Northern Noise

Bob's fortune cookie: "Alas! The onion you are eating is someone else's water lily." I'm not sure what that might mean, exactly....

Today my son asked me what the scariest moment of my life was.  It was hard to answer, since there are so many different types of fear.  His follow up question was if I had ever seen a ghost.  That one was easy.  No, I haven't ever seen a ghost.  But I've felt their presence and heard them, so I do think they're real.  At this point, my husband would be telling me how silly I am, since ghosts can't exist.  But I'm willing to accept that they do.  Here's why. When I was a kid we had a ghost in our house.  My mom, who believes in spirits, saw it and stands by its existence. My dad, who declared that he did not believe in ghosts, told the story of the strange happenings in our house in Thompson Park.  Apparently things would move, or get hidden, in funny places like a child had stashed them.  I was 5 or 6 and my brother was little, but still my parents were a bit befuddled.  And then apparently one day my dad came into the house...

I love horror movies.  Not gross slasher flicks, but truly scary, edge of your seat, can't put your toes off the bed at night, things that go bump and make you scream kind of movies.  Usually Ali and I watch scary movies together.  We snuggle on the couch, turn off all the lights, burn some candles and proceed towards terror.  Tonight, Ali's gone so I've convinced Bob to watch some with me.  I can't wait to be scared. The first time I ever remember being really, really scared by a story was January of 1991.  I was sleeping on a friend's floor in Portland, Oregon.  I was there all by myself, in a strange place, reading The Shining by Stephen King.  There is a scene in the book, which both movies omit, when the topiary comes to life and it's absolutely terrifying.  Even Salem's Lot , which is pretty scary, didn't affect me like The Shining .  Needless to say the movie, the original with Jack Nicholson, is one of my favorites when I want ...

I've really been enjoying these last few weeks away from non-profits and stress from crazy people.  My life is back to my family, my job, my courses and balance.  Still cracks me up though.  When the entire FST board decided to resign, I had Jed with me at the meeting.  On the way out to the car afterwards, we had the following conversation. Jed:  "So mom, you're quitting the board, huh?" Mama:  "Yup son, I am." Jed:  "Hmm.  Quitting.  Does that mean you're like Sarah Palin?" (At this point, I had to do my deep breathing and count to ten so that I didn't react angrily.) Mama: "Jedidiah.  If you ever call me a Republican again, you will be in REAL trouble." Jed: "You're right mom.  Sorry.  That was a low blow." Lord give me strength.....

"Once on the elevator , elevator etiquette experts strongly recommend standing as close to a wall or corner as possible to make room for other riders. You should move to the back of the elevator if you are going a long way, and stay in the front if you plan to get off soon. If you decide to stand in front of the elevator buttons, be prepared to be asked to push buttons for other elevator riders. While in an elevator , you shouldn't eat, smoke, or talk on your cellphone. Many people prefer to ride an elevator in silence, so if you have to strike up a conversation with someone, keep the topic neutral, and your tone of voice low. If other people in the elevator seem irritated or upset by your conversation, you may want to change the topic or quiet down. Step aside for people getting off the elevator , and be sure not to block the door when the elevator stops.  ~Wisegeek.com Heh heh heh.  I've discovered a new hobby.  It's called "freak out the strangers on ...

Sitting in a hotel room in Bellevue, Washington.  Got a great bottle of wine at World Market, cable tv, a mystery novel, and the good news that my lumps ain't cancer.  Gonna drink some, read some, and hit the hay.  Other than missing the family, life is good.

"Middle age is when you're sitting at home on a Saturday night and the telephone rings and you hope it isn't for you."  ~Ogden Nash   When I was really young, Saturday night meant getting to stay up late and either read or watch television, depending on whether the folks were home or not.  As a teenage, Saturday night meant driving aimlessly around Kenai trying desperately to act cool, and usually not succeeding.  But I always had good friends, good music, usually a California Cooler or two and a lot of laughs.  We'd end up at someone's house and watch the brand new channel of music videos and eat a lot of junk food.  In college, Saturday nights didn't start until 10:00 or so. Head with the buds to hit a party or a bar, dance, drink and be merry.  Be home by 4 or 5, and sleep all day. Somehow, life has changed.  If I'm not in bed by 8:30 on a Saturday night, it's a wild one.  Currently it's not quite 6:00 pm and I'm pretty settled in. ...

Hold on, man.  We don't go anywhere with "scary," "spooky," "haunted,"  or "forbidden" in the title.  ~From Scooby-Doo In 6th grade, I was invited to a Halloween party at David Oberg's house.  There weren't many times as kids when someone had a "big" party, in the basement of a house while the parents were upstairs instead of directing the whole show.  It was a Halloween party, which meant a costume.  It was also a chance for all the coolness that 6th grade life offered.  It was a big deal. Most years I was a vampire for Halloween.  I had a fascination with the bloodsucking creatures of the night, from a young age. ( In fact, I was convinced that the spirit of a vampire lived in the shadow on our bathroom door.)  When people asked what I wanted to be when I grew up, I responded that  I wanted to be an astronaut or a vampire.  However, a real party required a real costume, so I decided to stretch my comfort zone. I don...

"It's amazing what you can do with an E in A-level art, twisted imagination and a chainsaw." ~Damien Hirst, weird British artist . Once upon a time, a boy named Billy Bob was growing up in Buford, Georgia.  Billy Bob was a good boy with a great imagination and a quest for adventure.  When Bob (he decided the name had to be one, or the other)  was 19 he decided to walk from Georgia to Alaska.  His mother talked him out of it, but the desire for wide open spaces and the Last Frontier called to him.  He didn't make it until 1990, but when he did he knew he was home, and here he's stayed for 20 years, 2 months, and 17 days. Now Bob lives in a little house on a hill in Goldstream.   He's happy in Alaska and takes good care of his family.  In exchange, he gets to roam the hills, piss off the porch whenever he feels like it, and use power tools.  His favorite power tool is the chainsaw.  When we first moved out here from town, we had 5 and ...