Yesterday, I turned in my printed copies of my dissertation to the graduate studies office. There is still the chance that they'll find a problem with the margins or page numbers or printing quality, but I'm trying not to think about that.
This is the first day in (I don't want to count how many) years that I am not feeling guilty for not working on my dissertation. It is a wonderful, peaceful feeling. It's weird: I'm nearly 40; My kids are grown; I have a husband, a house, a dog, a cat, fish; but I feel like I am just starting my life.
Maybe I can finally get one of those hobby things...
Saturday, December 19, 2009
Tuesday, December 15, 2009
Just call me Doctor
It's official.* I have a Ph.D.!! I defended my dissertation on Friday, December 11. My husband was completely sweet and let some of my buddies come and hang out at the chippy to celebrate. He gave us free beer and food. I think he loves me.
My next project is to lose what I have coined to be the ABD 20 (ABD = All But Dissertation). You have heard of the freshman 15? Well, the ABD 20 is what you gain sitting on your butt while fully stressed out trying to complete your dissertation. So, really I am not a full 20 pounds above my favorite weight** but 17. Most of the weight came on in the last 2 years and then a nice 5 pounds in the four weeks leading up to my defense. Seriously, if you don't know that getting a Ph.D. is detrimental to your health and well-being, you should. Take me as proof.
I like to joke with my husband and tell him that my next project is to get an M.D. He doesn't seem to think this is as funny as I do.
* Technically, according to the university, I won't officially have a Ph.D. until the end of winter term (March 2010). However, I have convinced the people that matter (my advisor and committee) that I have suffered enough to earn a Ph.D. That's good enough for my future employer, so it's official enough for me.
** My favorite weight is the weight where I last felt comfortable and most physically powerful. This is in contrast to how I feel now, kind of bloated and weaker.
My next project is to lose what I have coined to be the ABD 20 (ABD = All But Dissertation). You have heard of the freshman 15? Well, the ABD 20 is what you gain sitting on your butt while fully stressed out trying to complete your dissertation. So, really I am not a full 20 pounds above my favorite weight** but 17. Most of the weight came on in the last 2 years and then a nice 5 pounds in the four weeks leading up to my defense. Seriously, if you don't know that getting a Ph.D. is detrimental to your health and well-being, you should. Take me as proof.
I like to joke with my husband and tell him that my next project is to get an M.D. He doesn't seem to think this is as funny as I do.
* Technically, according to the university, I won't officially have a Ph.D. until the end of winter term (March 2010). However, I have convinced the people that matter (my advisor and committee) that I have suffered enough to earn a Ph.D. That's good enough for my future employer, so it's official enough for me.
** My favorite weight is the weight where I last felt comfortable and most physically powerful. This is in contrast to how I feel now, kind of bloated and weaker.
Thursday, July 30, 2009
Proud of my chippy
A new article* about the chippy. This is in a city-wide paper read by the younger crowd.
* Warning: This article contains the F-word (once).
* Warning: This article contains the F-word (once).
Monday, July 27, 2009
Probiotics
Here's more evidence that you should be drinking your kefir. A study showed that children taking probiotics were sick less often and with shorter durations than children who did not take probiotics.
Sunday, July 5, 2009
Big Ben
It turns out that Ben does not like fireworks. Last night I was trying to watch a movie (because Mick was busy and I don't particularly like fireworks) and Ben wanted to be really close to me all night.
He got progressively more clingy as the fireworks celebrations got more festive.
By the end of the night, he was very tired but was trying to keep his head in my lap.
I have the towel in my lap to protect me and my clothing from his drool. Seriously.
He got progressively more clingy as the fireworks celebrations got more festive.
By the end of the night, he was very tired but was trying to keep his head in my lap.
I have the towel in my lap to protect me and my clothing from his drool. Seriously.
Thursday, June 25, 2009
Baby things and a granddaddy thing
The growing season starts later here in the PNW than it does in other parts of the country. I have been jealous to hear that my friends in NC and other parts already have more zucchini than they can eat. Well, I am proud to announce that I have spotted my first baby zucchinis, which means I will soon have more zucchini than I can eat! See, aren't they beautiful?
I am just hoping that the slugs don't get to them before they are ready to eat. I found this guy in my yard the other day.
I put my finger as close to it as I could muster to give a little perspective.
Look how big he is! Eeewww.
I am just hoping that the slugs don't get to them before they are ready to eat. I found this guy in my yard the other day.
I put my finger as close to it as I could muster to give a little perspective.
Look how big he is! Eeewww.
Saturday, June 20, 2009
Sir KFC
This month Portland is celebrating Pedalpalooza. Pedalpalooza is a 2-3 week celebration of bikes and fun on bikes. There's events to suit every personality: naked bike rides, bar hopping bike rides, nature nerd bike rides, and family rides. There's even a ride for people who like to dress up like Santa. One of the events is the Stumptown Joustdown, which is a jousting tournament on bikes. As soon as I told mentaljr about this, he was all over it. He made a suit of armor. This is him on the way to the battlefield.
He worked really hard on the armor.
There was even a helmet.
Here's an action shot.
The best part is that the armor is made of KFC buckets.
Unfortunately, the event started about 45 minutes late and I had an appointment, so I missed mentaljr's bike jousting. By the time I got back, they were getting creative. There were chicken jousts (person on shoulders of biker on tiny bike), sidecar bike jousts (homemade bikes with side cars), unicycle jousts, etc. Mentaljr volunteered for the on-foot joust. I was kind of worried.
The joust quickly turned into a good old-fashioned stick fight at which point the organizer stopped the "joust" much to mentaljr's dismay.
It was a cool event, but still pretty scary. I can't believe no one ended up in the hospital. Here's a last shot of mentaljr on his bike.
He worked really hard on the armor.
There was even a helmet.
Here's an action shot.
The best part is that the armor is made of KFC buckets.
Unfortunately, the event started about 45 minutes late and I had an appointment, so I missed mentaljr's bike jousting. By the time I got back, they were getting creative. There were chicken jousts (person on shoulders of biker on tiny bike), sidecar bike jousts (homemade bikes with side cars), unicycle jousts, etc. Mentaljr volunteered for the on-foot joust. I was kind of worried.
The joust quickly turned into a good old-fashioned stick fight at which point the organizer stopped the "joust" much to mentaljr's dismay.
It was a cool event, but still pretty scary. I can't believe no one ended up in the hospital. Here's a last shot of mentaljr on his bike.
Monday, June 8, 2009
Beware the dance of the crispbread
Okay, there's naked guys in this video, but don't worry, you don't actually see anything besides cheeks. They are very crafty with the crispbread. It's super-funny. Maybe just don't watch it at work
via videosift.com
via videosift.com
Sunday, June 7, 2009
Observations of interactions between automobiles and cyclists in Portland
I ride my bike pretty much every day. On my route to school, I ride on a busy road with a maximum speed limit of 45 mph. It has a bike lane, but there are two spots where the bike lane just ends and forces cyclists into traffic for bridge crossings. I usually ride in before or after rush hour, so it's not too bad. On my route home from school, I take the long way to avoid traffic. The long way goes up a big, windy hill and then down. This ride also has bike lanes, and although it's a more difficult ride, I prefer it because it's safer. Both routes have a lot of cars and buses. They're just going much slower on the afternoon route.
During my many rides, I have noticed differences in the way people treat cyclists based on the kind of car they drive. Here are some of my observations:
1) Prius drivers: There are many Prius drivers in Portland. Most are silver. These drivers are my favorites. They tend to be very accommodating of cyclists, and although the body of a Prius takes up hardly any of the lane, they tend to move far to the left and give cyclists a very wide berth. I figure they're extra nice to cyclists because they feel guilty that although they're driving a hybrid, they still are actually polluting more than a cyclist. Obviously, cyclists care more about the environment and deserve to be revered.
2) Lexus drivers: Lexus drivers seem to be very relaxed folks, not in much of a hurry. In my mind, the fact that they can afford a Lexus shows that they've made it, achieved a certain level of affluence, and they feel they can slow down and enjoy life now. Lexus drivers are gentle around cyclists and hardly ever try dangerous passing, honking, or other annoying maneuvers.
3) BMW drivers: Be aware. People who drive BMWs are impatient and scary. They do not like to be slowed down at all. If you are a cyclist, be prepared for unsafe, erratic behavior from these drivers. My opinion on why they are this way as compared to Lexus drivers, is that although they are obviously successful to the point that they can afford a BMW, they are still moving up, and don't feel they can stop or slow down, or the upward trend might end.
4) Subaru station wagon drivers: It's amazing how many forest green, 4-wheel drive, Subaru station wagons you'll see in Portland. Usually, there is a bike rack on the back. Like the Prius, these wagons don't take up too much lane. However, unlike the Prius, the drivers are not overly cautious around cyclists. They are predictable and safe, but they don't go out of their way to give cyclists a big buffer. I figure since they have bike racks, they must ride, and have experience with what feels safe and what doesn't when you're cycling.
5) Mini van drivers: A lot of these drivers seem to be moms. There's kids in the car. Now, you might think that mom would want to set a good example for the kids and drive nicely around cyclists, but this is not usually the case. Although some of these drivers really scare me by tailgating, passing over double lines on blind curves, etc., I try to be as forgiving as possible. I figure there's a reason mom is so mad. It's probably those darn kids screaming on the way to lessons they don't want to go to.
6) Bus drivers: Let me say first off, that if it's a C-tran bus (from Vancouver), fear for your life. Those drivers do not seem to be as well-trained as Portland's Trimet drivers. Once, on my way home on the curvy route, as a C-tran bus passed me on a curve, the back end of the bus crossed progressively more and more into the bike lane, to the point that I slammed on my brakes for fear that I would end up under the bus before it finished passing. I had plans to jump off my bike if need be. That was too close. Now, Trimet drivers tend to fall into two categories: those that want to kill or at least frighten cyclists and those that don't. One could also view these two categories as: those who have no idea what it feels like to be on a bike a mere three feet away from a multi-ton bus screaming by at 50 mph and those that do. I've noticed a growing number of the latter type of Trimet bus driver. I wonder if they've implemented some sort of cyclist-sensitivity training or something. Whatever it is, I really appreciate it, and I try to do my part in continuing the good will by giving buses plenty of room, trying to stay out of their blind spots, etc.
7) Work truck drivers: Here, by work truck, I mean a truck on the order of an F-350. These drivers don't tend to be very nice. Maybe they're grumpy because they're working. Maybe they figure all cyclists are commie liberals. I don't know.
8) Honking huge SUVs: This is the most bizarre thing. It seems that all SUV drivers have this tendency. After passing a cyclist, their big, fat tail end veers at least a foot into the bike lane. I am not sure if it's some sort of subconscious action as they're looking in the rear-view mirror to make sure that they have safely passed the cyclist, or if they are really just not paying attention at all, and had they passed you just seconds later, you would be toast. Sometimes, I wonder if they do it to be intimidating. In my commie liberal mind, all people who drive SUVs have big egos and chips on their shoulders because they feel guilty for polluting.
During my many rides, I have noticed differences in the way people treat cyclists based on the kind of car they drive. Here are some of my observations:
1) Prius drivers: There are many Prius drivers in Portland. Most are silver. These drivers are my favorites. They tend to be very accommodating of cyclists, and although the body of a Prius takes up hardly any of the lane, they tend to move far to the left and give cyclists a very wide berth. I figure they're extra nice to cyclists because they feel guilty that although they're driving a hybrid, they still are actually polluting more than a cyclist. Obviously, cyclists care more about the environment and deserve to be revered.
2) Lexus drivers: Lexus drivers seem to be very relaxed folks, not in much of a hurry. In my mind, the fact that they can afford a Lexus shows that they've made it, achieved a certain level of affluence, and they feel they can slow down and enjoy life now. Lexus drivers are gentle around cyclists and hardly ever try dangerous passing, honking, or other annoying maneuvers.
3) BMW drivers: Be aware. People who drive BMWs are impatient and scary. They do not like to be slowed down at all. If you are a cyclist, be prepared for unsafe, erratic behavior from these drivers. My opinion on why they are this way as compared to Lexus drivers, is that although they are obviously successful to the point that they can afford a BMW, they are still moving up, and don't feel they can stop or slow down, or the upward trend might end.
4) Subaru station wagon drivers: It's amazing how many forest green, 4-wheel drive, Subaru station wagons you'll see in Portland. Usually, there is a bike rack on the back. Like the Prius, these wagons don't take up too much lane. However, unlike the Prius, the drivers are not overly cautious around cyclists. They are predictable and safe, but they don't go out of their way to give cyclists a big buffer. I figure since they have bike racks, they must ride, and have experience with what feels safe and what doesn't when you're cycling.
5) Mini van drivers: A lot of these drivers seem to be moms. There's kids in the car. Now, you might think that mom would want to set a good example for the kids and drive nicely around cyclists, but this is not usually the case. Although some of these drivers really scare me by tailgating, passing over double lines on blind curves, etc., I try to be as forgiving as possible. I figure there's a reason mom is so mad. It's probably those darn kids screaming on the way to lessons they don't want to go to.
6) Bus drivers: Let me say first off, that if it's a C-tran bus (from Vancouver), fear for your life. Those drivers do not seem to be as well-trained as Portland's Trimet drivers. Once, on my way home on the curvy route, as a C-tran bus passed me on a curve, the back end of the bus crossed progressively more and more into the bike lane, to the point that I slammed on my brakes for fear that I would end up under the bus before it finished passing. I had plans to jump off my bike if need be. That was too close. Now, Trimet drivers tend to fall into two categories: those that want to kill or at least frighten cyclists and those that don't. One could also view these two categories as: those who have no idea what it feels like to be on a bike a mere three feet away from a multi-ton bus screaming by at 50 mph and those that do. I've noticed a growing number of the latter type of Trimet bus driver. I wonder if they've implemented some sort of cyclist-sensitivity training or something. Whatever it is, I really appreciate it, and I try to do my part in continuing the good will by giving buses plenty of room, trying to stay out of their blind spots, etc.
7) Work truck drivers: Here, by work truck, I mean a truck on the order of an F-350. These drivers don't tend to be very nice. Maybe they're grumpy because they're working. Maybe they figure all cyclists are commie liberals. I don't know.
8) Honking huge SUVs: This is the most bizarre thing. It seems that all SUV drivers have this tendency. After passing a cyclist, their big, fat tail end veers at least a foot into the bike lane. I am not sure if it's some sort of subconscious action as they're looking in the rear-view mirror to make sure that they have safely passed the cyclist, or if they are really just not paying attention at all, and had they passed you just seconds later, you would be toast. Sometimes, I wonder if they do it to be intimidating. In my commie liberal mind, all people who drive SUVs have big egos and chips on their shoulders because they feel guilty for polluting.
Saturday, June 6, 2009
My life is like Costco
So, I am getting close to finishing my dissertation and my days are very full with research work. Unfortunately, I am not paid well enough as a research assistant to have a maid, and my dear Micky does not appear to be able to see dirt, clutter, dogs that need to go out, or lawns that need mowing. During busy times when deadlines are looming, I find myself living on the verge of squalor, and try to justify the time it takes to mop the kitchen, clean the bathroom, vacuum the floors...
My rule of thumb when shopping at Costco is: everything costs $10. This is obviously not a strictly true statement, but on average, it works out that way. If I have 10 things in my cart, I'm looking at about $100. Although most purchases at Costco are a bargain, $100 feels like a lot for 10 grocery items.
Lately, I've realized that, on average, each household chore takes about 10 minutes. 10 minutes doesn't sound too bad, until I think of the list of chores and realize that I'm looking at hours of work.
I'm sure by now you see the analogy, but let's do it SAT style, shall we?
$10/item at Costco is to 10 minutes/chore of housework as
a) $100 is to 1.67 hours
b) $200 is to 3.33 hours
c) $100 is to 10 minutes
d) $10 is to 10 minutes
e) none of the above
f) all of the above
g) a, b, and c
h) a and b
i) a and d
j) c and d
My rule of thumb when shopping at Costco is: everything costs $10. This is obviously not a strictly true statement, but on average, it works out that way. If I have 10 things in my cart, I'm looking at about $100. Although most purchases at Costco are a bargain, $100 feels like a lot for 10 grocery items.
Lately, I've realized that, on average, each household chore takes about 10 minutes. 10 minutes doesn't sound too bad, until I think of the list of chores and realize that I'm looking at hours of work.
I'm sure by now you see the analogy, but let's do it SAT style, shall we?
$10/item at Costco is to 10 minutes/chore of housework as
a) $100 is to 1.67 hours
b) $200 is to 3.33 hours
c) $100 is to 10 minutes
d) $10 is to 10 minutes
e) none of the above
f) all of the above
g) a, b, and c
h) a and b
i) a and d
j) c and d
Thursday, May 28, 2009
Neato
Did you know that your white blood cells make bleach to kill invading bacteria? I didn't. I can't believe no one told me!
How very cool. Also, the article says that overproduction of bleach may be a contributing factor in several inflammatory diseases, such as IBD and arthritis. Interesting. Here's another article about how the bleach might be leaking out of the white blood cells and causing problems.
I remember reading a while back that swimming in chlorine-treated pools was thought to play a role in asthma. I wonder ... did the chlorine hurt the proteins in the lungs, or possibly damage any bacterial colonies that live in healthy lungs (do we have bacteria in our lungs? I can't imagine that we don't).
Also interesting is recent news that bleach water baths may soothe the symptoms of eczema and new news regarding bacteria colonies on healthy skin. So, is there some imbalance in the bacterial colonies on skin that contributes to eczema? Could be, given a recent study that says giving babies probiotics reduces the risk of eczema by 60%.
Oh, I love science. Perhaps after I get my PhD, I'll go get my MD.... Just kidding, Mick!
How very cool. Also, the article says that overproduction of bleach may be a contributing factor in several inflammatory diseases, such as IBD and arthritis. Interesting. Here's another article about how the bleach might be leaking out of the white blood cells and causing problems.
I remember reading a while back that swimming in chlorine-treated pools was thought to play a role in asthma. I wonder ... did the chlorine hurt the proteins in the lungs, or possibly damage any bacterial colonies that live in healthy lungs (do we have bacteria in our lungs? I can't imagine that we don't).
Also interesting is recent news that bleach water baths may soothe the symptoms of eczema and new news regarding bacteria colonies on healthy skin. So, is there some imbalance in the bacterial colonies on skin that contributes to eczema? Could be, given a recent study that says giving babies probiotics reduces the risk of eczema by 60%.
Oh, I love science. Perhaps after I get my PhD, I'll go get my MD.... Just kidding, Mick!
Tuesday, May 26, 2009
No wonder it gives you wings
Red Bull is being banned in Germany because cocaine was found in the drink. Apparently, the makers of Red Bull use decocainised coca leaf extra as a flavoring. I guess in the same way that decaffeinated coffee still contains caffeine, decocainised coca extract still contains cocaine. No wonder Red Bull is so popular. Myself, I call it "heart attack in a can" and tell Mick he's not allowed to drink it. He doesn't listen to me, but that doesn't stop me from telling him!
Sunday, May 24, 2009
Chew and Me
So, it turns out that the movie Marley and Me is not the best one to watch just a few days after your dog dies of old age. Silly me at the movie store: oh, look. Jennifer Aniston and a puppy, that looks cute...
Friday, May 22, 2009
Rest in Peace Dear Chew
Chew passed away this morning about 9:00 AM. He didn't move at all last night, and was unresponsive this morning, so we decided the most humane thing to do was call the vet. Our vet was wonderful and postponed the start of a surgery to make a house call to give Chew peace. (Seriously, Dr. Kellogg at Burlingame Veterinary Clinic is a wonderful vet and if you live in Portland, you should consider him.)
Sir Chew the Defender was born on October 5, 1994 and lived a long and mostly healthy 15 years. Chew was an AKA certified chow chow; his mother was Ming Yen How and his father was Bobbie Lee. Chew is survived by his adopted brother, Ben. Chew was good dog when he wasn't being bad. Chew answered to the following aliases: chewbacca, poochie pants, poochie, chewper pooper, chewie, chewie pie, poop master, chew-chew, old man.
I met Chew when he was 3 years old. After getting to know him, I maintained the fantasy that he was a reincarnated Chinese man. He had been bad in his former life, so had been reincarnated as a dog. He resented being a dog. He was very smart and understood me when I talked to him; I could see it in his eyes. He was very prissy for a dog. He didn't like mud or getting his feet wet. He was very dignified while eating and drinking. He never made a mess, unlike some dogs who shall remain nameless. He was mischievous to the end. There weren't many fences that could keep him until the last couple of years when his arthritis got bad. When he was a young man, I used to have to be very careful when opening doors, because he would shoot out and run like the wind. He used to bark so viciously at the mailman (from inside the house) that some would refuse to deliver to our home. I never worried when I was home alone when Chew was there. Despite his breeding, Chew only bit three people. (1) Sam, our niece, who for some reason thought it was funny to pounce on Chew when he was sleeping. Chew gave her numerous warnings, and after about the 50th time, gave her a good nip, but did not break the skin. (2) A groomer who had the unfortunate task of grooming him while he had a soon to be discovered wheat allergy which made his hair fall out and sores grow on his skin. I think he was hurting, but his nip also did not break the skin of the groomer. (3) Bert. If you don't know Bert, suffice it to say Bert was asking for it. If you do know Bert, I'm sure no further explanation is required. I do believe he did break the skin when biting Bert. I think Chew was quite justified in this case.
Chew, you were a good dog. Rest in peace, sweet chew-chew.
Thursday, May 21, 2009
Pobre Chew
I think Chew is dying. To be honest, I have thought this many times and have been wrong. I swear that dog does not want to die. Many mornings when I get up and go downstairs to let the dogs out, Chew is breathing so shallowly and, since he's deaf, he doesn't hear me and keeps sleeping. I always think, oh, this is the day he's really dead, and then he feels Ben jumping around on his bed and wakes up. Then, I feel silly.
Lately, though, his arthritis has been worse, he's been less interested in food, and has been sleeping very, very soundly for long periods. It's gotten to where I have to put the food in his mouth and remind him what food is for.
Earlier this evening, I saw Chew hanging out with Ben. He seemed alright. I checked their water bowls and topped them up. I went out to Costco with Mick, just to hang out. I came back a couple hours later and went out to find and feed the dogs. Ben, of course, came to find me right away and started eating. I found Chew and saw he was sleeping, and did the, ha, look at me, I think Chew is dying again, how stupid am I thing. Then, I noted he was breathing differently, very deeply and rapidly, and his mouth was moving like maybe he was eating or barking in his sleep. I put food near his nose, because usually that will wake him up. It didn't work. I clapped my hands really loudly and that didn't work. I usually don't like to touch him when he's sleeping, because it startles him so. However, I touched him softly, and then with more force while making loud noises, but he didn't wake up or move.
It was a little warm today, in the 70's, and I thought, well, maybe the heat was too much for this old guy. I went and got a syringe and filled it with water and squirted it in his mouth a few times. He didn't respond.
I went out a few minutes later and his tongue was in a weird position, sort of overly relaxed, and he was making a gurgling sound. He had peed in his sleep. There was a lot of drool coming out of his mouth. Oh, sweet Chew, is this the end?
Lately, though, his arthritis has been worse, he's been less interested in food, and has been sleeping very, very soundly for long periods. It's gotten to where I have to put the food in his mouth and remind him what food is for.
Earlier this evening, I saw Chew hanging out with Ben. He seemed alright. I checked their water bowls and topped them up. I went out to Costco with Mick, just to hang out. I came back a couple hours later and went out to find and feed the dogs. Ben, of course, came to find me right away and started eating. I found Chew and saw he was sleeping, and did the, ha, look at me, I think Chew is dying again, how stupid am I thing. Then, I noted he was breathing differently, very deeply and rapidly, and his mouth was moving like maybe he was eating or barking in his sleep. I put food near his nose, because usually that will wake him up. It didn't work. I clapped my hands really loudly and that didn't work. I usually don't like to touch him when he's sleeping, because it startles him so. However, I touched him softly, and then with more force while making loud noises, but he didn't wake up or move.
It was a little warm today, in the 70's, and I thought, well, maybe the heat was too much for this old guy. I went and got a syringe and filled it with water and squirted it in his mouth a few times. He didn't respond.
I went out a few minutes later and his tongue was in a weird position, sort of overly relaxed, and he was making a gurgling sound. He had peed in his sleep. There was a lot of drool coming out of his mouth. Oh, sweet Chew, is this the end?
Monday, May 18, 2009
New Love
I have had my trusty Trek 730 hybrid bike for probably 16 years. Granted, it spent about 7 of those years sitting in the garage, but I would say that it was a good purchase. I rode that bike a lot and didn't do much maintenance apart from the occasional tune-up. This past year, though, I noted that it seemed to be getting more difficult to ride. At first, I thought I was just tired. Then, I thought it was the new tires I put on it, or maybe that I wasn't putting enough air in the tires. It just kept getting worse and worse. I took it into a shop and they told me nothing was wrong with it, grrr. Then, last Friday, I noted that I was having to pedal with force to go downhill. That was the last straw.
I went to a bike shop and bought a new Trek. I would show you a picture, but I am too lazy to download the photos off my camera, so you can go to this link to see it. It's so pretty. It even has flowers on it! At first, I was uncomfortable because the frame length is very short; the handlebars are very close to the seat. After riding it for a while, though, it is much more comfortable than my old bike. Also, it is much more stylish! Of course, I ruined the stylishness by strapping a milk crate to a rack on the back so that I can carry my stuff. Now, it just looks Portland ghetto, which hopefully means someone will be less likely to steal it or stuff off of it.
The difference between my old bike and this bike is the difference between wading in waist-deep mud and flying.
I went to a bike shop and bought a new Trek. I would show you a picture, but I am too lazy to download the photos off my camera, so you can go to this link to see it. It's so pretty. It even has flowers on it! At first, I was uncomfortable because the frame length is very short; the handlebars are very close to the seat. After riding it for a while, though, it is much more comfortable than my old bike. Also, it is much more stylish! Of course, I ruined the stylishness by strapping a milk crate to a rack on the back so that I can carry my stuff. Now, it just looks Portland ghetto, which hopefully means someone will be less likely to steal it or stuff off of it.
The difference between my old bike and this bike is the difference between wading in waist-deep mud and flying.
Tuesday, May 5, 2009
Pickly
I've wanted to try rinsing my hair with vinegar for quite a while, but never got around to it. I heard a few things about it:
1) Britney Spears does it
2) it makes your hair have more body
3) it makes your hair shiny
Yesterday, I tried it and yes, I think it made a difference. One notable difference is that I smell slightly pickly. I thought that I rinsed really well, but I guess I could have done better. It's not bad, though. I love pickles. My hair does seem to have more body and I do think it's shinier. Could I be imagining this? Yes, I have quite a strong imagination. However, I do think there is some change. I also think that the bit of natural curl I have came out more. I could ask Mick for an opinion less swayed by imagination, but he never notices anything about my hair. Once, I hacked off about 6 inches off of my hair and he didn't say anything.
What I did: I took a couple cups of white vinegar into the shower with me. After shampooing, I poured the vinegar over my hair and massaged it in. I left it in while doing my other shower business, and then rinsed it out.
Words to the wise: When dumping the vinegar on your head, tilt your head back and close your eyes. Also keep in mind that any little skin abrasions you might have (I had slightly chapped lips) will sting if the vinegar gets on them. Before you open your eyes, make sure that you rinse your face really well. I made the mistake of thinking I had rinsed well enough and got a little vinegar in my eyes (ouch!).
1) Britney Spears does it
2) it makes your hair have more body
3) it makes your hair shiny
Yesterday, I tried it and yes, I think it made a difference. One notable difference is that I smell slightly pickly. I thought that I rinsed really well, but I guess I could have done better. It's not bad, though. I love pickles. My hair does seem to have more body and I do think it's shinier. Could I be imagining this? Yes, I have quite a strong imagination. However, I do think there is some change. I also think that the bit of natural curl I have came out more. I could ask Mick for an opinion less swayed by imagination, but he never notices anything about my hair. Once, I hacked off about 6 inches off of my hair and he didn't say anything.
What I did: I took a couple cups of white vinegar into the shower with me. After shampooing, I poured the vinegar over my hair and massaged it in. I left it in while doing my other shower business, and then rinsed it out.
Words to the wise: When dumping the vinegar on your head, tilt your head back and close your eyes. Also keep in mind that any little skin abrasions you might have (I had slightly chapped lips) will sting if the vinegar gets on them. Before you open your eyes, make sure that you rinse your face really well. I made the mistake of thinking I had rinsed well enough and got a little vinegar in my eyes (ouch!).
Monday, May 4, 2009
Impending
I am currently sitting in my pajamas on the couch. Yes, it is Monday morning at 11:00, but don't judge me too harshly. I am actually working. I started to wonder if maybe I should go to school, mostly because the Internet speeds are much faster there and I am doing work using a GUI that is running remotely, so it's a little tedious. I commute by bike, because dang it if I want to pay Trimet $2 per ride just to get a couple miles down the road, and dang it if I want to pay $10 to park for the day. It's not currently raining, so it seemed like a good idea until I looked at the radar.
Hmm, see that big bunch of heavy rain coming towards Portland? Maybe I'll just work at home today. Sometimes I love being a grad student.
Hmm, see that big bunch of heavy rain coming towards Portland? Maybe I'll just work at home today. Sometimes I love being a grad student.
Tuesday, April 28, 2009
The important things I did today:
- snuggled in bed a couple extra hours with my dear Micky (yes, there are benefits to being a perpetual grad student: flexible working hours!)
- spent some time writing memories of a dear friend recently departed
- called up mentaljr and offered him some dinner and the chance to do some free laundry. He jumped at the chance. We watched Bride Wars while he did his laundry. It was fun. He ate 2 really big bean and cheese burritos.
- went to visit Mick at the chippy. He's expanding the chippy and I got to listen to him talk about his plans. He gets so excited!
- didn't feel (very) guilty about not getting much work done. Tomorrow is another day
- spent some time writing memories of a dear friend recently departed
- called up mentaljr and offered him some dinner and the chance to do some free laundry. He jumped at the chance. We watched Bride Wars while he did his laundry. It was fun. He ate 2 really big bean and cheese burritos.
- went to visit Mick at the chippy. He's expanding the chippy and I got to listen to him talk about his plans. He gets so excited!
- didn't feel (very) guilty about not getting much work done. Tomorrow is another day
In loving memory of Sasha Clapper
Last Friday night, my dear friend Sasha Clapper was killed while riding his motorcycle. My friend Ellen called me on Sunday morning to let me know. Although I heard her say the words, and I knew what she said was true, it was somehow unreal to me for several hours. Then, suddenly, sitting at my desk in my lab, I was flooded with the sad reality of there being no more Sasha. I burst into tears and tried to make sense of it. I read the news article about him. It was very terse and implied that speed was a factor in the accident. I believe this. I have ridden on the back of the motorcycle while Sasha was driving and I know that he doesn't drive like a grandma. Unfortunately, there were a couple of people posting horrible comments about motorcyclists at the end of the article. It was so hard to read them. Thankfully, the comment moderator has removed them. On another forum for motorcyclists, several mentioned the spot were he crashed to be very dangerous due to a 4" bump in the road. Several mentioned almost losing control there...
There is a nice obituary here.
I met Sasha in high school, NCSSM. Oh, he was crazy and fun. He tended to be a bit too crazy for me and, in fact, got in some serious trouble at school. We hung out in the same crowd, but we weren't terribly close. Fast forward to college... I attended UNC for a time. My dorm roommate decided to live with her boyfriend instead of in the dorm, so I had a double room all to myself. At the time, Sasha was homeless, so I let him stay in the extra bed. I remember him having to break into the dorm by climbing the outside wall to get in when he came in after they locked the doors. I also remember combing out his dread locks (boy that took a lot of time and conditioner!) and braiding his hair into many, many braids. He wore his hair like that for a long time.
The following summer, I lived in an apartment in Chapel Hill with little Alex. Sasha and I were still just friends for a long time, until one friend (Susan) pointed out that we were in love. For some reason, I didn't realize it until she said it. After that, we were inseparable. I just remembered that I let Sasha pierce my belly button with a safety pin that summer! Oh, man, what was I thinking!
The next fall, Sasha went to Reed College in Portland, Oregon. I was so sad, but it is what he wanted to do. I stayed in Chapel Hill and worked and saved up my money. I was pretty miserable. In December, I made plans to move to Oregon to be with him. Looking back, I'm not completely sure he wanted me to come out, but, well, he didn't communicate that clearly and I did. I lived in his dorm room with him and ate whatever we could get our hands on. Mostly, we lived on potatoes. Our favorite was potato soup. I still have a burn on my hand from some soup popping out of the pot and landing on it. Oh, that hurt. Oh, yeah. We also used to eat free pizza. Dominoes had a stupid guarantee that if you weren't completely satisfied, you could get your money back, no questions. Seriously, how stupid is that?! Being quite young, we didn't really realize how unscrupulous our actions were, and we ate a LOT of free pizza.
The free pizza is what led to my tattoo, believe it or not. After the local Dominoes figured out that we were living on unsatisfactory free pizza, they started getting slower and slower at delivering our refunds. One night, there was some terrific party to go to. Of course, now I don't remember what was so terrific about it. Anyway, Sasha and Mike decided to leave me to wait for the refund and took off to the party. I waited for hours and got pretty mad. Somehow I ended up talking to Chiara who convinced me that what we needed were tattoos. Sasha had been saving up money for a tattoo of his own, and I was so mad that I took his tattoo money and hopped in the car with Chiara. When we arrived at the tattoo parlor, I studied the wall and said, "I want that one!" I pointed at an eye of Horus. Chiara got a black panther on her back. I got the eye on my right arm. When Sasha finally got home from the party, he was taken aback that I had done what I had done, but wasn't particularly mad that I had taken his money.
That spring break, we went on a bike ride to the Oregon coast, down the coast, and back to Portland. We didn't plan terribly well, but it was an adventure. We went with Mike and had a 2-man tent for the 3 of us! We had some milk crates strapped to the back of our bikes for our gear and food. The first night, we slept in a farmer's field. That was weird. The next night, we slept in a homeless shelter in Tillamook. We had planed to stay in the youth hostel, but it wasn't open for the season yet. Luckily, there aren't too many homeless people in Tillamook, so they had beds for us and we even got to do our laundry. The laundry was a nice perk since we had gotten rained on heavily on the trip from the farmer's field to Tillamook. I think that shelter must be one of the nicest in the US. It was a house, so it didn't have an institutional feel. We were allowed to cook what we wanted in the kitchen and watch TV in the living room. The next day, we headed down the coast, and ended up at Cape Lookout. There was a hiker/biker campground there, so we pitched our tent and stayed the night. During the night, some raccoons got into our gear and ate our food. We woke up HUNGRY! We tried to get a pizza place in Tillamook to deliver to us, since it was only about 10 miles away, but they wouldn't. I figure we had ruined our pizza karma with the Dominoes scam, so we deserved it. I don't remember what we ate, but obviously, we survived somehow. We went down the coast to Lincoln City and then headed back. I remember Sasha got a cold on the trip and had a runny nose. Once or twice while was biking behind him, he blew his nose "cowboy style". I was mad about the boogers flying back at me. He said sorry, genuinely seeming to not realize that boogers flying would be a consequence of the blow. Silly Sasha.
Oh, if I wrote of all the adventures we had and my memories of him, I would never stop writing:
- donuts in the camaro at Fish Lake
- following Phish and shouting Free Bird until one day they played it!
- the purple suede pants he wanted so bad and I worked so hard to save up for, and then didn't wear after he got them
- the stinky sweat socks he would wear for days even though he had other socks, but liked the look of the stinky ones
- we used to call him "Feets Clapper" because he was accident prone
- living in the basement of the Dustbin and listening to our crazy house mate talk to himself in the night (creepy!)
- making friends with the folks in the FBI house who turned out to be some of my best friends in the whole world
- outdoor living room, kegerator, and bee bee gun complete with targets including a TV, beer bottles, Sasha's leg on the roof of the Dustbin, the street lamp
- The PFM raid
- the many conversations where Sasha tried to convince me we should live in a cardboard box
- the Renn Fayre where ... well, maybe I won't write this one in case family should read it ... it was all about star trek
- a trip to new hampshire to visit Chiara where I told him he was driving too fast in the snow, and annoyed him to the point that he was very mad, so I shut up, then he slid in the snow and hit a rail, and was mad at me because I didn't I tell him he was going too fast :)
- once he accidentally punched himself in the face while fixing his motorcycle
- scrounging for food at the Reed cafeteria
- oh, the time I smashed up stuff on his motorcycle because he made me mad (let's just say he didn't view monogamy in the same way I did)
- the collage in the kitchen of the FBI house
- many nights of pool playing in the Reed pool hall
- a naked softball tournament
- many bike rides
- a fun trip to Mt. Tabor
- almost getting married at the 24 hour church of Elvis (in the eyes of Elvis, not of the state) but didn't because it was closed!
Sasha was Sasha and I was Katie. We worked well for a while, but I was always too safe and straight for him. He needed a woman with a spirit that was free like his. I could tell he wasn't happy and that was making me unhappy. We amicably parted ways in our early 20's and went our separate directions. Over the years, I ran into him now and again and got to hear of his adventures, crazy and wild. I could tell he thought my life was so boring, and he often chided me about it. That's okay, we were both happy.
Sasha, you are loved and you are missed. You touched my life and I am better for it. I wish I had a recording of the first Free Bird we heard Phish play. And even though it's very cliche...
If I leave here tomorrow
Would you still remember me?
For I must be travelling on, now,
'Cause there's too many places I've got to see.
But, if I stayed here with you, girl,
Things just couldn't be the same.
'Cause I'm as free as a bird now,
And this bird you can not change.
Lord knows, I can't change.
Bye, bye, its been a sweet love.
Though this feeling I can't change.
But please don't take it badly,
'Cause Lord knows I'm to blame.
But, if I stayed here with you girl,
Things just couldn't be the same.
Cause I'm as free as a bird now,
And this bird you'll never change.
And this bird you can not change.
Lord knows, I can't change.
Lord help me, I can't change.
There is a nice obituary here.
I met Sasha in high school, NCSSM. Oh, he was crazy and fun. He tended to be a bit too crazy for me and, in fact, got in some serious trouble at school. We hung out in the same crowd, but we weren't terribly close. Fast forward to college... I attended UNC for a time. My dorm roommate decided to live with her boyfriend instead of in the dorm, so I had a double room all to myself. At the time, Sasha was homeless, so I let him stay in the extra bed. I remember him having to break into the dorm by climbing the outside wall to get in when he came in after they locked the doors. I also remember combing out his dread locks (boy that took a lot of time and conditioner!) and braiding his hair into many, many braids. He wore his hair like that for a long time.
The following summer, I lived in an apartment in Chapel Hill with little Alex. Sasha and I were still just friends for a long time, until one friend (Susan) pointed out that we were in love. For some reason, I didn't realize it until she said it. After that, we were inseparable. I just remembered that I let Sasha pierce my belly button with a safety pin that summer! Oh, man, what was I thinking!
The next fall, Sasha went to Reed College in Portland, Oregon. I was so sad, but it is what he wanted to do. I stayed in Chapel Hill and worked and saved up my money. I was pretty miserable. In December, I made plans to move to Oregon to be with him. Looking back, I'm not completely sure he wanted me to come out, but, well, he didn't communicate that clearly and I did. I lived in his dorm room with him and ate whatever we could get our hands on. Mostly, we lived on potatoes. Our favorite was potato soup. I still have a burn on my hand from some soup popping out of the pot and landing on it. Oh, that hurt. Oh, yeah. We also used to eat free pizza. Dominoes had a stupid guarantee that if you weren't completely satisfied, you could get your money back, no questions. Seriously, how stupid is that?! Being quite young, we didn't really realize how unscrupulous our actions were, and we ate a LOT of free pizza.
The free pizza is what led to my tattoo, believe it or not. After the local Dominoes figured out that we were living on unsatisfactory free pizza, they started getting slower and slower at delivering our refunds. One night, there was some terrific party to go to. Of course, now I don't remember what was so terrific about it. Anyway, Sasha and Mike decided to leave me to wait for the refund and took off to the party. I waited for hours and got pretty mad. Somehow I ended up talking to Chiara who convinced me that what we needed were tattoos. Sasha had been saving up money for a tattoo of his own, and I was so mad that I took his tattoo money and hopped in the car with Chiara. When we arrived at the tattoo parlor, I studied the wall and said, "I want that one!" I pointed at an eye of Horus. Chiara got a black panther on her back. I got the eye on my right arm. When Sasha finally got home from the party, he was taken aback that I had done what I had done, but wasn't particularly mad that I had taken his money.
That spring break, we went on a bike ride to the Oregon coast, down the coast, and back to Portland. We didn't plan terribly well, but it was an adventure. We went with Mike and had a 2-man tent for the 3 of us! We had some milk crates strapped to the back of our bikes for our gear and food. The first night, we slept in a farmer's field. That was weird. The next night, we slept in a homeless shelter in Tillamook. We had planed to stay in the youth hostel, but it wasn't open for the season yet. Luckily, there aren't too many homeless people in Tillamook, so they had beds for us and we even got to do our laundry. The laundry was a nice perk since we had gotten rained on heavily on the trip from the farmer's field to Tillamook. I think that shelter must be one of the nicest in the US. It was a house, so it didn't have an institutional feel. We were allowed to cook what we wanted in the kitchen and watch TV in the living room. The next day, we headed down the coast, and ended up at Cape Lookout. There was a hiker/biker campground there, so we pitched our tent and stayed the night. During the night, some raccoons got into our gear and ate our food. We woke up HUNGRY! We tried to get a pizza place in Tillamook to deliver to us, since it was only about 10 miles away, but they wouldn't. I figure we had ruined our pizza karma with the Dominoes scam, so we deserved it. I don't remember what we ate, but obviously, we survived somehow. We went down the coast to Lincoln City and then headed back. I remember Sasha got a cold on the trip and had a runny nose. Once or twice while was biking behind him, he blew his nose "cowboy style". I was mad about the boogers flying back at me. He said sorry, genuinely seeming to not realize that boogers flying would be a consequence of the blow. Silly Sasha.
Oh, if I wrote of all the adventures we had and my memories of him, I would never stop writing:
- donuts in the camaro at Fish Lake
- following Phish and shouting Free Bird until one day they played it!
- the purple suede pants he wanted so bad and I worked so hard to save up for, and then didn't wear after he got them
- the stinky sweat socks he would wear for days even though he had other socks, but liked the look of the stinky ones
- we used to call him "Feets Clapper" because he was accident prone
- living in the basement of the Dustbin and listening to our crazy house mate talk to himself in the night (creepy!)
- making friends with the folks in the FBI house who turned out to be some of my best friends in the whole world
- outdoor living room, kegerator, and bee bee gun complete with targets including a TV, beer bottles, Sasha's leg on the roof of the Dustbin, the street lamp
- The PFM raid
- the many conversations where Sasha tried to convince me we should live in a cardboard box
- the Renn Fayre where ... well, maybe I won't write this one in case family should read it ... it was all about star trek
- a trip to new hampshire to visit Chiara where I told him he was driving too fast in the snow, and annoyed him to the point that he was very mad, so I shut up, then he slid in the snow and hit a rail, and was mad at me because I didn't I tell him he was going too fast :)
- once he accidentally punched himself in the face while fixing his motorcycle
- scrounging for food at the Reed cafeteria
- oh, the time I smashed up stuff on his motorcycle because he made me mad (let's just say he didn't view monogamy in the same way I did)
- the collage in the kitchen of the FBI house
- many nights of pool playing in the Reed pool hall
- a naked softball tournament
- many bike rides
- a fun trip to Mt. Tabor
- almost getting married at the 24 hour church of Elvis (in the eyes of Elvis, not of the state) but didn't because it was closed!
Sasha was Sasha and I was Katie. We worked well for a while, but I was always too safe and straight for him. He needed a woman with a spirit that was free like his. I could tell he wasn't happy and that was making me unhappy. We amicably parted ways in our early 20's and went our separate directions. Over the years, I ran into him now and again and got to hear of his adventures, crazy and wild. I could tell he thought my life was so boring, and he often chided me about it. That's okay, we were both happy.
Sasha, you are loved and you are missed. You touched my life and I am better for it. I wish I had a recording of the first Free Bird we heard Phish play. And even though it's very cliche...
If I leave here tomorrow
Would you still remember me?
For I must be travelling on, now,
'Cause there's too many places I've got to see.
But, if I stayed here with you, girl,
Things just couldn't be the same.
'Cause I'm as free as a bird now,
And this bird you can not change.
Lord knows, I can't change.
Bye, bye, its been a sweet love.
Though this feeling I can't change.
But please don't take it badly,
'Cause Lord knows I'm to blame.
But, if I stayed here with you girl,
Things just couldn't be the same.
Cause I'm as free as a bird now,
And this bird you'll never change.
And this bird you can not change.
Lord knows, I can't change.
Lord help me, I can't change.
Saturday, April 11, 2009
More evidence that germs are good
Probiotics may ease anxiety: Pilot study
I am much less anxious than I was a year ago. I started drinking kefir daily in January 2008. This may be a coincidence, of course, but whatever. I feel better, so something I am doing is working.
I am much less anxious than I was a year ago. I started drinking kefir daily in January 2008. This may be a coincidence, of course, but whatever. I feel better, so something I am doing is working.
Thursday, March 26, 2009
Proud of my chippie
Mick got written up in a fancy magazine. It was short, but great! He's already gotten a bunch of business from it. Their website has the text here.
Monday, March 23, 2009
People don't want jobs
Okay, so last week, I wrote a sappy post about how sad it was that people want jobs and can't get jobs, blah blah blah. Well, although I'm sure that there actually are people out there that want jobs that can't get jobs, it is now my opinion that most of those people don't want jobs. Here are some examples from my recent hiring experiences that illustrate this.
1) As I said, I got hundreds of email responses for the jobs I posted on craigslist. I really tried to be fair, and examined the emails in order of response and by qualifications. There was one email that had attachments in a format I couldn't open. Since she was one of the very first respondents, I emailed the applicant, asking her to resend with the attachments in a different format. SHE NEVER WROTE BACK.
2) I called one woman in for an interview. She was 15 minutes late, saying her boyfriend had hurt his foot and that she had to take him to the doctor. OK. I gave her the benefit of the doubt and scheduled her for a training shift. She called 15 minutes before the shift, saying she would be a few minutes late. Not good, but I was willing to give her a chance. She arrived 40 minutes late (not really a few minutes!), saying her boyfriend had hurt his foot and she needed to take him to the doctor. I let her go.
3) I called several people in for interviews who said they couldn't make it on the weekend because they were going to see bands.
4) One woman did a no show, no call to her interview.
5) I interviewed one woman. She seemed okay, so I called her in for a training shift. She said she didn't want the job because she could earn more on unemployment. WHAT? I posted the wage/hour on the add. I was up front about tips/tip sharing on the phone when I called her. She did not want a job. She wants to sit on the couch earning unemployment. I WANT TO SIT ON THE COUCH, too.
6) We have one training employee who is apparently needing money really badly. However, when asked if he could work a certain shift, he was going to see a band.
I am disillusioned and exasperated.
1) As I said, I got hundreds of email responses for the jobs I posted on craigslist. I really tried to be fair, and examined the emails in order of response and by qualifications. There was one email that had attachments in a format I couldn't open. Since she was one of the very first respondents, I emailed the applicant, asking her to resend with the attachments in a different format. SHE NEVER WROTE BACK.
2) I called one woman in for an interview. She was 15 minutes late, saying her boyfriend had hurt his foot and that she had to take him to the doctor. OK. I gave her the benefit of the doubt and scheduled her for a training shift. She called 15 minutes before the shift, saying she would be a few minutes late. Not good, but I was willing to give her a chance. She arrived 40 minutes late (not really a few minutes!), saying her boyfriend had hurt his foot and she needed to take him to the doctor. I let her go.
3) I called several people in for interviews who said they couldn't make it on the weekend because they were going to see bands.
4) One woman did a no show, no call to her interview.
5) I interviewed one woman. She seemed okay, so I called her in for a training shift. She said she didn't want the job because she could earn more on unemployment. WHAT? I posted the wage/hour on the add. I was up front about tips/tip sharing on the phone when I called her. She did not want a job. She wants to sit on the couch earning unemployment. I WANT TO SIT ON THE COUCH, too.
6) We have one training employee who is apparently needing money really badly. However, when asked if he could work a certain shift, he was going to see a band.
I am disillusioned and exasperated.
Tuesday, March 17, 2009
Sad times
The other day I posted a help-wanted add on craigslist for a couple of minimum wage jobs. I had heard that we would get a lot of responses, so I stated very clearly that applicants should only email and not stop in. I couldn't imagine how we would handle that many applicants while trying to run the restaurant.
Within a couple of hours, I had received about 100 emails from people looking for work. After 24 hours, I had over 400. I read/skimmed about 1/2 of the applications. Most of the people were very over-qualified for the jobs. They had worked in high-end restaurants, knew their wines and what forks to use. The people in our restaurant are lucky if they get forks (just kidding)! Many of the people were college degree holders with their most recent positions not in the restaurant industry, and were falling back on their previous restaurant experiences to get ANY job.
I was really touched by this. There are so many people looking for work; it's really sad. The unemployment rate in Oregon is 10.5% now. One in every 10 people wishes they had a job.
Within a couple of hours, I had received about 100 emails from people looking for work. After 24 hours, I had over 400. I read/skimmed about 1/2 of the applications. Most of the people were very over-qualified for the jobs. They had worked in high-end restaurants, knew their wines and what forks to use. The people in our restaurant are lucky if they get forks (just kidding)! Many of the people were college degree holders with their most recent positions not in the restaurant industry, and were falling back on their previous restaurant experiences to get ANY job.
I was really touched by this. There are so many people looking for work; it's really sad. The unemployment rate in Oregon is 10.5% now. One in every 10 people wishes they had a job.
Saturday, March 7, 2009
Saturday, February 28, 2009
Dumb crook
Yesterday, in the wee hours of the morning, Mick's cell phone rang. This couldn't be good. Middle of the night calls usually mean that the freezer has gone down (i.e. ice cream melting) or an alarm sensor has been triggered. This time, however, it was the Porltand police calling to let us know someone had smashed in the front window of the fish and chip shop to break in. We rushed down there and found this:
We always leave the cash drawer open so that if a crook breaks in, and wants the small amount of money left in the drawer, they can take the money without breaking the cash register. This crook was apparently too dumb to realize that the drawer was open. He worked really hard for the $30 he made off with. First of all, he spent about 20 minutes banging on the window trying to break it. Here's pictures of the rocks he brought to do the job.
After breaking the window, the crook went though the window and to the cash register. Apparently not noticing that the drawer was open, he moved some shelves so that he could unplug the register, and then, dropping money all over the place, went back through the window with the register. At that point, he must have realized that the drawer was open, because he left the register on the sidewalk and took the money he hadn't dropped all over the shop. He must have guessed that the doors were alarmed because he didn't open any doors.
A neighbor heard the banging and called the police. Unfortunately, the officers that are usually nearby were in different spots dealing with other situations. By the time they made it, the crook had gotten away. The police said that we should put a sign in the window that says "No cash on premises overnight" because it actually prevents these types of crimes. I put one up.
Luckily, we were able to get the mess cleaned up and the window replaced before opening time.
We always leave the cash drawer open so that if a crook breaks in, and wants the small amount of money left in the drawer, they can take the money without breaking the cash register. This crook was apparently too dumb to realize that the drawer was open. He worked really hard for the $30 he made off with. First of all, he spent about 20 minutes banging on the window trying to break it. Here's pictures of the rocks he brought to do the job.
After breaking the window, the crook went though the window and to the cash register. Apparently not noticing that the drawer was open, he moved some shelves so that he could unplug the register, and then, dropping money all over the place, went back through the window with the register. At that point, he must have realized that the drawer was open, because he left the register on the sidewalk and took the money he hadn't dropped all over the shop. He must have guessed that the doors were alarmed because he didn't open any doors.
A neighbor heard the banging and called the police. Unfortunately, the officers that are usually nearby were in different spots dealing with other situations. By the time they made it, the crook had gotten away. The police said that we should put a sign in the window that says "No cash on premises overnight" because it actually prevents these types of crimes. I put one up.
Luckily, we were able to get the mess cleaned up and the window replaced before opening time.
Thursday, February 26, 2009
Little Ramsey
If you like Gordon Ramsey, you will love this. The kid's a dead ringer! I can't believe a little kid says the F-word so many times.
Thursday, February 19, 2009
Postive and Negative
Helping to run Mick's fish and chip shop has really opened my eyes to human nature. Unfortunately, what I have discovered is that people are much more motivated to say something when they are mad than when they are happy.
We have many, many happy customers in the shop every week. I can tell from their smiles and the "yummy" noises they make when eating, from their cheery "see you next times," from their repeat business, and from their massive tips. However, there are the unhappy ones. Unfortunately, we haven't always been able to keep up with the increasing numbers of customers and the wait times have gotten out of control at times. Understandably, people are upset after having waited an hour for their food, and at that point are so grumpy that they expect food from heaven at a fish and chip shop. We're trying to get better at keeping up with the crowds and more accurately communicating wait times, so at least people know what to expect (or opt out).
We hardly ever hear from the happy customers, maybe a couple of phone calls and emails. However, we hear quite a bit from the unhappy ones in the form of phone calls, emails, and online anonymous reviews. For example, right now I am in an email correspondence with a woman who wants a full refund on her family's meal ($31) because the fish doesn't come with chips; you have to order it separately. She feels that we were trying to somehow deceive her. She is also demanding that we lower our prices. Oh, and our portions are too small. AND ON AND ON. All the while, she is comparing our food and restaurant to a large corporate chain. Seriously, if you want frozen, pre-prepared fish and chips and a restaurant with a lot of crap on the walls, go to the chain. I won't mind.
I realized that I have this tendency, too. I have eaten at many restaurants and have been quite happy but have never called or written to let them know I am happy. The few times I have communicated is when I am mad about something (of course, I complain about something more substantial than fish coming with chips, for example, a roided-out waiter screaming at me). I plan to try to change my behavior from now on. It's important to communicate the positive as well as the negative. Let's make the world a better place, shall we?
We have many, many happy customers in the shop every week. I can tell from their smiles and the "yummy" noises they make when eating, from their cheery "see you next times," from their repeat business, and from their massive tips. However, there are the unhappy ones. Unfortunately, we haven't always been able to keep up with the increasing numbers of customers and the wait times have gotten out of control at times. Understandably, people are upset after having waited an hour for their food, and at that point are so grumpy that they expect food from heaven at a fish and chip shop. We're trying to get better at keeping up with the crowds and more accurately communicating wait times, so at least people know what to expect (or opt out).
We hardly ever hear from the happy customers, maybe a couple of phone calls and emails. However, we hear quite a bit from the unhappy ones in the form of phone calls, emails, and online anonymous reviews. For example, right now I am in an email correspondence with a woman who wants a full refund on her family's meal ($31) because the fish doesn't come with chips; you have to order it separately. She feels that we were trying to somehow deceive her. She is also demanding that we lower our prices. Oh, and our portions are too small. AND ON AND ON. All the while, she is comparing our food and restaurant to a large corporate chain. Seriously, if you want frozen, pre-prepared fish and chips and a restaurant with a lot of crap on the walls, go to the chain. I won't mind.
I realized that I have this tendency, too. I have eaten at many restaurants and have been quite happy but have never called or written to let them know I am happy. The few times I have communicated is when I am mad about something (of course, I complain about something more substantial than fish coming with chips, for example, a roided-out waiter screaming at me). I plan to try to change my behavior from now on. It's important to communicate the positive as well as the negative. Let's make the world a better place, shall we?
Thursday, February 5, 2009
Monday, February 2, 2009
You need a butter crock
So, what is a butter crock? It's a container with butter in it upside down in another container with water in it. The point is that you can keep butter at room temperature for extended periods of time (30 days) without it going rancid. Another benefit is that it prevents your cat from eating the butter while you are not looking. This is the one that I have. I got it from target.com for about $10.
The metal part contains the butter and the water keeps air from getting to it. See?
It's lovely. You must get one. Then you must make bread and put some butter on it.
The metal part contains the butter and the water keeps air from getting to it. See?
It's lovely. You must get one. Then you must make bread and put some butter on it.
Good Review
Mick's fish and chip shop got a good review. I'm happy because he's finally getting the restaurant to the point that it can almost run itself, which means Mick can rest a little during the day instead of working 14 hour days 7 days a week.
Monday, January 19, 2009
Wind
It's been sunny here in Portland, which is unusual. It has also been really windy, with wind gusts up to 40 mph. On Saturday morning, I heard a loud noise and went to investigate.
I found that this piece of fence had been blown over and was less than an inch from breaking a window. Luckily, its fall was broken by a table. The table did not survive, but I am glad we didn't end up with a broken window. Oh, the piece of fence was not posted into the ground; it was just left over from when we fenced off part of our yard.
I found that this piece of fence had been blown over and was less than an inch from breaking a window. Luckily, its fall was broken by a table. The table did not survive, but I am glad we didn't end up with a broken window. Oh, the piece of fence was not posted into the ground; it was just left over from when we fenced off part of our yard.
Thursday, January 8, 2009
Quite the compliment
A funny thing happened at Mick's new fish and chip shop today. Apparently, a city bus driver stopped the bus in the middle of the street (not at a stop and blocking traffic!) and ran in and grabbed a take-out menu. He later called from his route to place an order that he said he would pick up at exactly 1:45. At 1:45, he again stopped the bus in the middle of the street to run out and grab his dinner. Boy, I hope he doesn't get fired.
Monday, January 5, 2009
I tried, I really did
Mentaljr came over and spent the night with us Christmas Eve, and stayed for Christmas dinner. While I didn't necessarily expect him to dress up, I didn't expect him to dress down quite so much. He wore black sweatpants (which, by the way, are the only pants I've seen him wear since he left home), a ratty thermal shirt with several large holes in it, the hooded sweatshirt that he pumps gas in (his job), and a very dirty hat that was covering hair that didn't look like it had been washed in quite some time. He also did not bring a toothbrush. I gave him a little bit of a hard time about not bringing a toothbrush, but let the outfit go by, since it was Christmas and all.
So, the other day mentaljr stopped by Mick's new fish and chip restaurant to get some food. When he walked in, I cringed because he really looked homeless. He was very dirty and was pretty much wearing the same outfit he had on at Christmas. I noticed the ratty thermal shirt underneath his T-shirt, noticed how dirty it looked, and asked him, "Have you been wearing that shirt since Christmas?" His sheepish look told me he had. Sigh. Then, while waiting for his food, he loudly proclaimed that he was saving money by not bathing very often. As he did, I noted that he hadn't been brushing his teeth. Let's just say that if it's obvious from a distance, it's been a while. Sigh. I swear, I really tried to teach him basic grooming.
So, the other day mentaljr stopped by Mick's new fish and chip restaurant to get some food. When he walked in, I cringed because he really looked homeless. He was very dirty and was pretty much wearing the same outfit he had on at Christmas. I noticed the ratty thermal shirt underneath his T-shirt, noticed how dirty it looked, and asked him, "Have you been wearing that shirt since Christmas?" His sheepish look told me he had. Sigh. Then, while waiting for his food, he loudly proclaimed that he was saving money by not bathing very often. As he did, I noted that he hadn't been brushing his teeth. Let's just say that if it's obvious from a distance, it's been a while. Sigh. I swear, I really tried to teach him basic grooming.
Cringing
Maybe don't let your children watch this. I have no idea why she would do that and how she isn't crying.
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