yesterday was my birthday

and so i ponder.
besides immediate family (six homes represented) i never get cards.
except my cousin Rebecca. always from my cousin. she gets what i'm just now getting. being acknowldedged for your birthday is huge. it's your one day in a year when folks can say, "i'm glad you're alive," without it sounding super awkward. (okay. it still sounds awkward. but it's warranted.) it takes a bit of forethought and a stamp, but it's way worth the smile at the other end. did i say stamp? yes. because e-cards hardly qualify.
growing up there were something like 37 cousins' birthdays to contend with just on my mom's side. we gathered (wisely) only once a quarter lumping everyone's together. mine was always with Rachel (Rebecca's sister. perhaps ironically.) which was rad since our families were closest anyway. (this happens when your mothers are sisters.)

tim, rachel, rebecca, and me (incidentally after i cut my own bangs. i'm an artist.)

and also if you are awesome.

which is so very obvious from this picture of us in 1982 at the cabin. (sorry sisters. you were not yet.)  you can see our awesomeness clearly. sheer awesomeness. it's radiating off the screen even as you read this. such love. such affection. such a pout from a stong-willed only-child. who could that be...?

anyway, with birthdays three days apart, we had cakes together. opened gifts and cards together. then played with our presents together. hopefully the presents weren't lame. they rarely were. our uncles, aunts and grandparents were good gift-pickers. you can imagine why these gatherings went the way of the dinosaur. just think of the budgeting required to buy 37 gifts a year for snot-nosed children.

which brings me to my second point. why have birthday parties and cake become perfunctory obligations to be ignored? 

sadness.

just because we're adults? don't we enjoy cake just as much? even while feigning a weight-loss diet, do we not ditch it for birthday cake?

lame.
this culture needs a birthday revolution. let it start with me.
happy birthday Rachel! your card will be terribly late.

revelation vs. poultry

it cracks me up when people say, "God told me..." or "I received a word from the Lord," and then proceed to tell me something that can't be found in His word.
consider that "God will add to him the plagues described..." painful sores, bloody fish waters, third degree sunburn, gnawing of one's tongue in agony...
need i go on?
(thanks for that John.)
in the words of a wise man i know:
keep it to yourself.
"maybe you just ate bad chicken."

husqvarna... but not so chainsawy.

for those of you close to me, as in, close enough to hear me, you know my latest gripe has been mechanical. the brother sewing machine i have has angered me beyond retribution. the glitch in tension control is ridiculous. never has it worked right. and when i brought it to the certified technician or whatever, he was like, "get rid of it." the other lady was like, "you sew how much? with what kind of designer fabric? with what quality thread? uh, yeah. you have the wrong machine for sure."
great.
what do i sew with? i sew everyday. i can't just not have a machine. i will truly lose my mind. knitting is so not a summer sport. what will i do come june? (after cutting out 5 dress patterns, i actually started crocheting a dress in the interim.)
driving home monday i prayed with confidence that God would give me a machine. "i really want one. and i know You'll provide one for me. i have no doubt. cause You are hilariously generous like that." the question was when.
five minutes pass.
i walk into my home, and my husband hands me an envelope of cash.
that's pretty quick. told you He was hilarious.
so i shop around. hear some hilarious contrived sale's pitches. (my favorite was the one where the older lady told me that it was better to have metal housing. because even though it weighs as much as a couch, plastic is cheap. it breaks. didn't have the heart to tell her it was the machinery that counted. that and oh, did you know cops carry guns made of plastic? yeah.) basically i was to spend, according to one lady, "at least a thousand".
but that didn't jive with my internet research. i'm telling you man, you can NOT mess with gen x on that stuff. we are the informed customer. we see right through it.
so thanks to lyla, i get a machine that's usually $899 for under $500.
hilarious. simply hilarious.

excuse me while i read the manual for the next four hours... don't want to mess with the perfect precision that is swiss mechanics. 

more to come. i assure you.

voice log stardate 01172010

driving the 217 miles to my sisters new condo, i needed to relieve some stress accruing from the horrendous drive. yes. accruing. like debt in the form of an over-priced high interest government loan that they refuse allow consolidation on and thus grows with prime plus who-knows-what while on deferment due to lack of income... but more on that another time.

it was way too dangerous on I-80, so when i got to walnut creek (the home stretch) i hit record on my phone. the following is a transcript of that monologue. among other things, what to learn from this is... i need to pay attention to my tenses, and i use 'really' and 'actually' and 'and' too much in my speech.

unedited:

"alright, this is entitled diamonds are not forever. and it really only applies to the people who drive to the [dirty] bay area.

and i had to practice my bradley birthing method breathing in order to not cry after hydroplaning. and even though the diamond lane is right next to the divider, and i'd rather run into a concrete divider than another car, um... hydroplaning is like one of the most frightening experiences when you're going 70 miles an hour. especially on 680 were people are psychotic anyway and drive like a bunch of idiots.

there's a reason why people, especially on I-80, [the diamond lane is] completely abandoned. i'm like, 'why aren't people driving on this?'

oh and when everyone else is braking in front of you, you should go ahead and brake as well, cause it means there's two inches of standing water in the freeway.

so i'm very thankful for the angels of I-5, 505 and 680.

this is crazy. it's some of the worst stuff i've ever driven through. ever. visibility is so poor i can't even read the street signs. it's a really good thing i know this road and i've driven it hundreds of times.

it's not a good thing that i'm in a toyota corolla. i don't even know how old these tires are. i don't think it matters.

and i will... [unintelligible (even to me and it's my voice and i was there. lol.)]... and there is no way i'm getting back on this freeway. as soon as i recognize a sign taking back roads to san ramon, i'm gonna do it.

plus i have to pee. really bad. but there were a few times on 505 where i really needed that coffee.

granted, people are being really cautious, which is nice. and i followed this honda civic forever on I-80 until they decided to go into the second lane, which i'm just not willing to do.

the wind is so bad--it's not so bad here on 680, which is strange--it's really bad in Maxwell area.

ah, lovorna road, praise the- oh... water... [clunk] oh... ah... i hope i didn't just break a tire. this road sucks man, they really need to pave this. there's like a huge dent in the road just filled with water. the only reason i knew about it was the huge van in front of me actually slowed down. i think he's gonna be my partner for the rest of the time here."

this doesn't even begin to illustrate how nasty it was. and no. i didn't look through the view finder. i could do this stuff blind. and notice there's no one around me. come on. i'm not that stupid.

McReflections

I went to McDonald's for the first time in... ("a presence I've not felt since...")

Well, it's been like, forever.

You know what my favorite part about McDonald's is? Apart from its long-enduring iconic American presence?

The straws.

Bryan noted the maximum suckage capacity. I noted the colored stripes. Our drink was gone quickly. Is this to make us buy bigger drinks? Cause the small one that came with the $3 meal, truly is the smallest of all fast food restaurants. (Okay, so I only go to Jack-in-the-Box and In-n-Out. I have an affinity for hyphens. And $1 huge cheeseburgers. And cow that tastes like cow.)

One must assume that every centimeter of McDonald's and its products is brilliant marketing designed to make you want to buy more of their crappy food. It's the only way they've survived. The red and yellow and arches? They have magical powers.

Another fave of mine is the McJargon. We parked and ate rather close to the drive-thru. (Please be aware that I know this is spelled wrong. But drive-through looks heinously incorrect, yes?) These folks are die-hard McFans. What struck me was the utter seriousness of their use of "Mc" everything. While I asked for "the cheap chicken sandwhich and the double cheeseburger $3 meal thing", dudes talk very matter-of-factly into the intercom with a secret language. "I'll have a McChicken, McNuggets, Big Mac (apparently, according to the Tartans, Mc and Mac are interchangeable. Good for MacDonalds. I thought someone overlooked a major faux pas.) and a McDrink..." Okay I don't know about the McDrink. But you see my wonder.

think pink

let's consider the brilliant marketing that is think pink. how did they do it? someone should study that marketing model. then write a book. and give the proceeds to susan b. komen for the cure

has anyone noticed how susan b. komen is like, a household thing now?

i think about breast cancer when i eat yoplait yogurt.

i think about breast cancer when i watch football.

i think about breast cancer when i shop at macys

i think about breast cancer when i read cooking light.

i think about breast cancer when i buy riesling from cost plus world market.

i think about breast cancer when i drive down church creek (how did they get the traffic signs to say "think pink?")

i think about breast cancer when i use the toilet. (it's on the tp packaging)

i think about breast cancer when i when i walk at the river.

oh the propaganda

but seriously. have you seen young mothers these days? those poor souls. their poor backs. dragging the baby carrier everywhere. do the kids get bed sores?

apparently, they've invented a strap to drag around your baby carrier/car seat with. now you can have the 30 pounds in the shape of sharp-edged plastic smash against yr hip instead of yr knees. thanks ingenuity. yr on yr way up.

so on this blog i just read (this thingamajig guy is alright) he mentions that when you see this strap being used (you should check out the photo, it's pretty funny) there are two responses;

"Hmm, that’s really interesting."
The other group is looking at that photo and thinking, "What the hell is wrong with our society?"

basically yes, i'm the latter. and maybe it's 'cause i have a tweaked back and angry joints. but it just seems like lot of extra manual labor for an already taxing job (Lord love the little munchkin). why carry more than you have to? i know, i know, i'll just wait and see until my little one is sleeping and i don't want to awaken the quiet...
whatev. i'll let you know when i get there. but i'm going sling on y'all. AND i live in redding. bring it on. the heat, i mean... of an extra body. (it's only like, 110 ten here folks. it could be fallujah) at least i won't be retaining as much water at that point. oh sorry, was that too graphic? i'll refrain.
back to the subject line. many are very convinced they need like, thousands of bucks worth of baby crap. (target being some of them). oh i said crap. i'm going to give myself a timed test. in one minute, here are the things i can think of:
swing, table-top chair, booster seat, high-chair, pack-n-play, bouncer, walker, hangy-from-the-threshold-of-the-door-bouncer-thingy, crib, bassinet, jogger stroller, umbrella stroller, moses basket... okay time's up. (i'm a slow typer. i blame the hyphens.)
uh yeah. i don't have room for but 3 of those items. so i choose... crib, swing, and booster seat. ooooh and i can keep the umbrella stroller in the car. sweet! seriously. where am i gonna put all this? maybe i don't need a couch... Bryan will fight that one.



this if from the super cool national geographic website. i could spend hours there...

i fear me [subtitle: is this pregnancy?]

it's a sorrowful turn of events when one fears themself.
i made a soft boiled egg in the microwave. it exploded. twice. i swear it was only in there for less than 30 seconds.
to round out the protein i grab the juice and shake as settling may have occurred. the contents ended up occurring all over the counter, me, and the floor. one hasn't cleaned til they've enjoyed cleaning pineapple/apple/mango juice up from a porous floor.
i open my prenatal vitamins. cause i'm so healthy like that. how it fell out of my hand i'll never know. the pills flew in the wet sink, on the counter, on the ground. good thing they're cheap(?).
while attempting to butter bread the tupperware flew out of my hand and we all know butter never ends right side up.
i really considered not taking the freeway to work today. can you blame me?
i think i need a pet cricket. it worked for mulan.

are you kidding me?

it called for polyethylene

i think maybe we've taken this whole radah thing overboard. radah as in hebrew to rule, have dominion over...pertaining to our relationship with the fish of the sea, the birds of the heavens, the cattle, and every creeping thing that creepeth upon the earth. (wow am i glad NASB went modern in '95).
ruling, my eye. we're dominion/ruling them into the ground.
my dad and i watched this report on wired science about plastic in the ocean. something about nearly 46,000 pieces of plastic per square mile of ocean? "ew" doesn't begin to describe that.
where is all this crap coming from? why are we hating on the animals? it's disturbing to look at the pictures (below), don't you think?
where do i fit in w/ all of this? i'm not wanting to be the preachy activist. my heart hurts, though, to think how we've junked the earth God made.

perspective: it's an issue of value. like whole wheat bagels vs. iceberg lettuce. which is gonna substantially satisfy you with it's sumptious substance? delicious complex carbs or low calorie dirt-tasting water-food? lettuce is crunchy and pretty, but my buck's on the bread everytime.
God loves His children way more than animals. His kids please Him.

the LORD your God is with you, He is mighty to save.

He will take great delight in you, he will quiet you with his love, He will rejoice over you with singing. zeph 3.17

anyway, i'm thinkin' He's got a serious-genius-stealthy plan to make things right and nail the chumps that carelessly trashed His creation.
and i'm here to shmear grace on everyone i can reach w/ a spatula.

...consider that our present sufferings are not worth comparing with the glory that will be revealed in us. The creation waits in eager expectation for the sons of God to be revealed. For the creation was subjected to frustration, not by its own choice, but by the will of the one who subjected it, in hope that he creation itself will be liberated from its bondage to decay and brought into the glorious freedom of the children of God. rom 3.18...

ka-boom

aside from the religious powder-keg surrounding the art that is yoga... ( i know, i know, it's the worship of a snake from the underworld or something? that's the richest one i've heard. it's pretty harmless when the tv is muted...)
it is heralded for its relaxing and stress-relieving powers. (so is barbiturate abuse but let's stay on this side of the law.) it's one of the most popular and culty exercise methods ever, right?
the reason it's relaxing, my friends, is not a great mystery. have you ever done yoga for a good 45 minutes? it's absolutely exhausting. it's all this isometric sickness. that means yr body is in a static position in which the joint angle and muscle length do not change during contraction. thanks wikipedia.
i'll just call it crazy hard. or "moments of shaking taxing weakness-revealing exercise". but working on the core is a good thing. helps yr back and stuff. which'll be good if we ever get to backpacking (now that i have a sick pack w/ cushion pads of glory. thank you arc'teryx.) maybe the isometrics will pay off on the next mountain...
but i'd rather be hiking freezing my tookus (how does one spell that?) like here on mt. adams.

mensa brilliant

you know how elevators go up and down?
my job at ikea this week is to greet people as they arrive by elevator and escalator to the 2nd floor showroom. for some reason, the following story is hilarious to me.
more than a few times, as i stand in front of these 2 devices (which are directly next to huge plexiglass windows peering down into the entrance on the 1st level), people who have just come up the escalator or elevator ask this question:
customer: does this (points to elevator) go down?
jess: yes. the elevator goes down.

crabby patty

just out of beckoning curiosity, why is it that when they serve crab, it has to be in its shell? honestly. i’m not saying that the task of freeing the delicious sweet meat of a snow crab isn’t worth getting juices up to yr elbows and gashes on yr hands from shell and crab zipper isn’t worth it. i’m just saying, why have we eliminated the middle man?
my hands are burning, yo. though, in part, that may have to do with the fact it was ripped apart and eaten outside on the columbia river in not-so-warm April weather. it was, after all, 38 degrees this morning.

las palabras

just so you know... i did not win this round. actually. if i were to be completely honest with myself and the world around me...
i didn't win any rounds this weekend. four days with my mom playing scrabble. four day losing to my mom playing scrabble. at least she didn't score any stupid bingos. you know, the ones where you use all yr letters? yeah, i'm not sure how those are done, either. though i've seen it cause my demise time and time, again. she's not lettin' on, either.
and yes. guano was mine. it means bird poo.

pursed and furrowed

that described my lips and brow as the lady at the coffee shop gave me her timid 2 cents about why she served my iced doppio in a 8 oz instead of 12 oz like she said she would. so i questioned it, of course. she replies:
"are you going to milk in it?"
(is that any of her business? i might just put a bit of hydrocodone in it, too. what's it to her? she might call the cops. this is, after all, a christian coffee shop [now there's a subject for future discussion])
"just a bit of half & half" (as i am on a breve kick this summer)
"okay, cause then we would usually charge you for a latte. just to let me know."
(didn't she see me counting out nickels to pay for this out of obligation for using their wireless service?) and (duh. the extra cost is why i asked for a doppio on the rocks. again, i only use a little half & half.)
"well the lattes are too strong" (full of milk i mean)
latte infers the heating of milk, yes? when you pour 2 shots of espresso on ice and add 2%, how can that be considered a latte? allow me to paste from the dictionary website maintained by none other than Princeton University (if we can't trust them, who can we trust?)
latte n : strong espresso coffee with a topping of frothed steamed milk
ha! at what point does the pouring of everyday (non-organic and 2% i might add) milk from a jug constitute a latte?
seems to me the extra price of a latte results from the energy spent in heating said milk under a potentially dangerous situation (every had a steam burn? ouch?) and that is clearly not what would have happened here. clearly she would add a bit of said "jug milk" to my doppio and ice. cause i know she wouldn't have heated the milk and then added to the espresso. would she have? heated then cooled milk? hm.
there's so much to learn about the barista's life. so much.

ode to a greasy urn

aside from the profound maiming potential of a standard garbage disposal, consider the convenience of said appliance. then, further consider life and regular kitchen goings on without the use of such a machine.

is the picture painted a bleak one?

it should be.

the standard disposal (as seen here... i like that it's called a badger. a rather viscious toothy mammal.) is used for only one purpose, yet its spectrum of application is worth stewing over. common knowledge is its purpose to grind nasties up well enough so the household plumbing doesn’t require the sucking snake of purification. the diposal’s execution... during the clean-up of meals, the riddance of peels and skins (except of course of particularly sinewy material in which case you would mourn the day of their sacrifice to the pit as you will surely cause its very bane), the scrapping of spoiled and otherwise inedible foods (by the by, if you leave your standard cheese sauce made from a roux that has been combined with cheddar and a dash of cayenne and paprika, you will find a cultivation of disturbing pools of magenta substance), and of course, the drainage of dishwasher ickies ...is wonderful, resplendent, nay, even pulchritudinous.

however, any machine use is machine wear. i heard that so brilliantly stated during an informational video on gasoline and diesel engines in a small machine technology class i subbed for last month, (which was a nightmare i am quite beholden to forget).

when this appliance becomes defunct it is one thing to deftly and thoroughly scrape food items into the trash can (which necessitates more frequent removal of this bin’s contents to the dumpster than normal… but happily this is not my job). but it is another thing entirely to watch the month’s decrepit protoplasm and remains seep up into the sink in a swirling cyclone of putrescence leaving its particles and slag for the world to see and smell after the liquid has slowly ebbed away.