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Friday, April 29, 2011
Housework!
House...work....house...work....
slog...through...memory...banks...of...words...
Housework = fun. Fun!!!!
Fans of fun are fans of housework.
slog...through...memory...banks...of...words...
Housework = fun. Fun!!!!
Fans of fun are fans of housework.
Thursday, April 28, 2011
Things To Really Like In Life
Healthy car tires without nails in them.
It occured to me to say that for some reason.
What else?
Wildflowers, and also, we seem to need them to survive.
It occured to me to say that for some reason.
What else?
Wildflowers, and also, we seem to need them to survive.
The point
Pretty much, I guess. The point of life is...try to do whatever good you were supposed to do. Or else you'll have to come back and do it. Perhaps it's a very oversimplified to say it that way, but it's like that. Language is pesky that way.
Koan
Strangely, I have never considered a koan. I'd have thought I would have, but no. Here's a site that has some. On first glance, maybe I was most interested in "Blow Out A Candle" and "Buddha Twirls a Flower."
??
Maybe later.
??
Maybe later.
Yay you, yay UFC
Oh, this was a charming story. GSP uses bully pulpit for noble cause.
Or I thought so, until the formerly bullied paragon of nobility decided to gloat over the fact that the prettiest girl in his school turned "fat and ugly."
See, judging women by their looks and never paying them equally and slandering women as part of the insults of sports "you throw like a girl, etc."
That's not like REAL bullying.
That's just MISOGYNY.
That's JUST LIFE!
Or I thought so, until the formerly bullied paragon of nobility decided to gloat over the fact that the prettiest girl in his school turned "fat and ugly."
See, judging women by their looks and never paying them equally and slandering women as part of the insults of sports "you throw like a girl, etc."
That's not like REAL bullying.
That's just MISOGYNY.
That's JUST LIFE!
Morning amusement
Pencil's on the floor. Use toes to clutch it. Bend knee, transfer to hand, and then to the table top surface.
they so should
I've some friends who are much better writers than I...I am an ideas person and they are good at details. Feels fine to say it. Though perhaps I will try to get better at details too. Plus I have a friend who doesn't want to be the nice girl at work since the nice girl at work never gets $$$. Let's hope the future arrives quick.
despues
yogurt + lemon + vanilla + local honey
& Brave Sir Robin scenes (Monty Python)
&.....que mas...
& Brave Sir Robin scenes (Monty Python)
&.....que mas...
Wednesday, April 27, 2011
It's a hiccupy eve
A girl sent me this website and said she was so freaked out by it....
(insert nudist website that girl sent you when you find it.)
YQ: So I’ve heard or read that some people think that if they’re too big they don’t like it.
XZ: I dunno…if they’re too big they don’t seem as sexy?
YQ: So who are you thinking about that have too large aureole that don’t seem as sexy.
XZ: I don’t know!
YQ: Oh come on…you must have SOME frame of reference for overly large aureole! HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA
XZ: You really crack yourself up don’t you.
YQ: HA HA HA HA HA HA HA….
~~~~
My brain still thinks music is bellisisimo.
I'd write in another language if I had the benefit.
(insert nudist website that girl sent you when you find it.)
YQ: So I’ve heard or read that some people think that if they’re too big they don’t like it.
XZ: I dunno…if they’re too big they don’t seem as sexy?
YQ: So who are you thinking about that have too large aureole that don’t seem as sexy.
XZ: I don’t know!
YQ: Oh come on…you must have SOME frame of reference for overly large aureole! HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA
XZ: You really crack yourself up don’t you.
YQ: HA HA HA HA HA HA HA….
~~~~
My brain still thinks music is bellisisimo.
I'd write in another language if I had the benefit.
Insight
Lots of boys know the whole patriarchy thing's a scam.
Sometimes they don't know quite how to articulate it or admit it, but...
they know!
Sometimes they don't know quite how to articulate it or admit it, but...
they know!
The peasant and the royal one
Maybe it could be fun to concoct this allegorical piece/pastiche/cupcake sculpture, imparting the tale of woe of a personal assistant who, through a very convoluted set of circumstances, got smart and decided to follow a trail of bread crumbs dropping from the hand of another person—oh what the hell, lets even say it was a person of impoverished nobility—for a while. To help himself make art. And lo and behold, it worked out. Maybe because of that, and probably for a whole lot of other reasons.
Eventually the one that got trailed around thought she’d figured some of it out. And it was interesting, especially as she realized P.A. went to this institution that looked really rotten. It was sort of emblematic of the worst crimes. Maybe she saw someone with four hundred cuts head to toe because of the institution of rottenness. Although, like many institutions, there is a possibility that it wasn’t entirely rotten. But unfortunately, it was certainly experienced as such.
Sometimes it used the artist as a poster boy and then he was all like, this was such a greeeaaaat place…I feel soooo sorrrry for those young people nowadays who don’t know how coooool it was….and he was sort of a jackass. In the end though, circumstances contrived….hey, is someone saying that sounds contrived?…anyway…he got educated. By the end of his life, he was not only a successful architect, but also a blissful yogi meditator sort, who gave plenty of his fortune (if it was such) away to organizations that assisted people who were helping other people recover from assault, or other icky things that people STILL don’t want to talk about. Light shone in various brains! This was fantastic, and the community built a new institution. Not only were the cupcakes delicious, but it was completely up to code. The wiring was not the least bit faulty. And that’s the end, for a time’s being. Excellent Cupcakes!
Well…actually there was a teeny electrical fire. It started in the theater. It had happened when she walked by this pile of dirt next to a dam, which kind of reminded her of Dante’s mountain in Purgatory. Some things were still kind of screwy. Someone born in 1987 could make 57 million for shooting hoops and doing that other stuff that gets done on the court of sports (if you’re a male), and could also plumb the depths of cupcakery, declaring “that one’s quite obviously the most scrumptious, for it won the prize!!!” to an impressed audience. Nevertheless, the response was not insignificant. And at one point, the whole neighborhood was saturated with a squadron of emergency response vehicles. In part because a kid had fallen off his skateboard, and broke his arm. Pretty much, it was an improvement. A really good gesture. Overall.
Eventually the one that got trailed around thought she’d figured some of it out. And it was interesting, especially as she realized P.A. went to this institution that looked really rotten. It was sort of emblematic of the worst crimes. Maybe she saw someone with four hundred cuts head to toe because of the institution of rottenness. Although, like many institutions, there is a possibility that it wasn’t entirely rotten. But unfortunately, it was certainly experienced as such.
Sometimes it used the artist as a poster boy and then he was all like, this was such a greeeaaaat place…I feel soooo sorrrry for those young people nowadays who don’t know how coooool it was….and he was sort of a jackass. In the end though, circumstances contrived….hey, is someone saying that sounds contrived?…anyway…he got educated. By the end of his life, he was not only a successful architect, but also a blissful yogi meditator sort, who gave plenty of his fortune (if it was such) away to organizations that assisted people who were helping other people recover from assault, or other icky things that people STILL don’t want to talk about. Light shone in various brains! This was fantastic, and the community built a new institution. Not only were the cupcakes delicious, but it was completely up to code. The wiring was not the least bit faulty. And that’s the end, for a time’s being. Excellent Cupcakes!
Well…actually there was a teeny electrical fire. It started in the theater. It had happened when she walked by this pile of dirt next to a dam, which kind of reminded her of Dante’s mountain in Purgatory. Some things were still kind of screwy. Someone born in 1987 could make 57 million for shooting hoops and doing that other stuff that gets done on the court of sports (if you’re a male), and could also plumb the depths of cupcakery, declaring “that one’s quite obviously the most scrumptious, for it won the prize!!!” to an impressed audience. Nevertheless, the response was not insignificant. And at one point, the whole neighborhood was saturated with a squadron of emergency response vehicles. In part because a kid had fallen off his skateboard, and broke his arm. Pretty much, it was an improvement. A really good gesture. Overall.
Tuesday, April 26, 2011
Monday, April 25, 2011
Saturday, April 23, 2011
A & B
A: "So I don't know why but I checked out Portia de Rossi's memoir from the library. Sometimes I feel like there should be a statute of limitations on the amount of books that get published about the problems of the priviledged."
B: "People want to relate to other people. You can't lock them away in an ivory tower."
Later, A dives in, feeling all, like, "Teach me the problems of the priviledged!" Reading to page 15, A comes to feel that perhaps what B said is right.
B: "People want to relate to other people. You can't lock them away in an ivory tower."
Later, A dives in, feeling all, like, "Teach me the problems of the priviledged!" Reading to page 15, A comes to feel that perhaps what B said is right.
Friday, April 22, 2011
hmmmmm....
Hoping this never goes away. Cut Chemist's "The Garden" with something (scenes from Animatrix?) on video.
Monday, April 18, 2011
Happy
What can you do (assuming you have stock and it matters to you) when three guys tell you about S & P and how stocks tumbled?
Call someone. Don't jump. Pray to the Virgin. Don't Worry Be Happy.
And of course you can do that even if you don't have stock because there's that always trickle down effect that just spreads....
~~~~~~~
You know, maybe one day it will be a great time to discover and appreciate the existence of fine wines and cosmetics and f--- all but this Monday just does not seem like that day. Or maybe it does to some people. Lucky them. It's better to appreciate a flower maybe. Flower! How you dare to bloom! And you are free! Free!!
Call someone. Don't jump. Pray to the Virgin. Don't Worry Be Happy.
And of course you can do that even if you don't have stock because there's that always trickle down effect that just spreads....
~~~~~~~
You know, maybe one day it will be a great time to discover and appreciate the existence of fine wines and cosmetics and f--- all but this Monday just does not seem like that day. Or maybe it does to some people. Lucky them. It's better to appreciate a flower maybe. Flower! How you dare to bloom! And you are free! Free!!
Something There?
MIGHT have been something I heard.
But. Maybe Not.
Some other version maybe?
Seems not possible to find.
Instead, found something else and something else and something else...
Something There Remix (was something else)
Something There Acoustic (ditto)
Glyphs of the Horizon
Zannat
But. Maybe Not.
Some other version maybe?
Seems not possible to find.
Instead, found something else and something else and something else...
Something There Remix (was something else)
Something There Acoustic (ditto)
Glyphs of the Horizon
Zannat
Tuesday, April 12, 2011
Kewl
Emerald-Eyed Cat Mystery covers
I had "Wanderer 'Arch' cover by Hector Garrido."
A review by S. W. Albert (Could she have written it, perchance?)
Girl Sleuth
I had "Wanderer 'Arch' cover by Hector Garrido."
A review by S. W. Albert (Could she have written it, perchance?)
Girl Sleuth
Monday, April 11, 2011
Songy things
I watched an author deconstruct how he feels about the song "Africa" by Toto. It was funny and yeah, I liked it growing up, too. Lots! And it totally deserved to be made fun of...watching the 80s video of the song reaffirmed this. Toto: Africa
Yesterday, as yet another wailing song by some guy singing about a girl who done him wrong came on the radio, I was feeling kvetchy. (I'd just seen a scene on some sci-fi fantasy show that ended with the hero punching the lights out of the sexy evil villian. But it was okay you know since he did it after he held a gun to her head, and he didn't really kill her, even though SHE wanted to kill HIM, and plus, you know, she writhing under him and being all sexy-acting.)
I said:
"I want there to be a song like this but it's about a girl singing to her ovary. And she's all like, 'oh, ovary, you cause me so much pain, but I just don't wanna give on on you, oh ovary, I just don't know what to do.' Just like the guy is wailing to that girl. There's plenty of ovarian pain out there in the universe so why haven't I heard of a song like that?
Just a thought.
Anyways...Steve Almond and Toto.
~~~~
As a bonus, I'm going to read Super Hot Son-on-Mom Word Sex & Super Hot Prof-on-Student Word Sex.
Yesterday, as yet another wailing song by some guy singing about a girl who done him wrong came on the radio, I was feeling kvetchy. (I'd just seen a scene on some sci-fi fantasy show that ended with the hero punching the lights out of the sexy evil villian. But it was okay you know since he did it after he held a gun to her head, and he didn't really kill her, even though SHE wanted to kill HIM, and plus, you know, she writhing under him and being all sexy-acting.)
I said:
"I want there to be a song like this but it's about a girl singing to her ovary. And she's all like, 'oh, ovary, you cause me so much pain, but I just don't wanna give on on you, oh ovary, I just don't know what to do.' Just like the guy is wailing to that girl. There's plenty of ovarian pain out there in the universe so why haven't I heard of a song like that?
Just a thought.
Anyways...Steve Almond and Toto.
~~~~
As a bonus, I'm going to read Super Hot Son-on-Mom Word Sex & Super Hot Prof-on-Student Word Sex.
Saturday, April 09, 2011
What kind of reader?
Other things are far more interesting than a dream like this, but I wrote it anyway.
Dream: At a literary conference in a great auditorium, I'm told the man sitting in front of me thinks women are overly reductive in how they look at things because they are always putting their ideas in the form of comic book thought balloons. "Oh really," I say and sit behind him. The girl next to me begins to once again explain all about this belief.
The auditorium falls silent. A man on stage is supposed to be speaking, but he hears her talking, and he looks aghast. People in the audience begin to snicker. The snickering spreads and soon we are all laughing, somewhat nervously and somewhat warmly. I see people in the balconies and opera boxes beginning to stand up. The audience gives a standing ovation. Insanity!
Scene switches: I am on the top floor of a building, peering through a little rectangular window that opens onto a lower floor. I almost can't breathe. A pale, dark-haired, ethereal girl in white floats towards the window and me, and reads an exquisite yet depressive poem. A polite (but also genuine) smattering of applause comes from a little group of people behind us. The girl prepares to read another poem and I can't stand it, I must leave now and cough up the mucus. She looks surprised as I run out of the room, and I'm sorry for my rudeness, but more preoccupied with my difficulty in breathing.
In the woman's room, a young man is walking around with bold self assurance. As soon as he sees me, he thinks (but doesn't say) "Hey, is this the women's room?" I just hear him think it. He almost leaves, but then he decides to walk around some more. I go around to all the stalls, flushing toilets, and continue to stare at him without speaking. I feel defiant. Maybe he has nefarious intentions, but I don't care why he's in here, I just want him out. He finally leaves. Another girl walks in. She looks at me and then goes into one of the stalls I've just flushed. I lock myself in the big handicapped stall and prepare to purge.
Dream: At a literary conference in a great auditorium, I'm told the man sitting in front of me thinks women are overly reductive in how they look at things because they are always putting their ideas in the form of comic book thought balloons. "Oh really," I say and sit behind him. The girl next to me begins to once again explain all about this belief.
The auditorium falls silent. A man on stage is supposed to be speaking, but he hears her talking, and he looks aghast. People in the audience begin to snicker. The snickering spreads and soon we are all laughing, somewhat nervously and somewhat warmly. I see people in the balconies and opera boxes beginning to stand up. The audience gives a standing ovation. Insanity!
Scene switches: I am on the top floor of a building, peering through a little rectangular window that opens onto a lower floor. I almost can't breathe. A pale, dark-haired, ethereal girl in white floats towards the window and me, and reads an exquisite yet depressive poem. A polite (but also genuine) smattering of applause comes from a little group of people behind us. The girl prepares to read another poem and I can't stand it, I must leave now and cough up the mucus. She looks surprised as I run out of the room, and I'm sorry for my rudeness, but more preoccupied with my difficulty in breathing.
In the woman's room, a young man is walking around with bold self assurance. As soon as he sees me, he thinks (but doesn't say) "Hey, is this the women's room?" I just hear him think it. He almost leaves, but then he decides to walk around some more. I go around to all the stalls, flushing toilets, and continue to stare at him without speaking. I feel defiant. Maybe he has nefarious intentions, but I don't care why he's in here, I just want him out. He finally leaves. Another girl walks in. She looks at me and then goes into one of the stalls I've just flushed. I lock myself in the big handicapped stall and prepare to purge.
Friday, April 08, 2011
On Women Conductors
"Once, when I said I was a conductor, someone exclaimed, 'Oh, I love trains!' That was an unusual response, if only because the number of women driving trains seems about as small as the number driving orchestras."
--Marietta Cheng, "Women Conductors: Has the Train Left the Station?"
"No matter how hard I tried, I could not be the same"
--Marietta Cheng, "Women Conductors: Has the Train Left the Station?"
http://www.polyphonic.org/harmony/6/Women_Conductors_Cheng.pdf
http://osfl.org/marietta-cheng-conductor-laureate
Tchaikovsky "Francesca da Rimini", Op. 32, Part 1/2 conducted by M. Cheng
--Marietta Cheng, "Women Conductors: Has the Train Left the Station?"
"No matter how hard I tried, I could not be the same"
--Marietta Cheng, "Women Conductors: Has the Train Left the Station?"
http://www.polyphonic.org/harmony/6/Women_Conductors_Cheng.pdf
http://osfl.org/marietta-cheng-conductor-laureate
Tchaikovsky "Francesca da Rimini", Op. 32, Part 1/2 conducted by M. Cheng
people
Some dead people who, it has seemed, decided to like or somehow favor me...B. Franklin, Thoreau, Christine de Pizan, Irene MacDonald, Elisabetta Sirani, St. Augustine, Thomas Beckett, Beatrice D'Este, Dante, Royal Alfred who liked learning, and some others I can't think of immediately off the top of my head or who knows what their names were? Funny bunch. Oh yeah. B. Schroeder...
B.F.'s Funeral & Grave
Elisabetta's on someone's album cover.
B.F.'s Funeral & Grave
Elisabetta's on someone's album cover.
People in parking lots
People pass in and outdoors and there are older people and younger people and different souls in each, and different conciousnesses floating in different heads, like balloons hurrying in or out of a pharmacy clutching bags with throat spray and lozenges. But a soul in one body can be in another body next life.
And I think it's really true.
And I think it's really true.
Thursday, April 07, 2011
ABCDEFG
http://dontconformtransform.wordpress.com/2011/04/04/protect-this-house-who-will-females-as-objects-vs-agents/
from
http://feministletters.wordpress.com/2011/03/30/adidas-wants-us-all-in-–-unless-you’re-a-girl/
&
http://feministletters.wordpress.com/2011/03/29/today-i-failed-as-a-feminist/
&
http://msmagazine.com/blog/blog/2011/04/04/joe-biden-urges-schools-to-address-sexual-assault-epidemic/
finally
from
http://feministletters.wordpress.com/2011/03/30/adidas-wants-us-all-in-–-unless-you’re-a-girl/
&
http://feministletters.wordpress.com/2011/03/29/today-i-failed-as-a-feminist/
&
http://msmagazine.com/blog/blog/2011/04/04/joe-biden-urges-schools-to-address-sexual-assault-epidemic/
finally
Tuesday, April 05, 2011
Hmmm
Some reason I felt like appreciating the awesomeness of a song...
"You're So Vain"
Singer is so fantastic looking in her weigh.
(Splendid typo. Leave it.)
Guy in concept video reminds me of Joaquin Phoenix when he was in a certain phase.
Someone put on I'm Still Here the other night.
But what if I can't get in the mood to find it funny because I hate he's rich?
So then we watched Please Give.
They were sorta rich too...
Oh.
I truly dislike it when I am eating, or thinking about eating, and a fly flies up in front of me.
God.
"You're So Vain"
Singer is so fantastic looking in her weigh.
(Splendid typo. Leave it.)
Guy in concept video reminds me of Joaquin Phoenix when he was in a certain phase.
Someone put on I'm Still Here the other night.
But what if I can't get in the mood to find it funny because I hate he's rich?
So then we watched Please Give.
They were sorta rich too...
Oh.
I truly dislike it when I am eating, or thinking about eating, and a fly flies up in front of me.
God.
Female Land Surveyors
Do they exist?
Yes, according to the National Museum of Surveying blog post from last December.
Quote: "In Saskatchewan, it took until 2007 for the first female, Jill Susanne, to be awarded a commission. The Saskatchewan Land Survey Association was established in 1910. Apparently only the presidency is less accepting of women. In 2000, Texas finally licensed their first female licensed state land surveyor, Nedra Foster. While she was a Registered Professional Land Surveyor, she was the first LSLS.
I believe this is good enough, as this took hours of research just to find these stories."
Another one: Women Surveyors
Yes, according to the National Museum of Surveying blog post from last December.
Quote: "In Saskatchewan, it took until 2007 for the first female, Jill Susanne, to be awarded a commission. The Saskatchewan Land Survey Association was established in 1910. Apparently only the presidency is less accepting of women. In 2000, Texas finally licensed their first female licensed state land surveyor, Nedra Foster. While she was a Registered Professional Land Surveyor, she was the first LSLS.
I believe this is good enough, as this took hours of research just to find these stories."
Another one: Women Surveyors