It’s been a good long while since I had a geeky post but yesterday… oh yesterday Netflix released a “Watch Instantly” player for iPhone.

Oh how it’s been something I longed for.  Wanted.  Needed.  Had to have.  I mean I’m not entirely sure how often I’m going to need to stream movies or TV shows to my tiny little phone but the fact of the matter is?  NOW I CAN.  And really that’s what’s important.

At least that’s what I told myself as I was laying in bed yesterday morning checking out the app (which is available to download for free if you’re running iPhone OS 4).  I was still nestled all snug in my bed watching season 7 episode 1 of Buffy the Vampire Slayer and it gave me a big old warm fuzzy.  No, not because that’s the season when Spike has a soul.  Because I have a brand shiny new toy.  One that I don’t have to pay anything additional for.

I already have my iPhone.  I already have my Netflix. Now I have a fancy new media viewing device.

Also? I’m totally blind without my contacts in so I can’t see my TV from bed anyway.

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My hair babies.

My hair my hair my hair has gotten long.  Like… long.  It’s all past my shoulders and stuff.  If I wait another month or two I could get away with the Lady Godiva long hair covering my private bits kind of thing.

Hold your horses… I said I could.  Not that I was going to.

The point is that my hair is the longest it has been in years and I am damn happy about it.  The last time we revisited my hair was in February when I finally felt like it was long again.  It’s been 6 months and I spent a few days in a humid climate and I’m convinced that made it grow like a weed.

That’s not why I called you all here today.  In the process of growing out my hair my bangs have also gotten longer and longer.  They are no longer the blunt Cami-bangs of of yesteryear.  The problem is the bangs of yesteryear have taken so many forms that I now feel compelled to sit and contemplate which ones I like best… because I think it’s time to get them cut.

Stat.

Or in a few weeks.  You know.  Whenever works.

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Some days don’t really go the way you expect them to and despite our best efforts things get derailed.  It happens with weeks, months, years and lifetimes too.

It also happens with blog posts.  Today was such a day in the land of Cami-blogging.  I was writing a lovely post entitled “prints”.  It’s a memory I have from my trip to the airport a few weeks back.  Something I couldn’t shake, that I couldn’t stop thinking about it.  I got a few paragraphs in when suddenly my day took a turn in a different direction.  I no longer felt like I could do that memory justice.  All of the words I wished to lay down upon the screen echoed back hollow and unsatisfying.

After spending a good portion of my morning trying to decide what to write about I was none too pleased to find myself stopped, thwarted, derailed.

I got up and paced about.  Scratched my chin in a very thoughtful way.  Hmmmmm…. I thought to myself.  And when that did no good I decided that I would just pound these here keys and think about what it is that causes such a dynamic shift in thinking from one moment to another.  Sometimes it can be as tiny as a smile, a laugh or a nice glass of tea.  A phone call, an email or watching a neighbor walk past with their puppy.  Sometimes it’s something large and catastrophic.  Seriously.  I think the end of the world could totally impact my writing.

Sometimes though it’s just that the day has a change of pace and we have to adjust.  Correct.  Modify our thinking.  And sometimes, stop doing what we’re doing and move on to something else.

Hm…  I think I’ll go brush my long luxurious hair.  Or something.

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For the most part my resurgence in posting as of late is just me diving back into myself.  Allowing me a chance to be me for a while and to work with something I love.  Words.

My love affair with words started when I was young.  Very young.  When my older brother started reading I was outraged that I wasn’t reading too… so I learned.  Then I started stringing words together.  Sentences were fine.  A paragraph was well and good but when I was a child I enjoyed building a collection of words to make a point or to make a cadence I was pleased with.

A few years later and there I am with a composition book tucked into my bag at all times writing poem after poem.  From the age of ten to 22 I wrote poetry non stop.

Now wait a minute, no.  I never said it was good poetry.  I just said I wrote it.  I was compelled to write it.  I stopped writing poetry about 11 years ago.  I’ve had a few upticks where I would write for a week and then stop, but it is something I miss about me.  So I’m diving back in.

Today I’m just taking a peek at some things I’ve written in the last couple of years.  Luckily it’s a small bunch to sort through.  But to begin my re-acquaintance with the form of writing I so dearly love?  A poem I wrote last summer.

From the rooftops
I would see more than I can imagine
I would know more than I would wish
I could feel the wind in my face
In my hair
The air stealing my breath as it rushes
Too fast to inhale
Suffocating me as it whips past

From the rooftops
Amazing things are possible
But the distance I would fall, kills.

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Waking up this morning there was a chill in the air that was unexpected. August in Portland is drawing to a close and in my memory this is usually the very hottest time of the year here. Anything more than a tank top and skirt is unbearable if we go out in the heat so we either lay in the air conditioned house careful to keep the curtains drawn or seek some other cool place to rest and relax. There are no trips to the park or zoo when the weather is in the 90’s because here in Oregon that’s the worst weather. Better to wait for a day that’s overcast and cool or even rainy than to risk sunburn and heatstroke.

Why would I want to go for a hike with temperatures threatening to reach 100?

But like I said, today came with a chill in the air. Stepping out my front door I was amazed that long sleeves seemed to be a necessity. I know the weather will turn again. It’s not the end of our summer and I’m sure I’ll find a way to enjoy the next warm days that come my way. I’ll lounge on a sunny patio or hide in the cool house. Make sun tea. Draw with sidewalk chalk. Go for a stroll in the park. But this day with its cool breeze and wispy white clouds is a reminder of those mild Portland days that I love best.

They’ll come. They always do.

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It’s not yet midnight here on the West-coast.  It’s not even close to midnight actually.  Prime time TV is still on.  At least I think it is… they still call it prime time don’t they? Hell I don’t know.  I don’t watch TV, I have internets.

Whatever.  That’s neither here nor there.  What is both here and there though is that for the first time in months… maybe even this year… I could actually post every day this week.  You know.  The weekday days.  The ones not at the beginning and the end that don’t start with “S” though they do end in “day”?

Those days?

The 5 consecutive ones we have every week?

Those ones, yes!

If I post this post today (which I am totally doing) then yeah.  I’ll have posted all those days.

Make sense?

So in honor of that I am going to post this list which includes a few, but not all, of the things I did today instead of writing a post.

Played dolls
Sent email
Read several chapters of a book. Aloud
Scrubbed the inside of a refrigerator
Scrubbed the outside of a refrigerator
Ate lunch
Skipped breakfast
Yes that does too count as something I did
Installed software
Was a pin cushion for my cats
Used a chisel and hammer to “defrost” a freezer
Yes that is too the way you do it when it’s practically stuck shut
Made Nachos
Noted that Ray Liotta’s career is headed down hill
Chewed gum

Riveting isn’t it?  Yeah.  Whatever.  It still counts as a post.

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I do not drink coffee.

Yes.  I did used to be a barista, thanks for remembering that.  Yes, I did drink a lot of coffee stuffs when I was a barista… but not coffee.

That’s right.  You read me right.  I didn’t even drink coffee then.  And why would I when I could drink espresso?  I may try a sip of a friend’s coffee from time to time just to confirm my belief that coffee is not the drink for me, but I am not a coffee drinker.

Will I have a mocha from time to time?  Mmhmmm.  You bet I will.

But I haven’t been a coffee drinker since I was in high school working in the theater program and the techs that worked at the local theater taught me to drink my coffee with ice cream in it.

Yes.  With ice cream.  All melty and good and sweet.  It occurred to me at that moment that if I had to put ice cream in something to consume it then it was probably something I did not need.

If you used to read this blog way back in the day, you may be aware that I used to have something of a Cherry Coke habit.  Yes.  Cherry Coke.  That bubbly sweet soda.  But that’s not good for me.  It’s not good for you either.  It took me forever to kick the cola devil and I didn’t want to sit around drinking just water all the time.

Don’t get me wrong… I love water.  Water is good on a multitude of levels.  It’s good to drink, it falls from the sky, freezes to snow, fills our rivers, waters our plants and makes swimming pools possible.  Also, it’s a huge comfort when upset to fill the tub with hot water and soak in it until it drops below the temperature of your body and you can watch goosebumps form on your skin as your fingers and toes are wrinkled like prunes.

But that doesn’t mean I want to drink it all the time.

So I started drinking tea again.  Iced tea to be precise.  And now I find that tea time is anytime.  At least during the Summer.  But as the Summer starts to draw to a close and kids prepare to head back to school, stores start to stock Halloween items and prepare for Thanksgiving I am all too aware that soon my iced tea options will begin to run dry.  My order of ice tea will soon be met with blank stares and quiet apologies…  sigh.

Oh iced tea.  I’ll miss you come winter.  Except, you know, that I make you at home all the time.

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As I sat here thinking, contemplating, reasoning, mulling over what it is I wanted to write about it occurred to me that none of the things I could write about were things that I could write about.  Further mental examination caused me to ponder what it is that I should be writing about.  Not just today but on any given day.

It was a real think, think, think kind of moment and while I’m not quite ready to lean against a tree stump and dip my paw into the honey jar, I am ready to figure some stuff out.  To get back into the swing of things.

I used to blog every day.  Yes.  Every. Day.  Even those two days at the beginning and end of the week that start with an “S” and end in a “day”.  I couldn’t be prevented from posting.  I would write at night when things were quiet, or in the morning when I had a bit of time to myself and there was never a question of what to write.  Things just presented themselves.

But since taking a break from the daily, or lately even weekly blogging, it’s become incredibly clear that the thing that makes coming up with a topic for a blog post the most difficult is not blogging.

Yes.  You read that right.  If I don’t post for a while I suddenly have no idea what to write about.  No sense of blogging direction.  This here blog falls into disrepair and I have no idea where to start.  It’s a way of thinking that gets pushed aside when you’re not actively engaged in the act of writing.

Like when I was a teenager and I kept a diary.  I would write in it twice a day for weeks on end… but if I skipped a day or two I would stop for weeks.  That’s how it’s been with these pages for over a year.  If I have to post a few of these introspective blatherings to find my place?  If I have to get all meta on your asses and post about posting?  If that’s what it takes for me to get back on track then I guess that’s just what I have to do.

Either that or I could get back to my roots…

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I’m pretty tech savvy.  Ish.  I know my way around my laptop.  I can troubleshoot my own problems.  I know how to restart things and back things up and smash them against the wall when need be… but there are some things that I am just not equipped to handle.  At all.  In any way shape or form.

Like when my computer overlord starts to tell me everything I’m doing as I’m doing it.  Announcing each program I access, each file that is selected, reading the little notices to me.  It even announced to me when tweetdeck had a new window pop up.  I don’t need notifications on my twitter notifications!!!

And then… then it wouldn’t stop.  I felt like my computer overlord was monologue-ing trying to keep me distracted while the rest of the computers slowly started sneaking up on the city of Portland.  Okay… maybe that’s not what I thought.  What I really thought was “Shit! What combination of buttons did I accidentally press while attempting to do a screen capture that made my computer start talking in an obnoxious robot voice and what combination of buttons do I press to make it stop… and can I finish what I’m doing before it drives me insane?”

The answer was no.

I started pushing buttons.  I started pushing more buttons.  I tried to turn the sound off.  Yeah.  That didn’t work.  Apparently with the talking comes the inability to change the volume level.  What the hell computer?  What the hell.  So I shut down what I was working on.  Sent a panicked message asking WTF to do to fix this and restarted my darling little macbook thinking that would surely do the job.

Yeah.  No.  It didn’t.

Luckily by the time my computer started back up I’d received instructions on how to make it stop (oh please for the love of technology make it stop).

Which brings me to my point.  While I can find my way around the computer world just fine thank you very much, more importantly I always know when to stop and ask for help.

Which is kind of often.  Maybe.

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You know what we haven’t talked about in a while babies?  Underwear.  That’s right.  Undies.  Panties.  Undergarments.

They’re a big deal.  A really big deal.  They’re a fundamental part of your everyday life, whether you think about them or not.  Wait, do you think about them?  Is that just me?  Do you have any idea what a good pair of panties can do for a girl?  A lot.  A whole lot.  The right undies can have you walking tall with confidence and grace.  The wrong panties?  Will give you a pantyline.  Or a wedgie.

But it occurs to me that women tend to shift.  They tend to change the kind of undies they wear throughout their life.  From age to age, relationship to relationship and even different times of the month can require different types of underwear for comfort as well…  but boys.

Hey boys?  What about you?  It seems to me that all the boys… if you’d like I can call you men, does that make you feel better?  All the men I’ve consulted on the underwear issue have been regulars to one type of undies.  Boxers, briefs, bikinis…  a few of you think commando is the way to go.

Now it’s not always the same kind of undies their mama’s made them wear.  There was often a switch some time between puberty and mid 20s. It’s just really different than the way girls seem to go.

Why am I bringing this up?  Why is this of consequence to me?  Because I just came back from the Midwest and I saw way too many pantylines there for my own comfort.  Somebody needs to teach a class on the subject.
Please.

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