Sunday, May 29, 2005
I just watched the reunion of Vh1's Surreal Life. I'm in love with Jane Wiedlin all over again, she's so adorable and teeny. And I'm fascinated, as is everyone else who has apparently watched this show, with the woman named Chyna Doll/Joanie Laurer. I just stare at her wondering if she's a really great MTF trannie, but I think really she's actually a very tall, muscular woman with a strange falsetto. But she's wonderful.
Not sure why I'm watching so much tv lately. Not sure why I get bored and started in on the internet on the premise that I had to check my mail.
Have had a nice weekend. Yesterday was brilliant. Went to a baby shower/bbq for D and her familia and followed it up with a nice massage from my favorite CMT. I also ate some tacos and watched sappy movies when I got home. And the weather was Just My Size. Not too hot, not too nippy, but balmy and pleasant. Today was more of the same, and PF took me to the Sunflower Drive In again. I always get the same thing, and now I think he might be hooked too: veggie tostada + nutty taco meat. I think I should just make it at home, it's just like we made at Greta's: 1/4-1/3 cup carrot pulp (from juicer) to 1 cup of toasted ground pecans/walnuts, mixed with crushed garlic/1/8 tsp cayenne/sprinkle of salt/1/8 tsp cumin. That's it. And then you grill it like hash or make a nutburger out of it. Good ol' vegan yumminess.
Anyway. It's been a good couple of days. Tomorrow is Memorial Day. I've been thinking about heroes and people who went to war for this country and I have to say, I'm grateful., and I wish we were better at diplomacy so no one would have their lives swiped by arbitrarily detached decision makers at the top who could care less about actual human lives: who is killed and who they kill. That said, I am really glad we finally entered the chaos of WWII and I was watching a brilliant show on WWI and WWII military docs/practices this morning and forgot to check when it's going to be on again. But basically, they left wounds open to granulate because if they sutured soldiers up after removing shrapnel from their compound fractures, the guys would die like flies. So, they left the wounds bound in plaster, but unsutured, and most of the soldiers healed up okay. Antibiotics were precious, and docs couldn't see the same patient twice in one week, so you know they were miserable and in pain and thankfully didn't die from that torture alone. I really wish I knew what the program was called.
Friday, May 27, 2005
Congratulations Miguel! You ROCK ASS!!!! Miguel is graduating from City College this week after 5 long years of school finishing a GED and getting credits for university. He starts at UCD next year. He should be very proud of himself. His story is long, but amazing. Maybe he will let me tell it sometime.
In other news, it's my dad's bday. Happy 60th, Old Man, you are still cute. Even if you have that weird funky baby toenail that I managed to inherit and resent ever so much...
Tuesday, May 24, 2005
I walk like a duck with Cerebral Palsy these days. With my right foot kinda pigeoned out for stability. All I need is a hunchback to feel complete.
Actually, it's only happening if I stand too long. Feeding baby birds 2-3 days a week for 4 hours each time is wreaking havoc with my pelvic floor muscles. But hey, someone's gotta feed the crows! And I love them so, with their little gurgly puppy/kitty/bird noises. There was a line out the door today of people dropping off rescued birds which is crazy. It was NUTS I say. I walked in on the day tech who was explaining to some well meaning people that removing a fledgling on the ground who is being fed by it's parents is NOT protecting it from cats. The parent birds divebomb cats if their baby is viable, and usually chase them away. It only takes a couple of days for a fledgling to learn to fly properly. Still, people bring them in. While I don't mind, we do run out of room for the really injured birds: cat contact, poison, nest fallers, what have you.
And by the way, the majority of our nestlings come from people who discover the nests AFTER they cut down a tree. I wonder what would make people who have enough common sense to find a rehabber decide to cut down tree limbs in Spring/Summer??? Doesn't it make sense to cut the tree when, oh, you know, when it's not running with sap and vulnerable to disease and parasites?? Just an idea...I mean, how bad could it be that it couldn't wait till November? Sheesh. I really do not get people. Basic ecology and parenting classes should be requirements in middle school. Right around puberty. For the Dumbest Amongust.
So I guess it's okay that I walk like an injured duck these days. I spend most of my free time feeding the birds.
Sunday, May 22, 2005
What did I do today? I escaped the oppressor: Sacramento Summer. I actually just went to the mall with my sister and my mom. Gap holds nothing for me and I don't usually talk up a store, but if you go there, they have really cute melon colored capris, substantial fabric, nice cut. My sister needed something casual and summery to wear because of her poor leggy. She can't wear shorts or skirts right now, but all her jeans are winter weight and all her pants are businessy. We found two cute bottoms for her and she was thrilled. I also found some perfume, and it must be a brand new ambitious endeavor for them because they aren't online yet. I will always be a perfume-o-holic, though I've been really good and haven't bought anything in awhile, but I absolutely FELL IN LOVE with the grapefruity yum that is the scent of Silk Yuzu in the Gap Scent Editions single-note line. It's so good it makes me want to sit outside by the pool with a big tall glass of pink grapefruit juice and seltzer over ice. Doesn't that sound amazingly yummy right now? It's 90 degrees in the shade. Anyway. The single notes are just really pretty scents and they aren't expensive at all; you can mix them up for customized scents but just the one smell all day will boost you up a little. Boy do I wish I could find them online, but googled, you just get references and notations in articles. The yuzu scent comes in a roller wand, and the peony comes in a spray and there are a few others (Attn. Allykat: they have a very light tuberose scent that is PERFECT for your summer signature) that I might have bought if I hadn't dropped everything for the yuzu. I looked it up, and it's not actually a grapefruit per se, but rather a very smallish tangerine-y citrus fruit (thanks to she who eats) with lots of seeds that smells intensely of grapefruit (so I guess it's a grapefruit maybe.) Now I just want to eat some, or at least eat some marmalade made with it. Anyway. It's now my very favorite summer scent. I made the PF smell it and it reminded him of lychee. Which is good. If I smell like a favorite dessert, that's a good thing.
My favorite spring scents are Baby Grace by philosophy and Chanel No. 19 (but only in lotion) and my favorite autumn/winter scents are Fendi and Coco Chanel. I don't usually go for single notes, but anything that smells this intensely of fresh grapefruit and lasts this long without overpowering everyone else's personal scent is a good thing.
I gotta new hero. Member of Parliament, Gorgeous George Galloway. He's the guy that gave the most rousing testimony in front of a congressional hearing since Ollie North. I'd certainly pay to see this anti-war guy speak, he's got a great accent. Oh, I believed him. The guy did NOT falter and was incredibly accusatory, making the repugblisenators squirm and rearrange things in front of them while staffers whispered frantically in their ears, and they distractedly avoided eye contact with the brutalsy and refreshingly indicting Briton. Love at first sight, I say. Here, here. And I ask, why oh why don't we have a Demo or even an Indie who would slam so heartily the status quo? What does it take, a fall in ratings for GWB? Okay, we got's 'em, so let's have at it. There is something rotten in DC, and I think it's all the pathetic shadowy corpses of liars and sycophants that drowned in the river of deceit. I could be cooing too soon, but I don't care. Stuff needs to be said, and it just plain sucks that a Brit is the one saying it full frontal assault-like, but Americans are wimping out. And it's not that I enjoy watching my country look dumb, not by a long shot, but it's a hard lesson in reality that so many of us need. We need to feel shame and be embarrassed a little, we are absolutely ridiculous as a nation (I blame the flyover states), and should be chastised publicly when we make accusations (or war) that are/is unsupportable. Period. It's a need-to-know, and it's harsh. Big fat ouchie with no band aids.
The other "world event" that bugged the living daylights outta me this week was a Newsweek article that stated the Koran was being flushed down toilets in Guantanamo Bay. I personally couldn't care if ANY individual book (secular or religious) was flushed down a toilet or even if a flag was burned on top of it, it's the masses of book-burning freedom of speech actions that bother me. I am aware that there was alleged destruction of personal property, and that ain't okay. Apparently, they cared a little TOO much in Palestine, Malaysia, and Afganistan. 15 people were killed in riots over a Koran being flushled. That's being a little bit over-wroughtly ridiculous. And we apologized as a nation? Newseek recanted? For what? Because a bunch of assholes trampled 15 in a desert far, far away? If we are warring against a religious people, it just makes sense to psychologically piss them off even moreso, or incite indignation that we would 'never do such a horrid thing as flush a book dear gosh' no, we only kills children. But it worked, we incited violence in the Arab World (like that's freaking hard to do). 15 people were killed in riots over this ridiculousness and that's what floors me. The funniest part was that Pat Buchanan called Newsweek seditious because it made the jobs of our servicemen hard. ??? What planet is he on?? Do we have to spell out for these folks that BEING IN IRAQ IS FUCKING SCARY AS HELL NO MATTER WHAT? I about fell over laughing bitterly and bust my guts on a tv tray. By the way, we are deploying our national guardsmen and women now. Oh, the humanity.
It's a beautiful day. I should go outside and play and stop harping on the injustices of the world order.
I wonder if kickball has started up again midtown? I need to go check the listserve. I can't play for real because I can't run right now, but I'd love to be a "kicker". Or even just a cheerleader.
If it gets too hot, I may go to an early show of Revenge Of The Sith and see it without the PF because I'm all about picking fights today. Nah. I actually adore him too much to make him cranky with me right now.
My brother, who is not a woman, finished his student teaching program and now has a k-12 credential (I believe. He hasn't confirmed it yet, but that's what my mom told me.)
These are all just very good things. Congratulations to all of these fabulous gals.
Today is Ally's grad party. I'm very excited to meet some of the fam I haven't met yet, and to get to go to the Fabulous House out in El Dorado Hills. It's very pleasant and peaceful out there.
Last night was G-Bomb's bday. I totally missed it for reasons I couldn't control, but Happy Birthday, Darling Gal! I had the cutest outfit on and could barely walk due to lots of hours on my feet all day long; let's just say I was feeling very duckish. I just passed out on the couch watching I Heart Huckabees, which I agree was pretty odd and funny. I said it was like Time Bandits, and everyone looked at me quizzically, but it is.
This weekend I'm babysitting a Borzoi named Photon with a booboo footie and a gimongous e-collar. His sisters are in a Flyball tournament today and tomorrow, so it would have been hard to take him along with his bad footie. I heart Photon. If you ever see him around town or at a dog park, stop and say hola.
Thursday, May 19, 2005
This will make you smile if not laugh outright...Cat Shelving.
Emmy's did not disappoint, although the spaghettiandmeatballs have gone up a couple of bucks. Still worth every penny.
And I think I'll get my ass back to SF soon, because Palindromes is playing at The Castro. PF told me it's more disturbing than any of Solondz's other stuff, so of course, I want to take the bait. Even though Happiness freaked me out completely in a stunningly creepy way. Palindrome means a word spelled forward and backwards always the same, and Aviva is the name of the young character, and I'm guessing it's a theme. The Weiners make an appearance too. I have a feeling this is going to be weird, and the SF Weekly said it was a non stance on abortion. (The other thing that was great in this week's weekly was the Dan Savage column on HPV, I highly recommend it.)
It's still raining in the Bay Area, but right now in Fair Oaks, it's beautiful and the clouds are moving away.
Wednesday, May 18, 2005
I am heading to SF tonight to visit the PF on his own turf. My friend Chie is in town/northern california, and I miss her to pieces. I just found out she moved back to Socal. I think I'm psychic, because I emailed her a few times and those bounced back and I thought she was impossible to get ahold of, so I tried to put it out of my mind these last few weeks. Boom, outta the blue, she calls ME. Weird. It's happened many times to me, in similar ways, where I'll be thinking about someone I adore and haven't seen in ages rings me up to talk because "they've been thinking about me". I mean, why not? You make connections with people in various ways. It only makes sense that you can send out signals to them in air vibrations. Right?? Of course right...If all goes well, we'll be meeting her at Emmy's Spaghetti Shack in the Mission/Bernal Heights. I love that place. For 7 bucks or so you get a giant plate of spaghetti with GREAT marinara, and 3 huge-a meatballs. It ain't italiano, but it's very yum. The only thing I don't like about it is the loud DJ music that is 2 feet from your table, however it's tolerable if only for the yum foodies. It's definitely supposed to be this hip little hole-in-the-wall, which I generally just plain hate, but the tomato-pasty/spicy/tangy-sweet/oregano-y/yummy sauce alone is worth a freaking drive from Sacto AND a 45 minute wait if you ask me. That's saying something. Of course, I also recommend their house wine and a nice salad, and I've never tried the more ambitious stuff on the menu, but it just doesn't matter because the spaghetti is the food to eat there.
It's rare for me to leave Sacto, but I try to sleep in his bed 1 weekend out of every 20 weeks or so. Is it evil to make my significant other commute to see me all the time? He rationalizes that because he leaves his boat with me, it ain't so bad. But he drives a truck. I feel horrible making him pay for all that gas. I think I'll offer to fill him up at least once a month.
I'm also thinking I should start paying my sister for storage. All my big stuff is in her garage, and her sig oth is making waves. But it's true. She offered to do it for free, however, I feel I should at least give her a nominal sum. How much should I try to pay her? I bet she'd be VERY happy if I gave her even $50 a month. That's much cheaper than getting a storage unit for everything, plus I wouldn't have to move it until I indeed actually move again. Hmmm.
Saw "Crash" on Monday night. Felt horrible for getting lost on the way to Roseville Century (yes, it's easy to find, shut up), got all turned around somewhere in Central Roseville, ended up in Rocklin, jumped on the 65 to get BACK To 80, got off at Eureka and waddled into UA to ask "Where the hell is Century?" and if you must know, it's 2 streets up, right where PF had said "Hey, is that the marquis?" and I had ignored him, because what does he know about the burbs??? I officially hate Roseville for being so built up and ugly and looking the same all over. Walmart looks like UA looks like Kaiser. Ugh. Anyway. We finally got there, 12 minutes late for the show, totally missing the previews and probably 4 minutes into the movie itself. I could feel the cold shoulder from PF the whole movie through and apologized profusely. This is the most patient and understanding person in my life, because I think this is the second movie that we've gotten to a bit late, and all he said was "there were some connections that I regret we missed." Never a "You suck, you got lost, and we shoulda just gone to Tower or Folsom." Which is what I was thinking. Crash is very good, felt reminiscent of Grand Canyon to me, which I guess a few other folks have also said, and exposes/explores racism in many ways. Lots of interconnections between the characters, but obviously, they aren't aware of it. Acting is strong and solid, nothing iffy or annoying, not even Sandra Bullock is very annoying, which is a feat in itself. Therefore, I have to recommend it.
Monday, May 16, 2005
I think I watch too much TV.
I watch entirely too many crime dramas.
I'm starting to really like Geico commercials. I find that one sprint commercial with Wendy In The Bathing Suit hilarious. And I'm fascinated by almost everything on Animal Planet.
Today I practically forced PF to watch "Haunted in Connecticut" with me. The Entity looked entirely too much like The Master from Dr. Who. Although entirely black eyeballs can always cause me to get a goosebump or two. Still. It's a bit ridiculous. Too much TV.
I need to catch up on the newspapers, books, and internet a little more (less internet, more books). I could stand to open up my dreaded mail that apparently poured in today.
But things are looking up on my Entertainment End. The Ladybug is making me a yum surprise veggie dinner tomorrow evening (I belong to a group of gals here in town that do fun things, and one of them was to pull names out of a hat and make dinner for the next person.) I am going to see my friend Chie on Wednesday. Allykat's Graduation is coming up this weekend, so I intend to congragulate her heartily.
I missed a fun Bday for Robley on Saturday due to it being out of town for me and my having the start of a headache that actually didn't quit until dinner last night. While it put a damper on my weekend, it didn't kill me. That which does not kill you makes you more careful about caffeine in the future. Lemme tell ya.
Everything is looking up lately. Even the light showers we've been having, so long as they don't cause flooding.
Green plants, cooler May afternoons in Sactown, that's a good thing.
Saturday, May 14, 2005
Wow. All I can say lately is wow. And maybe "I KNEW it."
Not that I hate all xchins. Some of them are very nice people, sort of Ned Flanderish and sweet. But the ones in power? The ones who tend to tell the rest of us what to do and pass laws to support their personal observances? Drive me crazy.
And there you go. Bush's favorite xchin OBGYN David Hager allegedly raped his wife in the ass for 7 years, rape thereby implying "without consent" although xchins say it's your duty to comply with your husband's sexual wishes whenever he wants because in general, neocon xchins and the rest o'the fundamentalist movements are by and large mysogynistic. During those married years Hager managed to publish 6 books on women and sexuality, including one ironically named "Stress and the Woman's Body." Marriage implies consent according to an awful lot of Baptists, although I have my doubts on whether they'd say sodomy is a-okay with God. What, after the angels permitting whole cities to burn/lot's wife into salt/other fun stuff related to sexual miscreants in the OT...
Not that I am personally anti anything that happens in the privacy of home, backyard, or rented hotel room that is mutually consensual and well-lubricated. By all means, go to. But don't "take" what's not given, and being married doesn't give you the license to do that to another human being just because he or she is there, especially when she's not asked her opinion on these sort of things (or at least it's not taken into account during the decision making process.) I mean, it all comes down to choice, and I'm way pro choice.
Apparently, Ex-Mrs. Hager is pretty enraged that she put up with his antics for ass for so long, and I guess she feels duped. That's gotta be worse than excommunication during the middle ages, because nowadays no one will let you go off into the forest to just starve yourself to death for being stupid. You actually have to live with it. And here she is, allegedly a rape victim, living with wanting to kick herself in the head for putting up with it for so long. Man. But kudos to her for coming out and saying something about the way he humiliated her in their marriage and treated her like crap. The only thing that irritated me about her is that she came to her senses after he served on reproductive rights committees and advisories and got some important public policies crapped on. I don't want to know what other horrifyingly awful things he did to her, but I'm glad she's divorced now, what with the intensity of her 7 Year Itch.
I feel sorry for everyone who feels duped by their religious upbringing and alliances. That must really suck ass. Or at least rhyme with it.
anyway. All I can say is wow. And I knew it. Followed closely by It Figures.
~Amelie, disgusted as usual by the sweepingly ugly leanings of this nation's neocons.
Friday, May 13, 2005
I know my last post said I would not get all weepy and demoralized about anything anymore. But I think I lied. Because housing is a big sad issue in Sacramento right now. Of course, it's not bad for everyone, not for real opportunists, but for the ones who actually want to live here? It's awful. In any case, I caught up with Heckasac today, and Becky cited a heated discussion going on about the Gargantuan Towers proposed for downtown Sacramento. Very interesting stuff, lots of points of view. If you live in a town where there is a definite artistic bent, specified districts (in our case, "Parks"), and is still small enough to be chided as a "cow town" even in self jest, you get the idea of what people are worried about. That what they love will end.
Someday soon, PF and I will try to move back to Midtown, raise a little familia, keep our dog and cats, and walk down to the local coffeehouses to read the paper on Saturday mornings and wave to friends who stop to chat or honk at us from the cars loaded with laundrymatted clothes and groceries driving under the canopies of elm trees. This is like my personal Valhalla. You know. If I died in combat and were sent to heaven, I'd have 500 virginal PF's to mess around with under the trees of Sactovalhalla...
But it will be a LOT more expensive than if we had met in 1995 and purchased a house back then. Only 10-13 years ago, it was possible to buy a 3 BD/2 BA house, say at 21st and E streets, for 121K (which I will point out right now was considered a serious sacrifice back then, and the sellers were skipping away thinking they'd never get it quite so good ever again, little did they know). But it would have been doable, with a small down and an $800 mortgage. I could have been a baker forever, and PF could have tested waterways for perchlorate contamination and fished to his heart's content. But we did not meet in 1995, we met in 2002.
Which means I spent those imperative Early Buyer years finishing graduate school and finding career options. I did not focus on housing, because it wasn't pressing. I rented a flat for $700 and had all my pets in Southside Park, walked to the farmer's market, enjoyed summers and springs with a backyard in bloom and a grapefruit tree that just wouldn't quit smelling totally amazing. Life was Languidity.
And then my landlord jumped on some notion he had that he could make A Mint if he sold the place. 2 apartments below, my gorgeous happy flat, and it was sold 2 days later for $100K more than he paid for it, which he thought was Fabulous. Had he but held onto it for 3 more years, he'd have REALLY made A Mint.
But the jerks who bought it told me my rent was going up to $1000. And that I'd need to pay an extra $500 "pet" deposit. I was so mad, I moved out. Into a smaller East Sac 3 bedroom and got another roommate. Leading to my hellish housemate ordeals that are actually cataloged in this blog all over the place.
But I had the PF. And we love each other. And someday we will buy a house, because I have Career Options. Right??
Life in Sacramento is languid and leisurely. Or it at least used to be. The current average home price for first time buyers is $308K for 2 bd 1 bath no garage no yard houses with termites and ugly paint jobs; and people are buying like mad just to get into "good" neighborhoods. Little teensy 750 square foot houses are selling in less than a week. Sellers are stunned by their sudden stellar fortunes and are looking for something else to buy with their 300 thousand dollar windfalls (but they're the only ones who can actually afford a new house! And it's smaller than their last one that they'd paid off already!!!), buyers are sighing in relief thinking they are going to "sell" in 5 years for even MORE money than they spent, which is, I'm sorry, not really bloody likely, but whatever. Prove me wrong. I'll be in Carson or Yuba City (post Beale Closure) or hopefully hobby farming in the foothills raising llamas on my lottery winnings. I can't afford to live in my own damn hometown. Not really. Not now. Hopefully someday, but not while this frenzy is going on. And I feel sorry for people who are panicking and buying, thinking it's never going to end. Refresher course in reality: LA in the 1980s. Where people bought like mad and ended up owning nothing. Because a lot of them were doing it zero down 1 year ARMs...sound familiar? Guess what's going up??? Interest rates, sorry ARMers. I hope to god you do not get hit bad and can sell to someone slightly more desperate than yourselves. Guess what's happening to cost of living in general?? Going up too. Guess who's not getting promoted anymore?? State workers and pretty much everyone else. Who's going to live here?? Bay Area commuters with stay-at-home moms. What does that mean?? LESS COMMUNITY. Not more.
The Sacramento I truly love is full of bungalows and craftsman style homes with converted basements, offering shelter to artsy funky creative people on the grid for fewer clams than they could possibly pay in San Francisco. In return, they vitalize, work PT at local cookeries, make art (both on and off the street), dance and make music, ride bikes on the flat spaces, date and break up, start little piercing studios/tattoo parlors/bookstores/record stores/sandwich shops/etc./employee their friends and cohorts. That's Sacramento in a nutshell. And I know it's idealistic. And I know dozens and dozens of people who have left Sacto for years and years, and then come back.
They come back. They nearly ALWAYS come back here. I don't know why. I left for 5 years, intended to stay for 1, and have stayed 9. NINE YEARS here since I originally planned to move to Portland.
And why? Because it's languid. The pace is still slow, the people are interesting (well, my friends are), and the trees canopy the city on the hottest Mint Juleps and Sundresses days. BBQ's in the park are de rigueur. People feel GOOD here. Even the vast majority of our homeless mentally ill folk are nice enough to chat with if you are so inclined. We have (not so secret) secret tunnels that can be explored by Those In The Know. The River is waiting to be floated and kayaked down. The towns surrounding call you to explore them when you want to escape the grid. We have a Thriftown in at least 2 vicinities. Public gardens are relatively common, and easy to get involved with if you have no backyard. Farmer's Markets are FABULOUSLY full of yum. The whole town IS HISTORY. And people absolutely love their sneaker-wearing McKinley Park-Going kids, their stray kitties, and their pound dogs.
So what do I think about lofts, mercedes benzes, gimoungous towers, elitism, and 1st Classishness?
I think it's unecessary. And the "promise" of all these "goodies" comes with a high price as The Head pointed out: it's pricing my favorite kinds of people out of their rental units and purchase power. Where will they go?? Crescent City?? God knows they are needed there...
I think the powers that be have a very different idea about what constitutes "revitalization" than myself. I think upping the popo patrols so that women don't get raped in an alley behind a dumpster, cleaning up crap in the streets, giving poor people loans to tidy up their fuckled yards and remove termites, creating cultural events and opportunities (like Thursday Night Market), and making people feel wanted by making it likelier for small businesses to open and employ them is revitalization.
anyway. Back to my point about the towers. I'm glad they are going to increase housing options if built, but of course, not for the people that I admire and enjoy being around. The people who move into these things will be the Elite. As was pointed out by the cited. And that's not good for me, not good for my kind of community.
Revitalization means bringing back to life. Which I do not see happening. Unless you like the intensity of That Which Is Forever The Same.
Building skylines that are devoid of soul will require exorcism, not baptism.
~amelie, who can't afford to buy now anyway because she got layed off in March.
Wednesday, May 11, 2005
So far it's been a decent week, no more bad news medically or otherwise. Just the constant dread of "what next". Something's bound to happen, right? The Other Shoe Must Drop. Something. But I'm trying not to dwell on worrying too much. Because I'm trying this experimental Zen thing. PF feels very strongly that I surround myself with gloom or gloomy people and that my perseveration on the subject of "sad" is obviously not good for me. Nor is it good for anyone else.
This is not to say I've decided to eschew depth and analysis of my problems, but I promise not to portray them online (because I re-read myself to remember shit sometimes) and because really, it's sad stuff sometimes. It's a downer to me and obviously to anyone else who flutters by.
And while I know everyting is NOT always okay, it's not okay to point it out to myself all the time, because I'm definitely skilled at coping with my distress and comforting others. So while it sucks to be unemployed and unlikely to find work until my current condition passes, I'm actually happy about it and okay with it and perfectly healthy for the most part. I can survive off UI, tolerate a lot of my parents' little peccadilloes, laugh at a lot of things, and keep going. I mean, what else do you do? Duh. It's not okay to strand yourself in pathos. And that's not my MO anyway.
Today is a beautiful day. It's gorgeous, in fact. Due to all the rain, my seeds are popping up and we'll have spinach in 21 days. Neat, non? Fair Oaks is practically GLISTENING in the sunlight. If I were a poet, I'd be more descriptive, but I'll always know what it looks like to look west towards the sunset from the roof in the afternoon and feel the delta breezes and the clean air. I can enjoy that right now. There's nothing to be upset about.
I even saw 3 versions of House Of Wax this week. PF is fascinated by the old stuff, so after seeing Paris Hilton die (everyone in the audience cheers hysterically, even though she's the least painful actor to watch during the whole film, and I actually caught a few "making ofs" on MTV late at night sometimes, so I was dreading the whole experience a little...), and then we watched Vincent Price's House Of Wax (filmed in 3-D). And then we flipped the DVD over and watched an even older version, Mystery of the Wax Museum, that might actually have been even better. With Fay Wray, it was made the same year as King Kong. Kind of neato. An easy way to spend a few colder/rainy days. The other thing we did that was fun was go to The Wiener Works on Madison between College Oak and Hemlock before seeing the New Paris Hilton Movie That Was Not A Sex Tape. I got a 14 inch hotdog and ate the whole damn thing which could not have been very good for me. The Tiny Fries were also super delicious. The dogs are steamed in beer. It was ridiculously big and smothered in red onions and yellow mustard. So delicious. To think we almost just got crap dogs for 3 times as much at the Century Theater. And PF treated because he was feeling particularly Wienerific.
Saturday, May 07, 2005
My poor sister got her leg ulcer diagnosis. She's being tested now to make sure she's one of the incredibly rare non-diabetic folks with this disorder. It's awful and I can barely spell it and it's forever. She's going to have ulcers forever because it's not treatable.
My whole family is feeling dismal and depressed about it.
My poor sweet sister.
How angry would you be if you got giant pink welty things on your legs that eventually opened and leaked serous fluids and bloody goop, were always inflamed and painful, and were deep enough to expose fat tissue? What if they biopsied multiple sites that initially healed, and then opened and seeped? What if you haven't worn a skirt since September, and had to take showers with a giant rubberized sleeve running down your leg because you can't stand pressure from shower streams or heat from a bath on the open ulcer? What if it felt like your legs were on fire and burning ALL THE FUCKING TIME? What if you have undergone multiple preemptive procedures and medical examinations to fix this thing, and all the previous diagnostics gave you nothing to go on? I'll tell you how angry I'd be. I'd be practially suicidal and desperate. I'm really worried about my sister. She's in too much pain and under too much stress.
My poor pooh.
I just want to huddle and cry for awhile. I wouldn't wish this on my worst enemy, not to mention my sister who drives me crazy but whom I love dearly.
PF says I write and talk about negative things too much and they become true and worse because I perseverate on them. Yes, PF is all zen and junk. And I'm actually trying not to be so anti-self/pro-misery (and it's working, believe it or not) and just trying to deal with things because I know I can actually cope with stress and that all things are "change". Change can be good. Like my joblessness, my parental relationships, my fertility or what have you, it can all be good if I let it. But my sister? She's not especially negative and is mostly positive and confident. What's making her medical stuff so insane and horrifyingly awful?
Life, truly, is not fair.
I need good cheer up ideas. I sent her an e card, but that's not exactly going to cut it. She lives in Sacto too. I wonder if I can take her somewhere or do something fun with her? Or give her some goodies? What could I do to let her know I am feeling awful for her, yet supportive and hopeful?
Thursday, May 05, 2005
I applied for another job that I'm suited particularly specifically for, but I know in my heart of hearts that no one would hire me until around December due to certain conditions I am living with right now.
Meanwhile, I'm trying not to sleep too late, get exercise, eat well, enjoy my solitude, etc. etc.
I watched a documentary on cannibalism while eating homemade blueberry pancakes (not as good as Lyon's), and had no idea the word came from the bastardization of Carribe (the west indies tribe that C. Columbus was easily convinced were man eaters thanks to the pleasant Arawak peoples who acutely hated their neighbors.) I also found out that about 1/2 of the world's population is IMMUNE to prion disorders due to this particular funky protein's association with genetic predisposition and prehistoric neanderthalic eating habits (face it: your Dawn Granny ate other PEOPLE.) I figure that explains it and I'm covered: No Kuru or Creutzfeld-Jakobs for me, my being of near perfect Viking, German, Hungarian, Spanish/Portuguese-Mayan/Aztec stock. I still feel bad for cows, though. They would never eat each other. The Aztecs and Vikings? Oh yeah, they chowed down on human flesh. And I suspect my mountainous brethren up in the lake regions of Hungary got hungry once in awhile. And we all know the Germans are big on killing people and perhaps soylent greening them into extinction. Not that I'm proud of it, but at least I'm protected. You know. If I crash in the Andes and have to carve the marrow from someone with a devastating prion infestation. I'm just saying. My favorite part of the doc was the copralite found in an ancient pueblo kiva site being excavated. I knew about this particular copralite, due to my weird fascination with all things poo, but I didn't know how they'd tested it for confirmation of cannibalism. And that said, my curiousity was answered. They were looking for human myoglobulin particles that suggested human pooping and human consumption at the same time. And that apparently settled it for all the Pueblo descendants, who changed their tune from indignation at the "accusation of human flesh consumption" to "well, everyone else in the world did it, what makes our ancestors immune to the possibility? Sheesh." But no one has ever figured out why the Anasazi culture went kaput back in ye olde 1300 AD, and no, it wasn't due to cannibalism, although some folks think they salted up the silt in the desert during agricultural dependency and starved their way to death.
I still think we'd do the world a lot of good by butchering a few NeoCons. I know this makes people ridiculously nervous, but I wouldn't do it unless we were starving. I'd also require genetic testing to ensure that the people republicannibalizing were immune to Prions...
I have a feeling that the older I get, the less I trust the government and the more I want to hole up in a cave somewhere with a few donkeys, sheep, and a mad cow free miniature moo, and a couple of guns. I know. I'm ridiculous. Sorta.
I need to get a job soon.
If not, I will have to get back into contact Aaron and give him some money to produce my Republicannibal Tee Shirt enterprise.
Okay, I'm off to Linen's And Things to buy a bridal shower gift for some cousin of mine who's getting married. I always say "married" like Long Duck Dong and "true love" like the priest in The Princess Bride. Man, I hope she picked out a few inexpensive things seeing as how I'm unemployed and all.
~Amelie, Not yet Mawwied, not quite thwarted.
Monday, May 02, 2005
I planted pineapple, melons, pumpkins, lavender, lettuce, chard, spinach, artichokes, tomatoes and peppers today. I cleaned 2 bathrooms, one closet, one kitchen and under the kitchen sink. I did our laundry, cleaned some rugs with a stain cleaner, fed all the animals, and organized some stuff in the computer room. And then I took a shower during which I cleaned the tiles.
I got some sun, spent some quality time with my mom and the PF (separately), and cuddled all my pets. I watched Dr. Phil (ick) and Oprah (eh.) And tried to find a good version of Animal Cops, but gave up TV for the rest of the day.
Last night I put together some japenese lanterns, went to dinner and a movie with the PF (The Interpreter is really stunning and thoughtful, don't drink before seeing it because your head will spin with the information.) Sunday morning I tried to drag the PF out of bed, but I ended up going to breakfast with my dad who suggested Lyons (he IS 60), and we stopped to pick up 100% Real Maple Syrup on the way. I don't know about anyone else's parents, but my dad carries his jug-o'Maple around with him to breakfasts because he hates "crap syrup". I have to say, pancakes taste much better with real stuff. I also got the potato pancake combo, and I will admit fully, Lyon's knows Potato Pancakes. They were great. I was totally satisfied all day long and full of yum. Breakfast is one of my favorite meals, but I never knew it until I started eating it. I'm not a cereal person. I'm an eggs and cheese, hearty stuff kind of breakfast eater. I also like pancakes, but they have to be buttermilk and good. Lyon's was really one of the best breakfasts I've had in a long time. I miss The Fox and Goose, where I always get a BBC omelet or a Pesto Veggie Grill+ feta. I love their berry scones too. I need to call some people and go get brunch one of these days.
Anyway. I'm in some sort of weird productive nesting phase.
Sometimes I do these crazy cleaning things at night like a tweaker, but it's insomnia that causes it. This time it's all hormonal and also the fact that it's hard to live in a giant cluttered dusty house without lifting a finger. My bedroom looks wonderful and pleasant and dust-free. I just need to get the dressers up there so I can take my clothes out of laundry baskets...
But I need to take a break. So here I am. Blogging.