my car...

my car, my car, my car...my kar-ma...seems to be driving exceptionally well...

conversationalist topics

car
rent
money
work
job
divorce
stress
IRS tax law anyone???

more star art

http://www.bnr-art.com/oleg/sparkling_star.htm

http://www.washingtonprintmakers.com/artists/matthews/star_bucket_320.jpg

http://www.newyorkartists.net/Hunter/Star.jpg

sort of a cool image

It looks mandala-ish.

how to make it a link I do not know.

http://www.washingtonprintmakers.com/artists/osher/star_crossed_320.jpg

I'm reprinting the star poem

STARS

While we
Know they are
Enormous suns,
Gold lashing
Fire-oceans,
Seas of heavy
Silver flame,

They look as
Though they could
Be swept
Down, and heaped,
Cold crystal
Sparks, in one
Cupped palm.

Valerie Worth

But I also like this pixies song...

"I live cement
I hate this street
Give dirt to me
I bite lament
This human form
Where I was born
I now repent
CARIBOU..."


You know, somehow the lyrics seem a lot less stark when you're actually just listening to the song and singing them than they do in print.

oh financial woes...

student loans, car bills, and now the IRS! whyyyyyy....
do you know they charge interest on money that they actually gave you???
that doesn't seem fair...

I feel tired...I'm thinking of a pixies song....I think it goes...


One two three
She's a real left winger 'cause she been down south
And held peasants in her arms
She said "I could tell you a story that could make you cry"
"What about you?"
I said "Me too"
"I could tell you a story that will make you cry"
And she sighed "Aaahh"
I said "I wanna be a singer like Lou Reed"
"I like Lou Reed" she said sticking her tongue in my ear
"Let's go, let's sit, let's talk"
"Politics go so good with beer"
"And while we're at it baby, why don't you tell me one of your biggest fears?"
I said "Loosing my penis to a whore with disease"
"Just kidding" I said "Loosing my life to a whore with disease"
I said "Please... I'm a humble guy with a healthy desire"
"Don't give me no shit because..."

I'VE BEEN TIRED.

damn...I might actually be inspired to clean my house. or apartment, rather.

sometimes I like country music

like in the car, driving up to lackawanna state park in pennsylvania.

this tim mcgraw song...

I went sky diving
I went Rocky Mountain climbing
I went 2.7 seconds on a bull named fumanchu
and I loved deeper and I spoke sweeter
and I gave forgiveness I’d been denying
and he said someday I hope you get the chance
to live like you were dying.

The heart will always surpass the mind.

cats cats cats cats cats

for some reason I feel like being kid-like

unicorns unicorns unicorns unicorns unicorns

when did I ever out grow them?

nonsense poem

I choose friendship
I choose grace
I choose stars
inside your face

song in my head...

leaving on a jet plane....

dear e-mail

thanks for the e-memories.

let me live my life...

grathias

I like reading other peoples' blogs...

when the other people talk about the kind of house they grew up in or where they went on vacations to every summer or things like that (especially if they are a WRITER because then they will often include funny quirky offbeat or lightly traumatic but interesting things). every family must have a culture.

I've been traveling around to various states and I've just about run out of steam or money. Actually, not steam, but yes, money. So. I have to figure out where to move and I have to bring my cat with me. (My current apartment does not allow pets.) I'm really vascillating between staying here or moving. I really keep changing my mind about it about 1,000 times a day. Or at least ten, which is still a lot. I suppose I should feel lucky I have so many choices but I feel kind of panicked...and without any permanent place or home...but...perhaps this will change...I hope so...

quote

"change is good
especially when it stays
in your pocket"

--trader joe's shopping bag


how interesting this quote is, I thought to myself this morning. how interesting. because suddenly I realize the limitations of the financial resource of my checking account, having mostly travelled and not worked this summer (not for pay anyway--I worked while visiting by helping out family, and occasionally helping one of my friends clean plaster casts from the Metropolitan Museum of Art)

Safe in their alabaster chambers...

This is an interesting version of an Emily Dickinson poem...it seems to fuse two versions together. But I miss all of the dashes that come with the last stanza, in other versions

It came from http://academic.brooklyn.cuny.edu/english/melani/cs6/alabaster.html


Safe in their alabaster chambers,
Untouched by morning and untouched by noon,
Sleep the meek members of the resurrection,
Rafter of satin, and roof of stone.

Light laughs the breeze in her castle of sunshine;
Babbles the bee in a stolid ear;
Pipe the sweet birds in ignorant cadence,--
Ah, what sagacity perished here!

Grand go the years in the crescent above them;
Worlds scoop their arcs, and firmaments row,
Diadems drop and Doges surrender,
Soundless as dots on a disk of snow.

Today I drove to little upstate New York towns

and continuously listened to Blonde Redhead's "misery is a butterfly"

thats all I'm going to type

my computer is being funky

star poem

STARS

While we
Know they are
Enormous suns,
Gold lashing
Fire-oceans,
Seas of heavy
Silver flame,

They look as
Though they could
Be swept
Down, and heaped,
Cold crystal
Sparks, in one
Cupped palm.

Valerie Worth

Ha Ha Ha

Yes and if the link worked you would go to:

http://www.greengiant.com/history.htm

Ho Ho Ho

nope its not Santa...its THE JOLLY GREEN GIANT TIME LINE!!!

I'm in the South

cultivating my accent

feasting at K & W

not helping unpack the boxes

until today

thank god for antibiotics or else garlic

(my mother would definitely vote for antibiotics)

i'm going to help her hang up a flag now

is it an american flag? I asked

she replied

yeah, I can't find the...!@#$%^&*

??

links did not work?

full fathom five....

type this phrase from the tempest in google and you come up with some interesting things...

http://www.cs.rice.edu/~ssiyer/minstrels/poems/16.html

http://strangeways.tripod.com/

http://pearls.blogspot.com/

http://www.fametracker.com/blue_moons/misc_shyamalan.shtml

Or, hey, for actual links....

Tempest Thoughts

I.

...But this rough magic
I here abjure, and when I have required
some heavenly music....
I'll drown my book

Shakespeare's The Tempest 5.1.50-52,57

II.

Where the bee sucks, there suck I.
In a cowslip's bell I lie;
There I couch when owls do cry.
On the bat's back I do fly
After summer merrily.
Merrily, merrily shall I live now
Under the blossom that hangs on the bough.

The Tempest 5.1.88-94

III.

"...like this captious bee you will die from the world and sink into oblivion."

(See the last lines of the first poem in G. Guddding's book entitled "A Defense of Poetry" which I may misquote as I currently do not have a copy of it in front of me.)

You and I songs #2

"One Day I Slowly Floated Away" By Eisley

One day I slowly floated away
One day I slowly floated away
All the war horses wore rubber bands
to hide their hooves from sinking sand
The commander in charge was hoping that
The destiny was not to die

Wake up in the morning I shall
Wake up and so shall you
And I wake up, the sun is beautiful
And it is warming you and I
Fragile as we lie

Hard to foresee the future
Our bodies were growing thin
Glimpsing the peeling paint of
The nurse's ivory chain
You've got a lot of nerve coming here
Your eyes are beating rhythms way
Faster than the speeding bullet that
took the life of your radio

Wake up in the morning I shall
Wake up and so shall you
And I wake up, the sun is beautiful
And it is warming you and I
Fragile as we lie

And in the corner chair
soft and soap-scented
my darling cries apologies
We foresee the mercy
That's been shown my young limbs
Will not go unthanked or unseen

Wake up in the morning I shall
Wake up and so shall you
And I wake up, the sun is beautiful
And it is warming you and I
Fragile as we lie

You and I songs #1

too much work is not a good enough excuse to not enjoy anything. Such as two different kinds of "You and I" songs. Good songs...

For You and I by Keren Ann

Somewhere late at night
the merman called the breeze
found and out of sight
and simply watched at ease
The sea was cold as ice
and lonely as it seems
The wind came to my eyes
and woke me from a dream

And its over now for you and I
For you and I
Its over now for you and I
for you and I

Out there in the sand
I waited for the dawn
to bring me thoughts from other lands
and then you came along

But its over now for you and I
for you and I
Its over now for you and I
for you and I

Somewhere late at night
the merman called the breeze
found an out of sight
and simply watched at ease

some of the songs they sing

--rollin' on the river

--delta dawn (whats that flower you have on / could it be a faded rose from days gone by???)

--the "i saw your picture today" song

--proud to be an american

--cheer up sleepy jean oh what can it mean to a daydream believer and a home coming queen...

karaoke monsters

never
never
never move one store down from a mysterious looking liquor store with shades drawn and interesting little political manifestos taped inside of the windows
for even though it once appeared
that your apartment was next to a quiet little shoe repair shop
that shop is tiny
and does not stretch all the way to the back of the building
the bar does stretch
all the way back
the bar has a back room
the bar is not a liquor store
the back room is next to your apartment
the karaoke monsters enjoy singing
and they probably will not shut up until 3 a.m.

arrrrgh!!!!

Lengthy

Damn.

Not even that made the bottom post disappear from the bottom of the page?

It will go.

I must think of something

Long.

Looooong

L

O

O

O

O

O

N

G

.

.

.

Liebestraum

!!!!!!!!!!!

was

@@@

almost

######

or

$$

perhaps

%%%%%%%

entirely

^^^^^^^^

shot

&&&&

in

**

this

((((

city

))))

jewels
magenta red
silver
turquoise
hot pink
deep forest
green

stripes
old paint
burglar bars
a window
ice
gray concrete
broken tiles

getting needles stuck into oneself while lying on a table by a woman who can't seem to communicate whats going on and then having the needle points bleed and she still can't seem to explain why this happens and she acts most uncomfortable...

I'd like to thank the academy...

So the movie "Million Dollar Baby" just won all these awards and its funny cause I just saw that movie last night with a friend of mine and watched the Academy Awards with the same person, and after we saw the movie we went to a diner where I ordered a salad and then a gigantic, whopping slice of lemon merengue pie which I could not finish and which caused me to bounce around or tremor or something (according to him) and tonight just before it won an award I started craving another slice of that pie...I heard that wineries started selling out of Pinot Noir or whatever, just because of that "Sideways" movie. Wouldn't it be funny if diners all across America started selling out of lemon merengue pie? Hah.

--Insert lemon merengue pie graphic HERE

tea

There is an art to loose leaf tea, I'm discovering. Certain combinations are quite palatable; others are not.

For example, if you put 1-2 teaspoons of loose green tea in the bottom of a "grande" size mug and layer it with approximately half a dozen to a dozen dried chrysanthemum blossoms, & then pour boiling water over it...thats a pretty nice beverage.

But when you decide to go all crazy with it and enhance your drink with with a pink of rosebuds here, a sprinkle of uva ursi there, and why not tosss in some red clover while you're at it...ugh. Don't do it unless you feel like drinking a dried flower watery mess.

By the way I didn't mean to say "a pink of rosebuds" but I kept it in because I like it.

I am super post-happy on this blog.

I like to procrastinate and I have no television.

Today I bit it on a flight of icy steps. The chrysanthemum tea prescribed by the acupunturist flew out of the cup...a silver Copco cup I bought at Wegmans. That went flying, too, and the lid broke apart. Green tea/chrysanthemum mush was scattered over the sidewalk (also icy). "Are you okay?" the people next door asked, but only after I thought "hey, why aren't those people asking me if I'm okay already" "Yeah I'm okay." I said. My fingers were freezing as I walked a block and a half to my car and tried to put the plastic lid back together. I finally managed it after I sat in my car, got my fingers a bit warmed up a bit, and said to myself, "fuck, that was scary."

now in paperback...

Home repair...electrical wiring...alternative remedies...a history of famous seductresses...Barnes and Noble should love me for these impulse buys. Why would someone compulsively buy books, or spend money on expensive $1.99 amaretto truffles, and then (in an effort to curb spending) graduate on to a daily habit of melting a dish of chocolate chips in a stove top pan of boiling water & adding top shelf amaretto?

Maybe its because some people will say things like" I am not a good person" or "I am cruel." Some people think that since they've "come clean" and they've been "honest" about who they "really" are, that is the perfect excuse for them to act in a way that some would deem"cruel." I, however, think that should qualify as a logical fallacy...

"Dry. A memoir." by Augusten Burroughs was the most recent impulse buy. So far, its funny ;-)

Another one that I liked is "May and Amy" by Josceline Dimbleby. But its hardcover so I haven't bought it. Its all about relationships and letters exchanged between the Pre-Raphaelite artist Edward Burne Jones and Dimbleby's ancestors (a mother and a daughter).

In some ways, this has been a nice semester; it affords me some time to read for pleasure.

Rearranging furniture is fun, and being scared of where you live isn't. :-D

So about that website I mentioned earlier...it really is the most riveting procrastination tool that I've stumbled across in quite a while.

If you're into cartoons and eschew long paragraphs, check out Lenore's page.

If you like cooking, creative writing exercises, and don't mind knowing that a beautiful girl can eat whatever she wants and never gain an ounce (ha ha) check out Voltaire's page.

If you want to know what its like to get your body type brutally dissected on a message board by a bunch misogynists, check out Quinne's page.

Monet's page is interesting...she's an aspiring art student...also Al's page and the links to her friends' pages (can't think of anything catchy to say about them, I just think they're interesting.)

FYI

Woke up really early--like 4 or 5 a.m.--because of a terrifying ungodly noise that seemed to be coming into my apartment through the direction of the burglar bar windows. Lay in bed with stomach cramping from fear. Eventually managed to gear up the courage to peek out the window...saw nothing but the outline of the neighbors' burglar bar windows reflected on the snow...later when it became more light outside I went into the kitchen to eat some yogurt and the ungodly noise came back and I peeked out that window and saw a tiny bit of light sweeping the snow but still no indication of what the noise was. However, I think it might have just been a snow plow paving a parking lot or something.

Future entries may be dedicated to more pleasant and safe seeming topics, such as strawberries and Chinese restaurants. Don't ask me why those come to mind...probably at some point in life when I was feeling carefree I was cultivating an appreciation of those two things. Although, when I was a little kid a local Chinese restaurant burned down in a fire and I was in a state of disbelief about it because I liked it so much. They used to give me a little paper umbrella anytime I went in and make me twirl it over my head. "Umbella" they said. I told my parents that I had learned how to say umbrella in Chinese.

This summary is not available. Please click here to view the post.

After a scary experience several weeks ago, I am finally beginning to recover some sort of sense of security and safety but its a process. I am ever vigilant/watchful; however, I don't want it to completely spoil some of the quirky charms of the area where I am living.

More to come.

brrrr....

According to weather.com, the local forecast says its fair and only 5 degrees but feels like minus 9 degrees. I just came inside. I think its bitterly cold, bright and sunny, and to say that it only feels like 9 degrees below zero is a generous estimate. But I parked far away on a hill and it was very windy when I left the car. I'm just gathering the courage to venture outside again...I want to see if my school's bookstore sells better socks than the ones I'm wearing.

When I was 8, I left New York state. I was young but loyal. I vowed to myself that New York would always be my home. But after living in other places, who knew I'd feel like such a transplanted westcoast/southerner when I finally came back?

I just read "Seeing Red," an article in the Jan. 16th Washington Post magazine about the outcome of the election. The author states: "The decision to vote for Bush instead seemed wrapped up in the age-old city vs. rural dichotomy, change vs. tradition, theory vs. horse sense, new vs. familiar." This is what I remember about the election outcomes: I was in a cafe with an old friend and his friend, and both of them were railing against the voters who had re-elected Bush. They did indeed seem to embody what this author criticizes. That is to say, they were making broad generalizations in saying that the people who had voted for Bush were obviously so very closed minded and ignorant, etc. etc. etc. I told them I had many friends and family members who had voted for Bush. They treated me to an chilly, unforgiving, piteous silence and then resumed their railing against those voters. They'd also both donated to Kerry's campaign, and I do think that maybe it was just the heat of the moment and a bit of post election bitterness on their part. But I'd also have to say that, in that state of mind and verbal expression, they certainly were not the sort of people I'd nominate to go out and recruit to influence the vote. As an aside, in that chilly silence, I couldn't help but remind myself that both of them were in much better straits financially than I was, and had a lot more free time on their hands. (They didn't seem much happier for it in light of their supposedly wasted efforts due to the election results however!) So in reading this Washington Post article, I could relate to this author's take on the situation, i.e. that maybe there were a lot of people who voted for Bush, not because they absolutely loved him, but simply because he was less threatening and more importantly, because he didn't represent this idea that the "elitist intellectuals" don't respect their opinions. I personally disagree with that stance and I did not vote along those lines, but in light of that post election get together with a friend and an acquaintance, I feel like I can understand it. I thought that it was a good article with interesting photos, and a compelling graphic of "red America."

After reading Long Quiet Highway, by Natalie Goldberg

it is also very important to follow it up by reading The Great Failure.

http://www.nataliegoldberg.com/

Link to Bandelier

http://www.nps.gov/band/

Spent Christmas in Santa Fe, New Mexico and visited the Santo Domingo and Cochiti pueblos and watched the dances on Christmas day. There were smiling young men dressed in red around the kiva at the Santo Domingo reservation. At first, they reminded me of Buddhist monks...perhaps because I've been rereading Long Quiet Highway by Natalie Goldberg.
www.nataliegoldberg.com

Also revisited Bandelier National Park, which I visited when I was eight (?) I think, and my father was living in Los Alamos.

The large sky made me feel very present and human.

view the pre raphealite painting, and then the photo....

http://members.fortunecity.com/cadieux3/preraph.html

(by artist Marie Chantal Cadieux)

Tried to find a depiction of "Temperance" from Christine de Pizan's Epistle of Othea online, but I couldn't. Instead...

http://images.google.com/imgres?imgurl=http://employees.oneonta.edu/farberas/arth/Images/ARTH_214images/Manuscripts/15_century/Chris_Front/BN_fr_848_pres.jpg&imgrefurl=http://home.infionline.net/~ddisse/christin.html&h=450&w=254&sz=50&tbnid=h5lBAQBwi40J:&tbnh=122&tbnw=69&start=1&prev=/images%3Fq%3DHector%2BOthea%26hl%3Den%26lr%3D

temperance in the history of ideas

http://etext.lib.virginia.edu/cgi-local/DHI/dhi.cgi?id=dv4-49

Went apartment hunting and walked into an apartment filled with painted glass windows (not in the windows) and photography. An old fashioned film projector and a large silver screen in lieu of a television set in the living room. Upon leaving, discovered I was in the apartment of a kid from last year's yoga/meditation class.

new life over in a studio apartment over a health food store on another street in a new city folic acid 800 mcg 3x day paba boron vitamin e vitamin a dosage not determined

quote of the moment

"Just accept the fact" she said "that you work better under pressure."

songs

The Stranger

http://www.leonardcohen.com/lc14_07.html

Hang on Little Tomato

http://www.alwaysontherun.net/martini.htm#hang

Pure

Way more than you ever really wanted to know.

http://www.websters-online-dictionary.org/definition/Pure

But kind of interesting.

Online looking up obscure things, like references to a guy who lost a battle to Joan of Arc and later got written into a Shakespeare play (Falstaff) and getting info about the representations of the cardinal virtues in medieval/Renaissance art. When I was younger I had a boyfriend who told me that he thought that in a previous life he was a Renaiisance painter, and I was kind of a pouty rich girl and he thought I was okay but he didn't really have such a crush on me. Or wait. Was that what he said or did he say something nicer? Maybe it was something Jungian. The youth had such refreshing honesty, and combined with such humility ;-) I'm giving a friend (friend turned boyfriend turned ex maybe turning friend again now) a ride tomorrow. I paid over $200 to fix my car today. I can't sleep; I think its just going to be one of those nights...

On the radio this morning:

"And on this day, back in 198-, millions of television viewers were tuning in to see who REALLY killed JR..."
Ah, Dallas. I vaguely remember adults congregating around the television set to watch that show and thinking it was boring. Not that I didn't like evening television. My personal favorites were The Great American Hero, Simon and Simon and Wonder Woman. Dallas was just boring, and the show I really hated was The Incredible Hulk. I think I liked the first two because their theme songs were awesome...and I thought Simon and Simon were cute. Wonder Woman was just the coolest. But I understand how watching television shows about filthy rich people who have unhappy lives is the opiate of the masses, probably. For a while, I too lived for a certain soap opera, or telenovela, when I was in Peru, living in a small town on the edge of the rainforest. "Sonadoras," the show was called. (Dreamers).

When Sonadoras was on (I think it came on around noon) everyone would crowd around the television set. Never have I been more mesmerized by a soap opera. I would tell my boyfriend and his family that I wasn't really an "engreida," no, but look at those girls on Sonadoras. Those were the real "engreidas!" I remember that his aunt was amused with me, and she'd laugh, but I'm not sure that they believed me. When I showed them photographs of my aunts wedding, they told me that we looked like movie stars, and wanted to know if the building where she got married was my house, and if that was where I lived. I'm sure my family would love to hear that they looked like movie stars but...

"In your country, do you have swimmies?" one of his young cousins asked me one day, as I was drinking water out of a liter bottle.
(She was referring to those things that kids wear on their arms to keep afloat when you learn to swim).
"Oh yes! In my country the children wear them, too." I said. She eyed my water bottle.
"Here, most families are too poor to buy swimmies. So they save those water bottles and the children hold onto them to keep afloat."
"Oh," I said.
"People from your country have so much money."
"I know."
"Why?" Por que?
"I don't know. Maybe because there are a lot of big companies in the United States."
"At school, I told them that I have an American girl staying at my house, and they didn't believe me."
I don't know what I said. I think that after that, I passed by them one day on the street, all the school girls in their uniforms. I said "Hi," to her and she smiled brightly and waved at me in front of all her friends.

I remember a Christmas parade, perhaps the nicest one I've ever attended. It was at nightfall. All of the school children made lanterns out of paper and burned candles inside of them. I was mesmerized by the sight of the children marching, the light of their glowing paper lanterns.

Inebriate Asylum

http://nysasylum.com/bia.htm

mistakes corrected; possible surrealistic changes

"antimal" for animal

"wounds" for woods

The day came to euthanise the cat, but she didn't come around until nightfall and so the appointment was cancelled. In the morning, another furry creature with black and gold markings showed up. It was not the same animal; it was stealthier and had a shorter tail. There was no wound on its chest. As soon as the door opened, the cat ran away.

Later, as she fed the wounded stray again, she looked over her shoulder. She thought she could see a shadow in the woods, among the dead leaves. "Is that your brother?" she asked as she set the bowl down. "Maybe I'm just seeing things." The shadow moved. It watched them furtively, with healthy eyes.

She thought
that maybe
she could have
a boyfriend
and a cat.
But the
"boyfriend"
candidate
never called.
The cat had
a cancerous
tumor in
its chest
which bled
all over the
bed sheet
all over the
newspaper
she spread
all over the
bedroom floor.

Only 27...

And yet so wise...After viewing an evite to a holiday party, I reflect: surprisingly, I'm rather social compared to many in my immediate family (at least at the moment!) But, perhaps I'm not naturally all that social compared to some people. Rather, I tend to make a friends who have a large talent at being social, and, they kindly invite me to parties and things. Then, I get to mooch off of their efforts and meet interesting people, etc. I owe them a debt of gratitude.

I have been spending too much time thinking about large and weighty questions at 2 a.m. From "little" things, such as stray cats who have to be euthanised, to slightly larger things such as personal relationships, and throw in a little bit of self psychologizing about "childhood memories" and then, onto to larger issues such as politics and the state of the world today (oh me me me, again!!) But, its difficult to write about these things in any sort of intrinsically artistic and intriguing way. How calmly I write this...

(how do I turn "I" into...something less "I" sounding...)

Printing

My printer is fantastic.

I'm printing away little copies of poems from a little chapbook/zine thing I bought back in college. I had to choose between a few poets to do a presentation for a class. I decided to scrap the famous writers and do one on a writer that is not well known and publishes independently and means something personal to me. That would be the first book of poetry I ever bought (that I remember) when I was 19, and it was not for a class. I bought it at a music store in Washington D.C., by a club called The Black Cat. Its called Transient Songs by Amber Gayle, and her twin sister Stacy Wakefield. They grew up on Mercer Island in Washington state. I grew up on Vashon Island. A friend of mine, who at the time lived in Seattle but had family in Virginia, was surprised when he saw the book. He said he knew Amber. Since I had a crush on him at the time I was like "Oh! Why not buy a book of her poetry!" Or, maybe he said I should buy it and so I did. (I could see myself doing something obedient like that at that time) . And plus I really missed Seattle. I was going to school at a conservative all women's college in Virginia. So that would have been back in 1996? About this time of year too.

Tomorrow, I have to go and take in a stray cat I was thinking of adopting to be euthanised (it has a malignant tumor). And I've probably gone and gotten myself into one of those crushes on difficult and complicated people...whatever. My printer has run out of ink. It makes an interesting effect on some of the photography ( a photograph of a girl's hand and long strands of blond hair...) Also its cool to see the stamp of Knust, the Dutch company that published the book, on the inside flap, peeking from underneath the edges of the pages.

4 poems copied and 2 to go. Gotta go get pizza and buy an ink cartridge.

I just overheard some guys talking about a book, The Da Vinci Code. One of them, who is extremely notorious for making large blanket statements concerning the intellectual inferiority of the people surrounding him, was saying its just not possible for "smart people" to like that book, its nothing if you've read Foucault's Pendelum, Blah Blah Blah. Yes, many English lit people think its an atrocious book, bestseller trash, bad writing, shows a poor understanding of the Knight's Templar, etc. etc. etc. (I think they mostly regurgitate book reviews they've read rather than formulating an original stance)

But last night, another English lit student was telling me about how his mother, who is Catholic was affected by that book. She looked at it, touched it.

"Its a book, mother," he said.

"I'm intrigued," she said.

"Its okay. Its not going to bite you."

"Well I don't know," she said.

"Whats wrong with it?"

"Its banned by the church," she said.

But after some hesistation, she went ahead and read it. Afterwards she went church. Her family teased her. "Did you go to confession?"

"No, I just thought it would be enough to pray," she said.

I'd like to see how often that happens with Foucaults Pendelum.

Which is really not the point, the point is, I'm more of a women's studies girl than a good ol' boy who constantly likes to police what is and is not smart or intellectual reading. I like hearing about the housewife who gets her viewpoint challenged. She interests me more.

Hello, sweet tool of procrastination

Yesterday I got in trouble for taking pictures of old, crumbling buildings. Apparently where I went, its not allowed unless you have special permission. I had to give a police officer my I.D., but they let me off with a warning and didn't confiscate my camera...

I'm going to start a tradition of going to diners on Halloween, because I went to one last night and it was very surreal. The diner I went to has a lot of mirrors, and so I was seeing reflections of people in various costumes (a grim reaper, people in white suits from a clockwork orange, a spotted animal with a long tail and a human head, others...) I was reading film theory and thinking "wow! this is really fascinating!" and feeling wired 'cause thats how I get when I drink lots of coffee.

The Imagined Galaxies of Ruth Stone on NPR

http://www.npr.org/templates/story/story.php?storyId=3600925

We washed their dishes!!!

the not quite
anoretic student
instructs on self:
eat sparingly so
that thou may
devote this day
to letters

Oh maybe I'll go as Aditi after all.

I found a friend who is sort of in the same boat as I am (not sure if she really wants to stay out too long, etc...)

But its too bad about the henna.

Little Miss

Tonight, I have the option of attending multiple Halloween festivities. There's the one being thrown by some students in the English dept (last year, one girl went as an "abstraction," and another girl went as a Freudian slip), the Anthropology people (they had one last year and it was huge and integrated, i.e. by other departments) and the Witches (new and intriguing). I even have another party I could've attended if I'd wanted to drive to Virginia...Its too much. I'm just going to stay home and study and watch a DVD. Little Miss Antisocial strikes again. ;-P
Anyways, the only store I know of that sells henna was sold out.

Maybe I'll make soup.

Things to put in soup:

allspice
ginger
garlic
bay leaves
miso
cinnamon stick

aditi? usha?

I wasn't paying any attention to the whole seasonal costume thing, but my roommate has been going crazy with her sewing machine and some gorgeous reddish material she bought from local large chain store. Then I remembered an outfit of similar material that a friend gave me over five years ago. The outfit is from India, and at the time I was going out with an Indian guy, but I wouldn't have worn it around him (I had a fear of being perceived as a culturally insensitive white girl). It is quite beautiful and elaborate, it even has little mirrors embedded in the intricate embroidery and I think I'm finally going to wear it. I've been reading a translation of a medieval French work (Christine de Pizan's Epistle of Othea) which in part talks about astrology and some pagan dieties (such as Aurora, the goddess of the dawn.) Red seems a good color to associate with the sun's rays or how they color the sky so I was thinking of going as Usha, the Hindu goddess of the dawn. Or else Aditi, the mother goddess, gave birth to twelve sons/astrological signs, and some sources seem to associate her with the sun (on the internet, anyways).

While I was searching, I stumbled across this girl's very amusing blog:

http://free-range.thwapped.com/

It captures the essence of highschool, and a little bit of that "highschool girl mean" ;-)

Lapidaries, herbals and bestiaries

A coughing girl rumages
through lozenges and tissues.
Oh no, I'm sitting next to
the sick girl. Others twist
away from slide show
depictions of the medieval
womb in a dark auditorium.

Outside the sun shines
brightly for the first time
in days; after chairing a
successful session he goes
home and drinks too much
and the participants' joy
at sinking their teeth into
an inexperienced student
validates their conviction
that she still doesn't know
quite as much as they do.

Applause from the next room
resembles the sound of rain
drops persistently beating
a white gloved hand as it
turns the pages of a rare book.

Lukewarm receptions are
reserved for the "independent
scholar" as opposed to
the people from actual
universities. Science as
rhetoric versus modern
notions of hard science.
Derrida has left us. Yes--
the presenters pace and
gesture as they dis-
play their passions:
Lapidaries. Herbals.
And bestiaries.

Ah, October

Its the month of colors.
Leaves of tissue paper.
When you feel like
you've got to dip
your nose into a
vat of chapstick.

You've gotten so sick
of sucking on cough drops
that you're desperate to find
any brand that's sugar free.

Ricola makes one.
Its got an echinacea and
green tea flavor.

Doesn't that sound healthy?

Others think that this is the season
for carameling apples and
painting faces. I think its
the month for sampling
as many different kinds
of immune-system boosting,
antioxidant-laden brands
of tea that you can get
your greedy little hands on.

Animus/Anima struggles

Animus/Anima struggles.
Examples #1 & #2.
(gender specific)

I. Girl approaches girl
in a bar. After idle chit-
chat, the first girl says
"Don't you want him?
You can admit it.
We ALL wanted him.
Even I wanted him.
I was identifying as
a lesbian at the time.
But if you don't,
then that's good."

II. The man who
blames his divorce on
his ex-wife's mother-
in-law communicates
this with an almost
reluctant admiration.

One of these days I'll figure out how to do that thing where you list people's websites, etc. on the sidebar....It has recently come to my attention that this person's blog is quite fascinating, especially the visual imagery:

http://agagreflex.blogspot.com/

Mine own is looking a wee bit disorganized. I think I need to pick a theme.

Cute Southern Terms...

"Tend to your own rat killing"

(admonishment when my sister and I fought)

"Boys and Heidi!"

(exclamation when something noteworthy occured)

"Give grandaddy some sugar"

(give your grandfather a kiss)

"sweet pea" "sugar plum" "dinkle dolls"

(terms of endearment)

I'm surely leaving out some of them...(?)

Nothing and I mean NOTHING is more old boy's network/bureaucratic than an entire workplace/community which allows a man to publicly indulge himself in a way that effects women adversely (however slightly it may seem to some people who foolishly think that it only counts if it culminates in some act of extreme violence) Other stuff is bad enough, too. And actually, I think that sometimes its the slow accumulation of detritus over the years is even worse. Via my own family and stepfamily I've witnessed/come into contact with the following bad habits: Southern style "chivalry" (and oppression of women), extreme fanatic devotion to religion, alcoholism and substance abuse, bi polar disorder, severe depression, suicide attempts. Thats not to exclude the many positives, but what the hell, you saw how I woke up. It hasn't been such a positive morning, yet! Before the screaming man woke me up, I was having a funny dream that I was somewhere in the south, riding the bus to highschool. I thought "Now I can view it from the perspective of someone who is 27."

Sad neighbor

This morning I woke to once again hear him screaming at his son's new mother. I was lying in my bed in a strange Indian style position, feeling like the lower part of my body was numb or like a large board was laid over me, and heard him screaming. I think its the psychic effect of his voice invading my bedroom and I resent it.

smoking & music & telepathy & such

I talked to my ex-boyfriend in Ithaca, who had called me about a week ago. Today, I was walking around on campus and noticing Jewish guys in dark suits carrying long pointy stalks of something (plants) and so I called and asked if he'd gotten mitzvah'd or whatever, and he had no idea what I was talking about (he's only part Jewish anyways). Then we found out we've been listening to the exact samealbum recently (by "Air"). He said that was weird. I said, yeah but not as weird as when we found out we'd seen the exact same softcore porn movie as teenagers on HBO. Ha ha. Or, the time when I told him about a song he never heard about, and then he ran into three different people in one night who were all singing it. Too bad he's already slept with one of my friends since we broke up (that is just not that attractive). Coincidentally he's quitting smoking, just as I'm starting the habit! Ididn't used to see how people could smoke a pack a day. But now, I can. However, I really think this is just a phase, for me. Anyways, its weird to think you and your ex have been listening to the same exact album...but I refuse to think that we have had the same exact EXPERIENCE of listening to it. Sometimes weird things like that just happen. But it means you can be better friends with people again. Once I saw a girl at a busstop who I had never seen before, but I just had a strong feeling knew a friend of mine I'd lost touch with. It was so strong, that I decided to act upon it, and I asked her if she knew her. And guess what? I was right! However, I never got in touch with my friend, because she didn't have the girl's phone #. She told me she knew that cafe where my friend worked and told me the name of it, but I either forgot or was too lazy to look it up.

I was gonna post something about Elisabetta Sirani, but...

"Lets talk about me." Discussion sections were successfully completed, and now its time to have a three day weekend...all for me me me! This is good. Because lately, I feel like my attitude is a combination of I sure wish I could kick your ass and ha ha! isn't life a grand joke. I need a lot of smoke. Either cigarettes (which I didn't used to buy but I bought a pack yesterday) or burning lots and lots of incense. I don't know why this is, but this smoke reminds me of the boyfriend I had in Peru. I went there 4 times. Occasionally, friends say "oh that sounds soooo romantic" and I say cynically, "yeah well, it wasn't as romantic as you think." But now, I feel, perhaps, it was romantic? Flying to the Amazon rainforest, communicating in another language, travelling around the Andes, staying in icy cold cheap hotel rooms, going out for Peruvian pizza...yes, it was, in fact, it was VERY romantic. Si, si, si, claro que si! Never blog when you've drunk spiced wine and have a paper about famous lovers due the next day. Maybe I just want to go back to Peru (in general). Peru, mi segunda hogar.
This is not a post about a wish to reunite with an ex, by the way. (Unless this ex is just Peru).

Old guys who think they're charismatic should get chakra healings and date women their own age.

when does school suck

when it breeds too much cleverness
when it ruins relationships
when we slander one another
when in place of compassion
we only
respect
(that means fear)
authority

Vashon Island

I'm looking for anything on the internet related to a poetry press on Vashon, for my poetry class.

Once I lived there. It was very woodsy. My mom was all into channeling and crystals and fairies and stuff.

Then I started hitting adolesence and getting a wee bit rebellious. And, then she got married and we moved to D.C. suburbs (Virginia) ultra Republican highschool hell. (Oh it was only hellish for a year or so...really...)

But anyways.

So far I've found "Crab Creek Review" and "Kota Press."

Vashon is an interesting place.

Yesterday my roommate and I went to see a band called Carbon Leaf play at a Celtic Festival in Bethlehem, PA. I really would've liked to have seen Mary Prankster in Lancaster. However I enjoyed Carbon Leaf because in concert they had a lot of energy. Plus, they're from Richmond (Virginia). Bethelehem is the other place that the Moravians (my ancestors) settled, besides Winston Salem, NC. I wore my Mrs. Hanes Moravian Cookies t-shirt. I also bought a pair of pointy red earring with Celtic symbols on them.

SCHOOL

A professor walks into
the lecture hall.
He tucks an arm
inside his jacket
(like Napoleon)
and gestures
flamboyantly
as he asks for
a show of hands

"How many of you are 17?
How many of you are 18?"

After a cool assessment
we get down to the text.

"You know what I like
about the girl in this
story? She's lost. Now
in my time...I've known
many women." Rustle,
rustle. Suddenly,
they're paying attention!

"Yes, I've known my share
of lost girls. And who knows.
I was just as lost as some
of them, perhaps.

When you're with
a woman
you think
you're going
to get

Mmmm hmmm...

But instead

you get

Uh uh...

What comes out?

Baggage. Guilt.
Problems with Daddy.

There's all kinds
of guilt, you know.

Catholic guilt.

Jewish guilt.

I know because
I've experienced
them all.
That's because
I have no soul."

(all nervously laugh)

"You know what I have
in place of a soul?
A fascination with women."

The students laugh
(nervously) again.

I get self-concious
because I'm sitting
right in his line
of vision.

"And I bet a lot of other
guys would say the same."

I uncross my legs
and zip up my jacket.
He sallies forth.

"Do you believe
in closure? Sometimes
closure is just a nice
idea. Sometimes your
heart is broken and
just keeps breaking."

And we're onto
the next topic.
The death
of one's mother.

Hooray for tenure.

If one believes in the idea that there is a "Universal Soul" ("very Emersonian!" another grad student, who came here from Kent State, commented when I told him this) then I think it could be possible to have mingled with some other soul or souls before incarnating. Which might explain why one might seem to have intimations about, or, simply be rather fascinated by, certain people. http://may4archive.org/bill_schroeder.shtml

Spill

I kind of like the song "Spill." It is by Mary Prankster.

These are the last lyrics:

Because you’re hotter
Than an August in El Paso
And you’re cooler
Than a January 5th

And you tie my silver tongue up
Like a lasso
And your smile shines like
The ribbon on a gift

http://www.maryprankster.com/lyrics_spill.html

Very Long Poem I Love In Its Entirety

This is just an excerpt. The rest can be found online.

And thus to Saadi said the muse;
Eat thou the bread which men refuse;
Flee from the goods which from thee flee;
Seek nothing; Fortune seeketh thee.
Nor mount, nor dive; all good things keep
The midway of the eternal deep;
Wish not to fill the isles with eyes
To fetch thee birds of paradise;
On thine orchard's edge belong
All the brass of plume and song;
Wise Ali's sunbright sayings pass
For proverbs in the market-place;
Through mountains bored by regal art
Toil whistles as he drives his cart.
Nor scour the seas, nor sift mankind,
A poet or a friend to find;
Behold, he watches at the door,
Behold his shadow on the floor.
Open innumerable doors,
The heaven where unveiled Allah pours
The flood of truth, the flood of good,
The seraph's and the cherub's food;
Those doors are men; the pariah kind
Admits thee to the perfect Mind.
Seek not beyond thy cottage wall
Redeemer that can yield thee all.
While thou sittest at thy door,
On the desert's yellow floor,
Listening to the gray-haired crones,
Foolish gossips, ancient drones,
—Saadi, see, they rise in stature
To the height of mighty nature,
And the secret stands revealed
Fraudulent Time in vain concealed,
That blessed gods in servile masks
Plied for thee thy household tasks.

"Saadi" by Ralph Waldo Emerson

School Days

Written in the early afternoon

Today, after lecture, a fellow T.A. came up to me and conveyed an unofficial message from someone in the department that I should not give the professor any contact information. Because apparently, in the past, at some point, he "stalked" some people. (Female T.A.s)

I'm getting fed up with this B.S.

Written in the evening

You want to know how it feels to keep being told that now you to have to work for a guy who has "a long history of sexual harrassment"? I'll tell you how it feels. It sucks. My feelings range from depression (gee, if he's so untrustworthy, why did they put me there???) to wanting to lob grapefruits at all the people telling me so (rage is preferable to feeling powerless. And then, the grapefruit tastes so much sweeter!) I'm really tired of being treated like the virgin on the edge of the volcano, about to be pushed. And now, I feel like avoiding my school. I'm really disenchanted with academia. Well I hope he's happy, because his past indiscretions are forcing me to go through a lot of extra stressful shit right now. GRATUITOUS GUILT TRIP. >:-(
Actually though, I will note, he hasn't said hardly a word to me.

Human beings are very sad.

Later

Came home, ate soup on the couch, felt MUCH better. RELAXED.

"I think our livingroom feels like a church."

My roommate says, "I love it when you drink wine."

Sort of feel the need to explain that last one, but I won't. Its bordering on tongue-in-cheek, thats all I want to say. That, and, I was no stranger to Fs in highschool!

(not) minimalist

Ahem. I am very intellectual. Want me to prove it? I own/have opened/watched these DVDs:

Almost Famous
Fellini's Roma
Fellini's Satyricon

And I own and have watched these still unopened DVDs:

Powaqqatsi
Koyaanisqatsi
Without Limits

Still waiting for 50 pages of PDF files to print... (feminist theory and ancient misogynistic texts mostly)

Come on Irene...

This posting is in regard to the links about Irene MacDonald (one of the children of Lewis Carroll's friend, a fellow author of children's books.) I wonder if anyone has noticed them. In the short history of this blog, "Lit Lover," the only comments that have come up were in response to posts about my (but lovely) damn cats. I should of called the thing "Cat Lover" instead of "Lit Lover."

In addition to being a model, "Princess" Irene MacDonald was a very talented young lady. Too bad her dad was a drunk. If he hadn't stumbled and hit his head after a night of hard drinking (after being expelled from the Church of England, the guy had an enormous family to support, so, I guess he had his reasons) while her mother was nervously yanking the snarls out of Irene's hair, she wouldn't have had to leave home and work as a maid in some rich old lady's house. Or have been seduced by some young cad (perhaps the old lady's son or nephew?) when she crept out to the garden one night to sniff a flower. The experience broke her heart, (and robbed her of her bride price) so she was destined to return home and live out the rest of her days as an old maid. (Which she did until she was forty). She might've never married, but then Cecil Brewer, the celebrated architect, came to a family function and found that he fancied her. Slowly, but surely, the successful Cecil got what he wanted. He even forgave her for her youthful indiscretion. It was really great, for a while. Then, one day, happy Mrs. Brewer overheard the bastard making love to some sweet young thing out in the garden...

How do I know? Well, a few facts I read in a book, but the rest of it I just know. From other sources!!

Here is another photograph Lewis Carroll took of her:

http://courses.ats.rochester.edu/zanzucchi/105E/Mac3.htm

What Flavour Am I?

http://quiz.ravenblack.net/flavour.pl

I realize that it is incorrect to assume that others' lives are all so easy compared to your own. I realize it may be somewhat egotistical. Yet, I think, at least once in his/her life....many a male/female has wondered...WHY DO THEY ALWAYS HAVE IT SO FREAKING EASY!!! Of course, one must be sensible...I realize, this is not quite the case. Even if previous experiences have colored my perceptions. The grass is not always greener. Ahem. NEVER. Plus, I live in America. Does this make sense?? Rose incense wafts across the keyboard. The other day the guy I T.A. for describe his first deflowering experience to a lecture hall full of freshmen. Its really a popular course. But if I accepted every extra student petitioning, I'd have at least 10 extra...and that REALLY would never do. He also told the class "Lost in Translation sucked." I bet he's just jealous of Bill Murray:-)

Irene MacDonald

It Won't Come Smooth

http://courses.ats.rochester.edu/zanzucchi/105E/Mac1.htm

Portrait

http://courses.ats.rochester.edu/zanzucchi/105E/Mac2.htm

Want to live in a Giant Milk Bottle?

http://www.roadsideamerica.com/tips/getAttraction.php3?tip_AttractionNo==1341

Want to live in a Giant Milk Bottle?

http://www.roadsideamerica.com/tips/getAttraction.php3?tip_AttractionNo==1341

Want to live in a Giant Milk Bottle?

http://www.roadsideamerica.com/tips/getAttraction.php3?tip_AttractionNo==1341

Good idea

I went to the bookstore but as soon as I got there, I couldn't go in. So instead, I took a nap in the car. My conclusion is: I am depressed.

Look. Stability in life is a nice thing. But when your parents (uh, parent and stepparent) are getting divorced, (yes even though I'm grown up it still bothers me) and your teaching assignment suddenly gets switched and everyone keeps "warning" you about the professor ("but he has it together since he quit drinking") and you don't have any other women to T.A. with, and then you have to teach a book all about suicide (which in this case, unfortunately, is dredging up some really unpleasant memories I'd rather not deal with at the moment) then I'm sorry but STABILITY is not quite happening here! I had a dream that I was supposed to run a marathon and people kept handing me things to put on the tables to give to the marathon runners, and I was so weighted down with stuff that I couldn't run it. So, my temporary solution is: moving around bedroom furniture. Well, that is better, I guess. For now! Feng Shui may be the answer. It seems like whenever I'm in school there is always some sort of conflict. I'm seriously tempted to become a massage therapist or ballroom dance instructor or something.

One more thing: I really think that ABSENT FATHERS should NOT FOOL THEMSELVES. I met the son of the guy who wrote We Were Soldiers Once And Young. A very creative kid. When I met him at a hippie-ish wedding in Virginia, he was dressed as a Care Bear. He doesn't have such a good relationship w/ his dad. My point is, success career wise and family wise may not always go hand in hand. However, I would really like to think that they can.

beer

Back to light-hearted topics.

Name 3 favorite beers

Saranac Caramel Porter (bottle)
Blue Moon Belgian White (bottle)
Hefeweizen with lemon (on tap)

Note that this is not the kind of beer you would normally find at your average fraternity beer drinking party (and I say this on purpose.) Once upon a time, I did have a few cool friends who, for various reasons, joined fraternities in college. However, (I'm going to stray from the "light-hearted topic" part for just a moment) the amount of people I know who had really messed up experiences at some of those parties (girls getting roofies slipped into drinks, etc) has affected my outlook. I hope none of my students waste their time chit chatting about frat parties when they really should be doing something more constructive (like, say, analyzing the effect of the male gaze in The Virgin Suicides.) Unless they can find a really good way to relate it to the book.

Describe some of your most formative beer drinking experiences

When I was two or three and visited some relatives in Michigan, my aunts gave me sips of their beer and told me it was champagne. "Can I have some more champagne?" Also, I was about the same age when my dad was at some point fixing the television (when we lived in New York). When he put his beer can down on the coffee table and I asked if I could drink some of it, he said "just a sip" and then both my parents turned their attention back to the television. The next time they turned around, they found I'd drained a sizeable portion of the can.

(At least, thats how I remember it!)

I also remember that I used to be totally grossed out by the name of one soda, called "Squirt." I thought that "squirt" meant the same thing as "spit." Years later, when I was 19 and went on a study abroad trip in Peru, I drank a kind of corn beer called chicha, which some of the people in a village offered me, and I thought it was pretty good. Then, with a delicious look of glee on her face, the professor told me that the traditional way of making chicha involved masticating the corn, spitting it into a pot, and allowing it to ferment for several days. After seeing the look on my face, she reassured me that it probably wasn't still made that way in this instance!!

I just tried to sign in by using my Blackboard ID and password. Hah. School habits. These exciting things happened today (oh lovely, free Friday):

1) The internet came to the apartment! (but, am I really that excited?)
2) Continued watching "Dead Like Me" (a Showtime series my roommate began renting on DVD.)
Espisode 3, "Curious George" was particularly poignant.
3) Went shopping at the mall during tax free week, which was actually pretty fun. But then I had a stupid, unpleasant interaction with a group of young men. They greatly annoyed me.

So I decided to write a poem about it.

"Gorgeous"

Maybe she shouldn't have taken off her jacket
Hey gorgeous
she shouldn't have
put on make-up, or
worn those earrings
Aw you're not fuckin' gorgeous
or put up her hair,
or walked so tall
but she did, so
they yell
they laugh
as she zips up her jacket.

I took some creative license with it. Its not always the case when I write in the third person, but in this instance, "she" was based on me. However I didn't wear make-up. I'm just reiterating stereotypical things people say about women who attract unwanted attention. I also didn't actually zip up my jacket until I'd walked to 2 or 3 stores, still thinking about it and not feeling any better. It probably wouldn't have bothered me so much, but it wasn't just that, but other things were on my mind, too. Doesn't it suck when other things on your mind are bothering you and as a result some otherwise insignificant thing throws you!!! Punks. >:-P