About four weeks ago I was in Portland feeding $20 bill to a TriMet fare machine and getting totally buried under a pile of Sacajawea coins. Three weeks ago I had houseguests and got just a glimpse of the Pilcrow Lit Fest and had dinner with assorted amazing ladies (Jami, Zulkey, Diantha, and then Lauren and Dana the next night). Two weeks ago I planted a garden. Last week had another houseguest (Chris’s mom!) and we took her to IKEA. Four days ago I went to see Lynda Barry and buy her new book. And this weekend I made salads, did laundry, and took a whole bunch of junk to Salvation Army so that now, for the love of Jiminy Cricket on a cracker, we finally have room to fit the Christmas tree in the storage space where it’s supposed to go and will henceforth get it the hell out of the back sunroom where I’ve been keeping random stuff like suitcases and plastic milk crates and undiscarded boxes and spare crock pots and THIS BLOG. Hello! I’m sorry I’ve been treating this site like the Christmas tree.
But I trust you know that I’ve been alive, especially if you’ve been following me elsewhere. There’s been writing (not enough, as always) and gardening (in the sense that I put some seeds in the dirt one day, and a week later they actually sprouted, and I know I’m new to all this, but still, I did not quite expect that, and what speedy service this Nature thing has) and running (very slowly, so slow I can’t stand to see my sad shuffling shadow lurching shakily across the pavement and I’m sure that in actual 3D I look like a Ray Harryhausen animation or something). But it’s all for a better good.
It’s been hard to look at photos and news footage of the flooding in Iowa City this past week, because it’s even more extensive than what happened when I was there in 1993. It was the summer before I went to grad school, and the water went over the Coralville Dam spillway for the first time ever and eroded the floodplain down to bedrock and trilobites and dead dinosaurs. There were sandbags everywhere, and dead fish in the Hardee’s parking lot, and more than once the evening news urged everyone to stockpile jugs of water and fill our bathtubs at night, in case the floodwaters polluted the water supply the way it did in Des Moines. I had a hideous telemarketing job selling supplemental homeowner’s insurance to Sears credit cardholders, and there was a part in the pitch where I had to say, “What would you do if your home was damaged in one of the strong storms we’ve been having?” Shift to serious tone here, the script specified. I winced every time I said it. Somehow I talked the shift manager into letting me work the no-annual-fee Discover card campaign instead, because, GOD. Anyway, it’s strange to imagine that it’s even worse this time around. The flooding, I mean, not the telemarketing industry. And hang in there, all ye Hawkeyes. You too, Cedar Rapids folks—may the waters recede and your town go back to smelling like cereal.
Oh, and for the librarians and other publishing folks among you, I’m going to be at ALA at the end of the month. I’ll be repping the company I work for (Albert Whitman & Co!) at booth 2428. Stop by and say hi!
I remember whenever the corn syrup smell from the Quaker Oatmeal factory would overpower Iowa City, I would have to smoke a cigarette just to smell something different. Now I kind of miss it. And now I will have a bowl of Quaker instant oatmeal to honor that memory.
Also, god, the 1993 flood. I was so happy I lived high up on a hill during that time. Did you see the recent picture of the Iowa River and the UI Arts building? And I thought it was bad in 1993.
Btw, donation info. for the “2008 Flood Fund” can be found here: http://www.gcrcf.org/
P.S. And so jealous you got to see Lynda Barry!
If I weren’t on maternity leave, I would definitely go to see you speak at ALA. You’re awesome.
Alice: I’m not speaking… just working the booth for Albert Whitman!
Mykull: The Quaker Oats plant in Cedar Rapids has the oat smell. The ADM factory has the corn syrup smell. And then there are 3 more smells but I forget what they are. Get your smells straight in the City of Five Smells!
My relatives have been sandbagging relentlessly, to little avail. Des Moines, where my folks are, is doing ok, but it’s still chilling to know that they didn’t increase the levees beyond the crest line established in ’93. I remember being without water for weeks. it was awful.
If history follows the same paths, we should see a lovely flood season out there in Portland next year (Oregon’s last big floods were in ’94). Can’t wait!
I’m also jealous you got to see Lynda Barry! Besides her books, I have personalized 8 x 10’s of Listening Marlys and StrongGirl Marlys — and a friend has Perfect Pancake Marlys (can’t you just see it?) Lynda was selling individual Pictures of Marlys for a while, don’t know if she still is. When you’ve had a chance to look at the new book, please let us know what you think!
The random #8 looks like a mile marker for a marathon or triathlon.
Do you like cab drivers? 🙂
Hi Wendy! This is your Art Cafe stalker. I was so excited to meet you that I think I sounded kind of nutty (I may have repeated myself about 6 times), and I wanted to talk to you, but I didn’t want to interupt your dinner too much. I really do enjoy your writing; I loved “the New Me”, both as a reader and as someone who has dealt with weight issues. Your Bust column is always so biting. Anyway, I hope to see you around the neighborhood again sometime and I will try not to be so awkward!
-Emily
Hi Emily!
You didn’t seem to be repeating yourself or being awkward or anything! We should have talked more. Also, don’t judge me and Chris for ordering 2 pizzas. We did not know they would be so BIGGG.