Snowpocalypse

...is the term I heard someone on the radio use to refer to one day of actual snowing.

Geez...and I'm from Southern California.

I found this month-old post in my drafts and thought this might be as good a time as any to finally post it -- especially considering that it's 66 and sunny here in San Diego. Here it is:

Though it only snowed a little last Sunday and all Monday, it was in the low 20s on Tuesday and Wednesday. The snow had all disappeared by the end of Thanksgiving.

I was in heaven. I had only seen it snowing for a couple minutes when I was ten and we were driving to Julian. By the time I got out of the car, it had stopped. So this was a new and wonderful experience for me. What surprised me most was how gently it comes down. I was expecting snow to fall closer to the speed of rain. Another concept I can only describe as "depth of field" amazed me about snow -- it was so...3D. I tried to capture it in this video in vain:

Snow in Occidental Square

And in Ballard

I'd always wanted to make some maple candy like they did in Little House in the Big Woods, but the snow was so powdery that the maple syrup sank right through.

It was still delicious, though.

I showed up to work the next day to find that, even though it was sunny, it was a "snow day." It was so beautiful out that I didn't want to turn around and get back on a bus for an hour, so I walked through downtown in the sparkling, 22-degree weather, wishing I had a camera with me. A man under the viaduct who was working for a historical society did, though -- a 1920 camera, one of those accordion-shaped boxes on a tripod with a hood for the photographer. He was documenting life around the viaduct (in the midst of a current debate about its future). The photographer asked if he could take my picture just walking along under the road.

In Belltown, some people with a death wish were sledding down the hill right across a busy street.

The sculpture park by the water looked beautiful covered by a blanket of pristine snow.

I just kept walking and walking and eventually I had walked the eight miles home.

I love snow.

The end.

Last of the Fall Leaves

I looked back at my old Xanga blog for the first time in five years...

9/27/05:
(Our neighbors in San Luis Obispo)
There's the "artist" who gave us a housewarming gift of an old sink on a stand filled with dirty water and flowers with the roots on them, saying "here are some crap flowers. If you don't want it, just throw it back in my yard." On the other side we have a duplex with two college student chainsmokers. One I call "baldy," and the other hits on Lana. They take very good care of their lawn, unlike us. The other half of the duplex is occupied by newlyweds. He's sitting with the front door open in his boxers playing computer games most of the time I walk by. Across the street there's either a lesbian or a gay guy (I'm still trying to figure out which) who comes and goes constantly and has two yellow mini coopers. Directly across from us is an ancient woman, "Margaret," who does gardening all day in a sweatsuit, but her yard never changes.

We later found out the "artist" may or may not have been running a meth lab in a shed in his backyard.

I hated living in that house. It's not like my life was so great back then, but why does it make me so sad to read all these old memories?

Love this girl.

These amazing mushrooms growing outside my apartment are pretty much the coolest thing I've ever seen.

Friday night and I'm at home reading my work e-mail. Yes, I am that cool, and I couldn't be happier. Sales are up THIRTY-FOUR percent from this week last year. And apparently the blog tour I organized helped Doughnuts reach the top of the chart for confectionary books on Amazon.com!

Really really good book. It makes me want to revive my childhood dreams of being a paleontologist. Unfortunately most of these places you can go help dig cost thousands of dollars even though you're basically providing them with manual labor. I might volunteer with one of the free programs, though.

I love this blog called "New Dress a Day." After getting laid off her job, the woman who started it was inspired by that "Julie/Julia" movie to do something creative. She wondered if she could make 365 dresses, one for each day, for only $365! Scouring pay-by-the-pound thrift stores and garage sales, each day she takes a hideous $1 dress and totally revamps it into something she wears that day. I didn't discover this blog until it made the Yahoo homepage. She's really adorable, and has received a lot of press from this project.

Doughnut Stop Believin'

I organized my first blog tour for work! It kicks off today on CakeSpy (an amazing blog that combines my two loves: pastries + adorable illustrations). It was so fun to have so many well-known food bloggers respond excitedly to my e-mails, eager to review this book. This is why publishers always want authors to have "a platform"! Built in fan base, YEAH!

"I suppose I don't know what I think." This confession embarrassed me. It was a source of both terror and comfort to me then that I often seemed invisible--incompletely and minimally existant, in fact. It seemed to me that I made no impact on the world, and that in exchange I was privileged to watch it unawares.

-Housekeeping, Marilynne Robinson.

It's 8:35. Time to retire to bed with a Harry Potter book.

This is the life.

Today I saw this post on Oh Happy Day! and thought "I could do that. Hell, I could do better than that." I've been feeling really down about my abilities and unmotivated (which is the main killer), so I don't mean to brag, but...it is nice to know that if I wanted to I could produce something others would find interesting.

Me

Amy and Steven

Sometimes I think about renting a cottage on a Swedish island and never coming back. Then I discovered this website, and think I actually might.

So many cute haircuts, but I think this is the only one my lanky hair type could pull off. What do you think?

Chai Sugar Cookies

Adapted from this recipe (just added chai).

The leaves are already turning bright and whipping along down the wet sidewalks. And Trader Joe's still doesn't have that delicious pumpkin muffin mix they sold last year. I wanted something autumnal -- the cookie equivalent of the Pumpkin Spice Latte. I tried substituting the sugar in a sugar cookie recipe with some of the Trader Joe's chai latte mix that I've had sitting around forever, and they turned out delicious! They taste kind of like a fluffy gingersnap.

Ingredients
2 3/4 cups all-purpose flour
1 teaspoon baking soda
1/2 teaspoon baking powder
1 cup butter, softened
1 cup white sugar

1/2 cup Trader Joe's Spicy Chai Latte mix
1 egg
1 teaspoon vanilla extract

Directions
Preheat oven to 375 degrees F. In a small bowl, stir together flour, baking soda, and baking powder. Set aside.
In a large bowl, cream together the butter, sugar, and chai mix until smooth. Beat in egg and vanilla. Gradually blend in the dry ingredients. Roll rounded teaspoonfuls of dough into balls, and place onto ungreased cookie sheets.
Bake 8 minutes in the preheated oven. Let stand on cookie sheet two minutes before removing to cool on wire racks.

When I was five, my friend Ashley came over to play and we listened to the audio book of "The Land Before Time." After Littlefoot's mother had been killed by Sharptooth, he found the tree star, and journeyed past the mountains on fire and the rock that looks like a longneck to reach the Great Valley, Ashley said "let's listen to it again; maybe his mom won't die this time."

In a roundabout way, that's how I feel about the legend of King Arthur. I'm so enamored with the story - Le Morte d'Arthur by Mallory, The Acts of King Arthur and His Noble Knights by Steinbeck, The Once and Future King by White. I especially love how Merlin ages backward. But I keep wishing things played out better in this version. There is something deeply unsettling in this tale.

I went to the play "Camelot" with Aunt Dede this weekend and remembered how much I'd hated the movie as a kid. Even then, the themes of infidelity and especially the fact that King Arthur is ok with it have stayed with me these many years. He's such a good guy (played to perfection in the play version we saw) - abandoned by his mentor and betrayed by the woman he loves and his best friend - and you can just feel the doom hanging over his head. There's no escaping it, and the play leaves you with no closure; none of the feel-good ending that you hope for a musical.

While cleaning for book club, I came across this photo I'd found at a thrift store. On the back it says "1938 N.Y. World's Fair." I love it.

I'm cozy in my apartment, cleaning and listening to Garrison Keillor while the rain pounds down outside. It's been pouring since 6:30 last night.

In Which I Go Over the Mountain to See What I Can See

Today I drove East and kept driving East to see what I could see. Eventually, I passed a sign that said "SNOQUALMIE FALLS NEXT EXIT." Just the type of thing I was looking for. So I flicked my turn signal on and drove out past some brand new developments, eventually reaching the falls. The tourists were out in full force; Indian families browsing through postcards in the gift shop, Asian teenagers taking picture after picture, old people in wheelchairs, and toddlers chasing each other underfoot.

I couldn't believe my luck to have stumbled onto something so incredible. 268 feet of roaring water freefalling to the river below, 100 feet higher than Niagra Falls. The Salish Lodge & Spa is perched right at the edge, settled among pines and deciduous trees just beginning to change into fall colors. I took some photos that I'll post if they turn out and if I ever finish this roll.

Past the falls, the road wound down to Highway 203 -- flat and sunny fields of corn and flowers. I wanted to drive slowly to appreciate the country, but had to zoom uncomfortably fast past vegetable stands and pick-your-own blueberries farms.

On my way back, I happened upon the Railway Museum at 4:59 (it closed at 5), but the old disintegrating rail cars outside were interesting to look at and read about. They used to transport animals like sheep in those slated box cars (the slats were for ventilation because so many animals died in the enclosed cars). It was expected that 6-9% of your "product" would be lost in transit (as in, die), but once refrigerated cars (the "reefers") became common, it was more economical to just transport the meat instead of the whole doomed animal.

The Heart Grows Fonder

I miss Emily so much. I know we haven't even lived in the same city for the past three years, but I never realized how often I text and call her until she's in a foreign country. With today's technology, goodbye is never goodbye. It's goodbye until I text you tomorrow or call you next week or update my facebook or go on Skype tonight. When lil' superheroine returns from rescuing sea turtles and touring coffee plantations and who knows what else, she's going to have like four e-mails from me. I doubt she'll read them, but it makes me feel better to get my thoughts out there -- like how they say to keep a journal and just write even if it's incoherant. Sorry, Emily. Maybe you're my substitute journal.

Bambino

Give 'Em the Ol' Razzle Dazzle

I have about a week to prepare for "Chicago" auditions. Haven't picked or memorized a monologue yet, haven't decided on a song, still need to write up my resume. To say that I'm a little nervous for my first musical audition in almost eight years is the understatement of the century. And to make it worse, I inadvertently scheduled my audition right after my incredibly talented co-worker (girl funded her travels by entering and winning karaoke contests whenever she was running low on cash, for heaven's sake!). I just need to buckle down. At least I have a headshot now. Not to sound vain, but I'm going to credit the photographer (me), the model (me), and the photo-editor (me+Microsoft Digital Image) for making it look a bit more than something that was taken with a digital point-and-shoot camera sitting on the floor of a dirty apartment after having just woken up. I just wish I didn't seem to be channeling the left eye of ol' wonky-eye in her latest mug shot.

To Read...

I've been watching "The Cosby Show" fairly religiously lately. It makes for good happy dreams before bedtime (but then I follow it up by reading Dracula, so...).

I came across this pre-zany sweater photo of Bill Cosby and his wife, Camille Hanks. I love it.




























He actually looks quite dashing, and I love the way she's looking at him in this. So sweet.

Another Dog

I just couldn't resist re-posting. Look at the sweet little face. I die!

(from Needle + Thread)

Pretty sure I've seen this little dude around Ballard...

I Want to Get a Dog!

Chihuahua/Dauchshund mix. Look how cute:

Discovery Park Loop

"Heaven help us," said Orlando, standing at the window and watching the pigeons at their pranks. "What a world we live in! What a world to be sure." Its complexities amazed her. It now seemed to her that the whole world was ringed with gold. She went to dinner. Wedding rings abounded. She went to church. Wedding rings were everywhere. She drove out. Gold, or pinchbeck, thin, thick, plain, smooth, they glowed dully on every hand.

Do You Wanna Dance Dance?

Mirage, "Woman" 1983

"The Suitor" by Jane Kenyon

We lie back to back. Curtains
lift and fall,
like the chest of someone sleeping.
Wind moves the leaves of the box elder;
they show their light undersides,
turning all at once
like a school of fish.
Suddenly I understand that I am happy.
For months this feeling
has been coming closer, stopping
for short visits, like a timid suitor.


Thanks to Inklings Journal!

Chez Moi

For Emily: