Speaking of sake, I now have only five more to try to complete my Dragonfish sake club card (out of twenty-two).
Monday night completed my very first season in a bowling league. Personally, I did fairly well considering I bowl once every pon farr, or thereabouts. (apologies for that reference) I met some nice, interesting people and had a fun time. I may do it again in the near future.
The Sounders must have lost a coin toss to be stuck opening the season against the L.A. Galaxy. There was no way Sounders would win, and that’s what we call ‘starting off on the wrong foot’. It was an exciting game, however, in really nice seats thanks to the unfortunate timing of illness for a very nice woman.
One of my friends lost her job (unfairly, I might add) and tomorrow is her last day. It is a tough time for a lot of people, and this was a particularly sucky situation. I hope that good things will come out of this for her, that this loss will set her on a fortunate path.
Over the last several years, I’ve had the occasional dream wherein I’ve uprooted myself and returned to New York to continue my education and further my career. These are generally very good dreams, but always twinged with a thought of “am I really doing the right thing?” In recent weeks, I’ve had the occasional dream wherein I’m just leaving, moving somewhere else. In these dreams, I am overall happy and content, and there is no question of whether I’m doing the right thing. In fact, the most recent version had me packing up my things and joining with a friend/love interest for a trip around the country. The intent was to go to a town, try it on for size, and if it didn’t fit we’d move on to the next town, with the idea that maybe we’d stop at the first town we came across, or maybe we’d never find the one that fit. Either way – or else somewhere in between – we were perfectly OK with that. I felt pretty good waking from that dream, and I intend to ponder its meaning for a while.
I purchased my first ever PBS item and it is currently on its way to my domicile – Lidia’s Italy: 140 Simple and Delicious Recipes from the Ten Places in Italy Lidia Loves Most. Lidia has kept me company on many sleepless nights, and I’ve been meaning to get one of her books and cook one of her dishes myself. I’m pretty excited.
And that, my friends, is that. (for now)
Category Archives: myself
Another Revolution
A little bit older, not really any wiser.This year my birthday cheeseburger came from Uneeda Burger, a new gourmet burger joint in Fremont. I had the Philly style burger, with Gruyère, peppers, and onions. It was delicious. Not quite as gargantuan as some of my past cheeseburgers, but their rendition on poutine helped fill the void. They also have Thomas Kemper root beer on tap, which is kinda awesome.Before I had my celebratory vittles, I saw The Fighter, an incredible film that will probably win more than one Oscar. I watched it in Ballard at the Majestic Bay Theatres, a venue worthy of your patronage. Once I was done eating, I found my way to the Mecca Cafe, as is my custom. Lots of wonderful people joined in the fun, and the whole day was a blast.
Merry Christmas To Me – An Adventure Story
I made a list of things to do on Christmas Day – that being the 25th day of December, another day on the calendar for me. Unlike a lot of days when I make lists, I actually managed to do everything I set out to do. In the morning, I took a quick trip down south to feed and greet an alone kitty cat. From there I headed into downtown Seattle and Pacific Place Mall. At the AMC theatre there, any movie beginning before noon is only (only!) six dollars. Before I get to the movie, downtown was virtually empty. Kinda like an early Sunday morning, but even emptier. I was going to park on the street since it would be free for the holiday and there would be plenty of spaces, but something about the emptiness told me I should opt for the safety of the garage. I’ve never seen that garage so empty and was able to park on the top level right outside the elevator room.Once upstairs at AMC, there were quite a few people trickling in for movie time. I bought a ticket for The Tempest and had a half hour to spare. I went in to find the cafe/bar was open. I had already decided, while still at home, that I would get concessions, but I was not prepared for the prices. I haven’t been to that theatre in a while, but they must have just recently raised all their prices. I couldn’t tell you what the old ones where, but earlier this year they were definitely lower. A small soda is now $4.25 and a small popcorn is $5.75. I walked over to the cafe/bar just to see what beers they had in stock and discovered a bottle of beer is only $4! What? A beer is cheaper than the smallest size soda? Where is the logic? So, I had a bottle of Dos Equis poured into a pint glass for me, and had enough time to finish it before the trailers started (the beer and wine can only be consumed in their little corral).Note: You can get a decent amount of popcorn at the new Cinerama for only $2 for plain and $3 for chocolate/mixed.The movie itself was pretty good. Amazingly I was able to follow pretty well the unceasing prose. The costumes were cool – tons of zippers and Prospera’s cape was nifty. The film got a PG-13 rating, partly due to some nudity, which I do believe only amounted to Ben Wishaw’s fake boobies in a few scenes as his Ariel character. They’re obviously fake – he’s a boy! – so I find it a little funny that they should be mentioned in the rating.After the film, I went back home to gather up some things to take to the post office. While I didn’t take everything I intended, the fact is, I did go to the post office and send a package and a letter which is all I intended. All it means is that I’ll have to go back to the post office another day to mail the rest of the items.The walk to the post office was a bit disconcerting. It’s funny how the one day a year that is supposed to be the happiest and most full of love and togetherness was actually a tad bit scary. The streets were practically deserted, most businesses closed. The quiet and the emptiness had me on edge. Anything could have happened that afternoon, and most likely no one would have noticed. I didn’t feel totally safe until I got into Mecca and sat down at the counter. Amazingly, at 3 o’clock on Christmas afternoon, the bar was pretty full, with more people than some days after work. Even in the diner side, most of the booths were occupied. So I sat at the counter and had my Christmas dinner at Mecca. Afterwards, full as a tick, I plodded home, content that I had done everything on my list for the day.Now it’s way too early on the day after (thank the cat for that – the fuzzy alarm clock). I have no plans except to maybe cash in the pizza gift card I got from Secret Santa, thereby delaying a grocery store run a few days. I think I may work on my latch hook rug some more. Or maybe I’ll just do nothing. That’s the prerogative of being an unfettered adult.
Turning Off
I’ve been analyzing and stressing over my budget this week (as opposed to all the other weeks?) and have come up with a way to save a little money. Just a very little, I’m sure, but right now my “expenses” are already fairly pared down. I ask myself, what more can I do? So, I’ve decided to turn off my computer. From Sunday morning until I get home from work Monday night, the computer will be off. Usually during that time, while I’m awake, I’m checking my email hourly or looking up stuff on IMDb. But starting today, no more!
The reward should be two-fold. One, I should use just a wee less electricity each month. Two, I should find something else to do with my time. Don’t get me wrong, I will still be watching a lot of movies – that’s what I do – but I will hopefully fill some of the void with more writing, more reading of books, more listening to music. More thinking, really.
It’s like kicking away one’s crutches, but I think I’ll be fine.
Christmas Is Not My Bag
I haven’t celebrated Christmas for sixteen years. I haven’t wanted to for more than I can remember. Growing up in an ostensibly Christian family, however, it was hard to avoid as a child. In my house, for me, Christmas was veritable torture. Oh sure, I got presents, and we had a big party, and I got two weeks off from school which allowed me to spend a whole week with my mom.
It started with putting up the tree. The task of decorating was left to my sister and me, and it just wasn’t something I liked to do. Christmas decorations don’t appeal to me aesthetically, and it only seemed like another chore. Luckily, most of the gift shopping was done by my step-mother, but I still had to wrap everything. Wrapping presents itself is pretty enjoyable; seeing all the meaningless gifts we were giving to people was disheartening. I know people who buy Christmas gifts early in the year, generic gifts for no one in particular, but knowing they were going to have a list later – these are gifts I want nothing to do with.
On Christmas Eve, preparations started early in the day. Pack up the gifts for the extended family, finish baking cookies and other goodies, wash up and get hair put in rollers, get dressed and go to church for the twilight service. None of this was especially gruelling. And the party after church at my grandparents’ house was always much fun. Good food, fun with my cousins, warmth from the fireplace, more presents. It was great, at least until I was a preteen. Then, because I was a girl, I was made to help all the women clean up at the end of the festivities. None of my girl cousins had to help – their mother wanted them to have fun. I was resentful.
Things got worse for me around 14. It was about that time I realized I didn’t (still don’t) believe in Christ as our savior. What had become more chore than joyous occasion had now become completely meaningless. I’m not the type to make waves, so I kept my thoughts to myself, and I went through the motions. It ate at me, though, because I really don’t think it’s right for someone to celebrate or observe a holiday that is not “theirs” (I struggle with this on Halloween, my second favorite holiday).
As time goes by, it’s not only the spiritual disconnect that makes me dislike Christmas. The crass commercialization of an event that is supposed to be (for some) the defining moment for a whole religion is revolting. The Christians who are mortally offended by atheist placards should be burning down shopping malls for desecrating the image and symbolism of their savior. And why aren’t they? Because they like to get the latest gadgets wrapped in red and green, too, I guess. F-ing hypocrites.
Christmas, like Easter, was created by Romans to trick pagans into converting to Christianity. I’m neither a Christian nor a pagan, so I think I’ll stay out it.
Gulp
For all you old-schoolers, please read the title of this entry in the style of a Quake drowning.
Time has escaped me, which is really rather frightening.
I’m trying to finish my mini-comic this week for my Autobigraphy and Comic Books class I’m taking. We’re supposed to try to have a finished product to show the class on Saturday, which is our final meeting, and I’m still in the “storyboard” stage. So I must buckle down and get something done.
So it’s back under my rock. See you all soon!
Anonymous no more
During my sophomore and junior years at Southwest High School, a handful of friends and I published a ‘zine before we even knew what a ‘zine was. We called it an underground newspaper, and we dubbed it Anonymous! We vowed to each other that we would not reveal to anyone outside the publication our involvement.
Initially, it was just my friend Angela and me, and we wrote in several personas in order to make it appear more people were on staff. Over time, a few more people figured out what we were doing and joined in. We didn’t talk about it explicitly at school, and denied it ferociously if questioned. In fact, I had one friend and reader who was so obsessed with getting me to admit I had a part in it, that he eventually became my stalker, even after I moved to New York for college. The front page of the first farewell issue was directed toward him.
The first issues were photocopied at the Boy Scout office during Angela’s brother’s meetings. Later, one of our teachers offered, hypothetically of course, to make copies for us in the teachers’ lounge on the sly. We had other support among the teaching staff, mostly of the moral kind. At some point, we were also noticed by the head honchos, and we had to find another copy source. My mom was gracious enough to take up the challenge, and we mailed off our mock-ups 250 miles away to Houston for printing.
We closed up shop when half the staff graduated and Angela and I lost interest in each other. It was a lot of fun while it lasted. The most amazing thing about it was that we had an actual readership and subscribers, even.
Recently, I was reunited with all the issues of Anonymous!, thanks to my wonderful mother, who had been keeping them safe and well-archived for all these years. And now, for the first time since 1991, they are available for public consumption. I make no claims as to the quality – some are really quite bad in fact – but I think it is a neat piece of nostalgia. Keeping true to the name, we never claimed ownership of any of our original writing. If we did put a name to it, it was a pseudonym, mainly to keep up appearances of having more people on staff than actuality. Some of the pieces I know for certain were written by me, others I’m not so sure.
Now, seventeen years later, I reveal my fellow staffmembers (those that I can remember, anyway), in no particular order: myself, Angela C., Sean S., George P., Gabriel B.
I apologize to anyone I forgot, and to those I remember (in the event they still don’t want to claim involvement) .
And without further ado, I give to you Anonymous!