You don't understand, I can't drive!

Since we were both miraculously free on a Monday afternoon, Clumsy Girl and I decided to see a movie and then have some sangria at Pambiche. The movie was showing downtown and traffic wasn't bad at all except for the guy in front of me, who was driving his white Toyota pickup very, very slowly. I estimate it was moving at about .3 miles per hour. To my chagrin, the truck pulled into the parking garage ahead of me.

The man driving the truck stopped to talk to the booth attendant, which I took to mean he didn't know how to use parking garages. Perhaps he'd never been in one. It took a lot of time, but he finally moved up to the automatic ticket dispenser. When he took his ticket, I noticed that he had an ace bandage wrapped around his hand and wondered if maybe that was the cause for all the slowness.

He finally pulled forward, I took my ticket, and... stopped. Behind the white truck. He appeared to be having trouble with the turn. I heartily wished I could have turned left where he turned right and we could both go on to find parking spots and freedom, but this was not to be. He inched forward at an agonizingly slow pace. I honked. I'm not normally a honker, but this was getting ridiculous. Then he stopped, blocking both me and a car that was trying to get out, and got out of his car.

At this point, Clumsy Girl and I were shouting, "what are you doing!?" He walked two steps toward my car and held up his hands, which were both covered in ace bandages. He said something, but with the windows up and our own shouting, we did not hear what he said. I imagine it was something like, "You don't understand, I can't drive!"

My initial reaction was to proclaim the guy a jackass and leave it at that. I mean, really. If you can't hold the steering wheel, don't drive. But then I got to wondering what part of his story we intersected. What would drive a rational person (if we can make the rather large assumption that he is indeed rational) to attempt to drive with two bandaged hands? Was he smack in the middle of some intrigue? Was the Russian mafia after his wife? Maybe she was framed and he was in the middle of finding the people who set her up.

Or maybe it was a case of mistaken identity. Maybe someone roughed him up and burned or broke his hands and he finally escaped and was in the process of ditching his truck and getting away from the people who were after him -- or someone who looked like him.

I only hope he didn't attempt to escape on the Max. That thing is almost as slow as his truck, going through downtown.

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Viva sweet love

I wanted to have a lovely spring photograph to accompany this, but I'm a slacker and I can't deny that it is well and truly spring in Portland (cue thunder, dark clouds, and three months of nonstop rain). So I bring you the annual posting of my favorite spring poem -- this time the full poem which I didn't know about until a month or two ago when a random interneter commented on last year's spring blog post.

“sweet spring is your time
is my time
is our time
for springtime is lovetime
and viva sweet love”

(all the merry little birds are
flying in the floating in the
very spirits singing in
are winging in the blossoming)

lovers go and lovers come
awandering, awondering
but any two are perfectly alone
there’s nobody else alive.

(such a sky and such a sun
I never knew (and neither did you)
and everybody never breathed
quite so many kinds of yes)

not a tree can count his leaves
each herself by opening
but shining who by thousands mean
only one amazing thing

(secretly adoring shyly
tiny winging darting floating
merry in the blossoming
always joyful selves are singing)

“sweet spring is your time
is my time
is our time
for springtime is lovetime
and viva sweet love”

-- ee cummings

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Pruny fingers are another reason to love the internet

I noticed last night that my fingers are a bit pruny again. It was during dinner, about 10 hours after my last shower, so it didn't have anything to do with bathing; I chalked it up to dehydration. This happens every now and again and doesn't actually bother me or hurt. Mostly it makes me think, "Hmm. My fingers are pruny again. How odd." This morning, a google search sounded like a good idea. That led me to this blog post which has comments on the subject going back to 2004.

Reading through about half of these comments, I came to the conclusion that my pruny fingers are probably the result of stress combined with a weird nervous system disorder* I have that is related to my (very minor) heart condition.

Pruny fingers don't have an appreciable effect on one's quality of life, except for the people who described actual pain. A lot of the people who posted had consulted doctors who were baffled by the causes. Now maybe these just weren't good doctors, but it does seem that pruny fingers aren't really the stuff of medical journals. This is just a guess, but I'd wager that most doctors don't spend a lot of time thinking about pruny fingers unless they use the existence of pruny fingers to perhaps diagnose something else that's going on in the body. That's where the internet really struts its stuff. Some guy posts a humorous anecdote on his blog about buying hand lotion and eventually there's all this data in one place that can potentially help people discover the cause of their pruny fingers! It's just wonderful!

* I feel it's important to point out that many doctors, including mine, do not believe that there is any link between Mitral Valve Prolapse and the nervous system. I told my doctor that the symptoms described in a book I read perfectly described what had been going on with my body. Also, following the advice in the book to eliminate caffeine and sugar where possible and to exercise regularly and eat well makes the symptoms go away. For instance, I don't have as many heart palpitations, and I no longer develop embarrassing muscle tics when I walk into a room full of people I don't know. He's an amicable fellow and we came to an agreement: he still doesn't believe me about the cause, but admits that healthy choices that make me feel better are a good thing.

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Pet food recall

I'm sure most pet owners have heard about this by now, but just in case...

Menu Foods, which apparently makes almost all the wet pet food in the country, is recalling their foods. This affects brands like Iams and Science Diet, as well as local store brands. I don't know what was wrong with the food, but my dad's dog, Mylo, almost died due to kidney failure. His other dog, Maggie, got sick, but wasn't quite as bad off.

Anyhow, if you feed your pet food that comes in a can or a packet, you might want to check what you have in your house against the list at the Menu Foods website. Also, my dad found some information on PetSmart.com that wasn't on the Menu Foods site, so you may want to check there, too. If your pet is lethargic or puking, get it to a vet.

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Why do people say, "I'm not going to lie to you?"

I'm going to lie to you, I just won the lottery. I also haven't been spending enough time at work and have completed all my home improvement projects. My house is looking fabulous -- you should come and see the new deck. The painters just finished up yesterday and my room is no longer the horrid color called "two to tango" that looked far better at Lowe's on a little card than it did on my walls.

A publisher just called to offer me a book deal, so I'll be quitting my job next week -- although I hardly ever show up, so that won't make much of a difference.

I'm not hungry right now because the chef I just hired with some of my lottery winnings made a brilliant five course meal for me. I shared it with the contractors who are building my giant garage/workshop (heated) with a guest studio on top. The work should be completed sometime tomorrow.

I'm going to lie to you, I'm leaving town next week. Ransom and I are going to the airport where we'll pick a flight based on what's leaving and what sounds good at the time. We'll just have some carry on luggage -- mostly full of cash. We plan to find a villa and some bicycles somewhere and hang out and relax for awhile. We'll probably give a good portion of the cash away while we're on our trip, or perhaps use what we need and give the rest away right before we get on the plane to come home. It's more fun that way.

I'm going to lie to you, my taxes are all done and I'm getting forty thousand dollars back just because the IRS thinks I'm charming.

I'm not going to lie to you, I have to take off now. I've been working all day even though it's Sunday and my Indian food will be ready for pickup in 20 minutes. The Simpsons beckon.

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By request

My sister just completed her first 5K run, and I'm darn proud of her. She called me after the race and said I should have a blog post asking what songs she should load up on her new iPod for future exercising. Her husband then added sex and yard work as categories I should ask about. I'm not sure how romantic it is to show up in bed with headphones on, but they've been married for a long time, so I'm not asking any questions.

What songs would you put on an iPod for...

• ... exercise?
• ... sex?
• ... yard work?

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