Attack Of The "Fancy Food"

I'm not contributing economically to the Marlboro Mesa, but I do errands, housework, and some limited cooking. The limited cooking is because when my sister and I discussed the possibility of my taking over cooking, she dubbed my style of cooking "fancy food" and shuddered. Okay, so I don't like to make the same recipe twice. And I use a lot of spices. And I'm a sucker for exotic ingredients. But it's usually really good! I have references!

A couple of weeks ago, Dusie went on a business trip and I made this for Jesse X. When he came home and saw the platter, he told me, "This is definitely fancy food."

But it's not! It's incredibly simple and easy! And he and Aces both enjoyed it.

This recipe for Moroccan Stuffed Peppers was the original inspiration, but as I read the recipe and review, I remembered that when I made this I was a little disappointed--I don't like mint, and the chutney made it too sweet. I liked the fact that the peppers stayed pretty crisp though, and the feta. So here's my version. The nice thing is that you can modify this to be WW compliant, or gluten-free, or whatever diet or taste issues you need to accommodate. And it's very quick and easy. I'd have put raisins in, but Dusie does not like them.

Kerry's Moroccan Stuffed Peppers

4 red peppers
1 tsp olive oil
4 cloves minced garlic
1 box couscous
1 can chickpeas
vegetable broth
1/4 cup diced onion
1 tb cumin
1 tsp cinnamon
1 tsp tumeric
feta cheese
pistachios, or Planters Pistachio Lovers Nut Mix (contains pistachios, cashews and almonds)

Cut the red peppers in half, put on a microwavable plate and cover with plastic wrap. Microwave 5 minutes.

Heat olive oil and saute garlic and onion. Add spices and stir to coat. Add drained chickpeas. Add vegetable broth (as much as it says to use to make the couscous according to the broth). Bring to a boil, and add couscous. Remove from heat.

Drain red peppers. Arrange on plate. Fluff the couscous mix, and mound over the peppers and top with feta and chopped nuts.

For Super C, Who Craves Girl Talk

Last week I went shopping. That is a bathing suit--I tried Target but they had nothing in my size, and little that looked appealing. So I wound up at the Land's End section of Sears and it was painfully expensive. It's flattering and feels modest though, and Dusie pointed that a bathing suit is a necessity in Phoenix and when did I last buy a swimsuit?

She was right--and that pool is damn refreshing after running.

The purse ($15) and sweater ($10) are from Marshall's. I like both the color and weight of the sweater, although the style is not the most flattering--a little too baggy and jejune with the cap sleeves and low round neck. The purse is exactly what I wanted in size, capacity and leather texture, but I would have never gone for the green had it not been on a second red tag markdown.

As for the rest of things, I am hopped up on caffeine, country music and chocolate waiting to hear about the job.

Quick Notes

1) Dr. Horrible's Sing A Long Blog is the saddest thing ever.

2) I don't think I could ever bring myself to live at El Diablo Apartments. Satan is your landlord! He also owns the carwash across the street. Fearing a NYC real estate crash, he diversified his holdings and bought in Tempe!

You can never judge an apartment building by its name (the Wintergarden Apartments had no garden, and was particularly miserable in winter) but that's just a bad sign, that you've fallen so low you live in El Diablo Apartments. I live in Hell, and the lease is not month-to-month.

This is up there with what for a long time was the worst named business in Lakewood, a jewelry store called Craven Silver. Yes, "craven" sounds like a power sales word but it means "cowardly." Bad connotations.

3) Jesse X is a vegetarian, but he grills all the meat for the household. My steak was perfect though.

Feed Another Quarter Into the Hype Machine

Dear NPR,

I get that Chelsea Cain's Heartsick was a good book. Super Librarian loved it, and I trust her judgment. But god, this was embarrassingly, irritatingly effusive. Can you turn down the gushing a bit, especially since she's only got one book out? Portland's a large and successful city and not that unusual a setting. My word.

Back In Business

It's amazing what a good job interview will do to raise your spirits.

Tuesday I journeyed out to a distant Maricopa County suburb. Wende will name it in 3 seconds--Northwest Valley exurb in its first stage of development, filled with young families and anchored by retail, tripled its population in 10 years. Ohioans--think Medina without the Amish. Potential job is as an Adult Services Librarian, doing reference, readers advisory, programming, collection stuff. What everyone thinks of when you say you're a librarian, as opposed to my other information work positions. Aces and I went out on Saturday to check it out, and I was impressed. I could see myself working there, and the library system has a history of innovation, and you know me--I like chaos and variety and change.

The whole day started out well, with Dusie giving me her recruiter pep talk after working out, telling me that I was so much more confident than I was before my last library interview in April, I looked good, I'd do well.

And I did. It started out when I walked in and they put me over by the new bestsellers to wait and an older fellow struck up conversation with me, a conversation that pulled in his wife and lasted a good 5-10 minutes until just before they called me in and included the question "Do you work here? You should work here!" and my response of "I hope to--I'm here for an interview!"

It was a standard behavioral question interview panel session with the HR person, the branch manager and the adult services supervisor. After a few of my answers I got some "good answer" and there was just good energy and response--I could feel it. And I was my enthusiastic, cheerful self, the self that I know isn't to everyone's taste but it's who I am and when I try to hide it or suppress it I wind up miserable and failing.

I asked what it was about my resume/background that piqued their interest, since it is a little...odd, and they said they had a lot of applicants with academic library experience, but the fact that I had public library experience made me stand out. So then I talked a little bit about the switch, how I had a job where I sat in a cubicle miserable (for various reasons I did not get into) and that forced me to think about my skills and personality where they would fit best. I have brains in abundance, I think fast and on my feet, I like to talk to people and they like to talk to me, I'm flexible, cheerful and enthusiastic, good in an emergency and people's weirdness doesn't freak me out. So it finally hit me--public librarianship. They liked that.

So I am very hopeful, and I should know today or tomorrow. And even if I don't get the job it was a fun conversation, triggered memories of other good anecdotes that illustrate my wonderfulness, and it was good practice. And I applied for other positions that I hope to hear back about soon.

What I wore:

My tan interview suit which did fit a lot better than before, my light blue sweater underneath, tiger's eye earrings, brown shoes (closed toe, without stockings--I just couldn't find anything brown and business sandal-like around here that I could afford). The self-tanner proved to be a mistake when Jesse X and I met up with Dusie at the airport to switch her bags and she gave me a weird look and asked "Did you put on self tanner?" It was like the looks I got the time I gave myself a chemical burn trying to use Nair to clean up my eyebrows. I also sprung for the Dusie approved light colored manicure, a pedicure and eyebrow wax for $36--I had to pay that for a pedicure only back in Ohio. God, I love it here.

A Short Hiatus

Dear kind and gentle readers,

I need to remove blogging from my "To Do" list for a few days to get other things done, but I need some advice. Dusie finally explained the whole stockings dilemma in terms I could grasp last weekend. Her summary--it's very hot out here, and no one wears stockings from February-October. You only wear stockings with closed toe shoes anyway, so therefore you only wear closed toe shoes during those months. The rest of the time you wear open toe shoes and get a pedicure. I know these Laws of Girl seem simple, but they were beyond me for a while--it was the open toe shoes being okay part that I had not fully grasped. (It was also a much funnier conversation in real time, as I was genuinely confused and she was incredulous, and it took place in the dressing room at Ann Taylor).

So considering I put some fake tanning lotion on my poor pale legs, will get a pedicure, will be wearing a knee length skirt as part of my suit, and I'm interviewing at a public library--it's okay to go without stockings, right?

Still not believing it,

Kerry

Beat Boredom At The Marlboro Mesa

So aside from golf or cricket, there are other games one can play out here on the Marlboro Mesa. And you don't even have to involve the dogs. Dusie's favorite is Mormon Punchbuggy.

How you play: Drive around on your normal daily errands. When you spot a pair of Mormon missionaries yell "Mormons!" and lightly punch the person next to you. You can always spot the Mormon missionaries--a pair of young men clothed in dark pants, a white shirt and a dark tie, often riding bikes with matching black bike helmets.

They often eat at the Sonic on Country Club, which is where I saw them today.

Mesa was actually founded by Mormons and is LDS central in the Phoenix area. Dusie is appreciative of their presence. "You can always tell who they are--the kids are so well-behaved. In a restaurant, the crayons come out, if there's any fussing a parent takes the kid outside...it's so refreshing. If I were going to have kids I'd have to go Mormon just to get my hands on the parenting classes."

Down Where The Drunkards Roll

I love my family, but my word. I average about 1 drink a month, with all sorts of rules. No drinking in the middle of the day. No drinking away bad feelings. No drinking alone. No drinking in bars alone (yes, I saw The Accused at an early age). Stay away from drunk people. I'm wired for problems, so this is how I protect myself. I also don't like beer or most wine, and only care for mixed drinks and cider. So keeping my tastes expensive and hard to fulfill is another good way to keep myself sober.

Oh, except that I have the same emotional difficulties drinking usually covers up but I use other behaviors that don't necessarily raise a red flag--the eating, the impulsive buying, burying my head in reading, isolation, obsessions, paralysis.

It's shitty being high-functioning. I kind of wish I could just develop a drinking problem because people notice that and it has a set path of treatment. But no, I don't like the simple, do I? I like the long cut.

Oh, well.

First it was the $8 a bottle Whole Foods sangria my mom and I discovered. In the 3 weeks I was in NJ, we polished off 3 bottles together. It's really good--I have fond memories of sangria from my teen years when my parents had a 70's revival and started making sangria and would let us have some. Sangria=wine and fruit salad. How can you resist?

Now Dusie has taken up drinking again--she gave it up 6 years ago when she quit smoking, but the current c&w songness of our lives has taken a bit of a toll. That and the pool being green (it's now blue, and did not crack on my watch). The official drink of The Marlboro Mesa is Planter's Punch.

Dusie Makes Some Planter's Punch

Take a tumbler and put 3-4 ice cubes in it. Pour in a 1-2 fingers of Bacardi Coconut Rum. Top with orange juice. Float grenadine on top, and watch it sink and look all pretty like a sunset.

Voila! Perfect every time. She drinks these because she says it brings back fond memories of the epic gambling trip she and The Don took to Puerto Rico when she was 18, when he used her powers as a craps virgin for profit, and let her have a pre-dinner drink. She was such a lightweight she was stumbling on the sidewalk. Honestly, I think that it's sort of sweet. I'm a little envious.

If I had any reservations about Arizona being the promised land, they were allayed when I learned of the existence of the BevMo!. The BevMo! (the exclamation point is part of the name) is a liquor superstore, but better than any Spirits or Buy-Rite I've ever been in. First off, it's really big and bright and clean. I was awed by the selection, especially the rotating stand of 50 types of liquor, all in little airplane bottles and priced from $2-5. They had Pimm's! And Babycham! Who can resist "The Happiest Drink In The World?" And the artwork!



That's not all--they have a shopper's card. For every $250 you spend, you get 5% off your next purchase. Pitiful, I know, but a stroke of brilliance in my opinion.

I predict a fall, but it will be a fun tumble.

In Which I Answer Some Questions

Is it really hot, Kerry?

It's hot, I'll give you that. But it is like they say--the lack of humidity makes a difference. The sun's glare is bad, but heatwise it's like being enveloped in an electric heating pad or when you curl yourself under a down comforter during the cold of winter and just stay.

In central NJ as a teen it was hard for me to breathe for the entire month of August. Cleveland isn't as humid, but still there were times the air just clung to you. Here, you move slowly but you can move.

It's in the 80s until about 8 am, and it's really nice. The sun is weaker, the air temp is pleasant. And then it starts to climb but it's all good until it hits 100 degrees about noon. The early afternoon is brutal, but it's warmer but pleasant about 5:30 til the sunset at 7:30 pm. That's the key--if it were light out until 10 pm like in Ohio, you couldn't live here at all.

Did the lack of humidity make your hair straight?

No, I still have the Veronica Lake curls! But my hair is too long. I need to find a Supercuts and then experiment with at-home hair dyeing.

Did you buy a bathing suit yet?

No, I will cop to having Fat Girl's Modesty Dilemma on that issue. The pool is tempting. SuperC sent me a bunch of links to Land's End and I know where the Sears and Target are, but I just can't get myself into the space to either figure out what might be vaguely flattering or something I'd feel comfortable wearing and go buy it. Especially since what I'd feel most comfortable wearing is something like this:



Maybe the FLDS ladies would consider making me a swimsuit? Perhaps if I refer to it as a "bathing dress."

Are you wearing shorts?

Not at the moment, no. At the moment I am wearing the awesome linen skirt I bought at Target last year. Because skirts are 100% cooler than shorts, always.

But I do have 2 pairs of shorts, and I do wear them. Thanks, Mom!

Lost any weight yet?

Yeah, don't think so. I have been doing the morning workouts with Dusie and Jesse X though (more on that later).

What's up at your house?

My relator advised getting the cleaning ladies in. You know that after I broke my arm, all my mother's training fell away and I became a really huge slob, just like my dad in her opinion. Whatever. it turns out Dusie is neat but not a cleaner herself, so we manage fine. People have come to see the house though, which is good.

Oh, and the performance artists got busted on the fires! If you want the link to his incoherent rant about it, email me or mention it in the comments. It's hilarious, but I don't want the trackback trail to him. All I need is him getting on my case. Oh, and he flagrantly lies too. I have pictures to refute.

Why no pictures of AZ?

USPS stole my most valuable box. Among other things, it contains the cable that connects the digital camera to the computer. Supposedly it has arrived in Mesa. We shall see. I shall train my dog army to attack and avenge the loss of my crap otherwise.

When/if that shows up, I will post pictures of adorable cacti, dogs, misters, Mexican restaurants, 50's motels, the library, and whatever else captures my interest.

How's Cain doing?

You know, for a woman who doesn't hold with indoor pets, my mom seems awfully affectionate and fond of him. His nerves are a little jangled from the work she's having done on the house, but he runs and greets her every evening when she comes home and lets her brush him and gets in her face. He's lost weight, and is really playful.

She has informed me that yes, he would like a brother when I am settled.

How much water do you have to drink?

I try for 75 ounces a day, not including Happy Hour Cherry Limeades and other beverages. Aces told me I should aim for 100-125 ounces. I drink the tap water too, which boggles Dusie and Jesse X, but it doesn't taste bad.

What's the biggest difference/weirdest thing so far?

The tattoos. Seriously, it's like everyone out here gets a gift certificate entitling them to one free at the age of 18 or when they move here and register to vote. Some of them are really elaborate and beg to be admired as art, but I have already been admonished by Dusie to practice modesty of the eyes and stop staring. Granted, that time I was feeling friendly towards small children, but it was bad manners.

At least I told the girl at Pizzeria Bianco that she was gorgeous.

Any other questions? Ask in the comments!

Cranky, Cranky, Cranky

How cranky am I? I am so cranky I want a cigarette and I don't smoke. I am so cranky I could commit bodily violence. So cranky three little vanilla scones and a coffee from Starbucks have not helped (although thanks again MFA Jane for the giftcard). I am so cranky I am swearing. There is foul language below--stop reading right now if you want to keep your illusion that I am a nice girl and in any way a lady. Please.


*****
Dear USPS,

Look here, you stump-sucking motherfuckers--what the fuck happened to my boxes? On June 24th I sent myself 3 boxes. Parcel Post with tracking. 2 have arrived after 10 days. Not happy, but at least I have my stationery, my contact lenses, my important papers, pictures of my dad, and my briefcase. And Clocky, thank heavens. Where's the other box? Did you steal my shoes, you catatonic morons playing at customer service? Because the tracking slip says it never left the post office. Now I have to try and straighten it out on my end. For the love of god I know my mother thinks you're convenient but there's NOTHING CONVENIENT ABOUT NOT GETTING YOUR STUFF.

*****
What the fuck is up with people putting on their business phone messages that they will return your call "at my earliest convenience?" How incredibly snotty. Look, I'm calling on business--call me back when you can attend to my call and have time to address my questions properly, not when it's convenient for you. Because you fucking owe me a call back in a timely manner and whatever help or attention you can give.

Sisterly Bonding. And Pizza.

Last week Aces asked me over for dinner and a sleepover, an invitation I gladly accepted. She said she wanted to go to Pizzeria Bianco, but she warned me--it's the famous gourmet Phoenix pizza place, the one that's gotten national attention, and is famous for the 3 hour wait in the hot sun. I was undaunted. She picked me up after work and we dropped our stuff off at her cute single girl apartment downtown and walked over.

Aces said she wanted my opinion, that she's been a couple of times alone and sat at the bar. In her opinion, it was really good pizza, but she was uncertain how much a factor the heat, the pre-dinner drinks, and sheer hunger after the wait had affected her opinion. Oh, and the bar server made her feel bad for wanting 2 pizzas, which she sure as hell could put away, even if she is thin.

Pizzeria Bianco has a great location and a remarkably efficient setup for dealing with the crowd. They are right next to the AZ Science Center, the Arizona Doll & Toy Museum and across from an English tearoom and an English pub. It's also downtown, so there's other cool stuff close by. Bar Bianco is next door. You check in at the restaurant and they estimate your wait (ours was 3 hours, and we got seated right on schedule) and if you go to the bar they will track you down when it's your turn. The bar is in a beautiful converted bungalow from the turn of the century and serves beer and wine and some appetizers. There's plenty of seats on the porch and around the bar and restaurant. Inside has a/c (and a magazine rack--they need to refresh it a bit though) and comfy if low seats. The music is really good too.

It's set up to be an experience, a long period of socialization topped with food. And that's what we were looking for. Aces and I are experimenting a bit with building a relationship--we haven't lived together in 15 years, since I was 18 and she 13, so we don't know each other. I don't know if it comes across how much I admire and adore my sisters in my writing, how I regard them as having the best bits of our parents, and how I envy their beauty and brains and good sense. Wanting to be closer to them is why I came out here.

And socialize we did, talking about family stuff, and opinions, her work, and other topics. Two beers (for her) and two Mexican Cokes (for me) later, we got word that we had seats. Hurray!

So what did we get? We went for the Margherita, the Rosa, and the Biancoverde. We were both tempted by the Wiseguy, but our waiter said he could put three pizzas on the table and give us one for takeout and we decided to hold that over for another visit on the grounds it might not reheat well.

Yeah, I don't get the pizza rationing thing either. Definitely points off for that. He was a sweetheart of a server otherwise.

The verdict? It is really good pizza. Superior crust of the thin and crispy variety. The mozzarella is handmade. However, we're from NJ, land of pizza. I love it, but I'm not necessarily wowed by fancy pizza. The Margherita was really good, very simple but a higher quality version of the neighborhood pie. I don't care for white pizza, but I could taste how the ricotta smoothed out the bite of the arugula.

However, the Rosa was the best damn thing we had eaten this year. Just tasty and creative--chewy crust, the creamy cheese with a slight sourness, the onions soft and sweet but also with a slight tang (almost like they'd been pickled), and the meaty nuttiness of the pistachios topping the whole thing off with a hearty crunch and tying it together. It knocked me out. I could have eaten a whole one myself, just to keep puzzling on how the elements worked together.

We finished the whole pie and most of the other two.

My mom has said that she'd like to go to Pizzeria Bianco, and with 6 people in a party you can make a reservation, so we are planning to do this for my birthday in December when she is here.

It was a great night. Aces is a wonderful hostess, and we're planning to do more stuff together.

You! Into The Pool!

So a month or so ago, Harley got bored one day while his people were at work and threw 25 pounds of Miracle-Gro potting soil into the pool. Bad dog!

The pool has been green ever since. Jesse X did his best to fix it, but finally had to call in professionals. They've been trying everything they can. In the meantime, Dusie has been getting more and more cranky and frustrated as she's under a lot of stress. (Not coming from me--I've only been here a week, and I clean up and vacuum and even did the dog poop patrol.) Finally the word came down today--the only way to fix it is by draining the water out and refilling it. The problem is you really should not drain a pool between April and October because cracks will form in the plaster and break the pool.

So when they got home tonight and consulted with the pool guy and Jesse filled me in on the plan. The pool drains tonight, and then tomorrow they refill. There will be hoses that have to be moved around and the sides have to be sprayed every 10 minutes.

"Well, that's better than what I thought it would be," I said. "I imagined you'd maybe get me a beer hat and a few gallons of Kool-Aid, and set me out there in the middle with a scrub brush to keep it wet and clean it out."

Then he laughed at me.

Have I mentioned I don't have a bathing suit?

Wish me luck!

Sunscreen Reviews

It was maybe a little dumb for a woman who is so pale she reflects strong colors in her environment to move to a place nicknamed "Sun Valley," but hey--the British had a long reign of colonization in places like India and Australia, and they managed to get around the too much sun and heatstroke issues. Of course, life expectancy was so short you croaked before the melanoma spread.

So sunscreen is now my BFF. I am actually in a very high risk group for skin cancer. Dark hair aside, my eyes are light and I have more than 25 moles. And I suck up the sun and wind up burned and sick before I realize it. Living for 15 years in a place that only gets 66 full days of sun has saved my skin. That and never leaving the house.

It's summer, so the fashion magazines are all "Sunblock--Yur doin it wrong!" in that cheery way they have of enforcing women's ugliness and incompetence at the beauty business. To whit, Americans don't use enough, they apply it wrong and not often enough, miss spots, and well, with global warming we're completely sunk. Whatever. I wonder why I can't just buy a simple parasol, not some Brattenburg reproduction lace extravaganza aimed at Civil War reinactors, but just a lightweight canvas umbrella to carry around. Maybe with multicolored stripes or polka dots? Or just plain tan? Dorkness--I have it.

If we can't get an effective behavioral change campaign going like Australia's "Slip, Slap, Slop!", at least stop selling sunblock in those ridiculously overpriced little tubes. There should be a sunblock dispenser available that you can put in your bathroom or by the front door, and use the psychological trigger of abundance to encourage slathering.

In the meantime, here's some thoughts on what I've been using lately:

Liz Earle Naturally Active Suncare, Sun Shade SPF 25 Face Protector: The label says "naturally active ingredients green tea, pomegranate, and natural Vitamin E. Non-chemical sunscreens. Fragrance Free...Suitable for all the family."

Genevieve got this at work when she was allowed unfettered access to the beauty closet as a reward for good web design and passed it along to me. I really don't care about chemicals and natural ingredients, and would never have picked it up. It's actually pretty good--the major drawback is that it has a noticeably long absorption time, so you're standing there thinking "All right, am I covered? Or is that too much?" while it works its way into the skin. Its scent is slight and not unpleasant, and the residue feel is minimal. I haven't gotten burned with it on my face, and once put it on my legs in a pinch and it was fine. There's no expiration date on the packaging--I'm not sure since there's no chemicals it doesn't expire or what. It seems to be working.

Neutrogena Ultra Sheer Dry-Touch Sunblock SPF 45 This stuff is the big guns, blocking broad spectrum UVA/UVB rays and endorsed by the American Cancer Society.

The scent is moderate and that pleasantly classic suntan lotion smell. Absorption is quick, but it does leave a weird feel on the skin--not the film that drives me nuts, but a powdery residue. I'd want to take a shower before bed. Blocking power is great.

Additionally, Genevieve and I have previously marveled over the phenomena of cheap nail places in Phoenix and NYC, and I am pleased to announce I've figured out another part of the why. Within 48 hours of landing in Phoenix, my feet were disgusting--totally covered with dried out skin at the heel. I had to buy a pedicure tool to take care of it as I was grossing myself out. I am beginning to appreciate the necessity of the pedicure here. No cutting beauty corners with closed toe shoes when you can wear sandals 9 months of the year!

I Feel Pretty Today

Life With Dogs

Hanging out with dogs all day is like working with really annoying people.

Imagine yourself tapping along on the computer and suddenly your coworkers Harley and Billie get in your face.

H: So it's lunch time.
B: Do you have some lunch? Want to share some lunch?
H. Yeah, I don't have any lunch. Can you share some lunch? That looks really, really, good.

They look at you while you eat and you feel a little the heel.

Harley sees a bird outside. He runs outside and for the next 5 minutes all you can hear is: "OMG, it's a bird! What do you want bird? What are you doing in my tree, bird? How's it going, bird?" I'm Harley!"

In the far distance you hear a police siren. For the next ten minutes, this conversation repeats:

H: Oh no, it's the cops!
B: Wow, it's the cops!
H: What do they want?
B: I don't know. Quick, let's run outside and see!
H: Maybe next door knows. Hey what's going on?
B: Ask them, someone has to know something!

Only it's all, "Ruff, ruff, ruff! Barooo, baroo, baroo!" Labrador-Great Danes mixes have quite the lungs on them.

Sometimes you'll just be minding your own business and there will be all these gross personal hygiene noises, the licking, the biting, that you have to ignore. Just like at the office.

Dog people are different. I can't see how they get work done. Give me a cat any day.

What I Managed To Do Today

A short but complete list, at 4pm:

bootcamp
drank 25 oz of water
discovered Harley had been Destructo Dog on a piece of foam exercise equipment
kennel The Hound
drive Jesse X's Cadillac to a far distant fancy mall and buy a new power cord for the laptop at the Apple Store
mail Dusie's packages
buy a map
get a new phone number and pay cell phone bill
get a key made
put gas into Jesse X's Cadillac
released The Hound
drank a Sonic cherry limeade
eat lunch
clean up after self
empty dishwasher
check email
drank 25 oz water

Greetings From The Marlboro Mesa

Dusie greeted me in the airport by poking me really hard in the arm and saying "So, have you seen any new Phonecians?"

She followed it up with this exchange:

D: You have wrinkles!

Me: Yes, I know. (subtext: grrrrr.)

D: Those are new. They're not too bad though. Not like mine. Are they from stress?

Me: Dehydration.

The irony is that hers are much worse than mine--she is a fair and freckly redhead with a history of terrible sun damage as a child, smoked for 8 years, the whole AZ living thing--and I am 3 1/2 years older. The wrinkles are a recent development, and they are more like smile lines. I blame the move to full time contacts wear (glasses hide a multitude of beauty imperfections) and squinting into the sun while driving.

Kerry Reads The Paper!

A roundup of snark...

You know, if she hasn't slapped the guy upside the head with a frying pan after 5 years, I suppose they'll be happy together: Vows: Sarah Lucas and Jonathon Kass.

I drink maybe once a month, I've never been drunk, never smoked, and the one time I was offered drugs I turned them down. Why, oh why must you scaremonger my love, the sweet caffeine? Hasn't killed me yet.

I'm not a B&B person, but I can't think of a place I'd rather not stay than this B&B. Sometimes NY Times publicity is not so good.

Is she blunt? Yes. Is she shooting herself in the foot? Probably. Is it refreshing to see someone stand up for her beliefs? Yes. Face it, the Emmys voters are lazy and she'd probably win again, and her role was crap this season so Katherine Heigl not putting herself forward for the award is a motion with a strange integrity.

The new Social Q's column is interesting--I was a little confused about why you'd want a Jewish boyfriend as opposed to a boyfriend who either shared your religion/culture or was just a hot mystery off the street, but my mom elucidated the stereotypes about Jewish men and put me straight. Somewhat. I'm of mixed thoughts on the second question though--the answer that the writer seemed a little more skeeved than helpful was right on, but at the same time having worked in business, there is a huge emphasis on appearances, having the right look and fitting in. So probably the assistant is sabotaging herself, but honestly with the job and the MBA, she might not care.

Weird New Hobbies

In Ohio, the major weird sport to follow was vintage base ball. Pro: vintage clothes. Con: it's still baseball, and I'm not a fan.

But guess what? In Arizona this fall, I'm going to become a cricket groupie. Not that I know that much about cricket, but I think it's a sport on the rise. After all, even the professional leagues are making changes to suit modern audiences. it's even popping up in novels.

Not Risky Business

So I'm at my mom's house in NJ. She's gone off to Vermont and charged me with keeping an eye on kith and kin and feeding Mama, my dad's feral cat.

So, have I held a wild party, taken any drugs, hit the liquor cabinet, invited boys over, jacked up the a/c?

No.

I made potato salad. Well, she did tell me not to do that.

Sadly, this is pretty much what I would have done at 17 too.

Twit Or Twitter?

So I'm thinking about getting a Twitter account. Yes, no, any thoughts? Please put it in the comments.

It occurred to me that this might be the most excellent way to dodge the daily calls from my mom that ascertain my continued existence but are so dead dull. "What did you do today?" "Nothing much. You?" "Nothing." We are the most boring people alive. She doesn't read the blog--none of my first degree relatives do.

It would also be an excellent place for those small rants and thoughts that aren't enough for a post here.

Twitter is one of those cool Web 2.0 things that works best when you have, you know, friends, particularly friends who are fairly wired. Otherwise, it seems a little pathetic, like shouting out to the void. And I say that knowing I don't have the largest social circle.

If I go through with it, I might have to upgrade the phone plan for texting.

Visiting The Don

The above is Dusie dusting off a poppyseed bagel at my father's grave. Yes, when we go to the cemetery we bring food, something small like a bagel or a cookie, or a little coffee to pour on the grave. We seem to be a little unusual. All the other graves have trees or plants or flags or stuffed animals. We talked about what we would bring to Daddy to dress up the grave and came up with a list of things he might like: a mini roulette wheel, a craps table, a pair of dice (loaded), a copy of the Racing Form. Really, why should we try to be what we're not?

I'm hitting the races at Monmouth Park next weekend for Father's Day. My dad tried to get me interested in horse racing and betting when I was young, but even the smartest 8 year old is to young to understand multi-variable system analysis and develop an analytical process to judge horseflesh. But he would let me pick horses and place bets for me, although my lack of success lead to my not getting the gambling bug. Another bullet dodged.

I miss him a lot these days. I miss how I could get angry and yell at him. He also had a temper, and could be flat out nuts sometimes, but he did always love us.

NPR Almost Makes Me Cry

I'm not a crier. I'd like to be--awful stuff keeps happening and it would be awesome to just burst into tears, but all I can do is a big gulp and a lip wobble. The last time I was incredibly close to crying was at my dad's funeral, but I was so angry at my grandmother for her attempt to throw herself into the coffin, if I had started to cry someone would have touched me, and I might have punched them. Then I would have gotten excommunicated and The Don would not be proud.

NPR had 2 pieces lately that almost made me cry. Wibble, wibble. "In 'A Dog's Life,' One Student Finds Strength" we've got a moving story on literacy, children and the power of reading to help you to sort out your life. Good for you, Mark Federman.

Normally I hate "Fresh Air," but Terry Gross had a wonderful conversation with Marine Lt. Col. Steve Beck and Jim Sheeler, a journalist who spent years chronicling Beck's work ministering to the families of fallen Marines and guiding them through the notification and details of the deaths of their family members.

And maybe not cry so much as want to slap people: Cleveland, the city whose "housing boom" wasn't built on a good economy or housing scarcity, but instead powered by the criminal and stupid. Seriously, if this is your potential workforce, do you want to do business here?

Waitress

Am I the only person to watch the movie Waitress and think that Jenna was quite the manipulative monster herself? I found her unlikable and not very sympathetic. She lies to herself, her husband and her lover. She's clearly smarter than Earl, but can't figure out either how to play him to get what she wants or get out of the marriage. And why could she not give her friends her stash to keep it away from him?

And she basically got saved by her fairy godfather. WTF? Where's the feminist message? The message I got was that it's okay not to take any action to get yourself out of a mess. Oh, and a baby will finally spur you to save yourself. Helluva burden for a kid.

Some of this might be because there's 2 kinds of people: cake people and pie people. I am a cake person. Cake people are persnickety constructionists who like everything to hang together. Think of it--cake is a melding of solid structure laced with fluff. In sublime cake, it's all different textures and tastes that have to play well together and balance themselves. Pie people are all random crap inside a crust and making it look nice when it can be terrible taste inside. "But it's a beautiful pie!" Screw that.

Moonlight Downs-Adrian Hyland

You thought you'd never see another book review from me, didn't you? It was worth the wait, I promise. Published in the US by Soho Crime, Moonlight Downs won the Ned Kelly Award for Best First Novel in its native Australia and is a fascinating, engrossing read.

Emily Tempest comes back to her home in Central Australia after 14 years away at school and roaming the world. "Home" is the Moonlight Downs community, a tribe of Warlpuju lead by Lincoln Flinders. First night back, Lincoln is murdered. Blakie Japanangka, sorcerer and enemy of Lincoln is discovered with the body and supposed to be the killer, but Emily isn't convinced and starts a discreet dig for answers.

This story really worked for me. First off I'm a sucker for Australia, and good writing in the "show, don't tell" style. This is a magnificently detailed book, and Emily an appealing and observant narrator. The small bits abound, like Emily's observation that a friend's little sister had "turned into an outback Naomi Campbell." Hyland's experience with native culture and the area he writes about comes through Emily's authentic narration, and her own difficulties figuring out where she as a young, mixed race, well-educated, bright and curious Australian fits. The difficulty of life in the desert, the roughness of the people drawn to the life and the harshness inherent are all well-depicted and three dimensional, from Emily's friend Hazel to the suspect Earl Marsh.

One of the rarer things to find these days is a fair mystery--one where clues are seeded but you as the reader can figure it out. This is a fair mystery--the solution and climax depend on Emily's knowledge and interpretation, but there's nothing that happens out of the blue to jury-rig an acceptable ending.

Great story. More, please!

From The Department Of Best Lines And Descriptions

I'll post a review of it later, but Moonlight Downs runs away with this category. My god, the descriptions:

"You wouldn't consider staying with your old man for a while?"

"I just come from the Jenny, Tom. I love old Jack, but do I want to spend my time sitting on top of a gold mine in the middle of a salt pan with him and his trained gorillas? I don't think so."

"You could come with us, back into Bluebush..."

"Bluebush!"

He appeared to be offended by the look of alarm that shot across my face. I was, I supposed, insulting the place he'd chosen to make his home. But Bluebush! What a dump! The sort of town where it's easier to buy a silencer than a decent coffee. When we visited town, I'd never leave my father's side: as a little black kid, you could feel the antagonism radiating out from the whitefellers when you passed them in the street.

And what a mob they were themselves. A bigger collection of dickheads and drop-kicks you'd have to travel a long way to find: boozers, bruisers and substance-abusers, rockjaw Germans and lockjaw Yorkshiremen, grease monkeys and gamblers, meatworkers, meat-heads, missionaries, maniacs, men on the run, men on the dole, men on the Witness Protection Program, Peddlers, pushers, whores and bores, desperadoes of every denomination. You name it, they were there, drawn to the town like flies on a carcass.

"Tom, the only way you could get me to go and live in Bluebush would be if you were to knock me out, handcuff me and throw me into the back of your paddy wagon." (46)

Just Click Delete

From today's potential bachelors...

"I want my wife to do women things like tanning,pedicures,getting her nails done, having her makeup and hair look nice whenever possible,work out 2 or more times a week,enjoy the little things in life like I do."

I have to say, as a woman I am not aware that there were "women things" as opposed to "things people do." Where's my instruction list for womanhood? Years of reading Seventeen, Glamour, and I still have no clue about these "women things."

This match wasn't happening for reasons besides the fact I have the nickname of "No-Groom Girl."

Scenes From New Jersey

We were meeting Dusie's in-laws for dinner, and she made me change and put on a skirt.

D: Are you ready to go?

Me: Out of respect for your in-laws, I'm shaving my legs.

D: That's really not necessary.

Later... D: On a serious note, I like your purse. And it goes so well with the paint and cat scratches on your arms!

If You're Looking For Something To Do...

It looks like Mahall's 20 Lanes is starting up the Rock-A Bowl again. There's one tonight--no idea on the band, but the price is still $10 for the show, bowling and pool from 10pm-2am. This is an irregularly scheduled and promoted event that's been going on for about 6 years. I've been a couple of times and loved it, but you really have to go with other people for the most fun.

Mahall's was last renovated around 1958, so it's the perfect atmosphere for rockabilly.

In Which I Turn The Other Cheek, But Still Harbor Rage And Hate In My Heart

Dusie talked me out of calling the cops on the neighbors last night. She told me I was having an attack of The Don, channeling the rage into a fight I don't have time to win. That on Thursday I'll be ensconced at the Marlboro Mesa, new life, blah blah, and to let it go. Turn it all into writing material. She's right, I guess.

Fuckers did burn my chairs though.

PS--I just got a call back from Fire Prevention. The rules for noncooking fires are they have to be 25 feet from any structure, no burning wood scraps, brush, etc. They won't get a ticket. The fire inspector will just come out, catch them in the act and make them dowse the fire.

Fuel For The Fire (In More Ways Than One)

So I've been putting out things on the curb so that people can pick them up. It's an accepted practice in my suburb that if you have usable stuff you can put it out on the treelawn before trash day and 9 times out of 10, it gets a new home.

I had a pair of green oak kitchen chairs I bought at the Medina Flea Market a long time ago for $20, very sturdy and with lots of life left in them. No place for them in the house, so I put them on the curb.

I went over today to check out the neighbor's fire circle and what do I see? My green chairs. Along with a lot of brush and spare wood which I guess is their fuel for their bonfires.

So when I call the cops on them for the illegal burning, it is going to be ever sweeter. Nice weather this week! Hope I catch them!

They've taken my treelawn stuff before, notably an ottoman I recovered and a bookcase, and that's fine, but this just frosts me.

I'm hard on the performance artists for valid reasons. They are so self-centered there could be a van parked in my drive marked "We Steals Yur Copper Pipes" and they would just turn a blind eye. They are annoying. They are pompous and don't grasp the rules of suburban living apply to their specialness. They don't give out Halloween candy. They talk too loud and too late into the night, and thank god they've moved the parties to the woods.

In Which I Hope To Discover My Inner Meth Head Handy Girl

So, about the house...

When the real estate lady came in and asked me if I was still living there, I figured we were off to a good start because it was a big job to get the house looking like no one lived there. Feedback was good-my kitchen is big (11x11) for Lakewood, my cabinets are good, I do get lots of nice light!, nice attic, green room got a "wow!", bathroom is big and with the new tile job not unattractive, and overall with some more paint we are okay. My roof is 2007 (complete tearoff of 3 layers of asphalt and the original cedar shakes), and my furnace is from Fall 2003. Did I ever mention that the furnace in place when I bought the house was from the mid-1940's (the same age as my mom) and the size of a VW Bug?

She suggested painting my accent wall in the kitchen SW Baguette instead of BM Honolulu Blue, and she was right. It picks up the brown off my crappy floor and does make the place look more sophisticated. I would never have picked it because it's totally a baby shit brown.

What I've had done/done to get it fixed up by the time I leave, along with huge divestment of stuff: tore off wallpaper and repainted the Tuscan Nitemare room, repainted hallway & downstairs, parts of the kitchen, new cabinet knobs, got the walls leading to the basement and outside the kitchen repaired and painted, fixed the mystery plumbing leak which lead to new tile including the building of a wall and moving the light switch that had previously been located in the shower(!), got the scary bathroom ceiling textured (totally a place in hell for me for that, but it was the only quick and easy fix), painted the woodwork in my bedroom back to white, painted the porch & steps, and planted flowers.

It's all I can do.

I also called the B-Dry System people and it turns out in 1981-1982 they did the whole basement, which is good because I now have seepage from behind the west wall. Those systems are guarenteed, although I am unsure if I can get it fixed in any sort of fashion because of the paneling down there. But the next owner can take care of that--information is power.

"But Kerry," I can hear you ask, "what price did she put on it? And how long does she think it will take to sell?"

The market has picked up some, but it's still not great. Not a lot of buyers, even if The Romance Heroine almost bought a cat pee house. I found my original listing sheet for this house, and I bought it after it had been on the market for 3 months in 2001. I'm looking at up to a year. I can make it work.

The original price we're setting? It's 11% more than I bought it for in 2001. If I think about it too much, I will cry. But there is room to drop it if in this glutted market if that will just get rid of it.

I'll take pictures before I leave and put them up on Flickr with details. I do like the house more now that it's fixed up--oh, paradoxes. And it's a pleasure to take a shower now. And my inner meth head handy girl will be up all night at work.

Today's Adventures In Dating

Today's potential bachelors featured a fellow who specified that he wanted a smart girl, but not a "Nobel prize or Mensa smart girl."

It was obviously not meant to be.

Kerry Reads The Paper!

Oh come on--you didn't think I could let this article pass without comment?

Truthfully, I'm of mixed thoughts. I hope it works out for the Harris family, although they seem to be class A freaks in a bit of a manic cycle who clearly haven't thought the whole organic homesteading in Vermont thing through. Voluntary simplicity is great and a whole lot easier when you have access to services or a stream of castoff goods or a cash stash. Otherwise, it's just being poor and there's a lot of poverty in rural New England. Planning, people.

And no, no you don't have necessarily have internet access in the woods.

I have had a long term fascination with people who do this sort of thing, since I really can't. It dates to reading Louise Dickinson Rich's We Took To The Woods as a child in a Reader's Digest Condensed Books collection.

I have sympathy for their plight in attempting to give away their belongings (although giving it away to charity instead of holding a huge garage sale is dumb, no matter how you try to dress up "I can't assign a value to things!"). I've given away or sold 80% of what I own and it really took me 18 months because of indecision and emotional attachments. I had a bit of a hoarding problem too. It's very freeing in the end to not have much. What I've learned is that nothing has value once it's out of the store. If you're not picky, creative and willing to make do, you can get so much for free. There is so much in this country to scrounge.

The Phone, And Why You're A Liar

I was a latecomer to the joys of the cellphone, but now I'm a convert. Know why? Because even though I don't answer my phone, I can tell from the missed & received calls features that you didn't call me. Umm humm. I got your number in more ways than one, honey.

Midget, Grandma, or Animal?

Federal Obscenity Charge Drives O'Malley From Office

Library Meme

1. How old were you when you got your first library card?

I think I was 6 1/2--we lived in Middletown, and Aces was about a year old when we moved there, and we're 5 years apart. I remember it though. It was summer. We thought we had to pay, and I had $5 that grandma had given me that had gone through the laundry and my mom had ironed it straight. We went the 10 miles to the big library and I was so excited when all I had to do was write my name and address! I could do that! And then we found out there was a library around the corner from our house.

2. What's the first book you can remember reading from a library?

I don't remember. I do know I was reading Nancy Drew from them in the summer after 1st grade when I broke my finger and couldn't swim.

3. Did you ever participate in a summer reading program or other kids' event at a library growing up?

No kids' events at our library, but we did have summer reading. I never went to the parties or anything, but I did submot my list, which was actually incomplete--I read more than I wanted to bother writing down.

4. Do you remember when card catalogues weren't computerized?

Yes. And I remember when your library card was a typed piece of cardstock with a metal bar and the machine went chomp! when it checked books out to you.

5. When was the last time you went to the library?

Today actually--I'm painting, so I needed some audiobooks to make it go easier.

6. How many books do you usually check out of the library at one time?

Anywhere from 2-15.

7. Name one great author you've discovered at your library.

Frank Portman.

8. What was the librarian at your elementary school like?

I did not go to a school with a librarian--we had a room with books and an encyclopedia, and that was it.

9. How many times a year do you go to the library?

Bwwaahhh! On business or pleasure?

10. If you could change one thing about your library, what would it be and why?

LPL would put up some freaking signs. Now that both sides are open, I'm warming up to the design.

Young Workers Flee Midwestern States

Well, why shouldn't we?

Oh, Cleveland!

Is it just me, or does all the must see travel advice in response to not Martha's question about what to see/do in Cleveland just seem...horribly boring?

Up For Grabs--Tiki Cake Stand

Those of you who have seen what is affectionately called the tiki cake stand know what an awesome piece of weirdness it is. See the picture above--it's a total conversation piece. It didn't sell on eBay--anyone want it? Otherwise it goes to Goodwill.

I Am Fed Up

It is May 4th. It is 66 degrees in my bedroom. It is 62 degrees downstairs.

I should not be faced with turning on the heat or the space heater in order to be warm enough to sleep tonight.

Random Photos

In order: Harley, 47 cat toys, and Specs.

Is It Too Much To Hope They Burn Down My House?

Good god, I am going to miss the neighbors and their hijinks and the chance to bitch once I move. The Marlboro Mesa does not seem to have as much wacky going on within its borders. And I do worry that I won't have as much crazy surrounding me and I'll get bored.

Their new kick is apparently setting fires in the backyard. No really, they were hanging out in the backyard around a little campfire the other night. No rocks to create a border for the fire, and now they have a little burned circle about 3 feet in diameter in their backyard. How incredibly attractive. I saw it smoldering when I got up in the morning. At first I wondered if it was perhaps a compost pile. Blah, blah, camping, fire safety and all that, but this is a suburb. A densely packed suburb. I don't care how experienced you are, it strikes me as a bit dangerous. Anyone else?

Dear performance artists--

If you burn down both our houses, I promise I'll go in with you and we can sell our lots to a developer, if they even exist any more.

Or at least, can you please get so drunk you burn down my garage?

Thanks,

Kerry

I'm So Handsome (Post Courtesy Of Cain)

And I eat diet food now, so I will weigh less than 19 lbs, 3 oz. And my fur will grow back on my tail from where the nasty girl cat bit me.

Joycie will love me when I am in NJ with her. Even if she won't let me sleep with her. I have to remember not to use my nails. And don't eat her fleurs.

Head's Up: The Billy Bragg Edition

This weekend, NPR's Studio 360 is rerunning their conversation with Billy Bragg as he has a new album out this week. This interview, particularly his performance of "To Have And Have Not" was an inspiration for me. I'd been aware of him before through the Mermaid Avenue album and his alt hits of "Sexuality" and "You Woke Up My Neighborhood" but damn, he is impressive. He is one of my favorite songwriters, a perfect pairing of honesty and emotion and grounding in reality.

Doors Are Shut, Windows Are Open

I didn't get the job I interviewed for 2 weeks ago. I think my lack of programming experience was a big factor. But, onto new opportunities, right?

My last day in town is next Friday. No seriously, I'm leaving. You want proof? I bought a 1 way plane ticket leaving from Newark a week from Tuesday. I gave away my tv. I told Carol & John's Comic Shop to cancel my subscriptions after the 7th (I only have 2, but still). Ebay auctions, people! Numerous trips to Half Price Books. Plumbers are finishing their job, I'm trying to get a hold of the guy who reglazes tubs, and my new best friends at Handyman Connection will be out next week. Specs goes to Petsmart by Friday too. I'm living on canned soup, baby carrots, and pb&j sandwiches.

I was in the grocery store right after I came back from AZ when it hit me that I'm not happy (big news, huh?) and I don't have to live like this. I swear, it was exactly like how I came to the decision to split with the ex.

My propensity for rushed and rash movement and decisions after long periods of emotional paralysis should probably be examined as part of my suspected mental instability, but I don't care.

I will send out an email--I'm hosting a last night in town at Bela Dubby 7-9pm. Husband-types and children welcome, and I'm buying the coffee and drinks and giving out hugs.

The Trader Vic's Story

I've either told or mentioned this story to everyone it seems. Thank you for your patience

Back in December, Aces and I were running errands in Scottsdale when we drove past the Trader Vic's. (Warning: there's sound on that link) My mom was very excited to hear about this--she had been at a Trader Vic's back in San Franscisco in the 1960's on a trip that she took (possibly with Aunt Mary Jane?). Since Jesse X's birthday is the day after Christmas, that's where they went to celebrate. I went back to Ohio that day, so I missed out. But the minute Dusie heard that I'd be in AZ her birthday weekend, she said, "I'm calling Trader Vic's for a reservation."

So Sunday night we trundled off to Scottsdale, and as we pulled into the parking lot we notice the sign had been changed to read "Trader Joe's." Puzzling. The valet informed us that the restaurant was closed for a private event. Dusie informed him that we had a confirmed reservation. The valet went to inform the manager.

Now, those of you who think I am assertive have never met my sister. She is a tiny, redheaded, force of nature. Dusie and The Don often butted heads because they were so much alike, and over the years the mental resemblance has gotten stronger. It's totally unfair. I get his temper and distain for the rules of polite society and intellect, and she gets persuasion and charm and the ability to bend you to her will. She got out of the car to go wait by the door for the manager to come out. Aces and I turned around in the backseat to watch her with the big eyes, secretly afraid this might turn into a shouting match (things with The Don sometimes went that way). After a minute, Jesse X got out of the car and went to stand next to her. Jesse X is awesome. During Dusie's negotiation, he said nothing. He simply loaned the gravitas of his penis and his natural male authority to the proceeding while letting her handle the manager.

So there's a little friendly conversation and some apologies and a promise to investigate, and the opening offer is a free dinner at the restaurant at the Tally-Ho. We go over to check it out, and when it's 97 degrees out and you were expecting floofy Polynesian drinks and pan-Asian food, upscale macaroni & cheese and liver & onions is not going to do. So we took the 2nd offer--dinner Tuesday night at 50% off.

She is awesome, is she not?

Did I mention my mom was paying for this meal? Thank you, Mom! She's awesome too!

Do you want to hear about the food too? I'll tell about the food if people are interested.

This Whole Dating Thing

Once I move I think I will be bailing on the online dating thing for a while and going back to hanging around and trying to chat men up.

It's been interesting. I think I was right in that there's not a lot of good men in Cleveland and Phoenix might be a better place to be single. I also have figured out that I have automatic turnoffs--lack of enthusiasm, lack of reading, anyone who uses the word "princess," psuedo-philosophical bullshit, whining, and guys who watch "The Bachelor."

However, I did see the profile of someone who was good looking, articulate, an engineering student (love me some engineers) and had a big Coca-Cola habit. So maybe there's hope out there.

A few links...

First Date Tips For Women might be helpful if I ever get to that point.

The Eligible Bachelor Paradox. This article describes the lack of men for women over age 30 in terms of game theory. I wanted to slit my wrists, but at least the author makes the point that game theory only explains the winning of a prize, not the winning of the best prize. So let's all just enjoy ambiguity and uncertainty, and take to drink.

But in case you have a date...looking to brighten your face? Love red lipstick but feel just too noticable wearing it? Check outThe London Times Makeup Masterclass on applying red lipstick. It's amazing to see how the reporters face changes as the makeup artist works on her. I love red lips and can't wait to go out and blow money on lipstick supplies, which I need like a freaking hole in the head. I know that men are commonly thought to like long hair, but do they like red lipstick? The idiot ex always thought it looked whorish. Yes, I know.

Librarianship: The Husband Problem

Cynthia at Library Garden on Library Jobs: Single People Need Not Apply?

I wanted to write about this because I've been thinking a lot about feminist issues and librarianship lately, and I think her plight has a lot of different angles to it that need to be addressed. Some of it is related to being single in a low-paying profession in a high cost of living area. One of the reasons I have never gone back to NJ to live is that $500 couldn't get the local bookstore owner a room to rent in a house with kitchen privileges near where I grew up in the mid-90's, but $365 got me a crappy 1 bedroom apartment here when I graduated in 1997 and made $10 an hour.

Like Cynthia, I think it's unacceptable that our field thinks that the response to people's concerns about being able to afford health insurance is "can't you get that through your husband's job?" I find it disturbing but sadly symptomatic of the profession. Public service shouldn't expect to be underwritten by private enterprise; private enterprise is really unreliable in that endeavor.

But whyis it that librarianship expects that it can attract people who will work for low pay and no benefits, for years at times, and give 110% to the cause of public service and smile? And that this workforce will be underwritten by someone else? I loved my work last year, but it was something that I was able to do due to an inheritance and comfort in the fact that The Don believed in both sabbaticals and career change. I think it's a certain arrogance on the part of the profession, not necessarily a sense of entitlement on behalf of some of the people trying to work within it, that throws up barriers and attitudes that you will pay dues, you will work for free, you will contribute in ways we deem valuable that are costly both monetarily and in terms of energy and time. And I think it's unsustainable if that's the underpinning of how librarianship functions.

I mean, I don't hear anyone floating ideas like digital designers like Genevieve should be giving away their work or MFA Jane should be writing free poems on demand in the town square. That's their intellectual content and they should be able to license it and derive revenue from it. But I do hear a lot of ideas like "librarians should be involved in validating the content on Wikipedia" that make me roll my eyes because until Wikipedia pays me cash, I feel no need to give away my intellectual property and time. My brain and my time are valuable. I deserve to be paid fairly for my efforts.

The Romance Heroine once observed to me that library school is filled with nerds, and I agreed, but since I've been out in the working world I've had to revise that estimation. The library world is filled with Tracy Flicks--people turned on by power with too much energy to spare. And to tie this back to Cynthia's piece, frankly that's another way the profession is biased against the women who fill it, especially single women. I’m single and I tell you, it’s hard not having anyone else to depend on to do a quick load of laundry, call the insurance company, stay home and wait for the plumber. There’s only so much streamlining of your life you can do until you run out of time, and setting up a profession that expects unpaid contributions in the form of blogging, committee activity, conference organizing, etc. creates an environment where only those who either have this home support to handle the nitty gritty details of life or are willing to run around in crusty underwear consumed by librarianship can participate.

I didn’t become a librarian because I’m motivated by money. I’m primarily motivated by praise, a sense of belonging and helpfulness and a cause. But I expect to be fairly compensated for my activities, and creating an unrealistic expectation that librarians should be happy and able to work for less due to a love of the profession and that they might have someone willing to underwrite their participation is ridiculous and bad for us all.

"Law & Order"--How Much Do I Love You?

I was making mental bets on when the case of the guys who wheeled a corpse into the check-cashing place in Hell's Kitchen would show up on "Law & Order" and what was the intro to the case tonight? Two fools find a corpse and try to wheel it into a liquor store for booze. My love of L&O was forged growing up in NJ in the 90's with a dad who had a terrible fondness for the New York Post. Early years involved remembering which headline belonged to the adapted L&O case. Ah, those were the days.

Pictures From The Library

More Scenes From The Trip

Dusie: "Didn't you see Aces and The Adoring Boyfriend last night, the handholding and the kisses? Wasn't it sweet? Don't you want that, Kerry? You should get a boyfriend, Kerry!"

Me: "I had a boyfriend for 10 years! It's not that I don't like having a boyfriend! It's just hard to find one, Married Sister! Sheesh!"

***********

Aces promised to take me to Matt's Big Breakfast next time I'm in town.

************

The morning I left, I went over to Dusie's office to meet her coworkers and got to the farmer's market with her. I had her house key in my possession, but couldn't find it when it came time to leave and go back to her place and put the vegs away.

So for a good 5-10 minutes, I did what I always do: I tore apart my purse and dumped everything out, my other bag too, felt between all the seat cushions, got frantic, and finally found it on the floor in the backseat (I think I put it on the passenger side seat and when Dusie sat on it it got pushed down). Triumphant, I held it up and crowed, "See! Don't you love it when that happens and you finally find it?"

Dusie looked at me. "Kerry, that never happens to me."

Ay yi yi. Just call me Little Miss Chaos Vector.

I also managed to lose my sunglasses in her office and overlook them when I went back to find them.

Makes Me Feel Creaky

So last weekend I cleaned out the attic. In about 2004 I stopped filing things up there, so there's quite the pile of magazines (if my collections of Bitch, Bust, ReadyMade & Budget Living don't sell on eBay, anyone want them?) and whatnot up there.

The funniest thing I found was my resume from 1997 when I was hoping for some sort of library job to sell myself on the profession, although aside from my 6 month stint in photo services, all I had done was library work. Oh, for the days when I was not between the rock and the hard place of overqualified, yet new to the profession. I was pleased to remember I was on the Dean's List 4/7 semesters. And I was WRUW's Underwriting Director, although I did a crap job. I also found all my job hunting notes and such from 2002 and 2004, useful stuff.

It's good to look at this, because it brings it home a bit that yes, I do have skills. A bit of chutzpah. The ability to get along in the workplace and do a good job, even if sometimes I think I'm such a dope these days.

Authors I've Read That You've Never Heard Of

Authors I've Read That You Haven't Heard Of: Edna Ferber

No, seriously. Between the collections of the library system I grew up in and the prep school I attended, I must have read 20-25 of her books. Everything from Showboat to So Big. Even the book set in Alaska.

She won the 1924 Pulitzer, palled around with Dorothy Parker and the rest of the gang, and was considered the best novelist of her generation. And today she's totally Trivial Pursuit.

I Could Kill You, Specs!

I came in tonight to find Cain grooming ANOTHER DAMN ABCESS ON HIS TAIL, courtesy of Specs. The fur hasn't even grown over the other scar yet.

I cleaned it up a bit, but we will be heading to the vet tomorrow morning and I will be calling RCAF about her tomorrow night.

The irony? I was feeling soft towards Specs since Debby the Catsitter reported that she was so, so sad locked up in solitary. And she is so, so sweet cuddling me at night. RCAF is lucky I already gove them the donation for her care, because she has cost me an equal amount in vet bills.

Damn it. I do not need this.

The Interview

I think the interview went well. It was a scripted panel interview, so there was no conversation (which you know is where I totally excel), so it was I paid them lots of compliments (I was very impressed with their library system--I visited all three branches), referenced their strategic plan, the library advisory board minutes, my specific skills and background, paid them compliments, made them laugh, made eye contact, and wore a suit. And sent thank you email. I may have said that I have enough spare enthusiasm to power a small country. And I come from people who don't like to work for others, and I believe in the power of small business in America, which is true. And that the reason for the delay in my move is that I am allowed limited time in my sister's house before Jesse X's patience runs out, and I want to use that time wisely, and I'll be in AZ in 3 weeks. No, I don't know how many they are interviewing or their timetable. I probably also talked too fast. The big thing is that I don't have a lot of programming experience, but I tried to bridge that gap with what I do have and emphasizing my willingness to learn (SuperC--I mentioned our trip to see Nancy Pearl as an example).

Oh, and there was a chicken in the parking lot, so I am totally taking that as a good luck sign.

The Family That Diets Together...

The thing is about Cleveland is that it's real easy for me to ignore how fat I am out here. Arizona brought that to the forefront of my mind. That and Googling the symptoms I had on the two nights last week brought up a possibility other than food poisoning: gallbladder attack. Yikes. My mom had trouble with that and had to have surgery when I was in college. (That incident prompted Dusie's running away and getting caught in and subsequently barred from the state of Kansas). I need to start eating vegetables. That's the cornerstone of any weight loss for me.

So I made salad for dinner, and even Cain (aka Plumpy) wants in on the fun. He was stealing romaine (without dressing!) and trying to eat it.

I think he mostly just likes to chew on green things.

Dusie asked if I'd go to 5:30 Boot Camp with her when I move to AZ. Jesse X won't go with her anymore. I told her I'd think on it.

My Trip To Arizona (So Far...)

Times I got lost on my reconnaissance mission to the library where I'm interviewing: 1
Times I got lost on the way back to Dusie's house: 5
Times I drove into oncoming traffic by accident: 1
Distance between cars and mine before I realized what I was doing and managed to turn around: 500 yards
Times I had to call Dusie for directions: 1
Cattle seen at the Chandler stockyards: 100 or so
Humiliations endured today: 3 (emergency stop at Walmart for clean underwear, had to ask a woman at Sonic how to order food, the woman at the nail salon offering to wax my whole face)
Amount it costs for an eyebrow wax and manicure: $18
Times a month I'd go get a manicure if it were $10 and super quick: 2
Number of Sonic cherry limeades I drank today: 2
High temperature yesterday and today: 97 degrees
Times I was allowed to drive sisters to a destination: 2

Off To Arizona

I have a job interview on Tuesday afternoon, so I am off to Arizona. Wish me luck!

I am strangely calm and confident, even though I really, really need this job. There's no reason why they shouldn't hire me, and a dozen reasons why they should--you don't get candidates like me every day that are as enthusiastic and patient with a variety of patrons, with crackerjack reader's advisory skills and a history of research excellence, and calm under pressure. I rock.

If I Have A Degree And I Can't Find Anything, Why Should The Regular Patron Have More Luck?

I went down to Lakewood Public Library tonight.

Even though it's my local library, and I've voted for the levies, I don't use Lakewood Public Library. I use Cleveland Public Library, West Park Branch. LPL's collection doesn't appeal to me, and the old building was awful. Cramped, but made worse by the fact that they seem to be think disorganization is a virtue.

If you wanted a book and you knew the title, it could be in one of many places. If it was a recent fiction title or a title recently acquired (but how would you know?), it could be over in the stacks by genre or by the new books. Or even in one of the standup displays. In addition, I've also looked for books that are listed in the catalog as being on the shelf, but when I enlisted the help of the staff I was told the book was "in storage. Or maybe missing."

You were constantly hunting. Could you ask for help? Maybe, but the reference desk was upstairs, and circulation didn't seem to do more than check out books. I once overheard an elderly woman ask for a list of movies that they had with Bette Davis, and be told that there was no way to get her such a thing.

Well, yes there is. It's called searching the catalog by keyword, and if you don't want to help her, send her to reference.

Compare this with Euclid Public Library, which is the freaking master of layout. There is nothing Euclid does better than putting the books in front of you, and the staff to answer your question, no matter what it is.

But I digress, and I'm biased.

I was over at the lovely new wing, which looks like a freaking temple but has no signs. No, really. A couple of weeks ago I went over to find a copy of Three Bags Full, which is a new book, and wandered through the new and popular materials room downstairs for a full 20 minutes before I realized that the new fiction is apparently housed in the bookshelf in the far left corner. I say apparently, because I don't know, as it's not labeled and that begs the question of what the hell is on the (also unlabeled) half-filled shelves filling the room.

And it's just not me, because of the other patrons I encountered tonight.

One was a couple down by music who were trying to figure out CD system. At one point in their discussion they said they can't find anything and asked me how the CDs are arranged. I told them that I think they're arranged alphabetically, but at some point they get categorized by genre, but you can't tell because there's no clue to what genre you're looking at from the spine of the CD case. Unprompted, they expressed disgust and confusion about the lack of signs and wondered how they were supposed to find what they wanted.

Then I had to try to find something in the paperback ghetto upstairs and as I was striding purposefully through the nonfiction a woman behind me said "Excuse me--can you help me? Do you work here?" I told her that I didn't work there but I certainly could try to help her. She was looking for a travel guide for Portugal and had asked at reference and been told "it's in the 900s."

I restrained myself from punching a wall.

First off, you don't let patrons wander off into the stacks with "it's in the 900s." You tell them a number, you write it down, and it's better if you walk them over, especially when you have no signage.. If you can't walk them over, you especially need to write down the number. And why you'd build a library and not put staff by the books they'd be directing people to is beyond me, but hey, I didn't design the place. And I'm biased on the libraries should have professional staff issue, but I do think that a willingness and ability to interact with people is, you know, mandatory.

So I help her find what she's looking for, and she asks me what I think of the library. And I tell her I'm looking at it with different eyes because I'm a professional, but I think it sucks. Lakewood Public Library is the worst example I've seen of making it pretty but not useful. It's fundamentally disorganized. And if a professional can't easily find her way around the collection, can't find the book return bin because it's hidden, and thinks the upstairs stacks are too tall and ripe for a flashing incident, how can a civilian find her way around?

There's a lot of talk in library world about how we don't connect with our users, why people get disgusted with us, why they won't ask questions, and this is why. The physical plant is alienating. The staff is absent or unhelpful. The patrons aren't necessarily lazy or dumb. Even when we're pretty, we're not perfect.

Note To Self: The Freezer Is Not A Suspended Animation Unit

Self,

Let's take the events of last night as a lesson well learned: the contents of the freezer? Dodgy. Very, very dodgy. Toss, toss, toss.

You're such an excellent and neat puker though.

I Have A New Favorite Quotation

Only remember west of the Mississippi it's a little more look, see, act. A little less rationalize, comment, talk. --F. Scott Fitzgerald

Librarianship: The Tech Problem

Special thanks to MFA Jane, who let me rant about this a few weeks ago and clarify my thoughts.

Meredith Farkas--"Building 21st Century Librarians AND Libraries.
Dorothea Salo--Naturalizing Systems Librarians.

Both Farkas and Salo make excellent points about the lack of skills surrounding information technology among our current population of librarians and library students, and the fact that library schools don't seem to be capable of teaching the skills or getting it into people's heads that these are competencies necessary in our new information age.

I think that they are missing an important point though--who's going to library school? It's now about 50/50 people fresh out of undergrad and career changers these days, but it is still overwhelmingly liberal arts types. Female too.

We're not necessarily people who get exposed to technology, who can see the need to integrate it into daily life for personal or professional reasons, or want to. I mean, I know exactly how I fell into the digital gap 20 odd years ago and the reasons why I haven't been able to climb out. And why I don't need or want to. I like my Google, email and ebooks and I like my notebook and pens. Each fulfills my needs in different ways.

So in my mind you have a choice--you can either do your best to draw more technologically able people into the profession (not likely, but possible) or you can figure out a way to make these skills accessible to the population librarianship draws.

When I ask people who in one breath bitch about librarians' lack of tech skills how they got their tech skills and what they would recommend as a starting place, what books perhaps, classes, whatever, I invariably get a vague answer like "I just did/things." Or "A friend introduced me to it."

Sigh.

It's like if I wanted to learn Spanish and asked someone how he learned Spanish and got the answer, "Oh, I went to Caracas and after a week, boom! I spoke Spanish." In other words, not much help.

Advice like "play around!" "don't be afraid to experiment!" and "find someone to teach you things!" don't work if a) you don't even have the vocabulary to describe what you don't know and b) don't have a firm idea of what it is you are supposed to know and c) where you're even supposed to start in order to learn these things.

So, I think I speak for a lot of people when I say we'd try to be 21st century librarians, if only you could help us in concrete ways to develop the skills you're bemoaning the fact we don't have.

It cuts both ways. And I do think that a lot of this is related to different generations, gender differences, to male/female learning styles and the ways we learn and the informal transfer of information and skills between people (which is what I'd study if I went onto a library/information science doctorate)

Also, can we please stop using "technology" as a broad catchall phrase for these skills and practices? Tell us precisely what it is that we should know that constitutes "technology skills." Should we know how to program? How to run a server? Kent's IAKM Computer Literacy Skills Checklist? I don't think Kent's new Information Technology for Library and Information Professionals sounds like it's enough. The word "technology" is so broad it means nothing--chimps using a stick to poke out ants is an example of "technology."

Librarianship: We Fuck Ourselves In Small Ways, And It Spreads Like The Flu

Special thanks to Genevieve, who let me rant about this to her last weekend, and who was kind enough to reassure me from her position as a working expectant mom that no, I'm not being an unreasonable bitch.

So a few weeks back I was at Borders and ran across this new book Water Cooler Diaries: Women Across America Share Their Day At Work, edited by Joni B. Cole and B.K. Rakhra. I got excited because right there on the cover, there's a post-it saying "Librarian."

I love my profession, but I'm first to admit we suffer from a self-promotion problem. We suck at it, and I have a theory why, but that's another post. We also do a variety of things, and we have a public perception problem. People a) don't know what we do and b) can't believe a Master's degree is required (whether it really is or not is another story). So that someone, namely Tonia N. Sutherland of South Hadley, MA went and wrote up her day at work and it published with other diaries of glamorous, mundane and exciting work days of women, is awesome.

Except Sutherland didn't go to work that day. Her kid got sick and she stayed home with him and worried about her job instead.

And I got pissed.

1) Librarianship's a female dominated profession with a boatload of problems from issues of deprofessionalization,
sex ratio disparities, the assumption that even our best and brightest are just marking time until we stay home with babies. And that's on top of general disrespect and low pay.

So Sutherland had the baton to do us a favor, and she dropped it. That's disappointing. If there were other librarians writing for this project and the editors just picked her piece to include to illustrate a point, I'll publicly apologize for my pissiness and send her flowers, and go toilet paper the editors' lawns.

But...

2) Grrr. Look, this is why you don't talk too much about your personal life and work. Because Sutherland wants pity/understanding for the way she's sabotaging herself at work and I can't give it to her. She's sabotaging herself by confusing her role as a wife and mother with her role of a worker. She had 4 meetings, including one about restructuring her job so that she got to do work she wants to do and a full day of work to do and she blew it off to stay home while her husband went off to his job where he makes half of what she does and gets no benefits. Honey, if "the library will not collapse because my child is sick," neither will the hospital where your husband is a nurse's aide. But your career will stall and collapse if you don't show up to work on your busy days, and I have no sympathy for the "my baby is sick!" argument. She should worry about her job--if I were her boss, I'd have trouble taking her seriously.

Part of feminism is the acceptance that when we took the right to move beyond the role of the angel of the house, we also got a new set of responsibilities. Your responsibility is to work on your career and succeed so you can provide for your child and family because you have a career and not let your husband dick around thinking that his job is as important as yours when it provides none of the benefits or responsibilities that go along with what we term good jobs.

And I get that it's hard to have kids and work. But this is why you try to structure things so that you have the primary breadwinner and a secondary person, and switch off whose career is important when, and not assume that because you're female you're responsible for the sun rising and setting.

Oh, and don't air your dirty laundry in print so bitches like me get mad and take you to task.