You Must Take Your Chance

Post-It Note Tuesday #10

2010-06-01T20:43:00.000-04:00

I was cleaning off the counter

this morning

wondering what I might do

for Post-Note Tuesday

when

was confronted with this

and

realized

Hart Crane (1899-1932)

2010-05-30T18:09:00.039-04:00

A recent post in which I include a dictionary definition that features the poet Hart Crane, reignited in me a desire to go back and read more of his poetry.

Mr. Crane was considered one of the Modernist Poets--the poets who broke all the heretofore existing poetry "rules" more than any other preceding poetry movement. The Modernists began-ish with the likes of Walt Whitman & Emily Dickinson and ended-ish with the likes of Anne Carson & Sherman Alexie. The Modernist Movement existed from approximately the late-nineteenth century through the mid-twentieth. The Modernists were brave and interesting and many will argue "rather difficult to understand". Of that group, you will find T. S. Eliot and Ezra Pound at the helm.

Hart Crane was in many ways no different. He was a true Modernist who relied heavily upon intricate metaphors and obscure historical references to express important ideas. The Modernists were not known for reaching the "everyday" man and required you to "work" at their poetry. I'm assuming at this point, I have lost many of you! Which in our non-appreciation-of poetry-yet-incredibly-poetic-world-we-live-in is simply a reality. I'm the epitome of a non-salesman, so no sales pitch here. Go if you must. But if you're even vaguely interested and if my comment about our poetic-world struck a chord, please read on ........

Hart Crane wrote an overall aesthetic of "celebrating crucifixion and resurrection, horror or squalor out of which suddenly radiate hope and light." (1) He wrote like a Modernist, acknowledging poetically the bad-ness of the world and yet, in his case, expressing poetically the possibility-ness of it all. It is this quality in his writing that makes me love him.

"He takes unusual words, combines them in an unusual way, and forms them into unexpected rhythms, as if his technique as well as his subject matter were intended to expand the boundaries of consciousness. When he was reproved for the difficulty of his work, Crane explained, in a 1926 letter to Harriet Monroe, the editor of Poetry magazine, that his object was to find a logic of metaphor that would not be the logic of rational thought. This pursuit of unconscious interconnections of "emotional dynamics" working through abbreviated thoughts is different from the explained images of the Metaphysical poets; it works by sudden forced conjunctions that find their justification at deeper levels of meaning. Crane has as much complexity as any modern poet, but largely self-taught, he does not present himself as difficult and allusive; rather, his powerful speech and rhythms claim the instant response that his intricate images would seem to delay." (2)

Don't feel bad if you had to read that twice. I think I've read it seven times at this point. In any case, his work! Here's some:

*****

BLACK TAMBOURINE

The interests of a black man in a cellar
Mark tardy judgement on the world's closed door.
Gnats toss in the shadow of a bottle,
And a roach spans a crevice in the floor.

Aesop, driven to pondering, found
Heaven with the tortoise and the hare;
Fox brush and sow ear top his grave
And mingling incantations on the air.

The black man, forlorn in the cellar,
Wanders in some mid-kingdom, dark, that lies,
Between his tambourine, stuck on the wall,
And, in Africa, a carcass quick with flies.
--Hart Crane (1926)

Crane explains, in this piece, "The word 'mid-kingdom' is perhaps the key word to what ideas there are in it. The poem is a description and bundle of insinuations, suggestions bearing out the negro's place somewhere between man and beast." (3)

This is me, adding food for thought: this was published in 1926. Not 2010. Have things changed that much? Honestly now?? Changed??? Simply, are we still racists?

*****

In my opinion this next poem is breathtaking in its "simple complexity", and again, for its relevance to today. Published the same year as Black Tambourine, Crane writes about Chaplinesque, ".....that I like the poem as much as anything I have done." (4) He was a big fan of Charlie Chaplin and includes numerous references to Chaplin's The Kid in this poem--be sure to notice them. Don't forget to notice as well, how the words sound/feel .....something all the great poets are known for. Read it once, maybe, for meaning, and another time for sound.

CHAPLINESQUE

We make our meek adjustments,
Contented with such random consolations
As the wind deposits
In slithered and too ample pockets.

For we can still love the world, who find
A famished kitten on the step, and know
Recesses for it from the fury of the street,
Or warm torn elbow coverts.

We will sidestep, and to the final smirk
Dally the doom of that inevitable thumb
That slowly chafes its puckered index finger toward us,
Facing the dull squint with what innocence
And what surprise!

And yet those fine collapses are not lies
More than the pirouettes of any pliant cane;
Our obsequies (5) are, in a way, no enterprise.
We can evade you, and all else but the heart;
What blame to us if the heart (6) live on.

The game enforces smirks; but we have seen
The moon in lonely alleys make
A grail of laughter of an empty ash can,
And through all sound of gaiety and quest
Have heard a kitten in the wilderness.
--Hart Crane (1926)

*****

And finally, this one, quite coincidentally again published in 1926, that is simply ________ (fill-in the blank with a "good" word!). Think about what it might mean to you .......don't worry at all about what it meant to him. That simple rule is really the best way to read poetry.

REPOSE OF RIVERS

The willows carried a slow sound,
A sarabande (7) the wind mowed on the mead.
I could never remember
That seething, steady leveling of the marshes
Till age had brought me to the sea.

Flags, weeds. And remembrance of steep alcoves
Where cypresses shared the noon's
Tyranny; they drew me into hades (8) almost.
And mammoth turtles climbing sulphur dreams
Yielded, while sun-silt rippled them
Asunder . . .

How much I would have bartered! the black gorge
And all the singular nestings in the hills
Where beavers learn stitch and tooth.
The pond I entered once and quickly fled--
I remember now its singing willow rim.

And finally, in that memory all things nurse;
After the city that I finally passed
With scalding unguents (9) spread and smoking darts
The monsoon cut across the delta
At gulf gates . . . There, beyond the dykes
I heard wind flaking sapphire, like this summer,
And willows could not hold more steady sound.
--Hart Crane (1926)

Now if those words could not be more relevant to today as we belabor to stuff golf balls and tire remnants into a hole on the ocean floor (has anyone thought about that "pollution" btw? millions of golf balls & pieces of tires?? in the ocean???) then I shall eat this blog!

Thank-you for your patience readers. This was a long one.

*****

PS--the modernist poets usually require the most footnotes!

(1) and (2) Ramazani, Jahan; Ellmann, Richard; O'Clair, Robert, editors. The Norton Anthology of Modern and Contemporary Poetry "Volume 1 Modern Poetry". Third Edition. W. W. Norton & Company, Inc.: 2003. Print. Page 605.
(3) and (4) Ramazani, Jahan; Ellmann, Richard; O'Clair, Robert, editors. The Norton Anthology of Modern and Contemporary Poetry "Volume 1 Modern Poetry". Third Edition. W. W. Norton & Company, Inc.: 2003. Print. Page 607.
(5) ob.se. quy n. pl. ob.se.quies A funeral rite or ceremony. Often used in the plural.
(6) According to Crane, a deliberate pun on his first name.
(7) sar.a.bande n. A stately court dance from the 17th and 18th centuries.
(8) Had.es pr. n. The underworld of Greek mythology; Hell.
(9) unguent(s) n. Ointment(s)

PPS--Here's a fascinating little Hart Crane factoid ......his dad was the candy manufacturer who invented Life Savers!!!! (Can you imagine how a self-made business tycoon and a sensitive poet son must have gotten along? Am guessing it wasn't smooth sailing .......)

WEIRD!! Something else! (I wonder if I'm the only one who's ever put this together? .....I just put it together now! ......probably not but still!) Prepare yourself. This is in the category of wildly speculative & horrifyingly juicy! And incredibly p-o-e-t-i-c.

Hart was thirty-two when he jumped off a ship in the Caribbean Sea. It's generally agreed upon that he committed suicide yet in the above footnotes, see The Norton Anthology only make it page 606, it says this!!!! " .....he went on deck and jumped into the Caribbean Sea. Accounts differ (cue Twilight Zone music ...now!) as to whether or not he tried to catch the life preserver (read: LIFE SAVER!!!!!) that was thrown to him."

I shouldn't be making so much fun. Have to make sure I get credit for making amazing connection, somehow ..........oh! Did I say that out loud?

*****

Hart Crane biography--Poets.org
Hart Crane biography--The Poetry Foundation

Black Humor

2010-05-22T23:18:00.008-04:00

This week's cartoons are SO funny .......I'm gonna cry my eyeballs out :'-(

*****

And finally, the ~~best~~ worst for last:

Chris Brogan

2010-05-21T12:07:00.004-04:00

(this post first started out as a follow-up comment to yesterday's post, "Taking Chances", but it was becoming the longest comment in history so it became today's post)

*****

Ummm people!! Mr. Chris Brogan just COMMENTED ON MY BLOG!!!!!!

Ok normally when I quote someone or post their link I am extremely careful to, first, ask their permission. But frankly Chris gets 10,000 emails a day. No, here's a better way to illustrate for those of you who don't know him (although many of you do, obviously)--Chris has 137,487 followers on Twitter--to my 35.

Needless to say he's rather a rock-star in social media and my measly attempt to ask his permission would have fallen through the proverbial crack. I thought. To be honest, I didn't even think about contacting him. I simply credited him.

So an hour ago when I realized he had commented on "Taking Chances" in which I post his quote, I actually panicked! I thought the Chris Brogan Machine must have somehow picked up my blog in search engine fashion and his "comment" was going to be a computer form letter demanding I retract my post until I received his formal permission to post it!!!

(I sound a little paranoid I admit, but remember, I have Blogger breathing down my neck like a scary monster over that one post about Steve in which they 1) won't tell me what it is they're freaking out over and 2) have it in "post jail", won't allow me to post it, until I fix the unknown "it"!!) (So ha ha Blogger! I'm getting back at you by badmouthing you to Chris Brogan!!!)

I've heard from everyone who knows or has met Chris, how incredibly nice he is. But to my ears it was kinda like telling me how nice Barack Obama is ...you know? Of course he's nice! It's his job. Er, one of them.

But now I know (if you haven't yet, go read his comment to me in "Taking Chances"). Chris, you really ARE nice! I didn't even thank-you in my post cuz it didn't occur to me that you would actually read it. So let me take this opportunity to thank-you. I have learned a great deal from you. You tweet more than anyone of the 16 I follow (ok! so I'm still a little tweetie newbie!!) and I don't read every single one of your tweets, but let me say, I read most and you are unfailingly positive and helpful and you manage to reach out to so many people in a very, very constructive way. You are an inspiration. And that is why I follow you.

And now, particularly, I think you're the bomb!

*****

Check-out Chris's website: Chris Brogan--Community and Social Media

Follow Chris on Twitter (read in sing-song voice ....."you can be number 137,488 ....."): Chris Brogan on Twitter

Buy Chris's books: Social Media 101 and Trust Agents--co-authored with Julien Smith

PS--Chris garnered 11 more followers on Twitter in the one hour it took me to write this post.

Taking Chances

2010-05-20T23:38:00.007-04:00

Ok ....so I can't elaborate (unfortunately) but I took a chance today. Not a giant one. But one that kept me up half the night last night and made me pick at my breakfast instead of wolfing it down (like usual) this morning.

My Facebook friends will be bored since I posted this on Facebook earlier today, but considering my angst about the chance I took, it seemed like a little gift when I received this quote in the form of a Tweet this morning--it totally helped me get through my "chance". Sorry for redundancy Facebook friends.

Readers, meet Mr. Chris Brogan, the total guru and man's man of social media ......Chris Brogan on Twitter

PS--and I am a leader. That I do know.

Yay CSA!

2010-05-19T22:42:00.014-04:00

Tomorrow begins another season of my CSA subscription to Mattawoman Creek Farms.

What's a "CSA" and what's a "Mattawoman"?

Rewind to Spring 2009 when I'm having my bi-weekly adjustment by most fabulous chiropractor, Dr. Mark Haynes, when he mentions to me "something something something CSA Subscription something something". Naturally I ask, "What's a CSA?"

Now Dr. Mark and his also chiropractor wife, Dr. Celeste McLean, should be the poster-couple for two of the healthiest-looking people on the planet. I am totally not exaggerating here--any of you who know them will positively second my opinion. I mean they are gorgeous. Have you ever noticed that? Super healthy=Super gorgeous?? Every time. In a nutshell, they make their own yogurt and "juice" everything in sight. Need I say more? Yes! I feel strongly compelled, after shallow-sounding gorgeous remarks, to say that that they are ALSO two of the nicest, kindest, peaceful, happy, and extremely professional people I'm lucky enough to know.

I will say more about Dr. Mark and Dr. Celeste in future posts--I've included them in my cast of characters--they both, especially Dr. Mark, have been a huge influence on my lifestyle and my attitude about good health ...of which I have a long way to go .....but still ......here! check them out: Coastal Chiropractic, Norfolk and Virginia Beach, VA

Anyway, Dr. Mark explains that CSA stands for Community Supported Agriculture and quite often is shorthand for a "subscription" during the growing season (approx. May thru Sept) to a weekly infusion of fresh, locally-grown, organic (in most cases), delicious, seasonal produce from a local farmer. So I was lucky and was able to receive a subscription last spring (they typically fill up fast) and Thing One, Thing Two, & I ate fresh veggies & fruit 'til they were flying out of our ears, all summer! I was grateful to Dr. Mark for tipping me off and to my new favorite organic farmers Rick & Janice of Mattawoman Creek Farms.

This year I was first in line for a subscription. My friend MEC (hi MEC!) and I are actually sharing a subscription this year because I wasn't joking about the veggies. They were flying everywhere. Overflowing everything. My refrigerator could barely close and it pains me greatly to admit that I had to throw some of it away because we couldn't eat it fast enough :-( So I'm hoping the sharing-plan works better with my little, not-so-little family.

Our pick-up day is every Thursday in the Shorebreak Pizza parking lot from 4:00-6:00: just find the big, white refrigerated truck, pull up next to it, tell the nice man (who is sometimes Farmer Rick, but is usually someone else who I think works on the farm?) who's sitting on the tailgate, usually reading a book, whether you have a standard or large-sized box, sign your initials next to your name, say a few nice things to the man while he gets your box out of the truck (since you have a "thing" for farmers who read), tell him "thank-you, see you next week!", put your veggies/fruit in the cooler you've fabulously remembered to bring along (not necessary, but nice), and get your a** home cuz kale soup is waiting to be made!!!!!

Thing One and Thing Two were indeed subjected to kale soup last year. To their credit, they both tried it without much arm-twisting but even I had to admit, I need to tweak that recipe. There is an art to southern-cooking and I need some art classes!

Oh, and I have NO idea what a Mattawoman is.

*****

OMG! Even I'm not this crazy: Back Away from the Bok Choy, Ma'am! (and btw MEC, we are getting bok choy in the box tomorrow!)

It's Been Real Lee Hall, Room 740

2010-05-14T23:29:00.005-04:00

Mom ....really?

Thing One is home after his freshman year at college. I remember last summer when it finally hit me that he was leaving, I spent four days in a depressed fog feeling devastated and crushed at the prospect of life without him.  Ridiculous considering that theoretically I'd known he was "leaving" for months. But the instinct to parent is a "gathering-in" instinct, not a "pushing-away" instinct. I privately prepared for the worst when we left him at school in August.

It turned out that my big melt-down was those four days in the summer. Saying our final good-byes was a breeze because it was a long, tedious, very hot day moving him in and we were all rather sick of each other by the end of it.  Here's to exhaustion usurping emotion!

I will say that Ex played a very large role in the tedium of that day, so when it came time this week to cross the state to bring Thing One home for the summer, I expertly appealed to Ex's workaholic-ness which worked like a charm. He stayed home and I went to Blacksburg.

Moving Thing One out was still exhausting, but without Ex's anxiety and controlling nature, it was a calm exhaustion--one that makes room for emotion. I had a moment to contemplate what a difference 9 months makes: Thing One has lots of friends. Thing One is happy here. Thing One is looking forward to returning in the fall. Thing One has grown-up a little bit.

I say out loud, "I wish I'd known last summer what I know now".  I think inwardly that the knowledge would have saved me a lot of grief.

But then I realize, maybe not? The kind of knowledge that saves grief is an earned thing. I think about my own journey this past 9 months: Thing Two and I have created a nice routine sans Thing One. I started this blog. I am officially seeking a writing job. I have grown-up a little bit too.

Then I laugh when I suddenly focus on the checklist taped to Thing One's dorm-room door which I'm leaning on in my reverie ......it's the official checking-out checklist for Lee Hall which includes all the standard items:

1. Remove all personal belongings

2. Sweep and mop floor

3. Clean sink area

4. Close windows and blinds

5. Turn in key to R.A.

and written in blue highlighter at the bottom ...

6. Take a shit!

Thing One says it wasn't him that wrote it.

*****

Don't EVEN ask how we got this picture!

Someone Get This Girl A Writing Job! Wednesday

2010-05-13T12:47:00.029-04:00

Except it's Thursday--I know! But I was BUSY yesterday (shall blog on extricating freshman-boy out of dorm-room tomorrow).

"Someone Get This Girl A Writing Job!" is going to become a regular feature on You Must Take Your Chance (apparently the home of extremely long, cumbersome titles), and I like the alliteration of Writing and Wednesday so I'm aiming for Wednesday's. If "life" sticks its nosy head into Wednesday however it may appear on another day such as today's inaugural edition.

          alliteration n.  The repetition of the same sounds, usu. consonants,
          esp. at the beginning of words, as in "on scrolls of silver snowy sentences"
          (Hart Crane).

So obviously "someone" is "me", and me has to get a writing job because that's what I love to do. That's what I'm good at. That's the kind of people I want to hang-out (work) with. And that's the way I want to spend my time while I'm getting money thrown at me as I do it!

It's my dream.

It took me a long time to realize my dream. I always envied my friends who knew what they wanted right out of the blocks at the Here's The Rest Of Your Life race immediately following high-school graduation. I rather floated through college, unfocused and unmotivated.  It was sad-ish, but I just couldn't conjure my dream out of my life at that time (no matter how many beers I had!). Don't feel sorry for me--I loved Washington State University and I left Pullman with a degree in Political Science.  My years at WSU were not a waste .......

......still it wasn't until my mid-thirties when my dream finally came a-knockin'. When I opened the door it took me a little while to recognize it, but when I did, I welcomed it with open arms and have been "entertaining" it ever since. Yay! But now I'm almost forty-nine!! Time to W-R-I-T-E!!!!!! My future-self is waiting.

Almost as a gift, I've recently stumbled upon a supremely well-written, supremely inspirational, supremely "human" blog; yes about writing, but more about life. I asked Julie Roads of "Writing Roads" for her permission to reference her today and to link to one of her recent posts. It offers a profound perspective. Thank-you Julie for graciously sharing and for introducing us to our future-selves: Do Unto Yourself, Would'ja? A Lesson In Decision Making

*****

I plan to document my progress in the job-hunt on "Someone Get This Girl A Writing Job!" It could arguably be more interesting/motivating for me than for you. If you choose to skip it each week, I won't blame you. But if you've been "entertaining" a dream for far too long too ......why don't you join me?? We can cheer each other on. We can push each other when we get tired. And we can remind one another when the dream (as it will) becomes (momentarily) elusive. If you want to take this journey with me, write and tell me your story, ok?

MY GOALS FOR NEXT WEEK

1. Begin gathering and writing "samples" for Writing Portfolio--aim for 20 samples by the end of the month.

2. Tweak and refine resume to have it ready at a moment's notice--keep it to one-page and accompany it with well-written, relevant, memorable cover letters.

3. Contact all writing "persons" I know and tell them I'm pursuing a writing position--"Have any ideas?"

*****

I find inspiration every day at Writing Roads ....thank-you again Julie! You're the best!!

Post-It Note Tuesday #9

2010-05-11T15:10:00.000-04:00

PS--how many moments fit into an hour and a half??

Poetry Girl Sunday #9

2010-05-09T09:30:00.006-04:00

This post is dedicated to my own mother--Virginia, a.k.a. "Ginny"

Of all the lovely poems about mothers, this is perhaps, my most cherished. It was written by May Sarton to her mother, near the end of May's life. It becomes more moving with each reading. Happy Mother's Day sweet creators.

*****

For My Mother
     August 3, 1992

Once more
I summon you
Out of the past
With poignant love,
You who nourished the poet
And the lover.
I see your gray eyes
Looking out to sea
In those Rockport summers,
Keeping a distance
Within the closeness
Which was never intrusive
Opening out
Into the world.
And what I remember
Is how we laughed
Till we cried
Swept into merriment
Especially when times were hard.
And what I remember
Is how you never stopped creating
And how people sent me
Dresses you had designed
With rich embroidery
In brilliant colors
Because they could not bear
To give them away
Or cast them aside.
I summon you now
Not to think of
The ceaseless battle
With pain and ill-health,
The frailty and the anguish.
No, today I remember
The creator,
The lion-hearted.

                    May Sarton
                    1912-1995

*****

May Sarton biography--POETS.org

May Sarton biography--The Poetry Foundation

Cartoon Saturday #7

2010-05-08T09:19:00.006-04:00

Woo-hoo! Cartoon Saturday is when I get to showcase (and I'm completely unbiased)(*wink*) mostly-visual-opinions (cartoons!) on what's happening in the world. I personally think political cartoonists are geniuses and I totally wish I was one--except I'm not. So I'm happily content with perusing thousands (ok, millions) of political cartoons every week to bring you the cream of the crop.

PS--don't laugh too much, er, more realistically perhaps, don't get too depressed!

*****

In no particular order (cuz I'm too tired to fuss with it) ........and the captions in italics are by me this time.

My regular readers know I never miss an opportunity to bash the P-monster

Cuz I would say Bill Maher too ....although Conan's a close second

Real Time With Bill Maher

Friday night's at 10 PM on HBO

i KNEW we were neanderthals

Here's to ineptness!

No ....after YOU

See? P-monster provides never-ending laughs

(Really? Cuz I'm not laughing)

Whose on first?

to worser ......

Thank-you for letting me become a U.S. citizen

while you were being distracted about walls or some such,

to keep out those pesky, fruit-picking Mexicans!

Ok then, can we get 'sane' if we say 'insane'?

Wait ...come back! No ...let me catch-up. No .....just wait!

The List Version

2010-05-06T23:21:00.013-04:00

Ok I know I've been vague about my blog-absence. As a writer I cringe at this vagueness. So the ~~stickler~~ soon-to-be-a-professional-writer-hopefully part of me has made a "list version" of yesterday's I'm Back post to assuage my writer's-guilt because there's almost no writer's-crime worse than vagueness.

But this is a BLOG and "I Blog With Integrity"! (see below, right)  And most of my ~~excuses~~ reasons! for not blogging involves other people/things who/which ........maybe I shouldn't write about? Herein lies the vagueness.

My solution is a list with special notations where details would not be integrity-less.

Here goes.  "So I know. I have been absent." (beginning of yesterday's post) because:

1) I began doubting my focus on You Must Take Your Chance--if you ask me, recipes and cleaning tips don't fit well into the taking-chances department.  I became disappointed in myself. But friend MEC (hi MEC!) recently pointed out that she likes following blogs in which one day is profound and the next day is a pronounced un-profound. Which is a very freeing notion for me because, seriously folks, I am a Gemini and a truer-Gemini than moi cannot exist.  I am all over the place in the emotion and intelligence (What? Star signs don't dictate intelligence .........? Are you sure??) departments. You've probably noticed this if you've been following this blog--some posts are hilarious (in my not-humble opinion) and some are so friggin' deadly serious you all are afraid to comment in case the deadliness is contagious through comment-leaving.

PS--btw that is a distinct trend I've noticed. Serious posts beget far fewer comments than lighthearted posts. Which is completely ok. For me too, it's easier to comment on silly stuff.

So my focus may seem out-of-focus at times. But I promise I will never forget that I'm writing about taking chances, ok?

2) I think I got quite literally depressed about the earthquake that struck Haiti. However one of my best posts came out of that tragedy (omg, did I just write that? Please re-read, fighting off all messages from your brain screaming "INSENSITIVE!" "CRASS!!" SMALL MINDED!!!" SELF-ABSORBED!!!!" I don't mean to sound like I benefited from Haiti's anguish at all), and/but it's one of my favorite posts.

Haiti-to-90999

3) My friend died.

dear kathleen
Heartbroken Cartoon Saturday

4) I broke-up with boyfriend Steve. Who I still love. There! I said it!!

Dumb Blogger keeps removing this post due to copyright infringement issue. I have to guess at what they're offended by--then I fix--then they keep having cow over said "issue". If they would only tell me exactly what they're having a coronary over I would gladly oblige. Look for link to this post in the future if Blogger & I can ever get on the same page. (darn it! ....it's a good post too)

5) Ex and I continue to be co-dependent and dysfunctional (Alisa--notice how I include myself in this diagnosis?). So I am in the process of re-defining relationship with Ex because we do have Thing One & Thing Two together and we were married twenty years and (as I've told many of my friends) even though I'm nauseous over how many roses are coming up in his life, I don't exactly wish him death either. But it's difficult to change your relationship with someone. The "someone" usually doesn't like it. (The Dance of Anger, anyone? great book on this subject. should read if you have any relationships)

He's loves to "confide" in me occasionally, certain aspects of his love-life. Which is simultaneously gross and front-row-seat-at-a-train-wreck--ish. I can't help but be rapt over the second aspect. The first aspect I could live without. But therapist has convinced me that neither aspect is good for me. Ohhh .....if only I didn't Blog With Integrity .......the stories I could tell ........

6) Certain extremely close family members (as in parents)(as in both) have been diagnosed with several, separate, serious medical conditions and have undergone serious procedures these past few months. Despite this, they are strong and independent and have not needed any help from me. And despite this, I am sad.

7) The number one you-must-take-your-chance item facing me is .........finding myself a full-time job that is (hopefully) rewarding and gives me a regular stream of wheelbarrows full of self-respect. Oh and a "giving back to the world somehow" quality would be cool too. This item scares the living merde out of me. (thanks Delana! you made me think about merde today!!)(oh and sorry, all, for grossness of next-to-last statement) Yep this one is my super scary monster you must take your chance challenge. I'm making it sound funny, but I'm not laughing at all .....

My current part-time job at an accounting firm (in which I am simply an administrative assistant but which has gotten me through the past 3 years beautifully) is a great job. But there is no full-time position available and plus a writer in an accounting firm is rather a square peg ........I need to get seriously job searching. Now. And I need this blog to blog about it. And my boss reads my blog (well he knows about it anyway ....). If you haven't added 2+2 yet, let me break it down another way: Me looking for another job + Boss reading about said job search=Uncomfortable atmosphere at work. Or =Me-no-even-part-time-job-anymore.

All is well though. I've recently spoken to fabulous boss (hi Pat!) about my need to find a full-time position that is both professionally and financially rewarding. And he completely understands. So now I can agonize about it here all I want! I'll bet you can't wait .....

8) I've gained twenty pounds over the past four years. Am particularly noticing this "difference" the closer I get to almost-19 & 17-years-ago-pregnancy weight. WTF!!!!!!!!!!

Don't ask me how this affected my blog writing. But it did.

9) Experienced Thing-One's first heartbreak with him. I never realized how heartbreaking it is when your child is heartbroken.

Honestly, this seriously set me back. Of course I won't blog about it (any more than this). Thing One is my most loyal reader. (hi Thing One!) Btw, isn't that dear of him?

10) Did I mention I lost faith in myself? I just ......did. Despite my frequent ditzi-ness, I'm also kinda anal and perfectionistic and decidedly not ditzi. And .....I AM A WRITER. As such this blog is that seed I'm nurturing. My standards for my craft are high yet I'm the first to say I'm not "there" yet in the craft. I've got much to learn and skills to hone.

So please forgive the occasional "dumb", "less than inspiring", "huh?" post. And forgive my occasional "absences". I know my Gemini-self well--both will happen occasionally. Please have faith in me when I've apparently lost faith. I will eventually find it again. I will always come back.

Oh duh! 11) I work in an ACCOUNTING FIRM and it was TAX SEASON!

Thank-you! my dear reader-friends for hanging with me.

I'm Back

2010-05-05T17:59:00.002-04:00

Hi y'all! (ummm, no, I haven't acquired a southern accent in my absence ......I'm just trying to set a friendly tone and nothing like a happy 'hi y'all!' for that)

Plus in an email I wrote earlier today, I threw-in a "y'all" and it made me feel good. (Perhaps I should acquire a southern accent?)

So I know.  I have been absent. I had lunch with a close friend today (hi Patricia!) and when the subject rolled around to my blog, or more precisely the lack of it, Patricia announced that the the last post I'd written was March 7th. Which shocked me that she knew the date so precisely off the top of her head.

I'll bet you're also thinking I was shocked to realize it's been nearly two months since my last post. But I'm not.  You can't write a blog and then not write a blog and be shocked by it's absence. It's a bit like losing a baby .......and then wondering two months later ........where's the baby?

So I have 5,000 ~~excuses~~ reasons why I have bailed on You Must Take Your Chance but for simplicity's sake let's just distill it down to one--I've been in no shape to take a chance for awhile.  Not to worry. Nothing earth-shattering has happened to me the likes of which haven't been happening to you either. Just life. And my need--as I mentioned in my last post on March 7th, to hiberate (which was a great analogy in March when it was still bitterly cold, but on this balmy day in May isn't working for me) so let's just say my need--to be quiet for awhile.

My dictionary defines chrysalis as "2. A protected stage of development" (after "1. A pupa, esp. of a butterfly, enclosed in a firm case or cocoon." which is not where I'm going here, although the butterfly metaphor is a lovely one .....perhaps one day?)

No, I'm not assuming I'm emerging as a butterfly, but this post is assuming that I am emerging, evolved somehow. I feel the words (wings?) waking up inside me, ready to stretch and feel the sun.

It feels good to be back ya'll ...... I've missed you.

The Weary Kind

2010-03-07T18:27:00.010-05:00

Oh my poor bloggy blog! And readers, let me first fling open the door and sweep away the cobwebs before you come in ......

For reasons, some of them I understand and some of them I don't, I haven't blogged for over two weeks. I liken it most to hibernation. My soul is a bit battered I have to admit. But frankly, who's soul isn't a bit battered?

And double-frankly, what would life be like if everything went smoothly and graced us with only happiness all of the time? Ick. Boring. Vanilla. Please pinch me and wake me up from this wonderful dream!

I tend to allude to it only occasionally, but really, the reason and focus of this blog is to help me find my way through this period of my life. If we live long enough (like more than one minute) we are all faced with our changing lives and having to adapt to them. But certain phases are particularly difficult. And these days if you're so inclined, there is this opportunity to blog about it. My sincere hope for anyone who chooses to read this blog is that you find a comaraderie and the occasional inspiration to help you through whatever phase in life you are facing, whether you are finding it particularly difficult or not.

In other words this is not an online diary but hopefully a living, breathing dialogue that benefits me and you.

That said, I'm sorry I've bailed on you for the past two weeks. But honestly it will probably happen again now & then. It is my way. Sometimes I need to retreat. Sometimes I need to hibernate. I need to rest and lick my wounds. I need to be alone and to be introspective and to be quiet. I need to grow and to get stronger. And I need to wait for my compass to realign and point the way.

*****

Jeff Bridges in Crazy Heart

I've seen Crazy Heart twice in so many days--the Jeff Bridges movie in which he's up for best actor tonight? Ok so it's crazy good. I will cry my eyeballs out if he doesn't win the Oscar. Go see it in the theater if you can. I don't want to spoil it by giving any of it away but let me say this .....I am the biggest fan of music but definitely not a big country music fan. As a point of illustration I went out of my way a few weeks ago to track down the only non-country music bar in all of Nashville, which I now regret. If you don't already know Crazy Heart is about a washed-up country-music man ....

(OMG and the literal thousands of parallels to ex-boyfriend musician Steve are literally hysterical starting with when he stumbles out of his beat-up thirty year-old Suburban after a long drive between gigs, with his pants and belt buckle undone .....and ending with when I ask him from my nice little suburban house in Virginia which hotel he's in while he's on the road and he answers he has no idea what f***ing hotel he's in, "Hell I don't even know what f***ing town I'm in!")

.....so after watching Crazy Heart, I realize I should have totally soaked up every bit of country music in Nashville while I had the opportunity. Nothing like being country music serenaded while staring down hard times. I should have totally been there.

Country music is perfect for this movie. And this is a near perfect movie. Go see it.

I want to leave you with the theme song from Crazy Heart which is also up for Best Original Song tonight and which also could be the theme song for today's post: The Weary Kind, Ryan Bingham and T Bone Burnett

The Weary Kind

(Theme from Crazy Heart)

Ryan Bingham and T Bone Burnett

Your Heart's on the loose

You rolled those sevens with

Nothin' to lose

This ain't no place for

The weary kind

You called all your shots

Shootin' eight balls at the corner

Truck stop

Somehow this don't feel like home

Anymore

This ain't no place

For the weary kind

This ain't no place

To lose your mind

This ain't no place to fall behind

Pick up your crazy heart and give it one

More try

Your body aches

From playing your guitar and sweatin'

out the hate

The days and the nights all feel

The same

The whiskey has been

The thorn in your side that

Doesn't forgive

The highway that calls for your

Heart inside

This ain't no place for

The weary kind

This ain't no place to lose your mind

This ain't no place to fall behind

Pick up your crazy heart and give

It one more try

Your lover's warm kiss

Is too damn far from your fingertips

You are the man that ruined the world

Your heart's on the loose

You rolled them sevens with

Nothin' to lose

This ain't no place for

The weary kind

Crazy Heart Official Website

Bathroom Cleaning Tip

2010-02-18T14:41:00.003-05:00

All right, all right ....Alisa politely inquired (see comment in Catch-Up Week) about the whereabouts of the promised "Who is ...?" post that was supposed to be posted last night. Answer: Well it's ready except I've somehow LOST all the pictures of the "Who is ...?" subject! And this particular "Who is ...?" really requires A LOT of pictures because he (clue) is SO CUTE (tantalizing teaser clue).

Several weeks ago in preparation for this post, I asked Thing One (for new readers Thing One is my oldest son who goes to school at Virginia Tech) and Thing Two (sixteen year-old head-banger son at home) to email me their pictures of "Who is ...?" because they have some really good pic's taken of him with their phone-cameras. They both dutifully complied. And now I can't find them even though whenever I clean out my Email inbox (which is only every 2 months or so, but which I did 2 days ago), I always (very clever) leave all old Emails in the deleted folder in case I need to retrieve one later. So all deleted items sit there for 2 months until the next big clean-out. Fool proof!

Apparently not because the pictures from both boys are nowhere to be found. So am now waiting for both Things to send them again .....heh, heh. Can't nag about it too much either. One Thing is in class in Blacksburg right now and the other Thing is in class in Chesapeake right now (both claimed to be studying last night) ....really?? (eye's squinting in disbelief)

Sigh. Can't stand self-incompetence or I'm-busy-studying deception!

*****

In the meantime, Alisa asked me if I have any bathroom cleaning tips since I announced yesterday I was zipping off to scrub toilets & things. I thought, Me? Cleaning tip?? No ..... but then I thought, Yes!!! I DO have a cleaning tip!

This may not be terribly original, but if you don't happen to use Mr. Clean's Magic Eraser® already, you're seriously missing out on the best thing to remove soap scum in history. NOTHING removes soap scum except this baby. And you must buy the "Extra Power" with the ridges:

Don't mess around with any other Magic Eraser® rendition. This one works the best and lasts the longest. Umm nice. No wonder I like ~~Mr. Clean~~ it so much!

Oh I must add there is a serious amount of elbow-grease involved here, but I'm usually so excited so see so much soap scum going down the drain and telling myself that slim, muscular arms will be envy of all that I don't mind. OMG! Just realized I have First Ever Cooking Tip and First Ever Cleaning Tip posted in the same week. Eech! Am regressing to Domestic Goddess ....not part of the "finding my bliss" plan!!

(plan involves finding my bliss in area that pays so profusely that I, in-turn, pay maid to be domestic goddess for me)

PS--"Who is ...?" will post as soon as Things (eye-rollingly) get around to sending me their pictures again.

Catch-Up Week

2010-02-17T14:09:00.003-05:00

I realize that on several occasions I've made reference to an upcomimg post that I plan to post .....and then don't! So I'm introducing Catch-Up Week where I literally catch-up those seemingly, yet not really, forgotten posts.

And I have this cute idea that in my usual have-to-make-things-harder manner may stress me out a bit later because I only have the "who" and the "what" worked out so far ....but I can't resist it. Later, sch-mater!! Each catch-up post this week will follow the who, what, when, where, and maybe even the how format!!!!

I know you're ~~rather ho-hum~~ dying to see how this plays out, so keep posted because right now I have to go clean a bathroom, but as I scrub, I will be working out "Who is ........????" to post later tonight. Fun!

not me, but it should be

picture from http://pdbb.wordpress.com/

PS--Oh! Please (always) feel free to send "post requests" whether I've alluded to it as a future post or not. I'm always open to suggestion .....not of the "you are getting sleepy" variety ......but of the "whatever happened to ....?" or the "why don't you write about this ......?" ~~or the "wtf ........????"~~ or the "have you found your bliss yet?" variety. Ok?

First Ever Cooking Tip

2010-02-15T10:37:00.006-05:00

photos from http://www.gilligansisle.com/photos.html

I think? I don't believe I've touched on anything in the cooking-category yet on this blog? Except to recommend Lick The Bowl Good which is my super-favo cooking blog. Check it out and say hi to Monica for me--lurrvv her!

Anyway, who ever thought the following combination would be a reality??
1) the Idaho Potato
2) Mary Ann from Gilligan's Island
3) Cooking Tip

But it is! I received an email from my BFF Wendy who lives in Chandler, Arizona near Phoenix (Hi Wendy!) with this unexpected combo packaged handily into a YouTube video. After watching it, I grabbed a potato, boiled that sucker, and Voila! It worked!!

Idaho Potato + Mary Ann + Cooking Tip

It's too handy to pass-up handing it on ....so for dinner tonight? Cheesy Potato Soup! And for breakfast tomorrow morning?? Breakfast potatoes. Of course!! I will be trying out these recipes: Lick The Bowl Good--Potato Recipes

PS--I guess Mary Ann really did have a "thing" for The Professor .....(see video--he's the only cast member she talks about ....and keeps talking about .....The Professor and the Idaho Potato ad nauseum!)

Aww, not very nice Professor ...don't laugh at Mary Ann!

No! This one must have killed her!!

PPS--purposely avoiding any Valentine's Day discussion ...am still reeling from Kathleen's death .....plus spent V-day at movies with two teenagers "The Wolfman" (very romantic) ......and finally, found myself at the laundromat (washing machine at home making scary noise and emitting "electrical" smell) last night fumbling with quarters while other laundromat patrons look on placidly. As in cows chewing cuds. I know life could be super-way-worse but am having to remind myself of that every 3 seconds.

Btw, everyone's kind sentiments have helped tremendously ....thank-you all from the bottom of my heart.

Dear Kathleen

2010-02-13T11:51:00.013-05:00

                                   It is fitting after a fitful
                                   few hours
                                   to wake to a crow’s caw
                                   through a slightly open window.

                                   Wet snow muffles everything else.

                                   Goose down keeps me
                                   but cold air
                                   heedless and unknowing greets my exposed foot.
                                   The tang of warm
                                   grapey alcohol—
                                   undrunk wineglass on the nightstand—
                                   you, an odd comfort.

                                   Everything I see
                                   I haven’t seen
                                   since I heard you died.
                                   I’m so sorry.

                                   Now you know too.
                                                            --lgw

Heartbroken Cartoon Saturday

2010-02-13T04:00:00.012-05:00

Dearest Readers,

I have so many things I can't wait to write about but for one reason or another, lately, I keep running into (the proverbial) roadblocks. Not writer's block mind you .......yikes! Now that I've written that, I probably will get writer's block! (us writers are a superstitious lot--the baseball players of artists--now I'm gonna have to keep a cherry lifesaver under the arch of my foot in my right shoe every time I sit down to write)

So I was thrown, horribly, late yesterday to learn that my voice teacher and dear friend died unexpectedly at home last night, a presumed heart attack. Her 50th birthday is today. She leaves behind her husband and her fourteen year-old son, her extended family, and thousands of friends.

It's shocking to me .......you know ......I truly loved her for many, many reasons ..........I thought she'd be around for my whole life (and that her whole life and my whole life would be "the same"--who can imagine otherwise?).

Kathleen, you possessed the most unfailing kindness and the most beautiful voice of anyone I've ever known.

My post yesterday didn't happen because I was bawling and beside myself. Now, of all things, here I am faced with Cartoon Saturday which I haven't had for awhile and it's due. Plus my favorite political cartoonist was on a real streak this week and I've been looking forward to highlighting him today.

So the show must go on. Thank-you Mr. Toles for making me smile through tears. And thank-you all for your patience. I know "life" happens to you too.

*****

Tom Toles, The Washington Post, January 27, 2010

Tom Toles, The Washington Post, February 4, 2010

Tom Toles, The Washington Post, February 5, 2010

Tom Toles, The Washington Post, February 7, 2010

Tom Toles, The Washington Post, February 8, 2010

Tom Toles, The Washington Post, February 9, 2010

Tom Toles, The Washington Post, February 10, 2010

PS--I was in the same hotel (actually I think I was eating the best southern food in the farthest West Nashville you can imagine--still close by) when the hand-crib-notes incident happened last weekend!

Tom Toles, The Washington Post, February 11, 2010

Tom Toles, The Washington Post, February 12, 2010

*****

Note to self: tell people you love them. Even when it's not almost Valentine's Day. Especially when it's not almost Valentine's Day ....

Two Conclusions

2010-02-09T21:08:00.007-05:00

I have realized (particularly this past week) two things: 1) that my inspiration to blog comes in the feast or famine variety (all at once or none at all) and 2) that I think I was a man in a previous life.

I shall begin by apologizing for the recent famine portion of You Must Take Your Chance. Yes, first I was busy getting ready to go to Blissdom '10 (bloggers conference this past weekend). Then, I was busy at Blissdom '10. Then, I was exhausted after returning home from Blissdom '10. And finally, I think I was a little "tweaked" out by Blissdom '10.

Let me say it was an amazing experience.

Andi of Misadventures With Andi and Alisa of Project Happily Ever After and I were the three amigos at Blissdom '10. Andi and Alisa being infinitely more knowledgeable than me, way more "connected" than me, and inexplicably kind and patient with me. Here's a cute example of what I'm talking about: one of the first things you do upon arriving at the Opryland Hotel in Nashville is to toddle over to the Blissdom '10 registration counter to register that you have arrived. Upon registering you receive I swear the nicest canvas bag Land's End has to offer (which is going to become my favorite beach bag this summer) filled to the brim with stuff! Make-up, bags of chips & candy (Bliss Chocolates, of course), a sweet necklace with a freshwater pearl & a silver charm embossed with "bliss", facial products from my super-fave facial products company, Bliss! A pair of nice socks, an aluminum water bottle, etc. You get the idea. The bag was overflowing with cool stuff. Swag. So I exclaim to A & A, "It's like a swag bag!!!" And A & A who did not flinch and were sweet as could be said, "Yes Laurie .....it IS a swag bag". In my defense, I was referring to The Night At The Oscars-variety of swag bag because, until now, I didn't know people besides celebrities ever received such things. Ultimately I had to leave half of the swag there because I couldn't fit it all in my suitcase. But that's ok because I left the baby pacifiers and the salty onion strings that give me canker sores and other swag that I wouldn't use anyway. Hopefully the hotel cleaning staff can use such swag.

My emptied out swag bag--nice huh?

But I obsess. Here's something else at the conference I obsessed about--the attendees and their laptops. Ok it's a bloggers conference. There are going to be lots of laptops. There were. At one point during a session with distinguished panelists ~~blathering on~~ helpfully informing us about successful blogging technique (which btw includes consistent, predictable posting), I was drifting a bit and I began to count how many laptops were in my range of vision--I'm assuming these people are taking notes. By the time I got to thirty-eight, I finally realize that every single laptop in my view (and I wasn't done counting yet) had the same exact screen open--Twitter!!! (Y-e-s ....I kind-of tweet. In the one-way announcing what I'm doing at that moment manner. You can imagine how many re-tweets I get) But even though I was a bit bored at this particular juncture, I didn't have to remind myself that I was paying for this advice! I'm not going to sit there and monitor the thousands of people I follow (in actuality I follow 12) on Twitter. It's rude! It's living in an alternate universe. It's kind of creepy. And I feel about one hundred and fifty years-old. Like what it must have felt like to be sitting up high on your rather elegant horse-pulled buggy as the smoke-belching, ear-splitting cacophony of the first Model A's jalopied by.

Eventually I counted sixty-seven laptops in view; fifty-five on Twitter and the remaining twelve appeared to be shopping. Nobody was blogging. And apparently no one was listening. Including me (too busy counting and getting creeped out, imagining if I peel back their skin, I will discover androids as in the "Ash"-variety from Alien).

At one point, in the throes of all this, both Andi and Alisa agree that there are far fewer laptops than they've encountered at previous bloggers conferences!!!!!!! I'm speechless. Up on my buggy.

There is more to tell which I will elaborate on in future posts: my moment with Harry Connick Jr. in which he has his arm around me (of which there is a picture and of which I'm only one of the five hundred or so attendees of the conference that he (poor guy) eventually had his arm around for what must have seemed like ten-thousand pictures); my night out on the town in Nashville; the best southern food ever eaten at what must be the best southern fried food restaurant in the world after what must be the most nerve-wracking and expensive ride around the Tennessee countryside after dark ever; and the pièce de résistance ......the fact that during the entire weekend of the conference I shared a hotel with the First Annual National Tea Party Convention where the keynote speaker was Sarah Palin!!!!!!!!!!!!! Keeping my snarky comments and opinions about this fascinating "opportunity" all weekend long was a study in serious self-control.

But finally, I must comment on why I believe I may have a been a man in a previous life.

This conference conjured up a number of past experiences, none of which I count as I my favorite ones, and none of which I've lumped together until now. And let me say first that I'm the weird one here--but there is something about a bunch of frenzied, weepy women all obsessed on the same thing that makes me very uncomfortable. (As in how I imagine a man might feel in similar circumstances) My dear sorority sisters can attest to this. I always had one foot in and one foot out of that sorority house never quite completely committing to the Tri-Delta way-to-live-college-life pledge. My dear PTA friends will concur. Once I received Volunteer of the Year, they never saw me again! (my kids were literally begging me to "not do PTA"). And my friend Lisa who's helmed a very successful scrapbooking business for at least the past fifteen years knows by now that I will almost always say I'm going to attend the next big scrapbooking bonanza, I always pay for it, and I almost always never show up!! (I'm sorry Lisa)

So what is it about a mob of super-organized, super-estrogened women all focused on one common goal that freaks me out? I don't know. You can't complain about the literally "excessive" organization--it's WAY better than a strictly male-organized conference which would likely be a mess of monumental proportions. I'm more of a girly-girl than a not-girly-girl .......so god knows I can be emotional. I don't know. I just wish this conference wasn't so strictly a woman's conference. It's not the sexual tension that would probably exist in a conference attended equally by men & women that I miss. I think it's just a balance I'm craving--not too much estrogen. Not too much frenzy. Not too much weeping. (Yes there was a fair amount of weeping!) Not too much female point-of-view? Ugh. I don't know. Girls’ rock! Maybe it was just my first bloggers conference and I felt a sense of being an outsider looking-in? Or being a man in a previous life?? What? Ok this post is getting ridiculous and making no sense.

I shall wrap up by reiterating (just ignore previous negatively-toned paragraphs) that the conference couldn't possibly have been lovelier. Or better organized. It was fantastic. I learned a lot. I had so much fun with Andi and Alisa. I met a lot of other great women too. Harry Connick Jr. had his arm around me (for a millisecond). And I got to see that Sarah Palin supporters are people too (people who wear baseball caps with white George Washington ponytails attached to the back and who carry around giant head-shot posters--of the ex-presidential candidate and the ex-Alaskan governor and the ex-mother-in-law-to-be to Levi Johnston--on sticks.)

As for my conclusions, I will just have to stick to blogging when I'm inspired and hope that I'm inspired on a fairly regular basis; and I'll bet that I was a man in a previous life who got stuck at an all-female bloggers conference and hope that I can get past this odd sentiment to completely enjoy myself as a female in this life at the next one.

Cute Picture of cute friends who are NOT the weepy females

I was referrring to!

PS--be sure to check out Andi's and Alisa's blogs. They are both very smart girls with very cool blogs who couldn't possibly be nicer. Andi's blog Misadventures With Andi is simply fun and topical and very professional. And Alisa's Project Happily Ever After is a wicked, laser-insightful blog on making marriages/relationships work (her book Project Happily Ever After will be out later this year!).

Hokie Snow

2010-02-03T11:52:00.004-05:00

Thing One was getting lots of snow in Blacksburg at Virginia Tech the same time we were having our big snow bonanza this past weekend so I asked him to send some snow pictures. He first sent me this one (from his dorm room window) which I told him was about as lame as it comes and that I certainly hope he's putting more effort into school than he is in taking snow pictures for his mother's blog:

Gee thanks Thing One

So then he sent me these pic's ......good job honey! You're redeemed!! Thank-you.

Thing One focused most of these pictures on the central feature of the campus which is the Virginia Tech drillfield. It's at the heart of the campus; one could easily argue it is the heart of Virginia Tech landscapically (ok so that's not an actual word, but it should be) speaking. And no offense to Thing One but pictures really don't do the drillfield justice. It's huge; it's the most spectacular gathering point; it's fringed with one hundred year-old trees (maybe older, just guessing?); it has classroom buildings on one side and dormitories on the other (all built in famous Hokie Stone); at one end of the drillfield is the Virginia Tech War Memorial and the other end is open to the rest of the campus. It is beloved by the students and apparently at least one parent because until this very moment I had no idea how much I [heart] that drillfield. Suffice to say it's practically profound!

Get it? Red Bull gives you wings ....cute

I Love To Dance

2010-02-02T10:37:00.002-05:00

Poetry Girl On The Last Day Of January

2010-01-31T20:10:00.000-05:00

January

          Again I reply to the triple winds
          running chromatic fifths of derision
          outside my window:
                                          Play louder.
          You will not succeed. I am
          bound more to my sentences
          the more you batter at me
          to follow you.
                               And the wind,
          as before, fingers perfectly
          its derisive music.
                               --William Carlos Williams

Winter Scene

          There is not a single
          leaf on the cherry tree:

          except when the jay
          plummets in, lights, and,

          in pure clarity, squalls:
          then every branch

          quivers and
          breaks out in blue leaves.
                               --A. R. Ammons

Snow Post Script

2010-01-31T08:00:00.005-05:00

Ok well we only got 8" of snow .......but still ........that's 8" more than we usually get! It's so beautiful. I have no idea what you people who get snow all the time are complaining about.

Joking!!!

Cool, I can hear "crunching" on the street below as a car is going by .......you all know the view off my left shoulder as I sit here typing early on a Sunday morning (see last pic in Snow!!!! post)

More Winter posts to come ....

SNOW!!!!

2010-01-30T11:23:00.019-05:00

If you can't tell already, here in the southeast corner--on the coast--of Virginia, we don't get snow very often! Nobody does on any coast. I can attest to that growing up as a navy-brat (one more thing I've never talked about on this blog ...but I shall). So for those of you who have had snow this winter as one "would take a sip of water from a fire hose" (weird analogy but you get it), skip this post! Cuz we're excited!! Today.

Tomorrow when I run out of orange juice may be another story ...

The forecast is calling for anywhere between 6" to 12" (OMG one foot!). So I'm going to post snow progression pictures at three-ish hour intervals. Ok so I know I'm not the best photographer (one of my bloggy goals this year--learn to be best photographer) but the idea is to watch the accumulation!

This first set was taken an hour ago in my PJ's with slippers-with-hole on (see pic) so they're a little boring cuz I'm standing inside taking pictures of the outside. Plus I wanted to get the pristine look (aka the un-messed-up-before-teenage-son-got-out-there-and-mangled-it-all-up look) (that has now happened btw so future pic's will have mangled look) (I'm gonna get snow boots on myself though and take pictures of un-mangled snow as I walk around!) (on second thought, just heard cold gust of sleety snow hit the window I'm sitting next to--perhaps will have some hot chocolate instead?)

from the front door

3 hours later

next morning

you guessed it! the back

3 hours later

next morning

OMG! Thing One are you reading this???? We should go out and play SpecTrek IN THE SNOW!!

Ok readers, a review: Thing Two is a sophomore in high school and is (obviously) home with me (although currently outside flinging snow balls at friends). Thing One is a freshman at Virginia Tech which is in Blacksburg, Virginia--a very long six-hour drive due west almost into West Virginia & Kentucky nestled in between the Blue Ridge Mountains and the Allegheny Mountains. Blacksburg is currently at 13 degrees with about a foot of snow already. We're at 25 degrees.

SpecTrek is this ghost-catching App Thing One & I downloaded onto our DROIDS--it uses GPS to pinpoint your location and it makes up ghosts and places them outside, wherever you may be, within a three-mile radius. This App is a combination of pure recreation and getting-some-exercise because you have to, kinda, literally, run after these ghosts (they move). The point is to get close enough to take a picture of the ghosts which equals "catching" them. Once you catch all the ghosts you win! Fun! So in the snow? FUNNER!!!

(Although you look like a nut running around with your phone taking pictures of nothing ....so Thing One may not be willing to do that in front of his college-buds .....except he's studying engineering and lives in a dorm where all the residents are studying engineering .....and no offense Thing One but you guys are all pretty d-o-r-k-y ....probably every single one of you has been running around after fake-ghosts all morning while the other college students are still sleeping off hangovers .......good for you Thing One!) (Don't correct me if I'm wrong about this)

Check back for snow-picture updates. Hey Thing One, send me some snow pic's from Blacksburg and I'll post them!

Yikes. What's coming from the other side of the window sounds mean. Hot chocolate here I come!

No Flowers For You J.D. Salinger

2010-01-29T14:53:00.001-05:00

"Who wants flowers when you're dead? Nobody."

But we will mourn you and be grateful that you wrote your words and be glad they are etched on our lives~

This is how I feel exactly--this second, this afternoon--when we are expecting up to a foot of snow tonight:

It was that kind of a crazy afternoon, terrifically cold, and no sun out or anything, and you felt like you were disappearing every time you crossed a road. --Holden Caulfield, Catcher in the Rye

A Conversation Between You & Me

2010-01-28T15:37:00.016-05:00

What will I be doing one week from today you ask? (you were going to ask me that right?)
I will be winging to Nashville! Tennessee!! For this:

What's this you ask?
It's a bloggers conference. Now I'm a little mad they stole my "bliss" idea .......

How long have I been blogging you ask?
Three months.

They had Blissdom '09 last year you say? And Blissdom '08 the year before?
Oh. Well then they should consider giving me a discount since they & I are obviously of like mind!

*****

Ok, so I totally can't wait! But I'm also somewhat intimidated. I'm going by myself! And I've only been doing this for a few months!! OMG what was I thinking!!!

Oh and btw I don't have a laptop *bombshell* I know. I told everyone at work yesterday ...

(I have never once brought up my part-time job at a small accounting firm in Virginia Beach .....I've been saving it for a future post(s) ......I love it and work with some v-e-r-y fascinating people (hi y'all!) ......and wrapping up--get your tax stuff to your accountant NOW!!!! ......you can thank me for this very excellent advice on April 15th)

...so yesterday I told everyone at work about the Blissdom conference. They all looked at me rather mystified as I prattled on about the accommodations and the fact that Harry Connick, Jr. will be singing for us Saturday night and that I'm determined not to buy one single article of new clothing for this grand adventure (my M.O. is to run out and buy expensive things right before an exciting trip) and that I don't have a laptop which is a bit like arriving at a polo tournament without your horse! As I said--mystified.

Two days ago, I called Ex who recently bought himself a very pretty, apple-red Dell laptop .......to ask if I could borrow his old laptop for the conference. When I asked him he said "no" at which point I was congratulating myself for divorcing this "doesn't share well with others" person when he said ......are you ready for this? ........"I'm planning on getting you one of your own". Really??!! choke He's pleased because for once, I'm speechless.

Disclaimer: remember reconciliation is completely and totally not ever going to be a concept--I said before that I would occasionally say nice things about Ex--we're just a great divorced couple who mostly are pretty darn nice to each other. He apparently plans to be nice about a new laptop! We shall see. Oh in case you're wondering too since it's now in writing on my blog if I'm using this as coercion, don't worry about that either--Ex doesn't read my blog. Umm let's see, he's probably asked me the name of my blog fifteen times so far because he keeps forgetting [really?] Reconciliation? Uh no, never. Even if there is a laptop in my near future.

While we're on the subject, here's an update on Steve (who also never reads my blog and has no idea what it's called even though a number of his friends (hi Randy!) read it and, even, remember the name of it ......mental note: find nice man who shows a passing interest in my interests) Ok Steve update: we are not together anymore but we've talked a couple of times. So that's good. I don't want him out of my life for good. I need him around for comic relief! But as Randy recently said "Lord help the woman that loves him!!" and, I think, he was talking to me .....

Enough for today. Tomorrow ...what's a Poken?

Despite The Cold

2010-01-26T10:45:00.002-05:00

Poetry Girl Sunday--Dear God

2010-01-24T19:12:00.005-05:00

Today for Poetry Girl Sunday, I am featuring one of my favorite bloggers jenx67. You can find her in my Golden Blogroll--down, down--in the right sidebar. Her blog is dedicated to celebrating & commenting on all things Generation X; the generation loosely defined as those people born between 1961-1981 (the generation on the heels of the Baby Boomers). One of the things that distinctifies Generation X is that we are aging. Much to our surprise.

(btw, I was born in May 1961 so I am barely a Generation X-er--well me and George Clooney who was born 18 days before me--charming company although he appears to like years-younger women not days-younger women .....sigh)

Aging. Not a new human experience. If life is a mountain, it is as if I have reached a clearing near the top. I've stopped here for awhile and am resting. I look all around me--I can see the path I have taken to get here. I can see others behind me, on their way up. I can see those ahead of me on the path making their way down the mountain. I can see the path in front of me leading into the future. It is, at once, magnificent and daunting. It is empowering and heartbreaking. Frightening and exciting. Mysterious and certain. Validating and invalidating.

Dear God, why must life be so impervious, relentless, and unforgiving?

Two concepts of aging have quietly introduced themselves to me in my mountaintop clearing that go beyond the expected aging concepts in which you become less attractive and more frail : 1) other people in my life are aging too! Oh no!! and 2) I feel the same as I always have ...only perhaps ...(only slightly) wiser.

jenx's poem "leaving you just when i needed to most" will possibly leave you perplexed. But please read it not worrying about what jenx meant ....think about what it might mean to you. The best poets want to leave you with an insight into your own life, not theirs. After I read "leaving you just when i needed to most" this past week, without consciously bidding it, her strong images of loss and grief kept coming back to me.

Who wants that you might ask?

But from my mountain-top perspective, I know you can't live long enough to reach the clearing without experiencing loss. And I realize I need to reconcile my own feelings of loss before I can move on. I can't head into the future without a sense of peace about ALL aspects of life including the impervious, relentless, unforgiving, and yes, grief-filled aspects.

Ironically (or not--connections are everywhere if you look for them), the same day I read jenx's poem, I opened my new Mark Knopfler (of Dire Straits) CD, Get Lucky. The second track is called "Hard Shoulder".

Read jenx's poem and let the images speak to you. Listen to Mark Knopfler's "Hard Shoulder" too. For me, perhaps inexplicably, they call out to one another and they are both calling out to me. Think about the feelings they invoke. Feel at one with each because you've experienced loss and disappointment and failure too. Feel unburdened by kindred spirits. Feel a connection to another human being. Feel, no matter where you are on the mountain, a sort of transcendence beyond your moment by moment, minute by minute life--dare to feel it all; dare to feel the very most alive.

*****

leaving you just when i needed to most

Let me just tell the world:
I left you today
And I’m certain when I did,
I chipped a tile
From the Mosaic
The fractured Bride of God.

It seems I had no choice
For 25 some-odd years I’ve watched
The same man
Silver hair and a gold horn
He played it like me
But, safer
And, you know,

I didn’t.

I fancied myself bombastic
Like James the Less
And, now here I am
No more casseroles to supplant our superficial conversations
You left
Just when you needed me most.

And, so this is what I choose for myself
This fractured daughter of God.

I stuff the change in my cold Armani pocket
And, I hold the door behind me
For you, a stranger
Four gallons of water looped around your fingers
They sway you in the Oklahoma wind
You smile with heartbroken
Ghastly yellow teeth
And, say with Broadway exuberance
My radiator is overheating and
I have to have all this water just to get home!

You twirl oddly in the wind
Talking to the sky
And, I leave you.
Just like everyone else
And I carry myself, all privilege gone
To a business appointment
Which I want to abandon
To sit with you in the Oklahoma wind
Cradle you on this prairie
And tell you

Why do we answer questions
No one is asking?
Did you think your sorrow would escape me?
It did not

Tonight, you’ll cook your crank in a bath tub
But, only after we find a new radiator
Together at a junkyard
Just like my dad had to do a dozen times.
And, I’ll hold you in a rusted automobile
And beat my chest and say
We are having church!

My God, we are having church
All you effing sonsofbitches.

But, I am dreaming.
I have missed another opportunity
And, I was missed a dozen times
1,500 lonely days
We beat crickets off us while we watched Kimmy eat a bug.
Survivors. It was so long ago.

The radiator hisses
like the last summer of childhood
Lizard juice and burned rubber
The wishes boiled and smoked
And, I was too proud.
I wanted everyone to read my mind.

But, I would not change it
I am halfway to the skeleton frame
Where I belong.

I am leaving you.
I know.
You were innocent like me.
Keeping appointments
God never intended you to make to begin with.
--jenx67

Mark Knopfler, Hard Shoulder

Hard Shoulder

I've got latches for windows, handles for doors
Grinders and scrapers and sanders for floors
Rake for the gravel, chains for the snow
Always got the shovel - you never know
I never thought you'd go

Man's broken down
Man's broken down on the slip road
Got a slipped load
And it's a hard shoulder to cry on

Hacksaws and hammers, brushes and mop
Then I've got the ladders up on the top
If something needs doing, I always say
You want it done the proper way
I need you to stay

Man's broken down
Man's broken down on the slip road
Got a slipped load
And it's a hard shoulder to cry on

Give me a minute we'll be going again
Sound as a pound, right as rain
- right as rain
And it's a hard shoulder to cry on
- to cry on
--Mark Knopfler

PS--be sure to check-out jenx67--are you there God? it's me generation X

Cartoon Saturday #5

2010-01-23T18:32:00.002-05:00

The Good ...

The Bad ...

The Shameful ...

A Much Needed Diversion

2010-01-19T16:56:00.020-05:00

In the throes of trying not to wallow in sadness over the heartbreaking horrors of the world (recently brought into such sharp focus courtesy of poor Haiti) I'm throwing myself into serious smarmy-ness

..........not The Golden Globes themselves (I didn't even watch them!) ..........

but the "oh so juicy better than the actual thing" (smarmy!) special fashion wrap-up (the day after) shows!!!!!!! Or, who "hit" and who "missed" on the 67th Annual Golden Globes Red Carpet!

And this post is most merrily dedicated to the misses!

Is that you Mary Poppins? (who I love--but not for your fashion sense)

Or you Tina Fey? (ditto)

Don't worry if you didn't catch the shallow, acerbic, totally delicious! airings last night on Entertainment Tonight (NBC) or The Fashion Police (The E! Entertainment Channel)--I have conveniently included links below for the highlights! Plus they will be continuing this very specific coverage in multi-orgasmic fashion all week long with the likes of Joan Rivers and Cojo dictating every blunder! Phew! Just in time for a diversion in the cushy lives we lead in which our biggest decision is "which hole is better" for breakfast at Hardees: Hardees A hole or B hole?

So let's face it--it's the fashion blunders we're on the edge of our couches for, isn't it?????

In truth I was actually snuggled as deeply into the old leather couch as possible under the penguined-fleece blanket Thing One and Thing Two gave me for Christmas 7 years ago that completely clashes with the "decor" (no other penguins in sight) of my living room, wearing the fashion forward combo of old-pilled-yoga-leggings and my Janis Joplin t-shirt that is only cool now because "vintage" is momentarily, happily cool.

The blunders make us feel better about our own fashion choices--we would NEVER have allowed our stylists to talk us into those blunder get-ups:

First, we would have hired better stylists!!!!!

Second, we would have the fashion sense to elegantly nod our regal heads at the gown that pink-jacketed-weird-hair'd Cojo will deem fashion nirvana, not at the "sack" that we know stone-faced-super-plastic'd Joan Rivers will croak out is destined for fashion hell.

I mean really! Excuse me? Why aren't we on the red carpet??

Cojo's Best and Worst Dressed for Golden Globes 2010
and
E! Online Fashion Police Golden Globe 2010 Overview
Where you will want to check-out:
1) "Fierce Fashions at Golden Globes"
2) "2010 Globes: Fashion Police, Pt. 1"
3) "2010 Globes: Fashion Police, Pt. 2"

And rounding out this special diversion post, a few pictures of the best of the worst! No--I don't have a thing against Mary Poppins (see above), giant breasts, or Russian mail-order brides--I just hate bad fashion sense! (Hello?)

Mariah Carey--what dress? Nick who?

Christina Hendricks--I don't know who you are

but now you are memorable to me

in a very Jessica Rabbit-caricature-X-LARGE way

(see Mariah Carey)

Mickey Rourke--I do see your Russian mail-order bride

but it's not working to distract me from your usual mess

(in fact the contrast makes it worse)

I know there are more delightfully great pic's of blatant bad fashion from Sunday's Golden Globes out there but Thing Two is hungry and I have to make dinner!! Send me some great-bad pictures of the stars and we can be mean and smug and diverted together .........(hee hee)

PS--Look for future diversion-related-posts-for-tough-times when I feature E!'s The Real Housewives Series'!

"Haiti" to 90999

2010-01-13T22:40:00.027-05:00

Dear Readers,

If you haven't heard yet, the American Red Cross has mobilized a very easy, effective way to raise money to go toward the relief effort so desperately needed in Haiti. I'm sure you know how immediate and dire the circumstances are--just tune in to CNN for five minutes if you don't. Understandably, more than anything they need money.

The public can also help by texting “Haiti” to 90999 to send a $10 donation to the Red Cross, through an effort backed by the U.S. State Department. Funds will go to support American Red Cross relief efforts in Haiti.

OK simply text "Haiti" to 90999 .......and your cell phone will be charged $10.00 (something most of us can easily afford even during a recession).

Shortly after you send the text, you will receive a text confirming that you indeed want to donate $10.00, in which you text back, "Yes". It's legit and it's effective. Click here for more information and to reassure yourself that this is a valid relief initiative: American Red Cross Haiti Relief Effort

This is SO EASY and it has the potential TO RAISE MILLIONS OF DOLLARS to help other HUMAN BEINGS. Please consider helping ...

*****

For me life is a tapestry in which its warp and weft--you know the process by which two distinct yarns or threads are woven up & over, and down & under to create a weave--has evolved a storied, ancient, priceless tapestry that has misty edges that make the beginning and the end of it mysterious and unknown.

The tapestry is huge and colorful and eclectic. It is soft here and rough there. It is rich with new dense wool and it is thin, fragile, nearly worn-through cotton. It is rich and poor. It is fragrant and fetid. It is kind and it is cruel. It is fair and unfair. It is warm, it is cold. And we seem to think it goes on endlessly.

But my favorite part of thinking of life this way is the idea that throughout its weave, each and every thread is connected to all the other threads in the way that, say, one sleeve, thread by thread is connected to the rest of a garment--which is connected to the collar which is (ta-da!) connected to the other sleeve.

Now if you were to ask me who I would trust more, a human or an animal, I would answer (unless it was a hungry tiger in a small cage with me--give me a break--I'm trying to make a point here!) ....the animal. Animals have remained true to their original natures. At least you can be fairly sure of what you're dealing with when it comes to just about any animal species.

But we humans ......we're a different story. We have evolved astoundingly! Yet we remain firmly planted to terra firma by virtue of the exact same DNA that our nomadic, pre-tribal, ape-like, first modern human ancestors bequeathed us. Modern Homo Sapien Sapiens (yes, just learned this in quick little research--Neanderthals are included in Homo Sapien genus--modern man is technically in the Homo Sapien Sapien (two "Sapiens"!) genus--who knew?), so human kind has been evolving for more than 500,000 years; modern man, of who's DNA I am referring to, for a mere 195,000 years.

In this relatively short time frame, we have learned to create life, one astounding masterpiece--be it artistic, or technological, or simply humanitarian--at a time and we have learned how to wipe all life from earth if we are so inclined. Homo Sapien Sapien has conquered all habitable parts of the planet and is the undisputed ruler of the food chain yet our fears and instincts are rooted to a time, pre-civilization, when we were hunter gatherers.

In other words, we've evolved into a global community, a global civilization, whether our DNA likes it or not.

Quick overview:

1) Life is a tapestry in which we are all connected.

2) Our species evolved magnificently but, in equal measure, we are ancient, cruel-minded, predictably provincial, and woefully out-of-date in comparison to our accomplishments.

So with this highly opinionated .....opinion ....as the backdrop, tonight I found it ironic that as the horror in Haiti unfurls on our TV sets, I happened to catch the second episode of a series on PBS called "The Human Spark". Click here for a quick description of the series: The Human Spark, series introduction (1:00)

And, now, click here for a quick description of tonight's episode: The Human Spark, Episode Two "So Human, So Chimp", introduction (00:30)

If you can't tell already, it fascinated me. My favorite part was Chapter Four called "Chimps vs. Children". It turns out, in experiments on very, very young human children there is a distinct difference in how we learn and how we manifest what we've learned and how highly motivated we are to help other people (even people we don't know) vs. these qualities in our closest ancestor, chimps. Now, chimps learn just as quickly and effectively as children. And chimps "help" when asked to too. But the uber-fascinating difference is how eager human children are to help, and to help, even in ways they weren't asked to.

Btw, snide cynical me has to add that these experiments in order to accurately measure the true human impulse, has to be performed on young humans before we become suspicious, manipulative (not very much) older humans. And these very young humans portray an adorable, purely human, altruistic nature that, for once, makes me proud to be a Homo Sapien Sapien.

If you're inclined you can watch the entire 54:42 episode called "So Human, So Chimp". Or if you can spare 11:55 for just Chapter Four I promise you won't be sorry. Just click here and look for Chapter Four, "Chimps vs. Children", or zoom to 29:11 left in the episode: The Human Spark, Episode Two "So Human, So Chimp", full episode (54:42)

If you only have a couple of minutes to spare, indulge me and watch this quick 2:25 clip: The Human Spark, Episode Two "So Human, So Chimp", video excerpt "Chimps vs. Children" (2:26)

*****

So I go to bed tonight with all this whirling about in my puny hunter-gatherer brain. Do I want to be in Haiti helping out right now? NO. Do I know any Haitians? No. Can I relate to them? Not really. Do I even know where Haiti is? (beyond embarrassed to admit this) No. But somewhere deep in my cells, I guess that place where my ingenious, but faulty, DNA lies I feel unsettled. I feel an ancient throb, a dull ache. And I can only attribute it to one thing: that somewhere else on this tapestry, a hole has been viciously rent, this time not by human hands, just by circumstances even beyond our control.

Let's try to re-remember that human spark that is magnificent and that we never really outgrow, we just often forget about--that thing that makes us human, that makes us want to help as much as we possibly can even if you're a stranger, even if you live on the other side of the planet. Even if you're only a thread on the opposite sleeve.

Ad Nauseum

2010-01-12T13:22:00.003-05:00

Sad? Lonely?? Go Pick Up A DROID

2010-01-10T16:46:00.017-05:00

Yesterday I took Thing One to Verizon because his cell phone’s space-key doesn’t work anymore and the connection between his charger & phone has completely fizzled. He’s going back to school soon and his phone has become essentially worthless.

Remember Thing One goes to Virginia Tech? He’s enrolled in the School of Engineering, majoring in Computer Science, and has a 4.0 so far. Naturally I’m quite proud, even more relieved, and completely bamboozled as to where he gets his good sense from ……..

In any case, into the cell phone store yesterday, he & I traipse. I know that in some sly fashion, or else in a blatantly un-sly fashion (they don’t care!), I always get “had” at Verizon every time I cross its threshold. So I’m not nearly as enthused as Thing One is on this errand.

It’s been a rough week for me as many of you who have kindly sent your kind regards my way (I am so very appreciative, please know) are aware. I’m rather “just going through the motions” which is completely normal after a >four-year relationship comes to an end so let’s not indulge me too much. As a matter of fact, in the “things could be much worse” department, the morning after my sad-sack-last-post, I was off to work when I saw that a home in my neighborhood had gone up in flames!!!!!!!!! There’s crime scene tape everywhere and blackened, broken windows that have been wide open this whole 20 degree weather weekend, replete with singed draperies flapping in and out of the frigid breeze. Awful. From what I gather, no one was hurt and the stove had been left on. But seriously, in that light, I was humbled.

Still …..I’m sad.

But at Verizon I am cheerfully informed that my contract is up for renewal which means that I can buy a new phone at an insanely inflated price, but wait!! It’s a good deal because without the new contract the new phone costs $10 million dollars! So it’s a STEAL!!!!!!???

Now I’ve been happy with my nifty phone—it’s only two years old. It’s working fine and only shows signs of wear where the salt water literally “burned off” the pretty chrome parts when me & my book club girlfriends (Hi you guys!) were caught out in a hurricane-style, sudden thunderstorm one, initially, lovely summer evening at the beach this past August. Suffice to say it became a rather dripping wet keystone cops affair and we were quite lucky that we weren’t struck by lightening, and that in the end, it was only my pretty phone that gave away the rather insane aspects of the ordeal. (read: my phone spent the evening swimming around in the tidal pool created in my beach bag along with my sunscreen and sunglasses that naturally had been rendered completely useless by the current state of affairs—i.e. a hurricane). And naturally, as these brushes with danger go, we laughed ourselves silly when it was all over and broke open countless bottles of wine to celebrate our aliveness.

The salesman at Verizon began taking Thing One & I around the store on a tour of every inflated-priced phone they are currently offering (read: all of them). Now I have been mildly flirting with the idea of my next phone being a Smartphone; particularly since I started blogging in October and even more particularly since everyone else seems to be having so much fun Tweeting and me & my pretty phone just look at each other and say “Tweet” …what?

So I say to the salesman, what about this phone?

Long story short-ish, not only did I end up with the world’s currently most spectacular cell phone—YEP!!!! The Motorola DROID! But so did Thing One! (he used his own money) And he & I have been out of our minds obsessed with our new phones now for the past 32 hours!

Me & Thing One

I was playing with it in bed at 4:30 this morning and I got only approximately four hours of sleep last night.

I’ve had to fully charge it three times already—its only drawback-so far.

Thing One and I keep running through the house to tell each other about something new & amazing we just discovered our new phones do, or some ridiculous cool App we found. We’re texting & tweeting & emailing each other constantly. Did you know that all the smiley emoticons (there are like fifty different one’s right on the keyboard!) are smiley’s, but they’re little smiley DROIDS??????? Cute! (turns out you only see them as droids if you have a DROID, but who cares?!)

And the Apps!!!!!! OMG!!!!!!!! There’s an App to make your phone a vibrator!!! (no! I did not download that …) There’s an App, in case you don’t have a coin handy, for flipping a coin—it puts a virtual coin on your screen and with a flick of your wrist, it’s heads or tails!! There is a Fartdroid App that makes numerous different fart noises with names like “poot”, “ker-plop!”, “sqeeky”, and (ick) “rim shot”. I know this because I did download Fartdroid. The icon is the cutest little droid farting and I couldn’t resist it.

Oh there are really practical Apps too. How about the Google Places App, Thing One found? Which for any attraction, bank, bar, coffee shop, gas station, hotel, hospital, movie theater, parking lot, restaurant, shopping mall, & taxi stand, will alert you to it’s nearby existence and literally point the way! As if you would, in Frankenstein-with-a-divining-rod fashion, stumble your way there! But seriously, how cool!

I may have to write just a few more posts on the subject because I haven’t even touched on how hilarious the chasm is between the speed at which Thing One had his DROID up & humming along, already running fifty Apps, while I’m still quizzically turning my DROID over & over trying to find the “on” switch.

Needless to say, Thing One has been more helpful to me than I have been to him. (I did tell him about the Fartdroid App though)

And can you imagine poor Thing Two—who managed to lose his phone a year ago and then, quite fortunately under the circumstances, received a new one because it was such a pain in his mother’s a** that he didn’t have a phone anymore. Now his “new” phone is a year old and he is not eligible for a “new-new” phone. The shenanigans between Thing One & I this past day are about to make him, I’m guessing, puke. He now has to cope with merely owning a plain phone that was once the envy of Thing One’s eye (who couldn’t believe his brother lost a phone and then promptly gets it replaced with a new, cooler phone)(but I explained that already), but sadly one year later pales in comparison to our DROIDS. He's coping by playing non-stop Grand Theft Auto IV which I allowed him to use his own money to buy yesterday while I was in my “looky my new phone!” haze. I can hear it downstairs right now honking and crashing into guardrails and spewing out lots of bad words that I would normally not tolerate except I’m so in love with my new phone that I’m walking into walls instead of making sure my child is playing a more suitable game.

Overview:

Nothing soothes a broken heart better than a new cell phone.

Thing One and I have bonded over said phones and he’s a genius in the “technology" department to my “dunce-cap” level of knowledge in said department.

Thing Two has been spoiled in the past but is now paying the price by not having the coolest phone on the planet (anymore) and having to witness Thing One’s and my googly-eyed obsessions with our new phones. At least he has the consolation prize of being left alone with his violent, potty-mouthed X-Box game.

I’ll try not to write ad-nauseum too much more about DROID ….but it’s hard because there is so much more to tell and I admit, I focused too much today on the silliness and not enough on the many seriously respectable qualities of my new boyfriend.

And finally, definitely on a serious note, let’s pray for the nice people in the burned-out house and remind ourselves not to accidentally leave the stove on.

2010

2010-01-05T19:37:00.001-05:00

Award!

2010-01-03T23:47:00.012-05:00

Favorite Blog-Award!!

Thanks Kimberly, one of my favo bloggers, for giving me an award! I'm thrilled to pieces!! I am supposed to list Ten Favorite Things and Ten Favorite Bloggers. Fun!!! What a great way to start 2010--mulling over favorite things. Ok, here goes, neither list in any particular order:

Ten Favorite Things

1 .....Thing One and Thing Two of course!

Christmas Picture 2009--love those two nuts in santa hats!

Christmas Picture 2005--interesting study in contrast!

2 ......Steve, genius, bass-player boyfriend!

Nice hands ......just sayin'

3 .....on my first visit to San Francisco (where Steve lives), we were running errands in the city when he told me to close my eyes. I could feel him pull the car to the curb and park--then he told me to open my eyes! Now, at this point, I had seen all the major SF landmarks. As I'm sure you know San Francisco is an absurdly beautiful, vividly alive city. And I know this sounds stupid-dramatic but I immediately loved San Francisco with all my heart. As most of you know too, I am a mostly unpublished poet, so far, but I am a poet nonetheless. So when I opened my eyes, I was simultaneously stunned at his thoughtfulness and at my shocking lack of inquiring mind for this infamous SF landmark--since I had just six months prior submitted a paper about one of my top-poet idols who literally haunted this place and set the stage for the famous beat poets! (Kenneth Rexroth--we shall talk about him later) Why hadn't I thought of City Lights Books?? And truly, how dear it was that Steve had!!!

Note the banners ......picture taken shortly after the "Mission Accomplished" debacle

hee, hee

Note Steve ....incessantly on phone booking gigs and ......

Vesuvio's (yellow) next door to City Lights where the Beats would drink themselves silly into wee hours of the morning and subsequently write brillz (thanks Josh, lurv this word) poetry

Inside City Lights ......Poetry Room upstairs!

And finally .....nirvana=extremely favorite thing

4 .....the sweet smell of the grass, the sea, and silage (very stinky, fermenting "forage plants" (read "grass") that cows love) on the Sherman's Farm, Whidbey Island, Washington.

Ebey's Prairie
Yes, you may fling my ashes here some very distant day

5 .....going to sleep to the sound of waves on the beach.

Cherokee By Design

listen: YouTube--sleepy sounds of beach waves

6 .....the cutest ferret ever!

I know ....I can't believe I haven't mentioned Puck before!
This is darling Puck, our ferret, who will soon be the subject of my next Cast of Characters post.
Stay tuned!!

7 .....singing in the car. Ok believe it or not, I have no pictures of myself singing in the car. But I'm not joking about this ....i LOVE to sing and i LOVE to sing in the car the most!!! Make this little van white and that is me warbling that tune out the window. PS--interestingly this adorable quality drives musician-boyfriend crazy!!!! He swears (he does!) that it's not because I'm a bad singer .....but apparently a friend of his growing up used to sing in the car when Steve's mom & dad were driving and it embarrassed Steve that his friend was singing in front of Steve's parents??? Or some nonsense like that?!

Let me fill you all in on a little secret--professional musicians can be jerks about music to non-professionals. And weirdly lots of them do not like singers! Who knew??!! So I'm really into music and humbly feel that I'm rather hip about it (that just tells you right there that I'm not, but anyway) so it's a bummer when you love music, and your best "instrument" is your voice (I've been singing my head off since I was born), and your professional musician boyfriend can't stand singing! Especially in the car!! Which just tells me, the non-professional, that he's missing a music-link somewhere ......so there. La la la!

http://images.mileone.com/SARAH/Newsletter/September/sing_a_long.jpg

8 .....snow skiing. I heart snow skiing more than words can describe. I will just say that I am SO HAPPY when I'm skiing!

From a chair-lift at Snowshoe, West Virginia

(See the moon?)

9 .....Emily Blunt. My new super-favo actress!!!! Loved her huge in the most make you laugh--make you cry next, wonderful little movie this year called Sunshine Cleaning (it's out on DVD now). And just today!! Saw her in Young Victoria (if "Trailer" on website doesn't work, try "Video") ..........about Queen Victoria at the beginning of her reign in 1837 and she & Albert's unusually lovely marriage. Sigh. Two great movies!!!! One great actress!!

Emily Blunt in "Sunshine Cleaning"

Emily Blunt in "Young Victoria"

10 .....Starry night in a clear black sky very far away from civilization.

There are more stars than you ever knew existed!!!!!! It makes you feel small. It makes you feel large. It makes you feel profound. It is one of my most favorite things but there's not a picture alive that can do it justice. Just imagine being outside with no man-made light for miles, in the dark, looking up at the black sky punctuated by zillions of stars .....the sight of which takes your breath away.

*****

Ten (Fifteen!) Favorite Blogs

Oh it's too hard to narrow them to ten .....but these fifteen, so far, are my regular happy reads!

365 Days Of Sun and Terra Del Sole (Thanks again Kimberly for the award!)

Glimpse - Jeanine Payer's Jewelry Blog
The Maaaaa of Pricilla
Let's Have A Cocktail
Lick The Bowl Good
Misadventures With Andi
Josh Is Trashy
i am bossy
Feeding Five For Fifty
Are You There God? It's Me, Generation X
The Pioneer Woman
Quiet Life
my hidden muse
Under The Sheets Shhh

Best Post Script Ever!

2009-12-31T12:16:00.005-05:00

Herein amends a good story to
........ahem .......
the best story ever!!!

(quite possibly)

Best post script

(at least)

ever!!!!

(surely)

And I shall make it a game!

To begin you must read (or re-read) this, one of my first blog posts from waaaay back in October:

Why "You Must Take Your Chance"?

*****

Ok now, see if you can unravel yesterday's turn-of-events, shown here in pictures:

Yesterday

duh

My doorbell!!

What's this??

It's from Jeanine Payer ....?

Umm ......???

Oh .......

(tears in eyes)

******

Can't speak. Can't write.

Except to say, this came as a gift yesterday,

from Jeanine .....after she read my October post.

Happy New Year everyone!

(be kind to one another)

Thank-you Jeanine ....for being kind to me

Jeanine Payer

Jeanine's blog "Glimpse"

Santa I see you

2009-12-24T00:00:00.015-05:00

The Polar Express, the first gift of Christmas

It's not even a full memory; it's just a vague knowledge that I never liked to sit on Santa's lap. I don't remember crying but my mom figured it out early on, and consequently, there's not one picture of me sitting on Santa's lap in all the boxes of photographs my parents took of us growing up.

I was uncomfortable because I knew Santa, the one we saw in the department stores and on the streets, was not the real Santa.

There was the Santa with black eyebrows at Sears & Roebucks. So, what about the Santa at Neiman Marcus ......who had white eyebrows? What about the Santa ringing the bell--with the real beard??? And how could Santa go from wrinkly to smooth to wrinkly?? And from tall to short? And fat to thin? In the same day?

There was one time when I saw the real Santa ......and it is a story that I will never forget.

It was Christmas Eve and we lived in Kingsville, Texas at the time. My bed was next to the window and Lisa was asleep in her bed next to mine. I was five and a half. Lisa was four and a half. Of course it was winter, but even the winters in Texas can get cold. I remember the windowpane, not ice-cold as in C. C. Moore's 'Twas The Night Before Christmas, but cold, and after awhile it made my fingers and my nose too cold to stay pressed there. I had to settle for hovering as close to the window as I could without fogging the pane. And I guarantee, if you go back and look it up, on December 24th, 1966; it was either a full moon or quite close because the moonlight over Texas that night lit everything in a blue-white glow.

And then I heard the bells. I saw the moon glinting off of them way up in the sky! I saw Santa's reindeer pulling the sleigh with their legs swimming gracefully. Swimming. Gracefully. I distinctly remember that. Graceful, but with purpose. And then I saw Santa's red coat! He was too far away to see anything other than that bright red speck in the sleigh. But he was coming and he was in the sky above my house!! I quickly laid down and pulled up the covers ........and waited.

Before too long, I heard reindeer hooves on the roof!! And then I thought I heard some rustling and a creak of the door, because in that house we didn't have a fireplace. Lisa and I were very concerned about not having a chimney, but mom & dad assured us that Santa knew how to get to children's stockings who live in houses without chimneys. And then, after more rustling, a long period of nothing.

I woke Lisa up and we tip-toed out to the living room where all four stockings, now fat and lumpy, were hanging off corners of various chairs. We couldn't believe how loud the slightest noise made! Lisa pulled the string on the doll that Santa had left her "MY MOMMY SAYS I TALK TOO MUCH!" Sssshhhhhhhh .........we looked at each other panic-stricken! We didn't want to wake up mom & dad. They wouldn't be happy if they knew we saw everything Santa had left us, before Christmas morning. But we had! Our hearts were pounding in our chests. Santa had just been here!

*****

I've never gotten over the sureness that I saw Santa through the window that night. I was recently reminded of this one evening while making dinner. The Polar Express was on TV. With my back to the TV, chopping carrots, I heard Tom Hanks the conductor of The Polar Express tell the boy in the story:

"Sometimes the most real things in the world are the things we can't see ...”

My wish to you tonight is for a full surrender of adult reasoning, and for a child's innate embrace of what is really real even if you can't see it ...........remember?

Merry Christmas Eve! And Lisa? I love you.

We Human Beings

2009-12-22T09:08:00.006-05:00

I was just getting ready for work ......it's three days before Christmas .......and my mind was occupied not with what I still have to do (which is plenty but I'm only going to do what I can do; am seriously not sweating the small stuff this year), but my mind was busy instead, with thinking how lucky I am to have so many wonderful, amazing, loving people in my life .....

To all of you who I know, a simple thank-you doesn't seem enough--but I am grateful to each and every one of you. I am ridiculously happy that you are a part of my life and I count myself lucky that we have "encountered" one another!

To those of you who I don't know, well I can't wait to meet you!!!

Happy holidays everyone. Don't sweat small stuff. Love one another--we're our best presents.

Cartoon Saturday #4

2009-12-18T21:06:00.005-05:00

Holiday Theme!

Thoughts: am incredibly tired--just got back from quick two-day trip to/from Virginia Tech to to bring Thing One home for Christmas (six hours each way); am showing great restraint by posting only one Tiger Woods cartoon--there are millions; am stretching holiday theme to include polar bears & penguins (they both live in cold places similar to the north pole=Christmas!) because have been trying to fit in hilarious Gary Larson cartoon that cracks me up for weeks now ...

And finally ....

Little Tree

2009-12-17T12:33:00.001-05:00

Little Tree

little tree

little silent Christmas tree

you are so little

you are more like a flower

who found you in the green forest

and were you very sorry to come away?

see i will comfort you

because you smell so sweetly

i will kiss your cool bark

and hug you safe and tight

just as your mother would,

only don't be afraid

look the spangles

that sleep all the year in a dark box

dreaming of being taken out and allowed to shine,

the balls the chains red and gold the fluffy threads,

put up your little arms

and i'll give them all to you to hold

every finger shall have its ring

and there won't be a single place dark or unhappy

then when you're quite dressed,

you'll stand in the window for everyone to see

and how they will stare!

oh but you'll be very proud

and my little sister and i will take hands

and looking up at our beautiful tree

we'll dance and sing

"Noel Noel"

--e. e. cummings

Happy Birthday Thing Two!!

2009-12-14T13:59:00.016-05:00

Today is Thing Two's 16th birthday! Happy birthday honey. I love you! Oh, to be sixteen again ..........

not a kid--not an adult, driver's license! (fun ...but scary), bad skin, parents not understanding you, YOU not understanding you, teachers not as "nice" as they used to be, curfews, self-conscious--about everything, everyone bugging you about college--already, life in a fishbowl, bad grades? no concerts!, heartbreak (multiple) ......

Note to self: be nice to Thing Two this year.

Real Joys

2009-12-12T13:49:00.007-05:00

from knockknockstuff.com

All right, in the same vein as yesterday's Scroogy post, but on a lighter note .....I happened to pick up this little gem the other day from a gift shop on Colley Avenue here in Norfolk, VA, called Texture. It's owned by a very cool artist/businesswoman, Gail Juren, and her shop is filled with all sorts of imaginative, helpful, interesting, beautiful, hilarious stuff. This little book being one of them ....

(You can also get it from knockknockstuff.com which has multitudes of hip, very funny gift ideas that are definitely worth checking out): http://www.knockknock.biz/

Back to the vein of things, at the end of Holiday Remarks & Replies (Pithy Proclamations For Correspondence, Entertaining, Shopping, Gift Giving, Loved Ones, & The Scrooge Within) are some quotes from Famous Scrooges which had me rolling around on the floor in true LMAOOTF style! Enjoy!!

*****

"Merry Christmas, nearly everybody!" --Ogden Nash

"Christmas begins about the first of December with an office party and ends when you finally realize what you spent, around April fifteenth of the next year." --P. J. O'Rourke

"A lovely thing about Christmas is that it's compulsory, like a thunderstorm, and we all go through it together." --Garrison Keillor

"Nothing says holidays like a cheese log." --Ellen DeGeneres

"Aren't we forgetting the true meaning of Christmas? You know, the birth of Santa." --Matt Groening

"What I don't like about office Christmas parties is looking for a job the next day." --Phyllis Diller

"I stopped believing in Santa Claus when I was six. Mother took me to see him in a department store and he asked for my autograph." --Shirley Temple

"Most Texans think Hanukkah is some sort of duck call." --Richard Lewis

"Adults can take a simple holiday for children and screw it up. What began as a presentation of simple gifts to delight and surprise children around the Christmas tree has culminated in a woman opening up six shrimp forks from her dog, who drew her name." --Erma Bombeck

And finally, Mr. Emerson, who says what I was trying to say yesterday, only much more eloquently not to mention succinctly .............

"You will think me very pedantic, gentlemen, but holiday though it may be, I have not the smallest interest in any holiday, except as it celebrates real and not pretended joys." --Ralph Waldo Emerson

*****

So dear readers, my wish for you ....may your holidays be filled to the brim with real joys and totally devoid of pretended ones!!

Not Really Bah! Hum-bug!!

2009-12-11T15:29:00.032-05:00

(Jim Carrey, as the miserly Ebenezer Scrooge, in this year's

reincarnation of A Christmas Carol)

And so begins what will likely be a very unpopular post but it's been nagging at me and I simply must write about it. Note Scrooge .....put here 1) to beat you to the punch and 2) to indicate that I am aware I'm about to come across as Scrooge's modern day great-great-scroogy-grand-child.

George F. Will's recent column in The Washington Post called "The gift of not giving - Solid proof that Uncle Ralph wasted his money" was the first impetus in my thought-process for this post. And a conversation I had with a respected friend yesterday was my second.

No, I take that back .........for some years now I've been struck ........ as I'm scrounging around store after store, after battling tedious traffic, after valiantly scoring a parking space ten miles from the mall--that while my mission is to find the perfect second, third, fourth, & even more (don't forget stocking stuffers!) presents for the same person (like you do for your children & your spouse & other close family & friends? I totally know you do it too!!), that our Christmastime gift-giving tradition has become insanely stressful, not to mention ridiculous. Whatever happened to ONE nice thoughtful gift at Christmas? And Hanukkah for that matter. Although, and I speak here from experience, at least Hanukkah has maintained a modicum of rationality in the gift-giving department and a primary allegiance to the religious reason it exists.

So that was my first impetus, Mr. Will's column my second, and the conversation with respected friend, third. Three compelling impetuses (that is a word--I looked it up) equals one potentially controversial, may turn you off, not usually done in the nice little blogosphere I wander around in, post. But try to retain an open mind as I postulate .......

I've explained my first revelation about buying sackfuls of presents for each person on your list. Now for Mr. Will's column:

http://www.washingtonpost.com/wp-dyn/content/article/2009/11/25/AR2009112502653.html .

The gist is "...the crux of Yuletide economics which common sense suggests and research confirms, is: Gifts that people buy for other people are usually poorly matched to the recipients' preferences. What the recipients would willingly pay for the gifts is usually less than the givers paid."

Eminent professor at the University of Pennsylvania Wharton business school, Joel Waldfogel, author of "Scroogenomics: Why You Shouldn't Buy Presents for the Holidays" is cited in Will's column as saying that in his "conservative estimate (sic) in 2007, Americans spent $66 billion on gifts and produced $12 billion less satisfaction than would have been produced if the recipients had spent the $66 billion on themselves." In other words, a well respected study found that we wasted approximately $12 billion in 2007 on homely sweaters and hideous ties.

And we all know the feeling, don't we? When you receive that gift where your first thought is OMG! What were you thinking? Don't you know me?? Don't you love me??? Replaced hopefully asap with, well I know they meant well ...smile nice so they know that I ~~hate it~~ like it!! Add all these collective experiences up, and according to Mr. Waldfogel, it equals $12 billion. I'm surprised it's not more actually. Although honestly once I get to a paltry $1 billion, I begin to lose perspective on that amount of money. So times that by twelve.

Oh, reading further, George says it much more hilariously than me: "Christmas etiquette involves composing one's face to feign pleasure when unwrapping an unwelcome windfall--say a sweater of an applling color and a style that went out in the 1940s--and murmering "Oh, you shouldn't have" without revealing that you mean exactly that. Price of the sweater: $50. Value to recipient: $0. Actually, less than zero, considering the psychological cost of the forced smile."

Now, on to revelatory conversation with friend yesterday who commented that, really, he just loves having all his loved one's gathered together to "laugh & scratch" (I added that--one of my dad's best expressions) for awhile, have a great meal together, and tell everyone how much you love them.

(Not in a weird embarrassing way--in a lovely memorable way) (Do we even know how to do that?)

Now reread that and think about it for a minute. It might seem lame upon the first run-through, and you might wonder how is that any different than Thanksgiving? But if you keep thinking about it, at least for me, it becomes much, much more appealing. It's so real & genuine. And think how much less stress is involved?! And as far as Thanksgiving goes, we gather then to be thankful, yes .....it is a uniquely American holiday .......and surely it's implied that we all love each other in November, but the big push seems to be thankfulness and Yay for America! unity. And eating of course.

So I'm not advocating a new, total hardcore no-presents-sit-around-the-tree-and-stare-at-each-other Christmas tradition. But this I know: the current economy is hard on everyone, everywhere, and we've learned our gift-buying habits at Christmastime are largely a mind-boggling waste of money; we all know that almost everything we really want we can't ask for (unless someone out there is willing to buy me a new laptop with a nice big hard drive and a giant screen?); and this most especially .......we simply don't tell each other we love them enough. In my opinion, I think we use gifts too much to do that job.

Like all the wine & cheese I sent every single Christmas to my uncle and my aunt, both of whom passed away this year, probably was not as meaningful as if I had sincerely told them, even one time, 'I really love you and you've been an important part of my life'.

I know! I know! You're thinking, I tell ~~certain~~ people that I love them all the time! But, speaking for myself, of all the people who currently people and in the past have-peopled my life, who I really and truly love and loved--I've not told the vast majority of them that simple fact. And I don't think I'm alone in that regard.

Despite the profoundly religious reason we celebrate Christmas, whether we like it or not, Christmas has morphed into a lot more. Some good. But a lot bad. I'm just thinking ......I'm going cut down on the bad parts and focus more on the good parts. (Thing One and Thing Two must be having a fit right now!)(Don't worry T1 & T2)

So dear friends in my life and dear family and dear anybody else, when I tell you how much I love you this Christmas, don't feel uncomfortable, just feel good and remember it for the rest of your life. You'll get a gift too, but according to the experts, it will probably make you feel bad and you'll be hopefully forgetting about it as soon as I walk out the door and you toss it in the trash!

It's SITSmas!

2009-12-08T00:29:00.005-05:00

Holiday Wreath in Colonial Williamsburg

Williamsburg, VA

December 6, 2009

Merry SITSmas SITStas!

Happy Holidays

Each And Every One Of You!

2009

Hi All! Today is Merry SITSmas Day over at The Secret is in The Sauce (SITS) ....the SITStas! SITS is an incredibly dynamic website dedicated to helping bloggers find and support one another. Normally we link from The Secret is in The Sauce but today for Merry SITSmas all the SITStas make a special holiday card on their own blog that is linked back to SITS! There are prizes on the hour, every hour, all day long.

Click on The Secret is in The Sauce button below...we're overflowing with happy holiday spirit!

Sometimes I Need A Caveman

2009-12-07T01:38:00.015-05:00

I cast myself as the "modern, no nonsense, (invisibly) Z-snapping woman". If I do say so myself.

I take no guff from no guy. I tell him immediately, loudly if necessary, when I know he's behaving badly. And at my medium-age (refuse to say middle-age--"medium-age" much better), I know every guy-trick in the book and may, possibly, be rather jaded. All the boys and men in my life know not to cross me, but of course they do because they're guys, and when it happens they hear about it.

Hmmph. After re-reading, am now thinking of re-casting myself as the "b*tch"!

So it pained me greatly when like an uninvited guest, a certain epiphany, knocked on my door last week. It was actually not a horrible week--I had one night when I couldn't sleep, but I've more than made that up. So what, then?

#1 Scenario involving guy friend who I've known since we were both 14 years-old--I'm not too good when something not-good happens unexpectedly.

Most people probably aren't great at dealing with the unexpected but I'm pretty sure I'm worse than most. And this not-good thing that happened wasn't even that bad! But it hit me wrong for fifty reasons and I reacted quickly and I got pretty upset. It all went down in a "texting-storm":

me: I am REALLY not happy with you ....call me!

him: Can't talk now. Why are you so upset? You act like this was a life threatening event!

me: You could have at least told me about it! It's worse than you're making it! You promised me you would always tell me if something like this happened. I'm so far away ....(sniff)

him: Ugh! I'll try harder but you need to calm down please.

"You need to calm down (space)(space)(space) please?" "You'll try?" I instantly did as I was told and calmed down! All it took was that "space-space-space please" and I'm fine with you dragging me in my mini-leopard dress into the cave!!!!!!!

#2 Scenario involving boyfriend--I'm tired of fighting with adorable, annoying musician boyfriend who lives on the complete other side of the country.

We haven't seen each other since June which is just too long for a couple to be apart. Of course long-distance relationships are far from ideal and this one is suffering under the circumstances. So the other day we were bickering over something I don't even remember now, and he announces that:

"We are going to be ONLY NICE to each other for two weeks! No resentments. No annoying behavior. And if either of us is resentful or annoying, the other one has to ignore it. For two weeks!"

Simple, huh? Will it work? Probably not. But it might! And man! Boy. Have I been nice ever since!! And it's nice ......drag me into the cave and ravish me now, will you?

So what's the deal???? Why is a strong, clear-headed woman folding so easily and letting a (cave)man take charge? I don't know. But I know I'm tired of being in charge of everything, all the time. And I know I'm not right about everything even though I believe I am, most of the time. #1 scenario--you were right that I was overreacting and you told me politely. And you didn't make it worse by getting mad too. Sensitive, respectful, & calm. Thank-you. #2 scenario--you were right that I have not been very nice for awhile and since you took charge and came up with a plan, I will genuinely give it a go. Plus I love you.

Sigh.

The epiphany: every now and then ....especially when I'm behaving badly ....I just need a caveman.

Can't Sleep ...

2009-12-03T05:01:00.009-05:00

IT'S 4:55 IN THE MORNING and i can't sleep .......

So am composing check-list style letter to my life.

Think this is going to be a good day to get lost & go crazy!

(and sleep)

Post-It Note Tuesday #3

2009-12-01T15:20:00.004-05:00

Poetry Girl Sunday #5

2009-11-29T14:01:00.008-05:00

A few songs on my playlist come from the "Bridget Jones's Diary" soundtrack I bought after I first saw "Bridget Jones's Diary" shortly after I read "Bridget Jones's Diary" (!!!)

Listening to them has made me realize I hadn't seen it for a long time, so last night Thing Two & I watched "Bridget Jones's Diary".

Thing Two--my almost sixteen year-old headbanger--remember? The one who listens to his iPod in the car with ear-pieces firmly-in-ears because he can't stand the music I listen to ....in all fairness I'm not keen on whatever-metal-band-with-some-word-referring-to-death-in-its-name that he's listening to either.

So he shocked me by asking if he could watch it with me. During the movie we both laughed our heads off. BOTH of us, not just me. I've always related to Bridget. What woman doesn't? But I realized, watching my too-cool-for-school teenager as he laughed at Bridget in her ridiculous moments and quietly felt for her in her painful ones, that we ALL relate to her.

Doesn't it always come to this? Don't we all just want to hear that people, in particular that certain "top person" ..............that they like us "just as we are"?? In all our ugliness & shortcomings & failures??? That they see also our beauty & our strengths & our moments of grace?

Van Morrison, Someone Like You

Mark Darcy: I like you, very much.

Bridget: Ah, apart from the smoking and the drinking, the vulgar mother and... ah, the verbal diarrhea.

Mark Darcy: No, I like you very much. Just as you are.

Mark Darcy: I don't think you're an idiot at all. I mean, there are elements of the ridiculous about you. Your mother's pretty interesting. And you really are an appallingly bad public speaker. And, um, you tend to let whatever's in your head come out of your mouth without much consideration of the consequences... But the thing is, um, what I'm trying to say, very inarticulately, is that, um, in fact, perhaps despite appearances, I like you, very much. Just as you are.

We all crave that kind of love. Don't we?

*****

No Amount Of Money

would I take

to sell away

the bowl of peach

blossoms, the snowy-

owl feather, the strands of hair you

tucked behind my ear,

the blunt stare

when I looked

which unnerved me but
sent small aches

to my toes and my fingers

and the tops of my ears--

the brush-moment

your rough hand cupped

my rib cage,

or the first kiss.

--LGW

Cartoon Saturday #3

2009-11-28T13:50:00.014-05:00

On my hour-long "over the river and through the woods" drive to my parents house for Thanksgiving, I turned on the radio and happened upon this show, "The Gathering: A Modern Day Thanksgiving Story" hosted by Blair Brown on National Public Radio. Here's a link if you'd like to check it out: http://www.peacetalksonline.org/thegathering.htm

I wasn't sure if I was in the mood for a talk show ...I'm more inclined to listen to music in the car ....but on this day, Thanksgiving, the subject matter of the show became more interesting than any music I might listen to. In a nutshell, The Gathering is about the glaring disconnect between the traditional ideals for which Thanksgiving was established and the way we continue to conduct our society in the face of many of those ideals. Specifically, how we have treated and continue to treat the Native Americans who are a vital part of the Thanksgiving tapestry not to mention the Humanity tapestry.

The Gathering however is very constructive and very uplifting. It is an enlightened, civilized endeavor. I went back to find how Blair Brown closed the show because my mind keeps wanting to remember it:

"As we gather this Thanksgiving with family, neighbors, & friends, we should acknowledge that we've fallen short of the ideals we celebrate of tolerance, diversity, and community." ....

(those three words)(slay me)

...."The work of The Gathering should inspire us to recognize, however, that they are the right ideals and that we must work toward their fulfillment. Not just every fourth Thursday in November, but every day of the year."

*****

Oh yeah, but this is Cartoon Saturday! So ta-da! ......I also "happened" across a couple of perfectly perfect cartoons for the occasion!

And same song, different verse ......

Happy Thanksgiving .....where's the cake?

2009-11-26T12:07:00.016-05:00

Monica's Burnt Sugar Cake

http://lickthebowlgood.blogspot.com/

“Ok, here's the Thanksgiving menu so far: apple pie, pumpkin pie, blueberry tart, and ice-cream roll. What am I missing?... Cake. We need cake.” Grace Adler, Will & Grace

Somewhere in blogland, I read that one blogger channels Lucy & Ethel. (Pioneer Woman, I think?) This is how well I set priorities; ever since, I've been devoting more brain power than I care to admit to wondering who in TV land I channel so that I can report it to all of you in blogland.

I wish I channeled Lucy & Ethel. I would love to be so ditzy and adorable. Except me-Lucy & Ethel would be spending every show plotting ways to kill all Ricky Ricardo male chauvinist pig-types who cross our paths (which is a lot, if you recall); not cramming our faces with chocolate at the candy factory or stalking innocent washing machine repairmen in our Sherlock Holmes get-ups just to get them to come to our apartments to fix our washing machines first.

My friends would say I channel Phoebe from Friends but even they--on second thought--know that despite the fact they can totally see me strumming "Smelly Cat" in the coffee shop, I'm just plain bitchier (but only rarely and only at extremely provoked, very understandable moments).

No, I'm Grace. Slightly bitchy now & then, almost always overwhelmed, overly sensitive, brain-addled Grace Adler--that's me.

And my wonderful parents have underscored that new epiphany by requiring that all I need to provide for Thanksgiving dinner at their house today, is dessert. And yet I'm still overwhelmed ....sigh. ~~Oh, not really.~~ Well slightly ....

Write back and tell me who YOU channel! I want to hear!!

Happy Thanksgiving everyone! Don't be overwhelmed! Don't be bitchy! Just eat!!

Love you, Grace

PS--The beautiful cake above was baked and photographed and blogged about by the exremely talented Monica over at Lick The Bowl Good. Take a moment to check-out her delicious food blog and her darling pets Autumn (doggie) & August (bunny) at: http://lickthebowlgood.blogspot.com/
Thanks Monica for letting me use your pic!

Post-It Note Tuesday #2

2009-11-24T10:37:00.002-05:00

Poetry Girl Sunday #4

2009-11-22T14:03:00.010-05:00

I have lost two dear family members this year.   I am 48. Although it is not the sole domain of my age group--it is a fact of life that the older we get the more people who have mattered in our lives will die.

We humans have a hard time completely grasping death. In my uncle's case, I hadn't seen him for years. Yet his death affected me greatly. I found myself wondering if he had any idea what he really meant to me? He was an engineer who helped develop the tiles that kept the Apollo capsules from becoming fireballs as they reentered the Earth's atmosphere. He was a curious-minded inventor. He was a fun uncle. He always got down on our level, literally. There's a picture of my sister & I, we look like we're four & five at the time, on the floor with Omar. He's showing us something--one of us is pointing excitedly. We're all three enraptured by the excitment of it all.

When my boys were approximately the same ages as Lisa & I had been, Mil & Omar came for a visit. At one point I couldn't find anyone. Finally I heard noises in the downstairs coat closet. Omar had the boys in there showing them something you could see only in the dark. Now, I ask you, if you heard a story about a woman's uncle who had her two little boys in the closet with him, what would you think? But now that you know Omar, you know. The piece of titanium alloy that he brought all the way from Los Angeles, just to show the boys, still sits in a place of honor on Thing One's dresser.

Omar was married to my mom's sister. We all knew that Omar was the most brilliant member of the family--the family he married in to.  In a cruel twist, Omar spent the last ten years of his life losing his mind to something like Alzheimer's. I never knew exactly what it was. It didn't matter. When he died in June on Father's Day, I hadn't seen him for nearly six years. My every day existence was not going to miss him. But did he know how much I loved him? Why didn't I just tell him that, emphatically if necessary, before the end?

Death is so strange. One second you're there like you've always been. The next you're not.

Speaking for myself, I'm not very good at remembering this as I'm caught up in the throes of regular day-to-day living.  I take for granted that you are always going to be a breathing, heart-beating influence in my life. Plus I tend to dwell, stew, on the things and the people and the things about the people that bother me--and often, I have no doubt, I am quite right to be bothered by them.  But when you're gone and it's all over, what is left has little to do with those things I spent so much time stewing on.

I'm going to leave you with two poems today that may seem a little disparate, but if you give them time to simmer together perhaps they will become good food for thought as we gather with our loved ones for Thanksgiving this week.

Those Winter Sundays

Sundays too my father got up early
and put his clothes on in the blueblack cold,
then with cracked hands that ached
from labor in the weekday weather made
banked fires blaze. No one ever thanked him.

I'd wake and hear the cold splintering, breaking.
When the rooms were warm, he'd call,
and slowly I would rise and dress,
fearing the chronic angers of that house,

Speaking indifferently to him,
who had driven out the cold
and polished my good shoes as well.
What did I know, what did I know
of love's austere and lonely offices?
                                  --Robert Hayden

from To Lou Andreas-Salome

.....For I don't think back; all that I am
stirs me because of you. I don't invent you
at sadly cooled-off places from which
you've gone away; even your not being there
is warm with you and more real and more
than a privation. Longing leads out too often
into vagueness. Why should I cast myself,
when, for all I know, your influence falls on me,
gently, like moonlight on a window seat.
                                   Duino, late autumn 1911
                                   --Rainier Maria Rilke

Cartoon Saturday #2

2009-11-21T12:03:00.012-05:00

Picking on Sarah Palin today! .......OH SO EASY ........

As Mr. Darcy inquired of Elizabeth Bennet in Pride and Predjudice, "Are you so severe upon your own sex as to doubt the possibility of all this?" I shall delicately twist dear Lizzy's retort and say this, "I never saw such a woman. I never saw such (in)capacity, and (bad) taste, and (poor) application, and (in)elegance, as you describe united."

This post is dedicated to my Mr. Darcy friends (you know who you are) who love to taunt me about that thing from Alaska.

I once heard a commentator refer to her speech pattern as a "Word Salad" .....I thought, now that is an analogy worthy of the analogy-academy-awards! Perfect. And this cartoon perfectly captures the tossed salad.

THE END

Golden Blogroll

2009-11-19T17:17:00.006-05:00

Yay! I've been blogging a month now (almost). Day after tomorrow.

I think this is gonna stick!  I'm not always the best at sticking with things .....but some things I stick to like super-glue! I think blogging might be super-glue for me!!

I never read a blog before I started writing a blog so I was clueless about blogging when I started.  In the meantime I've come across lots & lots of blogs.  Let me say this: there are an incredible number of extremely talented people out there in Blog Land.  It's intimidating.

The business at hand: for the one-month anniversary of this blog, I'm launching my Golden Blogroll. It's gonna reside in the Right Side-Bar (it's there now ....go check it out!) and it's going to showcase my, so far, all-time super-favorite blogs.  These are the blogs that intimidate me the most. That said, if you're on my Golden Blogroll, don't get a big head because that's something else I love about each and every one of you--your total humbleness.

Dear readers, I encourage you to check these blogs out .....and when you do ......please leave them a comment that I love them. Maybe, then, they will be my friend?? hee hee I'm really not that pathetic. ~~Yes she is.~~ No I'm not!! ~~Yes you are .........~~

Post-It Note Tuesday

2009-11-17T17:58:00.002-05:00

"Lindsay's Waxy"

2009-11-16T15:14:00.004-05:00

You know when you leave a comment on some blogs, or if you're ordering concert tickets, or other computer situations I can't think of at the moment--and you have to re-type the crazy made-up word or phrase they've left for you or else you can't proceed because you might be some evil computer trying to leave an evil comment or evilly purchase a ticket???

I know, it's a SPAM buster. But lately I've noticed some of those made-up words are a riot. (see title--yep! I got that one yesterday!)

Have decided am starting list of the best one's I get and will use them as character's names, or character's foibles, or character's sexually transmitted diseases in future as yet unwritten, not-thought-about-much-yet novel.

And, in addition, will create occasional blog feature called "Lindsay's Waxy" in honor of the first evil-computer-made-up-word-thingy that gave me the idea ....

I have already rejected several plain, dumb, or boring words or phrases. My list will be comprised of only the most startling, odd words that possess a certain aplomb which enables them to roll off the tongue like they're totally legitimate words that have been pillars in Mr. Webster's dictionary since the first edition.

And then, too, it will be fun to comment (your job) on how best, in your opinion, it would be to use that word or phrase. For example:

Lindsay's Waxy --could be "the name of Lindsay's new hairless lip" (vs. Lindsay's Whisker) or --"the dog breed that Lindsay created with two superb water dogs" or --maybe "The Town of Lindsay's do-it-yourself car wash"?

See? Fun!

For this publication, I am also including a few other worthy Lindsay's Waxy "words":

Squite (a proper noun/name I presume?)

ington' klimpt (notice apostrophe!)

Leave funny comments and/or leave me some of your own favorite Lindsay's Waxy words ...we can laugh ourselves sliptVulv out of our wywoos!!!

Postscript

2009-11-15T23:07:00.000-05:00

Between the big picture at the top of my blog, and the picture in Sandbridge I posted earlier today in Poetry Girl #3--is simply 15 miles and 1 month & 2 days. That's all.

Cool huh? Scary and comforting at once. Whatever higher power there is, it is awsome.

Poetry Girl Sunday #3

2009-11-15T14:58:00.016-05:00

Heavy surf from the nor'easter makes its way up the beach access steps late in the afternoon in Sandbridge, Nov. 12, 2009. (L. Todd Spencer|The Virginian-Pilot)

O it has been a week--yesterday's paper screamed "NOR'BEASTER", today it bleats "It's Intense". As I write this morning, it is sunny ...the not-proverbial "calm after the storm". My little southeastern corner of Virginia has been battered by a sneak-attack Nor'easter now dubbed by our dazed commentators as The November Nor'easter. "...Of ALL Time!" it seems like they want to add but they don't in case it comes off as too dramatic. Even though it was dramatic.

I drove north to Washington D.C. in the midst of it. A three to four hour drive.

This part of Virginia is home to the cities/towns of Chesapeake/Virginia Beach/Norfolk/Portsmouth/Suffolk--all crowded together into an area we commonly refer to as "Tidewater" or "Hampton Roads". Some of us know the origins of these two toponyms, most of us don't. In fact ever since I've lived here for the past twenty-five years, a slow-burning controversy that flares up now & then simmers about what to call this place.

The point is that this part of Virginia was getting clobbered by the storm and, as life goes, something else was going on too--my aunt was being laid to rest in Washington D.C. Despite the storm, I had to get myself and Thing 2 up there. So we went. We drove on through slanting rain and wind gusts up to 60 mph.  There was debris flying through the air, littering the road, battering my poor, but stalwart Honda Odyssey. Mostly by pure luck, partly by good reflexes I narrowly missed a large tree that suddenly appeared out of the chaos, lying across the interstate.

Odyssey n., pl. -seys 1. A long adventurous voyage or trip. 2. An intellectual or spiritual quest. [After the ODYSSEY.]

How appropriate.

I had relatives flying and driving to DC for Meme's service and my mom & dad drove the same path I did from Williamsburg, Virginia (an hour NW of Tidewater).  But it was that hour that made all the difference. The whole eastern seaboard had rain and wind but it was Tidewater that got the Nor'easter's particular wrath and I had to get out of Tidewater. Hence they all looked at me rather flabbergasted when I arrived, appearing wide-eyed and announcing that my "odyssey" had been "brutal". (I didn't really use the word "odyssey" but I did use the word "brutal") Even Thing 2 looked at me askance because despite the buffeting rage of that first hour, he had slept through most of it.

I realized I had to put my white-knuckled, heart-hammering trip behind me and get down to the business of grieving for my dear aunt, and comforting, and being comforted by, dear relatives and friends. It may in fact happen in the brain but this shift of emotions feels like it happens in the heart. It is the heart that is confused and it is the brain telling the heart to get on with it. It is now. And now I find myself in the quiet bowels of an appropriately somber administrative building at Arlington National Cemetery refereeing this internal wrestling match as we gather and prepare to say good-bye to a life that has been a part of our lives.

It occurs to me that whether we care to admit it or not, life is dramatic and can be likened certainly to a long, adventurous voyage or trip that is certainly an intellectual, spiritual quest.

And my heart is saying, "Back off brain! Leave me alone and let me feel for a little while".  Just let me feel it all ....

The Lives Of The Heart

Are ligneous, muscular, chemical.
Wear birch-colored feathers,
green tunnels of horse-tail reed.
Wear calcified spirals, Fibonaccian spheres.
Are edible; are glassy; are clay; blue schist.
Can be burned as tallow, as coal,
can be skinned for garnets, for shoes.
Cast shadows or light;
shuffle; snort; cry out in passion.
Are salt, are bitter,
tear sweet grass with their teeth.
Step silently into blue needle-fall at dawn.
Thrash in the net until hit.
Rise up as cities, as serpentined magma, as maples,
hiss lava-red into the sea.
Leave the strange kiss of their bodies
in Burgess Shale. Can be found, can be lost,
can be carried, broken, sung.
Lie dormant until they are opened by ice,
by drought. Go blind in the service of lace.
Are starving, are sated, indifferent, curious, mad.
Are stamped out in plastic, in tin.
Are stubborn, are careful, are slipshod,
are strung on the blue backs of flies
on the black backs of cows.
Wander the vacant whale-roads, the white thickets
heavy with slaughter.
Wander the fragrant carpets of alpine flowers.
Not one is not held in the arms of the rest, to blossom.
Not one is not given to ecstasy's lions.
Not one does not grieve.
Each of them opens and closes, closes and opens
the heavy gate--violent, serene, consenting, suffering it all.
--Jane Hirshfield

Meme's Hollywood Rain

2009-11-11T15:26:00.012-05:00

It's a furious day on the eastern seaboard. Nor'easters usually barrel through mid-winter, not mid-November. Today, if you must venture out, you physically wince and utter an oath when you open the front door. I had to pay for this morning's appointment even if I didn't go, so quickly I decided to go before I changed my mind. I threw on my coat and winced and oathed into the driving rain.

My umbrella turned inside-out five seconds after I stepped outside and three more times before I gave up and just allowed myself to get drenched. On a day like this, getting from point A to point B requires you to lean forward at a 45 degree angle while, if you forgot to button up, your coat snaps behind you at a 90 degree angle flapping insanely like a flag in a hurricane. This, I thought in the maelstrom, is Meme's "Hollywood rain".

Meme (say Me-Me) is my mom's oldest sister. And Meme has lived only twenty-five minutes away from me for the past twenty-five years. Meme was also the first relative (besides my parents) on the scene when I was born. I was born in Hawaii and my New England maternal grandparents sent Meme out as the Hendry family embassador, and helper, for Mom & Dad. This of course I don't remember but I've seen pictures and heard the stories.

Our relationship is as comfortable as an old chair. Sometimes it's easier to get along with your aunt than with your own mom simply because it's a less complicated relationship. Don't get me wrong. I'm glad I got my mom. Meme's demons made life difficult for her own children. But Meme has mellowed with age and I'm her niece. All she has to worry about with me is to save her old People magazines, meet me occasionally to hand over the pile of People's over a pleasant chit-chat lunch, and wait patiently for me since I'm almost always late to pick her up. Meme is always patient with me.

Meme's Hollywood rain is any sort of drenching downpour that lasts for hours and hours that almost never happens in real life but always happens when it rains in the movies. Think about it. It never rains lightly or "sprinkles" in Hollywood productions. In Hollywood, it's either a mean, mad rain, or an unrelenting, unsympathetic dousing. Meme casually commented on this phenomenon once a number of years ago and it rang so true the minute she said it, I've never forgotten.

I found the perfect video on YouTube to illustrate (hope you like Ronnie Milsap): http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=F0yIVZFv0aM

Oh, this too from Son of Flubber--it's too cute to pass up:
http://www.tcm.com/mediaroom/index.jsp?cid=216570

I suppose then, it's appropriate that a Nor'easter will be wailing around us on Friday when we gather to say good-bye to Meme at Arlington National Cemetery in Washington D.C.

Today, after being splashed relentlessly by passing cars while I struggled with my umbrella at the curb, I ducked, finally, into my car and happened to catch my reflection in the rearview mirror--my hair is plastered to my dripping face, the car is fogging up, and I'm smiling. This almost never happens in real life.

Poetry Girl Sunday #2

2009-11-08T14:19:00.002-05:00

"On our earth, before writing was invented, before

the printing press was invented, poetry flourished. That

is why we know that poetry is like bread; it should be

shared by all, by scholars and by peasants, by all our vast,

incredible, extraordinary family of humanity."

--Pablo Neruda

My beloved Pablo Neruda. You will see more of his poems in Poetry Girl in the months ahead. Born in 1904 in southern Chile he is often considered the 20th Century's best poet if you can say such a thing. It goes against my grain to call any, single poet "the best" ...there are so many. I'll have you consider that we are all poets and that poetry can "speak" to and from all of us. I know it is a part of our DNA. And it is Neruda who is "the best" at reminding us of this ...

This poem titled "Poetry" is from Memorial de Isla Negra/Isla Negra (1962 -64), from the chapter "Where The Rain Is Born". As with much of Neruda's work, it simply speaks for itself.

Click here to listen:

Pablo Neruda, Poetry (read by Miranda Richardson)

Click here to see:
http://www.poemhunter.com/best-poems/pablo-neruda/poetry-2/

" ...felt myself a pure part
of the abyss.
I wheeled with the stars.
My heart broke loose on the wind."
--Pablo Neruda

Cartoon Saturdays

2009-11-07T23:18:00.006-05:00

But not the kind of cartoons you're thinking of .....Political Cartoons!! I love them. They're SO double-edged! What else can get the corners of your mouth to turn up while skewering the very society/world we're all a part of?

They can teach you things ....you often see yourself in them. They call attention in a very friendly format to things that need attention no matter which side you're on or how you feel about it. "Hey," they say, "think about me!".

So I'm setting aside Saturday's for the week's best cartoons.

For now I'm sticking with Tom Toles, political cartoonist extraordinaire, who makes us laugh & think while we're reading the Washington Post:

http://www.washingtonpost.com/wp-dyn/content/opinions/tomtoles/

Toles, Washington Post, 10/23/09

Toles, Washington Post,10/29/09

Toles, Washington Post,10/30/09

Toles, Washington Post, 11/4/09

Toles, Washington Post, 11/8/09

Happy it's-almost-over Saturday! (Hey, I just thought of this idea ten minutes ago ....)

Wah!!

2009-11-07T16:38:00.002-05:00

I got so excited about adding a music element to my blog that I decided to add a favorite songs playlist over there in the left side bar! Good idea huh?

No!! Bad idea! It took nearly two whole hours to add all those nice little audio links you see under Playlist and, now, somewhere along the way, NONE of it works! Now even Joni won't play! Wah!!

**mopping up tears right now**

Ok, well please be patient. I'm working on it. I will get the music working again, hopefully sooner than later!

Gorgeous Things

2009-11-05T23:10:00.026-05:00

OMG!!!!!! It's taken me three friggin' days to figure out how to put an audio link (music link) into my blog! C'mon Blogger! You could totally make it easier.  (It's super easy on WordPress .....hello? hello???)

But I am here to say that I have learned HTML and CSS, and how to imbed & re-write code. And fifty-thousand other things I had to figure out, but so "just barely" that I can't express the rest intelligently. Clearly I'm flying by the seat of my pants here.

But sit back. Click below, on Ms. Joni Mitchell's link, "Both Sides Now", while I extol on gorgeous things ....

Joni Mitchell, Both Sides Now

Music. It's a huge part of my life.  I have very eclectic musical tastes--the most recent concerts I've attended have been Mark Cohn (in May), Elvin Bishop (in June), Bob Dylan, Willie Nelson, & John Mellencamp (in July),  The Psychodelic Furs and Thievery Corporation (both in October). That covers blues, folk, pop, rock, punk, & world, socially-conscious music. Every concert has "done" something good to me--and I am grateful.

Gorgeous Thing #1 - this song. Don't ask me why I picked it out of all the songs I could have picked for my first official blog song. Except that it is just plain gorgeous. It is at once ......sad & wise .......hopeful & unhopeful. Deep and fresh and measured. Introspective and naive.

Maybe "gorgeous" means emotions and memories thrust upon you in all kinds of unexpected combinations? Emotions that despite their oddball combos, you can relate to .....maybe because of their oddball combinations? Maybe life is just odd? Maybe life is always gorgeous if you know which side to be on .....

Gorgeous Thing #2 - dear Steve is playing at Yoshi's--world -class musician boyfriend is playing at the incomparable "Yoshi's" in Oakland, CA tonight. http://www.yoshis.com/oakland His idols have played there. He's taken me to experience his (mostly jazz) idols playing there.  It ain't easy to get booked at Yoshi's. And for the first time in his already amazing professional career, he's playing bass like a mad-man, as I write, at Yoshi's.  I'm so proud of him ....

Gorgeous Thing #3 - I'm breathing in & out. I'm not in pain.  I have amazing people surrounding me. And everything I love is sleeping peacefully or playing bad-ass bass tonight!

The complete truth is that I'm pretty stresssed-out these days.  But what, really, do I have to complain about?

It will be all right ........

I figured out how to put music on my blog.

*****

"Well, something's lost, but something's gained,

....in living every day ...."

A Face With A Name

2009-11-03T00:09:00.003-05:00

I have a new look! That is ...my BLOG has a new look! I like it. I hope you do too!

This pic, plus the big-blog-title picture at the top, were taken on a beautiful day in October at the beach in Virginia Beach, VA. Yep, that's the Atlantic!! I live in Chesapeake which is only a hop, skip, & a jump (and a 20 minute car ride) away! I feel very, very lucky to live near the ocean ...

The Gift Of An Hour

2009-11-02T07:44:00.003-05:00

Ok this is not me, but it might as well be. This is what I look like in the morning. It does not matter when I went to bed. It does not matter how long I slept, nor how well I slept. NO MATTER WHAT this is what I look like.

I recently became a fan of the Hate Waking Up Early page on Facebook. (On the same day I became a fan of the Laughing When You Shouldn't page too, but that's for another post)

[Credit Pause: this picture features the mascot of FB's Hate Waking Up Early page]

Now yes, the hair is bad here, but here's a tip: I notice the longer my hair gets, the less bad-ish it looks upon waking. But even more important than the bad hair, what I relate to the most in this picture, the thing I really recognize in the picture is the eyes. O yes, every morning when I stumble out of bed, if I unfortunately happen to catch a glimpse of my morning-self in the bathroom mirror, it's THOSE eyes glaring back at me.

My freshman year in college, unbeknownst to me until sometime during the second semester my dorm neighbor, who later became my roomate, who later became my life-long friend, informed me that everybody thought I was mad at them every morning! I was shocked!! "They do?" I asked incredulously??? I couldn't believe it. If you'd asked me, I would have told you I was just being "neutral".

"Francophile", my friend, apparently had it figured out that I was only catatonic the first two hours of every day, not angry, and had apparently taken it upon herself to explain that to all dorm friends who had taken offense from my "angry eyes". From that point on, I made a point to all subsequent roomates and neighbors to explain my morning "state" and to not take offense--just give me two hours to wake up.

To undscore the point, no matter how well rested I am or not, it takes me a solid two hours to completely wake-up. Those first two hours you might seriously wonder, just how low is her IQ? At this point, my brain is the total opposite of quick--my brain is operating at slo-mo. Those of you who know me, know this. You know that blank stare I give you when you pause in what seems to me your blazing-speed dialogue. (Btw, I'm not trying to "give you a message". Oh no, I'm definitely not up to that level of brain activity when I'm blank-staring. I'm just trying to fathom what you just inundated me with.) Your reactions vary from simply ignoring my blankness and forging on at lightening speed, to invisibly shrugging your shoulders and waiting an hour or two for me to emerge from my catatonic state.

So it must be obvious to all of you by now that I LOVE this time-change in the fall! I love "falling-back"!!! I can really tell a difference and it feels like a total gift! All day long. The effect lasts about four or five days until my not-a-morning-person body clock once again takes over and I'm back to looking like Hate Waking Up Early FB boy. Hey it just occured to me that I would have used a picture of myself for this post, I'm not vain. But now I'm sure you understand I would be incapable of operating my Canon at the time of day needed for this shot.

Finally, you must be wondering how I've managed to author such a clever post so early in the morning? Well, my night-owl self actually wrote this last night and set-up the post to post at a shockingly early hour by just the push of one button. Yep, even I can manage a one-button-push in the morning!

PS--Stay tuned for future posts expanding on this theme--starting with the self-infatuated early-bird-gets-the-worm people and culminating in The Theft Of An Hour this spring ....

Poetry Girl Sunday

2009-11-01T16:53:00.009-05:00

One of my best friends--an amazing, amazing published poet who's taught college-level writing for twenty years--upon hearing about my newborn blog asked the most obvious glaring question, a question I hadn't dared ask myself yet ....."Are you going to put some of your poems in your blog?"

My answer was, (blank moment), then Uhh .....

I haven't mentioned it specifically, well there is a vague reference in my profile to being an aspiring writer, that whether you think I'm a good one or a bad one, whether you love, are neutral to, or can't stand poets, I am a poet. An aspiring one.

So "Poet Boy's" comment ......(I wanted to refer to him as Poet Man cause he is "da Man!" but he humbly requested Poet Boy, so Poet Boy it is) ......made me realize that an obvious point of my blogging would be to include poetry, even mine. Especially mine.

While perusing the internet last week, I stumbled upon this video on Poetryfoundation.com. Check it out if you have 1:50 min's: Sarah and Heather

I guess it's just a little video-slice-of-most-people-aren't-into-poetry .....?  I'm not completely sure. But ever since I happened to watch it last week, it keeps popping into my head at regular intervels. One of those popping-into-head moments happened when Poet Boy asked me about poetry on my blog.

So I am very familiar with the immediate-glazed-over-eyes look whenever I mention poetry or whenever I mention writing it.  In all fairness, I treat people to that same immediate-glazed look whenever they mention an intricate football play (or just any football play), or anything that has the word "budget" in it.

But I've decided poetry is an important part of "finding my bliss" which is an important part of this blog. So, ta-da! I introduce you to Poetry Girl Sundays, in which I am Poetry Girl for the day, and I publish some kind of a poetry-themed post every (or most every) Sunday.  Fun!

Today, since I've taken up so much of your time already, I'm keeping it short and sweet. If you read my post from Friday night called My Mom Suit, you would surely have detected sadness, wistfulness, & melancholy. It was a post full of those things. I wanted to wrap it up with a "But don't worry! It will be fine!!"-type finale but this blog is not about shying away from feelings. It's about staring them down--good & bad, happy & sad. (See what I mean about being a poet?)

Anyway, I'm trying to adjust to changes in my life and Friday night I wasn't adjusting too well. A big thank-you goes out to Cecilia (real name--hope you don't mind Cecilia!) for sending my a "strong heart" on Facebook yesterday because she read my post and 1) knew I felt bad and 2) said she could relate which helped more than she can imagine.

Yesterday, I bought a box of Celestial Seasonings Sleepytime Tea. Another friend Don (real name too!) was recently raving ridiculously about it's amazing qualities so I thought I'd better get me some. Right there on the box it says:

"Live in each season as it passes; breathe the air, drink the drink, taste the fruit, and resign yourself to the influences of each." -Henry David Thoreau

Now how about that?  Just the perfect seed to plant in my heart this weekend.  Don't you just love poetry?

My Mom Suit

2009-10-30T22:34:00.006-04:00

It's a beautiful night, not a full moon, but it's getting there. Bright and white. It's one of those nights with clouds that are lit up from above. It's the night before Halloween. At the tail end of my walk, I round back into my neighborhood and I see that almost every house is poised to spring Halloween on any who dare trick-or-treat tomorrow night.  I think it's cute I realize--even the ghoulish lawns with plastic, bloody-stump severed limbs scattered on the grass and skeletons leaning up against tree trunks. I'm always amazed at how Snoopy-dog-house-festive some people get (only drape Snoopy's house in Halloween, not Christmas). I admire these Snoopy-decorators for their complete unselfconsciousness and pure verve.

I tend toward the self-conscious, shouldn't it be tasteful? I grudgingly admit I'm a Martha Stewart wannabe even though I can't stand her smug mug and that "Dahh-ling, we simply mu-ssst get together in the Haahhh-mptons" accent.  Ok but the woman does everything beautifully. Everything. Beautifully.  So I admire her but she freaks me out and plus I hate snobs. Where am I going? .............oh yeah, I'm a self-conscious decorator more or less.

But having kids loosened me up in the decorating department.  Over the years we've had giant, black, trash bag-newspaper stuffed spiders on the front lawn with red Solo Cup eyes & white cut-out fangs, and plastic things hanging from trees, and scary frankenstein sounds blaring from the front door.

This year Thing One is at college, and almost sixteen-Thing Two is spending the night with friends tonight and making Halloween plans with said friends tomorrow night. Very normal scenario for an eighteen year-old and a fifteen year-old.  It's just, I know when I walk up my driveway tonight I'm not going to see a single visible Halloween decoration. How did I let that happen?? I even wrestled today with whether or not I should go get a pumpkin and I didn't!

It occured to me that becoming a mom is to donn a mom-suit. And at this phase in my life, I'm half in and half out of the mom-suit.  Certainly, I know that growing older doesn't mean you don't carve pumpkins or hang fake spiders on fake webs anymore!  But I'm in flux.  I'm not quite sure of the way. I know I should march confidently ahead but I find myself looking back more than ever before.  I don't think I want to find myself scooping out seeds and making ghost marshmallows by myself this year.

I glance up at the sky one more time before I go inside. As I open the door, I decide I'm going to settle down in my comfy leather chair with some herbal tea and watch "It's The Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown". I don't think even Snoopy decorated his place this Halloween .......

I'm On Twitter! Now what ......?

2009-10-30T18:41:00.003-04:00

I joined Twitter 45 minutes ago!!!!! ..............

(Can someone please tell me what I'm supposed to do with it bearing in mind that my poor little brain is still trying to grasp this entire other universe out there called the Blogoshere that I didn't know existed until last week; if Twitter is in yet another universe, I fear the enormity of the concept will cause my head to fly off and explode mid-air (in this universe) making everyone who gets splatted with its remains think it is an an incredibly realistic, maybe even overly realistic, gory Halloween gag. In other words, keep it simple ....please?)

One Week-Old Birthday

2009-10-28T11:19:00.007-04:00

Happy birthday dear blog! It's a week old! I want to thank all of you who have supported me already from the bottom of my heart. It's means everything to me!

I plan to keep things fun and interesting so I hope you stay tuned. If you haven't read all the posts, you can still easily catch-up .....there aren't that many yet!

I'm obsessed with widgets now (guessing all new bloggers are) so see over there, down, down, down in the right-hand column, the button that says "Blagoversary in 358 Days"? It counts down every day to the blog's 1st birthday! Cute huh? (No, it doesn't do anything else, but still ....)

Pus or Steve?

2009-10-27T18:32:00.013-04:00

Ok ok ok .......the cat's out of the bag anyway because I told Pus about my blog. So Pus=Steve.

I don't know if that's true about "proper bloggers" anyway; what I said in an earlier post about not using real names to protect the innocent. I spent this entire, gray day inside (except for the walk I just went on) reading other people's blogs and tweaking my little nascent blog. Man, whoever made up the word "Blogosphere" was not overstating the case--there is a veritable gigantic sphereical PLANET jammed with ka-zillions of bloggers out there!!!!!!  I am sufficiently humbled.

You've probably figured out by now that I have come to blogging by way of throwing-myself-off-the-end-of-a-pier-to-learn-how-to-swim route. If I ever read a blog before I began writing my 6-day old blog, I don't remember it. There are a lot of very hip & cool bloggers out there and after today, I've realized I have a LONG way to go before I'm either, much less both.  That said, a lot of these "hipsters" use real names, so I suppose I can too if it strikes me. On my honor, I promise to ask permission first if any of you out there are afraid I might stick you with a name like "Pus".

My friend MEC has told me no less than 8 or 19 times in the past forty-eight hours, since I first introduced Pus to my readers, that she hates "Pus" (the name, not the guy) and that reading it makes her up-chuck every time!  Which surprised me because I know it's gross but it's unique and plus there's Puke and Phlegm ........

Have you noticed the nifty "Reactions" widget (blogging word for cool little thing to put on your blog) below each post?  I changed the reactions today to 1) I like 2) made me laugh & 3) I can relate ......since none of you have been mean enough to check off "sucks!" which was sweet of you, and since Miss Delicate Flower, friend MEC, also pointed out to me after up-chucking that she doesn't like that word either. I'm all for constructive criticism however and I have to admit she may have a point. However .....(Good writers try to use this conjuntive adverb as little as possible--I just used it twice in two sentences! Ha!) ....I reserve the right to use the word "sucks" occasionally in my blog because it's a perfect word for such occasions and I long ago got over being offended by it.

So to the point--for the next 24 hours (after which they go back to See Above), I'm going to change the Reactions widget again to 1) Pus? & 2) Steve? ...for you dear readers to register your preference. Fun! And I will honor whichever wins giving first dibs though to Pus/Steve if he has a strong preference. Fair enough?

PS--btw it changes ALL the Reactions on ALL the posts to Pus? or Steve? so .......I'll get them back to normal tomorrow at this time after the Pus? Steve? poll results are tallied!

Why "You Must Take Your Chance"?

2009-10-27T07:47:00.017-04:00

Some of you have asked me about "You Must Take Your Chance" .......why did you pick it for your blog name? Here's the story but I must warn you, it has a sad ending:

Since I fancy myself a writer, a poet no less, I have fallen in love with this certain jeweler who engraves in tiny, tiny beautiful letters, poems and pieces of poems, onto her original design, precious metal jewelry--necklaces, bracelets, earrings, baby spoons, etc.  It's expensive, $100-something to several thousand-something. But the pieces are at once delicate and powerful. And very special.  So no wonder.  You've got to check out her website: Jeanine Payer

The first thing I bought from Jeanine was a necklace for Steve: A mountain keeps an echo deep inside itself. That's how I hold your voice. -Rumi, trans. by Coleman Barks.

Pretty cool, huh? Do you get the deeper meaning .....our long-distance relationship, we talk on the phone all the time, his voice??  Steve cried when I gave it to him ......have I mentioned, yet, how much I love him? And if any of you ever figure out who he is, and find his picture all over the internet, you will find three consistencies: his bass is strapped on, the ball cap is on, and the necklace is on.

Then my darling nephew was born so he got Jeanine's Simple Spoon: But then there was a star danced, and under that I was born. -William Shakespeare.

Now really, REALLY .....how perfect is that?

(Disclaimer: I have to be honest, this bracelet is actually the last thing I bought from Jeanine this past June, but the story is better if I tell you about it now.)

This was Thing One's high school graduation gift from me: Wonders happen if we can succeed in passing through the harshest danger; but only in a bright and purely granted achievement can we realize the wonder. - Rainer Maria Rilke, trans. by Stephen Mitchell.

I hope he doesn't lose it cause it cost a fortune. PS--And I hope Ex doesn't find his way to this blog cause he'd have a cow. Ex is practical and lacks the stomach for "heirloom gift giving"--I call it.

And now, the crux of the story, which most of you have probably figured out. Finally, I bought something for myself from Jeanine. This bracelet: You must take your chance. -William Shakespeare.

And the story is one of those snapshot memories in my mind that I will never forget. You know those times in your life when there is a completely unexpected "profoundness" imbued in a moment that makes it unforgettable? I know you have them too. Those times are what makes life worth living if you remember to remember them at your lowest moments ......

SO, I was in San Francisco visiting Steve. Which is where Jeanine Payer's studio and retail store are located! Every time I'd visited Steve before, it was too hectic and I couldn't convince him to make the time to locate her shop in the middle of SF, the city in which I'm COMPLETELY entranced and would do anything for and forgive all. The same city Steve says, and half-believes, he couldn't care less about.  (I mean, hey, he grew up there)  He plays regularly in these fabulous dives, er bars, that have literally been there since the Gold Rush. No lie!!! Whenever I accompany him to The Saloon, between North Beach & Chinatown, or the Gold Dust Lounge at Union Square, neither of which seem to have been renovated since 1849, I literally WILL those walls to talk to me! (They haven't yet ...)  Just the stuff I've seen there on the occasional occasion these past four years could fill a book. Think about the one-hundred and fifty-six years before that!!!  Did I mention that Steve doesn't think these places are nearly as fabulous as I do? He's completely jaded because parking is a nightmare, the pay sucks, and the customers are not the "characters" I'm charmed by, they're just drunk a-holes.  In Steve's defense, I do get why it isn't so exciting--it's his life. But it's exciting as h*ll for me--it's my vacation!

But finally, one January a couple of years ago, I convinced him to drive into the city a little early so he could drop me off at Jeanine Payer's before she closed, and then later, I'd take a cable car down to Lou's Pier 47 Restaurant and Blues Club at Fisherman's Wharf where he was playing, to meet him. I wasn't planning on buying anything at Jeanine's. I was just going to look. I really did believe that. Who was I fooling??? Obviously just myself because Steve didn't look the least bit surprised when I showed up at Lou's later that night with my beautiful You Must Take Your Chance -William Shakespeare bracelet on.

But the "moment" happened after I left Jeanine's very hip & very cool (no surprise there) shop. And no, I didn't get to meet Jeanine, just a darling shop clerk who did a great job helping me pick something out and taking my money. So now it's just after dusk.  I have to find the nearest cable car hop-on/hop-off point and I'm nervous because I've never done it ....only seen it a thousand times since I was four years old on the Rice-A-Roni commercials.  Does the cable car even stop???? What if I hop-on and miss??? I mean really, there must be a technique? And you can't ask any city-dweller .....they only look at you like you just crawled out of some "hick"-hole.

Somehow, I managed to "board" in one-piece and figure out how to pay the "conductor?" without causing too much commotion or attracting too much attention to myself. There I am, in San Francisco, by myself, on a misty not too cold January night, sitting on a freakin' cable car! Sitting!! Suddenly I realized, what am I SITTING for?? Aren't cable cars for cheerfully "hanging off" of? While a bright brass bell rings incessantly, and everyone (the conductor, the passengers, and any poor pedestrian not lucky enough to be riding on that happy cable car going by) sings "......Rice-A-Roni .......the San Franciso treat!!"

So I stand up and do my best to "hang off" without getting reprimanded by the conductor. And my new bracelet, hanging off my arm hanging onto the brass pole while I'm hanging off the cable car, glints in the mist, in the moonlight, in the city lights, You must take your chance. -William Shakespeare.

THAT was the moment......

The sad ending happened one day, late last winter, when it fell off my arm, somewhere, and I didn't notice. I keep waiting to find it by just "coming across" it .....maybe under the seat in the car? Or in a potted plant? In the lint catcher? It must be somewhere! But as of this writing, it is still gone.

I've been trying for a long time to start this blog. It represents more than I care to entail now--I will plug away at those things in future blogs. I've been thinking about what to call my blog. One day it came to me when I was looking at my bare arm, missing that gentle reminder ........yes, that's it ......You must take your chance.