About Location: Vermont, USA Navigation current Enjoying: Lead-climbing. Lead-falling. Bouldering. Advil." "The night before last, I dreamed about the mansion and estates of a family whose oldest ancestor was preserved in poisonous chemicals a vault at the heart of the house: but every now and then he was lifted out, drained, and shaved of the mold that had gathered on his dead skin, and at these moments he could be asked questions and he would answer." --sovay, 09/16/07 Archive
Old teenage hopes alive at your door
No one likes a girl who won't sober up
Why am I able to waste my energy to notice life being so beautiful?
He doesn't see the danger dawning
What in the world ever became of Sweet Jane? Credits template concept & |
September 19, 2007 I'm being stalked by Feist. Exhibit 1: As soon as I tried to tune a radio station on last.fm, no matter what artists I chose, last.fm brought me Feist. Ani diFranco? You'll like Feist. Mountain Goats? You'll like Feist. Phil Collins? You'll like Feist. Which, now that I think of it, is not so much evidence of stalking as it is of a broken algorithm. Exhibit 2: WRUV wanted me to like Feist, and played a boppy, disco non-1234 song for me one horrible Saturday when I had to work while under the weather. It made the morning more tolerable. And then it turned out that Feist was playing in Burlington. Exhibit 3: Feist's the boppy happy songster in those new iPod Nano commercials. C'mon. You know you bop along. Here. Bop along some more. It's that kind of evening. September 12, 2007
August 28, 2007
May 25, 2007 El Yo and I slept downstairs in the basement Thursday night, because Vermont is suffering a heat wave, and the elder--I'm sorry, "active"--bunnies were hogging the one working air conditioner. Neo and his new adorable (and utterly insane) bonded-rabbit-mate Trishelle have already taken up residence in the basement, because it's better safe than sorry, and I'm paranoid enough that if it gets above 60 degrees (F) I start stashing fluffbutts in the freezer. So there we all were: me, El Yo, Neo, his crazy (but hot!) ladybunny Trishelle, and just the one futon. Turns out, five a.m. is the perfect time for rabbits to throw off their shyness and attack the humans. Or as El Yo put it: You know you want pets. May 20, 2007 It's been quiet here on the posting front for an entirely different reason than the usual ones. About a month ago, I woke up from a night of climbing to find that I didn't have the strength in my right hand to hold a coffee cup, let alone a crimpy hold. After noticing that advil and ice weren't making a dent in the pain (or the lack of grip strength), I didn't climb for three whole weeks. Three long, torturous, grumpy weeks. Three weeks where everywhere I looked, I saw climbing holds. The edge of the doorframe, the wall moulding, the edges of the cubicle walls at work, the shelves at the grocery store. Everywhere. But I did it, I didn't climb for three weeks. And then when I did go back, I made myself only do 5.5s and 5.6s, not the 5.9+ lead routes I'd previously been falling from. When I woke up the next morning and my arm didn't hurt too badly, I did it again; I went back a few days later and climbed some more, 5.6s and 5.7s, and one eensy, weensy 5.8 on lead. Yeah, I reinjured my arm. In spectacular enough fashion that I now need two bags of ice, for the two different places it hurts. I am made of awesome. So. I'm trying to see this as an opportunity to work on cardio and lower-body weight training. I'm revising my goals and my timetables. Eventually I'll read up on resistance-training as PT, but in the short-term, I'm focusing on getting strong enough to do little things, like grip a kickboard in the pool. And I'm not climbing. I hate this. It helps that I have a wide bevy of distractions at my disposal: books to read, tv to catch up on, rabbits to cater to, a house to renovate, a garden to plant (one-handed of course). And I'm ignoring all the climby things I see everywhere: the ivy slithering up the fence, the squirrel scurrying up the underside of a roof strut, the spider blithely hanging out on the ceiling. Really, I'm ignoring them. It also helps that I get phone calls from The Transient Oregonian, herself no stranger to injury (she has a punch pass for physical therapy), reminding me to knock it off and go for a brisk walk, just as I'm thinking about bouldering round my kitchen. It's uncanny, it's like she can see through the phone. I'm trying to remain calm, really I am. It's just a huge shock to go from climbing three times a week to a dead halt. To add insult to this injury, it's finally sunny here. Which means that I am also not boating: no rowing, no kayaking, no sailing, no windsurfing, nada. Except that in the grand scheme of things, being sidelined another month or so is not a huge problem. I have a roof over my head, food to eat, a motley assortment of cranky pets, and a library to put Alexandria to shame. Now all I have to do is remember to use a ladder to get spices out of the cupboards. May 5, 2007 We took all the pups downtown to Church St, and wandered up and down while various people stopped to squeal, pet or marvel at them. We also got to take them into OId Navy to look at toys, where we were soundly glared at by a tight-lipped pregnant woman. I did wonder about what people thought that it was all 4'10" of me in control of the big puppy, but he walked very well on leash, and the worst he got up to was accidentally slobbering on a curious toddler. And as everyone knows, toddlers are totally washable. May 3, 2007 Two good fish stories this morning: 1. Fucking Sharks. You blew a two-period-long two-goal lead? What? Don't make me come over there. 2. God of War and God of War II are amazingly violent video games that also happen to be very, very pretty. The combination of these factors makes them perfect to knit to, as long as you happen to have a gamer handy to, y'know, make them go. Anyway, after you finish the second game, you have the option of choosing a different outfit for Kratos, the eponymic God of War. You can in fact dress him up as a fish. As the options point out, you do indeed get to make him run around fighting all his enemies again as the He even has fishhooks instead of swords. Endless amusement.
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