pluswise, no bux nearby, so that's a drawback right there.

it was drive-yourself day at carpool, so i was not busy conversing during the commute, i was busy listening to jakob dylan. i heard:

plant and reap and plow and sow...
but tell me, will it grow?
will it grow?

i am fairly certain this song is about actual farming practices and not the metaphorical planting of love, although the words fit either way. but i do think it's about real dirt & water farming. i personally know a dirt & water farmer. no, really. i do. she's got a blog and all but i don't do links, so if you were wanting to know more about her, you can google sunnyfieldfarmlife. this is the one you want:


the thought of chucking suburbia and venturing into a dirt & water existence is tempting. the simplicity of working where you live. the daily engagement with the earth and the animals. the straightforward garden-to-table subsistence. but it's a serious asston of work.

plant and reap and plow and sow... and plant and sow and plow and reap... and plant and plow and sow and reap... and plow and sow and reap and plant... and again... and again... and again. it's relentless work and it doesn't even always pay off. the stupid chickens die and the stupid apple trees get infested with japanese beetles. as much as life is right there in your hands on a farm, so is death.

so, it's not easy and not always fun, but work that is so closely tied to its outcome is innately appealing. who doesn't want to see the fruits of their labor? to think, i had a hand in this. i had a hand in this goat's milk. i had a hand in this honey. i had a hand in these berries. i had a hand in this.

i would like to join a csa - community supported agriculture. in case if you don't know, it's where you buy a share or two in a farm, and you get a share or two of the produce. farming requires a big up-front investement every year, so you pay into the spring planting. then, all summer and fall, the csa delivers (or, you pick it up, or whatever, shut up with the details) boxes of food to you. produce. eggs. honey. milk. cheese. meat. different csa's do different stuff. csa's are not big commercial ops. they're small family farms, growing stuff organically, the kids in the field pulling up beets, barefoot in the organic chicken poo fertilizer probably getting worms.


but i digress.

i would like to join a csa, but i am afraid. it's the relentlessness all over again. every week with a freaking load of produce that i am going to have to process. i am not a big produce processor. i don't make bok choy bread or corn tater soufflé. pluswise, there's just the two of us. we cannot absorb a bushel of brussels sprouts in an entire year, much less in a week.

i know. i could learn to use the produce. i know. i could share with my coworkers. i know. i could share with the less fortunate. i know. it's good to support the local economy and the local small farmer. I KNOW, OKAY? jeez, get off my back. you're such a nag.

i would like to join a csa because i would like to be that sort of person who belongs to a csa. a vicarious farmer.


but even vicarious farming's a commitment. you've got to take the box of produce every week and do something with it. you've got to commit to spend the time on it, which means you have to carve out the time and set it aside, and you have to plan around it. elsewise, you're just throwing your money away. what if i get invited to six flags, but i cannot go because there's a box of beets relying on me. yikes. i feel all hemmed in just thinking about it.

howbout i go to the farmers market and buy some local produce of a type i will use in an amount i will use up within a reasonable timeframe? not vicarious farming so much as vicarious csa membership. yes, i think that's a commitment i could manage.

day

it was just a day, like any other day. the air was cool in the morning and there was dew on the grass, then the sun rose and dried the dew and heated the air. the day became warm and a gentle breeze ruffled through the trees. it was warm but not hot and because it had rained in the night, the sky was clear - scrubbed and bright. it was a just a day, like any other day. well, like any other day to most people. to milly, it was not like any other day. to milly, it was the first day.

my takeaway: c'mon lady - it only turns one shade of green!

speeding is the #1 cause of car crashes.

32,788 people were killed in car crashes in 2010.

defensive driving is driving to save lives, time, and money in spite of conditions around you and the actions of others.

RUA safe driver?
recognize the hazard.
understand the defense.
act correctly, in time.

the fatal four driving behaviours are: speeding, failure to yeild right of way, driving left of center, tailgating. (who knew eating a few burgers in the parking lot before the game could be deadly?)

drivers with more bumper stickers are more aggressive and get more tickets.

to avoid a head-on collision:
read the road ahead.
drive to the right.
reduce speed.
ride off the road.

if you feel yourself getting upset, quack like a duck.

you choose what you think.

driving is a social behaviour. do you play well with others?

driving in a bold, selfish, or pushy manner without regard for the rights or safety of other drivers.

you don't know why other people are driving poorly.

that other driver might not be teachable.

25% of all crashes in 2008 involved talking on mobiles.

reaching for a moving object increases the risk of a crash by 9x.

talking on a mobile phone is a distraction equal to .08 blood alcohol level.

mobile phone talkers think they're aware and they're not, which is their downfall.

the average amount of time your eyes are off the road when you're texting is 4.6 seconds.

a mobile phone increases driver impairment by 91%. smoking the funky grass increases driver impairment by 35%.

a driver license is a privilege, not a right.

if you refuse to do the breathalyzer, you violate implied consent for which the punishment is loss of your license for a year. you violate implied consent even if you are not legally drunk.

an "open" container is alcohol within the reach of the driver, whether it's open or not.

if you cannot feel your head, you should not be driving.

1 person is injured every 1 minute by a drunk driver.

in a primary enforcement state, you can be pulled over if you're the driver and not wearing a seat belt. 18+ year olds in the back seat don't have to wear seat belts, but without a belt, a passenger can become a projectile and injure or kill others.

unsecured belongings can kill you in even a slow speed collision.

don't be overinflated.

let your foot off the gas and steer into the skid.

it can take a mile to stop a train.

animals are another dangerous part of traffic.

give me a box of mac & cheese and some pop tarts, and i'll be all set.

for the kitchen, you can purchase specific pieces of equipment to store spice bottles, cook meatloaf, make shell-less hard cooked eggs, slice those eggs, bake brownies you don't have to slice, drain tuna cans, open jars, stopper jars, melt chocolate, store your storage containers, serve heated chips & dip, and ever more wide ranging plethora of slicers and dicers and choppers and cookers and bakers and servers and storers. there are cups and bowls that are guarenteed not to spill and tools of all sorts with catchplates and catchpans and catchbowls, and if a foodstuff does somehow evade its container, there are all manner of wiper-uppers.

i own a special tool for opening cans. how else you gonna open cans? hammer and nail? and a special tool for uncorking wine. but really, you'd be surprised to find how much you can do with a cheap paring knife, a wooden spoon, a good pair of $3.50 scissors, and a set of revereware. when we moved in here over 20 years ago, my BFF from senior high gave me a cutting board i have used continually and in fact used just this morning. it's small, plastic, an absurd shade of pink, and so far hasn't demonstrated any special skills, but when food prep is not a hobby, you don't really need a skilled cutting board.

chris christie said - "stop working on your tan and get off the beach!" and you know he added "dumbasses!" but they couldn't report that on the news.

NYC's mayor says - "stay inside." it's gonna rain, see. a whole lot. i was watching some news coverage today of the preparations in NYC for the arrival of hurricane irene, and NYC'ers are taking this seriously. they've shut down the subway and other trains, buses, airports. the officials told folks to get out of town, and while i am sure the millions of citizens of gotham have not all left, a good number probably heeded the advice. why stay? it'll be difficult to get around and pouring down rain. i mean, you could sit inside for a couple days and read a book, but who does that? on this news report i was watching, they showed construction sites around NYC all packed up and put away, loose equipment and supplies battened down. probably many millions of dollars being lost having to pay the union workers for time not on the job.

NYC is not a city like other cities. it's many small cities all mushed together. queens and the bronx are not like manhattan, brooklyn, staten island. so many people, so many neighborhoods. for a while i dated a guy from jamaica, queens. that's jamaica, queens, new york, new york. it's like a city in a city in a city. neighborhood, borough, city, state. that's just not how it is anywhere else in the USA. most places, the city is in the county. in this case, the boroughs are counties, and they're inside the city.

i'd say the government of a monstrosity (monstercity!) like this would be a playground for corruption, but maybe i'm just being negative. i mean, i am sure all those NYC politicians are honest and have their constituents' best interests at heart. (i heart NYC!)

current NYC boundaries were created in 1898. old! until 1975, the borough of staten island was known as the borough of richmond. huh! manhattan borough is new york county. staten island is richmond county. the bronx is bronx county. queens is queens county. brooklyn is kings county. kings! NYC was originally nieuw amsterdam and was founded by the dutch in 1625. no word on whether they split the cost of the purchase from the indians. (oh, shut up. it's humour!)

here's a final interesting tidbit: jonas bronck came to the new world from sweden and settled land that bordered a river which was in turn called "bronck's river" and which in turn gave the name to the bronx borough.

in conclusion, if you live on the east coast - stay inside, dumbass!

i am fairly certain triscuits are good for you.

so in case you haven't heard, all the usa's kids are fat-fatties. just rolly polly fatty fat fat FAT. big ol' heads, big ol' feet, big ol' bellies full o' meat.

and the caretakers of these children are wringing their collective hands and shaking their collective head. what to do? where did we go wrong? what is the cause? what is the solution?

(excuse me, but i am craving some triscuits. brb!)

okay, where was i? right. school lunch leads to fat kids. what, i hadn't got there yet? well, it's the logical conclusion. it's what all these kids have in common. the vast majority of the nation's children are in public school and the vast majority of these public schooled children eat the lunch provided and the vast majority of lunches provided are high calorie concoctions.


part of the issue is the difficulty making healthy food in large quantities. having cooked (well, watched people cook) for a summercampful of kids at brigadoon, i can tell you firsthand: cooking large quantities of healthy food is difficult! it's much easier to pop open a can of spaghettios and toast up some smilie fries, than to broil chicken and chop bits for salad. so, it's the institutions's fault, right? they should put forth the effort to make good food.


pluswise, the kids don't want broiled chicken, do they now? no, they want the junk. it's easier to give them what they want in the institutional setting than to fight hundreds of little food battles. it's the parents's fault, right? they should have taught their kids to love broiled chicken.

looking at the school schedule, there's generally about 30 mins for lunch, which melts down to 15 or fewer mins when you consider the kids are going to their lockers, the restrooms, all that diligent hand warshing time, standing in line for their food, finding a place to sit that's not too close to the nerds. lunch isn't about eating at all!


okay, but it is about eating, and when you get down to the eating part, you've got like 10 mins. you can chew up an apple, chew, chew, chew, or slurp down some applesauce - DONE! you can chew a salad or swallow some mac & cheese. carrot sticks or french fries. broiled chicken or mashed up chicken stuff with noodles in sauce. it's quicker across the board to eat the processed food because it's pretty much already chewed up.


so there you go. it's the parents's fault for not teaching the kids to love healthy food and for not taking the time to prepare individual, nutritious, and entertaining meals for their adored kiddos to eat at school, and it's the schools's fault for not spending more time on food prep, for taking the easy way out with the cans and the mashes, and for not allowing enough time for the kids to eat a raw lunch.

and, don't even get me started on the snack machines. better all the kids just eat their looseleaf.

alls i know is - it is not beiber fever.

hey! i've been sick. did you miss me?

who does that? who makes blogs into personal conversations? apparently, quite a few folks. i read this article in the new york times and while i would not have said that i am The Most Original Writer Ever, i was a bit disconcerted to learn that i am somewhat of a cliché. however, one bit of encouragement arose: i am a gen-x or gen-y cliché, and not like a baby boomer cliché. which is of course appropriate since i am not a baby boomer nor should i in any way be confused with that group. just nice to not be classified with the fogies.

so anyway, i have been sick. got a headache friday and nothing would kick it and got more and more tired and then slept like... 18 hours sunday-monday and then went to the doctor on monday which was only yesterday. huh. time is so weird when you're sick. anyway the doc said it's a mystery and did some tests and based on the results the diagnosis is viral infection which could mean a lot of things. doc said to stay away from people, which is just such a burden on me (haha), because firstly i could be contagious but secondly i could catch something else. turns out when you get a viral infection sometimes that lowers your guard to a bacterial infection, so you'll think you are having a relapse but you've really contracted something else. so, i'll be working at home for the remainder of the week and just thanking goodness that that's okay with my boss.

okay, sorry but i gotta take a nap now.

if you didn't want to talk, why did you sit down?

lots of people wear cute shorts. why can't i find cute shorts?

the last two times i've turned on this little computer here at the bux it has spontaneously rebooted, and this time, it threw in the blue screen of death just for good measure. worrisome.

i know (well, sort of know) some folks who are today running a 100 mile race out in colorado. sounds marvelous. am i lazy because i would rather toddle around in self-propel mode for 24 hours than make the bed?

this watch band is driving me nutso because the velcro is all worn out, but when i tried to get a new one, i couldn't find one. i did, however, see a brand new watch that i liked. i would miss the mystery answer watch, but maybe it's time for something new. time. haha. funny.

i used to be a ballcap wearer. now, not so much.

the kitchen scissors were getting old, dull, and difficult to sciss, so i bought some new ones. i splurged and spent $3.50, and boy howdy, that is like the best $3.50 i spent in a good while. those are some nifty scissors. nice weight, good responsiveness, sharp. they're scotch brand, and i recommend them.

miranda lambert has this trio called pistol annies. their first album isn't out yet, but you can download it on itunes, but you have to download the whole thing instead of individual songs, so even though we liked the sound, we didn't download it.

one of my coworkers has a fish in a jar on her desk in the office. a living fish. we don't have any pets at home right now, but having a pet at the office seems sort of weird to me.

when i was here last, i got a coffee and a pack of almonds, and you might think those wouldn't go together, but they did - it was a good taste. i got a cold tea today because i am really too thirsty for coffee. and, no snacks today even though i am hungry because i don't want to spoil my supper.

remember when you used to have to have (<<-- non-redudant repetition) a pack of playing cards to play solitaire? remember packs of playing cards? back in the day, everyone at brigadoon had a pack. lots of on-bunk solitaire at rest hour. lots of gin rummy. what ever happened to playing cards?

we usually drink skim milk for the low fatness, but i don't know much about milk or whether milk fat is truly detrimental to my health. skim definitely goes down easier. more easily? whatever.

today we were going to throw away an old bicycle, but this guy who'd come to the dump on a trash run just like us, he said he wanted it, so we were like, hey okay, man, here you go.

are there high school archery teams anywhere in the usa?

i'd rather be a hammer than a fried egg.

why do we all live in rectangle houses with triangle tops?

yeah, i generalized. whatever. get over it. i know eskimos live in igloos which are round, and hobbits live in hillsides which clearly do not have triangle tops. apartment houses have swimming pools on their roofs (not triangle), and there's a guy down the road lives in a castle tower turret thingie. but the vast majority of people live in straight up houses with the triangle tops.

how did that design get to be the norm? what fittest test did it survive? most likely to induce mind-numbing boredom.

sometimes you can see a house that's set back from the road, in the trees, just barely peeking through, and it's a box with a tricorn hat. you're back there in the trees - no one is looking - you can have anything you want back there, so why do you have the same old thing? pluswise, who cares if folks are looking?

maybe folks are afraid to be different. maybe creative building is cost-prohibitive. maybe houses are only like this around here, so i have a limited data sample and shouldn't generalize.

i live in a straight up house with a pointy top. why? it was here when we needed it. that's my excuse. what's yours?

your ringtone could be used to repel rodents.

it's something i've always wanted to do, but i must not want it badly enough to make it happen. i mean, yeah, it's complicated, but still - things you want, you make them happen. i could start small and go for two weeks in the summertime, but my two spare weeks in the summertime are spent at brigadoon. would i rather be on the appy-t than at bridagoon? false dichotomy.

brigadoon is something i know how to make happen, so it's orders of magnitude closer to my grasp than the appy-t. closer is easier than far away.

and, there's a couple folks at brigadoon who are counting on me now, to go so they can go. not that i couldn't say - sorry, folks, but i gotta do this other thing. because i could. i could say that. but saying that would lead to disappointment and disappointing other people is hard, so it's easier to go to brigadoon.

and, i love the brig, so would i really want to give up my once-a-year chance to be there in order to go do this other thing that i don't even know if it would be fun or good or just hellish? it's easier to do the known thing.

and, brigadoon is free, so that's a big plus right there. well, this year i spent like $80 on harmonicas and harmonica instruction books, but still - free room & board. the appy-t isn't cost intensive while you're doing it - there's not a galleria out there and you don't have to pay for a hotel room - but it IS cost intensive to get out there. you've got to get a bunch of equipment. free is easier than expensive.

so, brigadoon is free, known, and close, and my being there makes other people happy. the appy-t is expensive, unknown, far away, and potentially disappointing to others. all the weight's on the brig side of the scale.

i am not getting any younger, though, am i?

chinese music under banyan trees

so the guy sitting behind me is using a typewriter and when i sat down i was all like - hey, a typewriter, that's cool. and he was like - yeah, i can't afford a computer. huh. can't afford a computer because you're spending all your money on those frappawhatsies you're sipping there, buddy. sheesh. he seems to be hitting the same letter over and over again. i am old enough to know what typing sounds like and that ain't it.

this place is crowded tonight. school's back in session, brings out all the homework doers. or, buxwork doers, as the case may be. someone is soaking up the bandwidth, making the internet run slow like molasses. it's either the guy with the ipad watching a movie or the guy with the typewriter's got a connexion to mars and he's streaming a live feed from his brethren into his brain.

yeah, okay, maybe i didn't sufficiently explain he's sort of creepy. i mean, i wouldn't go around making assertions of alien parentage about normal people, but this guy... what are you doing with that typewriter, buddy? typing out a line of b's or something. bbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbb. yikes.

speaking of yikes, can you see this pic?


kevin federline has had 5 kids? i didn't even know he had a uterus, so... well... wow. just wow.

hey, typing guy has gone to the restroom. well, he went about 10 mins ago. what the hell you doing in there, typing guy? no, wait. i do not want to know. here, i snapped you a shot of his work area. he's really moved in here. there's no telling what he's up to in the restroom.

YOU MUST PAY THE RENT! i can't pay the rent! YOU MUST PAY THE RENT! i can't pay the rent! YOU MU-- "I'll pay the rent!" my hero! CURSES, FOILED AGAIN!

where's that line between comfortable and lazy? is it different for everyone? is it obvious when you hit it? obvious to you? to everyone else?

me and my old man have been together now a long time. over half my life, nearly half his life. it's something to spend your entire adulthood with someone. something good? something bad? yes. something.

we do all the regular longtimetogether things - finish each other's sentences, mock each others foibles, push each other's buttons. it's reliable. dependable. safe. secure. comfortable.

the challenge is when comfortable bumps up against lazy and boring. it's tough to surprise someone you've known so long, but that's not to say you shouldn't try.

comfortable is a sunday drive in the country. boring is a sunday drive on the same road every week. a pleasant surprise is a drive in the country that culminates in a picnic. it's like that time we went to chick-fil-a. remember?

okay, i know. some surprises are not a picnic. some surprises are "the water heater bursted" or "i dropped the chainsaw on my foot" sort of surprise. not that those don't add a little spice to the relationship - not to mention an excellent story to the repertoire - but those aren't generally the type folks go wishing for.

in conclusion, if you're thinking your long-term relationship needs a little surprise action, bring home a kitten.

change your oil. change your socks. change your kitty's litterbox.

i found out today that the wendy's caramel frosty shake has 1000 calories. included in that calorie count is the whipped cream, and i don't even like whipped cream, so that would save me like 800 calories right? yes. right. not that it matters. i mean, firstly, i am just not that fussed over the calorie count, and secondly, i wouldn't say i am a big shake drinker anyway. so, if i want to have a shake, i will have it, and it's not an everyday thing, so i am not going to get all in a tizzy over the calories. right? yes. right. i mean, i don't dream about milkshakes or anything. but, if i were going to dream about them, the arby's jamocha would take a prominent role. wendy's and sonic both make a coffee shake, and they're mighty tasty. i had a really good strawberry shake at DQ the other day (thanks, elvis!). so, it's not that i don't like shakes. i do like them. they are okay and fine and sometimes quite delicious, but if i have a choice, i will choose a hot coffee and a warm scone.

just another typical blatherfest slapped together so that i can quickly return to my harry potter readingfest.

i am not one of those figity (fidgity?) people who always has to be doing something. i am perfectly content to sleep, to watch teevee, to read a book. well, for a day at least. i mean, if it were my whole life, sure, i would get bored. maybe. possibly. probably. c'mon, certainly i would get bored. right? but just for a day, i can sit and read a book.

my old man, not so much. he gets all wonky if he doesn't "do something" every day. that "something" doesn't necessarily have to be elaborate. could be as simple as taking the 80-yr-old neighbor to home depot or going to the gym for a while. i guess he's more puritan and i am more... what... irish setter? (setter? get it? cause i like to set around??? HAHAHAHAH!!)

whew. i am all worn out from making that joke.

it's not that i don't like to be productive. i get that it feels good to do something - i just don't have to do something to feel good. i am fine with a day relaxing.

i am also fine with a day spent all on my own.

yesterday was meant to be an alone-day so i had lined up a whole slew of things that i enjoy doing alone and i was looking forward to it. i like to be alone. then, an "opportunity" arose on friday -- an opportunity to spend the day with other people. my old man was all, if it were elvis and priscilla you would drop everything and go do whatever they wanted to do. i was all, yeah sure but i like them. my old man was all, well you're always saying that you don't have friends. i was like, yeah that's not a complaint.

this "opportunity" was presented to me as a "solution" to my "having" to be on my own -- because why would you ever want to be on your own all day? because other people make me fidgity (figity?) that's why.

my being alone is not a situation that needs solving.

why would they want to play golf in atlanta in august? they're all soaking through their shirts.

so i was like, yeah all they had was a 14 and i'm about half that, and he was like, so you're an 8, and i was all, um... more of a 6 but yeah, 6 or 8. he goes, didn't you used to be a 4? so i took out my gun, and i shot him.

2 - 4 - 6 - 8 - who do we appreciate? clothing sizers? hell no. the thing is that i am a 6 or 8 in that particular brand for which i was shopping tonight. one brand, one label, one line of clothing, and even within that tiny hemisphere, i have to try it on because it could be 6 or 8. oh, and from that very line, in my closet, i have a 4 that fits just fine, thankyouverymuch.

in my closet there's everything from 2 to 10, s to xl, long to short to up to down to in and out and all about. there are 10s that are tight and smalls that are loose and 6s and 8s that fit exactly the same one as the other.

the sizing chaos makes shopping into a complete aggravation. i don't even enjoy shopping in the first place. i do enjoy buying, but not shopping. i know what i like, why do i want to waste time looking around? i have specific ideas going in, which you'd think would make things simpler, but noooo - 9 times out of 10 what i imagine simply doesn't exist. color, cut, style, length - i know exactly what i am looking for. if i could sew, i would be all set.

thusly, combine the fact that i am looking for something specific with the fact that specific items are rare and furthermore, if by some force of magic i locate the item, then to purchase it with confidence i will be required to try on 3 or 4 sizes to find the one that fits me. chances are, if the item i want exists, it will not be available in my size.

lady hagen khaki skort size 6 or 8. i really don't think it's too much to ask.

bocks cocks docks hocks jocks locks mocks nocks pocks rocks socks tocks

i don't mind going to the grocery store. it's not like it's something i look forward to all week, but it doesn't bother me. sometimes i'll switch things up and go adventure grocerying by which of course i mean, go to a different store. oooo! excitement!

i usually go to this one publix or sometimes this other publix. when i first started going to this other publix, that was a bit of an adventure, but after being there a few times i realized the other publix is just like this one publix, only smaller. they have all the same basic stuff and that's it, so i can only find like 85% of what i am looking for and their produce is terrible. it's an adventure all right - an adventure in frustration!!!

there's a harris teeter along the way on the long way home. i drive past it all the time, so a few months ago i decided to just stop there and get the couple things i was needing. i always thought it would be a little snooty like where the deli would be called the delicatessen or something, but it's actually a bit shabby, and not that sort of down at the heels, used-to-be-snooty sort of shabby, but authentic always-been-shabby shabby. what a disappointment.

tonight i went to the whole foods, and that IS snooty. or, the customers are snooty. i am fairly certain all the folks working cashwrap are high, but they are really sweet and the computer does most of the work anyway. nothing like an angry wasted guy handling your money. not. good. anyway, i had stopped to get grapes, cherries, cereal, and i meant to get some triscuits to bring home and have with my cottage cheese + olives, but i was overwhelmed by the beauty of the prepared foods in the cold box by the salad bar and came home with a veggie quesadilla instead.

in conclusion, kroger is the worst grocery store in town and i wouldn't go there if you paid me. okay, if you paid me, yes, i would go krogering. maybe if you paid me like, $5 or maybe even $4 but nothing less than $4. no. i have thought about it and i am firm on this point: i will not go krogering for less than $4.

but we've only just got started

some days you feel like going out after work, maybe having a drink, dinner, taking in a movie, going to the gallery, even dancing perhaps, and some days you just feel like coming home and putting on that soft tee shirt and ratty shorts and plopping down in front of a good book.

i'm deep in the heart of harry potter for the third time, just finished year 5, the biggest book of the lot. that book's a monster, with a wide-ranging plot, rich in the scenery and props of the world rowling invented, bridging from the early years and setting the stage for the final chapters in books 6 and 7. the characters develop complexity, depth, good and bad, yin and yang. the whole book is tinged with a melancholy cast, and the ending is less definitive, less uplifting, less victorious than the previous stories. 870 pages, and all you want is to keep reading. when the books were first published, finishing that book and having to wait a year (or whatever it was) for book 6 to come out was just brutal.

so i've read the first 5, only two more to go, and i am already missing it before it's even gone. having read them before, i know how it all ends, sure, but most importantly, i know IT ends - the story itself ends. ms rowling wrote 7 books. that's it. full stop. end of transmission. it's almost hard to even start them knowing that they will be over.

8+9=17

the article headline says: 7 worst foods for your teeth. i am always curious about the health news, so i click to see the list:

soda
sports drinks
sour candy
energy drinks
fruit juice
citrus fruit
vinegar

only two of those things are technically food and only one is really, truly food. in conclusion, journalism has just gone to hell.

five products to avoid buying used.

they say:
1. cribs
ace says:
1. cribbage score pads

they say:
2. bicycle helmets
ace says:
2. bicycle shorts

they say:
3. child safety seats
ace says:
3. there's nothing funny about safety

they say:
4. children's outerwear with drawstrings
ace says:
4. children's underwear regardless of drawstring presence

they say:
5. toys
ace says:
5. weed

andrew henry is my hero because of his independent spirit and his ability to build things.

i am more into math & physics, less into history & biology, and don't much like chocolate at all. i have a sort of fetish for office supplies, prefer a manual transmission, and play a lot of tetris. i choose the mountains over the beach and books over magazines. if i could make the weather, it would be misty and 55º most of the days, and on the other days, it would snow. bagpipes, banjo, and harmonica are my favorite instruments. i drink a lot of coffee. i like to sit on the floor.

what did you say?

meant to say --i love you-- but it came out --go away--
meant to say --forever-- but instead said --not a day--
meant to say that you're the one i cannot live without.
you hung the sun and moon and stars. you banish all my doubt.
instead spent all night yelling, throwing things about.

you wonder why i cannot say the things you want to hear.
accuse me of belligerence, obstinance, and fear.
i tell you that i'm not afraid and i don't want to fight.
it's you won't let the matter go. you kept us up all night.
your cat has the solution, gone at dawning light.

i have a question of my own, now it's your turn to answer.
you found me out there all alone, why did you think --i'll chance her--
i never led you to believe that i was one to need you.
and you need to be needed so i never will complete you.
you lie to yourself, delusion will defeat you.

ocho cinco

i was going to write a rant about my coworker but i'm having concerns about anonymity so i'll just go with the generic "i hate idiots" and let that suffice. i hate idiots. there.

now, let's talk about yesterday's post. for those of you who imagine that poem is anything but a work of fiction, don't be an idiot. it's just something that sprouted out of my noggin. and, that's what i'd like to talk to you about today. how the hell does that sproutation happen? well, wait. i know technically "how" i guess. i mean, i can tell you what occurs. but i don't know the mechanism behind the occurrance.

occasionally, a line or two will just appear in my head. in this case, it was just the first line (meant to say --i love you-- but it came out --go away--). i heard it in my head and i was intrigued. how can you mean to say one thing, and it comes out another? did you mean to lie, and the truth came out, or vicie-versie, meant to be genuine, but instead you deceived? there's also a really intriguing element of being caught by surprise by one's own words.

when i get a line or two like that, i will roll it around my brain and see if anything else sticks to it. i do that by saying it to myself over and over again. it's like having a song lyric stuck in your head except it's my own song. (meant to say --i love you-- but it came out --go away--)(meant to say --i love you-- but it came out --go away--)(meant to say --i love you-- but it came out --go away--)

after a while stuff will start to stick like snow on a snowball rolling downhill. sometimes it gets bigger in a hurry and i can hardly keep it in my head and i get sort of desperate to write it down. i'll write it down on anything - napkin, receipt, notebook, volume of harry potter. i'll call myself and leave a message. anything to get it out because it will absolutely not let go until i get it out. sometimes it doesn't grow that fast, and i can keep it in my head a while. sometimes it happens at night when i am falling asleep and i always, invariably, think i am going to remember it and i always, invariably do not. idiot.

so, let's see. this one, the next line (meant to say --i need you-- but instead said --please, don't stay--) was not too fast. also, it's not too good. who says, "please, don't stay". blech. unrealistic. forced rhymes are unpleasant. the first part (meant to say --i need you-- but instead said) is good. good rhythm, matches the construction of the first line and uses different connector words (but it came out vs but instead said). everything's good except the end is forced, but at this point, lines 3 and 4 are coming at me so i can't think about 2 too much.

the next two lines have a good internal rhythm. the words are natural language, not contrived, yet they are rhythmic and rhyming. (meant to say that you're the one i cannot do without. / you hung the sun and moon and stars. you're water to my drought.) also, there's something about the one long sentence followed by the two shorter sentences that builds the momentum of the poem. it's like a wave coming at you, then it crashes and breaks with the last line (instead spent all night yelling, throwing things about.). the last line is shorter than the others. the first four lines have 7 beats each. not syllables - beats.

iMEANT toSAY iLOVE youBUT itCAME outGO aWAY

the unstressed-stressed meter is iambic and the sections are generically called feet but in this case are iambs. there are seven feet to a line, so it's iambic heptameter. the first four lines are iambic heptameter. the last line (instead spent all night yelling, throwing things about.) is iambic hexameter. it's one foot shorter than the first four lines. the shortness provides a feeling of being dropped or let down. if you can imagine a conversation where it's building, Building, BUILDING, then drops off. the speaker is defeated and humiliated by his inability to control his temper. he doesn't want to talk about it, so he cuts himself off and switches directions.

but here's where i can run into trouble. i've got this first verse, and it's pretty great, but what happens next? another of the same? or, do we find out more about the speaker. turns out we find out more about the speaker. sometimes additional verses come easy. in this case, it didn't, and i am not happy with it so i am still working on it. it's hard to make the rhythm match a precident that was set by a magical flow of words. the first verse just came out of me, the second, not so much.

i had this: (why can i not say the things you want to hear?) but i just now rewrote it to: (why is it i cannot say the things you want to hear?) which hits the seven iambs a bit more tightly but is no less conversationally awkward. here, i imagine the speaker repeating back the words of the person he's talking to. like, "you want to know why i can't tell you i love you? well, i will tell you why." so, he's not questioning himself, he's parroting the other person. (am i being stubborn? is there something that i fear?) is also a repetition of what the unheard other party is saying. the speaker is mimicking, not nicely.

then he comes out with the answer: (i'm not afraid - i'm weary saying words i don't believe in.). that line came out pretty well. i liked ending on the unstressed syllable "in" which makes it become part of the last foot and in essense part of the word "believe". the next line is the crux of the matter. (hard to be the giving one with you always receiving.) reveals exactly why it's hard to say the words the non-speaker wants to hear - the effort is not reciprocated.

the speaker concludes with a threat, saying (ask me why again, you will find me leaving.). this line is forced and awkward. the momentum in the second verse didn't build the same way as it did in the first, but i still wanted to end on a short line, a hexameter line. the heptameter line would be "if you ask me why again, you will find me leaving" which is a much better line, but i wanted a hex, not a hept, so i lopped off the first foot. not yet convinced it works, and as it is the end of the poem, it needs to carry more than its own weight - it's got to carry the poem. it's not only that it's awkward, but the feet are crowded. "throwing things about" is very economical and that economy contributes to the falling-off feeling. "you will find me leaving" is not only round-about, it's wordy.

so, there you have it. i may never come back and rewrite the last line, but that doesn't mean it's finished.

say

meant to say --i love you-- but it came out --go away--
meant to say --i need you-- but instead said --please, don't stay--
meant to say that you're the one i cannot do without.
you hung the sun and moon and stars. you're water to my drought.
instead spent all night yelling, throwing things about.

why is it i cannot say the things you want to hear?
am i being stubborn? is there something that i fear?
i'm not afraid - i'm weary saying words i don't believe in.
hard to be the giving one with you always receiving.
ask me why again, you will find me leaving.

liveblogging from the bux

it is hot in here and they are out of those egg+bacon sandwiches. all they have is sweets and i don't want sweets. i want food. it's very hot. sweaty hot. 101º outside, probably 85º in here. pluswise, i am hungry but there are no sandwiches.

the guy at the next table appears to be conducting a drug deal. he sits all up on top of his computer, muttering into his phone. could be he just keeps his voice politely low and has a crick in his back. most likely it's hunchback phone porn.

the guy at the other next table keeps looking at me like he wants to start up a convo. hello? no. i don't talk to strangers. the girl sitting down by the door is eating chips with her mouth open. her mouth is already open, mr stranger danger, maybe she will talk to you.

someone must be streaming a movie because the bandwidth is sluggish, like molasses in january. well. january in say, vermont. january in sydney, not so cold.

there's a girl sitting alone at the big handicap access table, and she doesn't appear to be handicapped. disabled. lame. crippled. she appears to be none of those things, but she does appear to be underlining sections in a book she's reading. she also appears to be wearing her purse while seated. i guess when this place spontaneously combusts, she wants to be ready to bust a run.

i am actively sweating now. could the fact that i am drinking coffee have anything to do with that?

a young lady has arrived with a small boy. probably her son. could be her brother. she purchased for him a slice of marbled pound cake and a strawberry smoothie. seems like a big sister purchase, doesn't it. they are looking together at stuff on her iphone and laughing. he is laughing with his mouth full, and she is laughing with him, so i am thinking that's not how a mom would act. a mom would be all, no laughing with your mouth full. his shirt reads "ambercrombie". he is missing one of his top front teeth. they are speaking japanese to each other.

i am going to go play words with friends and then read my book.

it's been real, yo.

pair of dimes

as a follow up to this moment of brilliance, i emailed publix and explained what happened. consequently, i received a personal and congenial telephone call from the publix store manager. okay, technically speaking, as i do not make it a habit to speak on telephones, the manager left me a personal and congenial voice mail message. he said to come on in, ask for joe, and get myself some new bags on him. so, today, i went in and asked for joe, and not only did he allow me to get four bags to replace the ones that were given away, he said i should go ahead and get another one - "for all your trouble". see how kind? he did not even say all my trouble (as per usual) was self-induced. AND, not only did he give me four bags, AND not only did he give me five bags -- joe walked around to all the bag displays and shopped for bags with me.

i completed my shopping and was relating to the cashier the story of my former bags, and she was all, "yeah, i can totally get that. i am not very assertive either."

huh.