Everything I tell you is Hearsay

i'm a restless soul

2008-06-11T16:56:00.000-07:00

and easily swayed.

moving to wordpress. its all shiny and junk.

http://autumnrouse.wordpress.com/

so...

in the event of the apocalypse

2008-06-10T16:08:00.000-07:00

turns out, i'll be well fixed for shampoo.

i think this is weird.

i'm not especially fussy about my hair. i kinda hate it actually. by which i mean to say, we have a very adversarial relationship. it wants to curl, though i wish it was straight. it grows where i do not want it to and will not grow where i do want it to. it's not really the color i'd like it to be... blah blah blah.

that being said, i seem vaguely obsessed with the acquisition of products to pamper, train, or otherwise interact with said adversary. i cleaned out under my sink recently and came up with no less than 18 different kinds of shampoo. not just additional bottles, no. because whenever i am in the store, and i see shampoo, i think to myself "huh, i could use some of that..."

so, i figure, everybody has something they hoard. and i'm not talking about a collection. or something, like, useful or worthwhile in its own right. instead i mean some grooming product, cleaning supply, household item that no matter how much you already have, how many varieties already have tried, you cannot resist the chance to try again, to have a little more.

maybe between the lot of us we can avoid the drugstore for the next decade or so....

hodie's new school

2008-06-09T16:41:00.000-07:00

so, after 4 fine years at MLC hodie will be going transferring to our neighborhood school Bridlemile in the fall. we decided this for a host of reasons, and we're pretty excited about it, although i must admit i'll sort of miss the bragging rights associated with being the parent of an MLC childling.

turns out though, that the academtic rating on this neighborhood school is actually better than MLC (which is a magnet) and more than one of the parents i met today had actually pulled their kid out of montessori/private school and applied for transfer into Bridlemile since it's such a good school. sweet!

so, sacrificing nothing in terms of quality of education, we are gaining the following:

1) neighborhood kids & activities. the nature of the magnet is that the kids come from all quadrants of the town and usually don't live near one another. nice for a varied demographic, not nice for playdates.

2) more "authentic" school experience. as much as i loved the touchy feel-y child centered education model for her when she was a kindergartener, the older she gets, the more structure i think she needs. not to mention the concept of grades (which they don't do at MLC) and a less insular social model. moreover they are getting ready to stick her class into 2 years of split grade, which we did not love the last time we did it.

3) SCHOOL BUS! WOOT! i have been driving her back and forth to school for 4 years. i'm tired.

so, on the whole, we're happy! and today was the open house for the school so they could come over and meet their new teacher. i thought after being so used to MLC, the least i could do was let hodie have one day to look around the new school and meet her new teacher so it wasn't completely overwhelming come fall.

and so i sat in my sub-adult sized chair in the library while she went off to meet her new teacher. i spoke with a whole new set of highly-entitled snarky parents (not leaving them behind apparently), and waited for her to come back and give me her impressions.

they had the whole experience set up to try and ease the kids into the transition. one step in this process was each of the outgoing 4th graders from Miss Good's class wrote a letter to an incoming member. you know, give them a little inside scoop, some insight into the 4th grade experience. well, what follows was the letter for hodie. (spelling and tense errors are those of the author and reproduced faithfully)

June 6th, 2008

Dear New 4th grader,

HI! My name is (not actually going to post the name). I'm 10 years olf and I was in Miss Good's class. I don't know how I did it but all I now is that it was torchure with Miss Good.

When I found out I was in Miss Good's class I was freaking out!!! I didn't kno what it would be like. I heard so much thinks about her like "she is the worst teacher ever!" or "She is SO Mean!!" And alot more.

Just to be nice I'm going to give you some tips on how to survive Miss Good's class. One is do NOT I repet do NOT turn in eney thing late!! She hats that. The second one is if you arnt paying attention she will get MAD!!! And the last one is never LIE!! If you do sometimes she knows it. Thank you for reading this note.

Sincerely, (not actually going to post the name)

bwahahahahahahaha. ahem. not exactly the most reassuring note. one must consider the source i suppose, but hodie is now totally paranoid that her new teacher is a tyrant with a lie detector embedded in her head. so, that's awesome.

can't wait til fall!!

Kung Fu Panda

2008-06-09T12:34:00.001-07:00

took hodie to see this one on saturday and really enjoyed it.

i am a fan of jack black, so this definitely must be considered in that context. and this film is a very typically "Black" comedy. lots of fat jokes, goof humor, and general silliness.

the opening sequence has a sumptuous stylized look that i really liked; very asian chic al-la samurai jack. charming, funny, fast-paced narration from jack lead to giggles galore.

once the dream-sequence opening is over, we're back to the typical post-pixar CGI with which some people are so enamored. while i understand the appeal, i'm pretty much over it. anymore i'd just as soon see an honest-to-god cartoon in the more traditional sense. that being said, this film contained some of the loveliest imagery i have seen in recent memory. atmospheric shots were rich with detail and color. landscapes shone with light and shadow. shots of the skies and horizons were especially gorgeous. it was almost incongruous to be giggling and awestruck by beauty at in the same breath.

voices by dutin hoffman, angelina jolie, david cross (woot!), and jackie chan add an amusing component of "where the hell do i know that voice from?" to the film experience.

worthwhile and enjoyable, definitely. i do tend to set the bar a little lower for kids movies, but i still think i'd recommend this one to anyone with a fondness for silliness and an appreciation for rich imagery.

i just decided

2008-06-06T16:59:00.000-07:00

bsomething crazy, but exciting.

the clinic has been really slow, and we have more help than we need over the summer so dr. anne made it clear if i wanted some time off over the summer we could do that with ease. i wont get paid but i can have the time if i want it.

turns out i do.

neko case is my most favorite singer in all the land. and i find her music incredibly inspiring and her courage as a songwriter leaves me breathless and spurs me on. so. i want to see her in concert. she's coiming to bumbershoot, but i hate festival shows. with a passion. and i've been to seattle 900 bajillion times.

i've never been to reno, though...

i bought myself a ticket this afternoon. i'm taking 4 days off. i'm going to drive so i can see southern oregon. i'm going to do this. i cant decide if i'm more scared or excited.

guess i'll find out.

i will readily admit

2008-06-06T13:07:00.000-07:00

i have a fairly unsophisticated understanding of market forces and the delicate balance of the world economy. i also know that current trends are making survival more and more difficult for a great many people in the developing nations. hearing about the price of rice and grain skyrocketing, and the concomitant increase in food insecurity weighs heavily on my mind indeed.

yet, somehow, i feel this trend, as an overall tendency, isn’t necessarily a bad thing. in much the same way i feel the increase in gasoline prices are causing profound changes in our consciousness around how we consume energy, i want to believe the increase in food prices might bring about the same kind of evolution around how we consume other things.

while listening to NPR last week i heard a story about how the spike in the cost of grain is beginning to effect people in the rural areas of Afghanistan. how it is becoming more difficult for families to feed their children. and while this is hard to hear and makes me think we as a global community need to step in to address the immediate crisis, the side effect of the overall increase in food prices has made more profitable to grow wheat than opium poppies.

this delights me. there is something inherently noble, as far as i am concerned, in growing food. but more, it is beautiful to me that it is now a more practical choice to feed people than to feed a craving for oblivion.

most of human history has put us in the position of having to spend the greater proportion of our resources (time, physical energy, money) on the acquisition of food and shelter. in the relatively recent course of western culture, there has been a profound shift in that we have more and more resources to allocate toward other pursuits. it has not necessarily made for a more fulfilling human experience. we have become indolent and insensitive to the notion that toil in the pursuit of survival can be a rewarding thing in its own right. that greater freedom to reflect on all we do not have or need to have, has created an acute sense of entitlement and dissatisfaction in generations of people that seems only to be deepening the longer it goes on.

and so it seems to me that the rise in the price of food may cause us to begin to again reflect on the origins of our sustenance and all the ways we hope it will nourish us; what it is we value in our day to day lives and why we place such weight on certain components of our life and so little on others. food and eating are almost never just about food and eating these days, so perhaps we could begin to place a higher worth on this aspect of living, as not only what allows us to survive, but brings significant satisfaction and pleasure as well.

because i feel as though if we were to acknowledge the true worth of our food, that we would place a higher value on it than we have previously and that in so doing, we could acknowledge that it is appropriate to apportion a greater part of our means toward it. the notion being that we should be paying a high premium for food. we should place greater value on being able to feed people than to make our cars go. we should see providing food as a worthwhile investment which also serves to promote wise stewardship of resources.

and I realize this is probably a naïve and overly simplistic way of seeing the situation, but honestly it is one of the few comforts i can retain in an otherwise increasingly distressing atmosphere of scarcity. i think it serves me best to learn to value the things i fundamentally require and appreciate their true worth in my life.

i suppose it’s the socio-economic equivalent of “if you can’t be with the one you love, love the one you’re with”

Stardust

2008-06-06T02:15:00.000-07:00

I like Neil Gaiman well enough. Coraline is a fine example of his writing and I enjoyed it immensely. I think I was operating under the assumption that Stardust was likewise, a decent read for a fairly sophisticated 9 year old (of which I am possessed). Turns out, not so much.

Actually, to be fair, it probably would have been ok, but when I turn a page in the middle of what seems like a fairly innocuous scene of romance and have to stop dead in my tracks so as to avoid reading aloud “he brushed her firm nipples” to the aforementioned 9 year old… well I guess I just gave it up for lost at that point as far as she was concerned. besides, i think there’s a little too much unicorn death in it for the average adolescent girl.

Apart from that, it was an amusing enough romp. nothing very inventive here, but a decent way to pass a handful of hours.

To Kill A Mockingbird

2008-06-05T16:59:00.000-07:00

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arouse77's reviews from LibraryThing
http://www.librarything.com/profile_reviews.php?view=arouse77
arouse77's reviews from LibraryThing
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To Kill a Mockingbird (Harper Perennial Modern Classics) by Harper Lee
http://www.librarything.com/work/book/30996292
reading this made me understand why we call certain books "classic" written in a lively prose, this story is about the expansion of awareness possible only at a very particular time in life. though this book has been turned into a movie where the legal drama takes the main focus, i felt the real story here was in how the family of Scout, Jem, and Atticus grow together and apart in the face of the harsh realities that dwell on the periphery of their insular southern town. as Scout's understanding of her world and the people who populate it becomes more sophisticated and nuanced, she sacrifices some of her shining innocence for the weightier gift of compassion. this story illustrates with sensitivity and sense this quintessential process of maturation. highly recommended.

Harper Perennial Modern Classics (2006), Paperback, 336 pages
tags: literature, southern culture, civil rights, movie
Sun, 25 May 2008 23:27:31 -0400

good health can be hazardous to your health

2008-06-05T10:48:00.000-07:00

ok, maybe i exaggerate. but i was working out last night (have decided to quell obsessive voice in head with exersize rather than sex and/or drugs) and was having a generally good time of it. sweating, breathing heavy, hurting just a little... (kinda like when i'm having a generally good time with sex and/or drugs)

i like to run. i also like the elipitcal trainer. i like weights. i like the gym. given my druthers, i go everyday. i listen to this american life while i'm huffing along. i annoy my fellow workers out with my random bursts of laughter. i stare out the windows at cooper mountain. these are good times.

what was not such good times yesterday was the sad injury i sustained when trying to re-rack my weights. now, you'd think by this point in my life, i would know my way around a rack (rimshot), but i misjudged my distance and pinched the holy living f*&k out of my index finger. pinching your pointed between a metal shelf and a 15lb barbell is not so much fun. hideous blood blister did ensue.

i hurt myself in stupid ways all the time and a huge proportion of these injuries occur when i am in pursuit of better health. hence, i'm all lean and fit and look like a victim of "enhanced interrogation methods"

sheesh.

Dinner @ Deschutes Brewpub

2008-06-03T15:44:00.000-07:00

hodie and i went to Powell's yesterday so she could obtain the spoils of blackmail. i owed her one, and she's become extremely fond of these weird little Japanese dolls that have completely interchangeable parts. head, trunk, and legs can all be swapped out for one another...

whatever.

i was starving. we were in close proximity to many fine eateries, but i wanted something easy, kid-friendly, and comparatively low-cost. i wanted to go get beer cheese soup @ Henry's but wasn't sure i could take her into the bar and didn't want to take her into the dining room. so.

the deschutes opened recently enough i hadn't tried it yet (though my experiences in Bend were pretty uninspiring) and thought it should fit the bill nicely.

wandered over and saw Steve Novick inside. so, that was cool... we were seated and my immediate impression was lack of design vision married to noise. it was loud in there. much louder than one might expect for a monday afternoon. it wasn't all that crowded, so i can only assume it was the "this used to be a repair shop" acoustics that were to blame. also, plaid industrial carpet? never a good call.

when i got a look at the menu it seemed like pretty typical pub grub, which was what i was after, but definitely upmarket in terms of price. not totally thrilled my reuben was going to cost me $11.95 i was downright flummoxed to see that the kids menu listed grilled salmon as one of its offerings. grilled salmon? seriously? if it cannot be formed into a patty or tot, my child is not interested. and i realize this is not true of all children, that some children are slightly more sophisticated in terms of their tastes, but i don't think i have EVER met a kid who lwould look at their parents and say "instead of grilled cheese, can i have grilled salmon?"

anyway, we ordered. my sandwich was not-even-middling fair. the bread was awful (and NOT rye) and the dearth of dressing was criminal, to my mind. hodie's burger was fine, according to her, but it was GARGANTUAN. there was no chance in hell she was going to be able to eat it all. the hand cut fries were passable, the honey mustard i sopped up with them was downright tasty. the "special rose festival pink lady" brew was less than thrilling, but potable.

this cost me about $30 all told. which is a lot for eating with the child. usually its closer to $20 for this type of meal in most eateries. i realize being in the pearl brings with it a premium, but usually that premium is married with a more satisfying experience all around.

next time i'll just drag her to Henry's and be done with it....

my embarassing admission is...

2008-05-30T13:07:00.003-07:00

i've never been a bridesmaid before, but i've been DYING to. and i realize, this is bizarre. i think its mostly because my few female friends are either pointedly unfroofy and so had no use for bridesmaids, already married, or a long way off from being married. sometimes more than one of these things at once.

yet, the big secret is, that though i can fix my own car, go for days without showering in a camping context, and curse like a sailor, i am fundamentally a girly-girl.

i love weddings, and babies, and shopping, and tulle, and shopping, and pedicures, and brocade and shopping, and pink, and diamonds, and shopping.

and i will admit, that someday, i pray someone will love me enough to want to let me have all of those things. my wedding dress will likely be about 9 miles wide. and i have had many anxious hours fantasizing about my elaborate wedding and wondering how the hell i can hope to have it when i dont have enough really close friends to adequately man the phalanx of attendants i envision beside me on that magical day.

sigh.

but! finally! a close friend who's a girly girl is having a fancy pants wedding! and i'm IN IT! palm springs in march? nice. the dress is even something I WOULD ACTUALLY WEAR OTHERWISE! how lucky am i?

i guess we all have our embarassing secret admissions. as far as it goes, mine could be lots worse...

any other not-so-secret secret admissions?

In The Woods

2008-05-30T13:07:00.002-07:00

enjoyable mystery novel with a degree of sensitivity and complexity missing in the usual murder investigation tale. the story told in first person, follows the climax and subsequent collapse of the personal and professional life of one detective Rob (Adam) Ryan.

the mystery is twofold; first is the relatively straightforward whodunit tale he and his partner are investigating and second the dimly recalled details of his own traumatic history. a nicely paced and well written peice of mystery fiction, the action centers around a child murder investigation that brngs our hero into close proximity to a place charged with meaning for him: the wood near his childhood home where as an adolescent he and two of his best friends disappeared for several days before only he is discovered with no memory of the events which befell the lot of them.

for a police investigator he shows a remarkable degree of ambivilance toward trying to recover his memory or discover the truth about the fate of his two closest childhood friends. yet as the investigation continues his carefully ordered coping strategy of avoiding the subject mentally begins to unravel. however, his only attempt to unearth his recollections offers no ultimately meaningful revelations, but instead serve only to alienate him from his meaningful current relationships.

while i fundamentally did enjoy this book, i found the primary mystery somewhat predictable, (i tagged the "culprit" on first introduction) and the secondary tale left questions unasked and unanswered in a way i felt was ncongruous with my expectations of the main character.

i also have a slightly weird tendency to hyperscrutinize when authors choose to write in the voice of a gender not their own. i find it is rare that an author can accurately capture the nuance of communication necessary to have the overall effect seem authentic. and while i considered this to be a better than average effort, there were a number of ways in which i felt detective Ryan behaved in a sterotypically "male" fashion that did not seem to serve any meaningful purpose in informing us about him. nor did they reflect the sensitivity this author showed herself capable of when describing other characters or atmospheric elements.

i do consider this to have been a much better than average murder mystery novel when left to its own merits. most of the things about it i didnt care for are pretty idiosyncratic and probably unique to my peculiarities.

recommended

Viking Adult (2007), Hardcover, 429 pages

only you understand me explodingdog

2008-05-30T13:07:00.001-07:00

i swear. i love explodingdog.com the artwork is fun and interesting and i am routinely amused by it. my wallpaper is almost always some piece or other. it's good stuff.

but lately, it's been more than that. the work is always accompanied by quirky titles that sometimes have nothing to do with the imagery, but have an eerie way of echoing what's going on in my life. especially lately.

a few examples follow...

it is enough to know you are out there

i'm afraid i will lose my faith

i will follow you into the dark

i am going to miss you

i hope you miss me too

sleeping to dream about you

i dont think you meant to do that

everything i touch turns to stone

love songs make me cry

i just cant stop

you have learned nothing

i regret everything

my life in cartoons....

hmmm

2008-05-30T13:07:00.000-07:00

twitter is over capacity. and so am i...

i feel so exactly just like this right now i find it almost hilarious. i have a host of little birdies trying valiantly to hoist me out of the sea of tears i might drown in else.

thank you birdies. you know who you are.

hodie pointed out

2008-05-27T14:03:00.000-07:00

something funny to me yesterday...

i've seen The Little Mermaid about 8,479 times. i can quote dialogue, sing all the songs, blah blah blah. and yet, the following escaped me;

"mom, you know how when Ariel and Flounder are exploring the shipwreck and the shark comes after them?"
"yeah?"
"why does Flounder scream 'RUN?!' they don't have legs..."

no shit. huh. ha.

the way the crow flies

2008-05-27T11:52:00.000-07:00

by Ann-Marie MacDonald

i found this work both luminous and dusky. its singing prose conjures an intimacy both of emotional and corporeal locus, and the language sings with an authenticity which absorbed me wholly. even at a hefty 811 pages this book was a pleasure to devour.

set in post World War II Canada, we are introduced to the McCarthy family as father Jack is about to assume his duties on the Centralia air force base. our first glimpse of the McCarthy’s is one of utterly bucolic happiness. parents passionately in love, children innocent and enriched by their nomadic existence. the voice of our primary character Madeline is remarkably genuine. this nine year old is intelligent and unblemished, and rarely have the impressions of a child been so authentically rendered and counterbalanced with the more sophisticated and nuanced perspective of the adults who surround her.

readers are privy to an array of forces which will begin to pull at the fabric of this singularly happy family in ways they cannot predict or even, once set adrift, begin to adapt to.

we begin with the depiction of post WWII politics and culture fraught with questions and concerns of the atomic age, and the author uses the alluring mechanism of episodic fractions of a nuclear fairy tale. the singsong narrative describing the mining techniques used to obtain material as well as slave labor practices which produced German missiles crafts a parable exceptionally evocative in the context of our sympathy for this child heroine.

in more direct, but no less compelling language the author communicates the paranoiac hysteria of the cold war mingled with a singularly Canadian sense of anti-Americanism; equal parts disgust, admiration, and inferiority complex. the author’s sense of time and place are absorbing and informative. subtle but meaningful distinctions of culture and context are woven expertly into a narrative about family dynamics, power, and abuse of trust that could take place anywhere. in the microcosm the author creates for us, we see a passionate belief in the value of the “space race” contrasted to an exquisitely sensitive and lovely portrait of a ripened romance between married adults. the innocence of childhood opposed to the cynicism of maturity. the drama of family dynamics juxtaposed against the pressures at play in the wider world.

all of these elements combine to make a mesmerizing tale and yet, this novel is, at its heart, a murder mystery. the foreshadows of tragedy are both tantalizing and oblique; simultaneously giving the reader the sense the outcome is predictable and that there is much yet to be revealed.

the book does change its tone significantly in the wake of the crime and subsequent legal proceedings. it follows Madeline into an adulthood which has aconsiderably different timbre than her childhood. eventually the tale comes full circle and all is revealed, but the jarring transition from child to adult, from singing evocative language to a quality harsher and more matter-of-fact is a mechanism i see the value of, but did not particularly enjoy adjusting to.

apart from this relatively minor (and probably totally personal) preference for more tonal consistency, i would say this is one of the finer novels i have encountered in recent memory. recommended, heartily.

Great and Minor Moments in Oregon History by Dick Pintarich

2008-05-24T15:59:00.000-07:00

"Oregon's Social History" was the first class i attended in college while trying to get my educational bearings. i took it from the author of this book and really enjoyed it. he was funny, engaging, well-informed, and entertaining. i found the book to have these same qualities.

Dick Pintarich works as a tour guide over the summers when he isn't teaching at Portland Community College, and this book has the tone you might expect from someone leading an especially entertaining excursion through Oregon's colorful history. an expert on southern and eastern Oregon, he touches on many of the less-well-known aspects of culture and landscape in the far corners of the state. he recounts interesting anecdotes from his own travels and brings tidbits of information to the fore that are both interesting and, in many cases, hilarious. the chapters on place-name sanitization is particularly amusing. (hint: rooster rock was NOT the original name!)

in addition to covering the more far flung corners of the state, this book also brings up many of the less than savory aspects of Oregon's culture that many natives, and more transplants, would rather forget. a rampant pattern of racism, prejudice, corruption, political pandering, the inflexibility of many residents toward social progress, and a legendary tight-fistedness among its residents.(remember, we're) one of the only states in the union without a sales tax!) an entertaining and instructive read, this book is a must for anyone curious about the less-well-traveled paths of Oregon's history. ( )

You're my best friend!

2008-05-24T14:21:00.000-07:00

i've been wondering lately if the notion of a "best friend" endures into adulthood. if you'd asked me this question a year ago, i would have answered with a resounding,
"uh-huh!"
however, the person who filled that role in my life since i was about 17 and i haven't even spoken in almost a year, and so now i am no longer sure.

the common wisdom tells us it becomes more difficult to make substantial social connections as we age. that intimacy becomes harder to establish, new friendships less likely to endure.

the way we forge connections changes radically as life goes on. our life circumstances, personalities, ethics, preferences, and degree of emotional competency take on distinct texture and permanence as we age. proximity is, then, no longer the defining characteristic of friendship. the accessibility of a playmate, once the cardinal trait of friendship, becomes largely irrelevant. our sensibilities evolve with our interests and we learn to make alliances based on hobbies, political leanings, fondness for drink, and countless other considerations.

and though these might seem to be a more sound and enduring basis upon which to form a lasting social connection, there are constraints presented by our maturity which can hamper the evolution of the emotional connection of the intensity and scope inherent to the "best friend" role. no longer can we hope to be as unaffected or vulnerable as when we were children. our actions are moderated and mitigated by our experience and politesse. the fear of revealing too much, or pressing upon the tolerance of another. we no longer possess the glorious insensitivity to the effect of our unbridled self upon others.

to my mind at least, it is in many ways the drama of our adolescence that makes the profound and enduring emotional and cognitive impressions upon us that allow us to feel as though we really, really know someone, deep down at their core. it is unusual to encounter a relationship, not romantic in nature, that can (or should) generate this same type of intensity once we are out of those tumultuous formative years. and perhaps if we don't emerge from this time with a person who has run this gauntlet beside us, they cannot really know us; cannot appreciate our evolution and our constancy.

not to forget the logistical and practical constraints of adulthood. we don't have time on our hands to devote to just being around to discover or communicate every damn thing.

and all of this being said, i have to admit, the conclusion i come to is that while it may be possible to have a best friend as an adult, it might not be possible to acquire one if you wrecked or lost the one you already had. and this makes me sad and lonesome and wistful. because that's what seems to have happened. and there doesn't seem to be anything i can do about it.

The Inheritance of Loss by Kiran Desai

2008-05-23T15:41:00.003-07:00

draped with acclaim and praise on the jacket, i had fairly high hopes for this book. i'm not certain if it's my frame of mind at the moment, or something more inherent to the text itself, but i was disappointed.

set in a back-and-forth time scheme ranging from WWII Europe to 1980's India, the story focused on 2 generations of a famiily and their close associates. these characters, to greater and lesser degrees, all experience a sense of being displaced in whatever social culture they happen to be currently entangled in.

if this book has a theme, i would say it is non-belongingness, which just did not resonate as expected. these characters all encounter significant turmoil both in their personal lives as well as in the growing political unrest raging around them and we are able to see how they cope with, or fail to acknowledge, these changes, the story moves back and forth in time and place in a way that isn't so much confusing as it is distracting and vaguely annoying.

i failed to find the main characters particularly sympathetic or engaging in terms of their internal struggle, or their responses to the upheaval in their surroundings. the most interesting emotional connection in this book seemed to be between the elderly judge and his dog. plowed through it, but didn't much enjoy it.

Grove Press (2006), Paperback, 384 pages

tags: India, romance, politics, immigration

A voyage long and strange : rediscovering the New World by Tony Horwitz

2008-05-23T15:41:00.002-07:00

My first impression of this book was exceedingly favorable. The opening chapters commence with a self-depricating stroll past Plymouth Rock and down Amnesia Alley. The author has an engaging and witty style i found immediately enjoyable to read. If the remainder of the book had maintained this initial promise, i would be rating as one of the better peices of non-fiction i've ever encountered.

perhaps not surprisingly though, the bantering tone of the early chapters did not last. once we left newfoundland (a HOTBED of hilarity, as is well known) and travelled further south, the timbre of the strory become singularly depressing, and virtually unleavened with the asides and insights that made the first portion so enjoyable. i suppose this might be partially because of the darker cast of the events post-wiking (i mean, spaniards vs. norsemen in a contest of levity? foregone conclusion!) but the feeling i got from the remainder of the book was of a wholly uninspired travelouge of places people would rarely care to visit even if one COULD be sure any of the purported historical events actually occurred there, which no one actually can.

suddenly "Plymouth Pebble" doesn't seem worthy of the mockery it receives in the opening chapter!

On the whole, i found this book a worthwhile read, though was disappointed with its unevenness. i felt like the momentum of the early chapters had totally dissipated by about 2/3rd though. And even though the final portions seemed long and drawn out, the end also felt rather abrupt back on the Massachusetts shore. I suppose if he hadn't raised my hopes for hilarious historical hyjinx, the overall impression would have been better. ah well.

New York : Thorndike Press, 2008.

tags: non-fiction, history, early america, humor

2008-05-23T15:41:00.001-07:00

The Anxiety of Everyday Objects by Aurelie Sheehan

"This book was a breezy 6 or 7 hours to get through. It was amusing if not terribly insightful or absorbing. Fairly typical girl-novel where nothing very consequential happens, but all is made well in the end by getting of crushable boy. Had so many aspects reminiscent of the movie "Secretary" I am convinced the author of the screenplay lifted much of the stroyline from this book. I found this a little distracting, particularly because I enjoyed the movie far more."Penguin (Non-Classics) (2004), Paperback, 288 pages

tags: romantic-comedy, fluffy, girl

Blatantly stolen from Lyza...

2008-05-23T15:41:00.000-07:00

is the following idea.

my personal life is a mess. and rather than a) complain about it relentlessly to the chagin of all OR b) go through a period of blog-io silence, i'm going to post about what i've been doing: reading relentlessly.

i sleep with the light on so that when i wake up any of the 4-9 times per night all i have to do is lift the book back up to my eyeline and start reading again. this prevents pesky nighttime thoughts from occurring for longer than it takes for my sleepy eyes to focus on the page. has lead to some weird dreams, but is overall a generally successful strategy for coping at the moment.

as a result, i have run through quite a few books recently, and have enjoyed putting in my 2 cents about what it is i think of said books. sadly, there haven't been many winners lately,(one always runs this risk when we play the sale table lottery) but i'm thinking my luck is about to change. AND i'm getting a library card so as not to bankrupt myself at Powells.

at any rate, i'm going to post a few of the book reviews i'v written as the fruits of my last few days of labor. enjoy!

nts nts nts

2008-05-12T15:01:00.000-07:00

went with friends lyza, david, and brett to the Armin VanBuuren show last night at the Roseland. i haven't been to a dance show since seeing John Digweed @ the crystal back in 2002? woah.

danced the whole set. was bathed in other people's sweat and excitement. overcame my usual crowd terror to follow lyza right up to the edge of the stage. was struck by the contrast in this show vs the multitude of other shows i've been to in recent memory...

crowd, though sweaty, smelled good and this is crucial. i was far less anxious being surrounded on all sides by people who didnt smell in a way that distressed me. people were generally polite and trying to take care of each other. stage hands tossed water out to the crowd and generally seemed to be trying to make sure everyone was feeling included. dj looked HAPPY. like he was genuinely enjoying himself instead of the faux-torment put upon by some musicians attempting to convey the seriousness of their art by dint of a glower.

there was jumping. there was smiling. there were various stages of undress. it was good times.

what the fucking fuck

2008-05-11T16:38:00.000-07:00

driving up canyon rd today. there's a speed trap, accordingly, i do not speed. i'm doing 35 thinking about the chores i have remaining and the show i am going to tonight, when i glance in my rearview mirror to see a black Durango EXCEEDINGLY close to my rear end.

i think to myself "what an asshole."
he stays menacingly close
i think to myself "what the fuck is his problem?"
there is plenty of room to go around me in the left lane
i think to myself "what the hell does he think he is doing"

and then he rams me.

its little more than a tap; frankly i can tell by the skill with which he executed the maneuver that he's probably done it before. i am stunned and frightened by this. and can only think: he did it on purpose. why would he do that??

i'm not going to stop for this person. this was no accident. and i know full well there is a police van about 2/3's of a mile up canyon (remember that speed trap i was trying to avoid?) and that is where i am headed.

and then, he races around me in the other lane and takes off. he's a few hundred yards in front of me when he then slows down dramatically and waits for me to come parallel with him. i look over into the SUV with a "what the fuck?" look on my face and he proceeds to smile and wave. he then peels off to the left and disappears up canyon crest.

i am, uselessly, so freaked out that i fail to look for a plate number. i mean, he was in a black durango. how many of those bloody fucking things are there in beaverton anyway? too many to even credit.

proceed next to hysterical, terrified, bewildered sobbing.

call police. without more identifying information, there's nothing to be done but for the nice officer to say he's sorry it happened.

Klaus seems mostly unscathed. still have touch up paint from accident in november, so i may make use of that for the handful of small scratches evident on the rear bumper.

call friends for comfort. one suggests park klaus and his distinctive plates somewhere else. when i mention this is impractical the advice is that i get some pepper spray as this happened so close to my house, they might see my car parked there and decide to come pick on me some more. strangely, this idea IS NOT IN ANY WAY COMFORTING!!!!

took myself to pedicure and mexican food as antidote. dancing later.

and breathe...

2008-05-10T14:47:00.001-07:00

i woke up this morning in the same mood i've been in for days. it's not a happy one. and yet, for some reason, as i walked past the lilac bush outside my front door, i plucked some blossoms and decided to breathe.

some time ago i was compelled to take a theology class. though it wasn't necessarily a choice i would have made on my own, i found the class deeply rewarding. not least because of the reading material the sister required for the class. as pertinent to this; Peace is Every Step by Thich Nhat Hahn. and though this is a simple book in every sense, it has offered some of the most practical and useful advice about life i have encountered. yet as simple as it is, i have been truly amazed at how easy it is to forget these truths.

Like:

breathe
smile
be gentle
attend to the smallest and most immediate pleasures
stay present in the moment

and i have not done as much of any of this as i should lately. and for some reason, on this soft grey spring day, i am finding it a little easier than usual. i think i can thank the lilacs...

i can never know

2008-04-29T21:38:00.000-07:00

something that hundreds of thousands of other fine people know: what it is like to relocate to portland.

being one of an increasingly uncommon passel of folks who were actually spawned and reared in this place, means i am surrounded by a whole mad herd of people who came here on purpose. and i feel lucky. because i want to spend the rest of my life here. it's like being in an arranged marriage where you actually happen to be madly in love with the partner someone else chose for you.

but i know i have missed out on some quintessential "uprooting an entire life" type experiences. and the bravery and faith required for such a leap is almost unfathomable to me. there have been no tarps secured over a pickup full of belongings. no dark nights of driving to a new town without a clear sense of how living there will feel. i have never had to get to know a new town. i have never had to discover the best route to anywhere, because i have always known it. i have never been presented with such a remarkable chance to create a tale about my life in surroundings unfamiliar to me.

and this seems like something i want to experience. but i cannot imagine bringing myself to go elsewhere just to feel it.

and it is always one of the first questions i ask: what made you choose this place? of all the places? what was it like to come here from wherever it was you came? what drew you here and what do you miss about where you're from. and what was the most fundamental change you underwent to become a portlander at last?

i imagine it is a journey that changes a person. hilarity and loneliness must ensue. the magic of this place is not lost on me for a moment, but i will never know the magic of this place as a stranger must.

everything hits at once

2008-04-25T10:23:00.000-07:00

indeed things are off at a gallop. and as in the old chinese proverb, living in interesting times might be something of a curse.

i can point to nothing that feels settled. no thing of which i am totally certain. no course to which i am fully committed. all the while i am in this profound and numbing flux, i am also swept along by circumstance. my faith, what will that i possess, the shred of patience i have constructed by dint of long effort, my brittle and inconstant self-assurance; all these are under siege.

yet, oh, the shining possibilities if only i can endure. the alluring fiction draws me forward, by degrees. but there is no certainty that i am being lured toward something that serves me. if i should look to these intimations and conjectures with any sort of confidence.

and what, then, to think of this desire i have to remake myself, body and soul, to be better equipped for a future i am not certain i want? what, then, of the desire to abandon things by which i have defined my life for so long, in pursuit of a goal less lofty but oh-so-much-more-accessible-seeming?

confronted, as i have been of late, with new people, experiences, avenues, and possibilities i feel that all has come into question. but in some more fundamental way than the way in which i always try to keep an open mind. i feel my compass has been dipped in lead and cannot find true north. that the reflection of myself i have always relied upon is somehow altered in some nebulous but profound way that no longer supplies me with a complete and meaningful truth about who and how i am.

and this scares me.

stupid oldness

2008-04-21T08:53:00.000-07:00

sigh.

friend lyza and i started a 10k training program this week. not actually going to run a 10k, just gonna train for one. this after about 9 months of depression induced inactivity. i love running. it makes me feel strong and i consistently get a gratifying runners high, so it's one of my preferred methods of getting/staying fit.

however. my joints are a'gin me. i've had trouble with hips, wrists, shoulders, elbows, and most pertinently here, knees. i bought some wonderful braces which allow me to run and ski in comfort, but i kinda hit the pavement pretty hard this week, and did it twice before i tried to ski on saturday.

the weather was lovely, despite it being kinda nasty in town. the snow was AMAZING. lots of it, and powder to boot. no wind. virtually no one on the mountain. conditions were pretty much ideal.

after about a dozen runs, i was kaput. usually i can ski for about 4 hours before my knees start to object with any vigor. to be fair, i skied pretty aggressively and got in a ton of runs really quickly since there was zero lift line wait, but i still felt like a wanker only skiing for 2 hours. good thing the lift ticket was cheap...

was meant to bike ride yesterday. uh, no. laid around in bed all day instead. ate a bacon waffle. probably undid any gains (losses) i managed with all that running and skiing. ah well. took some ibuprofen before my run this morning, seemed to help. may just need to do so preemptively from now on...

the way my luck goes

2008-04-19T11:09:00.000-07:00

is a little strange, i will admit. bad things happen to me all the time, but they somehow manage to never be as bad as they could be, so i end up feeling pretty lucky all things considered.

what happened to me on thursday is a classic example of this phenomenon.

i left work a wee bit early to make time to fetch hodie before my weekly therapy session. i came around the corner at 82nd and had a clackamas sheriff flip on his lights and pull me over. i was a little confused since i wasn't speeding (for once) and i knew all my tags and whatnot were current.

mr. officer comes to my window and takes my insurance, registration, and license only to say: "So did you know your license is suspended?"

to which i replied "wha-huh?"

apparently, when i was in a car accident in november and the officer on scene said i wouldnt need to file an accident report, he was full of shit. and so, they suspended me.

as it happened, the cop was a decent kind person and did not impound my car. so this is where my feeling of good luck comes in. it could have been so much worse. so. much. worse.

and it's all been resolved and tidied up. so. phew.

i want my blankie

2008-04-14T16:43:00.000-07:00

today has been one of those days that can't be objectively classified as bad, yet is still end up feeling unaccountably sad.

i mean, it wasn't totally smooth sailing. i did have a hiccup about not having my schedule properly calibrated, but i think i got over that about 7.5 hours ago.

still, i'm sad. and when i look at babies i want to giggle and cry simultaneously. and i think ridiculous things about people who love me, and see disater around every corner, and i know this means my ovaries are to blame, but despite this powerful awareness, i cannot make myself seem to feel any less utterly swept up in my mope.

and, of course, my physician is OUT OF THE COUNTRY and not due to return until after the month end. and we hadn't managed to finalize my rx yet.

so what i really want to do is take a hot bath (which i cant because my hot water heater is retarded) and curl up in my blankie and cry. but instead i'm going to try and run.

run run run.

i am certain

2008-04-10T08:55:00.000-07:00

that the contents of my purse say something about me. i think i like what it says...

obvious things like wallet and keys aside, we have;

Heidegger: Basic Writings
tin of dice
string of pearls
matchbook from favorite steakhouse
fuzzy socks for friend lyza
burt's bees lip shtuff
bust magazine
graphing calculator
laquered hairstick
extremely fancy log book with which to track expenditures (the irony therein not at all lost)
wine country chicken salad with cranberries and pecans from TJ's + wheat thins

feeling smug about how awesome i seem to myself this morning. :}

contents of your stachel? come on, i showed you mine...

dog mountain and the return of the black toenail of doom

2008-04-07T12:03:00.000-07:00

i'll be wearing open toed shoes for the rest of this week, regardless of the not-yet-actually-springlike weather. why? well...

someone i like a real lot suggested we hike up dog mountain. not knowing any better... i agreed. even though the weather was less than ideal, i slipped on my shiny new fleece and prepared to be a good sport. what followed was the first honest to god physical exertion i've even engaged in for about 9 months. not, i must say, the ideal way to re-initiate oneself. because though the hike is only about three miles, it is three miles straight fu&^%ng up.

about every 3rd switchback i had to stop and pant desperately. at some point one of my expensive already once replaced rigid gas permeable contact lenses LEAPT TO ITS DEATH out of my eyeball; i was breathing that hard. when we were about 2/3rds of the way up we reached the one and only actual bench-place to sit. and about 2 minutes after we plopped down it started to hail angrily and insistently down upon us. i think it was the hiking gods punishing me for my hubris, because the hail stopped about 5 seconds after we agreed to try and hide under cover of trees. sigh.

when we got up to the last mile remaining to reach the summit, it seemed we had coincidentally reached the snowline. and me in my capris no less. it was here that it hit me just how much i really DO like this person i like a real lot, because the only reason i made this last portion of the trip was to keep him from thinking i am a quitter or a wuss. plus also he held my hand and kinda towed me up the last 1/10th mile. i hear in the spring the wildflowers that bloom up there are breathtaking. however, the most breathtaking thing i saw was the place where the trail disappeared around the side of the mountain under knee deep snow.

and when we finally did reach the top all there was to see were the few trees we took shelter under and the bank of clouds that were still clinging to the mountaintop. i was so tired i couldn't even stand up for my victory summit snapshot.

and then, there was downhill. oh god.

i just got these shoes. i love them. they were amazing on the way up. good in the snow, nice and grippy, waterproof, lightweight... i was giving them a 10. but, well, they are about 1/2 size too small. and so, on the way down my toes were jammed into the front of the shoe in a way that just spelled owie. last time i had this feeling was coming down Neakhanie. and i lost the entire toenail on one side.

luckily i dont think it'll come to that, but its bad enough that i havent yet put on shoes.

Please: No Mo' Emo Ro Co

2008-04-04T12:24:00.000-07:00

k? it's been a bit of an ass kicker lately. and i mean, i'm used to sad. sad is manageable. sad is familiar. it's the whipsaw back and forth from giddy excitement and joy to anxiety and dismay i'm having the most trouble adapting to.

as much as i have courted chaos in the past, i think i need him to mount his storm-grey steed and ride out of my life for at least 6 months. even if what he leaves in his wake isn't necessarily the most ideal scenario as i'd envision it, to be able to rely on a little emotional consistency would be a great relief to me about now.

or, barring that, knowing full well it is more than i have any reason to expect, the whole serenity thing would be okay. that which i cannot change and so forth. i have actually begun to actively court the notion that i need new ways to self-soothe, since most of mine require the intervention of someone else. and breathing and mindfulness can only go so far. soporifics and comrades can only do so much. wrapping up in my blankie and reading my favorite book for the 14, 236th time has a limited power to soothe me.and this tends to make me feel vaguely lost and small. it's nice to lean on people who love me when i can, but sometimes, i just can't. sometimes i am profoundly alone and there is nothing to remedy the situation. as such, i need means to comfort myself in those moments. i wonder, sometimes what other people do, to ease their fears and sorrow. and i know the timbre of pain is as singular as each person, but i have this vain hope that someone might have a suggestion i can make my own.

i am a fan of the litany. i'm trying to create one for myself for these days.... and there is always my blankie.

why do the ghosties be haunting me?

2008-03-28T12:21:00.000-07:00

look. i'm willing to believe in a lot of weird crap that i do not understand: astrology, tarot cards, physics....

but i have never once had any cause to believe in ghosts. not that i think they don't exist, but rather, they don't tend to enter my version of reality. at least, they didn't used to...

this week however, they've been all over the damn place. the knocking pipes only being the first incidence of three. two days after, there was a loud almost gunshot like series of reports in the evening. but the last straw was yesterday when hodie comes in from getting something out of the car for me to say that she heard a loud rapping on the car window and my voice calling her, only to look up and see no one was there. i didn't tell her about the spookiness from earlier this week. she wasn't even around for the 2nd incident. but now, it seems to involve her. and this scares me even more.

i think it would bother me less if the overall sense i got wasn't so... angry. whatever it is that is employing these methods to get my attention seems perfectly content to terrorize me a little in order to get it.

i just want to go back to a world where me and the ghosties did not acknowledge each other's existence. please?

things that go bang in the night

2008-03-25T12:43:00.001-07:00

not that you perverts.

i've always been a lousy sleeper. i have to read or listen to a podcast in order to fall asleep in the first place, since i have a tendency to chase myself around in my head at night. i wake up at the drop of a hat. if there's any noise, or light, or persons, in the vicinity, i wake up.

someone suggested melatonin. i was skeptical, but since the suggestion came with a free sample supply, i decided to try it. pro: i did actually fall asleep quickly last night. con: i woke up about an hour later. i decided that i wanted to take a bath to warm up and hopefully drop off again quickly. well, that didn't quite work out as planned...

i live in a plex where there are many common walls. the plumbing is fundamentally interconnected. and i know full well that when i take a bath, my neighbors can hear it. i know this cause i can hear their showers. so when the banging started, i thought "finally all that screaming and moaning has driven them over the high side and they don't really want to listen to me bathe at 11pm. so i turned off my tap. but the banging, which was loud and persistent, went on well after i turned off the water. i could feel the vibration of the concussion vibrating the tub. and for some reason, this scared the shit out of me.

i got out of the tub, went to my front door, checked that it was locked. checked on hodie, (blissfully asleep; a freight train in the living room wouldn't wake her) and crawled cowering into my bed. somehow, i knew this banging was directed at me, and the source had a malevolent intent. i almost started crying. it paused briefly after about 10 minutes, but then resumed as loud and insistent as ever. finally i cranked up the air purifier to full blast to drown out the sound of the banging, pulled a pillow over my head, and prayed for sleep.

eventually i drifted off, but woke up several more times during the night, even though the noise had stopped. i was so wound up from being inexplicably afraid that i just never managed to relax in full. at about 5am i finally gave up and rose for the day, but with that malaise that seems to come with the clinging bad dream. you know what i mean: those dreams that linger and persist in bothering and distracting you long after you have woken and begun your day.

for some reason, i just could not shake off this feeling of unease and apprehension. it went on all morning. i finally had to resort to asking my co-worker to hug me before it would dissipate. and this bothers me. because i like to think i am a rational grownup person who can explain to herself that what was most likely a random plumbing problem does not represent a threat to me in any significant way.

and perhaps in the dark of the night, when senses fail to pierce the shadow cast over them, this can be excused, but in the full light of the afternoon, it just feels like a character flaw.

my love/hate relationship with coffee

2008-03-24T12:07:00.000-07:00

has actually, until recently, been a hate/loathe relationship. stumptown is primarily responsible for making me believe that java isn't necessarily the foulest substance in the known universe, but i'm hardly a fan.

however, i have come to accept, that in it's time and place, coffee can be a wonderful wonderful thing. or, perhaps more particularly, stimulants can be a wonderful wonderful thing.

usually, i'm pretty careful about when i attempt to harness this power for evil. cause as a person who can taste caffeine (not yummy) i tend to avoid things that contain it. as such, i'm pretty sensitive to it. so, when i have a cuppa at 7pm it is going to keep me cranking all night. and sometimes, when there is homework, or unavoidable chores, i simply must submit myself to this consequence for the sake of the greater good.

that being said, nothing needs to be coffee flavored as far as i can tell. because (with the exception of aforementioned stumptown, plus also haagen daas ice cream bars) all things coffee flavored taste like wretchedness. and so the lesson here i suppose is for me to realize that not all people feel this way, and that assuming that the protein shake is chocolate just because its brown is faulty reasoning. so.

roller derby: festooned with fuckery

2008-03-23T23:37:00.000-07:00

it is not often i can claim to have been in on something cool from its inception. however, in the case of the derby; i can. this is due mostly to hanging out with the right people, but still.

i was at 7 of the first 8 bouts the RCR's ever had, and let me tell you, it was a hell of a good time. i really enjoyed the carnival atmosphere, the adrenaline in the air, and the sort of hard-core-do-it-yourselfness that seemed to permeate the bouts. it was pretty much bitchin.

not everything went off without a hitch, but i never failed to be entertained by the experience.

sometimes, success ruins even the best ideas.

i understand these events are costly to put on, and the girls need equipment and practice space, and a travel budget, etc etc. however, the degree to which the derby has whored itself out at this point leaves me feeling more than a little dismayed. the announcers spend at least as much time schilling for the sponsors as they do commenting on the bouts, there has been (in my opinion) a very ill-advised change in how long the bouts run (perhaps to make people feel like they're getting their money's worth?) which leaves the audience exhausted (i can barely imagine how much harder it is on the skaters) and the very energy and grit that used to feel so genuine and appealing now seems put upon and strained.

it's really a bummer. i used to love to go out to the derby, but this time i barely made it til halftime. i really feel like a scaled back version which focused more on the skating and less on attempting to broaden the commercial appeal of what will always necessarily be a niche market sport would benefit the experience tremendously.

lessons i learned last night

2008-03-22T12:46:00.000-07:00

this wasn’t so much a restful week pour moi. i had some emotional confusion going on in the early portion which caused me to flee from my cozy and wonderful bed with its sheets of 300 counted threads and hunker down instead on the couch with OPB til Mr Rogers began to chirp his merry tune in the wee hours of the morning. when the emotional confusion relented enough to let me crawl back into my own bed, the child woke up in the night with horrible mysterious abdominal pains we thought we’d rid ourselves of. apparently not.

so, it was my intention to stay in last night. i had nine-trillion loads of laundry to fold, i was generally tired from the week, i had to work in the morning, and i figured an early night would do me good. i also figured that folding my laundry would be more fun with a little somethin-somethin.

what i failed to consider was that i frequently find myself locked in an eternal struggle when i have a little somethin-somethin: desperate desire to talk to people vs. wild paranoia.

i submitted to the first only moments before experiencing the second.

i need to learn to enjoy my chores unaided or leave my phone the hell alone.

Hodie Hilarity

2008-03-21T12:35:00.000-07:00

So,

the child has been after me to let her get a pet. i have been opposed to this because generally i am not in favor of:

cleaning up poop
small rodents in my house
creatures without advanced limbic systems in cages
pet based aromas

all of which tend to accompany the pets she is suggesting she become the owner of. i have encouraged her to make friends with the pencils who have all manner of pets furry and reptile, swimmers and scamperers alike. she views this suggestions with skepticism.

then, apparently inspired, yesterday she said the following: mom, what i really want is something other than a pet. how about instead of a HAM-ster, i get a SIS-ter!!

because a sibling really is the ultimate pet

hodie sez:

2008-03-19T17:34:00.000-07:00

if you are what you eat, it's better to be a potato than spaghetti. because potatoes are still kinda cute but spaghetti is not. plus it's totally not huggable but a potato pretty much is.

unassailable logic, that.

I know they’re wrong; wait and see

2008-03-17T19:51:00.000-07:00

Current mood: amused

yes, it’s that time again folks; talent show time.

last year hodie had a clear notion of her aim. puff baby. puff.

so, we puffed. it went fine. it’s not my favorite song. i was kinda tired of it by the end of our run.

this year she was at a loss. she didn’t really have a notion of what she wanted to do, except, well, obviously, sing.

so i suggested the best song in all the land. and she agreed. so i get to be kermit. if i knew how to play the banjo, it’d be even better, but as it stands, she’s lucky i can play at all.

oh and also, i am not allowed to sing along. ha.

my stupid neck

2008-03-13T12:02:00.000-07:00

still hurts. which was only annoying until it began to interfere with my ability to be the giver i am, and then became quite unbearable. tattoo seems to be healing better though.

turns out it’s snowing on the mountain. maybe there’s hope for one more day on the slopes before the season is over completely. finger’s crossed.

if not, spring sports are on their way. everytime i open the coat closet my tennis rackets beckon me, the discs for frisbee are just begging to be tossed around, my bike is dangling from its hook whispering my name, and of course, my dad won’t fucking shut up about us going golfing. which will be fun as long as he does not commit child-murder upon me for slowing him down too much on the links.

meanwhile i am trying to convince the offspring she is not in fact terrified of her trailer bike like she claims to be, but rather overwhelmed with JOY at the prospect of being dragged around behind my bike for the next few months. so far, there has been utter failing in this.

fuckow my neck

2008-03-11T12:41:00.001-07:00

fuckow my neck
Current mood: pained

it's kinda getting it from all angles.

for some reason my tattoo is not healing well at all. i've only ever had one act this way once before, and it was my very first. its very sore and flaky and peeling and dry and scabrous. sweet, huh? i've been trying to keep it moisturized, but until i hit upon the combo of triple antibiotic ointment and diaper cream, nothing seemed to be working very well. now i think i'm going to have to have the work re-inked so it doesn't look uneven and faded. which sucks, cause i'll have to heal all over again. pftft.

also, slept wrong on my head last night, which means i cant turn my head more than a few degrees without it hurting rather pointedly.

stupid lucky bird

I am going to be SO tough and cool!

2008-03-10T09:37:00.001-07:00

Friend lyza and i are going to take a motorcycle training course. if only we can convice emma to come too we will be the hottest book club/motorcycle gang in TOWN. and this being portland, that is saying something.

i am going to obtain the cruise-yest orange-est honda i can possibly find. just like this one. i almost knocked a girl off of her 550 SuperSport the other day. hodie agreed the girl was not nearly tough or cool enough to justify owning such a kick ass bike, and we should liberate it for ourownselves. because, obviously, we are. she, for one, cannot wait for mommy to become a biker bitch. i'm gonna get us matching helmets. it's going to be disgustingly cute. which will, in no way, interfere with either the toughness or coolness we will be simultaneously conveying.

hut hut HIKE!

2008-03-09T20:04:00.000-07:00

went tromping around some of the scenic spots in the SW Washington gorge area yesterday. weather cleared up in the afternoon and turned lustrous. went in the drink a bit at the river, but managed to dry out by the top of beacon rock.

Ahh stardom

2008-03-07T16:27:00.001-08:00

Ahh Stardom
Current mood: satisfied

oh, it went so well.

i liked the venue, cozy but with a reasonably good room sound. lots of spectators. very polite crowd. including many of my besties. could not make the AV equipment work, so there's no record of the event. but on a scale, i'd give the experience a 9. and that was with the voice being a bit unreliable.

and in my general spirit of self-indulgence as form of congratulation i went and treated myself to all sorts of goodness yesterday. new tattoo; turned out AMAZING and really gave the spine totem a sense of cohesion it had lacked previously.

lunch with les @ clay's. mmmm pork loin. little bit of sitting in the sunshine watching hodie ride her skateboard of doom. head shrinking and then thai food with excellent company. all told, an grand day indeed.

i do not have testicles, and yet...

2008-03-04T18:26:00.000-08:00

i can effect a variety of maintenance and repair operations on my own car.

i know. it's shocking.

i mean, it must be, since the sight of me in front of a car with its hood up, though in no apparent distress, causes men of all ages and stripes to be magnetically attracted to my person and thence required somehow to offer me advice about what i might want to do differently than whatever it is i am already doing, even if what i am doing happens to be the correct thing.

**

i replaced a headlamp bulb on Klaus today. it's really an extremely simple process. i can, and have, also replaced: brakes, plugs and wires, batteries, tires, dashboard components, various fluids, a gearshift, and even jimmy-rigged an undetectable plexi-glas replacement window. i think it is important to be able to manage these relatively simple mechanical tasks for oneself so as to be extra tough and cool in the eyes of sweaty men-beasts. oh, no wait, actually because people should just be able to handle basic maintenance for themselves no matter what their gender.

yet, no one wanted to leave me in peace to make this repair. at least none of the random dudes at the NAPA on 82nd anyway...

** i am aware this is not a photo of me working on my current car, but you get my point...

fuck fuck fuck fuck

2008-03-03T19:12:00.000-08:00

and also fuck.

i suppose it's fairly plain to anyone that knows me at all that i am a terrible brat. i like to get my way, i'm insufferably vain, and i complain vociferously if all does not go according to plan.

so i shall commence here by pointing out that contracting the clinging cold from the depths of the 9th circle of hell a week and a half before my show was most certainly not according to any plan of mine.

so, fuck.

i figured that a week and a half should be plenty of time to recover. and i suppose, i must admit, things are better than they were. thursday before last i could only croak. now i'm back at about 80%. but i simply must point out... that sucks.

i mean, i'm hardly a virtuoso on the guitar. passing fair is generous. what i have, what i am is a voice. it's the best thing about me and it's being unreliable at the worst possible time. which makes me want to cry and break things. instead i'm going to take a break and fold some laundry.

My Kid, She's funny

2008-02-29T14:00:00.000-08:00

Current mood: amused

so hodie and i were talking about my tattoo next week

and she was all... "i know why they dont let kids get tattoos"
(me)"cause they'd get something stupid?"
(she) "well yeah, that, but also cause they are like the worst pain ever"

(me) "i've had worse pain..."

(she)"what kind? i mean besides emotional"

hahahahahahaha
she knows me so well

The Return of the Internets

2008-02-29T07:01:00.000-08:00

when certain things go missing from your life, you realize their true place in your heart.

it's been like six fucking months since i had an internet connection at my house. praise be to jebus that has finally been rectified.

i shudder to think how much internet porn i have missed out on!

that's all behind me now. back to compulsive messaging, rambling blogs at strange hours, management of internet stalkers, and scouring the missed connections to see if i've made an impression on some random stranger who might offer me some validation! it's a wonder i survived.

finalized set list for show next week. voice is slowly returning. excitement growing. audience expanding. hoot.

Its only fun to be a maniac if you are an exotic dancer/welder in an 80’s movie

2008-02-28T12:24:00.000-08:00

Its only fun to be a maniac if you are an exotic dancer/welder in an 80’s movie
Current mood: anxious

which, as it turns out, i'm not.

yesterday was a doozy. despite many deep breaths and attempts to avoid jabbering relentlessly at everyone in my vicinty, i had a bit of a spaz day. at one point i was trembling so hard my co-worker wrapped her arms around me and then made me go outside to sit in the sunshine. it helped. but still. i only like to tweak when i set out to do it on purpose. this kinda caught me off guard.

and there is no sleep. ok, technically, there are about 2 1/2 hours of sleep. per night. for like 5 days. and i can't really eat. and the only thing i have an appetite for isn't as readily had as i'd prefer. and yes, my house is immaculate and my journal is up to date for the first time in forever, i'm feeling a little overclocked.

It's BLOG it's BLOG!

2008-02-26T18:38:00.000-08:00

it's better than bad, it's good!

this has been a weird month. on the whole, i'd have to call it for the team of good rather than the team of evil, seeing that a few SUPERAMAZING things have happened, but since there are like 3 days of it left i am withholding judgment. the balance could tilt. you never know.

i'm quivering in anticipation i tell ya.

and i'm sick. which sucks ass. and i would be happy to be finished with aaaaaaanytime now. it's going to be pretty fucking anticlimactic if i work myself up into this frenzy over my very first show (fuckall, i'm getting a TATTOO to commemorate the experience) only to have it suck various kinds of ass because this cold has turned my voice into a frog's wet dream.

but apparently i still sound good on the internets! one of the superamazing things that happened was that one of my very favorite musical-hero-local-diva-glorious-songstress types responded to my friend request by complimenting my voice. this, equals happiness.

other things have equaled happiness too, but i am far too discreet to talk about them here to you people.

except for the ongoing progress i've made cleaning my house. its so cool to be able to see the floor. and not come close to breaking my ankle every time i take a trip into the kitchen. sometimes it is those simple pleasures...

sunriver summation

2008-02-19T11:22:00.000-08:00

went w/ the pencils to bend to enjoy the birth of various presidents (ie:carousin) weather was amazing. hot tub deliciously hot. feats of strength impressive. shotski complicated but successfully done. games entertaining. company enjoyable. specific company especially. wanted to make out. didnt. regretting same slightly. sigh.

went up to smith rock and had an amazing hike. heart poundingly, ass-cheeks achingly, calves protestingly amazing.

The triumph of Minutia

2008-02-14T15:49:00.000-08:00

its been a rough month or seven for me.

a testament to this is the chaos into which my homestead has decended. it's been kinda awful. and i say that as a person who has a remarkably high threshold for disarray.

but, for some reason, the light works on me in those ways. so i cleaned my house. like, woah.

i discovered i will not need to purchase shampoo or conditioner for the remainder of the decade if i just use what i already have. i think i have a bit of an acquisition fetish...

i also did something that's been over a year in coming; i peeled the painters tape down off of the trim in my bedroom. if telepathy was possible, i would be projecting this information out into the mind of a particularly fastidious ex of mine. and i know it would make his day.

i cleaned dust out from places that have not seen the light of day since i moved in. i took the wood stipper and varnish out of my linen closet and put it in the storage room. i created a pile of laundry as high as my hip. i vacuumed out the INSIDES of cupboards and closets. i cobwebbed and disinfected and bleached and scrubbed every surface in the rear 3rd of my house. Only 2/3rds left to go!!

and yet the satisfaction of all of this flurry of activity is profound. and since i have no one to hug and kiss and smooch on this heart day, at least i can give myself a hearty pat on the back.

You know what'll give you weird dreams?

2008-02-12T14:02:00.000-08:00

Falling asleep on the couch when you are all emotional and having a show about elephants come on, and then something on Nova about sulfur springs, and then Jane Austen and then kinda waking up four or five or seven or nine times a night.

yep.

The Hunger Inside Me

2008-02-12T14:01:00.001-08:00

is being caused by my ovaries. My toublesome, pesty ovaries.

It is not being caused by the need for actual food. Because I had some. Ok, I had a lot. Since waking up this morning I have eaten the following:

2 Black Cherry and Almond Clif Bars
3 handfuls of Chocolate Covered Pistachios
2-4 handfuls of Trader Joes Salt and Vinegar Potato Chips
1 6" Spicy Italian Sub
1 small bag Sour Cream n' Onion Lays
3-7 Wild Fruit Savers

And the morning ain't over yet. Jesus.

Plus also, that other hunger I am too much of a lady to mention here. The one in my pants.

Later:
Green Tea Frappucino
Nuts
Goldfish crackers

Someone may need to tackle me to stop this madness...

Beggars still turn out choosy, in my case...

2008-02-11T12:58:00.001-08:00

spent some time in the studio on saturday. went ok. of course, once we'd finished and i got home and listened to the cd we made, i wanted to cringe over and over and over and over.

sigh.

this is why albums dont get made in a day.

then i fell asleep on the couch cause i felt all oogy. woke up to Austin City Limits: James Blunt. the whole "you're beautiful" thing notwithstanding i REALLY REALLY REALLY like him. a lot. so i went out and bought both of his cd's yesterday. and got yelled at (justifyably) by my co-worker this morning for listening to the most tear-jerking song on the album about 17,267 times in a row.

also of note: aria believes that the natural enemy of the pirate is the ninja.

and i know at least 20 people who would go see THAT movie.

plus. i know what i'm getting for my next tattoo. so i can save the owl for later and bigger places on my totem pole.

Oh. My. God.

2008-02-05T11:58:00.000-08:00

Was offered a show. Booked it. Very, very excited. Almost beside myself.

March 5th 8pm @ The Chaos Cafe & Parlour.

http://www.myspace.com/chaoscafe

If you're interested....

Yippee yippee yay. and also hooray.

2008-01-13T20:02:00.001-08:00

it was a beautiful beautiful day on the mountain. not a hint of wind, lovely and perfect. I had an excellent first day out with lots of good runs and no hurting myself. a triumph. if my luck holds i wont wake up in the morning feeling like someone beat me with sticks.

Here's hoping.

..

although for a day like this, it'd be worth it...

Grand Central Boo-wl

2008-01-05T12:16:00.000-08:00

Alright, dammit. I wanted this to go better than it did. I wanted the NEW Grand Central to be a place where I could wander in, bowl, have a drink or two, and generally enjoy the close-in SE location. Alas; it sucks. Ass. Hard.

I have some pretty serious nostalgia for this place for totally retarded but nevertheless compelling reasons. And I could not be more delighted with the rehab the outside of the building has undergone since its closure some years back. However, the choads who handled the inside are fucktards to the max.

The general consensus was that this place looked like someone had turned the Doug Fir into a bowling alley with less character and the most wretched soundtrack ever to have blared out of speakers. In the course of the 2 hours we were there we were subjected to: The Human League (tolerable), Barenaked Ladies (awful), Dave Matthews (unforgivable), Lifehouse (ditto), Blues Traveler (likewise), Devo (fine), Ah-Ha (totally acceptable), and Belinda Carlyle (meh). What moron selected this playlist?? Mother-of-God.

The multi-colored runway lights were annoying, and the giant screens should have been put to use in some better way than providing video accompaniment to aforementioned musical ear-rapine. Like playing "The Big Lebowski" and "Kingpin" on a continuous loop. Which is really the only use they could reasonably be put to.

The bowling was ri-donk-ulously expensive, the service was pushy and over-attentive, the whole "VIP" lounge thing was utterly retarded, and even after all that, the fucking bowling mechanism itself had pretty serious recurring bugs which bit into our hour of bowling enough to cause some of our players to be unable to complete their 10th frame. Weeeeeak.

SO! Its back to the Hollywood Bowl which has a comfortably dive-y feel and karaoke. Fuck you GC. Fuck you in all the way down the alley.

P.S. I did manage to come out with the highest overall score for the evening. :}

I overreact: part the 198546th

2007-12-27T15:33:00.000-08:00

Current mood: Chagrined

Ok, so I was mislead. By many factors. And it is better to err on the side of caution where hodies are concerned, but i still feel like a bit of a wanker. Teach me to listen to Portland area news outlets weather predictions. Ever.

When we got home last night there were HUGE FAT snowflakes falling from the sky. All the weather reports were talking about 5-7 inches of accumulation at 500ft or above. Sylvan Hill crests at 750ft so I was thinking... um...I shouldnt leave my kid there and then have a ton of snow keep me from getting back. So I brought her to work with me. And her gamecube.

Needless to say, no such storm manifested. HUGE shock. Ah well.

I feeeeeeeeeeel you, Joanna

2007-12-26T12:36:00.000-08:00

Sweeney Todd. Loved it.

Wasn't exactly what I expected, but still quite good. It was songier than I thought it would be. I suppose its genesis as an opera should have clued me in that there wouldn't be much dialogue. The vocals were all much better than I anticipated. And in typical Burton style, the darkness didn't preclude a grim humor of which I am singly fond.

So, though I would not recommend it unstintingly as I have some other films recently, I do think its worthwhile.

Happy Ho Ho Ho~

2007-12-25T19:54:00.000-08:00

Mine was merry this year. Instead of opting for the tradition of the last 4 years which amounted to "spend christmas alone and crying at the movies" I went over and had the holiday with my sisters and their families. T'was grand.
We invented a new tradition this year which I am as yet undecided about; hide the pickle. Yes, that's right, we took a tiny shiny replica of a wee koser dill and hung it on the green green tree. Then whoever was able to find it first amongst the piney boughs was the designated present passer-outer. I opted not to look for the pickle and instead focus on my amaretto to become the official couch passer-outer.
I messed with the mind of my small child in amusing ways to make her think I had given her 5 video games for a gaming system nobody had. Then plopped said system into her lap. Watching the arc from disappointment to giddy delight is far too entertaining for me. My poor poor offspring. I totally set her up.
Merry Merry Christmas y'all.

I need buddies!

2007-12-19T12:37:00.000-08:00

For Sweeney Todd this weekend...

You KNOW you want to see this film. Come with me please? It'll be fun! We can have adult beverages before and/or after!

Pretty please?

In my whipsawing life little is certain...

2007-12-17T11:51:00.000-08:00

except that you should go see Juno. Seriously. This was the sweetest, most hilarious, and lovely movie I have seen in forever. Plus Michael Cera rocks so hard it is hard to believe.

Free Work Schwag

2007-12-13T15:57:00.000-08:00

Yet another reason I heart my new job continually. Merry Christmas to me..........

Mice? Seriously?

2007-12-08T12:17:00.000-08:00

Seriously.

Mice ate through my console. Mice chewed off the wires that operated my gas flap release. MICE ate through the rubber liner inside my driver-side door (which, to be fair, was covered in chocolate). I therefore hate mice. Even more than before.

Why they are living in the garage at the body shop I do not know. I would think there were better places to scrounge a meal that in a repair garage. Mice are stupid.

I mean, considering the floor of my car is uniformly littered with all manner of taco bell, macdonalds, jack-in-the-box, and burger king miasma, you would think they could find something tastier than my electronic components.

I love Klaus

2007-12-06T16:02:00.001-08:00

I do NOT however, love the bastards who have had their grubby little mitts on him all these past few weeks. I finally manage to escape the purgatory-on-wheels that IS the Ford Mucous only to discover some day-and-a-half later that someone BROKE the console in the middle of my car and CUT THE WIRES which operate my gas can flap release.

SO when I pulled into the gas station (typically, on fuuuuuuuuumes) the attendent looks at me like I am a retard because the repeated attempts to open said gas flap are unsuccessful.

Now everyone knows I am usually VERY SKILLED at opening my gas flap. In fact, I rarely shut my gas flap. So I find it very distressing indeed when I cannot do so when and whither I will.

They took it back. Ostensibly they are fixing it. They dropped me off at work, so as of this moment, I do not know how I am going to get back to my car, or thence, home.

Fuck.

I meant to reccommend

2007-12-05T10:11:00.000-08:00

No Country For Old Men the latest offering from the estimable Cohen Bros.

I went and saw this film two weekends ago and I am still feeling the creepy-crawlies about it. This is the first time I can recall having literally squirmed out of my seat with the intensity created on screen.

The subtle psychological violence was far more powerful than a typically overblown graphic thriller-gore. The stoicism of the inexorable antagonist more distressing for the veracity of his detachment. The eerie lack of a score far more immediate than any orchestrated tell.

I cannot recommend this film in terms strong enough. So, go see it man.

I fall down alot...

2007-12-03T11:32:00.000-08:00

Certainly a lot more than any other adult I know anyway. I guess if I reflect on the matter at any length, I can say I'm not the most coordinated person I know, and its true my balance cannot be said to be the best around, but still. There's something so profoundly shocking and embarrassing about falling down when you are a full-grown adult. It rivals the aching that goes along with it for the next 3 or 4 days.

Life lesson #45387: Just because you hook your finger into someone's belt loop doesn't mean they aren't going to keep walking away.

Right.

I hate Chistmas, kinda

2007-11-28T12:52:00.001-08:00

Tis the season I start crying: wha wha wha wha wha. wha wha wha snort.

On the plus side, there is Almond Roca everywhere. Also the smell of pine. And hot lights.

The problem is, i really really really DO buy into the whole seasonal delusion that something magical and beautiful is supposed to happen. And that it requires the expenditure of time and money for that magic and beauty to occur.

My child does NOT want to go to the woods to hack down a fresh christmas tree for only $5. She lectured me about how it was mean to kill a tree that is out in the forest minding its own business providing us oxygen and scenery.

She also does not want to go see Santa at the newly remodeled Santaland at the Historic Meier and Frank building. Screw you, it's still Meier and Frank to me and always will be. This despite my EXTREME nostalgia for this place where I saw the Gingerbread Bear as a child. She doesn't seem to find MY nostalgia compelling for some reason, now that she is too tall to ride the monorail.

What DOES she want? A new Christmas dress and an iPod. Things I cannot afford, but feel extremely guilty about being unable to provide.

I do however look forward to all the singing and yelling. In the car mostly.

When it rains....

2007-11-21T15:45:00.001-08:00

someone horks.

Ok, technically, that's not how that goes; except this week, it is.

Because I am a person who avoids vomit and/or vomiting with all the will I have at my disposal.

And speaking of having at my disposal, when I got home from the ER where they gave me Vicodin on an empty stomach, that's exactly what I did. Because the toilet was too far away. Blea-ah.

And today, after my chiropractor appointment made me late for work, I get a phone call from daycare telling me that Aria has "thrown up a little" No-EH! Gramma Bev to the rescue thank goodness.

But I do find it disturbing that every member of my household vomited this week. I hope the trend does not continue.

Crashing Sucks.

2007-11-19T14:39:00.000-08:00

I'm fine. My car is munched. It was my fault. Stupid intersection at 14th and West Burnside. As additional punishment, I have to drive a Focus until my repairs are complete.

Splitting headache.

Poop.

Sometimes

2007-11-15T11:42:00.000-08:00

it is naught but the nuance of language that stands between me and the brink.I am chased and chasing words and implications; distinctions so fine as to be illusory, when this chimera is the best comfort to be hoped for.

and yet, i am comforted, by these faint and futile particularities. by the refusals transmuted to avowals. by a glance, by clasping, by tones and timbre.

and thus the dazzling dark is pierced.

Current mood: contemplative

The patients in my clinic

2007-11-14T13:10:00.000-08:00

Are extra-strength hilarious.

A little old lady I was testing this morning told me "You look like one of those ladies on tv. You know, the ones who sell things?" I can honestly say no one has ever compared me to a QVC lady before, but I think it was about damn time.

Then, just now, I was checking some guy's insurance benefits and told him he'd be eligible again in 2008 and he looked at me and said "Well, when in aught-eight will that be?"

Aught-Eight?

That is augh-some.

Ovaries: Where can I relinquish mine?

2007-11-10T14:13:00.000-08:00

I mean, they came in handy when I was trying to do that whole "reproductive" thing, but those days are behind me now, and frankly, apart from keeping the facial hair at bay, I can see no further use for mine.

They do however cause considerable annoyance to me at regular intervals. The ups-and-downs of life are one thing, but the 45 degree turns and screeching halts of my menstrual cycle are quite another. Also, I see no further use for a libido when I have no one handy to make use of it with, besides which the recently evolved habit of drooling over the inappropriately young football playing patients in the office is distracting me from important paperwork.

So, I just need to figure out where the local drop-off site is. I mean they recycle them don't they? Like Christmas trees?

If you are reaching for YOUR laptop rather than mine in this situation...

2007-11-08T12:07:00.001-08:00

I think it's best if we just stay "friends"

One Misty Moisty Morning...

2007-11-08T09:36:00.000-08:00

When cloudy was the weather...

I broke out my woolen socks this morning. I'm wearing a turtleneck and hiking boots. It is officially lumpy wardrobe weather. On the plus side this also means I can wear my hideous and hugetastic harvest-gold corduroy winter coat complete with woolen plaid lining and a sash. I got it at Goodwill 6 years ago for $12 and I have never ever loved a coat with such abandon. Also my mittens which fold back in half to reveal fingertip-less gloves. Oh yes, I love them.

So I'm happy it's cold enough for those....

An addendum to this train of thought: cable knit tights. A favorite of school girls everywhere; I need some, yo.

Life in 3-D

2007-11-05T12:28:00.001-08:00

Well, o.k. technically, I still don't have depth perception; but that's all about to change...

I had my first round of Vision Therapy last Friday. It was really exciting, and Dr. Nancy had very encouraging things to say about my prospects, but oy vey with the headache!

Basically it all amounts to lots of eye exercises and funny accoutrement. Yes, that's right folks; the return of the eyepatch! Not only that, but also a pair of SUPER snazzy red/green goggles the purpose of which is to try and see the world in brownish instead of what I currently see: 2 of everything in Christmas colors. I really really want to find one of the pointy-bead-topped things Dr Nancy uses for me to follow with my eyes instead of using my finger or a pen. If there is an opportunity for a shiny accessory to accompany any activity, you know I will begin the coveting of it post-haste.

Already I'm noticing changes. This morning when I opened up my eye to look around, it took me a full 2 seconds to determine whether I was looking with my good eye or my bad one. True, I was face down and looking at my nightstand, which isn't far away, plus my vision is always a little blurry after sleeping on my face and the coincident eye-squashing that goes along with it. But this was monumental. I have never been not-sure which eye I was seeing out of before. Heady stuff.

As soon as those headaches ease up, I'll be golden. Well, brownish anyway.

My favorite part of trick or treating...

2007-11-03T10:41:00.000-07:00

Apart from it being over that is...

Bestest Pre-Birthday Birthday Weekend EVER!

2007-10-29T20:10:00.001-07:00

I like: Shopping, sunshine, being the center of attention, mimosa, my friends, fried chicken and waffle, copulating, going on trips, laughing, soaking, gossiping, drinking, exploring, and mexican food. And my weekend contained all of this.

Oh, yes, that hat? It says birthday princess. Hells yeah.

Had my birthday brunch at Meriwether's on Saturday with all of my favorite friends (less a few who couldn't make it) and had a really awesome time. I blew out my birthday candle with my laughter, so that's always a good sign...

Sunday I went with Mr & Mrs Pencil over to Bend to see David Sedaris give a reading. Which was hysterically funny. All I can say is, I now have th burning desire to learn more about Nicaragua.

Turkish soaking pool and a free show came next. I had no idea McMenamins offered a "Humping Hideaway" in the corner of the pool, but apparently the couple that was in there when we arrived got some sort of memo we missed. Plus, after they got done dry (?) humping in the corner, they changed right there in front of us. I was not expecting to see wet naked ass that night, always a pleasant surpise!

The weather was amazingly beautiful right up until we were headed back to Portland, but anytime it's 65 in late October, I am for it. Took the McKenzie Pass back across the divide, and though a remarkably twisty route and thus not the most time-efficient, incredibly scenic and interesting.

Still have the actual day to look forward to on Wednesday, not to mention starting the new job tomorrow. My thirties are already extra-bonus awesome!

True 'dat

2007-10-26T14:13:00.001-07:00

How hard it is, sometimes, to trust the evidence of one's senses! How reluctantly the mind consents to reality.
- Norman Douglas

The Halloween Hoodlum or The Purloined Pumpkin

2007-10-23T08:21:00.000-07:00

Ahh family fun!

We went out to the haunted fantasy trail last night. We were treated to dry weather of moderate temperature and a waxing moon to set the spooky-ness at full blast. We got out to Wenzel Farm after dark and the whole place was lit up. Aria has expressed some trepidation about going after dark, thinking it would be too scary to take, but we all agreed it was much more fun at night.

We did the haunted castle, wandered back through the woods, and ran the pirate ship labyrinth all as usual. Managed to jump out and holler at key moments for the rewarding shrieks of my child. Good times.

Technically, this place isn't a pumpkin patch. They bring in pumpkins and scatter them around the trail, and if you want one, you can pay $4 to take one home. Considering I'd only be paying .19 cents a pound down at WinCo, I was not having any of it. Aria already had a pumpkin patch pumpkin, plus I had one left over from the pumpkin carving party I attended over the weekend. I felt like we were well stocked.

As we were winding up our visit Aria began looking around at the various pumpkin options available. We climbed the final hill up to the parking lot and I told her again I had no intention of paying $4 for a pumpkin when I already had one in the car. So my sister and I walk over to the car and get in, talking about the pictures we had taken and whether they'd turn out. I start the car and hear the pounding of little feet running toward the car. I turn around to see Aria sprinting up to the back door arms full of a gigantic pumpkin. She opened the door dumped the pumpkin in the backseat, climbed in over it and said:
"Come on let's go!" To which I replied.
"Where'd you get that pumpkin?"
"Well, you said you didn't want to pay for one."

Now, I realize that the responsible and parental thing to do would have been to lecture her sternly, make her return the pumpkin, and apologize. So, what I did instead was laugh my ass off and let her keep the spoils of her illicit pumpkin-snatching exploits.

I have a faulty moral compass.

The Songs in Sleep

2007-10-22T10:29:00.001-07:00

So, occasionally I will have this weird, but basically cool thing happen: I will fall asleep, sometimes dream, though not always, and wake up with a song-fully formed-written in my head. I have learned to keep paper and writing utensils handy so as to make record of these sleep-songs, because if I just go back to sleep thinking I'll remember them in the morning, I wont.

These songs are always at least as good as what I can write when I am fully awake and engaged in the songwriting process in earnest. Sometimes better. It happened to me all the time when I was a child, but I didn't have the presence of mind or musical language to translate these songs into anything permanent. Sometimes I would wake up crying at how lovely and necessarily transitory they were. Now I have the means to capture them and I'm struck by something else: they're always happy, too.

Anyone who's listened to my body of work knows that this is, in itself, unusual. My frame of mind, intellectual and emotional propensities, and singing voice all lend themselves more naturally to down-tempo minor key songs about... well... that one guy. Even Aria pointed this out to me the other day as I was writing a song. Her grandmother asked what it was about and Aria said
"Probably the same thing ALL her songs are about." to which I replied,
"Oh, yeah? What are all my songs about?" she rolled her eyes
"_____"
Oh. Right. Him. Although, as it turned out, I managed to make that one about a flood instead. Uplifting stuff!!

But last night, in the cradle of slumber, after having some WHACKED OUT dreams, I woke up with the first verse of a song, sweet and cheerful, twirling in my head. So I wrote it down. And I like it already. It makes me happy to sing it. So, I guess I do care if I sleep. There is some good it can do. And I have the Red Paper Flowers to prove it....

America: FUCK YEAH!

2007-10-19T16:19:00.001-07:00

Call Me Sabella

2007-10-19T15:35:00.001-07:00

You Are A Vampire

You have a real thirst for bliss, and you consider yourself a true hedonist.
And you're not afraid to walk alone in life, if it means getting what you truly crave.
You truly enjoy entrancing people. Not to mention the ensuing pleasures of the flesh.
Your tastes have been called decadent and bizarre. You usually give in to your temptations, no matter how primal

Your greatest power: Your flawless ability to seduce and charm

Your greatest weakness: Human flesh

You play well with: Werewolves

What Kind of Monster Are You?

All we can do is keep breathing...

2007-10-19T10:15:00.001-07:00

Which is supposed to help, but sometimes doesn't. No amount of breathing is going to change the fact that things are scary and sad. It might change the intensity of the scary or sad feelings, but they don't go away.

If only, like Hansel and Gretel in reverse, I could follow my own breath forward to unlose myself. I suppose that is what's happening, if only in slow motion. Progress so incremental and elusive to observation as to be mythical.

And the temptation is powerful and recurring to keep my breath inside, to trail after it back into myself and hide there away from the light of the truth that hurts me so much that it steals the very breath I mean to pursue.

But instead, mostly, I chase after it out. Though it carries with it noises and meanings that would otherwise stay within, and I'm unsure they should have got out at all.

I wonder what I take in, and what goes away from me further, with each successive breath.

Nostalgic Goopery

2007-10-18T12:36:00.001-07:00

I am a sentimental sap. I cry at movies, and t.v. and songs about Michigan. I don't know why, but it has always been so. I become unaccountably attached to inanimate objects, like my 1980 Datsun 510 Station Wagon which I WEPT over having towed away many many months after its practical purpose as a mode of transportation was completely over. I'm not a pack rat, but I do care about holding on to a handful of things that have special resonance for me. And this is more true for books than anything else.

When I was born in 1977 my grandparents gave me (via my parents) a beautiful book of fairy tales as a gift. The stories are dusky without being dark or scary, the illustrations are phenomenally beautiful and intricate, and this book has been the measure against which all things fairy have been compared ever after.

As one might expect, this book, being as old as I am, has seen better days. The cover has come completely off, pages have been missing from Thumbellina since I was tiny, and small rotten offspring belonging to my sister have drawn in it. So, I have been on the lookout for a copy in better condition for quite some time. Being out of print, British in origin, and 30 years old has not made tracking one down an easy task.

Then suddenly this morning, I looked on Amazon and a little tiny bookseller in Grants Pass has one in good condition for an utterly reasonable price. I was nearly beside myself with joy. So.

I'm making a pilgrimage to southern Oregon to fetch it. I loved the last trip I made down south more than I would have predicted, so I'm very much looking forward to making my way down there again. And I like the absurdity of driving all the way to Grants Pass to get a book I already have just for the sake of immersing myself in the past.

This is what internal conflict looks like:

2007-10-17T15:19:00.000-07:00

At least according to google image search. Or maybe an upsetting gastro-intestinal event.

But I cant tell because there is no mirror in front of me at the moment to reflect it since it is what I am experiencing at this very moment. The conflict I mean.

Oh my curvy pillow, why hast thou betrayed me?

2007-10-17T08:28:00.000-07:00

I bought you particularly to avoid what I am feeling right at this very moment. The pain. All weekend I toted you around, even whilst I slept at a funny angle in my car you remained true and valiant. Why in my own bed on a random Tuesday night, do you fail?

Cause, now... well... owie.

Would you if you could?

2007-10-16T15:01:00.000-07:00

With the quiet returned to you, you are no more inclined to try. Whatever recompense once served, doesn't any longer. Once you might have, but now you have come to see the wisdom of this way and it comforts you. No more longing. Lucky you.

p.s. you are the one riding the robot.

Sometimes, fun = ouch.

2007-10-15T09:49:00.000-07:00

Ah, the weekend. A time for fun and relaxation, and drinking, and pain.

I decided this weekend was going to be JAM PACKED with fun, so I filled it up to the very brim with activities which included:

~Party in Lyle with campfire, cider, much revelry.
~Trip to Seattle for visiting cousin & general troublemaking.
~Possible trip to hot springs (failed).
~Sleeping in my car.

Apart from my realization that getting to the Olympic Hot Springs from Seattle is like a 3 hour endeavor, rather than the hour and a half I expected, all of these activities turned out to be quite fun. And diverting.

While in Seattle I was treated to a scooter ride. Which was awesome. I love motorcycles, but this was my first time on a Vespa. It was a quality experience. Went out to Discovery Park right around sunset. Drove through Magnolia, which was just stunningly beautiful, and walked out to the lighthouse. The weather was perfect, the sunset golden and pink.

Nighttime called for city-going: a gay bar complete with vintage prison porn circa 1964, naughtiness in a photo booth, street food, the most amazing wallpaper I have ever seen, and the cha cha lounge, the awesomeness of which I can only describe thusly: Underground, festooned with crap on every available surface, lit entirely with red bulbs. Sweet.

And all of this was grand. Plus I got to meet cousin's new beau who is so cute I just wanted to squish his head. Seriously. Grilled cheese for breakky. Tasty.

And then, came the consequence for all this fun. I began to notice my inner thighs and sacrum were emitting a crescendo of protest as the day went on. True, I'd been pressed into the metal frame on the back of the scooter for a while, but it hadn't hurt at all at the time, and even though I had to spread my knees enough to straddle the driver I didn't feel at all strained on the ride.

Well. Now. Apparently, I'm not as flexy and bendy as I like to think. Who the hell would have thought I needed to stretch before getting on a scooter for chrissakes? I suppose I'll know better next time...

I am a fucking cream puff!

2007-10-12T16:05:00.000-07:00

Everybody knows I like to pretend to be all tough and cool, but that I am all goopy and smooshy in the middle.

And someone called me caustic today. They meant it as a compliment, but still. I'm not caustic. I mean, I'm not going to take your skin off or anything.

Am I caustic? Seriously?

This scares me

2007-10-12T09:14:00.001-07:00

But in the best possible and most interesting way.

Word to Emma on this one

http://www.ted.com/talks/view/id/162

The Best Game Idea EVER!

2007-10-11T10:21:00.001-07:00

The only thing I know about this is its name: Super Monkey Poop Fight. Yet I stand by my claim with no more than that to go on.

Boo Scary Boo

2007-10-11T09:16:00.001-07:00

Aria went to the pumpkin patch yesterday. She selected what has to have been the smallest gourd to be found on Sauvie Island. What's more, she doesn't want a bigger pumpkin. She likes them compact and tidy. Perfectly round and symmetrical. And, she doesn't like to carve them. Instead she drew two faces on either side of the pumpkin. Comedy and Tragedy meet Halloween.

But we are not yet done pumpkin patching. Oh, no. We will go out again next week to enjoy one of our few consistent holiday traditions of any kind: The Haunted Trail at Wenzel Farms. Though there is a somewhat less-than-stellar pumpkin patch at the end of said trail, we've discovered that's not really the point.

A few pumpkins are scattered on the ground (which I am willing to bet are imported for the purpose) and you're free to help yourself if you want to carry one back past screaming animatronics and through the pirate ship labyrinth. Instead the fun comes from tromping through the woods past an array of little stone buildings draped in cobwebs and lights, through narrow child sized tunnels dark and close, accompanied by Edgar Allen Poe being blasted over the speakers cunningly disguised behind faces carved into the tree trunks.

One chooses to overlook the fact that this same trail is clearly used at Christmas as well, and sometimes the efforts to disguise the friendly Yule elf-folk as menacing Halloween goblins is not as complete as one might hope, and that the haunted castle which greets you upon arrival is much more impressive on the outside, since once you get in, it basically amounts to a wide 360 degree spin to look at glow-in-the-dark masks attached to the walls.

We overlook this because it's fun to. It's nice to have a tradition, it's enjoyable to wander through this cutesy-quaint little slice of scariness. And even if Bambi doesn't make a convincing zombie deer, I find it hilarious that the attempt has been made.

Plus, at the end, you get candy.

This weekend

2007-10-10T14:07:00.000-07:00

I'm going to the forest. I'm soaking in the hot springs.
There is nothing you can do to stop me.
So there.

I love being the boss of me.

I am obsessed with Todd

2007-10-09T09:53:00.000-07:00

I feel I must explain. I have an extremely boring job. I have calculated the time necessary to complete all the tasks assigned me as somewhere around 2 1/2 hours. Per week. I have to be here to answer the phone, and that is my primary function overall, but other than that, my time is almost maddeningly my own. I have internet access to a certain extent (no myspace or youtube) and have tried to devise various methods of edutaining myself all damn day.

I discovered that the internet filter that thwarts certain online activities seems happily to allow pretty much every google module I try to access. Hence, this blog and my new favorite web plaything: iGoogle.

I have my favorite blogs up there (word to Lyza and LOLSecretz), my news from the BBC, Wiki, weather, a game of hangman, a sticky note to myself which tells me to breathe and smile, my calendar, and various other time killers all arranged into a pleasingly readable format. And I have applied a theme to all of this goodness.

And that's where Todd comes in. You see, my theme is the Teahouse. It depicts the activities of a little Japanese fox during the course of his day, which is timed to coincide with Pacific Standard. So each morning, Todd sits out on the dock and does his fishing for the day, then at about 9am he rows his little boat across the pond and climbs the ladder to pick some oranges. By 11 he's settled down to eat his charming little lunch, and in the afternoon, he's doing the wash.

He's such a productive and well-ordered little fellow, I am slightly jealous of his industry. Not to mention the 2 hours he seems to have for lunch. I follow his progress back and forth across the pond and wonder what he does at night, since I have to go home, and don't have the internet there... I like to think the teahouse lights up with soft illumination at about 8pm and maybe Todd sits out on the porch stargazing until at 10 or so he snuggles up on his futon and drifts into sweet foxy slumber.

I heart Ira

2007-10-08T09:13:00.000-07:00

There is a near-constant competition going for the spot of my imaginary boyfriend.

It's not just that I'm fickle (although I can be) but also that whenever I am confronted with sensitivity and intelligence, and, well, hotness all in one package, I find it hard to resist.

Of course, this combination is exceedingly difficult to find in any readily available men, so I resort to having many moments of profound devotion to people I will never meet or interact with in any significant way. I like this idea. They stay just as I imagine them and provide me with fodder for my daydreams about intellectual conversations and political debates and artistic collaborations. Heady stuff.

My original I.B. was Zach Braff. He's been displaced for a while now, but most recently, I've been thinking Damian Lewis from "Life" on NBC was a good candidate. He's so damaged. It's hot.

His character is clever and resourceful but also displays a vulnerability I find pretty fucking compelling. I really like the show, and figured if I got in early, I could claim to have been in love with him well before the legions who will no doubt flock to adore him could start clamoring.

But then I went last night with some friends to a Q & A sponsored by OPB to promote the new book: The New Kings of Non-Fiction. Which is an anthology of stories from several well-regarded non-fiction writers, edited and compiled by Ira Glass.

Ira was submitting to a round of what must be fairly typical questions about how he makes stories, and decisions about stories, and how this new project on Showtime is different than being on the radio, and he offered intelligent, insightful, funny, and meaningful answers to all of these questions. I suppose being an interviewer must make it a bit easier to be the subject of questioning: you know what plays well.

But after a fair amount of this went on he decided to turn the tables on April Baer, the local newscaster assigned to conduct the Q&A (self-identified as one of the starry-eyed communications-major types who love him). Ira asked her if she was the one who did the local commentary which accompanied Morning Edition, and if that included traffic. April admitted that, indeed, that was her. Ira then pointed out that doing the traffic in Portland presented a particularly existential perspective on life...

"I mean, when you say 'It's stop and go from the tunnel to the cemetery,' doesn't that really say something more about life? It sort of sums it all up right there. And then sometimes, you mention something about some curves? I mean, it seems like that pretty much says it all..."

Game, set, match. Ira wins.

Unbelievable Deliciousness

2007-10-07T17:14:00.000-07:00

Ok.

We all know I love bacon. And we all know I love waffles. What's more, we know that I love bacon waffles and proselytize on their behalf as frequently as may be.

But today, everything changed.

Meriweathers, NW Portland, Bruncheon. Mimosa: excellent. Menu, perusing with mild interest. I already ate this morning, but we're celebrating, so I'll consider having more than my drinky.

And then my eyes fall upon the most compelling combination of foodstuffs I have seen suggested in many a long year: Fried Chicken and Waffle.

When the plate arrives it is drizzled with syrup, a substantial leg of chicken is perched atop two slices of bacon which are, in turn, nestled on a crisp and fluffy waffle. Hells yeah.

To describe its savor, its sweetness, would be to cheapen its sacred impact on my flavor receptors. Oh mama. It was arguably the most delicious thing I have ever put in my mouth.

Hot Diggity.