And what i liked about mr Crumb's artdiscussion was how he noticedthe electrical/phone/whatever lines running all over the place...had drawn them so precisely.
and as ugly as they are in reality, they are symetrically stunning
And they make me think of musical staffs, especially with the little notes of birdies sitting upon them.
and when they crisscross they become roman and geometric.
thinking
still
Wednesday, March 31, 2010
my theory is that as primates our young wish to be held a lot because that is how the mama apes and chimps and others do
Ihave to keep my friends baby tomorrow and she will cry unless she is being held, but the nation is recalling the Asian styled slings due to suffocation issues, and I wonder if the Japanese mamas suffocate their young, like we do here
Reading Ghosts from the Nursery about the connection between a human's life in utero and the first 24 months thereafter to violence....like ingestion of toxins and lack of touch and lack of stimulation.....very sad, annd i then begin to theorize about big brother being necessary in these scenarios,.....i have some infantile ideas....i don't know if that's the best word, can't think of anything better, um, hmmmmmm???? like blobby, amorphous, ideas, like jaggedyrough hewn thoughts, like my hair, this way and that...Chinese steppe teeth conjecturing
Ihave to keep my friends baby tomorrow and she will cry unless she is being held, but the nation is recalling the Asian styled slings due to suffocation issues, and I wonder if the Japanese mamas suffocate their young, like we do here
Reading Ghosts from the Nursery about the connection between a human's life in utero and the first 24 months thereafter to violence....like ingestion of toxins and lack of touch and lack of stimulation.....very sad, annd i then begin to theorize about big brother being necessary in these scenarios,.....i have some infantile ideas....i don't know if that's the best word, can't think of anything better, um, hmmmmmm???? like blobby, amorphous, ideas, like jaggedyrough hewn thoughts, like my hair, this way and that...Chinese steppe teeth conjecturing
Tuesday, March 30, 2010
Monday, March 29, 2010
quite curiious about men and their sexual appetites
And curious to know the percentage of women with the same level of libido as men and whether it is hormonal or psychologically linked to issues with daddy.
Kind of pisses me off. But i would truly admire men who know the urge is there to stray from a dedicated partner, but do not, EVER....Because they respect that partner, and would not ever wish to inflict emotional turmoil upon them.
And kudos to the women folk who can work through it, especially more than once. Wow.
I'm curious to know the female equivalent of men's infidelity....Like something that will permanently affect the level of trust in the partnership....
Can't be shopping. may be shopping.....debt.
And shame on the harlots who seduce the husband of another woman.
Seduction into crossing the boundary.
I guess many are not worried with Kharma.
I think i just can't imagine doing something to harm another.
I don't think like that.
I wish i could sometimes, because maybe then i'd feel like a normal part of society.
Not caring about how someone else will feel.
I caN imagaine that the 2 involved in the failure of will are so overwhelmed by desire and that overrides everything else. (desire comprised of flattery, insecurity, feeling unfulfilled in life, lack of communication, pheromones)
They do not care about what anyone else will feel, and may consider past offences of the naive partner as justification for following through on adultery.
Sex is rarely something I;m driven by....
attraction is another story for me, greatly driven by attraction to another man, but to follow through with illicit action is far too sticky (literally and figgy)
Blech....
iwill create a potion.
One that will allow us to feel the excitement of desire, but know where to draw a line
And that is such a warm sensation. To know that you have feelings for someone, but your self respect and the love and respect you have for the others involved keeps you focused and inline and able to greet St Peter with your shoulders back.
And curious to know the percentage of women with the same level of libido as men and whether it is hormonal or psychologically linked to issues with daddy.
Kind of pisses me off. But i would truly admire men who know the urge is there to stray from a dedicated partner, but do not, EVER....Because they respect that partner, and would not ever wish to inflict emotional turmoil upon them.
And kudos to the women folk who can work through it, especially more than once. Wow.
I'm curious to know the female equivalent of men's infidelity....Like something that will permanently affect the level of trust in the partnership....
Can't be shopping. may be shopping.....debt.
And shame on the harlots who seduce the husband of another woman.
Seduction into crossing the boundary.
I guess many are not worried with Kharma.
I think i just can't imagine doing something to harm another.
I don't think like that.
I wish i could sometimes, because maybe then i'd feel like a normal part of society.
Not caring about how someone else will feel.
I caN imagaine that the 2 involved in the failure of will are so overwhelmed by desire and that overrides everything else. (desire comprised of flattery, insecurity, feeling unfulfilled in life, lack of communication, pheromones)
They do not care about what anyone else will feel, and may consider past offences of the naive partner as justification for following through on adultery.
Sex is rarely something I;m driven by....
attraction is another story for me, greatly driven by attraction to another man, but to follow through with illicit action is far too sticky (literally and figgy)
Blech....
iwill create a potion.
One that will allow us to feel the excitement of desire, but know where to draw a line
And that is such a warm sensation. To know that you have feelings for someone, but your self respect and the love and respect you have for the others involved keeps you focused and inline and able to greet St Peter with your shoulders back.
I watched a wonderful documentaRy once on rOBERt Crumb....Happened upon it accidentally, did not know who he was, and was not immediately entranced by the program, until i started feeling his character, and the character of his wife, and his brothers...And what a creepy fucking lot they are/were.
Mr Crumb is a gangly marionette in 1940's suits
Mrs. Crumb is (at the time) earthy and aloof (laterwatched something online about their lives in france now and she is completely like Betsy johnson'ed out....fuscia hair, black and pink laced trimmed tunics...almost Rosanna roSanna bandana haired)
the one brother, thin, palid, dishwater hair, obsessed with molesting Asian women.
The other brother, lived with mother, and in his portions of the clip you could hear her squawking in the background...so very Norman Bates-like
I am taken with this brother.
So depressing. Fat, greasy, oily looking dress shirt that was probably worn day-after-day...I believe he confessed that he rarely bathed.....had an overbite.
Had books everywhere....That's basically all he did. Just sit at home and read.
And he satin his bedroom, oily sheets on the mattress
Conversing with mother in a mild depressed yell
Admitted to haveing attempted suicide, maybe more than once.
They were so weird
But i think of that brother, with all the books, and the greasy body and bed, and i feel akin to him.
And why I do is because i am retreating from everything, living only in my world, and while i am not voracious withthe literature, i do find pleasure in losing myself, living vicariouslythrough the characters, in those worlds.....I 've alwways dones This, even as a child, daydreaming about being an adult and how fun and carefree everything would be, everyone would love me and i'd love living.
That brother eventually succeeded in killing himself.
Mr Crumb is a gangly marionette in 1940's suits
Mrs. Crumb is (at the time) earthy and aloof (laterwatched something online about their lives in france now and she is completely like Betsy johnson'ed out....fuscia hair, black and pink laced trimmed tunics...almost Rosanna roSanna bandana haired)
the one brother, thin, palid, dishwater hair, obsessed with molesting Asian women.
The other brother, lived with mother, and in his portions of the clip you could hear her squawking in the background...so very Norman Bates-like
I am taken with this brother.
So depressing. Fat, greasy, oily looking dress shirt that was probably worn day-after-day...I believe he confessed that he rarely bathed.....had an overbite.
Had books everywhere....That's basically all he did. Just sit at home and read.
And he satin his bedroom, oily sheets on the mattress
Conversing with mother in a mild depressed yell
Admitted to haveing attempted suicide, maybe more than once.
They were so weird
But i think of that brother, with all the books, and the greasy body and bed, and i feel akin to him.
And why I do is because i am retreating from everything, living only in my world, and while i am not voracious withthe literature, i do find pleasure in losing myself, living vicariouslythrough the characters, in those worlds.....I 've alwways dones This, even as a child, daydreaming about being an adult and how fun and carefree everything would be, everyone would love me and i'd love living.
That brother eventually succeeded in killing himself.
Friday, March 26, 2010
i forget about npr Science Friday, all the time....listened once, with Krystal Club chick and icy soda in hand, to a report on lasers being shot across mirrors and it did something with time, but as usual my retention fails me.
I can see the and hear (all imagined) the colors and laser sounds...like whooping, buzzing, connecting with the corners....i believe there was mention of a vortex.
I can see the and hear (all imagined) the colors and laser sounds...like whooping, buzzing, connecting with the corners....i believe there was mention of a vortex.
Wednesday, March 24, 2010
i have got 2 hamsters who are so damned sexy.
one is albino and seemed so curious, came up to the glass of the aquarium acting all friendly like...so i was like, "ooooh, i've got to have her, but I;ll get the companion too to keep her from being lonely"
Sister whitey is a biting bitch....she come up to sniff your finger then chomp down.
the fat fluffy mixed dark cage mate is docile and lets you kiss her and snuggle...
They are Russian Dwarves....
I think i've talked of them.
one is albino and seemed so curious, came up to the glass of the aquarium acting all friendly like...so i was like, "ooooh, i've got to have her, but I;ll get the companion too to keep her from being lonely"
Sister whitey is a biting bitch....she come up to sniff your finger then chomp down.
the fat fluffy mixed dark cage mate is docile and lets you kiss her and snuggle...
They are Russian Dwarves....
I think i've talked of them.
I believe that some, maybe all, "ghost" experiences can be scientifically connected to wormholes, timetravel, dimensions of time that still exist....it's still the 1940's in Amercia somewhere, they are living just as we in this millenium...Just as it is 300 years later here, somewhere, and someone, something, has tuned into my frequency as I type this drivel and is experiencing my obsolete technological interference over their brainwave 4 ziggabing capacity fingerprint and retinal indentification modulator in order to help their offspring complete an overdue homework assignment...They too are assaulted by wafts of male catpiss and are perplexed as their cyborg catpanions were programmed to be free of any waste relief necessity 2 years earlier.
Many years ago I befriended a couple that I worked with at a copy center. They were fabulous and frumpy and typical for the type i bond with. She was heavy set, vocal, and an avid reader. He was short, thin, and resembled John Lennon crossed with Richard Gere. Elizabeth and Rob.
I've searched for them, but have had no luck in their location.
We went together one night to see Shakepeare in the Park..I don't remember which play....Twelfth nIght maybe, but i don't remember a bit of it...I think it was so darned muggy and difficult to hear.
We then went to Rob's house....For the people i grew up with they'd know which house it is..It is on Park Street almost at the intersection of McDuff Ave....It is a large brick home, looks to be 3 storied with dormer windows across the top floor.
His mother greeted us warmly and mingled with our trio discussing the evening and making me feel at ease in their home. The house was not ornate, but contained a few relics or odd bits of interest to me. One such trinket was a human skull, behind a paned glass cabinet door. I believe I asked about it, but can't remember who or why or whatever. Something seemingly uneventful happened, maybe a thump or chill, truly nothing worthy of much analysis, and Rob's mom joked that it might have been their ghosts....
Ghosts!? oh my!!!! one of the only bits of otherworldly phenomena that captures my fascination.....I had only recently become more interested in hearing others' accounts of these experiences and would occassionally catch something on our then still very conservative television programming or the radio....I told them of having listened to Rock 105 a few Halloweens back when they, Lex and and woman, maybe Rose, maybe Rose and Terry, were in an "undisclosed location in Riverside" and were having all sorts of odd experiences....The 2 I recall were the air becoming suddenly chilled and the disembodied voice of a young girl.
My hosts began giggling and disclosed that THEY were the "undisclosed" location being broadcast that Pagan Holiday. I felt warm and tingly at this odd coincidence.....and they went further to tell of other experiences and research that had been done on their home.
Rob's mother had married Alan, the homeowner. Both he and Rob's mother were architects, Alan of buildings, she of landscape. The 3rd floor of their home was where their offices were housed. It was an attic, but a very structured attic, very floor-like....beautiful stairs leveling to a landing of wood floors with enclosed offices on either side. When Rob was meeting his soon to be step-father for the first time, he stood in the doorway of Alan's office looking around and shooting the breeze. He told me that as he stood conversing, he turned to look around at the office across the floor and caught the sight of a young girl in clothing from a different decade. He said that as she retreated back into the room he asked Alan if she was his granddaughter. Alan smiled and informed Rob that he did not have any grandchildren and that it was the ghost of a girl residing in the home.
My thrilled chill was growing greater and I longed to hear more.
The mother told me they'd used a Ouija board once and received word that there was the spirit of a maid in the home who'd met her demise tumbling down the staircase...I believe Rob's mother told me that she had experienced the feeling of the maid falling through her once as she sat on the stairs.
Rob also told me of phantom smells at 4 in the morning. Bacon and eggs cooking in the kitchen with nobody awake in the home....My favorite of his recollections is when his house key had gone missing. Now I too suffer greatly from this condition, entire collections of janitor/landlord loads of keys on a ring completely vanished, but I am the ghost responsible for that absent mindedness.
He had searched everywhere, for days and days and accepted that his housekey was gone and that he'd have to own up to his irresponsibility. He sat lounging one afternoon in a skinny almost porch-like tv room. Nothing on the walls above him, no shelves or ledges or anything that would allow for the placement or forgetful dropping of a key. Rob sat with his arms outstretched, palms facing up, across the back of the couch. The key dropped into his right hand....He said he felt it plop down, and I like to imagine that he just kind of sat there, not immediately looking because he knew what had happened was not anything within the confines of our text-book schooling on reality.
He said that it seemed as if the ghosts enjoyed playing very innocent tricks on them at times.
They had contacted paranormal investigators who came to the home and gave a beautiful overveiw of what was going on.
The structure and been a boarding house during th 40's. Many engergies coming and going and the house to them had been warm and full of comfort. The spirits chose to remain there for that reason. The ghost of the girl was that of the homeowner's granddaughter. Her room had been what was now Rob's mother's office. Years later, as i would recount this story to people interested in listening, i surmised that the smells of breakfast were risidual engeries from preparing food early enough in the morning for your paying guests. Nothing horrific, nothing evil, just people who found comfort wishing to remain enveloped in that sensation even in their afterlife.
I believe i will be found in England, probably at my grandmother's home, not inside, maybe on the skinny dark wood porch that had lots and lots of windows, and in her back garden, running my ethereal fingers over the sweetly scented roses my grandfather was skilled in growing.
I've searched for them, but have had no luck in their location.
We went together one night to see Shakepeare in the Park..I don't remember which play....Twelfth nIght maybe, but i don't remember a bit of it...I think it was so darned muggy and difficult to hear.
We then went to Rob's house....For the people i grew up with they'd know which house it is..It is on Park Street almost at the intersection of McDuff Ave....It is a large brick home, looks to be 3 storied with dormer windows across the top floor.
His mother greeted us warmly and mingled with our trio discussing the evening and making me feel at ease in their home. The house was not ornate, but contained a few relics or odd bits of interest to me. One such trinket was a human skull, behind a paned glass cabinet door. I believe I asked about it, but can't remember who or why or whatever. Something seemingly uneventful happened, maybe a thump or chill, truly nothing worthy of much analysis, and Rob's mom joked that it might have been their ghosts....
Ghosts!? oh my!!!! one of the only bits of otherworldly phenomena that captures my fascination.....I had only recently become more interested in hearing others' accounts of these experiences and would occassionally catch something on our then still very conservative television programming or the radio....I told them of having listened to Rock 105 a few Halloweens back when they, Lex and and woman, maybe Rose, maybe Rose and Terry, were in an "undisclosed location in Riverside" and were having all sorts of odd experiences....The 2 I recall were the air becoming suddenly chilled and the disembodied voice of a young girl.
My hosts began giggling and disclosed that THEY were the "undisclosed" location being broadcast that Pagan Holiday. I felt warm and tingly at this odd coincidence.....and they went further to tell of other experiences and research that had been done on their home.
Rob's mother had married Alan, the homeowner. Both he and Rob's mother were architects, Alan of buildings, she of landscape. The 3rd floor of their home was where their offices were housed. It was an attic, but a very structured attic, very floor-like....beautiful stairs leveling to a landing of wood floors with enclosed offices on either side. When Rob was meeting his soon to be step-father for the first time, he stood in the doorway of Alan's office looking around and shooting the breeze. He told me that as he stood conversing, he turned to look around at the office across the floor and caught the sight of a young girl in clothing from a different decade. He said that as she retreated back into the room he asked Alan if she was his granddaughter. Alan smiled and informed Rob that he did not have any grandchildren and that it was the ghost of a girl residing in the home.
My thrilled chill was growing greater and I longed to hear more.
The mother told me they'd used a Ouija board once and received word that there was the spirit of a maid in the home who'd met her demise tumbling down the staircase...I believe Rob's mother told me that she had experienced the feeling of the maid falling through her once as she sat on the stairs.
Rob also told me of phantom smells at 4 in the morning. Bacon and eggs cooking in the kitchen with nobody awake in the home....My favorite of his recollections is when his house key had gone missing. Now I too suffer greatly from this condition, entire collections of janitor/landlord loads of keys on a ring completely vanished, but I am the ghost responsible for that absent mindedness.
He had searched everywhere, for days and days and accepted that his housekey was gone and that he'd have to own up to his irresponsibility. He sat lounging one afternoon in a skinny almost porch-like tv room. Nothing on the walls above him, no shelves or ledges or anything that would allow for the placement or forgetful dropping of a key. Rob sat with his arms outstretched, palms facing up, across the back of the couch. The key dropped into his right hand....He said he felt it plop down, and I like to imagine that he just kind of sat there, not immediately looking because he knew what had happened was not anything within the confines of our text-book schooling on reality.
He said that it seemed as if the ghosts enjoyed playing very innocent tricks on them at times.
They had contacted paranormal investigators who came to the home and gave a beautiful overveiw of what was going on.
The structure and been a boarding house during th 40's. Many engergies coming and going and the house to them had been warm and full of comfort. The spirits chose to remain there for that reason. The ghost of the girl was that of the homeowner's granddaughter. Her room had been what was now Rob's mother's office. Years later, as i would recount this story to people interested in listening, i surmised that the smells of breakfast were risidual engeries from preparing food early enough in the morning for your paying guests. Nothing horrific, nothing evil, just people who found comfort wishing to remain enveloped in that sensation even in their afterlife.
I believe i will be found in England, probably at my grandmother's home, not inside, maybe on the skinny dark wood porch that had lots and lots of windows, and in her back garden, running my ethereal fingers over the sweetly scented roses my grandfather was skilled in growing.
Tuesday, March 23, 2010
Everyday, she promised me that she'd get something done, refrain from hours spent thinking out loud, and everyday she admitted that she'd tell herself she'd only "look quickly" to see if anyone cared, but then she realized that she was just about the only one entertained by it.
And there were some thoughts, a lot like her own, more evolved in most facets (based on experience and lack of hinderance).....and she wished terribly to converse with the thinker 24 hours a day. But, in her wisdom (acquired through blunder) she realized that she must discover others with this same perspective....surely they must exist....or were they bogged in the exhaust and asphalt and deadline mire she'd escaped from not long ago?????
Patience, learning to listen (slow the pulse), and appreciation of what is....now.....not what will be.
god, i really want a pool.
And there were some thoughts, a lot like her own, more evolved in most facets (based on experience and lack of hinderance).....and she wished terribly to converse with the thinker 24 hours a day. But, in her wisdom (acquired through blunder) she realized that she must discover others with this same perspective....surely they must exist....or were they bogged in the exhaust and asphalt and deadline mire she'd escaped from not long ago?????
Patience, learning to listen (slow the pulse), and appreciation of what is....now.....not what will be.
god, i really want a pool.
Beginning to contemplate homeschooling my children.
Only so that i can have a stronger connection with them and learn what they are learning.
Now, i do not socialize much at all so i would need lots of groups for them to be part of.
And it could work, but i can't tolerate the "are you saved" crap. And a lotof the groups are centered around that. And y'know, it's wrong of me to pass my judgement upon those individuals or groups who profess devotion to a certain faith (i harbor resentment for personal experiences revolving around the stipulations and dogma and weakening attempts to still control groups through exclusion of others unless they believe as we do)
Sidebar: i tend not to immediately recoil from individuals who study or participate in Judaism or any of the Eastern faiths, etc.....but that probably is connected to my early encounters with religion. my mama raised a Roman Catholic in Scotland...guilt in the 40's and 50's, mine more to do with attending friends' southern churches of a certain denomination and the show of sin spewing and crying on the stage/altar, loud finger pointing and witnessing requirements..i just could never get into that.....Oh my gosh....and here's an even better sidebar.....After i'd finally realized that i was not cutout for the southern conventions and having to constantly detremine if my thoughts were those of sin and if so must repent and shouldn't associate with others unless they have "accepted Jeezusas their saviour" I spied my girlfriend in 10thgrade English looking forlorn and perplexed...She was one with whom i'd attended 2 or 3 HUGE services at a HUGE downtown church.....I was beginning to pull away from this friendship (lots of reasons, not just religious, she was way better than me at just about everything so i felt super stupid) and in this conversation she began to open up to me about some of the failings that she saw among the teenaged youth at her church.....And what's funny is that i've heard this same mentality reccounted by others.
She painted a portrait of big downtown church youth populace commited to no sexual intercourse before marriage....Must remain vaginally intact (my words, not then though, i just listened.) But, and she began crying as she confessed their misdeeds...........
her best girlfriend in the group was performing unimaginable felatio upon her fellow bible boybuddy. and it was commonplace among many of the cute good-book-toting couples.
They believed this to be acceptable in the eyes of the Lord........"I promise you Jesus, there was no penetration involved.....wanna see, fresh and ripe as the day is long, oh holy host."
So yeah, must work on developing more acceptance of those who profess a devout belief in Christianity, even the fundamental crap, long as it don't try to make me feel bad.But only i allow others to make me feel bad.....damn! i'm such a bloody pushover.....
Um.....homeschooling.
Deep South = fundamentalist homeschool social groups....crap!
There must be some who homeschool who are just seeing the changes in the system and the problems public schools are facing and the trend toward disrepect as the norm who wish to nurture a true love of knowledge acquistion and familial interaction....bonding with my brood academically. You are God....Humanity and Creation.....Creating
JesusGod and Buddha and Mr D Lama and Mario Lopez and my cherry blossom tree that's not dead!!!!!! hallelujah!!!!!!
I've killed God quite a few times.
Only so that i can have a stronger connection with them and learn what they are learning.
Now, i do not socialize much at all so i would need lots of groups for them to be part of.
And it could work, but i can't tolerate the "are you saved" crap. And a lotof the groups are centered around that. And y'know, it's wrong of me to pass my judgement upon those individuals or groups who profess devotion to a certain faith (i harbor resentment for personal experiences revolving around the stipulations and dogma and weakening attempts to still control groups through exclusion of others unless they believe as we do)
Sidebar: i tend not to immediately recoil from individuals who study or participate in Judaism or any of the Eastern faiths, etc.....but that probably is connected to my early encounters with religion. my mama raised a Roman Catholic in Scotland...guilt in the 40's and 50's, mine more to do with attending friends' southern churches of a certain denomination and the show of sin spewing and crying on the stage/altar, loud finger pointing and witnessing requirements..i just could never get into that.....Oh my gosh....and here's an even better sidebar.....After i'd finally realized that i was not cutout for the southern conventions and having to constantly detremine if my thoughts were those of sin and if so must repent and shouldn't associate with others unless they have "accepted Jeezusas their saviour" I spied my girlfriend in 10thgrade English looking forlorn and perplexed...She was one with whom i'd attended 2 or 3 HUGE services at a HUGE downtown church.....I was beginning to pull away from this friendship (lots of reasons, not just religious, she was way better than me at just about everything so i felt super stupid) and in this conversation she began to open up to me about some of the failings that she saw among the teenaged youth at her church.....And what's funny is that i've heard this same mentality reccounted by others.
She painted a portrait of big downtown church youth populace commited to no sexual intercourse before marriage....Must remain vaginally intact (my words, not then though, i just listened.) But, and she began crying as she confessed their misdeeds...........
her best girlfriend in the group was performing unimaginable felatio upon her fellow bible boybuddy. and it was commonplace among many of the cute good-book-toting couples.
They believed this to be acceptable in the eyes of the Lord........"I promise you Jesus, there was no penetration involved.....wanna see, fresh and ripe as the day is long, oh holy host."
So yeah, must work on developing more acceptance of those who profess a devout belief in Christianity, even the fundamental crap, long as it don't try to make me feel bad.But only i allow others to make me feel bad.....damn! i'm such a bloody pushover.....
Um.....homeschooling.
Deep South = fundamentalist homeschool social groups....crap!
There must be some who homeschool who are just seeing the changes in the system and the problems public schools are facing and the trend toward disrepect as the norm who wish to nurture a true love of knowledge acquistion and familial interaction....bonding with my brood academically. You are God....Humanity and Creation.....Creating
JesusGod and Buddha and Mr D Lama and Mario Lopez and my cherry blossom tree that's not dead!!!!!! hallelujah!!!!!!
I've killed God quite a few times.
My Dad spent some years of his youth in Orange Park..It's what I know of his mother; her little home on DeBarry almost meeting Kingsley Ave. To this day there stands, very near that intersection, the layout of what used to be a chimpanzee research facility.
Sidebar: Years back I discovered a beautiful 2 cassette tape set at my dollarstore haunt. It is a story written and narrated by a gentleman whose life has been dedicated to the study and understanding of Chimpanzee psychology and our nearly identical physiological and emotional functioning with theirs. In the story he mentions this facility and his relationship with some chimps who'd been part of the research in this place.
Everyday I allow myself to retreat into memories of comfort and nostalgia. Many of them involve experiences from my childhood, some grand, but most of them very simple in nature.
Freedom, warmth (emotional and thermal), beauty, laughter, and discovery.
One of these images that I periodically draw upon is that of a little snippet my father shared with me.
As a young boy he would walk down to a tiny store on Kingsley Ave to purchase candy (the building is still there, right at the railroad track, but it is now a real estate place, shower liners, something?). This was the 1950's so one can conjure Happy Days images, Stand by Me ball caps and hightops, blue jeans, cars with big fat fenders, racial oppression, and soda shoppes.
For some reason, these very short and simple recollections are what stick with me, but basically, his story is that as he was in there himming and hawing and finger biting over which candy to choose. A chimp handler was down in the store with one of the beasts in tow. It snatched the ball cap off my boyfather's noggin.....I could embellish and say it took off like a mad-hatter (too easy not to do it) and ran and jumped and bounced like a trick-can snake, but i don't remember that part of the story. I just think of my dad as a sweet innocent and feel that those random and uncommon events bring some levity to our lives when it seems as if there is so little anymore that touches us deeply or gives us pause to relax or giggle or appreciate something spiritually simple.
Sidebar: Years back I discovered a beautiful 2 cassette tape set at my dollarstore haunt. It is a story written and narrated by a gentleman whose life has been dedicated to the study and understanding of Chimpanzee psychology and our nearly identical physiological and emotional functioning with theirs. In the story he mentions this facility and his relationship with some chimps who'd been part of the research in this place.
Everyday I allow myself to retreat into memories of comfort and nostalgia. Many of them involve experiences from my childhood, some grand, but most of them very simple in nature.
Freedom, warmth (emotional and thermal), beauty, laughter, and discovery.
One of these images that I periodically draw upon is that of a little snippet my father shared with me.
As a young boy he would walk down to a tiny store on Kingsley Ave to purchase candy (the building is still there, right at the railroad track, but it is now a real estate place, shower liners, something?). This was the 1950's so one can conjure Happy Days images, Stand by Me ball caps and hightops, blue jeans, cars with big fat fenders, racial oppression, and soda shoppes.
For some reason, these very short and simple recollections are what stick with me, but basically, his story is that as he was in there himming and hawing and finger biting over which candy to choose. A chimp handler was down in the store with one of the beasts in tow. It snatched the ball cap off my boyfather's noggin.....I could embellish and say it took off like a mad-hatter (too easy not to do it) and ran and jumped and bounced like a trick-can snake, but i don't remember that part of the story. I just think of my dad as a sweet innocent and feel that those random and uncommon events bring some levity to our lives when it seems as if there is so little anymore that touches us deeply or gives us pause to relax or giggle or appreciate something spiritually simple.
Monday, March 22, 2010
so i'm wanting to spell lke the ARabic sound like youre clearing your throat.
like ugh and blech together.
like ichgh...or ughch......i am an expert with that sound.
And there was a reason i wanted to start witht that onomatopoeia.
ummmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm????????
my house smells like unfixed male cat peepee
that's not it.
He smells so good though. like my granny's perfume....some old orange blossom thing.
Maybe, ding ding, here it is.
I get excited, if there's abit of cash to blow, or even if i can jsut get out after having been cooped in cally for a few days, to just get groceries or something.
So, i plan, somewhat, not my strong suit.
i plan on what to buy....eveyrone tells me to keep a list to keep organized and remember what to do , but i make them and lose them. find them later and reminisce.
and down into this little burrow.......I LOVE, LOVE!!!!! finding discarded shopping lists. (belonging to others)
so, back up, i go to the store, list in hand, or pocket, or the fathoms of my purse/s...bags, satchels.
and we go in, and we're ok for awhile, then all the people start to get to me, and seeing the money disappear, and the looks and energies that some people emit and they look like they want to kill you.
and i come home exhausted, frustrated, questioning everything.
The other day, after a few stupid incidents, i forced the children to help me carry things and wished to be in the middle of a hundred acres....yeah, so serial freak-asses mayb e watching, but my god, how wonderful to only hear or see robins, and hawks, and titmice, and starlings and squirrels. and all my buildings i'd have.
I remind myself of the woman from the Martain chronicles( mininseries, but i think i might like to attempt the literature) who has free reign of everything. i just wants lots of buildings....
We went once to this place here at the fairground...it was a girlscout thing with which i wasn't impressed, and that is unfair of me because they were doing their best, but the building had captured my attention and i visualized it being mine.
And it was huge and ugly. a big metal roofed and walled, concrete floored structure...Freezing in the winter, sweltering summer oppression. I could see a corner with a refrigerator and a stove and some counters and a sink. and shelves with a rolling staircase and a cold metal balcony around the perimeter....and just so much space.
I'd fill it in no time.
but i'd somehow get lots of machines.
and lots of tables and things on casters.
hydraulic things.
air compressed
and speakers with awesome woofers or subtweeters.......i should make myself learn those.
oh, and a wall of things that light up.
I'd have lots of those things on a hundredacres.
and make big vintage pooh beings.
maybe sculpture
Epcotlike
grapevine or chicken wire with flowers blooming, or covered in moss.
and lots of spriraling topiaries.
the Garden of Abdul Gasazi.
like ugh and blech together.
like ichgh...or ughch......i am an expert with that sound.
And there was a reason i wanted to start witht that onomatopoeia.
ummmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm????????
my house smells like unfixed male cat peepee
that's not it.
He smells so good though. like my granny's perfume....some old orange blossom thing.
Maybe, ding ding, here it is.
I get excited, if there's abit of cash to blow, or even if i can jsut get out after having been cooped in cally for a few days, to just get groceries or something.
So, i plan, somewhat, not my strong suit.
i plan on what to buy....eveyrone tells me to keep a list to keep organized and remember what to do , but i make them and lose them. find them later and reminisce.
and down into this little burrow.......I LOVE, LOVE!!!!! finding discarded shopping lists. (belonging to others)
so, back up, i go to the store, list in hand, or pocket, or the fathoms of my purse/s...bags, satchels.
and we go in, and we're ok for awhile, then all the people start to get to me, and seeing the money disappear, and the looks and energies that some people emit and they look like they want to kill you.
and i come home exhausted, frustrated, questioning everything.
The other day, after a few stupid incidents, i forced the children to help me carry things and wished to be in the middle of a hundred acres....yeah, so serial freak-asses mayb e watching, but my god, how wonderful to only hear or see robins, and hawks, and titmice, and starlings and squirrels. and all my buildings i'd have.
I remind myself of the woman from the Martain chronicles( mininseries, but i think i might like to attempt the literature) who has free reign of everything. i just wants lots of buildings....
We went once to this place here at the fairground...it was a girlscout thing with which i wasn't impressed, and that is unfair of me because they were doing their best, but the building had captured my attention and i visualized it being mine.
And it was huge and ugly. a big metal roofed and walled, concrete floored structure...Freezing in the winter, sweltering summer oppression. I could see a corner with a refrigerator and a stove and some counters and a sink. and shelves with a rolling staircase and a cold metal balcony around the perimeter....and just so much space.
I'd fill it in no time.
but i'd somehow get lots of machines.
and lots of tables and things on casters.
hydraulic things.
air compressed
and speakers with awesome woofers or subtweeters.......i should make myself learn those.
oh, and a wall of things that light up.
I'd have lots of those things on a hundredacres.
and make big vintage pooh beings.
maybe sculpture
Epcotlike
grapevine or chicken wire with flowers blooming, or covered in moss.
and lots of spriraling topiaries.
the Garden of Abdul Gasazi.
i spied, while walking through my supercenter grocery arena maybe 3 days ago, a very fit looking woman, young. Huge angel wing tatoo across her back, wearing a black tanktop.
bilateral cut hair-long bits in front, spikey ends....burgundy or rust red. short back, cropped.
Fab Paloma Picasso nose, smaller scale.
small build, but muscular.
trendy hot tennies on.
black sweats, croppped style
with a red strip running betweenn the cheeks of her buttox.
So clearly defined and intended as such to accentuate them.
bilateral cut hair-long bits in front, spikey ends....burgundy or rust red. short back, cropped.
Fab Paloma Picasso nose, smaller scale.
small build, but muscular.
trendy hot tennies on.
black sweats, croppped style
with a red strip running betweenn the cheeks of her buttox.
So clearly defined and intended as such to accentuate them.
I wonder if i should change some things in the story below, yes, i;m scared.
I wonder if i should change them so i can deny any connection to my life.
like, it's fiction folks. my attempt at creative writing. pissy creative writing.
But there's something kind of thrilling knowing it's there.
God, they'd really hate me if they read it.
My spouse would be so freakin angry.
And we'd be back to square 1...maybe even like -4 or something.
I wonder if i should change them so i can deny any connection to my life.
like, it's fiction folks. my attempt at creative writing. pissy creative writing.
But there's something kind of thrilling knowing it's there.
God, they'd really hate me if they read it.
My spouse would be so freakin angry.
And we'd be back to square 1...maybe even like -4 or something.
twice now i've been offended by mark's sister. the younger of the 2. old she is, old like my parents. 60's
I bloody said that he was a great cook and she said, "is it out of neccesity Lisa?!"
OMYfREAKIN! GOD....why do people think that's cute.
i'm not a bitch, but other people think they can be so and it's ok????????
She asked me if iwas cooking osmething great for his a birthday a week ago.
i said it was whatever i thawed out....and by the way, what i cooked kicked ass.
and i made lotsofo oatmeal cookies and she was like,"good for you" fuck you!
oooooh....where is my inner bitch
See, i'll finally say something aobut them being prudish ignorant asses from the fucking bumpkin deep sound raised by a dumb-ass mama who don't know nuthin other than waitin own the men folk and thinkin god floatin round own a throne in the sky (how boring he is)
I believe that my days of leisure in my home here will be over if this is ever read by one of the clan.
I'm so bored with all of them.
and it's by choice, i could try to have beige color coordinated walls with crown mouldy and burber and all that perdy stuff.
I could try to throw any and everything away that'snot current, or that's broken, or that's deemed sacreligious
I could try to host Pampered cheff parties, and jewelry parties, and gourmet sauce parties, and make sure my children are dressed in matching madras or leather tennies or keep by boy's hair short and cropped so he don't look like some homo-seck-shoe-ull
but y'know, i could and i would be sick, but goddern, i'd have my social hour i so long fer.
I bloody said that he was a great cook and she said, "is it out of neccesity Lisa?!"
OMYfREAKIN! GOD....why do people think that's cute.
i'm not a bitch, but other people think they can be so and it's ok????????
She asked me if iwas cooking osmething great for his a birthday a week ago.
i said it was whatever i thawed out....and by the way, what i cooked kicked ass.
and i made lotsofo oatmeal cookies and she was like,"good for you" fuck you!
oooooh....where is my inner bitch
See, i'll finally say something aobut them being prudish ignorant asses from the fucking bumpkin deep sound raised by a dumb-ass mama who don't know nuthin other than waitin own the men folk and thinkin god floatin round own a throne in the sky (how boring he is)
I believe that my days of leisure in my home here will be over if this is ever read by one of the clan.
I'm so bored with all of them.
and it's by choice, i could try to have beige color coordinated walls with crown mouldy and burber and all that perdy stuff.
I could try to throw any and everything away that'snot current, or that's broken, or that's deemed sacreligious
I could try to host Pampered cheff parties, and jewelry parties, and gourmet sauce parties, and make sure my children are dressed in matching madras or leather tennies or keep by boy's hair short and cropped so he don't look like some homo-seck-shoe-ull
but y'know, i could and i would be sick, but goddern, i'd have my social hour i so long fer.
oh and my comic books that i found at dollar tree.
they have little trading cards insidethe pkg
they are mostly ATeam
there are some that are different
a tomcat airplane
and something else,
i wish my eyes were recorders, and my cochlea, andmy hands.
my eyes especially
As i drove to my airport shopping center i saw a placccard sign resting on some dudes leg that looked elf-life. the man was sitting behind the poster, shielded from something.
The sign was adverstising Banana's bar and grill, something, in that shopping center.
I could see the metal folding legs of the chair he rested in.
As we drove by, and it's quick there because people are coming off the interstate and going and going and going so i didn't get a super long stare, i was able to peek quickly behind the sign to see this poor fool dressed in a beautiful and bright banana suit. so pissed that this was what he had to do for 7.33 an hour.
God Damn! i could not stop laughing and my son was like, "what mommy, what mommy, what mommy!?" and that is wehn i'd wished that my eyese were a camera....i'll never be able to draw him a such, or if i did i'd fret and take 2 months and forget it and screw it up.
they have little trading cards insidethe pkg
they are mostly ATeam
there are some that are different
a tomcat airplane
and something else,
i wish my eyes were recorders, and my cochlea, andmy hands.
my eyes especially
As i drove to my airport shopping center i saw a placccard sign resting on some dudes leg that looked elf-life. the man was sitting behind the poster, shielded from something.
The sign was adverstising Banana's bar and grill, something, in that shopping center.
I could see the metal folding legs of the chair he rested in.
As we drove by, and it's quick there because people are coming off the interstate and going and going and going so i didn't get a super long stare, i was able to peek quickly behind the sign to see this poor fool dressed in a beautiful and bright banana suit. so pissed that this was what he had to do for 7.33 an hour.
God Damn! i could not stop laughing and my son was like, "what mommy, what mommy, what mommy!?" and that is wehn i'd wished that my eyese were a camera....i'll never be able to draw him a such, or if i did i'd fret and take 2 months and forget it and screw it up.
Petra Pan
the MOvie gallery is closing here in Callahan.
When i was told this i did not think that i would care to go.
I believe/d myself to be free of the lure of cheap and many.
It began with all 6 seasons of Buffy..... 3.99 each.
then found some movies....frida, just like heaven, rachel getting married, royal tannnnenbombs.
others. but yesterday, Yes! yesterday, back again, 3rd trip, found this movie about this guy. French...makes videos for rockstars. first name Michel. he's made vidz for bjork and the foo fighters and chemical bros and Beck and my fave...and i was entranced yrs ago by it and thought of it not long ago, the daft punk vid for around the world, which can seem boring, but once you stare at it you feel like you wantto copy the dance moves and their like on a cake and they're robots, and skeletons and mummies. and it's just so groovy.
But, and this is happening more and more and i should remember to write them, or record them on my new diggie voice recorder, or something, is just the odd blurbs that i've thought or briefly vocalized that manifest themselfves.....
and, back to the but, i liken myself to a 12 yr old metality....13 denotes some form of pubescent growth toward adult hood so 12 it is.
Well, mr Michel has on this dvd menu, a vid of him playing drums with 2 boys, maybe his, under the snare or the timpani ( i do not know what theyare called, but i nknow those terms, and steel and bongo,ooooh na dtalking drum and kettle and...) and on the crash cymbal i think, is a choice that says something along the lines of never having grown older than 12....OMG! He is one of my people. but we'll never meet.
He and Bjork are friends. but i can't take many of her songs. a little, and a movie with her in it going blind. it was bleak. and nobody else watched it with me.
When i was told this i did not think that i would care to go.
I believe/d myself to be free of the lure of cheap and many.
It began with all 6 seasons of Buffy..... 3.99 each.
then found some movies....frida, just like heaven, rachel getting married, royal tannnnenbombs.
others. but yesterday, Yes! yesterday, back again, 3rd trip, found this movie about this guy. French...makes videos for rockstars. first name Michel. he's made vidz for bjork and the foo fighters and chemical bros and Beck and my fave...and i was entranced yrs ago by it and thought of it not long ago, the daft punk vid for around the world, which can seem boring, but once you stare at it you feel like you wantto copy the dance moves and their like on a cake and they're robots, and skeletons and mummies. and it's just so groovy.
But, and this is happening more and more and i should remember to write them, or record them on my new diggie voice recorder, or something, is just the odd blurbs that i've thought or briefly vocalized that manifest themselfves.....
and, back to the but, i liken myself to a 12 yr old metality....13 denotes some form of pubescent growth toward adult hood so 12 it is.
Well, mr Michel has on this dvd menu, a vid of him playing drums with 2 boys, maybe his, under the snare or the timpani ( i do not know what theyare called, but i nknow those terms, and steel and bongo,ooooh na dtalking drum and kettle and...) and on the crash cymbal i think, is a choice that says something along the lines of never having grown older than 12....OMG! He is one of my people. but we'll never meet.
He and Bjork are friends. but i can't take many of her songs. a little, and a movie with her in it going blind. it was bleak. and nobody else watched it with me.
Sunday, March 21, 2010
And on the note of the "crap" i like to buy:
Who buys all the comic books, or little plastic containers,
and there were these lovely unfinished display boxes, maybe 6" in diameter, glass door
and i got some, but man, they went so quickly.
i see things and think that nobody else wants this crap so i'll buy some now and come back for more later and i'm too late then.
Who buys all the comic books, or little plastic containers,
and there were these lovely unfinished display boxes, maybe 6" in diameter, glass door
and i got some, but man, they went so quickly.
i see things and think that nobody else wants this crap so i'll buy some now and come back for more later and i'm too late then.
Saturday, March 20, 2010
Friday, March 19, 2010
I am tickled. The foolishness of my faux pas yesterday has left me in a state of mild dismay, but in light of that humility I am comforted to have the means, meager as they may be, to take my child and go get some groceries (really into making cookies and things lately...will attempt cinnamon rolls this weekend, oh god, yeast and rolling out dough, but i can do it, or curse it all to hell)
And i will also, and this makes me giddy, go to the Dollar Tree and get these fab 2 packs of comic books.....all sorts from the 80's and early 90's.......love the format and colors and frozen images...flawless skin. they also have these little tiny plastic containers to hold little tiny things.
Need plecos for some tanks. 2 maybe or 3.
JP and i will eat lunch while we are out. we have an Orange Tree and it's quick and cheap. tired of Taco Bell, oooh, but they have that shrimp taco now.
Must stay away from Michaels. they have all these books that i have coveted, but it would cost probably 200 bucks to get them all, and if i can't have them all then i'll not have any (not really)
Plus, like the Dollar Tree, it's easy for me to get into trouble over 1$ things....like i end up with 50 or so...and michaels has the best dollar stamps and stickers and marked down...some of it's good mark down....
God, this is my life. I believe i am working on my own little Vaudeville show here, at this house. an Audience of 3, until the offspring see through me.
Yay! New Moon movie released tomorrow......
Need to buy the last of the books.
Oh boy. I am reading this speculative sciencefiction book, all sorts of short stories perfect for my attention issues, and i got it at my beloved airport Dollar Tree, and it had been a regular bookstore book and it is brillie....some of the books there reveal to me why they were shipped to the discount place, but this one is quite engrossing and has very plausible ideas...like national alleigance to a corporation, I believe it is called Ubermart, instead of a country because the health benefits are far superior, and Berlin surrounded by a thick wall that is electrically magnetized by super charged bullets flying around inside of it, and wine corks being outlawed and some type of plastic plug being the replacement....have only read about 4 of the stories so far.
Made oatmeal raisin cookies this morning for Mark to take with him to some big basketball thingy...like watching games ALL day, then breaking for 2 hours and tailgating, then going back to watch games until midnight, then going back again on Sunday. i find basketball sexy....and i saw beautiful patterns one time, watching a game at a now defunct bar, and it was an overhead angle and the players were almost dancing and of course, my mind was slightly altered so that helped me to see the nuances and the squeaking rubber and hollow bounce sounds are.... are ....
i'm trying to think of a word, like indicative, that means that the sounds, if they were isolated without visual, would conjure images only of basketball. assigned only to that game....no squeaking in football or soccer or baseball, volleyball maybe...just not the number of bounces.
And i will also, and this makes me giddy, go to the Dollar Tree and get these fab 2 packs of comic books.....all sorts from the 80's and early 90's.......love the format and colors and frozen images...flawless skin. they also have these little tiny plastic containers to hold little tiny things.
Need plecos for some tanks. 2 maybe or 3.
JP and i will eat lunch while we are out. we have an Orange Tree and it's quick and cheap. tired of Taco Bell, oooh, but they have that shrimp taco now.
Must stay away from Michaels. they have all these books that i have coveted, but it would cost probably 200 bucks to get them all, and if i can't have them all then i'll not have any (not really)
Plus, like the Dollar Tree, it's easy for me to get into trouble over 1$ things....like i end up with 50 or so...and michaels has the best dollar stamps and stickers and marked down...some of it's good mark down....
God, this is my life. I believe i am working on my own little Vaudeville show here, at this house. an Audience of 3, until the offspring see through me.
Yay! New Moon movie released tomorrow......
Need to buy the last of the books.
Oh boy. I am reading this speculative sciencefiction book, all sorts of short stories perfect for my attention issues, and i got it at my beloved airport Dollar Tree, and it had been a regular bookstore book and it is brillie....some of the books there reveal to me why they were shipped to the discount place, but this one is quite engrossing and has very plausible ideas...like national alleigance to a corporation, I believe it is called Ubermart, instead of a country because the health benefits are far superior, and Berlin surrounded by a thick wall that is electrically magnetized by super charged bullets flying around inside of it, and wine corks being outlawed and some type of plastic plug being the replacement....have only read about 4 of the stories so far.
Made oatmeal raisin cookies this morning for Mark to take with him to some big basketball thingy...like watching games ALL day, then breaking for 2 hours and tailgating, then going back to watch games until midnight, then going back again on Sunday. i find basketball sexy....and i saw beautiful patterns one time, watching a game at a now defunct bar, and it was an overhead angle and the players were almost dancing and of course, my mind was slightly altered so that helped me to see the nuances and the squeaking rubber and hollow bounce sounds are.... are ....
i'm trying to think of a word, like indicative, that means that the sounds, if they were isolated without visual, would conjure images only of basketball. assigned only to that game....no squeaking in football or soccer or baseball, volleyball maybe...just not the number of bounces.
Thursday, March 18, 2010
well, I was going to go on about having deeply offended my troubled friend, but instead i'll reminisce about the cat that Lee and i found in the street, many years ago, that had been hit by a car.
We were absolutely baked, and he and i have discussed the fondness with which we remember those days....utterly stoned and eating and laughing and listening to good music while we drove around.
We came upon this cat one night in our neighborhood...It was sitting in the middle of the road.
It looked like it was eating something or throwing up maybe...As we got closer we realized it was puking blood. It had defecated as well and was in a dazed state...As i write this i begin to feel such grief thinking of it...i am recalling it in great detail...
It was a black and white cat, tuxedo maybe...we went to 2 or 3 doors to see if the cat belonged to someone...Nobody claimed the dying beast, but one woman suggested getting a shovel and bashing it over the head. Nobody was willing to do that, so someone found a piece of plywood and we inched its body up onto it and put it into the back of Lee's car.
We drove into San Marco where there was a 24 hour emergency veterinary service.
We listened to the cat's breathing become more and more labored. I believe his lungs were filling with blood and when we pulled him from the car his eye had begun to inflate like a balloon.
As we entered, a man stood talking to the woman at the desk about his frickin' dog itching and itching...and we're holding a bloody animal that needs to be euthanized, but the dog is just itchin'....She acknowledged us and we had to fill-out a few forms swearing to JayZuss that it's not our cat....meanwhile, the poor soul is moaning and choking on blood, but i've got to sign some more forms, hold-on kitty, you can wait for a few more minutes, quiet that rasping down
They took him, and we were solemly sober for the rest of the night....maybe a few tokes to erase the horror of it all.
We were absolutely baked, and he and i have discussed the fondness with which we remember those days....utterly stoned and eating and laughing and listening to good music while we drove around.
We came upon this cat one night in our neighborhood...It was sitting in the middle of the road.
It looked like it was eating something or throwing up maybe...As we got closer we realized it was puking blood. It had defecated as well and was in a dazed state...As i write this i begin to feel such grief thinking of it...i am recalling it in great detail...
It was a black and white cat, tuxedo maybe...we went to 2 or 3 doors to see if the cat belonged to someone...Nobody claimed the dying beast, but one woman suggested getting a shovel and bashing it over the head. Nobody was willing to do that, so someone found a piece of plywood and we inched its body up onto it and put it into the back of Lee's car.
We drove into San Marco where there was a 24 hour emergency veterinary service.
We listened to the cat's breathing become more and more labored. I believe his lungs were filling with blood and when we pulled him from the car his eye had begun to inflate like a balloon.
As we entered, a man stood talking to the woman at the desk about his frickin' dog itching and itching...and we're holding a bloody animal that needs to be euthanized, but the dog is just itchin'....She acknowledged us and we had to fill-out a few forms swearing to JayZuss that it's not our cat....meanwhile, the poor soul is moaning and choking on blood, but i've got to sign some more forms, hold-on kitty, you can wait for a few more minutes, quiet that rasping down
They took him, and we were solemly sober for the rest of the night....maybe a few tokes to erase the horror of it all.
Tuesday, March 16, 2010
I dreamt last night of a few scenarios...but the one that i remember most, and they're always the most random blurbs of subconscious weirdness (but normal...most of the time, except when i flew a stool around the room in one...it was like a rocket) is where a man, maybe-like Hispanic or Asianesque, was sitting in the backseat of a car with me and someone else and was going on and on and on about being a devout Catholic and not allowing anything in his home or with his family that was objectionable or unhealthy...I believe it was no TV, no music, no crap food, and there were some other weird ones that i don't recall.
And tonight i talked to the office lady at WD here in Cally as I was applying for a gas money saving card...perks or something.
We had a great conversation which stemmed from the fact that even this bloody card has frickin' stipulations....must use it by a certain time or you lose the benefits that you earned....ugh! i said, in a round-about way....and I continued with a story about how i am tired of all the steps and procedures and mandates and requirements and stips and blips and flips and farts to get any frickin' thing done....applying for this, filling this out to receive some crap-shit benefit, having to prove this and that about yourself, bloody character references, letters of rec, "we can't do that for you until you've done this" or "we don't do it that way because this may happen"......effffem all!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! i wish to sleep. and i'll regret my lack of motivation in about 5 or 10 yrs., but this is it? that's my question.. This is what i was so eager to be an adult for? blech.
You don't know your kids when you're little so you can't really factor your feelings for them in, but the rest is quite laughable.
On the bus on field trips I'd look down into people's cars and long to be an adult, now i look up and wish to be back on the bloody bus....not really....schools are quickly becoming socialist experiments as well....subterfuge......Communism on its way....and there's something appealing about the ultimate goal of that form of govy....but it also falls short of its intended outcome....all of our (humanity;s)efforts seem to be in vain
But, back to WD lady
So, we're talking and agreeeing and then crap about Revelations and the numbers and shit comes up and I don't know what to say when people start talking religious crap....the number of the beast was assigned to Nero...that's all....it doesn't mean anything else.....but she knew that i didn't have much to say because she gave me funny look....and i got quiet...we'd agreed about everything until then.....so i am a heathen and a heretic.
that;s my new band name
Heathens and Heretics
What's the difference i wonder?
And tonight i talked to the office lady at WD here in Cally as I was applying for a gas money saving card...perks or something.
We had a great conversation which stemmed from the fact that even this bloody card has frickin' stipulations....must use it by a certain time or you lose the benefits that you earned....ugh! i said, in a round-about way....and I continued with a story about how i am tired of all the steps and procedures and mandates and requirements and stips and blips and flips and farts to get any frickin' thing done....applying for this, filling this out to receive some crap-shit benefit, having to prove this and that about yourself, bloody character references, letters of rec, "we can't do that for you until you've done this" or "we don't do it that way because this may happen"......effffem all!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! i wish to sleep. and i'll regret my lack of motivation in about 5 or 10 yrs., but this is it? that's my question.. This is what i was so eager to be an adult for? blech.
You don't know your kids when you're little so you can't really factor your feelings for them in, but the rest is quite laughable.
On the bus on field trips I'd look down into people's cars and long to be an adult, now i look up and wish to be back on the bloody bus....not really....schools are quickly becoming socialist experiments as well....subterfuge......Communism on its way....and there's something appealing about the ultimate goal of that form of govy....but it also falls short of its intended outcome....all of our (humanity;s)efforts seem to be in vain
But, back to WD lady
So, we're talking and agreeeing and then crap about Revelations and the numbers and shit comes up and I don't know what to say when people start talking religious crap....the number of the beast was assigned to Nero...that's all....it doesn't mean anything else.....but she knew that i didn't have much to say because she gave me funny look....and i got quiet...we'd agreed about everything until then.....so i am a heathen and a heretic.
that;s my new band name
Heathens and Heretics
What's the difference i wonder?
Monday, March 15, 2010
clickety clackety of the keys.....
Love button clicking.
snapping and popping.
Leaves Crunching
That was a noise I was very attuned to as a child.
And this is the thought i wished to share.
Crap...it's gone...Dammit!
hmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm
Oh, yes
This lonliness...
most likely self-imposed
isn't necessarily bad....i feel it is most of the time, but here's a different take, that i'll probably never act upon
If i had numerous siblings and close ties with lots of people and friends, i'd be obligated to all sorts of things that I'd basically SUCK at.
Like being mindful of milestones and celebrations......buying crap, taking people places.
And while these things would definitely help me grow and develop bonds and all that jazz, i'd feel burdened by the demand.
That, i have decided, is my number one foible....I'm not good with other people making demands......
I could maybe take, at this point in my life, a little constructive input on something and maybe some directional advice, but a demand to be robotic on a daily basis, smile, act warm and friendly, suck-it-up kinda crap would mean going back to all the years I've already served on those lines, and handled well 94% of the time.
the other 5% has scarred me. (no memory of that missing percentage)
So, i will create these people.
these friends, and relations.
I'd be close to my English cousins...I know i would.
maybe
I'd alienate them too.
no i wouldn't
We are apart for years, then, when we reconnect, it's like we've never been away from one another.
Oh, those are lovely storybook memories.
I'll makeup friends and relations
And foe
And the people lately, who've wounded my fragile shell, will be divine as such.
Like, can be really sweet, outgoing, seemingly interested, then flip and turn....some slowly, others as manic dollies....the kind that flip inside out......Don'tknow what they're called.
My friend drew some lovely ones once
...
flippy dolls.
poppets
Halloween town mayor, except not happy and capable and sad and fearful.
Sweet and Sadistic.
surfacey composed/sheepish robot......geers and cogs just'a churnin'
Eff'em all!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
GOD dANG!!! where are my fellow weirdoze!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!???? where?
maybe they're not about the whining
Maybe they too like to get things done, instead of sitting here and staring at the pond that is flowing to the left and Mr Shelton bringing his garbage can in....
I shall die bored.
Hurt feelings
Lots of cracks and bleedy sacrum. ( i looked that one up and it's not what i thought it meant...it's to do with bones and vertebrae and triangles, but it sounded to me like ooozie egg whites and yolk)
I'm craving a drive to keystone heights, and the warm sun on my legs on the dashboard and stopping at BiLo or piggly wiggly or WD and getting gatorade and granola bars
and going to Sandy's parents lakehouse and sitting on that whiteish sand and discovering black shelled clams deep in the wet sand on the shore.
the warm sun on my form.
and hair blowing and sticking to spit on my lips.
And there were years with other friends where we floated on some dock in the middle-ish
And we saw the rings of Saturn through the telescope
And we heard a loud boom as the Space Shuttle re-entered the atmosphere.
And Kelly's parents' house was little and cinderblock cold
and we all got stoned at her bridal party there.
And sunburned even though it was overcast.
And the nothingness that was built around there.
Which is not nothing anymore
And it makes me think too of my dad teaching me to drive in Middleburg
In 1984 or 85
That beautiful mustard subaru....black interior
so little and quick and buzzy sounding.
and stick shift and jerky
And it was cold there that November...I remember it so well....and it was dirt roads...nicely constructed dirt roads...plowed or something i guess..
tall pines lining either side.
I learned to drive there...and i took to it very well
Because I'd watched my dad drive all those years before
Hearing the soft dry scratchy sound and the steering wheel gently slipped and turned under his palms.
Love button clicking.
snapping and popping.
Leaves Crunching
That was a noise I was very attuned to as a child.
And this is the thought i wished to share.
Crap...it's gone...Dammit!
hmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm
Oh, yes
This lonliness...
most likely self-imposed
isn't necessarily bad....i feel it is most of the time, but here's a different take, that i'll probably never act upon
If i had numerous siblings and close ties with lots of people and friends, i'd be obligated to all sorts of things that I'd basically SUCK at.
Like being mindful of milestones and celebrations......buying crap, taking people places.
And while these things would definitely help me grow and develop bonds and all that jazz, i'd feel burdened by the demand.
That, i have decided, is my number one foible....I'm not good with other people making demands......
I could maybe take, at this point in my life, a little constructive input on something and maybe some directional advice, but a demand to be robotic on a daily basis, smile, act warm and friendly, suck-it-up kinda crap would mean going back to all the years I've already served on those lines, and handled well 94% of the time.
the other 5% has scarred me. (no memory of that missing percentage)
So, i will create these people.
these friends, and relations.
I'd be close to my English cousins...I know i would.
maybe
I'd alienate them too.
no i wouldn't
We are apart for years, then, when we reconnect, it's like we've never been away from one another.
Oh, those are lovely storybook memories.
I'll makeup friends and relations
And foe
And the people lately, who've wounded my fragile shell, will be divine as such.
Like, can be really sweet, outgoing, seemingly interested, then flip and turn....some slowly, others as manic dollies....the kind that flip inside out......Don'tknow what they're called.
My friend drew some lovely ones once
...
flippy dolls.
poppets
Halloween town mayor, except not happy and capable and sad and fearful.
Sweet and Sadistic.
surfacey composed/sheepish robot......geers and cogs just'a churnin'
Eff'em all!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
GOD dANG!!! where are my fellow weirdoze!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!???? where?
maybe they're not about the whining
Maybe they too like to get things done, instead of sitting here and staring at the pond that is flowing to the left and Mr Shelton bringing his garbage can in....
I shall die bored.
Hurt feelings
Lots of cracks and bleedy sacrum. ( i looked that one up and it's not what i thought it meant...it's to do with bones and vertebrae and triangles, but it sounded to me like ooozie egg whites and yolk)
I'm craving a drive to keystone heights, and the warm sun on my legs on the dashboard and stopping at BiLo or piggly wiggly or WD and getting gatorade and granola bars
and going to Sandy's parents lakehouse and sitting on that whiteish sand and discovering black shelled clams deep in the wet sand on the shore.
the warm sun on my form.
and hair blowing and sticking to spit on my lips.
And there were years with other friends where we floated on some dock in the middle-ish
And we saw the rings of Saturn through the telescope
And we heard a loud boom as the Space Shuttle re-entered the atmosphere.
And Kelly's parents' house was little and cinderblock cold
and we all got stoned at her bridal party there.
And sunburned even though it was overcast.
And the nothingness that was built around there.
Which is not nothing anymore
And it makes me think too of my dad teaching me to drive in Middleburg
In 1984 or 85
That beautiful mustard subaru....black interior
so little and quick and buzzy sounding.
and stick shift and jerky
And it was cold there that November...I remember it so well....and it was dirt roads...nicely constructed dirt roads...plowed or something i guess..
tall pines lining either side.
I learned to drive there...and i took to it very well
Because I'd watched my dad drive all those years before
Hearing the soft dry scratchy sound and the steering wheel gently slipped and turned under his palms.
And see, it's safe for me to write this...Ain't nobody in the fam half interested in what I got to say....And so good for me...I'll just say fuck 'em all!!!!!!! Boring asses....
Blech....Beige fucking walls.....Anal Retentive bullshit.
I can't get the goddamned cat down..
He's been there since last night...stupid ass.
Boring Boring Boring
Oh how i love my cocoon.
I shall be just like my grandmother who lived in the little ol house that my grandpa built.
Cedar panels inside, termite pocked.
Smelled like kerosene, and everything was old and dingy (din-gee?)
Like vaguely remember a faded hotpink kitchen, maybe lemon yellow?
Kerosene always makes me think of Agnes' house.
And she had this little ol porch where she'd housed some little weiner dogs....and a chiuaua named peanut
And in the last years she lazed about all day on an old sheet covered couch, drinking iced tea, watching cooking shows or game shows and completing crossword puzzles.
Her mother's another story...Not too much to it. Just a few weird observations.
This is bullshit.
I wish to live another life.
Nobody gives a shit.
Blech....Beige fucking walls.....Anal Retentive bullshit.
I can't get the goddamned cat down..
He's been there since last night...stupid ass.
Boring Boring Boring
Oh how i love my cocoon.
I shall be just like my grandmother who lived in the little ol house that my grandpa built.
Cedar panels inside, termite pocked.
Smelled like kerosene, and everything was old and dingy (din-gee?)
Like vaguely remember a faded hotpink kitchen, maybe lemon yellow?
Kerosene always makes me think of Agnes' house.
And she had this little ol porch where she'd housed some little weiner dogs....and a chiuaua named peanut
And in the last years she lazed about all day on an old sheet covered couch, drinking iced tea, watching cooking shows or game shows and completing crossword puzzles.
Her mother's another story...Not too much to it. Just a few weird observations.
This is bullshit.
I wish to live another life.
Nobody gives a shit.
Sunday, March 14, 2010
So, in my 12 year old mentality (one of such that is enamoured by glittery and sparkly things, and only ever wishes to be silly, and feels like just about everyone is older and knows more) I have been hurt again.
There is a new baby in the family and, God help me, because her parental figures have pissed me off, i don't care to look at or touch it or coo over it.
We were informed that they, the parents, wanted everyone to sanitize their hands and whatever before holding/interacting with the baby.
We did so, the kids did so....High alcohol content burned the bejeezus outta the cuts on my fingers and hands.
My daughter was so excited to see her young cousin. She's the reason we went, otherwise i might have forgone the visit and waited until the family gathered again...Eastery.
As we entered the room we were greeted with smiles and welcomes and hellos and a birthday wish for Mark tomorrow.
The baby was held by her maternal grandmother who, while very attractive and intelligent, does not give off a warm vibe. And the kicker is , she's a minister's wife...This is the 2nd time I've met her and it's the same energy each time.
My daughter asked me, almost as soon as we entered the room, if she could hold the baby..
I knew they'd be funny about it. I told her that she was being held at the moment and was sleeping and that we'd see them soon for Easter. She was disappointed with that.
She let it go for a bit. We all talked and laughed..whatever...then she got the balls up to go ask herself...She asked the grandmother who quietly said something to her then turned to her daughter who replied in affirmation to whatever her mother had asked...My beautiful girl walked back to me dejected. And i felt that warm and mild fury overcoming me...Anyone who talked seemed to be a tunnel of sorts...All I could think of was that I didn't care about being there anymore, listening to their bullshit, oooing and ahhhing crap....nope! That was it for me.
I wanted to stand up and clarify why my 7 year old intelligent and gentle child could not hold their freakin' baby for probably 2 minutes...But, that's not how I do things...and sometimes i wish i just freakin' could....Just be a bitch if something is stupid or unfair....Yo GD baby ain't made-a fragile porcelain....Sorry...not nice...She's quite lovely and delicate, this little thing, but baby immunity is impenetrable when they are newborn. I mean, let this young girl hold your baby....God Dang...
So, that ol' bitch woman got up and handed the baby to her daughter, who did not begin nursing or feeding that baby, and she left the room (was on the phone when we were walking out and almost ignored us as we walked by....ew...yuck!) Georgia asked once more and the dad, very reluctantly, sat down with her and held her, while my child had to lean in for a picture...didn't let her hold her....WTF!?...that shit makes me crazy!......i really don't like people much...persnickety shit.....don't really care bout that baby now....
Oooooh...i knowze i should toin d'othah cheek....I'ze knowz it.
Datz not easy fo me.....specially when my kid's been dissed.
Blech.....i'm not real happy 'bout livin' today....Hate all these stupid fucking issues....Hate 'em...
How do others deal with them?
There is a new baby in the family and, God help me, because her parental figures have pissed me off, i don't care to look at or touch it or coo over it.
We were informed that they, the parents, wanted everyone to sanitize their hands and whatever before holding/interacting with the baby.
We did so, the kids did so....High alcohol content burned the bejeezus outta the cuts on my fingers and hands.
My daughter was so excited to see her young cousin. She's the reason we went, otherwise i might have forgone the visit and waited until the family gathered again...Eastery.
As we entered the room we were greeted with smiles and welcomes and hellos and a birthday wish for Mark tomorrow.
The baby was held by her maternal grandmother who, while very attractive and intelligent, does not give off a warm vibe. And the kicker is , she's a minister's wife...This is the 2nd time I've met her and it's the same energy each time.
My daughter asked me, almost as soon as we entered the room, if she could hold the baby..
I knew they'd be funny about it. I told her that she was being held at the moment and was sleeping and that we'd see them soon for Easter. She was disappointed with that.
She let it go for a bit. We all talked and laughed..whatever...then she got the balls up to go ask herself...She asked the grandmother who quietly said something to her then turned to her daughter who replied in affirmation to whatever her mother had asked...My beautiful girl walked back to me dejected. And i felt that warm and mild fury overcoming me...Anyone who talked seemed to be a tunnel of sorts...All I could think of was that I didn't care about being there anymore, listening to their bullshit, oooing and ahhhing crap....nope! That was it for me.
I wanted to stand up and clarify why my 7 year old intelligent and gentle child could not hold their freakin' baby for probably 2 minutes...But, that's not how I do things...and sometimes i wish i just freakin' could....Just be a bitch if something is stupid or unfair....Yo GD baby ain't made-a fragile porcelain....Sorry...not nice...She's quite lovely and delicate, this little thing, but baby immunity is impenetrable when they are newborn. I mean, let this young girl hold your baby....God Dang...
So, that ol' bitch woman got up and handed the baby to her daughter, who did not begin nursing or feeding that baby, and she left the room (was on the phone when we were walking out and almost ignored us as we walked by....ew...yuck!) Georgia asked once more and the dad, very reluctantly, sat down with her and held her, while my child had to lean in for a picture...didn't let her hold her....WTF!?...that shit makes me crazy!......i really don't like people much...persnickety shit.....don't really care bout that baby now....
Oooooh...i knowze i should toin d'othah cheek....I'ze knowz it.
Datz not easy fo me.....specially when my kid's been dissed.
Blech.....i'm not real happy 'bout livin' today....Hate all these stupid fucking issues....Hate 'em...
How do others deal with them?
so i watch Selma Hayack as Frida k and i feel ok living. And the things, most things, that we do to one another. the things that happen....
And i long for a succulent and cacti garden...
and i think of my failed attempts.
and i'm willing to try again.
I have a dead one, in a big clay pot, that has blackened from the freezes.
I'd had it for awhile.
And i let it die.
I've killed lots of th ings.
And i long for a succulent and cacti garden...
and i think of my failed attempts.
and i'm willing to try again.
I have a dead one, in a big clay pot, that has blackened from the freezes.
I'd had it for awhile.
And i let it die.
I've killed lots of th ings.
Saturday, March 13, 2010
Today, as i was leaving the store at the airport, i quickly spotted the body of a black cat that had been hit by a car and had come to rest in the middle of the lane that divides the shopping center in half....It was so peculiar to see a cat there, in that business place, in the middle of the cars that barely have enough patience to wait for an elderly bus rider to cross. He looked velvety and young and i thought of my young cat. I was horrified and obsessed and considered photographing his sad form there, but i didn't feel like fumbling for the camera. As i passed in front of him i saw that he'd only recently been killed..A crimson pool had poured from his mouth onto the asphalt and was still bright in the sunlight.
Friday, March 12, 2010
And this blasted movie maker!...how can a lover be so delightful, full of surprises, yet constantly leaving one in a state of confusion? cruel and fickle....left hanging....having to figure out what went wrong, and if he is coaxed ever so.......particularly.. then he concedes and we begin again...or end it....We're still together....just working through some things.
I ended my interaction his older sister not long ago, and although she was not quite as current/hip/updated, she was quick and very easy to work with.....really quick...I mean, this new guy...i sometimes gotta go eat a sandwich or somethin.....he just takes so darn long.
I ended my interaction his older sister not long ago, and although she was not quite as current/hip/updated, she was quick and very easy to work with.....really quick...I mean, this new guy...i sometimes gotta go eat a sandwich or somethin.....he just takes so darn long.
Thursday, March 11, 2010
Wednesday, March 10, 2010
shit my head hurts. again....dayz-in-a-row-now....pollen bastards. in my nose and sinuses and brain..
But the cloud that began around the end of the full moon has finally parted....still a bit overcast, but a few things have unkinked themselves.
I'm looking for cameras that can take being used repeatedly, clicked, unclicked, clicked again.
Clicked and quickly unclicked.....over and over.
so, i think cheap is my solution.
The nice ones breakdown too from lots of usage.
so i may as well just go cheap and can replace it without too much heartache.
pocketache.
And sometimes the cheap surprises you.....in its ability to remain strong.
functioning.
like the dollar store clippper i bought.
those suckers are sharp and cut through so many branches and thick vines.
Oh, I long for a secret garden.
the prince on his way to Aurora.
dammit....my thought is gone, the thougt to pen.
the beautufil woman last night at dinner.
perfect. smooth skin, and full lips, and full breasts, and those teeth.
she did look perfect
and my ambition and action to strive for that always ends in disappointment.
An odd sense of satisfaction periodically bubbles up;
I think if i remain separated from the mainstream for awhile i will find it again.
and maybe it will linger.
but the embarrassment and frustration and feeling shunned and different (even though i seem perfectly regular) always serve to make me more me (but that feels shitty sometimes too....long stretches sometimes) don't even fit in with the weirdos and nerds....like my two nerdy teacher friends who would talk to me and laugh with me and include me were spied leaving for lunch one planning day without any curiosity as to what this poor soul would be ingesting.....and all the arsties....all 1 or 2 i know.....dont think i;m cool enough, obscure and underground enough.....but the mainstreammers and trendsettersare impossible to keep up wwith...'cause we bout to cut back even mo own dat.
so, i shall remain a solitary something or other...wished to think of an animal totem to associate with....a mole came to mine, but then that connotes underground, and i am rarely that.
hmmmmm?
armadillo.
and why those dammed toes and fingers and feet so hard to draw
continue to retreat. not good with disappointment
so, in order to avoid experiencing that very often, i remain isolated.
don'treally like others very much....love them and their humanity.....don't like how i think they think of me.
But the cloud that began around the end of the full moon has finally parted....still a bit overcast, but a few things have unkinked themselves.
I'm looking for cameras that can take being used repeatedly, clicked, unclicked, clicked again.
Clicked and quickly unclicked.....over and over.
so, i think cheap is my solution.
The nice ones breakdown too from lots of usage.
so i may as well just go cheap and can replace it without too much heartache.
pocketache.
And sometimes the cheap surprises you.....in its ability to remain strong.
functioning.
like the dollar store clippper i bought.
those suckers are sharp and cut through so many branches and thick vines.
Oh, I long for a secret garden.
the prince on his way to Aurora.
dammit....my thought is gone, the thougt to pen.
the beautufil woman last night at dinner.
perfect. smooth skin, and full lips, and full breasts, and those teeth.
she did look perfect
and my ambition and action to strive for that always ends in disappointment.
An odd sense of satisfaction periodically bubbles up;
I think if i remain separated from the mainstream for awhile i will find it again.
and maybe it will linger.
but the embarrassment and frustration and feeling shunned and different (even though i seem perfectly regular) always serve to make me more me (but that feels shitty sometimes too....long stretches sometimes) don't even fit in with the weirdos and nerds....like my two nerdy teacher friends who would talk to me and laugh with me and include me were spied leaving for lunch one planning day without any curiosity as to what this poor soul would be ingesting.....and all the arsties....all 1 or 2 i know.....dont think i;m cool enough, obscure and underground enough.....but the mainstreammers and trendsettersare impossible to keep up wwith...'cause we bout to cut back even mo own dat.
so, i shall remain a solitary something or other...wished to think of an animal totem to associate with....a mole came to mine, but then that connotes underground, and i am rarely that.
hmmmmm?
armadillo.
and why those dammed toes and fingers and feet so hard to draw
continue to retreat. not good with disappointment
so, in order to avoid experiencing that very often, i remain isolated.
don'treally like others very much....love them and their humanity.....don't like how i think they think of me.
I am completely hot for tall Asian guys....There was a tall Asian guy who was our server at the Green Papaya....tall, Asian, great jet black rock-n-roll hair....fabulous....i think he thought i was cute.....or i liked to pretend at least.....Hell, they were all cute...Even the little woman who had a dikey haircut and i think may have been so.....
Ithink it's the cheeks.
the tall Asian guy from Amercian Idol, was voted off, but he was really cute too, and had a great jazz voice....
Tall Asian Men
TAM....
sexy
sexy tam
Ithink it's the cheeks.
the tall Asian guy from Amercian Idol, was voted off, but he was really cute too, and had a great jazz voice....
Tall Asian Men
TAM....
sexy
sexy tam
Tuesday, March 9, 2010
Sunday, March 7, 2010
Saturday, March 6, 2010
Goddammit! i hate not having siblings....other adults to share and be stupid with.
I see my spouse's family at gatherings and the interaction of the siblings and their children and i am reminded of my solitude.
I am not alone completely.
I have a partner with whom I have struggled GREATLY...but we are definitely at a crossroads, and I have prayed that we would get here (finally, after years of praying that one of us would die in a firey crash....oh god...I didn't mean it......just the angst at the time......)
My children are quickly becoming the only ones upon whom I can depend for a good laugh and some soul-time....Others are too busy, nuclear-centric (as I would be if I had close nieces and nephews and friends with whom i share a sibling like connection)
So, maybe i could make these people up......phantom friends......Will have to create some who challenge me. But don't make me too pissed so that I sweep them out the door....where the HOlly hocks grow....(from a song i was learning in voice class, MANY years ago...something based on Tennessee Williams' writing)
I see my spouse's family at gatherings and the interaction of the siblings and their children and i am reminded of my solitude.
I am not alone completely.
I have a partner with whom I have struggled GREATLY...but we are definitely at a crossroads, and I have prayed that we would get here (finally, after years of praying that one of us would die in a firey crash....oh god...I didn't mean it......just the angst at the time......)
My children are quickly becoming the only ones upon whom I can depend for a good laugh and some soul-time....Others are too busy, nuclear-centric (as I would be if I had close nieces and nephews and friends with whom i share a sibling like connection)
So, maybe i could make these people up......phantom friends......Will have to create some who challenge me. But don't make me too pissed so that I sweep them out the door....where the HOlly hocks grow....(from a song i was learning in voice class, MANY years ago...something based on Tennessee Williams' writing)
Thursday, March 4, 2010
She, and yeah, i;m gonna refer to myself as such, is feeling super defensive....at the moment
Her beautiful girl does not have too many friends to play with on her street....a little one down at the end of the road, but they just never seem to meet up.
And down at that end there is a cul-de-sac...(sounds pancreatic like, that term, gastronomic)
And that infrastructural formation, she believes..oops,almost did firsty, is probably one of the safest of those asphalt structures...like people can't drive by real quick and sit and grab a kid kkinda thing
Her child had made "friends" with her mother's friend's child..(different family, around the corner)
Her mother loves this mother very much, because, like her, she is struggling with unfulfilled desire to be self-sufficient and to have a true understanding of her place in the world, blah, blah, blah, and retching sounds....
The 2 girls seemed to hit it off, play in a very typical manner, entertain one another in giddy fashion, but her daughter has recently come to her to tell her that the friend goes out of her way to ignore her.....Her mother even watched the child ignore her when she instructed her daughter to confront the child about not speaking to her. Her mother believes in teaching the child how to speak up for herself, handle difficult situations in an honest and forthcoming manner. Truth about the situation is the most effective...
As the mother watched the child ignore her, the mother called to the child to tell her that her child was speaking to her and she didn't understand why she wouldn't respond.
She replied to the mother by saying, "I have a headache."
The child's mother (the mother friend) supported her child's response by reinforcing her claim, "Yes, she's got a headache."
Ok.....she let it go, but felt and knew that it wasthe beginning of seeing part of that child's personality that will be problematic and indicative of someone who doesn't treat others fairly.
This incident was filed away, and could easily have been deleted, but other occurrences would soon glue, staple and nail the coffin shut on the 2 girls developing much of a good friendship.
She, whose child has been treated unfairly, has felt remorse over the situation. She was hoping the 2 girls would grow up together, not unlike the sibling-type relationship she had with her next door neighbor for 20 years or so.
Her daughter, since the "headache" incident, has informed her that the child will ignore her repeatedly on the bus, has even asked to be moved away from her (as they sat together from the beginning of the year, willingly, excitedly).....and her child said,"it's ok, I don't mind not having anyone to talk to on the bus (and that broke her heart).
The best though, was when she went to pick both of her children up from an hour-and-a-half period of play at "headache's" house....The child had left her daughter behind, at her home, to go off and play with someone else. Her child was standing in the driveway with red swollen eyes and was pissed off when the mom came to get her. She informed her mother that the child had left to go play with another girl a few houses down, and when her mother asked "why didn't you go?" she responded, "she told me i wasn't invited and that I wasn't allowed"
Oooh...that mama was pissed... she told the daddy that her child had been left out and she called the mama of the child as well. Now, this mother is not one to fight, nope, she feels pretty wimpy most of the time, so she, as tactfully and rambling as always, made it clear that she did not want to force her child upon another who didn't want to play with her. The mother of "headache" did state that her child should not have left the house with a friend over. The friend apologized to the offended the next day on the bus, but, as stated previously, has since asked to move away from her.
Final incident, so far.....both girls take a dancing class together. She has told her daughter not to go out of her way anymore to have conversations with this girl...and why should she if she doesn't know whether or not the child will respond.....But, in order to remain civil, she should not ignore the child if she comes to speak to her....Remain warm and kind, but be guarded and look for friends who aren't as unpredictable. As they, both women and daughters, were leaving the dance school, the girl ( in very comedic fashion) ran to give "headache" a hug....arms stretched, legs almost tap dancing, making a silly goodbye noise as she ran to her...As soon as she reached the girl the girl made a very strong, clear, and bothersome turn from her, perpetuating her desire to show the child that she......what.....I don't know why.......is not receptive to the child's show of affection and friendship......"headache's" mother saw it happening and looked to the offended child's mother as she (offended, me) made a face of disappointment and hurt.....the mother did announce, speaking for her troubled child, "Goodnight" directed toward the child who'd attempted to show a bit of love and silliness toward her friend.
This mother's heart still aches thinking of it. But , lessons learned, some pain, time to look to others with a brighter light...and she feels pity for "headache"...Something's going on inside that is making her feel as if she should treat certain others in a poor and demeaning manner. Most likely others who don't exhibit mean and bossy and dominant personalities...."weaker" in a society of might being admired.....might in a mean and belittling sense....Hearkening back to a commentary about issues from childhood leading into a need to dominate others who aren't defensive.
Her beautiful girl does not have too many friends to play with on her street....a little one down at the end of the road, but they just never seem to meet up.
And down at that end there is a cul-de-sac...(sounds pancreatic like, that term, gastronomic)
And that infrastructural formation, she believes..oops,almost did firsty, is probably one of the safest of those asphalt structures...like people can't drive by real quick and sit and grab a kid kkinda thing
Her child had made "friends" with her mother's friend's child..(different family, around the corner)
Her mother loves this mother very much, because, like her, she is struggling with unfulfilled desire to be self-sufficient and to have a true understanding of her place in the world, blah, blah, blah, and retching sounds....
The 2 girls seemed to hit it off, play in a very typical manner, entertain one another in giddy fashion, but her daughter has recently come to her to tell her that the friend goes out of her way to ignore her.....Her mother even watched the child ignore her when she instructed her daughter to confront the child about not speaking to her. Her mother believes in teaching the child how to speak up for herself, handle difficult situations in an honest and forthcoming manner. Truth about the situation is the most effective...
As the mother watched the child ignore her, the mother called to the child to tell her that her child was speaking to her and she didn't understand why she wouldn't respond.
She replied to the mother by saying, "I have a headache."
The child's mother (the mother friend) supported her child's response by reinforcing her claim, "Yes, she's got a headache."
Ok.....she let it go, but felt and knew that it wasthe beginning of seeing part of that child's personality that will be problematic and indicative of someone who doesn't treat others fairly.
This incident was filed away, and could easily have been deleted, but other occurrences would soon glue, staple and nail the coffin shut on the 2 girls developing much of a good friendship.
She, whose child has been treated unfairly, has felt remorse over the situation. She was hoping the 2 girls would grow up together, not unlike the sibling-type relationship she had with her next door neighbor for 20 years or so.
Her daughter, since the "headache" incident, has informed her that the child will ignore her repeatedly on the bus, has even asked to be moved away from her (as they sat together from the beginning of the year, willingly, excitedly).....and her child said,"it's ok, I don't mind not having anyone to talk to on the bus (and that broke her heart).
The best though, was when she went to pick both of her children up from an hour-and-a-half period of play at "headache's" house....The child had left her daughter behind, at her home, to go off and play with someone else. Her child was standing in the driveway with red swollen eyes and was pissed off when the mom came to get her. She informed her mother that the child had left to go play with another girl a few houses down, and when her mother asked "why didn't you go?" she responded, "she told me i wasn't invited and that I wasn't allowed"
Oooh...that mama was pissed... she told the daddy that her child had been left out and she called the mama of the child as well. Now, this mother is not one to fight, nope, she feels pretty wimpy most of the time, so she, as tactfully and rambling as always, made it clear that she did not want to force her child upon another who didn't want to play with her. The mother of "headache" did state that her child should not have left the house with a friend over. The friend apologized to the offended the next day on the bus, but, as stated previously, has since asked to move away from her.
Final incident, so far.....both girls take a dancing class together. She has told her daughter not to go out of her way anymore to have conversations with this girl...and why should she if she doesn't know whether or not the child will respond.....But, in order to remain civil, she should not ignore the child if she comes to speak to her....Remain warm and kind, but be guarded and look for friends who aren't as unpredictable. As they, both women and daughters, were leaving the dance school, the girl ( in very comedic fashion) ran to give "headache" a hug....arms stretched, legs almost tap dancing, making a silly goodbye noise as she ran to her...As soon as she reached the girl the girl made a very strong, clear, and bothersome turn from her, perpetuating her desire to show the child that she......what.....I don't know why.......is not receptive to the child's show of affection and friendship......"headache's" mother saw it happening and looked to the offended child's mother as she (offended, me) made a face of disappointment and hurt.....the mother did announce, speaking for her troubled child, "Goodnight" directed toward the child who'd attempted to show a bit of love and silliness toward her friend.
This mother's heart still aches thinking of it. But , lessons learned, some pain, time to look to others with a brighter light...and she feels pity for "headache"...Something's going on inside that is making her feel as if she should treat certain others in a poor and demeaning manner. Most likely others who don't exhibit mean and bossy and dominant personalities...."weaker" in a society of might being admired.....might in a mean and belittling sense....Hearkening back to a commentary about issues from childhood leading into a need to dominate others who aren't defensive.
pain this morning.....head pain.
secretions from the nose all around the house
From the boy.
head pain.
in the front, in between my eyes
and the God damned printer won't work
and i feel like i could cry
and my neck aches, and there's no fucking money
And everything that was beautiful mocks me.
I will take my children to see that beautiful dimensional movie tomorrow, after school, so that my daughter will feel special and will discuss it with friends, but the friends don't find her as interesting as i do.
Faith does though, funny thing, Faith.....sometimes the religious crap means something to me....
Maybe more to do with steadfastidiousness in trudging through...to the end
my sibling's absence is a boulder from which to leap, into the air,and maybe a current'll carry me.
or i may plummet down into the churning rapids, as usual.
God, i hurt.
Fucking mutli-functional piece 0'turd....
secretions from the nose all around the house
From the boy.
head pain.
in the front, in between my eyes
and the God damned printer won't work
and i feel like i could cry
and my neck aches, and there's no fucking money
And everything that was beautiful mocks me.
I will take my children to see that beautiful dimensional movie tomorrow, after school, so that my daughter will feel special and will discuss it with friends, but the friends don't find her as interesting as i do.
Faith does though, funny thing, Faith.....sometimes the religious crap means something to me....
Maybe more to do with steadfastidiousness in trudging through...to the end
my sibling's absence is a boulder from which to leap, into the air,and maybe a current'll carry me.
or i may plummet down into the churning rapids, as usual.
God, i hurt.
Fucking mutli-functional piece 0'turd....
Wednesday, March 3, 2010
Tuesday, March 2, 2010
another endeavor, half empty as it may be, is to write of the material things i wish i had not discarded, or wish that i had gotten from the garbage heap i spied while walking, or wish that i'd had the cash to purchase.
1) this big beautiful oak, I believe, chest. From this 2nd hand place up on SouthSide Blvd...Probably 8 years ago.....Was with Mama-in-Law Doris....I had separated from her and found my way to this golden amazon....Not super Amazonian because I was taller than she, but she was "busty", or maybe broad shouldered.....wider drawers toward the top, tapering down to small compartments. Seemed to have some mirrors, vanity like up top too. So golden brown....beautifully aged wood grain.
She truly was gorgeous....
But what really made her so devestatingly desirable (and I;m aching thinking of her) was that when i opened her top most drawer, she held inside her wide, but slim, box-of-a-cavity TEETH.
Beautiful pearls.....Small dentures...so beautiful...(they were not like the wind up things one sees on Efferdent commercials...these were delicate, and shiny, maybe samples, looked sculptural)
I obsessed over her for many days, probably into weeks, but convincing my husband to pay the few hundred for the piece that would have taken-up a large area of our small townhome (that was already brimming with my incomplete thought) was not an undertaking i wished to expend energy upon...We'd most likely been fighting over other things, as was the case for the first 17 or 18 years of our marriage.
2) just recently...some, 2 or 3, old suitcases sitting outside of Ms. Gina's home daycare...
One was red, old plasticky Samsonite looking thing...Red molded handle.
Was with the hub again, so he'd have refused to go back.
And imagine what gunque may have been inside...old smells, probably not the good old books, and axle grease kind of aromas one encounters in quaint vintage shops.
So, there they remained, to be rained upon, pissed upon, crushed by the compactor.
3) again, in the rain, a lovely pile of National Geographic maggies.
Mark did refuse that time....and that would have been fab.
I did find a heap once at the Teacher Depot at J. Gorrie....i couldn't get them all, got quite a few, and they have the beautiful burgundy storage boxes with them....God Dern, I wish I'd gotten them all.....
4) wish I'd never parted with my funky Shiny Brights
I swear to God it seems as if shiney should have that e...because it looks like shinny...."that girl's a handsome sort, but i swear she's got to have the biggest shins I ever did see."
The reason I let Mark drive off with them to be taken to a thrift store is stupid.....and then, a year or so later i see this kick-ass ugly metal tree, so beautifully dull and cold, but loaded with the same GD ornaments that i let go....it was gorgeous...I still have the mag and will scan the picture one day......I miss them terribly....Have since purchased more, here and there, some very similar, but in my greed (and i do admit to that flaw, i consider it more of a vice because i like it and I usually only want bunches of shit that nobody else does, and i think it's because i like the underdogs and the the potential in what seems done-for)...um, back up...um, in my greed i wish i still had the once i sent away......never enough in my book.
I know there's a 5....something to do with beads, and my english cousin, and prince
Side Bar: I saw a black family last night at Walmart....we went to get groceries and aquarium salt and little pet shops for sissy and her brother. (bro acted like he wanted the black cat with the carved gourd basket, but then decided upon army men and razor wire and 2 cheap military aircraft all bagged together for four bucks)
This was a very cute nuclear type of fam....(standing at doors from Ggarden Ccenter into pet Ddepartment, having a conversation with someone they'd run into, holding his bag of something)
Daddy was not atypically dark...Mama was very light...and had flapper like hair and i swear to Hosannah, looked like Prince. so muchlike him.....she was delicate and creamy and pretty. Probably had a beauty mole....maybe below the left corner of her mouth....not certain.
1) this big beautiful oak, I believe, chest. From this 2nd hand place up on SouthSide Blvd...Probably 8 years ago.....Was with Mama-in-Law Doris....I had separated from her and found my way to this golden amazon....Not super Amazonian because I was taller than she, but she was "busty", or maybe broad shouldered.....wider drawers toward the top, tapering down to small compartments. Seemed to have some mirrors, vanity like up top too. So golden brown....beautifully aged wood grain.
She truly was gorgeous....
But what really made her so devestatingly desirable (and I;m aching thinking of her) was that when i opened her top most drawer, she held inside her wide, but slim, box-of-a-cavity TEETH.
Beautiful pearls.....Small dentures...so beautiful...(they were not like the wind up things one sees on Efferdent commercials...these were delicate, and shiny, maybe samples, looked sculptural)
I obsessed over her for many days, probably into weeks, but convincing my husband to pay the few hundred for the piece that would have taken-up a large area of our small townhome (that was already brimming with my incomplete thought) was not an undertaking i wished to expend energy upon...We'd most likely been fighting over other things, as was the case for the first 17 or 18 years of our marriage.
2) just recently...some, 2 or 3, old suitcases sitting outside of Ms. Gina's home daycare...
One was red, old plasticky Samsonite looking thing...Red molded handle.
Was with the hub again, so he'd have refused to go back.
And imagine what gunque may have been inside...old smells, probably not the good old books, and axle grease kind of aromas one encounters in quaint vintage shops.
So, there they remained, to be rained upon, pissed upon, crushed by the compactor.
3) again, in the rain, a lovely pile of National Geographic maggies.
Mark did refuse that time....and that would have been fab.
I did find a heap once at the Teacher Depot at J. Gorrie....i couldn't get them all, got quite a few, and they have the beautiful burgundy storage boxes with them....God Dern, I wish I'd gotten them all.....
4) wish I'd never parted with my funky Shiny Brights
I swear to God it seems as if shiney should have that e...because it looks like shinny...."that girl's a handsome sort, but i swear she's got to have the biggest shins I ever did see."
The reason I let Mark drive off with them to be taken to a thrift store is stupid.....and then, a year or so later i see this kick-ass ugly metal tree, so beautifully dull and cold, but loaded with the same GD ornaments that i let go....it was gorgeous...I still have the mag and will scan the picture one day......I miss them terribly....Have since purchased more, here and there, some very similar, but in my greed (and i do admit to that flaw, i consider it more of a vice because i like it and I usually only want bunches of shit that nobody else does, and i think it's because i like the underdogs and the the potential in what seems done-for)...um, back up...um, in my greed i wish i still had the once i sent away......never enough in my book.
I know there's a 5....something to do with beads, and my english cousin, and prince
Side Bar: I saw a black family last night at Walmart....we went to get groceries and aquarium salt and little pet shops for sissy and her brother. (bro acted like he wanted the black cat with the carved gourd basket, but then decided upon army men and razor wire and 2 cheap military aircraft all bagged together for four bucks)
This was a very cute nuclear type of fam....(standing at doors from Ggarden Ccenter into pet Ddepartment, having a conversation with someone they'd run into, holding his bag of something)
Daddy was not atypically dark...Mama was very light...and had flapper like hair and i swear to Hosannah, looked like Prince. so muchlike him.....she was delicate and creamy and pretty. Probably had a beauty mole....maybe below the left corner of her mouth....not certain.
then there is the issue of control...which i guess is power.....and when it is damaged and stripped from an individual, especially in formative adolescent years, I believe there is an enormous undertaking in adulthood to search for it, find it (as deformed and malconceived as it may be), and usurp it.
It is what drives a pedophile....No control as a child to stop molesters, so that morphs into the insatiable desire to exert control over helpless individuals
My friend told me of her boss being emotionally abused and periodically molested as a child and she, the boss, used to harm animals....drowning a rabbit, did something to a dog I believe.
Anger over the loss of control, power over your own body and mind, manifests into a twisted desire to bring suffering to the weak.
I love the ending of the movie Session 9 where the psychologist is speaking to one of the personalities that is cohabitating inside of Mary??? I believe.
The personality has finally come forth to admit that it is the one that has coerced Mary into slaughtering her entire family.....It is also controlling all of the other personalities inside of the host. There is something about the different entities being asked where they reside, not certain here, but when the final dominant one is asked where it lives, it replies,"I live in the weak and the wounded."
An empty gaping wound left open, a void in the psyche, succeptible to infection and malignancy
It is what drives a pedophile....No control as a child to stop molesters, so that morphs into the insatiable desire to exert control over helpless individuals
My friend told me of her boss being emotionally abused and periodically molested as a child and she, the boss, used to harm animals....drowning a rabbit, did something to a dog I believe.
Anger over the loss of control, power over your own body and mind, manifests into a twisted desire to bring suffering to the weak.
I love the ending of the movie Session 9 where the psychologist is speaking to one of the personalities that is cohabitating inside of Mary??? I believe.
The personality has finally come forth to admit that it is the one that has coerced Mary into slaughtering her entire family.....It is also controlling all of the other personalities inside of the host. There is something about the different entities being asked where they reside, not certain here, but when the final dominant one is asked where it lives, it replies,"I live in the weak and the wounded."
An empty gaping wound left open, a void in the psyche, succeptible to infection and malignancy
Monday, March 1, 2010
Love this movie program my friend has given me....I find little hidden tricks each time I play with it....He has shown me 2ce how to produce the final movie, and yet i still fuck it up.
God Dang i do not learn quickly....gotta really screw up until i get it right...in everything...Hopefully not my kids....the girl seems ok, the boy has this rabid look in his eye.
God Dang i do not learn quickly....gotta really screw up until i get it right...in everything...Hopefully not my kids....the girl seems ok, the boy has this rabid look in his eye.
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