crystallyn.com

8.31.2000

so she won

The meanie boss got what she wanted. Today they asked me to leave the company. I have two months to transition...I can work if I want or I can just take the severance. They'll help me find a job and give me a good recommendation. I was told that there wasn't a suitable billable position for me to move into and since I was so unhappy...they would rather help me find something else. I am in such shock. Pure and utter shock.

Sooo...if you know of any Internet company in the Boston area that needs a marketing director...let me know. I'm looking.

Wow. I just can't even begin to believe it. I've been a little distraught...I really poured myself into that job, into the company.

But I am sleeping in tomorrow...

5:24 PM | link | up| archives |

morning post

they're drilling on the building again. sounds like I'm at the dentist...ewwww what an incredible phobia I have about the dentist too. Hearing the drilling makes me feel like all my teeth are going to come out. Plus the floor is vibrating. I keep waiting for them to break through the ceiling, the floor or the wall behind me.

and I talked with my best girlfriend this morning, Lauren (she lives in CT), who is telling me about this cop that she met through the personals...6'4" big huge guy that drives a Harley. But the kicker is...he likes to shop. And she tells me that it's not any sort of shopping...he likes craft fairs. Craft fairs!! I asked what he bought at these craft fairs and she said she was afraid to ask... it's screaming at me...CHARACTER IN A NOVEL. That's the thing though...I could have made up something that crazy in a novel and the reality of it is that there are people in life just as in art. I guess that's what makes it all so interesting, huh?

Oh, and the personality test at Spark.com tells me that I'm:

ARTIST (Dominant Introvert Abstract Feeler ) (WAIT---I am SOOO much the extrovert...something isn't right here...)

Crystallyn: Like just 3% of the population you are an ARTIST (DIAF)--creative, adventurous, and deep. Although you are an introvert, your dominant ideas lead you to assert yourself often--especially through your work. You actively put your creativity to constructive use, and because you are ruled by your heart you are less likely to be inhibited by logic. You have an intuitive understanding of emotion and know how evoke it in others, but the real world can be a prison of foolishness and embarrassment if you don't get your head out of the clouds a little more. Also, you are 87% likely to write poetry. Please, for the love of God, stop now.

giggle. that reminds me, I have a new poem for Greg...

9:00 AM | link | up| archives |

8.30.2000

oh and a posies moment...

singing the Posies really loud in the car as you drive home....god I miss those days of doing record and radio. I have pictures of me and Ken and John somewhere during one of the several interviews that I did. I should dig up the picture of me with the big 23 that Ken wrote on my shoulder in permanent marker at a gig... Now if they would only come to Boston, sigh.

5:39 PM | link | up| archives |

good things

chocolate
upcoming three day weekend
my favorite architect is coming back into town...wait...he's the only architect I know
commiserating with coworkers who agree that she's a meanie boss
chocolate
new cool clothes
writing new poetry
chocolate

I'm fixating, can you tell?


3:33 PM | link | up| archives |

amazed

yet again with technology. hooked up the cam last night and had numerous conversations via messenger while on the cam. michael made me do all sorts of crazy things, making faces at him, flipping him off, and other general silliness. my mom and dad and brother (who was in a car accident this last weekend...has a fracture of some sort in his ankle, I think?) said hi too, laughing at me. I made them a video and wowed my dad.



And then Michele (We're pictured here with some strange German guy)!! My dear friend from Seattle, who I was lucky enough to see here in Boston a few months back, came online. We had a great chat and I made signs saying hi to her adorable daughter. She said it was as though she were there with me, since she could see me and write to me at the same time.

Now if all my distant friends would just get one so we could video phone...

It is a little disconcerting to be so "out there" and at the same time there is a strange sort of exhibitionist excitement about it, I suppose. In a way. I used to be a lot more in the public eye in my past...I used to do radio, I've been a concert announcer in front of thousands of people...so this isn't too discombobulating.

And I want Greg to come online so I can wave at him thousands of miles away in China...except I think he's travelling at the moment, heading up to Shanghai to see his very cute lover. He wants me to meet him in Paris for Christmas...oh god I would give anything to do that...



8:39 AM | link | up| archives |

8.29.2000

i succumbed

to the webcam craze. oh god. I have stooped to exhibitionism. Link on the left. Hi mom.

8:58 PM | link | up| archives |

my hero



This man, my friend Payman, is my hero. Every time I am ready to go near ballistic, to implode, explode, turn into a puddle of mush, walk out the door, go postal, or begin babbling incoherently about how much I hate the meanie boss, how frustrated I am that the department I built is pushing me out...he finds just the right thing to say. Time and time again, when he has little time to listen, he stops what he's doing and makes me realize that I am not so crazy, that there is a lot of truth to what I am feeling, and that other people know and see my plight. And he has just the right words to say about the people I'm frustrated with...chortle..."fucking asshole" would be his apt description. I am still trying to be diplomatic, I find...I wish I could do away with the diplomacy and get away with it like he can. But the thing is, he "gets it." Actually, it's not even that...he gets ME...the who I am...and I find that is often a rare thing indeed. Thanks, Pay.

1:55 PM | link | up| archives |

disconcerting

it's extremely sad and frustrating to see my company already posting my job to be filled. i just can't believe I have sunk so much of myself into this position and now it has come to this. damn stupid meanie boss. woe to the person who has to come in and fill my shoes...they'll need all the luck they can get. now if they would hurry and move me out of this stupid department.

8:50 AM | link | up| archives |

8.28.2000

strange pick up lines

it was the guy next door, who I had never seen before but he seemed to know who I was. he started hitting on me, talking to me as though he's known me for years, asking me about how my car got banged up. I had just parked my Kia Sportage in front of my apartment and wasn't even out the car door yet (and no, for those of you who know my little pseudo crush on the guy who lives in the building with the law office, this isn't the same next door neighbor). he had a funny accent that I couldn't place. he drives a green jeep cherokee. he told me all about how he got in a wreck last week too...$8k worth of damage? that seems a little bit odd to me, but well, I just nodded my head and kept looking for the quarter I needed for the last half hour of the meter. he kept going, telling me all about how they put a terrible paint job on it and when he took it through the car wash, the paint on the back door started to fleck off. Again, I nodded. where was this going? nowhere...me at the mailbox and into the house. he lives next door above the insurance building. my luck and it's the same apartment with the window that stares into my bathroom...




11:19 PM | link | up| archives |

loosely connected

I remember seeing an article not long ago about how, with the advent of email, families are staying connected and communicating in ways that they never did before. I know this to be very true for me. I write to relatives I would only normally see at the random family reunion and the exchanges now are so enlightening. Especially with my aunts on my mother's side--her sister and the two wives of her brothers. My Auntie M has a new site with gorgeous poetry (lush!) and art. I was so pleased to go there and discover that the world is smaller than I thought and that sometimes you find kindred spirits in unlikely places or even right under your nose. My sister just got email finally, after all these years. She was so funny...I had to explain to her everything about the Net...even how to use a search engine...she works in retail management for a major department store and just has been very disconnected (but I get all my perfume and cosmetics for free!). So now she's writing me here and there...her husband writes as well and it's great to be able to keep up with my little nephew. My mom loves to instant message me and we definitely do stay a lot more connected with the Net than without.

That's what all this is about, isn't it? connection...we all seek and desire it, need it, want it. We have chat, mailing lists, email, Web sites, online personal ads, web rings, bulletin boards... This guy I know, Scott, over at Spoonfed wrote about it a bit ago...check out his List Apart article. His premise was that we are all looking for something...what that is is dependent on each of us. I would finish that thought and say it's connectivity...some kind, any kind. Our voice to be heard, to be recognized in some way. There is a guy at my company that hardly says boo in every day life, but you give him the Net and he's a completely different person. He has the tools to connect in ways that he doesn't feel at ease doing in every day life. Suddenly we can connect with people across the globe, make friends that you never would have, meet people you never dreamed of meeting. I have conversations every morning with one of my best friends, thousands of miles away in China, through a chat tool. I've made friends all across the country, met several of them (both good and bad scenarios...grin) and my life is irrevocably changed as a result. It's all about connection. Connection that maybe we aren't getting in our every day lives. Or in a lot of ways, it is enhancing the existing connection. My best friend Michael and I talk nearly every day but we still spend a lot of time writing and messaging...it's a way for us to be connected and commiserate about things in our daily lives. My dear friend AJ works with me, we talk all the time but we still message each other throughout the day since she's on a different floor or sometimes in a different building. It's enhancing what we already have.

I'm just always amazed at what an intricate Web it really is...how you find people in strange places, discover new things about people, make new friends, build up old ones. I am connecting with you, my dear reader, in a way that was never possible until the last ten years. You get to have a piece of me that otherwise only a few people would get. Pretty amazing, huh?


3:04 PM | link | up| archives |

8.27.2000

my nephew walks like a drunken sailor

that's what my sister said when I asked if little 15 month old Cameron is walking...great, huh? I can't wait to see him when I go home for Christmas. It's hard to be the favorite aunt when you're 3,000 miles away.

painted tonight. two pieces where I mostly practiced my blending but I'm pleased with the results. abstract pieces that appeal to me. maybe no one else, but to me. they were inspired by a painting a friend of mine has...which he should really hang somewhere instead of putting it on a box to get knocked over...or where people like me can pick it up and put their fingers all over it (me, just have to be touching things, i swear). It's amazing though, how cathartic that the act of painting is. I get so lost, so absorbed. I have never been so consumed by an activity before...well, scratch that...by a hobby, before.

back to the meanie boss tomorrow. wish they would hurry up and decide which department they're moving me in. sucks to be too versatile sometimes.




11:21 PM | link | up| archives |

fate has a fickle finger

I find myself in a very strange state of melancholy, retrospect and inward reflection. I went and saw Girl on the Bridge this afternoon, a French film made by the same director who did The Hairdresser's Husband, which also had a profound effect on me when I saw it. But this film really left me in a heightened place. It was shot in black and white, which was perfect...artistically beautiful. I could really identify with the characters, with Adele especially in particular ways...her run of bad luck that she seems to have. It was an unusually erotic movie...it is a lovestory between a knife thrower and his target...and I could also understand and connect with the way that the fear and pleasure combined when they were performing. Highly unusual depiction of the exchange of power. NOT that I really want knives thrown at me, however. But I found myself in a lot of retrospect after this film, going over my life and the crazy things that have happened to me, the choices I've made, the amazing drama that I always seem to find myself in. About luck and love and the things we want and can't have. Someone once tore a hundred dollar bill (in the movie, it was a 50) and gave me half. Insurance, he said. I think that it was bad luck that I gave it back, months later, even though we used it for something we did together.

Then again, what is luck? Is there really such a thing? Or do we make our own luck after all?

I need to paint.

6:34 PM | link | up| archives |

reflection

my friend greg sent me more of his poems today. and i find myself homesick as I read them...remembering when we lived in boise together, seattle together...and now thousands of miles apart. sharing poems across email isn't the same as in person. he makes me want to write more, to experience more, to find a way to be as eloquent as he is. poetry is, in my opinion, one of the most revealing things that a person can do...reading his poetry, I find out more about him than I ever could have imagined. I know the same is true for me, my poetry leaves me wide open.

need to get dressed I think...it's 1:00, jeesh! what is wrong with me? I'm never so lazy. but at least I'm clean. the shower is a place of solace for me. I'm not sure why, especially now, since I live alone again, but it is. A place where I can contemplate, reflect, often cry, meditate, try to figure out what is going on in my life. There is something so comforting in the water rushing off my skin, in the smell of the soap and the shampoo...it is cleansing more than my body. It is a place of purification...brings me back to a place of strength again.

and so I cancelled out on hiking with friends today and I'm wondering if I should have done that. I just didn't want to be the tired link in the chain knowing that I was going to be out late. it leaves me in a spot where I'm fending for myself again. sad, huh? so today...cleaning...painting...running errands...maybe another movie?

things I need to do: buy a bike
call and get my caller id and directory sorted out
send that package
call home and see how my stubborn father is doing
buy new blinds
enroll in that poetry workshop
change the catbox ewwwww
call and get my car fixed
take care of that insurance paperwork
call Bowne and find out if they have figured out my 401k

no ankle update, but I think it's better...







1:06 PM | link | up| archives |

8.26.2000

personalization pranks

I discovered yet another interesting site, this one about personalization, something that is rather near and dear to my heart since I used to work with Open Sesame, one of the coolest personalization products for the Net. They were sucked up by Bowne Internet Solutions (now Immersant) and then finally found a home with Allaire. Personalization on the Net has barely barely happened...but we have come along way since Eliza, the first "bot" that came into being. Eliza could respond to your text based queries with her own strange logic.

So someone took a version of Eliza and hooked it up to an AOL chatroom...the results are hilarious.

For an interesting view of what personalization has yet to do to the Web, visit my friend Nicole, who has a lot of expertise in personalization technology and software. Then there is always our dear friend Jack, who is the personalization director at Bn.com, although on his site you might find more musical theatre than bits about personalization...



5:24 PM | link | up| archives |

achille's heel




I wonder today how Achille would have done on Pole Position he were alive today? Here is the ankle update...as you can see a bit better. Still that funny half moon mark, but better.

Went and saw What Lies Beneath today. Wow. Talk about a great thriller. Michelle Pfieffer is such a goddess. The bathtub scene was one of the most suspenseful that I've seen in a long time...eerily shot, with such an amazing way that they used the lack of sound to accompany it.

And I bought oil paint...me on my continuing quest for colorful expression.





5:14 PM | link | up| archives |

8.25.2000

bizarre body part update



The latest in my injured friend's ankle saga. Note the brilliant red color just under the ankle...and the slight bluish discoloration further down that is the beginnings of a bruise. Swelling body parts are always a bit fascinating, don't you think?



5:59 PM | link | up| archives |

pain

Julie over at Inner Freedom has identified my friend's once handsome ankle: "Hello... I'm guessing the bizarre body part featured on your site today is a swollen ankle? I've had one and the picture looks pretty much like it..." Giggle...it is a bit bizarre, huh?

and I am angry at the stupid driver that pulled out in front of me six years ago...the guy in the truck that my car t-boned...lucky it wasn't jacked up or I would have been decapitated. But it feels like I was nearly sometimes. Today, at work I suddenly experienced one of my random piercing headaches...they start at the base of my neck and shoot upward past my ear toward my forehead. It feels like my head is going to split in two, quite literally. It's NOT a migraine...these headaches are muscle induced...tight muscles in my neck. I downed about six ibuprofin and went for a walk till it was bearable and now I'm complaining (lucky you!) Where is my masseuse! I'm going to go hunt down Sven...



5:22 PM | link | up| archives |

caffeinated

so I have the coffee...but not quite 50 cups of coffee, where I found this really wild site (if you don't have IE 5.0 or Netscape 6 don't bother going--it's very graphic intensive), Heavy.com. It's a good place to get lost.

and the meanie boss is having me farm out simple things to a writer...because she doesn't think that I have "writing talent." So the writer is charging $1,000 for two hours worth of last minute work, which kills me. I'm in the wrong line of business, that's for sure. I could have the content written in a half hour and it would be in the scope of my job. Hey, if she wants to spend money frivolously, then well, it will come back to bite her later and at least I won't have anything to do with it.

8:57 AM | link | up| archives |

guessing games


I'm feeling especially cruel (I am still sans coffee) and want you to play a guessing game. A friend took this picture and sent it to me. Can you tell me what on earth it is? *wink*








8:19 AM | link | up| archives |

8.24.2000

muddy waters

The latest in whacked news: Amazon to Sell Cars, Sorta

Just what the hell does Amazon really do these days anyway? I mean, what kind of store are they? Someone needs to give Jeff Bezos a tip...this dot.com ecommerce thing is a bit like painting...you can blend colors together and sometimes they create wonderful things. But when you put too much into the mix, it just ends up muddy...


10:32 PM | link | up| archives |

cathartic

just finished with my oil painting class...it is truly the first hobby that I have found that I can become completely and entirely immersed in. in saying that, I mean that for the space of time where I am painting, the only thing I am thinking of is painting. I don't think about work, I don't think about other people, I don't have stress, I don't have worry, I am truthfully thinking of nothing more than mixing paint, placing paint, swirling and smoothing paint, light and perspective, layering, shadows, color on my skin. I'm getting better. Third class and I already feel significantly more confident...I have a modicum of talent...enough that if I am practicing I should eventually be able to paint something decent enough to give to someone besides my biased parents a gift.

and the evening is the perfect summer evening...crickets in blissful symphony, a sweet breeze...what a perfect night it would have been to walk on the Charles. but it's just me and i'm exhausted and have little splots of paint on me...my legs, my arms, probably my face for all I know...

9:40 PM | link | up| archives |

i need

to buy a bike.
to call red envelope and get them to get my brother's watch back. (did that...the kind people returned it and so I had it sent again...Chase will be pleased).


1:47 PM | link | up| archives |

blitching about sex

Jag said all the things that I didn't quite get to saying when talking about sex early on in relationships and basically about casual sex in general. And she said it far more eloquently than I probably would have.

Funny thing to me is the way that friends often view you as a result of what they might consider indiscretions. I know that if I did ever have sex (damn lucky man that is) on the first date, there would be very few people (three to be exact) that I could feel comfortable telling that to...and when talking to the rest of my friends, if I mention that I had a great date the night before I can see the unspoken question in their eye...the wondering did you do it, question. And if the answer was yes, then suddenly you look a little different in their eyes. So much for being liberated women.

She's right...it's all about communication and understanding. I couldn't imagine giving myself to someone that I didn't really respect and who I didn't believe couldn't offer me the same respect back. I've been wrong before, but I have belief in myself and in the guy when those lines are crossed. And YES...you have to be responsible for your actions and be able to suffer any consequences you walk into. If you are lucky, the results are good...and there is new communication as Pay and I talked about below. If not, then you move on and accept it. Besides, if you did do the deed on the first date and the guy doesn't stick around then either a. chemistry was way wrong b. he wasn't worth much in the first place. Lesson learned.

Sounds so cut and dry doesn't it? Actually it is. If you can't grab the bulls by the horns, then don't be running in the first place.





12:09 PM | link | up| archives |

fate

so they're deciding my fate this morning. sorta that is. at work...trying to get me away from the meanie boss. we'll see. I have a feeling that it might be an internal research position for three months, helping define and package our services. but then what? where will I go, what will I do? one of my coworkers thinks I should just be looking elsewhere...in his words, "why be a second-tier person here when you could go anywhere else and be a director?"

the construction guys next door are drilling through the wall into the building again...and my poor head hurts just a little.

So I have this little i-zone camera...the kind that does the mini-sticker polaroid pictures...and why is it that when I really want to have a picture, it doesn't come out? The people are blurry or they look like Casper the Friendly Ghost(which, btw, was a favorite cartoon...up there with The Flintstones)! And why is it that the ones that other people take with it come out looking pretty nifty? Except that the little pictures might go through the laundry if you don't first take them out of the pocket in which you tucked them away.

I can kick anyone's ass at the sit down video car games. I was a rally car driver in a past life, you know. *smirk*

Oh, and my dear friend Greg and I lamented across the miles on instant message this morning...how much we both miss Seattle and things like The Stranger. Check out Savage Love...but wait, doesn't Dan Savage syndicate that column now? Still, it used to be a Seattle phenomenon only. And the personals rock! I have a lamp in my apartment that I collaged with a few issues of the Stranger, ages ago...sigh. Why does China have to be so far away?



9:59 AM | link | up| archives |

8.23.2000

sex again

So I went to lunch today with one of my favorite people, Payman. We went down to the local steak house...of which we are both a good 30-40 years younger than everyone in the joint. Plus we were both dressed in black so we had the hellion look down pat. We talked about a myriad of things, but of course, in the end, it turned to sex. The conversation at hand this time was one night stands...or rather not even one night stands, but on the implications of sleeping with someone for the first time. How society views women as sluts for sleeping with someone too soon. How men sometimes get the warped response of losing a bit of respect for the woman for sleeping with them on the first date (because in the back of their mind they have the same slut icon stamped on their brain and how could they have a relationship or a friendship with someone like that, heaven forbid). His view on things is that when you sleep with someone for the first time, you get to know them in a way that most of their friends and loved ones don't even ever see...that level of intimacy is revealing and it can break down barriers. I have to agree...people become very vulnerable in that state, both men (yeah, yeah, you all think you're so macho, but we know the truth) and women. You see a side of them and it reveals a lot about them. We decided that the wonderful thing about sleeping with someone for the first time should be so that you can get to know them well enough to be able to open up brand new dialogue. How did he say it? Fucking to get to the talking. It made so much sense the way he said it (too bad the man is married (with an amazingly wonderful wife to boot)). I think that a lot of the perspective comes with age, maturity, or actually more so with a comfortability about the self and the ability to respect the people that you choose to be with...when you get past the point of one night stands, when you can just appreciate people for who they are as a person. Then again, I think it's rare that you find people that have that respect. Sex is like money...it carries with it all sorts of emotional baggage and it tends to cloud people's judgement.

I'm not being very clear, am I? Well to be clear for all you anonymous readers out there, I'm not into one night stands...but at the same time, I can understand chemistry works in funny ways...maybe the sex is amazing and the rest isn't. The reverse is true too. I once dated a man years ago when I was in college who I had amazing chemistry with. The sparks FLEW whenever we were around each other. Arousal became our middle names. However, when we finally moved to explore that chemical attraction, we found that it just wasn't so great...not sure, why, but it just wasn't...it's as if the chemistry disappeared when certain parts of our bodies got together. But even still, it didn't affect the overall chemistry...we still had that spark between us...it didn't make us uncomfortable to be around each other. It didn't make the wanting to see each other less desirable. I saw him several years later during my married years at the airport in Boise one Thanksgiving...the chemistry was still there. You could feel it radiating around us as we stood, his parents waiting and mine waiting nearby. It was the strangest thing. But it really has made me reflect on what chemistry is...it's physical and sensual, but it's an elusive beast, not easily defined and it differs from person to person and situation.

Then between Payman and I it broke down into Sex and the City talk, grin.




2:47 PM | link | up| archives |

8.22.2000

drugs make kids kill!

I was going to go do some grocery shopping tonight and when I went out to my car I found this flyer on the windshield. All the cars on the sidestreets had them. So now I understand why we have so much violence among our kids! We're all making them take drugs that turn them into psychopaths! God that's such massive bullshit. #1...how did the kids get on prescription meds in the first place? what sort of environment and upbringing have they had? #2 where did they get the guns? #3 you can't begin to tell me that every incident of child violence is linked to a prescription drug...that's incidental. There is a reason that they put the kids on the drugs anyway...they were probably MORE psycho before they got the drugs. It just fries me...it all goes back to education and upbringing and the things we teach our children.

ahhh...I just noticed at the bottom...the Church of Scientology...hmm.

A few months back I was a bit mired in some online rpg game for the space of a couple months. I met a couple that I used to play with (purely game related...get your mind out of the gutter) and after awhile, the wife gave me their number to call so we could get to talk in rl. I called...she was nice enough (it was a bit difficult to handle the deep southern Alabama backwater accent) but her six year old son was in the room, trying to get her attention. Rather than just telling the kid, no honey...I'm on the phone, just wait...she started cursing at him, screaming at the "little fucker" to go play somewhere else. She called him the worst names and my heart just went out to that kid. I just can't imagine growing up in an environment like that. I'd be picking up a gun at the age of 12 too. I stopped playing with the couple...it just turned my stomach way too much.

As I get older, I am more and more thankful for the wonderful, supportive and loving environment my parents gave me, even during the times when we were growing up that money was tight and tension was strained. They certainly aren't the most perfect parents, but they gave the three of us a safe haven during the times of our lives when we needed it most, when it would shape us and create the people we are today. *note to self, call home soon. :-)

9:09 PM | link | up| archives |

garbage hopping

So our webmaster assistant pointed out the window today at something highly unusual. A man, in a suit and tie, standing in a garbage dumpster, jumping up and down. He was trying to crush the garbage down so he could close and lock the lid. We stood there, fascinated. His tie was flapping, white shirt a glare in the sun, and his expensive Italian leather shoes crushing down the sacks and bits of paper and god knows what else. I walk by that dumpster on my way to the bank and have to hold my nose. So I was imagining what it would be like to sit in a meeting with this stinky dumpster jumping man afterward...oh keep me from hurling. I don't want to think about what rotting stink and germs are all over his shoes, his pantlegs...ick. Kevin, our webmaster guy, made some smart remark about how it's where the cat doctor in the building next door puts all the kitty corpses when they're put to sleep. Needless to say, he got pelted by miscellaneous desk items that we could grab to throw at him.

I'm still in a sort of weird shock, not believing that I saw it. Where was my camera?

12:55 PM | link | up| archives |

profitable porn

fascinating article from one of the best Internet stastical sites out there, Nua.com: Porn: not what it used to be . One bit is rather interesting: "'Sex' used to be the most-searched-for term on the Internet, according to Searchterms.com. Now, 'sex' is relegated to third position, after 'travel' and 'mp3'. The rest of the top-ten search terms are fairly innocuous: 'cars', 'Britney Spears,' 'health,' 'autos,' 'careers,' 'apartments,' and 'hotmail.' Innocuous that is, except maybe 'Britney Spears.' " Eww...Britney Spears...make my skin crawl...



11:45 AM | link | up| archives |

higher learning

things I have discovered in the last 24 hours:
*cocktail straws make great bracelets if you do just the right things with them
*i learned about the chicken ranch in nevada
*my stupid POP mail doesn't always send things when it is supposed to, sigh sigh sigh. my best friend is all over my case because I said I would send something (and I did!) and he didn't get it. Sooo I imagine that there might be other people with the same sort of problems. I'm getting mail, so that's not the problem, I think it's the leaving of the email. grrrrr.
*that my cat, Romeo, has his own email address!!! What an amazingly savvy cat! How does he do it? He can seduce us to give him belly love and emails! I'm sure that dear Romeo would delight in such electronic touching.


8:51 AM | link | up| archives |

8.21.2000

rant

Now WHO thought of putting all the cutesy sayings on paper towels? I just went to get one and I realized, for the first time, 3/4 of the way into the roll, that it said, "Home is where love surrounds you." Oh my god, how amazingly innane. I just stood there and looked at it and realized that I'm the only one in my home and it's me and my cat and while he loves me in his own aloof fashion, there is no surrounding of it. And what about the broken homes, the abused kids, the dirty politicians, the depressed, the sad and lonely...what a way to put a damper on their day! Just remind them of what they don't have! Jeesh. Chinese fortune sayings would be much more appropriate. *note to self: buy WHITE towels next time.



4:58 PM | link | up| archives |

stubborn @#)$&($#

My family, I swear... What is it with my relatives? On both sides? If there is some sort of health concern going on, I am always the last to know. It's always been like that with my grandparents on both sides...I'd find out after surgery that they were in the hospital. And now, my father. I had to find out from sister that things were worrisome...and when I called my mom she wondered how I knew about it, as if I wasn't supposed to know. Sigh.

My father is the most stubborn man on the planet about some things. And this time, he has made me really crazy. Some new symptoms are showing up that might indicate that the prostate cancer he's had might not be gone after all. The radiation treatment he took last year seemed to have eliminated it, but now he's got blood in his urine and they have determined it's not kidney stones, so now...who knows. So he's got tests scheduled for the 8th and 9th of SEPTEMBER. What is up with that? I called and told him to make them move it up. As Michael said quite plainly when I told him, "That's such complete and utter crap." So when I asked my father to have the doctor move it up, he just said no and tried to change the subject. Sigh. I suppose he just doesn't want to know that it might be coming back. I don't blame him. I can't imagine how it must feel. I know how *I* feel when I think about it. My father has been both the greatest source of annoyance and influence and inspiration in my life. It makes me so crazy though, that he won't go and find out, that he won't work to try and see if they can take care of it sooner than when it might be too late. He says it isn't serious...how can that not be serious???? blood in the urine is always damn serious I thought. He just grunted at me and changed the subject...asking how I am doing at work and if I've managed to get away from the meanie boss.

Sigh. Hardheaded bastard. If I weren't 3,000 miles away I'd be dragging him to the doctor myself.



3:19 PM | link | up| archives |

sans caffeine

Things I should keep in mind:
* a. get to sleep earlier or b. sleep in later
* do not drive through Davis square on the way home tonight unless I really like being stuck in construction traffic

Today's Forgotten English word: Spinning-House: The place in Cambridge (England) where street-walkers are locked up, if found out after a certain time at night. ~JC Hotten's Slang Dictionary, 1878 Apparently they used to make the "incorrigible and lewd" women spin flax and wool...this, my friends, is where the unfavorable connotation of the word spinster comes from.



8:35 AM | link | up| archives |

goddesses

My dear darling Niki (you CAN hit me for that, btw) says she is the Persephone to my Venus. I think she's right. She is the sly one, I can vouch for that...

Send some good vibes in her direction for her sickly kitty, Clyde. I used to take care of Clyde and Bonnie when Niki and John would go out of town...Bonnie would hide but Clyde and I would always have wonderful, sweet conversations.

This darling Venus is off to sleep.



12:19 AM | link | up| archives |

8.20.2000

going earless

today i went to visit Van Gogh. the problem is, Van Gogh didn't want me to be dropping by. Sold out! So I wandered the collections and realized that I have a whole new outlook on art since I started this oil class...I am in awe of what some of those artists accomplished. wow. I realize that the impressionists are a lot more interesting to me than they used to be.

Tomorrow is back to the meanie boss, sigh. SIGH. I just really don't even want to look at her. I'm dreading it. DREADING it.

and back to emode...chortle. I'm a bona fide flirt. I think I knew that too.

Emode's got the lowdown. Read below for your detailed test results.
Playful Intentions
It seems like you are someone who appreciates the fun of flirting from a position of safety, whether the security of a relationship or just through physical distance. Because you do not appear to flirt all the time, you seem to have a healthy respect for the potential consequences of the game. There is nothing wrong with innocent flirting, as long as everyone has the information they need to make informed decisions. So, if you remain as respectful and conscious of the feelings of others as you appear to be, then what's wrong with flirting a little and enjoying yourself?

Serious Intentions
There are some times when flirting can be a risky activity - namely, when you are interested in someone and it is not just about playing a game, but about pursuing them for a relationship. You appear to be someone who takes risks in this area. You are probably willing to go out on a limb to let someone know that you are interested in him or her. This approach has the advantage of directness. It can also open you up for rejection, but if you are prepared to face the consequences, then there should be no hesitation. It takes a lot of courage to actively flirt with someone in whom you have a serious interest, so kudos to you for being out there.

Physical and Direct
Being physical and direct seems to be something that you are at least mildly comfortable with. There are many ways to express one's interest and attraction to someone, and you seem to be relatively comfortable going the physical route. It appears, however, that you also hold back a little. This hesitation could imply that you don't always feel comfortable getting into someone else's space, or that you only do it when you feel that it is appropriate and non-threatening. This tendency can be good because it means your intentions won't often be misunderstood.

Nonphysical and Subtle
You sure know how to play that flirting game!! There are some people who prefer the subtle, non-physical route to attracting the attention they desire from others, and you seem to be a master of such social intricacies. One of the best things about this approach is how it allows you to pursue what you want without being blatant. And you can play innocent and coy if something you did gets taken out of context or misunderstood. You are probably someone who likes to play the subtler end of the game of flirting, and it seems that you know the rules pretty well.


9:00 PM | link | up| archives |

8.19.2000

in the randomness of things

so in my wanderings, I came across two places that struck me...one came from my referrer logs...this site, which is interesting because the guy, while much younger than I, travelled much the same path as me in a really convoluted way, going from Boise to Seattle to Spokane and back to Seattle (for me it started in Spokane, went to Boise, went back to Spokane and then Seattle). You heading to Boston next Dan? It's the next stop on that path...chuckle.

And then this site, that I found on diarist.net, owned by guy who could live nearly next door to me for all I know. Anyway, check out his site...he's got some killer pictures of Cambridge on there. Plus, although a couple years younger, he has the same birthday (June 5) as me so he automatically falls into a particular coolness category.

Painting happened. I have this big, nearly empty room that needed an easel and so that's where it is. Not being from around here really, I never had been in Pearl in Central Square before. It's an artists heaven..everything you can possibly think of there. And I realized that I felt oddly out of place without any piercings or enough tattoos (*note to self...take picture of tattoo so you can actually show it to people). Then again, if I had been born ten years later, I would probably be pierced and tattooed all over. I was such the little punker chick back in the 80s...parts of me are glad that those things weren't fashionable back then.

And I've been itching to write...the painting does it, I think...makes me feel extremely poetic. I was thinking about poetry and the professor I had ages ago back at Whitworth...Laurie Lamon. And I came across several of her poems. Most of the ones that I could find were in the Atlantic Monthly. She was wonderful to learn from and it's exciting to see her works in print from 3,000 miles and six years away.

* Potato *
* When You Tell Me *
* Pain Thinks of Itself and Privacy *

I am wondering if my memory serves me right and if the poem, "Pain Thinks of Itself" is the one that I remember her writing during my senior year, or perhaps the year after I graduated. She wrote a poem about another one of the professor's loved ones that was dying of AIDS, I believe. Then again, my memory could be pretty shoddy all these years later. Still, her poetry is poignant, a bit haunting and it makes me exceptionally glad that I had the chance to study with her.





7:02 PM | link | up| archives |

sometimes it really sucks

this living alone thing, that is. I want to be out with people and doing things and laughing and exploring but all my friends are: a. out of town b. sick c. have plans with their significant others d. have lives. e. live far away. I just don't have many single friends, sigh. And YES I am lamenting. It's a gorgeous day and I will go out, but it would be infinitely better with engaging company. I'm getting tired of looking at the damn apartment. So maybe it's a Harvard Square day and I'll go see a movie and go get art supplies. Or maybe I should just hole up and write. Or maybe I should go out and write. Or maybe I should go to the MFA and see Van Gogh while he's still there...might give me fuel and technique for my oil painting. Or maybe it's back to Harvard and instead I'll go to the Fogg and then also get art supplies. Sigh. Who knows.

I would have loved to have gone hiking today.

All right. My lament is over. For the time being.

11:53 AM | link | up| archives |

nostalgia

My closest friend, Michael, sent me this picture of him on the beach as a wee one when he was growing up in England. I saw it and I suddenly went into sappy Hallmark mode...the tears beginning to creep out of the corners of my eyes. It was such a shock to see it, I think...I realized I had never seen any pictures of him when he was young. It impacted me...I think because I thought I really knew this person (well, aside from all the reasons why we fight a lot these days) and then seeing this picture made me realize that there is a whole history that I have no clue about.

We carry so much with us. My mother was talking to me a bit the other day about her childhood...it was a lot harder than I ever knew until recent years and it changed my perspective on my mom and how she looks at life. I was lucky. I had a wonderful childhood (forgive the fact that I had to grow up in places like Spokane, WA and Boise, ID) that is full of happy memories. My father was an architect when I was young and he designed the house in which I spent many of my most formative years. I still have dreams about that house.

Speaking of dreams, the time for contemplation, nostalgia and reflection are past...sleep is waiting impatiently for me. I'm ready to dig out the toothpicks for the eyelids. Ouch. That would hurt.

12:41 AM | link | up| archives |

8.18.2000

sex goddess

emode rates me as a SEX GODDESS. But then, I guess I already knew that...*wink*

The lowdown: A brilliant bolt of lightening descends! SHAZAAM! The oracle has spoken! The smoke clears to reveal that inside you is a divine being, VENUS, the Goddess of Love and Beauty.

Let's just say that you are a deity with quite a fan club. Popular and pretty, you fill men with desire. Taking pride in your appearance, you have a very feminine way about you. Although you have perfected the art of innocent flirting, beneath that naive exterior lies a woman ready to hit the sheets and get busy. And once you're in the bedroom, your divine instincts take over. Smooth as silk in sexual situations, you know how to make your lovers melt. And you awe men with your sexual confidence and skilled performance. You are a diva of delight. Suddenly, like a light from the heavens, your partner discovers your true inner nature. Behold, the skies proclaim, here lies a goddess!



8:59 PM | link | up| archives |

mickey mouse is a girl

Bet you didn't know that. It's true. If you go to Disneyland and you see Mickey Mouse (he appears mostly in New Orleans Square), chances are that Mickey (and Minnie) are girls behind that costume. I know this because I used to be a "Merchandise Hostess" in New Orleans Square/Critter Country once upon a time. And if you knew me you might find that funny...and even more funny to know that was probably one of the best jobs I have ever had. The worst paying, but the most enjoyable by far. I also did crowd control for Fantasmic...a laser light show. I used to work the VIP balcony and let the "stars" in. I met the most random people: Billy Idol, Molly Ringwald, the Osmonds, the middle girl from Full House (what is her name? it's Stephanie on the show...one sharp chick though), Bud Bundy (what is his name too? lol. he's SHORT...came up to my chin or so...and I'm only 5'4"), Robin Williams and Tim Robbins...and a few others. Fun fun fun in the California sun.

I'll have to post my tips and tricks to getting around Disney...to avoid standing in line, where to eat, when to ride certain rides, but for now, I think that this Gen-Xers Guide to Disneyland is pretty damn cool.

Even cooler...whilst in the midst of all that hoopla, I was living on Newport Beach and working at Virgin Records...total disparity, huh? It was great...I played with the mice and was promoting bands like Cracker and Smashing Pumpkins. And getting a great tan.

oh to be young again!



1:20 PM | link | up| archives |

tgiff!

that extra f is for an expletive, by the way. on monday the meanie boss comes back. she's going to HATE me for putting a halt on her branding campaign. the half-assed branding campaign that makes our company (Internet development) look like a Gap commercial. Ewww. We have taxi-tops in Boston, NY and San Fran...they have a girl with her arms outstretched...she looks like, as my friend said, "she's offering herself up for a sacrifice."

so what the hell is branding anyway? it's a circular argument mostly and there are many camps as to what it's all about...and many more that rally against the idea of creating a brand, of succumbing to the corporation, of creating an atmosphere to herd sheep. i haven't had enough coffee for the counter-rant, so you don't get one.

i do know that it's fucking cold in this office and being cold makes me yawn. yawn!

and so I was on memepool today and found this site that really made me giggle madly to start my Friday morning.


8:53 AM | link | up| archives |

8.17.2000

luscious

slippery paint. wet, nearly palatable, sensuous, sliding sort of stuff. I love my oil painting class. painting is extremely savory for me...it makes me feel madly poetic. I love the connection that I have in the way that I look at the world as a painter and in how i write.

so my first...very first painting...is ready for your viewing pleasure. it is a highly suggestive piece, although you would never know if i told you the subject matter is bags and boxes. it took on an o'keefe quality of it's own that i didn't recognize until I took a step back. So here...go here (this is only a slice of the picture...it was too big to scan)...and then tell me...if YOU were a psychologist, what would your diagnosis be?

I am going to go get some latex *sly smile* and do some finger painting this weekend...with the oils...pushing their slickness over the canvas, massaging vivid color, letting the visionary experience explode beneath my fingertips. Mmmm. makes me want to be writing erotica again. *note to self ------>get off your lazy ass and write something ambrosial and delirious (remember how you used to be making money at it...remember that you are living on one salary now?)

And so I am a bad bad mistress today. I should be punished, severely, for letting my loverkitty stay locked up in my office all day. and what a saint! not a mess at all. my poor romeo...he just looked up with those big blue eyes when I found him, waiting for me to roll him over and give him belly love (he's a rare cat...loves a good belly rub). I just can't believe I did that. bad bad BAD crystal. he should have scratched me or something.

and there are worrisome things on the family front, sigh. health stuff and dysfunctional elderly relations sort of stuff. I am reminded of how the thought of getting old really freaks me out. Here I am, 29, feeling storms in my bones when they roll in...hoping that I am not going to be falling apart when i'm ancient and old, wrinkly and alone in the rocking chair on the porch and a burden to those relatives that have the misfortune to live close. sigh. can I stop getting old now? I have one more year...this last year of my twenties is hitting me hard for some reason.



adorable picture of me and my spanish friend quique at that wedding I went to back on the 5th. It was taken with one of those little sticker cameras so the resolution isn't so hot when you blow it up. forgive me.

i'm NOT going to blog till midnight though. not tonight. not this time. no. NO. no crystal. NO.




11:36 PM | link | up| archives |

btw

I'm not British. *wink* full blooded american with mayflower ancestors (the billingtons). scary, huh? Well at least I came from a long line of hellions...chortle.


4:10 PM | link | up| archives |

morefool

i have a habit of opening mouth, insert foot. my mouth is far more ahead of my head. sigh.

11:48 AM | link | up| archives |

lovefool

my echinacea isn't working.

tonight is more painting. are we doing color tonight? hmmmm..what sort of visually sensual trouble can i get into? turpentine...I NEED to buy turpentine...today at lunch. me, paints, slick oils sliding on smooth canvas...of COURSE I'm going to be painting things i don't realize I'm painting.

10:50 AM | link | up| archives |

mr funny

there are rare people in this world. i know this one guy, you see, and he has definitely let me see him in fine form. one time, several several months ago, during a brief lapse of judgement, he became a bit inebriated. now this in and of itself is not so rare or unusual. but when we went to urban outfitters and he grabbed a hold of the power drill that was on the counter and was waving it around, much to my amusement and a bit of embarassment....now THAT was rare. i'm not so sure that moment will ever live itself down. I think that moment will forever rest in my memory, in my stockpile of rare, important moments in my life...of which I have many.

so what is a girl to do? I am a FOOL. Yes, you read that right...big fucking FOOL. I mean really...I'm a girl with friends that like to wave random power drills into the air (and the foolish thing is that I LIKE to hang out with the power drill waving type). I get myself entangled in situations where I want people I can't have or the people I can have, I don't want. I fight incessantly with my best friend and I still talk to him regardless of him being a stubborn british technologically inept sort of guy. i speak my mind sometimes too much. i send an expensive watch to my brother for his birthday at the wrong address and he never gets it. i stay up WAY too late blogging on this damn site.

have you ever taken a risk in life? stepped out of your safety net and felt the ice cold weight of the world wrap itself around you? have you ever really been brave? I don't mean in a gambling sort of way...there is safe gambling and there is the blind, crazy sort of wagering...the wild HOPING that you have that you just might get what you put yourself on the line for...the taking of a chance.

I used to be safe. I lived my life in the safe sort of hoping...not really putting myself on the line because it was too scary. Someone showed me that it is better to be in the world, FEELING it all rather than letting my life fall where it may...letting things fall into place...trusting that it will all be okay.

There is no okay. There is no safety net. There are only our own wild fabrications. Nothing is sure. Nothing is a guarantee. This year I have put myself on the line. I walk it every single day. I have fallen and when I have, it's been hard, deep and bloody. But the rewards are far greater than if I never put myself there at all. Safety is an illusion...one that I wish, often, that I could hide behind.

I am living alone again for the first time in eight years. I am on one salary...a good one for one person but the adjustment is hard. When I get sick there is no one to take care of me. When I cry, it's just me and my cat. When I meet people, I take big chances with my emotions...and it hurts when it doesn't work out...but my father taught me the most valuable lesson of my life: No matter how shitty life gets, you just get back up and start again. I have watched him OVER and OVER in his life, knocked down in really scary ways. He just gets back up and starts going again...hardheaded, stubborn...and I admire him for it.

So while I have a lot less safety, I have a lot more joy. I am experiencing my life. I am LIVING it. I am believing in things, learning about me, meeting people, trying new things (bananas foster!) finding different and good emotions in the people I knew before.

and I walk through my life as a fool...with the crazy wild hope that there is something out there that is so spectacular that i have to reach for it, knowing all the while that it is going to hurt when i fall short.

But the truth is, Ursula K. Le Guin said it best: It is good to have an end to journey toward; but it is the journey that matters, in the end.

trite, but true...I want to try and live every day and feel like I didn't miss anything...that if I died, I wouldn't have any regrets because I never took the chance, never hoped, never wondered, never experienced...never FELT.

It IS fucking hard to feel, you know.

12:18 AM | link | up| archives |

8.16.2000

we lead each other on

meanie boss was there today. we avoided each other mostly.

my life has been full of contemplation lately. who the hell i am, what the hell i am doing, why the people i think might be super cool turn out to be shallow assholes, where am i headed, why do i torture myself, why do i hate tomatoes, why did my fucking mail program go kaput on me, why are you reading this, why am i writing this, why am i not writing something else, why haven't i bought any turpentine yet, why hasn't my phone rang yet, who are you, why am I always stuck with things and people I don't want and why can't I have the ones that I do, why are so many people obsessed with blogger, why did someone have to hit my car, why can't my stupid landlord put the window screens back in right after they painted the house, why is my little nephew Cameron so cute, why do mosquitos carry deadly viruses, why am i sitting here ranting?

5:56 PM | link | up| archives |

8.15.2000

Mnemosyne

is being memorable always a good idea? i suppose it depends on what you are memorable for.

oh...I have found the most amazingly shallow site on the planet. what in the hell are we teaching our youngsters?

*did my most hateful chore: dishes (EWWWW...HATEFUL)
*filed the accident reports today. went to insurance adjuster (are they born grumpy?) who estimated damage at a mere $916.00. need to call the doctor tomorrow...neck is stiff a bit.
*up at 5AM tomorrow. have to be at the royal sonesta by 6:30 to help my coworker get ready for the 8AM seminar our company is putting on. which means I get to see the meanie boss (she's on flipping vacation! can't she stay on vacation? sigh sigh sigh sigh sigh)

and so there is a lesson in not burning your bridges...and that everything that goes around comes around: one of my ex-bosses at a previous company who gave me not one real iota of respect while I was there...who never believed in the ability to do my job...is always asking me for marketing advice these days. go figure.

sleep now. sleep sleep sleep.

10:03 PM | link | up| archives |

masochism

the best friend is back from England. and now i remember what a fucking masochist i am (although typically not in these sorts of ways). there is NO one that I would ever let get away with causing me so much grief, frustration, anger, laughter and joy except him. lately our friendship has been like walking a bed of hot coals...pain pain pain pain and then I step off and realize my feet aren't so burned so i go back and do it again. This is probably the same thing in me that made me wear two different shoes to work back on the 11th...the part of me that needs the whap upside the head.

There is a quote that I found once that reminds me of why I do this with him...why i stick it out to salvage what is left, what I believe can be good again.
Should you desire the great tranquility, be prepared to sweat white beads. ~Haikun

I'm sweating baseballs some days. I think he does too.

maybe I should find a new best friend though. perhaps Caroline will do the trick. she's english too, after all. you know how those bloody english can be.

6:27 PM | link | up| archives |

memory and chemistry

so in a moment of reverie, i did some looking and found this page of a guy that I once knew. as far as i know, he's married, 3,000 miles away and still playing music. one of those sorts that left me with warm fuzzy memories. he once sent me a can of crystal pepsi in the mail... *grin*

1:36 PM | link | up| archives |

addicted

to venti mocha valencias. i recently saw how many calories were in one though and i freaked. i might have to switch...oh god can i do that?

so my best friend is supposed to be back from england as of last night. I'm a little frustrated with him at the moment...he sort of fell off the face of the earth during the last week. perhaps because he left as we were on the heels of an argument. perhaps because he's just an inconsiderate blockhead. perhaps he has some perverse pleasure in making me worry.

and now there is the accident report to file. i should call my doctor but i think i'll wait and see how i am tomorrow. i looked at my car and the damage isn't really all that bad...it's just going to be a massive annoyance to get it fixed.

but I did succeed in stirring up trouble at work, asking management and my peers to look over the current collateral designs (of which i think are absolute crap but i have held my tongue). our amazing ceo came through, saw how frustrated we all were at the direction our advertising and branding have been going (with utter lack of respect for the people who work in the trenches...we don't have that stuffy corporate attitude at all). he put the project on the back burner. my manager (soon to be ex-manager) is going to be PISSED. *smirk*



9:11 AM | link | up| archives |

8.14.2000

shadow trash

so some girl hits me this afternoon, swerves into my lane and wipes out my front headlight. not a serious thing, but it shook me up and every muscle in my body tensed because i could see it coming and wouldn't you know that today my neck was REALLY bothering me and i was planning on heading home for a muscle relaxer and lo, and behold...she has to fucking hit me in her trashy dodge shadow. and what is UP with massachusetts cops? they seemed annoyed that I called an officer to the scene (give me a break, I'm from Washington state...you do that there, you get a cop to take a report in case you get sued or in case you do the suing). he didn't write anything down, just asked if I had exchanged information and then sent us on our merry little ways. HE DIDN'T EVEN GIVE HER A FUCKING TICKET. anxious to get back to dunkin donuts methinks. tomorrow, the doctor, sigh. the insurance agency was closing and wanted me to call back tomorrow. ohhh don't get me going about what I think about this crazy place in which no one gives a rats ass about anything but themselves.

so I came home to the lonely apartment and moaned to my kitty. my kitty doesn't give good neckrubs though. sigh. i think that is one of the hardest things about living alone for me...not having anyone to take care of me when i am sick or when i hurt. to just have to be alone and suck it up or rant in places like this.


6:02 PM | link | up| archives |

about fucking time

Finally...the balance has tipped.
Internet Users Come of Age; More Women Online And 2/3 of women think that cybersex is cheating? Hmmm. I wonder what I think about that. I think that it probably is in many ways...I say that only because I have been in the midst of such steamy messages and I have to say that...yeah, it was me emotionally disconnecting rather than talking about how I was feeling. The Internet is a great outlet for people to lose themselves when everyday life is not doing it for them. Cybersex, RPGs, chat rooms, etc. NOT that it is a bad outlet, but that it's very easy to seek out the company of others in an anonymous fashion. Anyway, I'm at work and not in the right place for such a rant.

But wtf is up with Fleet? I go to do my bill payments and sure enough, mid-payment, the site goes down. Yeah, yeah, know...why am I banking with such a freaking corporate conglomorate...(I actually was CHARGED $17.00 for not having anything in my savings account...I have a negative balance there now, go figure). Whap me upside the ahead again, again...do it. I deserve it. I am a bit of a masochist, sigh...but dammit, not THAT kind.

My dear darling beloved Greg hashed up my piece that I wrote this weekend...thanks for that (that's sincerity, btw...it is a trite little piece that needed hashing). These are the times that I wish we had TRANSPORTERS. Yes, that's what I need...a transporter to eliminate the distance between me and my friend in China. This Net thing just doesn't cut it. I would much rather be sitting there, drinking wine, hashing out our poetry or our fiction, laughing and talking about boys and girls and sex and life and literature and how much we both miss Seattle.

And I am left thinking today of Irving, my gargoyle that keeps me company, and makes me giggle just a bit.

10:36 AM | link | up| archives |

8.13.2000

one more before sleep

gumballpoetry

11:07 PM | link | up| archives |

Evil Marketing Plot

I can always appreciate fine, inventive marketing. Check out the latest...using a series of "personal" sites to viral market Lee Jeans.

Cheesy Web Sites a Big Viral Hit

Much better than advertising on taxi tops, eh? Talk about the power of the Internet.


10:51 PM | link | up| archives |

not quite sunday morning

I love the North end...the people, the energy, the tiny, charming apartments. Things that I find important in life:

*laughter
*strawberries
*margaritas
*languid moments

My laundry plans of this morning were foiled, but for good reason, but I managed to luck out and get in there this afternoon to do it. Drives me crazy to sit there and wait. Two things that I am going to be sure of in my next apartment: dishwasher, laundry in building. Or maybe a houseboy...that would also do the trick.

And oh...finally, there is a new site for: The Pottery Barn. Danger danger danger...grin.

4:56 PM | link | up| archives |

8.12.2000

i've got my own way

"Am I straight? Am I gay? I finally realized that I'm just slutty!" ~ Margaret Cho

So I saw this really interesting movie today, sort of a Magnolia-esque sort of thing called The Five Senses. The reviews are a bit mixed so it's probably best to just go and see for yourself if you liked it. It's very much an art film, and the scenes are beautifully rendered. I really enjoyed it...and found it ironic that the character who was attached to the sense of smell was a man (women are known to smell far more keenly) and that what he was looking for was the smell of love...imagine bottling love, imagine what it would smell like, taste like. He believed that if someone was in love with you that you could smell it. I had a lover who really honed in on how I smelled. He claimed that he could smell my scent on him when I was not there. He loved to hug me and breathe me in. I found myself very seduced by that. Napoleon used to write letters to Josephine telling her not to bathe if he was going to come home--he was so enamoured of her own smell. In my grandparents backyard when I was growing up there was a Russian olive tree...a sort of weeping willowish sort of tree which had long tough thorns on the branches. I don't ever remember actual olives growing. But the smell...oh god the smell is something that instantly transports me. It's the most amazing smell. I have only smelled it once since I moved East...out passing a farm that must have had one planted in the yard. I realized then how much I identified with that one singular smell. It brings me so many wonderful childhood memories.

Oh, found a very cool site... Fray I think I need to be buying one of their Hope t-shirts.

6:45 PM | link | up| archives |

off my butt

at least a little bit. At least as far as writing is concerned. I revamped a piece that I wrote years ago...finally. I know a place where I want to submit it. It's a piece about driving...When Driving, I Always think of Death. Constructive criticism is always welcome.

I watched Interview with a Vampire again last night. Only the bazillionth time I've seen it, but I think I appreciate it more every time. I remember first reading that book nearly 18 or so years ago. I was pretty young but I remember how affected I was...it was so sensual, exotic. I wanted to BE a vampire. And my adolescent mind really idolized Lestat. I remember how excited I was when the book Vampire Lestat finally came out. Ooooo ahhhh. Now the books are so mainstream, but at the time they were mine...no one knew about them and I don't remember wanting to share. Ohhh Teri, I'll get to New Orleans soon, I promise. grin.

8:59 AM | link | up| archives |

8.11.2000

running from the police

the fashion police. i have sunk to the lowest of the low...i am bleary, weary and still not caffeinated. i should have stayed in bed this morning.




i wore two different shoes to work. YES! it's true. go ahead, laugh at me. you know what's worse? i never realized it until 3PM today...now THAT is sad. sad sad sad. whap me upside the head...hurry.



3:16 PM | link | up| archives |

melancholy

is it me sans caffeine?
my best friend out of the country (idiothead that he can be)?
the thought of having to do laundry this weekend?
not writing?

me sans caffeine, methinks.

to do:
*buy new blinds for the apartment
*pay bills
*clean that crazy office up
*write
*revamp the other site...the one that you don't get so lucky to get the URL to.
*call the parents...see if my brother ever recovered his watch
*buy more turpentine
*sleep. sleep. sleep. sleep.

10:24 AM | link | up| archives |

8.10.2000

turpentine and sex?

Painters and poets alike have always had license to dare anything. We know that and we both claim and allow others in their turn this indulgence. ~ Horace

I am officially both a painter and a poet. Although I am a MUCH better poet at this point. No fruit. Boxes. Black and white boxes and bags. It was hard! Harder than I thought...but in the end, I could tell what everything was, I had some idea of how the oils worked and am hopeful for the next class. Learning about the texture, the edging, the shadows...it's all light actually. I really think that the painting will go quite sweetly with the poetry. It's about looking at things differently, expressing a very hidden part of myself.

And don't you know that I can't keep my sexuality out of my painting. It was a bag turned on its side...and well, the opening was darker than the exterior and well...lets just say that the instructor made sure to point out that you can't hide behind paintings...that they reveal all...and that he wouldn't go all Freudian on me, but it would be easy to do so in looking at my painting. He didn't quite make any O'Keefe references, but he might have. Sure enough, I stood back from my painting the first time and saw what that particular bag looked like, on it's side, the outline of the opening dark and clear and haunting yet inviting...what can I say?

I'm pretty sure that I won't ever graduate to nudes, but clearly I'll be good at other, suggestive, sensual sorts of things...even when painting paper bags.



11:17 PM | link | up| archives |

infoglut

this is how I feel.

11:42 AM | link | up| archives |

is it monday?

six hours sleep. me sans caffeine. anal-retentive construction cop with a power complex. *note to self: do not drive through Porter square on the way to work while they're still tearing up the road--unless I want jail-time for going ballistic.

8:25 AM | link | up| archives |

8.9.2000

dog tired

but in a mode and so here I am, writing.

on my way home tonight, in the cab on the way back from Newbury, I saw a couple kissing...they were across the street from Niketown...is that Clarendon? I had the most amazing voyeuristic moment and I was sad that the cab wasn't stopped at the light long. They were tucked in an alcove...his back to me, messenger bag slung over his shoulder, leaning downward to kiss her. She had her arms around his neck, held in a soft, casual sort of stance. It was the rhythm that I think got to me...that sort of sang to something down in my blood. They were swaying in a sweet, deeply primal sort of way...very subtle yet very deliberate. When the cab moved forward, I could see that the woman had long dark hair...but you couldn't see either of their faces. It was just that dance, that delightful movement. I didn't need to see anymore to know that their tongues were touching, lips grazing, hips full of desire. I wanted to watch...to be the silent observer...to discover how his thighs touched hers, how they carefully avoided stepping on the open toes of her sandals, how they had to brush her hair away from their lips when the wind blew. It is a sexual sort of want, but also peaceful and appreciative of such a sensual, beautiful moment in time. I wonder how many couples are kissing in alcoves as I type.

so I think that I was in a certain hyper-aware state that some charming architect told me about...he was describing how certain smells are strong in that sort of state, but primarily alongside of a hangover. I have been rather hung over today, but tonight it was not drink. I was very aware though, despite (or perhaps because of) my haze...very aware of eye color and touch, of the lights shining out of people's houses on Comm Ave, of the way that the bricks were laid in the beacon hill houses that we passed, of the shadows of the bridges on storrow drive, of the way that the wind caressed my face as I lay my head back on the seat of the cab and listen to the cabbie's smooth jazz.

And the John Waters movie...Cecil B. Demented is a delightful oxymoron...Punish Bad Film, he says. Chortle. Well, I passed the test...and am now an official Sprocket Hole. The site, is at least, as entertaining as this less than socially redeeming film. Stephen Dorff was the wonder of this film...or wait a minute...maybe it was satan girl...maybe I should go to fucking sleep.

It's always a cool thing when you know someone who will drag you to a bookstore filled with ladders, volume stacks and the token cat...and then put some tea and french fries in you afterward.



11:50 PM | link | up| archives |

places to keep

kissthisguy
women's font collective
someone told me that i need to see this ;-)
camarades
waferbaby

2:25 PM | link | up| archives |

ice is nice

very nice.

10:18 AM | link | up| archives |

8.8.2000

sticky

it's all sticky. the heat. my body. tires to the road. my eyelids. ice cream lids.

so the painters left my windows open today and it's as hot, if not hotter inside my apartment than outside. and it's humid and i'm sticking and my hair is wacky and my kitty is lazy.



6:05 PM | link | up| archives |

8.7.2000

Devilish

"What a mischievious devil love is." ~Samuel Butler

I am too an angel. Promise. Well, sometimes. Except when I'm wearing my horns.


11:57 PM | link | up| archives |

Take a Chance On Me

Still have that ABBA cd in the car. "If you change your mind, I'm first in line, honey, I'm still free..take a chance on me..." God, I remember being eight and convincing my mom to buy an ABBA 8-track from Columbia House. That and Fonzie Favorites. Hey, I was eight.

Niki took off yesterday afternoon...back to Wisconsin. Seeing old friends is a good thing...and it is sad that I don't get to see her more often. She'll be back in October for the next wedding that we're going to. Saw several people this weekend that I haven't seen in quite awhile. *note to self--scan in that excellent picture of quique (such a sexy Spaniard that he is) and I. We had to tease him about being the "jungest" of the group...chuckle.

And so they are DRILLING through the wall of my building. Seriously! They've added a whole extra building onto the place where we work and the last few workdays and for the rest of the week, they'll be tearing down the wall that separates us. The BRICK wall. It sounds like you are at the dentist....that bone-chilling, skin-crawling, hair-raising sort of sound. Heaven forbid if my phone decides to ring today.

And certain meanies are on vacation. WOOOHOOOO. Two whole weeks of breathing time and not dreading coming into work. Whew.





10:53 AM | link | up| archives |

8.6.2000

More sex

Why is that you drag six people back to your apartment at 11PM and you start drinking...that all the conversation turns to sex? Good sex...freaky sex...arguments on whether or not there is bisexuality or not...discussions of how they test for gonorrhea in men...

sleeeeeeeeeeeeep. without the sex.

And funny, we were singing ABBA's Gimme Gimme Gimme a Man after Midnight at the top of our lungs after we decided to abandon the hotel and drive back to Boston.

1:17 AM | link | up| archives |

8.5.2000

Black Celebration

Is it bad to wear black to a wedding? An Irish-Catholic wedding at that? My mom would be mortified. Well then again, I think she's hardly surprised at me anymore.

I did try to find a new dress for this shindig...but it's all fall colors (i.e. black or grey or this season freaky leopard print) or hot materials. So I'm in black. But it's sexy black, elegant black. I look excellent in black.

Champagne. Old friends. EEEEK...old bosses (that's the problem when you go to weddings where there are a lot of ex-co-workers). Well, I didn't burn any bridges and I'm sickeningly good at playing the political game, although I hate every slimy moment of it.

Soooo how many grandmas do you think will look at me funny when I'm not kneeling at the wedding?



9:25 AM | link | up| archives |

8.4.2000

Margaritaville

Met up with all the ex-coworkers tonight...even though I'm seeing all of them at the wedding tomorrow. Had a great time...argued politics with our dear misguided Russian friend (jk, dmitry). Talked about old bosses, old times, crazy new things, met a few new people...

I've been in Boston three and a half years now, and finally I feel like I am a bit at home. It takes a long time sometimes to settle in and make new friends...I never really realized that growing up in the same places with the same people all my life. Doing the bi-coastal sort of thing has been a good thing...it's shaken me up, exposed me...helped me with geography.

The wedding tomorrow. Suddenly we have six people sharing this suite tomorrow night. Talk about reverting suddenly to high school days...what a kick. Should be a raucous fun time.

I've been teasing Nicole all day...how she says my apartment (not that small) is the size of her kitchen in her house in Wisconsin. Wow.


11:55 PM | link | up| archives |

I'm not reallyGoth?

I do wear a lot of black. But today that is entirely not true! I'm wearing white...and blue...and any Goth worth their salt would be mortified. I'm too old to have fallen into the Goth category...but someone I know begs to differ.

I do worship Peter Murphy. But I don't really get into the Bauhaus, as much...and I actually haven't even heard Dali's Car before--although I keep meaning to. There is just something so amazingly sensual, lyrical, fluid and mesmerizing about Peter Murphy's music...

I mean really...when you find words like this:

"My mother loved it so she said
Sad eyed pearl and drop lips
Glancing pierce through writer man
Spoke hushed and frailing hips
Her old eyes skim in creasing lids
A tear falls as she describes
Approaching death with a yearning heart
With pride and no despise"
~"Marlene Deitrich's Favourite Poem"

or this:
"No way back to recall the way
Cause I threw out all the why's
Spinning with the spider in the cave
Found the scarlet thing in you
Where the birds can't reach
No words can teach
Spinning in the cave
For the scarlet thing in you

I saw you, you saw me

I saw you
You were the one
I saw you
You were one"
~"Scarlet Thing in You"

I mean really...can I ignore such poetic delight?

I've never really been Goth...even in my days of being a waver chick in the 80's...and I certainly have a long way to go before I become a Gothic Role Model.

So here I am, early, spouting some serious lack of wisdom. And it's down to random silliness now because I'm not caffeinated. I have a budget report due this AM. If I managed to get to sleep before midnight some night I think I would fall over in fascinated shock. Not that I haven't had good reasons to be up late, mind you, but on the other hand, maybe I should be thinking about napping sometime.

Margaritas tonight at the old haunt in Porter. Pitchers of margs!

Things that are good in the morning:
* Waking up with the kitty nose on your eyelids
* Driving to the Great Expectations soundtrack (Iggy and Tori on the same album!)
* Getting fuel for my car at "Gas with a Smile" *chortle*
* Successfully not waking up Niki as I'm getting ready this morning.



8:21 AM | link | up| archives |

8.3.2000

humid

Here with Niki, and it's hot outside and I'm showing her the wonders of blogger. She's making fun of my mouse trails on my cursor.

We're off to get food and probably margaritas...oo wait that's tomorrow...well at least something to drink. Mmmmm.



5:37 PM | link | up| archives |

china and sex and being hung over

So I'm at work, my belly not so happy with me, and talking to my friend Greg in China on yahoo messenger. It's 8:30 am here and 8:30 pm there (god i love technology). we're reminiscing about our past (known each other for eons now, it seems...since I was what, 16?). we're chatting about toys and stories we know of people getting caught with toys in funny situations...

I got drunk for the first time with Greg and his then lover, Jerry. I had come back from college (yeah yeah started late with the drinking) for Thanksgiving and the three of us, all dirt poor, went down to the grocery store (god i miss that...buying wine and beer in the grocery store) and bought several bottles of Boone's Strawberry Hill. We went back to their cute apartment that they shared with some guy that I remember I liked a lot (also of flaming origins) named Josh. And got very drunk and sappy and silly. Greg is a lightweight...one beer and he's nearly toast, which has always created a lot of silliness for those of us drinking with him that aren't quite drunk yet.

It's gingerale for me this morning.

And then Niki rolls into town this afternoon. Niki who lives in Wisconsin now (i'm still trying to figure that one out) in her dream house with her new husband. She's coming, sans husband, to hang out till Sunday...but we're piling into the car on Saturday with our friend AJ and meeting up with Jack and going to Franklin (another fun task...figuring out where that is) for a wedding...for Neil...the guy who gave me my freak magnet status. The four of us are sharing a room...not because we need to, but because we can. Should be a fun silly girly slumber party.

Romeo will be, yet again, grumpy with me for abandoning his kitty self.


8:38 AM | link | up| archives |

8.2.2000

tipsy but freakless

so no freaks tonight. just normal people (normal is mostly good in my book these days). at every single show or networking thingy, my dear friend and ex-boss, Neil, has dubbed me a "freak-magnet." At the end of every night I usually have kisses on the hand, hotel room phone numbers or invitations of some sort. The worst part is that I rarely meet the non-freaks, go figure. I did have an invite for drinks after the event--I should have gone and I didn't...should I be kicking myself? or just glad to be home with my very obnoxious needy kitty? Oh but that kitty is a witty, love me sort of friend. How can I resist those damn big blue eyes? Still, I wonder.

and what's up with the new nerve.com format? I think I'm confused in my slightly tipsy state. Then again, I'm mostly confused in my non-slightly tipsy state...




11:41 PM | link | up| archives |

ask and ye shall receive

Seriously. Just ask Him. Him.

My mom would be proud of me.

4:59 PM | link | up| archives |

free beer! free wine!

Soon to be mine! little lush that I am. Heading to the MIMC cyberbrew cruise. 500 people on a boat in the sticky haze. me, 9 coworkers, lots of business cards. reasons why marketing is cool (probably much to the chagrin of someone I know who thinks marketing sucks...chuckle). I love my job. I love meeting people. I love meeting people in silly drunken places like boats. Except when they are too silly and drunken and acting like a neanderthal...and far too smitten with me--then I don't like to be on boats. I would much prefer an escape route. The worst part is that the drunken neanderthals are always boring financial types with pot bellies and mustaches and wedding rings. Eww.

So I spent last night on the cape, doing things that were mildly more exciting than watching ally mcbeal reruns. And I remember that I really love the cape, not the tourist bits, but the beach, the charming houses, the winding roads, the sleepy feel. I look forward to every single visit, no matter how short, no matter how mundane, no matter what the weather.



4:54 PM | link | up| archives |

sticker shock

It wasn't the sticky, mind-numbing heat haze that enveloped me as I walked back from my quick trek to the art store. It wasn't the fact that I haven't eaten all day and am working mostly on the jitter of a triple mocha. No, the faint swept over me after I realized how much money that I have spent for a mere five class oil painting foray. $185 on supplies!!!!!!!!!!!!!! No wonder artists are mostly poor...how on earth do they afford all the oils? Some of the tubes were near $20. I hope to god that I am painting something more interesting than fruit. Watch...they'll probably make me paint something inane like my shoe.



1:21 PM | link | up| archives |

8.1.2000

playing with uranium

"I just want to feel safe in my own skin, I just want to be happy again, I just want to feel deep in my own world" ~Dido

Great things about a 200 cd changer--suddenly you discover that you own a Pet Shop Boys best of compilation. Cool.

So I did the driving. But the wonderful thing about driving when there is no rain or there are spaces where there aren't nutty drivers...is the meditative place it puts me in. Yesterday, driving down 495, with the light low from the clouds, I fell into that sort of spot...it's almost a state of hyper-awareness rather than meditation. Aware of everything, the way the light slides through the trees, the blinking of red tail lights, the clear whiteness of the overcast sky ahead of you, parting the way with the road. It's very calming, and rare to find that spot. I like those moments of awareness, where you aren't really thinking, but rather, being. When you can see how beautiful, how near symmetrical, how aligned the world seems to be.

Fax machines fascinate me. They always have...not sure why. So I have jfax now, so that I can receive faxes in my email... (702) 975-6557 if you are so inclined. The documents arrive in a .tiff file in my email box. Wow. But plain paper faxes are more amazing to me...how the words translate themselves onto paper across a phone line. I know...the technology is fairly simple...it's been explained to me many many times, but it doesn't matter. I'm still amazed. It's like magic. Press a button and *poof* there your document is, thousands of miles away. Wow. Wow.

And what a whacked out word that is...Wow. It's one of those words that the longer you look at it, the more strange it becomes.

Oh it's bad when I start tangents like that...I realize that I am not caffeinated. Bad crystal...bad.





1:45 PM | link | up| archives |

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