“NEWSFLASH! Worlds’ Biggest Five-Year-Old* Turns 35 (in human years) In 18 Days!!!”
eesh. I am wondering if I will just wake up, see the sun and turn to !@#$ dust! I mean, who EVER thinks they’ll be THIRTY-FIVE one day. Five years from (EEEEEEEEE!) FORTY. I mean, ME. OLD. whoa.
I’m glad I’m here (in the world) and all, no doubt about it, but this whole getting old thing is a bit intimidating. It’s also sort of compulsive, in ways that you don’t think about. Yes, you must get older, but does one really have to say things like “YOU KIDS ARE MAKIN’ ME CRAZY!” and “When I was your age/when WE were kids… [fill in blank with anything that you ALLEGEDLY did not do that kids THESE days are doing that is annoying and/or rude or with generic thing that was better in the 70’s**…]!”? It happens, and you don’t even see it coming!
30 didn’t bother me. In fact, it was nice. It felt like a good transition – a milestone. 35 just feels like a STONE. In actuality, I don’t feel much different on the outside. But inside my little rattly-coconut-head, I am starting to have some serious “sand-running-out” thoughts. I’ve had several nights of panic about whether I will ever see any more of the world, whether I will be able to learn even a small fraction of what I want to, whether I will ever be all that I can be AND find time to properly stalk Vin… see? It’s a quandary.
I think the only way to cope – for the time being – is to plan small, keep myself occupied, be myself... I am having (hopefully) two birthday celebrations. One will be going fishing and having a cookout with the extended Geek/Rennie family, maybe on the 24th; and then having a Gigantor Blowout Good Time at Dragoncon with the Geek Patrol (TOBIE’S FIRST CON!!! YAY!! MY first Dragoncon -my first ANY ‘con in 14 or so years- as a fan… ee.)
There are also some BIG plans in the works. I am thinking about Serious Grown-up Stuff for the first time in my life. These are plans for things that will make a BIG difference in the long-run… but more about that, later.
Speaking of the long-run, what’s really keeping me going lately is a thought that’s become a sort of mantra for me:
”Sam-‘n-a-beach…Sam-‘n-a-beach…Sam-‘n-a-beach…”
‘has a nice ring to it, dunnit? : )
Tide pools, lounge chairs, happy-frisbee-dogs and portable work to you all,
-sam
*other than Bjork***, of course. But I think I really can claim the title, because I am definitely bigger than she is.
**these things are sadly rare. They include cartoons, candy, violence in schools, and behavior in libraries
***THE Queen Mum, Mother Ship of the Universal Order of Bink - in case you didn't know.
Saturday, August 02, 2003
Friday, August 01, 2003
I realized that, as soon as I’d made up my mind to getthe!@#$outtahere, I could see the beauty of this place with less pain and frustration. Maybe that’s how we should all try to be, all the time, about everything - but it seems very true that “you don’t know what you ‘got ‘till it’s gone…” I need to explore this aspect of my psyche more. Maybe it’s natural, maybe it’s zen, maybe it’s just me… I will write more as I figure it out.
One of my family members - one that I love dearly, one that I know loves me, but who is nonetheless sometimes a VERY negative person – asked me the other night “Sam, when did you fall out of love with the mountains? You were SO ready to go there.” I thought for a moment, and said with utter truth – “I never fell in love with them. I just needed to make a decision quickly so i could get away from there.” I've always thought this was one of the most beautiful places I’ve ever seen or been. The weather here is wonderful ¾ of the year, and there is an abundance of amazing creativity here. But it’s beauty is dangerous and oppressive, the ¼ of the year that the weather is bad, it is unbearably miserable (and dangerous), and the creativity is in a lot of cases jealously guarded, meagerly shared, narrow in it’s perspective, and controversial outside of the expected “norm”. I’d truly hoped that I might fall in love with the mountains, but I know that I will never cease to be an outsider and oddball here, and I will never acclimate to the terrain and the winters.
I have met some people here that I don’t ever want to lose contact with. I have learned a lot, and I have enjoyed some lovely days and nights here. But there’s always been a sharp edge. I’m willing to accept the fact that I may always be near the edge, no matter where I go, but frankly, I am tired of doing it alone. I’ve been so frustrated about the pressure of feeling so unprotected and so singular. Society’s answer is “GET A MAN!”, but that is DEFINITELY not my answer. I’ve even had some people tell me that if I didn’t get a man and have some kids, then I would be alone forever and there would be no one to take care of me when I get old. Who wants to live in a world where that’s even an acceptable consideration? What kind of reason is THAT for commitment and children? I would throw in the towel before I would ever accept a life like that. Ever. If I ever fall in love again, it will be for love's sake and nothing more. It will be obvious, instantaneous, passionate and undeniably real. It will certainly not be based on any kind of practical, so-called "reality" or necessity. Nothing less will do. I would rather be alone forever than settle for anything less than my ideal. I'll settle on a car, a book to read, something for dinner, a place to buy gas, a movie to watch, even a house and a job, but not a partner. You can write that in your family bible.
I have been torn for years now between the need for safety and some protection, for the company of someone that I could truly trust and lean on a little in the very worst of times, and between my fierce need for independence and freedom. Not to mention the fact that, in my way, I am desperately private and selective. I have some good, dear friends here, but none that I can trust the way I need to, or would be able to lean on if things got truly bad. Not to say that my friends here wouldn’t help me with anything – they would, and they have come through in some dire straits. But as bad as those times seemed to them, and even to me, they were not the worst of times, and luckily (for me) they didn’t exceed my limits of what I could ask of friends. But if I got sick, was badly injured, or if things hit true rock bottom, financially, mentally, emotionally… I would be unable to go to them, and they would be unable to understand.
As it is, there are only five people in the world that know me well enough to understand all of this. One of them is barely able to take care himself, one of them has a life-full of her own responsibilities (but I know that if I really needed her, she would be there), one has his own life, and has become distant from me, out of a combination of necessity and Brownian motion in the last ten years (but I also feel that if I truly needed him, he would not hesitate to come to my aid). The other two are there for me, and it's just up to me to be wise, accept their help as much as I can without taking advantage, be sure that I make their trust and effort worthwhile, and thank the Goddess that I have this many people that I can feel close to.
I guess I really am a delicate tropical hothouse flower. I need to be in a place that gets more sun, less winter, I need gardeners that are familiar with my species, and I need to be around other flowers like me, so that I can propagate.
Propagate: prop·a·gate [pr?pp e gàyt]
1. vti BIOLOGY reproduce organism: to reproduce a plant or animal or, cause one to reproduce
2. vti GARDENING create new plants: to multiply plants by the use of seeds or cuttings
3. vt spread something widely: to spread ideas or customs to many people
4. vti PHYSICS impel something forward: to move or transmit something forward in space, especially as a light or sound wave
[Late 16th century. From Latin propagare “to breed plants in layers (of vines),” from, ultimately, propago “layer,” literally “planting out,” from an assumed base meaning “to plant.”]
clinging to the rocks for the time being (and praying for some mulch),
-Floribunda Samiosa*
*this sounds like a Hogwarts' style curse, dunnit? like it would make one suddenly sprout big funny looking, sparkly, hallucinogenic and very aggressive flowers. :)
One of my family members - one that I love dearly, one that I know loves me, but who is nonetheless sometimes a VERY negative person – asked me the other night “Sam, when did you fall out of love with the mountains? You were SO ready to go there.” I thought for a moment, and said with utter truth – “I never fell in love with them. I just needed to make a decision quickly so i could get away from there.” I've always thought this was one of the most beautiful places I’ve ever seen or been. The weather here is wonderful ¾ of the year, and there is an abundance of amazing creativity here. But it’s beauty is dangerous and oppressive, the ¼ of the year that the weather is bad, it is unbearably miserable (and dangerous), and the creativity is in a lot of cases jealously guarded, meagerly shared, narrow in it’s perspective, and controversial outside of the expected “norm”. I’d truly hoped that I might fall in love with the mountains, but I know that I will never cease to be an outsider and oddball here, and I will never acclimate to the terrain and the winters.
I have met some people here that I don’t ever want to lose contact with. I have learned a lot, and I have enjoyed some lovely days and nights here. But there’s always been a sharp edge. I’m willing to accept the fact that I may always be near the edge, no matter where I go, but frankly, I am tired of doing it alone. I’ve been so frustrated about the pressure of feeling so unprotected and so singular. Society’s answer is “GET A MAN!”, but that is DEFINITELY not my answer. I’ve even had some people tell me that if I didn’t get a man and have some kids, then I would be alone forever and there would be no one to take care of me when I get old. Who wants to live in a world where that’s even an acceptable consideration? What kind of reason is THAT for commitment and children? I would throw in the towel before I would ever accept a life like that. Ever. If I ever fall in love again, it will be for love's sake and nothing more. It will be obvious, instantaneous, passionate and undeniably real. It will certainly not be based on any kind of practical, so-called "reality" or necessity. Nothing less will do. I would rather be alone forever than settle for anything less than my ideal. I'll settle on a car, a book to read, something for dinner, a place to buy gas, a movie to watch, even a house and a job, but not a partner. You can write that in your family bible.
I have been torn for years now between the need for safety and some protection, for the company of someone that I could truly trust and lean on a little in the very worst of times, and between my fierce need for independence and freedom. Not to mention the fact that, in my way, I am desperately private and selective. I have some good, dear friends here, but none that I can trust the way I need to, or would be able to lean on if things got truly bad. Not to say that my friends here wouldn’t help me with anything – they would, and they have come through in some dire straits. But as bad as those times seemed to them, and even to me, they were not the worst of times, and luckily (for me) they didn’t exceed my limits of what I could ask of friends. But if I got sick, was badly injured, or if things hit true rock bottom, financially, mentally, emotionally… I would be unable to go to them, and they would be unable to understand.
As it is, there are only five people in the world that know me well enough to understand all of this. One of them is barely able to take care himself, one of them has a life-full of her own responsibilities (but I know that if I really needed her, she would be there), one has his own life, and has become distant from me, out of a combination of necessity and Brownian motion in the last ten years (but I also feel that if I truly needed him, he would not hesitate to come to my aid). The other two are there for me, and it's just up to me to be wise, accept their help as much as I can without taking advantage, be sure that I make their trust and effort worthwhile, and thank the Goddess that I have this many people that I can feel close to.
I guess I really am a delicate tropical hothouse flower. I need to be in a place that gets more sun, less winter, I need gardeners that are familiar with my species, and I need to be around other flowers like me, so that I can propagate.
Propagate: prop·a·gate [pr?pp e gàyt]
1. vti BIOLOGY reproduce organism: to reproduce a plant or animal or, cause one to reproduce
2. vti GARDENING create new plants: to multiply plants by the use of seeds or cuttings
3. vt spread something widely: to spread ideas or customs to many people
4. vti PHYSICS impel something forward: to move or transmit something forward in space, especially as a light or sound wave
[Late 16th century. From Latin propagare “to breed plants in layers (of vines),” from, ultimately, propago “layer,” literally “planting out,” from an assumed base meaning “to plant.”]
clinging to the rocks for the time being (and praying for some mulch),
-Floribunda Samiosa*
*this sounds like a Hogwarts' style curse, dunnit? like it would make one suddenly sprout big funny looking, sparkly, hallucinogenic and very aggressive flowers. :)
Thursday, July 31, 2003
I’m reading “Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas”. Never read it before, but of course, I loved the movie. Johnny Depp, Benecio Del Toro*, Terry Gilliam, big fat special effects budget – how could it be anything other than excellent. Of course, I didn’t know until recently how unerringly true it is to not only the text, but the spirit of the book. I like Thompson’s simple, blunt writing style. I prefer him to Ginsberg and Kerouac (though I do have to say that ole’ Jack was a nice-looking man – AND he wrote “whee”** from time to time.) “Fear and Loathing” (in fact, all of his work) is a diary/commentary, basically. His Gonzo Journalism was all about experiencing his life to the edge – and over, if he could get there (and I think he did, quite often sometimes) and then writing about it, so that other people could have a sense of what he felt – without having to be so… “unsafe”. Without having to take the dangerous, insane, very visceral route that he did. He likes to live, to experience things to the nth degree, and he likes to share his opinions and feelings. (And he’d probably puke if he read this sappy girlie, bloody-hearted sounding description of him, too. But it’s true, and if he promises not to bring his gun, I’ll fight him over it…)
What I was thinking as I was reading last night was “Y’know… maybe that’s what I am – a Gonzo Journalist… but then I realized that I’m probably more of a Fozzie.
Yeah. There’s more tender humor to my reporting, more sentimentality, and a LOT less drugs. Whoa. I tend to not see lizards unless they’re running into the cracks in my steps (and they are definitely real, unless Luna is hallucinating, too). And I just don’t have the desire to randomly shoot things with giant guns. (I’d MUCH rather hit them with big sticks.)
Plus, my jokes are usually really, really bad.
Nonetheless, there’s a bit of Gonzo in me. I feel it surging in my head when I try to get to sleep, when I wake up with my jaw clenched and my fists tight. I think that’s the part of me that longs to strike out and walk the railroad tracks until they end and then find a dim bar, have a few drinks, listen to something sad on the jukebox and clobber somebody. It’s the part of me that wants to find out what the dark side of China and the bright side of New York is really about. It’s the part that wants to rant at intersections, tell my boss (and the government and my mother and preachers and teachers and Men…) to !@#$ OFF, the part that wishes I’d been with my brother and the Tuareg for that 400+ mile camel trek from Bamako to Tombouctou***…
I love being a woman, all my special powers mean a lot to me, but I rail and rage against the fact that I don’t have the power and safety that a man has… if I were a man, I’d be a LOT more Gonzo and a lot less Fozzie… it’s hard to live alone, work alone, drink alone, travel alone, be left alone. Maybe in my next lifetime…
For now, I’m dealing with the semi-Gonzo realization that it’s simply easier for me to love something when I know that I’m going to lose it – and all the other realizations that come with that. The why’s, how’s, and what-the-hell’s of it all. I hope I live long enough to understand me a little better. That would be so nice.
More about that, later. I promise.
And Ellie and Joe. I would love y’all both, no matter what (I think y’all know that by now), but I want you to know that you are more dear to me than either of you will ever know.
Much love,
-Sam
*not to mention, Tobey Maguire, Ellen Barkin, Gary Busey, Christina Ricci, Mark Harmon, Cameron Diaz, Katherine Helmond, Michael Jeter, Penn Jillette, Lyle Lovette, Flea, Harry Dean Stanton and Laraine Newman.
**”Oh, man,' said Dean to me as we stood in front of a bar, 'dig the street of life, the Chinamen that cut by in Chicago. What a weird town--wow, and that woman in that window up there, just looking down with her big breasts hanging from her nightgown, big wide eyes. Whee. Sal, we gotta go and never stop going till we get there.’”
***I can’t believe you got rid of that axe, Joe! I would love to have had that! : ) I’m just happy I got to SEE it!
What I was thinking as I was reading last night was “Y’know… maybe that’s what I am – a Gonzo Journalist… but then I realized that I’m probably more of a Fozzie.
Yeah. There’s more tender humor to my reporting, more sentimentality, and a LOT less drugs. Whoa. I tend to not see lizards unless they’re running into the cracks in my steps (and they are definitely real, unless Luna is hallucinating, too). And I just don’t have the desire to randomly shoot things with giant guns. (I’d MUCH rather hit them with big sticks.)
Plus, my jokes are usually really, really bad.
Nonetheless, there’s a bit of Gonzo in me. I feel it surging in my head when I try to get to sleep, when I wake up with my jaw clenched and my fists tight. I think that’s the part of me that longs to strike out and walk the railroad tracks until they end and then find a dim bar, have a few drinks, listen to something sad on the jukebox and clobber somebody. It’s the part of me that wants to find out what the dark side of China and the bright side of New York is really about. It’s the part that wants to rant at intersections, tell my boss (and the government and my mother and preachers and teachers and Men…) to !@#$ OFF, the part that wishes I’d been with my brother and the Tuareg for that 400+ mile camel trek from Bamako to Tombouctou***…
I love being a woman, all my special powers mean a lot to me, but I rail and rage against the fact that I don’t have the power and safety that a man has… if I were a man, I’d be a LOT more Gonzo and a lot less Fozzie… it’s hard to live alone, work alone, drink alone, travel alone, be left alone. Maybe in my next lifetime…
For now, I’m dealing with the semi-Gonzo realization that it’s simply easier for me to love something when I know that I’m going to lose it – and all the other realizations that come with that. The why’s, how’s, and what-the-hell’s of it all. I hope I live long enough to understand me a little better. That would be so nice.
More about that, later. I promise.
And Ellie and Joe. I would love y’all both, no matter what (I think y’all know that by now), but I want you to know that you are more dear to me than either of you will ever know.
Much love,
-Sam
*not to mention, Tobey Maguire, Ellen Barkin, Gary Busey, Christina Ricci, Mark Harmon, Cameron Diaz, Katherine Helmond, Michael Jeter, Penn Jillette, Lyle Lovette, Flea, Harry Dean Stanton and Laraine Newman.
**”Oh, man,' said Dean to me as we stood in front of a bar, 'dig the street of life, the Chinamen that cut by in Chicago. What a weird town--wow, and that woman in that window up there, just looking down with her big breasts hanging from her nightgown, big wide eyes. Whee. Sal, we gotta go and never stop going till we get there.’”
***I can’t believe you got rid of that axe, Joe! I would love to have had that! : ) I’m just happy I got to SEE it!
Sunday, July 27, 2003
dear diary,
myehn myehn myeh myeh, myehn...
KZZZT!
THIS B*!@# SESSION HAS BEEN INTERRUPTED* IN ORDER TO BRING YOU A SPECIAL ANNOUNCEMENT!
'Day Off' has been completely updated today! There is a fat new photo gallery, a new art gallery, a new HOTTIE (woo!), and 3 (yes, THREE!!) brand new “Days Off”, catching y’all up on some my latest adventures (prepare to print, and get out the magnifying glass. and PLEASE don’t hurt yourself falling off of computer chairs trying to read upside down!)
Ellie, happy birthday. #26 is yours to keep and frame. I can mail it along with your negatives if you so desire. Joe, warning: get out the kleenex again, but only for laugh-tears this time!
Buffy, same goes for you, I would like to prezzie you with #27, you can hang it up (IN THE NEW HOUSE!) next to #22. Thanks so much for being GIRRLZ with me last Saturday night, I needed it. And in response to your question, I get the energy from: my mom's genes, the music, and a desperate built-up need to SHAKE MY GROOVE THANG! :D
Rick and all the guys in Sevenmoore - thanks again for inviting me out. As if you can't tell, I had a BALL - even if y'all DIDN'T "play some skynrd, man!" ;)
Thank you all (EXCEPT FOR THE !@#$ BOARD OF COMMISSIONERS) for the inspiration, photo-ops, abs & biceps**, and gin and tonics***. I do hope you enjoy the outcome.
MUCH love,
-Sambolina
*YAY!
**well...
***yes, seamus, i did think of you.
myehn myehn myeh myeh, myehn...
KZZZT!
THIS B*!@# SESSION HAS BEEN INTERRUPTED* IN ORDER TO BRING YOU A SPECIAL ANNOUNCEMENT!
'Day Off' has been completely updated today! There is a fat new photo gallery, a new art gallery, a new HOTTIE (woo!), and 3 (yes, THREE!!) brand new “Days Off”, catching y’all up on some my latest adventures (prepare to print, and get out the magnifying glass. and PLEASE don’t hurt yourself falling off of computer chairs trying to read upside down!)
Ellie, happy birthday. #26 is yours to keep and frame. I can mail it along with your negatives if you so desire. Joe, warning: get out the kleenex again, but only for laugh-tears this time!
Buffy, same goes for you, I would like to prezzie you with #27, you can hang it up (IN THE NEW HOUSE!) next to #22. Thanks so much for being GIRRLZ with me last Saturday night, I needed it. And in response to your question, I get the energy from: my mom's genes, the music, and a desperate built-up need to SHAKE MY GROOVE THANG! :D
Rick and all the guys in Sevenmoore - thanks again for inviting me out. As if you can't tell, I had a BALL - even if y'all DIDN'T "play some skynrd, man!" ;)
Thank you all (EXCEPT FOR THE !@#$ BOARD OF COMMISSIONERS) for the inspiration, photo-ops, abs & biceps**, and gin and tonics***. I do hope you enjoy the outcome.
MUCH love,
-Sambolina
*YAY!
**well...
***yes, seamus, i did think of you.
Saturday, July 26, 2003
"It's bad timing and me
We find a lot of things out this way
And there's you
A little black cloud in a dress..."
Ahhh, Billy. I love you, dear.
(Remind me to show you guys the pics of Billy Bragg, his bass player Wiggy and I in a photo booth some time... )
For some reason, whenever I feel especially restless and girlie, lyrics from Worker's Playtime pop into my head. I think that most true B.B. fans find that album to be too sentimental and frivolous, but they are probably just suffering from the long-term results of severe testosterone poisoning* and so their opinions on such matters probably don't really count. The next time I'm in a photo booth with Billy, I'll ask him what he thinks about all of this - taking into consideration that he's probably got some testosterone poisoning, too - though it does sound as if he's been treated for it.
Raar. EVERYthing chafes. I feel like I have a bra on my LIFE. It's back to bobcat fence-pacing again. And so soon... raar. The thing is, while I was in California, I heard the proverbial 'baby cry'*** and now my pacing seems simultaneously more frantic AND pleasurable. as it, maybe it has a purpose, now. Maybe when that bobcat was pacing for so long, it had forgotten that there was, um, real prey**** out there... but after it heard that sound, maybe it's pacing felt better. like there was a reason for doing it, and for a little while, it could remember.
My friend Mark made a comment the other evening about my being a "free spirit", and then he signed my guest book and said "My comment to you that "you are a free spirit" is a little short of the mark... I feel you dear lady." Such a sweet thing to say, but it really made me think. I wrote him back and told him that as nice as the thought is, I am definitely NOT free. No more so than anyone else in this enormous monkey-cage. I also said that the only difference between me and some other people is that I see the cage, and I am CONSTANTLY looking for holes.
I realize that there are probably no holes, not anymore. The world is WAY past full, and relatively "safe" places to fly away to are non-existent; but that doesn't mean that you have to just pace and accept the section of cage that you've been given. What in the hell kind of bobcat
ARE you if you don't search EVERY INCH of your borders?
A very few brave and/or stupid people have asked me "So, what are you running from, Sam?"
Well, other than abusive family members, places that remind me of horribly murdered dear ones,
the oppression of being surrounded by ignorant, close-minded people who just can't handle the all of ANYthing - much less ME - oh, and ROADS FALLING OFF THE SIDES OF !@#$ MOUNTAINS....
I'm not running from. I'm running TO. New. New experience, new sky, new smells and faces and thoughts and ideas.
I'd have never been the person I am now (someone I happen to like very much) if I'd never made the jump to here... Who ever decided that "settling down" was the prime objective anyway? I mean, look at the Vikings and the Mongols (see Fri. Feb. 7 blog). What were THEY running away from (besides the worst !@#$ winters in the history of ever and no !@#$ FOOD, of course...) Not a damned thing. They were discovering new lands. They wanted a variety of things to rape and pillage - and who could bloody blame them. One gets tired of the same old raping and pillaging, day in, day out. Sheesh.
I have a card on my fridge that says "In order to discover new lands, one has to be willing to lose sight of the shore for a very long time." I AM WILLING.
I ache to discover new lands, even if they're mostly just in the Archipelago of Sam's Psyche.
I am already making a very small catalogue of the things I'd miss here... rainy lush summer is one. Satzes and other rennies is another... But i have become a pro at learning to lose things gracefully, and frankly, one feels a lot lighter when one loses things. I've also learned, thanks to my last big jump, that the important things - the things worth missing - can never be lost. As Buffy told her girls "Well, we'd just have a reason to visit California."
I sure do love that lady, and i feel as certain of her as I do of Sandy Parker and Charlyn... No matter where I go, Half Moon Bay or Ulaanbaatar, we will still be close. All the chaff will be left behind, and I will have a handful of golden wheat - not to mention a new sky to grow under.
"If no one seems to understand
Start your own revolution and cut out the middleman -
In a perfect world we'd all sing in tune
But this is reality so give me some room -
So join the struggle while you may
The Revolution is just a T-shirt away -
Waiting for the Great Leap Forwards"
MUCH love,
-s
*as dear Dave Barry points out in his 'Complete Guide to Guys'**, steroids - INCLUDING testosterone are a controlled substance and are DANGEROUS.
**buy this book, steal it, or check it out from the library. DO read it. DO NOT attempt to drink anything WHILE reading it.
***see Saturday, Jan. 18 blog for the original reference, and Friday, June 27 for the sequel...
****sorry, i know it's a creepy thought, but it's real life.
We find a lot of things out this way
And there's you
A little black cloud in a dress..."
Ahhh, Billy. I love you, dear.
(Remind me to show you guys the pics of Billy Bragg, his bass player Wiggy and I in a photo booth some time... )
For some reason, whenever I feel especially restless and girlie, lyrics from Worker's Playtime pop into my head. I think that most true B.B. fans find that album to be too sentimental and frivolous, but they are probably just suffering from the long-term results of severe testosterone poisoning* and so their opinions on such matters probably don't really count. The next time I'm in a photo booth with Billy, I'll ask him what he thinks about all of this - taking into consideration that he's probably got some testosterone poisoning, too - though it does sound as if he's been treated for it.
Raar. EVERYthing chafes. I feel like I have a bra on my LIFE. It's back to bobcat fence-pacing again. And so soon... raar. The thing is, while I was in California, I heard the proverbial 'baby cry'*** and now my pacing seems simultaneously more frantic AND pleasurable. as it, maybe it has a purpose, now. Maybe when that bobcat was pacing for so long, it had forgotten that there was, um, real prey**** out there... but after it heard that sound, maybe it's pacing felt better. like there was a reason for doing it, and for a little while, it could remember.
My friend Mark made a comment the other evening about my being a "free spirit", and then he signed my guest book and said "My comment to you that "you are a free spirit" is a little short of the mark... I feel you dear lady." Such a sweet thing to say, but it really made me think. I wrote him back and told him that as nice as the thought is, I am definitely NOT free. No more so than anyone else in this enormous monkey-cage. I also said that the only difference between me and some other people is that I see the cage, and I am CONSTANTLY looking for holes.
I realize that there are probably no holes, not anymore. The world is WAY past full, and relatively "safe" places to fly away to are non-existent; but that doesn't mean that you have to just pace and accept the section of cage that you've been given. What in the hell kind of bobcat
ARE you if you don't search EVERY INCH of your borders?
A very few brave and/or stupid people have asked me "So, what are you running from, Sam?"
Well, other than abusive family members, places that remind me of horribly murdered dear ones,
the oppression of being surrounded by ignorant, close-minded people who just can't handle the all of ANYthing - much less ME - oh, and ROADS FALLING OFF THE SIDES OF !@#$ MOUNTAINS....
I'm not running from. I'm running TO. New. New experience, new sky, new smells and faces and thoughts and ideas.
I'd have never been the person I am now (someone I happen to like very much) if I'd never made the jump to here... Who ever decided that "settling down" was the prime objective anyway? I mean, look at the Vikings and the Mongols (see Fri. Feb. 7 blog). What were THEY running away from (besides the worst !@#$ winters in the history of ever and no !@#$ FOOD, of course...) Not a damned thing. They were discovering new lands. They wanted a variety of things to rape and pillage - and who could bloody blame them. One gets tired of the same old raping and pillaging, day in, day out. Sheesh.
I have a card on my fridge that says "In order to discover new lands, one has to be willing to lose sight of the shore for a very long time." I AM WILLING.
I ache to discover new lands, even if they're mostly just in the Archipelago of Sam's Psyche.
I am already making a very small catalogue of the things I'd miss here... rainy lush summer is one. Satzes and other rennies is another... But i have become a pro at learning to lose things gracefully, and frankly, one feels a lot lighter when one loses things. I've also learned, thanks to my last big jump, that the important things - the things worth missing - can never be lost. As Buffy told her girls "Well, we'd just have a reason to visit California."
I sure do love that lady, and i feel as certain of her as I do of Sandy Parker and Charlyn... No matter where I go, Half Moon Bay or Ulaanbaatar, we will still be close. All the chaff will be left behind, and I will have a handful of golden wheat - not to mention a new sky to grow under.
"If no one seems to understand
Start your own revolution and cut out the middleman -
In a perfect world we'd all sing in tune
But this is reality so give me some room -
So join the struggle while you may
The Revolution is just a T-shirt away -
Waiting for the Great Leap Forwards"
MUCH love,
-s
*as dear Dave Barry points out in his 'Complete Guide to Guys'**, steroids - INCLUDING testosterone are a controlled substance and are DANGEROUS.
**buy this book, steal it, or check it out from the library. DO read it. DO NOT attempt to drink anything WHILE reading it.
***see Saturday, Jan. 18 blog for the original reference, and Friday, June 27 for the sequel...
****sorry, i know it's a creepy thought, but it's real life.
Friday, July 25, 2003
To live content with small means,
to seek elegance rather than luxury,
and refinement rather than fashion,
to be worthy, not respectable,
and wealthy, not rich.
To study hard, think quietly, talk gently, act frankly,
to listen to stars and birds, babes and sages, with open heart,
to bear all cheerfully, do all bravely, await occasions,
hurry never.
In a word, to let the spiritual, unbidden and unconscious,
grow up through the common.
This is to be my symphony.
-William Henry Channing-
to seek elegance rather than luxury,
and refinement rather than fashion,
to be worthy, not respectable,
and wealthy, not rich.
To study hard, think quietly, talk gently, act frankly,
to listen to stars and birds, babes and sages, with open heart,
to bear all cheerfully, do all bravely, await occasions,
hurry never.
In a word, to let the spiritual, unbidden and unconscious,
grow up through the common.
This is to be my symphony.
-William Henry Channing-
Saturday, July 19, 2003
A True Rant!
I have some people to add to the “Boot to the Head” list.
People who do ANYTHING in the theatre to distract me from the !@#$ EIGHT DOLLARS worth of film I am attempting to see. Talking, explaining the !@#$ movie to one’s idiot neighbor, crying babies or loud kids (ESPECIALLY in the evening shows of adult films. Raar!) !@#$ CELL PHONES, heckling*, etc. And yes, I want to see and hear the trailers, too.
…and speaking of cell phones, people in restaurants ought to be allowed to throw food (well, rolls at least) at people who sit there and talk on their damned phones.
People who come into public service facilities (eateries, convenience stores, department stores, federal buildings, LIBRARIES, etc.) and use the fact that you are FORCED to be polite and help them to exercise their inferiority issues. It is just NOT a good idea to treat those whom you rely on for assistance, clean potties, speedy checkout, or sanitary food like peons, people! You have been warned.
People who leave wads of gum ANYWHERE OTHER THAN THE TRASH!!!
People who let their kids run wild and loud in places where other people need/want quiet.
I won’t go to Chuckie Cheese and insist on a nice, quiet meal, YOU keep your little rowdy heathens outta my favorite bookshop.
Lets add certain adults to that list, too.
Gum and food smackers. OMG. I honestly want to believe in hell when I am around these people. And sadly enough, kid are not the worse transgressors. The kids who are guilty of this have an excuse. They're kids, they haven't learned yet. You can't say SQUAT to the adults who commit this heinous annoyance.
People who are purposefully obnoxious on the roads. This includes – yes, the whole cell phone issue, throwing out trash, impolite passing or just not getting the hell out of the way when someone else wants to pass.
Peeing on the seat... ladies do this, too. Just wipe it off, people! It's YOUR pee!
Boys who compare real women unfavorably to anorexic, collagen and silicone implanted, freak-of-nature celebrities. When you guys GET these girls, THEN you can talk smack. Until then, shut up and consider yourself lucky that real women will have anything to do with you.
Hugging people without being sure that it's ok, or touching ANY bits** without permission. The most obvious transgressors are old men. I wish I had a taser SUIT.
Those missing link people – yes, there are still some around - who think that if you are not a Caucasian Anglo-Saxon Heterosexual (Male) Christian who cannot suppress his or her emotions and opinions that you are not worthy to share the planets’ available food or oxygen.
People who have the unmitigated gall to tell ANY woman – but especially young girls – that their butts, or ANY part of their body are too large, too small, too ANYTHING that is their natural, unique and beautiful shape. If you are truly concerned about their health, then say so, kindly. Otherwise, shut the bleep up.
That’s it for now, but I expect that this list will grow as time goes by. Feel free to write with any suggestions that you might have to add to my list.
Thanks, and by the way, your butt looks GREAT – and I’m not gonna call you on your cell phone during a movie to tell you that!
Rant on, folks!
xo
-s
*this does not count if the movie is “Dungeons and Dragons” or any other REALLY bad movie, or a movie at the Brew&View. Heckling in these cases is expected and is actually an
intrinsic part of the viewing experience. Or in the case of "D&D", the only way anyone might get any entertainment for their $.
*my jewelry is fondled more than you would ever believe. yes. my jewelry.
I have some people to add to the “Boot to the Head” list.
People who do ANYTHING in the theatre to distract me from the !@#$ EIGHT DOLLARS worth of film I am attempting to see. Talking, explaining the !@#$ movie to one’s idiot neighbor, crying babies or loud kids (ESPECIALLY in the evening shows of adult films. Raar!) !@#$ CELL PHONES, heckling*, etc. And yes, I want to see and hear the trailers, too.
…and speaking of cell phones, people in restaurants ought to be allowed to throw food (well, rolls at least) at people who sit there and talk on their damned phones.
People who come into public service facilities (eateries, convenience stores, department stores, federal buildings, LIBRARIES, etc.) and use the fact that you are FORCED to be polite and help them to exercise their inferiority issues. It is just NOT a good idea to treat those whom you rely on for assistance, clean potties, speedy checkout, or sanitary food like peons, people! You have been warned.
People who leave wads of gum ANYWHERE OTHER THAN THE TRASH!!!
People who let their kids run wild and loud in places where other people need/want quiet.
I won’t go to Chuckie Cheese and insist on a nice, quiet meal, YOU keep your little rowdy heathens outta my favorite bookshop.
Lets add certain adults to that list, too.
Gum and food smackers. OMG. I honestly want to believe in hell when I am around these people. And sadly enough, kid are not the worse transgressors. The kids who are guilty of this have an excuse. They're kids, they haven't learned yet. You can't say SQUAT to the adults who commit this heinous annoyance.
People who are purposefully obnoxious on the roads. This includes – yes, the whole cell phone issue, throwing out trash, impolite passing or just not getting the hell out of the way when someone else wants to pass.
Peeing on the seat... ladies do this, too. Just wipe it off, people! It's YOUR pee!
Boys who compare real women unfavorably to anorexic, collagen and silicone implanted, freak-of-nature celebrities. When you guys GET these girls, THEN you can talk smack. Until then, shut up and consider yourself lucky that real women will have anything to do with you.
Hugging people without being sure that it's ok, or touching ANY bits** without permission. The most obvious transgressors are old men. I wish I had a taser SUIT.
Those missing link people – yes, there are still some around - who think that if you are not a Caucasian Anglo-Saxon Heterosexual (Male) Christian who cannot suppress his or her emotions and opinions that you are not worthy to share the planets’ available food or oxygen.
People who have the unmitigated gall to tell ANY woman – but especially young girls – that their butts, or ANY part of their body are too large, too small, too ANYTHING that is their natural, unique and beautiful shape. If you are truly concerned about their health, then say so, kindly. Otherwise, shut the bleep up.
That’s it for now, but I expect that this list will grow as time goes by. Feel free to write with any suggestions that you might have to add to my list.
Thanks, and by the way, your butt looks GREAT – and I’m not gonna call you on your cell phone during a movie to tell you that!
Rant on, folks!
xo
-s
*this does not count if the movie is “Dungeons and Dragons” or any other REALLY bad movie, or a movie at the Brew&View. Heckling in these cases is expected and is actually an
intrinsic part of the viewing experience. Or in the case of "D&D", the only way anyone might get any entertainment for their $.
*my jewelry is fondled more than you would ever believe. yes. my jewelry.
Friday, July 18, 2003
back in the day, before the expensive & intensive therapy*, the fat chunks of anti-venin-like misery that life handed me in the 2 or 3 years before i moved here, before i just pulled up my proverbial socks and grew up a little, i used to have pretty severe panic attacks. they were related to some odd triggers - old sheds, orange electric cords**, music by 'the eagles'***...
i know. it all sounds pretty odd, even to me. but believe me, there was a good concrete reason for all of it. nonetheless, i am happy to say that i don't have panic attacks any more. even on the plane flying out of !@#$ o'hare in the !@#$ thunderstorm, i just made myself relax and i coped. ok, i also took a sedative and prayed really hard, but still, i did not panic.
however, on the way to work this morning, driving up 176, curving up and through the lush, almost tropical scenery, broken only by the giant orange diamond signs:
"WARNING! MEN DIPPING AND LEANING ON SHOVELS!"; "DANGER! ROAD FALLING OFF THE SIDE OF THE DAMNED MOUNTAIN!", etc. i honestly think i started getting a little... 'trepid' just seeing the signs, all the big ncdot equipment and the 'rud wuhkuhs'****, but when i saw how much of the road is now just GONE, and a man on a bulldozer that was hanging off the lip, i remembered that feeling, the beginning of panic. the lurch in the stomach (my vertigo has gotten worse over the years here, to the point that thinking about a steep drop makes me queasy), the wooziness and the start of hyperventilation. i got a grip on it (that would be a very bad place to have my first attack in years) but what really galvanized me was the sight, as i rounded the curve again, of a boulder the size of Concrete at the edge of MY lane. the SAFE lane. !@#$!!! instead of panic, i felt MAD, partially because this is just ridiculous, and partly because it looks as if i'll be driving in trucker hell, sucking up burning brake fumes to and fro, now.
yes, people, it's a LOVELY view. enjoy it before something falls on you or you fall on something.
oh yeah, and be sure to visit the Big Bradley Falls****** while you're here.
nostalgic for hurricanes,
-s
*worth EVERY penny.
**people here call them "drop cords". damned yankees.
***sadly, this is not a joke. i have had to leave more restaurants on the first notes of "take it easy" than you would believe and don't even get me started on !@#$ "best of my love" or... *shudder* "hotel california"... strangely enough, though, i love 'desperado'.
****a lot of them are inmates, and honey, they make carnies look like the frickin' chippendales.
*****i tried to find articles about all the people who have fallen from here and died or were permanently injured (there have been at least one a year since i moved here, last year there were three.) but strangely enough the polk county tourism bureau isn't publishing that stuff. hm.
i know. it all sounds pretty odd, even to me. but believe me, there was a good concrete reason for all of it. nonetheless, i am happy to say that i don't have panic attacks any more. even on the plane flying out of !@#$ o'hare in the !@#$ thunderstorm, i just made myself relax and i coped. ok, i also took a sedative and prayed really hard, but still, i did not panic.
however, on the way to work this morning, driving up 176, curving up and through the lush, almost tropical scenery, broken only by the giant orange diamond signs:
"WARNING! MEN DIPPING AND LEANING ON SHOVELS!"; "DANGER! ROAD FALLING OFF THE SIDE OF THE DAMNED MOUNTAIN!", etc. i honestly think i started getting a little... 'trepid' just seeing the signs, all the big ncdot equipment and the 'rud wuhkuhs'****, but when i saw how much of the road is now just GONE, and a man on a bulldozer that was hanging off the lip, i remembered that feeling, the beginning of panic. the lurch in the stomach (my vertigo has gotten worse over the years here, to the point that thinking about a steep drop makes me queasy), the wooziness and the start of hyperventilation. i got a grip on it (that would be a very bad place to have my first attack in years) but what really galvanized me was the sight, as i rounded the curve again, of a boulder the size of Concrete at the edge of MY lane. the SAFE lane. !@#$!!! instead of panic, i felt MAD, partially because this is just ridiculous, and partly because it looks as if i'll be driving in trucker hell, sucking up burning brake fumes to and fro, now.
yes, people, it's a LOVELY view. enjoy it before something falls on you or you fall on something.
oh yeah, and be sure to visit the Big Bradley Falls****** while you're here.
nostalgic for hurricanes,
-s
*worth EVERY penny.
**people here call them "drop cords". damned yankees.
***sadly, this is not a joke. i have had to leave more restaurants on the first notes of "take it easy" than you would believe and don't even get me started on !@#$ "best of my love" or... *shudder* "hotel california"... strangely enough, though, i love 'desperado'.
****a lot of them are inmates, and honey, they make carnies look like the frickin' chippendales.
*****i tried to find articles about all the people who have fallen from here and died or were permanently injured (there have been at least one a year since i moved here, last year there were three.) but strangely enough the polk county tourism bureau isn't publishing that stuff. hm.
Thursday, July 17, 2003
its been another one of those "matrix-ey" days... i've had a lot of those lately. not bad, just extremely odd. even more coincidences than usual (and for me that is a LOT). every time i look at a clock it's 11:11, 1:11, 3:33... things LOOK odd... when i got out of my truck this a.m., there was a couple unloading two beautiful golden retriever pups for a stroll. i asked their names, and they were "rebel" and "dixie". i said "i'm from mississippi, i like those names!" and they looked shocked and said "really? where?" three or four sentences later, it turns out that the man's (clay odom) dad was the superintendent of the school that several of us went to and a couple of us taught at*. most people don't even know what "new augusta ms." is, but i run into people from there on my way to work, a thousand miles and light years of memory away.
the weather's wonderful. very hot and nicely humid. maybe it's set on that in my pod, to lull me. :) it knows i'm "homesick", so i run into folks from home. why can't it realize that vin diesel (or maybe johnny depp**) needs a vacation home in polk county?
i got a VERY sweet letter from ellie... i am going juking on saturday night. going to see 7Moore at the Orange Peel, by invitation from the band, no less... yay,me! jen called, Dragoncon and birthday plans are under way, and baby and mum&dad seem to be doing well... i got a nice call with lovely, lovely reading included from aunt sue last night, so no, definitely not bad matrix-ey... but still. there is a surreality to all of it that just makes me wonder. could my life really be like this? could i really feel and think this way all the time? i could definitely be responsible for the creation of vin diesel in a program like this...
GOD MADE ORC BOYS! :D
ok. i'll shut up. i have no right to complain - though i'm not complaining. just... wondering...
anyone else having these kinds of days?**** write me. ken won't admit it, but every time i mention it, he gives me a funny look. MAYYYYbe it's just a "damn, sam, smoke ANOTHER one!" look, but maybe he knows EXACTLY what i'm talking about.
ok. i'll really shut up this time...
FOR NOW!
waiting for the red pill (or was it the blue?),
-sam
* but also a place where i did not learn to end a sentence with a preposition. good thing i taught art, eh?
**sorry vin. i'm sure it's a passing thing.***
***ok, maybe not. *sigh* :D
****i've had them all of my life, but this damned movie has really made me wonder what in the hell is UP! ok, i'll admit it, it's just rerouted my normal hogwarts express of thought, but still! what in the hell is UP! (it's far more amusing to blame the movie, or even The Matrix than to blame "god" or "fate" or "pheromones" or what-the-hell-ever. :)
the weather's wonderful. very hot and nicely humid. maybe it's set on that in my pod, to lull me. :) it knows i'm "homesick", so i run into folks from home. why can't it realize that vin diesel (or maybe johnny depp**) needs a vacation home in polk county?
i got a VERY sweet letter from ellie... i am going juking on saturday night. going to see 7Moore at the Orange Peel, by invitation from the band, no less... yay,me! jen called, Dragoncon and birthday plans are under way, and baby and mum&dad seem to be doing well... i got a nice call with lovely, lovely reading included from aunt sue last night, so no, definitely not bad matrix-ey... but still. there is a surreality to all of it that just makes me wonder. could my life really be like this? could i really feel and think this way all the time? i could definitely be responsible for the creation of vin diesel in a program like this...
GOD MADE ORC BOYS! :D
ok. i'll shut up. i have no right to complain - though i'm not complaining. just... wondering...
anyone else having these kinds of days?**** write me. ken won't admit it, but every time i mention it, he gives me a funny look. MAYYYYbe it's just a "damn, sam, smoke ANOTHER one!" look, but maybe he knows EXACTLY what i'm talking about.
ok. i'll really shut up this time...
FOR NOW!
waiting for the red pill (or was it the blue?),
-sam
* but also a place where i did not learn to end a sentence with a preposition. good thing i taught art, eh?
**sorry vin. i'm sure it's a passing thing.***
***ok, maybe not. *sigh* :D
****i've had them all of my life, but this damned movie has really made me wonder what in the hell is UP! ok, i'll admit it, it's just rerouted my normal hogwarts express of thought, but still! what in the hell is UP! (it's far more amusing to blame the movie, or even The Matrix than to blame "god" or "fate" or "pheromones" or what-the-hell-ever. :)
Wednesday, July 16, 2003
sorry folks, i have SO much catching up to do here, but time and tide and colonel klink conspire against me. i did want to pop in briefly to catch y'all up on the symbolic occurence that has recently, er, occurred.
the road that i drive to work everyday (highway 176, steepest grade on the eastern coast, narrow two lane, curvy-@ss, steep-@$$ road) is beautiful. i pass at least a dozen waterfalls every day, there are steep cliffs and hills up on one side, with the falls plashing onto the road after big rains, and a very deep gorge leading down to the river on the other. it's extremely pretty, but it's also terrifying - especially in the winter - and my fear and dislike of it increases daily. after the rain, i pass and find big mudslides across the road, with giant boulders slid to a stop at the end of the muddy streak. NOT pleasant.
the latest, though, just takes the !@#$ cake. i came back from my trip and on my first day back to work find the road full of cones and flags. i wasn't sure what it meant until i headed home that evening and found that the right lane (heading down the mountain, the lane on the deep river-gorge side) IS SLIDING OFF OF THE !@#$ MOUNTAIN!!!
a good-sized chunk of that lane of the highway, is in several places, just GONE. what makes it REALLY scary is that it is in an especially treacherous part of the road, in a steep curve where visibility is nil and if someone else is coming you have no choice but to hug the guardrail. this is just sickening to even THINK about - especially if you are a vertiginous flatlander who drives a big-@$$ pick-up truck.
so, now i have to drive home down the interstate part of the steepest grade on the east coast, 4-6 lanes of downhill queasiness crammed with 18 wheelers and loony end-of-the-day traffic.
no one could ever call me a fraidy-cat*, but bugger all THIS for a lark! i just can't cuss enough anymore. i just crave flat land and open sky more than anybody could ever imagine.
and on top of all of this, i finally know what it is that's really missing in my life.
it's gonna be a long five years. IF I DON'T DRIVE OFF A !@#$ CLIFF FIRST!
raar!
a raar-free week might have been one of the worst things that could have happened to me right now, but at least i think i see a hole in the fence.
!@#$ %^&* !@$#@!!,
-s
*at least they damned well BETTER not...
the road that i drive to work everyday (highway 176, steepest grade on the eastern coast, narrow two lane, curvy-@ss, steep-@$$ road) is beautiful. i pass at least a dozen waterfalls every day, there are steep cliffs and hills up on one side, with the falls plashing onto the road after big rains, and a very deep gorge leading down to the river on the other. it's extremely pretty, but it's also terrifying - especially in the winter - and my fear and dislike of it increases daily. after the rain, i pass and find big mudslides across the road, with giant boulders slid to a stop at the end of the muddy streak. NOT pleasant.
the latest, though, just takes the !@#$ cake. i came back from my trip and on my first day back to work find the road full of cones and flags. i wasn't sure what it meant until i headed home that evening and found that the right lane (heading down the mountain, the lane on the deep river-gorge side) IS SLIDING OFF OF THE !@#$ MOUNTAIN!!!
a good-sized chunk of that lane of the highway, is in several places, just GONE. what makes it REALLY scary is that it is in an especially treacherous part of the road, in a steep curve where visibility is nil and if someone else is coming you have no choice but to hug the guardrail. this is just sickening to even THINK about - especially if you are a vertiginous flatlander who drives a big-@$$ pick-up truck.
so, now i have to drive home down the interstate part of the steepest grade on the east coast, 4-6 lanes of downhill queasiness crammed with 18 wheelers and loony end-of-the-day traffic.
no one could ever call me a fraidy-cat*, but bugger all THIS for a lark! i just can't cuss enough anymore. i just crave flat land and open sky more than anybody could ever imagine.
and on top of all of this, i finally know what it is that's really missing in my life.
it's gonna be a long five years. IF I DON'T DRIVE OFF A !@#$ CLIFF FIRST!
raar!
a raar-free week might have been one of the worst things that could have happened to me right now, but at least i think i see a hole in the fence.
!@#$ %^&* !@$#@!!,
-s
*at least they damned well BETTER not...
Saturday, July 12, 2003
there is still a lot to tell about my trip, and i will have tons of pics to share, but i am definitely back in the "real world" now. i think that horrible trip back (7 gate changes, MUY multiple flight delays, an hour and a half on the runway, taking off in a lightning storm and pitching and yawing in the plane to the point of fear of death, need for sedatives and 'hunchie'* skwunch...) was symbolic of my being sucked back into the dark gravity of this place.** yeah. don't get me started.
so, good news is, i will be getting a part time employee here! i am sure that a lot of people will apply, but keep your fingers crossed because there is one candidate in particular that i am hoping for... we shall see.
in other good news, i got my grass cut and my weeds whacked! i was beginning to think it'd be cheaper (especially since i owe wendi a lawnmower now... moo.) to just buy some monkeys and parrots and get luna a tiger suit and charge tickets for the "Jungle Tour!" but some local kids gave me a fair price and cut it back enough that i am not too intimidated to work on the rest. yardwork sunday. whee. hopefully it will pay off in figs, though...
and to round off today's news, one of my volunteers brought me a lovely and very apt quote that i want to share with all of you. i need to remember this when i feel the gravity pull and begin to plot and plan my inevitable escape.
this was written by Rumi:
Conventional knowledge is death
to our souls, and it is not really ours.
We must become ignorant
of what we've been taught,
and be, instead, bewildered.
Run from what's profitable and comfortable.
If you drink those liqueurs, you'll
spill the springwater of your real life.
Forget safety.
Live where you fear to live.
Destroy your reputation.
Be notorious.
I have tried prudent planning
long enough. From now on,
I'll be mad.
*********
much love and notorious madness,
-sam
*'hunchie' is my beloved quasimodo rag doll who is the best substitute i've found for poor old foofoo, who is too elderly and fragile for travel or serious skwunches anymore. she is the queen of my 'swamp toys' collection. i need to take photos of all of them for y'all... the REAL island of misfit toys in in my bedroom. WHICH REMINDS ME! if you see a "scrump" doll cheap (under 15$, PLEASE buy it, i will pay you back! :)
**i definitely suit my birth elements of fire and water
so, good news is, i will be getting a part time employee here! i am sure that a lot of people will apply, but keep your fingers crossed because there is one candidate in particular that i am hoping for... we shall see.
in other good news, i got my grass cut and my weeds whacked! i was beginning to think it'd be cheaper (especially since i owe wendi a lawnmower now... moo.) to just buy some monkeys and parrots and get luna a tiger suit and charge tickets for the "Jungle Tour!" but some local kids gave me a fair price and cut it back enough that i am not too intimidated to work on the rest. yardwork sunday. whee. hopefully it will pay off in figs, though...
and to round off today's news, one of my volunteers brought me a lovely and very apt quote that i want to share with all of you. i need to remember this when i feel the gravity pull and begin to plot and plan my inevitable escape.
this was written by Rumi:
Conventional knowledge is death
to our souls, and it is not really ours.
We must become ignorant
of what we've been taught,
and be, instead, bewildered.
Run from what's profitable and comfortable.
If you drink those liqueurs, you'll
spill the springwater of your real life.
Forget safety.
Live where you fear to live.
Destroy your reputation.
Be notorious.
I have tried prudent planning
long enough. From now on,
I'll be mad.
*********
much love and notorious madness,
-sam
*'hunchie' is my beloved quasimodo rag doll who is the best substitute i've found for poor old foofoo, who is too elderly and fragile for travel or serious skwunches anymore. she is the queen of my 'swamp toys' collection. i need to take photos of all of them for y'all... the REAL island of misfit toys in in my bedroom. WHICH REMINDS ME! if you see a "scrump" doll cheap (under 15$, PLEASE buy it, i will pay you back! :)
**i definitely suit my birth elements of fire and water
Thursday, July 10, 2003
‘binka binka bink-bink bink bink bee…’
After we left Emperor Norton’s grave in the beautiful Sunshine Garden (this was on Wednesday, a week and a day and a lifetime ago), we drove into San Francisco. Joe passed through the Mission district, so I could see some of the murals, and I did, but even better, I got to see some concentrated LIFE. We’d been in the hills and the suburbs, so the difference between those places and the Mission district (indeed, all of inner San Francisco) was like the difference between deep open sea and the riot of sheer existence that you get around reefs and thermal spouts. I was so amazed by seeing kosher delis, Asian restaurants, taqueria stands – and so on - altogether on one street. Oh, and every kind of person wearing every sort of style…we are so ‘narrow’ here!
There were antique cars of all sorts, polished to jewel gleam, bikes, motorcycles, skaters, and myriad pedestrians. There was art on every corner, and a jumble of sound and smells. Sam heaven!
We found a good parking spot and only had to walk a few blocks into the heart of Chinatown. My first treat was a small park, built under pagoda arches, and full of older Chinese men playing Xiangqi*. We stood and looked at our guidebooks (yes, we are all huge nerds) and then headed off. We stopped first in this beautiful lantern-hung street to shop for calligraphy. While I waited for my ink to dry I found a small Xiangqi set to make charms for the kids and some beautiful paper-cuts**. When I emerged onto the street, Joe and Ellie said that I could pick the lunch-spot. I’d read in my guidebook about a sort of hidden restaurant that was not frequented by tourists, was one of the best-kept secrets in Chinatown and was located under a Buddhist temple in an alley with some of the most beautifully painted balconies in the district. All true. The ‘Pot Sticker’ was small and very un-“Chinese restaurant”-y. It also looked like it was favored mainly by locals and Chinese folks. They had dim sum on the menu to please Ellie, and the back page was full of enough “gross stuff” to make Joe and I happy.*** We ordered those buns I see in all my favorite movies – and now I see why those guys are always fighting over them. Oh my god! Steamed barbecue pork buns, y’all! mmmMMmMmmM! We had some other dishes, soup, fish, chicken, rice. Everything was very fresh, no msg, not much salt… it was fantastic. And just when I thought it couldn’t get any better, the “Starlite Musical Review” kicked into full swing. A group of older Chinese folks downstairs, in this great little mirrored lounge with a dance floor, were singing karaoke and playing some traditional Chinese instruments along with the cd’s. ‘Chinese opera mainly, but we were also treated to lovely renditions of (turn your volume up!)“Guantanamera" and “Que Sera Sera”. You just had to be there. After we ate, we went downstairs to join them. Joe and Ellie danced, and I tried… they were very nice to us – we “Glamour Gals” and “Handsome Men”. I think Mr. David Lee (on the Gouzhen, ladies and gentlemen!) was preparing an offer of marriage.
After that we had the energy and the spirit to shop to my heart’s content. I bought lots of little prezzies, lanterns, chopsticks – things I would want. I treated myself to a GORGEOUS black silk-velvet mandarin jacket with embroidered red medallions and frogs (reversible with an embroidered plum satin lining) as well as some navy silk mandarin dress-jammies. I went to the Golden Gate Fortune Cookie Factory and into some of the VERY odd apothecaries and teashops. Joe and Ellen were unbelievably patient with me and my shopping. I know that I am loved.
I found one especially wonderful surprise in one of the big touristy shops. All the shops have Bruce mementos of every description, but we turned the corner and Ellie said “Sam! Jet!” and there he was, emblazoned on a silk banner. I went into the shop, and hanging there among the paper dragons, lanterns, lion-heads, coolie hats and Bruce posters, were several Wong Fei Hong and Wushu Kid banners. So what? So has there ever – in the history of American Cinema and its love of Chinese action - been another man worthy to hang beside Bruce? No other martial artist, in all this time has been popular enough to make his way into American hearts and Chinese shops – until Jet Li. I was as proud as a mama bear! Bo may know football, but SAM KNOWS ACTION HOTTIES! J
We slipped into Little Italy for a cappuccino and tiramsu break, and then dipped back into Chinatown for some more shopping and photo ops. I was feeling a little heartbroken about missing the annual lion dance competition that was happening on Saturday, and then just as we were headed down to the wharf, a troupe of young dancers and their lions appeared in the street. The Leung White Cranes, to be precise, and they treated me to pictures and peace signs.
We went to see the Golden Gate Bridge – well, the end of it that wasn’t shrouded in fog. I saw Alcatraz, and a pirate ship. Joe treated us to Irish coffees and then we walked down the street to an excellent seafood place on the docks. A perfect day. Memories of colors and smells and smiles that I hope I will never forget. I wore the necklace that Mrs. Carr gave me, which her husband Joe made. It is made of red and white beads, and a yellow mah jong tile that says “fah”. That means ‘prosperity’. Several of the folks in Chinatown commented on it. I thanked them, and hoped that my smile told them that I was very prosperous indeed.
Much love and fah,
-Sam
p.s. I’m warning y’all, there are buckets of pics on the way to illustrate all of these magic moments! Photo gallery to be updated soon!
*the Mandarins pronounce this ‘Shang Chi’ and the Cantonese say ‘Junk Kay’. It is Chinese chess, played with pretty wooden discs.
**no, I did not pay someone to whack me with a playing card ala jackass… they are pieces of paper intricately cut into pictures.
***guys, I figured it out. “bran card” MUST have meant “bean curd”. I hope it did. I still have no clue about the fish jelly though. Eee.
After we left Emperor Norton’s grave in the beautiful Sunshine Garden (this was on Wednesday, a week and a day and a lifetime ago), we drove into San Francisco. Joe passed through the Mission district, so I could see some of the murals, and I did, but even better, I got to see some concentrated LIFE. We’d been in the hills and the suburbs, so the difference between those places and the Mission district (indeed, all of inner San Francisco) was like the difference between deep open sea and the riot of sheer existence that you get around reefs and thermal spouts. I was so amazed by seeing kosher delis, Asian restaurants, taqueria stands – and so on - altogether on one street. Oh, and every kind of person wearing every sort of style…we are so ‘narrow’ here!
There were antique cars of all sorts, polished to jewel gleam, bikes, motorcycles, skaters, and myriad pedestrians. There was art on every corner, and a jumble of sound and smells. Sam heaven!
We found a good parking spot and only had to walk a few blocks into the heart of Chinatown. My first treat was a small park, built under pagoda arches, and full of older Chinese men playing Xiangqi*. We stood and looked at our guidebooks (yes, we are all huge nerds) and then headed off. We stopped first in this beautiful lantern-hung street to shop for calligraphy. While I waited for my ink to dry I found a small Xiangqi set to make charms for the kids and some beautiful paper-cuts**. When I emerged onto the street, Joe and Ellie said that I could pick the lunch-spot. I’d read in my guidebook about a sort of hidden restaurant that was not frequented by tourists, was one of the best-kept secrets in Chinatown and was located under a Buddhist temple in an alley with some of the most beautifully painted balconies in the district. All true. The ‘Pot Sticker’ was small and very un-“Chinese restaurant”-y. It also looked like it was favored mainly by locals and Chinese folks. They had dim sum on the menu to please Ellie, and the back page was full of enough “gross stuff” to make Joe and I happy.*** We ordered those buns I see in all my favorite movies – and now I see why those guys are always fighting over them. Oh my god! Steamed barbecue pork buns, y’all! mmmMMmMmmM! We had some other dishes, soup, fish, chicken, rice. Everything was very fresh, no msg, not much salt… it was fantastic. And just when I thought it couldn’t get any better, the “Starlite Musical Review” kicked into full swing. A group of older Chinese folks downstairs, in this great little mirrored lounge with a dance floor, were singing karaoke and playing some traditional Chinese instruments along with the cd’s. ‘Chinese opera mainly, but we were also treated to lovely renditions of (turn your volume up!)“Guantanamera" and “Que Sera Sera”. You just had to be there. After we ate, we went downstairs to join them. Joe and Ellie danced, and I tried… they were very nice to us – we “Glamour Gals” and “Handsome Men”. I think Mr. David Lee (on the Gouzhen, ladies and gentlemen!) was preparing an offer of marriage.
After that we had the energy and the spirit to shop to my heart’s content. I bought lots of little prezzies, lanterns, chopsticks – things I would want. I treated myself to a GORGEOUS black silk-velvet mandarin jacket with embroidered red medallions and frogs (reversible with an embroidered plum satin lining) as well as some navy silk mandarin dress-jammies. I went to the Golden Gate Fortune Cookie Factory and into some of the VERY odd apothecaries and teashops. Joe and Ellen were unbelievably patient with me and my shopping. I know that I am loved.
I found one especially wonderful surprise in one of the big touristy shops. All the shops have Bruce mementos of every description, but we turned the corner and Ellie said “Sam! Jet!” and there he was, emblazoned on a silk banner. I went into the shop, and hanging there among the paper dragons, lanterns, lion-heads, coolie hats and Bruce posters, were several Wong Fei Hong and Wushu Kid banners. So what? So has there ever – in the history of American Cinema and its love of Chinese action - been another man worthy to hang beside Bruce? No other martial artist, in all this time has been popular enough to make his way into American hearts and Chinese shops – until Jet Li. I was as proud as a mama bear! Bo may know football, but SAM KNOWS ACTION HOTTIES! J
We slipped into Little Italy for a cappuccino and tiramsu break, and then dipped back into Chinatown for some more shopping and photo ops. I was feeling a little heartbroken about missing the annual lion dance competition that was happening on Saturday, and then just as we were headed down to the wharf, a troupe of young dancers and their lions appeared in the street. The Leung White Cranes, to be precise, and they treated me to pictures and peace signs.
We went to see the Golden Gate Bridge – well, the end of it that wasn’t shrouded in fog. I saw Alcatraz, and a pirate ship. Joe treated us to Irish coffees and then we walked down the street to an excellent seafood place on the docks. A perfect day. Memories of colors and smells and smiles that I hope I will never forget. I wore the necklace that Mrs. Carr gave me, which her husband Joe made. It is made of red and white beads, and a yellow mah jong tile that says “fah”. That means ‘prosperity’. Several of the folks in Chinatown commented on it. I thanked them, and hoped that my smile told them that I was very prosperous indeed.
Much love and fah,
-Sam
p.s. I’m warning y’all, there are buckets of pics on the way to illustrate all of these magic moments! Photo gallery to be updated soon!
*the Mandarins pronounce this ‘Shang Chi’ and the Cantonese say ‘Junk Kay’. It is Chinese chess, played with pretty wooden discs.
**no, I did not pay someone to whack me with a playing card ala jackass… they are pieces of paper intricately cut into pictures.
***guys, I figured it out. “bran card” MUST have meant “bean curd”. I hope it did. I still have no clue about the fish jelly though. Eee.
Friday, July 04, 2003
so.... oh, gosh, before i backtrack to china town, i have to tell you all that WE WON! WE WON!!! OUR FLOAT WON!!!! ok, second... BUT - i don't think they ever had a second place before this year, and it was close enough with the !@#$ mardi-gras, patriotic, love-our-soldiers (really good) float that ALWAYS wins that they had an applause off, and we came in second by a narrow margin! YAY! ellie grinned and had her pic snapped while she accepted the 25$ prize for "Surfin' Safari"! we did joe's landrover up with waves (made of tissue and wrapping paper that i cut) and ocean creatures at the bottom, and animal print covers on the rollbars; we blew up a GIANT rhino photo at kinkos and put him in some jams that i made and ellie colored, and joe made a sheet metal stand thing and then put him on his surfboard on top of the 'rover. we also had a life-sized giraffe head and neck on a stick that we stuck out the window. we had streamers and giant red, white and blue pinwheel wheel covers, and i made a sign for the wheelcover at the back that said "surfin' safari" (ellie and joe are going to laminate it and hang it in their garden. i must say, it is sharp!) we also had throws, candy and toys (safari animals and beach erasers, etc...) and we dressed in hawaiian shirts, bush hats, and r,w&b leis and blared surf-music. we rocked b!@#h socks!!! it was SO much fun!* the people with the REALLY fancy float came up and thanked us for FINALLY giving them a run for their money. they really were pleased. they even asked if we could all take our pics together, flashing our winnings. :)
we also played in the san jose fireman's free shower while kids and adults ran and squealed and got soaked, we ate hot dogs, lolled on the grass, met the neighbors and petted all the dogs. the park was full of happy kids and pretty people, and WE WON! WE WON! WE WON! :D
afterwards we came back and jumped in the pool, napped in the sun, threw some burgers and stuff on the grill... joe and shawn went biking, ellie and i napped on. tonight we'll go downtown to watch the fireworks, and tomorrow, it's monterey.
i am having an unBELIEvably good time. like the BrAndi wedding weekend, it's just been golden. seeing bryan** last night was a bit intimidating before i got there, but then he and sarah made me feel instantly comfortable. she and i dished the girl-dirt on his ex, he let me tell a few mildly emabarassing high school/college tales on him, and then after she left, bryan and i drank a few, and realized that despite ALL the water under the bridge, some things never change. (he's put in a vote for half moon bay, too. :)
ok. i have been on here a bit and the daylight's a-wastin'. :) fear not, i will torture y'all with my fantastic tale of my day in chinatown and down at the wharf ere long. :) i PROMISE you it's not a day that i'll soon forget.
much love,
-sam lee
*i'm genuinely sorry that i had to leave so early, bryan, i could have EASILY stayed up all night and b.s.'ed and drank and caught up with you and sarah and y'all's little m.e.s.s., but as you can see - it was worth it! my little bro shawn rolled in not an hour after you dropped me off and i haven't seen him in EIGHT years... thanks again. we shall NOT wait so long for the next time... :D
**bryan was one of my best friends back in my early days at hnc. during my earliest days at hnc, he was my ONLY friend. i hadn't seen him in maybe, 15 years until last night, when i also got to meet his beatiful and veryvery cool wife and smiley binky baby 'mayzee elizabeth seven supak'. whatta name! whatta binky!
we also played in the san jose fireman's free shower while kids and adults ran and squealed and got soaked, we ate hot dogs, lolled on the grass, met the neighbors and petted all the dogs. the park was full of happy kids and pretty people, and WE WON! WE WON! WE WON! :D
afterwards we came back and jumped in the pool, napped in the sun, threw some burgers and stuff on the grill... joe and shawn went biking, ellie and i napped on. tonight we'll go downtown to watch the fireworks, and tomorrow, it's monterey.
i am having an unBELIEvably good time. like the BrAndi wedding weekend, it's just been golden. seeing bryan** last night was a bit intimidating before i got there, but then he and sarah made me feel instantly comfortable. she and i dished the girl-dirt on his ex, he let me tell a few mildly emabarassing high school/college tales on him, and then after she left, bryan and i drank a few, and realized that despite ALL the water under the bridge, some things never change. (he's put in a vote for half moon bay, too. :)
ok. i have been on here a bit and the daylight's a-wastin'. :) fear not, i will torture y'all with my fantastic tale of my day in chinatown and down at the wharf ere long. :) i PROMISE you it's not a day that i'll soon forget.
much love,
-sam lee
*i'm genuinely sorry that i had to leave so early, bryan, i could have EASILY stayed up all night and b.s.'ed and drank and caught up with you and sarah and y'all's little m.e.s.s., but as you can see - it was worth it! my little bro shawn rolled in not an hour after you dropped me off and i haven't seen him in EIGHT years... thanks again. we shall NOT wait so long for the next time... :D
**bryan was one of my best friends back in my early days at hnc. during my earliest days at hnc, he was my ONLY friend. i hadn't seen him in maybe, 15 years until last night, when i also got to meet his beatiful and veryvery cool wife and smiley binky baby 'mayzee elizabeth seven supak'. whatta name! whatta binky!
Thursday, July 03, 2003
well, i didn't stay... but i think i COULD. *sigh...* :)
for all my expectations, you'd think it would be easy for me to be disappointed, but the universe is continually like a sweet grandmother, who, when i am sincere and simple in my desires, turns and opens up her purse full of coins and sweets to me. she was very generous in her gifts to me yesterday.
we drove in, stopped at emperor norton's grave on the way. wandering through this big sunny cemetary, full of stones that looked like asian art unto themselves was such a strangely lovely and surreal experience. the "sunshine garden" at woodlawn is mostly asian families, whose tombstones are as elaborate and beautiful as everything else they do. seeing row upon row of stones carved with chinese letters, all simple colors, red, white, black, grey, and always happy smiling photos of the people there. it did not seem, well, grave at all. it seemed to make you understand the whole idea of "monument".
among the chinese families were also small groups of russians, italians, jewish folks, hispanics, and europeans. not a "smith" or a "jones" to be seen though.
we wandered, following a map i'd found, looking, commenting, and then ellen (who is THE navigator* - she found EVERYTHING we were looking for AND silk hangings of jet li! :) yelled "I FOUND IT!" she had first found the empresses grave, the first baron's was right beside, and emperor norton's was there behind them. we knew we had the right place without a doubt from the very odd collection of little offerings there. i drew 'death' and wrote a little thank you for inspiring weirdos the world over. took some pics of the other love offerings. joe did a grave rubbing on the back of my map (that's my bro :) and lit a stick of incense he'd pirated (ditto last parenthetical statement)
and then we headed into the city...
to be continued!
-s
*joe said he was the pilot and i was the flight engineer. :)
for all my expectations, you'd think it would be easy for me to be disappointed, but the universe is continually like a sweet grandmother, who, when i am sincere and simple in my desires, turns and opens up her purse full of coins and sweets to me. she was very generous in her gifts to me yesterday.
we drove in, stopped at emperor norton's grave on the way. wandering through this big sunny cemetary, full of stones that looked like asian art unto themselves was such a strangely lovely and surreal experience. the "sunshine garden" at woodlawn is mostly asian families, whose tombstones are as elaborate and beautiful as everything else they do. seeing row upon row of stones carved with chinese letters, all simple colors, red, white, black, grey, and always happy smiling photos of the people there. it did not seem, well, grave at all. it seemed to make you understand the whole idea of "monument".
among the chinese families were also small groups of russians, italians, jewish folks, hispanics, and europeans. not a "smith" or a "jones" to be seen though.
we wandered, following a map i'd found, looking, commenting, and then ellen (who is THE navigator* - she found EVERYTHING we were looking for AND silk hangings of jet li! :) yelled "I FOUND IT!" she had first found the empresses grave, the first baron's was right beside, and emperor norton's was there behind them. we knew we had the right place without a doubt from the very odd collection of little offerings there. i drew 'death' and wrote a little thank you for inspiring weirdos the world over. took some pics of the other love offerings. joe did a grave rubbing on the back of my map (that's my bro :) and lit a stick of incense he'd pirated (ditto last parenthetical statement)
and then we headed into the city...
to be continued!
-s
*joe said he was the pilot and i was the flight engineer. :)
Wednesday, July 02, 2003
all hail google. here is the official site for the new guinea sculpture garden, with lots of pictures, and the story of it's creation. the pictures cannot do the strange magical aura of this small park justice, but what the photos of the art can't convey, the photos of the artists can. i do really hope that the picture of these wizened and exotic men in, yes, las vegas, is somewhere on the site. ellie made a very apt statement when she said that taking these native artists fron the villages of papua into las vegas was a cruel thing to do, but it does make for a very interesting snapshot.
btw, joe found a crow feather in the middle of the glade and gave it to me, and later, there was a Miracle of the Tiki God in the back yard while i was swimming alone... oooOooOoooOOoEeeeeEEEeeeeeooOOoOOoo... i found a drowned honeybee, and when i pulled it out the water, it wiggled a little. i tried for an hour to revive it, put it on a bloom, in the sun, blew on it to dry it, but if i left it alone too long, it sopped breathing. finally, the sun was goig down, and i thought it wouldn't make it, so i put the bloom between the feet of them main tiki god - joe and ellie got them from an artist they know in hawaii - and got in the hot tub. i started thinking about that garden, and feeling kind of haunted - not bad, just more than the usual amount of thaums* in the air, and so i slipped back into the pool to have alast look at the bee. as i arrived, he walked to the edge of the tiki's toes (he had not oved on his own the entire time, and had stopped breathing when i out him there, i thought to die) and fell off onto his back. i turned him over, he climbed back up the base to the big toe, vibrated like mad, and flew off. he circled the tiki (god mauna, joe says) circled the pool, and then flew off, literally into the sunset.
:)
i am going to buy a mini bottle of kahlua for old mauna out there. :)
so, we went to dinner after tennis and swim. "wasabi" was the place. mmmm.
and then home and harry potter and sleep.
today is CHINA TOWN!!!!! and also the asian art museum. it's new. joe said we'll stay late in the city and have dinner, so it should be a great day. i think we'll stop in at the cemetary at colma on the way, and visit emperor norton's grave.
well, i need to get dressed. early start on the day.
i will tell about our parade theme on the next episode of
SAM LOVELACE, INTREPID TRAVELER!
p.s. if i don't come back from china town, divide up my stuff and feed the dog. maybe you'll see me in a chop socky flick someday... ;)
*ask a pratchett fan.
btw, joe found a crow feather in the middle of the glade and gave it to me, and later, there was a Miracle of the Tiki God in the back yard while i was swimming alone... oooOooOoooOOoEeeeeEEEeeeeeooOOoOOoo... i found a drowned honeybee, and when i pulled it out the water, it wiggled a little. i tried for an hour to revive it, put it on a bloom, in the sun, blew on it to dry it, but if i left it alone too long, it sopped breathing. finally, the sun was goig down, and i thought it wouldn't make it, so i put the bloom between the feet of them main tiki god - joe and ellie got them from an artist they know in hawaii - and got in the hot tub. i started thinking about that garden, and feeling kind of haunted - not bad, just more than the usual amount of thaums* in the air, and so i slipped back into the pool to have alast look at the bee. as i arrived, he walked to the edge of the tiki's toes (he had not oved on his own the entire time, and had stopped breathing when i out him there, i thought to die) and fell off onto his back. i turned him over, he climbed back up the base to the big toe, vibrated like mad, and flew off. he circled the tiki (god mauna, joe says) circled the pool, and then flew off, literally into the sunset.
:)
i am going to buy a mini bottle of kahlua for old mauna out there. :)
so, we went to dinner after tennis and swim. "wasabi" was the place. mmmm.
and then home and harry potter and sleep.
today is CHINA TOWN!!!!! and also the asian art museum. it's new. joe said we'll stay late in the city and have dinner, so it should be a great day. i think we'll stop in at the cemetary at colma on the way, and visit emperor norton's grave.
well, i need to get dressed. early start on the day.
i will tell about our parade theme on the next episode of
SAM LOVELACE, INTREPID TRAVELER!
p.s. if i don't come back from china town, divide up my stuff and feed the dog. maybe you'll see me in a chop socky flick someday... ;)
*ask a pratchett fan.
Tuesday, July 01, 2003
well, today (so far) i've been treated to a long drive that wandered through the golden hills and redwood forest, down to the pacific ocean, 'pescadero', to be precise. i waded in tide pools and molested starfish, there were anemonemonenemes and little crabs and sea urchins and teeny fish, and the backdrop to all of this, the rushing sea on a gorgeous clear day - there was fog, but it was held back in a giant wall, miles out to shore, as if it was waiting for its cue... there was an isle of cormorants, joe and i clambered over rocks and looked at every little thing. strange flowers are blooming everywhere, bright colors, red, orange, yellow, gold, and odd new smells, manzanita, jasmine, eucalyptus, redwood and strong salt sea. it is a kind of heaven. to see both mountains AND open skies, rolling hills AND ocean, giant trees in deep dark quiet grottoes and huge golden meadows, all in one hour's journey. i filled my pockets with pretty stones and shells and bits of driftwood, and my head and heart with memories, and then we headed on to half moon bay - a little town that looks sculpted, terra cotta, lemon trees, and pretty shops. it also hosts the pumpkin festival every year! :) the oean, moons, and pumpkins - oh, and the terra cotta is all pink or periwinkle, and there are little mosaics on the park walls, btw... sounds like a place i could fit in...
*sigh*
from there, we headed on to lunch with ellie. we had a great lunch - and DESERT FEST! and then i perused the rodin garden and THE NEW GUINEA SCULPTURE GARDEN (both on the stanford campus. GORGEOUS.) i will tell all about the new guinea sculpture garden later, it deserves a rant of it's own. i will include the other mystical details of the day, too. :)
oh - and we have a theme for our parade float!
details to come soon!
much love,
-sambolina of the rocks
*sigh*
from there, we headed on to lunch with ellie. we had a great lunch - and DESERT FEST! and then i perused the rodin garden and THE NEW GUINEA SCULPTURE GARDEN (both on the stanford campus. GORGEOUS.) i will tell all about the new guinea sculpture garden later, it deserves a rant of it's own. i will include the other mystical details of the day, too. :)
oh - and we have a theme for our parade float!
details to come soon!
much love,
-sambolina of the rocks
Monday, June 30, 2003
i made it! i'm here in sunny california! and it really is sunny (and about 75 degrees!) there are palm trees EVERYWHERE, and sexy cholos in nice old cars... :D yay, ME! i've only been here at joe and ellies' for minutes, and joe's already firing up the grill, ellie has given me the tour, and then shown me to her office so i could post a quickie. life is good.
the flight was -eventful. just as we were preparing to board flight attempt #1 (at o'hare. me and o'hare seem to have issues...) they announced that there was a leak around the door, thus possible AIR PRESSURE PROBLEMS (!). I announced that i had duct tape in my bag, but they switched our flight ANYway. we boarded our next flight, those of us going to san jose as well as some folks continuing on to (*sigh*) maui... then after we were all boarded, they figured out that the plane we were on wouldn't MAKE IT ACROSS THE PACIFIC (!!!) so we had to switch AGAIN. no one lost their temper, heck, most of 'em were headed to hawaii, anyway. what's another couple of hours. we joked and laughed and massaged each other at brookstone. they also gave us a free movie on our third and final flight, so i got to see "daredevil" for free*.
so, i'm here now. safe and sound. my brother is plotting our adventures for the week, his gorgeous wife has granted me the honor of figuring out how to decorate joe's antique landrover for the 4th of july parade in their neighborhood...
and now it's just about time for dinner, a little soak in the hot tub, a dip in the pool and a beer.
did i say life was good?
much love,
-sam the tourist
*which was the only way i was willing to see it, so, nice. :) btw. it was actually pretty good. i just HATE the fact that ben !@#$ affleck is SO !@#$ hot. it makes it REALLY hard to hate him as much as i do, sometimes.
the flight was -eventful. just as we were preparing to board flight attempt #1 (at o'hare. me and o'hare seem to have issues...) they announced that there was a leak around the door, thus possible AIR PRESSURE PROBLEMS (!). I announced that i had duct tape in my bag, but they switched our flight ANYway. we boarded our next flight, those of us going to san jose as well as some folks continuing on to (*sigh*) maui... then after we were all boarded, they figured out that the plane we were on wouldn't MAKE IT ACROSS THE PACIFIC (!!!) so we had to switch AGAIN. no one lost their temper, heck, most of 'em were headed to hawaii, anyway. what's another couple of hours. we joked and laughed and massaged each other at brookstone. they also gave us a free movie on our third and final flight, so i got to see "daredevil" for free*.
so, i'm here now. safe and sound. my brother is plotting our adventures for the week, his gorgeous wife has granted me the honor of figuring out how to decorate joe's antique landrover for the 4th of july parade in their neighborhood...
and now it's just about time for dinner, a little soak in the hot tub, a dip in the pool and a beer.
did i say life was good?
much love,
-sam the tourist
*which was the only way i was willing to see it, so, nice. :) btw. it was actually pretty good. i just HATE the fact that ben !@#$ affleck is SO !@#$ hot. it makes it REALLY hard to hate him as much as i do, sometimes.
Saturday, June 28, 2003
fifty-five minutes. 55 minutes.
fifty and five. 30 and 25. five times eleven.
CALGON TAKE ME AWAY!!!
these kids are makin' me nuts, despite my iron rule today, they have come in with !@#$ WALKIE TALKIES, two little beasts - after my getting onto them a DOZEN TIMES about the noise - used MY markers and paper to make signs that said "HONK IF YOU LOVE PEACE AND QUIET!" - which i figured out after i heard continuous honking and looked out to see them holding up the signs.
GRR.
this HAS to be true love, because it DAMNED sure ain't great pay and benefits.
can you tell i need a vacation?
50 minutes. and then a day of packing and cleaning (and a bbq @ chez goree) and then
I CAN BE ANOTHER SAM FOR A WHOLE WEEK!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
if i don't come back, i KNOW y'all will understand! (i'll at least come back to get my dog, my photo albums, do my photo shoots, and to have a big ole' goin' away bash!)
much love,
-sam
p.s. my OWN bad "child" JUMPED THROUGH THE WINDOW SCREEN, GOT IN A FIGHT AND BIT ONE OF MY NEIGHBOR'S WEDDING GUESTS ON THE HAND yesterday.
like mother, like daughter. *sigh*
fifty and five. 30 and 25. five times eleven.
CALGON TAKE ME AWAY!!!
these kids are makin' me nuts, despite my iron rule today, they have come in with !@#$ WALKIE TALKIES, two little beasts - after my getting onto them a DOZEN TIMES about the noise - used MY markers and paper to make signs that said "HONK IF YOU LOVE PEACE AND QUIET!" - which i figured out after i heard continuous honking and looked out to see them holding up the signs.
GRR.
this HAS to be true love, because it DAMNED sure ain't great pay and benefits.
can you tell i need a vacation?
50 minutes. and then a day of packing and cleaning (and a bbq @ chez goree) and then
I CAN BE ANOTHER SAM FOR A WHOLE WEEK!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
if i don't come back, i KNOW y'all will understand! (i'll at least come back to get my dog, my photo albums, do my photo shoots, and to have a big ole' goin' away bash!)
much love,
-sam
p.s. my OWN bad "child" JUMPED THROUGH THE WINDOW SCREEN, GOT IN A FIGHT AND BIT ONE OF MY NEIGHBOR'S WEDDING GUESTS ON THE HAND yesterday.
like mother, like daughter. *sigh*
Friday, June 27, 2003
well, folks... i have a BAD case of "pre-vacation-itis". like kids the week before school's out. i just don't CARE! i wanna GO! my attention is wandering, i'm in a daze... staring out the window... my temper is even shorter than usual (eek!). i just want People* to leave me alone, and i want to get the !@#$ OUTTAHERE! i still have lots to do, but it's manageable. i've taken care of the "serious" details - work stuff, lulie, mail, $$$. i need to finish cleaning the house, i have to pack, and then "CALIFORNIA, HERE I COME...!"
i love to go to new places. i think i'd rather travel than almost anything besides swim and eat... and traveling to new places to swim and eat is just the donkey's knob! i have been out to san jose and the bay area before, many moons ago, to visit a friend. that was a great trip, too. but to see it through my brother's eyes, and to be old enough to wander on my own a bit, if i want to. that will be nice.
i've been having a bit of a... not really an 'existential crisis' - i don't have those. maybe a 'directional crisis' lately. it's not that i have no direction, it's that i'm being dragged along in a big ships' wake and i want to break free and swim on my own. mortality is really looming over me, i am becoming very aware of just how little time i really have left to explore this ball of mud. last night i dreamed** that i was dead and still walking around. i kept trying to explain to my friends that i was ok, i was just dead. and i was trying to be REALLY careful and not damage myself, because i knew that my body couldn't recover from the damage. hm. doesn't take an 80$-an-hour shrink to figure THAT one out.
i am also aware that i am at a very bad age and stage of sam-ness to be kow-towing to a thoughtless, inconsiderate government REGIME*** that is slowly but surely chipping away my rights one by one. i don't think any of you really have any idea what that does to my soul and my disposition**** to have to live with this feeling, to know what i am sacrificing every minute of every day for the sake of so-!@#$-called "security". will i wake up one day with a bad back, carpal tunnel syndrome, 25 years in the same @$$-kissing position and not even a !@#$ christmas bonus to show for it? not "no", but HELL no! this bobcat is tired of mindlessly pacing the fence. she is now looking for a way OUT.
OUT!
OUT!
and for now, the end of this day, i am outtie. and then one more day, and i am outtie for a whole WEEK!
how pathetic is it that i am so excited about one week of freedom? that's like fire being happy about it's seven seconds on the head of a match.
much love, and more anger,
-your sam
*not my friends, but People, with a capital P. grr... raaar!
**this was AFTER the weird dream about the twin jackie chans, one good one evil, stuck in a room fighting over a set of keys, and before the dream of the art deadline from hell. i woke UP tired this morning.
***don't even get me !@#$ STARTED!!!
****ESPECIALLY those of you who THINK you know.
i love to go to new places. i think i'd rather travel than almost anything besides swim and eat... and traveling to new places to swim and eat is just the donkey's knob! i have been out to san jose and the bay area before, many moons ago, to visit a friend. that was a great trip, too. but to see it through my brother's eyes, and to be old enough to wander on my own a bit, if i want to. that will be nice.
i've been having a bit of a... not really an 'existential crisis' - i don't have those. maybe a 'directional crisis' lately. it's not that i have no direction, it's that i'm being dragged along in a big ships' wake and i want to break free and swim on my own. mortality is really looming over me, i am becoming very aware of just how little time i really have left to explore this ball of mud. last night i dreamed** that i was dead and still walking around. i kept trying to explain to my friends that i was ok, i was just dead. and i was trying to be REALLY careful and not damage myself, because i knew that my body couldn't recover from the damage. hm. doesn't take an 80$-an-hour shrink to figure THAT one out.
i am also aware that i am at a very bad age and stage of sam-ness to be kow-towing to a thoughtless, inconsiderate government REGIME*** that is slowly but surely chipping away my rights one by one. i don't think any of you really have any idea what that does to my soul and my disposition**** to have to live with this feeling, to know what i am sacrificing every minute of every day for the sake of so-!@#$-called "security". will i wake up one day with a bad back, carpal tunnel syndrome, 25 years in the same @$$-kissing position and not even a !@#$ christmas bonus to show for it? not "no", but HELL no! this bobcat is tired of mindlessly pacing the fence. she is now looking for a way OUT.
OUT!
OUT!
and for now, the end of this day, i am outtie. and then one more day, and i am outtie for a whole WEEK!
how pathetic is it that i am so excited about one week of freedom? that's like fire being happy about it's seven seconds on the head of a match.
much love, and more anger,
-your sam
*not my friends, but People, with a capital P. grr... raaar!
**this was AFTER the weird dream about the twin jackie chans, one good one evil, stuck in a room fighting over a set of keys, and before the dream of the art deadline from hell. i woke UP tired this morning.
***don't even get me !@#$ STARTED!!!
****ESPECIALLY those of you who THINK you know.
Sunday, June 22, 2003
hello, lads and lasses,
i apologize for not posting as frequently as i otta these days. i know y'all like to come here and read and feel how normal your lives are in comparison to the oft-ridiculous circ du soleil-moon-frye that is my life, but i have been very busy! i've had an intern, a couple of new volunteers and a million out-of-school kids around the libob lately, and i am taking the opportunity to get LOTS done - yay, us!* plus i am trying to get ready for my big trip to CALIFORNIA! wheeeeee! planning, packing, selling my services for souvenir bucks, and then the usual sam-stuff. no problemo. i do know that by the time i leave i will have EARNED a nice vacation, and i am DEFINITELY ready for it! i do think joe and ellie (my bro and sis-in-law) have the 'net at home, so hopefully i will be able to blog some while i am there. i will try to keep y'all posted on the adventures of sam and clan in cali!
as most of you know, i am planning a visit to (!!!) china town... :D :D :D and i will try to get out to emperor norton's grave, and of course, the monterey bay aquarium.** best of all, i will see my brothers - one of whom i haven't seen in maybe eight years. when i last saw him face to face, he was just a teenager. but i saw a picture of him recently and he's this giant brawny bloke now. he looks like The Rock, Jr.! :) i promise to take lots of pics!
in local news (and speaking of brawny blokes) the june wedding fairies continue to bestow blessing upon me. my new neighbors, across the street (in william's old place, jams) are working furiously to get the old place in shape in time for their reception on friday, and they have hired a whole passle of young, good looking guys who NATURALLY can't work in the hot sun with all their clothes on. *sigh*. my beloved dog is SO well trained, too. she is always running over there, so i have to go and claim her. dang. :D they are so sweet, too. they even offered to come and mow my lawn. awwww. :D :D :D
so, life is good. and busy busy. my house is a MISERABLE WRECK - but i am TRYING to get it in shape before i leave. the yard is a night mare, but, que sera sera. i joined a new gym on monday, and so far, i am loving it. no men, no mirrors***, and a very simple routine to follow, almost like having a personal trainer with you. you only have to do 30 minutes, 3 times a week (minimum) i set a goal to lose 55 pounds. there is one lady there who has lost 110 so far. oh, AND it's VERY reasonably priced. 29$ to join, 29$ a month. wish me luck. i go back for my second tonight after work.
i will try to keep y'all posted. oh - and send me happy FLYING thoughts (augh!)
xoxox
-s
*boo, my back! :)
**DO check out their awesome webcams!
***no stupid girls in thongs and ten pounds of make-up, EITHER.
i apologize for not posting as frequently as i otta these days. i know y'all like to come here and read and feel how normal your lives are in comparison to the oft-ridiculous circ du soleil-moon-frye that is my life, but i have been very busy! i've had an intern, a couple of new volunteers and a million out-of-school kids around the libob lately, and i am taking the opportunity to get LOTS done - yay, us!* plus i am trying to get ready for my big trip to CALIFORNIA! wheeeeee! planning, packing, selling my services for souvenir bucks, and then the usual sam-stuff. no problemo. i do know that by the time i leave i will have EARNED a nice vacation, and i am DEFINITELY ready for it! i do think joe and ellie (my bro and sis-in-law) have the 'net at home, so hopefully i will be able to blog some while i am there. i will try to keep y'all posted on the adventures of sam and clan in cali!
as most of you know, i am planning a visit to (!!!) china town... :D :D :D and i will try to get out to emperor norton's grave, and of course, the monterey bay aquarium.** best of all, i will see my brothers - one of whom i haven't seen in maybe eight years. when i last saw him face to face, he was just a teenager. but i saw a picture of him recently and he's this giant brawny bloke now. he looks like The Rock, Jr.! :) i promise to take lots of pics!
in local news (and speaking of brawny blokes) the june wedding fairies continue to bestow blessing upon me. my new neighbors, across the street (in william's old place, jams) are working furiously to get the old place in shape in time for their reception on friday, and they have hired a whole passle of young, good looking guys who NATURALLY can't work in the hot sun with all their clothes on. *sigh*. my beloved dog is SO well trained, too. she is always running over there, so i have to go and claim her. dang. :D they are so sweet, too. they even offered to come and mow my lawn. awwww. :D :D :D
so, life is good. and busy busy. my house is a MISERABLE WRECK - but i am TRYING to get it in shape before i leave. the yard is a night mare, but, que sera sera. i joined a new gym on monday, and so far, i am loving it. no men, no mirrors***, and a very simple routine to follow, almost like having a personal trainer with you. you only have to do 30 minutes, 3 times a week (minimum) i set a goal to lose 55 pounds. there is one lady there who has lost 110 so far. oh, AND it's VERY reasonably priced. 29$ to join, 29$ a month. wish me luck. i go back for my second tonight after work.
i will try to keep y'all posted. oh - and send me happy FLYING thoughts (augh!)
xoxox
-s
*boo, my back! :)
**DO check out their awesome webcams!
***no stupid girls in thongs and ten pounds of make-up, EITHER.
Thursday, June 19, 2003
The weekend started off with a lovely road-trip. Stewart drove, Hamilton rode shotgun, and I napped and watched the scenery go by, and we all listened to “Reaper Man” on tape. We took the small back highways, #9 a lot of the way. Stopped and looked up a bronze Scotsman’s kilt at Hamilton’s alma mater (St. Andrews), ate at “Subs and Cream” – took our time.
We arrived late that afternoon, claimed beds (I got the same one I had last year – next to the window, facing the dock) and then we IMMEDIATELY went swimming! Woohoo! By the time we got out of the water, other folks had started arriving. Not long after that, we got the blender going, and then it was just GeekFest 2003! We sat around and “jawed” and laughed and b.s.’ed, and then everybody turned in to get some sleep before the Big Day.
The next morning came, and the weather looked as if it had been ordered with the cake. I slept with my head at the foot of my bed, next to the window and awoke to cerulean sky filled with fat white clouds, and just enough breeze. We all ambled up to the Doarway for pancakes and bacon, and then went for showers. No one had to rush, and we all made it in plenty of time. I rode with Lisa and Wendi to the beach, ogling hotties fishing below the drawbridge and looking forward to all the surprises the day had to offer. We found a good parking spot, just yards from the boardwalk.
When we got there, people were already gathering. By the time we (the photographers) had picked the spot, Brian came strolling down the beach, all golden curls and halogen grin in his khaki kilt and white shirt - he was GORGEOUS! He was greeted by circles of hugs and pats on the back, and then amidst the congratulations, someone said “Here she comes!” We all turned, and were greeted by a vision that I will never forget*.
As Andi came down the boardwalk, it was like an eclipse of the sun. I thought there could be nothing in the world more radiant – until I turned to look at Brian, watching her come toward us. She was wearing a white gauze dress, sleeveless and sheer, her feet were bare and brown, her auburn hair shimmering with sunlight. She had on a little circlet of flowers, with a very simple veil at the back, but everything, all of it, paled in comparison to the glowing beauty of her face. I do not exaggerate – as anyone there can verify. She looked like an angel**, her smile was incomparable, unforgettable.
The ceremony started, with Xavier as the acting minister***. Andi’s dad read a poem, and the vows were sweet, simple – and quick. I could tell that they meant them, too - ok, except maybe that part about the Mormons... and we were all reminded that a big church and a satin dress and a 15,000$ reception does NOT necessarily = twue wuv.
After the wedding (and the kazoo-march and lots of happy tears and bubbles), we all got into our swimwear and played on the beach for a few hours. (I did a commemorative sand-sculpture. Pics of ALL of this soon, folks, I promise!)
After the beach, we all wandered back to the Doarway. Some napped, some started working on the food for the reception, and some made some FABulous tea… I got ALL the ladies glittered up, Elizabeth manned the blender, and At around 4:00, the yard started filling up with beaus and belles.
There was MUCHO seafood on to boil, there was a johnboat full of coolers, laden with ice and beer and sodas. People mingled and chattered, and then Buffy called for toasts. The dads did their thing – more tears were shed, and then Buffy brought out the quilt we’d all made.**** That evoked the worst – but thankfully LAST of the serious waterworks for the weekend - and finished the toasts, 'cause Pam said NObody could follow THAT act! Then someone yelled “FOOD’S READY!” and the hoe-down began!
We ate and drank and made veryvery merry. The Whiskey Sisters sang a few, Mike picked the gee-tar, Hamilton rocked the flute, I even played a bit o’ bad kazoo. People sat on the grass and sang along… and then, when the full moon began to rise, we all meandered down to the dock for a bit of moonlight skinny-dipping! Woohoo! Later, while I was working in the kitchen, Will came and gave me a big skwunch. He said that I was officially a cousin now. (MOO!) I thought it was because I’d been there twice, and was helping to clean, but it turns out that it was because I’d made it an Official Weekend by initiating the drunken skinny-dip. Yay, me!
After the swim, we headed back up and began the big clean up. It was just like the rest of the day, though. A joy to be there, to be together, to be helping – we pretty much literally whistled while we worked. After the clean-up, we peeled out some shrimp and made other plans for breakfast, then we slowly wound our way into bed.
Most of us were up pretty early(!), made a store run and started breakfast. Will and I whipped up a batch of shrimp (SKRUMP!) and grits, Buffy cut cantaloupe and got some coffee going. Breakfast was good, and so was the company. Everybody reviewed the weekends’ highlights and told party-tales, and then we started dividing up the work roster and went off to pack.
No one wanted to leave – who would? The weekend, the wedding had all been golden and perfect. No more than Our Bribro and Andi (BrAndi) deserve. We – the ladies circle – debated shuffling the boys around in cars and sending them on ahead so that we could linger longer, but I think we all knew at the back of our minds that if we stayed we might be tempted to get jobs as waitresses and just live on the beach.
Sigh.
So, we packed up, hugs all ‘round, and the traditional Doarway song to send us off…
The road trip home was pleasant. Watching the highway roll up from flat and open back to hills and the sky close in on itself was the worst heartbreak I’d had in days… We finished “Reaper Man”, had some good conversation. Stopped at “SOUTH OF THE BORDER” (I bought a satin Chinese hat) and for photos at a day-lily farm. I think we were all reluctant to return to the “real world”…
Andi and Brian thanked us again and again for coming, for our help, for the gifts. But I think WE got the best present of all from them. A perfect, happy weekend, all together. Laughs and food and happy tears, good weather, sand, surf, company, and the chance to be witness to a truly good thing.
Thank you, and Goddess bless you. May we all get together like this, for manymanymany years to come.
-s
p.s. there were a couple of folks who should have been there, but just couldn’t. you were missed, but I PROMISE you were well represented!
*I am getting a bit teary just remembering!
**admittedly, one who knows how to have FUN!
***I am STILL trying to process the reality of THAT! :D
****AND kept secret! QUILT! QUILT! QUILT! QUILT! I can finally say it! QUILT!
We arrived late that afternoon, claimed beds (I got the same one I had last year – next to the window, facing the dock) and then we IMMEDIATELY went swimming! Woohoo! By the time we got out of the water, other folks had started arriving. Not long after that, we got the blender going, and then it was just GeekFest 2003! We sat around and “jawed” and laughed and b.s.’ed, and then everybody turned in to get some sleep before the Big Day.
The next morning came, and the weather looked as if it had been ordered with the cake. I slept with my head at the foot of my bed, next to the window and awoke to cerulean sky filled with fat white clouds, and just enough breeze. We all ambled up to the Doarway for pancakes and bacon, and then went for showers. No one had to rush, and we all made it in plenty of time. I rode with Lisa and Wendi to the beach, ogling hotties fishing below the drawbridge and looking forward to all the surprises the day had to offer. We found a good parking spot, just yards from the boardwalk.
When we got there, people were already gathering. By the time we (the photographers) had picked the spot, Brian came strolling down the beach, all golden curls and halogen grin in his khaki kilt and white shirt - he was GORGEOUS! He was greeted by circles of hugs and pats on the back, and then amidst the congratulations, someone said “Here she comes!” We all turned, and were greeted by a vision that I will never forget*.
As Andi came down the boardwalk, it was like an eclipse of the sun. I thought there could be nothing in the world more radiant – until I turned to look at Brian, watching her come toward us. She was wearing a white gauze dress, sleeveless and sheer, her feet were bare and brown, her auburn hair shimmering with sunlight. She had on a little circlet of flowers, with a very simple veil at the back, but everything, all of it, paled in comparison to the glowing beauty of her face. I do not exaggerate – as anyone there can verify. She looked like an angel**, her smile was incomparable, unforgettable.
The ceremony started, with Xavier as the acting minister***. Andi’s dad read a poem, and the vows were sweet, simple – and quick. I could tell that they meant them, too - ok, except maybe that part about the Mormons... and we were all reminded that a big church and a satin dress and a 15,000$ reception does NOT necessarily = twue wuv.
After the wedding (and the kazoo-march and lots of happy tears and bubbles), we all got into our swimwear and played on the beach for a few hours. (I did a commemorative sand-sculpture. Pics of ALL of this soon, folks, I promise!)
After the beach, we all wandered back to the Doarway. Some napped, some started working on the food for the reception, and some made some FABulous tea… I got ALL the ladies glittered up, Elizabeth manned the blender, and At around 4:00, the yard started filling up with beaus and belles.
There was MUCHO seafood on to boil, there was a johnboat full of coolers, laden with ice and beer and sodas. People mingled and chattered, and then Buffy called for toasts. The dads did their thing – more tears were shed, and then Buffy brought out the quilt we’d all made.**** That evoked the worst – but thankfully LAST of the serious waterworks for the weekend - and finished the toasts, 'cause Pam said NObody could follow THAT act! Then someone yelled “FOOD’S READY!” and the hoe-down began!
We ate and drank and made veryvery merry. The Whiskey Sisters sang a few, Mike picked the gee-tar, Hamilton rocked the flute, I even played a bit o’ bad kazoo. People sat on the grass and sang along… and then, when the full moon began to rise, we all meandered down to the dock for a bit of moonlight skinny-dipping! Woohoo! Later, while I was working in the kitchen, Will came and gave me a big skwunch. He said that I was officially a cousin now. (MOO!) I thought it was because I’d been there twice, and was helping to clean, but it turns out that it was because I’d made it an Official Weekend by initiating the drunken skinny-dip. Yay, me!
After the swim, we headed back up and began the big clean up. It was just like the rest of the day, though. A joy to be there, to be together, to be helping – we pretty much literally whistled while we worked. After the clean-up, we peeled out some shrimp and made other plans for breakfast, then we slowly wound our way into bed.
Most of us were up pretty early(!), made a store run and started breakfast. Will and I whipped up a batch of shrimp (SKRUMP!) and grits, Buffy cut cantaloupe and got some coffee going. Breakfast was good, and so was the company. Everybody reviewed the weekends’ highlights and told party-tales, and then we started dividing up the work roster and went off to pack.
No one wanted to leave – who would? The weekend, the wedding had all been golden and perfect. No more than Our Bribro and Andi (BrAndi) deserve. We – the ladies circle – debated shuffling the boys around in cars and sending them on ahead so that we could linger longer, but I think we all knew at the back of our minds that if we stayed we might be tempted to get jobs as waitresses and just live on the beach.
Sigh.
So, we packed up, hugs all ‘round, and the traditional Doarway song to send us off…
The road trip home was pleasant. Watching the highway roll up from flat and open back to hills and the sky close in on itself was the worst heartbreak I’d had in days… We finished “Reaper Man”, had some good conversation. Stopped at “SOUTH OF THE BORDER” (I bought a satin Chinese hat) and for photos at a day-lily farm. I think we were all reluctant to return to the “real world”…
Andi and Brian thanked us again and again for coming, for our help, for the gifts. But I think WE got the best present of all from them. A perfect, happy weekend, all together. Laughs and food and happy tears, good weather, sand, surf, company, and the chance to be witness to a truly good thing.
Thank you, and Goddess bless you. May we all get together like this, for manymanymany years to come.
-s
p.s. there were a couple of folks who should have been there, but just couldn’t. you were missed, but I PROMISE you were well represented!
*I am getting a bit teary just remembering!
**admittedly, one who knows how to have FUN!
***I am STILL trying to process the reality of THAT! :D
****AND kept secret! QUILT! QUILT! QUILT! QUILT! I can finally say it! QUILT!
Tuesday, June 17, 2003
Ok, I know you all want to hear about my fabulous weekend at the most wonderful, perfect wedding I have EVER attended - and fear not, I will tell all - but first, I must amend a TERRIBLE oversight.
I was SO excited about my trip that I forgot what June 12 was, in the "real" non-sun/sand/surf world of Sam and Saluda...
You see, Once Upon a Time, there was this boy*, a boy that I loved to the point of stupidity, but hey, what’s love all about if not giving in to a little stupidity sometimes, y’know? He was one Helluva a boy, and damned near a match for me – and that’s sayin’ something. Things didn’t work out, but that seems to be the fate of my Things anyway, so no SERIOUS biggie, but for a while there, it seemed like they might. It definitely seemed like we – and quite a few others - wanted them to. That’s sayin’ something, too. The simple fact that they DIDN’T work out (and rather dramatically, I might add) and yet we are still friends and still concerned for one another says the most of all.
So today not long after I hauled my sunburned heiney into work, I get a semi-sad call from said boy reminding me that what I’d forgotten in my excited rant on Thursday was that it was his birthday!
I told him that, at thirty(gasp!) NINE(!) you’d think you’d WANT people to forget ;) but I was really touched that he didn’t want ME to forget, and most of all that he reads my rants.
I know you SAID you didn’t want belated wishes here Red, but you deserve them. You are – and will always be – veryvery close to my heart**. Happy birthday (to you and your girlbaby). I wish you all many more good years and happy times.
And thank you for reading and reminding.
MUCH love,
-s
p.s. did anybody remember to get you cherries?
*"a very strange, enchanted boy…"
- and don't go givin' me !@#$ about saying "boy", red - you KNOW what I mean! :)
**even if you are WAAAAAAAY too old for me now! Hahahaha! ;D
I was SO excited about my trip that I forgot what June 12 was, in the "real" non-sun/sand/surf world of Sam and Saluda...
You see, Once Upon a Time, there was this boy*, a boy that I loved to the point of stupidity, but hey, what’s love all about if not giving in to a little stupidity sometimes, y’know? He was one Helluva a boy, and damned near a match for me – and that’s sayin’ something. Things didn’t work out, but that seems to be the fate of my Things anyway, so no SERIOUS biggie, but for a while there, it seemed like they might. It definitely seemed like we – and quite a few others - wanted them to. That’s sayin’ something, too. The simple fact that they DIDN’T work out (and rather dramatically, I might add) and yet we are still friends and still concerned for one another says the most of all.
So today not long after I hauled my sunburned heiney into work, I get a semi-sad call from said boy reminding me that what I’d forgotten in my excited rant on Thursday was that it was his birthday!
I told him that, at thirty(gasp!) NINE(!) you’d think you’d WANT people to forget ;) but I was really touched that he didn’t want ME to forget, and most of all that he reads my rants.
I know you SAID you didn’t want belated wishes here Red, but you deserve them. You are – and will always be – veryvery close to my heart**. Happy birthday (to you and your girlbaby). I wish you all many more good years and happy times.
And thank you for reading and reminding.
MUCH love,
-s
p.s. did anybody remember to get you cherries?
*"a very strange, enchanted boy…"
- and don't go givin' me !@#$ about saying "boy", red - you KNOW what I mean! :)
**even if you are WAAAAAAAY too old for me now! Hahahaha! ;D
Thursday, June 12, 2003
ROAD TRIP TO THE BEACH TOMORRRRROOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOWWWWWWWWWW!!!! YAY, ME!!!
(packing, cleaning, blah blah blah tonight, boo me... but:
ROAD TRIP TO THE BEACH TOMORRRRROOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOWWWWWWWWWW!!!! YAY, ME!!!)
i'm goin' to the be-each, and hangin' with my bu-ddies, and goin' to tha we-dding and actin' like a foo-ool! yeah! two days offa work! yeah! duhn duhn duhn duhn duhn DUHN! woo!
yes. i realize this is a silly rant, but you know, this thing, this blog, is a place for me to express my true, inner sambiness and my true inner samby is delighted because:
ROAD TRIP TO THE BEACH TOMORRRRROOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOWWWWWWWWWW!!!! YAY, ME!!!
:D
calgon take me awaaaaay!
MUCH love (and a little sunscreen)
-s
(packing, cleaning, blah blah blah tonight, boo me... but:
ROAD TRIP TO THE BEACH TOMORRRRROOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOWWWWWWWWWW!!!! YAY, ME!!!)
i'm goin' to the be-each, and hangin' with my bu-ddies, and goin' to tha we-dding and actin' like a foo-ool! yeah! two days offa work! yeah! duhn duhn duhn duhn duhn DUHN! woo!
yes. i realize this is a silly rant, but you know, this thing, this blog, is a place for me to express my true, inner sambiness and my true inner samby is delighted because:
ROAD TRIP TO THE BEACH TOMORRRRROOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOWWWWWWWWWW!!!! YAY, ME!!!
:D
calgon take me awaaaaay!
MUCH love (and a little sunscreen)
-s
Wednesday, June 11, 2003
so mr. d____ said that he was thinking of getting a special tattoo to commemorate the fact that he got an apology from me*.
:[
good news for the day - the egg drop was a HUGE success! 8 of our eggs survived (though mine and ayla's egg - "lucy" was not one of the 8). the science guys said they'd never had so many survivors before! saluda libob kids ROCK SOCKS!
-my lunch at the WILDFLOUR BAKERY** today was very exotic and exciting and good;
- and juliana came to see me today!
schweet!
xoxox
-s
*i suppose that's what i get for a.) being such a !@#$ sometimes and b.) respecting smartarses so much. oh well.
**WOOOOO! in tha HOUSE! hey ladies!
:[
good news for the day - the egg drop was a HUGE success! 8 of our eggs survived (though mine and ayla's egg - "lucy" was not one of the 8). the science guys said they'd never had so many survivors before! saluda libob kids ROCK SOCKS!
-my lunch at the WILDFLOUR BAKERY** today was very exotic and exciting and good;
- and juliana came to see me today!
schweet!
xoxox
-s
*i suppose that's what i get for a.) being such a !@#$ sometimes and b.) respecting smartarses so much. oh well.
**WOOOOO! in tha HOUSE! hey ladies!
Tuesday, June 10, 2003
you know, for such a smart girl, i am just not very bright sometimes. any of y'all ever have that problem? i have been not sleeping and not taking the best care of myself... i have been a bit kookoo for cocoapuffs lately, and it's wearing on me. CALGON, take me AWAY!
am hoping beach and four days with no SERIOUS responsibility will help...
well, in latest news, chicken apron boy and i have seemingly mended fences. yay! he really seems like a bloke worth knowing. (he's DEFINITELY a bloke worth looking at, and has agreed to submit himself to be a hottie of the fortnight - woohoo) his lady is like a biological origami fractal, herself. even if he was REALLY a complete yobbo, he'd be worth dealing with to get to know & hang out with her, but i think he's actually a pretty decent guy, too. and did i mention that he was veryvery cute? ;D
not that i notice things like that.
ahem.
got a sweet message from a special ex, today...
got to watch mr. that cute guy play ball in no shirt with his kids on sunday. even better, i got to watch his kids give him hell about his lavendar do-rag and being OLD! lol!
i actually APOLOGIZED to someone today, too. they were so shocked they didn't know what to say. ahem.
i'd like to blame my astrological sign* but i'm just proud and stubborn and thoughtless sometimes, and that's all there is to it. i'm working on it.
the wedding is going to be FANTASTIC... i wish EVERYBODY could be there. i am looking forward to fun roadtrip, "camping", seeing all the ned-herd in their best beach-wedding finery, and thowin' down geek-wedding-partay style. i only wish lulie could come...
moo.
more later,
much love
-s
* like half of the population of the !@#$ world...
am hoping beach and four days with no SERIOUS responsibility will help...
well, in latest news, chicken apron boy and i have seemingly mended fences. yay! he really seems like a bloke worth knowing. (he's DEFINITELY a bloke worth looking at, and has agreed to submit himself to be a hottie of the fortnight - woohoo) his lady is like a biological origami fractal, herself. even if he was REALLY a complete yobbo, he'd be worth dealing with to get to know & hang out with her, but i think he's actually a pretty decent guy, too. and did i mention that he was veryvery cute? ;D
not that i notice things like that.
ahem.
got a sweet message from a special ex, today...
got to watch mr. that cute guy play ball in no shirt with his kids on sunday. even better, i got to watch his kids give him hell about his lavendar do-rag and being OLD! lol!
i actually APOLOGIZED to someone today, too. they were so shocked they didn't know what to say. ahem.
i'd like to blame my astrological sign* but i'm just proud and stubborn and thoughtless sometimes, and that's all there is to it. i'm working on it.
the wedding is going to be FANTASTIC... i wish EVERYBODY could be there. i am looking forward to fun roadtrip, "camping", seeing all the ned-herd in their best beach-wedding finery, and thowin' down geek-wedding-partay style. i only wish lulie could come...
moo.
more later,
much love
-s
* like half of the population of the !@#$ world...
Saturday, June 07, 2003
you guys have NO idea how UNsurprised i am that an administrator considering special needs assistants for a mental health care facility would ask to hire some one with this particular ability.
from this week's mountain express, News of the Weird section:
"In May a county human services procurement officer in Portland. Ore., mindful of the sometimes quixotic needs of the agency's mental-health clients, included in a list of potential resource requirements a person fluent in the Star Trek language Klingon (but later said no actual job openings are envisioned)."
those of you learning fictional languages from sci-fi and fantasy works, don't give up hope! there could be a paying job in it for you, yet!
lol!
much love,
Magpie, Queen of the Geeks
(Chamas kin tokemata san "Divine Language", Mondochiwan, ilo ou-man tokemato.)
from this week's mountain express, News of the Weird section:
"In May a county human services procurement officer in Portland. Ore., mindful of the sometimes quixotic needs of the agency's mental-health clients, included in a list of potential resource requirements a person fluent in the Star Trek language Klingon (but later said no actual job openings are envisioned)."
those of you learning fictional languages from sci-fi and fantasy works, don't give up hope! there could be a paying job in it for you, yet!
lol!
much love,
Magpie, Queen of the Geeks
(Chamas kin tokemata san "Divine Language", Mondochiwan, ilo ou-man tokemato.)
Friday, June 06, 2003
i feel baaaad. i think i got crow-boy cooties (he let me taste his K&C on wednesday night). he gave me a warning look, but i didn't get it and now i feel like moo-onna-stick. i am going HOME. i am going to rest and finish this !@#$ painting and then rest some more. moo. MOO!
i am gonna be really sad if i feel like this tomorrow night.
moo.
much love - and cooties -
-s
Thursday, June 05, 2003
I am tired of hurting and pondering over this same damned subject, so that must mean that I still have a ways to go. I’m beginning to wonder if it is just my !@#$ haircut that is drawing all of these insecure, stinkbugheaded, small-minded, disarmingly ok-seeming chauvinistic jerks out of the woodwork and onto my case.
Whatever it is, they are not the only jelly-fish in the sea… I hope my beloved Pablo doesn’t mind me stealing his words to use as an example of all the good, whole, loving, Superior boys that are out there, who don’t need me to wear an apron, guard the hoard and put a CHICKEN on my shield* just so THEY can sleep safely in their little beds at night.
The other reason I wanted to post this sweet, lovely excerpt from his letter is because of how loved and precious and accepted AS I AM it made me feel, and I SO needed that right now.
Thank you, mi Pablito. I love you even more than wide shots filled with wind, white faces, long black hair, red lips, red leaves, red silk and the sound of ringing steel.
your razz keeps me going, too paul.
warts and all,
-s
“I just want you to know that I have swooned of late, and that it is, in some way, your doing; I read your rants recently, absorbed them in their beauty and fullness, then went right out and rented "Hero". Oh my stars and garters. Thank you, thank you.
And thank you for your constant inspiration, meaning quite truly that you remind me to breathe, deeply, and in so doing to smell and taste and keep myself alive to smell and taste some more, and then, on the exhale, I feel that I have something to give back, whether it's just CO2, or maybe some words, a song, whistle, razz, whatever . . .
Thanks for the memories, even though they're not mine. Those Pictures of Robbie were gorgeous, as I know she was, and a blessing on you for her beauty that you keep alive.
You kick such ass majeure, my dear sister; it seems like, sometimes, that you're just showing the rest of us what a life lived can be, warts and all.
Okay, enough of my gush. I mean it, I said it, so there.”
-pc
06/03/03
*don’t ask.
Whatever it is, they are not the only jelly-fish in the sea… I hope my beloved Pablo doesn’t mind me stealing his words to use as an example of all the good, whole, loving, Superior boys that are out there, who don’t need me to wear an apron, guard the hoard and put a CHICKEN on my shield* just so THEY can sleep safely in their little beds at night.
The other reason I wanted to post this sweet, lovely excerpt from his letter is because of how loved and precious and accepted AS I AM it made me feel, and I SO needed that right now.
Thank you, mi Pablito. I love you even more than wide shots filled with wind, white faces, long black hair, red lips, red leaves, red silk and the sound of ringing steel.
your razz keeps me going, too paul.
warts and all,
-s
“I just want you to know that I have swooned of late, and that it is, in some way, your doing; I read your rants recently, absorbed them in their beauty and fullness, then went right out and rented "Hero". Oh my stars and garters. Thank you, thank you.
And thank you for your constant inspiration, meaning quite truly that you remind me to breathe, deeply, and in so doing to smell and taste and keep myself alive to smell and taste some more, and then, on the exhale, I feel that I have something to give back, whether it's just CO2, or maybe some words, a song, whistle, razz, whatever . . .
Thanks for the memories, even though they're not mine. Those Pictures of Robbie were gorgeous, as I know she was, and a blessing on you for her beauty that you keep alive.
You kick such ass majeure, my dear sister; it seems like, sometimes, that you're just showing the rest of us what a life lived can be, warts and all.
Okay, enough of my gush. I mean it, I said it, so there.”
-pc
06/03/03
*don’t ask.
Tuesday, June 03, 2003
Sunday evening, I was in the tub. It was around 7, 7:30. Still good daylight. I was soaking, reading, hadn’t even wet my hair yet, when Luna started barking like mad and I heard someone bang on the door. I hollered “WHO IS IT?!?!” I heard “mm nm is ERIC/DEREK(?) n mm hm uh clmmhnm BAG nn mm BUSTED nn mmhmmnnmm…”
I said “WHAT?!?! WHO IS IT?!?!” this message was repeated, pretty much verbatim.
I said “HANG ON. I’LL BE RIGHT THERE.”
I got out, soaked, got dressed quickly (don’t you !@#$ hate that?) and went to the door.
There was a man there, maybe 10 years younger than me. He was aboutmy height, much heavier, and he had on nice clothes (a matching yellow shorts/shirt set). He had his shirt pulled up to his tits, and on his stomach was a gauze pad, a little clear plastic bag, some tape and a whole lot of human feces.
What he’d been saying was “My name is Eric/Derek(?) and I have a colostomy bag and it busted and I was wondering if I could do something (points to my shaggy yard) to earn 15$ to buy some more.”
Needless to say, I did not investigate his claim closely. I looked at his eyes, instead, and said “Let me go see if I have any money in the house.” I did. One 20$ bill. I opened the door, handed him the 20 and he said “Are you sure I can’t do anything (points to the yard again) for you?”
I just said “No, man. Just take care of yourself.” And then he trekked off through the yard and back up the hill.
I was in the tub and dressing for maybe another hour. When I left (to go find some familiar face, something to ground me), the smell was still lingering on the porch. I burned some nag champa and said a little prayer against desperation.
I still feel pretty spaced about it. I did go to tell the police, just so the next person who calls and says “A man just came to my door covered in…” doesn’t have to feel as crazy as I did… They - of course - completely blew me off.
Both sides (all sides) of the possible truth are scary. Truthfully, it didn’t look real – what I saw of it (the contraption, not the shit. The shit was DEFINITELY real.). If it was real, why was this nicely dressed young man walking so far from home(?) when his family or fiends surely would have helped him? How could he do yardwork in that condition? If it wasn’t real, then how desperate is this man? And what will he do next?
And so on and so on and so on…
I don’t know folks. When is Cowboy Curtis gonna come and give me the choice between red and blue?
feeling very unsafe and disoriented, but also strangely strong and fine... how very me.
-s
I said “WHAT?!?! WHO IS IT?!?!” this message was repeated, pretty much verbatim.
I said “HANG ON. I’LL BE RIGHT THERE.”
I got out, soaked, got dressed quickly (don’t you !@#$ hate that?) and went to the door.
There was a man there, maybe 10 years younger than me. He was aboutmy height, much heavier, and he had on nice clothes (a matching yellow shorts/shirt set). He had his shirt pulled up to his tits, and on his stomach was a gauze pad, a little clear plastic bag, some tape and a whole lot of human feces.
What he’d been saying was “My name is Eric/Derek(?) and I have a colostomy bag and it busted and I was wondering if I could do something (points to my shaggy yard) to earn 15$ to buy some more.”
Needless to say, I did not investigate his claim closely. I looked at his eyes, instead, and said “Let me go see if I have any money in the house.” I did. One 20$ bill. I opened the door, handed him the 20 and he said “Are you sure I can’t do anything (points to the yard again) for you?”
I just said “No, man. Just take care of yourself.” And then he trekked off through the yard and back up the hill.
I was in the tub and dressing for maybe another hour. When I left (to go find some familiar face, something to ground me), the smell was still lingering on the porch. I burned some nag champa and said a little prayer against desperation.
I still feel pretty spaced about it. I did go to tell the police, just so the next person who calls and says “A man just came to my door covered in…” doesn’t have to feel as crazy as I did… They - of course - completely blew me off.
Both sides (all sides) of the possible truth are scary. Truthfully, it didn’t look real – what I saw of it (the contraption, not the shit. The shit was DEFINITELY real.). If it was real, why was this nicely dressed young man walking so far from home(?) when his family or fiends surely would have helped him? How could he do yardwork in that condition? If it wasn’t real, then how desperate is this man? And what will he do next?
And so on and so on and so on…
I don’t know folks. When is Cowboy Curtis gonna come and give me the choice between red and blue?
feeling very unsafe and disoriented, but also strangely strong and fine... how very me.
-s
Saturday, May 31, 2003
The chain of events that inspired my May 24 rant have borne some bitter fruit. Y’see, it was all about this one boy*, who sadly stands as a symbol for a small, but general slice of the populace that just seems to have problems with ME.
Though I genuinely like this boy, I don’t “like-like” him – he’s a happily married man. So it’s not a ‘spurned affection’ kinda’ deal**. We don’t know each other very well, but we both participate in a joint social activity that involves planning, decision-making, creative thinking, strategy. We game together. I’ve been gaming for 22 years, and in all of that time, I have never played a party leader, nor have I ever played with a female party leader. I never gave it much thought, until recently. This man has been gaming for a long time, too. But he has never played with a woman at all. In the game we play (an rpg, D&D***), my character was the first in the game, and she is the party leader. In this case, she is the leader of our party, the chieftain of a village of about 700 people, and the commander of a cadre of 19 soldiers – so far. So. There is a lot of planning, plotting, strategizing, y’know… TCB.
I have never been one for strategy games. In my experience they were always a bunch of guys sitting around, engaging in metaphorical pee-pee wagging, and arguing a lot. Screw that. But in this game, when everyone is pulling together, pooling their resources, it is a heck of a lot of fun. We’ve been playing this game for over a year now, and we’ve had a lot of fun and accrued a lot of ‘experience’. We’ve also begun to build a pretty fine kingdom, all starting with just one girl, a sword, a horse, and a letter.
When we first began to play this game there was another boy with this exact same problem (me). Ironically enough, this new guy is playing the same character. The problem was, they didn’t like me running the show. We played with other guys, too. And a couple of girls. And NONE of them had these complaints. But these two guys have both been angry with me to the point of yelling, personal insults, and lack of sleep and stomach-aches on my part.
I have been pretty stressed out about it. I love to play this game, it’s one of my favorite distractions. More importantly, to me, it is more than JUST distraction. It is a good – if odd – form of soul-searching. Finding out more about yourself and your friends, testing the limits of your imagination and beliefs. So all of this anger and dissension really hits home deeply. Like a bomb in the basement, or the baby’s room.
It’s easy for me to say here that I have tried hard not to push these guys buttons (and believe me, they are covered with them, and they are impossible to miss). But I really haven’t. I’ve busted my ass to keep the peace, partially because it’s part of my character’s job, but mostly because I really enjoy playing this game, and I want everyone else to enjoy it, too. I honestly believe that my GM and the other players would agree.
I know – beyond a shadow of a doubt – that these men don’t like having a woman as a leader. Even if, or maybe ESPECIALLY if, she’s pretty good at it. I believe that if I was a man, they’d follow me blindly and loyally if I was as good a leader – or maybe even not as good a leader – as I, Sam/Magda am.
And this is just a faint, little tiny echo of a problem that somehow still exists, the world over, in homes, offices, sports arenas, workplaces of every kind, the military, and on and on and on.
I guess I’m spoiled. I was ranting about this to a friend last night and I told him that a big part of the problem was that I was so unused to this. I have been blessed by (or have made good strong choices…) being surrounded by men who just love to see women fill all the space god allows them. See them be all that they can be. The men in my family had no choice. They either appreciated badass (and I do mean BADASS!) women, or they got the hell out of dodge.
If I beat my guy friends in arm wrestling, they’d just be really proud of me, and start lifting more weights the NEXT DAY. And those men have reaped what they have sown. They have whole harems of women – wives, girlfriends, friends, daughters, sisters, moms, aunts – who are THE cream of the crop, capable of EVERYthing, make them look like the pimp-daddies, and treat them like Kings because these women are grateful to have men in their lives who truly appreciate, respect, admire, and love them. Who never sell them short. Who know how lucky they are and also how wonderful THEY must be to deserve the love, loyalty and attention of girls like this.
God damnit.
And then there are guys who are NOT like this.
What’s so sad is that both of these aforementioned blokes are good guys. Likeable guys. I really wish that it wasn’t like this. I wish there was someway to change it without my having to be the bottom dog. (NEVER. Not even for Vin.) I have yet to meet the man, and truly suspect that one has yet to be born, that could make me roll over. I’ll acquiesce, compromise, try to be civilized and thoughtful for a decent man. I’ve even done these things for men who didn’t deserve it, because it’s what you should do, sometimes, HAVE to do, sometimes. But NO woman, NO ONE, should ever have to be bottom dog to anybody else. Y’all know what I’m saying here. If you don’t, write to me, and I’ll explain.
So the crux of all this is that our game – one of my favorite, least expensive, most readily available, worthwhile, lovely, fun escapes is being disrupted again. And I am being forced to examine this silly and painful dynamic that affects my life very deeply, on many levels. Because a boy doesn’t like feeling that I may possibly be more of a “Man” than he is.
It’s the real reason that I’m single. That I will probably stay single. And you know what? It’s the one reason that I can accept with pride.
And I promise y’all, if I ever DO meet a man who is truly my match, I will let y’all know. If only to warn you that there is now one BAAAAAAD M!@#$% F!@#$% on the STREETS! ;)
Much love.
-s
*For those of you who don’t know, I always use the term “boy” and “girl” when I mean “male person” or “female” person. I only say “man” when I am mad, talking to the police, writing an essay or imitating Miss Prissy off the Warner Bros. cartoons.
**Though I have had issues with these same kinds of boys that were exacerbated by that particular condition.
***Role Playing Game – Dungeons and Dragons
Though I genuinely like this boy, I don’t “like-like” him – he’s a happily married man. So it’s not a ‘spurned affection’ kinda’ deal**. We don’t know each other very well, but we both participate in a joint social activity that involves planning, decision-making, creative thinking, strategy. We game together. I’ve been gaming for 22 years, and in all of that time, I have never played a party leader, nor have I ever played with a female party leader. I never gave it much thought, until recently. This man has been gaming for a long time, too. But he has never played with a woman at all. In the game we play (an rpg, D&D***), my character was the first in the game, and she is the party leader. In this case, she is the leader of our party, the chieftain of a village of about 700 people, and the commander of a cadre of 19 soldiers – so far. So. There is a lot of planning, plotting, strategizing, y’know… TCB.
I have never been one for strategy games. In my experience they were always a bunch of guys sitting around, engaging in metaphorical pee-pee wagging, and arguing a lot. Screw that. But in this game, when everyone is pulling together, pooling their resources, it is a heck of a lot of fun. We’ve been playing this game for over a year now, and we’ve had a lot of fun and accrued a lot of ‘experience’. We’ve also begun to build a pretty fine kingdom, all starting with just one girl, a sword, a horse, and a letter.
When we first began to play this game there was another boy with this exact same problem (me). Ironically enough, this new guy is playing the same character. The problem was, they didn’t like me running the show. We played with other guys, too. And a couple of girls. And NONE of them had these complaints. But these two guys have both been angry with me to the point of yelling, personal insults, and lack of sleep and stomach-aches on my part.
I have been pretty stressed out about it. I love to play this game, it’s one of my favorite distractions. More importantly, to me, it is more than JUST distraction. It is a good – if odd – form of soul-searching. Finding out more about yourself and your friends, testing the limits of your imagination and beliefs. So all of this anger and dissension really hits home deeply. Like a bomb in the basement, or the baby’s room.
It’s easy for me to say here that I have tried hard not to push these guys buttons (and believe me, they are covered with them, and they are impossible to miss). But I really haven’t. I’ve busted my ass to keep the peace, partially because it’s part of my character’s job, but mostly because I really enjoy playing this game, and I want everyone else to enjoy it, too. I honestly believe that my GM and the other players would agree.
I know – beyond a shadow of a doubt – that these men don’t like having a woman as a leader. Even if, or maybe ESPECIALLY if, she’s pretty good at it. I believe that if I was a man, they’d follow me blindly and loyally if I was as good a leader – or maybe even not as good a leader – as I, Sam/Magda am.
And this is just a faint, little tiny echo of a problem that somehow still exists, the world over, in homes, offices, sports arenas, workplaces of every kind, the military, and on and on and on.
I guess I’m spoiled. I was ranting about this to a friend last night and I told him that a big part of the problem was that I was so unused to this. I have been blessed by (or have made good strong choices…) being surrounded by men who just love to see women fill all the space god allows them. See them be all that they can be. The men in my family had no choice. They either appreciated badass (and I do mean BADASS!) women, or they got the hell out of dodge.
If I beat my guy friends in arm wrestling, they’d just be really proud of me, and start lifting more weights the NEXT DAY. And those men have reaped what they have sown. They have whole harems of women – wives, girlfriends, friends, daughters, sisters, moms, aunts – who are THE cream of the crop, capable of EVERYthing, make them look like the pimp-daddies, and treat them like Kings because these women are grateful to have men in their lives who truly appreciate, respect, admire, and love them. Who never sell them short. Who know how lucky they are and also how wonderful THEY must be to deserve the love, loyalty and attention of girls like this.
God damnit.
And then there are guys who are NOT like this.
What’s so sad is that both of these aforementioned blokes are good guys. Likeable guys. I really wish that it wasn’t like this. I wish there was someway to change it without my having to be the bottom dog. (NEVER. Not even for Vin.) I have yet to meet the man, and truly suspect that one has yet to be born, that could make me roll over. I’ll acquiesce, compromise, try to be civilized and thoughtful for a decent man. I’ve even done these things for men who didn’t deserve it, because it’s what you should do, sometimes, HAVE to do, sometimes. But NO woman, NO ONE, should ever have to be bottom dog to anybody else. Y’all know what I’m saying here. If you don’t, write to me, and I’ll explain.
So the crux of all this is that our game – one of my favorite, least expensive, most readily available, worthwhile, lovely, fun escapes is being disrupted again. And I am being forced to examine this silly and painful dynamic that affects my life very deeply, on many levels. Because a boy doesn’t like feeling that I may possibly be more of a “Man” than he is.
It’s the real reason that I’m single. That I will probably stay single. And you know what? It’s the one reason that I can accept with pride.
And I promise y’all, if I ever DO meet a man who is truly my match, I will let y’all know. If only to warn you that there is now one BAAAAAAD M!@#$% F!@#$% on the STREETS! ;)
Much love.
-s
*For those of you who don’t know, I always use the term “boy” and “girl” when I mean “male person” or “female” person. I only say “man” when I am mad, talking to the police, writing an essay or imitating Miss Prissy off the Warner Bros. cartoons.
**Though I have had issues with these same kinds of boys that were exacerbated by that particular condition.
***Role Playing Game – Dungeons and Dragons
