Summertime

Not quite. We went camping for Memorial Day Weekend and according to some sort of Weather Law (applying to camping, long weekends, or both), it rained the entire time. Actually, we were boating but it seemed a lot like camping because the canvas leaks. drip ... drip ... Oh, and the microwave conked out so cooking was limited to our one-burner butane stove for the most part. Oh yea, weenies. Again.

You either have to hole up in the tent/boat for days on end or you have to gear up and venture out. I didn't have rain pants or another pair of shoes so even though I had plenty of socks, hats, and rain jackets, I was always somewhere on the scale between damp and damper. (Good thing it wasn't very cold or things could have been really miserable.)

We left Thursday, got home Monday, all our clothes wet. The boat is even wetter. Between the drips and the comings and goings, there was no way to keep the cockpit dry. It stayed pretty warm and dry down below but if it doesn't stop raining soon, the outdoor carpeting will sour something nasty. We'll take warm showers, wash our clothes, dry out. But I can't imagine the boat ever drying out. (I'm thinking it may be easier to buy a new boat than to clean this one after the long, wet weekend.)

For all the rain, we still had a good time. I read a lot but I also managed to take something like 300 photos. We cruised with close to 50 other boats and approximately 250 people. We wore funny hats, roasted 30 whole salmon on planks over a giant fire pit, had pony rides for the kids (no kidding), had toy sailboat races, potluck dinner, pancake breakfast, 500 hot dogs, and more beer than we could drink. It took a small U-Haul to deliver all the food. Although everyone probably has a runny nose, no one got hurt, no one fell in the water. (This group wasn't so lucky last year.)

I've already uploaded over 200 photos to a Shutterfly account. I'll do the rest right after I take a shower and put on something cozy. We're home now and mostly unpacked. Ate lunch and will get the laundry started. Time to get ready for the work week.

But here's a hint for next time: If you come home with clean underwear it means whatever you're wearing probably isn't.

Pearly Greys

Got a pat on the back from my dental hygienist today. She complimented me on my fine job of flossing in the last six months. This, just before scraping them until my gums bled. What's the point, I wondered, of setting a Floss Alarm?

True, my phone is set to ring every night at 9 pm to remind me to floss because my brain seems hardwired to overlook this daily task, much like taking multi-vitamins.

Ring, ring.
Is that your phone ringing?
No, floss alarm....

Who still goes to the dentist, every six months, besides me? I have to image that unless you have dental coverage under some insurance plan the answer is Nobody. I pondered this question while contemplating how to swallow with an assortment of fingers and instruments hanging out of my mouth. I wondered why I wasn't seeing someone in cosmetic dentistry rather than my family dentist. As it turns out I'm the only one in the family that sees this dentist, so why not? It sure sounds preferable to scraping plaque. Cosmetic dentistry sounds spa-like - and you know how I like my spa time.

According to the Consumer Guide to Dentistry:

...traditional dentistry focuses on oral hygiene and preventing, diagnosing and treating oral disease, cosmetic dentistry focuses on improving the appearance of a person's teeth, mouth and smile.

Doesn't that seem less painful? Doesn't that appeal to your my vanity? Why bother with oral hygiene and preventing, diagnosing and treating oral disease (scrape, scrape, scrape), when I could have a pretty smile? (As if those two goals were mutually exclusive....)

What difference would it make? Right after I got my pearly whites all polished up (for which I paid, out of pocket, good money), I had a nice cup of coffee just for spite, followed by a glass of red wine with dinner. I don't know why I did this, exactly. Maybe it's because all I got was a blue toothbrush and some floss in my goody bag. (Yes, they still give those out even if you're well past the age of eleven.)

Maybe if I didn't rush to stain them, I'd get a lollipop as well.

Cheers.

Sunday

It's Friday. We're almost there.

I think the days of the week are somewhat like the newspaper delivery. (For those of you who don't get newspaper delivery, it's an antiquated method of delivering news and information, daily, on paper. The print rubs off on your fingers, and the paper itself lines pet cages or compost bins, or ends up in the recycle bin, sometimes without being read. It comes in sections which makes for easy sharing. It's a quiet indulgence, free of electronics. But I digress....)

The newspaper parallels my expectations for each day of the week. Sunday is the ultimate, plump and fluffy with the promise of a lazy day. Jammies, coffee, feet up, no deadlines - except the one imposed by Monday. Slim, devoid of everything that Sunday was made of. But Tuesday's paper is a little thicker, as are the following days' (do they have names?), building, always building, to the Sunday paper and the fat pleasure of the day.

So, congratulations. We've made it to Friday. But, hang in there, the big payoff is still two days away.

(Thanks, Teja.)

Black Box

What if people had "black box" devices? I could rewind 15 minutes to remember what I came in here for.

While I'm At It

Why do drive through machines have braille?

Inventory Control

At my core, I'm a FIFO kind of gal. I like order and rules so First In, First Out makes sense to me. When I buy a box of cereal, I finish the box it's replacing before opening it.

But not when it comes to my lotions and potions, I tell you. I can't wait until the creme, lotion, scrub, whatever, runs out to replace it. And when I get it home, I have to try it, don't I?

What that means is, I have cabinet shelves full of stuff I'm not using, mostly empty containers with just a little left at the bottom. You'd think I'd just throw it away, right?

Nope.

Enunciate

I don't think they were saying "scurvy." I think pirates just had bad dentures and were saying "swervy" because that's how you feel after spending any kind of time on a boat. Swervy.

They need a better dental plan.

What's That You Say?

A sign I passed on my walk this morning read:

Bellevue Vacuum

Parking

Of course, I read it as:

Bellevue

Vacuum Parking

Yes, you can keep your car virtually forever, vacuum packed in its very own sealed pouch.....

The other thing I saw was a candy called Chocolate Covered Roasted Cacao Pieces which I thought was a bit redundant. Isn't that like chocolate covered chocolate? Don't know, but chocolate covered anything's not a bad thing, is it?

Retro

Incognito

Every time I play around with changing my hairstyle I get really uncomfortable - like the image in the mirror isn't mine or it's been altered in such a way that it's - at the same time - familiar and completely out of the ordinary. It's my face but it's someone else's hair. (46 year old face, 26 year old hair, scares me.)

What I don't understand is the long bang sweep that young women wear. I can't figure it out. When I do it, it looks like a really bad comb over. So I end up running my fingers through my hair, pushing it off my forehead, right back into my 1981 hairstyle.

I'm having a hard time growing up.

To Do

As in list. Easy to come up with when there's no threat that I'll actually do any of it.

Flotsam

More here.

Go Ahead and Light Up

A Federal Way man plead guilty to a charge of reckless driving which was reduced from vehicular homicide because a blood test found pot, and not alcohol, in his system.

In case you missed it, driving drunk/vehicular homicide. Driving high/reckless. To be sure, it's reckless but if you hurt someone does it matter how f****ed up you are?

By the way, this guy crossed a median, hit four cars and killed two people. Good thing he wasn't freaking drunk!

link

Screams

I hear children playing outside. I love that sound.

After Midnight

This song, sung by Eric Clapton, was on the radio as I drove home today in the sunshine. Top down, baby. Thing is, I've been crazy busy the last few days logging close to 300 miles carpooling, or rather schlepping, people to and from work, school, daycare, and one trip to the airport. Was there sun the last 300 miles? No. In fact, I got hail dumped on me Tuesday night - enough for an inch of the stuff to pile up on my wipers and nearly obliterate my plastic rear windshield of my little convertible. Poor thing.

Tonight, I've been relived of duty. No ferry service today - and the sun is out! The top is down and I've got nowhere to go! Argh! Anybody need a ride somewhere? Anyone?

DWH

Why is it that the most aggressive drivers either have a handicap placard or a Baby on Board sign? Really, does anyone know?

And, while I'm at it, do people who hold their phones away from their heads while they're driving think that's considered "hands free"? I think there's some confusion here.

Art

More pictures of Universal Studios Hollywood and other LA photos here: LA 2010