Dreams and Things
Last night I slept through the night. I figured out that giving Archie a hot toddy milk really conks him out and he’ll sleep and sleep and sleep. Also he’s been sleeping in a sleeping bag on the floor for the past week. He wants this and can’t wait to get into his sleeping bag. Also, good.
But I also had my standard pre-event anxiety dreams. Those involved empty seats. So don’t put me through another night of that and buy your Entertainment for People tickets please. I found out that we’re giving away Girls Gone Wild paraphernalia too. Yep. They have paraphernalia. And we’re giving it away.
I also had dreams that I was pregnant. I’ve had two nights of dreaming about this. Last night’s was that I was ready to deliver and hosting Entertainment for People and decided that I’d rather just give birth at home. In my dream, I had the same feeling I have when I try out a new knitting project — oh! This will be an adventure!
I’m not really clear on these dreams. Being pregnant is the last (very last) thing I’d like to be. It took me four years to fit back into my regular jeans. No child is worth giving up a size 29 Joe’s jeans.
NO JEANS LEFT BEHIND.
And K8 sent me a list of Portland preschools that offer full days so I can go be a business lady and Archie can still learn stuff and OH MY GOD WHY IS IT SO EXPENSIVE?!!? Sending him to a full day preschool is a lot like owning a second house. Except I don’t get equity.
Also, what is the preschool for actual working parents? Which one is that? You know, the one that offers care during hours where I can drop off my kid and pick him up and still fit in a full work day? WHY DON’T THEY MAKE THIS?
So that’s what I’m doing today. Applying to full day preschools. Because now Archie and I are both fancy working people.
Trapped!
GET YOUR ENTERTAINMENT FOR PEOPLE TICKETS!!! DO IT.
I shouted again. But I want you to get your tickets. A lot. I want that. We like a nice, full house at our shows. And we also have the best audience in Portland. We like seeing you. So get ‘em!
One of my superpowers is getting trapped in enclosed spaces. I bet you didn’t know that, but it’s true. If there’s a tricky doorknob, it will totally trap me. If you have a car with automatic locks, you will lock me in and I will set off your car alarm getting out.
One of the most horrifying experiences of my life was in London. I was traveling alone. I was coming up from the tube in one of their cattle car elevators. It was rush hour. I was in the middle of the crush of Londoners. The elevator just stopped. IT STOPPED, INTERNET. And because it was full of Brits, no one had an emotion. They all just stood there.
I am an American and my first thought was, THE TERRORISTS HAVE WON!!!! And then I got dry mouthed and my heart started racing because I have a touch of the claustrophobia naturally AND NO ONE WAS DOING ANYTHING! I might have felt tears. So I said, “Um. Could someone maybe please pick up the phone maybe and call the operator and perhaps we could maybe start moving?” It was a big moment for me. Because I was scared of Londoners. And someone did. They called the guy and ten minutes later we were moving.
Well, yesterday I GOT TRAPPED AGAIN.
My palms are sweating just thinking about it again.
Um.
Okay.
Archie had to go potty so we were let into a building that was normally closed on Mondays. This building is very big with many nooks and crannies. There were a couple of people doing maintence on the building, hence we were let in. We ran into the women’s restroom where I had two thoughts: “Oh, no one has cleaned up since the Sunday rush” and “huh, it’s cold in here.”
Archie went potty; we washed our hands. We went to open the door and IT WAS LOCKED FROM THE INSIDE.
This restroom is a public restroom. It’s tiled and has no windows and an industrial door. And it was locked. And the building was closed. And I didn’t have my phone because we were just running in to use the potty. And the building has warrens and paths and various rooms.
I started knocking and I could tell that no one was going to hear that.
I had my Frye boots on and I started kicking at the door.
Nothing.
It didn’t take long for me to spin the situation to its logical conclusion: we were going to spend the night in there with no food or blankets or anything and OH MY GOD. OH MY GOOOOOOODDDDDDDDDDDD!
I had the dry mouth panic thing. My heart was racing.
I had a single clear thought: this is what panic feels like. I am panicking. I must not panic because I can’t spend the whole night in here with my heart racing. That really won’t be cool.
I kept kicking and Archie was pounding on the door and FINALLY a dude showed up.
He opened the door: “Is there a problem?”
I shoved Archie through the tiny opening the man had left and I leaped out of that DEATH TRAP.
“THE DOOR WAS LOCKED. IT WAS LOCKED WE WERE LOCKED INSIDE. OH DEAR GOD, THE TERRORISTS ARE WINNING!!!!”
And he didn’t seem to believe me. So he had to try it. He told me to stay right there. And he locked himself in there. I opened it back up and he was like “Oh, and huh, and we need to get that fixed.”
Meanwhile I was screaming inside and longing for the fresh air of WHATEVER because I HAD BEEN TRAPPED.
So I grabbed Archie and we ran out of that building. And I spent the rest of my evening being at once grateful that we escaped and also panicked at the possibility of it happening again.
So this is the best I can do, Fan Club. I’d like us to make a promise. If I ever go missing, instead of hunting for my dead body in the nearby wilderness, you’ll check all of the enclosed spaces in the area. Chances are, I’m in one of those. And crying.
Knitting and Working
BUY YOUR ENTERTAINMENT FOR PEOPLE TICKETS.
ALSO SIGN UP FOR THE NARRATIVE ACTUALIZATION RETREAT!!!
Sorry for the shouting.
I know all of you were sitting there wondering what I got Fancyhats for Valentine’s Day. I’m sorry I kept you up last night FREAKING OUT because you had no idea. Well, my present was less successful.
He requested a burgundy beanie. Which I made. A little too big. It actually fit over the ice cream maker, Internet. I’m going to just blame the yarn for this one. I used some Manos I had in my stash. I remember loving this yarn and now I simply dislike it.
Because it made the hat too big.
And it’s not a very nice hat.
I like knitting Fancyhats things from nice yarn, of a quality that he’ll appreciate. The first scarf I knit him was part silk. Manos is not a nice yarn. It’s fine. It was the first expensive yarn I bought, which means it was pricier than what I was used to, but now it scrapes the bottom of the barrel for what I’d pay for quality yarn.
So I shrunk/felted the hat and it’s a little bit better. 
ISN’T IT SO MUCH FUN BEING A MOMMY BLOGGER?!?
Anyway, that’s a little bit better, but I think I’m just going to re-do the whole damn thing and knit him a scarf I’ve been imagining. It’s knit length-wise and from some nice cashmere or something. He’ll like it. Better than this stupid hat. Which makes me angry.
Also, I have some good news to share with you in the next few days. It has to do with my professional life so don’t go speculating about my marital state or my ovaries. Both of which will remain as they are.
My ovaries especially.
We Ate!
For V-Day, we ate. This is how Fancyhats and I celebrate holidays — we eat Fancypants foods. And then I wake up feeling incredibly guilty and 50 pounds overweight. I would like to unprogram whatever stray wire is in my brain that makes me feel like I’ve gained 50 pounds in the middle of the night. I know we’ve talked about that here. About the feeling that we will wake up and need gastric bypass surgery.
I do not need gastric bypass surgery.
I don’t.
I DON’T.
Despite this:
From Fancyhats’s email to me with this picture attached:
“Hanger steak with chimichurri
Stir fried veggies
Sauteed chard w/ balsamic vinegar
Garnished with love”
That’s also a Fancypants bottle of wine in Oregon Pinot glasses. These glasses are specially designed for Oregon Pinots. I only know this because Fancyhats has informed me of this several times. He’s particular that way.
We like sitting next to each other for dinner. I read somewhere that sitting next to your date for dinner is ridiculous. We also like eating at the bar when we go to restaurants. If you haven’t done this, I highly recommend it. It’s like dinner theater, but different.
And then…AND THEN…this happened:
I’ve decided that I want to be an ice cream pro. I want to be known for my fantastic ice creams. And just dream up wonderful ice cream combos. I want to be some sort of Willy Wonka of ice cream except I’ll keep the factory all to myself because everyone knows children ruin things (See Charlie and the Chocolate Factory, Last Chapter, The Glass Elevator).
This is my third batch of ice cream. It’s Chocolate Velvet Ice Cream. I used regular Hershey’s Unsweetened Cocoa Powder and Scharffenberger 65% chocolate. We cut up some 85% dark chocolate bits to throw in too.
OMG it was the best ice cream I’ve ever tasted. So silky and so much chocolate. I think it kept me up last night.
Fancyhats gilded the lily, as it were, by adding some homemade whipped cream to the top.
It was Willy Wonka level ice cream.
My next batch is going to be vanilla with candied pecans, I think. That sounds good. And then I’d like to venture into some sort of lemon, blood orange ice cream situation.
Leave your ice cream flavor suggestions in comments, but please note I will not be making any sort of basil ice cream or lavender ice cream because I think those flavors are just silly.
And, for Valentine’s Day, Fancyhats got me MICHAEL BUCHINO!
This is a limited edition screen print by my friend (and Entertainment for People poster designer) Buchino.
And Fancyhats had it framed. Fancyhats has a rule that only original art or numbered art goes on the walls. (See, particular.) I have three signed pieces of art and the rest of my walls are decorated with posters from our events. What? We have awesome event posters.
I love that poster. Don’t you? It’s totally Portland. Rain – check. Hoodie – check. Beard – check. I love the blues and the way Portland is written. Love it. I’m not saying you should order one, because Fancyhats as expressly forbidden me from promoting the poster because he doesn’t want everyone having one, but it’s so cute! (Again, particular.)
So this one will go up in the living room. I thought about having it in my bedroom, but I just don’t know if I want to wake up every morning and have my first thought be of Buchino.
(I stole this picture from Buchino’s Etsy site. I have no idea who to credit for this picture. Someone leave a comment and I’ll correct it. Pic by Nancy Buchino!)
Happy Valentines Day!
So Sunday is Valentines Day. I bet you didn’t know that.
I’ve had sort of a mixed relationship with Valentines. I went to college at San Fransisco State in the 90’s and I wore overalls and listened to the Indigo Girls and Tori so at that point, Valentines Day was just a way for the greeting card companies to stick it to us, and true love was just a myth BECAUSE MEN WERE TERRIBLE.
Then I had boyfriends and good girl friends and Valentines Day was pretty innocuous. I never expected flowers and if we went out, that was great, but making dinner was nice too.
I’ve never had a terrible boyfriend so I’ve never had to do a boyfriend bbq. I never had to hang out with my girlfriends and curse this one or that one. I think because I have pretty sensible friends who don’t tend toward histrionics about men. Histrionics about other things. IMPORTANT THINGS. Like eating too many cookies, having a big zit, not fitting a pair of jeans, or missing WHOLE SEASONS of Project Runway. Believe me, these are important things to get worked up about. I say that because I’ve been worked about each of those things over the past week.
This year, Archie’s school sent a memo home that said Valentines Day is a celebration of love and friendship. For once, I got excited about Valentines Day. I can get behind celebrating love and friendship.
So that’s what I’ll be doing on Sunday. I’ll be celebrating love and friendship. As part of my celebration of friendship and love, I’m going to think about all of you. Because I’ve made really great friends from this blog.
And I’m going to hang out with Fancyhats. Because, you know, I love him. A lot. More than I thought possible. And if it weren’t for him, I’d be sitting around on Valentines Day celebrating friendship and moderate contentment.
XOML
I’m Harrassing You
Okay everyone, you have just a few days left for early bird cheap tickets to Entertainment for People. So get ‘em now! After the 15th, they’re $12. So hurry!
This show is going to be so awesome. It’s everything good that Portland has to offer, from Fourever Young playing Appalachian Beach Boys tunes, sketch comedy from Eastland Academy, a DIY Demo, the former director of MTV’s How’s Your News showing clips from various political events and everyone’s favorite Portlander — Nathaniel Boggess.
I’m pretty sure Nathaniel has dated 85% of the available women in this town. I’m sure of it because I’ve had three different women come up to me and say, “I dated that guy.”
I’m sure he got even more dates from his Back Fence story. Did you see it? No? Well, check it out.
Nathaniel Boggess at Back Fence PDX from Melissa Lion on Vimeo.
Sledding
Well, we went to the snow and survived! There were no fights.
We rented inner tubes and used those as sleds. I’d never heard of this before Fancyhats told me that was what we were doing. Of course, I’d only ever seen snow twice before I was 20 years old so what do I know?
The first time I saw snow was at Sea World in San Diego where they do Christmas in July and make a bunch of snow, pile it all up and let snow-bereft Southern Californian children experience snow in all of its 80-degree glory. And then when I was a bit older and we went sledding I have no idea where and we used one of those metal disk sleds and I let go and scraped up my face really badly.
My relationship with snow is confused.
Anyway, we went and I sledded exactly twice. Once on the bunny slope and once on a larger hill. Both times, I sat on the edge and felt my chest tighten up and the blood rush into my ears.
You see, as an adult I went skiing once and had a full blown panic attack on one of the hills. I had to sit down. I was paralyzed. I didn’t think I’d make it down the mountain. It was horrible.
We went sledding and I really tried to cowboy up, but there’s just something about the combination of snow, hills and not having any breaks that does my head in. I’m not phobic about much (heights, cardboard, wet napkins) but sledding, skiing, snowboarding really feels like a phobia. Something I just can’t think myself out of.
I really don’t want to be a person who sits things out, but I think when it comes to snow sports, I’m happy in the lodge knitting. In fact, we went to Timberline lodge for hot chocolate and sat by the huge hearth. It was lovely.
Cranford, or Portland?
Last night I started watching the BBC miniseries, Cranford. It’s based on three books by Elizabeth Gaskell. OMG it is so funny and lovely and wonderful. I’m really enjoying it. And the best part about Cranford is when they say Cranford, I replace Cranford with Portland. They say things like, “That is not the custom in Cranford.” Manchester seems like a place of pure evil with its big city ways, and Cranford is always on the higher ground. At one point, one of the characters says, “what will people think, and worse what will people say!” Ahhh life in a provincial town.
We’re going up to the snow this weekend for some sledding. This will be the true test of my relationship with Fancyhats. The last time I went to the snow with a man, I swore I’d take a bus home and never, ever return to that godforsaken place. This was Mountain High in California. A place where they actually manufacture snow because it’s in Riverside County, which is a desert. A snowboarding lesson was involved. I cried and cursed at the 12 year old snowboard instructor. Did I mention that the man I was with was a surfer? And had been a surfer since he was 9? Snowboarding came naturally to him. Snowboarding did not come naturally to me. I skiied for the first time when I was 20. That too did not go well. And then there was the time I tried surfing and wound up in the emergency room.
Frankly, it’s a miracle I can even ride a bike.
I hope sledding will be far gentler on my psyche. Fancyhats has promised that we’ll go out to pancakes. I don’t really eat pancakes, not even with a half cup of quinoa, but I do enjoy two-egg breakfasts.
Wish us luck, internet.
Writing, Back Fence and Fiber
First off, I’m teaching a writing woo-woo class with Bridget Pilloud on February 21st. It’s a bargain, people — $25-45 sliding scale. It’s a three-hour class and we’re going to use the elements of narrative to change your story. Believe me, I did this with job stuff and it so worked. Decription here. And if you want pay for a spot, just email me: melissa at back fence pdx dot com.
On February 25th, we have another Entertainment for People event. This is our variety show and we have music, a DIY demo, sketch comedy and two awesome dudes telling stories. Nathaniel Boggess (he was the guy who slugged the other guy from the front seat of his Lincoln, then made out with the dude’s girlfriend) and Arthur Bradford who was the writer, director and producer of MTV’s How’s Your News. Arthur is showing some video and telling stories about the RNC and DNC.
Tickets for this one are $10 until 2/15, when they go up to $12. So get those babies early.
Finally, fiber. Did you all see this article in the NY Times Mag? It’s all about fiber. And how this guy’s kids were all up in his grill about making cupcakes and he made them rye flour pretzels instead. He also says that pancakes he made with whole-grain rye flour, cornmeal and a half-cup of cooked quinoa “had a depth and richness that put me in mind of strong whiskey.”
Fancyhats read this article to me last night and instead of laughing at the ridiculousness of making your kids eat rye flour pretzels when cupcakes are requested, then experiencing the stab of guilt because either requested would have forced me to slice up a frozen fiber cookie log of oatmeal, nuts and dried cranberries instead of baking anything from scratch. I simply took it as a challenge.
Last night I made roasted veggie enchiladas. The night before, veggie curry with brown rice. Each night, I asked Fancyhats and Archie if they’d like a dollop of non-fat yogurt on top. Fancyhats told Archie that other families ate something called sour cream on their enchiladas.
Here’s my point: I’m just going to boil some water, throw in some quinoa and rye flour, cook it up into some mean looking gruel and serve it with raw kale THREE MEALS A DAY.