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A Face That Launched A Thousand Ships…

…in the other direction.

I felt a sharp pain in my eye on Sunday while in the shower, so naturally I assumed it was somehow my own stupidity, getting some soap or shampoo or facial cleanser in there, though part of my brain knew it was a different kind of pain.

Monday, I woke up to discover that what had been a couple of pimples on the mend had suddenly erupted.  As in, went the other direction in a hurry. Perplexed, yes. Eye? Still hurt. Kinda red.  Kept to myself.Made it through the day, came home, did usual life stuff, went to bed. Woke up on Tuesday, to discover worsened sores, and spots that had felt sort of like pimples on the verge? Turning into gaping weeping wounds. With my eyes now sporting shades of pink and red. Covered everything with makeup, went to work, again, kept to myself as much as possible, worked through lunch again, kept on trucking. We have a big new business meeting on Friday, so there was looots to be done.  A rep friend of mine stopped by, and upon seeing me, burst out with, “What the fuck is wrong with you?”

And friends? That’s the bluntness and shock I needed to hear. (Let me note for the record my husband told me I should go to the doctor on Monday.)  Because I was minimizing it like crazy. My eyes were weepy and swollen, not to mention the sores I was sporting on my nose and chin, and while I could have just seen her behavior as overreaction, I was starting to feel so bad, I conceded I could at least get myself to a Minute Clinic, once I got some more work done.

The first Minute Clinic I went to was up by Roe & I-35, Roeland Park. Technically the closest to my workplace. Annnnd it turns out, they arbitrarily closed at 4 that day. So I punted off to 75th & Metcalf, only to be told by the RPAC there, who looked at me with a little bit of horror, that she could do absolutely nothing for me, and I should go to Sunflower Medical Group’s urgent care…. back over in Roeland Park. I was almost in tears leaving the CVS, because I’d just come from there, and blah blah blah, let’s just say, things were getting a little more fragile.

Can’t say enough good things about the folks at the Sunflower Medical Group. The nurse was extremely nice, and then the doctor – oh my goodness, it was like the Wizard of Oz himself came in to see me. A slight build, bald head, glasses, quite the jovial sort, and he declared I not only had pinkeye in one, but redeye in the other. His diagnosis was a staph infection (which can then cause conjunctivitis in your eye(s)), and we’re still waiting for the test results to make sure it’s not the crazy drug-resistant strain of staph.  In the meantime, I have eyedrops and an antibiotic that targets skin, and a few more bumps and blisters have popped up.

(Confidential to the checkout girl at CVS on 79th & State Line: Staring is impolite. Staring once, given my condition, I get it. But every time I looked away? Your momma should have raised you better. And I find it hard to believe that even in my condition, I am the only stare-worthy person to come up to your register.) It was all I could do not to tell her to get her fuckin’ camera phone out and take a picture so she could keep staring after I left.

To say I’m a  little brittle right now might be appropriate. I started wearing bandages to work, since I felt a little relieved this wasn’t just “Jennifer has bad acne” but my eyes…. oh lordy, if they’re the window to the soul on normal days, mine have been the portals to hell this week. And this morning, they were so light-sensitive, I practically crawled into work, having had to stop and cry from the sunshine,  and then resume driving like a little old lady – which you KNOW I abhor doing.

Needless to say, I’m not attending the new business pitch tomorrow, and I’ll be working from home.  My part in the meeting was less than 10 minutes, actually. Still tough for me, though. I understand getting benched when you’re out of commission, but my force of will is so much that I think anything’s conquerable.  Howver, I can see how the bandaged, weepy-eyed person in the room might leave an unintended impression, too.

I’ve learned a lot about staph infections, though – you can get them anywhere, anytime, the bacteria can live on towels (and you can spread it around that way), you have it living on your skin right now, in fact. But a bug bite, or scratch, or pimple, any sort of ‘opening’ can give it a new home, and if you’re weak (stressed, low immunity, etc.) it can flourish.  In fact, I think it can even be spread through blogs, so you should really Lysol yourself after reading this. And if you comment? Bleach. Twice.

Spinning!

For years, JWo has told me I should take up spinning. (This in the face of having more yarn that can be knit in my lifetime – hey, here’s an idea, make more!) I have always maintained that I don’t want to bother with it, since I can go straight to the end result and focus on my main enjoyment, knitting.

Then I had lunch with Beth & Amy. Amy had just finished a morning camp session at Wornall House, where they do all sorts of fun old-timey-time things, and that day’s adventure had included making a spindle from a CD and dowel, and they were spinning some roving into yarn. I watched her demonstrate, then I asked her if I could try it.

DAMMIT. It was mesmerizingly fun. I quickly had a nice long thread of yarn, and knew I had to get myself a spindle of my own, and to see if it was something I really wanted to do.

First Yarn:

First Spinning Project Ever!

This was my first real attempt, with nobody even watching. I looked at a video online, all five minutes of it, and then just threw myself into it. Fortunately, the Sunflower Knitters Guild was around the corner, and I took all my stuff with me there, to get some input and advice from Teri. She’s done loads of yarn just using a spindle, and she, among others, praised my first efforts, and she demoed how she spins for me. Roving by Lorna’s Laces. Plyed to itself on top; single below. Whee! That led to this:

Second Spinning Project

I’m using a Louet spindle I got from The Loopy Ewe, which is rather clunky and doesn’t spin nearly fast or long enough, we determined this past Friday night. The fiber is Corriedale from The Studio, hand-dyed by Jacey of Insubordiknit, and she was also cheering my efforts on.  I finished spinning it all yesterday and am waiting to figure out my plying options. I even got invited to attend last weekend’s Spinster’s gathering, since it was at my friend’s house; I wasn’t able to go, and truth be told, I don’t feel ‘qualified’ at this point. :)  Annnd I’m really trying not to over-embrace it all. There’s soooo much to learn, a wheel is expensive, and didn’t I mention something about already having a lot of yarn? My goal is to make some sock yarn. We’ll see!

Squash for Breakfast?

Yes, it’s possible. And, actually, delicious!

We’re in high harvesting mode with the garden, and while we can always freeze or can the tomatoes, coming up with a new way to eat zucchini or yellow squash can get a bit challenging. A few weeks ago, I remembered one of my favorite breakfast joints in Minneapolis, and how they specialized in egg scrambles loaded with non-traditional breakfast things – namely, vegetables. So I gave it a whirl, and darned if it isn’t just as tasty as I remembered it to be – and now I’ve created my own version, with summer squash!

I’ll admit up front, measurements and precision aren’t my thing when making dishes like this, especially because I think you can be flexible and include what you want. This isn’t a chemistry-based dish, where you need the right amount of leavening agent or a proper ratio with your flour. Experiment yourself! And you can get your veggies in before noon….

Very Veggie Scramble

1 onion, diced

1T vegetable oil

About 3 cups sliced vegetables (I used one small yellow squash and one small zucchini, a few jalapenos and a bag of frozen broccoli. Fresh broccoli is even better. Cauliflower would be delicious, too. Mushrooms. Peppers. You get my drift!)

1 fresh tomato, diced

4-5 eggs, beaten

3/4 cup cheese

salt, pepper to taste

Saute the onion until it’s softened, then add your veggies to the skillet. You want to cook the veggies to a stir-fry consistency, so there’s still some structure and bite in them, not mushy. Right as the veggies are nearing that stage, pour your beaten eggs over the whole thing, and gently stir and turn in the pan, cooking the eggs. Once the eggs are done, I added the tomato and then the cheese. I basically wanted the tomato to get to the same temperature as the dish, but without any further cooking, since it was the softest veggie in the mix. Season to taste – and devour! It reheats well in the microwave, so save your leftovers. You could extend this even further (and add a starch) if you folded in prepared hash browns right before the cheese-melting stage.

Veggie Scramble - finished

If your tomato crop is running over, hubs has a great bruschetta recipe on his tomato blog.  It’s a wonderfully tasty summer appetizer – we made this into dinner one night, it was so good. We used fresh mozzarella, which is definitely more traditional, but if you like goat cheese, I can’t recommend going that route enough. The tangy goat cheese definitely takes it to a whole new level!

Dan and Hillary Got Married!

So,  I am terrifically behind. I haven’t blogged our Cancun vacation, I haven’t blogged the garden, I haven’t blogged, I haven’t updated to the latest WordPress version 2.8.2, which sort of works out since I never did a bunch of those earlier versions either. I have the automatic upgrader installed, but it refuses to cooperate. Shrug. SO I am going to check off one of my promises, which was to my former co-worker, good nerdy gal pal Hillary, that I would blog about her wedding!

Dan & Hillary got married on July 3, 2009, at the rooftop garden downtown atop Cosentino’s Market.  The views were stunning, the plot of grass and trees amid all the steel and glass just felt idyllic. I admit, I also have a soft spot for twinkle lights.  We were on the other end of the building from the much-ballyhooed Jones Pool, and this was the very first event to be held there!

I’ll share my pictures, but I have to warn you: I challenged the hell out of myself and my camera with the night settings, lack-of-tripod, and a sky rapidly approaching dusk. Let’s just go with the fact they captured more the SPIRIT of the event, k?

This was the view from our table:

View from our table

Her bridesmaids came out first, and then Hillary walked in. Here is a photo of the beaming bride, and it looks like I put her into a 1976 television set:

The Bride

Dan and Hillary’s children participated in the ceremony – they were precious! It was a little challenging to hear everything, but the great thing about weddings is that things pretty much roll along and you get pronounced married and everybody cheers and the soft-hearted even shed a few tears of joy, because every wedding reminds you of the day you made similar promises.

May I present the just-married couple!

Just Married!

I think what I loved about this wedding was that it captured the couple’s personality, and the fact that they were already married in their hearts and minds long before they made it legal in the eyes of the state.  And, not to hijack this post about them TOO much, I have to say, it’s just wrong that we still don’t allow gay people to have those same civil rights. My father used to tell me marriage was just a piece of paper, it was what was in your heart that mattered.  Love is love. Gay people, straight people, bi-people, all people, will love each other with or without a piece of paper. With or without the Catholic church, with or without government sanction. What really gets me is the legal fact that without my piece of paper, I could be kept from my husband’s side in the hospital.  Without that piece of paper, no matter how great my love, no matter how many years, shared bank accounts or possessions – the legal system says, “Nope.”  As do the heretics who fear the ‘sanctity of marriage’ being corrupted by Teh Gayz.  Marriage is a ceremony, legal unions are another. If churches want to sanction gay marriage, more power to them. If some churches don’t? Well, sounds like a church that’s probably not worth joining. Legal unions should be available to everyone!

Whew. Sorry Hil. Except I know you’ll understand and agree; this rant has been sitting in me since CA went all prop-8 nuts.

LOVE! It makes the world go ’round. And it’s gorgeous and dizzying on a rooftop.

P.S. – they’re working on a website, but for now, you can just pop over and the page background is an awesome photo of the happy family.  Yay!

Quick Definition of “Kerning”

Far be it from me to even know how to adjust for kerning, I only learned about kerning in recent years. I do understand, though, how one who specializes in typesetting or design of any sort, might go a little crazy when they see bad examples of kerning. We’ve all actually seen it before, just perhaps didn’t know what to call it. (If you don’t wanna click the link, kerning is about proper spacing between letters based on the letters themselves, not just ‘tracking’, which puts the same amount of space between the letters regardless of what they are.)

So, to those people who care about kerning, I must warn you, you are about to wince.

Liver Pool?

This bar used to be…. Billy B’s? Something like that. We’ve never gone in, preferring Creekside (in the same strip mall area).  Whatever ambiance they’re going for, I’m sure not getting “Ye Olde England” from this one…. instead, a rather scary visual of a swimming pool filled with slippery dark-red organs.

Always Ready To Bring The Crazy

Re-entry back to the work world, especially after such a fantastic vacation, is tough. Celebrated my birthday on Monday by going into work….and then each subsequent day brought with it more challenges and projects. Which is great, though I am saying it right now, I will be so happy once we’re completely transitioned to our new billing software and everything is symmetrical!

Our CFO’s birthday was today, and the way treats work, the person who just had their birthday brings in treats for the next person. So I got a Dairy Queen cake. Which was greeted with EXTREME enthusiasm from so many of my co-workers, it kind of surprised me, there were that many superfans among us. Because dude. A DQ cake rocks my world, and I would sing it Michael-Jackson style to prove it.

So we had big pieces for everyone, and then later we had a conference call. I think it was partly a sugar high, but partly me just cutting loose and being wonky for laughs. We were in our creative director’s office, waiting for a conference call to start. I started looking around, and espied two pairs of ski goggles hanging from his coat tree. (We used to have an account that made these things.) I noticed one of them had rose-colored lenses. What wouldn’t be more perfect than rose-colored glasses, for a 4:20 conference call? NOTHING! My co-workers were laughing and my pal Tommy snapped a shot for posterity.

BringingTheCrazy

Not quite all-the-way grown-up yet. May not ever actually get there, either.

Home from Cancun….

….and what a fantastic vacation it was. More on it, of course, with pictures, but here are my bullet points from yesterday’s day o’ travel.

– Reward travel sucks, because they put you on the killer flights, as in, 7:25 a.m departure, so you are getting up at 3:45 a.m. for a shuttle.

-Cancun Airport TSA would like the world to know that KNITTING NEEDLES ARE DEADLY. The very dour Julia told me to go put them in my checked luggage as they could absolutely not go on the plane. (Addi Turbo Lace circs, #4s, about as deadly as pencils or a belt, but ok.) FYI, one’s luggage is not sitting around waiting for you to put it back in, but thanks for the hike, Julia. Also, FYI, if you try a different security line with your knitting needles, they will still take them. I thought I’d try it, since Julia was also extremely concerned about my bar of Christopher Elbow chocolate (made me open it to show it was, indeed, chocolate.) So I initially thought she was being a gigantic beyotch and thus upon seeing the second security lane open, thought, ‘What the hell’. Told JWo after the fact “I had a plan,” even though I really didn’t, I was going to feign stupidity and confusion, I think. In the back of my mind, I knew that $15 needles were not worth ending up in a Mexican prison over (nor were they worth spending $50 to check them!) Please recall the time of day. JWo felt bad and bought me a bottle of Bombay Sapphire at the duty-free shop. Along with four other bottles of booze, because criminy, duty-free airport booze is CHEAP. (Kahlua – $13!)

-Gotta love my honest husband who told the customs agent as we were funneling through after retrieving our luggage that we had 10 bottles of booze. (Five more we’d packed in our luggage, purchased prior to the airport.) Turns out we’d gotten into the Very Anal Customs Agent line, and even though we told him some of the bottles were small (they were!), he said something about seeing just how small they were and made us go into the Here We Search And Grill Ye Customs Department. There were approximately 75 people in the non-residents line, and as we entered with our carts of luggage, we were beckoned straight up to an agent, since we were, quite obviously, the only US Citizens in the HWSAGYCD.

-I will not use this agent’s name, but let me tell you, he looked like he could send us to Pound Us In The Ass US Prison without blinking. A BMF, for all you Pulp Fiction aficionados. James handed him our declaration form, that VACA had scrawled over with red ink, indicating we were here because we had ten bottles of alcohol. This very intimidating agent seemed to be struggling to contain his amusement. “Ten bottles of liquor?” We nodded. We were then informed that as Missouri residents, we were only allowed to bring in EIGHT bottles (four apiece), and as we sort of gosh-gollyed stammered our responses, he continued, informing us that Texans are only allowed one. Continuing to half-smile, but looking like he was trying not to bust out laughing, he informed us that yes, he could collect some tax from us, but really, that’s a lot of paperwork and that’s not what his purpose was, his job there today. I also got the impression that perhaps he was a bit irritated with the Very Anal Customs Agent for having even bothered him with something so trivial. He waved us towards the exit and we gushed our thanks. Oh, Julia? You could learn something from this man.

-As we exited, we found ourselves flanked by some returning military folks, and at the sight of them, two grandma-type volunteers, dressed in red, white & blue, waving patriotic pom-poms began whooping and cheering. I smiled, because I thought that was pretty cool, but then as we started to turn to the area to re-pack our luggage, I looked back and saw the grandmas were in the airport section, but beyond them was a big room, with a double door, and lined up inside were all the families waiting for their family member, pressed up as close to the door and one another as they could be, eagerly waiting for the soldier they knew was coming (thanks to the whooping grannies) to round the corner to see if he or she belonged to them. I get a lump in my throat just typing about it, because it was such raw, aching joy and love, palpable even from 20 feet away. We got an even better perspective when we arrived home in Kansas City, standing by the baggage carousel – one soldier on our flight was waiting for his bag, and he and his girlfriend were entwined, he finally just picked her up and held her piggy-back style, holding her legs, her arms around his neck. Turns out he’d been in Iraq, and they hadn’t seen each other for four years.

Happy Independence Day, indeed.

Always Whirring.

My brain, it whirs. It whirs and whirs and puzzles and questions and wonders. I see really crazy people and I wonder what their living rooms look like. I enjoy deciphering vanity plates, and am often amused by the assortment of bumperstickers people will affix to their car.

So when I found myself behind this truck the other evening, my brain kicked it into high gear.

Hmmmmm

Ah, lassie, thar’s a Shamrock. Hmmmm. Irish? But it’s on a black truck. Hmmm. Black Irish. In flames? That’s kinda strange, plant life on fire, but the flames are green, so maybe it’s symbolic, and back to that shamrock, hmmmmm…..
And then the truck pulled into my lane, and as the light shifted, I realized there were SKULLS ON EITHER SIDE OF THE SHAMROCK and that’s when I had to put my phone on camera mode, because boy, howdy, you might see a shamrock, and you might see green flames, and you might even see a shamrock with green flames, but skulls haunting out of the flames on top of it all? Dude, that is what makes the difference between bloggability and the brain just whirring.

Yeah, You’re A HUGE Help There, Buddy.

Have you seen this commercial?

The first time we saw it, we both sort of looked at each other in an amused, panicked sort of way, as we misplace objects in unusual places all the freakin’ time. NOW. Before I continue, let it be known I am not making light of Alzheimer’s at all. I know several friends who have and continue to cope with their parent(s) going through it. And I realize there’s a difference between me losing a piece of paper vs. someone with the actual disease. What started to really bug me about this commercial was this:
Wife is obviously searching for her keys. Husband is reading the paper on the couch. What does he say? “I’ll help you look.” AND GOES AND POURS HIMSELF A CUP OF COFFEE. Yes, I realize it’s a plot device. But I noticed it after a couple more times I saw the spot, and I went, “You fucker, you’re not helping her at all! You’re getting some coffee! This is all designed to get you into the fridge so you can see the keys behind the creamer!”
Now, the look on his face when he sees the keys is a heartbreaking mix of emotions and the casting was fantastic, they both seem quite sweet, as if they spend every winter doing dinner theater as Mr. and Mrs. Claus. But I still find myself snarking a little bit when I see it.

So it’s eleventy-billion degrees out…

…and I am very grateful to the person who invented air conditioning! Gah! We’re under an extreme heat warning now through Wednesday, as our mid-to-upper 90’s are combining with our excessive humidity and making it feel like, I don’t know, EXPLOSIVE, in both Celsius and Farenheit.

The heat also makes tempers a little shorter, I think. I just fired off an email to some feller over in Roeland Park KS who has used some service that keeps autodialing me with a recorded message pushing his city council campaign. First of all? I am at work and it’s not legal to telemarket or call people at their place of business. Two? I’m in freakin’ MISSOURI, so I can’t even vote for you. STOP IT.

Got through Father’s Day… we watched The Curious Case of Benjamin Button on Saturday night, and that made me teary, as did numerous other things all weekend long. Heightened sensitivities, to be expected, I guess. I’m irritated with social media turning into one giant playground, with people friending and unfriending and blocking and behaving like it’s high school. Oddly enough, they end up being the ones looking foolish, so there’s hope the universe isn’t devolving as quickly as it feels, sometimes. I’m irritated that my insurance company kicked back a bill for a mammogram because it had the layer of diagnostics attached to it. I see. Yes, Yes, I should have to pay out-of-pocket for more expensive x-rays and a sonogram, since we were checking a lump – if everything’s a-ok, then it’s covered. If you THINK you might have cancer, we don’t want to cover that, we’ll just pay for tests when you’re healthy. Logic. The insurance industry Does Not Have It. Actually, after a call to them this morning, and being put on hold a few times, resulted in a ‘re-evaluation’ and the conclusion that it was processed incorrectly. Ya think?

What’s to be cheerful about? Well, vacation is approaching, and the new pool is up, full, and not leaking. Thank heavens. And I’ll be turning the page on the ol’ Calendar of Life in a couple weeks – I do still enjoy the b’day celebrations. All the plants are bursting along in the garden – hubs started a gardening blog, you’ll have to check it out: http://kctomatotimes.wordpress.com/ The man knows a lot about gardening, that’s for sure!

We have an abundance of basil, so I made pesto yesterday, and then contemplated the abundance of Thai basil that we have. It all got whacked, so it will continue to thrive and grow and not put effort into creating seed, so everything got a healthy trim. There is one basil variety that has a strong licorice taste to it, so I got creative and boiled the leaves and stems with about three cups of sugar and three cups of water. Let it cool, strained it into a mason jar, and popped it in the fridge. Made a cocktail combining about 3 parts Basil Syrup to 2 parts Gin, and a squeeze of lime. Shake on ice, strain into a martini glass. It was sweet, but with enough tang and flavor to not be syrupy. I’m thinking about trying it in some pineapple juice next!

I need to decide what knitting project is going along to Mexico with me, and what the pattern should be. I want to do something lacey, maybe with some of the Handmaiden Sea Silk I have in my stash, and I want a pattern that’s visually entertaining but not mentally taxing, but not feather-and-fan, either. Hrmph. Suggestions?

Alrighty, that’s the report for today. Hope you’re staying cool, wherever you are, and your positives are greater than your irks!

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