go home, go home, go home with bonnie jean! go home, go home, i'll go home with bonnie jean!

my bags are packed, i'm ready to go... except for the brush & comb, iphone charger, tylenol, and peshal. can't go to brigadoon without peshal! at this point i need to resist putting anything else in because i simply don't need anything else. stop putting stuff in! stop it! i know i've already got too much stuff but i managed to keep it to 3 rubbermaid bins + the plastic drawers + the sleeping bag. plus, the dorm pillow. plus, peshal. plus, my jansport. but that's all! absolutely ALL!

tomorrow morning i will eat the remaining cheese and pita chips since no one here will eat them while i am gone, run the remaining miles to reach a 40 mile week, warsh the remaining dishes, pack the car, and leave. the end. the place where i get weird is right at the leaving. for someone who hates housecleaning, why do i feel compelled to scrub turlettes and mop the kitchen floor in the wee breadth of time during which i am supposed to be leaving? just axt mini-me - it used to happen all the time. we'd be heading to the liberry or some such and i'd be all over the onemorething i needed to do before leaving. just leave, you freak! gah!

and, that is what i will attempt to do in the morning - just leave. will my absence cause your interest here to wane... or make your heart grow fonder?

we'll find out the answer to that in about two weeks.

did you hear about that wimbledon match -- it went on for like a week or something.

so we are watching this movie where this girl is characterized as depressed and she's in college but drops out because of this so-called depression then she's got a job lined up with rolling stone which she cannot seem to hold onto, but really the way it's portrayed in the movie she just does whatever she damb well pleases and says whatever she damb well pleases so i am not certain it's an accurate depiction of depression. seems that she's a bit of a free spirit with a touch of paranoia and way, way, waaaay too much reliance on other people to form her self, and i am not an expert by any means but if that is what depression is, then... hrm....

wait.

nevermind.

today i went for a yog outside. i have been on the treadmill a few days nursing my hip and catering to my lungs's apparent aversion to the heat and humidity. i have had about enough of the great indoors and decided what i needed was a dose of vitamin sunshine. «how did that work out for you, ace?», you ask, and i will tell you, «blech.» that is how it worked out - blechly.

when i got back and was logging my "run" and noticed my rolling mileage on the last 7 days is 49 miles and so, durr, that is about 10 more miles than usual. i aim for a 40 mile week each week with 30 or 32 during the week and 8 or 10 on the weekend. because this weekend i am headed to brigadoon (!!) i didn't want to leave 8 or 10 miles so i bumped up the week trying to get to 7 per day, 35 during the week.

WHAT'S THE FREAKING POINT, ACE?

the point is that now i'm a bit high on the rolling total and the sad truth is i cannot simply decide i am going to run more and then go do it with no residual effects. increased physical activity apparently requires something different than a mental decision and making room on the schedule. it just seems like if i make the time and decide to do [insert activity here] then i should be able to. why does it seem like this should be true? because up until maybe like 3 or 4 years ago, it was true.

::sigh::

where grimace is happy

the traffic lady said this morning - "on the interstates, everything's moving along fine right now as far as the cars are concerned." what exactly are these things that are that are moving, how can we be certain they are fine, and why are the cars concerned?

also on the news this morning was a story about the center for science in the public interest who are suing mcdonald's over happy meal toys. their premise is that offering the toy is an unfair method of inducing children to eat mcdonald's's food. um... durr? happy meals have been around for, what, like 30 years or something and these guys are just now catching on to the concept.

"McDonald’s is the stranger in the playground handing out candy to children.... It’s a creepy and predatory practice that warrants an injunction."

okay, give me a freaking break. mcdonald's is überpervasive, the very antithesis of the stranger. mcdonald's is the normaler.

my theory is that these cats didn't get the good toy back in the day and this is their revenge. mcdonald's would change toys about every six months and with every set of toys there would be a good one that was an actual working toy, then there were a couple lame cardboard toys and a lame book toy. everyone wanted the actual toy of which there'd be only like one at every store but you'd always hope you'd get that one, so you'd keep going back and buying more happy meals.

but - i'll bet those golden tickets make the chocolate taste terrible. not only are the meals unhealthy, but they must not taste too great because if they were any good, mcdonald's wouldn't have to give you a toy to get you to want the meal. it's a gastric shakedown.

so the kids are bombarded by the teevee commershals that tell them they want these toys and these meals, then they pressure their hapless parents into purchasing these meals for them. goodness. how can we stop this bombardment?! gosh. gosh. what shall we do? what CAN we do?

well, we could educate the parents and thereby empower them make solid choices for their children, choices about both television viewing and quality food -- help parents perform that vital role as teachers and guides for children. help parents be the grown-ups in the room.

we could spend tax dollars to offer safe recreation options for children whose parents use television as a babysitter. we could spend tax dollars to build neighborhood grocery stores to bring fresh food into places where it's hard to come by, and to plant community gardens. kids in wealthy communities and in poor communities can benefit from these options.

or, instead of spending our tax dollars to make a positive, tangible difference in real peoples's everyday lives, we could spend tax dollars to tilt at the freaking windmill of ginormity that is mcdonald's, wasting years debating theory in the courts instead of implementing change on the streets.

6000 words (+ captions)

begging the question

---

a fruitful plan-o-gram

---

i am woman - hear me sit on my butt and watch man.

---

porny be!

---

fide athowiddy
(athowiddy awayz winz)

---

abcedfg is not a word, despite what big bird said on that LP grandma-bec had back in the day.

---

marezee dote sand ohzee dote sand littlam zee divy

why does the grilled chicken sandwich cost more than the fried one? they are basically the same thing but the fried is on the dollar menu and the grilled is like over $3.

so i was listening to npr this afternoon and they were interviewing a guy who makes fishing nets down in loozyanna and he was all distraught over the oil spill which of course makes sense. but something he said troubled me. he said BP is making reparations based on recorded income, and because he runs a cash-only business, he doesn't have recorded income, so BP is just going to "skate by on this one". um... hello? buddy? the only reason to run a cash-only bidness with no recorded income is to avoid paying income taxes, so who exactly is skating by here? hmmm?

earlier today officelady told me a story that involved a company car, a flat tire, a "useless man", and putting her shoulder beneath a female coworker's behind to boost said coworker into the tow truck. feel free to reconstruct the story from these meager parts.

yesterday we went to smoothie king and i got a strawberry lemon twist and it was very yummy. after completing the sippage of said smoothie, i felt not so full. usually a smoothie will fill me right on up. then i realized maybe this was one of those bling smoothies with no protein. my old man was like, call 'em up & find out. so, i called 'em up:

sk - smoothie king!
ace - [coughing fit]
ace's old man - [hahahaha!!!]
ace - ahem. hello. sorry. i am calling to see - does the strawberry lemon twist have protein?
sk - the lemon twist... let me see... what flavor did you get?
ace - strawberry.
sk - yes.
ace - yes?
sk - yes. the strawberry has protein.
ace - how many grams?
sk - grams?
ace - yes, how many grams of protein does the strawberry lemon twist have?
sk - grams?
ace - yes.
sk - let me see... hmmm... one.
ace - one?
sk - yes. one gram.
ace - thanks.
sk - your welcomed!

sha. eesh.

eau de pier1

used the chandrika soap and now i smell like pier1. the old pier1, that is, before pier1 went all martha stewart. pier1 used to be like that store in the mall that sells the hermit crabs only pier1 was even more like that than that store is like that. firstly, we didn't really have malls back in the day. we had strip malls and shopping centers, little nuclei of retail. these days retail is completely jacked up and our entire economy depends on our buying things and our entertainment and socialization is built around purchasing.

but i digress. back in the day, pier1 was located in a sort of warehousey type space, very raw with rough exposed wood bins holding loose shells, brass elephants and incense dishes stacked on upturned crates, fishing nets with blown glass globes hanging from the walls, and the ubiquitous carved sandalwood buddhas grinning grinning grinning above their fat little bellies. pier1 was a hippy store.

some of my first solo shopping was at pier1 b/c around the time i was 12 or so, riding my bikecycle to the local library and retail, pier1 was the edgiest store around. there was an aura of counterculture wafting about with the incense fumes. i am sure it was all very tame, but to a 12 yr old it felt like the kind of place there would be Drug Deals Going Down. i mean, incense was invented to cover up the smell of pot, right? such a risk taker i was, shopping at the pier1, coming home with a bag of shells and incense cones i'd never light.

the tie between this soap and pier1 is the patchouli. there's patchouli in this soap and nothing, i mean nothing, says freaky hippy retail like the scent of patchouli.

brigadoon: t minus 6 days.

i've been packing the past couple days. spent way too much money on new swimwear, sleeping bag, mosquito netting, shorts, socks, tee shirts, and other assorted sundries. it's more fun when you're a kid and you're doing the shopping and someone else is doing the buying. go figure. i don't have a footlocker, which is a bit strange, but i'll make do with the rubbermaid bins. i'd like to keep things to three bins + sleeping bag + plastic drawers + pillow - and i'd like to get my pillow in one of the bins because i'd like to take that dorm pillow also. i need to pack as light as possible because (1) i won't be there that long so it's important to be unstupid and (2) someone is going to have to pick me up at the top of the hill. no way my car will make the drive down that road. 1 bin is completely filled already with bedding & towels, 1 will be clothes, and 1 will be shoes, lapdesk, ground cover, hat, sweatshirt, jacket, etc. i might have to go to 4, but i'm really trying not to.


REQUIRED
10 pair colored shorts (5 blue)
3 pair white shorts
8 plain white shirts (polo or T-shirts)
1 long-sleeved, button-down white shirt (for banquet on the last night of Camp)
2 sweatshirts or flannel-type shirts
3 pair blue jeans or long pants for horseback riding/camping out
1 pair hard-soled shoes (with heel) for horseback
1 pair tennis shoes
1 pair old tennis shoes for walking in creeks
2 bathing suits (one piece)
3 blankets (temperatures in mid-50s)
4 twin sheets
3 pillow cases
1 pillow
6 bath towels (medium weight)
2 laundry bags (washable and clearly marked with full name)
raincoat
flashlight (+ extra batteries)
duffel bag (to hold linens & sleeping bag)
footlocker (nothing bigger)
14 pairs socks and underwear
pajamas, shorts and shirts as needed
water bottle
sleeping bag
yellow shirt or shorts for team events

OPTIONAL
camera
tennis racket
a backpack
a plastic ground cover
waterproof shoes for rainy days
stationary in Ziploc bag (weatherproof)
self-stick stamps

what have we here? a few purchases.

a couple cartons of coconut water. it's supposed to be a superior hydrator. these little cartons were a bit pricey, like $1.30, and so i only got 2 so i am not sure how i will know if they work because that's a small sample. i had the guava one yesterday and it was yummy. and, i guess i was hydrated with it? i really don't know how you'd know after 1 or even 2. i'd think you'd have to add these into the daily regimen and i don't know if it's best to use coconut water before going out or after returning from the running or both, which would double the usage, or if it doesn't matter at all, or maybe it matters a lot and i need to drink 5 per day. the good folks at the vitamin shoppe are somewhat helpful but can you trust someone who benefits from selling you stuff when they tell you how much to purchase?

also purchased at the vitamin shoppe, the chandrika soap. i have no idea what is chandrika which is a bit of a risk on my part since i am going to touch it to my bare skin. you google up the definition and learn it's the brand name of an herbal soap. huh. i axted the salesguy can i bring it back if it makes me break out in a rash and get my 99¢ back, and he laughed. and, i stood there unlaughing waiting for an answer, and he looked at me, then he said, "yes, we will give you a store credit." why did my rash thinking make him laugh? i don't think that's very nice.

the final purchase is the vanilla wafers which were the penny item at publix, but that's not the point. the point is the package features van-zilla. ggrrrrr!!! heh. i love publix's packaging.

van-zilla!!!! raaawrrr!!

14. Irony: a situation where something is said but the reader can see a different meaning.

so i was walking along, doing the cooldown thing after my run, and behind me someone goes - "hey!!!" - and so i look around quick because maybe i am going to get hit by a car or something. no car, but this black guy proceeds to stride on up from behind me and inform me that i am scared and that white people are scared and rhetorically axt me why are white people so scared and tells me he's a marine and he's been around the world and white people are more scared than any other people anywhere. i am like, hey man you walked up behind me and yelled and that is just plain scary i don't care who you are and besides which you don't know me or what i am scared of and i can tell you this right now i am not scared of you.

he continued to pound the theme white people are scared, white people are scared. and he's like, "why y'all so scared?" and i am like, "hell if i even know what you are even talking about." and he keeps at it, but i keep at it, too, and i am telling him he doesn't even know me, stop judging me. i tell him he's making a racist generalization which of course the irony of this just sails right over his head like a balsa-wood glider with a wound-too-tight rubberband propeller.

he does finally concede that he doesn't know me, and he does finally shake my hand. but he pissed me off. walk up behind me and yell, and then tell me i am scared of black people?! damb, man. just... just... damb. your blackness didn't scare me -- i might not have even noticed the colour of your skin because i was pretty much focused on your completely jacked up teeth (don't the marines fix that??). no, your blackness didn't scare me. your crazyness, on the other hand, that is some scary shit right there, man. scary.

hair today

word on the street is that the prez should go down to the gulf and solve the oil spill. right. he's a fabulous guy and all, but he's not aquaman. what he needs to do is establish a task force with a strong leader, a retired general perhaps, and empower the task force to fix the leak and clean up the damage. (did he do this already and i missed it?) unless the plan is to allow harm to the environment in order to dispose folks favourably to his green energy plan in which case doing nothing to fix it would be the best maneuver. meanwhile, BP is stopping dividend payments thru the end of the year and that hurts no one but the dividend receivers, which in large part are brits on pension. this is not good because the last thing we need are a horde of nasty snaggletoothed pensionless brits on the dole.

one of the plans to contain the spill involved using human hair as a sorbent. (human hair sorbent should never be confused with human hair sorbet.) speaking of human hair, i got a hair cut today. i liked it so much, i went back and had the rest cut to match. (*rimshot*) seriously... i was just in there a couple weeks ago, and when i left that day i had a feeling it was still too long and i should have gone back in right then. but did i? no. (those days are gone forever, you should just let 'em go.)

last time, i did not get my fave stylist who i will tell you her real name is tawanna. "ta wanna haircut?" yes, please, me wanna haircut. so, she was busy cutting someone else's hairs last time, and today again, she was busy. i could make an appt with her, but that costs an extra dollar-three-eighty and i am cheap so i will take my chances from the stylist grab bag, but walking in past the others to get to the chair of whoever is the winner winner chicken dinner of the day... makes one feel a bit of a cut slut. cannot be helped, however. luck of the draw and all that, what what. so ANYWAYS, my hair was too long before and i told today's girl all about it and how i should have come right back in, but did i, no. so when she was done cutting she was like - "i'm only charging you for a kid's cut b/c you were just in here a couple weeks ago." yipee ki yay!

so the cut was $13 so i tipped her $3. i have no idea if that is even a good tip, but it's over 20%. i usually just add the tip onto the bill and run the card, but today i chose to pay with cash. why? who the hell knows! but so then i am left with handing her money and so i am like - "uhn?" fairly certain that is actually what i said to her as i handed it to her - "uhn?" - and she was all, "oh, thanks!" and i was all, "yeah, thanks!" i am so stellar with the live convos!

hooked on phoenix

woman comes on teevee and says - "is there anything more important than grandchildren? i don't think so. that's why i am running for congress." eh? what? so you can be hundreds of miles from your grandchildren for several years, way too busy to spend any time with them?

this morning the local weather man described the local weather thusly, "it's just yucky outside." i think that is his professional opinion. you will also be glad to know it's meteorological [sp?!] summer. the meteorologists don't go by the old fashioned solstice-equinox system. oh, no no no! they use the new fangled "when it is hot, we will call it summertime. we are meteorologists. who the hell will question us?"

crappy green team was in the semi's last night, and guess what we did before the game? made plans for the finals. because, you know, we could work with the white team and schedule the game at a convenient time. most of the players will be at a 6v6 tourney this weekend, so that won't work, and the following weekend, many will be out of town. we've had lots of rain delays - the season should have been over weeks ago, so everyone has plans, see? we were planning what day would be good for the game. and, so blah blah blah, can you guess the punchline? we loosed the semi-final, 3-2. what a bunch of dopes.

selling all lines: auto, life, fire, health

rain, snow, sleet, hail, heat of day, dark of night

north, south, east, west

earth, wind, fire

love, peace, joy, hope

butcher, baker, candlestickmaker

friends, romans, countrymen

football, basketball, baseball, track

red, orange, yellow, green, blue, indigo, violet

planes, trains, automobiles

reading, writing, arithmetic

uno, dos, tres, quatorze

north america, south america, antarctica, europe, asia, australia, africa

indian, pacific, atlantic, arctic, antarctic

red, yellow, black, white

eggs, milk, bread, coffee

tennessee, georgia, alabama, auburn, mississippi st, ole miss, florida, arkansas, south carolina, vanderbilt, kentucky, lousiana st

freshman, sophomore, junior, senior

rich man, poor man, beggar man, thief, doctor, lawyer, indian chief

back in the day

yesterday i talked to my geometry coach from high school. that's right, geometry "coach". back in the day there were a couple three wack classes at the ol' academy. my school has roots as a school for farm boys who wanted to get off the farm, and so sports were a bit more important than geometry. wait, let me rephrase that. sports were a bit more important than sophomore geometry, which was the "regular" math track. i was supposed to be in freshman geometry, but for some reason i ended up in the soph class when i was a frosh. the school does have a history in strong academics and college prep.

but i digress. this man was my geometry coach. he is true old-school gentleman. he is polite, caring, genuine. i had heard he retired, so i said, "i heard you retired." and he was like, "yeah, more like i was asked to retire." that didn't sound good to me. we talked about it for a while and the bottom line is the ol' academy has changed more in the past 5 years than it changed in the previous 100. the new administration does not care one whit about the long history of the school - they only care about the modern-day competition for student tuition dollars and therefore about measuring up against some external standard. coach geometry said that in less than 5 years there won't be a face left there i'd recognize.

it's a shame for the ol' academy and it's also a commentary on the state of our world today. we have no respect for history. hell, not only do we have no respect for it, we have no knowledge of it. we don't even remember things that happened a few years ago, much less REAL history.

history is the foundation of society and as with a house, if you ignore the maintenance of the foundation, the structure will collapse.

do you know why "god bless america" is not our national anthem?

so i was just now driving home from the "i was thinking of my most out going, talk to anyone and friendly type people and you were first on my list" event and i was just tootling along in the little slingshot and the eagles's "already gone" came on and so i was sanging along you can eeechore lunch all by yourself! when OMG BLUE LIGHTS ON MY TAIL BLUE LIGHTS BLUE LIGHTS!!

so i made that left there at the bank where they're putting in the new zaxby's you know, and i pulled in under the bank lights because you're always supposed to pull into a well-lit area, then i went ahead and shut off the slingshot's engine b/c i didn't want the policeman to think i would be trying to make a getaway. because clearly i am the getaway type and his first thought would be "watch out or she will get away". so you know, i wanted to put his mind at ease.

so he walks up there to my window and he's like, "didn't you see me in that lane?" and i was like, "haha. ha. no... i looked in my rearview and thought you turned." he said, "you just about gave me a heart attack." and i was going to say, well just imagine if you suddenly saw blue lights in your rear view. but i didn't. i said, "oh, sorry. haha. ha." and he was like, "do you have your license?" and i was like, "yes." and of course i immediately reached for my purse to get it out because when policemen ask you do you have your license, it's not a quiz, they are not taking roll. "license?" "prmmsnmmt!" (see the license is in my purse, so its answer is sort of muffled.) when a policeman says, do you have your license, what he means is to get it out.

so i gave it to him and he's like, "i am just going to run this and i'll get you right out of here." which was nice but odd because what am i going to say - well, your persnickityness about my mad driving skillz gonna make me LATE! and then i am like, hmm, i want to call my old man, wonder if that's okay, to make a phone call. so i lean out the winder and i am yelling, "can i make a phone call?" and he's all like, "what?" and he comes back my way a bit to hear me, and i am like, "can i just make a phone call?" and he's like, "oh, yeah. sure, and i'll have you out of here in like two minutes." again, with the concern for my time.

so i call my old man and he is like, "did you get a citation?" because apparently it's use a big official word day and i am like, "i don't think so - he said he'd have me right out of here in like two minutes." and he was like, "wow, you were lucky." and i was thinking, no - i am just THAT GOOD. but i didn't say that. i was like, "yeah."

so then sure enough, mr policeman is back at my window, handing me my license back, and he goes, "okay, so be careful out there. and, don't rely on your mirrors - take a look around. don't rely on your mirrors." and i am all like, "oh, yes sir. got it. of course. haha. ha." then i start up the slingshot and i pull out of the lot, and he pulls out behind me, and up at the light we both make a left and i am starting to think maybe he's going to follow me home and i am sort of getting a bit tense about that, but then he makes another left when i go straight and i could relax because i know he made the turn. i was not relying on my mirrors. i looked around.

beau outgrown

he climbs the tree outside my window
to the very top. then
perched in the highest branches,
he smiles at me.
"open the window and sit on the ledge.
talk again about your dreams."
"i have no dreams now, only plans,
and someone else to share them with."
"sneak outside and climb the boughs.
swing again from the very top."
"i am too old for those games now.
i have others you won't understand."
and, perched in the highest branches,
he smiles at me -
his round white face blurred with sadness.

/19 dec 1984/

all british men sound like willy wonka.

if you are thinking like sting is thinking and like montel is thinking that legalizing drugs is fine because it's our right to do what we want with our bodies - maybe you should consider it's not only the druggies's bodies but it's the bystander's bodies we need to consider. 70% of child abuse in the good ol' USA is substance induced/enhanced. bazinga.

jon stewart on the daily show was discussing pres obama's having said that he was on a factfinding mission in an attempt to discover "whose ass to kick" over the gulf oil spill. the president said that like on tuesday, but back on 27 may, he said - "If you are wondering who is responsible, I take responsibility." so jon concludes, the president needs to kick his own ass. bazinga.

so, ol' lane kiffin loves him some university of southern california. he loves USC so much that when he was head football coach at university of tennesee for one season, he showed recruits USC game highlights. that's right, UT recruits were shown USC highlights. when pete carroll headed up the coast to coach the seahawks, kiffin could barely run to the airport to get on a plane to get to USC because he was slipping & sliding in all the slobber from his drooling over the prospect of getting the job. [too complicated?] and kiffin got there and got settled and is starting in on spring practice when the NCAA shows up and slaps down the USC program with penalties for infractions from before kiffin's time, including no bowl games for 2 years and loss of 20 scholarship positions. couldn't happen to a nicer guy. bazinga.

it is simply the funniest show on teevee. hands down. hands! down!

the whole point of tweeting is to send a message that people will read real-time, but i found out that people were reading my tweets like twice a day from the tweetpage. tweets are posted in reverse chronological order on the tweetpage so this meant they were getting my stuff all bassackwards. okay, see, this was one of my most brilliant tweets. it's a 2-parter.

=====
it's a good thing i don't win the lottery because i'd just spend all my money on crack
-------
ers.
=====

see? get it? crack... ers. HAHAHAHAH!!! but see the point is that you have to get the delivery in real time because on the twitter page it looks like this:

=====
ers.
-------
it's a good thing i don't win the lottery because i'd just spend all my money on crack
=====

and that is just stupid.

in other news, the battery in our original laptop has no capacity, so it's always one dropped plug away from SHUT DOWN. and, the receptor is jacked up, or maybe it's jilled up, but at any rate it's wacked out so the plug won't stay in place. in conclusion, the plug has a penchant for jumping out and the battery is persistently empty, so... you'll be sitting there just doing your thing and eeerrooop SHUT DOWN. kind of annoying. feel free to get me a new netbook. i mean it - don't hold back.

in other news, i've been personally selected by the event coordinator for the position of greeter at an event this weekend because, and i quote: "i was thinking of my most out going, talk to anyone and friendly type people and you were first on my list". bah-hah-hah!! bah! bah-hah! HA, and i say again, HA! jesus, mary, & joseph... what a pitiful universe you must live in if i am the top of your friendly type people list. (oh, don't worry your pretty little head, i'll play nice. after all, it's a charity event for an excellent cause.)

thangs yew dew

sometimes i have a million things i can't wait to tell you and i'll prewrite like 5 blogs but sometimes the daily writing is a hassle, a burden, i just have nothing to say. i didn't exactly MEAN TO start the daily writing but just like anything that happens more than once in a row [since once in a row is fairly simple to accomplish] writing more than one day in a row opened the potential for it to become a thang i dew.

everybody's got thangs they dew. the thangs yew dew [can] define yew. like, remember phastguy? he does this thang where if someone on the message board says... hmmm... maybe something like, "capitalism is the best method to accomplish fair wealth distribution." yeah, if you say something like that he will post a bunch of increasingly longer rants and stomp out of the virtual room. it's a thang he dew.

but i digress.

the daily writing thang i dew just sort of happened but then after a while, you know, it was rolling and that's when it's more difficult to stop than to keep it going. i mean, of course, it is obvious, goes without saying - tomorrow could be the day i miss. in a couple weeks when i am off to brigadoon, well, there'll likely be some misses there unless i preload which is sort of like cheating but not really because i still have to write something it's just not written that day.

but i digress.

let us ponder this writing every day thing. to do this, you've got to have something to say, right? sometimes it's drivel, sometimes it's reruns, sometimes it's pictures. today it's navel gazing. not everything can be a blue suitcase post, but without the other stuff, there would never be a blue suitcase post.

when i see something odd or funny, i'll make a note to share it here. i take pictures on purpose just to share here. does the discipline of daily writing teach one to look at the world a bit more closely, look for incidents, anecdotes to share, or does a person who looks at the world a bit more closely, looks for incidents, anecdotes to share, does that person naturally fall into daily writing? chicken? egg? chegg?

this evening i took the long way home b/c what's the point of having a car on a pretty day if you can't stick a jakob dylan cd in and just drive, eh?

in other news, the blinker in the little slingshot blinks in time to boston's it's been such a long time. it's been such a long time... it's been such a loooooong teyeyeyeyemm!!

yesterday at the futbol parc the dad goes to his kids, «if you guys don't get in the car right now, you're going straight to bed when we get home!» kids: here's a hint, don't get in the car!

today coworker1 was talking to coworker2 about those fizzy kool-aide thingies, and coworker1 goes, «those beauty of those packs is that they add the interactive entertainment piece.» you call it "interactive entertainment piece"... we humans call it "fun".

okay, on teevee, the weatherman just now said - «does the return of clouds mean more rain?» and really, i am just now going to axt you, isn't that his job to know that?


can you see the pic? says «fits most brands except GE». HAHAHA! except GE!!!! HA!


and, finally a poetic number for you. go slingshot!

i ventured down there again and still didn't find the sleeping bag, and no, it's not in the closet either. i did find this, though.

my sleepy touch finds cold, damp stone.
the tide of fog rolls in.
diluted rays, obliquely warm,
catch sight of a lonely fin.

the hungry, squawking birds advance.
a whole flock comes in sight.
the weakest ones don't have a chance
when vying for a bite.

a pale and liquid sun remembers
how to burn through clouds.
a wet flame in the seaside timber
disperses the raucous crowd.

my tired eyes squint and turn away
as sunshine floods the air.
another morning on the bay,
the gulls don't seem to care.

/19 dec 1984/

candlestickmaker

we've been watching a bit of the french open - specifically the women's final yesterday and the men's today. francesca schiavone won the women's final in a bit of an upset over samantha stosur. they referred to each other in the after-match speeches as "frank" and "sam" which sound a bit like the butcher and the baker. whatever. okay. so, here's a pic of schiavone. she's 65" short, a fiery little italian lady whose appearance - rather than precisely fitting the tennis courts - more precisely place her in the alley behind the trattoria, throwing out the fish heads, with a sigaretta dangling from her bocca. the camera caught her several times delivering the message "i will cut you!" in her sideways glances. her spirit was unmatched by the reserved and rather robotic sam stosur, a 69" tall australian surfer. sam's built rather like a brick house and compared to frank's wirey build, you'd have to favour sam as the likely winner. we of course cheered for the underdog. as the match progressed, it became increasingly obvious that frank's confidence was going to carry her through - she just got stronger and stronger, making smart plays to stosur's weaker backhand and maintaining a diligent focus on returning stosur's serve. schiavone was down in the second set 4-1 and came back to tie it up 4-4. the set & match ended in a tiebreak with schiavone taking the 5 final points straight up to win 6-4, 7-6 (2). schiavone was ranked 17th in the world; stosur, 7th. schiavone turns 30 later this month, making her the oldest woman since 1969 to win her first grand slam. stosur is 26. last year in the first round of the french open, stosur beat schiavone. this year, the tables turned.

because i am tired, that's why.

blast from the past 1

blast from the past 2

blast from the past 3

blast from the past 4

blast from the past 5

blast from the past 6

again with the no pictures. get over it. this is not yahoo!, you yahoo.

for training today on the new computer system, officelady & i were in the same class. things got started off on the right foot when instructor asked officelady to sign in. officelady said, "somebody already signed in for me." instructor said, "no they did not." officelady said, "yes, they did. see? my name is right there." instructor said, "that's the 'name' column. see? this is the 'signature' column, the one with everyone's signatures, beside their names?"

sigh.

class started at 9AM so long about 9:10 everyone is chatting because isn't that why you say class starts at 9? so everyone can sit around and chat? right. so, coworker1 says, "going back to school after having the baby just about killed me." and instructor replies, "oh, school is fun!" and coworker1 goes, "yes! school is fun! fun!" well, which is it there coworker1 - just about killed you or fun! fun!, eh?

sigh.

coworker2 sat in a chair and it broke. no, not b/c she is fat, although that would have been humorous. [oh, relax your politically correct self. fat people breaking chairs is funny! funny!] so, the chair was just a bit wack and it broke, so she pushed it "out of the way" which was interestingly, directly between my chair and the wall so that i was sort of trapped in the desk. she said, again, "i am just pushing it out of the way." i grasped the rolling chair firmly in both hands, twirled it around, and pushed it forcefully at the far wall, where it came to rest in a space which was truly out of the way. i then turned back around to finish my game of spider solitaire, as it was still pre-class chat 'em up time and ace don't chat, yo.

sigh.

in front of me was seated the typical "eejit" student. instructor gave the intro and said, "all right - everyone with me?" and eejity-coworker raised her hand, waited to be called on, and said, "i did not understand a single thing you said." instructor blinked. blinked. bal-leenked. then she said, "maybe when we get to the hands-on part that will help." firstly, eejity-coworker demonstrably speaks english, so it's a bit of a zaggeration for her to say she understood nothing, and secondly, keep reading here to see how well the hands on part was designed, sure to overcome eejityness.

sigh.

the class began with the instructor telling us to open a browser window and type in the url to get to the software. there were myriad choices on the desktop for opening a browser because for previous classes on other softwares the instructors had created a shortcut to simplify access to the software and avoid the very first class activity being a task rife with complication and error. if not using a shortcut, an instructor can ease software location for the class by writing the url on the wall-size white board. for our class, the instructor chose to do neither of these things, leaving us floundering for the correct syntax, feeling we'd failed at our first assignment. way to get us started on the road to success, there instructor!

sigh.

one of the folks who was supposed to be in class walked by the open door. the instructor remarked on the fact and said, "if he didn't want to come to class, he should have just said so." one of the class attendees said, "maybe it was a fig newton of your imagination." oh, yeah, nothing like a trite pun to really set off the humour rockets.

sigh.

when he walked by again, instructor called him out: "coworker3! i thought you were going to be out all week!" he came to the door, faced her snide grin, and said, "i will be out the rest of today and i have been out the first three days this week." instructor's pithy comeback was something to the effect of, "oh."

sigh.

at one point, instructor had put some items in the cart. no, this is not a commerce system. no, it's really not. not at all. but, it does have a cart. and, you place orders. because, you know, software should make sense like that. sigh. and so instructor is staring at the projection image of her monitor, up there on the screen, and she's going, "why isn't it showing where my items are? why? why?" and i am like, "the cart is displaying as red. they're in the cart where you put them, which is indicated, with the red."

sigh.

the cart shows in the directory tree. that's right. you heard them both there. the CART which should show as an ICON of some sort is displayed in what is called the DIRECTORY TREE which is such a wildly outdated dos term that i doubt many of the folks in the room even know that "directories" are what we now, in the windows world, call "folders". directory tree? really?

sigh.

meanwhile, thru the hands on part, eejity-coworker was checking her bank balance, facebook, and yahoo! news! she gleaned enough information from a yahoo! news! quiz! to declare aloud at the end of class, "well, we didn't have any chemistry - no wonder the date didn't go well. i had a first date last night, and he just was not a buttery cream cake to me." yeah, i don't know.

sigh.

book review

finished local news. it was okay-good, but felt somewhat incomplete. oddly, it was the second missing child book i'd read this year, the first being the last child. definitely the first one i read was the better. this one... it was stronger at the beginning, with the characters being more clearly drawn and the plot better defined. later it drifted, which may have been designed as a reflection of the main character's drifting life-focus, but it was made the story less compelling than it could have been. there was unfulfilled potential for compellingness. it would have worked better had more parts been clear than unclear - the plot, the characters, the inner-life narration, something. if one part is out of focus, then it is brought into relief by the focused parts. if all parts are out of focus, it's just a messymess. overall, it was okay but not great.

books 2010

currently:
harry potter & the sorcerer's stone
[jk rowling]

complete:
the local news
[miriam gershow]
the magicians
[lev grossman]
benjamin pratt & the keepers of the school: we the children
[andrew clements]
water for elephants
[sara gruen]
the last child
[john hart]
the youngest templar: the keeper of the grail
[michael p. spradlin]
the last song
[nicholas sparks]
the magykal papers
[angie sage]
the memory of running
[ron mclarty]

i don't have time for pix or really a title so you are just going to have to make do with a bit of verbalization.

nobody ever actually spoke latin. who the hell are they trying to kid with that crap? it's way too complicated. have you ever been around any 2-years-olds's? eh? they cannot even grasp "i" means "me" except when "you" means "me" if "i" say "you" to "you". jeez. 2-years-olds's can't even speak english, how could they possibly learn to speak latin? you wonder why folks say latin's dead? because it was never freakin alive in the first place! latin is a rock, an inanimate object. it's good for legalese and medicalese because there's a certain precision in its aloofness. all that said to say that when mini-me took latin in secondary school, she should have been awarded extra double bonus [in latin, bonus means good] points over her eejity peers who were tequilaing their way through espagnole. [p.s. nobody ever did math with roman numerals, either. get freaking serious.]

so i was just sitting here taking a wee bit of a nappynap because i am a mite knackered after the longish day and the hottish running, and i heard myself snoring which is always such a pleasant reminder of one's foible-ridden humanity, and then i was like... more... awake... and hearing something i couldn't place. at first, i thought it was the fridger going dead. poor old harvest gold fridger. but no, that wasn't it. then, i thought it was a noise being made by the landscape-business-entreprenuer-pig-owner next door. they can make quite a racket what with their loads of mulch being delivered and their work crews driving through the yard to reach the bonfire setup in the back to dump the brush from their clients' yards. then i thought that if i could hear all that racket from outside, the window must be open and what kinda freakin lunatic do i live with that he would leave the winder open in 90º weather?! so i got my nappynap ass up and wandered to the winder, but no, the winder's not open. as long as i was wandering around, i spent a few moments pinpointing the sound and lo & behold it was coming from the chimbley! something done be in my chimbley! i went outside to catch a gander at it, and the ginormous sycamore is sic'ing the chimbley. you might be surprised to learn that particular happenstance can make a sound unlike any other, and therefore, a bit difficult to nail down. speaking of nailing down, i am betcha'ing that our chimbley is going to need a bit of nailing down upon the clearance of this happenstance.

the other day we were watching some kinda video countdown - greatest country hits of all times or some such nonsense. then came along that clint black song about "ain't it funny how a melody can bring back a memory, take you to another place & time, completely change your state of mind..." and of course the irony is that song's so old that it is that very melody itself that is now the memory catalyst.

i heard on npr the other day that catholic charities - which is a nationwide charity organization organized by catholics - collected $150mill for katrina relief while receiving a bit less than that for nashville flood relief and to help out those suffering from the results of the most recent gulf oil spill. for the former they received (are you ready for this?) two donations totalling (are you ready for this?) $600. for relief to those in the gulf, they received $520. the press release on the catholic charities website is dated 27 may so it doesn't represent the latest totals, but i really think you can hang with me on this one and say - what the???

and on top of that, it smells bad.

i went downstairs to look for my sleeping bag and those poems i wrote in college and i used up all the time i would have spent writing something here because i thought i would copy in one of those poems, but i didn't find them. didn't find my sleeping bag, either.