Feeling the Pressure

February 14, 2018

This morning, in an uncharacteristic fit of wanting to accomplish things, I started my day at the local gas station, trying to inflate my tires (or "tyres" if you're British), which is just everyone's favourite task ever, am I right? (snort) My tires were looking sad AF and I'd been procrastinating doing it for ages, because oh my god, so boring.

I realized I hadn't put air in the things since 2015. Did I hear a collective gasp of horror? Last time I inflated the tires I proceeded to drive 2,000 KM over prairies and mountains on them, and I've been driving on them ever since. The tires I mean, not the mountains.

Anyway, I'd just got this funky new pressure gauge with a digital light up screen and everything, better than the old pencil gauge I used to have that you couldn't even read the markings on so you had to pretty much just fervently hope that you didn't make anything over-inflate, explode, and blow your head off. Surely that kind of thing happens every day! Dramatic? Me?

To make matters worse, a gale was blowing my hair all around my head like temperamental hairy flames, while all that bending over was making my jeans sag and giving me an attractive builders butt crack. And of course, the air compressor quit as I was on the last tire. THE LAST TIRE. I'm pretty sure it's programmed to do this. You bastards. I wasn't coughing up another buck for one tire either so I gave it the invisible middle finger and hoped I'd gotten enough air in there before it stopped.

After this feat of endurance, I got some groceries to make a peach cobbler, procured a cup of coffee and drove down to the waterfront to drink it before driving home to commence workage. It was kind of half stormy, half nice out, look! Sorry about the angle, I was dangling precariously over the sea wall looking at all that driftwood.

Now I never once claimed this entry was interesting. So you can just shut up.

Star Trek Aliens, Wine, And Rockets

February 8, 2018

Social media keeps insisting I should be sending cute videos and photo collages to everyone I know for "Friends' Day" which...come on. That's not a real thing! That's just a "Why not use our service more to let your friends know you're thinking of them, otherwise you're a uncaring, insubstantial, failure of a human being" type of ploy. It's a lame Facebook thing. I don't play that game, FB, you suck.

Besides, every day is friends' day, fuckers.

I hate when the internet tries to tell you how to live. Or suggest people I might want to add to my Instagram feed. By actually adding them into my Instagram feed with a giant, blue follow button next to them. If I wanted to see goddamn Kardashians on my Instagram, they'd be there, already, and I'd have undergone a lobotomy. Good lord. Stop it and get off of my feed.

Besides, I'd rather add Cardassians. True. Hi Gul Dukat!

I'm cranky. And 90. And not nearly caffeinated enough to deal with this madness.

Who else watched the SpaceX launch of its Falcon Heavy rockets the other day? I watched it live, as it ignited a volatile bunch of highly versatile explosives under a fake dude and a real car, launching them up into space, to orbit the Sun and possibly Mars and whatever else, for millennia. It was mesmerizing. I love space things, and found the whole thing thrilling and emotional and amazing.

And then a bit creepy, because seeing an astronaut in a sports car, floating in open space while the Earth, the size of a basketball hung behind him, was just....spooky. Awesome, but spooky. Hope you're enjoying the views from the asteroid belt, Starman, wherever you are now, you creepy bastard.

What else? I have been out of wine for days. Weeks even. I have had one bottle of wine this year so far, and quite frankly I'm underwhelmed by the experience of not having a lovely fruity glass of something awaiting in the evening a couple of days a week. Especially since I read a thing the other day on the webz (and we all know everything you see online is true, right?) that suggested that women (not dudes, just ladies) who drink 2 glasses of wine a night, saw huge health benefits overall. It also helped weight loss. For real. 2 glasses of wine (not 1 and not 3 however) turned your bad fat into better fat and made it easier to burn off. I admit I skimmed but hey, if drinking wine makes your thinner, think of all the pizza I can now eat that I didn't dare before? See! ("Um...I'm not sure it works that way" - Everyone else)

Oh yeah. Happy Friends' Day. Whenever that is/was.

Happy New Year. Or is it?

Is there some reason I have the theme song for "Cheers" inside my head 1,440 minutes a day? Because there's a reason people become serial killers.

Well, winter is in full swing here, with some grey, rainy doom making me want to work in my fuzzy pajamas and drink coffee all day long. You might argue that is me most days, but you'd be only partially right, I WEAR REAL PANTS THANK YOU. Oops, yelling.

Then the next day arrives, where the sun shines and everything is beautiful and you get all smug and gloaty, before the following day when it decides to be all  rain again to teach your smug self a lesson.

But it's 2018 finally, and while we might not yet have our flying cars and no poverty and free food and wine, it does at least mean that 2017 is a distant, blurry nightmare, fading in the rear view mirror. That has to be a good thing, right? Can we just pretend it didn't happen?

While we're (vaguely) on the subject though, flying cars are a terrible idea. I mean how would you even police that?

In the worst segue ever to exist, we have a Phillips Hue bulb in our office here, so I can make it orange, or pink, or any other color I feel like, and it honestly, really helps make the place feel cosy and lovely against all the grey outside. Also I can do that thing where you make the light bright red and dim so the outside world thinks you're living in a brothel. I mean who doesn't want that?

Other than this, January is all about sitting around filling the time with semi-interesting things to make February arrive faster. And February is, at least, short. So there's that. Then it's spring and real life can commence again.

In case it's cold, snowy, rainy, or grey in whatever shithole country you are in [(c) Trump 2018], please enjoy this photo from yesterday, when it was gorgeous here and not the depressing mess it is today.

You are most welcome.

Tripping My Face Off - Part Two

Well. This is the second part of my photo-trip post from months ago, so don't say I don't keep my promises. I may take the scenic route but I get there eventually.

Our little ten state jaunt moved from prickly, hot Arizona, into New Mexico, my favourite of the states. It really is. The food's great, the weather's great, the buildings are awesome, the scenery's amazing...what's not to like?! Okay, the people are a little sketchy I give you that.  I'm so kidding. Jesus, chill out people.

We had a quick stop in Old Mesilla, near Las Cruces, where I had a stroll around and took this. Because why not?

We stayed the night at the best little B&B dead on the New Mexico/Texas border. The place was gorgeous and rustic. I mean our room had a patio and the door looked like this:

It was in the most confusing area I've ever encountered. You'd be driving along happily in NM one minute, then ten seconds later you'd be in Texas, then ten more seconds and you're back in New Mexico again. Insanity! The B&B was in a rural suburb of El Paso, but in New Mexico. I don't know man, my head hurt from all the geography. Anyway, it was wonderful. Quiet, beautiful, no other guests, patio overlooking the lights of El Paso and Mexico in the distance. 

We went for a little evening drive to look at the scenic, panoramic view of El Paso, and Mexico's lovely Ciudad Juarez - Murder Capital of the World, as I'm sure it would like to use as its official slogan.

The big, red X marks the border on the Mexican side 

It was a great view and a nice drive, although some maniac Texan in a truck terrified us by swerving all over the place about three feet behind us on the windy, mountain road, like he was driving a race-car right up our collective ass. Fuck off, guy.

Yes, I did get a Texas sign, thanks for asking!

A more accurate slogan would be "Driving like our pants are full of bees"

Anyway, from here, the following day, we drove up to Alamagordo, NM, which isn't especially pretty, but IS especially near the White Sands Missile Base (and National Monument) where I have always wanted to go, so we did! And it was awesome. Imagine a blue sky and a white. snowy landscape, only it's hot as hell and it's sand. 

Right??? Crappy phone panoramas for the win.

It was amazing that you could even walk barefoot on it without getting burned, because SCIENCE. (gypsum) It was beautiful. Look!

White Sands Road Pic

This was the picnic area.

Awesome.

Anyway, we had two days to troll around the area being amazed by all that white, and trying not to lose our car, which is also white (see above). We're not very smart.

From White Sands we headed through some stunning countryside, to the elusive place we've never been although we've often been close, geek and conspiracy theorists worldwide worship at the feet of - Roswell. Home of the famous "did it or didn't it happen?" alien cover-up of 1947. I've always wanted to go to Roswell because I love anything alien related and well, Roswell is the king of alien.

Now if you thought that maybe Roswell in 2017 wasn't all that impressed by the whole alien folklore thing surrounding it, well. Wouldn't YOU be wrong. 

Roswell embraced the cheese like cheese was going out of style. 

Need a tow, guy?

Yeah, Roswell was totally down with the alien thing. We went to the UFO museum because of course we did. Who would drive an hour out of their way to a town in the middle of nowhere and not do that? An idiot. We saw this obviously real alien autopsy thing.

Call me old fashioned, but that does not look sanitary for surgery...

The museum was filled with alien related goodness and newspaper articles from 1947, and paintings and displays and well....this, which I only captured the end of as I was too busy being startled!

You're welcome.

Roswell dealt with, we headed to Santa Fe - maybe my favourite American city. Like of all of them. The pueblo style buildings, the climate, the food. It's just fantastic. I mean look at these buildings.

And look at that food! Veggie-sausage burrito with green chili.

I mean there are so many buildings look like that. It's beautiful. Sigh. I want to go back to there. I won't bore you with photos, just know it's magical and nowhere else can ever achieve that level of greatness. 

We also headed up to Taos for a day trip as it's another beautiful little town, and it was lovely as always.

I don't know who those people are but thanks for being my props

I bought some NM loot to bring home with me.

We had lunch, and a particularly messy chocolate croissant, in Los Alamos, one day. Los Alamos is best known as the birthplace of the atomic bomb, which I'm not sure is something that needs to be celebrated, but is still impressive. I'd listened to Richard Feynman's TED talk before we left on the trip, so I was more determined than ever to go back to Los Alamos and see the town more. You have to go through actual government checkpoints to even get into the middle of the town where the National Laboratory is, they're pretty serious about security. 

...And some pretty good pastries!

View from Los Alamos

Where sorrow is born.

We actually were heading up to Bandelier National Monument and the Valles Caldera for the afternoon, so we left Los Alamos and off we went. Sorry if you were expecting some sort of revelation or a detour. The countryside around there is just so scenic and magnificent. New Mexico is splendid. Did I just say "splendid"? Because I'm the Queen or something.

Up on the Valles Caldera it looked something like this:

It was just miles of grasslands and hills for days. So gorgeous, unlike this hokey phone panorama. 

Also, while driving down the dirt road onto the Caldera, we passed Sheriff Longmire's Bronco going the other way. For real! Turns out it was the last day of filming on that show and they were everywhere we went. All afternoon we were tripping over film trucks and police cars, fake and real! I was stoked. I love me some "Longmire". Did I get any photos of all this? OF COURSE NOT. Plus I was scared someone would tell me off. Anyway if you watch the show, Longmire's cabin is down to the upper left of that photo. You can kind of make out the film crew in this crappy road pic in the distance.

After a few days in Santa Fe, we were on the start of the long journey home, through Colorado, Utah, Nevada, Idaho, Oregon, and Washington. That's a lot of pass through states, but since I've been to all of them before, that was ok.

We did drive on the Million Dollar Highway in Colorado for the first time, which was AMAZING and made me almost pee my yearly quota right in my pants, in terror on some spots. I was too anxious to take photos until it was tame again. I strongly urge you to drive that road if you're ever anywhere near. 

Here's a NORMAL Colorado mountain road when I had stopped shaking.

Phew!

We stopped at Black Canyon of the Gunnison National Park, which is a thing! That I'd never heard of! And it was wonderful. No photos can possibly convey how great that view was. I don't know why I even tried. But here it is anyway.

Pretty soon we were in Utah, where we saw the Great Salt Lake.

I mean it was from the car, but we saw it!

And on to the Bonneville Salt Flats where the land speed records are recorded. We went there last time we were in the area and it was flooded and in the middle of some sort of monsoon. This time was much more agreeable even if I was picking salt out of my sandals for weeks.

So empty and cool.

The rest of the trip was a fast drive through rural Idaho, Oregon, and into Washington where I said hello to Mount Rainier.

Ooooh pretty!?

What sort of in-bred, toothless nut doesn't enjoy a snow topped mountain, huh?

And that was a suitably fun way to end a trip! It was a monster for sure. The trip, not the mountain, although...it is pretty big!

I know you were all waiting on tenterhooks for this update. No?

No.

Have Yourself a Cherry Little Mistmas

December 22nd, 2017

It's three days until Christmas.

I like Christmas. I'm not a religious person at all, in fact, at this point I'm pretty sure if I so much as set foot inside a church I'd burst into flames on the spot, while terrified priests set about sprinkling holy water and hail marys and exorcisms like confetti.

My love for Christmas, however, holds no religious significance, and is more about reflection and relaxation and food and tree lights and joy. I mean, so long as we all end up in the same mellow mental place over the holiday, who cares? You have Jesus, I have gin and tonic. We're all happy.

Merry Christmas!

I don't feel all that christmassy though. I mean, it's been pretty sunny all week, until today, and I haven't worn a coat at all this winter yet. Today's forecast is threatening weekend snow so maybe I'll have to crank up the old Bing Crosby version of "White Christmas" and try to get motivated in the mood department.

Actually, my favourite Christmas song I think, is Rosemary Clooney's version of "Have Yourself A Merry Little Christmas". I don't know why, it's just perfect. Until you've had seventeen tequila shots that is, then it's "Feliz Navidad" because it's the law.

Whatever you're doing for your festive time, whatever holiday you celebrate or if you just have a nice meal somewhere and contemplate, I hope you have a good one and that you are happy. There's only one law at Christmas, and really it should be your law all year round - 'don't be a dick'. There you go.

And remember, don't eat the yellow snow.

Short Rant About Net Neutrality or Not

December 18th, 2017

Wow, start kissing your freedom goodbye, America. Wait, you already did when you elected that demented orange demon, president. Now, as if that wasn't excruciating enough, your Internets are going to be controlled by corporations who can charge you extra for your Facebooking and your Netflixing and all that nonsense, while making themselves richer and more like the big, proud, evil Dementors they've always tried to hide, but soon won't have to.

Net neutrality was arguably the most important debate in years because it affects everyone. You know that big, free, online world full of possibility and promise and equality? That's probably not happening any more thanks to these ridiculous asshats who took a bribe....wait, I'm sorry...a DONATION...in order to sell you out to the corporations. I mean you can still HAVE your Internet. You just are going to eventually have to pay way more for it, to the likes of Comcast - the upper echelon of so much evil they should probably just put horns on their logo.

Here's hoping this whole ridiculousness is overturned and we can return the Internet to whom it belongs. ME. So I can write crap like this and get back to calling Fuhrer Trump a huge ginger, donkey and not giving a damn.

Actually, I'm doing a huge disservice to donkeys. Sorry donkeys.

The Post That Wasn't

December 11th, 2017

What are Wednesday nights for if not lighting some candles, opening some wine, and watching some fetching gentlemen kill demons in a "Supernatural" marathon of my own making? This was a rhetorical question.

Hi. The weather is still cooperating which is much appreciated and I will now pray in deference to the Sun gods. It's so nice for it to be December, therefore winter, yet no one seems to have told them. Even the Olympic mountains don't seem to have any snow on them. I'm not wearing a coat yet, just a sweater. What is this new, fragrant heaven?

Yesterday I made a custard pie as anyone who's seen me on Instagram knows, since I boasted about it earlier. It did not suck! It wasn't the best either, truthfully, as it sunk a little in the middle in some sort of sad, eggy defeat, but it was adequate and it tasted fantastic with a little cinnamon and browned sugar on top. Oh yes. Custard pies are so very British, I'm not sure anyone else appreciates them. Here's my pie (which is a sentence I never want to type again)

Shut up, it was good.

My next attempt at a pie is going to be an Atlantic Ocean Beach Pie which is actually a thing in the Carolinas (I believe) and is a creamy lemon pie with a saltine cracker crust. Seriously. That is a real actual thing. And it belongs in mah belleh. Salty and lemony? Sign me up.

My garbage pick up guys are making me mad today. Twice now they've refused to take my kitchen scraps. Turns out, kitchen biodegradable bags and kitchen compostable bags are two TOTALLY different things and I was using one instead of the other. Sigh. Why is life so hard? That is why wine exists.

Cheers.