all that filibluster, and then. . .

NOTHING! we sat around watching back issues of "the boondocks" and drinking beers. there were like three of us. why, when i turned twenny. . .i. . .um. . .did even less. but hey, i lived at my parents house. so probly i had a some sort of righteous "foodstuffs" and a baked cheesecake. (this in contrast to the one whose recipe--some sorta "no bake cheesecake"--is often on the back of "philadelphia brand cream cheese".) it was, however, easy to get to sleep, cos all the kids went home at like ten. I THOUGHT YOUNG 'UNS WERE SPOSETA PARTY LIKE ROCK STARS!!!! guess i was "noncorrect".

trivia last night. . .apparently there's some sort of reason why "trivial" means, actually, "whole types of useless". but fun. there were a) lots of people who b) knew each other, which makes me way "disuncomfortational" cos i knew, precisely, 1.35 other people in the joint. one was the friend by whom i had been coerced into joining said soiree, .25 was the erstwhile booker of a club inside which an old band i was in oncetuponatime useta play and .1 was this girl whose two wheeled bicycle i may or may not have fixed, but whom i remembered from some sort of "interactation" at my bicycle related job in the past 1-22.5 weeks, who "concidentationally" was one of our "teamsters". i did, "contrarian" to what i may appear to have felt, have fun. my friend and i "slayed" the music section and i "rocked" some "correctational" answers in the geography "biz". our other "teamsters" didn't know where kamchakta is and thought pink floyd's "money" was actually the theme song from "where the wild things is". none of my fellow "teamsters" had heard of chad ocho cinco and I TOTALLY KNOW WHO HE IS!!!!! this all boosted my ego precisely 3.8%. at the end of the evening i was so confident in my "biz" that i told my friend if she wanted to "do something" (my actual words. ach.) on sunday, we probly could. she said she "might be sleeping". i think what she really wanted to do was sing to me cheap trick's power anthem "i want you to want me". i can tell this cos she followed up her comment with a quick "exeunt" and then called in sick to work today. and y'all knows't dat means.

the big 2-0

my roommate is twenty today. this makes me feel OLD. not cos i am, but cos reminders of others' comparative youth. . .um. . .remind me that i'm no longer "young"? hm. anyway, it's cool for him cos NOW HE'S NO LONGER A TEENAGER. i remember how sweet a realisation that was. (though it was tempered by the fact that i was pushing carts in the safeway that day, which most kids in their early twenties tend not to do. whatever.) there will be an attendant party at our house tonight. this, of course, makes me pretty frightened, cos parties make me pretty frightened. all those people tryna impress each other, drinking like the fishes, i don't know. at least i know how to close my door when i go to bed.

in other news, i'm going to a bar with a girl tomorrow night. this is way surprising. in full disclosure, it's for trivia night and there will be other people on our team and it's not actually a date, but i'm a bit shaky. THIS DOESN'T HAPPEN TO ME VERY OFTEN. actually, this sort of thing has happened exactly ONCE before. hm. last time this sort of thing happened, the agreement was worked out in this fashion: female skier person says, "wanna go for a drink?" and i says, "you buyin? all the money i had till it snows i put in my gas tank to get up here." notice the confidence on my part, not afraid to tell her i'm flat broke. i'm sure that meant something to her. i know this cos THE RELATIONSHIP LASTED AS LONG AS THE HINDENBURG.

in other other news, i landed with my hip on a four inch root yesterday while falling on my bike. i could barely walk this morning, and i thought i'd be all hobbled and ready for some sympathy, but now it barely hurts and THERE'S NARY A BRUISE AS EVIDENCE! HOW CAN I SOLICIT SYMPATHY WITHOUT EVEN A BRUISE?? AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA.

anyway. ima check my, um, checking account, see if i'm broke. peace.

Who IS this guy, Anon?

I've always wondered why people are so willing to "speak out", as seems prevalent today, but are reluctant to leave a trail of bread-crumbs from the speaking out back to right where they're standing at the moment. So they put on this veil of secrecy and just sign their comments "Anonymous."

Now a manuscript -- words or music -- that has gotten separated from the author/composer is usually attributed to "Anon", and that's okay. But to always want to stay incognito shuts off inquiries, conversation, and perhaps compliments.

Contributed by The Shadow Knows.......

(If YOU'VE a response, send it by plain wrapper to The Shadow, c/o General Delivery, USPS)

TGIF ! ! !

That used to mean something -- as in "thank goodness it's Friday!" -- when I was a working woman.

Whoa! It's SATURDAY! Which shows to go you that one day isn't a whole lot different from another to me now.

But even THAT is inaccurate. Today is the day that the kids and grand-munchkins MIGHT come over (always a storm blowing in and out, and everyone talking at once. Does anyone LISTEN anymore?)

Today is the day I need to put final touches on my part of the church service tomorrow, and pray about it.

Today is the day I promised to watch disc one of a two-disc documentary titled Walking the Great Divide, showing the Continental Divide Walking Trail from Canada to Mexico. (What a glorious country we live in.) Watched the New Mexico portion over my french toast this morning, and was captivated by the stories of "trail angels", folks who live in the little towns along the trail who open their hearts and front porches and HOMES to hikers along the trail. (All ineligible to become hermits.)

And I guess most importantly, "today is the day the Lord hath made."

it isn't hermitude, only sanity

I don't like weddings either, but I guess I don't like them because they are parties, which is exactly why many people like them who like them. Also they are ceremonies, and ditto, and ditto. I just feel a small quiet misery when invited to them because I know they are really happy things for many people and it is pretty much exactly the same as looking at something somebody else cooked and saying "you probably did an excellent job of this and I probably could NEVER make this dish but is there any way at all for me to get out of eating it without you noticing ?"



It is also entertaining how, if you just admit that weddings aren't really your thang although you aren't scathing (anymore) about marriage, how many people will STILL will go right ahead and show you some wedding pictures. Well if you do that, I am going to pull a bunch of chicken pictures out of my wallet, I am warning you. There will be no mints made out of toothpaste afterwards, either.



Portaging bicycles. Well I don't do that. My method is to continue riding, while weeping.

Facebook: what? I don't know anything about that. But if I did I am sure that I would agree at least 70 % with my fellow club member. This will be the last agreeing I do with anybody for a while as it is sort of creeping me out.

ach. weddings.

sunday was wedding day in fbc land. not sure why; i hate weddings. they claim to be expositions for people who've "found each other" and want to "share the love" when in reality they are simply another forum for people to brag about their "conquests" and show their "superiority" to us single folk. i'm told weddings and their corollary "receptions" are "great places for 'hooking up'" but to me they are great places to be TERRIBLY BORED AND UTTERLY DEPRESSED. i only attended this "wedding"--which, in comparison with the other weddings in my life, was oddly lacking in pomp and ceremony--as a gesture to an old friend. in the end i just felt like i wasted a beautiful day. hm.

in other news, after "rocking" a complaint about a chase billboard in which some random dude is portaging his mountain bike, i got a bit of "reverse comeuppance". quickly, at that. after heading to the elysian in tangletown for some righteous "nighthawk" pumpkin ale, which i drank like a fish, and fish and chips, i hadda head back home. up the backside of phinney ridge. which is WAY STEEP, if you din't know. like a 20% grade or 80%. about a third of the way up, when the grade really gets after it, i made like the hindenburg and BLEW THE (*&(* UP. hadda jump off and PORTAGE MY DAMN BICYCLE. it was embarrassing. i mean, it's one thing to pick my bike up and jump over a--to me--unrideable log ride, but another entirely to WALK UP A PAVED STREET. ach. serves me right. i still hate chase manhattan bank, though, in case you wondered.

good news of the week: i got new pedals. my life is complete. they're at least 50 grams lighter than my old ones, and they "thunk". by that i mean they ROCK HARDER THAN A MARSHALL HALF STACK AT "ELEVEN". watch out, ryan trebon.

Facewords on Pathbook

It's a bit hypnotic..... a word game on Facebook which I play 2-3 times a day, total 15 minutes. I play alone, tho I'm continually instructed to "invite my friends", who total 0 since I decided the social network was beneath a real Hermit. I haven't boosted my score of 760 one bit in the past month. At the end of each game, I'm told "Congratulations! You're number one among your friends, with a score of 760!" I'm also given the option to log out, play again, or "trash talk." Hm-m-m-m. So many choices; so little time.

The object is to find words in an ever shifting sea of letters. With each successful word, it shifts again. I don't know what dictionary they use, but they keep refusing "zen", which is a very popular word on TV decorator shows. And I keep finding "roe", although I'm pretty picky about what kind of fish eggs I consume. Sometimes my misspellings turn out to be real words, but my score stays at 760!

I heard somewhere that a REAL Scrabble Player/Champion studies dictionaries. They don't just browse them; they don't just read them; they STUDY them and TAKE NOTES. (They might make good Hermits!)

Under cover of bright sunshine

I let myself into church today (sh-h-h-h-h) to play the new (though borrowed) electric piano. Have been curious as to it's playability, sound, versatility -- yet shy (and here's where the hermit part comes in) about playing with humankind around to listen. Other than convincing me that acoustic pianos rock like the Hindenberg, my visit was uneventful. Another technical "wonder" bites the dust in my book. But I'm just one......

it's sunny out, not a "chase" billboard in sight.

last night i took half of my remaining fifteen dollars to buy a bomber of righteous "pike's brewery" 9% and a bag of "food that tastes good" tortilla chips and headed up to sunset hill to imbibe beer and sunset. it was a worthy expenditure. took me three hours to stop weaving as i walked, even after a solid omellette and shower. made the work week end as it should, in a haze as i sat on the "la-z-boy" watching "waiting for guffman" and barking like an elephant seal.

in other tangientially related news, two full weeks passed and i din't empty my checking account like i was an 19 year old with a new WAMU account. o, wait, that's now obsolete. speaking of THE MOST HORRIBLE BANK IN THE HISTORY OF "BANKS THAT TASTE HORRIBLE", CHASE, i'm ready to torch billboards and make hindenburgs of buses that advertise for the "manhattan of banks". the chase logo as the sun? "'helpful' banking is here and already the weather is clearing up"? a man in hiking boots with floppy laces PORTAGING HIS BICYCLE? though i try to rein in my vulgarity, i can only express myself one way: F^$* YOU PEOPLE! really, chase? you think we "outdoor snobs" can't "slay" our righteous local singletrack and so must PORTAGE OUR MOUTNAIN BIKES? you think the bloody CHASE LOGO is what makes willis wall in late summer so breathtaking? you think we in seattle (and surrounding pugetopolis) din't like WASHINGTON mutual? until kerry killinger came along, it was a LOCAL bank headquartered in SEATTLE. it was started in WASHINGTON. it had WASHINGTON in its name, NOT MANHATTAN. ('WAMU' was for me the death knell.) yes, 'wamu' was a willing and volumatic player in the great economic consumer bend-over of last october, but DO YOU REALLY THINK WE WANT YOUR NEW YORK SMUGNESS MASQUERADING AS "HELPFUL BANKING"? no, we do not. if i were to recommend a bank who'd "lose" money somewhere along the line from bike shop back to customer in a TWO MONTH LONG BATTLE TO RETURN A HUNDRED FIFTY BUCKS THAT RIGHTFULLY BELONGED IN THE CUSOTMER'S CHECKING ACCOUNT, it'd be chase. if i wanted a bank that reduces me to "coffee [and] salmon", it'd be chase. if i wanted to wake up every morning hating the people who held my money hostage, i'd definitely choose chase. seeing as i want ABSOLUTELY NONE OF THESE THINGS, i'll recommend a good doughnut shop. top pot "drops" some heavy old fashioneds that'd make admirable targets when ALL YOU CHASE NUTJOBS TAKE A FLYING F*^% AT A ROLLING DOUGHNUT.

ima go "rock" my bicycle. peace.

Trying fetchingly to get into the spirit of the site here and act like a hermit but I'll have to train myself to not speak to the check-out ladies and the carry-out kids and the mailman and my neighbor and my stuffed Wishbone. "Of course I can stop talking," said the turtle being rescued from a raging river by an eagle that extended a long stick to the turtle who grabbed it in his mouth and was hoisted above the torrent but he obviously didn't and therein lies a tale to discourage too much discourse.

I observed a sta-range tendency in myself today. I was watching a French film, The Gleaners, with English subtitles, and searched high and low for the remote to boost the volume of the dialog -- which I couldn't understand a word of ! When I discovered I was sitting on it, I was so relieved. Still couldn't understand a word!

doesn't want to get its hair wet? can only dog paddle?

Dude, that's sort of how I swim! Also how the giant in the movie "Princess Bride" swims.

Actually, this is a special fish trained to guide customers in canoes up rivers. In the next picture you can see it standing up to assess some falls/rapids, figuring out whether biped customers will have to portage the canoes around the rapids. "Hm...... hm....." (scratches its chin thoughtfully with creepy fish bristle whisker)

The handy thing about these trained fish canoe guides is that if you arrange to pay them at the end of trip, instead of the beginning, then you never actually have to hand over a whole 5 gallon bucket of live flies and maggots........ because on the last day, instead, you just hit your guide on the head with the paddle and then poach in tinfoil for 15 minutes. Do it outside so it doesn't stink up your kitchen.

Home at last!

How-w-w-w-w can it take longer to drive from SW Portland to north Vancouver than it takes to drive from north Vancouver to Olympia? Simple. Just do it on a Friday afternoon! Oh, Lordy Lordy, I didn't know there were that many cars in OREGON, let alone in Portland. Just before the 4 and 7 year olds began acting up (how much longer till we're there?) I felt like shrieking myself.

WHEN will we get out of our cars and onto bikes or trains or buses or whatever other options we have?

But the weather was great. The Huskies won. The grand-kids were wonderful, totally ignoring me and just enjoying each other. Nice to have someone else doing the cooking and baking. Now, late Sunday evening, with an empty refrigerator, I'm grateful there are 3 eggs to scramble and some crackers.

sunny sunday summer day.

i have less than $3 in my checking account. my credit card is maxed out (again, big surprise) and i have $7 in cash. i bought groceries this morning for the week--said expenditure caused said sub $3 balance--which brings today's quick story.
upon exiting the subaru (too lazy to walk or ride my bike for the moment) i noticed a moderately attractive woman carrying hipster-tight pants, bleached-out "nylon magazine blonde" hair and a zebra stripish tank of some sort that looked to maybe be missing something. at which point (it's hard for a single dude not to look) i noticed that she was PRACTICALLY FALLING OUT OF HER TOP. i would love to claim the moral high ground here and say that i forgot the show and went about my business, but alas, i cannot. in the produce i walked past as she sort of covered herself and she asked her eerily similarly dressed male counterpart--who looked like fabrizio morretti of the strokes circa 2002-- "is it falling out?" and he answered, without looking to her, "judging by the looks you're getting, i'd say it is". i had difficulty finding the mineolas at this point for my brain was clouded with the effort of not laughing. that and the juxtaposition of the woman's fashion problem and the shape of said mineolas. being of stern lutheran upbringing, i hafta question her choice of top for the day. given that she probly has other clothing, one might assume that her other clothing would contain more "family friendly" tops and that for a trip to ballard market she might employ one of these more tasteful options. alas, my stern prairie lutheran upbringing did not include "how to understand other people's logic" or "how to dress like a drunken nylon magazine model during a particularly grueling photo shoot when you are actually just buying wine and cheese and potatoes at a local grocer." too bad.

in other news, i think ima get hired by the NFL so i can, much like michael vick, "run amok with impunity." (to paraphrase riley freeman of "the boondocks".) i haven't figured out quite what sort of mayhem i'll curate, but rest assured, IT'LL MAKE THE HINDENBURG LOOK LIKE MICHAEL BOLTON ON QUAALUDES.
that is all.

i want to "rock" my bicycle.

last sunday i attempted to "drop" a 3-footer--if you've never "rocked" off road, this is considered "tame", though i consider it "massive"--out lake sawyerway. all was well and pretty good given the solid rain and my general offishness, but still, i should have had a good idea how the "drop" would go as i'd already fallen in spots i don't usually fall and had on multiple occasions been unable to pick up the front wheel. i approached said "drop" from the landing side, so it loomed positively mythical. my riding partner rolled over the "drop" as though it were a phinney ditch curb (as had my female coworker the day before) and i thought with ominous disclarity "i think i can". approaching the "drop", i felt okay, and proceeded to "rock" toward the takeoff. about 6 inches before the takeoff i performed a quick "hammer the brakes as hard as you can cos you're scared as heck" and did not manage to stop. i did manage to drive the front wheel off the "drop" at a precipitious "down angle" and followed my bike in a "superman style" that my riding buddy said was "pretty good" before "pancaking" to the dirt and splitting my lip. thinking that was it, i went about the rest of the ride and day feeling a bit smug about "biting the mud" and getting away with it. the next day i woke up with a righteous ache above my right lung and upon yawning found that it HURT LIKE THE HINDENBURG. sneezing also hurts, as does coughing. hm. this may be a lesson. it may also be a few more days before i "rock" my bicycle off road again. i'll admit to being "fluffy like a tutu".

the fbc dating school.

it'll start with gentle coaching. simple answers to questions.
"what are you up to today?" would be answered with "work".
"any plans for the weekend?": "gettin coffee and readin a book. ALONE."
"how ya feelin?": "eh."

i'll throw in thoughts about non-commital shrugs, cocky smirks and arrogant declamation techniques. thoughts on self-pity and destroying that pesky self-confidence.

i'll encourage students to forget about personal appearance and manners, and to be COMPLETELY SELF-CONSCIOUS ABOUT IT.

i'll give ideas for hobbies (that'll hopefully blossom into full-blown obsessions) such as solo backcountry skiing, solo mountain climbing, solo mountain biking and NEVER LEAVING THE HOUSE TO MEET PEOPLE.

i'll teach the mantra "i hate people" and we'll mutter it together, in separate rooms. when we've mastered this mantra, i'll add in another: "never let anyone in at any cost".

i'll lead students to jobs where they'll feel superior to their customers and where the only customer interaction will be to show said superiority. like a bike mechanic, messenger, auto mechanic, that sort of thing. social, engaging jobs like pumping coffee or tending bar will not be encouraged, unless the student is fully confident in his or her ability to remain at an absolute distance from EVERYONE.

i'll show how to recognise that there is never a good time to ask for a date unless the student is firmly "in the friend zone."

helpful refridgerator magnets: "do you REALLY know her?" "i bet he just acts interested. he's not." "what if she doesn't ski?" "you wouldn't ACTUALLY want to camp with this dude."

in just a few short sessions i'll have students repelling prospective "dates" LIKE THE HINDEBURG!

in other news, the library has been closed for a week. maybe every librarian in seattle forgot where "work" is.

what if humans disappear from the earth?

The opinions expressed in the video are not necessarily those of the management, but they might be.

rain

hermits hearting Grant Co like a hamburger in the hinterlands

Bro Moe was telling me, as we were stopped at a traffic light last week in a fabulous overlapping vacation in Grant County, Oregon, that this was the only traffic light in Grant County, Oregon. "How do you know that?" I asked suspiciously, because it is the custom in our family to always gather any available additional information in this manner. "I was reading it someplace" he said, a good start on an acceptable answer in our family. The very next day I encountered an additional traffic light, announced by a stuttering electronic signboard, on a different stretch of Grant County road. Oh yes. You know how I feel about stuttering.



It is a little blurry because I dropped the good camera as I was making a swoop down a campground boat ramp on my bicycle and filming and so no hands were available for the other bike brake so I couldn't use the other other bike brake either or the bike would probably flip over. I had to use the dinosaur camera after that, also given to me by Bro Moe, as was the good one, for both of which I am heartily grateful. He is very generous even if misinformed about Grant County infrastructure details.

barching band

I agree 82% with what my fellow clubmember had to say about bicycles in privies (yech!) and those ugly glasses frames. I have not seen any cats wearing bling unless you count those glittery collars with what looks like little diamonds all over them that people put on the really puffy kind of white haired cats sometimes. The kind with the squashed in faces. Holmes, I really don't know what to say about those cats. They look so strange already, and then if they have jewelry sunk down into their fur that you don't know about, that even bothers a person more to think about.


Somebody sent in a link to this video and suggested that we need hobbies. I am a ninja, and I already AM in this video; you just can't see me, but the helpful guy didn't think of that.