Pavement is the new everythingFirst off, let me apologize profusely for not trumpeting the birth of my sister's son, Sullivan. (Lliv, for short. That's pronounced "Yiv," out of homage to our Latino heritage. "Me llamo Lliv. Y tu?") I know, I know, I should have gotten off my duff and made some sort of announcement. And here it is.
I'm in the Philadelphia suburbs this weekend. When I'm here, my weekends consist of me waiting, with varying levels of patience, for the workweek to resume. This weekend is no different. I started out the day with a bowl of oatmeal, a pot of coffee, and the television remote control. I was flipping through the channels and happened across HGTV, where I saw the face of someone I knew staring back at me. No one else would know him -- he used to hit on me at parties in Minneapolis. It turns out that he redid his yard with the assistance of a modern-day Jean-Baptiste de La Quintinie. The La Quintinie of pavement, anyway. What is the attraction of a paved yard, other than that it allows you to be even lazier than usual?
Hmm, more rambling than usual....
Labels: Lliv, Potager du Roi
It's raining babiesAlmost a month ago, my brother's wife had a son. Last night, my boyfriend's sister had a daughter. My own sister is 40 months pregnant (we in the real world reckon this number to be closer to 8 months, but she puts it at around 40 and we know by now not to argue with her) and hopes to give birth to a child as soon as possible. What gives?
It's raining grasshopper babiesWe've been suffering through a terrible heat wave here in the Philly suburbs. (Would you expect anything less from the bowels of hell?) Yesterday morning, as I was driving down the highway on my way to work, I noticed a bright green grasshopper sitting on the tan dashboard of my rental car. I wasn't sure how he'd gotten into the car, or what exactly it was that he might have wanted (he may just have been enjoying the air conditioning), but I was afraid that if he got stuck in the car for the day, he'd either bake to a golden brown or die from hunger. So I cornered him and picked him up and ever so gently threw him out of the window. Godspeed, little grasshopper!
Labels: lack of commitment to celibacy, Lila, Marguerite, Mason
I work with consultants. I work with consultants. I work with consultants. And they suck.It's a rainy spring evening in hell, and someone's in a less-then-rosy mood. I'd thought the rain might pick me up, but it didn't rain long enough, or thunder loud enough, and so here I sit. I'm stuck in an uncomfortable place: mashed between not wanting the week to start, and wishing like all hell that the week were over. (I go home on Friday night.)
Why dread the week that will take me home? It's because I work with consultants. And I'm sick to death of how much they talk (not to mention how little they do). I've heard any number of times, from any number of consultants, that the only way to really reach people is to repeat oneself. "Tell 'em what you're going to tell 'em, tell 'em, and then tell 'em what you told 'em." Certainly not my style, which could probably be summed up as "whisper it to 'em and if they don't hear you it's because they're stupid."
I think once this project is over, I will go to a monastery in France somewhere, for a whole month, to bask in glorious silence.
Labels: droning, pontificating, toll-gating, yapping
Missionary PositionAs you may or may not know (or care), I am living in a remote suburb of Philadelphia for most of the rest of the year. It's delightful out here -- boiling hot and humid, abounding with conservatives, and almost completely devoid of organic food. (Maybe all suburbs lack organic food. I guess I don't know. What's all the extra land for? Grass?)
Labels: hell, morons, republicans
Making your way in the world todaytakes everything you've gotI woke up the other morning, radiantly happy, with the word SEMI-RETIREMENT floating in front of my eyes. It was Saturday, I could sleep in, and I was SEMI-RETIRED. I don't know what semi-retired actually means (my guess is that it means one is NOT actually retired), but damn was I happy. And then I realized that it was not Saturday, it was Thursday. But you know what? I didn't care, because I was SEMI-RETIRED. Semi-retirement is apparently the key to happiness in life. So I'm going with it.I decided to semi-retire just in time, because I found out on Friday that I will be starting a new project soon. A project that will take me to Collegeville, PA for the next nine months. I'll be working out of a hotel room in Collegeville, just a stone's throw from Philadelphia and a boulder's throw from Valley Forge National Park!! So semi-retirement is keeping me busy. The client will be springing for my food, lodging, periodic jaunts to New Jersey, and infrequent plane rides back to Seattle. I, in between naps, will supply huge amounts of very valuable knowledge, with maybe a snappy comment thrown in here and there. So when you're scheduling your next Revolutionary War Historical Tour and you decide that Valley Forge is the place to go, look me up. Chances are that I will be in a state of semi-retirement somewhere near where you need to be. Offer good until the end of 2007. May not be combined with other promotion offers. Cash value 1/10,000th of one cent.Labels: cactus, mothership, purgatory
Storm of the CenturyMy family is digging out from Blizzard 2007. I am enjoying spring flowers. HA ha! I feel so bad for them.
I bought new pots today so that I can grow herbs on my balcony this summer. V. exciting.
A brand new dayI found out on Friday that I received a promotion at work. As of today, I am a permanent employee with paid vacations and holidays off and all the other little perqs that come with a signed contract. Very exciting, so why am I nervous?
Wish me luck!
