Showing posts with label eccentric. Show all posts
Showing posts with label eccentric. Show all posts
Wednesday, February 3, 2010
Poetry from Chaos
I have found that Chaos flings out the best little bits of odd poetry. The key is getting close enough to catch them without getting caught in the riptide.
Finders Keepers
Keep singing
keep playing
keep looking
right at me
not at me
into me
abandoned house
Broken shutters
battered siding
frame windows
Standing across
overgrown lot
only ghost
of a curtain
skeleton chair
crooked picture frame
Peering into
cobwebbed attic
of my soul
Picking through
dusty scraps
broken things
left behind
Spying sparkle
shiny thing
in some forgotten corner
Passing grin
across face
as though
already possessing
Lowering blinds
too late
Southern Martyr
2-3-10
Saturday, January 30, 2010
Snowtopia
Tonight I went for dinner and had the best Vegetable Patia this little old vegetarian has ever had the pleasure of eating. After dinner MyBigStupidHero & I tried to stop by McKays Used Books. We pulled into the parking lot and only saw 3 or 4 cars. They were parked close to the front (not around back in the Employee spaces), the inside lights were on, and I could see people wandering around inside. Hope burned brightly in my heart as we pulled close to the front doors. Unfortunately, there was a sign - they had closed at 6pm due to the Snowpocalypse of 2010.
I have to say that as we crept through the parking lot I was REALLY hoping that McKays was actually open and it was just that damn deserted. I rationalized that theory for a few moments by telling myself that people who buy, read, and sell used books are the only smart people I know and thusly A)All the idiots are out buying $150 worth of groceries that they probably already have in their cabinets at home and NOT looking for $25 worth of used books to keep them occupied in case of natural disaster. B)Those of us who would venture out onto the streets with idiots who forget how to drive every time the weather changes just to go to bookstores would be the best kind of people you could ever meet.
If McKays had been open and that deserted I think I would have thoroughly enjoyed meeting every single person in that store & probably would have looked to see what books they were getting. I imagine it would be like that time I went to see all 3 Lord of the Rings movies back to back. To be in a room with only people who truly want to do the exact same thing as you is an awesome experience. Alas, tonight was NOT one of those nights, but for a few fleeting moments in a snow encircled parking lot I believed in the possibility of it.
Tuesday, January 26, 2010
Conflicted
This whole "posting something every week even if it's tripe" experiment has really helped. If by help, you mean that I am posting things that under normal circumstances never see the light of day. I'm not sure how I feel about it. It's liberating. I jot things down now that I would have let slip quickly between my fingers before. Maybe that's good - maybe not. I kinda feel like some sort of Pro-literary fanatic at times - "Poetry starts at the moment of conception!" Then at the end of the day I've got a cardboard box full of inbred kittens.
All that is to say this: "Here's some more poetry! Awww, look at it - it's polydactyl."
Lost
I need to write something.
Come, help me think.
Can you find the words?
I seem to have lost them.
I was sitting right here!
I haven't moved all day.
Maybe they're caught in my hair
or lying curled in the folds of my skirt.
When I rise to search for them
they will roll under the couch
and next Tuesday my cat will speak eloquently.
southern martyr 1-26-10
Thursday, June 18, 2009
Epiphany
Did battle with the router demons once again. Dragon slain, gremlins banished, peace and the Interwebs restored to my wooded kingdom once again.
While perched atop a ladder in the middle of the woods with my itty bitty pink laptop balanced on one hand while ants crawled down my other arm from the router's power cord, I had a rare moment of clarity. I realized something that I've always known, yet seem to forget every time my heart is broken: I don't NEED anybody.
Yeah, I'm a Daddy's girl, and it was nice when Dad drove by on the four-wheeler and asked if I needed any help buying a new router. But I was able to tell him in all honesty that it didn't matter. I do use the internet to do work from home sometimes, but I could always wander down to my old house or even just drag a chair out under the tree in the middle of the woods where the router is and plug into the ethernet cable.
I've always been like that. Wood burning stove as the only source of heat? No problem! Wringer washer? Who cares! No television? I have books! I've always been independent. I've always been a bit weird. I've always been a bit of a hermit. Those things don't change and neither does the fact that it's nice to have someone around who can and will help you, but in the end if you can't do it yourself then you'd better not really NEED it or else you'll find yourself without it one day. Whether that something happens to be love, or running water, or the Interwebs, I've always been able to cope before and I haven't changed one bit.
Needs and wants are two different things altogether. I want the Interwebs so I went out and figured it out myself. If I want love I'll figure that out for myself too. Yeah, I miss what I had with The Geek, but if it's gone I can live without it...
While perched atop a ladder in the middle of the woods with my itty bitty pink laptop balanced on one hand while ants crawled down my other arm from the router's power cord, I had a rare moment of clarity. I realized something that I've always known, yet seem to forget every time my heart is broken: I don't NEED anybody.
Yeah, I'm a Daddy's girl, and it was nice when Dad drove by on the four-wheeler and asked if I needed any help buying a new router. But I was able to tell him in all honesty that it didn't matter. I do use the internet to do work from home sometimes, but I could always wander down to my old house or even just drag a chair out under the tree in the middle of the woods where the router is and plug into the ethernet cable.
I've always been like that. Wood burning stove as the only source of heat? No problem! Wringer washer? Who cares! No television? I have books! I've always been independent. I've always been a bit weird. I've always been a bit of a hermit. Those things don't change and neither does the fact that it's nice to have someone around who can and will help you, but in the end if you can't do it yourself then you'd better not really NEED it or else you'll find yourself without it one day. Whether that something happens to be love, or running water, or the Interwebs, I've always been able to cope before and I haven't changed one bit.
Needs and wants are two different things altogether. I want the Interwebs so I went out and figured it out myself. If I want love I'll figure that out for myself too. Yeah, I miss what I had with The Geek, but if it's gone I can live without it...
Tuesday, December 30, 2008
A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to 2009...
I have a "friend" going through a very tough time right now. They were very supportive of me when I was going through a very tough time. So I spent the evening talking to them and being supportive. I had called My Geek earlier in the evening to inform him of said supportive tough time talk. Geek is aware of said tough time and is also supportive though not as close to the friend and does not talk.
My Geek has a bit of a tough time this time of year also. I have a tough time this time of year. My mother has a tough time this time of year. And on December 29, 2008 they all intersected in a truly spectacular way.
My Geek had spent the entire evening working in the out of doors restoring the Interwebs to us by endlessly adjusting the routers which transfer a wireless internet signal between three houses and through the deep, dark, & panic inducing woods to our house. He did not check his voicemail to hear my explanation of the aforementioned tough time talk. He instead stumbled up through the woods to find a large truck idling in his driveway at 9:30pm. He proceeds to call me in a slight panic.
I, being a good and decent friend, have turned off my cell phone so as not to belittle nor interrupt aforementioned tough time talk. My Geek, who has a tough time this time of year, has been having nightmares recently. My Geek should not go without sleep, due to yet other more recent tough times. This along with prolonged physical exertion, probably a little low blood sugar, a dark and creepy wood, a monster truck idling in his driveway, his girlfriend nowhere to be found, not answering her phone AND a little extra emotional tough time of the year baggage thrown in for good measure and he proceeds to stalk through the woods panicked, calling & text messaging me for the next 20-30 minutes.
I, being a good and decent friend, am completely unaware of any of this. My friend finally assures me that he will be okay. I return satisfied of being a good and decent friend to my home only to find it empty. I pull out my phone to call MY Geek and see a voicemail notification. I check my voicemail. It sounds like something from The Blair Witch Project. It's My Geek out of breath, twigs snapping underfoot, asking where I am and what's wrong and what's that truck?! and then the message just cuts off mid sentence. I call him. He's out of breath. He's in the woods. He's mad. It is now 10pm. He hangs up on me.
I wander out of doors to meet him at the top of the trail and try to smooth things out or maybe start a fight. (Sometimes I try not to overthink these things and just go with what feels right in the moment, you know.) I reach the trail, in the dark, and am startled by what I think to be My Geek. However, this figure, though as tall as My Geek, is not agitated as My Geek would have been. This figure, I soon realize, is My Mother. We raise our arms in mutual bewilderment, like two mimes. My Geek stomps up the trail, passes between the two of us (still in prolonged shrugs like two sarcastic Greek statues), and then proceeds to stomp into the house and turn off all the lights.
My Mother turns to me, hugs me, hugs me again, hugs me a third time while slightly rocking me back & forth, and then announces at the top of her lungs...
"Happy Festivus!"
Indeed.
*All is well now. And I thank my lucky stars for my Geek, my friends (all five or six of you) and my family. I hope 2009 brings us all the best - and when it doesn't I'll remember why I love you all so much! Thank you all.
Thursday, November 6, 2008
Forgotten but Not Gone
I've been really frazzled & scattered & screwed up all summer. My writing has suffered, my personal life has suffered, and my poor neglected blog has suffered. But with fall slowly decaying around me I feel freshly inspired. I replied to MyBestestFriend's email today with the following message and I think it sums up how things are going for me right now:
"I’m not sure what the hell happened this afternoon… I think my muse might be back. He’s been lounging around just outside the corner of my eye, teasing me while I’m trying to work, and whispering wonderfully brazen ideas in my ear while I’m sleeping. I’m thinking of trying to lure him out into the open with coffee, absinthe, and an old typewriter."
I'm still really busy, however I have a sneaking suspicion that I'll be making the time to dabble with my favorite creative outlets very soon...
"I’m not sure what the hell happened this afternoon… I think my muse might be back. He’s been lounging around just outside the corner of my eye, teasing me while I’m trying to work, and whispering wonderfully brazen ideas in my ear while I’m sleeping. I’m thinking of trying to lure him out into the open with coffee, absinthe, and an old typewriter."
I'm still really busy, however I have a sneaking suspicion that I'll be making the time to dabble with my favorite creative outlets very soon...
Friday, January 25, 2008
Sometimes I Worry...
I don't talk about my family very much here at Southern Martyr. Partly because I don't think anything short of a Tennessee Williams-esque 2,000 page novel bound in the hand cured hide of one of my father's prize heifers (dead from natural causes, of course) could possibly begin to do my family justice. And then my Pregnant Best Friend forwards me brief a news story from Britain and I realize that I am not alone. There are others out there who will grow up cringing and laughing in equal parts to tell their own stories. One day I will meet one of them and we will sit and talk about how our parents were such wonderful, creative, loving, friendly, intelligent, free spirits who were merely misunderstood when discovered to be building that tree house with retractable ladder and pulley system/secret mock castle with cannon/basement mad scientist laboratory/full size tee pee made from old tent material/doors to nowhere.
I worry that a link to this article will eventually disappear leaving no reminder of this news story which made me think immediately of my own family life (not exactly the same, but similar enough in some ways to make me worry - just a little), so I copied and pasted the article verbatim:
Farmer hides castle from building inspectors
By Peter Apps Fri Jan 25, 7:45 AM ET
LONDON (Reuters) - A farmer built an entire mock castle behind a screen of hay bales and lived there concealed for four years to evade planning regulations, officials said on Friday -- but it may be torn down anyway.
Robert Fidler hopes to take advantage of a provision of planning law that allows buildings without planning permission to be declared legal if no objections have been made after four years.
But Reigate and Banstead Borough Council in Surrey is not impressed.
"It does not count because the property was hidden behind hay bales," said a spokeswoman. "No one knew it was there."
The council wants the building near Redhill some 30 km south of London to be demolished, along with an associated conservatory, marquee structure, wooden bridge, patio, decking and tarmac racecourse.
"It looks like a mock-Tudor house from the front and it's got two turrets at the back," the spokeswoman said. "I understand there is also a cannon."
The couple would have been unlikely to get planning permission as the farm was in "green belt" land where building was restricted, she said. A hearing takes place in February.
Fidler's wife Linda told the Daily Mail newspaper the children grew up looking at straw out of the windows of the house and that they kept their son away from playschool on the day his class were due to do paintings of their houses.
"We couldn't have him drawing a big blue haystack," she said. "People might ask questions."
Planning inspectors had been called to the site by concerned neighbours shortly before Fidler took the hay bales down in summer 2006 but had not seen the house.
"When the inspectors went there, all they saw was hay bales and hay bales on agricultural land are not that unusual," the spokeswoman said.
"I think the neighbours thought there might be something going on but it is difficult to tell, isn't it?"
(Editing by Steve Addison)
I'd been in the middle of writing another post when Pregnant Best Friend emailed me this story and I HAD to post it straightway. This has inspired me to do a little writing. I hope that my father doesn't read this and get any ideas.
Actually, I take that back. I've wanted my very own stone tower in the woods for a very long time...
I worry that a link to this article will eventually disappear leaving no reminder of this news story which made me think immediately of my own family life (not exactly the same, but similar enough in some ways to make me worry - just a little), so I copied and pasted the article verbatim:
Farmer hides castle from building inspectors
By Peter Apps Fri Jan 25, 7:45 AM ET
LONDON (Reuters) - A farmer built an entire mock castle behind a screen of hay bales and lived there concealed for four years to evade planning regulations, officials said on Friday -- but it may be torn down anyway.
Robert Fidler hopes to take advantage of a provision of planning law that allows buildings without planning permission to be declared legal if no objections have been made after four years.
But Reigate and Banstead Borough Council in Surrey is not impressed.
"It does not count because the property was hidden behind hay bales," said a spokeswoman. "No one knew it was there."
The council wants the building near Redhill some 30 km south of London to be demolished, along with an associated conservatory, marquee structure, wooden bridge, patio, decking and tarmac racecourse.
"It looks like a mock-Tudor house from the front and it's got two turrets at the back," the spokeswoman said. "I understand there is also a cannon."
The couple would have been unlikely to get planning permission as the farm was in "green belt" land where building was restricted, she said. A hearing takes place in February.
Fidler's wife Linda told the Daily Mail newspaper the children grew up looking at straw out of the windows of the house and that they kept their son away from playschool on the day his class were due to do paintings of their houses.
"We couldn't have him drawing a big blue haystack," she said. "People might ask questions."
Planning inspectors had been called to the site by concerned neighbours shortly before Fidler took the hay bales down in summer 2006 but had not seen the house.
"When the inspectors went there, all they saw was hay bales and hay bales on agricultural land are not that unusual," the spokeswoman said.
"I think the neighbours thought there might be something going on but it is difficult to tell, isn't it?"
(Editing by Steve Addison)
I'd been in the middle of writing another post when Pregnant Best Friend emailed me this story and I HAD to post it straightway. This has inspired me to do a little writing. I hope that my father doesn't read this and get any ideas.
Actually, I take that back. I've wanted my very own stone tower in the woods for a very long time...
Tuesday, November 20, 2007
My friends won't leave me alone!
Blog meme - Fifty questions.
1. When you looked at yourself in the mirror today, what was the first thing you thought?
“Gonna have to wear barrettes today…”
2. How much cash do you have on you?
$18 and lots of dimes for some reason.
3. What’s a word that rhymes with DOOR?
Roar.
4. Favorite planet?
Pluto. And there’s not a damn thing some smug, son of a bitch, scientist can do to change it!
5. Who is the 4th person on your missed call list on your cell phone?
Mom.
6. What is your favorite ring tone on your phone?
The one that sounds like an old rotary dial phone ringing. I can’t be bothered to have any of them new fangled music ringtones that those young whippersnappers use.
7. What shirt are you wearing?
Pink long sleeved blouse with vivid red, pink, blue, yellow, and green flowers embroidered on it.
8. Do you label yourself?
Probably, but not consciously. Do warning labels count?
9. Name the brand of the shoes you’re currently wearing?
American Eagle.
10. Bright or Dark Room?
Dark. Pitch Black if possible.
11. What do you think about the person who took this survey before you?
Diane is my best friend. I think she’s smart and brave and funny and has “issues.” One of those issues is a problem displaying or coping with deep emotion. “I love you Diane!” hahahahaha. Take that, bitch!
12. What does your watch look like?
What watch? What, do I have to be somewhere? Why are you always trying to “confine” me? Leave me alone!
13. What were you doing at midnight last night?
Sleeping quietly with my cat Jack.
14. What did your last text message you received on your cell say?
Night. I love you.
15. Where is your nearest 7-11?
ACTUAL 7-11? I think there’s one in Athens. We have a “corner store” (BP) in Riceville less than a mile from my house.
16. What's a word that you say a lot?
"Seriously” is MY word. My best friend answered this question with “Seriously,” but it’s MY word. It has been since High School. Seriously.
17. Who told you he/she loved you last?
My Hal.
18. Last furry thing you touched?
My kitty, Jack. I love him. We played tag under the closet door this morning while I was getting ready for work.
19. How many drugs have you done in the last three days?
None. Unless you count caffeine or hard liquor. In which case, I have had as follows: Two cups of coffee every morning, four cups of coffee at the board meeting Tues, and a shot(s) of SoCo the other night with some chocolate and a good book.
20. How many rolls of film do you need developed?
None. My Hal has a digital camera. We do have a ton of photos to get off memory sticks though.
21. Favorite age you have been so far?
Twenty-three.
22. Your worst enemy?
Real or imaginary? Just kidding. It’s my ex-husband.
23. What is your current desktop picture?
My black, long haired, Cycloptic kitty, Jack.
24. What was the last thing you said to someone?
”I’d do that for a hundred dollars.”
25. If you had to choose between a million bucks or to be able to fly what would it be?
A million bucks. There’s lots of stuff I CAN do and no time to enjoy it. A million bucks would go a long way towards enabling me to have the free time to enjoy the skills and dreams I have already.
26. Do you like someone?
Yes. Let’s see… 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6… hmm, 6 seems to be the limit of people I don't hate at the moment.
27. The last song you listened to?
”Lebanese Blonde” by Thievery Corporation.
28. What time of day were you born?
3:15pm
29. What’s your favorite number?
Seven.
30. Where did you live in 1987?
In Riceville, in the first house my father ever built. I had a door to Nowhere in my room. I was 11 years old.
31. Are you jealous of anyone?
I don’t think so. Diane would be the only person that might occasionally instill jealousy in me. As long as you can live vicariously through your friends the jealousy never seems to last but a moment... She may end up with a beautiful little baby, but the fact that I won’t have to shoot something bigger than a breadbox out of my body also serves to reassure me that I’m not missing out. I don’t see it as jealousy; I see it as forced perspective.
32. Is anyone jealous of you?
I don’t think so. Diane might be in about 71/2 months… and then again in about 13 years.
33. Where were you when 9/11 happened?
I was in my truck driving to work when I heard.
34. What do you do when vending machines steal your money?
Curse it, literally. You might not want to use the one outside the food court at Hamilton Place.
35. Do you consider yourself kind?
Yes. I am soft hearted, yet I hate people. When I’m kind to you (and I will be…very) I’m actually testing the phrase “kill them with kindness.” I have a theory about it being a culminative effect…
36. If you had to get a tattoo, where would it be?
The small of my back.
37. If you could be fluent in any other language, what would it be?
French. If this is just wishful thinking, then I would really like to learn Hindi but considering I can barely read French (and I took that class for 3 years) it will probably just stay wishful thinking…
38. Would you move for the person you loved?
Eh. Maybe. I’m melodramatic. I would probably just let them leave and then wither away from a broken heart.
39. Are you touchy feely?
Yes. Especially if I’m drunk or happy.
40. What’s your life motto?
When a dog runs at you, whistle for him – Henry David Thoreau
41. Name three things that you have on you at all times?
My silver Buddha charm, my cat ear cuff, and the memory of my dead brother.
42. What’s your favorite town/city?
The city of Agra in India. It is home to the Taj Mahal (the largest erection ever inspired by a woman).
43. What was the last thing you paid for with cash?
Sparkly colored bindis so I could play dress up with my friend Crystal’s little girl, Emily.
44. When was the last time you wrote a letter to someone on paper and mailed it?
Last year.
45. Can you change the oil on a car?
Yes. I can also hot wire a car, start a car that has a bad solenoid by shorting it out with a screwdriver, and I have been known to be able to jimmy the lock on my truck in under 1 minute.
46. Your first love: what is the last thing you heard about him/her?
Bipolar-Born Again Christian-homeless-alcoholic. Pretty sure most of that is my fault (especially since I cursed him). Well, all except the Bipolar part, that’s the reason he was my FIRST not my last. Amendment: Part of the credit/fault should go to a friend of mine. (she gets her nose out of joint if you don't acknowledge her help) Do you have any idea how hard it is to find a Catholic virgin to help you perform a hex?
47. How far back do you know about your ancestry?
I had a great uncle who did all that stuff all the way back to my Scotch-German ancestors who came over and fought in the Revolutionary War. To be quiet honest, I’m not having any children so I figure that a vague knowledge plus the family rumors I’ve gleaned over the years will be all I really want to know.
48. The last time you dressed fancy, what did you wear and why did you dress fancy?
Last week for my Best Friend’s hoity toity fund raiser at the Museum.
49. Does anything hurt on your body right now?
The arches of my feet ache a little from bellydance class.
50. Have you been burned by love?
Yes. By love, for love, same difference.
1. When you looked at yourself in the mirror today, what was the first thing you thought?
“Gonna have to wear barrettes today…”
2. How much cash do you have on you?
$18 and lots of dimes for some reason.
3. What’s a word that rhymes with DOOR?
Roar.
4. Favorite planet?
Pluto. And there’s not a damn thing some smug, son of a bitch, scientist can do to change it!
5. Who is the 4th person on your missed call list on your cell phone?
Mom.
6. What is your favorite ring tone on your phone?
The one that sounds like an old rotary dial phone ringing. I can’t be bothered to have any of them new fangled music ringtones that those young whippersnappers use.
7. What shirt are you wearing?
Pink long sleeved blouse with vivid red, pink, blue, yellow, and green flowers embroidered on it.
8. Do you label yourself?
Probably, but not consciously. Do warning labels count?
9. Name the brand of the shoes you’re currently wearing?
American Eagle.
10. Bright or Dark Room?
Dark. Pitch Black if possible.
11. What do you think about the person who took this survey before you?
Diane is my best friend. I think she’s smart and brave and funny and has “issues.” One of those issues is a problem displaying or coping with deep emotion. “I love you Diane!” hahahahaha. Take that, bitch!
12. What does your watch look like?
What watch? What, do I have to be somewhere? Why are you always trying to “confine” me? Leave me alone!
13. What were you doing at midnight last night?
Sleeping quietly with my cat Jack.
14. What did your last text message you received on your cell say?
Night. I love you.
15. Where is your nearest 7-11?
ACTUAL 7-11? I think there’s one in Athens. We have a “corner store” (BP) in Riceville less than a mile from my house.
16. What's a word that you say a lot?
"Seriously” is MY word. My best friend answered this question with “Seriously,” but it’s MY word. It has been since High School. Seriously.
17. Who told you he/she loved you last?
My Hal.
18. Last furry thing you touched?
My kitty, Jack. I love him. We played tag under the closet door this morning while I was getting ready for work.
19. How many drugs have you done in the last three days?
None. Unless you count caffeine or hard liquor. In which case, I have had as follows: Two cups of coffee every morning, four cups of coffee at the board meeting Tues, and a shot(s) of SoCo the other night with some chocolate and a good book.
20. How many rolls of film do you need developed?
None. My Hal has a digital camera. We do have a ton of photos to get off memory sticks though.
21. Favorite age you have been so far?
Twenty-three.
22. Your worst enemy?
Real or imaginary? Just kidding. It’s my ex-husband.
23. What is your current desktop picture?
My black, long haired, Cycloptic kitty, Jack.
24. What was the last thing you said to someone?
”I’d do that for a hundred dollars.”
25. If you had to choose between a million bucks or to be able to fly what would it be?
A million bucks. There’s lots of stuff I CAN do and no time to enjoy it. A million bucks would go a long way towards enabling me to have the free time to enjoy the skills and dreams I have already.
26. Do you like someone?
Yes. Let’s see… 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6… hmm, 6 seems to be the limit of people I don't hate at the moment.
27. The last song you listened to?
”Lebanese Blonde” by Thievery Corporation.
28. What time of day were you born?
3:15pm
29. What’s your favorite number?
Seven.
30. Where did you live in 1987?
In Riceville, in the first house my father ever built. I had a door to Nowhere in my room. I was 11 years old.
31. Are you jealous of anyone?
I don’t think so. Diane would be the only person that might occasionally instill jealousy in me. As long as you can live vicariously through your friends the jealousy never seems to last but a moment... She may end up with a beautiful little baby, but the fact that I won’t have to shoot something bigger than a breadbox out of my body also serves to reassure me that I’m not missing out. I don’t see it as jealousy; I see it as forced perspective.
32. Is anyone jealous of you?
I don’t think so. Diane might be in about 71/2 months… and then again in about 13 years.
33. Where were you when 9/11 happened?
I was in my truck driving to work when I heard.
34. What do you do when vending machines steal your money?
Curse it, literally. You might not want to use the one outside the food court at Hamilton Place.
35. Do you consider yourself kind?
Yes. I am soft hearted, yet I hate people. When I’m kind to you (and I will be…very) I’m actually testing the phrase “kill them with kindness.” I have a theory about it being a culminative effect…
36. If you had to get a tattoo, where would it be?
The small of my back.
37. If you could be fluent in any other language, what would it be?
French. If this is just wishful thinking, then I would really like to learn Hindi but considering I can barely read French (and I took that class for 3 years) it will probably just stay wishful thinking…
38. Would you move for the person you loved?
Eh. Maybe. I’m melodramatic. I would probably just let them leave and then wither away from a broken heart.
39. Are you touchy feely?
Yes. Especially if I’m drunk or happy.
40. What’s your life motto?
When a dog runs at you, whistle for him – Henry David Thoreau
41. Name three things that you have on you at all times?
My silver Buddha charm, my cat ear cuff, and the memory of my dead brother.
42. What’s your favorite town/city?
The city of Agra in India. It is home to the Taj Mahal (the largest erection ever inspired by a woman).
43. What was the last thing you paid for with cash?
Sparkly colored bindis so I could play dress up with my friend Crystal’s little girl, Emily.
44. When was the last time you wrote a letter to someone on paper and mailed it?
Last year.
45. Can you change the oil on a car?
Yes. I can also hot wire a car, start a car that has a bad solenoid by shorting it out with a screwdriver, and I have been known to be able to jimmy the lock on my truck in under 1 minute.
46. Your first love: what is the last thing you heard about him/her?
Bipolar-Born Again Christian-homeless-alcoholic. Pretty sure most of that is my fault (especially since I cursed him). Well, all except the Bipolar part, that’s the reason he was my FIRST not my last. Amendment: Part of the credit/fault should go to a friend of mine. (she gets her nose out of joint if you don't acknowledge her help) Do you have any idea how hard it is to find a Catholic virgin to help you perform a hex?
47. How far back do you know about your ancestry?
I had a great uncle who did all that stuff all the way back to my Scotch-German ancestors who came over and fought in the Revolutionary War. To be quiet honest, I’m not having any children so I figure that a vague knowledge plus the family rumors I’ve gleaned over the years will be all I really want to know.
48. The last time you dressed fancy, what did you wear and why did you dress fancy?
Last week for my Best Friend’s hoity toity fund raiser at the Museum.
49. Does anything hurt on your body right now?
The arches of my feet ache a little from bellydance class.
50. Have you been burned by love?
Yes. By love, for love, same difference.
Friday, November 16, 2007
My friends ARE more important than my work - REALLY.
Quite a while ago I was tagged with a request to tell a little something about a good friend of mine on his blog. Now, I've been REALLY crazily busy at work and the holidays make my head implode, so I was really ashamed that I did not even realize I had been tagged until this past Monday (nigh on a two weeks since I was originally tagged). This friend was none other than MyBigStupidHero. I posted my brief bit of intimate information in the comments of his post, however I have since been riddled with guilt at the fact that the piddly ass every day crap in my life had reduced me to ignoring my friends' ramblings. I have spent the last little bit of my lunch poking around the interweb catching up with my friend's lives. I am making myself get off my ass and spend some time with them also. Tonight I am going over to my friend Crystal's house and playing dress up with her 3 1/2 year old - Emily. I even bought sparkly little bindis for her to wear since she liked mine so much the last time we were out. ANYWAY... the point of this long diatribe is that I've let my life eclipse MY LIFE. And I'm done. No more!
I am including in this post my observations on MyBigStupidHero as well as two of my favorite memories of him. Here they are - Nothing fancy, just me recalling somethings that still make me smile and/or cringe:
Observations on my friend Big Stupid Tommy:
Tommy IS a giant.
Should it ever come down to Tommy in his underwear throwing boulders from a hilltop versus villagers with torches and pitchforks Tommy would win. Hands down. Every time.
Tommy is NOT stupid.
Tommy is probably the smartest man I know.
He is intelligent, well read, and a joy to talk with.
Now for some quirks which always make me smile:
Upon being handed a book Tommy will open it up and smell it.
Tommy HATES red licorice.
Tommy dives into water like a grizzly bear.
Tommy performs a very nice underwater handstand.
Tommy has slept sitting upright in a chair.
Tommy does not use straws.
Tommy’s kill command is “Fennel.”
Tommy will tolerate Diane and myself when anyone else would run away screaming with bleeding ear drums or collapse into a catatonic stupor.
And though this will undoubtedly embarrass him… I have always thought that with his kind heart, wonderful wit, boundless loyalty, and quiet demeanor he has an air of the romantic hero about him.
My friend Tommy.
I took way too long to find out I’d been tagged with this request to share a little of my insight into the Big Stupid which is Tommy. I apologize for the delay. I will attempt to make amends by sharing things that others may not know about our mutual friend. For those of you who have never had the pleasure of meeting the Tommy in person let me say Big Stupid Tommy is an impressive man. He stands well over 6’ tall and is a very reassuring presence to have on your side in dark alleys or impromptu wrestling matches. I would like to share two stories to illustrate this fact and illuminate a little of the personality which is Big Stupid Tommy:
One time, long ago on a very drunken night at a Con in Atlanta (I don’t remember which one) our good friend Tommy had paid for the hotel room with his credit card and then we had all pitched in cash to repay him. Sometime during the evening it came to our attention from the front desk that our room had to pay a very small amount either to make a phone call or to pay for a call or something… Anyway, Thomas explains politely over the phone that they have his credit card information on file, just add this expense to the bill. The dumbass at the front desk says “We can’t do that.” Thomas tries gallantly to explain the concept of room billing and the magical properties of credit cards, but alas the front desk insists that cash in an amount of less than $3.00 is required of our Big Stupid friend. Thomas then proceeds to gather the exact amount required in the form of loose change procured from the various inhabitants of our room. Our esteemed friend then pours all the change into a sock (yes my friends - a sock, which may or may not have been clean) and ventures down to the front desk to pay his fee. I, of course am dying to see what happens and request to go with him. He, being ever the gentleman, allows me to accompany him, even though I am thoroughly intoxicated and a bit of a hindrance at this point. We arrive at the front desk and to my delight Thomas dumps the change out of the mens sports sock and onto the counter in front of the stunned clerk. I was too delighted by this in my inebriated state to notice all the nuances that occurred, but I do remember the look of embarrassed horror and slight fear on the desk clerk. I believe there had to be another clerk brought from the backroom and it seems to my memory that Tommy loomed over the counter until they had counted every last smelly penny and nickel. He then turned and regally departed for the elevator. I am loving every moment of this spectacle to the point I believe I even bounced up and down and clapped my hands (I am known to do this when drunk) However, when the elevator reaches our floor and the doors swing open they reveal to my utter horror that we are BETWEEN floors! Now it wasn’t like the hallway floor was beyond our reach or that we could see duct work and wiring, but there was distinctly a large amount of space that one should NOT be able to see when one arrives at their floor. I froze. I was terrified. Every movie I’ve ever seen that involved elevators flashed through my drunken mind. I turn stuttering to my Big Stupid Hero. He doesn’t not let me down. He simply says “Yeah, I know. That’s weird, let’s just get out.” I’m not sure, but I think I made him hold my hand as I stepped UP into the hotel hallway. Now granted, I was drunk, and I am me, so things seem more drastic than they are sometimes, but that is one of the many times I have been thankful to have Thomas as my friend, by my side.
Now for the flip side of having Big Stupid Tommy as a personal friend:
Once, long ago, on a summer afternoon at my place of employment our hero Thomas was busy doing some freelance work (I think he was helping me clean out the storage room - for a fee) Now on this particular day there were two small kittens running amuck in our office. (Don’t ask. It’s enough to know that there were two small kittens.) We turned our backs for a few minutes and found that one of the little furballs had squeezed back behind the large metal heat and air contraption in the corner of the room. I could see it. I could touch it with my fingertips. I went to pull the little booger out and realized to my sickening horror that my arm was stuck. Now, you have to realize this all happened very quickly… My arm is pinned behind a huge piece of metal work. I am sitting crouched on the floor panicking. I look up and see my Big Stupid Hero standing over me looking quizzical. I reach my arm out towards him and say “Help me! I’m stuck!” Then in a flash I see Thomas as a looming giant, his large hand reaching towards me ready to swallow my shaking fingers in his vice-like grip. I am now frantic. All I can picture is one good tug from him popping my arm right off my shoulder. I can actually see him standing above me puzzledly looking at my disembodied arm held in front of him as I scream in pain and then faint dead away. Suddenly I am giggling up at him and stammering “No! No! It’s alright! I’ll get out. Really. Don’t touch me!” I manage to free myself clumsily and after great frantic effort, but that feeling of absolute panic and vulnerability still creeps into my nightmares some nights.
I am including in this post my observations on MyBigStupidHero as well as two of my favorite memories of him. Here they are - Nothing fancy, just me recalling somethings that still make me smile and/or cringe:
Observations on my friend Big Stupid Tommy:
Tommy IS a giant.
Should it ever come down to Tommy in his underwear throwing boulders from a hilltop versus villagers with torches and pitchforks Tommy would win. Hands down. Every time.
Tommy is NOT stupid.
Tommy is probably the smartest man I know.
He is intelligent, well read, and a joy to talk with.
Now for some quirks which always make me smile:
Upon being handed a book Tommy will open it up and smell it.
Tommy HATES red licorice.
Tommy dives into water like a grizzly bear.
Tommy performs a very nice underwater handstand.
Tommy has slept sitting upright in a chair.
Tommy does not use straws.
Tommy’s kill command is “Fennel.”
Tommy will tolerate Diane and myself when anyone else would run away screaming with bleeding ear drums or collapse into a catatonic stupor.
And though this will undoubtedly embarrass him… I have always thought that with his kind heart, wonderful wit, boundless loyalty, and quiet demeanor he has an air of the romantic hero about him.
My friend Tommy.
I took way too long to find out I’d been tagged with this request to share a little of my insight into the Big Stupid which is Tommy. I apologize for the delay. I will attempt to make amends by sharing things that others may not know about our mutual friend. For those of you who have never had the pleasure of meeting the Tommy in person let me say Big Stupid Tommy is an impressive man. He stands well over 6’ tall and is a very reassuring presence to have on your side in dark alleys or impromptu wrestling matches. I would like to share two stories to illustrate this fact and illuminate a little of the personality which is Big Stupid Tommy:
One time, long ago on a very drunken night at a Con in Atlanta (I don’t remember which one) our good friend Tommy had paid for the hotel room with his credit card and then we had all pitched in cash to repay him. Sometime during the evening it came to our attention from the front desk that our room had to pay a very small amount either to make a phone call or to pay for a call or something… Anyway, Thomas explains politely over the phone that they have his credit card information on file, just add this expense to the bill. The dumbass at the front desk says “We can’t do that.” Thomas tries gallantly to explain the concept of room billing and the magical properties of credit cards, but alas the front desk insists that cash in an amount of less than $3.00 is required of our Big Stupid friend. Thomas then proceeds to gather the exact amount required in the form of loose change procured from the various inhabitants of our room. Our esteemed friend then pours all the change into a sock (yes my friends - a sock, which may or may not have been clean) and ventures down to the front desk to pay his fee. I, of course am dying to see what happens and request to go with him. He, being ever the gentleman, allows me to accompany him, even though I am thoroughly intoxicated and a bit of a hindrance at this point. We arrive at the front desk and to my delight Thomas dumps the change out of the mens sports sock and onto the counter in front of the stunned clerk. I was too delighted by this in my inebriated state to notice all the nuances that occurred, but I do remember the look of embarrassed horror and slight fear on the desk clerk. I believe there had to be another clerk brought from the backroom and it seems to my memory that Tommy loomed over the counter until they had counted every last smelly penny and nickel. He then turned and regally departed for the elevator. I am loving every moment of this spectacle to the point I believe I even bounced up and down and clapped my hands (I am known to do this when drunk) However, when the elevator reaches our floor and the doors swing open they reveal to my utter horror that we are BETWEEN floors! Now it wasn’t like the hallway floor was beyond our reach or that we could see duct work and wiring, but there was distinctly a large amount of space that one should NOT be able to see when one arrives at their floor. I froze. I was terrified. Every movie I’ve ever seen that involved elevators flashed through my drunken mind. I turn stuttering to my Big Stupid Hero. He doesn’t not let me down. He simply says “Yeah, I know. That’s weird, let’s just get out.” I’m not sure, but I think I made him hold my hand as I stepped UP into the hotel hallway. Now granted, I was drunk, and I am me, so things seem more drastic than they are sometimes, but that is one of the many times I have been thankful to have Thomas as my friend, by my side.
Now for the flip side of having Big Stupid Tommy as a personal friend:
Once, long ago, on a summer afternoon at my place of employment our hero Thomas was busy doing some freelance work (I think he was helping me clean out the storage room - for a fee) Now on this particular day there were two small kittens running amuck in our office. (Don’t ask. It’s enough to know that there were two small kittens.) We turned our backs for a few minutes and found that one of the little furballs had squeezed back behind the large metal heat and air contraption in the corner of the room. I could see it. I could touch it with my fingertips. I went to pull the little booger out and realized to my sickening horror that my arm was stuck. Now, you have to realize this all happened very quickly… My arm is pinned behind a huge piece of metal work. I am sitting crouched on the floor panicking. I look up and see my Big Stupid Hero standing over me looking quizzical. I reach my arm out towards him and say “Help me! I’m stuck!” Then in a flash I see Thomas as a looming giant, his large hand reaching towards me ready to swallow my shaking fingers in his vice-like grip. I am now frantic. All I can picture is one good tug from him popping my arm right off my shoulder. I can actually see him standing above me puzzledly looking at my disembodied arm held in front of him as I scream in pain and then faint dead away. Suddenly I am giggling up at him and stammering “No! No! It’s alright! I’ll get out. Really. Don’t touch me!” I manage to free myself clumsily and after great frantic effort, but that feeling of absolute panic and vulnerability still creeps into my nightmares some nights.
Monday, February 26, 2007
By Lamplight
Since moving from my idyllic Springhouse I have gained central heat & air and lost, among the many many many charms of my prior abode, the ability to watch that most beloved of inventions - Television. As my friends are aware I am a bit of a masochist, so it isn't as bad as it could be... I have found however that such primitive conditions are very conducive to my addictive almost obsessive love of reading. I also realized that there is no real rhyme or reason to when or what I read. And that though this lends me a charming eccentric air it also leaves me bewildered at times as to where I read that line, you know the one, the one that gets lodged in your head, the seed of an idea, the simple ten word explanation of something which you've wrestled internally with most of your adult life, the perfect pick up, the exact right thing to say when you can't say anything to help someone, that line. Well, it used to be that I would highlight things, fold a page in an almost origamic way so that the tip of one page would point to the exact sequence of words that salved my soul. Alas, this only ensured I would never remember what I gained from my books until at some future point I reread that exact book (and I ALWAYS reread, at least once, books that I like enough to keep on my bookshelves, except of course Les Miserables, and no one can fault me on that!) Anyway, all this rambling is to bring me to this point:
I must start keeping track of what I read, and what strikes me when I read it!
So here it is, my starting point. I am going to list which books I am currently reading and when something strikes me about one of them I will record it. At some point I will take a little precious time away from work, and friends, and family, and pull my nose out of a book long enough to set this up as some kind of permanent list of some sort with a link and all that spiffy shit, but for now here is window into my current reading life:
Saving Fish from Drowning, by Amy Tan
She wrote The Joy Luck Club. I am ashamed to admit this, but I saw the movie and did not read the book. It is a very good read. I am fascinated by how the author took an interest in automatic writings (where the departed communicate through the writings of the living) and turned it into a brilliant plot for a novel. It solves all those nasty complicated point of narrative problems I encounter if I write more than three pages of anything. So far there have been no life enhancing quotes or thoughts, but I'm only 2/3 of the way through it, so I'll keep you posted. I did find an origami page marking what I think is the most beautifully funny names I've ever seen in print. (For my own reasons, I have a weakness for characters, real or fictional, with unusual names.) The following is the excerpt that I marked:
"The rusty-headed twins were two who remained, from the lineage of the Lord of Nats and his Most-Most Favorite Concubine. She was much higher in status than the Most Favorite Concubine, and somewhat lower than the Most-Most Favored Wife. This was according to the twins grandmother, who was not from the paternal side, and so not of the divine lineage. But she was the one who named the boy "Loot" and the girl "Bootie," English words meaning "goods of great value taken in war." She kept them from being that, as she now testified to the tribe and the Younger White Brother."
Also there is a part where describes the tribe making a plan to evade the military regime of Burma by this elaborate hoax of leaving their village intact and living in the rain forest mountains. Then abruptly it says "We made another plan." As though the plans we all just merely collective decisions that the tribe set forth for everything, all the time. Kind of a "If A, then B. If X, then Y." some sort of group Chose Your Own Adventure Book. I just found it amusing. Probably because I'd had a glass of wine in a very hot bath...
This Book Will Change Your Life "365 Daily Instructions for Hysterical Living", by Benrik
I originally picked this one up as a gift for My Best Friend. She's been a little twitchy lately... But as I flipped through it I realized just exactly how fabulous it was! Kind of along the lines of "Steal This Book," with a zenish twist. Not quite as anarchist as "Steal this Book" or "The Anarchist Cookbook," but also it is not outdated yet. You will not find the recipe for Heroine in this book, but you will find a list of backdoors for hacking and premade vegetable stickers. It is irrelavent on the surface, but if you look too deeply, you will find that the "Daily Instructions" are actually practices in self realization. I am quite looking forward to randomly opening to a page anytime I'm feeling in a rut. Examples of "Daily Instruction":
Day 65 - Today learn a poem by heart. (Sounds great & enlightening doesn't it...)
Day 27 - Today you are not allowed to use the words "yes" or "no."
Day 239 - Bullshit Today. Log on to an internet chatroom and participate in a discussion you know nothing about for as long as you can without being exposed as a fraud.
Day 224 - Cut in line.
Day 148 - Leave a note on someone's car windshield. (They give several examples. My favorite is "I've left someone in your trunk. I'll pick him up next week if that's OK.")
There are two other books that I've started, but I'm having a hard time thinking coherently right now...I know this has been long and rambling, but I'm on cold medication so cut me some fucking slack.
*These are NOT book reviews, just simply my thoughts. Which makes this entire process useless to anyone but me, which is exactly how I like it.
I must start keeping track of what I read, and what strikes me when I read it!
So here it is, my starting point. I am going to list which books I am currently reading and when something strikes me about one of them I will record it. At some point I will take a little precious time away from work, and friends, and family, and pull my nose out of a book long enough to set this up as some kind of permanent list of some sort with a link and all that spiffy shit, but for now here is window into my current reading life:
Saving Fish from Drowning, by Amy Tan
She wrote The Joy Luck Club. I am ashamed to admit this, but I saw the movie and did not read the book. It is a very good read. I am fascinated by how the author took an interest in automatic writings (where the departed communicate through the writings of the living) and turned it into a brilliant plot for a novel. It solves all those nasty complicated point of narrative problems I encounter if I write more than three pages of anything. So far there have been no life enhancing quotes or thoughts, but I'm only 2/3 of the way through it, so I'll keep you posted. I did find an origami page marking what I think is the most beautifully funny names I've ever seen in print. (For my own reasons, I have a weakness for characters, real or fictional, with unusual names.) The following is the excerpt that I marked:
"The rusty-headed twins were two who remained, from the lineage of the Lord of Nats and his Most-Most Favorite Concubine. She was much higher in status than the Most Favorite Concubine, and somewhat lower than the Most-Most Favored Wife. This was according to the twins grandmother, who was not from the paternal side, and so not of the divine lineage. But she was the one who named the boy "Loot" and the girl "Bootie," English words meaning "goods of great value taken in war." She kept them from being that, as she now testified to the tribe and the Younger White Brother."
Also there is a part where describes the tribe making a plan to evade the military regime of Burma by this elaborate hoax of leaving their village intact and living in the rain forest mountains. Then abruptly it says "We made another plan." As though the plans we all just merely collective decisions that the tribe set forth for everything, all the time. Kind of a "If A, then B. If X, then Y." some sort of group Chose Your Own Adventure Book. I just found it amusing. Probably because I'd had a glass of wine in a very hot bath...
This Book Will Change Your Life "365 Daily Instructions for Hysterical Living", by Benrik
I originally picked this one up as a gift for My Best Friend. She's been a little twitchy lately... But as I flipped through it I realized just exactly how fabulous it was! Kind of along the lines of "Steal This Book," with a zenish twist. Not quite as anarchist as "Steal this Book" or "The Anarchist Cookbook," but also it is not outdated yet. You will not find the recipe for Heroine in this book, but you will find a list of backdoors for hacking and premade vegetable stickers. It is irrelavent on the surface, but if you look too deeply, you will find that the "Daily Instructions" are actually practices in self realization. I am quite looking forward to randomly opening to a page anytime I'm feeling in a rut. Examples of "Daily Instruction":
Day 65 - Today learn a poem by heart. (Sounds great & enlightening doesn't it...)
Day 27 - Today you are not allowed to use the words "yes" or "no."
Day 239 - Bullshit Today. Log on to an internet chatroom and participate in a discussion you know nothing about for as long as you can without being exposed as a fraud.
Day 224 - Cut in line.
Day 148 - Leave a note on someone's car windshield. (They give several examples. My favorite is "I've left someone in your trunk. I'll pick him up next week if that's OK.")
There are two other books that I've started, but I'm having a hard time thinking coherently right now...I know this has been long and rambling, but I'm on cold medication so cut me some fucking slack.
*These are NOT book reviews, just simply my thoughts. Which makes this entire process useless to anyone but me, which is exactly how I like it.
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