Saturday, March 30, 2013

Uh Oh. Is it time to join the ranks of the crazy bike army people?

This is me on the inaugural ride of the new bike today. 
I'm laughing when I realized Mikey was taking a photo.
It was 75 and sunny, and I'm accepting suggestions for naming the new bike - she is a cream Dutch style upright with sweet fenders, a bell, a rack & pannier and a big cushy Brooks saddle. 

Monday, March 25, 2013

You were right, you were right.

Who is right? Well, anyone who has told me that my standards of cleanliness are far above the average. Or far above the above-average.

Today, I brought our vacuum in for service. According to the 100-year-old vacuum store in Portland, a vacuum should be serviced once a year, to be checked for belts or filters or creaky parts - and I told the guy that our vacuum is 5 years and 4 months old (but it could totally be 6 years and 4 months; I just can't remember) and has never been serviced or had a filter changed.

He asked me if we use it. He asked me if I had just cleaned it. (No; I just dumped the bagless catchall area out but that's not exactly cleaning it.) He repeatedly asked me how long we have had it. Do we use it on carpet? On hardwood? Do we really use it? And in the end, he refused to perform any maintenance on it because it was too clean, too nice, in the "best shape" he has ever seen a vacuum that is five years old, and he'd feel guilty if he took my money for something I didn't need.

My cleanliness has now officially been documented and affirmed and truly admired by a professional salesman and repairman of an ITEM DESIGNED TO CLEAN OTHER THINGS.

I can die happy.

Thursday, March 14, 2013

3 Points.

On Weight Watchers, you may regularly find yourself, after dinner, with 3 points left. About 10% of your daily total. So then you might find yourself making a list of all the things you can have for 3 points, and deciding which will be enough to turn off the food-thinking, Smitten-Kitchen-skimming, kitchen scrounging for the night... let me suggest a few items on that list...

  • 4 ounces of wine
  • 1 slice of toast with a teaspoon (teaspoon!) of jam or peanut butter (but not both)
  • 1 Thomas' English muffin, plain
  • a large mug of strong hot cocoa, made from the powder with water
  • a small bowl of oatmeal with berries or frozen unsweetened peaches stirred in
  • just-under-one-shot of vodka with soda water
  • 40% of a regular sized candy bar, or about 2 sticks of a KitKat
  • 8 ounces of orange juice
  • 1.5 graham crackers
  • 3 cups of popcorn without butter
All this, with an eye on the prize... happy hour after work on Friday night! For that's where all the points go. 

Wednesday, March 13, 2013

You don't know you.

Are you familiar with the drunk friend, who has had two cocktails too many, and is full of enough piss and vinegar to get annoyed with you when you try to tell them something you've observed?

"Pshhhh, you don't know me. Nobody knows me..." they say, stumbling around the edge of the bar, headed for the bathroom.

(I actually know someone whose nickname-when-drunk is "You Don't Know Me Jay".)

Well since my last post I've been in the long process of interviewing for, and then accepting, a new job - plus putting in notice at my current job and attempting to wrap up a role there that has expanded over the last 3+ years into something wonderful - but something uniquely my own - and thus not easy to train someone new for, especially on paper in the one grand exit memo I'm writing.

In this nerve-wracking time - as any time of change and transition is sure to be - I've learned a few interesting things. The first is the title of this post, said by (whom else?!) my husband, King of Hitting The Nail on the Head.

So as I waited for a call back, or an email, I was in a twirl of panic about my ability... my likability, my career flexibility, my skill portability... when John said, "You have all that stuff down pat. They'll see it, even if you're not sure of it right now. You even said you walked in there confident and relaxed and only got nervous after the interview, when you realized you really DID want the job. You're not worried about this. Right now? You don't even know you."

With a wink, he was totally right.

In what ways don't you know you? What do you tell yourself, about yourself, that the outside world consistently contradicts? Are you too shy, too lazy, too unable to create an original joke? But then people invite you to parties and leave you alone, merely introduced to someone new, or your home and hearth is squared away as can be, or people belly-laugh at things you say at work rather often?

If we could choose (and of course we can) to stop believing that little nitpicky voice, what things would we know (or not know!) about ourselves, and be delighted to begin acting upon? We might find a new job, at the very least.