fuhgettaboutit

i'm a leech in the sense that when i'm around people i start picking up on their mannerisms, immediately. when i lived in london for a very brief time i first noticed my internal monologue switching over to an english accent. then when i was interviewing people or talking late at night to my mom or boyfriend on the phone i would launch into an english accent uncontrollably. and fear would set in that they would know and i would know that i was a fake. after all i'm not english, try as i might.

so lately at work, i can't stop myself from sliding into using my fake brooklyn accent. the brooklyn/new york accent has enjoyed a long and beloved history with me. it began in seventh grade when our junior high did a rendition of "ducktails and bobbysocks". for all intensive purposes my accent was spot on. then in college i became "lynette anderson" as only tim and i can say it. we growled my name as if it was born in brooklyn and it became my fake persona. in fact tim is smiling right now about that memory. now i work with a dear person named olivia and we tend to banter back and forth in the same voice. we're good at it, too. we sound like amy pohler and maya rudolph when they do the bronx beat for snl. the problem is i can't turn it off when i talk to customers, so i end up the same fake with no accent control. and i think it comes off a bit rude in portland, especially when i snarl and ask, "what doya want?"

to all of you out there in england or new york, i'm sorry. i'm not trying to mock your accent. i enjoy it and it seems to enjoy me, too.

this budding mind

I have a few minutes before episode one of Flight of the Conchords downloads so I thought I'd say hello. I've been thinking of a couple of different posts and thought I'd start with this one: My First Socialist Thought.

It started a few weeks back when I was as the grocery store buying ingredients for a lasagna. I gathered everything I needed from the various isles in my arms and headed for the checkout. I was met by a moment of embarrassment and despair when I stood staring blanking at the pin pad. As an attempt to earn credit cards points I hadn't used my pin for weeks and it had been replaced in my brain with the handful of codes I had to learn for work. I left my groceries on the belt, promising to come back from them. And then I ran. Across the street was a Fred Meyer. They wouldn't ask me for a pin that had been lost in the recesses of my mind. Take that Winco. And by the end of the shopping experience I was hopeful that I hadn't paid much more by crossing the street. The pricing was more equal that I had thought. But thinking back I did pay about three or four dollars more for the same ingredients.

Moving on, about a week or so ago Jon and I were driving to get some Sunday afternoon bbq, which is inconsequential to this story. As I sat in the passenger seat I thought about how a bag of chocolate chips costs more at one store than at another. It didn't seem fair to have a disparity in pricing if the product was the same, and not generic versus real stuff. I mean the same exact thing. How can stores get away with selling things for more? So I asked Jon, why can stores charge a higher price for the same product? Shouldn't there be a rule that all prices are the same, no matter where you go?

He knew where I was going with this thought better than I did. You mean, the government should regulate the cost of prices, he asked. And I thought that made sense. That's socialism, Lynette, he said. And though I had always been taught that capitalism was in line with everything fair and good, I came across a socialist thought that made more sense. And no one even tried to convince me or inform me on socialism. I just thought in this case it made more sense.

me, at 24.

If you look closely you'll notice that my birthday cake says "Happy Anniversary" and man was it delicious. We still have some in our fridge if you want to come over and eat a piece with me. And you know you do. It's got ganache.

birthday anticipations

For those on the west coast my birthday officially starts in about an hour and a half. I know some of you on the east coast and in the post east have already begun the annual celebrations. In anticipation of this event the following has occurred:
we put up some streamers and held a small party that really was a gathering of a handful of friends. we still have some cupcakes left if you want to stop over.

my mom sent back a shirt i sent for her birthday and included not one but two cards.

the smashing pumpkins moved the release date of their album, zeitgeist, from 07.07.07 to the 10th. thanks, billy.

as a sidenote, in anticipation of the forthcoming album jon and i attempted to combine my two favorite artists: smashing pumpkins and sufjan stevens. the result was singing bullet with butterfly wings to the tune of john wayne gacy, jr. it works, just try it. and if you have other brilliant combinations let me know.

i know travis would encourage me to be reflective on such an occasion. i'm just trying to figure out what to do with my day off and the 102 degree slated for tomorrow.

She's 50!

I was hoping to post this yesterday on her actual birthday, but still let's take a moment and celebrate the fact that my Mom is 50 years old. My Dad took the plunge in January and now both of my parents are eligible for membership in the AARP. That's worth celebrating in and of itself. I love my Mom, the feisty Christ follower that she is. I hope she had a great day.

...but not the bed

I have made the following things today:
a hanging mobile decoration for the bathroom.
pico de gallo, which made my fingers sting.
dinner, from a combination of chicken, leftovers and the aforementioned pico de gallo.
a trip to the mailroom only find we had no mail.
a stunning victory in dr. mario moving me to level 14.
the potential for new life by planting some wild flower seeds I got from a starbucks card holder.

But I didn't make the bed.

And still I'm calling this day off a success.

cleanliness is loneliness

Picture this: a young wife spends thirty hours of her week slinging lattes and managing baristas in a fast-paced and very clean environment. The other parts of her weeks include time at church, volunteering, reading smalls books with well designed covers, creating dinners with chicken as the main course, watching malcolm in the middle reruns, etc. And then there are times when she is alone in the apartment she shares with her equally young husband. What is she to do?

Jon officially went back to school on Monday, so we are now officially into day three of jon being in school and me working. It's weird. I decided yesterday that the best solution to first being alone or second being alone because jon was here but doing schoolwork was to clean the house. I put on the decemberists and had a good time scrubbing away. And it's too bad we don't have silver to polish because I'm not quite sure what to do next. Rearrange furniture? Buy decorative pieces online? Set out on my own exploring the city and meeting new and interesting people? I guess we'll have to wait and see. I am thinking of turning a long piece of dried grape vine into a chandelier type fixture. More to come.