Yesterday I got all jazzed for the new year.
I went to Uwajimaya and got the cutest day planner. My 2005 day planner was one of those boring black numbers -- purely utilitarian.
My new 2006 planner is covered in jean fabric with cute strawberries 'n cherries and says in Engrish "It's my own taste. I like simplicity." The calendar and note pages within have cute puppies on almost every page. I couldn't just have puppies, so I bought a supplemental packet of planner note paper with kittens splayed out in cute little poses.
Following last weekend, where I spent an entire day shooting pictures without the film loaded in the camera (painful) I also decided that enough is enough and I signed up for a black 'n white photography class at Seattle Central. Starting in January, Monday evenings you'll find me in the photo lab mixin' it up with chemicals 'n film, learning about f-stops and apertures. Weeha!
I'm not calling learning how to use a camera a "new year's resolution." In general, I'm not too keen on resolutions, because they seem to imply a permanent, imposed, forced change. I'm more into introducing shifts in the daily flow of living. These shifts may or may not bear out into permanence, but either way are intended to be happy and fun.
Wednesday, December 21, 2005
Thursday, December 15, 2005
Hairy Christmas
For those that like their Christmases full of hairy goodness, I bring you:
http://christmaschebacca.ytmnd.com/
http://christmaschebacca.ytmnd.com/
Tuesday, December 13, 2005
what the flip?
I went to Mamma Mia last night with my friends Jodi and Sally. Jodi had a couple of spare tickets from work, so she invited us out to the show. It was super-fun. We went to Dragonfish and had some pretty tasty food, including this delicious hot chocolate cake with raspberry-ginger sauce drizzled on it.
We ended up each having leftovers, so we decided to put it all in one box to give to someone on the street on the way to the theater.
The walk to the show didn't present anyone who fit the bill, so I left it in a doorway in the hopes someone would find it. After the show (which was fun, I was half-dancing in my seat, trying to restrain myself) the food was still there. I grabbed it and as we walked to the car I scoped out the scene, trying to find someone who might be in need of some grub.
Right outside the theater a bedraggled man was facing the crowd as it exited the building, a prime spot for panhandling if ever I saw one. I walked up to him and he turned to me and said "could you spare some change for some food?" I presented the box of food to him and asked him if he'd like some food. He looked at me quizzically, and then asked where it was from. I told him, and then he shook his head in mild disdain and told me he was a vegetarian (!!????!!!?). He then turned back to his panhandling. I walked off, puzzled. I had been a vegetarian for 10 years, but you can bet your sweet bippy if I was down 'n out I'd have been eating a hamburger if it was handed to me. Food is food.
I found a man a block away whose only stipulation was that some of the food be soft, because he had just a few teeth left so he needed the food to be soft in order to eat it.
Vegetarian homeless guy is someone who might not need that handout, but there are others who need a hand up in the form of real nourishment, and I'll be damned if I let people like him cloud out the rest of the folks who do need help. It does suck though that there are people like that out there.
On the way to work this morning I smelled Blue Razzleberry. I'm going to start calendaring this to see if there is a pattern. Is every Tuesday Blue Razzleberry day, I wonder?
We ended up each having leftovers, so we decided to put it all in one box to give to someone on the street on the way to the theater.
The walk to the show didn't present anyone who fit the bill, so I left it in a doorway in the hopes someone would find it. After the show (which was fun, I was half-dancing in my seat, trying to restrain myself) the food was still there. I grabbed it and as we walked to the car I scoped out the scene, trying to find someone who might be in need of some grub.
Right outside the theater a bedraggled man was facing the crowd as it exited the building, a prime spot for panhandling if ever I saw one. I walked up to him and he turned to me and said "could you spare some change for some food?" I presented the box of food to him and asked him if he'd like some food. He looked at me quizzically, and then asked where it was from. I told him, and then he shook his head in mild disdain and told me he was a vegetarian (!!????!!!?). He then turned back to his panhandling. I walked off, puzzled. I had been a vegetarian for 10 years, but you can bet your sweet bippy if I was down 'n out I'd have been eating a hamburger if it was handed to me. Food is food.
I found a man a block away whose only stipulation was that some of the food be soft, because he had just a few teeth left so he needed the food to be soft in order to eat it.
Vegetarian homeless guy is someone who might not need that handout, but there are others who need a hand up in the form of real nourishment, and I'll be damned if I let people like him cloud out the rest of the folks who do need help. It does suck though that there are people like that out there.
On the way to work this morning I smelled Blue Razzleberry. I'm going to start calendaring this to see if there is a pattern. Is every Tuesday Blue Razzleberry day, I wonder?
Saturday, December 10, 2005
Ingy #2
So, I'm not the only Ingy around. It turns out there are other Ingy's running around -- who knew?
Case in point. I was contacted a few weeks ago by an Ingy who was coming through town and wanted to meet another Ingy. His official name at time of writing is Brian, but he is planning soon enough to change his name to Ingy döt Net. We made plans to meet up at "Gossip," a bubble tea place close to work in the International District.
On the way there, I mused about how strange the internet is. On the basis of both having the same name (mine is a nickname, his is about to be his official name) and not much else, we've decided to devote some real-life time to meet up and imbibe sweet tea with weird large tapioca floating in it. Kooky, eh?
I walked into 'Gossip' and saw a petite Korean woman sitting at one table, and a tall Scandinavian-looking guy wearing a shockingly pink ski hat sitting at another. No doubt about it, this was Ingy.
We settled into a very nice conversation, talking about computers, bike racing, identity, and other topics. As we talked I was struck by the ease with which we talked to each other. Here we were, perfect strangers. But part of this has to do with all of the elements that had already coalesced prior to him finding my name: he knew Seattle and we had plenty to talk about there, we both like blogging so probably have a tendency towards being chatty, by both being able to see each other's blogs we had a headstart in determining whether we even wanted to meet each other. And if nothing else, we both have the same name.
He's off to Taiwan now. Here's to you, my Ingy brother. May your travels be most enjoyable.
Case in point. I was contacted a few weeks ago by an Ingy who was coming through town and wanted to meet another Ingy. His official name at time of writing is Brian, but he is planning soon enough to change his name to Ingy döt Net. We made plans to meet up at "Gossip," a bubble tea place close to work in the International District.
On the way there, I mused about how strange the internet is. On the basis of both having the same name (mine is a nickname, his is about to be his official name) and not much else, we've decided to devote some real-life time to meet up and imbibe sweet tea with weird large tapioca floating in it. Kooky, eh?
I walked into 'Gossip' and saw a petite Korean woman sitting at one table, and a tall Scandinavian-looking guy wearing a shockingly pink ski hat sitting at another. No doubt about it, this was Ingy.
We settled into a very nice conversation, talking about computers, bike racing, identity, and other topics. As we talked I was struck by the ease with which we talked to each other. Here we were, perfect strangers. But part of this has to do with all of the elements that had already coalesced prior to him finding my name: he knew Seattle and we had plenty to talk about there, we both like blogging so probably have a tendency towards being chatty, by both being able to see each other's blogs we had a headstart in determining whether we even wanted to meet each other. And if nothing else, we both have the same name.
He's off to Taiwan now. Here's to you, my Ingy brother. May your travels be most enjoyable.
Friday, December 09, 2005
misplaced
I work in the International District of Seattle and sneak up on work from the South end, in the industrial side of town. I drive past Georegetown, past Freightliners parked for a piping hot plate of grease from Kettell's, and further along past warehouses and the vaccuum shop that gives away free bibles.
As I make my half-awake way along towards work, every morning I pass by this spot near the fire station and the Burger King that smells like a Kool Aid factory. Hidden from view, I imagine the building is brightly colored and is filled with happy cartoon-like characters making buckets of Kool Aid for all the little boys and girls. One day as I drive by, my nose will be assaulted with orange flavor smell. The next day it might be blue razzleberry, and the day after that it could be cherry. It's totally bizarre, because in the midst of the desolate, endless stretch of grey, there is this olfactory rainbow I drive past every day on my way to work. Kooky.
It kind of reminds me of Sam's Syrup (and really, New York's Syrup) weirdness. This implacable smell that makes no sense in the context of its surroundings.
Speaking of mis-matches, I've been noticing and totally enjoying the latest slew of commercials that use inappropriate songs.
Carnival Cruise Line - Iggy Pop's 'Lust for Life' -- I imagine the extended mix of this commercial including glamorous clips of people shooting up, etc.
Pontiac - M83's 'Don't Save Us from the Flames' -- The beginning lyrics of the song include such happy lines as "out of the flames, a piece of brain in my hair, the wheels are melting" -- not exactly what I'm looking for when I buy a car. :-)
And then there's the Postal Service's 'We Will Become Silhouettes' which I think was also featured in a car commercial, and again the message is of the bleak aftermath of nuclear annihilation -- not the joy of owning a snazzy car: "Because the air outside will make our cells divide at an alarming rate until our shells simply cannot hold all our insides in, and that's when we'll explode (and it won't be a pretty sight)"
I like things that are misplaced like this though, because it causes things to leap out that would otherwise have stayed hidden in view.
As I make my half-awake way along towards work, every morning I pass by this spot near the fire station and the Burger King that smells like a Kool Aid factory. Hidden from view, I imagine the building is brightly colored and is filled with happy cartoon-like characters making buckets of Kool Aid for all the little boys and girls. One day as I drive by, my nose will be assaulted with orange flavor smell. The next day it might be blue razzleberry, and the day after that it could be cherry. It's totally bizarre, because in the midst of the desolate, endless stretch of grey, there is this olfactory rainbow I drive past every day on my way to work. Kooky.
It kind of reminds me of Sam's Syrup (and really, New York's Syrup) weirdness. This implacable smell that makes no sense in the context of its surroundings.
Speaking of mis-matches, I've been noticing and totally enjoying the latest slew of commercials that use inappropriate songs.
Carnival Cruise Line - Iggy Pop's 'Lust for Life' -- I imagine the extended mix of this commercial including glamorous clips of people shooting up, etc.
Pontiac - M83's 'Don't Save Us from the Flames' -- The beginning lyrics of the song include such happy lines as "out of the flames, a piece of brain in my hair, the wheels are melting" -- not exactly what I'm looking for when I buy a car. :-)
And then there's the Postal Service's 'We Will Become Silhouettes' which I think was also featured in a car commercial, and again the message is of the bleak aftermath of nuclear annihilation -- not the joy of owning a snazzy car: "Because the air outside will make our cells divide at an alarming rate until our shells simply cannot hold all our insides in, and that's when we'll explode (and it won't be a pretty sight)"
I like things that are misplaced like this though, because it causes things to leap out that would otherwise have stayed hidden in view.
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