dreams wide awake

2009-11-10T20:37:00.000-08:00

Dreams Wide Awake

currently on hiatus

Havana Social Club

2009-04-10T01:52:00.000-07:00

I think the tag line pretty much says it all there. Great space on a Thursday night to chat/catch up with Yogini-girl. Very chill DJ spinning on Thursday nights from 6-9. He actually played 'Crimson & Clover' and with the first few strains we looked at each other and said at the same time: "I love this song!"

Love the layout, the colors and the beat-up wooden dance floor. Thursdays are slow and lazy -& just like Havana is supposed to be: things don't really start moving in there until around 11pm.

Spring has Sprung!

2009-04-05T20:29:00.000-07:00

isn't it amazing when the sun comes out in Seattle? when Spring really starts up? Everybody comes out of the woodwork, everyone is smiling at each other and saying hello...

...it's like a Disney musical!

went for such a lovely walk on Phinney Ridge this afternoon: people were working in their yards and everything is starting to bloom. The air was warm and soft with the smell of things finally blooming.

Bob Cesca's Awesome Blog!

2009-02-21T18:53:00.000-08:00

Catching up on my news feeds and blogs today.

If you have not checked out Bob Cesca (who, by the by, has a column in the Huffington Post), I would highly advise it. He put a little snark and painful humor in my news, which is much like the spoonful of sugar one needs these days to choke down anything that is going on with much of America these days.

In this one - Flummoxing the Wingnuttery - he posts an email exchange he had over a (you guessed it) piece he recently posted on Huff. Link to the original post here: 'Sean Hannity's Ridiculous War Against Socialism', if you you want a little back ground on her response.

And Keith Olberman. I know some people find him a little too sarcastic and caustically anti-Republican, but even if it's a bitter laugh - I need a little levity when listening to the news these days. Michelle Bachmann. I mean, seriously? I don't claim to know everything but I also don't (or try not to) yammer on and on about half truths and SHIT I DON'T KNOW ANYTHING ABOUT.

In closing, wander over to Kim Has Nothing Clever To Say and read her sobering post: 'Spoiled Little Brother Syndrome'.

Repost: 'Stimulus Package: If You Jump Halfway Across A Chasm You Fall Into the Abyss

2009-02-17T18:54:00.000-08:00

Arianna Huffington from Huffington Post: 'Stimulus Package: If You Jump Halway Across a Chasm You Fall Into the Abyss'

i know, i know.

i don't return with fanfare and excitement.

i return with a Huffington Post link and commentary. didn't see that coming, did'ja?

but, i really do find that HuffPost does (at least briefly) show me there are other thinking-type peeps out there who are able to write without seizing up with anger, confusion and irritation.

i think the key to survival right now (like, right at this second before i'm even halfway through my 'thank god, i made it through another day' drink) is that we are all simply waiting for it to get better. or worse.

i try not to be angry. just kind of tiptoe around the irritation that though i was responsible through this whole economic meltdown (didn't buy a house i couldn't afford, didn't buy a car i couldn't afford, didn't run up my credit cards, or buy a herd of alpacas): i'm still going to have to bail out the reckless. if i don't spend too much time thinking about it and only listen to my NPR in little doses i can hopefully avoid that tightness in my throat (you know the feeling? like you're just about to cry but trying desperately not to?) and just repeat my little mantra: 'you have a job, you have a car, you have a place to live, you get to eat'.

don't think i'm not grateful for, you know... not fucking living outside my means. thanks, Common Sense!

meanwhile, the price of food, fun and necessities continue to go up. where's my stimulus package?

oh, there it is: i'll be paying for it for the next 30 years. it's like Christmas, all over again.

Pretty Frakkin' Sweet

2009-01-21T13:43:00.000-08:00

that 'frak' is for you, Adam.

Mr President!

New Year's Revelations

2009-01-01T11:48:00.000-08:00

As cheesy as it sounds - I know almost everyone else also feels a sense of new beginnings and fresh starts when the New Year rolls in. Whether that lasts until your hangover wears off or until you fight with your significant other for the first time in the new year or you last until that dingbat cuts you off from the left lane: we all seem to relish the chance to 'start over'.

I'm not one for the ubiquitous 'resolutions' upon the new year - but it's a good chance to rededicate your life and thoughts and ambitions... to whatever is important in one's life right now.

T.S. Eliot said, "For last year's words belong to last year's language and next year's words await another voice. And to make an end is to make a beginning."

Cheers and Happy New Year 2009!

I got yer Christmas cheer right here.....

2008-12-21T11:02:00.001-08:00

so cease and desist with the Christmas carols - or Holiday ditties - whatever the hell you want to call them. Why must every holiday be crammed down our throats? Hello, ad executives? I'm looking at you.

but can I say I am really loving this snow? Right at this very moment, anyway. anyone can appreciate snow and ice and general mayhem from the safety of their own home in wool socks and a sweater sitting in front of the fireplace and watching the entire 2nd season of 'Lost' (yes, folks, i am that far behind on 'Lost'. don't tell me how good it gets later or how it totally gets even better later on). also there is a coffeeshop within walking distance, i have a stockpile of booze, firewood and tomato soup - so i've got that going for me too.

we'll see how i feel about snow when i have to go to work tomorrow.

favorite Seattle-ite line heard over and over and over...: "It's not me. I know how to drive in the snow. It's all those other drivers out there." Sure, Dude, you're the rockstar - they're just holding you back.

And.... it just started snowing again. I am so glad I am NOT going to the Seahawks game. My ass is cold just thinking about it.

Dear Dreams Wide Awake

2008-11-20T18:58:00.000-08:00

my dear little blog,
how i've missed you.
and... it's not that i'm ignorning you. i know we've talked every few days or so for nearly a year and now - it's been well over a week.

is the affection waning?
have i grown bored with you
have i started a new blog?
no, no dear blog - it's me, not you.

no, really! it is!

actually work has been very busy and my own personal writing has picked up quite a bit after a year of doldrums and angst. i'm enjoying my 'day job' - not to mention that extra day off because of said 'day job'.

so - let's take a break. stay friends but give each other some breathing room. don't forget about me! i'll be back!

TTYL
KIT
BFF

Election Day 2008 - "45 degrees & steady rain"

2008-11-04T05:40:00.000-08:00

ELECTION DAY!

I have no doubt that we will win.

Yes: I'm nervous - but it's more like the butterflies you get in your stomach when your plane starts to descend after a long flight and you know you will still have to wade through the landing.

the taxi-ing.

the deplaning.

and then baggage claim - in order to see the one you travelled all this way to see.

so - yeah, nervous.

but excited and nearly on fire with anticipation, anxiety and...maybe a healthy dab of fear.

one whole day to watch it roll in. i guess this means i will be eating lunch in the car while listening to NPR.

drinking Seattle rain

2008-11-03T20:03:00.000-08:00

Wow.
Daylight savings time came in with a vengeance.
Cold, rainy and inky black.
Isis & I are drinking wine and warming our tootsies in front of the fire after a long day.
Well - I'm drinking wine and I had a long day. Isis is just sitting in judgement. Letting me know with her eyes that I should probably have food with that booze. Instead of... those few spoonfuls of peanut butter. Usually my first grab when I get home to kind of take the edge off.

Are we there yet?

2008-10-28T12:55:00.000-07:00

folks, i just don't know how much longer i can take it.

less than a week of the madness. we are nearly done. i'm just so tired of being stressed out about this election and listening to McCain get more and more desperate.

the Twilight Saga... & other illnesses

2008-10-27T12:41:00.000-07:00

There is always a certain amount of shame (flushed though it may be), when one admits to guilty pleasures – whether that may be soap operas, crass reality TV shows, rocky road ice cream or tabloid magazines.

I have just completed the Twilight saga – it took me about three weeks. Four books, 600+ pages each. And it's not that it took me a month to read them – just a month to complete the series - because in between books there was the waiting for them to be borrowed or arrive in the mail from dear Amazon. No, no… the books themselves, when in hand, were consumed within a day. Sometimes, overnight – because damn it, I had to sleep sometime.

So, some might ask, what the hell is wrong with me? I have actually asked myself that question several times in the last month. I devoured these books much in the same way I raced through the Harry Potter series. And, as a rule, I don't care much for any sort of 'supernatural' thrillers.

In truth, I've spent quite a bit of time scoffing at sci-fi/fantasy readers in my life. Now, I will read 'classic' sci-fi like Ray Bradbury and George Orwell (does anyone remember William Sleator's Interstellar Pig?) & did, in fact, read The Golden Compass – but barely, as it was losing me there at the end and so did not continue with the rest of that series. Don't even get me started on the Lord of the Rings series - which I felt I needed to read at some point for my 'education'. I waded through 80 pages of that thing and ended up leaving it on an airplane. Oh… & there was that slip where I read all the Thomas Covenant Chronicles back when I was in junior high. But THAT’S IT, my friends. I retain my high horse.

One might say I’m somewhat of a snob *gasp!* when it comes to reading. I try desperately not to be and most times am able to at least keep it inside. But there is something about this series that had me from the get-go ("you had me at 'hello'" - sorry, couldn't resist).

& now it's over. I can start to recover from the fall.

ooooo.... speaking of which, just watched a Netflix recommendation last week of "The Fall". very vibrant, rich and colorful.

Workin' For a Livin'

2008-10-20T20:21:00.000-07:00

& how lovely it is!

Some of you might notice how I am hardly ever online anymore... my Google Talk is all cobwebby. I work at work now - and email at home *gasp!* So, everyone that's been giving me s--t for being MIA - 'nuff said.

it's actually quite nice - to be busy all day doing work that I enjoy and not wasting away in a certain unnamed healthcare facility (no margaritas there - no, none at all).

Now, if we could only get this election wrapped up so I don't have to yell at the radio every morning, roll my eyes and sneer McCain-style in disgust while shampooing my hair.

OPERATION: Chimney Sweep

2008-10-14T06:02:00.000-07:00

Commenced!

Earth to Cup... by David Narazaki

2008-10-09T08:06:00.000-07:00

SOLD OUT!

Snoozefest ' 08, The 2nd Debate

2008-10-08T15:29:00.000-07:00

John McCain wants to be my friend? "Will you be my friend?" what is that...Grover from Sesame Street?

if so, he's that squicky 'friend' who's always trying to put his arm around you. & you clearly don't even want him in your airspace.
he was all over the map last night. he's all about the buzzwords - realizing that most Americans will hear/understand what is said repeatedly and most loudly. with no basis in reality.
i know that the mud-slinging and finger-pointed has started in earnest, but McCain slathered on the dirt, painting Obama as the 'domestic terrorist' Palin (in her infinite wisdom) did. it was unseemly and frankly, more than a bit desperate. the contempt in his delivery and demeanor could not be mistaken. sour grapes, anyone? on the upside - no 'maverick' wordage was thrown away. maybe he thinks we finally got it. leave the cringe-worthy talking points to Palin, Senator.

the whole debate was rather lackluster - there weren't any debates by either candidate. this 'town hall' crap was just that - a load of crap.

priceless Arianna Huffington quote:

"At the end of the debate, Brokaw asked McCain to get out of the way of his Teleprompter, so he could sign off. Brokaw might as well have been speaking on behalf of the future: Senator McCain can you please get out of the way so we can get on with it?"

Erica Jong: Is John McCain Really Our Friend?

100th Post - Profound Stuff

2008-10-07T20:07:00.000-07:00

Mom...
...makes it better. Much like cocoa and schnapps - or rum & coke?

She seriously de-fuzzes my stressball. Like those little sweater-pill-ers they used to sell in the department stores. One phone call: de-linted.

How did we come to this? I almost don't even want to question or explore that - because it doesn't matter. It is what it is. We went through what we did in life to be here now.

I am who I am because of you & Dad.

(uh, only the good stuff) :)>

You can't ever say 'thank you' enough, can you?

xoxo

Bob Cesna - Sarah Palin: Normal Joe Six-pack American

2008-10-02T13:46:00.000-07:00

All right, yes - I am unnaturally attached to Bob Cesna & his very own Straight Talk Express. You must visit his Goddamn Awesome blog as well.

repost: Sarah Six-pack Needs To Put Country First by Stepping Down

Mike Judge, the creator of King of the Hill and Beavis & Butthead, once told a story on Letterman about how, one day, his Joe Six-pack next-door neighbor was inexplicably removing the back windshield from a 1978 Chevy Nova. So Judge walked out to the parking lot of his apartment building and asked the neighbor, "What are you doing?" And the neighbor gleefully answered, "Huh-huh-huh! Huh-huh! Now it's like a truck!"

In the freakishly hamfisted world of Sarah Palin, Mike Judge's neighbor is qualified to be vice president of the United States.

Yesterday, Palin said the following to talk radio wingnut Hugh Hewitt:

"Oh, I think they're just not used to someone coming in from the outside saying
you know what? It's time that a normal Joe Six-pack American is finally
represented in the position of vice presidency, and I think that that's kind of
taken some people off guard, and they're out of sorts, and they're ticked off
about it."
There's so much awfulness in this quote, it's difficult to know where to begin. Out of sorts? Ticked off? Oh you betcha.
For the last eight dark years we've had a president who continues to be framed as a Joe Six-pack type. And it's been a disaster. No-one, at this point, is disputing the toxicity of the Bush presidency.
Here's the difference, though, between President Bush's Joe Six-pack persona and Sarah Palin's. For better or worse, George Bush -- and I can't believe I'm writing this -- had attained a respectable level of schooling while also coming from a family deeply rooted in American politics. In other words, be it the fake Crawford "ranch" and his cowboy drag, George W. Bush is mostly pretending. He's "Joe Six-pack" insofar as he's running away from his silver-spooned, cheerleading, Skull & Bones background. That doesn't mean he's any less ignorant. He's still a disconnected, incompetent nothing. But at least he possesses something resembling the heft required of the office. And it's worth noting for the sake of context that he initially ran for president as the "guy you want to have a beer with" in 1999 and 2000 -- a time of relative peace and prosperity. Bored Americans figured, Whatever. Might as well.

Sarah Palin, on the other hand, is, by all indications, a bonafide

hooplehead -- so dangerously out of her depth and so delusional -- perhaps blinded by ambition -- that she is in total denial about the real-world ramifications of her ineptitude. Instead, she's excusing her embarrassing television interviews and farcical candidacy as an historical breakthrough for "normal Joe Six-pack Americans."

Of course this is great news for the 27 percent who think Bushie is still doing a heckuva job. And I guess it's good news for anyone who wants to be president but doesn't want to go through all of that hard work and fancy book-learnin' to get there. But if there's one thing the history of this decade has taught us, it's that for the foreseeable future we should vigorously ignore the 27-percent-Bushies at all hazards -- or at least we shouldn't be encouraging them, as the McCain-Palin ticket appears to be doing.

Normal Joe Six-pack Americans, she says.

We learned the other night that Sarah Palin reads every periodical in existence. "All of 'em," she said. So she must know that we're engaged in two wars, while a third war is heating up with nuclear Pakistan, and a fourth with a potentially nuclear Iran. We're drowning in one of the worst financial meltdowns since the Great Depression. We have an energy crisis. A climate crisis. A Medicare crisis. A healthcare crisis. Crumbling infrastructure. Increasingly frequent natural disasters. And what about that guy who apparently rears his head over Alaska all the time like that weird Sunshine baby on the Teletubbies -- President Bush calls him Pooty Poot. What about him?

Compound all of this with the fact that Senator McCain is 72-years-old and then ask anyone who will listen: Do we really want a "normal Joe Six-pack American" sitting in the Oval Office in January tasked with managing these problems?

No wonder everyone is ticked off. And Senator McCain, knowing all of this (as well as the average heights of Koreans apparently), acquiesced to the far-right by selecting Sarah Palin anyway, just prior to launching a general election campaign centered on the ridiculously incongruous theme of "Country First."

If John McCain was really interested in putting country first, he would ask Sarah Palin to step off.

Palin herself appears to be, as I said, too ambitious to voluntarily step off, so it really comes down to McCain. What'll it be, Senator? For the good of the country as well as its increasingly buffoonish reputation, you have to do this. Of course you won't, but it's worth a shot. Just putting country first here. By the way, I bet with this economic meltdown, Mitt's looking awfully good about now, eh?

In a greater sense, Sarah Palin, in her ungainly scramble to justify her total lack of quality, is inadvertently revealing a startling lack of patriotism. The vice presidency is chiefly about being ready and able to take over the office of the presidency. Subsequently, the presidency is a position of enormous historical and national importance, requiring the very best America has to offer -- especially now. Idealistically, it's a position of merit and a title of great honor. Not necessarily the grandiose, kingly role envisioned by founders like John Adams and Alexander Hamilton, but heretofore an office of significant prestige. So by suggesting that just any "normal Joe Six-pack American" can do it not only insults and diminishes the office, but it also insults and diminishes Sarah Palin.

Of course Sarah Palin probably doesn't realize that by implying that just any ignorant hoople can be vice president, she's not only suggesting that she herself is an ignorant hoople but, most importantly, that she can be easily replaced by any ignorant hoople plucked by the mullet out of any random monster truck rally. In other words, it's a frivolous position open to anyone who can read a teleprompter without choking on his or her own tongue.

I mean, is she seriously advocating for equal job opportunities for Joe Six-pack? It's about time, she seems to have said, that normal Joe Six-pack Americans were in control of our most important and most complicated jobs. Joe Six-pack presidents. Joe Six-pack astronauts. Joe Six-pack police detectives. Joe Six-pack surgeons.

Imagine being wheeled into surgery for a triple bypass and just before they push the anesthesia, you see Sarah Palin walk into the operating theater with a hatchet. A nurse offers her some sterile gloves and she blurts out, "Thanks, but no thanks! Oh I love doin' amputations!"
Scary. But it's about time, right?

The presidency, as we've learned the hard way, matters. An incompetent chief executive, no matter how he or she has been packaged, tends to breed disaster. There was a time when we could rest assured knowing that, even if the president wasn't all there, he was surrounded by competent people who could grab the wheel if he blacked out. But those who are supporting the Republican ticket based on superficial appeal need to ask themselves: since when has the word "competent" been used to describe the current batch of operatives surrounding John McCain and Sarah Palin? These are the same handlers who came up with the laughable "Alaska is right next to Russia" line. Put it another way,

the man who first coined that line was Steve Doocy.

In the real world -- a world in which America needs serious people making our most serious decisions -- Alaska's proximity to Russia has less to do with national security experience than a '78 Nova without its back windshield has to do with a truck. It's just not. Likewise, Joe Six-pack, while qualified for many decent jobs (governor of Alaska, too, I guess), is simply not qualified for our highest national office. Sorry, Joe! And sorry, Sarah. You're just not up for this, regardless of what you've tricked yourself into believing.

Isn't That Too Bad?

2008-10-01T08:10:00.000-07:00

My, my – how unfortunate...

I mean, everyone can get a bad haircut – but it looks like you cut it yourself with pinking shears.

*cough* karma? *cough*

Cheers, Dr E.C. May it never grow back and let your bitch flag fly high. Certainly, it can’t get much worse. You’re already so unhappy with life, you can just use that chop job as bitter fuel for the fire.

Whoosh!

Pet Names & Peevish Pets

2008-09-30T11:56:00.001-07:00

Our little Purrito!

(She is not amused)

repost: Top 5 Reasons to Vote Against Paulson's $700 Billion Bailout

2008-09-29T10:11:00.000-07:00

"There's news this Sunday afternoon of a congressional deal to bailout Wall Street fat cats with $700 billion of taxpayer cash (you can read the draft legislation here). Though the deal negotiated between congressional leaders and the White House is better than what Treasury Secretary Henry Paulson originally proposed early last week, it remains an insulting atrocity, having omitted even basic aid to homeowners, bankruptcy reforms and any modicum of future financial industry regulation. Now, the New York Times reports that the Democratic leadership may not have the votes to pass this bailout. So without further ado, here are the top 5 reasons (in no order) why every single member of Congress - Democrat and Republican - should vote this sucker down. Please feel free to copy and paste this post into an email to your congressperson. They are deciding right now - let them hear your voice."

repost: David Sirota, Huffington Poster - full article here.

Tribute: Paul Newman 1925 - 2008

2008-09-27T21:18:00.000-07:00

I know there will be a slew of tributes, but I must add my voice to the masses.

I remember watching 'Cool Hand Luke' with my father - the same way we used to watch Maverick and Have Gun Will Travel and James Bond movies (Sean Connery and Roger Moore)... soaking in Paul, as Luke, with that smirk/grin and the... absolute aura he exuded.

'The Young Philadelphians with his a sharp and jutting jaw, and flashing eyes to match - pride showing in every movement, every exchange.

& do I even need to mention him in 'The Sting'?

I could, of course, go on and on and on...

I will miss it. I will miss his presence and his forthrightness - his strength of character that is so much more than an actor. A man. I don't know him - no more than any of the rest of us know any actor, or rockstar, or... but they way we think of them as the bedrock of
Hollywood before Hollywood was Paris Hilton and George Clooney. No aspersions on George Clooney - I think he's closer to old school Hollywood than anyone I've seen since Grace Kelly and.... Paul Newman.

It's funny that I would feel so... attached. & as if it's such a personal loss to my own life. I feel such respect and honest sadness. Paul Newman and Joanne Woodward were absolute bastions of... class. We were only bystanders of their legacy.

I didn't know him. I can't even begin to pretend that I knew him. But... what I did KNOW of him was in his films, which I found was the way he lived his life as well - an actor of such cock-sureness and depth and pride. And THEN he became a man who knew everything in this world was so much more than him.

"I wanted, I think, to acknowledge Luck: the chance of it, the benevolence of it
in my life, and the brutality of it in the lives of others; made especially
savage for children because they may not be allowed the good fortune of a
lifetime to correct it."

- quote from Newman's book, I Will Sing Life, about his Hole in the Wall Gang camp.

If you feel a twinge in your heart, an appreciate or a loss - a pain you can't comfort - think about extending his legacy, his warmth and his honesty for the plight and lives of others who may not be as fortunate as we are in our lives. To donate to the Hole in the Wall Gang for seriously ill children, please click here.

I would imagine, he would want no other tribute.

Sounds like a Jon Stewart / Daily Show-ism

2008-09-26T14:05:00.000-07:00

Lifted from Huffington Post piece by SAM STEIN entitled, 'McCain Makes it Worse AS GOP Erupts Over Bailout':

"Bush is no diplomat," said a Democratic staffer, "but he's Cardinal freaking Richelieu compared to McCain. McCain couldn't negotiate an agreement on dinner among a family of four without making a big drama with himself at the heroic center of it. And then they'd all just leave to make themselves a sandwich."

That's just gold, Jerry. GOLD!

Sarah Palin: Bad to Worse

2008-09-26T13:22:00.001-07:00

I think I'm actually starting to feel a little sorry for her. This woman looks terrified & there is an air of desperation to her. She's definitely looking a little less sparkly. Too bad she can't ramp that interview back up with some snarky banter.

*Christopher Beam from SLATE: "And in her latest face-to-face, with Katie Couric of CBS, she looked like a high-schooler trying to B.S. her way through a book report."

Public Service Announcement, re: Omnipotent Smoting of Kittens

2008-09-26T07:39:00.000-07:00

not exactly on the same level of, "everytime a bell rings, an angel gets it's wings" - but these are different times, Clarence!

think about it - do you want to be responsible for all those kittens? Those poor, defenseless kittens...

- grabbed this from the web, several copies of it on there. anyone knows the original poster/creator, let me know so i can give credit.

Economic Bail Out / McCain Cop Out

2008-09-25T13:52:00.000-07:00

Yeah... so...

This is where I grouse about the 'Economic Bail Out' fiasco (Sure! Let’s give Bush more money and more power to drive our country even further into the ground - "It's not quite dead yet, hit it again with the shovel!") & question why the hell John McCain feels he needs to halt his campaign and, by default, postpone the upcoming presidential debate.

Come on: John McCain wants to put off debating Barack Obama because he feels the he doesn’t want to be spending time on petty things like ‘campaigning’ when our nation is in a financial crisis? What does he think he’s going to be able to do there in Washington – wave a magic wand and pull the answer out of his ass? I am confident that this Administration can fuck this up all on it’s own. They don’t need a ‘maverick’, to look grim and thoughtful next to him. Why does he feel his presence is vital to the negotiations?! He’s not going to be in the meetings – basically it’s just a lot of photo op hand-wringing. Sounds like excuses to me.

Buck up, John McCain! If George W Bush can do a presidential debate – so can you! YOU CAN DO IT!

*I had written another half page of rants and tangents here – but for the sake of everyone, it has been deleted. I think it was just a little primal therapy.

& on to ‘our economy is in danger’:

I know I don’t know everything. Not even close. But I’m not stupid. & it really disgusts and enrages me that though this is not new information and the economy has been sliding into a recession for the last year or so – we are again bailing out companies who have speculated on growth, preyed on doe-eyed would-be homeowners, and mismanaged their money (and their companies) for years.

What. The. Hell.

So, instead of the rant that I previously deleted I am simply reposting my IM discussion with W this morning. This pretty much says it all:

W: finally some commentator on NPR said what I've been saying about the financial crisis, and every other bailout: "why should the prudent bail out the reckless?" I mean we could have bought a house a couple years ago with no money down too. that's easy. It’s just so stupid that we're getting punished for other people’s mistakes.
K: yeah, I heard that on the radio this morning too. i'm getting pretty fucking sick and tired of it - everybody is a victim.
W: yeah I know - America is full of children. How embarrassing.
K: guess we should have declared bankruptcy a few years ago, jumped out on all our debts and bought a house with no money down and then whined about how i got screwed because “I didn’t think I’d actually have to pay it back!” and “What fine print?! I was mislead!”
W: heh heh, yeah… and what's sad about that is that now WE, for acting responsibly, are made to feel like suckers. It's like we have incentive to be irresponsible. Fucking outrageous.

That’s right people – FUCKING OUTRAGEOUS.

& yes, there is a repost – Bob Cesna: McCain’s Economic Plan: Blurt Out Random Crap

and watch Campbell Brown rip the Bush Administration a new asshole:

I-5: Evil Incarnate

2008-09-24T16:06:00.000-07:00

Seriously.

Route 666.

El Diablo.

I think that pretty much covers it.

26 Candles for LW

2008-09-20T16:16:00.000-07:00

And a good time was had by all!

...except the birthday girl, there near the end of the night.

but we won't go into that.

even though we want to.

trust me, you wouldn't want anyone to tell it about you either.

let's just say: 'we've all been there' & leave it at that.

welcome to Seattle, baby girl! it takes some serious balls (or boobs, in this case) to get kicked out of the Lava Lounge.

Trojan Moose

2008-09-16T09:40:00.000-07:00

Quote from Arianna Huffington’s 'The Palin Doctrine: Why the Neocons Are So Excited'

“As predicted, the fact that she didn’t know anything wasn’t a bug, it was a feature. She’s perfect for the neocons: likeable on the outside, a blank slate on the inside. To borrow from an old cliché, if Sarah Palin didn’t exist, the neocons would have had to invent her.”

Trojan Moose, indeed.

With lipstick.

Has that joke been done to death yet?

Aim Away From Face - Tacoma Film Festival

2008-09-15T11:28:00.001-07:00

Aim Away From Face (VonSwanson Productions) has snagged the sweet spot at the Tacoma Film Festival on Saturday, October 4th @ 8:45pm. I dare you to watch the trailer/teaser and then try not to show up for the rest of it.

This is the type of town I grew up in, folks - not a lot has changed. We take our fireworks and our biting sarcasm very, very seriously.

Click here to laugh your ass off.

The Truth is Out There... Let's Just Hope America Can Listen, Learn and Read for Themselves

2008-09-12T11:34:00.000-07:00

I feel better. I've really immersed myself in commentary and reports in the last week or so and am feeling less like I'm out there twisting in the wind by myself with all that indignation and no place to go.

We're in the same boat - 'full of rage' and puzzled and absolutely disgusted by the smears, half-truths and audacious lies that seem to have become the bread and butter of the election season. I hate to see it go there. I really, really did believe John McCain to be a man of honor and forthrightness (I mean, he's practically an American flag, folks!) and have been consistently disappointed by larger and larger degrees.

Must. Stop. Blogging. About. Election.

um... but please read Paul Reiser's latest blog for a little levity.

Lushy @ Skylark Cafe - Friday

2008-09-11T13:55:00.000-07:00

A little levity to break up all this politico-angst!

Arianna Huffington: September 11th 2008

2008-09-11T10:53:00.000-07:00

i realize of late that my reposting has become shameless, but it floats up there to the top when i'm ashamed and mortified and disgusted as to what's going on with the whole Presidential campaign.

but this is important stuff.

I go from being unable to listen to my beloved NPR when listening to the days recaps of slander and snarkiness to being strangely transfixed watching the back and forth of CNN pundits - to just wanting to curl up in a ball and stare at the dark behind my eyelids. Sometimes it just feels like a little too much to process.

thank god for people like Arianna Huffington and Mr Bob Cesna

that's the 'Straight Talk', my friends.

gasoline vs my checkbook

2008-09-09T15:31:00.000-07:00

Something is seriously wrong when I am excited by the prospect of seeing gas for $3.83 and spend $40 to get just over 10 gallons of gas. That doesn’t even fill the tank of my pick up.

I guess I should be grateful that it was down 10¢ but that’s all just a clever ruse!

Prices keep going up and then down to ostensibly make us 'feel better' when it dips down a few pennies and then groan when it goes back up. It’s all just smoke and mirrors!

I feel so used. 'please sir, may i have some more?'

cartoon by Gary Varvell (www.garyvarvell.com)

Asleep for this One...

2008-09-05T07:54:00.000-07:00

I had a dream last night that the new 2009 Moleskines had come out and they were in a rainbow of colors and sizes. I’ve always wanted an enormous portfolio size Moleskine sketch book (I’m talking LP record size!) & this was my chance.

I elbowed my way in there and snagged a few and flounced victoriously off to the register.

Imagine my surprise when I awoke.

Moleskine-less.

*sigh*

Do I need more going on in my life? Buying journals is not exactly Mr Toad's Wild Ride...

linked to Moleskinerie

Repost from Bending Breath: Palin vs The Truth

2008-09-04T10:20:00.000-07:00

I had to repost this.

Well written, clear-eyed, insightful and cringe-inducing (which the RNC does so well anyway).

In fact, read the rest of her posts on this whole Palin kerfuffle. When do the lies stop? Doesn't the proverbial snowball eventually grow so large that you just want to say 'stop the madness'?

When the truth and admission to the facts is given in a tearful press conference: her career is soooo over.

I really do try to take things in stride & not jump around with the itchy-scratchy heebie-jeebies about the whole political machine. But it wears on one listening to this crap while they stand behind 'the flag, truth, justice and the American way'. Through my eyes? it's more like 'backbite, lie, cover-up, crow untruths and mislead the American public'.

Angry & then sad & then horribly disappointed.

The "Angry Left"

2008-09-03T07:08:00.000-07:00

& we should be.

We should all be angry.

Did he feel that was an insult? An untruth?

Thank god we’re almost done looking at that smirky ugly mug. He just seems to epitomize all I disrespect (and am disappointed in) with this country. We have a mascot for discontent!

Watching the RNC last night for a little while (all I could stand) which wasn’t a discussion about the future of the US and what we’re going to do to improve it, but simply a series of “look at us” and “give yourselves a hand” speeches.

I will stop here.

Jack-O's Big 5-0

2008-08-29T09:43:00.000-07:00

does that officially make him now a (allegedly!) dirty old man?

first Madonna, and now Michael - our childhood popstars are aging. and still dressing badly, after all these years.

Glorious!

2008-08-21T07:52:00.000-07:00

I am of course speaking of the piping hot coffee I spilled all down my pant leg this morning on the way to work.

And although you’d think I’d come away with a bitter taste in my mouth – the remainder, when reheated, is really rather nice.

Funny thing about having an old pick up truck: no cup holders.

So I get fairly creative about how to transport myself & my coffee to and from work. Said ‘old pick up truck’ is a little Ford Ranger and has both a stick shift & manual steering – so one-handed driving is really not an option. Not what you might say ‘ideal’ for city driving. With hot coffee. And no cup holder.

What has previously worked for me in the past to place my hot cup of coffee on the seat beside me, cuddled up next to the passenger side metal seatbelt that sticks up from behind the seat – you know what I’m talking about? Kind of curves toward the passenger side? Pretty sturdy. Set my purse in the passenger seat next to the cup and in a final attempt at corralling it, I place a shoe (one of many in my cab), high-heeled, lengthwise across the three. Like crossing a T. Worked like a charm, though still had to do a little maintenance.

You know that protective arm that comes up when riding in a mom's car? When coming to stop sign or making a sharp, quick turn? Like one of those rollercoaster iron bars that snaps you back into an uncomfortable position and usually hits you in an awkward place. That’s me with my cup of coffee. I blindly grope for the cup to steady it when going over anticipated bumps and turns and quick-ish stops. I ended up in an unfamiliar lane this morning and hit a monster patch of metal road covers – jarring my coffee over that Anne Klein wedge, passenger seatbelt clicky-thing, and my purse.

Of course what doesn’t run down my leg and into the seat of my pants diverts down the back of the seat of my bench seat truck – dripping onto whatever I may have thrown back there, filed under ‘out of sight, out of mind.’

Pants have been successfully washed out as I locked myself in the bathroom for 10 minutes, shamelessly standing in my underwear while I rinsed and blotted my pants dry. Or, as dry as possible. Which… really isn’t all that dry. I feel like I fell in a mud puddle on the way to school and now have to sit around and be damp and uncomfortable until well after mid morning recess. Where I will inevitably fall into another puddle – or pushed! Those kids can get really rough…

Anyway.

Next car: cup holders.

Channeling Nancy Botwin

2008-08-19T12:30:00.000-07:00

Does JACK FM Love Me or What?

2008-08-07T08:28:00.000-07:00

‘Glory Days’ into ‘Standing Outside of A Broken Telephone Booth with Money in My Hand’ (when’s the last time you heard that one?) this morning on the way to work and then a rocking cherry on the top with a blistering ‘Layla’.

Ooo-hoo-ooo.

I have discovered that it takes me exactly three songs to get to work. How nice is that? And all city driving – I hate merging onto a freeway to inch along to merge off onto an exit half a mile down.

AND –

As we speak, 'Heart of Rock & Roll' – yes I’m listening to music at work (quelle horror!)… favorite memory of this song and hearing it for the first time: watching The A-Team with my brother one summer vacation. We never missed The A-Team and would compete to see who could be the loudest and most spot-on with the intro:

“In 1972, a crack commando unit was sent to prison by a military court for a crime they didn't commit. These men promptly escaped from a maximum security stockade to the Los Angeles underground. Today, still wanted by the government, they survive as soldiers of fortune. If you have a problem, if no one else can help, and if you can find them, maybe you can hire... The A-Team.”

And then the musical crescendo!

Uh, anyway.

The episode was of the same name and started with this song as they were… wait for it… going into a rock & roll show! Yeah, crazy. I think it had Isaac Hayes (& Rick James?) in it too – they were protecting him for… some reason or another. I will of course be googling for this episode.

Man.

So this has really been a ‘Music Monday’ all week for those of you following along, hasn’t it? I think it’s the sunshine. I usually listen to NPR in the mornings on the way to work but have realized that I feel so much better by the time I get to work if I listen to music instead of he said/he said’s on McCain vs Obama or an Olympics “human interest” story that is all the rage right before the grand dame of it all is starting up…

I mean, “Yay, America!’ and all, but I’m seriously burned out on the red, white and hoopla.

Time Is On My Side (Yes It Is)

2008-08-07T07:38:00.000-07:00

Even when I feel like I’m going to be running late, I end up being on time.

Which, in KateSpeak, means a few minutes early.

Is this a sickness? What is wrong with me that I haven't learned to play hooky or if this is indeed a sickness... I wouldn't have to play hooky!

Brilliant. Brilliant!

Ponderous, Man. Really... Ponderous

2008-08-05T08:12:00.000-07:00

Oh wait – wrong song. But you should listen to it since it's here.

Anyway.

Listening to “Its Friday I’m in Love” by The Cure this morning – heard the line:

Saturday wait
And Sunday always comes too late

Made me think about a correlation to another song (by another artist), released a year later in 1993:

Saturday wait
Sunday’d be too late

It’s almost an echo and I'm thinking 'wait. that's not right!' I always hear songs in other songs. It's a curse. And it's by… anyone? Anyone?

Sting’s Ten Summoner’s Tales, “Seven Days”

Is that a nod/homage to The Cure? Or was that completely unintentional? Blatantly stolen? I was wondering if anyone has ever thought of that parallel before. I mean, it's a 'days of the week' song and rises in the same way. Clearly I will be doing some important research on this subject today at work. Very important.

And then again: perhaps it’s perfectly obvious to everyone who has ever heard the songs and has even a passing knowledge of either artist. So obvious in fact that it’s not even worth it to mention?

Um… I’m going to take the credit on this one unless someone wants to prove me wrong.

Music saves my Monday

2008-08-04T09:12:00.000-07:00

Just as I pulled into the security gate in the garage at work this morning, Frankie goes Hollywood came on the radio: Relax.

I drove myself all the way up to the roof of the garage and sat in the morning sunshine (this will come back to bite me in the ass after work as it is slated to be over 85 degrees here and my truck has neither an asbestos coating nor air conditioning and I will be a soggy mess well before I get back OUT of the garage, as it is a dizzying four floors back down, complete with tight corners, ala SeaTac airport and their Michelin Man tire-like ramp down out of the parking garage – god, I digress... and type a mean run-on sentence) looking at Seattle, listening to that mantra and acoustical assault:

Relax don’t do it
When you wanna get to it

Yes, I know the lyrics are questionable, but the music and the chorus kind of lulled me into accepting going to work today.

A few moments to breathe.

You would have googled it anway...

Train Wreck

2008-07-31T15:28:00.000-07:00

remember when he was... like the 'shit'?

yikes.

Thai Green Curry w/ Calamari

2008-07-30T12:34:00.000-07:00

Step 1: Order green curry with... whatever in it... the night before. Delivery preferred.

Step 2: Eat everything but the saucy, spicy green curry.

Step 3: Store reserve amount in to-go box in fridge.

Step 4: Wake up 2 minutes early to fill remaining amount of container with Trader Joe's frozen calamari (non-breaded). Shake well.

Step 5: Remember to bring to work. This will NOT work if you leave it on the kitchen table at home.

Step 6: Shake again & nuke for 3 minutes.

could really use a beer with this.

morning breath

2008-07-29T08:33:00.000-07:00

Sometimes my life tastes like Christmas cookies and hot chocolate – other times it resembles broccoli just a mite past its prime.

Life has not been particularly interesting of late.

Only minor squabbles over dishes undone and perceived dirty looks. Warm days and afternoons lead to stuffy nights upstairs in the attic/sleeping loft, quelled by open windows and a fan – makes me feel like I’m sleeping outside when the wind blows. It rained a little bit on Sunday morning; I woke just enough to feel the sprinkles on my head beneath the windowsill.

Still stifled by the cat who insists upon being my personal hot water bottle, forming herself around me while I try to sleep in this heat. Swelling from a compact little fur ball to 3 feet of stripes in the space of a few hours. Doesn’t realize that if she would just sleep somewhere else she would also be a lot cooler. Clearly not a rocket-science-type cat. Probably goes in more for... creative writing and Divination.

'Quiet Desperation' ? Or Depression?

2008-07-24T09:20:00.000-07:00

There are so many other things I could be doing right now.

Big, meaningful, & lovely things.

There have been several mornings of late in which I am struck with the panic of another day spent going through the meaningless motions of the workday. I develop a sort of internal series of electrical pulses that seem to spark somewhere between my brain and limbs, the closer I get to work – urging me to hit the highway and drive into the sunrise.
Meanwhile, duty and responsibility keeps the nose of my truck pointed towards work and I grimly drive on.

Hell, sometimes even when I’ve already parked and am in the actual building I feel the need to bolt. This morning I had the thought: “I wish this hallway would just go on forever. I’d rather walk 5 miles than park my ass at the desk another day.”

The only papers I should be shuffling around my desk should be my own.

Good god – did I swallow the bitter pill this morning? Or am I one?

Danger: Breeding Alert!

2008-07-22T18:42:00.000-07:00

Everyone is breeding.

Did i miss the memo?

Little Bunny Fu Fu must have been doing more than bopping those field mice on the head.

By God in heaven!

Bob Cesca: NOT CNN

2008-07-19T19:04:00.000-07:00

I am in love with The Huffington Post.

& this is why.

I am currently being subjected to continuous CNN at work (rah for cable *meh*)and have quickly remembered/discovered why it is that I rarely watch newsTV. They play the same hour of news over and over - all day & with very little changes. Subtitled: The Situation Room, more like The Dead Zone.

& on top of that having to listen to the latest, daily occurences of 'he said, he said' with McCain vs Obama. How is it that I forget every single time how bad campaigning can get? Enough to drive me to drink! Well, perhaps that's just an extra excuse...

i love my job

2008-07-18T09:33:00.000-07:00

Yeah.
Right.

The Fall Guy. Yeah, you heard right.

2008-07-16T18:49:00.000-07:00

Oh my God! I have those sunglasses!

This is like Dukes of Hazard, Greatest American Hero and the A-Team in one. Dripping with cheese. It's so bad it's good. And yes, that's Farrah... and James Coburn. But the theme song kind of hurts my ears.

Looks like I found something to do while drinking with the cat this summer.

Colt Seaver.

*snork*

The New Yorker: July 21, 2008

2008-07-14T19:08:00.000-07:00

Are you kidding me?

What was the reasoning for this?

If a picture speaks a thousand words, what the hell were they thinking?!? Putting this kind of (supposedly) satirical cartoon on the front of The New Yorker (a weekly magazine), with circulation of over a million.

I don’t want to sound all ‘conspiracy theorist’, but I can’t believe that someone at The New Yorker didn’t raise their hand before this issue was put to print and say, ‘maybe this could be misconstrued’ (I’m looking at you, Mr David Remnick).

The consequences of this picture being printed and splashed across newsstands for the next week could spell certain disaster for Senator Barack Obama. We are in the middle of a hotly contested Presidential campaign, in the midst of a ‘war on terrorism’, and this illustration is unveiled.

Perhaps they didn’t mean it, but this cartoon is as damaging as a smear campaign. The New Yorker has stated that it is simply a satirical commentary on all the unfound rumors about Senator Barack Obama and his wife, but unfortunately, that is not made clear until after reading the articles – inside the magazine. What about the people who don’t read The New Yorker? What about all the people that will see the depiction of Barack Obama dressed as a Muslim, doing a ‘fist bump’ with his wife (who is carrying a machine gun), while an American flag burns merrily in the Oval Office fireplace (over which ‘Uncle’ Osama bin Laden is pictured). What do you think their first reaction is most likely going to be? I can guarantee you it will not be a hearty chuckle and an “Oh, that Barry Blitt! He sure is a witty one! What a card!”

We are, after all, speaking to the minds of a nation who elected George W Bush into office – twice.

For every one person who reads the articles covering this issue, there will be perhaps ten who will only see the cover and draw their own conclusions. And it will not be with a chuckle, it will be with a gasp and they will forever link Senator Obama with the image of terrorism.

One can be fairly certain that Senator Obama can take a joke, but this depiction… goes much further than that. There is nothing wrong with controversy and taking a look at the issues, but that is not what this is.

Clearly, I am shocked. I rarely comment on anything political as I think everyone is entitled to their own beliefs and I am just as entitled not to have to hear them rhapsodize about it either. But how is this clever? How is this ‘thought-provoking’ and ‘edgy’? How did they really think this was going to be interpreted?

I don’t even know where to end this – I’m just extremely taken aback; surprised that this caliber of periodical would think that this was a classy/ic move. It's distasteful in the manner of tabloid 'journalism'.

This is not journalism or satirical illustration but the cover of a MAD magazine.

sunday night sighs...

2008-07-13T21:14:00.000-07:00

back to work tomorrow.

again.

rah.

*blink*

Bradbury Press at the Tractor Tavern, July 11th

2008-07-10T09:20:00.000-07:00

That’s right.
You know you wanna.

Watch the boys tear it up with Ordinary State and Star Anna at the Tractor Tavern tomorrow (Friday).

Get your boogie-oogie-oogie on and join me & Yogini for a margarita.

See you there!

The Continuing Saga: Fed Ex & My New Matt & Nat Bag

2008-07-09T14:27:00.000-07:00

Curse the signature required line! What about people who work for a living???

K: Aw crap - I think my bag is going to come today. and nobody home to sign for it. damn it! argh!
W: oh no! were you able to sign for my big RADAR contraption? your bag might just be left on the porch OR if it's UPS you'll be home WAY before they come. My problem is that mine come FedEx Ground and they arrive during the day .UPS never delivers to our house until 6 or 7
K: mine is Fed Ex too :(
W: awww...
K: I did sign for your RADAR though - left it on the door handle.
W: Stupid Isis. What is she good for?
K: Nothing
W: We should leave her with an ink pad
K: Oh, right, as soon as the door opened she’d bolt – leaving our home open for vandals
W: haha - true
K: Kitty cackling as she ran with her inky paws: “fooled you!”
W: Easy to find her then - blue paw prints leading away from the Blue House; ala Kate in the story of the "One To Many Vodka Soda's and the Bowl of Pistachio's Heist"
K: oh HAHA… sounds like an ‘Alice in Wonderland’ scenario. Sheesh.
W: :)
K: I will never live that down.

Hey, at least we can have a little levity about our pain and disappointment.

Tears of Joy!

2008-07-07T13:29:00.000-07:00

they are able to save all my documents!

the clouds have broken open; I heart Advanced Laptop.

17 viruses (what the hell?) and they are going to have to wipe out my operating system... but all my documents are going to be pulled and then scanned before they do it.

sun is shining!

uniball Signo RT Gel 0.38

2008-07-02T08:48:00.000-07:00

that's right, folks - 0.38

Hope springs eternal!

After yesterdays' fiasco, tears and all, W took me to Office Depot on the way home from Advanced Laptop and we scoured the pen aisle. So, no 0.48's... but what's this? 0.38? sign me up!

Uniball Signo RT 0.38 - gloriously scratchy and magically delicious.

'and she looked upon it and she was pleased. mightily pleased.'

isn't that in the Bible?

They Shoot Laptops, Don't They?

2008-07-01T15:04:00.000-07:00

There’s an episode of Sex and the City entitled My Motherboard, My Self, in which Carrie Bradshaw's laptop crashes, effectively swallowing and crushing like a bug everything that she has ever written. She is heartbreakingly distraught and stares at the screen with pleading, disbelieving eyes.

I am not that cute.

After the sailor-approved curses and throwing of shoes (not Manolos) and using every ounce of strength not to break my laptop across my knee, I got down to the painful task of trying to download patches and run scans that croaked ‘I don’t wanna’ in computer-speak (ie, error messages and ‘safe-mode’ unhelpfulness). All that was missing was a deaths head and diabolical laughter. Three hours of this shit.

And then I discovered that there was absolutely nothing I could do to fix it.

I finally crawled into bed, exhausted, and curled into a sad, sorry ball of ‘poor me’- *sniff!*

I always had good intentions to back up my computer and W had even reminded me a few times. I think it was one of those things where it didn’t really seem that it would happen to me. I’d had a very “I’m rubber and you’re glue" mentality – clearly exempt to the computer woes of others. I mean, I had virus protection and ‘stuff’.

Is it too cliché to say that it’s like closing the barn door after the horse has already escaped? I’d never had a problem or a virus before, why worry? For this precise reason, moron. Hello, McFly! What kind of karmic mosquito did I squash to have this happen to me?

I have saved a small amount of things online (Google Docs rock), but only a small amount. Pictures? No. Oh, and that story I’ve been working on for the last year? The one that hasn’t turned into a dead-end yet? Yeah… I am an idiot.

So, back up your files.

NOW.

& please cross your fingers that my little lappy will come back restored from the very nice man at Advanced Laptop who was sympathetic and averted his eyes from my obvious ‘cried all night’ washed out face and eyelids that looked like pink, puffy fat lips.

A big old frizzled ball of sad sack… who says I’m not sexy? You want me.

High Soundz - NEW Seattle Music Publication

2008-06-28T10:56:00.000-07:00

Inaugural Issue!

And two little pieces of my own made it into print:

Local Radar – The Shwillers (formerly 'Rain City Shwillers')
&
CD Review – Bradbury Press ‘Live at the Crocodile’

Go little fledgling! Grow and be mighty!

repost: 'Work Conversation' from A, for Awesome

2008-06-24T08:56:00.001-07:00

another shameless repost - I just found this so laugh out loud funny that I had to link it.

'Work Conversation' @ A, for Awesome blog

Rhodia Webnotebook

2008-06-23T12:48:00.000-07:00

So: quite by accident I found this lovely little site & clearly I don’t need to tell you that I am obsessed with all things paper and pen. I have heard mention of Rhodia several times in the past year and it’s time to do some serious investigating. It appears that they have just as much of a cult following as Moleskine, so that intrigues me. I won’t go into why it feels so important to have just the right pen & just the right journal – as I have previously touted my mania for them in earlier posts.

And look at this blog: ‘The search for the Perfect Little Black Notebook’. A blog dedicated to it in fact. That’s love, my friends. He actually quotes himself as ‘an obsessive nut who has an unhealthy addiction to stationary products’. Hey, no judgment here, sir.

It looks much like the Moleskine I use and have been loyal to for several years, but perhaps it's time to give another a chance. I do prefer the black, semi-hardbound edition to the flashing orange (which is what turned me off upon discovery of Rhodia in the past) so perhaps the new Webnotebook would be a nice alternative.

See? Lurking has it’s own rewards – little finds like this. Perhaps if I click around enough I will find a replacement pen for my scratchy little pen that has since died out and wilted away.

Whoever said obsession was a lonely chase? This is like greyhounds after a mechanical rabbit.

'Look for a while at the China Cat Sunflower...'

2008-06-22T09:39:00.001-07:00

I had forgotten how much listening to music - particularly my 'old' loves - releases the tension in me. it brings back my smile when i hear the jumps, segues and chord changes that used to be like a second skin to me and the soundtrack of my life.

Last night, playing darts with the boys, 'Deal' came on the jukebox, and I realized that I've never heard the Dead at that bar. Could be our close proximity to The Center of the Universe, as it was a celebration of freakdom last night - Solstice seeping into all of us and the jukebox was lovingly stoked with jams.

At any rate, I woke up this morning and put in Europe '72, and folks - I was back in it. I used to be there. Not in Europe in 1972... but my life revolved around the next show and the question of 'when was I going to get to dance?' Screw the vodka & smoke breaks & 'hey, how you doing?' s - when do I get to feel the energy of the band feeding off the crowd, feeding off the band, feeding off the crowd, feeding off the... until it was such a high tension powerline of joy and fire that I simply couldn't stop grinning. And neither could anyone else.

God forgive me... I often wear high heels now to shows. I just don't dance like that anymore.

I forget that I love music, have always loved music and lived and breathed it for so long... it's like I've shed all these pieces of myself til I've become a big ol' stressball, forgetting to take my vitamins in the form of joy. joy for no reason. not just cause the sun is out, or i sold an article or my new Netflix came. Yes, it is just as important for the small joys - but when did my center shift so?

There was a time when that weekend in... Georgia, Cincinatti, Pennsylvania, Deer Creek Indiana... oh, Deer Creek... San Francisco, New Orleans, Arizona, Denver... would sustain me through the whole work week. I would fly away once, twice or even three time a month. The memory of it - not enough hours in the day to show my happiness. And I couldn't wait to get on the road again:

That three day weekend in 2001 at the Greek in Berkeley: Phil Lesh and Friends - I would recommend listening to June 30th, if you have the means. If only for the Box of Rain encore.

April 2002 at the Warfield for the Rex Foundation benefit: Meeting Bobby Weir and wandering through the antechambers of the backstage, ending up in Jerry's room where Wavy Gravy was holding court.

And, that night of the 2nd show at the Gorge for Phish in 1999 when Mark and I got a second set opening of Wolfman -> Sand (first time played!) and we realized we HAD to go to the Oregon show the next night... no matter that we had to work. Plans were made & lies were told & we were rewarded...

...I wish I could tell the stories. But, somehow, when you say them out loud or write them down, they seem to lose the snap and sparkle of my memories. I think I would rather grin and keep them to myself. I don't think anyone can really understand the experience, unless you've been there. It was...like dying a little bit - that feeling that you're sending out so much because your body simply can't contain it. Giving a piece of your soul to the crowd and the band - only, you don't really mind because it swoops around the room or amphitheatre and returns to you many, many, many times over.

So anyway, lazy Sunday for Kate - One from the Vault is next: come to me 'Franklin's Tower'. Flash to... remembering Paul on the porch at the Grey House in the U when we weren't even old enough to drink, rocking a bottle of Chianti and dancing in his loose, yet controlled little high steps and side-to-side and... that windup? with one hand on the side? like he was rolling up a manual car window.

You don't know man, don't judge - I still use that move.

Share the Road, my ass...

2008-06-17T13:17:00.000-07:00

File under ‘ pleased as punch ‘:

Seeing a cop give a bicyclist a ticket for blowing through a red light last night on my way home from work.

About freaking time, man!

I see cyclists every day that just do whatever they want: jump or blatantly run lights. Roll right through a stop sign at top speed with a cursory glance to the right and left. Wearing headphones? (!!?!!)

"we dream too" by Mae Jane

2008-06-17T12:45:00.000-07:00

A lovely little purchase came for me in the mail while I was away in Costa Rica and after much hanging, re-hanging and tilting, it has found it’s rightful place above my desk.

This girl has got the goods and a wistful and whimsical way of looking at things. I adore it.

Check out her website and you can find some of her other prints on Etsy.

Thank you, Miss Mae Jane!

Isis Report

2008-06-16T14:14:00.000-07:00

W works from home... I am at the mercy of IM reports to monitor if she is still breathing and her muscles haven't atrophied. Today marked a rise in activity, I think it's safe to say that she elevated her heart rate for a nanosecond, taking a brief respite from her normal routine of sleeping, turning around and facing the other way, and sleeping again:

W: WOW!
Isis just jumped onto the kitchen table in front of me,
slapped a fly against the kitchen window with her paws
and ate the poor insect while in free fall back to the floor
WOW!
that quite a feat of agility for someone who's asleep %85 of her existence.

who knew? the fierce tiger that lurks within...

Here she is making some tough decisions about the state of affairs of her post-dinner, pre-evening nap:

to the left?

or

to the right?

ssshhh....this could take some time. must weigh all options.

your worst nightmare

2008-06-16T11:14:00.001-07:00

Tom Cruise frightens me.

No, I mean really. Look.

Isn't that enough?

He looks like a Shrieking Eel ready to attack.

repost: The Writer's Almanac - June 14th, 2008

2008-06-14T09:06:00.000-07:00

I've always loved Garrison Keillor since I was a little girl and listened to his dry stories about Lake Woebegone with my father. You can only imagine how thrilled I was to discover several years ago (from my beloved NPR) that he spends a few minutes each day to talk about literature & poetry and the history of it. Equally thrilled was I to find that you can request a daily mail in which a transcript of his reading is sent to your inbox.

This small part struck me today:

It's the birthday of American novelist Mona Simpson, (books by this author) born in Green Bay, Wisconsin (1957). Simpson's work explores themes of mother-daughter relationships, divorce, absent fathers, and small-town America, beginning with her first novel, Anywhere But Here (1986).

Simpson said, "What I'd finally say about truth and autobiography is that all writers are probably trying to get at some core truth of life, at some configuration that is enduring and truthful. I just haven't found the truth to be my vehicle."

I love that.

one can only have so many 29th birthdays...

2008-06-10T12:13:00.001-07:00

It does rather frighten me to grow old. But not in the way you might think.

I’m surrounded by women all day at work and I see unhappiness etched in their faces & necks and in the jut of their jaws and unsmiling lips. I fear I could very easily become one of them. At what point did they give up and resign themselves to the ravages of life? When did they forget the joy of… simply living?

I am the last person one would think of as a life coach or cheerleader of any sort. I can have the blues, the mean reds and the black scowl on any day – but, I’d like to believe that I haven’t let it infiltrate my soul yet. Otherwise, I suppose I wouldn’t care that the aforementioned even bother me and I would stop clawing my way out of those moods. When does one give up and stop dreaming of more and the fact that life stretched out forever is… still life?

Uh, random thoughts. Rambling. Second verse, same as the first, I suppose. Just was thinking about it. They say you’re only as young as you feel. Perhaps I just catch them at glances when they feel old. I can’t really judge.

Every single person’s life is as complex and multi-faceted as I fancy my own to be.

dream #... let's say we start at...99,999 - Traynor Hansen, aka Gramps

2008-06-09T10:13:00.000-07:00

strangely enough - i dreamt about my Grandpa this morning. sometime between my 5am wake-up call from the cat & my actual alarm @ 6am.

he and Grandma were walking together on a sidewalk - she wearing that nylon jacket she wore for years to every ballgame and Grandpa in his tan/khaki Members Only jacket. i was driving through a parking lot and he flagged me down, pointing to a parking spot right up front next to Claire's - the restaurant i will always and forever associate with them.

'how's my old friend?' he gave me that lopsided grin with the silver filling on half of one of his front teeth and asked me if i'd ever gotten around to reading Frost's 'The Birches' and Gram leaned into the window and said 'hello, dolly', like she always did and smiled too.

then, Grandpa put his arms around her and did a soft little two-step away from me, humming softly and they melted into the brick wall by the sidewalk.

i have no commentary on where they are or if they are happy or what they are doing at this very moment. but... i'd never seen them dance before. i wonder if they meant it or were pretending to be happy for the onlookers. i rarely even think of them anymore; but it's nice to have a remembrance of the carefree air they always portrayed to us kids - a small post-it note of a dream.

His Sparkle and her Trucker.

Beware the Vesper!

2008-06-07T14:16:00.000-07:00

& i'm not talking about those cute little scooters...

My Jabberwocky is the Vesper Martini and I am no longer allowed to drink them:

a) unsupervised;
b) in excess of 2 per evening; and
c) never in the company of strangers

one wonders why they continued to serve me.

i really must still 'have it'. whatever 'it' is. perhaps 'it' is just a valid credit card. hmmm...

Oh Miss Parker, such a wise old sage... Did you know she never drank until well after she was married? Slow starter, I guess.

daily musing #5672

2008-06-06T15:42:00.000-07:00

have i chewed my way through every color in my karmic gumball machine?

repost: Sweet Decay from Rands in Repose

2008-06-04T12:00:00.000-07:00

really enjoyed this.

really speaks to my need to write, document, organize and purr with contentment. not necessarily in that order.

Turn Signals, Part Deux

2008-06-02T11:51:00.000-07:00

We've gone down this proverbial road before.

I believe I am the only person left in Seattle who unlocks their car (pickup, in my case) with a key. I do not have power steering and must use one hand to shift and one to drive. I CAN change the radio dial (ta-da!) while driving and (used to be able to) smoke a cigarette with fair dexterity.
I feel I am the only person left in Seattle who does not see the necessity of talking on my cell phone at 6am while walking a dog or driving to work.
I imagine I am the only person left in Seattle who, when seeing a line for a ‘quick cup of coffee’ at my favorite place, can estimate the minutes and just turn and walk out. One can always do without coffee once in a while. *gasp!*

& yet, I am still able to use my fucking turn signal.

What. The. Hell.

Hey there, fellow Seattlite – lover of all things REI, ‘green’ to the extreme, & espouser of the ‘share the road’ mantra with all these bicycles that can’t follow the rules of the road (‘am I a bike? am I car?’ apparently, whichever identity that allows them to cut you off and flip you the bird simultaneously. Clearly, there is no way to win).

So… you making a turn?
The turn indicator indicates that you will be turning one of two ways.

Fucking use it.

There is no amount of ranting that will make anyone use their turn signals. Half the time, someone flips you off for something you did on the road (regardless of whether or not it your fault), you will do that same thing again just to be difficult.
Case in point, my admittance: if someone is tailgating me, I will slow down to just below the speed limit – yes, sometimes much lower than that. All the while, heckling them in my rear view mirror saying, “Oh, yeah? You in a hurry? Oh… You like that? Fast enough for you? No? Awwww…”
Rather sadistic really.
One wonders if I myself should even be on the road.
It appears I am one unannounced right (or left!) turn away from road rage.

You have been warned. Turn signals, people!

Rawstock - Bar Stories by Justin Freet

2008-06-02T11:48:00.000-07:00

definitely bummed that i missed out on this - any replays around town, Mr Freet?

a cartoon about alcoholism.

is that like funny, but not really funny, like Family Guy?
scratch that, Family Guy is hilarious.
sick & twisted, but hilarious.

don't say it. i know what you're thinking.

ooo! update 08.06.2008

Blue House by kate keith

2008-05-30T14:38:00.000-07:00

new commitment

Blue House is revving up again - 2nd division. Entirely too much time spent mooning over lack of creative juices. let's re-establish that passion.

daily musing #5671

2008-05-29T11:20:00.000-07:00

Spoke with mom last night.

Talking with her is so good for me. It really brings me back down to a manageable level (the proverbial 'voice of reason'). Dad, I know loves me, but I think sometimes I confuse him. I guess I can get a little high-pitched and excitable sometimes and do tend to ramble on... And that stupid cell phone – I’ve never had bad reception and it decides to start crackling on the way home from work. The one time I decide to drive and chat at the same time. Foiled!

She just wanted to see if we were alive, had made it home for Costa Rica or if I’d decided to stay and become a gypsy. Wouldn't it have been nice? Barefoot and freckled? I’m completely infused with this desire to take off & shred responsibility and financial dependence on ‘things’ right now. Even when I was all hippie girl and following Phish around the country, I was still fiscally flush, working full time, with few expenses and really didn’t worry a whit about money. Feel like I'm kind of past that now and it disappoints me a little in myself... that I don't step out and off that ledge like I used to.

Didn’t really get into the family brouhaha of the wedding week – complaing and passing judgment tend to make me feel ugly, as I am completely unable to put the brakes on once I start opening my yap. She just asked how it went, I said “Mom…” and that was enough.

Not to speak ill of the dead, but I don’t think her mother-in-law was very nice to her. I don’t remember Grandma Nita & mom having a particularly loving relationship. My mom holds a lot in, but what does eek out in our conversations - I can’t image how she must have felt. A young woman, new wife, really hasn’t spent that much time away from her own parents (who didn’t coddle her in the least either, if we’re pointing fingers); trying desperately to win approval from a woman who is dead set against giving her an inch. And these poor boys: either they don’t see it, or they don’t want to see it. After all, it’s how they got through living with them. But it doesn’t really leave any room for any new female roles in their lives.

And I do find myself lucky (myself and my brother) that our parents are so supportive and accepting. There to encourage us even if we fuck up royally – too kind to say ‘I told you so’ but give you the space to work it out til you realize… ‘Hey! That kind of was my fault. I am an idiot.’ Self discovery, making your own mistakes, picking yourself up and trying again when you fail miserably – that’s how you grow up, right? Perhaps I was just fortunate enough to have a set of parents who wanted to let their children be responsible for themselves and just hope to high heaven that they gave us the tools to do that.

That’s all you can really do, right? When you have children? Part of what scares me about having children – when it comes down to it, you really can’t control them or make them be good people… you just have to have faith that you did the best you can and now it’s their life to lead.

And then allow them to lead it.

Wish that applied to Isis. I wish she'd cut those apron strings...

Victrola-aaa ("i adore you")

2008-05-28T08:41:00.000-07:00

forgot about how rich and chocolate-y their Streamline blend is.

if i leave for work 5-10 minutes early i can stop and pick myself up a cup.

i can nurse a Starbucks Americano almost all the way to lunchtime - but Victrola?

...maybe an hour.

i raise this Americano up there with... licorice.

ooo-hoo-hoooo..

Las Tortugas

2008-05-27T12:49:00.000-07:00

view from our villa in Costa Rica - Playa Grande, located in the an estuary for giant leatherback turtles & part of the Costa Rica National Park (Las Baulas) system. just missed the nesting/laying season.

i imagine i will eventually be able to write some stories about it. right now i'm sifting the beauty of the experience through my journal. i'll let you know later. so glorious, so hot, so perfect. er, minus the bugs.

i forgot i would have to come back...

2008-05-27T08:23:00.000-07:00

I can do this.
I can’t believe I have to do this.
Vacation is over and I have to go on with the drudgery that didn’t seem all that horrible before I left and now it feels like a death sentence.
Nothing like a good long time away to make you resent all the time you spend at your job.
Wasting time, wasting life…

Damn. Aren’t I just little Miss Merry Freakin' Sunshine this morning? I think it’s the cloud cover.

Sunshine on my shoulder makes me happy

2008-05-16T10:29:00.000-07:00

crazy HOT sunshine on my shoulders - Sat outside before leaving for work for a few minutes: had some coffee in the sunshine. The absolute joy of early morning sunshine and warming air. When the sun has already been up a few hours before you get out of bed. Full sunshine at 6am…makes me think of summer vacation back home when I was little - sitting outside on the porch, looking out of the field and eating my cereal in the sunshine. Squinting…

What a beautiful day.

People are giddy.

I can’t wait to get back out in it & to have some sort of crisp, spritzy alcoholic concoction in my hand.

Gary Busey look-a-like?

2008-05-15T13:04:00.000-07:00

I just thought this was hilarious. I can't believe how much he looks like him.

He has even aged like Gary... old and used. How weird.

& a side note: I can tell you that any man his age who hangs out at Twist is just waiting to get noticed as a meal/drink ticket or so search for something young & inebriated who needs a 'friend'. I've been seeing it too often of late, it seems.

New York (state of mind)

2008-05-14T09:53:00.000-07:00

Back from the Big Apple - settling into work for a few days before going back on the road to Costa Rica. Clearly, i am working very hard, as i am writing this at work & not on a break (ack!).

Arrived Friday evening in a monsoon & at rush hour and had quite the musical journey (bring in the horns) into Manhattan with a very vocal cabbie. Stayed at the Buckingham on W 57th, a hop and a skip (no jump) to the Park. Unpacked, dressed and meandered out in search of an elusive restaurant that W had been to before. We did find it, and it was lovely... but I have already forgotten the name. I did not, however, forget that the dish I had was loaded with truffle oil (my favorite) and I had a giddy half-hour in which I slowly ate my truffle-infused veal & mushrooms.

Saturday morning - of course the first order of business: coffee. Picked up a few breakfast sandwiches and walked down 6th into the Park and commandeered a bench a little ways in. Still a little soggy in places, but the sun was shining and we were almost too warm in our jackets. Strange, the last time we were here, we were smokers... in fact the first time we came here and fell in love, we wiled away many any hour loafing around the park in the chill - switching the hand holding coffee/cigarette to keep from suffering from frostbite. I don't miss the smoke and the smell, I think it's only the habit and the comfort of it that I miss.

We found my Poet's Walk (or Literary, if you prefer), though it was marred by the upbeat (yet sadistic) diatribe of an aerobics instructor that was piped throughout the Park for some godawful exercise-a-thon at the end of the Walk. I have no idea why they would take the tranquility of the Park and turn it into a sideshow like that. Fortunately, Bethseda Terrace and The Angel of the Waters protected us somewhat from the shrieks. However, we were forced to move on quickly, aiming for MOMA.

Surprisingly, neither of us had ever been to MOMA. For myself, every time I went to go the line would stretch down the sidewalk just to get in. And we all know how much I love a good crowd. Er, I don't. Not in the least. So, inaugural visit and all that. Starting on the first few floors, usually the 'new' stuff - special exhibitions. Sometimes I really 'get' modern art and sometimes, well, not so much. I really wasn't blown away and was kind of wondering where the 'real stuff' was, while mentally admonishing myself for not being more open to what was put in front of me. Don't get me wrong: I appreciate new art and do actually enjoy exploring/perusing some of the beautiful strangeness of modern art. But one too many disturbing images (like this woman hula-hooping barbed wire) in a vast sea of them and I was feeling a little overwhelmed. W dragged me away to the top floors where the permanent collections were and I was felt like the sun was shining on me from inside: Rousseau, de Kooning, Jasper Johns, Cezanne, Marcel Duchamp & walls of Picasso... I am sad to report though that, while standing in front of Warhol's 'Campbell's Soup Cans', I did hear the following from a Juicy Couture pink-sweatsuit-clad young woman: "this is so cool. it's like... the ultimate background for my MySpace page", while snapping her gum ala' Violet Beauregarde. class-saay!

Dinner in Little Italy, prefaced by the requisite rally road-race around the edge of Theatre traffic. I got out of the cab and was immediately accosted by a little Asian lady who surreptitiously showed me a small card with pictures of designer purses on it and asked "you want handbags?" I was fairly startled & amused at the same time and as I said "no, thank you", all I could think of was that old joke where a man in a trench coat comes up and says "psst! hey, buddy, wanna buy a watch?" and opens up the inside of the coat to show an array of watches stitched into the inside. very 'Man called Intrepid'...

They had closed the streets off in Little Italy and we turned onto Mulberry just as the sun was starting to set. Every restaurant was opened to the sidewalks and filled will outdoor tables and twinkling white lights. Entirely too many choices, we decided to try something besides our favorite Casa Bella, took a seat at Caffe Napoli & toasted each other with Chianti.

Warm & fuzzy & full of pasta, we tripped down to Houston and took in a little music and another drink at National Underground in the Bowery. Strangely enough, after the set was over, we decided we needed to find yet another bar before calling it a night. Reason triumphed and we took a cab back to Central Park West before settling on the terribly uncreatively named Whiskey Park, situated on the ground floor of Trump Park.

It would have been a wonderful way to end an evening, as we arrived right before the 2nd shift of drinkers poured themselves through the doors... however, we could not tear ourselves away from the floor show that was happening to our right. We tried desperately to avert our eyes but, as W said, it was like watching a train wreck: you can't help but look.

A late 20's/early 30's woman in a polyester floral print dress and drunk, unfocused eyes decided it was of course appropriate to maul her silver-haired date (W says he must have been late 60's... I say late 50's [i had been drinking, i can be generous!]) on the low leather couches. It was rather funny, though W kept grimacing and looking uncomfortable. I was good until I glanced over just as she swung her legs up onto his lap... forgetting the 'knees together' adage. Eep! Needed another drink after that. We all mentally clapped with appreciation when her 'gentleman friend' peeled her off his chest and helped her out the front door. Let's hope the waitress got a good tip.

Sunday & Monday I'm just going to keep in my back pocket... as they are merely a mass of scribbles and remembrances. Sufficied to say, Strawberry Fields was found and the Whitney took me in for a few hours. Lovely, lovely things.

sigh of relief

2008-05-08T07:35:00.000-07:00

i am so glad my life is not a reality show.

the ratings would suck.

i downloaded the photos from my new camera this morning: over 100 (of maybe 112?!??) of the photos taken are of my cat. & yes! i do have friends. i just find myself overwhelmingly addicted to her common, everyday behavior.

cute? or strange? hmmmm.....

you be the judge:

'what you donta understand, is that-a-a... theese rug.... theese rug righta here. theese rug... she has to die.'
aftermath of the struggle:

'is that sniper fire?!'

seriously, i didn't really like that rug anyway. it's cool.

every time i straighten it out, i come back and it's in another stage of abuse - wadded or rolled up to one side & thick straggles of thread trailing across the hardwood. it's like that scene in 'the sixth sense' where the mother turns from the table to the counter in the span of 3 seconds and the place is a hot mess. clearly the work of the dev-ill....

anyway.

perhaps Isis and i need to get out more.

i say again: the ratings would suck.

Ocho, Ballard

2008-05-06T11:58:00.000-07:00

it was my third glorious trip to Ocho last night & crossing my fingers seems to have worked: the date stuffed with blue cheese and wrapped with bacon (i'll pause while you drool) was still on the menu. carry on, carry on.... to only be purchased when positively full, otherwise they will be the only thing i order.

tried to hit the swing shift and arrived around 5-ish just as the happy hour crowd poured themselves out the door on to NW Market. A had snagged a table and we hunkered down to wait for J to extricate herself from work. thank god we had libations for distraction... and that garlic shrimp. don't come to close. not because i don't want you to smell my breath, i just don't want you to feel like i'm willing to share.

Zack, manning the bar: oh that devil, the El Picador! a vodka martini with a dash of cucumber with a rosemary spring pinning a small square of beet to the bottom. I know it sounds rather strange, but there is something about the aroma of the rosemary and the oddity of the beet speared into the V of a martini glass...

tomato toast: it says so little, but drenched in rich olive oil we couldn't help but order a few plates. $2 a wedge is a little pricey - until you bite into it, savoring the flavors of tomato jaminess, olive oil and slice of manchego that has been delicately broiled to perfection. yes, yes, if i could purr, i most certainly would.

magic number eight, thy name is Ocho!

addendum: finally! they have a website. check 'er out.

Music: The Midnight Ramblers

2008-05-05T14:16:00.000-07:00

Just cracked open the wrapping on this little gem (sheer dumb luck) and am sorry I'm going to miss the show. Lord knows I love a little rambling blues... almost heard a little Bobby Weir in the vocals - eased back like a lazy-boy recliner.

And who doesn't love the Musicquarium?? The laid back little sister of the Triple Door. So: Go, enjoy, tell me about it later and hopefully I'll be able to catch up with you on the next one.

daily musing #5670

2008-04-30T17:11:00.000-07:00

it's been... a day.

work has been/become...disappointing. why are there so many problems, issues, squabbles, etc? like a bunch of children, i swear.
just tired. tired of it all.
around 2pm, i felt like all i wanted to do was make it home and stare at the wall.

i'm mad at W for getting to work from home - suspicious that he really doesn't do all that much work.
i'm mad at Isis for laying around and living the high life day in, & day out here at the Blue House.

why would i want to go off to work every morning with this kind of example?! why wouldn't i be a little irritated instead of sunshine-y when i leave for work every morning and see the both of them lounging on the couch, waiting for the coffee to brew and soaking in NPR.

just jealous. frustrated.

& why has it been so long since i've done a collage?

& would i really blossom creatively if i didn't work Monday thru Friday? i'm not completely sure - skeptical even. even though i can do a lot of work and do it well, i'm still a procrastinator by nature. sometimes it seems like i'm all about ideas and dreams - lacking follow through.
i can't even work up a righteous anger. just a simmering dissatisfaction that only some writing and questionable looks from Isis can relieve.

or... darts and a Taz* drink or two.

*'rawking' bartender at my local bar

un-hibernating

2008-04-30T10:15:00.000-07:00

hit me this morning: i'm going to have to be in a bathing suit in a little over two weeks.

*erk*

this is the con of the mid-season 'sunny climes' vacation - white skin and winter weight, er, protection. i'm looking a bit like this guy -> sure, he's all cute and cuddly, but look at that waist... there isn't one! and those chubby cheeks and the pudgy little belly that goes all the way down to his feet. he doesn't wear any clothes cause he can't fit into any of them! i refuse to buy new summer clothes simply because i've gained a few extra pounds in red wine, cheese and various other influences. must have been the 'Winter of Kate!'...

anyway, the only sun i've had is a fluke shoulder sunburn on the steamboat in New Orleans and that one Saturday morning a few weeks ago. this is NOT going to be pretty.

although, one might say, i shouldn't be complaining - after all, i will be running in the waves and basking in the sun in Costa Rica - but my sorrow isn't for me. it's for the poor folks that will have to look at me and then spend all that extra time scrubbing the image away.

let's hope there isn't any permanent corneal sear-age.

Sending out an S.O.S...

2008-04-25T11:59:00.000-07:00

My heart literally did that loopity- loo of long lost and unrequited love when I found this picture…

Until I realized that it was just a picture and not a link to where I could buy them.

This is the exact pen. Pin-Knock 0.48 – yes, it sounds like an awfully small little razor point nib – but that’s my aim. I adore the tearing little ‘scritch-scratch’ sound it makes as it slices through the fuzzy grains on each page.

I just clicked open my very last pen (cue 'Taps' here).

The affair began with QA Office Supply Store - now out of business. And even 6 months ago before they went belly up, they stopped carrying them. I should have seen the proverbial writing on the moleskine. They offered to try and contact the distributor to get some for me but it ended up being $22 for a box of 12, plus shipping. 12! So, ‘never mind’, thinking no way would I pay that much for pens. I may be particular about my pens, but I was sure they could be found nearly anywhere.

Not. Necessarily.True.

I do constant searches online. I scour notebookism, moleskinerie, and any number of stationary admiration society sites in the hopes of finding a link to buy these stupid pens.

I'm unable to even find the brand in the majority of stores. Those I do find are *gasp* ballpoint – containing ink that skips across the top of the page. They remind me of my first pens (erasable) that were finally given when you could (somewhat) still be trusted NOT to write on the walls, carpet, counter, etc. Bounces over the page like skiing moguls down ‘Big Chief’ at Stevens.

So: enjoy this last barrel of ink, Dear Journal. That accustomed scratching will soon be replaced by a cavalcade of fine point pens, giving it their all - trying to convince me that they are the next big thing. Most of them will bleed too much, smear or be deemed not 'fine' enough. Oh how I suffer for my art...

*sniff*

and kitty makes three

2008-04-22T19:12:00.000-07:00

Isis in her best ‘I am not amused/are you talking to me?/you just interrupted my meditation’ stink eye.

Thank you, mz mae jane – just because I don’t have children doesn’t mean I don’t deserve to inundate the world with her image and ramble on about her general goddess-ness.

My god… she has become my child, hasn't she?

When we go out to eat with our childless friends, we all talk about the ‘cutest things’ our cats (being city people, it's quite hard to keep a dog in good conscience) 'did the other day'. I wonder sometimes if I’m irrationally in love with my cat... & then in a split-second, am irritated with her meows for attention and rubbing her hair all over my pants or skirt on the way to work - the stinker.

I make W look at her when she’s sleeping, stretching, sitting, purring, flopping or turning over – saying, “oh look! look!’ with excitement and glee. He says he keeps expecting her to be singing “Ragtime Doll” and doing some high kicks, ala’ Michigan J Frog – but to no avail. He claims I “cry kitty”.

Watch this space for the magic moment when I will indeed catch her doing the dishes, shining shoes or performing ‘who’s on first?’ – playing… both parts.

Yes, folks, she is that phenomenal. Indeed, the goddess of all.

driving conversation #1

2008-04-22T12:10:00.000-07:00

with W on the way to work this morning. i had just meowed, 'i love you. you know, 'meow, meow, meow' - don't ask:

K: 'I don’t know why you like me, I’m so weird.'
W:'Of course I like you. I love you! I’m weird too.'
K: 'Yeah, but…' (with a dubious shrug)
W:'You’re like, you know, the girl from Seinfeld' (mimes the infamous dancing, complete with little side kicks - quite the feat since he is driving)
K: 'Elaine?'
W:'Yeah, like Elaine.'

K: pause..'So… I’m a mean funny. hmmm...'

three sheets to the wind

2008-04-16T09:27:00.000-07:00

no, not me - keep reading:

i don't know what spurred W to ask about this yesterday (probably read it in his current book: Lincoln, by Gore Vidal - right?), but it quickly became rather apparent that while we knew what it implied, we had no idea why having only 3 sheets was such an oft used term for being drunk.

enter whatdoesthatmean.com

rah-heeally... you can lose (have) one sail (martini), and even two (martinis) & still maintain some semblance of control. but if you lose (get to) that third one (martini) - you're deemed out of control (teetering on those heels and unfit to drive).

i had no idea. how delightfully fitting.

'i like to have a martini, two at the very most.
three i'm under the table, four i'm under the host'
- the lovely Mrs Dorothy Parker (a vicious little porcupine of caustic wit)

how did this happen?!

2008-04-14T10:02:00.000-07:00

i looked down on my way into work this morning and - ACK! - realized i was wearing sensible shoes.

sensible shoes, people!

plain kenneth cole black leather pumps, snub nosed toe, demure stitching and a mere two-inch heel that feels like one - and it's not even a cute, kicky little 'kitten heel'! i've lost my spark! my pizzazz! my will to live!

it must be the job, or... the fact that i have to work (?) can anyone help me here? (old friend John? <- if anyone gets that, you better email me, it will make my day)

i'm going to go out on a limb here and say it's just because it's Monday and i felt absolutely no motivation to waste a good outfit on a Monday. Mondays do not scream 'wear something you have to dry clean!' or 'show them how refreshed you are from the weekend!' hence, the hippie skirt and boring heels.

i have really gone downhill... i must not go quietly into the workday! let's get it together, kate!

cue the theme music...

for one day ONLY! act quickly....

2008-04-12T09:12:00.000-07:00

...glorious sunshine!

and except for the everpresent undrone of cars and trucks in far reaching concentric circles of hum - it feels like a morning on the lake. warm... but crisp.
you know the moment your eyes open, before they open, that this is going to be a golden day. & then to stand in the front door, testing the air, trying to decide if i need a sweater or socks. and then, gleefully, discovering i do not.

even the wind is warm.

NOLA quote #1

2008-04-03T13:49:00.000-07:00

sorry i'm stealing this one from you, Mr A Jonathan Cox, it was too perfect not to put out there for the masses.

as told to me by the aforemention gentleman above - words he never thought he'd hear himself say:

"let's go to the other gay bar"

i mean... what do you say to that?

you don't say anything.
you giggle until that rum & coke snorts out your nose.

'YOU do that Voodoo that YOU do so well...'

2008-03-25T14:28:00.001-07:00

Vacation time is finally here & even though it’s just a quick little jaunt down to New Orleans I feel so relieved to be getting away from work and responsibility of any type. I can’t stop the madness! Why is the last day before vacation always so unbearable?

Clickity-click-click-click: look at all this – live music to literally beat the band. Oh sweet little Maple Leaf Bar – how I love thee! And by God in heaven… there is a tribute to NOLA drummers at Howlin’ Wolf on Friday – my heart is all a-flutter.

Baked potato smothered in sauteed mushrooms and butter in the deepest, darkest booth at Port of Call; that morning cup of coffee at du Monde and trying desperately not to get beignet powder all down my front and failing miserably; streetcar to the Garden District, bare arms in the sunshine. And you can bet that if one of my friends falls down due to drunkenness in the French Quarter: I am going to laugh. Though, I will try not to do it until I ask if they are okay. I try to still be a lady (once, twice, but never three times) ...

Tomorrow night – the inaugural evening of the trip always requires a stroll down Bourbon… (70 degree forcast) casually sipping a dirty birdy little drink of some sort… sidestepping con men and the occasionally spot o' vomit.

Wish us luck! I just got new shoes...

Rites of Spring

2008-03-20T12:05:00.000-07:00

It really does feel like it came early this year; part of me thinks that’s just because we ‘sprung’ forward with daylight-savings time two weeks earlier than normal. I know it has something to do with the Energy Policy Act, but I don’t quite understand the reasoning on the extra two weeks… but its okay with me if they want to give me a little more sunshine in the evenings. Since the majority of home electricity use is in the evening – if it’s lighter out longer, people will spend less time indoors & use less energy in the home.
I LOVE daylight-savings time in the Spring… tricking our minds into thinking the days are longer, lighter later. Funny how it makes your heart swoop a little on those days when you walk out of work and the sun is still going strong.

It’s like hearing the first strains of Tom Petty & the Heartbreakers 'Runnin Down A Dream’ – the guitar driving strong like it’s rushing over the open road, wind in your hair, sunshine beating down and you've got nowhere to go but forward.

For Free: Milk

2008-03-07T11:36:00.000-08:00

W & I are officially living in sin.

And it feels glorious! I will admit, the house is still in a bit of shambles, but it’s a process that we have to accomplish in between work, other plans and that all important sleep. The only thing getting me out of bed this morning was the absolute knowledge that it was Friday and I could sleep in tomorrow morning. Well, until 10… & then I have to take Isis to the vet. Great – she is going to love that: two trips in the cat carrier in one week. My cuts from the last great ‘cram the cat into that little box’ struggle haven’t even healed yet. I wonder where W put those gardening gloves…
The kitchen was an all day job on Sunday and since then it’s been a constant putter and put-away that we’ve just been sort of moving through. As long as I can see progress, I feel good about it. Here’s hoping W feels the same way. I think we’ll definitely have the place put together to our specifications by the time his birthday rolls around in two weeks. Party at the Blue House!
My little room/studio is nearly put together – not counting everything that I pushed into the closet so it would be ‘out of the way’ while I get everything else dusted, organized and arranged. For a creative person, I certain do need to keep things tidy – clutter makes me nervous. I don’t like to say I’m uptight about how things are put away, but I’m a big believer in the fact that everything has its own perfectly appointed little place. What’s so wrong with that?
The only thing that’s really bothering me is the fact that I haven’t been reading – or really writing – in the last two weeks or so. What with all the hoopla of packing, moving, cleaning… perhaps this is just another procrastination tactic on my part?!? I wouldn’t put it past me…

the common loon

2008-02-22T13:48:00.000-08:00

i don't talk to crazy people on the bus or on the street - why am i in a job where i am forced to converse with them & even worse, take their concerns seriously?

help me!