some full moon

My life for the past week. notably the past few days, has been so hectic and full of stuff (more about that later) that I am completely relishing zoning out in my dark bedroom in some mundane pleasures. I'm listening to the new Stereolab album in my pajamas under the light of the full moon and the glow of my laptop screen, and I'm enjoying the guilt-free simplicity of music, internet, soft bed, and full moon.

I have a kind of cool view out of my giant bedroom picture window. It looks to the east through a screen of large rhododendrons that screen the traffic on the street. I like being able to see through the backsides of the shrubs- because plants grow angled toward the light, it's like looking from underneath petticoats- the undersides of an umbrella of leaves supported on long, thin twigs. Its a rare view, really, when you think of it. We're not often under bushes like that, and especially not regularly like I am in my bed. The view is also cool because on the uphill side I have a lovely vine maple, which is turning lovely flamey hues right now, and on the downhill side, behind an apartment building, I can see the top of the Space Needle, which makes me happy. When the streetlight is on above my building, the light filters through the leaves in a lovely glow-ey way, and when it flickers out, as it regularly does, I enjoy the city lights more. Tonight, there is a lovely full moon, which was absolutely giant when it rose this evening in the east, but is steadily making its way up to its zenith and is now nearly out of view (from my pillow).

I'm recovering from the past week which found me scrambling to get a ridiculous pile of things done at the same time. I spent the weekend finishing a bunch of restoration planting plans to present at a meeting today, and in the week leading up to this weekend and in the wee hours of last night I found myself pulling together my portfolio to submit to the New York office in the transfer effort so I can start talking with them tomorrow. I ended up facilitating an office childhood photo contest and happy hour event thursday which absorbed way too much time, and I may be presenting at California's APA (American Planning Association) conference in LA next week... it's all feeling a little ridiculous and I'm just a bit worn out.


I was able to take a couple hours out yesterday and go enjoy the warm weather (whose days are quite numbered) and sunset at the viewpoint at the southwest of Upper Queen Anne yesterday evening. I had planned on reading on my blanket, but the sunset was so beautiful the entire time I was there that I ended up staying plugged in to good music and just laying on my blanket in the grass, overlooking the sound and Olympic Mountains as the sky morphed through various sorbet-hued renditions of itself. As excited as I am to make this move, I was really... well, moved at the sight of the Northwest like that. There are great things here I'll miss a lot. This really is an unusually beautiful place, and a little Sigur Ros piped in behind nice weather might make you cry, too, even if you're perfectly content.

I've got to get some sleep.

pirate joke

What's a horny pirate's worst nightmare?

A sunken chest with no booty!

I don't like the word "horny," typically, but I'll make an exception for this joke.

ball still rolling

I've been a little preoccupied with work-related things lately, primarily this potential transfer.

However, things seem to be progressing in a positive direction with New York- seems like even though there have been a couple odd turns, including my contact in that office having been hit by a taxi and now being out on medical leave, that it may work out. They have a public job posting that seems like it was written for me that was recently posted, so that's a good indicator. I have the advantage, in comparison to someone coming from outside the firm, of being familiar with our systems and standards, so that would work to my advantage. In addition to me being a stellar individual and designer.

I met with our Design Director and our Managing Principal on Friday to talk about the process, and Chuck was going to call their Managing Principal, Marius to start the process.

Sidebar: I'm hoping the cool name is a good sign; he seems to be the emblem of the office. They recently made notebooks for the whole office out of discarded copies and made the cover in his image, Che-style. Also a good sign. Our office isn't so creative and I'd like to be in a creative environment. My fingers are crossed. At right; I'd get behind that. (no, not I'd hit that.)

MY FINGERS ARE CROSSED! woo!

Well, the weather is stunning here this weekend and I'd best go take advantage of it. I've been doodling about in my shady apartment and would like to enjoy some of this upper-seventies business. Get to meet friends with baby at a park in a couple hours, yay.

another great way to waste time

-while snickering-

FAIL Blog

craigslist best-of

My Women
I'd Like It Back, No Date Required
Will Not Separate
Door To the Future
We Live Together
Sponges
You Bit My Leg While I Was Passed Out and I Never Got to Ask Your Name

here goes...

I sat down with my superiors yesterday at work to tell them about my desire to move to New York. They were very supportive.

It's like getting on one of those ridiculously frightening fair rides, or on a waterslide, or what more adventurous individuals might attest skydiving is like. You get all full of anticipation in the time leading up to it (oftentimes anxiety in my case, as I am the constant worrier), but then you come to a point where you have to finally make the decision to jump. It was scary right before, but then you just have to take a deep breath and do it, or say it, as the case may be. And after making the decision, the jump, it's exhilarating. I took my coworker I work with most directly out to coffee and told him, and although the first minute was a little awkward, it's so great to have it out there, to have someone I'm close to on board with the plan, and not have to be cagey or unsure about anything.

Of course right now I'm just in that very first few seconds of freefall, which are all glory and excitement, the thrill of getting used to the idea that it's actually happening after all. It's not any logistics or work at this point. I'm waiting to start coordinating the scheduling and details of the transfer, but I'm really excited about the move. ...Of course, this is all contingent upon the office really truly wanting me after all.... I recently found out that the NYC office is very progressive in addition to being successful, and there are many more senior designers, and some very cool policies in effect there. So I'm hoping that the moving arrangements, and the salary adjustment will also be a good deal, and it will all be clearly the right move.

Of course it's hard, especially for me, to leave so much behind. To acknowledge that you are choosing to leave is a big deal. And though my friends, family, and coworkers have expressed that they'll miss me, everyone has been so supportive in agreeing it's a great opportunity. I think they have to counter my guilt in "abandoning" things. My concern was in leaving my project work, and closest colleague, behind. And though he acknowledged that it will take some finessing to transition my projects out (I serve a kind of unique role in a few of them), he expressed a lot of support as well, and it is such a relief to have that over with. I'll miss some of the privileges I've had in our small Seattle office, and definitely the great people, but I am very excited for the opportunities that await me.

Onward and upward! Yay!

Now I just have to get the NYC office to respond to me in a timely manner. They're pretty hard to track down, I've found.

Hopefully, to use the jumping-off analogy, I won't smack into anything on the way or toward the end. Should be a decent process, given the policy of the firm supporting movement between offices, and paying for moving expenses. And hopefully, unlike a slide, I won't end up at the other side with a wedgie.

the abstract home improvement

in the NYTimes, quite the concept...



_click_

no, excuse me

So I went and got a massage today for the first time at the athletic club, something I've been wanting to do for a while.

I spent some quality time with the ellipticals, and took a shower and met the massage therapist at the door in my towel. She was like, oh, are you Erika? (you book these things in advance so they have your name.) Yep. She asked if there was some specific reason I was coming in, and I was like oh, not really, though my neck oddly hurts from sleeping last night... so she's like, okay, sure. We'll look at that, girl who strains herself not by athletic exertion, but by laying on her ass...

And I think after that we were speaking completely different languages. I was pretty sure that when I first came in I indicated that this was my first time getting a massage there. She told me to put my towel on the hook, and lie down on the massage table, as she left the very lowly-, mood-lit room, furnished in pale wood and black and white pictures of pebbles, for me to ready myself. So I was like, okay, if everyone gets naked, no big deal. Up I went, after putting the towel on the hook. So she's like, ready? as she comes in, and is like "oh... go ahead and put the top sheet over you..." and then slips out again. Oh, lovely. Wish you'd have told me there was a top sheet earlier, so I could avoid having this turn into a Seinfeld episode. Everything was so beige, and so dark, it was difficult do know that there were even sheets on the thing.

I didn't care that much, really, was too looking forward to the massage to think about it much. But I couldn't relax as much as I'd have liked to, because the music selection was some new-agey Sting mix, which I had an impossible time finding restful. At one point I actually tried to make small talk, and I was like, oh, sounds like French Rap, as it seemed Sting had some Francophone rappers backing him up. I think the mix was kind of world-esque, and these dudes may have been North Africans or French-African. ...but I think she thought I said something having to do with "trap," as in the trapezius muscle, which apparently she was working on, because she starts going off about how people always call it the trapezoid, and how silly it is, but it's not worth correcting people... and I was extremely confused initially, but then didn't feel like pointing another weird mistake in my time there out.

So the massage, though somewhat disappointingly gentle and not as effective as I'd wished for, wasn't bad and finally came to an end, and she leaves and says it was nice to meet me. So I re-towel and leave, going back to my locker to dress quickly and head home for some dinner. I'm half-naked again and there she shows up, waving a ticket at me. Apparently you have to sign for the thing, but of course this wasn't mentioned to me - it was assumed that I'd know - so I sign, standing there, in my underwear, in the middle of the locker room as she hovers over me.

Now I can rationalize the occurrences by guessing that it's not as common to get people in for massages the first time, maybe it's mostly regulars who can afford to drop money on massages every week, but still, it's not that good of an excuse. They're going to get a newbie every once in a while, and we shouldn't all have to learn the hard way with our naked butts up in the air.

26 now, and falling apart

I somehow managed to sleep so wrong last night that I've got a horribly painful muscle/ligament/somethingorother going on... I've had this ridiculous Quasimodo effect going on at work all day. For some reason my head has to have the muscle in question extended or it hurts. You'd think it would be the other way around.

On top of that I'm stuck crouched over a table, hand-inking a drawing. I don't think that's good for the situation, with my head all kinked up, straining to draw my lines smoothly. It's not even an interesting drawing; it's a plan of a park set within a hydroelectric facility. It's full of fences and power lines and pipes. My eyeball is threatening to revolt and leap out of my head from the strain.

Hopefully the massage I'm getting after work (a splurge for me) will remedy the issue. If that doesn't, I might have to resort to more extreme measures. Like personally removing my own spinal cord, as I threatened to do to my coworkers earlier today in a splash of melodrama.

heavier things

another reason why war is not okay:

War Torn: New York Times' video on the disturbing effects of war on soldiers back at home.

and a NYT photographer's moving account from his years covering the war.