Costume: Girl Who Bought a Coat on Time

Eep! It’s November tomorrow! Should I pretend that I am going to do NaBloPoMo and post every day for the month of November? I feel like I shouldn’t pretend. But maybe I will do it! Keep hope alive! Even though the liklihood is nearly zero!

I was on the phone with someone who recently moved away from Seattle to California and he asked me how the weather has been here and when I told him that it has been like a waterlogged geoduck with extra dank drizzle in the hizzle, he had the nerve to laugh with joy and tell me how happy this made him that he was not spending November in Seattle. I couldn’t blame him. I woulda been laughing too if I was dry enough, but it turns out you can get so wet as to not be able to ha ha.

But! You guys! I have accomplished something truly amazing. I have managed, somehow, to have done coat shopping for winter, BEFORE WINTER. Usually I am woefully under-coated each winter, because I forget (denial!) that winter is coming (you’d think I would remember it since the House Stark won’t ever shut up about it) until it is very very late, and then I start to look around when stock is already switching and blah blah no good coat. NOT THIS YEAR. I bought a nice rain coat months ago, and then a few weeks ago I bought a nice winter coat to wear for fancy times. I already had a dressed down winter coat (one of those puffy ones that looks like a sleeping bag with arms), and so here we are, BAM, three coats that cover most coat needs. Is it sad that these are the types of things in my life that make me feel like I really and truly am a goddamn grown up?

Happy Hall-and-Oates-aween, everyone! May you eat lots of candy, cut a face into a gourd of some sort, be terrified in a way that is somehow pleasant to you, and wear an outfit where you pretend to be someone else. I toyed with the idea of going through the entire holiday season saying “what’s that?” every time someone wished me a Happy Halloween or Merry Christmas or what have you, because that is what almost everyone said to me when I tried to wish them a happy Diwali last week, which I have to tell you, harshed my festive feelings, which is sad because I so rarely have holiday-related festive feelings. How you gonna say “what’s that” about Diwali, dudes?  20 per cent of the earth is celebrating Diwali but I am surrounded by “what’s that?”  Literally over a billion people be knowing what Diwali is, so I think maybe it should be something that some of us have heard of, even in passing. Anyone? Anyone? Oh never mind just go put on your dumb costume.

Anyhow. I have resentful holiday issues up the ying yang. This should not be a surprise to anyone.

Do not worry, I shall be hanging out with my nephew and his rugrat friends this evening and that will make it impossible for me to remain surly. I may have to say “what’s that?” in response to one Happy Halloween though. Just once. It will make me feel better. That plus I will be wearing a November-appropriate coat! HOLLA! (ween)

Be safe out there tonight, my lovelies.




Water times three

I have to list the latest, my dears.

1. I keep forgetting to hydrate this week, which is making me sleeeeeeeeeeepy and low energy all day long. I used to have a coworker who would always whisper to himself audibly “water water waterrrrr” before running off to find his water bottle. Like, every single time. Water water waterrrr. Three in a row. I find it weird but yet he was not walking around like a sleepy dope so whatever works, dude.

2. Also, I have been feeling extra grumpy. I think maybe water is important or something? Maybe science could look into it.

3. One of my mom’s best friends’ daughter was in town for a conference so we met up to hang out. We have talked on the phone but never seen each other in person. I feel like this is a phenomenon that doesn’t get talked about– when you become friends with people based on the fact that your parents are friends. Does anyone else do this? Maybe it’s not a thing.

4. Fixy stopped by my work today quite unexpectedly. That was lovely.

5. I recently learned that some people consider any beverage with bubbles in it “spicy.” I would like to register a complaint about this in triplicate.

No Canada! Stayed Home in Our Own Land

That was an O Canada thing I did there. Did you get it? Look, I am tired ok? It’s all I got.

It has definitely turned into lights out time in Seattle. It’s still pretty warm but the clouds have rolled in, so we’ll be seeing you next spring, Sun. This is where I make my annual lemon fresh pledge to not complain about the weather because (a) it’s weather and really it’s not that bad especially considering I have my Midwest rep to uphold and (b) you know and I know that it’s tiresome to listen to weather complaints from other people during times of year that you like the weather. So just like I get tired of the Coldies harumphing about the sun, I know they don’t want to hear me acting a Chilly Willy foolio in winter.

Let’s see if I make it through the season without complaining. On the one hand, I never have made it too long before the whimpering busts through. On the other hand, I am a lot better than I used to be.

Why am I talking so much about the weather right now? For Pete’s sake. Get it together, lady.

This past weekend we had a sort of half-baked plan to maybe head to Canadia for a couple of days, but the weather looked iffy (gah! the weather again!) so we ditched it at the last minute, which left us the entire weekend plan-free. We went out to dinner at a fancy restaurant Friday night (the place had crickets as an appetizer and I know I should get over it and be more urbane and sophisticated and intellectually I totally get it but BARRRRRFFF), and on Saturday night we decided to try to get some people together for a drink at our neighborhood bar but every person we invited was sick except for a couple that are friends of friends, so we ended up on a sort of double date with them. This could have easily been awkward or even straight up awful, but it was nice. I wondered afterward if I talked too much, but I always wonder that. Well, either I wonder if I talk too much or if I talked too little. I don’t usually worry too much about the content of what I say. For me, the worry is quantity. Do you have that? I feel like no one else has that.

Sunday we repainted our bedroom because it’s been sort of torn up ever since the built in closet went in. I have no photos of that because it’s boring. We spent the rest of the weekend in a sort of cleaning and errand frenzy and wrapped up the whole shebang with a nice long evening of tv. Weekend sufficiently rocked.

Dizz gives me a quiz

My lovely blog friend from across the Atlantic, writer of dizzntizznfizz, name checked me in a little bloggy questionnaire the other day (and YES, Dizz, we will hang out in person someday!), and therefore, I shall take her 20 things quiz. (I have all the trouble in the world remembering how to spell questionnaire. Questionairre? Questionaire? Questloveaire? Ugh).

1. How tall are you?
5’4″ which I know is a common height, but I feel short. I am forever unable to reach top shelves, it seems.

2. Do you have a hidden talent? If so, what?
I can’t think of anything that I’m hiding. If I have a talent, yo, I’ll share it (please say that to the Vanilla Ice line: “if you gotta problem, yo, I’ll solve it”).

3. What’s your biggest blog-related pet peeve?
I guess when spammers make it through to my Comments section. If we expand it to social media in general, I am always a bit embarrassed when people use public social media to have a conversation that seems better done using something more private, like a text or email. I’m not talking about anything weird or humiliating, but just even mundane things. Like, if someone on Twitter asks me to meet them for lunch on Twitter, for any other followers to see, it makes me uncomfy. It’s like being in a crowded party and having someone shout across the room to you to plan a lunch date, making everyone else hear it, for no reason. Just direct message, is all I’m saying. That said, I am sure I have done this at some point, without thinking about it that way, so maybe the moral of the story is: Peevicians, peeve thyself.

4. What’s your biggest non-blog related pet peeve?
Oh, so many. Now that I am thinking about it, I have peeves upon peeves. I am Mario Van Peevels. Let’s just go with a few off the top of my head. I do not like it when people treat old people like children. I am peeved by people who take up more than one seat on the bus. I am peeved when people show disdain for people who have plastic surgery (why is this a thing that we feel we can be so casually unkind about? I do not get it). I am peeved by (is this even a correct way to express peeves? “I am peeved by?”) catcalling. DROWNING IN PEEVES.

5. What’s your favorite song?
Who the HECK can answer this question? One song? I don’t think so! I’ll say Harvest Moon is up there: my dude and I have danced to it a time or two or a hundred and it’s romantical.

6. What’s your favourite Etsy shop that isn’t yours?
I don’t have one. But! My most favorite thing I bought off of Etsy was a Lloyd Dobler necklace made by Missbluebirdandoscar, which I gave to Alli because I knew she would lo-oo-oo-ve it. I love gifting.

7. What’s your favorite way to spend your free time when you’re alone?
Reading or taking a walk. Listening to an audiobook while taking a walk equals a chocolate-and-peanut-butter situation.

8. What’s your favorite junk food?
Popsicles or ice cream in warm weather (and sometimes even in cold weather). Dried mango slices are also a current fave, although they have to be a certain level of dried (not too), and a certain thickness of slice. I have a couple of mango slice hook-ups and I don’t stray from those, because MANGO DIVA.

9. Do you have a pet or pets?
No. This is one of those questions that makes me feel like I have to qualify it by talking about how much I adore animals, etc. It is the same feeling I have when people ask me if I have kids. But this time, I’m just going to say no, I don’t, and not do the list of qualifiers.

10. What are your number one favorite fiction and non-fiction books?
Ugh, this is even worse than the favorite song question! I will just name two that I loved, even if I can’t claim to have favorites. Fiction: Last Night at the Lobster, by Stuart O’Nan. I love how kind O’Nan is to his characters. Nonfiction: Looking White People in the Eye, by Sherene Razack, because it kind of got me through college.

11. What’s your favorite beauty product? 
I know it’s not glamorous, but I love my Keihl’s lotion. It’s expensive but worth it. Ain’t nobody walking around ashy over here with Keihl’s on the case!

12. When were you last embarrassed? What happened?

I really cannot think of a truly embarrassing situation that has happened to me recently. I guess I am due. Crap.

13. If you could only drink one beverage (besides water) for the rest of your life what would it be?
Does flavored fizzy water count? I’m going to say it counts. I love me my bubble water.

14. What’s your favorite movie?
Sheeeeeet. Even harder still than the music/books questions! Adam’s Rib? How to Marry a Millionaire? The Bicycle Thief? I don’t know.

15. What were you in high school: prom queen, nerd, cheerleader, etc.

Part of no group, part of every group. I felt friendly with everyone, yet didn’t “belong” but never had an expectation to. I guess I was an arty kid, with the dance school times and theater times, but I was friends with everyone who wasn’t a jerk, and I found those people regardless of cliques. There is a trick to being peripheral, weaving in and out, and that’s what I did, and it worked for me.

16. If you could live anywhere in the world, where would you live?
New York City, if I felt like I could afford it, which I do not.

17. PC or Mac?

18. Last romantic gesture from your man?
Oh, I see romance in so many things he does. Like, he is spending his morning today calling furnace fixers in Michigan for my mom, whose furnace is on the fritz. The way he is sweet to her is romantic to me. Is that weird?

19. Favorite celebrity?
Oh celebrities…Tig Notaro, Jessica Williams, Jenny Slate, Maria Bamford. Smart, funny ladies are the best.

20. What blogger do you secretly want to be best friends with?
Anne Helen Peterson from Celebrity Gossip, Academic Style, or Kat Chow from NPR’s Code Switch.

Anyone else want to do this? Do it up, and tell me so I can peep your’n.

One thousand blah blahs

A few posts ago, I got a little alert telling me that I had successfully posted one thousand times. Whoo! I typed out mil blah blahs! I certainly have never had any claim on quality around these parts, but I have stuck with writing (and I use that term as loosely as is humanly possible) posts for a long time, which is something, I guess. There have been lots of times that I have questioned why the heck I keep doing this, when most of the blogging community that I had found when I first started have all quit (and like, literally, they have almost allllll quit, and I have such fond memories of them and I miss reading them even now). I loved that community. It was so cool to meet people in blogland, and there are folks who I met from that in real life that I consider lifelong pals now, but of those, I can only think of two that still blog. So if not to exchange blah blahs with that community, then what? I have always had a very disconnected idea about who was following my blog; I am not one for looking at blog stats or numbers of followers, so it all seems a bit hazy to me. I feel like there are probably three people out there reading regularly at any given time, but that never bothered me none. So if not to gain followers, and if not to be part of a community, and if not to churn out quality, then what? The longer I do this, the less the external particulars matter. Which is akin to the way I feel about life in general, come to think of it. The older we get, the more we understand how little we know in terms of particulars, but there’s wisdom in that not knowing somewhere, even if it’s just wisdom about our own ignorance. Oy, papi, look at me trying to get hella deep! I promise you I have not been huffing a doobie.

Anyway. One thousand times, I’ve written a little message and thrown it out into nothingness. A very few times, those messages ping with someone and they send me a little message back via a comment. Even more rare, the message hits someone, they comment, or email, and out of that grows a friendship. But by far, most of the time, my little messages just get hurled out there and I never see them land anywhere with anyone. Like a bottomless pit or those freaky scenes in “Gravity,” they just go out, and disappear, and for all I know they just float sleepily with no readerly eyeballs to nudge them awake. To me, the landing of these posts is not a given, but I just keep lobbing. To throw, without expectation of a catch on the other end, is a muscle that is important to me, I guess. A thousand times over, at least.

Blog reset, maybe, I think

Hey y’all. The blog needs a kick in the pants, is what I am thinking. I have always had a very loosey goosey philosophy about this space. My feeling was that there are so many pressures and constraints around creativity that the blog was a place for me to actively throw all of that out and practice spontaneity, practice being unselfconscious, and practice throwing some words on a screen and not worry about whether they’re any good or not. I had some rules about stuff I wouldn’t write about because they belong to other places in my life, but other than that, anything went. Lately, I have felt less inclined to write, and the length in between posts has gotten bigger than ever before. Part of that is that my time is managed a bit differently than before- I have a lot of plates spinning these days. Part of it is that, because I have so many things going on and so many thoughts in my head, having no constraints on the writing here actually feels overwhelming. I think that for now, I may need some constraints. The loosey goosey has gone out of control, people. When I can write about anything, I want to write about everything, and I get inundated with ideas, and that makes me feel a sort of writerly constipation, and then I just don’t write anything at all. So, I’m going to try something. Maybe I will hate it and we will soon be back to loosey goosey land. But for the next little bit I am going to try writing more about the pop cultures, with life thrown in here and there. I know, that sounds exactly the same as what I have been doing before, but just go with me. I am going to write about books and movies and tv and all that- maybe in smaller chunks to spread it out a bit more, and maybe more often because the name of the dang blog is Pop Culture Librarian so maybe I should be librarianing some pop cultures more regular-like instead of constantly talking about deck-building. On the other hand, when I want to talk about my rando life stories I shall do so, don’t you worry none about that. So basically I am saying that nothing will change to your eye but it will feel like a change to me. Maybe. We’ll see. Maybe I shouldn’t have even said anything. Ah well.

Mid August Mix

I forgot about you this week, dear blog! Oops. Let’s just sum up the week via potpourri thoughts.

A lot of friends of mine had birthdays this week, so there was a lot of celebrating. I went to a bar that was so dark and whose deejay was playing music so loud that the effort involved in trying to talk to our friends was sort of more than Nordic Boy and I could handle. HOW ARE YOU??? … WHAT???…I SAID, HOWW ARE YOUUUUU?…WHAT????…IS THAT JENNY OVER THERE?…I CAN’T SEE, I AM NOT SURE!!!…WHAT???  Places that are that loud that do not have a dance floor (because, really, what are you going to do in an environment like that other than dance) make no sense to me at all. A second birthday hang out was at another bar that had skeeball. I have not played skeeball in some time, but I shall tell you that my strategy is to whip that shit as hard as I can in order to bounce it up to 100-point-hole levels. This is not the greatest strategy, and maybe a bit dangerous as things can get whipped right off the lane, but I am committed.

Many people in my life have been taking vacations and trips right about now, including my mom, sister, nieces, and nephews who have been on a month-long trip to New Zealand and Fiji to visit relatives. For the first couple of weeks I was genuinely just excited for them. Now, I have pretty much moved into Waves of Embittered Jealousy. I haven’t taken a trip– even just a weekend away somewhere– for a long time. Well, there was Vegas, I guess. Still, I need to bust out of this popsicle stand this year to somewhere non-work-related. It is now written so now it shall be done, as Yul Brynner/Rameses would say.

I have been feeling like I need to step up my fashion game lately. Therefore I have started doing Outfit of the Day on Instagram so’s I can be inspired. You should go do it too so I can peep you and help me get back to my fashion-excitable self.

5:30 a.m.

(Alarm goes off)
Him: Rumplestiltskin. What was that guy’s deal?
Me: I don’t know. Something about a lady spinning yarn into gold? And he’s going to take her baby unless she can guess his name.
Him: Why?
Me: To eat it?
Him: Like a dingo?
Me: I guess?
Him: That’s fucked up.
(Turns alarm off)

We laughed, we cried, we hydrated

Now that I have a fancy new blog outfit (hoo doggy I love a new outfit!) I kept waiting all week for something of import to inspire me to write something on it. Now that I am all dressed up, I need to have something TO SAY. But dang if we wait for that to happen I may never write anything ever again. So I shall just give you an update on whatsa haps this week.

The first thing is that Nordic Boy was unloading his truck in the parking lot of his work the other day, and this woman walked by him, around his truck, said hello, got into a car in the parking spot just across from him, backed out and backed right into the front of his truck and MUNCHED IT. Just like that, all la-di-dah, backing out normally, but oh no, not turning, not turning, SMASH. While Nordic Boy just stood there agape. I think she must have just spaced out or something? So we are now the proud owners of a smooshed-face truck. Nordic Boy tried to be mad about it but the way he told that story to me was so funny that it cracked us up. I realize that this is how we deal with a lot of things that make us angry: we tell a funny story about it and crack the other person up, and then both of us crack up. Is this healthy? Or are we sidestepping angry feelings? I thought it was supposed to be sad people that make things funny, you know, tears of a clown and all of that. No one talks about rage of a clown. I guess maybe because that would be terrifying. Anyway, I don’t know if this is a healthy coping strategy or not but at least we are getting some yuks out of things.

You know what didn’t make us laugh? Our taxes. Nordic Boy switched jobs in the middle of last year and oh papi that effed us right up in the Uncle Sam department. We paid more than we ever have before and it HURT ME IN MY INNARDS. I do not have any problem with taxes as a concept and honestly we usually have to pay each year and I have no issues with it but this time it was a bit much. So, just in case you thought we laugh at everything. Hit us hard enough in the pocketbook and not only will I not laugh but I might want to barfy on my scarfy.

In other domestic news, we bought a humidifier for our bedroom because we were waking up feeling all dried up like two sticks of human jerky each morning and methinks it is helping me sleep better. I sort of don’t understand how shit can be so dry when it does nothing but piss buckets of rain all the livelong day and night for months on end, but there you have it.

That’s all I got. How about a song?

Aaliyah, More Than A Woman