le' go my LEGO

Last night I died and went to heaven. I know, freaky isn't it! I died yet I can still write this blog from the great beyond! Okay, what really happened is that I discovered the LEGO store in Bellevue. You heard me - the LEGO STORE, in my state, within driving distance. Granted, it isn't as amazing as the LEGO store outside of Disneyland - no life-sized giraffe made out of LEGOs - but it does have the LEGO wall. You buy a cup for X amount and then cram that sucker as full of LEGOs as you can. They had colors that I've never seen in a LEGO before, like bright orange and lime green. That's right, LIME GREEN! (Oh my gosh, as I'm writing this there is a show on the TV where the family is visiting Legoland! Do, do, do do.....)

I was think that opening a LEGO shop would be great so I actually wrote to the company to ask if I could open a store. Here is what they said:

"We appreciate your interest in the possibility of opening a retail outlet carrying a full line of LEGO brand toys in your area. Your interest in this type of business venture certainly does attest to your enthusiasm for our products.

We would like to explain how LEGO toys are sold. Our products are marketed through a variety of established retail distribution channels; toy supermarkets, national chain discount stores, catalog showrooms, department stores, and specialty toyshops. Additionally, the LEGO Shop at Home Service and LEGO Outlet Stores are corporate direct-marketing programs. In conjunction with our business objectives, we do not offer any sort of franchises or assist in establishing businesses for individuals who wish to sell our products exclusively."

I think that's a nice way of saying "nah uh, you freak." I wrote back telling them that I think they are making a mistake. We'll just have to see how that goes over.

The Wall of Happiness

Turning Japanese

This past Monday I had lunch with my friend Roy. Roy is in his 70's and is the father of my best bud PR. He is by far the coolest "old guy" I know. We had lunch at the Bay Cafe at Fisherman's Warf and then went for a walk in Discovery Park. It was a beautiful day for walking and talking. (I told him about my ruminations about the Demartini method, poor guy.) Roy is a fantastic photographer. He is a member of the Seattle Photographic Society and has won many awards over the years. I just received a DVD in the mail today with several of his favorite photographs. I will be posting many of his photos in my new "photo of the week" section. This man should be making money with these things! He has such a great eye. If only he were a few years younger.....

(This photo is of Discovery Park and was taken by Patricia Reed.)

Fire in the hole

I was just reading the Yarn Harlot blog about the moving guys and the stove (titled: the way things are) and was reminded of a similar story that I like to tell about men's stupidity.

When we were living in NY we had one car between the two of us. It was the Mazda GLC I bought when I was in grad school. After many years of NY city driving, the ol' GLC was starting to have serious problems. When it came time to retire ol' yeller, we decided to drive it to the LDEO campus and leave it in the back parking lot where all the old cars were left to be hijacked by aliens or towed away, whichever came first.

It was a cold and snowy day; not actively snowing but there was slush on the road and driving was tricky. I was driving the old car and M was driving behind me in the new car to make sure I made it up the final hill to campus. I was almost to the top when the car finally gave out and I had to pull over. I got out and saw flames underneath the car. Here is how events unfolded from there:

me: "Hey M, the car is on fire!"

M: "No it isn't"

me: "Yes, it is. I see flames! Get some snow to throw on the engine or something!"

M: "Nah. The car isn't on fire."

me: "But I see flames!"

M: "No you don't."

Guy in a Jeep driving by: "Hey man, your car is on fire!"

M: "Oh man! You're right! Thanks!"

Result: $80 to tow car 500 feet to said parking lot and much scowling on my part. Like I said, men are stupid.

Giving in

It may be time for me to throw in the towel, and the credit card, and sign up for this on-line dating thing. Maybe I'm just fresh meat but I've received 4 inquiries or, as they call it, "interested in you" emails from chemistry.com and they get more interesting each time. I'm not sure if Assad and I will have a lot in common but it might be interesting to find out, don't ya think? Especially since I'm all ready with my new Demartini outlook. Let's review the pros and cons of this venture:

pro: free meals
con: leg shaving
pro: fun times
con: stomach sucking
pro: getting compliments
con: taking compliments
pro: finding someone who likes me for who I am
con: more leg shaving
pro: having a smile on my face all the time
con: having to explain the smile on my face and clean shaven legs to the soon-to-be ex-husband living in the basement and my teen-aged daughter without looking like some sort of brazen hussy just looking for a good time and a free meal.

Oh, but since I'm in the Demartini-zone now, it's all good, right?

Martinis or Demartinis?

I have become addicted to listening to books on tape (or CD). I've always enjoyed reading but since opening the store, I haven't had time. Or more specifically, I haven't figured out how to knit or crochet and read at the same time. Watch TV, yes; read, no. When I was recovering last year, my brother was kind enough to lend me his iPod which he had filled with 40 books! It was wonderful. I find now that I must be listening to something when I go to bed or I find it hard to fall asleep.

Last night, I was listening to a story on my computer when my daughter asked me to copy the story onto a CD so she could listen to it. This meant that I could not listen to the story at the same time and was therefor forced to turn on the radio or go through auditory withdrawal - not pretty. (Geez, what a big setup for my point. And I do have a point, I think.) It was late-ish and a rather obscure new-agey type of show was on. I wasn't going to actually listen to what they were talking about because it sounded a bit too touchy-feely for me but I found myself paying attention after a bit. (We're getting closer, I promise.) It turns out the host was interviewing a Dr. Demartini - a self-help kind of guy who seemed extremely full of himself and very A.D.D.. I did a lot of eye rolling and "whatever" muttering as I listened. Basically, his philosophy has to do with neutralizing all your positive and negative feelings about things in order to balance out your life and make yourself happy. He didn't say that in such simple terms - there was a lot of talk about "love matrix" and "divine love," blah, blah, blah; yatta, yatta, yatta. Here's a description of the Demartini method:

The method involves the use of a pre-determined series of questions and actions directed toward the objective of bringing an individual's conscious mind to states of presence and certainty, and to their physical body the feelings of gratitude and unconditional love.

The gist of it is that you think positive about the negative and negative about the positive and it all comes out in the wash and you can be rich and happy and live in a big house in Australia. If someone tells you your an asshole, you say: "why yes I am, thank you very much for noticing," and go on about your business. (I call this the Popeye Theory o' Life - "I am what I am.") He also talks about something that I'm going to call Fickle Feelings. That is, you can transfer your neutralized feelings from one thing to another without penalty because you are finding the positive in all things. So, when his wife died suddenly, it was okay for him to boink the young neighbor because all he was doing was transferring his positive feelings for the dead wife to this living person. No mourning necessary. How convenient for him! It's also okay to get paid enormous amounts of money by people who are miserable with their lives because money is just an exchange medium for services - all positive - and he has no attachment to it. (He isn't attached to it because he spends it all on houses in Australia and his Gold Rolls Royce, etc.) Damn! I want a method!

Although I find this guy nauseating, I did find one thing he talked about thought-worthy. If you set unrealistic goals for yourself, you will be unhappy. I think that's not to say that you shouldn't have your dreams exceed your reach but you actually have to have the (metaphorical) arms to reach with or your screwed. So I can't be a superhero with x-ray vision but I can learn to fly. (Finally, a reference to Martinis!)

Cowgirls shouldn't wear thongs

Saturday night I went to a Cowgirl party at a friend's on Capital Hill. The board game is designed to encourage story telling and is a HOOT to play with the right crowd. (Think of it as Trivial Pursuit meets The View.) You move your horse around the board collecting charms by answering questions, etc. (See sample card below.) The first to get to the Ranch with all her charms wins the game. I highly recommend serving margaritas or just straight shots of tequila for the best game play.

There are some of my friends that would not enjoy this sort of sharing game but, then again, it might give them an excuse to talk about things that they normally wouldn't talk about. It might be best to play with people who you aren't all that close to so if something "delicate" comes up, you don't have to worry about the little tidbit getting spread around your usual circle. Most of the questions where innocuous enough but some where pretty deep. One of the categories was called "sex and body"- this category had the best questions by far, so we made sure to ask that question in addition to whatever question was required. It was WAY more fun that way. (It was a "mixed" crowd so lots of good stories.)

I was in charge of the food which, if you know me at all, could have been disastrous. Cooking is not my forte. I made enchiladas and I winged it all the way. They turned out great! I made two big pans - about 16 enchiladas. Here's my recipe:

Ingredients
corn tortillas, warmed in a frying pan until they are soft
1 bag of Trader Joe's organic roasted corn
1 small can of chilies (or fresh ones, if you're that kind of person)
2 cans organic black beans
1 large can of green enchilada sauce
1 yellow and 1 red pepper sliced or diced
shredded cheese of your choice (I used a monterrey jack/cheddar mix)
Option: chicken pieces.

I fried the peppers just a little bit to soften them up - you could steam them instead.
Mix the corn, beans, and chilies in a bowl. Roll up this mix with a few of the pepper strips in the warmed tortillas and lay them in a baking pan. Cover with the sauce and sprinkle on the cheese. Pop it in a 350º oven until the cheese is melted. Garnish with cilantro, if you have it lying around. Yummy.

Here's a picture of the Cowgirls. The hostess has more photos that she's going to load on Flicker soon, I hope. There were some good ones.

chemistry redeux

I just got an email from chemistry.com that said someone was interested in me. I didn't think that my profile was actually posted! Ew, ew, ew.... I don't think I like this. The good news is that I don't have to respond if I don't want to. I really don't want to. And just so you know, I made that decision before I went on line and read this guys profile and saw his picture. Okay, so if he had really wowed me with his essay and picture I might have been tempted but... that didn't happen. (To be totally honest, he looked a lot like my second boyfriend from college. Not a great plus.) I don't think this is the route for me. Too weird or too soon or too--- something. I'll just have to wait for some nice guy to accidentally come in to the shop to ask for directions and then "accidentally" break the lock on the door so he can't get out and has no choice but to talk to me. Isn't that how Black Widow spiders catch their mate?

Along the lines of personal chemistry, I have decided that it is time for me to acquire a personal "scent." Okay, when I re-read that sentence it sounds kind of gross but let me explain. Somewhere in the back of my brain that holds all the useless bits about personal style (I call it the Oprahabium) is a memory about an article or show regarding things that define you stylistically - ya know, like always wearing a scarf or thongs. Anyway, having a personal scent was one of those things that can help define you, albeit superficially. What the heck, I could use some superficiality, couldn't you? (I think that's a title of an 80's song by Big Flock of Haircuts, or someone like that.) Perfume has always given me a headache so I've never bothered with it but that nagging little ache in my Oprahabium was needing attention all of the sudden. So, I went into Sephora and told the clerk that I wanted to smell like fresh citrus; a scent I've always liked. We sprayed a bunch of different scents on sticks and waved them around under my nose until I found one that didn't immediately make me nauseated. I sprayed some on me and walked around for a while to see if it turned sour or made me itchy. About one hour later, a purchase was made! The scent is Mandarine and Basile and so far, so good. No rashes, no headaches, no urges to lick my arms. So now I can die happy knowing that my friends will have something to say about me at my funeral --- "she always smelled like salad."