| I am prepared for extraordinary things to happen. |
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| Everyone is fine, everything is not. |
[09 Nov 2009|03:20pm] |
It's strange how fast things change. It's late and you're helping your friends pack up their whole life, sorting through the debris of their life, and then you check your phone. You've missed four calls between one and two thirty from people who don't normally call you, a roommate and an unknown number. And there's a message, a message so casual you think it's a joke. But it's not a joke, the next message is the fire chief. It's not a joke.
And then you're in the house it's dark and you can't yet see the damage, it looks fine from the front but then you're inside. Your little light shows the dark streaks down the walls and it's that bad. But you can't see yet the piles of ash, the holes in the ceiling, you haven't looked through those beautiful original 1920's cabinets that you loved so much and seen the charred bedroom on the other side. You haven't felt the ashy water sloshing into your socks.
And later when you're sitting down you feel so dry, it's beyond thirst, the water you're drinking doesn't help. You feel like all the water was burned out of you, you can feel the blood moving through your brain, it's so thick. And on your way to your friend's bathroom for the third time you realize it's the alcohol. You were drinking wine, Jesus, an hour ago you were sitting right here, drinking wine. You were playing a dice game and looking through old books while the firemen were at your house and they were trying to call you and and oh god you had no idea. You were drinking wine. And when Damian drove instead of you it wasn't because your hands were shaking and you couldn't breathe, it was because that's what you agreed on. He was your DD. Jesus.
So now everything is different, the next year of your life looks completely different. All those things you were worried about, how to replace that antique door that Chad broke, getting the new washing machine fixed, the carpet in Amber's room. That door doesn't exist anymore. That carpet is soaked in wet ash. That's all gone. And now there's a whole new set of things, phone calls and phone calls and phone calls, the fire inspector, insurance, utilities. A new set of things to learn. You don't need to understand how to paint the trim or refinish a floor, you need to understand insurance law. Everything is different now.
It's strange how fast.
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[14 Oct 2009|11:10pm] |
I've been in a funk lately which I am beginning to think is caused by simple under-nourishment. It could be SAD, which I'm never even sure I suffer from because winter always coincides with SUPER HIGH STRESS TIME. For once I actually don't feel over-stressed. Since I dropped video (which I did, by the way,) I feel like I actually have the right amount on my plate, for probably the first time in like ten years. I keep myself busy, but (usually) feel like I have the time I need to get everything done, and a little to spare.
But I feel really blah. And sure, it could be the weather. Things have pretty much turned to crap in the last week or two. Or it could be food. Which is what I keep thinking about when I can't focus on my homework because I'm too hungry. Not that that's what I'm doing right now, la la laaa.
I wrote out this long thing about my new dietary restrictions and why they suck so much, and then I realized it was really boring, so here's a recap:
1. I am no longer eating nightshades because they aggravate my arthritis. That means potatoes, tomatoes and peppers, as well as eggplants and some other things I don't actually care about.
2. Those three things are really difficult to avoid in store-bought and restaurant foods.
3. Those three things are really difficult to avoid in cooking.
4. Our source of raw milk AND our source of eggs both dried up recently, restricting my diet even more since I am extremely reluctant to buy either of those things from commercial producers, organic or not.
5. I've been eating an obscene amount of meat, due to lack of time and options, and that really bothers me.
6. I've been eating a lot less in general. A lot less.
7. I, therefore, feel like shit.
If you've known me more than a few years you'll know I have a history of letting my failure to adequately nourish myself interfere with my health and relationships and commitments and life, so this new trend is not only exhausting, it's disappointing and scary and embarrassing and carries all the baggage of almost a decade of this bullshit. It fucks me up.
I never feel more a failure than when I'm struggling with food.
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[06 Oct 2009|04:39pm] |
I spent last weekend at a yoga retreat (for which I actually get college credit!) that takes place at St. Gertrude's monastery, and although my yoga teacher is very open (she's actually a UU minister) and makes sure for her part that people of all religious beliefs feel welcome in her classes, I still struggle. Firstly, the way Meredith teaches yoga focuses heavily on the spiritual, which I actually really like when I'm not stuck in the woods with a bunch of Jesus-lovers. (Please note that I'm talking about my classmates, not at all the Sisters who are probably even bigger hippies than I am.) It comes up a lot, and furthermore I had trouble explaining to people why I have such a deep connection to St. Gert's (the sisters know my name and give me extra smiles and ask about my mom, etc.) since I'm not religious at all.
Anyway, I got really tired of trying to explain my spiritual beliefs to people (some of whom are that brand of Christian that give you the distinct impression that You Are Going To Hell,) without having a name for it. But there must be a name for "I find it hard to believe in any God who would give a shit whether I believe in him or not + Moral decisions should be based on acting with maximal integrity and compassion, which looks exactly the same whether I believe in God or not = Why bother even thinking about it?" I mean, I can't be the only person who feels this way, right? So I set Damian out to find out the name of my religion.
Turns out I'm an Apatheist. I dig it. It's catchy, and the name pretty much sums it up, which will probably save me a lot of explaining. Now I have something I can tell people when they ask if I'm an atheist other than "Well, kind of but not really."
From that article: "an apatheist is someone who considers the question of the existence of gods as neither meaningful nor relevant to his or her life." Fucking exactly.
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[28 Sep 2009|10:00pm] |
Dear Livejournal;
Now that we have decided I should stick with the play, plz to be helping me make major life decisions some more plz.
I'm thinking about quitting video productions. When I was having last week's little crisis I was feeling distinctly like I couldn't handle both. (It's not so much the time commitment as the emotional investment and stress.) Since then I have come to feel better and better about the play, and worse and worse about the video.
Before you make this decision for me Livejournal, here's a little background: I am basically one class and three co-op credits away from getting my video productions certificate. Unfortunately, the program has been cut. So this class I'm in now is the last one required, and this is the last time it will ever be offered ever again ever. Leaving now and trying again later is not an option. The only thing other than this class I will need is three co-op credits, which basically means 120 hours working with a community group. Kind of like an internship, but more casual. For some nonsensical reason the college is requiring that we finish our co-op credits this year. By May. Because, you know, fuck 'em. (Where 'em = my classmates and I.) Now, this is a really small town and there are simply not a lot of opportunites to get co-op credits. SO I don't know if this is even possible, really. I guess I need to talk to Sean about this.
The other thing you have to know, Livejournal, before you make this decision for me, is this: I hate video. Turns out. I didn't even know it until recently, but I really do. ( I'm going to rant about this for a bit, but we can effectively sum it up by saying 'I don't like it.' ) As I have repeatedly demonstrated, I become very emotionally invested in my work, especially creative work and double-especially group work. (Which makes group creative work, like, triple-especially? Or would that be quadruple?) I just don't know if I can handle the heartbreak of another failed production.
Reasons to stay:
+ Video Productions certificate looks good on a resume if nothing else.
+ I might still learn some shit I can actually use in the future. (Maybe.)
+ I have a Video Productions scholarship paying half my tuition and would therefore feel guilty about leaving. (But the scholarship is extremely unlikely to be rescinded and I obviously do not have to worry about whether I will be awarded this particular scholarship in the future.)
+ I (as I have, again, repeatedly demonstrated) hate hate hate quitting anything or letting down people I have made a commitment to. Poor Maia and Alden will attest to what a mess I was last week when I was considering quitting the play.
Reasons to leave:
- I hate it.
- I may not be able to get my certificate anyway.
- I have better shit to do with my time.
- I hate it.
- OH I ALSO JUST REMEMBERED there is also another class I will need to take in the spring. A scriptwriting class with Patricia. I'm really not interested and would rather not take it, although it's sure not to cause the sort of distress that the productions classes cause. Ugh.
So, Livejournal, what should I do?
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| Writer's Block: What if calories didn't count? |
[18 Sep 2009|12:05pm] |
I was going to laugh and say no, but then I realized that "wouldn't count" goes both ways. I mean, eating is a huge pain in the ass. I forget to do it all the time. If I could actually go a whole day where I just don't have to worry about it? Awesome.
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| Somewhat less cryptically and a great deal less emotionally, |
[11 Sep 2009|12:56am] |
I'm having a picnic today at 4 PM near the playground in Kiwanis Park. If I have failed to invite anyone with the desire and ability to come, I apologize. You are welcome. Food is potluck style, but that's totally optional. Nobody has to bring anything.
There will be games and presents and cake.
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| I wish I could tell you how this feels, but I can't. |
[11 Sep 2009|12:45am] |
After Tet died I joined a forum he used to frequent, Northwest Tekno. There were a lot of people on there from Seattle who used to party with him, and I wanted to talk to them. I wanted them to tell me what happened, what went wrong. I wanted them to make it make sense. They couldn't, but it helped me to see their outpouring of grief. It helped me to see how loved Tet was, even though I failed him so.
That was four and a half years ago. I hadn't thought about that forum in years. At 12:01 AM I received the following email:Happy Birthday from NorthwestTekno
Hello Anthem,
We at NorthwestTekno would like to wish you a happy birthday today!
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[06 Sep 2009|12:34am] |
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Damian just slept through the last half hour of A Midsummer Night's Dream, (the RSC movie.) Me: So, how did you like it?
D: Um, it was good. I don't like it when movies fall asleep so much. Teehee! I love him. The movie is less good than I remember but the Pyramus and Thisbe play is much, much better. We're watching it again now because D slept through it. So awesome.
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[25 Aug 2009|12:32am] |
Homecomings are always difficult for the first couple of hours. One roommate has some complaint about another, things have disappeared or been broken, everything is a mess, there are cigarette butts and Gatorade bottles on the ground.
This time it's different. I don't even feel safe anymore, I don't feel like part of my community. And I don't think even you, Livejournal, will understand because it sounds so petty.
Somebody mowed our lawn. Damian and I don't mow and we only water native and/or useful plants. I don't need to get into why, because that's not the point. It doesn't matter why. It's our home and our choice.
Our rommmates report that while we were gone an older man came by, told them that "this place looks like a crack house" and proceeded to mow down not just two generations of lovely tall grass, but some specially planted native dryland bunchgrasses, a healthy clump of comfrey, a small rose cutting (that was actually surviving, thankyouverymuch,) and a snowberry we had planted to remind us of Oregon.
The rage I immediately felt was short-lived. I am angry yes, but mostly hurt. Why would somebody do this to us? To our home? I understand that we have aesthetic differences, but that doesn't excuse this. My human sovereignty has been deeply disrespected, the sanctity of my home violated. An act of violence and cruelty was committed here, directed at me, in my absence.
I feel so hurt and angry and defensive and sad. It makes me want to put a fence all around the property, or big "no trespassing" signs. And I dont want to feel like that. I want to feel safe and comfortable and welcome in my neighborhood.
Damian went around to all the neighbors asking of they knew anything about the incident. Nobody did, but the lady directly behind us gave him some tomatoes and said she thought we should trim the tall grass lining the alley, because the grass seeds blow around and can get in animals' eyes. I think we will, (or at least keep them from going to seed) because it's a small area and it's right across from the yard where she keeps her dogs. And to show that we're willing, as much as anything. To show that we want to be good neightbors, to make a sign of faith. To show the respect that we have been denied.
I filed a police report, and the officer was really nice about it. ("We don't usually get drive-by mowings.") We visited Mina and she was nice. The neighbor lady was nice. People being nice makes me feel better. But it can't take away the nervous feeling I know I will have when I stand in front of my house in the morning.
And it can't bring back my snowberry.
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[26 Jul 2009|11:58pm] |
So we're in Eugene and Damian is still at Sea Dog Nights. We're staying at his mom's place and she and her husband had dinner out so I was on my own, and I thought I would just make some scrambled eggs.
So I did. And all I can say is WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU PEOPLE? They were disgusting. And Tara is a big ol' yuppie hippie, so of course they're the fancy organic "free range" eggs. And they were still almost inedible. I can't imagine what the normal grocery store eggs look/taste like.
BREAKING NEWS: EGG YOLKS ARE ORANGE.
IF YOUR EGG YOLKS ARE PALE YELLOW, THOSE ARE NOT REAL EGGS. THEY ARE IMPOSTERS. GO TO A NEIGHBOR OR A LOCAL PRODUCE MARKET OR WHERETHEFUCK EVER AND GET YOURSELF SOME REAL GODDAMN EGGS.
Here's how you know your eggs are real eggs, and not imposters:
1. They come in a re-used egg carton.
2. They are a non-uniform size.
3. THE YOLKS ARE ORANGE.
4. They taste like food, and not like spongy liquidized cardboard.
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[07 May 2009|12:39pm] |
It would be disingenuous for me to claim a great deal of pride in my Southern lineage. My immediate family is Inland Northwest to the bone, wherever my parents may have come from. I have a great deal of respect for some aspects of the Southern cultural heritage, it is simply not my own.
HOWEVER.
As a second-generation Missouri expatriate, I do reserve the right to declare with a certain amount of authority that the substance that McDonalds is advertising as "sweet tea" is an abomination. It is a mortal sin. I hope there is such a thing as the Southern Culinary Heritage Foundation and they sue for defamation. McDonald's should be forced to stop using the word "tea" to advertise this beverage and call it just "Sweet" because that's what it is.
This liquid is to Southern sweet tea what a Taco Bell chalupa is to Mexican food: Not.
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[06 May 2009|12:29pm] |
Some crazy shit happened to me this morning. After using the Internet for about half an hour it stopped working and I got a page saying "Your Internet service has been deactivated. Please call [support line] for more information regarding your account."
So I did. Fifteen minutes and one very nice customer service lady later, I was transferred to a tech guy, and
It looks like your Internet has been shut down due to a DMCA complaint.
.... wut.
That's the Digital Millenium Copyright Act. A copyright holder contacted us with a complaint that you violated their copyright.
... wut.
Looks like somebody is uploading, ummmm, Lost Season 1 Episode 13.
... Fascinating.
Once we make sure that whichever computer is uploading it cuts it the fuck out then we can notify the ISP and 2 to 24 hours later they will reactivate our account. Since none of our roommates are home we had to post 24 hour notices on all their doors notifying them that we will be searching their rooms tomorrow. And then, we will be conducting raids.
Torrent raids.
I wish I were making this shit up.
update: It was Tim, Internet should be up tomorrow morning. What a pain in the ass.
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[05 May 2009|10:00pm] |
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I'm feeling very dissatisfied with myself lately.
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[28 Apr 2009|11:33am] |
Locals who haven't been informed yet: A Box Full of Shorts opens Wednesday and runs through Saturday. 7:30 in the lobby of Talkington Hall. It's a showcase of ten-minute plays, some of which are quite good, and one the best of which I directed. I also Stage Manage.
In other news, can somebody explain this to me?
Republican National Committee Chairman Michael Steele said, "Let's be honest: Senator Specter didn't leave the GOP based on principles of any kind. He left to further his personal political interests because he knew that he was going to lose a Republican primary due to his left-wing voting record. Republicans look forward to beating Senator Specter in 2010, assuming the Democrats don't do it first."
WHAT. THE. FUCK. He's not leaving the party because he's actually liberal, he's just leaving because he's liberal? Lulz.
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[22 Apr 2009|06:03pm] |
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The maybe-apple tree started dropping it's petals this afternoon. Seriously guys, happy motherfucking Earth Day.
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[22 Apr 2009|12:39pm] |
It occurs to me that yesterday's weed appreciation post should have been made today instead.
Happy Earth Day. Go turn off a light or something. :D
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[21 Apr 2009|02:43pm] |
Damian and I have a particular ethic when it comes to lawn care. We love green things, but we're opposed to enouraging non-viable species. We don't want to mow grass, but we also don't want to lay down river rock or bark chips. It's a fine line we walk.
Unfortunately, because we moved at the very end of the growing season (and the beginning of the busy-as-hell season) into a house with mostly bare earth as lawn, this has meant a long and miserable winter alternating between dusty parched earth and sticky, clayey* mud. The kind in which you can lose your shoes if you're not careful. Really. Damian has been trying to harvest water, moving about big piles of dirt all winter with very little to show for it. He built a wonderful herb spiral that looks like little more than an oversized pile of rock and mud.
Well, now is the fun part. Three weeks ago a tiny oasis began to sprout in the shelter of our front porch, a half dozen species, each it's own special shade of green. Some tiny purple flowers came and went, and now that patch is a foot high and as lovely as ever. Green is starting to sprout up all over now, even in the less hospitable parts of the yard. I had a lovely meditative time this morning watering and admiring the tiny weeds, while fuzzy little bees flew around my head, busily pollinating our probably-apple tree that just bloomed over the weekend. There are a few grasses, a handful of dandelion greens (no flowers) and something that looks like carrot (not Queen Anne's lace, not dill. Carrot.) and a strange purple tongue that's as wide as my hand and three times as long, and stands completely alone. Everything else is too tiny to know yet.
Damian just brought from Eugene two kinds of crawling thyme, some sort of crawling mintlet* thing that smells really nice, and some comfrey. He planted them in the dampest parts of the yard, hopefully they'll take off and make a groundcover. (Well, not the comfrey.) The hope is that something, anything, will cover all the bare earth this spring and hold the soil through the dry months, even if it ain't pretty.
I'm glad to be saving the time, power and water it takes to pamper a grass lawn, but that's not what I really like about this way of approaching it. It's inherently positive. Tradional gardening and lawn care methods are destructive by nature. It's about exclusion, keeping out what you don't want. What Damian and I are trying to do is invite everything in. The difference is in how I feel when I see some unknown intruder growing amidst something I planted or encouraged. Instead of feeling hostile or defeated, I get the pleasure of the surprise, I get to wonder what it will be like, and watch it with a tingly sort of anticipation as it grows and reveals itself.
I get to spend my time in my yard admiring things rather than criticizing them. There is nothing to be felt in my yard but pleasure.
It's this kind of attitude that I hope to apply to all aspects of my life. Yes, I have specific goals and desires, but I hope that whatever comes into my life I will welcome it. This doesn't mean that I can't nurture and encourage those aspects of my life that serve me best or bring me the most pleasure, just as I water my herb spiral and apple tree. It doesn't mean I can't make choices about what to take and leave.
It means that when something unexpected appears in my life, I'll give it a fair shake and see what happens. I hope I can approach all aspects of my life with the kind of openness, wonder and pleasure that I get from my yard.
* is clayey a word?
* mintlet is definitely not a word. But it should be, right?
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[17 Apr 2009|01:59am] |
I know that the second half of April is going to be pure hell, and I have been telling myself this for months. And here I am, on April 17, not going crazy. Not even feeling overwhelmed.
I feel like I'm teetering on the edge of something terrible, I can feel it looming over my head, about to crash down. I am not just scared, I am immobilized.
At the moment, though, I feel fine.
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[31 Mar 2009|10:49pm] |
We will be having a dinner party for Damian's birthday this Sunday. All Lewistonians are invited, just let me know if you're coming by, like, Sunday afternoon. It will be casually scheduled depending on audience participation, in the mid- to late-evening.
I also have a list floating around somewhere of things he wanted, if anybody wants a gift idea.
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[24 Mar 2009|08:31pm] |
We are now a two-person family.
This time was a little easier than last time.
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