listening after dark

Anti-peeve

I discovered yet another talent: eating an ice cream bar while riding my bike. I've had the no-hands thing down for many years now, but I don't know that I ever tried to eat ice cream while biking. Or, no, wait, I think last summer I ate a popsicle on my way to work once. So never mind.

Peeve

Ooooh, I hate when I open a web page that resizes my browser. I have it a certain size and shape for a reason—because I like it that way.

Snow, rain, flowers, sporks

Weather and work and hordes of children make me tired. In a good way, I think.

I found a couple of amusing links recently:

• Your Birth Tune: See here and here. My birthday song was "Billie Jean." I love that one; in fact, it's my favorite Michael Jackson hit.

• TorsoPants are, for lack of a more original descriptor, random. They reference things like midgets, sporks, beet farmers and knickers. See? Random. (I need this shirt.)

Also, I've been researching vehicles this week. I think I mentioned that my dear Elmer is ailing. I have some time, but I'm trying to come up with options. (Other than a new engine, which I still might consider. Maybe.) If I get something newer, I'm really liking the cheaper hatchbacks everyone is making. Especially the Honda Fit, Nissan Versa, Toyota Yaris/Matrix/Echo. Any advice, thoughts or other considerations would be welcome. (I love my Subaru but would like something more fuel efficient without giving up that nice station-wagony cargo area.)

Cake face

I keep swiping at my chin, thinking I still have cake batter there. That's what I get for so voraciously licking the spatula.

Among the essentials in my kitchen are all the items needed to make a cake, should I feel the need some Tuesday evening. Flour, sugar, chocolate, eggs, butter, spices. We always made cakes from scratch, so I never got into the whole box thing. (Although box brownies always turn out better than my from-scratch attempts. I haven't figured that out.) My mom always had a stand mixer, so making cake was pretty easy. Well, after spending 10 minutes beating egg whites by hand (let me tell you, it helps to be listening to upbeat music and hopping around at the same time), I say, Who needs a mixer?

Last week during my house arrest/flu/dog sitting, I watched a lot of Food Network. One of my favorite episodes was the spiky-haired guy driving to different diners all over New Jersey (huh, I should have done that). One of the diners was a tiny, crowded place with no microwave, freezer or mixer. They made the waffle batter by hand in huge tubs. That's impressive. Almost as impressive as me doing squats while maniacally whisking egg whites.

Seriously. I think people rely too much on shortcuts, prepared items, fast foods. I do, too. But tonight I made up a sort of sweet/sour/spicy chicken/pineapple/broccoli stir-fry thing, over jasmine and brown rice and bulgar (cooked all together—why not?). My dinners usually turn out best if I don't measure or use a recipe. But cake still needs a recipe.

Brrring. That's my cake. Now for the frosting: my patented no-measure mixture of semisweet chocolate chips, cinnamon, vanilla, butter, milk, powdered sugar and sometimes red chile. ... Actually, this time it's a strawberry-accented chocolate with almond extract and a dash of allspice. Hey, why not?

Is anyone else sick of these words?

Primary
Democrat
Republican
Caucus
Vote
Candidate
Election
Delegate

While all this primary business is fascinating, and I appreciate that there have been several viable candidates in the running for a good length of time, does anyone realize it's only March? Barely March. We have so many months to go.

Yet, Wyoming is getting a little action too. And the rest of the country thinks we don't matter. What, Wyoming? Where is that, anyway? Hah. So there.

Not much to report

Well, let's see.

It snowed again. A few times.

I spent a long weekend dog/house sitting, during which I finished my mom's sweater vest (photos to come), watched mindless TV, shoveled some snow drifts and caught the Great Dane puppy chewing on my left shoe.

I already got my tax refund. February is nearly over. Which means it's only a month until my (quarter-century) birthday. I'm counting the days until my June vacation to Montreal. And the days until G.W.B. is no longer in charge. Still 300-some.

I decided to sew some curtains yesterday. The kitchen ones are done (and they look nice). Next up: stripeys for the bedroom windows.

My mom sent me a sweater that I actually really like. We've never previously agreed on clothing.

Possibly I am sleeping too much. Or too little. It's hard to tell. Is 10 hours too much?

Is it spring yet?

Spokane, February 2005.

Sometimes sleep solves everything

Especially 11 hours of sleep. I ducked out of work an hour early yesterday, taking a little sick leave because I felt generally crummy but not specifically sick. I've been almost not quite sick for a couple of weeks now. Really, I think sometimes sleep fixes it all.

Well, I filed my taxes last Friday, and the news is good. Even if those extra rebates don't come through, I'm happy. I'm feeling rather cynical about our legislative processes these days. I hate to talk about politics, and yet the election madness has me thinking and talking about it way more than usual. I'm so over it already.

This winter has been long, cold and windy. My gauge for excitement has been reduced to this: It's laundry night. That means clean socks that aren't the faded, thin ones I only wear as a last resort. Also, I went on the interstate today for the first time in four months. I haven't been more than 5 miles from Casper since mid-October. Really. And, strangely, I'm not stir crazy yet.

I'm getting a new door tomorrow. (Yes, Mom, no more worrying.) With a deadbolt and everything. Maybe that will keep me from locking myself out. Three times in as many months was enough for me. Shimmying through the kitchen window was fun, but I can live without that kind of excitement.

Oh, and my landlord installed a new(er) stove last weekend. I was strangely mournful over the old stove; I loved its push-button burner controls, the cracked clock face that didn't work, the thick metal that never got too hot to touch, even if the oven was turned up to 500 degrees. Poor stove sitting in the alley (now with a skim of snow), I'll miss you.

Make your own album cover. Sort of.

I tried, I really did. I just don't have any good fonts. There, that's my excuse.

This little time-waster combines several of my favorite things: fictional band names, photos, elements of surprise, bizarre results. (Thanks to Adam for the link.)

I'm really good, however, at coming up with cool band names:
Hot Sock
Secondhand Cheese
The Land of Zoom
Rabid Badgers

OK, so that last one wasn't mine. Some of the others were combined efforts also. Still, all good names.

Happy New Year!

Snow, sushi, sake, cross-country skiing, sleeping in...it was a good holiday.

Tai chi ice walking

Once upon a time, my family took a tai chi chuan class in Spokane during a particularly icy winter.

The teacher was old and wise, and one of the very first things we learned was how to stand and begin our lessons. We would all stand facing the mirrors, with our feet planted firmly and our knees slightly bent, leaning back into our hips for stability.

He told us that this stance was particularly good for walking on ice, since it gives the feet a chance to test each step before committing to it. Of course, we had to try it out, walking back to the car on ice-sheet sidewalks. And what do you know, it worked.

To this day, I rely on the tai chi ice walking method whenever the situation permits. In fact, this very evening I walked home from work over some dangerously icy terrain, with nary a slip or trip.

Don't believe me? Try it yourself. It may not save your life, but it might just save your ass. You might look a little silly doing the squat-walk, but not as silly as you'd look sprawled out on the sidewalk. Seriously, your butt will thank me.