Lyda Morehouse's Blog, page 89

SnOMG

I have to keep this short today since Mason is anxious to get home (and he's off because the public schools declared a snow day), but I just want to let people know that the Morehouse/Rounds household is mostly unburied after the blizzard of the century on Saturday. We have drifts in our backyard that are over my hips. Granted, given my height, that may not seem impressive, but, trust me, it is.

The biggest hassle involved moving my car Sunday morning. My street is a nightplow street, which means that we can stay in front of our house in the evening (after 9pm), but have to switch to the opposite side (by 8 am.) I knew that it would take time to shovel to the car and then unbury the car, so I got myself out of bed at 6 am. It took me nearly an hour to clear the sidewalk, and a half hour to get the car out from the giant ridge that the snow plow left in its wake. Even more of a hassle was actually trying to find a place to park once I achieved freedom. We had a lot of snowbirds, so there wasn't a lot of free space. But, thanks to a neighbor who came out and edged his car forward just enough for my butt to make it in, I did it. All before the 8 am deadline.

And then the plows never made it.

After coming back from our nunchuck/sang jool bong seminar at kuk sool wan, Shawn said that St. Paul had declared a second snow emergency. So, even though the plows never cleared our side of the street, we had to move the car back into the snow drifts. NOT COOL! But, I did not want to get ticketed or, goddess forbid, towed, so I jammed our car into a spot that didn't have drifts that were too hard to get in or out of. I TRIED to call the snow emergency complaint line, but we couldn't get through despite waiting for over an hour on hold.

I have a feeling this had happened to a lot of people.

As for nunchucks, Mason, believe it or not, was not that into them. I, however, left kuk sool wan thinking, "I know KUNG-FU!"

What I Really, Really Want is...?

I have a lot of things I need to do today. We have some friends coming over for dinner tonight and I need to go home at some point and start bread, clean the house, take out the garbage, etc., etc. But I don't feel like doing any of that. In fact, I don't really feel like doing much of anything.

Maybe it's the week's crazy finally catching up with me. All the walking and running around after the car, and now I just feel like BLAH. Or maybe I'm just tired because we had Wyrdsmiths last night, and I stayed up past my bedtime. I'm not sure. It may also be that I'm bummed because I couldn't do a favor for a friend of mine. Or, because I think I really just want to give in to my cheesy side project and never write about vampires again.

Yesterday, as I was leaving Wyrdsmiths I was talking to swords_and_pens about tubes for my gerbils (long story), and I realized that I'm really not from around here.

Let me explain. As I've mentioned before, I'm changed my coffee shop. For many, many years, I did all my morning hanging out/writing/Interneting at a coffeehouse on Grand and Milton in St. Paul, Amore Coffee. For various reasons, including the fact that a lot of the staff that I knew over the years were either fired or quit, I decided to start coming to this place on Hoyt and Hamline called the The Coffee Grounds. (Biggest reason for switch, though, the power of the internet connection here. It's phenomenal.) At any rate, I've been coming here fairly regularly for a couple of months now, and I'm on a first name basis with most of the baristas. To me, this seems perfectly natural.

But while talking to swords_and_pens and later when relating this to Shawn, I realized that I'm FAR more friendly/outgoing/extroverted than the average Minnesotan bear. I'm not making a judgement about this; I'm just coming to realize the extent of this part of my personality. A dear friend of mine once told me at a party that he assumed I was from New York the way I act, although he was also recounting a rather infamous listserv incident that involved me saying that "Star Trek was a bunch of NAZIs."

I don't know. I guess for me, part of it is that I can't hang out at a place and not talk to people. This is actually why I don't get a lot of writing done at coffee shops. I tend to see coffeehouses as the American equivalent of one's local pub. You CAN just go there and have a drink, but, you know, it's where everyone is...

Anyway, enough stalling. I must go get groceries and begin my etc., etc.

Life, Uninterrupted.

It's so incredibly awesome to have my life back. The driver's side break still squeaks a bit, but I've decided to let it try to work itself out for now. If it gets worse, I'll take it back to the shop on Monday. But, I just want to have my life back -- my morning routines! Coffee before 10 am! Sitting on my butt and writing to you or working on my various projects! Especially since I finally feel like writing...

...although not on the novel I'm contracted to write, of course.

Though, yesterday, when talking about what I WANT to write to naomikritzer and Eleanor, I decided I should re-read the beginning of ALMOST #3 and it doesn't suck as much as I was feeling it did. But, man, the new project is shiney! And science fiction!

I think I may have to do the whole carrot and stick thing. Tell myself I must write a 1,000 words on ALMOST#3 before I open the fun project up. This might work. I've never successfully multi-tasked a creative project before, but there's always a first time, right?

Anyway, I didn't end up going to kuk sool wan last night. Mason and I were pretty pooped after two days in a row, so we decided we're going to go tonight. Even though my shins are sore from walking so much in the past few days, I'm looking forward to it.

In other critical news, I need stamps. I am behind on letters to my pen pals because I ran out of stamps and haven't been to the post office to pick up more! Bad me!

Oops, She Did it Again!

The car is, once again, in the shop. I picked it up yesterday and got the new tire put on only to get about four miles before the breaks started squeaking. I decided I couldn't cope any more yesterday. So, after dropping everyone off where they needed to be today, I took it back. Today, I'm holed up at Shish Cafe on Grand, waiting for YET ANOTHER call from the [major swear word used as an adjective] mechanic!!!

I have to admit, too, that my patience is starting to wear thin. I was really VERY chipper yesterday. I think part of it has to do with expectations. I knew yesterday was shot. I expected to have to do a lot of walking and waiting and generally making do. Today, I was expecting to go back to my usual routines.

Or at least have a cup of [major swear word used as an adjective] coffee before 10 [ditto] a.m.!!!

However, it still could be worse. At least no one seems to mind me occupying a booth here at Shish, and the mechanic is supposed to get to my car first thing. Even if they don't call soon, I think I'll walk down there in a couple minutes and harrass them. I would really, really like to NOT waste another whole day on this stupid thing if I don't have to.

I also want to tell you about my private lesson at kuk sool wan. It was cool. Probably the biggest thing that stuck with me is that jo kyo nim (that's a title, but I learned to call her that before I learned her name, so Nicki JKN will always just be just "jo kyo nim" to me) asked me to consider WHY I decided to take kuk sool wan. I told her I knew. I take it because it's fun. I take it because I want to be Kung-Fu Panda, or Jackie Chan, or Jet Li or me just-a-bit-cooler. I also take it because when I wake up in the morning my back doesn't ache and my knee feels stronger, but MOSTLY because it's fun. She seemed to think I might get frustrated at some point, but I don't know that I will. I don't really CARE if I can do a cartwheel or fall like a pro, I really, REALLY enjoy _trying_. My definition of "fun" is a LOT broader than most people's. I find it fun to walk there with Mason and look up at the stars and listen to him tell me what he thinks of the sunset or the cloud shapes. I find it fun to waddle around in my black uniform looking like a big, black ball. I find the excersices fun. I like to watch other people do the cool stuff. Pretty much fun is showing up.

I wanted to explain to her that I find writing fun, and it's actually a whole [swear word as noun]-load of hard work. It also requires discpline and self-motivation, but I would NEVER have made it as a professional writer if the fire wasn't in my belly, and the FIRE for me is that, even on its worst days, I find writing fun.

So, too kuk sool wan.

Well, I'm going to go check on my car. Wish me luck.

Carless Living

I'm not used to living without a car.

A friend was able to pick up Mason and bring him home from school, but he didn't get back to me to tell me he could until I was already on the city bus. I'm glad Jason called me back when he did, because even though I left an hour before I was supposed to pick Mason up, I wouldn't have made it in time. I forgot how slow buses can be and how much time you need to build into arrival times.

Though, I have to say, city buses are much quieter than I expected/remembered. When I last rode the bus regularly, cell phones were just starting to be a common part of daily life. People used to spend a lot of time shouting into their phones. Now, people seem to text more, and it was much less noisy. But, I was just as happy to bail at Lexington and hoof my way back home down University.

We went off to kuk sol wan afterward, and I was really, really tired by bedtime, what with all the walking and running around.

Today, we got up early and I ordered a taxi. Let me recommend City Wide Taxi to you. The cabs are clean, the drivers are friendly, and there always seems to be someone available. (Oh, AND they take credit cards!) We dropped Mama off at the History Center and then Mason and I got off at Crossroads. I got him to class, and I started walking to University down Dale. At University I caught the 16, and then realized that it was almost 10 am and I hadn't had any coffee yet. I decided to bail at the Border's on University.

I forgot that they don't open until 10 am, so I ended up having to stand around outside for a while. I took the opportunity to check on the car, which the shop said would be going for a test drive and then be done. That made me incredibly pleased. They ended up having to do a lot, so I knew the bill was going to be steep, but I've needed new front breaks for a while. I had them do the breaks, struts and the springy-thing that came loose and started all this trauma.

As I was waiting to get in to Borders for my coffee, a guy struck up a conversation with me. We'll call him Orange Wolverine, because he was one of those guys who kind of over shares but is really quite harmless. He and I talked about places to buy cheap shoes and what we liked about Borders, and out of the blue he pointed to the purple tinsel Christmas tree in the window and told me he thought that purple matched my personality. Skeptically, I asked, "Is that a good thing?" Then he went on at great length about how awesome I was. Seriously. It was weirdly flattering to have a stranger tell me that I was confident and smart and personality-plus, without being arrogant. Then, he told me that he was "orange." I said I thought that was a good, solid, strong color, but he said that he thought of it as changeable – strong, but also laid back. I could see it. Then, the door opened and he followed me like an attachment upstairs to the café. I ordered a mocha and he bought me a piece of coffee cake, which I let him do, because even though he had the vibe of being a lost puppy that had just attached himself to me for life, I decided that kindness was kindness even if it was a bit un-Minnesotan.

When the Border's barista asked if he had a Border's membership he said his email account was wolverine-something at yahoo. So, I asked him he chose it for the superhero or a sports team. He said, "Neither, for the animal," and then began to wax on about wolverines and grizzly bears, engaging another woman in the queue in our conversation. I shook hands goodbye and began the long trek to Sinclair on Wheeler and Grand.

As I headed to Summit, I passed a much crazier African-American lady, who had the classic luggage/shopping carts, paced the sidewalk, shouting loudly to no one in particular. She ACTUALLY said, "You need to hop on to the satellite and turn off the police frequency!" I just nodded and said, "Yes, ma'am, right away."

I had to smile, though. I mean: what a classic "city" experience! If there had been more than just me on the street, it could have been New York instead of St. Paul.

A half hour later, I walked into the repair shop and paid a zillion dollars to retrieve my car. Now I'm sitting ONCE AGAIN at the Discount Tire place waiting for the guys to put on a new – FREE - tire. Actually, I had to pay 16 bucks because they had to special order it, or its mounting, but that's still a good deal.

And, man, am I happy not to be walking everywhere any more. Although, I have to say that I really enjoy a good, long walk, even in these temperatures. The sun was really bright and shiny today and I used the time to talk to myself and daydream and tell myself the sorts of stories I used to tell myself when I walked around all the time.

Speaking of stories, I had Shawn Netflix "Spartacus: Sand and Blood" for me. I have a completely unhealthy interest in gladiators, and it sounded like this cable show was exactly the kind of soft porn trash I was looking for. I have to say, I was disappointed. Shawn and I made it through the first three episodes. But, the third episode, "Legends" promises to be something it isn't quite. What I want from my gladiator porn is awesome arena battles where the underdog rises up and flips off the establishment by winning over the sympathy of the crowd. This episode started down that road. Spartacus (not, it turns out, the real one) starts using his brains to get ahead in the gladiator school. He starts tricking the other gladiators into injuring themselves so he can move up in rank. He even does a clever ploy to earn crowd favor at a party intended to get patrons for the big battle. Thus, I got hopeful that he would use this sort of clever thinking to his advantage in the arena.

Let's just say, it _so_ didn't happen. In fact, despite his awesome name, Spartacus was a total DUD in the arena. My fantasies are better, alas. Plus, I'd have better sex scenes. What's the point of being in Rome without any boy on boy action?

"Spartacus" will return to Netflix unfinished. Sads.

One thing I'm really looking forward to tonight is a private lesson at kuk sul wan. They have a deal where if you walk (or ride the bus/bike) six times to lessons, you can get one free personal training session. Mason and I live so close that it's a crime to drive. So we've already earned our free private lesson. I have no idea what they'll do with us, but it's sure to be fun. Best birthday present EVA!

My battery is running down and they're sure to be done with my car soon, so I'll sign off for now. Hope you're all having a wonderful day full of crazy people like I am!

But, Wait There's MORE...

...so the tire guy calls very apologetically and explains that actually that CAN'T put a new tire on. Why? Because the car is actually BROKEN. Apparently, the reason I got a flat is because something called something like "a tire spring" broke and poked my tire. So the tire guys had to put the spare back on and I drove (very carefully) to my mechanic.

I used to love my mechanic. I go to a place on Grand called Sinclair (on Wheeler, there are two). It's a great place. I don't ever feel like they rip me off. HOWEVER, it used be owned by this guy named Ben. He was great. Always a bit surly like you kind of expect a mechanic who perfers cars to people to be, but young and sarcastic in a way I could relate to -- as much as I'm going to when we have nothing else in common outside of my car. He had a family and may still own the place, but he doesn't manage it any more. He left the place to his much surlier companions, who are much less young and sarcastic so it's a little less fun trying to communicate with them. They still do great work, but the experience has gone down a notch, you know?

Anyway, they probably won't get to the car until tomorrow. Now I get the added joy of taking the bus to pick up Mason and probably calling a taxi to take us home in time to get off to karate tonight.

Glee.

Weekend from Heck... Kind of

This weekend defined the Minnesotan phrase, "Could be worse," for me. Because, although a lot of crazy stuff happened, things worked out pretty well in the end.

Okay, so we had a birthday party on Saturday. Actually, we had two, but Mason had accepted an invitation to Ava's first and, after much discussion and some gnashing of teeth, we decided fair was fair. Rather than try to zip across town and attend both of them for half the time, we would commit to the first one. I'm glad we made this decision, painful though it was.

Right near the end of Ava's party, when we would have been on route to Donte's, Shawn called. She'd fallen down the stairs. She didn't want me to worry, but she'd twisted her ankle pretty badly and… uh, oh, it was swelling up a little.

As soon as I heard that last part, I wanted to come home right away, but Shawn insisted we see the party through to the end. So we stayed another half hour or so, and then made a quick grocery stop. Once I saw her foot, however, I told her we needed to go to the emergency room. The nurse line had told her that she could probably wait and go into Urgent Care on Sunday to get an x-ray, but that they didn't have anyone on staff that was qualified to set bones if need be until Monday. I said, "Forget about that, you've got insurance. We're going to United's Emergency Room."

I knew it was a snowy Saturday, and that we might have to wait for hours, so I brought along snacks, books, etc. Mason and I dropped Shawn off at the entrance and parked in the Red Ramp. By the time we got to the waiting room, she was already going through admissions. We hardly sat down to enjoy TV and books, when they called her back. Mason and I settled back in, but after only another fifteen minutes or less a guy from "guest services" told us we could join her in the room.

Mason, btw, took all this pretty well. We sold it to him as a grand adventure, and he mostly bought into that idea. The waiting in the hospital room got boring though. While we waited for a doctor to get to us, we heard at least four ambulances come in. But, we had Harry Potter (which Mason is re-reading) and the games on my phone. Mama had REBECCA, which she's rereading, and I stared at the wall, when I wasn't playing block breaker on my phone. We were in one of those rooms that's actually divided by a curtain, so I spent some of my time listening to the other family's problems (a dislocated shoulder, perhaps?) I also took many mental notes of the room in case I ever need to write about an Emergency Room visit in an Ana book or other.

Even so, we were only there for two hours before the doctor came in and pronounced Shawn severely sprained, but not broken. Hooray! Then it took another half hour or so to get a nurse team in to fit Shawn with an "air" boot and give instructions on how to care for her foot.

Finally, we were discharged. While the nice guest services guy wheeled Mama out to the front entrance again, Mason and I went to fetch the car.

And discovered a flat tire. And, not just a little flat, but like scrape the bottom if you try to move flat.

Seriously.

So I took Mason back to Mama and called a taxi for them. Luckily, I'd taken out a bunch of cash earlier that day, and was able to give all of it and my house keys to Shawn. The taxi arrived in about ten minutes, just as I'd finished putting in a call to AAA.

Yes, I know, I fail as a butch lesbian because I didn't change the tire myself. But, what's the point of having AAA, if not for late night calls to hospital parking lots? Besides, the guy was great. He showed up within a half hour (I was told I might have to wait two), and we chatted about my age (long story) and politics (turns out he was a rabid Hilary supporter.)

I was on my way home before long, riding on the spare.

On that short drive back, I reflected on the day. It definitely could have been categorized as a crap-ass day, BUT I kept thinking about how much worse it could have been. Shawn could have broken her foot. We could have waited to go in on Sunday and discovered the flat in the morning and possibly missed any appointment Shawn might have made for Urgent Care. AAA could have taken much longer. My spare could have been flat, or worse, we could have gotten stranded on the way to the hospital somewhere on the road.

I decided, in fact, that we had really GOOD luck on a really BAD day.

Oh, and just to add to the hilarity of the crazy that was Saturday for us, we hadn't eaten before we left for the emergency room at 4 pm. Mason and I had snacked at Ava's party, I'd brought snacks, but we were all still pretty hungry by the time we all got home at 9 pm. I tried to order a pizza from our favorite shop, Eden Pizza, but they told us we'd have to wait another hour and a half for delivery because they were swamped. I almost just said, "fine," but decided to call Davanni's instead. They had hot pizza out to us in less than an hour. Way less. It was yet another moment of, "could be worse."

Sunday was "Ima's Day." I legally adopted Mason on December 5, lo, those many years ago now. Shawn and I considered sharing Mother's Day, but, I'm selfish and wanted my very own day of breakfast in bed, etc. But, because of Shawn's bum ankle, we didn't do much. I did get a nice present and a beautiful homemade card from Mason. I also got to go sledding, which I love to do with Mason. We went out to the country club on Marshall/Otis, and Mason zipped down the hill in the little orange saucer.

But, otherwise, I spent much of the day grumbling about having to fetch and carry for everyone on my special day. :-) But, seriously, I ended up really enjoying it. Mama and I played competitive Scrabble on the computer and I got to read and laze as well.

Again, in the end, I decided it was a pretty good day, considering. How about you? I hope you all stayed out of the Emergency Room! Today, alas, I'm sitting at a BORDER'S coffee shop waiting for Discount Tire to tell me they've finished with my car. So many people had problems over the weekend, though, that they said I might have to wait a couple of hours. Luckily, Border's is friendly, warm, has free wifi, and within walking distance of the tire place. I'd complain, but they're obligated to fix my tire free for life. So, even though it might be a long wait, it's not going to cost me anything other than hassle and time.

Ah, Friday

My son was funny this morning. Actually, he's got a good sense of humor most of the time, but this was more "funny peculuar." When we first came to our new internet coffee shop he was nearly in tears when the internet wasn't working. He was upset because I promised that today I'd download a bunch of new Big Fish games for the family. I told him not to worry. I was sure that someone would be able to fix it, but he made me SOLEMNLY promise to stay at the internet coffee shop _all day_ if necessary. I was like, "This, I can promise. Kiddo, you have no idea how awesome that sounds to me."

Thus, I am at the coffee shop downloading games. I'll be here all day, if necessary.

I was talking to people at my old coffee shop on Wednesday and they wanted to know the cool, new, secret place I've been spending all my time. I had to explain that, while I love this coffee shop, it's not worth the trip over here for the coffee, per se. (It's not bad, but this place doesn't have the groovy, super barista of my old place.) The reason to come to the Coffee Grounds in St. Paul is for the awesome internet.

In other news, I have a new review up: Raggedy Chan.

Also, there's new fan art at the Lyda Morehouse web site. Art I'm always amazed and happy when people send me fan art, especially considering that these books are all out-of-print and whatnot.

Once I'm done here, I intend to go work out again. Yesterday, I did about fifteen minutes on the eliptical and had a thirty minute coughing fit. It's very weird. This has been happening for me, on and off, every since I had that really, wicked bad cold/flu thing about a year ago. I'm going to go see my doctor that doesn't need insurance and ask him what he thinks might be up with this. It's very disconcerting. I really feel like I can't breathe. And then, at night, I wheeze.

Anyway, all the games are downloaded and it's time for lunch (and maybe a bit of Soltace shopping). Plus, my battery is running down, and I'm too lazy to reach over and plug it in. ;-)

Cat vs. Puzzle, a Photo Log

I mentioned earlier that it has become a holiday tradition to put together a jigsaw puzzle with the Jacksons when they come. This year, it was the awesomely titled, "Michael the Archangel Battles the Dragon While Almost No One Pays Attention."

But, what I neglected to tell you all was how the cats, in point of fact, DID pay attention. In fact, they seemed more keen than usual to sit on the puzzle each and every night. The first night after the Jackson's left, we came home to discover this:



Ms. Ball sitting in the box (which still had loose pieces in it) totally OWNING the puzzle. The next morning, I came downstairs to discover:



Inky spread across the whole thing. We also had to fight them during Thanksgiving dinner when we had to briefly relocate the puzzle to the floor. Pretty much everyone tried it on then. We saved the last puzzle piece for Mason to put in:



And, then, the final cat had to make her claim on the finished puzzle:



The picture is a bit blurry, because Deliah was LITERALLY rolling around on it as if to be all seagull about it, "Mine! Mine! Mine!"

25 to Life

Tomorrow is the anniversary of the first "date" that Shawn and I went on (approximately, we can't really remember the actual day, though we know we went Christmas shopping at Target.) Even though our actual figuring out that we were together took dating other people and general confusion, we decided that we were functionally together by that time. We were certainly living together in the cohabitating way, with benefits. That was 1985. Twenty-five years ago.

We're still not married, even though Iowa is a close drive away. For years, Shawn has mantained that she doesn't want to "ape the patriarchy." I've also never needed the ceremony (we've got plenty of dishes and toasters, a house, and the paper is supposedly meaningless once we cross back across the border to Minnesota). Plus, on some level I almost wonder if something official would put pressure on us that we don't need. In other words, if it ain't broke, don't fix it.

As an aside, I really don't get how this state-by-state marriage thing can be enforced. Are my parents, who married in Wisconsin, suddenly single when they come visit us in Minnesota? Not as far as I know. And, yet, somehow just because I can SEE that Adam and Steve are both men, I can decide not to honor their marriage? But because my eyes assume that Adam and Eve are of different genders, the law protects them. If that doesn't DEFINE discrimination, I don't know what does.

I'm really, really surprised no one has taken this state-by-state thing to court yet. Or have they? It would be kind of awesome if some straight married couple could get bitten by this state-by-state thing. You know, move from California or Iowa or Mass. and have someone randomly decide that their marriage isn't valid in Minnesota or New Mexico or South Carolina and deny them access to their husband/wife in the emergency room or refuse to pass on property rights when there's no will.

Because then the stupidity of this might come to light.

In the meantime, Shawn and I will celebrate twenty-five years together and listen to people rant on about how they need to protect marriage from people like us, because, you know, 50% of straight marriages don't end in divorce or anything. Oh... wait....