Please forgive Snarky for pointing you in the direction of this article (links to Salon dot com, you'll probably have to click through a day pass to get there).
But. Marble bag?! She had never heard it called that before. Now, "banana hammock" (which really is fun to say out loud) for sure, but "Marble Bag"?
Thus concludes this little bit of summertime fun.
The first year Snarky learned to knit (the third time, when it stuck) she committed a common knewbie act of ginormous hubris: she decided to knit all of the Darkity's gifts to their family.
It wasn't as bad as it could have been - Snarky only knit for the "-in-law" side of the family, but she had an ambitious - and schizophrenic - to do list:
* a pair of convertible fingerless gloves (that turned into mittens)
* a Peruvian style fair isle hat (with the ear flaps and braided cords)
* a cardigan (Sitcom Chic from Bonne Marie, if you were curious)
* a therapy roll filled with flax seeds, chamomile, lavendar, etc.
* a felted bucket hat
* scarves
* beaded eyeglass chain (OK, that one wasn't knitted, but it was crafty!)
* cute little tags to amp up the DIY feel of all the gifts
By the time the Day of Giving and Oohing and Aahing finally arrived, Snarky was too delirious from sleep deprivation due to too many nights spent way past her bedtime squinting over poorly lit last minute knitting to really enjoy the season. There are pictures, at least.
But before Snarky could say "never again!" she decided the next year to make felted stockings for every single one of her Aunts and Uncles (and Grandma M) on her mother's side of the family. Because Snarky is some kind of craft martyr. That must be the reason.
Last year the crafting was focused with laser-like intensity on DarkityMa. She received one shawl, a cabled chemo cap, and a fuzzy rasta hat (chemo cap that got too big). She also still has a shawl marinating in the back of the hall closet, but she doesn't know about that one because Snarky is not able to look at it without having knitting-in-the-rain running-after-the-runaway-skein flashbacks.
This year, Snarky thinks she's dialing it back, but maybe she's too far into it to have perspective. She's working on a commissioned Where's Waldo hat, she has two pairs of Fuzzy Feet felted clogs to make for the Darkity'rents, she needs to continue her enviro/animal friendly/yet-still-soft yarn research for a hat for DarkityBro, and there's the matter of a long-delayed sculptural snake scarf that The Mister really, really wants (so far she's using Panache from KnitPicks - cashmere and alpaca and merino, oh my! - and Meunch's Touch Me, which is about the most sinful shiny chenillesque yarn EVAH) (Sometimes Snarky wonders if The Mister is very secretly some sort of drag queen.).
She is designing little logos to silk screen (using the freezer paper method) onto t-shirts for the troubled DeathRockFamily. If this experiment works, she will be making more t-shirts for just about everyone because how cool is that?
And finally tonight she and The Mister are going to some sort of Nerd Mecca to find geekish gifts for her geekish compatriots. There's nothing crafty about this last bit, Snarky's just excited about being able to get her geek on tonight.
Speaking of which: new Doctor Who and BSG tonight!
And now Snarky is officially sidetracked.
The point was: seasonal craftiness is absolutely fine. But much like holiday eatings, holiday craft-making must be done in moderation and with a sense of pacing... or else tragedy will ensue.
Snarky hopes everyone had a fabulous Turkey Day (she had pot roast instead after meeting up with the just-as-lovely-kind-and-generous-in-person Cordia and her Mister and Award Winning Cake). She is still trying to come to grips with the fact that Christmas is three weeks away!
Snarky owns several statementy T-shirts that she used to employ to keep her sense of self at the gym. One had a giant, glaring Big Brother (from "1984"), another declared "RACIAL STEREOTYPES DEHUMANIZE" (a gift from her activist brother), and yet another one implored the reader to "Visualize Whirled Peas".
Which really has nothing to do with this post, except that Snarky finally managed to download some photos and was thinking along the lines of helping y'all to visualize her life out here in the Pacific Northwest.
More to come, eventually.
First, some more house pics!
A bad photo of our finished floor upstairs. Also an inkling of our whacky PeeWee color choices.
The cats spend most of their day up in the hutch.
Meant to give you an idea of the amazing candy-apple-green of the living room. Also our slovenly ways.
And love for Kubrick.
... and some travel pics...
One of our recent bike excursions on the Spring Water Corridor Trail. The red speck is The Mister.
A mural by the Devil's Punchbowl on the coast. The poppies are real.
Closeup of the strange sand formations on Hobbit Beach.
This is why the Snarks love the coast.
The Snarky's on the coast! The Mister has sworn to learn how to use the camera. Someday you might actually see more than just Reflected!Snarky.
OK... that's it for now. Coming soon: more coastal pics, the IKEA run, and 'maters!
Kustom Krafts!
(Snarky feels a little weird calling DarkityBro a "man", but as he just turned 28, she supposes it applies.)
That's pretty much how he talks too.
Snarky's feeling very torn today.
The house inspection was mostly good, with a few somewhat glaring Need-to-Fix-Before-Moving-In issues (leaky faucets, bad wiring).
She and The Mister have been left to marinate in the juices of an extremely thorough inspection report and whatever else that $1000 got them until Thursday evening, when they will meet with their agent to discuss any addendums to their offer.
Since another offer for $20,000 more is waiting in the wings, odds are the sellers will simply back out of the deal and move on to the next fish. Snarky is working hard to be OK with this, even though she's spent the last week mentally placing furniture and having Special Moments in every nook and cranny of this house.
She took over seventy pictures of the place during the inspection, for goodness sakes.
On the upside, her boobies have been deemed perfectly healthy (if maybe just a wee bit lopsided) and she is fairly confident that her lovely "modesty mole"'s (by which she used to determine the level of raciness of various necklines) biopsy will also come back clean.
Snarky was going to extoll the benefits of an anxiety based weight loss plan... but she just succumbed to the siren call of chocolate chip cookies, so apparently that point is not only moot, but revoked.
(Either Snarky just lifted the entire title of a book she once read in elementary school... or a surreal p0rno.)
The promised finished heart t-shirt pics, plus bonus t-shirts because this did turn out to be a very addictive hobby:
Unfortunately, Snarky cannot walk and chew gum (AKA craft and make clear documentation), but here's the finished heart!
Detail of the heart. Snarky went back in after taking this picture to clean up the semi-painted spots.
Niece #1 requested a drawing of a "pink unicorn with a white horn standing on green grass". So Snarky bent the rules a bit.
Mane detail.
The grass ended up overpowering the unicorn a bit, but Snarky figures a five-and-a-half year old won't mind. (Hopefully!)
The Mister's one request for Christmas: a shirt that he could wear with (stinky) pride.
Snarky also enjoyed "open studio" last night at work and will have more crafty pictures to post after she gets back from her trip Back East.
The Mister seems to be in a much better place mentally, even though his job situation is even more complicated, though possibly in a good way: he's been tentatively offered some continued part-time work that he might be able to do from home for his current employer, and he just got the results from an online personality test that prompted a company to immediately contact him for an interview. This might end up becoming the major fork in the road for this part of his life that defines how the next several years roll out.
Snarky hopes all of you are enjoying good food and great company. The passing of the Winter Solstice feels like the turning of a very important page for her. She's hoping for the same sense of forward momentum for everyone else who is currently Doing the Unstuck.
Exciting, yes, but also New!
The Snarks are heading out to sea for the next week. Snarky hopes to catch y'all on the filp side. Her first week of new work was all sorts of exciting/boring/exciting again. She is really happy about her career change.
Glub glub!
Snarky has lost her freaking mind.
Case and Point
This is the flooring she wants for her bathroom. The Mister wanted something more neutral, but this just spoke to her.
Maybe it's because the colorway is called "Asian Tiger". Snarky is just a complete sucker for names of colors that say nothing about the color. (Then again, The Mister's choice was something like "Picasso Splash" or somesuch.)
Send help. Preferrably in the form of beigy, calming tones.
Snarky knows y'all must be getting tired of her waxing all faux-philosophical and all and why can't she just get back to posting pics of the house, dag nabbit? Well, she does have a few pics, but of course she doesn't have them ready for you yet.
On a lark she just looked up a former classmate from her architorture school days and has found out that she is now the happy mother of two wonderful kids. Snarky shouldn't be surprised, as she was one of the bridesmaids at this friend's wedding which took place as soon as they possibly could manage it immediately following graduation.
The W's were an exclusive couple very early into the whole collegiate experience (from Snarky's held-over High School Sweetheart phase, through the embarrassing experimental Rugby moment, all the way to meeting The Mister online). It was almost a given that they were going to be married. They just complemented eachother so thoroughly and well.
Still Snarky can't help but feel a bit of shock. Someone who has been frozen in her mind for the last eight years just got suddenly ultra-fast forwarded to being a Mommy twice over.
The same happened a couple years ago when she got in touch with an old high school roommate who had also gone and had two kids. The shock was a bit lessened by the fact that Snarky knew about Child #1 (though #2 was a complete surprise as they had lost touch by then).
The Snarks are still very much on the fence about this whole child-having thing anyway, but somehow Snarky is feeling like she missed the boat somehow - that she's in a moment of suspended animation just spinning her wheels, not really doing anything.
If she decided not to have children, then surely she must be on some upwardly mobile corporate ladder or carving a bold new niche for some previously undiscovered marketable need. Right? Only... no. Snarky hasn't done that either. Snarky really hasn't done much at all on either the family or career fronts.
Is Snarky a Slacker? If not children and not career... then what will be her legacy?
(According to this week's issue of the local freebie paper, Portland is a city of slackers. Perhaps this is why Snarky feels so attuned to the place.)
In the past, the Snarks' luck with garden has been rather spotty. One year all they grew was a ginormous basil patch (about 36 Genovese basil plants purchased from a guy who called himself the Basil King (though he isn't this Basil King - see August 14th entry which kinda distracted me from this post for about half an hour. Why do we no longer have the Black Mountain College?!)) and made pesto all summer long and had enough left over to freeze and enjoy all through winter.
So they are quite pleasantly stunned to find that the mere seven basil plants, five tomato plants (gold nugget, an heirloom plant called "Dancing Bonnie", Early Girl, roma, and cherry tomatoes), and one each of eggplant (Japanese "Black Beauty"), cucumber (some sort of slicin' cuke) and zucchini are not only not dying, but bearing some fruit!
Wee ickle first harvest!
A recent photo of the garden, taken in the early evening.
Due to the dry (whoda thunk it?) weather, we've had to water the garden. Here's the tomato/basil/eggplant patch.
So far we've gotten two zucchini plants out of this monter. One was regular sized, and the other one we didn't get to until after returning from NC. Behold zuke-zilla!...
We've used about 2% of this thing so far.
The Snarks did end up having a good time with the Darkity'rents. Snarky starts her new job tomorrow (!!!) and the immediately after her first five days on the new job, they are flying out to TX to join up with the DarkityFam (including DarkityBro) to go on a five day cruise. (more !!!'s) At some point the Snarks will need a vacation to just sit at home and do absolutely nothing with nobody.
Today the Snarks hit four different Goodwill stores in the area for state plates and other curiosities. She has so much to show y'all (including the cow head they got for the living room!) (Don't worry, no real living bovines were harmed in the making of this particular piece of kitsch.) (Oh, and the Donut Barn! But... that's for another post.)
Until then, she will leave you this. Proof that Snarky comes from a cute short peoples.
Darkity'Rents at Multnomah Falls. Check out DarkityMa's new curly hair!
(Translation: busy work. Snarky has no idea why she suddenly went German.)
(Huzzah! for making it back onto page one, by the way.)
Snarky had the realization at the end of last week that she had turned into an internet taker, rather than a giver. She was reading blogs and posts and doing the general surfing about she could squeeze into her new schedule, but she wasn't making any contributions. Selfish Snarky!
Needless to say, the thing that is worse than de-Garboing oneself is regaining any sense of flow and light-footedness in one's prose.
Referring to oneself in the third person definitely sandbags that whole "light-footed" effort. Still! Snarky shoulders on.
Work is fantastic. Well. Today it isn't. But that's not too horribly bad considering Snarky has been here for sixty days (she should know, her 60 day review is this Friday). Today has been diminished in fantasticness simply because Snarky is a problem solver and her problem was not. Getting. Solved already! Her addiction is more to the sense of accomplishment rather than the journey, and this particular journey was starting to feel like an endless turn on a traffic circle rather than the euphoric A to B that usually measures her day.
"Big Ben!"
"Parliament!"
"Big Ben!"
... you get the picture.
On top of the slightly stuck feeling Snarky is having today, she's also slightly sick. The atmospheric controls for her office don't, so she and her co-workers have been running between the extremes. Some days they keep their jackets on and wrap scarves around their faces. On these days Snarky looks like a technicolor urchin with her turqoise and rainbow arm warmers and slightly haunted expression. Other days the office becomes a sort of greenhouse/sauna. Heavy, humid air hot enough to warrant short-sleeved t-shirts (yesterday one of the supervisors was wearing what amounted to a nice tank top. In November!). All this wishy-washy weather (interior and exterior) has caused the quick dissemination of Seasonal Crud that runs the gamut from tickling cough to full on phlegm attacks.
Snarky has yet to succumb, but today she feels the closest to "unwell" that she has felt since starting work here.
Ah, but the fantastic stuff! It truly is fantastic. Snarky is surrounded by passionate, funny, educated people. The industry is very different from The Cracker Factory. Snarky gets to work with manufacturing types and artistic types and IT types and sales/marketing types. She gets to type really, really fast, and is apparently the heir apparent to the new CRM system they are trying to implement. What does CRM stand for? Hold on... Snarky needs to look it up.
Customer Relationship Management
Of course! Anyways.. what Snarky knows of the CRM is that she is trying to merge four different databases into the one thing... and also train herself up on the new system in order to train everyone else up on the new system... and also customizing and reporting and data crunching and... um... yeah. Just a little bit of everything. If Snarky was the Office Monkey before, she's more like the Office Gorilla now.
Along with all the newness of being in a different work environment working in a completely different industry, Snarky has the added bonus of tests! Product Recognition Tests, that is. She finally managed to pass Test One (correctly identifying 82 samples) after two tries. Next up: Test Two, which requires the mere memorization of about sixty-some-odd pieces. No big whoop. Test Three (and this is the final test) Snarky hopes is under re-configuration... as most of the test is over soon-to-be-discontinued product. Snarky realized, after failing her first go at Test One, that the last written test she had taken prior was for her driver's license. This definitely felt like a return to the days when one's value hinged on the passing of a test (though to be fair, Snarky would not have been fired had she failed the test again... she would have just been stuck in test limbo, having to re-take the test every two weeks until she got it right).
Beside the failing her first test ever part of this experience, Snarky is really enjoying this whole "learn the product" process. She is starting to feel a bit nervous about her performance review on Friday because it has been so long since she geniunely cared about her job that she just might cock it up. (Snarky has been dying to use that term all week. Sorry if it abruptly offended/shocked anyone. Snarky seems to be good about cocking up the flow of things today. Hee!) (From where did that term come anyway? Is it gun related? Or just more blatantly phallic?)
Snarky hopes things go well and that she can remain the resident office monkey gorilla. Bananas are good.
Last week's surprise winter weather has given way to premature spring-like conditions.
And like a tender crocus bud, Snarky finds her own femininity peeking out from all the protective layers of winter accumulation. Last night she trimmed back the talons and attended to her toes. Tonight she hopes to complete the rest of her home mani/pedi progression (Snarky is slow and less flexible than she once was. It takes at least two days to finish these simple tasks.) and this weekend might be the Wacky Waxing Weekend if she can get her gumption up.
This seems to be the prevailing mood on Blog Island. A mood of rejuvenation and re-introduction to one's inner girlie-girl. Snarky has lost track of what this particular movement happens to be... is it post-post-modern feminism, or meta-feminism, or retro-something-or-other?
Ah well. Whatever it is, it makes typing on the keyboard much easier.
Edited to add: while ChezSnark is still slightly under the pall of the Monster Cold of Ought Six Slash Seven, Snarky has finally started to wear her BPAL again. Banner day!
Unfortunately, the Snarks did not keep a food journal during their five days on the boat. Perhaps it is better that way, as Snarky will not be tempted to calculate the calories consumed (and therefore realize that she will need to climb the equivalent of three Mount Hoods in order to bring her Calories In/Calories Out equation back to equilibrium).
She can recall a few memorable standouts: foie gras souffle (served with fig preserves and a slice of candied citrus rind); deliciously spicy gazpacho that had more than a passing resemblance to a very good, chilled Bloody Mary; so many dishes that should have been served en flambe but weren't, but were still good nevertheless; schooling DarkityBro on the concept of a Baked Alaska (he was deeply shocked that he had not heard of such a thing in all his twenty seven years - this is surely the sign of a die-hard foodie); ordering the Chateaubriand and then annoying The Mister for the rest of the evening by slathering on a heavy, horribly fake French accent; and vienerschnitzel (Which, yes, was made out of veal. Snarky had a long conversation with DarkityBro about foie gras (a recently very hot topic in Chicago, where he lives) and veal. DB has come from a much more radical animal rights POV than the emotional topics of baby animals and force-fed ducks and geese, but organizations like PETA's overzealousness has caused him over the years to consider all sides of the many issues in this debate.)
Oh.. kay. Snarky didn't mean to veer off like that. She'll just wrap up this tangent by saying spending some time with her brother and recently reading Heat by Bill Buford has really caused Snarky to think about just where her food comes from... and how she goes about consuming it.
Having said all that, on to the food pics!
The Orchestrated Big Food Event was the Midnight Buffet. It is such a big deal that they open it up half an hour early just so people can shuffle past and take pictures. Snarky did not stay up to partake (she had, afterall, just stuffed herself on a four course dinner only a few hours before) but DarkityMa reportedly threw down, later swearing that she would never eat that much ever again.
Snarky apologizes for the poor quality of the Midnight Buffet pictures. She could have used a flash, but didn't want to blind the people on the other side of the table...
... such courtesy was not extended to the ship's staff, however, during the Galley Tour. Oh no, Snarky didn't mind at all shoving a camera practically up this poor guy's nose as he tried to carve up a similar melon for the next Midnight Buffet.
DarkityBro, Snarky, and The Mister went to a little wine tasting seminar during the first Day at Sea. This was definitely more for fun (no spit buckets!) but was also educational. DarkityBro gave the Snarks all of his little pieces of cheese that were to accompany the selections. Bonus! (The Snarks still resolutely drink wine out of a box, but can now at least understand what the labels mean on those pretty pretty bottles... sort of.)
The Mister's last dessert. Some sort of (non-animal cruelty) souffle. The woman hiding in the background was the eldest of the group of three women that were seated at the DarkityFam's table for all of our dinners. It was a daughter treating her mother and grandmother to a cruise (the first night was the grandmother's birthday -- we all got cake!) Grandmother is from Peru and speaks little to no English (and reminds Snarky of her own maternal grandmother), mother speaks Peruvian, Spanish, and English (with a heavy accent), and the daughter speaks unaccented English and translated for her mother and grandmother when needed. They were excellent company.
Snarky's last dessert. Why do chefs insist on stacking food? This looked like a crime scene when Snarky was done with it.
After the cruise, the DarkityFam stopped off at a Buddhist/vegetarian restaurant and had plates and plates (and plates) of analogous foods (Peking "Duck", "seafood" stew, roasted "pork", etc.). And since all those eleventeen dishes didn't fill up their newly stretched stomachs (Snarky wonders if her own liver will be ripe for harvesting soon) they also went to the best boba tea place in Houston. At least, according to that one chick they asked. It was pretty good!
Snarky has more to post, but when the Snarks got back to Portland, they discovered another monster zucchini in the garden, so she need to go make about three loaves of chocolate zucchini bread right now.
Eat your heart out, Bellagio!
So the ancient running joke is that Snarky is in possession of two very black thumbs.
The Mister made a habit of gifting her with a potted orchid (of the Lowe's/Home Depot variety) every Valentine's Day, knowing that she would eventually find a way to kill it. One year he gave her a companion cactus thinking that it would outlive the orchid which seemed extremely logical at the time.
Snarky deflated it.
Back in May, some good friends of the Snarks came out to visit. The wife is a master gardener and the husband is the handiest of handymen. They both have done amazing things to their triple wide trailer (and 5 acres of property) nestled in the Appalachians.
The Snarks were able to give them a tour of their soon-to-be house for hints/tips/praise/approval. She did a careful evaluation of the landscaping (somewhat over-exotic for the Snark's taste, but really quite impressive) and even gifted them with a regional resource (which has since been packed and lost, but will be found again, by gum!).
If it weren't for their words of encouragement, Snarky might've considered a scorched earth approach to the existing landscaping. So... they're trying. Most of the bordering landscaping has been weeded (Snarky suspects she "accidentally" took out some "decorative" thistle, but it was annoying and leggy) except for the corner with the roses... which are choking and trying their darndest to continue despite her efforts to destroy them.
She harvested a fistful of lavendar blossoms which are being artfully displayed in one of their many "why did we register for all these?" vases.
They've got a miniature garden (mostly for sammich makin's - tomato and cuke) fighting it out with the clover.
They are doing their best not to destroy what was left to them. Besides the curly willow, which had to go. (Much to the shock of the neighborhood.)
Cross your spades and pointy weeder thingies (Snarky likes to call it "The Probe") for them... pictures of the carnage results soon!
This has been a year of body horror. Turning thirty, while not nearly as traumatic on the very day back in January as expected, has become a bit of a milestone despite her best efforts to avoid cliche.
Thirty was when she had her first (and hopefully last) root canal.
Thirty was when she had her first (again, she hopes last, but fears this is really the first of many) cancer scare.
Thirty was when she not only looked at her own changing body, but also The Mister's with a bit of shock, a bit of revulsion. Just a bit.
Her uneasy truce with her skin shattered. She now feels like a dying tree trapped in the tightening grip of some parasitic growth that has managed to encase her in its foreigness, its utter otherness.
She's caved in in a mountain of puss, bile, shit, saliva, and tears. It moves and shifts at the whims of Nature and she must move along with it to avoid suffocating.
A puppet mistress tangled up in her own skeins of control.
She's glad she only has to see the dentist twice a year if a routine cleaning unearths these kinds of thoughts every time!
Valentina recently asked about favorite romantic movies and Snarky, as is her MO, twisted it all back to the tummy. She suspects this close association between heart and hunger is genetic as her entire family has spent a combined gazillion hours of their most memorable moments either consuming, making, or planning meals.
As per her comment on Valentina's blog, Snarky's all time favorite "it's all about the food" movie is "Tampopo". This is a classic of not only modern Japanese cinema, but of all foodie cinema the world over. It is a collection of short stories concerning various people and their obsessions with food. There's a main story involving a John Wayne-esque ramen-loving trucker (I kid you not) and a struggling noodle shop widow. This was the first movie that opened my eyes to food as love-play (and no, I hadn't seen "9 1/2 Weeks" yet) and sparked my life-long romance with teh ramen noodles .
This just says everything Snarky wants to say about how important food is in her life.
Other movies that come to mind are "Like Water for Chocolate" (Snarky still wants to make some of the recipes in the book), "Babette's Feast", "Big Night", and "Eat Drink Man Woman". She does not count that one with Penelope Cruz ("Woman on Top"?), because it was just. Not. Good. Bleah. So much wasted potential. Maybe it was because the "rival suitor" was the same actor from that meh sitcom "Good Morning Miami", also he played the optomotrist Miranda faked orgasms with on "Sex in the City".
What are your favorite foodie movies?
Today, thanks to Valentina, Snarky smells of Al-Shairan.
The Snarks are homeowners!
Snarky = ecstatic, The Mister = Already Thinking...
To commemorate this life-changing event, Snarky is tweaking her blog a bit to include documentation of the ongoing process of turning This Old House into their Home.
Snarky is still planning to keep with the third person format. She will most likely still throw in random fits of writerly aspiration. But the focus has shifted enough to warrant a re-chistening of this blog.
The Snarks are really, truly happy to have gotten through this first major hurdle toward housedom. Unfortunately, their new status started out with a Snakes on a Plane shakedown in the form of a break-in to their new house.
Apparently some bored, only mildly motivated hoodlums noticed the "SOLD" sign in front of the house and the fact that the previous owners had recently vacated. They took advantage of the occupancy lull and crowbarred their way into the empty house. After unsuccessfully attempting to wrench the sink disposal out of the kitchen, it appears they left empty handed. They even left the crowbar behind.
The Snarks are feeling a bit shaken by this. They've had car break ins in the past, but their home? Never. After talking with the neighbors, they feel a bit better. They're a (usually) watchful, mindful bunch.
Besides the obvious changes to the game plan (having the sellers purchase a new side door, installing anti-theft systems) they are now thinking that a Whole Hog style move in (rather than a piece-meal, dribs and drabs approach) would make them feel more secure about their few possessions.
What a way to get started! Nevertheless, The Snarks are determined to make crudites out of cruddy human nature and plan to gather fluff and twigs so that they can fuss and fidget until their nest feels Just Right.
The tenative plan for this weekend is to possibly purchase a nearly-new commercial grade elliptical machine for their gym/entertainment area in the basement. Though this fine piece of machinery is an amazing find on the Craigslist Portland site, it still is pricey enough to cause Snarky to reconsider her gym membership. If they can also find a decent set of free weights for cheap, she will hang up her wee courtesy towel for good and Sweat to the Oldies (or the Emos, or whatever else The Mister has going) at Home.
Snarky is also thinking about taking on the somewhat daunting task of refinishing the hardwood floor in the upstairs master bedroom suite. This might be as little as scruffing up the finish with steel wool and adding two coats of poly... or as much as renting a belt sander, floor buffer, and edger and spending two days stripping, scruffing, and recoating.
Either way, she thinks it will greatly improve the feel of the room and it will also be much less than the bamboo overhaul The Mister has been craving.
And with that bit of good/bad/good, this sleepy new homeowner is going to collapse into bed.
Snarky has been back for a week now, but she can't seem to get the floaty boat feeling out of her head. Add to that the continued "hit-the-ground-runningness" of her new job (which she is really starting to enjoy despite its ability to snatch the hours and days right from underneath her like a neat card room trick) and she just can't seem to find the time to re-establish her online persona.
She's also been feeling a bit Garbo lately too.
Still, she's going to make an effort to get back in to the swing of things.
And where words might be slow in trickling back into the well for her, Snarky always has more pictures!
First day out to sea.
The Hitler Bangs are Dead. Long live the Bangs of Indeterminate Length and/or Direction!
DarkityBro soaking up the sun (and being spied upon by his older sister).
The DarkityRents are also cute whilst evading the pesky paparazzi.
Many moons ago Snarky spent a semester studying ancient Mayan architecture. The Chichen Itza ruins include the main temple (El Castillo) which does a neat trick every Equinox. The Snarks where there a day early. Damn you Murphy, and your stupid Law! It was still an impressive site (and sight), even if the government no longer allows tourists to scramble at their own peril up the steep temple stairs.
Mostly besides the sights and sounds, there was The Food. Oh sweet honey in the rock, was there Food. Snarky will need to make a whole separate post just to discuss the heirarchy and humongousness of The Food.
But for now... she's slinking back into her cave to play with some sticks and string. It up and got all Autumnal before she even realized it. Perfect knitting weather!
First the semi-tragic ordeal of the Kim family, and now the climbers on Mt. Hood.
This has not been a good season for hope.
Snarky finally hit her bummed out wall yesterday early afternoon. She and The Mister had been fairly functioning up until then, completing last minute holiday preparations for their trip Back East, s-l-o-w-l-y cleaning up ChezSnark for the impending white glove inspection from DarkityMa, generally acting as if life was going on without a hitch.
Then yesterday afternoon Snarky fell hard into a funk and didn't really recover until late in the evening. She just could no longer pretend that Everything Was OK.
She's fine now, but this morning The Mister, as he prepared for work, came into the bedroom (in which Snarky was determinedly NOT preparing to work out before work, but rather trying to discover just how much of her could be covered up before suffocation would become an issue) and started to hyperventilate and repeat over and over "I can't go in, I just can't go in, I can't go in there, I just can't go in....".
She took some time off of work to make him some pancakes and get him in bed and talk to him. Assure him that it would be OK eventually, that they were on their way to finding a better path.
And Snarky does believe this, firmly and with a steely resolve she doesn't normally feel for anything in her life (except for the Big Stuff). But she just wishes she could make The Mister believe it as thoroughly as she does right now too.
In the meantime, she continues to do little things for him. Tell him how proud she is of him, all the things she hopes will help him to regain some of what he was before all this stress wore him down.
There are so-called "young souls" and "old souls" and all the souls in between. Snarky has often surmised that she possesses a "middle aged soul" - old enough to know better (she entered her teenaged years with a deep breath and a "well, here goes nuthin'") but still young enough to make all the same stupid mistakes (oh, it went alright).
Her best friend has a teenaged soul. She is impulsive, headstrong, and unable to take the right path until she has exhausted all the wrong ones. Snarky used to refer to her as her "Drama Friend" (we all have at least one of those, even if we are typically the DF in our relationships), often with a bit of condescending affection/scorn (weird how some friendships are so close to antagonistic symbiosis).
Last night Snarky was on the phone with her friend for over two hours - most of it was spent with DF venting and unloading and Snarky listening.
Two years ago such a conversation would leave Snarky exhausted and resentful. It would make The Mister grouchy for stolen time. And worst of all: nothing would have changed for her friend.
But today, Snarky feels fine. Rested, even. It's not that Snarky has disconnected herself from her friend and doesn't care about what she is going through (in short, two words: "emotional incest" Snarky always learns new terms/concepts from her acquaintances that open her eyes and make her extremely grateful for her own dull and boring existance that does not require the aid of therapy speak in order to be defined) it is that Snarky finally had an a-HA moment a few crises ago and realized that in order to be a good friend, she didn't have to live through the experience with those friends. She could just listen and observe and support.
Small epiphany as far as epiphanies go (surely "brightly colored mushrooms are bad for the eatings" ranks higher) but an important one for Snarky, who used to be an empathetic walking open wound for everyone.
And The Mister was really quite OK with not having a wife for two hours. The Snarks are cultivating an appreciation for the concept of "alone time" and have experienced the added bonus of more enriched "together time" for it.
Best of all, Snarky's best friend has really broken through to some new, exciting territory. Of course right now it's scary and overwhelming, but she's calmer now and is finally, finally able to really work toward something better.
So, Snarky feels compelled to give a small for emotional maturity both for herself and for her friend. Snarky always knew she would finally begin to feel more comfortable in her skin (on the personal, bodily level as well as the larger socio-political sphere) in her thirties and is relieved to see that bit of middle-aged soul prognostication come true.
But she will try very hard not to pull a muscle patting herself on the back about it.
Darkity never really got in to music. Even as a fledgling hedonist, she has managed to neglect that one of her five or six senses, hearing.
She listened to talk radio when her contemporaries were tuning in to the 80's oblivious bubblegum pop and/or nihilistic (yet also oddly poppy) electronic underbelly. She did manage to catch a bit of that hair metal infection like everybody else, though.
Then she met The Mister, who as an opening salvo to their courtship, compiled six mixed tapes to express his past, present, and possible future. He has been instrumental (har-dee-har-har) in opening up her ears to the world of sound.
Still, even with his admittedly diverse tastes, she finds herself floating passively along in the wake of whatever catches his interest and can't help but feel... a bit lost and sort of back where she started, musically.
Tonight the Snarks are going to see Thomas Dolby perform. Besides his one song she can think of ("Sah-sah-SCIENCE!") she couldn't remember anything else by him. After The Mister's hilarious recreation of "Europa" she's still stumped. They have one album (probably a best of) that she will cram with before heading out tonight.
Later in the month they will also see Sigur Ros (whom they have seen before, to great effect) and The Editors. Darkity suspects that the audiences will get progressively younger at each concert.
The Snarks are now in a city known for its diverse and rather indy music scene. The pace of trends here (in fashion/lifestyle/food as well as music) is breakneck, yet oddly retro. Darkity wonders if she'll ever get the hang of this.
Well, Snarky isn't sick. YET. But The Mister is. Woefully so: fever, sinus pressure, just the general nastiness + malaise that tends to strike 'round this time of year.
Snarky fixed him up with a round of Nyquil (he was up all night, which means that Snarky was up all night too ) and set some frozen chicken thighs to thaw in the fridge for some Jewish penicillin tonight.
Actually, there is a type of chicken soup DarkityMa used to make when members of the DarkityFam were under the weather. She had a special clay pot with a sort of funnel in the middle - it looked like a bundt cake pan crossed with a clay donut - that she used to steam up the chicken. The pot sat on top of another pot of boiling water, and the funnel directed the steam into the donut and cooked the chicken she had placed in the bottom of the clay pot. The soup formed from the steam and random cooking juices released by the chicken and aromatics.
Snarky suspects that Chinese mothers and Jewish mothers have a lot in common. Her proof is still pretty flimsy, but this still might be something worth investigating futher:
- both provide food, usually in the form of soup, as the panacea of choice (there's the aforementioned chicken soup, plus all manner of sweet soups for sore throats and mucus issues... Snarky disctinctly remembers a sweet soup her mother made with white wood fungus that was supposed to help her blood somehow, and she also recalls a berry/astragalus root tincture/soup she took roughly once a month for her wimmin issues)
- both are violently addicted to mah jong
- both consider Chinese Food a perfectly good holiday meal alternative/standby
- both are highly skilled in guilt-ninjitsu, case in point:
"How many Jewish/Chinese mothers does it take to change a light bulb?"
(heavily sighing) "Oh, don't mind me. I don't want to be a bother. I'll just sit in the dark."
Snarky has to interrupt this regularly scheduled home improvement program to do a little theraputic venting/stream of consciousness whangdoodle:
Givens:
1) Snarky hates moving. HATES it. With a deep, burning, vitriolic passion. She suspects she might be a little OCD about her Stuff being Messed With, even if it is she who is doing the messing.
2) The Mister has been suffering from low-grade depression for as long as Snarky has known him. That would be eight years.
3) The Mister only recently started getting treatment for said depression when it developed into anxiety attacks that affected his work performance and also showed up as heart attack-like symptoms.
4) The Mister had to stop taking his "happy pills" because they gave him a rash.
5) The Mister hates his job. This is probably what pushed his depression into anxiety.
6) The Mister's job is so consuming that he's too busy during the day to do anything "extra-cirricular" and has also had to bring home "homework" that sometimes has him up past midnight (or in one instance, he never came to bed). Therefore, Snarky has been doing all necessary research for the house/move.
7) Snarky really, REALLY hates moving.
8) Snarky wrestles with her own issues of low self-esteem (coupled oddly enough with a raging ego, work that puzzle out) which can create overblown reactions to criticism.
Catalyst:
So today, all those factors came to a head as Snarky tried to secure temporary permits to allow the Snarks to park a fourteen foot moving truck in front of their (essentially, for the purposes of this story) downtown apartment building. It's always the little things that set off the best explosions, no?
This could have just as easily been a week-old stack of unwashed dishes in the kitchen or an odd comment on the appropriateness of a certain pair of pants to a certain type of musical venue. Something trivial and small yet monumental, like dripping water or straws on camels' backs.
Results:
A very terse, very public cellphone conversation in the middle of the engineering department where at points Snarky had to hold the phone away from her ear because The Mister, in his best moods, cannot use an Inside Voice to save his life. As he was at times apoplexic with anger (at Snarky, the world, his employer, again with Snarky, and again with work), fuming with frustration, and exclaming in exasperation, his Outside Voice was just about at Football Stadium Level.
Snarky responded with hushed, angry, trying-to-be-not-"you-statements" speak and had a fun time wrestling her features away from alternating between tears of rage, tears of sadness, tears of fear, and just plain good old fashioned WTF.
Snarky admits she is not blameless in this. She is passive-aggressive, sensitive, and requires much grooming. She's usually pretty much self grooming, but enjoys a fluff every now and again from her paramour. She can be a demanding diva bitch banshee at times, but has been working hard to recognize when those "chocolate and pickles" style impulses present themselves.
This is the rockiest point before it gets smoother. This is the abyss from which, after the dust has settled, they will look back with their arms looped around eachother's waists, and they will say "Whew! That was a close one!" And they will be glad that they had eachother to lean on, rail against, and be pushed through by in order to make it to the Other Side.
They just have to have faith and get there together.
Solution:
Snarky plans on making peace offerings tonight. But for now, she has a job interview for which to prepare, and a slowly rising tide of panic to quell with logic and love.
Snarky's rule of thumb for writing is the good/bad/good sandwich rule she learned to apply to constructive criticism. Start with something good (ex: "Your lettering on this proposed architectural plan is immaculate and evocative of long past youthful, carefree summers.. "), slide in a critique of what you found lacking (ex: ".. unfortunately your design not only is not to code, but evidences a blantant disregard to ADA regulations and to the human body in all its forms and functions, plus it sucks... and is made of poo ... "), and always close with another positive comment to lessen the sting and leave a better taste in everyone's mouth (ex: "... again, those are really pretty 'g's!"). It's an old crutch of hers, but it's served her well and has allowed her to limp far in the world of BPAL oil reviews, friends' fashion choice advising, The Mister's culinary side-step evaluations, and also blog entries.
Unfortunately Snarky didn't make a good sandwich in her last entry, which was nothing but ageist, whiny pantied, somewhat gross yuckiness. For this, she apologizes.
Snarky knows that every person is allowed to feel like total and utter crap, that sometimes indulging in a Bad Mood can help to purge oneself of built up gunk. But laying it all bare and out there with no relief or sign of redemption was irresponsible of her.
That is what LiveJournal is for.
So here's Snarky's after-dinner-mint to ease any indigestion from the last bad-bad-not funny enough sandwich of the last post:
Always Look on the Bright Side of Life
-Lyrics by Eric Idle, from "Life of Brian"
Some things in life are bad
They can really make you mad
Other things just make you swear and curse.
When you're chewing on life's gristle
Don't grumble, give a whistle
And this'll help things turn out for the best...
And...always look on the bright side of life...
Always look on the light side of life...
If life seems jolly rotten
There's something you've forgotten
And that's to laugh and smile and dance and sing.
When you're feeling in the dumps
Don't be silly chumps
Just purse your lips and whistle - that's the thing.
And...always look on the bright side of life...
Always look on the light side of life...
For life is quite absurd
And death's the final word
You must always face the curtain with a bow.
Forget about your sin - give the audience a grin
Enjoy it - it's your last chance anyhow.
So always look on the bright side of death
Just before you draw your terminal breath
Life's a piece of shit
When you look at it
Life's a laugh and death's a joke, it's true.
You'll see it's all a show
Keep 'em laughing as you go
Just remember that the last laugh is on you.
And always look on the bright side of life...
Always look on the right side of life...
(Come on guys, cheer up!)
Always look on the bright side of life...
Always look on the bright side of life...
(Worse things happen at sea, you know.)
Always look on the bright side of life...
(I mean - what have you got to lose?)
(You know, you come from nothing - you're going back to nothing.
What have you lost? Nothing!)
Always look on the right side of life...
(And yes, I know, I'm referencing two different Monty Python movies. The song fit the theme better, and I can't pass up a good "wafer thin" joke pretty much ever. So there you have it. It's worse than mixed metaphors!) (Of which I am unnaturally fond of as well.)
Snarky's analytical brain knows that there is still ONE MORE DAY until the house is officially theirs. But her animal Veruca Salt side of her brain is stomping its little patent-leather Mary Janes-shod feet all over the sensible hardwood floors, scuffing up the works.
Snarky just had a minor retail freak out over at Penance's tart site just now and is not looking forward to the reaction of The Mister. She doubts that he was as troubled as she was by the "Old House Smell" that was wafting up from the recently vacated basement. This assumption is based mostly on the fact that she had to point it out to him.
But she could not resist scent combinations like hinoki wood & cypress, blackberry & sage, persimmons (The Mister's favorite dessert fruit) & water orchid, and the legendary Red Velvet Cake.
Because Chez Snark will not have Old House Smell. It musn't!
Snarky is contemplating some sneaky shadiness in the form of "Oh! Why, it must be a housewarming gift from some mysterious and tasteful benefactor!" Yeah. That's the ticket.
Scent-induced memories have always been important to Snarky. Her memory is uneven and mostly buried in her subconscious (she could tangent off into a rather lengthy recap of this morning's just-before-the-alarm dream that dredged up all manner of high school, college, and oddly enough, recent pop-culture bugaboos). Anything to help trigger a sense of continuity and a past is snapped up and put in the arsenal.
Snarky wants this house to be linked to anything other than the Old House Smell. She probably went a bit overboard, but she wanted to have all her ol factory bases covered.
