The First Cut Is the Deepest....

I like mowing my lawn. (Before you ask—no. I would not like mowing your lawn. Anything I'm about to say here applies to my lawn, and my lawn only.)

Ahem. I like mowing my lawn. Today I got home from work a bit early; the sun was shining; I was eating an ice cream cone; and I thought to myself, I'd like to mow the lawn! Admittedly, the urge to mow probably had something to do with the fact that I've got two 10-12 page papers due in the next two days.... But still, I hadn't mowed yet this spring, so it was a positive impulse and I felt I should act on it.

When I say lawn, by the way, I mean "lawn" in the loosest sense of the word. My lawn is made up of 25% shady fescue grass, 40% violets and ground ivy, 5% dandelions, 20% undesireable grass, 9% peculiar unidentified weeds, and 1% lovely little wildflowers which I feel guilty if I accidentally mow over them. Trillium, solomon's seal, virginia bluebell, spiderwort—all tiny, colorful blobs of guilt. So mowing can be kind of an adventure. After mowing for fun and profit last summer at the Zoo, I got accustomed to perfectly green, thick turf; mowed it in different striped patterns each week, just like the guys on the baseball fields, all of it very mathematically precise, neat, and trim. My yard, on the other hand, cannot be mowed in stripes because of the profusion of large trees. The patterns are marred by my occasional swerves around the trillium. And "perfectly green" and "thick" are not words we'd use to describe the fescue/violet/weed mixture. Still, when all's said and done, and it's all evenly cut and smelling nice and looking sharp with little dots of violet still showing here and there.... Ahhhh. Does a body good! Papers, schmapers...

some might say...

Some might say it’s odd that i get along with my ex’s current Significant Other. Frankly, I find it a little odd myself... There are times when i find it very difficult to be around the two of them together. But then there are also times like Saturday night, when I took Ex and the C.S.O. out to the bars to celebrate CSO’s 21st birthday:

(in my driveway, preparing to leave)
EX: Cathy, you should show (CSO) the ‘Stang!

ME: Err...sure, if you’d like to see it..... (opens garage to reveal bright red 1965 Mustang v-6 Coupe, driven only on special occasions.)

CSO: Oh. My. God.

ME: (shyly) You like it?

CSO: If there’s ever any errands I could run for you, in this car, like if you wanted coffee or something and you didn’t have time to go get it yourself...

EX: You’d be her bitch?

CSO: I would SO be your coffee bitch.

Seriously, how can I dislike her? She’d be my coffee bitch. Hee hee hee....

The Right Loses Ground...

Right brain that is--though it's been a bad week for the political right as well. While I didn't actually watch the president's press conference, I did read the transcript (scary) and saw a photo of his tie (even scarier. who dressed him? it's like the secret identity hypno-tie from The Tick...) I swear, sometimes I almost think the conspiracy theorists have it right--else how does someone who is so bad at thinking on his feet get to be the leader of the most powerful nation in the world? Whether you love him or hate him, that Q and A sure didn't make him look good.

I'm sorry, what were we talking about? Oh yeah, my brain. After a look at the bank balance--dismal!--and a ride to and from work yesterday on the old bike with the new cushy non-orange seat, I've decided to stick to what I know for a while yet. At least til I know if I've got a new job. Second interview Monday, at long last. I'm in financial crisis mode at the moment not just because my cash inflow is poor, but because I'm going to a conference in early May and have been unable to secure funding assistance from either my school or from the Association of Midwest Museums, to whom I applied for a scholarship back in February. So I may be eating the $250 in registration fees and $300+ in airfare myself. Plus health insurance, plus mortgage...makes May an ugly month for me... So no new bike for me yet. I'll be lucky if I can afford a shellacked carrot.*

*see previous comments field. sheesh! my response to your suggestions is finally posted....

Wheels'n'Deals

It begins to look as if, one way or another, I’ll be working in White River State Park for at least part of the summer. I can get there by bike in 45 minutes, entirely on scenic bike paths; so I’ve begun to think about biking to work. (Never mind that, if I’m working at the zoo again this summer, the odds of my feeling like biking home after pushing a lawnmower for 8 hours in Indiana heat and humidity are approximately zilch. I’ve never generated so much sweat in my life.... First purchase for Gardens work this summer will be a water bottle with a belt-hook. Second will be a pair of steel-toe tennis shoes, hopefully made with more comfort in mind than my trusty-yet-painful Wolverines from last year. But I digress.)

Anyway, so thoughts of biking naturally lead to the thought of buying a new bike. My old bike is a black Schwinn “World” 10-speed, purchased in 1984 for my fourteenth birthday present. It was one of those defining childhood moments--a grownup bike, and I got to pick it out myself at Mac’s Broad Ripple Bicycle Shop. I test drove it. I may have even kicked the tires. It was a big deal; it was my first taste of transportational freedom. I still have a very clear memory of my first trip to the McDonalds at 96th and Meridian, independent of parental conveyance.... so the thought of buying a new bike brings a tear to my eye. But nostalgia aside, the seat is harder than a rock and bruises the hell out of my butt. So I went to the bike store to look around, and the two halves of my brain discussed our options.

RIGHT BRAIN: We should get a new bike!

LEFT BRAIN: We should carefully examine our options, read up on different brands, do some web research, and--

RIGHT BRAIN: I like this one!

LEFT BRAIN: Wait--

RIGHT BRAIN: It’s orange!

LEFT BRAIN: Think for a minute. You want to spend $350, which I remind you we don’t actually have, on a Trek Adventure 4000, just because it’s orange.

RIGHT BRAIN: It’s orange! And shiny! We should buy it.

LEFT BRAIN: That’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard.

RIGHT BRAIN: You said that when we bought the iMac, too.

LEFT BRAIN: Sigh....True ‘dat.

In the end, I bought a new cushy seat for the Schwinn for $25 instead. But....mmm....orange Trek Adventure 4000....mmmm.....It could happen.

STOMP. STOMP. STOMP.

With the success of the previous quiz, I decided I'd better try Ravenblack's other offerings before moving on with the blog. Check me out:

I am Kong. Strong and passionate, I tend to be misunderstood, sometimes even feared. I don't want to fight, I don't want to cause trouble, all I ask is a little love, and a little peace. If I don't get what I want, I get angry, and throw barrels and flaming oil at whatever's stopping me. What Pre-1985 Video Game Character Are You?

I am a Fedora. The hat of the adventurous, I am spontaneous and active, perhaps sometimes a little foolishly. Regardless, I always come out alright. What Sort of Hat Are You?

I am the sonnet, never quickly thrilled; Not prone to overstated gushing praise Nor yet to seething rants and anger, filled With overstretched opinions to rephrase; But on the other hand, not fond of fools, And thus, not fond of people, on the whole; And holding to the sound and useful rules, Not those that seek unjustified control. I'm balanced, measured, sensible (at least, I think I am, and usually I'm right); And when more ostentatious types have ceased, I'm still around, and doing, still, alright. In short, I'm calm and rational and stable - Or, well, I am, as much as I am able. What Poetry Form Are You?

This very well may be the best quiz site ever. (Oh, and my backups were tomato, "Jet-Pack Man," whoever that was, a transparent visor, and a haiku.)

Mmmm.....Beefy.....

I swear, these quizzes just get stranger and stranger.

I taste like Beef. I taste like beef. I'm probably made of beef. You are what you eat, they say, and if the title didn't mean something else, I would be a beefeater. I think red meat is good for you. Puts hair on your chest. What Flavour Are You?

What can I say? I'm what's for dinner.