I walked Doofus to the park again this evening...but alas, there were no puppies. Not a single pudgy ball of golden fuzz to be had. Sigh.
There was a very leggy, very bouncy 3-month-old black lab named Sam. But that's not the same.
Oh, why have the puppies forsaken me?
Wednesday, June 29, 2005
The good...
There are two new golden retriver puppies (brother and sister) in my neighborhood, one in my building and one in a neighboring building. I've seen the girl puppy several times in the last week, by happy coincidence, but yesterday evening when I walked Doofus to the park, what did I spy?
Two puppies! Two golden, roly poly puppies! With coal black noses and eyes and tiny whip tails!
Say it with me now: Awwwwww!
They were more enamored with Doofus than Doofus was with them. I think he was a tad jealous, as he is quite used to being in the spotlight wherever we go (he may be dumb as a post, but he is a looker).
An Australian tourist family stopped to ohh and ahh and cuddle and pet. One of the kids asked if Doofus was the puppies' mother. The answer, of course is "no" (he's a boy) and "no" (he's been neutered). But it was a cute tableau, nonetheless.
Two puppies! Two golden, roly poly puppies! With coal black noses and eyes and tiny whip tails!
Say it with me now: Awwwwww!
They were more enamored with Doofus than Doofus was with them. I think he was a tad jealous, as he is quite used to being in the spotlight wherever we go (he may be dumb as a post, but he is a looker).
An Australian tourist family stopped to ohh and ahh and cuddle and pet. One of the kids asked if Doofus was the puppies' mother. The answer, of course is "no" (he's a boy) and "no" (he's been neutered). But it was a cute tableau, nonetheless.
...the bad...
Last night before bellydance class, my teacher said that a local schoolteacher had been reprimanded for introducing bellydance to her students. She said she was trying to find more information about exactly what the situation is.
This is another classic example of how, despite its burgeoning popularity, so many people have these unfair stereotypes about bellydance.
In the interest of setting the record straight for whomever may come across this post, here's the straight scoop:
Bellydance is empowering for women, not demeaning (in fact, many bellydancers I know would be classified as feminists).
Bellydance is not designed to entice men. Bellydance is in fact performed (mostly) by women, mostly for women. Go to almost any bellydance performance (one exception may be restaurant shows where the show is clearly secondary to the food), and you'll see that the overwhelming majority of the audience is women.
Bellydance is not simply standing and shimmying in a sparkly costume. Bellydance is a physically challenging dance, and a hell of a good workout (especially for the same core muscles targeted by Pilates), yet is low impact enough to be accessible to women of a wide range of shapes, sizes and fitness levels. And you try maintaining a shimmy for several minutes, or layering a shimmy over a second (and maybe even third) movement. It's damn hard work! And not all bellydance involves sequins. American Tribal Style bellydance, and its many derivatives, are often very colorful and festive, but are far from sparkly.
Bellydance is not stripping. Bellydancers do not remove any clothing when they dance. Sometimes bellydancers who use a veil in their performance choose to have their veil artfully wrapped around them when they begin their performance, then later unwrap it when they wish to actually begin using it. But they are wearing a full costume underneath! This is not to say that a stripper has never worn a bellydance costume on stage. But if a stripper comes onto stage dressed in a cop costume, does that mean that police officers are strippers. Hardly!
This is another classic example of how, despite its burgeoning popularity, so many people have these unfair stereotypes about bellydance.
In the interest of setting the record straight for whomever may come across this post, here's the straight scoop:
Bellydance is empowering for women, not demeaning (in fact, many bellydancers I know would be classified as feminists).
Bellydance is not designed to entice men. Bellydance is in fact performed (mostly) by women, mostly for women. Go to almost any bellydance performance (one exception may be restaurant shows where the show is clearly secondary to the food), and you'll see that the overwhelming majority of the audience is women.
Bellydance is not simply standing and shimmying in a sparkly costume. Bellydance is a physically challenging dance, and a hell of a good workout (especially for the same core muscles targeted by Pilates), yet is low impact enough to be accessible to women of a wide range of shapes, sizes and fitness levels. And you try maintaining a shimmy for several minutes, or layering a shimmy over a second (and maybe even third) movement. It's damn hard work! And not all bellydance involves sequins. American Tribal Style bellydance, and its many derivatives, are often very colorful and festive, but are far from sparkly.
Bellydance is not stripping. Bellydancers do not remove any clothing when they dance. Sometimes bellydancers who use a veil in their performance choose to have their veil artfully wrapped around them when they begin their performance, then later unwrap it when they wish to actually begin using it. But they are wearing a full costume underneath! This is not to say that a stripper has never worn a bellydance costume on stage. But if a stripper comes onto stage dressed in a cop costume, does that mean that police officers are strippers. Hardly!
...and the delicious
Starbucks was handing out free, individually packaged (so cute!) portions of its Java Chip (my favorite!) ice cream today. As an added bonus, they came with those grade school nostalgia-inducing little flat wooden "spoons." Oh, happy day!
Personally, I think 'bucks should sell its ice cream in those little 4-ounce sizes. That is technically the proper portion size for ice cream, after all. I suspect that would make it much easier to exercise a bit of moderation.
Personally, I think 'bucks should sell its ice cream in those little 4-ounce sizes. That is technically the proper portion size for ice cream, after all. I suspect that would make it much easier to exercise a bit of moderation.
Tuesday, June 28, 2005
Decay and decline
I'm trying to decide which body part is most likely to give out while I'm at the office. My brain, from atrophy? My eyes, from excessive rolling? Or my butt, from excessive sitting? Maybe I should start an office pool.
In other workplace news, I was equally horrified and delighted when mere moments before I stepped out to meet He Who Puts Up With Me for a little jaunt to the library, my boss had spied and greeted him while leaving to go to an appointment.
So what? Well, what could have been a run-of-the-mill exchange of pleasantries between two people who had briefly met only once before took a severely ironic turn when HWPUWM accidentally called my boss by the wrong name. And not just any wrong name...the name of my boss's predecessor.
This little social misstep was made all the more potent by the fact that for a good few months after my boss started working here, he took every opportunity to thrash and trash his predecesor (who happened to be a very talented, intelligent, funny and all-around good guy), ripping on the work he had done and questioning his skills and experience. This continued until a few pissed-off souls from other departments told him to knock it the hell off.
So of course it was to those very souls I ran with this little tale the moment I set foot back in the office. They were as delighted as I was.
In other workplace news, I was equally horrified and delighted when mere moments before I stepped out to meet He Who Puts Up With Me for a little jaunt to the library, my boss had spied and greeted him while leaving to go to an appointment.
So what? Well, what could have been a run-of-the-mill exchange of pleasantries between two people who had briefly met only once before took a severely ironic turn when HWPUWM accidentally called my boss by the wrong name. And not just any wrong name...the name of my boss's predecessor.
This little social misstep was made all the more potent by the fact that for a good few months after my boss started working here, he took every opportunity to thrash and trash his predecesor (who happened to be a very talented, intelligent, funny and all-around good guy), ripping on the work he had done and questioning his skills and experience. This continued until a few pissed-off souls from other departments told him to knock it the hell off.
So of course it was to those very souls I ran with this little tale the moment I set foot back in the office. They were as delighted as I was.
Thursday, June 23, 2005
Bad, bad blogger!
Yes, I know. I've been a very bad blogger. I must admit, I had no idea quite how bad until I logged on and saw that it had been almost a month.
I'm so very sorry.
But today is a perfect day to reform my bad behavior. Why? Because it started with a thick spread of my homemade chunky strawberry jam (made from organic local berries purchased Sunday at the Pike Place Market) on a slice of Essential Bakery's Fremont Sour White bread. Yum. It's the first strawberry jam I've ever made, and it was delish! (Note to He Who Puts Up With Me...I lied. I did put in the black peppercorns and the mint! Hahahahahahahaha! Who do you think you are to question Jam Goddess Christine Ferber? And before strawberry season is over, you will eat strawberries with slivered basil, and you WILL like it! It, too, is more delicious than words can adequately describe.)
Of course, I might have saved my jam fest for tomorrow, if I had known that my boss was going to bring in a box of Top Pot doughnuts. Mmmmmm...chocolate for breakfast.
Today being the gorgeous, sunny Seattle day that it is, my work cohorts and I decided to take a visiting collegue (from a city in the gentile south) down to Pike Place for lunch. We meandered through the main arcade, pointing out the "throwing fish" guys, the local produce, the gorgeous flowers, etc. Then we got down to business, grabbing greasy (in a good way!) cheesy smoked turkey sandwiches from Beechers and walking down to Victor Steinbruck Park, where we could nosh while soaking up the sun, fending off the pigeons, and pointing out the ferries and other notable Seattle sites.
I so rarely walk through the main part of the Market this time of year (too crowded with tourists), but I must admit it was a pleasure to do so today. Of course, when I'm with other people, I am forced to walk at about one-tenth of my usual pace, so I didn't have the irritation of having slow people in my way. I was one of the slow people.
We capped off lunch with a bag of ripe, sweet, gorgeous, local Ranier cherries the size of plums. God, I love summer!
Tonight, we're going, on the company's dime, to Restaurant Zoe in Belltown. Hmmm...what to have, what to have?
I'm so very sorry.
But today is a perfect day to reform my bad behavior. Why? Because it started with a thick spread of my homemade chunky strawberry jam (made from organic local berries purchased Sunday at the Pike Place Market) on a slice of Essential Bakery's Fremont Sour White bread. Yum. It's the first strawberry jam I've ever made, and it was delish! (Note to He Who Puts Up With Me...I lied. I did put in the black peppercorns and the mint! Hahahahahahahaha! Who do you think you are to question Jam Goddess Christine Ferber? And before strawberry season is over, you will eat strawberries with slivered basil, and you WILL like it! It, too, is more delicious than words can adequately describe.)
Of course, I might have saved my jam fest for tomorrow, if I had known that my boss was going to bring in a box of Top Pot doughnuts. Mmmmmm...chocolate for breakfast.
Today being the gorgeous, sunny Seattle day that it is, my work cohorts and I decided to take a visiting collegue (from a city in the gentile south) down to Pike Place for lunch. We meandered through the main arcade, pointing out the "throwing fish" guys, the local produce, the gorgeous flowers, etc. Then we got down to business, grabbing greasy (in a good way!) cheesy smoked turkey sandwiches from Beechers and walking down to Victor Steinbruck Park, where we could nosh while soaking up the sun, fending off the pigeons, and pointing out the ferries and other notable Seattle sites.
I so rarely walk through the main part of the Market this time of year (too crowded with tourists), but I must admit it was a pleasure to do so today. Of course, when I'm with other people, I am forced to walk at about one-tenth of my usual pace, so I didn't have the irritation of having slow people in my way. I was one of the slow people.
We capped off lunch with a bag of ripe, sweet, gorgeous, local Ranier cherries the size of plums. God, I love summer!
Tonight, we're going, on the company's dime, to Restaurant Zoe in Belltown. Hmmm...what to have, what to have?
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
