ME: You're closing the curtains?
ADAM: When was the last time we did that?
ME: You're scared of a bunch of munchkins.
ADAM: I just don't want to disappoint.
ME: No, baby, you're just a pussy.
Wednesday, October 31, 2007
Makes me smile!
"I couldn't love you any more if I'd given birth to you," my mother told Adam the other night, "and I mean that. You two are so lucky to have found each other. Your relationship is one of the highlights of my life."
Adam's dad called the other night. "I'm glad you're getting married," he said. Simple and sincere. If I said I cried, would you laugh?
Adam's dad called the other night. "I'm glad you're getting married," he said. Simple and sincere. If I said I cried, would you laugh?
Tuesday, October 30, 2007
In grad school, I was taught that the best stories had a secondary meaning, that there was never just one layer to anything.
What's the deeper layer to why I'm up now and have been for the last two hours, pissed off?
The mature part of me says Bitch please, there are so many other important things to worry about -- and so much to be thankful for. It speaks in a voice that is slow and smooth, reasoned and balanced.
Then there's the pissed-off and true inner voice: Because why should I? Right now, that one sounds like the front story. Maybe after coffee it'll change.
What's the deeper layer to why I'm up now and have been for the last two hours, pissed off?
The mature part of me says Bitch please, there are so many other important things to worry about -- and so much to be thankful for. It speaks in a voice that is slow and smooth, reasoned and balanced.
Then there's the pissed-off and true inner voice: Because why should I? Right now, that one sounds like the front story. Maybe after coffee it'll change.
Sunday, October 28, 2007
Dead Man Camping
I've gotta go with the lede on this one. Sean Penn hits some good moments on "Into the Wild", but overall the cult of Penn pretension (or, as Adam puts it, reading from the book of Sean Penn 3:18) wore thin after nearly two and a half hours. Also, I can't say the main character was too endearing, or that I gave a damn that he gave up a $24K trust fund to go rough it and eventually croak from poison berries. Sorry for the spoiler. Also, here's a great rebuttal of the "Cult of Chris McCandless (main character)" by a park ranger. That's one guy who should know!
Could be worse. I could've been seeing Brokeback Mountain with Adam. Again. What a disaster that was. He took inspiration from Cartman's assertion that "independent films are always about gay cowboys eating pudding" -- and every time a climactic moment arose, he wanted to know if it was time for dessert. Beautiful.
Could be worse. I could've been seeing Brokeback Mountain with Adam. Again. What a disaster that was. He took inspiration from Cartman's assertion that "independent films are always about gay cowboys eating pudding" -- and every time a climactic moment arose, he wanted to know if it was time for dessert. Beautiful.
Jesse Dillinger, you're an idiot
"Jesse Dillinger, who came to the neighborhood trying to find out whether a friend was safe, drove to the end of the cul-de-sac and paused in front of each burned-out hulk to snap a photo.
"She offered no apologies.
“ 'A reason why a lot of us will take pictures is it's part of our collective history now,' the marriage therapist said. “We all had a part in it. I think that's normal.' ”
Part of our collective history? Please. You fucking hippie. Have some respect.Saturday, October 27, 2007
Glad to see ...
That San Diego's back to being San Diego. From Craigslist:
Reply to: pers-456513330@craigslist.org
Date: 2007-10-22, 1:06PM PDT
Larry Himmels house burned down.....If you are old enough to remember the "Biff and Skippy" T.V. show (bad). Then you must be pretty old...like me :)
Sorry Larry, hang in in there dude!
Biff's house burned down..........
Reply to: pers-456513330@craigslist.org
Date: 2007-10-22, 1:06PM PDT
Larry Himmels house burned down.....If you are old enough to remember the "Biff and Skippy" T.V. show (bad). Then you must be pretty old...like me :)
Sorry Larry, hang in in there dude!
- Location: sd
- it's NOT ok to contact this poster with services or other commercial interests
Friday, October 26, 2007
Firefighters are heroes
I have no other way of saying it other than on this dopey blog. Thank you, you brave men and women, for giving everything over the last few days!
'Imagine if Einstein had gotten a B on a test in school'
Bruce, pull through! We're coming to see you tonight.
What size gift will get me entry to her vageen?
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Dixon: Home of the world's biggest corn maze!
I actually passed by the Cool Patch when I drove to Davis on Wednesday. Hey, you gotta have something in Dixon besides three traffic lights.
Thursday, October 25, 2007
As the smoke clears
People lost their homes. People I know. Kasey Jeffcoat's family. I went to high school with Kasey. The first home Tracy Deebs owned with her husband, gone. I'll bet Anne Chen's old house on Locksley is gone, and the fires came damn close to where her family moved in Highlands Ranch. Two people dead, burned to death in their own home. Just seeing these names and thinking about what went on down there makes me so incredibly sad.
Wednesday, October 24, 2007
Typical conversation
ME: Way too much has been made of Charles Bukowski.
ADAM: Snort.
ME: What?
HIM: Nothin.
ADAM: Snort.
ME: What?
HIM: Nothin.
Allison Sandler Landa
I always knew I wouldn't drop Landa if ever I did get married. (Something I was never quite certain I'd do!)
Still, I wanted to take some element of Adam's name. Hence the new name when we do the deed: Allison Sandler Landa.
Some brides-to-be think about tablecloths and obsess on floral arrangements. Me, I just write my New Name on my notebooks like a giddy schoolgirl.
Of course, as Adam points out, there is always the option of combining our two names. Allison and Adam Slander?
Still, I wanted to take some element of Adam's name. Hence the new name when we do the deed: Allison Sandler Landa.
Some brides-to-be think about tablecloths and obsess on floral arrangements. Me, I just write my New Name on my notebooks like a giddy schoolgirl.
Of course, as Adam points out, there is always the option of combining our two names. Allison and Adam Slander?
Tuesday, October 23, 2007
SD fires continue to burn
I've been referring to the Union-Tribune forums and Brian's blog to get much of my information. It looks like the homes burned on Old Winery were up the hill from where I lived at 13306. I don't know any of those families, but does that matter? My heart goes out to them.
I'm very glad to see that the Bernardo Winery was probably spared, as was the DeFrancesco's house (I think).
I am also thankful to my clients, who have been very understanding in this tough time.
I'm very glad to see that the Bernardo Winery was probably spared, as was the DeFrancesco's house (I think).
I am also thankful to my clients, who have been very understanding in this tough time.
Monday, October 22, 2007
"There have been structure losses in northern Poway, overlooking Lake Hodges."
That could mean the home on Old Winery is no longer. I've heard from all my family members, though, which of course is the most important thing.
That could mean the home on Old Winery is no longer. I've heard from all my family members, though, which of course is the most important thing.
The words ringing through Poway at this minute
Jethro, get the Monet and pack up the SUV. We're hauling ass outta here!
San Diego fires
From the San Diego County Emergency website:
All residents east of Espola Road From Lake Poway Road through Valle Verde Road have been asked to evacuate immediately. This includes the High Valley , Bridlewood Country Estates, Stoneridge, Heritage, Old Coach and Old Winery neighborhoods.
The Old Winery neighborhood was the last place I lived in San Diego.
Talked to my family this morning. They're pretty much all packed up and ready should the evacuations come. They're calm, considering. Jesus.
All residents east of Espola Road From Lake Poway Road through
The Old Winery neighborhood was the last place I lived in San Diego.
Talked to my family this morning. They're pretty much all packed up and ready should the evacuations come. They're calm, considering. Jesus.
Sunday, October 21, 2007
And we didn't even really drink that much tonight.
ADAM: There's definitely some days I'd fuck a croissant.
ME: Some random shit about how retarded he is. Just fill in the blank.
ADAM: What, you'd never fuck a croissant?
ME: It's nothing I've ever considered.
ME: Some random shit about how retarded he is. Just fill in the blank.
ADAM: What, you'd never fuck a croissant?
ME: It's nothing I've ever considered.
Saturday, October 20, 2007
One of the first dances
Will be this song. Ignore the dorky video and concentrate on Sting's amazing vocals.
Friday, October 19, 2007
A "safe injection" center in San Francisco
I'm really torn about this one.
On a practical level, though I would really rather my tax dollars not go to supporting junkies and their habits, I recognize that my dollars do indeed go to just that -- whether it's providing a safer, sterile center or paying for cleanup and medical expenses.
Having worked in a harm-reduction environment, I can say there's a large gap between theory and reality. Implementation of the harm reduction principles essentially turned the place where I worked into a crack house where residents could shoot up at their leisure, then receive medical services on demand. Where's the incentive to get -- and stay -- healthy?
There's also talk about "removing the stigma" from being an IV drug user. Yes, let's do that. People in Belmont can't light up a cigarette in their own apartments, and there's forces at work in San Francisco that say there should be no stigma surrounding heroin.
Finally, I'm mixed about the concern for living conditions in the Tenderloin going downhill as a result of the center. Folks, let's face it. This neighborhood is like Night of the Living Dead anyway. I'm not saying inviting more addicts in is a good thing, but if you're raising your kids in the TL, you already know you can't let them play outside.
On a practical level, though I would really rather my tax dollars not go to supporting junkies and their habits, I recognize that my dollars do indeed go to just that -- whether it's providing a safer, sterile center or paying for cleanup and medical expenses.
Having worked in a harm-reduction environment, I can say there's a large gap between theory and reality. Implementation of the harm reduction principles essentially turned the place where I worked into a crack house where residents could shoot up at their leisure, then receive medical services on demand. Where's the incentive to get -- and stay -- healthy?
There's also talk about "removing the stigma" from being an IV drug user. Yes, let's do that. People in Belmont can't light up a cigarette in their own apartments, and there's forces at work in San Francisco that say there should be no stigma surrounding heroin.
Finally, I'm mixed about the concern for living conditions in the Tenderloin going downhill as a result of the center. Folks, let's face it. This neighborhood is like Night of the Living Dead anyway. I'm not saying inviting more addicts in is a good thing, but if you're raising your kids in the TL, you already know you can't let them play outside.
No wonder the French hate us
"Deep in the Gallic soul resides the notion that work is exploitation, a ruse concocted by American robber barons, best regulated and minimized and offset by hours of idleness."
Perhaps I'm French after all?
Perhaps I'm French after all?
Morning conversation
ADAM: Tantric Masturbatory Yoga. Now that's a class you'd sign up for.
ME: That's a class I'd teach. Then again, never mind. Fucking Tantra. Please.
ADAM: Downward-facing doggy style.
ME: That's a class I'd teach. Then again, never mind. Fucking Tantra. Please.
ADAM: Downward-facing doggy style.
Thursday, October 18, 2007
Wednesday, October 17, 2007
Anniveraries, regrets, Paul Theroux
Oct. 17 is an anniversary of sorts. So is Oct. 19, and so is Oct. 22. Long live three years of incredible happiness -- raucous times and all. I look forward to many, many more. Baby, I prize and adore you.
The joy I feel today makes me wish I could share it with long-lost friends ... people departed through mutual stubbornness and misunderstandings. If only I could reach out. If only they would.
On a more literary note, I'm just finishing up The Pillars of Hercules by Paul Theroux. A few passages I love:
"Cold and unsettled at the edge of this desert, feeling thwarted, this enforced isolation filled my mind with memories of injustice -- put-downs, misunderstandings, unresolved disputes, abusive remarks, rudeness, arguments I had lost, humiliations. Some of these instances went back many years. For a reason I could not explain, I thought of everything that had ever gone wrong in my life. I kept telling myself, 'So what?' and 'Never mind,' but it was no good. I could not stop the flow of unpleasant images, and I was tormented."
"Places had voices that were not their own; they were backdrops to a greater drama, or else to something astonishingly ordinary, like the ragged laundry hung from the nave of a plundered Crusader church in Tartus on the Syrian coast. Most of the time, traveling, I had no idea where I was going. I was not even quite sure why. I was no historian. I was not a geographer. I hated politics. What I liked most was having space and time; getting up in the morning and setting off for a destination which, at any moment -- if something compelled my attention -- I could abandon. I had no theme. I did not want one. I had set out to be on the Mediterranean, without a fixed program. I was not writing a book -- I was living my life, and had found an agreeable way to do it."
The joy I feel today makes me wish I could share it with long-lost friends ... people departed through mutual stubbornness and misunderstandings. If only I could reach out. If only they would.
On a more literary note, I'm just finishing up The Pillars of Hercules by Paul Theroux. A few passages I love:
"Cold and unsettled at the edge of this desert, feeling thwarted, this enforced isolation filled my mind with memories of injustice -- put-downs, misunderstandings, unresolved disputes, abusive remarks, rudeness, arguments I had lost, humiliations. Some of these instances went back many years. For a reason I could not explain, I thought of everything that had ever gone wrong in my life. I kept telling myself, 'So what?' and 'Never mind,' but it was no good. I could not stop the flow of unpleasant images, and I was tormented."
"Places had voices that were not their own; they were backdrops to a greater drama, or else to something astonishingly ordinary, like the ragged laundry hung from the nave of a plundered Crusader church in Tartus on the Syrian coast. Most of the time, traveling, I had no idea where I was going. I was not even quite sure why. I was no historian. I was not a geographer. I hated politics. What I liked most was having space and time; getting up in the morning and setting off for a destination which, at any moment -- if something compelled my attention -- I could abandon. I had no theme. I did not want one. I had set out to be on the Mediterranean, without a fixed program. I was not writing a book -- I was living my life, and had found an agreeable way to do it."
Showdown in downtown Berkeley!
So I don't go to Peoples for a day and all holy straw-hat hell breaks loose.
I noticed Code Pink demonstrating a few weeks ago outside the military recruitment office. I just felt sorry for the people working in the adjacent buildings -- having to listen to the hoots and squawks and howls and honking horns. Seriously. That can get annoying after a while.
Then today -- this! Code Pink is facing off against the U.S. Marine Corps recruiting station and its supporters. Way to go, girls. Let's hear it for your support of freedom of speech -- and freedom of choice. And by the way, our military presence (at least partly) works to support the Fifth Amendment. People die -- and continue to die -- so you can make a pain in the ass out of yourself at the corner of Shattuck and Addison.
I was impressed with Capt. Richard Lund's letter to the Berkeley Daily Planet. Wonder if Becky O'Malley gave him the rough side of her tongue, too.
I noticed Code Pink demonstrating a few weeks ago outside the military recruitment office. I just felt sorry for the people working in the adjacent buildings -- having to listen to the hoots and squawks and howls and honking horns. Seriously. That can get annoying after a while.
Then today -- this! Code Pink is facing off against the U.S. Marine Corps recruiting station and its supporters. Way to go, girls. Let's hear it for your support of freedom of speech -- and freedom of choice. And by the way, our military presence (at least partly) works to support the Fifth Amendment. People die -- and continue to die -- so you can make a pain in the ass out of yourself at the corner of Shattuck and Addison.
I was impressed with Capt. Richard Lund's letter to the Berkeley Daily Planet. Wonder if Becky O'Malley gave him the rough side of her tongue, too.
Tuesday, October 16, 2007
On storytelling at the Moth
What is the appeal of sharing stories?
The appeal and the process are different for different groups. For anyone who�s professionally involved with narrative, whether as a writer, filmmaker or performer, I think part of the appeal of doing a 10-minute Moth story is the process of condensing a story to its essence. Writers have often told me that telling their Moth story helped them get to the core of a longer script or book project they were working on and perhaps struggling with. For everyone else, the appeal is to tell a story that wouldn�t otherwise be shared with anyone outside their personal circles.
Generally speaking, writers need to get away from the page (all stories must be told live without notes), actors need to get away from acting, and people who have no previous experience with narrative or performing arts need help structuring and delivering the story in the most compelling way.
More here.
The appeal and the process are different for different groups. For anyone who�s professionally involved with narrative, whether as a writer, filmmaker or performer, I think part of the appeal of doing a 10-minute Moth story is the process of condensing a story to its essence. Writers have often told me that telling their Moth story helped them get to the core of a longer script or book project they were working on and perhaps struggling with. For everyone else, the appeal is to tell a story that wouldn�t otherwise be shared with anyone outside their personal circles.
Generally speaking, writers need to get away from the page (all stories must be told live without notes), actors need to get away from acting, and people who have no previous experience with narrative or performing arts need help structuring and delivering the story in the most compelling way.
More here.
"'The use of predominantly pastel centerpieces had a significant impact on the look of the room and was entirely inconsistent with the vision the plaintiffs had bargained for,' Glatt, a lawyer, said in the lawsuit, filed on behalf of herself, her husband, David, and her mother-in-law, Tobi Glatt, who paid for the flowers.
"The flowers cost $27,435.14. The lawsuit asks for more than $400,000 in restitution and damages."
A New York JAP sues because her wedding flowers weren't picture-perfect. I can just hear the nasal whining. And don't get pissed at me for invoking the term Jewish-American Princess. I'm a Jew. I know a JAP when I see one.
There's nothing wrong with showing sex as it is -- not always carefree fun. I applaud Ang Le and the other directors who have the courage to do this.
Sunday, October 14, 2007
What cats know about war
"That is when I heard it: the cry of an abandoned kitten, somewhere out in the darkness, calling for its mother somewhere inside the compound. By an animal lover’s anthropomorphic logic, those desperate calls, three nights running, had come to seem more than the appeal of a tiny creature doomed to a cold and lonely death. Deep in the winter night, they seemed like a dismal tocsin for all who suffer in a time of war."
The New York Times on reporters' pet cats in Baghdad.
The New York Times on reporters' pet cats in Baghdad.
Friday, October 12, 2007
"Watching Brad Pitt and Angelina Jolie recently in Ethiopia, cuddling African children and lecturing the world on charity, the image that immediately sprang to my mind was Tarzan and Jane."
Paul Theroux on celebrities for Africa.
Paul Theroux on celebrities for Africa.
Is this why I want to book a trip to Guatemala?
The saddest sight my eyes can see is that big ball of orange sinking slyly down the trees
Sitting in a broken circle while you rest upon my knee this perfect moment will soon be leaving me
Suzanne calls from Boston the coffee's hot the corn is high
And that same sun that warms your heart will suck the good earth dry
With everything it's opposite enough to keep you crying or keep this old world spinning with a twinkle in its eye
Get out the map get out the map and lay your finger anywhere down
We'll leave the figuring to those we pass on our way out of town
Don't drink the water there seems to be something ailing everyone I'm gonna clear my head
I'm gonna drink that sun I'm gonna love you good and strong
while our love is good and young Joni left for South Africa a few years ago and then
Beth took a job all the way over on the West Coast
And me I'm still trying to live half a life on the road
I'm heavier by the year and heavier by the load.
Why do we hurtle ourselves through every inch of time and space I must say around some corner
I can sense a resting place
With every lesson learned a line upon your beautiful face
We'll amuse ourselves one day with these memories we'll trace
Get out the map get out the map and lay your finger anywhere down
We'll leave the figuring to those we pass on our way out of town
Don't drink the water there seems to be something ailing everyone
I'm gonna clear my head I'm gonna drink the sun
I'm gonna love you good and strong while our love is good and young
- Indigo Girls
Sitting in a broken circle while you rest upon my knee this perfect moment will soon be leaving me
Suzanne calls from Boston the coffee's hot the corn is high
And that same sun that warms your heart will suck the good earth dry
With everything it's opposite enough to keep you crying or keep this old world spinning with a twinkle in its eye
Get out the map get out the map and lay your finger anywhere down
We'll leave the figuring to those we pass on our way out of town
Don't drink the water there seems to be something ailing everyone I'm gonna clear my head
I'm gonna drink that sun I'm gonna love you good and strong
while our love is good and young Joni left for South Africa a few years ago and then
Beth took a job all the way over on the West Coast
And me I'm still trying to live half a life on the road
I'm heavier by the year and heavier by the load.
Why do we hurtle ourselves through every inch of time and space I must say around some corner
I can sense a resting place
With every lesson learned a line upon your beautiful face
We'll amuse ourselves one day with these memories we'll trace
Get out the map get out the map and lay your finger anywhere down
We'll leave the figuring to those we pass on our way out of town
Don't drink the water there seems to be something ailing everyone
I'm gonna clear my head I'm gonna drink the sun
I'm gonna love you good and strong while our love is good and young
- Indigo Girls
You and me, girl, got a highway to the sky
Listening to Bee Gees videos on YouTube while working. Right now I've got "Too Much Heaven" on, which reminds me of being a little little kid on our blue-green carpet in East Lyme, Connecticut. I remember how being protected felt built-in, a warm given.
Five years ago I met the person who made me remember that feeling. I'm marrying him.
Five years ago I met the person who made me remember that feeling. I'm marrying him.
Thursday, October 11, 2007
Last night, Adam and I got to talking about why I keep this blog.
It often happens that in conversation with him, I say things I never knew I knew, thought, or felt. It's one of the charms of being with him.
There are several reasons I keep this blog:
- It's an exercise in off-the-cuff expression, often of strong emotion or reaction. I've written about many personal topics here. That's no accident. It's not only mentally healthy for me, but it's a creative exercise in storytelling, which will help me onstage.
- It's a way to keep in touch with friends, many of whom I don't speak with on a regular basis. These are people who have sought me out and expressed interest in my everyday goings-on, but who have lives and can't email or call every day. That includes my best friend from high school, who has three kids and a husband and a teaching career, but who makes time to get in touch, check up on what's going on in my life, and ask me about it.
- It's an opportunity to broadcast events -- readings and such -- to a greater audience without sending out mass emails.
A year ago I had another blog. I shut it down and made it private after family members expressed objections about its content to Adam. I never invited them to read it. They found it, read it, got angry about it, and let him know.
I quickly realized I missed this open forum and began another one.
Shortly after I graduated from St. Mary's, I got my feathers in a flurry after reading a post on a former professor's blog. She didn't name me by name, but she definitely fired off a few unflattering salvos.
I now realize she had every right to do so. She didn't invite me to read her blog. I sought her out and did so willingly. I shouldn't at all have been surprised or pissed off at what she wrote. Ever read someone's diary and feel stung at what you find? It's a little like that.
I've never asked anyone to read this. This is for me first and for everyone else a distant second. Anyone who's found this blog has done exactly as I did with my former professor -- went out on the internet, looked me up, and continued to read it.
An addendum here. I really want to be part of Adam's family. I want to be treated as a family member. It's what I always wanted. I am so thrilled that I'm going to be his wife, I think he's the most amazing person in the world, and I know that we are both so lucky to have found each other.
I really have tried to be a member of the family -- sending emails and photos, showing interest, trying to be a good person. My effort has waned as of late because I grew to believe my interest was not reciprocated. Maybe it is, and maybe I just don't see it. Maybe I'm not looking in the right places. I haven't given up. But I sure am frustrated.
It often happens that in conversation with him, I say things I never knew I knew, thought, or felt. It's one of the charms of being with him.
There are several reasons I keep this blog:
- It's an exercise in off-the-cuff expression, often of strong emotion or reaction. I've written about many personal topics here. That's no accident. It's not only mentally healthy for me, but it's a creative exercise in storytelling, which will help me onstage.
- It's a way to keep in touch with friends, many of whom I don't speak with on a regular basis. These are people who have sought me out and expressed interest in my everyday goings-on, but who have lives and can't email or call every day. That includes my best friend from high school, who has three kids and a husband and a teaching career, but who makes time to get in touch, check up on what's going on in my life, and ask me about it.
- It's an opportunity to broadcast events -- readings and such -- to a greater audience without sending out mass emails.
A year ago I had another blog. I shut it down and made it private after family members expressed objections about its content to Adam. I never invited them to read it. They found it, read it, got angry about it, and let him know.
I quickly realized I missed this open forum and began another one.
Shortly after I graduated from St. Mary's, I got my feathers in a flurry after reading a post on a former professor's blog. She didn't name me by name, but she definitely fired off a few unflattering salvos.
I now realize she had every right to do so. She didn't invite me to read her blog. I sought her out and did so willingly. I shouldn't at all have been surprised or pissed off at what she wrote. Ever read someone's diary and feel stung at what you find? It's a little like that.
I've never asked anyone to read this. This is for me first and for everyone else a distant second. Anyone who's found this blog has done exactly as I did with my former professor -- went out on the internet, looked me up, and continued to read it.
An addendum here. I really want to be part of Adam's family. I want to be treated as a family member. It's what I always wanted. I am so thrilled that I'm going to be his wife, I think he's the most amazing person in the world, and I know that we are both so lucky to have found each other.
I really have tried to be a member of the family -- sending emails and photos, showing interest, trying to be a good person. My effort has waned as of late because I grew to believe my interest was not reciprocated. Maybe it is, and maybe I just don't see it. Maybe I'm not looking in the right places. I haven't given up. But I sure am frustrated.
Wednesday, October 10, 2007
No guilt
There's this guy I've seen at Peoples a few times. It's clear he has few social skills. He's not good at dealing with the baristas, and it's just obvious he's awkward in everyday life.
Every time I've seen this douchebag, he kicks against the bench that lines the wall. Keep in mind that pretty much everyone in the cafe is sitting on this bench. We all get to feel the vibrations, and believe me, they're not good vibes.
A few minutes ago he was kicking, kicking, kicking. I said (louder than intended): "Jesus!"
His face turned red.
He packed up his shit.
He left.
Did I make him feel badly? Yep. Could I have been nicer? Sure. But I'm tired of clueless people who get the benefit of tolerance. Fuck you. Learn how to act in public or stay home.
Every time I've seen this douchebag, he kicks against the bench that lines the wall. Keep in mind that pretty much everyone in the cafe is sitting on this bench. We all get to feel the vibrations, and believe me, they're not good vibes.
A few minutes ago he was kicking, kicking, kicking. I said (louder than intended): "Jesus!"
His face turned red.
He packed up his shit.
He left.
Did I make him feel badly? Yep. Could I have been nicer? Sure. But I'm tired of clueless people who get the benefit of tolerance. Fuck you. Learn how to act in public or stay home.
Amy in the house
Acting class was awesome last night. I got all gussied up as my favorite smack addict, down to the tats, bruises, bloody cuts and scrapes, white-trash makeup and mole. I brought in a huge mommy-purse with everything Amy might need: beehive hairdo (represented by a black skein of yarn), cigarette, crochet/heroin needle, bendy cocaine straw, empty beer bottle, pipe for ... whatever.
Later, I heard Adam rummaging in the bathroom for an extended amount of time. When he came out, he said: "Did Amy beat up her husband?" He'd used my vampire paints to give himself a black eye. We got a few cockeyed looks at Koryo and more than one laugh at The Pub. Pictures to come.
Later, I heard Adam rummaging in the bathroom for an extended amount of time. When he came out, he said: "Did Amy beat up her husband?" He'd used my vampire paints to give himself a black eye. We got a few cockeyed looks at Koryo and more than one laugh at The Pub. Pictures to come.
How the fuck did I get on this mailing list?
Return to Center
presents...
~Awakening your Sacred Leader, a Mask-Making Experience~
Nov 2-3, 2007
Experience a weekend of exploration and creative expression. We will dive deep, accessing the face of your archetype, surfacing this emergent expression on a mask. Express and step into your most authentic and powerful self!
When:
Fri eve, 6:30pm-9:00pm: Opening and New Mask birthing process
Sat, 10:00am-5:00pm: Deep dive through a mini-breathwork, followed by the creative and expressive mask-making, integrative sharing and claiming ritual.
Investment: $100 (a non-ref. $25 deposit holds your space)
Group limited to 12 participants
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Rev. Dr. Martie Geltz, M.Div.
Mystical Activist
The Return to Center
return2center@comcast.net
office: 503 635 1629
Tuesday, October 9, 2007
Is there any wonder I have so much anger?
Is it a surprise that I go out looking for fights?
Is it a mystery why I'm equal parts shock and terror?
There's times I just want to go off on my father, just really let it rip, and then I try to remember I'm a grown-up and there's no need to be scared. Not any more, and maybe not ever.
Is it a surprise that I go out looking for fights?
Is it a mystery why I'm equal parts shock and terror?
There's times I just want to go off on my father, just really let it rip, and then I try to remember I'm a grown-up and there's no need to be scared. Not any more, and maybe not ever.
Support equal marriage rights!
Yesterday Joseph reminded me of my five minutes of lesbianism. I never did much about it, unless you count this, and I don't.
Since I love a man and not a woman, I'm allowed by society to have a ring on my finger and to make marriage plans. Let's hope this changes soon.
Since I love a man and not a woman, I'm allowed by society to have a ring on my finger and to make marriage plans. Let's hope this changes soon.
Monday, October 8, 2007
Weiner Takes All
Saw this tonight. Hard to tell if it was satire or straight, and in any event, it put a bad taste in my mouth about people who make their animals compete on their behalf.
Adam and I randomly walked through an open house in Berkeley yesterday.
"I could see us buying," I said after we left, "someday."
"When it makes sense," he said.
As we walked, I started babbling about how I'd need to be more stable -- no, not that, just have more savings, no, not exactly --
"I just don't want it to be yours," I said, "and I'd be sponging."
"We'll be married," he said. "It'll be ours."
"I could see us buying," I said after we left, "someday."
"When it makes sense," he said.
As we walked, I started babbling about how I'd need to be more stable -- no, not that, just have more savings, no, not exactly --
"I just don't want it to be yours," I said, "and I'd be sponging."
"We'll be married," he said. "It'll be ours."
Saturday, October 6, 2007
"Conservatives are such jokers"
It's sad to see a well-regarded columnist present such a one-sided, biased opinion in a major newspaper.
Krugman says:
So liberals never mock anybody who disagrees with them?
Anyone they see as less than them?
I'm more liberal than conservative. But really, that's beside the point here. It's more about hypocrisy -- an affliction that, unfortunately, is not partisan.
Krugman says:
Of course, minimizing and mocking the suffering of others is a natural strategy for political figures who advocate lower taxes on the rich and less help for the poor and unlucky.
So liberals never mock anybody who disagrees with them?
Anyone they see as less than them?
I'm more liberal than conservative. But really, that's beside the point here. It's more about hypocrisy -- an affliction that, unfortunately, is not partisan.
Friday, October 5, 2007
"If there were such a thing as an official borough cookie, Brooklyn's would be the black and white."
Is there any better reason to love the place than that?
Is there any better reason to love the place than that?
Thursday, October 4, 2007
New York IS going to the kids!
So I thought that the "Child Pride Parade" was facetious.
And it is.
But for how long?
Looks like West Village parents are pissed off about the S&M Street Festival slated for this Sunday -- and want community leaders removed for approving it.
I'm sorry?
In New York?
In the Village?
You can never entirely protect your kids from life, no matter where you live. However, if you're really looking to pull the protective bubble over their heads, move to where I grew up. No S&M fests over there, just a bunch of repressed mommies and some daddies who diddle their secretaries.
But you're looking to change goddamned Greenwich Village to provide a sanitized zone for your kids? Isn't that a little naive and -- dare I say it? -- entitled?
What would these parents do if the scary S&M leather men petitioned their community leaders to make the Village a kid-free zone? They'd freak out, that's what. But it's okay for them to say: Sorry, leather folk, take it to San Francisco ... where we're still allowed by the parental powers that be to have raunchy street fairs. It must really suck for these guys to work hard at coming out -- because you know many of them have had to struggle with their identity -- only for other peoples' parents, not even their own, to tell them they're sick and wrong and not fit for young eyes.
Boy, are those parents going to be pissed when little Jane or Johnny grows up to be a big, whip-wielding, flaming queer.
Maybe I'm biased because of how I grew up: My needs were met, I was fed and clothed and educated, and my parents did more than their fair share of running around to haul me to Girl Scouts and soccer practice. But they did not shield me from reality. I heard cursing, smelled cigarette smoke, and was exposed to different ways of living and varying opinions. I thank them for that. It made me the person I am today.
Anyway, Gothamist says it better than I could:
And it is.
But for how long?
Looks like West Village parents are pissed off about the S&M Street Festival slated for this Sunday -- and want community leaders removed for approving it.
I'm sorry?
In New York?
In the Village?
You can never entirely protect your kids from life, no matter where you live. However, if you're really looking to pull the protective bubble over their heads, move to where I grew up. No S&M fests over there, just a bunch of repressed mommies and some daddies who diddle their secretaries.
But you're looking to change goddamned Greenwich Village to provide a sanitized zone for your kids? Isn't that a little naive and -- dare I say it? -- entitled?
What would these parents do if the scary S&M leather men petitioned their community leaders to make the Village a kid-free zone? They'd freak out, that's what. But it's okay for them to say: Sorry, leather folk, take it to San Francisco ... where we're still allowed by the parental powers that be to have raunchy street fairs. It must really suck for these guys to work hard at coming out -- because you know many of them have had to struggle with their identity -- only for other peoples' parents, not even their own, to tell them they're sick and wrong and not fit for young eyes.
Boy, are those parents going to be pissed when little Jane or Johnny grows up to be a big, whip-wielding, flaming queer.
Maybe I'm biased because of how I grew up: My needs were met, I was fed and clothed and educated, and my parents did more than their fair share of running around to haul me to Girl Scouts and soccer practice. But they did not shield me from reality. I heard cursing, smelled cigarette smoke, and was exposed to different ways of living and varying opinions. I thank them for that. It made me the person I am today.
Anyway, Gothamist says it better than I could:
What exactly are ma and pa shielding their kids eyes from? Women will be going topless, and the men are only required to wear a two-inch strip of leather to cover their backsides...but to see the flogging and rope-bondage demonstrations, you're gonna have to pay up. Seriously, it's $5 -- but don't fret parents, they're carding for that one.While the families question the fest, this is New York, and it's just a celebration of the diversity of the neighborhood -- maybe they could take their kids to a movie while it's going on.
Late last night after last night's performance, I turned to Adam in bed.
"Do you think I can make it?" I asked.
"You can do anything," he said.
"Do you think I can make it?" I asked.
"You can do anything," he said.
Wednesday, October 3, 2007
I got tagged!
Irreverent Freelancer has nailed me for "The Random 8 Meme: Tagged With My Pants Down!"
The rules of this tag:
1. Link to your tagger and post these rules.
2. List eight (8) random facts about yourself.
3. Tag eight people at the end of your post and list their names (linking to them).
4. Let them know they’ve been tagged by leaving them a comment on their blogs.
* I don't even think I know eight bloggers ... I'll just tag as many as I can! I'm sorry for bending the rules, Kathy! *
8 random facts about me:
1) I was born in New York City, spent the first four years of my life in East Lyme, Connecticut, and grew up in San Diego.
2) I have had two pets: a mutt named Sandy and an orange tabby named Oliver, both of whom I'm going to talk about tonight.
3) I got engaged to Adam Sandler onstage in New York City.
4) For nearly half a year, I lived in a town that specializes in Semtex and horse-racing.
5) I consider my younger brother one of my best friends. You'd almost never know that I was furious when my mother became pregnant with him. When he was born, I nicknamed him the Accident of Birth Control. He loves that nickname.
6) While traveling in Amsterdam at 26 years old, I smoked the requisite weed at a place called Cheech 'n Chong's. I orbited the ceiling for about three hours and then staggered out to get the best hamburger of my life. I seriously think that shit was soaked in something.
7) I'm not fluent in any foreign language, but I can curse in Spanish, French, Czech, and Yiddish.
8) I am not for everyone. I am not for most people. If I knew someone like myself, I may or may not even like that person. I am loudmouthed, bullheaded, and tragically opinionated. Fortunately, I'm funny, loyal, and sincere, which can sometimes make up for my flaws.
I now tag Adam and Tracy for this one.
The rules of this tag:
1. Link to your tagger and post these rules.
2. List eight (8) random facts about yourself.
3. Tag eight people at the end of your post and list their names (linking to them).
4. Let them know they’ve been tagged by leaving them a comment on their blogs.
* I don't even think I know eight bloggers ... I'll just tag as many as I can! I'm sorry for bending the rules, Kathy! *
8 random facts about me:
1) I was born in New York City, spent the first four years of my life in East Lyme, Connecticut, and grew up in San Diego.
2) I have had two pets: a mutt named Sandy and an orange tabby named Oliver, both of whom I'm going to talk about tonight.
3) I got engaged to Adam Sandler onstage in New York City.
4) For nearly half a year, I lived in a town that specializes in Semtex and horse-racing.
5) I consider my younger brother one of my best friends. You'd almost never know that I was furious when my mother became pregnant with him. When he was born, I nicknamed him the Accident of Birth Control. He loves that nickname.
6) While traveling in Amsterdam at 26 years old, I smoked the requisite weed at a place called Cheech 'n Chong's. I orbited the ceiling for about three hours and then staggered out to get the best hamburger of my life. I seriously think that shit was soaked in something.
7) I'm not fluent in any foreign language, but I can curse in Spanish, French, Czech, and Yiddish.
8) I am not for everyone. I am not for most people. If I knew someone like myself, I may or may not even like that person. I am loudmouthed, bullheaded, and tragically opinionated. Fortunately, I'm funny, loyal, and sincere, which can sometimes make up for my flaws.
I now tag Adam and Tracy for this one.
Tuesday, October 2, 2007
Long ago, I wrote poetry. Quite a bit. This poem has got to be six or seven years old, but I still like it.
Hello, My Name Is
We’ve met before.
Does God recycle souls?
We go back
beyond Jesus’ boyhood,
back in the day
when He hung out
instead of on
the cross.
You, sulking in the corner
Can you spare a dime?
Can you spare some time?
Can you pay
some mind?
I’m be-badged and it tells a story,
some story,
maybe even mine.
But still I’m wondering
if we’ve met before
when Elizabeth Taylor was young
when only the rich could fly
when the Savior was in boot camp.
We watched each other then,
nodding warily over crossed swords.
I know you.
Introduce yourself.
Shelters, not owners?
I found this article very interesting. Reserved the book at the B'kly library.
Basically, this book says: It's the shelters, stupid. That's why animals are dying. I'm interested to read his perspective. I'm also going to go back next week and volunteer at the Humane Society because no matter whose fault it is, these animals need some love.
Basically, this book says: It's the shelters, stupid. That's why animals are dying. I'm interested to read his perspective. I'm also going to go back next week and volunteer at the Humane Society because no matter whose fault it is, these animals need some love.
Monday, October 1, 2007
This is a really pathetic, really thin article. The rise and fall of Brooklyn is based on the U-Haul doings of a few dimwitted celebrities? Come on.
And more
Got another scathing email from Becky O'Malley, the Berkeley Daily Planet editor-in-chief.
Here is the original text of the email I'd written to her -- keep in mind, by the way, that I wrote this as a letter to the editor, a place where readers are supposedly free to criticize as they see fit:
Here is the original text of the email I'd written to her -- keep in mind, by the way, that I wrote this as a letter to the editor, a place where readers are supposedly free to criticize as they see fit:
"Editor, Daily Planet:
This is with regard to Becky O'Malley's opinion piece ("Bashing the Poor is Back in Style", 9/28/07).
Becky, you'll forgive me, but what the hell are you getting at? Let's break down your column:
- You watch the birds. Hummingbirds. Chickadees too. Pretty, pretty birds.
- You read the New Yorker. You're not pleased with the hoity-toity nature of both writing and subject.
- You turn back to the Stellar's jays.
- You attempt an epiphany: "And there's a political lesson to be learned too. Solutions to perceived problems, come in cycles just as hemlines do."
- You insert some cynical pap about what will and will not be done about the city's homeless.
- You conclude with a giant sigh.
This column was disorganized and cryptic. What is it you're trying to tell us, and can you just distill it down? If not, please just occupy yourself with watching the birds.
Allison Landa
2214 1/2 Grant Street
Berkeley, CA 94703
(510) 654-6512"
Here is (hopefully) the last exchange. This is a liberal hippie grandmother? Someone who absolutely cannot tolerate dissent -- to the point where she has to go on the attack when she gets critiqued? No wonder I fucking hate Berkeley sometimes.
Here is (hopefully) the last exchange. This is a liberal hippie grandmother? Someone who absolutely cannot tolerate dissent -- to the point where she has to go on the attack when she gets critiqued? No wonder I fucking hate Berkeley sometimes.
----- Original Message -----
From: Allison Landa
Sent: Monday, October 01, 2007 1:19 PM
Subject: Re: Letter to the editor
Okay, I'm going to ignore that. What the hell does it matter where I got my masters degree?
One would think a professional organization that accepts (welcomes?) letters to the editor would not take such offense. Sorry that's not the case with my hometown newspaper.
Case closed.
----- Original Message -----To: Allison LandaSent: Monday, October 01, 2007 1:12 PMSubject: Re: Letter to the editorGoogled you up, saw the MFA in Creative Writing from St. Mary's--that explains it all. Not your fault. The poor old Christian Brothers never could teach writing, though they did used to be able to teach manners. Are there any of them left there any more? You should have gone to USF-- whatever the Jesuits did in the bedroom, they turned out decent writers.
Can Becky O'Malley take criticism?
Apparently not. I wrote her a fairly critical letter regarding this column and got back the terse response: "Words of how many syllables can you parse"?
Hm. Sensitive much, Beck? Your anti-semitic leanings got you a bit crabby? Or maybe you're still smarting from the complete dumb-assery of the Daily Planet era preceding yours. Have a Tofurkey and relax, sweetheart.
Hm. Sensitive much, Beck? Your anti-semitic leanings got you a bit crabby? Or maybe you're still smarting from the complete dumb-assery of the Daily Planet era preceding yours. Have a Tofurkey and relax, sweetheart.
"I don’t know about the milk issue, but giving extra time on exams for these conditions is problematic for two reasons: 1- Law school exams are essentially a race against the clock. With enough time, anyone can get all the answers, but we only get 3 hours. Exams are graded on a strict curve, so the extra time gives ADD person an easy A while taking an A from someone who deserves it. 2- Clients are harmed - will my ADD lawyer get extra time to file a motion? Will my ADD doctor get more time to remove my appendix before it bursts? These people should get a big asterisk on their license so we can know who to avoid. Comment by - September 27, 2007 at 10:03 am"
On the breastfeeding med student who needed more time to take her test.
On the breastfeeding med student who needed more time to take her test.
They Might Be A Great Show
Actually, They Might Be Giants indeed were. I wasn't crazy about the two encores (don't get me to clap and yell for you, just come out and fuckin play) or the fact that you really can't sit down at the Fillmore (otherwise an excellent venue), but the guys were great.
Liked John Linnell's old NYT op-ed after being named a People Magazine "beautiful person":
I'm a middle-aged accordion player, and inspecting myself just now I see that I look tired and badly need a haircut. So you can imagine my confusion when I got a call last week from the manager of my band telling me that my name had turned up in People magazine's on-line poll of the most beautiful people of 1998.
Nice!
Liked John Linnell's old NYT op-ed after being named a People Magazine "beautiful person":
I'm a middle-aged accordion player, and inspecting myself just now I see that I look tired and badly need a haircut. So you can imagine my confusion when I got a call last week from the manager of my band telling me that my name had turned up in People magazine's on-line poll of the most beautiful people of 1998.
Nice!
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