Dude! The weather is CRAZY here! And that's not supposed to be swearing in the title - just incredulity. All last week the forecast was for snow accumulation and freezing temperatures, with very underwhelming results. Every day, actually every hour, I was re-checking the forecast hoping that I wouldn't have to go to work. Finally yesterday, my first day off for Christmas, it dumped snow the whole day!
Last night I was supposed to take the train to Seattle, but after sitting on the tracks for 1.5 hours I got skeptical and bailed. Thankfully the lady at the counter inside was able to get me another seat on a 'sold out' train for today at 8:30am. But when I arrived at the station this morning I was informed that all trains were cancelled due to ice on the rails. The train that I was supposed to be on last night did leave shortly after I got off, only to return to Portland a few hours later. An earlier train that left yesterday afternoon had still not arrived in Seattle this morning - 15 hours later!!!
So I am sad to be missing out on time with my family, but very glad not to be stuck in some train for hours on end. I've been passing the time by reading, taking intermittent naps, continuing to check the forecast for tomorrow, baking rolls, and staring out the window. Now it's time to walk to the store for some dinner supplies. And tonight we get to watch the last 2 episodes of 24: Season 1!
Sunday, December 21, 2008
Thursday, December 11, 2008
The Things We Fight About
A somewhat frequent point of contention between Jesse and I is determining what makes up acceptable attire.
On Sunday morning before church he informed me that he was about to start a fight by putting on a particular pair of pants that I don't like very much because they are a little small, but that they were his only option. After some investigation and negotiation I disagreed that they were his only option - or even his best option, but assented without further argument that I wouldn't be upset with him for wearing them.
What I was NOT prepared for was the awl-like tool* I saw him using in the middle of the church service. He was just sitting there, sawing away, attempting to make another hole in his already-too-small belt. After a few sharp glances from me, he stopped and no more was said about it until we got home and Sara and I demanded answers.
Apparently the belt was not large enough to go low enough around his waist for that pair of pants. I think that a good general rule for belts, regardless of style or placement on waist, is: if you are attempting to insert another hole in a belt a mere 2-3 centimeters from the end of the belt, that belt is too small. I said as much, he did not agree. A heated, quite humorous argument ensued.
Round 1:
"Maybe it's time for us to get you some more belts."
"No! I have plenty of belts."
"Why don't you wear a different belt with those pants then?"
"Well, I have two that are exactly the same as this one that I got for free from my job at Fort Vancouver, and my other belt has paint all over it."
"...So we should get you a new belt."
"But this one is fine! I just have to make a new hole in it."
"The end won't even tuck into the flap! It will stick out!"
"It's okay, my shirt covers it, it's not that bad."
Sara and I: "It is that bad."
Round 2:
"Jesse, I really admire your resourcefulness and creativity. If you were a homeless person figuring out how to survive, or if we just couldn't afford to clothe ourselves and you were coming up with solutions to shield yourself from the elements, I would be impressed. But this is an accessory. You are violating all laws of fashion and aesthetic appeal for an accessory! Just take the belt off! It's like making a decorative hat out of old grocery bags to impress people."
(I was grasping at straws here for illustrations and that one didn't work quite so well, but it served it's purpose.)
Ignoring me: "Sara, it's a good thing she's funny or I would be really mad right now."
Then, continuing: "But Alexis, I need a belt with these pants." He then demonstrated why by bending over and explaining how he didn't like them to move up and down his waist/butt when leaning forward or sitting.
Round 3:
In the midst of more circular assertions, Sara and I both tried on the jeans in question. Me for some unknown reason, her to see if they would work for maternity pants.
This helped me deliver some more potent blows:
"Okay, remember when I had your pants on? And they were huge on me? I was swimming around in them? Right. So, from that we know that I am smaller than you."
Holding up my belt next to his belt: "Why, then, is my belt SO MUCH BIGGER THAN YOURS???"
"Fine, then give me your belt."
Sputtering: "Uhhhh...okay...but..."
So, we traded belts. His response, "See? Getting stuff for free is WAY better than buying it!"**
It all ended - or at least recessed - a while later with Sara wisely proclaiming, "Where fashion and frugality collide is where a home is made!"
When he got home from frisbee hours later, he asked, "Is Sara still here?"
"No, she went home a while ago."
"Oh, I was hoping she'd still be here."
"Why?"
"So I could flip you guys some more bull... [pause] I love flipping bull."
*I learned later it was a center-punch.
**Jesse is not criminally frugal in all areas, by any means. He's really very generous with me, just not with himself.
On Sunday morning before church he informed me that he was about to start a fight by putting on a particular pair of pants that I don't like very much because they are a little small, but that they were his only option. After some investigation and negotiation I disagreed that they were his only option - or even his best option, but assented without further argument that I wouldn't be upset with him for wearing them.
What I was NOT prepared for was the awl-like tool* I saw him using in the middle of the church service. He was just sitting there, sawing away, attempting to make another hole in his already-too-small belt. After a few sharp glances from me, he stopped and no more was said about it until we got home and Sara and I demanded answers.
Apparently the belt was not large enough to go low enough around his waist for that pair of pants. I think that a good general rule for belts, regardless of style or placement on waist, is: if you are attempting to insert another hole in a belt a mere 2-3 centimeters from the end of the belt, that belt is too small. I said as much, he did not agree. A heated, quite humorous argument ensued.
Round 1:
"Maybe it's time for us to get you some more belts."
"No! I have plenty of belts."
"Why don't you wear a different belt with those pants then?"
"Well, I have two that are exactly the same as this one that I got for free from my job at Fort Vancouver, and my other belt has paint all over it."
"...So we should get you a new belt."
"But this one is fine! I just have to make a new hole in it."
"The end won't even tuck into the flap! It will stick out!"
"It's okay, my shirt covers it, it's not that bad."
Sara and I: "It is that bad."
Round 2:
"Jesse, I really admire your resourcefulness and creativity. If you were a homeless person figuring out how to survive, or if we just couldn't afford to clothe ourselves and you were coming up with solutions to shield yourself from the elements, I would be impressed. But this is an accessory. You are violating all laws of fashion and aesthetic appeal for an accessory! Just take the belt off! It's like making a decorative hat out of old grocery bags to impress people."
(I was grasping at straws here for illustrations and that one didn't work quite so well, but it served it's purpose.)
Ignoring me: "Sara, it's a good thing she's funny or I would be really mad right now."
Then, continuing: "But Alexis, I need a belt with these pants." He then demonstrated why by bending over and explaining how he didn't like them to move up and down his waist/butt when leaning forward or sitting.
Round 3:
In the midst of more circular assertions, Sara and I both tried on the jeans in question. Me for some unknown reason, her to see if they would work for maternity pants.
This helped me deliver some more potent blows:
"Okay, remember when I had your pants on? And they were huge on me? I was swimming around in them? Right. So, from that we know that I am smaller than you."
Holding up my belt next to his belt: "Why, then, is my belt SO MUCH BIGGER THAN YOURS???"
"Fine, then give me your belt."
Sputtering: "Uhhhh...okay...but..."
So, we traded belts. His response, "See? Getting stuff for free is WAY better than buying it!"**
It all ended - or at least recessed - a while later with Sara wisely proclaiming, "Where fashion and frugality collide is where a home is made!"
When he got home from frisbee hours later, he asked, "Is Sara still here?"
"No, she went home a while ago."
"Oh, I was hoping she'd still be here."
"Why?"
"So I could flip you guys some more bull... [pause] I love flipping bull."
*I learned later it was a center-punch.
**Jesse is not criminally frugal in all areas, by any means. He's really very generous with me, just not with himself.
Festive V
I really like Nativity sets/scenes of all kinds and I received this one as a gift this summer. Our friend's son does a lot of sculpting and our friend and he made this one together. It's hard to see in this picture, but I really like the way that Joseph's face has the most definition, Mary's a little less, and the baby's face is the least defined.
My friend, Taylor, gave this to me this summer, as well. She got it on a recent trip to Israel and it was carved by a Palestinian Christian out of olive wood.
Wednesday, December 10, 2008
Festive IV
At the PSU market we saw our friend Rebecca. We go to church with her and her husband, Rob, and she did the bouquets for our wedding. That bundle of Christmas greens she is holding ended up at our house. :-)
Here's Robert, the genius behind Knife Gun Pen and the guy who did the reading at our wedding, getting his shot at Christmas-greens-photo fame.
Not as good as an actual tree, but it will do for this year.
Festive III
On Saturday Jesse and I went to PSU for a few hours so Jesse could use the library. The holiday market was in full swing, with all kinds of produce, decorations, crafts, cider, food, music, and more.
Saturday, December 6, 2008
Festive II
We don't really have much in the way of holiday decorations - or any decorations - displayed right now because I am a slacker and haven't put pictures on the walls yet, much less hung Christmas lights. But I do have some Christmasy candles out, and just the other day got some holiday teas from Safeway! I love tea when it is cold, and these flavors are especially tasty.
Festive I
A few weeks ago I walked around the corner on the way to work and there this tree was, standing in the middle of the park. I like it. And I love all the Christmas lights they have put up on all the trees on all the streets around here - everything looks very cheery and happy.
Friday, December 5, 2008
Hot Water Fail, Fire Alarm Win
After all my complaining about the fire alarms, I was grateful for ours last night.
I came home pretty late after work and I was cold. Thinking tea would be the perfect solution I put the kettle on to boil then sat down in the living room with my sandwich and the computer to show Jesse some things on Failblog.
The shrill noise of the alarm came as a bit of a shock and I looked over toward the kitchen to see flames shooting up from the stove. It seems I turned the wrong burner on and successfully set our potholder on fire. I flung the burning square into the sink to douse the flames, and thankfully we were able to open doors and fan away the smoke before it triggered the sprinkler system.
I came home pretty late after work and I was cold. Thinking tea would be the perfect solution I put the kettle on to boil then sat down in the living room with my sandwich and the computer to show Jesse some things on Failblog.
The shrill noise of the alarm came as a bit of a shock and I looked over toward the kitchen to see flames shooting up from the stove. It seems I turned the wrong burner on and successfully set our potholder on fire. I flung the burning square into the sink to douse the flames, and thankfully we were able to open doors and fan away the smoke before it triggered the sprinkler system.
Wednesday, December 3, 2008
Cowardice
Yesterday morning around 9:00 am I was at home, getting ready for the day. Over a period of time - 10 seconds? A minute? 2 minutes? I became aware of a disturbing, muted screaming sound. Not sure if it was a baby, a cat, or older person, I waited, semi-curious. Starting to think it sounded more human, I felt nervous and finally got up off the couch.
"What if someone really DOES need help?" "Well it's broad daylight, someone else will do something." "What if everyone else is at work? And what if it were you who needed help?"
By that point I was at the window, looking out in the courtyard. During this time, the yelling had become much more audible and I had heard the words, "Let me go! Just let me go!" I looked down and saw a woman on the patio outside one of the ground-floor apartments, crouching down and holding her head and her hair, crying and screaming at a man in the doorway. The man closed the door and disappeared.
The woman stayed on the ground, crying and rocking. I saw someone in the window of an apartment on another floor turn away and leave - they had been watching, too. It was clear that the woman was not in captivity, and was not being attacked (anymore). So it was over.
I thought about letting the office know. But what could they do? Then I thought that maybe the best thing would be to go down and talk to the woman, ask if she was okay, and ask if there was anything she needed or anything I could do for her. Then I decided that that was what I definitely should do. That was what I would do.
Except I didn't. Because I would have had to leave my apartment.
Walk downstairs. Initiate. Enter into a difficult situation. Interact. Care. Love.
And apparently that was just too much.
"What if someone really DOES need help?" "Well it's broad daylight, someone else will do something." "What if everyone else is at work? And what if it were you who needed help?"
By that point I was at the window, looking out in the courtyard. During this time, the yelling had become much more audible and I had heard the words, "Let me go! Just let me go!" I looked down and saw a woman on the patio outside one of the ground-floor apartments, crouching down and holding her head and her hair, crying and screaming at a man in the doorway. The man closed the door and disappeared.
The woman stayed on the ground, crying and rocking. I saw someone in the window of an apartment on another floor turn away and leave - they had been watching, too. It was clear that the woman was not in captivity, and was not being attacked (anymore). So it was over.
I thought about letting the office know. But what could they do? Then I thought that maybe the best thing would be to go down and talk to the woman, ask if she was okay, and ask if there was anything she needed or anything I could do for her. Then I decided that that was what I definitely should do. That was what I would do.
Except I didn't. Because I would have had to leave my apartment.
Walk downstairs. Initiate. Enter into a difficult situation. Interact. Care. Love.
And apparently that was just too much.
Tuesday, December 2, 2008
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