I'm the Master of the Universe.

I went running along the waterfront today. It was warm, but a little cloudy. I actually enjoyed running for a few fleeting moments. There were Canada Gooses in the water. There was a raging beer fest on the opposite shore. I was criss-crossing through people walking and passing them. I ran over the Willamette and felt energized. It was a great few minutes. I wish I had the stamina to maintain it and could have kept running for hours without tiring. But, alas, I tired. I walked past most of the beer fest. Drunken happy couples, circles of friends eating in the grass, the dull roar of thousands of people standing in line. I ran again to get away from it and back on a bridge where I was once again a Master of the Universe.

On Friday.

I was in NW on Friday night and went to park my bike on a side street when I passed a bike with notes taped to it. So, being the nosy person that I am, I stopped to read them. I enjoyed them so much that I took a photo. Enjoy.


Then a fight almost broke out at Matador at 7 o’clock. A little early for a barfight if you ask me. But if it’s going to come to blows in a bar, that’s a good place to do it. Smoke, dark, PBR, tater tots. Hells yeah.

Speak to us of Pain.

Sometimes when I’m feeling a little lost or out of sorts I will flip open “The Prophet” by Kahlil Gibran to a random page and wait for the wisdom to direct me. Sometimes it’s eerily apt, other times not so much. But today was good, as I was feeling sad and couldn’t quite pinpoint the cause.

“And a woman spoke saying, Tell us of Pain,
And he said:
Your pain is the breaking of the shell that encloses your understanding.
Even as the stone of the fruit must break, that its heart may stand in the sun, so must you know pain.
And could you keep your heart in wonder at the daily miracles of your life, your pain would not seem less wondrous than your joy;
And you would accept the seasons of your heart, even as you have always accepted the seasons that pass over your field.
And you would watch with serenity through the winters of your grief.

Much of your pain is self-chosen.
It is the bitter potion by which the physician within you heals your sick self.
Therefore trust the physician, and drink his remedy in silence and tranquility.”

It was apt. Especially after a very long psychoanalytical conversation with a friend that happened later in the day. Thank the Unseen for great writers and good friends.

My butt is always either warmed by my car seat or covered by my sweater. I have to keep it at optimum temperature or I could die from mild discomfort.

I grew up in Texas. Everyone had air conditioning. It was a given. I remember hearing about “optional AC” on cars and being completely confused. How could you have a car without air conditioning? You would die. It was absurd.

Summers growing up were about 104 from the end of May through the end of September and at least in the 90’s from the end of March through the end of October. 75 on Christmas was not out of the question. I grew up with central air inside and a pool outside. If we were to go out it was from the air-conditioned house, to the air-conditioned car (albeit it took a while to cool off) to an air-conditioned store or restaurant. The only place to really feel the heat was walking through a parking lot.

Now, being an adult and on my own, I haven’t had the luxury of air conditioning in my home in several years. Not since I lived in Arizona (again, or I would die) and before that not since Texas. It’s a strange thing to grow accustomed to, living with the windows open. I can’t close the shades or I’ll lose my cross breeze. I do have a thermostat in my apartment now, so I can monitor just how warm it’s getting inside my apartment. The last week has been pretty warm here in Oregon (80s and 90s) and I have managed to keep it under 82. I haven’t broken that number yet, and I think that’s pretty good. But, I must admit that sleeping with the fan on, the windows open and on top of the sheets under a light blanket is not adding up to a good night’s sleep and sometimes I long for the comforts of childhood and the AC vent blowing on my bed at night.

3 Chicks and a Fat Married Guy

On a whim, without really thinking it through, I sent a link to the “Rock n’ Relay” to two of my friends and asked if they would want to do it. It is a marathon relay, with each team member running about 6 miles total. That’s three laps of two miles each.

On first glance this sounded like oodles of fun. A running team! Only 2 miles (I obviously didn’t do the math in my head right away)! Music and food in the park while you wait! But about an hour after I sent this out and both of my friends agreed to do it, I began to regret my decision.

I am a novice runner to say the least. I do not like running. I hate it. I like how it makes me feel when I’m done, I enjoy the sense of accomplishment, but generally speaking when I am running I want to kill anything in my periphery and I swear like a sailor. I ran my first race this year for Cinco de Mayo. It was a 5k. I didn’t even run the whole thing. I ran a lot of it, a lot more of it than I thought I would. But that was only 3 miles.

So, the race is at the beginning of August, and I have a team, which consists of 3 chicks and a fat married guy. And we are going to lose, but hopefully finish. Today is my first day of “training” and running with a teammate. Two miles is on the agenda. I’m a little terrified. Plus it’s super hot today, which never helps. There is a reason running didn’t stick when I lived in Texas, or Tuscon. Heat + Excessive physical strain = Evil.

Bakey Goodness.

I made English Muffins! I did not spend $2.50 on a package of 6 fluffy, crispy, doughy, buttery breakfast muffins, but I made them. It took me a couple hours, but in the end I have a heaping plate of 18 muffins for a total cost of about…..$2.00-$2.50. Not too shabby. And they really weren’t as hard as I though they would be. Plus I got to use my rolling pin, which I don’t get to whip out very often.

I know I have touched on this subject before, but it always surprises me when I start to kneed bread how natural it is. It’s instinctual. It’s something that people do, humans do, and thousands upon thousands of years of women have done before me. And that makes me very happy.

And while we are on the subject of doing things myself to cost less money, I am going to try and start chronicling the things I do that might take a little longer, but save on the cents, as those are becoming increasingly rare to have lying around these days. This weekend I baked muffins and bread instead of buying them for a savings of about $5.00 on the muffins and $2.00 on the bread. I went to a friend’s house last night and instead of driving or taking the Max I rode my bike both ways saving $3.50 (for the round trip Max ticket) or $3.50 (est. Gas), plus I got a good workout. I also bought fertilizer for my container garden in bulk instead of buying a huge box that I won’t ever use, saving me about $5.00. Total savings this weekend: $15.50!! Can I get that in cash??

Oh, plus, here’s my garden today:And as a reminder here it is about a month ago.They grow up so fast!! I have my first flowers on the tomato plant and I am anxiously awaiting its fruits. Price of tomato plant: $1.99, and I’m sure I’ll get more than my money’s worth in tomatoes very soon.

Life on Mars.

I am watching the American version of Life on Mars right now, originally an excellent BBC Drama about a cop who fell into a coma and “woke up” in 1972. Whether he traveled through time or was dreaming the whole thing was the premise of the show. It was at its core a police procedural drama and a thought provoking sci-fi and a cultural commentary. I loved the BBC series up until the last scene, when it took what I would consider a decidedly “Hollywood” ending.

So, needless to say, I am very wary of the actual Hollywood version. So, far it’s following plot points, names, and even lifted dialogue (I am pretty sure). Only difference so far is Manchester = LA, It all seems exactly the same. Shot for shot, color palette, sound effects, costumes, set pieces. Oh, he drives a different car in the past. Otherwise the same show with American actors. But, I do favor the BBC version. The original is almost always better.

On bike riding.

So, I bought a bike just before I moved into my new place. Her name is June, and she is an old, yellow, Schwinn. She squeaks, and doesn’t go too fast, but she’s been getting me around town and I have been getting better at riding. The first time I rode to work (about 5 miles) I was exhausted, out of breath and didn’t recover for at least an hour. Today, I rode to work and wasn’t even that sweaty. I recovered in about 10 minutes.

My goal is to drive only when necessary. Only when it takes me out of riding range, or I have to haul something that I can’t carry on my back. My other goal is to ride to work at least two days a week. There have only been a couple times that I have broken these rules so far and I felt really guilty about it the whole time.

I could go into my reasons for getting a bike: gas prices, blah, health, blah, traffic, blah. You’ve heard them all before. And while they are all great reasons, another reason I have discovered is solitude. When you ride you get to be alone. Although that’s a half-truth in Portland because there are other bikers everywhere. It gives you time with yourself, time to think, to ponder, to extrapolate. The rhythm of you legs pumping is almost a mantra. It’s peaceful. And there can never be too much peace in one person’s life.

And the cat came back.

Have you ever had one of those days? Or one of those weeks? I just did. But I think it’s over now. When it’s one thing after another of rejection, abandonment, worry, and then the final kick when you’re down to finish the job. Things were not turning around and just when I thought, surely, this has to be the last car on the train, another would come barreling at me. But last night, the first good thing happened. My lost cat returned. He ran off on Wednesday night and didn’t return after a sudden thunderstorm. I was devastated. And to all of you out there who say it was just a cat, I say to you – screw you and go to hell. Bur he’s back now and I am back in my role of crazy cat lady, and the world seems in order.

Today was quite good as well. I got up early, made some eggs and potatoes (which were amazing – thank you Farmer’s Market!) and then went to my first ever Spinning class. It was awesome. It wasn’t nearly as intimidating as I thought it would be and I was able to push myself just hard enough that I didn’t feel like I was going to puke (but that line was in sight). Then I cleaned my entire apartment, top to bottom, which has fallen into disarray this last week, as my mind has been in disarray. It looks awesome now. Then I went to Mt. Tabor and hiked around. It was my first time out there and despite Ht. Hood being obscured by the clouds, it was still an awesome view and I had a great time outdoors. I’m also actually cooking again tonight, which seemed to have fallen by the wayside last week. Baked Rosemary Chicken, Herbed Potatoes with Onions and Garlic Spears. Oh yeah. You can’t go wrong with meat and potatoes.

It seems that things are back in order and back on track and well on their way to getting me out of this funk. Onward, upward and further.