What's with all the typos?

I use Safari.
That means I have no tools in my blogger tool bar
except a spellcheck icon that says "error" when I click it.

I guess I could use another... server? platform? interweb connector software thingie?

meh.

whatev.

deal with the typos...

it reminds me that nothing's ever perfect.

The Golden Compass

OhmygodOhmygodOhmygod
I am so excited to see this



These books got me through many a mean red, provided ample reminder of sincerity in this snarky world and generally fed my need for awkward teen love.

repetition repetition propinquity repetition

For the first time in 5 years, I'm grounded by a job in a certain place for a certain time doing a certain series of things.
And I love it.

I've missed the rhythms of normalcy in the years of free-lancing, getting another degree and working from home.
Those years allowed me to travel - for work and for fun - go the beach (alot), spend an increased amount time with my sassy-pants grandmother and generally thumb my nose at The Man, but I can't help but relish the experience of expecting certain things and having those things happen.

I have settled into more solid routine than I've ever had before, and even the things I'm doing have an element of rhythm and repetition, such as swimming and knitting.

Other than work, the thing that's been most erratic in my life in the past few years has been the masculine element, and I wonder if I've courted it.

Since I was rarely consistant in my own life, I think I may have given a bit more room for inconsistancy in men, which is fine... in theory.

What I've learned (or what I think I think I've learned) is that if you give a man an inch for inconsistancy, he'll take 26.2 miles. But slowly, at an increasing pace and in such a way that, like the proverbial camel in the proverbial tent, he'll nose his way bit by bit into completely disrespectful asshole.

So now, after 5 years of consistant inconsistancy, I want to be allowed to both have expectations and have them met more often than not.

Now that I've found a rhythm, I'd like to find some propinquity.

In the meantime, work swim eat knit read sleep work social bills sleep work swim knit clean cook sleep...

Out martha-ing martha

After a friday night of Strongbow fueled debauchery at Prosperity, I went to visit the family in Erie Co.

Dad got a smoker from my uncle and has been obsessed with cooking the perfect smoked turkey. As usual, it was amazing. Got-up-at-five-a.m.-and-started-the-process amazing.
And since it's that wonderful time between summer and fall harvests, we had the best of both along with dinner.

Sunday, I spent the day gathering the final tomatoes, zucchini, seckel pears from my grandmother's garden; but the lion's share of the time was spent gathering and husking chestnuts.

These aren't the kind that fell prey to the early 20th century blight, but they are edible and now represent my favorite part of fall.

We go out to the trees in turn, each coming back with a full half-peck basket. They're so plentiful that we sell them at a stand up the road, which is good, since I got gourds and pumpkins gratis.

I came home with a basket full of goodies, and spent this evening making concord grape sorbet and chocolate ice cream infused with chocolate mint.

I roasted chestnuts last evening on my neighbor's grill... v. good, but we left them too long with the chatting and the beer.

Throughout this weekend, I spent my free time knitting because after 3 attempts, I seem to finally get it.

So as long as I live within walking distance of downtown, I'll maintain my rural side. And I'm sure if I moved to a rural area, I'd become hyper-metropolitan.

So for now, I imagine my grandmother's as the country house and my apartment in Tremont as my pied de terre.

cake

We're taking a friend out for a going-away celebration tonight, and his friends and I discussed the possibility of making him a dirty cake; specifically a penis cake.

What I really wanted to to was stack cupcakes up and make a giant edible erection with cupcake-ie junk.

Unfortunately, I was pre-empted by the purchase of a cake fit for a 10-year old girl from Dave's that we're apparently going to write harassing statements on.

that's fine.
funny.
less craftie.
whatev.

but for a few sweet shining glorious moments, I was answering my phone "Penisson and sons, bakery"

it brings back the glory days of
"Office of student affairs, would you like one?"

*sigh*

to be a 17 year old boy...

An open letter to Rush Limbaugh

Dear Rush,

About the vicodin...

Yeah.

I totally get it now.

But I still think you're a no-talent ass-hat.
Scratch that.
Brain-dead crotch-weasel.
Nope....
How about politically inflamatory ass-clown crotch-weasel...?

Best,
Sarah

not entirely broken

thank goodness for ice packs

my back is getting better, but i feel like a slug

i spent the better part of the day watching 30 rock episodes online
and i think i drank my volume in coke zero

i did go for a walk with a neighbor who has a slipped disk,
it was nice to share a hobble with a friend

and a friend dropped by with a heating pad

back to work tomorrow
staying home isn't fun when you're actually sick/wounded

ouch

So I thrashed my lower back yesterday
and I do NOT feel like a badass

I feel like a gimp

I normally do stretches on my excercise ball, including a backbend...
my right lower back twinged a little
and i continued to stretch and then clean my living room

and it got worse

and worse

so now I can only bend over by doing a grand plie

home from work

with an ice pack

this sucks

fall=busy

this weekend I (in no particular order)
Saw "The Brave One"
Ate pulled pork
Went to the Tremont Arts Fest, purchased art
Went to Stan Hywet
*Played in treehouses
*Ate apples from the tree and grapes from the vine
*Played with butterflies
*Walked alot
Went to the West Point Market
*Drank wine
*Ate the best chicken pot pie ever
Made chocolate zucchini bread
Went back to the arts fest
Watched the Up Ensemble play hot jazz
Went BACK to the arts fest again, purchased MORE art
Went to Lolita and ate cured meats and fancy pizzas with a he-harem
Went to Scoops for ice cream sandwiches with aforementioned he-harem
Laughed
Climbed
Skipped and
Giggled

chicka chicka yeah

2000 meters freestyle

*holla*

that was my Oct 1 goal

100th post

Crazee.

Not sure what to say, except I swam 1500+ meters today.

And I'm proud.

And tired.

Off to clean the kitchen.

Thrilling.

The Perfect Shoe (Lady Post)

UPDATED UPDATE: I came to work at 8:30... it was 10 when I posted... I'm not *that* spoiled.
Almost 5 - haven't kicked them off under the desk yet.
I am beyond pleased... and way too into these shoes.

UPDATE: 10:30 am... marched into work in wellies (it's RAINING) and switched into The Perfect Shoe. I swear to God, I could run a marathon.
If running marathon means going downstairs to Starbucks for tea.
I plan on doing a 500 meter along the corridor of the office at 4pm to test the long-term wearability of The Perfect Shoe.

Carry on.

***
Girls.
We like our options.

Sure, we'll try to make a silk boyfriend out of sow's ex... or something... but the shoe has to be nothing less than PERFECT from day one.

Otherwise... it's
too pointy or
too square or
not pointy enough or
too shiny or
too matte or
too patent-y,
you know...

But I found The Perfect Black Shoe, purchased yesterday at Ann Taylor



If any of you EVER hear me say ANYTHING about not having the "right shoe" feel free to pick up the shoe and put out an eye.
My eye, I mean,
for being a whiny, spoilt prat with skewed priorities and a subscription to Vogue.

I appreciate it.

In the meantime, I'll be prancing around downtown in my perfect shoes, gleefully tossing my tam, balancing on fountains with a sassy twinkle in my eye and other standard-issue young-thing-in-the-city attitudes I could potentially strike.

Urban Spinario

Spinario, or Boy with Thorn.
A classic posture used in art, not unlike the contraposto.

A sculpture


A lithograph


A photograph


Yesterday, as I walked down the alley to my parking garage, I saw a man sitting in a doorway in this classic pose.

It reminded me a trip I took to New York City almost 10 years ago, when I saw a man in Central Park, in the same pose.

Something about that moment reminded me that in thousands of years, little has changed.

A thorn is still a thing to be reckoned with.

weep

Madeleine L'Engle died today.

Read her books, if you haven't already.

I always wanted to be Meg Murray and someday meet my Calvin O'Keefe.
What a great example of awkward teenage love...

Is there anything more pure, more baggage-free, more soul-comforting than 100% unsullied-by-time nerd-love?

No.

No there isn't.

*sigh*

Savagely wringing out the last drips of summer

This evening was beautiful, so I met a friend for al fresco smoothies at Liquid Planet in Lakewood.

We were supposed to go to the beach after, but the weight of the day proved too much, so I went alone.

I stopped being the girl who went to the beach alone a long long time ago - like -1989-long-time-ago.
And its not that I'm opposed to being that girl, but the beach seems like the final frontier of alone-i-tude.

Maybe its the lack of trust. A fear that I'll come back to find my things stolen.
Or maybe it's just so much exposure, emotional on top of the physical.

Who knows.

But I went anyway, drawn by the fleet of white from Wed'y race night offshore.
I figured I would walk the loop and sit on rocks.

But as I walked, I became succinctly aware of my bathing suit -
My skin itched to get into the water -
Suddenly my entire body was a dowsing rod and I couldn't NOT be in the water.

So I ran back up to the car... the whole time arguing with myself that if I didn't go into the water, it was a loss for my life and then thinking how much easier it would be to simply go home, defeated.
Somehow, when I was making up my mind to go back to the beach, the decision was on a far grander scale than simply to swim or not to swim.

It was more about trust and confidence and independence and self-indulgence.

That said, I left my clothes and keys in the car, taking only my ignition key and hanging it from my necklace.
I took my beach bag and walked down to the shore and swam for an hour.
I dog-paddled and did the breast-stroke and free-styled and floated and treaded water and swam out past the buoys to watch the spinnakers unfurl on the boats.
Alone.

So now I'm the girl who can swim alone.

Chocolate zucchini bread

I'm a pretty lax baker when it comes to experimental things (I tend to incorporate 2-3 recipes together and see what happens)
I love when what happens is good...
(I have to commit it to paper before I forget)

Pre-heat oven to 350 (325 if using a glass dish)

3 eggs
2 cups sugar
1 tsp vanilla or about 1/2 a bean
5 oz chocolate (milk... semi sweet... whatev)
1 heaping Tbsp unsweetened cocoa
1/2 can PLAIN pumpkin puree
2.5 cups shredded zucchini... sort of rung out, but not bone dry

2 cups flour
2 tsp baking soda
1/4 tsp baking powder
1 tsp salt
1 tsp cinnamon
1 tsp ground ginger

Melt the chocolate on LOW in a sauce pan (I use the Trader Joes Pound Plus... 5 squares... 3 milk, 2 semi sweet)
Don't over-melt it... you could nuke it, but I've long since gotten rid of the beast.
Anyway-
So you whip the eggs into a frothy, lemon-colored riot.
add the sugar... vanilla... cocoa... pumpkin - stir till smooth.
Fold in the zucchini.

Add more chocolate if you see fit... no judgement... this recipe is OIL FREE and therefore equal to a monastic fast.

In a separate bowl, mix dry ingredients (no need to sift, my pretties, this is rough hewn baking).

Stir dry into the wet.

This is about 1 loaf + 3 mini loaves worth...

So spray that PAM (the baking PAM smells cloyingly sweet, in a good way)
and scoop the batter and lick the spoon.

Bake the little ones about 45 minutes, or until a knife comes out clean.
Bake the bigger one about an hour, hour fifteen... trust the knife.

Share the love (the fiber. the antioxidants and the hidden veggies)

Quit yer bitchin

Ok... ok... a little self-pity never really hurt anyone, did it?

Anyway, fab weekend.

I stayed at my grandmother's who is out of town in ALASKA.
On a CRUISE.
With her BOYFRIEND.
She's 83~
Good for her.

*shakes head sagely*

Anyway, stayed there all weekend.

Went to the TIffin Flea Market...
1. NASCAR
2. Jesus
3. The War

o, and a beautifully felted cloche for winter wear.

But mostly NASCAR.

Spent the next day at my cousin's pool sunning and swimming and drinking Brandy Alexanders
with cousin K and her friend T who happened to have lived in my 'hood.

More sitting outside, but overlooking the Huron River at night.

Then more pool time the next day with a turkey smoked by daddy-o.
Everyone brought starches... with cheese... flavored with bacon...
It was like the Fourth all over again.

Interspersed weekend with biking, hiking, planting and picking... and a little wool-gathering.
Not to mention pushing a 1920s tractor out of a rut and into a barn...

I brought back 3 zucchinis as big as all outdoors from Nana's garden.

From one I have made:
Zucchini pumpkin bread - 1 loaf, 6 muffins
Chocolate zucchini pumpkin bread, 1 loaf, 3 mini loaves
12 zucchini feta latkes.

I have 2 more... any thoughts?

They are HUGE so not very good for raw use....

I may simply make loaf after loaf and freeze.
I think the chocolate will be good (it's baking now... yum...)

What a great way to end the summer.

Up next.. what to do with apples, pears and chestnuts....?