Sunday, December 15, 2019
Move the damn TMT already
I like science. I LOVE science! I'm a science geek. Science! Science! Science! But, more importantly, I was born in a truly remarkable place - Hawai'i, and I am grateful. If there is one thing I have learned in my 48 years on this planet, it is that Hawai'i is incredibly unique. Because the land we stand on is sacred. So, if Hawaiians don't want the TMT on their land, don't put the fucking telescope on their fucking land. It doesn't matter if there are "already telescopes there". That argument carries the same weight as "well, someone already dumped toxic waste in the ocean so we can too". Listen to people justifying this. It's not your land. The land belongs to Hawaiians. And for future reference, if anyone tells you something is racist, sexist, xenophobic, homophobic, antithetical to their culture, etc., you may want to listen. Because it probably is.
Damn Redneck - Happy Father's Day!
Dad, we agree on NOTHING. Food (I've been a veg for 34 years - you love to eat tasty animals and tell me at every meal you think I am a freak), politics (let's just say I'm to the left of Trotsky and you are to the right of Patrick Buchanan), lifestyle (I celebrate difference and liberte'!, you think my people are weirdos), government (you think people should pull themselves up by their own boot straps and I think that would be swell if the people have boots, and food, and housing, and healthcare and child care and the proverbial boot-strap from which to pull). But we agree on a few things: Johnny Cash, spirited debate, pie, creative home repair solutions, public education, La Mariana, patriotism (in strikingly different formats), and mutual respect. As you have said many times, "I ain't going to change your opinion and you ain't gonna change mine. But I love you anyway." And I'm grateful I know how to change a tire, change my oil, replace a lock, fix a water leak, rewire a circuit, build a fire, shoot a gun, figure out how to make a meal when there is "month left at the end of the money", balance a checkbook, repaint a room, clear a drain, drive a stick shift, and yes, fly a plane. Love you too, you damn redneck.
Marcia Rueff, the Writer
It's been 14 years since she left. I can't say I blame her. It was pretty rough at times. The last few years were not any fun. But, I know she still found some humor and love, as she was apt to do where ever she went. And she went everywhere - and usually took me with her. When we weren't traveling abroad, we would drive or take the train or bus across the US on vacations to see historical sites. We weren't rich, she just loved to travel and she instilled that in me (but Greyhound still sucks). She was a nerd. A grammar nerd. A book nerd. A gamer - Cribbage, Gin Rummy, Poker, Bridge. She was a writer, an executive, a model, a single mom, an intellectual, a rebel and an occasional complete disaster. She nourished and allowed me be me - even though that was an occasional complete disaster. We played word games on every trip, did puzzles, wrote stories, talked to strangers, hitchhiked, slept on couches. She taught me to experience the world as I think it should be experienced - through the careless, furious, YOLO, curious and selfless love of people and places of whom/which we were taught to be wary but should actually embrace. I'm grateful. I literally could not have existed without you. See you on the other side - but not for a while. I'm still traveling.
My husband is cute
Happy Valentine's Day!
I didn't get married for the first time until I was 44. I had a number of prerequisites that had to be met. Plus, if I would have married in my 20's, it would have been to an unemployed drummer - not that there is anything wrong with that....
Be really, really smart
Have a great sense of humor and laugh at me (and yourself) frequently and loudly
Really like cats
Let me live my own life while he (or she or they) live theirs - I'm not looking to marry myself
Share equally (or more) in the mundane side of running a household
Accept my kooky, obnoxious, loud, annoying friends
Accept my kooky, obnoxious habits (haven't washed my lucky coffee cup in 17 years and it still works!)
Assist in my ongoing rescues of people and animals (look! a free cat!!)
Have OUTSTANDING taste in music
Give me some space for writing
Don't take it personally when I travel on my own
Understand the intricacies of cleaning a cat box well
Make epic grilled cheese
Possibly, try to be foreign and super good-looking
Don't treat me like a delicate flower, baby or child - if you do, I will cut you
Love Luna, Lani-Mew and Mojo-Jojo as if they were own our own fur and claw
Don't be on Facebook so I can talk smack about you
Be my best friend
I didn't get married for the first time until I was 44. I had a number of prerequisites that had to be met. Plus, if I would have married in my 20's, it would have been to an unemployed drummer - not that there is anything wrong with that....
Be really, really smart
Have a great sense of humor and laugh at me (and yourself) frequently and loudly
Really like cats
Let me live my own life while he (or she or they) live theirs - I'm not looking to marry myself
Share equally (or more) in the mundane side of running a household
Accept my kooky, obnoxious, loud, annoying friends
Accept my kooky, obnoxious habits (haven't washed my lucky coffee cup in 17 years and it still works!)
Assist in my ongoing rescues of people and animals (look! a free cat!!)
Have OUTSTANDING taste in music
Give me some space for writing
Don't take it personally when I travel on my own
Understand the intricacies of cleaning a cat box well
Make epic grilled cheese
Possibly, try to be foreign and super good-looking
Don't treat me like a delicate flower, baby or child - if you do, I will cut you
Love Luna, Lani-Mew and Mojo-Jojo as if they were own our own fur and claw
Don't be on Facebook so I can talk smack about you
Be my best friend
Well, Chris, you checked all the boxes! Sorry, bro. Happy Valentines Day!
Now, put your dishes in the fucking dishwasher. Fou toi les dishwashe'!
Love you.
Shoe Island
If anyone is a fan of the children's book "Frederick the Mouse", this one is for you. The Legend of Shoe Island. My folks got divorced when I was pretty young, like 1974. I spent vacations and summers with my dad. He likes getting things for free - clothing, food, cars, boats.... So he found this sailboat, abandoned by the side of Farrington Highway "in really good shape!". We took it home and "fixed" it. Which means we duct-taped some styrofoam to the holes in the bottom, to make it more floatey-like. Every Saturday, we would go out for a boat ride. When we got stuck in the middle of Honolulu Harbor and needed a tow, the Coast Guard was generally there to tow us in. This was after the cut-out jars of "bug juice" failed to heed the water-in-to-water-out desire of the captain. When we did successfully set sail, it sucked. It meant we were going to Shoe Island. This was a crescent sandbar in Honolulu Harbor that collected all the lost slippahs of the world and gave me my "new" shoes for the year. We would anchor at SI and make our way to the beach. After warm mayo, American Cheese and relish sandwiches, we (I) would be given a mask and a paint scraper to clear the barnacles from under the boat by swimming under it. This was NOT fun. I cut my hand every time and likely got PCBs squished into my body. I was like 7. Then, we would walk along the shoreline and try to find matching slippers - a blue women's size 9 with a black men's size 12 that were roughly the same color were considered a "perfect match" and were then cut down to fit my 7 year old feet with some old pinking shears. I had several pairs of these after an outing - new shoes! If we were lucky, we got towed back to the harbor or bailed the thing out as if our lives depended on it (they did). I wound up just being happy barefoot (and still am - socks are weird) because shlepping around in slippers made for adults was even more awkward than I was already. Am already. Like I need help being awkward. As weird and as WTF as these stories are, I love to tell them because they are unflattering. And awkward. And very human. Just like us. I hate Shoe Island, love my dad.
Preamble
Preamble from memory, commentary by a fine public education.
WE the People (not they, the oligarchs)
In order to form a more perfect union (I'm pretty sure we can do better)
Establish justice (social, racial, gender and economic justice)
Ensure domestic tranquility (I also enjoy chilling at home with my cats)
Provide for the common defense (defense of human rights and free speech)
Promote the general welfare (food, housing, opportunity, education, health care – you know, welfare! It’s right in there!)
Secure the blessings of liberty (the exercise of natural human rights that do not harm others - liberté, égalité, fraternité)
For ourselves and our posterity (children in cages is not a good start, also, stay out of my “area”)
Do ordain, and establish this Constitution (and please quit screwing with it and buying off Supreme Court Justices - that is plain tacky)
For the United States of America (I care, do U?)
In order to form a more perfect union (I'm pretty sure we can do better)
Establish justice (social, racial, gender and economic justice)
Ensure domestic tranquility (I also enjoy chilling at home with my cats)
Provide for the common defense (defense of human rights and free speech)
Promote the general welfare (food, housing, opportunity, education, health care – you know, welfare! It’s right in there!)
Secure the blessings of liberty (the exercise of natural human rights that do not harm others - liberté, égalité, fraternité)
For ourselves and our posterity (children in cages is not a good start, also, stay out of my “area”)
Do ordain, and establish this Constitution (and please quit screwing with it and buying off Supreme Court Justices - that is plain tacky)
For the United States of America (I care, do U?)
47 things I love about YOU
47 Things I love About YOU! In honor of my birthday, I want to honor you – thank you for being my friend! Also, I bought a new car. Anyone looking for a 2000 Jeep? Good price, I swear it works!
1. You are all ridiculously attractive. Seriously. I didn’t pick you for that, but I’m not going to say the eye candy isn’t nice.
2. You are all opinionated.
3. Some of you have terrible opinions.
4. That’s OK, I probably do in your eyes too.
5. You are cool about us agreeing to disagree.
6. Thank you for being willing to be wrong
7. Sometimes you are not, and I respect that as long as it is civil or really funny.
8. If I’m being a real asshole, you call me out.
9. Thank you for telling me the truth
10. Many of you are incredibly funny – like stand-up funny. I could make jokes with you guys for days. Years. Can we retire and form the Sarcastic Feminists of America?
11. Thank you for not holding my unchangeable past against me
12. I’ve known most of you at least 10 years – colleagues, new friends, reconnected family, former lovers.
13. Thank you for meeting me halfway
14. 15+ years for my Burners.
15. Thank you for being there through good times and bad
16. 20+ years for my ravers. We were on Friendster together! We are old.
17. Thank you for not acting, judging, or treating me like you know me better than I know myself
18. 25 years for my first friends in Seattle.
19. Thank you for making so many ordinary moments, extraordinary
20. A lot of amazing people we lost in the rave scene. Too many to list, they all still hurt very deeply – shout out to my people on the other side.
21. 30+ years for my Kaiser ’89 Cougars! I sincerely love you guys.
22. Thank you for all the little things you did that make a big difference
23. 35+ years for the ladies that read my very soul – I can go years without talking to you and you know me so well you can finish my sentences still.
24. Thank you for always giving me the extra push I need
25. 45ish years for my family.
26. Thank you for sincerely loving me
27. I actually like my family.
28. Thank you for facing problems with me
29. Thank you for believing in me
30. They are not only incredibly attractive, but also pretty funny and scary smart.
31. Bunch of lawyers on family retainer, should I ever need legal services……
32. Random people that wandered into my life that I know will be connected to me forever – you guys are some kind of fairy witches that show up when things are pretty kooky, save me from myself and float away. I don’t know how to thank you, I’m not sure what you are, but I love you.
33. Some random chick I met on the internet because we share the same name and would up being the best friend I haven’t met – yet. I can’t wait to meet you!!!!!
34. My former boss-lady that is responsible for making me into a really good HR person (the history and soul of the company IS the employees) and launching me into an amazing career (and helping me through some really rough times)
35. Thank you for encouraging me when I stumble
36. Thank you for making me feel comfortable in my skin
37. Thank you to my amazing HR peeps – you kept me sane.
38. You live all over the world – I met you while traveling or you are a fellow traveler at heart.
39. Thank you for being patient and forgiving when I step on your toes culturally
40. You have interesting jobs – truck driver to pilot to waitress to preacher to sex worker to CEO to drug dealer to student to teacher to person on disability to actor to trustafarian to musician to professor to “anything to get by” to journalist to parent. As a person that thinks about work and working for a living, I value ALL of your professions and the work you do.
41. Thank you for talking things out with me
42. Thank you for being compassionate
43. Thank you for making time for me
44. We actually lived together – and you survived – as did our friendship.
45. Thank you for knowing that I can’t always be strong
46. Thank you for knowing when something is wrong with me
47. And most of all, thank you for being YOU
1. You are all ridiculously attractive. Seriously. I didn’t pick you for that, but I’m not going to say the eye candy isn’t nice.
2. You are all opinionated.
3. Some of you have terrible opinions.
4. That’s OK, I probably do in your eyes too.
5. You are cool about us agreeing to disagree.
6. Thank you for being willing to be wrong
7. Sometimes you are not, and I respect that as long as it is civil or really funny.
8. If I’m being a real asshole, you call me out.
9. Thank you for telling me the truth
10. Many of you are incredibly funny – like stand-up funny. I could make jokes with you guys for days. Years. Can we retire and form the Sarcastic Feminists of America?
11. Thank you for not holding my unchangeable past against me
12. I’ve known most of you at least 10 years – colleagues, new friends, reconnected family, former lovers.
13. Thank you for meeting me halfway
14. 15+ years for my Burners.
15. Thank you for being there through good times and bad
16. 20+ years for my ravers. We were on Friendster together! We are old.
17. Thank you for not acting, judging, or treating me like you know me better than I know myself
18. 25 years for my first friends in Seattle.
19. Thank you for making so many ordinary moments, extraordinary
20. A lot of amazing people we lost in the rave scene. Too many to list, they all still hurt very deeply – shout out to my people on the other side.
21. 30+ years for my Kaiser ’89 Cougars! I sincerely love you guys.
22. Thank you for all the little things you did that make a big difference
23. 35+ years for the ladies that read my very soul – I can go years without talking to you and you know me so well you can finish my sentences still.
24. Thank you for always giving me the extra push I need
25. 45ish years for my family.
26. Thank you for sincerely loving me
27. I actually like my family.
28. Thank you for facing problems with me
29. Thank you for believing in me
30. They are not only incredibly attractive, but also pretty funny and scary smart.
31. Bunch of lawyers on family retainer, should I ever need legal services……
32. Random people that wandered into my life that I know will be connected to me forever – you guys are some kind of fairy witches that show up when things are pretty kooky, save me from myself and float away. I don’t know how to thank you, I’m not sure what you are, but I love you.
33. Some random chick I met on the internet because we share the same name and would up being the best friend I haven’t met – yet. I can’t wait to meet you!!!!!
34. My former boss-lady that is responsible for making me into a really good HR person (the history and soul of the company IS the employees) and launching me into an amazing career (and helping me through some really rough times)
35. Thank you for encouraging me when I stumble
36. Thank you for making me feel comfortable in my skin
37. Thank you to my amazing HR peeps – you kept me sane.
38. You live all over the world – I met you while traveling or you are a fellow traveler at heart.
39. Thank you for being patient and forgiving when I step on your toes culturally
40. You have interesting jobs – truck driver to pilot to waitress to preacher to sex worker to CEO to drug dealer to student to teacher to person on disability to actor to trustafarian to musician to professor to “anything to get by” to journalist to parent. As a person that thinks about work and working for a living, I value ALL of your professions and the work you do.
41. Thank you for talking things out with me
42. Thank you for being compassionate
43. Thank you for making time for me
44. We actually lived together – and you survived – as did our friendship.
45. Thank you for knowing that I can’t always be strong
46. Thank you for knowing when something is wrong with me
47. And most of all, thank you for being YOU
About the false alarm
Meanwhile, in Hawai'i.......I hadn't been able to reach my dad at all yesterday and was worried he had a heart attack or thought it was real and got out his Marine Officer dude outfit and a stick and was looking for commies (he was a fighter pilot during the Cuban Missile Crisis and I never know if he is going to flash back).
The answering machine is apparently broken and they never answer their cell phone, so by last night, I was getting worried. But, he actually had the best day of his life.
Their cell phone is from the last century (really), so they didn't know anything until around 11 when they were being carted around the Waialae Golf Club at the Sony Open.
OK, we aren't allowed to use hot water, buy anything new that isn't food (that is also frowned upon), throw anything away, etc. because my dad is so cheap. Somehow, he lucked into the Open with two free tickets. They always just take the bus down and stand outside by the fence and watch through that. Somehow, he heard someone on the bus say if you had your military ID, you could get in free.
They walk around to the military tent and he pulls out his original ID which is from 1958 or 1959, at least 1/3 is missing, but they comp him and my stepmom. Some people felt sorry for them (they do look pretty bad - because they won't buy anything new - mismatched slippers, holes in their pants, home-cut hair) and carted them over to the VIP military tent. They got free hamburgers, chili rice and beer.
Of course, they try to put what they can't finish in Kathy's purse to take home. On the bus. Someone feels sorry for them and packs them food to go. They watch the game, decide to head home.
Same thing - someone sees them shuffling on the golf course with their ripped up clothes, leaky to-go food, and, not only drives them back, but puts them on a private shuttle to catch the bus home. So while everyone was terrified for their families, calling their loved ones, etc., he sauntered through a golf tournament free of charge, got free beer, at least a week's worth of food AND got carted around like some celebrity.
We could have a reality show called Roach Dynasty or Staple This House (before it falls over) or Cr@p My Dad Tries to Sell on Craigslist, but the market cap would be too small. Anyway, I am extremely happy he got free stuff because that makes him happy, and I am also extremely happy to be making fun of my dad on FB instead of telling you another Air BnB story. Lady this week was lovely - she got me flowers when she heard about our previous guests. Humans.
The answering machine is apparently broken and they never answer their cell phone, so by last night, I was getting worried. But, he actually had the best day of his life.
Their cell phone is from the last century (really), so they didn't know anything until around 11 when they were being carted around the Waialae Golf Club at the Sony Open.
OK, we aren't allowed to use hot water, buy anything new that isn't food (that is also frowned upon), throw anything away, etc. because my dad is so cheap. Somehow, he lucked into the Open with two free tickets. They always just take the bus down and stand outside by the fence and watch through that. Somehow, he heard someone on the bus say if you had your military ID, you could get in free.
They walk around to the military tent and he pulls out his original ID which is from 1958 or 1959, at least 1/3 is missing, but they comp him and my stepmom. Some people felt sorry for them (they do look pretty bad - because they won't buy anything new - mismatched slippers, holes in their pants, home-cut hair) and carted them over to the VIP military tent. They got free hamburgers, chili rice and beer.
Of course, they try to put what they can't finish in Kathy's purse to take home. On the bus. Someone feels sorry for them and packs them food to go. They watch the game, decide to head home.
Same thing - someone sees them shuffling on the golf course with their ripped up clothes, leaky to-go food, and, not only drives them back, but puts them on a private shuttle to catch the bus home. So while everyone was terrified for their families, calling their loved ones, etc., he sauntered through a golf tournament free of charge, got free beer, at least a week's worth of food AND got carted around like some celebrity.
We could have a reality show called Roach Dynasty or Staple This House (before it falls over) or Cr@p My Dad Tries to Sell on Craigslist, but the market cap would be too small. Anyway, I am extremely happy he got free stuff because that makes him happy, and I am also extremely happy to be making fun of my dad on FB instead of telling you another Air BnB story. Lady this week was lovely - she got me flowers when she heard about our previous guests. Humans.
Labor Day 2017
I'm not independently wealthy, which means I have to work for a living.
On this Labor Day, I would like thank those unsung heroes that do the work, the labor, that allows us to thrive. WOMEN. We know (there is no logical argument or proof otherwise) are paid less than men by about 25%. Race, education, region, industry - all play into this as well. In addition to being paid less for similar work, we also have to overwhelmingly manage the family - that would cost about $60,000 per year on child care, cleaning, meal prep, etc. if we were paying someone else. Not to mention the psychological labor of planning everything from Thanksgiving, to a household move to a home fix-it project, to a vacation.
IMMIGRANTS. We know immigrants are paid less, oftentimes below the minimum wage. Oftentimes in slave-like conditions. To do what you and me don't want to do - slaughter the cows and chickens, take care of our elderly, work outside in 90+ degree heat to maintain the yard, the pool, the kids, the construction, and the kitchens of the USA.
CHILDREN. Children work in agriculture, the sex trade, manufacturing. In 2017, 12 year olds are allowed to work 12 hour days in tobacco fields.
PRISONERS. Prisoners make much of your store-bought food. They infuse the asparagus in the water we buy for $7 at Whole Foods (McDonalds, Starbucks, Koch). They make your clothes (Walmart), answer your cell phone questions (AT&T). Harvest your food - for $2 per day. Think on that.
I'm fortunate to live in a state with strong labor protections, and I do my best to uphold them and try to make the workplace creative, fun, welcoming. But I never forget those of us that make it possible to live and work as respected and valued human beings.
On this Labor Day, I would like thank those unsung heroes that do the work, the labor, that allows us to thrive. WOMEN. We know (there is no logical argument or proof otherwise) are paid less than men by about 25%. Race, education, region, industry - all play into this as well. In addition to being paid less for similar work, we also have to overwhelmingly manage the family - that would cost about $60,000 per year on child care, cleaning, meal prep, etc. if we were paying someone else. Not to mention the psychological labor of planning everything from Thanksgiving, to a household move to a home fix-it project, to a vacation.
IMMIGRANTS. We know immigrants are paid less, oftentimes below the minimum wage. Oftentimes in slave-like conditions. To do what you and me don't want to do - slaughter the cows and chickens, take care of our elderly, work outside in 90+ degree heat to maintain the yard, the pool, the kids, the construction, and the kitchens of the USA.
CHILDREN. Children work in agriculture, the sex trade, manufacturing. In 2017, 12 year olds are allowed to work 12 hour days in tobacco fields.
PRISONERS. Prisoners make much of your store-bought food. They infuse the asparagus in the water we buy for $7 at Whole Foods (McDonalds, Starbucks, Koch). They make your clothes (Walmart), answer your cell phone questions (AT&T). Harvest your food - for $2 per day. Think on that.
I'm fortunate to live in a state with strong labor protections, and I do my best to uphold them and try to make the workplace creative, fun, welcoming. But I never forget those of us that make it possible to live and work as respected and valued human beings.
Camping with Otters
Went camping. Left at 8 a.m. Three hour ferry wait. Get to campsite at 4 p.m. Tent ripped 4:15 p.m. Air mattress collapsed at 2 a.m.. I woke up partially impaled on a Madrona at 3 a.m. Chipmunk attacked at 5 a.m. Were camped in the all unhappy-infant section who were being "looked after" by drunk Uncle Billy from 5 p.m. to 10 a.m. Fire failed to light. Then consumed (entirely - like ashes, food go bye bye) our food after Uncle Billy "loaned" us some lighter fluid and made fire arcs with my lighter and bug spray. Offers me a bag of fire Cheetos at 7 a.m. that I consume while stitching up my leg and railing Benadryl. However, coming home on the ferry, I see a guy with a t-shirt that said, "I have mixed drinks about feelings". I immediately proposed.
46
Wisdom from Jen - how to be 46 and still be cool (you are welcome)
1. Be 46
2. Be cool
3. Use a lot of terms you don't understand like "bye, Felicia!"
4. Invest in a yurt-centered trailer park - in Nova Scotia
5. Try to have at least half of your teeth
6. Date Bill Nye (I'm not dating Bill Nye)
7. Get a jet ski
8. Show up in Monaco with a jet ski and a yurt, DO NOT APOLOGIZE. EVER.
9. Swear all day - very loudly
10. Appreciate your friends - even the annoying ones
11. YOU picked them, YOU deal with it
12. Fine!
13. Start a podcast on NPR (no one will listen)
14. Attempt to show off all your real teeth in SnapChat
15. Delete SnapChat because it doesn't make any sense
16. Find old GoPro and do Xtreme snowboarding and photoshop into coolness
17. Marry your best friend
18. Accept that shit will just start to fall off your body
19. Invest in good insurance
20. Care about politics and justice in such a way that others are slightly in awe/terrified
21. I was just.....oh crap! My knee fell off. Is that a tooth? WTF?
22. Did I mention insurance?
23. Have vivid dreams of Paul Ryan crying before he goes to bed at night. Don't worry, he hasn't slept in 22 years.
24. Wear age-inappropriate clothes and walk by Forever 21 eating a Twinkie
25. Every day, give MORE than you take. Much, much more.
26. Be prepared to have no one give a shit
27. Discover the rumors about yourself - waay better than reality
28. Try to make real life match rumors
29. Opt for the rumors
30. Call a snarky teenager out in public if they are being mean
31. Travel everywhere. Anywhere.
32. Appreciate your totally insane family
33. They think you are batshit crazy too
34. See EVERY show
35. Twice
36. Date a drummer at least once
37. Break up with the drummer
38. Start your own band
39. Write your own book
40. Start your own religion
41. Leave it
42. Start to see the patterns in life and embrace their logic
43. Let some friends go - they were there when you needed them and it is OK to release them
44. Swim. Oh my God, swim! And run! Jump. You will get hurt now because you are old - whatever
45. Accept you, totally imperfect you
46. Give back more than you take
1. Be 46
2. Be cool
3. Use a lot of terms you don't understand like "bye, Felicia!"
4. Invest in a yurt-centered trailer park - in Nova Scotia
5. Try to have at least half of your teeth
6. Date Bill Nye (I'm not dating Bill Nye)
7. Get a jet ski
8. Show up in Monaco with a jet ski and a yurt, DO NOT APOLOGIZE. EVER.
9. Swear all day - very loudly
10. Appreciate your friends - even the annoying ones
11. YOU picked them, YOU deal with it
12. Fine!
13. Start a podcast on NPR (no one will listen)
14. Attempt to show off all your real teeth in SnapChat
15. Delete SnapChat because it doesn't make any sense
16. Find old GoPro and do Xtreme snowboarding and photoshop into coolness
17. Marry your best friend
18. Accept that shit will just start to fall off your body
19. Invest in good insurance
20. Care about politics and justice in such a way that others are slightly in awe/terrified
21. I was just.....oh crap! My knee fell off. Is that a tooth? WTF?
22. Did I mention insurance?
23. Have vivid dreams of Paul Ryan crying before he goes to bed at night. Don't worry, he hasn't slept in 22 years.
24. Wear age-inappropriate clothes and walk by Forever 21 eating a Twinkie
25. Every day, give MORE than you take. Much, much more.
26. Be prepared to have no one give a shit
27. Discover the rumors about yourself - waay better than reality
28. Try to make real life match rumors
29. Opt for the rumors
30. Call a snarky teenager out in public if they are being mean
31. Travel everywhere. Anywhere.
32. Appreciate your totally insane family
33. They think you are batshit crazy too
34. See EVERY show
35. Twice
36. Date a drummer at least once
37. Break up with the drummer
38. Start your own band
39. Write your own book
40. Start your own religion
41. Leave it
42. Start to see the patterns in life and embrace their logic
43. Let some friends go - they were there when you needed them and it is OK to release them
44. Swim. Oh my God, swim! And run! Jump. You will get hurt now because you are old - whatever
45. Accept you, totally imperfect you
46. Give back more than you take
Free shit on Haili Road
Tonight, I stole the wheelchair from my 103 year old neighbor in Hawaii. She raised me, as well as all the kids on the block. She is my Auntie Grace and I took her wheelchair so I could transport a bunch of mattresses she was going to toss out on bulk pick up. Why did I do this? The mattresses were free! Haven't you been paying attention? I am now my dad. Shit.
Get out more - Womxns March
A lot of days, I get really annoyed with Seattle.
The gentrification, insane housing prices, armies of Amazon employees that hog the sidewalk in their $200 jeans, destruction of music venues, loss of egalitarian places like the Hurricane...
But some days, I fall in love with it all over again. Like today. Marching in solidarity with 125,000 of my closest friends under an almost sunny sky in January.
Families, women, men, big union guys from the SEIU dressed entirely in pink. People singing, hugging strangers, being irreverent, dancing badly and walking peacefully together for a million different reasons from a million different points of view.
Shout out to the Seattle I fell in love with 22 years ago - you are still here.
You smelly, weird-haired, tattooed, pierced, musicians, freaks, anarchists, queers, artists, feminists, radicals, writers, nerds, outcasts....
WE are all still here. And, apparently, we need to get out more.
The gentrification, insane housing prices, armies of Amazon employees that hog the sidewalk in their $200 jeans, destruction of music venues, loss of egalitarian places like the Hurricane...
But some days, I fall in love with it all over again. Like today. Marching in solidarity with 125,000 of my closest friends under an almost sunny sky in January.
Families, women, men, big union guys from the SEIU dressed entirely in pink. People singing, hugging strangers, being irreverent, dancing badly and walking peacefully together for a million different reasons from a million different points of view.
Shout out to the Seattle I fell in love with 22 years ago - you are still here.
You smelly, weird-haired, tattooed, pierced, musicians, freaks, anarchists, queers, artists, feminists, radicals, writers, nerds, outcasts....
WE are all still here. And, apparently, we need to get out more.
Election - I'm Going To Run
I went running last night for the first time in five years.
Running in loafers and jeans - away from the police, on the freeway. And I feel oddly alive. Strangely alive.
Went outside last night to a huge line of cars rerouted to my street and at least 5 helicopters overhead and at least 12 cop cars because protesters were trying to shut down I5. I heard the drums. I smelled the smoke bombs, I saw the Twitter feeds, so I put on my jeans and a pair of loafers so I could see what was going on.
I RAN to the freeway overpass I heard they were blocking, saw nothing, adjusted my feed and followed the sirens to 65th. I couldn't figure out where they were. but I wanted to be in. Ran up the off ramp. onto I5 and stayed behind the barricades - nothing. I could hear it, I could sense it, but I couldn't find it. I ran to the other on ramp - nothing. I ran back - nothing.
I was fully prepared to be your cub reporter on the scene, but I never saw another human that wasn't in blue. My actions were dangerous and stupid, but, I loved it. I ran like I had purpose. Tuesday night, I was in shock. I was sad and broken. And I still am, but I have this weird drive to do something about this.
And it isn't what you think. I have learned some hard lessons. I have been dismissive of working class issues. I have, frankly, been a dick. And I pride myself on being non-biased and accepting. I have openly mocked people's beliefs, and that is not OK or even who I am.
And I am, sincerely, sorry. I am sorry I disregarded your points of view and failed to see where you are coming from, and utterly failed to realize my own culpability in this. This opened up my eyes and caused me some serious reflection as a friend, relative, and fellow citizen.
I don't like the guy,l don't like what came out of his mouth, I hate his voice, I can't stand his face, I hate what he appears to believe about people I love and even am. But the people have spoken and they need to be heard.
That is the deal. It has happened before and we put on our adult panties and addressed the issues. No change or growth comes without a painful learning experience. And this was mine. Was ours. And before we have to learn anything else the hard way, I have to clean up my own house, my own shit. And I do that with absolute honesty and self reflection as I prepare for the next opportunity to move us, honestly, forward.
Keith Ellison and Tulsi Gabbard - I have started the PAC. We are building the case. And I packed my clothes for tomorrow - I am going to run. Just like a mile. But I am going to run.
Running in loafers and jeans - away from the police, on the freeway. And I feel oddly alive. Strangely alive.
Went outside last night to a huge line of cars rerouted to my street and at least 5 helicopters overhead and at least 12 cop cars because protesters were trying to shut down I5. I heard the drums. I smelled the smoke bombs, I saw the Twitter feeds, so I put on my jeans and a pair of loafers so I could see what was going on.
I RAN to the freeway overpass I heard they were blocking, saw nothing, adjusted my feed and followed the sirens to 65th. I couldn't figure out where they were. but I wanted to be in. Ran up the off ramp. onto I5 and stayed behind the barricades - nothing. I could hear it, I could sense it, but I couldn't find it. I ran to the other on ramp - nothing. I ran back - nothing.
I was fully prepared to be your cub reporter on the scene, but I never saw another human that wasn't in blue. My actions were dangerous and stupid, but, I loved it. I ran like I had purpose. Tuesday night, I was in shock. I was sad and broken. And I still am, but I have this weird drive to do something about this.
And it isn't what you think. I have learned some hard lessons. I have been dismissive of working class issues. I have, frankly, been a dick. And I pride myself on being non-biased and accepting. I have openly mocked people's beliefs, and that is not OK or even who I am.
And I am, sincerely, sorry. I am sorry I disregarded your points of view and failed to see where you are coming from, and utterly failed to realize my own culpability in this. This opened up my eyes and caused me some serious reflection as a friend, relative, and fellow citizen.
I don't like the guy,l don't like what came out of his mouth, I hate his voice, I can't stand his face, I hate what he appears to believe about people I love and even am. But the people have spoken and they need to be heard.
That is the deal. It has happened before and we put on our adult panties and addressed the issues. No change or growth comes without a painful learning experience. And this was mine. Was ours. And before we have to learn anything else the hard way, I have to clean up my own house, my own shit. And I do that with absolute honesty and self reflection as I prepare for the next opportunity to move us, honestly, forward.
Keith Ellison and Tulsi Gabbard - I have started the PAC. We are building the case. And I packed my clothes for tomorrow - I am going to run. Just like a mile. But I am going to run.
Airport Fun with Dad (and blind husband)
Welcome to "I could not make this stuff up!" 125th edition.
Picked up the folks Tuesday night at SeaTac from Honolulu - so excited to see them after nearly a year. Had to stay home from work that day for serious tummy issues, still not feeling so great, but figure it won't take very long.
Get to the airport, wait in cell phone lot, no call. Check flight status - already arrived. Hmm, weird. Go to arrivals and wait in the car.
Unfortunately, my step mom lost her purse with the only cell phone between the two of them. I got a call from the security phone letting me know they were looking for it. OK, no prob. I will just go get their bags and wait in pick up. Got bags. Waiting another 30 minutes, tell Chris to sit in the car in the driver's side, took my phone, left my purse and wallet. Waiting, walking around another 45 minutes - no parents. I call security and ask to have them paged.
Meanwhile, my cell rings - Chris is in a panic. The airport cops are yelling at him to move the car. Since he doesn't have a license and never learned to drive, this is a problem. I tell him I will be right out. I go out - no car, no Chris.
At this point I am getting pissed. I walk over to an officer, and yell, "where is my husband and my car? He can't drive and is legally blind! Why can't you people chill out?" Officer looks at me and says, "what kind of car? License number?" I reply, "never mind, forget it, thanks!" and run back in.
Chris calls, "I am down at the end of the airport". I run down, no Chris, no car. No parents. Shit. Go back inside. Get another call, "honey, I am on the freeway, I don't know where, the cops were yelling at me, so I took off". Shit. He can't drive, my car is gone, he is lost, I have no money. Tell him to pull over NOW, put on hazards and wait. Go back to look for parents. Find parents. No purse. Security tells us to go to the baggage claim, baggage claim says ticket counter, ticket counter says lost and found. Closed. Ticket counter says police. Go back to police, hope I am not recognized. Purse has been found! Someone has to go back through security with ID to get it. All IDs are in lost purse, in lost car or with lost husband. Dad is finally allowed to go back escorted by security.
Takes 45 minutes on what should have been a 5 minute journey. Dad really likes security lady and is telling her all about Hawaii. He doesn't want to leave because she is so nice (and a total hottie). By now, it has been 3 hours. Chris is somewhere in Des Moines on the highway with my car and money on the side of the road with the hazzards on. For 3 hours. Wait, there is more!
Decide the only way to find Chris is via GPS while in a taxi with a driver that isn't real keen on this situation. Driver drives around the airport, freeway, airport again - finally find my car with the hazards on the side of the road. Shove obscene amounts of money in cab driver's hand. Drive home at 85 mph just daring someone to stop me. The end.
Air BnB Guy Restores My Faith in Humanity
So, Air BnB has restored my faith in humanity - really.
Recently divorced white guy from rural Minnesota decided to take his kids on a trip to Seattle to bond. Poor guy - daughter is 12 and son is 14 - they are pretty much destined to hate him for a few years. He had been emailing me for months - worried about details, asking for recommendations, scared because he has never used Air BnB, worried about the safety of his kids.
I was getting annoyed, frankly. Dude, I am not a travel agency. Show up, sleep, take a shower, make some coffee and eat a granola bar and get on with your life.Try not to pound holes in my walls and leave dead rodents and dubious sex toys - I am a simple person.
They arrive, and at this point, I kind of have a vested interest in them having a good vacation - like I am worried about them. He was what he looked like - grizzled guy, my age, strong Minnesota accent, working class, gruff.
We spoke intermittently, I offered suggestions on places to eat, visit, talked to the kids a few times. I jokingly offered him a beer if he needed to get away from the kids and watch the news (we don't have a tv in the rental and he was jonesing hard).
He took me up on it Tuesday night. Knocked on the front door looking as much like a man that could use a drink as I have ever seen. We watched the news, I gave him a beer, then another. Chris was trying to sleep, so we went out on the patio to talk. We talked politics, gender issues, class, technology, society, family dynamics. He was sincerely worried his 12 year old daughter hated him. Maybe because it was 2 a.m. at this point, so I told him that she probably did and would get over it, but it was going to take a few years.
I had spent a few years in Minnesota with my mom for reasons related to my parents' divorce that I still don't entirely understand (NO ONE moves to Minnesota from Hawai'i without a very good reason - we had no family there, no connections, people had to wear shoes WITH socks - not my scene) and we talked about the old music scene.
\
We made Minnesota ties fast - both my mom and I are pretty social people. I actually met some of my best friends there and so did she (Deborah Healey). I remembered Paigey and Chrissie F and I going to shows in downtown and uptown, hanging out at Northern Lights record store, smoking cloves, getting into the 7th Street Entry and other music venues to see shows. We were 12. No one asked. Because a punker wearing braces with a shaved head, and anarchy sign in marker on her face smoking a clove looks a lot like an 18 year old, I guess.
Minnesota was hard for me, but I did get an intense appreciation for protest music. And causing mischief. And the people. So, Jason and I (our guest) had some heated conversation and some really cool insights.
I guess I was impressed when he said, several times, "Wait. I want to hear your perspective." I don't even say that often enough. Longest stay we have had - 7 days. No one died, no clear signs of property destruction - I am happy.
Today, as they were leaving, he confessed that he hasn't been on a plane since 9/11 and was terrified (they took the train here). He also told me he had filled the holes in the walls created by my other interesting guests, fixed the damn shower door (been broken for a year - so old, there are no parts), and washed "the linens". I almost cried. I asked the kids if things were better or worse after spending the week with their dad. They both said, "Better. A little better".
Dads are hard. I'm going to get bossed around by mine and expect a battle of wills when I insist on some changes after he recovers from surgery on his spine next month. It sure isn't going to be a relaxing vacation in Hawai'i, but for me, it never is. I am always grateful for thoughtful conversations and spirited debate. To have potentially seen a change in circumstance and belief is a freaking wet dream for me. To have a relative stranger, with whom I have almost nothing in common, show me that kindness was beyond touching.
Now, I am going to take a shower. Because I can finally close the damn door.
Recently divorced white guy from rural Minnesota decided to take his kids on a trip to Seattle to bond. Poor guy - daughter is 12 and son is 14 - they are pretty much destined to hate him for a few years. He had been emailing me for months - worried about details, asking for recommendations, scared because he has never used Air BnB, worried about the safety of his kids.
I was getting annoyed, frankly. Dude, I am not a travel agency. Show up, sleep, take a shower, make some coffee and eat a granola bar and get on with your life.Try not to pound holes in my walls and leave dead rodents and dubious sex toys - I am a simple person.
They arrive, and at this point, I kind of have a vested interest in them having a good vacation - like I am worried about them. He was what he looked like - grizzled guy, my age, strong Minnesota accent, working class, gruff.
We spoke intermittently, I offered suggestions on places to eat, visit, talked to the kids a few times. I jokingly offered him a beer if he needed to get away from the kids and watch the news (we don't have a tv in the rental and he was jonesing hard).
He took me up on it Tuesday night. Knocked on the front door looking as much like a man that could use a drink as I have ever seen. We watched the news, I gave him a beer, then another. Chris was trying to sleep, so we went out on the patio to talk. We talked politics, gender issues, class, technology, society, family dynamics. He was sincerely worried his 12 year old daughter hated him. Maybe because it was 2 a.m. at this point, so I told him that she probably did and would get over it, but it was going to take a few years.
I had spent a few years in Minnesota with my mom for reasons related to my parents' divorce that I still don't entirely understand (NO ONE moves to Minnesota from Hawai'i without a very good reason - we had no family there, no connections, people had to wear shoes WITH socks - not my scene) and we talked about the old music scene.
\
We made Minnesota ties fast - both my mom and I are pretty social people. I actually met some of my best friends there and so did she (Deborah Healey). I remembered Paigey and Chrissie F and I going to shows in downtown and uptown, hanging out at Northern Lights record store, smoking cloves, getting into the 7th Street Entry and other music venues to see shows. We were 12. No one asked. Because a punker wearing braces with a shaved head, and anarchy sign in marker on her face smoking a clove looks a lot like an 18 year old, I guess.
Minnesota was hard for me, but I did get an intense appreciation for protest music. And causing mischief. And the people. So, Jason and I (our guest) had some heated conversation and some really cool insights.
I guess I was impressed when he said, several times, "Wait. I want to hear your perspective." I don't even say that often enough. Longest stay we have had - 7 days. No one died, no clear signs of property destruction - I am happy.
Today, as they were leaving, he confessed that he hasn't been on a plane since 9/11 and was terrified (they took the train here). He also told me he had filled the holes in the walls created by my other interesting guests, fixed the damn shower door (been broken for a year - so old, there are no parts), and washed "the linens". I almost cried. I asked the kids if things were better or worse after spending the week with their dad. They both said, "Better. A little better".
Dads are hard. I'm going to get bossed around by mine and expect a battle of wills when I insist on some changes after he recovers from surgery on his spine next month. It sure isn't going to be a relaxing vacation in Hawai'i, but for me, it never is. I am always grateful for thoughtful conversations and spirited debate. To have potentially seen a change in circumstance and belief is a freaking wet dream for me. To have a relative stranger, with whom I have almost nothing in common, show me that kindness was beyond touching.
Now, I am going to take a shower. Because I can finally close the damn door.
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