Monthly Archives: October 2010

the tyranny of the blank page

… is nothing to the tyranny of the itty-bitty scrap of screen real estate that WordPress allows for composing a new blog post. Oh, they try to make the interface look all clean with the white and the pale gray and the tiny blue letters, but really, how can you clear your mind with all this onscreen clutter? And how can you get an overview of your post when you can only see 2×5 inches of text at a time? Also, my spacebar is malfunctioning, argh. Shakespeare never had to put up with this crap.

So anyway, I turned 40. I worked from home with the kids rattling around, basically a normal day, but I have a good life, so the normal days are good days. And since then I’ve been working too much to think about being 40.

It is a kind of a milestone, you know? If you don’t yet have the life you want, 40 says it’s time to get your butt in gear. And I suppose I have most of my ducks in a row: I have a job-job (in contrast to the joblet and the freelance stuff I had before, and actually still have, which is why I’m still working on the weekend). The kids are becoming vaguely humanoid, although that may not stay true; they’re pretty much raising themselves now that I’m working so much. The marriage seems reasonably healthy, although as it is my first one, I don’t really have a basis for comparison, I guess. I have friends. I have time to knit. I’ve managed to make people think I can speak Dutch, which is almost like actually being able to speak it.

The Fitness Duck is emphatically NOT in a row – dance/yoga/whatever classes are hella expensive, and now that I’m working and can afford them, I can’t spare the time. Also, my ankle still wants to rest. Stupid ankle. And I am feeling puffy and depressed because my clothes are too tight but other than that they’re perfectly good so I can’t throw them away which means there would be no place to put new ones, if I were to go out and buy them. I’ve been trying, sort of, a little bit, but shopping makes me feel stabby.

Okay, so clearly 40 hasn’t brought about any major personality changes. Looks like I will manage to grow old without growing up…

Song du jour of the day: Imitation of Life, by REM.


bye, thirties

Hi, thought I’d just check in on this, my last day as a 30-something. Not sure how I feel about it, because I have very carefully Not Thought About It. La la la forty, I cannot HEAR YOU, is what I’ve been muttering. Maybe I’ll check back tomorrow and let you know if I feel any different.

Song du jour of the day: Sweetest Girl, by Wyclef Jean, Akon, and Lil Wayne.


in which I go to London and fall into a hole

Scene: London, The Past.

So usually I go to Benediktbeuern in mid-September. Well, two years in a row – that counts as usual, right? And I couldn’t go last year, because of the recently-moved freaked-out-family thing. And then I couldn’t go this year because that very weekend was the one selected for our neighborhood block-party, and I really do want to try to get to know the neighbors this time. So but not going to Benediktbeuern meant I could go to London in early September with the Dutch Knitters, which are basially Carla and Hilly doing all the work, and the rest of us showing up most Tuesdays for Stitch-n-Bitch. So we went – I rode the Eurostar! – and mostly sat at a table and handed out Stroopwaffels (toffee-waffles) and Muntjes (mints) and answered questions and it was fun. And I also saw Nigel, so all in all a pretty good weekend, right up until the last bit.

The next-to-last bit was dinner in Chinatown with like eight people, and at one point a herd of Hare Krishnas scampered past, chanting and drumming and accordioning (… I didn’t know they did accordions…) which wouldn’t have been all that remarkable except that maybe ten minutes later a blonde woman in a sari came pelting up to us and asked, “Did you see a large group of people pass by, chanting?” and then raced off after them when we answered in the affirmative. Hm.

And then the others headed back to their hotel and Nigel and my friend Brent and I headed toward Piccadilly Circus and it was crowded with Saturday-night people, and I was thinking those girls in their 6-inch heels had better be careful when VWOOP – me and my sensible Chuck Taylors went ass-over-teakettle into an unexpected hole in the sidewalk.

Dang, that hurt.

So, Dutch medical care! Have you seen Madagascar 2? The bit where if a giraffe gets sick he goes to sit in a hole and wait for death? Basically they sent me home to wait for it to get better. Told me to “take it easy.” Excuse me, but did these people not have mothers?

Well I worked from home for two days. Iced it. Taped it. Elevated it. Bitched a lot. Figured that was enough. And it got better for about a week, but then it stopped getting… betterer… and has remained twingy and annoying ever since. Yesterday I went to the doctor for something else, and said incidentally, why the HELL is my ankle still puffy and hurty, and she said I need to be patient, it hasn’t even been six weeks yet. She says these things take time. DrBob agrees. I am vastly annoyed by this.

Grr.

Song du jour of the day: Heavy Like Sunday, by Leona Naess


i keep doing that thing

… that thing I do, where I have forty skillion things to blog about, but I want my blog posts to be about one thing (each) so then when I sit down to type I get an idea logjam.

So, you know. What do you want to hear about? My job? My first international knitting field trip, that ended with me eating Chinese food on a sidewalk and falling into a hole? Ignatz’s new hobby? Parent-school (gag me)?” My recent whirlwind trip to Paris, or the upcoming, even whirlwindier trip to London? This problem is compounded by the fact that almost everyone who reads this is a Facebook friend, so you probably already heard most of these stories via status update, and I don’t want to bore people. Continue reading