the bitter goof

My New Idea Today: All in One Health Clinic

2007-06-19T08:24:00.000-07:00

Wouldn't it be great to have a one-stop shopping complex for all your healthcare needs? You book it for a day, and you see
- your main dr
-obgyn
- eye dr
- dentist
- dermatologist
Then you get a massage and a manicure at the end to top it all off.
And there's a nice coffee and smoothie bar with books and magazines and a game arcade and a children's spot for the in-between times. As well as a healthspa.

Wouldn't that be awesome? I hate having to set up so many different appointments at different places... You get all your visits in in a year. And if you have any troubles that are more holistic, all the drs are right there to confer.

I could make millions!

Out of my Comfort Zone

2007-06-13T08:01:00.000-07:00

A list of things I could do to push myself out of the comfort zone: if you have any ideas, let me know...

1) Sing/play tambourine on the downtown mall for a couple hours
2) Karaoke. The last time I did this was at my 16th birthday party, when we rented out a restaurant. I sang the theme from Ice Castles (ack!) and that I guess you think this song is about you song. (Blush.)
3) Wear a hat in public.
4) Get acupuncture and reiki.

I can't think of anymore. I auditioned at Live Arts already... I need items for my list!

Two Things Made Me Laugh Today

2007-06-12T09:34:00.000-07:00

1) This video from Funny or Die of two parents trying to pick a name for their coming baby cracked me UP

2) Friend at work said: Please pity me. I went shopping for bathing suits last night. It was torture. If Al Queda really wants to terrorize me, they should just throw me in a changing room and toss bathing suits at me.

It's only 12:37 though. I have to make it through the rest of the work afternoon. Am not looking forward to telling our childcare provider that we're leaving. Why am I so indecisive and such a wimp???

Funniest VIdeo Ever

2007-06-05T09:07:00.000-07:00

Funniest thing ever - lyrics to Ledbetter by Misheard Lyrics guy --

Road Trip!!!

2007-05-31T08:45:00.000-07:00

Read about the Top 10 Christian Tourist Traps...

and tell me when we're going!

I seriously would love to see a general religion theme park. It would include real rides, like:

The Sufi whirlagig, where you get spun around and around
The holy water pool, so you can have splashing good fun reliving the Biblical healing water pool
in Hinduland (because it would be divided up into minilands per religion) there'd be a faris wheel depicting reincarnation
the Rapture Ride would be a blasting rocket ship into fake clouds
you could rent bicycles to ride like Mormon missionaries

Etc. Can you come up with any?

I hate crocs - I'm not alone!!!

2007-05-30T09:08:00.001-07:00

Check out this blog all about the horridness of crocs!!!

Michael Moore

2007-05-30T06:58:00.000-07:00

Michael Moore interview with Bill Maher:
http://www.alternet.org/blogs/video/52438/

About his new movie Sicko, covering the healthcare situation in this country.

Sigh. It can be so sad to contemplate how screwed up this place is.

And by place, I mean more than just America...

How to Love Your Toddler Tips

2007-05-25T09:50:00.000-07:00

I think this is a great and really helpful list!

Toddlerhood can be a maddening time for parents. But you’ll be glad to know you can reduce your child’s rebellion by giving him freedom to do his developmental work.

How much is he allowed to explore? To set his own pace? To feel in control of his world? To discover that he’s a competent person? Can you appreciate his bids for independence without taking them as personal insults? Can you give up some control so he can develop some sense of mastery over his world?

Your baby is growing into her own person. Your challenge is to keep your sanity and keep her safe. Your best strategy is to cultivate a great relationship with her and enjoy her emerging independence. How?

1.Cultivate empathy for your child. Kids begin to develop empathy (and therefore, the ability to play well with others) as they themselves feel understood. And it’ll make you a better parent.

2.Don't force her to share. Instead, encourage taking turns. Let her put her favorite toys away before another child visits.

3.Allow time in your schedule for your toddler's need to explore the world. Rushing toddlers is one of the common triggers of avoidable tantrums.

4.Use age-appropriate discipline: distraction, reasonable limits, redirection. Don’t unwittingly teach your toddler that might makes right by spanking her. And if you yell at her, you're teaching her by example that tantrums are ok.

5.Let your child be in charge of toilet training. They all get out of diapers sooner or later. Fights with your child about his body are fights you will never win. If your child shows zero interest in toilet training, find opportunities for him to be around other kids who are using the toilet, and he'll quickly want to emulate them.

6.Sidestep power struggles. You don't have to prove you're right. Your child is trying to assert that he’s a real person, with some real power in the world. That's totally appropriate. Let him say no whenever you can do so without compromise to safety, health, or other peoples' rights.

7.Feeding is the toddler’s job. You provide the healthy food. She feeds it to herself. Don’t obsess about how much she eats; kids don't starve themselves. Many toddlers are too busy during the day to eat enough and ask for food at bedtime. Build a bedtime snack into the routine to help him sleep better.

8.Forget about stimulating your child's brain by teaching her the alphabet. The intellectual work of toddlers is about talking and being listened to, observing the world, being accepted and validated. Emotional self-management lays the foundation for intellectual development. It's never too early to develop a love of books, if you want your child to love reading, then read to her and tell her stories.

9.Pre-empt whining. Whining is an expression of powerlessness. It can become a habit. Try to avoid making whining necessary, and if it does happen, try to avoid rewarding it.

10.Use routines. Kids develop self discipline partly by living in a safe, predictable structured routine where they know what to expect. When you disrupt routines with Grandma’s visit or simply exceptions for your own convenience, you can expect tantrums, difficulty falling asleep, and other challenges. Grandma, of course, is worth it, but choosing disruptions wisely is part of protective parenting.

11.Help your toddler feel more powerful by listening to her, letting her make decisions whenever possible, and giving her the opportunity to experience competence by helping you with simple household tasks.

12.Minimize or eliminate visual electronic media. Sesame Street creates a watcher, not a doer, shortens attention spans, and starts an addiction in kids who are prone to it. When they’re a little older, they’ll flip on the TV instead of reading a book. Not to mention that you’ll have stopped being able to monitor what they watch by the time they’re eight. The American Academy of Pediatrics recommends that children under the age of two not watch TV or videos at all because it impacts brain development. The AAP recommends that children over two watch AT MOST an hour daily of nonviolent, educational TV.

13.Pre-empt tantrums. Since most tantrums happen when kids are hungry or tired, think ahead. Preemptive feeding and napping, firm bedtimes, cozy time with you, peaceful quiet time without media stimulation -- whatever it takes to stay grounded -- prevent most tantrums. Learn to just say no -- to yourself! Don't squeeze in that last errand with a hungry or tired kid.

14.Try to handle tantrums so they don’t escalate. If your kid does launch into a tantrum despite your best preventive efforts, stay calm. He needs to know you're there and still love him, even if he won't let you touch him. Don’t try to reason with him. Think about what you feel like when you’re swept with exhaustion, rage and hopelessness. He needs to know that you’re in control, and as soon as he's ready, you'll help him recollect himself. Afterwards, take some reassuring “cozy time” together, but don't give in to the original demand that prompted the tantrum.
www.yourparentingsolutions.com

Dr. Laura Markham is the founder of www.YourParentingSolutions.com, featuring a popular advice column and parent-tested solutions you can use every day to connect with your kids and create a richer family life. Dr. Markham specializes in helping families nurture the parent-child relationships that protect today's kids.

www.HealthNewsDigest.co

Mother of the Year!

2007-05-23T09:10:00.000-07:00

One of my online working mother friends told us this story last week - so funny I just had to post it here:

ship a lot of stuff for my business, and I was making a 4:55 run to
the Earlysville post office yesterday afternoon with my 2-year old
daughter to get a huge stack of packages out in the day's mail. She's
out of diapers these days, but we still have occasional accidents. She
was actually going "commando"at that point in the day because an
accident earlier in the afternoon had nuked the last spare set of
underwear that I had with me. So here I am, standing in line, trying to
fill out a customs form, while she's happily rearranging the Priority
Mail boxes, when I hear the unmistakable sound of what could only be a
very loose BM. But just in case I missed it, she loudly announced to me
and the crowd in the post office, "Mommy, I pooped!"

I turn around, and she's walking across the room towards me, leaving a
trail of fresh poo across the post office floor. It was down her legs,
all over her shoes, and getting everywhere. So here I am, hugely
pregnant, scrambling around on the floor, trying to wipe up the mess,
trying to keep her from touching anything, and trying to achieve all of
this while maintaining some vague air of dignity as the other postal
patrons look on. Meanwhile, Molly keeps repeating her cheerful chorus
of "Poop, Mommy!" and pointing to the mess. I was absolutely mortified
and felt totally incompetent as a mom!

But I guess it's all in a day's work as a work at home mom, right?

Yay Parenthood

2007-05-23T09:09:00.001-07:00

Boing Boing

Snot siphon for sucking your kids' nose clear

By Cory Doctorow Cory Doctorow: The Nosefrida is a suction straw for clearing snot out of your kids' nostrils. Put the rubber hose up your kid's nose, then suck on the other end (keep track of which end you use for what). A filter stops the gunk and germs from ending up in your mouth. Link (via OhGizmo)

Uh-Oh at B&N

2007-05-18T09:10:00.000-07:00

So, motherhood didn't start it, I've always been a klutz -- or rather, prone to ridiculous accidents (a talent I've inherited from my mother - we're both comedians, Lucille Ball types without the cameras).

But motherhood does give me a great excuse when the ridiculous happens. For instance, when I swiped my card so emphatically at the counter last night at Barnes & Noble that I elbowed my frappucino to the ground, where it splattered in a mess - it would have happened if I'd been alone, but because Josie was in my arms, I kind of made the "oh it's so hard being a mother" grimace and scooted out apologetically and felt forgiven by the girl behind the register. You know?

And last week, when I knocked the just-bought, full, expensive, and open sandalwood oil bottle into the used and also open toilet bowl (which my husband later unknowingly flushed down the toilet) the fact that Josie was in the room, even though she had nothing to do with the accident, somehow made me feel - at least on the inside - okay. I mean, rushing around in the morning, getting ready, finding socks and bananas and a clean bra and all that... it's so hard being a mother!

The thing is, it IS hard, but it's also a lot of fun, and I've actually got our morning and evening routines down pretty good. What's hard is just being the kind of person who knocks things over and tends to make a big splash without meaning to. And it's always been like that - that is nothing new. So maybe it's not fair to motherhood to blame it for everything.

But as we all know - life isn't fair...

Children's Christian Songs

2007-05-18T08:58:00.000-07:00

How much of a heathen am I?

My mother was a Sunday School teacher and children's choir director most of my life. So, I grew up singing a lot of children's songs - but they were all Christianesque.

Getting sick of The Itzy Bitzy Spider, I find myself reverting to these old religious standards, but changing the lyrics to reflect my rather different theology.

For example:
If I were a butterfly, I'd thank you goddess [lord], for giving me wings
If I were a bird in a tree, I'd thank you goddess [lord] that I could sing
And if I were a fishy in the sea, I'd wriggle my tail and I'd giggle with glee
Cuz I just thank you mother [father] for making me me
Cuz you gave me a heart and you gave me a smile
You gave me this world [Jesus} and you made me its [his] child
And I just thank you mother [father] for making me me

Or

I've got the joy joy joy down in my heart
Down in my heart, down in my heart
I've got the joy joy joy down in my heart today
And I"m so happy, so very happy
I've got the love of Josie [Jesus] in my heart, down in my heart
I've got the love of Josie [Jesus] in my heart

(Thank goddess [god] Josie's name isn't "Hernanda" or something.)

Am I going to hell?
Will my mother find out and send me there?

My Favorite Things

2007-05-17T12:37:00.000-07:00

Instead of a birthday wish list that lists items, I am instead going to list my favorite things, interests, colors. Because I don't really want to give an order form, you know? And I don't want one, either. I would love it love it if all of my friends gave me a similar list. It makes shopping/making/preparing gifts so much more of a creative and inventive act. So please - I'm showing you mine - show me yours!

Colors: Red. I love dark, bright reds. I also like black and green and blue and orange. Once I get going... I like multicolored, bright things. Like Mexican rugs. Koi fish ponds. Not rainbowy or pastels. I would like a red kitchen, for instance. With red napkins, red plates, red glasses, red appliances, etc.

Style: Anything Asian, east Asian, Indian, bamboo/woven, Thai

Flavors, smells, tastes, etc.:
Peppermint
Ginger (love ginger tea)
Sandalwood
Copper
Thick, dark coffee
Thick, dark beer
Thick, dark wine
Cheese
Plants (perennials)
Magnolia trees
Rosemary bushes (all herbs good, this is my favorite-smelling one)
Hydrangeas
Fruit trees (I like things that do something)

I can't get enough of...
Mary Poppins, the cd and/or dvd
Stephen Sondheim musicals
Billy Collins poetry
Mae West
Ella Fitzgerald
Rings, necklaces, earrings
Shoes, socks, pantyhose
Lotion, bubbles, perfume oil
Reading
UU books
Massage
Water

Misc. Items of Desire
Nice paper, stationary, blank books, ink pens, colored sharpies, canvases, art stuff
Bread machine
Chimes, birdfeeders, lovely outdoor decor (that does something) stuff
How to make a lampshade kit
Jewelry holder
Mobiles

Shop for me at:
Uncommon Goods
Target
MOMA
Pier One
10,000 Villages
World Market
Chinese/Asian marts/stores

Identity

2007-05-16T09:32:00.000-07:00

The problem for me with having a blog is I can't decide the focus. This is because, in general, I can't decide who I am.

That is, there's tons of people out there who write parent blogs - CrankMama, for instance, or Stlworkingmom (I always think it means "Still Working" or "Steelers Working" instead of "St. Louis"). Rereading my old posts that have to do with being a mother, I considered framing this blog that way. It would make blog-life easier. I could be on parent-blog networks and maybe get a book deal or something (ha).

But as soon as I start giving weight to that choice, other ones sprout their weedy little heads. I could focus on my spirituality, UUism, the Soul Diet book I've been trying to write forever. I could return to using the insincere but comic 'dumb girl' lens through which to critique society (problem: certain relatives don't get the humor). Every post could be a poem only. I could make cartoons like the one I did for the jozy blog. I could make lists (I love making a list!). I could revamp my redinked.com persona and review the media/books.

All these ideas bring indecisiveness and conflict; as per usual with me, creativity is the first horse of my inner apocalypse of immobility and depression.

And this is just about a blog - a tiny reflection of the larger tension in my life, which is, has been since I was fifteen, what am I going to do with my life?

Over the past several years, I have considered the following:
- poet
- professor
- gifted-children teacher
- graphic designer
- hippie
- lawyer
- MBA - haver
- web designer for nonprofits
- novel-writer
- child advocate
- editor
- priest/minister
- theater teacher
- creative writing teacher
- daycare owner
- psychologist/therapist
- motivational speaker/self-help author
- education phd/ theorist

All of these have their complexities and problems (time commitment, money, lack of skill, not wanting to move, lack of education, etc.) but the biggest problem with ALL of them is that
I don't want to do one of them so much that I'm willing to commit to it and tackle the attending difficulties.

I have, all my life, been fairly quick at picking things up, fairly talented in a general sort of way - a blessing in that I've dipped my toe in a number of pools of experience, but a curse in that I am not so very talented at one thing that it's a no-brainer that I should do it. My life is a series of half-done enterprises:
- took Chinese but can't speak it
- lead singer in a rock band, have a cd, but only lasted a year
- tons of theater training, but nothing to show for it
- web/graphic design, but not enough coding/art education to really do it/be great at it
- got my poetry MFA, but never published so I could be a professor
- half a dozen half-started, incomplete writing projects
etc. etc.

Oh where oh where is the burning bush to tell me what to do!?

I'd even go for a still small voice.

A toasted leaf.

Anything.

When I was about 10 years old, I had a "vision" while entranced with the sunlight glittering through the blinds in my bedroom window - I believed that god was telling me that if I just kept doing everything I was doing (dancing, singing, acting, writing, etc.) that eventually I would get my call. I was intensely happy and assured.

Of course, I lost faith in that particular deity later, and the whole idea of having a calling or a mission or a purpose or a point in life evaporated, leaving me with lots of choices but no direction.

And I'm still there, in many ways.

Lots of choices and possibilities...

I've done all the books on finding a job to love, I've gone to career counselors. But I need more. I'm open and welcoming to any ideas or insights you might have!

About the direction of the blog, too.

Names That Don't Work

2007-05-15T12:56:00.000-07:00

Item 1: Sorry, but people sometimes choose e-mail names just plain suck: Today's winner:
"stinkylingo" I mean, yuck - do you really want me to buy your stuff if you smell? If your language smells?

Random Thought of the Day

2007-05-15T08:37:00.000-07:00

When doing ballet as a kid, we were warned against squeezing our butt muscles and told instead to reduce our butt profile by tucking it in.

Now that I don't do ballet, I am free to squeeze my butt as much as I like and make it really really big.

How fun is that?

Pride in my Family

2007-04-16T09:16:00.000-07:00

For all of you wondering what Sean is doing/has done/does, please read
the announcement about his new job with Charlottesville Tomorrow:

http://cvilletomorrow.typepad.com/charlottesville_tomorrow_/2007/04/tubbs.html

Also, if you haven't seen the latest picture of Josie, check out the Easter pic on her blog:
http://www.babyjozy.blogspot.com/

Lessons from Being a Mom This Week

2006-11-26T04:35:00.000-08:00

My husband is out of town for a week, and with the holidays and all meaning I'm off work, it's just been Me & the Baby Toddler.

Oh my goodness. All hail the single mothers of the world. It is not easy.

As I write this, she is stumbling in circles, her mouth full of bagel, in her diaper, carrying a yellow duck, nose running. The dog is rolling his eyes. I am scraping out a couple minutes to type on the computer, which she has so far not let me do all morning. I don't have much time.

I need to put down these mental notes to myself of things I have learned during this intense one-on- one time with my daughter:

1) anything that will fall over, will (even if it's just there 'for a moment')

2) forget the usefulness of bookmarks - remember page numbers - they will be removed and tossed

3) any standing water (dog dish, mop bucket) will end up splashed on the floor

4) if it's forbidden, it's fun - possible remedy - FORBID EVERYTHING?

5) A toddler is kind of like Armaggedon. Isn't there something in the Bible about what is done will be undone and what is undone will be done? Lesson: remember the little terror is holy.

6) Seinfeld is a brilliant, brilliant man, for one schtick alone - the thing about how his Nighttime Guy doesn't care about Morning Guy, so he does whatever he likes, thinking 'Morning Guy will deal with it, not me!' So Morning Guy hates Nighttime Guy.

Currently, my Morning Mother wants to strangle Nighttime Mama, who went out drinking Black Russians last night, passed out without turning any lights off or the heat on, slept all night with her contacts in, and had to wake up at 6:30 a.m. to play with her baby.

7) Everything you buy for your child you are really buying for yourself. I want to buy her new books because if I have to read Moo Moo Brown Cow one more time, I will turn back into a meat-eater. Also, I indulged in some new bath toys last night because the thousand identical yellow rubber duckies we currently have clogging the bathtub are starting to remind me of the eerie, freakish clones I'm reading in my sci fi book (the one where I've lost my place).

And you have to admit: the cute clothes are just for showing off the baby. She could care less.

8) There's this freaky book called Runaway Bunny in which the baby bunny keeps saying how she's going to run away from her mum and the mum bunny is like, 'whatever you do, wherever you go, I'll come find you and get you.' It's so loving! And so terrifying! Like the mama bunny is part of the SS or something.

But everytime my toddler screams when I wipe her nose, I know that this kind of love requires being hated and despised. I don't think my own mother ever got this. She wanted to be loved too much. She forgot that to love a child is to give up being loved back.

9) Making up the rules sounds like fun, when you're a kid. But now as a parent, I realize it's hard, not only to make them up, but to keep them up.

Being without my husband this week has been easy in some ways but awful in others. Mostly, as a friend put it, without a partner around, you get lost in your own head, you start to doubt yourself when you're making it up as you go along.

And then he calls and questions you and you wish you could send a punch through the telephone line. He is trying to be helpful and give input. He doesn't know you're at the point where you zone out for minutes at a time, that you can't sleep, that you are losing the ability to make decisions... that when she's playing in the dog dish, you let her, because it gives you a couple minutes of uninterrupted time... and then you feel guilty about it...

You wish he was back home. Having a partner of any kind really really helps. Just someone to bounce ideas off of, to complain to, to discuss poop with, to voice doubts to...

10) When people say being a mother is the hardest job ever, they are not quoting a magnet. They are speaking the truth. At least for Americans, without the benefit of extended families. So many of our own mothers did not mother us properly, because they themselves weren't mothered properly, so here we are now, trying to mother properly without examples or roadmaps, maybe only some sitcom episodes from the 80s and 90s...

11) Toilets, trash cans, and dirt are fun fun fun.

12) The thing about having a child is you do have to a) grow up yourself and b) learn to play again. It's this weird double-stretch.

Growing up myself for me means
- putting my needs behind everyone else's, but still taking care of myself
- being assertive, not passive aggressive, or aggressive
- tying my shoe laces, putting my crap away, cleaning up after myself, not eating like a bachelorette, thinking ahead
- driving safer, to protect her, and myself
- eating healthier, because I want to protect me for her
- following some rules without questioning them (hardest thing)
- watching my language
- no watching tv around her
- living conciously, to set a good example
- not feeling sorry for myself anymore

In general, just not indulging in the luxury of getting to be as childish or annoying as I would like to be if I didn't have a little mimic-sponge beside me...

And part two, learning to play again... this is the good part, that makes up for the growing up part. I get to scribble and talk in funny voices and sing silly songs and see the world again for the new, beautiful thing it is... I get to sit on the bathroom floor with my baby, letting her pet my hair... I get to study grass... I get to turn her sock into a squeaky character that makes her giggle... I get to dance to cheesy music...

The thing is, it's hard, after training myself to seem 'adult' to let go, to take time to just be, to just let myself be ridiculous... but it's essential. You don't do projects with a baby toddler really. You have to live in the moment. You have to learn to drop whatever you're doing and pick up something else. You can't get attached to a goal or plan or a schedule or a nice pair of pants.

You can only get attached to the baby.

And that's a good thing.

Living in Peace

2006-11-19T09:10:00.000-08:00

I was sitting out on the porch the other night, thinking about how lucky, really, I am to be living here and now. Most people in the world at this very moment are living in some kind of strife, whether it be hunger or homelessness, poverty or war. We're lucky to be the Fat Cats we are. People have been striving for fat cattishness forever, and it probably won't last very long, so the question that came to my mind was: What are we doing with it?

Seriously, what good are we making of this peace and plenty? Are we enjoying it? Are we deepening our souls, educating our minds, expanding our wisdom, embracing beauty? Are we creating art and literature, elements of a high, happy culture? Are we evolving as we should be, given that we have so much given?

In some respects, I could probably say yes to this. For all the sense of decay - moral, political, intellectual, etc., - there are actually some wonderful things happening in this country. I'm grateful for them:

a) the rise of awareness about the planet, organic food, etc., - there's more and more people getting hip with the situation of earth's unhealthiness, and their own...
b) the rise of tolerance - yes, I know, it sucks that there's not free gay marriage in every state, but in the media and in general, there's more acceptance of interracial marriage, women leaders, and gay people than ever
c) more good television - say what you like, but as much as there's loadfulls of crappy programming, there's also really awesome, smart, challenging TV being created
d) increased quality of human connection - through blogs and yahoo groups, there's more people bonding, forming communities, and there are nice people...

Yeah, I know, you could temper each of these items with horror stories of intolerance, crap, sucky people, religious dogma, how expensive things are, etc. But I'd rather be living now that in the 1950s, and there's lots of reasons for that. I'm in a warm house, typing on a laptop, wearing organic lotion, a healthy daughter asleep, and I am lucky. I want to make the most of this luck. I want to be responsible for the terror and oppression my country spreads over the world - I want to continue to promote and give my life to helping others achieve this peace - but I also want to accept and enjoy it, because it is a gift, and I feel like it would be ungrateful to squander it by complaining about how it's not good enough...

It's kind of like my friend who had the trust fund and felt guilty about it. She drove me crazy with her apologies, her self-deprecation, her shame. I just wanted to yell at her, "Relish it! Spend the money! Embrace it! Share the wealth, but goshdarn, have fun! You're lucky!"

It's hard to not feel guilty for having this luck, especially when you mine its roots and find that slavery and oppression and the blood of abused workers fed and built the foundations of it. It is hard to know how to behave, to enjoy shopping or driving if you think of all the people who suffer for the oil for the clothes for the shoes that I buy, use, and wear...

Oh dear, my argument unravels...

Blogging is Exhausting

2006-11-13T17:39:00.000-08:00

If this whole blogging experiment is going to lead to anything substantial, there has to be a better way. I'm getting overwhelmed. To 'keep up' with all the blogs to which I subscribe, let alone to read new ones, connect with others, etc., can take more than 24 hours a day.

The thing with books is: they're finite. You can see how far left you have to read quite easily, by pinching the pages together that you've not yet read and pretending you can judge the body fat of text your reading will burn away.

Blogs: infinity. No end in sight. Each one grows in both directions everyday, creating streams of archived pasts and outstretched strands to other blogs. New blogs crop every day, like bacteria strains. There's no way out, only small ways to try and stay afloat.

So I'm thinking, there has to be some kind of constraint. I need to be part of a blogging circle, the way my mom is part of a quilting bee. Kind of like Cville Blogs, only smaller, and the thing would be inbred, sweetly incestuous. It would last for a distinct amount of time- six months, maybe. Then you could switch to a different circle. But at least after that six months you would feel like you knew the other bloggers somewhat -- that you had read their writing, not just skimmed it.

Well, following my own advice, I just trolled some of the other NaBloPoMo bloggers.

One that I really liked: http://mytopography.com/2006/11/12/two-kinds-of-prayers/ This woman is an artistic teacher.

I also liked "my pink toes" but his comments weren't working. The guy was afraid of cancer.

I actually feel kind of touched by other humans.

Is that pathetic?

SNL Was Actually Good

2006-11-12T19:53:00.000-08:00

SNL was actually good last night! I mean, I did this increasingly rare thing while watching it... I laughed.

Yay! I can't help it: I grew up looking forward to staying up Saturday nights to watch this show, and it's nice to still have that to look forward to...

Dream.

2006-11-11T20:11:00.000-08:00

I dreamt I was an assassin. I woke up in the middle of the night, feeling the guilt of the dream heavily, as real on my body as the blanket.

The stars stick on the sky
because I say they do

because I want to weigh the time
with heavy rocks

with words I try to write
against their slipping

it works until the stanza stops
and I can't love you

the past becomes the past is why
and you are going

with the stars gone

Failure

2006-11-11T19:25:00.000-08:00

Yeah, so I can't just postdate this entry to make up for missing a post yesterday. I mean, I could, and that's my instinct, because it's not like I'm doing this for a grade or anything, but I won't. I'm trying to toughen up my integrity. I don't exactly know where or how I learned to so easily coat my inadequacies and failures with the thick sauce of argument and excuse. It's not exactly lying. It's more like salad dressing. You disguise the broccoli and radishes, so that your tastebuds get tricked into eating them.

That's what I tend to do with the truth when it is not so delicious. I hate admitting that. But that's part of learning to tell the truth. Doing so when it makes me taste like a yucky vegetable.

(Yes, I am indeed eating a salad right now.)

I am not even going to blame it on my parents. I know that growing up acting had something to do with it. Acting has often been lambasted with aspersions of wickedness for its kinship with fiction, which is made up, like a lie. That's why some religious groups outlaw the theater. That's why the theater world always seems a bit slippery in character. Because people are slipping in and out of characters. And that makes it hard sometimes to have one that's solid, grounded, and true.

My father often philosophized about the distinction between fact and truth. He was an amateur historian. One of my favorite memories of him: he's pontificating in his jaunty, jovial way before a group of other cpers in metal chairs in a semicircle around him. I'm walking by, stopping to listen. It's outside, on the grounds of the church where the summer sessions were held. It's summer in California, but my dad is still wearing a long-sleeved shirt over his t-shirt. He dresses like an Arab, in layers.

He's telling a story from history, I think European. I don't know which story. He was a good story teller. I passed the European AP test with a 4 without a class or studying because of his stories. And he's saying how there are facts and truths but the two aren't the same.

Maybe he understood that so well because of his immersion in acting, because inhabiting characters could portray truths if not strict factual details. Many of the historical roles he played summer after summer: Churchill, Patton, an RAF chaplain from WWII, and Maurice Chevalier, and a French swordsman, and Harpo Marx. He collected the necessary props and accessories: bowties, cigars, fake guns, stage swords, a curly wig, a silver pocket watch. Also a leather pouch holding thirty fake pieces of silver for his singlet performance of Judas - an especially intense one-man play that frightened me when I saw it as a young child, because my father, under the bright stage lights, sweat pouring from his temples, cried and screamed like a man about to commit suicide for betraying his Christ.

I have all of these things now, in boxes. The effects of a dead person -- but stranger, the effects of myriad dead characters, who died and died everytime the curtain closed. With my father died a host -- I mean, a host of souls, or the host of a host of souls. It's an odd assortment of relics that piece together an incomplete man. My memory is also incomplete. I write this with weakening confidence. My recollection feels watered down, a shallow puddle at my feet. How much will I have to make up to make up for the lacking thereof?

And can I trust myself to be my father's historian? Can I tell his story with even a small measure of the authenticity with which he told the stories of people he didn't even know or touch the way I knew him?

I think this is why I wrote poems, why I became a (failed) poet. Because it's easier to take the remnants and leave them small and inconclusive than to try and tease out a sustained narrative. It feels more truthful to leave pieces as pieces.

My father's ashes are still in a box, too. By now I should have found an urn or a proper scenic river in which to throw them. I've had some ideas. But nothing seems right. He didn't belong anywhere physically, not really, except in his body and voice. Which are gone.

This is ridiculous, of course, to keep writing when I've failed already. But honestly, I have to keep going. I am too used to quitting if I can't be perfect. Quitting or covering up. But I won't do either, this time. I'll keep going forward, a failure though I am, but an honest one.

Angel. Yeah, Me.

2006-11-09T19:31:00.000-08:00

When I first auditioned as the lead singer for the band Darker Days, Johnny, the guitar player, exclaimed, 'she sings like an angel.'

And yes: that has stuck in my head.

It's been about ten years since I wailed my high-pitched babbles into the microphone in that basement, Yam hammering the drums, T walking the bass.

I didn't know what I was doing. T. heard me singing Ella Fitzgerald songs in the shower. He told me to come and try out.

He truly loved me. What is it, about being loved like that? Being appreciated for all one's talents? He always thought I was funny, too. We clicked on every level.

Eventually, the band split. Johnny was a manipulator. He tried to work T and me against each other. Yam dressed her dogs up in bomber jackets.

And T never played again, really. He was devastated.

So much for being an angel.

Fake sausage links

2006-11-09T06:30:00.000-08:00

I love fake bacon. It's really, really good.

I also am loving the Cville Blogs this week. I guess because we've all experienced the election together - a single event we're all writing about - it makes it almost (sniff!) feel like a community!

When are we having another get-together? Can we go camping?

I love this link from Bruno & the Professor - wit and wisdom of Rumsfeld:

Also, from my new favoritely entertaining blog Yes But No But Yes:
-Why I love men with bald heads: a lesson on using smiley faces making you a loser.
- Funny: women doing glute squeezes.

Is it ok that I posted last night after 12? I started writing before then...?