Sigma Pi Alpha Moo - SPAM

This entry has less to do about the meat by product staple of the Hawaiian islands and more about the first word of that combination - Sigma.

As you may recall, all my dedicated readers, I purchased me a brand new lens. Today, said lens arrived. And I love, love, love, love it. I've spent all evening wondering through the neighborhood in search of things to photograph. And in typical jenn photography phasion I found flowers. Lots and lots of flowers oh and a boat.

My ultimate goal is to break out of the flower world. This weekend I plan on going into Seattle and wondering the streets in search for pigs and other great things to shoot. I've been given inspiration by many sites that show photos by photographers I admire. I've heard the more you look at pictures you want to take, the more your eye will start to see those things. We shall see.

I'm a coward. But it's done.

Just hit Send and sent this to the Crush:

Gary - I know this is a lame way to tell you, ans suspect you may already know, but I have an enormous crush on you. Have for a long time and I just wanted you to know.

Hope this doesn't make you feel odd or weird around me now, but I'm willing to take that risk.

Cheers
Jenn

**********************************
Oh the relief.

On Old McDonald's farm, there lived a flamingo

This weekend was a whirlwind of pink. The Parental Units are over and so I took this opportunity to hit mom up for making me a flamingo "poncho". I found the pattern last week and asked, but this was the first she got a chance to glance at the beauty that would be my flamingo poncho. Anyone else looking at this pattern would never assume that a simple, non assuming piece of brown clothing (the picture shows it in brown) could in fact be turned into a Pink Flamingo Poncho. I'm sure it'll be all the rage and everyone will want one. I'll make millions. Of course, I'll have to give some to the mom unit since she produced it, and well, me ultimately.

We wondered through the fabric store touching, looking, moving all pink fabric we could to see which would be best for the coveted Flamingo Poncho. (You know you want one.) Then we decided on a nice piece of crushed velvet. We wondered back to find thread as the MomUnit reminded me one uses thread to sew. See why I don't sew. On our way we stopped and picked out a feather boa that would match. The MomUnit kept exclaiming that she'd be blind by the end of this. I believe she was referring to the brightness of the fabric, but it could be she's just getting on in her years. (She'll be 60 this year... shhhh don't tell her. She still thinks she's 35).

We wondered around the back side of the "sewing" area and behold. I found this. This beautiful flamingo - sorta - looking fabric. If you look closely enough you'll see that the fabric has some texture like little individual threads stick out...sorta flamingo shag really. The boa we had for the other fabric clashed in a bad way with this, so I ran back and picked up this lighter pink number. The boa will line the neck line and the bottom hem of the poncho. Eva Gabor will have nothing on my Flamingo Poncho. Hey, maybe she'll want to buy one or two. If she's even still alive. I'm giddy with excitement for this costume. It'll be one for the history books that's for sure. Last night whilst I dozed off into flamingo dream land I had this fleeting thought about my foot high wig, "How on earth am I going to drive my Mustang with that wig on?"

Happy S.H.I.T day

(Sure Happy It’s Thursday) It’s been a long one boys and girls. But never fear, I’m here to entertain you while you wait, patiently, for the weekend. You can feel it can’t you? It’s right around the corner. Just mere hours away.

This will be a random blog. Some might question if all my blogs aren’t random so how is this different. To those “some” I say what Patron Saint always says. My blog. My rules.

At 8:54 this morning, Creed unceremoniously took over the conf room as “his office”. PMDude and I at the same time, looked up, watched him do it and laughed. Oh I love predictability. At one point we even put on the conf room that it was “Office of the Assistant to the Sales Manager”. And if you don’t watch The Office, you’ll have no idea how funny that is. But laugh anyhow. Come on. Laugh!

The XXXCrush has risen from the depths of darkness again. While he conned me by being all dreamy into driving my car, he’s since went dark and I’ve not heard a peep from him. Then yesterday, I decided to delete all email correspondences with him from my “saved” folder (a girl can never be sure when she might need to pull out an old email for proof). Not 4 minutes (yes four) after I get a long email from the XXXCrush. I of course delayed my response by a couple hours so not to appear like I’m waiting for his email. And he responded again. So now I’m even more confused. First nothing, then two in one day. Never fear I’m not putting all my passion eggs into one basket. I think that basket has a flaw and I might lose an egg or two. I definitely know one of them is cracked.

Any-Hoooo

Thanks to the brilliant feedback from another blogging friend (actually he's a blog friend through a blog friend. It get's very complicated) REAL, I've purchased myself a new lens for my kick ass camera. A Sigma Zoom Super Wide Angle 18-50mm f/2.8 EX DC Macro Autofocus Lens. His pictures are fantastic and very inspiring. He sent me a URL to a friend of his who also takes photos and HIS pictures, as well, got me very inspired. My goal now is to get out and shoot. I'm going to try, very hard, to NOT get all hung up on having the perfect photo, but instead focus (no pun intended) on learning how my camera takes pictures and what settings do to affect the photo.

My Halloween costume is coming along nicely. I've talked Mom into making a pink poncho for me in which we're going to sew a pink boa to the bottom. Then I ordered a beehive pink wig (which is actually the most exciting for me), have flamingo glasses on the way and now just need to find duck-ish feet. As this gets together and I do "test" runs, I'll post some photos. I'm sure everyone will get a laugh.

Pink Flamingo's Rock

Monday's suck. Wine Rocks. Wine makes Monday's not suck.

So, I've been thinking about my Halloween costume for this year's Dudley's Top Ten Worst. Every year I think about dressing up, but time goes by and well, I just give up. Last year, a wee bit toasted, I decided to dress this year. And I very seriously stated I would be a pink flamingo. (Note: for those of you who don't know, I collect flamingos. Not just normal flamingos. No they have to be a bit odd -like me.)

I had this vision in my mind, but have "issues" with regards to my vision. See a costume has to be comfortable, danceable and above all, tres chic. Tonight, I logged into that fun little interweb thing and searched. This is what I've found.

OOOO!!! AHHHH! I'd be one hot bird. And one very pink bird. I do have one small issue. I wonder how the bird's neck would attach to my head...what if my waste to head ratio is off and the stupid thing covers my face instead? (no comments from the peanut gallery please on how that wouldn't be such a bad thing.)

Do you know why pink flamingos are pink? Apparently its due to the shrimpees they eat. Hah!

Hello old friend!

Wow, I never thought that scanning all these negatives (shoosh PMDude) would cause such nostalgia. But it has. Many photos I'm finding it within my heart to delete (all old BF photos. Not as much fun as shredding was, but still fun) and I'm finding I have no remorse over it.


A big special occasion passed by earlier this week and I was remiss in mentioning it. How rude of me! Which might explain the knocking and pinging. But on Tuesday, my baby, the Stang was one year old! One year! Can you believe it? Ahhh, look how beautiful she is.



As I was thinking that I had missed such an important date as the Stang's First year anniversary, I scanned the below picture. Ahhh...DULCNEA #1. The one who stole my heart and how bitter sweet it was to let her go. I loved that car. She was everything a girl could have wanted from a Stang. But sadly, she was totaled out when a stupid teenager hit me from behind. It wasn't a light tap either. I was sitting still and he hit me at 35 mph. The whole back end was crumpled. The impact caused my sunglasses to fly off my head and land in the back window shelf. Good times. Ahhh, how I miss her. She's a beaut ain't she. She'd be 7 in October.




Okay, enough reminiscing. Back to the negatives. (PMDude, I know. I know. You choose to not use the word negative. It's so negative.)

Flight of the Conchords Sello Tape

PMDude and I cannot stop laughing at these guys. Their humor is so brilliant and way too clever. This is my new favorite tune I've found from them.

New Toy Tuesday!

I have a new favorite toy. It's not new new, as in I just got it today. It's been sitting in a box for about 3 months now. But now, today, it's hooked up and *new*. And useful. Very useful.

This year I made a goal to get my photography stuff in order, and begin doing photography again. Getting my stuff in order included purchasing a new fancy pants digital camera. Digital camera's mean 35mm film and all the freaking negatives that come with them are a thing of the past. My past. Only I have about 4 THOUSAND negatives. Sitting, doing nothing but taking up space. I'm not generally a negative keeper, I used to like to throw them away. Then when I needed to find a particular negative for my photography card making days, I couldn't. Thus started the plan...granted this was 7 years ago that this plan was formulating in my big head, but formulating it was.

Now back then, I had no idea what to do with all the negatives, so I did what any Type A personality would. I categorized them, put them in fancy negative page protectors, and organized them by event, year, photography or whatever I felt. I have 10 3" three ring binders bursting at the seams with negatives. I averaged it out tonight. One 3" three ring binder holds approximately 75 page protectors. Each page protector holds 7 rows of negatives. Each row of negatives are 5 negatives. Do the math with me will ya? 75 pages X 35 negatives a page X 10 binders = 26,250 negatives. My God.

So my new toy in order to help me with me newly found ginormous number of negatives is a negative scanner. Can I get a YEEE HAW?

Here's the catch. I couldn't afford, or rather didn't realize, that the one I really wanted scanned an entire 5 strips of negatives (25 at a time). Instead I bought one that only does TWO negatives at a time. Not two strips. Two negatives. Do you know how long I'll be here?

Well, let me tell you. I've averaged it out to be 15 seconds for each 2 negatives. So that's 13,125 negatives (that's 26,250 divided by 2 since I can do 2 at a time). Then 13, 125 times 15 - because that's 15 seconds per 2 negatives, then divided by 60 ( so I can get it in hours) = 3,281.25 hours. Huh? Wait, did I do something wrong...because that equals 136 days.

If my math is right, and I'm sure there's some mathy person out there who will tell me it isn't - please tell me it isn't. It's going to take me 1/3rd of a year to get this done. Ugh.

Now, I guarantee as I'm going through negatives I'll not scan them all. I mean ones of XBF and Evil XBF will have to be shredded. It's the only right thing to do. Photos of myself that are hideous will have to be shredded as well. I suppose I could go as far and shred any photos of friends who have dumped me and moved on to better friends. So basically in the end I have - well a few less.

Monday is an awful way to spend 1/7th of your life.

"A Monday by any other name, still sucks. "

"Sounds like someone has a case of the Mondays… ~ secretary, Office Space"

"Monday is the root of all evil."

"I’ve come to the conclusion that Mondays last 50% longer than the other day." ~ Turtle Dundee

Yes, boys and girls, it's been a dooosey of a Monday. Why can't people at work just do what I tell them to and stop questioning my authority? I am, after all, their PM and as such should hold a certain amount of "I know what I'm talking about" and yet, I get nothing. I won't, and can't, go into specifics, but suffice it to say, everyone seems to be pissing me off today.

The weekend however started off with one helluva Dudley concert. I know. I know...I say that every time. I have two very good reasons for saying it every time though: 1) Clearly I forget how great the last concert was and so think the most recent concert Rocks the casbah and 2) I just think all of their shows are awesome. This one was particularly fun because they opened as their country cousins the Sh*tKickers. Good friend, Hiker Girl (Margo - you now have a code name. You should feel so proud) wasn't so sure about the SKs as she's not a country fan, but once they did a Billy Joel song country style, she was hooked. She and I continued to dance the night away when DMQ took the stage. Blueberry became somewhat of a wetblanket after the second set, so I did my best to ignore her and continue to make googly eyes at Mr. DMQ himself. Though my "googly eyes" might have also been construed as "drunk girl in the front row." Though I wasn't for a change. Hiker Girl on the other hand, continued to make googley eyes at the bass player and the young lead guitar guy ( who's quickly stealing my heart away from Mr. DMQ).

We started Friday evening at a kickass restaurant I found quite on accident in Seattle. I wanted something close to the Crocodile - where the show was, but didn't want something "normal". Found Assiago's. The guy (Mauro) hugging the patron on the website is the owner. He stopped by our table several times to check on us girls. AND he recommended the best bottle of wine. It was a 2003 Montepulciano (OnePath - you should find yourself a bottle of this. I think you would like it.). The wetblanket didn't have any wine, so Hiker Girl and I polished off the bottle. The food was sensational, flavorful, and just the right portions so not to fill stuffed. I highly recommend it if you're ever in Seattle looking for fantastic Italian cuisine.

Okay, I've stalled long enough. Back to Monday.

NY - One Year Later

It's hard to believe that exactly one year ago I was wondering the avenues of Manhattan. Oogling and Aggling at all the wonders that are NYC. An amazing place really. And 200+ photos later...I finally...finally finished the NY Scrapbook.

Scrapbooking has been very hot and cold for me lately (much like a certain relationship with a certain XCrush). I will go months without even thinking about doing anything creative. Then one day I get a wild twig up my butt and I sit down until whatever project is done. In this case, it started with wanting to scrap the Westport trip. That led into NY and wanting to finish that trip.

So without any further lollygagging. Here are some of the highlights. (Note: Bad lighting and shotty photography has made the colors off. Trust me though, they are color coordinated.)

I'm eating my veggie's

Another one of those, "who cares" blogs brought to you by Yours Truly. As Patron Saint says so often: My blog. My rules.

My new favorite snack. Veggie Stix. I bought them on a whim since I was in the Organic Food aisle at our local grocery store. Not an aisle I generally frequent, but the organic milk was down that aisle and I had to buy that for the tea I'm drinking these days because local brit only drinks organic. And...so... naturally, I turned to see their snacks. There's sitting all "buy me" like were Veggie Stix.

I recalled having them while being held captive at The Cat Shack many years ago. We had a lot of vegetarian/vegan types there. They're sooo good. Crunchy. Tasty. Flavorful. Yum in a bag.

The best part about them though, and here in lies the real truth, is they are UBBER loud when eating. See they're very crunchy. And I'm hoping that it annoys the hell out of a Creed (name was changed to protect the annoying. AND I don't want to be sued should he claim slander.) See, Creed chews very loud. It's especially fun when we're having a team lunch in the conf room and PMDude mentions with a look the "cow chewing" sound from across the table. AND Creed loves to smack his gum whenever he's in your space. Ugh.

And so with PMDude working from home today. I figured this an excellent opportunity to bug Creed. Chances are he's completely oblivious to my annoyance attempts. But who cares...I'm satisfied just knowing he "might" be bugged. And the Veggie Stix are satisfying my need for a snack.

Flight Of The Conchords - The Humans Are Dead

OMG. Local Brit in the office shared this today. I must have too much tea in my system, I thought this was pretty funny.

I'm a Ramblin' Man - er ah woman...

Is it just me, or does everyone have gnomes who visit their desk at work at night and tangle up your headset chord? I swear to you, I wrap mine a certain way to avoid tangle-age. And yet, every morning, they are tied in a series of knots that would make an experience boat person confused.

The weekend was mostly non-eventful. I got home Friday and proceeded to die a slow death on the couch with the remote in my hand. Had it not been for the drooling I might not have realized I was comatose.

Saturday I did the Seattle tour guide thing with a colleague here from the UK. It dawned on me that if you're not actually taking pictures or buying something, some Seattle hot spots just aren't that interesting. But whatever, we had fun.

I've mentioned in previous posts that I've crossed over the dark side and am drinking tea instead of coffee at work these days. I saved myself $20 last week alone by not buying coffee. PMDude had mentioned to me a while back about amazing coffee he makes with his French Press and so I broke down this weekend and bought a press. I have a coffee pot, but it usually makes too much coffee. Yes I realize I am the person responsible for telling the coffee pot how much to make. But you see, I can only make a good cup if I make 6 cups, of which I thrown 4 out. Its a waste. So Saturday I followed my directions carefully and made myself a cup of coffee. I can see how this could be good coffee someday. But for now, we'll just say it's a work in progress. "Watch this space" for the day it becomes amazing coffee.

I Just Called to say. "I Love You!"

Okay Okay, I hear ya loud and clear. I just need the time and place to do it. BTW - I won't be telling him I love him because that might be a wee bit premature. I'm just saying. I mean after all, I haven't even kissed him. And we all know the kiss is the tell tale (or is it tale tell) sign.

My favorite suggestion came to me via email from The Chicken Lady. I spit my tea out (Note: I have left the dark side of coffee momentarily for the even darker side of Tea. Since my trip across the pond I have now found myself addicted to making tea. It's a sickness, really. And in fact have passed up - if you can believe it - trips to Starbucks in liu of tea. PMDude suggested the world might be ending considering this drastic shift in my daily actions.)

Chicken Lady's suggestion: Ask him over for a sleepover and tell him you do NOT have a futon.

Any Hoooo....

While all of you left excellent suggestions, I believe my days of dreaming that he "accidentally" finds out are over. I have attempted to set up a dinner "date" with him, but got the oddest response. None. I really don't understand this guy sometimes. But whatever. He's responded to a few other of my emails (and that's not to say I've sent a hundred, only 98 or so - joking. That's a joke. Laugh people!)

I'm moving on from this for this week - and the crowd in unison breathes a sighs in relief - to something even mo' better....SeaFair weekend. Some colleagues from the UK office are in town, and I offered to be a tour guide for one of them. What? I'd do it for you too if you came to town. I love showing off Seattle. It'd be even better if it were nice out, but what's a girl to do.

And in other news, and perhaps no one really cares, but why is it that we, in the great country, only concern ourselves with the safety of people when a tragedy happens? Why then is that the time we start looking at the relevance of structural damage? Are human lives that unimportant to our government?

I am, of course, talking about the tragedy in Minnesota. The local news here, and perhaps in your neck of the woods, is now examining just how bad our local bridges are. The thing is, we've known some of them are ready to fall at any given moment and yet NOW, now that people have lost their lives, they're starting to take it seriously.

Case in point. We have a very old, decaying structure here in Seattle that was severely damaged in the "GREAT QUAKE OF 2001". Since that time, the tax payers of this area have paid out hundreds of thousands of dollars for studies to determine if the Alaskan Way Viaduct will fall (see photo to the right. It's the road looking thingy in front of Seattle) Frankly, any moron who's every been on it can tell it you will fall. Newton figured that out with this little thing called gravity. The key is, when and how. So, since the quake, our government has studied over and over again how bad it is. THEN, in typical Seattle government fashion, they decided to put the replacement options up for a vote. Two options, tear down the existing viaduct and rebuild it (oh and I should mention the viaduct is on the Seattle waterfront which is prime real estate)? Or build a tunnel? Of the two, the tunnel was EXTREMELY expensive.

Now, when the debate over which option to build was going on, of course, the opposition of each found "holes" in the theories for the options of the others. For example the people opposing the tunnel idea found case studies (less we mention the Boston Big Dig) in which the seawalls aren't sturdy enough and so could cause a cave in.

So, they put it to the voters. BUT, before they did, the government said the tunnel option isn't an option. But voters, please go to the polls and vote on which option you want: tunnel or viaduct.

Yes. You read that correctly. Even before the vote, they had already determined that the tunnel was not an option. So you ask yourself, why then, have we spent over a million dollars having a vote that doesn't count?

ARGH!

My point to all this, is - yes, there is a point, I'm only going the girly route to get there. That is to say not the direct route. I heard on the radio today a theory that the government could be just waiting for the thing to fall, loss of life would ensue of course because these things never EVER fall when no one's on them. And so the federal government would then chip in the money to replace it. I felt a chill go down my spine. Could our local government be that devious? To offer up as a sacrifice to the asphalt gods, lives of innocent people who just want to get to work on time? The thought scares me, but doesn't surprise me.

Ways to Say I like you

I was having dinner tonight with long time friends Chicken Lady and Blueberry (names have been changed to protect the "innocent".) and we all decided it was time for me to bite the bullet and tell the crush I like him. I know. I know. Many of you, and by many I mean EVERYONE, has told me I need to make the first move. But you see, I'm a girl, if you haven't noticed, trust me I am. And I kinda like the idea of the guy making the first move. That being said, I think if I don't make any move, nothing will happen. I mean, my god it's been 1.5 years since the crush started...then it stopped...then it started again.

So here are a few suggestions I've received:

1. Have a friend email him or post a comment to his blog. What would the comment or email say? "JENN LIKES YOU."
Pro: It gets the point across real quick, no minced words.
Con: It's high school all over. "Hey Vicky, will you pass this note to Mike in gym class? I really like him and can't get up any nerve to be anywhere near him. Thanks."

2. Chicken lady suggested a visit to her parlor ( she provides a service to people and it's not what you're thinking you dirty minded lot) by a free gift certificate for "friends" of mine. While there, she could casually say, "JENN REALLY REALLY LIKES YOU."
Pros: He'd be relaxed and the point would get across to him.
Cons: See #1

3. Send a carrier pigeon with a note that reads, "JENN REALLY REALLY LIKES YOU."
Pros: Carrier pigeons are probably cheap.
Cons: Said carrier pigeon could poop on him, and that would be bad.

4. Send an email that says, "JENN REALLY REALLY LIKES YOU."
Pros: It would definitely get the point across in a simple, efficient manner. I'd be much more confident in the written word, than in person.
Cons: If I misspelled a word it could change the entire meaning and he'd be even more confused...let's just say I misspelled "like" to "licks". I'm just saying.... AND... its the coward way out.

5. Singing telegram: How would that jingle sound exactly?
Pros: He's likely never received a singing telegram before
Cons: A singing telegram...I need to get a grip.

6. Find a song that says what I'm feeling and send it to him on a CD.
Pros: He likes music
Cons: There are so many I can't even begin, the least of which I'm jolted back to college in which Evil X boyfriend sent me a "song" after I broke up with him. What song? Well, the first line goes something like this, "Shot through the heart and you're to blame...you give love...a bad name." So while I do know of a song that would fit this situation perfection there are two issues with it. 1) its country and he hates country and 2) it's country.

7. Send a e-card. I do have one in mind and it would be cute and it would say, "JENN REALLY REALLY LIKES YOU."
Pro: It's cute and funny. To view it click here. Second Row. First card titled "Go Out with Me."
Con: It's not any different than sending an email.

8. Or I can send him a link to a this.
Pros: Again, there'd be no questions
Cons: The guy is a wee bit creepy.

While all these are fantastic ideas, I think the end result is I'm going to have to put on my brave mask and just do it. I mean, what's the worst thing that could happen. He could just say he wants to be friends. Well, actually the worst thing that could happen is he could go running from the room screaming, but I doubt he'd do that.

Any other suggestions?

A weekend with a crush...

All Photos Posted on Flickr

Oliver Wendell Holms said, "Without wearing any mask we are conscious of, we have a special face for each friend."

I discovered this weekend that I too have several masks that I wear. My favorite is smart, chic, charismatic girl. That mask, didn't make the trip. Instead, dopey, sassy, nervous talking girl mask made the trip. And maybe it wasn't as bad as I think it was, but there were times I remember saying to myself (actually there were MANY times) "Stop talking. Just stop talking."

The Crush has now found himself, even though he is unaware of his position, fully planted in my house of Crushness. If I wasn't sure why I had a crush on him before I was reminded this weekend. It's not his looks. Its not really anything physical about him. It's really his kind and giving heart and his extreme intelligence that has solidified his position in my not so secure heart. He has a smile that can charm a snake - not that I'm saying I'm a snake, but I was charmed by it. Oh, never mind. Bad example.

I digress.

We departed on Friday much later than planned and hit the ferry dock at 4pm. We waited for about an hour for the ferry, and we were off. Sitting in the ferry line the talk was simple, pleasant, and unassuming. Inside I was freaking out like a mad woman wondering how on earth I was going to make it through the weekend and not show my "human" side. Then suddenly like a weeping willow branch smacking me aside my face it dawned on me, "Perhaps your "human" side isn't so bad. Let him see you." Then suddenly my anxiety was gone. I felt better about just being me. I mean, people generally like me, a few who will remain nameless don't, but overall, I think I'm a good, down to earth, somewhat entertaining and enjoyable person. And clearly he's seen part of that or else he wouldn't have agreed to go on a weekend trip with me. He had ample opportunities to back down and/or change his mind. A weekend is a lifetime if you're with someone you don't like.

Now, where was I...oh yes. The Crush....

The Crush had two jobs for this trip: music and navigation. He told me earlier in the week to not concern myself with how we'd get there, he'd take care of it. And he told me I didn't need to worry about music as he'd bring a lot of his - which is really his way of saying, "No really, let me bring the GOOD music." His "taking care of navigation" meant all major freeways were to be avoided if at all possible. His "taking care of music" meant I got an opportunity to hear a ton of music I normally wouldn't ever listened to. I don't remember any of it, but I do remember that I liked what he brought. He seemed to have put significant thought into what I might or might not like since several times he mentioned out of his 1000 CDs he had to think about what might stretch my music taste and what would already fit into it.

Once on the other side, we stopped and had dinner at a nice little Crepe shop. The Crush had been there before and recommended it. The crepes were delicious and a perfect amount of food to not make me fall asleep on the drive.

As we crept closer to our destination, I got a bit more anxious about the possibility of having to share a VERY small bed with the Crush. Not that I thought anything would happen (a girl can hope though) but just the logistics and weird-ness of sharing a fairly intimate location with someone you don't know all that well. As it turned out, the hotel room had a futon and a bed. Which is good, because the double bed was pushed up against a wall, which meant one of us would have been stuck inside. Whew. Got out of that one.

Westport Washington is a quaint little, and by little I mean wittle town. Tiny actually. We had seen all of Westport by Saturday noon, and we started about 10. We ate breakfast at a fun little cafe called Barbara's in the Marina district of Westport. Good food, and decent price. The waitress amused me greatly because we were "hun" and "dear" to her. "Finished with that plate dear?" "More coffee huh?" Loved it. The charm of a small coastal town.

After Barbara's breakfast we wondered through the rest of "main" street and down to the beach. Long, sandy beaches, but not in the tropical sense, just beautiful. And the sound...I had forgotten at how loud wave crashing on the shore could be.

Back through town I made the Crush stop in a little shop so I could pick up some salt water taffy. You can't go into a coastal town and not buy taffy...I mean really. He didn't seem all that excited about the taffy until I pointed out cinnamon ones. All of which he ate.

We wondered our way to try to find the Westport Lighthouse. According to the map it was at the state park. We drove to the park. Walked to the beach. Nothing. Looked south...nothing. Looked north...nothing. Bewildered as to why the lighthouse wasn't on the beach, we turned to leave. As we left, the Crush noticed the lighthouse inland. Odd. But then again, this was Westport and things were seeming more odd than they should here.

The lighthouse is supposedly the tallest in Washington. It stands at 107 feet tall. I like lighthouses, but wasn't overly impressed with this one. Seemed out of place in the middle of the wooded area instead of on the beach.

We drove into Aberdeen to see a movie later that afternoon. We went to the "mall" in Aberdeen. And I use the word "mall" loosely. It had a JC Penny's, a Sears and a cinema from what I could tell. Inside by the cinema was a "food court" that consisted of a Dairy Queen and a Blimpie subs...that's it. And the food court was closed by the time we got out of the movie around 6:30. Weird. From there we drove to Ocean Shores to check out this little town.

Ocean Shores is on the other side of Gray's Harbor from Westport. Once there we noticed several hundred Harley riders. Great. A Harley festival in town. Scary lot they are. Though most of them were likely mid 40's and wore a suit and tie during the week. We drove through to the beach - I should mention here that at this point the Crush is driving the Mustang. Not just anyone gets to drive the 'stang, so you know this is serious right? - There were roads in Ocean Shores that literally allow you to drive onto the beach. We took one of these roads, and I cautioned the Crush about getting the car stuck. His response was, "Well I can always take a bus back, but the captain goes down with the ship." Traitor!

Sunday we headed back. Instead of heading straight back we decided to drive up the coast a bit to Moclips and Pacific Beach. From there we drove up Hood Canal which had Hwy 101 directly on the shore. It was beautiful country.

Our drive home took longer than planned and we ended up taking the Bainbridge Ferry back instead of the one we took to the coast. Once we crossed the water, and were back in Seattle, I mentioned that I was getting hungry (it was, after all 8:30PM) and asked if he wanted to have dinner. I figured he'd say, "Nah, I'm kinda tired, let's just head home." But instead, he said very enthusiastically,"Yah let's!" He rambled off a few options, but we couldn't decide. Finally I said, "Pick the first restaurant that comes to mind." His response was Serafina. Delish. I hadn't been to Serafina in forever. A bit more pricey than I think we had planned, but it was well worth it.

So, I know you're all wondering, what now? And frankly I don't know. I do know that I felt on several occasions during the week that he wanted to talk to me about something but didn't know where to start, or how to start. I'd catch him watching me every now and then and the look he had wasn't one of disgust...but more like he was trying to decide what to do. I do know that we had a fantastic time. The conversations we had were natural and (for me) educational in many ways.

So, with that my weekend ended. I'm exhausted, but am so glad to have gone. It'll be a memory I'll put in the "must be remembered" box. In the end, I think I have found, at the minimum, a good friend for a lifetime.

I must be predisposed to stupidity

I'm sure it's not just me, but there are days I feel like I am the only idiot out there. (No comments from the peanut gallery please).

Some of my long time readers know of the Crush, who then became the XCrush. Well the XCrush is possibly back to being a Crush (insert my predisposition to stupidity here). If I could figure out why I'm so attracted to this guy I could possibly counter any and all feelings by logic, which as you all are aware, logic has nothing to do with feelings and relationships.

But I digress...let me tell you a story. Sit back. Get a beer. It might be a long one. And anyone who thinks they don't need to know such details about me (sister, daughter, co-worker, friend) stop reading. Spoilers ahead!

If one were to search on the word "crush" in my blog, one would be surprised how much I use that word. Mind you not all related to the actual crush, many related to DMQ - coincidence?

So I've liked this guy for WAY too long and have always been a pansy about saying anything. It was far better, in my mind, to not say anything and live in this fantasy world of "what if". I know logically it's a silly place to be, but fun none the less. Anyhow, I met the Crush in a PM class and never got up enough nerve to actually talk to him. So I suppose I didn't really "meet" him, I was attracted to him from afar - which happens frequently in my life. The class ended and I assumed so did any chance of me getting to know him. Then he showed up again in my life in a capacity that allowed for me to "get to know" him. Then through the past year and a half I've been "getting to know" him.

Yes, read that sentence again YEAR AND A HALF. I've flirted - apparently now well enough and have made it somewhat know of my interest by merely inviting him to do things - which he's done on several occasions. So he must enjoy my company at the very least, right?

Fast forward to the beginning of this summer. I had mentioned last year the possibility of going to Westport for a "get out of dodge" adventure to take the Mustang on. Last summer didn't work out for various reasons I'm not compelled to bore you with. This summer, we made a plan. We talked and we decided on a weekend, in which I thought meant a day. This is where the Men are From Mars theory proves itself once again. I (Venus) was thinking day trip, he (Mars) was thinking weekend trip.

So weekend trip is it.

I started calling places to stay and in short order determined that the "beach" during the summer is a very difficult place to get any reservations. My main concern was sleeping arrangements. I didn't want to assume one bed. While I'd be fine with that - I didn't want to presume that he would be fine with that. And my desire for two beds guaranteed, at least a little, that I'd get more sleep than if I were in one bed. NOT for the reason you filthy minded people are thinking (my mother reads this for heaven's sake - although she'd be likely to root me on...) but more for my anxiety of spending time, in a bed, with a boy whom I like...I mean he'd see my human" side not my "girly - well prepared - well put together" side of which he is accustomed to seeing now. The cook, the hostess, the girl who can project manage.

And so, I searched for a two bed scenario. After calling about 20 hotels I was left with a small option. And by small, I mean small.

And so we reach my situation. Mildly amusing for many, not so amusing for me. I have reserved a room at a hotel in which the only room available has a long double bed. What does that mean? It means a bed the width of a double, length of a queen. Do any of you see my dilemma? I WILL BE STAYING in a very small bed with a guy I like! A double bed? My cat's bed is bigger than a double bed. Oh the horror!

For those "friends" out there who have provided me with your advice, I thank you...I think. I won't bore you with the details, just suffice it to say I'm only considering a small portion of said advice since the rest of the advice is, well, race-y. For those who have not participated in the advice giving, please do feel free to leave any if you feel so inclined.

And in case you're wondering, I'm only on chapter 10 of HP. I did, however, read the last chapter. What? I can't help it! I told you, I'm predisposed to stupidity.

Do Not Disturb! I have a date!

Please don't think I'm ignoring you. It's just that I'm busy. Be back in a few days. I am currently on a date with Harry Potter. It'll be our last date, but one in which I intend to take full advantage of. I'm sure I won't be as innocent after this date as I was before. I'm just saying.

"Surely you can't be serious.I am serious and don't call me Shirley."

12:01AM - July 20
We have luggage. The significance of the time stamp above is the time they delivered the luggage. Let me walk you through the experience.

Me: ZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ

Them: BANG BANG Knock Knock

Me: "Pookie, someone's at the door."

Pookie: "So get up and get it, I am the King and I don't have opposable thumbs. And while you're up...feed me" ( Pookie didn't really say that, but I imagined that's what he would have said if he could talk.)

Me: ZZZZZZZZZZZZZ - stumble trip ... unlock door

Them: Luggage?

(At this point its important to point out two things to you. 1) My sarcastic button was apparently switched off because this morning I can think of a hundred ways to answer this kid and 2) The Kid delivering the luggage couldn't have been more than 12 and certainly didn't know any English words other than "luggage" since he repeated it three times.

Me: (waking a bit and realize this kid has my LUGGAGE) Like a giddy teenager in a high pitch squeal I say, "YAY!"

Everything is accounted for. Though it looked like someone ransacked the bag. I'm a very neat packer (its a talent I possess). What appeared to me wasn't neat.

Lost Luggage

No, the luggage hasn't arrived yet. But I have hope. In the meantime, friend Margo sent this to me to cheer me up.