Transference

There has been no recycling or garbage pick up in a month, maybe more. The bins are overflowing, both at home and on the street. People have stopped picking up their dog messes because once bagged, there is no place to throw them. The streets are filthy, Titan has a sore paw, I am out of wine and I CANNOT GET THIS PLASTIC CONTAINER OF PINEAPPLE OPEN.

However. The Starbucks are still operating. All is not lost.

I was standing by the side of the road on Monday, shivering in the 25 degree weather, waiting for the tow truck, watching the de-icing truck cover the spot I'd just slipped off, and all I could think was, "There are eleven people coming to my house in an hour and I will not be there. Also my place is a mess and I have no provisions. I had counted on having an extra hour to clean. Also I can't get there and I can't get to the store first anyway. What the heck am I going to do about all of this? Also, should I call the insurance company?"

My friend Calsee actually got into a head-on collision on Aurora and walked away without a scratch, a Christmas miracle, and as her roommate went to go pick her up and drive them both home, all Calsee could think about was apples. "I have no apples," she told Kit, her roommate. Later on when they got home she scoured their cupboards for apples. As they repaired for the night--again--Kit asked Calsee if she really felt okay. "I'm okay," Calsee said, "but I never got my apples!"

The human mind, when put under stress and cooped up and after noticing that the daily routines it depends on have completely failed, does very, very weird things. It reminds me of seeing Children of Men with a friend of mine. (It's a phenomenal movie, by the way. If you haven't seen it, do it. But perhaps not during the holiday season.) It's supposedly set in 2027, and the friend and I argued about whether England--and the rest of the world as we know it--could descend into that kind of chaos and despair in 19 years.

Given the rate at which Seattle has shut down given a complete lack of city support for three weeks, I'm increasingly sure that it could.

Boy, am I cheerful or what? Sorry. I just find human nature so fascinating. What makes minds go crazy? Why do they do it? What makes compulsions like OCD seem better than facing reality? Why did I only focus on my party after I'd run into a guardrail?

Still Here

Hi everyone. Seattle is having the worst storm in decades, there's snow everywhere, and all the businesses have shut down--and half the roads. My friends and I are celebrating by walking to each other's houses and having get-togethers, which is pretty awesome. My Jeep hit a patch of ice and and ran into a guardrail, which was not so awesome. (I'm fine, and the Jeep is repairable.) As I waited for the tow truck, the de-icing truck came along.

Now that's irony. And snow. So, everyone, stay warm, and enjoy each other this season.

A Little More Sunshine

Remember when I went to Boston? Like, a year ago? More than?

It was beautiful, and I took some pictures. And here they are.

From Boston, Fall 2007

From Boston, Fall 2007

From Boston, Fall 2007

From Boston, Fall 2007

From Boston, Fall 2007

From Boston, Fall 2007

Warmth By Computer

I don't know about you all, but it is 28 degrees here and snowing up a storm, and I haven't barely even warmed up from freezing to death in NYC just two weeks ago.

I desperately need warmth, y'all. Also I weighed a terrible number of pounds this morning that I can't talk about, really, and I can't drink sugary coffee anymore. So in lieu of hot chocolate, I bring you the following from L.A.

From LA

From LA

From LA

From LA

From LA

From LA

From LA

From LA

From LA

From LA

From LA

Warmer yet?

From LA

President Bush Has Fast Reflexes

The man must work out.

Bush Dodges Shoes On Farewell Visit to Iraq.

Definitely watch the video--the President moves quickly! I'm impressed.

That Time of Year AGAIN

You guys! I am going to turn 28 in two days!!!

It's true that most birthdays are celebrated in bars--at least, most of MY birthdays. Possibly you celebrate yours at home with friends, or alone on a sailboat, or naked and howling at the moon, or whatever. I won't judge.

This birthday will be slightly different. I blame it on all the runners I've been hanging out with recently. (Thanks a lot, ladies.) The Seattle Jingle Bell Run happens to be on my birthday, you see, and...well, I'm going to run it. With the aforementioned ladies, and a few gentlemen. Yes, we are waking up early Sunday morning and running a 5K. We may be hungover. We may be still up. We may have gotten a full eight hours of sleep the night before--hey, it could happen! (Unlikely.) But we are running it. Fortunately, a 5K is not a long distance--basically a fast stroll in the park. I'LL have trouble, but all the marathoners I hang with will be doing crossword puzzles while they're running, or possibly solving Rubik's cubes. Be sure to give them a hard time. In fact, come on down and give ME a hard time! We'll all have pink signs taped to our shirts and pink hats on, because we are classy.

And the Jingle Bell Run happens to benefit Arthritis Research. My dad has this disease, along with 20% of Americans. You may not think it affects you, but I bet you that you or someone you know has this disease. So, if you want to give, in support of my birthday run (what, the world doesn't revolve around me?) then be sure and go here and donate.

If you'd like to.

And thank you!

Sincerely,

Aarwenn

New York, New York

Radio City Music Hall Downstairs Lounge.

It was freezing, filthy-gorgeous, and kind of amazing.

I had been there before, but it had been some time, and going at Christmas is obviously one of the best times, although it's colder than the dark side of the moon. Rockefeller Center was all lit up, all the trees were lit, Saks Fifth Avenue had a light show (that my Little actually designed and built), and I got a real New York experience: my Little and I were leaving the St. James Theatre after Gypsy. The snow was falling and there were huge lines of musical fanatics waiting outside every theater trying to get autographs. Across the street, there was mass hysteria--Equus had just gotten out and Daniel Radcliffe himself was signing autographs on the way to his chauffered Range Rover. He's a lot shorter in person, which I realize is true about every actor ever.

More New York Experiences

I saw these guys performing:



Back to Saks Fifth Avenue: My little is a lighting designer and production manager. In New York City. She's kind of big time. Watching this, I just could not believe that I was standing next to the girl who BUILT it. My Little is amazing. (This isn't my video. It's way too high-quality for me.)



Besides Gypsy, we also saw the Radio City Music Hall Christmas Spectacular, which was over the top, but very watchable due to the incredible talent of all the performers. The building itself is worth seeing.

Lobby Staircase.

Downstairs Women's Lounge.

Lobby.

So stunning, so amazing to actually visit in person.

Way more pictures coming. I meant to post some last night, and instead, went to drink wine with two of my closest girls. It was definitely the better decision.

Trying to Pack For New York, Five Hours Before I Have To Wake Up.

The bus I have to catch to get to SeaTac leaves at 4:37 am and it's two miles away. I really, really, do not want to walk two miles in the dead of night carrying my luggage. I would leave now and just sleep in the airport except the bus has stopped running. (It stopped an hour and a half ago, at which time I was still at work. Boo Seattle and their non-24-hour transit.)

After some exhaustive research, during which I learn that none of the scheduled transporters leave early enough to make my flight, I finally decide to just take an effing cab. I console myself that I will take the bus BACK, at the normal traffic hour of 7:30 pm on a Monday, when there will be plenty of people out and so forth.

Packing is difficult. In spite of reading Lucky like it's required for my job, I have no idea what "normal but stylish" people wear in NYC, so I've packed: A lot of black. My long underwear, because daytime forecasts show a high of 38. A scarf, a hat, and my armwarmers. Sweaters. Button-downs and sweaters. (Hey, I look good in them.) Running clothes. (Just in case.) And a dress and boots, just in case. And one drape-y top.

Plus my longest coat, obviously.

And a snippet from the "duh" files:

I was sitting with a sorority sister of mine recently, in from out of town. We were in my apartment, and it was the last few hours I was going to see her for some time, and she was chatting away, and I had to check my work email, and my computer started behaving so badly that I cursed at her. She stopped talking, startled and hurt.

"I'm sorry," I quickly apologized. "Just give me a few moments of silence to get this worked out."

Once I had hurt her feelings, the laptop worked like a charm, of course. I finished my business. As we walked to the car, I felt terribly guilty.

"I'm so sorry," I said again. "I don't know why things not working the way they're supposed to drives me into such an uncontrollable rage."

She looked at me with long-suffering tolerance. "Possibly because you make things work for a LIVING," she pointed out. "Every day, your job is to make things work. I'm not surprised that when things don't work, it's an insult to your very being. You know you could design it better."

...

I stopped dead on the sidewalk. Titan sniffed a plant. "Holy CRAP," I said. "That never occurred to me. Ever."

"Hey," she said, herself no slouch in this department. "I'm a lawyer. Interpreting situations is MY daily job. I get you."

Only Dropped Things Twice + Some Looking Back

Fortunately, on two different days.

Hello! I have now worked five shifts at said restaurant position and all has gone swimmingly--enough so that they immediately added me to the schedule, after the first day, and today was my first day out of training. (WOOT I GOT TIPPED.) Also my new Lazy B position does not start until practically the new year, at which time I may have enough seniority at the restaurant to control my schedule and keep it down to a few shifts a week. It's a very chill, family-type atmosphere. Unlike huge places that have as many as 10 servers on at once, with another 10 bussers, there's a whole six servers total at V, and only three of us are on at any given time, with maybe one busser on the weekends. Already I know everyone, and have given a cook a ride home. (She lives within four blocks of me.) It's a blast and a half, not yet tarnished by the realization that I have to wake up and go to my real job every morning.


I took to it just like riding a bike, and I love it just as much as I did before, which is reassuring. I was worried that I had been unecessarily nostalgic about waiting tables due to a number of things happening at that time in my life--good support system, dating a longtime friend of mine, living with my best friend, etc. My life--the last time I waited tables, four years ago--was incredibly good and incredibly settled, and I only saw that getting better after I started working at The Lazy B.

WELL. My life got both better and worse, although not at the same time, and it certainly wasn't as settled. For some time after that.

Now, though, it's pretty settled. I have lived in the same place for two years and I easily see myself continuing on for a third. (The longest I've lived ANYWHERE after graduating high school.) My job, although it has changed, has been with the same company for four years, and I don't see THAT changing any time soon. (Cross your fingers.) And I'm waiting tables again, finally, which I love.

As for my dating life, well...a girl's gotta change up SOMETHING, right? :)

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Now playing: The Cambridge Singers (Holiday) - O Magnum Mysterium
via FoxyTunes