needles & vectors

My dad is an annoying optimist. No matter how horribly things are going for him, his reply to “How are you doing?” remains the same: “I couldn’t be better, not matter what.” The man may have a face as red as a cherry from anger and yet, still, he thinks things couldn’t be better. If you disappoint him, he will forever remain certain you were just having an off day, that you’ll try harder or do better at listening to the good that is within us all. He almost always has a big, goofy grin on his face except in the most serious situations. And he’s not deluding himself, he really thinks his life is always amazing, whether because it’s actually good or because he thinks it’s working in that direction.

I do not take after him this way.

Ask me how I am doing, I will most likely complain. It’s too hot. It’s too cold. I have too much work to get done. My team mates are idiots. I can’t find something to do. Clothing never fits me. Things are too expensive. People take too long to cross at crosswalks when I’m driving. My Twitter feed, yeah, that’s just my place to whine about how horrible my middle-class, intellectually and creatively-stimulating life is. I am a first class whiner, no doubt about it.

But, I am trying to change. Really, I am. I can’t say I’ll take my dad’s standard answer, but I’m trying out “I’m still here.” as my usual “How are you?” response. Because, really, how bad can things be if you have your health, shelter, food, and clean drinking water?

Today is my mom’s birthday. It’s not one of the big ones, but an in-between one. I’ll be nice and not give a specific number, though you all could probably deduce if you know my age. She’s still one of the first people I call when something happens (good or bad). Growing up, she always made it a point to make us have dinner as a family, to finish our homework before doing anything fun, to celebrate when we did something well (or didn’t do well but tried our hardest), and taught us to never buy something at full price. She wanted to give us everything she wasn’t given growing up in a large family, but insisted that we work for every dollar and spend that dollar only on things we needed or really, really wanted. She pushed us to do things we didn’t want to do but were in our best interests, through all of our whining and complaining. I look back now and am happy for this, more than anything. She really wants my brother and I do be good people and to do good things, even when it’s the more difficult path. And, for that, I thank her.

(With embarrassing old photos)

This was probably taken shortly after I was born. As you can tell, my mom wore the hottest look in glasses in 1984.

Dressed up and ready to go to church on Easter Sunday.

My parents house sit for a guy named Marvin for a few years while he and his wife took an extended trip to Europe. My Aunt Tricia is on the left with my cousin, Chelsey, with my mom, me, and my little brother on the right. I actually have memories of when we lived there though they’re really, really fuzzy.

Second grade (or so) church directory photo. I remember all I wanted to do that day was go to a friend’s birthday party but my mom insisted on us getting our photo taken. “Everyone will wonder why we aren’t in the directory!”

My mom and I on my wedding day. As you can tell, I got my photo smile from her (and good skin).

So, happy birthday, Mom. I hope you can find some joy in your day today, even as you watch Finding Nemo for the 100th time because your students just cannot focus any longer. You have a birthday surprise waiting for you when I come to visit.

Yesterday evening, I came home to a little pink sign hanging on my doorknob. I grabbed it without looking and walked inside.

“Your water has been turned off due to : bill non-payment. Please call 1-800-XXX-XXXX immediately.”

Gah! We don’t pay our water bill, our landlady does. Quick phone call to her. Apparently she forgot to pay it, lost the first notice, and paid last week when she got the second notice. Too bad the check got to them yesterday and had to be received by Friday. So, our water won’t be turned back on until sometime between 8:30 and 4:30 today.

Needless to say, we went out and had a very long dinner before coming home and watching Weeds via Netflix. You never realize how much you use water until you can’t. Don’t worry – she brought by a ton of bottles of water for us to use. She also offered a hotel stay but I’d much rather sleep in my own bed. Plus, both of our workplaces have showers we can use.

And now, I’m zooming off to a fun-filled day of meetings. At least I won’t be sitting in my cubicle all day…

I’m not a big fan of going to see a movie in a movie theater. Tickets cost too much, the people sitting behind me usually talk through the whole thing, and – worst of all – the soundtrack is usually way, way too loud for my sensitive ears. I much rather watch a movie at home where I can snuggle in a blanket, pause to grab a “free” snack or use the restroom, and the volume can be held at normal levels. But, Matt loves going to see summer action flicks on the big screen.

Yesterday we went and saw the second Iron Man movie. I really enjoyed the last one – mostly for the pacifisim versus defense contractor theme and cool gadgets, not the pure action. This movie wasn’t nearly as good.

Sure, you there’s a great action sequence at the end but the rest, eh. Tony Starke is being poisoned to death by the generator that lives in his body, he has to go before the Senate Armed Services Committee who is trying to take his suit from him, and his creepy competitor is trying to build his own set of suits.  Plus you see what happened after that meeting with Samuel L. Jackson in the stay-until-the-credits-are-over sequence from the first movie. And there’s a new enemy who is Russian and loves his bird (not a euphemism).

There’s no real depth to this movie. No love story, no real moral questions. You get to “meet” his dad but the father/son relationship is only a small plot device, not the bigger theme I think it should have been.

If you want action, go see it. Otherwise, stay home and watch the original on Netflix.

(Later post due to running group meet-up this morning. 4 miles in 55 minutes, if you’re curious.)

I have a love/hate relationship with cleaning.

For the hate, I blame my mom. Every Saturday was cleaning day, starting with the bathroom then proceeding through the rest of the house.  No matter what was going on that weekend, if we were home, we’d have to clean. It drove me bonkers. When I moved out, I decided I would never again put an entire day aside just to clean.

Yet, cleaning is a fun challenge. Can you figure out how to put everything away in its place so things are easy to get to yet don’t make things look cluttered? Can you clean every smudge off the bathroom sink? Can you finally get all the cat hair out from behind the filing cabinet? It’s like a battle with dirt as your enemy. And, when you’re done, you can really, truly relax because your home no longer makes your skin crawl.

The hate usually wins, which is probably why our place is often a mess. Sure, it’s looks great when we have people over, but that’s only because we spent a few hours scrambling to make it look that way. Having people over more often has helped keep things clean, but if it’s been more than a week or two, things can get bad.

Cat hair on every surface. Crud on the kitchen floor. Overflowing trashcans in the office and bedroom. You get the picture.

When I got home from running this morning, the cleanup began. Matt started downstairs, me upstairs. Divide and conquer.

My much cleaner desk. Still has lots on it but, hey, I need all of it handy. The bins below contain my yarn stash. Yes, all of it. Really.

Cardboard and paper recycling, plus a wine rack to be put away. Always feels good to have a giant pile of stuff waiting to be taken away.

We’ve only made a little progress so far but I am already starting to feel better. Alison is moving in next weekend and I want to make sure the place looks only a little like a disaster area by then.

Some people blog every day. My cousin, Chelsey, among them. They show photos of their day, tell little stories, give quick updates about what’s going on in their lives. But, me, I can’t blog daily. I try to. Sometimes even manage to do so for two or three weeks.

Then, it happens, I realize just how boring my life is. During the school year, it’s all homework, projects, and tests. During the summer, it’s all about work. Sure, there’s some knitting content every now and then, but, really, that’s not exciting enough to write about every day.

But, who cares? This is my blog. I am boring. I am okay with that. Even when I think I have nothing new to say or show or explain, I can still blog. My mom will still come here and read my posts and although she rarely comments, something I talk about only here will come up in a later conversation. Sarah and Anastasia and Marlyn will leave a comment that reminds me that, even though they are all at least 1,000 miles away, they still care about what’s going on in my life.

And I will be so very, very greatful that I took those ten or so minutes to sit down and write what was on my mind.

Then proceed to forget about my blog enitrely until some random point in time when I begin, again, to feel guilty for not blogging often.

And, again, I will blog about how bad of a blogger I am and my friends will reassure me that they don’t care – just want to know that I’m still alive and well and haven’t suddenly given up knitting.

This is why I will try my absolute best to blog daily from now on. For my friends and my mom.