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« November 2005 | Main | January 2006 »
Little Wing
December 31, 2005
Uncharacteristically for me, I spent last night barhopping on sixth street. Dry barhopping, but barhopping nonetheless.
I am suddenly discovering that I am actually an insufferable music snob, so perhaps hopping bars is the best way for me to get a live music fix without any commitment. We did pay a cover at Flamingo Cantina to see some band that I guess was just straight up rock, but the vocalist was, like, singing and it sounded really dumb. Who knows, I might have enjoyed them if I had listened to more, but the music was too loud and I felt like my ears were going to start bleeding in an unpleasant way and, while hearing damage can sometimes be justified in the name of rocking out, I didn't feel like this particular band deserved that from me. Thus began our one-night stand with the music of sixth street.
So we left, weaving down the street to avoid the drunk and the horny. We took a shortcut through a park and had a conversation with a homeless guy that ended badly. I think he was trying to encourage my companion to take advantage of my dick sucking capabilities because, evidently, fat white girls suck better. Who knew? I mean, I've always prided myself on my ability to give a mean blowjob, but I had no idea it was because of my size or my skin color! Maybe if I ate more and avoided the sun, I could achieve superstar status, or win a gold medal in the dicksuck olympics!
Thankfully, my companion had the sense to steer me out of there and out into the open. I guess I was a little shaken up, but it's not like I've never been harrassed by a stranger before. I remember the time I was alone in a restaurant and some crazy guy kept telling me that he was really good at "playing the harmonica" and if I was to step into the stairwell with him, he'd be happy to introduce me to his mad "harmonica playing" skills. Who knows...perhaps he would have whipped out an actual Hohner and blown some blues licks to die for, but I wasn't about to find out. Since I felt relatively protected, it didn't really bother me. Of course, as a writer and a feminist, it just provides more fodder for the patriarchy blaming and story writing.
So, we kind of dazedly stumbled forth into the next bar where some white dudes were playing those white boy blues. And here's where I make my confession. I find guitar players incredibly sexy. I remember when I first saw my ex playing his guitar, all I could think about was what else he might be able to do with those hands. What can I say - it's a weakness. However, there's a fine line between the guitar as an instrument of seduction and the guitar as an instrument of masturbation. Last night's guitar player was clearly only interested in getting himself off. It was so obvious. I turned to my companion at one point & said "His guitar is so...phallic. It looks like he's jacking off." And then, after the first song, I turned once again to my companion and said "Whenever I hear a band like this play, I always long to hear "Little Wing."
Little Wing has one of the sexiest guitar rifts in rock music, ever. I love how the instrumentation falls apart and always comes together in that one riff that is woven throughout the song. It's amazing and satisfying like one, long, rolling orgasm. Of course, right after I said that I was longing to hear "Little Wing" the band broke into it, and it was the most sexually frustrating experience in my entire life. Mr. Masturbator kept breaking up the riff with his fucking antics and I started feeling all jittery. I leaned over and told my companion "I just want to grab the fucking guitar out of his hands and fucking DO IT RIGHT!" He laughed and said "Do you play?" I was like "No." And I was thinking "But I know the difference between, like, making love and fucking myself, for fuck's sake."
Which isn't to say that the band was bad or that I was having a bad time. I mean, I guess I felt some sort of gratification in the knowing that I know enough about music to know when something is so horribly botched, right? Plus, my companion was sweet and fun and also a non-drinker, so there was none of that "Oh, great...am I going to end up carting around someone who babbles incoherently for half of the evening." I guess I have actually never gone barhopping with a fellow non-drinker, and I enjoyed his presence immensely. A partner in crime, so to speak. As usual, open to anything. I think he actually said that at one point, and I wanted to hug him. I'm sure I will ask him out again sometime. His participation actually made the entire experience cohesive and worthwhile.
After Masturbation Man, we tripped down the street looking for one. last. fix. and found it at an Irish pub where a band was playing fiddle music. It was mad and beautiful and insane with dancing. The fiddle player had this awesome wide grin and he did this cute little booty shake while he was playing and even though I couldn't bring myself to dance, I did smile really big and enjoy the festiveness of the crowd and the music. It went a long way towards washing out the bad taste left by John Q. Jackoff, but stilll...when we arrived home I made coffee and put on the Gun Club so as to achieve some sort of climactic gratification to end the evening right. And each time Jeffrey Lee Pierce nailed that crescendo, I pointed to the stereo and said "Do you hear that? That's how that song is supposed to be played." I'm sure my companion thought I was insane, but, you know, if you want something done right, sometimes you just have to do it yourself...or find a suitable vehicle for achieving that end, anyway.
Something True, Something Lovely...
December 30, 2005
I'm getting a late start on the "getting stuff done" phase of my vacation, because I've been basking in the "decidedly NOT getting ANYTHING done" phase. But, you know what? In the words of my dear son, Monk: "Fuck it!"
Yesterday, I spent a good portion of the day crawling back into bed over and over again after another late night spent talking. I slept, and wrote, and thought, and read, and then I went to pick up Harold & we hung out having one of those expansive, handwaving, loud conversations that we always used to have. It had been about 9 years since the last time I saw him. NINE YEARS. And we picked up like we had never let off. Damnit...I think I am the most fortunate person in the world, you know? Where do I find these amazing people who always have so much to say and shine and shine and shine and shine.
I had a great time hanging with Harold, talking breathlessly about music and our mutual friends and all of their personal catastrophies. Harold has lived in Prague and Boston and several different places in Austin since last we spoke. I've been here. Raising babies. Amazingly enough, that didn't seem to effect how much I had to contribute to the conversation. Damn, I missed Harold. There's no one on earth like Harold. When I dropped him off, I gave him a big growly hug. Harold. I am looking forward to seeing him again. Soon.
I came home and crawled back into bed for a bit & then David stopped over to walk Twyla with me. It's funny, because Harold and David actually have a lot in common, and I'm brimming with the possibility of bringing people together - particularly in the creative context that I think Harold and David will communicate. I just love that. It has been forever - far too long - since I felt like a hub of creativity. I love making people soup and seeing what brews up. Thinking about it, I just want to squash them both, brew them up a pot of coffee, and let them go. Also, it hit me that I have already found the walking partner I was wishing for at the beginning of last month or whenever. I look up, and there he is right next to me. Comfortable and open to whatever. I love that. I'm so spoiled. I always get what I want.
David hung out for awhile and watched a movie with me. Vampire's Kiss. I haven't seen it in awhile, but it's one of the movies that I like to make everyone watch. Basically, it's a kind of bizarre twist on a vampire story. It's actually an elaborate pun the punchline of which is "Yuppies suck." hahahahahaha. It's one of Nicholas Cage's earlier roles, and he does such a fantastic job as a totally unlikable, gradually-growing-delusional yuppie prick that you don't even feel bad that he's going slowly insane. You just laugh. Because he's such an ass. At least *I* laugh.
This morning when I woke up, I was still in a good mood. I feel like my heart is going to burst right out of my chest. While I was in the parking lot of the grocery store, the source of my joy really hit me. It's simply this: I am alive. After all of the anger and negative bullshit and abuse and all of that other crap that has permeated my life over the past 7 years or so, I'm finding that I'm OK. I'm fucking ALIVE. And I don't have to be nearly as careful as I thought I had to be with my heart. I'm not nearly as fragile or vulnerable to attack as I thought I was...because whatever happens, I am alive. I am strong. I am whole.
I am alive.
A Dru Blood Sex Fantasy for You
December 28, 2005
I think I've been spending entirely too much time listening to music in my room, because I was just writing in my journal and came up with this sex fantasy. Are you ready?
I'm in my room with some guy, right, with the music playing, and I have really good speakers...and we're, you know, getting busy. And suddenly he stops, looks deeply into my eyes, and says...
"You have the BEST music collection!"
bahahahhahahahaehahahahahahahahaha.
Because I DO, you see. Have the best music collection. It's probably better than sex, that's how good it is.
Chronic Strap-On Bliss
December 28, 2005
I'm so fucking psyched. Last night, I was cleaning up my room and I stumbled upon a little mini-zine I released along with my old zine, bAnal Probe. This mini zine included two stories from two of my best friends at the time, one was by Bryan about some drumming thing...maybe a crash worship show? I dunno, because I didn't reread it.
What I did read was "Bigfoot Thunder," which was Eddy Puss' (aka Hay-Rolled, aka Mr. Lehman)'s recounting of the bizarre and seemy world of the monster truck rally. Oh My God it is so funny that I think I'm going to have to reprint it sometime. Soon.
And I got to thinking about Harold. We pretty much stopped talking around the time I got pregnant, for any of several reasons, most of which I think might have been my fault - kind of like an aggressive negligence. Because I'm dumb. Or was.
The first time I met Harold was at the behest of a pen pal from Virginia, I think, who told me he had this really cool friend who had just moved to Austin and was looking for people to hang out with. So we hung out, and it turned out my pen pal was right. Harold was always so easy and fun to hang out with. He's fucking funny and talented and just a really neat person. Damn. I'm dumb!
So I googled him, and was delighted to find he has a really cool website and he's still doing music and artwork and is all-around Harold still and gosh that's always really nice, isn't it? When people who are dear are still doing those things that endear them to us. Particularly as I get older and find that fewer and fewer of my artistic/creative friends are holding on to the values we held when we were younger. It's precious to me.
I took a chance and emailed him. I told him I WAS WRONG, because I was. I never should have let Harold slip away. He was someone important, and there were dumb non-reasons for letting him go. And it hit me really hard how much I miss him.
And he wrote back. Which...YAY! He's still in Austin and sometime soon I get to have some yummy Harold-y goodness in my life. Yay google! Yay old friends! Yay Harold!
Freedom.
December 28, 2005
I've been wandering around at night lately, filled with love and freedom. I think it just recently struck me. Hard. That I am a single woman. And I think my thinking about what it means to be a single mother contemplating "what happens next" on the relationship front has evolved slightly.
I'm pretty sure this time last year...or even like 4 or 5 months ago...I had this crazy idea that I had a responsibility to weigh all potential relationships with men on a scale of parenthood. In other words, every conversation, every crush, every interaction with a potential love interest had to be viewed through the lens of "Will this relationship last FOREVER."
Because we are sold on this idea that all relationships need to last forever to be healthy. I think I'm beginning to understand that this is totally not true and is, in fact, counter-productive...and possibly oppressive, not to mention an impossible ideal to achieve...and, actually, not my ideal at all. We are sold this idea that transition is unhealthy for children. That they can't bear to see their mothers get involved in relationships with multiple men. I call bullshit on that, too. If it's true (and I think it is) that most relationships are transient in nature (with a few very special exceptions) isn't it best to help the children understand that people can come and go and it shouldn't interfere with your perception of love and giving and sharing.
Here's my deal. My mom...never remarried. She barely even dated, as far as I saw. And as much as I hear my friends who are children of divorced parents complain about having to deal with new men in their lives all of the time (and I fully admit that there is a point where it becomes excessive and that, of course, any new person brought into the life of a child should be safe for the child) I think it really hurt me, also, to witness my mom close off a huge part of who she is for...I don't even know what purpose. Perhaps she thought she was sparing me? Perhaps she really did just give up on men (and, based on her experiences, I can't say I blame her, although...I tend to wish she had chosen a more healthy path for her own sake as much as mine.) And for that reason, I don't feel like the other end of the "bringing new men into the lives of the children" is any more acceptable than the other.
What I have gleefully decided is that I am healthy, and because I am healthy, I can count on myself to make healthy choices about who is and is not in the lives of my children. I think at some point, too, I got caught up in this idea that I need to carefully consider my entire future before I give my time to any man...well, any PERSON, really & not waste time with anyone who doesn't fulfill some sort of utilitarian purpose in my life. I cringe to think I actually have said that out loud without even thinking how cruel it is. Superfluous friends are the best! And, anyway, every relationship fulfills a purpose of one sort or other, whether it's directly utilitarian or more esoteric.
Then there is this idea that all relationships need to fit into neat little well-defined boxes. I am having the best time with smashing those boxes lately. My friend David is a perfect example. It has been many many years since I have so utterly adored a man who can make me laugh and smile and think deep thoughts and totally silly thoughts and who is attractive and sweet and kind and wise, and sometimes insanely inappropriate, immature, and outrageous and who I don't feel any need whatsoever to put my hooks into. I have a giant crush on him, and every time I see him I approach him with my arms out like a big monster and/but as soon as my shadow looms over him, I realize how silly everything is, and I just end up patting him on the head rather than smothering him because he is David and I love to watch him unfold. I was thinking about that today, actually. About how huge my love for David is, and why isn't there any angst? And it's because I have absolutely no expectation or need for him to hold up my ego. I just enjoy the hell out of witnessing him moving about the world. He gives me hope. I think everyone should have a David in their life. I've been blessed with many of them along the way. This David is one of my favorites, though. And the coolest part is that I would never be able to fully appreciate David if I was in a relationship right now.
Isn't that funny? It's because of my freedom from love that I can feel so free to Love.
Just in time for my birthday HINT HINT
December 28, 2005
Straight outta NOLA comes the 2006 mama calendar, with tons of pictures of lucious mamas and their adorable children. Order yours now!
how to order:
send $12 a piece plus $2 for mailing costs to coleen murphy PO box 741655 new orleans, LA
70174
or via paypal to coleen at bust dot com
calendar details are at http://members.tripod.com/onebigmama/calendar.html
Happy Blogoversary, Redneck Mother!
December 28, 2005
Redneck Mother: This Day in History
A year ago today I had the flu, the kids were knocked out on prescription cough syrup, and I decided to undertake what a friend of mine had been encouraging me to do for many months: I started a blog.
And we are all so glad she did!
Go wish her well, please, or me and my cute haircut will have to open up a can and a half of redneck whoop-ass.
My vacation so far.
December 27, 2005
I have been off work for a week now, and it's been the most gloriously unproductive week in my entire life. There has been no stress, no schedule, no running around, no worrying that I need to get something done that I'm not getting done. There has been much staying up late, laughing, hanging out, falling madly in love with the entire world, staring at lights, laying in bed all day, crawling back to bed for mid-day naps, walks, walks, walks, joy, frustration, sorrow, bliss.
Yay for vacations that seem to go on forever. I'm now finally getting my ass in gear and doing all of the things I have been waiting for a vacation to do, including regaining contact with old friends, cleaning my fucking room, cleaning the living room, throwing stuff away, rearranging, cleaning the kids' room, listening to music, backing up my computer, and still plenty more farting around.
By the way, if you are a blogger in Austin and you are cool, email me and maybe I will let you know where all of the cool austin bloggers are meeting up for coffee tomorrow. It's a big secret, you see. A secret meeting.
Salon
December 27, 2005
My early birthday present to myself is a new haircut. My old stylist is back in town after having disappeared for several years. I have to say, it was wonderful to sit and chat with her. She's my favorite stylist ever in terms of salon banter. I feel totally comfortable with her, and she's wonderfully wise and articulate. I think the haircut and the conversation was exactly what I needed today. Yay, Jessica Tate! Yay, Cute New Hairstyles!
Writer of Fictions
December 26, 2005
I just figured out something really important about my writing. All my life, I have written true stories...non-fiction...feeling like I was doing something dangerous and exposing all of my frail vulnerabilities. However, it just occurred to me that non-fiction is much more daring. because rather than writing about what IS or what WAS, you are actually verging on writing about your desire for what MIGHT BE. There's not a more vulnerable feeling in the world than exposing your hopes and dreams. I aspire to one day allow myself to do so.
Look what the winter elf brought for you!
December 26, 2005
I have these posters to give you. I am currently having them printed on 11x17 glossy cardstock at Kinko's for 3 bux a pop, and they look absolutely gorgeous. I'm linking to the small size here, but if you would like me to send you a high-resolution image, I can do that.
My plan is to write a short bio of each person and have an "inspiring agitator" of the month thing going on at our house.
(click to make them bigger)
Love letter to my body.
December 26, 2005
I think I've been feeling a bit in need of some size-love reinforcement lately. It's so easy to knock me off kilter and make me look at my body in a not-so-loving light. I look in the mirror and I see my saggy underchin and my skin tags and I think "bluck." I hear Dave Chappelle crack a joke about being so drunk "You'll be fucking fat chicks in no time" and I feel like I'm simultaneously shrinking and becoming cartoonishly gargantuan in the presence of the others in the room.
This year has been a hard one on my body. The past few years have been unhealthy times. I had to stop taking the bus to work and cut down dramatically on the time I took for movement. One of the best things about having Pansy and Clay here, as I've mentioned, has been the freedom of my nightly walks. I love feeling my body in motion. I love my power. I love my size and graceful clumsiness. I love that I can nurture and hug and love and not just feel but BE broad and expansive and overflowing. I love it so much I will rise from the couch at 2 in the morning, after 4 hours of Lord of the fucking Rings, and propel myself forth into the night. Enjoying the air, the company, the sounds of the walkman, and the rhythm of my footfalls. It's gorgeous meditation.
I have to remind myself that this body has carried me through life, protectively encompassing all that I am. At every size, I have always felt larger than life...because I am. As we all are - disembodied energy presiding over moving lumps of flesh. Pleasing to look at, maybe. Warm to the touch, soft. Functional. Strong. Perfectly imperfect. Me.
& so...
I love you, skin tags on eyelids & neck!
I love you, saggy boobies!
I love you, smelly belly button!
I love you, perfectly placed mole on my left breast!
I love you, stretch marks & muffin top belly!
I love you, hairy legs and pits!
I love you, strong legs!
I love you, flabby, strong arms!
I love you, cute nose with the line down the middle!
I love you, big outpout lips!
I love you, chipped front tooth!
I love you, kissable chin and earlobes!
I love you, misbehaving hair!
I love you, tired, expressive eyes!
I love you, bags under aforementioned eyes!
I love you, forehead wrinkles!
I love you, scrunchy smile!
I love you, chubby fingers!
I love you, pimply butt!
I love you, great big mama hips!
I love you, love you, love you, love you! I'm going to slather you all with lavender lotion and take us out for a nice treat!
Wrecked.
December 26, 2005
No matter how much I psyche myself up for their departure, I always end up feeling wrecked when they leave. It's 75 degrees outside. Crawling back into bed and crying my eyes out for the next 5 days or so sounds appealing, but I need to peel these sweatpants off and take a long walk, instead.
Maybe, though, I'll rest for a little bit first.
While watching The Extended Version of Return of the Kings
December 26, 2005
(FOUR HOURS LONG, folks. I thought it was 3.5, but it was FOUR HOURS LONG)
At any rate, the first night we tried watching it, David responded to my pitiful attempts at making up a Lord of the Rings rap by turning to Monk and saying "Monk, tell your mom to stop making wack rhymes."
Last night, in the fourth hour of the movie, after the 92nd false ending, Monk threw his hands up in the air and said "Oh, FUCK IT!"
I was, of course, appropriately appalled*. But then, after the 125th false ending, I woke myself up by snoring and said "You are right Monk. Fuck it!"
(*Actually, I laughed. Loudly...but, you know, after 4 hours of Lord of the Rings, certain brain functions begin to shut down)
TWO HOURS LEFT
December 26, 2005
Two hours until the kids' dad picks them up for a week-long stay at his place. I feel a tinge of mama guilt, but not much, when I say "I CANNOT FUCKING WAIT!!!!" I have been unable to concentrate or focus on anything for more than 5 minutes at a time because Coley has been unusually bug-like and clingy, and keeps popping in to say something to me or jump around or grab me or whatever else he feels like doing (in fact, this 5 sentence post was interrupted 97 times.) I know I should be used to it, but it startles me each and every time. And they have not seen their papa for like 3 weeks, so it's been this way non-stop with the exception of work and sleep (which I have not been getting much of, mostly so I can have some time that I call my own, since for some reason the children have become morning people and I am no longer able to squeeze in any extra time for myself between 7 and 9 AM) and some wonderful little breaks here and there courtesy of Pansy and/or Clay.
The week stretches out like an infinite void in front of me. It's a happy void. It's a very happy void. Cheers to the void!
Psychiatry in a dysfunctional Society
December 26, 2005
I was reading back through my archives, and I found this awesome interview with Dr. Bruce E. Levine:
"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."
I'm really starting to re-evaluate all of the things I have been saying about depressed men. Perhaps what's needed is more understanding and less griping. To be fair to myself, it's kind of difficult to muster the empathy when I'm embroiled in a relationship with someone who is so horribly stuck in a rut. What the world needs is offroad tires for the soul.
GAY MARRIAGE!
December 25, 2005
I think it says something about the future state of our world when, at the marriage square on the game of Life (by Milton Bradley), the children gleefully choose a same-sex partner and cheer "Gay Marriage!"
Happy when it rains.
December 25, 2005
There has been so much freaking laughter around here lately, I think I'm actually getting a tummy workout. I just thought I'd share some of the links that have caused some of this bliss.
First, originally via Susan, Awesometown. Probably not safe for work, but incredibly hilarious. I especially like the Castaways segments. Susan suggested the Dudes' cut, so that's the only one I watched.
Last night, I was afraid the kids would come out and shoosh me and David because we were laughing so hard at this price is right clip. My friend David fucking rocks. He is the best person to laugh with, because he's one of these people who laughs so hard he can't breathe, and then you end up just laughing out of sheer joy from watching him laugh. Maude, that man is funny. He also sent me the link to this Incredibad song, which...HAHAHAHAHA...sheer fucking white rap genius "motherfucking chamomile."
And have you seen the Chronic-WHUT-ils of Narnia video? Holy fucking shit. That's a freaking workout in itself.
Also, Pansy has got me hooked on the Chappelle show, and we are all Lil John impersonators now. WHUT? OKAAAAY.
You know...I'm almost too busy laughing to blame the patriarchy, but this diagram of the female heart seems to fit right in with the merriment. Even though it's actually not very funny at all.
Merry fucking Holiday, indeed. bahahahahaahahahahahahaa.
Looking Back, Looking Inward, Looking Up.
December 21, 2005
Happy Solstice, everyone. May the gradual return of the sun bring renewal and clarity into all of our lives.
At the behest of a dear friend, I have been listening to Eckhardt Tolle's The Power Of Now. It's a good listen, and I'm enjoying the wisdom of much of what Tolle is saying. I also value the significance of Tolle's words in the life of my dear friend. I respect the difficulty in sharing something that is so monumental in your life with someone - with the possibility that someone might not find that sacred item (or those sacred words) to be sacred or valid. For that reason, I was a little afraid to even read (or listen to) the book, but I'm pleased that I'm not finding it to be total bunk. I am finding much of it to be redundant (or, more positively, in line) with things I already believe...and then every once in awhile there is an absolute gem that totally clarifies something I have felt but haven't been able to put into words. Today, when I was listening, I was struck by this sentence:
"Everything is honored, but nothing matters."
I guess I have heard that articulated before. I believe Kerouac refers quite frequently to the great nothing. He also states directly, in I think Desolation Angels, "When all is said and done, nothing matters." But I think placing the honoring of everything there, rather than implying it, makes it all very clear to me. It was a wonderful little insight to gain this morning, as I move forward into the shortest day.
It's also remniscent of my favorite punk rock philosophy of love: "Underneath, we are all lovable." Which is something I need to remind myself of when it feels like there is a scarcity of love & when I am tempted to go out looking for it, when it really just exists everywhere around me and within me, in abundance.
With these things in mind, I feel like I am ready for the new season. I can acknowledge what is behind me, I am familiar with what is within me, and ahead of me...things are looking up.
The Perfect Winter Mix.
December 20, 2005
I think I made the best mix ever last night. It was superb to listen to while I was walking around in the middle of the night with my dog, but not quite as good while driving. So, maybe it's a walking mix more than a driving mix. I imagine that it's a good cleaning mix, too.
Anyway, here it is:
Nick Cave - Do You Love Me?
Portishead - Cowboys
PJ Harvey - The Sky Lit Up
The Decemberists - Engine Driver (which is, admittedly, out of place, but it's such a good song, and seems to fit with a little thread that weaves in and out of this mix)
Bran Van 3000 - Rainshine
Jawbreaker - Fine Day
De La Soul - Eye Know
T. Spigot - Hypnotic
Portishead - Sour Times
Bjork - Joga
Air - The Way You Look Tonight
Nick Cave - Cannibal's Hymn (which follows a near-perfect segue from the previous song, to make up for the awkwardness of the Decemberists song)
Portishead - A Tribute to Monk
Cat Power - Keep on Runnin' (Crawlin' Back Spider)
Kristen Hersh - Velvet Days
Heart - Magic Man (which is an amazingly good song to end a mix on, particularly this mix with that threaded theme...because my mind changes as to whether this particular man uses his magic for good or evil almost every time I hear the song and because the song is just barely on the good side of somewhat cheesy, but still rocking. In my opinion, of course.)
I still haven't sent out the fall mixes, although they are in envelopes and waiting patiently to be sent. But if anyone wants a copy of this mix, let me know. I'll see what I can do.
"Nice Try. End of your try."
December 19, 2005
This is our president, folks. Responding to a question about timelines for withdrawal that our president refused to answer.
"Let me say something about the patriot act, folks. It is inexcusable for our senate to let the patriot act expire."
Mr. President, you do not make me feel like my civil liberties are being considered when you come out on stage, pound your podium, make snide remarks to the press, and act like a spoiled fucking brat who doesn't want to give up his toys and actually says stuff like "I forgot what I was talking about...but I'm doing the right thing."
You know...when I heard the breaking news about The-President-Doesn't-Give-A-Fuck-About-Our-Civil-Liberties-Gate I felt like "What? You didn't just assume this was happening already?"
Oh. My. Fucking. Shit....can he fumble any more on a question about race.
The Prez: "Thank you for violating the Multi-part question rule."
Reporter: "I didn't know there was a law against that"
The Prez: "It's not a law, it's an executive order."
(further outrageous garble about how it's not monitored by the congress, followed by motherfucking LAUGHTER from the audience.)
I love how people are LAUGHING while our president raves on like a fucking dictatorial lunatic.
Mr President, my civil liberties - and those of my fellow citizens - are not a FUCKING JOKE.
My computer, on the other hand, is another story
December 19, 2005
So, I'm listening to the press conference this morning, and I'm attempting to buffer my outrage by reading some of the harsh criticisms of last night's speech listed at the huffington post.
God, someone needs to spank the president. He's sounding more insolent and bratty than he has in a very long time.
Oh. my. fucking. god.
Hahaha! "A vision of New Orleans rising up." I think plenty of my friends have visions of New Orleans rising up. I have visions of rising up all of the time.
Echidne saves my television
December 19, 2005
Thanks to people like Echidne I did not have to listen to the president's speech last night & my television is not smashed to pieces and strewn all over the floor. You can choose to read the long version above, or skip right to the Cliff's Notes Version.
To avoid the president, I took the children out for a nice long walk around the neighborhood and looked at all of our neighbors' lovely and occasionally audacious holiday light displays. It was much more pleasant.
Thanks, Echidne!
I'm confused
December 19, 2005
When I was little, all of the fundie/religious types were trying desperately to take the commercialization OUT OF Christmas. Now, suddenly, they are looking for, like, Jesus Product Placement.
Which is it, Christians? You are confusing my poor heathen brain with your mind-change-fu.
Writer's Block
December 18, 2005
I was just sitting here, trying to puzzle out why it seems I can't write anything about politics lately. It's not like I don't THINK about politics, both of everyday life and of things external, but for some reason I am unable to write about my more political thoughts, and instead I tend to dwell on the details of my life which, some might argue, are actually political anyway, but far less universally so.
But, anyway, as I sat here thinking about this, the answer occurred to me...
I'm tired of scanning the news, looking for something to get pissed off about.
There. That's the reason. It's probably a temporary tiredness, because, really, what better entertainment is there than that? But, either way, I figure it's best not to force the issue.
In other news, Coley went to his first-ever UU R.E. class. Well, OK, the first one that didn't end up with him biting someone and me having to come out of the service to sit with him for 45 minutes in someone's private (hopefully soundproof) office while he cried and ranted and spat up pea soup (not literally but you get the idea.) hahahahaha. Today, I began the class with him, and the teacher was this really cool and gentle guy who didn't bat an eye at any of the children & I was duly impressed & knew that if there was ANY hope for Coley, it would be with this guy.
And he did! He didn't cry, scream, bite OR regurgitate. However, before I left him, I participated in the opening little thingie that they did, and niceman was asking the children if they knew what holiday was coming up. Coley, who has never once celebrated Christmas in his entire life (at least in my care) blurted out, not SOLSTICE, as I would have desired, but CHRISTMAS.
Damnit. I need to send him back to heathen school. Fucking Christian culture is ruining my holiday season.
Update on the house sharing.
December 15, 2005
I guess this house has been home to 7 for...gosh...I've lost track of how many weeks. Nearly a month, though, I'm thinking. I feel like it's going swimmingly. The thing that I love most about Pansy is that she views challenges as opportunities for growth, rather than excuses for running away. And there have been challenges...and I, for one, have grown.
Pansy and Clay have been awesome, though. I have SHELVES in my KITCHEN that weren't there before. And sometimes, when I come home from work at night, STUFF is CLEANED UP.
The kids have been doing well, also. Actually, I'm amazed at how well they have been doing. It just occurred to me that the reason I haven't been writing as much is because I've had to do a little extra mama-time with Coley, but it's good mama-time. I think I might be a bit biased because I am the youngest in my family, but I am most concerned about Coley. He is five, and the oldest is almost ten, and it can start to seem sometimes like Coley is always put in the role of the pesky baby brother. But I also think we are all learning to adjust to our situation, ask for what we need, and respond appropriately to stressful situations. My response to Coley's predicament is to, with the help of Pansy, bring him into situations where he is not the baby. I'm also thinking about enrolling him in an "after school" art program. He's sort of apprehensive about this, but I feel like it would be good for him to get away from all of us for a few hours every week & this program is relatively inexpensive.
On the homeschooling front, Monk has met his goal of finishing his math workbook on time, he's ready to move up to level 3 & he claims to LOVE math. Pansy has been doing history with the kiddos just about every day. We're talking about starting a true honest-to-god co-op with the families we know who homeschool. There's a mama in the group who can do science, and several who can do crafty stuff. Pansy wants to continue doing the history. I'm trying to think of a way to do a computer class - it would have to be project-based & probably one of the projects will be to create a group blog. I really want to see if David can teach the kids how to break. He seems willing, but I'm not sure if he realizes what he's getting himself into. I still really like the idea of doing playground games, if we can get a large enough group to have teams. I can teach basketball and baseball and kickball. I already taught them how to play dodgeball. We'll see how that pans out in the New Year. We're doing some planning now & I'm looking forward to seeing how it all shakes out.
I'd like to get back into the rhythm of daily writing, but it's been difficult. I have been busy at work, busy at home, busy socially (for me, anyway) and writing has deprioritized itself. I will have 2 weeks off from work starting on Tuesday, though...so that's my time to collect myself, discern a rhythm of the day/week, and move forward.
The Solstice
December 15, 2005
We are all set for our solstice celebration next week & I'm pretty psyched. The winter elf is bringing the camera and some computer games, and maybe some books...but more importantly, we're going to get to spend the solstice with friends.
Somehow, I managed to start a solstice tradition a couple of years ago. We all meet up at Wheatsville on the night of the solstice & have hot cocoa (or chocolate milk, if it's like 90 degrees) or coffee (hot or iced) and then traipse over to see the spectacle of lights on 37th street. Your town probably has a 37th street - where all of the houses go all out with the holiday lights. It's pretty cool, and the kids love it. Then we head home and whoever wishes can join us for snacks and stories. I try to stay up all night and greet the dawn. I'm not sure how I'm going to fare this year. I think if I can convince my friend David to try to stay up with me, I'll be able to do it. He makes me laugh, and that's a vital element in staying awake. I have to figure out some good craft projects to do for the kiddos, or maybe some baking. But it's all really mellow. I love mellow holidays.
When the kids go to bed (IF they go to bed. If they DON'T go to bed, I suppose it will happen the next night. Monk always threatens to stay up all night...but never manages to deliver) the winter elf comes and hides all of their presents, so when they wake up in the morning, they have to hunt for things. I'm not sure how we are going to divide up the presents this year, because normally, I don't even indicate which present is for who - the idea is that they have to share everything. I think it will be fairly obvious that the xbox games are for Pansy's kids, and maybe the books can be communal. Plus I would like to get some art/craft supplies. We actually do this every change of seasons, so the gifts are pretty minimal, although I did splurge a bit, cost-wise, this time around. Usually the gifts are sort of the necessities of the season. Like in winter and summer we tuck in and do board games and computer games & in spring and fall there are outdoorsy things like balls and play gear. And I try to get something for the house, as well. Like the camera.
So, yeah. It's promising to be a warm occasion for us. I'm looking forward to it.
Ho Ho Ho
December 14, 2005
I received an unexpected windfall today in the form of a bonus check, so I was able to purchase the digital camera I have been eyeing for the past week. I was trying to justify spending more than I ought to, but feeling like I need a camera since the one I had on semi-permanent loan from work is on the fritz and it's doubtful I will be able to keep the new one we are getting on the same sort of permanent loan basis.
So, I splurged. I actually splurged a lot today. And it felt fucking awesome. Which I suppose is the point of Christmas bonuses. The kids each got one frivelous gift, in addition to our household camera gift. I very rarely buy them frivelous gifts for any occasion, but I felt like I needed to do that this year. I'm happy that I did.
I also got a new computer for work. It's not really mine, but I get to pretend like it's mine, so that counts. Yay! Expensive toys! (pictures below the fold)
(I also got the 512 MB Memory Card, a bag & some batteries)
(It's fucking huge!)
They chose white lillies cuz they're such wacky kids...
December 13, 2005
It's always pretty after an apocalypse / So we strolled past the flowers / Planted by the bloods and crips / And they chose white lilies / Cause they're such wacky kids / It was a good day / Damn right, it was a good day / Almost all the hypocrites and demagogues were gone / Like the sacramental moment / In a last poets song / And bayard rustin came back / Just to bitch slap farrakhan / Burned to the ground / We knew it would burst into bloom / Healthy and good / So we struck that match / And went back to sleep / Lee atwater was on the corner / Turning tricks / Clutching the failed box set / Of his heartfelt blues licks / He said "I think I liked the ghetto better / When it was sick" / Razed to the ground / We knew it would burst into bloom / Healthy and good / Bayard Rustin smiled / And went back to sleep / Good morning, America
[lyrics by smart went crazy]
9-year old birthday party
December 10, 2005
I arrived home from the grocery store today, armed with the ingredients that will hopefully keep several hungy, video gaming mouths at bay for a number of hours this afternoon. Lucius ran out to me, waving a piece of paper in the air.
"You're not on the list!" He shouted.
Evidently, the children have spent the afternoon devising an elaborate security system for tonight's celebratory event. Lucius is the bouncer. Monk appears to be some sort of manager. They are communicating by walky-talky & at one point I overheard Monk telling Lucius, "I guess you can have a break...come inside and get a glass of water."
So, I guess the point is that you should try to come crash this party, as you are likely to get bounced at the door. However, if you grease a few palms, we might be able to make an exception for you.
I ain't seen the sunshine since I don't know when
December 9, 2005
I became suddenly inundated with long awaited reimbursements yesterday so, feeling rich, I took my housemate out to see the Johnny Cash Movie at the Alamo Drafthouse.
There have been a lot of conversations around here lately about the men I meet and my propensity to become enamored of depressed, morose, or otherwise dysfuntional men. Our propensity, I should say, as women. What Pansy and I can't figure out is if men are just destined to be that way...or what?
The movie only fed our discontent. Like many folks, I worship at the altar of Johnny Cash. I think he was a great musician and probably a great man, but watching an entire movie about a woman who saves a man and they went on to live happily ever after...when (according to Pansy, because I don't normally keep track of such things) the rocky road was just beginning, was incredibly frustrating. The entire movie, while wonderful, touching, beautiful, and gorgeous, can be summed up with one line:
Things don't just work themselves out...other people work things out, and you just think they work themselves out.
And, truly, this is the crux of the problem between men and women in my experience. Pansy had said earlier in the day that "Men do what they want to, and women do what they have to." - which is totally in the same spirit. Why are women so freaking wise and men so fucking adorably bumbling? And why is it that I can see that so clearly and yet still be attracted to bumbling doofus men?
Because, watching the movie...I was in love with Johnny Cash, too. I wanted to save him. I wanted to see him get well, and reach his potential. And I'm glad that it appears Johnny understood how very much June meant to him, and perhaps he even knew how much his very life, not to mention his fame and good name was due in large part to the women in his life who tolerated, supported, inspired, and lifted him...but do WE understand that? Not just about Johnny, and not just about men, even, but about society in general? How many women quietly do what needs to get done, while the men in their lives do what they want to? How many women stand by, leaving their desires unfulfilled while the men in their lives accomplish great things, or mediocrity...or nothing at all? How many women are out there making things work out, and making it look so easy that the men of the world can stand by thinking things "just work themselves out"? I know several, just off the top of my head.*
* Including fathers who decide not to exercise their right of visitation due to the weather, and then have the fucking audacity to turn around and try to make the mother feel like she's somehow turning the children against him...but that's another post entirely.
Speaking of Danger and Security...
December 8, 2005
The entire fucking city of Austin is closed for the day because it's a little cold outside.
This includes my job.
My inner Chicagoan is thinking, on the one hand..."Damn you, wimpy Texans!"
And on the other hand..."Woo hoo! Onward, wimpy Texans!
"Security is mostly a superstition."
December 8, 2005
Security is mostly a superstition. It does not exist in nature, nor do the children of humans as a whole experience it. Avoiding danger is no safer in the long run than outright exposure. Life is either a daring adventure or nothing." - Helen Keller
The Cost of Crazy & The Power of Logic
December 8, 2005
I totally appreciate the logical mind of Mr. Rowland, as he puzzles out the, as he calls it, "batshit crazy" assertion that killing a mentally ill person proves that armed air marshalls are necessary.
&, actually, it makes me wonder if my thoughts about logic vs. emotion are misguided. Perhaps it's just that most people apply logic in an illogical manner. When David makes the absolutely logical argument that the cost of gunning down people rather than attempting to provide care for them is detrimental to us as humans, it strikes an emotional chord AND it makes sense.
Thanks, Mr. Rowland. You are rocking my world this week.
There's a Fish in my Stomach
December 7, 2005
It's funny, I was just talking about The Handsome Family two minutes ago, and I came in to stare at the computer a bit and found a google hit for this old post:
I spent the night talking to him on the couch, but with my eye on the bedroom, but too afraid of an unnamed consequence. I had it all calculated in my head. How many steps to that darkened room, the door hanging invitingly open with the darkness of the bedroom spilling into the half-light of the room in which we were reclining, listening to handsome family laughing and reminiscing about the good old days.
And, like the music of The Handsome Family, it made me happy and sad all at the same time.
This photo cracks me up.
December 7, 2005
ahhhh...people.
[via randomwalks]
You Are Right To Be Afraid.
December 7, 2005
Tonight's walk started late. We had a sick kiddo in the house. She waited until her mom and dad were home to barf, which made me feel relieved and guilty all at the same time. I'm feeling that combination of emotions a lot lately, actually.
So, about the only thing I felt like I could do to stay out of the way of the barf cleanup squad was to take the dogs to the park to run, accompanied by my dear friend Michael's mix CD of Smart Went Crazy and Beauty Pill. The dogs romped for a bit, and then I brought Silky home so I could take Twyla out for a walk.
When we left, there was the slightest bit of icy drizzle. Word has it that there will be an ice storm tomorrow. I'm secretly hoping that work will be closed so I can, um, get some work done. Things are INSANE at work this week, and will continue to be so next week, as well. I have about a bajillion and a half things that I need to do, and I don't have enough time to do half of them.
But anyway, the drizzle was pleasant enough. I laughed at myself about halfway through because last night my wish was to have a silent partner on my walk, and I realized that my dog is my ideal walking companion. We were out for about an hour tonight, and when we were walking through the field again on the last leg, I had an urge to lay down and look up at the clouds & I remembered my old dream of finding a companion (romantic or otherwise) who would just lay in a field with me and look at the sky for long periods of time - without words or acts. I am determined to find that companion this year. I realized the other day that J was actually an ideal silent listening partner until the silent listening became a prelude to sex. Sex is great and everything, but I don't want that sacred time to be a prelude to anything except itself. Like how I used to give myself rewards for taking walks until I realized that the act of walking and being out and moving around was its own reward.
I'm so thankful to Clay and Pansy for enabling me to have that freedom of movement again. I missed it so much.
For Sale: One slightly used Limbo*
December 6, 2005
eBay.co.uk: Limbo (item 4424477850 end time 14-Dec-05 22:45:15 GMT)
[link via Bellman, where zwich also posted something hilarious about the alarmism surrounding Alito...as if there isn't enough to get alarmed about without kind of, sort of...well, going overboard. I mean, I'm as anti-christian as the next guy, but I also really believe there is such a thing as choosing your battles. Or maybe I've just been swayed to the Dark Side by Mr. Rowland's wit. I mean "Christmas is a green scab that must be picked from the skin of our culture. Ending its nutmeg scented hegemony is the next logical step in our ongoing war against religion. Sam "Yuletide" Alito cannot be allowed to stand in our way."...folks, that's absolutely swoon-worthy witty shit, right there..]
*Sorry, little old heathen me does not know if there is a difference between limbo and purgatory.
The undertone of "personal responsibility."
December 6, 2005
I keep reading and hearing things that consolidate, in totally simple terms, some things that I have been struggling to find words for. I just read this quote in an article written by Jeff Nygaard about abstinence, or morality-based sex and drug education in an old issue of Z Magazine. The article doesn't appear to be available online anymore, but I'll quote the pertinent section here:
The dominant culture in the United States emphasizes an ideal of "freedom" or "liberty" that is so extreme that it leaves out any notion of responsibility, a concept that is essential if we don't want "freedome" to degenerate into unbounded license. In the world of George W. Bush and other promoters of abstinence-based "morality" policies, each individual is alone responsible for his or her decisions. Whatever problems an individual has, in this view, are the result of some sort of moral failing on the part of the individual, whether it be "bad decisions" or "lack of self-discipline" or "weakness" or something else.And if an individual "fails" repeatedly, then it can be said that the individual is "bad" - that is, essentially bad, or evil - and there is no help for them. In this view, the only responsibility that the larger community - family, school, government - shoulders is teh responsibility to tell people what is right and wrong and then to reward them if they do "right" and punish them if they do "wrong." The fault and the responsibility for the transgression lies with that individual and that individual alone.
As Dana McGrath of George Washington Univeristy put it in a presentation at the International Women's Policy Research Conference in June of 2003, "By constructing the problems that teen mothers, for example, face as the result of 'bad choices' rather than preexisting economic or cultural disparities, the government and larger public can escape any responsibility for creating and perpetuating social inequalities."
So the average citizen, and the average policy-maker, has an interest in framing social problems as personal maral failings. Then they can say, "It's not my problem." That's an important part of why some of these failed "morality policies" continue to be popular. It's easy for elected officials to create and maintain policies that absolve their constituents of any responsibility for social problems.
Take THAT, all of you who crow on and on about "personal responsibility."
Oh, Thank you Anarchocyclist!
December 6, 2005
This is an awesome post about the many ways in which women exist on the bottom of the capitalist food chain, and is summed up nicely in this little snippet:
If women have guaranteed resources to get nutritious food, shelter, etc, then they will not be as susceptible to the power that men hold over them in our society.
But you should read the whole thing.
While I'm not a huge fan of organized atheism OR porn...
December 6, 2005
This cracks me right the fuck up!
XBiz - Students Trade Bibles for Porn
SAN ANTONIO — A group of atheists at the University of Texas at San Antonio is putting a novel twist on the toys-for-guns programs run by many urban police departments. But instead of toys, they are handing out porn in exchange for bibles.“We consider the bible to be a very negative force in the history of the world,” student Ryan Walker said. Walker is part of a student group that calls itself the Atheist Agenda.
[link via Pandagon]
Isn't that just like a racist...
December 6, 2005
I've been so busy writing these long, naval-gazer posts that I totally missed blog against racism day. Fuck!
While I'm sitting here feeling like a dweeb, you might as well read this post at Alas, A Blog.
If yr gonna dine with the cannibals...
December 6, 2005
Mr. Cave accompanied me and Miss Twyla on a lovely almost-winter night walk. It's a brisk 28 degrees in beautiful Austin, TX. My cheeks are appropriately red and chilled like refrigerated apples. Twyla brims and bursts when it's cold outside. She has virtually no fat and no real fur to speak of...she's sinewy sleek & slender, and quite beautiful to behold as she rocking-horses and gazelles through the field.
My CD player went out halfway through the walk. I was listening to Abbatoir Blues, and Nick Cave was singing about "Hiding All Away" and suddenly there was silence, and I started to wonder how much of this need for loud music is interfering with a real need for silence...so I was sort of glad that the batteries died, even though I used it as an excuse to cut my walk short.
As I breathed, I was remembering my life in Chicago & my sweet David Raven who would come home from working the graveyard shift and snuggle with me in bed, putting his cold cold hands on my face and belly. And how he smelled like snow and ash. And how even though it was really frigid, it was incredibly warm. And remembering that warmth makes the cold more comforting somehow. Beating, bleeding, bruised, bleating, banging...but always unbeaten.
NICK CAVE & THE BAD SEEDS lyrics
"NICK CAVE & THE BAD SEEDS Cannibal's Hymn lyrics"
You have a heart and I have a key
Lie back and let me unlock you
Those heathens you hang with down by the sea
All they want to do is defrock you
I know a river, where we can dream
It will swell up, burst it's banks,
babe, and rock you
But if you're gonna dine with them cannibals
Sooner or later, darl