Showing posts from August, 2010

Thin section

I was at the Farmer’s Market the other day and happened upon a mammogram trailer.   I know. I mentioned to someone, how you’re just walking along, looking at the peaches to see if they’re ripe, and you think, huh, when was my last mammogram? And lo and behold, you look up, and there’s a mammogram trailer. She said, no, it’s more like you notice a peach smashed on the concrete under the leg of a table loaded with heavy stuff.  That's what reminds you of the mammogram.

So anyway, I did purchase tomatoes and peaches before I noticed the trailer. It’s kind of like the bookmobile or a taco truck, but with vice grips where the books and salsa should be. No appointment needed.

I was overdue for a mammogram, because it takes so long between when you make the appointment and when it occurs that I never have the same calendar around, and forget to go. For a while, I had the reminder card on the bulletin board, but R. asked me to take it down when some people were coming over because …

Soup stories

It seems like I’ve had nothing to write about this week because the annoying people were just annoying, not charmingly so, and I realized that, unbeknownst to me, this blog has become about those people, the ones who aren't just difficult, they're difficult in a complicated way that isn't so black and white, in a way that makes me wish I had a little more patience, because we all need it sometimes, and I think that maybe if I write about them, I can try a little harder, if that makes any sense.

Yesterday when I got to the office after being out the previous afternoon, I had 14 increasingly angry messages from one guy. I wish I were exaggerating.

Long boring story, but when I finally called him back, he was furious, as you might expect, but not in an interesting way. If you’re just gonna be a straight-up a-hole, no one’s gonna write about you. Okay, maybe just a little. Seriously, your permit expired a year ago, and you’ve had the house on the market for 6 months, never…

tapping the vein

So I went to the doctor’s office today for a blood draw, and the nurse said, as they always do when they see my veins, “wow, you have great veins!”

I replied, “hmm, maybe I should have been a drug addict?” 

And she said, “don’t even say that.”  But while she was saying what I shouldn’t say, she started looking around at the veins on my arms, and said, “seriously, you really do have great veins.  Do you work out?”

“Um, yeah, I work out in the vein area, mostly. Guess it shows. Pretty buff veins.”

“Oh, sorry, was that awkward?”

Which struck me as odd, because usually things are way awkward, but no one mentions it, and on this day, it was the third awkward thing, this one hardly awkward at all, and the second ask. That seems good, right?  Good because of all the asking?  Or not good, because of all the awkwardness? I couldn’t’ tell.

The first awkward thing was when an old man came into the permit center, sat down across from me, and then just took my hand and said, “oh, don’t you…

Throwing in the towel*

Lately B. and I have been arguing about this stupid thing, which is why someone who runs a mitigation bank would be reluctant to sell credits.

“Well, they don’t want to run out. It’s like a Target; if you go there once and they don’t have what you need, you might switch over to Walmart and never go back to Target,” B. says.

“No, it’s nothing like that. It’s more like a lemonade stand, and once you sell all the lemonade you can get on with your life. You don’t want repeat customers because then you’d have to sit at the end of the driveway for the rest of your life. It’s a good thing to run out,” I reply.

This goes on for a bit, over the wall, until he comes around to my side to make a point, but he’s rubbing his elbow, and I ask what’s wrong.


“Me too! I have tendonitis in my elbow too. I think it’s from using a mouse.”

He makes a crude gesture to indicate the source of his repetitive motion injury, which makes me feel like I’m in junior high school. Fortunately, the…

A dog named Blue

We humans love our dogs in the most uncomplicated pure way, because that's the way the dogs love us, and if we're paying attention, we can probably learn something.  It's the saddest thing ever when a dog dies.

My neighbor's dog, Blue died about 3 years ago. He was old and well loved, the king of the neighborhood in a stately way, and we miss him still.  But it was his time.  He died quietly in his sleep after going on a last walk around the lake and swim the evening before.   He was the only dog I've ever known who would take himself on a walk, just a calm stroll around the lake, not deviating off to sniff things, but walking as if he were with a person, greeting neighbors, but not getting too distracted, and stopping in the designated area for a brief swim.

Blue died in the middle of the night, and my neighbor arose very early, the way we do at Lake M., and tried to bury him. First, she went out in the woods to dig a hole, but there were so many trees in the pa…

The Weak Ahead

Aries (3/21 – 4/19): What's the deal on adult adoption? Zsa Zsa's husband, Frédéric Prinz von Anhalt, was adopted at age 37. Not only that, but Zsa Zsa and Freddy have adopted "several men". Does that sound like cheating, (to get the kid after the heavy lifting is all done), or is it just plain creepy? Speaking of creepy, Frederic Prinz von Anhalt also claimed to be father of Anna Nicole Smith's babe, but he wasn't. Um, right. "Hey, you know that that sex symbol, high school dropout, former Walmart employee, yup, I'm the dad of her baby. Oh, wait, nope, guess it wasn't me, because I'm the devoted husband of Zsa Zsa Gabor, and we have all of these adult children together."  Oh, but back to you, Aries. It is unlikely that you'll get adopted this week, but you can keep hoping.

Taurus (4/20 – 5/20): Why is it that people get together to watch movies, but not to listen to podcasts? I don't get it. Must we always keep our …

Things that make me laugh

Things that make me laugh.

I was going to create a post with a list, the kind you see all over the blogosphere, because it seems like a harmless topic that won’t be used against me in court or anything. So I started:

Using PowerPoint recreationally. It cracks me up to use the most business-y, joyless software of all the whole Office Suite for pure recreation. I know, I'm alone in this, but sometimes I start thinking about it and can't stop laughing.

The word “pants. It’s such a funny word that you can’t really hear it and not laugh. That was confirmed when a coworker responded to a report that someone was clearing large trees in a wetland. He knocked at the door, no one answered, he slipped his business card in the door, and walked back towards his car. But a guy started yelling at him from a second story window, and then came to the door, naked, holding a shotgun, aiming it at County Guy, swearing. I know, this sounds like Deliverance, but it happened in Redmond, in the…