sleeplessgrl

2009-10-17T16:04:00.003-04:00

It's Chili Time!

The leaves are turning, and the air is crisp in the morning. I love fall! And what I love about it even more than changing leaves and crisp air is the food. I love fall baking, cinnamon, nutmeg, anything with pumpkin in it. I also love that the slight chill in the air means that it's time for hearty soups and chili.

I have a big pot of George's Chili simmering on the stove.
George is my wonderful Stepdad who I adore and who makes killer chili.

Brown and drain ground sirloin
Chop one medium onion
Chop one clove of garlic
Chop two large jalapenos
Chop one bell pepper
Add crushed tomatoes
Add chili beans medium or hot
Add chili powder
Simmer for two and a half hours

What follows are several chili based meals we've made with George's Chili.
Chili with a side salad and a baguette
Chili on mashed potatoes
Chili with cheddar and sour cream
Chili with a grilled cheese sandwich
Chili and cheddar smothered hot dog
Chili on scrambled eggs

2009-10-16T21:50:00.007-04:00

At the beginning of each semester I reel from run-ons, grow faint from fragments, but more than that is the ship of despair launched by the lack of imagination, the lack of interest and the lack wonder. I want to ask, "Why are you here?"

I know, they've been told a college degree will lead to higher pay, that it's all about some future job. I think this is where we steer them wrong. College should be less about the job and more about learning, discovering, mastering. It should never be about the end but about the process.

I'm new to teaching, and after four semesters I'm thinking about walking away. I feel disheartened, and more than a little hamstrung. When did grammar become so outmoded, so yesterday? My guided curriculum has weeded out as much grammar and writing that's possible in an English class. What do I teach you may ask? Watered down critical thinking and watered down semiotics, how to read your textbooks without really reading them. My students, zero attention span, zero tolerance for anything unrelated to that future post college job, how do I help them jump ship from degrees=dollar signs to real learning? I think these courses are failing them, which means I, in turn, am failing them.

When I was in high school, I was told college wasn’t for me. Specifically, I was told my ideal job would be mortician. The test my high school advisor gave me, which supposedly matched personalities to jobs, couldn’t have known that in the fifth grade my class took a tour of Steinke’s funeral home, and when we arrived at the embalming area I passed out. The test also told me that the military might be an option. I chose the military, but with an eye on the prize, money for college. Regardless of whether or not college was for me (there was no way to pay for it at the time), I wanted it. I was thirsty for it, and when I got it, it was everything I wanted it to be, terrifying, challenging, exciting. I wanted to know everything.

It’s not important to know everything now. It’s more important to have an opinion, or better yet, it’s more important to have someone else’s opinion. I remember my first moment of triumph in college, shaking with nerves but entering class discussion anyway, being part of that exchange of ideas and wading chest deep in the text. It was thrilling. I thought THIS, this is learning. If my students can’t find it on Google or Wikipedia, it’s not worth knowing. If I want their opinion, I can count on receiving any number of random opinions copied from CNN, late night talk shows, random pop stars, various friends and relatives, and anyone with a blog, a MySpace or Facebook page, or Twitter account. They don’t need to know stuff or have an opinion because all of that is just a click away.

My students are all involved in the arts: fine arts, photography, animation, etc. and that these students lack imagination disturbs me. Yes this is a core course, a writing course, but they come at my courses with the weariness of factory workers five years from retirement. They shun freedom and crave parameters. Give them the opportunity to choose their paper topic, and they freeze. I get a chorus of, "What do you want us to do?" They want me to tell them what to write, how to write it, and if possible they would like me to write it for them. The irony is that when they have parameters they completely disregard them or claim they don't understand them. They never ask questions.

I take that back, they ask one question. What's my grade? They want to know because grades=degrees that=dollar signs.

My students consume their courses like the good capitalists that they are. Why should courses be different than anything else bought or sold? They want it cheap and fast. Getting their money’s worth isn’t about acquiring knowledge, but about acquiring that piece of paper at the end. We’ve convinced them of that. A college degree equals a better job and more money. No one ever says going to college is this amazing opportunity for you to try things on, to explore, to learn, to discover your passion and nurture it. We’ve made it about the money, and so it’s about the money.

I didn't anticipate the soul sucking after effects of teaching.

2008-09-27T05:36:00.001-04:00

Found!!!!!

Guess who strolled back into the yard just now! (3:28 a.m.) I have no idea what happened, why she jumped out of the window or where she went, but I just heard her lovely basset-like bark in the yard and I flew out of bed and there she was at the door. We have informed her that she is grounded for life. Thank goodness! Any idea how to keep a Houdini dog from escaping? She eats airline kennels for breakfast (metal ones too, so no kennels.) Any advice is welcome.

2008-09-27T01:07:00.001-04:00

Missing!!!!

REWARD!!!

Her name is Chloe. She is eight years old. She suffers from extreme separation anxiety. No questions asked. We just want her back.

2008-08-28T14:31:00.008-04:00

Size Matters: Madness at the dog park, or Who Made You Queen of the Dog Park?

Steph and Chloe hit the Bullshead dog park today after dropping me off at work. We take Chloe there often because of the proximity to work. The park is split into two sections, a big dog area and a small dog area. Until today Chloe has been able to enjoy the benefits of being neither a big or a small dog. She's a basset hound/retriever mix weighing in at 35 pounds. She's stout and strong and while she shares some characteristics of the retriever, her attitude is all basset. She spends her time at dog park and on walks with her nose firmly turned to the ground. She's easy going, but standoffish. Typically Steph and Chloe going to the dog park is not really note worthy, today however, Steph called immediately after with a truly bizarre tale.

Chloe has never really had to pick a side of the park. She enjoys small dogs and is not an exuberant greeter. Her trend is to do a casual sniff and greet then mosey around the edge of the park and occasionally yodel to the prairie dogs on the other side of the fence. And while she enjoys small dogs, she also has many buddies of the XXL persuasion.

Today when Steph and Chloe entered the dog park (on the big dog side) she was approached by a woman wearing a humane society t-shirt who was very nervous and concerned about one of her dogs (she had two malamutes). She said it was big dog play time and pointed out that Chloe had short legs and should therefore be on the small dog side. Steph, not really wanting a confrontation, said that that was where they were headed.

When they were preparing to leave a little while later she was hoping this woman was already gone, but there she was hovering near the divide of big vs. small dogs. All the other big dogs and owners were completely cleared out, and she stood there peeking over to the small dog side. As soon as Steph and Chloe crossed into the big dog side this woman came up to them, offered to carry our dog to the other gate, and then tried to pick her up.

I completely freaked out when Steph told me. I can't believe a complete stranger would try and pick up our dog. She's not tiny and she's not light, and she wasn't having any of it. She barked at the woman and backed away. Steph told her that if she was worried about her dog, then her dog was the problem. She also told her that technically Chloe is not considered a small dog and is in fact ten pounds over the small dog limit. Then more madness from this complete stranger.

She tried to talk to Steph about how she had volunteered for the humane society and had learned some things about dogs and how they have teeth (really? news to us!), again Steph said if she was worried about what her dog might do to another dog at the dog park, she was the one with the problem. Then she made it seem like Steph didn't care about Chloe's well-being or her dog's well-being...she said she just wanted to have a relaxing time at the dog park, as if it was Steph's fault that she couldn't....as if Steph and Chloe didn't also want a relaxing time at the dog park.

Madness really, all of it, as none of the dogs behaved badly according to Steph. (Chloe was not remotely interested in her dogs, which is not unusual for her.) And I can only imagine the reason the entire park was cleared out by the time Steph and Chloe were ready to leave. And I can't imagine how the dogs could relax at all with this woman on the verge of a full on meltdown. The thing is that I am somewhat sympathetic with the idea of not really knowing what your rescue dog has been through, what might or might not be an issue.

Chloe's full story is one for the ages. Rescued from the pound after two previous "incarcerations", she came to us with crippling separation anxiety (a complete surprise to us at the time, though in hindsight it shouldn't have been surprising at all). There were vet visits, behavior experts to our house, everything short of an exorcism was done to help ease her blind panic at being left alone. After many years of working with her, and by years I mean 6 years worth of working with her, she has settled down. Aside from this one thing (and it was a big thing for awhile) she is perfect for us, sweet, loving, and her personality is very matched with Steph's which is even funnier if you know Steph. When we are out and about at some of our usual places people recognize Chloe before us. Even at her standoffish best she makes an impression. My point, in a long, rambling way, is that Chloe is intrepid, and is also kind of a rock star, but also that being responsible for a dog that has "issues" is also incredibly stressful.

That said, if she was worried or nervous about how her dog would act around a smaller dog, there are all kinds of things she can do to be smarter and safer. A muzzle comes to mind (though I'm not sure about this, not being an expert in this maybe someone else has a better idea), and I know for a fact that there are classes that can help address issues of dog on dog aggression. But the bottom line is that the responsibility is still on the dog owner. You can shout to the rooftops that you're concerned, that your dog may or may not have issues, but your dog's actions are still your responsibility. Telling people there is a potential problem doesn't make the problem go away either.

Taking your dog to the dog park involves risk. We've seen dogs get into it over something or other. We've seen people do some not smart things in the dog park i.e. fast food eating with children, or the Three Dog Bakery birthday cake for "Fido". That said, we have personally never had a confrontation or issue until today. And as much as it was bizarre, it was also ridiculous and upsetting that a complete stranger would label Steph as a poor dog owner and our dog a problem when clearly the problem was hers.

2008-08-25T16:26:00.011-04:00

Working my way out of a funk: getting dirty, growing things, feeding people.

After talking with a friend of mine who is the garden coordinator for Hope's Half Acre, I jumped on board as a volunteer waterer, weeder, and all around garden helper. I was in a funk at the beginning of the summer and this was just the thing to do to work through it. I love gardening, and since my home garden mostly consists of potted plants and vegetables, it felt good getting my hands in the dirt. It's hard to describe exactly what it is, that hour or so weeding and watering, the sun on my back, sweating, dirt under my nails, my mind clear and focused on the task at hand, the camaraderie of fellow dirt worshipers. As part of Project Share, the garden provides fresh produce for Albuquerque's working poor and homeless, an added bonus that our hard work and enjoyment does some good.

I'm posting pics, a list of what we would like to do, and some things we need to do them.

Fall Planting, what we need:
1 yard of compost
truck to move compost
volunteers (we need folks to help shovel, weed, plant, etc.)
seeds (greens, anything food related that can be planted in fall)
handymen/women (we need folks that can build wood frames)
lumber (preferably 2x4 or 4x4)
straw

Flowers and herbs along the front fence:
perennials that attract bees and humming birds
herbs: basil, thyme, rosemary, lavender, mint.

WHAT WE'VE GOT GROWING RIGHT NOW

tomatoes

onions
kale
eggplant
squash
zucchini
corn
peppers
beans

If you want to get in on the action, contact me at donnatellanutella@gmail.com for the time and location.

2008-08-21T20:11:00.002-04:00

We almost hit two boys on Central.

Two boys made it to their bus on time but nearly lost their lives. We were driving down Central singing to Duffy’s “Mercy” and thinking about chocolate shakes. Our original plan was to hit the Route 66 Diner because a diner and a shake seemed just the thing. We arrived and got seated by the cashier who, he informed us, would also take our order. We waited happily anticipating shakes, talking about our day. After about twenty minutes we realized he had taken the order of the two women sitting behind us who had just arrived. Then he checked on the couple behind us with the mega banana split. Steph gave me this look like, “What are we invisible now?” We decided that since he didn’t bring us anything but menus, we would head to Flying Star instead. We liked their shakes, and we were pretty sure that we wouldn’t be ignored. For a change we decided on the one downtown since we were already headed in that direction. I thought why not, change of scenery. I think we’d been to that one once in the entire time they’ve been open. Then we almost hit two young school aged boys (late grade school/early middle school) crossing Central to catch the 66 bus. And by almost hit, I mean we seriously almost hit them. We saw them in the island median waiting for traffic to pass. We were going the speed limit. What we didn’t notice was the bus at the bus stop on our far right. They took a chance and with no warning for us, darted across Central. Steph slammed on the brakes swearing in a loose, panic stricken stream of profanity ending in something like a prayer. The boys were oblivious, triumphant, the fasted kids on two feet, freakin’ Superman had nothing on them. They were not at an intersection, there was no crosswalk. One minute they were standing in the median and the next they were right in front of us. I know they know better. I know their parents would be horrified.

For two shaky hours that followed I know both of us were running what if scenarios through our minds. And after two shaky hours a brief thought, a flicker of a remembrance of the delirious exuberance of youth translated into a full on reminiscence of every stupid, nervy, and potentially life threatening thing I ever did as a kid growing up in rural Indiana. It really is the same everywhere, rural, urban, there are things to be tried, limits to test, risks to take. We took them with railroad tracks, “borrowed” cars and country roads, water towers, bridges, the river that ran through town. I remember doing nearly the same thing on my bike, racing through an intersection without stopping, causing a series of cars to slam on their brakes. It was so close I thought I could feel the press of a bumper against my leg as I flew past, and as I parked my bike in the rack outside the library my legs shook so hard I could barely stand. And then with a little distance, the slam of adrenaline, I imagine that once they were on the bus and on their way home it hit them too, the wild luck of it all. Of course in my case, pulling that kind of stunt meant that someone was going to (and did) call my mother.

There are so many stories, and yes, there were a few stunts I truly regret. But when I think about the best part of growing up, many of these times, the stupid, impulsive, dangerous ones are some of my best memories, filled with a kind of wildness that I will never recapture, the kind of freedom I still dream about, and the kind of daring I wish I still had.

2008-08-03T19:09:00.000-04:00

Mamma Mia!

In this dreadful post graduate school quest for a real full time job with benefits, in this soul sucking, incredibly demeaning time, there is Mamma Mia! A summer movie that is what summer movies ought to be, sweet, fresh, funny, surprising, and surprisingly beautiful; I’ve seen it three times, once for every week that it has been out at the theater. My plan is to keep on going until I decide to run away and start my all girl band, or I get a real job, whichever comes first.

The first time Steph and I went to see it we met up with a couple of other similarly minded girlfriends: enjoys musicals, must love ABBA, be willing to embrace silliness. It all made this movie going experience as fun and memorable as it was meant to be, in my opinion. Several of us decided that no matter what, out of respect for other movie going patrons, we would quash our boisterous singing of the ABBA über pop, or at the very least, we would keep it to a minimum. A week before the movie opened it was all ABBA all the time in preparation. We burned up ABBA Gold, singing Waterloo while doing the dishes, weeding the garden to Fernando, spinning around the floor with our broom while belting Dancing Queen. We loved Muriel’s Wedding, and we knew this would be more…much more. We were ready. And we weren’t disappointed.

I have a confession to make. I love Meryl Streep, and I knew she could sing, so I was excited to see her in a musical. I also love Pierce Brosnan, who should probably never sing, but I wouldn’t have wanted him any other way. How he has changed for me over time. From my teenage years completely hooked on Remington Steele, to Bond, James Bond, to Julian, the Assassin on the verge of a nervous breakdown in The Matador, and now Mamma Mia! The cast of Mamma Mia! is fantastic. And I have to say, as much as I love Meryl Streep, Julie Waters is my girl in this movie.

So our first showing we laughed so much, deftly hummed our favorites under our breath and full on laughed, deep, belly shaking, and in some cases hiccup inducing laughter. We, unbeknownst to us when we took our seats, managed so sit in the rowdy section. It was exactly what I needed that day. It was obvious the women behind us loved ABBA, and the movie, and they were not shy about expressing it. I went home, made a mojito and jumped back into the fray of job applications. But before we left the theater I said let’s see it every week that it’s open in the theater. Everyone nodded; we were on an ABBA/Mamma Mia! induced high.

The following week proved even more stressful than the last, a round of applications out and barely a nibble, personal writing projects sliding into disrepair if not out right neglect. We needed ABBA and we needed it now! Another weekend matinee, this one packed with women and girls. It was a rowdy bunch, just our type, laughing out loud, singing along. A woman my age was on my right and sang every song to her daughter. They walked from the theater hand in hand swinging their arms, their walk more a bounce than a walk really. It’s what this music and this show does if you let it. It fills you up with positive, dare I say, vibes.

We went back again today after a week of interviews, and a teaching demonstration, my first (terrifying!) It was a more subdued group at the theater this afternoon, with the exception of a contingency of women sitting behind us, who, like us, had seen the movie before and were ready to have a good time. How we always manage to land in the rowdy group I’ll never know. Mostly folks my parent’s age and older attended this afternoon, though there were still mothers and daughters dotting the theater. The effects were the same for us, happiness, laughter, how could I love it more each time I don’t know, but I like the way it makes me feel. Watching the happy, bouncing, theater goers streaming out to hit the bathrooms or the exit, I know it’s not just me.

I know I’ll own this movie. We own a bunch of movies that we watch over and over again for reasons that only make sense to us, Finding Nemo, Love Actually, any of the Harry Potter movies, Under the Tuscan Sun, Miss Congeniality one and two, The Jane Austen Book Club. Whatever we’re missing at a given time, hopefulness, a sense of innocence or wonder, love, laughter, these movies provide it. They knock us out of our funks, brighten our days, motivate us to try, to care, to love. They dare us to laugh until soda comes out our nose. We watch them in p.j.s while eating junk. We don’t care. It’s comforting, and sometimes it’s just what we need.

People might question the idea of paying even matinee prices every week to see the same movie. But in a time before the multiplex choices were limited, people went to see their favorites over and over again because they weren’t available on high definition blue ray disc. They weren’t available for home viewing at all. Movies got people out of the house, sometimes out of the heat. More importantly, they got people together.

And when I own my high definition blue ray disc of Mamma Mia!, and I curl up in my favorite pajamas with a bag of gummy worms, I’ll think of the rowdys we laughed with, the mother who sang to her daughter, the senior citizens who went for Meryl Streep and left the theater with a bounce in their step.

2008-03-22T02:17:00.035-04:00

ROAD TRIP!

Steph is the perfect person to road trip with.

She loves great music and thinks nothing of singing loud and long to any number of musical styles.

She loves to sample local cuisine.

She doesn't mind driving.

She enjoys long, mostly nonsensical, conversations along the lines of "What would we do if we won the lottery?"

We decided to drive to Durango from Albuquerque. It was a doable trip for the amount of time we could spend. We would drive up, spend the night, and drive back.

The landscape heading north was great.

Here are some samples.

It looked like this,

and then it looked like this.

And then we were there.

The Animas River

Chloe
liked it...

a lot.

The trails along the river were awesome.

Chloe got her feet wet.

So did we!

Saw this cool sticker on a pole along the trail.

It was a beautiful day.

I've been here once before when I was a kid.
I wasn't sure, but when I told dad we made this trip
he confirmed it for me. We got lost on our cross-country
trip from Indiana to California. I don't really remember
it, like most of that trip, only a few things stick out for me
and the rest are likely remembering the pictures from the
trip rather than the events. It was just a feeling that I'd been
there before.

The town is quaint. I love the architecture.

Chloe has on her new Durango bandana.
Durango and Silverton Narrow Gauge Railroad

We had the best dinner at this place.

Candied Walnut Gorgonzola Salad--Field greens, sliced red grapes, red onion and raspberry vinaigrette


Pepper Steak Herbert--Seared Filet Mignon, peppered mango chutney, flamed with brandy served on a bed of garlic mashed potatoes.

The pork tenderloin with cheesy grits, bacon, cherry tomatoes, and corn.

A bread basket with sweet and savory breads and spreads.

And

Blackberry Martinis.

Steph and I after blackberry martinis. Self portrait gone wild.

We had a blast in Durango...and and even better time on the trip home.
Road Trip II coming soon!

Music

Bella Luna--a swingy jazzy compilation cd we had a lot of fun with.

1. A Shot In The Dark -- Henry Mancini
2. Guaglione -- Marino Marini
3. La Bambola -- Patty Pravo
4. Buona Sera -- Louis Prima & Keely Smith
5. Come On-A My House -- Rosemary Clooney
6. The Good, The Bad, and The Ugly -- Hugo Montenegro & His Orchestra
7. Sotto Le Stelle Del Jazz -- Paolo Conte
8. Return To Me (Ritorna da Me) -- Dean Martin
9. Mack The Knife -- Bobby Darin
10. O Sole Mio -- Mario Lanza
11. Tu Vuo Fa' L'Americano -- Renato Carosone And His Sextet
12. Lazy Mary (Luna Mezzo Mare) -- Lou Monte, Joe Reisman & His Orchestra
13. Amarcord -- Nino Rota

We also enjoyed the following:
Funk This-Chaka Khan
Little Voice-Sara Bareilles
girls and boys-ingrid michaelson
Corinne Bailey Rae
Begin to Hope-Regina Spektor
Sleep Through the Static-Jack Johnson

2008-01-08T22:49:00.000-05:00

My Winter Holiday: a list

Snow joggers and dog walkers

Salt rimmed pant legs

Juno

Civic ice skaters

Twin Cities

The Wire

Snow

Cold

Windy City

White lights

Castles

The World on a Wall

Blue collar skyscrapers

Architectural wonders

Metallic Millennium

River/Bridge/River/Bridge

Walking

More walking

More cold

Corncob towers

House of Blues
cornbread
mojitos

Beware of falling icicles

Monkey bread

Czarinas in fur coats

Yellow Slicker Wearing Traffic Directors

Cheesecake Factory banana

National Treasure: Book of Secrets

Elevator word play

Cosmopolitans

ABQ friends

Cafe Descartes

Brother and Sister

Swirling Snowflake Symphony Conducting

Dangling Window Washers

Modified Condom Hat Wearers

Gigantic Reflective Bean

Elevator tag

Gummy bears in limos

Rosebud

Ghirardelli treats

FAMILY

The Field
Sue
Red buttons

Riding in the way back of the Hyundai

Lou Malnati's

Freezing rain/snow

Zippy Metra

Wrong station/huge farts

Warm car

Warm house

Warm friends

Fun kids

Sangrias

Bacon wrapped brandied dates=love

Our favorite Chi-Town neighborhood

Meeting a friend again
for the first time
and in person

Bittersweet airport parting

2007-11-28T16:39:00.000-05:00

Central Avenue Bus

Sat next to Johnny Cash...tall man dressed in black, spent some time talking to himself about respect. Wore his hair long and in a ponytail, and he sounded the part, like he might break out in song about some lonesome whistle blowing. His shoes were shined, I wonder where he was headed.

Young man I did not look at...sat in the back, somewhere to my left, whispered murderous threats toward the bus driver every time the bus stopped to let someone off and pick someone up. I think about it, murderous mumuring, how at some point words turn into actions. I've ridden the bus for years and haven't seen it yet.

Tommy Lee Jones tried to get on the bus with a UNM i.d. and no sticker. He was older. Heck, he was Tommy Lee Jones. But he carried a skateboard, wore a bandana and a cowboy hat. When the driver refused to let him on without paying, he skateboarded up central. Three stops later a pretty young co-ed offered the same i.d. with no sticker. She got her ride for free.

2007-11-28T00:33:00.001-05:00

Saying Everything

A friend once said to me, "You say everything." She meant it as a joke. I've been walking around with these words for years, chewing them over, thinking on them. She was right. I do say everything. I rationalized that since I spent the first half of my life keeping secrets, not saying anything, not daring an opinion, not challenging authority, that I could certainly spend the rest of my life putting it all out there, learning from my mistakes as I go. It is a reckless way to live, this. To put your heart and your words out there, with the idea that the experience and the feedback will add to your knowledge and inform your choices. You have to trust that those closest to you understand the whys and the wherefores because you've laid it all out on the table. It must be reactionary, my need to shout from the rooftops, "See me. Hear me." as though I need some external proof for my existence. But saying everything, all these words cast, feels burdensome. I regret none, but still I carry them, feel heavy with them like Atlas felt the weight of the world. Maybe after so many years of finding and exercising my voice, I'm ready again for silence, contemplation. Tonight I stargaze, a way to switch gears, find my center.

From Weight: The myth of Atlas and Hercules by Jeanette Winterson

Potassium, like uranium and radium, is a long-lived radioactive nuclear waste of the supernova bang that accounts for you. Your first parent was a star.

2007-11-27T01:57:00.000-05:00

A small announcement and another movie...

My cat lays pressed up next to my laptop and I think he just caused it to overheat.

I'm Not There

What an amazing movie. I like Bob Dylan's music, but I'm not an aficionado, still I walked away with an idea of the complexity of the man and of the history he lived through. I don't know much about technical film language, but the structure and methodology called to mind Jeanette Winterson for some reason. I think the non-linear storytelling, the pastiche, the character arcs that seemed individual but necessary in getting at the larger idea of the man, of his life. It was stunning to watch. I'm not sure this concept would have worked to represent anyone but Dylan. Cate Blanchett is a wonder in this film. I really don't want to over talk this...just go see the movie.

A final note...it is likely that since I have enjoyed, what?, five movies in a row? I predict the next movie I see will disappoint. No way I could go six for six. Lets hope I'm wrong. :-)

2007-11-21T20:02:00.000-05:00

August Rush

I thought this movie was beautiful. Everything in it is improbable, but if you suspend disbelief, it's beautiful. The trailer let's us know that this is the story--orphan boy and musical prodigy, feels a connection to his biological parents through music and thinks that if he puts his music out there they'll hear him and find him. I knew that to get it I would have to step into the reality the film sets up, not the reality we live in. It's visually stimulating, a wheat field in the wind, icy telephone wires down a long cold road, the jarring images of the city, and all of the sights match the incredible sounds in brilliant tapestry. Life sounds and music combine the way the music of his cellist mother and Irish guitarist father combine on screen. Freddie Highmore is wonderful as the boy who hears music everywhere and in everything. The supporting case is great, beautiful, fragile, but most importantly, their performances are truly supporting performances, which allows Highmore to shine. Worth the price of admission and the price of the soundtrack that's on my list for Santa.

2007-11-05T18:38:00.000-05:00

The Martian Child

Three things sold me on this movie. 1. John Cusack 2. The trailer 3. The concept.

I typically like whatever John Cusack is in, and I saw the trailer for this when I saw another movie, not sure which one. The concept is the real seller for me though, a science fiction writer adopts a kid who thinks he's from Mars. The kid is great in this movie. Played by Bobby Coleman, Dennis isn't just playground weird. Never in this movie is the audience expected to believe that Dennis hasn't been through some traumatic stuff, and yet he's not just some tragic sympathetic character, he's an intrepid scientist, an explorer from another planet, a smart kid who devised an incredibly complex and ingenious coping mechanism. He seems heroic in a way, light years ahead of the adults around him in some ways, woefully unprepared for the world in others. Pair him with a sci fi writer somewhat out of his element as a parent but completely in his element when dealing with Martians and other creatures, and it's magic. Yes, it's Hollywood magic. But so what. I don't care. I love the way the story unfolds, the way Dennis negotiates Earth, the way Cusack's character, David, negotiates single fatherhood, the parallels of both of them grieving something. A good movie, beautifully shot...I enjoyed all but the scenes with Angelica Houston and Oliver Platt, which surprised me because I typically like both of them...but in this movie...they were too much...too dramatic and cartoonish.

Hurray for three movies in a row that I have enjoyed.

2007-11-03T16:38:00.000-04:00

The great multiplex conspiracy...

I thought I would go see a matinee of The Martian Child today, but no. This and a couple of other movies are only showing after regular price tickets kick in. I have to wait until Monday to see this movie at the matinee price. I realize that for some, to quibble over three dollars is silly, but it means the difference between movie and popcorn or just the movie. And so I wait, and curse the multiplex big wigs for not offering this film during matinee hours today. Now I am stuck with cleaning, and dreaded paperwork I've been neglecting, and writing that best seller, and buying my lottery ticket, because spending a dollar on a once in a lifetime opportunity is all the financial plan I can afford.

2007-10-28T22:21:00.000-04:00

Dan in Real Life

Another movie that wasn't a disappointment. Another movie trailer that lived up to the hype. So I enjoyed The Jane Austen Book Club...I didn't write about it because I didn't want to spoil it for a friend who reads this blog and hadn't seen the movie yet. The only thing I will say about it is that I plan to add it to my collection when it comes out on dvd.

On to Dan in Real Life. I have to confess that I didn't want to be a Steve Carell fan. I know The Office is brilliant, but I haven't added it to my list of must see t.v. I see him the way I used to see Jim Carrey before Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind. I was drawn to the movie because of the trailer...but I was wary. I remember well the debacles that were Evening and Feast of Love. I was pleasantly surprised. Again, this isn't ground breaking. It's not incredibly thought provoking. It is, however, exactly what it professed to be in the trailer, funny, poignant, filled with likable characters. Juliette Binoche was lovely as the complicated love interest, Marie. And as always, Dianne Weist was great. Dan was a lovably flawed character, relate-able, terminally awkward, heroically funny, all around good guy. And I enjoyed Steve Carell in this the way I enjoy John Cusack in pretty much anything. This film was what I wanted, funny/sad, complex/simple, full of romance and heartbreak, with a satisfying ending. I wasn't disappointed. It was definitely worth the price of the matinée and the absolute highway robbery that is popcorn and a coke at the multiplex.

2007-10-21T04:23:00.000-04:00

A funny aside regarding haircuts.

The context.

There are very few things Steph and I splurge on, good haircuts are one of those things. And since we've lived in Albuquerque we have had Lindsey at the Nob Hill Mark Pardo Salon as our goto gal.

The situation.
The first dilemma Steph faced on relocating (even if temporarily) to Minnesota was the haircut. She has wicked thick hair and a bad cut really stands out.

The solution.
So she did her homework and found a suitable temporary Lindsey stand-in. She calls to tell me how it went, says it's a little too short, but overall, not bad. Oh and by the way, she says, the women who cut my hair just cut the Princess of Norway's hair.
It's still not Lindsey. She is loyal, my love is...and stubborn. You would think that the woman who cuts the Princess of Norway's hair would be great...but no...it was okay...but not the same. ta da! The Princess of Norway! LOL! Dr. Gustafson is seriously in the land of her peeps. Ya, you betcha!

2007-09-30T13:32:00.001-04:00

TOUCHDOWN!!!!!!

2007-09-30T12:46:00.000-04:00

Okay Babies...It's game time! Brett Favre goes for the all time pass record.
He COULD......GO.......ALL......THE.......WAY!!!!!!

2007-09-29T19:22:00.000-04:00

Feast of Love more like a Famine

I am loath to put this in the category of the level of disappointment I had regarding the movie Evening. But there's no way around it. First, it was badly shot. Jump cuts used this terrible fade to black followed by the sound of thunder and rain multiple times, which was neither artistic nor particularly poigniant or funny. I tried hard for this movie which really needed to decide if it was a tragedy or a comedy...it certainly wasn't a tragicomedy, that perfect blend of wit/morose. The voice over and the dialog tell us what we're supposed to know rather than the scenes allowing us to infer meaning. I don't know if this is a problem inherent to screenplays from books, but I don't think so. The Hours is a good example of book, screenplay, excellent movie. There were some beautiful lines about love, but most of them were in the realm of trite, overdone, or already been done before. I loved the idea of Morgan Freeman and Jane Alexander in this movie, but their story line didn't allow for great chemistry. The young couple, their love so aptly described in terms of Romeo and Juliet, were rather naive and after school special-ish. Bradley and his search for the perfect partner in love is initially not very likealbe/clueless, and turns out rather okay. The biggest problem is that at a point in the movie it is stated (in a voice over) that Bradley is friends with his previous two wives and their respective partners, one who left him for a woman and one who left him for a man. The final scenes show all these people together as friends with the exception of the lesbian couple so prevalent in the first third of the movie. They disappear completely from the narrative while all the other couples add to our understanding of love and the human condition. If this is a feast of love, where are my lesbians at? There was too much dark and not enough light in this movie, or if it needed to be dark, then let it be so, complete story lines, illuminate the demons a little more. Something. So while Feast looked promising, another misleading trailer, I found nothing to sustain me.

2007-09-28T10:47:00.001-04:00

A quick list of movies I want to see posted here so that I don't forget that I want to see them...will likely add more.

Feast of Love
Martian Child
August Rush
The Jane Austen Book Club

Reviews to follow.

Also, movies from the Southwest Gay and Lesbian Film Festival I want to see.

Itty Bitty Titty Committee (This is on Netflix as well.)
Nina's Heavenly Delights (Also available on Netflix when it comes out.)
Finn's Girl
Shelter Me
Vivere

2007-09-27T02:00:00.000-04:00

Though I love living in the city, some days it would be easier to see it from the passenger side of a car. On the way in to work I saw a woman, clearly intoxicated and screaming about "that Bitch" at the top of her lungs, nearly get mowed down by a car as she weaved off the sidewalk and into traffic. I was at my second bus stop at San Mateo and Central. My first, Central and Yale, yielded students, homeless or semi-homeless, recent parolees, and a smattering (okay there were three of us) of commuters. What is it with criminals who haven't been caught yet and criminals newly released that make them participate in bizarro bus ride confessions to their buddies sitting next to them, or loudly to some girl on the phone they're desperate to impress? This a.m. a current criminal and new parolee discussed their various and sundry incarcerations, criminal describing two warrants he knows he "has out on his ass." Then once the parolee jumps off at Nob Hill, the criminal phones his girl, asks her to hook him up with a job...his main question, "Does it require a drug test?" I sat at San Mateo and Central completely blanking on any number I could call so that someone could come out and pick the drunk woman up before she really did end up roadkill. After work, I ran over to the bus stop at the VA and as I was approaching I noticed a short stocky man and the driver in a heated altercation. A man in a wheelchair needed to get out of the bus and Shorty tried to hop on before that man had exited. The bus driver asked him to step off and let the man out. Shorty completely blew a fuse and had a full on meltdown. Central is tricky for a variety of reasons, bus patrons might be some of the most diverse of all the routes and the most populated. San Mateo, particularly on the end I travel is often full of veterans, and any number of mild to serious issues they might be rehabbing. I'm a veteran and I've seen the tragedies written in their bodies, the texture of their skin, their walk, the way they hold themselves upright as we bounce along, proud, but stiff, like they're made of metal. The smells make me think of hospitals, nursing homes, a city street at night, piss and vomit beneath neon lights. In all of that there is something hopeful, even beautiful about them. Whatever Shorty's issue, it wasn't about stepping back, the guy in the wheelchair, or the bus driver. He turned and walked back in the building.

I walked Chloe on campus this evening before dusk. We just caught the Sandias in their pink and purple glow. Campus walking isn't unlike taking the bus. I encounter patterns, young women and men (sometimes older) who want to stop and talk about Chloe, or who pause long enough to say, "Cute dog!" And people who walk past us like we're invisible. I hate to put a face on this but sorority sisters, you know it's you, though there is the occasional sideways look of disdain, but hey, I'm not dressing for you. I saw a bevy of dachshunds tonight and Chloe loved them all because she is a traitor and only loves small dogs. To be fair their owners were nice and they were very well behaved and cute. I also saw what could only be described as late 90's prom hair topping off what looked to be typical flip flops, jeans and double layered tank tops. And there are always those caught up in what ever it is they're doing, playing music, skateboarding. Tonight it was a painter set up by the duck pond. The other night it was a couple of musicians singing a Brian Adams song (I think it was Brian Adams), only I didn't know they were really playing it, I thought it was a radio. They were siting in the Center of the Universe art piece, and their sound was amazing. On a sad note, what's with the trash people? There was so much garbage in the grass around the duck pond. If I didn't have my hands full with Chloe I would have done a little trash duty tonight. It makes me sad to see it like that. Hell, the school kids over the summer do a better job picking up after themselves. Still, an enjoyable walk.

I miss Steph. I miss the car, the two of us driving on a Saturday, a slow morning before errands, a splurge trip down Rio Grande to catch the sunset (we're never up early enough to see it rise.) I like riding with my left hand tucked under the edge of her right thigh. I like listening to her sing along with the radio or whatever cd we have in. I like it when she sings unguarded. I miss walks in Old Town after dark, catching the tail end of whatever music is playing in the gazebo, letting Chloe lead us to all her favorite places.

The neighbors downstairs are having a good time. Boyfriend and girlfriend, occasional shrieks of laughter, muffled music, the smell of popcorn wafting through the shared heating ducts. I don't begrudge them their happiness. He took the trash out. Steph would be ecstatic, though she would wonder why I have been able to get him to take it out once in awhile, when she could not (what I will forever call Trashgate.) But I am not myself without her. I'm not as nice. I want to tell them to shut up, and to stop burning the popcorn.

2007-09-23T01:52:00.000-04:00

"Love sought is good, but giv'n unsought is better." William Shakespeare in Twelfth Night (Act III, Scene I).
I've watched Sense and Sensibility, again. Also Serendipity (my love of the Cusacks knows no bounds.) I cry every time I watch S &S. The quote above is not from either film. I came across it today. I've been writing, and of course there are loves won and lost in the pages. Well planned love, I think, leads to an ultimately unplanned mess. It seems fairytale-ish to find love looking up at you and as luck would have it, it is the love you'd hoped for. Still the machinations leading up to planned love, the gaze, the pursuit, the variety of staged accidents does love an injustice. It's fun, yes, but what does it really mean? Is it really love if you have to go out there and get it, pursue it like a lioness after a gazelle, go for the jugular? What's left after you've won your prize? How do you strike a balance after all that forward momentum? It's funny to me that love is the one thing I didn't pursue actively. We were good friends first, and for quite awhile. The love part felt very much like looking up one day and seeing it there, right in front of you. I think it's why I love these movies. They illustrate not just something that represents how we found ourselves in love, but something that I thought didn't even really exist. I like that it felt like an accident, like something divine.

2007-09-05T15:45:00.000-04:00

Twelve Year Old Window Repair Guys

I would like to believe that the window repair guy is not twelve. Evidence suggests that while he may not be twelve, he still hasn't quite gotten real facial hair. He's too skinny, wears the kind of clothes all the kids wear, he calls me Ma'am with more respect than he should, the kind of respect you show your elders. When did I become an elder? Y.T. talked about it today, she in Boston having lunch outside but away from pesky pigeons, me here in the living room waiting for my twelve year old window repair guy. He called this morning. I told her he sounded like he was twelve. She said maybe it was a woman. I said no, I'm pretty sure it was a guy. We didn't need to go over my expertise on the subject, my love of women was well versed in the hours we spent playing scrabble and eating Indian food, the time we spent doing anything but the writing we needed to be doing. I told her I would fill her in after he fixes the window. I said, when did we get so old? How is it possible that twenty somethings seem impossibly young now? She agreed. Remember when we thought teenagers were impossibly young. Yay, like when we were twenty and so full of ourselves and our big lives. I did so many stupid things when I was twenty, I said. I should be dead. She said, Me too! Now I'm afraid to leave the house without a jacket so that I don't catch a cold. I laughed. She said, It's not funny! I spent the entire time my friends visited offering them sweaters and jackets until they asked if I was geriatric. That's it, I said. Wait until we're forty and thirty seems impossibly young, and instead of lives and loves and twelve year old window guys, we start talking about bunions, arthritis, and 401Ks. The twelve year old is efficient, works well with his hands. I wonder if his hands are scared from working with cut glass, but I'm sitting in the living room and can't really see. It's all quiet and so I think he must be nearly finished. I guess I better go write a check and pay the man.

2007-09-02T14:44:00.000-04:00

The Friday from hell

I came home from work on Friday to find Chloe outside of the house, indeed, out side of the fence waiting for me on the corner of Yale and Lead. She smashed through a window. There's not a scratch on her, though I don' t know how she got out and through the security bars without spearing her self. I came in the gate panicked and feeling her all over for cuts, because there had to be some somewhere. I could see some blood droplets on the ground and blood on the sash. She squeezed through a jagged opening in that window that was surely smaller than her body. And then I saw the flowerpot below the window with large shards sticking straight up out of the dirt. The window is high. I don't know how she did it, but she managed to get through the window over the flowerpot of death and down onto the patio with nothing more than a little nick on her tongue which looked okay. I watched her walking all evening thinking that she must have injured her legs at least jumping out like that...she is a long low dog with thick stout little legs and a very basset hound like body (more so every day I think) so I was worried thinking that once her adrenaline wore off she might be gimpy...nothing. I was devistated because we worked with her to be alone in the house. She was breaking off her teeth in the kennel and so we thought, finally, after some work, we could safely leave her in the house. Now I know I can't trust her. She could have died. I also don't know how the cats didn't get out. And since it's a holiday weekend there is no one available to repair this window until Wednesday. She'll be back in the kennel from now on. I broached the subject of putting her down with Steph because we have been dealing with Chloe's extreme separating anxiety for years and years (thanks to her three previous owners), but we can't do it. I guess medication is next as we have tried everything else. I don't even know why she did it. I was home well before any thunderstorms.

This was part of the rottenness of my Friday which really started late Thursday night. I found out late Thursday night by accessing my Hollins e-mail, that someone from VA training (at my work) sent an e-mail on August 21st stating that I and several other employees needed to complete this cyber awareness training by August 21st or be terminated. Again, the email was sent August 21st at 3:45 in the afternoon. I got this mail on August 30th. So I got in to work stressed on Friday and called the appropriate people to find out what was going on...then I spent THREE HOURS taking online exams on cyber awareness...whatever the heck that is. Then the dog and the window. She had been doing so well. This morning I watched her fly hunting and she was really very agressive and hit the window more than once. I thought, for a second, hey, maybe she crashed the window going after a fly. No matter. It is the kennel for her, and a holiday weekend at home alone waiting for the window guys to come.

Home alone isn't such a bad thing after a Friday like that. I really didn't want to be around anyone. I know I'm doing okay here on my own, and hate the doubts that creep in. Steph is better at handling the home front. She's the rock, and I'm the one who flits around. I miss her. I'm okay, but I really really miss her. After I told her what happened making sure to lead off with the fact that Chloe and the cats and I are all alright, she immediately looked up flights home, and was prepared to fly out that night. I wanted to say yes. She is rarely spontaneous, and is always concerned about the budget. I talked her down from the ledge. We were all fine. There was no need. But I felt so happy that she wanted to take that flight, and so lucky. We are never going to do this again, this living apart, because we both know that we are always better together.

2007-08-27T18:31:00.000-04:00

Another fun film!

Hooray for back to back good films! First Stardust, and now The Nanny Diaries. First let me say that I have not read the book. I know. I know! But, I love Scarlett Johansson and Laura Linney so I thought it would be a good risk. (It's the same thing I thought about Evening and all great women touted in that film, and I got burned, so I was cautiously optimistic.) The set up is interesting, not at all like anything I've seen before. Annie's anthropological perspective is a refreshing blend of truth and whimsy and naiveté. Nicholas Reese Art is awesome as Grayson, Mr. and Mrs. X's son and Annie's charge. Laura Linney as Mrs. X is my favorite by far, beautiful, cold, and completely vulnerable. Completely enjoyable.

Also, I saw two previews of movies I am definitely going to try and see when they come out. The first is Martian Child, with John Cusak, about a widowed sci-fi writer who adopts a kid who believes he's from Mars. It looks like a great cast, and an interesting concept.

Also, Feast of Love looked really good. Another good cast including Morgan Freeman and Greg Kinnear, both of whom I love. Love Actually was such a great movie, and nothing has really matched it for me since. With this ensemble and Robert Benton directing I have high hopes that I may be able to add another favorite movie to my personal collection.

2007-08-26T16:35:00.000-04:00

Computer Woes

I reported problems with my computer, specifically, I thought my hard drive was crapping out. The problem is related to the hard drive, a cable connection from the hard drive to the motherboard. This is a known issue with this particular model and there are no great fixes. Replacing the hard drive is not the issue. The one fix that seems reasonable...found on Epinions.com...taping the cable down. I opened the back of my computer exposing the hard drive. I had no idea what I was looking at. I poked around then gave up and closed it back up. I'm not sure what if anything I did, but I turned it on and it started up right away and has been working since. I'm pretty bummed about this problem because I love this machine. It's less than five pounds and super speedy. I guess all the traveling around I did with it is coming to an end. I am afraid any jostling will cause the cable to loose contact once again.

Cool Movie

I saw Stardust last week and I really enjoyed myself. Great characters, good story, and a lot of laughs. How refreshing! I loved Robert De Niro in this, he was awesome as Captain Shakespeare, a kick ass pirate with a softer side. When his character was first revealed I worried that it was a concept that could go completely wrong. I was wrong. Great stuff, good messages without being too preachy. I also liked the combination of old and new...set in a time not our own...the fantasy relm in a place not our own...and yet the language was a fun and modern contrast. A charming love story, Charlie Cox, Claire Danes are so good together on screen. Good action, the film doesn't lag anywhere. I think besides De Niro...I loved the crazy princes the best, but I can't discount Michelle Pfeiffer as the perfect witch, beautiful and deadly.

New Mexico Burn

We went to see the Burn play this weekend...New Mexico's pro women's football team.
Yah, that's right, women's football! The down side is that the ladies have yet to post a win and could use some assistance in the relm of punt return and offensive production. The best part, seeing these women lay on some wicked hits. There was some pretty excellent body crunching hits, which is why I love football anyway. So I am looking forward to seeing their next game. Go get that W ladies! Go Burn! Aside from watching the game, the fans, particularly the ones sitting behind us were great, yelling themselves horse, ringing a cow bell. Also all the kids. One little girl who sat in front of us with her dad told us her mom was one of the players. So cute! And she was so excited to cheer for her mom. Women's football is my new favorite thing.

2007-08-18T21:03:00.000-04:00

Hi, hello there. A small hiatus while we were getting ready for Steph to head out to Minneapolis. Also my computer hard drive has crashed and so no computer for now. I'm house/dog sitting for some friends who kindly offered me the use of their laptop.

So several things I've been meaning to blog about.

First, and most important, Steph's dissertation defense was great. It was hard waiting all summer, but it was great. Like we thought, Greg Martin gave her amazing feedback and they were all incredibly encouraging. They said she needs to publish it, and that it oculd be career making. Yay Steph! The cool thing, and I think something that really put her mind at ease was that the majority of suggestions they made she had already talked to me about. She knew what needed to be done to move the project forward. She a total academic, and now she knows it and believes it of herself. She's humble. I'm not. She kicks so much ass! And I am so excited for her. So she is off to Minneapolis for a 9 month teaching gig. She left a couple of days ago and even though we are old hat at this long distance thing, we're still pretty sad about having to be apart once again. I'm more worried this time because it's me keeping our home base...taking care of the animals and such. But I know I can do it and staying here means I can keep my job, which I really like. Her next step is getting applications out there for assistant professor positions this fall. I am going to try and meet her in Memphis for a conference she's presenting at as well as a week/week and a half over the Christmas holiday in Chicago and Minneapolis. It should be fun. And even though it will be cold as hell, we love Chicago!

So my plan, once my trusty laptop is again up and running is to write a novel in nine months.

I am not excited to be bussing it around Albuquerque again, though I have to say, after being stuck ten miles outside of Roanoke, VA it's great that I can pretty much go where I want when I want. Also our neighborhood is so great, the studetn ghetto, but tons of coffee shops, great/cheap eateries, etc. Also the beautiful grassy campus is Chloe's backyard really. Great for long walks.

Before Steph left we joined Aggie and Sally at the Keb'Mo Robert Cray concert at Isleta Casino. It was an amazing concert. The venue was such a pleasant surprise. Once we picked up the tickets at will call we were told we would need to bus it to the location. We stepped outside and and boarded the bus. We'd never been to Isleta before and with the monsoon season at hand we had several concerns because it was an outdoor event. We didn't realize it and so weren't really dressed for sitting in the grass, if there was grass. It turned out so great. There were chairs set up outside and when they played we could see a sky full of stars, large moths and fireflies danced around in the light from the stage. It was pretty spectacular, and then the music, which was so amazing. The tickets were super affordable and I feel like we got more than our money's worth.

Well the ladies are home. I'll blog more when I have the chance.

2007-07-02T17:09:00.000-04:00

Steph and I have been watching tons of movies this summer and enjoying the return of TNT's The Closer.

We saw two films at the theater this weekend, Evening and Ratatouelle. The reviews follow.

Evening: A cast filled with notable and award winning actresses, intrigue ("Harris and I killed Buddy."), and promises of hanky worthiness (tear factor high). All in all, the movie was a great disappointment. A woman in the throws of dying revisits a past regret, what she considers her greatest mistake. Her daughters try and make sense of her ramblings about people they've never heard of, the name Harris grabs the attention of the younger daughter.

I think the biggest problem was the expectations I had after reading then seeing The Hours. I loved that movie and the way the scenes were shot were so beautiful, seemless. Evening shifts from present time to flashbacks in a way that I think is supposed to represent the main character in the process of dying. One of the first flashbacks shows Redgrave in a white gown with what look like stagelights above her. Given her stage prowess, I thought this might be interesting if those scenes where she is in that in between place, not dead, not alive, not in the present and not in her memories, might be represented by that stage like essense. But no, and there is a later scene in which she follows a moth down the stairs and out of the house at night and the scene looks as though it should have been shot on the stage. I'm not sure what they were going for, but it was a mystery to me.

In addition to the clunky mechanics, the symbolic elements felt like cliche, the moth, the boat, white gown, white light, fireflies. The night nurse was interesting, but ultimately the fantastic elements and reality clash in a way that falls flat rather than inspires.

The trailer looks like this movie is about the relationship between these women, but really it is about this dying woman hangning on to a one night stand who she claims was the love of her life. It's all about Harris. The problem with this is that she is presented as flighty, kind of selfish, maybe even unlikable, also, there is very little about their coming together that would make it seem like it was such an amazing thing that she would be hanging on to this in death. The mention early in the movie about this woman and Harris killing Buddy is HUGE! And yet the mystery unfolds to be not a mystery at all. Mentioning the possibility that she killed someone and not hitting a note higher than that is a mistake. They could have done without that element. It was unnecessarily misleading. Buddy is who she should have been thinking of if she was thinking of that time and what happened. And yet, when Buddy's sister visits this woman on her deathbead, neither women mentions Buddy at all, only Harris. I mean, Harris must have been a stone cold stud or something, but in the movie he was just another guy, kind of good looking but not extraordinary. I don't buy Claire Danes as a singer, though this is a minor point, as is Glenn Close's performance that harkend back to the Stepford Wives, freaky red lipstick, crazy eyes. The back breaking bones of this story are the messages. Women can't count on or hope for the sparks flying kind of love. That kind of love is a myth, something not worth pursuing. Along with careers as anything but homemakers Additionally, Harris is a stud and we should all want him. I am so glad we saw this at mantinee prices. If you go to this movie expecting to see these women at their best don't bother. If you go expecting them to be powerful and empowering, don't bother. However, if you too think Harris is a God among men, by all means see this film.

Ratatouelle: This movie kicks so much butt! It could be that after suffering through Evening, this animated gem was exactly what we needed. Our expectations were met. It was funny, the main characters were guys (and gal) we could root for. I heart Pixar. I think Pixar is much much more sexy than Harris. I would rate this as really good. Not great like Finding Nemo, but totally worth the price of admission and the outrageous cost of drinks and popcorn. Now I will tell you why it isn't as good as Finding Nemo. Death, threat of death, death defying feats, death. That little ditty always ups the anty, particularly in an animated movie. I saw the barnyard movie with my nephew and the death scene in that movie sucked ass. In Nemo it's what moves the scenes forward, it's what makes our characters heros. There are no real heroics in Ratatouelle unless you count fighting for your dreams, and that's where I give the furry guys the win. If you like food, see this movie. If you like cooking, shows about cooking, Top Chef, anything on the Food Network, see this movie. If you think rats rock (Cortney and Jillian!) see this movie. If you just got out of Evening and want to scoop your eyes out with a spoon, go see this movie, order a large popcorn, a beverage, and enjoy. Bon Apitite!

2007-07-01T19:58:00.000-04:00

Okay, so if you've been reading you know my sister is going through a crappy breakup. We talked today, a bad day for her. She's sad and a little bit lost and thinks she's all alone and there is nothing to do. I can't do anything from here but listen. And then I thought about the things that kept me from being too lonely when I was in Virginia away from Steph and all our friends. Blogs. I know it might seem lame to some, but I really love blogs. Duke City Fix is on my links because it is a blog dedicated to all the happenings and people in Albuquerque. The minute I knew Steph would be relocating temporarily to Minneapolis I found a list of Minneapolis blogs. It's such a great way to keep up with everything that might be happening in your area, music and other entertainment, hobbies, other groovy people who lead interesting and fun lives.
I get great ideas from them, recipes, heads up about a concert, local grower's markets, you name it, someone is blogging about it. Most of all it's a reminder that we aren't all alone, and there are tons of things to do. I typically don't do lists, but since Steph is going to be in Minneapolis for approximately 9 months I am going to make a plan to do the following in her absence:

1. Write a novel. (I'm serious about this. I've made enough excuses. I've done enough playing around with writing. I have a start. Most importantly, it's time to stop being a chicken shit.)

2. Practice my guitar/take lessons. (I love the idea of playing music. I love listening to music, particularly guitar driven music...and I will have plenty of TIME.)

3. Cook at home as much as possible. (Once she's bringing in the bucks it's going to be too easy to eat out all the time and I live in walking distance of most of my fav. places to nosh. That said, I would like to cook from scratch more, choose fresh ingredients, and develop my own recipes.)

4. Continue to play some kind of sport or recreate in some way. (I like playing softball. I'm not good, nor do I pretend to be, but I've gotten better and it feels good to be out there and part of a team.)

5. See live music more often. (Albuquerque has a ton of opportunites to see live music.)

6. Urban Hikes. (I must do this, maybe take Chloe (our intrepid basset/retriever mix) and the camera. I love this city so much, every glorious inch and I would like to capture and experience as much as I can before we have to move on.)

7. Continue gardening prowess. (I'd like to get creative this fall and winter, try and keep some greens growing, maybe make a small cold frame.)

8. Do some kind of art. (Anything using my hands. I haven't really done anything for awhile. It's too expensive a hobby for poor students. But since this next year will be us raising our heads out of that doom and gloom of perpetually broke ass student life, maybe this would be a good time to revisit this.)

9. Train Chloe. (It's true that she's seven. It's also true that she does not have good boundaries, and is still acting out when we leave. So Chloe and I will work on this by increasing daily walks and firmly establishing who is the pack leader and who needs to be calm and submissive.)

10. Read. (Reading is one of my most favorite things to do. If I could get paid for reading stuff I would be so happy. The next new book will probably be Annie Dillard's new book.)

I will, of course be roaming the internet in search of anything of interest.

That's it for now. Now I play dominoes with friends and kicks some booty. ta da!

2007-06-04T19:52:00.000-04:00

It's been a much needed repose from bloggerdome. I say a much needed repose and what I mean is something all together different, something not unlike the old adage "If you can't say something nice, don't say anything at all."

I've been thinking about cowboys lately, not because I live in the wild, wild west, or because I was recently dragged to the Terri Clark concert at the Sky City casino. (I was, and I enjoyed it, but that's not the point.) No. I've been thinking about white hats, a symbol for all things good and just, the color the "good guys" wear in old westerns. Why all the pondering about white hats, good guys, and justice?

It's been a month of cruelties. Not the big ones, not death, dismemberment, true hardship, but the slow aching kind, the kind that comes from lost love or misplaced trust.

My sister's partner of 8 years walked away from their relationship with no reason given. Rather than making the split together, dividing up the houshold, the animals, the debt, she refuses to leave the house, the house earned on the back of my sister on whose good name the creditor relied on and, although both their names are on the lease, it is the house this woman never paid a dime for. The great hoodwink, something I feared from the beginning of their relationship, something that I squashed because my sister was happy, this woman is exactly who I thought she was back then, a chain smoking, mountain dew swilling, mullet wearing trailer trash dyke trading up.

My sister is one of the good guys. She works hard, never makes late payments on anything and pays extra when she can. She makes committments with her whole heart and means it. The first thing she said to me was, "You were right." This was not something I wanted to be right about. She wants this woman to say it's over but she won't, only saying that she doesn't know, the quintessential copout for those trying like hell to have their cake and eat it too. This woman says, "I don't know if I'm in love with you." and an hour later says "Love you." and kisses her on her way out the door. I tell her to call a lawyer. It's true, she can't just kick her lying, cheating, misleading ass out.

I didn't know what advice to give. I've never been though a real break up before, in truth, until Steph I had never really put myself in a position to be in a relationship. What did I know? What help could I give. None beyond an open telephone line and "Please, honey, call a lawyer, talk to a financial advisor." and "I don't know."

This came on the heels of visits by my sister, mother, and nephew, and a visit by Steph's mom on the assumption that she would be in town for her daughter's dissertation defense. The defense. This is the biggest reason I haven't blogged. I needed time to sort through my anger and disbelief before even grazing that subject.

What happened to Steph is the thing that people fear, and is the thing that never happens for real. I believed that, having gone through the elaborate and stupid rituals of graduate school myself. And all along the way we were reassured by the presence of her advisor, a thoroughly competent woman who, until the last possible moment, had not let us down. Promises were made, reassurances given, and then the sudden discovery that the communication we thought was present between the chair and the committee was a mist, a shadow, an idea rather than a reality. On the day before the defense a problem arose that we were told would not be a problem. The defense date was rushed, we knew it, this was an attempt to finish before the chair moved on to another school. She approved a draft to go to the committee that was not a totally clean draft. The committee had it for two weeks while Steph was working out the bugs and any minor typos or stylistic issues. None had a thing to say about the state of the manuscript they were given and it didn't worry us because the chair said they would send a letter to the committee explaining what they were getting and why. The letter was never sent. A day before defense, a question arises about the state of the manuscript, not the ideas, not even big things like organization, but simple typo and stylistic issues that had since been taken care of. It snowballed that day in front of her mother and all three of us watched the defense date dematerialize. I didn't understand it. The defense is a formality among many formalities. They could have had the defense knowing there was a clean copy out there. They could have gone through the ceremony of it all and signed off on it when they had a chance to look at the good copy. Most of all the two people who brought up these "concerns" admittedly hadn't looked at the manuscript until the day before the defense. This and the lack of communication by a committee of scholars infuriated me. If this deadline couldn't be met, it wasn't a problem, it would just have to happen later. But setting her up, working her like a dog and then yanking that away was unneccessarily cruel.

When I look at the picture of her graduation from Purdue I am filled with pride and love. We met and fell in love there, she learned she would indeed be going on to grad school there. It was the place that she had dreamed of years earlier when she read In Search of Our Mother's Gardens. She shook the Dean's hand with confidence and her winning smile, and this woman looked right at her, right in her eyes, and smiled back. Graduating from Purdue was tinged by the unbelivable news that her father had liver cancer. In the picture of her MA graduation from the University of Nebraska, the loss of her father is in her face, still smiling, if you looked, you might say his death was there in her eyes. Graduating with her Ph.D. is something she has looked forward to since her Navy days reading Alice Walker. She wanted the pomp and circumstance, the hooding ceremony, the dissertation defense. She wanted to experience every step of what I playfully called academic hazing rituals. She wanted it until they broke her down.

Like my sister, Steph works hard, doesn't cut corners, and actually gives a damn about her students. After years of teaching, no guidance, and gaining confidence with her experience, they questioned her ability to teach, cost her a job unnecessarily, and most importantly, made her question everything. It was a personal swipe at her for reasons unclear to faculty who supported her, but at any rate it did the job that cowardly men couldn't do themselves. She stopped loving the University, gave up the dream of going through graduation. She had settled, instead, on the dissertation defense. And then the very women who feigned support pulled the rug out from under her.

When I say that none of that was her fault I am not only saying that because I love her but because it's the truth. She worked hard, did what her advisor told her to do and then got completely hosed. I mention women because it is the last straw in a sense, not for her but for me. Feminism be damned. When things don't go as expected they're like rats jumping from a sinking ship. Nobody apologized to her, nobody talked to her at all. In fact, the announcement was made and the chair was like, "I'll talk to you in a couple of days, have a good weekend."

She should have let Steph know that at the pace they were working the deadline was too tight. They had other options, ones that I dare say would have been better for Steph. She could have wrote through this summer and defended in August (which is what she will be doing) and she wouldn't have been killing herself trying to get in all the revisions and clean copies in an impossible deadline. If the fucking committee had bothered to even take a look at what she had sent them earlier than the day before I wouldn't have ended up with Steph's mother sitting in my kitchen the day before the supposed event and Steph sitting in the office in complete shock. Everything that happened at UNM from the moment they questioned her teaching to the disappearing defense officially killed any good feelings that remained for that institution. I was devistated for her because I have watched her in every step of her education and I could not think of a person who deserved this kind of treatment less. And there is nothing we can do about it. Who to complain to, where to make our grievances. There is nowhere, and no one. Her mother doesn't understand that she still needs them to write letters of recommendation. She still needs to have a good rapport with them. I know what her mother means when she says it's not right. I think, couldn't they have put on the little ceremony, talked about the merits and bigger issues of her manuscript and saved the rest until later. Couldn't they have done that for their student, another hardworking woman in academia. No. And really, why should they. What's in it for them? I loathe the way women treat other women in academia. I had high hopes too, from amazing classes at Purdue that were like feasts for the brain, a place where women stood together because in a place that conservative and male dominated, you had to in order to survive. I was a hard core feminist and lover of academia back then. Now, I too join the ranks of the jaded.

But not Steph. Academia and women in academia may be a little tarnished, but she still loves it, still loves her students and as always, despite what little men in big offices think, is a great teacher.

After the last month and a half, I want the good guys to win. I want this knowing that I am not one of them. I know myself well. I like lazy days, little work, sunshine. I am a fanegeler, too lazy to even look that word up to see if I have indeed misspelled it. I am a storyteller, prone to tell a lie as much as the truth. But I need those guys in the white hats, I need the good guys to win, not everytime but most of the time. I believe in that kind of goodness even if I can't harness it for myself. I see Steph and she doesn't know it, but she carries that white stetson aura above her head, my sister too. The people who know them see it too.

2007-04-09T02:25:00.000-04:00

I've started a website to house my extensive recipes and trip photos, etc. It's too much to have them here on the blog, so the link is to the right.

My birthday was a fun week of gifts and little outings culminating in a trip to Ruidoso. We stayed in a cabin in the upper canyon area. It was great. The first night we had snow and the whole area was really beautiful. The next day, blue skies and sun making it warm enough for shirt sleeves.

This week has been crazy. Steph went to Minneapolis for a job interview. I've been skullking around Craig's List Minneapolis seeing what's what. I loathe the idea of leaving here, but the salary that they are offering is like five times what we make together, so it can't be discounted. We've talked around all the possibilities...to take the job or not. First I said, you don't want to jump at the first thing. Maybe we should wait and send out apps in the fall. But then we talked some more and realized we could go to Minneapolis and still send new feelers out in the fall and make a ton more money in the mean time. So if they offer her the job, it will be a tough decision. I am already secretly preparing myself for a potential move so that if and when it happens I won't have the whole impact of it on me all at once. I want what's best for her, and I don't know that staying here is what's best. And ultimately, what's best for both of us is for both of us to have the opportunity to meet our goals and have jobs we really like. She would have the opportunity to teach more than just composition there and I think that really appeals to her.

My mom and sister are coming for a week long visit. I'm really looking forward to it. I love having company, and I love bringing people to Albuquerque. It is truly the best place I've ever lived. I used to say Sicily was the best...but this place surpasses even that awesome living environment. There is too much to recommend, the food, the people, the varied and many things to do, the amazing landscape, the weather, THE WEATHER! The minute you see this place it is so easy to understand why artists love New Mexico.

In a few weeks we will have one of our Sheldon Harvey paintings home from his one man exhibition at the Navajo Nation Museum in Window Rock. I can't wait. I first saw his work in the windows of the Andrews Pueblo Pottery gallery in Old Town. It was after dark and we were walking the dog and enjoying the cool evening when I saw them. The figures were remarkable. They were sculptural, rendered in a way I hadn't seen from Native American artists. Typically the spiritual figures I had seen were more two-d, and geometric, like sandpaintings but on canvas. That said, I didn't have much experience or knowledge of Native American art beyond what I saw around Old Town and in Santa Fe. The masks the figures wore took on the liveliness of the face, expression, the bodies were sinew and full of morphology, not human, but something so human-like in posture. They conveyed power, curiosity, mischief, beauty. I don't consider myself to be very spiritual, and I don't have the personal connection to the history Sheldon Harvey is recording in his work, but I know what I like, what I respond to on a gut level. Seeing those paintings there in the dark, I couldn't just walk away. Every chance I had I went in to look at Harvey's work. I found a small painting that I thought I could afford and the next time I visited it was gone. Before long it was obvious to me and to Steph that we needed to own one, hang it in our house. It took several visits before we found the one, larger, more expensive, but it was perfect. It took more than a year to pay off and now it will be coming home in a matter of weeks, and I am so proud that he had this piece hanging in his show.

I thought that his paintings were a me thing more than a Steph thing until she walked in to see some of his new work and fell in love. I saw it in her face right off and I left it up to her to decide, to make the commitment, which she did in about five minutes of seeing the figure of a woman, so perfect, beautiful colors, a kandinsky-esk feel, certainly a different look than mine...and right off I knew where we should hang it in the house when we bring that one home.

2007-03-24T16:51:00.000-04:00

They Got Lucci'ed

The Susan Lucci of Women's Basketball

The Duke Blue Devils just went down to Rutgers in the round of sixteen. It was a tight low scoring game that came down to a foul and two missed baskets by senior Duke guard Lindsey Harding. And then Steph said it, Gail Goestenkors is like the Susan Lucci of women's basketball. We aren't die hard Duke fans but we feel a connection to them because we love good women's basketball and Duke is one of the best teams, was in fact the overall number one seed going into this tournament. And coach G. is one of those coaches you like to root for.

We love it when the unexpected happens in the tournament. We cheered for Marist upsetting Ohio State and Middle Tennessee. Arizona State is toughing out games in which they dig huge holes for themselves in their first visit to the tournament. Florida State knocks off two seed Stanford in their first tournament appearance, and now Rutgers toughing it out against Duke in an awe inspiring defensive effort. Women's basketball is exciting stuff. And then there's Connecticut and Tennessee...Geno Auriemma and Pat Summit. I've always liked Auriemma. Go to the Huskies homepage and you see his basketball players, it's about his players. You mention the Lady Volunteers and the first name that comes up is Coach Summit. The days of her style of bullying and berating are on the way out. With multiple back to back championships for both UConn and Tennessee, we like to root for someone new to step up to the plate, like our beloved Boilermakers in 1999, Notre Dame, Oklahoma, and this year, based on the strength of the brackets, we thought for sure it would be Duke in 2007.

Over the years Duke has gotten close to the all coveted national championship win. Getting knocked out in the round of sixteen is undoubtedly a disappointment for the Blue Devils and coach G. But we want to say, Hey! We'll be looking for you next year. We like you. We really, really do.

(GO PURDUE!)

The Susan Lucci of Crossword Puzzle Superstardom

50 million people do it every week, so claims the movie Word Play. Don't scoff, this movie introduces us to the players in the world of crossword puzzles from the folks who make them to the folks who play them, from average Joes to whiz kids, comedians, musicians and even a president or two. At the heart of the movie, the American Crossword Puzzle Tournament developed by Puzzle Master Will Shortz. In addition to taking us behind the scenes of puzzle editor Shortz and the puzzle makers, the movie follows contestants before their trip to the tournament. We are introduced to the whiz kid, Tyler, from Rensselaer Polytechnic who likes his chances against his competition, to Trip, a professional puzzle maker with an impressive resume of wins, Al, a project manager for HP and a loving dad, as well as former champs Ellen, the professed Susan Lucci of the tournament, and piano player Jon. It's geeky, brainy, funny, and completely absorbing. By the end I was rooting for the young gun Tyler, and bridesmaid but never the bride, Al. The movie is a complete blast. I enjoy word games and puzzles, though I am more likely to do cryptoquips or play Scrabble, and this movie made me want to pick up the next New York Times for the crossword puzzle. After all I, like so many Americans, have a brain filled with random and often times useless information. Next in my Netflix queue: Word Wars.

2007-03-22T00:01:00.000-04:00

Tonight it's raining and I'm thinking about Miss Potter, the movie and the woman. For those of you unfamiliar with Beatrix Potter and her brilliant children's books, be a kid again. Give yourself license to check out Peter Rabbit, Jemima Puddle-Duck, Mrs Tiggy-Winkle, and others. Or find one of the many complete collections of her works. The Public Library carries most of them. Peter Rabbit was one of my favorite characters as a kid, and Miss Potter's lively drawings and stories enchanted me. I was a geeky artsy kid anyway, one with an imagination and a longing for adventure that often got me into trouble, not unlike dear Peter. I remember falling into the tales like falling into another world, one I could easily imagine. I could look out my own window and watch rabbits playing near the gooseberry bushes. Our neighbor had a wonderfully utilitarian garden, well plotted out, well manicured, and regularly harvested. He and his wife spent hours tending to it, and while they never actually cursed us when a ball or frisbee managed to make it over their low fence, they glowered with disapproval. It wasn't a stretch to imagine them Mr. and Mrs. McGregor. What I remember most besides the beautiful drawings, which I had painstakingly copied in colored pencils and crayon, is the edge the stories often had. For example, the matter of fact disclosing of the death of Peter's father; he ended up in a pie made by Mrs. McGregor. Even as a kid I liked my stories edgy. That said, when I found out they'd made a movie about Beatrix Potter's life I was both excited and worried. It stars Renee Zellweger and Ewan McGregor and Emily Watson. I was excited that her story was coming to the big screen. She was an uncommon woman of her time. I worried that my expectation of the movie would end in a let down. Tonight, watching Miss Potter, I was thrilled. What a lovely depiction of this woman's life. I don't want to spoil the movie by saying too much, but Miss Potter was an extraordinary woman. The landscape is lush and rich, and the drawings are as lively as I remembered, her own spirit very much in line with the characters and the world she created. Her pursuit of a career as an artist and author lead her to love, friendship, and ultimately the conservation of the land that inspired the stories. Zelleweger's Beatrix Potter was charming as was Ewan McGregor's Norman Warne, and I absolutely loved Emily Watson as Norman's sister Millie. I want to mention Matyelock Gibbs as Miss Wiggin, Beatrix Potter's aged chaperone. She had not a single line and was completely funny and delightful. In a time of star stuffed, overwrought and overly long blockbusters, Miss Potter comes across as just right. It was a pleasure to watch and I will certainly own it once it's released on DVD.
The Beatrix Potter Society
Another great source for Beatrix Potter

2007-03-14T17:17:00.000-04:00

Ahoy! As my dearest friend Y.T. says. Since we're taking a break from movies and since I do a lot of cooking, I thought I would include various recipes whenever a good one comes up...and yesterday we made a good one. My mom's banana bread recipe. Rather than a traditional loaf, we made ours into muffins. De-lish!

Best Ever Banana Bread

1 3/4 cup all-purpose flour
1 1/2 cup sugar
1 teaspoon baking soda
1/2 teaspoon salt
2 eggs
1 cup mashed ripe bananas (2-3 medium)
1/2 cup vegetable oil
1/4 cup plus one tablespoon buttermilk
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
1 cup chopped walnuts.

In a large bowl, stir together flour, sugar, baking soda, and salt. In another bowl, conbine eggs, bananas, oil, buttermilk, and vanilla. Add to flour mixture, stirring just until moistened. Fold in nuts. Pour into greased 9x5x3 loaf pan. Bake @ 325 degrees for 1 hour and 20 minutes.

We use canola oil and have in the past added a small amount of mini chocolate chips. Either way you make it, it's great on it's own or topped in butter or cream cheese (my preferred way.)

It's a beautiful day in Albuquerque today. Blue skies, sunny and warm, warm, warm. I hope this isn't a trick because I am going to start switching the closet over from winter to summer this weekend now that all the yard work is done.

I spent most of last weekend weeding and hauling out dog poo and rock and laying weed block and laying new rock down. I was in need of serious bengay from the neck down. The plus side is that it is all done. Now I need to plan a barbqueue, have some of my peeps over.

Speaking of peeps...it's that time of year again. I don't know what it is about those techno colored, sugar blitz treats, but I love them. I haven't been able to eat them since I was about twelve. I think that is the maximum age limit on actually consuming peeps, but I love to buy them and to blow them up in the microwave, etc. Some people have WAY too much fun with peeps.

2007-03-08T02:34:00.000-05:00

The weird thing about The Bridge was the timing. I had just read a short story called Jumper Up (I can't recall the author off hand but it was in a collection of flash ficiton.) About an EMT about to retire on his last call of Jumper Up, a potential suicide on a bridge. And then I came across the book by Nick Hornby, A Long Way Down, coincidentally the title of my MFA thesis. (I am sorry to say that I hadn't heard of Hornby when I came up with the title and that his version is so much better!) also about people about to take their own lives, what leads them to the roof a building famous for jumpers on the same night, at the same time. So in a strange way, when I saw that the Bridge was being re-run at the Guild, I had to go.

I am now reading my way through Sarah Vowell. I just finished Take the Cannoli: Stories from the New World and have started Assassination Vacation. The Partly Cloudy Patriot is on my wishlist.

2007-03-08T01:34:00.000-05:00

Movies watched over the last two months:

The Bridge This was a haunting, beautiful, and sad documentary about people who jump from the Golden Gate Bridge, and the people they left behind. It came to Albuquerque about a month ago and we missed seeing it. So we went to the second run of this film at the Guild tonight.
I love the Guild (just a side note.) ****

Desert Hearts Also at the Guild, a showing of a lesbian classic. The upside, seeing it for the first time on the big screen surrounded by older dykes having a really good time, and spending money on a film when the proceeds benefit a cause close to the lesbian victims of a double homicide. ****

Wild Hogs About as far away as you can get from The Bridge or Desert Hearts, but so much fun. Set in my beloved Albuquerque and in Madrid, these guys in the middle of life striking out to get a little of their own back was just what I needed. What I hoped was that all the laughs weren't played out in the movie trailers and previews. I wasn't disappointed. There were a ton of laughs and yes, I could pick this movie apart, but really I just wanted to enjoy it for what it was, CANDY. ***

Babel--very long, disturbing, like an international Crash. I walked away not sure what I felt about it. I didn't like it, but I don't think it is there for us to like. The jury is still out for me.

Casino Royale--excellent James Bond movie, loved it. I thought Bond felt more 3-D than in typical Bond movies, there usually is a sense of artifice about it. I also love Judi Dench as M!
****

Notes on a Scandal--disturbing. I am not fond of the whole teacher sleeps with student thing, nor am I fond of movies that tout bad/aged lesbian stereotypes. That said, the women were compelling to watch...breath taking in their confrontations. Really powerful, completely mental.
***

Music and Lyrics--I like both Hugh Grant and Drew Barrymore, and I saw this movie on Valentine's day but find it kind of forgettable. **

Because I Said So--I think Mandy Moore is so cute and charming...but sadly, like the movie above, almost forgettable movie. I do like the food angle alot and that most of the people in the movie seem like that have actual/realistic jobs. ***

On NetFlix V for Vendetta--Steph and I both found this movie to be compelling. Powerful, and scary considering our current political climate. ****

Volver--Amazing, funny, beautiful, heartbreaking. We really enjoyed this film. The women are so tight knit and protective of one another, each with their own problems. I love the mother in this film. And Penelope Cruz. ****

Infamous--The other Truman Capote movie starring Sandra Bullock as Nell Harper Lee. It was as good as the other movie, showing yet another side. I had read excerpts of In Cold Blood before seeing both films and I read the book after seeing Infamous. Such an amazing book, ground breaking in everyway he had hoped, something so big that it took everything out of him. I like the way this movie unfolds and how it has a documentary feel about it with sections in which characters talk about Truman, or about the murders as though in an interview setting.
****

From NetFlix--An Inconvenient Truth was every bit as good as people promised. I love the personal narrative, the journey Gore takes as he realizes this is a major problem that we as a nation need to address now. I also love how he breaks down the science and the nay sayers. A definite must see. ****

Seen at the Guild--Shut Up and Sing, the Dixie Chicks documentary. What amazing footage. I am so glad they filmed what they were going through in the aftermath of Natalie's comment regarding the president. The funny thing about the D.C. is that the first time Steph and I had ever heard of them we were at the first Lilith Fair concert. They were announced and I was like let's go get something to drink. I wasn't interested in country music and certainly not by some Chicks. But the first song they played was Goodbye Earle. Before their set they announced, "This is for all you wife beaters out there." And we were like what? Hold on a minute. We have loved them ever since. They have been the soundtrack for every stage of our relationship, and have accompanied us on every road trip. We would now be considered part of their "new" fan base, not necessarily country music fans, but fans of honest musicianship, great storytelling, and guts. If you haven't heard their music, pick up their latest two cd's the most mature of their colleciton of cd's, I think. Be sure to see this film, it is heart breaking and honest and in your face and I love them for it. ****

2007-02-13T20:25:00.000-05:00

Steph bought me my Valentine's present early, a beautiful crowntail betta named Valentino. This little guy is bright red with flashes of turquoise in his body and bright light blue eyes. He's a nice next door neighbor (with enough distance between their bowls) to our standard betta Indigo (Indy, named for his inky blue body and red racing stripes on his gills, and the fact that I'm an Indiana girl) So far we've had good luck with Indy who initially seemed shy and has since turned on the charm. I can tell Valentino is a true lover. He swims around showing off his flashy fins, peekng around the foliage in his bowl, and with those blue eyes he could give Sinatra a run for his money. When I figure out how to use our digital camera, I'll photograph these guys and post them. If you are thinking fish, bettas are awesome. They love to show off, and are pretty low maintanence in a decent sized bowl (not one of those crapy ivy bowls that hold about a cup of water.) They love attention and like being where the action is. Our bachelors live in the office, the warmest room in the house (for they are tropical and prefer warmer water), and also the busiest room. Tomorrow it will be Chama River Brewing Co. and a movie, and I am looking forward to a day of lurve and romance.

2007-02-12T21:11:00.000-05:00

His name is Robert Goodluck and he serenades us behind the co-op. He sells smudge sticks, makes friends with the security guard and co-op manager. We are walking our dog and he offers his wares, says smell this. It smells amazing, like something old and new, like something not us, but we never carry cash. I say as much prepared to walk away as we do on so many occasions, with a kind word, "Stay warm," or "Have a good night." He says, "Well at least buy me a sandwich." I immediately think, sure, a sandwich, I can do a sandwich. I was going into the co-op for tomatoes anyway. Steph stays with the dog and he says, "Get me roast beef." I think, it's the co-op, they're never going to have roast beef. They don't. They have turkey and swiss, chicken salad, and veggie. I go out to give him the rundown and Steph is standing there with our dog who is not barking. A good sign surely. He thinks a second then says, "Turkey." I grab the turkey and the tomatoes and a bottle of water, because I cannot eat sandwiches, anything with bread really, without something to drink. It's less than ten dollars for everything. I go out ready to hand him his sandwich and be on our way. He takes my hand, a gesture of thanks maybe, maybe not, and he began his song, a song that sounds like prayer or a poem. Afterward, he translates it. It has something to do with your place, how you look high and low for it and ultimately find it in your heart. Then he asks me if I know his name. I say, "Robert Goodluck?" Now he talks to Steph about school, quotes Longfellow's The Midnight Ride of Paul Revere. She sits next to me now that we are home and says we should have asked him about his clans. I think we should have invited him to sit with us at a table and converse while he had his sandwich. At the time all I was thinking was how amazing the experience was and about the presence of the security guard who was quietly standing by, thinking I don't know what, ready to chase him off. He was native too and the words he said to him as we walked away was, "The owners don't want you on their property." Robert told Steph that some customers said he was belligerant one time. He said he was never belligerant with anybody. I was happy that he offered something we couldn't pay for and asked for what he needed. There was no pretense and what we walked away with was worth more than the price of a sandwich. Robert Goodluck, a memory.

I've been serenaded before by two drunk Indians at the bus stop one morning. They were laughing and having a good time trying to out do each other, singing in Navajo and then translating the songs to me. I don't remember their names, there words were a mess of alcohol and boasting. I did go to work feeling something, thinking about them for days. Now Robert Goodluck has crossed our paths. And after he introduced himself, after I got him the sandwich and he sang to us, he asked if I knew his name, not because he was drunk or because he didn't remember giving us his name. He asked it like it was a test. I think about this now, and the bus stop singers, how their performance and Robert's song and test were a way to stay in someone's memory, as if to say I exist, here I am, remember me.

2007-01-30T00:34:00.000-05:00

Seriously....

We collect catch phrases, let them dribble out the way we used to say fuck, like when we were younger and thought fuck made us sound tough, or worldly, or maybe I was the one who said fuck, something I still sometimes say, though I try not to. She reads Fierce Attachments--her analysis of Vivian Gornick's relationship with her mother will join the other mother/daughter relationships of her dissertation--like Gornick, that's ridiculous is the catch phrase she can't keep from saying. I point this out and she counters with, "You say seriously alot, like that girl, Meredith, in Grey's Anatomy." I want to say, "No I don't." What comes out is, "Seriously?" Seriously.

2007-01-22T16:08:00.000-05:00

We are under siege. Steph and I are housebound with swat on our roof, officers swarming our neighborhood, and the fire department parked outside our back fence. I called the non-emergency number when we heard footsteps on the roof and someone in our laundry room (a room off the back of the house with no entrance to our house.) The operator said to stay put, that there was a situation nearby. We made pizza out of biscuit dough, sauce, cream cheese, pepperoni, and mozzarella. Then when the pizza was done, we carried it to the living room to watch re-runs of Studio 60 on the Sunset Strip on Bravo...a show that I want to like and get into because I like the people in it and because I miss West Wing. We were fine, then an officer knocked on our living room window and instructed us to stay on this side of the house and they would let us know if we needed to evacuate. Meanwhile, footsteps on the roof getting louder, eventually leading to shots of some kind being fired from what sounded like our rooftop. I am guessing it was maybe tear gas? Maybe not. We don't know, because the friendly officers did not elaborate. I'm not sure if the stand off is over now. The fire department truck moved out and people are now able to turn left at lead. A police car with lights on is headed toward campus and I think, maybe the people on the roof are gone. I have eaten eight bite sized candy bars while trying to decide what to do next. I think Steph and I are going to pop in a movie...Also, maybe we will take a post swat nap.

2007-01-15T02:36:00.000-05:00

I've said it before, that I find New Mexico to be a magical place where the landscape takes my breath away. I've talked about my love of Albuquerque, my quirky city full of life and light and friendly people. I've even talked about how much I love the snow out here...maybe not here in the blog, but in general and to everyone I know I've talked about how much I love those huge snowflakes, snowflakes of dreams or memories past, when Indiana snows were heavy and wet and perfect for making snowmen. Back home, we haven't seen snow like that in years, but blizzards of ice pellets in the guise of snow...something painted pretty by weathermen but left along side the roadways and in parking lots, the dark and dirty remnants of winter, cinder, salt, sand, and ice. I raved of New Mexico's snow, clean, white, so beautiful against adobe and bright blue skies. When our first big New Mexico snow came a couple of years ago, I was excited and dragged Steph and the dog out to Old Town where we took pictures of the huge wet flakes. We were happily pink cheeked and gripping Starbucks coffee cups. When the big storm of this year came I rejoiced again, this time with friends. Steph and I hit campus with the dog who romped through snow that was taller than she was in places. Our stoic non-playful dog looked like a puppy rolling in snow, bounding and racing. Steph too, not one for snow play, made snow angels with me and joined in the snowball throwing albiet reluctently at first, then with exuberance. The snow was beautiful. The trees were heavy with it and it coated everything. We met friends at our house for hot cocoa and what ended in snow goddess making. I had made two snow women and a snow dog inside our fenced in yard, but out on the sidewalk someone rolled a huge snowball up that was nearly as tall as me. Aggie and I had made snow goddesses back in Indiana. This time our friend Linh joined us as we carved and sculpted women all over the giant snowball to the delight (or dismay) of drivers passing by. They were beautiful curvy women with full breasts, the reasons for the honks I am sure. Days later the snow was still here. A leak developed in our roof dripping on our bed, and everything that melted froze overnight until parking lots and sidewalks and some side streets were dangerous and icicles hung like daggers. Days later and our beautiful white snow went the way of so many Midwestern snows of my youth, dirty piles of cinder and sand and snow. Tree limbs bent and broke under all the weight, the magical white landscape lost it's sparkle, and the hassle of getting around wore thin for some, making my usually friendly city full of impatient and grouchy people who were/are terrible drivers. For me, I am ready for Spring.

We've been watching football. Great games, fast, close, nail biters. An excuse to stay in pajamas until three in the afternoon and having snacks in place of meals. We watched the Patriots game tonight (Linh's team) and had a great time. And we played dominoes waiting for the L-Word to come on. Surprisingly, I lost, badly. Also surprisingly, Steph won! Yay Steph! I would have rather played another round of dominoes and not watched the L-Word. I know, I know, I'm a lesbian, there for I must love the L-Word, it's Lesbian law or something like that. I can't help it. I hate the L-Word. I don't mean to and for the most part it's not because they are all beautiful women, I love beautiful women, and it's not because all but one of the women are actually straight, they're actors playing roles. I hate it because I hate the writing, terrible dialogue, idiotic plot lines, very few fully rounded characters. I just don't care about them. I want to, but there are so many plot twists and so many character additions. I think the really great shows spend time with their characters and make them real to their audience, not just eye candy, not just caricatures. I like Alice, I liked Dana ok. I like Shane, there is a lot to want to like, but ultimately the writers don't do enough with what they have. And what kills this show for me , what killed it from the very beginning, is that I really didn't get or like many of the main characters, Bette, Kit, Tina, Jenny. They are trying to cover too many bases rather than staying with a handful of characters and let them live and breath and exist for the audience. None of this is news really, people either love it or hate it, but it's disappointing that this is the show we get.

In a way, it's the perfect show for guys, a bunch of hot women who spend the majority of their time in the throes of some kind of disaster or having sex, or in the throes of disastrous sex. Either way, they are beautiful, semi-naked, and all over each other. I kills me when I mention how I don't like this show and all of a sudden I'm not the lesbian I am supposed to be, what do you mean you don't watch the L-Word!

I think the thing is that I am over the whole lesbian thing. I have my moments where one more straight person could push me over the edge and I have to watch queer films for a week to feel right and whole. But honestly, Steph and I have been together for so long, and we have our life and our friends, many who aren't gay and we don't spend a whole lot of time thinking about it, let alone talking about it, etc. In fact, I mostly don't think about it until someone who is straight brings it up. Like this guy who says to Steph and I on separate occasions, my wife has this lesbian friend who doesn't know too many people. She's kind of crazy, but could use some friends. I wanted to say, hey, I know this guy, he's kind of a homophobe and has his head up his ass, but he could really use a friend. I would never want to be closeted, but I hate how this one thing about me is sometimes the only thing people see. When I say I'm over it, this is what I mean, I am not my sexuality. I love good gay movies and I hate crappy Showtime dyke melodrama. I am not interested in your gay friends, unless they love movies and sports and dogs and art and books. I am not a lesbian directory or dictionary or thesaurus, or your gay guide to Albuquerque. I've been meaning to get that off my chest for a little while now.

I am at a crossroads of sorts. I need to write for myself. I need to write something, period. Right now I feel like a fraud, I am worried that I am going to end up being one of those people always in the middle of writing but never publishing, never working as a writer. I know the only thing that separates the lunatics who are always writing their novel from the people who actually do it is guts. I have guts damn it! So what's wrong with me? I can't even say this is writer's block. I fill my time with other things, I worry about other things. I am desperately afraid that I cannot sustain a lengthy narrative. Steph jokes about me writing a best seller or a screen play, both great ideas except that it means I have to actually do it.

After the football, the dominoes and the L-Word Steph, Aggie and I left Linh and Rachelle's and entered the very cold night. Icy, breath sucking cold. But the sky was clear and the stars were so very bright.

2006-12-02T21:01:00.000-05:00

I know I do this from time to time, make recommendations. People, go see Bobby. It's in theaters right now. I am not going to tell you too much about it, except that I liked this movie like I liked Good Night, and Good Luck. It's a smart film, and afterward Steph and I talked and talked about some of Bobby's speeches in the movie. They are words that we need to hear now, words that are absolutely valid today, words that made sense to the two of us, and we were able, in a way, to think on what our nation lost that night.

We recently saw Stranger Than Fiction, which I also liked. I love Emma Thompson, and I love writing. I think I liked this film more than Steph did...but it's enjoyable, something different.

On our list of movies to see, I think it's called The Holiday. It's the movie with Kate Winslet and Cameron Diaz. I love them both, I also love a good romantic comedy. And on that note, the film coming out with Diane Keaton, I know, but I love her, and as someone said in a movie I saw once...true love lasts a lifetime. Also, Steph and I have seen a Diane Keaton movie every holiday season for the last three years.

We are also going to see The Pursuit of Happyness with Will Smith and his young son. I have a feeling that we are going to recommend you people go see this movie as well. I'm betting it's going to be excellent. Also...I love Will Smith.

I think that's about it.

ciao for now

2006-11-21T20:40:00.000-05:00

I washed the dog the other day. I got her in the tub. Soaked her down, then realized I was out of dog shampoo. She really needed the bath, and water alone wasn't going to be enough...so I reached for the Aveda. I figured they don't test on animals, so why not use it. I have to tell you she was so incredibly soft afterward, but I had no idea just how clean she was until Steph and I took her to the park. The sun hit her coat, (particularly her back side, where her fur is lighter) and she was absolutely sparkly...I mean, PING!!!!! We have since purchased dog shampoo, a lovely animal friendly product with a fresh lavender scent. I'm worried I will be disappointed in the results the next time I give her a bath (which will be soon because after a trip to the duck pond (where she rolled in duck poo) she once again smells dusty, duck poopy, and corn chippy.) I am equally afraid that that disappointment will lead me down a dark dark path where in I will continue bathing my dog in $50 shampoo.

2006-10-28T15:00:00.000-04:00

When I was a kid my dad decided to take us on a cross-country road trip from Indiana to San Francisco, us three girls, my mom, and him. We were young. My middle sister had terrible motion sickness and vomited almost the entire way there and back. My youngest sister was a budding nudist, refusing to leave her diaper on.

It was over Christmas break that we took this trip and my dad wanted to be sure we saw everything there was to see in America, which is admirable except that we were really too young to remember most of it. I remember very little besides the nudist and the puking, but my most vivid memory is of the Grand Canyon.

We pulled in there to late to see anything and overnight it snowed and by morning we were still in the thick of it. We stood at the North Rim and he pointed out into the whiteness and said, "There! See it?" One of the girls was cold, the other was still half asleep and I stood there straining to see what he was pointing to. It didn't look all that different than the blizzards in Indiana, the ones we got stuck in every year when we went to the South Lake Mall for Christmas shopping, all that lake effect snow making everything disappear until we were surrounded by white. I tried, but I couldn't see anything. My dad was a broken man that day. He had already endured days of his family crammed into a station wagon, days of puking and fussing and the nudist wearing her diaper on her head like a hat. And we stood on the rim of the Grand Canyon in a white-out.

Steph and I decided to go see the Dixie Chicks in Phoenix on a whim. We made our reservations, and bought our plane tickets on sale only to have the concert date changed a couple of months later. We couldn't attend on that date and we couldn't cancel our reservations and tickets without taking a huge loss, so we decided to go to Phoenix anyway. We could have fun, find something to do, make a little vacation out of it. I jumped on the computer and started looking around. The Grand Canyon and Sedona were perfect. I had wanted to go to Sedona the last time we went to Las Vegas but they had just had a ton of rain and were flooded out. And I had been to the Grand Canyon, but going in a snow storm is not really experiencing it. Steph had never been and that pretty much settled it. Both destinations were day trips from Phoenix and with the city at 107 degrees in the daytime, heading north sounded like just the thing to beat the heat.

So here it is, our trip to the Grand Canyon.

Steph's first time seeing it.

And mine too!

Steph at the Hopi House

At the gift shop there was a book filled with the names of all the people who fell over the edge of the canyon. It was over four hundred pages long!

It's a long way down!

There really isn't anything like it.

We hiked along this trail on the South Rim to reach this point for sunset. All along the trail there were no guard rails and a narrow rocky path to walk along. We had to climb a little in two places and I was so scared that I just kept taking pictures and moving along, afraid to stop too long and get freaked out by how close we both were to the edge. Steph trucked along behind me and much to my horror, tripped twice! I heard that sound, her shoes scuffling in the rock and the sound of the rock pinging of other rock. It would not have taken much to fall over the edge and she tripped! twice! and nearly gave me a heart attack! In the end, it was so amazing, not just the sight, but that we saw it together, and that we lived!

The day was perfect for this trip, high eighties/low nineties, bright blue skies, huge white clouds, the occasional rain shower. The best part of this trip north was watching the changing landscape from the saguaro cacti and palm trees of Phoenix to cooler sages and prickly pear, to more tall pines and red rock. The west had a bunch of rain this year and we saw flowers and cacti blooming all along our trip north. It was a great way to spend a day together.

Our next installment of our trip to Arizona, Sedona coming soon...

2006-10-04T15:07:00.000-04:00

Did you know there are approximately 4370 potato casserole recipes online? I know! That's a lot of potatoes and cheese and sour cream and bacon and leeks and pimentos and cheese and cream and cheese. Did I mention cheese? Well, I'm looking for a killer potato recipe as I have plenty of russets at the moment and would not like them to go to waste. So if you know of any...pass them along. I am really loving our Los Poblanos Farms boxes we get every other week, tons of great, fresh, organic produce!

On to other news. We saw Amy and David Goodman speak last week, Amy the host of Democracy Now! and her brother David, investigative journalist and writer for Mother Jones, what an amazing night. As we were walking home Steph said, I don't get it. I said, don't get what and she said, how she can report all that she reports on and still manage to be optimistic about the future. The Goodman's new book Static: Government Liars, Media Cheerleaders, and the People Who Fight Back, much like Stephen Kinzer's Overthrown: America's Century of Regime Change from Hawaii to Iraq, is an eye opener. And I struggled with the information I was hearing (and subsequently reading) that night as well. It's gruesome stuff, evidence that what I thought was wrong with our government really was only surface problems stemming from much greater deceits. I won't spoil it for you...buy the book and read it...then buy it as a holiday gift for your family and friends. I don't care what side of the political debate you're on, the kind of lies told, the kinds of deceptions exposed should never happen regardless of who is in power.

My parents are pretty middle of the road conservatives and the problem with every debate we have ever had was knowledge. Yes, my parents will, on some levels, know more than me about some things...experience over youth and all of that. But in this case, I feel that they are in a huge voting population that doesn't know that they are being misinformed and mislead. If they know, I don't think they know how far or for how long. I am sending them this book. ]Maybe they'll read it, maybe they'll stop using Fox news as their primary source for information. Be smart. Check out Democracy Now! at www.democracynow.org

Our vacation to the Grand Canyon has long since passed...so has my promise to upload more great photos. This does not mean that I am uploading more photos right this second...I will say that I will try and post them soon, perhaps no later than this weekend. We are heading south to Carlsbad to see our friend and surrogate mother Connie during fall break. There will undoubtedly be more photos...so the pressure is on now to get those Grand Canyon photos on here before the next trip, which will also include Carlsbad Caverns. BATS!

For now I clean the house, which, under my careful tutelage has turned into an impossible dusty, cobwebbed hovel. So I am off to swiffer my floors, knock down the webs and finish going through the closet exchange of tank tops and t-shirts to pants and sweaters.

ciao!

2006-09-16T03:05:00.000-04:00

What we did at the tail end of our summer vacation....

More on our trip to the Grand Canyon and Sedona coming soon. But tonight was Dr. Maya Angelou and her message....remembering the rainbows in our clouds, those that shine light on our paths....remembering that we too are
rainbows in someone's cloud, the rainbow that figure of hope, the light shining through darkness. People might think it's hokey, too spiritual, too something. But tonight Dr. Angelou was on target with her message. Now, in a time when we can feel so insecure, so worried about the future, so pent up with those questions, am I doing enough? Am I right? Am I good? I spend most of my time loving life, the people in it, my environment. I like the simple message. It's easy, really, to be thankful for people in our lives, not just our friends and family but strangers too, who do that one little thing that helps us get on with living and loving. So thank you, all you rainbows in my cloud. I think that I am doing right, living the good life. I smile when I greet people, I say thank you, help out whenever I can. It's easy to do that in New Mexico, so many smiles from strangers, so many sunny days. I hope, wherever we end up, I can carry a little of this with me. I think it is kindness that she's talking about, because it rubs off. I don't have to be in a hurry, I don't have to be demanding, I don't have to be the center of the universe. Happiness is sitting at a cafe in a early evening breeze talking about a great reading. I was surprised at her age, I am always surprised by this when I see authors that I love, and I know in that instant that this opportunity to hear them read may be my only opportunity. Afterward Steph said, with a little melancholy in her voice, we've seen so many great authors and I can't really remember all that they said. I thought about it, and it was true, I couldn't recall the specifics. She said, maybe if we wrote about it, it would stay with us. I said that I think they do stay with us in a way, the way the author's voice gets in our head the next time we read their work, the vibe we got from the person, the power projected, the energy. Hearing Dr. Angelou was a singular experience, uplifting, inspiring, her gift to all of us in the audience reminding me so much of one of Connie's blessings.

2006-08-23T23:10:00.000-04:00

Wild Turkey, Medieval Dudes, Frizbee Dodgball?, and Joy Harjo

1. Wild Turkey

Steph, Aggie and I walked Chloe from our house on Yale up to Nob Hill, exercise for the evening on a night full of cooling air and lightening putting on a show over the Sandia Mountains. Along the way we met many Chloe admirers. This isn't unusual. She's an unusual dog. People like guessing what breeds she's mixed with: corgi/retriever, dachshund/retriever, etc. She is, in fact, a basset/retriever mix, though many people who encounter her feel very certain that we, the shelter, and our vet are mistaken. Oh well!

That evening we ran into young people beginning their evenings out, families having ice cream at Cold Stone Creamery, throngs of people eating at Kelly's. And then we stumbled on him. A gem, a one of a kind, the happiest drunk in Albuquerque that evening, a man we will forever think of as Wild Turkey.

Wild Turkey sat precariously perched atop his ten speed and leaned over and said in slurred delight, "I bet I can pet your dog!" to which I replied, "she's not really into people," to which he replied again, "Naw! I bet I can pet him!" The idea of Wild Turkey petting Chloe was ridiculous. He could barely stand, let alone ride that bike, though he was doing both. What he could not do was bend over at the waist without falling over, something he would have to do if he wanted to pet my low rider dog. It was at that moment, a tall, skinny, scarecrow-from-wizard-of-oz-like man, happiest drunk in the Q, gains his nickname. Because at that moment, with him wavering over my dog like a mirage, I spy the mostly full bottle of Wild Turkey in the water bottle holder of his bike. He chatted us up from The Frontier restaraunt to The Satellite Cafe. Then an image played out before me: he rides off, loses his balance crashes his bike, breaks the bottle of Wild Turkey, and drops his lit cigarette as he goes down, effectively becomeing a human Molotov coctail. This of course didn't happen. He waved at us enthusiastically with the hand holding the lit cigarette and he wobbled on down the road talking to each passer by.

2. Medieval Dudes at Bataan Park part II and Something That Looked Like Frizbee Dodgeball.

We love Bataan Park for all the wonderful and sometimes strange encounters we've had there. Chloe loves it for it's grass and the plethora of friendly dog tushes she can sniff. This week was no different as we encountered once again, the medieval dudes in full armour and chain male kicking some knights-of-the-round table booty. Kids and dogs in tow of course, the kids pay jousting with pool noodles. I love watching them and while I wouldn't want to be on the receiving end of one of those stick/swords, I think I would really like wacking the heck out of someone with a big stick and it's refreshing to know that there's a healthy outlet for something like that.

Straight men dressed in shorts and t-shirts (no team logos or anything, just average gym wear) played what I am guessing is a combinaiton of frizbee and dodgeball on the opposite side of the park from the medieval dudes. They stand in two lines facing each other and as near as Steph and I can tell they get points for catching the hard flung frizbees from the other side. The lines stand ridiculously close together and many of the men wear gloves and do a kind of running or skipping thing before the fling the disc. And it is a fling, not a throw, it doesn't gracefully soar across the green expanse of the park, it is whipped at the other players like a weapon. I find it nearly as complelling as the hot, sweaty guys in heavy ass armour beating the crap out of each other with wooden swords.

There's a memorial at the park honoring the men who fought in WWII...hence the name Bataan Park. They've been doing rennovation on the memorial for a while now and had the granite monoliths inscribed with the men's names covered for protection during construction. Sadly I think that their efforts didn't pay off. The granite is stained at the bottom of all of the monoliths and in some places the stain reaches up to the names on the bottom of each slab of stone. I don't know anything about the processes used in completing the new walk that these slabs stand on, and I hope that I'm wrong and that in a few months time the stain will dry up and disappear. But for now, the monument looks terrible, not at all the way we would want to remember these brave men.

3. Joy Harjo at the Farmer's Market

Writer, Poet, Musician, Teacher, Muskogee Indian, all around awe inspiring individual, buys corn from the same farmers market that we do! It was an uncanny thrill to stand at the end of a pickup truck, pull out my six ears only to discover the news. I turned to face Steph who had this look on her face. I said, "What?" and she said, "Joy Harjo." I was like, "Where?" and then I saw her, cell phone flipped open, talking to someone about the good price on corn. Chills people, chills. I am so uncool. I don't know what to do when I encounter someone who completely blows me away. I want to yell, you're awesome! I love your work. But I know I wouldn't be saying anything new. I am not a great thinker. I can't, in those moments put together a coherent sentence. Mostly I just stand there and stare like an idiot, then shuffle away quietly. This Saturday I think I said something like, "No way! Joy Harjo shops at our farmer's market! We are so cool!"

2006-08-10T00:38:00.000-04:00

Goodbye Days of Sloth

Hello healthful days of dog walks and jobs and good home cooking. Today Steph and I got up early, or as early as we could get up after a night of earth quaking thunderstorms and a nervous dog pressed between us in bed. Not a usual occurance I can tell you. So said dog got into bed with us and Steph waged a war with Oscar the cat who was trying to sleep on her face. I had my own agenda, a computer battle with spider solitare. I love this game and after winning consecutively, the computer refused to let me win...ever. So with the shivering dog and the Steph/cat war being waged, I played on until I won a single game. The dog gave up our bed for her own around 4 a.m. and peace decended over the household.

The wakeup call was too early. We have decided that the dog whisperer is right that with enough exercise, discipline and love bad dogs can become good dogs. With that in mind we have committed to early rising and early morning dog walks on campus and around our neighborhood...which we postponed this a.m. for another hour of sleep.

But, once out of bed, your intrepid dog owners got off their slacker behinds and took their beloved La Loca (Chloe) for the walk of her life...a walk they are planning to do every day...approximately two hours....at the end of which will be a panting dog, tongue lolling to the side, completely sniffed out and ran down.

This morning, extra hour of snoozing aside, was a complete success. We, your intrepid dog owners will try again tomorrow a.m.

On to food news where another delicious lunch was made using spiced up chicken, homemade guacamole, and fresh diced tomatoes stuffed in pita bread. Ta da!

Good news...I found out today that I got the administrative assistant job at the Journal of the International Neuropsychological Society. I just hope by the time they do their background check and I go in for training, I will learn how to say the name of the journal without stumbling. Ha!

After lunch/dinner, We took a walk from our place all the way up to Nob Hill with La Loca. As predicted, all parties enjoyed the festive atmosphere of lovely shops, plenty of sniffs, and a tired pooch at the end of our journey. I am hoping this will eventually result in smaller waistlines for the intrepid dog walkers.

Dessert tonight consisted of mini vanilla bunt cakes (individual sized) topped in chopped bananas, kiwi, and a blueberry puree with whipped cream. Oh yeah baby!

We are now in bed where Steph is attempting to read and Oscar (the cat) is inches from her face.

The stare down is over and I declare Oscar the winner as Steph has put down her book and is now quietly snoring. Tonight: Oscar/1 Steph/0
Tomorrow is another day.

Ciao!

2006-08-06T19:25:00.000-04:00

This is one of many monsoon rainbow pictures on The Duke City Fix flickr and most accurately portays what that monsoon looks like rolling in. Chloe and I are readying ourselves for an evening of rain, rain, and more rain. Sitting outside under another specacular rainbow, one of the most vivid I've seen as the air takes on a chill and the sky darkens. Wind gusts tell us what we've in store for us, and really, I can't wait. New Mexico is one of the few places I can enjoy these massive storms without fear of tornados. So the dog and I will hunker down for our last night alone. Steph returns tomorrow.

I got hooked on watching the Dog Whisperer this weekend. With nothing much on the tube, I found myself drawn to Cesare's approach to problem dogs. After finishing Marley & Me I felt pretty resigned to Chloe's behavioral issues. And like many of Cesare's clients, I realized while watching his show that seperation anxiety isn't Chloe's only problem. She is overly protective, etc. I know these behaviors disappear at doggy daycare, a place where we are forbidden to go out in the yard with the dogs. There she is a dog being a dog with other dogs. I think some of the techniques he uses on his show might be a way for us to put Chloe at ease. She may never like being alone, but she doesn't have to freak out the entirety of our time apart. Will keep you posted if we make any strides in this regard.

2006-08-04T20:09:00.000-04:00

I just finished reading Marley & Me. What a great book, particularly for dog lovers, particularly for those who love and live with "problem" or "bad" dogs. I'm not going to mention anything about Marley & Me other than, please read this book. I don't want to ruin your discovery of this unflappable dog and his family. What I will say is that once I was finished with the book all of my hopes and fears and trials with Chloe, our basset/retriever mix, were at once fully realized and put to rest. We love her and have endured house demolition, thunderstorm chaos, big brown eyes and the softest ears, the leaning, the shedding, and her obsessive protectiveness, and much like John Grogan's devotion to Marley, we couldn't imagine our lives without her.

The first drywall demolition/carpet ripping/wood blind eating we chalked up to our new dog parenthood. Afterall, she was a grown dog when we picked her out of death row at the pound, so surely we were at fault. The second time it happened we were concerned when we saw our drywall dust covered dog and her bloody feet. The third time it happened we cried and told each other we should send her back to the pound. What else could we do? And then we cried some more and decided to try, once again, to kennel her when leaving the house. Her first dog crate, a metal crate was shredded along with a swatch of carpet in the bedroom. Her injury that time, a scratch on the roof of her mouth. We decided to go plastic, because at least if she broke out she wouldn't hurt herself. We learned to patch drywall.

Since that time she's ripped out one of her canines and chipped another trying to escape. This shouldn't have come as a surprise to us. She was in the pound for the first second and third times for chewing out of fenced in yards, each time the owner relinquishing stating, "I don't want a chewer."

We've tried a lot of tricks and treats since then and I can safely say she has made miniscule improvements. She still hates to be left alone, and hates thunderstorms. The biggest change has really been with Steph and I. We are resigned to the fact that at five years old, this old dog will never love her kennel, and will always stress out when we have to leave her. Our schedules mean Chloe is never left alone for long. That said, we leave her alone almost everyday, even if only for a little bit so that leaving for work or school will be less traumatic. And I think, as she is aging, she is mellowing. She rarely lifts a head for a thunderstorm unless it's wicked bad...and the noisy street of our new rental house and the fireworks coming from Isotopes ballpark have accostomed her to a bunch of the noises that drove her batty before.

This is a lot of blah, blah, blah to say if you're a dog lover of a troubled dog, or of any dog really, read Marley & Me.

Chloe is hunting a fly and I know she is biding her time, waiting for me to unplug and pick up the leash. The rain down to a trickle and the air cooling, every once in awhile she, after leaping and snapping at the fly, looks over at me, asking me with her eyes, "Is it time yet?"

2006-08-01T00:05:00.000-04:00

The job interview today was a success so I may soon be gainfully employed, for twenty hours at least. It's a good deal that will pay me more than the library, though sans benefits.

To celebrate Steph and I went to Flying Star on Rio Grande and split a superb chicken sandwich and a choco pie.

Soon after our tasty lunch we had to get a move on, to target to do a return and then on to fourth street to pick up Chloe at doggy day care. On the way there the skies turned from Georgia O'Keefe (blue blue skies, row after row of white fluffy clouds) to mucho thunderstormous. We had flash flood warnings within fifteen minutes of it starting and it came down steady all night and is still raining, good for plants, not so good for the road to and from doggy daycare, (and pretty much everywhere else around town!) as very soon, on our drive to get Chloe, the road became a river. In some places it was up to the bottom of the doors. We made it, barely, and I got out, ran in and got her and came back to the car. My poor dog practically swam (she's a basset retriever mix (picture a very long low golden/lab looking dog on very very short legs.)) and we got soaked, my pants were wet all the way up to my thighs! That said, we made it home, dried off, warmed up then proceeded to get bummed out about the news, part of which started with npr in the car.

Did I mention the leak over our bed/on my side, that they can't fix until it dries out, and that won't happen until it stops raining.

But had delicous warm nectarine pie. I know, I know, we ate choco pie earlier, but it was an emergency. We were wet and cold and needed pie stat.

2006-07-30T21:37:00.000-04:00

For some of you this is not news. But for those who don't already know about it, my bike was stolen. The fact that my bike was stolen doesn't bother me as much as the fact that I think it was the pizza delivery guy who did it and that he did it while we were home. And as if that wasn't creepy enough, the bikes were parked and locked up right under our bedroom window. And, and, and, did I mention that he cut the cable lock and that he had to come onto our patio (surrounded by six foot high (at least) fence, through two gates which are normally padlocked? And did I mention our dog who was inside barking her head off (at the weather, we thought.)? He also took the bike helmut...so glad to know our thief was safety conscious...hmmmm, break into someone's patio, brave the dog, cut their lock, but oh yes, take the helmut...safety first!

Argh!

So once the semester starts and I have a job, I will, once again be in the market for a bike...and a helmut.

I'm interviewing tomorrow for a job at a science/health journal. It's an international academic journal and the position would be an admin. assistant job. We will see.

I would really like a paycheck soon.
Money. Yes. Please.

2006-07-25T19:10:00.000-04:00

Ah Ha! The viking dude drives a bright yellow one of these!

It's a Volkswagen Thing. I love it.
Now imagine it bright yellow with a huge hulking viking looking dude in twin yellow braids and handlebar mustache driving around in Los Ranchos. hee!

I've several applications out there, most for teaching. No hits as of yet. I wish one would just reject me already. They've had my app since April. I know they haven't decided on their fall lecturers yet, but geez. They should just get it over with already, say no, loser, we don't want you.

On the brighter side. I made killer tacos tonight. Tra la!

2006-07-20T19:08:00.000-04:00

So many viruses so little time.

My computer was hijacked by a nasty bug and is now super clean and fast. Yay me. When I have a chance, sometime later this week, I have great pics to post of Doug's visit, of Steph, Chloe and I in the park acting goofy, etc. So the following is a list of things I've been wanting to share while suffering through computer outage.

At the end of Doug's visit, when we were headed into the Frontier Restaraunt, a girl stopped next to our car and said I love your bumper sticker (TOWANDA). She said, Fried Green Tomatoes right? And we were like, yeah, and she was like, my mom is best friends with Kathy Bates. Then she waved and drove off and I was like, No way! We love Kathy Bates. She rocks.

So what else.....oh...saw the Viking again in weird car. If I ever have my camera with me I will take a picture.

It's been hot and thunderstormy out, which I like, but not so much when the dog gets all scared and tries to sleep on my face.

I love Trader Joe's. We got so much good food yesterday. And I bought a huge basil plant which has already gotten some use.

We attended a lavender festival, pictures forthcoming, which was a total hoot. First of all, we get there and the fields are lovely, long rows of lavender, just gorgeous. We decided to walk around the farm first and of course Steph was in love with the animals, two donkeys who's enclosure sported the sign "we bite" and some rather loud chickens. When it came time to cut our lavender I tried coaxing her in the field. She stood at the edge and was like, in there with the bees? The bees were way to busy sucking up all the nectar to bother with us and I picked my fill and she picked three sprigs and we had a blast. Afterward we walked down to the farmer's market on Rio Grande Blvd and they were also celebrating lavender with lavender lemonade, honey, crafts, sachets, etc. I had some delicious mint tea and took home some fresh herbs.
My lavender plant I bought from the main farm, Los Poblanos Farms, is thriving in my planting bed. I'm crossing my fingers that Chloe doesn't thing that the little plant will make the perfect bed or pee spot.

there's more, there's so much more, but after five days held hostage by a crap virus and after all day today getting Steph's computer better protected, I am exhausted. So a better update is in the works including fun picks.

ciao for now
me

2006-06-30T18:24:00.000-04:00

Storms, Giant Walking Penises, and Such

Finally monsoonal rain hits Albuquerque. We've had several days of late afternoon thunderstorms which have produced more than lightening. Yesterday's deluge resulted in enough H2O to flood streets and saturate the ground. My plants have now gotten the first rain of the season and are very happy.

Steph and I have continued our biking in the Bosque and have twice battled some wicked wind along the trail, but the wildlife along the way makes it worth it, tons of rabbits, coyotes howling, lizards, etc. Loving it!

I've already written happy gay pride, but Santa Fe's gay pride happens a week after Albuquerque's. So last weekend found Steph and I and a few friends partying in the Santa Fe square where Steph ran into a hairy bear of a guy in assless chaps, full on hairy ass exposed, as well as a giant walking penis. I wanted to get her photo next to the penis but she would not have it. It did make me giggle though everytime she saw either assless chaps guy or mr. penis. That evening we ate at Tomasita's, my fav. Santa Fe restaraunt. Steph had blue corn, green chile enchiladas which came with beans and rice and I had the beef and red chile enchilada. She cleaned her plate as did I and when we got home her gas started. She had window rattling, paint peeling gas until about 2 a.m. I told her that the next time we go to Tomasita's she isn't ordering any beans!

Other fun sightings:

An enormous black great dane emerging from a Prius along with two owners and a golden retriever and a child.

Medieval dudes at Bataan Park battling it out with wooden swords and shields (one guy was decked out in full body armor and another had chainmail.)

Viking man on the side of the road, long blonde fuzzy-ish braids, HUGE handlebar mustache.

Me doing the splits in the entry way while trying to prevent my cat Oscar from escaping onto the patio. (unintentional)

Steph doing pilate's stretches with a big balance ball. (mostly her mumbling to her self while trying to do the stretches was funny.)

Other cool sightings:

The Air Force's Thunderbirds practicing for an air show right over our house.

The counter at Cake Fetish. (I know I love this place beyond what's reasonable. But this time I had a cupcake called Amore! It was chocolate cupcake filled with strawberry jam topped in chocolate ganache and french butter cream and a strawberry slice. Ah divine!)

Sad sighting:

Homeless woman (a regular who at one time in her life was a prominent attorney who now suffers from schitzophrenia (sp.) ) walking down a flooded street drapped in a blanket, her tattered shorts falling off her legs.

Also sad, today, seeing Cy for the first time in over a year. He is more stooped and fraile than I had imagined. I'm glad we've finished his project today and glad he has it in his hands. He's had some bad days of late and I did not realize how close to running out of time we were with him. It would be great if he could stick around long enough to see this project we've worked on published by a small press.

On a happy note, he sounded good and he made it down stairs to talk with us. He's a great guy and I'm grateful I had this time with him.

That's about it for now....wait! food!

So you know about Tomasita's and Cake Fetish. We also went crazy at Il Vicino's yesterday and ate a small brick oven pizza, some five cheese pasta, and a huge salad. It was all so good! We left the house just before the rain started and managed to stay pretty dry during the worst of the storm while we waited for our food. This morning, after dropping Chloe off at doggy daycare, Steph and I went to flying star where she had a grabburrito (basically an ENORMOUS breakfast burrito) and I had a short stack of french toast with a side of green chile turkey sausage (to die for!) and some breakfast potatoes. We made lunch at home....Hot turkey and swiss sandwich topped with bacon, lettuce, and tomatoes. A side of fruit salad (left over banana, nectarine, plum, and cherries) and some chips and a new beverage fav. of mine....from POM it's white tea with peach and it comes in a very cute glass with a snap on lid which I plan to collect.

I think that's everything. Phew!

2006-06-21T14:56:00.000-04:00

Busy, busy, busy...but that's no excuse for no post!

I've been back in the Duke City for about a month now and I realized on our evening walks in Old Town that I've been missing two of my most favorite happenings.

After shops are about closed up and tourists head into the heart of the city for dinner, a group of young guys and sometimes girls would gather at the gazebo in front of the San Felipe de Neri church and they would dance. This was not your ordinary dancing, this was acrobatic breakdance inspired dancing, flips, incredible feats of balance, flexability, and flair, head spins, you name it, they did it. And they did it respectfully. Their music wasn't obnoxious and often tourists and locals young and old gathered to watch them perform. I haven't seen them since I've been back in town. Maybe now that it's summer we are going too early.

My other favorite happening is encountering my ladies walking Chachi and sometimes his little friends. My ladies are Patsy and Lucy, both elderly, both locals and both funny and bawdy as hell. They walk their little dog Chachi who is my dog Chloe's boyfriend. He's a funny little buff colored Lhasa Apso, sweet as can be and a real character, who has a gaggle of girlfriends big and small. I fell in love with Chachi when I first saw him and then I fell in love with these two wonderful women who remind me of Ethel and Lucy. They talk about the elderly men who gather at the corner of the church to gossip, etc. It took almost a month of me being back before I saw them. I worried every day that one or the other might have fallen ill as they do from time to time, and when we finally did run into each other again it was like a reunion. They hugged me and asked me about school and if I was back for good now. I noticed Patsy had a cane, which she joked about. They said now that Tiguex park had been rennovated, they start their walk there and end in Old Town; that's how we were missing them.

Now that I've seen Patsy and Lucy, I feel like I am finally back in the fold. Now I just need to keep an eye out for the dancers, there was something so perfect about them dancing on the gleaming wood floor of the gazebo in the middle of some of the oldest buildings in the state, and in front of one of the oldest churches. They were beautiful to watch.

Steph and I are planning another bike ride for Friday, the same day I get my hair cut, and the same day Chloe goes to doggy daycare. Will let you know how it goes.

Ciao!

2006-06-12T15:24:00.000-04:00

Another Bosque Ride

So last night we decided to try the southern end of the trail near the Bio Park and Zoo. It was great! First of all, we started out around 7-ish, which meant that we missed most of the heat from the day. The ride was cool and a nice breeze blew across the acequia cooling us as we rode. We also passed many animal enclosures and could hear the coyotes and wolves in the zoo howling like crazy. It was scary and wonderful and made me feel all shivery. We heard tons of birds and saw lizards and rabbits, one very near the trail, so much so that I was afraid it would hop out and I would crash swerving to miss it. It wisely stayed off the path and I managed to stay in one piece. Yay me!

Before the ride we grilled hamburgers out and I made make-shift potatoes au gratin in a foil packet on the grill. They turned out great. I do love cooking with gas so much better than charchoal. I know, there's no tastey charcoal residue on the food, but on the plus side, it's safer for us to use out here in our fire prone locale and it's ready when I'm ready, no waiting on coals to get hot, no flare ups either. woo hoo!

I must look for a chocolate recipe of some kind because I am CRAVING chocolate. We are on a budget though and I have to wait until Wednesday before I can spend more $$. I think I have baking chocolate AND powdered cocoa, so look out!

Before chocolatey goodness though, I must work on Cy's project. I would like to finish this by Wednesday, so off to work for me!

Ciao!

2006-06-11T00:55:00.000-04:00

Happy Gay Pride!

We had grand plans for the day, beginning with an early morning trip to the farmer's market, followed by Albuquerque's gay pride parade, then breakfast. Of course we slept in and missed the farmer's market and had to scramble to make the pride parade. We made it with minutes to spare and thank god, because of course the dykes on bikes lead the parade and are fabulous. Our friend Veronica rides on the back of a huge Harley every year and she looks bad ass! Black hair flowing, leather from head to toe, she was smokin' this morning. The parade was awesome and do I love seeing gay people out and about. I missed it like crazy in Roanoke where I confused a nature loving mother and daughter for a couple of gay mommies. (Not my fault as they were dressed lands end, looked crunchy granola and were sporting ultra sporty teva sandels.) So with my gay people fix, Steph and I cruised over to Bataan Memorial Park to walk Chloe where we discovered the entire corner of the park covered in artisans. Yay us! We also saw a huge limb that had apparently came down after our last visit. This whole huge tree limb coming down in our parks is quite dangerous and deadly, the trees are too dry and branches snap AND have on occasion actually hit people. But today, no wind and so we walked without fear and the dog had her day rolling in god knows what and generally, well, just rolling about. Steph and I, in our committment to Chloe not spending her entire life suffering from separating anxiety, have vowed to leave her on her own at least once per day. So with the parade and the dog walk/art show over, we decided to drop her home and head to Flying Star for some french toast, green chile turkey sausage, and roasted potatoes. Yay us! It was delicious...and did I mention that at Flying Star they let us read magazines for free while we're eating? So we catch up on all the great mags that we would like to subscribe to but can't afford. Whee! Once home after much browsing of Nob Hill we remembered a Rachael Ray recipe that involved making a healthier version of buffalo wings using pancake mix and tabasco sauce. It totally works! You can find the recipe on her website. So to top off our day/night we watched Rent (yay netflix!) and then the fireworks visible over Isotopes Park. This is so cool as I love fireworks and we can see them for free every other week. I am off to plan our second bike ride tomorrow at the bosque. Hopefully this time we will go later, i.e. seven-ish instead of five-ish and I won't feel like falling out afterward. Steph is trying to work on a puzzle and Miss Congeniality 2 is playing in the background. She is not having much success as Selena (very large black and white persian cat) is laying across the puzzle and is trying to undo all her work. Ha!
That's all for now, must help her out before she and Selena come to blows.
Ciao!

2006-06-03T22:23:00.000-04:00

THE PROMISED UPDATE

So, biking in the bosque at five p.m. is a little crazy, but cool. Cool because the trails are paved and relatively straight with killer views of the acequia and the river. Crazy because at five p.m. the heat is really cranked up. We did five and a half miles before we were ready to fall out. I seriously thought I might have heat stroke, but cooled off in the car and drank a ton of water. Crazy also because my butt, unused to riding a bike...the last time these buns were on one was probably 1989...well, my butt is now killing me! Going to have to invest in a new cushy seat like the one we got for Steph who, on sitting on the bike in the store, made that there's no way in hell face when she first sat on the bike.

So, the biking was pretty successful as is the cooking. I've got the Cheesy Potato Casserole introduced to me by my friend Kim in the oven right this second and the blueberry cobbler will follow it. We are also going to fire up our new grill tonight and roast up some Hebrew National Hotdogs. I know it's late, but we've been busy. So my advice about the Cheesy Potato Casserole is to eat it in small quantities even though it is so good as to warrant eating whole platefuls in the middle of the night. Trust me, this recipe packs enough punch to clog even the heartiest of arteries, so small doses are a must and if you can manage it, a nice salad with a light dressing. The blueberry cobbler recipe is from cooks.com and is quite simple and tastey and of course should be eaten with a scoop of really good vanilla ice cream.

MY FRIEND KIM'S CHEESY POTATO CASSEROLE

Preheat oven to 350. Bake 45 min. in a 9x13 pan.
Mix together the following: 16 oz. sour cream, 1 can of cream of chicken soup, 16 oz. mild cheddar cheese, southern style hashbrowns (the ones that look like little diced potatoes).
Melt 3/4 cup of butter and pour and mix in half. Spread mixture in pan. Crush Ruffles chips and
sprinkle them over mixture. Pour remaining butter over top and bake.

SUPERFAST BLUEBERRY COBBLER

The buttery crust for this cobbler begins as a batter on the bottom and bakes through to the top. Best with glass bakeware. For easier clean-up, grease pan before filling.
1/2 c. (1 stick) butter1 c. flour1 1/2 tsp. baking powder1/2 tsp. salt1/4 c. sugar3/4 c. milk2 c. fresh blueberries (or 12 oz., frozen)1/2 c. sugar1/2 c. water
Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Melt butter in a shallow 1 1/2 quart baking dish. In mixing bowl, combine flour, baking powder, salt, sugar and milk; pour evenly over butter. Combine berries, sugar and water; spoon evenly over flour mixture. Do not stir. Bake 40 to 45 minutes. Makes 4 to 6 servings.

LUNCH TODAY

We tried Le French Corner today for lunch as were not disappointed. The food was fresh, the waitstaff friendly, and the pastry counter was to die for as were their very reasonable prices. I had the raved about chicken salad and I was blown away by the whole chunks of tender white chicken in homemade mayo lightly seasoned on a fresh baguette. A half a sandwich was around $3.50 which is a good find in the Duke City. Great atmosphere, we'll definitely be frequenting Le French Corner again!

2006-06-02T14:53:00.000-04:00

Steph and I did something last night that I've been wanting to do for years; we bought a couple of bikes.

I grew up in Rensselaer, Indiana, a town you could bike across in about ten minutes. I lived on my blue ten speed that I received on my tenth birthday with much fanfare. My dad refused to let me ride it until I had read the owners manual for my new royal blue Schwinn, but once that task was accomplished, it took me everywhere. I also had many accidents on it, one which resulted in an entire summer spent picking gravel out of my back. (I was wearing a tube top and hit a patch of gravel and as any of you other ten speed riders know, those old school skinny tires and gravel don't mix.)

So we finally did it, we bought the bikes, a pair of blue Schwinn mountain bikes, a cushy replacement seat for Steph, and a bike rack for the car. I was giddy thinking that now our 99 Corolla would join leagues of other sport-minded vehicles and we would look like that oh so desireable combination of academics/sport dykes. Hurrah! We spent 45 minutes in the well lit Target parking lot installing the bike rack so that we could get these bikes to our house. We did it with minimal cursing and made it successfully back to our house.

The plan on getting these bikes was that we would get up around six and bike along the bosque or other trails around Albuquerque. This morning found us wrapped in blankets at 8:30 so we opted to walk the dog, promising ourselves that this afternoon when Steph is exhausted from writing the dissertation and I have done my wifely duties: laundry, cooking (I'm baking a blueberry cobbler!), etc. we will slather on the sunblock and brave the sun for our bosque ride.

Updates to follow, along with blueberry cobbler results and recipe.

Ciao

2006-05-31T13:04:00.000-04:00

It's a lovely Duke City day, blue skys, light breeze, and clouds curling over the top of the Sandia Mts. like a wave--the kind of wave surfers jones about. We were up too early, leaving the house by six thirty to get La Loca (Chloe) to doggy daycare. We like to get her there by seven a.m. so she can enjoy a full day of play, and to get our money's worth. We send Chloe to daycare so that she can socialize more than anything, and really several years of being a regular at the Canine Country Club has brought out the good dog in our seperation anxiety plagued pound puppy.
So, with the blog updated and tweaked, I am off to write a bit, the first "serious" writing since finishing the thesis. Ciao!

2006-05-15T20:48:00.000-04:00

An Update In Several Parts

I. The thesis is done!

The day after I took my exams I broke out in hives, either stress or allergy related. I thought they would disappear when I turned in my thesis, but no luck. The upside, the thesis is done and after a whirlwind packing session with the help of Y.T. and Mike, managed to get the flock out of Roanoke. The thesis, what can I say about it...there are some stories that I would have just as soon left out and several stories I feel pretty satisfied with. All in all I did my best.

II. Roadtripping with my Honey.

We left Roanoke after a great send off from my friends and peers from Hollins. Great weather for the entire trip, thank goodness. Our first leg took us to Nashville, TN. A great place we'd like to visit again. That night proved to be the most uncomfortable motel experience. Unbeknownst to us we picked a Ramada Inn across from the Tennessee Titan's stadium. The freeway sounded like it ran through the motel and it was not very clean. The following day we ventured out for a little r&r and some food at Tin Angel, totally worth it. We had an arugola, tomato, mozzarella salad, brie topped grilled chicken and a tender beef stroganoff. All excellent. The next leg took us from Nashville to Tulsa, OK. We made it to I-40 and kept the pedal down through Tennessee, Arkansas, and part of Oklahoma. We have both decided that whenever possible we will avoid Arkansas on future road trips. Very scary. Also, strangely, we crossed the Arkansas river like ten times. We love Tulsa and when we travel through there we stay at the La Quinta Inn on Sheridan and had a restful stay at a clean motel with a great continental breakfast. The next day, on our way out of town we stopped at Panera Bread and got iced tea and an asiago cheese mini baguette to go. We hauled butt from Tulsa to Albuquerque and made it through the East Mountains at sunset. My city!

The beta fish, Bernard, made the trip safely and is happily swiming in his tank while I type.

So for the record...the various things we ate on the road--McDonalds, Chick Fil A, Taco Bell, Tin Angel, Panera Bread, Fazoli's.

For the record part duex...NEVER eat Taco Bell on a road trip.

III. Back home again.

Did a little re-arranging at the house, a little cleaning, setting up a place for me to write. Tomorrow, the yard gets my attention. Look out weeds. My plan, remove weeds, re-pot plants...probably heat loving perennials and annuals. Also tomatoes.

2006-04-30T17:25:00.000-04:00

I am typing at my desk and am sure that any moment the floor will fall out from under me. This isn't some kind of crazy hallucination. My landlord is doing maintanence (I think installing a new air conditioner for the main house) and sounds like he's sawing a support beam in two somewhere under my chair. I live in a cottage above a storage space where he stores his lawn mower and such. Usually nobody is down there, but he's down there right now, banging away, sawing away and I can't help think that maybe this is a job for a professional. Oh god, now he's drilling somewhere in the vicinity of my right foot!

2006-04-29T20:29:00.000-04:00

Ta da! I've taken my MA exams. Ga! Why are these rites of passage always so freakin humiliating? I did my best and it's done and that's all I really care about. Very soon Steph will be here and we will be driving back to Albuquerque! Woo Hoo! And I will garden and we will walk our dog in Old Town and I will eat breakfast burritos from Frontier and I will sit outside on the patio at Flying Star and have mango iced tea and grilled chicken with REAL chipotle mayo. Living in the southwest will forever kill my ability to ever love "Mexican" food anywhere else. Ha!

2006-04-22T13:50:00.000-04:00

Check out this month's issue of Word Riot and read my story No Dreamers.
Also, the new issue of Ghoti is up as well with my review of Dorothee Lang's Masala Moments.
Discovered a new drink last night called nuts and berries. yum.
Frangelico® hazelnut liqueur, Chambord® raspberry liqueur and cream.

2006-04-09T13:38:00.000-04:00

Passing

For the first time in many years I played it straight this morning. I've had many strange, funny, creepy interactions with Roanoke cab drivers. Today was no exception. I happened on a cab driver that was familiar with me, had picked me up before (I don't rememeber when) and felt he could share his current dilemma, a break up with his girlfriend. After ten minutes of break up details that nobody, especially me, needed to hear out loud, he began his, get to know you better dialogue, which turned into statements like, you don't drive, well, that makes it easier for your boyfriend to keep track of you.

I didn't correct him. I let a phantom man stand in as a kind of buffer between me and this man, who is probably not really some kind of psycho, but a lonely guy with personal boundry issues. He continued his fishing expedition mentioning my boyfriend twice more before I jokingly confirmed the lie, that yes, indeed, my boyfriend was a lucky guy. I made my own skin crawl. I hate that I didn't trust this guy enough to tell him the truth. I won't say that I've only felt the need to be closeted in southwest Virginia, because that wouldn't be true. But I've lived in Albuquerque for awhile now, a place that makes me feel safe, a place full of people who could give two shits about whether or not someone was gay. I've said it before, they have bigger fish to fry and they don't ask personal questions like that, nor do most of the people I've met out there jump to those conclusions.

I'm making too much of this I know. Or maybe I'm not. I went to a drag king show last night at Hollins, saw The Triangle Kings and Miss Gay Roanoke 2006 (who was fabulous!) Then I passed as straight today. There's something about this environment, particularly outside of the gay friendly/uber liberal Hollins campus that feels threatening, veiled racism, overt homophobia, women firmly in their place. He talked about his girlfriend as if she were a car or a piece of luggage, something that belonged to him.

I can't avoid the cab drivers. Burdening one's friends for rides on occasion is one thing, being dependent on them is another. Things aren't likely to change here, the tradition of the above is too ingrained. I can say this, I can't wait to get home.

2006-04-02T15:23:00.000-04:00

So contrary to my previous post, the thesis is coming along and I can't wait to get back to my beloved Steph and the city that stole my heart, Albuquerque. Besides the whole getting settled back in to our familiar and lovely routine, I can't wait to walk in the Bosque, meander through Old Town, take an urban hike through the city, eat at all my favorite places.

I'm looking forward to sunshine, and my garden. It will be patio gardening this time, since there are virtually no planting beds to be had. But I look forward to filling cobalt blue glazed pots with heat loving annuals and perennials.

I'm going to grill out every day.

I am going to make the rather large entryway (you'd have to see it to believe it, it's like a separate room from the house) into my home office/betta fish/and house plant habitat.

I'm looking forward to the sun, and dry air, and our noisy street.

I know we won't be able to stay there forever, that we will have to relocate for jobs when Steph is finished. But I wish I could make Albuquerque my permanent home, buy a house, put down roots, adopt a child.

For now, I write. In a couple of weeks I turn in the first draft of my thesis and take my exams. A couple of weeks after that, Steph arrives to bring me home.

2006-03-23T12:16:00.000-05:00

Thesis Schmeesis
Every time I go to work on my beloved thesis
<-------this is what happens. I think it's happening to all my MFA friends. We're almost at the end, we can see the finish line, and yet, we are compelled to party like it's our birthdays.

Ok, maybe we aren't partying. But we are certainly procrastinating. We send each other bizarre links to weird news or animated oddities.

We're eating.

We are discussing what we're doing, then not actually doing anything. We feel doomed, creatively impotent, and are impatient for this to be over. And yet, we fear the demise of our graduate school days. Jobs and the future are too scary to comprehend. And we're getting older.

I turn 35 on Saturday. I know what your thinking, that at 35 jobs and the future shouldn't be scary. But I think because I am older, the fear that I've taken too much time, that now I don't have much time to fuck around and find something significant to do for the remainder of my life, has taken hold. Try as I might, I am not a carefree twenty something. I'm a middle aged thirty something who needs to get it into gear, finish this damned degree, and get a freakin job already!

Thank you for letting me share!

Links-O-Procrastination

www.theonion.com

www.utube.com

http://gofugyourself.typepad.com

www.newsoftheweird.com

www.threadless.com

www.fark.com

This is a tiny smidgeon of what I have used to procrastinate and does not include all the on-line shops I've browsed, nor all the foodstuffs that I've eaten in order to get away from work.

la!

2006-03-20T16:28:00.000-05:00

Divorcing Your Family

There are times when I'm convinced that there are worse things than being motherless, or family-less. I've been leaving my family for years because I want different things than they do and because dialogue with them makes me want to pull my hair out, and because they are often hurtful, and because I am always gone.

Anytime we have a dispute they say, you're the one who left. Somehow my leaving and subsequent living in other states has translated to me having an existence so removed from theirs that their only way of understanding their relationship with me is my absence. I left home and didn't return save for visits every few years. I don't know the latest gossip. I didn't stick around to see people's kids grow up. I don't have an opinion about the crops, the state championship, etc. and therefore am unable to communicate. We no longer speak the same language.

Language.
My younger sister was the smartest of us three girls. She did better in school. She's certainly doing well in life. But conversations with her now are peppered with her saying things like, it don't work...when she puts me on hold to take another call and I ask who it is, she says, some foreigner. My youngest sister is no exception to this, and I know had I stayed, we wouldn't have this language barrier. I don't call often because we talk and have a good time and them one of them says something that I have to swallow. Coversations about why saying, some foreigner, bugs me is pointless. They simply say that I'm too sensitive. And maybe I am.

They like to deal tragedy to me over the phone. I can have a perfectly pleasant catching up conversation that ends in did you know so and so died? Most of the time it's people I don't know. This doesn't stop them from elaborating. When my mother and sisters aren't getting along, this is the part of the coversation when I get to hear about how awful one or the other of them is. I grew up like this, sitting in my mother's, my aunt's, my grandmother's kitchen listening to one of them saying horrible things about the other. I grew up never sure of who the bad guy really was.

We've been fighting this week. My youngest sister has planned a surprise wedding/hog roast that is neither a surprise nor is it now a wedding. She's a selfish youngest child even as an adult and planned the event the same weekend as my middle sister's birthday and my graduation from graduate school. So of course, all of us have different information, we try to make plans, confusion and chaos and hurt feelings happen. My mother calls to try to smooth things over and makes the entire thing about herself, like my youngest sister, equally selfish, and attention seeking. I want to divorce them. I want to excise the only thing that has been a constant source of pain and frustration. I've done it with everything else. Why not this?

I live a simple life in the pursuit of happiness. My family is the stone in my road tripping me up and I want to clear it off my path. Does this make me wrong, bad? I want to be happy but everytime they boomerang back into my world, everything is thrown out of balance. I can deal. I've been dealing. But why? Why keep them? Why continue to negotiate this relationship?
Family, that word, that construct, that idea is increasingly no longer enough for me.

If my family were my girlfriend or boyfriend people would tell me to break it off, to stop being codependent to somone who is not a good influence, someone who makes me feel bad. If my family (as girlfriend or boyfriend) called me fat, made jokes about how long it's taken me to get through school, called into question my vocation, my other relationships, if they wanted me only to themselves, people would call me crazy for staying.

So why do we do it? Why do I hold on thinking, hoping, that they will love me as me, that they will support me, that they will be happy for me, that they will stop being emtional vaccumns, that they will start caring for themselves, that they will be kind, that they will live loving lives?
I'm tired of holding my breath waiting for that to happen.

2006-03-07T00:52:00.000-05:00

Why I love Duke City Fix and Chantal Foster.

http://www.dukecityfix.com/index.php?itemid=1539

Check out the images from her urban hike in my beloved city. The link is at the bottom of her post.

2006-03-06T23:29:00.000-05:00

Writer's Block and Making a Habit Out of Writing

Every so often I get jammed up. Regardless of deadline there are times when I'm convinced that I don't know what I'm doing, that everything I'm working on is totally worthless. I spend days working on a project and the result is three tight pages of junk. I had one of these jammed up episodes last week. Three days resulted in three pages of crap revision. A most esteemd friend asked me if I get writer's block and said that she thought it was really mostly American's that suffer from it. Here is my response.

About writers blocks, or really any kind of blocks in creative processes, I think Americans suffer from it (though I think people around the world do suffer from it and call it something else, or why did Van Gogh slice off his ear?) because the chronic pressure to be number one is distinctly American. Even when you aren't yet competeing in a world market, it's still you against yourself and the pressure is similar. The mantra is I'm not getting anywhere, this isn't improving, I'm going to make this worse. I got over my block this week by slicing and dicing my revision draft then begining again on a blank page, recreating and in effect, writing an entirely new story based on the bones of the original. One that works better, thankfully. The irony is also the ego saying I don't really need to start over, when your head knows that you do. But seriously, all creative people have blocks. It's an ego thing to say that you don't suffer from down periods, though I would agree that people in other places in the world may view that down time as part of the natural process rather than an indicator that one has failed or is failing at something.

Earlier today, at coffee with another esteemed friend, we discussed writer's block as well as the sort of "magic" that happens when the writing is good. We talked about how to cultivate more of those magic moments. She said those moments when it all falls into place and gives you that zing are few and far between, maybe one or two a year. A couple of years ago, I would have agreed. After working on a story a week for two years, I think the number of magic moments directly correlates to how much work you're doing. Then we talked about cultivating the habit of writing, how every author that gives a reading is always asked the obligatory, what's your process, question. Each writer has their own unique processes, however one thing that nearly every writer asserts is that you must write everyday. I told my friend I write for two hours everyday not for school. Sometimes I blog, sometimes I write ideas or sketches for stories, but none conneted to a deadline. Freeing myself up from deadline writing for my habitual writing allowed me to be relaxed in my writing, to let it come to me without sanitizing too much too early as I often do in my deadline writing. In my effort to make a habit of writing, I had to rethink what it means to dedicate time to only that task without the pressure of accomplishing something specific. This esteemed friend had also been struggling with identifying and locating that mystical something that will develop into the habit of writing. I said it's not so much a mystery as something that you need to do. The writers are right, you have to write every day, that's it. So I told her about Steph's dissertation support group, how they've established a buddy system to keep them on their writing tasks. They call each other and inquire how the writing is going, they say, have you written for two hours today? I made a pact with my friend to drop nagging e-mails. We've been told recently that as writers we are on our own. But we disagree. Writer's have been workshopping, communing, encouraging, and challenging each other forever. So that's our plan, as part of this community of writers, to inquire, encourage, and cajole in our efforts to make writing habitual.

2006-03-04T01:04:00.000-05:00

What's on my desktop.

Some must see peep linkage.

www.peepresearch.org

www.marshmallowpeeps.com

www.badcasserole.com/peeps

http://www.millikin.edu/staley/fluff/peep_research.html

Really, please don't ask me. Just enjoy the peepdom.

http://peep.peril.org

2006-03-02T10:19:00.000-05:00

I didn't want to write about Brokeback Mountain but recent turn of events have changed my mind. First and foremost is the Award buzz and the media stirred competition with the movie Crash. Second was the quick assimilation of Brokeback Mountain into a homophobic slur. Third was an e-mail from a friend.

So Steph pointed out the stir about BM vs Crash. That on entertainment source intimated that BM might get Crashed at the Awards. We both thought they could do better than that. But what followed was a discussion we had about why these two movies, who would likely come out on top and why. If BM wins what does that mean. If Crash wins what does that mean. What does it mean that the media has created a battle between to topics that make Americans squirm...gay love and racism. What will it mean for one to come out on top of the other. Both films are films of merit. But who will we love enough to award. I told Steph that I thought Crash was interesting in that we keep getting the message that racism doesn't exist like that in America any more. Most of my friends, even those who know better where still shocked by the movie. When I talk to young people they speak about racism as though it were a product of a past and not at all a part of their present or future. I wondered if the public would be more receptive to a Crash win because racism is something they can get their heads around more so than gay cowboys. There are a lot more factors involved in who wins or why, but as an outsider to the process I wonder if the same will hold out for the men that held out for the women, Monster and Boys Don't Cry providing Oscar wins for leading straight actresses playing gay or transgender characters. The same seems true for Felicity Huffman's success in Transamerica, so I wonder if BM will do the same for it's male stars. I'm not passing judgement on these films or their actors as each one was not only a breakthrough role but a film that needed to be out there.

Via e-mail, Steph also lead me to the use of Brokeback Mountain as a slur against an opponent at a basketball game. Then we started hearing it on the street, then last night she caught part of an episode of Gilmore Girls, a show she loves for the prickly and funny mother daughter relationships, in which BM was used in that way. She was more dismayed by its usage in that context because a woman wrote the episode. My inbox was filled with funny and campy jokes, scenes, mini movies using BM as ha ha fodder, all of it disconcerting. I found myself laughing at Brokeback to the Future....a short film depicting love between the Michael J. Fox character and Doc. using clips from the movie and nothing more. It wasn't judgemental or offensive and I found it well done considering it was pieced together from parts of the back to the future movies, but that doesn't make it right and the laughter left me feeling like a hypocrit. I did wonder if I were being overly sensitive, but for me, homophobia rears it's ugly head in unexpected places, from being outright ignored to being shouted at. I would rather someone shout at me from the street than to deal with it subtly in the subtext of jokes sent from friends.

Smart men who, when around other smart men, posture and joke about BM disappoint me the most. My friend W. e-mailed about this phenomenon referring to her intelligent husband and his friends/our equally smart peers, and Steph and I took the discussion to more friends to get some feedback.

This is W's post and responses to it, followed by Jenny's two cents.

you know, i read something the other day online ( i think on yahoo news) about how "brokeback" has become this big joke---it's everywhere. late night TV, in the classroom, etc. b., j. and b. have this continuing joke about it and b. and i have talked about why it's not funny, but he doesn't understand. still, it's (the jokes) still there. i think donna hit the nail on the head when she said something about "gay, male, and mainstream". i mean, there's a certain level of, i don't know what the word is here...familiarity with lesbians (stunning, thin, sexually promiscuous, threesome-loving, etc.) and effeminate, flamboyant gay men...but the way this film is marketed as a love story and people are going to see it, men are having to face "masculine" (in quotes for a reason...i know that's a loaded word) men as gay men, which unfortunately, a lot of them don't have the frame of reference to even . the whole metrosexual trend and gay men like "queer eye" or "will and grace", i think, made it okay for men to be gay if they "acted" gay. but brokeback isn't about men who "act" gay in the sense that gay men have been marketed. does that make sense? i don't know if any of this makes sense. what i do know is that watching brian attempting to negotiate the popularity of brokeback vs. what he sees as a "gay" man through the mainstream media that has been out there (flawed conception or not) has been interesting. i'm not sure if i'm making any sense here and i feel a little self-conscious about trying to explain this. okay, now j. and i are talking abou this. i'll have to get back to you more.

my response,

Yes, definitely a sad trend. I've seen it in a couple of other places as well. It's the backlash we can expect from anything gay, male, and mainstream. That's too bad. And the irony is that it's in places like late night t.v., and prime time shows like Gilmore Girls, all a the same time students were busted for shouting Brokback Mountain at opposing players. Childish and homophobic.

Steph's response,

So, last night I watched fifteen minutes of Glimore Girls - a show I used to watch and love because of the conflict between Lorelei and her mother. I haven't watched it in awhile, but I was setting the VCR for another show, and I was curious. Rorie's friend, Lane, (think some of you watch this show still) was in a band but, apparently, they broke up. I don't know why, but there seemed to be some tension between Lane and one of the boys - maybe they were dating or something. In one scene, Lane (who now works for Luke) is shown making a flyer to advertise herself. She tells Lorelei that she misses being a musician. Then, they show Lane hanging the flyer in a bookstore? or coffee shop? and this guy (perhaps one of the old band members who she dated) stops what he is doing and tears the flyer down. Later, this same man is shown at a concert with a bunch of middle school kids. He watches the band on stage perform and when they take a break, he tries to talk to them about getting back together. I am getting to the punch line and my concern soon, really. So, he says to these guys, "I miss you" and "we should get back together." There is a pause, then he qualifies himself (though, did he really need to - cause I had no doubts) - by saying, "I'm not getting Broke Back Mountain on you." So, is it just me or does this seem cliche already? Isn't it just a bad replacement for what kids used to say - "You're so gay!!!" Like I said, I used to think the show was smart, but I turned it off - hence, the reason I only saw 15 minutes. What a disappointment!

my other response,

That's totally it W. There isn't anything out there that represents queer folk across the board. Lesbians are now either boyishly beautiful or beauty queen beautiful, but we know that is a tiny fraction of our population. And it's the same for gay men. Now the idea is that the flamboyant queer is a mostly harmless girly-man (to use Governor Terminator's terminology.) The idea south of the boarder is that you aren't even gay if you're the top...i.e. the guy who penetrates, the bottom is the only one of the pair that is considered gay. So the fact that neither of these characters was effeminate is creating this chain reaction of not me-ism. Like somehow our normally intelligent men out there need to prove something, not just to society but to themselves I think. It's a lot of silly posturing to which I would like to say, loudly, the more they carry on about it, the more it seems very curious to me, their reactions. If you're not gay, you're not, if you are, you are, and if you come down somewhere in the middle,well ok. But this is just a movie. And rather than understand the heartbreak and the homophobia they are making it about them. This isn't about you, guys. It's a story. Get the hell over it. I know that dyke and queer and fag are off limits for them as p.c. insults, but by using Brokeback Mountain in this way, they may as well just say dyke, fag, queer.

Jenny's response to the scenario,

Re: Brokeback Mountain. Nothing makes seemingly nice straight men look like assholes faster than talking about man love. Their lives are so tied up in the erratic behaviors of their renegade cocks that the performance of their brains and their hearts is greatly impaired. They're mostly terrified of having to be gay, and the more "enlightened" ones feel like making a few jokes and then saying "not that there's anything wrong with that" is safer than saying that they loved Brokeback Mtn. Bottom line: pretty much everyone thinks cowboy man love is hot. You deserve to be pissed about the jokes--they piss me off.

I couldn't say it better myself. So now I've posted the Brokeback Mountain post that I was not going to write. Now it's your turn. This isn't about the movie as much as the adaptation of the movie title as a homophobic slur. Your thoughts? Other examples?

2006-02-26T23:31:00.000-05:00

Friendly Advice

Ok, so I'm one of those people who likes to give advice. Sometimes people ask for it. More often than not I will just jump in with my two cents. I was thinking about this in the shower the other day. Thinking how often I tell my friends how important solitude can be. They like to hold Steph and I up as models for longevity, and maybe for a couple of people who are working out despite what would seem like obvious clashes of personality. Most of the time these friends are in and out of a variety of relationships from staid to down right harmful. And I think if only so and so had a chance to have a little autonomy, just a little space and time alone. I think this because alone time is how I knew myself, just me, not me and somebody else.

The problem is that when we're single, we're social like dogs. We like the company. We'd take companionship from the gleaming golden retriever or the flea ridden hyena, company is company. I know from experience once you've found 'the one' you're social like cats. Like a pair of bonded cats, you find a cozy corner to curl up in and the two are company enough for each other. Now that I am living thousands of miles from Steph, I'm living single again. And while I am still bonded to her and not looking for anyone else, I don't enjoy being alone. Thankfully I have plenty of peers here to hang out with. So I was standing in the shower thinking how ironic it is for me to preach the benefits of solitude to my relationship challenged friends when I can hardly stand to be alone.

That said, I stand by the necessity of solitude. How many times I have watched them extend a one night stand into a six month relationship. I've watched them get together over the course of a year and end in a three year break up. I say to them, sometimes sex is just sex. Sometimes we hook up out of loneliness, stay together out of fear, stay too long out of laziness. They all deny this and then invite the girl from the bar into their bed. In many ways I don't understand this behavior. I chalk this up to a couple of years of living single with no committed relationship. Sex can just be sex. A one night stand, if communicated as such, can fit the bill. And you know when you make that invitation to stay it's the wrong move. I used to love being single. I liked eating alone. I liked going to the movies alone. I liked having my own apartment. No one to share the bathroom with, no one to wait on, no dual decisions. But since being in my relationship with Steph, I find it hard to be so far away and so alone. I know what I'm going home to after I graduate and that's something to look forward to.

In the mean time, I will continue to lecture my friends, albeit with a bit more consideration and understanding. Afterall, it was easy to say they need to stop screwing around and take the time to get to know themselves outside a relationship, when I was safetly tucked into mine. The world can be a lonely place. That said, there are always bits of light shining encouragement and love. Your friends, that person out there in the world waiting to find you, your family. When I was first alone and afraid, overseas and as far from everything I knew as possible, I looked to the sky, to the stars. If I could find Orion's belt or the big dipper I was never alone. I knew my mother could see it from the back yard, my friends could see it from their dorm windows, and somewhere out there, the love I was waiting for could see it too.

2006-02-17T14:40:00.000-05:00

Sad coverage of the Olympics:
Was silver ever good enough for the U.S.?

Being fifth in the world just makes you a huge loser if you're Johnny Weir and are expected to win at least a silver medal. Before the short program we saw the flamboyant uber gay Johnny being Johnny, irreverant, extravagant, excellent. And after his short program, begrudging praise from the commentators. When the other U.S. skater took the ice in black pants and somber/elegant gray shirt, they praised his appearance to high heaven, his look is what American male figure skating should be, he should be our poster child. They might as well have said, Johnny Weir is too gay and too flamboyant for us. And when he struggled through his long program finishing fifth rather than the expected second place, they panned him with glee....his attitude got the best of him...that's what you get for being so freakin gay. I say, you go Johnny. You didn't have the best night, but you are still an Olympian.

Coverage built up Bode Miller and the inline skater gone speed skating Texan, Hedrick similarly and like Weir, Miller was too eagerly panned. He was reported as someone who has thrown away his talent for too many brewskies. It's not enough that he's the first American skiier in a really long time to hold the title world champion. It wasn't enough that the big Texan won his first event. The real news was how he will be unable to claim five gold medals after not medaling in the relay.

How is it that the Olympic coverage has turned in nasty commentary after nasty commentary. Lindsay Jacobellis won silver instead of gold for attempting a last grab and falling before crossing the snowboardcross finish line...suddenly she's a show off who failed. But I know for a fact, had she made the grab and finished with gold she would be heralded as someone who was willing to go big or go home. She would be a hero.

I have been turned off by the win at all cost, it's gold or go home attitude of Olympic coverage. It diminishes the athletes and their herculean efforts to excel at their sports, to push boundries. After watching our top women's downhiller, Lindsey Kildow fall horribly in a training run and listening to the post race commentary completely unsatisfied with her fifth place finish, I was stunned. I was amazed that she was even walking, let alone skiing, let alone competeing in the Olympic downhill. There is something really wrong about that.

I remember watching the Olympics as a kid. I didn't know anything about most of these events, but with great coverage about each event and with competitor bios, this kid from Indiana got to know downhill, super g, luge, and more. I miss the excitement I have felt for Winter Olypmics past. And it's not the faut of the athletes trying to do their best, and it's not the fault of the host city. It's the fault of the media, sucking the life out of what should be amazing and celebratory events. May the coverage next time around be in the spirit of the Olympics rather than in the spirit of the tabloids.

2006-02-14T18:23:00.000-05:00

Steph's third trip on the city bus.

Hi all, being back on the bus - after last week - helps one keep things in perspective... people with road rage look ridiculous...especially after overhearing a seasoned bus rider talk about how it feels to be left waiting for the next bus after running and getting to the door only to have the bus drive off. The really interesting story (though I admit being a little frustrated and the thought of spending more money to get the car running is "tragic" to me) isn't about me... it is the woman who let me sit next to her. She started to talk to the woman in front of her, who had a little girl in yellow on her lap. The little girl will be two in April - the woman I was sitting next to is pregnant with her ninth child - the woman who had the little yellow girl is pregnant with her second child (also a girl) and she had a black eye, which I wouldn't have noticed (because I probably wouldn't have looked at her face) if the woman next to me hadn't asked "what happened to your eye" - there was a knowing look between the women (both Hispanic) and then a stream of advice from the woman next to me to the younger woman about how not to put up with her boyfriend's shit and abuse. Nine children!!!??? Getting off the bus at central and girard (I could have stayed on to Yale, but didn't), I ran into my old FLC partner, John Gates - he has a law degree and he's riding the bus? What's up with that? Well, he's Native...that probably has a lot to do with him riding the bus instead of driving a Lexus. How much does a carton of milk weigh? It's a good thing I only live a block away from Smith's. Here's hoping to put an end to the bus chronicles soon, but wouldn't it be interesting in a women's studies class to make the students ride the central street bus and listen to the regulars and write a paper? Later, Steph

Donna weighing in now.

Experiences like these are the reason I never want to leave the city. It's not that I want to be sitting on a smelly bus full of strangers. But when every kind of person is on the bus, it's impossible to forget about homlessness, abuse, addictions. If you aren't living all that, or seeing it up close and personal, then those big societal issues are more abstract. Once in awhile, it's good to be in the thick of it, to never think about "people like that" but to think about people, period. To think about a mother, with nine children, who is full of advice on how not to be a victim of abuse, in a heavily Catholic state, to think about how much a gallon of milk weighs everytime I see someone young or old carrying their groceries on the bus, these aren't abstractions, they're realities. They're OUR realities. A car breaking down gives us a chance to see and experience what we can't when we are safe behind the wheel listening to the radio, sipping our Starbucks. As someone who doesn't drive and who has taken the bus frequently, I like feeling connected to that thread, I like overhearing conversations, wondering what their stories are, knowing I'm part of someone else's story. There's that girl again, I wonder why she's on the bus. Riding the bus is invigorating. And yes, I have had my share of horror stories, fights, vomit in the seat, piss in the seat, etc. But I've also never been more aware of being part of a community. Yay Steph for once again braving the bus.

2006-02-12T01:18:00.000-05:00

Thoughts on dealership screw overs, Italian roast beef sandwiches, and Bob Costas

First, this isn't the only time we've suspected something funny happened at the dealership. The first time it was our Hundai dealership...they lost a spacer and put a belt on backward...don't ask me how. This time it was mysterious water affecting the car right after scheduled maintanence and a half a dozen things we didn't need to worry about. Shisters all of them. Not sure if I spelled that little diddy right...but there you go. Once you're car is paid off, high tail it to a private mechanic you can trust.

I'm happy we've found someone, and thankful to Whitney, and her family for introducing us to this man, a friend of her dad's. It's unfortunate that, as women, the only way to be treated fairly in this situation is to have the spector of a man behind you...in this case, Whit's dad, though now that we've met our new mechanic, it is quite possible that he would have been respectful and honest from the get go, even without our hook up.

Equally unfortunate for the American Toyota people, we are looking to upgrade our wonderful Corolla in the next year or two and they will not be getting our dough.

Went to Fresh Market with Y.T. and found this delightful Italian roast beef. They sliced it paper thin and the flavor is zesty and robust without over doing it.

Ok, is it just me, or is Bob Costas' hair unnaturally dark and does he or does he not have enormous nostrels...I may have just caught an unfortunate viewing angle. Also, he has a very smooth nose...like it may be the texture of well worked silly putty.

I caught some women's hockey, impressive! Our speed skating Texan, also impressive. All in all, a relaxing day of Olympic viewing, peppered with some reading and writing.

2006-02-11T14:27:00.000-05:00

Steph's adventure on the city bus as posted by her to my e-mail...

Well, I am not really sure how much of an adventure it was - since I really didn't run into any crazy or drunk people. There may have been drunk people on the bus, but they weren't near me or I was so focused on not missing my stop (and what do you touch to let the driver know you want to get off?) that I missed it.

A brief update of events. My car had some service by the dealership (American Toyota) last Sat. This was for regular maintanence. Of course, it was expensive, several hundred dollars, and they recommended that I fix a bunch of other things - $1500 worth additional things that I should do right away. "I declined" - that's what my receipt said. Then, curiously (or not curiously) my check engine light came on a few days later, and the car started to shake and it died on me during 5 o'clock traffic three times. It's a Toyota people. I parked it and got a rental car from the airport. And I made an appointment with Whitney's mechanic (a >friend of her families).

My appointment with Bob Raught was on Friday morning so I called AAA and they towed me from my house to the mechanic (because by Friday my car wouldn't start at all). Why is that we always assume the tow truck operator will be a guy and why is it always true. I found myself outside (freezing) thinking "wouldn't it be cool if I was wrong and the tow truck person was a woman?" But it wasn't. He was nice and we managed to get my car dropped off. I went home and waited and Ken, the guy working on the car, called and said it was my #2 and #3 >cylinders, that things had gotten wet. He also gave it a tune-up, but curiously they did not agree with American Toyota about fixing the other things. FUNNY HUH? Even funnier that somehow that stuff got wet, in Albuquerque, where we have had zero rain. But, alas, the car was ready at 3:30 p.m. and here I had this rental car and Aggie was having lunch with her mom and had to work at 5 p.m. And Whitney was with her parents and I couldn't bug them. So, I got brave and called the bus station to figure out how to get from my house to the mechanic.

It was pretty easy, but I was still a little unsure because I haven't had to ride the bus here. But I knew from Donna's experience that at various times of the day and depending on which route you ride - you can have a bunch of old people or a bunch of drunk people or a bunch of smelly people or a combination of all those factors. I called for advice and Donna said "sit on the outside, check the seat for urine or vomit, and wash your hand afterwards. You're going to hate it." She was having lunch with Yim Tan and so I walked to the Frontier. I got on there (and my heart was beating a little harder than usual), and the bus was crowded and stinky - but this nice little boy let me sit next to him and I got off at San Mateo. I crossed the street and waited for the next bus, and it was not crowded or stinky at all. But I am pretty sure I annoyed the bus driver when I said "I don't know what to do with this (my transfer ticket)?" She said "keep it" - really blunt. Okay, I got my car and dropped it off at home. Then, I dropped the rental car off and rode the shuttle to the airport. I had planned to take a cab, but that costs $10 and I am cheap. I found the bus stop (cause I was no longer a virgin - after >all), and I waited fifteen minutes and for $1 (I probably could have >used my transfer ticket but I didn't know you could use it more than once - I still have some learning to do) I got dropped off at the Smith's a block away from my house. I saved some money on the rental car by dropping it off early, and the airport bus was pretty empty and new. I think when I go to DC in May to get Donna (and I will travelling light) I will take the bus to airport and leave my car here. I am feeling pretty brave now that I took the plunge and rode the bus. All those Donna Sue horror stories are probably true, but I would have to ride the bus a whole lot more to find out exactly what she means (and I truly have no intention of doing that as long as my car is running - except in May).

Here's hoping you all enjoyed my adventure.

2006-02-08T20:12:00.000-05:00

Insane Friends, Their Totally Cute Pets, and Poo!

from Jillian sent to me in an e-mail:

It's little June!

<--------And Little June's
very very big
Poo!

2006-02-08T15:13:00.000-05:00

Clean fish bowls =
happy fish!

This beautiful betta is the spitting image of
Irving Simone! Both of my guys got their bowls cleaned up today and they are such happy fish. With one gallon bowls, I have to fully clean their bowls twice a week. I don't wait until it's cloudy or funky looking. And really, even the cleaning and refreshing of the bowls are theraputic, because I know when they get back in all that fresh clean water, they get all blissed out and look so beautiful swimming and blowing new bubble nests.

2006-02-07T22:35:00.000-05:00

Dylan Jay Perry

My beautiful nephew who I miss like crazy. I can't get over how tall he is already. I'm going to see him in May and I can't wait to get my hands on those cheeks! What a little heartbreaker...Mr. Big Blue Eyes and Wavy dark hair. Love this kid!

2006-02-06T14:11:00.000-05:00

The Super Bowl, Getting Sick AGAIN,
and How You Know You Have Good Friends

For weeks people asked me who I was rooting for in the Super Bowl. Now I have teams that I must root for handed down to me from childhood, teams that continue to disappoint. You know who you are Colts and Bears. That said, I love watching college ball, and I tend to be more excited for individual players, like Mike Alstott who I watched play at Purdue and who is now with Tampa Bay. I know, I know, these guys weren't in the Super Bowl! So, here's the breakdown. I was excited for Seattle, a team that, I think, often gets over looked. I was also excited for Bill Cower and the Steelers. He hasn't won the big game. And they have The Bus, Jerome Bettis, and Troy Polomalu, one player on the eve of possible retirement and the other a site to see on the field. I hoped for an exciting game, and I didn't get it. Sadly, poor officiating tipped the game in Pittsburg's favor. Something I never want to see, officials so present in the game of all games. That said, I was happy for Pittsburg who had an amazing run, playing all their play off games on the road. They won the trophy the hard way and that's something. I was more enamored when the game was over and I watched Bill Cower cry and hug his wife and daughters, and when The Bus stood up on that stage of all stages, holding the trophy of all trophies and announced his retirement. He won the biggest game of his life in front of his home town Detroit. The guy couldn't ask for more than that.

I'm sick! If Steph reads this she will be laughing right now, as it is our want to announce it, shout it even when we know we're going to spend a day on the couch being brought ice chips and cookies. Sadly, I am alone, so no ice chips and cookies for me. I was sick when I left for winter break, I was sick when I left to come back. And now I'm sick again! All three times, different symptoms, etc. I need to look into something to boost my immune system or something. Cause this is just crazy. So I thought my fever was down, just took it...back to 99.7 and I started with whistling in my chest which I assumed was an asthmatic reaction to some flowers I had in the room. Now I have no whistle, but a nice deep bronchial cough. Yay me!

On a lighter note, my friend Jillian called to see how I was doing and last night at, I don't know what time, and brought me expectorant, a thermometer, two different kinds of tea, a hand made lotion infused with peppermint, and a rainbowswirl pencil with a butterfly eraser. How cool is that! Weee! I have friends!

2006-02-05T09:57:00.000-05:00

Why is it that when you bite the inside of your mouth, you continue to bite that same spot? After awile, it gets all swollen and firm and you bite it and it's like chewing Juicy Fruit. (a little shout out to Juicy Fruiter!) (Ha! I said shout out!) Anyway, I had a hard time shutting down last night, talked poor Steph to sleep! I had a fun time with Eleanor and her friend Gene, who is tre cute (yes I know I spell that little diddy wrong!) And with Jenny and Lizzie and Bonnie who are all so much fun to be around. So we ate Thai food, and shut the restaurant down. (not hard to do in Roanoke!) We were pretty loud, as we always are when we get together. Then we went to Mill Mountain Coffee and pretty much drank coffee and laughed loudly until they closed as well. So I got home, talked to my Stephanie then tried to go to sleep. No luck, then finally, I drift off only to wake myself up by biting the crap out of my cheek, and of course I bit it again a number of times until biting it was almost pleasant, soothing. I drifted off lightly gnawing on my own flesh. I woke up surprised to still have any cheek left.

smooch!

2006-02-05T02:11:00.000-05:00

Back to Dodson's Question and a Fish Update

So, my professor wants me to answer, what have you learned in life.

I started with my realization that the statement, that's just the way it is, and it's various forms, are unnecessarily limiting as well as having no real meaning.

Now I consider this...to gossip or not to gossip.
I have learned not to be a gossip, and to not accept gossip. I like knowing things about people, but it is far more interesting and enriching when it comes from the source. Also, I'm a storyteller, a born gossip really, and I am prone to exaggeration and plainly making things up. The down side is that not all gossip is benign storytelling, entertainment for the masses. Gossip hurts. It damages relationships and it isolates the teller and the receiver. I make my storytelling straight now, and the funny thing is that the stories unembellished are much more fun and leave no residue of untruthfullness. Yes, I hesitate saying the word lie. I think lying is one of the worst things you can do, but more importantly, lying makes me feel bad. Writing fiction, you would think me a champion liar, and it's true, I could probably spin you a story about anything and you would buy it. That's the joy about writing fiction, creating narratives without the aftertaste. Since giving up gossip, and believe me, for some of us chronic storytellers, it might be helpful to have a twelve step program to assist us in quiting such a nasty habit, I feel free and clear. I can enjoy my friends, tell whopping good stories with minimal embellishment (come on, I'm a fiction writer!) and not taint or be tainted by the negativity that gossiping carries and spreads like the disease it is.

That is all for now on that. Now on to the fish report.

So you know that I have two awesome betta fish Bernard and Irving and that they're gay and French. What you don't know is that they have middle names. Bernard Gustavo and Irving Simone. My fish think themselves very sexy. They live in stylish bachelor pads with silk plants to hide in and rainbow colored glass "rock" and gravel. I had a fright the other morning and thought, sadly, that Bernard was belly up. He was proped up in his silk plant, but on his side and not moving. I was certain he was dead. I bemoaned the recent tank change, maybe I put him back in too soon, maybe I feed him too much, maybe he got too cold (bettas are tropical fish). But no, my crack pot fish likes to sleep on his side. Not kidding. I looked this up and apparently many bettas like to sleep on their sides. I touched the silk plant and of course he darted away then came back and stared at me like WTF, can't you see I was sleeping? I am making drawings of my cool guys in their hot digs. They are charming and a very calming influence.

2006-02-03T17:35:00.000-05:00

The Ups and Downs of Pet Ownership

So two posts ago I told you guys about my friends new pet rats Delilah and June. Like their first two pet rats Daisy and Effie, they were Petsmart rats, and like Daisy and Effie, once they took them home, they had to rush them off to the vet for respiratory problems. Sadly they lost Delilah to bronchial infection after one day. June is recovering. Consider this people. The rats are relatively inexpensive by themselves. But the vet bills for each rat are as much as it costs me to take my cats to the vet. They are lucky in that they have a great vet who is interested in their rats and treats them well. They are unlucky in that Petsmart sucks ass and sells rats who, while in their lame ass care, get terribly sick.

Since getting my two bettas, one rescued from certain doom at Walmart (several dead bettas in crap filled cups) and the other from dreaded Petsmart. I've read about how chain stores keep these great little fish. And now my friends are saddened by the death of little Delilah. An unnecessary death as it is people who create these situations, people who are responsible for small pet care and chain stores who are responsible for treating small pets like disposable things rather than living, breathing, feeling, entities totally dependent on our care.

To read a beautiful eulogy to a sweet little pet rat, check out Jillian's blog, It Is the Cause, in my links section.

2006-02-03T01:00:00.000-05:00

First day of school! First day of school!

So today was Jim Dodson's Writing a Life.
We are to think of our lives in mythic terms through observation, reflection and research.
There is no objective observer. Everything we think about or comment on gets filtered through our experiences. This is not unfamiliar to me. Read Ruth Behar's The Vulnerable Observer.

He gave us an assignment and I am going to attempt to do it right here, right now.
Since what we learn informs what we know, he want's us to answer this:
What have you learned in your life thus far?

I may continue to write on this the next couple of days until the assignment is finished.

The first thing I thought of was how accessible the world is. When I was growing up, I always wanted to see what was out there. I did a lot of reading and could imagine the world. But I could not imagine myself out there in it. I didn't drive, my parents were divorced and poor and slightly nuts. When I joined the Navy I realized that the world is out there and is accessible. We make choices all the time, safe choices because it's easier sometimes to stay where we are, stay within the relm of, that's just the way it is. For me, once I traveled alone to other countries, my first real solo experience to Germany is when it hit me, I realized that language didn't need to be a barrier. After I got back I moved out of the barracks and to the town of Motta Santa Anastasia and negotiated rent, groceries and a life in Sicily. When I decided to take a weeks vacation to Rome before getting out of the service and returning to the States, I saved and I made it happen, so suddenly, money didn't have to be a barrier. It made me think about all the things I had wanted to try, places I had wanted to go to, that I didn't because I didn't think I could. This knowledge transformed my life. I recently blogged about buying a painting. A risky purchase, something almost out of my reach. I did it because the only things holding me back are the limits I set for myself. I know that we need limitations, that sometimes it's good to wait, to be patient, even to think about what other people need, but I don't make decisions based on my old way of thinking. It changed my political philosophies, it changed my relationships with people in my life, it changed my decision making process. That's just the way things are isn't a good enough reason for anything.

2006-02-02T01:38:00.000-05:00

Rats!

Ok, so you know that I went a little fish crazy. What you don't know is that I have two friends (an engaged couple) who have pet rats. They have two nearly adult rats, Effie and Daisy (brownish gray with white belly and dark eyes, and white with pink eyes.) Today, when I was picking out Irving, they bought two more rats, special blue rats (soft grey in color, dark eyes, pink ears and tails) Delilah and June. They are totally smart and cuddly and fun to watch. Their rats live in amazing rat condos and my friends love nothing more than to build fun new habitats for them to explore or have their girls hanging out with them in a pocket, sleeve, nestled on a shoulder for a night of movie watching.

2006-02-01T21:16:00.000-05:00

Ok, so bettas are like chips, you can't have just one. So I have Bernard, the red and turquoise one, and now I have Irving, dark blue-ish purple with a tiny bit of red. Two fish could not be more different. Bernard is kind of a scardy fish and Irving is really outgoing. Irving is bigger and has larger fins. Both are quite beautiful and fun to watch. I have them in one gallon bowls. They seem to really like being out of the cups they were kept in. They're my first fish, so we'll see how it goes.

2006-02-01T00:40:00.000-05:00

So after writing and drinking lattes at Starbucks, I went to dreaded Walmart (I don't remember what I was going there for.) I was browsing when I saw the betta fish, half of them dead. I was pretty sickened at that. So I took the smallest living one (youngest?) bought him the biggest bowl they had and some accessories and some food and brought him home. I have called him Bernard the First. (the first just in case he dies and I have to run out and get Bernard the Second.) So far so good. He loves his new dwelling and the tastey morsels I bought him. His bowl is like ten times bigger than the cup he was living in! I know they originally lived in puddles, but I think Bernard deserved better than a teeny cup next to four dead siblings.

He looks kind of like this fish, red with teal markings.

Wee! A fish for me!

2006-01-31T18:04:00.000-05:00

So, I'm at Starbucks in Roanoke. I took a cab to get here, ten dollars each way. Then I paid another ten bucks for access to the t-mobile hot spot. All of this to get away from my cramped and isolated living quarters. I'm like ten miles away from everything except school. Grrrrr. But I'm here and they are opened until 11pm. And I will be here closing the joint down. I need to get back to writing, so this will be brief.

Thing 1: I got this mossimo sweatshirt from target in this crazy green color. I love it so much that I may wear it every day for the rest of this semster, like a lucky shirt.

Thing 2: I have another coming in chocolate brown.

Thing 3: In addition to the cinnamon dulce latte that I'm downing, I decided to try the reduced fat coffee cake. I didn't get it because it's reduced fat. That's just ridiculous. But happily, it is quite tasty!

Thing 4: I should have went to Logan's first for one of their petite sirloins and salad before setting up here. Now that I'm here, I certainly don't feel like packing up and walking down the street for dinner.

Thing 5: There are no more things. I must get to work so stop distracting me. I mean it!

2006-01-30T15:00:00.001-05:00

Only @ Hollins

Ok, so most of you know that I'm back at Hollins for the last semester of my MFA. What you may not know is that Hollins, while a co-ed grad program, is an all girl undergrad. This all girl undergrad scenario produces the gammut of weirdness from 4 year lesbianitist to lonely private school girls so desperate for human contact that they will, and did, plop down next to a complete stranger and proceed to infiltrate conversation.

This is what happened to me this morning.
First: got up at 8 to meet Eleanor and her friend Gene for breakfast on campus (I know, those of you who know me are like wtf, she got up at 8...a.m.?)
Second: having a fine time chatting/catching up when out of the blue some young girl says to me, can you move your stuff?
Third: I move my bag off the chair and she sits and proceeds to chat us up, strangely, sounding robotic, like she's some kind of Connecticut atomaton fresh out of a private all girl's high school.
It was pretty clear, after a second, that neither Eleanor nor I knew this girl. Fucking freak. Seriously.

On to more fun musings.
Last night we celebrated Chinese New Year with Yim Tan. She cooked amazing dishes and we stuffed ourselves then watched Grey's Anatomy. tre tre fun!

2006-01-28T22:20:00.000-05:00

Friends, Rats, and the Matador

I hung out with Jillian and Cortney today. After a Target run, we hung out on their balcony with their pet rats Effie and Daisy. Rats are so cool, smart, funny, cuddly. Yes, I let them crawl on me. We fed them yogurt drops and tried to get them to play in their new toy, an expandable tunnel. Daisy tried it out, but Effie wasn't so sure about it. Hee! Pets!

Afterward we decided to go see the Matador.
Ok, it was the best movie I've seen this year. So fun and smart. Pierce Brosnan is amazing in this. His performance was unexpected. He does comedy so well. Great cast, and chemistry. Every time I thought I knew what was going to happen, they surprised me.
I loved the music too. Going to look for the soundtrack next time I'm out.

People, go see this movie.

2006-01-27T23:18:00.000-05:00

Back in Roanoke

So I'm back, not happily. Whenever I get out here I think, for the first few days anyway, I am in a kind of shock. No Steph, no dog, no cats, no ABQ friends. You would think after two years of bouncing back and forth trying to make it through this MFA I would be completely over this post break funk.

I think, and you may think this strange, because we were both really sick before I came back, and both did a lot of extra caretaking of each other, right now, I miss Steph so much. I know couples all over the place make the same decision for a job or for school or whatever, to live seperately. But if I'm going to be honest, and really, it's my blog, so why lie, I want nothing more than to get back to my life with her. I want to cook for her and make the house all nice the way we like it, I can't wait to get back and garden in our new yard and patio.

I talked up this last trip out here for school, telling myself it will be strictly a time to work, to have killer focus. Time will tell how that works out. I also kept thinking about time, Feb. is a short month, then there's March and April, then about a week of May and it's finished. On one hand I think that's not nearly enough time to finish, on the other, thank goodness this living apart thing is almost over.

Never again, people, we will never do this again.

2006-01-25T18:22:00.000-05:00

Dreaded Stomach Flu

Six days total, that's how long it took us to recover, three for me, three for Steph. I will skip all of the gory details, and people, there are many. Let me just say that I have NEVER been that sick in my life and happily, today, I'm back on solid food (somewhat.)

So we took Chloe to Old Town just in time to enjoy the fleeting but amazing and HUGE snowflakes that fell for about thirty minutes. That poor patient dog, she was stuck inside for days while we were sick, trotting from me to Steph, then back again like a worried nurse. The cats also, surprisingly, were on their best behavior. So at Old Town, I had a chance to take a last look at our painting and say good by to some of our fav. people there before I head back to school. Chloe had a ball and consumed many treats on her walk, some handed out by shop owners, some scarfed from the grass, mulch, or dirt, small bits of chicken, random dead something or other, the whole world is just one giant buffet to her.

I fly out on Friday, and since the flu sucked away six perfectly good days of our break, I feel cheated and not at all ready to go. We had plans, adventures, hopes, dreams, all dashed thanks to some sick slob slathering their germs around. All I have to say about that is this.

Wash your hands people.

And if your climate is as dry as it is here in the desert southwest, moisturize!

2006-01-21T19:19:00.000-05:00

On this fine day, and after a year of talking about it, heming and hawing, Steph and I put a down payment on a Sheldon Harvey painting. We pass by this gallery in Old Town almost daily in the warmer months, and several times a month in the winter. The first time I saw his work hanging on dispay, I was blown away. Sheldon Harvey is Navajo and uses, with permission from tribal elders, traditional spiritual figures in his works, but what drew me to him specifically was the techniques he used, the colors. My favorites of his works have figures that are at once human, animal, and spirit, stretched, elongated, almost alien-like. Playful, questioning, proud, unsure the mask and body language evokes humanistic emotion. The colors are rich and with what I call a very painterly application, heavy brushstrokes, the process as much a part of the art as the image. If you haven't heard of Sheldon Harvey, or seen his work, check out Andrews Pueblo Pottery. You'll find pictures of his paintings and his scultpures.
www.andrewspueblopottery.com

This is not the piece, though this is one we thought alot about. It's called New Look Connection and is currently on display at Andrews Pueblo Pottery

2006-01-19T13:45:00.000-05:00

Ah Ha! Another fav. store of mine making it's way to the web. Hey Jhonny: The Lifestyle Stores. Situated in Albuquerque's Nob Hill, a prime browsing environment, Hey Jhonny is exactly what it says it is, a lifestyle store. You can find amazing furniture, candles, vases, glasses, fragrances, pillows, lighting, an fun selection of funky and practical bags and purses, books, and most importantly, inspiration. Like the A Store listed in my links, Hey Jhonny is another of my guilty pleasures. I particularly covet Kandinsky inspired pillows that would be PERFECT in our house. And while some items are clearly out of my budget, there are many items with which I can indulge my inner interior decorator/hoity design goddess wanna be. Hey Jhonny staff are always pleasant whether you're browsing or buying. They are like my Tiffany's. Because when you're in Hey Jhonny, you can't possibly imagine anything terrible happening.

www.heyjhonny.com

2006-01-18T16:41:00.000-05:00

Also, the latest edition of Ghoti Magazine is up. Come check us out at www.ghotimag.com.
Included in this installment is my review of Jeanette Winterson's book Weight: The Myth of Atlas and Hercules.

MUUUAAAHHH!!!

2006-01-18T16:10:00.000-05:00

I'm happily at Irysh Mac's preparing to work on much needed revisions. Before I get to all of that though, another update on the state of things.

It occured to me last night, after Steph and I spent the entire afternoon and evening laughing our selves silly at our own silly antics, that laughter is indeed the glue that holds us together. You would think it's something complicated, like undying love, phenominal sex, a singular life plan. You would be wrong. It is, undoubtedly, our ability to have a good time doing pretty much anything or nothing. The rest of it, love, passion, etc. is part of it of course, but the biggest part is unadulterated fun. It's fun to be 35 and 40 years old and be as silly as you want to be. We have concerns, big time what the future holds issues, where we'll be in a year, two years, five years, how we're going to deal financially. But even with all of that, hilarity rules.

Last night we were driving home and Steph gets cut off by this smallish stationwagon. Of course she totally lets loose a stream of profanity as is her want. Then she stops mid-stream and says, look, Giggles. The offender's vanity plate said Giggles. Then we watched him blow a totally red light. She said, woah, Giggles totally ran the red light. I said, Giggles is in trouble with the law.

We really couldn't get it together after that, all evening we were talking about Giggles, the possible crime committed, where he was headed in such a hurry. Most importantly, we couldn't stop laughing.

Cheers!