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The Joy of Reading
May 31, 2002
I walked out of the bedroom after nursing the baby to sleep into this scene in the living room:
m is reading his book The Case of the Puzzling Possum and the cat is laying at his feet. m looks up and says "I'm reading The Case of the Puzzling Possumto Giusseppe," and then continues to read.
A few minutes later, he gets to a part of the book where one of the characters gets dizzy, and he says "Did that make you DIZZY, Giusseppe?" When Giusseppe does not respond, m says "I guess it was a good bedtime story, because Giusseppe is asleep."
And, sure enough, he is.
Um...ok
May 31, 2002
Well, at least I was able to change things so only the last 21 entries are appearing on the index page. But I'm perplexed as to why the default of one week is being ignored. Oh well...if you want to read more than the last 21 posts, check out the archives...
edited to add: well, apparently I have some work to do on the archives, as well...since clicking on the archive page brings up a list of all of the titles of every post rather than a time limit. Hm. Very very strange.
This is good
May 31, 2002
Found this while bloghopping
I thought this was interesting
May 31, 2002
I have noticed that lately I find myself sitting in silence either reading or using the computer. I "forget" to turn the radio on. This article intrigued me.
New issue of LiP Magazine
May 31, 2002
Why haven't I heard anyone else raving about how awesome they are? This is the liquid issue. I need to take some time to read it this weekend.
Wow. cool
May 31, 2002
KD had a link to this site, which I thought had some extremely cool body painting images - scroll through. Not safe for viewing at work.
Little Bear's Friend by Elsa Holmelund Minarik
May 31, 2002
Little Bear makes a friend.
Little Bear's Visit by Elsa Homelund Minarik
May 31, 2002
Another in the little Bear series. I just love these books.
Duuuuude!
May 31, 2002
I totally thought I was going to be '90's.
The Case of the Puzzling Possum
May 31, 2002
This is the book that m chose as a reward for learning how to read. And he's probably sitting at the house right now reading this over and over again as I type this. He spent about 2 hours this morning reading it. He is fascinated with it! I've read it to him about 4 times in the last 2 days.
It's not a very interesting book, in my opinion. I can't tell if m likes it so much because it's a good book or if it's just because he's learning to read and that's exciting to him. Basically it's the story of a rabbit and racoon detective team who have to solve a mystery about a missing trombone. Nothing heavy duty.
Support Your Local CTC
May 31, 2002
I just found out that our DOE funding was renewed for a full year. This news is especially huge because the funding pot for CTCs (community technology centers) was reduced from 66 million to 15 million dollars, and they still saw fit to fund us with the remaining funds. Hopefully this bodes well for our continued city funding. We can really only wait and see.
One of the things that I love about the program I work for is it fits so well into my personal ideology about what schools are really for. Our program purchases (or acquires through corporate donation), installs, and maintains computer labs in 2 local high schools (we're hoping to expand in the future) so that the students have access to the technology during the day. Then we provide free computer training and access for the community at night. We call it a "double bang for your tax buck" because we're using the facility that would normally lie dormant, in wait for the students. And we're using it around the clock (well, not literally, but moreso than usual) and around the year.
Our program provides the community with access to computers with modern hardware and software, as well as high-speed internet access (which is why I'm here right now), and we have dedicated, professional, PATIENT instructors to help people learn the skills they need to survive in an increasingly technology-driven society. Not only do we provide them with those hard skills, but we also strive to help people learn with dignity and respect for their individual challenges. We provide a service that would cost a lot of money, and would be worth every damn penny of it...and we do it for free. And most of us love what we are doing, so we are able to have fun while we're working.
I really love watching a new computer user come in, worried that he or she will be made to feel stupid or ignorant because of a lack of skills or comprehension. I love watching them flourish and gain confidence. I love seeing them succeed. And I love hearing about what they are able to accomplish as a result of the skills and/or confidence our program helped them to improve upon.
If you have a community technology center in your area, check them out! You might be able to volunteer. I can tell you it is a very rewarding, educational, and spiritually fulfilling experience.
This Week in My Life: 1999
May 31, 2002
Read about it here
This Week in My Life: 1999
May 30, 2002
From a journal with these lyrics scrawled on the front :
"Another bird prepares to fly
Another soldier prepares to die"
-Flux
(um, ok, so I seem to scrawl flux lyrics all over all of my journals...)
I think I should begin with a journal entry that is dated May 20, 1999, as it sort of sets the mood:
"It was not in a greedy moment that you saw the light that belongs to everyone." -Jack Kerouac
Sneezing in eternity dawn finds me fading into catylipses. Growth fromt he night before shines like coal burning severed squalor into shining light. What is this ache, this longing for the ever-longed. The greed without recompense failing to fall in soft emergences. What is the thickness of this yearning for total, unrelaxed and unrelenting bliss. The idea of uncaring is not a cold one. Uncaring about the empty platitude and material beingness of fellow patriotic clouds. Uncaring NOT unfeeling NOT an inhibitive attempt to grasp that swirling shining ocean at the heart of the matter.
You could say joy, but words are too simple an expression. Trite songs issued forth from gilded throats of redundant song birds. You could say alive, but of course. You see the danger in differentiating between love & life. A self imposed schism leaves you empty and wanting for the full-to-bursting perpetual motion machine that is my soul.
m says "It's dangerous It's not a paper clip. It's a paper clip!" "Don't touch it now because it's dangerous. Sometimes lots of dogs and kitty cats. Dogs & kitty cats." Then bursts forth into a rhythmic babble of his own design. As if it is enough to be alive and outside in this grey morning of endless vision. And it is.
Out of nowhere appears a cat. Sitting close enough to announce his presence, but not close enough to make a committment. Birds are singing on telephone wires and snails are hiding in trees.
5/30/99
Drive in this blind time. Fingers penetrate darknesses to find space between and this is no joke no erstwhile happenstance this bursting. I rain fucking utopian busted glass and various Sunday shrapnel upon this world at large in small words large consequence convoluted to proclaim a windowless entry Fly through. Unapated. Unabashed & unrelated. An incidence behold forever a relentless prison of flesh forging forth into ether either here or there forget this troll forget this semblance lest we become another target on their radar. Can't shoot us down if can't find us flying, as we are, between muddled hope and addled acceptance. Praise with a longing. A forever, unsatiated unrelenting unending grin into eternity.
5/31/99
IBC Root Beer and Southern Fried Breast of Tofu Sandwich & somthing of a continuum of tired brain addled with thoughts of glory. What makes me feel so special as to deserve what I have. I'll take waht I can get. Cross between panicked feeling of desire to warm rush of contentment a cross between selfless and selfish. I step carefully, not wanting to upset the balance. Yet inside exclaiming in foolish unending exstasy. As if I can allow myself to be foolish enough to accept eternity! Instead, bliss of the chronic strap-on variety. The sheer appreciation for the namelessnes of the situation firmly divorced from my typical paranoid fantasies of same.
Yes Bliss is the word. Something approaching God but deemed sacrilege. And appetite forever in search of appeasement. And emotion sucked through skin with heay thick gulps, draoughts that are unrelenting in desire to force that sweetness down past lips teeth tongue press back through torat into esophagus gullet then, straining, bursting through all veins all veins and arteries breathing inside of meI drink. Breathing inside of me I consume until there is no reoom remaining for the dull flavor of mortal food. Nectar/ambrosia. I drink I ead I am satisfied
My soul/gropes for you/in darkness. I come/into light/you/shining like a fuckign oncoming train. I guess it's time to test that feeling of invincibility.
"Fucking Wings Burst Out of my Back" -Nick Cave
You were back by 11
Thin streaks of veins
Lining your sharp chin
I picture you tall
blank and handsome
6/2/99
"North, South, Mae West" -Thirwell
I'm gonna carry on, undeterred.
Writhing in oblivion
Springing fromt he depths the depths
coming forward to melt into this
sky-dream capacity
For what does this temptress how
and to whom/what end?
Gasp, clutch, drown
I'm wriggling beneath its weight
Struggling to know the
Difference.
Compassion is a twisted snare
To go about bleeding
A whore to abhor
Flesh, sizzled.
Come to think of it, I am
I am masquerading as this
Entropic entity
Barrelling down, guzzling
Full throttle and velvet throated.
Descending into disproportionate
Irony.
Come to think of it, this is
Just a body, a
Cast-iron cast off
Clad in ice-blue
whence comes the end.
Dying for a material struggle
Shuffling, I retreat.
If it helps to reclaim - it can't hurt forever I saw bleak shadows you there you...come off that razor blade and dance, willya? Just dance. I saw it, ironically. Through a gash in the linoleum. Twe eyes squinting from the floorboards and glinting yellow teeth.
6/2/99
Amazing what smiling/burning from the inside wil do. Cute boys galore today at campust store & I'm all goofy in love with life. Not choosing my victims carefully, I turn on charm for all to see and drop dead. It's fun to smile for effect and know all is OK all is in fun & whatever happnes is meant to be & not to care how kindness is being interpreted because really nothing matters. Ever. Especially not when I am so free.
But still bad moods brewing due to the one entity impinging on my freedom. Poor m does not mean it, but I let him. I do. I let him weigh me down. I allow myself to feel so weighted and, in so doing, cause strife for him, myself & others. Bargin in this afternoon with thoughts of war and hunger, I guess. To e lifted from this place this vulgar place that I am destined to spend the majority of my days remaining until freedom kicks my dope ass down again.
And I am tired. Need a shower to envigorate me/make me feel alive before bedtime.
Running hands
over ribs
Straining
to know the difference
5/3/99
Your ribs & I am stuck-sticking out and wasted. I see sideways - don't know anymore from this to another from one to another. Gleam atrocious forget night everyone knows better everyone blames better everyone deals another hand. Slamming this renegade vision into aspiration inspiration. RAgged joy w/unattested visionsong. Braced for knowledge - knowing I whisper I can't. I can't allude to this amorphic obstinance your betrayal begrudges and somehow I am ended reserving judgment into your bequeathed reamscape silly silly silly sweet.
Ruffle his hair my hand touches grin gleam DESIRE. Mad with a rage against dying this slodeath this descent into the prurient physical form malevolence. I shake shake see again.
Can it be a broken horizon? When this was forgiven I was forsaken I am forever grinning into this blackhole epiphany.
Somehow I wonder what all of these people are up to. The coffee boy has several women come to hit on him. His name is Colin and, apparently, he is a sexpot. The other is tattooed heavily, but cleancut. She works one day a week so she has more time to sew and "you know. Read." Her voice is affected. Ginger root will put hair on your chest to be sure. They all sound like disinterested people trying desparately to seem earnest.
He's going to be handfasted. Tired of his girlfriend. Since he was 15. High school. They are old and decrepit. Tired of her. He is a Star Wars fanatic. Earlier he had a girl earlier who was hanging on his words. He gave her Nyquil. He collects Star Wars stuff. Has been for 15 years. She left to get him a Star Wars pizza box and "every Star Wars cup in town." His hair covers his face. He looks very young. His newly arrived friends are leaving. It is strange to feel so alone in such a large city.
6/4/99
This is a test worthy of attrition. Santify a brutal leverage into gasmanypod resistance. The futility of an angel, struggling in recesses a popped tothe, a cramped dove a holding inward to force outward through crevices and devices.
You are free to run and I pity/envy you your freedom. Your liberty is a twine, unraveling slowly. I bake in hot sun, thirsting for equivalence.
Valence shade drop out. Bring me wrists and ankles. A vital hold to be stolen. Entwined around this nothing waist like a snake coiled coiled coiled strike.
Fumes are a bitter element to lay to waste. And passive is a word that denies acceptance. Folded on
"And it ain't gonna rain anymore"
Across the wires we were holding hands. I saw you I see you I love you I love you.
Beneath me is this stump of a body. It feels malignant and cold compared to the soaring state of souleternal bliss forever and ever rolling over and over.
When is this an end to absolution. I feel a guard. To know I have made all the right decisions makes me feel free to be so ferever tied to a trunk, roots. Let leaves fall where they may.
Got my thoughts, they are all wrapped. They are all wound around your waist like laurel leaves. They follow you in your conquest and prod you forward into an abyss filled with so many unknowing uncaring. I bite my lips to know that I have sent you these, but know it is the only way to be.
6/5/99
Awake into a crusted over, there are attestments that symbolize my worthiness. I shine in armor, shine in rags. Rend forever droning in a time, a tie forgotten. Singe to stuped to supple and all in between to become this pseudo appetite intensive care.
Sop, Slop-flop on the floor, ragdoll-style until there is this bitter weight in between crushed between walls of remorse/no remorse/bitter appathy. I call you zoo. Can't see you anymore.
Hello. I remember
When you used to
have a soul.
I remember you
Your soul was
Huge
It swallowed mine I
kept clinging clinging
to that whale's tial hoping
Eternity
Instead,
days later regurgitated
splat on floor
liquid chunks of
light and embryo
Gouge out your eyes
So I can slip past
the emergency sensors
Take up residence in
That space that was
less heart more
everything
less bloodheatpassion
More lightblindnothing
eternal bliss stuff
Is what I would desire
I dreamed I lived there
again.
For who/what do you
exist now?
Is it gross egotism to wish
I could be in your life again
Not
in this distorted, present
State of affairs
Yet again
more real more
painful more
like before
More.
Validation is good
May 30, 2002
Today, at Megan's, as I was once again trying to redirect c away from one of the few dangerous/forbidden devices in her home, she turned to me and said "Wow...you really do have your work cut out for you, don't you."
Now, to some, this might sound like an insult. To me, it was total validation that, yes, indeed...I have a somewhat challenging toddler. It took a whole entire load off of my shoulders just hearing it.
Thanks, Megan.
For Love or Money
May 30, 2002
A Wednesday in my life...
May 30, 2002
read about it here
A Wednesday in My Life
May 30, 2002
I was going to do this yesterday, but it was way too pitiful...(not that today was anything spectacular, but at least we didn't spend all day arguing)
8:30 AM
Both kids wake up at the same time as me. We loll for a bit in bed, enjoying the breezes. This is really early for m to wake up, and really late for c and me to wake up, so I decide that we should do something fun.
8:45 AM
The kids are dressed, and so am I. m has on his pads and helmet, and we grab his skateboard and head for the tennis courts. Today is the day m is going to learn to use his skateboard!
9:00 AM
It's been difficult going on the way to the tennis courts. m is already ready to give up because the "wheels don't roll good" on his skateboard. He's having a difficult time getting any momentum going. Can I let you in on a little secret? m's not exactly the most athletic kid you will meet. I'm trying to help him do more regular kid stuff like ride his bike and play soccer and tag and stuff, but it takes him awhile to catch on. It's cool with me, though. His extreme cautiousness has made him a really easy kid to take care of, and now that we have mr. evil knieval himself (c) around to stir things up, it's nice to not have to chase after two daredevils. Anyway, I decide that I'm not really qualified to actually TEACH him how to skateboard (since I've actually never skated myself, and I'm not about to try to figure it out while I'm wearing the baby in the backpack) but I figure I can at least help him with his balance. So I encourage him to keep trying to stand on the deck, and I push and/or pull him around the tennis courts. I think the longest he manages to roll without jumping or falling off is about 15 seconds, but he ends up having a great time doing this, and I'm sure we will do it again. I do want to find someone to show him the proper way to skate, though...
10:00 AM
We're home now. c's eating peanuts and raisins. m says he's not hungry. I'm eating some raisin bran. The dog is standing next to c, waiting for him to drop something or hand something to her to eat. I scoot her out of the house and give her some dog food, which she completely spurns.
10:30 AM
I'm in the midst of doing dishes and laundry. c and m are playing happily together. It's nice, but m keeps doing nasty things to c. I'll turn my back, and c will start crying, and m will immediately say "I didn't do it." This happens frequently lately. I've been having to send m to his room a lot lately. He can't even blame it on not getting any attention, because he's been getting a whole ton of attention lately. So, I'm not sure what it's all about. I send him to his room, but I try not to make it a punishment. It's really a place for m to cool down and concentrate on something else. One thing I've realized, especially with the TV being dead, is that m uses us as his playthings. When he's bored, he will start jumping on me or L or c as a means of entertainment. It does no good to try to distract him or get him to stop, because he gets so out of control that he's unable to stop. But if I put him in his room gently, without making it sound like a punishment, he will start to play with his toys in there and he will not be bored anymore, so the bad behavior stops. Usually he won't even come out when I ask him to. I just have to try to help him keep his room picked up...because what happens is he ends up pulling down all of his thousands of toys at once and then he doesn't want to go in his room anymore.
10:45 AM
I start melting some soap to make some laundry detergent.
11:00
We read Hooray For Diffendoofer Day by Dr. Seuss. Play-doh is pulled down. m plays for a little while. c grabs a handful of dough and walks around alternating between huffing it and eating it. He literally had a huge hunk of play-doh held up to his nose, and he was SNORTING it. argh. Meanwhile, m was mixing all of the colors together to create that purplish brown color that is so appealling. I try, I really do, I try to get the kids to play with modeling beeswax instead of play-doh. They will have nothing to do with it.
11:30
The floor has been swept, and m pulls all of the blankets and pillows on to the floor to make a little nest for him and c to pretend to take a nap. I sneak into the kitchen to start to make lunch while they do this.
noon
Lunch is ready. I've made a sort of pasta concoction. I initially had wanted to just have fucilli with pasta sauce, but the sauce was moldy, so I just tossed the pasta in with a can of diced tomatoes, a half can of garbanzos, some basil, garlic, and salt. It's really yummy and the kids eat it up.
12:30
I read a couple more books to m, and then retreat to the bedroom to give c Me-me's and naptime. We read a story from the Golden book of bedtime stories, m leaves the room, and c and I nurse and drift off to sleep.
LADIES AND GENTLEMAN, HERE IS WHERE i TAKE AN UNPRECEDENTED TWO AND A HALF HOUR NAP!!!!!!!!!
3:00 pm
You would think I would wake up refreshed, but no. I wake up to find that I'm on the rag. And I'm fucking grouchy. And crampy. And here's L trying to justify his assholic behavior of last night.
Look. Here's the deal. Without going into the sordid details of my relationship with L...I have to say that it's ultimately one of the most frustrating thing that someone who knows me as well as he does sometimes has absolutely no clue about who I am as a core individual. And it's at the very moment that he knows the least that he insists he knows the most. And every fucking time he gets called on some bullshit or other that he does, he feels like he has to fucking assassinate my character. It sucks. It's infrequent, but it sucks. It sucks mostly because it used to be very very frequent and it's now under control. But to come to me the next day with a false cheery attitude, saying "hey...what's up?" like there couldn't possibly be anything the matter is just fucked up. Especially when I'm on the rag and not wanting to deal with anyone's bullshit.
So, whatever, here is where L and I argue for a bit about last night's argument. Not a fun way to spend the afternoon, but...whatever.
3:30
I check my e-mail and find that the picnic has been relocated to the house of the bossy boss because there's like a .0000004% chance of rain. I'm pretty ticked about this because there is just NO WAY I want to hang out in the house of someone who doesn't have children with mr. thousand hands himself. I consider calling her and whining about it, but I think better of it.
4:00 PM
More stories are read. Snacks are served. I run out to the store to pick up some stuff for the picnic.
4:30 PM
I'm reading a little to myself, c is throwing a ball around. m is alternating between acting like a really sweet kid and doing shit like SITTING ON the baby. What the fuck is up with that?
5:00 PM
I declare to L that I am NOT bringing c with me to the picnic if he's not coming with. It's just too stressful. He agrees to watch him.
5:30 PM
m and I leave for the picnic. We get to bossy boss's house to discover that the picnic has been re-re-located to it's original outdoor location. Grumble grumble bitch moan whine.
6:00 PM
We're at the park, m's playing on the playscape, I'm eating the Kung Pao tofu that bossy boss bought for me to eat in lieu of the barbecue. There's really nothing for m to eat except for fruit and chips, but that's probably my fault, so I don't bitch about it. m doesn't seem to care, anyway. He's content with his watermelon and with playing with random children who venture on to the playground.
I enjoy some conversations with some of the people who are there. I actually end up having a way better time than I thought I would have.
8:30 PM
We leave for home. Or, rather, we leave for the bookstore. I have promised m that today is the day we buy his books. I asked him which bookstore he wants to go to and he asks me "which one is less expensive?" That's my boy! We go to the used book store. m chooses his two books immediately upon hitting the children's section. Then he chooses a book for c. It takes me an inexorable amount of time to choose some books for L. I'm such a forgiving person. I know this will be the death of me. He really doesn't deserve the books any more than he deserves the 100 pounds or so of barbecue that my boss has sent me home with for him.
9:30 PM
We arrive home. L delights in the meat that I have dragged home for him. m has a snack of peanuts and a tortilla. I eat the rest of my tofu. We read from his new books, and I discover that the dinosaur book that I got him is a work of "creationist science" or whatever. I can't figure out if I should ignore the God references, or if I should just read it, or if I should tell m what I think of the whole thing. I sort of choose a combination.
10:00
m goes to bed without putting up any fight at all. I log on and surf for a long time. I really should be working out, but I'm on the rag, so I don't want to. And that's my perogative. So fuck you.
hahahahhahhahaha
I'll probably make some bread before I go to bed. Or maybe I won't. What's it to you, anyway.
Hooray For Diffendoofer Day by Dr. Seuss (with help from Jack Prelutsky & Lane Smith
May 29, 2002
What a cool book this is. Published posthumously from notes and sketches fleshed out by Prelutsky and Smith. The book reminds us that children learn just fine when they are allowed to learn in freedom and with fun. You can visit a website about the book here.
Jawbreaker: Unfun
May 29, 2002
One of my absolute all-time favorites. "Want" was the first Jawbreaker song I ever heard, on a mix tape that my friend Gar made for me many many years ago:
Want----
Been staring for a hundred hours.
Run down a spiral drain.
Keep mouth clamped tight, and it isn't right.
Three words keep running 'round my mind,
But my tongue is hard to find.
I need to let it go, because I know.
Dark secrets burn their vessel.
Tearing out to grab a mouthful.
Chunk of heart destroyed by quiet.
Yell it out before it kills you now.
Let it all out.
Used to let rumors do my work.
They got around real well.
Now they only hurt.
It's a liar's quirk.
This time I gotta say it straight.
I mean to do some good.
I'm calling out your name
While the chance remains.
I want you.
So now you know where I come from.
My secret's come undone.
My heart revealed my cause.
I'm lying naked at your feet.
Don't crush the heart that bleeds.
Take me at my word.
It may sound absurd,
But I want you.
The rest of the album is equally up to par, with the scratchy vocals that I think I remember hearing almost fucked up the lead singer's voice forever. This is just plain old good emo.
But on a Lighter Note...
May 29, 2002
m has cracked the code! I came home tonight to find out that my little man is reading! READING! I mean, he's been threatening to for months now, but tonight he read a book to L and a book to c and read a few paragraphs to me.
The funny thing is that he's not at all hesitant like most people who are just learning to read. He's sight reading entire words. He's NOT sounding them out. I'm pretty sure he has a lot of words just memorized, and that's how he's doing it. I'm also pretty sure that my suspicion that he has known how to read for some time, but was waiting to have it perfected before he "came out", is completely accurate.
I guess I haven't been concerned about "teaching" him how to read, so I haven't really read any books or articles about how kids learn this stuff, but I'm curious about what it means that he seems to not be reading phonetically. It would be nice to understand how his brain works. I know he has an extraordinary memory, so that's why I'm thinking he has a whole bunch of words memorized. But isn't that how I read? I mean, I don't usually sound a word out phonetically unless it's my first encounter with that word.
Oh, well. I'm just so excited for the little guy. What an amazing journey he has begun! We're going out tomorrow to get him the book of his choice at the book store.
Yay, m!
Here's Me. Feeling Really Fucking Cynical. Listening to Nick Cave. Not a Good Combination.
May 29, 2002
I Let Love In
by Nick Cave
Despair and Deception, Love's ugly little twins
Came a-knocking on my door, I let them in
Darling, you're the punishment for all of my former sins
I let love in
I let love in
The door it opened just a crack, but Love was shrewed and bold
My life flashed before my eyes, it was a horror to behold
A life-sentence sweeping confetti from the floor of a concrete hole
I let love in
I let love in
I let love in
I let love in
Well I've been bound and gagged and I've been terrorized
And I've been castrated and I've been lobotomized
But never has my tormenter come in such a cunning disguise
I let love in
I let love in
I let love in
I let love in
O Lord, tell me what I done
Please don't leave me here alone
Where are my friends?
My friends are gone
O Lord, tell me what I done
Please don't leave me here alone
Where are my friends?
My friends are gone
I let love in
I let love in
So if you're sitting all alone and hear a-knocking at you door
and the air is full of promises, well buddy, you've been warned
Far worse to be Love's lover than the lover that Love has scorned
I let love in
I let love in
I let love in
I let love in
I let love in
I let love in
I let love in
I let love in
Cool new cooperative blog
May 28, 2002
Pea's collecting activist mamas to post to lifeafterbirth.org. So, get on over there!
Women of the Beat Generation by: Brenda Knight
May 28, 2002
Haven't even cracked it yet, but I'm sure it will be a good read.
I can hardly believe it.
May 28, 2002
It's actually RAINING outside. Thunder and lightning, too. I better turn the computer off and go to sleep so I can watch the storm!
Help Me Out, Here...
May 28, 2002
Can someone tell me how this (particularly the bolded session) excerpt from the editorial of this month's Mothering Magazine can be viewed as anything other than completely racist? I've been stewing about it all day:
The woman searching my purse is sweet and demure and notices my conversation with a man being searched at the adjoining counter. "They search me every time I fly," he says, "and I fly once a week for work. No job is worth this." He believes that he fits some profile and is often searched both at the security check-in and at the gate. "The newspapers say that people are afraid to fly. They're not afraid to fly. They hate this," he says, motioning around the security check-in area. He storms away. The searching woman is disturbed by his comments and remarks that she is only doing her job. I am in line to board when a man near me is chosen to be searched. He looks a bit overdressed and flashy but certainly not dangerous. The man beside me in line, whom I have secretly befriended because he looks Middle Eastern, makes a sound of disapproval with his tongue as if to suggest that the man being searched was in some way responsible. I'm surprised at how easily the man beside me participates in this atmosphere of suspicion.
Griffin and Sabine by Nick Bantock
May 27, 2002
OK, so I'm probably the last person on earth to actually read this book. I think L picked up the first two in this series for me many moons ago, and he recently BEGGED me to read them, saying that they were incredible, which is quite a compliment coming from the original cynic himself. But he's right. This is amazing.
While reading this, I'm so drawn to the idea of starting to write pen and ink letters again - with doodles in the margin. I was never a fan of mail art, because it always came across mass produced and impersonal, but this book is the most touching and beautiful form of mail art imaginable. Amazing read. Inspiring read. I Might just have to dig up a pen and some paint and start doodling.
And the Day Just Keeps Getting Better
May 27, 2002
There I was, innocently glancing at the computer screen while at the same time attempting to wash a load of diapers, monitor the children (who were happily and busily engaged in other activities) and clean up the bedroom when in walks L and says those 6 words I love to hear:
"Didn't you have someplace to go?"
I think I was out the door before he finished asking the question. Damnit, I love that man.
Die Cast Garden!
May 27, 2002
Yay! The 1983 issue of Die Cast Garden is out! Make sure you read Allyson's journal piece. It proves that she was even cool in junior high school. And she just gets cooler every year!
I'm afraid to reread my interview...but you can read it and then e-mail to me to tell me what a total nerd I am.
My Son is so Cool
May 27, 2002
Well folks, an important milestone has been reached.
Today, for the first time ever, I went to a coffee shop with my son, and we both lay draped on the retro couches, READING. He brought along Cloudy With a Chance of Meatballs, I brought along Cool Beans. He had lemonade, I had a huge mug of coffee. He had a sesame seed bagel, I had a poppy seed bagel. And we read for a good hour before he started to get a little impatient. And then we sat on the comfy couch and talked. I had my arm around him for awhile, and then he sat in my lap. And we just had the best time.
c was at home with papa. Mostly sleeping. m was very happy to be out of the house without his annoying baby brother hogging all of the attention.
I just love flightpath. It's my weekly haunt. I'm so glad to see that business is good, because for awhile there, it almost tanked. Good old fashioned coffee houses need to be supported. Flightpath is one of the best in Austin. Spacious and clean with local art on the walls and comfy couches and chairs scattered throughout. Just a great atmosphere.
I'm so glad that I can now share it with my son. We had a fantastic time, just hanging out. I couldn't ask for a better way to spend a holiday.
weird
May 27, 2002
Does anyone feel like explaining to me why the ENTIRE history of my posts is displayed on the main index page? I have it set to display 7 days.
I'm going back to sleep.
Um, you and me are free to be COMPUTER free?
May 27, 2002
It looks like I'm going to have to return the laptop so it can be used for a class. So I either have to fix my freaking desktop, or be computer free for awhile.
I mean, I have access up the wazoo at work, but what the hell am I going to do when I wake up at 4 AM and feel the urge to blog?
I guess I can read books. Books are nice. I can always write in my journal and translate to blog when I get to work...if I can actually remember how to hold a pen.
*sigh* I knew this would have to happen eventually. At least my crampy fingers will be thankful.
Little Bear by Else Holmelund Minarik
May 27, 2002
What can I say about this book? I've been BEGGING m to let me read it to him again for weeks now, and tonight he blessed me by putting it in the huge stack of books he dragged out for me to read.
It's just that Mother Bear is so fucking cool. Nothing fazes her. She is always patient and kind with Little Bear, and she never gripes at Father Bear for never being there to give her some time to herself. Plus she always seems to be able to get other stuff done. Sewing, cooking, cleaning, reading, cake fucking baking(!).
I want to be Mother Bear.
Or, actually...if you think about this a little deeper...maybe I want to be Little Bear.
Teach Me About Relatives and Let's Talk About Being Careless by Joy Berry
May 27, 2002
L found a whole set of these books at a thrift store maybe? Or maybe they were in a dumpster somewhere. I don't know.
The thing is, to read these books, you actually need to do some preparation. They are pretty OK for opening up discussion, but you have to edit out crap like "Your Daddy has a father, Your Daddy's father is your Grandfather" (L never knew his father, and I'm sure there are plenty of other kids out there who don't have one grandparent or another.)
This line from "being careless" really irks me: "No one will get hurt, and nothing will get broken if you play carefully." What the FUCK? Is there no such thing as accidents. This may seem like a tiny issue, but you really don't need to heap this sort of subliminal guilt onto a child.
So, anyway, we use them to spark discussions, and m is old enough to where I can read the right words and then talk to him about why that might not necessarily be true. And we got them for free or cheap, so I can't complain about them not being worth the money...and m actually likes them. Go figure. (He also likes Curious George and Put Me in the Zoo, so...I mean...come ON!)
Put Me in the Zoo by Robert Lopshire
May 27, 2002
Can I just go on record right now and say that I absolutely cannot stand this book. It's right up there with Curious George on my most loathed books list. OK, first of all...why would any creature WANT to be in a zoo? And, um, second...why would any creature want to be in a CIRCUS.
I'm going to go hide this one behind the dresser. It can make love to the curious George book that's back there, and maybe they will spawn a revolutionary child.
Bedtime is a Bitch
May 27, 2002
Lately we've been struggling with bedtime. I say we, when I actually mean c, the 19 month old. m's been doing fine, provided I work hard to get him up at a decent hour in the morning (that boy will sleep until noon if I don't gently rouse him at around 9 or so).
c is driving me insane. Last night he was almost completely asleep on my shoulder. Floppy asleep. And the minute I lay down with him, he started babbling and wiggling. I've spent a frustrated past few evenings laying there with him for hours, trying to coax him into sleep. Tonight I just said "urgh! enough!" and got out of bed. He followed me into the living room, demanded to be held, got all floppy again...repeat previous. I think we did this two or three times before I finally just said "OK, everyone to bed." This has been happening 2-3 times a week for a couple of weeks now.
So that is why I've been making these 4 AM blog entries. Because what happens is *I* fall asleep. The dog has been left outside (and is now gone! I'm hoping she's in the garage.) there is popcorn on the floors, my "after the children go to bed" chores remain undone. I feel somewhat refreshed, but groggy, and I'm eating last night's popcorn which is now stale.
This really really frustrates me, ANGERS me...even though I know it shouldn't. I'm not sure why I rebel so hard against these days when there is so little me time. I'm like a freaking pit bull guarding the perimeter of this invisible force field called "mama time." I'm telling you, I am ruthless.
But, you know...the other day it struck me. Hard. That one day the kids won't be babies anymore. One day, not only will they be old enough to entertain themselves, but they will want nothing at all to do with playing with their stinky old mommy. One day I will have more free time than I will know what to do with. I WILL be able to lounge around at the book store, reading magazines and sipping chai. I WILL be able to go see bands play. I WILL be able to stay up late late late at night because I WON'T have to wake up first thing in the morning to a hungry, wet, excited-about-life baby who just wants to go go go. One day, time will flow from the ass of the universe like the proverbial goose's golden eggs.
I look at those two sleeping forms in the bed. One of which is almost able to stretch completely across width-wise, he's getting so tall, and I wonder what the fuck is it that I'm complaining about.
I have two sweet sweet boys, and tomorrow we are going to play play play!
Ring around the rosey, anyone?
The Best of Rodney on the ROQ
May 26, 2002
From the quintessential summer smoking dope album (spiritualized) to just a general all around rocking summer love fest (ROTR). This CD contains some of my favorite way back golden punk oldies. You can view the song list yourself, if you'd like - 25 classics. Some of my favorites are "The Kids Are Alright" by the Calamaties, "Bloodstains" by Agent Orange, "Amoeba" by Adolescents, "Wild in the Streets" by Circle Jerks, "Clean Cut American Kid" by Ill Repute, and "Pushin' Too Hard" by The Klan.
Oh, those poor, marginalized, cattle"men"
May 26, 2002
Cattlemen crying foul over basketball change
Why do I get the feeling that if the cattle"men" had it their way (pardon the multinational reference) it would be illegal to be vegetarian.
What I like to do with articles like these is replace words to turn the focus around. I mean, really, aren't the cattlemen the real extremists here? Just because you hold the viewpoint of the majority doesn't mean you aren't extremist.
I love how the cattle"men" are so outraged that PETA might have influenced the decision to switch to sythetic materials...and yet they are interested in influencing the decision in the opposite direction. You can't sling those arrows unless you are willing to dodge them when they come right back atchya.
You and Me are Free to be TV Free
May 26, 2002
Well, like I mentioned before, the TV has died. I didn't even have to kill it. So now the kids have gone about a week without any electronic visual media (since the computer is also dead) and, although it would be really nice to have something to distract the children for 30 minutes while I zone, I'm enjoying it. It feels better. The children (well, m really...because c wasn't much into the TV anyway) are playing more imaginative games. They're playing together more. We're reading more. It's not likely that we will be purchasing another TV in the near future. The computer is definitely first priority, and we don't really even have the money to fix that.
It is, all in all, a good thing. I have my tiny laptop set up on top of a shelf and every once in awhile I walk by and surf a random site in the midst of our playing. We're hanging in.
But, damn, it would be nice to watch JUST ONE VIDEO.
hahaha old addictions die hard, I guess.
Tribe 8
May 26, 2002
For anyone who has never listened to Tribe 8...you should. Particularly the song "Wrong Bathroom" from the Album Snarkism, which is about being mistaken for a man in the ladies room and contains the lyric:
"I'm having bladder burst while you ponder gender!"
Too too too rich.
By the way, while surfing for a link to the album cover, I discovered gayMART. Way fucking cool
Cool Beans! #13 The SF Eviction Issue
May 26, 2002
I don't think we got the free cd with this, because i"m pretty sure we got it used. For more information, go to the Cool Beans website.
Warning...the entry is not for the faint of heart...do not read while eating
May 26, 2002
Today on my way to work, I was annoyed by an itchy spot in my boot. I wasn't wearing socks, so I assumed that there was a random tag in my boot, or a misplaced cracker. Or a pebble. Since I was driving, I ignored it the best I could and proceeded on to work. By the time I got to work, I had forgotten about it, but was reminded soon thereafter and set to work taking off my boot. I untied and unravelled the laces and pulled off my boot to find a (barely) living cockroach (one of the big, texas-sized ones) gasping for life, stuck to my foot in a most unappealing way. Of course, I screamed, threw my shoe across the room, and hopped about flicking my foot around and shouting "Ew! Fuck! Ew! Fuck! EW!" Thankfully, I was the only one there...or I would have felt both foolish and disgusted.
While we're on the subject of cockroaches (and since I know you must be at this moment packing your bags to move to Texas, just so you can experience the sheer and utter joy of sharing a household with these fascinating creatures) I had an encounter the other morning with a young upstart roach. We had been roach free (for the most part) all winter and spring and suddenly they were/are freaking EVERYWHERE! Anyway, L and I have been going Rambo with the peppermint Dr. Bronner's spray and the other morning while doing the dishes, I spied a bronner's refugee hiding behind some dishes by the sink. I was filling the sink with soapy water to do the dishes when I started to assault the fucker with the peppermint spray. This guy was small, but hardy...and he managed to survive the initial assault. He kept running towards the sink in which I had started soaking some dishes in soapy water and I kept driving him back. Finally, he ran lamely (and I assumed he died) behind the fountain that now resides in the sink corner. I began to wash the dishes, lulled into complacency by the apparent success of my attack. When, suddenly, like Jason returning yet again from certain death, my nemesis scurried from behind the fountain and committed what could only be called a very effective suicide bombing strike by diving headlong into my soapy dishwater.
Certainly the children thought mama had finally gone completely insane as I muttered a string of explatives, emptied the sink of dishes, fished the fucking pest out...and then emptied and disinfected the sink with tea tree oil before refilling the sink and finishing the dishes.
Man, I hate those fucking roaches!
Diet For A Small Planet
May 25, 2002
I didn't know they had a website.
Cool Mamas
May 25, 2002
I had the opportunity to hang out with some awesome mamas today. I picked up Megan and brought her over to Danielle's house and we hung out in Danielle's living room and plotted the revolution.
It's so nice to be able to talk to other mamas without having to explain myself. These women were right on it. The subjects discussed veered from breastfeeding to race issues to attachment parenting to the medical establishment to size issues and on and on and each of us had something to contribute that was worthwhile. Who the fuck is it that says that all mamas ever talk about is their children? If it's you, perhaps you are simply not interesting enough to have a decent conversation with us.
So, anyway. Anyone who reads this with any regularity probably knows that Megan is like my hero and stuff. Danielle is not far behind. Sometimes I find it difficult to keep from exclaiming "FUCK yeah!" when I'm talking to someone inspiring. I had to fight back this urge several times listening to Danielle talk. And whenever I hang with Megan, I feel like my brain is expanding. She just coaxes these intense conversations, usually about childhood issues and how they relate to our experience as parents, that nurture my growth and well-being. I came home today feeling like I had had a great therapy session AND a couple semesters of college education.
Another thing that makes Megan way rad in my book is that she has such strong opinions about things, but she doesn't get all defensive about being disagreed with. She has a thick skin. We went round and round today on the subject of sexism and how it compares or dovetails with the oppression of children. I think Danielle and I were sort of in agreement that sexism plays a big role in how women treat (or mistreat) their children. This is important, because a lot of what we want to do is challenge people's opinions about how children are treated, and educate people on alternative parenting choices. Megan thinks that we shouldn't pair children and mothers under the same umbrella of oppression. That sexism is way less toxic than the nameless -ism that children encounter (and it's telling that there isn't even a word for it - or is there?). That children are nearly completely helpless to counteract the oppression that is foisted upon them. I agree with her, but I also feel that upgrading the status of women, or leveling the playing field, will contribute a great deal to the status of children. In the end, we agreed that any direct action we take should take into account that for many issues, we are addressing the mother, since the child is not the one who is making the choices about things like breastfeeding.
I mean, it makes sense that someone who feels powerless in the world is going to seek someone or something to have power over, right? And who better to wield power over than someone who is completely helpless to defend themself from you. I know that I struggle with this as a parent on a regular basis. There is definitely an imbalance of power in my relationship with my kids, and I have to consciously think about if and how I'm abusing that imbalance...and frequently correct myself for doing so.
However, it's also important to target direct action towards children. One of the most powerful things that Megan always brings up is the importance of validating an abused child's feelings. The simple act of scrawling graffiti that states "it is NEVER ok to hit a child." can have a profound effect on the soul of a child who is being abused. A child who might think that it is ok. Normal. To be hit. If only there was a simple statement that could counteract subtle, chronic emotional abuse. We're working on it.
The biggest challenge is educating without alienating. That's something we need to keep in mind. Because many, many women feel alienated by the system that provides them with choices, and then constantly questions their decisions. Issues like working vs. staying at home, breast vs. bottle, cloth vs. plastic are so totally volatile. I think the best tactic is to come at it from the angle of protecting the child and/but you can't rally for children by treading on their mamas. Gently, surely, resolutely. Education is the answer.
I'm really looking forward to stirring shit up with these fine ladies.
Have I Already Raved About this Blog?
May 24, 2002
I think she's the shit. She doesn't seem to have permalinks, but today's entry is absolutely beautiful.
Lavender Bath
May 24, 2002
I am reinstating bath night. For a long time, my weekly Thursday ritual was to come home from work, clean the bathroom thoroughly, then soak by candlelight in a lavender bath. I'm off work on Friday, so Thursday is sort of like my Friday, if that makes sense. This week, especially, I need to cleanse away all of the bad feelings and helplessness of the week.
I hope I'm not breaking any code of ethics by blogging about this, but I'm really worried about one of my clients. She has been breaking down in tears in the middle of the class every day for 2 or 3 weeks now. On Monday, she mentioned suicide to me. She said "I'm feeling like I'm going to kill myself."
Luckily, I work with an ex-social worker, and he's been helping me help her and myself. It's stressful for me. I worry about her, and I have so many little triggers that go off when someone starts talking about suicide. I know I am completely not in control of what another person decides to do, but I still worry. I'm mostly worried about this person because we are closed for a week as of today, and she does not have any friends and I know our class was getting her out and into social situations and perhaps helping to distract her from her problems.
But I gave her the number to "first call for help" and the number to a suicide helpline that the ex-social worker gave me. She already had this information. She assured me on Wednesday that she wasn't going to do anything stupid.
Today I walked in and she was in tears and having trouble breathing. I sat next to her and took deep breaths with her and put my hand on her shoulder. (It's amazing, but in all of my years of corporate training I was brainwashed into thinking that touching people was totally taboo, but my clients seem to love being touched. I had to get over a lot of fear before I started doing it, and I still feel a little apprehensive about it, but no one has ever asked me to not touch them...perhaps I just have an intuition about who I should and should not touch) She had a setback in some legal trouble she's been having and she feels helpless. What more could I do for her? What more could she do?
At the end of the class period, I was going around the room talking to people about what they wanted to do next. Did they want to re-take the beginner level class, move up to intermediate, or just use us for drop in self-paced learning. When I got to her, I was certain she had said previously (quite emphatically) that she wants to take the intermediate class. Today, she simply said "If I'm still around." or something vaguely ominous.
What can I do. I told her that I think she will do well in the intermediate class. Then I talked to the ex-social worker to see if there was more I could do. He said that I could call the police if she said anything concrete about killing herself, but I thought that was extreme. I have done all that I can. I'm dreading opening our doors on June 3 to find that she is not there. That she will never be back.
May 22-May 28, 1993
May 24, 2002
From a journal with the cover torn off...Remembering my brother's wedding in Butte, Montana.
5/22/1993 7:00 PM
Got to see D- on Thurs. after all. Got home early from San Antonio. His life's not going so well for him. A- shit and whatnot. We agreed to go work out together. He showed up at my house all slumped over and I made him smile and laugh. We hugged and hugged and it was beautiful. And we went and worked out and then cruised to Kerbey Lane for a tasty meal. Laughing over tortilla chips shaped like Montana and goofing.
5/27/1993 8:23 PM (Mountain time)
In Montana hotel room rain on window that view mountains picturesque. Geared up - leaving Sunday instead of Monday so a full day's rest between home and work and time to play. Made a date with A- for Monday night. Movies. He will pick me up at the airport. Need to refocus.
Went out for dinner with J- last night. J- and L-. And J- says he would move into a 3-bedroom with us. That should help.
Anyway - recap time. Catching up.
Lately
All life seen as a crawling
back into that eternal womb
a womb that constricts
rather than comforts
the trauma of birth
and pain
relived
again and again
Traumamania
There is a word for you
but it does you little
justice
Words are empty promises
and a touch can be a threat
and all action seems redundant
So I will sit and wait
for forever to roll over
turn itself in
and regale in yr
presence
The things I utter
seem
empty and crass;
a futile attempt at
giving someone somethng
that they need
But don't want.
Vulnerability saddens me
Because I could never
take advantage
as they do.
I want to cure
but
there's not enough love
to stitch the wounds.
5/28/93
Matthew -
Climbing mountains in Montana - out of breath I reach a clearnig, sit down and write and breathe and breathe to write to you. The air smells like berries and the wind in the trees sounds like water - the ocean - the waves. They sway. I am sitting on the ground near a road. Alone. My mom waits for me in the car. Too old to climb and play. Departing words "You go by yourself for as long as you want." Me:"But what if there's a wild mountain man up here?" She:"'ll point him in your direction." The sun comes out and it feels good to be alone, but I wish someone was here to share with me. I get up to walk some more.
To shade and where it smells like pine. Afraid to go too far as I'm not navigationally inclined. And so I sta close. John's buff friends are supposed to take me hiking tomorrow. I overestimated my aerobic condition. The air is thin and I gasp for breath. Probably at least somewhat due to my mom's chain smoking. But I'll risk it. I've been working out every other day at the gym - It'll be nice to get an outdoor workout. I lean back against a tree. Heavenly. I need this. This "away." Austin is heavy. My life, although good, is becoming fairly complex. This away is good. Would be better without the family - but the family was my excuse. I'm saving my money for a REAL away. Me and my dog in a solitudinous cabin somewhere in Texas. The hill country? Somewhere. I have a long way to go before I have enough $$ saved, so I haven't started planning yet.
The complexities. A- and I have decided to be autonomous. Which actually means that we are no longer romantically involved at all. I met someone who filled some needs that I didn't even realize were so important. Things like going to the park and playing on swings, holding my hand and nuzzling my neck in public. A- is a wonderful person, but not my soulmate. D- is beautiful - but so young. He's 19. I was his first kiss. I try to keep it in perspective. I am kind to him. It is what he deserves. I am setting myself up to be hurt. It changes by the second. One second it saddens me, the next I am overwhelmed with joy. Have you ever felt this way, my Matthias? I don't know that I have, but it feels so familiar.
I am getting a headache - time to head back down.
In the hotel room. I successfully avoided the rehearsal dinner and lay in here answering mail and watching cheesy anti-drug propaganda on cable. Fun, but much more fun in solitude at last. Me here alone. It's been awhile since I've had time to myself and I've been able to put some things in perspective from a distance. It is good.
Well, Matt. I'm still waiting for the letter you owe me. And when are you going to make it down to Austin so I can smoosh you and give you a big old kiss? I miss you. I love you dearly. You mean more to me than family or Friend or lover.
livelifelove
Drucilla
5/28/93 9:45 PM
Things for a distance - gaining perspectives not possible to obtain up close. Today climbed the mountain and wrote that letter to Matt. Wrote answered lots of mail. The solitude is nice. Avoiding my family. For which I feel somewhat guilty, but lately too much time spent on other people and now a need to retreat back into myself. Would be nice. On Sunday I do not know what I will be doing.
I bite my nails down. This is not good. Need to stop. I've been feeling a little sick all day - in the stomach. Mom says it's altitude sickness. I think it's a case of the "Leave me THE FUCK alone's" But she claims John is picking me up at 7 AM to go 4-wheeling...and the wedding starts at 4, but we have to be there by 2 for pictures and the wedding will last for two hours. ACK. I wonder how rude it would be to write in my journal during the ceremony. What a pain in the ass. Nyeesh. I know for sure now that I'm getting hitched in the church of Elvis. At least that would be entertaining.
Making good headway in this journal so far. Lots to write this month and I'm not being that much of a detail freak.
I could probably very easily get a huge crush on J- if I didn't know he is a heartbreaker and completely immature. Oh well. Maybe I should try this dating more than one person thing.
Conflict Girl Speaks
May 23, 2002
She is so insightful. Thank you, Holly.
I'm Johnny and I Don't Give a Fuck Zine #3
May 23, 2002
image stolen from more goat than goose
I've read this a few times before and I'll probably read it a few more times, until it falls apart. The issue that follows this is a big perfect-bound affair. This issue is at least 60 1/4 size pages detailing the life and times of a punk rocker in Canada. So so so so cool. Not sure if you can find this anymore, but if you can, you ought to snatch it right up.
The Computer is also dead.
May 23, 2002
I'm still typing away on the crampy little VAIO keyboard. Which might explain why I don't feel like typing my usual long-winded entries and have instead resorted to cutting and pasting stuff into the blog.
It sucks, too, because L has this posh setup waiting for me. Scanner, turntable, stereo, the works. I'll be burning CDs like a mofo once we fix the problem. It's either a bad power supply or a bad mother board. The cable shorts out if it's not in this weird special position that changes whenever you turn on the computer.
Oh, well...at least I am not completely computerless. Thank maude they aren't asking for this laptop back at work...although I still haven't gotten the digital camera back from my boss...and I miss it tremendously.
Ladies and Gentlemen
May 22, 2002
The television is broken. May it forever rest in peace.
I will miss the words "Graffiti is cool" that L scrawled on the top of it. That is all.
Racism, Eco-Justice, and You
May 22, 2002
I'm having a discussion with the Richard Kahn from Veganblog about a comment he made in reference to Charles Barkley's one man stand against PETA and animal rights activists..
I particularly took issue with this quote from Richard:
"...if Barkley can explain why animals and leftists should be run over why couldn't the Greek talk about the black body? Or how about John Rocker, the pitcher whom a few years back blasted every possible minority group imaginable with venemous hate-speech..."
My opinion is that race should not even be mentioned in this context, and bringing it into the argument implies an element of scapegoating. I feel that his references to Jimmy the Greek and John Rocker brought Barkley's race starkly into the spotlight, and it was offensive to me.
In subsequent e-mails, and in subsequent posts, I'm sort of feeling like Richard's heart is in the right place, but I still feel that the comparison between Barkley's anti-vegetarianism (which actually appears to be more of an anti-PETAism, which I can certainly relate to) and Greek's and Rocker's racism is offensive and detrimental to the movement.
What do you think?
I'm curious...
May 22, 2002
Is anyone reading the categories along the left column? If so, which ones? I mean, I'm going to update them regardless, but I'm interested in knowing what interests other people, you know?
oh, my holy freaking maude!
May 22, 2002
I made the granola recipe from the Farm Vegetarian Cookbook today again. This time I didn't burn it. It is so so so tasty. There's good eating at the Blood house today. I'm telling you.
I Could Possibly Have Earned the Title of Pasta Salad Queen
May 22, 2002
So, m asked to eat pasta salad again today. Since I had just made some on Monday, and was not in the mood for the same thing 2 days later, I decided to add a new twist. I'm starting to really get good at working without a cookbook, which is something I've been working on for the past 10 years or so. Yay, me!
Ingredients:
about 3 cups dry pasta
about a cup of broccoli and cauliflour (or one or the other)
about 1/2 cup each of peas, corn, and tofu cubes (or whatever other veggies you have lying around)
about a tablespoon of cilantro (or more or less, depending on how much you like cilantro)
2 green onions
about a teaspoon of grated ginger root
a couple tablespoons of toasted sesame oil (you can use the yummy spicy stuff if you don't live with small people who can't stand spicy food. If that is the case, you have my undying envy and you need to invite me over to try it sometime)
a dash or two or three of rice vinegar
tamari to taste.
Directions:
Throw some water on to boil. I usually will steam the veggies as the water boils, so put the broc/caul/peas/corn...and whatever else over the pasta water. Make sure you clean your veggies well, because you'll be boiling pasta in that water.
While the water is boiling, quickly saute the cubed tofu in some sesame oil if you have a recipe for tofu marinade that you like, you can use your marinated tofu here. Or you can bread the tofu in nutritional yeast or crushed peanuts. Yum! I actually didn't use tofu in the pasta salad I made today, I used garbanzo beans instead, but I'll bet peanut-breaded tofu would be just divine! You can also bake the tofu if you prefer to veer away from fried foods. Add the ginger here if you are sauteeing and you want to make the ginger flavor a little more mild. Otherwise, add the ginger to the other herbs and oils - making sure to mince it very very fine. Do drizzle on some toasted sesame oil for flavor, though. That shit is yummy-licious.
Once your veggies have cooked, remove them from the heat and set them aside. Throw your pasta in to cook.
When the pasta is done, toss everything in a big bowl, add sesame oil, cilantro, soy sauce to taste, ginger if you did not add it to the tofu already, and green onions. Maybe throw on some peanuts and some raw red pepper as a garnish.
Chow down, d00d. This stuff is tasty tasty tasty!
mAmazon...
May 22, 2002
Is anyone else wondering how mAmazon went? Where is cen?
m and c Update
May 22, 2002
c is COUNTING(!) It's unbelievable, but it's definitely true. He can count to two all by himself (and I frequently find him walking around the house saying "un, TOOOOOOOOOO" but he can also count at least up to thirteen with assistance. Here's how I found this out today...
Me and L and m and c were out and about today, and c was in L's arms saying "un, tooooooo" so I said "three" then "four" and c said "fi!" and I said "six, seven, eight" and c said "NI!!!" and I said "ten" and he said "lev!!" then I said "twelve" and he said "fir!!!"
OK, it probably sounds like I am totally making this up. What 19 month old child can count? But I'm telling you, he's counting. It's bizarre. No one asked this child to learn his numbers. I swear to you he doesn't spend any portion of the day hooked up to machines, and he really doesn't watch all that much sesame street or any other television. So...it's a mystery. Maybe it's hardwired in there somewhere, because I know m learned his numbers and letters really young, too.
The thing is, I'm not altogether interested in him picking this stuff up so quickly. I mean, all of the stuff I read about the waldorf philosophy discourages academic learning prior to the age of 7, or the change of teeth. Now, I'm not a total Waldorf fanatic, but I still see the sense in staying away from pounding this stuff into kids' brains so early. I want c to be out there. Outside of his brain. For as long as possible. So, I feel a great deal of responsibility towards leading him out there while allowing him to explore "in there." No coaxing. Nothing more than what is requested.
***
m is doing interesting things with words. Now, when I read to him (and he is once again going through a phase where he wants to hear the same 2 or 3 stories over and over again - this week it's Dragon Feathers and Cat In Search of a Friend. Only now, when I read to him, he will interrupt me and say "Where's such-and-such word?" and I have to stop what I am doing and point out that word. A lot of times, he's asking about punctuation. Like there will be a sentence that I will read loudly, and he'll ask me to point it out to him, and he will say "There's no exclamation point there!" So I'll reply that there isn't, but that the story seems to suggest that part is yelled. It's very, very cool.
***
So, wow...it's been a hell of a learning week here. The result of which seems to be that c just does not want to go to sleep at night no matter how tired he appears to be and m goes right to bed when he is asked. I'm sure that has to do with the cognitive development. c wants to be up up up and absorbing and m wants to take a freaking break already!
OK, it's LiP Magazine Overkill, I know...
May 22, 2002
but...wow! Great article:
"The ultimate invalidation is to look at some kid who is refusing to pay attention or behave well, and not respect that there's something by way of rebellion and resistance going on there, and then to medicalize it and then to drug it.
[It's] no accident that the greatest growth in diagnoses and in our population of people on drugs [have to do with] kids and teenagers. One of the reasons is that there's more and more pressure on kids to conform and comply."
****
"What I've found from my patients over the last 16 years is that the people who I see who are depressed and anxious are a lot of the most likable people I know. To me, it usually indicates that their soul is still intact. They're capable of feeling hurt, loss, pain—they haven't utterly anesthetized themselves like a lot of society. Take a look: one out of four people are on psychiatric drugs.
So, the first thing is, feel good about yourself that you're human enough to still feel hurt, anxiety and pain.
The second thing is, forgive yourself for probably doing a hell of a lot of stupid things with that—self-destructive things, unkind, selfish things to yourself and others.
The third thing is that once you understand that there are good reasons for why you're feeling the way you are, you want to move into finding a way to transform your life. That can be a real, satisfying, lifelong project.
Partially, what you start to understand is that you [need to] develop, in your life, a community of people who are like you, a community of people who really dig you. People who, when you see them and they see you, are really excited.
[If] they're interested in who you are, and you're interested in who they are, then at that point in time, you're starting to create a more human life for yourself."
Cat in Search of a Friend By: Meshack Asare
May 22, 2002
Dragon Feathers - Retold by Arnica Esterl - Illustrated by Andrej and Olga Dugina
May 22, 2002
Spiritualized - Pure Phase
May 22, 2002
Ain't it the freaking truth. I'm blasting this puppy out of my windows like no one's business. What an awesome disc. I love it more each and every time I listen to it. Sheer, unadulterated genius.
The Dog And Pony Show
May 21, 2002
I thought this blog was a good read.
Got Mama's Milk?
May 21, 2002
I'm so excited to report that I'm joining a small group of lactivists here in Austin. Our first project will be creating t-shirts with an image of a breastfeeding toddler on the front, and information about breastfeeding on the back.
What an amazing (and sad) commentary that displaying an image of a child breastfeeding is in itself a revolutionary act. I am so psyched to be included in this group.
Ban On Farm Photos
May 21, 2002
My friend Christopher sent me this article, which I thought was quite interesting:
Missouri ban on farm photos
Mo. House OKs Ban on Barn Photos
May 16, 2002 By THE ASSOCIATED PRESS Filed at 6:11 a.m. ET
JEFFERSON CITY, Mo. (AP) -- Taking aim at animal rights activists and
undercover reporters, the Missouri House has passed a measure that would
make it a crime to take pictures of animals in barns without an owner's
permission.
The ban would apply to still or motion pictures of farm animals in barns
or other areas where they are housed. Photographers could be sentenced to up
to one year in prison and a $1,000 fine.
The animal photography measure was added to a larger agriculture bill. It
now goes back to the Senate, which on Monday night had added a similar
provision to a House-passed bill.
Rep. Ken Legan, who sponsored the House amendment, said he doesn't approve
of photographers on a mission to expose the supposed evils of farming. His
amendment also would apply to animal-breeding facilities or any place that
houses animals for agricultural, business or research purposes.
``They'd like to come in and take pictures and say how bad it is when in
actuality (the animals) have never had it so good,'' Legan said.
Copyright 2002 The New York Times Company
Hahahahaha
May 21, 2002
This is for any Santa Cruz-ians in the audience (cough cough BLUEROSES cough)
I was referred there from this site, which was referred there from boing boing
Ummmm...ok. Giant blue balls at the playground...neighbors complaining of phallic trees...I'm starting to get a very strange picture of life in Santa Cruz.
A Monday in my life
May 20, 2002
Put Down that Plunger. It's another day in my life...
(OK, that was a total tease. There are exactly zero overflowing toilets in this entry. Of course, the day is still young as I start this. Who knows what could happen)
2:30 AM
Yes, c is once again waking up at 2:30 in the morning because his diaper is soaked and he can't deal with it. Groggily, I feel around in the dark for a dry diaper, realize that all of the "good" diapers are in the dryer, and I put a diaper with questionable velcro status on him, without a wrap...because those are also in the middle of being washed/dryed, etc.)
2:45 AM
Of course, c has fallen asleep, but my sinuses have erupted like a faucet. I drag myself out of bed, grab a handful of Puffs Plus (with aloe) and plop my ass down in front of the computer hoping to at least entertain myself while I'm miserable and sneezing. In between surfs, I'm cleaning up the kitchen, doing some laundry, and doing some writing.
4:00 AM
Oh, shit. Now I'm wide awake, and I'm still sneezing. I decide it's best that I at least try to go back to sleep.
7:30 AM
Both boys are awake. I am trying to stay asleep, but they're not falling for it this morning. I lay there for as long as I can while they bounce around and on top of me. c psyches me out a few times by pretending to snuggle up to me and get all sleepy-eyed, only to bounce back up and start acting all silly. m's telling me about his dream that he had that we were in a twister and we were all in a treehouse and it was really scary but I saved them. I think it had something to do with the "tomato tornado" in Cloudy with a Chance of Meatballs.
8:15 AM
Fuck it. We're getting out of bed. m is LOUD. L is still trying to sleep. c starts the day on an auspicious note by refusing to drop the plunger that he starts playing with while I'm on the toilet. There's something about starting the day by trying to convince an 18 month old that a plunger is not a toy that is just. so. wrong.
8:30 AM
I'm cleaning up the kitchen and chopping up veggies for our breakfast. This morning we're eating homefry tacos, basically it's a potato diced up with onion and "Gimme Lean" and pan fried until brown on most sides. Today I added some corn to the mix, and when it's just about done, I throw some tortillas on top and cover it up to soften. Yummy. I use this stuff called Herbamare instead of salt. It still has salt in it, but the other seasonings make things really tasty.
9:00
The kids are chowing down on breakfast, and I'm trying to straigthen up a bit. I do the dishes, and then I move into the back room to fold some clothes. Unfortunately, c has other plans for me, and as I place folded clothes on the pile, he busies himself with grabbing clothes off of another pile and strewing them about the room. I'm feeling kind of grouchy and short temper (gee...I wonder why) and I'm also sneezing every 5 and a half seconds. Not just one sneeze, either...but like 20 in a row. I always get really irritable when my allergies kick in & the kids seem to pick up on that and act even more irritating, you know? So I'm trying really hard to not lose my shit with c...not doing a very good job of it...and finally I just say "fuck it!", throw the laundry back in the baskets, and open up morning circle.
10:00
Lighting the vanilla scented candle with the lavender incense, I'm asking m what story he wants to read. Of course it's Dragon Feathers, because he loves that story...but I convince him to let me to read the story of Icarus to him as well. And a poem about geese. So I guess the theme for the day is feathers. He doesn't let me teach him "the song that never ends" which is probably a good thing.
10:30
I'm cleaning up the living room. I give up in total exasperation when c stands in the middle of the pile of crap I've swept up and starts dancing around. I throw the ingredients for a loaf of bread into the bread machine (I so love the modern world I live in) c's grouchy, crying...and I'm ready to just get the hell out of the house. SO...
10:45
We head over to the playground. The 5th graders are having some sort of picnic day, so the playground is overrun with semi-unruly children (hey, they can't help it, it's the last week of school) m doesn't feel like meeting new friends, so he's clinging to me. c's clinging to me, too. I'm feeling very hemmed in and annoyed, but I'm sure it's just me and not the poor children who are having to deal with grouchy mama. The kids run around a bit, and then m spies K- - or K- spies m (for those of you who are new to my little miniseries here, K- is this awesome kid in the neighborhood who just loves m and always goes out of his way to be extra nice to m even though m is much much younger.) and m has someone to play with for a little while. One of the teacher's aides is playing ball with c, so I talk to K- a little bit. He's all excited that it's the last week of school. He asks when m gets out of school and I tell him m doesn't go to school. He sort of laughs and says "Yeah, but when does he get out of homeschool." I laugh back and say "Oh, we don't really ever get "in" - we just play all day." hahaha.
I see John (I think that's his name - he was Rachel's neighbor, and he has a daughter who is, I think, 2 or maybe almost 3) and we chat for awhile, but some kid starts bullying Maia, so he has to go to her rescue. He seems like a nice guy...I've been meeting him up at the playground a lot lately. It's nice to talk to a fellow freak every once in awhile. c thinks he's the shit because c has a thing for men. If there is a man at the playground, you can bet c will be glomming on him within minutes. It's almost embarrassing sometimes.
12:30
We head home. c is sleepy, I'm hungry, and m does not want to go.
12:45
At home, I start putting things together for a pasta salad. I turn on some tunes. I think maybe c needs to sleep, but he's not interested in sleep. At some point he starts crying, L wakes up and takes him into the other room so I can have a moment of silence while I'm throwing lunch together. I'm making pasta salad, using rotini. I put some water on to boil and steam some broccoli and cauliflour and frozen peas over the water. When the water boils, I take the veggies off and set aside while the pasta cooks. then I throw everything together with some leftover corn from this morning and some basil, oregano, vegesal, olive oil and red wine vinegar. It's tasty.
1:00
At some point, L took c's diaper off without telling me. all of a sudden the dog seems very interested in c. I realize he has, um, defecated on the floor. As I run to get a rag to clean up, the dog takes the initiative and provides clean up services for me. How...appetizing. I know. Welcome to my fucking life.
1:15
m's done with his 3rd bowl of pasta salad. The bread is about 15 minutes from being fully baked. I bring c into the lavender-y bedroom for his nap. We look at an illustrated collection of James Herriot stories. c points to the cats and says "MAO! MAO!" Then he nurses for a brief time and drifts off to sleep.
1:30
I sit down to blog a bit and rest a bit and m is still eating that pasta salad. He really likes it. I slice up some bread for us, too. mmmMMmmMM warm bread straight from the bread machine!
1:45
I have a meeting today at work, so instead of playing with m like I usually do, I'm getting ready for work. I step into the shower, and step out to discover that there are no towels in the bathroom. I dry myself off with the one dry washrag that is available to me. hahahahahah.
2:00
Cleaning up, hanging out, farting around on the internet....L checks the mail and hands me a letter from John P, who says it sounds like Clothespins for the Revolution is right up his alley and he'd love to contribute. This makes me very happy. John P is actually the first zine person I ever met in my entire life. I wrote him a letter after picking up his zine, CEHSOIKOE, in a record store in HOffman Estates, IL (where he used to live) and we've been friends ever since. I remember running off copies of some of his first King Kats for him when I worked at Kinko's in chicago. He was all enthralled with the saddle stitcher, as he had spent YEARS perfecting a method of saddle stitching his little zines by stapling through them into a piece of styrofoam and then painstakingly bending the staples inward by hand. Hahahahaha. I totally remember him freaking out at how much easier his life had become just because of a silly machine that existed for the sole purpose of performing that tedious task. That's such a John P moment, too. What a great human being. He and Kera used to come around and make me laugh and act silly while I was working away. I love John P. So much. I hope he knows that.
Anyway, where was I...
2:30
Time to go to work. I can't find my freaking glasses (again!) I decide to just go without them. L says "OK, if you see a blob in the rearview mirror with a light on top...that would be the cop pulling you over to give you a ticket for not wearing your glasses." I'm so glad I live with the only person in the world who is more of an unbearable smartass than I am.
3:00
I'm at the meeting. Tech talk ensues. blah blah blah. touchy feely. blah blah blah. You get the picture. This meeting is at least marginally informative. Last week we met for all of 5 minutes. There was nothing to talk about. I felt bad for my cohort at the other site b/c she had to drive all the way up from south austin to get there. for me, it's right on my way to work, so it's no big deal.
4:30
Here's where my cohort at the other site is telling my boss that we can just "pick up some vegetarian items at the bar-b-q joint for Lainie" for our picnic/party/celebration next week. I look at her like she has horns sprouting from her nose and say "You know, there's a difference between vegetarian food and a barbecue joint's version of vegetarian food." I feel bad being rude, but this is like the 15th time she's tried to tell someone what is OK for me to eat. I don't even mind if I buy my own freaking food, but I do have a real problem eating food from a place whose sole purpose is cooking up dead animals for the masses. People can eat whatever the fuck they want to eat, but come on! If you're going to go out of your way to feed me, at least allow me to choose where you're spending your money on me.
OK. I'm a bitch. I know it. Sue me. My boss seems to understand where I'm coming from (after all, it was all of a WEEK ago that I bluntly told them that if we were to ever have a luncheon at a barbecue place, I simply wouldn't go. Again, not because I want to control what other people eat, but I just don't want to support that kind of establishment with my presence). She says she can pick me up some stuff from Whole Foods for the picnic. I tell her baked tofu would work. Corn on the cob, even. I can make do with a pasta salad. Whatever. And if it's a problem, I'd be happy to get the food myself. I don't mind.
5:00 PM
Time to go. whoopie! I get a bag of peanuts at the grocery store to tide me over until I can eat some food at home.
5:30 PM
Here I am at work, typing this up. I should probably go and look like I'm doing something constructive, though.
6:00 PM
Clients roll in, we do some creative projector bulb shuffling to get by with 1 bulb each in 2 projectors that normally require 2 bulbs. blah blah, talky talky. It's the last week of class, so everyone's finishing up their final projects. I am making calls for the classes that are coming up next semester. We're offering an html class that my favorite cutey-pie volunteer is teaching. I'm psyched. This guy is so so sweet...it's always nice to have him teaching here. And he does it on a volunteer basis which is way cool. Yay!
I'm happy with this class, even though it's smaller than usual, because I'm able to give some advice on their resumes instead of terminally trying to brush them off like I have to do in most classes. I think I've read over everyone's resume individually, and I feel like I've really really helped a lot of the clients achieve a polished, professional looking document. I'm really impressed by the diversity in the class...and the vast amount of experience. It's so great to work here. I7: can't even describe how much I love my job.
7:00 PM
I check my e-mai to discover that Jim Munroe is giving me permission to use one of his articles for Clothespins. He doesn't have time to write anything original, but it's still cool that he is interested in taking part. I'm starting to get really psyched about Clothespins. Moreso than before. Things are starting to come together nicely. I think it's going to kick ass.
9:00 PM
It's time to go. I have to tell J- that I can't drive him home b/c I'm not wearing my glasses and I feel really nervous about driving 10 or so miles out of my way when I can't see really well. I feel bad because he has to take the bus, but I know he is safer there than in a car with blind blind me.
9:15 PM
HO-LEE fucking SHIT! L has rearranged the living room again. He's set up the computer and the stereo so I can start ripping vinyl to CD, and he's made a cute little living area out of our scrounged furniture and our nasty old rug (the first item of domesticity that we purchased together...and possibly the last). All I have to do is actually hook everything up and I'll be able to type copious amounts of verbiage without experiencing major finger crampage again. It is absolutely beautiful in here. It's obvious he spent a great deal of time and energy working on it.
9:30 PM
I try to put c to sleep (let's call this "attempt #1") He acts like he's tired, so I start singing him all sorts of lullabyes. His eyes start to narrow. m starts talking really REALLY loudly in the other room and c begins to toss and turn and BANG HIS HEAD AGAINST THE WALL in an effort to stay awake. I'm nursing him. I'm counting silently to 50 over and over again (which is my method of relaxing myself enough to calm him down) I'm switching sides. I'm stroking his temples. I'm rubbing his back. He's flipping over. He's whacking me full force with his entire arm. He's pinching my arms, my stomach, my chest. He's rolling around.
10:00
fUCK IT f.u.c.k. i.t. This child has been working my nerves from the moment he woke up this morning. I get out of bed and stalk into the living room. m immediately sits on my lap. I take a few deep breaths, ask m to find a story for me to read. c jogs in and starts playing with some toys. m hands me Cloudy With a Chance of Meatballs (again!) and I try to lose myself in the reading of it.
10:15 PM
I lie and say it's time for bedtime when it's actually 15 minutes before m's bedtime (and about an hour and 15 minutes PAST c's. We all pile into bed...I accidentally flop onto L, who I didn't realize was laying in the bed already. We all rearrange ourselves to fit, and I start trying to nurse c down. He's back to his old tricks. Flipping. flopping. doing anything he can to avoid falling asleep. At one point, to avoid his peenchy fingers (you know how kittens knead the mama cat when they're nursing? This is kind of what c does...only he pinches. Hard. And it fucking hurts) I roll over on my stomach. c takes this as a cue and climbs onto my back, cowboy style. And stays there. I'm trying to be angry, but I'm laughing. I'm shaking with laughter. This makes m laugh. L laughs, too. We're all laughing, frustrated and laughing. And then we're all shooshing each other and trying again.
10:30 PM
Now c has arranged himself so he's lying perpindicular to me. And he's entertaining himself by shoving his foot in my face. I make the mistake of announcing "c's sticking his feet in my face." and m starts laughing hysterically. L tries to shoosh him, but then he starts laughing. Then, of course, I start laughing. I think we laughed about this for a full 5 minutes before L finally took m out of the room to try to get him to sleep in his room.
10:45
Here's how it goes. Nurse nurse nurse. Flip flop flip. nurse nurse nurse. scoot scoot scoot. pad pad pad. bang bang bang bang bang (this is c banging on the door). pad pad pad (back to the bed). Nurse nurse nurse. Pinch pinch pinch. Whack whack whack. roll roll roll. thud thud thud (this is him banging his head against the windowframe again). I think this is where I start to frantically count to 50 over and over to keep from committing an act of violence. It is the most frustrating thing in the world to watch an obviously tired child fight sleep so bad he has to inflict pain upon himself to try to stay awake. I'm trying to count to 50 but I keep drifting off and losing my place. 1...2...3...4...5...hmmm, I wonder what we should have for breakfast...where was I? 1..2..3..Shit. I need to make a grocery list and a menu plan because we're almost out of food...5...5..6...
11:00PM
I wake up. c's asleep. I sneak out of the room. I search frantically for the plug and phone connection for the laptop. m's still awake and playing in his room. I send him to bed, telling him that he should get some sleep because he'll be seeing his unpreschool f