Barney

I haven't written for a bit because our Barney died. I tried several times to write about things....some days just general stuff and some days Barney failing, but I was either too tired or too sad. Here is one of my starts from a few days ago.....

"I'm back. I took a couple days off. Our cat is sick. Renal failure. Anemia. Congestion and old age are all attacking Barney at the same time. Barney is 17 years old and was not "my" cat too until about a year and a half ago. Barney has been Barry's cat forever. But now Barney belongs to me and Jay and Stan also."



That was all I could get down. Barney was such a great cat. He would do these head butts against your head. I always thought it was Barney's way of giving out some love. He liked to sleep in a chair by the fire. He ate a coffee bean for breakfast and he was partial to a couple tortilla chips for an afternoon snack. He purred and meowed, and click-clacked his toenails on the floor. Mr Barneys was a part of our home, and now we miss him. He and Stan were a team, even though they didn't know it, and now Stan is a one-man show.

Barnes, like most cats, had a dozen names. He was often both the King and the Court Jester. I loved to watch him sit in the sun, or sleep all curled up, or saunter across the lawn. He bit my nose, once, very hard, and I think he enjoyed it. He sneezed a lot. He liked to lie right on the newspaper when I was reading it. We miss that good old man.

I love cats because I enjoy my home; and little by little, they become its visible soul. - Jean Cocteau

Mind Over Matter

I would like to clarify. In my post yesterday it sounds as if I think I'm old. Well I don't. And I'm not. But there are some growing signs that, well, the times they are a changing. Too often, when I get up in the morning, I believe I may have been pummeled in my sleep by small elves. Small elves wearing brass knuckles. It's not serious. I don't feel so bad I want to see a specialist. But I ache. My knees, my lower back. It's just become a "transition" getting out of bed instead of a fluid action. The idea that exercise is becoming mandatory, as in, if I don't start taking yoga, or doing a little cardio, I WILL be in trouble. Soon. I actually discard pictures now because of "double chin look" and "ripple laugh lines" instead of "weird shirt" or "eyes closed, mouth open."

Also, my memory is shot. Did I mention the small elves with brass knuckles? Oh.

Yesterday when my girlfriends and I went dancing, we had FUN. We were GOOD. We were also in a group of people who were all under 24 years of age. I am not exaggerating. I wanted to get a shirt made that said, "Your parents are paying me to spy on you." When a Adam Ant or a White Snake or a Bronski Beat song came on, I wanted to shout, "You people don't know anything about this song....I LIVED this music....I have concrete memories about this song." Ahhhh, the rantings of an old lady. Hahaha.

When I titled this post I was thinking of the saying about age...“Age is an issue of mind over matter. If you don't mind, it doesn't matter” (Mark Twain). Then I found the following one by Dr Suess (really) and liked it too.

“Be who you are and say what you feel because those who mind don't matter and those who matter don't mind.”

And then, I found this, which seemed appropriate...
“You don't stop dancing from growing old, you grow old when you cease to dance”

So, I have compiled a list of things to do if, like me, you want to hold on to your youth by the scruff of the neck like a desparate fool....

* keep dancing
* drop the f-bomb on occasion (wait, was that hold on to your youth or your vulgarity? Hahaha)
* red wine, baby
* keep your girlfriends
* read books
* contemplate taking yoga
* lots of water
* laugh until you have ripple laugh lines

I had more ideas but I've forgotten what they are. Fuck.

Ladies Eighties

I went dancing. With girlfriends. To eighties music. I could of broken a hip! I think my knees are shot. It was quarter drink night. I had two beers. I love my girlfriends.

I need an intervention.

Okay, first let me say that I'm on day 7 of my latest "blogging assignment." I write more if I have an assignment and I like to do the "Thirty Days of ____________" the best. Thirty days is not too long to do anything. And it's still long enough to be a challenge. So, I'm doing 30 days of me. Mostly because it makes me laugh at myself but also because I might gain an insight here or there. Sometimes focusing makes things clearer. I do find it interesting that when I have the assignment, I really do end up writing more. For example, right now I am TIRED. Sheee-it, I am TIRED. But I will not turn this light out until I get something self-absorbed written down.

Okay, back to the intervention. I am having a personal feeding frenzy. One might assume that I'd be over Starbucks pastries by now but apparently not. I eat too many. And I don't limit myself to Starbucks, baby. I buy pastries at Trader Joes if I'm in Phoenix. The other day I went to Wildflower Bakery and had a chocolate croissant. WTH (what the heck!). WTF.

Then, when I'm not gorging on sugar, I'm eating white starches. Tonight for dinner I had a big bowl of mashed potatoes. That's a fat ass bowl of taters, butter, milk, sour cream and cheese. YUM. I almost put a bunch of crumbled up bacon in there too. So, it' either an intervention or will power. I can see I'm going to have to do a reality 30 day assignment next - 30 days of healthy food. How about ONE day of healthy food. Hahaha.

Randoming.....I like spinach salad. I have very nice hand writing. When I was little my mom and dad and I went to Dairy Queen every evening in the summer. Sometimes little stiff hairs sprout off my chin. Ewwwww. I wish I had a cute nose. I would like to rent a house in Italy for a month.

.....the world is not respectable; it is mortal,
tormented, confused, deluded forever;
but it is shot through with beauty,
with love, with glints of courage
and laughter; and in these,
the spirit blooms...
-george santayana

Where it Started

I am reusing a blog post. I was thinking about my One Year of Opus, which is what pretty much started this blog (hence, the name, hahaha) and I realised that some of my present readers probably didn't know the origin. So, this is my second blog post, clear back in 2007, and it says so much about who I still am today, and what's important. P.S. Live your life. Now.

July 2007
The What and The Why
In the beginning (three months ago)....I needed a job. I was borderline frantic. Everywhere I looked I saw things I wanted to do that no one would pay me to do. Garden, write poems, paint and put together all this crazy furniture I bought years ago. I wanted to learn how to can my garden harvest and I wanted to make a documentary about my mom and do art projects and take African dance. I wanted to teach poetry writing (which they DO pay me for...a little). But the eighttofivejobwithbenefits monster was breathing down my neck.

The What...One year of opus. Take one year, June first to June first. Take out a loan to live on, supplemented with meager teaching funds. Make it count. Four hours a day of being creative. Not just waiting for the muse to knock on my head with, "hey, here's a poem for ya!" but five days a week, four hours a day, WORK at being creative. Find it. Learn how to can food. Paint. write, read, garden, teach, take classes.... but explore the creative. Take one year. Opus - "A creative work, a masterpiece." My one year of opus.

The Why...Mostly, my mom. My mom has Alzheimers. She is so cool. She doesn't know me anymore, but she sure is happy to see me. She likes to laugh and she gives a good hug. I go see her a few times a week. She lives in the memory unit of an assisted living facility. Facility sounds so cold. But she has a nice room and people who make sure she eats and sleeps and is warm at night. I'm crazy about her. When I go see her I am always hit with one big thing... THIS is where we end up. So, as I leave her and get into the elevator, I'm thinking, "Do it now. Live. Live this life. Now." And when I get in my car I'm thinking, "Live your life. Now." And even by the time I get home I'm still there. Still have that voice hollering in my ear, "Don't waste it man, do the things you want to do. Soon enough you'll be sitting in a dining room with 20 other people eating pureed food so, since you've had that damn furniture out there for five years it's time to take it out of the box, put it together, write a poem on top with cut-out letters from magazines, paint it seven different colors, shellac it, and be done with it, ecstatic simply at the feel of brushing paint on wood." Or something like that. Something like, "Do not take this life for granted."

The Sacrifice...I love sacrifice. But it has to be real. Not "I'm going to give up lima beans" because I don't even like lima beans. I had to think of several things that I would miss. And some that would save a little money. So, #1 - Buy no clothes from June first to June first. This would not be difficult for everyone but I really like buying clothes. #2 - No credit card use. Wow. Yuck. Okay. #3 - Two bought coffee drinks a week, max. #4 - secret sacrifice.

The Blog... To begin with, I had to get over my idea that blogging was self-indulgent blathering about oneself. Blah Blah Blah I ate mini wheats for breakfast and took a nap kind of stuff. Knowing that I really need a supervisor, a motivator, and a, so to speak, kicker-in-the-butt type deal, I liked the idea of sharing the details of this year with people who might ask "So, what creative thing went on today, missy?" I wanted to know that when I go in Target and see a really cute skirt that I'll never find again and that would look soooo good on me, that if someone sees me buy it, curtains for me!!! Then, I read this great blog (Hermitgirlofthemountains) and that inspired me. And finally, I'm a WRITER! Writers write. This is practice. It's creative. It's my one year of opus.
Posted by jill at 7:14 AM 4 comments

Bookfest Time

I love the Bookfest. It's been such a part of me for the last eight years. It was yesterday, by the way, and I volunteered last night at the headliner reading. Now, let me be honest here. I didn't do one damn thing for the Bookfest this year. Every year for the past eight years I was on the board. I went to pretty much every meeting, wrote some letters, did some fundraising, scheduled readers and procured free hotel rooms. I made the name badges and priced dinners and some years I even read. This year, nada. I needed a year where I didn't go to meetings or become involved. And low and behold, the show went on anyhow. I saw Lisa Schnebley and Rick Bass read last night. They were very good and the readings were fun and interesting. The poets did their stuff during the day and instead of It being a three day event, it was all packed into a single day. True Confession? The thing I liked best about the Bookfest this year was seeing people I hadn't seen for awhile. Darcy and Tracy and Bob and Tony and Jean and other folks who are artists and writers and friends that I ALWAYS see at the Bookfest and who I'd like to hang out with but we never do and it's always so good to see them. And even when we just get about three minutes worth of words in, I think about them for days or weeks later.

Random Schmandom......My favorite tv show is The Office. I love growing vegetables. I wish I didn't have to work for a living. I have a subscription to People magazine. Nothing better than a great pedicure. Chocolate cake with brown sugar frosting is my weakness.

at the center
of your being you
have the answer;
you know who you
are and you know
what you want.
(lao tzu)

What's Their Story?

I LOVE movies. Today B and I saw Date Night. I had read the reviews (btw, how can one movie get three stars and be critiqued as "good" and another movie get three stars and be critiqued as "bad?" The star system should be consistent. If it's bad, just give it two stars and stop confusing me) and it sounded as if it was just too implausible and stupid. But, I just love Tina Fey and Steve Carell and off we went. Well I laughed out loud! Any movie that makes me laugh out loud is alright by me. We have a Harkins movie theater up here with something like fourteen movies in the building. Remember when there would be just ONE movie in the building? Well we only have one movie house in Flagstaff and so it has a plethora of films. Anyway, they sell t-shirts and cups every December, and when you bring them in for the whole next year, you get FREE popcorn for the shirt and one dollar sodas in the cup. I just keep the shirt in my car because I never wear it in, I just carry it, and that way I always have it.



So, last week I cleaned out some closets and piled a bunch of clothes in my back seat. I know you can tell where this is going. So, it appears that I gave my movie shirt to Goodwill last Thursday. Damn. I tried to finagle a new shirt from the manager today but no go. He did, although give me a free popcorn ticket so that was a nice thing.

Randomness......I like Grace Potter and the Nocturnals mostly for their music but also because Grace Potter is a very cool name. I love roulette. If I could play any musical instrument, I would play the violin. I adore a good Caesar Salad.

Thank You Heroes For doing a Good Job.

I have a car. (In case you haven't read my last two posts, I'm doing a whole month about ME. Hahaha. So I decided to start every post off with the word "I") I was driving home in it this afternoon and saw several people walking on the sidewalk in a group - say 6 or 7. I came to a stop light next to them as they were walking and noticed who they were. There were 4 or 5 people with Downs Syndrome or something similar. And a couple people who were the care givers. Those people are my heroes. Everyone was smiling and the Downs folks were having a ball. The care givers were too, skipping along side when one of the others started to gallop about like a horse, and hugging when someone wanted a hug. It was just a short little glance at another world but it made me appreciate those who really do "do things for others." It's an area of my life that could stand a bit of work.

Random stuff....I love my home. I'm not afraid of tornadoes. My first two wheel bike was a glittery blue Stingray with a banana seat and a sissy bar. I sometimes wonder where the playground sport of tether ball went. I like the ritual of coffee almost as much as the coffee itself.

Why I am Going to Hell Because of Starbucks

I have a job. I felt crazy there today. A woman came up to the counter with a mug from the retail section. "Hey," she said, "Would you consider just giving me this mug? It doesn't lock." I took the mug, fiddled with the lid, and handed it back to her. "Yes, it does." I said, "Just try to pry that lid off now." And she pushed both her thumbs up against the lid until I thought the cup would explode. "Well," she said, "I guess you're the smart one." turned, slammed the cup on a shelf and walked away. I had bad thoughts about that woman. Did I mention it was FREE COFFEE DAY? For tax day Starbucks gave away free coffee if you brought your own mug. So next, a woman with one of those aluminum water cans walked up and asked me to "fill it up." "With coffee?" I said incredulously. She nodded and I filled it up and burned the holy flap (this is Jay's expression that I have adopted) out of my hand. I held it by the upper 1/8 inch of the lip of the can and handed it back to her and perversely, secretly hoped she burned the holy flap out of her hand too. Both hands. Her lips. And throat. Next, the man who takes all our expired pastries to the mission came in. I RAN to the back to get the Tupperwares of scones and muffins and coffee cakes for him. I then stashed several boxes next to the coat rack for ME. I took good sweet pastries from the mouths of the homeless. There's more. I swore at people under my breath. I put the wrong amount of pumps of vanilla in several people's drinks because I was not paying attention to what they said. I walked very slowly. All this nastiness flowing out of me in a mere 3 and a half hour shift.

Random notes...My taxes were done a month ago. My favorite pizza is pesto sauce with mushrooms, artichoke hearts, tomato and banana peppers. I used to love watching Wild, Wild West with my dad. The SNL skit that makes me laugh the hardest is Schweaty Balls with Alec Baldwin.
.

It's all about me

There is a girl whose blog I follow. She writes well, and has funny stories, and is quite down to earth. I like reading her blogs (No, I'm not talking about me. Hahaha). Her blogsite is girl, corrupted and she is the sister of another of my blog buddies, Tyge. She wrote a line on her blog the other day that sounded just like me...."Well, innernet, I got nothing." That's me. I got nothing. I've run out of stories, no one is dying, my house is remodeled, and I work too much. I've fallen into a huge abyss of non-creativity and low vibrancy. I have malaise. The truth is, I have LOTS to write about. I just don't do it. It's like my poetry and fiction writing. I've learned pretty much all I need to learn. I don't need any more schooling or University classes. I'm at the point where either I write or I don't. It's all up to me.

I've always found that it helps me to do a self imposed time frame and a definite assignment. One time it was "beauty." Thirty days of it. Making myself write about it made me FIND it outside of my writing. So, it's time. Again. And....I'm going to go to that place I always feel like I shouldn't go to. That thing I should be able to NOT write about. I'm going to write all about ME. Every day, for thirty days. Me. I'm going to brag and whine and project and dream. All about me.


I got my pitcher took. No, no one stole my antique glass pouring vessel. I mean I had my picture taken. By a real photographer. It was kind of an accident. I went with a girlfriend of mine who was having a photograph session with John Running He has a beautiful studio and has a bunch of props, clothes, vases, power saws, etc. for posing. While my friend, Carolyn, was getting shot, I was looking at tutu's. Well, of course I tried one on. And I got my pitcher took. It was fun. I loved it. I felt exactly like the girl wearing the tutu. After a long winter of jeans and sweaters and long underwear and heavy socks, I wanted an hour of tutu.

Random facts; I could eat Trader Joe's peanut butter with chocolate nuggets cookies all day long. I was pretty bummed out about the whole Sandra Bullock mess. I love both Barney (the cat) and Stan (the dog) but I think I'm predominantly a cat person because cats never smell and dogs do. I will probably always drive a Honda. I will never be a vegan.

I like the idea of a bunch of "me" posts. One of (the many) things I use as an excuse not to blog is that I think it's so self-absorbed to blather on about oneself. So now I'll just immerse myself in the middle of it. Bwahaha.

My company mascot is the bumblebee. Because of its
tiny wings and heavy body, aerodynamically the bumblebee
shouldn't be able to fly. But the bumblebee doesn't
know that, so it flies anyways.
--Mary Kay Ash

April Fools - Not

I am at the drive-thru window this morning. Six-thirty. A woman is stopped right next to the microphone box. Now, there are four car lengths between the window where I hand out the drinks and the box where customers order. There are no cars in that space because the woman has been on her cell phone for A VERY LONG TIME. I keep saying, HI! HOW YA DOIN TODAY? CAN I START CHA OFF WITH A DARK CHERRY MOCHA OR A BLUEBERRY SCONE, only to be met with silence. I say it over and over. This is not a joke. This is not an April Fools. Finally, she orders. She drives down to the window. There is a line behind her of irritated people who are ALL going to say, "You're making drinks kind of slow today, aren't ya?" to which I will want to reply, "Go to hell" but instead I'll say "I'm so sorry! It sure got backed up there for a minute but here's your drink! Have a fabulous day!!!" She gets to the window and says, "I'm sorry, I just couldn't get off the phone." Yes, she says that. Take a minute. Mull that over in your head. I did. How about, "Hey, can you hold on for a sec, I have to order a latte" or "Hey, I gotta go, I'm in the drive-thru and there are a dozen cars behind me" or "Gotta go" or even the simple "Bye." How could someone not know these ideas??? I say, "Yeah, it makes me crazy how many people talk on their phones in the drive-thru" and she takes her drink and drives away.

You might think from the stories I tell that I don't like my job but actually, it's moments like the one above that keep me there.