Check it out, I'm now a famous photographer!
http://www.schmap.com/portland/sights_zoos/p=90862/i=90862_150.jpg
See the teeny little picture of a lion in the upper right hand corner? Yes you can, put your reading glasses on and squint a little harder. See it now? That's MY picture. Yes, that's right, Schmap (whom everybody knows, they're practically the next Google Maps) discovered it on Flickr and chose it as one of the elite 3,402 shots of the Oregon Zoo to display on their website. There is no monetary compensation involved, but obviously this major exposure will open all sorts of doors for me on my quest to get somebody to pay me for pressing the shutter button.
I'm on my way, people.
Thursday, April 15, 2010
Saturday, March 27, 2010
I don't like you, pineapple upside-down cake
So I've been reading and laughing my way through Amy Sedaris' hosting book, I Like You. I bought it mainly for the comedy, but as I'm leafing through it I start to realize that the recipes in there actually sound good. And lo, Easter is coming, my mother and I have been missing pineapple upside-down cake, and there is a recipe for it in Sedaris' book. Last year I hosted Easter and had no time for dessert. My mom tried to find a pre-made p.u-d.c. at the grocery store to no avail. So I decide to try Sedaris' version.
Now, nobody who bakes is going to tell you this is a hard cake to make. I've made it before and it takes little time. It all sounds well and good, except...the recipe says to mix the pineapple juice in with the butter & brown sugar that goes on the bottom of the cake pan. Well let me be clear here...here's what it says:
Here's what fell out of my cake pan 45 minutes later:
Those fucking cherries and rings were arranged in a meticulously PERFECT pattern. I wasn't crazy, there was too much goo on the top of my cake, and it came out like a soggy sponge. Also, my cake pan must not have been big enough because when the cake rose so did the evil brown pineapple slurry...it bubbled right out of the pan and onto the bottom of my oven. NEVER MIND that I neglected to put a protective cookie sheet under my cake pan, something my mom taught me to do 20 years ago. You just keep that comment to yourself, missy. All I know is that when I put the oven on last night it smoked for 45 minutes. I had to scrape that sugary crap off of the bottom with a spatula, and the oven still smoked for another 30 minutes afterward just to remind me why I quit baking years ago.
But Amy, I still like you, even if you practically came over in the flesh and ruined my morning by baking a bad cake and leaving me to clean up the mess. So I'm going to try this again, and I will substitute some of the liquid in the cake batter for the pineapple juice. It's going to be fabulous.
Now, nobody who bakes is going to tell you this is a hard cake to make. I've made it before and it takes little time. It all sounds well and good, except...the recipe says to mix the pineapple juice in with the butter & brown sugar that goes on the bottom of the cake pan. Well let me be clear here...here's what it says:
- Melt 4 tablespoons of butter in the bottom of an 8- or 9-inch cake pan or an ovenproof skillet. Stir in the brown sugar and stir until it dissolves. Take off burner and add your pineapple juice.
Here's what fell out of my cake pan 45 minutes later:
Those fucking cherries and rings were arranged in a meticulously PERFECT pattern. I wasn't crazy, there was too much goo on the top of my cake, and it came out like a soggy sponge. Also, my cake pan must not have been big enough because when the cake rose so did the evil brown pineapple slurry...it bubbled right out of the pan and onto the bottom of my oven. NEVER MIND that I neglected to put a protective cookie sheet under my cake pan, something my mom taught me to do 20 years ago. You just keep that comment to yourself, missy. All I know is that when I put the oven on last night it smoked for 45 minutes. I had to scrape that sugary crap off of the bottom with a spatula, and the oven still smoked for another 30 minutes afterward just to remind me why I quit baking years ago.
But Amy, I still like you, even if you practically came over in the flesh and ruined my morning by baking a bad cake and leaving me to clean up the mess. So I'm going to try this again, and I will substitute some of the liquid in the cake batter for the pineapple juice. It's going to be fabulous.
Sunday, March 14, 2010
Surprise
I did not expect to buy a kitchen sink and new counter tops Saturday night and be 1/2 finished with cutting and installing them by Sunday night. Behold, the power of Home Depot.
I'm off for a well-deserved shower, beer, and bed.
I'm off for a well-deserved shower, beer, and bed.
Sunday, March 7, 2010
All work and no play
feels really damn good sometimes.
Renovations on the bathroom resumed yesterday. We did some good work for about 12 hours straight. We're working on tiling in the bathtub, and we're nearly ready to lay the one row of tiles it will take to complete the job.
Also, we hung the new soap dish. I don't know why but looking at it makes me incredibly happy.
I've got a picture somewhere of what the bathroom used to look like...I'll dig it up, but in the meantime, imagine it if you can. I live in a house built in 1961. The fixtures in the bathroom probably date back to when the house was built. Someone had the good sense to not install PINK TILES, and for that I am eternally grateful. Instead, they used an adobe color. Not a color I would have chosen, but totally acceptable. That's the best part - we're leaving all of the tiles on the wall up.
The tub and sink were installed to "match" the adobe color, and they were the color of flesh. FLESH. Why, how lovely, your tub matches your skin tone. Now you can bath and have the comfort of knowing you are partially camouflaged! The sink was embedded in a cheesy yellowish linoleum top, complete with caulk sticking out all around the sink. This linoleum top rested on an oak colored vanity that, while actual wood, was thin, flimsy, and old.
Also, it the bathroom was carpeted. We've got a horrible tan wall to wall carpet (perfect for displaying every black dog hair that rests on it), and the previous owners must have liked it so much they decided to keep laying it right into the bathroom. Perfect for absorbing the water that you shed when exiting the shower, trapping it, and turning it into mold!
Finally, the upper part of the walls were wallpapered with a lovely small print design featuring hearts and ivy or some such shit. Around the entire top portion of the room was a wallpaper border showcasing geese. It tastefully matched the rest of the wallpaper.
Got a mental picture now? Can you feel yourself just melting into the luxury of such an elegantly designed bathroom? Great, now get ready to annihilate it.
Renovations began with pulling up the carpet, under which we found a perfectly acceptable tile floor, covered in carpet glue. They also layed large white tiles around the toilet, which the carpet did not cover. So I got to chisel those up and still have to deal with scraping the remaining grout off of the lower layer of tiles.
Next came sink removal. That was satisfyingly easy. The top of the vanity popped right off and we actually saved the vanity for reuse. I used a combo stain/gloss coat in a nice deep reddish brown, and it came out great. We also replaced the knobs with some simple brushed nickel ones. The drawers still need some attention to make the work properly, but we saved about $500 by not investing in some laminated piece of crap. A granite top is patiently waiting to be laid on top.
Next was tub removal. This was a royal bitch...first we popped off a single layer of tiles surrounding the tub, and then Chris sawed through the wall board so we could pry the tub out. The flesh colored beauty was also cast iron, and had to be sawed in half just to enable us to pick it up and carry it out of the house.
Then came wallpaper removal, and an endless cycle of sanding, plastering, sanding, plastering, ad nauseum, and I'm still not frigging finished. I started painting before I got it all perfect because I simply couldn't take it anymore. I'm nearly done now, but not quite. A word to potential home buyers - don't buy a house with wallpaper you don't like or don't plan to paper over. One, two, even four walls, sure, but OUR ENTIRE HOUSE WAS COVERED WITH SHITTY WALLPAPER. About 1/2 of it still is, and I have come to accept that I'm never going to finish the job.
In the midst of peeling/sanding/plastering/painting hell, we cut a hole in the wall to accommodate the new medicine cabinet, and replaced the light fixture.
Then came new, WHITE tub installation. This wasn't so much difficult as it was aggravating, because after the first try we discovered it was leaking. I assumed we had bigger problems and needed a plumber's help, but Chris knew better...turned out we didn't screw in the drainpipe well enough. Another lesson learned - always use the right tool for the job, remember that you already bought the damn thing, and know where it is before you say "fuck it" and use a plier handle to tighten the drainpipe.
So we're probably about 70% through the entire job. The tile around the tub needs to be laid, as well as all of the new tile on the floor, the medicine cabinet will be screwed in when the wall stops looking like shit, and the sink & vanity go back after the tile is laid.
On a good day, I'll say the work is fun. It totally depends on the job, my mood, and how defeated I'm feeling by this old house. Demolition is the most satisfying, hands down. Repetitive work is hard and frustrating, but hey, I'm a programmer, I sit on my ass all day and so I (sometimes) enjoy having something manual to do. Tasks involving power tools that have the potential to remove my fingers, and electricity, which has the potential to stop my heart, are terrifying, but that's where Chris really shines, and I appreciate his knowledge and expertise. But putting on the finishing touches? Like the silly soap dish?
That shit is priceless.
Renovations on the bathroom resumed yesterday. We did some good work for about 12 hours straight. We're working on tiling in the bathtub, and we're nearly ready to lay the one row of tiles it will take to complete the job.
Also, we hung the new soap dish. I don't know why but looking at it makes me incredibly happy.
I've got a picture somewhere of what the bathroom used to look like...I'll dig it up, but in the meantime, imagine it if you can. I live in a house built in 1961. The fixtures in the bathroom probably date back to when the house was built. Someone had the good sense to not install PINK TILES, and for that I am eternally grateful. Instead, they used an adobe color. Not a color I would have chosen, but totally acceptable. That's the best part - we're leaving all of the tiles on the wall up.
The tub and sink were installed to "match" the adobe color, and they were the color of flesh. FLESH. Why, how lovely, your tub matches your skin tone. Now you can bath and have the comfort of knowing you are partially camouflaged! The sink was embedded in a cheesy yellowish linoleum top, complete with caulk sticking out all around the sink. This linoleum top rested on an oak colored vanity that, while actual wood, was thin, flimsy, and old.
Also, it the bathroom was carpeted. We've got a horrible tan wall to wall carpet (perfect for displaying every black dog hair that rests on it), and the previous owners must have liked it so much they decided to keep laying it right into the bathroom. Perfect for absorbing the water that you shed when exiting the shower, trapping it, and turning it into mold!
Finally, the upper part of the walls were wallpapered with a lovely small print design featuring hearts and ivy or some such shit. Around the entire top portion of the room was a wallpaper border showcasing geese. It tastefully matched the rest of the wallpaper.
Got a mental picture now? Can you feel yourself just melting into the luxury of such an elegantly designed bathroom? Great, now get ready to annihilate it.
Renovations began with pulling up the carpet, under which we found a perfectly acceptable tile floor, covered in carpet glue. They also layed large white tiles around the toilet, which the carpet did not cover. So I got to chisel those up and still have to deal with scraping the remaining grout off of the lower layer of tiles.
Next came sink removal. That was satisfyingly easy. The top of the vanity popped right off and we actually saved the vanity for reuse. I used a combo stain/gloss coat in a nice deep reddish brown, and it came out great. We also replaced the knobs with some simple brushed nickel ones. The drawers still need some attention to make the work properly, but we saved about $500 by not investing in some laminated piece of crap. A granite top is patiently waiting to be laid on top.
Next was tub removal. This was a royal bitch...first we popped off a single layer of tiles surrounding the tub, and then Chris sawed through the wall board so we could pry the tub out. The flesh colored beauty was also cast iron, and had to be sawed in half just to enable us to pick it up and carry it out of the house.
Then came wallpaper removal, and an endless cycle of sanding, plastering, sanding, plastering, ad nauseum, and I'm still not frigging finished. I started painting before I got it all perfect because I simply couldn't take it anymore. I'm nearly done now, but not quite. A word to potential home buyers - don't buy a house with wallpaper you don't like or don't plan to paper over. One, two, even four walls, sure, but OUR ENTIRE HOUSE WAS COVERED WITH SHITTY WALLPAPER. About 1/2 of it still is, and I have come to accept that I'm never going to finish the job.
In the midst of peeling/sanding/plastering/painting hell, we cut a hole in the wall to accommodate the new medicine cabinet, and replaced the light fixture.
Then came new, WHITE tub installation. This wasn't so much difficult as it was aggravating, because after the first try we discovered it was leaking. I assumed we had bigger problems and needed a plumber's help, but Chris knew better...turned out we didn't screw in the drainpipe well enough. Another lesson learned - always use the right tool for the job, remember that you already bought the damn thing, and know where it is before you say "fuck it" and use a plier handle to tighten the drainpipe.
So we're probably about 70% through the entire job. The tile around the tub needs to be laid, as well as all of the new tile on the floor, the medicine cabinet will be screwed in when the wall stops looking like shit, and the sink & vanity go back after the tile is laid.
On a good day, I'll say the work is fun. It totally depends on the job, my mood, and how defeated I'm feeling by this old house. Demolition is the most satisfying, hands down. Repetitive work is hard and frustrating, but hey, I'm a programmer, I sit on my ass all day and so I (sometimes) enjoy having something manual to do. Tasks involving power tools that have the potential to remove my fingers, and electricity, which has the potential to stop my heart, are terrifying, but that's where Chris really shines, and I appreciate his knowledge and expertise. But putting on the finishing touches? Like the silly soap dish?
That shit is priceless.
Wednesday, March 3, 2010
The Box
The Box was originally written by Richard Matheson, entitled "Button, Button", and published in Playboy in 1970. The Warner Brother's version is based on the same premise. A box is left on the doorstep of a family - a couple in their mid-thirties with a single child. It contains a button. If pressed, the couple will receive one million dollars in cash. Consequently, someone unknown to them will die. If they chose not to press the button, the box will be retrieved within 24 hours, "reprogrammed", and presented to another family with the same options.
This is a CREEPY MOVIE. I cannot divulge anything else because I hate to be the spoiler, but if you enjoy a psychological thriller, and don't mind a little sci-fi and suspension of disbelief, I highly recommend this film. It isn't often that Hollywood produces a film where the premise revolves entirely around an issue of morality. Yes, I know, lots of films try to cram a lesson or two down our throats before the credits roll, but this one was entirely about the consequences of our choices.
So would you press the button? Is a million in cash worth more to you than a stranger's life? What if you were the stranger?
This is a CREEPY MOVIE. I cannot divulge anything else because I hate to be the spoiler, but if you enjoy a psychological thriller, and don't mind a little sci-fi and suspension of disbelief, I highly recommend this film. It isn't often that Hollywood produces a film where the premise revolves entirely around an issue of morality. Yes, I know, lots of films try to cram a lesson or two down our throats before the credits roll, but this one was entirely about the consequences of our choices.
So would you press the button? Is a million in cash worth more to you than a stranger's life? What if you were the stranger?
Saturday, February 27, 2010
An accurate summation
"You didn't lose anything, Beth. You just discovered it was never yours in the first place."
~My Dad
~My Dad
Monday, February 22, 2010
A random act of...littering?
A very strange thing happened to me in San Francisco. Sara and I were headed down the escalator into the underground to catch the metro. A youngish, lanky, red-headed fellow was on his way up and passing us as we went down. Suddenly, out of nowhere, he whips a cardboard box at me. It was some sort of empty food container, and it hit me squarely in the chest.
My immediate reaction was to whip around and stare at him, but already he was above me and I was lookng at the back of his head. "WELL THAT WAS UNUSUAL!!" was all I thought to yell. What I felt like doing was running back up the escalator and sucker punching him in the back of his head. But I am not stupid, and resisted the urge to start a physical fight with a strange man on the street of a strange city.
Sara missed the incident, as she was in front of me on the down escalator. When I told her what happened, she mused..."He was probably on drugs."
Clearly he was taking the wrong drugs. Or perhaps he wasn't taking the right ones.
Dear box-man, I am only wondering...why me? Was it coincidence? Or did something about my appearance make you so angry you had to whip something at me?
My immediate reaction was to whip around and stare at him, but already he was above me and I was lookng at the back of his head. "WELL THAT WAS UNUSUAL!!" was all I thought to yell. What I felt like doing was running back up the escalator and sucker punching him in the back of his head. But I am not stupid, and resisted the urge to start a physical fight with a strange man on the street of a strange city.
Sara missed the incident, as she was in front of me on the down escalator. When I told her what happened, she mused..."He was probably on drugs."
Clearly he was taking the wrong drugs. Or perhaps he wasn't taking the right ones.
Dear box-man, I am only wondering...why me? Was it coincidence? Or did something about my appearance make you so angry you had to whip something at me?
Another partial read
Narcissism, Denial of the True Self, by Alexander Lowen, M.D.
Intro:
"Narcissism describes both a psychological and a cultural condition. On the individual level, it denotes a personality disturbance characterized by an exaggerated investment in one's image at the expense of the self. Narcissists are more concerned with how they appear than what they feel. Indeed, they deny feelings that contradict the image they seek. Acting without feeling, they tend to be seductive and manipulative, striving for power and control. They are egotists, focused on their own interests but lacking the true values of the self - namely, self expression, self-possession, dignity, and integrity. Narcissists lack a sense of self derived from body feelings. Without a solid sense of self, they experience life as empty and meaningless. It is a desolate state."
Amy Bishop seems to be a PERFECT example of a narcissist gone mad. Tiger Woods is likely another.
Intro:
"Narcissism describes both a psychological and a cultural condition. On the individual level, it denotes a personality disturbance characterized by an exaggerated investment in one's image at the expense of the self. Narcissists are more concerned with how they appear than what they feel. Indeed, they deny feelings that contradict the image they seek. Acting without feeling, they tend to be seductive and manipulative, striving for power and control. They are egotists, focused on their own interests but lacking the true values of the self - namely, self expression, self-possession, dignity, and integrity. Narcissists lack a sense of self derived from body feelings. Without a solid sense of self, they experience life as empty and meaningless. It is a desolate state."
Amy Bishop seems to be a PERFECT example of a narcissist gone mad. Tiger Woods is likely another.
Sunday, February 21, 2010
Father knows best
My Dad was right, that was not Two Lights park I was at...it was Portland Head Light. I never give him enough credit for his memory!
Bollé!
Dear Bollé,
I had a wonderful time visiting you and your parents this weekend. Damn, yer cute. The last time I saw you was a year ago and you were such a different person then. Not really a person yet...just a wee baby. Now you're a little girl! Not to mention one of the sweetest little girls I've ever met. C'mon, blowing me kisses was just TOO MUCH. And when you put your hat and that giant glove on all by yourself? A back handspring wouldn't have impressed me more than that.
But Bollé, if you want to make your dear Aunti Dew happy for the rest of her life you will let your mom videotape you twirling around and around while your eyes are wide open, staring in the opposite direction. That was the funniest thing I may have ever seen.
I had a wonderful time visiting you and your parents this weekend. Damn, yer cute. The last time I saw you was a year ago and you were such a different person then. Not really a person yet...just a wee baby. Now you're a little girl! Not to mention one of the sweetest little girls I've ever met. C'mon, blowing me kisses was just TOO MUCH. And when you put your hat and that giant glove on all by yourself? A back handspring wouldn't have impressed me more than that.
But Bollé, if you want to make your dear Aunti Dew happy for the rest of her life you will let your mom videotape you twirling around and around while your eyes are wide open, staring in the opposite direction. That was the funniest thing I may have ever seen.
You and Uncle Michael, chillin'
Giving Dada a kiss goodnight
Nobody stands a chance against that smile
Mama & Dada took us to a great park today too. I stopped by my own parents' house on the way home and enjoyed a lively debate between them as to whether or not I was at "Two Lights" park. There were indeed two lighthouses, and the park my Dad remembers was in Cape Elizabeth, but that wasn't quite enough to convince him I was in the same place...likely because I didn't take an exact picture of what's in his head.
You insisted on walking at the park, even when the wind really started blowing and we thought you might be carried out to sea with it. The cold didn't bother you a bit...you were just walking and enjoying the sheer forward motion.
I can't wait to see what you can do the next time I see you.
Love,
Aunti Dew
Thursday, February 18, 2010
What I'm (not) reading - a partial review, brought to you by adult onset ADD
There is a large stack of books on my nightstand. Some might look at it and think, wow, she's a big reader! They would be mistaken. I'm a big starter of books, but I rarely finish them these days. Here's a quick run down of half of that pile...
The Black Book, by Orhan Pamuk
Set in Turkey, this book flashes between present day and past memories as remembered by Galip, our strange protagonist, whose wife leaves him for reasons unknown. Reasons unknown to me, that is. This book was gifted to me about 10 years ago and I finally got through the first 57 pages. The last time I read it was on the beach...it's now February. Probably safe to say I lost interest.
Wicked, by Gregory Maguire
We all know this one, it was a smash hit on Broadway. I read ALL of Confessions of an Ugly Stepsister (gifted to me by the same friend who gave me The Black Book, thanks Amy!) first, and I really enjoyed that one. Stands to reason I'd like Wicked, no? No. I mostly hated this book, but kept on reading until I got about 2/3 through it. The more I read, the more I hated it. This in and of itself was compelling, but I guess I just didn't hate it enough to finish it.
The Blind Assassin, by Margaret Atwood
Where the fuck did this one come from? I have no recollection of purchasing this one. I haven't even cracked it. It's the winner of the Booker Prize. What the hell kind of a prize for a book is called the Booker Prize? That's like giving a carpenter the Woody Prize. Seriously, it's a prize for writing well (I presume), but the people who came up with the name of the prize couldn't be more creative than Booker? Have yourself, Booker people, I'm too good for your crackerjack award winners.
Brain in Your Pocket, by Christopher M. Strange
I know I read at least one nugget from this one and appreciated how it's not a long story, but rather a bunch of facts consolidated into a small, concise format. Thus it ended up on the nightstand so that I might better appreciate the small, concise layer of dust it accumulated.
Dog On It, by Spencer Quinn
Got this one for Christmas 2009, and it looks intriguing. A PI and his dog solve a mystery. I like doggies, they have fur and waggy tails. * Stares at own dog for five minutes instead of reading full synopsis *
Behind the Attic Wall, by Sylvia Cassedy
Ah, finally, one I've read! When I was...ahem...maybe 11? I read a lot as a kid...I were smarter then.
The Angel of Darkness, by Caleb Carr
I distinctly remember starting this one at my boyfriend's house. That was four boyfriends ago. I think at my last attempt I made it through Chapter 2 (of 59).
The Queen of the South, by Arturo Perez-Reverte
This one seems genuinely awesome. It's about a female drug lord. The first few chapters are riveting...she's giving an interview and recalling when her dealer boyfriend was shot and she had to flee her home because the murderers were coming for her too. I'm totally going to get back to this one...OH LOOK, AN LOL CAT!
The Black Book, by Orhan Pamuk
Set in Turkey, this book flashes between present day and past memories as remembered by Galip, our strange protagonist, whose wife leaves him for reasons unknown. Reasons unknown to me, that is. This book was gifted to me about 10 years ago and I finally got through the first 57 pages. The last time I read it was on the beach...it's now February. Probably safe to say I lost interest.
Wicked, by Gregory Maguire
We all know this one, it was a smash hit on Broadway. I read ALL of Confessions of an Ugly Stepsister (gifted to me by the same friend who gave me The Black Book, thanks Amy!) first, and I really enjoyed that one. Stands to reason I'd like Wicked, no? No. I mostly hated this book, but kept on reading until I got about 2/3 through it. The more I read, the more I hated it. This in and of itself was compelling, but I guess I just didn't hate it enough to finish it.
The Blind Assassin, by Margaret Atwood
Where the fuck did this one come from? I have no recollection of purchasing this one. I haven't even cracked it. It's the winner of the Booker Prize. What the hell kind of a prize for a book is called the Booker Prize? That's like giving a carpenter the Woody Prize. Seriously, it's a prize for writing well (I presume), but the people who came up with the name of the prize couldn't be more creative than Booker? Have yourself, Booker people, I'm too good for your crackerjack award winners.
Brain in Your Pocket, by Christopher M. Strange
I know I read at least one nugget from this one and appreciated how it's not a long story, but rather a bunch of facts consolidated into a small, concise format. Thus it ended up on the nightstand so that I might better appreciate the small, concise layer of dust it accumulated.
Dog On It, by Spencer Quinn
Got this one for Christmas 2009, and it looks intriguing. A PI and his dog solve a mystery. I like doggies, they have fur and waggy tails. * Stares at own dog for five minutes instead of reading full synopsis *
Behind the Attic Wall, by Sylvia Cassedy
Ah, finally, one I've read! When I was...ahem...maybe 11? I read a lot as a kid...I were smarter then.
The Angel of Darkness, by Caleb Carr
I distinctly remember starting this one at my boyfriend's house. That was four boyfriends ago. I think at my last attempt I made it through Chapter 2 (of 59).
The Queen of the South, by Arturo Perez-Reverte
This one seems genuinely awesome. It's about a female drug lord. The first few chapters are riveting...she's giving an interview and recalling when her dealer boyfriend was shot and she had to flee her home because the murderers were coming for her too. I'm totally going to get back to this one...OH LOOK, AN LOL CAT!
Wednesday, February 17, 2010
Coming Home
Today was my first day in my new, old office. It's so strangely great to be back...the office is a mere 15 minutes from my house and I don't have to get on the highway at all. I didn't have to travel far to my last office, just 30 minutes. But let me repeat the most important part...I don't have to get on the highway AT ALL. So that lil' 15 minutes was time I spent rolling along at an average of 20 MPH, despising every other car that was between me and my destination, everybody driving every one of those cars, and the state of Massachusetts in general. Also, your mom. I don't exactly know how she was involved in making my commute suck, but give me enough time and I could come up with something.
So let's see...15 minutes each way times two is 30 minutes per day, 2.5 hours per week, and roughly 240 hours per year that I don't spend hating the world and everybody in it. Think of all of the sunshine I can spread with that extra 240 hours per year! That's 10 FULL DAYS of extra time. It's as good as getting an extra 2 weeks of vacation annually.
Never underestimate the power of a good commute!
Another bonus of getting a new job? It will be a hard job, no doubt, but right now there is so much to learn it will be weeks before I can really useful in any way. I am getting paid to learn new technology at a very reasonable pace. I am walking on air right now.
I had NO IDEA how stressed my old job made me. No idea at all...probably because I liked what I did, and I did what I liked. I'm a development programmer, and for years it was really fun....if I didn't like how the old system did something, well I'd just build it better! That's what we all did, and despite whatever anybody thinks or says about the product, we all know we put our best effort in. I'm proud of it, even if it's still sort of a reckless teenager of software. It knows what it's supposed to do and how it's supposed to behave, but it still screws up and misbehaves. It needs more guidance to grow up into a mature, responsible adult. When it does get into trouble (at least the part I built) I don't blame it...I blame me. Ever since it went out to our beta site I have been holding my breath, waiting for them to find the first problem.
Then overnight, with a mighty whooosh, I'm out. All of that stress, all of the burden of responsibility...it's just gone. That weight is lifted, and suddenly I can look forward to new challenges again.
The weight will return and I know that, but for now, all I can say is...WHEEEEEEEEEEEEE!
So let's see...15 minutes each way times two is 30 minutes per day, 2.5 hours per week, and roughly 240 hours per year that I don't spend hating the world and everybody in it. Think of all of the sunshine I can spread with that extra 240 hours per year! That's 10 FULL DAYS of extra time. It's as good as getting an extra 2 weeks of vacation annually.
Never underestimate the power of a good commute!
Another bonus of getting a new job? It will be a hard job, no doubt, but right now there is so much to learn it will be weeks before I can really useful in any way. I am getting paid to learn new technology at a very reasonable pace. I am walking on air right now.
I had NO IDEA how stressed my old job made me. No idea at all...probably because I liked what I did, and I did what I liked. I'm a development programmer, and for years it was really fun....if I didn't like how the old system did something, well I'd just build it better! That's what we all did, and despite whatever anybody thinks or says about the product, we all know we put our best effort in. I'm proud of it, even if it's still sort of a reckless teenager of software. It knows what it's supposed to do and how it's supposed to behave, but it still screws up and misbehaves. It needs more guidance to grow up into a mature, responsible adult. When it does get into trouble (at least the part I built) I don't blame it...I blame me. Ever since it went out to our beta site I have been holding my breath, waiting for them to find the first problem.
Then overnight, with a mighty whooosh, I'm out. All of that stress, all of the burden of responsibility...it's just gone. That weight is lifted, and suddenly I can look forward to new challenges again.
The weight will return and I know that, but for now, all I can say is...WHEEEEEEEEEEEEE!
Monday, February 15, 2010
A fabulous audience
Today I showed off my FULL SET of photo's to my SO's family, and they were so kind to me. My nearly-sister-in-law and her SO have this big, beauuuutiful TV with LED backlighting and LCD and I think little gnomes that run around and touch up all the colors with their magic wands during each refresh. So they let me show off the pics on that, and they were such troopers, they oohed and aahed for the whole thing. Even my SO, who was flat out not going to look at 1,000 ish photos when I first returned stuck around for the whole thing and seemed genuinely interested.
Also, there was some Wiiing around here. While I was upstairs working I heard things got so intense downstairs during a hot game of bowling that someone (whose identity will be protected pending the litigation) may have shot her control out of her hands on what should have been a strike. Well, it was a strike, right into the side of the TV. Miraculously, it mainly hit the side of the TV and didn't break the screen.
It was a really fun day & evening...and don't worry, remote thrower...what happens in Connecticut stays in Connecticut. And also on the internet.
Also, there was some Wiiing around here. While I was upstairs working I heard things got so intense downstairs during a hot game of bowling that someone (whose identity will be protected pending the litigation) may have shot her control out of her hands on what should have been a strike. Well, it was a strike, right into the side of the TV. Miraculously, it mainly hit the side of the TV and didn't break the screen.
It was a really fun day & evening...and don't worry, remote thrower...what happens in Connecticut stays in Connecticut. And also on the internet.
Sunday, February 14, 2010
Bloggin' bogs
This was some of the scenery on the ride from Portland to San Francisco. I don't know if they normally have that much water sitting on the fields but it made me think they might be able to grow rice.
Saturday, February 13, 2010
Crazy Boring
We opted to see the lil' independent film Crazy Heart this evening. It stars Jeff Bridges as Bad Blubarb (okay, so I can't remember his last name), the 57 year old country singer who is a warshed up alcoholic who also smokes like a chimney and has found himself with four ex-wives and a 28 year old son he knows nothing about.
The movie reviewers raved about this film, and I always prefer to give a good independent a chance rather than get spoon fed some formulaic Hollywood blockbuster that appeals to the great unwashed masses. And so we ventured to the little Dedham community theater, which we've been to before and like for it's small-town charm (and beer and wine). And thus we found ourselves nearly stupefied by the utter boredom of watching this movie.
The acting was stupendous, I cannot fault the actors. It was the story, or lack thereof,, combined with the fact that one should be a country music fan to appreciate the film. I'd guess about 1/3 of it was music. I am a music lover, EXCEPT FOR COUNTRY MUSIC. I will listen to rap before I listen to country music, that's how little I think of country. Why? Why would I reject a form of music that is the MOST popular in this country? Because, quite frankly, I could be a country music star. My mom could be a country music star. I think my cat may already moonlight as a country music star.
I know that one of my three followers of this little crappy blog is a big country music fan. Way to discard 1/3 of my fan base (hi Kari!). There is nothing offensive to me about the sound of country music. Nor is there anything remarkable about it. It is also completely formulaic, predictable, and above and beyond all else, repetetive. Perhaps one in every 500 country songs is in some way unique to my ears. Not that I've even given 50 country music songs a chance, because I fell asleep during the opening of the second one you asked me to listen to. What's that you say? Yer dog has run off with yer wife and the bank is taking the farm? You appreciate the beauty of this country after you've downed a case of Bud Light? You're wondering why you shaved your legs for this? Frankly, my wheat chewing, tobaccy spitting friend, I don't give a flying fuck. You have no funky base or backbeat to accompany your compelling tale, and my ADD riddled brain moved onto more interesting (and shiny!) things at about your second utterance of ye-haw.
Whoa, that was more of an angry tangent than I planned on. Getting back to the movie...oh yeah, I forgot, I told you everything already. NOTHING HAPPENED. Bridges sang some songs, drank some whisky, threw up a bit, and enter Maggie Gyllenhaal, my favorite pig-faced, smarmy leading lady. She did a great job, and I mean that sincerely...the girl can act, BUT...that face. That unfortunate face can only convey smugness in one form or another. She can be smugly happy, smugly sorrowful, smugly hungry...you name it, she can do it, smugly. She has an adorable round-faced, cherubic son, named Buddy, that Bad dumps regret over his wasted years of drinking through fatherhood into. Alas, he cannot ditch the whisky whist babysitting, and little Buddy goes missing for a few hours. Gyllenhaal, understandably, cannot forgive his bumbling babysitting snafu, even after he sobers up. THE END. After 2.5 hours, I mean.
When I read the reviews for this movie I thought to myself, "Hmmm, sounds like The Wrestler." We all loved The Wrestler, and Bridges can act, so how could it be bad? Even after we left the movie I mused..."Why was The Wrestler so good and that so bad?" Answser - Crazy Heart has 0% wrestling. DUH. I had to substitute wrestling with country music. SUBSTITUTE FAIL, subsequent MOVIE FAIL.
PS, Jeff Bridges, I still heart you. I hope you can forgive me hating your movie.
The movie reviewers raved about this film, and I always prefer to give a good independent a chance rather than get spoon fed some formulaic Hollywood blockbuster that appeals to the great unwashed masses. And so we ventured to the little Dedham community theater, which we've been to before and like for it's small-town charm (and beer and wine). And thus we found ourselves nearly stupefied by the utter boredom of watching this movie.
The acting was stupendous, I cannot fault the actors. It was the story, or lack thereof,, combined with the fact that one should be a country music fan to appreciate the film. I'd guess about 1/3 of it was music. I am a music lover, EXCEPT FOR COUNTRY MUSIC. I will listen to rap before I listen to country music, that's how little I think of country. Why? Why would I reject a form of music that is the MOST popular in this country? Because, quite frankly, I could be a country music star. My mom could be a country music star. I think my cat may already moonlight as a country music star.
I know that one of my three followers of this little crappy blog is a big country music fan. Way to discard 1/3 of my fan base (hi Kari!). There is nothing offensive to me about the sound of country music. Nor is there anything remarkable about it. It is also completely formulaic, predictable, and above and beyond all else, repetetive. Perhaps one in every 500 country songs is in some way unique to my ears. Not that I've even given 50 country music songs a chance, because I fell asleep during the opening of the second one you asked me to listen to. What's that you say? Yer dog has run off with yer wife and the bank is taking the farm? You appreciate the beauty of this country after you've downed a case of Bud Light? You're wondering why you shaved your legs for this? Frankly, my wheat chewing, tobaccy spitting friend, I don't give a flying fuck. You have no funky base or backbeat to accompany your compelling tale, and my ADD riddled brain moved onto more interesting (and shiny!) things at about your second utterance of ye-haw.
Whoa, that was more of an angry tangent than I planned on. Getting back to the movie...oh yeah, I forgot, I told you everything already. NOTHING HAPPENED. Bridges sang some songs, drank some whisky, threw up a bit, and enter Maggie Gyllenhaal, my favorite pig-faced, smarmy leading lady. She did a great job, and I mean that sincerely...the girl can act, BUT...that face. That unfortunate face can only convey smugness in one form or another. She can be smugly happy, smugly sorrowful, smugly hungry...you name it, she can do it, smugly. She has an adorable round-faced, cherubic son, named Buddy, that Bad dumps regret over his wasted years of drinking through fatherhood into. Alas, he cannot ditch the whisky whist babysitting, and little Buddy goes missing for a few hours. Gyllenhaal, understandably, cannot forgive his bumbling babysitting snafu, even after he sobers up. THE END. After 2.5 hours, I mean.
When I read the reviews for this movie I thought to myself, "Hmmm, sounds like The Wrestler." We all loved The Wrestler, and Bridges can act, so how could it be bad? Even after we left the movie I mused..."Why was The Wrestler so good and that so bad?" Answser - Crazy Heart has 0% wrestling. DUH. I had to substitute wrestling with country music. SUBSTITUTE FAIL, subsequent MOVIE FAIL.
PS, Jeff Bridges, I still heart you. I hope you can forgive me hating your movie.
Thursday, February 11, 2010
Wednesday, February 10, 2010
Râpée Morv Andelle
Sounds exotic, no? It's not especially, it's just shredded potatoes, ham, eggs, onions & cheese. It is damn tasty, though.
I'm such a follower I watched Julie & Julia a few weeks ago and like nearly every other person who saw that movie I fell in love with Meryl Streep's version of Julia Childs. I can't say I liked the Julie character at all, and it turns out I had good reason not to...she just published a book, Cleaving, about the affair she had after the Julie & Julia blogsperiment. There's something in there too about learning to butcher meat. She butchered the sanctity of her marriage, and then went on to profit from it. How gross can you be?
Oh wow, turns out she's on blogspot too. Maybe I'll follow her and make her a frenemy.
Anyways, regardless of how I feel about Julie Powell, I liked her idea a lot. So much that I ordered a copy of Mastering the Art of French Cooking, Vol 1.
So far I've made two recipes...this weekend I followed her basic recipe for preparing a pork tenderloin with potatoes and onions, which turned out quite nicely. Tonight, after getting home a
little early because of the snow, I tried the Râpée Morv Andelle. Y-U-M!
In case you're wondering, that's my pi plate. :)
This is basically a big fluffy omelette, a little heavy on the onions, with the hash browns built in. It was easy to put together with the aid of a food processor, and bakes for just 30 minutes. Good for any meal if you ask me...it's essentially all breakfast ingredients.
I'm not going to bother typing out the recipe unless somebody actually cares to try it, so if you do speak up!
I'm such a follower I watched Julie & Julia a few weeks ago and like nearly every other person who saw that movie I fell in love with Meryl Streep's version of Julia Childs. I can't say I liked the Julie character at all, and it turns out I had good reason not to...she just published a book, Cleaving, about the affair she had after the Julie & Julia blogsperiment. There's something in there too about learning to butcher meat. She butchered the sanctity of her marriage, and then went on to profit from it. How gross can you be?
Oh wow, turns out she's on blogspot too. Maybe I'll follow her and make her a frenemy.
Anyways, regardless of how I feel about Julie Powell, I liked her idea a lot. So much that I ordered a copy of Mastering the Art of French Cooking, Vol 1.
So far I've made two recipes...this weekend I followed her basic recipe for preparing a pork tenderloin with potatoes and onions, which turned out quite nicely. Tonight, after getting home a
little early because of the snow, I tried the Râpée Morv Andelle. Y-U-M!
In case you're wondering, that's my pi plate. :)
This is basically a big fluffy omelette, a little heavy on the onions, with the hash browns built in. It was easy to put together with the aid of a food processor, and bakes for just 30 minutes. Good for any meal if you ask me...it's essentially all breakfast ingredients.
I'm not going to bother typing out the recipe unless somebody actually cares to try it, so if you do speak up!
Sunday, February 7, 2010
I'm still here
It's been a crazy (crazy good!) week back. I came home depleted. I caught about an hour of sleep on the red eye (after hiking ALL DAY with Sara) and had to catch the bus to South Station and then the train home. I was so tired and lugging my nearly 50 lb. suitcase and my 10 lb. briefcase. Then I had a reality check. In the elevator at South Station I held the door for a man in a wheelchair. He may have been mentally impaired...he was speech impaired and had the sunniest disposition I may have ever seen. He asked where I was headed and I said home. He asked where that was, and when I told him, he said, "Well that's not so bad! You can do it!" He could see I was tired, and despite how I was feeling I had nothing but smiles for his earnest inquiries. He wished me a great day when I got off of the elevator. And I realized...as tired and cranky as I was at that moment, it all was nothing compared to his daily challenges. He managed to get around and do his thing with a giant smile on his face. When he asked me how I was, I could see he actually cared about my answer. I want to go back and hug him.
I made it home and collapsed into bed. Then I went to bed again about 6 hours later at bed time. By morning I felt rested enough to start my new job!
New job, same company. I've been "asked" (I must use that term loosely) to move to a different department and head up the effort for my application to seamlessly move existing customers currently operating on our "old" systems to our new system that I just helped build for the past four years. In that four years I was pretty focused on one particular piece (though a large piece), and so there's a lot I don't know. Also, I haven't worked in the old technology for 3 years now. I'm pretty rusty. This is going to be challenging, but luckily for me I had predecessors built all sorts of useful tools that will make things easier. I guess the deal for now is we have four months just to determine how long the whole effort will take.
Overall, I'm excited about it. I feel the need to change things up every three years or so, and my company does everything they can to make that possible. I was ready, just taken by surprise. I found out two days before my vacation about the new job, and when I returned I was there! Still, there seems to be plenty of transition time so far, which I'm glad for as I have loose ends to tie up.
The rest of the week went smoothly at my old desk, doing my old job...
Most importantly, on Saturday, Laurie and I booked our tickets to go to CaleeFORneeahh to see her sister, and my Aunty Jeanne (hi Jeanne! hi Laurie!). It a lovely thing to come home from one amazing vacation and be able to book another one right way. God bless frequent flier miles.
Lastly, I made a few shopping trips and invited the rents over for dinner on Sunday, something I'd like to make a tradition while the weather is foul and we can't go out and play. My new Julia Child's cookbook took me through the steps of roasting a lovely pork tenderloin, and it was easy and yummy. A good time was had by all.
Getting sleepy...time to rest up before meeting the new boss again tomorrow. Goodnight!
I made it home and collapsed into bed. Then I went to bed again about 6 hours later at bed time. By morning I felt rested enough to start my new job!
New job, same company. I've been "asked" (I must use that term loosely) to move to a different department and head up the effort for my application to seamlessly move existing customers currently operating on our "old" systems to our new system that I just helped build for the past four years. In that four years I was pretty focused on one particular piece (though a large piece), and so there's a lot I don't know. Also, I haven't worked in the old technology for 3 years now. I'm pretty rusty. This is going to be challenging, but luckily for me I had predecessors built all sorts of useful tools that will make things easier. I guess the deal for now is we have four months just to determine how long the whole effort will take.
Overall, I'm excited about it. I feel the need to change things up every three years or so, and my company does everything they can to make that possible. I was ready, just taken by surprise. I found out two days before my vacation about the new job, and when I returned I was there! Still, there seems to be plenty of transition time so far, which I'm glad for as I have loose ends to tie up.
The rest of the week went smoothly at my old desk, doing my old job...
Most importantly, on Saturday, Laurie and I booked our tickets to go to CaleeFORneeahh to see her sister, and my Aunty Jeanne (hi Jeanne! hi Laurie!). It a lovely thing to come home from one amazing vacation and be able to book another one right way. God bless frequent flier miles.
Lastly, I made a few shopping trips and invited the rents over for dinner on Sunday, something I'd like to make a tradition while the weather is foul and we can't go out and play. My new Julia Child's cookbook took me through the steps of roasting a lovely pork tenderloin, and it was easy and yummy. A good time was had by all.
Getting sleepy...time to rest up before meeting the new boss again tomorrow. Goodnight!
Monday, February 1, 2010
Sunday, January 31, 2010
People actually live here
Today Sara & Colin and I went to Golden Gate Bridge Park where Colin and I indulged our need to shoot pics on while Sara patiently waited. It was awesome! The sun was shining as we walked the beach, which doubles as a dog park.
There were a million sailboats under the bridge. Colin figured out they were racing. What an amazing sight.
This sea lion was probably stealing the fisherman's bait off of the fishing dock. I got sofa king excited about catching his picture in his natural habitat. Then we went over to Pier 39, where they hang out full-time. Turns out it's not so rare to see them around here!
After four hours of hiking around we came back to the apartment to rest and digest the enormous sourdough breadbowls holding good ol' New England clam chowdah we ate for a late lunch. Later we had giant crabs for dinner, purchased fresh off the dock earlier in the day.
Tomorrow we'll hike into Chinatown for Dim sum.
Tomorrow is also my last day of vacation. I come home on the red eye. Sniff. I'm admittedly tired and ready to go back to a more sane schedule, but I honestly have no desire to be in New England for the rest of the winter. I could get used to this lifestyle. I could get used to winters that offer nothing worse than overcast skies and low temps of 40 something. I could get used to fabulous coffee and beer on every corner. I could get used to stunning vistas every which way I turn, to culture, art and music forever changing. This is not a vacation lulling me into adoring a place because I've left my worldy worries behind for a little while. I think I'm really in love with the west coast.
I hope it calls me back.
There were a million sailboats under the bridge. Colin figured out they were racing. What an amazing sight.
This sea lion was probably stealing the fisherman's bait off of the fishing dock. I got sofa king excited about catching his picture in his natural habitat. Then we went over to Pier 39, where they hang out full-time. Turns out it's not so rare to see them around here!
After four hours of hiking around we came back to the apartment to rest and digest the enormous sourdough breadbowls holding good ol' New England clam chowdah we ate for a late lunch. Later we had giant crabs for dinner, purchased fresh off the dock earlier in the day.
Tomorrow we'll hike into Chinatown for Dim sum.
Tomorrow is also my last day of vacation. I come home on the red eye. Sniff. I'm admittedly tired and ready to go back to a more sane schedule, but I honestly have no desire to be in New England for the rest of the winter. I could get used to this lifestyle. I could get used to winters that offer nothing worse than overcast skies and low temps of 40 something. I could get used to fabulous coffee and beer on every corner. I could get used to stunning vistas every which way I turn, to culture, art and music forever changing. This is not a vacation lulling me into adoring a place because I've left my worldy worries behind for a little while. I think I'm really in love with the west coast.
I hope it calls me back.
Friday, January 29, 2010
You know you're in San Francisco when...
...the first place you land is a kinky coffee shop. In fact, the this is the ONLY kinky coffee shop in all of San Francisco, or so they claim. I'm in Wicked Grounds, and luckily for me the kink is at a minimum.
Whoops, just went looking for the cream & sugar and found the whips & chains! Ok, I'm exaggerating...just whips. Seriously.
I woke up at 5:30 AM without the aid of an alarm clock and because I didn't know what else to do with myself I drove back to the mountains. Sunrise was scheduled for 7:21, so I drove around in the dark trying to get to higher ground but couldn't find the perfect spot for picture taking, and was too impatient to sit around waiting for light to see if where I was was good enough. But, in the end I got some lovely shots of both a mountain and a bit of Lake Shasta. I was back at the hotel by 8:15, and back on the road by 9:15.
The rest of the drive was easy going compared to yesterday. I made it in a little over 3 hours and the entire ride was flat this time. I couldn't believe it when I crossed the Golden Gate bridge around noon. It just snuck up on me. I've been over it before and as I remember it's a lot more impressive when you're gazing at it from across the bay rather than driving on it.
Triumph of the day...I got the car returned before I was charged for a second day. HOORAY! I can afford another meal before I return home.
The only thing I know of on the agenda for the weekend is happy hour tonight, and that is really all I'm focused on. Between the walking in Portland and the long ride down here my sciatica came back (no pun intended) to remind me that 10 minutes of a dude pushing and pulling on my legs does not fix a condition that took years to create. In short, I need a drink. In reality, I need an exercise regimen.
The barista just propped the door open. Yes, that's how nice it is here...about 60 degrees, maybe warmer in the sun.
SF, I love you and your wicked grounds already. Now hand me my whip.
Whoops, just went looking for the cream & sugar and found the whips & chains! Ok, I'm exaggerating...just whips. Seriously.
I woke up at 5:30 AM without the aid of an alarm clock and because I didn't know what else to do with myself I drove back to the mountains. Sunrise was scheduled for 7:21, so I drove around in the dark trying to get to higher ground but couldn't find the perfect spot for picture taking, and was too impatient to sit around waiting for light to see if where I was was good enough. But, in the end I got some lovely shots of both a mountain and a bit of Lake Shasta. I was back at the hotel by 8:15, and back on the road by 9:15.
The rest of the drive was easy going compared to yesterday. I made it in a little over 3 hours and the entire ride was flat this time. I couldn't believe it when I crossed the Golden Gate bridge around noon. It just snuck up on me. I've been over it before and as I remember it's a lot more impressive when you're gazing at it from across the bay rather than driving on it.
Triumph of the day...I got the car returned before I was charged for a second day. HOORAY! I can afford another meal before I return home.
The only thing I know of on the agenda for the weekend is happy hour tonight, and that is really all I'm focused on. Between the walking in Portland and the long ride down here my sciatica came back (no pun intended) to remind me that 10 minutes of a dude pushing and pulling on my legs does not fix a condition that took years to create. In short, I need a drink. In reality, I need an exercise regimen.
The barista just propped the door open. Yes, that's how nice it is here...about 60 degrees, maybe warmer in the sun.
SF, I love you and your wicked grounds already. Now hand me my whip.
SHAsta!
It was a long day, dear blog. Somehow what Google predicted would be a 5.5 hour drive was actually a 7.5 hour drive, including a few very brief food & rest stops. I got on the road at 12:45 PM, and arrived at the hotel at 8:15 PM. The scenery was breathtaking...I drove through mountains nearly the whole way...up and down and up and down again. At one point I was 20,000 feet above sea level! There was even snow on the ground for a short portion of the journey. The roads were good the whole way, and the temperature got as high as 60 degrees at one point, and the sun was out for most of the ride. I have been blessed with great weather this entire trip (knocking on the wooden desk now). I snapped a few shots of the landscape from my cell phone, but that was about the best I could do as I-5 in Oregon didn't offer a single scenic view to pull over at. It was hard to believe what I was looking at wasn't considered scenic enough! The grass is literally greener over here. There were all manner of farm animals grazing along the drive...even a few llamas.
I reached the California border around 5:30 PM, just as it was getting dark. The sunset was completely different from an East Coast winter sunset. Usually at home it goes from light to dark within about 30 minutes during the winter. Here the light lingered a good 1.5 hours after the sun had sunk below the horizon.
To help pass the time I started listening to Stephen King's latest epic, Under the Dome. It's great so far. King, being true to his usual form, pumped out another giant novel, and although I listened the entire way I'm probably only 1/5 through the story at best.
It seems I booked a hotel a bit too far from the great scenic area of Shasta National Park. I left the park about 20 miles ago, and I'm not sure I'll have the time to backtrack in the morning. I'm supposed to have the car in San Fran around noon tomorrow, and that's another 200 miles away. I'll play it by ear...right now I'm just glad I had the foresight to break this drive up over two days.
I hear the weather is downright miserable at home, and although I should be feeling great about missing it I can't help but feel bad for my loved ones back east, enduring another craptastic winter.
I'm putting myself to bed early in the hopes of rising early for more photo ops...night night.
I reached the California border around 5:30 PM, just as it was getting dark. The sunset was completely different from an East Coast winter sunset. Usually at home it goes from light to dark within about 30 minutes during the winter. Here the light lingered a good 1.5 hours after the sun had sunk below the horizon.
To help pass the time I started listening to Stephen King's latest epic, Under the Dome. It's great so far. King, being true to his usual form, pumped out another giant novel, and although I listened the entire way I'm probably only 1/5 through the story at best.
It seems I booked a hotel a bit too far from the great scenic area of Shasta National Park. I left the park about 20 miles ago, and I'm not sure I'll have the time to backtrack in the morning. I'm supposed to have the car in San Fran around noon tomorrow, and that's another 200 miles away. I'll play it by ear...right now I'm just glad I had the foresight to break this drive up over two days.
I hear the weather is downright miserable at home, and although I should be feeling great about missing it I can't help but feel bad for my loved ones back east, enduring another craptastic winter.
I'm putting myself to bed early in the hopes of rising early for more photo ops...night night.
Thursday, January 28, 2010
Portland review
Good morning. It's way too early to be awake in the Pacific timezone. I've been up since 5:30, because apparently 2.5 pints of Deschutes fine brews had too much alcohol to let me sleep in. Where did my tolerance go? I think I left it back in my twenties.
So the weather was beautiful yesterday, allowing me to go with Plan A and enjoy the Oregon Zoo, Hoyt Arboretum, and Japanese Garden. Each place was more impressive than the last.
The zoo was very good as zoos go, and relatively cheap! Only $9 for the day. I saw nearly every exhibit within 2.5 hours.
There were two Polar Bears, and they were MASSIVE beasts. One of them happened to be laying down really close to the glass and I actually jumped when I turned the corner and saw him. The guy above is clearly enjoying the morning sunshine.
I want to know who his stylist is.
The lions were actually watching me. When I saw the male taking an interest I intentionally started pacing back and forth in front of the glass. This got all of their attention. Eventually he decided I was just another schmuck with a camera and settled down again, and the female on the right who looks annoyed went back to licking her tree.
Another sun worshiper.
The sea lions looked almost as big as the polar bears, and just as cuddly. They were putting on a nice show for everybody, doing flips in front of the glass and coming right up to the kiddies to say hello. This picture barely does justice to how majestic they are.
My complete zoo set can be found here.
I left the Zoo and bought a map of the Arboretum, because it was honestly too big to just wander around. Here's what I saw along the way...
It is about here that light dawns on marble head and I finally figure out how to manually focus my camera. Get ready for a lot of unnecessary closeups.
I have reached my final destination - the Japanese Garden. Serenity now!
That is Mt. Hood. It is too pretty for words.
You can find my complete set of Arboretum & Japanese Garden pics here.
Thanks for looking. I'm going back to bed for a few hours before I start my long journey down to San Francisco.
So the weather was beautiful yesterday, allowing me to go with Plan A and enjoy the Oregon Zoo, Hoyt Arboretum, and Japanese Garden. Each place was more impressive than the last.
The zoo was very good as zoos go, and relatively cheap! Only $9 for the day. I saw nearly every exhibit within 2.5 hours.
There were two Polar Bears, and they were MASSIVE beasts. One of them happened to be laying down really close to the glass and I actually jumped when I turned the corner and saw him. The guy above is clearly enjoying the morning sunshine.
I want to know who his stylist is.
The lions were actually watching me. When I saw the male taking an interest I intentionally started pacing back and forth in front of the glass. This got all of their attention. Eventually he decided I was just another schmuck with a camera and settled down again, and the female on the right who looks annoyed went back to licking her tree.
Another sun worshiper.
The sea lions looked almost as big as the polar bears, and just as cuddly. They were putting on a nice show for everybody, doing flips in front of the glass and coming right up to the kiddies to say hello. This picture barely does justice to how majestic they are.
My complete zoo set can be found here.
I left the Zoo and bought a map of the Arboretum, because it was honestly too big to just wander around. Here's what I saw along the way...
It is about here that light dawns on marble head and I finally figure out how to manually focus my camera. Get ready for a lot of unnecessary closeups.
I have reached my final destination - the Japanese Garden. Serenity now!
That is Mt. Hood. It is too pretty for words.
You can find my complete set of Arboretum & Japanese Garden pics here.
Thanks for looking. I'm going back to bed for a few hours before I start my long journey down to San Francisco.
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