Sunday, September 28, 2003

split second in time

i love my life right now. sure, there are still parts that need improvement. enhancement. upgrading. finetuning. but tonight, after dinner, sipping a glass of wine, i was overcome with the sentiment: i love my fucking life.

something i've been thinking about: the drive to see the mediocre movie. tonight i went to see a completely predictable and cliche-sauteed movie. i knew what it was beforehand. i read the reviews. i didn't care. i wanted to be bathed in the italian sun too. it was predictable, it was scenic, it was dotted with feel-good affirmations. in short, it was indulgent. but i ask you: what is the difference between indulging in the romantic fantasy and indulging in the daily bits of chocolate, the extra cup of coffee with the extra dose of cream, or the filet when there is no good occasion? we indulge. i think it is ironic to be embarrassed. or to judge people for this.

meanwhile, i think my review of the movie would be much the same as everyone else's: too good to be true. too scenic. too predictable. too chickflick. i don't care.

maybe i just want a life founded on all the good cliches.

what did i do this weekend? it was chockful yet not a lot "got done." maybe those are the best weekends. i think one of my goals is The Agenda Free Weekend. which is ironic? or is it just conflicting?

when does a conflict become a hypocracy?
what is the largest song bird?
what gets you excited every morning?
what makes you jump out of bed?

Friday, September 26, 2003


kurt: tricia makes a lot of crap up
tricia: does that mean that you are just a figment of my imagination?
open to others and don't compartmentalize

The approach to working with others that I would like to advocate is one in which spontaneity and humanness are extended to others, so that we can open to others and not compartmentalize our understanding of them. This means working first of all with our natural capacity for warmth....When you work in this way with others, it is very powerful. When someone begins to feel that he or she is not being pigeonholed and that there is some genuine connection taking place between the two of you, then that person begins to let go. She begins to explore you and you begin to explore her. Some kind of unspoken friendship begins to develop.

— chogyam trungpa

imagine if we could treat others like this all the time or if others treated us like this -- bosses, coworkers, old friends, family members... it'd be amazing.

Wednesday, September 24, 2003

on why i love mark morford, part III

"It will be just the second time Crayola has retired colors; the crayon maker discontinued eight colors in 1990, including more controversial colors such as "Putrid Suicide Green," "Bullet Wound Purple," "Ultraconservative Kentucky Homophobe Pink," "Inbred Hillbillie Piss Yellow," "East Texan Meat-Gut Morbidly Obese Varicose Vein Blue," "Gushing Painful Totally Bitchy Don't You Freakin' Touch Me You Freakin' Jerk Menstrual Period Fusia," and "Tongue."
(read the real article)

Monday, September 22, 2003


kurt: did you talk to her yet?
mar: no. non. nyet. nein.
kurt: nine what?

Saturday, September 20, 2003

betting on mercury

a rolling stone gathers no moss. a moving mar gets out of a rut. thank gawd. saturday. mercury moving straight again after a month of retro. which is good. i need some forward direction to help me unpack and get things going again.

last night was my first night going back to the house in my new neighborly capacity. dan and i mosied over after watching once upon a time in mexico (with kb and bret) (over the top parody or excuse for gratuitous violence?). who was there to welcome us back with literal open arms but one jenn b.n.e. in her new pad within the pad (she's moving into 7). jenn's one you wanna watch cuz you know the future will be interesting.

that is a trait she shares with raebean.

instead of trying to write anything interesting i will simply offer up some tidbits.

saturdays on kcbx is like a good radio buffet. currently listening to the minstrel song show. i wish this was syndicated so you all could enjoy.

commando garage sale deployment morning. chief troops made up of general kallal and petty officer figueroa. hermetically sealed glass jars (of various shapes), pepper grinder, cutting board, shelf organizer and jars for spices. it'll be baby steps to rounding out the apartment, but the hunting for the goods is a fun process.

tom called in the middle of it all. he joined for a couple of critical missions, an exploratory rendez of the farmer's market and then the eating of the breakfast at linnaea's. linnaea's saturday and sunday mornings is like a greatest hits album: ryan, jenn, carrie, jason, erik... how can you pass that up? and they're serving breakie til one or two. highfives shared by all the patrons for the sheer luck of such late deliciousness.

today: tackling the boxes. putting things away. maybe a movie? and then topping it all off for the last gig of velvet jones (patrick's big band is splitting up). must not miss it. tomorrow = more of the same with an interjection of bruch with jim and ana and shane c., our paso robles contingency.

Friday, September 19, 2003


darin: people say me and my brother look alike, but he's 6'4" and 220. not skinny at all.
emdot: but you have the same coloring, right?
darin: well, yeah, we're both white and pasty.
it's been a whirl wind of a week
so much for a slow september

birthday. family gathering. moving. neil young. so much for things going slow while mercury is in retrograde.

you know you are living in the right place when you sleep like a baby through the nights. my new place is incredibly comfortable despite the unpacked boxes and lack of furniture. my kitchen is stocked (and i've already fed friends twice) and most of my clothes are put away. i can find my toothbrush.

i take all of this as a very good sign.

my mom wondered how it is that some people can move and be unpacked that very same day. those must be the people who sorted through their stuff while they packed. me, i just brought it all. the sorting is happening now. there is a garage sale in the future and if not that, a pleasant stocking of the Free Pile over at the 'stab. it's like refreshing the lake with trout. i'll make their fishing fun and fruitful.

WARNING: Highly organized tidbit that might taint your view of me

Stocking the pantry was incredibly fun and either you will agree that it would be a really fun idea or you will roll your eyes at my patheticness. I've gotten both responses so far. And despite the eye roll and the psychological pain and suffering it has caused me (not to mention the effort and eye strain of the eye roller) I will share this information with you and all the voyeuristic world.

I found a pantry-stocking list in several of my cookbooks. I actually chose the the more low-brow list (c'mon, she recommends buying taco shells cough cough and as a respectable Californian and Woman of Color [insert more coughing here] I have to call foul on the premade taco shells; I definitely go with the fresh tortillas) because it seemed like the more accessible and usable list to me. You can use the list too.

The reason for this is because somewhere along the line in my human development I missed the lesson on pantry cooking. Ask any of my exboyfriends (oh god, that is a sentence that never needs to appear in any publication, whether a blog or an at-home secret diary). I never learned how to whip something up from the things that happened to be on hand. I'm a much better restaurant orderer. I am a whiz with a menu. You should see me, even, standing in line at a cafe parsing out the available muchies from a list on a chalk board -- I'm telling you I'm damn good. Damn good. That skill I've aced.

But now it is time to conquer the pantry cooking. And I plan to do so before 2004 comes a knocking on the front door.

But one word about the pantry. I feel guilty using that word. Cubby. Cubby is more like it, though my space has quadruplized times ten. So I will say "pantry" and I want you to know it is more of a cubby so that when you come to visit you don't mock me for my propensity for exaggeration.

First Dinner: Salmon Chowder, Salad, Wine and little chocolatey cookies. Recipe to follow some time this weekend.

Friday, September 12, 2003


kristin: you have the plate and the spoon.
bret: and i have the fingers and the mouth.

Wednesday, September 10, 2003


mar: you know what sounds good right now? cake.
mark: cake? there's cake? where?
mar: there's no cake, it just sounds good.
mark: cake tease!
what a fun morning

  • listening to stevie wonder. perfect beautiful morning get yer groove on music.
  • prime ticket to see niel young at the county bowl next wednesday — late birthday present from daniel-j.
  • friend back from prague and i got a really cool children's book of a famous praha folktale. totally my kind o' thing.
  • awesome inspiring words from mark morford. for me it is easy to look past his incindiary lambasts and just go for the juicy real stuff. i would love to meet that guy in real life sometime.
  • heartyhugworthy email from rebel con cause. I MISS THAT GIRL.
  • "Panama is RAW DOG style" — read JJ's take.
  • three cups of coffee. heh.

i'm beginning my move in roughly 30 hours. wow. end of an era. beginning of something new. actually everything seems new. feels new. i told my list that my new lease on an apartment has turned into a new lease on life.

i had a really amazing weekend (despite the blown out tire). my family — sometimes i just don't know how i lucked into this incredibly group of people.

my aunt and i spent a few good hours furniture and kitchen shopping. i wasn't going to buy anything. i want to make every dollar count — not to be frugal, but to just be smart. i don't want to buy anything i don't need. i don't need to cart unneeded stuff around with me. so i was just looking. but stella gave me a friendly push that i probably needed. i left with a new kitchen table, livingroom chair and footstool, dishes, flatware, and large great big bulbous wine glasses for any type of celebration that might come knocking at my door.
on why i love mark morford, part 2
More than Total Recall...

Recall the notion, in short, that if you have the gall to believe that peace and nonviolence and independent thought and personal spiritual questing and divine open-mouthed orgasms are the most patriotic notions of all, well, you do not belong in this fine country. Recall redneck thick-necked homophobic myopia.

Recall that stale recurring thought pattern. Recall that noxious diet, that sour road rage, that odious and stagnant treatment of your lover, wherein you have somehow forgotten the power of her eyes and the smell of her skin or the way he looks when he makes you dinner and laughs at sitcoms and sings old Def Leppard songs in the shower.

This is all within your power. This is all within your purview. They want you to think it's not, that you are weak and trembly and that terrorism is ever ready to swoop in and eat your children and rearrange all the stations on your car stereo. They want you to believe you are powerless and small. This is, of course, utter BS. Your vote counts, perhaps more than it ever has.

What, you want me to tell you to vote no on the recall, yes on Bustamante, e-mail your senator, complain to management? As if. That ain't the half of it.

Recall fear. Vote now to kiss with everything you've got, love deep, fuck with full intent, feel the divine's hot breath on your skin at every possible moment, buy the best wine you can afford, read your ass off, hunker down, grit your teeth, scream your joy.

There. See? Politics isn't so bad, after all.

(this is just a snippet... you can read the whole thing on

Monday, September 08, 2003

trouble on the 405

i got a late start home last night -- arrival time somewhere around midnight. hit l.a. around 8:30. and something hit my tire around that time too. i thought i just hit something. something i couldn't see in the road. i felt my car go up and over it quickly. and then my steering went weird -- this is all going fairly fast as you do when on the la freeways. and then my steering would barely go at all and something was burning.

so many things were lucky. that i blew out a front tire instead or a back. that all the cars let me get over and on to the closest offramp. that the exit was in a decent neighborhood. that driving as far as i did didn't ruin the rim. that AAA would honor my dad's card (note to self: get own card). that a lit am/pm minimart was right there. i might have a guardian angel.

turns out it wasn't just me. there were at least six of us that blew tires in that section all at about the same time. definitely the work of the Axis of Evil (keep your eyes peeled for a presidential address on this, i am sure. or at the very least something from tom ridge). some guy pulled in right after me with a blown tire, too. three more on the 405 itself and then as the AAA guy was leaving he got yet another call of another woman who'd been able to pull off same as me.

but without another spare tire and with it being dark and with me still needing to drive three more hours i had to turn around. this morning i will get another new tire for the front, and oldish right tire will be delegated to spare and i will be on my merry way.

i really must be a ditz, though, when it comes to car repair as the AAA guy (Oscar) rolled his eyes at me I swear to god a minimum of five times. "cut me some slack here, Oscar," i said. "i'm a little rattled."

and it's not that getting a flat is so rattling. but doing so in the fast lane and it being dark and being somewhere unfamiliar and trying to figure out if i should just keep driving north was a recipe for Rattle a la Mode. Or a la Mar.

"do NOT drive without getting a spare," said Oscar. and my dad. so it was turnaround city.

this morning i showed off the flat to my dad and aunt. i thought maybe it wasn't so bad — maybe it could be fixed?

"uh, mar," says aunt stella, "this goes all the way through and it's in the tread. this is bad."

so much for that.

so the mystery remains: what caused so many flats? and is it cleared up for my drive home? i think through that stretch of the 405 i'll be driving right lane all the way.

Thursday, September 04, 2003

entering my prime

Today's birthday (September 5). Love fills your life this year, which is both a challenge and a joy. This month, you'll re-evaluate your lifestyle and clarify your goals. The future is unlocked with a few key friendships and business connections. Be open to seeing things the way a Gemini or Pisces does. Quickly move on opportunities to improve your financial standing In October. Your lucky numbers are: 45, 31, 29, 48 and 2.
Virgo (Aug. 23-Sept. 22). Something rare and lucky happens: The problem you've ignored or neglected will never come back to haunt you (unless you yourself can't let it go). People who are trying to change their residence will find their dream pad.

as of tomorrow (or a couple of hours) i will be in my prime (number, that is). i'll let all y'all speculate as to which prime number it is. but prime it is.

tomorrow... good lord, in typical marya fashion i am leaving everything last minute and open ended. there might be a hike up bishops. there might be breakfast at linnaea's. or maybe i'll mosey into baywood to have little bayside treat at the very cool coffee shop. either way i'm spending most of the day with my mom. probably meandering up to big sur. nepenthe. henry miller library. et cetera.

next day it is jump in the car and drive to oc to see dad, janet, my fabulous southwestern tortilla making grandma and equally fabulous southwestern art making aunt estella.

the girls took me to lunch today for pre-prime-number festivities at novo. the coolest presents. special earrings and the four colorful glasses i innocently (i swear i swear) showed to kristin earlier in the week. very thoughtful.

i have this hat. i wear it a lot. kinda skull cap and it used to have a hideous nike swoosh right across the front. so i wore it in the back. one year for halloween i sewed a red felt heart over the swoosh. funny what a little red felt will do. people comment on it constantly. "oh the girl with the heart hat." or today, the guy who rushed out of the restaurant where he was working to say,

"I have to tell you i love your hat."

After thanking the very nice restaurant man with excellent taste I said back to the girls, as we continued down the sidewalk, "I have to wear this hat more often."

"He said he loved your hat, not you in the hat!" said Robin.

"I think he just said I love you," I grinned.

I'm wearing this hat all weekend.

Wednesday, September 03, 2003

i broke the power cord to my ibook rzzl frzzl which meant no computer for me for the 3day weekend — how awesome! i have no selfcontrol, so can't selfregulate computer time. so... cold turkey meant wow get so much done and see so many people and write real mail.

late summer in san luis is truly a slice of flat out heaven.

radio busted forth this weekend. besides public radio, i have not had a consistantly decent radio station to listen to for what feels like years (no offense kcpr-ers) -- or so it seemed. turned into KOTR (for years the static kept me away, but reception was great this weekend) and it kicked ass. new music poured forth mixed in with a little stevie here and a little split enz there.

this all equates to three new cd purchases: kings of leon. o cracker where art thou. and the wind by warren zevon. i heard the interview on npr with his son and it had me choking back tears for ten minutes. talk about raw and being in the moment and making the most of the last of your life. wow.