My First Giveaway

I've been reading Danny Evans of Dad Gone Mad since early 2006. Like most of the blogs I read regularly, his was probably a link on someone else's page. Don't remember who.

Danny and I have very little in common. He's a tall, skinny Jewish dude with a foul mouth and a love of all things sports. I'm not. The only wiener I blog about is my dog. But I still love his blog and the insight it gives me into the male mind.

Danny has recently written a book. A damn good book about male depression. Since I know a little something about depression, I found it insightful and breathtakingly honest. I'm fortunate that my depression was short-lived and managed easily with a few months of Prozac. I cried constantly, but still made it to work each day (while I had a job).

On Wednesday, I'll be meeting Danny in person when he visits Powell's City of Books in Portland. I'm also going to join his entourage for a few drinks.

But here's my cool idea: I'm going to have him sign his book (which I just finished over my lunch break) and then I'm going to give it away, hopefully to someone who needs it. And I'd like that person to read it and then pass it on.

I have low expectations for comments, but that's the way these things are done. I'll randomly choose the winner on Thursday, 8/13, after I've met the real Dad Gone Mad.

Homeward Bound

Decided in just the last day or two to head over the mountains to Bend, Oregon for the 4th of July holiday.

I have many emotions about this, since I grew up in Bend and graduated from high school there. I associate this community with my mother--strongly--and just being there, in the dry desert air spiked with the smell of juniper and sage, the memories are always overwhelming.

I can count on one hand the number of times I've been to Bend since the summer after my mom died. That summer I lived with her friend Ruth, cleaned hotel rooms Wednesday through Sunday, and sorted through the mountain of household possessions she had left in a storage unit at the edge of town. I rolled and totaled my car--actually my mom's car--in July and I had a big garage sale in August. Then I headed back to school in Iowa and hardly looked back.

When we realized in 2003 that we weren't going to make it in Canada, we considered moving to Bend. But that was the boom time and there was no way to afford the housing, so we settled for Portland. Now Bend is going through a rough patch. The front page of the Sunday Oregonian this week was about the foreclosures and unemployment there. When I left Bend in 1987, the population was 17,000. Now I guess it pushes 80,000--ultimately an unsustainable growth rate.

I took the kids to Bend a couple of years ago. Don't remember why. I might have had a job interview. But The Artist has never been there. When we go to Topeka, Kansas, he has a million stories--"that's the fence I jumped when running from the cops" and "that's the office building I cleaned late at night, when I was just 13."

The places in my stories don't exist anymore. I think the Circle K is some other convinience store. The Pilot Butte Motor Inn isn't on the visitor bureau's Web site. The old lumber mill is now The Old Mill District. Even Mirror Pond is having issues with rapid sedimentation.

But I'm still looking forward to the visit. I'm hoping to stay with Ruth again, but have hedged my bets with a deposit on a vacation rental. We'll participate in the Pet Parade and see the fireworks. I'll reconnect with old friends and make some new memories with my family. Good times.

Have Your Peeps Call My Peeps

According to my daughter, who has friends of every sort, this is "Church Week." We're not a church-going family, so I was somewhat unaware that all of the seven days leading up to Easter are significant. Silly me--I thought it was just a three day thing. Isn't that how long Jesus ripened in a cave before the Resurrection?

I am well aware, however, of another week being celebrated: Peeps Week. My former college roommate, Vikki, has always been a fan of Peeps. On Sunday, she'll be debuting a Peeps movie she made and until then, each day on her blog is Peeps related. You might also want to take a look at her funny Xtranormal talk show "What's Hot?" .

Serious Eats is also celebrating Peeps Week! Check out their recipe for S'Meeps. Yummy.

1991

One photo is not adequate to sum up my year of two loves.


This is Ryan, posing in the fog at Hebron Academy in Maine, where he attended high school. We met during New Student Days at Grinnell College and have been together ever since. While he has never specifically asked me to marry him, we both assume that is where were heading. And now that we're college seniors, that future seems inevitable.

However, Ryan is doing a 3-2 program: three years at Grinnell and two years at Rensselaer Polytechnic Institute, so he is spending 1990-91 in Upstate New York. I plan to join him there after graduation.


In the meantime, I've managed to schedule my classes on Tuesdays and Thursdays only. I take full advantage of my four-day weekends by traveling extensively to SCA events. I'm known in the Society of Creative Anachronism as Suvetar Kalevalainen.

At one of these events, I feel under the weather and realize that I've come down with the chicken pox. I spend finals week in Des Moines staying with my friend Melissa and her roommates--all of whom have already had the chicken pox. If you look close enough, I'm still a little scabby in all my graduation photos.


Most of my family, including my dad, maternal grandma, and my dad's cousin Bill, attend my college graduation. I graduate with a degree in American Studies with departmental honors. Ryan drives his Volvo station wagon from New York to receive his bachelors degree in physics.

It is at dinner that same night that I first question my future with Ryan. Although he's met my father before, their scary similarity--down to the fact that they are both left-handed physics majors--begins to creep me out. I don't want to marry my dad. Not realizing there is any problem, Ryan goes back to New York.

I move into Melissa's house for the summer and the very next weekend I meet Kalos. It's The Artist and I'm immediately attracted to him. He's nothing like any man I've me before--and specifically nothing like my dad.


By July I've broken up with Ryan and I'm exclusively dating The Artist. He lives in St. Joe, Missouri where he spends his workweek as an apprentice electrician. He spends his weekends the same way I do--traveling around the mid-west to medieval recreation events.

I love the friends I've made in the SCA, especially a bunch of people who live in Lawrence, Kansas. I move there at the end of the summer. Since this is The Artist's home-away-from-home, I see him often, but fool myself that he (and everyone else) doesn't know I'm chasing him.


Just six months after we meet, The Artist and I are married in December 1991 at the courthouse in Lawrence. No one in my family attends.

1985

My name is Sue and I'm 16. I'm a junior at Mountain View High School in Bend, Oregon.

This is my social year. I spend many Friday nights at Mr. G's, an under-21 dance club. I go there with my best friends Becky and Rene, in Rene's 1967 Plymouth Valiant, the Blue Buzzard. We usually park and drink screwdrivers before staggering across the highway to the club, where we smoke Camel Lights and dance to "Rock Me Amadeus" and "West End Girls." I drunkenly make out with random boys on the dance floor.

For part of the year, I have a boyfriend. He's a second-string football player and I'm a saxophonist in the marching band. He breaks up with me for being "too liberal." Months later we go to prom together, but I come home early with a "headache." No prom sex for Doug--at least not with me.

I'm in preparation for my year as an exchange student. I attend lunchtime meetings at the Greater Bend Rotary Club. I'm usually the only female there, since in 1985 women are still not allowed to be Rotarians. I get together on a regular basis with other in-bound and out-bound exchange students and make some good friends. It's on one of these trips that I meet Wade, Student Body President at Gold Beach High School. We spend months writing deep and meaningful daily letters, but I never see him again.

I don't do much homework this year, instead I paint my nails. And I always match my clothes to the color of the polish. My grades continue to be nearly flawless, except in math where my awesome test scores don't make up for lack of homework. I end up getting a "B" in math--my lowest grade in high school. I don't really care.

I steadily lose weight this year which worries my mom. I attribute it to worry about her. Her cancer is no longer in remission and has, in fact, started to spread.

Quick and Dirty Update

Car situation: After a mere $2500, my car has a new engine, heating core and headlight, amongst other miscellaneous parts. It went to Olympia (2 hours away) with no problem. When the heat is turned on high, it still smells a little like anti-freeze (sweet), but I'm not worried.

House situation: Still looking for the next rental. The current house is for sale for just $140K, but we've only had one potential buyer come through. It's a weird little house in a neighborhood that is just to the right side of questionable, so I doubt it sells before the foreclosure auction in April.

School situation: I'm taking two classes this quarter: Values Based Management and Grantwriting. Easy classes. I'm looking at the schedule for Spring to find two similarly manageable classes and then will drop to just one class per quarter for Fall 2009 and beyond.

Job situation: It's all good. I'm busy and I'm appreciated. I love my co-workers and my location. We're in a wage freeze, so my duties increased drastically in November, but my salary didn't. But I have a job!!

Family situation: The Artist is in school. He struggles with math, but is doing great with his multimedia classes. The Star is in school (sophomore). She struggles with math, but excels at literary arts, music and socialization. The Magician is in school (8th grade). He struggles with motivation, but has found a challenging, fun role as a theater tech geek.

Pet situation: Arlo is the greatest little dog! We all adore him--although I'd be happy if he'd stop stealing socks and underwear and running around the house. We're interested in getting another dachshund puppy this summer to be his buddy. The cat seems to have adopted the family across the street and doesn't even come home to eat anymore. Only The Star is sad about this.

Art situation: I have some fiber work at Angst Gallery in downtown Vancouver, but no time to make anything new. I have multiple projects partially completed. I've never really sold anything anyway.

Writing situation: I'm collecting information for the novel I want to write this summer when I don't have any classes. (Is anyone interested in going to Seattle in May to see Chinese acrobats?--it's research.) This time I really want to get the thing written. It's a new story: popular fiction rather than the literary masterpiece I had attempted before. No Oprah's Book Club for this one, but it should be fun to write. It has a smart, flexible (Chinese acrobats!), yellow-haired heroine based loosely on The Star, as well as a few historical figures such as Nikola Tesla and Lincoln Beachey. It's set in Portland in 1912.

Friend situation: Although I don't see them enough, I'd like to give a shout out to my local friends Susan and Leah. It's difficult to make friends as an adult and I really appreciate these women.

Did I miss anything? Let me know and I'll add it to the list.

Karen, You Inspire Me

I got a notice that @karenanderik was now following me on Twitter. Do I know either Karen or Erik, from North Carolina? I don't think so.

So I went to their blog and found this, which made me crack up:

When I type “beer cozy tutorial” into Martha Stewart’s website and it returns with “Embroidered Tea Cozy Tutorial”, I feel like she is judging me.

Funny particularly since I'm considering a switch from coffee to tea--and was researching teapots. Curious about my choice?

They also apparently have recently neutered their dog:

Sweeter words were never spoken than “Yes, we have confirmed Stanley’s neuter for tomorrow morning.”

Dog balls? Is this what we have in common? Is this why we're suddenly net-friends?

No. I finally realized that in a rare moment of charity, I donated a very small amount of money to Karen's 3-Day Walk for Breast Cancer. (Please go read the recap--it's incredible.) Back in August Danny Evans, aka Dad Gone Mad, opened his comments for people to post worthwhile causes. I followed a link to Karen's fund raising site and was inspired to give a little something towards her $2,200 goal.

I don't often donate money--with one income and four family members, we are often our own charitable cause. But the breast cancer issue strikes home for me.

So, thanks Karen for your hard work and many miles. You carried a figurative torch for many women who you'll never meet--including my mom, Phyllis Sandercock, who died of breast cancer in 1988 when she was just 46.

Seventeen

Seventeen years ago today I finished sewing the buttons onto my wedding dress (while wearing it) on the way to the Douglas County courthouse. I got married in plaid. And that has set the tone for the entire marriage.



We got married on a Friday afternoon with quite a few friends in attendance. No family. Then we went back to our apartment to eat homemade pizza and drink champagne.

I had asked our friend Lars (potter, photographer, Grinnell grad) to take pictures of the wedding guests. We had everyone strip the clothes from their shoulders and have pictures taken that displayed their "unadorned essence," as he described it. The majority of the photos are in black and white, with a beautiful, soft focus.

These photos really tell a story. One couple used the occasion to declare their togetherness --they were married about 18 months later, so must have recently celebrated a 15th anniversary. Most of the other couples in the pictures are no longer together.

I didn't think to look for the photo album until tonight and I can't find it, but I did locate one of the early photos taken with the last of the color film. I was barely 22 and The Artist was 25.

Holes

Today we headed to Portland so that The Star could get yet another piercing. This one is just in her ear lobe, above the first one, but nothing extreme.

It surprised her to be reminded that once I had had three holes in each lobe and one in the cartilage at the top of my ear, apparently known as the pinna. I never thought of it as "body modification"--it was the just the 80s and all those earrings helped to balance all those bracelets.

I also shared my ear piercing story:

During the summer I was 15, I was dropped off at the Bend River Mall with my best friend Becky Smith (known to my kids as Becky 2, since she was the second of three BFFs with that name) to get our ears pierced, the second set of holes for both of us. But it turns out that we needed to have a signed permission slip, since we weren't yet 16. What to do?

I had a friend who was 21 or 22 at the time who worked at the K-Mart in the same mall. The girl at the jewelry store knew him and said that all she needed was an adult signature on the forms. So we hurried to the paint department at the K-Mart, found Kelly and convinced him to sign our permission slips. Voila!

Today I had to allow my actual drivers license to be photocopied on the back side of the form that both The Star and I had to sign.

A few other things about Kelly: He took me to see Footloose on the day it opened. He drove a very old Volkswagen that had no heat. He kissed me--a few times. We went to an under-21 dance club in Portland (Confetti's?) when he was 25 and I was 18. His birthday is March 17, St. Patrick's Day. He once claimed that he was gay to get out of a difficult, intense relationship with a woman (not me). He may really have been gay.

I haven't seen Kelly since 1988. Googling him immediately brought me to his Facebook--he's still living in Portland. Funny how the holes in your past can be so quickly filled.

Friended

Today I got a Facebook friend request from Teri. We went to both middle school and high school together. I have a bunch of Teri memories but three stand out in particular.

• In sixth grade, our entire class took the bus from Bend to Portland for a multi-day field trip. We slept overnight in the basement of OMSI, the Oregon Museum of Science and Industry, back when it was near the zoo (today that building is the Children's Museum) and went to everything from the Oregon Historical Society to Fort Vancouver. At the Fort, Teri was very disappointed to find out that it was actually a reconstruction of the 19th Century Hudson's Bay Company fur trading emporium, not "the real thing." She pretty much dismissed the entire place. I'm not sure why this tiny incident made an impression that should last 25 years, but now that I work at this site, it seems funny to me.
  

• Also in middle school, perhaps in 7th grade, I was over-tired and had a huge meltdown one night. I remember crying bitterly that "Teri F____ is my BEST FRIEND, and she doesn't even know who I am!" Oh, the angst that is 13. I'm sure Teri knew who I was--we were in many of the same, advanced classes--and I'm equally sure (now) that my breakdown was not directly related to her or anything that she had done.

• In 1986 Teri's mother moved away from Oregon. We were both seniors in high school and I was going to be going to Finland for my exchange year. I'm not sure how it came up, but I think I was the one to suggest that Teri live with my mom that year. By this time we were definitely friends, maybe not BFFs, but close enough that I trusted her to live with my mother when I was gone. My mom was very sick by now and I thought having a surrogate daughter was a good idea. It really wasn't necessary and I don't think either of them enjoyed the situation.

I saw Teri last summer at our high school reunion. She flew in from Japan (awesome!) just for the occasion and we were able to finally talk about that time 20 years ago and about my mom, her illness and death. It always helps me to talk with someone who knew her--it seems like there are fewer of those people every day and I worry that I'm losing my own memories of my mom. I haven't been able to hear her voice in my head for a decade now, although I'm sure I would recognize it if I heard it again.

Some people are good at keeping in touch. I'm not one of them, but Teri is. She sent me a Christmas card last year following reunion--I didn't so much as send an email. But we're still friends and I have Facebook to back me up on it.

The One Where I Cheat Make an Arbitrary Rule

• It is 12:26am on Monday in Pittsburgh. But the clock in my computer says it's still just Sunday evening. So I haven't yet failed NaBloPoMo. Or at least that's my story, and I'm sticking to it. All NaBloPoMo posts will be made in Pacific Standard Time.

• I'm staying at the Hilton, close to Heinz stadium where the Steelers play. Today was a home game and the hotel lobby was filled with fans, all in black and gold. This reminds me of Matt Sabo, the boy I had a crush on in 3rd and 4th grade. In 3rd grade, Mrs. Shepard's class, he was a Pittsburgh Steeler for the Halloween parade. Quick Google search only turns up that he seems to have written for the Oregonian and now may be a journalist in Virginia. Sounds right. I've always liked smart boys.
  

• Although I bought the book in September, I had been avoiding reading Twilight (yes, sexy teen vampire lit--and no, I'm not going to link to Amazon.com, you know the book I mean). I knew that I'd be close to obsessed and couldn't spare the time from studying. So I read it yesterday on the plane--and until about 2am Pittsburgh time. I'm taking Friday off from work since I get in so late on Thursday. And I'm thinking about going to see the movie in the afternoon by myself. Clearly obsessed. Edwaaaard!!!

Obligatory No on 8 Post

As far as I know, I don't have any readers in California. And if I did, I'm sure they would already be voting No on 8. But it's a very important issue--one I'll be watching nearly as closely as the presidential election.

I attended Grinnell College in Iowa, a school I picked partially based on Lisa Birnbach's College Book. Within the first week of school, two things happened. I 1) hooked up with the guy that would be my boyfriend for the next four years and 2) joined the Grinnell College Gay Community. I'm unpredictable like that.

In mid-October 1987, just a couple of weeks before my 18th birthday, I hoped in a van with my fellow gays and allies and drove to Washington, DC for the National March on Washington for Lesbian and Gay Rights.



See me? I'm in the front row wearing the red sweatshirt. Our banner is subtitled "the San Francisco of the Midwest."

Here I am again with my friend Scott:



For the second half of high school and the first year of college, I identified as bisexual. I had never had a girlfriend, only a couple of boyfriends, but I really thought that I was an equal opportunity lover.

Realizing that I was straight was a coming out process for me. It wasn't what I wanted really, but I had to own up to my biological imperative. I finally had to admit that I was born this way.

This sounds facetious, but I'm dead serious. I was living in a very open, welcoming community. Many of my friends were out--or came out--as gay or lesbian in those days. And I really wanted to be part of that. But college is the time to learn about yourself, and to accept yourself as who you are.

And so I accepted that I was straight and didn't think about any missed opportunities when I married The Artist, just six months after first meeting him.

Getting married was easy. A trip to the courthouse, sign some papers and head back to the apartment to make homemade pizza and drink champagne with our closest friends. And I think it should be that easy for everyone, regardless of their gender. Because we all know that the wedding is just the beginning. A marriage means work, commitment, compromise--and everyone deserves a chance to see if they have what it takes.

The Easy Way Out

Many things in my life are begging for a lengthy blog, but I seem to think I'm too busy for that. So in the age-old tradition of blog cop-outs, I give you the Bulleted List...

• I just attended my 20th high school reunion! And had a blast! I've been highly recommending a 20 year reunion all week to my slightly younger friends. Everyone at my reunion (about a third of the class) was warm and friendly. They remembered me -- and were happy to see me. Everyone talked to everyone--no hints of crowds and cliques and past rivalries. I saw one of my very best HS friends and learned she lives in the Portland area. I danced until the DJ called it quits and everyone had to leave.

• The 3rd annual Fiber Arts show opens on Friday and my quilt is in the front window of the gallery. It's the primo spot and says something about my work--or maybe it's just because the gallery director is my friend. Speaking of friends, fabulous Maureen is the featured artist this month, so I made her a cute skirt for Friday's opening.

• I had a job interview (the first one) a few weeks ago for the Wash. State Dept. of Transportation. I thought it went well, but they sent me an email that they had chosen not to fill the position at this time.

• I went to Colorado and saw where my dad had his accident and viewed his body. With my time alone with him, I told him how disappointed I was in his behavior over the last decade (or three). Then, a few weeks later, I took the kids down to San Jose for his funeral service and picnic. If I can get The Artist's van brakes fixed, I'm headed back to California next week to pick up some stuff--my final obligation.
  

• I bought silver platform shoes for my reunion--which will also be good if I ever go to an ABBA costume party.

• Yesterday I went to happy hour margaritas and $.99 tacos overlooking the Columbia River with the Gallery Director and the Art Groupie. It amazes me that I have such lovely friends. Thank you universe!

No. 3: Contact old friends

I'm two months behind on my goal of writing a letter every month. But March's letter did get written (by hand even) and mailed. Fiona earned the letter by first sending me an unexpected gift. She mailed me a copy of Coco Jones' new self-published art book, Jesus on the Moon.

Fiona is my friend from the year I lived in Canada. Her younger daughter was in The Star's class and she started inviting me to her house for coffee. Fiona is one of these people who is so energetic and charismatic that you can't help but love her. I know I do.

Today my brain won't seem to create a real paragraph, so I'll just bullet point some fabulous things about fabulous Fiona:

• Fiona turned 40 in February the year I lived on Vancouver Island. I got to create her invitation, which was a polygon pop card that included childhood photos and a picture of Gary Glitter. It was meant to remind the guests of a disco ball. She must have had two hundred people at this party over the course of the night--it even included a live band in her basement. I don't know a tenth of that many people, but I still aspire to host a 40th birthday party that is as much fun.

• I went to Vancouver (the other Vancouver--in Canada) twice with Fiona. The first time we went to see James Van Praagh, the renowned psychic. The second time, we celebrated Canada Day on Granville Island.
  

• Fiona left her husband, had some adventures, and got back together with him. Then, when her older daughters were 12 and 14, she had another baby. Incredible. And quite inspiring until I came to my senses.

• She is a yogi and a midwife. IF I ever had another baby, I would want her on my team.

• Fiona is the reason for 40x40 Goal No. 14: get back to Vancouver Island.

So, Fi, thanks for the book and helping me closer to one of my goals: Write a Letter Every Month. You rock!

This Week's News

It shocks me a little bit, but I've made friends in Vancouver. Fabulous women with interesting stories and sympathetic ears and mad creative skillz. Yea, me! I took the afternoon off from work yesterday to look after my sick kid, but then I abandoned him and went out for happy hour. I'm a baad, baad mom.

In other news:

• I made a papier mache bowl for the gallery's Cut and Paste show. Since I donated it to the gallery, there was no chance of it not getting juried into the show--and no chance that I have to let it back into my house.
• The Artist painted our front door "tractor red" for Valentine's Day. It looks great. I think it's because he "a-doors" me.
• The Magician is out of school for the third day with fever and cough. Last night we gave him some codeine-laced cough medicine and he slept for 12 hours.
• The Star had her workshop/interview for the arts magnet high school. (I'm old enough to have a child in high school!)
• My landlady has "secretly" put my house up for sale. The ad does not mention the newly painted front door or the bazillion freakin ants, but does call us "excellent" renters.
• I'm starting to collect/write fortunes for my fortune cookies (No. 19 on The List). I may make some of them "misfortune cookies." And I'm also trying to figure out how to make this a fiber art project.
• Fifteen minutes ago, I was handed a surprise bonus check for $1000.



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PREVIOUS COMMENTS





Woohoo on getting things done, making friends, and surprise checks! We a-door you too, even if you have a child in high school.

rosie Homepage 02.18.07 - 2:05 pm

how the hell does one get a surprise bonus check? I want one.

Rikki 02.19.07 - 3:59 pm

2007: New and Improved

Like many others, I too love the beginning of a new year. For one thing, I don't have a major gift-giving holiday until September. Because Valentine's Day, Mother's Day, and Father's Day--ehh.

So now is the time to pay my past-due bills and organize to pay the new bills on time. Why is this so hard? I make more money now than I ever have before--but it's not enough. I also see that this may be the Year of the Job Hunter. Shit--everyone is going to be looking for a job?! Competition! Humiliation! Failure! and perhaps eventually, unwarrented Success!

The last few weeks were awesome. I took a few vacation days, so had a total of ten days off. In. A. Row. That rocked. I slept in, I puttered in the kitchen, I did some shopping, I took the kids to Portland. But I didn't make soap, organize my sewing or create a Website for The Artist. Maybe if I had another ten days--that weren't interrepted by parties.

That's right. Parties. Our family now has a Social Life. We attended a Solstice Party--complete with outdoor fire pit--and a New Year's Eve Party--with participation games. I've never seen The Artist act out random words before and let me tell you--his rendition of "barcode" is pretty funny.

I'll be breaking out the ASPIRE Grid soon and will share my goals for 2007. As a teaser, I'll just let you know that it includes Cherry, my new bicycle.

2006 was a somewhat difficult year and I'm ready for something better. All hail 2007!

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PREVIOUS COMMENTS


Yay for new years!
rikki Homepage 01.04.07 - 6:57 am

I hear ya Sister. 2006 couldn't end soon enough. And YES, I will be in Portland in June - it will be great to see a friendly face
rosie Homepage 01.26.07 - 8:00 am