Monday, January 16, 2012
Saturday, January 14, 2012
Friday, January 13, 2012
Bad Meat!
When the below study was released today, I was especially freaked out by just how bad processed meats were for you. I mean, I KNEW they weren't GREAT, but... just a serving a day can raise the cancer risk by 20%? Ick.
I just took a look around my fridge, freezer, and cabinet: sausage, hotdogs, all kinds of pizza, deli turkey meat, Beenie-Weenies, Lean Pockets, frozen beef burritos, canned chili, a frozen enchilada dinner... The only "real" meat I have around is hamburger meat. [See below about red meat.] I feel kind of nauseous thinking about it. I guess I thought that since I also eat vegetables and drink orange juice every day, they'd counteract the nastiness of the processed meat, but that's really "magical thinking"!
I don't really cook, but I guess I do need to focus on chicken, fish, tuna for meat when I HAVE to have meat (often beans/rice or a baked potato or spaghetti/non-meat sauce or a salad are fine with me)... Just seeing the above list of crappy meat in the house was really gross.
http://www.medpagetoday.com/PrimaryCare/DietNutrition/30661
"...[the Karolinska Institute of Stockholm] found that eating at least 120 grams per day of red meat ... was associated with an almost 30% increased risk of pancreatic cancer in men ... Red meat didn't raise the risk of pancreatic cancer in women, and the researchers said that men generally ate more red meat. That could mean there may be an association between the highest levels of red meat intake and pancreatic cancer risk, they noted.
Processed meat, on the other hand, was associated with a significant increase in pancreatic cancer risk all around. For every daily 50-gram standard serving [2 pieces of bacon, 1 sausage], relative risk of the disease rose 19% ...
That increase is likely related to the nitrites and N-nitroso compounds found in processed meats, which have been shown to be carcinogenic and to induce pancreatic cancer in animal models, the researchers wrote."
I just took a look around my fridge, freezer, and cabinet: sausage, hotdogs, all kinds of pizza, deli turkey meat, Beenie-Weenies, Lean Pockets, frozen beef burritos, canned chili, a frozen enchilada dinner... The only "real" meat I have around is hamburger meat. [See below about red meat.] I feel kind of nauseous thinking about it. I guess I thought that since I also eat vegetables and drink orange juice every day, they'd counteract the nastiness of the processed meat, but that's really "magical thinking"!
I don't really cook, but I guess I do need to focus on chicken, fish, tuna for meat when I HAVE to have meat (often beans/rice or a baked potato or spaghetti/non-meat sauce or a salad are fine with me)... Just seeing the above list of crappy meat in the house was really gross.
http://www.medpagetoday.com/PrimaryCare/DietNutrition/30661
"...[the Karolinska Institute of Stockholm] found that eating at least 120 grams per day of red meat ... was associated with an almost 30% increased risk of pancreatic cancer in men ... Red meat didn't raise the risk of pancreatic cancer in women, and the researchers said that men generally ate more red meat. That could mean there may be an association between the highest levels of red meat intake and pancreatic cancer risk, they noted.
Processed meat, on the other hand, was associated with a significant increase in pancreatic cancer risk all around. For every daily 50-gram standard serving [2 pieces of bacon, 1 sausage], relative risk of the disease rose 19% ...
That increase is likely related to the nitrites and N-nitroso compounds found in processed meats, which have been shown to be carcinogenic and to induce pancreatic cancer in animal models, the researchers wrote."
Tuesday, January 10, 2012
S. Said, S. Said (1966)
She said "I know what it's like to be dead.
I know what it is to be sad"
And she's making me feel like I've never been born.
I know what it is to be sad"
And she's making me feel like I've never been born.
Sunday, January 08, 2012
It won't mean a thing in a 100 years.
I was in a sandwich shop on this pleasant Saturday, and this was one of the piped-in songs while I was waiting. I started crying. (I mean, not loudly "boo-hooing" but tearing up!) :) From 1990, when I saw things more philosophically rather than drearily, as of the past two years!
(Wonder if the sandwich shop chose this song because of the "my hunger is real" lyric?) :)
The sun is warm as the day is long
I just got the feeling I can do no wrong
I've got a long way to walk
Can't afford my next meal
I tell a few lies but my hunger is real
And it won't mean a thing in a hundred years
No, it won't mean a thing in a hundred years
Mademoiselle tell me do you play
Well, if she shakes her head, well then that's okay
I watch her walk away in haste
There's just no accounting for some people's taste,
And it won't mean a thing in a hundred years
No, it won't mean a thing in a hundred years
Big angry man in the doorway there
Just keep on walking like I don't care
Why you giving such an evil eye
Could it be you were ignored by every passerby
And it won't mean a thing in a hundred years
No, it won't mean a thing in a hundred years
Play in the park for tobacco and food
Then I excuse myself but they think I'm rude
Tourist don't want me to end his show
But this colorful attraction got places to go
And it won't mean a thing in a hundred years
No, it won't mean a thing in a hundred years
Sit at the pier watch the sun go down
Another lost little boy in a big old town
I want to laugh I want to cry
But no matter how hard I may try
It won't mean a thing in a hundred years
No, it won't mean a thing in a hundred years
It won't mean a thing in a hundred years
No, it won't mean a thing in a hundred years
(Wonder if the sandwich shop chose this song because of the "my hunger is real" lyric?) :)
The sun is warm as the day is long
I just got the feeling I can do no wrong
I've got a long way to walk
Can't afford my next meal
I tell a few lies but my hunger is real
And it won't mean a thing in a hundred years
No, it won't mean a thing in a hundred years
Mademoiselle tell me do you play
Well, if she shakes her head, well then that's okay
I watch her walk away in haste
There's just no accounting for some people's taste,
And it won't mean a thing in a hundred years
No, it won't mean a thing in a hundred years
Big angry man in the doorway there
Just keep on walking like I don't care
Why you giving such an evil eye
Could it be you were ignored by every passerby
And it won't mean a thing in a hundred years
No, it won't mean a thing in a hundred years
Play in the park for tobacco and food
Then I excuse myself but they think I'm rude
Tourist don't want me to end his show
But this colorful attraction got places to go
And it won't mean a thing in a hundred years
No, it won't mean a thing in a hundred years
Sit at the pier watch the sun go down
Another lost little boy in a big old town
I want to laugh I want to cry
But no matter how hard I may try
It won't mean a thing in a hundred years
No, it won't mean a thing in a hundred years
It won't mean a thing in a hundred years
No, it won't mean a thing in a hundred years
Saturday, January 07, 2012
Republicans on a Saturday Night
Just finished watching the Repub debate on ABC. Last Q was what each would normally be doing on a Saturday night...
Rick Perry would be at the shooting range. (yee-haw/fake super-butch)
Huntsman would be on the phone with his two sons in the Navy. (yawn/fake super-patriot)
Gingrich: "I'd be watching the championship basketball game on TV. I mean -- football." (Even if you meant "football," Newt, the college championship is Monday.)
Santorum: "I'd be watching the championship game." (See above.)
Romney: "The football game. I love football." (See above.)
Ron Paul: "I'd be with my family, and if they went to bed, I'd read an economics book." :)
Thank you, Ron Paul, for the only NON-PHONY answer of the bunch! (I don't even mind the stupid "shooting range" and "Navy sons" answers in comparison to pretending to be into football when you're obviously not. Ugh.)
Rick Perry would be at the shooting range. (yee-haw/fake super-butch)
Huntsman would be on the phone with his two sons in the Navy. (yawn/fake super-patriot)
Gingrich: "I'd be watching the championship basketball game on TV. I mean -- football." (Even if you meant "football," Newt, the college championship is Monday.)
Santorum: "I'd be watching the championship game." (See above.)
Romney: "The football game. I love football." (See above.)
Ron Paul: "I'd be with my family, and if they went to bed, I'd read an economics book." :)
Thank you, Ron Paul, for the only NON-PHONY answer of the bunch! (I don't even mind the stupid "shooting range" and "Navy sons" answers in comparison to pretending to be into football when you're obviously not. Ugh.)
Like Kites
Today smells like kites,
mesquite trees, tumbleweeds; my spying the secret fort
(from the one two-story house on the block),
wrecked within weeks after I'd told and told.
Ice-cream, too. The Dairy Queen man, with his wife and kids,
ordering me a "secret" cone, despite my own sundae.
He stared to make sure of his gift, which I threw away.
And it smells like the rocks that I picked and picked
from our two-story front yard and tossed in paper bags.
Neighbors mocked: "You'll never get rid of all of those!"
I did, we did. Grass grew. And then we moved.
I like the smell of kites in January, a month
used to strings of things still hanging around, useless.
mesquite trees, tumbleweeds; my spying the secret fort
(from the one two-story house on the block),
wrecked within weeks after I'd told and told.
Ice-cream, too. The Dairy Queen man, with his wife and kids,
ordering me a "secret" cone, despite my own sundae.
He stared to make sure of his gift, which I threw away.
And it smells like the rocks that I picked and picked
from our two-story front yard and tossed in paper bags.
Neighbors mocked: "You'll never get rid of all of those!"
I did, we did. Grass grew. And then we moved.
I like the smell of kites in January, a month
used to strings of things still hanging around, useless.
Thursday, January 05, 2012
In Passing
Back in the early '90s, I'd been in and out of college for years. Partly for money reasons -- I often had to drop out and take a full-time campus job to survive -- but also because I had a Romantic childhood notion about what I'd thought was "The College Experience." I.e., a "Great Enlightening," both intellectually, spiritually, physically (via sensitive college-boy lovers and/or professors). As I slogged on through school, I began to realize that there was no "Great Enlightening" gonna come. It was all a myth, like there being no Santa! And so I sat down and figured out exactly how many credit hours I needed to graduate, and then just did it. Just slogged it out just to say I'd gotten my degree.
Same thing with grad school. Even after the whole drab undergraduate experience, I STILL Romantically thought that my writing grad school would be different: In a different town, I'd meet people serious about writing; we'd all gather after class to talk about writing; etc. In San Francisco, I'd really have a "Great Enlightening" in every way! Nah. It was more slogging out. The students there didn't particularly care, the professors weren't profound. (Blatantly liking only the type of writing that THEY wrote or, worse, writing that fit their "theory" of writing. Famously, one gay male professor initially mocked me for saying I liked Norman Mailer. He then ignored me for the first couple of classes. Then I mentioned in a poem something about being gay... After that, I was his favorite. Same with a female professor who disliked my verbiage in my poems. One day, I went to the library to look up her own work -- extremely stripped down. So, for fun, I edited one of my poems to look and sound exactly like hers... After that, I was her favorite.) Just slogged this bullshit out to get my Master's degree and say I had one.
RE all of the above: What if marriage is exactly the same way?! You initially, as a kid, start out thinking being with someone should be some sort of "Great Enlightening"... and then you figure out that, no, it's not, but perhaps you should just do it... just to say you had, just to show you'd jumped through the appropriate hoops. Just to make your everyday social life a little easier.
I gave in and did with college what I didn't feel, just to say I'd done it. Got some satisfaction out of it at the end, just the fact that I had degrees. So maybe I should give in and just do "the couple thang" now with whoever, just to have someone to go to movies and cafes with? It won't feel exactly right to my soul, but I will, at the end, have someone intelligent to talk to and there will be some everyday social satisfaction and comfort out of it: Here I am, WITH someone! We're a couple! AND I have a Master's! :)
What a hit. Especially at holidays. OK Santa?
Sunday, January 01, 2012
New Year's Eve and Sex with Rick Perry
On the afternoon of the New Year's Eve, I did useful stuff: went grocery shopping, returned library books, went and got some little stuff from Marshall's with my $50 Christmas gift card ($4 worth of Jelly Bellies, a bath-mat for $5). Then came home and took out the trash, did dishes.While I was out, did mind tricks: "What if I were out doing errands on the day of New Year's Eve and actually looking forward to something to do that night, too..."
Thinking "what if" put me in a better mood.
In actuality, I did feel relatively good. But I expected some brou-ha-ha, being New Year's Eve. Last night, for instance, the neighbors in the 2 houses next door started shooting off fireworks around 11:45pm, going on for the next 2 hours. I called the cops, I got so sick of it. Then tonight on New Year's, I called the cops again because the neighbors started their fireworks around 8:45pm. And went on. And on. And on. Not just little Black Cats, but loud stuff jolting me out of my chair!
There's an Austin ordinance against fireworks in the city limits. Matters not, apparently, since the cops never came, but at least I'm on record about being disturbed. Obviously, would much rather have had something to do tonight other than being at home and being officially bothered by neighbors!
Oh, re "sex with Rick Perry": The night before New Year's Eve, had not just one but TWO dreams about having sex with him! Have never liked him, not a Republican, etc. But the sex dreams were hot! ;p So much so that the next day I turned on C-SPAN just to see SOMETHING, ANYTHING with Rick Perry in Iowa!
Oh my god, I have indeed, in my utter isolation, gone completely mad! ;p Well, maybe not so much: Rick Perry and Mitt Romney sex dreams are still (barely) within the realm of normal, I suppose. (Hey, I did briefly have a Mormon boyfriend in high school.)
If I, in the future, report anything at all sexual about Newt Gingrich or Rick Santorum, however... Ewwwww.
p.s. Just looked up both Perry and Romney on Wikipedia: Pisces, both. Their eyes. Sex.
p.p.s. Just yelled out the window at the assholes next door shooting off fireworks at 3:30am: "Shut the fuck up, you asshole frat-boys, it's 3 am!" (They're asshole wimpy HIPSTERS, so I thought the "frat-boy" thing would get their goat.) I got one yell back: "RELAX." To which I responded: "It's fucking 3 am! Shut the fuck up!"
I enjoyed going NEW YORK/NEW JERSEY on their dumb Austin asses. They're not used to screaming and confrontation. Just try me, stupid, loud fuckers. Just try me. I've called the police twice tonight. I'm just dying to go over there myself. God, I'm so mad and just drunk enough. Rick Perry-sex mad and drunk enough to fight because I have nothing at all better to do.
ppps: As of 4am: No other noise...
I do, though, think that in the very near future I need to be fucking -- yes, fucking -- some older, good-looking, take-charge Texas man. This silly Internet stuff for the past 3 years with so-and-so has been ridiculous! No more wimps!
pppps: I do like the fact that Rick Perry's favorite movie is apparently "Immortal Beloved"! That is sexy. His pick, and the others below, came from the conservative "Washington Times" from a story on 10/30/11:
• Newt Gingrich — Casablanca
• Michele Bachmann — Braveheart (Or Saving Private Ryan)
• Rick Santorum — Field of Dreams (among others)
• Ron Paul – Ron Paul does not really watch movies
• Mitt Romney — O Brother, Where Art Thou?
Barack Obama has listed Casablanca, The Godfather, Lawrence of Arabia, and One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest as his favorite movies.
-------------------
Aside from "Immortal Beloved," I must say that I'm most enthusiastic about the non-generic choices of "O Brother, Where Are Thou?" and "One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest"!
Friday, December 30, 2011
Wow! I'm the loud one!
A very handsome black man with dreds and a British accent just knocked on my door at 1am:
"I'm not sure if you're the one, but I live below and I think your music might be too loud." Now THAT is how to ask!
I was blasting K.T. Tunstall's "Eye to the Telescope" album, with "Another Place to Fall" at that moment. Happy to be feeling so loud. But then also happy to be a good neighbor and politely turn my stuff down.
"I'm not sure if you're the one, but I live below and I think your music might be too loud." Now THAT is how to ask!
I was blasting K.T. Tunstall's "Eye to the Telescope" album, with "Another Place to Fall" at that moment. Happy to be feeling so loud. But then also happy to be a good neighbor and politely turn my stuff down.
Wednesday, December 28, 2011
Sinead O'Connor's recipe for love
Just heard on Fox News (of all places!) that Sinead O'Connor has just divorced her 3rd or 4th husband (or something) after 16 or 18 (or something) days. This in light of her recent September 2011 call for a fuck on her website:
16.09.11 Revised advert for boy (man) friend.
Having at first in humour used words like "hump" , "banana", "yam, "aubergine" and "difficult brown" when advertising to find boy (man) friend I have attracted only the type of men I might catch crabs from even purely by e mailing them, so I now wish to make a clearer advert concerning exactly what it is I seek.
1. A man not under 44. NON-NEGOTIABLE
2. Has to live in Ireland. NON-NEGOTIABLE.
3. Preferably Dublin or Wicklow but other counties will be considered due to appalling desperateness of shit-uation.
4 Has to actually be single. NON-NE-FUCKING-GOTIABLE
5. Preferably sterile. (The lady doesn't want any more pregnancies)
6. VERY physically affectionate. NON-NEGOTIABLE (the lady needs lots of affection and will reciprocate. The lady HAS a lot of affection and wishes to give it)
7. Funny. (The lady is funny)
8. Eccentric. (The lady is a looper)
9. Interested in and capable of sex at least once a day.. (If the lady feels like it).
10. Sexually must be very loving, cuddly, affectionate, sweet, funny, and also reasonably filthy. (The lady is all of the above and will absolutely reciprocate)
11. There must be a LOT of kissing before during and after love-making (The lady likes kissing).
12.. Must provide me with Fry's chocolate cream bars (NOT a euphemism for anal sex) at least once a week and do all he can to ensure the Fry's people never go out of business. (The lady loves Fry's chocolate creams. Crunchies, peanut m+ms, and chili-chocolate may be substituted if Fry's are sold out)
13. Re-iterate.. Has to be blind/mad enough to think I'm gorgeous.
14. Has tell me I'm gorgeous at least ten times a day. (The lady will reciprocate)
15. Re-iterate.. No Nigels. NON-NEGOTIABLE
16. Re-iterate.. No hair gel. Hair dryers, or general hair faffery. NON-NEGOTIABLE
17. Must be hairy. No waxed or buffed need apply. NON-NEGOTIABLE. ( bald heads are however, acceptable as the whole man looks like an erection. Especially if a tiny 'eye' is painted on top of head)
18. Must be stubbly. ABSOLUTELY NON-NE-FUCKING-GOTIABLE
19. No after-shave. This ruins the delicious smell of stubble. (The lady LOVES stubbly man-smell and beard rash)
20. Must be employed NON-NEGOTIABLE. Re-iterate.. No vehicle clampers.
21. No pierced nipples.
22 No addictions other than sex, cigarettes or coffee (the lady loves all three)
23. No jealous psycho exes NON-NEGOTIABLE (the lady has had enough of those)
24. No homo-phobes. NON-NE-FUCKING-GOTIABLE
25. No 'right-wingers' of any kind.
26. No accountants (boring)
27. No stamp collectors (flaccid)
28. No Knob-cheese.
29. Must, when lady is 'moody' or 'cross' dis-arm her with love-making. This is the secret key.
In return, the lucky man chosen will be given the vast quantities of love, affection, kisses, cuddles, sweet-nothings whispered in ears, friendship, support, encouragement, compliments, and most importantly, regular sweet and filthy, loving sex.
The lady is a woman FULL to the brim of love and affection. And un-happy at not having a man to give it to. So if u are out there please hurry. I'm lovely. U want me. U deserve me. I'm worth it. Oh.. And I smell really good too. And am a CHAMPION cuddler and giver of tenderness.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
Despite all of the sad above... When Sinead O'Connor first came out in the '80s, she was startling and wild and interesting. What's happened to her in the meantime--marrying multiple times and having multiple kids and now begging for dates--is embarrassing and a shame. Here's how she was when I knew her, bringing her real, inspirational self to the self-satisfied Grammys in 1989. (She certainly ain't so inspirational 20 years later!):
16.09.11 Revised advert for boy (man) friend.
Having at first in humour used words like "hump" , "banana", "yam, "aubergine" and "difficult brown" when advertising to find boy (man) friend I have attracted only the type of men I might catch crabs from even purely by e mailing them, so I now wish to make a clearer advert concerning exactly what it is I seek.
1. A man not under 44. NON-NEGOTIABLE
2. Has to live in Ireland. NON-NEGOTIABLE.
3. Preferably Dublin or Wicklow but other counties will be considered due to appalling desperateness of shit-uation.
4 Has to actually be single. NON-NE-FUCKING-GOTIABLE
5. Preferably sterile. (The lady doesn't want any more pregnancies)
6. VERY physically affectionate. NON-NEGOTIABLE (the lady needs lots of affection and will reciprocate. The lady HAS a lot of affection and wishes to give it)
7. Funny. (The lady is funny)
8. Eccentric. (The lady is a looper)
9. Interested in and capable of sex at least once a day.. (If the lady feels like it).
10. Sexually must be very loving, cuddly, affectionate, sweet, funny, and also reasonably filthy. (The lady is all of the above and will absolutely reciprocate)
11. There must be a LOT of kissing before during and after love-making (The lady likes kissing).
12.. Must provide me with Fry's chocolate cream bars (NOT a euphemism for anal sex) at least once a week and do all he can to ensure the Fry's people never go out of business. (The lady loves Fry's chocolate creams. Crunchies, peanut m+ms, and chili-chocolate may be substituted if Fry's are sold out)
13. Re-iterate.. Has to be blind/mad enough to think I'm gorgeous.
14. Has tell me I'm gorgeous at least ten times a day. (The lady will reciprocate)
15. Re-iterate.. No Nigels. NON-NEGOTIABLE
16. Re-iterate.. No hair gel. Hair dryers, or general hair faffery. NON-NEGOTIABLE
17. Must be hairy. No waxed or buffed need apply. NON-NEGOTIABLE. ( bald heads are however, acceptable as the whole man looks like an erection. Especially if a tiny 'eye' is painted on top of head)
18. Must be stubbly. ABSOLUTELY NON-NE-FUCKING-GOTIABLE
19. No after-shave. This ruins the delicious smell of stubble. (The lady LOVES stubbly man-smell and beard rash)
20. Must be employed NON-NEGOTIABLE. Re-iterate.. No vehicle clampers.
21. No pierced nipples.
22 No addictions other than sex, cigarettes or coffee (the lady loves all three)
23. No jealous psycho exes NON-NEGOTIABLE (the lady has had enough of those)
24. No homo-phobes. NON-NE-FUCKING-GOTIABLE
25. No 'right-wingers' of any kind.
26. No accountants (boring)
27. No stamp collectors (flaccid)
28. No Knob-cheese.
29. Must, when lady is 'moody' or 'cross' dis-arm her with love-making. This is the secret key.
In return, the lucky man chosen will be given the vast quantities of love, affection, kisses, cuddles, sweet-nothings whispered in ears, friendship, support, encouragement, compliments, and most importantly, regular sweet and filthy, loving sex.
The lady is a woman FULL to the brim of love and affection. And un-happy at not having a man to give it to. So if u are out there please hurry. I'm lovely. U want me. U deserve me. I'm worth it. Oh.. And I smell really good too. And am a CHAMPION cuddler and giver of tenderness.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
Despite all of the sad above... When Sinead O'Connor first came out in the '80s, she was startling and wild and interesting. What's happened to her in the meantime--marrying multiple times and having multiple kids and now begging for dates--is embarrassing and a shame. Here's how she was when I knew her, bringing her real, inspirational self to the self-satisfied Grammys in 1989. (She certainly ain't so inspirational 20 years later!):
Tuesday, December 27, 2011
These SHOES are dangerous!
I just bought these gorgeous $229 Sesto Meucci shoes for $92!!! The only problem with having something beautiful like this in my wardrobe...now the rest of my stuff looks shabby in comparison! (NOTE TO SELF: Get job. With job comes money for GREAT SHOES--not just "sustenance shoes"--on a regular basis. Hmmm.)
My favorite post-Christmas stuff...
My mom called me today, the day after Christmas; she'd gone to the Monday sales and bought a BED-PAD for me since I'd been complaining about how harsh the springs were on the bed that I'd bought for cheap just last year. (Seriously, all of my adult life, I've bought nothing but cheap mattresses, which have never bothered me at all, but the set I bought last year upon moving into my one-room apartment has been the worst EVER! The springs, after only a year, have literally poked through the fabric and have been constantly poking ME while I've tried to sleep!)
When my mom arrived with her gift bed-pad and I asked her to "feel, just FEEL" how bad the springs had been, her first thought was, "They're bad. But since the springs were that bad, why didn't you just turn the mattress over? This mattress isn't that heavy. You probably could have lifted it by yourself."
Aaargh! Yes, indeed, I could have! Why I didn't think of that, I do not know! :)
So we turned the mattress over, got the new thick bed-pad on, and... VOILA! A nice new comfy bed! (Or so they say; I haven't slept on it yet. We shall see, and I'm sure I shall report...)
After the bed-pad was on, I didn't want the fun to end, so I asked my mom if she wanted to go to the close-by thrift store, just to be out and doing something on this pretty day... OK!
And there I got ALL of these books for only $2.50!! Shopping for books is like shopping for SHOES to me -- extremely psyche-satisfying... Except when I just went shoe-shopping last week, I spent $210.00 for 3 pairs ($100, $70, and $40), while when I went book-shopping today, I spent... $2.50 for 7 books!
Monday, December 26, 2011
The Horses are coming!
When I first heard this song, I immediately thought of Sylvia Plath's "Elm." Terrible when the horses have gone off, but... In this song, how wonderful the idea of them on their way back... How missed and still possible they always were/are.
Friday, December 23, 2011
On the Eve of Christmas Eve
Well, this certainly has been a year of doing nothing but treading water!
I was just looking over old blog entries for December of last year... There was stuff in late 2010 like, "Woooo! I just earned enough money for January and February rent!" (Exactly like I just posted a few days ago.) There was stuff last year about not having anywhere to go for Christmas Day itself, since we were having our celebration on Christmas Eve before my bro/wife/boys all went to Houston for her family on Christmas Day. (Same again this year.) There were gripes about a relationship that wouldn't work out. (Same again this year.)
At least last year, though, I was finding some holiday "sparkle" in shopping at Marshall's (with the store's perky Christmas songs). When I went to Marshall's yesterday, there was no music at all! And when I took a bus to downtown Austin this afternoon-into-evening, there were no Christmas lights on Congress Avenue! What the hell, people? Is everyone THAT poor that they can't afford even piped-in Christmas music or lights on the main street of Austin? Come on!
I also don't even have any mildly humorous stories about dilapidated Christmas lights from my mother... This year, just put up the old dollar-store wreath and ribbons that I bought last year. Ho-ho-hum.
Last year's Christmas o' 2010, and the weeks leading up to it, were, for me I guess, semi-worth commenting on because it was my first Christmas back in Austin, after being forced back against my will in March 2010 for financial reasons. I wanted to note the adjustments. But this year, 2011, has just been more of the same crap! Not just Christmas, but everything! A few moments of excitement with work gigs that paid the rent momentarily, but nothing else. No new love, no new creative projects, no new full-time job to enable me to get out of this one room. Like I said, just treading water. Not sinking, thank god, but... dang. This one-room life was kind of interesting for the first 6 months (how I used to live 25 years ago as a student...how would I cope at 45?), but is quite a drag at this point! Doable, but boring!
Next yearly milestone up: New Year's Eve! Last year, spent it lying on my bed flipping between Anderson Cooper on CNN and Andy Cohen on Bravo. Not horribly depressed, just horribly BORED. And vowing then that the next New Year's Eve would be NOTHING like 2010... Ha! I'm pretty sure it's going to be exactly the same! ;p Sigh.
I know there's plenty to learn from being humble. But... I used to be better than this. "Better" meaning, I used to almost constantly have some kind of forward motion, SOME momentum, in my life.
Yes, yes, I get it: Better learn to be "content" with what I have, however stagnant. What I've learned over the past year: I can find stuff to appreciate in Austin: the library, downtown, going to the grocery store, working UT games, buying new socks, the trees outside the window of my one-room apartment. And I appreciate the sporadic jobs.
I GET IT. Can I move back ON now????????????????? I'm sure that outburst is not how it works, but...
Universe, I ain't gonna lie (as all the shirtless, mulleted males say on "Cops" as they're hauled away): I's bored to death with the high point of my day being a transient on a bus telling me I'm pretty after I've shopped at Marshall's for a 3-pack of new socks and am in the process of bussing home to write about it (the socks AND the transient) on my blog. Really now, Universe! Can I get a break and just move ON from this particular "life lesson"? Frankly, socks-n-stuff have grown quite stale.
How 'bout surprising me with something fresh-n-new? (I'm referring to "love" and "a decent job" as opposed to "cancer" and "death," in case you were wondering what "fresh-n-new" meant to me, Universe.)
I was just looking over old blog entries for December of last year... There was stuff in late 2010 like, "Woooo! I just earned enough money for January and February rent!" (Exactly like I just posted a few days ago.) There was stuff last year about not having anywhere to go for Christmas Day itself, since we were having our celebration on Christmas Eve before my bro/wife/boys all went to Houston for her family on Christmas Day. (Same again this year.) There were gripes about a relationship that wouldn't work out. (Same again this year.)
At least last year, though, I was finding some holiday "sparkle" in shopping at Marshall's (with the store's perky Christmas songs). When I went to Marshall's yesterday, there was no music at all! And when I took a bus to downtown Austin this afternoon-into-evening, there were no Christmas lights on Congress Avenue! What the hell, people? Is everyone THAT poor that they can't afford even piped-in Christmas music or lights on the main street of Austin? Come on!
I also don't even have any mildly humorous stories about dilapidated Christmas lights from my mother... This year, just put up the old dollar-store wreath and ribbons that I bought last year. Ho-ho-hum.
Last year's Christmas o' 2010, and the weeks leading up to it, were, for me I guess, semi-worth commenting on because it was my first Christmas back in Austin, after being forced back against my will in March 2010 for financial reasons. I wanted to note the adjustments. But this year, 2011, has just been more of the same crap! Not just Christmas, but everything! A few moments of excitement with work gigs that paid the rent momentarily, but nothing else. No new love, no new creative projects, no new full-time job to enable me to get out of this one room. Like I said, just treading water. Not sinking, thank god, but... dang. This one-room life was kind of interesting for the first 6 months (how I used to live 25 years ago as a student...how would I cope at 45?), but is quite a drag at this point! Doable, but boring!
Next yearly milestone up: New Year's Eve! Last year, spent it lying on my bed flipping between Anderson Cooper on CNN and Andy Cohen on Bravo. Not horribly depressed, just horribly BORED. And vowing then that the next New Year's Eve would be NOTHING like 2010... Ha! I'm pretty sure it's going to be exactly the same! ;p Sigh.
I know there's plenty to learn from being humble. But... I used to be better than this. "Better" meaning, I used to almost constantly have some kind of forward motion, SOME momentum, in my life.
Yes, yes, I get it: Better learn to be "content" with what I have, however stagnant. What I've learned over the past year: I can find stuff to appreciate in Austin: the library, downtown, going to the grocery store, working UT games, buying new socks, the trees outside the window of my one-room apartment. And I appreciate the sporadic jobs.
I GET IT. Can I move back ON now????????????????? I'm sure that outburst is not how it works, but...
Universe, I ain't gonna lie (as all the shirtless, mulleted males say on "Cops" as they're hauled away): I's bored to death with the high point of my day being a transient on a bus telling me I'm pretty after I've shopped at Marshall's for a 3-pack of new socks and am in the process of bussing home to write about it (the socks AND the transient) on my blog. Really now, Universe! Can I get a break and just move ON from this particular "life lesson"? Frankly, socks-n-stuff have grown quite stale.
How 'bout surprising me with something fresh-n-new? (I'm referring to "love" and "a decent job" as opposed to "cancer" and "death," in case you were wondering what "fresh-n-new" meant to me, Universe.)
Thursday, December 22, 2011
Tuesday, December 20, 2011
Done!
First week of December (plus the last part of November) = 25 hours freelance (at $27 an hour).
2nd week of December = 40 hours in an office ($12 an hour) plus 25 hours freelance ($27 an hour).
3rd week of December = 32 hours in an office plus 32 hours freelance.
Today, the 4th week = Finished 6 hours of freelance. Tomorrow, do the last 2 hours of the project. And then........ FREEEEEEEDOMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM!
Well, at least for the rest of the year!
I just worked my ass off all month! ;p And now rent and bills are paid for January AND February!!
Merry Fucking Christmas --- I made it, goddammit! I got money to buy Christmas presents for loved ones, and then rent for the next two months!!!!
Sunday, December 18, 2011
Friday, December 16, 2011
U.S. "Defense"?
On Chris Matthews' MSNBC show Thursday, he closed by stating that the United States was NEVER an aggressor (!) and only reacted militarily when it was attacked, thus the name, "Department of DEFENSE." And Matthews is a Democrat, on a heavily liberal MSNBC!
I'm not that knowledgeable about the subtleties of American military interventions prior to WWII, but I do know something about what all we've done post-WWII.
Below is a handy outline that I copied and pasted from Wikipedia, which in basic form lists all of our country's ongoing military activities and interventions since post-WWII.
I'm curious: In which of the below was the United States acting "in defense"?
2.15 Cold War era (1945–1991)
2.15.1 Postwar Military Reorganization (1947)
2.15.2 Korean War (1950–1953)
2.15.3 Lebanon crisis of 1958
2.15.4 Dominican Intervention
2.15.5 Vietnam War (1955–1975)
2.15.6 Tehran hostage rescue
2.15.7 Grenada
2.15.8 Beirut
2.15.9 Libya
2.15.10 Panama
2.16 Post–Cold War era (1991–2001)
2.16.1 Persian Gulf War (1990–1991)
2.16.2 Somalia
2.16.3 Haiti
2.16.4 Yugoslavia
2.17 War on Terrorism (2001–present)
2.17.1 Afghanistan
2.17.2 Philippines
2.18 Iraq
2.19 Libyan intervention
-----------------------------------------------------------------
As someone pointed out a few months ago: We're ALWAYS at war. The United States has been CONSTANTLY at war for over 50 years now. There's NEVER a break from it. It's like the fucking Orwellian "1984" scenario!
I'd like a fucking break from the constant fucking Perpetual War, please!
I'm not that knowledgeable about the subtleties of American military interventions prior to WWII, but I do know something about what all we've done post-WWII.
Below is a handy outline that I copied and pasted from Wikipedia, which in basic form lists all of our country's ongoing military activities and interventions since post-WWII.
I'm curious: In which of the below was the United States acting "in defense"?
2.15 Cold War era (1945–1991)
2.15.1 Postwar Military Reorganization (1947)
2.15.2 Korean War (1950–1953)
2.15.3 Lebanon crisis of 1958
2.15.4 Dominican Intervention
2.15.5 Vietnam War (1955–1975)
2.15.6 Tehran hostage rescue
2.15.7 Grenada
2.15.8 Beirut
2.15.9 Libya
2.15.10 Panama
2.16 Post–Cold War era (1991–2001)
2.16.1 Persian Gulf War (1990–1991)
2.16.2 Somalia
2.16.3 Haiti
2.16.4 Yugoslavia
2.17 War on Terrorism (2001–present)
2.17.1 Afghanistan
2.17.2 Philippines
2.18 Iraq
2.19 Libyan intervention
-----------------------------------------------------------------
As someone pointed out a few months ago: We're ALWAYS at war. The United States has been CONSTANTLY at war for over 50 years now. There's NEVER a break from it. It's like the fucking Orwellian "1984" scenario!
I'd like a fucking break from the constant fucking Perpetual War, please!
Tuesday, December 13, 2011
And I thought my NYC story was sad...
A fellow temp worker, a 60-ish woman, was talking with someone else about being from New York. So I piped up with, "I lived there for 3 years! I looooooved it!" Then I mentioned that I came back to Austin because I couldn't find steady work and couldn't afford the rent up there, that I really missed it, etc. etc.
Well, HER story tops my Mini Tale of Woe, that's for sure...
She'd lived in NYC all her life. Born in the Bronx, moved to the East Village over 30 years ago. She and her 12-year-old daughter had lived in Stuy Town, a historic rent-controlled building that just about no one can get into any more. (When I worked in the Union Square area, I once spent a lunch hour walking to Stuy Town, since it had been in the news at the time after being sold to a major developer, and I wanted to check it out.)
About the same time I was having trouble finding work in NYC, she lost her longtime, relatively high-paying job (academic support staff). And then struggled along with temp work for a year or so... She ended up having to declare bankruptcy. And lost her prime apartment. And was going to end up on the street until a friend of hers in Austin said she and her daughter could come stay with her. She's been here for about 3 years. At one point had a full-time job at UT but was just laid off several months ago and is again temping. She now lives in a generic, cheap mega-complex way south. No little neighborhood shops and restaurants. No place to walk...
Her story puts my bitchin' and moanin' about my "loss" to shame. I was basically just an extended visitor to New York City before the economy forced me to leave. She, on the other hand, is a real New Yorker, with her whole life and roots there. She'd been in her historical, cheap Manhattan apartment for over 10 years... When I had to leave, I came back to a town that I'd lived in since the 1980s, to a neighborhood that I'd known for the past decade. My immediate family lives within 2 miles of me. I may not LOOOOOVE Austin, but I like it, and I know the place... She, on the other hand, was forced to leave everything she knew for a random city across the country that she had no connection to other than the one kind-hearted friend who offered a place to stay. My sense of "loss" of NYC was mainly aesthetic and psychological (it represented beauty and excitement and wonder to me); her loss was a much more real one.
Well, HER story tops my Mini Tale of Woe, that's for sure...
She'd lived in NYC all her life. Born in the Bronx, moved to the East Village over 30 years ago. She and her 12-year-old daughter had lived in Stuy Town, a historic rent-controlled building that just about no one can get into any more. (When I worked in the Union Square area, I once spent a lunch hour walking to Stuy Town, since it had been in the news at the time after being sold to a major developer, and I wanted to check it out.)
About the same time I was having trouble finding work in NYC, she lost her longtime, relatively high-paying job (academic support staff). And then struggled along with temp work for a year or so... She ended up having to declare bankruptcy. And lost her prime apartment. And was going to end up on the street until a friend of hers in Austin said she and her daughter could come stay with her. She's been here for about 3 years. At one point had a full-time job at UT but was just laid off several months ago and is again temping. She now lives in a generic, cheap mega-complex way south. No little neighborhood shops and restaurants. No place to walk...
Her story puts my bitchin' and moanin' about my "loss" to shame. I was basically just an extended visitor to New York City before the economy forced me to leave. She, on the other hand, is a real New Yorker, with her whole life and roots there. She'd been in her historical, cheap Manhattan apartment for over 10 years... When I had to leave, I came back to a town that I'd lived in since the 1980s, to a neighborhood that I'd known for the past decade. My immediate family lives within 2 miles of me. I may not LOOOOOVE Austin, but I like it, and I know the place... She, on the other hand, was forced to leave everything she knew for a random city across the country that she had no connection to other than the one kind-hearted friend who offered a place to stay. My sense of "loss" of NYC was mainly aesthetic and psychological (it represented beauty and excitement and wonder to me); her loss was a much more real one.
Monday, December 12, 2011
Smoke Gets In Your Eyes
Originally written in 1933 by Kern/Harbach for an "operetta" called "Roberta," and first appeared in the '35 film based on the same, with Irene Dunne singing it.
I like this Platters version best (1958).
Even more than the Bryan Ferry version from '74. Though I'm guessing that Ferry's version is probably closest in sentiment to the original, which then had to be cleaned up for the film, etc. etc. And the Ferry version plus any Roxy Music was my soundtrack of the summer of '91, a miserable summer, which Ferry captured completely in all of its awful hurt and masochism combined with a life-affirming desire for some, ANY, sort of beauty and order. Aw, hell. I really do like the Ferry version the best.
I like this Platters version best (1958).
Even more than the Bryan Ferry version from '74. Though I'm guessing that Ferry's version is probably closest in sentiment to the original, which then had to be cleaned up for the film, etc. etc. And the Ferry version plus any Roxy Music was my soundtrack of the summer of '91, a miserable summer, which Ferry captured completely in all of its awful hurt and masochism combined with a life-affirming desire for some, ANY, sort of beauty and order. Aw, hell. I really do like the Ferry version the best.
Sunday, December 11, 2011
You know you're really old when...
...you go Christmas shopping at Marshall's and, after the scented candles, the next thing that catches your (bleary) eye is... discount READING GLASSES! And the knowledge that you can also get discount reading SUNGLASSES! Wooooooo!
Jesus.
Well, I am excited about the candles. My place has smelled of smoke for the past 2 months, since I've been unable to afford any candles. It's only one room, and now that it's cold out, I only crack one window at night, when I do most of my smoking. When I leave during the day, I open both windows to air the place out, but it still stinks!
Once I got a new paycheck, the first thing I thought of after getting Christmas presents and a haircut was: CANDLES --- Pine-tree, peppermint, and cinnamon. I want CHRISTMAS SMELLS around me, dammit! And now I have them, at last.
As for the reading glasses: I'm actually pretty happy about finding those. On sale, 3 for $9.99. Up 'til now, I'd had one "good" (aka "semi-stylish") pair that I bought last spring and have been hauling along to job assignments, and then the one horribly ugly pair (given to me from my mom's '80s-90s collection) that I used at home. Now I have a whole boatload to disperse around the one room and the bags I carry to temp assignments, etc. Did I say "Woooooooo" earlier? ;p
Jesus.
Well, I am excited about the candles. My place has smelled of smoke for the past 2 months, since I've been unable to afford any candles. It's only one room, and now that it's cold out, I only crack one window at night, when I do most of my smoking. When I leave during the day, I open both windows to air the place out, but it still stinks!
Once I got a new paycheck, the first thing I thought of after getting Christmas presents and a haircut was: CANDLES --- Pine-tree, peppermint, and cinnamon. I want CHRISTMAS SMELLS around me, dammit! And now I have them, at last.
As for the reading glasses: I'm actually pretty happy about finding those. On sale, 3 for $9.99. Up 'til now, I'd had one "good" (aka "semi-stylish") pair that I bought last spring and have been hauling along to job assignments, and then the one horribly ugly pair (given to me from my mom's '80s-90s collection) that I used at home. Now I have a whole boatload to disperse around the one room and the bags I carry to temp assignments, etc. Did I say "Woooooooo" earlier? ;p
Wednesday, December 07, 2011
In Memory (10/9/40 - 12/8/80)
BELOW: A poem for myself, pre-Lennon's death.
RINGS
once I walked in clear blue sky
waiting for the bus
my cheek against the ice-cold pane
Mama didn't work
she watched me at the stop
tearing the curls
she spent all morning fixing
who liked my dress?
all the boys, Mama
they give me their nickels
their jackets to wear
Raymond, Danny, Sylvester
we fly kites together
they walk me home
giving me rings
to wear forever
Monday, December 05, 2011
Makin' Friends
Working at a temp proctor job today, my supervisor asked me to proofread a long list of names and corresponding ID numbers.
I enthusiastically replied, "I love this kind of stuff. Aside from temp work, I'm actually a proofreader!"
She said, "I'm sorry. I really don't have time right now to learn more about you."
How bizarre! :0
I enthusiastically replied, "I love this kind of stuff. Aside from temp work, I'm actually a proofreader!"
She said, "I'm sorry. I really don't have time right now to learn more about you."
How bizarre! :0
Sunday, December 04, 2011
Dumb Blonde (Dolly Parton, 1967)
Don't try to cry your way out of this
Don't try to lie or I'll catch you in it
Don't try to make me feel sorry for you
Just because I'm blonde
Don't think I'm dumb
Cause this dumb blonde ain't nobody's fool
When you left you thought I'd sit
And you thought I'd wait
And you thought I'd cry
You called me a dumb blonde
Ah, but somehow I lived through it
And you know if there's one thing this blonde has learned
Blondes have more fun
You flew too high up off the ground
Hit stormy weather and had to come back down
But I've found new thread for my old spool
Just because I'm blonde
Don't think I'm dumb
Cause this dumb blonde ain't nobody's fool
Saturday, December 03, 2011
The poison just didn't take...
Here is what I failed to add to this post and picture of a couple of days ago. For the Daisy pup.
"So I say Live
and turn my shadow three times around
to feed our puppies as they come,
the eight Dalmatians we didn't drown,
despite the warnings: The abort! The destroy!
Despite the pails of water that waited
to drown them, to pull them down like stones,
they came, each one headfirst,
blowing bubbles the color of cataract-blue
and fumbling for the tiny tits.
Just last week, eight Dalmatians,
3/4 of a lb., lined up like cord wood
each
like a
birch tree.
I promise to love more if they come,
because in spite of cruelty
and the stuffed railroad cars for the ovens,
I am not what I expected. Not an Eichmann.
The poison just didn't take.
So I won't hang around in my hospital shift,
repeating The Black Mass and all of it.
I say Live, Live because of the sun,
the dream, the excitable gift."
The Merriest
God, it's mean to pay me $27 an hour for three weeks! The old spoiling comes back: "I once earned that much regularly, so why shouldn't I now -- ALL the time!" :)
What this brief $27 an hour means to me, though, is... CHRISTMAS!!! A week ago at Thanksgiving, I was apologizing in advance to family members for the presents that I wouldn't be getting them for Christmas since I was completely out of money... And I was utterly depressed at not being able to participate in Christmas shopping... That has been a lot of the fun of the season for me over the years --- the thinking about what to get people, and then being out in the stores amidst the piped-in Christmas music and festivity!
And this $27-an-hour gig --- pays EVERY WEEK, Baby! :) No waiting for months. Just got my first installment Friday... HO-HO-HO! (And new haircut to come next Friday for the first time in three months!)
Merry Christmas!
I'd like to fix this bag of tricks
and hand it out with a fleeting greeting:
Smiles for the frowners
Salutes to the uppers
Boosts for the downers
May the day be the bowl of cherriest
And to all, the Merriest!
Hope you swing during the season
Hope your days go great
Hope you find plenty of reasons all year long to celebrate
Sun for the mopers
A laugh for the criers
Luck for the hopers
To the strange and the ordinariest
Me to you, the Merriest!
Thoughts for the musers
A cheer for the winners
Breaks for the losers
To the Beats and the debonariest
Greetings like the Merriest!
Hope there's oil under your rosevine
Hope you get that raise
Hope you hope everything goes fine
the next 300 and some odd days
Friends for the loners
A song for the singers
Grins for the groaners
make the day the nothing can compariest
have the most, the merriest!
What this brief $27 an hour means to me, though, is... CHRISTMAS!!! A week ago at Thanksgiving, I was apologizing in advance to family members for the presents that I wouldn't be getting them for Christmas since I was completely out of money... And I was utterly depressed at not being able to participate in Christmas shopping... That has been a lot of the fun of the season for me over the years --- the thinking about what to get people, and then being out in the stores amidst the piped-in Christmas music and festivity!
And this $27-an-hour gig --- pays EVERY WEEK, Baby! :) No waiting for months. Just got my first installment Friday... HO-HO-HO! (And new haircut to come next Friday for the first time in three months!)
Merry Christmas!
I'd like to fix this bag of tricks
and hand it out with a fleeting greeting:
Smiles for the frowners
Salutes to the uppers
Boosts for the downers
May the day be the bowl of cherriest
And to all, the Merriest!
Hope you swing during the season
Hope your days go great
Hope you find plenty of reasons all year long to celebrate
Sun for the mopers
A laugh for the criers
Luck for the hopers
To the strange and the ordinariest
Me to you, the Merriest!
Thoughts for the musers
A cheer for the winners
Breaks for the losers
To the Beats and the debonariest
Greetings like the Merriest!
Hope there's oil under your rosevine
Hope you get that raise
Hope you hope everything goes fine
the next 300 and some odd days
Friends for the loners
A song for the singers
Grins for the groaners
make the day the nothing can compariest
have the most, the merriest!
Alma Mater
One thing that I'm appreciating about being back in Austin and doing temp work on the campus of my alma mater, UT, is the chance to rediscover the place. I got my BA in English there in 1993, which took me longer than 4 years! I kept dropping out to work full-time because I was sick of being broke, then going back, then dropping out again. Finally, after all of my friends had graduated, it dawned on me that if I didn't just buckle down and get the damn degree, I was going to wind up working at K-Mart or someplace! (Funny, I'm making K-Mart wages nowadays anyway! Oh well.)
After getting the BA, I immediately went off to grad school in San Fran. After graduating there in '95, I came back home, and couldn't find any other job at the time than supervising at the UT library where I used to work... Ugh. I was sick of the low-paying library, of the campus. When a publishing company hired me full-time in 2000, I never wanted to see the campus again. And I basically didn't. From 2000 to 2010, I didn't step foot there.
Why? When I first went to UT in the mid-'80s, it was a haven for frat boys and sorority girls. All rah-rah loud and running in packs and conformist and hateful-seeming... I didn't intellectually like what they stood for, but they also just scared me. I'll never forget the time I stood on the Drag watching a parade of UT floats... I wasn't out of the closet yet, but when I saw the float for the gay students go by, I got goosebumps and felt proud of them and happy... Until a frat boy next to me yelled out, "Fucking faggots!" Similarly, during this time, there was an AIDS quilt displayed in the entry of my library, with a guestbook where anyone could leave a message. I saw too many "Die, fag" messages there to count.
It wasn't just the anti-gay stuff, it was the whole atmosphere: I was depressed by the huge, impersonal classes that had to be taken. I was depressed by teaching assistants offering me "A"s in a class in exchange for "coffee." (Happened twice.) Depressed by the "friends" I had then who only wanted to go out to 6th Street frat bars and/or generic country dance places, when I was dying to explore the punk and live music scene. Depressed because all the library people that I worked with seemed like big losers who had given up on life in favor of being shabby and pseudo-hip. Depressed because I didn't like the boys who liked me. Or the older men that I had to keep "double-dating" if I wanted to go out because my closest "friend" was always sleeping with some guy in his 50s and he always had a buddy... (I never slept with any of the "buddies." I usually ended up in a living room of a cheap borrowed apartment, making polite conversation with the friend, while the other two fucked loudly in the bedroom. My most unpleasant memory was of being drunk and throwing up in a restaurant bathroom one evening; when I came out, still reeking of vomit, I'm sure, the "buddy" was so desperate to make out with a college girl that the fact that I'd just thrown up didn't deter him at all... he insisted on kissing. Yum!)
It was just all a big downer. I couldn't wait to get the hell away from that. And for 10 years, I did.
When I moved back to Austin from NY in 2010 and was faced with the prospect of working around the campus again, I was psychologically horrified.
But... After my one-month gig there this past summer, the angst dissipated. There weren't right-wing frat daddies marching around, just a lot of kids with messy hair in T-shirts wandering around talking on their cell phones. They all looked incredibly young and un-put-together and non-scary. And the campus was nice. I liked my lunch hours people-watching under the mighty oaks. (The massive trees, I had not appreciated before at all! It wasn't until moving to NY and seeing different pretty trees and loving those that I opened my eyes to how interesting the prevalent historically big oaks in Austin were!)
This past week, I had another temp gig on campus, this time for just one day, being a test proctor for 3 accounting classes. I passed out the tests, walked up and down the aisles during the testing to scare kids off of cheating, then checked their IDs at the end when they turned in their tests. I used to feel paranoid and claustrophobic when I myself attended big classes like these. And I remember even being afraid of the proctors back then, assuming that they were all Ph.D candidates or something, there to sniff out anyone even THINKING of falsity (either intellectually or on the basic peering-at-the-neighbor's-test level)! :) It was funny! All of these messy-looking babies with their backpacks, some forgetting-their-pencils-and-calculators; the whiz kids turning their tests in first, then the masses flooding up, then the stragglers at the end... The complete lack of attitude, just the concentration on the test, the occasional unnecessary -- but cute -- charm thrown at the proctors! :)
Are kids different today, or was I just completely paranoid back then?! Most likely the latter! :) Working this test, like working the UT football games for the past couple of months, has been psychologically healing.
After getting the BA, I immediately went off to grad school in San Fran. After graduating there in '95, I came back home, and couldn't find any other job at the time than supervising at the UT library where I used to work... Ugh. I was sick of the low-paying library, of the campus. When a publishing company hired me full-time in 2000, I never wanted to see the campus again. And I basically didn't. From 2000 to 2010, I didn't step foot there.
Why? When I first went to UT in the mid-'80s, it was a haven for frat boys and sorority girls. All rah-rah loud and running in packs and conformist and hateful-seeming... I didn't intellectually like what they stood for, but they also just scared me. I'll never forget the time I stood on the Drag watching a parade of UT floats... I wasn't out of the closet yet, but when I saw the float for the gay students go by, I got goosebumps and felt proud of them and happy... Until a frat boy next to me yelled out, "Fucking faggots!" Similarly, during this time, there was an AIDS quilt displayed in the entry of my library, with a guestbook where anyone could leave a message. I saw too many "Die, fag" messages there to count.
It wasn't just the anti-gay stuff, it was the whole atmosphere: I was depressed by the huge, impersonal classes that had to be taken. I was depressed by teaching assistants offering me "A"s in a class in exchange for "coffee." (Happened twice.) Depressed by the "friends" I had then who only wanted to go out to 6th Street frat bars and/or generic country dance places, when I was dying to explore the punk and live music scene. Depressed because all the library people that I worked with seemed like big losers who had given up on life in favor of being shabby and pseudo-hip. Depressed because I didn't like the boys who liked me. Or the older men that I had to keep "double-dating" if I wanted to go out because my closest "friend" was always sleeping with some guy in his 50s and he always had a buddy... (I never slept with any of the "buddies." I usually ended up in a living room of a cheap borrowed apartment, making polite conversation with the friend, while the other two fucked loudly in the bedroom. My most unpleasant memory was of being drunk and throwing up in a restaurant bathroom one evening; when I came out, still reeking of vomit, I'm sure, the "buddy" was so desperate to make out with a college girl that the fact that I'd just thrown up didn't deter him at all... he insisted on kissing. Yum!)
It was just all a big downer. I couldn't wait to get the hell away from that. And for 10 years, I did.
When I moved back to Austin from NY in 2010 and was faced with the prospect of working around the campus again, I was psychologically horrified.
But... After my one-month gig there this past summer, the angst dissipated. There weren't right-wing frat daddies marching around, just a lot of kids with messy hair in T-shirts wandering around talking on their cell phones. They all looked incredibly young and un-put-together and non-scary. And the campus was nice. I liked my lunch hours people-watching under the mighty oaks. (The massive trees, I had not appreciated before at all! It wasn't until moving to NY and seeing different pretty trees and loving those that I opened my eyes to how interesting the prevalent historically big oaks in Austin were!)
This past week, I had another temp gig on campus, this time for just one day, being a test proctor for 3 accounting classes. I passed out the tests, walked up and down the aisles during the testing to scare kids off of cheating, then checked their IDs at the end when they turned in their tests. I used to feel paranoid and claustrophobic when I myself attended big classes like these. And I remember even being afraid of the proctors back then, assuming that they were all Ph.D candidates or something, there to sniff out anyone even THINKING of falsity (either intellectually or on the basic peering-at-the-neighbor's-test level)! :) It was funny! All of these messy-looking babies with their backpacks, some forgetting-their-pencils-and-calculators; the whiz kids turning their tests in first, then the masses flooding up, then the stragglers at the end... The complete lack of attitude, just the concentration on the test, the occasional unnecessary -- but cute -- charm thrown at the proctors! :)
Are kids different today, or was I just completely paranoid back then?! Most likely the latter! :) Working this test, like working the UT football games for the past couple of months, has been psychologically healing.
Wednesday, November 30, 2011
Free Will Astrology
While I usually like Brezsny's weekly "Free Will Astrology" column (intricate and psychologically helpful, published in many alternative weekly papers like the Austin Chronicle), I tend to dislike Brezsny's Facebook page, which is much more "lowest-common-denominator" and PC. A recent post of his on Facebook:
Rob Brezsny's Free Will Astrology
"5 techniques to increase happiness: 1. Keep a daily gratitude journal, listing items for which you feel grateful. 2. Perform a meditation in which you reflect on something that made you happy. 3. Make a habit of sharing the highlights of your day with someone close to you. 4. Practice forgiveness routinely. 5. Construct a list of experiences that relax and rejuvenate you."
To which I responded:
In actuality, the above activities don't work at all, just act as stand-ins while you're waiting for something real. (Seriously, I tried the above for over 5 years: being grateful for found pennies, weeds blooming through cracks in pavement, et al. I sincerely appreciated these things intellectually, but they still rang extremely hollow, along the lines of enjoying a good TV show. Truth is, LOVE is necessary. And that usually comes in the form of a person, not a penny.)
Rob Brezsny's Free Will Astrology
"5 techniques to increase happiness: 1. Keep a daily gratitude journal, listing items for which you feel grateful. 2. Perform a meditation in which you reflect on something that made you happy. 3. Make a habit of sharing the highlights of your day with someone close to you. 4. Practice forgiveness routinely. 5. Construct a list of experiences that relax and rejuvenate you."
To which I responded:
In actuality, the above activities don't work at all, just act as stand-ins while you're waiting for something real. (Seriously, I tried the above for over 5 years: being grateful for found pennies, weeds blooming through cracks in pavement, et al. I sincerely appreciated these things intellectually, but they still rang extremely hollow, along the lines of enjoying a good TV show. Truth is, LOVE is necessary. And that usually comes in the form of a person, not a penny.)
Tuesday, November 29, 2011
"If you want to know the truth..."
"...as we flaunt our escapades,
swallow down our portion of whiskey and dex,
salvage the day with some soup or some sex,
juggle our teabags as we inch down the hall,
let the blood out of our fires with phenobarbital,
lick the headlines for Starkweathers and Specks..."
-------------------------
"...I have visions --- sometimes ritualized visions --- that come to me of God, or of Christ, or of the Saints, and I feel that I can touch them almost...that they are part of me. It's the same 'Everything that has been shall be again.' It's reincarnation, speaking with another voice...or else with the Devil. If you want to know the truth, the leaves talk to me every June."
--------------------------
Poor Kayo didn't know what the hell he was getting into! They were both 19 when they married. 19! Who is 19 when they commit to anything serious? And who knows at 19 that their wife is actually a seer and psychic... eventually earning a Pulitzer Prize to top it off, to assuage all your suspicions about her laziness --- but still not actually explaining her incredibly bizarre behavior at home!
Monday, November 28, 2011
Fight-Club Boy At Door
Last night after 5 hours of music blaring through the walls, I finally went over at 11:45pm to the neighbor's to tell him to PLEASE BE QUIET, PLEASE.
He came to the door in a towel, said sorry, quieted down after.
This evening, got a knock on my door. It was Fight-Club Boy. Drunk to the gills, slurping from a hard-lemonade tall-boy that he spilled all over the place, with another in a plastic bag. Wearing an embroidered apron.
He was sorry for last night. He couldn't tell when he was loud or not. He could tell from talking to me now that I wasn't a cunt, though he thought I was a cunt last night.
I told him I appreciated his coming over to talk. I was sorry for being rude by coming to his door last night. By the way, what was that "Fight Club" shit going on at his apartment last month? The "friend" sounded like a psycho.
He said his "friend" was a faggot. When I told him I was gay: "Oh, you're gay? I'm sorry. I didn't mean it like that."
I said his "friend" didn't sound like a "faggot" but rather like a straight guy trying to drum up his butchness, and that his inciting my neighbor to fight was disturbing and weird, and that I'd felt like sliding a note under his door telling him to avoid that guy!
My neighbor thanked me for caring. He drunkly hugged me, twice. Then, listening to the sounds of my TV beyond my doorway, said he heard his own voice coming from my TV. When I said I hoped not, since I'd been watching "The Real Housewives of Atlanta" and which Atlanta housewife he might be, he acted a bit embarrassed.
Folks, if I'm murdered in the next few weeks or months, it was this neighbor!
Murder aside: You know what's good about having a man around? The above kind of thing filtered out. By this time, I've seen enough of it. I can handle it. But... I'm tired of "handling it." I think perhaps straight men can handle "faggot" and "cunt" and drunken hugs from strangers and spilled drinks on the doorstep...
But I personally, sans man, am tired of having to psyche myself up to all of it. At 46, I shouldn't even be around this type of thing any more. (If I'd had protectors, I wouldn't even have had to have been around this at 26.)
He came to the door in a towel, said sorry, quieted down after.
This evening, got a knock on my door. It was Fight-Club Boy. Drunk to the gills, slurping from a hard-lemonade tall-boy that he spilled all over the place, with another in a plastic bag. Wearing an embroidered apron.
He was sorry for last night. He couldn't tell when he was loud or not. He could tell from talking to me now that I wasn't a cunt, though he thought I was a cunt last night.
I told him I appreciated his coming over to talk. I was sorry for being rude by coming to his door last night. By the way, what was that "Fight Club" shit going on at his apartment last month? The "friend" sounded like a psycho.
He said his "friend" was a faggot. When I told him I was gay: "Oh, you're gay? I'm sorry. I didn't mean it like that."
I said his "friend" didn't sound like a "faggot" but rather like a straight guy trying to drum up his butchness, and that his inciting my neighbor to fight was disturbing and weird, and that I'd felt like sliding a note under his door telling him to avoid that guy!
My neighbor thanked me for caring. He drunkly hugged me, twice. Then, listening to the sounds of my TV beyond my doorway, said he heard his own voice coming from my TV. When I said I hoped not, since I'd been watching "The Real Housewives of Atlanta" and which Atlanta housewife he might be, he acted a bit embarrassed.
Folks, if I'm murdered in the next few weeks or months, it was this neighbor!
Murder aside: You know what's good about having a man around? The above kind of thing filtered out. By this time, I've seen enough of it. I can handle it. But... I'm tired of "handling it." I think perhaps straight men can handle "faggot" and "cunt" and drunken hugs from strangers and spilled drinks on the doorstep...
But I personally, sans man, am tired of having to psyche myself up to all of it. At 46, I shouldn't even be around this type of thing any more. (If I'd had protectors, I wouldn't even have had to have been around this at 26.)
Saturday, November 26, 2011
Good Used Heart
Two Hoots and a Holler, in 2011 (top) and 1991 (below) videos. I think of Rick Broussard circa 1991 as the soundtrack of my youth in Austin. In 2011, Rick is a bit less fucked up and pretty, as am I, but his music is still great. ("Good Used Heart" is an original song --- great lyrics!)
More Thanksgiving
One reason I really like being around my nephews is because they think in unusual ways. I guess most little kids are like this; I can't tell quite yet if they're going to grow up to be the same. I also like being around their overt affection and desire to share themselves with me!
The older nephew is 9. His mom has a nice smart phone, and he wanted to show me how it worked; we went to his favorite game sites and listened to the ring-tones. And then I made him look up "Joan Crawford"! :) (On the main page of the site, he recognized a photo of a '50s ad for "Peter Pan bras" that I happened to have framed in my apartment!) I also liked his sharing his "Calvin & Hobbes" book with me. And his understanding of the difference between the words "literal" and "figurative"! (RE whether an action figure of his actually had clothes on or not!) And then, during dinner, his promotion of the canned LeSueur Baby Peas that I like so and that everyone else mocks: He made a point of choosing the LeSueur peas over the fresh peas, and then we nodded about the right way to mix them with the mashed potatoes! :)
The younger nephew is 6. At one point in the evening, he pointed to his dad and said, "You have a long chin." I felt bad for my bro and so then pointed to my nephew (trying to give an example): "You have messy hair!" The nephew then pointed to me and said, "YOU have messy hair! And you have yellow teeth -- because you SMOKE!" Me: "Well... you have spaces between your teeth because they're baby teeth!" "I don't care! At least my teeth aren't yellow from SMOKING!" (All the grown-ups in the room laughed; he'd made his point!)
Later this nephew smushed my face against his. When I yelled "OUCH!" he said, "My friends don't mind when I do this." I asked him, "When you do this, do your friends SMILE [giving example of a nice smile] or do they GRIMACE?" "What's a "grimace"?" When I gave an example of a grimace, he admitted that sometimes they grimaced, rather than smiled, after being smushed! :)
He also showed me his school things: One, a picture that he'd drawn of his family, calling them "nice" and "cool" and "funny." And another from his teacher, saying how good he'd been that week. I admired them, and I felt happy that he wanted to show these to me. I also felt happy later in the evening when he was drowsing off during football and laid in my lap...
It was neat how comfortable the nephews felt with adults. I never felt like that as a kid. When I was growing up, our family hardly ever had adult friends over. There were my parents, and then there were teachers at school. And no actual human "interaction" between. I was taught to be "quiet" and "respectful," that's it. Though I had many thoughts of my own, I was almost always immediately shut down whenever I "dared" to express them, sometimes physically "shut down" -- even for something as mildly "radical" as "daring" to watch TV and write in my journal at the same time. (Got dragged down the hall by my hair for that one.)
Certainly not useful when I got older and needed to know how to actually talk to adults (and/or earn their mentorship)! Once I got to high school and college and needed to know how to present myself and interact intellectually, I had no clue. All I'd learned was: I couldn't reveal my true self to adults because adults would be mean and shut me down. I had no game. That background of mine was a real struggle in college, where I found out that thought was actually appreciated!
I envy my nephews and their ability to interact with a variety of people, including grown-up people. I'm proud of them. They have good parents who have let them be themselves.
The older nephew is 9. His mom has a nice smart phone, and he wanted to show me how it worked; we went to his favorite game sites and listened to the ring-tones. And then I made him look up "Joan Crawford"! :) (On the main page of the site, he recognized a photo of a '50s ad for "Peter Pan bras" that I happened to have framed in my apartment!) I also liked his sharing his "Calvin & Hobbes" book with me. And his understanding of the difference between the words "literal" and "figurative"! (RE whether an action figure of his actually had clothes on or not!) And then, during dinner, his promotion of the canned LeSueur Baby Peas that I like so and that everyone else mocks: He made a point of choosing the LeSueur peas over the fresh peas, and then we nodded about the right way to mix them with the mashed potatoes! :)
The younger nephew is 6. At one point in the evening, he pointed to his dad and said, "You have a long chin." I felt bad for my bro and so then pointed to my nephew (trying to give an example): "You have messy hair!" The nephew then pointed to me and said, "YOU have messy hair! And you have yellow teeth -- because you SMOKE!" Me: "Well... you have spaces between your teeth because they're baby teeth!" "I don't care! At least my teeth aren't yellow from SMOKING!" (All the grown-ups in the room laughed; he'd made his point!)
Later this nephew smushed my face against his. When I yelled "OUCH!" he said, "My friends don't mind when I do this." I asked him, "When you do this, do your friends SMILE [giving example of a nice smile] or do they GRIMACE?" "What's a "grimace"?" When I gave an example of a grimace, he admitted that sometimes they grimaced, rather than smiled, after being smushed! :)
He also showed me his school things: One, a picture that he'd drawn of his family, calling them "nice" and "cool" and "funny." And another from his teacher, saying how good he'd been that week. I admired them, and I felt happy that he wanted to show these to me. I also felt happy later in the evening when he was drowsing off during football and laid in my lap...
It was neat how comfortable the nephews felt with adults. I never felt like that as a kid. When I was growing up, our family hardly ever had adult friends over. There were my parents, and then there were teachers at school. And no actual human "interaction" between. I was taught to be "quiet" and "respectful," that's it. Though I had many thoughts of my own, I was almost always immediately shut down whenever I "dared" to express them, sometimes physically "shut down" -- even for something as mildly "radical" as "daring" to watch TV and write in my journal at the same time. (Got dragged down the hall by my hair for that one.)
Certainly not useful when I got older and needed to know how to actually talk to adults (and/or earn their mentorship)! Once I got to high school and college and needed to know how to present myself and interact intellectually, I had no clue. All I'd learned was: I couldn't reveal my true self to adults because adults would be mean and shut me down. I had no game. That background of mine was a real struggle in college, where I found out that thought was actually appreciated!
I envy my nephews and their ability to interact with a variety of people, including grown-up people. I'm proud of them. They have good parents who have let them be themselves.
Friday, November 25, 2011
Thanksgiving
Things just keep getting worse and worse for me in general, but on this Thanksgiving I did have a nice respite -- being around family members.
The whole dinner was pleasant, at my brother and sister-in-law's house, with her parents, my mom, the nephews, and me. Everyone's pretty low-key, none of the "drama" that commentators on television talk about happening on Thanksgiving.
We watched the Cowboys, ate, chatted. I watched my brother and the boys play tag football in the back yard (and thought it was mightily cute whenever the nephews looked over at me when they'd made a good play!).
Then we all played the card game "Apples to Apples": Everyone gets 7 cards with words/phrases and one person's the judge each time -- the judge overturns one card with a theme word like "Sharp" or "Glamorous" or "Wild." The rest of us pick a card from our hand that we think the judge will choose. First to five wins. I personally think my brother fucked up the game by picking "John Philip Sousa" as the winning definition for "Sharp" when I had put down "barbed wire" and one nephew had put down "diamond"... but that's just me! :) (His rationale: "To be a bandleader, you've got to have an acute, sharp sense of music!" -- everyone groaned. Just as we groaned when the judge for the word "Wild" picked "golf-ball-sized hail" over "rednecks" and "rock-n-roll"!) :)
Then my mom went home, my sister-in-law's parents went to sleep, the nephews drowsed on the couch; we three grown-ups left drank cheap wine and watched and cheered the Longhorns as they beat the Aggies in the last seconds of their very final game after 100-something years...
I felt like a normal person for the first time in months.
The whole dinner was pleasant, at my brother and sister-in-law's house, with her parents, my mom, the nephews, and me. Everyone's pretty low-key, none of the "drama" that commentators on television talk about happening on Thanksgiving.
We watched the Cowboys, ate, chatted. I watched my brother and the boys play tag football in the back yard (and thought it was mightily cute whenever the nephews looked over at me when they'd made a good play!).
Then we all played the card game "Apples to Apples": Everyone gets 7 cards with words/phrases and one person's the judge each time -- the judge overturns one card with a theme word like "Sharp" or "Glamorous" or "Wild." The rest of us pick a card from our hand that we think the judge will choose. First to five wins. I personally think my brother fucked up the game by picking "John Philip Sousa" as the winning definition for "Sharp" when I had put down "barbed wire" and one nephew had put down "diamond"... but that's just me! :) (His rationale: "To be a bandleader, you've got to have an acute, sharp sense of music!" -- everyone groaned. Just as we groaned when the judge for the word "Wild" picked "golf-ball-sized hail" over "rednecks" and "rock-n-roll"!) :)
Then my mom went home, my sister-in-law's parents went to sleep, the nephews drowsed on the couch; we three grown-ups left drank cheap wine and watched and cheered the Longhorns as they beat the Aggies in the last seconds of their very final game after 100-something years...
I felt like a normal person for the first time in months.
Wednesday, November 23, 2011
Blood on the Tracks (1975)
Tangled Up in Blue
Early one morning the sun was shining
I was laying in bed
Wond'ring if she'd changed at all
If her hair was still red
Her folks they said our lives together
Sure was gonna be rough
They never did like Mama's homemade dress
Papa's bankbook wasn't big enough
And I was standing on the side of the road
Rain falling on my shoes
Heading out for the East Coast
Lord knows I've paid some dues getting through
Tangled up in blue.
She was married when we first met
Soon to be divorced
I helped her out of a jam I guess
But I used a little too much force
We drove that car as far as we could
Abandoned it out West
Split it up on a dark sad night
Both agreeing it was best
She turned around to look at me
As I was walking away
I heard her say over my shoulder
"We'll meet again someday on the avenue"
Tangled up in blue.
I had a job in the Great North Woods
Working as a cook for a spell
But I never did like it all that much
And one day the ax just fell
So I drifted down to New Orleans
Where I happened to be employed
Working for a while on a fishing boat
Right outside of Delacroix
But all the while I was alone
The past was close behind
I seen a lot of women
But she never escaped my mind and I just grew
Tangled up in blue.
She was working in a topless place
And I stopped in for a beer
I just kept looking at the side of her face
In the spotlight so clear
And later on as the crowd thinned out
I's just about to do the same
She was standing there in back of my chair
Said to me "Zimmy, don't I know your name?"
I muttered something underneath my breath
She studied the lines on my face
I must admit I felt a little uneasy
When she bent down to tie the laces of my shoe
Tangled up in blue.
She lit a burner on the stove and offered me a pipe
"I thought you'd never say hello" she said
"You look like the silent type"
Then she opened up a book of poems
And handed it to me
Written by an Italian poet
From the thirteenth century
And every one of them words rang true
And glowed like burning coal
Pouring off of every page
Like it was written in my soul from me to you
Tangled up in blue
I lived with them on Montague Street
In a basement down the stairs
There was music in the cafes at night
And revolution in the air
Then he started into dealing with slaves
And something inside of him died
She had to sell everything she owned
And froze up inside
And when finally the bottom fell out
I became withdrawn
The only thing I knew how to do
Was to keep on keeping on like a bird that flew
Tangled up in blue.
So now I'm going back again
I got to get to her somehow
All the people we used to know
They're an illusion to me now
Some are mathematicians
Some are carpenter's wives
Don't know how it all got started
I don't what they're doing with their lives
But me I'm still on the road
Heading for another joint
We always did feel the same
We just saw it from a different point of view
Tangled up in blue.
----------------------------------------------------------------
You're Gonna Make Me Lonesome When You Go
I've seen love go by my door
It's never been this close before
Never been so easy or so slow
I've been shooting in the dark too long
When something's not right it's wrong
Yer gonna make me lonesome when you go.
Dragon clouds so high above
I've only known careless love
It's always hit me from below
This time around it's more correct
Right on target so direct
Yer gonna make me lonesome when you go.
Purple clover Queen Anne lace
Crimson hair across your face
You could make me cry if you don't know
Can't remember what I was thinking of
You might be spoiling me too much love
Yer gonna make me lonesome when you go.
Flowers on the hillside blooming crazy
Crickets talking back and forth in rhyme
Blue river running slow and lazy
I could stay with you forever
And never realize the time.
Situations have ended sad
Relationships have all been bad
Mine've been like Verlaine's and Rimbaud
But there's no way I can compare
All those scenes to this affair
Yer gonna make me lonesome when you go.
Yer gonna make me wonder what I'm doing
Staying far behind without you
Yer gonna make me wonder what I'm saying
Yer gonna make me give myself a good talking to.
I'll look for you in old Honolulu
San Francisco, Ashtabula
Yer gonna have to leave me now I know
But I'll see you in the sky above
In the tall grass in the ones I love
Yer gonna make me lonesome when you go.
Early one morning the sun was shining
I was laying in bed
Wond'ring if she'd changed at all
If her hair was still red
Her folks they said our lives together
Sure was gonna be rough
They never did like Mama's homemade dress
Papa's bankbook wasn't big enough
And I was standing on the side of the road
Rain falling on my shoes
Heading out for the East Coast
Lord knows I've paid some dues getting through
Tangled up in blue.
She was married when we first met
Soon to be divorced
I helped her out of a jam I guess
But I used a little too much force
We drove that car as far as we could
Abandoned it out West
Split it up on a dark sad night
Both agreeing it was best
She turned around to look at me
As I was walking away
I heard her say over my shoulder
"We'll meet again someday on the avenue"
Tangled up in blue.
I had a job in the Great North Woods
Working as a cook for a spell
But I never did like it all that much
And one day the ax just fell
So I drifted down to New Orleans
Where I happened to be employed
Working for a while on a fishing boat
Right outside of Delacroix
But all the while I was alone
The past was close behind
I seen a lot of women
But she never escaped my mind and I just grew
Tangled up in blue.
She was working in a topless place
And I stopped in for a beer
I just kept looking at the side of her face
In the spotlight so clear
And later on as the crowd thinned out
I's just about to do the same
She was standing there in back of my chair
Said to me "Zimmy, don't I know your name?"
I muttered something underneath my breath
She studied the lines on my face
I must admit I felt a little uneasy
When she bent down to tie the laces of my shoe
Tangled up in blue.
She lit a burner on the stove and offered me a pipe
"I thought you'd never say hello" she said
"You look like the silent type"
Then she opened up a book of poems
And handed it to me
Written by an Italian poet
From the thirteenth century
And every one of them words rang true
And glowed like burning coal
Pouring off of every page
Like it was written in my soul from me to you
Tangled up in blue
I lived with them on Montague Street
In a basement down the stairs
There was music in the cafes at night
And revolution in the air
Then he started into dealing with slaves
And something inside of him died
She had to sell everything she owned
And froze up inside
And when finally the bottom fell out
I became withdrawn
The only thing I knew how to do
Was to keep on keeping on like a bird that flew
Tangled up in blue.
So now I'm going back again
I got to get to her somehow
All the people we used to know
They're an illusion to me now
Some are mathematicians
Some are carpenter's wives
Don't know how it all got started
I don't what they're doing with their lives
But me I'm still on the road
Heading for another joint
We always did feel the same
We just saw it from a different point of view
Tangled up in blue.
----------------------------------------------------------------
You're Gonna Make Me Lonesome When You Go
I've seen love go by my door
It's never been this close before
Never been so easy or so slow
I've been shooting in the dark too long
When something's not right it's wrong
Yer gonna make me lonesome when you go.
Dragon clouds so high above
I've only known careless love
It's always hit me from below
This time around it's more correct
Right on target so direct
Yer gonna make me lonesome when you go.
Purple clover Queen Anne lace
Crimson hair across your face
You could make me cry if you don't know
Can't remember what I was thinking of
You might be spoiling me too much love
Yer gonna make me lonesome when you go.
Flowers on the hillside blooming crazy
Crickets talking back and forth in rhyme
Blue river running slow and lazy
I could stay with you forever
And never realize the time.
Situations have ended sad
Relationships have all been bad
Mine've been like Verlaine's and Rimbaud
But there's no way I can compare
All those scenes to this affair
Yer gonna make me lonesome when you go.
Yer gonna make me wonder what I'm doing
Staying far behind without you
Yer gonna make me wonder what I'm saying
Yer gonna make me give myself a good talking to.
I'll look for you in old Honolulu
San Francisco, Ashtabula
Yer gonna have to leave me now I know
But I'll see you in the sky above
In the tall grass in the ones I love
Yer gonna make me lonesome when you go.
US kids: Are you an Important Person?
Just watched an interview on PBS with David Brooks, a conservative columnist for the New York Times. One interesting thing that he mentioned was a survey taken both recently and 50 years ago.
50 years ago, when high-school students were asked, "Are you an important person?" only 12% said "Yes."
Today, over 80% say "Yes."
Brooks's point was the decline of both humbleness and a sense of reality. I agree.
50 years ago, when high-school students were asked, "Are you an important person?" only 12% said "Yes."
Today, over 80% say "Yes."
Brooks's point was the decline of both humbleness and a sense of reality. I agree.
Tuesday, November 22, 2011
Ron Paul
At the Republican debate tonight on CNN, Republican/Libertarian Ron Paul made a few salient points:
1) RE the infamous US "War on Drugs": "Prescription drugs kill more people than illegal drugs." Which is completely true. Not to mention how many people alcohol kills, both physically over time and because of momentary outbursts.
2) RE the US imposing a "no-fly zone" over other countries: "We wouldn't like it if China put a no-fly zone over us. We need to mind our own business." Which is completely true.
3) RE the Taliban attacking us: "The Taliban only attacks us because they want us out of their countries. Just like we'd want THEM out of OUR country." Which is completely true.
One thing about Paul I must know before I support him: his opinion on outsourcing --- American corporations sending their jobs to countries with especially cheap labor markets, like India, for example. Given his Libertarian principles, I don't know that Paul would support American corporations being punished for shipping out jobs to non-Americans to save a buck.
But as an American who has been constantly employed for the past 30 years since aged 16 --- up until the last 3 years, after which I became a scruffy freelancer against my will, purely as a result of various publishers outsourcing... I want a candidate who demands that the American companies COME HOME AND EMPLOY AMERICANS.
Naif that I am, I just e-mailed Paul's website, asking for his position on outsourcing.
1) RE the infamous US "War on Drugs": "Prescription drugs kill more people than illegal drugs." Which is completely true. Not to mention how many people alcohol kills, both physically over time and because of momentary outbursts.
2) RE the US imposing a "no-fly zone" over other countries: "We wouldn't like it if China put a no-fly zone over us. We need to mind our own business." Which is completely true.
3) RE the Taliban attacking us: "The Taliban only attacks us because they want us out of their countries. Just like we'd want THEM out of OUR country." Which is completely true.
One thing about Paul I must know before I support him: his opinion on outsourcing --- American corporations sending their jobs to countries with especially cheap labor markets, like India, for example. Given his Libertarian principles, I don't know that Paul would support American corporations being punished for shipping out jobs to non-Americans to save a buck.
But as an American who has been constantly employed for the past 30 years since aged 16 --- up until the last 3 years, after which I became a scruffy freelancer against my will, purely as a result of various publishers outsourcing... I want a candidate who demands that the American companies COME HOME AND EMPLOY AMERICANS.
Naif that I am, I just e-mailed Paul's website, asking for his position on outsourcing.
Monday, November 21, 2011
To SS: Art Jobs
On Craig's List for your town, check out these listings (in the Art/Media jobs section):
11/2: Art Instructor. $20 hr. See also www.pinotspalette.com
11/8: Art Instructors Needed. See also www.paintingwithatwist.com
11/21: Part-time Art Teacher. $10 hr.
The first two sound especially interesting.
(Since our e-mail communications are sometimes... STYMIED... just wanted you to get the above info!) :)
11/2: Art Instructor. $20 hr. See also www.pinotspalette.com
11/8: Art Instructors Needed. See also www.paintingwithatwist.com
11/21: Part-time Art Teacher. $10 hr.
The first two sound especially interesting.
(Since our e-mail communications are sometimes... STYMIED... just wanted you to get the above info!) :)
Saturday, November 19, 2011
Stand and Deliver
1981. I was 15 -- my ultimate idea of "sexy" and "decadent"! But then, I'd hardly ever seen ANY video up until then. I think it still stands up 30 years later, both musically and video-wise. Wish, though, that Adam Ant had played it straight rather than "winking at the audience" the whole time. Scare 'em properly! :)
Thursday, November 17, 2011
Big in Brussels
Sometimes when I think I'm doing Joan Crawford a favor by perpetuating her image and reputation online, a picture like the above grounds me. From 1966. In Brussels. She was no longer a huge cinema queen. (Her last big hit had been in '62, with "What Ever Happened to Baby Jane," and that was still only an homage to her former glory.)
But Brussels, hardly a "small town," recognized her in the "off-year" of 1966 for what she by that time after 40 years had proven herself to be -- a perpetual star. Worthy of filling the city streets.
The Emperor's New Clothes
Whatever it may bring
I will live by my own policies
I will sleep with a clear conscience
I will sleep in peace...
-------------------------------------------------
It seems like years since you held the baby
While I wrecked the bedroom
You said it was dangerous after Sunday
And I knew you loved me
He thinks I just became famous
And that's what messed me up
But he's wrong
How could I possibly know what I want
When I was only twenty-one?
And there's millions of people
To offer advice and say how I should be
But they're twisted
And they will never be any influence on me
But you will always be
You will always be
If I treated you mean
I really didn't mean to
But you know how it is
And how a pregnancy can change you
I see plenty of clothes that I like
But I won't go anywhere nice for a while
All I want to do is just sit here
And write it all down and rest for a while
I can't bear to be in another city
One where you are not
I would return to nothing without you
If I'm your girlfriend or not
Maybe I was mean
But I really don't think so
You asked if I'm scared
And I said so
Everyone can see what's going on
They laugh `cause they know they're untouchable
Not because what I said was wrong
Whatever it may bring
I will live by my own policies
I will sleep with a clear conscience
I will sleep in peace
Maybe it sounds mean
But I really don't think so
You asked for the truth and I told you
Through their own words
They will be exposed
They've got a severe case of
The emperor's new clothes
The emperor's new clothes
The emperor's new clothes
I will live by my own policies
I will sleep with a clear conscience
I will sleep in peace...
-------------------------------------------------
It seems like years since you held the baby
While I wrecked the bedroom
You said it was dangerous after Sunday
And I knew you loved me
He thinks I just became famous
And that's what messed me up
But he's wrong
How could I possibly know what I want
When I was only twenty-one?
And there's millions of people
To offer advice and say how I should be
But they're twisted
And they will never be any influence on me
But you will always be
You will always be
If I treated you mean
I really didn't mean to
But you know how it is
And how a pregnancy can change you
I see plenty of clothes that I like
But I won't go anywhere nice for a while
All I want to do is just sit here
And write it all down and rest for a while
I can't bear to be in another city
One where you are not
I would return to nothing without you
If I'm your girlfriend or not
Maybe I was mean
But I really don't think so
You asked if I'm scared
And I said so
Everyone can see what's going on
They laugh `cause they know they're untouchable
Not because what I said was wrong
Whatever it may bring
I will live by my own policies
I will sleep with a clear conscience
I will sleep in peace
Maybe it sounds mean
But I really don't think so
You asked for the truth and I told you
Through their own words
They will be exposed
They've got a severe case of
The emperor's new clothes
The emperor's new clothes
The emperor's new clothes
Tuesday, November 15, 2011
Anne Sexton's Typewriter
I love this view, being able to see what she saw. And Austin's Harry Ransom Center has it! They also have over 200 of her UNpublished poems (!!), and archives of photos, letters, etc. PLUS her whole personal library! AND, if you request in advance, you can just go in there and TOUCH the stuff when they bring it to your table... I can't even imagine TOUCHING HER STUFF (and reading UNpublished poems)!
It's all been at the HRC for years, but I'd always vaguely thought it was restricted from the general public. Nope, it is not. I must make an appointment and go.
It's all been at the HRC for years, but I'd always vaguely thought it was restricted from the general public. Nope, it is not. I must make an appointment and go.
It's not as though I really need you
REM, 1984
Looking at your watch a third time waiting in the station for the bus
Going to a place that's far, so far away and if that's not enough
Going where nobody says hello, they don't talk to anybody they don't know
You'll wind up in some factory that's full time filth and nowhere left to go
Walk home to an empty house, sit around all by yourself
I know it might sound strange, but I believe
You'll be coming back before too long
(chorus)
Don't go back to Rockville, don't go back to Rockville, don't go back to Rockville
And waste another year
At night I drink myself to sleep and pretend
I don't care that you're not here with me
'Cause it's so much easier to handle
All my problems if I'm too far out to sea
But something better happen soon
Or it's gonna be too late to bring you back
(repeat chorus)
It's not as though I really need you
If you were here I'd only bleed you
But everybody else in town only wants to bring you down and
That's not how it ought to be
Well I know it might sound strange, but I believe
You'll be coming back before too long
Looking at your watch a third time waiting in the station for the bus
Going to a place that's far, so far away and if that's not enough
Going where nobody says hello, they don't talk to anybody they don't know
You'll wind up in some factory that's full time filth and nowhere left to go
Walk home to an empty house, sit around all by yourself
I know it might sound strange, but I believe
You'll be coming back before too long
(chorus)
Don't go back to Rockville, don't go back to Rockville, don't go back to Rockville
And waste another year
At night I drink myself to sleep and pretend
I don't care that you're not here with me
'Cause it's so much easier to handle
All my problems if I'm too far out to sea
But something better happen soon
Or it's gonna be too late to bring you back
(repeat chorus)
It's not as though I really need you
If you were here I'd only bleed you
But everybody else in town only wants to bring you down and
That's not how it ought to be
Well I know it might sound strange, but I believe
You'll be coming back before too long
Comfortably Numb
My sophomore year of college, I used to sit around the dorm room missing Ginny, listening to "The Wall" over and over and over, writing down the lyrics, thinking how profound it was in its depiction of sorrow and loss. I just now listened to this song again on YouTube for the first time in more than 10 years. Still think it's profound. (Though I can't imagine WALLOWING in the darkness today like I did back then; back then it was kind of "interesting" -- today, something to try to avoid!)
Hello?
Is there anybody in there?
Just nod if you can hear me.
Is there anyone at home?
Come on, now,
I hear you're feeling down.
Well I can ease your pain
And get you on your feet again.
Relax.
I need some information first.
Just the basic facts
Can you show me where it hurts?
There is no pain you are receding
A distant ship, smoke on the horizon.
You are only coming through in waves.
Your lips move but I can't hear what you're saying.
When I was a child I had a fever
My hands felt just like two balloons.
Now I've got that feeling once again
I can't explain you would not understand
This is not how I am.
I have become comfortably numb.
(solo)
I have become comfortably numb.
O.K.
Just a little pin prick.
There'll be no more AHHHHHHHHHHHHH!
But you may feel a little sick.
Can you stand up?
I do believe it's working. Good.
That'll keep you going through the show
Come on it's time to go.
There is no pain you are receding
A distant ship, smoke on the horizon.
You are only coming through in waves.
Your lips move but I can't hear what you're saying.
When I was a child
I caught a fleeting glimpse
Out of the corner of my eye
I turned to look but it was gone
I cannot put my finger on it now
The child is grown,
The dream is gone.
I have become comfortably numb.
Hello?
Is there anybody in there?
Just nod if you can hear me.
Is there anyone at home?
Come on, now,
I hear you're feeling down.
Well I can ease your pain
And get you on your feet again.
Relax.
I need some information first.
Just the basic facts
Can you show me where it hurts?
There is no pain you are receding
A distant ship, smoke on the horizon.
You are only coming through in waves.
Your lips move but I can't hear what you're saying.
When I was a child I had a fever
My hands felt just like two balloons.
Now I've got that feeling once again
I can't explain you would not understand
This is not how I am.
I have become comfortably numb.
(solo)
I have become comfortably numb.
O.K.
Just a little pin prick.
There'll be no more AHHHHHHHHHHHHH!
But you may feel a little sick.
Can you stand up?
I do believe it's working. Good.
That'll keep you going through the show
Come on it's time to go.
There is no pain you are receding
A distant ship, smoke on the horizon.
You are only coming through in waves.
Your lips move but I can't hear what you're saying.
When I was a child
I caught a fleeting glimpse
Out of the corner of my eye
I turned to look but it was gone
I cannot put my finger on it now
The child is grown,
The dream is gone.
I have become comfortably numb.
Monday, November 14, 2011
Two steps backward, a couple forward...
...so I end up pretty much in the same place! But at least not horribly bummed out.
The two backward things:
1) I had a job interview last week. Way on the other side of town. Duties: Writing blog posts for various legal firms. Hours: 8 to 5. (So I'd have to get up weekdays at 5:30am or so to catch 2 buses to get there on time, and wouldn't get home 'til 6:30 or 7pm.) Pay: $12 an hour. I wasn't excited about it. After taxes, I'd be bringing home about $1600 a month. That's a yearly salary of $19,200. That's what a high-school dropout can make working at a supermarket. Yet... Despite all of the above, I was still hoping to get the stupid job! (A stupid job being better than no job and getting evicted next month for no rent payment!) I did not get the job. I could not even get a crappy job that I didn't really want!
2) One of the many temp agencies I'm signed up with called me today with some news: A long-term temp job once scheduled to start today but then pushed up to November 28 had decided on who they wanted for the job; I was "3rd backup." (!) Meaning, if 3 of the ones they actually picked failed their drug tests, etc., THEN I'd be called to work. Pay: $10.55 an hour. And the temp person informed me that since I was on their list, I needed to come in to the office for paperwork, a drug test, etc. Now, I've already been into this particular agency's office TWICE already for various paperwork and office-related tests. This time, I just balked and told them NO. I said that if the company decided they wanted me, then I'd gladly come in to take all the tests that very day, but as 3rd BACKUP, I wasn't going to make yet another trip by bus to their office for nothing. Admittedly, not a real "can-do" spirit, but... Really. All the bullshit for a $10.55-an-hour job that I'm only a backup for? I still have a little dignity left! (I may not have an apartment left next month, but... I've got my pride, dadgummit!)
The above all reminded me of "The Bell Jar," when Elly is unable to focus on her thesis and so thinks of just quitting the whole honors English program at her Ivy League school and signing up at her mother's local college. Only to discover that the requirements for the local school were actually more strenuous than those for her elite school: "Now I saw that the stupidest person at my mother's college knew more than I did. I saw they wouldn't even let me in through the door, let alone give me a large scholarship like the one I had at my own college."
Same here: I condescendingly "stoop" to apply for low-paying jobs, but... they're even harder to qualify for than the high-paying ones that I've been working at for the past 13 years!
Luckily, some good things also happened today to counter the crap.
1) I got an outright offer to do some temp work from home for 2 weeks for $27 an hour!
2) Found a publishing company to freelance for that I hadn't known about and did well on their test. (THIS kind of test, I don't mind!)
3) Applied for a job in my old stomping grounds of Weehawken, and the HR person called me right back! (I had to explain why my resume was coming from Austin, and how I'm definitely looking to re-relocate!) This one's a long-shot, but still: It was nice to be contacted immediately and told how perfect my resume was for their job. And the pay's $30 an hour! And I can still smell and see Weehawken!)
The two backward things:
1) I had a job interview last week. Way on the other side of town. Duties: Writing blog posts for various legal firms. Hours: 8 to 5. (So I'd have to get up weekdays at 5:30am or so to catch 2 buses to get there on time, and wouldn't get home 'til 6:30 or 7pm.) Pay: $12 an hour. I wasn't excited about it. After taxes, I'd be bringing home about $1600 a month. That's a yearly salary of $19,200. That's what a high-school dropout can make working at a supermarket. Yet... Despite all of the above, I was still hoping to get the stupid job! (A stupid job being better than no job and getting evicted next month for no rent payment!) I did not get the job. I could not even get a crappy job that I didn't really want!
2) One of the many temp agencies I'm signed up with called me today with some news: A long-term temp job once scheduled to start today but then pushed up to November 28 had decided on who they wanted for the job; I was "3rd backup." (!) Meaning, if 3 of the ones they actually picked failed their drug tests, etc., THEN I'd be called to work. Pay: $10.55 an hour. And the temp person informed me that since I was on their list, I needed to come in to the office for paperwork, a drug test, etc. Now, I've already been into this particular agency's office TWICE already for various paperwork and office-related tests. This time, I just balked and told them NO. I said that if the company decided they wanted me, then I'd gladly come in to take all the tests that very day, but as 3rd BACKUP, I wasn't going to make yet another trip by bus to their office for nothing. Admittedly, not a real "can-do" spirit, but... Really. All the bullshit for a $10.55-an-hour job that I'm only a backup for? I still have a little dignity left! (I may not have an apartment left next month, but... I've got my pride, dadgummit!)
The above all reminded me of "The Bell Jar," when Elly is unable to focus on her thesis and so thinks of just quitting the whole honors English program at her Ivy League school and signing up at her mother's local college. Only to discover that the requirements for the local school were actually more strenuous than those for her elite school: "Now I saw that the stupidest person at my mother's college knew more than I did. I saw they wouldn't even let me in through the door, let alone give me a large scholarship like the one I had at my own college."
Same here: I condescendingly "stoop" to apply for low-paying jobs, but... they're even harder to qualify for than the high-paying ones that I've been working at for the past 13 years!
Luckily, some good things also happened today to counter the crap.
1) I got an outright offer to do some temp work from home for 2 weeks for $27 an hour!
2) Found a publishing company to freelance for that I hadn't known about and did well on their test. (THIS kind of test, I don't mind!)
3) Applied for a job in my old stomping grounds of Weehawken, and the HR person called me right back! (I had to explain why my resume was coming from Austin, and how I'm definitely looking to re-relocate!) This one's a long-shot, but still: It was nice to be contacted immediately and told how perfect my resume was for their job. And the pay's $30 an hour! And I can still smell and see Weehawken!)
Sunday, November 13, 2011
I'll Be There
Watched Michael Jackson's final 2009 "This Is It" performance tonight on VH1. At one point, he sang songs from his Jackson 5 years, including "I'll Be There."
The first video below (from 2002) especially breaks my heart. I'm sure Michael knew exactly what he had lost and could never regain. The second video is the original song from 1969.
You and I must make a pact, we must bring salvation back
Where there is love, I'll be there
I'll reach out my hand to you, I'll have faith in all you do
Just call my name and I'll be there
I'll be there to comfort you,
Build my world of dreams around you, I'm so glad that I found you
I'll be there with a love that's strong
I'll be your strength, I'll keep holding on
Let me fill your heart with joy and laughter
Togetherness, well that's all I'm after
Whenever you need me, I'll be there
I'll be there to protect you, with an unselfish love that respects you
Just call my name and I'll be there
If you should ever find someone new, I know he'd better be good to you
'Cause if he doesn't, I'll be there
Don't you know, baby, yeah yeah
I'll be there, I'll be there, just call my name, I'll be there
(Just look over your shoulders, honey - oo)
I'll be there, I'll be there, whenever you need me, I'll be there
Don't you know, baby, yeah yeah
I'll be there, I'll be there, just call my name, I'll be there...
The first video below (from 2002) especially breaks my heart. I'm sure Michael knew exactly what he had lost and could never regain. The second video is the original song from 1969.
You and I must make a pact, we must bring salvation back
Where there is love, I'll be there
I'll reach out my hand to you, I'll have faith in all you do
Just call my name and I'll be there
I'll be there to comfort you,
Build my world of dreams around you, I'm so glad that I found you
I'll be there with a love that's strong
I'll be your strength, I'll keep holding on
Let me fill your heart with joy and laughter
Togetherness, well that's all I'm after
Whenever you need me, I'll be there
I'll be there to protect you, with an unselfish love that respects you
Just call my name and I'll be there
If you should ever find someone new, I know he'd better be good to you
'Cause if he doesn't, I'll be there
Don't you know, baby, yeah yeah
I'll be there, I'll be there, just call my name, I'll be there
(Just look over your shoulders, honey - oo)
I'll be there, I'll be there, whenever you need me, I'll be there
Don't you know, baby, yeah yeah
I'll be there, I'll be there, just call my name, I'll be there...
Censor Yourself!
OK, late-night on the Internet after 6 or so beers, I myself often am incapable of mental and written self-censorship. That's another story. What I'm talking about right now is PHYSICAL self-censorship.
Part of it is just being fat. Like one woman at the UT mock jury last Thursday sitting next to me.
(1) She was so fat that she intruded on my personal space. Our jury chairs were close together, and her Self was touching me, which it shouldn't have been had she been a normal size.
(2) As the mock trial started, she started zipping and unzipping her bag, loudly rattling papers while the judge and lawyers were speaking. (Censor yourself!) I kept looking over at her, wondering what the hell she was so distractingly digging around for. Turned out, it was a Snickers candy bar, which she then proceeded to unwrap loudly and then scarf down loudly. Yes, we were all only in a "mock" trial situation, but can you please refrain from EATING (and so rattlingly loudly) during what is, despite its pseudo-ness, a quiet, serious enactment? (Censor yourself!)
(3) After the extremely annoying rattling candy-bar incident, I started studying this person more closely out of the corner of my eye: Her flats were olive green, her shirt turquoise, her eye-shadow lime green. That psychotic lack of color coordination is also not acceptable. (Censor yourself!)
In short: If you're big and fat, perhaps you should be self-conscious about that enough as it is... And maybe you especially shouldn't be so loud, scarfing down candy bars and rattling papers in a quiet public setting. And maybe you shouldn't wear lime-green eyeshadow in and of itself, much less try to match it up with turquoise and olive. (Censor yourself!)
I probably didn't look so hot at the mock trial myself, but at least I sat and watched quietly and politely in no-need-to-coordinate red-and-black, sans candy bars and rattling and rubbing up against others! Seriously. Censor your public self. Please.
Part of it is just being fat. Like one woman at the UT mock jury last Thursday sitting next to me.
(1) She was so fat that she intruded on my personal space. Our jury chairs were close together, and her Self was touching me, which it shouldn't have been had she been a normal size.
(2) As the mock trial started, she started zipping and unzipping her bag, loudly rattling papers while the judge and lawyers were speaking. (Censor yourself!) I kept looking over at her, wondering what the hell she was so distractingly digging around for. Turned out, it was a Snickers candy bar, which she then proceeded to unwrap loudly and then scarf down loudly. Yes, we were all only in a "mock" trial situation, but can you please refrain from EATING (and so rattlingly loudly) during what is, despite its pseudo-ness, a quiet, serious enactment? (Censor yourself!)
(3) After the extremely annoying rattling candy-bar incident, I started studying this person more closely out of the corner of my eye: Her flats were olive green, her shirt turquoise, her eye-shadow lime green. That psychotic lack of color coordination is also not acceptable. (Censor yourself!)
In short: If you're big and fat, perhaps you should be self-conscious about that enough as it is... And maybe you especially shouldn't be so loud, scarfing down candy bars and rattling papers in a quiet public setting. And maybe you shouldn't wear lime-green eyeshadow in and of itself, much less try to match it up with turquoise and olive. (Censor yourself!)
I probably didn't look so hot at the mock trial myself, but at least I sat and watched quietly and politely in no-need-to-coordinate red-and-black, sans candy bars and rattling and rubbing up against others! Seriously. Censor your public self. Please.
Friday, November 11, 2011
Louboutins!
At a UT mock trial Thursday that I got $10-an-hour for attending as a mock juror, I could not stop looking at the student defense attorney. She was insanely movie-star-looking: chiseled features, dark red hair, the proverbial "alabaster" skin, about a size 0...
Before I sat down in the mock court-room, I'd been hanging out in the hallway, where I'd seen her walk by and wondered, "Who in the world is THAT?" It looked like she was wearing a cocktail dress -- sleeveless, extremely form-fitting. By the time we were both in the mock courtroom and I realized she was going to be one of the lawyers I'd be critiquing, she'd put on a conservative jacket... and pearls... over the cocktail dress, but one thing remained the same...
The Louboutins, with those famous red soles! I'd only seen them on TV, but never in real life!
Oh my god!
Once she opened her mouth to present her case, a little of the lustre wore off: At first, she was a little mush-mouthed and didn't make a lot of eye contact with the jurors. She really seemed like a stereotypical 1950s Upper East Side society girl (who also looked like a model from a 1952 "Vogue" -- NOT "stereotypical" at all for 2011 in Austin, I suppose -- where does this girl come from?)! But after a bit, she kicked in and was actually arguing good points and making a few mildly sarcastic asides (which her opposing student attorney always called her on before the judge, and which the judge, at the end of the trial, admonished her about: "Juries don't like sarcasm." Oh, but I do!)
In the end, we jurors all voted unanimously in her favor. Because of the FACTS, of course! :)
When the judge sitting in (actually a real-life judge doing the law school a favor) asked us jurors for opinions on both the presentation of facts AND the personal style of the attorneys... I didn't want to knock her publicly, so kept quiet. But the truth is: I could not stop looking at her Louboutins the whole time. Maybe she should tone it down a bit for real-life juries in the future? Or maybe just continue to be a real visual treat and distraction, plebes be damned... What a dilemma for her career... :)
Beans!
I love pinto beans. (Not the canned kind, which always taste weirdly sweet and gooey and never hit the spot, but the home-made kind.) And for 46 years now have relied primarily on my mother to provide them for me. (Even today, every couple of months or so, she'll make a big batch and give me an old cottage-cheese container full of them to take home. Which I always finish off in about a day and a half.)
I once tried to make a bunch for myself, back in '96 I think it was, but they turned out crappy, mainly because I KNEW that they needed to be soaked overnight but I didn't FEEL LIKE soaking them overnight.
Last week, I saw a 1-lb bag of dry pinto beans in the supermarket for 75 cents and was suddenly inspired: What the hell; it's been 15 years; give 'em another shot...
This time, I SOAKED. For LONGER than 24 hours. And the next day I didn't try to boil them fast because I was hungry for them, but instead ate something first and THEN started the cooking... 2 hours of simmering for those things! It was like waiting for Thanksgiving dinner or something!
I didn't have any spices to add, except for salt and pepper. I don't think my mom ever adds any other spices, though she does always add raw BACON to simmer, which makes for great flavor but that I always have picked out when done to avoid the yucky fat-back-ness. (Plus I was just too lazy and cheap to buy a big thing of bacon just to add a couple of cut-up slices.)
At any rate, I soaked for 24 hours, I simmered for 2 hours, and at the end of it all, the beans that I made myself actually tasted GOOD, even without the bacon!
Only now: I have a lettuce-container full of ONE POUND OF BEANS to eat!
Thursday, November 10, 2011
Wednesday, November 09, 2011
Happy Birthday, Anne Sexton (November 9)
CIGARETTES AND WHISKEY AND WILD, WILD WOMEN
(after a song)*
Perhaps I was born kneeling,
born coughing on the long winter,
born expecting the kiss of mercy,
born with a passion for quickness
and yet, as things progressed,
I learned early about the stockade
or taken out, the fume of the enema.
By two or three I learned not to kneel,
not to expect, to plant my fires underground
where none but the dolls, perfect and awful,
could be whispered to or laid down to die.
Now that I have written many words,
and let out so many loves, for so many,
and been altogether what I always was --
a woman of excess, of zeal and greed,
I find the effort useless.
Do I not look in the mirror,
these days,
and see a drunken rat avert her eyes?
Do I not feel the hunger so acutely
that I would rather die than look
into its face?
I kneel once more,
in case mercy should come
in the nick of time.
-----------------------------------------------
*The song is "Cigareets, Whusky and Wild Wild Women" (1947 by Red Ingle)
Voting 2012
Ya feel like a mean, racist bum going against Barack Obama. The 2008 election drilled that into our collective head. (Full disclosure: I voted for McCain in 2008, the first time I'd ever voted Republican since I was first able to vote in 1984. Why Republican this year? One, I was pissed off about Hillary and how she got completely sideswiped. Two, McCain, though he ran a crappy campaign in 2008, I still remembered from 2000, when he challenged Bush's bullshit in the Republican primaries. I also liked McCain's Senate record of attempting sensible reforms: campaign and immigration, for instance. Obama, on the other hand, hadn't done a thing. He spoke well and was also historically black, but he was also all surface and no depth.)
For 2012: Obama remains a good speaker and a pleasant, thoughtful man. But he's as incompetent as George W. Bush was. No, he's worse:
Unemployment rate: (US Labor Dept.) October 2008 = 6.6%. October 2011 = 9.0%
National debt: (CBS News) 2008 = $10 trillion. 2011 = $14 trillion.
Wall Street bonuses: (Wall Street Journal, 2010) "Pay and benefits at the top 25 publicly traded banks and security firms on Wall Street hit a record of $135.5 billion" in 2010.
Also, Obama is reported (from the liberal "Washington Post") to have received more Wall Street contributions than any other Presidential candidates from both 2008 and 2012: "According to The Post’s latest revelation, bank employees, hedge fund magnates and others in the finance sector have contributed more to Obama and the Democrats than any of the campaigns of the GOP candidates. Largely to thank, says The Post, is a number of Democratic financiers who aided Obama in his 2008 bid to reclaim the White House from the Republicans that still give money to Obama and the DNC today.
Between both his own campaign and DNC contributions, the president has been responsible for raking in around $15.6 million in contributions from the financial and banking sector. By comparison, Texas Governor Rick Perry, still considered to be in the top-tier of GOP candidates, has pulled in only $2 million from the same pool."
Given the above, I'm puzzled about the "Wall Street Occupiers" occupying Wall Street and other city centers. Saying nothing about President Barack Obama's own extremely strong Wall Street connections. Not marching on Washington to protest both the President and the Congress. Calling Obama himself on his crap would be much less popular, huh?
On a personal note: My mother is a big Obama supporter. And I've been railing against him for the past few years based on his poor performance (and on my own unemployment for the first time in 30 years). But I just recently calmed down a bit and said to her, "I hope I'm fully employed by next year's election, because I want to make my decision rationally instead of just being pissed off because I'm unemployed."
But being long-term unemployed is, indeed, part of a "rational" decision. As are considering the National Debt and looking at the Wall Street bonuses being handed out during Obama's term, despite the earlier crash.
And Obama's foreign policy? The US "rationale" for invading Iraq was completely invented by Bush. I hated that, and I liked Obama while he was campaigning for saying the Iraq invasion was wrong. But... How has Obama's foreign policy been ANY different from Bush's? With Bush... a snake is a snake. The Snake pretty much said what he planned to do from the beginning. Disagree with it as you will, the Snake stated his intentions. Obama, on the other hand, acted reasonable while campaigning, then spent billions of US money targeting Libya, for instance. (What the fuck? Khaddafy hadn't been a threat to the US since Reagan put him out of commission in the '80s.)
In short, Obama, by his own actions, is a Wall Street hack and pseudo-Republican on foreign issues. Yet... he poses so much better than that...
Even if I have a nice job in the fall of 2012, I don't see how I can vote for him.
For 2012: Obama remains a good speaker and a pleasant, thoughtful man. But he's as incompetent as George W. Bush was. No, he's worse:
Unemployment rate: (US Labor Dept.) October 2008 = 6.6%. October 2011 = 9.0%
National debt: (CBS News) 2008 = $10 trillion. 2011 = $14 trillion.
Wall Street bonuses: (Wall Street Journal, 2010) "Pay and benefits at the top 25 publicly traded banks and security firms on Wall Street hit a record of $135.5 billion" in 2010.
Also, Obama is reported (from the liberal "Washington Post") to have received more Wall Street contributions than any other Presidential candidates from both 2008 and 2012: "According to The Post’s latest revelation, bank employees, hedge fund magnates and others in the finance sector have contributed more to Obama and the Democrats than any of the campaigns of the GOP candidates. Largely to thank, says The Post, is a number of Democratic financiers who aided Obama in his 2008 bid to reclaim the White House from the Republicans that still give money to Obama and the DNC today.
Between both his own campaign and DNC contributions, the president has been responsible for raking in around $15.6 million in contributions from the financial and banking sector. By comparison, Texas Governor Rick Perry, still considered to be in the top-tier of GOP candidates, has pulled in only $2 million from the same pool."
Given the above, I'm puzzled about the "Wall Street Occupiers" occupying Wall Street and other city centers. Saying nothing about President Barack Obama's own extremely strong Wall Street connections. Not marching on Washington to protest both the President and the Congress. Calling Obama himself on his crap would be much less popular, huh?
On a personal note: My mother is a big Obama supporter. And I've been railing against him for the past few years based on his poor performance (and on my own unemployment for the first time in 30 years). But I just recently calmed down a bit and said to her, "I hope I'm fully employed by next year's election, because I want to make my decision rationally instead of just being pissed off because I'm unemployed."
But being long-term unemployed is, indeed, part of a "rational" decision. As are considering the National Debt and looking at the Wall Street bonuses being handed out during Obama's term, despite the earlier crash.
And Obama's foreign policy? The US "rationale" for invading Iraq was completely invented by Bush. I hated that, and I liked Obama while he was campaigning for saying the Iraq invasion was wrong. But... How has Obama's foreign policy been ANY different from Bush's? With Bush... a snake is a snake. The Snake pretty much said what he planned to do from the beginning. Disagree with it as you will, the Snake stated his intentions. Obama, on the other hand, acted reasonable while campaigning, then spent billions of US money targeting Libya, for instance. (What the fuck? Khaddafy hadn't been a threat to the US since Reagan put him out of commission in the '80s.)
In short, Obama, by his own actions, is a Wall Street hack and pseudo-Republican on foreign issues. Yet... he poses so much better than that...
Even if I have a nice job in the fall of 2012, I don't see how I can vote for him.
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