I work in a job that I love, but don't make a lot of money. I left a lucrative career in sales to do something that stirs great passion in me. A reduction in salary was part of the compromise, and I accepted it willingly.
Now, for those of you who don't know me, lemme tell ya a little secret: I'm TERRIBLE with money. If I have ten dollars in my pocket, I'll spend it on drinks with friends. Savings? What's that? However, I've had to get a little better about it recently, and I'm fine with that. I've given up some things, and continue to make changes that benefit me financially.
However, the one thing that I will NOT sacrifice is my occasional employment of a housekeeper.
A couple of months ago, I called a housekeeper at the recommendation of a friend. I was having houseguests and a big party, and wanted my little place to sparkle. Something else that you might not know about me: I despise houswork of any kind, but always felt weird about having someone come into my home and clean it. I mean, I have an 843 square foot condo. I ought to be able to clean it, but I never do anything unless I feel a natural inclination towards the act, and I hate cleaning.
So. I hired this guy. Went out for a couple of hours, and came home to a sparkling, fragrant, perfectly cleaned home. The kind of clean you don't want to mess up. The kind of clean that makes me happy to welcome people into my home again. The kind of clean that even I can maintain.
I think that I can give up a nice dinner or two per month to have this kind of happiness.
Thursday, July 26, 2007
Tuesday, July 17, 2007
bored bored bored
That's what I am right now. I'm not working right now, and everyone else I know has...you know...a real job, so I'm bored, barely dressed with nowhere to go. And no, I'm not unemployed...I'm on a seasonal break.
So I googled "bored bored bored bored bored," and I found the following:
(start quote)
Bored, Bored, Bored.....Bored!
God, lab work can be boring sometimes can't it? In between greasing joints, preparing amine salts, shutting fingers in doors and polishing oil pumps, rather than commit suicide try out some of the following to brighten up your drab and wholly pointless life....
• Find out where your supervisor shops and buy exactly the same outfits. Always wear them one day after they do. (This is particularly easy if you work for ***, only necessitating the purchase of one blue jumper.)
• Arrive at a group meeting late, say you're sorry, but you didn't have time for lunch and you're going to be nibbling throughout the meeting. During the meeting eat five entire raw potatoes.
• Every time someone asks you to do something, ask them if they want fries with that.
• Commission the mechanical workshop to construct an overly elaborate devise for determining the exact rotation speed of your rotary evaporator to within ±0.001 rpm. Argue with your supervisor that this information is vital to your experimental section and he is obviously a 'cowboy' for not agreeing with you.
• Sustain a trivial injury at work then make a good attempt at the world record for malingering at home/pub during your 'convalescence'.
• Play late arrival dare. Over a number of days increase your start time in the morning until this leads to a frosty confrontation with your supervisor. Times vary for the zenith of lateness - in special cases skilled skivers (CG) can arrive well into the afternoon before sufficiently annoying their boss. The ensuing argument is a great source of hilarity for hard working-start on time colleagues.
• Wear weird safety specs that simulate tunnel vision.
• Suggest that perhaps the floors could be buffed more often by less attractive cleaners.
• Put a chair facing the printer, sit there all day and tell people you're waiting for your document.
• Leap on your supervisor's desk and play 'Candle in the Wind' using a combination of farting and buttock slapping. Begin to cry and demand three weeks compassionate leave.
• Ask the sefety officer for the entire back catalogue of his safety inspection dictaphone tapes and release 'The Best Safety Inspections Album In The World....Ever'. Follow this up by the contradictory 'The Best Safety Inspections Album In The World....Ever II'.
• Write a bizarre science fiction story for the yearbook adopting the writing style of a twelve year old.
• E-mail the whole department constantly with trivial statements about your whereabouts and/or shutdowns, eg 'my office will be shut at 10.30 am on Thursday 26th March 1998 for five minutes whilst I have a crap' or 'the safety shower in the abandoned sub-basement will be out of operation for five seconds at 3.05 am on Saturday due to essential maintenance on its lower sprocket bearing - we apologise for any inconvenience caused'.
(end quote)
I figure that the author works in some mind-numbing technical or scientific facility. Also, the 1998 reference indicates that the death of Princess Diana was fresh in the author's mind, which makes the "Candle in the Wind" thing funny. Other than that, I can't find anything else about the source.
I'm trying to find the humor in my current state of ambivalence, boredom, and general anxiety. This is better than wallowing in loneliness and the fact that everyone I know has paired off and is not available to go carousing with me. I could say that I wish I was one of those people, but I have to admit that not even I would go out with someone who described himself as ambivalent, bored, anxious, and lonely.
I think I'll post this entry on match.com and see what I get.
So I googled "bored bored bored bored bored," and I found the following:
(start quote)
Bored, Bored, Bored.....Bored!
God, lab work can be boring sometimes can't it? In between greasing joints, preparing amine salts, shutting fingers in doors and polishing oil pumps, rather than commit suicide try out some of the following to brighten up your drab and wholly pointless life....
• Find out where your supervisor shops and buy exactly the same outfits. Always wear them one day after they do. (This is particularly easy if you work for ***, only necessitating the purchase of one blue jumper.)
• Arrive at a group meeting late, say you're sorry, but you didn't have time for lunch and you're going to be nibbling throughout the meeting. During the meeting eat five entire raw potatoes.
• Every time someone asks you to do something, ask them if they want fries with that.
• Commission the mechanical workshop to construct an overly elaborate devise for determining the exact rotation speed of your rotary evaporator to within ±0.001 rpm. Argue with your supervisor that this information is vital to your experimental section and he is obviously a 'cowboy' for not agreeing with you.
• Sustain a trivial injury at work then make a good attempt at the world record for malingering at home/pub during your 'convalescence'.
• Play late arrival dare. Over a number of days increase your start time in the morning until this leads to a frosty confrontation with your supervisor. Times vary for the zenith of lateness - in special cases skilled skivers (CG) can arrive well into the afternoon before sufficiently annoying their boss. The ensuing argument is a great source of hilarity for hard working-start on time colleagues.
• Wear weird safety specs that simulate tunnel vision.
• Suggest that perhaps the floors could be buffed more often by less attractive cleaners.
• Put a chair facing the printer, sit there all day and tell people you're waiting for your document.
• Leap on your supervisor's desk and play 'Candle in the Wind' using a combination of farting and buttock slapping. Begin to cry and demand three weeks compassionate leave.
• Ask the sefety officer for the entire back catalogue of his safety inspection dictaphone tapes and release 'The Best Safety Inspections Album In The World....Ever'. Follow this up by the contradictory 'The Best Safety Inspections Album In The World....Ever II'.
• Write a bizarre science fiction story for the yearbook adopting the writing style of a twelve year old.
• E-mail the whole department constantly with trivial statements about your whereabouts and/or shutdowns, eg 'my office will be shut at 10.30 am on Thursday 26th March 1998 for five minutes whilst I have a crap' or 'the safety shower in the abandoned sub-basement will be out of operation for five seconds at 3.05 am on Saturday due to essential maintenance on its lower sprocket bearing - we apologise for any inconvenience caused'.
(end quote)
I figure that the author works in some mind-numbing technical or scientific facility. Also, the 1998 reference indicates that the death of Princess Diana was fresh in the author's mind, which makes the "Candle in the Wind" thing funny. Other than that, I can't find anything else about the source.
I'm trying to find the humor in my current state of ambivalence, boredom, and general anxiety. This is better than wallowing in loneliness and the fact that everyone I know has paired off and is not available to go carousing with me. I could say that I wish I was one of those people, but I have to admit that not even I would go out with someone who described himself as ambivalent, bored, anxious, and lonely.
I think I'll post this entry on match.com and see what I get.
Monday, July 16, 2007
spent
So very many of you have written to me, asking after my wellbeing and curious as to the reason for my delay. Well, well, well...I've been busy. Here's a list, of sorts:
* was pretty disappointed by - and became deeply worried for - a close friend
* ran a camp for sixty-five children and was completely exhausted by the end of it
* hosted a reunion of friends, the likes of which as not been seen in years
* co-hosted a party which eventually saw 80 or so people in my 843-square-foot condo (throughout the day)...strangely, it did not feel cramped
* lost a beloved family member, and mourned her deeply
* traveled to New York for her funeral
* traveled back to Atlanta for the Fourth
* traveled BACK to NYC for a workshop and saw six Broadway shows, which inspired me greatly
* lost a friend, but no funeral was involved
* ventured to DC to visit a friend, do some work on a new piece, see some more theater, and just generally ham it up
* finally came home today to do laundry
Sorry if that's kryptic, but I'm exhausted. So much has happened in the last month; perhaps one day I'll be able to unzip the file that's in my head and divine some kind of meaning in all of this.
* was pretty disappointed by - and became deeply worried for - a close friend
* ran a camp for sixty-five children and was completely exhausted by the end of it
* hosted a reunion of friends, the likes of which as not been seen in years
* co-hosted a party which eventually saw 80 or so people in my 843-square-foot condo (throughout the day)...strangely, it did not feel cramped
* lost a beloved family member, and mourned her deeply
* traveled to New York for her funeral
* traveled back to Atlanta for the Fourth
* traveled BACK to NYC for a workshop and saw six Broadway shows, which inspired me greatly
* lost a friend, but no funeral was involved
* ventured to DC to visit a friend, do some work on a new piece, see some more theater, and just generally ham it up
* finally came home today to do laundry
Sorry if that's kryptic, but I'm exhausted. So much has happened in the last month; perhaps one day I'll be able to unzip the file that's in my head and divine some kind of meaning in all of this.
Tuesday, June 19, 2007
wake-up call
Who needs an alarm clock? I was awakened this morning by two things:
* The loudmouth "drill sergeant" who runs the local Boot Camp Fitness thing in my neighborhood. She was screaming at her troops as they jogged along my street - at 6 AM.
* A moth, trapped in my bedroom, battering itself against the walls, presumably trying to find its way out.
I can think of about ten other ways in which I'd prefer to wake up, a few of which are unfit to put in this forum. Funny, though, isn't it? A screaming fitness instructor and a little teenytiny moth can have the same effect.
I must admit, however, that I do like getting up rather early. I NEVER thought I would ever say that since I'll sleep 'til dusk when left to my own devices. I think it has to do with our very, very long summer days here in the South.
That and the fact that I've finally come to the realization that I don't bounce back the way I used to, ifyaknowwhatimean....
* The loudmouth "drill sergeant" who runs the local Boot Camp Fitness thing in my neighborhood. She was screaming at her troops as they jogged along my street - at 6 AM.
* A moth, trapped in my bedroom, battering itself against the walls, presumably trying to find its way out.
I can think of about ten other ways in which I'd prefer to wake up, a few of which are unfit to put in this forum. Funny, though, isn't it? A screaming fitness instructor and a little teenytiny moth can have the same effect.
I must admit, however, that I do like getting up rather early. I NEVER thought I would ever say that since I'll sleep 'til dusk when left to my own devices. I think it has to do with our very, very long summer days here in the South.
That and the fact that I've finally come to the realization that I don't bounce back the way I used to, ifyaknowwhatimean....
Monday, June 18, 2007
topsy - turvy
Well, well, well.
To say that the weekend was interesting would not only be boring but also an understatement. In a nutshell, I had fun, laughed some, cried some, stressed myself, relaxed myself, bonded further with my family, and went on a date. I'm exhausted physically and emotionally.
And today I have to go back to work...which I'll just go ahead and say I don't want to do. But I'll soldier through, do the deed, and then I'm off again for a spell.
Cried, you ask? Yes, I cried. Disappointment stinks, and (please beware: hyperbole ahead) I feel like a little teeny tiny part of me went cold and hard over the weekend. It makes me feel older, and I don't like that.
Ok, enough krypticism. This week holds...
* work
* a party
* preparing for said party (no small task)
* a convocation of old friends, which is sure to revive the small part of me that went cold this weekend
Good times.
To say that the weekend was interesting would not only be boring but also an understatement. In a nutshell, I had fun, laughed some, cried some, stressed myself, relaxed myself, bonded further with my family, and went on a date. I'm exhausted physically and emotionally.
And today I have to go back to work...which I'll just go ahead and say I don't want to do. But I'll soldier through, do the deed, and then I'm off again for a spell.
Cried, you ask? Yes, I cried. Disappointment stinks, and (please beware: hyperbole ahead) I feel like a little teeny tiny part of me went cold and hard over the weekend. It makes me feel older, and I don't like that.
Ok, enough krypticism. This week holds...
* work
* a party
* preparing for said party (no small task)
* a convocation of old friends, which is sure to revive the small part of me that went cold this weekend
Good times.
Thursday, June 14, 2007
and i hear people say she's getting old...
I have not been working for the last few days, so I have indulged in the luxury of NOT shaving. I like to do that every now and then. I don't particularly like the way I look with a beard, but my skin feels like a baby's when I finally shave it off my face. I do like that.
So I was all ready to let the beard grow out until I have to go back to work on Monday, when I looked in the mirror this morning...
...and saw grey in my whiskers.
I couldn't slather on the fancypants, costs-more-than-it-should-but-smells-so-good shaving cream fast enough.
Now, I'm not one of those people that freaks out about getting old (generally). But I wasn't of clear head this morning, so I lost it for a second. Grey hair in combination with a bit of recent weight gain spells "Oh...he used to be so cute," not "Damn, Daddy!"
So I lost the grey. Now I'll lose the weight. If only I could do that in the shower, too.
So I was all ready to let the beard grow out until I have to go back to work on Monday, when I looked in the mirror this morning...
...and saw grey in my whiskers.
I couldn't slather on the fancypants, costs-more-than-it-should-but-smells-so-good shaving cream fast enough.
Now, I'm not one of those people that freaks out about getting old (generally). But I wasn't of clear head this morning, so I lost it for a second. Grey hair in combination with a bit of recent weight gain spells "Oh...he used to be so cute," not "Damn, Daddy!"
So I lost the grey. Now I'll lose the weight. If only I could do that in the shower, too.
Saturday, June 09, 2007
a new favorite thing
I was strolling along Tenth Street today, mocking the fools that line up for the Flying Biscuit (I mean, why wait an HOUR in 90 degree heat for a plate of mediocre eggs and pudge), when I saw a t-shirt that had this on it:
"Guns don't kill people...people with moustaches kill people."
Hah!
"Guns don't kill people...people with moustaches kill people."
Hah!
Wednesday, June 06, 2007
i'm as corny as kansas in august
So. Here's what I did today:
* Moved rack of costumes into basement storage space. I can now walk around in my kitchen...heck I might even set up a table and chairs...
* Agreed to go on a trip to NYC: three days of Broadway shows and workshops, with all expenses paid by a third party. To think that I had to think TWICE about this...
* Booked a room for a performance with a partner-in-crime who is out of his mind...
* Secured a DJ for said performance (also a friend and fellow fool)
* Confirmed plans with another fool who has agreed to write and direct the thing
* Went to the gym...to fit into costumes for said event
* Went to the grocery and bought healthy food so I can fit into the costumes so that a friend and I can make fools of ourselves in a piece written by an even greater fool at a venue where our other friend will be spinning...
* Agreed to leave the PR up to the OSW (he's good at that, dontchaknow...) I don't imagine that the six people who read these words amount to "letting the cat out of the bag." However, it is the interweb...
* Oh...and decided to take an acting class to keep the machine gassed up if ya know what I mean...
Not a bad day. This could be a wonderful thing and then again...this could be a debacle, but it sure is fun the think about.
* Moved rack of costumes into basement storage space. I can now walk around in my kitchen...heck I might even set up a table and chairs...
* Agreed to go on a trip to NYC: three days of Broadway shows and workshops, with all expenses paid by a third party. To think that I had to think TWICE about this...
* Booked a room for a performance with a partner-in-crime who is out of his mind...
* Secured a DJ for said performance (also a friend and fellow fool)
* Confirmed plans with another fool who has agreed to write and direct the thing
* Went to the gym...to fit into costumes for said event
* Went to the grocery and bought healthy food so I can fit into the costumes so that a friend and I can make fools of ourselves in a piece written by an even greater fool at a venue where our other friend will be spinning...
* Agreed to leave the PR up to the OSW (he's good at that, dontchaknow...) I don't imagine that the six people who read these words amount to "letting the cat out of the bag." However, it is the interweb...
* Oh...and decided to take an acting class to keep the machine gassed up if ya know what I mean...
Not a bad day. This could be a wonderful thing and then again...this could be a debacle, but it sure is fun the think about.
Tuesday, June 05, 2007
gin and regret
Well, well, well.
Contrary to what the OSW says on his blog (link to the right), I did NOT participate in a drink off with him on Saturday night. After speaking with the OSW early on Saturday, I figured that he had too much of a lead and that I'd cut my losses. There are two sides to every story, y'all...
I made up for lost time, however, at the OSW's brunch on Sunday. Oy. A delicious blend of food, drink, and friends. Which blended into a porch party elsewhere...which blended into Blake's...which blended into blah blah blah blah blah...
Life in America is hard. I mean, I have a big party to plan (with the aforementioned OSW), guests to prepare for, and a cabaret to write.
I'm swamped.
Contrary to what the OSW says on his blog (link to the right), I did NOT participate in a drink off with him on Saturday night. After speaking with the OSW early on Saturday, I figured that he had too much of a lead and that I'd cut my losses. There are two sides to every story, y'all...
I made up for lost time, however, at the OSW's brunch on Sunday. Oy. A delicious blend of food, drink, and friends. Which blended into a porch party elsewhere...which blended into Blake's...which blended into blah blah blah blah blah...
Life in America is hard. I mean, I have a big party to plan (with the aforementioned OSW), guests to prepare for, and a cabaret to write.
I'm swamped.
Thursday, May 31, 2007
kate smith is warming up...
One more of my favorite things, courtesy of today's AJC:
Couple Sues Wal-Mart Over Slip in Vomit
DAVENPORT, Iowa — A woman's fall in a puddle of vomit has resulted in a lawsuit against Wal-Mart. June Medema, slipped in the vomit at a Davenport Wal-Mart on June 13, 2005, according to the lawsuit, filed by Medema and her husband, James, in Scott County District Court earlier this month.
Medema claims that she was seriously injured in the fall.
The lawsuit alleges that Wal-Mart's negligence led to Medema's fall, but it does not specifically say how the store was negligent.
John Simley, a Wal-Mart spokesman, decline comment saying he hadn't seen the lawsuit.
The lawsuit claims that Medema suffered serious neck and upper back injuries in the fall and has undergone several surgeries and is unable to work."
Wal-Mart + vomit + moron/midwesterner = frivolous lawsuit. God Bless America!!!
Couple Sues Wal-Mart Over Slip in Vomit
DAVENPORT, Iowa — A woman's fall in a puddle of vomit has resulted in a lawsuit against Wal-Mart. June Medema, slipped in the vomit at a Davenport Wal-Mart on June 13, 2005, according to the lawsuit, filed by Medema and her husband, James, in Scott County District Court earlier this month.
Medema claims that she was seriously injured in the fall.
The lawsuit alleges that Wal-Mart's negligence led to Medema's fall, but it does not specifically say how the store was negligent.
John Simley, a Wal-Mart spokesman, decline comment saying he hadn't seen the lawsuit.
The lawsuit claims that Medema suffered serious neck and upper back injuries in the fall and has undergone several surgeries and is unable to work."
Wal-Mart + vomit + moron/midwesterner = frivolous lawsuit. God Bless America!!!
Tuesday, May 29, 2007
"what need we manhattan...?
...just us and a cat in
a cottage on Cape Cod!"
Well, I think we'll be able to do without the cat, but you get the drift.
Every. Single. Time. I go to Provincetown, I'm amazed by new things, despite the fact that it is always the same old P'Town. Below, a list...to help me draw the memories of the last two days to the cheery foreground of my mind...
* Heaven is riding the ferry to P'Town and seeing the OSW waiting for you at the dock.
* Our hosts could not have been more gracious. I could go on, but I won't. It would be redundant. They are amazing men.
* Rode my bike all over town and felt for all the world that I was flying.
* I want to be a townie and am resolved to take steps in that direction.
* I have yet to eat a bad meal in that place.
* I finally met my husband. We've been married for some time, but I just met him this weekend (long story). The ONE photo that I've seen of him does not do him justice. Honestly, there must be a problem with the men of Boston if that one is single...
* I have come to the conclusion that everyone in P'Town is friendly. And not in that fakey, Southern I'll-talk-nice-to-you-and-then-criticize-you-when-you-turn-away kind of way. Friendly.
* Talked with God for one single, beautiful moment. It was neat.
* Screaming on the dance floor at the Boat Slip seems to always get a laugh.
* A favorite moment? Watching the sunset over the bay and looking up and down the beach to see hundreds of other people doing the same thing. The more I think I know about the world, the more I'm floored by the simple, gorgeous things that strike a bell in so many of us.
Labor Day cannot come fast enough.
a cottage on Cape Cod!"
Well, I think we'll be able to do without the cat, but you get the drift.
Every. Single. Time. I go to Provincetown, I'm amazed by new things, despite the fact that it is always the same old P'Town. Below, a list...to help me draw the memories of the last two days to the cheery foreground of my mind...
* Heaven is riding the ferry to P'Town and seeing the OSW waiting for you at the dock.
* Our hosts could not have been more gracious. I could go on, but I won't. It would be redundant. They are amazing men.
* Rode my bike all over town and felt for all the world that I was flying.
* I want to be a townie and am resolved to take steps in that direction.
* I have yet to eat a bad meal in that place.
* I finally met my husband. We've been married for some time, but I just met him this weekend (long story). The ONE photo that I've seen of him does not do him justice. Honestly, there must be a problem with the men of Boston if that one is single...
* I have come to the conclusion that everyone in P'Town is friendly. And not in that fakey, Southern I'll-talk-nice-to-you-and-then-criticize-you-when-you-turn-away kind of way. Friendly.
* Talked with God for one single, beautiful moment. It was neat.
* Screaming on the dance floor at the Boat Slip seems to always get a laugh.
* A favorite moment? Watching the sunset over the bay and looking up and down the beach to see hundreds of other people doing the same thing. The more I think I know about the world, the more I'm floored by the simple, gorgeous things that strike a bell in so many of us.
Labor Day cannot come fast enough.
Tuesday, May 22, 2007
and i don't have the munchies
My water smells like marijuana.
No joke. This has been the case for months now, and I know it to afflict the plumbing elsewhere in town (other friends have pointed it out, much to my amazement - I thought I was the only one). I even emailed the city water department, but I suspect the deleted it immediately, sending me to the "crazy" file.
But honestly...I turn on the shower or start the laundry or simply brush my teeth, and I can totally smell pot. Medicine mixed with sweet with dash of earthy. It's gross. I suspect that it has something to do with the massive water and sewer overhaul in Our Fair City these days. And it is probably toxic, but whatever.
In other news, I have maintained my clean home, had people over this weekend, and have a brief but oh-so-needed jaunt to the Cape this weekend. Cape Cod, that is.
As the OSW says, life in America does not suck.
No joke. This has been the case for months now, and I know it to afflict the plumbing elsewhere in town (other friends have pointed it out, much to my amazement - I thought I was the only one). I even emailed the city water department, but I suspect the deleted it immediately, sending me to the "crazy" file.
But honestly...I turn on the shower or start the laundry or simply brush my teeth, and I can totally smell pot. Medicine mixed with sweet with dash of earthy. It's gross. I suspect that it has something to do with the massive water and sewer overhaul in Our Fair City these days. And it is probably toxic, but whatever.
In other news, I have maintained my clean home, had people over this weekend, and have a brief but oh-so-needed jaunt to the Cape this weekend. Cape Cod, that is.
As the OSW says, life in America does not suck.
Wednesday, May 16, 2007
dolly'll never go away...
You know, it has indeed been quite a long time since I've written, and I think I have a good reason for that.
Actually, I HAVE written quite a bit in the last little while. I'll be inspired to write about something, I'll sit and punch it out, and then read it....only to select-all-delete the whole damn thing.
Why?
Because nine times out of ten the tone of my writing was bitter, judgemental, and just plain stinkin' negative. And I din't like it one bit.
Topics included that high school quarterback to killed himself in a drunken car accident, Rev. Jerry F.'s death, some bits n' pieces in our fair local newspaper, etc. But my take on each of those things had a decidedly hurtful slant to it, and I did not like how I sounded. And no amount of clever wordplay seemed to diminish the meanness of my commentary.
Something has shifted in me recently. Now, I'm still acerbic, sardonic, and critical. I don't think that my wit has dulled in any way.
But I (re)started this blog to hone my writing and simultaneously get some stuff out, and part of that is picking and choosing how I present myself. It is a theme that has manifested itself in my home, my diet, and my body. I welcome the change.
I just hope this isn't the "manic" phase of a developing bipolar disorder. That would fuckin' suck.
Actually, I HAVE written quite a bit in the last little while. I'll be inspired to write about something, I'll sit and punch it out, and then read it....only to select-all-delete the whole damn thing.
Why?
Because nine times out of ten the tone of my writing was bitter, judgemental, and just plain stinkin' negative. And I din't like it one bit.
Topics included that high school quarterback to killed himself in a drunken car accident, Rev. Jerry F.'s death, some bits n' pieces in our fair local newspaper, etc. But my take on each of those things had a decidedly hurtful slant to it, and I did not like how I sounded. And no amount of clever wordplay seemed to diminish the meanness of my commentary.
Something has shifted in me recently. Now, I'm still acerbic, sardonic, and critical. I don't think that my wit has dulled in any way.
But I (re)started this blog to hone my writing and simultaneously get some stuff out, and part of that is picking and choosing how I present myself. It is a theme that has manifested itself in my home, my diet, and my body. I welcome the change.
I just hope this isn't the "manic" phase of a developing bipolar disorder. That would fuckin' suck.
Wednesday, May 02, 2007
now i don't feel so bad...
This story strikes me as funny...
From yesterday's AJC:
SUNBURY, Pa. — A woman accused of holding police at bay by brandishing poisonous snakes was sentenced to house arrest and probation.
"I just wasn't in the right frame of mind that night," said Terry Jackson, 36, at her sentencing Monday.
Officers were trying to prevent the despondent woman from harming herself with a hunting knife when the confrontation took place Oct. 25, police said.
Jackson picked up two western diamondback rattlesnakes, a pygmy rattlesnake and two copperheads to try to keep police from taking her into custody, authorities said.
Jackson, who was raising the snakes for laboratories, received several bites during the standoff and was taken to a hospital after police subdued her with a stun gun.
The snakes were later donated to a zoo in Hershey.
I LOVE it: "I just wasn't in the right frame of mind that night."
Brilliant.
From yesterday's AJC:
SUNBURY, Pa. — A woman accused of holding police at bay by brandishing poisonous snakes was sentenced to house arrest and probation.
"I just wasn't in the right frame of mind that night," said Terry Jackson, 36, at her sentencing Monday.
Officers were trying to prevent the despondent woman from harming herself with a hunting knife when the confrontation took place Oct. 25, police said.
Jackson picked up two western diamondback rattlesnakes, a pygmy rattlesnake and two copperheads to try to keep police from taking her into custody, authorities said.
Jackson, who was raising the snakes for laboratories, received several bites during the standoff and was taken to a hospital after police subdued her with a stun gun.
The snakes were later donated to a zoo in Hershey.
I LOVE it: "I just wasn't in the right frame of mind that night."
Brilliant.
Thursday, April 26, 2007
a list
I mean, a list as in a SINGLE list, not as in "A-list..."
* For the first time this year, I'm sitting on my porch and enjoying the amazing weather...and a fairly decent ten-dollar-bottle of chardonnay. Why isn't chardonnay spelled "chardonne?"
* Anne Pitoniak died. Look her up. Basically, she created onstage every great "strong older woman" role that Anne Bancroft would then play on film (in her own later life). I met her briefly, and find her story to be extraordinary. I mean, she picked up acting in her mid-50's and has portrayed some of the strongest women in contemporary theater...
* I have the urge to plant, clean, and take better care of myself. Would some astrologer please let me know what's going on?
* I may temper the truth (or embellish it, for that matter), but I will NEVER lie to a friend. I may ask them to ask me no questions, I may plead the fifth, I may just shut up and walk away. But I will never, ever lie. And that's the only negative thing I wish to say today...
* I chose to avoid temptation last night and it seems to have been a wise decision.
* Did you ever reconnect with somebody from your past and realize that you still have feelings for this person? I love when that happens...
* On tap for the weekend: a FABulous Ladies Who Lunch Dinner with the OSW, a 100% Work-Free Day on Saturday, and good times on Sunday.
Life, y'all, does not suck.
* For the first time this year, I'm sitting on my porch and enjoying the amazing weather...and a fairly decent ten-dollar-bottle of chardonnay. Why isn't chardonnay spelled "chardonne?"
* Anne Pitoniak died. Look her up. Basically, she created onstage every great "strong older woman" role that Anne Bancroft would then play on film (in her own later life). I met her briefly, and find her story to be extraordinary. I mean, she picked up acting in her mid-50's and has portrayed some of the strongest women in contemporary theater...
* I have the urge to plant, clean, and take better care of myself. Would some astrologer please let me know what's going on?
* I may temper the truth (or embellish it, for that matter), but I will NEVER lie to a friend. I may ask them to ask me no questions, I may plead the fifth, I may just shut up and walk away. But I will never, ever lie. And that's the only negative thing I wish to say today...
* I chose to avoid temptation last night and it seems to have been a wise decision.
* Did you ever reconnect with somebody from your past and realize that you still have feelings for this person? I love when that happens...
* On tap for the weekend: a FABulous Ladies Who Lunch Dinner with the OSW, a 100% Work-Free Day on Saturday, and good times on Sunday.
Life, y'all, does not suck.
Sunday, April 22, 2007
tmi
I love my family...I really, really, do...
But...
I just sat at dinner with six baby boomers: my parents, my father's two brothers, and their wives. The topic of discussion? Bodily functions, medical procedures, and illnesses.
Once again, my experience has become a cliche.
I seem to recall that years ago, there was a trend amongst stand up comics to complain about their parents' inability to utter the name of certain diseases, or to grouse about their parents' propensity towards discussing certain bodily difficulties. I thought it was specific to the eighties, and hoped that it might pass. "Your Uncle Marty...? He has... (whisper) cancer."
Apparently, it is something that afflicts all generations: at some point, we all are shocked by the fact that our parents no longer consider propriety when choosing to relate their stories of digital exams and mammograms.
I'm glad that they have these procedures. I love that they take care of their bodies.
But sheesh...do I need to hear a twist-by-turn account of the latest colonoscopy over dinner?
But...
I just sat at dinner with six baby boomers: my parents, my father's two brothers, and their wives. The topic of discussion? Bodily functions, medical procedures, and illnesses.
Once again, my experience has become a cliche.
I seem to recall that years ago, there was a trend amongst stand up comics to complain about their parents' inability to utter the name of certain diseases, or to grouse about their parents' propensity towards discussing certain bodily difficulties. I thought it was specific to the eighties, and hoped that it might pass. "Your Uncle Marty...? He has... (whisper) cancer."
Apparently, it is something that afflicts all generations: at some point, we all are shocked by the fact that our parents no longer consider propriety when choosing to relate their stories of digital exams and mammograms.
I'm glad that they have these procedures. I love that they take care of their bodies.
But sheesh...do I need to hear a twist-by-turn account of the latest colonoscopy over dinner?
Wednesday, April 18, 2007
a single voice of reason
Like just about everyone else in America, I'm saddened and disgusted by the massacre at Virginia Tech. I'm inspired by the people who did what they could to save lives, and amazed at the resilience of the people who have vowed to overcome this tragedy and keep their school's identity alive.
However, the thing that really kills me is the inevitable psychocrap that surrounds these things. Everyone wants to know what was going through that boy's mind when he shot everyone, and there's all this talk about him being "troubled."
Well, God bless CNN.com for printing the words of one with whom the shooter had contact, a professor who detected his weirdness early and took steps to both expose his violence and - more importantly - get the fuck away from him.
Nikki Giovanni, a poetry professor who worked with the shooter before demanding that he be removed from her class, had this to say about her former student:
"Giovanni said she's taught her share of oddballs in the past, but there was something malicious about Cho's behavior.
'I know we're talking about a troubled youngster and crap like that, but troubled youngsters get drunk and jump off buildings; troubled youngsters drink and drive,' she said. 'I've taught troubled youngsters. I've taught crazy people. It was the meanness that bothered me. It was a really mean streak.' "
Some people are just bad, wicked, or (dare I say it?) evil. The professor's comments will probably get buried by a million other perspectives on this tragedy, but I'm glad her observations made it online.
However, the thing that really kills me is the inevitable psychocrap that surrounds these things. Everyone wants to know what was going through that boy's mind when he shot everyone, and there's all this talk about him being "troubled."
Well, God bless CNN.com for printing the words of one with whom the shooter had contact, a professor who detected his weirdness early and took steps to both expose his violence and - more importantly - get the fuck away from him.
Nikki Giovanni, a poetry professor who worked with the shooter before demanding that he be removed from her class, had this to say about her former student:
"Giovanni said she's taught her share of oddballs in the past, but there was something malicious about Cho's behavior.
'I know we're talking about a troubled youngster and crap like that, but troubled youngsters get drunk and jump off buildings; troubled youngsters drink and drive,' she said. 'I've taught troubled youngsters. I've taught crazy people. It was the meanness that bothered me. It was a really mean streak.' "
Some people are just bad, wicked, or (dare I say it?) evil. The professor's comments will probably get buried by a million other perspectives on this tragedy, but I'm glad her observations made it online.
Wednesday, April 11, 2007
oxymoron of the decade
You know, every now and then you just find some wonderful stuff on cnn.com.
So Johnny Cash's old house burned down today. The cnn.com report gave a long history of the house, and then this tidbit:
"The cause is unknown, but Steele said the flames spread quickly because construction workers had recently applied a flammable wood preservative to the exterior of the house. The preservative was also being applied inside the house."
Flammable wood preservative? What? If there's one thing that is absolutely NOT preservative of wood, I would think it would be something that was...oh, FLAMMABLE?
Ring of fire, indeed...
So Johnny Cash's old house burned down today. The cnn.com report gave a long history of the house, and then this tidbit:
"The cause is unknown, but Steele said the flames spread quickly because construction workers had recently applied a flammable wood preservative to the exterior of the house. The preservative was also being applied inside the house."
Flammable wood preservative? What? If there's one thing that is absolutely NOT preservative of wood, I would think it would be something that was...oh, FLAMMABLE?
Ring of fire, indeed...
Tuesday, April 03, 2007
in other news...
I read something on Playbill.com today that just killed me.
As many of you know, I relish the opportunity to see bad, bad theater. The higher the stakes, the bigger the flop, the more hilarious I find it. Ken Mandelbaum wrote a wonderful book called, "Not Since Carrie: Forty Years of Broadway Musical Flops" that hits the nail on the head.
Well, the title of the book refers to perhaps the greatest musical flop of all time, an adaptation of Stephen King's classic novel of teen angst, "Carrie." It was a colossal flop, only lasted a few days, and instantly entered Broadway musical legend.
One of the myriad baffling elements of the play was the production concept, which suggested a contemporized Greek tragedy. For some inexplicable reason, the director convinced everyone to apply a classical spin to everything in the show: the set was stark with columns, the costumes suggested togas, etc.
Well, Playbill.com's Seth Rudetsky recently chatted with Broadway baby Charlotte D'Amboise, who was lucky enough to be a part of "Carrie." And here's what they had to say...
"Of course, I obsessively talked about her experience in Carrie, and she confirmed what I had heard. Here's the deal — what has always made the story of Carrie so scary is that it essentially takes place in a typical high school in Anytown USA . . . sort of like Grease. Someone said that to the director, and he agreed immediately . . . but the person telling the director didn't clarify the spelling. So, instead of the set being a typical high school and the kids wearing clothes from a mall, the costumes and sets represented . . . Greece! Seriously! All white costumes — big white columns."
My. God.
how odd...
You know, it seems that death and sadness always surround me at this time of year. Which is strange to me, because my city is bursting into bloom as we speak.
A friend of a friend died last week, prompting them all to band together in grief. I did not know her (I met "the gang" after everyone had gone down other paths), but still...it hurts me to see my friends in pain, even though the importance of life is not lost on these wonderful people.
A friend of the family passed away yesterday, unexpectedly. My folks are being their usual wonderful selves, supporting and being good friends.
Another friend of mine had a health scare and, while not a "death" experience, it certainly brought her mortality into the fore.
And, you know, two years ago a dear friend was diagnosed with cancer. A year later - at this time of year - he died.
What is it about this time of year? And I'm not even bringing up the Jesus thing.
I'm rambling, but I suspect the point is a cliche: life goes on, the circle of life, enjoy the time you have, treasure every moment, etc. It is simultaneously maddening and empowering that the song "The Hokey Pokey" got it right:
"That's what it's all about."
I think I'll go shake it all about.
A friend of a friend died last week, prompting them all to band together in grief. I did not know her (I met "the gang" after everyone had gone down other paths), but still...it hurts me to see my friends in pain, even though the importance of life is not lost on these wonderful people.
A friend of the family passed away yesterday, unexpectedly. My folks are being their usual wonderful selves, supporting and being good friends.
Another friend of mine had a health scare and, while not a "death" experience, it certainly brought her mortality into the fore.
And, you know, two years ago a dear friend was diagnosed with cancer. A year later - at this time of year - he died.
What is it about this time of year? And I'm not even bringing up the Jesus thing.
I'm rambling, but I suspect the point is a cliche: life goes on, the circle of life, enjoy the time you have, treasure every moment, etc. It is simultaneously maddening and empowering that the song "The Hokey Pokey" got it right:
"That's what it's all about."
I think I'll go shake it all about.
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