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Right and good. I’m sorry, I’m a little absent. I am blogging, but it’s all behind the scenes stuff. And learning self-hosting things. That’s harder than it seems. Oh my god. IT HURTS MY TINY GIRL BRAIN!
For now, go to Back Fence and read a great Fish Out of Water post by one of my favorite bicycle mamas, Kathleen McDade (whenever I don’t feel like riding, I think of Kathleen and jump on my bike). This one is about being out of place on the job. It’s super sweet and totally real. Reminded me of the year I spent as a bartender. It was not good. Not good.
No kidding.
First let me tell you something about where I am. I’m in Hawaii, yes. But not the Hawaii you’re thinking of. We’re on the Big Island and my parents live at an altitude of about 2000 feet. And they’re on the side of a volcano. So it’s cold where they are. Very cold. Right now, it’s 50 degrees and it’s rained non-stop since I got here. It’s like Portland where my parents live. Except it’s windy. Very windy. The trade winds just haul ass across the island.
Now at the beach, it’s in the 80’s and sunny, but those trade winds still blow. Yesterday they were blowing particularly strongly.
My brother goes out snorkeling most days, and unlike his older sister, he grew up surfing and swimming in the ocean. You see, I grew up a fair-skinned brunette girl in the 80’s in Southern California. I never dieted because I dislike being hungry and so I’ve always been normal weight. Not too skinny, not fat. I think, with the exception of my pregnancy, I’ve been a size eight since I was 15. In other words, I was ENORMOUS, according to Southern California standards, and, what’s worse, I COULD NOT TAN!
This resulted in my not being a strong swimmer. Nor am I a confident swimmer. Mainly because I’m so worried that my ass is looking fat and pale in a swimsuit.
I haven’t owned a swimsuit for maybe 10 years. I own short board shorts and a bikini top, which I cover up with a rash guard because I get burned too easily and I don’t want my stomach showing.
Anyway, yesterday my brother was going snorkeling and I wanted to go with him. Because I think my brother is about the coolest dude on the planet. And I’ve been eating so much since I got here, I’m afeared of putting on my jeans when I return to Portland, so I needed exercise.
We went snorkeling and checked out the reefs and it was quite lovely and the sun was shining and I was swimming and feeling fine and I said to my brother, “let’s head over there and check out that reef.”
And my brother looked across the bay where we were swimming, to where I was pointing and said, “no.”
And I said, “C’mon.”
And he said, “okay.”
So we swam across the bay and snorkeled over on the other side, but there were no fish so we decided to head in. Right as the trade winds started blowing again. Right in our faces. And there’s my brother swimming along, and suddenly a white cap blows up and the ENTIRE WAVE pours into my snorkel. I tear off my mask and snorkel and gag several times, start gasping for air, gag, watch my brother swimming away from me, have 75 more white caps pour onto my head and into my mouth resulting in more gagging and panicking and finally I scream for my brother. BUT HE’S SWIMMING AWAY!
So I have to scream louder while sea water is actively trying to drown me.
And all I can think is, I’m about to Virginia Woolf this bitch.
Finally, my brother hears my screams above the gale force winds, and he swims over to me.
“What’s up?”
“I’m going to fucking die. Your sister is going to die,” I tell him.
“You’re okay,” he says.
“No, I can’t make it in,” and then I grab his arm and my thought is this: I’m going to take you with me unless you help.
So he grabs my arm and he pulls me for a second, and then I think, why am I such a stupid girl? WHAT SELF-RESPECTING PORTLAND MAMA BIKE RIDER WOULD FREAK OVER THIS??
So I let go of my death grip on my brother and I turned on my back and we swam in on our backs. Except about halfway through when another 11 million waves broke on my head and I had to grab my brother again and scream at him that we’d die here. WE’LL DIE IN HAWAII!!
Now here’s the thing I’m alternating about being pissed about or very proud. You see, when I was panicking and certain I would drown, my brother didn’t even flinch. He didn’t even react to my, quite reasonable, screams that I was going to die. I was watching him carefully too. Very carefully. And he just stayed mellow and as we were swimming back in, he chatted with me the whole time. And then we arrived and I said, “Don’t tell Mom and Dad that I nearly drowned.” And he didn’t. So, I guess I’m proud. And I guess my brother remains the coolest dude on the planet.
HI,
I’m in Hawaii. I’m not so much into being in front of the computer right now. What with all the beach and parents to look after Arch. I do have work to do while I’m here, and I’ll be back to posting then.
Right now I’m watching Emperor Strikes Back with my 18 year old brother. I’m sunburned and I went running on a long-dormant volcano today.
I’m going to drink tea and knit now.
Wish you were all here! Imagine that party!
XOML
Okay, all of you know someone who could be a better blogger. And who’s in Portland. And has $45 to spend on a class on being a better blogger/writer. Or just wants to learn about narrative.
So go. Tell them about my class. GO NOW.
I do have a blog post. But I can’t remember what it was.
Well, sort of prepared, but I just…well…I’ve been spending 13 hours at a time alone with a three year old and I just can’t think right in my brain area.
So you need to watch this.
And then I’d like you to give The Girl Effect some money, please.
I’ll be in the padded room rocking gently and murmuring the Blue’s Clues theme song.
I have the SADDs and it’s not making me pretty. In fact, it’s making me somewhat *ahem* un-whatever the word is that means temporarily less than drop dead gorgeous but I’m not quite ready to call myself ugly on the internet. I blame Portland. I SAID IT, PORTLAND.
My skin is a fucking mess. And seriously, folks, when people meet me, after they’re done complimenting my sparkling wit and engaging personality, they always ALWAYS tell me about my peaches and cream complexion. Okay, maybe they don’t. And maybe they’re not impressed by my sparkling wit aka (occasional) overuse of irony. But whatever. It’s what I notice about myself. In fact, my skin is my gauge. It’s how I know if what I’m doing is good and ought to be pursued. So, for example, smoking. I don’t smoke not because I’m worried about my health or if I smell or if I’m making others die a painful death because of my smoke. I don’t smoke because it makes me break out. I ride my bike not because it keeps me fit and I’m saving the planet. I do it because it keeps my skin clear. Same with drinking water. Who cares about hydration.
Here’s my point: my skin looks like hell. Because I won’t be seeing the sun before I get to California and I can’t roll into San Diego looking like a cracked out black tar shingles victim, I decided to take a vitamin. Except that my vitamins are all gone. And I take special vitamins because I can’t swallow whole multivitamins, I get the Trader Joe’s chewable adult vitamins. But they’re gone and I haven’t been to Trader Joe’s. So I had to draw inspiration from that cracked out black tar shingles victim and go rooting around in my cupboards for vitamins. I came across Steve’s man-a-mins. But because they are boy things, I checked the expiration date — 4/08. Archie had a bit of Ovaltine so I mixed that up, but then I saw that it has approximately 22% of your daily vitamins. Archie also had some multivitamins, but they’re 100% of the daily nutrients for a 3 year old. So I cut up one of Steve’s man-a-mins, mixed up a double dose of Ovaltine and snorted a small cherry-flavored bear.
I’m also going to swab my skin with some vinegar tonight because I’m pretty sure white vinegar is magical. I’ll let you know if I wake up back to my Snow White self.
See? SADDs.
I totally relate to today’s Back Fence PDX post. It’s by Geoff Kleinman author of On PDX, which is a great Portland blog. The writing is clean and tight and the stories are always news to me — love it!. His story is about not being a holiday person. I am not a holiday person, Internet. If Christmas never happened again, I wouldn’t even notice. Thanksgiving I like, because I like cooking, but I’m always confused about the whole “we can’t eat until the big dinner, which happens at 2:14pm, because uhhh, I don’t know why.” You should know, Fan Club, that I eat a lot. A lot. And when I eat at 2:14 and am expected to then not eat until the next day, well, I think that’s lame. Really lame and it makes me grouchy.
Where was I? Oh yes, clean writing. On PDX is totally awesome. And I’m a big fan of Geoff’s writing. Especially when he compliments me. So go check out his story at Back Fence PDX.
We’re selling tickets to the next show here.
And, please register for my class on 12.13. If you liked my Ignite presentation, this is the extended remix, with free lunch thanks to Rick Turoczy.
1. A good recipe for orange marmalade. I’d like marmalade recipes for blood oranges, grapefruit and Meyer’s lemons. The recipes need to be superb because I love orange marmalade. I like it bitter and I like to smear it on a baguette and put some sharp cheddar on top. I like marmalade out of the jar and on a spoon and I’d probably just stick my entire face in a vat of it if it was bitter and sweet and citrus-y. I have the canning equipment, I just need the recipe. Internets?!?
2. My headache. When you grow up an only child, you have make believe friends. You talk to the voices in your head because, more often than not, they’re the only people speaking to you. My headache, which I’ve had since Monday, is like one of my only-child-made-up friends. I took a fancy prescription pill for my little friend (I don’t actually have a prescription, but my friends are fast and loose with the pills) and it helped for a day and then my invisible-headache friend returned and was like, “What. Is. Up. melissalion???” And I was like, “Whoa, you are very persistent.” And he (yes, this headache is male) was like, “I’M YOUR BEST FRIEND FOREVER AND EVER AND YOU LOVE ME.” And I couldn’t say anything because this headache has gone all Single White Female on my brain and I’m scared, Internet. *hold me*
3. Thanksgiving is drawing near and Stever’s family is coming to visit. I am making the entire dinner from scratch because I’m a controlling perfectionist.
4. On the flip side, I’ve had no inspiration in the kitchen lately. Two days ago, I sauteed sweet potatoes and soyrizo, warmed up some corn tortillas and called that dinner. Last night? Nachos. I told Steve that tonight he should look forward to cheerios and milk and maybe some sugar on top if I’m feeling FAB-U-LOUS.
5. I have very good friends. Online and in real life. I started crying in the car yesterday when I thought of all of you. I don’t know how I got so lucky.
6. This headache has made me soft.
7. I think Ignite Portland burned me out on myself. Is it possible to change my name for a few days
8. Other stuff.
9. Maybe I’ll get a complete night of sleep during Obama’s presidency? Maybe? I hope.
10. My new project.
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