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.

Run for your lives.....it's Direct TV

When I was ensconced in my One Year of Opus, did I ever make the comment, "I'm so tired?" I think not. If I remember correctly, I was painting things, writing poems, taking care of my dear mama, and gardening. I was busy. I was using my noggin (my dad's word) to figure out color schemes and what to plant and what to feed the boy and how to keep my mom warm. But I don't believe I was tired. Now, I am TIRED. T-I-R-E-D. Most nights I am too tired to blog. I am too tired to watch The Daily Show or Chelsea Handler. I am too tired to go out and drink a bunch of beer. WTF. But, obviously, I am NOT too tired to complain.

Direct TV sucks. I'm putting it out there. I'm even going to say this, youfuckersatDirecttvpissmeoff. I have always been mired in confusion regarding television. When I was a kid you didn't PAY for tv. You got 13 channels and it was free, aside from the electricity it took to run the television. Then there was cable, and then Satellite tv. And it's expensive! Lots of moolah. But if you want to watch tv, (and I don't even get the premium channels!) you have to do it.

So a few years ago I had cable. It kept going out. Two years ago I got Direct TV. I had the serviceman come out to the house. Here's what they do...they drill HOLES in your outside walls and run a thick white cable into your house. They run that white cable along the outside of your house to the dish. They don't put it in the wall. It looks crappy. But that's how they do it. And that's the BEST part. The contract looms. In the contract it says that they will give you a good price for 12 months, but the contract is for 24 months. So basically, after a year they can raise your rates and you are still committed for another year. When the guy was out here installing it I told him I just wanted a year contract. He said, YES, THAT'S FINE, JUST CROSS OUT THE 24 MONTHS AND PUT IN 12. So I did that. Haha on me. The company does not consider the installers as "spokespeople" for the company. WTF? I found this out because after one year my cost for Direct tv DOUBLED. Ughhhhh. When I called them and told them about my special 12 month contract they pretty much laughed at me. Hahaha that's not valid. So, while waiting for the second 12 month contract to run out, we went to Best Buy last week and got another receiver box to put in the guest room so Jay could continue his March Madness obsession. I had the receiver box activated, but the next day I couldn't get it to work, I called Direct tv and they fixed it, and also informed me that when I activated the box, I was gifted with ANOTHER EIGHTEEN MONTH CONTRACT. At the stinking higher price.

They were horrible. Evil. Yucky. They made me cry. And I have Direct tv for eighteen more months because it would cost 465 dollars to break my NEW contract. That I didn't even okay. That they have no signature on and no verbal agreement. I went to my trusty Internet and looked up "Direct tv scam" and there it was...rampant tv angst. Hundreds of people caught in the Direct tv web of lies. Sadly, there was something very comforting about being part of a group clusterfuck as opposed to being the only one duped.

I never believed this kind of shit. I always thought, Well, I could get out of that. Or, you just have to explain it. But truly, they have you over the old proverbial barrel. So, I've cut my service down to the bare minimum. And September 20, 2011, I am calling Direct tv for the last time. Until then, I am going to fight off my lethargy for the sake of complaining about Direct tv to everyone I know. Consider yourself warned.

Heap Big Winter

Shed before snow.....









Shed after snow......










We saw Alice in Wonderland. Not the 3/D version because I find that a little distracting the first time through a movie. I loved it. It was so WEIRD. Speaking of weird, I'm trying to buy a Mr Peanut Peanut Butter Maker off e-bay. I had one when I was a kid. It made great peanut butter. Now don't y'all go bidding on one right now because I need to win mine first. They make really good peanut butter, which come to think of it, I'm really not that crazy about. I think I want it because my mom and dad got me one for Christmas one year and I had so much fun cranking that handle and being so amazed when ACTUAL peanut butter emerged from Mr Peanut's ear area. B and I are getting ready to work on cutting apart the shed. We're also going to move the garden box so I can start planting peas. Even though we could realistically get another snow, I'm thinking winter might just be over. I'm ready for the garden and tank tops and opening all the windows in the house and watching my paper piles blow all over, while standing in the middle of the room thinking, "Ahhhh. It's springtime."

Starbucks Tales

The woman taxi driver in the Starbucks drive thru today. For reals.
(I've been wanting to write "for reals" for a couple weeks now. Hahahaha.)
But really. For reals.

Barista - Hi! Welcome to Starbucks! My name is Marcia! What can I get started for you? Would you like to try our Dark Cherry Mocha?

Taxi Lady - Is this Betty? Hi Betty!

Barista - No, this isn't Betty. What can I get for you?

Taxi Lady - It sounds like Betty. What's your name?

Barista - This is Marcia. What can I get for you?

Taxi Lady - That's a pretty name. I'll have a JFK.

Barista - Thank you. And I have no idea what you ordered but if you tell me what it is, I can make it for you.

(Barista is now gritting her teeth. And still smiling)

Taxi Lady - A JFK. You know, three shots.

Barista - Oh.

Barista - Okay.

(Taxi Lady pulls forward and runs into the car ahead of her)

(Like she needs more caffeine)

(Sheesh)

Found Poem

A "found poem" is a poem that you FIND. You can find it in a billboard on a highway or in the text of a magazine article. You can find it on the back of a cereal box or in the subtitles of a foreign film. It must be the complete and actual text. That's my rule anyway. Some people pick and choose more but I believe it must be the exact wording to be a true found poem. The secret is that you make it a poem by line breaking it. Plus, it should be a little bit poetic. Or odd. Or surprising. Or funny. Or just beautiful. I found one today. I found it in the "info" file in my favorites under "Movie ratings for kids." it's a rather cool site that rates the sex/gore/profanity levels of movies. I check it out from time to time when I'm going to rent a movie for Jay. Today I was looking up Napoleon Dynamite. Here is my found poem.....


SEX/NUDITY 3

A woman gets off a bus, looks
at a man waiting for her, she runs to him
and they kiss (we hear smacks).
A woman takes off
a man's glasses, looks at him
suggestively
and they play footsie under the table.
A woman kisses a man
on the cheek a few times. Young men
and young women dance together
at a school dance. A young man asks
another young man
if his girlfriend is "hot." Two young men talk
about "hookin' up with chicks."
A young man touches
a young woman's hand and then pulls away.
A man touches another man's knee
and they both jump
and move away from each other.
Two young men talk about asking young women
to a dance. A young man dances on a stage
thrusting his hips several times.
Five young women wearing short skirts
that reveal bare legs
dance on a stage. A woman wears
a low-cut dress that reveals cleavage,
and young women wear evening gowns
that reveal bare shoulders
and backs. A man tries to sell
an herbal product that claims
to enhance women's breast size. We see
the engorged udders
of a cow.

Simplistic Movie Review

I really loved the movie, Where The Wild Things Are. One reason is quotes like this...

Judith: Happiness isn't always the best way to be happy.

But really I liked it because it's kind of sad. I loved the realism of the family. I loved the darkness of the realism of the family. I loved the way the darkness did not interfere with the love. Maybe the darkness was a big slice of the love. I loved how it all existed at once. I loved how the child was lonely and that loneliness was so palpable. I loved the creatures and how they were filled with metaphor and slime. I loved that Spike Jonze actually took actors to an island and dressed them up in nine foot tall furry suits and made them run around (I also like that he spells his name with a z). I loved the fort made out of twigs and I loved how it looked as if it was made with a Spirograph. I loved that the monsters could be conquered by "staring into all their yellow eyes without blinking once," I loved the seesaw of fear and comfort, I even loved that Sendak said, when asked, “What do you say to parents who think the Wild Things film may be too scary?" answered, “I would tell them to go to hell. That’s a question I will not tolerate.”

It just came out on DVD and I'm going to go buy it. I tried to win it on some site but they haven't e-mailed me yet with the good "You're the Winner" news so I suppose I'll just fork over the cash because I like it THAT much.

See it.

Let-Downs

Well, the Olympics are over. Four more years until the next Winter Olympics and it's gonna go by like a short track skater. Yes, I love Apollo Ohno. He's fast and he's lucky. I'm kind of glad they're over. I love watching them but they're on so LATE. I sound like an old fuddy duddy. And then, it takes forever to see the people you want to see. Plus, I feel guilty if I don't watch them because it's not on again for FOUR YEARS, so if I like 'em, I should watch 'em. So, even though I might need to grade papers or clean the bathroom, I feel obligated to watch the Olympics. And then, there's this perverse love of the "crash" (come ON, you know you love it too....the wipe-out on the ski slope or the fall after the doubletriplelutz). And immediately after the CRASH is the guilt at having secretly WANTED the crash when you know it DASHED someones hopes and dreams of the MEDAL. All in all, it's a good thing they're only on every four years. Obviously I'd go MAD if they were on more often.

We've gone through 3 seasons of Dexter and now we're ready for season 4 and it doesn't come out until this SUMMER!!!! Waaaaaaa. I got so involved. Okay, I need a series. It's going to be Weeds, or Six Feet Under I think, How's that one with Holly Hunter, Grace something? And no True Blood because B is not into Vampires. I'm starting to enjoy the technological era. I like being able to bust through a whole season of shows in a weekend. It's slightly "instant gratification" overload but it saves time.

Non let-down item...... my friend Jackie and I are taking the boys (Jay and her son, Michael) to see Switchfoot on Thursday. A concert! on a school night! and I don't work Friday! We're going to take lighters for the encore and hide boda bags filled with Boones Farm under our coats....oh wait, that was me in the 80's. Hahahaha. I figure Switchfoot is a step up from The Jonas Brothers and Hillary Duff. Jay's first concert was Jethro Tull when he was three and since then we've seen Widespread Panic and a couple others. I figure he'll only want to actually go with me to concerts for, hmmmm, let's see, maybe another MONTH before he just banishes me altogether from any social events that he attends.

It's really okay that I could only think of two things to blog about on my "Let-downs" post. I even had to use filler "non-let-down" text. Whereas I suppose I could just change the title of this post to "Hmmmmm" or "Dexter, concerts and the Olympics" I think I would prefer to just appreciate that I don't have many let-downs right now.

The ideas that have lighted my way have been kindness,
beauty and truth.
--Albert Einstein

Funny haha, or funny peculiar......

Something I never thought would happen. In the last week or so I've heard from, or run into, several "good friends" of the guy the court convicted of aggravated assault. They seem to be quite fine with the way things turned out, and it's no surprise to them that he's going to prison. It's a strange thing to find out how people really feel.

Snow = yuck. Oh, it wasn't always this way. I used to love snow. When I was a kid my mom used to make me wear bread bags over my socks, (yes, really) and then put my feet into my boots. She said it made the boots come off easier and kept feet warmer. I never see kids doing that now and if I suggested it to Jay I think he'd laugh right in my face. But back then I would go out in the snow all the time. I loved to sled and build forts and stomp around. Even a decade ago I loved it. I would pack up my cross country gear and go ski in the forest or out at the nordic center. But now, I just want something warm and, well, snow-free. I'm tired of driving in it, walking on it and shivering from it. Ideally, a little snow, seen at night from a living room window, falling under the street light, would be beautiful. But it would need to melt the next day in 65 degree weather. THAT kind of snow I could enjoy.

For those of you that didn't know....coconut milk is CLEAR. I didn't know. I thought it was white. Like MILK. Why not call it coconut JUICE? Jay had a friend spend the night a few weeks ago and we all went to the store.
B was the only one that had ever opened up a coconut before (why didn't that surprise me?) so we got one. Yes. Clear.

I'm not a good joke teller. Never have been. I always forget the joke, or my timing's off, or I pick a joke that's not even funny. I saw this one the other day and liked it, and since I don't have to TELL it.....

There's this man at a bar, just staring at his drink. He stays like that for half of an hour.

This big guy walks up next to him, takes the drink, and just drinks it all down. The poor man starts crying. The guy says, "Come on, I was just joking. Here, I'll buy you another drink. I just can't stand to see a man cry."

"It's not that," the man says. "This day is the worst of my life. First, I did my taxes last night and owe a LOT of money, I didn't get to sleep until 3:00 am, I woke up late, and was late to work. It's the fifth time I've been late this month, and I missed a crucial meeting. Then my boss fired me. When I left the building, I found out my car has been stolen. I got a cab to go home, and when I got out at my house and tried to pay the driver, I couldn't find my wallet and credit cards. "

"When I walked in the house, I found my wife in bed with the gardener. I left and came to this bar. And just when I was about to put an end to my life, you showed up and drank my poison."

Hahaha.

And here's one more that made me laugh.....

I'm back (1/29/10)

I initially wrote this a couple weeks ago when I was in the midst of a trial. I decided not to publish it because of the trial stuff. Then, I realized that it's good to remember what's important. It's good to understand that in the big picture, my hardships are not that hard. And to keep in mind what the real victories are.

Wow. It's been awhile. I think I'll take this moment to just dive in. For the last year and a half I've been the "as opposed to victim I prefer the phrase girl-who-had-a-gun-held-to-her-head" in a criminal case in town. I still can't REALLY blog about it but soon......

Right now, I can tell you that I've been sitting in a courtroom for the last 4 days, listening to, and playing, a game. Kind of like the Superbowl (okay, I'm not that self-inflated, make it high school football). Two sides, two game plans, crazy rules and at some point, a winner.

I was a little overwhelmed coming home today. I had stellar friend support, a good man, fabulous victim witness folks, and yet still had the knowledge that life is a crap shoot and who KNOWS what will happen. Up, down, up, down. I even asked for positive energy and good thoughts on facebook and a whole bunch of great people answered me. So I felt really hopeful, and yet really vulnerable. My part in the trial was over. On one hand, I was strong, didn't get bullied by lawyers, and kept on track. On the other, a little man in a nice suit tried to twist everything I said, some girl lied about me and I had to look at people I didn't really like. Yuck! Then I got home and stood. Just stood. Slowly came back to this planet. Changed into sweats and slippers, riffled through People magazine. And on this planet I read my e-mail.......(yes, I'm loving the ellipses today)

Here's what I found......

WE MUST NEVER STOP HOPE-ING; PRAY-ING; AND BELIEVING EVERYTHING IS POSSIBLE.
GREAT WAY TO START THIS NEW DECADE!!
SMILE AND ENJOY, BEV

Now, I'm not sure who Bev is. But her email was in response to my dear friend Jerry E, who has been fighting melanoma. I know that he will not mind me relaying this one sentence or two......

"We got some good news in Tucson last Thursday. My melanoma is, for the first time, STABLE. There was no progression of the disease since last November."

Now, that, my friends, is the important news of the day. There might be a trial. There might be too much snow. There might even be headaches and fear and Kurt Warner's retirement. But my friend Jerry's melanoma is stable. With news like that, none of the rest of it really matters. And hey, send your prayers, good thoughts, positive energy, and messages of hope through the universe Jerry's way.

"The things that will destroy us are politics without principle;
pleasure without conscience;
wealth without work;
knowledge without character;
business without morality;
science without humanity;
and worship without sacrifice." --Mahatma Gandhi

tv

I am so addicted to Dexter. At work, I think, Wow, that woman in line reminds me of Rita. I spend many daydreaming moments wondering, Can someone in law enforcement really do that? I think of the characters as real people. I look forward to watching Dexter like one might look forward to a nice dinner. Ahhhh, I say when I sit down to watch, the reward to my long day.

It's sick. I have a house to clean. I have pictures to organize. I have actual novels on my nightstand to read. I could spend that late night Dexter time sleeping! I am so addicted to that show that I'm looking forward to the last episode. Then I can just be done.

I was at work this morning at 4:15. Yes. FOURFIFTEEN in the AM. I texted B during my break at 6:00. There was no Good Morning or Have a Good Day. My text went like this......"So, my take is this; Lila is going to kill Doakes to get Dexter back. They'll both be gone. Problem solved." Sheeeesh.

I've been thinking about the resolutions. I have decided to add to them, maybe on a daily basis for the entire month of February. I don't think one can have too many resolutions. I figure if I get close to 75% realized I'll be groovy (funny tangent - I just looked up current slang for "great" and found "groovy" - that is so wrong). So, here are a couple more....

*I'm going to keep a decent bottle of champagne in my refrigerator at all times.
*Once a week I'm going to make it a point to call someone I haven't spoken to in a while, just to say hello.

Okay, these last two resolutions (proclamation? goals?) sound like something out of a Redbook Magazine article on "How to have a sunny disposition" which makes me throw up a little. I obviously need to revise....

*I'm going to keep a decent bottle of champagne in my refrigerator at all times so I can drink Mimosa's before going to work in the morning.
*Once a week I'm going to make it a point to call someone I haven't spoken to in a while, just to say hello or to ask where in the hell is the fucking money they owe me.

There, that's better.

Resolutions

I'm too lazy to look up quotes so I'm going to share some that either I made up or I just can't recall who said them.

"There's always room for improvement"

Okay, that's the only one I can think of.

Every year on my birthday I make my yearly resolutions. Some people do this on New Year's Eve. Some people never do it. SOME people do it on a weekly basis. One year, I did in June. It was panic induced because I was out of money and looking for a job and all I could find was NOTHING. So, I made a proclamation/resolution and had my One Year Of Opus (which you can read about on my July 2007 post). I resolved to spend NO money on clothes or any type of adornement; such as shoes, purses, hair ribbons (hahaha, hair ribbons) and earrings. I did it. Well, there was that one tee shirt. Oops. I had a whole list of things and I accomplished most of them. But that year was unusual and it's usually a birthday thing. My own private year of starting over.

Feeling Good

So, this year, after a few weeks of thought, I've come up with a couple things/ideas/desires I'd like to set down and commit to......
*Being a better writer.
*Staying the weight that I am right now.
*Putting together a reading to benefit something worthwhile.....like hospice or Smiletrain.
*Eating dinner at the dining room table more often.
*Traveling to someplace I've never been before.
*Check out some live music at least once a month.
*Dance more.

I seem to work better with rules and lists. I need deadlines and a kick in the butt! I need regular wake-up calls. I like gaining the knowledge that yeah, maybe I fucked up or got stuck in a rut or just forgot to do things I used to like, yet since it's my birthday I can start over and be BETTER!

I had this miserable experience that motivated me on the writing one. I was looking at the NY Times a few days ago and there was a blurb about a book. It was called "The Happiness Project" and it was written by a woman who took a year and spent that year doing what she wanted/needed to do to be happy. HELLO. That was MY book damnit. I could have written that book. That was my one year of opus. I had the damn rough draft. I could have added, improved and edited. I could have WORKED at it. But, did I write the book? NO. Did I write any book? NO. One thing that impedes me (through my own fault) is that I take what other people say (or what I imagine they think) to heart. I assume I must write the regular, conventional, novel or saga. What I want to write is a book that is unusual in it's form, that is part memoir, part something, and part something else. I'm a conversational person, a person immersed in reality, I can't (don't want to) write a murder mystery or a romance. I need to write about what I know. I don't think I want to write poems...at least I think I want to write MORE than poems. So, by saying I have a resolution to be a better writer, I think it means that I want to be a truthful writer, a more frequent writer and a writer who just DOES it. So, stepping out on a limb here, I think I'll just say that one of my resolutions is to actually write a book that I try and get published. There. Done and done. No, wait, not TRY and get published. GET published. On my terms, as weird and ridiculous as it might be. A sort of memoir, poetry, short story, surprises in envelopes, recipe, general life hints, and picture filled opus.

Yeah birthday resolutions!!!!!

Several Stories

Fingernails. I think I'll start with fingernails. I'm sitting here wondering where to start and I've realized I mostly need to go clip my nails. In New York, I forgot to pack clippers and several times I caught a nail and tore off a bit and had no way to alleviate the situation aside from biting it off. So, a day back in Flagstaff and I see I need to repair myself. My mom was a filer. Always filing her nails. They were beautiful and simple. I'm a clipper. Polish never stays on, I'm always knocking into something and I just did not get the beautiful nails gene. I have, however, managed to get a job where I'm not ALLOWED to wear polish so I have an excuse. Plus, I like to saw stuff, and paint things, and bang about, so I'm never going to be the girl with the lovely nails.

Okay, done.

Stories. I'm moving on to stories. I have a few. The first one started a year and a half ago. This story I'm going to shorten a bit. In August of 2008, an ex-boyfriend put a gun to my head. It was scary and intentional. I went to his house to get a couple cell phones back that were delivered to his house instead of mine. I made a few mistakes (FYI......in iffy situations when you have the choice of calling the police to help or barreling through on your own, choose the police), but he obviously made bigger ones. The State of Arizona took him to court and he was convicted two weeks ago of aggravated assault. I'm not going to go into all the court stuff but it was grueling. I spent several days on the stand and listened to lies by people I didn't even know. And then the jury came through. And now he's going to prison. But that's not even the story. The story is that I stopped blogging when it happened. I didn't want to write about my life; like when I was going to go to Kansas or even what time I left for work. I had to leave out so much of "regular life stuff" because I was afraid to expose anything about where I was going or what time or with who. It was WEIRD. I felt like I had to censor my whole flipping life when I wrote. When he had me on the floor and had the gun at my jaw, he even said, "You better watch what you write, people read your blog and know where you are and when you're gone." It was an implied threat, but it made me think about the possibilities. So, I worked hard to keep my posts generic, and I wrote less. And I honestly don't know if I'll ever be as open as I was when I started blogging. I get on facebook more, although I don't write on it much. The day before the trial I wrote a little post asking for positive energy and prayers and good vibes and 20 people sent me posts back. That was the day facebook won me over. I have to say this about facebook...you get to pick your friends (the people who can view your page), everyone is so fucking nice, and no one swears (damnit). Hahaha. I also am looking forward to blogging more. I love to write the long posts, the funny stories and the six paragraph "real life stuff" that isn't so much a part of facebook. So, although I'm leaving out a lot of that story, you get my drift. It was big and scary and it has changed the way I think about some things. And now I get to move on.

Today is my birthday. Barry is making me a cake. It's a process. Last night he started (from scratch) and used the cake pans my mom used to use. They're a bit smaller, 8" instead of 9", and after twenty minutes in the oven, smoke started to waft into the kitchen. The batter was overflowing onto the bottom of the oven. They never cooked and we poured the batter down the drain (okay, it made me laugh). This morning he started again, made three layers, not filling the pans up so full, and they fell. The layers are like 8" wide thin chocolate pancakes. He was a little bummed but I think they're going to be nice and tasty. Plus, more frosting fixes anything! And Barry made me a cake! I love it when people make you a cake on your birthday.

Facebook won me over AGAIN today....so many people wished me a happy birthday. I LOVE all you hoo-ha's wishing me a happy day. I am SO lucky and blessed to have you. THANK YOU. I'm in the process of deciding on my birthday resolutions, which will be forthcoming. I am planning on the best year ever.

Here's another story, that I would have been writing so much about over the last few months but I didn't want to give away my whereabouts. I went to NEW YORK CITY! All last week I was in New York. I believe I did already mention it, but my book, Game, was a finalist in the Patterson Poetry Prize. They asked me to read in New Jersey. So my son and my niece Suzy and her two girls who are Jay's age, and my sister and I flew into JFK last Tuesday. Here's the run-down...

Day one....five hour flight.
Awesome hotel in midtown Manhattan. Ate my first $16 hamburger at Smith & Wollensky. Walked around. Went to Rockefeller Center. Watched people ice skate. I tell you, that rink is so much smaller in person. Snowing in NY.

Day two....We were on the Today Show (check it out on my facebook). Tour bus. Ground Zero. Lunch at Olivas. Excellent pizza! Mary Poppins on Broadway. Limo Ride through Central Park, by the Met, Guggenheim, Lincoln Center. Ate at Raffles. Food is expensive!! Five dollars for a kids chocolate milk!

Day three....Times Square. M&M world (damn kids). Empire State Building. The Strand Bookstore. Battery Park. Staten Island Ferry. Looked at the Statue of Liberty. Subway to Harlem! Dinner at Sylvias (Excellent dinner!!). Here's a short story about Harlem. I live in a very white bread place. My son goes to a very white bread school. We walked about 5 blocks from the subway to the restaurant. Jay was nervous. He had never been in the minority. Never.

At one point he looked at me and said "I hate this. Can we just go back to our hotel?" and I could see his discomfort and even a little fear. I said, "It's okay. No one is going to hurt us here." We got to Sylvia's and sat down and ate an incredible dinner. Jay LOVED it. He relaxed and had fun. He interacted with black people. I mentioned that I think it's good to get out of ones comfort zone sometimes. It WAS good. I talked about how we're all just the same people, going to jobs, having families, eating dinners, trying to make it and pay bills and coping the best we can. We walked back to the subway after dinner and all three of the kids looked at the lights and the architecture and the people with less fear and more wonder. I LOVE that kind of situation. I wish my life held more cultural diversity. But it was so great to stretch ourselves a little and see other lives and places and people. Even if it was a very small moment, it was still an enlightening one.

Day four......The Natural History Museum, The Metropolitan Museum of Art. Wow. Over four hours in each one. More subway. Mimi's for dinner (Italian). I LOVE The Met!

Day five....UGH! My reading was cancelled. Snow in New Jersey. Big Storm in D.C. Man, was I disappointed. I was going to get to read with Li-Young Lee and Molly Peacock. I was going to get to sell my book. I was going to get to listen to poets that I've read and admired for years. I was going to thank the small presses, especially my publisher, Two Dogs Press, because without small presses, it's hard to get published. I was going to live in the winner's circle of poetry for a couple hours. I was sad, and I had to stop myself from dwelling on the thought that my one big chance to get my book out there was gone. Maybe it was gone. Maybe that would have been it. But, I had to work on letting it go. I still am. Instead, that day, we went to St Patrick's Cathedral (wow), FAO Swartz (damn kids), and the NBA store, and Macy's and Saks and The Magnolia Bakery. It was still good. It was NEW YORK CITY!!!!

Day six....flew back to L.A., got on the Amtrak to Flagstaff. In the L.A. Grand Central Station, Jay and were sitting there waiting for the train. There was a woman who was ranting a bit. Okay, she was freaking crazy. Hollering at folks, dropping her luggage, demanding someone haul her down to the train. "Well Jay, I have to say one thing, there are a lot more crazy people in L.A. than Flagstaff" I say to my son. Fast forward to getting off the train in Flagstaff. I hear a woman's familiar voice. "I am not getting off the train" Rant, rant rant. Etc. Etc. Demanding service, dropping luggage. Yes, it was her. She lives in Flagstaff.