Carn-evil



Umpteenth Annual Estab Halloween Party. Paasche's band played before the dancing began. Many ex-stabbies from all over the state -- Jamie, Ryan H, Laura, Ryan Capo. All the local alum. Where was Heather? Where was Maya? Sending best thoughts out to all ex-stabbies of yore. Missed you all.

Bryan Pumpkin

Bryan Pumpkin
Originally uploaded by revolution8.

Check out the Jack-o-Lantern display over at Flickr. This pulls up the "pumpkin" tag.

» Flickr Pumpkins

man, contemplating jersey

man, contemplating jersey
Originally uploaded by lia.

Focusing on the Losing?

What is wrong with the Apprentice is this: there is too much focus on the loser. I realize it is a show, so it needs an arc and an emotion for us to hang our attention spans on to. BUT, what is wrong with The Apprentice and this crop of Aspiring Corporate Weasels is the focus of the show.

We are supposed to be watching a show about finding the right apprentice for the job. Instead we are watching a show about finding the wrong person for the day.

I have worked in a sour workplace where the name of the game was Find This Season's Scapegoat. I have worked in a sour workplace where the name of the game was We Fickley Like You Now, But Do One Wrong Thing and We Will Spin All Those Other Good Things Into A Pile of Incompetence. I have worked in a a sour workplace that was managed by "Who's In and Who's Out." I have worked in a sour work place that was hungry for blood, blind to anything beyond their vision, and lacking the maturity of seeing Strength in Diversity.

And while I might still feel pangs of pissed-off-itude once in awhile when I think about that time, I can still see it as a positive because I have empathy for when I see others mired in that same muck.

If you are doing a task and the whole objective is about "Not Losing" -- when it should be about "Let's win this" -- you are setting yourself up for not doing your best work. You are setting yourself up for wolf-pack mentality. You are setting yourself up for Covering Your Ass instead of really doing something extraordinary.

The Apprentice is a hard show to watch anymore. It feeds our American bloodlust for finding the weak and then ripping them to shreds, digging into their flesh and ripping out their hearts all in the name of being right, being smarter, being snarky, being "not them." All with the talent of seasoned armchair quarterbacking.

Yet what we see in The Apprentice -- the Set up for Failure, the Maliciousness of Group Think, the Covering of the Asses, the Let's Point the Finger at You, or even the most base of "We don't like you because you aren't the best" -- this is what is wrong with America. This is what is wrong with Corporations. This is humanity in a very unattractive light.

And I guess being on a soapbox isn't that attractive either. But my point was, imagine how much more interesting this show would be if it focused on the winning team. If it focused on how to be a better leader, a better team player, a more creative thinker, a more courageous risk taker, a supportive boss.... It is missing so many opportunties. But that is the show that I wish it was.

The this, the that

Marvelling. Would you call it "it's getting old" if I said once again how god damn beautiful it is today? There's something about the weather after it rains. The full moon has made the tides extra high. The rain has made the atmosphere extra clear. And our hills are already greening -- about three months earlier than usual.

Speeding along. Today I had to relinquish the fast lane as I was not going fast enough for the Ford F250 behind me. :) But I got to the right and didn't even call him a name when I saw that he had a Bush Cheney sticker on his bumper.

Worrying. This election has got me a little fearful. Worried that if GW wins the world will change, our allies will leave us, and we will continue this downward spiral of untrustworthiness, deception, and fear. Worried that if Kerry wins our nation will continue to be divided as the Evil Contingency that plots things on the right (not all the right are evil -- I understand this) will continue to promote divisive dialogue, not allowing our nation to heal or become unified.

Wondering. Did we get the name wrong? Are we actually the Divided States of America?

Digging. This little email rush that has happened twice since my high school reunion last August -- someone will write an email to everyone and then there is a deluge of "I miss you" and "hope you are doing well" emails. God those warm my soul. I love having these old friendships still around me... like putting on that old HS sweatshirt and seeing that it still fits... or something. I'm reaching, but the words aren't quite there.

Lunar Eclipse 02

Lunar Eclipse 02
Originally uploaded by a superhero by night.

La Luna, La Bella Luna

Wow! Beautiful! And this is so cool: check out the flickr contigency as more and more people upload their photos from tonight.

AND... I think the Sox are going to win! Crazy! Lunar Eclipse and the end of a curse. I love crazily coincidenced things like this.

» Lunar eclipse as captured by Flickr

feeling the brotherly love

If you believe that the Liberal Media is a vast conspiracy out to stretch the facts and lead the nation astray, well I think you are looking for excuses to not challenge your own beliefs and concepts.

Pennsylvania is one of the swing states, one of the states that will determine who our next president will be. The Philadelphia Inquirer is supporting John Kerry. In doing so they are printing 21 articles -- one a day -- each expressing a different reason that you should vote for John Kerry, too.

In addition, the Inquirer is publishing an opposing view point to every one of their articles. The opposing viewpoint will run next to the opinion piece and all are written by experts for that subject.

God love the Philadelphia Inquirer. Read the 21 Reasons here.

tidbits

The last 24 hours have been pretty great. First of all, really nice dinner with Tom last night. Fun time and good convos... everything from inspiring some kid to be passionate about math (go Tom) to strategies to support my attempt to wean myself from my current computer addiction (that worked really well so far).

This morning is nothing short of extraordinary. A year ago today all of California was ablaze -- the whole friggin state. How many houses burned down? How many hundreds of thousands of acres burnt to a crisp? Too many. But this year our rains came a month early -- more yesterday even. And today, I drove Highway 1 to work (highly recommended, if you can keep your road rage in check with all the Cuesta students driving slow in the fast lane so they can make that left hand turn in five miles) and was treated to already greening hills, vast beautiful blue fucking brilliant sky, puffy white clouds and an amazing high, glassy tide. I took pictures. Film at 11.

Oh, oh. And Beau Jocque on my car stereo. I love Beau Jocque. Today's soundtrack was Coming In and Corn Bread. And I got to thinking about how Beau Jocque died -- decades too early. Which made me think of Mark Sandman of Morphine who died decades too early. Which made me think of both of these bands -- Morphine and The Zydeco Hi-Rollers that I saw multiple times in New Orleans and how New Orleans is the best place to see any live music anywhere. ...

Good thing the beautiful sky was there to distract me.

1000 posts

This is my 1000th post. In honor, I give you a really great link.

Errol Morris is the sly camera guy who brought you those clever Apple Switch ads. Now he brings you the very poignant, important political switch ads. I highly recommend watching these. I only wish they could flood our TV stations -- I wish these ads were on constantly until the election.

» Why they are switching their votes to John Kerry

Originally uploaded by b0.

I want this bumper sticker.

I listened to a mostly interesting thing today about the difference between liberals and conservatives and how it all comes down to.... the family. People who were influenced by the stern hand of the father tend to be conservative (are pro punishment and "earning" anything in life) while people influenced by nurturing families tend to be liberal (are pro helping others and supporting one another).

» Listen here

progressive on the outside, indie on the inside

I am a sucker for a quiz (mscaprikell -- you out there?). This was one of the more accurate test results, I thought. For the record, I have never, ever started a sentence with the words "Susan Serandon says...." Just wanted to be clear about that. But I have often started them with regards to the Simpsons. Sigh. The Simpsons. I so heart Ralph Wiggumisms.

I am a hybrid of: Indie Girl Progressive Girl. Click on the pictures below to read more: Take the 'What Kind of Girl Are You?' quiz at CookingToHookup.com

rant

I come from a family of nicknamers (don't we all?). And for the ten years that I was an only child I had a plethora of little loving nicknames that my mom would coo at me. Twinkletoes and Punkin being the most prominent two. When my little babysister was born, I quickly learned the art of sharing as slowly my little Twinkletoes name became hers. And my little Punkin name slowly whittled down to simply, "Punk."

And that's fine. I can handle it. I still find it sweet and endearing. Years go by. And yeah, okay, decades. I'm still Punk. UNTIL. Until until lately when I've been spending a little bit more time with my mom. And her dog. Her dog who has the perfectly fine name of Dini. Her dog, DINI, who I keep hearing being referred to more and more as Punkin.

Which is not okay. Eager to be fair and balanced I offer up the suggestion of calling Dini "Twinkletoes" (sorry Becca). And my mom just smiles and ignores me and says "but she is such a Punkin."

Life is so unfair.


Epilogue.

Mom: you sure have a smarty pants look on your face.
Mar: you should read my blog.

[pause as mother reads]

Mar: You better hope Child Protective Services doesn't hear about this.

[pause as mother chuckles]

Mar: And how come I get "Punk" and Becca doesn't get "Twee"?!
Mom: I call her Twink. But these names are interchangeable. I call you Twink.
Mar: No you don't.
Mom: But that dog... I just cannot call her Twinkletoes.

Which just adds fuel to my fire.

I'm thinking here that replaying mundane family nicknaming squabbles is probably not the most interesting reading in the world.

it's not all about flickr


Photo by Catherine Jamieson

It's important (for me) to remember that there are still sites out there beyond Flickr. Sites I have known and loved for years. Sites that made me ooh and ahh and laugh and that impelled my fingers to leave comments in the comments sections. Number one on that list is the prolific Catherine Jamieson (Seajay, as she's known in the dw neck of the woods). So, I'm reminding you as well: there are pics beyond Flickr. But can you imagine if CJ joined Flickr. Ohmigod. There'd be no leaving it then.

» Catherine Jamieson, Fluxing/reduxing and all of the above

Marigolds

Marigolds
Originally uploaded by Twinmama.

More SLO goodness on Flickr. I've known about SLO Lane for awhile and have no idea why I don't read her site on a daily basis -- cuz it is a site that should be read on a daily basis.

Meanwhile, she's on Flickr and her photos are rich and beautiful and capture this beautiful central coast we all love so much.

I've been driving past this field -- actually -- the field I've been driving by is bright orange, so maybe this is from a different time of year -- but this is what patches of my drive to work look like: farmland and then bursts of color. God love the central coast.

Clickity Clackity

Clickity Clackity
Originally uploaded by emdot.

Cute Becca. A more apt picture would have had Becca traipsing about the house and/or town in her bathing suit or leotard as those are the only two pieces of clothing she wore from age four until age... um... 13?! (Competitive swimmer and dancer). Here you see the last day she was ever seen in regular clothes until she hit junior high school.

Heh. Writing the word "dancer" or even saying the word "dancer" always makes me think back to this time when I met a former ballerina from the Bolshoi. It was my birthday dinner and she was there as somebody's date. As was her screechy daughter (please stop screeching in the french restaurant little screecher monkey). Small Talk Emdot tried overly hard with the small talk saying to Miss Bolshoi 1985, "so you used to be a dancer?"

"DANCER?!"

"DANCER?!"

"I WAS NOT A DANCER!" dramatic pause "I WAS A BALLERINA FOR THE BOLSHOI BALLET!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"

Hence, proving that the screeching daughter simply took after the screeching mother.

bailey dances for Luna

bailey dances for Luna
Originally uploaded by zens.

I cannot get enough of this photo and this photo's caption.

alrighty then

I got a nice little note from someone in London saying that my site is a googlewhack: the one and only site that comes up when you go to Google with "snorkeling" and "guttersnipe." This is what I love: one, that my site came up; two, that someone was crazy enough to put in snorkeling guttersnipe into google to see what would come up. Crazy frickin Brits.

The weather's been crazy, too. Blustery, stormy – we're talking trees crashing into roofs and awnings, we're talking someone trapped inside their car, we're talking about part-time flooding and my street — it's completely carpetted with pineneedles. All this weather makes an interesting backdrop for personal scatteredness and thought flooding and out of control limbs and the like. Temporary chaos and it's time to get my bearings and look at a map and figure out, where'm I headed anyway?

What I love about reading a good book: it makes you want to write. Reading someone else's brilliant thoughts or beautiful metaphors or clever juxtapositioning leaves my mind brimming. I'm like the high school athlete who wants to try harder after watching the olympics. ;)

I remember feeling this way after reading Augusten Burroughs "Dry." (And I recommended this book to a friend/acquaintance who forgot I recommended it to her and a year later offhandedly confessed how much she hated him and his book and his styles and his themes and… waaaaahhhhh.).

Recently Girlfriend in a Coma came into my little paws. And while, yes, of course, I loved the writing… it was the themes that suckerpunched me. Things I know about up close and personal: arrested development ("that is such your word," Dan said with the accessorized eye roll), life kind of stopping and yet still going on while you wait for someone for years (tho mine was not romantic) and then how life stumbles and lurches forward afterward, and then the theme of finally learning the truth of love and rightness and the healing of the soul; the healing of the heart. That stuff KILLS me. Combine this with similarities to Magnolia, Donnie Darko, and The Lovely Bones…. It was just a meant-to-be-read, for me.

And I wonder, why do I have to be so personal about it all? Why can't I just say, yeah, that book was great. Loved it. Next?

September was so awful and yet amazing. Awful: my own version of start stop start stop and doubting and nothing happening. Amazing: serenfuckingdipity and all these loose ends coming to a really beautiful sweet hug goodbye and all kinds of gentle reminders. This is all just personal pseudo psychological crap, so click to your next blog if this isn't what you are looking for. But I feel compelled to write here… Sometimes it is easier to be in a time like September than a time like October when it is time to go forward and actually do and/or change and/or act on these finally now closed chapters, these finally learned lessons, these finally opened new doorways.

dinner with friends




Tomorrow Jan leaves for Northern California so tonight it was a conditional farewell dinner (just in case we don't see her before she travels far far away). She's Burma bound. Only it's called Myanmar. Only I like to call it Myanmar-mar. Cuz I can. We stopped in for a little drinky at McCarthy's before Thai super dinner. McCarthy's was abuzz with everyone crossing fingers for Boston (I wonder how it turned out?). Talks of Rebel ensued. I tried to tempt everyone to go to Virgin Gorda with me in the next 12, but I think Jan's idea of us all meeting up in Thailand might have won out. Big talk now... let's see what happens in a few months.

Storm 2

Storm 2
Originally uploaded by otaku.

oh man oh man. it is stormy. it is rainy. it is windy. at the office, it is flooding -- not from the ceiling (though, yes, in another area it is), but from the ground. this building isn't on foundation and somehow the rain is seeping in from i don't know where, but the carpets by the outside walls are soaked -- at least 2 feet in! the big glass door that opens to the public has been blown open three times swinging wildly. i had to lock it! something is rolling and banging around on the roof crash crash bang bang bang, but i don't know what it is. everyone else has gone to tend to buildings in some state of remodel -- covering unroofed houses and securing partially built houses and it's looking dire.

some guy just walked across the street and it was so windy that his jeans were flapping against the wind.

i guess it wasn't a great day to wear sandals.

yesterday i left the house in just jeans and a light shirt and my neighbor yelled hello and then said, "whaddareyagonnado if it starts raining?"

"i'm water proof!" i told him.

only today i'm not so sure.

sharing the ♥

I ♥ Jon Stewart.
He's smart. He doesn't take himself too seriously. He's funny. And he'll call you on your shit. Now thass my kinda guy. Anyway, you probably already saw it, but if you didn't (and really, I'm telling you, you should), I'm givng you a link to last Friday's CNN Smackdown.
» 15 minutes of uncomfortable can't believe yer eyes
» get the bit torrent app
» what's the latest

I ♥ Howard Dean
Maybe its best that Dean lost the primary. By not being president, Dean can be more truthful (god that was a sad statement I just wrote) and perhaps enable more change and fire up more people.
» the fresh air interview

This morning? Man. My mood was so foul I didn't even want to hang out with me. Blech. Somewhere around 3ish I realized I should probably eat something, so I had lunch with KB & Bret and afterwards, to help cheer me up KB and I went to the movies. :) Oh, yes, it was a sappy cornfest, and I'm not going to tell you which one, but I will say this: coulda been better / coulda been worse.

Tonight it was Tortilla Soup night. Delish. Jan's back in town, but only temporarily. While my fingers have given their best effort -- staying crossed whilst I hoped and hoped that our fine friend would not only stay stateside but slo-side -- there is no fighting the inevitable. And so, Janski will be heading out once again in December. Hello, Burma? You'd better be getting your act together, cuz JS's is coming to town. (meanwhile, soup = yum and afterwards was impromptu Dan concoction of banana bread + buttered-sugared-heated-bananas + chocolate. mmmmm).

Yesterday was Shaun of the Dead. My very first Zombie movie. It's pretty safe to safe to say that it'll be my last, too, unless there is Shaun of the Dead II. Strictly farce-y, strictly silly, it was worth full price and I laughed and laughed. I got most of it, but c'mon, that Brit humor flies fast, so I wouldn't mind seeing it again.

BUT BUT BUT (and no offense to any of you fine european friends far and wide) there was the LAMEST ad before the movie and ohmigod it was straight out of Mentos-land and was so weird and just a bit off, that both me and Tom kinda scratched our heads and exchanged glances when it was over (which was not soon enough -- but then it is so awful I kinda want to watch it again and again) and I whispered the only explanation I could think of, "Europe." All that said and I'm not quite sure what the add was for... online radio? Phone/Camera/Radio? I don't know. (Tho recently saw hilarious car ad from Sweden involving car and decapitated cat which sounds awful but was good for the incredulous chuckle.).

timotribute

timotribute
Originally uploaded by polarboy.

poured down

Yesterday God gathered all his available west coast angels and told them it was time to hit the aisles of Home Depot. It was time to buy some buckets. New buckets were needed as all the others were old and worn out or just left lacksidaisically in South East Asia, last monsoon season. So the buckets were readied and only some of the angels got lost in other aisles thinking of Cloud Improvement and Do It Yourself, and only two or five were pulled in by the powertools. The rest stayed focused. Then the water was scooped and the pouring began.

The last time I was in rain was last March in Maui when my sister and Albert got married. I marvelled at their smarts for choosing an island wedding. The angels there, the ones that got the lucky post of Hawaii, had bought their buckets and had scooped their water.

--

I woke up at 2:30 am to a demanding, pleading, persistent, aching cry. Some cat somewhere in my neighbor was locked out of its house, stranded in the downpour. "Go under the porch," I tried to ESP to the crying cat. "Get under an eave. Please be creative." But, driven by the angels and the buckets, this cat was determined. This cat had a purpose. That purpose was to wake up its fucking owners even if that meant waking up the whole neighborhood in the meantime. His meow spanned an octive -- low baritone callings to high-pitched exclamation-pointed pleas. This cat was a master of endurance and tenacity. And at 3:30 his arias were seemingly only just beginning.

--

Last night was a little Octoberfest party complete with drunken, singing Germans. Dan and Jill and Jenn and Kerry and I sequestered ourselves for fun little talks and catching up. I got there late but there was still delicious food and rambles on books, plans, people, and house affairs. Meanwhile, the rain still came down.

This might not bode well for the Halloween party (theme: carn-evil). Mid October rains often mean wet Halloween. Much to KB's chagrin I'm doing my normal one-two dance number of "I'm not going this year" to "maybe I'll go" back to "I'm not going this year." I said so again last night and she just sat there with a funny smile on her face and didn't say anything. "You and Bret can still go," I said (I'm the one with the invite). She smiled, "Well, we'll just wait because I know you will change your mind eight or nine more times before then."

I do this every year.

--

Shoot. I had a lot more to talk about. Yesterday a million thoughts and a million tangents and all kinds of everything were just brimming to the top. I should have blogged yesterday. :) More later perhaps.

i love melissa

My friend Melissa's been traveling for the last three (and a half?) months — all over the world, she has jumped from one continent to another. Instead of doing a streamlined, meandering trip, Melissa has been spending three to four weeks at a time in one beautiful location and then moving to a completely unrelated yet equally beautiful other location. For example, I think she jumped from Guatamala/Central America to Thailand (and asst countries)/Asia, then India/(does one call out subcontinents?) and then Europe and etc. She sends out these rich, meaty email describing exotic locales and friendly people and makes it sound dreamy and romantic. Truly, she should be a travel writer. Now she's in Spain and has this to say:

We´ve had three unsuccessful pickpocket attempts in the last week alone, which provokes me to anger rather than any other emotion. Here in Spain, the people that have tried to steal from us are perfectly suitable looking people (well, one of the guys did look a little crazed in the head) with all of their limbs and clothes on all of their body parts. And I think about all of the people in India who were truly starving and missing an arm and wearing torn rags for clothes and I'm just pissed that people here would think it was okay to just sneak up beside us and try to unzip our bag. Shannon reminds me that there are plenty of pickpockets in the U.S., too, but I guess I'm not such a target there so I don´t think of it. If the locks don't keep these petty thieves away, my foul language is sure to.

What's Worse?

A.) being too earnest in a blog or B.) being too earnest in an email? ENOUGH WITH THE EARNESTNESS, EMDOT. I can't help it. But the deal is... I'm done with covering myself up with the Reflective Sarcasm Jacket and matching Protective Sidestep-with-Wit helmet. Yet, truthfully, it makes me a little uncomfortable, all this, well, um, earnestness.

But just when I was once again internally grimacing over yet another too earnest email, I got a little phone call from a good friend who didn't even say hello, just began the conversation chanting "I love you I love you" until I was overcome with giggles.

And while that was just the magic elixir I needed, I wish I was one of those people who could just say what I wanted to say and not care what anyone else thought about it. Next lifetime. In the meantime, I'm calling a ban on earnestness for the next 72 48 24 hours.

oh dear lord i so lurve the blogosphere

My little sister, god love her, makes sure I've read the latest from Mr. Dooce. Thanks for the tip, Bec.

He can talk about optimism, but with Cheney on the ticket, who is he kidding? Dude, if you want to be optimistic, you don't choose Captain Pacemaker: The Dark Lord of Horrible Scenarios to be your Vice President.

Sigh. I do so love a man who can Snark. Jon is Snarktastic and Dooce'd better stop posting pics of him on her site taunting all of the single wimmin of America. I mean, I'm not saying; I'm just saying.

and PS how many times can i invoke those other people's lord's name in vain? ;) I almost did it three times (which would make me the equivalent of who? Peter?), but actually showed some restraint (before noon even) and kept it at two.

and PPS more Snarkliciousness (from comments on Mr. Dooce)

And by the way, if Kerry doesn't win, I plan on throwing up between sobs.

I will also demand that SNL bring Will Farrel back to make the next four years more tolerable.

Amen to that. And someone else wrote something about "Four more years / Four more fears" But my intermittenly dyslexic eyes read "Foul" more years and for the first time my intermittenly [1] dyslexic eyes were right.

[1] I kinda like the idea of inter-mittens.

Superman and Wonder Woman

Superman and Wonder Woman
Originally uploaded by cahernan.

My kinda touching

Touching as in meaningful. Jeez Louise. Pull thy heads out of the gutter, guttersnipes. ;)

Not to jump on the cliche bandwagon, but I felt myself a bit bowled over thinking about Christopher Reeve and all that he has done since his accident. The way he approached his accident seemed so full of dignity and courage.... very touching. And the irony feels like the wizard behind the curtain.... pulling our humanity strings.

Monday Fresh Air reran an interview Terry Gross with Christopher Reeve. Man, maybe I'm just emotional today, but the tears just started streaming down my cheeks. I admire his brand of honesty and courage very much.

» Christopher Reeve Interview
you'll have to scroll to the bottom of the page.

oh and PS... what a closet buddhist he was. lots of talk about mind. ;)

presidential debate, part III

I made it twenty whole minutes before having to get up and walk away from the tv because Bush makes my teeth itch. But I stuck it out.

pith helmet

"Artists, poets — whatever you want to call those people whose job is "making" — take in the commonplace and are forever recognizing it as worthwhile. — Corrita Kent

(as seen on Wish Jar Journal)

overheard

My mom's been doing me a coupla favors. Lemme just say: I majorly lucked out in the Parental Department. So, I stopped to get her flowers today, to say thanks and to let her know that I know how much time/effort she's been putting into things. Only... once I got to Los Osos I could not think of any place to buy flowers. I stopped at a nursery....

Man: Can I help you?
Mar: Um, do you sell cut flowers? Do you know any place that sells cut flowers?
Man: There's a florist up there by Carlocks. There's a pet store, too.
Mar: In my experience, flowers are easier to give than puppies.
Man: Welp. That's true!

you'll never believe this

{not for the faint of heart} {that means you, KB} What am I doing right this very minute? You'll never believe this: I'm donating blood. I'm actually doing what is known as an R1 donation, which is a high-tech system which separates the plasma and red blood cells while you donate. Afterwards the machine will actually "give me back" a saline solution (mixed w/ some of my original blood?). Supposedly this makes you feel better than if you had done a traditional donation. I LOVE THIS.

So I brought my iPod and am going to listen to a mellow playlist (includes Glover Gill -- Waking Life Soundtrack and Dub Natural, a super cool mix from usually non-lectronica Michelle Shocked), kick back, cruise Flickr and do my good deed for the day.

addendum

• (not for squeamish). The only time this felt uncomfortable was when the saline-solution was put back into my vein. Just a little uncomfortable; not bad. The saline solution is room temperature -- cooler than the hot-blooded veins, so it felt kinda creepy and chilly and icy and sorta sinister. Weird. (/squeamishosity)


• I forgot to explain: at the new Blood Bank each person who donates has a computer right there in front of them, so you can watch movies or cruise the "Internets" (oh George Bush, you are such a buffoon). How cool is that? So it was me, my iPod, and blogger/flickr to pass away a quick 35 minutes.


• 'Cept, while most people take 35 minutes, I'm like Old Faithful here: my veins were made to donate blood. I am in and outta there faster than any other donor and if you don't believe me I challenge you to a race! (I won't be eligible .til some time in December.


• I told the Blood Letting Person (Blood Tech? Count Techula? Dracula Welby, RN?) that I was going to be wanting the fanciest and/or more colorful bandage they had. This guy was so nice and thoughtful -- he brought me four colors to choose from. Hot Pink. Bright Orange. Electric Sky Blue. And Toxic Waste Green. I LOVE YOU BLOOD LETTING MAN. I chose Bright Orange, in honor of fall and my earthy-toned attire (khaki and black).

oh wait oh wait, one more one more.

• This woman who was donating same time as me but easily had four or almost five decades on me has given blood 111 times. And that's not counting all of the sporadic times she gave before she started her blood-doning mission. She walked outta there with a t-shirt and a coffee mug. I walked outta there empty-handed (yet with super styley bright orange badge of honor, so all was not lost).

Mt. ZAO

Mt. ZAO
Originally uploaded by tamaki.

(Here I am, on the right; watch out, for my fires are fiery).

Lessons learned this weekend: it's not that I type fast, I just type faster than I think -- almost like my fingers are thinking before my brain. Or my brain is meadering and fingers are on 100 yd dash. This causes many spelling errors and interchangeable verbs and prepositions. Also, my fingers spell phonetically before brain can catch up. So Nextdoor Neighbor becomes next store neighbor. Hello, fingers? Please take a chill pill and ease up a bit.

The way the world works.
What I love about life and this crazy world: it's all connected and coincidenced and synchronized, whether we know it or not. For instance, let's say you get a new car -- some new model that you think is cool and that not many others have. (Hello, Dan.). You buy said car and next thing you know, THE CAR IS EVERYWHERE. Unbeknownst to you, everyone has been driving this car for years and years and your eyes just never took it in. Now that you drive one, they are ubiquitous. (And sorry, too late to buy less ubiquitously driven car).

For me this phenom happens a lot and latest form is of Sweden. Who knew? SWEDEN IS EVERYWHERE.

I'm a wierd combo of Mexican and Swedish and I've only ever known one other person to have this funny ancestral mix (Chip! Where are you?). Needless to say he was highly intelligent and fiercely attractive and hugely greatly successful. Natch.

Okay. I had a pretty potent cup of coffee this morning. ;) I should stop. Some day my blog posts will actually have an arc and be succinctly edited. I will create a "Notify Me" so you can sign up and know when this happens.

This is the Bad Cat

This is the Bad Cat
Originally uploaded by emdot.

Well, tonight I was supposed to drive two hours south for a weekend-long retreat, but the center changed its plans and I found some extra time on my hands. Kinda glad to not do the drive, but truth be told, I could prolly do with the meditation practice. My brain needs a break.

» interview with Illustrator Marjane Satrapi
Satrapi wrote an illustrated memoir (a la maus) about growing up in iran before and after the revolution and being an outspoken, trouble-making (havoc wreaking? tm apprentice) female. She says her best friend was killed in a bombing raid and that death evaporated any fear she previously had. Once you are not afraid to die you have no more fear (she said it much more eloquently and with a more interesting accent).

» interview with interview with jimmy page
Speekina accents, what kinda british accent does Page have? Yet c'mon. It's Jimmy Page. Let's have no accent quibble. Page ponders if he were to wander into a guitar shop with the "No Stairway" sign and rule, would they make an exception for him? Also about John Bonham's ability to tune a drum and how great it was to tour with the Black Crows (Hey KB tell Bret that this one's for him).

» interview with tom waits
About wanting to be an old man at a young age and how he still wishes he'd busked it. Also how people mistake one of his songs for being sung by Frank Sinatra (yeah, okay, you have to suspend belief a leetle bit). As well as a sweet song in tribute to Louis Armstrong.

» tom, dan, and peter on the "media" and what they would do differently
About their friendship, political blogs, the nonexistance of journalistic science, and covering the Laci Peterson trial

Man, I tried to listen to the debates, but George Bush's tone of voice makes me want to throw things and/or become Canadian. The fact that he appeals to this massive amount of people — I only wonder who these people are because he makes my face scrunch up. I had to keep changing the channel.

fat cats

The vet says the cats are fat. But I think he meant phat. Cuz he's a hip vet, in a very four-years-ago sort of way.

So kitties are going on diets. I don't really understand this, as the vet's been telling me all along to expect one-pound-growth per month. Chapin is 11 months and weighs 11.3 pounds.

You know what this means (11 months...). Ridiculous first birthday cat party in the works. Get ready to roll your eyes, all ye "enough with the cats on the blogs" blog readers. ;) This blog has no shame!

Plus, it's fun to dress cats up in hats. (I learn from the best).

And aprospos of nuthin at all, starting tomorrow I'm seriously cutting down online activity. Bets can be placed in the back. Use the secret knock.

p.s. High 5 to Merlin. I'm the only person I know who sold back all her Liz Phair CDs (even the store guy said, "really?!") and don't even get me started on PJ Harvey. I want to like them. But sometimes wanting's just not enough. More Merlin Musings, this time with camera.

where i want to go


photo by andrea scher, superhero

I want to go here. In the next 12 months. Wow. Paradise. I want to spend the day snorkeling and the nights lounging and laughing under twinkle lights. Bare shouldered. I think this might be heaven.

I also loved this:

On Humpy's tag it said:
I wander.
Feed me
Love me
Release me

and we decided that we all need to wear tags like that.

:)

When W goes to sleep he's a viking

When W goes to sleep he's a viking
Originally uploaded by finn.

Snerk! Now this is my kinda protest sign: Ralphwiggumism Protests.

"Me fail English? That's unpossible!"

evangelista

I'm nothing if not an evangelist. In other words, if I love it, I'm going to believe in the universal-awesome-ness of it and I will tell you about it. And I might tell you about it two or three times. Unless you are my nextdoor neighbor. In that case I might tell you nine or ten times. I can't help it: it's just who I am. The very enthusiastic girl who wants to share the Most Awesome Thing In The World. Whatever that happens to be when we run into each other.

Current Evangelism
» iPods
» Flickr
» Copa de Oro
» Dragon Pheonix Pearl Green Tea
» Banana Waffles
» The Apprentice Over it.
» TWoP
» Information Architecture
» Gmail
» Los Osos/Baywood Park
» Fresh Air
» NPR
» This American Life
» Brett Dennen

I'm nothing if not phonaphobic. Please don't take it personally if I'm slow on the Return Call or if I sidestep being the person to set up a dinner with a group of friends. I'm also pretty tough to pin down on any kind of planning... like commit to coffee?... ummm.... ahhhh... can we play it by ear? Jeez, why is it, do you think, I am still single? I can't even commit TO COFFEE.

Jan and I were driving out to Montana de Oro this morning. She's only here for a few more days and we both realized, silently at the same time while motoring out to MdO, that there should be a Jim-and-Ana dinner before she leaves.

Jan: Do you want to call them or do you want me to call them?
Mar: You should call them. I'm phone-unreliable.
Jan: Heh.
Mar: Hey, at least I admit to it right up front.
Jan: But you are fun-reliable.
Mar: This I am. I am very fun-reliable. And pun-reliable.

I was reading some new-agey crap (ha) last night that sent an arrow straight into my heart. About how we are each right exactly where we are supposed to be. I don't care if it sounds airy-fairy -- I think this is spot on. Also it said "imagine if everyone did what was true in their heart for one day... In one day the entire world would change." I'm paraphrasing. I said something like this last week and man... seriously... I think this is right.

I think we are put on this earth to do what we love. What do you love? Do that. Today. Even if only for five or fifteen minutes.

Monday, Monday

I'm the only person in the entire universe who likes Mondays. What can I say? I like fresh starts and appreciate having one every single week. Plus I was born on a Monday.

Recent fun things.

Beer with new friend. Always fun. 'Cept Mar Mar Superstar should prolly stick with just one, even though I only had just two. But just one-and-a-half and I start feeling a little overly silly and the mouth starts going and the enthusiasm starts flowing and someone. should. really. stop. me. Either that or feed me dinner beforehand.

Janski's in town. Time with Jan always makes me fired up to go out there and live my life. Cuz hers is so... adventurous and productive. Back for a few months from a few years in a far-off-distant Asia where her best friends were muslim men and she became accustomed to regularly intermittant electricity, Jan has stories that make you happy to be a part of the human race.

She traded me her stories for Flickr Lessons. We spent a couple hours going through how to set up an account, how to create a flickr web address (bean, maya, jdr/calvo, kellsbells [<— new nickname for mscaprikell] — all y'all need to do this), showing how contacts, groups, privacy settings, comments, notes, blog this, and favorites work — the whole shebang. Tomorrow we're going over Blogger.

Jan's only uploaded a couple of pictures from Tajikistan, but they are worth a gander.
» Janski's photos
» Jan from Last Summer

For your listening pleasure
» The man who surfed the whale
» Zach Braff interview
Zach Braff? What's not to love.

overheard

emdot: hey, when's that guy sposedta be here?
ann: thirty minutes ago.
emdot: you love him.
ann: i so do not love him.

Ann's been awaiting the computer guy for days. "He doesn't call!" she says, about his non-responsiveness and/or lateness. I sigh and say, "He doesn't call, he doesn't write...."

rabbit rabbit rabbit

"No president who has presided over Abu Ghraib should ever say he wants to put anyone on a leash." — Andrew Sullivan

Good one, Andrew.

It's October and I am not so sad to say buh-bye to September. True, it was my birthday. True (well, according to some), I had all these incredibly "lucky" planets lined up in a Luck Line pointing directly (and luckily) to my heart (or something; talk to the astrologists; they'll tell you all about it). Yet... SEPTEMBER SUCKED and I was quite happy to show it the door.

Last night, well, shoot. I missed the King and Queen coronation for Mardi Gras. I meant to go to that. But I worked late and around 8 Dan and Fred swung by, swooped me up and took me to dinner at our favorite coastal eatery, Taco Temple. (Yum does not even begin to describe.) (Taco Temple is like California Coast Cuisine... fancy, shmancy food wearing its weekend kickaround clothes). This was followed by drinks at an MB watering hole and colored in with indepth discussions about men, women, sex, dating, sex, work, sex, etc. Very fun.