hmmmmmmmmm.......: October 2005

Sunday, October 30, 2005

god & the veiny boobs: the final chapter

So when we last left the saga of the veiny boobs (read more here and here), the taste of triumph had turned to dust in my mouth when the newly installed fixture failed to light up:



The next day we arose early to keep cleaning and preparing for the party. When I came down to tell Loopy that I was done cleaning my office (must post some before & after photos of that!) we noticed that a miracle had occurred:



Now, in my family and in the religious organization/cult to which my parents used to belong, this would genuinely be considered a miracle.

It would be seen as definitive, concrete proof of the existence of a loving God who shows His infinite compassion and mercy by doing odd jobs around the house to make you feel better.

So what, I ask, would explain the fact that, shortly afterward, there was a “pop” and we beheld the following scene:



What does that prove? That God doesn’t exist? That God doesn’t interfere? Or that God is a sadistic f#%ker?

And... which of these theses is supported by the fact that our dishwasher stopped working just as we needed it to wash the first load of pots & pans from the party prep?

Now, one of my cousins, who is completely ‘round the bend on this stuff, would say that when we didn’t fall down on our knees and praise and thank God for making our light fixture work in the morning, He punished us by making the other one stop working. Then He trashed the dishwasher just to really make His point.

If that isn’t "sadistic f#%ker" in a nutshell, I don’t know what it is. Unless it’s "petulant, spiteful, petty, sadistic f#%ker."

(Come to think of it, maybe that’s where Bush & co get the idea that it’s okay to do stuff like ruining some guy’s wife’s career just because he didn’t toe the party line on invading Iraq. If that’s how God acts, it must be okay for the holy anointed president to act like that too.)

Good thing I don't believe in God. Or this would really be f#%king with my head.

Saturday, October 29, 2005

pretty birdies, mean birdies

While trying to determine if my new, improved, google-proof meta tags are a success, I discovered a REAL birdfarm—in Belgium no less. Check out the pretty pictures...

I also learned that "birdfarm" is a nickname for an aircraft carrier. And that there are a lot of websites where old navy guys reminisce about their careers.


Friday, October 28, 2005

overdue

fyi, if you were here yesterday, Friday's posts have been edited...they were a bit long & rambling...I mean, worse than usual


So I dumped my therapist.

You may remember this post, when I realized that I had a crappy therapist, er, I mean, a therapist who did not meet my current needs.

Here is a small sample of our concluding conversation:

Me: See, I realize I don't have good boundaries with you because, even now, I'm just sitting here worrying about what you think.

Her: Well, here's what I think—

Me: No, I don't want to know what you think. That's the whole point. I shouldn't be worrying about what you think.

Her: Good, very good—excellent boundary-setting. And I respect that. But just let me say one thing...[proceeds to tell me what she thinks]


If you're wondering why I didn't dump her years ago, well, I can't answer that question. If I knew why I do half the things I do, I wouldn't need therapy.

turns out, you can take it back

If you ever make a dumb mistake like mine and want to remove it from Google forever, go here.

new york, new york

So Loopy & I are going to NYC in mid-December, partly for a meeting of the socialist organization to which I belong, but also because—it's New York for chrissakes, do we need a reason?FraWhat's up, Fra?

But now I have one more reason to look forward to it: a special exhibit of Fr@ Ange1ic0* at the Met. He's my Mom's favorite, so I'll pick up some postcards for her, which will make her happy. And he's an interesting guy, poised in between the gothic and renaissance.... The show's review in the Times this morning really whetted my appetite.

Some of you may be envious. Some of you may think I'm nuts. I'm used to that.

I'll always love visiting New York. But would I want to live there again?
Hard to say...

Watching Sex & the City last night made me remember what I love about New York (great food, great places to eat great food, great people-watching, all kinds of interesting things to do anytime of day or night...) and what I hate (shallow self-absorbed people obsessed with fashion and Work).

When I lived there I also became a shallow self-absorbed person obsessed with fashion and work. When I moved to Madison I remember looking at all the lumpy people wearing sneakers and sweatthings, and being utterly horrified at the thought that "no matter what I do, they'll drag me down... within a couple of years, I'll look like that...worst of all, I won't care that I look like that."

I was so right. Hee hee. I should post "before & after" photos.

But now that I'm in the reverse position, I don't want to go back! I don't want to be that awful person again! I feel like I barely escaped without completely losing everything that's important to me. And I mean *everything.*

Loopy says if we lived there again it would be different. We'd know different people, we'd do different things.

I'm sure she's right.

For one thing there's all our socialist friends (whom we only met after moving away!). I'd be teaching, not putting on makeup and a suit and going to work in some corporate hellhole. We'd be involved in activism, union organizing, maybe I'd even find some other activists into meditation. After all, one big reason NYC is so great is that no matter how odd, quirky, or eclectic you are, you'll find people with whom you have something in common.

But the idea of moving back still gives me a sick sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach.



*Why am I suddenly writing like those wacky kids who spend all their time "IMing" and surfing the net via their cell phones? Well, when it comes to being google-able, once bitten twice shy!

Thursday, October 27, 2005

transition



Due to the unforeseen hull breach, I have taken drastic measures. If you are reading this, you already know.

Too drastic, you may say. You may point out that no matter how careful I am, sooner or later, my immediate family (read: my mother) will find out where my blog is and read it.

Well, the later the better. She's already blind in one eye and has a cataract in the other, so time is on my side.

I asked Loopy if that sounded too cold and heartless to put in here, and she said that Mom would actually think that was really funny (I agree—she's got a sick sense of humor that way). So I will leave it.

Now of course I've come over all mushy toward my Mom and think, "it wouldn't be so bad to have her read my blog."

But then I think about how great it's been to post frankly while I'm visiting them.

Obviously, this is a decision I should take time making.

In the meantime, you'll be glad to know I have upgraded my search-engine-evading meta tags. If anyone knows any more besides these:

META name="ROBOTS" content="NOINDEX,NOFOLLOW"
DEFANGED_META NAME="ROBOTS" CONTENT="NOINDEX, NOFOLLOW, NOARCHIVE"
DEFANGED_META NAME="GOOGLEBOT" CONTENT="NOSNIPPET"

please tell me immediately!

The postcard above is from Stella Marrs - check her out (here) - she has some great stuff.

and back to Flickr



taken by Rogiro in Tshwane, South Africa.

His translation: "We do anything in and around the house, what your man doesn't want to do or can't do."

Wednesday, October 26, 2005

apology

I tend to think of this blog as a group email to some friends from college and some in Madison. I put some code in the template that's supposed to make it impossible to find via a search engine—how stupid to think that that would actually work.

None of this is adequate justification for my thoughtlessness in making a crude and thoughtless joke here at the expense of an old, dear friend, who (unexpectedly) saw it and was deeply hurt.

I feel terrible and know there's no way to remedy this situation. Of course I'll apologize directly to them but it might take a day or two to get their contact info; in the meantime I am posting this heartfelt apology here.

I do wish them nothing but joy and am sorry I marred their new happiness by making a stupid joke.

Tuesday, October 25, 2005

Homecoming

Someone just explained the other day what "homecoming" means in terms of a football—it's the last home game of the season. I always wondered. Back in college the alums would always show up for homecoming with their fur coats and cigars and wander around drunk in that rich drunk person way...

Anyway, Ang posted about some guy (someone she dated a long time ago) and how he makes her, or made her, feel like home.

Ang, I know what you mean about "feeling like home."

The first time I was in love with someone who felt like a soulmate that's exactly how it felt. I remember dancing at a school event—she was there with her girlfriend and I was there with my agonizingly unrequited longing—and that Madonna song came on, "I hear you call my name, and it feels like home." That was exactly how I felt about this person, and that became a theme song for that whole bittersweet saga...

I don't want to "rub it in" that I'm all married & stuff (even if we do have to go see our little Italian friend sometimes) but I remember how when I was single I'd get so lonely and this feeling just used to come bubbling up from deep inside—it didn't make any sense but the words, "I want to go home" would just feel like the best expression of what I was feeling. Of course I could be home at the time, it didn't matter, that wasn't what I meant.

Now I feel like I'm home all the time, even when I'm not, as long as I can be with Loopy every day. Loopy is my homecoming.

Sorry to be mushy...

I originally wrote this for Ang's comments, but then decided that I wanted to post it here. Now that I've copied & pasted, I have second thoughts, because the person mentioned above may read it, but never mind. That's not the point.

The point is that eventually you do get to feel like you're home, all the time. Even when you live in a town you don't like and have other problems in your life. There's a haven, a homecoming that you'll find too.

So hang in there. Your turn will come. I promise.

Friday, October 21, 2005

the big veiny boob gets a friend

We decided to install the other fixture. It did indeed grow on me (not literally, Franklin & others will be relieved to know).

It's still not really my thing, but it's such a huge improvement over the old fixtures...nothing wrong with them in themselves, but they don't match our kitchen at all. Plus, the veiny boobs are already bought & they're here—if I just put them up we can be done with this whole long-drawn-out ordeal.

Before installing the second one, I took a photo so you could see the awful "before" and marginally better "after." As well as the hideous chili peppers.



So anyway, I thought, well, now that I have the hang of it, this one'll be a breeze. I know just what to do. Ten minutes, tops.

Wrong.

The box on the second one (light fixtures, like some of my favorite people, have boxes) was totally different. It was about a hundred years older, for one thing, with extra wires and extra nuts (light fixtures also have nuts).

And, the existing fixture had not been installed right in the center of the box, but rather, a weird metal piece held it in place several inches farther out from the wall, which was necessary because otherwise it didn't fit—and neither does the new one.

Great.

So I had to figure out how to rig it to make the new one fit (since of course it's totally different from the old one). I used the weird metal piece in a different way, made an extra hole in the drywall with a corkscrew, dug up a drywall screw holder thingy—it was just crazy.

But a couple hours later, I had it figured out. It all fit together. The screws went in the holes. It was finished.

I rushed back down to the basement and flipped the switch on the fusebox to turn the power back on. And rushed back up to the kitchen to enjoy my handiwork. I couldn't wait to see them—my very own pair of big veiny boobs, casting their warm inviting glow...

But...




Crap.

I guess there was a reason that old light stopped working.

And who would have thought there was a way to make the chili peppers look even stupider??

I should call this post, "the big veiny boob gets a friend and together they torment me mercilessly, mwahahahaha!"

It's definitely time for bed.

Thursday, October 20, 2005

like a big boob....no, like a big veiny boob

Loopy is having friends over this weekend and has been anxious to put new lighting fixtures in the kitchen prior to that, as the old ones no longer work at all. So there has been much sturm und drang about getting new lights, what kind, when, how, etc etc.

Yesterday we finally bought some lights. Today I thought I'd surprise Loopy by installing them while she was out.

The installation process was frustrating and tiresome.

A big portion of the frustration involved feeling around for a hole that I couldn't see, and trying to get a screw I also couldn't see, to go into it. It doesn't just sound like bad sex, it felt a lot like bad sex. Including the eventual aches and cramps in my shoulders.

The drywall crumbling into my eyes was just an added bonus.

Two hours later, I'm sitting here looking at one of them, installed.

My opinion of its appearance is summarized in the title of the post.

It wasn't possible to install it according to the instructions, so I improvised a bit. Thus I am also waiting for it to fall down and/or burst into flames/explode.

On top of all this, it is closer to the ceiling than the old one, which means that the hideous row of stenciled chili peppers that we've been meaning to paint over since we moved in, is much more prominent. So now I really have to paint.

I'm trying to feel optimistic about all this.

I'm sure it'll grow on me... like a big, veiny boob....

Tuesday, October 18, 2005

news and gossip (2 of 2)

Shorter but more dramatic is the news that (apparently after much effort and heartache) Carol M from college and wife Sherry K (actually Carol is now Carol K as well) are expecting a baby! More specifically, Carol is now six months pregnant! Very exciting.

If you didn't even know she was married, here is her wedding announcement from the class notes of 2002 (which came up when I googled her in hopes of a photo). I deleted key names etc. (out of the perhaps misplaced desire for some degree of anonymity which other bloggers seem to be abandoning...) which makes it look like something out of a Bronte novel, but never mind.

Married: Carol M_____ to Sherry K_____ (M.Ed., B________ College of Education) on April 21 in New York City. The guests included woman of honor [Carol's sister] '89; former roommates Jessica B________ and Patricia L_______; [Birdfarm], and Shari B_______ '85, S.D. '98.

The couple live in a small but cozy apartment on the Upper West Side; Carol works on on-line educational initiatives for C_________ University and Sherry teaches pre-kindergarten at R______ S______ Day School. Neither can imagine doing the other's job, though mutual respect abounds. Reach Carol at carol.[formerlastname]@[the usual alum address].


They also were legally married in Massachussetts in 2004 and even made the papers because of it—they were going to challenge NY's refusal to honor MA weddings. I don't know what the upshot of that was.

And that's all the news & gossip I have for you today.

news and gossip (1 of 2)

It's making me very happy to read all about Franklin's adventures at Rhinebeck (a yarn festival of some sort, for those of you fellow non-knitters), which you can read about here, as well as here, and here. (That last link is to someone else's blog, but it has the best photos of Franklin—more good ones are here).

Also for the non-knitters: I followed a link to the blog of one of Franklin's new friends, and found the photo below, which I thought was too good not to share with other non-knitters (of course, the knitters have already seen it in its original location).



Anyway, I just can't get enough of this little story—I'm so glad Franklin had so much fun and made so many friends, or cemented the developing friendships or however he might say it. I dare to think I've seen him that happy once or twice, but I can't think when, and I don't think it lasted more than a few minutes...but now....well I hope it just continues on and on.

Oh, and the best news of all is that he will be illustrating a forthcoming knitting book by a famous and beloved knitting blogger! This is very exciting! It's so funny how this stuff unfolds...

I doubt Franklin ever thought something like this would come of his knitting and blogging! For those of you who haven't seen it, you should also check out his photography website, which is full of breathtaking pix and which, I imagine, would have been predicted to be a more likely source of fame, fortune, and universal adulation than his knitting cartoons! No doubt that too will happen.... but isn't life funny?

Monday, October 17, 2005

ah, nature. enjoying it and/or killing it.

The setting sun brilliantly illuminated all the yellow-green leaves around our house.

There is just nothing in the world to compare to the quality of light shining through leaves, at any season.

Now the sun is down and I can hear an owl hooting around the house. hoot hoot-hoot hoot. Getting ready to eat the mouses.

This morning we got a photo of a deer out by the hot tub.

Nature is just bustin' out all over.

I'll have to call my neighbor and tell him I saw a deer. He just called me yesterday to ask if he can hunt on our land again this year, and I told him sure, but I haven't seen many deer lately.

I don't know if anyone's ever actually shot a deer on our land, since I believe the protocol is to offer a hunk o meat to the owner of the land. The only two people we allow to hunt here (both neighbors) use a friggin' bow & arrow, so it wouldn't be too surprising if they've been standing in their tree stands or slinking through the underbrush for the last five years to no avail.

That's what I'll tell myself, anyway.



In other news, check out my "Flickr badge" in the left column. You can click on any of the little photos to go to its page. Or you can just stare at it as it does its weird little thing... I find it kinda mesmerizing, actually.

needs, wants and desires

Loopy posted about a game where you google "[your name] needs." I am horrified by her #3 and #4 and wish she hadn't put them up there; they give me the creeps.

Nonetheless, I had to get in on the fun.

My hits amuse me because my real name is a place name. So as it turns out:

  1. I need a moratorium on the death penalty.
  2. I need a state-wide organization devoted to biking.
  3. I need a home win tonight.
  4. I need to change spending, budgeting habits.
  5. I need to actively promote domestic and international trade, economic growth, fair competition, and increased profitability for the agriculture and forestry industry. [uh, no]
  6. I need Dawn Staley (I also apparently need Sean Connaughton).
  7. I need more lunatic farmers. [I do!]
  8. I need a constitutional ban to hold homosexual marriage at bay. [Aaaagh!]
  9. I need a leader with guts.

    I also apparently need land grant universities, industry, estate tax repeal, zoos, and a highly skilled work force.

    I had to go many pages before finding a reference that has nothing to do with the location whose name I share:

  10. Birdfarm needs to become an independent person, one whose self-image is not based on her parents’ perception of her, on her classmates, or on the reflected glory of her brother.

Thank goodness I don't have a brother.

Sunday, October 16, 2005

four essential phrases

While trying to figure out how to say "thank you" in Farsi (long story)(okay, short story involving Flickr—see, I knew you weren't that interested), I came across this website, which has four key phrases rendered in "330 languages plus 43 dialects."

The site author says that he used to travel extensively on business and determined that these were the vital phrases that every traveler should know "in as many languages as possible, because you just never know." The four phrases (humorously illustrated on the website—go look) are not at all what I would choose. Maybe the last one. But the others... not so much.

Let's see... I think the vital phrases would be more like:
  • Where is the toilet?
  • How much does it cost?
  • Sorry. [and, knowing me...] Oh--uh--whoops--sorry--oh dear--really, really sorry. So sorry.

and in some countries:
  • Ridiculous! For that price I should get twenty!

And of course, the always handy phrase in every* country around the world:
  • My president is a very bad man. I didn't vote for him. And besides I'm Canadian. Please let me go.**


Anyway, the online Farsi dictionaries will not tell me how to say "thank you" to the person who complimented my photograph (the one at right).

Listings in the online Farsi dictionaries include "thank," "thanker," "thankfulness," "thankworthy," and a few other such, but not "thank you." Annoying.

Of course, with the help of the four essential phrases site, I could tell the person who complimented my photograph, "beman dast nazan anja!" (the fourth phrase)

But I don't think that would be very nice.



In other Flickr news, if you google "Ulu Camii Bursa," my photo is the first hit.*** Try it.

There are a couple other tourist spots (mostly Turkish mosques) whose names, when googled, bring up my photos in the top five.

This frightened me at first, but I'm trying to get over it.




*Yes, every country. You don't believe me? A friend who spent time in Norway described how US tourists were getting attacked and beaten there b/c of Iraq. In Norway, for chrissakes.

**Yes, this is a shameless crib from the t-shirt Franklin described back in August. I wonder if that shirt has the phrase in Norwegian...

***Later that day: now TWO of my photos are the first two hits!! This is really weird. I'm not sure if I want every schoolkid writing a report on Ottoman architecture (okay who are we fooling? but still) to be looking at my photos.... worse yet... oh no... I wonder if there's some way for this to lead to my mother finding my blog???

Saturday, October 15, 2005

two discoveries and a song

discovery #1
Meditation has done great things for my brain, and dare I say it, my heart. But I really am not even a little bit interested in the more esoteric aspects of Buddhism.

If I had had any doubts on that, today's meditation workshop put them to rest.

It started off on the wrong foot for me, with some chanting that was full of references to enlightened beings who were "noble sons of noble families," which just got me thinking about what a great racket they had going in Tibet Tibetan nomads hard at workback in the day—see, rich people are born rich because they were good in a past life, and if you want to be reborn rich in your next life, you'll not only break your back schlepping your yaks back and forth to the salt mines or tilling the barley fields, you'll give most of your salt/barley/yak's milk to the rich lazy bastards so they can sit around breathing all day while you break your back in the aforementioned activities.

Don't get me wrong, I'm not saying the Chinese method of "liberation" was the way to go (seeing as how it involved mass murder and starvation), but I'm not a real big fan of the old way either.

Anyway, back to today's class—after the politically incorrect chanting (which even includes the phrase "golden yoke of your imperial rule")(What can I say—I can't stop being a Marxist just cuz I'm sitting and breathing!)........it alternated between things that I already knew (good posture helps you stay comfortable; focus on your breath) and things in which I had no interest whatsoever (there are three gates to the phenomenal world and three ways of learning the dharma, or something like that).

So..... good to know.

I might give it one last shot with an upcoming event in Chicago, but then again, I might just stick to breathing.

discovery #2
I have never before had a good therapist in my entire life.

"Our little Italian friend" (I don't see why we shouldn't call him that, although of course he is neither little nor our friend, but how could a guy with that name not be Italian?) is a good therapist.

In itself, this is a good thing.

However, it also causes me to realize, for the first time, that in the last twelve years, I have blown a mind-boggling amount of money on people who were either crazier than I, or no more/less helpful than an especially attentive friend and a cup of tea.

Anyone who has a way to make me feel less annoyed about this, please feel free to comment. I've tried telling myself that it's still less $$ than it would have cost to put a child through college (assuming they went to Harvard), or that it's what some people spend on their weddings (if they're royalty), but so far I'm still annoyed.

3. The song.
Tonya's laundry story reminded me of many similar stories from my college years... also, of a song I made up with my dearly beloved college roommate, Amy. (If I have that wrong—which is entirely likely since this is now, what, seventeen years ago, yes we're that old—please feel free to correct me).

Anyway, here it is. Sing it (I insist, sing it right now!)(kidding) to the tune of the Beatles' "Yesterday."

Laundry day
When Holworthy* seems so far away
But all my clothes are soiled with grime and gray
O look at all this laun-da-ray...

Why my clothes aren't dry I ask why,**
but no one knows. (oooo-oooo-oo-oo-oo)
What I would not give at this point
to have my clothes (oh oh oh)


I think there might have been another verse but I can't remember. Anyone else?



*esoteric Hahvahd reference... location of laundry room in the Yahd.
**universal reference...you know, when you feed more & more quarters into the dryer to no avail...

Friday, October 14, 2005

more Flickr fun


Pride London March
Originally uploaded by THX 1981

Ella es la lesbiana
Originally uploaded by Gabby de Cicco


War is Indecent
Originally uploaded by digitalgrace


That last one reminds me of a poster that says, "Why are we more comfortable seeing two men holding guns than two men holding hands?" Indeed. Why do people think it's fine for children to see horrendous violence, but one glimpse of Janet Jackson's breast and whoa, they're scarred for life.

Note also the goatee on the person holding the poster. Hee hee. Take that, boobaphobes.

your opinion?

So... you remember how Loopy won the door prize and we had picked out a sweater to make...

But then Loopy saw on one of her lists, someone who has made a gajillion Dale sweaters said that Sirdal was the easiest/funnest (should be a word). I found a picture of Sirdal...



I love it!!! But, I wanted black instead of white. So, through the magic of Photoshop, I made it the colors I want it to be.



Whaddya think?

Then I started to wonder if we should leave off the ribbon and use black buttons... more New York, less Norwegian... I'm remembering how, when I first came here, it took me a while to get used to the Norwegian sweaters; I thought the buttons and ribbon looked strange at first.

Here's what it might look like, more or less:



More New York? Or just more boring?

I'm seeking opinions. I have no fashion sense or taste whatsoever. In case that's not already obvious.

I'm especially seeking the opinion of those of you who still live in a city (since I hope to return to one eventually!) and of course, people like Ang who may not be New Yorkers but have great taste/style.

Another possibility would be to try to find some Dale ribbon that was a different color--I think I used to have a sweater with black ribbon on it.

Any thoughts?

Compliments on my "mad skills" in Photoshop are also welcome. ;-)

Wednesday, October 12, 2005

more baby pix

Nadine with her baby and Nadine's father's mother, i.e. her Chinese grandmother, in Singapore. What a great shot! Click to see a larger version and to see more pix of Alexa...



Now if only some of my other friends with children would start their own Flickr sites! RHR, where are you?
Today I just felt sad. Why... is a long story. But it didn't help to be working at Rainbow and have (1) some nun on the radio telling us in great detail about her horrendous torture in Guatemala in the 80S (with the interviewer repeatedly saying, "can you tell us more about that?" -- I'm thinking, "how about you skip that part?" !!!) and (2) Allen going on & on about the friggin' avian flu and how we're all going to die. If we're all going to die, why harp on it? Who wants to spend their final weeks being depressed and anxious about impending death?

Allen. That's who. *sigh*

But anyway I was walking down the street with, I'm sure, some kind of odd look on my face. I passed Lisa Link Peace Park, which as any Madison denizen knows, is a hangout for all kinds of people who seem to jsut pass the time hanging out, all the time. Not that that's necessarily a bad thing.

Anyway, as I walked past, this old Black man suddenly said to me, "And how was your day today?" I was surprised, but his face was genuinely...something. Genuinely genuine. Not exactly caring, but not mean--he didn't have an ulterior motive, he was just passing the time, and he wanted to know something--maybe he just wondered how I would respond. That was kinda interesting, and I became curious to know how he would respond if I responded.

So I said, "Crappy, how was yours?" I don't know what he said--I guess I didn't do him the courtesy that he did me, of actually paying attention to the answer--all I remember was the last thing he said, which was, "get some rest, okay?"

It didn't "make my day" or anything. But it felt like gave me a teaspoon of humanity and compassion and it surprised me, made me open my eyes and look around.

It seems odd to end the story there, but there's really nothing else to it. It was an unusual experience and I just felt like writing it down. Partly because it reminded me that maybe I could do that for other people. Just a moment of genuineness, slice through all the BS for a second... it's like a good deep breath, clears your head a little.

Monday, October 10, 2005

"hey Lovey..."

Me: "Did you see my loving tribute to my lovely wife on my blog?"

Loopy: "Crud."

Me: "Well, that was the title, but did you see where I talked about how nice you were to me yesterday?"

Loopy: "It said 'crud.'"

Me: *sigh*




In other news of my lovely wife being wonderful beyond words, aforementioned wife won 10 balls of Dale Heilo yarn at our favorite yarn shop, The Sow's Ear. We went there tonight to pick it up. It's this color:

color #4137


which is just gorgeous!
So we bought this pattern (right) and Loopy will knit it for me after Christmas!!!!! For a second color we're trying to decide between black and gray... I'm so excited!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Oh and yes, I'm feeling much better today--I called my doctor & she told me to come in & she put some painful drops on the canker sore & then it was totally painless!

Ok Ok back to what I'm supposed to be doing.

Sunday, October 09, 2005

crud

I like that word. Sort of a cross between "crap" and "thud." A good descriptor for my day today.

We've been doing housework on Sundays recently. This weekend I decided to start housework on Saturday so that (1) I'd have two days instead of just one and (2) I wouldn't have to spend Saturday dreading Sunday and (3) I might even finish early on Sunday & have time to play.

Somehow it all went wrong, not sure how. I just felt cruddy all day today. Maybe I'm coming down with something. Maybe it's the big ol' canker sore in my mouth--I get those sometimes and they are so &$#@#%ing painful!!!!! I don't know how people who live in constant pain stand it—I get incredibly glum and grumpy when I'm in pain. Plus I hate these things, not only am I in pain but I can't even eat!

Loopy took pity on me and made me a really delicious thick soup out of leeks, squash, potatoes, carrots and chicken broth. It's great & doesn't hurt my mouth. Well, not much. But I can only eat a little at a time, but by dinnertime I was so hungry, I spent hours eating a little at a time. It was depressing. I've been kind of in a daze all day. I don't know.

Maybe it's lack of exercise. Lack of discipline. Lack of meditation. Lack of something. Maybe it's just a mood. I know I had all kinds of smart things to say last week about discomfort and pain and blah blah blah. I have no idea what I was talking about and all I can say is, I hope I feel better in the morning.

On the plus side, we saw "Serenity" for the second time last night. I really like that movie! You may laugh, but one of my favorite things about it is how they talk. "I ain' had nothin' twixt my nethers in more'n'a year 'twarnt run on batteries." Samantha Jones meets 17th-century sailor.

The best thing about today was that Loopy was really sweet and took good care of me all day, and didn't get mad even when she was doing all the cleaning and I was wandering around in a daze. So now I can beat myself up with the accusation that I was just moping in order to be taken care of. As if that would be the worst crime of the century.

Kitchenfull of dishes, hot tub cleaned & refilled needs chemicals, blah blah blrug.

Crud.

Friday, October 07, 2005

Our Wedding Night

another blast from the past, to offset all the seriousness.



Click on the photo for a bigger version.

I'll explain the bizarre scene later.... til then, perhaps those of you who were not present can enjoy hazarding guesses about what the heck is going on in the picture, and why?

the object

"Even though the bewildered mind is untrained, it is already meditating whether we know it or not. ...Whatever we're doing...we're always placing our mind on one object or another. For example, ...[often] the object of our meditation is 'me.'"
--Turning the Mind Into an Ally
Sakyong Mipham


Today I noticed that my usual object of contemplation—the one that continues all day long, whenever I'm not making an effort to do something different—is either "I know" or "I'm right."

This was distressing, because, even though the lovely Loopy seems to be under the delusion that I can be stubborn and myopic as hell, I like to think of myself as such an open-minded, kind-hearted, generous-spirited person.

But I noticed that as I walked along idly thinking about various things—first about a dear friend who is stuck in depression and anxiety, then about teaching and some useful strategies in the classroom—that all this was a meditation on "I know" and "I'm right."

As in, I know exactly what my friend should do to feel better and when I get a chance I'm going to tell him, and I'm right about teaching and what the hell is wrong with all those other racist idiots who think they're teachers?

*sigh* They said this might happen—that when we start to try to see things clearly, we might start to see ourselves clearly and maybe we wouldn't like that so much.

They also gave us an antidote: loving kindness. The more we can accept our failings with loving kindness, the more we can do the same for other people.

I'm working on it.

I'll let you know how it goes.


For those of you with zero interest in all this introspection, I've decided to provide more Flickr photos (other people's that is) for your entertainment. Sometimes they'll be relevant to the post, sometimes not. YMMV. Enjoy.

Thursday, October 06, 2005

oh my god, we were so young!

While digging in the photo album for the previous post, I came across many shocking reminders of my erstwhile youth and advancing age... including this one:



Take a good look, in case the now-famous personage in this trio threatens to sue me & I'm forced to take it down. (Trust me, even back then when we were all young & suicidal, he was gorgeous—this photo doesn't do him justice.)

But seriously folks, this is me at 22 and Loopy at 28...four months and a few days after we started going out, or more specifically, January 1994.

What were we thinking? Those people are obviously too young to get married!!!

And yet, look at those faces.... aw gee.

Guess I shouldn't be giving my niece such a hard time about her plan to buy a house with her boyfriend. She's already a couple years older than I was when I moved to New York with Loopy. *sigh*



P.S. I believe that this photo dates from the era when Loopy had started trying to break me of the habit of tilting my head in photos.

As I recall, I thought it made me look sweet and winsome. Loopy thought it made me look dippy. Perhaps that's all the same thing.

Anyway, in the photo album a lot of the photos from around this time have me (and others) exaggeratedly caricaturing the head-tilt. I believe here Joel & I are both doing so, which accounts for...well, many things actually.

my favorite things about eclipses...

I was indulging my Flickr habit today & came across some cool eclipse photos.

A long time ago—twelve years ago in fact because it was the year Loopy & I got together—there was a partial solar eclipse in Bisbee, Arizona.

We drove down from Tucson, where we were living at the time, with my Dad and Mina, a good friend from Japan.

You always see eclipse photos in books and on TV, etc., but there were two things that surprised and amazed me about the real live thing.



First, as above, there were little crescents everywhere!

Why? Well, you don't ordinarily think about it, but when there are dappled shadows (like with leaves), the light is actually in the shape of little circles, because the sun is a circle.

When the sun isn't a circle... tah-dah!!!

COOL, huh????


Second, when the sun is right at the edge of the moon, you can see the mountains on the moon! Click here to see...

Isn't Flickr great? I don't have to find & scan my own photos of these events... you can enjoy other people's!


But thinking of that day makes me a little sad...makes me miss my Dad.

It hardly seems possible that he could have found out about the eclipse, planned & organized our trip and driven us down there. I'm glad, remembering that yes, he used to be like that—full of fun ideas and eager to make sure everyone has a good time.

*sigh*

I dug up a photo from that day after all...



<<<My Dad being a goofball, with the solar eclipse projected onto his shirt.



(Some scientific type person had it set up to be projected onto a white screen, so we could watch it safely without burning our eyeballs yadda yadda, but the darn eclipse just dragged on and on and after a while everybody got a little punchy).

I should take this photo next time I go see them... he'd probably get a kick out of them even though he wouldn't remember...

It makes me glad that he's still alive, even though he's half in a dream all the time. He still acts like a big goofball, teases me or Mom and laughs like crazy.

*sigh*

Wednesday, October 05, 2005

happy happy joy joy

Our new rice cooker! We are ecstatic.



This is our third rice cooker.

The first one was inherited from Japanese friends who went home. It served me well for many long years...college friends may remember it (as it will always remember (tho never tell) whoever it was who scratched the hell out of the formerly non-stick surface while it was living at 14 Endicott Ave in the summer of 1991).

But finally, it started burning the rice, and then the foot broke. I propped it up for a while but had to give in.

The second one was a dud—Cuisinart. What were we thinking?? Always boiled over, rice always hard or mushy...glad to be rid of that one!

But this one.... ah.... bliss.

It uses some kind of fancy-shmancy magnetic induction cooking process (???) which causes every grain to come out perfectly.

And, as you may be able to tell from the photo, it has a bunch of different settings, for brown rice, white rice, sushi rice, etc. and within that you can specify if you like it slightly firmer or softer!

Right now, it's on the "timer" setting. This promises that we will have freshly-cooked brown rice when we wake up at seven tomorrow morning. I can hardly wait.

It really is ridiculous how happy this makes us.

Its name is Rosie.

does my hair look ok? am I a good person?


Being preoccupied with our self-image is like being deaf and blind.

It's like standing in the middle of a vast field of wildflowers with a black hood over our heads.

It's like coming upon a tree of singing birds while wearing earplugs.

-- Pema Chödrön
When Things Fall Apart

Monday, October 03, 2005

what is she doing on Monday nights anyway?

I posted last week about how I was making some very slow but still perceptible progress.

I've made some more since then. Today I finished the main part of the first thing I needed to do. There's more to do, but I feel pretty optimistic, because this slow but perceptible progress continues.

I have tried to do a number of things (career-wise) in my life but always came up against this same obstacle, this same mental block, after a while. In all previous attempts I have just said "to hell with it," and gone on to something else. But teaching is different. I really want to do it.

So I have been determined to figure out how to work my way through this obstacle. Not dodge it, not trick myself out of it, not fix it with a band aid, but work through it, because I'm sick of allowing my life to be limited by it. I don't know what to call it, but it's real and it's there.

A BIG part of this work is my attempt to develop a new relationship with work, a new model of what it feels like to work (posted about this before last April).

I've been trying to undo my old m.o., where I have a war in my head between an abusive authority figure ("get your ass in that chair, you lazy selfish spoiled brat! what the hell is wrong with you? you're ruining our whole life!") and a rebellious child. ("NO! I won't and you can't make me! I hate you!")

(This used to work for me as long as I just obeyed the abusive authority figure. College friends will remember me whipping myself into a frenzy every semester. But once I stopped being willing to endure the self-inflicted cruelty, I stopped being able to accomplish anything, because I didn't have another way to even say to myself that it was time to work.)

The agonizingly slow but definitely perceptible improvement is, I think, largely attributable to a couple of things. (1) The use of a bunch of different techniques to reduce my anxiety level (relaxation, EMDR, etc.) and (2) All this Buddhism stuff I've been reading lately.

Specifically, the Buddhism stuff takes a completely new approach. Ang asked a while ago what I'm doing at "meditation" on Mondays, so I'm going to try to describe one aspect of it.

Therapy, psychiatry, addictions all take the approach of trying to fix something—trying to make discomfort go away, trying to be/feel better.

Buddhism says that that's impossible, basically. Sickness, aging and death (along with disappointment, embarrassment, frustration, headaches and other unpleasant experiences) are inevitable parts of life.

That sounds really gloomy, I know—I tried to talk to Loopy about it a couple days ago and she looked at me in alarm—"What, are you turning into Sylvia Plath??!?" Well, it's not saying that there aren't a lot of pleasant experiences too!

But the paradoxical thing is that this perspective is extremely helpful and even relaxing.

The idea is that when we fear and avoid discomfort, we are acting as though we are too weak to handle it—as though we won't be able to endure it. Essentially, we are teaching our animal brain that pain and discomfort are like death, and that at any sign of them, we have to run, or hide, or Do Something to block the feeling.

So we feel weaker and weaker, and our "comfort zone" gets smaller and smaller until we can hardly move for fear of feeling pain.

It's conditioning, like with Pavlov's dog.


But that's good news. My anxiety isn't a Character Defect. It isn't a DSM Diagnosis. It's just training. So there can be re-training.

And the re-training is simple, tho of course not easy.

When I'm uncomfortable, that doesn't mean that anything is wrong. I'm not about to die. So I don't have to react with panic and fear and set about in a frantic attempt to grab something that will make me feel better. Instead I can just be uncomfortable.

This gives me the space to look calmly at the situation and, if there's something I should be doing differently, try to do that, but if not, then just accept that the situation is uncomfortable. (Anyone reminded of the "Serenity Prayer"?)

So I'm teaching myself that discomfort (even pain) is not unbearable, and that I am strong enough to endure it. To do that, I have to practice not giving in to compulsions—the compulsion to stop work and go play with Flickr, for example, when I start to feel discouraged. I have to practice experiencing discomfort and not running away from it.

So that's what I was describing doing last Tuesday—practicing not running away. It was really great to find that I could actually do that. I didn't put the feeling into words then, but looking back I felt incredibly victorious.

But to do that, to stay in the uncomfortable situation, I have to stay in the present moment, stay mindful.

That's what meditation is for—to practice enduring when we feel like escaping, and to practice staying in the present moment when we would rather start thinking about yesterday, tomorrow, anything else but now. To practice sitting in one place when our brain is saying, "this is stupid, this is boring, I've had it, I give up."

It involves silly little things like not scratching an itch (during meditation). It's called "refraining." Just refraining from scratching the itch, noticing that I feel like "I can't stand it, I have to scratch!!!!" and still not scratching. And eventually, I realize that my brain was lying to me when it said "I can't stand it!" Because I can. Whaddya know.

Oddly enough, it seems to work. Over time, the bigger "itches," like "this paper sucks, I can't stand writing it, it makes me feel stupid, I have to go do something else!" can also be resisted.

I don't know if I'm explaining it well, but anyway, it works for me.

Sunday, October 02, 2005

nina's party

So, after much deliberation, and perhaps some trepidation, Nina had a party.

Wow.

First, her new loft is incredible. At first I was expecting some silly Madison-y thing. Then when I saw the outside I was expecting a New Yorky thing. But it's neither. It's its own thing. Which is extremely cool.

Second (this should have been first, but the short one goes first, I always think) the food was absolutley amazing.

I don't know a lot about food (epistemology, nomenclature or anything else) but I know what I like, and what I like is apparently Nina's specialty—viz., extremely fresh flavors blended in such a way that each flavor sets off the others to its greatest advantage--without losing its personality or becoming totally subsumed into the whole.

I could rave about every course of this elegant, tapas-style offering that was truly an offering of the heart. But I'll zero in on my absolute faves, while reiterating that this is not to disparage the other items! If I weren't still drunk I'd write about every single one!

I looked forward to the figs from the moment I heard about them. The figs delivered. And then some. I think I ate at least fifteen. I'm not exaggerating. I spent the whole first half of the party calculating as to whether a decent amount of time had elapsed—whether it would be too piggy to take some more figs. Luscious. Mmmm.

Then, the roast beef & home-made wasabi. Wonderful. Perfect combination. Love that "fusion" thing! Work it girl!!!!!!! I had about six of those. Despite the burn.

And my final favorite had to be the amazing pear berry tart thing-a-ma-jig (did I mention, I don't know from nomenclature?).

The berries were perfect, sweet and tart as berries should be, but the pears were ***phenomenal***. The berries ended up being an exquisite foil for the most delicious pears anyone ever ate.

Ever.

I mean it.

Don't argue.

Could you ever have imagined the *berries* setting off the *pears* instead of vice-versa? Can you believe it's possible? Well, it is and oohhhhhhhhhhhhh, was it ever scrumptious. I had four helpings of that.

Yes, I'm a pig, shut up.

But even better than all the food was being able to see Nina somewhat settled in her new place, somewhat more at peace with herself.

And to see all the friends she has around her. It was so clear that everyone was there not just for the food (though of course that was appealing to say the least!) but because they all love Nina and want her to be okay, and want her to know that they love her. I felt good for her, knowing she was in such good hands.

Thank you Nina for including us among the "assorted odd types." An honor and a pleasure. And best of luck to you in your new place!

war is not healthy...

This is horrible and sad.

Apparently, US soldiers are trading photos of mangled Iraqis for access to a Dutch porn site. The guy who posted this story on his blog did a lot of fact-checking and it looks like it's for real. Read the full story here.

He writes very well about it. He does have some of the photos posted, with the gory bits blocked out, which is good—you can definitely get the idea, but aren't distracted by the awful details.

I'm not sorry I clicked, because as he reminds us, this is the cost of war and we should know about it—this should be in our heads, firmly, if we ever toss about some glib idea of...well, of violence in general, or particular acts of violence such as assassination, war, revolution, whatever.

I have been a confirmed non-pacificist for a while now but these pictures demand that I re-evaluate.

Is there any cause worth creating these scenes for?

Maybe. Maybe not. But we must, we must understand the cost. I urge you to look at this link.

The blogger reminds us that, if this is upsetting for us, what must it be like to be living over there? as a soldier or a civilian? to be seeing these horrors on a daily basis?

The "trophy winner smiles" of the US soldiers are as horrifying as the bodies/body parts they're holding or pointing to. In fact, looking at the "censored" photos highlights these young boys' faces all the more.

These guys have lost their souls and probably their minds as well.

It's just very very very sad.