June 26, 2007
~ poofy knee and bruises going down ~
I have not felt as though I have anything interesting-for-other-people to write about. For a while now, I have been having trememdous difficulty getting up in the morning. This has been the case throughout the duration of my existence, but it's much worse these days. Today, I got out of bed 7 minutes before I had to leave for work. When I arrived, my office mate mentioned that I looked like I had just rolled out of bed and I said, "Pretty much." I also had a super busy weekend and did not complete all of my weekly "getting my life together" items, such as putting the apartment back in order, so my life has seemed like a big mess (quite literally). Nevertheless, life has remained good.
I experienced a big epiphany over the weekend. You see, I have become somewhat obsessed about the concept of becoming a homeowner. I've even started a high interest savings account for this long term goal and am throwing in all of my extra money each month. There are a few barriers with this goal, however. The first is the price of homes in the location where I want to live. As I feel location to be tantamount to everything, I would want a home right off of downtown in the North End. Yet, as I have been combing the North End, where every third home is currently for sale, I am appauled at the price that these homes are "worth." For example, there is a crappy, run down, what appears to be a crack house, a few blocks down from me that is going for almost a million dollars. It's big, but it's super ugly and looks like it's about to fall to pieces. The best deal that I've found is a 900 square foot SUPER CUTE place that's almost $300,000. The average price for a modest sized (2 bedroom) home is about $450,000. In short, not likely to be anything that I could afford, what with the working at not-for-profit organizations. And I don't much feel like living farther away where I would have to return to commuting and not having downtown at my beck and call. The other major barrier to this goal is the notion that I'm not committed to living in Boise for the rest of my life. I've given a lot of thought to moving somewhere with a mild climate year round. These sorts of places, such as Santa Barbara and San Louis Obispo, tend to have very high home prices, so the likelihood of my being able to become a homeowner there is much less than in Boise.
The other day ago, it occurred to me that it's ridiculous to live somewhere that I'm not completely satisfied with in order to save money to buy a home that I might never be able to afford. Also, you know, life happens. Saving Money=Good, but something tells me that I'll never be able to afford a half-a-million-dollar home. And since compromise is not one of those activities at which I excel (which is to say that I have no interest in those homes/doublewide trailers miles and miles away which I could afford), I'm pondering alternatives to my living situation which might allow for me to both have and eat my cake.
In other news, wow. My degree in political science has done nothing to help me navigate the politics within my organization. I mean, HOLY HEAVEN AND HELL ON EARTH, who knew that my job would be reduced to little more than thumb twiddling due to the political deadlock that ensued over my and my boss' attempt to get for me the tools necessary to perform my job?!! Little did we know that in order to get afore-eluded to tools, that we would have to take it to the upper echelons of the organization, a political card that we decided it wasn't worth playing. I am hoping that my masters program will assist me in knowing how to navigate these kinds of politics and bureaucracies better in the future, as I am confident that politics are deeply entrenched in this non-political organization. To sum up my feelings on the matter, SHEESH!
Here's a "brief" mountain biking update (feel free to skip, for those of you not interested):
On Saturday, Josh and I completed a big 24 mile mountain bike ride. We rode up Bogus Basin Road, up Hard Guy, up Ridge Road, and then had an 11 mile descent down upper 8th Street. I had to pause on several occasions in order to pour water onto my head and exposed skin areas. The temperature was pretty hot and I continue to have issues with overheating. Josh has procured a cyclecomputer with an altimeter, so we were able to determine that we completed about 3,000 feet of climbing. Riding down Ridge Road was both fun and scary challenging. There were a bunch of loose sand areas, lots of ruts, and some rugged rocky sections. Nevertheless, I prevailed. Another interesting bit about this ride was that I had the opportunity to use my new hip-mounted Camelbak, my effort to carry more water on extended rides without having to use a backpack. Hip mounted Camelbak, I am a fan!
On Monday night, I participated in a women's mountain bike skills clinic, taught by some local women mountain bike racers. We began by learning "quarter punches" (a technique to lift the front wheel) and going up and down curbs. It was pretty basic stuff, but I have wanted to improve my technical skills for a while, so I was fully engaged and participating. Then, we started to ride up a trail to find some rocks to practice on. The problem was that this group of over 20 women had such variance in skill level and biking experience, that we all ended up waiting for a ridiculous amount of time for the brand new/never riden a bike before people. I was of the opinion that they should have grouped us up a bit by ability level, but as there were three instructors and over 20 participants, that would have been difficult. Anyway, we'd ride 50 feet, wait five minutes for everyone to catch up, ride 50 feet, wait, 50 feet, wait. In over an hour and a half, we were able to travel about three miles. Which is why I made the decision to leave and go on my own bike ride. I rode off and continued to practice my new skillz. Eventually, after a little miscommunication mishap, Josh met up with me and we went off riding up Red Sands. We stopped at an intersection where there was a connector trail turning off from Red Sands going down towards Your Mom and practiced going down something super scary. This trail began as a turn to the right, was banked going into the turn, with about four big ruts cutting across, then it dipped down dramatically, was crossed by another rut filled with loose sand, had a big bump, and then the trail continued down very steeply and was off camber in the opposite direction of the way that it had been banked. I practiced trying to ride down it a number of times and couldn't pass the first turn. One of those times, I bailed and fell over and knocked my knee hard. Said knee is currently all swollen, bruised, and painful. Even though I wasn't entirely successful, I felt good that I was trying. Then we contineud to ride around a bit.
Last night, we rode Sidewinder, and I had a blast. Josh had performed some minor surgery on my brakes that afternoon, filing down the brake pads, in an effort to make the front brake less powerful and to give it increased modulation. It seems to have worked well - - I now have a wide spectrum of braking power with the front brake, and the possibility of grabbing it too hard and going over the handlebars, hopefully, reduced. I have decided that Sidewinder is a good trail for me to practice my form and technique. It has a number of mild challenges that would allow me to work on some skills and regain my confidence at going fast, yet there is nothing scary or unnerving about it. Also, it's short enough to make it a great trail for later in the evening, when the temperature has cooled down sufficiently. Last night, we didn't dare venture on a bike ride until sometime after 8pm because it was just too hot. We were coming down the trail right at sunset (around 9:15 or so) and it was a wonderful time of day and temperature to ride in.
June 19, 2007
~ mini-vacation Salmon, Idaho ~
I have found that when one has the opportunity to embark upon a spontaneous mini-vacation, that it is generally in one's best interest (of having a splendid time) to take advantage of that opportunity. Last week, Josh and I had such an opportunity - - he had the rare, so to speak, chance to take a three day "weekend" (being that his normal weekend is Friday and Saturday, it became a three-day with the additional day off of Thursday). It turned out to be a perfect week for me to cut my hours short by two days, despite the short notice of taking Thursday and Friday off on Monday. We then had two days to come to an agreement about how to spend our mini-vacation. Now, I don't know about all you other couples out there, but occasionally Josh and I find ourselves engaged in heated negotiations to agree on something. With regards to the mini-vacation debate, we each had our hearts set on a certain place, only for the other person to articulate a number of reasons in disfavor of that location. Eventually, the night before we were planning to set off on our adventure, we found agreement on the location of Salmon, Idaho.
According to Mapquest, the drive from Boise to Salmon is estimated at 5 hours and 11 minutes. Josh and I had established approximately 3 hours as the maximum time allowance for driving, so it's surprising that we decided to travel somewhere with almost twice the travel time. To compensate, we decided to stop at about the halfway point for a big bike ride. We stopped several miles before Stanley and completed a 20 mile loop around the Knapp Creek area of the Sawtooths.
The Knapp Creek Loop was pretty fun. When we arrived at the trailhead, there was a big bright yellow sign indicating that the area was "BEAR COUNTRY" and advised trail users to make noise so as not to startle any bears. Now, I have read enough reports about people in Idaho being mauled by bears to take a sign like that seriously. Which is why, for the majority of the ride, Josh and I were singing and humming nonsensical tunes for to not startle bears. For me, however, it was a nice change to fear being mauled by a bear than to be afraid of some aspect of the bike ride. Indeed, there was nothing about the ride that could have frightened a 'fraidy pants like me. It was labelled as a beginner/intermediate ride, the only reason for the intermediateness about it being a wee little bit on the technical side and the length (20 miles being nothing to shake a stick at). Personally, I was loving the wee little bit of technical action on the trail - - one does not see much technical spots on the Boise foothills - - and it was a nice challenge that made the ride more interesting. Another interesting factor about the ride were the number of creek crossings we faced. There was quite a bit of water running down those mountains, sieved nicely into streams and creeks. The first major creek crossing I peddled my way through no problem, despite my feet and ankles dipping fully into the water. The other major crossing was more of a river which was far too deep for peddling. Wow, ice water from the mountains can sure make one's feet lose all circulation quickly!
The last few miles of the ride got a bit old for me - - we left Boise at 9:00 in the morning, started our bike ride at 1:00 in the afternoon, and that was a long time for me to go without a full meal. At mile 17 of the bike ride (which was around 2:45), I was officially about to faint from starvation. We had all kinds of energy bars and calorie drinks, but I needed FOOD. After returning to the car, we quickly made our way to Stanley where we had a big meal. The last leg of the drive was a bit more tedious and uncomfortable, as our butts were in the process of withering up and dying from sitting in the car for so long.
But we made it! The night before, we made reservations to stay at the Greyhouse Bed and Breakfast (see above photo), which is 12 miles outside of town along the Salmon River. We stayed in one of the cabins for a very reasonable rate. Our cabin was nice and odd. It was a good solid cabin with a comfy bed...and it was decorated with a simply ridiculous amount of fish motifs. There were stuffed fish everywhere, several on the bed as pillows, some on the chairs as cushions, and even some sticking here and there for mere decoration. The walls had a wide assortment of fish in various format, everything was fish, fish, fish. Whatever, the bed was comfy and there was plenty of hot water.
After settling into our fishy cabin and taking showers, Josh and I decided to drive on over to Salmon for some groceries. It was about 8:00 by the time that we hit the road again. We took a quick tour of the town, which is super cute, and stopped by a grocery store for some food items, and beer. We then sat on our porch at the cabin, snacking and drinking our beers. It was very nice.
The next day, we rose at 8:00 and had breakfast with our fellow bed and breakfasters. We also procured a map of the area and began to ponder our adventures for the day. After breakfast, we went back to the town for some real exploring. We walked up and down Main Street, visited the Lemhi County Historical Museum (where Josh and I were both conned into picking up solidified hair balls from cows' stomachs - - those Salmonites have questionable senses of humor). Josh took the opportunity to question several individuals about possible mountain biking trails. There were several options and, ultimately, we decided to ride Twelve Mile Creek for the reason that we would not have to drive to get there (it began a block down from the Greyhouse Bed and Breakfast).
Twelve Mile Creek is a forest service road that travels up and up into whatever wilderness area. I think that we were forewarned that it is a rocky road, but it's difficult to know how much weight to give various warnings. You know, Josh and I have been warned about mountain biking on this or that trail by all sorts of non-mountain bikers, only to discover that there was no need for any kind of a warning. This Twelve Mile Creek forest service road was just like the warnings we heard... ROCKY - - and I don't mean there were some rocks on it, I mean that the entire road for miles and miles is nothing but big loose rocks, such that it was quite a challenge to ride. And it was HOT. The grade did not seem like much, but after looping around the first switchback, I glanced down into the bottomless void from which I had ridden, and realized we were climbing much more than it seemed. We stopped at several of the streams coming down the mountain and stuck our heads in the icy water to cool down - - did I mention that it was HOT?! We made it about 9 miles up before we gave up - - we were hoping to arrive at some scenic meadow area, but with each switchback going higher and higher, our hopes diminshed. And the rocks were making for something of an unpleasant climb. It was not the nice technicals of the ride the previous day, it was frustrating rockiness that was just a pain in the bottom. So after 9 miles of butt pains, we turned around. I had been a little wary about the prospect of the downhill on such a rocky, deceivingly-steep road with a massive drop off into a deep void off the side of the road (see: fraidy pants). So I started my descent focusing on my proper biking form, not looking at the scary drop off next to me, and trying to not wipe out on the rocks. At some point, I thought about how one could really fuck one's self up by crashing on such a road. Somehow, in spite of all these scary factors, I was having fun! I hit a massive rock head on, unintentionally, and it was absorbed into my shocks and my descent continued uninterrupted. As I continued down, carefully engaging my breaks at the proper times (not in corners, not as I hit big rocks, not as I rolled through loose sections of rocks) and let my wheels carry me through the sketchy sections, it became really awesome. Soon, I let go of the breaks all together and only used them to keep my speed from getting out of control. According to my computer, I was going 15...18...20...22...25...27 miles an hour down a steepish rocky road, faster than a car would have gone, with my shocks absorbing all of the rocks so that my ride was cushy and comfy. For a good while, I was even seated, with the rear suspension making for a smooth ride. After a while, I started riding over the bigger and looser rocks, just for practicing. At the bottom, the straightaway before the highway, I was going almost 35 mph, which is pretty fast for me. It was a great ride!
That evening, we went back into town for some dinner at a place called the Shady Nook. I enjoyed some blackened salmon and sweet potato fries and Josh had some kind of alfredo pasta thing and french onion soup. We then wandered around down by the river where Josh impressed me with his ability to skip rocks. I hypothesize that the skipping of rocks is some base animal instinct that dudes have retained over the ages in order to attract a mate. The rock skipping ritual lasted quite some time, it was as though Josh was showing of his vibrant plummage.
The next day, Saturday, was the end of our mini-vacation. We had breakfast at the Greyhouse and loaded into the car for the drive back. We opted to go the LONG way so that we could see Craters of the Moon. We biked a 7 mile loop around the area, and saw lots of volcanic stuff. I'd never been there before, so it was nice to have that opportunity.
Also during the drive back, we opted to stop in several of the small towns along the way for a quick walk around. In Mackay, pop. 500, we found a number of yard sales to peruse and managed to skedaddle out just in time to miss the town parade. I don't parades. We had lunch in another little town, Carey, I believe. Also, I had quite the giggle as we passed through Arco, the first community in the world to be lit by nuclear power!
The great misadventure of the trip was while we were driving along this remote highway after leaving Mackay, at 65 mph, and all of a sudden Josh (who was driving) looked in the rearview mirror and screamed "Your bike is gone!" I practically had a heart attack as I looked back at the trunk rack to see no Minty Fresh (what I named by brand new expensive bike). Immediately, we turn around, thinking that the bike must have flown off the rack (because it was on the rack when we left Mackay). The amazing irony being that this was a brand new fancy pants rack that Josh arranged for us to use specifically for this trip. For years, I've used this trunk rack that my dad found at some thrift store for $5, and it has served me well (no bikes flying off). This rack that I've had, however, has just seemed like an accident waiting to happen. The manner in which it fastens to the car is questionable, and Josh and I are always going to great pains to secure the bikes to the rack. So for this big trip, Josh wanted to have the piece of mind of using a high quality brand new bike shop recommended rack. It attaches to my car so much better, and it has wonderful pads and straps for the bikes, to hold them securely. So it was quite the shock to look back and see that my bike was no longer on the rack! As we were driving back from whence we had came, I was scanning the sides of the road, expecting to see my brand new (expensive) bike, having been crushed and run over by the traffic, all bent up, broken, and sad. Boy, was my heart rate up. We did not drive for very long when we began to wonder if perhaps the bike was somehow dragging along behind us. Josh pulled over and I ran to the back, where I discoverd my bicycle dangling by the cheap cable lock that we had used to lock the bikes to the rack while in the thief-ridden town of Mackay. Somehow, the straps securing the bike to the rack came undone and the bike flew off the rack, but the lock held. I cannot find the words to describe my relief that my bike was not only NOT bent, broken, and sad along the side of the road, but that it appeared to be undamaged. I was so glad that we had randomly decided to put the crappy cable lock on the bikes, which would have done nothing if a thief had really wanted to steal our bikes, but which managed to hold the bike up enough so that it wasn't even dragging along the road as we sped along at 65 mph. There is not even single a scratch on sweet Minty Fresh!
Whew!
Anyhoo, here's a link to my flickr set on this mini-adventure.
June 18, 2007
~ bumming around ~
Quick, adjust your panties! I've almost finished writing a lengthy and overly verbose retelling of my weekend fun, but I won't post it until the morrow when I have my photos ready to upload. So sit tight! Because now, I shall dazzle you with a few words about how much I enjoy bumming around.
On bumming around.
Yesterday, I removed my person from my snuggly comfy bed at 8:00 in the a.m. and realized, with joy, and relief, that there was not one action item that I had to complete that day. No errands, no responsibilities, no obligations. Ahh, the free life! I had stayed up late the night before cleaning my entire apartment, so I did not even have the ever lingering task of setting the apartment right. As I walked to get myself a coffee, I pondered what I would do, how I would spend my time. When I returned to the apartment, scalding coffee in hand, I decided that I would hunker down and sew the fugly mismatchy plaid skirt that I've had plans for, for months.
You remember the skirt. The one that I had planned to make from oversized men's button-up horrid plaid shirts. Different plaids separated with a band of rusty orange cloth taken from an old pillow case. Items of unusual value that I located for super cheap prices at a thrift store.
I hunkered down, while listening to some new music, drinking my coffee, and made a whole entire skirt. Oh! But it is truly fugly. As usual, I have not taken a photo of my amazing creation. But rest assured, it is wonderful. It looks ridiculously homemade, sewn by someone who is both color blind and tasteless. Pure love.
So, bumming around.
All the while I was making the skirt, I was me in my quintessential bumming around form. I can spend hours and hours just fiddling around with stuff at home. For all that encompasses the memories of my life, I have enjoyed bumming around. Like, not necessarily doing anything productive or useful, just bumming around. I can't explain it, but I love being in my own little world, bumming.
Later in the evening, my bumming morphed into me doing a big deal of cooking. I broke out the food processor and made a huge vat of my personal recipe for gazpacho. I then made a large quantity of steamed cauliflower in cumin and coriander. For those who have not tasted my steamed cauliflower in cumin and coriander, I pity you. What a sad life you must lead.
June 11, 2007
~ cramping quads ~
Is it true that when one does an extra-ordinary amount of difficult physical activity, that one is the most sore two days later??? I guess I'm not so much "sore" per se, but rather that one of my quadriceps is seizing up into these painful cramps. I hypothesize that it is acting up because of an unusual quantity of bicycle riding I engaged in this weekend. After all, on Friday I did a 17 mile ride, and the next day, I rode 25 miles, both on the mountain bike.
The second of these long rides was to the old ghost town of Silver City. After 12.5 miles of riding uphill and getting overheated enough to stick my head into a creek to cool down, I was happy to arrive at the dusty gates of Silver City. Josh and I had driven to the end of the pavement and then ridden bikes the rest of the way (12.5 miles rest of the way). The ride was not as difficult as I had expected. Not nearly as steep and the road was in much better condition than I expected it to be. The road, however, was hardpack with a thin layer of loose sand, and I had a near-wipeout-miss. The ride was made difficult by the heavy backpack that I was carrying. I hate carrying things on my back and I actively seek to avoid it under most circumstances. However, it was necessary for me to carry extra water, peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, and some other supplies, and I had no other means to carry them except for aforementioned backpack. But, oh man!, it was so heavy and it felt like it weighed an extra 30 pounds and was dragging me down, cramping up my shoulders and back.
Silver City itself wasn't quite what I had expected. As a ghost town, I had imagined abandoned buildings and tumbleweeds rolling through the streets. I also wasn't expecting to see as many people as there were. Not only are the buildings in use, some people actually live there, but most of the buildings are being renovated and restored. There were also a lot of people there, it was a popular place! Most everyone was driving an SUV or ATV and we had several people exclaim to us, "Did you ride your bikes the whole way up that road?!!!"
As some point, we were down by the creek that runs through the middle of town, underneath a large wooden building, when a dude in an ATV came by and offered to let us see the inside of the building. As we were on the wrong side of the creek from the front door, he allowed us to sit on the hood of his ATV (me, holding on for dear life!) while he took us across the creek. Inside the building, we discovered a veddy veddy old Mason Lodge. There were all kinds of odd things here and there, peeling wallpaper, and dusty cult trinkets. Probably the most interesting find was an old globe that (you know, because it was old) had different nation states than what we know today.
Silver City is in a valley in the mountains. After we had ridden ten miles up and up and up the mountains, we had about 2.5 miles to descend into the town. On the return trip, my legs were cursing me for making them continue to work. I kept telling them, my legs, that they didn't have much more work to do, that it was almost over, but they were having none of it, being all cranky and pissy with me. After that climb, there was a good long downhill which I took the opportunity to practice braking techniques. At the very end, there was another climb right before the spot where we had parked the car. I must have gotten some sort of adrenaline rush on the downhill, because I suddenly had more energy than I had on the rest of the ride and it was probably the funnest part of the whole ride for me. It was one of the steeper grades, yet I was easily going twice as fast than my average pace up the rest of the climbs.
Incidentally, I've got a computer hooked up to my computer, so I do know for a fact the distance and speed at which I was riding. My fastest speed on that downhill was 28 mph, which felt pretty fast to me. On the ride the previous evening, the mere 17 miles on the Boise front, my fastest speed was 32 mph, which I was peddling down Bogus Basin Road in an effort to catch up to some downhill riders we had chatted with up on the trail. I thought it would be super funny if I zoomed up to them and said, "Hey guys, how's it hanging?" while passing them. Unfortunately, right as we caught up to them, one of the dudes crashed on the pavement in a spectacular tour de force and I had the opportunity to see his muscle tissue poking out from under his knee and an arm with a lot of missing skin. Somehow, his friends kept on riding, so Josh and I kept the dude company until his friends had the sense to come to his aid. I felt a little bad for how happy I was that it wasn't me who had crashed, 'cause I bet it sucks to be him, but hey, at least empathy doesn't imply that you physically experience the same trauma and pain as another. Empathetically, I felt for his pain, but I certainly didn't feel his pain.
Oh, but to return to the title of this post, Cramping Quads, I'd like to direct your feelings of empathy towards my quadriceps which are crampy and seizing up with tightness. Boo!
June 5, 2007
~ birthday bananas ~
On this day, people around the world are celebrating with joy and enthusiasm the anniversary of my birth.
I began the day's festivities by transporting my person out to the Department of Motor Vehicles to renew my driver's license. It was a ridiculously fun time. I had the opportunity to stand in line with a bunch of people, wait my turn, peer over a deputy's desk, take a quick eye exam, pay $26.50, sign my name a bunch of times, and get a horrible photo taken of my face. Rock, as they say, and roll.!!!
To maximize the morning's fun, I decided to shell out the big bucks and buy myself a coffee to take to work...since on this day, I am too super special for the brown water that passes for office coffee.
When I arrived at work, I promptly went to check my personal email, where I found a few birthday wishes. All from people revelling in the national holiday that ought to be my birthday. My coworkers pooled their money and gave to me a giftcard to McDonald's. Which I might redistribute to a homeless person. Because I'm not so interested in eating at McDonald's. I suppose that it's the thought that counts, but who in their right mind would give me a giftcard to McDonald's? I mean, a giftcard to McDonald's in and of itself is kind of a tacky gift, but to ME??? Who do they think I am! Also, the giftcard is for $5.00, which is only enough (I assume) for a one-person meal. It's not as though I can take Josh out to dinner, at McDonald's, or anything. I received a giftcard so that I can take myself out to eat all alone...at McDonald's. Which sounds like a splendid way to spend the anniversary of my birth...eating by myself at a cheapo unhealthy fast food place. Which I why I plan to redistribute it to a homeless person.
In other news, last night I successfully rode my bicycle up Hulls Gulch. Woo and hoo.
June 4, 2007
~ weekend update ~
By way of prologue, I have to mention that the weather has been consistently messed up. This year, spring in Boise has consisted of several days of 40-50 degree weather, a day or two in the 70s, back down to 40s, up to the high 70s, then 50s, and on and on. This erratic temperature has been severely irritating me. Now, we're getting into the summer. Before I went to New York, it was in the mid 80s. For two days when I returned from New York, it was in the low 50s. Suddenly last week, it jumped up to the mid 90s. Tomorrow, it's expected to be in the low 60s, continuing for the rest of the week, in the 60s and 70s. And I ask you, What the hell! I have been completely unable to acclimate to the weather and am sick of this. Why can't the weather just, like, stay within a range of 10 degrees for a week or more? What is up with these 20 to 30 temperature jumps every other day? For several days, I've had a bit of trouble sleeping because it's sweltering all throughout the night and I'm not used to it. Hate, stab, bitch, and moan. I've got one of those crappy window air conditioners, but am opposed to using it because power rates just went up 20% and it doesn't work very well. At least my apartment is sandwiched in such a way that it never gets TOO RIDICULOUSLY hot if I leave the window blinds closed. Fans help.
Speaking of not sleeping, I went a little crazy the other night. Friday night, I woke up at 3:00 in the a.m. by this horrible toxic smokey smell that had filled my apartment. I sleep in my kitchen, with my bed blocking my back door that leads to the alley. It's an old building, so there are gaps everywhere, and the alley air constantly drifts into the kitchen. It's fine, though, because this alley is pretty okay, so there usually are no foul smells drifting into the apartment. But the toxic fumes in my apartment, they freaked me out. They stung the back of my throat and made my lungs hurt. My entire apartment had become engulfed in these horrid fumes. I tend to not be my normal rational (cough, cough) clear-headed decision maker at 3:00 in the morning, so I went a bit crazy over these fumes. I opened my window to discover that it was worse outside. I pulled on some pants and went out the front door to find that all up and down my street, there was this thick haze of toxic fumes. My eyes were watering and I was coughing like crazy. I was certain that a gas station had exploded or that the Boise north end neighborhoods had been hit with a biological weapon. I then spent an hour and a half sealing off my apartment by covering all of the cracks with duct tape. I also cleaned out my air filter thing and placed it right next to where I was sleeping. I couldn't get to sleep for a while because I was worrying about Boise having experienced some air quality natural disaster. When I woke up several hours later and went outside, it was like it had never happened. The air was fine, breathable and fresh. I combed the newspaper, and could find nothing about any toxic fumes. I was very confused. The only possible explanations that I have come up with include what appears to be a massive sulfer leak a few blocks from my apartment, or that maybe there was some preliminary chipsealing work done (though, I found no evidence of that), or something to do with the underground expansion of the Capital building. Or, I'm going crazy.
In other news, I had an okay weekend.
On Friday, Josh had purchased us tickets to see the first play at the Shakespeare Festival. We rode our cruiser bikes all the way out there along the Greenbelt, me with my two panniers stuffed with food, a blanket, and a big pillow. We found a great space on the hillside, stuffed yummy food into our mouths, drank wine, and enjoyed the theater. One of my favorite things about the play was the splendid pair of Fluvog boots that the lead female was wearing. These were boots that I have had my eye on for several months. At almost $250 a pair, I was wondering if this female got the theater company to buy the shoes, and whether she gets to keep them. I need to get involved in this lucrative business known as "the theater." Anyway, leaving the theater was something of an adventure. It was dark, being sometime after 10pm by the time that the play ended, and we had a little issue with our lack of front light for our ride along the Greenbelt. I became quite disoriented feeling trying to ride without light through the trees to home.
On Saturday, I had a little birthday party cruiser bicycle parade. Josh, Amy, Sara, and Eric all met at the Bandshell at Julia Davis Park with some food, beverage, and park games. The plan was to ride bikes to Sandy Point Beach, but the temperature prooved to be much hotter than expected, so we went as far as Barber Park where we found a table in the shade and spent a few hours playing smashmitten, frisbee, and shooting each other with squirt guns. By the time that we left, we desperately needed to be somewhere with a strong air conditioner. We went to a place called Kesler's Cafe and drank a lot of beer. Truth be told, I became pretty intoxicated. We also ordered some amazing dollar tacos - - beef, and halibut & mushroom. On the ride home, I occupied my drunk self with taking photographs of everyone riding their cruisers. That evening, I was exhausted. Probably from spending so much time in the heat. Well, and the fact that I was so drunk so early in the day. Anyway, I was a floppy lethargic tired person for the duration of the evening. I walked myself over to the steps of a nearby school, and watched the sun set.
I continued having difficulty sleeping because it was so hot at night. By the time that I went to bed at around 10:30ish, the outside temperature was still close to 90 degrees.
Sunday was a glorious day for me. I did not have anywhere that I needed to be or anything that I was expected to do. It was marvelous! I spent the day doing whatever I wanted to do at precisely when I wanted to do it, and miraculously everything worked out perfect.
I spent most of the day in my apartment. I really enjoy dinking around at home on my days off. One of the projects that I accomplished was dyeing a sweater. See, a while back I bought this amazing white sweater at a thrift store for two bucks. I have absolutely LOVED this sweater...it's been one of those few articles of clothing that is among my favorites. Unfortunately, a few months ago, it developed some kind of large stain on the front. Despite all of my efforts of removing the stain with stain remover and bleach, the stain has remained. The sweater has resided in a drawer for months, my unwillingness to throw it away, yet not willing to go about wearing this severely stained sweater. You know, one of those tragedies in life. Recently, I experienced one of my flashes of brilliance and I decided that since my favorite white sweater had this big brown stain, I would dye the whole sweater brown! Maybe other people think of these things, but I felt it was genius! So yesterday, I cooked the sweater in a cocoa brown dye concoction, and it came out wonderful. Now, the entire sweater is this lovely chocolate brown color - - and I think I like it better than ever before.
One of my other successful projects from yesterday was the altering of my old "funeral" skirt into a fun kneee-length almost-bubble skirt. It used to be this formal, floor-length skirt I'd wear to funerals. I don't go to a lot of funerals and decided that it would make a better summer time knee-length bubble skirt. That project turned out very well also, and I think that I have a new favorite skirt. I'm thinking of using the extra material (it's like a taupe silk) to make a shawl.
I also spent a good amount of time reading a Murakami book. I had time to sit for several hours, and just read the last half of the book. I usually only read a chapter at a time, but I continued to read and turn the pages until I finished the book. It felt so nice.
I also watched three episodes of Star Trek: the Next Generation and had a great workout at the gym (too hot for outside exercise!). I ended the day by relaxing with Josh at the large bookstore, reading magazines and eating chocolate cake. I also slept very well last night, despite the heat.
