Assassination Vacation-Sarah Vowell

It's been a while since I've done a post about reading. Well, that's because it's been a while since I actually *did* some reading. I'd been taking a break from the reading probably around the holidays. Once Thanksgiving is over, most things come to a halt except caroling and gift buying. This year was extra stressful due to the two weeks of snow we encountered. You'd think I'd just curl up in a ball and read, but instead I just watched tv and or got stranded at Isaiah's house watching tv (which is nice cuz he gets more channels than me.) Also, as most things go, I wanted to be "in the mood" for a book. I'm still reading Slaves in the Family, as well as still interested in The Historian, but none of them were peaking my interest . . . until I came across a CNN interview on Sarah Vowell's most recent book The Wordy Shipmates. This book is about her quirky, humorous and Jeapordy-like knowledge about the puritans pilgramage to the US. When I heard this, I thought Omigosh, this will be great for my brother, him being a history buff and all. Then I thought, wait, I'm a history buff too, this will be perfect for me too! Thus, on my one of two outings, I made it to Powell's. However, instead of The Wordy Shipmates, I got Assassination Vacation because it was on sale. I thought, well Renato's birthday isn't for another month, I'll just buy it now, plus maybe I can read it before I give it to him ;) And that, I am doing.
I love Assassination Vacation so far. I did not read it as religiously as I should have when I bought it, but starting last week, I just can't put the book down when I pick i up at night. also, I don't want to drag it to the gym or work, because I still want it to look new for when I give it to my brother, oh, next week . . . shh don't tell.
I must say, I'm really enjoying this book and Ms. Vowell is a great story teller of history. She takes her work and her commentary very seriously, but it's delivered in a way that is welcoming, like she's telling someone a story. She has an unhealthy obsession with Abraham Lincoln and cherishes road triping to historical sites. Ah, kindred spirits? Perhaps, but I suck at the kind of writing that she could do.
So if you're interested in history with a nice sharp tongue pick up Assassination Vacation where Sarah Vowell takes you through the four major presidential assassinations starting with Lincoln. And I must say, the timing is perfect because there was one such president inaugurated just this past week who is equally (probably not so unhealthily) obsessed with Lincoln as well.

p.s. I got internet at home and feels good. But I gotta control myself . . .

LA Fitness-The Pearl

Verdict: Not impressed.

I started going to the gym probably around middle school time. In retrospect, I think it was an insistence from my brother to my mother that I was getting a bit too chubs. That was the fattest time of my life. This brother never made me feel fat and never said mean things about my weight, instead he just tried to help. I started going to Gold's Gym with him in Beaverton (it's now Laser Tag). We'd do cardio, and weights. He'd help me and encourage me. I think we went about 3 times a week. I began high school and joined the volleyball team and quit the gym. I supposed that helped lean me out. I always hated working out: running, crunches, squats, etc. I hated it all, but I only did it for fall season, then it was back to my lazy self. I did play softball freshman year in the spring, but then softball turned into musicals and I gave the work out stuff up.
Then came UO. As a student, you get a membership all built in. It's a great *idea* but actually getting to it was another thing. I'm not sure how much I went, but it wasn't often. Perhaps the last year, I went a bit more religiously, but never as I do now. I wish I had, but heck, in University, there are much more important things to do like meet boys, socialize and do good in school. Who thinks about their weight.
Then came post-college. I lived with my parents. My nephew's mother (my oldest brother's ex wife) put me on her family plan for the SW Community Center they had just built on SW Vermont by Gabriel Park. At first I was a bit resistant since I'd felt they'd RUINED my beautiful park with their flashy pools, gyms and parking lot, but once I was there, I loved it. It was small and quaint and family oriented. I think by the time Kelly and Isaiah came up from Eugene to move in, I'd stopped going. We'd gotten an apartment behind Jackson Middle school so Kelly and I decided to get up at the butt crack of dawn to go jogging around the track. It actually worked quite well for the first year (I think). I had to be at work at 8am and since Kelly worked from home, she wanted to get an early start too. So up we were, at 6am. I'd get up, knock on her door to wake her up (or else she'd not get up) and off we were. Depending on the weather, we were either in t-shirts and shorts, or sweat shirts and hats. One time, it was so icy, couldn't make it down the hill to the track, but at least we tried, right? We were doing pretty well. Kelly had her jog and jazzersise, I had my work out dvds and body for life I followed. But after a while, jogging around a track got very monotonous for me and I couldn't do it. So I decided to get myself a membership to the SW Community Center again. I really enjoyed going there because of the reasons previously stated, but also because I could work out and watch tv. I'm a tv junkie. I like watching tv and if I can do two for one, I'm happy. There, they had about 5-6 tvs and each piece of equipment-bike, treadmill, elliptical, stairs-had a device that you hooked your headphones in and listened to the tv, or radio if you wanted. I loved it. I could jog and watch Law and Order, or use the elliptical and watch What not to Wear.
From living with Kelly, to living with parents and finally living in NW, I was looking for a gym that was equally as fantastic as the little SW Community Center. I went to 24 hour Fitness in the Pearl and that was a mistake. It was like the UO gym all over again. Pretty, teeny tiny little woman, and huge muscle men. Not my scene. I just wanted to go, work out and head out.
Then I found Gold's Gym at on NW Overton. It was small, had people that looked like they were interested in working out, not hooking up and had *almost* the same type of setting as SW. And since at the time I lived so close, I didn't have to use the showers, a bonus! There were three treadmills that had tvs attached so when I ran, I always tried to use those. Then it got bought out by LA Fitness. I asked about the tvs being hooked up to the equipment and they assured me that there would be new equipment at the new LA Fitness they were building in the pearl.
I stayed on at LA Fitness because of it's location and size. Since I moved once again, it was more of a walk, but it was familiar. I knew when to go when it wasn't too busy, what equipment to use, how the showers worked. The only thing I did notice was that they had two clocks in the whole place. No clock in the locker rooms. I attributed that to the fact that they were moving in mere months.
Now fast forward to today. It takes me about half an hour to walk to the gym. Ok, no big deal, whatever, walking is good for you. I walk in and its MAJESTIC. I mean, there are a few things here and there that need to be done, but it looks FANTASTIC. I can see the large pool and the top floor for weights. The welcome? Not so much. It gave me a feeling of sterility. There are no signs as to where things are (this place is three stories tall.) I had to ask for the locker room because no one offered it up. It's down a hall in the back. I'd never had found that. I walk in and all the lockers are cherry wood color, how impressive. I walk around a bit more. There is a sauna and a showers and bathrooms. Ok cool, looks good. I stuff all my things in a locker and to the cardio section. One of my observations was that the pool faces Lovejoy and I don't think the windows are tinted. Can you imagine, strangers can see you in your bathing suit! So off to cardio, I see a few locals and oo and aw about what I see. So many machines, so many tvs! I finally walk over to an area that DOESN'T have sports playing and try to figure out how to listen to tv. The television has a sign that says "tune to 80.7" NOT a good sign. I realize there are no plug ins for my head phones and I look around a realize, WTF, it's like the last one. I turn around and ask one of the locals about this and they say yes, you need a radio. Are you kidding me?! Who has a radio! So I'm am profoundly disappointed. Am I supposed to go out there and upgrade my ipod? Am I supposed to by an iPhone? WTF. Not only is this gym far away and sterile, now I can't even HEAR the tv, again.
So, after a disappointingly silent tv run (I listened to my ipod, again), I hit the showers. I grab my shampoo/conditioner and body wash, my rag and my towel and go through the door to the showers. I walk in and none of the shower have actual towel hooks, those are located *before* you enter the shower area. So I'm supposed to walk down naked to one of these showers? Niiice. I barely walk around naked with my boyfriend, let alone strangers! Luckily, it's early and no one is around. So I turn on the water of the shower closest to a towel and it's just cold. So walk down to the next shower, cold, my jiggly bits bouncing about, hoping no one walks in, and hop into that shower. Luckily it warms up and then I look and there is no where to put any of my shower stuff, no basket, no ledge, nothing. So we're supposed to shower, wash our hair with that musky smelling stuff we wash our hands with? I don't think so.
So I'm finally done with my shower and hobble over to my towel trying to wrap it around myself with one hand cuz the other is busy holding my shower stuff. I get to my spot and begin drying off and dressing. I reflect on my whole gym experience there at the pearl and I come to the conclusion that it's more frustrating than not. I make a mental note to start searching for a gym that is smaller and more quant and if I do decide to switch, make sure they have TVs that you can actually *hear* when you work out.
I'm sure there *is* a simple solution to all this, but I'm just not impressed by all their glitz. I just want to work out, watch tv while I do cardio, shower without feeling humiliated and for God's sake, would it kill you to have a clock in the locker room?!

UPDATE: After looking around for other smaller gyms that don't exist in my area, I've decided to stay here. I've compromised with myself that although it's far away, it's better than nothing, so now I have to drive (DRIVE!) to work 2-3 times a week to get to the gym in the mornings. But, on a good note, they finally put towel hooks next to each shower. Yay! And also, the sound system is working so there is actually music playing. But still NO CLOCK IN THE DRESSING ROOM!

How's it going?

It's going well thank you!

I've successfully been able to maintain my positivity through out a few rough bumps in the past few weeks. Snow on Christmas eve? We'll ride the bus. The bus did not show? Call my brother for a ride. Had to come into work the Friday after New Years after having been given it off? Well, at least I got to sleep in, come in late and leave early. My television *still* gets no reception even with the digital converter box? Well, I guess it's time to buy a new flat screen with the money I got from caroling. Didn't work out for the last three weeks? Well, I lost half a pound, not gained five. The slide show didn't work out as planned. No problem, only I knew what was wrong (as MANY people kept reminding me.)

So there ya go. I have no New Year's Resolutions, just a continuation of goals I've been wanting to achieve. So far so good.

I do have plans: To continue to work out, continue to cook, mostly healthy food and continue to be positive.

Yeah, I think I can do it!

It's Begining to look a lot like Christmas . . .

Well, a Hollywood "white" Christmas that is (no pun intended.)

After my last successful caroling gig on Saturday night, Isaiah and I headed over to my parent's company party where Isaiah proceeded to drink shots of tequila as if he were back in Mexico at the quinceniera.

Sunday morning, even though hung over his head perked up at the word "snow". "Really?" he asked, slowly opening his blood shot eyes. Really. There were at least 2 inches of snow by 10:30.

Since I'm a fantastical planner, I had packed a bag of boots, pants, sweaters, hat and scarf since I knew I'd be riding the bus Sunday back home when Isaiah left for work. I did forget gloves and socks though!

But since it had snowed so wonderfully, I didn't feel like isolating myself in the confines of NW Portland. I wanted to share the joy of snow with friends, thus I invited myself over the Liz, Bruno and Laura's house, and they all graciously accepted. Thank god for friends! So off I trekked.




(Above is their cute house.)

After having made Laura drop her cell phone in the snow, she gave me directions to her house from Isaiah's. Surprisingly enough, they were only about 4 blocks away and I made it. While there, I heated up my toes at their fake fire place and helped Liz bake cookies while Bruno cooked a fritta. I took pictures around their house and we finally had lunch.



Afterward, I knew time was ticking for me to get back home before the temperature plummeted even more and go dark. I wanted to make this trek during the say since I'd never ridden the bus this far out and to my surprise, it was quite easy and perfect. Both Isaiah and the house are right off of the trimet bus path so going back and for will be pretty easy. It also passes through downtown, Pioneer Square, China town and up to 21st all the way to Montgomery Park. I love you bus 17!

I finally made it home and my little car was still trapped in between two cars who seem to want me to pull an Austin Powers. I guess I won't be moving my car until the snow melts (which won't be for another week, I think.) But have I mentioned I love the bus 17? Venturing out to SW Portland though, won't be too easy. I'm supposed to be at Washington Square at 9am on Saturday and the plan was to spend the night at my brother's place in Bull Mountain. I don't think I can make it out there without a car, so I might have to head out to my other brother's place, by Hayhurst over at SW 45th. But we'll see . . .

But for now, enjoy some pics!
(My poor car!)

Who am I, what's happiness?

I was told early this week that I was too negative. As much as I wanted to jump on the defensive bandwagon (and did just a bit), I sat and thought about that. I thought about all the times I bad mouthed work, of the times I bad mouth myself (my hair, my body, my skin) and I realized: I am making myself unhappy. What used to be just common venting, turned into full fledged complaining and I'm not happy with that. Recently, I cut out a person in my life becuase of the unwanted criticism and negativity I felt from her. She made me feel bad about myself and my choices. Sure, I should just buck up and tell her to shut up, but I'm not that person. I can take criticism, and I can take opinions, when they are handed to me in a specific sort of way. Most people know how to give it to me and I hope that I know how to give it appropriately back. So lately I've been thinking a lot about this, especially now living alone again. I don't have tv I watch religiously any more (just those few shows and I watch them online when I can), I don't have internet at home and I don't have anyone to distract me anymore, I'm just alone with my own thoughts. "You're too negative" is what I kept thinking to myself. And it's true. I don't want to be, I want to be a positive person. Of course, I don't want to over do it, but I do want to be the person people can turn to, who enjoy being around because she's not a downer or a complainer. Of course, I will vent, but I need to tread the fine line between venting and complaining.
This I started Tuesday. Life is to short to constantly be unhappy. Nothing is wrong: I have my health, as does my family, I have a job whereas many don't, I have a partner who loves me, I live in the area of my dreams, why am I not happy? Because I create my own happiness. So that's what I'm striving to do: I want to create my happiness. Even though I've not seen the world, made a million bucks or discovered the cure for cancer, I can still be happy with who I am, who I'm with, what and how I choose to lead my life. Which begs another question:

So, who am I?

That will be for another time . . .

Update on "Sleep"

I came home late last night after I'd written the last blog entry. Ok, not *late* but a few hours later. I half expected there to be a note under my door. I was nervous. When I got home with my bags and opened the door, I saw nothing. When I turned around to hang my coat on the hook behind the door, there it was: not with my name meticulously written on top. I read it and the tenant apologized. She said she had no idea how loud she was being and that she was speaking with her relatives in the Philippines. She was very thankful of me for letting her know the volume and that it would never happen again. She was also sorry I had to go down there and knock. Man, how I was relieved. So what did I do? Well, as nerve wracking as it was, I knew she was home (her light was on) and I debated leaving it at that or thanking her personally. I wanted to thank her personally, but I was scared. Why was I scared? I dunno, I guess I thought she'd think I was a dork, but I did it anyway. I was very appreciative of her being nice and understanding, that I just wanted to tell her that there were no hard feelings. So I did. I think I surprised her, but I don't care. I felt better and she was able to see the smile and appreciation on my face. She's still kind of a clunker of a neighbor (meaning she makes tons of noise just being home), but I can deal with that.

Sleep

I can't remember if I've posted anything on the subject yet, but probably should.
I love sleep. Really, who doesn't? Even people who don't sleep much, cherish it. When I was younger, sleep would transport me to a magical place with parallel universes where I could be and was, who ever I wanted. I lived out stories of other people's lives, I'd travel to south American and Egypt and the pyramids (even though I've never been.) I could taste the ocean's salt water and the sun's warmth. I looked forward to what new dream my subconscious mind would take me. Where would I go to next, that is if I actually slept through the night.
I stopped having fantastical dreams when I noticed I wasn't getting much sleep. Sleep no longer meant a rest for the weary, it meant a rest for the totally exhausted body and mind. Living at 21st and Marshall, I rarely got to sleep the whole night through do to my neighbor's animal sex and drug dealing. My bedroom was at the hallway door that didn't shut quietly, rather it slammed. And no one was courteous enough to help the door a long in it journey when it was 3am or 5am, both times of slumber for me. I used to be a huge night owl, I very well still could be, but I choose not to. I actually really like getting up at the butt crack of dawn, before everyone and walk to the gym. No traffic, no busyness on the streets. 23rd is one of the most beautiful places to walk through when it's just you and the cold. So with that said, I'd actually need a good nights rest to be able to peel myself out of my covers. I've realized as I'm getting older, that I need a good 8-10 hours. Isaiah can function with 6 and 8 is just too much. Other people are the same, they need less or as much as I do. I notice that if I don't get those full 8-10 hours of un-awakened sleep, I"m a grouch, the world sucks and I hate people. Its all a snowball effect. If I'm sleep in the morning, I sleep in, if I sleep in, I can't go to the gym, if I can't go to the gym, I have to go after work, if I go after work, I get home at 7 instead of 5:30. If I do get up and am super tired, it's a waste because if I was supposed to run 3 miles, I run 1. If I was supposed to do a half hour on the stairs, I do 15. I just need more sleep to feel refreshed and concur the world. So I moved. Marshall, even though spacious with parking most days, was much too noisy and the neighbors were inconsiderate. My downstairs neighbors played their music loud, smoked (you could smoke) and had get togethers on Sunday at 8am, loudly. When I asked them to keep it down, they were asses. Very rarely were anyone at that complex nice. I had to get out of there, work and my relationship was suffering because I was so unhappy. So I moved, I moved to 24th and Glisan. People warned me that 23rd was worse than Marshall could ever be. There were deliver trucks, bums, drunk post-college kids (like myself) etc. But when I went to see my little jem that had been built in 1910, I feel in love. It was completely re-done with new floors, new appliances and new paint. It was just 8 units and the Landlord, who owned it, was super nice and really sought out people who were quiet, early rises and early to bed. There are always exceptions to the rule of course, but that's what he was looking for in a tenant. When I walked in, I could feel it, the quiet. It was the middle of the day and I could hear nothing. At first, I had not gotten the place. The person that had seen it before me, decide to take it, but after what the landlord had said about the quiet, he second guessed himself. He worked days so he'd be getting home late at night and didn't guarantee being quiet so it went to me. I was a bit nervous cuz it was a hasty decision, but I went for it. I had a few problems along the way (like the issue with space and the couch) but it's all been worth it to get those 8-10 hours of uneventful sleep. But that's all been disrupted this last few days.
There's a new tenant downstairs. When I first met her via the landlord, she had scrubs on so I assumed she was a nurse or intern, etc. Cool, I thought. I noticed that she was a bit noisy when it came to the bed room. I could hear her walk, move things, close doors etc. Ok whatever I thought, its evening time, it happens, things will quiet down and they always did. But last Wednesday, when I was alone (which is now rare) I went to bed excited to not have to get woken up by Isaiah coming into bed a couple hours after me. So i snuggled and closed my eyes and I heard it: she was on the phone talking. Ok cool, well it's 11pm, I"m sure she'll quiet down. I must have dosed off because I don't remember much else, but I do remember getting woken up at 3am by her laughs . . . on the phone again. Either it's the same conversation or she's just calling people up in the middle of the night and chatting. Anyway, since I can't sleep when I can hear things that are inconsistent (as in silence, then laughter, then laughter, then silence followed by laughter, etc). I have bionic ears so I attach myself to any sound that isn't white noise. It's annoying, but it's also annoying to hear someone else's telephone conversation at 3am! So when I finally dosed off *again*. I got up and attributed it to a fluke.
Fast forward two days to last night. It happened again. As I was heading to bed at 10:30 (yeah, it's Friday, so! I was tired and I wanted to get up with Isaiah so I could go to the gym at 8am). It was happening again. Since I'd had a bit of champagne, I was able to doze off but once again, I got woken up at 2am to her laughing into her phone. I thought, again, seriously? Is this how it's going to be now? I was furious. I didn't want to have to deal with this again. Isaiah said to put in ear plug and I said they don't' work, the fall out or I pull them out. I moved so I didn't have to deal with people being loud or with having to put in ear plugs. This time, since it was an hour earlier, I wanted to make sure it was her so in my pjs I walked outside, down the stairs and around the apartment to hers. Her living room was dark but her bed room was light as day and I could hear her, laughing, talking. Mind you, I have no idea what she's saying as she's speaking another language (the first time, I tough she was but I was listening through floor boards, but this time, I was right outside her window, so I knew she was.) She could easily be chatting with relatives in a different continent, etc. And THAT'S FINE! What's not fine is not taking into consideration that it's 2am and everyone around you is either trying to sleep, asleep, or quietly watching tv (as was my next door neighbor.) I knew it wasn't her because I went into the living room and stood and I could hear her cough and the soft murmur of her TV. SO I put on a sweat shirt, my slippers and walked down stairs. One time is a fluke, twice in the same week is a habit and I"m going to nip this in the bud so help me! I knocked on her door once and waited. I knocked twice and waited. I could hear her talking. I waited for a silent part in her conversation, I knocked a third and fourth and nothing. By this time, I'm tired, frustrated, embarrassed and FURIOUS. I'm shaking, so I go back up stairs and try hard to concentrate on falling a sleep. I keep having dreams about her on the phone and every time I'm starting to doze off, she starts laughing again, loudly. This happened about 4 times until my mind finally went.
So this morning, instead of getting up with Isaiah, I set the alarm for 10. I was pissed that i had to do that. I was so tired. I"m still tired! I also decided to write her a note. I basically said please be aware of the time and location when you want to be that loud on the phone. I told her it's not happened once but twice. SO basically, after this warning note, if it happens a third time, I'm calling the landlord. That I didn't say, but she should sure as well be smart enough to know that. And if she has a problem with me cuz perhaps I'm loud and I don't' realize it, please tell me. I'm assuming here that what I'm doing is ok. I try to be an extremely considerate neighbor. Yes, I'm drop things once in a while (because of the small confines) but I don't' even wear my HEELS until I"m out the door. I don't slide chairs, I pick them up. I don't play the tv loud after 10pm and I don't practice my music before 10am or after 10pm. So please, if I'm do something horribly bad, tell me and I'll remedy it. I don't want to be a hypocrite but I won't know I'm being one until I'm told.
So, let's hope the note works and all other scenarios I played in my head do not unfold.