The first weekend of Advent.
O Magnum Mysterium
et admirabile sacramentum,
ut animalia viderent Dominum
natum, jacentum in praesepio!
Beata Virgo, cujus viscera
meruerunt portare
Dominum Christum. Alleluia!
O great mystery
and wondrous sacrament
that animals should see the new-
born Lord, lying in their manger!
Blessed is the Virgin whose womb
was worthy to bear the Lord Jesus Christ! Alleluia!
Juxtaposition, my choral notes say. Exalted with the lowly. I sang this piece with the ISC last year, and will at All Saints again this Christmas. It is one of my favorite pieces of choral literature for the advent season. The moment when the altos reverently disclose "ut animalia" is particularly arresting. With animals. Advent is a moment of preparedness, for a savior born unto beasts.
I got into a lengthy discussion several days ago with someone I dearly love and respect who is not a believer in the deity of Jesus Christ. I state this with some particularity because I think it is impossible to not believe in the personhood of Jesus, to say that he never lived or established a presence in ancient Israel. But the scandal of his Godhood- that was what was called into question. Of course, if you are going to talk about Christ, you must talk about his death, which was largely the focal point for his incarnation.
Judea in those days was a land under siege from Rome. Jesus' life was an advent for the Israelites. They were looking for a leader, for a strong king that would launch a revolution. They sought freedom. And in this national, political, and militaristic arena, Jesus failed them. My conversation partner just couldn't understand this. wouldn't his impact have been greater if he had ascended to an earthly throne? United Israel? Thrown off the yoke of the oppressor?
It is debatable. I don't want to be the heretical schmuck that says Jesus would have failed. But the one thing he told his disciples was that "my kingdom is not of this world." (John 18:36) Had he wanted it, it would have been. That whole triumphal entry thing was meant as a welcome for a conquering hero, not the prelude to an execution. But Jesus was about renewal. Jesus was about the culmination and fulfillment of the Law, not sitting as reinforcing ruler. He brought a new covenant, the king of kings born unto animals. The first was made last so that the last may be first.
Is there ever a way to be prepared for this kind of God? Possibly not. We get 25 days each year in the advent season to try. Any less than that, or holding the cycle with less frequency, would render the task utterly impossible. As it is, I must pray for eyes to see, ears to hear this miracle lying in a feedbox.
The preparation has begun. O Emmanuel, come.
(below is a clip of a choral ensemble singing the setting of the text above by composer Morten Lauridsen. They do it more than justice.)
12.02.2007
11.20.2007
hello?
is this thing on?
let's grease the wheels a bit.
I intend to start posting at this blogsite again, at least through the advent season (and this would include epiphany). It is my intention to post a different entry every day, reflective and illuminative and projective and adjective. Most likely not objective.
If anyone has a thought, tell it to me.
let's grease the wheels a bit.
I intend to start posting at this blogsite again, at least through the advent season (and this would include epiphany). It is my intention to post a different entry every day, reflective and illuminative and projective and adjective. Most likely not objective.
If anyone has a thought, tell it to me.
4.01.2007
where soul meets body
(written afternoon of 3/30/07)
I never realize how right it feels to be driving through lake country until I'm actually doing it. I got off the interstate a few exits before I needed to (but exactly when I needed to), and enjoyed trundling along on a day that was just the right temperature for a jacket and an open window.
The right song makes all the difference.
It has been discovered (!) that I'm one of those rare breeds who takes pleasure in music for the music itself, not because of an associated memory or anything else secondary. The music is enough. It's always enough. I (trust and) understand implicitly that the third person outside the "I" that takes over and makes these limbs sway, makes this head nod and this pulse jump. There is an other. What is it? God? Is art God? It is a thing seperate from humanity, that much is certain. We appreciate it apart from the artist, for it is a thing apart from the artist. (I'm not being redundant, repeatedly.) It is dependent on the artist for creation, to be sure, but then it is capable of being free standing, long after the artist ceases to be- and it can represent something entirely new and unique to a different body of people with no idea of the artist's original intent. This is not a problem, more like a solution in the absence of a problem. Beyond all else, art is a communicator, but not solely this- it is a mirror. Those who connect with a certain art or piece of art do so because they see themselves somewhere within the myriad of intangibles present there.
How is it that one person could create one thing that then becomes symbol of so many other things to so many? It is the separateness of art from the individual creator that makes it accessible to all. Herein lies the rub- something that is borne of one is really the mirror for many. The artist in such situations hardly seems in control of themselves- often creating because they don't have a choice.
Get out of the way.
I'm sitting in a Barnes & Noble cafe right now, looking up at the mural covered in so many loved and lined faces - Shaw, Wilde, Wharton, James, Woolf. You powerless fools. We hold your images up in effigy for what you channelled, not who you are. It is these words here, winking on the inked page, that will remain when I'm in the ground. It is this push towards the other that drives me even as they were driven. But if not God, if God is separate from art with the same amount of separateness God has with all this, which is to say not much, or an unknown amount, is art merely a manifestation of a higher, collective conscience of humans? Or is it still "other?"
Will things always, still, be "other"? The Bible says that Jesus did not consider equality with God something to be grasped. I wonder how much, in his infinite wisdom, he also left out of the "grasping" category.
I want to know
I want to know
But when the grace is found in the unknown, the stillness, the quietness, the ineffable and mysterious cloud (!), how much better off am I with open hands? As opposed to grasped ones? Or even grasping? And if art and grace are beyond similar- this rightness found in the mirror, the second of seeing yourself for even one moment in the same skin of everyone else, is it any wonder that both are unexplainable?
BE BOLD, SON.
In spite of everything else, they are both wrapped up in this skin so far as to be beyond the point of no return. I am chained to loveliness. I am a prisoner of bliss. If grace, art, and I all exist in one moment, and I am able to look beyond and contemplate all three with a smile and a nodding head and that "third" of me, I may not be whole, but I can get a taste.
And that's beyond allright.
I never realize how right it feels to be driving through lake country until I'm actually doing it. I got off the interstate a few exits before I needed to (but exactly when I needed to), and enjoyed trundling along on a day that was just the right temperature for a jacket and an open window.
The right song makes all the difference.
It has been discovered (!) that I'm one of those rare breeds who takes pleasure in music for the music itself, not because of an associated memory or anything else secondary. The music is enough. It's always enough. I (trust and) understand implicitly that the third person outside the "I" that takes over and makes these limbs sway, makes this head nod and this pulse jump. There is an other. What is it? God? Is art God? It is a thing seperate from humanity, that much is certain. We appreciate it apart from the artist, for it is a thing apart from the artist. (I'm not being redundant, repeatedly.) It is dependent on the artist for creation, to be sure, but then it is capable of being free standing, long after the artist ceases to be- and it can represent something entirely new and unique to a different body of people with no idea of the artist's original intent. This is not a problem, more like a solution in the absence of a problem. Beyond all else, art is a communicator, but not solely this- it is a mirror. Those who connect with a certain art or piece of art do so because they see themselves somewhere within the myriad of intangibles present there.
How is it that one person could create one thing that then becomes symbol of so many other things to so many? It is the separateness of art from the individual creator that makes it accessible to all. Herein lies the rub- something that is borne of one is really the mirror for many. The artist in such situations hardly seems in control of themselves- often creating because they don't have a choice.
Get out of the way.
I'm sitting in a Barnes & Noble cafe right now, looking up at the mural covered in so many loved and lined faces - Shaw, Wilde, Wharton, James, Woolf. You powerless fools. We hold your images up in effigy for what you channelled, not who you are. It is these words here, winking on the inked page, that will remain when I'm in the ground. It is this push towards the other that drives me even as they were driven. But if not God, if God is separate from art with the same amount of separateness God has with all this, which is to say not much, or an unknown amount, is art merely a manifestation of a higher, collective conscience of humans? Or is it still "other?"
Will things always, still, be "other"? The Bible says that Jesus did not consider equality with God something to be grasped. I wonder how much, in his infinite wisdom, he also left out of the "grasping" category.
I want to know
I want to know
But when the grace is found in the unknown, the stillness, the quietness, the ineffable and mysterious cloud (!), how much better off am I with open hands? As opposed to grasped ones? Or even grasping? And if art and grace are beyond similar- this rightness found in the mirror, the second of seeing yourself for even one moment in the same skin of everyone else, is it any wonder that both are unexplainable?
BE BOLD, SON.
In spite of everything else, they are both wrapped up in this skin so far as to be beyond the point of no return. I am chained to loveliness. I am a prisoner of bliss. If grace, art, and I all exist in one moment, and I am able to look beyond and contemplate all three with a smile and a nodding head and that "third" of me, I may not be whole, but I can get a taste.
And that's beyond allright.
3.15.2007
this
1. EVER BEEN GIVEN AN ENGAGEMENT RING?
nooooooooooooo.
2. LONGEST RELATIONSHIP?
figments of my imagination and 0 seconds vie for the championship on this one
3. LAST GIFT YOU RECEIVED?
three bags of swedish fish from my Mama.
4. EVER DROPPED A CELL PHONE?
ever breathed? same answer.
5. WHEN'S THE LAST TIME YOU WORKED OUT?
swam over the noon hour today at Krannert
6. THING(S) YOU SPEND A LOT OF MONEY ON?
music, shoes, bikes
7. LAST FOOD YOU ATE?
girl scout cookies, swedish fish
8. FIRST THING YOU NOTICE ABOUT THE OPPOSITE SEX?
teeth, hands, eyes
9. ONE FAVORITE SONG?.
changes come by OtR
10. WHERE DO YOU LIVE?
presidential suite of the satanic shakespearean complex
11. HIGH SCHOOL YOU ATTENDED:
River Valley High School aka Reefer Valley
12. CELL PHONE SERVICE PROVIDER:
Verizon
13. FAVORITE MALL STORE:
Gap, most likely
14. LONGEST JOB YOU HAD:
for my folks- 8 years worth
15. DO YOU OWN A PAIR OF DICE?
no. but I own a paradise. heh heh heh
16. DO YOU PRANK CALL PEOPLE?:
No. unless you count my inane/rambling voice mails, which might be considered pranks, though they are in earnest.
17. LAST WEDDING YOU ATTENDED:
Shelly & Rodney's, at Red Rocks.
18. FIRST FRIEND YOU'D CALL IF YOU WON THE LOTTERY:
Buddy.
19. LAST TIME YOU SAW YOUR BEST FRIEND:
Last weekend of January, I saw two of them. The other one is sitting about 10 feet away, YouTubing.
20. FAVORITE FAST FOOD RESTAURANT:
Panda Express.
21. BIGGEST LIE YOU HAVE EVER HEARD:
I hope I never make you cry like that.
23. WHERE'S YOUR FAVORITE PLACE TO EAT WITH FRIENDS?
Steak and Shake. You just can't do that out west. After that, prolly Adam's.
24. CAN YOU COOK?
I can hold my own... nothing fancy
25. WHAT CAR DO YOU DRIVE?:
The Super Trooper. Support my troops, people.
26. BEST KISSER:
so far, I'd have to say that squirrel that sat on DNO's upper lip for "Little Women".
27. LAST TIME YOU CRIED?:
A couple of hours ago, during a phone call to Japan.
28. MOST DISLIKED FOODS:
Carrots. Onions. Chocolate. Saurkraut. Burned Lasagna. Haggis. Hot Dogs in a blender. Unbreaded, rubbery squid that's been sitting out for hours.
29. THING YOU LIKE MOST ABOUT YOURSELF:
Eyes, hands, hair.
30. THING YOU DISLIKE MOST ABOUT YOURSELF:
my current matronlyness
32. LONGEST SHIFT YOU HAVE WORKED AT A JOB?:
13.5 hours at Starbucks.
33. FAVORITE MOVIE?
Sense and Sensibility.
34. CAN YOU SING?
eh, passibly
35. LAST CONCERT ATTENDED?
Hm. Amos Lee? Maybe OtR?
36. LAST TIME YOU ATE OUT?
Lunch at On the Border with Grandma today after my swim.
37. LAST MOVIE RENTED:
whoa. no idea on this one- Davis rented "Eurotrip" so we could see Lucy Lawless in a dominatrix costume a couple of weeks ago- so it wasn't a direct rent, but close
38.ONE THING YOU NEVER LEAVE THE HOUSE WITHOUT:
clothes on.
39. FAVORITE vacation spot?
Colorado, at this point. It's where I keep freaking going all the time, so it must be.
43. LAPTOP OR DESKTOP COMPUTER?:
I wish I had a laptop. But the crap lap died, and unless money falls out of the sky, I won't be getting another anytime soon..... I'm not really very desky.
44. FAVORITE COMEDIAN?:
hm. I like Paula Poundstone, Wanda Sykes, and Ellen ok. Oh! and eddie izzard
45. DO YOU SMOKE?
Only when I'm burning with anger
46. SLEEP WITH OR WITHOUT CLOTHES?
With.
47. WHO SLEEPS WITH YOU EVERY NIGHT?:
more like what... a body pillow, clothes, sheepskin slippers, books, and sometimes a little trash.
48. DO LONG DISTANCE RELATIONSHIPS WORK?:
Not from what I've seen.
49. HOW MANY TIMES HAVE YOU BEEN PULLED OVER BY THE POLICE?
I've honestly lost count. At least 10.
50. PANCAKES OR FRENCH TOAST?
Shut up this makes me want a GW Bushboy.
51. DO YOU LIKE COFFEE?:
hate.
52 HOW DO YOU LIKE YOUR EGGS?
any way but over hard or boiled. probably in this preferential order: over easy, scrambled, poached, over medium
53. DO YOU BELIEVE IN ASTROLOGY?:
I believe that it is funny.
54. LAST PERSON YOU TALKED TO ON THE PHONE?:
Buddy
55. LAST PERSON ON YOUR MISSED CALL LIST?:
Bobby
56. WHAT WAS THE LAST TEXT MESSAGE YOU RECIEVED?:
Can we push it back to 5:45
58. NUMBER OF PILLOWS?:
3, two for heads, only one of which I use, and a body pillow.
59. WHAT ARE YOU WEARING RIGHT NOW?:
Chicago tshirt, jeans, sheepskin slippers. and underthings, you pervs.
60. PICK A LYRIC, ANY LYRIC:
Y a du monde
Dans ce beau monde
61. WHAT KIND OF JELLY DO YOU LIKE ON YOUR PB & J?:
berries made of rasps or straws
62. CAN YOU PLAY POOL?:
do you really want to swim with the sharks?
63.Can u swim?
see above.
I once again have become accustomed to bleach-tainted skin.
64. FAVORITE ICE CREAM?:
cookie dough. premium? cold stone creamery's cake batter. ridiculously extravagant? pistachio gelato.
65. DO YOU LIKE MAPS?
I do, actually. my fiance is a map
66. TELL ME A RANDOM FACT ABOUT YOURSELF:
I can't handle it if you eat off of my plate. I actually had a semi-embarrassing situation involving this problem of mine a few days ago.
68. EVER ATTEND A THEME PARTY?:
yeah, I went to a "Tacky Party" hosted by Erin Steury my sophomore year at HC... I was appropriate, that's all I'll say
69. WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE SEASON:??
late summer
70. LAST TIME YOU LAUGHED AT SOMETHING STUPID?
a few hours ago at the phrase "handy hand." I just laughed at it again.
71. WHAT TIME DID YOU WAKE UP THIS MORNING ?
1045. *slam slam slam* WAKE UP! GO TO LUNCH WITH GRANDMA!!!!!
72. BEST THING ABOUT WINTER?:
feeling like my automotive choice is justified.
73. LAST TIME A COP GAVE YOU A TICKET?:
colorado springs, sometime. I got three there... take your pick.
75. NAME OF YOUR FIRST PET?
Nugget, my affable beagle/mutt
76. DO YOU THINK PIRATES ARE COOL OR OVERRATED?
pirates don't exist
77. WHAT ARE YOU DOING THIS WEEKEND??
OtR, working.
78. BIRTHDATE!!
HOLY CRAP IT IS ON OCTOBER 1!!!!!!!!!!!!!@$#(*&%!
79. WHAT DO YOU WANT TO BE:
genuine. a travel writer. a mom. a spouse. a musician. a lover. a good listener. someone's hero.
85. ARE YOU ON A LAPTOP?:
yikes, I would break it, dontcha think?
87. ARE YOU SMILING?:
no.
89. DO YOU MISS SOMEONE RIGHT NOW?
no. no people. I am a rock. I am an iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiisland.
90. IF YOU COULD GO ANYWHERE IN THE WORLD WHERE WOULD YOU GO?
New Zealand, Greece, China, Japan, Macchu Picchu, the Bermuda Triangle, and Mount Kilimanjaro before all the snow is gone.
92. ARE YOU IN HIGH SCHOOL?:
yes.
93. DO YOU HAVE A CRUSH?:
9859 of them
94. WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE NAME?
stella.
95. WHAT COLOR IS YOUR BATHING SUIT?:
black, the same color as my heart. It keeps me from getting confused.
96. DOES YOUR SCHOOL START IN AUGUST?:
it starts in five minutes oh crap I'm going to be late.
97.Did u go on vacation last month?
no, unless you count those minivacations in my dumpster bed.
98. HAVE YOU EVER BEEN ON A CRUISE?:
no.
99. DO YOU HAVE A SISTER?
no. If I do, Dan's keeping something from me.
100. ARE YOU UPSTAIRS?:
no. I hate stairs. I hate up.
102. HAVE YOU EVER BEEN IN THE HOSPITAL?
yes.
103. DO YOU WISH YOU COULD SEE ANYONE PARTICULAR RIGHT NOW?
sure, as long as they were quiet and let me go to sleep. they could sit in the corner or something.
104. WHAT JEWELRY ARE YOU WEARING?
necklace with the knot that everyone always thinks is wiccan and grandma panozzo's ring on it, grandma pearl's green native american ring, and the silver ring buddy gave me.
105. WHAT ARE YOU GOING TO DO AFTER THIS SURVEY?
hit the clubs.
nooooooooooooo.
2. LONGEST RELATIONSHIP?
figments of my imagination and 0 seconds vie for the championship on this one
3. LAST GIFT YOU RECEIVED?
three bags of swedish fish from my Mama.
4. EVER DROPPED A CELL PHONE?
ever breathed? same answer.
5. WHEN'S THE LAST TIME YOU WORKED OUT?
swam over the noon hour today at Krannert
6. THING(S) YOU SPEND A LOT OF MONEY ON?
music, shoes, bikes
7. LAST FOOD YOU ATE?
girl scout cookies, swedish fish
8. FIRST THING YOU NOTICE ABOUT THE OPPOSITE SEX?
teeth, hands, eyes
9. ONE FAVORITE SONG?.
changes come by OtR
10. WHERE DO YOU LIVE?
presidential suite of the satanic shakespearean complex
11. HIGH SCHOOL YOU ATTENDED:
River Valley High School aka Reefer Valley
12. CELL PHONE SERVICE PROVIDER:
Verizon
13. FAVORITE MALL STORE:
Gap, most likely
14. LONGEST JOB YOU HAD:
for my folks- 8 years worth
15. DO YOU OWN A PAIR OF DICE?
no. but I own a paradise. heh heh heh
16. DO YOU PRANK CALL PEOPLE?:
No. unless you count my inane/rambling voice mails, which might be considered pranks, though they are in earnest.
17. LAST WEDDING YOU ATTENDED:
Shelly & Rodney's, at Red Rocks.
18. FIRST FRIEND YOU'D CALL IF YOU WON THE LOTTERY:
Buddy.
19. LAST TIME YOU SAW YOUR BEST FRIEND:
Last weekend of January, I saw two of them. The other one is sitting about 10 feet away, YouTubing.
20. FAVORITE FAST FOOD RESTAURANT:
Panda Express.
21. BIGGEST LIE YOU HAVE EVER HEARD:
I hope I never make you cry like that.
23. WHERE'S YOUR FAVORITE PLACE TO EAT WITH FRIENDS?
Steak and Shake. You just can't do that out west. After that, prolly Adam's.
24. CAN YOU COOK?
I can hold my own... nothing fancy
25. WHAT CAR DO YOU DRIVE?:
The Super Trooper. Support my troops, people.
26. BEST KISSER:
so far, I'd have to say that squirrel that sat on DNO's upper lip for "Little Women".
27. LAST TIME YOU CRIED?:
A couple of hours ago, during a phone call to Japan.
28. MOST DISLIKED FOODS:
Carrots. Onions. Chocolate. Saurkraut. Burned Lasagna. Haggis. Hot Dogs in a blender. Unbreaded, rubbery squid that's been sitting out for hours.
29. THING YOU LIKE MOST ABOUT YOURSELF:
Eyes, hands, hair.
30. THING YOU DISLIKE MOST ABOUT YOURSELF:
my current matronlyness
32. LONGEST SHIFT YOU HAVE WORKED AT A JOB?:
13.5 hours at Starbucks.
33. FAVORITE MOVIE?
Sense and Sensibility.
34. CAN YOU SING?
eh, passibly
35. LAST CONCERT ATTENDED?
Hm. Amos Lee? Maybe OtR?
36. LAST TIME YOU ATE OUT?
Lunch at On the Border with Grandma today after my swim.
37. LAST MOVIE RENTED:
whoa. no idea on this one- Davis rented "Eurotrip" so we could see Lucy Lawless in a dominatrix costume a couple of weeks ago- so it wasn't a direct rent, but close
38.ONE THING YOU NEVER LEAVE THE HOUSE WITHOUT:
clothes on.
39. FAVORITE vacation spot?
Colorado, at this point. It's where I keep freaking going all the time, so it must be.
43. LAPTOP OR DESKTOP COMPUTER?:
I wish I had a laptop. But the crap lap died, and unless money falls out of the sky, I won't be getting another anytime soon..... I'm not really very desky.
44. FAVORITE COMEDIAN?:
hm. I like Paula Poundstone, Wanda Sykes, and Ellen ok. Oh! and eddie izzard
45. DO YOU SMOKE?
Only when I'm burning with anger
46. SLEEP WITH OR WITHOUT CLOTHES?
With.
47. WHO SLEEPS WITH YOU EVERY NIGHT?:
more like what... a body pillow, clothes, sheepskin slippers, books, and sometimes a little trash.
48. DO LONG DISTANCE RELATIONSHIPS WORK?:
Not from what I've seen.
49. HOW MANY TIMES HAVE YOU BEEN PULLED OVER BY THE POLICE?
I've honestly lost count. At least 10.
50. PANCAKES OR FRENCH TOAST?
Shut up this makes me want a GW Bushboy.
51. DO YOU LIKE COFFEE?:
hate.
52 HOW DO YOU LIKE YOUR EGGS?
any way but over hard or boiled. probably in this preferential order: over easy, scrambled, poached, over medium
53. DO YOU BELIEVE IN ASTROLOGY?:
I believe that it is funny.
54. LAST PERSON YOU TALKED TO ON THE PHONE?:
Buddy
55. LAST PERSON ON YOUR MISSED CALL LIST?:
Bobby
56. WHAT WAS THE LAST TEXT MESSAGE YOU RECIEVED?:
Can we push it back to 5:45
58. NUMBER OF PILLOWS?:
3, two for heads, only one of which I use, and a body pillow.
59. WHAT ARE YOU WEARING RIGHT NOW?:
Chicago tshirt, jeans, sheepskin slippers. and underthings, you pervs.
60. PICK A LYRIC, ANY LYRIC:
Y a du monde
Dans ce beau monde
61. WHAT KIND OF JELLY DO YOU LIKE ON YOUR PB & J?:
berries made of rasps or straws
62. CAN YOU PLAY POOL?:
do you really want to swim with the sharks?
63.Can u swim?
see above.
I once again have become accustomed to bleach-tainted skin.
64. FAVORITE ICE CREAM?:
cookie dough. premium? cold stone creamery's cake batter. ridiculously extravagant? pistachio gelato.
65. DO YOU LIKE MAPS?
I do, actually. my fiance is a map
66. TELL ME A RANDOM FACT ABOUT YOURSELF:
I can't handle it if you eat off of my plate. I actually had a semi-embarrassing situation involving this problem of mine a few days ago.
68. EVER ATTEND A THEME PARTY?:
yeah, I went to a "Tacky Party" hosted by Erin Steury my sophomore year at HC... I was appropriate, that's all I'll say
69. WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE SEASON:??
late summer
70. LAST TIME YOU LAUGHED AT SOMETHING STUPID?
a few hours ago at the phrase "handy hand." I just laughed at it again.
71. WHAT TIME DID YOU WAKE UP THIS MORNING ?
1045. *slam slam slam* WAKE UP! GO TO LUNCH WITH GRANDMA!!!!!
72. BEST THING ABOUT WINTER?:
feeling like my automotive choice is justified.
73. LAST TIME A COP GAVE YOU A TICKET?:
colorado springs, sometime. I got three there... take your pick.
75. NAME OF YOUR FIRST PET?
Nugget, my affable beagle/mutt
76. DO YOU THINK PIRATES ARE COOL OR OVERRATED?
pirates don't exist
77. WHAT ARE YOU DOING THIS WEEKEND??
OtR, working.
78. BIRTHDATE!!
HOLY CRAP IT IS ON OCTOBER 1!!!!!!!!!!!!!@$#(*&%!
79. WHAT DO YOU WANT TO BE:
genuine. a travel writer. a mom. a spouse. a musician. a lover. a good listener. someone's hero.
85. ARE YOU ON A LAPTOP?:
yikes, I would break it, dontcha think?
87. ARE YOU SMILING?:
no.
89. DO YOU MISS SOMEONE RIGHT NOW?
no. no people. I am a rock. I am an iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiisland.
90. IF YOU COULD GO ANYWHERE IN THE WORLD WHERE WOULD YOU GO?
New Zealand, Greece, China, Japan, Macchu Picchu, the Bermuda Triangle, and Mount Kilimanjaro before all the snow is gone.
92. ARE YOU IN HIGH SCHOOL?:
yes.
93. DO YOU HAVE A CRUSH?:
9859 of them
94. WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE NAME?
stella.
95. WHAT COLOR IS YOUR BATHING SUIT?:
black, the same color as my heart. It keeps me from getting confused.
96. DOES YOUR SCHOOL START IN AUGUST?:
it starts in five minutes oh crap I'm going to be late.
97.Did u go on vacation last month?
no, unless you count those minivacations in my dumpster bed.
98. HAVE YOU EVER BEEN ON A CRUISE?:
no.
99. DO YOU HAVE A SISTER?
no. If I do, Dan's keeping something from me.
100. ARE YOU UPSTAIRS?:
no. I hate stairs. I hate up.
102. HAVE YOU EVER BEEN IN THE HOSPITAL?
yes.
103. DO YOU WISH YOU COULD SEE ANYONE PARTICULAR RIGHT NOW?
sure, as long as they were quiet and let me go to sleep. they could sit in the corner or something.
104. WHAT JEWELRY ARE YOU WEARING?
necklace with the knot that everyone always thinks is wiccan and grandma panozzo's ring on it, grandma pearl's green native american ring, and the silver ring buddy gave me.
105. WHAT ARE YOU GOING TO DO AFTER THIS SURVEY?
hit the clubs.
2.17.2007
we will lift you up
we will place you on your feet
sometimes I just want to tell everyone in the world to shut up.
sometimes I wish there wasn't a reason for me to cry.
but there is.
I wish the wrong people weren't looking over my shoulders all the time.
I don't want to talk about it.
I just wish it was better.
we will place you on your feet
sometimes I just want to tell everyone in the world to shut up.
sometimes I wish there wasn't a reason for me to cry.
but there is.
I wish the wrong people weren't looking over my shoulders all the time.
I don't want to talk about it.
I just wish it was better.
2.16.2007
I need to see the sea
well, I guess I should finish up the story of the power weekend, eh?
Monday morning I woke before Dan and went out and visited with Katie on her futon for a few minutes. It was nice, and peaceful, and the way Mondays should be but rarely are. Soon enough she left for work, and woke Dan right before she did, and there were hugs all around. He and I sat and talked and interneted and eventually wandered down to the Einstein's next to the Queen for breakfast. Lox and bagel never tasted so good.
We got back to the basement miracle/nightmare and packed the rest of our crap. Dan took a long time in the shower. It happens sometimes. We missed our bus to go down town, and I ended up calling Rob Drabkin, who picked us up and took us to the airport. That was fun. It was like being in the back of Mandy Sanders' Omni all over again, except that I was far more attracted to the driver this time. We all three talked home recording and gigs and gear.... I realized once again how much better it is to hang out with dudes. I've got to find some out here.
So then it was planey planey... we made it up to the gate right as they announced initial boarding. good grief, Dan and I couldn't talk enough. All day, through security, on the plane, in the Minneapolis airport at the TGI Fridays and on the people movers. It was the best kind of intense there is. We made it to our planes as the last boarding call was announced, and I literally ran to the end of the concourse to mine, getting my ticket scanned right before they closed the doors. Talk about last minute. Then I jogged back to my seat, pushed my backpack in the overhead bin (yay for not checking bags!), collapsed in my seat, and burst into tears. The lines from that one song on Brian's sampler echoed in my mind ... "What a year, it has been, what a year, it has been- lost my love, shed my skin, what a year, it has been." Transpose weekend and it was accurate, surely. I called Dan briefly, trying to hold it together, under the pretense of wanting to make sure he got on his flight ok. I knew he did, of course he did. I watched him over my shoulder until the wall got in the way as I jogged off towards my Indianapolis flight. But still, I called him- and I knew why- I just needed to hear his voice again. Even for a moment. I could tell he was a little confused, but I didn't care. He said words, and I just mumbled a response, afraid to trust my voice at even the most simplest of phrases. We hung up pretty quickly, and I slumped my head on the cool glass of the window, thankful that Minnesota would keep me in her heart if I did the same.
A couple of hours later, my pops picked me up in the big Buick and we headed home. He talked to me about a lot of stuff, mostly financial planning, but I will admit I mostly only heard buzzing in my ears. I looked at the clock, knowing that I worked in less than 8 hours. I exhaled. I closed my eyes. I smiled.
____________________________________________
(for a slideshow of the wedding, click here. yours truly is in a couple of shots, including a not bad one of buddy and I singing the processional. the other is of myself and Rob [who took Dan and I to the airport] enjoying our hair.)
Monday morning I woke before Dan and went out and visited with Katie on her futon for a few minutes. It was nice, and peaceful, and the way Mondays should be but rarely are. Soon enough she left for work, and woke Dan right before she did, and there were hugs all around. He and I sat and talked and interneted and eventually wandered down to the Einstein's next to the Queen for breakfast. Lox and bagel never tasted so good.
We got back to the basement miracle/nightmare and packed the rest of our crap. Dan took a long time in the shower. It happens sometimes. We missed our bus to go down town, and I ended up calling Rob Drabkin, who picked us up and took us to the airport. That was fun. It was like being in the back of Mandy Sanders' Omni all over again, except that I was far more attracted to the driver this time. We all three talked home recording and gigs and gear.... I realized once again how much better it is to hang out with dudes. I've got to find some out here.
So then it was planey planey... we made it up to the gate right as they announced initial boarding. good grief, Dan and I couldn't talk enough. All day, through security, on the plane, in the Minneapolis airport at the TGI Fridays and on the people movers. It was the best kind of intense there is. We made it to our planes as the last boarding call was announced, and I literally ran to the end of the concourse to mine, getting my ticket scanned right before they closed the doors. Talk about last minute. Then I jogged back to my seat, pushed my backpack in the overhead bin (yay for not checking bags!), collapsed in my seat, and burst into tears. The lines from that one song on Brian's sampler echoed in my mind ... "What a year, it has been, what a year, it has been- lost my love, shed my skin, what a year, it has been." Transpose weekend and it was accurate, surely. I called Dan briefly, trying to hold it together, under the pretense of wanting to make sure he got on his flight ok. I knew he did, of course he did. I watched him over my shoulder until the wall got in the way as I jogged off towards my Indianapolis flight. But still, I called him- and I knew why- I just needed to hear his voice again. Even for a moment. I could tell he was a little confused, but I didn't care. He said words, and I just mumbled a response, afraid to trust my voice at even the most simplest of phrases. We hung up pretty quickly, and I slumped my head on the cool glass of the window, thankful that Minnesota would keep me in her heart if I did the same.
A couple of hours later, my pops picked me up in the big Buick and we headed home. He talked to me about a lot of stuff, mostly financial planning, but I will admit I mostly only heard buzzing in my ears. I looked at the clock, knowing that I worked in less than 8 hours. I exhaled. I closed my eyes. I smiled.
____________________________________________
(for a slideshow of the wedding, click here. yours truly is in a couple of shots, including a not bad one of buddy and I singing the processional. the other is of myself and Rob [who took Dan and I to the airport] enjoying our hair.)
2.06.2007
I won't stop at the foothills
wedding time = Sunday. dun dun dun.
Dan and I woke up sans hangovers (woohoo, PTL) to Katie whispering over us that we had to leave for church in an hour. I was relieved to see that I had covers- the night before he had been a human loom and I was left with handfuls of sheet and little else. My boots had come the day before while we were in the Springs, so I showered and ironed and then slid my little legs into them. People. I don't know how I ever existed without knowing the blissful feeling of sheepskin nearly up to my knee. I never intend to go without it again.
Church was still about 90% good. Somewhere in there they went a little Flatiron-ey/megachurchey, with dumb looking programs and video clips of "Meet The Parents" halfway through the service. The building was so fab, and the speaking was so good, though, I quickly overlooked it. The music has suffered a little bit since I was there. Not to say it was Grandma McDonald playing the comb or anything, but world class musicians do leave you a little spoiled. Despite it's shortcomings, Pathways is still a nails church. If I could, I'd move back just to attend. And for all the other things that I love about CO.
We got back to Buddy's after the service and I ate leftovers from the night before and she and I started out by fighting over a trash can. Oddly appropriate, now that I think of the literary symbolism of it all... I should always plan my fights to be as illustrative. After long, very calm monologues from the both of us about how there was nothing left and we shouldn't be friends any longer (we both were in agreement, nobody had any reservations- this was a first), I started crying. Yes, non-teared Liza. You know when you know something is over, but it was such a beautiful, epochal, transformative thing that you can't help but cry for it anyway, to mourn it and almost honor it in a way? That's where I was at. If this was really over, I wanted to say everything like I meant it, because I knew there wouldn't be another chance. When you are staring the relationship of your life in the face and can see the death mask slide over tired eyes, its time to be honest. There are many things we have never been able to give each other that we have both needed. We won't ever be able to give each other those things. We are too much of who we are to be somebody else. But those different people have loved each other beyond human understanding so many times that the lacking seemed superfluous. If nothing else, Buddy taught me about selfless love.
So after the crying started, and the air was cleared, we decided to keep being friends anyway. The way I see it, we don't have a choice, really. When I try to describe our friendship to people, it usually ends up sounding very epic and grandiose, but I'm coming to realize that maybe it seems that way because that's how it actually is. Some things are out of our control. No matter how hard we try to destroy it, or enable it, or leer at it with indifference, or love it until our palms bleed, it will remain. This is the category I place our friendship in. And I've never had anything else to put in that category until now; it stands alone.
Well, that was slightly exhausting.
We rehearsed for a couple of moments, because Buddy had laryngitis or rickets or something and couldn't sing, and then packed up. Once again I found myself in the back of the Jeep on the way to Red Rocks, only this time I didn't interrupt. I vocalized for a little while to Patty and Sarah M., and then we were there, packing into a full parking lot and navigating the slushy/muddy faux parking lot to the little chapel. Everything was relaxed; we headed downstairs to a little green room and tuned guitars and met Luke Flowers. He was also well over six feet. Dan with his 6'6" business and Buddy in her heels at 6'2" and Luke all together made me feel like a midget. I was the shortest of all of them by a good six inches, and I'm not used to feeling small. It was fun. They're all ridiculously good looking people, too, so that was also fun.
We headed up to the sanctuary and set up the guitars and then Dan and I wandered outside from the side door which had been propped open. We threw snowballs at a nearby tree, and looked at the Rocks, and watched Shelly and Rodney have their wedding pictures taken. The other musicians showed up and went in the side door and also a lady with advanced MS and tremors came through that way. I thought about Scott briefly, then stopped myself. Dan and I talked idly about weddings and adoption and threw more snow. He pulled his pants up high to make me laugh. It worked. We smiled at each other in the sun and then moved back in to the building.
We squeezed into the pew next to Buddy and Luke, and then she and I got up for the processional. It didn't go half bad- my voice carried pretty well and I stayed in tune. Couldn't have asked for more on that end, really. I wish Buddy had been able to sing with me, though. It was still like easing back into a well-worn, favorite pair of pants to play with her, though. Despite a little glitch at the start of the song, we never looked at each other or faltered- playing with her is as easy as playing with myself.
When we returned to our seats, the little russian/eastern european man who had been playing the piano previously was sitting in our spot, pointedly ignoring us standing right over his shoulder. I waited a polite amount of time, then leaned over to ask him if he was going to remain there throughout the service. He replied, rather loudly, that these seats were assigned to him, and we should find our own seats. Russian ass. We sat down behind him and I seethed. Dan and I flew halfway across the country, I spent hundreds of dollars, and took time off work, so this jackass can tell me to find another seat. I muttered "Russian Ass" several times, more than loud enough for him to hear, to Buddy as we wedged our way into the pew behind him. I'm sure he heard me. I was glad. She tried to stifle her laughter, and mostly succeeded. I just reached up and squeezed Dan's shoulder a lot during the ceremony, and soon enough, it was over. Let me repeat to all of you- never get married there. Never. If you ever hear of anyone planning on getting married there, tell them not to do it. And scene.
The reception was fine, whatevs, and we saw Rob there. There was great food (PTL Shelly is a vegan) and so the five of us, Buddy, me, Dan, Luke, and Rob all kind of hung out. We stayed for a couple of hours, then moseyed after Rob played a couple of our requests. We figured, even if it wasn't our wedding reception, we had put up with a lot this day, and Shelly was too twitterpated to notice what tunes were jangling out over Rob's strings. After "Rise at Sea" and "She Comes And Goes," we scooted out the door, arms full of centerpieces and bellies full of polenta.
[as a brief aside, let me not fail to mention the old codger sitting across the table from us. Man, what a card. He kept ineptly bursting into our conversation, expecting us to relish his witty statements. except that they were devoid of wit. He grabbed one of the admittedly beautiful orchid centerpieces, stuffed some more orchids from a nearby one into it, and then shoved a small decorative picture frame in for good measure. he then sauntered off to find "his granddaughter" and I took the opportunity to put the diminuative set of salt and pepper shakers in his flowers, as well. If only he hadn't looked closely when he returned... he blamed it on "his granddaughter" and I thanked my lucky stars the kids around me had a background in theatre and could fake/choke/cough their way through the moment. he just seemed so intent on taking everything off the table he could, I thought I'd help him out a bit.]
Getting home was much easier than getting there; Buddy (who was leading with Luke) got us lost on the way to the reception several times. We got back to the apartment and danced around crazily for a while before falling into a heap on the bed, whereon Dan looked over at me and said, "Wanna go get f*cked up?" I knew he was referring to Buddy's unopened bottle of 100% agave Centenario tequila, which she had had for over a year. I nodded, a contented smile appearing on my lips. About four shots in we were interrupted by a phone party. Dan disappeared into the bathroom for a while, Buddy's buddhist faux-boyfriend who overreacts and is a horrible kisser called her and she slipped out to the entryway, so I took the opportunity to call the only logical person in the world: Kati Hultman. To be honest, it was a call back since I had called her the day before (was it only the day before?) when I was so mad I couldn't see straight. She had returned my call the previous evening, but I believe at the time I was drunk and laying on a table in the Ancient Mariner with Dan, looking at the ceiling. So I returned her call, and we talked for a while, and I was amazed at how lucid I felt. The phone party ended and Dan and I took up where we left off, slamming a couple more and taking a few additionals with cranberry juice mixed in. whoooo things got pretty loose then.
Buddy left for her futon-bed and Dan and I cozied down in the down comforter and had ourselves a talk. Boy, did we have ourselves a talk. What happens in Buddy's bed stays in Buddy's bed, and that's all you're going to get from me on the subject, but let me just declare to you all now- there is nothing finer than unabashed honesty and loosing of secrets with someone you love. There is no kind of high, physical, emotional, or spiritual more transcendent than that. Some smart person once said, "You shall know the truth, and the truth shall set you free." They weren't kidding. With a warm glow in my belly and a ridiculous smile plastered across my face, I drifted off to a thousand golden dreams.
Dan and I woke up sans hangovers (woohoo, PTL) to Katie whispering over us that we had to leave for church in an hour. I was relieved to see that I had covers- the night before he had been a human loom and I was left with handfuls of sheet and little else. My boots had come the day before while we were in the Springs, so I showered and ironed and then slid my little legs into them. People. I don't know how I ever existed without knowing the blissful feeling of sheepskin nearly up to my knee. I never intend to go without it again.
Church was still about 90% good. Somewhere in there they went a little Flatiron-ey/megachurchey, with dumb looking programs and video clips of "Meet The Parents" halfway through the service. The building was so fab, and the speaking was so good, though, I quickly overlooked it. The music has suffered a little bit since I was there. Not to say it was Grandma McDonald playing the comb or anything, but world class musicians do leave you a little spoiled. Despite it's shortcomings, Pathways is still a nails church. If I could, I'd move back just to attend. And for all the other things that I love about CO.
We got back to Buddy's after the service and I ate leftovers from the night before and she and I started out by fighting over a trash can. Oddly appropriate, now that I think of the literary symbolism of it all... I should always plan my fights to be as illustrative. After long, very calm monologues from the both of us about how there was nothing left and we shouldn't be friends any longer (we both were in agreement, nobody had any reservations- this was a first), I started crying. Yes, non-teared Liza. You know when you know something is over, but it was such a beautiful, epochal, transformative thing that you can't help but cry for it anyway, to mourn it and almost honor it in a way? That's where I was at. If this was really over, I wanted to say everything like I meant it, because I knew there wouldn't be another chance. When you are staring the relationship of your life in the face and can see the death mask slide over tired eyes, its time to be honest. There are many things we have never been able to give each other that we have both needed. We won't ever be able to give each other those things. We are too much of who we are to be somebody else. But those different people have loved each other beyond human understanding so many times that the lacking seemed superfluous. If nothing else, Buddy taught me about selfless love.
So after the crying started, and the air was cleared, we decided to keep being friends anyway. The way I see it, we don't have a choice, really. When I try to describe our friendship to people, it usually ends up sounding very epic and grandiose, but I'm coming to realize that maybe it seems that way because that's how it actually is. Some things are out of our control. No matter how hard we try to destroy it, or enable it, or leer at it with indifference, or love it until our palms bleed, it will remain. This is the category I place our friendship in. And I've never had anything else to put in that category until now; it stands alone.
Well, that was slightly exhausting.
We rehearsed for a couple of moments, because Buddy had laryngitis or rickets or something and couldn't sing, and then packed up. Once again I found myself in the back of the Jeep on the way to Red Rocks, only this time I didn't interrupt. I vocalized for a little while to Patty and Sarah M., and then we were there, packing into a full parking lot and navigating the slushy/muddy faux parking lot to the little chapel. Everything was relaxed; we headed downstairs to a little green room and tuned guitars and met Luke Flowers. He was also well over six feet. Dan with his 6'6" business and Buddy in her heels at 6'2" and Luke all together made me feel like a midget. I was the shortest of all of them by a good six inches, and I'm not used to feeling small. It was fun. They're all ridiculously good looking people, too, so that was also fun.
We headed up to the sanctuary and set up the guitars and then Dan and I wandered outside from the side door which had been propped open. We threw snowballs at a nearby tree, and looked at the Rocks, and watched Shelly and Rodney have their wedding pictures taken. The other musicians showed up and went in the side door and also a lady with advanced MS and tremors came through that way. I thought about Scott briefly, then stopped myself. Dan and I talked idly about weddings and adoption and threw more snow. He pulled his pants up high to make me laugh. It worked. We smiled at each other in the sun and then moved back in to the building.
We squeezed into the pew next to Buddy and Luke, and then she and I got up for the processional. It didn't go half bad- my voice carried pretty well and I stayed in tune. Couldn't have asked for more on that end, really. I wish Buddy had been able to sing with me, though. It was still like easing back into a well-worn, favorite pair of pants to play with her, though. Despite a little glitch at the start of the song, we never looked at each other or faltered- playing with her is as easy as playing with myself.
When we returned to our seats, the little russian/eastern european man who had been playing the piano previously was sitting in our spot, pointedly ignoring us standing right over his shoulder. I waited a polite amount of time, then leaned over to ask him if he was going to remain there throughout the service. He replied, rather loudly, that these seats were assigned to him, and we should find our own seats. Russian ass. We sat down behind him and I seethed. Dan and I flew halfway across the country, I spent hundreds of dollars, and took time off work, so this jackass can tell me to find another seat. I muttered "Russian Ass" several times, more than loud enough for him to hear, to Buddy as we wedged our way into the pew behind him. I'm sure he heard me. I was glad. She tried to stifle her laughter, and mostly succeeded. I just reached up and squeezed Dan's shoulder a lot during the ceremony, and soon enough, it was over. Let me repeat to all of you- never get married there. Never. If you ever hear of anyone planning on getting married there, tell them not to do it. And scene.
The reception was fine, whatevs, and we saw Rob there. There was great food (PTL Shelly is a vegan) and so the five of us, Buddy, me, Dan, Luke, and Rob all kind of hung out. We stayed for a couple of hours, then moseyed after Rob played a couple of our requests. We figured, even if it wasn't our wedding reception, we had put up with a lot this day, and Shelly was too twitterpated to notice what tunes were jangling out over Rob's strings. After "Rise at Sea" and "She Comes And Goes," we scooted out the door, arms full of centerpieces and bellies full of polenta.
[as a brief aside, let me not fail to mention the old codger sitting across the table from us. Man, what a card. He kept ineptly bursting into our conversation, expecting us to relish his witty statements. except that they were devoid of wit. He grabbed one of the admittedly beautiful orchid centerpieces, stuffed some more orchids from a nearby one into it, and then shoved a small decorative picture frame in for good measure. he then sauntered off to find "his granddaughter" and I took the opportunity to put the diminuative set of salt and pepper shakers in his flowers, as well. If only he hadn't looked closely when he returned... he blamed it on "his granddaughter" and I thanked my lucky stars the kids around me had a background in theatre and could fake/choke/cough their way through the moment. he just seemed so intent on taking everything off the table he could, I thought I'd help him out a bit.]
Getting home was much easier than getting there; Buddy (who was leading with Luke) got us lost on the way to the reception several times. We got back to the apartment and danced around crazily for a while before falling into a heap on the bed, whereon Dan looked over at me and said, "Wanna go get f*cked up?" I knew he was referring to Buddy's unopened bottle of 100% agave Centenario tequila, which she had had for over a year. I nodded, a contented smile appearing on my lips. About four shots in we were interrupted by a phone party. Dan disappeared into the bathroom for a while, Buddy's buddhist faux-boyfriend who overreacts and is a horrible kisser called her and she slipped out to the entryway, so I took the opportunity to call the only logical person in the world: Kati Hultman. To be honest, it was a call back since I had called her the day before (was it only the day before?) when I was so mad I couldn't see straight. She had returned my call the previous evening, but I believe at the time I was drunk and laying on a table in the Ancient Mariner with Dan, looking at the ceiling. So I returned her call, and we talked for a while, and I was amazed at how lucid I felt. The phone party ended and Dan and I took up where we left off, slamming a couple more and taking a few additionals with cranberry juice mixed in. whoooo things got pretty loose then.
Buddy left for her futon-bed and Dan and I cozied down in the down comforter and had ourselves a talk. Boy, did we have ourselves a talk. What happens in Buddy's bed stays in Buddy's bed, and that's all you're going to get from me on the subject, but let me just declare to you all now- there is nothing finer than unabashed honesty and loosing of secrets with someone you love. There is no kind of high, physical, emotional, or spiritual more transcendent than that. Some smart person once said, "You shall know the truth, and the truth shall set you free." They weren't kidding. With a warm glow in my belly and a ridiculous smile plastered across my face, I drifted off to a thousand golden dreams.
2.01.2007
making my way west
Saturday.
Buddy and I were at odds most of the day, through no amount of innocence on either side. I stormed off to the Queen early, armed with a BOGO coupon. I met Chris in the alleyway; she seemed to have forgotten all of our ill-timed run ins from the previous year, and seemed genuinely glad to see me. (as an aside, I forgot to mention that I saw Brooke the night before. she looked slick, man, slick.) I was angry. I mention this because I so rarely get that angry, I think I can only remember one other time in the last ten years. Fairly monumental. I sloshed along in my Earth shoes, the same ones that brought Shelly and I together two years ago, with a late arrival and a whisper in the back of a massage therapy classroom. The soles are coming apart on them now, and I had scarcely gone ten paces before my heavy wool socks were already damp. Ah well. Might as well be uncomfortable all the way around.
When I got back, I demanded and got Buddy's Jeep, and wasted 45 minutes driving around town aimlessly looking for an open bank. Cashless, I returned and gathered Dan before we headed out for our day. Buddy stayed home, in bed.
We had left earlier than planned, so showed up at Brian's before he and Katie got home from collecting a wine chiller mini fridge. Brian is a wine afficianado, and his girlfriend Katie is a happy enabler. He has quite the impromptu wine cellar in his basement, one that I am always glad of when visiting, and this trip was certainly no disappointment- they honored Dan and I (and Katie's dad, who was helping them with the cooler) with a ridiculous spread including 4 types of cheeses, marinated artichoke, bruschetta, a cracker plate, and of course 2 different bottles of wine. I only allowed myself two glasses as I would be driving us down to the Springs in a few hours, but Dan loaded up. A sly wink passed back and forth assured the both of us that my turn would come.
After a few, happy hours with them it was time to head out. I had to use the restroom before we left, at the same time as Dan, and Katie told him to go ahead, that "Liza's bathroom is upstairs." It got a real, genuine smile out of me for the first time that day. Even after all these months, I knew I belonged. Let me tell you, friends, when you find this feeling, don't let it go.
Hugs and waves exchanged, Dan and I folded ourselves back into Buddy's Jeep and headed down to the Springs. Despite being overcast, he was still able to get a pretty good view of the foothills. I had fun pointing things out on the way down- Castle Rock and the geological formation that gives it its name, Monument Pass, and the like. I didn't even bother with the Air Force Academy or New Life Church- despite visibility being too poor to actually see them from the roadway, I didn't care. We had a long, awkward, and good conversation on the way down, clearing the air for me a bit. I discover a little more all the time that I really like talking to that kid. He's a great listener. (Once again, when you find these, don't let them go... they are rare.)
I brought him into town on Garden of The Gods road, and then drove him through GOG itself. It was just on the darker side of twilight, and gorgeous out. Despite the chill I lowered my window. Things seem more tangible when there's not glass in between. Dan muttered for a moment about the beauty, then we both fell silent. Sometimes words don't do things justice. After completing a circuit of the park, we snuck up on the west side of the Springs from behind and found ourselves in the company of one McDavid, which thrilled me to no end. We headed over to Adams, and as Dan and she quickly fell in love with each other over the best organic food on either side of the Mississippi, I took a fond look around. In just three days time, the restaurant would be moving over to the newly renovated/restored Spa building in the center of town. There were already evident changes- the weird, busy wallpaper had been pulled up and the walls had been painted. The smell was the same, though, and Lucci and Sam were both working. I got hugs all around, and as always they came and sat at our table for long moments, ignoring other customers and catching up. I love those girls. I got to sing Sam her song one more time, and she smiled and laughed at me just the way she always did. And of course, as Dan dubbed her, "Old Farl" had to show up. I swear the claw-handed woman has some sort of sensor-- Liza's down at Adams. Must go. Must have awkward moment where we face off and then provide 15 second long non-sequiter conversation. Check.
So a couple of hours later (not that it wasn't it's own illustrative point, but I did talk to Dan about the "slow food" movement), we left with little boxes. Mine said, "Do it effectively do it" on the top, and McDavid, who wanted a slightly more menacing message to ward off unwanted eaters, had a variety of saying scrawled upon it. "Poison, posion. Scary feminine stuff. Placenta sauteed in man juice. Do not eat. Posson."
We sauntered back over to the Jeep, much fuller (and a little drunker, we did in fact split a bottle of organic Ladybug red table wine) and whipped that sucker around to Manitou Ave, and went into the Ancient Mariner where we had some more drinks and played a rather forgettable game of pool. I remember Dan lost both times. (the first we didn't count as an actual game, because all he did when he tried to break was shoot the cue ball into the nearest pocket. did I mention we were drinking?) I rubbed his shoulders for a moment, and a man who would have been absolutely creepy anywhere else but was perfectly normal in Manitou came up and asked me if I could work on him next. Sure. He plopped down and groaned for about five while I dug into his right shoulder. He had a pearl earring and a great, shaggy head of gray hair, racing down to meet a teal flannel shirt. He had a nice ring, too. Finally Dan saved me by leaning close to him and saying rather loudly, "Think you can sleep on that, now?" (his original complaint is that he couldn't sleep.) Yes, we are the smoothest operators in the known world. Still, I shot Dan a grateful smile and bucko thanked me heartily before stumbling off.
After I finished my Fat Tire (booyah!) and Shelly showed up, we shoved off. We dropped McDavid off and there were hugs and love all around. Dan looked at me accusatorily, wagging his finger and telling me I shouldn't have kept all these lovely people from him for so long. I just shrugged. He was to drive back up to Denver, so I gave him some rudimentary directions and dozed off, content to leave him in charge of transportation. I woke up to a hand squeeze at the Lincoln Ave exit, and gave him sleepy but followable instructions back to Buddy's. It was just after midnight, and we stumbled in her apartment to find her sleeping on the futon in the entryway. After quick tooth brushing, I tumbled into bed, falling back to sleep before Dan could get out of the shower.
Buddy and I were at odds most of the day, through no amount of innocence on either side. I stormed off to the Queen early, armed with a BOGO coupon. I met Chris in the alleyway; she seemed to have forgotten all of our ill-timed run ins from the previous year, and seemed genuinely glad to see me. (as an aside, I forgot to mention that I saw Brooke the night before. she looked slick, man, slick.) I was angry. I mention this because I so rarely get that angry, I think I can only remember one other time in the last ten years. Fairly monumental. I sloshed along in my Earth shoes, the same ones that brought Shelly and I together two years ago, with a late arrival and a whisper in the back of a massage therapy classroom. The soles are coming apart on them now, and I had scarcely gone ten paces before my heavy wool socks were already damp. Ah well. Might as well be uncomfortable all the way around.
When I got back, I demanded and got Buddy's Jeep, and wasted 45 minutes driving around town aimlessly looking for an open bank. Cashless, I returned and gathered Dan before we headed out for our day. Buddy stayed home, in bed.
We had left earlier than planned, so showed up at Brian's before he and Katie got home from collecting a wine chiller mini fridge. Brian is a wine afficianado, and his girlfriend Katie is a happy enabler. He has quite the impromptu wine cellar in his basement, one that I am always glad of when visiting, and this trip was certainly no disappointment- they honored Dan and I (and Katie's dad, who was helping them with the cooler) with a ridiculous spread including 4 types of cheeses, marinated artichoke, bruschetta, a cracker plate, and of course 2 different bottles of wine. I only allowed myself two glasses as I would be driving us down to the Springs in a few hours, but Dan loaded up. A sly wink passed back and forth assured the both of us that my turn would come.
After a few, happy hours with them it was time to head out. I had to use the restroom before we left, at the same time as Dan, and Katie told him to go ahead, that "Liza's bathroom is upstairs." It got a real, genuine smile out of me for the first time that day. Even after all these months, I knew I belonged. Let me tell you, friends, when you find this feeling, don't let it go.
Hugs and waves exchanged, Dan and I folded ourselves back into Buddy's Jeep and headed down to the Springs. Despite being overcast, he was still able to get a pretty good view of the foothills. I had fun pointing things out on the way down- Castle Rock and the geological formation that gives it its name, Monument Pass, and the like. I didn't even bother with the Air Force Academy or New Life Church- despite visibility being too poor to actually see them from the roadway, I didn't care. We had a long, awkward, and good conversation on the way down, clearing the air for me a bit. I discover a little more all the time that I really like talking to that kid. He's a great listener. (Once again, when you find these, don't let them go... they are rare.)
I brought him into town on Garden of The Gods road, and then drove him through GOG itself. It was just on the darker side of twilight, and gorgeous out. Despite the chill I lowered my window. Things seem more tangible when there's not glass in between. Dan muttered for a moment about the beauty, then we both fell silent. Sometimes words don't do things justice. After completing a circuit of the park, we snuck up on the west side of the Springs from behind and found ourselves in the company of one McDavid, which thrilled me to no end. We headed over to Adams, and as Dan and she quickly fell in love with each other over the best organic food on either side of the Mississippi, I took a fond look around. In just three days time, the restaurant would be moving over to the newly renovated/restored Spa building in the center of town. There were already evident changes- the weird, busy wallpaper had been pulled up and the walls had been painted. The smell was the same, though, and Lucci and Sam were both working. I got hugs all around, and as always they came and sat at our table for long moments, ignoring other customers and catching up. I love those girls. I got to sing Sam her song one more time, and she smiled and laughed at me just the way she always did. And of course, as Dan dubbed her, "Old Farl" had to show up. I swear the claw-handed woman has some sort of sensor-- Liza's down at Adams. Must go. Must have awkward moment where we face off and then provide 15 second long non-sequiter conversation. Check.
So a couple of hours later (not that it wasn't it's own illustrative point, but I did talk to Dan about the "slow food" movement), we left with little boxes. Mine said, "Do it effectively do it" on the top, and McDavid, who wanted a slightly more menacing message to ward off unwanted eaters, had a variety of saying scrawled upon it. "Poison, posion. Scary feminine stuff. Placenta sauteed in man juice. Do not eat. Posson."
We sauntered back over to the Jeep, much fuller (and a little drunker, we did in fact split a bottle of organic Ladybug red table wine) and whipped that sucker around to Manitou Ave, and went into the Ancient Mariner where we had some more drinks and played a rather forgettable game of pool. I remember Dan lost both times. (the first we didn't count as an actual game, because all he did when he tried to break was shoot the cue ball into the nearest pocket. did I mention we were drinking?) I rubbed his shoulders for a moment, and a man who would have been absolutely creepy anywhere else but was perfectly normal in Manitou came up and asked me if I could work on him next. Sure. He plopped down and groaned for about five while I dug into his right shoulder. He had a pearl earring and a great, shaggy head of gray hair, racing down to meet a teal flannel shirt. He had a nice ring, too. Finally Dan saved me by leaning close to him and saying rather loudly, "Think you can sleep on that, now?" (his original complaint is that he couldn't sleep.) Yes, we are the smoothest operators in the known world. Still, I shot Dan a grateful smile and bucko thanked me heartily before stumbling off.
After I finished my Fat Tire (booyah!) and Shelly showed up, we shoved off. We dropped McDavid off and there were hugs and love all around. Dan looked at me accusatorily, wagging his finger and telling me I shouldn't have kept all these lovely people from him for so long. I just shrugged. He was to drive back up to Denver, so I gave him some rudimentary directions and dozed off, content to leave him in charge of transportation. I woke up to a hand squeeze at the Lincoln Ave exit, and gave him sleepy but followable instructions back to Buddy's. It was just after midnight, and we stumbled in her apartment to find her sleeping on the futon in the entryway. After quick tooth brushing, I tumbled into bed, falling back to sleep before Dan could get out of the shower.
1.31.2007
I am a covered wagon
So, I took a trip last weekend.
Once again I found myself stuffed into a plane seat- not an unpleasant experience, surely- I love to fly. I think maybe I'm going to start requesting the emergency row seats, though. They looked a little bit roomier. Especially if I fly with Dan again; I met up with him in Minneapolis and we shared the last leg of our flight together. All six foot six of him gladly sat in the middle seat for me so I could have the window (my favorite) and we could be together. Have I mentioned that he is a gem? Well, I will. He is a gem.
The flights out were about as uneventful as you can get- no memorable turbulence, and slightly ahead of schedule on both counts. Buddy was waiting for us on the other end, looking gorgeous as always, and skinny as always. Some things never change. She had washed her car for us, and I'll admit I felt very swank loading in and driving out of DIA with the two of them. All I have to say is, PTL for mountains. Why does my heart feel lighter when I see that skyline? Why do I feel like I'm coming home, when everything out there was anything but easy? Perhaps, as I communicated to Dan later that weekend, it was because I figured a lot of things out about myself while I was out there, and because I failed a lot. I'm not used to doing the latter, and hadn't (apparently) done much of the former... in all honesty, it makes you feel like a bigger person. I like being a bigger person.
So, we immediately drove out to Red Rocks from DIA, because Shelly's dress rehearsal was there at the Chapel (where she would get married Sunday). Let me tell anyone reading this, if you are ever so inclined, NEVER get married there. The wedding coordinator was a complete alpha Bitch, making Shelly cry on several occasions. They forced her to use at least two of their musicians, which cost $500 a piece... which she told me was a combined total of more than the chapel itself. And the musicians were total assholes, rude and disruptive to the ceremony... whew. Anyway, more on that later. But don't get married there.
Shelly looked great. I sang the processional, and Buddy played keys while I played her gorgeous guitar. I met Shelly's new stepkids briefly, man what beautiful little creatures. They were well behaved, attentive, and affectionate with her. I should have looked for power switches on them. Did I mention that they were cute? I exchanged a couple of words with Dude that Shelly's marrying, nope, don't know him any better than before I exchanged a couple of words. Sometimes, you just have to trust that your friends are doing the right thing, because there's definitely nothing else accompanying your support than faith. I must say in all of this, however, that the place was gorgeous. Well, not the chapel so much itself, it was sort of plain and boxy, but the front of it opened up to a view of Red Rocks itself that was, I must say, quite pleasing. Dan got to stand in for a groomsman that failed to show up (how does that work? isn't that what a rehearsal is for? doesn't everyone have to be there?) and escort the maid of honor down the aisle. She was a little shorty, and reaching up to grasp his arm was definitely the same height as grasping an oh-shit bar in a car for her. One of my favorite things of the day.
We then drove around Red Rocks for a bit, and after an aborted attempt to see the amphitheatre itself (the walkways were closed due to being ice-floes) we headed back towards town. Dan got to see Buddy's basement apartment briefly before we went to Thai Basil and gorged ourselves. That would happen a lot over the weekend. After a delightful dinner, wherein the mounting tension between Buddy and I was broken through about a ten-minute laugh festival due to something wonderfully idiosyncratic she said, we drove back to her apartment and collapsed on the bed.
That was pretty much the first day.
Once again I found myself stuffed into a plane seat- not an unpleasant experience, surely- I love to fly. I think maybe I'm going to start requesting the emergency row seats, though. They looked a little bit roomier. Especially if I fly with Dan again; I met up with him in Minneapolis and we shared the last leg of our flight together. All six foot six of him gladly sat in the middle seat for me so I could have the window (my favorite) and we could be together. Have I mentioned that he is a gem? Well, I will. He is a gem.
The flights out were about as uneventful as you can get- no memorable turbulence, and slightly ahead of schedule on both counts. Buddy was waiting for us on the other end, looking gorgeous as always, and skinny as always. Some things never change. She had washed her car for us, and I'll admit I felt very swank loading in and driving out of DIA with the two of them. All I have to say is, PTL for mountains. Why does my heart feel lighter when I see that skyline? Why do I feel like I'm coming home, when everything out there was anything but easy? Perhaps, as I communicated to Dan later that weekend, it was because I figured a lot of things out about myself while I was out there, and because I failed a lot. I'm not used to doing the latter, and hadn't (apparently) done much of the former... in all honesty, it makes you feel like a bigger person. I like being a bigger person.
So, we immediately drove out to Red Rocks from DIA, because Shelly's dress rehearsal was there at the Chapel (where she would get married Sunday). Let me tell anyone reading this, if you are ever so inclined, NEVER get married there. The wedding coordinator was a complete alpha Bitch, making Shelly cry on several occasions. They forced her to use at least two of their musicians, which cost $500 a piece... which she told me was a combined total of more than the chapel itself. And the musicians were total assholes, rude and disruptive to the ceremony... whew. Anyway, more on that later. But don't get married there.
Shelly looked great. I sang the processional, and Buddy played keys while I played her gorgeous guitar. I met Shelly's new stepkids briefly, man what beautiful little creatures. They were well behaved, attentive, and affectionate with her. I should have looked for power switches on them. Did I mention that they were cute? I exchanged a couple of words with Dude that Shelly's marrying, nope, don't know him any better than before I exchanged a couple of words. Sometimes, you just have to trust that your friends are doing the right thing, because there's definitely nothing else accompanying your support than faith. I must say in all of this, however, that the place was gorgeous. Well, not the chapel so much itself, it was sort of plain and boxy, but the front of it opened up to a view of Red Rocks itself that was, I must say, quite pleasing. Dan got to stand in for a groomsman that failed to show up (how does that work? isn't that what a rehearsal is for? doesn't everyone have to be there?) and escort the maid of honor down the aisle. She was a little shorty, and reaching up to grasp his arm was definitely the same height as grasping an oh-shit bar in a car for her. One of my favorite things of the day.
We then drove around Red Rocks for a bit, and after an aborted attempt to see the amphitheatre itself (the walkways were closed due to being ice-floes) we headed back towards town. Dan got to see Buddy's basement apartment briefly before we went to Thai Basil and gorged ourselves. That would happen a lot over the weekend. After a delightful dinner, wherein the mounting tension between Buddy and I was broken through about a ten-minute laugh festival due to something wonderfully idiosyncratic she said, we drove back to her apartment and collapsed on the bed.
That was pretty much the first day.
1.25.2007
liars lack
sorry about my sporadic posting over here. I've been using the myspace blog pretty frequently- it helps out with issues mentioned in my last post because you have to be a member to read the blogs there. ;0
oh, I am so sneaky, sneaky.
I'm planning on going out west tomorrow for my friend Shelly's wedding- yes, the same one with whom I went through my massage program. At the same moment, I hear news from other friends who may be divorcing, and I just want to tell Shell not to bother. I guess it shouldn't affect me like it does, but I care about people, and despite myself, I find myself caring about marriage, too. I've never done it. The longer time goes on, the less I think I will (and believe me, I'm more than ok with that) but I still have the institution up on a pedestal... and I don't really want to apologize for that. I don't feel at all comfortable listening to people bash gay marriage when 1 out of 2 marriages (in or out of the church) end in divorce. All my close friends that have divorced/may divorce were in the church. I'm not blaming them (I want you to know this, I'm not blaming you). It's just where we're at, I guess.
I want to support everyone, and for everyone to be happy. I don't want to run other people's lives, or tell them what to do, or be anything but a peacemaker. I suppose some might think this makes me a bad Christian. I like to think it makes me a good one.
oh, I am so sneaky, sneaky.
I'm planning on going out west tomorrow for my friend Shelly's wedding- yes, the same one with whom I went through my massage program. At the same moment, I hear news from other friends who may be divorcing, and I just want to tell Shell not to bother. I guess it shouldn't affect me like it does, but I care about people, and despite myself, I find myself caring about marriage, too. I've never done it. The longer time goes on, the less I think I will (and believe me, I'm more than ok with that) but I still have the institution up on a pedestal... and I don't really want to apologize for that. I don't feel at all comfortable listening to people bash gay marriage when 1 out of 2 marriages (in or out of the church) end in divorce. All my close friends that have divorced/may divorce were in the church. I'm not blaming them (I want you to know this, I'm not blaming you). It's just where we're at, I guess.
I want to support everyone, and for everyone to be happy. I don't want to run other people's lives, or tell them what to do, or be anything but a peacemaker. I suppose some might think this makes me a bad Christian. I like to think it makes me a good one.
1.02.2007
I just died in your arms tonight
For whatever reason, the theme so far of 2007 is that I can't stop listening to 80's music.
resolutions this year-
no fried foods
no beer
no caffeine.
ah yes, this gives me loopholes- like fast food that isn't fried... wait, that's not a loophole. there's nothing left. wendy's salads. that's it. and cups of beans at Taco Bell. I knew I had something to look forward to. and I can still have wine. and mixers. and sake.... sushi is definitely something that needs to be in my diet with greater frequency this year. jones cream soda is the only answer I have for that last item on my list- coupled with mate, of course, for those 3-hour-o-sleep nights.
ahhhh, to be young again.
ok, so I have a little beef before we get out of the gate here. I've been a blogger for over two years here, but I will erase this thing and change my address if you people who are reading this and then harassing my parents don't stop in your tracks. you know who you are. there is a comments option at the bottom of every post. do you have a comment? use it. do you have a question? use it. every person I am talking to right now has my number, I know it for a fact. I'm not using your name or place in my life out of respect to you- something that obviously isn't returned because you won't respect me enough to come to me directly when you are "concerned" about something. it feels creepy and weird to know that people are poking around here, never announcing their presence, and then completely twisting things I say and use them out of context to harass me and my family. so knock it off.
as a side note, if you have no idea what I'm talking about, thanks for being a faithful reader.
much love to you and yours this 2007, and let's kick out some jams.
peace.
resolutions this year-
no fried foods
no beer
no caffeine.
ah yes, this gives me loopholes- like fast food that isn't fried... wait, that's not a loophole. there's nothing left. wendy's salads. that's it. and cups of beans at Taco Bell. I knew I had something to look forward to. and I can still have wine. and mixers. and sake.... sushi is definitely something that needs to be in my diet with greater frequency this year. jones cream soda is the only answer I have for that last item on my list- coupled with mate, of course, for those 3-hour-o-sleep nights.
ahhhh, to be young again.
ok, so I have a little beef before we get out of the gate here. I've been a blogger for over two years here, but I will erase this thing and change my address if you people who are reading this and then harassing my parents don't stop in your tracks. you know who you are. there is a comments option at the bottom of every post. do you have a comment? use it. do you have a question? use it. every person I am talking to right now has my number, I know it for a fact. I'm not using your name or place in my life out of respect to you- something that obviously isn't returned because you won't respect me enough to come to me directly when you are "concerned" about something. it feels creepy and weird to know that people are poking around here, never announcing their presence, and then completely twisting things I say and use them out of context to harass me and my family. so knock it off.
as a side note, if you have no idea what I'm talking about, thanks for being a faithful reader.
much love to you and yours this 2007, and let's kick out some jams.
peace.
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