!!!

I've been composing posts in my head for about a week; Posts about how great the holidays were, about buying local and the general diy culture, about the Bhutto assasination, the weather, the dismal Chicago literary scene etc, but I've been uber busy and doubly tired. Now, it's New Year's Eve and I haven't posted in over a week. Life is wild. My life today is absolutely different in every single way than it was this time last year. 2007 has been a huge year for me ... let's recap:

- finally (completely) got over my VERY unhealthy infatuated love/hate relationship with Tee. And wahoo for that.
- Survived a roommates nervous breakdown (everyone came out better for that, I think)
- Graduated College (huzzah)
- Realized the importance and power of empathy and open communication.
- Aknowledged a lot of good and bad things about who I am as a person. (that's the first step right?)
- Read a lot of stellar books
- Got serious about my writing (I'm still working on that)
- Embarked on my first semi-healthy relationship
- Got my heart punched up a bit
- Made some tough but really good decisions concerning patience and empathy
- Fell in love!!!
- Embarked on my first serious(ly) wonderful, healthy, happy, and supportive relationship. (wahooooooo)
- Moved into my first non-collge apartment (tough stuff)
- Began my first full-time job!
- Gained about ten pounds! (Love poundage!)
- Gave my first reading and got my work published for the first time.

All in all it was a crazy and awesome year. At times I wanted to shoot myself and other times jump for joy. I think that's a pretty damn good balance. Now ladies and gentleman, New Year's Resolutions! Love'em, hate'em, here they are:
(in no particular order)

Stop going to McDonald's
Buy Local and handmade as much as possible (paying a little extra for sustainable quality goods that don't pollute the environment is worth the money in my books!)
Travel somewhere outside of the Midwest
Start sending my writing out to Journals again, continue to attend literary and arts events.
Work on patience in everything I do.
VOLUNTEER

Hmm I think their are more, but that's all I got for now. Be safe this New Year's Eve and have fun. I promise to write more regularly in January.

Daylight Come and Me Wanna Go Home!

It is late (1:37 a.m.). I never stay up this late anymore. Today has been funny, but I'm in a ridiculously good mood. Just ordered a gift for someone, and I'm really excited about it. I don't think it will make it in time (stupid Chicago mail!), but I'm pretty sure it's worth the wait. Gift giving is fun. Like laughing your pants off. I did a lot of that tonight. Laughing and gift purchasing respectively.

I bought banana chips tonight and now my mouth feels like a warm tropical day. I should eat in bed more often. Maybe I'm sleepy now ...

You are Happy, Impatient Wretch

I think we make a good team.
I think I can do things that make me happy.
I think that 2007 was an interesting year (too early for a retrospective?)
I think I still have a lot to learn, about everything.
I think I need to read more.
I think I've gotten my problem about thinking too much under control (most of the time).
I'll bring home the tofurkey if you bring home your bacon.

This weekend was a good weekend. The big party went well, and I think most people involved had a pretty good time. It was money and time well spent. My hair is getting long, and I'm only getting shorter. I haven't felt very inspired lately. BUT, this always happens in winter. I just want to curl up and think of a million ways to get warm. At least I'm not all mopey and irritable. Though, I do think that one of my New Year's revolutions (revolutions was typo, I meant resolutions, but hey why not a revolution) should be to regain my patience. I used to be soooo patient; People would compliment me on my sheer amounts of patience with difficult things/people.

Now, I feel like people are sort of afraid of pissing me off, due to my extreme lack of patience. I think I know where this came from ... I don't think patience is a virtue, it's something much more estimable. I want to be someone you want to be around. I think that frustration has been running my life for a while. I've been caught up in acknowledging the things that are wrong with my world and terrifying about the world at large. I used to revel in everyday beauty and awe. Perhaps, I was naive, but I think I can maintain a healthful balance of awe and anger. Awe makes me appreciate things and anger/frustration makes me want to enact change. I suppose too much of either is poison.

This time, like all times, is a very good one, if we but know what to do with it.
- Ralph Waldo Emerson

Walking in the Sand

Last night I watched a showcase of experimental films. They were flicker films, and as far as I understand the "flicker" means a few things. The actual flicker is achieved by the use of Super 8 and 16mm film, you know the reel to reel they used to show Driver's Ed movies. The main idea behind the flicker film "genre" is trying to break the viewer's narrative, visual, and audio expectations widely accepted in commercial film.

I didn't really dig on any of the films, but the viewing sparked and stimulated a very good "EL" conversation about the meanings and reasons for creating avant-garde art. The likes that I haven't seen since I was an art major. It was really nice, and tied in nicely with what I've been pondering lately about my own art.

Also, Also, I'm watching a ganster movie (I don't know the title Ray Liotta and Al Pacino are stars?), it is highly uncharacteristic of me, but it is pretty interesting. Lot's of guns and blood and coke.

Uno!

What does it feel like to be leaving, I wonder. What is it to stay?
Does a journey with no end really exist?
Is existing a seasonal journey?
Who asked the first question?

What miscommunications would we encounter in our everyday life if the question mark (and corresponding vocal inflection) never existed?

hmm

I can't decide if I should take a writing class in January for $280 at Truman (Chicago Community College) or for $630 at the Art Institute. Different caliber, different communities. All I know is that I need to be a bit more proactive. Also, maybe I need to get a cheap car. I don't really like to deal with driving and all the pains that come with it, but maybe that would make me get out more. I don't know. Maybe I could just suck it up and get a bike helmet ...

Big party this weekend. It should be fun. Lots of preparation fun.

Land Lubber

"There’s something pure and infinite in you, that WANTS to come out of you, and can come out of no other person on the planet. That’s what you’ve got to share, and that’s as real and important as the fact that you’re alive. We were able, at a really young age, to somehow protect each other so we could feel that. The world at large, careerism, money, magazines, your parents, the people at the rock club in your town, other kids, nothing is going to give you that message, necessarily. In fact, most things are going to lead you away from it, sadly, because humanity is really confused at the moment. But you wouldn’t exist if the universe didn’t need you. And any time I encounter something beautiful that came out of a human somewhere, that’s them, that’s their own soul. That’s just pure, whatever its physicality is, if the person can play piano, if they can’t play piano, if they’re tone deaf, whatever it is, if it’s pure, it hits you like a sledgehammer. It fills up your own soul, it makes you want to cry, it makes you glad you’re alive, it lets YOU come out of YOU. And that’s what we need: we desperately need YOU"

- Julian Kostner

I stole this from my roommate's wall of quotations. I needed to read something like this. I've been coming to terms with imperfection. For a long time I was obsessed with the idea of becoming really good at something. I jumped from project to project trying to find the thing that I was naturally good at, or (even worse) better than most people at. That bad habit, only led to frustration and quitting a lot of things.
I felt inadequate.
Lately (through existential crisis and patient conversations) I've realized that it's okay to suck at things. I don't give myself a chance. So from henceforth, I'm okaying with sucking. Just because I'm tone deaf, doesn't mean I shouldn't sing. I don't know, I feel like this is the key to unlocking my personal greatness. Everything is a journey and I need to learn to not be so damn impatient.


I also followed directions on a business card someone gave me about a month ago. I discovered something else I really need, and I don't know why I waited so long. I got caught up in fear. It's debilitating. But now I'm embarking on what appears to be an epic adventure.

(I also went swimming last night, wahooooooo)

OMGZ!

It's already December. How did that happen?
It should be a pretty fun month.
I'm going swimming tomorrow. I can't wait.
I think I might have the best boyfriend in the universe, and I wish I got to see him more.

I have a crush on Vincent Gallo, again.
Someone recommend me a good poetry book ...

Experiment #236

I like you.
You like me.

Holy Toledo that was a big crash!

Dagger Daniel - Scholar of War

The problem is, I can see myself doing everything.

In the new Dylan movie David Cross plays Ginsberg. Oddly fitting.

Maybe the ubiquitous question, WHO AM I? doesn't ever have to be answered.

Or perhaps I answer the question every day, and it's never the same.

Today I'm a dreamer, tomorrow I'm a mechanic, and the next day I'm just a kid riding around on a bike with a little toy gun saying POW!

Dead Pixels

This afternoon I wrote. The first thing I've written in a long time. It poured out of my fingertips. Felt good to create. The words didn't feel forced. It was poetry.

My love affair with poetry is far reaching. Is it a sign? Did the dream of grad school die because I'm just not a fiction writer? Is poetry my calling (oh god, I really am going to be poor)?

Does everyone feel awful at this age? This sense of being lost, of wanting to reject everything established? All I require is honesty and truth. Tell me where is the authenticity?

Holiday (as sung by Madonna)

The older you get, the weirder family gatherings feel.

Once, at Thanksgiving, my Aunt made me clean dog poo off her shoe. Now she has a MySpace account. Nothing about my family life makes sense to me.

This year's festivities were strangely normal. Strange.

I don't need a special day to say I'm thankful for what I have, but I suppose it doesn't hurt to give an extra shout out. So here goes:
I am tremendously thankful for all that I have (tangible and otherwise). I've come a long way in the past couple of years and that's because I have lovely people in my life who are willing to put up with my bouts of tyranny. I am thankful for trees and music, art and new experiences, food and bravery. Ahhh you get the picture.

Life isn't always easy, but when we help each other sometimes it doesn't seem so hard.

Feel Flows

Last night I dreamt of growing old.

This morning I woke up and found twenty dollars in my back pocket and five in my book bag.

*addendum: I just played a 65 point scrabble word using all seven tiles ... spindler.
I think today is going to be a very good day, huzzah!

Today

I'm standing at the window of a 12th story high rise, looking out at the haze of a city shrouded in fog. I feel much farther up than twelve stories. On a clear day I can see the ferris wheel at Navy Pier, on an overcast day I can see the tip of the conservatory peeking through the trees.

This morning I can barely make out the other high rise adjacent to mine. As the hours pass, the screen only thickens. The room, made mostly of windows, is calm and soft.

Today I feel, calm and soft.

What would the community think?

Social imports cannot be managed at this time. Creativity is at a stand still.

Many things stand still. For the first time I'm making decisions based solely on conversations with myself. Today hasn't happened, and tomorrow says don't look back.

My mind can't seem to understand this world, or the things going on in my heart and my head.

A couple things I learned this weekend:

• Sometimes self sacrifice looks ugly on the big screen (see Sean Penn's take on Krakauer's "Into the Wild")
• Sometimes things on the big screen move me and break my heart in a big way even if they are portraying something that's "against the law." (see Jed Riffe's documentary, "Waiting to Inhale") I loves the documentaries!
• I don't have to be the greatest at anything. Ego is all about insecurity? It really did take me over 23 years to come to this conclusion.
• Only 1/2 half of what they tell you about this crazy thing called love is true, the rest is a simply byzantine tangle of emotions. UNPREDICTABLE, good, bad, magical!!!
• It doesn't matter what end of the bed you sleep at, as long as you're sleeping with someone who is willing to keep you warm and drool on your head. (life philosophy?)

My nose is running out the front door. Brrrrrr

Changing the way you think everyday all the time is good for your heart and mind! Don't ever become a stubborn stagnant pond!

Tis the Season?

Last night I paper mached giant rat hands, for a production of the nutcracker, to the tunes of A Charlie Brown Christmas. It was somehow cathartic. I went to sleep with cold hands and my heart a little happier.

Iron Lung - Surely I belong somewhere, everything belongs somewhere.

I'm making myself sick. Sometimes I feel like such a hack. Sometimes I worry and worry till nothing seems right. I'm tired from too much sleeping, and I'm restless from staying in one place. Will I be condemned to lead a life of perpetual restlessness?

I think that eventually I could die a happy death as a wonderer or a starved hunter gatherer.

I don't mind the cold so far this year, which is odd. I am always first to complain about the sun shying away from the ground.
Besides it sort of nice bundling up, and searching for warm spots in the apartment. I can endure. I can endure anything. Save for my empty bed.

Sometimes I think that I cursed myself when I fell in love. Now, I know what I'm missing when these stretches of time span more than a week. It amazes me how the mere presence of someone can ease my mind to the point of contentedness.

I guess the upside of my malcontent is that I've been writing a lot lately.

NanWriMo 2007

As if I haven't enough to worry about with gradaute prep ... NanWriMo 07. Okay, maybe I won't hit 50,000 this year, but I'm shooting for at the very least 25,000 words. Anything better than last year's sorry excuse for a word count!



Cheers and good luck to everyone. Next thing you know it will be Christmas!

Tummy Turnover

Today I plan to subsist solely on milk chocolate.

Happy Halloween.

I'll take a brief sabbatical from studying for my graduate exam to watch horror movies with the boys, and stuff my face with ornately wrapped lumps of sugar. Mmm mm!

What's the worst scary movie you've ever seen?

The Calendar Hung Itself

It was the second body I had seen since moving into the city. Always when I'm so tired. Last time I merely saw the outline. A barely there silouhette of something once living. Then it was a run in with a commuter train. The man in too short khakis danced in strobes around the shrouded mass. My window was put forth squarely in front of the scene. Was it a mangle of flesh under there? I'd never know.

This morning, I knew. The photographer didn't take care to fully cover his glamour-less subject. Stage left, two mangled pieces of metal and the aftermath of a hailstorm of broken glass. Center stage, a writhing hand frozen in char reaches from beneath a too small sheet. I glimpsed a side profile of what was supposed to be a face.

This weekend I plead in earnest to end war. My cold body trembled as I held my protest sign high. A line of armed officers seperated me from the dozen or so people in "support of the war." Grown men screamed awful things at me. I was scared, yes, but not of them. It was their terrifying logic that made me feel scared and alone.

For sure I don't understand the gravity of what these scenes are doing to me. Maybe they are slowly breaking my heart. Perhaps they are "toughening" me up. All I can say is that I'm not afraid.

The Winds They are A' Blowin

Hello world. Remember the war?

Is your heart sedated? Did you forget what we were fighting for?

They didn't hide it, but I never knew.

What coordinates lie at the axis of evil?

I never knew.

I don't like it anymore than you. Do something about it. Look at sand blown pictures of foreign children that don't know what you're fighting for either. Do they look a little like your kids at home?

Think about all the money that's being spent on bandages and bullets instead of schools and hospitals. Wonder why they aren't asking you to plant a victory garden, and plant one for peace instead.

Get angry or sad. Do both. Talk about it with your friends, family, and the person standing behind you at the coffee shop.

The worst thing you can do is nothing. The most awful thing you can do is forget.
Civil Disobedience is a must in order to run a true democracy.

A little inspiration from the greats:

If we desire respect for the law, we must first make the law respectable.
~Louis D. Brandeis

As long as the world shall last there will be wrongs, and if no man objected and no man rebelled, those wrongs would last forever.
~Clarence Darrow

If you are neutral in situations of injustice, you have chosen the side of the oppressor. If an elephant has its foot on the tail of a mouse and you say that you are neutral, the mouse will not appreciate your neutrality.
~Bishop Desmond Tutu

When leaders act contrary to conscience, we must act contrary to leaders.
~Veterans Fast for Life

Finally:
If... the machine of government... is of such a nature that it requires you to be the agent of injustice to another, then, I say, break the law.
~Henry David Thoreau, On the Duty of Civil Disobediance, 1849

Show your support of peace and bringing your nieces and nephews and neighbors and children home: Transfer your feelings to action. PROTEST THE WAR in CHICAGO on SATURDAY OCTOBER 27, 1:30 @ UNION PARK! For those of you not in Chicago, there are protests commencing all over the United States!

Big Daddy Big Daddy

That last post didn't make too much sense. Sometimes I do that when I get real excited. I have a bug bite on my neck that won't quit itching. It looks like someone mauled me.

The weekend was long and lovely, but it came and went too fast. I am a happy little dreamboat. Happy actually doesn't do my feelings justice. I have a supreme and perpetual feeling of ahhhhhhhh. If that makes any sense. If it doesn't run out and find something that elicits such a feeling, and then relish in it! I'm relishing the hell out of it. (At least on weekends and federal holidays!)

This blog may be quite sparse for the next couple of weeks. The preparation for entrance into graduate school is consuming most of my free time not spent feeling ahhhh. Grad school does NOT make me feel "ahhh." It makes me feel sweaty, nervous, and somewhat reckless. Although, under all the fright, I'm proud of myself. The Last Unicorn is often known for taking the easy way out. Not this time. Despite the fear and large (large) margin for failure, I'm going to see this one through. If it doesn't work out, I know it's not for lack of trying.

TGIThursday!

Huzzah!

This weather has got me spooked. Yes it's autumn, so I should be all spooked and looking over my shoulder.

But I'm spooked because of this bizarro fall weather. Today I woke up and it was muggy and pouring.

I looked comedically pitiful standing in the dark, sweating, with a broken umbrella, while the rain poured down onto my huge backpack waiting for the #74 bus. It didn't brighten up till about 9:00 a.m. this morning. Now the sky is filled with fast moving apocalyptic clouds and gale force winds!

I wanted to take the boys to the park today, but I fear they will be blown away.

What's with this silly weather?


My weekend starts today, and it's a long one. I'm so so so excited. I will see everyone back on Tuesday!

Have a lovely weekend my lovelies.

A Big Change for a Little Head

Today I sent out my graduate school request for reccomendation letters. Another step closer to something.

I haven't been keeping up on writing or reading blogs lately. Sorry, I miss it a lot, but my time has been spent studying and preparing, and enjoying the fall weather.

I want to carve pumpkins so bad, but it is nearly impossible to get a hold of them in the city.

My mind is really full with ideas for stories right now. They are all so vivid. I feel like a vessel. Someone or something is filling up my brain cells with foreign places and cast shadows.

This blog is sparse, but my hunger just superceded all pictures and thought patterns.

Burrito Time!

Green wins Again

Congrats to ol' Gorey and the climate crisis panel on winning the Nobel Peace Prize!

I respect Gore's work, and think it is done in a tasteful and honest manner.

I want to keep what is green, green; What is dry, dry; And what is frozen frozen.

Now if he'd only run for president ...

Hello Out There, I'm Not What You'd Call a City Girl

I've been neglectful. What ever did you read without me updating you on my life?

The weather is changing and I'm changing too

I'm turning inside out. That stuff was always there, but no one ever saw it

Today I watched ten foot waves jump into the sky, and fall back down again

It was my heart beating in stereo surround sound

I saw a dead or dying bird It was beautiful I didn't touch it

But I wanted to

I wanted to administer beak to mouth resuscitation I wanted to warm it up in my hands, and then throw it up in the air and watch it fly away

I don't like this city I love this city
I don't like living in it

Of course we were wrong, we were the young and the restless
I'm not unhappy, just eager to get out
I'm still the young and the restless

Maybe next year I'll move into a cozy ten foot wave and crash about Maybe I'll go to some university in the middle of nowhere and write a novel Maybe I'll just become a bird and build us a nest, where waves and writers are always welcome.

Damnit Oprah

Oprah has chosen my favorite book (of all time) "Love in the Time of Cholera" by Gabriel Garcia Marquez for her book club.

Now, I love Oprah, and I've spent a great deal of my time defending her to my friends. Sometimes I feel like the youngest/most radical Oprah fan in existence, but I really respect what she does. She brings important topics to the forefront of the American psyche; She does good things with her money; And she is pretty darn charming. I wouldn't say she's my role model, but the show is interesting to watch amidst the sea of crap televison.

Yet, somehow, I find myself really quite angry at her choice for her latest book club. "Love" is sacred to me, and I don't want a bunch of housewives relegating such a mystical masterpiece. I don't know there is something very pedestrian about a national book club. Is this snotty of me? I was never one to drop a band because it got "popular." This book won a nobel prize for literature, so it's not that I'm worried it will get ruined by popularity. I don't know ...

BUT Oprah did inform me that a movie version of "Love in the Time of Cholera" is coming out November 16 (who knew?), and I'm pretty excited about that. I wonder if it will be in espanol? For once there is actually more than one movie I want to see out in theaters!

Regardless of whether or not Oprah told you to (I'm telling you) read that book! Here is a lovely biography of Marquez. He is a most interesting man.

Have a nice weekend and eat your veggies!

One Blogpost for Burma

Is there strength in blog numbers?




Educate yourself about what's going on in the world, because someday it might be happening to you!


Thanks to Jilly at Poetry Hut for the links. I would be lost in the internets without her tireless efforts! And thank you FreeBurma.Org for increasing awareness.

I think I see the light

But the great dark birds of history screamed and plunged
into our personal weather
They were headed somewhere else but their beaks and pinions drove
along the shore, through rages of fog
where we stood, saying I

- Adrienne Rich

Maybe I'm Amazed

I'm just the girl with peppers in her pockets, and you're the boy with the black mask and the soft heart.

This weekend was an adventure, and now I feel all scatterbrained. I hate how that happens. I dreamed about mangos and spent time under a secret tree. I ate macaroni&cheese amidst the all encompassing comfort of an underwear model. I lived out loud, and as a reward, put my face down to the ground and watched the grass breath.

"If everybody hid indoors, nothing would ever change." I've narrowed down grad schools, and now I'm checking out health insurance plans; I'm terrified. Living and learning, so damn expensive.

Last night I watched a documentary called "Wetbacks: The Undocumented Documentary" it hurt to know that I am a part of a country that cares so little for their fellow man. I don't care for borders. What is the world's preoccupation with division? What right have I to this land?

What right do I have to be this happy, when their are so many so very sad?

Rainbow Vagina and Chief Dylango Electric

Last night bff and I stayed up coloring pictures and making fun of each other way past our bedtimes. We decided that our pictures were just kitschy enough to warrant framing and placement on our walls. At that moment we realized, oh my word, we have our own walls. They weren't owned by a University or even our parents. We could put up pictures of bearded ladies while blasting banjo at unreasonable hours and no one could stop us!

Bff and I have been talking about living together in the "big city" since we were in seventh grade. I can't believe that we actually pulled it off, and with style no less. Hurrah for best friend co-habitation and late nights!

Today, I received a love letter. It contained exactly what a love letter should; Poetry. Sincere, moving, and articulate. Not the nasty kind of sentimental Hallmark drab, but everything that is good and honest about that idea which we call love. The writer understands that "love" can mean much more than the common nomenclature. The writer understands the passage of time. You must understand then why I can't answer that letter back, after all I've recently embarked on the biggest adventure of my romantic life. This video is for you, and eating blueberry muffins in a cold, wet field. The letter means a lot to me, and I wish people did just what you did more often. I wish people cared without caring. Situations disregarded I'm proud of who you are becoming. I am fond of where we've been.

As for you baldy ... I can't wait until this weekend.

Cry Break Breathe; Breathe Break Smile

We are bath tub pirates. Wizened and better, a clean and surprising bonding experience. I could have swam in those waters all evening. We went beyond the seven seas and coughed up something more than gold coins and cross bones.

Ahhh to be young and ... incontrovertibly content. At least with each other.

I don't have the world. I don't want the world, it's not mine to conquer. But show me a map with x marking some spot that takes a little work to get to, and I will go poking around and bring back dinner.

Last week is over. Thank goodness for that. Summer is over. At just the right time. Now, I'm painting fire on leaves and zipping up my cardigan so I don't freeze. My house feels like a home, and though, sometimes I feel alone, I know I'm not. Not even kind of not at all.

Tonight is a sassy dinner, tomorrow laundry (again again), Thursday is early bird work, and Friday begins another weekend adventure again (Amtrak stocks must be skyrocketing). Bff decided to forgo her suburban job to spend time at her apartment.
Yea, I actually might get to hang out with her now!
I'm excited and after her two weeks notice has expired an overdue housewarming party is to commence. Wahoo. Event planning, the only useful skill I learned in college (kidding). But really folks it's fun to play hostess every once in a while.

To everyone, I promise to try harder not to be such a DebbieDowner this week!

oh yeah, OH YEAH!

I might be blue, but I got a four day weekend. See you suckers on Tuesday!

<3 <3
Restfully Yours,
The Last Unicorn

Also, for all my Jewish friends: Happy High Holy Days!

Turn the page, but I'll warn you, it gets harder

Needs adventure.

Is it adventure I long for, or an escape?
A new identity. I'll burn my social security card and become an Elk.
I'll plod through the forest flaring my nostrils and stomping my hooves.


Everything [lately] threatens to break my heart. Someday maybe I'll just let something break.
Why so blue? I used to be in love with the world, now I'm not so sure.

This morning I ventured out when it was still dark.
I felt alone. I left alone. I arrived alone.

I swam through ten shades
each
of blue and gray. Little pink fingers tried to tinge the horizon.

In the chaotic stillness I tore another sheet off the calendar, and crawled a little deeper inside of myself.

Boo x's 100

This morning I got the very unfortunate news that my dog Kiki died. The Kikster was definitely a part of the family and will definitely be missed. Our home will not be the same without her bug eyes and wagging tail.

I also received some more unfortunate news that my sister's husband is a complete asshole, and will most likely not be her husband for very long.

Wooo good times. I do not like to hear the women in my family crying so much, it hurts my heart.

All this puts a damper on anything I could possibly want to say today. So uhm, enjoy the last days of warm weather ...

and don't be an asshole.

What's the difference between a hobo and a homeless person?

The answer is class. Well, historically I believe the answer is that hobos are migratory workers, but for today's blog I rather use my own definitions. When I think of hobo I think of a scuzzy old person standing in front of a fire in an oil drum. When I think of a homeless person, well I just imagine an unfortunate soul without a home.

Outside the El stop in my neighborhood I noticed a reoccurring character. His skin is the deepest black and a thick spray of braids spring from the top of his head like a fancy fountain. This man I speak of lounges upon a full sized mattress in various locales. By various locales, I mean, one day instead of in front of the bakery, across from the El station, his mattress would be next to the dumpster on the opposite side of the street. Some days him and his mattress are nowhere to be found.

He just reeks of regality, and I'm utterly intrigued. With shoes placed neatly to the side, he idles on the mattress like
the king of the pride passing the hours in the hot savannah. He's beautiful, and I often wonder what his story is. I've got my theories.

What I don't quite understand is how the mattress stays so clean and where it's going. I mean does he carry it around with him? He's a big man, but it's a really big mattress! Also, I've decided that homeless man nor hobo is appropriate; he's totally a vagabond.

I wish you guys could see him.

Go check out today's post @ A Softer World, it is lovely. I want to be best friends with both of those people. They are the right amount of nostalgia, sarcasm, intellect, and raciness. Seriously if I was Canadian I would probably be creepy and "happen" to frequent their local hang-outs...

Have a lovely weekend all.

Funk Shaking

Aunt Jemima, Peter Pan and Mr. Kool-Aid all sleep with their mouths open.

Let's shake the funk.

Our jobs will have been done when the funk has been shook.

shake funk shake.



Architecture in Helsinki, is the silliest band I love to love.

I never watched Sesame Street as a child, sometimes I think I'm the only one.

You might think about how you got started

Last night I had a burrito that was ten times better than the best burrito I've had in my entire life.

It was fresh, delicious, and homemade. BestFriend was the architect, but I helped to engineer the masterpiece.

Fresh Cilantro
Rice (cooked in the rice cooker w/lime and cilantro)
Cuban Style Black Beans
Diced Tomato
Grilled Green Pepper, Onion, and Garlic

the clencher?

Mexican style sour cream.

That's all I got for today. Eat something delicous, and be happy.

Age of Intepretation

Yesterday on the very crowded El, on the way home from work, a man with a large backpack nearly knocked me over. This is no big deal it happens often, and frankly I understand. I'm sure I've jostled a few with my bag full of books. What was interesting about the situation is the comment I heard as the man exited the train, and I tried to regain my balance. "Did you see that Kim? That man nearly knocked that little girl over with his bag!"

Little Girl?

And that's not it. This weekend I went with my mother to go pick up my little sister (aged 16) from a friend's house. As we pulled up in the drive (bear with me here) my sister's friend's little sister ran halfway between the frontdoor and the car; She motioned wildly for me to come inside. I rolled down the window and stared at the girl wondering what she could possibly want from me "come on!" she said. Finally, she traversed the rest of the distance from the front-door to my mother's car. When she was standing directly in front of me her smile faded, "Oh I thought you were my friend."

What? You thought I was your 11 year old friend? Mind you the distance from the front door to my mom's car was a mere 10 ft (at most).

Now, I know that I look younger than my age. Usually I get 17 or 18 but am I regressing in age? How can I be getting younger? Is it my hair growing out, because let me know and I will chop it off again. I disliked looking five years younger to begin with, but twelve years younger is just unacceptable! And don't give me that well you'll appreciate it once you're older business! When I'm older I'll be happy to look exactly the age I am. I don't need to be young forever! I will gladly let my hair go gray and embrace age with grace and style. But how can I do that if I never get old?

My mom gave me a hard time this weekend lecturing me about how young people think they're immortal and they never think that they'll get old. I'm a big klutz so I know that my days are numbered, but maybe just maybe I've unknowingly unlocked the door to immortality.

Lord knows it isn't Chicago tap water! I just don't get it. I mean I'm short, but 5'3'' is the national average for American women. I think I dress age appropriate. What does 23 look like, because I need a few pointers!

NEWSFLASH! Tim Draper's biography on president George Bush "Dead Certain" may just be the next book I purchase.
I've read few biographies that don't bore me (Keith Moon is the only one that comes to mind actually), and I certainly didn't expect my interests to be piqued by a political figure I loathe.

But, I often wonder, who is this odd guy I have to call my president? What is his personality aside from politics and vacationing? GQ writer Tim Draper gained uncanny access to Bush and his inner circle for the writing of this book. In a recent interview when asked what the motivation for writing this book was he said, "How did an un-ambitious Midland [Texas] oilman change the world, for better or for worse?...Who was this man who, before he became this pivotal character on an international landscape, was a virtually anonymous figure whom no one viewed as having leadership capabilities? How did he become a leader, and what did he do with it?"

Tim Draper is neither for or against Bush and therefore casts an honest light on the administration and the man in question. Although I hear he's getting a little guff for that. Apparently, if the White House gives you access you're supposed to portray them in shiny white alabaster! I applaud Draper for his honesty, and can't wait to read the book.

If you asked me to run away with you this is what I would say ...

Eighteen ounces divided two ways. Creamy and white.
This is how I start my day.

Last night, I just couldn't sleep in the absence of cold.
Today, I promised me not to fake smiles, but to be content in my fatigue and the daily tasks set out before me.

Everyone has their off days.

Today I feel spirited, but all weak and bony. So I made me self eat a hearty fisherman's breakfast. I ate it tough and drank it black. I didn't even bother to wipe my mouf, but alas I am no fisherman. A fisherlady at best. I stopped halfway through and yawned it all up.

No, I don't mean maybe.

My land legs are tired. But when I sail by the man on the stoop everynight at half past whatever ungodly commuter hour he reassures my purpose with a hello, how are ya', and a tip of an imaginary red fedora. That's enough for now, but this year I missed the excitement of meeting new people. Seafaring creatures. I guess I'm not missing much. Because what I really want is to meet magical undersea adventurers that only exist in leather bound books and pirate's imaginations.

Yes, no, of course! What I mean is, I thought you'd never ask. Otherwise I would have gone alone.

Pancakes don't belong in your ears.

The weekend was long and lovely. Unfortunately it did not contain proper amounts of sleep. That makes for a tough work week. Today I am inconsolably irritable. It is the kind of irritability that sits in my belly and shows in my face. For those who know me in person this happens rarely, but when it does steer clear.

I try to breathe deeply and not let it affect my tasks of the day. I try to wash it from my face with a forced smile, but alas I cannot muster even the fakest of grins.

My work is not helping. My work is not napping and screaming and crying and yelping for no ostensible reason. My solution? After deep breaths and personal pep talks don't work, I blog about it. Hmm what an age we've arrived at, yet somehow I feel better already.

I'm still trying to settle into the new place, but that brings about a whole new cauldron of stresses. I have yet to find a place where I can sit down and write without being distracted. This makes me nervous. I cannot be supernanny beyond a year. It's grad-school or bust. I try to imagine myself doing other things besides writing and teaching. The only thing I can see myself doing is farming. Guess who doesn't know the first thing about running a farm? That's right it's your very own Ms. Unicorn.

sigh.

Hoo!

I entered an international haiku contest on a whim. I'm pretty excited.
It's already wednesday; How did that happen?
I'm all out of books again, so I started another comic series. I don't really like it, but I almost never like things at first. The things I usually detest the greatest end up being my most favorites ... I wonder why that is.

The Pro-Life Action League (wah waaah)

It has recently come to my attention that my town is getting a large planned parent-hood clinic. I think it's a very positive step towards Aurora cleaning up and taking care of its residents, but not everyone would agree with women taking responsibility for their lives and possible offspring. Apparently we still live in the fifties where responsible family planning and women's rights are frowned upon.

There has been a flurry of pro-life protestors and some media coverage of the "den of sin." According to Steve Trombley, president and CEO of Planned Parenthood/Chicago Area, "more than 90 percent of its services have to do with reproductive health care, not abortion, and that the clinic is opening because of local demand." While I am an avid pro-choice supporter I tend to not get involved with protests where a bunch of zealots from both sides yell at each other, until I came upon the illustrious Joe Schiedler and the pro-life action league. Let's see what the pro-life action league has to say:

Speaking of sordid, did you see the reaction to the news that the cost of contraceptives is soaring on college campuses? It seems the poor little promiscuous floozies on campus may have to pay $40 for Ortho Tri-Cyclen Lo instead of a reasonable $7, and up to $25 for a good old generic contraceptive pill that was going for only $5 or $6.

The Big Bad Wolf in this story is President George Bush for signing a Deficit Reduction Act last year, aimed at reducing federal spending by $39 billion, making it more costly for drug makers to offer low cost birth control to college clinics. Then the U. S. Centers for Medicare and Medicaid Services issued regulations that dropped college clinics from a list of agencies to which drug companies could sell discounted drugs. Oh, sob!

And this tragedy has caught the poor little fornicators off guard, and they are scared that they may become pregnant, since they haven't enough character to practice virtue. Or maybe they never even heard of that option. But while it may cost them something, many students say they wouldn't dream of going off of their contraceptives. Some, so bold as to give their names for the Sun-Times story, say they'll pay whatever it takes. A kind of sick, sad, sordid, society we've got here on our modern college campuses. Give me the good old college days of yore.

He sounds really intelligent. Hey anyone want to go to a protest with me?? I'll even let you hold the picket sign.

Anywho, this is how the weekend went: WONDERFUL. I visited my alma mater (ha ha), and I saw everyone I wanted to see and did everything I wanted to do. I even got to go swimming! At night! Basically life is pretty darn enjoyable right now, and I'm ready to buckle down and start studying hard and getting my portfolio ready for grad school.

Delicate Tissue

Well I would like to take this space and time to write about my ridiculously lovely weekend away, but instead because of some asshole I am compelled to write about how it's never ever okay to abuse your significant other. Here's the unfortunately very true scenario:

Late Sunday night on the Chicago brown line a man and woman quietly boarded my car from another.

Woman: Well if we would have listened to me and got on the red line we wouldn't be going in circles.

thirty seconds of silence

Thud.

Woman: Why did you do that?

Man: Shut-up.

Me: (hopping out of my seat, near hysteric, and very surprised) Are you kidding me? What the fuck are you doing? (to the woman) Are you okay?

the man then puts his arm in front of the lady like he's protecting her ... from me.

Man: She's fine.

Me: I asked her, not you. Are you okay?

Woman: (through streaming tears, a broken lip, and an already bruising cheek) I-I'm okay.

At the next stop they stood beside me at the door waiting for them to open. As she walked off she looked at me. All I could think to say was, you're better than that. After they got off the only other person in the car asked me what happend. I was like, "That guy punched his wife in the face!" Then I lost it, I started bawling uncontrollably for the rest of the ride, the whole mile walk home, and into my sleep. I was shaking and couldn't calm myself down. All of my friends were asleep and I just needed someone to tell me that they wouldn't know what to do either.

It was one of the worst things I've seen in my life. If that man thought it was okay to do that in public on a train with other people on it, I don't know how he treats her at home when no one else is around. I suppose I wanted to take this time to share this, because I can barely believe it happend. I felt so helpless.

Now, in general I'm pretty much a pacifist. Resorting to violence seems ignorant and reckless to me, but I understand in some very dire situations it is necessary, but for gosh sakes it is certainly not appropriate or tolerable within the framework of the concept of relationship. It goes both ways too, man or woman it's just not okay. I wanted to grab that woman and say aren't you more scared of this man than being alone? But that's almost never true.

I wish there was some lesson in this post, but I don't have anything. Don't hit the people who care about you, because it sucks a lot. Do you want someone loving you who doesn't respect themselves? Do you want to love someone who doesn't respect you? Abusive relationships are just ugly through and through. I'm sorry for any man or woman that has felt helpless because of someone they thought they cared about.

blah.

Who doesn't love inclement weather?

A tree is a question the ground asks of the sky.
- Harry Mathews

I thought the trees were benign. I thought they wouldn't come crashing down, but they did. It was punishment for not planting a tree on Arbor Day or not lionizing the forest on Earth day. Next year I will celebrate by planting a redwood forest in the loop.

Considering a silly conversation I had with a certain someone and his mom ...
Preserve our right to be free!

You're a pal and a confidant

I watched one too many episodes of Golden Girls today.

I dreamt I was late for work, and then I really was. Upon arriving, late, my boss gave me a slice of chocolate cake.
So I ate delicious chocolate cake for breakfast. Then I got a stomach ache. That's what I get for being late.

All I wanted to do this summer was swim. I didn't get to swim much. But I think back to who I was and the situation I was in last end of summer, and it's okay that I didn't get to swim very often. I found some paper writings I did around this time last year, it's pretty raw. I was the saddest I'd ever been in my entire life.

I spent nearly an entire summer either crying or trying to hold back tears. I didn't remember what it was like to be happy without trying. Thank goodness that only lasted for a bit. Last summer was rough, and I'm really glad to be where I am today with the people I care about today.

I wonder if you go through shitty stuff so you can understand and appreciate the wonderful things when they finally do come along.

The result was a million infinitely complex pieces.

Official dweller of the great (dirty, pretty, complex, etc.) city of chicago. Finally. Now if only I can figure out how to build a dining room table.

There are a trillion beautiful and lovely things about the world. True, there might be equal parts of rotten, but it is our job to root out the good and serve it up on a pink platter (or whatever color you like).

I am excited about things right now. Everything.

AND, it stopped raining.

hoo!

Next stop: Discourse on Immigration Policy.

Dodging the natural disaster:

We waited, but it never came. We watched out the window quietly in a mid afternoon haze. The rain, like a prized pianist's fingers plinked somber sprays of notes across the city. No one could get dry. Not this day or the one before.

On another day my face became flushed. I became a sort of gelatinous blob as people awed and strummed and bobbed their heads in beat. Later on It took the energy of an entire Metropolitan city not to cry. Not like you could tell the way it poured down onto me.

This is all true and happening and I can't believe it, because for awhile I thought that I couldn't feel that feeling. To think that anything has the power to reduce me to a gelatinous blob is scary. To think about maps and time tables isn't fun, but let's play like we're adventurists and not sentimentalists.

and who doesn't like an epic adventure?

we're not magicians because they are liars.
(we're magic)
we're not pioneers because many have been here before.
(we're doing it our way)
we're not maudlin because we're tough like tar.
(well maybe a little, but who cares)

I let that funny word slip out. No, not that one, the one suggesting ownership. I never liked labels, but I had never been motivated for it's use. What wonders never cease. la la la la how colloquial of me. I've decided to enroll in a writing class at the Art Institute (starts September 4). I know. But it's close and works with my schedule. Besides this blog ain't gonna get me into grad school!

The sun is sort of peeking out, and really I'm not worried about all this distance business. Really I'm just jealous that everyone gets to see you waay more than I do.

On Miso

You made a bad decision or two, but mostly you're nice and you got a sweet heart. You're messy and short, but not too short. Perhaps a little too messy. Definitely too loud. You wish you had a cause. You believe in God, but you don't know if you trust him. His motives are quite murky. You love animals but not as pets. Your eyebrows arch slightly everytime you lie, but everyone believes you all the time. You think you're pretty damn funny, and peanut butter is your favorite food.

Sometimes I forget who I am and what I stand for or is it that I never even knew?
I watched a big spider spin a big web outside the window as I typed this. I listened to sort of sad music and it felt like fall already. I don't know what I'm doing here folks.

I'm neither there nor here. Another weird transistion time. (let's just get it over with already!)

I ordered in and the really awesome half Swede half Japanese delivered. She's my favorite person I've met in the city. Miso soup is so delicous. I sit at the tiny table where light streams in at the northwestern corner; Quietly because the babies are finally asleep. I wait for it to separate and then dip my spoon so the miso mushrooms and swirls and mixes then separates again. Miso makes me feel like fall too. I've been cold since last night, and it finally warms me up a bit. I finally got to sleep in a bed last night. It makes getting up a little harder.

The books I'm reading are making me think a lot in really hard ways about how soft I live my life. But I knew this for some time now, it only distances me from the people I love. Weird. Whoever said the written word was dead?
Anyway
Don't get me wrong I'm not unhappy, I'm just pensive. Also, I just realized I haven't updated all week so this is what's going on in my head.

Small Table Big thoughts Little News

oh yeah i think something bit me in the neck while I was sleeping last night. well i know something did, i'm just not sure what. i may or may not be the undead or an insect next i post. lets hope for an insect, i'd hate to live forever.

Try to Remember Always

I had a most lovely weekend. I got all soaped up and tired. Dee-lightful.
It's crunch time for the apartment, ooooh, we're readying our pens....

It's all quiet on the Western Front err, I mean, I can't stop reading online news. It makes me feel angry.

New fave? This Modern World. Yeah, I guess you could say I'm left, but only cause' they make me.
Hell, I used to be fiscally conservative, but now I think they should just scrap it all and start over.

I was talking to bestfriend the other day about tolls and a heard rumour about the privatization of police forces she said, "well it's a democracy. Your democracy, if you don't like it you can leave. I mean theoretically you put all of these laws in place by voting and electing officials."


... Theoretically ...

The funny thing about theorizing is that it's only in your head.

Taste the Rainbow

a few things:
Skittles has brought me up and then back down again in one fell swoop. On the upside, limited edition carnival flavors: candy apple, bubble gum, cotton candy, red licorice, and green slushy. Oh so very good. On the down side it was just brought to my attention that Skittles contain gelatin. Boo for ground up pig and horse hooves. It was my first and last bag, but if you love ground up hooves and tasy carnival flavors I highly reccomend them. I'd say candy apple and red licorice are the BEST!

Last night in a bridge underpass I saw this scrawled across the wall: Love is Real Real is Love All You Need is Love.
It made me smile. C'mon folks seriously all you need is love ... (and carnival skittles) (kidding)

Then today I saw a sign that said: Deliver Goods in the Rear. It made me chuckle (because I am immature like that).

In other news apartment-ing is oh so very frustrating for a multitude of reasons. It doesn't help that I picked up another bad habit: online scrabble. I've played three games already today ... I know it's sad. Check it if you want a new addiction, scrabulous.com

Last night I got to feeling good about this whole distance/relationship deal. Long walks, short piers, and lovely human beings are all very reassuring. I'm nervous, excited, happy, and sad all at once. Wahoo!

All in all, things are moving fast and I'm reading more than I'm writing, which is okay for now. As long as I get a lease signed in the next week, I will be one fantastic gal.

Seriously though, try the skittles.

News, Blues, and other woeities

First off, I'm a little dissappointed G.Keillor. In a recent Salon article, Disaster Belief he writes abut generation Y (that's me) being a bunch of irresponsible lofty dreamers.

"A Harris Interactive poll of Generation Y's feelings about work shows 92 percent want a "flexible work schedule," 96 percent want a job that "requires creativity," and 97 percent want a job that "allows me to have an impact on the world." All I can say is, Wow. Good luck. And now you know why we need illegal immigrants."

A) I thought the bit about illegal immigrants was in poor taste.
but I can't throw any stones about poor taste, SO more importantly:
B) I'm going to tie a red string around my finger so as to make sure, that when I hit the ripe age of fifty I won't spend my days bemoaning about how much harder I had it as a child.

Then Keillor wagged on about how we waste our time watching silly videos on youTube while our immigrant caretakers break their backs in our gardens and toilets.

"meanwhile the young men and women in the cubicles are fascinated by the sex life of gerbils. After work they go to Matt's and drink like the Russian cavalry and get totally blitzed and take a leak in the refrigerator. They are working at Northern Grommets only until Steven Spielberg calls and tells them he is wildly in love with their screenplay. This could happen next week or perhaps in the fall. They are almost 30 but their clocks don't tick yet. Their ship will come and they will buy a house in Pacific Palisades and be driven to the studio every day by Felipe while Maria cleans the house and Ramon does the yard and pool."

Oh Garrison do I detect a sense of bitterness towards a generation that can get both work and play achieved concurrently? What nationality is your gardner mister Keillor? How about the screenplay for your smashing movie with an all-star cast, including everyone's favorite teen hearthrob Lindsay Lohan? Nope, no sir, not anyone has wanted to improve their quality of life like the Y generation, why we're just a bunch of selfish YouTubing oafs.

Or is it that our generation has it, not harder, but much different than any of the generation's past. We have seen the most casual death and destruction, a rise in technology, and an administration of bull-shit. In my oppinion those factors have given way to a rise of confidence in ourselves. We are a generation of "Do It Yourselfers." I'd wager to say independent of the early pioneers we are the most effective workforce that the America's has ever seen. We efficiently whiz through our days at the cubicle so we can work on our popular podcasts, while trying to undo the environmental damage that the last seven decades have enacted, politically blogging and organizing, all while paying off our astronimical student loans. Contrary to popular belief everyone under the age of twenty five isn't sitting around tanked and watching animals copulate on YouTube, while waiting for our friends to pick us up in their Hummers for coffee and some gambling.

While I'm so charged up, The top 10 entirely avoidable mistakes made by the Bush administration. Yea for the internets!

Still in a bit of a funk, but not so much so. The weather is oppresive, much like, oh I won't say it ...

p.s. and by the way: My spell check is mysteriously missing from my dashboard, I expect a few or many misspells. My apologies.

laconic

What is this tormenting and restive feeling? I can't seem to shake it, but I feel a sense of dread coming about. I am my mother's child in the respect that, sometimes I like things just so, and when my hopes are dashed I'm hard pressed to recover.

BaD Habit
That nasty old villain distance is plaguing me once again.

I broke down, couldn't wait for Amazon. Bought a book. Life is more interesting when I'm reading. It's shaping up to be one of those books; You know, the ones that leak their atmosphere into your own. Maybe that's why I feel so weird. I mean it could very well have just been my weekend location, but the foggy nature of the book (Umberto Eco's The Mysterious Flame of Queen Loana) didn't help. I remember when I was studying abroad and reading (one of my favorite books of all time) Love in the Time of Cholera, I got all tragic and romantically wistful about me and Tee's across the ocean relationship. Then I got home and realized if we'd stayed together we probably would have killed one another! It was all the work of the book, keeping some magic alive!

I don't know. Also, it would appear as if my time is moving at a disproportionate speed to everyone elses clock. I feel like I'm Ms. Hurry up and Wait, and then hurry some more.

*Blah

Only Wednesday you Say?

The whole entire year of 2007 has flown by, why is this week taking its wicked sweet time? Oh boo. I've learned nearly a hundred new vocabulary terms this week. I'm sick of it. Ha ha. Those two sentences just sounded awfully boorish. My apologies.

It's just that, my books haven't come in yet so I just sit on the train and review words. I've even taken to playing word games online.

WHO AM I?

I need to get drunk and rowdy. Yeah, that's it. Also, I'm not going to cut my hair, and I've found a temporary urban abode to crash in, fun boys, sure to be fun times. No more waking up at the early cracks of the dawn, now if only the weekend would come quick...

Uh-oh

Tonight I tasted the wonder that is ... tofurkey. Oh my word, how had I not yet tried this delectable treat? Oh me, texture, turkey; taste, turkey; yum factor, totally turkey. After I got off the train from a hard day of work I had a sweet lil' feast waiting for me (thank you big sis).

Also, on a much unhealthier note, I am back on my pop-tart kick. This is the devil's desert. This time it's not even trying to be healthy with a fruit flavor, it's only double fudge tarts for me!

Diabetes HERE I COME!

I think that the Tofurky yoked with the Choco Pop delish launched me into an infinitely more manageable mood than I had been in as of late. Cheers!

I looked around to see if anyone had taken note of the tree. It was in plain site. A hustling business woman passed by without so much as a glance. I rubbed my eyes, just in case; The tiny tree remained. I reached for one of the bite-sized treats. They were real. The citrus aroma lingered on my fingertips. I stood transfixed by the tiny leaves swaying in the city wind. All of a sudden I got quite protective of the little tree. It was a testament to something bigger than myself. I was jostled out of my awe by the low purring of a tabby kitten...

Also I th ink it'S time for another HAiR cut!

I'll Sleep When I'm Dead!

That's supposed to be cartoon me ... dashing no? It is very late (considering I must wake at 5:15), and for some reason I am drinking coffee and messing around on the computer in lieu of sleeping. Man oh man life is really starting to get interesting.

Today I was walking along a city street; The heat was unbearable and so was my attitude. I couldn't stop thinking about the future in terms of the past. My ankles were sore, and my skin was beginning to burn. After I thought that I could take it no more, I came upon the tiniest orange tree I had ever seen. It was growing out of a cement side-walk crack on the corner of Kimball and St. Louis. The oranges were no bigger than my thumb, and the tree itself barely reached my knees. We both got stung by wasps.

Apartment hunting went smashingly. Move-in isn't till the end of time, so I will complain often, but half-hearted. What doesn't kill me will give me plenty of time to read and make me more appreciative of the good times. I just ordered three books from Amazon... a little something to balance out the drone of GRE preparation ... mmm, poetry, time-travel, and dueling with wind mills!

Have I failed to impress you?

I'm having second (and third and fourth and tenth) thoughts about my life as a writer. Maybe I got no business here.

I'm sure of this though, http://www.bringthemhomenow.org, certainly we have no business there. Except maybe for, open-handed nothing in return humanitarian aid.

A system of reference
A sequence of nostalgia
A catalogue of nerves

"she looked crushed under the weight of her impossible love." *



* As She Climbed Across the Table - Johnathan Letham

I'm a bad woman-'Pasadena'

First off, I'd like to say hello to a new reader: Hi Momda, you've stumbled upon my blog. It might reveal a lot about me if you let it but just know I don't filter myself. I write what I feel/experience/imagine, and I certainly don't worry about what others are thinking. You should try it (maybe you already do on pen and paper?). Feel free to poke around, It's nice to have you. Enjoy.

I was once an elitist, there was poison in the well.

Then I let go. Purged the pretensions. Enjoyed Japanther!

In other news check out our tees, The Modern Tshirt Company!
Saw This Bike is a Pipe Bomb last night with the boy. It was grand, I hadn't been in such a lovely ruckus for a long time. It was refreshing.

The wonders of the "El"

I got to sleep in today ... a whole two hours! Seriously it was delightful. 5 a.m. hurts my heart, but 7 is quite manageable. The weather is perfect and I'm in high spirits. The rugrats are sound asleep in the other room. I think we'll go to the zoo today. After work I get to take Miss Owl out for a birthday dinner. Oh joy, one of the luxuries of this thing called money. Oh, I do love treating others. Tomorrow is little sis' 16th birthday party! What an exciting age.

I'm drinking a peculiar orange "drink." It is remniscent of Tang minus all the nostalgia and goodness associated with Tang. A powdered abomination ... It tastes of battery acid. Rememeber the awful Stephen King movie/book IT? " I believe in Santa Claus. I believe in the Easter Bunny. I believe in the Tooth Fairy. But I don't believe in you. This is battery acid. Now, you disappear!" The end of the movie ruined every ounce of bad dreams that clown gave me. I mean c'mon, a claymation spider? Anyway I'm all over the place today, I'll just end with a sample of a little something I've been playing around with:

"Dame un beso." It's Spanish she said staring across the table, "Well aren't you going to ask me what it means?" I shrugged my shoulders, transfixed by the delicate stretch of skin where her ear connected to the rest of her body. "Hello! Earth to Owlsley, it means give me a kiss." I did't care what it meant I just wanted to envelope myself in that fold of skin. I imagine it's the softest thing about her. All I know about Karen is the brief run-down my friend Jen gave me; "Tall, but not a beast, short hair, short temper, red Prius, and she loves latin food. Authentic, not that Taco Bell bullshit."

I narrowed my eyes honing in on the spot. She didn't notice I was scrutinizing the area. I think it might be called the lobe? She had a set of lobes to die for. Our appetizers arrived, soup for her, salad for me. I was momentarily distracted.

Upon finishing my tasty tidbit I focused once more upon her fleshy fixins. The skin was milky white and smoother than a heifer's udder. The skin slightly scrunched when she smiled. Every now and then I nodded politely so as to not seem rude. She continued talking Over the course of my intense and singular scrutiny I forgot that Tam posessed not one but two luxurious lobes.

I wanted to swing from the folds and then spread them out on a grassy knoll for a picnic. I wanted to pepper them with kisses, I wanted to -- "Are you listening to me? The waiter needs to know what you want." I was snapped from my transfixion.

"Uh, sorry good man, what's that?"
"We're out of the mango salsa, so sorry, would you like me to replace it with the small flaps of skin that connects the lady'a ears to la cabeza?"

Did he? Well do I, "I'll take some of that, and give me some grilled tofu smothered in ear lobes as a side dish. Oh I get two side dishes? Then I'll have the baked sweet soft connectors casserole." I nodded my head in delight and the waiter took leave of the table. I wore a dopey grin on my long face.

"Well aren't we hungry? I didn't know you liked sweet soft connectors!" I dreamily nodded my head and reached across the table for a squeeze. "Ouch! What the hell are you doing?"

Ahh yes, a small excerpt from the silly mind of The Last Unicorn. Trash it correct it tell me what you think!
Also I implore you all once more ... I'm getting ready to start the long road to the GRE. I'm serious about it this time folks! Any tips, good books or study aids? Let me know!!!

Pitter Patter Goes My Heart

where to start?

We have learned that humanity can cultivate intellect to an astonishing level of accomplishment without becoming master of its soul.

H.Hesse

I finished reading Johnathan Lethem's As She Climbed Across the Table. It was quite interesting, but I think the prose was a little too flowery for me. Interesting concept though. Check it out especially if you are interested in physics.

Pitchfork was lovely and dusty, and our company did very well. Hipsters are an obnoxious and ugly bunch. Haha. We have tapped our market and we know it well.

I'm writing a series, it is coming together nicely, perhaps I will post a bit soon. I miss the fact that I won't be taking classes this fall. I should make up my own classes.

The commute is killing me. I'm tired all the time. I'm not broke, but who needs money anyway? Woe is me. Okay it is infinitely better than working in an office for the man. I'm working for the WOMAN!

You're a Book to me.

Tonight I realized that I only like driving when I have no place to go. I like to drive with the windows down, the stars and night earth slapping me in the face. I dig the dark cool air, it tastes like dirt pure or something. Tomorrow I must wake up at an unreasonable time. Why am I still up?

Because my right hand is seared with a burn, and my left is sliced from left to right. I think I see my story in the stars. It says don't settle for nostalgia, don't give up, and kiss often and long. I tend to agree.

So tomorrow starts my crazy busy weekend. Should be interesting...

Tick Tick Tick

Frustrated by my physical and creative limitations. Fingers hurt from making.
Feeling lethargic. Cause? Fear under fire. Pressssure.
Today I got turned down by a librarian. What a load. What a spine in my clear pond wading.
All I wanted was some Freud.

Metric, Glass Ceiling
I need more female role models who aren't librarians.

What day is it again?

July, you move me through time and space.

I am starting to compile my fall reading list. Suggestions Suggestions?

Look to the left I updated my links. I am a cyber stalker. Aren't we all? Enjoy.

Stay cool. Drink water. Eat fruits+veggies. Smile it cools you off, I swear.

Two way monologue

It's too hard for me to build castles out of Midwestern ideals. It's a struggle to cultivate grass towers and break glass ceilings. I've seen the future and the past. Oh brother, it's such a gas. Black and singed and ruddy, or maybe washed clean like a ruby in the middle of a field at the end of a coastal spring. I don't trust the magazines as far as I can cut them up and make paper beads.

I could have guessed that would happen, but still it's a little disappointing. But don't paint me that picture, I'm not forlorn. My eight tiny fingers are fat like sausages and stained with the blood of butchered blueberries. I smiled as I squished each one. I can still make a difference. Maybe I'm doing it right now and you don't even know.

I peered into the face of a modern revolutionary with an overstuffed heart. Legos. I've never fit anywhere correctly; But when my grooves and your soft edges connect something happens. Don't ask me what or why or how purple. I don't know. I'm still a little skeptical. All smiles and spread hands, curled toes and inside giggles. But I like it, no I dig it, I welcome it. I think about it midday when somebody is telling me about their new baby or a video on YouTube. Is that rude?

Can it be this lovely for this long and this and this and this? You see maybe the secrets are all unlocked and it's all about this? Maybe you need this to save the world or yourselves or that? Don't you think it's okay for me to change my mind about what I think about fashion and god?

or are those the things that should be set in stone? What do I even know about twill and the holy trinity?

*** This weekend was lovely and weird. I spent time watching the squawk box. Folk music, love, and revolutionaries. I'm confused about how I should live my life. Do I change my world or do I find a sleepy Vermont town that won't accept neo-republicanism as a ruling format? Is it my world to alter? Am I becoming a softy? Where is my gallows humour in the face of soft beards? Why do people get scared(or angry) when I change my mind about things? Is it because I've looked 15 for 7 years? I've accepted change as gain, why won't anyone else?

This week is going to be busy busy busy. I'm broke. Really really broke and somehow I thought it would feel different. Go figure. That concept is not nearly as encompassing as I imagined. This lords and ladies is a lovely revelation! This my dears is a first (ha ha surely not a last).

I am writing and reading regularly again. Can you tell? Can you? All things considered I can't seem to wipe this dopey grin off my freckled face.

No Pressure

Seriously that 100th post was stressing me out. Now I can write whatever the hell I want.

(as if I couldn't before)

I want to go to a place where the winters are warm. I want to squeeze stars in my hands.
I've gotten over the hump. Midsummer I cried for three days straight (this was last week). I thought I'd have to work in an office, I thought that the dark knight of adult-hood was coming to swoop me up. Never to be seen again. But, hey ho-hoorah, I'm here. I still have my baby fat around my belly button and crowning my biceps. I'm still waiting for my flowers of the desert chest to bloom (ACTUALLY, I read that a new clinical study shows that gals can still develop well into their late twenties). Not that I care or anything (tehee). I've rather grown to love my petite jollies.

I just realized that blossom, contains the word bloom, go ahead just remove the esses.
Blossom: The flower of a seed plant, to blossom (intransitive verb) to come into one's own.
Bloom: flower, period of flowering.

I've taken a position as a full-time nanny. Sure I have a degree, sure I wowed the folks at the corporate office, sure it's a pay cut (not by THAT much), but I will be infinitely more happy.
Anyway I'm just biding time until grad school. The woman I will nanny for is lovely and the kids equally so. She encourages me to write, exercise, nap, and eat her food. Chicago Public Library here I come. So that's that. Now that my moral fibers are done being roughed up, I can settle a bit and get excited about what's left of my summer.

oh yes, enjoy the fire in the sky!

100th Post, wahooo

Was the wahoo a bit much? I've spent the last week or so trying to figure out exactly what to write about in my 100th post. After thinking and thinking I had nothing. It led me to the realization that I don't usually approach my blog with a specific topic in mind. That led me to begin thinking about why I keep this blog. Of course that led me to the bigger question: Why Write?

The forms have changed, as have the lingo, but empirically it always comes down to three simple things:

1. Because I want to
2. Because I need to
3. Because I have to

I'm sure that all you who read this blog don't really care that I saw a deer or who I endorse for the presidency. Why would you? I don't lead a particularly exciting or eventful life. Perhaps the traffic to my site keeps increasing because I strive for richness. Not monetary but in my quality of life. I want every moment to count. Every damn one of them. Maybe you all can relate who knows. Or maybe it's just entertaining to see an awkward gal like me stumble through early adulthood! Whatever the reason, thanks for reading, because I really enjoy writing.

This blog helps me to focus my thoughts and wiggle my creative toes. Yeah, sometimes I could use a little feedback on writing and life (don't be afraid to comment!), but on the whole I write for me. I write because if I don't I'll either explode or shrivel up and die. I write for synthesis. I write for archival and nostalgic purposes. Ultimately I write because it makes me happy.

This ol' thing has seen The Last Unicorn go through a lot of changes, the great, the sad, the mad and the embarrassing. I love looking back on old blogs.

I'd like to bring a little bit more creative writing back to my blog. I'd like to bring a lot more creative writing back into my life. Times are funny for The Last Unicorn, but I won't deny the fact that wildlife is attracted to me like flies to garbage. It is lovely and bizarre. So I promise not to account for wild life run ins anymore, it's probably just getting old (NOT TO ME!!!). Maybe if I see a giraffe in my front yard, but anything that is indigenous to the Midwest I will glowingly keep to myself.

Pitchfork is less than two weeks away and moving about a month (hopefully). Holy moly where has the summer gone? Things are changing so fast. I have to throw on my running shoes just to keep up with my own life. I have no idea what the next six months hold for me, it should be quite an interesting ride. I'm excited.

A few things of note:

SOME PEOPLE ARE CUT OUT FOR THOSE THINGS, OTHERS ARE NOT.

PROTON ACCELERATORS CAN BE FUN.

IF YOU HAVE A BIKE, RIDE IT!

WHO REA,LLY CARES' ABOUT PUNCTUATION? A: JERKS.

MAKE FRIENDS WITH IDEALISTS. IT IS PAINFUL AND LOVELY.

I'LL ALWAYS HAVE A SOFT SPOT FOR YOU CONOR OBERST.

ESCAPE YOUR EGO, INVITE IT BACK FOR TEA, AND THEN DRAW UP A GAME PLAN.

STOP WATCHING T.V.

DANCE DANCE DANCE DANCE DANCE DANCE

WHO CARES WHAT THEY THINK?

KIND OF LIKE SMITTEN.

READ READ READ READ READ READ READ

SHOW DON'T TELL.

MAKE THINGS WITH YOUR HANDS

DON'T READ SELF HELP BOOKS!

finally

FREQUENT YOUR LOCAL FARMER's MARKET (mmm)

stay tuned till next time to see if The Last Unicorn can shimmy around for another hundred posts (fade out the clap track).

Privacy Report

I wasn't going to go out of town today. I had decided against it, but today I changed my mind again. I need to go places where people shine a lot (i.e. NOT home). I can keep myself out of trouble. I need to go on adventures. I need new settings to shake things up now and again.

A lot of people are sick around me. I don't know what to do. I try to think positive thoughts and wonder if making them cards with pretty things and encouraging words will help make them feel better. I want my silly cards to make people get better. I want my kind words to heal people's cancers and ugly diseases. I panicked about life the other day. I think I feel better about it all. I still don't know if I am cut out for the real world, but hopefully I can make my own.

Last night I stayed up inconceivably late working very hard. It was fun and felt good. I wish all "work" felt that good. I have mustard yellow paint caked under my nails, I love mustard yellow! I'm really proud of the things that we made. I'm really proud of us.

This morning I have been using the super exacto knife (900 degrees Fahrenheit baby), the hot glue gun, and the pressure washer. These are all dangerous tools ... I came out unscathed.

Whew!

On a heavier note:
I know I am neglecting people and things this summer. It's so hard to get me out and about when I am intensely focused on two or three things. I don't want to be bad at this. Relationships are really hard for me to maintain. Romantic, friendship, familial etc. I always feel like I'm not giving one group or more enough attention. I'm always thinking about the people that I care about, even if they don't know it. I wish I was better at letting them know.

If any of yous are reading this,
I MISS YOU!
I love your guts and you are instrumental in my good health and mental harmony!!
I love you!!!
Even if I disappear for weeks at a time you're still on my mind.

Good News:

1. I'm going on a trip (it promises to be goodtimes).
2. I started writing a new story.
3. I found my favorite (super soft) dress in a box. I have been wondering (not looking) where it was since summer started.
4. We are screening yellow shirts with orange ink, and I love that color combo (pictures soon?).
5. I decided what I want to be for Halloween this year.
6. Tiny Beds.

This week will be quite busy. I gotta stay on top of shit yo!
This song makes me want to dance around, and Devendra Banhart, well just look at the lovely locks ...



Yesterday my Momda asked me if all I ever do is eat, ride my bike, and sit on the computer.
I just smiled bitterly. Some day maybe we'll get to know each other. Maybe someday we can travel to Ireland together. Maybe.

Oh me

I hadn't been in a hospital for a good long while. I am convinced they are time warps.

I am convinced they make well people sick. I don't want to have to spend anytime in there again anytime soon.

I'm sad. I don't know how to climb out of it right now. The thing about the future is you're not supposed to be able to prematurely miss people, yet I do it all the time. I hate/love the fact that I'm nearly convinced if I could climb into his neck and arms right now, I would feel a little better, at least for a bit. Oh well.

Tonight my dad told me, in reaction to me saying he should totally go back to school, "When you get older your dreams tend to die out slowly." It nearly broke my fucking heart. My dad's other dreams the ones that are alive and well ... for his children to make money. I hate money, I really do, but I think I might forgo the not-for-profit job, for something a little more lucrative so I can take my daddy out on dates in classy establishments. At least until I get to grad-school (oh please let me find my way back to academia).

Oh dear, I might just not make it in the real world.

People lead enchanted lives

Not to be confused with, The Velvet Velvet's 2004 release "People Lead Enchanted Lives."
I came up with that title, but he never meant it.
Anyway that was weird. But seriously folks, I think I might be enchanted. In high school I lost my million dollar Ti83+ calculator over two dozen times and every single time it somehow found its way back to me...

Good things are happening, and bad things disguised as good things are happening.

1) I watched a beaver eat delcious grass in my backyard, sorta.
2) I grabbed a string of stars and wrapped them around my finger so I could find the way back home. Or maybe they were fireflies.
3) I am begining to see life in a more patient and beautiful way.
4) I said exactly what I was thinking.

I had a dream that we held hands underwater and swam with the missing otters, I always dream alone, it was nice to have company.

Tonight I watched the movie Bridge to Terabithia. Damn, I had forgotton how gut wrenchingly sad it is, but of course it has a very enchanted quality, to keep with the theme of the night. I hope my imagination never dries up on me, that would be quite a shame.

Today we picked up our first order of t-shirts they are sassy and lovely and I can't wait to splatter our paint on them. Each minute of each day of sunlight that passes I acquire roughly 14,000 more freckles. I am going backwards in time ... weeee!

Yeah C'mon I wanna go right now!

Feliz Dia de los Padres

Senor Unicorn, the hardest working man in the midwest. Possibly the universe. He is honest and just, sensitive and optimistic, silly and devoted, loving and gassy. Most importantly on a day to day basis he puts up with two of the most obstinate women in the galaxy (me and momda).


He also has a killer beard.


He's my daddy and I love him.

All things good and nice

I should be ashamed of myself ... after a wonderful blog note from GSR I haven't written in nearly a week. Well, I've been writing, pages upon pages, but in the old fashioned sense. A million things worth remembering (pondered) are tucked away in my tiny notebook. Life is weird and shapeshifting and unexpected. It's also moving faster than I can nearly manage. I'm still trying to get things figured out for the fall, oh whoa ho what am I saying ... I'm barely getting started figuring things out for right now. Let's take it one season at a time.

gee*

The weekend was absolutely stupendous, I hung out with some amazing people who gave me a snapshot glimpse of what life MAY be like in the fall. I took a lot of good and not so good lessons about living in the city away with me. The rest of the weekend was spent pondering life in a thousand different ways. Everything seems to be working out in ways that are too good to be true. I must say I'm a little skeptical. BUT I won't wait for my good graces to fall out. I can't help but wonder if this summer is enchanted.

This week, I've been doing everything and nothing and thinking about a thousand different glass possibilities. Sigh, what happend to my solitary confinement summer? I've been on the go go go for a week. I must take the time to do the things that keep me internally glued. I'm tired again and it seems too soon. Balance has always been a tough principal for me to master.

But ask me if I'm happy, and I'll smile like a little kid. I couldn't have conceived of a unicorn summer such as this ...

Obviously Five Believers

I'm tired, but in a good way.
Is ambiguity a sign of immaturity?

Somewhere it's not dark, dark, dark!

Tomorrow will be 90 hundred thousand degrees. I plan on throwing off all my earthly posessions and diving into the nearest body of water. LEACHES!

I made a shit ton of lovely today, and danced the rest of the time. Underwear dancing is hot, no matter who you are or what your skivvies look like! Here are some sweet dance super hits that made me moooooove ...


mmmmm, let's pretend we don't exist!


An oldy but a goody, and Kimya Dawson is my model for womanhood!


I love this band unconditionally.


This woman is classy, and I think I learned all her dance moves this afternoon.

I hope you enjoy and want to move yo feet a bit.
I decided to chunk the thought process and go on living my life the way I had been for the past month, so I'm heading out to the city, I do believe.

not having that which having makes me worry. Aye stop making sense and start hugging your friends and enemies.

Mother Knows Best

I'm tired. I was sleeping good up until an excalibur point. I can trace back to the day, exact time, and reason why I began to sleep like a fitful bedbug. Being tired makes me not want to go out and do fun things. A couple of weeks ago I was complaining that "fun things to do" didn't exist. Wrong, but now I'm being a rat. Damn it, if I can't teach myself to forget to think.

Today was long, long. I started out at the hot spot known as the Aurora DMV. The computer's were down and it took approx. 48 hrs to get through the first line for them to tell me to go to the end of the line seven. Upon arrival at line seven they told me that I'd need to take a number and wait in line three, of course, they said I could sit down if I wanted. They didn't need to say it, but I knew we were in for the long haul. So I sat and I sat and sat some more. A younger looking guy sat down beside me and struck up a conversation. I mostly hate non-necessary conversation (for many reasons, but most notably because I'm awkward and my brain hurts from trying NOT to be. Then I realize that I am and my dumb body starts sweating and fidgeting profusely). This guy seemed really pleasant and I was immediately placed at ease. The conversation soon widened in depth and breadth. We began talking about music and realized we were both going to be at a few of the same concerts this summer.

Eventually my number was called and I politely stood and thanked him for the company, as I stood up so did he. He pulled out a pen and asked me for my number. Now I know that this is probably not too common for most girls, but for the last unicorn it is quite uncommon. I just stared at him. Yes, this chap was nice, but I certainly didn't feel comfortable giving him my number; I don't know why, probably some stranger danger lesson my paranoid mother had ingrained in my psyche at an early age. I didn't know what to do, so I guess you could say I caved.

Later in my "adventure" we were once again placed by each other forcing me into more chatting. Somehow the conversation turned to Johnny Cash and then to jail. He asked me if I ever had served any time. Again. I just looked at him. Did I look like the type of gal that had "served time?" After my facial expression made it obvious that I hadn't he volunteered the knowledge that he had in fact "served time" and it wasn't pleasant. I then told him it wasn't supposed to be and made the mistake of asking him what he was in for. Battery. Oh that's sweet. Again some blank face from the last unicorn. Of course he assured me he did not posses a bad temper, he just had to beat the shit out of his (now ex) girlfriend's old boyfriend. What the hell are you supposed to say to that? Also, and more importantly ladies of the internets ... what the hell do you say to males that do the surprise number request?
Moral of the Story: Always trust your gut ... when it comes to anyone at the DMV just say no?

The real kicker of the story is that after leaving the DMV I later noticed that yours truly fucking lost the trip permit that she had waited in line nearly three hours to acquire. Boo Forever.

After the DMV incident I had an unexpected lunch with thewiseone. He's more wise than ever. I detected a subtle change in him, his exterior sadness has moved inward and his inward happiness has become exterior. I don't know if that's a good or bad thing, but he still gives the most lovely hugs of time! Of course the kid is still an enigma wrapped in a miracle. I am continually impressed with the bold choices he makes in living a life that's unconventional. I love that we have the kind of relationship where we can always just pick up where we left off. Some day I'm going to make him my editor, if I ever get around to letting him read any of my work. I could think of no one better. After all he introduced me to the lovely world of Troutfishing in America and Maker's Mark whiskey!

My mind is wrapped up in a lot of thought. My mother has recently spat out many a proverb to me. I don't know. I don't know about a lot, and I sure as hell hate feeling like I'm in emotional limbo. Double sigh. Tonight after I put the kids to bed I watched Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind, I'm sure that didn't help my thinking process. Funny how books and movies can change your very thought patterns.

Funny how one can trick themselves into thinking about something in a very specific way so they don't have to acknowledge something else just to trick there minds into thinking they never thought the original way in the first place. Hoohaa minds are a funny. That probably doesn't make sense to anyone. Actually I'm not sure it makes sense to me. Can you tell I'm in one of those hyper-sensitive meta thinking modes? Dangerous rocks for idealists to traverse...

Anywho last night I spent hours painting the night sky onto a piece of midnight blue card stock. I felt like it was meditation or as close to meditation that my ADHD mind/body could come close to experiencing. Tonight I spent the night with a small child that would not stop eating his boogers.
Care Taker Theater:
Why we just ate, you couldn't possibly be hungry.
But they are good why can't I eat them?
...
Child remove your fingers from your nose.
Why? Why? ooogah chooga bing
Are you speaking a foreign language?
Yes, Spanish.
I didn't know you knew.
sssssssshhhhhhh ka ka ka dooo
(little sister to little brother) Mom told you to stop eating your boogers!
(his response) Mom told you to stop eating MY boogers.
Fine. Let's go to the computer mister, according to kidshealth.org ... He especially hated when I uttered the word cilia. I hope his mum never has to deal with him booger eating ever again. For the record I was a booger flicker and a scab picker, but never a booger eater!

Oh yeah check this guy out, presidential hopeful Ron Paul. He used to be a libertarian and I think I might like the cut of his jib. He voted against the Patriot Act. He voted against regulating the Internet. He voted against the Iraq war. He's all about less government. Though I'm not sure that he supports women's right to choice, which I just can't have.

Regardless being informed is the only way to beat them at their own game kitties!

This is an annoyingly long blog so before I rant some more I'm going to call it all off and go eat Blueberry Poptarts with my big brother. TASTY!

Party Animal and 349 drawings of a lemon.

Had a most lovely weekend. I got to spend a little time with my role model couple. I hope they stay together for forever and a day. I really like both of them as seperate people. They smile a lot and care about important issues, and they love each other in a big huge way. I also chipped two of my teeth dancing. I'm a monster on the dancefloor! Goodtimes. Fate spun me around three times and nudged in a specific direction. It was a release from something that had been filling me up like a balloon.

Summer seems to be setting itself up on that track where it flys by all fast and funky like. It rained and it rained and it rained today, but not in a gloomy way in a, I'm gonna throw buckets of cold streams at you and make things grow kind of way. I dig that.

Now I will be splitting my creative time between making stuff for the festival and writing. That is both good and not so. I wrote a poem, it was rich in mineral metaphors. Interesting, maybe I'll post soon. Maybe instead I'll talk in lateral lines and swim in trout streams.

On this day I'm pretty damn happy.