Status post

Sometimes HGTV fills me with despair.

!!!!!!

Well, I guess the president will be signing important legislation right next door tomorrow.

I like really like

Bliss. And pretty much the whole To Venus and Back album, which for some reason also kind of makes me think of driving out into Virginia, past DC, into outlaying areas. Loudoun, Aldie, Middleburg, and such. (And if I drive further, I suppose I will be in the area where long ago ancestors, descendants of a "Sir William the Extravagant," lived when they came here. Wonder where that was.)

I used to think that Riot Poof went "the sun is the woman, the man is the moon" like Australian Aboriginal beliefs.

Speaking of Australia, here's my old friend from school busking in front of the Sydney Opera house...

Interesting stuff

My Visceral Thought.
Prison Education Interview.
Both very interesting, in different ways.

The "Stuck in the Middle" song

IT was a very good song to listen to today!

What does it need

Travel? Crochet? Conference? Frozen Custard? New Job? New Language? Different Book? Meditation?

Really

want to be SUPER good at crocheting and knitting RIGHT now.
And drawing.
I cannot adequately express...yet...arrgh.
I used to feel like that about languages.
Sometimes patience is not my forte.
Hands hands hands hands hands hands hands.

I don't know

why some reviewers get so fixated on a person's age (to the point of getting it wrong! Because, unless I'm much mistaken, 27 in 2004 does not equal still 27 in 2010.) As for the reviewer's last sentence, but did she learn to eat? Well, I suppose she could've been trying to pay a compliment by comparing the author to Annie Dillard. At any rate, the book in question was a good read up until the "Twilight" release party kicked everyone out of the bookstore. (Which was open later anyway, so that was good too.) I also went to the library earlier and was quite shocked. The periodicals have been completely gouged. Yellow "Subscription canceled due to budget cuts" signs were EVERYWHERE. Meh! And regarding the unfortunate instances when one allows bitterness over lack of success to mar self expression: MEH. Whether it be stingy reviewers or bitter grad students who walk around writer's conferences, insufferably superior in attitude, complaining that everyone who received a prize or wads of cash is a worse writer than them. For some reason I read one or two of these diatribes on the internet the other day. Why? Did I miss them? I suppose I was just entirely too overflowing with joy as I perused websites about knitting. I need to rehabilitate the little inner masochist. Go ahead, and enjoy the joy, IT'S OKAY!!!!!

Grey Gardens

Tonight I went to a historic commission meeting at the big weird Masonic Temple, and then talked to my friend about Grey Gardens, because we watched the HBO movie on Sunday. Due to the fact that I managed to bind off without unraveling, I completed my first knitting project ever that night. A teal blue slightly misshapen bookmark or glasses lens cleaner! I'm so proud. Onwards to more projects. (Caps, scarves, potholders???)
With the two Edies, its almost like with Thomas Merton: I kind of feel like they are still alive.
People.
~~~~
Currently I'm moving in with my mother. So far it has involved a really old apartment in Arlington, crazy dogs, trips to the ER, and a variety of smells. (Hallway, dog, Febreeze.) Also a good trip to a restaurant where my mom told the story about how when she first saw me in the nursery she thought I was a black baby. Today, I was trying to take a nap before work. "WHAT?" my mother yelled at me. "I was just stressed out!" I had woken up, yelling or something, in protest to a commercial I somehow concocted in my head, involved a light skinned African American woman dancing around in sunlight and acting happy and fulfilled by some household cleaner product. Why did I do that. Maybe it's all the HGTV. But I like HGTV. However, I just watched a bit of HGTV with the sound off. It came to the part where they get to their house and find the note on the door that tells them about a "gift" from HGTV. And the family all walked in and all but collapsed in joy and rapture because of the giant flat screen embedded into the wall RIGHT OVER THE FIREPLACE.
The little girl's eyes.
It's amazing how much I wanted to scream.

Sure gets stuck in my head a lot lately

Glory of the 80s

I heart

collecting and reading travel literature from visitor centers. More than the average person, apparently. (So I've been told.) Often, the idea of lying on a well-made bed, poring over travel literature is quite a blissful one for me. Then again, I once lived in a foreign country with only 3 books to read for three months, and I learned how to make them slo-o-o-w-ly last.
Also I love to reread books. Multiple times. Yay for ADD.

Pets

As a kid, I might've (after I was allowed to get a cat) thought that I was a cat person among cat people, but then they all turned into dog people, and I was dubbed "Aunt Cruella." Still, I suppose a side of me could be a dog person. I recently discovered the joy of the dog park. It really is nice to let the little beast off the the leash and run around and enjoy himself, presuming that everyone present plays well with others. When I was younger, and more secretly full of myself, I thought I had a special connection with certain artists of the past and that I was meant to create some kind of beautiful work out of that, and so I somewhat felt harrumphy when I saw others doing so first. That was a long time ago, but after seeing a picture of one of those people surrounded by beloved pets, it kind of made me feel just a smidgen of guilt, (even though it was a long time ago!) Oh and I read all about Cesar Milan in February's Elle when I was in a doctor's waiting room. And had unexpected emotional moments watching a Dog Whisperer episode not long after that. But yes. There is the joy of the dog park. Not far from Cake Love, with it's little bowl of water, set out on the sidewalk for the dog lovers.

Cape Wind.

Bueno

There's a show on about the Peruvian Amazon.
I was living there in the 90s.
I wonder what to do with that.