This year, I think I'm really going to feel Christmas in my bones, and not let it pass me by.
I've been listening to lots of good music, mostly the Postal Service lately, cranked loud enough to deafen me in my still-wearing-an-old-starter troops. I feel like a little gay boy, like all I need is a white Jetta and to be cruising around some metro some where, answering a vibrating cell phone and smoking menthol cigarettes. But I've also been listening to James Blunt, who kind of sounds like elton john and t-rex's love child, in the best way possible. And I listened to that one song I hate this morning, the one about "goodbye my lover" or some such trash, and I didn't hate it at all. I even sang along. And speaking of singing along, I bought Rachmaninov's Vespers and have been listening to Bogoroditse Devo at all levels of volume, remembering when Katie was alive and we all sang it together and you could palpably feel the Spirit of God descending on us all.
I got really scared last Sunday when I thought about Miss Kobelski for a minute and couldn't remember what she looked like. It almost made me cry, I think if I had been a crier I would have. I don't want to forget what she looks like, ever. I want to remember every little detail about her face and hugs and voice and how she walked and her laugh and the way she died. But already how her hair was cut and very specific things get fuzzy in my mind, and it makes me a little sick.
***
At the moment when you stop holding on to things is sometimes the right moment for you to let them go, or the right moment for them to come back to you. And you can never really tell which one it is until after you've stopped holding, and it all actually happens. But I am okay with taking it as it comes for a while, and seeing what happens. What happens with work, and Buddy, and my car, and Mr. Reilly. It's all good to me.
11.29.2005
11.26.2005
jumping out, standing up, sitting still
Happy belated thanksgiving!
Well, mine was good, bad, and ugly. I should have known just to go back to bed following what will hereafter be known as the Einstein incident of 2005. I went in to pick up an application for temporary work, and the dude-with-bad-teeth behind the counter asked if the app was for me. I looked at him dumbly and said yes. And he said, well, he wasn't sure because a lot of women had been coming in for applications for their kids.
I AM 23 YEARS OLD.
So even if I had turned into a fornication station at the first available opportunity, I'd have a nine year old applying to sell toasted bagels on the corner of 9th and Ogden. NO! Idiots.
SO that was how the whole thing took off. And then there was eating, and uninvited trips to DIA, and trucks once again failing to start, and drunken fights, and getting hit on by irish dudes, and lots of ruined broccoli salad eaten by wild dogs. On the whole, it was a pretty legendary holiday.
Other good things include finding out finally that it is really my starter that is bad. Really, Brakes Plus. You had the car for a whole 24 hours and all you can do is pick your nose and tell me you don't know what's wrong with it. And I go out and bang on the starter with my tire iron and drive it down to Advance Auto Parts on east Colfax and they bring their little grocery-cart tester out to the troops and tell me in 5 MINUTES that it's the starter. And they were free. And then I paid 144 dollars for a starter. And Stephanie's Jason is going to come install it Sunday, compliments of a couple of massages from me. Cheap city, people! And I am the mayor. And the key to my truck is the key to the city. cheap, cheap, cheap. I sound like a baby chicken!
And, even though I thought I was going to sell tools for a living, turns out maybe I'm just going to be a massage therapist. Wild Oats wants me, and so does Duane and Tatum and Enrique. And Matt (irish dude) is starting up a non profit, and you better believe he wants me. (*wink*) maybe things are starting to look up after all.
Well, mine was good, bad, and ugly. I should have known just to go back to bed following what will hereafter be known as the Einstein incident of 2005. I went in to pick up an application for temporary work, and the dude-with-bad-teeth behind the counter asked if the app was for me. I looked at him dumbly and said yes. And he said, well, he wasn't sure because a lot of women had been coming in for applications for their kids.
I AM 23 YEARS OLD.
So even if I had turned into a fornication station at the first available opportunity, I'd have a nine year old applying to sell toasted bagels on the corner of 9th and Ogden. NO! Idiots.
SO that was how the whole thing took off. And then there was eating, and uninvited trips to DIA, and trucks once again failing to start, and drunken fights, and getting hit on by irish dudes, and lots of ruined broccoli salad eaten by wild dogs. On the whole, it was a pretty legendary holiday.
Other good things include finding out finally that it is really my starter that is bad. Really, Brakes Plus. You had the car for a whole 24 hours and all you can do is pick your nose and tell me you don't know what's wrong with it. And I go out and bang on the starter with my tire iron and drive it down to Advance Auto Parts on east Colfax and they bring their little grocery-cart tester out to the troops and tell me in 5 MINUTES that it's the starter. And they were free. And then I paid 144 dollars for a starter. And Stephanie's Jason is going to come install it Sunday, compliments of a couple of massages from me. Cheap city, people! And I am the mayor. And the key to my truck is the key to the city. cheap, cheap, cheap. I sound like a baby chicken!
And, even though I thought I was going to sell tools for a living, turns out maybe I'm just going to be a massage therapist. Wild Oats wants me, and so does Duane and Tatum and Enrique. And Matt (irish dude) is starting up a non profit, and you better believe he wants me. (*wink*) maybe things are starting to look up after all.
11.22.2005
Only in the mitten
This is when I remember why I love Michigan. The following was pulled from Yahoo! News.
High School Student Sworn in as Mayor
HILLSDALE, Mich. - Michael Sessions began talking about running for mayor when he was a sophomore in high school. He realized that dream before he got his diploma.
Sessions, an 18-year-old senior, became the city's youngest mayor on Monday when he took the oath of office. The crowd included city residents, photographers and dozens of video cameras — some from news agencies as far away as Russia and Japan.
"The first couple of days are going to be rough, I think, on me. I've just got to get acquainted with the job," Sessions said earlier Monday as he took reporters on a tour of the city, which has a population of 8,200 and is located about 100 miles southwest of Detroit. "My confidence is gaining a lot each day."
Sessions beat Mayor Doug Ingles, 51, by two votes in the Nov. 8 election despite Sessions' status as a write-in candidate.
Sessions, who used $700 from a summer job to fund his race, already has appeared on the "Late Show with David Letterman" to read the Top Ten list titled "Good Things About Being an 18-year-old Mayor."
Richard Moore says the national spotlight on Sessions means more exposure for the community.
"I think people at first were like `What's going on here?' but I think as people got to know Mike, they realized he's not your average high school senior," Moore said. "It takes a special person to run for office at any age."
High School Student Sworn in as Mayor
HILLSDALE, Mich. - Michael Sessions began talking about running for mayor when he was a sophomore in high school. He realized that dream before he got his diploma.
Sessions, an 18-year-old senior, became the city's youngest mayor on Monday when he took the oath of office. The crowd included city residents, photographers and dozens of video cameras — some from news agencies as far away as Russia and Japan.
"The first couple of days are going to be rough, I think, on me. I've just got to get acquainted with the job," Sessions said earlier Monday as he took reporters on a tour of the city, which has a population of 8,200 and is located about 100 miles southwest of Detroit. "My confidence is gaining a lot each day."
Sessions beat Mayor Doug Ingles, 51, by two votes in the Nov. 8 election despite Sessions' status as a write-in candidate.
Sessions, who used $700 from a summer job to fund his race, already has appeared on the "Late Show with David Letterman" to read the Top Ten list titled "Good Things About Being an 18-year-old Mayor."
Richard Moore says the national spotlight on Sessions means more exposure for the community.
"I think people at first were like `What's going on here?' but I think as people got to know Mike, they realized he's not your average high school senior," Moore said. "It takes a special person to run for office at any age."
11.20.2005
jonathan
Time does nothing to change this.
Every time I look into those eyes I see another part of who I am- like I am graced with a reflection, not identical, but complimentary. And when that smile is aimed at me, I am really gone. I listen to friends and trusted advisors- those who know us well, but not as well as I. Walk away, they tell me. Perhaps I alone know differently, or perhaps I am the only one blinded to the truth. But I can no more get away from this than I can get away from myself. There is something about us that is bound up together and out of my control. And I cannot help but love, and I don’t mind. But I will accept this for what it is, good and bad, treasured and terrible, beautiful and barren. Seventy times seven, and this is unity- that I not turn away when things are hard, but draw close. And love even as He has loved us, without reserve, not in spite of our shortcomings, but because of them.
A Jonathan is all I hope to be, a source of comfort and laughter.
Every time I look into those eyes I see another part of who I am- like I am graced with a reflection, not identical, but complimentary. And when that smile is aimed at me, I am really gone. I listen to friends and trusted advisors- those who know us well, but not as well as I. Walk away, they tell me. Perhaps I alone know differently, or perhaps I am the only one blinded to the truth. But I can no more get away from this than I can get away from myself. There is something about us that is bound up together and out of my control. And I cannot help but love, and I don’t mind. But I will accept this for what it is, good and bad, treasured and terrible, beautiful and barren. Seventy times seven, and this is unity- that I not turn away when things are hard, but draw close. And love even as He has loved us, without reserve, not in spite of our shortcomings, but because of them.
A Jonathan is all I hope to be, a source of comfort and laughter.
what if they mated
I just saw a totally gay, skinny version of Brian Simms pass me on the sidewalk. Not even kidding, like if Charlie and Brian had a baby this would be it. Put Brian's face on Charlie's body. That was unreal.
Well, I'm sitting here on the streetcorner at 9th and Corona, in a fine example of what John Hay, Jr. would call new urbanism. I live one block away, and I am waiting on my laundry whilst sitting outside and stealing some free wireless. On this corner are the following establishments: a framing shop, a salon, a real estate company, an Einstein's, a King Soopers (Kroger to all you midwesterners), an ancient building housing an elementary school, a liquor store and an ace hardware. I like this corner a lot. And my laundromat is in the alley. And one block over, wireless can also be had in the neighborhood coffee shop, but I'm not thirsty.
So, speaking of this ace, I applied/interviewed there this morning. Am I cut out to sell tools? It's a real possibility, friends. And in other news, I need a starter for my troops. WOOHOO.
Until next time, here's wishing clean sheets to you.
Well, I'm sitting here on the streetcorner at 9th and Corona, in a fine example of what John Hay, Jr. would call new urbanism. I live one block away, and I am waiting on my laundry whilst sitting outside and stealing some free wireless. On this corner are the following establishments: a framing shop, a salon, a real estate company, an Einstein's, a King Soopers (Kroger to all you midwesterners), an ancient building housing an elementary school, a liquor store and an ace hardware. I like this corner a lot. And my laundromat is in the alley. And one block over, wireless can also be had in the neighborhood coffee shop, but I'm not thirsty.
So, speaking of this ace, I applied/interviewed there this morning. Am I cut out to sell tools? It's a real possibility, friends. And in other news, I need a starter for my troops. WOOHOO.
Until next time, here's wishing clean sheets to you.
11.19.2005
Purple, I mean white, majesties
Hello all!
Well, this morning I find myself with a spectacular, no, I say legendary for you Scott, view of the mountain here in Breckenridge. My aunt and uncle are generous beyond measure, and have invited me up for the weekend.
We watched Luther last night after going to some sort of steakhouse for dinner; I was talking to them about Church history and how important I think it is for Christians to know about - just the history of our faith, and what it's taken for us to get to where we are today. You know, with churches the size of airports and all. So I was telling them about this film comissioned by the Lutherans that's only about a year old, called (how surprisingly) Luther, about the reformation in general but mostly this remarkable man. Watching films like this puts everything into perspective for me- when I feel like the church is floundering, it has, in truth, floundered much more than this before. At least people can read now.
What it comes down to is this: I am convinced that the truth will endure the corruption that is married to it in this world. At every last moment when it seems that all is lost, the Spirit in all her glory will rise up those who are committed, even with their very lives, to her and to the true body and to the person of Jesus Christ. And what does not kill us, friends, makes us stronger. To carry around in us this death until His return will transform our very souls into that pure, blameless Bride. Keep the oil in your lamps and the wick trimmed, for He will come, and there will be noise; there will be glad. And a perfect bed.
Well, this morning I find myself with a spectacular, no, I say legendary for you Scott, view of the mountain here in Breckenridge. My aunt and uncle are generous beyond measure, and have invited me up for the weekend.
We watched Luther last night after going to some sort of steakhouse for dinner; I was talking to them about Church history and how important I think it is for Christians to know about - just the history of our faith, and what it's taken for us to get to where we are today. You know, with churches the size of airports and all. So I was telling them about this film comissioned by the Lutherans that's only about a year old, called (how surprisingly) Luther, about the reformation in general but mostly this remarkable man. Watching films like this puts everything into perspective for me- when I feel like the church is floundering, it has, in truth, floundered much more than this before. At least people can read now.
What it comes down to is this: I am convinced that the truth will endure the corruption that is married to it in this world. At every last moment when it seems that all is lost, the Spirit in all her glory will rise up those who are committed, even with their very lives, to her and to the true body and to the person of Jesus Christ. And what does not kill us, friends, makes us stronger. To carry around in us this death until His return will transform our very souls into that pure, blameless Bride. Keep the oil in your lamps and the wick trimmed, for He will come, and there will be noise; there will be glad. And a perfect bed.
11.17.2005
someone saved my life tonight, sugarbabe
Friends! Romans. Plebes.
What does it mean? What does it mean when everywhere I go I see Mandie Sanders look alikes? I feel like I am being stalked by a figment of my own imagination. But seriously. She is at Walmart, she is at church, she is at the coffeeshop. She is everywhere. I wonder where she is, really.
So then there's an update on my troops. I no longer want to kill myself, or support my troops, or do anything but kill my troops. After 24 hours at the shop and much angst, it was given a clean bill of health and a sound spanking. Apparently, there is nothing wrong with my car. It is simply afraid of the dark. It maybe thinks there are zombies lurking, perhaps. Car! Get over yourself. Zombies don't exist. Well, maybe.
And the final news is that I am uncontrollably stuck on Elton John these days. And I am going to Breck this weekend. And apparently, Brian did want to date me after all.
Until next time! Support! Reconsider! Unite!
What does it mean? What does it mean when everywhere I go I see Mandie Sanders look alikes? I feel like I am being stalked by a figment of my own imagination. But seriously. She is at Walmart, she is at church, she is at the coffeeshop. She is everywhere. I wonder where she is, really.
So then there's an update on my troops. I no longer want to kill myself, or support my troops, or do anything but kill my troops. After 24 hours at the shop and much angst, it was given a clean bill of health and a sound spanking. Apparently, there is nothing wrong with my car. It is simply afraid of the dark. It maybe thinks there are zombies lurking, perhaps. Car! Get over yourself. Zombies don't exist. Well, maybe.
And the final news is that I am uncontrollably stuck on Elton John these days. And I am going to Breck this weekend. And apparently, Brian did want to date me after all.
Until next time! Support! Reconsider! Unite!
11.15.2005
well well well then
Friends,
I hereby solemnly swear that I will not take my kids to a coffeeshop and believe that the rest of the public there is responsible for babysitting them because I a. want to use the internet or b. just don't feel like dealing with them right now.
I will also not name my kids Ritalin ( I really think that's what she just called this kid) nor will I say inane things to them like, "You don't really want to be jumping on other people's furniture, do you?" because actually, yes, this kid absolutely does.
I think I'm going to keep living in Colorado for a while. Or at least not move away in the winter. It's the best time to be here. I also want to kill myself a little with rockclimbing and stuff like that before I leave, or how can I ever prove I was here? I also think I'm ready to get a real job. I'm just about done with all these fake jobs.
Love
Liza
I hereby solemnly swear that I will not take my kids to a coffeeshop and believe that the rest of the public there is responsible for babysitting them because I a. want to use the internet or b. just don't feel like dealing with them right now.
I will also not name my kids Ritalin ( I really think that's what she just called this kid) nor will I say inane things to them like, "You don't really want to be jumping on other people's furniture, do you?" because actually, yes, this kid absolutely does.
I think I'm going to keep living in Colorado for a while. Or at least not move away in the winter. It's the best time to be here. I also want to kill myself a little with rockclimbing and stuff like that before I leave, or how can I ever prove I was here? I also think I'm ready to get a real job. I'm just about done with all these fake jobs.
Love
Liza
11.12.2005
i want to thank you
A couple of nights ago, I read the creation account in Eugene Peterson's The Message. I never cease to be taken in by the awe of those first few chapters of Genesis. I mean, really. THe creation of the world was spectacular.
Afterwards, even though I should have absolutely been sleeping, I had to get out of bed and find my Children of Eden highlights and listen to "Let There Be." I will say that no matter what the theological point of view of the listening party, this song captures that spark, that beginning of beginnings.
STORYTELLERS
In the beginning...
In the begininng,
God created the Heaven and Earth
Without form--void--darkness.
And God said:
FATHER
Let there be!
STORYTELLERS
Light!
FATHER
I woke up from a curious dream
I dreamed a perfect garden
And there were whirling shapes
And swirling sounds
And I wasn't lonely anymore
I woke up from a wonderful dream
Woke, full of energy and hunger
And now this hunger will be stilled
And my emptiness be filled
As I set about to build
My dream
Let there be, let there be
Morning
Let there be
Evening, day
Let there be
Let there be
STORYTELLERS
Let there be
FATHER
Waters, weathers, winters, wonders
STORYTELLERS AND FATHER
Let there be
Land and
FATHER
Speeding comets with hearts of ice!
Spinning planets with rings of fire!
STORYTELLERS AND FATHER
Cosmic sparks
And quasars and quarks
And suns convulsing
Pulsars pulsing
STORYTELLERS
Let there be
FATHER
Let there be
STORYTELLERS AND FATHER
Let there be
FATHER
Whales!Snails!Sharks!Larks!
Apples trees with dappled barks!
And granite mountains and flaxen plains
Giant lizards with tiny brains
Flourescent fish and crescent worms
And a million bugs and trillion germs
STORYTELLERS
Let there be
FATHER
Let there be
STORYTELLERS AND FATHER
Let there be
(And God saw, it was good, it was good)
Let there be, let there be
FATHER
It's not enough!
It's still not enough.
There was something more in my dream
Something could see it and share it
What was it, though?
I only know I wasn't lonely anymore
There is one more thing to build
One more void that must be filled
I'll make creatures I'll call children
Shaped like me!
FATHER AND STORYTELLERS
Let there be, let there be
FATHER
Something, someone
Small and skinny
Clawless, furless
Finless, fangless
FATHER AND STORYTELLERS
Let there be
Man who can
FATHER
Wander over my flaxen plains
Wonder up at my granite mountains
Count the stars and wish for wings
And hold a tool and think of things
And search for answers he cannot see
STORYTELLERS
And dream of glory
FATHER
And worship me!
STORYTELLERS
Let there be
FATHER
Let there be
STORYTELLERS AND FATHER
Let there be
(And God saw, it was good, it was good)
FATHER
Let there be
STORYTELLERS
Let there be
FATHER AND STORYTELLERS
Let there be
STORYTELLERS (AND FATHER)
And the father breathed into his children the breath of life
(let...)
And the children became living souls
(there...)
And the father gave to his children a garden
And called the garden...
Eden
(be...)
STORYTELLERS AND FATHER
Let there be!
11.10.2005
I am invited! I am cool!
Friends,
I have recently joined up with some other buddies on the following blog:
Midwest Mindset
I went to school with many of these friends, and it is sure to be a good time,
so go congratulate her!
I have recently joined up with some other buddies on the following blog:
Midwest Mindset
I went to school with many of these friends, and it is sure to be a good time,
so go congratulate her!
11.07.2005
super trooper
my car makes me want to kill myself in the following way: park it at the top of a hill, put it in neutral, then get out really fast and run and throw myself down in front of it.
fortunately, I know nice men, men with MS or extra unneeded cell phones or huge beautiful hair (or mustaches) that have answers for me before I even ask the questions, or the ability just to make me laugh, even if it is only for three seconds.
Why is it that I can be so lonely on a Friday night, but on a Sunday my life is so busy with sociality that I can't even talk to New York through my Jabra (r) headset? And then, at random times, the totally wrong person comes up and hits on you, and you almost drop your laptop in surprise. I am looking for my knight on his white horse, but somehow I always end up with Don Quixote. (Have I ever mentioned how much I hate Cervantes?)
In times of tearing down, there are also times of building up. And I doubt I would notice how nice the blanket is if I wasn't cold. And I will continue to be redeemed, not in spite of my failure, but because of it. It's nice to know that some things don't change, but just get better.
Very little is clear to me right now, but it all seems good.
fortunately, I know nice men, men with MS or extra unneeded cell phones or huge beautiful hair (or mustaches) that have answers for me before I even ask the questions, or the ability just to make me laugh, even if it is only for three seconds.
Why is it that I can be so lonely on a Friday night, but on a Sunday my life is so busy with sociality that I can't even talk to New York through my Jabra (r) headset? And then, at random times, the totally wrong person comes up and hits on you, and you almost drop your laptop in surprise. I am looking for my knight on his white horse, but somehow I always end up with Don Quixote. (Have I ever mentioned how much I hate Cervantes?)
In times of tearing down, there are also times of building up. And I doubt I would notice how nice the blanket is if I wasn't cold. And I will continue to be redeemed, not in spite of my failure, but because of it. It's nice to know that some things don't change, but just get better.
Very little is clear to me right now, but it all seems good.
hidden dragon
"I want to be the best singer songwriter to come out of Denver."
Yes, you do;
I will be crouching all the while
At the grate in my bathroom floor,
studying muscle and sinew and joint,
listening to you
four
floors
below
making it happen.
Yes, you do;
I will be crouching all the while
At the grate in my bathroom floor,
studying muscle and sinew and joint,
listening to you
four
floors
below
making it happen.
11.01.2005
a new month begins, and I am called old
Hello friends.
There are several topics at hand, and I feel the need to share them all, in no particular order.
Last Thursday, my favorite buddy played at The Soiled Dove in Denver. She was fabulous. I'm telling you people, the fact that I love this kid has nothing to do with how great she is. Ok, maybe 1%. But seriously, she means business, and she means it seriously. Check out www.katelaurelsmith.com or www.myspace.com/katelaurelsmith. I took the picture below of her, and it is one of my faves.
So that is another, more minor subject- I really like taking pictures right now. But I don't really have time to do it. I mostly just use buddy's camera phone. Perhaps I will post a retrospect of them all on here soon. But no expectations!
I am getting all kinds of crap ready for my grad school application. It should be a really nice portfolio of all of my kinds of creativity by the time I'm done. I'm including a tape of "The Lesson," the show I directed my junior year at Huntington, along with the production book from that show, my creative writing portfolio, and an eleven track disc I am currently recording in my apartment with Buddy's equipment. It's "Living with Ghosts" kind of rough, but probably won't be half as good. I don't care. I like making up 80's BGVs and playing the harmonica badly. I occasionally wish I had a pet, the kind that would make soft sounds in the background during the outtro. I felt like including some of my creative writing here:
Zen Dentist
I think it’s when you
weren’t quite sure what to do with your tea-
If you should sit it down or
If you should hold onto it
while we stood talking-
I think that might have been when it started.
You always seemed to want to devour me
whenever you came through the door-
I was at work and so we could only talk
for brief snatches of time
but believe me, I wanted to be eaten.
I would study the back of your neck
while I worked on restocking retail
glass cups, soy milk, chai concentrate-
You were studying teeth
And suddenly I began to worry I might have a fang—
But I wasn’t really worried, because
you never stared at my teeth
or my chest when you were talking to me—
Only my eyes.
And we could talk about whatever,
Asia or music or whatever,
and it didn’t really matter because we
weren’t talking to talk, really-
we were just talking to be talking to each other.
And every night alone in my bed
I’d lie awake and dream
of Zen, and teeth, and you.
****
In other, more political news:
Rosa Parks died. That makes me sad in a very selfish way- she definitely deserved to go, she was 92. However, I would have really liked to talk with that woman. Even for like 20 minutes. I mean, good grief. She was Rosa Parks. Seriously.
Charles and Camilla are evidently hanging out in NY today with other, cooler peeps. Americans don't really care. Here is some galluping I found in the Yahoo! news that literally made me laugh out loud about the royal visit and idiotic Yankees:
British papers took note of a USA Today/CNN/Gallup Poll, which found 59 percent of respondents saying they were "not at all interested" in the visit, 22 percent were "not too interested," 13 percent were "somewhat interested" and 6 percent were "very interested."
I wonder who the six percent are.
Halloweening this year included pumpkin carving, tofu dinner, pumpkin seed roasting, passing out of candy and watching Susan Sarandon in "The Hunger" with Brooke and Stephanie. We took some killer photos with Beth's camera- hopefully at some point in life I will have access to those images, in which case I will certainly post them all for you viewers at home. Let me say, "The Hunger" is a wack movie. Brooke went down to her dungeon/apartment to get some scary videos for us to watch, and she came back with this early 80's vampire flick and Tori Amos' videos from '91 to '98. Honestly, I can't tell you which was creepier. All in all, the tofu and the pumpkin seeds were the best parts of the night.
Well, time to end this enormous mother of a blog. Everyone everywhere enjoy your Noviembre. El dia de los muertos! Fiesta!
10.21.2005
Strong Enough
This one's for Joe.
This time of year makes me think about you, and driving in the truck, and Roanoke, and Sheryl Crow. It reminds me of the Kings of Convenience, and remember that one time when Jonny and a whole bunch of people were over and we went to Jason and Tiff's apartment and watched Dawn of the Dead? And we laughed and laughed. Good old zombies.
Remember that time when you went out to the reservoir to run, and you sat down and had a zen moment and then the sun went down and you were lost? You came home and were so freaked out, and then you made me watch Mulholland Drive even though I didn't want to, that one part where the swamp man jumps out from behind the building and the guy just dies. And you took me to Henry's on my birthday. Joe, I loved that moment, I loved you then. I remember sitting in the bed of your truck, looking up at the stars, and talking about nothing out at that same reservoir. No, it wasn't nothing. You told me you wondered what the stars looked like in China, or Brazil, or Greece. How you wanted to see them, to get out of our dusty town in Indiana, and really do something great. Or maybe you should move to Jim's old place, where your aunt lives, and help her with the swampy alligators. Or move to Denver with me and Annie Zeller and live above a coffeeshop.
You know, I loved it when you came over and told me we were going somewhere. I loved you barging in my life, taking me to Coffee D'Vine, or Steak and shake, or the Seven Eleven to get mountain dew. And that one time when you brought me a slushy because I was sick, and loaned me CKY2K, because it was the best ever because it started out with a guy taking a crap. I loved when you came over, when I was sad and poor and lonely after Katie left, and started moving my stuff down to your apartment. And then two days later, when you sat on our sofa and laughed and laughed at me because I had to live with YOU now, and I couldn't go back to my old place because it wasn't my place anymore, and I was trapped with you. I loved being trapped with you. Do you still have our vacuum cleaner?
I loved laying in bed at night and talking with you across the room. Listening to you talk about books, or Tong Soo Doo, or God, or Nascar, or beer. It was all good. And waking up in the morning, hearing you across the distance on your mattress in the corner, farting and turning off your alarm. And the maps you colored and hung on the walls. And using the walk in closet to change. And getting mad at all of Matt's stuff all over the place. And believing in me, no matter how out there I got, because you got me. You understood when I needed to be pushed, and when I needed to be let go, and when I just needed to drive around in the dark and listen to Sheryl.
Last Tuesday I was driving home to Denver, and looking out at the stars. They look great out here, Joe. And "Strong Enough" still makes me think of you, and cry and smile all at the same time.
This time of year makes me think about you, and driving in the truck, and Roanoke, and Sheryl Crow. It reminds me of the Kings of Convenience, and remember that one time when Jonny and a whole bunch of people were over and we went to Jason and Tiff's apartment and watched Dawn of the Dead? And we laughed and laughed. Good old zombies.
Remember that time when you went out to the reservoir to run, and you sat down and had a zen moment and then the sun went down and you were lost? You came home and were so freaked out, and then you made me watch Mulholland Drive even though I didn't want to, that one part where the swamp man jumps out from behind the building and the guy just dies. And you took me to Henry's on my birthday. Joe, I loved that moment, I loved you then. I remember sitting in the bed of your truck, looking up at the stars, and talking about nothing out at that same reservoir. No, it wasn't nothing. You told me you wondered what the stars looked like in China, or Brazil, or Greece. How you wanted to see them, to get out of our dusty town in Indiana, and really do something great. Or maybe you should move to Jim's old place, where your aunt lives, and help her with the swampy alligators. Or move to Denver with me and Annie Zeller and live above a coffeeshop.
You know, I loved it when you came over and told me we were going somewhere. I loved you barging in my life, taking me to Coffee D'Vine, or Steak and shake, or the Seven Eleven to get mountain dew. And that one time when you brought me a slushy because I was sick, and loaned me CKY2K, because it was the best ever because it started out with a guy taking a crap. I loved when you came over, when I was sad and poor and lonely after Katie left, and started moving my stuff down to your apartment. And then two days later, when you sat on our sofa and laughed and laughed at me because I had to live with YOU now, and I couldn't go back to my old place because it wasn't my place anymore, and I was trapped with you. I loved being trapped with you. Do you still have our vacuum cleaner?
I loved laying in bed at night and talking with you across the room. Listening to you talk about books, or Tong Soo Doo, or God, or Nascar, or beer. It was all good. And waking up in the morning, hearing you across the distance on your mattress in the corner, farting and turning off your alarm. And the maps you colored and hung on the walls. And using the walk in closet to change. And getting mad at all of Matt's stuff all over the place. And believing in me, no matter how out there I got, because you got me. You understood when I needed to be pushed, and when I needed to be let go, and when I just needed to drive around in the dark and listen to Sheryl.
Last Tuesday I was driving home to Denver, and looking out at the stars. They look great out here, Joe. And "Strong Enough" still makes me think of you, and cry and smile all at the same time.
10.18.2005
Liza needs
First of all, props to It's A Grind for playing "It's too late" from the latest Ben Folds release. This song always just about brings me to tears.
Ok, people, so I've heard about this little google game going around (ohh! alliteration station!), and I decided to try it out. Apparently, you plug your name plus the word needs into a search engine, and see what kind of good things pop up. Here are some of my faves.
1. Liza needs to be with her daughter, at home.
2. Liza needs to get a life and a new face, her time is over and doesn't she realise that?
3. Liza needs a storyline but with something new like the fashion industry.
4. Liza needs to recover from trauma.
5. Liza needs TIME OFF from relationships.
6. Like all Border Collies, Liza needs a job to do.
7. Come on, big boy. Have some sex with old Liza. Liza needs the boom-boom. (!!!)
8. Liza needs some pointers about being assertive.
9. Liza needs to be fed and put in bed.
10.Liza needs time to work on her old Mustang and play with the pets.
I promise I did not alter any of the above, but found them all in their exact glory while googling. Good grief, I have not laughed this hard in a long time.
Ok, people, so I've heard about this little google game going around (ohh! alliteration station!), and I decided to try it out. Apparently, you plug your name plus the word needs into a search engine, and see what kind of good things pop up. Here are some of my faves.
1. Liza needs to be with her daughter, at home.
2. Liza needs to get a life and a new face, her time is over and doesn't she realise that?
3. Liza needs a storyline but with something new like the fashion industry.
4. Liza needs to recover from trauma.
5. Liza needs TIME OFF from relationships.
6. Like all Border Collies, Liza needs a job to do.
7. Come on, big boy. Have some sex with old Liza. Liza needs the boom-boom. (!!!)
8. Liza needs some pointers about being assertive.
9. Liza needs to be fed and put in bed.
10.Liza needs time to work on her old Mustang and play with the pets.
I promise I did not alter any of the above, but found them all in their exact glory while googling. Good grief, I have not laughed this hard in a long time.
10.17.2005
groceries and nepotism and all that stuff
well, well. I always feel like there is a lot to say, and then I realize that there isn't. Some small items of note-
I bought groceries yesterday, and my home feels real. It feels homey and there's food in the cabinets and tp in the can. I've been reading lots of Tolkien at home lately, and have a strange urge to occasionally speak archaicly, as if an elf will suddenly appear in mithril and approve of my middle-earth vocabulary and impeccable diction. In addition to that, I have been taking baths. And drinking green tea. On the whole, I like being in my attic.
Other things include my feeling that the Bush presidency is just hitting rock bottom. I mean, seriously, people. You can just nominate people for all sorts of things they've never even done before, just because they're your friends. And it's not like nominating someone to the homecoming committee because they're your friend. Homecoming committees only decide what color the float will be and who's house the weinie roast will be at. And sometimes there's a tailgater where they beat up old cars with sledgehammers, and sneak beer. But how big of a deal is that? Not really. What I'm talking about is the Supreme Court. I don't really think it is ever a good idea to trust Mr. Bush. In fact, isn't that just about the only thing we have learned in the last six years? You know, friends, the definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over again but expecting a different result. When will we get that he simply isn't going to stop pulling one over on us all?
On a parting note, friends,
Sometimes it is really good to be alive. To recognize each moment, and realize that pain is valuable. To cry if we want, because it isn't all okay all of the time. And that is okay. To love without expectation or hesitation, and to not be afraid to lose everything before it is all over.
Rest in my arms, sleep in my bed; there's a design to what I did and said.
I bought groceries yesterday, and my home feels real. It feels homey and there's food in the cabinets and tp in the can. I've been reading lots of Tolkien at home lately, and have a strange urge to occasionally speak archaicly, as if an elf will suddenly appear in mithril and approve of my middle-earth vocabulary and impeccable diction. In addition to that, I have been taking baths. And drinking green tea. On the whole, I like being in my attic.
Other things include my feeling that the Bush presidency is just hitting rock bottom. I mean, seriously, people. You can just nominate people for all sorts of things they've never even done before, just because they're your friends. And it's not like nominating someone to the homecoming committee because they're your friend. Homecoming committees only decide what color the float will be and who's house the weinie roast will be at. And sometimes there's a tailgater where they beat up old cars with sledgehammers, and sneak beer. But how big of a deal is that? Not really. What I'm talking about is the Supreme Court. I don't really think it is ever a good idea to trust Mr. Bush. In fact, isn't that just about the only thing we have learned in the last six years? You know, friends, the definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over again but expecting a different result. When will we get that he simply isn't going to stop pulling one over on us all?
On a parting note, friends,
Sometimes it is really good to be alive. To recognize each moment, and realize that pain is valuable. To cry if we want, because it isn't all okay all of the time. And that is okay. To love without expectation or hesitation, and to not be afraid to lose everything before it is all over.
Rest in my arms, sleep in my bed; there's a design to what I did and said.
10.12.2005
xena and gabrielle- the seventh season
ok, people, I'll admit. I have a closet, well... obsession. Last year whilst living with my folks for a few weeks after college, I got into the habit of waking up around nine, stumbling out into the living room, flopping down on the sofa, and turning on the TV. I had lived without a TV for months prior, and have not had one for the better part of a year since. However, at this time, I was unemployed, living off the fat of the land, and well, didn't have that much better to do. Ok, excuses aside- I got hooked on Xena: Warrior Princess. I know! I know. It's dumb, it's campy, it's poorly written TV schlack. But it started to be so funny to me. The way they played with timelines, my intense hatred of Joxer, and Gabrielle's clumsiness in early episodes would leave me rolling. Add in a beautiful New Zealand background in the hour-long show, Renee O'Connor's fantastic acting, and chicks beating up guys, and I was totally hooked. After I moved out of my parents' place, it started with an innocent rental of season one on DVD from my local Blockbuster. Soon this was not enough. I needed more! People, I needed more.
Feed me, said the Xena plant inside me, that I had created by simply not changing the TV off of the Oxygen channel.
Dang it.
So now I own all six seasons on DVD. Cringe! When I think how many Ramen packets I could have bought with that money... oh well. I will be poor and feminist and happy. So, friends, you can not believe my surprise when I discovered news, news about a tenth planet. That has been named Xena. And she has a moon! OH, wait for it, wait for it- the moon is named Gabrielle. What a weird feeling, when suddenly the object of an obsession you desperately try to keep private is suddenly exposed to the world. But I secretly wonder- who would do this?
Taken from http://www.tenthplanet.info:
Dr [Michael] Brown and his team have christened the planet, Xena, after the warrior princess in the old television series, "...because we always wanted to name something Xena."
[On a side note, whilst looking for quoteable quotes from Dr. Brown, I discovered he has a new daughter named Lilah. Xena fans everywhere already know this, but to you lay people I inform: Lilah was Gabrielle's younger sister on the show. We must have quite the fanatic here. How exciting!]
Dr. Brown, I applaud you. Thank you for having the courage, as a male astronomer, to choose the name of a feminist, butt-kicking, often ridiculed television character, as the name of our tenth planet. Of course she would have Gabrielle, twirling along by her side. Perhaps we can expand this whole thing, an annoying asteroid charging in and messing things up could be Joxer. A second moon might be Argo, Xena's faithful horse. Perhaps major areas of debris in the Kuiper belt (where Xena was discovered) might be nicknamed the Amazons.
I'm not sure where this current trend is heading, folks, and being a Xena fan myself, I'm going to bend on this one. But if they name the next planet Buffy, I'm going to emigrate to another solar system.
For actual, credible news on this, check out http://www.cnn.com/2005/TECH/space/10/01/new.planet.moon.ap/index.html?section=cnn_latest
10.11.2005
tripping
a list of things about my trip that I hope to cover more in depth in upcoming days:
lost south american rodents
dead deer
crazy people in market st. station
jeff zike
sufjan stevens
losing bus tickets
my brother's girlfriend
copious amounts of lasagna
six week old babies (ah! I want one!)
jocelyn henjum
family heirlooms
hacking coughs
bus rides
chair massage
new knit caps
holding hands
forgetting important things
FINDING MY BIRTH CERTIFICATE!!! woohoo.
ok, so that's all for now. it has been a fabulous trip. back to denver we fly.
lost south american rodents
dead deer
crazy people in market st. station
jeff zike
sufjan stevens
losing bus tickets
my brother's girlfriend
copious amounts of lasagna
six week old babies (ah! I want one!)
jocelyn henjum
family heirlooms
hacking coughs
bus rides
chair massage
new knit caps
holding hands
forgetting important things
FINDING MY BIRTH CERTIFICATE!!! woohoo.
ok, so that's all for now. it has been a fabulous trip. back to denver we fly.
10.05.2005
denver, early fall
Friends.
It is chilly today, and there is a pumpkin on my doorstep, and leaves are falling. I am wearing a maroon sweater, and the Indigo Girls are playing at Einstein's, where I am mooching internet. There is a lightness in my step on this day that has not been present for a while- I am poor with no end in sight, but I am happy.
I have learned that when the exercise (swiss) ball rolls away, determinedly away from you down the street at almost midnight while you are packing your life into a 15 year old gas guzzler, it is time to laugh. And oh, laugh I did. It may turn the corner, it may roll completely out of sight. But, it will always be there, waiting dustily for you in front of the Cliff House, no matter when you leave.
Riding my bike to work has been a distinct pleasure the last few days. I've only almost gotten killed a few times, but it's free! I'm not sure what will happen when it starts snowing. Maybe I'll dogsled. I need to get some tights, all I have are these little bike shorts that leave all of my leg quite pink. At least the legs then match my little pink ears. I really like my new apartment. And the bathtub, claw feet people. Not that you people have claw feet. Maybe you do. But I'm talking about the tub. Oh so nice, until I have to switch positions, and then I feel like a big, awkward kid. But then I smile, and remember that is exactly what I am.
***
I'm gonna clear my head, I'm gonna drink that sun-
I'm gonna love you good and long while our love is good and young.
It is chilly today, and there is a pumpkin on my doorstep, and leaves are falling. I am wearing a maroon sweater, and the Indigo Girls are playing at Einstein's, where I am mooching internet. There is a lightness in my step on this day that has not been present for a while- I am poor with no end in sight, but I am happy.
I have learned that when the exercise (swiss) ball rolls away, determinedly away from you down the street at almost midnight while you are packing your life into a 15 year old gas guzzler, it is time to laugh. And oh, laugh I did. It may turn the corner, it may roll completely out of sight. But, it will always be there, waiting dustily for you in front of the Cliff House, no matter when you leave.
Riding my bike to work has been a distinct pleasure the last few days. I've only almost gotten killed a few times, but it's free! I'm not sure what will happen when it starts snowing. Maybe I'll dogsled. I need to get some tights, all I have are these little bike shorts that leave all of my leg quite pink. At least the legs then match my little pink ears. I really like my new apartment. And the bathtub, claw feet people. Not that you people have claw feet. Maybe you do. But I'm talking about the tub. Oh so nice, until I have to switch positions, and then I feel like a big, awkward kid. But then I smile, and remember that is exactly what I am.
***
I'm gonna clear my head, I'm gonna drink that sun-
I'm gonna love you good and long while our love is good and young.
9.30.2005
fifty twenty five twenty three
oh what a large and small year.
I'm realizing that growing up entails mostly just little disappointments adding up, until you get over everything enough to not care enough to be disappointed after all.
why do I still feel sad?
I must confess, I just want to be loved until I don't remember how to open my eyes. And not worry about anything, and recognize beauty in every moment set before me.
happy last twenty two.
I'm realizing that growing up entails mostly just little disappointments adding up, until you get over everything enough to not care enough to be disappointed after all.
why do I still feel sad?
I must confess, I just want to be loved until I don't remember how to open my eyes. And not worry about anything, and recognize beauty in every moment set before me.
happy last twenty two.
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