upon finding myself unplugged for an hour

Written on scratch paper at Powell's in Portland, Oregon this morning while my phone was being repaired 
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I watched a woman in an SUV waiting at the light on 11th Avenue.
I thought she was zoning out like we all do at stoplights, her face expressionless. She could have been sleeping upright behind the steering wheel, with her eyes open. But then, I saw her lips pull down, her cheeks crumpled. I wondered then if she was lost in thoughts about someone - someone she broke up with or was considering breaking up with, or someone who had died. I know how that face feels.

I kept watching (it was a really long light) and saw her eyes brighten then, lips slipped into a half-smile. Maybe she was listening to a sad song on the radio then a happier one started. Or maybe she's listening to an audio book, I thought. Once I borrowed a cassette reading of The Phantom of the Opera for my long drive home from college. When I pulled off the highway for gas after a couple hundred miles, I couldn't remember passing any of the familiar landmarks; my shoulders were tense and my jaw tight from hours of being trapped in that story. The attendant must have thought me strange, a sleepwalker emerging from my car.

away

Highway 20 south on my island

Boarding the ferry

Neighbors



Just in case...?

This is where I'll head in an emergency

Passing by

Back down
[Side note: If ever you want to witness OCD nuttiness in action, watch me on the ferry - I get out of the car as fast as I can, wander around in a state of glee mixed with agitation for 20 minutes then anxiously hurry back to my car where I sit for 10 minutes before actually having to leave]

Land, ho

Into Seattle

My baby takes the ... afternoon ... train

So good to see you again

Dragons on lampposts, it's what Seattle does

Chinatown meets King Street Station

Starbucks is watching you

Shipyards & Space Needle

Taking some end-of-Spring-Break hours to ourselves while the kids overdose on grandparent time (and TV). Back tomorrow with scenes from our life with other grown-ups.

imagine who was more terrified

As we drove home from the park the other day - the other sunny, warm & otherwise startlingly seasonal day - with windows wide open, Mason shrieked from the back seat.

A BUG IS IN THE CAR!

I turned to see this dude crawling along the edge of the back passenger door. He was a good inch long and very shiny. Paige bravely shot pictures but the camera was confused about what to focus on.

Somehow the bug managed to get itself up on the edge of the glass while I merged onto the highway at 60 mph. I seriously considered pulling over to help it get safely away before realizing that a) I was driving 60 mph and b) it's a bug, with wings. Perhaps I should have pulled over to quell the anxiety attack my son was having.

I actually took this photo backhanded without looking, because I was driving. At 60 miles per hour. The drama of it all. I wish I could have heard the bug's version of the story when he got home. As long as there was no sex involved.

5 Classes That Should Have Been Taught in School

I was tagged for this meme by the Restless Housewife; I think we might just be able to save the future of mankind by spreading a little heads-up to educators around the world. (I do try everyday to inject a bit of this valuable info into my teenage students. Except #4).

1. How to Effectively Deal with Mean Girls (Without Incurring a Criminal Record)
2. Reading Men's Minds
3. Appropriate Use of Turn Signals, Brakes, and Side Mirrors
4. Safe & Secret Storage of Sex Toys
5. Cooking, Cleaning, Dressing & Behaving 1950s Style - and LOVING IT, by God

Much love, thanks, & utter devotion to Anne Taintor's genius for this image

TAG YOU'RE IT to CamiKaos, Katydidnot, and Jenn. And other readers who realllly want to do it, please go crazy and let us know in comments.

Knowledge is power!

exhausting

I pride myself on being maniacally disturbingly admirably efficient. (Thanks, OCD!)

At school, I carefully plan copying & printing tasks and visits to other classrooms to maximize my time (and, of course, to avoid climbing two beastly flights of stairs more than once a day).

When running errands in the car, I work out routes so I can do everything in a loop, making as many right hand turns as possible. And though it was a Godsend to find drive-through anything when my kids were small and required multiple bucklings & unbucklings when getting in & out, now I try to limit idling situations.

Why? Mainly because I enjoy breathing.

A recent Ideal Bite tip reinforced what my non-sciencey brain thought was true (sometimes we English majors make up shit like this to seem smarter about something other than grammar or Faulkner) - idling cars emit loads of pollution and waste gas; I'm not cool with either of those things.

We've been having issues with our elementary school parking lot for years. Parents lining up along the curb to wait for their kids a) make it hard for wee ones to see actual moving cars in the parking lot and b) usually leave the motor running while they sit there. And I'm not quite clear on the b part because, what? You have to be ready for a quick getaway? Did your kid rob the place?

Despite my legendary aversion to exercise, I am perfectly willing to park my car and walk to the school for the kids because again, I enjoy breathing, and also? I actually like to see other parents and have a little conversation while we wait. And it's refreshing (literally) to know I'm not the only one who can take some time and give the environment a break.

notes to self

#1 You are a poor judge of distance.

Remember how it seemed so easy to just walk walk walk all around London for three days? You signed up for multiple walking tours and proceeded to walk on your own all over town, even when not on an actual walking tour? Do you recall the burning shin splints that lasted long after the thrill of the walking? Then remember when you & Stu went to Lake Tahoe for the wedding that wasn't? And when driving into town from Reno, it seemed like just a short way from the casinos to the hotel? So when you had some time to spare at the end of the day, it felt like a really fun idea to hike that "short way" back to the casinos? But in reality it was four miles and as you took each step your brain begged Go back and get the car NOW...or HITCHHIKE! Yet you trudged on until all you wanted to do was crumple to the floor of Caesar's and cry.

#2 You are a poor judge of temperature and its effects.

Remember that lecture hall at WSU where each floor had its own climate - one floor was jungle-like while the next was near subzero? And remember how it took you nearly five years to adjust your wardrobe to this situation? You would wear only the heaviest sweater to the equatorial rooms then forget your jacket for classes in the Arctic rooms. And that trip to London again, when jeans seemed like a fine choice even though England is farther north and generally colder in the winter than the Pacific NW. You had to seek out thick woolen tights to wear under those jeans everyday. And when visiting Snow City in Singapore - you thought you didn't need to rent pants & gloves; what's 32 degrees when it's 90 outside? Um, still freezing, dummy.

Please consider these facts in the future when deciding whether or not to ride in the Cobra after dark in 40 degree December, 25 minutes each way. No one on the road believes you're a fun-lovin' free spirit; they think you're a moron. There is no prize for being the most frozen individual at the party - there isn't even any coffee or tea. Your frost-bitten ears and icy cheeks are not thanking you. And those wind-whipped tears wasted precious milligrams of your new creme shaper for eyes.

To review:







+







ONLY.

maybe the speeding ticket clouds my outlook

I am on a family vacation, but have spent little time with my actual family. My best friend Jen & I drove the six hours here separately because of appointments, commitments, and, well, because we wanted to not experience the closeness of five children in one vehicle for half a day. Once we arrived last night, (after meeting Officer Fink) I had dinner with the kids then it was time for bed. I was too exhausted to hang out in the hot tub with my man. Everyone else went on jet boats from 8am - 2pm today; I declined and spent that time miscalculating distances, writing syllabi for my classes, and generally grousing to myself about this town.

I want to love this place; it has a beautiful beach and an interesting history. Yet every little thing is getting on my last end-of-summer nerve. The grocery store we shopped last night had the in & out doors on the wrong sides, a stinky nasty bottle return was overflowing at the exit, everything was priced as though plated with gold, and there was no discernible order to the aisles. Our beach house is adorable on the outside but, while roomy and outfitted with plenty of dishes, decorated with remnants of somebody's grandma's garage sale. The (only) local bookstore that is touted online as The Largest on the Oregon Coast was not as dreamy as I'd hoped (lacking that old paper/worn floorboards aroma) and its wi-fi cost $2.50 plus a cafe purchase - even though I'd just bought $18 worth of books. There were no NO adorable little bakeries, tea houses, gift shops, or delis. I spied many promising storefronts that ended up being deserted buildings once I'd finally arrived in front of them with my tired, blistered feet. I wish I'd remembered to bring my pedometer; if the tenth of a mile I walk around my house during the course of a day was impressive, today's sad expedition would have been frickin' awe-inspiring.

So I am loving the time I (eventually) get to spend with my family & friends, and I'm glad for having finished some of my school work, and of course thankful that we are all safe, healthy, and able to enjoy a vacation. I can't wait to get home. (Stu will be driving).

more slow, more zen

At the risk of sounding like a deranged traffic reporter in blogger clothing, I have one more story to relate. Yesterday we took our new & improved route to camps - the last day - starting at 8am again. We were ridiculously early to Paige's program (8:30, no other children were there yet), which meant we would arrive before the appointed 8:45 at Mason's class so I lingered a bit. To the point of uncomfortable body language and avoidance of eye contact from the instructors. "Okay, so, that's great I-5 was such a good drive. Oh, there's Pascale! Have a good day..."...Lady who won't leave the classroom and keeps talking about how long it takes to get here every morning...

Fast forward (ha!) to the ride home. I know that Friday afternoons are considered Driving Hell on the freeways, but I've got this new & improved outlook on life so I let the kids play at the Children's Museum for awhile before getting on the road. We left west Portland right at 4:00. Cars were moving, in a ponderous bovine way. No worries - we sang, had snacks, and read. We listened to terrifically inappropriate stories on the radio (my children are now familiar with what Playboy magazine is all about, and are saddened to know that they will not find a stash in our house - right, husband?).

We made it all the way to the east side of the city, just about to get on the second-t0-last highway to our house, and it had only taken an hour! (That's good). Suddenly, Mason was at critical point needing a bathroom. I briefly considered pulling to the side of the road, but we were right at an exit that I knew led directly to a strip mall right off the freeway. Seemed like a very simple, more civil method. What I did not know is that there was no onramp back to the freeway from this area. None. What idiot designed this? my not-so-new & improved-attitude shrieked. I actually had to consult my decade-old Thomas Guide and hope it had all the new roads on the maps. I was excited to see that a nearby major street led straight up to an onramp I recognized. Good news! Got on it no problem, felt smug at my decidedly tricky maneuver, and 30 minutes (yet less than 3 miles) later I was still in line to actually get onto the freeway. Yeah. But only once did I let out my beast voice to announce FROM NOW ON EVERYONE WILL GO TO THE BATHROOM BEFORE LEAVING ANYWHERE ANYTIME. Which sounds a little crazy, but it's better than crashing repeatedly into the innocent drivers around me.

Today, I do laundry.

life in the unbearably slow lane

I know many people find it alarmingly weird that I not only read my horoscope (actually two different ones - on my bathroom calendar & online) everyday, but that I actually keep the info in my brain as I go about my business. And that I read The Secret Language of Birthdays to decide when to have my children but more on that another time; I don't want to completely alienate every reader in one sitting. I like to think of these as easy ways God can talk to me because I am otherwise too busy running around like an idiot to pay attention. I pray about my day each morning (and then periodically every hour or so as I encounter more individuals whom Jesus surely loves but everyone else thinks is an asshole...), but I have a hard time slowing down to really listen to responses. I'm working on that, thus my special room and the amazing Ritva.

Yesterday, Yahoo astrologers told me that others were going to be on their own schedules and I would have to adjust my speed. Now obviously God could just put those turtles in front of me and call it good, but He knows me and is kind enough to give a heads-up so I don't completely lose my mind in public. Case in point: I have been struggling to find the perfect way to get both of my kids to their day camps in Portland (1) reasonably on time and (2) with a sane mother who is not shouting "GO GO GO!" as she screeches to the curb and flings open the door. We were all ready to go with breakfast and without sadness yesterday by 8am. Woohoo! In the car, buckled, pleasant, everyone has lunches, away we go, we're gonna be EARLY! La la la. Oh, did I remember to grab my phone? Wait a minute...My purse. Is not. Here. Picture, those who know the flesh & bone me, my raised fist/growling grimace face move. I was already on the highway, so no turning around - it's backtrack the long way, baby. Sloooooow down, says the Lord. Chuckling and shaking his head, I'm sure. Pointing and saying "Check this one out" to St. Peter, et al. The cool thing is, there was an interesting story on the radio that allowed the kids & I to talk about gratitude and graciousness (which kept me from seething the entire 25 minutes it took to drive home then get back on the highway). Plus we ended up being only 10 minutes late to Mason's class (Paige was right on time). Waddya know?

Then there was this morning. After nine days of taking the same route and getting the same frustrating results (definition of insanity, anyone?), I let go of my well-intentioned-but-stubbornly-stupid controlling tendencies and took the alternate way. Fifteen minutes early for Paige's class, and we would have been exactly on time for Mason's but for a train crossing. A 10-minute/40 mile long train through downtown Portland, but I was okay with it! I sang "Glamorous" and busted some moves while Mason joyfully read a Spider-Man comic. Today I envision Jesus with a proud expression, giving high fives all around and doing the victorious arm-pump thing. I'm learning. Slooooooowwwwly.

free paris!

This is about the funniest thing I've heard all week. I know that's mean and horrible, but there it is. You go, girl. But on foot; you go on foot. Pay attention.

I wonder if she'll start a new trend in brown jumpsuits? That's hot.

[Notice: The news link above has been changed, partly for its hilarious quote but also to relieve the grief I endured from my so-liberal-it-hurts friend who was aghast at my FoxNews link. You're welcome, Michael; start breathing again. Let's hope this small move helps keep The Wall Street Journal out of Rupert's hands...]

why am i the only reasonable driver in the world?

I forgot that my car was invisible this afternoon. No fewer than two people in the parking garage turned in front of me as I politely navigated through. One driver even made eye contact with me as he veered his giant vehicle into my path. Then, of course, I had to follow him to the next available spots, which ended up being near enough that we were forced to share the elevator. In the movie in my mind, I would have smiled sweetly as I let the doors close in front of them. Or said in a cordial tone, "I forgot I was invisible today; I hope it didn't inconvenience you too much." But in real life, where I am nicer and far less witty, I held the elevator door for him & his embarrassed wife, then made a little conciliatory joke to accompany his awkward attempt at levity. But I like to think I said it in a slightly sardonic tone that let him know I think he's a jackass who needs to learn how to drive.