of your work, so I'm writing to set the record straight. The book is amazing: your writing is clean and personal, your story is compelling and interesting, and the combination of the writing and the story mesh beautifully so it reads as if I'm your best friend and we're catching up on the phone after being out of touch for a little while. Thank you for letting me read it."
That was some encouragement out of the blue, so last night and today I started working on my book proposal again. I mean, shit, I know at least 5 people who will buy it.
Finally, when I woke up at 6 am to sit on the most boring conference call ever, I decided to replace all of my ex-boyfriend photos. Well, I still have a photo of my ex-husband (standing in the shadows of a mosque door frame in Morocco so you can't really see him) and my ex Jonas (shooting a gun in Managua). But, as soon as I take some more pics those are gone too.
And there's a text from Clo. We're going to hang out at my house for an hour and then go to a networking event for geeks in downtown Denver. Software developers are easy for me to socialize with. Compared to them I'm a fucking social butterfly.
Today my favorite concrete guy, Austin, came out and looked a the hole under my patio. The bad news is that he has to cut the fucking thing up and then put in a new patio because the hole is likely caused by water leakage. I told him I didn't care as long as he fixed the hole before snakes made a burrow in there, gradually finding their way into my house. He said "Franki, I don't think there are many rattle snakes that would be living here in the city". I said "Exactly, so when they find a little home they're all going to move in". He scratched his head, but then ended up cutting the price of the job, promising "If we find any snakes under there we'll get rid of them".
Then my window guys came (getting new windows, hooray!). They put my job as a rush at the factory (which is in Loveland, local windows made for altitude). I might have them installed before I leave which would be cracktacular.
Single Track called and said they finished building Jake the Snake (not to be confused with the potential snakes under my patio). I go pick him up tomorrow. New bike!!!!!!!!!
And, last night I got an email from a work colleague who read the first two chapters of my book. I have to admit I haven't done shit on my book, and the idiot Aussies who read it in the UAE made some demoralizing comments, so I was having serious doubts about my idea. My colleague wrote:
"I'm embarrassed that it's taken me so long to get back to you. I read both chapters a few weeks after you sent them to me, and I was so blown away that I couldn't find any words to write back. Then time passed and I thought, "after all this time I have to come up with some spectacular feedback to justify how long I took looking at it." Then more time passed, and it started getting ridiculous.
But today I realized that it would be easy for you to interpret my silence as criticism, indifference, or dislike of your work, so I'm writing to set the record straight. The book is amazing: your writing is clean and personal, your story is compelling and interesting, and the combination of the writing and the story mesh beautifully so it reads as if I'm your best friend and we're catching up on the phone after being out of touch for a little while. Thank you for letting me read it."
That was some encouragement out of the blue, so last night and today I started working on my book proposal again. I mean, shit, I know at least 5 people who will buy it.
Finally, when I woke up at 6 am to sit on the most boring conference call ever, I decided to replace all of my ex-boyfriend photos. Well, I still have a photo of my ex-husband (standing in the shadows of a mosque door frame in Morocco so you can't really see him) and my ex Jonas (shooting a gun in Managua). But, as soon as I take some more pics those are gone too.
And there's a text from Clo. We're going to hang out at my house for an hour and then go to a networking event for geeks in downtown Denver. Software developers are easy for me to socialize with. Compared to them I'm a fucking social butterfly.
Tuesday, April 13, 2010
monkey money
Because today is my 2 year anniversary with my maid service they brought me an apple pie and two lottery tickets.
I'm not a person who celebrates anniversaries. In fact, I have a hard time remembering my birthday. But, it seemed like a nice gesture. Of course, the apple pie has honey in it, so I'll have to find someone else to give it to. And I have no idea what I'm supposed to do with these fucking lottery tickets.
They have a monkey on the front of them because the funds for the ticket go to a conservation group. That's cool. There doesn't appear to be anything to scratch off of them. There are some numbers at the bottom of them. And then this bewildering statement: "Get 3 like amounts, win that amount. Get two like amounts and a "[picture of a stack of coins]" symbol, win DOUBLE that amount".
Amount of what? There are 6 yellow circles with dollar signs on the ticket but I don't know what they mean. And I looked on the back, which had even more confusing rules about registering for a second chance after the "game launch". How do I know when the game launch is?
I went out on the web site listed on the ticket and couldn't find any reference to these stupid tickets or any lottery game called "monkey money". Then I did a google search and all that came up was an announcement that someone had won a second chance sweepstakes thing and the announcement mentioned that $2 billion dollars had been donated to this conservation group that is being supported by monkey money.
So what am I supposed to do with these fucking tickets? I'm a bit embarrassed that homeless people know how to play the lottery and I don't. I've only had one other lottery ticket, that some guy at work bought me after I was diagnosed with cancer. I accidentally wrapped my gum in it. He asked me about it a few days later and I managed to pull it apart enough for him to see the number on it. I won $20 but when he took it to where ever you go to get your money they wouldn't take my ticket because of the gum. He was so mad that when he got back to the office he said that I owed him $10 because I should have split the ticket winnings since he bought it for me. I gave him the money and threw the ticket away, deciding that the lottery was too expensive to play.
And now I have more stupid tickets. I'll probably end up owing my maids money. I would throw them into the recycling bin but they have a coating and I'm not sure they can be recycled.
I guess I should go back to working...cause it's not like I'm going to win the lottery.
I'm not a person who celebrates anniversaries. In fact, I have a hard time remembering my birthday. But, it seemed like a nice gesture. Of course, the apple pie has honey in it, so I'll have to find someone else to give it to. And I have no idea what I'm supposed to do with these fucking lottery tickets.
They have a monkey on the front of them because the funds for the ticket go to a conservation group. That's cool. There doesn't appear to be anything to scratch off of them. There are some numbers at the bottom of them. And then this bewildering statement: "Get 3 like amounts, win that amount. Get two like amounts and a "[picture of a stack of coins]" symbol, win DOUBLE that amount".
Amount of what? There are 6 yellow circles with dollar signs on the ticket but I don't know what they mean. And I looked on the back, which had even more confusing rules about registering for a second chance after the "game launch". How do I know when the game launch is?
I went out on the web site listed on the ticket and couldn't find any reference to these stupid tickets or any lottery game called "monkey money". Then I did a google search and all that came up was an announcement that someone had won a second chance sweepstakes thing and the announcement mentioned that $2 billion dollars had been donated to this conservation group that is being supported by monkey money.
So what am I supposed to do with these fucking tickets? I'm a bit embarrassed that homeless people know how to play the lottery and I don't. I've only had one other lottery ticket, that some guy at work bought me after I was diagnosed with cancer. I accidentally wrapped my gum in it. He asked me about it a few days later and I managed to pull it apart enough for him to see the number on it. I won $20 but when he took it to where ever you go to get your money they wouldn't take my ticket because of the gum. He was so mad that when he got back to the office he said that I owed him $10 because I should have split the ticket winnings since he bought it for me. I gave him the money and threw the ticket away, deciding that the lottery was too expensive to play.
And now I have more stupid tickets. I'll probably end up owing my maids money. I would throw them into the recycling bin but they have a coating and I'm not sure they can be recycled.
I guess I should go back to working...cause it's not like I'm going to win the lottery.
Sunday, April 11, 2010
mountain madness
Last night my friend Clo and I went to this stupid mountaineering gala. Four mountaineers of note were being honored. We decided to go because it was a chance to dress up, and I wanted to buy a new pair of shoes.
Unusually for me, I arrived 15 minutes late. I felt bad. I felt worse when I saw Clo. In my stilettos I'm 6'2". Clo is 5 feet before adding heels. She took one look at me and said "I hate you. You're too tall."
I was thinking Clo was going to be a social butterfly because she's from Columbia, but she's as socially retarded as me. We were by far the best looking people there. Which is not saying much. Half the people were dressed in jeans with carabiners hanging from the belt loops. Gay. Then most of the crowd consisted of old ladies, like, over 60. We were like where are the hot guys????
We went over to what we thought were snacks before the dinner. The snacks were a bowl of green olives, a big dish of crab dip, and little slices of ham and cheese mushed together. There were also those little stale bread chips. We were getting hungry and finally Clo asked a waiter when dinner would be served. He looked at her strangely and said "that is dinner". Clo was like "are you fucking kidding me?" The only thing they had to drink was wine, water, and beer. Clo doesn't drink and she really wanted a coke. You would have thought she had asked the wait staff to build her the Taj Mahal. Finally a waiter snapped "if you can wait until 745 (it was 6 PM) we're serving coffee".
A local celebrity climber showed up who gets more and more obnoxious as the years go by. He knows Clo pretty well because she used to date a friend of his. I've met him at a number of events. He wanted us to come back to his friend's house for a hot tub and weed party. We were both like "NO" at the same time. Then we both said "whatever dude!" at the exact same time after he walked away.
There was a hot guy that finally showed up. But, he was wearing a burgundy shirt with a yellow tie and a black sport jacket. Yikes. I also found out a friend of mine, who is constantly hitting on me, has been married for the past 6 years and has a baby. One of Clo's friends went to the wedding. Odd, because I dated him briefly in 2006. I decided to never, ever date a mountaineer again. They are such pieces of shit for the most part.
We finally left, but not before the woman who was running the gala stopped us at the door and asked why we were leaving. I tried to be nice and say we were tired, but Clo was like "we're leaving because it's fucking boring!" I managed to not laugh until the woman walked away. Seriously, it's hard to turn a story about a dramatic ascent of K2 into a snooze fest (one guy caught the rest of his team as they were falling off of a cliff by planting his ax in the snow - it's one of the classic mountaineering stories). I was surprised how bad and boring the speaker, who wrote one of my favorite everest books, was.
We went to a noodle place in Boulder and talked for about 3 hours. We have so much in common that Clo finally said "I feel like you have lived my life, and I've lived yours, but in different places". It turns out we were born only 4 days apart even. She was married and divorced the exact same time I was. We both run into major guy issues all the time.
On relationships, Clo said "you know, some days you're going to be fat, and somedays you are going to be skinny, and guys don't seem to be able to accept that". She wasn't really talking about weight, but how men seem to trivialize our accomplishments down to just what we look like. She also works with a company that sponsor an event called "gimps on ice" for people who are amputees that want to learn to climb. She has dated a number of athletes, and she said that her measure of the man is to see if he has enough going on that if he loses a limb he will be able to keep going. I thought that was a really smart thing to think about.
I'm hoping to see Clo again this week before I leave for DC. She's coming to Denver to pick up a strait jacket to take a picture of this climber dude who looks crazy. She also has some pictures that are going to be published in People magazine. It's inspiring me to start working on my book again.
As we were leaving the restaurant she suggested that we collaborate together on a travel article. She'll take the pictures and I'll write the article. I'm pretty excited about the idea. I'm hoping she really does come visit me when I head back to the middle east.
I think it will be the best fucking travel article ever. The two of us are definitely capable of getting into a lot of interesting trouble.
Unusually for me, I arrived 15 minutes late. I felt bad. I felt worse when I saw Clo. In my stilettos I'm 6'2". Clo is 5 feet before adding heels. She took one look at me and said "I hate you. You're too tall."
I was thinking Clo was going to be a social butterfly because she's from Columbia, but she's as socially retarded as me. We were by far the best looking people there. Which is not saying much. Half the people were dressed in jeans with carabiners hanging from the belt loops. Gay. Then most of the crowd consisted of old ladies, like, over 60. We were like where are the hot guys????
We went over to what we thought were snacks before the dinner. The snacks were a bowl of green olives, a big dish of crab dip, and little slices of ham and cheese mushed together. There were also those little stale bread chips. We were getting hungry and finally Clo asked a waiter when dinner would be served. He looked at her strangely and said "that is dinner". Clo was like "are you fucking kidding me?" The only thing they had to drink was wine, water, and beer. Clo doesn't drink and she really wanted a coke. You would have thought she had asked the wait staff to build her the Taj Mahal. Finally a waiter snapped "if you can wait until 745 (it was 6 PM) we're serving coffee".
A local celebrity climber showed up who gets more and more obnoxious as the years go by. He knows Clo pretty well because she used to date a friend of his. I've met him at a number of events. He wanted us to come back to his friend's house for a hot tub and weed party. We were both like "NO" at the same time. Then we both said "whatever dude!" at the exact same time after he walked away.
There was a hot guy that finally showed up. But, he was wearing a burgundy shirt with a yellow tie and a black sport jacket. Yikes. I also found out a friend of mine, who is constantly hitting on me, has been married for the past 6 years and has a baby. One of Clo's friends went to the wedding. Odd, because I dated him briefly in 2006. I decided to never, ever date a mountaineer again. They are such pieces of shit for the most part.
We finally left, but not before the woman who was running the gala stopped us at the door and asked why we were leaving. I tried to be nice and say we were tired, but Clo was like "we're leaving because it's fucking boring!" I managed to not laugh until the woman walked away. Seriously, it's hard to turn a story about a dramatic ascent of K2 into a snooze fest (one guy caught the rest of his team as they were falling off of a cliff by planting his ax in the snow - it's one of the classic mountaineering stories). I was surprised how bad and boring the speaker, who wrote one of my favorite everest books, was.
We went to a noodle place in Boulder and talked for about 3 hours. We have so much in common that Clo finally said "I feel like you have lived my life, and I've lived yours, but in different places". It turns out we were born only 4 days apart even. She was married and divorced the exact same time I was. We both run into major guy issues all the time.
On relationships, Clo said "you know, some days you're going to be fat, and somedays you are going to be skinny, and guys don't seem to be able to accept that". She wasn't really talking about weight, but how men seem to trivialize our accomplishments down to just what we look like. She also works with a company that sponsor an event called "gimps on ice" for people who are amputees that want to learn to climb. She has dated a number of athletes, and she said that her measure of the man is to see if he has enough going on that if he loses a limb he will be able to keep going. I thought that was a really smart thing to think about.
I'm hoping to see Clo again this week before I leave for DC. She's coming to Denver to pick up a strait jacket to take a picture of this climber dude who looks crazy. She also has some pictures that are going to be published in People magazine. It's inspiring me to start working on my book again.
As we were leaving the restaurant she suggested that we collaborate together on a travel article. She'll take the pictures and I'll write the article. I'm pretty excited about the idea. I'm hoping she really does come visit me when I head back to the middle east.
I think it will be the best fucking travel article ever. The two of us are definitely capable of getting into a lot of interesting trouble.
Friday, April 9, 2010
Joe tries to kill me...again
I seem to be more likely to die trying to drive to an ice climb than actually ice climbing. On Friday I drove up to Montana to visit Joe. He said there was still some ice up at Pine Creek. We took his friend's truck and headed up there Saturday morning, even though it was snowing.
I had not forgotten how scary the Pine Creek road was since I had to drive it last year after a snow. But Joe thought we would be okay in the truck. We got halfway to the parking lot and the truck was pushing snow. We didn't have a place to turn around so we drove all the way to the parking lot. Scary. Then we decided to turn around because the snow conditions were getting worse and we were worried we would get stuck at the trail head. I started making this movie as the conditions got worse.
If I sound a little nervous that's because I was. Nice driving again this year Joe!
I had not forgotten how scary the Pine Creek road was since I had to drive it last year after a snow. But Joe thought we would be okay in the truck. We got halfway to the parking lot and the truck was pushing snow. We didn't have a place to turn around so we drove all the way to the parking lot. Scary. Then we decided to turn around because the snow conditions were getting worse and we were worried we would get stuck at the trail head. I started making this movie as the conditions got worse.
If I sound a little nervous that's because I was. Nice driving again this year Joe!
Tuesday, April 6, 2010
eight arms and guns
The other night I had a dream that I was in the galley of a small boat. We were in a war. I was briefing some octopi, there must have been 20 of them, on the war situation. I was standing at a white board drawing diagrams. The octopi were being bad. One would knock something off a shelf and I would run to put it back. As soon as I got to the white board to make more notes another octopus would throw something else on the floor. They kept giggling.
Then a general came into the galley and said "you're up". We all rushed out to the deck and had to duck under the side of the boat because someone was shooting at us. I was like fuck, we're really in a war. I yelled for the octopi to ready their guns. I looked over the side of the boat and a bullet went whizzing by my head. I was like fuck, these guys are serious.
I put my back against the side of the boat and started loading a 9 mm gun (I know, why bother) with bullets. I was giving orders to the octopi, who were being obedient. I thought maybe we'll be okay.
Then I looked to my left and saw the leader of the octopi slumped down against the side of the boat right next to me. He had a scared but determined expression on his face. He was wearing a naval captain's hat. I thought to myself, wow, I didn't know he was a captain. Then I realized how ridiculous he looked in that hat, holding a gun. I thought to myself what the fuck was I thinking trying to take a bunch of octopi to fight a war? I had a sense of dread that we were about to be killed.
Then I woke up.
Then a general came into the galley and said "you're up". We all rushed out to the deck and had to duck under the side of the boat because someone was shooting at us. I was like fuck, we're really in a war. I yelled for the octopi to ready their guns. I looked over the side of the boat and a bullet went whizzing by my head. I was like fuck, these guys are serious.
I put my back against the side of the boat and started loading a 9 mm gun (I know, why bother) with bullets. I was giving orders to the octopi, who were being obedient. I thought maybe we'll be okay.
Then I looked to my left and saw the leader of the octopi slumped down against the side of the boat right next to me. He had a scared but determined expression on his face. He was wearing a naval captain's hat. I thought to myself, wow, I didn't know he was a captain. Then I realized how ridiculous he looked in that hat, holding a gun. I thought to myself what the fuck was I thinking trying to take a bunch of octopi to fight a war? I had a sense of dread that we were about to be killed.
Then I woke up.
Thursday, April 1, 2010
jake the snake
After doing a 30 mile bike ride on Tuesday, crunched up on Max Crash, I started thinking maybe it was time for a change.
When I bought Max in 2003 I planned on only trail riding. I was between a medium and large frame and the saleswoman suggested going with the medium frame because it would be better for riding trails. Of course, she also sold me these time pedals that caused me to almost kill myself.
After dislocating my shoulder and taking all the skin off my arms and legs after falling into a ravine I never quite got my groove back for riding hard trails. And after fracturing both of my wrists two years ago I stopped riding trails altogether. I've just been using Max to go out for long rides, and he's not the most comfortable little machine for that. I was starting to think ragbrai might turn into the biggest suck ever.
Since I'm getting money back on my taxes my dad, who is the cheapest person on the planet, suggested I buy a new bike. Then someone sent me a picture of a cyclocross bike. A few hours later, after sitting in conference call hell all day, I decided to go to a store and see what was up with the cyclocrosses.
Apparently it's not the "season" for them. Like, what is that? It's a bike, not a bathing suit. But the guy assured me he could order me a bike. I decided to go with the Kona Major Tom since that was what was recommended to me. A flurry of activity then ensued. The sales guy whipped out a tape measure and started measuring me while the store owner did some calculations. They didn't have a bike in the store that they could size me to, and they were going to have to order Major Tom, and they wanted to make sure they got the right size bike. Or so the sales guy claimed as he was measuring my inseam.
"You're all legs, ha ha!" the owner said after commenting on the disparity between my torso and my legs. He got an even bigger laugh about the length of my arms. I'm very self conscious about my arms, and you will never see a picture of me with my arms hanging straight because they are totally disproportionate to my torso and I look like an ape. Just when it seemed I couldn't be humiliated any more they put me on a scale. I was like why would my weight matter for a bike and the owner said "I just wanted to see how much you weighed". Ha. Ha. Ha.
Unfortunately Kona did not have the Major Jake in stock in my size. They said it would be at least 8 weeks until they could deliver the bike. At that point I was already upset to not be taking a new bike home. They told me the only thing they had in my size was Jake the Snake, which is a lesser bike than Major Jake. I was disappointed until I saw that JSnake was almost the same color as Max Crash.
I texted my dad and said that I was about to buy a bike that is probably worth more than my car. He said "buy it!!!!!" I was like maybe I should think about it and he was like "buy it for fuck's sake!!!" I've been talking to him for at least 4 years about buying a road bike.
So I bought JSnake. The store owner listened patiently as I told him how much I dislike snakes. I asked if I would be able to run over snakes with Jake the Snake. He furrowed his brow in all seriousness and said "hmmm, I don't know". Then he said "but you're really going to love this bike!"
The brightest minds don't work in bike shops, I think.
So JSnake is supposed to arrive on Tuesday. My ticket has priority so JSnake is getting put together on arrival. I might have him by Wednesday. My dad called me a few minutes after I left the bike shop to find out what I bought. He's jealous. I wonder if he's going to buy a new bike before ragbrai.
I worry about Max Crash. I don't want him to be sad. Maybe I'll start trail riding again. He can't complain about not getting used though. That bike has a lot of miles on it. There was a time, after I finished school and before I started traveling all the time, when I would ride between 30 to 60 miles a day. I like riding. It makes me not think about anything because I have to watch out for snakes to run over. I've spent more time with Max than any boyfriend I've ever had.
And I've been thinking. The company I work for sucks. So maybe I'll try to find a job local that's close enough that I can ride JSnake there. Then take Max out for a spin when I get home. Then everyone would be happy, most of all me.
So Andy, if you're reading this, I might make the ALS ride this year. Wouldn't that be a shock.
When I bought Max in 2003 I planned on only trail riding. I was between a medium and large frame and the saleswoman suggested going with the medium frame because it would be better for riding trails. Of course, she also sold me these time pedals that caused me to almost kill myself.
After dislocating my shoulder and taking all the skin off my arms and legs after falling into a ravine I never quite got my groove back for riding hard trails. And after fracturing both of my wrists two years ago I stopped riding trails altogether. I've just been using Max to go out for long rides, and he's not the most comfortable little machine for that. I was starting to think ragbrai might turn into the biggest suck ever.
Since I'm getting money back on my taxes my dad, who is the cheapest person on the planet, suggested I buy a new bike. Then someone sent me a picture of a cyclocross bike. A few hours later, after sitting in conference call hell all day, I decided to go to a store and see what was up with the cyclocrosses.
Apparently it's not the "season" for them. Like, what is that? It's a bike, not a bathing suit. But the guy assured me he could order me a bike. I decided to go with the Kona Major Tom since that was what was recommended to me. A flurry of activity then ensued. The sales guy whipped out a tape measure and started measuring me while the store owner did some calculations. They didn't have a bike in the store that they could size me to, and they were going to have to order Major Tom, and they wanted to make sure they got the right size bike. Or so the sales guy claimed as he was measuring my inseam.
"You're all legs, ha ha!" the owner said after commenting on the disparity between my torso and my legs. He got an even bigger laugh about the length of my arms. I'm very self conscious about my arms, and you will never see a picture of me with my arms hanging straight because they are totally disproportionate to my torso and I look like an ape. Just when it seemed I couldn't be humiliated any more they put me on a scale. I was like why would my weight matter for a bike and the owner said "I just wanted to see how much you weighed". Ha. Ha. Ha.
Unfortunately Kona did not have the Major Jake in stock in my size. They said it would be at least 8 weeks until they could deliver the bike. At that point I was already upset to not be taking a new bike home. They told me the only thing they had in my size was Jake the Snake, which is a lesser bike than Major Jake. I was disappointed until I saw that JSnake was almost the same color as Max Crash.
I texted my dad and said that I was about to buy a bike that is probably worth more than my car. He said "buy it!!!!!" I was like maybe I should think about it and he was like "buy it for fuck's sake!!!" I've been talking to him for at least 4 years about buying a road bike.
So I bought JSnake. The store owner listened patiently as I told him how much I dislike snakes. I asked if I would be able to run over snakes with Jake the Snake. He furrowed his brow in all seriousness and said "hmmm, I don't know". Then he said "but you're really going to love this bike!"
The brightest minds don't work in bike shops, I think.
So JSnake is supposed to arrive on Tuesday. My ticket has priority so JSnake is getting put together on arrival. I might have him by Wednesday. My dad called me a few minutes after I left the bike shop to find out what I bought. He's jealous. I wonder if he's going to buy a new bike before ragbrai.
I worry about Max Crash. I don't want him to be sad. Maybe I'll start trail riding again. He can't complain about not getting used though. That bike has a lot of miles on it. There was a time, after I finished school and before I started traveling all the time, when I would ride between 30 to 60 miles a day. I like riding. It makes me not think about anything because I have to watch out for snakes to run over. I've spent more time with Max than any boyfriend I've ever had.
And I've been thinking. The company I work for sucks. So maybe I'll try to find a job local that's close enough that I can ride JSnake there. Then take Max out for a spin when I get home. Then everyone would be happy, most of all me.
So Andy, if you're reading this, I might make the ALS ride this year. Wouldn't that be a shock.
Friday, March 26, 2010
maybe I should let my cacti watch tv
I'm getting really worried about my cacti. Something seems to be wrong with them.
I got my first two cacti 3 years ago. My dad bought them for me because, he said, "even you can't kill them". Unfortunately, a year later, one of the cacti, Natski, died. But Michel lived on, and seemed to flourish. Except, I could tell he was lonely. So I bought him some friends.
Everything was fine for a while, but then, last spring, Michel, who was orange, started to take on a pink hue similar to the color Natski was. I wondered if he was still grieving about her. But he appeared happy with his friends. Then I gave my cacti to Joe while I was in the middle east. Shortly after Joe started bringing skanky bitches home (I'm just kidding, I'm sure they were nice girls even if they did work as strippers), Michel died.
I can't bring myself to throw him away. But then, after arriving home, some of the other cacti started to have problems. St. David Thornstein developed a serious posture problem. Is that normal? Could he have scoliosis? Maybe he needs a bigger pot? Or maybe he's sad because I put him next to a dead cactus. Though, he and Michel were good friends before Michel died.
(St. David Thornstein with Michel)
Just in case SDT was depressed about Michel, I moved him next to Tammy Faye Cactus and Ernie. Then, one of Ernie's um, branches? cactus arms? fell off, as did his flower. Foucault seems to be doing okay, and Tammy Faye appears as happy as ever. I just worry about the three guys. I'm experimenting with different configurations to see if it's just a group dynamics problem. And I put Ernie over by Side Show Bob (my aloe plant) so I could give the other cacti a pep talk and to make sure they knew it was NOT okay to make fun of Ernie since his arm fell off.
Maybe I should put Ernie and Pascal together. Pascal is a tough little cactus, but he's nicer than Foucault (not everyone is into homosexual sadism), and he believes in medical miracles as well as embracing his frivolous side. I think he may be a more positive influence although I don't know if putting Tammy Faye and Pascal together is a good idea. Ernie might end up being super religious. Then he'll fight with St. David Thornstein.
(Tammy Faye Cactus, Foucault, Pascal, and Ernie)
I read an article about a guy named Jonathon Keats who is actually being paid to create tv shows for plants that show the sky of different locations around the world. Among other reasons he thinks that's a good idea is because "plants can't travel". He previously created a video showing bees pollinating plants, and called it plant pornography. He is unsure if his videos are manipulating the plants or not.
I don't know if plant tv or plant pornography is the answer to my cacti problem. Maybe they're jealous that I had two cacti in the UAE, so I won't talk about those cacti anymore and I'm going to take their pictures off the refrigerator. And I should go back to playing John Coltrane during the day when I'm working.
I'm just not sure I want to expose my darling cacti to porn or tv. Which, really, is the same thing, isn't it?
I got my first two cacti 3 years ago. My dad bought them for me because, he said, "even you can't kill them". Unfortunately, a year later, one of the cacti, Natski, died. But Michel lived on, and seemed to flourish. Except, I could tell he was lonely. So I bought him some friends.
Everything was fine for a while, but then, last spring, Michel, who was orange, started to take on a pink hue similar to the color Natski was. I wondered if he was still grieving about her. But he appeared happy with his friends. Then I gave my cacti to Joe while I was in the middle east. Shortly after Joe started bringing skanky bitches home (I'm just kidding, I'm sure they were nice girls even if they did work as strippers), Michel died.
I can't bring myself to throw him away. But then, after arriving home, some of the other cacti started to have problems. St. David Thornstein developed a serious posture problem. Is that normal? Could he have scoliosis? Maybe he needs a bigger pot? Or maybe he's sad because I put him next to a dead cactus. Though, he and Michel were good friends before Michel died.
(St. David Thornstein with Michel)
Just in case SDT was depressed about Michel, I moved him next to Tammy Faye Cactus and Ernie. Then, one of Ernie's um, branches? cactus arms? fell off, as did his flower. Foucault seems to be doing okay, and Tammy Faye appears as happy as ever. I just worry about the three guys. I'm experimenting with different configurations to see if it's just a group dynamics problem. And I put Ernie over by Side Show Bob (my aloe plant) so I could give the other cacti a pep talk and to make sure they knew it was NOT okay to make fun of Ernie since his arm fell off.
Maybe I should put Ernie and Pascal together. Pascal is a tough little cactus, but he's nicer than Foucault (not everyone is into homosexual sadism), and he believes in medical miracles as well as embracing his frivolous side. I think he may be a more positive influence although I don't know if putting Tammy Faye and Pascal together is a good idea. Ernie might end up being super religious. Then he'll fight with St. David Thornstein.
(Tammy Faye Cactus, Foucault, Pascal, and Ernie)
I read an article about a guy named Jonathon Keats who is actually being paid to create tv shows for plants that show the sky of different locations around the world. Among other reasons he thinks that's a good idea is because "plants can't travel". He previously created a video showing bees pollinating plants, and called it plant pornography. He is unsure if his videos are manipulating the plants or not.
I don't know if plant tv or plant pornography is the answer to my cacti problem. Maybe they're jealous that I had two cacti in the UAE, so I won't talk about those cacti anymore and I'm going to take their pictures off the refrigerator. And I should go back to playing John Coltrane during the day when I'm working.
I'm just not sure I want to expose my darling cacti to porn or tv. Which, really, is the same thing, isn't it?
Thursday, March 25, 2010
love and genetics
The other week I was hanging out with some other consultants and we had a discussion about love and monogamy. I always start that discussion with any married person I know just because I like to see what people think about the topic.
Recently, based on some guy research and information, I decided that it's impossible for a guy to be in a monogamous relationship, and that women shouldn't take it personally when men cheat on them because men aren't capable of having the same emotional commitment to a relationship that women do, mostly because they will never have to push a person out of their vagina so they don't really get love. They don't understand the emotional implication of sleeping with someone else and that's why they do it.
But then I was talking to Texas, one of my favorite consultants. Well, my favorite now that my italian requirements partner has flown the coop. He got married when he was 19. He's still as in love with his wife as he was when he met her. You can tell by the way he talks about her. He's not one of those guys constantly on the phone or whatever with her or needing to talk to her for every decision (you know, the guy that you look at and are like "whipped, wimp, what are you a woman"). His wife was diagnosed with MS and he's doing everything he can to take care of her too, so it's not like she's totally perfect and therefore easy to love.
I asked him why his marriage has been so successful and how he is still in love with his wife after a billion years of marriage. He said "you have to stick together even when one of you doesn't like the other one, or when you both don't like each other". I asked him how did he do that. He looked at me like I was an idiot and he said "because you love each other and you want it to work out".
So I started wondering if it's the person that is willing to put in the effort to stick it out or is it the person that they are in a relationship with that makes them stick it out. For example, if I were married to NDGT would I stay with him because I'm that kind of person or because I think NDGT is the coolest guy ever? For the record, I think he's married, and I'm not trying to insult his wife. I've been watching my favorite universe again and I just love it when he talks about binary stars. I think NDGT is possibly one of the coolest people on the planet. Besides me, of course. I wish he would invite me over for dinner some night so we could have a conversation somewhere else besides in my head.
Um...where was I...
Oh yeah. So, if anyone knows the answer to my question, can you please post it as a comment. I'm curious.
I once dated a guy who was completely loyal to his wife even after he found out she was having an affair. Finally, though, he couldn't take it anymore and gave her an ultimatum: either dump the affair guy or he was going to leave. She refused to end the affair so he left. I wasn't sure about dating the guy, but everyone kept telling me how loyal and whatever he was.
But, within 3 months of our relationship, he slept with someone else. And sent me an email about it. Like I was supposed to be proud of him. Anyway, shortly afterward the relationship rolled off the proverbial cliff.
I've always wondered if he was an asshole or if he just didn't like me as much as he liked his ex-wife.
Recently, based on some guy research and information, I decided that it's impossible for a guy to be in a monogamous relationship, and that women shouldn't take it personally when men cheat on them because men aren't capable of having the same emotional commitment to a relationship that women do, mostly because they will never have to push a person out of their vagina so they don't really get love. They don't understand the emotional implication of sleeping with someone else and that's why they do it.
But then I was talking to Texas, one of my favorite consultants. Well, my favorite now that my italian requirements partner has flown the coop. He got married when he was 19. He's still as in love with his wife as he was when he met her. You can tell by the way he talks about her. He's not one of those guys constantly on the phone or whatever with her or needing to talk to her for every decision (you know, the guy that you look at and are like "whipped, wimp, what are you a woman"). His wife was diagnosed with MS and he's doing everything he can to take care of her too, so it's not like she's totally perfect and therefore easy to love.
I asked him why his marriage has been so successful and how he is still in love with his wife after a billion years of marriage. He said "you have to stick together even when one of you doesn't like the other one, or when you both don't like each other". I asked him how did he do that. He looked at me like I was an idiot and he said "because you love each other and you want it to work out".
So I started wondering if it's the person that is willing to put in the effort to stick it out or is it the person that they are in a relationship with that makes them stick it out. For example, if I were married to NDGT would I stay with him because I'm that kind of person or because I think NDGT is the coolest guy ever? For the record, I think he's married, and I'm not trying to insult his wife. I've been watching my favorite universe again and I just love it when he talks about binary stars. I think NDGT is possibly one of the coolest people on the planet. Besides me, of course. I wish he would invite me over for dinner some night so we could have a conversation somewhere else besides in my head.
Um...where was I...
Oh yeah. So, if anyone knows the answer to my question, can you please post it as a comment. I'm curious.
I once dated a guy who was completely loyal to his wife even after he found out she was having an affair. Finally, though, he couldn't take it anymore and gave her an ultimatum: either dump the affair guy or he was going to leave. She refused to end the affair so he left. I wasn't sure about dating the guy, but everyone kept telling me how loyal and whatever he was.
But, within 3 months of our relationship, he slept with someone else. And sent me an email about it. Like I was supposed to be proud of him. Anyway, shortly afterward the relationship rolled off the proverbial cliff.
I've always wondered if he was an asshole or if he just didn't like me as much as he liked his ex-wife.
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