Dpm

Accidental title!
"Dpm" has multiple meanings.
Isn't plurality nice?
But this was little Miss Negative Mind's original intention:
DON'T WANT TO BE LIKE.......
SOME PEOPLE.
Very, very plural.

Michigan

Yesterday I was talking to a girl who, like me, has family members in Michigan. She said she thinks Michigan sucks. I do not agree, and moreover, I just found a fun post about Michigan.

Possibly for all cities

Humans may perceive themselves to be involved in a kind of hub of excitement and activity. But then, the humans can also choose to shovel a pathway out, and to seek something quieter.

Kinds of people you want to meet

Something to think about for the New Year.
Kinds of people
Kinds of music
Kinds of color
Kinds of food
Kind

A Holiday...

Thinking about the hotel being a "hellhole," while peeling a tangerine, getting pounced on by an energetic puppy, laughing so hard it turns to hysterical crying, running to the kitchen, where the puppy still jumps up and standing by the counter, crying and trying to finish the fruit.
And other stuff is too tiring to write about.
But the cheap version of Irish cream in that glass tonight tastes nice!!!

Can I go out on a limb...

Sometimes i just love music.

Amusing!

And a source of sea shanties, too.
http://artofmanliness.com/
I also want to try an Italian beef giardiniera hot pepper sandwich...

Finer media moments

Watched the "Meet the Natives" finale last night, and then today I found "Hole in the Donut Travels." Hah!

Still like

some books I bought in my twenties, like Blue Jean Buddha and Body Outlaws. (I read the second edition, which has the best cover, in my opinion.)

Mmmm

Greens, water, tangerine, and herbal tea are some examples of what I need to consume after too much holiday baked goods and sugar! Yes, now I can breathe more easily, and electric light is not stressing me out anymore.

Winter music

Icicle
Icicle
(Icicle)
Icicle.
Doughnut Song!

This and that

This Brittany Murphy article and that video and these Gia quotes and this show and this interview. Kind of makes me feel like we live in a society that values women on an extremely mediocre and superficial level. In a box of conformity, the sexuality/physicality trend of the moment. A sick, sick, sick society. Honest to god, it makes no sense. I'm also vaguely remembering a dream last night, that had something to do with libraries, museums, and wanting to walk streets safely at night, and another girl or woman telling me that this wasn't fair.

Rather exciting

This is what was exciting to me: my sophomore year roommate, an exchange student from Japan, "friended" me and I got in touch with her freshman year roommate and mine! (3 from college, total.) Two of the girls are studying divinity! I know we all have different beliefs and takes on religion, but for some reason I think that's cool. Now I'm going to check out my freshman roommate's blog. Yay!!! (The happy sort of exciting.)
~~~~
COPS: This is not as relevant to the title of the post, but my friend wrote about the unfortunate snowball fight and you can hear her voice quite well in the clip on this page. She sounds quite reasonable compared to the guy who keeps yelling "F--- you pig." (The whole thing sounds crazy. Snowball fights are better off at parks then near busy streets with stressed out drivers.) But it was also discussed in the Post. So I guess that's that.
Also, the male-dominated jury sucks. So does the lawyer, who is someone's DAD. Alright that's enough internet for me.

Sea stuff

Seasongseasongseasongseasongseasongseasongseasongseasongseasong
A shame a woman I know is going to move away from the sea, but she has some good reasons. The sea is bellisima. An artist says that Christmas carols were once sea shanties. Sometimes I have driven around the suburbs and felt that I wanted to be in a wilder place (but where I could still drive) and then stop somewhere for fish and chips. I've thought of myself as perhaps once living in another body in the 20th century and speaking to a man, and playing that game with the wooden triangle with pegs in it that you might find at some of those places. But it would either be in a restaurant or on a boat. There there is the idea of living someplace around the Netherlands long ago and ships were very important. I got this feeling when I was a small child and looked at a large barrel. We were not near the sea, but on a field trip to go to an apple picking place. Maybe it was on a misty, watery morning. Now I think I like a song called Sea Song.

It's the most, blizzardful time...

Staying home all day, eating my roommate's mushroom turnovers. I went to neither of my jobs. I just found out that my father, who came down to visit me and then my sister, has been on the road since 10:30 am yesterday and is finally going to stop at a hotel. My roommate called out to me and we saw a friend on TV. Still ABC since last night. Something about a snowball fight, a political protest, and a cop pulling out a gun. I think if I were stranded for hours and hours in a storm, I'd have gone to a hotel sooner. I might get a jar or cup to put in my car. For, um, emergencies. Also the kitty litter and snow shovel. I have almost exhausted my supply of tangerines, oh no! I'm going to google weather conditions on I-77 and 33.

Tonight

I'm so pleased I made it home after a horrible experience driving home from work, especially on Arlington's non-plowed, non-salted roads. Even though I traveled a "red" road on their snow map, which supposedly means that it's a priority. That was a steep, busy road and cars were going everywhere. It was truly terrible. It took me three times longer to get home than usual. VDOT plowed roads were better but still tricky to traverse.
At least I had a religious experience. Meaning I talked to angels and sang the refrain of "How Great Thou Art." HAH. Then I came home and watched Tori Amos on nightline. I'm very grateful I got home. Now I'm going to bed.

Referrals

By NPR a few days ago: Raising the Global Floor.
By me now: Perelandra in Winter.

Also reading

Flower Cookery.
Several weekends ago it cost two dollars at a garden/park visitor's center.

Literary Sunday

I've been meaning to watch all of Never Cry Wolf again, but haven't gotten to it yet. I wonder if I would like to read Steppenwolf? Right now I am almost finished with Zami.

Considerations

Easily save money on a slow day off: chew gum and drink tea all day.
Then, have a "sensible dinner." (I hate going to bed hungry!)
And, for all of us with health insurance challenges: Edgar Cayce stuff.
~~~~~
Minaret bans: too ridiculous. Even a Baptist newspaper thinks so.
I like posts with "witch" pictures and "weenie roast" in the title. Among others. And it was also good to read some positive news. The sad little stereotype which I found to be true in grad school was that women will read books highlighting either men or women, but many men will not find books about women (I think of Song of the Water Saints) to be sufficiently engaging. This was true among almost all male students, some female students, and also male TAs who told me "it was emotionally draining to read" and the "students didn't like it" and they "didn't think the professor liked it." (And, they didn't like it.) Sad.
I do still like some "men's adventure" stories. Like Never Cry Wolf.
~~~~
On second thought, I may cut short today's "tea and chewing gum" fast.

perhaps

I think it might be amusing to mix "Old Man" with "Wuthering Heights."
I think it might be amusing to mix "Old Muppet, look at your life, you're a lot like..." with a really screechy, like almost a young (but slightly more melodious) Edith Bunker, singing "it's meeee I'm Catheeee..."
(Red Dress.)

wouldn't it be better

to live someplace with much less traffic and many more trees?

something to see again!

Saw it in Jr. High. I had a cool history teacher. She showed us slides of her trip to India and made us read Newsweek together as a class and showed movies like this one:
Never Cry Wolf.

To me

Cadets left with "a real clarity..." was very frustrating to read.
The saddest photo in this album.

Nonshy

Isn't that a funny word? I read it in a book about highly sensitive people. The author was differentiating between an "HSP" and a "shy" person. Some people could be both, of course, in different situations. However, what's fun about the word is when I look at it, I want to pronounce it as "non-she" and I think of it also as a combination of nonchalant and sassy.

Kind of dodgy day.

Just get the dodgy parts out of the way. Cleaning, bills, bleah. Hearing about illness in family always worries me. Once again, I'm reminded that even though part of me misses some of what I got out of graduate school, stories like this (and this!) remind me of how negative things could get. Lastly, and unrelated to me personally, I simply cannot believe this. HUH. But, I can still be welcoming of harmonious change and order and new things into life...Yes!!!!!
Off to do some cleaning.

Cool last night

I woke from my dream of saving someone like my sister by pulling her out of a mucky sink drain and the face in the muck became beautiful and blue, and saying "I love you" (by smiling at me as I said "I love you") and then my eyes were fuzzy with sleep and I was actually terrified to almost imagine myself a big Christmas ornament type angel in front of my closet. Not because the bright, empty, but beautifully lit angel was bad at all, but because sometimes you get scared of what you don't expect to see. She seemed to have a little star wand in her right hand. Then I rolled over and closed my eyes so as not to see it, but I didn't feel bad, and went into a beautiful, peaceful sleep.
~~~~~~
That's a Lady in Blue song. That's a Lady in Blue song.

One of the interesting

blogs I've stumbled across drew me into several of it's stories today, like
Doll Calling, Be Like The Water, Toads, To S., Good Friends, Gift, The Ghost. (Wait, more on class here and here, here.)
I think when I was growing up, my environment was sometimes upper/middle to lower/middle class. I have no clue about what a "soccer mom" is, for example. A mom who has a lot of free time and doesn't have to go to work outside the home, I guess! (Although, personally, if I have kids I want them to be able to take sports, dance, art, music lessons or whatever they want to do, because we couldn't, but I also hope they learn to cook for themselves and sew, and work for money. Anyways, if I'd been playing soccer, maybe I wouldn't have done so much reading!)
Stripper 's Tarot. Another Day. Song for Vietnam Vets. Fearless.
The journey to the blog was interesting. It went: facebook, this article, googling about nature foraging and finding this herbal school, this person, and then her blogroll led me to it. And I'm feeling divinely guided because (I just realized) the column that started the search is the same as the title of a book that I slipped into the library's bookdrop today.

Ah, old photos.

Adorable kid. Adorably sulky teenager. Adorably smiley teenager, too! Adorable adult...
Close to you...
(Now I'm curious about "MirrorMask.")

Da.

Unlike last year, I did pretty good on Nanowrimo, which for me is nanoflashmicrowhateverwrimo. But I still have several thousand words to go. Possible topics: Swearing so much makes you more angry! Who likes a healthy dose of PTSD over the holidays? People's whose kids aren't old enough to join the army. Chaperoning: not just for the parents anymore! Acidic foods affects on the tongue.

Pizza box

So the other day, after just listening to a bit of book on CD by Javier Sierra, yes, I picked it up because of Lady in Blue, I find myself looking at a pizza box that asks me if I'm ready for a bit of blue in my life? That's like when I walked into the room and saw a documentary on Eisenhower after rereading Dancing in the Shadows...
Other curiosities: Rabbit in the Moon and dancingrabbit.org.

Messages and collaborations

Consider the chances of what kinds of music videos will seem better as more voices get heard and time goes on. Will fantasy or truth be more powerful? 3 guys and one girl made this I'll Do Whatever U Like video; it does not thrill me, because I cannot buy into the fantasy. I hate the first 30 seconds, especially. To me, this shaky Me and a Gun video, or even this one of Tori and "Pip," while not most suited for some people, is better.
In this version of Cruel, she makes the Nine Inch Nails concert that I attended in highschool look like a tranquil experience. This too.

For future reference

because I will be able to listen to them on another computer:
"las mujeres" playlist
sexy christmas music
F--- you, flash player non-compatible with Mac OS X 10.3.9

Also, you know

Kind of in my mind over the last 24 hours or so:
Fire To Your Plain
Invincible-Metro Times
Sledgehammer

What was rustling in the woods tonight?

A: Magnificent winter deer with incredibly huge antlers.

Hopefully still around...

I need to find my old childhood photos. I just realized that they are not in the tin that I thought they were in. This gave me kind of a bad butterfly, icy-feeling-in-the-chest feeling. But surely they are still around!

Strangest 4 of an album

(To me, on Monday morning.)
Give, Fast Horse, Lady In Blue, Starling

It's like, one of those cool songs...

Found one today! Ropes (Invincible feat. Tiombe Lockhart)

Yesterday & tomorrow & today

Yesterday my roommate and I saw Bob Dylan. Dear god, his voice. I didn't want to be one of those people who get negative...however, at one point I thought that labor would be less painful. Not that I know. Maybe I thought that because all these women I know are having babies lately. Anyways. The man contributed much to our culture. Probably he was too stubborn to ever do anything to preserve his vocal cords. He is also still very good on the harmonica. And those were usually my favorite parts on the setlist. Despite my nose telling me that someone was smoking at some point, I didn't see any lighters but people held up cellphones and took pictures. Also as the voice was getting to me, I kept feeling like I was looking at a bunch of guys who wanted to be like the Blues Brothers and having a feminist moment, because whenever I've gone to a show, it's almost never for a female performer. My friend and I made a list on the phone of all the successful women in music and now I have to go to one of their shows.
Tomorrow night I have tentative plans to go to DC and not work.
Today I bought the proper kind of premixed engine coolant and will pour it into my car at some point. I also bought pfeffernuse and ate some dipped in wine, per the directions on the box.

The cold season

"The cold season was the correct time for telling stories."
(Page 5 of The Last Algonquin, a library book I read a few years ago when I was living in Michigan.) A little known book, it has 15 reviews on amazon.com and each one gives it 5 stars. How often does that happen?

Saturday evening events

Watching my friend's youtube channel. Carrying either a spice cake or marzipan stollen with candles stuck in it into a livingroom and singing Happy Birthday. Singing/reciting "I'm On A Boat" on autotune like karaoke. (The best line was I f***** a mermaiiiid.) Finding out that there is something called "Four square" which is like some kind of community city exploration thing. Too much cake, drink and food consumed. Single but impressively long tear running down cheek. Tired. Body needs to sleep.

Not shorter

Then I watched Jon Stewart and was like, hmmmm, what is up with the drawing of Glenn Beck's internal organs. And, I am not fooling my pancreas. I consumed a lot of a sugar-laden chocolate product in a very short amount of time, then tried to make up for it by eating an apple. Earlier, I'd waxed all rhapsodic to myself about drinking the last dregs of a bottle of cheap wine as I ate a chili-like concoction that did not delight my tastebuds. I admired the clouds and stars of the night sky on a balcony. There is still a record store in the suburbs where kids burn patchouli and act too cool but are (I just know! I just feel!) still so naively (and beautifully!) open to life experiences in a way that people my age who are obsessed with mortgages do not seem to be. Maybe they are the childish ones, and the youth and mid-life crisis people actually have more in common with each other and are in a wiser zone? I thought. Eh, maybe.

Short

Last night I woke as if from a very scary dream, but all it was about was one girl saying about another "I think she is scary." Maybe I am sensitive to some things. I was running around today with an abnormal amount of stress. I also think that Thanksgiving will be interesting with my new bro-in-law (a veteran), very hyper guy who sometimes seems to have a different sense of humor. Like the time he pretended to run me down in his car in a parking lot. I did not at all find it funny. Maybe it is due to a childhood in foster homes, or being sent to a war overseas and picking up the body parts of his friends. I suppose that might mess with your sense of reality. I also hope people will contemplate the mental health issues of human beings who deal with war. However, my belief is that this one should not get more press than all the copious instances of violence against women on bases and overseas that are connected with war.

Hoy Dia

Kind of me duele mi cabeza right now... I participated in a little dance recital for the first time since I was like, two or something. My friend called me while she was driving to say she put in a tape and heard her voice talking to me on it; she made it for me years ago because an Oprah show on past lives had come on, and then she drove by a sign for my old college. So she just had to call to tell me. Today I began reading a new book, Falconer on the Edge. A woman in my dance class who teaches English to 8th graders told me that Jean Craighead George, who wrote My Side of the Mountain (funny, I was thinking of that book lately), knew something about that topic. Thinking, thinking, thinking... Hmmm. On the other hand, perhaps it is good to indulge in other things? Oh, that word. "Indulge." Scratch that. It sounds like eating a bunch of chocolate. Right now, I'm talking about doing things to take care of oneself mentally and physically, and perhaps steering clear of too many doctors' bills in the winter. How about starting out with doing nothing but lying quietly, breathing, and maybe a simple head massage. Bye, glowing headache screen. Bye, rambling hodge podge, mish mish of words!!! Good. Night.

It was a dark and stormy night...

Maybe if I get one soon I will post a photo or two. After I drove out to Prince William Forest in an intimidating rainstorm, I arrived at the mess hall with a disco ball. Spent the obligatory 1st hour of shyness, sitting in the corner, playing with beads, consuming edibles and punch. Then I talked to a dude who went to a "rival elementary school" of the elementary schools I went to in Renton. I told him to read I'm Down. And he will! He so totally will. The friend he came with met my friend (who came dressed as a tsunami) in Malcolm X park and is Mr. Nadar's assistant or something. Also, I discovered: I am pretty good at hula hooping! Many of us slept in bunks that night and had lunch together at the twins' parents' house the next day. (Where the fiestas are usually held.) On the way home, the clouds over Manassas were white and flat, yet just a bit bunchy in some areas, like upside-down snow covered hills. Ah, Nordic saga weather...

Plants and stuff

Whoa, it was sort of crazy that when I typed "spearmint tea" in the search engine, this article was the first to come up. And then reading the ensuing Tragic Chorus of comments below it, many seeming to come from teenage girls. And wondering, does it make any difference in certain individuals if now there are more pollutants in the environment. And will it continue, and what to do? I think I'll go reread Behaving...

Me, my song misreadings

For Liquid Diamonds, towards the end, I'd sing: "I go inside a shell."

Les movies

My two most favorite are probably Central Station and Howards End. But yesterday, the TV was on, and I was sort of getting into Catch Me If You Can. I remember how, when I first saw it, I could NOT stop thinking of Bill Schroeder. (Sometimes--actually it happened this weekend--when people ask about the pronounciation of my last name, I start to say I don't know why, but sometimes "oe" is pronounced like "a" and I cite the name "Schroeder" as an example.) Such were the impressions, somehow imprinted on my funny little brain, at an early, early age. Oh, B.S., how like and yet unlike ol' Thoreau (at least, later I came to think) you were. Absolutely transfixed by accounts like these, I once was.

Maryland, Massachusetts, New Jersey, New York or Vermont.

Those five states are places to consider moving to, according to Tips for getting insurance when you have a pre-existing condition. I found it after talking to a close relative who is charged an exorbitant amount ($1600/month for a single person) for major medical. Is it possible to even believe that some people can't get insurance because something like ADHD is a "pre-existing condition?" Out of control. It makes me wonder if most of the world sees Americans as "successful" business people who go on destructive sprees and don't know shit about taking care of themselves.
Regardless of discrepancies in income, healthiest people possible is beneficial for all.

The shopping was good

Bling at the party store for cheap! No I did not buy anything for a pimp costume. Cheezy looking dollar bill sign rings and necklaces for, at minumum, $6.99, went by the wayside in favor of other items more in the 99 cent to 3 dollar range, including a gigantic fake engagement ring necklace. Quite a fun find, hidden behind the aisle clogged with boxes.
(It was in the bachelorette party section.)
Recently, as we watched TV, my roommate told me about this silly thing.
I checked a friend's facebook post and am very, very sad about this.
I began reading this. And somehow, accidentally, this came on.

There could be a club

for people who actually remember Powerhouse, my favorite show as a kid.
And also...oh my god...I found it! The show about the telepathic twins!
It was part of a series called The Third Eye. Oh, wonderful internet. Except, it's a little bit heartbreaking that I can't find the clips of when the good stuff starts to happen! But, how odd. A new version is coming out? I remember them sticking their hands in jelly, being in underground and underwater in caves and stuff like that. The energies from the rocks were different colors. Red and Blue motif again. I vaguely remember another show called The Haunting of Cassie Palmer, but at the time it was a little too freaky and grown up for me to "get" and I don't think I watched it much.

Chapi Chapo!

Some channel (PBS? Nickolodeon?) used to have this funny looking puppetish kid who annoyed me. I think I was in "boys annoy me" mode when I saw him. He had a big head and nerdy glasses and maybe there was something like...a song playing (maybe the star spangled banner or america the beautiful?) and then the TV behind him would go all staticky with white stuff...What the hell was that. I have no idea. Instead I found Chapi Chapo! I never knew the name of it. I accidentally stumbled across it after clicking on the video for Pinwheel. Could totally re-watch all those episodes. What a wonderful gender neutral message. Red Girl, Blue Boy Equality! I didn't even know it was teaching me French.

to see, maybe

"Hip Hop: Beyond Beats and Rhymes" was recently shown at one of my workplaces, and I missed it, but there is this interesting youtube clip.

What came of the internet

I was sitting by my book shelf and looking at a small jar, which is decorated with pictures of a frog and says "Drinkglas" on the lid. It once contained delicious Nutella-like spread from the Netherlands. Now it is full of erasers and a few pendants I don't really wear. There is one in the shape of an alligator. The girls on my dorm floor gave it to me ("Ali") my freshman year, on my birthday. Thinking of this, I decided to look up the name of my old college roommate and came across this page, which was probably created right when the college began to get the internet. Despite the fact that I was not in that program and only went there for 2 years, I recognize every name on the page and can picture every single one of them. In a way, I sort of wish I'd run into an alumna, chat with her about her extremely successful life, and get my ass kicked or else into gear somewise, because lately I feel like I have to do something different.

music: lonely or great

There's a CD I found for a dollar in a thrift store, called Deep Breakfast by Ray Lynch. It's in my car now, but I looked it up, and the videos have the most bizarre comments. (Tiny Geometries is more benign, though.) Oh comments. You exist, even though to me this stuff is all about me being young and living on an island, contemplating sky travel and mountains. Or, being in college, and running out in the middle of the night with my roommate to a place by the convention center in Seattle which had some kind of cool lighting sculpture. All alone, no one else there. She had a tape of it, too, something a teacher in class would play for them.

Random thoughts, are you in crisis????

Virginia, Gold Dust, John Bellairs, orchards, Emerson, Thoreau, the log of Christopher Columbus, lands, that book I was looking for by Malcolm Bosse (what was it? Oh yeah, Captives of Time) sugar, JUST GO TO THE WOODS AND LISTEN. Arrrgh. Sometimes an old cheap motel in the middle of nowhere does the trick, too. There's more! There's art and photography and painting and color and music theory! Apples! Apple cider! Hot showers, cold showers, singing, voice lessons, costumes, and treeeeeeeeeeeeessssssssssssss.....

Poofy dresses

A friend who has a daughter posted on facebook that he thinks girls' costume options come in two choices: "slut" or "whore." Ouch! (I said "did they already run out of nun costumes?") But he lives in California. Perhaps if he lived in Alabama he'd see some other options.

And Pocahontas

Portrait as Halloween Costume Idea.

Seeing some old DC in "Gold Dust"

Sure, like Virginia (I like that song, set to scenes from a kid's movie or no) this makes me think I could appreciate where I live better, even though it's not quite where I feel most at home on this planet, or even in this country. Sights and Sounds / pull me back down /another year / I WAS HERE / I WAS HERE / Whipping past / the reflecting pool / me + you / skipping school / And we make it up / as we go along / We make it up as we / go along / You said --you raced from Langley -- / pulling me underneath / a Cherry Blossom / canopy -- Do I Have -- Of course I have, / Beneath my raincoat, / I have your photographs. / And the sun on your Face / I'm freezing that frame / And somewhere Alfie cries / and says "Enjoy his every smile / You can see in the dark / Through the eyes of Laura Mars" -- How did it go so fast -- you'll say / as we are looking / back / and then we'll / understand / we held gold dust / in our / hands.
(Gold Dust! Gold Dust Dress? Gold Dust Dress? Gold Dust Class!)

Diner dash

At the end of this year, I will get the opportunity to visit Sedona, AZ. I think I would like to check out The Red Planet Diner. Who knows maybe if I like it enough I can move out there and work next to a bar with filled with aliens instead of DHS employees. Ha ha. It would also be healthier for everyone's lungs because Arizona, like most places, now enforces a smoking ban.
~~~~~~
It's odd how diners can be good places for writing. I think so. Yet, their food is not the healthiest. How can one be both healthy and creative? I skimmed a paperback tonight that talked about "Dance of Death" cults in the Middle Ages. It mentioned the idea of people going into trances dancing to their deaths as a reaction against the restrictions of the Church. If that is possible, couldn't one also go into a peaceful kind of trance when creating something? Maybe society is in a trance about the suffering artist.
Tori Amos has songs about suffering, though, and I continue to love them. When I first listened to Virginia, I probably found it to be boring. Later, I listen But as always / The thing that he / Loves he will / change from her / sunwise to clockwise / to soul trading / still she'll lay / down her Body / covering him all / the same / oh Virginia / do you remember / when the Land held / your hand / oh Virginia / she will let you back in oh Virginia / you can't remember / your name
and love it so well.

Kinda funny

Bumper sticker:
"That's okay I wasn't using my civil liberties anyway."
~~~~~~
I watched this video of Taxi Ride and it was the very first time I heard "killer bees."

Virginia thoughts

Today's a day off and I think I might venture out to another orchard in rural Virginia...East Virginia Blues....Virginia rural news...
~~~~~
Then again it was actually a better day to try the hill at this park. (And strike up a friendly conversation with a woman who hikes there regularly with her dog on the trail.) Yes, better that way. No "apple-pie" flavored fudge too terrible for teeth and pancreas and endocrine/reproductive systems and walnuts to tempt one.
(Why did I write "walnuts?" I have no idea. I'm leaving it in.)
~~~~~
Oh honestly. On the topic of dating: lets say there was this creative person who, well, kinda sucked at relationships. (By their own admission! Because of their issues and yada yada yada.) And still had far to go to progress in that area of their life, in spite of other successes. Would you hurl your cherished friend at that person to fix them up, in the name of an "adventure?" I fear too many would! At the moment, I think I would not.
~~~~~
Not quite upstate NY, but Virginia autumn leaves are beeeautiful!!! :-)

Books tonight

1) Quote: "Rosemary Gladstar often calls plants 'little green teachers.' Once while visiting our farm, she gave an interview to a reporter. She was talking about how much she has learned from the plants, how she considers them her most important teachers. The reporter, a little confused by these comments, asked "What could you possibly learn from a tree?'
Rosemary looked the reporter in the eye and said, very matter-of-factly, 'Patience.' .... For many people, spirituality and philosophy come from books and lectures, not nature. Trees and shrubs and flowers can't talk, so how could they possibly teach us anything?"
From page 8 in this library book: The Herbalist's Garden.
2) In a bookstore, I read some of The Glass Castle.
3) But I also took in some sky and rose hips and birds today. (Here.)

Female DJs

The other day, I asked myself, what do I know about female DJs? And the answer was nada. I looked some amateur ones up. Youtube commenters were pretty harsh. Sheesh, people, is there no place in our society for a beginner? Then I found one who seemed accomplished and there were NO comments on this video of Pam the Funktress. She does a trick from Afro Puffs, which sort of used to get stuck in my head, but I now know, after all these years, a) thats not by a man but by a woman, and b) it's not saying "apple puff." (Well I sort of already knew that.) My friend sent me: Sister Bliss and Faithless: Why Go. And that's my education on the topic so far.
~~~~~~
Then I showed my roommate this and she showed me this.
Then I watched Mass Destruction.

The delicate art of dollar store shopping

Maybe I shouldn't have bought the red hair extensions, wand and wings (little fairy red riding in the hood!) And definitely not the plastic rings, which are meant for five year old pinkies. (They looked more flexible.) Oh lord. REALLY REALLY TACKY. I came to this conclusion after a sobering glance in the mirror, after eating most of the interior of a small, mediocre pumpkin pie, which I did after the fashion of our long deceased gray cat, Robert E. Lee. (He liked pumpkin pie filling.) However, the plastic necklace and Big Red gum, I can work with.

Even keel

There was a day when I was perhaps 20 or 21 that I was visiting an older woman's house on the island. One of her (younger, but middle-aged) friends came in to visit. The friend walked in, noticed me, didn't find my presence of any particular importance, and said, matter-of-factly, "well, mother died." I was shocked. Then they discussed the sudden impact of her death and the older woman said "well, wasn't it a wonderful time for her to go?" This was not a heartless discussion. The woman did love her mother, and on some level it had been a painful shock, but at the same time, it was what it was. (I guess?) There is a phrase that comes to mind when life is going pretty okay. It's not high and butterflies-in-the-stomach (elated but part of you fearing how it will feel when you will crash) it's not low and screaming into a pillow, or moaning like a beast, because you just don't know what to do. It's like you look out on the horizon, and you can see things from a larger perspective. You can take in the whole view. It's even keel.

Alumna

Really? According to this entry in Wikipedia, Tallulah Bankhead went to MBC? Ah, that would've been interesting. I vote for a movie about her.
A girl I know who went out with a VMI guy says they used to call it "Mary Bedroom." A girl I knew who went there went out with a VMI guy. They might've gone to Ring Finger. He was quoted in Ms. Magazine. It was regarding VMI being forced to allow females to attend. The gist of it went something like this: "They (the Northern soldiers) shelled us during the War for Independence. We'll survive this too."
The closest I ever got to going out with a VMI guy (not that this was ever a goal of mine) was when I talked to one at a mixer who liked my peasant girl dress. I remember that I told him that the other guys ragging on him was not a good reason for him not to wear the traditional kilt of his ancestors. He promptly began avoiding me.
My college friend I met up with yesterday told me that a company in Virginia that makes car vacuums has this motto: "WE REALLY SUCK!"
Talula talula...

Quippy friend

Me: It says on amazon that the guy who wrote Pride and Prejudice and Zombies also wrote The Big Book of Porn: A Penetrating Look at the World of Dirty Movies.
Her: Is it a pop-up book?
(Yes, I was amused.)
Amusing-seeming person I don't know: some Seattle area yelper.
~~~~~
It's a strange transition, because I was not in a quippy mood at all for most of today. It was more of a "enjoy this weather, this apple cider, this pork sandwich, those cloggers, that tree, those wildflowers, the songs on this CD, I wonder how I can make a low-budget not-shaky video of a roadtrip and set it to music?" state of mind. And thats a very simple summary.
Who can explain how enjoyably complex your own meanderings can seem to you when your life is feeling harmonious?

Apple picking!!!!

Rain or shine, me and my old friend from MBC (Hey. It says they tore down the dorm that was the Civil War Hospital. I can't believe it. That was such a Halloween tradition!) will reunite at this festival.

Costume decision

Help came from roommate who went as a Bloody Mary one year.
The hooded pullover idea has evolved. My costume will be "Red Riding in the 'Hood.'" (;-D) Speaking of 'hood,' after reading I'm Down, I decided to look up my old elementary schools in Renton. Both have 70-75% of their students getting free or reduced lunch and are Title One. I wonder how that compares to when I went there? What would I be like if I hadn't moved to an island I don't really know anymore? Not possible to know. Today I did this little stab at putting down creative writing ideas.

politican's author's conservatives' locals' out of towners'
friends friends friends friends friends friends
media government shaking cars aircraft
fires fears drives to sanctuaries
driving by signs for think tanks
"this family is not a democracy"
closed eyes prayers
calls to arms to armed forces here
in the government
cars nails tires
newspapers

Strange phone calls at the old woman's house in Seattle
Old man in nursing home?
(Girl giggles because he coughs so much and insists she is someone else)
Weird voodoo chant from another culture?
(Girl stays on phone until the chanters hang up.)

Nothing about the island there.
And I watched Kantoi, Going Up the Country, and Godless again.
I believe I will spend more time in gardens, even in cold East Coast winters. And look at some good Canadian Garden blogs! Amazing how well they can live in that socialist country, eh?

Halloweeneee costumeee

Thanks to certain brilliant friends, I have an event to attend at which costume will be mandated. I have to face certain facts. I am probably not going to be able to use a cute, peasant girl type of dress, which is actually from the 70s, unless I go on a real diet. At the moment, I'm not a fan of diets. (Have I ever been? Perhaps I would be if I saw a point, like if I were, say, attending dance classes five days a week.) Speaking of dieting... Anyway, at this point I should probably give another girl a chance to wear it. Oh well, at least there were those cute pictures of me in it at my highschool graduation party. (Not the case of a college mixer I wore it to, in which the photographer followed me around, creepily whispered compliments, and then--creepier yet--for some reason didn't provide any photos for me to buy when the prints came out.)
OTHER COSTUME IDEAS:
I do have a pair of red, sporty-in-appearance-if-not-actuality (the polyester & cotton fabric is not fun to wear in any kind of heat) pants that I got from a clothing swap, which almost match a red hooded pullover that one of my relatives gave me from a writing conference with the words "Escrire Cogitare Discere" on it.
[Modern, Broke English Major Red Riding Hood?]
Or, YET AGAIN, YES, my wonderful (especially because it still fits!) Indian dress with all the cool little mirrors/beading/embroidery, which I only ever seem to wear on Halloween. Put the scarf thing around my head.
[Little Ethnically Ambiguous Burnt Orange Riding Hood?]
Or maybe I could go as The Secret.
(I'm actually not making fun of The Secret. I'm making fun of myself.)
Think I'll go make myself a Dal Paratha, or as I call it, a delicious Indian pancake. (This, and rice with beans and hot sauce, was accomplished.)
At end of evening: watching The New Age of Walmart.

Best 20 minutes of today

were spent at a garden, cozying up to red ornamental grasses.

Tuesday morning thoughts

Cat on bed, and Bob Dylan show in the near future.
~~~~~~~~
Later- That was earlier. Feeling less contentment now. What to do?
Bookstore read of tonight: Half the Sky.
~~~~~~~~
Sheesh, though. To be able to find that clip of Shirley MacLaine from the Bella Abzug memorial service! Not seen by these eyes since I'd come back from the jungle and waited in the Lima hotel room before going back to Seattle...What should I do next. What, what, what...

Waiting for those laundry machines again...

I suppose there are many sides to this story, but this massive layoff of highschool teachers and counselors in DC sounds pretty messed up.
I got a speech from a stranger that I should be teaching the other day.
I remember that when I was a T.A., a student with limited English skills came in with a really creative story for a project, and I saved it. Really cracked up the class by drawing funny pictures to illustrate the story. It was all about a nameless monster. The nameless monster travels the world and tries on various personalities, none of which really satisfy. The conclusion was "we are all nameless monsters." How about that...
On Columbus Day, the laundry room becomes extremely popular.
~~~~~~~~
Hmmm. S.M. speech at L.A. Gay and Lesbian Center Gala.

Cositas

I started to reread El Camino. Now I realize it's the first time I've done that since my sister did our family tree and found on that on the southern side we are descendants of Charlemange. But this is more interesting: when I went to Peru, I coincidentally met the guy who had been the author's tour guide in Cusco. Briefly, in Miraflores. I didn't really say anything to him. The professor who took us there knew him. Later, she told me that she had met her. And she had very...something about nice eyes and very warm. And she felt lucky to meet her.
Oh and another funny thing was that I found a clip. On one of my trips back to Peru, before I returned to the US I saw this in a hotel room in Lima:
S. MacLaine remembers Congresswoman B. Abzug.
I definitely remember that I at least saw some of it.
~~~~~~~~~~
Honestly, it might sound weird, but to me, with her hair long, she almost kind of resembles Tori Amos in this 1970s clip: S. M. shills for...

art, art, art, art...

Then sings my soooooouuuuuul.....
Actually I have enjoyed singing that one.
I like very much the feeling of, when I'm reading something, that someone has tried to uncover a secret. Recentish examples:
1) A. Fulton's great grandmother
2) Spain's African history in Kinky Gazpacho.
3) Yosemite's Buffalo Soldiers.
Sooo sucked back into my own memories of going to two elementary schools in the Seattle area because of reading I'm Down.
Less intensely, but more gently, I remembered New York when I reread a poem called "Sympathetic Hexes" from Dance Script With Electric Ballerina. A memory of a museum in Albany. In a quiet corner, I felt the urge and started to dance, perhaps, and a woman saw me and smiled, (maybe she even laughed? but not meanly, I think.) Then I stopped and I wouldn't. I refused to come out of my shell. How sad. And poignant. But it's okay. One little moment of embarrassment is not forever.
I didn't grow up in "the city." I was from upstate NY, where grown ups worked in places like Macy's (not the big Thanksgiving parade one) and went to RPI. After I moved, when a new girl from NY came to Seattle, I was excited, but she was from the city and it became clear that this was not the same NY I knew, and also that hers was cooler. I was from the Albany area. However, upstate NY and reading books was enough to instill a sense of familiarity in me when I visited the city as an adult. And I'd already been to cities like Seattle and Amsterdam. Every amazing city also has an element of insularity.
I found out that a Bob Dylan show is in my friend's future.
This is a funny review of his new Christmas album.

An old incident in the mind

There was a restaurant worker who blurted "table or booth?" and offended the guests, a wheelchair bound man (probably a veteran) and his wife. She was the recipient of an angry silence. Later she said, within earshot, that she was having a bad day, and now the machine wasn't printing the check in a timely fashion. "I hate...people...no...not people...just the machine..." And for some reason, as awkward and mucky as it all was, it was something. Because when she walked by them again, the wife had softened and veteran had brightened, and wished her a very good day.

The evening's dose of humor

Was to be gotten at the bookstore cafe table which actually still had a chair (why did the staff stack chairs so early? Why does the library close at 6 pm on Thursday?) I sat and read this book: I'm Down by Mishna Wolff. Aw, memories of my own 3rd and 4th grade experiences around Seattle. Peechees! "DANG" and "PSYCH!" Double Dutch. Value Village. I wonder if there will be any episodes on the playground involving kids at the tetherball pole, or picking up glass for the playground teachers. Hopefully no one will throw a chunk of concrete at their playmate's head. (That happened at a daycare I attended.) I wonder how old the author is.
~~~~~
I remember a day I came to school with no lunch money. Somehow I ended up talking to the principal. She smiled and explained to me that I didn't qualify for free lunch, so I would have to go without one, but suggested I ask if one of my classmates would share their lunch with me. Back to the cafeteria... I was the new kid and didn't really have any good friends yet. Glumly, I thought that maybe I could ask someone for the shredded iceburg lettuce and peanuts that the lunches came with, because no one ever ate them. (Hello, what were they thinking? Peanut allergies!) I still remember the stares I got. Then one of them pushed her plastic container at me. "Girl, you eat all the peanuts you want."
~~~~~
Hotel is in my head for some reason. "Exit 75, I'm still alive."

Little end of album trio

Morning was all about Northern Lad, afternoon and evening was Playboy Mommy, and then transitioning to Pandora's Aquarium at night.
~~~~~~~~~~
And then some obligatory searching turning up Playboy Mommy song meanings, Iieee story and Storytellers recap. (Oh that is so old! What was I thinking about in 1999? Going back to Peru.)
~~~~~~~~~~
Soy Andina looks like a nice film. I am not peruana but I could be a favorite guest. They taught me some castellano. What do I remember? Prendelo! Es rico. Me queda bien. La (insert female name).

Film watching a few years back.

It was October in upstate NY. I had no plans in particular. School was over for me. I drank too much wine in an old coldish apartment, and went out and bought apples at a local market. I'd make quinoa with cheese in a pot and add some ketchup. I got movies to watch with my strange typewriter-obsessed friend, who'd recommended the King of Hearts. He fell asleep during Lovers of the Arctic Circle. When I brought home The Seventh Seal, he said he hoped it would tell him how to live.

Cheap Food Blog Discovery

Makes me want to see the "lunch truck Renaissance" and the "Hollywood Bowl." Also now I am going to see how much scallops cost here. I haven't seen the "Julie and Julia" movie, but the preview makes me think, how cool would it be to see Julia Child movie with Meryl Streep? Probably very cool.
100 Blogs for the Frugal Gourmet

Wisconsin Bookstore

There ought to be a documentary.
Lenore and Lloyd Dickmans' Bookstore.

Photo Essay of Asgarda

The "Amazons" of the Ukraine.

Ugh, espresso

Something about it does not agree with my body. Even if it's just a medium-sized latte. Hours later, nausea and regret. Next purchase on birthday gift card will either be tea or apple cider. I have also switched to a new library book. Changing Planes has a very promising first chapter, although it is quite negative about airports.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I mean, first story.

Waiting for the laundry to finish

Richmond Rap. Arlington Rap. Hey There Khalilah. What a joy it was, one night, to sing those lyrics to myself when the original came on at one of my jobs. Today when I went to do laundry and trash, I heard a girl's high voice saying, slowly and deliberately, "I have no where to wear these clothes...so I have to wear them at home..." "I know," an older-sounding, lower, feminine voice saying. The "girl" always speaks like that. She was in an accident when she was younger. Now I can't type. For example, I tried to type tear-jerker and went "terk" and then had to erase it, and I keep doing that sort of thing, anyways, the preview in question was the one I watched for the movie in which Maria Carey goes without make-up! Who Knows Maybe Things Are Looking Up For Women In Hollywood.
Last night, due to a conversation about Magic and Tarot cards, I was amused by the December '06 Archives of I Fought The Law.
Mail: Most f'd up team ever said a grad school chum, of this story.
I'm reading Welfare Brat.

Wow

I've never met this guy, who is a college friend of my roommate, but holy macaroni, these are some incredible pictures of Antarctica.

DAR

I am kind of bummed that I didn't take the opportunity to see this artist perform this song, Strong Black Vine, at the DAR Hall. Hah. I had no interest in going back then, though. And it is weird, because after she came here, I went to Michigan and so did the artist. I wasn't thinking about that at the time. DAR Hall makes me think of this lawyer I worked with. She left to live by some big famous Chinese Theater in the LA area and came back for a visit. I had to run after her in the mall one night with her cell phone in my hand "Keep it!" she flung at me. She was extremely drunk and not wearing the most sensible outfit. When I started scrolling through her contacts list to call someone for help, she became more interested in her possession. After walking into a broom closet and peeing in it, she came up behind me and began making growling noises. I kept scrolling. My hand was shaking. Finally she leapt on my back and got her phone back and I gave up on trying to influence her and left. The next day, she called to apologize.
She was in DAR.

Blue! Grotto! Statues!

Blue Grotto Statues.
Sounds nifty to me.

Girl, Woman, Hollywood, Film

A clip and an article in which some express their disgust. I am disgusted. I recall a professor, who was otherwise quite likeable, treating it like a big joke when I was an undergraduate, saying it was all consensual and he was sort of duped because the girl didn't "look" that young.
Well, that was not the case.
Away from Hollywood, here's a discussion about crimes in the military.
Comment from one "Junkyarddawg" the chief problem here seems to have been a leadership which refused to acknowledge there was even a problem, for political or career reasons. That's the problem in a lot of cases. Perhaps there could be a subtitle to this: "Wars, Arts Industries, Universities, Clusters of People Who Could Be in the Government or in the Media..."
Another could be "Headaches." I have one right now.

Click, click

on text links and then pictures and then...
Aw, now what was I actually looking for (it was not this) when I came across this yucky sporting event clip?
A football fan who is a meditation teacher likes this clip about the randomness of life. Moving on.
East Meets West In Sun And Flowers.
Click.

Kitty cat kinds of things

Cat Ladies Documentary. A review of the documentary. Cat Congress Mired In Sunbeam. The hissing noises I probably should have made at the person who was backing out when I came back from Trader Joe's this evening and found a long white scrape on the side of my car.

un journal

KB/TA "Duet",
Women and Music,
God/Running Up That Hill,
Bouncing off Clouds/Cloudbusting,
Cloudbusting meaning

Ew

Is T.M. A "Hero?" Ew, ew, and more than ew.

Today

Attended more panels. At one, this lady from Georgia introduced herself as a girl from the south. And just because of that, when she passed out her papers to the room I stood up and walked over to the aisle to take mine and said "thank you." She said "thank you" back. And then "you're welcome." Southern manners!
She performed several of her poems, including Full Figure Potential.
Also I read this article about Sherman Alexie by Heather Purser.
And watched a new-to-me interpretation of Bells For Her.

Its not the donuts I regret...

i.e. apple cider donuts (although it would've been way cooler of me if I'd gotten them from an apple picking place instead of the Giant.) It's that I spent a portion of my life this evening thinking that acquaintances from grad school and part-time jobs resembled people in some of these pictures. And also that I noticed that someone at one of my jobs spent a lot of time rocking silently in a chair. I don't think he was autistic.
I have to go hang out with a different version of myself now.

In memory of youthful things

Oh my god, I lived in such a great house once! It had views like from a restaurant! The Seattle skyline and the Cascade Mountains! I crawled on the roof, on small stones, and basked in the sun! (Yes, the sun appears in the summer there.) And I was steeped in the books of Shirley MacLaine, and fairies, and various New Age-y topics. I was about 13.
And on a winter night I watched people dance in a ring in the snow.
Looked at this Green Children channel, because of looking at another's channel. Tonight was a good night for a short stroll in a garden. The ring in the snow memory makes me have to look at this again now, too.
The Mummer's Dance.
Although I didn't know that song back then. So, already tampering.

A bookfesting kind of day

It gave me great pleasure to see Stacey Ann Chin and Sherman Alexie read. Hers was in the afternoon, outside under a tent. His was in the evening, in an auditorium where he received an award. Hers brought forth laughter and tears. His was extremely funny and included impersonations of animals. Both talked about being less angry now that they're older. They also both talked about the clitoris and asked audience members to raise their hands if they masturbate. (Perhaps someone issued a memo?)

Things to say to oneself

I wonder why people I knew seem to become less idealistic and more into material things as we get older...all these people on facebook say they went to fashion week...is anyone ever going to appreciate size 14 models? "Lonely" is a feeling that is worse when you resist it...When you embrace it, it actually becomes cozy...If you ate one everyday it would not feel good, but once in a while, eating a cheeseburger is okay. Hiding is okay, but how sad it is that some will never know other people's secret rebellions or good deeds...Okay, who is this person...(Click on her website) So loud! Turn it down! (Couldn't do it. "Am I a feminist or a womanist...")(Immediately afterwards): strange now I seem to feel better.

To fest

I feel like that could/should be a verb.
I cannot see Immortal Cupboard: In Search of Lorine Niedecker for free on this upcoming birthday of mine. That is a pity.
But, my schedule this week may permit me to go to Fall For The Book on Tuesday and Thursday.
Oh Goody. Solitary thirty-something birthday plans!

Hee hee

Just read "Enough With The Sexy Face Already."

Opportunities to view Green

Green, green, green.
More of it to come, next season.

Sometimes an idea

is like a sugar cookie being nibbled at by a well-mannered but hungry and mature-for-her-age child...
(lahk a shu-ger cookee...)
I didn't yet know of an attempted assault on the campus when I walked into the bathroom behind someone else. (I thought.) The stalls were empty and the plexiglass square in the ceiling was ajar, revealing a big crawl space, which gave me a spooky whodunit feeling. Maybe the fact that in the evening I attended a meeting of the budget for the county's parks is a better thing to focus on. But it also got edged out by driving around and listening to Tori Amos. Looking for South of Broad in the bookstore, but fixating on Girls in Trucks. (Upon viewing the author's face on the book jacket--doesn't she look like that student I briefly knew in Seattle, and I was the closest thing to a fellow southerner, but I wasn't really, but we met at a coffee shop and she ate a meringue and I ate, well, nothing, because I had no money, and she was a nanny for a wealthy family, and told me that when she first came to Seattle she got rid of her southern accent right away because it marked her...oh well, nevermind, could not be, she was not Katie Crouch, is this some kind of "I think I cross paths with writers complex" going on?) Sometimes, it seems better if life is just about eating something orange out of a bowl in front of a TV set.
"Have a weird day."
(Al, from the A Girl Called Al books.)

Here 'tis

Given just minutes away from one of my jobs, where I got the opportunity to direct some proud and patriotic tea-party-ers towards their festivities this past Saturday evening.
The Communist Speech.

There was this artist called Remedios Varo

Stars of the Night Commute cover.

One reason to celebrate the 70s/80s

It's my day off and I don't think I'm going to this film festival thing I wanted to see in DC. Oh well. I got to ride a bike in beautiful weather today. Plus I have library books! Like Shelf Discovery, which is full of many book covers I can remember! I showed it to a friend, and we both agreed it's a shame we will miss Judy Blume at the book festival this upcoming weekend. I was looking at some of the versions of her books that are out now, compared to the ones I read. In the cover art on this older Yearling edition of Otherwise Known As Sheila The Great, those girls look like they actually have real personalities! I also found a teeny weeny version of the Yearling cover for It's Not The End Of The World on this site. That's the version of the book that I read. I loved her pose and used to stare at the cover, thinking I wouldn't have minded looking like her. I feel sorry for the kids nowadays, who have to get books with such incredibly boring cover art on them. Bleah. Maybe that will change. Hope so.

Tuesday evening in the park

Was the young man looking up at the great tree, who then knelt down and touched his head to the ground several times, an exuberant nature lover? Was he not the same as the one I'd just seen pacing around monkishly with a thick open book in his hands, its tasseled book-mark trailing out of it's center? Who reminded me of Vincent in Heaven Lake? And when he turned around and gave me a piercing look after I said "that's too bad" into my cell phone, what was he thinking? When I thought of his short hair, athletic build, and youth, I wondered if he came back from a war and began cultivating a passion to know more about Islam. Could be he will marry someone like one of the girls from Baghdad I knew, who became interpreters for the army. Or perhaps he hasn't been to war at all. Maybe he is a conscientiously pagan tree worshipper. (Tho somehow, I rather doubt it.) He pedalled away on a bicycle. In the car I listened to Datura. Spring Haze.

Glo friends

Maybe someday, I'll have a creative writing candlelit wine and cheese party with glo friends! I don't own any at the moment. My sister and I did have some once, including the turtle.

Labor Day this year

A gargantuan feature of my day off was watching shows on the MTV channel (I think) about pregnant 16 year olds and girls giving up their kids for adoption.

da da da da

I saw this girl today who reminded me of a certain girl who used to be the class artist who is now a writer. NOT how she looked in the grown up profile photo. More like a grown version of how I remembered her as a kid. Slightly Annie Lennox-ish. I found a very cute, charmingly misspelled letter (in cursive!) from her and the rest of my 3rd grade class in a brown manila envelope. Sometimes I wonder if these things aren't coincidences. Could be. Now, I can't be going to any upcoming book festivals on Saturdays. I requested off from one job. The other job stepped in to prevent me from going. Maybe I'll try to attend some of this film festival though. Before our yardsale, one of my friends lent me this book to read: I Was Told There'd Be Cake. Most in my mind is the story about being inveigled into being a bridesmaid. I knew a girl in grad school who always was one; she asked me how I escaped it. I don't know. I am the sort of person who is never asked to be a bridesmaid maybe? We had a conversation in a bookstore in upstate NY. I can't remember why. She asked me to touch her hand or sweater and tell me what I thought. I said "mother and love." She said "that's funny, because my mother gave me this sweater." Hmmm. Was that what it was? It's hard to recall. Tonight me and my new roommate ate cold crabs and drank wine in night time drizzle at some picnic tables. Thanks, early bird picnic neighbors. (For the crabs.) Yo quiero comer un cupcake.

eerie moments of the evening

The evening was a vast improvement over a severely and nauseatingly painful morning. Lonely Elevator Girl story. Wow, the 50s. Jack Kerouac. Much later on, in an art museum, the elevator girl stared and stared and recognized herself. I reminds me of the reaction I had when I stared and stared at a picture of Irene MacDonald by C.L. Dodgson (Lewis Carroll) in my high school photography book. "It Won't Come Smooth." This evening, I liked what I listened to on this radio show, "Voices With Vision," but alas, no playlist. I drove and listened and wanted to go to a diner, but I came home instead and then I was in the perfect state of mind to appreciate the elevator girl story. Before I sleep, I'm going to read The Magician's Book.

Finland

Land of superior health care. And maternity leave.
Conan Hates my Homeland.
Also they manufacture xylitol!
Which might be better for PCOSers than BREAD.
But not APPLES.

Hmmm

Is it good to reform health care? Is it imperative to reform health care? Is it American to care about poor people who can't afford health care? People who provide the more fortunate Americans with services...like waiting on them in restaurants, cleaning up after them when they get drunk at happy hour or on weekends, chopping up their salads in the kitchen...

The operatic moment came back

It wasn't "Summertime," nor "Ain't Necessarily So." It was (I just found it) "My Man's Gone Now." Perhaps it was even more enjoyable because I couldn't make out almost any of the words in the car. Two guys on the side of the road turned to stare as the opera...well it probably wafted more than blasted out the window, but still I was surprised that they turned to look. I remembered the young southern black woman, a student at a school of the arts, singing opera to me on my birthday a few years ago. I thought about the South. I was hungry. I had just got off work. I rolled down the window to spit out the shells of sunflower seeds.

Life while moving

Crumble frozen onions and cilantro into soup. Burn up some incense and candles. Pack, sort, clean and listen to either iWine radio or InTuneWithSpirit radio channel. Or, ditch the cleaning and packing and lie on the air mattress in the soon-to-be-vacated room. Read some books from the library such as The Complete Peanuts 1971-1972.
Or The Hand-Sculpted House.

Political oratory of moments (passed)

Red House. Also, Galloway, Sultan. By way of rural potter who commented on Working poor stand..., viewed after Food prices...
AHEM. Sunflower seeds and rice cakes!

Sociological Images

Women's Attitudes Towards Domestic Violence By Country
I have been sent a new blog: Sociological Images.
Women couldn't wear pants on the Senate floor until the 90s?
Starburst Commercial.
Now I MUST clean and pack.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
LATER--I went back to that site. I think this is a very interesting critique. (As are the comments.) I was accidentally driving by Pittsburgh when the story of the shooting first came on the radio.

Last roadtrip down south

Got to see the beach, and those glorious beach skies!
Ate well at Daily Dose (where they were going to be hosting some type of musical entertainment called "Jim Crow") and Poe's.
On the way down, saw a pretty calico cat on cabin porch with rocking chairs at a rest stop near Sumter, SC. On the way up, at a different rest stop I saw a kitty cat with sick eyes by some tupperware dishes of water and catfood and a pile of shredded fried chicken (a mercy or guilt gift if I ever saw one.) Pobrecita. I'm going to be moving into a place with a cat.
Maybe when I have time, after everything else I have to do, I'll check out this new book: South of Broad.

Started and finished

My friend's 12 year old paperback Flaming Iguanas in less than 24 hours.
And I enjoyed it. But now I feel fairly tired. The sun is going down. I want to gaze peacefully on a large field in the country and eat cooked parsnips.

I had to read some letters backward

If Sarcasm Ruled The World.
Gee. Even though the lyrics are all like, about a girl (I guess) taking off for a better life, the Destination Unknown video has nothing about her telling her boss to shove it and then joining a motorcycle gang to cross the Badlands. Why not? I think this version is a little better, tho. It's more showgirlsy.

Packing on Saturday night

Danny Becher - Root to Heart Chakra - Healing, Crystal and Tibetan Bowls. Looking at an old manila envelope with a Pearl Buck stamp and a customs sticker. It contains a picture of a missile launch inside - "Pandora's Box." On the wall, the Sage Woman Calender painting is "Pele" by Hrana Janto.

Unresistant to the effects of time

First look. Second look.

Kids

Some girls were on a bullhorn today, shouting at the buildings.
"Come on, have a heart people, it's our first lemonade stand!"
How children embody some types of soulmates:
I know you are but what am I?
I am rubber, you are glue. Whatever you say bounces off me and sticks to you!

A few roadtrip remnants

Roadtrip up + radio = Redneck cupcakes. Wedding hotel on Mackinac Island + late night PBS "Motown Memories" = Ain't no mountain high enough. Road trip back + motel = newfound interest in biker culture. Leading to websites that say female bikers are "submissive," leading to looking for alternatives, like oldbagsonbikes.com. Residual earache from trip = home remedies lookup.

In my ear today

As I was cleaning, some files on my laptop (it had previous owners) which I had previously ignored. This is not exactly it, but it's the same guy. (Eckhart Tolle.)

Aches of lower limbs

It happens after an evening on one's feet. Anyways, changing the topic, gardens are places of the deepest creativity and plants can talk to those who listen. Although feelings are more significant than words, trying to utilize words to express them can be interesting. Also, there are places in this world where great creative processes have taken place and no one even knows about it. Why so much emphasis only on the end product? One creative process might produce work of art, and one might be a friendship. The latter, which is bigger, may not be celebrated, and the former, which is smaller, might be lauded. How much we miss!!! This is ponderous. Chips. Nuts. Nuts. Thanksgiving.

Photographs

I always knew it was going to be weird when I got older and a lot of "old" photographs would still be in color, as opposed to black and white. Yet, I feel like if you put any group of people in the woods, and then take their picture, you can imagine that the picture was only taken yesterday, even if it was over 100 years ago. (This after accidentally viewing Hunters Garden--never been there, have no idea what it is--after searching for "hunter gatherer," after eating a small cup of beans and rice, and thinking about ways of eating.) I think the illusion is also a bit more believable if none of the persons in the photograph are wearing corsets or hoopskirts.

Really really really really really

woods woods woods woods woods woods woods

Wish I was better at it myself

The absence of negativity: in my experience, a person who can continuously exist in that mind-state is quite a rare find.

Click and drag

Sea Hag Virtual Tour. Scan the cross-beamed ceiling with its eyelight(s). Find the cat! I did that while listening to more of this talk.

What do you think about these?

Sea Hag Soaps.
Elizabeth Gilbert on Ruth Stone's Genius.
~~~~~~~~
Now I'm going to maybe watch--or, since it is getting later, plan to watch: Dr. Horrible.

A thought

Once upon a time, a lot more weird stuff was going on. And a lot of people had more money, too. Now is the lull. Blessed lull. It's a bit of alright.

End of night

Wouldn't you know, I found another photo album to dissect.
After listening to that destressing music, I found myself looking at other things this evening. Like a channel of a young filmmaker.
But then I returned to the song by Robbie Robertson.

Task almost completed!

The Heartbeat Drum song accompanies the task. The last photos of the album are about to be put in a box. Proof that apparently I was two years old once. Today it was difficult to finish this task for some reason. Ow. You'd think I'd had to run ten miles or something.

Bullion?

I thought it was a soup starter.
But the internet is here to teach me things.

Perhaps sometimes this is what is true

The only way to be truly happy is to let the ego die, die, die.
When I went to the park the other day, two monks with shaved heads in orange robes were taking pictures of all the plants. Then they got into the backseat of the car of their hosts or relatives in regular clothing.

Old photographs from May '97

Two slender, smiling human rights workers, a man and a woman, in an office in Lima. (Not pictured: downstairs, in the lobby, we saw some of the parents of the teenagers who were responsible for, and died during the Japanese hostage crisis. I did not know that until after we left. One of our group was Japanese. She had a friend in Peru. At the end of our trip, she went off and had lunch with her friend and ended up meeting with some of the president's family. We also did not know this would happen until after it had occurred. "Very nice people," she said.)
In Cusco: A girl in a pink dress, flanked by white flowers and holding a baton with a globe on top, is also wearing a white sash and a sparkling white pointed crown. She is nearly swallowed up by the dark cave of the caterpillar bulldozer shovel in which she sits. That must've been in a parade. And a blurry shot of two tiny girls in native costume, posing in front of a vehicle with the words "Policia Nacional," imprinted on it, surrounded by alternately smiling or intense policia. And the balconies above them, looking centuries old and Spanish.
(Little sidenote--ha ha. Reading the back of a photo. Various names of girls and professors. Noted that a girl who left because of an attack of endometriosis was not shown and then scribbled "also rotten girl named Em who left b/c she hated Peru." That girl was a disappointment. She dressed cute and carried around a little journal, but she liked to talk badly about others, and about her modeling, and was severely traumatized by poverty and the smell of urine. She wanted to know why a girl in the street couldn't clean her dog and put perfume on it. She thought Peru should be like a resort in Santa Fe. Her parents flew her home so she could go to the beach with her mom.)
Oh my gosh. That's enough. Enough memory lane for today. Off I go.

"Whoa Yeah"

I watched a song done in the manner of a certain type of music. Think of kids skipping school and amusing themselves in various ways, hitch hiking around, getting rides from some older hippies. You're only young once! In this body, anyway. I had a teacher in Jr. High who hated a certain deceased musician because she'd known--and taught--his girlfriend. "Her Daddy was my principal." Also whoever played him in the movie wasn't nearly as good-looking as he was, and that he looked like a god, and she used to see him wait for her afterschool. Anyway, the song is Craigslist.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Got a bit fascinated by Mr. Deleted, Ex-Amish guy.
I found what I was looking for: Devil's Playground documentary.

Recents--music and fiction

Last video link I sent to anyone was Sister Twisted.
Last work of fiction I read was on a website.
The Low End of the High Life by Tina Castle.
As I give away (or perhaps sell) many, I have to return to other books. Soon. Pronto.

Change is good, again.

My luxury today is a temporary rental car with XM radio.
Also I am getting much better at becoming the queen of consolidation.
Adios to many books, clothes, and knickknacks. And some photos.
Some very beautiful Peru pictures are going into a box.
A younger, more flaca self. Very pretty country.
En las casas en la selva, muchos mosquiteros!
Rows of girls in shiny white dresses. Or in school uniforms.
Vespas, hammocks, palm trees, chickens...
An old newspaper photo spread. My younger self has pictures of herself on a blind date with a kid in my math class, in Seattle. I didn't know it was him. My Salvadorian friend said "You're so lucky!" He was half Peruvian, half Chinese American. We had the same birthday. He was Mr. Student Government. We talked about Peru and how he did an internship in DC. That was fun.

"Boy" things on the internet

Besides good ol' The Boy's Guide to Becoming A Man, there's also Mac and Cheese (I'd like to see a video for that) and Coin Operated Boy.

Onward...

Releasing old things might not be a painless process. Specially when you get to some kind of midway point and then just get stuck. Unlike the ignition. Which got unstuck. And then the key slid out while the car was still running. That means some kind of action needs to be taken. And suppose those strange past-something related dreams come back. Some of which are having to do with illness or living conditions. WHAT is the reason, why, which, and wherefore? Sometimes you don't know. Thinking about it is not getting anywhere, so perhaps a shift in focus is in order.
Videos most recently sent to me: Brrrlak. Whoever You Are.
And I just looked at a watermelon radish here.

Something about those books...

These are five just off the top of my head at this moment:
Novels: Heaven Lake and Captives of Time (young adult book).
Memoirs: The memoir of the female chef from India (okay I'll find her name), Meatless Days (the only one I own), The Wishing Year.
I have a sudden craving for chicken in wine.

Books

I love them, but at this point in my life I'm not the kind of person who should own a lot of them. If I get more settled later, I might cultivate a large collection. In the meantime, LET THE WEEDING BEGIN.
(Hooray! cries one part of me. *Gulp* says another.)
Maybe this is why cats are good to have in used bookstores.
Meanwhile, I finished PrairyErth. Next up: Caramba!
Sorry, upside-down exclamation point.

Those conversational topics

Phone Call A) To move oneself or to stay put?
Phone Call B) Catching up on life. Mission Trip to Haiti. Mental illness. Suicides. Rehab. Abrupt ending; need to shop before 9.
Phone Call C) What it feels like to be the last person sitting in the row of cubicles, and then finding out that the company declared bankruptcy. The hail storm hit one part of the state and knocked out the electricity, while in another part, the caller ate Tom Yum cashews (too much cheap, bland food lately) while leaning up against the car and admiring the amazing sky. Mmmm, flavor. You want to just jump into it, 5,000 times more bewitching than a Bob Ross painting.
Phone Call D) 30-Something Girl Z hears about how one girl peddles after another girl around a lake. 30-Something Girl X (shouting): I talked to a hairy guy from Argentina on the internet. He has the biggest dick I've ever seen. Have you ever seen an *uncircumscribed* penis? 30-Something Girl Y (peddling faster, thinking): I'm not going to shout about my sexual life while we're riding our bikes in a park!
100% off-peak minutes.
Let's listen to this again. I'm addicted!