tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-184144982008-07-23T21:17:37.439-07:00inghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03877741066021169188noreply@blogger.comBlogger171125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18414498.post-50057247099391764372008-07-20T19:39:00.000-07:002008-07-20T20:17:34.500-07:00

I had my improv class today, and it's funny how just by staring into someone else's eyes while you and that other person take turns making up a story — by listening intently and building on what the other says — you can suddenly experience a strong liking for that person, and then it's easier to remember their name. In my class we're doing all kinds of exercises that are meant to get us to

inghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03877741066021169188noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18414498.post-30339983381775136622008-07-17T23:44:00.000-07:002008-07-17T23:45:26.307-07:00

you're reading this right now, aren't you?!? I see you! I see you reading my blog, David!

inghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03877741066021169188noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18414498.post-80156655818679918732008-07-13T16:34:00.000-07:002008-07-13T18:59:57.612-07:00

Last night after work my housemate and I went to Zam Zam's, and we started talking about dating. Each of us has been doing lots of it, but neither of us can find someone who seems like they're going to stick, though we've been trying to keep the best ones around as friends. My housemate's experience is, I think, typical for men: most of the women he dates eventually wind up wanting something

inghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03877741066021169188noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18414498.post-51517771815087763982008-07-10T21:29:00.000-07:002008-07-11T20:45:06.347-07:00

Isn't exercising supposed to make one more calm and more . . . uh . . . centered? Because on Monday I started exercising hardcore, and I don't think it's made me any nicer. In fact, I think I'm more of a jerk. This one yoga teacher of mine likes to begin each class with a "lesson" that she revisits thematically during the class. I suspect that she just barely remembers this theme until the

inghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03877741066021169188noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18414498.post-51030748984527696862008-07-06T12:48:00.000-07:002008-07-06T14:39:36.436-07:00

Very early this morning, when I was in bed, my night-owl roommate sent me a link to a blog called Literary Makeovers!!! It appears the blog's author read this article about how Wordsworth Editions, a publisher that does inexpensive reprints of classic books, decided to photoshop Jan Austen's portrait to make her less dowdy. Here's the original portrait of Jane Austen: Here's the Wordsworth

inghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03877741066021169188noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18414498.post-38527028929853358342008-06-27T10:11:00.000-07:002008-06-28T19:27:45.007-07:00

Today (Friday) I'm sad. Gina is leaving. On Wednesday Gina and I made dinner for a gathering that included just a few of my favorite people. I wondered what it would be like to have them all around me at once. I guess at this point I'm creating a family in whatever way I can, if I can, and some of my friends live far away. But sometimes my heart feels like it could contain the ocean, there's

inghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03877741066021169188noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18414498.post-37489838433866646172008-06-22T23:19:00.000-07:002008-06-23T08:51:39.814-07:00

because I am plumb worn out, and very distracted: there are so many great little shops in my neighborhood, independent businesses owned by extremely nice people who know everything about the Haight. This weekend I've had a number of lovely conversations with complete strangers. Gina is here, and she, my roommates, Matty and B, and my quietest friend down in Berkeley - everyone's been so lovely to

inghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03877741066021169188noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18414498.post-24642279696302518372008-06-19T20:16:00.000-07:002008-06-19T20:24:06.090-07:00

Lately, my life has been the best life ever! I don't envy anyone. Not one person. I'm not an envious person in the first place, but things are going so well, I can hardly believe it. Yes, I know this could change at any moment. But I hope my days and nights keep going this way for just a while longer. Of course, I haven't unpacked a thing and I don't have any idea where my socks are. I got

inghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03877741066021169188noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18414498.post-22343549829803015962008-06-11T17:36:00.000-07:002008-06-11T18:39:16.144-07:00

right now, and I think things are starting to look up. Whew! Finally! I had this dream the other night (I've dreamed it before), and I'm pretty sure it's a good-luck dream. In it, I have a baby. Which I don't think is something I've ever really wanted, but in the dream I feel so great. Sometimes I can't tell whether it's human or whether it's a kitten. Either way I gave birth to it, and I am

inghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03877741066021169188noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18414498.post-54958734896761746102008-06-08T22:06:00.000-07:002008-06-09T18:26:44.994-07:00

of packing. I'm soooooo close! My apartment is full of boxes, coat hangers, dust bunnies, and papers. The moving truck shows up on Sunday, and I have yet to call the power company and my DSL provider and my parents back in Washington. I spent Saturday night at the new place with T, who's going to be a first-rate housemate. She made noodles. Yum. The other housemate, S, is sweet and considerate

inghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03877741066021169188noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18414498.post-38994433026962403222008-06-03T20:54:00.000-07:002008-06-04T17:33:30.501-07:00

Oh my god, I own an iron. I even have a drill. No way! I found this great old purple sweater I'd sort of written off. It's a turtleneck my mom sent me (I look ghastly in turtlenecks). I have brass polish, for some reason, and a ton of candles, and incense. Wow. Does anyone living in the area know of an independently-owned place run by a really nice person who could use the business? I have a

inghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03877741066021169188noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18414498.post-77683899218684524562008-06-02T17:46:00.001-07:002008-06-02T18:23:15.433-07:00

Okay, I said I was going away for a while, but I dunno, now I feel like I'm cheating. I'm super busy right now - I'm moving in less than two weeks, and my favorite ginafriend is coming to visit for a week, and Matty is back in San Francisco, and then there's the extra shift at the bookstore - achtung, I have soooooo much to get done, and I don't mind it at all. I've signed up for an improv

inghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03877741066021169188noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18414498.post-7218332444464787522008-06-01T09:14:00.000-07:002008-06-01T09:23:19.288-07:00

for a little while, because right now I have a lot of loose ends to tie up. I hope things are going well! Bye!

inghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03877741066021169188noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18414498.post-49406727362310859912008-05-29T21:51:00.000-07:002008-05-29T22:08:27.849-07:00

Today I found out for sure that I secured my new place. I'll finally have the room to set up my sewing machine, and I'll have a patch of ground in which to plant giant flowers, and space to set up a writing desk, and huge bay windows, and a little fireplace. Oh, a record player – this place has one! This is a strange transition. I'm about to shed something that needs shedding, and to create

inghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03877741066021169188noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18414498.post-10951884265807145692008-05-27T20:53:00.000-07:002008-05-28T07:18:53.500-07:00

Woah, woah, woah. Screeeeeeech (crunch). I've met a number of people since I left my wedding dress on a hanger and ran off to San Francisco. It's been confusing, because I think I know people, and so I create this schema to explain why they do what they do, and then they say or do something that doesn't quite fit the schema, and then they become different versions of the same people. Which

inghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03877741066021169188noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18414498.post-41936833072597039442008-05-26T21:21:00.000-07:002008-05-26T21:48:28.508-07:00

I had a long & interesting weekend. On Friday I fed some dear friends in Oakland, and I the next day at work I may have won someone over. A peripheral friend came in with a map and showed me the location of the Santa Cruz Mountain wildfire (the house I used to own is still safe). I met someone who might turn out to be a new friend, and I went for a walk with a friend whose company I enjoy very

inghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03877741066021169188noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18414498.post-51098499192835783212008-05-19T17:33:00.000-07:002008-05-19T22:13:14.569-07:00

and that is the good news. I'm looking on the bright side, and wow! But why, why am I so grateful to Jesus? To be honest, I am not grateful in the least. I am angry and bitter and full of pessimism and fear. Because this morning on the way back from the mechanic's, sporting an expensive new back bumper & taillight and so forth, guess what Jesus decided to do?!?!? He decided to get me in another

inghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03877741066021169188noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18414498.post-85652383822819099572008-05-18T11:13:00.000-07:002008-05-19T22:26:14.935-07:00

On Friday, my coworker explained to me how if there was an emergency, she'd absolutely save her children and husband before she'd help anyone else. "Isn't that normal?" she asked me. "To favor your husband and family, the people you love the most?" I told her yes, that it's natural selection at work. If there's a meat shortage, I told her that I expect she and her loved ones will cannibalize me.

inghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03877741066021169188noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18414498.post-22230501972552732992008-05-16T23:10:00.000-07:002008-05-16T23:51:43.039-07:00

Dunno why, but tonight I felt like writing couplets (or maybe I mean two-part poems), just for fun. It's been a long week. My mind is so tired. Sometimes I enjoy being all by myself My bulletin board, my shoes on their shelf These days I'm thinking about other people, Which makes them more difficult to understand. In some places, springtime announces itself; oaks in the valleys, snakes in

inghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03877741066021169188noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18414498.post-32573730703781395322008-05-09T23:38:00.000-07:002008-05-09T23:44:31.263-07:00

if everything could settle down for a year and we could all relax, go to work, come home, make food, read, sleep, get up, listen to music? Wouldn't it be nice to spend the weekends gardening and doing yoga stretches and writing and petting dogs? Sometimes we'd hang out with a friend, and sometimes we'd hang out with another friend, and sometimes we'd spend time alone, maybe drawing or making soup

inghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03877741066021169188noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18414498.post-28273516987862608782008-05-04T15:51:00.000-07:002008-05-04T16:07:39.701-07:00

Yesterday I woke early to a muffled, ingratiating tune that drifted from across the hall, pounding at my door with wet oven mitts. Though I couldn't discern the lyrics, I could tell from the eager beat that the vocalist wore lots of makeup and wanted to help. Soft Christian rock, so precious it's lewd, at a time if day when all decent Christians are still in bed. I turtled my head under the

inghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03877741066021169188noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18414498.post-67921171217564204492008-04-29T22:47:00.000-07:002008-04-30T06:43:39.144-07:00

Today my luck did a 180, and the cotton in which I am shitting is really super tall. Because this morning as I was headed down the front stairs to run to the BART station, I felt something cold fall down my collar, and then I discovered that a key had dropped into my shirt. Thinking maybe someone on a higher landing had dropped it, I examined the space above me, but all I saw was the clapboard

inghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03877741066021169188noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18414498.post-46893796921067769982008-04-26T00:43:00.000-07:002008-04-27T08:27:46.055-07:00

does bad luck go on for seven years? Sheesh. I was in an accident tonight and my new car is no longer new. Damn. I thought I was scraping by, and this year so far has proven that shit continues to happen. My problem: I am way too idealistic and too romantic for these times. Life keeps beating me down. Nobody was hurt. I'm looking for a second job on the weekends - they might take me back at

inghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03877741066021169188noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18414498.post-80383915576525368032008-04-23T21:58:00.000-07:002008-04-24T07:42:46.996-07:00

Sometimes I'm glad I never had children because children grow up and make their moms sad but sometimes I'm sad I never had children and watched them grow up and had my heart broken A child, in my mind, is an experience we can miss without having, like losing a button that's just been sewn on Sometimes I wish that I'd been more careful because if I were careful I wouldn't have children

inghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03877741066021169188noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18414498.post-84533164873792235722008-04-21T12:09:00.000-07:002008-04-21T23:48:04.037-07:00

I spent most of this weekend in bed with a cold, and while it's always good to rest, I hate knowing that my precious weekend is just about over. I should put more effort into going out after work, but where is my stamina? It's Monday, and I took the day off. Yesterday I devoted a great big block of time to washing and moisturizing my face. I ate many salads and drank lots of juice. I even

inghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03877741066021169188noreply@blogger.com