I've recently recanted my lifelong conviction that everything I own should have some quirky charm. Okay, I'm not giving up the Hello Kitty toaster anytime soon (besides, it's actually Krissy's), but I'm finding my own compulsion to package myself in oddness exhausting. I want a uniform, I want to get up and put on a black skirt and a white shirt and go play in the orchestra or wait tables or do something that people dressed that way do. So several of those big trash bags now have been filled with clothing items that I formerly believed were charming but found, when I actually tried them on in front of a mirror with the lights on and wearing corrective lenses, look like sad droopy hippy clothes and are actually pretty much the opposite of charming and oh, did I mention, I DON'T ACTUALLY EVER WEAR THEM. So I'm on a mission now to eliminate anything that resembles clutter. This is difficult. I have this tenderness for objects, which I think I inherited from my mother who liked things much more than she liked people - well, not even a close call as she didn't care much for people - but I'm on it now and I think the key is going to be the uniform. But here's where I run into an immediate obstacle because black is the obvious choice, right? Chic and foolproof, always matches, but I have animals and therefore random fur running around sticking itself to me plus I tend to get dirty. I mean, seriously, I come home with leaves and twigs stuck in my hair. I am not chic. I am...odd. Which is how I got into this whole situation in the first place, where I want being odd to seem like a deliberate choice rather than a disaster inflicted on me and hence the packaging with charming and eccentric stuff. I am one of those people who trips on a crack in the sidewalk and starts tap dancing to make it look intentional. My new goal is to be one of those people who steps OVER the crack in the sidewalk, and I'm convinced there's a costume for that. And if I don't figure out what it is very soon I'll be entirely naked. 

I'm passionate about the second law of thermodynamics.

We've recently been talking about getting rid of the storage space we rent, which means getting rid of the stuff in the storage space, which means getting rid of a lot of stuff in our house so that other things will have a place to be, which is all very traumatic for me. I've lived here for too long I think - my life used to be more spare because I moved fairly often and jettisoned everything that wasn't essential each time I changed houses. I have 8 years of not moving to a new house to contend with. I have boxes in the basement that I haven't opened since I moved here from San Diego. I know that if I open the boxes I'll find things I don't want to get rid of, but I no longer know what's in those boxes. 

I'm just starting this month's cards, so this post is just a placeholder for anyone who needs/wants to talk with others involved. Everyone else, feel free to ignore this.

I dislike the abrupt interruption of sleep by an alarm clock so much that if I know what time the alarm is set for, I'll wake myself up just before it goes off. I live and sleep with someone who has a crush on the snooze alarm. Can you see where this is going? For Krissy, it's like the luxury of being cozy in bed drifting in and out of sleep is prolonged for half an hour or so. For me, it's like being tortured every five minutes, not being able to sleep even though I don't need to be awake for another half hour and I could ACTUALLY BE SLEEPING. Here is where my ability to wake myself up pre-alarm comes in very handy and keeps me from bopping the person I love in the head once a day. Another aspect of this issue is that we have an adorable alarm clock that makes a horrid sound. Over and over and over again. When I could be sleeping. But it isn't just about the sound - I used to have one of those lovely Zen alarm clocks but I didn't care for that either. Still woke myself in self-defense before it went off.

Yesterday I had to stop at the bank and I was going to do it on my way to pick  Little Bit up at her school. But there was a tree trimming event going on with trucks blocking the narrow road up behind the lake that I always take, so I listened to NPR and looked through the cookbook I had brought with me - I brought it to read in the parking lot at her school because I always plan to get there early. After I picked her up we stopped at the bank to use the ATM outside. It's the kind you have to walk up to and we had to park pretty far away and there was a line, so we played in the grass and leaves for awhile and then the line went away. Then we walked over to the lake which is just a few blocks away, and she wanted to play with sticks, which she adores, so we sat down in the bird sanctuary and she paced and sat and gathered sticks and broke them and I helped her find just the right sticks and looked at my book for a while and asked her which things she thought she might like to try. When you ask her something you have to be patient about getting an answer - she'll repeat your question back to you and sometimes you have to rephrase things a few different ways and then wait.  Sometimes we play games - I have jax in my truck, and a paddle ball and a jump rope. We've tried games like Sorry and Parcheesi and the process is very time intensive, especially at first. Sometimes we just attempt things without making any real progress for an hour or longer. And that's fine. Sometimes the progress just isn't showing through yet, and sometimes it isn't really there but the trying is a thing in itself. Wherever I go I take a book and a notebook and usually my camera with me. I always leave plenty of time, always get where I'm going early, always have something to play with. I don't exacty think of it as waiting, I think of it as what I'm doing before I do the next thing. Being willing to take time for things removes all that stress that wads up people's faces in traffic. It's a useful skill I think.

I want to say something about this thing that is so beyond words and so talked about to pieces already, but I still have to say something. I'm not sure if it matters that I don't have anything special to add, if it's already all been said, just like I'm not sure my vote made the slightest bit of difference but oh my god, I'm so glad I voted. This was one of the most pivotal moments in history, this election, and I got to be here for it. I think all the cynicism has been washed out of me with the happy tears from last night and this morning and oh, right this minute, because every time I think about it I'm overwhelmed. I'm so proud of us all. And I'm not just proud because we decided not to be a nation of bigots anymore, although I am proud of that because does everyone realize, the Civil Rights Act was only passed in 1964 and now we have a black president and is there anyone who doesn't feel proud of that kind of national enlightenment, but because the nice people won. Goodness and peace and compassion and kindness got voted into office, and since I'm not Michelle Obama and I don't have to stand up to public scrutiny I can say this fealessly: for the first time in my life I feel proud of my country. 

Feeling a little funky today, just a bit of a cold and tummy not feeling well, so soup seemed like just the thing. Sauted celery, carrot, onion and garlic, added cumin and oregano, the yellow lentils, half a serrano pepper chopped up and water and cooked them for about 40 minutes, then added parsley and salt. Yummy stuff. Drizzled some lemon over it just before eating - fabulous, cheap, pretty, and I almost feel better now. 

Give me half a chance and I'll find some reason to talk about food. Cooking it, eating it, looking at it, sharing it - I'm very opinionated about food. I think it should be delicious and beautiful and healthy. I even cook for our animals - brown rice and lentils and greens, the greens not cooked but whizzed in the food processor and then added to the other part with all their enzymes still intact. Dogs and cats can't break down the cellulose walls of veggies so they have to get them either from the food processor or from the belly of animal they've caught and gutted, but that latter choice creeps me out a bit so I go with the food processor.