Goofing Off is Work

I've been so busy doing absolutely nothing that I haven't had time to goof off. I had intentions of working on the latest installment of Now & Then: Carried Away (the one about water) this week but instead I chased grandkids for four days, visited with in-laws the next, and a high school chum the day after that.

Yesterday, I did pretty much nothing. Walked on the beach and rode bikes. Read. Didn't write one single word. Today will be more of the same. (Although, I'm waiting for the arrival of a Vespa from Cincinnati. At this pace, I think I'll be late for the gallery gala. Save some champaign for me, will you?)

I'm telling you, goofing off takes a certain devotion akin to work. Don't worry, I'm sure I'll get the hang of it - probably after vacation and I'm sitting in my office which is where I do some of my best goofing off. (Give me a task, and I'll do my best to avoid it, I assure you.)

Meanwhile, this is what I've been reading:

Visitation Street by Ivy Pachoda - This book takes place in Brooklyn and is a story of young people (mostly) and their struggles in finding their place in the world. What I loved best about this book was the quality and style of the writing. The author writes in the third person and in the present tense, each chapter focusing on a different character, winding and weaving all their stories together. She does it well and I liked this book as much for the writing as for the story. Maybe even more.

Lucky Jim by Kingsley Amis (Introduction by Keith Gessen) - The original copyright date is 1953, the introduction copyrighted in 2012. I mention this because the Introduction was good; it enhanced my understanding of the author and Lucky Jim.

My favorite quote from the Introduction is "middle manager for a mustard manufacturer" (Kindle location 69), describing the author's father. Have no doubt that there will be a middle manager for a mustard manufacturer in the next Now & Then adventure: The Condiment Conglomerate.

On page 126 of the book (location 2171 of 4264), Amis writes:

"Your attitude measures up to the two requirements of love. You want to go to bed with her and can't, and you don't know her very well. Ignorance of the other person topped up with deprivation."

Followed by: "You'll find that marriage is a good short cut to the truth" on the next page (location 2180).

I loved the snarky, sarcastic tone of this book throughout and highlighted many passages.

Now, I'm reading The Color Purple by Alice Walker. This is an amazing story written in the form of a series of letters by two characters. (I'm about two-thirds of the way through it so I don't know if there will be other voices.) Again, I'm reading this for the writing as much as for the story (although this is a really, really great story). This technique allow for multiple voices and viewpoints and allows the author to quickly relate the passage of time over many years. Reading is always a good study of writing.

There's a lovely passage that begins on page 190 (location 1732 of 2817) that describes what God is - and isn't - and runs pretty much to the end of that chapter. It's too long to transcribe here but it was worth highlighting in my Kindle.

I love that feature. Recently, I discovered that all my notes are saved in my Kindle under My Clippings. Browsing there, I came across another quote about a chain of restaurants in L.A. called Zankou Chicken from the book Rob Delaney: Mother. Wife. Sister. Human. Warrior. Falcon. Yardstick. Turban. Cabbage. by Rob Delaney. (Put that in your Charades hat and smoke it!) He recommends the chicken Tarna plate with their signature garlic paste:

Their proprietary blend of cinnamon, nutmeg, and garlic is as satisfying as a mid-grade sexual experience. It is genuinely exciting to eat their food; it's like your mouth is learning something as it chews. (location 1569-70)

Now, I have a goal today.

Lunch.

Life's A Beach

Up

Look What I Came Across

Janet has been asking about this and I finally came across it. My camera can act up and I can't always access the memory card for some reason. But it got full yesterday so I needed to dump it and, in doing so, I came across all the photos from our visit together.

I copied everything to my fancy new laptop and as soon as I figure out how to put them someplace where we can access them (iCloud or Shutterfly or something), I'll do that. 

Anyway, at least I know where they are now.

If you like a photo sharing site more than the others, let me know.

There Has To Be A Better Way

Donald Rumsfeld Says He Has 'Absolutely No Idea' If He Paid His Taxes Properly

He's not the only one.

I know a lot of people file their own taxes but you don't have to be too sophisticated before your finances are more sophisticated than you are. Things can get complicated in a hurry. Fortunately, there's help.

Or is there?

And at the heart of the issue is the need for tax simplification, says David Williams, chief tax officer at Intuit, maker of TurboTax software. "I could give you 20 different definitions of modified adjusted gross income," Williams says. "There are a lot of opportunities for tax simplification that stop short of eliminating the tax return." 

Audit: 17 of 19 paid tax preparers got it wrong (USA Today)

Why stop short? Let's get rid of it - the tax return. There's no need for it. Most people efile so we're halfway there. In fact, if you don't file a return the IRS is happy to prepare a tax return for you (for free!) and they'll send you a delightful little letter telling you how it all worked out.

They do that by using the information they already have: your W2, your interest and dividend income, your capital gains, and the amount of mortgage interest you paid. So why do we need to file a tax return at all?

Because the IRS doesn't get your charitable contributions, your real estate taxes paid, and other deductions, for example, but that could change, don't you think? Especially, since you might pay those things with a credit card and already do online banking. Every payment you make is electronic in some fashion.

Here's my latest gazillion dollar enterprise: eTax. It would be great if the government could figure this out. Even better, if I could and then sell it to the government. Or you. I don't care which. It's still worth a gazillion dollars.

Simply sign up. . . . (hahahaha)

Seriously, once the kinks are worked out, it'll be great.

The idea is you sign up (it would be elective, initially), the government sends you an email with the calculation of your tax return and you either accept it or reject it. There has to be a huge number of people who would just accept it. I'm sitting in a room with someone right now who does that already by not filing a tax return to get the refund he's owed. Sounds crazy but he just doesn't want to trouble himself with it.

The fact is, there are a lot of people who do that and for that reason alone eTax would work. There has to be a way to connect other transactions to the grid. Some would be easier than others - like major charitable organizations. If you donate to United Way with a credit card, that would register as a charitable contribution with the IRS, for example.

Assuming it could ever get done, it would put H&R Block out of business. My firm too, eventually. But it makes sense. The reporting requirements of financial institutions is getting ever more sophisticated which might be burdensome until the computer code is written, tested, and works. (This year's reporting of capital gains was much easier due to regulations concerning basis reporting in earlier years.) It can happen.

Just saying.

Long Day

If they would only do this at the same time…

Getting Spoiled

Still doing taxes in my sleep. They say that will go away. Eventually. 

There's Always That Guy

2pm - new client walks in the door.

Day's not over yet.

Palindromatic

Every Date This Week Is a Palindrome

See? The day has barely started and already I'm goofing off!

Getting back to normal . . .

Today's Stress Meter

On the way into the office today I was asked to pick up the following:

1. Triple grande soy latte
2. Grande vanilla latte
3. A bag of potato chips
4. Red bull and vodka

I'll let you decide what kind of day it's going to be.

Done

Well, almost done. Still have to get through today. But we will. I'm pretty confident of that now. Besides, we're out of chocolate chip cookies over here so we have to be done.

I've got some details to attend to today - not the least of which is my own return - but we got through most of the rough stuff yesterday.

Thanks for your support. We should be returning to your regularly scheduled programming tomorrow.

Or sooner, if something funny happens.

Nobody ever wishes anyone a Happy Tax Day. Except me. I'm pretty happy about it.

WOO HOO!

You're Killing Me!

Do not go boating in this beautiful weather, text me about boating in this beautiful weather, or plaster pictures of you boating in this beautiful weather all over Facebook. That's just seriously cruel. It's bad enough that it's beautiful outside. I have to close the blinds at work so I can't see it or else I'd be tempted to go out there.

I'm only allowed to go outside exactly two times per day. Once at sunrise on the way to work and once at sunset on my way home. Yesterday, however, I managed to escape for a short while. I went to Grinitch (I had to do an errand there and fetch some Grinitch spinach) and I was sorely tempted not to come back. Ever.

With my luck it will be raining on the 16th and I'll be on the boat wishing I was at the office. Oh, the unfairness of it all!

Dude, invite me when I'm not working, okay?

2

The pants algorithm resulted in pale green pants today. You could make an argument today of whether or not there's anyone inside them. But it probably means it's time to do laundry.

3

Superheroes

I was feeling badass ninja today. I got dressed in my tight, black skinny jeans, a black top, and black patent leather peep toe platform pumps that showed off my fire-engine red shellacked toenails. I topped it with a sleek black jacket and black cap, jumped into my black Porche Carrera convertible and roared off to work, radio turned up loud and my stick-straight, long, light brown hair streaming behind me.

Then I did some ninja shit, got all the bad guys, went home and had a Grey Goose martini (shaken) with two olives in an ice cold glass while sitting on the deck of my yacht.

Well, almost.

I only have about four pair of pants that I really like but I go through a daily ritual of looking at all my pants, from left to right as they hang in the closet, before selecting the pair I really want. Today I picked my black skinny jeans - using my secret mathematical algorithm for selecting pants - and a top long enough to cover the fly that won't lie flat when I sit down. The armbands I wear to relieve the pain of tennis elbow poked out beneath the three-quarter length sleeves.

I haven't had a pedicure in six months so sandals were definitely out of the question - not to mention it was probably still a little early in the year for that. I figured if I wore the peep toe shoes I would only have to paint the toes that peeped.

I applied a single layer of red polish to my big toes and their nearest neighbors and then used my blow dryer alternately between my hair and feet. Having burned my forehead the day before, I decided not to curl my hair and running late for work I applied leftover makeup. This technique is based on an assumption that there is probably still makeup in my makeup brushes from the day before - which reminds me I should probably clean my makeup brushes.

With my toes still wet I put on pink rubber flip flops, a Jack Daniels "Field Tester" ball cap to cover my grey roots and my company-logoed jacket , got into my 11 year old convertible and dropped the top before I noticed a big gob of bird shit on the window. Damn! I flip-flopped back into the garage and got a Windex wipe, cleaned up the gob and started again.

I tied up my hair into a loose ponytail, accidentally including the string that holds my bifocals, tuned in NPR, and drove to work in heavy traffic, focusing the floor vents onto my feet to complete the drying process.

When I got to work, I shoved my feet into my pumps and looked at my pale and veiny feet and wondered what the hell I was thinking. Who cares if only four toe nails are painted? - I thought and put my flip flops back on.

I did tax returns for about ten hours, drove home in the rain, and had a glass of wine before I reheated leftovers and went to bed. Some ninja.

I wonder what Batman does on Friday nights.

4

Is it Friday yet?

Not yet.

Is it Friday?

Not yet.

What day is today? Friday?

Not yet.

When will it be Friday?

Four more days.

I can hear it in my head right now!

NEW YORK, ANAHEIM, Calif., LAKE BUENA VISTA, Fla., TOKYO, PARIS and HONG KONG, April 10, 2014: Disney Parks Around the World Celebrate 50th Anniversary of 'it's a small world' with Global Sing-along, April 10 - Travel - MiamiHerald.com



Make it stop!

5!

6

6

One Week To Go

7 days left in the tax season. It’s 7:15 am and I don’t have time for this but I have several thoughts in my head that I want to jot down before I forget them.

• Waking up from NyQuil-infused sleep is rude - it’s not the waking but the return of the symptoms you took the NyQuil to alleviate.

• running to/from April 15 - even as most people would like to avoid April 15th, I run towards it like a marathon runner to the finish line. (The last time I made this comparison was last year - I think - when a bomber tried to blow up the Boston Marathon so it’s not all that good a comparison.) People are still coming in the door with their taxes saying: So sorry it’s late. I hope you can still do my taxes. I don’t think it will be very hard this year. I’ve only gotten divorced, inherited a lot of money, invested in multiple publicly traded partnerships that do business in all fifty states, sold my house in a short sale before renting it out for a short while, and spent some time working in a foreign country, and I can only find about half my documents. But maybe they’re in here (heaving a large box onto the counter). Do you think it will be done by the 15th? Oh, I also sold a small number of shares of a European company that my grandfather gave me when I was six. That won’t be a problem, will it?

• baby wipes with an expiration date - because what could be worse than wiping your ass on an old wipe?

• After making pouty faces in the mirror in an attempt to make it (my face) look contoured and more animated i decided to selfishly spend a few more minutes in front of the mirror before trudging off to work to apply some makeup. I managed to stay within the lines this time carefully avoiding the salved patch of skin I had earlier torched with my curling iron.

• life is funny - my posts that have only a number in them - and nothing else - are receiving higher ratings on my blog than posts with any thoughts in them at all. which means no one is probably reading this. what makes life funny is life itself, its adversities and our clumsy attempts to overcome them. if i were to pursue being funny full time and give up my “real job” I’m afraid there would be nothing funny to write about.

• McDonalds - I’ve been craving McDonalds which only happens when I’m hungover or during tax time which - oddly - are very similar.

• I was asked by an organization to be their Historian, seeing as I’m a "writer" and all. Hugely flattered, I am, but considering that History was my worst subject in school and my own records are more hysterical than historical, I’m wondering if they’ve made a wise choice. A different organization asked me to be their Secretary, once, but I had to quit after I found out how much writing was involved.

Took NyQuil last night. Can you tell?

I am an April Fool.

So, Tim B., still funny?

7 - The thoughts in my head are very funny this morning. I jotted some of them down for later, before I went to work where all funny thoughts will summarily die. Hopefully, I'll get a chance to get back to them and, hopefully, they'll still be funny.

8

9

Nice thing about working here is I get all the free coffee I can drink. Good perk.

10

All At Once

Good gravy! I actually have a moment to myself. A time to relax and just not think - about anything. Paradoxically, I worry that I can't think of anything to think about and so I think again. (What a friend of mine calls my Thinking Problem.)

Here's what I'm thinking about:
Invisibility Cloaks
Taxes
Taxation of Invisibility Cloaks
Starbucks
Crack

Man, you can't believe how good it feels to dump that out of my brain! I keep a notebook handy just so I can dump stuff there - little notes so I don't have to keep that kind of stuff in my head but I never have my notebook with me when I want to recall them so who knows? It's probably like blogging - words floating through the atmosphere with no place to call home.

I digress, but that happens pretty frequently this time of year.

You know what else happens frequently this time of year? I lose total and utter control of the English language. Oh, sure, I'm old so that happens but when I get a bunch of numbers in my head, the words are crowded right out of my skull (haha - autocorrect wrote "soul" which is just as close to the truth) and . . . where was I?

Right after drones become a household item, invisibility cloaks will become a must have. With more ways to spy on each other, products such as the Spy Finder Personal Detection Device are finding their way into the market. What happens when you have a north-going Zax and a south-going Zax who meet face to face and stop in their tracks? Everybody finds away around them, that's what. (We find ways around things, is what I'm saying.)

I'm not sure the description for this particular product should inspire confidence:

It detect wireless and wired cameras by looking through the viewing port and scanning any room.

Grammar aside, I could do that looking through an empty toilet paper roll.

My point is, at some point non detection will be like star-bellied Sneetches. Once we all have stars on our bellies, we'll want them off again and Sylvester McMonkey McBean will be there to clean up.

But I won't need to stand in line for an invisibility cloak because I'm already invisible. Seems like it, anyway, when I'm trying to get help from a retail clerk. Joke's on you, though, because after you all get your invisibility cloaks I'll be the only one that anyone can see.

As for taxes (see list, above), there's always something new and voyeuristicly interesting every tax season. Last year, it was cancelled debt and foreclosures. This year, employer-provided health insurance benefits are reported on W2s and I'm amazed at how much people (or their employers) pay for health insurance. If I added up my auto and home insurance plus my life insurance premiums, it wouldn't come close to what I pay for health insurance.

The other tax-related item that only I would find interesting is how many charitable organizations don't know that if they don't include the proper language on their receipts their donors' contributions are non-deductible. Imagine donating a large sum of money and finding, on audit, that the deduction is not allowable because the receipt doesn't contain the words "no goods or services were provided in exchange" for this donation? If you don't get a receipt with that language on it (for donations in excess of $250 and for which no actual goods or services were provided) prior to filing your return then the donation is nondeductible and I don't care if you gave a million dollars and you're a really nice guy. It's no good.

This is not exactly front page news but a lot of people don't know this. People who really should.

I don't really have anything to say about the taxability of invisibility cloaks but maybe I will later, during the tax season when Invisible Tax becomes the next Obamacare. (Lawmakers will write the law in invisible ink and we'll all have a hell of a time trying to non detect it.)

Starbucks and crack go together. I have further evidence that the soy milk is the source of their crack additive: They sell everything else at retail except the milk. Dairy milk, I get. They only have limited space and they're not in the business to sell milk. You can go next door to the grocery store to get that. They're not in the business of selling sandwiches either but they can fit all their food into one refrigerated case. They're not going to expand their stores for dairy. (Although, they are opening new stores that sell only tea and tea-related products. Why not branch out into boutique milk bars?)

You can buy mugs, coffee makers, and coffee. All the items one might presumably think would allow a person to make coffee at home and avoid ever coming back to Starbucks again. But, no. The only ingredient they don't sell (which doesn't need refrigeration, btw) is the soy milk. Because they want you to come back. Over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over . .. . .

That's my mind-dump for the day. It's this crowded in my head all the time but I can usually string it out over a couple of days which also gives me time to filter out the irrelevant and the unfunny. No such luck today. I don't know when I'll have another minute so this is what you get.

All at once.

Yesterday's News

After tax season, I think I'll start working on a script for a new TV show. A cop show, I'll call it:

Retina & Macula

Private Eye

Deloitte Hires Accountant After Noticing Popular Tweets Of Audit Calculations

“When we came across William’s @TheRealRiskAssessor Twitter account and read his incredibly smart and engaging tweets of gross margin sample reports, performance materiality numbers, and risk assessments, our jaws dropped and we asked, ‘Who is this guy?’”

This Is It

Two weeks to go until April 15th. This is where the rubber hits the road, the women are separated from the girls, and sanity and reality part ways. From here on out, there is no existence but the dazed fog of the hypnotized, the glassy eyes, the glossed-over look, the perpetual expression of the stunned. No more breathing until this thing is done. Just eat, drink, and - worst of all - sleep taxes. Taxes, numbers, deadlines, reminders. Checking the box, double-checking the figures, delivering bad news.

No one is happy. Not you, not me. Except you get to sleep at night. Not me. I live in constant fear of not being able to make it to the finish line, knowing that a permanent crack-up is just around the corner, lying in wait, ready to pounce on the first sign of surrender. I can't cry and I can't laugh because I'm not sure which is which anymore. Good grief, I chose this for a living? Who in their right mind would do that?

Oh, wait. It must be a prerequisite - to be a masochistic, marathon runner, super-woman wannabe. Someone who feels in control enough of the time to feel like one can do anything, take charge of any challenge before her.

Until April, that is. That's when she crumbles. When she is supplied with a chocolate IV and a gerbil feeder with an unlimited supply of coffee at her desk. And a pillow for the rare times she is allowed to put her head down. Because, she is not going home. Not for two more weeks.

Two.

More.

Weeks.

Free Quote

spooning leds to forking

so use condiments

- T-Shirt sold at Mother's Bistro & Bar, Portland OR

Also,

call your mother

 

Free Quotes

Every day on the way to work, I pass a sign that reads, "Free Quotes." It's a small A-frame board on the sidewalk. I have no idea what it actually promotes but I keep hoping to see a bard quoting Shakespeare or something like that.

In the meantime, I will provide you with two free quotes:

I'm not bossy. I just have better ideas than you.

and

Taco Bell is Tinker Bell's evil twin. 

Both are courtesy of Jackie, the bar waitress, at Pazzo Ristorante in Portland. If you're ever in the area, stop in and sit at one of her tables. She's a hoot.

Honk

When I lived in Chicago, I wore wool. There was winter-weight wool and summer-weight wool and everyone knew the difference between worsted, merino, and gabardine.

By contrast, in Seattle, we have different kinds of rain jackets: ones with hoods and ones without. (The last couple of days have been "ones without" kind of days.)

There are regional differences, too. Such as, the closer you get to the Washington/Oregon border, the slower people drive. It's like the river is the wrong end of a magnet, creating a force field that slows everyone down. Or, it might have something to do with Portland traffic. Once you cross the river, you can't really go anywhere in hurry so drivers just let off the accelerator around Washington mile post 10 and coast the rest of the way.

My personal theory is that Oregon drivers take "speed limit" literally. As in, there is a limit to the commodity of speed which will be fully depleted once you hit your allotted limit. Ergo, they drive slowly so as not to use up their limit. (Maybe there's no more!)

You might call it, "laid back."

I call it, "get out of the left lane!"

Cleaning Tip #107

If my vacuum cleaner isn't willing to pick it up then neither am I. 

Moving On Up

Our new place is a furnished mother-in-law apartment in the daylight basement of a nice home in a very nice neighborhood. The area is very Bellevue-like here (read, self-aggrandizing). The homes, grocery store, nearby restaurants, and the people who populate it all adhere to whatever the codes are for exuding wealth (yoga pants, and Audis). We are only nine miles east of where we were before but we have literally crossed the tracks.

I used to be able to hear the railroad tracks. Not just the horns the trains blow at intersections, I could hear their wheels making squeaking protestations on the tracks as they hauled mile-long cargo. Now, I live high above the tracks where I can barely hear the train whistle over the active quarry next door.  At least, we're not in the flight path of PDX anymore which is a definite improvement.

Starved for extra noise, we found ourselves living beneath hosts who walk like an army of elephants. Only two people, their children grown and gone, they make up for the emptiness of their household by making extra tracks. Truly, the home is beautiful with a large deck and and expansive view of the river which makes upstairs neighbors and the fact that we have to creep around the side of the house to enter at the back a mere side note.

Luckily, our landlords have also scheduled to refinish their hardwood floors this week.

We shall sleep well, I'm sure. The gentle grinding will be like the waves of the ocean . . .

I just told my husband that the reason senior citizens don't buy things on the internet is because they can't see the expiration date on their credit cards.

He said, "What?"

This Title Is Intentionally Blank

From: Kellie
Sent: Thursday, March 20, 2014 1:33 PM
To: Lynn C Dot
Subject: blank

LOL   and if it’s unintentionally blank should someone be notified?  :D

From: Lynn C Dot
Sent: Thursday, March 20, 2014 1:30 PM
To: Kellie
Subject: blank

If I have a blank page but it doesn’t say that it’s blank, is it intentionally or unintentionally blank?

~Lynn

Four Weeks To Go

I am dog tired.

It's tax season. (Did I mention that already?) Also, we had to move because our landlady is crazy. (I think I mentioned that, too.) And, these things happened simultaneously. As in, at the same time. As in, I did four tax returns yesterday and then went home to pack, shlepped stuff to the new place, and unpacked. All. In. One. Day.

Now, you might be the type who likes to do tax returns. Or, you may be someone who likes to move. But I'll just bet you've never done both before. (You don't know what you're missing out on.)

Today, I said To hell with tax returns and I spent the most of the day moving more stuff and cleaning. Now, you might wonder what one moves when one moves from one furnished apartment to another. It turns out it can be a lot when you've been living in a place for a while. But that's another story.

We're done. We're moved. And, we're tired.

Tomorrow, it's back to tax returns.

I'll tell you about the new place later. Right now, I'm dog tired.

(By To hell with tax returns, I mean I'll be working this weekend.)

PNWF131

Pacific Northwest fallacy #131: All people who wear yoga pants actually do yoga.

Question For Today

Would you have a middle initial if Invisible was your middle name?

Happy Pi Day

From the KenKen Facebook page.

Professional Gambler Bets Wrong In Tax Court - Takeout Expenses Are Gambling Losses, Not Business Expenses

The article is really about gambling. And taxes. Not that you should gamble on taxes, however. It's a good article but what got my attention was the first line:

When the calendar turns to mid-March and tax season makes the leap from annoying to soul-crushing, . . .   

[more at Forbes.com]

Because, my friends, we are there.

Send chocolate . . .

Half Full

There are a few, couple redeeming qualities to this condo situated at the end of the PDX runway*. One is the river. It makes sense that transportation hubs should locate near a river. There's generally little elevation for highways or rail and international ports support the barge traffic moving cargo along the river. I'm sure there's an excellent reason for the airport being located here as well but I haven't a clue what that might be. Perhaps, it has something to do with the wind that whips down the river corridor.

Even as transportation is lured to the river, so is housing. Therefore, we have an odd mix of trucking companies alongside condos peppered with restaurants, walking trails, and railroad tracks.

Trains, planes, and automobiles.

We've had a few days of sunshine+ to enjoy walking on the river and that is what we will miss the most about our current temporary accommodations. With nearby mile-long trains at our backs, we take in beautiful sunsets over the decrepit but stunning-from-afar steel structure of the I-5 bridge. Everyone comes out with sun. Old people, children, foreigners, and lovers all stroll along the river communing with each other and the recently forgotten outdoors.

But just this week, I discovered another redeeming quality: the lamppost outside my bedroom window. Not only does it provide a convenient, perpetual night light, I also took no notice of Daylight Savings Time as it's always daylight in the glow of our well-located condo.

As for the runway, I have a suggestion for the next tenant to live here: the planes probably won't hit you but I wouldn't recommend putting your hands in the air.

 *I exaggerate. But only slightly.
+Note to Right: It should be there in a few days. Hang in there!

In my next life

I'm going to become a manicurist and call my business Task At Hand. 

Nuts

If you think this site is whacky, you should see my real life. It's stranger than anything I could make up and you wouldn't believe me anyway. But you'll believe this: it's tax season again. No real news here. It's just a busy time.

We're holding up so far. No one's been to the hospital yet. I'm working some weekend days but not every day yet. I'm trying to cook large meals so that I can freeze the leftovers for future meals but when that runs out, it'll be nothing but take-out. I also avoid wearing anything that wrinkles because there's no time for ironing. I made it a point to buy a lot of knits at the after-Christmas sales this year.

But, for bonus points this year, we are moving. Not Moving - with a capital - M. Just moving- little m. The landlady of our Portland-area condo just decided to be insane. Not sure why, exactly. Clearly, there's a longer story here but the punch line is she's crazy and we've come to the mutual conclusion that we should move along.

This presents several problems, not the least of which is it's tax season (see above). Looking for a place to live and moving is not high on the priorities list right now. Right now, basic human functions need to be freaking scheduled so, no, we don't have a lot of free time for this pile of expletives. Oh, and by the way, there is a dearth of furnished apartments where we are so despite our landlady's point of view that since we don't have a lot of stuff to move, finding a place to live is harder than it might appear. Since it's March, it's also quite possible that it will be raining on moving day. So there's that to look forward to as well.

She's right in that we don't have a lot of stuff but it's always more than you think it is. Having a place here means we don't have to travel back and forth with suitcases. We can cook and eat at home. And, we live here almost 50% of the time. That means clothes, toiletries, linens, a TV, and kitchen supplies. And don't forget the coffee maker and red coffee cups!

We found a place, though. It took five weeks to find it. Lease isn't signed yet but it's looking good which means we could be moving in a few weeks. Not ideal timing but it is what it is. As for the rest of my life, it's just fine. Amusing, to be sure.

Right:

Expect precipitation over the next few days.

Our recommendation: Stay in bed.

Love,
Left

Corporate Secrets

Stopped at Starbucks for my bad habit and saw the soy container left out on the counter. It said "organic" and "other natural flavors." 

I was going to take a picture but I've been asked to leave a Starbucks before for taking pictures. (Remember that, Vicki?) Apparently, Starbucks is worried about corporate spies. 

Anyway, I don't have any idea what those other natural flavors could be. Must be the crack. 

Its The Sugar

I used to think Starbucks lattes were laced with crack which was what made them so addictive. I can't say one way or the other if there's crack in there but I can tell you, there's a whole lot of sugar.

Compared to what? I usually order a double-tall soy latte whenever I order coffee. At Starbucks, that means 210 calories and 21 grams of sugar according to their nutritional information. When I make it at home, I use Kirkland brand vanilla soy milk. According to one website, that translates to 100 calories and 7 grams of sugar. I'd look at the package but I'm all out of soy milk and my local Costco isn't too keen about restocking it.

Getting my latte at Starbucks means more than double the calories and three times as much sugar. Still, 21 grams of sugar doesn't seem like so much. If I ordered a soy latte with whole milk, I'd still get 19 grams of sugar (for only 30 calories more). Interestingly enough, there's 19 grams of sugar in instant cocoa, according to WebMD. Also,

So how much exactly is a gram of sugar? One teaspoon of granulated sugar equals 4 grams of sugar. To put it another way, 16 grams of sugar in a product is equal to about 4 teaspoons of granulated sugar. 

Keep in mind, though, that the grams of sugar listed on the nutrition information label includes natural sugars from fruit (fructose) and milk (lactose) as well as added sweeteners like refined sugar or high-fructose corn syrup. That’s why the label on a carton of regular low-fat milk says there's 13 grams of sugar per cup. And that’s why the grams of sugar per serving in Raisin Bran (or any cereal with raisins or other dried fruit) seem unexpectedly high.

I'm not sure about the math, though. Starbuck's website says a 12 oz soy latte provides 50% of the daily recommended intake of calcium. The other website says an 8 oz serving of the Costco soy provides 25% of the recommended calcium. Presumably, part of the 12 oz latte is made up of coffee and, last I checked, there is no calcium in espresso.

Interestingly, you would only get 160 calories and 10 grams of sugar if you ordered a double-tall soy latte in Canada, with the same 50% of recommended calcium. I never could figure out the metric system.

Costco hasn't restocked their soy in several weeks so I've been forced to get my lattes at Starbucks.

And now I know where my muffin top came from.

It's The Water

The Olympia Brewing Company had the right idea. You have to start with good water to make a good beer. Regardless, good water is generally a good idea. If you're making something that requires water as a basic component, however, it isn't always apparent that the quality of the water would make a difference. Especially, if you can't necessarily taste the difference in the water all by itself. Or, if the other ingredient(s) might be considered to have an overpowering flavor or quality.

Like coffee.

I recently reported that I got a new, used, coffee maker for my Portland-area apartment. I love the coffee I make in my Seattle-area home so I was thrilled to finally be able to make a rich cup of coffee at my other location. It was definitely better than what I was drinking before but it wasn't quite right.

I figured the problem was the cheap grinder I bought when I suddenly ran out of ground coffee one day. I had a cache of beans but no grinder. In a pinch, I bought the first (and only) burr grinder that I came upon at Fred Meyer. Otherwise, I would have had to forgo my cup of joe the following morning and as we should know by now, gentle readers, that was wholly unacceptable.

My brother recently told me he uses bottled water in his coffee maker and when a well-intentioned individual used tap water one morning, he could tell the difference. It never occurred to me that the water could make a difference when it came to making strong, black coffee. I always thought it was all about the coffee.

I conducted an experiment. The next time I traveled to my Portland-area apartment, I imported Seattle water (Brita filtered tap water) and ground coffee using my Seattle-based grinder. I put them both in my Portland-based coffee maker and voilà! I had the best cup of coffee I've had in three years outside my Seattle-area home.

The next day I used coffee ground in my $30 Fred Meyer grinder with the Seattle water. It was still better than what I was drinking before but it wasn't as good as Seattle-ground coffee with Seattle water. This led me to conclude that I need to either continue importing Seattle water and pre-ground coffee or I would need to build a coffee pipeline between my two locations.

I'm working on a grant application to fund the pipeline project because I think Congress might be in the mood to fund such a thing. In it, I address ecological concerns thusly:

Leaks from the pipeline won't kill anyone, won't explode, and will only marginally affect groundwater. You might end up with some agitated salmon but it probably won't kill anything. Except, possibly, rust and/or weeds. Further, it is anticipated that a coffee spill may even serve to counter the effects of earlier oil and/or gasoline spills and would behave, in this instance, as an ecological eraser. It is anticipated there is a less than one tenth of one percent chance that this coffee pipeline would rupture concurrently and in the same vicinity as a collision involving a truck carrying ice cream, cookies, and/or chocolate. However, I would personally oversee the cleanup in such an unlikely event.

Full disclosure: I don't live in Seattle. I live near Seattle so I make no representations with regard to Seattle water. What I do represent is that water does make a difference.

Slow Leak

I get oil spills in the Gulf are bad. Burst pipelines are bad. Long trains full of oil are hazardous. What I'm wondering is how much is leaking under my house. Or yours. 

My first house used to have oil heat. The tank was underground and we had to get it decommissioned before we sold the house even though it was converted to gas heat long before we bought the place. 

My current house has gas heat and I'm guessing that the guys who installed it weren't rocket scientists. In fact, when we had a gas dryer installed in the old house I kind of remember they tested the gas connection by spraying soapy water on it. Not very sophisticated. 

My point is there's a human element involved in all this leaky business and with so many homes relying on gas or oil for fuel, we could have a huge exposure of leaking fuel right below our feet. 

Doesn't grab headlines like a train on fire though. 

Stock Up

Weather warning for those of you on the Right: It's raining on the Left which wouldn't be news except I just passed a house where they're building an ark in the front yard. A loud, booming voice kept saying something about cubits.

All this weather is probably headed your way. If it's below freezing where you are, you're going to see snow and if all this rain is any indication, you should probably stock up on Spam.

Happenings

Tax season is in full swing which probably doesn't help my elbows any. It's not yet a 24/7 schedule, but things are getting pretty busy around here. So much so that I hardly have time for goofing off although I'm thinking about it all the time. It may be time to hire a professional surrogate. 

To top things off we need to move again. It turns out our landlord in our Vancouver location is crazy and she's asked us in no uncertain terms to leave. Fortunately, we have a lease so she can't kick us out but it's clear we need to find something else. 

We're tired of moving every year so we're thinking of buying something down there. The problem is timing. We just don't have time for house hunting, furniture buying, and moving. Not until after April 15 so we could have another couple months of an uncomfortable living situation. 

I had a minute so I thought I would touch base to let you know that all is well, all things considered. Just busy. 

It's a Wrap

Elbow recovery has been slow.

Dancing at Lughnasa

Heard this was a good movie. In case there's a quiz later on, this is what it's about.

Are we on the map now?

Thousands of Seattle kids skip school on Seahawks parade day

Seattle Public Schools reported that more than 13,000 students and 565 teachers were absent from school Wednesday morning, most likely to join the estimated 700,000 screaming, joyous, freezing fans at the Seahawks victory parade in downtown Seattle.

We give our kids the day off for snow, sun, or Seahawks.

Special, Indeed.

And Seattle was flashy on special teams, with Percy Harvin’s 87-yard kickoff return to start the second half putting it up 29-0, essentially sealing the deal.

. . . “I’m trying to be nice about it,’’ said receiver Golden Tate, “but we know that we have a special group of guys. ..."

Seahawks dominate Denver from start to finish to win Super Bowl

Hauschka like them apples?

We live within walking distance of the Seahawks training facility and we drive by its entrance every day. Yesterday, people were taking their pictures in front of the sign that marks it. 

There were still people taking pictures in front of the Seahawks sign this morning. At 6am. 

Don't ask what I was doing driving by that sign before sunrise. Suffice it to say I have a long commute. 

No one can really call it a good game but folks around here aren't concerned with that. Today, people are driving to work with smiles on their faces. Metro buses have "Go Seahawks!" in lights where their route numbers ought to be. People are in a good mood and no one is blue this Monday. 

Go Hawks! We'll see you in Glendale next year!

Just a couple of things to keep in mind as you watch the big game today. First, if you had a very large retail space wherein you sold wall receptors for two- and three-pronged plugs, you could call it the Outlet Mall.

Also, in the game "Rocks, Paper, Scissors" paper beats rock, scissors beat paper, and raptors eat untrained horses.

Meet the Most Special Boys in the NFL

There seems to be some confusion about what kind of animal Seattle's football team is named after. Why not? There's a lot of confusion surrounding Seattle itself. Like, where the hell is it? It's out west somewhere, right? In the Land of Starbucks.

BuzzFeed

Well, that's close enough, I guess.

But, let's be clear about one thing. The Seattle football team (and we're not talking about soccer here) is named after a hawk not a bird, OKAY? A hawk is a bird of prey not just any old feathered, winged, two-legged, warm-blooded, egg-laying vertebrate. A Seahawk is otherwise known as an osprey which is a freaking raptor. A raptor is a bird that hunts and feeds on other animals. Like broncos. Which, by the way is an untrained horse.

So there.

Now that's out of the way, I'd like to introduce you to the Seattle Seahawks' (not Seabirds) Special Teams. These are boys that are so special that no one would love them but their own mothers. I'm not trying to be cruel here but when was the last time you saw someone wearing the jersey for the Gunner or the Long Snapper? (btw, the Center is nothing but a Short Snapper, but I digress.) Even their moms can't make it to all the games so somebody's got to love them.

When the Special Teams takes the field, that's when everyone leaves to refresh their beers or go to the can. Not me. I stand and shout, "Go, Clint Gresham!"

#49 Clint Gresham is our Long Snapper. It's an interesting position because it requires lightening skill and accuracy, can't be touched by the defense, and is something you can learn and master well enough to get you a college scholarship by borrowing a video tape from the library. #86 Zack Miller is the backup LS (good initials, no?) but he's also a Tight End which makes Gresham all the more special.

Gresham's better side.

I like the Gunners just because who the hell knew there were Gunners on a football team? They are #20 Corner Back Jeremy Lane, #41 Corner Back Byron Maxwell and sometimes #83 Wide Receiver Ricardo Lockette. Even though they play other positions, what makes them special is you can't just find a depth chart somewhere or look up the Seahawks roster and find out who the gunner is. They don't exist.

See? No gunners according to ESPN's depth chart.

Not as special as Jon Ryan.

That brings us to #9 Jon Ryan. He plays the Holder and the Punter. You can't get more special than that!

The Kick Returners are very important people but they're only a little special because they have other jobs. #89 Doug Baldwin and #19 Bryan Walters are both Wide Receivers. But not even the third Kick Returner's mom loves the last Kick Returner because she named her son Christine and you know he got beat up a lot in school. #33 (double-three!) Running Back Christine Michael is very special indeed.

Punt Returners are just like Kick Returners, only different. They are #81 (good year!) Wide Receiver Golden Tate (C'mon, Golden? That's the very definition of special!) and #25 Corner Back Richard Sherman (who will be first to tell how exactly how special he is.)

Last, but by no means least, we have #4 Steven Hauschka as Kicker (for field goals and kickoffs). He's special because he's scored 143 points for the Seattle Seahawks this year which, I believe, makes him the highest scorer for the team. From now on, every time he kicks it for three you need to yell, "Hauschka like them apples!" and give someone a high three.

And remember this, when you're eating chicken wings this Sunday they came from a bird, not from a hawk!

Tax Season Officially Starts Today!

Who says accountants don't have a sense of humor? Pencils? Also, they forgot chocolate. Lots and lots of chocolate.

As you begin gearing up for tax season, you are probably anticipating the impending stress and fatigue — the late nights, broken pencils and take-out food. Oh yeah, and coffee … lots and lots of coffee. Are you ready for 11th-hour changes to IRS rules or new last-minute tax regulations? Feeling confident calculating the new net investment income tax? Keeping up with these types of changes while staying one step ahead of your inbox can be a daunting task. But it doesn’t have to be. The AICPA® Tax Section can help.

In May I tweeted: I dreamt I had no elbows and couldn't drink my coffee. Now, it's freaking true!

Are You Evading Me?

KUOW (94.9 FM Seattle) recently aired an interview with Dean Baker, economist and co-director of the Center for Economic and Policy Research in Washington, DC. They were discussing the effect of higher tax rates on the wealthy that will be in effect for those filing tax returns for 2013.

In it Baker says, "There's a lot of very clever accountants who have as their job finding ways to evade taxes."

The interview, How Rising Taxes For Wealthy Americans Will Impact Economic Inequality is just over six minutes long and he makes this statement at 5:31. He uses the word "avoid" at 5:48 but uses "evading" at 6:03. The word avoid was associated with "these people" - presumably, wealthy people. But he refers to accountants both times when he used the words evade and evading.

Perhaps I heard him incorrectly but, just to be clear, these terms are not interchangeable and, while I know a lot of clever accountants, I don't know ANY whose job it is to evade taxes.

Avoiding taxes is legal; evading them is not. When you take a mortgage interest deduction, for example, you are avoiding paying higher taxes. Some might consider this a loophole; others consider it a god-given right. In either case, it's perfectly legal.

People go to jail for a long time for tax evasion. Anyone remember a guy named Al Capone?

The other five and a half minutes of the interview are pretty interesting. Worth a listen, even. But I take exception to the idea that accountants are all about evading taxes. Some, maybe, but let's not put all accountants in the same category, okay?

All In!

3D

Took him to his first 3D movie yesterday.

Mind. Blowing.

The grin in on his face after the show was . . . no words can describe it.

Then, he started to talk about how Denver was going to win the Super Bowl.

So, I poked him in the other eye.

Actually, no. I wouldn't do that to my little brother. But, I'll tell you what I would do. Yesterday we changed out all the exterior flood lights on our house to green and blue. One green light shone outside the guest bedroom window. All. Night. Long.

He had no choice but to dream of a Seahawks victory.

And, I got him this:

Buy it here.

It's hard not to get swept up in the Seahawks frenzy. In fact, he came up with this: When Hauschka kicks the winning field goal next week, my little brother's going to yell

Hauschka like them apples?!

Quick! Contact the Washington State Apple Commission. . . .

Good looking!

My brother saw me for the first time in thirty-seven years.

You know how they say, "It's all fun and games until someone loses an eye"? Well, they're talking about my brother. He's that guy. The guy whose eye got poked out.

He was ten and his eye didn't exactly get poked out but it did get poked and he became legally blind in that eye as a result. He had three surgeries that year none of which could save his vision but which did save his eye.

The technology didn't exist four decades ago to repair his vision so he went through the remainder of his childhood, adolescence, and into middle age without the advantage of depth perception or even peripheral vision on his left side.

A baseball career was definitely out of the question.

But things changed. Surgical technologies advanced and he got a job with good healthcare coverage. It took thirty-seven years but he was finally in a position to get his vision back.

It turns out the surgeons did more than save his eye all those years ago. When they removed the lens in his left eye, they did so in such a way that left his eye in the best shape possible to receive a new lens nearly four decades later without much restorative work. The surgery went better than expected and he could see - for the first time in thirty-seven years - the very next day.

The last time he saw me in 3D, I was 13. It's pretty cool to finally be seen by my little brother. Really, really cool.

"It's nice to see you," has been the understatement of the day.

My elbow patches are made out of ice. They're not stitched to my sweater. Instead, they're held in place with rubber bands.

I would make a funny looking professor with ice bags dangling from my elbows. Actually, I make a funny looking anything with ice bags dangling from my elbows.

Progress has been slow.

Just got a trackball mouse. We'll see if that helps.

Kroozing

I just noticed that Krispy Kreme has a drive through window. Do we really need this? I mean if you're going to get in your car to drive somewhere to get a' donut, shouldn't you have to at least get out of your car and walk to the counter?

I mean, how lazy can a person get? Makes sense, though. You don't have to get out of your car to do much of anything anymore: bank, dine, shop, watch a movie, and pick up your prescription. You can even wash your car without getting out of your car.

I don't know. If you can't spell crispy and creme without using Ks, you might as well drive through. No need to tax yourself. Just saying.

Meanwhile, Burgerville is becoming my favorite fast food restaurant.

The chain uses 100% wind power for all of its restaurants and headquarters, and is the largest chain in America to do so.

Yes, they have drive through windows. But they also have food.

Stepford Redux

. . . only this time all the residents are in the Witness Protection Program. The Feds-on-Furlough decide it would be more cost effective to put all protected witnesses in the same town. In the same subdivision. On the same street. It's easier than doing the research with each case and you can use the same moving company, which has been previously vetted, over and over.

Why not? Their identities are a secret. So here is a suburban town full of rebranded individuals, all pretending to be someone else. Then, one day, a codefendant moves in to the three-bedroom rambler on the corner. And Mr. Smith is recognized.

Of course, they're all named Mr. Smith.

Maybe that's the name of the show.

You can send my next million dollars to . . .

Talk About Special!

But throwing a perfect, tight spiral with the velocity of an All-Pro quarterback while bent over with your head between your legs is not something just anyone can do. It has to get seven yards on a field goal and 14 yards on a punt in fractions of a second. . . .

As long as he's on the money from between his legs, he can do what he wants.

MYNorthwest.com | Seahawks depth chart: Long snapper Clint Gresham is an ultra-specialist

 Did I mention he plays cornhole? I wonder if that's how he tosses the bag.

H/T: slb

Bowling

New team: All the shirts will by embroidered with "Anne."

Deuce

I have tennis elbow. In both elbows. With chronic inflammation.

The last time I played tennis was probably twenty years ago. But you don’t need to fire a gun to get trigger finger so I guess you don’t need to play tennis to get tennis elbow. They’ve been bothering me since September but I figured, like most things, it would just go away. I guess “it’ll just go away” applies less and less as one gets older. Something to remember.

It’s treatable but I was advised I needed to be diligent in my treatment because tennis elbow can last a long time. So, I’m on a regiment of 1200 mg ibuprofen daily, icing my elbows morning and night, a series of exercises, and I’m wearing velcro straps on each forearm just below my elbow joints. Coincidentally, I happened to get a new keyboard yesterday which allows me to rest my wrists slightly above my hands when typing. Just the straps and the keyboard were enough to make a difference. 

The ice and ibuprofen treatment lasts for five days. Today is day three. I'm supposed to do the exercises and wear the elbow straps for four to six weeks. If that doesn't do it, I'll get referred to physical therapy and if you've ever been to physical therapy, you know you don't want to go back. 

I'm being very diligent. The last time I went to physical therapy was for my back and while the pain they were trying to treat was far more intense, I left there on more than one occasion in tears and I'm not interested in doing that again.

If that's not bad enough, cortisone shots would be the next-in-line therapy with surgery being the ultimate remedy.

That's just from not playing tennis. Imagine if I had!

WTF?

Portland pimp sues Nike for $100 million for lack of warning label after beating victim with Jordans

H/T: Ron's Log

My Boys . . .

Thirty-five percent of the Seahawks’ plays are on special teams . . . 

The News Tribune: Seahawks getting a kick on special teams

Read more here: http://www.thenewstribune.com/2013/10/21/2848311/getting-a-kick-on-special-teams.html#storylink=cpy

I love the Seahawks Special Teams

So does the NY Times.

Seahawks’ Punt Team Is Flashy With Play, Not Name

So should you.

February Looming

The next holiday is on it's way: Super Bowl XLVIII. I was in the local Fred Meyer which is one of those all-in-one stores. It has a gardening department, furniture and housewares, tools, clothes, jewelry, a pharmacy, a daycare, and a bank. Oh, and food.

It has two major entrances. Inside one, furniture was prominantly arranged to look like a living room with overstuffed leather couches and recliners positioned in front of a giant TV.  Popcorn poppers, crock pots, Tabasco sauce, and a variety of beers were scattered here and there with SALE signs. (That's where I'm going to watch the big game, I think. Buy a back a chips and watch the game at Fred Meyer.)

The jewelry store is located just inside the other entrance to the store.  I suspect it is not a coincidence that Valentine's Day falls on the heels of the Super Bowl. All the pretty shiny things were surrounded in lacy red hearts promising love (or certain sex) with every purchase, even if you were an ass the weekend before.

Is this evidence that the two events are diametrically opposed? Or, that one is cause for the other?

In either case, you need to be ready because if you're not there can be dire consequences. Get your baubles and don't forget your shirt.

Better late than never will not work in this case.

Look Familiar?

It should because it looks just like my other coffee machine. But this one only cost me $75 on Craigslist. Oh, baby! 

I've been drinking bad coffee from a Mr. Coffee espresso maker for about a year. Yes, that's lunacy but I didn't want to pay a permanent price for a temporary situation. But enough was enough so I happened to browse for espresso makers and found the love of my life. Okay, second love of my life. (Okay, third.) I was giddy with excitement and threw all caution to the wind by responding to the ad with my name, email address, phone number, full price offer, assurance I could pay in cash and would pick it up immediately. (Do not attempt at home.)

The deal was struck (duh!) and we made arrangements to meet at a Starbucks (again, duh!) in Portland. Since we were going, I parlayed it into a dinner reservations with Hubby. (We ate at ¡Oba! which I can only describe as a flavor riot. I highly recommend it if you're in the area and are not a vegetarian, vegan, gluten free reindeer.)

I was so excited I could hardly stand it. I showered, shaved, and curled my hair. I was more exited to get my new coffee maker than I was for my dinner date. I nervously paced until it was time to go.

The last time I bought one of these (exact same model), it was about 10 years ago, if I had to guess. I don't remember how much I paid for it but it seemed like a lot of money at the time. ($300?) I figured I would make it back in about a year by making my lattes at home. I got my money's worth.

This time I figure it'll take me about a month. (Well, two since I'm here only half the time.)

And, this morning, I made my first cup of coffee from it. And it was so good, I had two.

Dogville

Have you seen Dogville yet?

It's long but it's good. When it was over, one of us said "wow" and the other one said "terrible." As in, terribly wow.  About it, I jotted before I went to bed:

beautifully directed, artfully performed, artistic and disturbing - especially the credits

Pretty much sums it up.

The Politics of Daylight Saving Time

A little something I came across in yesterday's research:

In the mid-1980s, Clorox (parent of Kingsford Charcoal) and 7-Eleven provided the primary funding for the Daylight Saving Time Coalition behind the 1987 extension to US DST, and both Idaho senators voted for it based on the premise that during DST fast-food restaurants sell more French fries, which are made from Idaho potatoes. 

Wikipedia

OhMyGodIt'sTaxSeasonAgain!

Right on the heels of HalloThanksMas, too!

January 1…

…is really the worst possible day to start a new year on. 

76003.1414

I agree. What's the point of starting the year (or anything, for that matter) cold and in the dark (not to mention hung over), and facing the IRS? (Not that the the IRS is going to be interested until February, but that's a different story.)

June 1 would be good because nothing's going on then. Days are warm and long, evenings are cool, and there's no hubbub. Maybe the New Year should coincide with Memorial Day because what better time to remember all the things that have happened in the previous nine months.

Face it, the other three months don't amount to much, celebration-wise.  The nation's birthday bash is in July surrounded by nothing other than good weather, if you're lucky - no competing holidays. Maybe that's intentional. Plan all the celebrating for the dark months so we won't all go moping around, and spotlight Independence Day by giving it its own season - summer.

Before you know it, summer is over and we have Labor Day - as in, get ready for the long haul, fellas, because we've got a lot of work to do! We ramp up slowly before the holiday season (let's just call it the holiday year, shall we?) starts to skid out of control.

October had two holidays: Columbus Day and Halloween. November had two more - Veterans Day and Thanksgiving - unless you want to count Election Day (when it occurs) and Daylight Saving, which should be holidays. December only had one, although it was a doozy followed one week later by New Years - which if Congress approves my plan will be moved to June 1 and we'll all get a much needed break to join a gym or take a nap next year. Whichever suits your preference.

And now we're into Tax Season which isn't a holiday and shouldn't be a season either. What's the point of making nearly 146 million people file returns all on the same day? Wouldn't it be better if we did it like we queue up for voting? According to the spelling of our last names. We don't all queue up in the same line for groceries, do we? Or toll booths? On the same day, no less. We figure out a system and we fan out.

It's not like we don't have other things to do. In January, there's Martin Luther King Day. February has two more holidays (Lincoln's and Washington's birthdays) but I don't get those days off work so are they really holidays? Plus, there's Valentine's Day which gets way more attention than the actual holidays but still remains a non-holiday.

In March we have St. Patrick's Day and another Daylight Saving Day. Where is all this daylight we're saving, by the way? Is there a vault somewhere? (Is it in Hawaii??) Should one day be called Daylight Saving and the other one be called Daylight Spending? Who's in charge? (Oh wait, that was Congress. Makes sense now.)

March also requires corporations to file tax returns. Buzz kill!

April 2014 is insane! It starts with has April Fools Day (which doesn't appear on my calendar but I thought it worth mentioning since some people put a lot of creative effort into this day) and ends with Tax Day. Oh, I wish that were true because it's so beautifully ironic. Good Friday, Easter, and Earth Day fall after April 15th (Earth Day seems out of place nestled amongst religious holidays, doesn't it?), Palm Sunday is before April 15th, and Passover actually begins on April 15th.

In some places, April is also host to Patriot's Day which is not to be confused with Patriot Day. (Not Congress, this time. Massachusetts. Although, to be fair, Massachusetts got there first.)

Things start to wind down in May. We start with a party on the fifth (Cinco de Mayo) and we celebrate Mothers Day. Finally, there's Memorial Day - as in, where did the year go, I don't remember!

Let us not forget our Fathers in June (after the new year,  revised). But let's face it. They don't get nearly the play that the moms do. In fact, it doesn't even appear on my calendar! Flag Day does. Go figure. (Check your calendar, then go write an angry letter to Whoever's In Charge.)

The Fourth of July would be a good start to the year, with the celestial candles and all, being, as it is, in the middle of a holiday void. (Who really considers Flag Day a holiday?)

All I know is January 1 isn't the beginning. It's the freaking middle.

Into The Future

Last night, I received a message from the future. It was: "Greetings from 2014. All good so far. " What a relief.

I hope the trend continues. I expect it will because the message originated from the Oracle who is generally trustworthy. Although, if you ask him "What's for dinner?" he will invariably respond with "Chili dogs." I happen to love chili dogs so I don't find this to be a problem. However, if I'm in the mood for something else, I will find a different source for menu planning.

Yesterday's post was intended to be a wrap up of 2013 and a snarky comment on "news" that is presented as either a list or a slide show. Or, as is more often the case, both. I can do without either and especially both. Although there are a couple of lists I've been referring to lately which are found in IMDb and Rotten Tomatoes since I can otherwise find nothing of interest to watch.

I tried to figure out some HTML code to present my 2013 Wrap Up in a slideshow format when I became distracted and ended up posting what you saw here yesterday. The distraction was, "What should we do tonight on the last day of the year?"

This, at 5 pm.

We already had dinner reservations at a nice, nearby restaurant. But wouldn't going to Portland be more fun?, we suddenly asked ourselves. So, on a bit of a lark, we bid on a hotel room on priceline.com and found ourselves with a reservation at the Nines. We grabbed our coats, hats, and toothbrushes and headed for the door, canceling our earlier dinner reservation as we drove across the river.

I was worried we were going to get downtown only to find that we'd have to eat at McDonalds because we wouldn't get last minute dinner reservations on New Year's Eve. We were checked into the hotel by 6 pm and headed directly to their restaurant, Urban Farmer, whereupon we were informed they had a table available at 6:30.

Perfect! After a sumptuous meal, we found the rooftop bar which was warmed with outdoor heaters. We watched young couples take selfies against the night sky, sharply dressed and oh, so young. They were giddy with the ending of one year and the beginning another, full of hopeful anticipation. We didn't want to spoil their fun.

Christmas tree in Pioneer Square

Looking towards the Willamette River

By midnight, we were in our room watching TV and counting down until the ball dropped in Times Square.

We had a nice breakfast this morning and did a little shopping downtown before coming home to get some house chores done. Chores aside, I'd agree with the Oracle. So far 2014 is shaping up pretty well.

But now it's time to make some dinner. Tuna melts tonight. But maybe chili dogs tomorrow.