nina turns 40

Jerry did the most romantic thing for me today. He got me a bathtub. Now let me explain. I love taking hot baths. It keeps me sane, it's my sanctuary, my therapy, my solitude and my favorite place to read. On our road trip, after we stopped for dinner in Centralia we went across the street to an antique bathtub showroom and talked the owner into letting us in after hours just so I could gawk at the clawfoots. The funny thing is, though, that we both live in rental digs, and neither of us really has a place to put a five foot long heavy as hell bathtub, much less use it. It's something I won't be able to use for years. So what it boils down to is that he bought me a gift for the future. And if that ain't romantic, I don't know what is.

cB has it all wrong. It's not that I don't want him calling people "pussy" because it's not PC, it's because a pussy is a beautiful thing, and the word should never be used as an insult, but rather only in phrases such as: I'd really like to eat your...Besides, I happen to know he was just mad about something else and taking it out on the poor helpless porsche owners (and no, it's not me who got him all foamin' at the mouth).

More exciting road trip discoveries!

Favorite winery? Syncline in the tiny town of Bingen on the Columbia in Klickitat County.

Never, ever, EVER listen to the advice of the lady in the Yakima visitor's center about where to eat Mexican food (yes, yes, we really know better, but it was almost 2:30, we hadn't eaten breakfast, and we were hungry.

Where to get coffee in Cle Elum? Here.

The trip was highlighted by gorgeous mountain views. First one was Mt. Index, enjoyed through the picture window of a diner while eating the best crisp on the outside, tender inside, not cooked in margarine hashbrowns ever. Then was Mt. Hood, blazing white above the horizon one morning on our way to get coffee. Finally, on the drive home last night, Mt. Rainier in all her glory, huge, dominating the skyline, glowing softly with muted evening colors and letting everybody know who's boss around here. We never did see Mt. Adams, who coyly hid behind the clouds the whole time, and Mt. St. Helens just sort of appeared to whiz by as we cruised up I-5. Then when I got to work this morning, Mt. Baker, who since she is so far north, doesn't show her face very often, decided to give it up most spectacularly. This is why one lives in Seattle--mountains all around you; and I didn't even mention the sunset over the Olympics last night.

Road Trip!

They say that travelling together is the true test of a relationship. If that's the case, then cB and I have got it made, because we road trip together beautifully. Even the potentially disastrous parts of the trip-- enchiladas made with frozen veggies, having trouble finding the yurt, not getting to see the rock paintings--were cause for laughter instead of annoyance. It helps that I love road trips more than just about anything. I love that sense of possibility and freedom, of being open to whatever you may find as you travel along. It's the way I'd always like to live my life, but find that it's so much easier to do so on the road.

I'll write more about it later (I'm at work now, give me a break), but if you can't wait for more details, you can see what cB has to say about it here.

Made the best damn chocolate sauce just now, with a coupla squares from the 85% Michel Cluizel that cB gave me, my leftover coffee from this morning, and of course, butter, sugar and half n half. I realize that chocolate of this quality (and expense) is really best just eaten slowly, one square at a time, while savoring the mouthfeel and blathering on about the flavor notes (see the wine post below), but I couldn't resist tweaking my usual hot fudge recipe, and the results were outstanding. Too bad you weren't here to try some.

I just found out it's Spring Barrel tasting this weekend for many of the Yakima Valley wineries. Why didn't this ever pop up in my prodigious research earlier? On the one hand it might be kind of fun, you buy your commemorative wine glass for five bucks and then wander from winery to winery getting it filled up (right from the barrel), but who wants to do that with thousands of other dumb ass tourists mulling around and taking up the good parking spots and hotel rooms? Not to mention trying to show off their pretentious and unenlightening wine tasting vocabulary. damn!

I'm actually looking forward to going back to work today. Not out of any sense of missing the mundane duties I'm so priveleged to perform everyday at eVil Corporation, but it is nice to have an excuse to get out of the house for something other than an errand. As much as I fantasize about not having to work, I could never be a stay-at-home mom in the sense that my job was to keep house and hang with the kids. It's too hard, and too underappreciated. Not that I feel so very appreciated now, but at least I have money in my pocket at the end of the day.

the down side to staying home with alex is that he wants to watch Barney and Mr. Rogers. Mr. Rogers, may he rest in peace, always kinda gave me the creeps as a kid. Now I know why: he has a character on his show named Mr. McFeely.

Coffee Lust

OK, forget that fancy built-in Miele I oogled earlier. This is what I really want.

Home again with sick kidlet for the second day in a row. I feel a bit guilty because we're really swamped at work. Does that prevent me from being secretly gleeful to have the excuse to stay home? ummmm, no. And yes, i'm still taking friday off for my road trip with cB. (Bad employee!) We're just gonna cruise around the state a bit, head east of the mountains to the Yakima valley by roundabout way of Leavenworth and Wenatchee, check out some gardens, some brew pubs, a winery or two, the odd petroglyph or rock painting, and sleep in the famous Yurt--all the while searching for what everyone says is the best Mexican food in the state.

first rule of dating as a single mom: it's gonna be a million times harder than you ever thought. second rule: it's probably gonna hurt

The kidlet and I are on our way to Sequim for the weekend. Haven't seen my folks since Hawaii, and I can't remember the last time we went up to their house. I'm so ready to get out of the city. The best part is, I get to do it next week, too, with cB.
I have a picture on my desk taken on an Easter morning over 30 years ago. It's of my sister and me in our backyard and we're all dressed up in brand new easter finery, which incudes sunglasses, lace covered head bands, and for me, a pink plastic purse. I'm standing with my arm on J's shoulder and we are smiling easily--we look happy, not just posing for the camera. I wonder which of my parents took the picture, I don't remember. I don't remember anything else about that day, in fact. But I do remember those dresses, and having that picture snapped. I wish I could remember more about what that girl was like, what she thought and felt, what she wanted with her life. Also on my desk is a picture of me at 30, standing with my nose in a flower goofing around with my best friend (who is five years younger than I) in a park in Uruapan. I'm smiling happy in my sunglasses, and S. is there on my right, close to me, with her smile hidden by a giant blossom. It strikes me now how similar these two fotos are, both in posture and the relationships. It seems you carry around your family dynamics and recreate them in various ways throughout your life. J., the original little sister, and now S., the surrogate one.

Fashion tip of the day:

Never eat with chopsticks when wearing a white sweater.

I'm dubbing my new apartment arachnilandia in honor of the wide variety of spiders that hang out here. I'm not one of those chicks who freaks out at spiders, but this is getting out of hand. I can handle the daddy long legs in the bath tub, I love the cute little wee ones who build their webs in the corners, but when those gnarly assed speed demon hide in the dark and come up your drain spiders start showing up, then I'm a bit concerned. I've only seen what I think is one of those, and she was a baby, but the fact that I couldn't catch her on a piece of paper and help her out the door makes me worried. These puppies get big. and hairy. though nothing like this (via uffish thoughts). [note to jill--don't click there]

I've purposely avoided reading too much about the war (not too mention watching it on TV) partly because I think it's gross the way the war is manipulated by the media into propaganda, and worst of all, entertainment--but, what has struck me most forcefully in the little that I have read, is how odd it is to read about soldiers who are women.

Just when I thought things were going pretty well between the kidlet's dad and I, when i was thinking that maybe we could really be friends and parent together and that he'd spend more time with his son, yadda yadda, i get one of those phone calls. Oh they happen from time to time, and usually he just gets my voice mail and lets it fly on there. Unfortunately, last night I actually answered the phone. And we're back to square one (nina is evil). After three years of living apart. At least now I'm feeling pretty motivated to serve the damn papers already. What was it that cB said? You only truly know your spouse after going through a divorce. Sure brings out the ugly in some people.

In happier news, my Italian class, which got postponed last week, seems to be on for today, and a friend from my Mexico days is in town to perform at On the Boards.

I'm sick of divorce. sick of his and how much of his emotional energy (among other things) that it drains, sick of mine hanging over my head and me being somehow inert to just get it DONE, sick of thinking that it's the inevitable conclusion to any pairing up of two people. I want a love story, I want to think about people coming together, I want to see some soul mates, dammit; gimme some of that love conquers all stuff. And i want real life stories, too, no cheesy hollywood interpretations.

One thing i've noticed about parenting: you tend to re-live stages of your own childhood along with your kid. Or maybe i'm just feeling small and vulnerable of late. I know I'm really looking forward to going to see my mom for easter, to getting some of that unconditional love and a big hug or two. I'm also lacking in one of my favorite therapies--hot water. The new place has a bathtub that's barely big enough for washing a dog, much less the long sweat inducing soaks that I need in order to deal with my life. Gramma's got that side of things taken care of, too: both a hot tub outside and a gargantuan soaking tub off the master bath. Even urban girls like the comforts of the 'burbs from time to time...

If you're aren't feeling depressed enough about Iraq, check this out.

Feeling all fluish and wiped out. Went to work late and then ended up coming home early anyway and going back to bed. I still have way too much stuff in boxes, and no place to put it. Friends have promised me furniture (a table, and some shelves), but I'm still waiting and wondering if I shouldn't just go buy my own. Then there's all the empty boxes everywhere. Not to mention dirty dishes and laundry to be done. Reminds me of why I moved to Mexico...

relationship math

we did a little calculation and figured out that I have sent cB 1042 emails in the almost six months that i have known him. averages out to about six a day. reading some of the messages from when we first met is pretty funny. of course, we met on the net, so our brief courtship all happened on email. In fact, the whole cB moniker came about from the subject line of one of those early messages. alright, alright, i'll tell you. coyBoy.

went bowling with cB and all the kids last night. highlights include: throwing a strike my first ball, slipping and falling on my ass, the wannabe punk kids in the next lane throwing a ball into a lane that was still setting up, breaking the gate and thereby getting themselves kicked out, cB dropping the ball on his backswing, and best of all: winning cash on a bet that I could pick up a split. After two games I was totally wiped out and achy. Still hurt now, in fact. Who thought bowling could make you feel so old?

coffee lust

here's a little contradiction for you: I fantasize a lot about having my own house. Especially after being booted out of my last digs unexpectedly, the thought of a little place of my own is very appealing. And of course it has to be a totally eco-friendly, alternative materials, hippie, off-the-grid sort of place with a composting toilet and a wood fired hot tub outside. I'd love to build as much of it myself as I could (this is a fantasy, go with me here). But, in the kitchen, i want this.

more reasons i love cB...

He brings over sections or articles from the NY Times that he knows I will like. He buys special worms for his compost pile. He puts up with my snooze alarm. He likes to take his kids on trips. He knows the hottest sex comes from being in love. He's gonna teach me acupuncture.

It was all a lie, I won't have my phone line until tomorrow, qwest sucks and I hate them. On a happier note, I ordered a new cell phone yesterday, which I'll also have tomorrow, and cB has yet another opening tonight. This one is the coolest, though, because it's First Thursday, which means lots of art hungry folks wandering about, and because it's at Cafe Paloma which only shows fotography, and it's his second show there. What am I up to, you ask? Why, I'm going to take Italian at La Scuola Italiana (where else?) starting this saturday. The Scuola is right down the street from my office, and i've often looked at the class schedule longingly. Learning Italian right now has absolutely no practical ramifications whatsoever, unfortunately i'm not planning a trip to tuscany or hosting a gorgeous italian man or anything like that. I just think it will be really fun, and lord knows i need more of that in my life now.