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At keeping multiple blogs maintained.
I relied quite heavily on LoudTwitter to tweet my updates here, as I've been spending a lot of time on it.
And by a lot, I mean A LOT. More time spent on Twitter than WoW... and considering I got my priest to 62 (halfway to 63) you should have an idea.
On wow, I dual spec'd the priest, so she's both holy and shadow. I hate holy with a passion. I love it for groups and dungeons, but in th wow world all alone, holy is the suck. Shadow is where it's at.
Umm... I set an appointment to get my hair done. Next Saturday to my chagrin, as that's the next day off I have that's not a Sunday. My boss is a dink who's given me 4 days off this month total. And I've already had 2 of them. The third is Sunday... yea... loving my job.
but it lets me play wow, so it's not all bad.
And, I'm goal setting and trying to get myself back on track lifewise. We'll see how this goes.
I'm in need of a new eye liner. I'm suddenly hung up on Smashbox's smudge pot or MAC's fluidline.
umm...
I don't think there's much more of note for me to post about. I'm sure I"ll come up with something at some point. But now I have to get ready to go out. We're going for dinner and the drive in
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http://www.sundrymourning.com/2009/07/10/my-life-at-the-moment/ http://www.sundrymourning.com/?p=2313 ” . . . up.”
“Up. Up.”
grunt grunt grunt grunt
“UP!”
” . . . ”
“Up! Up! Up! Up! Up! Up! Up! Up! Up! UPPPPP! UUUUUUUUUUUUUUP!”
*boost*
“!!!!”
” . . . ”
” . . . ”
“. . . Doon.”
” . . . ”
“Doon! Doon! Doon! Doon! Doon! Doon! Doon! DOOOOOON! DOOOOOOOOOOOOOON!”
echo This is an infinite loop goto START
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http://www.sundrymourning.com/2009/07/08/new-vistas/ http://www.sundrymourning.com/?p=2310 I recently did some tongue-lolling, finger-counting math and realized that when Riley was about the same age Dylan is now—a little older, but not much—I was newly pregnant. I found this so hard to believe I actually had to go back to my own blog to check the dates because surely I was forgetting a year or two in there? I mean, there’s no way in hell I actually got pregnant on purpose when I was already spending my every waking hour chasing a squirrel-cheeked WMD around, right? But it’s true, I DID, and not only that, but it took me several months months to get knocked up, so the even crazier part is that we started gunning for WMD #2 when Riley was, like, barely walking.
I’m not sure why I can barely wrap my head around this concept. Maybe it’s that life with two kids is so much harder than one, or maybe it’s that I know we’re done now and the entire notion of pregnancy has moseyed back into the realm of Oh HELL No, but looking back on that choice from this perspective is like fondly recalling that one time I decided to climb Everest. Without oxygen. Naked.
Which is to say, I can’t believe my husband wasn’t kissing my ass every second of every day during that second pregnancy (theme: No One Gives a Shit About Your Myriad Physical Complaints This Time), because that was some hardcore shit right there. If I think raising a tiny demented toddler is brain-searingly difficult now, I’ve totally blocked out the experience of doing so while my body was also busy, you know, creating an entirely new human being. I never properly appreciated my ability to multi-task, nor did I take the time to congratulate myself for surviving what was surely a near-deadly combination of life’s blessings.
I’m sure there will come a point when I miss having little babies, and maybe even wistfully long for the riotous flatulence of pregnancy, but these days I am leaning closer towards the sweet nature of my boys growing up. I feel like I keep getting a glimpse of what’s to come, and there’s this whole amazing new landscape to be discovered. If it wasn’t exactly the easiest path to get here, I’m still so glad we took it. I’m sure it will always be hard, I’m sure there will be a thousand new challenges in our future. But for every moment thus far that’s shaken me to my core with happiness, I suspect the best times are still to come.
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You guys, Freecycle is so great. I know it's been around awhile but I just joined our local Columbus chapter (which is run through a Yahoo group, don't know if that's the norm or not). I've already unloaded three bags of old Beanie Babies and tonight I'm going to offer up some old upholstery fabric I have lying around in the basement, possibly two pieces of wall art that I don't have wall space for. It's nice to know these things can go to someone who wants them, and to not have to pay for shipping. And I found someone who needed a Verizon compatible cell phone, and I just happen to have an old one lying around in a drawer!
Demand was high for those Beanie Babies. I've gotten at least ten emails about them.
So last night Eric and I ventured out to Grove City to pick up a set of metal shelves I'd gotten from Craigslist. They're for the kitchen. They ended up being a bit larger and with fewer actual shelves than I was envisioning but that's ok. I honestly don't much care how they look, I just want more storage in the kitchen. I may need to get some small stackable shelf type things for them, though, otherwise I'll have a ton of wasted vertical space between the shelves. Last night I cleaned out a lot of the rarely-used stuff from the pantry...the more exotic spices, Eric's eleventybillion jars of spice blends, cheeseball mixes and the like, and put them in a Rubbermaid on the top shelf. Much more room in the pantry now, and some things were even able to be moved to the door-mounted spice rack.
I know, my kitchen reorganization is soooo fascinating.
WRT the brief post I made last night about Crazy Freelance Client offering to pay me in gold doubloons or some shit, I can only say that at this point, I'm starting to enjoy this guy. He's so crazy it's entertaining. I will never see a penny from him. I could take him to small claims court, but he won't show up and won't ever pay the judgment. One minute he's apologizing to me and swearing to pay me, the next minute he's making fun of me, the next minute he's cussing me out, the next minute he's asking me to collaborate with him on a children's book so I can get paid from the riches we are sure to net from this endeavor.
They grow 'em strange in Latvia, is all I can say.
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http://www.sundrymourning.com/2009/07/06/july-4th-getaway/ http://www.sundrymourning.com/?p=2302 Campfires, salamanders, skip-flat rocks, unwashed hair, musty sleeping bags, fast-melting ice cream bars, cousins-aunts-uncles-grandparents-friends, wet towels, waterbirds, plastic shovels, creaking boat oars, the startle-flop of a hooked fish, smelly lifejackets, crispy molten-centered marshmallows, evening bats, lingering gunpowder smoke. Summer!
On the way to the Vincent Creek/Smith River area last Thursday night. We drove down to the cabin from Seattle, left Dylan with his grandparents, re-packed the truck and headed out another 45 minutes to get to the campsite.
The official campground was full and we were thinking well shit when JB spotted a tiny drivable spot that led down to the water.
It was shallow enough to cross and we—okay, mostly JB—shlepped all our camping gear over to a beautiful stretch of rocks on the other side of the river. (I know, right? Hello beefcake.)
Totally secluded area, gorgeous scenery, child losing his mind with the joy of his first camping trip. My god, what more could a person ask for?
OH THAT’S RIGHT: MARSHMALLOWS.
If you don’t burn your marshmallow to a flaming ball of sugary death, peel off the crispy blackened carcinogenic layer, eat it, then burn the insides at least two more times, I don’t even want to know you.
JB found a bunch of these creepy motherfuckers and proceeded to freak us right the hell out by picking them up with his actual fingers.
Later, Riley and I pretended to be crawdads. PINCH PINCH PINCH OH HO HO I GOT YOU HA HA HA listen it’s funny if you’re three.
I wish Dylan was in this photo, but I don’t wish that hard enough to second-guess our decision not to bring him, because this would have been an entirely different experience had we been chasing a toddler around the rocks/water/open flames the whole time. Next year, little D.
We came back to the cabin on Friday, and that’s where we stayed for the rest of the weekend. JB and his brother carried out their annual Boomapalooza over the river, and it was awesome as always.
Riley stuck it out for the small fireworks . . .
. . . although he wasn’t too happy about them. Once the big ones started, he assumed his usual position inside the cabin with Grandma, who is another member of Team I Hate Loud-Ass Explosions.
The weather was phenomenal all weekend and we spent a lot of time on the water.
It’s hard to tell in this picture but you should be totally impressed and shit because that rock I just jumped off was about fifty seven trillion feet high. I’m pretty badass, especially with my plugged nose and all.
Riley got to hang out with his cousin Brodie and you can just tell they’re going to be friends forever. I love seeing those two playing together.
I feel like I take this exact photo every time we go to the cabin, but what can I say, it’s pretty out there.
Who’s tired from this perfect summer weekend? All of us, man.
Last, I’ll leave you with probably the most patriotic video ever captured in the history of mankind. It’s so goshdarn all-American in its content I will caution that your boss may not appreciate you playing the audio at top volume, so you may want to consider turning down your speakers before enjoying.
Happy Fourth of July, Bald Eagle! from Linda Lee on Vimeo.
Happy fuckin’ 4th of July, friends. Hope you had a good one.
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Oh. My. God.
Crazy Freelance Client, who it turns out is in Latvia, just offered to pay me...in gold.
Yeah. Gold coins.
I need to write a book about this.
ETA: Now they're offering me free web design.
ETA2: When I refused both, they've just told me to fuck off and go ahead and sue them and they'll never pay. This just gets better and better.
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If you had to nominate a band for Indie-Alternative Rock godhood, who would it be? A band that inspires other bands, a band that's talked about with reverence by other indie rockers, a band that blazes trails and sets standards?
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Today I am busy saving myself money.
I'd planned for some expenses during my giant two-month-long pre-surgery home reorganization and spring cleaning. I planned to buy a convertible sofa for the basement, which I'd wanted before and will now need for my mother to sleep on. I'd figured about $200-$300 for this based on the sofas I'd priced out. Today I decided i'd just buy an inflatable bed and worry about the sofa later...inflatable beds are good to have anyway. I found a really nice one, queen-sized with an elevated mattress so it's high like a real bed, on Amazon for $60. I also wanted some shelves for the kitchen to increase our storage space. I figured Container Store, about $100. I went on Craigslist today and found a guy who had six-shelf units, three feet wide and six feet tall, for $20 each. They're a tad metal and garage-ish, but I honestly don't much care what they look like. Maybe i'll spray paint them red or something. I'm going to buy two because you can never have too many shelves in the basement, right?
Then I am busy MAKING myself money. I've got articles for a men's magazine to write, possibly three, then that "Don't Be That Guy" column, plus my movie preview article.
I might not move from in front of this laptop today.
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Happy 4th of July, everyone!
Growing up I always loved the 4th. We used to have a picnic at my grandmother's house. You could easily see the fireworks from her backyard. You can't anymore because the trees have gotten too big between her and the riverfront.
As soon as I finish my protein shake I'm going to run to the USPS and drop off some packages, then go to the grocery store to pick up ingredients for the pasta salad I'm making for Dayna's cookout.
I had a bad moment this morning. I woke up and my throat was just slightly scratchy. I panicked a little because hello, surgery in less than two weeks, and I can't get a cold right now. I'm guessing they'd reschedule me if that happened. But it doesn't feel like my usual pre-sick sore throat (isn't sore) and I think is probably the result of accidentally getting a big lungful of oven cleaner last night. It feels fine now. But some Emergen-C couldn't hurt.
Just had something weird happen, too. I went to iTunes because I wanted to buy "Brothers in Arms" by Dire Straits, because that song is teh awesome. So I did, and it started downloading...along with 12 other tracks. I'm all, wtf? I look and it's also downloading Coldplay's "Viva la Vida" album, which I...already have. I don't know why. I don't seem to have been charged for it, so whatever.
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Okay, y'all. I must alert you to an amazing product that I can no longer live without after having used it for about two days.
Last week the lovely and talented ![[info]](http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif) laurelwood posted about her love of Charlie's Soap, a safe, natural, all-purpose soap that comes in exactly two varieties: all-purpose cleaner and laundry soap (liquid and powder). The website has a lot of interesting material about how traditional laundry detergents do less cleaning and more scenting and waxing.
I was interested, so I ordered some. It's not expensive. The laundry soap...of which you only use one tablespoon per load of laundry...comes in a cute little cloth bag that does 80 loads for $16. The sprayer of all-purpose cleaner was about the same price, but you can get a gallon of refills that fills up 8 sprayers for about $22.
I did some laundry with the powder. It's so...surreal. This tiny little scoop of powder...you can barely see it! No suds! Of course, I'm a chemist, I'm well aware that lather and suds are actually for show and real cleaning does not require suds. But it's weird.
The thing with Charlie's Soap is that there isn't any smell. So the clothes don't have the detergent smell, they just smell like clean fabric. And you don't use fabric softener, because the soap goes through the clothes and you don't need it.
I was dubious. Until I used it.
The clothes came out feeling cleaner to the touch than ever. They were soft and fresh and I used NOTHING but that tablespoon of Charlie's Soap. I first washed some dingy-ish dishtowels and they came out brighter. They didn't have that stiffness and slight waxiness that comes from putting a lot of shit into the laundry.
I'm a convert.
Tonight I tried the all-purpose cleaner for the first time. My jaw, she is on the floor. I used it on my microwave (mounted above the stove) and the stove itself. Now, there's always been a little filmy greasiness on the micro and oven door that other cleaners never seemed to touch. I sprayed on Charlie's Soap and let it sit for a little while (the site recommended this) and...holy cow. Everything was spotless. That residual gunkiness was gone, gone, gone.
I love it. I want to spray it on everything. According to the bottle it can be used on "anything washable."
Go. Try it.
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Gyllennews!
Finally, word of one of the two films Jake's filmed in the last two years (the other being the David O. Russell film "Nailed" which looks to be quite the trainwreck).
Trailer for "Brothers" in which he and Tobey Maguire FINALLY play brothers. Also stars Natalie Portman. Schweeet.
Jake is all tough-guy ex-con with a neck tattoo in this, too.
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Calling crafters.
I have a seriously huge amount of quilting fabric. Every color of the rainbow, various prints, I think they're mostly fat quarters but don't take my word on that. It's probably at least 20 pounds worth, maybe more.
I would like it to not be here.
If anyone wants it, I'll send it to you if you'll pay for the shipping. I'm not sure how much it'll be but I can find out.
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Hello all! I know, I've been quiet this week, I've been preoccupied with a number of things including a freelance project gone horribly awry. Long story. Anyway today is a holiday and I plan to make myself useful. Do some laundry, clean the Nerd Lair, maybe do some kitchen reorg. A trip to The Container Store is possible.
The 4th will likely be low key. Dayna's having a few people over for burgers and stuff. We'll be able to see the local fireworks from her yard. The el-huge-o Columbus fireworkes explosaganza, Red White & Boom, is tonight. Wild horses could not drag me there. There's eleventybillion people, loud music, beer being spilled...at least it wouldn't be sweltering this year, as we're having unseasonably cool weather and it's only 72 degrees. It might be downright chilly by the time the fireworks go asplodey.
So I've been acquiring new vintage needlepoint for my Stairwell of Kitsch. And it occurred to me that as much as I've talked about it, I've never posted any photos of said stairwell. So here you go.
I think the big butterfly one is my favorite that's on the wall right now. Some of the detail is lost in photography. For example, those pair of trees that are to the upper left of the butterflies? The lower one is puffy. I love that.
This is what it looks like now, but a lot of the new pieces are quite large, so I think I'll be taking most of this stuff down and starting from scratch once everything arrives, rearranging everything.
Here are the new pieces.
And this one's my favorite:
Those are MUSHROOMS, y'all. Painstakingly rendered in marigold, avocado and goldenrod. You can practically hear the John Denver music and feel the shag carpeting beneath your feet. LOVE.
One thing I love about these needlepoints is the mystery of who made them. These things aren't mass-produced, someone spent hours and hours carefully stitching them. Did they do it for themselves? Were they gifts? Where have they hung before, and how many walls have they graced? It's interesting to imagine the trip these little guys have taken to end up in my Stairwell of Kitsch.
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http://www.sundrymourning.com/2009/07/01/one-trick-pony/ http://www.sundrymourning.com/?p=2277 The most difficult thing for me about writing fiction (other than the time constraints, the interruptions, the laptop-induced carpal tunnel, the unfamiliar and horrifyingly pervasive sense of writer’s block, and the gaping black hole in my brain where things like “grammar” and “punctuation” are supposed to live, that is) is the realization that my memory isn’t just bad, it’s terrible. It seems to me that one of the key elements in being a really good writer is the ability to draw upon past experiences with clarity and intensity, that even if you’re writing pure fiction describing events that never actually happened it’s immensely helpful if you can remember certain aspects of life you’ve experienced firsthand in order to create a believable, solid framework for your story.
Take The Glass Castle, for instance. I mean, even if it turned out that Walls’ book was not based on fact, you’ve got to hand it to her for creating a fully authentic, exquisitely detailed account of someone’s childhood, and a lot of that has to come from remembering what it’s like to be young, right? And if it’s all true, well what the FUCK, how does a person have such a phenomenal memory that they can vividly describe conversations and emotions that happened thirty years ago or more?
I wonder if spending 7+ years writing online has had an effect on how I think about that stuff. When you’re so used to writing down things that are happening at the moment, maybe it becomes harder to dig deeper for the things that require a different access method, you know? It’s certainly affected my patience; I feel like I’m trying to switch from having short conversations to carrying out a terribly long-winded monologue where my voice just drones on and on and ON and oh my god, self, shut UP. Plus, there’s this entirely different concept of having to keep coming back to the story, whether I want to or not—I can’t just merrily toss it out to sea like all the little bobbing bottles saved on this website.
In short, this whole writing endeavor is about a thousand times harder than I had guessed it would be, and dude, I was already operating under the assumption that it would be really damn hard. As for a progress report, I completely scrapped the first 3000 or so words of the story I was starting to write and went back to the drawing board so now I have, like, four paragraphs of this so-called book and it starts with someone with a gun in their mouth. Yeah, I’m not sure either.
Anyway, I have some ideas for where I’d maybe like to take the story and I could use some help from you guys, if you’re willing. I’m looking to talk with people who have worked interesting jobs and wouldn’t mind describing them to me. Anything that’s a little out of the ordinary but recognizable—like, say, a dog groomer, floral arranger, bike mechanic, rafting guide . . . that kind of thing. If you’re so inclined, hit me up in the comments or via email, I’d love to hear from you.
In non-writing news, we’re heading back down to Oregon this weekend for a long holiday at the cabin. I predict lots of whining about the drive, a complete disregard for eating healthfully, and the familiar epiphany that no matter how good of a time you’re having, if the kids are there, it’s not really a vacation.
Whatever you’re up to this weekend, may your fingers be fireworks-injury-free, your crappy food be plentiful, and your family not drive you completely batshit. See you next week!
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http://www.sundrymourning.com/2009/06/29/short-cuts/ http://www.sundrymourning.com/?p=2274 • If you’re reading this in a feed reader and you’ve noticed that all of a sudden the feed is doing that asshole thing where you only get the first few sentences and then you have to click through, I’m sorry! I don’t know why this is happening, because the settings are configured for “full text” instead of “summary”, which is all I really know to check, so . . . yeah. Suck. I now embody one of my own pet peeves! Next up: possessive apostrophes on plural nouns, slurp-mmmmming my coffee, and blogging about blogging! Wait.
• Speaking of blogging (slurrrrrp . . . . mmmmmmm), are you going to BlogHer this year? I am, and I’m looking forward to visiting Chicago, albeit briefly. I’m also looking forward to seeing old friends and making new ones, and let’s not lie, I’m very much looking forward to forging a close personal relationship with my hotel bed and the room service menu. Yes, yes, the parties, but come on, the crème brûlée.
• The other day I was woefully picking at my chipped toenail polish and thinking how I wished someone would do the job of re-painting my toes for me and maybe filing the rough spots away and making the cuticles all pretty, like wouldn’t it be great if I could just outsource these tasks altogether, and I realized I was in the midst of inventing a revolutionary new concept in personal care. I call it: the pedicure. I think this is going to be BIG.
• It kills me how small children have no discernible elbows, knuckles, or knees. Dylan can run at full speed and climb and even jump, but he still looks like he’s formed entirely out of sake-fed veal. Pass the fava beans, Chianti, and toddler, please.
• I read something recently that I found immensely comforting and lovely and I instantly dog-eared the page so I could come back to it whenever I liked, and I thought some of you might enjoy it too:
She used to think she needed to know things to be the mother. How to fix things, make everything better. And she couldn’t, she just didn’t know how. She felt sometimes not like a mother but like an older sister with an impatient streak. But one weekend when her oldest daughter was afraid she was losing her baby, she spoke to her son-in-law on the telephone. Shyly she asked him, “Do you think I should come?”
“My wife needs her mother,” said her son-in-law, and in that second she understood all at once and forever everything she needed to know. And she got on the bus directly and went out to their house and she sat by her daughter’s bed and held her hand. She stayed in the room until her daughter fell asleep and she was there when her daughter woke. She is grateful forever to him for saying the right thing at the right moment because her life changed right there on that dime. And the baby is fourteen years old. Hallelujah.
– Safekeeping: Some True Stories from a Life, by Abigail Thomas
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Okay, more detail about ScamGate 2009, over and above my incoherent ARGHing of a few minutes ago.
I've been stepping up my freelance work the past few weeks in a new push to pay off credit card debt. I landed a good Wikipedia-article writing job that'll be for this week, and then another job that was like a godsend...good money for work that was time-consuming but not mentally taxing, which was just what I needed.
My freelance website handles all the money for me, which is great. You can send invoices, or request escrow. The employer deposits money in the escrow, then you request its release when the job is done. This is what I did for this second project, call it the List Project (because it was compiling lists). The first escrow was for $500. I finished the work, the money was deposited, then released, and I requested the withdrawal to my bank.
The employer was pleased and asked if I'd do another slightly smaller project of the same kind for $400. I said of course. So the money went into escrow, I started the project. I sent half of the work to them last night.
This morning I got an email from the employer saying "Feel free to send the second part any time." I couldn't, as I'm at work and didn't have it with me and I wasn't quite done.
Not THREE MINUTES later, I get an email from Guru (my freelance website) informing me that the employer was not authorized to use the credit card that was used to pay the escrow. So they had no choice but to cancel my withdraw request.
Of course I emailed the employer and informed them that until this money situation was cleared up, they'd be getting no more work from me. But I'm suspicious of the timing of their last email, like they wanted to get as much out of me before I got word that they weren't paying me. Whaddaya bet I never hear from them again and never get paid?
I'm not out any money, just time. But it was money I had started to plan around having, you know?
I'll say that in two years of freelancing on this website nothing like this has ever happened to me before.
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AAAAAARRRRRRRRGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHH
A freelance employer may have just gypped me out of $900.
AAAAARRRRRRRGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHHH
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Weekly or biweekly free time requirements (4) An employer shall give an employee a period free from the performance of work equal to,
(a) at least 24 consecutive hours in every work week; or
(b) at least 48 consecutive hours in every period of two consecutive work weeks. 2000, c. 41, s. 18 (4).
That note above, it's taken directly from the Employment standards act in Ontario. Simply put, it's indicating that this month, between the period of July 13 and July 30, my boss is breaking the law by having me scheduled for 6-9 hours a day, EVERY day.
And while the ESA is on my side should I bring this point up, it's against me in the fact that I'm still within my 90 days. Meaning, they couldn't fire me for bring it up, but they could fire me because I don't brush my hair, or I'm cross eyed.
And, I almost feel like working this 18 day stretch is setting a precident. Like he can come back and say to me later, "well you did it before".
Sometimes, I hate how employment law is stacked in favor of the employer. I"m stuck between a rock and a hard place where I will be working this 18 day period, and should it happen again in Aug... I guess I"ll just have to speak up then.
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![[info]](http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/syndicated.gif){kind=small}
crazy
busy
cheerful
angry