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Friday, May 23, 2003

oh, man... i should have known. Liquid Gold really would work on my shoes.


lemme backtrack a sec: i don't think i said much about last weekend, and working on the boat. (sidenote - most everything seems to happen on the weekends now, and not much of it gets posted because i don't get to the computer until Monday. hm.) well, The Dane and i went down to work on the Cap'n's boat. last week's project was treating the wood (we'd cleaned it the week before). it's a 35 foot boat. a 35 foot wooden boat. that's a lot of wood. i got a little punchy from the fumes at one point, and announced that i now knew perzactly how much work was in a boatload.

we were using Liquid Gold to treat the wood. wipe on, wipe off. smells of almonds. makes the wood glisten and glow and glimmer. i did the fore cabin first, figuring that i'd tackle the biggest piece of work first. then did the aft cabin after lunch, contorting myself into all sorts of interesting positions to get at every last inch of wood. *work*. woodwork. it was actually far easier than scrubbing down all the wood had been the week before. and let me tell you, it was intensely satisfying. i decided to do the floor in the aft cabin, even tho it wasn't finished, because hey, it can't hurt to feed the wood, right?

oh. mi. god. ohmigod. ohmigod! that was my refrain for about an hour. it was stunning how much the wood came back. it went from ash grey to midrange warm brown, matching all the rest of the woodwork. just stunning! i really couldn't get over it. that stuff is just the bomb, i'm telling you. i went from cringing at lunchtime (all i could see was the woodwork and panelling in the restaurant), to skittering around the main cabin, trying to figure out the easiest way to treat the floor in there. i want to make all the woodwork look that good, and i'm even willing to do all the other woodwork in the main cabin first, just to get to the payoff of seeing the floor spring back to glowing life.

anyway, that's the back story. today, standing in the office, i found myself idly thinking 'gee, i really should Liquid Gold my shoes. they're a little scuffed.' wouldn't you know, Liquid Gold would fix my shoes. ;)


:: scribbled at 6:26 PM ... ... o





interesting questions over at the friday five, in that they set off a chain of thought...


questions first:

1. What brand of toothpaste do you use?

right now, Crest Rejuvenating Effects (makes me feel like my teeth will be far perkier than the rest of me in the morning, at least until that first cup of coffee or three).

2. What brand of toilet paper do you prefer?

Scott, individual rolls to fit in the basket next to the toilet, in peach to kinda sorta match the tile in the bathroom (or at least not clash).

3. What brand(s) of shoes do you wear?

other than Tretorn sneakers, i'm not wildly dedicated to any one brand.

4. What brand of soda do you drink?

i come down squarely on the Coke side of the debate when it comes to colas. then there's gingerale, and root beer (IBC), and ginger beer... i tend to go for what i know, but i'll be flexible on most. except for Coke. Pepsi is Evil.

5. What brand of gum do you chew?

none. TMJ will do that for you.

so what this all got me thinking about is brand loyalty. see, i was a Tom's of Maine girl for a long time. also, Stonyfield yogurt, when they still had the good stuff with the cream on top. and i'm pretty much a poster child for the Gap. i still shop at the Gap, even tho their current bra selection disappoints me (they no longer have the good basic all cotton ones with the wide straps). it makes me huffy that i have to go elsewhere now, when they used to have a perfectly good product. and where will i go? Victoria's Secret, which is hideously overpriced, but i can't can't can't go to a department store for a bra. can't do it. i hate the selections there. not really sure why that is... except that they aren't brands that i recognize. odd, isn't it?

even odder, to me, is how disconcerting it can be not to have your brand to use. for example - i stayed over at my best friend's house last weekend. while she and i share many of the same tastes, that cannot be said of our choice in shampoo. and somehow, that threw me, not to have 'my' shampoo. (of course, you could argue that pretty much anything confuses me before caffeine, but that's another discussion.)

hm. i started with a perfectly good train of thought, and it appears to have gotten derailed... *shrug* maybe Fridays before a long weekend just aren't meant for Deep Thoughts. ;)


:: scribbled at 2:14 PM ... ... o



Thursday, May 22, 2003

oh, and just because...


no, i haven't seen it yet (altho i've seen The Matrix about a half dozen times lately). but i did find this article on The Matrix Reloaded: Gnosis Reloaded. figured i'd point it out for those of you (all of you) who've actually made it to the movie theatre. ;)


:: scribbled at 8:19 PM ... ... o





speaking of driving...


i realized the other day that i'm about due for another mix tape for the car, seeing as how i've had the last few on repeat for, oh, say, a few *years*. driving along at top speed, hollering along with Rusted Root, made me think that good music makes the drive all the better. so, i'm working on a list of 'top of yer lungs' songs. first three are:

On My Way - Rusted Root
At The Fairground - John Wesley Harding
Once In a Lifetime - Talking Heads

what do you think? what else should go on the tape? and would you like a copy when i'm done? 'cuz i'll dupe you one and send it along if you'd like; i'm good like that. :)


:: scribbled at 7:49 PM ... ... o





alright, alright. it hasn't been as all bad as the last entry would have you suppose.


when i went to write, that just happened to be a particularly whinge-inducing moment (altho i've gotten some good comic mileage out of it today).

so how has it been? well, a bit of a melange. good word, isn't it? try saying it out loud. melange. may-lahn-juh. may-lunge. melange. fun. but i babble...

it's been some up, some down, some just getting thru. the downs have, unfortunately, been somewhat spectacular. i want to talk about them a little, to get them out of my head, make them smaller, make it easier to put them in perspective. (feel free to skip the next paragraph or two, dear reader. there are cows later in the story, if you prefer.)

maybe down isn't quite the way to describe it - more that everything feels fairly precarious, and it takes almost nothing for me to burst into tears. what makes it spectacular, i guess, is that such a very tiny thing can garner such a very big response from me, and part of my brain recognizes that my reaction is out of proportion, which makes me skitter fast and hard to make it better, almost guaranteeing that i'm make the situation exponentially worse in a nanosecond. things like flinging my garage pass out of the window and having to put on the hand brake to get out and find it while other cars line up behind me (you know i tried to drive off with the brake still on, don't you?). things like feeding three pennies into the self-pay machine in the supermarket to get rid of some change, only to get 99 cents spewed back at me (i don't know why it didn't see the third penny; it wasn't even Canadian.). things like running late and then locking myself out of the house (and i couldn't go get the spare keys which were nearly in New Hampster, because doing that without my license would ensure being pulled over, wouldn't it?).

okay, that last one is probably worth getting fussed over. my landlord did come over and rescue me in relatively short order, but i had to deal with a next door neighbor of whom i'm not especially fond, and my landlord joked around about taking hours, and i had just called The Dane to say i was on my way, and i couldn't call back with the 'change of plans' until i got back into the house... oh, yeah. that one had me in a good stew.

but then there are nice things, like an unexpected discovery at lunch the other day - the red house (yes, they use all lower case), a new restaurant over by the House of Blues on Winthrop Street. we (The Dane and i) were headed to the HOB, in the snizzly rain, when i saw pretty flowers out of the corner of my eye and was instantly derailed. 'ooooo... wassat?' like a moth to the flame, i swear. they've been working on rehabbing this house for ages, and i've been worried that we'd lose another older building to 'progress'. turns out, it's been gently improved. ;) i asked if we could nose around, just to see, and wandered thru the whole place. lots of old wood, plenty of warm tones, a few private dining rooms that preserve the nice bits of the old house, a new slate stone patio, and a main dining room with a perfectly lovely sky light - huge dome with wooden struts that make me think a little of a bicycle wheel.

oh, and the food... the owner or chef (not quite clear how things are set up) is someone who's been feeding me, here in the Square, for years. he used to run the take out section of Harvest (! - yeah, that's how long. no comments.), then did the bit over at Gianinos, and now has this place. he's never fed me a bad meal. our waiter started us with a little wire bin of bread - two kinds, black olive and asiago cheese. mmmm. mopped up plenty of rosemary olive oil with those little treats, i'm tellin' ya. we split a house salad (mixed greens, balsamic dressing, red onions in delicate little slivers, and walnuts), and i got the lobster ravioli topped with a shrimp and grappa sauce, and The Dane had a poached halibut topped with roasted peppers. dessert was (of course we got dessert!) a slice of deep chocolate cake, which theoretically had apricot in it, but all i could taste was chocolate - which was fine. all in all, a fine way to spend a lunch hour.

and some of it is just getting thru. i don't especially like driving long distances if i can help it, but it's become unavoidable lately. so i hunt out a good radio station, crank up the tunes, and try to think about harmless things while slogging down the highway. The Dane lives some distance from here, you see. quite some distance. i was thinking about directions on the drive up the other day, and they're actually pretty funny - 'drive a good long way, past the cows, over the bridge, and hang a right at the bait shop.' no, really. that's how you go.

i've also been thinking about cars, naturally, while driving. there are a couple of cars i really like; while my dream car is still the MG, i'm quite partial to the Mini Cooper and the PT Cruiser. plus, i'm very excited that the new convertible Bug is out. (this throws a spanner in the punch buggy game, as Chica and i will have to rejigger the point system, but that's fine.) but damn, there are some ugly cars out there. witness the phenomenally boxy to the point of silliness Honda Element. you can try to tell me it's cutting edge design. i think cutting edge shouldn't translate to edges i could cut myself on. i'm really hoping that one doesn't catch on.

so. driving a lot, thinking a lot, trying not to think too much about things that don't warrant it, and having the occasional splurge lunch is pretty much where it's at. sort of the long, ramble-y way to say it, but there you have it. and thank you so much to everyone who's written or called; you have no idea how much it helps. you rock. :)


:: scribbled at 7:44 PM ... ... o





somewhat unsurprising...


trinity

You are Trinity. The most loyal follower of Morpheus, you will risk anything to help him, whether your crush Neo likes it or not. You are strong-willed, and it's always either your way, or the highway.

"No? Let me tell you what I believe. I believe Morpheus means more to me than he does to you. I believe if you're really serious about saving him, you are going to need my help. And since I am the ranking officer on this ship, if you don't like it, I believe you can go to hell. Because you aren't going anywhere else."


What Character From The Matrix Are You?
brought to you by Quizilla

(courtesy of shelley, who is apparently the Neo to my Trinity. *wink*)


:: scribbled at 12:05 PM ... ... o



Wednesday, May 21, 2003

oh, oh, oh man. it's been one of those days.


started with way too much driving, middled with rain, ended with a complete cringe moment wherein i felt as if i got caught with my hand in the cookie jar. toss in a brand spanky new machine on my desk, and you've got a complete menu of discomfiture. :/

*sigh* i hope to rectify all of that with a full night of quality kitty time. strat and i haven't gotten any time together the last four days, and i miss my little buddy.


:: scribbled at 6:20 PM ... ... o



Tuesday, May 20, 2003

ever have the sensation that someone is watching you?


i'm pretty sure this guy has been, because he seems to know an awful lot about my office: day by day.


:: scribbled at 5:17 PM ... ... o





unconscious mutterings :


Naked:: lunch
Singular:: destiny
Particle:: board
Unified:: theory
Lion:: winter
Capitulate:: catapult
Quantum:: electrodynamics
Celestial:: navigation
Motion:: sensor
Delight:: childlike


:: scribbled at 5:12 PM ... ... o



Monday, May 19, 2003

'what is it you're afraid of?'

'failure. always.'

the panic is always there, altho most times i can ignore it. lately, tho, it has become my constant companion, just below the surface. my heart starts racing in the middle of the night, enough to wake me up, in response to something my mind is worrying over (i picture a smallish little creature, caramel brown with pointy ears, hunched up in a corner, fussing something around and around in its hands). everything seems fraught with risk.

trying to buy a soda yesterday nearly reduced me to tears. all i wanted was a vanilla Coke. Chica and i had just finished up at the Home Improvement MegaMart, and she thought she'd seen a vending machine outside the store. there was one, with what must have once been an out of order sign, now just a puckered, faded paper plastered on the plastic. we tried a grocery store across the way; i went in and started scouting the coolers by the registers, feeling guilty that Chica was sitting out in the car (i'm taking too long she's waiting to finish her errands why am i taking so long why is this store so big?). the last one had regular Coke, and as i was getting one, i glanced up to see a vending machine. regular Coke back in the cooler, around the corner to the vending machine. i plunk a single in the slot, look around, and look back to see my dollar sitting on the floor. three separate bills, tried eleventeen different ways, and no success. the panic is creeping up around me, and i dart over to the customer service counter to get change. as he's getting the quarters, i make small talk to stave off the panic, mentioning that the machine doesn't seem to like my bills.

'oh, the change won't help. the machine doesn't work.' *blink* 'oh, it's been broken for a while. there aren't any sodas in it.' did i miss a sign? 'no.'

it took all i had to not wail out loud, to not feel as if i'd failed some sort of test, to buy a regular Coke, and to get back out to the car. retelling the story to Chica as we drove home made her laugh and took some of the sting away. but the panic is still there.

and the bitch of it is that it feeds in on itself, until it becomes all encompassing. every situation seems to have sharp, jagged edges, and my only goal is to avoid slicing myself up. i can't seem to react normally to anything these days. we (Chica and i) between us managed to snap off a large part of the azalea bush we were moving, and i started babbling apologies. if you haven't met her, Chica is one of the most laid back individuals going. it took a few minutes for me to realize that she really didn't care that we'd halved the size of her azalea with a little inadvertent pruning. really didn't care, didn't think it was my fault. i've known her for a dozen years or so, and i should have known she really didn't care, or at least accepted it when she said it. but all i could see was the poor little azalea branch, lying in the middle of the yard.

i don't know how to tame this damn beast. i do know that i hate being like this, hate that i've let the panic spiral into a life of its own. i do know that this - timid, quiet, still, scared - is not who i am, is not how i am. i do know that i've beaten this before. i don't know how to do it this time, but i do know that i will, that i will find my way back to myself again, to myself and my family and friends.


:: scribbled at 4:40 PM ... ... o



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