Month: January 2017

So much no

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I try to keep this blog free of real things that bother me.  I mean, I certainly complain about stuff, but I don’t get into serious issues.  I don’t plan to, either.  I spend all day reading the news and talking about the god-awful things that are going on, and the last thing I want to do is write about them.

I’m angry, I’m sad, and I’m scared, and I DON’T want to talk about it.  I want to hide and wake up from this terrible dream.

I won’t hide, and I will do something.  I donated to the ACLU, I’ll be donating to other organizations, I’m calling my congresspeople daily, and I’ll continue to go to protests and otherwise get involved locally.  I’m thinking about other things I can do.

In the meantime, I want to stay light here.  It’s a nice distraction, but there are days I just can’t.

Like today.  I just can’t.

Protest

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Right about noon today, I glanced out the window and saw two women walk by with cardboard signs.  One said something about diversity (I don’t remember exactly what).  I couldn’t see the other one.

“Hey, John, did you hear anything about a protest today?”  “No.”  I had already checked to see if the Eugene airport is international (it’s not).  Google to the rescue!

The rally was at the federal courthouse (same place the Women’s March started), and we were already planning to head that way on our walk to lunch, so we checked it out.

LOTS of people.  Maybe 1000?  Maybe more.  Signs, chanting, someone with a bullhorn in the front, immigrants telling stories, and a guy with a competing bullhorn in the back leading more chanting.  It was heartening.

(My favorite sign this time just said “This is bullshit.”)

Maybe rallies and protests will be a regular thing now.  I want the momentum to keep up.  I wish it didn’t have to.

Highly unlikely

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For about a day, I seriously considered doing this challenge: sending something in the mail to someone every day during the month of February.  It can be a note, a letter, a postcard, or whatever, as long as it goes in the mail.  I went so far as planning to shop this weekend to buy supplies like stamps and postcards.

But then, I remembered that we don’t have a mailbox.  We have a mail slot next to the front door and no way to put mail out for pickup here at the house.

I think it’s a really nice idea, but I am LAZY.  There is no way I’m going to go outside and walk to the nearest mailbox (which I think is six blocks away) every single day of FEBRUARY, a month that always has the WORST weather.

If I remember, I’ll try it out next time we live somewhere with a mailbox.  Or maybe here, but when the weather is nicer.

It’s a little weird to talk about books in a grocery store

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I told you about reading that book club book in a handful of hours so I could be ready to talk about it with a room full of strangers I only found out existed the day before, but then I didn’t actually tell you about that room full of strangers who possibly only began to exist when I walked in the door.  (Who’s to say?)

They meet in a meeting room on the upper floor of a fancy grocery store, and when I walked in there were about a dozen women of various ages (mostly old-ish) sitting around a big table in the middle of the room.  There were a couple other people at other tables, but I figured I’d found my group.  Plus there were a bunch of books on the table.  So, being my father’s daughter, I walked over and said, “Judging by the pile of books, am I right in assuming this is the book club?”  They didn’t kick me out.  Can’t trust their judgment.

This is a group of Very Serious Readers.  Most enjoyed the book, thought it was a nice book to read over the holidays, but they also almost unanimously dismissed it in some way as a pile of fluff.  They read Literary Fiction for Very Serious Readers, or so it seems.  Or maybe it’s mostly Depressing Fiction for Very Serious Readers.  (I think it’s fair to say that those two categories overlap.)

Maybe I’m wrong (I’m probably wrong).  Maybe I’m jumping to conclusions (I’m definitely jumping to conclusions).  They were all very nice, certainly.  Maybe three of them were younger than me, but over 30.  And in great contrast to my last book club, they’re not one big group of friends.  There are probably a couple of pairs of friends, but the rest appear to be strangers who found each other online with the express purpose of starting a book club.  They (we) met in a public place, talked about the book, decided on the next month’s book, and got out, all in about an hour.  (It was great.)  No stress about house-cleaning, or buying enough wine for 15, or planning food because they’re all coming to your house to judge YOUR BOOK which most of them DIDN’T READ, no, I’m not still defensive about the one time I hosted book club, why do you ask?

Not it

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No jury duty today!  On the one hand, I’m happy because I don’t have to disrupt my life for it.  (Where “disrupt” means what?  Not work for the day?  I probably could have handled that.)  On the other hand, I’ve never done it, and I might enjoy it.  I’ve never even gone to the courthouse to possibly get chosen for one.  I’ve only been summoned twice, and both times I’ve found out the night before that I don’t have to go.  Maybe next time.  I do think it’s a little weird that I got one summons in VA over the course of 12 years and then got my OR summons in less than a year.

I did decide to put my “I can’t focus on work” minutes to learning ukulele chords instead of playing sudoku online.  If I just do that for a few minutes every day, I might actually be able to play a song without fumbling through chord changes one of these days.  I will consider that a major accomplishment.  The next step will be singing and playing at the same time (!).

Doing it during the work day, using time I wasn’t working anyway (everyone needs a break!), makes me happy.  Banjos might sound happier than ukuleles, but I think it’s a close race.

I refuse to let it get to me

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I feel like people have been asking me questions I can’t answer for the last two days.  At work, I mean, not personally.  That’s not to say that I’m capable of answering every question ANYone asks me, but the lack of answers at work (and the expectation that I would know the answers or that it’s my responsibility to find them out) is weighing on me.  (The feeling of helplessness about the world is part of it, I’m sure.)

Last night’s yoga class was good, totally unlike the one the night before.  This one was more active, more challenging.  It kept my brain focused on my form (and on not falling over).  Today I didn’t get to do yoga, but I did ride, and for that hour or so, again, I was focused on what I was doing (and not falling off).  I had to deal with a stubborn horse who didn’t want to get caught, and then didn’t want to slow down when I asked, and then didn’t want to go in the direction I wanted to go in.  It was good – I learned more about how to be the boss when the horse decides he knows better – and it took me out of myself.

And then I got home, found out I don’t have jury duty tomorrow, watched the end of Broadchurch season two, and sat down to a blank computer screen with no idea what I was going to write and no ideas.

And now I’m here.  Less depressing tomorrow?  Sure!

Do something else

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Things I should be doing:

  1. Working, because that’s what I get paid to do and it’s the middle of the day (or it was when I wrote this).

Things I should be doing that will make me feel better:

  1. Looking for a new job.
  2. Reading my book. Sadly, this one doesn’t belong on this list right now.  Reading this particular book does NOT make me feel better.  It’s depressing, which is sometimes okay (memoir, sucky childhood), but it’s also not written very well.  I should probably put it down.
  3. Re-learning how to play my ukulele.
  4. Taking a walk.

More harm than good

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Today’s yoga class was terrible.  Maybe I should rephrase that.  I was terrible in today’s yoga class.  It was a relax and restore class, which mostly involved lying down and breathing, and I sucked at it. It’s not like I haven’t had plenty of practice lately.  I’ve gone to seven yoga classes in the last twelve days, and each one has been really great except for today’s.

I couldn’t get comfortable.  I was always aware of some muscle strain or of the side of my foot pressing too hard into the mat, and I couldn’t turn my brain off.  I’m hungry, I have to pee, ooh there’s a train, I’m cold, I’m hot, that guy over there is breathing really loudly, I don’t see the point of doing tree pose while lying down, how do people sit cross-legged for this long, I hope no one heard my stomach grumble just now, seriously why is that guy vocalizing his exhale?

I actually considered leaving about halfway through because I didn’t feel like I was getting anything out of it, and in fact, it was stressing me out a bit.

I’m counting on this being a fluke and getting my yoga groove back next time I go.

Women’s March

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Over 7,000 people marched in Eugene today, me and John and Christina included, in solidarity with people all over the country and the world. There was chanting (“This is what democracy looks like” and “My body, my choice, her body, her choice” and others), a drumline, lots of signs, and a ton of rain.  Supposedly there were speakers, too, but we didn’t see or hear any of them.  Just a lot of friendly people walking together, bumping into each other and apologizing constantly.  No violence, no threats, no crime. (Okay, the newspaper said there was one graffiti incident.)

I don’t have anything profound to say here, not least because it would be in violation of my mission statement.  I’m just glad we went.

NOPE

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No.  Uh uh.  Not gonna do it.

Look, a puppy cam! Gosh, they’re cute. But now they’re napping.

Ooh! Donkey cam! That’s fun, but they’re not really doing anything.

Holy shit, penguin cam!

Maybe today’s not so bad after all.  For those of you not into live-streaming animals, have some random adorable pictures from the internet instead:

You’re welcome.

Moving on up

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Guys, I jumped over 2 feet today! Well, the horse did, but I stayed on! Things are progressing on that front.

The jump looked like this, but not as fancy (there’s not much fancy at this place):

I have no idea if Tigger and I look like that horse and girl. We probably don’t look that cool. And actually, that might be higher than 2 feet, so you know? I probably don’t look anything like that.

I got a glimpse of my future today, too. I shared my lesson with Daisy, a 14-year-old who has been riding for half her life. (I don’t think becoming a 14-year-old is in my future.) We were basically doing the same things, but she was doing them better, faster, and then Wendy had her jump the same course WITHOUT STIRRUPS. What kind of leg muscles do you have to have to canter a course of eight 2-feet jumps without anything to brace your feet?

Someday.

Utter nonsense

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Dove Promises: cute little bites of chocolate with messages hidden for you inside the wrappers. Usually, I like the messages. “Why not?” “Build a bridge…with chocolate.” “Ignore the clock.” At worst, they’re dumb. (At best, they’re dumb, but I take amusement where I can get it.)

Today, though, I read one that went too far.

“Read the last page first.”

What? Why? What kind of monster would do that? Do you watch the end of movies first? Watch the series finale of a show with no context? Listen to the last 10 seconds of a song and then go back to the beginning?  You’re probably the type of person who finds all of your hidden birthday presents before they’re wrapped, steals candy from babies, and reads spoilers for movies and shows and SHARES THEM WITH OTHERS.

Not cool, bro.

I did it!

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I finished The Storied Life of A.J. Fikry this morning, and I am ready to go to my new book club tomorrow evening.  It was a nice book, sweet, about nice people and a bookshop.  What’s not to like?  After I finished that, I finished Abaddon’s Gate (the book I kept putting aside, through no fault of its own – it was very good), and then I started Court of Fives.  I did all of that before noon today (while hanging out at a coffee shop I can walk to from the house), and then I went to the grocery store, read a bit more at home, ran outside for the first time in 5 weeks, and now I’m making a sweet potato pie to take to Wendy (riding instructor) like I promised I would back at the holiday party.

It has been a very productive day off.

Read like the wind

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I saw a flyer today for a book club called Eugene Book Talk that meets once a month.  The flyer was old (the books were for October and November), but I’ve read one of them (The Snow Child) and liked it, so that’s a good sign.  On impulse, I emailed them right then and there, and the person running the account (no name except for the name of the book club) responded right away. S/He said they’re still active, and since they couldn’t meet in December, they’re meeting this Tuesday to discuss The Storied Life of A.J. Fikry.

I looked it up, downloaded the sample, enjoyed the first couple of pages, and now I have a mission.  I put aside the book I’m in the middle of (again – I put it aside for Temeraire book 8 when the library e-book became available), and now I have 49.5 hours (from right now) to read the whole thing.

It’s a good thing I don’t have to work tomorrow.  If it’s interesting enough, I think I’ll make it.  THEN we’ll see how I feel about joining a book club again.

Robin McKinley’s blog takes work to read and I love it

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I love Robin McKinley.  I’ve read 90% of what she’s written, and the only book I didn’t love without reservation was Sherwood, her take on Robin Hood.  Mostly, she writes her own versions of fairy tales (she’s written two very different versions of Beauty and the Beast) and folk tales, but she’s written non-fairy tale books (still fantasy) and short stories and it’s all so good!

Then I found out she has a blog!  How wonderful!  And…it is, but I’m pretty sure I only think so because I already love her.  For someone who likes her okay or is more indifferent than that, I think the way she formats her blog posts would come across less whimsically challenging and more hell-no-what-a-pain-in-the-ass-I’m-not-reading-this. Of course, that person probably wouldn’t be interested in her blog regardless of her footnote formatting, so it doesn’t really matter.

See for yourself.  Footnotes within footnotes within footnotes.  Because I love her already, and I like puzzles, and I like footnotes, I think it’s great.  And I get sentences like “There are some vaguely luminescent white stripes in approximately the area where you might have expected a tab, but these are a snare and a delusion.” in a funny post about trying to open a package.

I need to find a way to work “but these are a snare and a delusion” into normal conversations.

Not even going to try full wheel

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I think I wrote before about trying the yoga class my gym offers and not being all that crazy about it.  I decided this week (after that stressful interlude with a coworker that didn’t last more than an hour but STILL – it was stressful) that I need to find a yoga class I like.  Luckily for me, we live three and a half blocks from a yoga studio with reasonably priced classes.

The assumption for last night’s class was that I had some yoga experience, which I do, even if it’s several years in the past.  I figured I’d just do what I could and rest when I needed to.  I was mostly able to keep up, but HOO BOY am I sore now.  I am hyper-aware of every muscle in my back, but I liked it, I felt comfortable there, and I will go back.

We arranged our mats in a circle, facing in, which was different for me.  The other major difference was the total lack of mirrors.  Want to check your position in the mirror?  No, sorry.  See if stretching all the way out in Warrior II makes you look thinner?  Assume it does and move on, please.  Surreptitiously stare at the amazingly flexible lady across the room?  NOPE. You have to actually stare at her because she’s across the circle staring at YOU, probably judging you for not being able to hold Half Moon for more than two seconds without falling over.  Good thing she doesn’t know you can’t even touch your toes…

Acclimating

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Things I don’t think of as weird anymore:

  • Hitchhikers.  I rarely saw hitchhikers on the east coast, but since we came out here, I see them everywhere (including one today).
  • I nodded hello to the turkey when I got out of the car after my riding lesson and then threatened to smack him with the broom if he poops on our porch again (today).  Mixed messages, I know.
  • Train whistles at all hours of the day and night (including as I was typing this just now).
  • The smell of pot that appears EVERYWHERE and at random times (like on my walk back from a yoga class today).

I probably wouldn’t have thought to even mention any of that, except I had a conversation today with a coworker about where we live now and wow, that must be different, and hey, is everybody high all the time?  Differences were on my mind.

All you need is a book return

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I learned a super exciting thing about our library today: it has a drive-thru book return in the alley!

Seriously, it made my day.  My books were due today, I was trying to get to an appointment on time, there was no parking in front of the library, and it was raining.  A drive-thru book return was exactly what I needed.

Day saved.

My mantra

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I am not going to let work get to me.

I am not going to let work get to me.

I am not going to let –

Good news!  Someone at work who I like but was having a problem with (the reason for the mantra) also thought she and I might be having a problem, but she responded to my olive branch (which was being ignored when I started this post), and it turns out we don’t have a problem.  Communication is a wonderful thing, although it helps that she and I are both eminently reasonable people* who agree on most things because if it had been someone else, that person and I probably would still have a problem.

But we don’t!  All is well.

*Modest, too.

Coincidentally (or not, since maybe that’s why mantras are on the brain), I’m thinking about trying a new yoga class.  Maybe tomorrow.