10.31.2001
i've
got a fang! I've got a fang.
9:54 PM | link | up| archives |
major linkage
today...of places that have caught my eye today. Yes, yes, boring temp job.
First off, Happy All Hallows Eve! And for more information about the origins of Samhain, head here. And if you want a Tarot reading to boost your spirit, head to Salem Tarot, a site owned by Sandra, who hops in and comments on my ramblings here from time to time.
The Mirror Project ~ I can get lost on this site for hours.
Exploding Dog ~ This site always makes me smile, and think, and smile.
A reality check ~courtesy of Open Sewer. An article that echoes many of my sentiments. Sorry but the site of Bushy tossing out the pitch last night ticked me off more than it made me proud (tired of people rallying around him thinking he's kick-ass when in reality he has not proven so (ever listen to him when he is NOT reading scripted material??)...but the attacks forced our nation into turning toward the only inadequate leader that we have). It was a decent pitch though, one of the few things that I suppose the man is good at. Don't get me wrong, I love my country, but the terrible attacks of 9-11 don't turn an half-incompetent, vote-fixed president into a top-notch leader overnight, contrary to what many Americans seem to think. Okay I'll shut up now. And no, I won't respond to flame-mail on the subject.
12:53 PM | link | up| archives |
10.29.2001
today
i have the hiccups. Twice thus far today actually. Unsure why...both times it was for apparently no reason. The first time I was sitting at my desk, not even eating or drinking. The second time I was walking down the hallway. Who knows.
I remember when I was little and I would get the hiccups and I would hold them in and not let the sound out. The noise it made inside my head and ears was a funny one and I used to call them "getting the lion roars." Yes, I was an imaginative child.
I discovered the strangest hiccup site while I was searching for a cure. Clicking through the links I came across the stories about hiccups...then I realized that this was actually a fetish site, for people who get horny from hearing or having the hiccups. It had NEVER occurred to me that anyone could get excited about the hiccups, or be turned on by other people with them. I mean, I suppose that to some guy it might be a little cute when his gal starts making tiny noises, but wow...
Maybe there are some things in this world I'm better off not knowing.
2:35 PM | link | up| archives |
10.27.2001
the pressure
is on. Trying to finish up my essays for grad school. It's been AGES since I've written an essay and reverting back to that style has been a serious challenge. Received some great feedback on my Homer/Tolkein essay from Ancarett (thanks!) and tomorrow Mike is going to hack and slash. I wrote my personal essay tonight...and I'm not sure what to think about it. I feel so out there, unsure of what they are looking for. Then again, how can they not want me? *grin* I would kick butt in their program. Sending it all out on Monday.
Thanks to Payman and Neil for writing letters of recommend. Great guys that I have been extra fortunate to work for along the way. My third letter is from a professor of mine from when I went to Whitworth...wow. I was shocked that after 8 years he remembered me so well. His letter of recommend blew me out of the water...he spoke so highly of me that I became very sentimental, choked up and amazed...and excited. What a boost of confidence in returning to school! He pretty much told them that if they accept me that they can expect me to be in the top 5% of the class...grin, he was always one who never let me live below what I was capable of doing. He knew that by raising the bar for me I would reach up for the challenge. I managed an A on my first paper for him, for Dr. Death, as the rest of my classmates called him, because he never gave A's. That did it...from then on he KNEW what I was capable of and as a rowdy, exploring college student, I definitely paid the price when I slept in, was late with papers or goofed off. I wish now that I hadn't...that I had applied myself even more than I did back then. I loved those classes, Shakespeare especially, and I can say without a shadow of a doubt that he was a man who changed the way that I thought about life, about literature and about writing. All of my English professors did...absolutely amazing group of people that I somehow feel I've let down in the last few years.
I know that's not actually true. I didn't let them down. I let ME down. Not anymore. I type 90wpm and it's time I started using that talent for something other than video games. *grin*
8:10 PM | link | up| archives |
10.26.2001
things that amaze me
~ the same day it snowed for Niki, it was 81 degrees here.
~ how VH1 Radio's Altern80s station is pretty cool (Sonicnet eradicated my station, sigh)...giving me songs I haven't heard in AGES...Sisters of Mercy, Art of Noise, Oingo Boingo, The Nails, Naked Eyes, Gang of Four, a-ha, Alphaville, Flesh for Lulu, Q-Feel, Boom Crash Opera, Blancmange, and wow...even Frank Zappa's Valley Girl...fer sure! Like totally! So bitchin! Bag yer face! Barf me out! Gag me with a spoon! God...and I thought kids today were weird...I forgot what it was like when *I* was a teenager...grin.
~ how one wheelchair rider can hold up the Green Line for 45 minutes, preventing a massive backlog of riders waiting for trains during rush hour...a serious inadequacy of the MBTA
~ my kitty's morning ritual...after my shower, he sticks his paws under the door to try and open it. I open it, wait for 2 minutes while he stares at me, watch him slither in and shut the door again. He wanders around my feet, yells for me to pet him, which I do here and there while I get ready. He hangs out for about 20 minutes then sits at the door staring at it. Every morning, always the same.
~ that dogs howl when they hear sirens passing by.
~ the power of intuition
~ fax machines (yeah yeah, I know, but they amaze me)
~ that I'm related to someone with a mullet.
~ that anyone likes Jacko these days.
~ that this office (a downtown consulting company), of at least 100 people on this floor, is always so deadly quiet...especially on a Friday afternoon. It's bizarre.
~ how amazing really good chocolate tastes.
1:16 PM | link | up| archives |
10.24.2001
woot!
IQ of 151. Eat your heart out Mike.
11:46 AM | link | up| archives |
dream a little
dream and that's what I did last night. I dreamt that I was trying to find my way home or to my boy somewhere. I was outdoors and it had snowed in the last few days and the trail that I was following was basically packed snow. I was in the woods and it was sunny outside, no leaves on the trees. It was as though I was in a big park, a place similar to the Fells right outside of Boston...remote but you will run into people along the trails. I asked a man who was near which way to go. He pointed down a snow covered trail and said, "That way. But I'll go with you." I ran ahead of him and he followed. The snow was packed down a bit but I know that he came with me because I was afraid of losing the trail in the snow. Eventually we came to a huge ravine. Instead of a bridge there was a long, handmade, wood-hewn ladder made from fallen logs. You crossed by stepping on the rungs. It was narrower at the ends and wide in the middle. On the other side, the ravine had been shored up by a series of logs fixed much like you would see in a log cabin. He crossed ahead of me and I followed, jumping from rung to rung. When I had almost reached the other side, the ladder started to slide and I realized that I was going to fall. I then looked down and saw that it was a very deep and narrow ravine and that I would die if I fell. Just then I did that...started to fall, the ladder giving way beneath me. Instead of falling though, I managed to catch one of the logs that was bolstering the other side. I managed to hang on and climb along the side of the logs until I could reach the top...all the while still in a bit of peril. At the top of the logs more people had gathered and a young woman was there telling me where to step and encouraging me. She helped me climb over them and the long metal rail that was lining the trail at the top. When I was on firm ground once more, brushing the snow off my clothes, she looked at me and said, "See you can make miracles happen."
Wow. Suddenly I feel a whole lot better about my life.
9:41 AM | link | up| archives |
10.22.2001
little flights
of fancy always overtake me. I move from one slight obsession to another. Now it's Sonicnet.com, and my own radiostation. If you want to listen to my station you'll get a sense of my eclectic tastes. It's great to listen to while I'm at work plugging away at the boring data entry that I've been doing the last two weeks at my silly temp job. What I love about it is that I don't have to do lots of uploading...their music catalog is pretty comprehensive and if I don't like an artist I can push them down in the ranks of how often I want to hear them or remove them entirely. Or, just skip the song if I don't feel like hearing it. Pretty nifty. New link for it on the left.
10:42 PM | link | up| archives |
got to love
conjectures such as this one about Saddam Hussein at the NY Post. Interesting article.
Lots of sirens this morning in the downtown Boston area. I'm in a high-rise downtown...one that holds many financial companies. There is security but it wouldn't be very difficult to get through it. Actually it's rather frightening how easy it would be to bypass their little system of checking in. No, I don't handle any mail, however, which is a good thing. I have a friend who works at a mall in Providence and she said that their store was recently targeted for a scare by someone who sent them envelopes filled with white powder and was threatening to bomb the mall on Halloween. Was a pretty hectic and scary thing, understandably. I believe they caught the guy--some psycho that was taking advantage of the scares to add his own terror.
Our world has changed...or at least mine has.
9:34 AM | link | up| archives |
10.21.2001
finally
the paper is done and off to my little group of volunteer critics (thank you again btw!). Now I need to write the 1200 word entrance essay on why I want to head back to school. That will be easy peasy.
Aside from that, I blogged a nice long piece about Rt. 50 in Nevada...the loneliest road in America, but I fucked it up and am too frustrated to repost it. Gemini with little patience.
The wind is blowing madly tonight and I love the sound of it outside the window. Last year the people next door chopped the tree up a bit, thinning it out...I think they wanted to improve their view of the street. Unfortunately they improved MY view of the street and the apartments across the street, which I didn't actually want. I loved the extra privacy from the busy street...the sound the limbs made when the wind blew, the way the leaves changed color. The tree is still there but things just aren't as dramatic now when the wind blows...and the neighbors can see into my office where I spend 90% of my time.
I'm going to be starting an online literary journal with my friend Greg soon...trying to come up with good names for it, but have been so busy with the paper that I haven't been able to think much about it. I want to work on it over the next couple of months and debut it probably in January I'm thinking. We'll see. I'm excited about it...we want it to be upscale and edited for the finest quality materials...helps us to network and to keep us writing. It also looks great on a resume...the editing, and well, can't complain about a place for us to publish as well. :)
6:35 PM | link | up| archives |
10.20.2001
i'm reading
a really great book by Sonia Choquette called Your Heart's Desire. It's seriously one of the more amazing books that I have picked up in a long time...as far as self-help sorts of books go. She outlines basic "laws" of creative manifestation in order for you to help you discover what it is you really want in life, how to open yourself up to receive it and how to take steps to propel you into action. It sounds formulaic but this book is actually pretty different in that it is an interesting read and beyond that, it just plain makes sense.
It's about not making excuses. It's about not saying the word "but." It's about commiting to doing everything in your power to make your dream happen. As she says: "If it is important, really important, you will put your life in order and make it your priority."
What I really want in my life is to write and to find a way to make a career out of writing and my love for literature. I think that this might manifest itself in a variety of ways...maybe it will be as a writer, or in publishing, or perhaps teaching college. I'm not so concerned what that manifestation really is as much as I am looking to find happiness and success in finding a way to best utilize those talents. I know that I'm happiest when I am writing, when I am creating, when I am researching and thinking or when I am reading and talking about literary topics. I also know that I want to continue growing and enjoying that life with my partner as he creates his own, equally new paths for himself--and I know that I want to live with him in a quieter place outside the city, in a place that is our own.
These are my priorities in life. I am choosing to work very specifically toward those goals and achieve them. The first step is school...my Masters in English--both in Creative Writing and Lit. And then, I believe, my PhD, all the while writing, publishing, growing. The path of writing is a path that I was born to my entire life and I was always stepping away...but no more.
That said, I am finishing my paper today...the critical essay entitled: "From Beowulf to Tolkein--the Evolution of Epic Fantasy." As you can probably imagine, I am currently procrastinating on it...taking time to write here instead. Why? I have all the research done. In fact, I've even started the paper itself and am already two pages in to what should be a 5-7 page paper. I think that I am afraid. It's been a long time since I've written a critical essay and I worry that in some ways I have lost my touch. I'm scared that my eight years away from academic life has stifled me...perhaps in some ways made me more stupid and that in writing something like this it might just not be up to par with what other students may submit for entrance. And I am afraid that it won't be accepted and it will crush that dream of getting back to school.
One of the laws of creative manifestation as set out by Choquette is to honestly let go of whatever is blocking the way to your dream. In my case, I have fears of rejection, old habits of laziness and significant procrastination that stop me. I have clutter that surrounds me, and I let daily life happenings act as an excuse to prevent me from writing (i.e. I'm tired after work cos the subway was late so I don't want to...or my tummy feels sort of upset (but not really) and so I'll watch TV instead...or the boss said something unkind to me today so I don't feel like writing...or my friend's sadness about something in their life has made me sad so I don't feel like writing...).
No more procrastination. That paper will be done before this weekend is out. Ancarett, Greg, Paul...be on the lookout for it later today or tomorrow. I promise.
1:30 PM | link | up| archives |
10.19.2001
overheard
this morning while waiting in line at work for the security check:
"She's 99! But she has all her wits about her. And very active. She's in my dance class."
"No way!"
"And everytime I go to visit her she wants me to bring her bourbon. She has 2-3 bourbons on the rocks every night."
"I knew a guy that lived to be 102 and he smoked cigars and drank bourbon too."
"All the old people I know drink bourbon...must be a preservative!"
Chortle. So I guess I should switch my drink of choice? Nahhh can't let go of the amaretto...
3:56 PM | link | up| archives |
10.18.2001
the list
of what I plan to accomplish tonight.
dinner
squishing the kitty
critiquing the two poems that greg has sent me
writing at LEAST 2-3 more pages on my grad school entrance paper (I WILL BE DONE WITH IT THIS WEEK)
finishing up my nervousness.org exchanges I've been slacking on
3:55 PM | link | up| archives |
10.16.2001
so tonight
while drinking beers with a new coworker, i found out that the guy that I'm reporting to, and this is no surprise mind you, is a chauvinist asshole. The kind of guy that knows how to network the good ol' boy and who told my predecessor (who of course, he was too STUPID to realize that he was gay) that he was worried about when his 13 year old stepdaughter became 18 and all their friends were around the pool and he had a chubb that he couldn't hide. Ewww I get ill thinking about it. The thing is, he probably ALREADY has that same chubb NOW when he thinks about his daughter's friends. He even said that word! Chubb!!
Blech. So well, I know that to get him to think that I know my job and am doing it well that all I have to do is dress provacatively...not that I really care because it is only a temp job. The sad thing about it is that if I wanted this job all I would have to do is prove myself for another week and then flat out ask for it. I am making 1/4 of what I used to make and the guy is an idiot and the company is the epitome of the kind of company I'm not keen on working for...fucking bunch of consultants.
So I have about four beers in me and the boy just made me the most amazingly killer grilled cheese sandwich (with all sorts of yummy cheese...Irish Cheddar, some goat cheese and bits of exotic stuff that we had leftover). When I was a kid, I HATED grilled cheese sandwiches...no clue why. They are exactly the kind of thing that I would love, actually, bread and cheese!!! MMmmmmm. But for some reason I decided that the grilled kind were icky and awful. Plain cheese sandwiches were fine but grilled? Ewww.
Hehe, the boy had me pegged. "You had to be the contrarian, didn't you?" And well, I suppose I did.
9:49 PM | link | up| archives |
i don't
want to live in the city anymore. It's not just the fact that they removed all the trashcans from the subway stations, that there are military planes always flying overhead, security checks in all the buildings downtown, cops stationed on every corner...it's also basic corporate bullshit, the amazingly high rent that I pay ($1500 a month!), no jobs, horrid drivers and the fact that you can barely see the stars at night.
I want to live in a house again. Unlike the West coast, you can't easily rent houses in the city here so you are stuck with mult-family homes, townhouses and high-rise apartments. I want a bit of a yard...I want the option to own a dog if I so chose. I want a place where taking a walk wouldn't mean that I am crossing streets (avoiding horrid drivers, mind you) and smelling the exhaust of passing trucks. I want some garden. I want to be able to paint the rooms where I live. I want a room that is painted red! And I want a house with a red door.
I always used to think I would never own my own home. I never even WANTED to. I figured that I would be perfectly happy renting. I guess that I didn't want the responsibility...I didn't want to feel tied to one place. And now, I want a house, NOT because I'm tired of giving my money to some mean landlady (she raised the rent $300 this year...got to love the fact that they threw out the rent control)...it's more about wanting something that I can paint, can alter, can change in such a way to call my own. And beyond that, it's a reflection of where I am in my life...my god, for the first time I have found someone that I actually want to settle down with...to own a house with, to make that kind of commitment to. I didn't even have that when I was married!!!!
Then again, maybe I'm just getting old. I have to check the 30-35 box on questionnaires now, you know.
3:58 PM | link | up| archives |
10.13.2001
last weekend
in an antique store just across the Vermont border, I found a knife holder. It was wooden, with an old chipped red paint to it, and meant to hang flat on the wall, with slots in the block for about five knives. I think it was circa 1935-40 or so, and it had a cherubic child with blue overalls in a faded decal on the front. I think it used to be an advertisement for a particular product, but the words had faded. It cost $15.
I wish I had bought it. Not because I had any use for this silly thing. It wasn't pretty, it would really serve me very little function...I have a knife holder, after all. But it was fascinating all the same.
On the back, written in pencil, were three dates with names of people who had died next to them. They all died in 1947. Each of them had a different last name so I am unsure if they were related. Next to one of the names it said, "died in an accident."
I just keep wondering about this silly knife holder. What a bizarre place to write the names of dead people. Who wrote the names down? Who were the people that died? Why write them there rather than in a place like the family Bible, where people of that era might have traditionally kept such information.
And now I'm kicking myself for not buying that funny piece of wood. What a story it would tell me if I wrote it all down.
11:45 AM | link | up| archives |
10.11.2001
starting
to work full time again today. Not permanently, however...not the bona fide job I should have, but a full-time temporary job, doing data entry at a consulting company. Sigh. I suppose it gives me an in into the company but this is the sort of company I should be able to walk into and get a job that pays me what I should be getting...if I end up landing something full-time there it will now be for a serious chunk of money less than I would have made if I could have managed to get a job there directly. But it IS a job and any job is better than no job. Besides, this is merely a vehicle to get me the money that I need to head back to school...I need to remember that.
Sort of sad in a way, too...I was loving having five days off a week (I was temping two days a week). It was so great being able to go to the library at mid-day...heading to the store when I wanted, writing, playing video games, watching Springer (yes, yes, I am a few IQ points lower now than before I was laid off). But I'm back to 9-5 now, M-F, working downtown. I do like riding the subway and I love working downtown...but there is some trepidation of doing so during the war. Paranoia, yes, but not unfounded at least.
8:14 AM | link | up| archives |
10.9.2001
so i did
my good deed for the weekend...and even ended up rearranging an interview (with a temp agency) to do it. Not what I wanted to do, but it was the right thing to do. The Berkshires were lovely...just starting to burst into the really brilliant colors. Next weekend will be more lush and potent.
Next door to the boy's parents lives a 91-year-old widow, Mrs. O, who has lived there for as long as the boy can remember. She was having a problem with her email...she had contracted a virus and it was perpetuating itself in her email box, locking up her computer. I helped her fix it...which included the long download of virus software across a 28.8 modem. She is so computer challenged that she can't even figure out how to use the shift key to turn her caps on. She can open her mail and respond and that's essentially it. So we downloaded it...and the first day the computer went into sleep mode and shut it off so we had to download it again the second day (after I shut the sleep off). She was so grateful. She is a sweet woman with a 60 something year old son who is full of anger and idiocy and who yells at her a lot. I was glad he wasn't there--he's out of the country on vacation. She has a little flea ridden dog that keeps her company. The dog just came back from the vet (where she got the fleas) and she can't bend over very well so she had me help put the flea treatment on the dog. Wow! Flea treatments have come a long way since the last time I bathed my cat about 7 years ago. I put a little blue liquid on the dog's back, right between the shoulder blades. Apparently the fleas die and disappear within a day or two. She was so grateful that she is calling our state senators to see what they can do about finding me a job. Won't do a lot, I imagine, but I was so touched at the gesture. She wrote me last night, pecked out with small letters, telling me that I can tell the boy that my helping was "a partial payment for all the tape he put on the bottom of my table every day he used to come over [when he was little] and he and my beautiful dog named bow wow bow for short used to take their afternoon naps under the table and since he was the noisiest one in his family they all had a rest." Chuckle.
Spent time in Bennington, Vermont where we visited the war memorial there, the museum with all the Grandma Moses paintings, and we also went to the Chocolate Shack just south of Arlington, Vermont on 7A. Mmmm. And picked a pumpkin for later carving. It was a really wonderful time. Met the boy's uncle (but not the same uncle we were supposed to meet...a different one), had great food and great wine and picked leaves to send to one of the nervousness.org participants. Was truthfully a really wonderful, relaxing weekend. Oh, and we also picked up a beautiful antique cedar chest for a steal of $60. Lots more room to store clothes finally.
Now back to the stress of the job stuff, the temp stuff, the money stuff. Sigh.
11:49 AM | link | up| archives |
10.5.2001
i have
to thank those people who sent kind hugs and thoughts for me. Thank you thank you. Sandra, I hope that things pick up for you...isn't this time of year the busy season? Sigh, then again most people aren't traveling anywhere and I imagine that really hurts the whole town a great deal. *hugs back* You too Ancarett and Niki.
I'm traveling this weekend though. Heading back to the Berkshires for some fall color. Staying with the boy's parents again...meeting his aunt and uncle as well. I always look forward to going out there...they're such wonderful people. I always find peace and contentment in their home. It's such a nice feeling.
Have a great weekend everyone!
4:39 PM | link | up| archives |
10.4.2001
it just gets worse
Came home from temping pretty sad and depressed. Going to probably be doing oracle data entry full-time for crap money with some consulting company starting next week. I don't know what I'll do if it's something so amazingly mindless...it's hard to keep my spirits up these days. My friends are being laid off left and right, half of the cubers (see Superstars in my Me section) are not working. I feel awful for them...one of them has been laid off twice in the last couple of months. It's hard though...I was laid off on February 1...and here it is...October now and it's so hard to believe that me...with the experience that I have...can't find a job of some marginal worth. I've revamped my resume numerous times, with the help of HR professionals, headhunters, etc. I've tried creative tactics. I've gone in for maybe 5 interviews in twice as many months and each time I'm up against twenty other people with the same or better experience. I can't even apply for jobs that I'm overqualified for...they don't even give me a second glance. The temp agency loves me though...but doing that work is so heart-breaking...both in terms of the type of work I'm doing and the money that I'm making. My bill collectors are breathing down my neck. I know I'm not going to be making close to six figures like I nearly was before...but my god...I'd be happy if I could just snag 40k...just enough to pay the bills.
I hate that feeling...of being helpless and out of control. I hate feeling like I can't fucking hold my own. It's hard for me to understand why I can't find anything...I have excelled in everything I have put my hands on. I can write like a demon, I am the most personable creature you will meet, and I understand a myriad of industries and am a kick-ass marketer. And suddenly...here I am, ten months later...and I just can't understand what the hell is wrong with me.
I know I know it's the economy and everyone says it will only get worse before it gets better. I have so many friends that are just hanging on for dear life in their jobs. My friend Payman says that their company is hurting now...half of their clients were in the WTC. People are making cutbacks everywhere and that stupid fall hiring spree that supposedly happens every year just isn't happening.
I have to find some way to change my mindset...the temp stuff will bring in some money...the consulting data entry job will be more than the part-time wage I'm making now. It will be just barely enough to scrape by. I need to keep in mind that right now the focus should be on going back to school, doing that for myself to find a new avenue. That is my priority and any other job that I might be doing along the way is just a vehicle for me to get that. It's hard though...I place so much stock in my work and to be in a job that is hardly fulfilling is a difficult thing for me. It's not good when I have to be a clock-watcher.
Thank god that I am living with and am in love with the most supportive, amazing man I could imagine. Plus he's a hell of a lot better at figuring out the money thing than I am. I try so hard to be upbeat for his sake...it's hard not to feel like I'm a burden most of the time. I know he doesn't see it that way but my self-esteem is pretty much entirely down-trodden.
And so, I'm crying and sad and if you know of anyone in the Boston area that will hire me for a decent wage drop me an email. Marketing jobs preferred but hell, anything that pays more than $15 dollars an hour will have to do. And if you want to send hugs too...I sort of really need those now.
6:03 PM | link | up| archives |
10.2.2001
wicked headache
plagued me today...leftover from a wonderful dinner at eat, bottle of wine followed up by yummy champagne and chocolates from L.A. Burdick. Now THAT is heaven. Mmmm. Those are some of the most amazing bits of chocolate that I have ever had. If you are ever in Harvard Square, make sure you search out their little shop. All in all, it was a really wonderful evening, full of reminiscing over the past year together. It's the way all anniversaries should be.
Spent a lot of the day putting together my research for the critical essay that I'm doing to get into grad school. I have secured three people to write my letters of recommend and now I have to write the critical essay and a 1200 word essay about why I want to be in the English program. Deadline is Nov. 1 so that will give me plenty of time. I'm so anxious to be in that atmosphere again.
Today was tighty whitey day across the street. They string up a long clothesline between two houses, one up high and one lower...and hang all their laundry. Some days are sheets, some are assorted clothes, but today was the underwear. Three very large people live there and well, lets just say that I could wear some of that underwear as a skirt (ewwww) it's so big. Personally I can't imagine airing all that laundry out there on one of our city's busiest streets for everyone's viewing pleasure...but they apparently don't mind.
12:31 PM | link | up| archives |
10.1.2001
thank god
I have beauty and brains both...and am definitely smarter than Miss America with 8 out of 8 of these questions right.
5:41 PM | link | up| archives |
wow
I'm still in shock that one year has passed between the boy and I. It seems like yesterday but then again, it seems like we have always known each other. I won't bore you all with the mushy details (yes, they are very mushy), but suffice to say that it feels really good to be happy in love, confident about the future and feeling connected in ways I didn't even know I could feel connected.
That said, I need to confess that I'm obssessed with Nervous Industries and their LMAO (land mail art objects) projects. I can't WAIT to get things in the mail. The first project that should arrive in my mailbox in the next day or so is a hardcover, large-print book of Alice in Wonderland. I am to alter a few pages in any way I choose...writing, drawing, cutting, pasting... This is where the boy comes in, I think...to help me be more artsy than wordsy. He's a sculptor (gals, always good to find a man who is good with his hands!) and I love his creative bent in looking at things.
There are other projects that should be coming...shared journals, mix CDs, bits of art. I'm exchanging poetry via snail mail as we speak. I'm just so excited about having that feeling again...the one where I was four, waiting for the mailman to come to our house and drop the mail through the slot on the door. I remember the sun shining through the window and watching the dust (like that annoying baby in that Hi and Lois cartoon) filter downward in the light, waiting, waiting for the rustle of the mailman's bag on the stoop. Or waiting for the mail lady to drive by our house when I was older, sitting on the lawn looking down the street (we lived on a hill). When she would arrive and put the mail into our box, which was attached to a really bizarre wooden box structure painted yellow that my father created, I would run down the long gravel driveway, Cocoa dog at my heels, anxious to see what the mail would hold. A letter from my grandfather? Pictures from my penpal in Australia? There is that same sense of wonder, mystery about receiving something in my mailbox that doesn't require me to shell out money.
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