quinnkdotme

Sort of the theme of today.

Let’s see, I started by heading to Waffle Shop with the parents for breakfast.  And, then I repented by walking home from the restaurant.

I practiced French, did my French homework, and watched a very tedious French video.

Then, I sorted laundry and filed paperwork.

Next, I worked out.

And, then I spent 30 minutes preparing myself to start my first attempt at knitting socks.  I have knitted hats, scarves, wraps, afghans, and ponchos…which were in style for a few minutes, but I have never tried socks.  A while back I bought a Joy of Socks kit.  Today, I finally broke down and started.

First, knitting on four needles is a little challenging at first.  I have finally completed my first round, and I anticipate round 2 to go a bit smoother.  I was also daunted by the fact that the Joy of Socks book only offers instructions for intermediate and advanced knitters.  I feel like I am still a beginner, so this is a leap of faith.

Second, the needles are a lot smaller and shorter than I am used to, so I am worried about dropping stitches. 

Third, I had to go to the library to get a Knitting 101 book to help me through the knitting socks.

So 45 minutes later, and I have 1 row of knitting completed.   Let’s hope my confidence improves and my speed.

Headed upstairs to cook a shepherd’s pie only to discover that the meat concoction I had rescued from the freezer was a stew with lots of potatoes and parsnips.  Definitely not requiring a lid of mashed potatoes.  So after a brief consult with the diners, a.k.a. my parents, I decided on popovers.  However, with my mental energy spent on sock knitting, I begged off the actual  baking of popovers and just stuck the stew in the oven.

Indulged in evening snack over glass of wine:  olives, crackers and cheese.  My mother commented that it looked like I was smoking pot in the basement as I had the munchies.  Well, given that I am 1) allergic to the stuff, 2) considerate of others and would never smoke in the house, if I smoked – which I don’t, and 3) hungry because all I had today for lunch was a celery stick, I told her the weed was not to be found.

Now, putting off row 2 of the socks… and actually  since you can only knit one at a time…. it’s putting off row 2 of the sock.  I will sign off, and provide you tomorrow with a sock update and hopefully good news that I managed to get back on track with my running schedule.

As ever,

K. Quinn

Apathy:  The fact the my running schedule has slipped to a sad shell of a schedule.  I end up running once a week and walking once a week.  I am not counting when I walk Verbal – he is a senior dog with a gimpy leg – distance and speed are not part of our vocabulary.

Always frustrating to get back in the swing of things.  So today, I was determined to push myself and yet still maintain my Zen version of running: running when my body feels like it and walking when it feels like it.  So I ran 75% of a 4.5 mile run.  And, I was determined to be OK with it.  So, I started at a walk, pushed to a run, and then when the hills got too steep, I slowed to a walk.  I am a slow runner to begin with so keeping it down to a 12 minute mile despite the walking made ma pretty satisfied.

When returning to running, you tend to forget the feeling that takes over when you are running regularly.  That feeling of calm and steady energy, it keeps you moving.  It allows you to breathe regularly, and you can even push your speed while feeling energized.  Unfortunately, when you start to run after a break, that feeling has all but disappeared as has the memory of it.  Your muscles feel heavy and soft.  Mentally, your head is telling you to quit.  Your body is shouting at you to quit.  And, you pray for that feeling of endurance to return soon.

Annoyance:  I am linked to a millionaire on Facebook.  Perhaps, I know more than one – don’t know for sure.  But today this person’s post was a photo of a tropical destination, and a note, “Living the dream.”  And, I am annoyed.

If it had been one of my hard-working friends who aren’t as rich monetarily as they are in love, friendship, and integrity, I would love to see that post.  I would think, “Good for them.”  But to have this person, who appears to have perfected the art of marrying well and lacks in the arts of selflessness and true kindness, post this message.  It irritates me.  Yes,  you are fabulously wealthy and can live in your many lavish houses in exotic destinations…. but it smacks of rubbing it in to post that you are living a dream that is unattainable by most.  Bully for you.  The self-indulgent and much self loved one percent.

Lest we think that I am just sour grapes and envious of this one, one percenter.  Think again.  I wouldn’t want to trade places with this person.  I am grateful for my friends and family and definitely consider these riches beyond compare.  Of course, as I discussed with my family last night, if I had won the mega lottery last night, I would have indulged with a cruise to Antarctica for the family.  And, then sent some anonymous bank orders to friends and families.  And, then I would have enjoyed some major philanthropic spending.  And,  I would also invest in some education for myself and a certain group of teens.  Hmmmm.  Aah well, I would have had to buy a ticket to even stand a chance.

Well, I guess that would be living a dream.

As ever,

K. Quinn

So the sign says in Brooklyn.  I’m not really sure that I would want to try Alive Fish Soda… so maybe this is a good argument for the use of commas.  I am sure the teens of teen group are grateful that they aren’t hanging out with me right now.  Comma usage probably doesn’t rate highly on their bucket lists.  Nor mine, truth be told.

Went to New York yesterday for a meeting that didn’t happen.  Turns out that was ok.  A good time for me to reacquaint myself with the city.  A beautiful day, and for probably the first time ever I really enjoyed New York.  Sad but true, I have always approached the city with apathy bordering on anxiety.   It’s too bad because it really is a great city.

I’m not sure what brought on the change – whether the fact that I have traveled to far denser, busier, hectic cities – or that I am just ready for new adventures.  I do know what caused the original feelings of apprehension, and I’m embarrassed to admit it.

My sister and I have a joke about my mother’s newspaper clippings.  We call it her danger news.  There was a while when we were both in college, when mail from our mother meant a nice card and several newspaper articles of how to avoid being mugged, robbed, attacked, or much worse.  My sister would post these on the communal fridge for her roommates’ enjoyment, and I would peruse and pitch.

However, prior to the college danger news, I was subjected to stories oral and written on horrible, dark deeds that occurred in New York.  These stories collected inside my subconscious and manifested themselves in my unique ability to behave like a neurotic maniac when visiting New York.  Can’t walk down a street unless there are throngs, preferably parades en masse of people.  Don’t walk alone… and one or two extra people isn’t enough.

Subway rides were an exercise of muscular tension the likes of which are experienced by weight lifters who are channeling all of their strength to lift dumbbells.  I would be channeling to bodily cling to the pole or hand grip; impossible to move me or my Kung Fu grip.

Movements were quick and jerky- particularly when trying to pay a street vendor, taxi cab, or give spare change to a street musician.  Hunker down and barrel head first down the street.  Don’t make eye contact… you get the picture.

Yesterday, I meandered down the street, enjoying the spring weather.  At dusk, I didn’t scurry inside but rather continued strolling to my parked car which I calmly entered.  I didn’t peal out from the curb, desperate to blend into the crowd or frantically escape the masses.  Instead, I smoothly entered traffic and did my best NY taxi cab impersonation as I deftly whipped around traffic to get to my destination….which actually was to escape the masses and head back to Pennsylvania.

Well, back safe and sound and still pondering alive fish soda.

As ever,

K. Quinn

Well, the March lion has returned.  So much for the balmy weather that I prefer.  This morning met me with biting, chilly winds.  Verbal and I shivered down the path and dreaded heading for home because it meant walking into the winds.  Brrrrrrr!

And, I am back to sitting next to the portable heater as I type.  So half of my body is toasty warm and the other half is cold by comparison.

The only positive I can come up with is that because of the wind, the blossoms are flying around in full force from the trees.  Snowing blossoms is completely tolerable and somewhat pretty.

Continued on the sending out resumes front.  Planning for a day trip to New York this week to meet with a woman who very involved with the NYC nonprofit scene.  And, hoping to squeeze in some other meetings as well.

French lessons are good – my dreams are now half in French, usually conjugating a verb, and half in English, usually not conjugating verbs.

And, on the cooking front, made flatbread, hummus, and tzatziki over the weekend.  So today we will continue on the Mediterranean kick and make a Greek Salad with Grilled Lemon Chicken.  Feel free to stop by for a bite.

I know my blogging has been a bit irregular and lacking on exotic travel.  Next blog will be Thursday and will share the Wednesday adventures with you.

Until then,

As ever,

K. Quinn

Wow,  just read a blog headline that said “Did my blog suck today?”  Um, well, I don’t think I want to know if mine did or does. Not that I think my blog is so wonderful… at least not all the time.  There are some days where there just isn’t much to write about.

And, sometimes I do try to think of compelling pursuits to blog about… like the Julie Julia book where she decides to make her way through Julia Child’s book.  Or I heard about a woman on NPR who decided to make a bunch of things from scratch that people normally buy – Worcester sauce, marshmallows, butter, etc.

So, if any of you have suggestions for what I could be doing… I might see how many masters of public health programs I can apply for.  Or I could try every yoga class in the State College metro area.  Or I could challenge myself to …hmmm… not sure… will have to work on this thought more.

Maybe I could work to watch every french film available on Netflix – that might scar me emotionally and improve my French vocabulary at the same time.

Or I could decide to try to live completely off the grid despite living in my parent’s house…um, that might make me the creepy 40 something that lives in the basement… so skip that.

Ok  – and maybe late at night is not the best time to try to come up with brilliant blogging material.

Off to bed – sweet dreams!

As ever,

K. Quinn

This morning as I walked Verbal in the fog, I was reminded of the e.e. cummings poem that begins…

Well, just finished watching two movies with Mom – Northanger Abbey – which was awesome… if you are a Jane Austen fan.  Otherwise, you might be in some level of hell.  Having never read the book, the whole plot was a mystery to me… really run.  And, then we watched Park Benches – a French flick.  It’s a little long, but it has some great goofy moments – and the French isn’t too hard to understand, so we enjoyed it.

Other than that, it was another random day here in State College – writing letters and emails, running around the park, and enjoying a sushi pack from Wegman’s.

Sooo exciting, I’m telling you.

More adventures tomorrow – and since I watched both my Netflix tonight…. tomorrow is wide open… oh dear!

As ever,

K. Quinn

Seriously, there are some days when it feels that futile, and no ‘Pop, goes the weasel’ at the end.

I have been stalking friends on LinkedIn… ok not quite, but kind of… to track down connections, to initiate introductions, to pursue dream jobs of a sort.  So, if you have been on the receiving end, you are not alone.

My day was a series of check lists:  Wrote several cover letters today and sent them out, check.  Bought more hangers, check.  Picked up dry cleaning, check.  Bought birthday gift, check.  Harangued a poor friend to pick up my mail – sorry poor friend -, check!  And, practiced my French, check!

Came across an op-ed piece about a young woman in a similar situation to mine… thought about being frustrated that she had written it instead of me.  Then thought – it’s probably cute and sweet coming from a 25-year-old, probably pathetic from a 40-something.

So instead, I cleaned up an article I wrote about fracking, and sent that to my editors.  I have been keeping them busy on the proof reading and editing front… sadly it has been primarily on the cover letter creation front.

With vacuuming and Dancing on the Stars on my horizon, it’s a wild and wacky Monday night in my near future!

As ever,

K. Quinn

Recovering from a sinfully good Panini sandwich…. focacia bread with fontina cheese, carmelized onions, and sautéed apples.  Yum.  Wash that down with some cheap red plonk and oooh, yummy goodness!

Yes, it’s Sunday evening… and while I got none of my paperwork done (and I am sure I just now committed some sort of grammatical violation) I did read my way through two books – which is good because my mother kept grilling me on books I hadn’t read yet.  And, I read the Sunday paper, and I studied my French homework.  Now, if I can catch up on reading that my sister sent me, I will be in business.

Was a beautiful spring day in PA.  Walked the dog, sat outside and enjoyed the sunshine.

Hope Sunday was as kind to you, my friends.

As ever,

K.  Quinn

Actually, I missed George Clooney in DC – which is a shame because I happily would have protested genocide outside the Sudanese embassy, and not for the purpose of meeting George.  Instead, I was down the street at the Folger Library learning about women writers during the time of Shakespeare.  So close in purpose… and yet….

Went down to DC yesterday, for the cherry blossoms, museums, and shoes… so I feel even more shallow in my purpose given George was arrested for a good cause.  At least I wasn’t arrested for a bad cause, which is more than I can say for the three women being loaded into a police car outside of Nordstroms Rack.  I wonder if they ran into George in jail… can you imagine… “I was shop lifting and then, there was George Clooney!”

Overheard a fascinating conversation while in Nordstroms Rack.  LaShonda (her real name, although not sure on the spelling) told her friend that, “I really don’t need to see her fat ass.   I have one, and so I don’t need to see another one.  And the way she waves it around, did you see what she was wearing?”  To which her nameless friend replied, “Sometimes having a fat ass is enough.”

I worked very hard at just staring straight ahead.  Turning around might have meant that I wanted/needed to way in on the conversation… to which I might have said, “And sometimes it is too much.”

Also, fascinating was the announcement I saw on the community board at Sheetz.  And while I am on the subject, I have to point out that it is kind of strange to have a community board at a gas station mini-mart.  Do people really go there to learn about what’s going on in their community?  Do the flyers get good face time?  Or is it just a convenient way to get rid of the flyers that some poor shmucks who volunteered to help at a local nonprofit were given to post “all over town?”  Well, in fact, in Marysville, they are seeking volunteers to audition for their puppet ministry.

Let me just start with- this appears to be the perfect intersection of all roads going to hell.  Not being a person of faith and having a fair dislike to hatred of puppets (OK, Muppets excluded – but I wouldn’t want to meet them in person),  proselytizing by proxy using puppetry is a guaranteed paganizing event.  Sorry, I had to go for the alliteration there…  it was there, and I went for it.  But seriously, puppets?

The dislike of puppets may be a family trait.  As my mother pointed out, my grandfather was a red muppet away from having his funeral service at the church he attended as a child.  The minister at the time was known for bringing a puppet in at the pulpit (there’s that alliteration again, love it!), and my grandfather stopped attending the church.

On the other hand, my family also has a soft spot for the marionettes and the “High on the Hill” song fromSound of Music.  “Yodel-lei-hee….”  So maybe it’s only non secular puppetry.

Wow, from George Clooney to puppets, my how the time flies.

Happy St. Patrick’s Day if that be your inclination!

As ever,

K. Quinn