I have a feeling some of you would like the superfood scone recipe. So I'll add that sometime.
And I think I am developing/already have some repetitive stress injury, a la carpal tunnel, blah blah. My hands and arms and shoulders hurt, ache, burn, go numb, get super cold (it's a symptom, apparently) ... so far it's nothing big, in terms of filing, and I'm really careful with documentation when I feel like it, so I'm being careful.
Man, what does this all mean? Braces? Massage (I want to call it 'court-mandated massage')? Anything at all?
I guess I should start with seeing a doctor ...
26 August 2008
25 August 2008
Superfood Scones Again
Hello, world. I'm still here.
I have some superfood scones baking. They're vegan, banana, walnut, dried blueberry, and whole wheat pastry flour scones.
This is a bad sign--not because they're vegan, or so superfood-ish. Bad sign because I'm not working.
I'm finishing up that 712 page book at work, and ... it just doesn't end. For any other book, it would be reasonable to end at 400 pages. So it is, often, quite literally twice as long as I imagine it will be. Well, it goes to the printer on Friday, and it will be gone from me then, for real. Even if I don't catch all the errors. It will go away.
Noah's home. He started school today, wahoo, send him your wishes for passing Japanese III. He's totally capable of passing (Hi Noah! I love you!), but you know, taking other classes gets in the way of his excellence at all things.
I made frozen yogurt with Fage Greek yogurt, which has, as its main ingredients, whole milk and butterfat, and yes, it was decadent and tasted a lot like frozen cheesecake filling. I don't want to think about it too much, so the cravings don't come back.
And in the middle of this work, this Noah, this cooking/eating, are other things: the secret book review I guiltily neglect; the proofreading I did for a freelance client at the last minute; the desperate urge to be in the ceramics lab making flat/gently curving things; the cats; the laundry; the health freak outs like, "Am I jaundiced right now? Am I about to faint? Am I so overstimulated that I really just spent five minutes, in the shower, doing nothing but letting the water hit under my fingernails?"; and yes, the scones. And a visit from a longtime friend and her husband-dude this weekend, and a possible drop-in from another longtime friend, and ... me. Wanting to be anywhere else, maybe a field, maybe a river bank, maybe the cloisters from my old church, in the middle of the afternoon, when no one was there, looking out the mid-century stained glass blocks, feeling the stone stay cold.
Oh and I'm reading William Gibson novels obsessively.
How're you?
I have some superfood scones baking. They're vegan, banana, walnut, dried blueberry, and whole wheat pastry flour scones.
This is a bad sign--not because they're vegan, or so superfood-ish. Bad sign because I'm not working.
I'm finishing up that 712 page book at work, and ... it just doesn't end. For any other book, it would be reasonable to end at 400 pages. So it is, often, quite literally twice as long as I imagine it will be. Well, it goes to the printer on Friday, and it will be gone from me then, for real. Even if I don't catch all the errors. It will go away.
Noah's home. He started school today, wahoo, send him your wishes for passing Japanese III. He's totally capable of passing (Hi Noah! I love you!), but you know, taking other classes gets in the way of his excellence at all things.
I made frozen yogurt with Fage Greek yogurt, which has, as its main ingredients, whole milk and butterfat, and yes, it was decadent and tasted a lot like frozen cheesecake filling. I don't want to think about it too much, so the cravings don't come back.
And in the middle of this work, this Noah, this cooking/eating, are other things: the secret book review I guiltily neglect; the proofreading I did for a freelance client at the last minute; the desperate urge to be in the ceramics lab making flat/gently curving things; the cats; the laundry; the health freak outs like, "Am I jaundiced right now? Am I about to faint? Am I so overstimulated that I really just spent five minutes, in the shower, doing nothing but letting the water hit under my fingernails?"; and yes, the scones. And a visit from a longtime friend and her husband-dude this weekend, and a possible drop-in from another longtime friend, and ... me. Wanting to be anywhere else, maybe a field, maybe a river bank, maybe the cloisters from my old church, in the middle of the afternoon, when no one was there, looking out the mid-century stained glass blocks, feeling the stone stay cold.
Oh and I'm reading William Gibson novels obsessively.
How're you?
07 August 2008
Things I Am Learning
--Capitalization rules according to CMS 15.
--I love feisty older women. Older = 60s and beyond. One is a coworker, who I did not love for some time, but then came to love once she called the book's author "a fussy ass." Other examples: my great-grandmother Nana, who died at 98 with a perm still in her hair, still caring; my best boss ever Vera in the RV park, who cut her own hair, could burn you in your place with her eyes, and drove me the whole two blocks to the cafeteria after I sprained my ankle.
--My older cat hates vacuums, but not as much as the younger, and this difference of hate carries over to lots of things: car noise; thunder storms; my absence.
--Looking stylish is not so much about looking good all the time; it's more like something large about you looks good right then. This is different than "being stylish" which can only be observed over time. Looking stylish can be achieved by wearing great heels, combing your hair that morning, and walking really fast. If you followed my inner monologue at work, you'd agree. All these stylish people, walking so fast in heels.
--I smell different in summer.
--When all my friends at work are gone, work is really lonely, and my people-watching and daydreaming increases tenfold. It isn't a large company, so the people-watching is limited; the daydreaming feels unlimited, but since I think and work in fifteen-minute increments on my timesheet, I can feel the reasonable limit of daydreaming approach.
--Maybe you didn't know this about me, but I'm a third-wave feminist, and so is Liz Phair.
--I love feisty older women. Older = 60s and beyond. One is a coworker, who I did not love for some time, but then came to love once she called the book's author "a fussy ass." Other examples: my great-grandmother Nana, who died at 98 with a perm still in her hair, still caring; my best boss ever Vera in the RV park, who cut her own hair, could burn you in your place with her eyes, and drove me the whole two blocks to the cafeteria after I sprained my ankle.
--My older cat hates vacuums, but not as much as the younger, and this difference of hate carries over to lots of things: car noise; thunder storms; my absence.
--Looking stylish is not so much about looking good all the time; it's more like something large about you looks good right then. This is different than "being stylish" which can only be observed over time. Looking stylish can be achieved by wearing great heels, combing your hair that morning, and walking really fast. If you followed my inner monologue at work, you'd agree. All these stylish people, walking so fast in heels.
--I smell different in summer.
--When all my friends at work are gone, work is really lonely, and my people-watching and daydreaming increases tenfold. It isn't a large company, so the people-watching is limited; the daydreaming feels unlimited, but since I think and work in fifteen-minute increments on my timesheet, I can feel the reasonable limit of daydreaming approach.
--Maybe you didn't know this about me, but I'm a third-wave feminist, and so is Liz Phair.
06 August 2008
Dad, Do You Hate the Comment Function?
I'll copy his thoughts here:
Ways I'd Really Like to Kill Mold
1.) with vodka, both for me and for the mold--vodka's like bleach,
right?
....good idea....wouldn't it be expensive?
2.) with sound, I'm thinking death metal
3.) with love: "Can't we live in harmony? I love you in cheese!"
Good luck with that....evil does not respond too well to this approach.
4.) by growing mushrooms, to encourage jealousy and rivalry, with hopes
the mold would lose to the mushrooms in some kind of fungi-bacteria-all
tiny things war
5.) with ground-up penicillin scattered about
6.) by burning lavender-scented candles
7.) by wishing really hard
Always a good idea....
8.) by donating to NPR, in a kind of karmic way
Sure...NPR can use the money..
9.) by talking trash about it (not working yet)
Always take out your trash....
and 10.) ... by doing nothing at all
This method will NOT get rid of mold.
Thanks, Dad. What if I threaten it with bullets?
Ways I'd Really Like to Kill Mold
1.) with vodka, both for me and for the mold--vodka's like bleach,
right?
....good idea....wouldn't it be expensive?
2.) with sound, I'm thinking death metal
3.) with love: "Can't we live in harmony? I love you in cheese!"
Good luck with that....evil does not respond too well to this approach.
4.) by growing mushrooms, to encourage jealousy and rivalry, with hopes
the mold would lose to the mushrooms in some kind of fungi-bacteria-all
tiny things war
5.) with ground-up penicillin scattered about
6.) by burning lavender-scented candles
7.) by wishing really hard
Always a good idea....
8.) by donating to NPR, in a kind of karmic way
Sure...NPR can use the money..
9.) by talking trash about it (not working yet)
Always take out your trash....
and 10.) ... by doing nothing at all
This method will NOT get rid of mold.
Thanks, Dad. What if I threaten it with bullets?
05 August 2008
A Very Disgusting Story
Mold of all kinds and I are locked in an epic battle. That isn't news. I come from a moldy part of the country, I live in a "garden-level" basement apartment, I am allergic to mold, and I love moldy cheese. That's just how things are.
Mold and my apartment love each other. They make out every day. It's disgusting. But that isn't the story.
The story is this: I have a portable dishwasher, and it is a handy appliance until it stops sucking water out of the sink's faucet and spraying it into the dishwasher body. A few weeks ago, I loaded it with dishes that had been carefully rinsed, loaded my very-eco "biokleen" dish detergent that is only scented with grapefruit oil, and turned it on. It made a huge growling, churning sound, and I turned it off, saddened. It might not be dead, but it was not going to run that day.
Then I kind of forgot about it. And then remembered, put it off, remembered, left town for a week, remembered, and finally opened it.
I had forgotten that the dishwasher had pulled maybe two inches' worth of water into its main compartment.
And so there was mold. Mold growing on the dishes (green), mold growing in the water at the bottom. Mold mold mold. I washed three loads of dishes with more hot water and more soap than I have ever used on dishes ever, ever; I found places to dry them; I realized I needed to get the water out of the bottom, but how to do that? I tried mopping it out: let the mop head soak up some water; squeeze it out in the sink; repeat. Then, since it has wheels and I have a patio/pit thing, I rolled it outside and tilted the whole thing forward, letting the mold water run out. At 1:30am.
After I finished treating the inevitable hives and sinus freak-out, I resolved to 1) do dishes every day and 2) figure out how to fight mold for real. Apparently running the air conditioning helps, so the internet says, especially in a tightly-sealed apartment, which I do indeed have. Drying wet things helps, cleaning helps, bleach, soap, on and on.
I've also been feeling really dizzy for the last few days, and I think it's an allergy thing maybe mixed with a med side effect, and I'm hoping that less mold will help allergies go away. Maybe?
But to end the disgusting story with some glee:
Ways I'd Really Like to Kill Mold
1.) with vodka, both for me and for the mold--vodka's like bleach, right?
2.) with sound, I'm thinking death metal
3.) with love: "Can't we live in harmony? I love you in cheese!"
4.) by growing mushrooms, to encourage jealousy and rivalry, with hopes the mold would lose to the mushrooms in some kind of fungi-bacteria-all tiny things war
5.) with ground-up penicillin scattered about
6.) by burning lavender-scented candles
7.) by wishing really hard
8.) by donating to NPR, in a kind of karmic way
9.) by talking trash about it (not working yet)
and 10.) ... by doing nothing at all.
Mold and my apartment love each other. They make out every day. It's disgusting. But that isn't the story.
The story is this: I have a portable dishwasher, and it is a handy appliance until it stops sucking water out of the sink's faucet and spraying it into the dishwasher body. A few weeks ago, I loaded it with dishes that had been carefully rinsed, loaded my very-eco "biokleen" dish detergent that is only scented with grapefruit oil, and turned it on. It made a huge growling, churning sound, and I turned it off, saddened. It might not be dead, but it was not going to run that day.
Then I kind of forgot about it. And then remembered, put it off, remembered, left town for a week, remembered, and finally opened it.
I had forgotten that the dishwasher had pulled maybe two inches' worth of water into its main compartment.
And so there was mold. Mold growing on the dishes (green), mold growing in the water at the bottom. Mold mold mold. I washed three loads of dishes with more hot water and more soap than I have ever used on dishes ever, ever; I found places to dry them; I realized I needed to get the water out of the bottom, but how to do that? I tried mopping it out: let the mop head soak up some water; squeeze it out in the sink; repeat. Then, since it has wheels and I have a patio/pit thing, I rolled it outside and tilted the whole thing forward, letting the mold water run out. At 1:30am.
After I finished treating the inevitable hives and sinus freak-out, I resolved to 1) do dishes every day and 2) figure out how to fight mold for real. Apparently running the air conditioning helps, so the internet says, especially in a tightly-sealed apartment, which I do indeed have. Drying wet things helps, cleaning helps, bleach, soap, on and on.
I've also been feeling really dizzy for the last few days, and I think it's an allergy thing maybe mixed with a med side effect, and I'm hoping that less mold will help allergies go away. Maybe?
But to end the disgusting story with some glee:
Ways I'd Really Like to Kill Mold
1.) with vodka, both for me and for the mold--vodka's like bleach, right?
2.) with sound, I'm thinking death metal
3.) with love: "Can't we live in harmony? I love you in cheese!"
4.) by growing mushrooms, to encourage jealousy and rivalry, with hopes the mold would lose to the mushrooms in some kind of fungi-bacteria-all tiny things war
5.) with ground-up penicillin scattered about
6.) by burning lavender-scented candles
7.) by wishing really hard
8.) by donating to NPR, in a kind of karmic way
9.) by talking trash about it (not working yet)
and 10.) ... by doing nothing at all.
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