police burritos and clueless exes

Winter Bike-to-Work day was yesterday. Does your city celebrate? Do you?

I had the day off, Magnum works from home, so... figured we might as well bIkE tO wOrK.

Temperatures were in the upper 20's, no real wind, so it felt right. We should be a little chilly for WBTW for it to count. Although there were several stations around town, we only made one stop at the university campus which sported one stop shopping for a variety of stations. 

Two local restaurants battled it out for best sweet roll, one of our fave coffee shops provided gallons of warm caffeine, the city police dished out what were surprisingly good breakfast burritos, and other goodies.

As expected, it's not as big of a deal or turnout as summer bike-to-work. I sent this photo to my boss to rub in the fact that I was at bike-to-work while he and coworkers were just at work.

They promptly replied with their sweet roll/ burrito/ coffee/ juice orders.

Later in the day, I had a haircut appointment. Recall that from my last appointment, my stylist informed me of another stylist's unexpected death. Welp, the plot thickens.

The woman who died has a sister who is a stylist at the salon as well. The sister was working the chair next to me. She and my stylist filled us in that the other stylist was going through a divorce when she died. Her soon-to-be-ex returned to the house and took EVERYthing. 

Although separated, they were still married at the time of death, so I guess it's rightfully his barring any legal documentation saying otherwise? The sister stylist says she mainly wants her mother's jewelry. He took the mother's jewelry!

...PLUS, he still comes around wanting free haircuts. Of course he does. 

anxious

She came in and seemingly couldn't stop talking.  Told us about her husband driving her there, how she's cold all the time, why she brought so many different forms of identification, how many times she "went pee" beforehand...  And so many questions:  how do I work the locker again?  What did you say my seat number is?  Can I use the bathroom? Can I use the bathroom again?  And then, apologizing for being cold, for asking to use the bathroom, for forgetting her locker combination.

I wanted to tell her Just. Stop.  Calm. Down. Breathe. Slowly.  But I couldn't get a word in. Anxiety.

She took two separate but related certification tests.  She passed both of them, but thought she'd failed both. Then she couldn't stop talking about how amazed she was that she'd passed. She was positively giddy and shaking and teary eyed.  Honestly, I thought she was going to pass out.  Honestly.

She left and was going to text her husband to come get her.  We let her go on her way, in her racing heart, chatty state.

Did we do the right thing?

That was yesterday.

Today, a young woman came in, hardly said anything or made eye contact other than when necessary.  Similarly, she asked twice for bathroom breaks during her test.

While on her second bathroom break, my coworker returned saying that the young tester was having an "anxiety situation" in the bathroom and someone from disability services was talking with her.  She's not a student at the college, had similarly come in for a certification test.  But my coworker noticed her and rightfully found a counselor.

We patiently waited a few minutes for the woman to return and calmly redirected her to her workstation if she wished to continue.  She did manage to complete her exam, but her scores were not immediately available.

Upon finishing, she quietly signed out, gathered her things, and left - as silently as she'd arrived.  Shortly afterward, my shift ended, and I popped into the bathroom before heading home.  Quiet woman was in there sitting on the floor of a stall, her knees pulled up toward her face. I noticed someone was in the stall, but hadn't realized it was Quiet Woman sitting on the floor until noticing that what I thought was a backpack on the floor of the stall next to me was an actual back of a person.

"Are you okay?", I asked, not knowing what I'd do with her answer.

"Yeah", she replied, rather unconvincingly. "I'm just not feeling that well today".

"Would you like me to get someone from Student Services?", thinking that whomever she'd spoken with earlier had been of help.

"No", she quietly responded, adding a, "thank you", and a hint of a smile in her voice.

In my mind, I waivered.  Should I get someone anyway? Or did she just need a bit of quiet time?  Was this in relation to her test?  Or something else?  

I reminded her that the counselors were just a few steps away, or she could always return to the testing center for help or concerns.  

"Okay, thank you".

Then I left her alone. 

She was young - early 20's.  I still picture her sitting there on the floor.  She wore jeans and a cute pair of pink high top Vans.

Did I do the right thing?  I had the impression that she needed some alone time.

But I could be wrong.

Anxiety can look so different from different people.  Maybe that's why I'm more of a math person.  

how smashing

I had a routine mammogram scheduled for last August.  The doctor's office called and said the mammo-machine was on the fritz, and I would need to reschedule.  

I got rescheduled for September, and they called again to say that the new mammo-machine was great, but they were still working out a few bugs and I would need to reschedule.

I got rescheduled for October, and they called to check if I'd had any recent vaccinations.  If so, I would need to reschedule.

This, a couple of days after I got my flu shot. wouldn't ya know. Okay, fine.

I'm now scheduled for the end of December.  Any bets that the mammo happens?  That new machine's gonna be old by the time I get in there.  Honestly, I'm not disappointed to have these mammograms cancelled.  I've not gotten a COVID booster and was planning to wait until early next year anyway.

But yeah, that flu shot.  I noticed the morning after I got it that my left armpit was gelatinously swollen.  I'd taken the shot in my left arm and hadn't noticed the swelling until I went to shave and was all,

"WTF is THAT?"

I googled and of course learned that I was dying, but that it could also be a reaction to a vaccine in the form of swollen lymph nodes.  It took almost a week for the swelling to go down.  Anyone had that experience before?  For all I know, it's happened to me before, I just had never noticed.  I take it as evidence that my flu shot - and my lymph nodes - did its job.  

Now, onward to a completed mammogram for Christmas.

remember when we wished we were older

I went to my referral with the skin doctor regarding my "changing nevus" and was beckoned from the waiting area by a girl who looked to be about 16 years old.  She told me she was a physician assistant.

Then the good doctor arrived.  She didn't look much older than the PA.  Okay, I don't necessarily feel old, just everyone else seems so young!

Anyway, she looked at the mole and declared it harmless.  I think she gave yet another name for it, which I've since forgotten, and said it's common to get these as we age.  "...and you don't have to be very old to get one", she added, probably to be nice.

She said they often show up in high-friction areas, and that makes sense, as this mole/nevus/old-person mark is on my shoulder where the strap of my purse or backpack lays.  It was a very relaxed - almost boring - consult, unlike the internet search that told me I was abnormal and doomed.

And that was that, I was in and out nice and quickly.  She offered to remove the mole if I wanted, but I said I'd just keep it (and the removal fee).

Some people believe that birthmarks or moles we're born with are signs of trauma from our past lives.  Well, first you have to believe in reincarnation.  Ya think? Maybe?

Who knows?  I have a large birthmark that covers most of one side of the upper portion of my back.  I forget which side it's on as I don't see it often.  I was oblivious to it until a doctor pointed it out to me when I was a teenager getting a sports physical.  

I have another on my lower left leg.  Show-and-Tell time, see it?

I remember often pondering the mark while in the bathtub as a little kid.  But I certainly never had any past-life revelations.  

If I were to make up a past life story?  Civil war injury to my leg?  Eventually killed me.

As for the big mark on my back... Gored by a wooly mammoth?  Or something stupid like worked or smoked myself to lung cancer oblivion?

Birthmarks.  Got any?  What's your (made up or otherwise) story?

the weekend begins

Technically, it's a cat perch, but Penny didn't get the memo.

not a creeper

I was at a P.E.O. meeting the other night.  We were at this one sister's house, having our little meeting, and I was sitting there and couldn't help but notice the many photos on the mantle.  Plus, there was a lovely watercolor just above the mantle of a couple of young girls sitting in the sun.

I need new glasses, but I'm holding out until the start of the year when our new vision plan kicks in.  At that time, I plan to totally give in to joining Team Bifocal.  They've been recruiting me for a while now, and it's time to answer the call.

Anyways, I was sitting there, and even in my state of visual impairedness, one of the girls in the mantle photos looked familiar, and one of the watercolored girls in the sun looked like a younger version of her.  Once the meeting adjourned, I went up for a closer look.  Lo and behold, I knew her.  She was a student of mine earlier this year.

The woman whose house we were at did have the same last name of my student, but I didn't think that much of it as we rarely reference our last names.  Plus, the student is Chinese, and this P.E.O. sister is about as Anglo as they come.

The photos showed family in various stages and ages, but another woman and I were looking and concluded that there were seven children in all.  Four biological, three adopted Chinese girls.

I found our hostess in her kitchen and asked, "Are you Anna's mom??"

"Yeah, you know her?"

"She was a student of mine earlier this year", I replied, hoping her mother - my sister - didn't look at me as a money pit.

Lily, my sis, looked at my nametag, "Oh, you're the tutor!"

Occasionally, I'll have a high schooler who handles all of the correspondence and the setting up of meeting times, etc. on her own.  I usually get at least one e-mail from a parent and they might show up to meet me for the first meeting, but I didn't think much of it when Anna handled all of the communication.  Her account had made it through all the necessary hurdles, and when I did meet her, she came across as relatively mature and independent, so no biggie.

So we kinda laughed about not knowing about each other until then.  "Nice to meetcha, Mom", "Nice to meetcha Tutor".

She explained, "I've never hired a tutor before.  Since you met her at the library and she said you were good, I knew you weren't a creeper!"


Think I'll put that on my resume'.

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Alice gets slutty

I thought I saw something about a bicycling event.  Something downtown this week.  I mainly paid attention because I often tutor downtown, so I checked out the various street closures, to see how they affected where I was going.

Then today, Alice and I headed downtown to drop some things off at the library and reserve my study rooms for next week.  It seemed a pretty typical day.  Lovely ride into the city, the hobos lounging in the shade of the underpasses.

As I left the library, a policewoman was putting up street barriers out front, and I remembered the road closures.  I noticed people starting to line the streets.  Something was about to happen?

I rode around a bit and saw an area set up with a bunch of cycling themed tents and booths, but decided not to go in - mainly because it looked like I'd have to pay for a wristband to do so.  Nope, not that interested.  I'd just turn around at the next intersection and head on home.

Just as I pulled up to the next intersection, a pack of spandex-clad bicyclists entered from my left and continued to my right, just the direction I was going.  Now, bicycles are quite common downtown, and I often find myself in a sort of "train".  But this!   This was a pack.  And they were all in spandex on really expensive looking bicycles.  Not the usual Panhandler Specials.

But they clearly weren't racing, just riding gently in a pack around downtown.  I found myself riding along in the middle of them along with a few other "civilians".  Okay, that was kinda neat.  Kinda.

Apparently, they were warming up.  And getting the crowd interested.  It got me to hang around, and I don't even like bicycle racing, remember?

Eventually, they rode by for realz: [SOURCE]





 Okay, so I guess this is a pretty big event.

Thanks for letting me tag along for a couple of blocks, guys!

Well... then again, I am Goose Poop Queen.  They should be thanking me.
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Linking up again with Mama Kat for the prompt:

4.) Begin with "I thought I saw..."

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growth

Our fish aquarium.  What is its purpose?  It doesn't feed or clothe or shelter us.  It's not particularly interactive.  It doesn't cook or clean or change the oil.  Perhaps it's just one extravagance amid my minimalism. 

I luxuriate in its humming, bubbling presence.  Its meditative spirit fills the room with a certain calmness. The ritualistic cleanings and arrangings make it a sort of zen garden for me, along with the daily practices of feeding and turning the light on in the mornings and off at bedtime.  I would love to have a bigger one or a more exotically shaped one rather than the 30-gallon rectangular, but it'll do. 

Currently, however, its zen presence is being messed with.  We have an intruder.  The intruder is pond scum.

A few weeks ago, the fluorescent bulb in the hood blew out.  I sought out a replacement and selected one that was specifically categorized for plants and aquariums, and then there was light.

Followed by pond scum.

I noticed my zen garden aquarium becoming cloudy and greenish.  It was hard to see the fish when they went to the back.  Cleaning it only makes it a little less cloudy and greenish for a day or so.  

Just my luck.  I've never been particularly good with plants. Seems like all of the houses we've lived in just didn't have an area that provided the right amount of sun, and my plants have struggled.

And yet here I am, procreating a bumper crop of pond scum. 

So I'm calling on the experts:  fish keepers and/or pot growers.  Should I

(a) leave it and realign my zen values?
(b) go without a light in the hood and just rely on nature?
(c) start up a small pot-growing operation?
(d) a and c?
(e) b and c?

I'm thinking if I choose (c), while it won't cure the problem, I just might not care anymore.
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attention deficit

Today, I go to the Post Office. Wednesday is now official Post Office Day.

I go to the Post Office each Wednesday to check our Post Office Box. A few years ago, we got a Post Office Box for financial type things we didn't want coming to our street box. These identity theft days, you can't be too careful leaving that stuff laying around. At the time, we also had an autistic boy neighbor who would occassionally go "play" with people's mail, so enter the P.O. box.

They're relatively cheap at $5 a month, plus the branch office where ours is located is a pleasant couple miles bike ride away. As it was, I only visited the box when we were expecting something of importance in there. Such was the case a few months ago. I arrived, key in hand, and went to open the box.

Nothing.

Key would not turn. I fiddled with it, I rattled it, I checked the number, I fiddled some more.

Nothing.

It was as if the lock had been changed. So I came back home and called the post office - that was actually the quicker alternative to standing in line - and learned that, yes, the lock HAD been changed.

The lock had been changed because we didn't pay our 6-month's rent. We didn't pay our 6-month's rent because I wasn't aware that it was due. I wasn't aware that it was due because I hadn't kept track of when it was due. I hadn't kept track of it because the post office had always sent me a bill a couple of weeks before it was due. They sent me the bill via...

... our P.O. box.

which I couldn't get into because the lock was changed because we didn't pay the rent because I didn't know the rent was due because the due notice was put into the box which I couldn't get into because.... well, okay.

So last Wednesday, I rented us a shiny new box. And now Wednesdays are Post Office Days. I'm not really expecting anything of importance, but I just want to get myself into the habit of paying the lonely box a weekly visit.




I hope there's at least a Lego catalog awaiting me.
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nooz

Yema balls.

I'm supposed to make Yema balls today. Or at least get them started.

What the Francis are Yema balls??

Apparently, they are some sort of Filipino dessert/cookie thing. Wolfgang said he was bringing them to his "International" party tomorrow. Enter mom-makes-yema-balls request.

He found a recipe online. I searched and found several others. No two match. Dang yema balls.

I will attempt something. Probably an amalgamation of various yema ball recipes. I mean, who's gonna know if they turned out right or not? Yema balls?

IN other news, remember my cute little iPod shuffle? I took it for it's first run today. Oh, so fun! So light! Now the thing with it is, it's so tiny, that there are no controls other than off/on/play/shuffle on the little unit. Volume control and skip/pause are on this little switch attached to the wire of the earbuds.

So I'm on my iPod run, and I go to decrease the volume and some point. Well, nothing changed. I'm like clicking away on that little control and nothing. I try "pause", nothing. It worked fine earlier on the various little test drives.

I'm trying it now, and the pause/skip works, but still no volume control. I think maybe it gets saturated with perspiration, and this perspiration saturation renders it useless? Anyone else have this problem??

updateness: I searched online (how did we get anything done before the internet??) and yes, apprently this is a sweat-gets-into-the-controller problem. Teflon tape anyone?

Other than that, I love it.

IN other news, Meego still wants a baby. What I thought was just a passing phase is still here. Maybe we should start "the talk".

Yema balls should be easier.
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when I grow up.... a confession of sorts

This morning, I was out in the wee hours for a run. Yes, it was dark, but I've gotten used to that now.

The thermometer said that it was 45 degrees, so I dressed accordingly and headed out into the dark abyss. It was a little chilly, but I knew I'd warm up once I got moving. Sheesh, yes!

I swear I felt the temperature rise 5 to 7 degrees in about 30 seconds, like someone turned on a heat lamp, minus the light! Suddenly, I had on one layer too many. But oh well, I trudged onward, hoping it was a freak hot wind current I was just passing through. Then I had the thought...

"I wonder if this is a hot flash..."

Seriously, I don't think I've ever had one. Heard of 'em, sure, but had the "pleasure" of one? Don't think so. I don't know much about them, preferring instead to just avoid the topic altogether

So there I was. Out there running. In the dark. With too many clothes on. Feeling all old-ladyish or whatever.

It did eventually cool down from the initial heat surge, but I still think I could've done without some piece of clothing. When I returned back to the house, I checked the thermometer...

AHA! Rejoice!! It said 51 degrees. So there HAD been some chinook wind or something that blew in some hot air!

Nothing like a bit of gerascophobia to wake you up in the morning!
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you're with Stupid

I've owned my current bicycling helmet for over a year. It's purdy. It's red and white and a little black. I don't think much about it, but if I don't wear it while riding my bicycle I feel kinda naked.

Several months ago, the thick pads I had in there to make it fit my head correctly came unglued and fell out. That was crappy because then it didn't fit right. I tried to think of some ways I could put something else in there to make it fit right, but in the meantime, I just tied a bandana around my head to wear underneath the helment. I didn't particularly like this solution - it added yet another step to the whole bicycling preparation and it, God forbid, kinda messed up the position of my ponytail. Nope, didn't like it. But it was better than having my helmet all loose and wobbly.

So the other day, we're all at the park. Meego's on his bicycle, Wolfgang's on his rollerblades, Chaco's on his bicycle. Meego's complaining about his crappy helmet - which really is crappy, shouldn't have bought that one. Then Wolfgang announces that his helmet is too small.

"Give it to Meego", I suggest. AHA! Beautiful. Problem solved - well, for Meego anyway.

Chaco announces that his helmet's small too. "Give it to Wolfgang". AHA! Beautiful. Problem solved - for Wolfgang anyway.

Okay, so all this leads up to me going with Chaco to get a new cycling helmet yesterday. He ended up selecting the same make and model of the purdy red white and a little black helmet that I own, just in different colors. AND his had this cool adjustable head strap, so it can fit a whole range of heads just perfectly!

"Gee, I wish my helmet had that adjustable strap", funny, they're the same make and model, maybe mine's just an old design.

No. Not really. Mine has the adjustable strap too. I checked when we got home. I just never knew it. All this time. All savvy bicycle commuter chick. Wearing that stupid bandana.

How em*BARR*assing. I hope no one finds out.

*OOPS* ... DANG NEED TO BLOG EVERYTHING!

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