Nordic Boy

Run away with you

I am sorry to start off with mega banality but a few days ago it was warm and so I retired my puffy coat and I could not have been more excited to wear lighter non-puffed outerwear and then I went to work and the weather was like SIKE and I froze my patoots and so now I am back to Sean Puffy Coat. Until we meet again, spring jackets. We will be together someday.

Everyone I know seems to be in a funk these days. How y’all doing? I hope you are taking care, and taking care of each other. I continue to burn the candle at several ends but the upside is that I have been sleeping the sleep of the mummified at night which is a new thing for me. My nighttime self really wants nothing whatsoever to do with anybody or anything these days. It’s like the click of the bedside lamp happens and my brain says “DEAR WORLD, NOPE” and that’s that. How’s that for a bright side?

Last weekend was the anniversary of the day that my dude and I met each other and it was kind of a big one in terms of number and it’s sad to say but neither of us could get our shit together enough to plan one gotdamn thing for it. We got up on Saturday morning and looked at each other over breakfast and I was like “fuck dude, I am so depleted” and he was like “fuck it, let’s get in the car and drive” and I was like “fuck yes” and he was like “fuck off Seattle” and we left. We got to Portland and HEY SEATTLE PEOPLE YOU KNOW WHERE THE SUN IS? IN PORTLAND. Those emeffers had all the rays, it was like Arizona except green and full of artisanal items. The first day we just walked and walked and talked and talked and by the end of the day I think I started to thaw my funk-ass heart a little. STRESS, SHAKE OFF. LIKE, BEGONE. We had a lovely dinner and then: oh sweet elixir of life, we got a pint of ice cream, laid up in a fancy hotel bed and watched HGTV and maybe idk smooched a little bit and that was thaaaaaa best. Oh hi, Chip and Joanna, Jonathan and Drew, fixy uppy flippy floppy tiny housey ALL OF IT. Now that we no longer have the cable tvs at home this was truly a treat and a half. The following day was a freaking delight and you know what really heals my heart? Looking at that dude of mine and holding him by the hand. I love him with all of my gutbones. Glad I found him all those years ago back in dinosaur times. Good job on that one, me. See how I turn it around and make it about congratulating myself? That’s just how I be sometimes. The point is, good anniversary time was had, love was felt, I am a lucky dingus.

On a related note: THIS SONG.  ❤

Runaway, Tay Walker

Flight Times

I am back from my travels and you know that scene from Almost Famous where Patrick Fugit has been on the road for what seems like months with a bus full of sweaty hairy hippies and he walks into his bedroom at home for the first time and raises his arms up and says “AHHHHH” like coming home to his own bed is so beautiful an experience it is almost painful? TOTALLY ME.

Remember how I was saying that everything in my life was happening in thirteen hour increments? Well, let me tell you that my trip home was not thirteen hours, and that’s not because a normal Michigan-Seattle flight is about 5 hours. Not for me, honeys! For me, it was sixteen hours. In sixteen hours, I went from Michigan to Ohio to North Carolina to Seattle. Why you do dis, airliners? After the grueling week I had, just, nope nope nope.

My dude had flown out to Michigan so he could spend the weekend with me and my mom, and so we got to experience our Flight Across America together on the way back. When we landed in Richmond, NC, he went to get his backpack from the overhead bin and IT WUDN’T THERE. Someone took his on accident, y’all!

We got off the plane and started running through the airport looking for the backpack person. It was so DRAMATIC- we both fanned out and just dodged our way through the crowd, scanning everywhere. It was just as though Jason Bourne had lost his backpack. I am sure that is how he would have handled it. Although he probably would have found the person and chopped them in the throat to get it back. We neither found it this way nor chopped anyone. We were in a panic though, because inside that backpack was not only an iPad, but there was also a giant ziploc bag full of my mom’s homemade cinnamon rolls. LIKE, GOLD DUBLOONS, BASICALLY.

Finally, we admitted defeat and went to the gate to report it. By that time the person had returned the backpack so it was sitting there all innocently, waiting for us. The gate agents had the nerve to scold us about leaving the backpack on the plane and we were too tired to argue the point that it was someone else’s case of Mistaken Backpackity.

Anyway, now I am home, it is total sunny gorgina in Seattle this week, I have had two nights in a row of sleep, glorious sleep, and all is good.

Consumables #152: Watching PeeWee’s Big Holiday

I took the day off on Friday and so did my dude and we did a proper gallivant around town. Seattle has recently opened some new light rail stations and they are so shiny and pretty and they get you to places in 5 minutes that it normally takes 40 minutes to drive/bus to. People around here have been going nutso talking about it, like a transporter has been invented. And I am here to say that the hype? In this case I think Public Enemy would be ok with me saying: believe it.

We ate a fancy pasta luncheon with Hayden and then we went to see this gorgeous exhibit at the art museum of artisanal arts. We then did some shopping, walking, being in the sunshine, just for miles and miles all day long. All with zooming around in the shiny new choo choo. ALL I WANNA DO IS ZOOMA ZOOM ZOOM ZOOM IN A CHOO CHOO.

It seems all of my references will be from circa 1990 today.

We also strolled into a semi-fancy restaurant for dinner, and the tables were all booked up so they sat us at a bar that looked into the open kitchen area. While there, eating our fancy feast human wet food, the chefs were straight up getting in each others’ faces with some food squabbles. I don’t think this is quite what the open kitchen seating is for, but I have to tell you, we were mesmerized.

Also accomplished this weekend, we saw a dance show which featured a piece by one of my current favorite choreographers in the world- it was so good I wanted to break something. It made me cry in the best way. Dancey business, you guys. It is my favorite, favorite thing.

To round out my 1990-ness, I watched PeeWee’s Big Holiday. I feel like Peewee Herman is either a thing that gets you right in your funny bone or it’s a thing that seems super dumb to you without any room in between, so it doesn’t make much sense for me to recommend this or not. Let me just say that when we watched it, there were a couple of scenes in it where we had to pause the movie because we were busting a gut so hard that barfy feelings may have been happening to us both. Like, we were in STITCHES. If you like PeeWee, you gotta watch this movie.

Consumables #138 Reading: The Kiss of Deception

My guy was driving into work yesterday morning and so I hitched a ride with him and right before we got downtown via the freeway, you GUYS. WE GOT HIT. One second we were yukking it up and the next some foolio plowed into us from the back and pushed us into the car in front of us. MUNCHED. Vehicle accordion.

We are both ok, but it was scary. On the humorous tip, my sunglasses flew right off of my face and hit the windshield in front of me. I felt like the sunglasses projectile really added a level of panache to the whole thing. For the rest of the day, I just felt sore everywhere, and I felt like someone had shaken me up like I was inside of a cocktail. I didn’t feel like myself all day long. Adrenaline is weird, the aftermath of adrenaline is weird, getting jostled hard is weird.

Who decided we would get places by speeding around in metal boxes at 70 miles an hour?

Anyway, books! I recently finished The Kiss of Deception, by Mary E. Pearson. In it, Princess Lia (I dare you to read this book and not think “Princess Leia”) is being married off by her parents in hopes of creating an alliance with a nearby kingdom. She decides at the last minute that she ain’t having none o’ dat mess and she takes off. The prince who she had been promised to comes after her, as does an assassin sent by her kingdom’s enemies to kick her bucket. The main fun thing about the book is that Pearson doesn’t tell you which of the two new characters is which– so you don’t know which guy is there to kill her and which one is there as her would-be fiance. When you think about it, that’s kind of a harsh statement about trust and if there is a difference between dudes who want you dead and dudes who say they want to marry you, innit. I mean, harsh one, Pearson.

Over and out, honies.

Away to Canaday

I have yet to master the fine art of Getting a Good Night’s Sleep on any sort of consistent basis for many years now. Every once in a while I sleep really well and when I wake up I feel like a freaking jillion bucks and I am pretty sure I would be president or at least have invented a flux capacitor by now with the brain power I would have had if I knew how to get some Z’s like a Normal. I may not know how to sleep very well, but I do know this: when you don’t sleep well, when the alarm goes off and you drag yourself out of the bed, yell out SLEEP IS FOR THE WEAK and this will help you a little bit. So I hear. Not that I have done that.

This past weekend my gentleman-friend and I decided to make a run for the northerly border. We decided this at the last minute, and therefore I violated one of my trip-planning rules: it’s fine to be spontaneous but you should always know where you are going to sleep and you should always have eating options thought through ahead of time. The hotel I booked. The eating: no idea. This resulted in my arriving in Vancouver full on hangry as we tried to find a place to eat lunch and every place we tried had a long wait line.

So far we have covered my being bad at sleeping and bad at eating. I promise you that we will stay within the confines of these two bodily functions and not a one more.

After the Canada/US Hangry Incident of 2015, the rest of the trip was damn fine. We wandered around with absolutely no rhyme or reason. I learned two things about my dude that in all these years I never knew: he has never been to a planetarium show in his life and he has never had a Slurpie from 7-11. You would think that the Slurpie thing would be the thing to remedy first especially since OMG there are 7-11s up the Canadian ying-yang, like seriously SO MANY 7-11s, but no. I got a bee in my bonnet about the planetarium thing. WE ARE GOING TO A CANADIAN PLANETARIUM IMMEDIATELY. Which we did. I prepped him by saying that he would have a powerful urge for sleepy times in there and he agreed with my via letting out the snortiest Dad-snore in the middle of the show that you have ever heard in your life. The kind where it is so loud that it wakes up the snoring person and scares them a little bit. This made me silent-laugh so hard that I choked on my own chuckle which caused me to cough like I had consumption. So, planetarium show: NAILED IT.

We never got around to the Slurpie.

Tick Tock and It Don’t Stop

Ok ok ok ok ok here’s the thing that you should know about me. When I am feeling mid-level whiney times, I tend to shut up. My feeling is, no one needs to hear my whining. No one, that is, except maybe my dude because he sort of has to. And so this is why it has been hard for me to get up the gumption for blog times lately. I AM TOO TIRED (whine whine). Also I JUST WANT TO WHINE ABOUT BEING TOO TIRED (meta whine whine). This does not make for great blogging.

The thing of it is, I have been working a lot. Like, more than I really should be. Quitting time seems to come and then go and yet there I sit, working myself stale, like a first class chump. Add to that the fact that Fixy McNordic Boy works even more than that. Like we are talking pulling 16 hour days like they are going out of style. I’m worried about that guy, and it’s stressing me OWWWWT. I also have other worries that are feeling a bit heavy and our lives have been so frantic that they have gotten really small, like I haven’t really reached out much, and where are all my friends again? I know they’re out there but we’re too busy running around like our asses are on fire and also my mom went home on her own again and I miss her but also am worried about her and then also I have some sort of grumpy cold that causes severe sniffles and grump symptoms and on top of that I busted my phone and when I transferred all my shit off my old phone to the new one all of my saved voicemails from my dad got erased forever and I hadn’t even listened to any of them since he died and I certainly wasn’t ready to do that soon anyway but I thought that some day there would come a day where I would want to hear those again and it was like I was saving them because I thought that when I was ready to listen to them I would then know that I am no longer devastated with missing him so anyway I was saving them and now they are gone and also AHHHHHHHHHHH

What I am saying is that this past month or so has had a frantic quality to it. I DO NOT LIKE IT. There’s never any time. I feel like life is getting away from me, days are going by like frames in a movie, flick, flick, flick, and I’m just like: wait! What was that? Go back! Can I see that part again? I missed it! And time is like suck it, sister. Why is time being a jerk? Time used to be my friend.

This is why I haven’t been blogging. This past week though, I have been turning my shit around. I MEAN IT. Come on, lady. Honestly. Get it together.

Mid-level whiney times OUT

Leaving Las Vegas

Considering that the first and only other time I went to Vegas, it struck me as so unpleasantly banutters, I am happy to report that this go around was eleventy three times better. Here are my thoughts on why this time was not only bearable but enjoyable.

1. This stay clocked in at about 36 hours, which felt like a light glaze of cheeseball, as opposed to my last trip, which was more than double that and felt like a scary Hotel California You Can Never Leave situation. Lesson learned. In and out, burgers.

2. This time I stayed away from kitschy lodgings shaped like the Pyramids and went to the Bellagio. The Bellagio has natural light (whaaaat Vegas the land of perpetual indoor nighttime) and ways to walk through it without having to go into a casino. And fancy rooms, and I love a super nice hotel room, people.

3. This time it was February instead of July so it I didn’t feel like I was a chicken caught by Kenny Roger’s Roasters up in that business. Instead it was 70 degrees with a light breezy in the heezy. Coming from the cold wet sponge that is Seattle in February, this was worth a lot.

4. The last time I was in Vegas it was for work and therefore I had meetings and locations and wayfinding and punctuality concerns. Vegas is not built for clock-centric living AT ALL. The only way to be there is if you have nowhere in particular to be.

5. Drop some bucks on some high end foodstuffs. It is like Fancy Feast for non-cat humans in Vegas!

6.  We went to the Neon Museum and it was SO COOL. Go to there.

So, yes Vegas, you were working for me this time around. I never would have thought it.

Las Vegas Tribute by Barry Manilow

Fly Away

Him: I never see you no more. Let’s go somewhere for the weekend.

Me: Portland, Vancouver, the coast? All sogfests, though.

Him: Let’s go someplace warm.

Me: A last-minute plane ticket will cost one meelion dollars.

Him: There’s got to be a deal somewhere.

Me: (typey typey computer lookup) The only cheap last minute tickets are for Vegas. Vegas is warm!

Him: I thought Vegas made you queasy.

Me: Oh, it was straight icky. But I want to take you there to see if it will make you feel gross too.

Him: Is that a reason to go there? To see if it will make me feel gross?

Me: Um, heck yes.

Him: Sold.

Me: Really?

Him: Buy the tickets.


Unrequited Rolo

I have a co-worker who has a giant candy bowl in her office and she keeps everyone on her floor sugar soused for most of the day. I, luckily, do not work on her floor, but I do pop in 3-4 times a week to get my Rolo on. Yesterday, I walked in there and there was ONE CANDY LEFT in the bowl. I took it because I had had an epic, unprecedented case of dumbday that morning and I needed that damn Rolo. I mean, I needed it BAD. I walked out the door with it, unwrapped it, and dropped it on the floor and it Rolo’d its sweet self across the room, away from my gaping maw. MY ROLO WAS LIKE NO-LO.

That story is so the metaphor for my week. It is only Wednesday, though. I feel like I can turn things around. NEVER SURRENDER.

My dude has been on a business trip since Monday, and I would like the record to show that him being gone that long is total crap, and that I object on the grounds of absentia flagrante malfeasance, and that this objection is sustained, and also that I hereby rule in favor of his trip being annulled. [gavel knock] Adjourned.

I see that face you are making at me and I hold you in contempt. Damages: one Rolo that has never been contiguous to any flooring surface, to be paid to me in full via candy dish.

A Little Whine With Dinner

Lately the dude and I have been hankering to lay eyes on each other just a bit (and I’m talking about my dude, not The Dude) and it is not working out, people. He has been getting up in the 4:30-5am range and out the door, and he gets home after seven and usually has to go straight to laptop town to do more work, and then is exhausted, and lucky if he makes his eyeballs stay open until 9. I shuffle out of bed in the morning in time to see him for a few minutes, and we have a few minutes of catch up conversation each evening, but that has been IT lately, and it sucks donkey dingus. Mostly for him, because he is being run ragged, but I feel entitled to a little whine of my own. POOOOOOOR MEEEEEEEEEEEEEE