The Cable Guy & The Foghorn Toast
unrelated stories

Today I worked from home, waiting for the cable guy. Troubleshooting client problems without a modem to even see what he was talking about... I walked him through the backend by memory. We got it all squared away with help from Shawn and ancillary help from Tiss, Hoov, and Sir Chest. Thanks guys.

The cable guy finally got here and I had to laugh. While they were making sure that my settings were right for the internet, the Cable Guy had the tv on in the background and I found it most annoying. I wonder, how many people order cable and then ask for the tv to be promptly turned off? [insert chagrin look]. Yet, I am addicted to S&TC and would go down to the corner to score if that was what it would take. But instead all I gotta do is one call to my dealer, the Cable Guy, and the deal is good as done.

An speekina addictions...

Great book reading right now, via Stephen in Santa Cruz who passed on The Frozen Addicts. He'd given it to me a month ago, but in my agitated state of unrest (read disorganized and flummoxed) I had forgotten to read it. I was reminded, not so bluntly, to get my butt in gear. So the gear's been butted and the book is really good. Plus I'm relearning all kinds of terms from my junior college biology class. Neuropeptide. Dendrill. Polyphenalmarzipan. Etc.

FOGHORN/FOGPORN TOAST
aka, Patty's last toast

Every Monday night at ye ol' Spike's brew pub is Foghorn night.

For those not in the know, Foghorn is a deliciously dark yet fruity beer that has so much alcohol content they cannot call it beer and instead is called Barleywine.

I love barleywine.

It turns out that Spike's in my little ol' cowpoke of a hometown is the number one seller of Foghorn in California. Nope, not just California, but the West Coast. And no no my friends, not just the West Coast but East of the Mississippi. (Number two in the nation, in fact, second only behind some barleywinepushing-speakeasy in NYC, but I digress.)

Patty (that's actually Patricia to you and me) began the Foghorn toast 45 weeks ago. I'm not sure exactly how the revelries began, as I am a latecomer to all the brouhaha. But every Monday night at nine you were invited to write your own toast (to Foghorn). Patty climbed ontoppa the bar and told everyone to shut the fuck up as she read each toast out load. Glasses were raised and hoots and hollers were heard and more Foghorn was poured and everyone left happy.

The last Monday of the Month was designated Fogporn with toasts to match.

Tonight was Patty's last night (and the last night of the month — ahem) at the Foghorn Toast helm as she is moving, tomorrow, to the City by the Bay. The place was packed and rockin' and most showed up dressed to thrill, Fogporn in mind.

Too bad Patty's leaving. I mean, good for her and all, but too bad for us and too bad for Spikes and too bad for SLO Town. That girl is one of kind, and so, we lift our glasses to toast to San Francisco, new home of the Foghorn Toastette.

Me, I stayed as long as I could, which was 25 minutes longer than I said I would... but my addiction called and I had to high-tail it outta there and do that Marathon-Olympic-style race walk in mid-height-heels to get home in time for you-know-what. Okay, maybe that was a slight exaggeration but I made it from Spikes (lower-downtown) to the railroad district in less than ten minutes.

It was worth it all around. All of it.

NEXT UP: STAY TUNED: where in the world in emdot living??? film at 11.

(shouts out to KB and Sir Bret -- who are, as I type, high in the sky going southward heading for the land of sheep and greenery.)

overheard

ben: what is going on?! everyone is crying!!
kristin: carrie just got the call, everything is fine!
ben: then why are you crying?
kristin: because everything is okay.
ben: WOMEN!!

carrie had a hard week with iffy pregnancy test results... it took over a week to find out. and today she got the call and she has one happy healthy baby percolating in her tummy. :)

overheard

marya: hey, did that meeting just get pushed out from two minutes late to ten minutes from now?
jason: yep. two to ten in 4.8 seconds.

the great thing about having a phone conference meetiing pushed out a few minutes is sitting in the conference room listening to morning becomes eclectic (hoping to catch some of that E/eels interview) in the interim.

fun chitchatty email fest on dw on the blessings and the cult of nalgene.

overheard

marya: but she had some charisma.
bret: charisma? yes. talent? no and [turns to address phantom girl who is not present], please don't sing aretha.

what i dig about working with bret: five minute breaks where we just free associate all the music that happens to be on our minds or that come up in our quick conversations. big time or local.

overheard

tricia: you know that blog post you did about OOO? This entire time I was here I didn't get it -- I thought it was Ooooooh, like Ooooooooooooh Alex or Ooooooooooooooh Ben.

little gifts

what more could you ask for then time. when you get right down to it, time is all we have. cliche... okay... true cliche. but things only become cliche because they are true for everybody.

kb and i mosied through lunch. lunch and watch-time shopping. she and HB leave for new zealand and australia in a mere three/four days. pink watch with an alarm and then lunch at big sky. and then stroll down the alley way to linnaeas where a very beaming, pink-haired raelene bounded out to hug and greet us.

the bean is out from newyawkcity. she is heaven personified. not starched. not proper. not cotten clouds. no. she is beaming and animated and pink and glowing.

hours upon hours later a group of us gathered in the kitchen for a chic dinner of mashed potatoes, pizza, watermelon, shiraz/merlot/cab, ale, and scoops of ice cream. but really we were just looking for bites of raelene's little apple.

what we got: stories of meetings and craig's list; foam and no mayo; sherrying; ezpei; ring ceremonies; too much matthewbarney; talks of wizard's second wind and chen's pond and pink rooms; we met baharek who is a little angel unto herself.

what we really got was time with our favorite soontobesomeonewe'llsay we knew her when.

and finally
little snippet of phone call goodness from la rebel con cause. our lass from mass. those of you who know me well, welly know i am not a phone gal. but calls from reb are to answered. and again it just comes down to time. and sharing. timesharing. shimetaring. tisharming. disarming. alarming. and charming.

it's late! time for bed!

overheard

kevin: ryan is mocking harry potter!
ryan: it's for five year olds.
marya: how would you know?
jim: because he's only four.

overheard

at my company you often get email with the subject line of [person's name] OOO which means "out of office." nice little notes to let us know when people are visiting clients or home sick.

chester sent an email with a subject line of "OMM"

chester: I will be Out of My Mind and unreachable for the rest of the day.
marya: And that is different how?
chester: It isn't. I just figured the new folks needed to know.

r & r

mizz sweetdogk does a good job of relating our very fun and completely relaxing friday night. it was so good to just chill. and laugh. and consume wine. in that order. friends are very important. not in that order. put that to the top of the list.

i'm in irvine. which means more fun and complete relaxation, but in more luxurious surroundings. it's not that it is so shi-shi, but that it is so effortlessly relaxing and comfortable. there is quite a lot to be said fine cotton sheets, plush carpeting, and high-definition + one-million-stations-to-choose-from loafing around. i'm all for it. i tell ya. the drive is completely worth it. and it's been nice to get a lot more dad-and-janet quality time. it's the little things.

a song of mar
I think Wordsworth might have been talking about something else... but it does seem like a familiar story...

The world is too much with us; late and soon,
Getting and spending, we lay waste our powers;
Little we see in Nature that is ours;
We have given our hearts away, a sordid boon!
This Sea that bares her bosom to the moon,
The winds that will be howling at all hours,
And are up-gathered now like sleeping flowers,
For this, for everything, we are out of tune;
[snipped the rest]
- wordsworth

now playing on repeat

the be good tanyas: only in the past

i like it that it sounds like "my paws are not open, they're closed, they're closed." this song is sweet and forlorny. melancholy summertime reminiscing. i love that.

i hope they play live oak next year.

morning art post

start your morning right. before putting your proverbial nose to the proverbial grindstone, take a few minutes and just let your computer be your gallery.

witold riedel: dyptichs
witold riedel: 600 X 250
clandestina: trips (12)

overheard

tissa: i think that guy did not give me decaf last night
marya: really? i was out like a light
tissa: yeah, but i don't drink caffeine after 12 noon. just like alcohol.

rebel yell
a letter back from our favorite Mass Lass

Hey guys, I just wanted to thank you all for such a great weekend. I really needed it. Though I am absolutely pooped right now, I went to bed at two am this morning, all of my luggage got left in S.L.O. (how hard is it to mess that one up?and I went to work this morning at five thirty. So, how do you think I am doing? Plus, I am operating moving vehicles! I loved all the schnuggles we shared, new pals we met, heart to hearts we had, yummy pot luck, sleep overs with girls(pillow fights in our panties included!), morning wood, gangareen (is that how you spell it?) Making you guys leave at the airport cause I thought I was going to burst. Lots of tears, lots of love, a little bonus time with Ana and Jimolicious during our SBP to LAX leg., airline ass, tapeworms, snorkles and scuba gear and chasing off the scary man who lives in the porta potty,Room number one but just bigger, vegan mud pie, wizzy licking paint......
I love all of you like you were my own family. Thank you so much for including me in your beautiful circles, you are all absolutely amazing souls.

I love you all,

Rebel

bits and pieces

back from live oak and it was good. actually... i think all i really needed was a camping trip with my friends. relaxing under a beautiful oak overlooking a dry river bed. warm days with light breeze. birds singing in the morning. mojitos in the afternoon. little sips of tequila in the chilly evenings watching/listening to great bands. dancing our booties off. it's what summer is all about i tell you.

rebel came from massachusets for the festival. that girl is a warm-summer-afternoon -with- light-breeze-and-bird's-chirping all by herself. she could be our own live oak. (shout out to jeffrey, her sweet boyfriend back on the least coast: next time you must come out, too; please promise us).

overheards
ooooooooooh, there were some good ones! but they are all dirty. so remind me next time you see me and i will tell you in person and you can giggle and/or chuckle (as your personality dictates) to your hearts content.

little snippets of goodness
cabaret diosa
you gotta see them live — trust me. meanwhile, listen to the tunes and read the folklore. they were amazing.

sean ardoin & zydecool
for when you get yer dancing shoes on

the gourds
twangy gangsta goodness

hating blogger

must tell you so i can get it out of my system: new blogger interface sucks. hugely.

overheard

kurt: marya micole!
marya: what is your middle name?
kurt: i'm not telling!
marya: kurt kitten!
kurt: it's adam! it's adam!

A BLANKET TO WRAP YOURSELF UP IN

• that's so amazing (michelle shocked)
  this song gets me every single time. the audio link is not great quality, but is worth the click. i promise.
  
  
• clandestina: trips: 12 (a year of clandestina; a year of trips)
  
  
• winged migration
  

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-

my mom and i went to see winged migration tonight. i can't wait until this wins an academy award next year. (smile). yeah, i'm calling it early. so we went, and friends dan, heather, and justin were there too. we sat in a row of rapt silence. a flock of friends. we migrated home afterwards (homosapiens: 12 block migration every friday night) and tossed out our favorite parts, our favorite birds, the best feathers, the best this the best that.

the movie was tragic as well. oil spills, bulldozers, plaid wearing hunters and the dogs that love them.

justin said with a sigh, "birds are so fragile."

afterwards my mom and i flew over to pete's southside and one thing lead to another and our conversation got quite heavy. me saying, i wish i was stronger... i wish i could handle things easily like everyone else. she shook her head... other people don't handle things easily! she said. she might be right.

walking back i realized we are just like those birds. tough, yes. resilent, yes. highly habitual, yes. and very very fragile. maybe there is something about honoring the fragile.

overheard

left on my voicemail today, by rocketboy: shmooper figueroa, did you see rocketboy? rockethead-yardsale. in his glory. with rocketheads coming out of his head. and into the crowd. and blinding people. with awesome power. and dexterity. and talent. and good looks. did you see rocketboy? rocketboy was great. where is rocketgirl?

overheard

justin: blah blah blah (reads the horoscope from the paper).
marya: that's it? that's my great horoscope? when is it ever going to talk about gettin' busy?
justin: hold on. i'm not done (looks back down at the paper)... "p.s. ..."

maybe you had to be there.

overheard

jim is a guy i've worked with for well over three years. he has a degree or two in architecture and has fine taste in furniture and design and the like. he is married and also has a really super cute daughter named whitney who is 1.5 years old. he would like to have an eames lounge chair, but they retail for $3000. i told him i thought he could find a great deal on ebay, which he did -- $600! he's trying to think of creative ways to purchase...

marya: you could get whitney a job.
jim: doing what? Official Take Your Shit Out Of Every Cabinet and Drawer Person?
marya: or making Nike running shoes...

happy birthday bike happening

it's time for the bike happening's three year anniversary ride. you can read about the bike happening in the early days here. here. or pre-hap here. here. or see pictures here. and here.

they are expecting hundreds of people. there is a band. there is bike sumo. there is beer. there is a late summer evening. i know at least one person who is driving 3 hours to attend. (that's ironic, driving 3 hours to ride your bike for 3 laps). pictures and stories in the days to come.

meanwhile, if you live in slo town and like to have a lazy bike ride with a bunch of fun people and then hang out at central coast brewery, sipping home brew and listening to a fun little band, get your festively dressed self and your festively decorated bike to the mission at 9:22PM. right after farmers.

theme: don't muss yer hair and follow the traffic laws. this is not critical mass.

too busy to blog?

it's true it's true!

last week erik w. from [dw] posted a list of everything he still wanted to do with his life (which included at least 3 doctoral degrees, so the boy better get a move on in the schooling department) and i got to thinking about some of my goals.... if i just spent 15 to 30 minutes a day towards them. i thought i would start with one. in true emdot fashion they expanded to four new dailies. and they are eating up my day.

time economics
see you can think of things as 15 minutes... no big deal, but stack four of the puppies up next to each other... and then most of them take about 30 minutes... well, you are looking at a lot less time to do yer normal things.


my current favorite walk

tonight i had dinner with kb, hb, and danieljkallal at novo. great meal great atmostphere great time. tasty tapas. chilean wine. delectable coffee and three different deserts that we divided three ways.

june is magical. light late. birds everywhere. and the light, especially in the evening seems extra romantic or supermemorific. the only thing missing is fireflies.

did you see moby at the mirror project? it has reached critical mass.

complexity

The Venerable Khandro Rinpoche in an interview with Helen Berliner

"The human attraction to complexity arises when we try to evade putting into action what we know to be important. As practitioners, we listen to a lot of teachings and generate a strong intention to put them into practice. But then we fall back into old habits, instead of putting into practice the teachings that our mind and awareness understand to be true. We try to evade that issue. We're entangled in various practices that we think we should do, but we avoid puttin them phsysically, verbally into practice. By not putting the true view into action, we allow a great deal of laziness and ignorance to arise, which create a great deal of complexity.

"It's very important for all practitioners to have a very simple view. A simple view is whatever you understand to be important and true. Whatever you take to be important and beneficial for yourself and others — take the simplicity of this view and put it into practice. If you are true to your practice, complexity will dissolve. Whether your practice is meditation, compassion, awareness, resting the mind, genuine peace — when the view and action come together, complexity dissolves by itself."

happy little cowboy hat

scotty just gave me his cowboy hat! such a sweet gesture. look for it at live oak. i will be a-wearin' and a-rarin' to go.

overheard

scotty to wasco (the dog) when he thought no one was in ear-distance: awesome! totally awesome! it's a koala. wasco, look at that: it's a koala. (sings as he walks away)

what's been going on?

i feel like i'm finally slowing down to the point where i don't have to catch my breath at the end of each week, and that is nice. so not much has been going on, but at the same time, it's been extremely rewarding to have the time to read books and liesurely hang out with friends or write or play my guitar. it's a dangerous place for me, though, too, because these moments of restfulness are seductive and will lull me into full hibernation mode if i don't watch it.

there was a kissing contest. i was not in it. none of us were. but we all contemplated it. kiss the longest and you got a free night in a nice hotel in shell beach. the winning couple kissed for well over six hours. and that my friends is just not worth it. i'm all for the long kiss, but at some point i wonder if six hours of lip lock can't just suck the love from the both of you. you might end up saying, i never need to kiss you again.

that's not very romantic of me. but you know it is true.

plus there is the lip numbing and the tongue tiring, not to mention the sore feet from standing in one place for six hours. i can see doing this for a car. but a night in a hotel? i don't think so.

this weekend i read a book called dry by augusten burroughs. i love this guy's writing style. he is obviously one of those nonchallant geniuses who make things look easy. he is so talented that i bet he couldn't help but be a superstar in this lifetime. he also wrote running with scissors and i hope to pick it up sometime soon.

this is the second recovering-alcoholic book that i have read and also the second that i have loved.i take this either as a trend or a happy coincidence. the other book was drinking, a love story by caroline knapp. the difference between these two books? it is obvious that knapp's experience was still new and all-consuming. her story was more of an explanation of why this had to work for her. and it did work for her. borroughs meanwhile, waited a decade to tell his story and his version is more even, less persuasive. knapp maybe needed you to believe along with her. borroughs just tells you the facts and he is living proof that it works.

i once had a boyfriend who was in a.a. one of my favorite things to do with him was go to meetings. i'm not an alcoholic but i loved those meetings. i would happily agree to go or suggest going. i got a lot out of them.

he lived far away, so for me it was a truly anonymous experience. i've told many people about how much i loved those meetings and they've said, why don't you go here? and my answer is, shaking head, there's no such thing as anonymous in san luis obispo. you enter the county and check your anonymity at the door. it's just the law of the land. and that is okay with me.

however, recently another friend who lives locally is now attending these meetings and i'm dying to accompany him. what is my fascination? i don't know. i love the honesty and the rawness and the realness. there is something strange about an a.a. meeting — people just drop their guard before they walk in and sit down. i imagine there is an invisible spiritual coatroom before you enter filled with egos and boundaries and hidden agendas.

i think of writing burroughs a fan email. i went to his site today and checked his speaking arrangements. so disappointing — he read in l.a. today and will be in s.f. for three beginning on tuesday. that means he has a travel day tomorrow and if i had only read his book last week i could have seen about booking him in slo town — we are directly between these two cities. a great midstate rest stop. i was only a week away from making this happen. i hate those missed opportunities.

other people's thoughts

Writing a novel is like driving a car at night. You can see only as far as your headlights, but you can make the whole trip that way. — E. L. Doctorow

What's real is that if you do your scales every day, if you slowly try harder and harder pieces, if you listen to great musicians play music you love, you'll get better. — Anne Lamott

Write every day and read good books. — Augusten Burroughs, on advice for aspiring writers.

Suppose a person hits you with a stick. It does not make sense to be angry at the stick for hurting you, since the blows were inflicted by a person. Neither does anger toward the person make sense, since the person is compelled by anger (or greed or delusion). Ignorance becomes the villain, overwhelming reason and creating suffering. — Shantideva, 6th Century Buddhist teacher

I wonder if we are not best served by naming ignorance as the enemy to be defeated, even as we act firmly to oppose what we see as wrongdoing in the world, what we recognize as causing pain. This would leave us without human enemies, with only confused people needing help. — Sylvia Boorstein