STUFF. LOVE SO MUCH.

It's Friday and guess what? I still love stuff. Like, a lot.

New Wayfarers. The old Wayfayers are classics, but they look gigantic and blocky on my weird small face. Good in theory, not on me. But holy shit, Ray-Ban now makes an updated version that's smaller and, yay, they look really pretty sweet on me. I don't own them yet, but I might one day soon. (Note to self: find shit to sell on eBay.)

This bike. You know why? Because it's named after my friend Noah. Is that not the coolest thing ever? I keep fluctuating between being really proud of him and being really really really jealous. Like, crazy jealous, because he got a BIKE NAMED AFTER HIM. DANG. I'm hoping to go see it at the Handmade Bicycle show this weekend and maybe weep all over it.


Twin Six. I'm pretty obsessed with Twin Six because they make the coolest non-girly female bike gear out there. They'll be at the bike show! So nerdily excited. I bought this one recently because the dots are actually tiny skulls and sixes:

I can't wait to get it completely filthy.

Never Tell a Lie by Hallie Ephron. I generally hesitate to recommend a book before I've finished it, but this one is (so far) really quite good. A "suburban noir" page-turner with a likeable main character, which is always important. I can usually tell when I have a good one when I think about it throughout the day and can't wait to get back to it. (Oh, and the author is Nora Ephron's sister! Damn overachievers.)

Have a good weekend, nerds.

Heh. Hand Wash.

My car is a disgrace. It's generally a bit down on the heel but since i got a new windshield I've been feeling kind of guilty about how completely and utterly filthy it is. The last time I had it washed was 2007. Seriously! That is just messed up. And by "had it washed" I don't mean a person washed it, I mean I ran it through the car wash and probably paid the extra two dollars for the fancy one with wax and undercarriage whatever. A disgrace. But, I am never going to be one of those people who wakes up on a warm sunny Saturday morning and thinks, "Hey, this would be the perfect opportunity to wash my car!" That is never going to happen.

But, things had gotten bad. All that snow meant that my car was covered with a fine layer of salt crud on top of the thick layer of crud crud and I just couldn't stand it anymore, so Saturday I told Kenny we were going to go find a car wash. We drove down to the busy corridor of car dealerships and gas stations until Kenny pointed out a slightly down-in-the-heel Exxon with a car wash. Perfect! There was a badly lettered sign out front that said "HAND WASH $8" but I wasn't really sure what that was about. I just wanted to run my car through the automated thingy and be done with it. Little did I know.

I drove around the back and down the narrow lane to the car wash, but before I even got to the pay-box a spry man with bucket in hand popped out of nowhere. Kenny got out to talk to him and apparently yes, the hand wash was $8. Sure, whatever, go ahead. Kenny got back in the car and we looked into the empty automated car wash while the man sprayed down my car. I looked over at him and said,

"Okay, I'm confused. Is it $8 for the hand wash PLUS the automated car wash?"

"I guess so. Maybe he's just prepping it."

"That car wash doesn't even look like it works."

"No, it doesn't."

Meanwhile, Mr. Hand Wash was scrubbing my tires and soaping down my whole car.

"I think...I think he IS the car wash."

And he was. He spent 20 minutes on my car and did a thorough job. I mean, my car gleamed afterwards! Kenny chatted with him and found out that he owned the gas station and I guess the car wash broke so he decided to just do it himself. I don't know but it ruled. So low-tech and unexpected! We gave him a nice tip and were shocked when the driver of the car behind us (who pulled out without his hand wash) offered him THREE DOLLARS, apparently appalled that the automated car wash was busted. Cheat loser.

Money Can't Buy The Stuff I Like. This week.

Hey, it's stuff I like:

BEING WELL OMG. I have been sick for the better part of three weeks - first a cold that lingered and then last weekend I got a sinus infection. I'm on the mend but still pretty congested and snotty and you can just close that comment window because the neti pot is NOT GOING TO HAPPEN. I am not going to shoot water out of my nose, no no no. They have a name for that - it's called water boarding. No thanks. But! I am definitely feeling nearly well and it's going to be in the goddamn FIFTIES this weekend and I AM GOING TO RIDE MY BIKE.

Sorry about the caps, I just haven't had this much to look forward to in a while.

Winter Olympics. I am way more into the winter Olympics than I've ever been before, probably because sitting on the couch in front of the TV blowing my nose is about as much as I've been able to do this week. I am fascinated with the men's figure skating costumes. Fascinated. I also seriously adore the snowboarders for being so un-Olympic-ly easy going. They just seem like nice kids and if I was 19 again I would totally want to try that. I've never so much as set foot on a ski slope but it looks like a good time except for the crashing part. That looks bad. Especially the downhill skiing which doesn't appeal at all because fuckin' OUCH.

My Mother's Latest Email. I could have an entire blog based around her emails because they're often so weird and apropos of nothing, though generally well-meaning. However, the day will come when she'll find and read my blog and I'm not willing to get Mom-Dooced. I will, however, share with you her latest because it's pretty cute. (It's based on a comment some friend made on my FaceSpacePlace account when I expressed my horror about downhill skiing.) Mom's email:

Subject: Hope the comment about you riding bikes down mountains at 70 mph was a joke

Message: Very scary. You have a wonderful face; wouldn't want to see it messed up. The snowboarding was awesome, and the skiing and the skating, but oh my god the dangers and the injuries. Stay safe.

Okay, step back a minute Mom and think about this. What the hell would I have to do on a mountain bike to reach 70 mph? I mean, I am pretty sure that Tour de France riders charging down a mountain on a top-of-the-line road bike would be hard pressed to hit those kind of speeds. Does my mother REALLY think I'm doing that? Because that is so awesome.

Fixing my tape deck. Aw, yeah. Remember how I wrote about the horrible buzzing noise coming from my tape deck when I used the iPod adapter? Here's what I did: I shoved the adapter in the other way, wire and all. Hard. And it worked! I'll probably never get it out again, but for now, PROBLEM SOLVED.

Have a good weekend, nerds.

That buzzing noise is my brain exploding.

I don't like it. Winter can suck it. I am done. DONE. My sister is done too. We do not live in upstate New York here. What the hell?

Last weekend it snowed again:


I used to think it was pretty but that photo just makes me feel like I'm hiding from the White Witch with too much Turkish Delight in my belly. Ugh. (Related: someone who is not me keeps walking through the house in his snow-covered boots even though I created a whole "here's where you take off your boots right by the front door" area. Hmph.) Last weekend got a little ugly, is all I'm saying.

Then it started to get better until yesterday morning when we had a little mini-blizzard. I fought my way into work (took an HOUR) only to be told that work was now closed and we should go home. The sun came out as I was driving back, of course. I am not even going to talk about the MORE SNOW predicted for this weekend.

You know who hates this weather even more than me? My car, that's who. Once upon a time, my car was a luxury vehicle. It was pretty nice if you were someone's grandpa looking for a sweet ride. It's still pretty powerful but it's starting to fall apart in highly irritating ways. Like, the flippy-flap that covers the visor mirror has a broken hinge and I have to rubber-band it in place. That is class.

Also, the small windshield crack on the passenger side had become a large crack encroaching on the drivers side. (The crack came with the car but didn't stop every. single. new passenger to say, "Oh, it looks like you have a crack in your windshield!" OMG REALLY? I HADN'T NOTICED.)

So yeah, the crack was starting to freak me out because every time the temperature dropped, it grew and grew. I had visions of the whole thing shattering in my face as I hit another pothole and WOW, do I not need that experience. So, since I don't have real insurance I had to pay out of pocket for a brand new sheet of glass this week. It looks pretty good, though, or it did until it got covered in salt, ice and chemicals.

But, the most annoying thing the cold does to my car involves the tape deck. Oh man, I want to take that thing out with my bare fists and smash it apart on the fake wood grain dashboard. See, I run a tape adapter through it in order to listen to my iPod in the car. Most of the time this is a great system, but lately on cold mornings it's been making the most god-awful buzzing noise. The full experience is like this:

I am the passenger BRZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ and I ride and I ride
I ride BRZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ through the city's backsides
I see the stars come out BZRZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ of the sky BRZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ
Yeah, the BRZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ
You know it looks BRZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ BRZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ

Singing la la la la la..BRZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ lala la BRZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZla, la la la la.. lala BRZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZla la etc AAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!

That last part is me losing my mind. Thank you and good night.

The Long Winter

Driving into work has been challenging this week, mostly because our city seems to think the sun is a great replacement for a snow plow. Not so much, Richmond. I found out this morning how to tell when you hit ice on the road - your tires stop working. Awesome! But, thanks to the extra shot of adrenaline I'm very very alert this morning. Wide awake.

We're set to get slammed with another big weekend-ruining storm tomorrow, so to tame my tantrum and get bit of a reality check I've been re-reading The Long Winter. Wow, hey, sucks for us but at least we're not weathering out a blizzard in a claim shanty with five other people and no heat except a wood stove. Dang.

Anyway, I was a little late to work, though not because of the ice. Just the usual reason: VH1 Classic. Oh, I love it so much. When the news gets too newsy in the morning I switch over and sometimes it's completely horrifying (Quarterflash!), and sometimes good. Today, it was extra good. First they played the video for Blue Jean.

David Bowie is just the greatest. Let's all take a minute.

I'm the greatest.

The original video for this song was 20 minutes long and had him playing two different characters: Jaded Drugged Out Rock Star and Hopeless Loser with a BandAid on his Nose. It's right here on Y0uTube, so if you're in the need of entertainment, I highly recommend.

While I was getting dressed, they played Save It for Later by the English Beat. Always a good time:



I stopped to watch it and then looked at the clock and had to rush. But! As I was walking out the door, this came on:



I literally stopped in my tracks and my bag fell out of my hand because damn, is there anything better than a luxuriously mulleted Robert Plant singing in front of a speedo-wearing xylophone player? I DON'T THINK SO. I have always loved this version of Sea of Love and I couldn't leave without watching the video. Awesome.

Okay, that's all for now. I know I still need to post about my Chicago trip and I will! Probably while snowed in this weekend.