confessions-of-a-tangled-mind

first responder

2010-03-31T10:46:00.001-07:00

I am a first responder.
I come on to emergency scenes and I help people get through them. I have lifesaving skills. I breathe life back into those in their darkest, most desperate hour. Generally, I stumble upon people in need of my craft, but lately I have been seeking disasters out.
I keep my ear to the ground. Sometimes you can feel an earthquake coming hours before it actually hits. You get down low and press your ear to the soil. Soil is a better conductor for the sounds you are listening for. You press your ear very close to the ground. Then, you exhale and inhale slowly and, just before you dispel your next breathe, you pause and listen. You will hear a faint grumbling. The further away, the more faint it will be. Just repeat this process until you have figured out the concise location. This could take seconds or it could take years.
This is how I came to find her. I had my ear to the ground and heard and intense rumbling. It was so loud it came near to deafening. It seemed as though I was at the epicenter of a 9.5 magnitude quake. That, up until this very moment, I was completely unaware of the fact that I had been living in Chile and that it was May 22, 1960 and not March 31, 2010. The big one, Gran terremoto de Chile, was coming for me and I didn’t have anywhere to go, because a first responder needs to be where the action is. A first responder does not have the luxury of fleeing the scene. A first responder is responsible for staying the course and seeing things through like the captain of a sinking ship.
I had always come across disasters; I’ve never been part of one. As I lay there, waiting and listening, I pondered the specifics of my existence. If I am the first responder, then who will respond to me? Are there second responders that receive a signal when the first responder is down? Perhaps there is a beacon or all of the second responders live in a cave and when a first responder goes down, there are flashing lights and sirens and they emerge from the Earth’s crust to aid the fallen responder.
I was close to solving the mystery when I opened my eyes and saw her. She was staring at me with the largest set of eyes I had ever met. She asked me what I was listening for. I told her earthquakes. I asked her what she was listening for and she said teardrops.
We were listening for each other’s call. We were instantly locked in embrace. In the first second, it felt like we had been in this place for years. Our bodies were molded to fit one another not like two plucky strangers, but like identical twins. We were like two people that came into their respective forms together. Though our lips could not recite each other’s names, our hearts were long-time acquaintances. Each heart beat out the rhythm of a devotional power ballad written on behalf of the other heart.
I told her that she was the most beautiful disaster I had ever seen. I called her Cañete. When she kissed my face she told me my cheeks tasted like salt. So, to her, I was Sal. I can’t say that I remember what people called me before I first responded to her. I can’t say that anyone did call me before her. If you told me that my 35 years of roaming were spent as a nameless person, I would believe you because I have no memory of this time.
All I know is right now. Right know we are Sal and Cañete as I imagine we have always been and will always be.
Cañete trembles and shakes the earth apart while I water the soil with saline tears. When we become so far apart that we cannot find each other, we simply press our ears into the soil exhaling, inhaling, and pausing until we have figured out each other’s concise locations. When we are together, it as like the place on the ocean floor before the ocean shelf drops into oblivion. We are the place that is neither Earth nor ocean, yet perfectly both at the same time. We are the tipping point between pain and pleasure and we are eternally bound for the moment.

describes the universe

2010-03-16T12:21:00.001-07:00

There are times when I know I am about to make a bad decision before it has happened. Some might call this foresight. However, in order for foresight to be complete follow through must also exist. It’s not enough to just know; there must also be doing. My trouble stems from the fact that I see the options ahead of me along with the myriad of consequences, but I cannot find the drive to take heed of the outcome.
I’ll give an example: hypercolor t-shirts. Adolescence is no time to wear heat sensitive material. My young body producing the kind of sweat that carries an odor for the first time in all of my life and strange lumps protruding and pushing upward on the flesh that used to be perfectly flat. The result was predictable: lightened spots under the armpits like the inverse of sweat stains and light round circles over the burgeoning breasts. Yet, I still fell hook, line, and sinker.
You are the hypercolor to my adult life.
I knew even before I contacted you what would happen. There is a certain amount of predictability to our situation and I don’t know if this implicates you more than me. Regardless, when we found ourselves in a cold embrace, I was not surprised. Our bodies pressed against each other on the couch were like puzzles pieces that fit together but do not reveal corresponding pieces of the picture.

it’s as though everything we had done prior had led up to this moment. i should be present, because it could be the happiest moment of my life.

We held onto each other as if we were desperately trying to hold onto ourselves and we felt something slipping. Something was getting away from us and we needed to hold tighter, except the tighter we clung the further this thing, this us, slipped away.
I kept my eyes closed. I was afraid of looking into your eyes and seeing the truth. I didn’t want to see the way you looked at me and I wanted even less for you to see the way I looked at you. I was pretending you were someone else. Someone who is real, someone who is not you at all. I focused hard on your nose until my vision blurred and I could think of you as the stranger I see in passing on the bus and have always wanted to press my face against. Except, my face was pressed against yours and I could not bear the thought. So, I thought about other things instead.

there were no vows made, no grand expressions of affection. yet, we always imagined there would be more. yet, all we had was my constnat breath whistling through your ear as though your ear were a wind tunnel.

On occasion, I would open my eyes. It was cathartic to gaze upon you, dashing my dreams and then, close my eyes and rebuild them. In these moments I would imagine a great divide. We weren’t actually here, so close, feeling each other up on your sofa. There was an infinitely expansive universe between us that grew exponentially with every whisper, with every caress. My lips were booster rockets that propelled you into oblivion. My hands were groping for solid ground on a new planet. This planet was not held within the boundaries of your skinny jeans. This planet was in the new universe that we were creating, that our void made a reality.

in the end, as people, our desires carry us away from our needs. they are our undoing and resurrection—a cleansing forest fire that will surely create new life.

The next morning, as I sit stirring a swirl of creamer into my coffee I felt as listless as god must have felt as he swirled his finger through the empty universe of his own creation. I looked into my cup and saw un-actualized potential in the reflection of the stranger peering back at me. I looked up at you, I saw the darkness I hoped to escape by being with you in the first place.
Before I set the momentum of this train in motion, I was terrified that I would feel something real. That I would fall in love and there would only be heartbreak and sorrow for you are not a creature who can love. I was entirely unprepared for the stark reality that is going through motions that are absent of any real feeling. It is a hollow place. It is dark and cold. Furthermore, it is disorienting. You cannot tell up from down or forward from backward. So, you just stay in one place, stagnant and unmoving. I was about to fill the silence by telling you all of these things I was not feeling and wished desperately to be feeling. I needed to create an emotion, because feeling nothing is worse than feeling something really bad.
I was relieved when you told me I had to go. Our new universe found a way to tell me to keep my mouth shut and I listened. The walk was cold and rainy. It seemed fitting and gave me something to feel. The void was filled. We both got what we had wanted all along.

trading places

2010-03-16T11:17:00.000-07:00

If by some magical implement or potion we traded places. I became you and you became me. Would you still ignore me? Or, would I have the power to make you long for me while I looked away?

falling: Jennifer's Body

2010-03-14T15:38:00.001-07:00

She looked so peaceful. …
If we were related, like lions from the same pride, I would have laid down next to her and nuzzled my face into her open palm. We would be warm with love and any other creature who happened to pass by, even a sparrow, would want to share in the display of love and serenity.
…and we would sleep and dream of the human versions of ourselves standing upright, running, tumbling, picking flowers, holding hands. We would dream of the warm sun kissing our faces with freckles. We would imagine ourselves as Kerri Russell before she went Felicity and cut off her hair. Our respiration would be in perfect rhythm and our eyelashes would embrace each other’s as we lay with our faces pressed so near to one another that we would come as close as any two physical beings have ever come to being a Venn diagram.
We would not have the words to express the feelings in this moment, but the reflection of our eyes in one another’s would send a message to our souls that this is what it means to be content and this moment would be with us even when we were apart. We would love and be loved and the world would fall away. Far away.
But I am not a lioness and either is she. We have no fur. There is no love. There is only her and the cold, damp pavement.
I came upon her with an innocent curiosity about the curious girl who was sleeping on the pavement. I thought that perhaps she did not know she had dozed off. Perhaps she was waiting for me to find her. She would open her eyes and tell me she had waited so long that she had fallen asleep. As I approached I realized that she was not asleep, because people don’t normally sleep with their palms up. That is when I saw the blood.
An ambulance was called, not be me but by someone who could keep their wits about them while I stared at her. I kneeled down and pressed my ear against her mouth as if she were to whisper that she was ok. I felt her breath, but she made no sound. I crouched over her and held her hand hoping our dreams would come true. She opened her eyes, but could not hold me back. We were in trouble.
She had been drinking. Perhaps to forget about things that were said and not meant. I imagine she told someone she loved them, but they could not love her back. She was out on a ledge and she was alone there. She needed this fact to fall away. She needed to push it out of her heard. She drank until she was a ghost and no one could see her. She couldn’t even see herself. So, she couldn’t tell that she was reliving the trauma and going out on the ledge again. She was just thinking of you and all the things she would have said differently and, just as in love, she lost her footing and fell and I found her.
The paramedics arrived before I could really grasp what was happening. They moved her gently, but quickly and attended to her. It was a ballet ensemble. She was the swan and they danced around her attending to her great needs. I stood outside and watched their performance through the ambulance window. I felt the pieces of me falling away like a puzzle assembled in the air, without support. Eventually, no matter how beautiful the picture, it begins to buckle and the pieces give way.
I knew how she felt.
I have fallen while grasping to the ledge that is you. Except, the paramedics have not arrived and I am bleeding out for an eternity.
Jennifer fell because she knew she loved you more than she could bear. She was purging you out and crying was never going to be enough.
I couldn’t go through life in confinement, as afraid of pleasure as I am of pain. I went on that ledge because I had to. Just like Jennifer. And, in the moments just before the crash, we knew exactly who we were and who we could never be for you. The landing pushed you out of our heads for good and now we can be quiet and content, knowing it can only get better from here.

Aloicious and Potato

2010-03-04T14:34:00.000-08:00

I feel like I can’t remember the last time I had a day off. That is the thing about not having a set schedule. Your days off are so erratic; it’s almost as if they will never come and, once they pass, it’s as though they never happened. Is this one foot in the grave or one foot out the door?
Today was going to be different. I was NOT going to waste my day cleaning my room or doing laundry. This is what ordinary people do and I decided to stop being ordinary. It’s a conscious decision, which requires deliberate action.
The first thing to do is to get out of my pajamas, which are actually whatever outfit I was wearing the day before minus the bottom half. This seems like another ordinary behavior that I will have to work up to changing.

One day I will own pajamas.

Once one is no longer in her pajamas one feels motivated to do something. Mostly because it really does feel awkward to stand in the middle of your apartment, naked with nothing to do. The shower becomes a logical next step along with lather, rinse and repeat.

I have always wondered why it’s important to repeat the process of lather and rinse and in what intervals is it required for best results. Is it a suggestion to consider the process every time you’re in the shower? The shampoo bottle’s way of saying, “Psst! Remember me? You ran me through your hair the other day. The strands of your hair and I got along very well. I enjoyed my time with all of the, but there was one in particular that really tickled my fancy. I was hoping we could be reintroduced. I want to see if there is a real connection there.”
Or is it a command. Lather, rinse, DO IT AGAIN! AGAIN! AGAIN! Perhaps the person who wrote these instructions suffers from obsessive-compulsive disorder and they are not convinced that the first or any of the subsequent times did the trick. “Why is your hair so dirty? Do it again. Will it never be clean?” So, you repeat the ritual until there is nothing left to lather and you’re left holding clumps of your hair while sobbing in the shower.
Perhaps the pen that wrote these instructions is attached to the hand of a sadist. “Show me how bad you want your hair to be clean! Not good enough. Do it over. You call that scrubbing?! My grandmother’s toothless gums are more abrasive than those puny flower petals you call fingers.” The berating continues until the first sight of blood. Then, a gentleness sweeps over the situation like a silk sheet. “There. There. You did a good job. Now, I know how badly you want to please me and I love you for it.”
Maybe it is just a way to get you to buy more shampoo.

Generally, I sing in the shower to avoid thinking about these things, but my roommate is home and she hates my singing voice. (Note to self, obsessing about shampoo instructions is another thing ordinary people do. You must knock it off.)

I picked out my outfit keeping my goals of not being mediocre in mind. I donned a multi-colored scarf with a black and white, horizontally striped shirt. Ordinary people can neither pull off horizontal stripes nor can they mix patterns. I’m really doing this.
Before leaving the house, I grab my owl-shaped mug, a bag of my favorite tea and set off for the market. Ordinary people don’t like crowds or wondering around the city without a plan. I shall embrace both today.

The big glitch in my plan is that non-ordinary people don’t lie to themselves on a daily basis. They don’t need to. They have the luxury of being comfortable with both their actions and their motives. I am comfortable with neither. I can’t even accept the fact that the reason I am leaving the house at all is in hopes of bumping into you. Exemplary people are compelled by compulsion. They are constantly in motion. They are not waiting around for a catalyst in human form. They are imbued with the mantra “carpe diem.” They are not scampering around the city in hopes of being caught in your gaze. I am.

I don’t have time to ponder the distance, if any, between ordinary and me. I know what time you go to the café and I am running late.

As I walk, I ponder what I will say if I see you. How will the scenario play out? This is another thing ordinary people do that exemplary people do not. Exemplary people let life happen. Ordinary people imagine how it might happen and what they might say when it does. Neither of which ever comes to fruition.
As I round the final corner to my destination, I look at my watch. I’m somehow right on time. I planned this perfectly. The stars are in aligninment and I am in my position. Now what?! I got too distracted by shampoo. I forgot to think of what I would say.
I open the door with my owl mug in hand.

~I look up in time to almost walk right into you. There is an abrupt halt and a drop of coffee splashes onto your hand—your amazing, wonderful, glorious hand.
I’m so sorry. Let me get you a napkin.
It’s ok. Really, it is.
I just can’t believe how clumsy I am. Have I said I was sorry yet?
Yes. Yes. You look familiar.
I am. I work here.
(I see you everyday, except for the ones I have off. On those days I only imagine seeing you. At night, I dream of seeing you and every breath I take is a longing to see you.)
Are you working today?
No. I have the day off. I am just out, taking in the day.
(I imagine this is the sort of thing and exemplary person might casually say in passing.)
Must be nice.
It is. I see you all the time. I feel like I should know your name.
It’s Matthew. What’s yours.
Matilda.
Your name is Matilda?
No, but it’s what I would like you to call me. I’ve always wished my name was Matilda.
Very well then, Matilda, it’s nice to finally meet you.
Likewise.
Before we part you ask if I am free tomorrow evening. I tell you that I plan to see a band perform and I invite you to go. You say yes.

I melt and seep into the pores of the sidewalk.

That night, we meet on the sidewalk and embrace like old friends and exchange knowing glances. I take you into the space where everything will happen. I bring you to a table and introduce you to a group of people.
These are the people who are most important to me.
That night leads to shoe shopping, which leads to a happy life together. We have monogrammed towels and discuss the front-page story of the newspaper while our dogs, Aloicious and Potato, yip at our feet and beg for splashes of orange juice to hit them on their noses. The sun shines and the birds sing show tunes.

The candy man can ‘cause he mixes it with love and makes the world taste good.~

I look up and see that you are not at the café. Either you haven’t arrived or I managed to just miss you. Poor timing is just such a thing I would do.

I get my hot water for my tea. I say hello to people familiar and unfamiliar. I leave. I wander the market aimlessly and I go shoe shopping. None of the specifics of my day diverge from the plan I made up in my head. Almost everything happened that I thought would. The sun was out and I had a smile on my face. It was a nice, normal, ordinary day. I suppose I can’t really complain.

fly zone

2010-03-02T20:39:00.000-08:00

I fly through the air. I fly, not like a brave, graceful Eagle—not with the ease that comes from the knowledge that you are on the top of the food chain. I fly like a baby bird uncertain of her wings ability to keep her up. A baby bird that longs for nothing else but to remain in her nest having anything necessary from the world brought to her—the safety of not having to see the superfluous aspects of existence.
I am like the baby bird who has been pushed out on a perch and told to go for it.
But, I don’t want to. I can’t do it. I want to be back in my nest. I want to be anywhere but here. I can’t be this person for you. I can’t be this person for myself. I can’t. I can’t! I can’t!!

Here I am flying. Soaring. Questioning. Doubting. Struggling. Fighting. Conquering.

My demons? I cannot make them out. They are so far beneath me when I am up this high. I can’t even make out that they have faces. I can only see their silhouettes. They are rendered expressionless to me.
It is like when you are racing in a canoe away from the shore. You get to a certain point when you can see people and they are flailing their arms around, but you can’t tell if they are cheering or jeering and it doesn’t matter. Regardless, they are too far away to influence your feelings on the situation. They could be raising the dead or commencing a wild rumpus. This is of no consequence to you.

My demons cannot reach me. I am untouchable in this space and time.

I am far away from even myself. I have never had this feeling before. It must be what dying feels like. I am not hovering over myself, watching myself say inappropriate things to the people I care about. Instead, I feel myself go through cell division. There is me over there and me over here and I can’t tell which me is in the foreground and which me is in the background. Which me is judging me and which me is receiving criticism. However, the animosity comes as soon as division takes places and the divide increases exponentially until I am so far away from myself that I am unsure whether I really exist. I swipe the air, but I can’t touch me. I feel as though something clings to my hands, like reaching into a spider web. Those are the traces of me I have left behind, but I can’t actually feel the substance of me. This is an amalgam of relief and anxiety both of which I can neither feel nor register while I am in the air.

My flight is my death and my birth. As I dive into the grave, I simultaneously feel my head emerge from the womb. I am coming as I am going. This is why I think things fell apart for us. I am an un-anchored tangent and you are a tetherball. You bounce and fly through the air, but you are centered. On my best days I am inconsistent. This led to mirrored resentment. We hated each other for everything we were not. We hated ourselves for everything we were.

In the air, I have no recollection of you or us. If I passed you flying, I might look at you with a strained recognition. Where do I know you from? I might think that I saw you on the train, but it wouldn’t occur to me that we shared intimate moments. That at one time we pressed our heads together in the dark and dreamed each other’s dreams.

Up here there is no trace of anything. There is no mourning. There is no regret. There is only newness and excitement. There is clarity and a faint whistling of air that sails past my ears, like the light tickle of a feather.

My flight is my bliss.

right shoe to left shoe: a proposition

2010-03-01T14:31:00.000-08:00

[A man in his early 30s enters the room. He is not the type of man who takes joys in frivolous expenditures of money. However, he does appreciate having nice things. This is evident in the shoes he chose to wear on this particular day. Upon entering the living room, he walks over to his favorite chair and sits down. He is looking over the NASDAQ figures. There is something about reading stock market fluctuations that makes him feel ill at ease. His pigeon-toed posture often gives this uneasiness away. This puts his left and his right shoe toe-to-toe and eye-to-eye. While he takes in the paper, his shoes are take in each other. This ritual has gone on for sometime and is one that is comforting and enjoyed by all involved parties. These moments are candid and treasured.]

-Can I ask you a question?
=I hope that was satisfying.
-What?
=Your question.
-I’m sorry?
=Your question, You asked me a question. I was wondering if it was satisfying.
-I’m confused.
=People often ask one another if they can ask a question without acknowledging that the inquiry is itself a question posed. I find it humorous.
-Oh—
=if I had a question, I might announce that need or diplomatically state: “With your permission, I have a general inquiry.”
-[silence]
=(a look of concern sweeps over the room) I’m sorry. I’m being difficult. … Again.
-Yes. It’s fine.
=You were going to ask me something, before I went on my tangent of grandeur.
-Well, yes. … I have something to tell you, but I need to know something. I am wondering if you will promise not to get upset?
=I don’t know how to respond to that.
-(meekly) With a smile? A nod in agreement?
=You’re asking me to listen to something and not get upset. This leads me to believe that you believe whatever you’re about to tell me would upset a rational being, that you’re going to tell me this something regardless and expect me to transcend my natural emotional state and not get upset. You know I’m not an existentialist!
-You’re partially right. You’re partially wrong, too.
=(Has progressively inched forward up to up until now. At this point, reclines a bit) Enlighten me.
-Well, first off, I would never say what I am about to say to you to a rational being. So, that part is moot. However, all that other stuff you said about transcendence was spot on.
=(brief pause) Well…I’m going to tell you yes, but really I am not sure if this is a promise I can keep.
-I did this all wrong. I’m terrible at this sort of thing.
=This sort of thing?! What does that even mean? I feel like I should be bracing for impact.
-I have been think a lot about you and me, me and you—us and something has popped into my thoughts that I just can’t seem to shake. I don’t know exactly how to put it, but—
=Oh god. Here it comes.
-I should just have out with it, before you faint…again.
=(pause) That was one time and I told you that when we got to the butterfly house that insects make me nervous. It doesn’t matter if they are beautiful insects. A bug is a bug. I knew I’d never live this down—
-I think you’re neurotic! There it is. I said it.
=(straightens up in a corrective posture)
-See?! I knew you’d be upset.
=That shows what you know, Nobel Laureate. I am not upset. Not upset in the slightest.
-No?
=Offended, but not upset. Perhaps it is neurotic to note the difference?
-You’re taking this the wrong way.
=So, I’m neurotic AND wrong?!
-I keep saying things wrong—err..poorly. What I meant to say is that you’re acting like being neurotic is a bad thing.
=Well, isn’t it?
-I suppose it could be to some.
=To some?
-Yes, I suppose, but not to me.
=I wonder what we should put on the plaque?
-You’re being sarcastic and I’m being serious.
=How can you blame me? We start with you telling me that you’re going to upset me, but I shouldn’t get upset. We beat around the bush, for what seems like an eternity. At one point, I thought I was going to get the “it’s not you, it’s me” speech. This quickly devolved into the “it’s not me, it’s you” song and dance when you so callously called me a lunatic and told me not to worry, because it’s a good thing.
-We started with me asking you a question and, for the record, I said you were neurotic not a lunatic.
=Don’t be shirty.
-I’m not. Let me explain where all this came from, so you can understand why this is a good thing.
A handful of months ago, I thought I wanted to take a break from us.
=I need to lie down.
-Stop that. Let me finish. I have a point.
=Carry on.
-Thank you. This thought came to me during hot yoga. I felt incomplete and wondered what type of mate would complete me. Everywhere I went, I thought about this and not a sole I encountered satisfied or satiated my curiosity. After about a month of this, it occurred to me that this idea of completion is kind of bullshit.
You know?
There is nothing missing in me, I don’t require completion or the supplementation of another being. Figuring this out became a sort of centering and defining moment. An awakening, if you will. I might even call it an epiphany—perhaps.
I digress. This has also led me to think more freely about you and this is when I noticed your neurosis. You are so tightly laced, because you fixate on minutia. You notice the little things with ease, because you are tightly laced. You rarely filter things out in social settings, because you’re mind is always elsewhere. We see new places and encounter new things together. You listen to me with one ear and the world with the other. Because of this, you are always discovering new things. You surround yourself with creation. Your collections are diverse and thought provoking. In short, you stimulate and intrigue me.
If you weren’t neurotic, you would be another boring lost sole. I would never see you. I would never notice you.
I don’t want to be completed anymore than I want to complete you. What I do want is for us to occupy each other’s time for the near, foreseeable, and distant future. I kind of hope you feel the same.
=(long pause) It seems you might be a tightly-laced lunatic, too.

[He is done reading the paper. He gets up and prepares breakfast.]

he loves me...he loves me not...where is he?

2010-02-28T23:16:00.000-08:00

I am looking for a man.
This is not an all-encompassing search that occupies the fullness of my being. It does not define who I am. It is as innocuous as my red hoop earrings. Yes, they are big and perhaps they do draw your eye at first. However, after awhile you stop noticing them. They never cease to exist. They do not turn to vapor on my earlobes, but their noteworthiness diminishes—like a dandelion in a steady breeze. Much like the dandelion, though my spores are often blown about leaving me with nothing to show, my presence means the planting of love all around me. I am the fertilizer of love. The seed, the bud, the promise, the hope.
Today, I saw a dapper man crossing the street. He is the kind of man who sends out his shirts for cleaning. His collar smacked of starch. He has a medicine cabinet full of grooming supplies. His nails are clean. He has crisp edges. He is a well-presented package.

He is of no interest to me.

Just as I am of no interest to him. My image made no reflection on his pupils. I felt him pass right through me. It looked like he felt a chill, but perhaps I flatter myself. I am his inverse. We don’t even exist on the same plane.

I am not looking for him.

My someone has dirty nails and nasal sprays. His socks are mismatched and his hair is unkempt. He is rough around the edges and soft to the core. He has become a bit desperate. He is not desperate in the way that causes him to long for a woman—any woman. He is desperate in the way that causes him to let go of pretenses and allow himself to freely give and receive love.

My heart is big. My heart is full. My heart longs share the bounty of its riches.

My someone knows he is worth more than his current appraisal. He has taken his lumps and, at the end of the day when the sun sets on his troubles, he finds solace in the act of his fingers interlacing and commingling with my mine. He is comforted by the compression of our palms.
When we collapse into bed, my head fits perfectly in the crook between his shoulder blades and the rhythmic beating of our hearts combined creates a symphonic opus. It is the sound of one million butterflies fluttering their wings in unison. All the while we sleep and dream of our gravest fears that otherwise have no power to burden us for during waking hours of togetherness, they are pushed to the inarticulate corners of our consciousness. They come in passing and, on their best days, are vaguely remembered in passing.
As we breathe, the rise and fall of our lungs in like the rising and setting of the sun. So, when we finally awake, it feels as though we have shared countless sunrises and sunsets in the span of 7 hours.
When we meet on the street in the dead of winter, we embrace and the warmth of his breath fogs my glasses. When this happens, he traces the shape of a heart on my lenses with his finger. His love clouds my vision.

Our love is like the sweetest Popsicle and the most quenching lemonade on the hottest of days. It is the moment, when holding your breath, right before you are forced to pass out or let go.

It is a head rush and I want it.

i'm just a coaster, but my wheels won't go

2010-02-18T22:06:00.000-08:00

You had something to say. You told me it had nothing to do with me, as if that would make me feel any better. You said something about an awkward situation with another person. I have to admit that I stopped listening and slipped inside my head somewhere around these words.
As I got ready, I had a feeling there was someone else. I had the opportunity to back out on our plans and spend time with someone else. Would that have made those words go away or would it just prolong the feeling of hanging on a wire, inevitably fated to fall without a net?
Am I being overly dramatic? I would say that in relation to the emotions coursing through my small frame and oversize glasses, that my drama level is barely a blip on the radar—least of all yours.
What does awkward situation mean anyway? Is it a situation that brings you intense sadness or happiness? I imagine difficulty. Difficult words cruising down difficult roads. Choosing bumpy terrain in an attempt to avoid dead-end turns. It turns out one of those bumps was me.
You said you enjoy my company and there was nothing I did wrong. It apparently wasn’t enough either.
We had an amazing time on our last encounter. The air seemed sweeter that evening. We exchanged warmth as we lay in embrace. Then, one soft sweet kiss passed from your lips to mine. Bliss.
Now, I am faced with awkward situations and I find myself awfully confused. If I am the one who is constant and kind, why am I the one being pushed away?
I may not have clean fingernails or be soft around the edges. However, I have an enduring spirit. I will rejoice in your success and wipe away your tears when the world pummels you. I will take pleasure in in your whimsy and squeal with delight when the occasions present themselves. I will be steadfast. I will hold you close when the world forsakes you and hold you up when everyone wants to know whom you are and shake your hand.
Constant.
But, somehow, this is not what you want. You want to keep me close enough to lay eyes on, to watch over, but not so close that I feel a sense of ownership. A carrot that dangles never to be eaten.
This is my path, perhaps chosen from the beginning. Perhaps continually stumbled upon by accident like an end table that is perpetually bumped into when the lights are off.
Fate. Happenstance. Semantics. Trivial.
I hope your path leads to happiness, but even more than that, I hope it leads back to me. I can’t wait, but I can hope.
Goodnight.

TRIBUTARIES

2010-02-14T09:19:00.000-08:00

Jodie Marie Johnson: "Ahh,Valentines Day. The anniversary of the day I met the man I thought was the love of my life. Boy was I wrong. Today I reflect on my past and thank him for all my beautiful children and the lessons I learned. I am so glad I was finally able to get me and my kids out of that life and am so grateful for all the people ...that have come into my life and helped me to start over. Life is good!"

Samantha Klasinski: "nothing like spending valentines day watching a marathon of stories about people who snapped and killed their lovers. gotta love cable"

Megan Penny Wright: "My valentines present today: plenty of sleep and an hour at home alone, not even the dogs are here. So nice."

Gabe Garcia: "makin love to my skateboard for valentines day. shes so pretty"

wax on, wax off

2010-02-09T16:47:00.001-08:00

I must admit that I find the ritual of waxing quite peculiar. Don’t get me wrong. It is a ritual I engage in, but a peculiar one all the same. In the days of trapping, one would pay a handsome price for a pelt. Now we pay someone to take ours. The other sensation I find peculiar is being in a room with a stranger, completely naked from the waist down but completely clothed from the waist up. It is like the sort of juvenile, wham-bam-thank you ma’am love that happens in the back seat of a car. I would almost feel more comfortable if I were completely naked. There is more of a feeling of continuity there.
My appointment was for an extended bikini wax. I choose this service because, in my mind, it is the perfect balance between matron and porno crotch. I do not find the idea of having either very appealing. The extension takes enough away so that I feel the vestibule is accessible without taking so much away that I need to use the terminology “bacon strip” while referencing it. Perfect, no?
I walked in and went through the usual motions: discarded bottom vestiges, laid on table and placed the ceremonial towel that is yanked away almost as soon as it is set. The woman began as she does, asking me how life was, pillow talk of sorts. Then, she asks if I “wanted to follow the same lines or try a shape?”
“like what?”
“A heart.”
“A heart?”
“For Valentine’s Day.”
“Really?!”
I am still a bit befuddled by the exchange, but happy to be hairless again.

the mattress mistress

2010-02-07T18:08:00.000-08:00

Love hurts. In fact, it literally kills people some people. I do not believe this happens is because love is bad, or evil. Love is pure, like salt. Love also knows no boundaries. This can be dangerous in the wrong person’s hands. The motives of one pursuing love must be as pure as the driven snow, because of love’s all-encompassing elements. When this reverence is not observed the result is devastating. Love will buck and break itself much like a poorly trained pit bull. The ensuing disaster can be fatal. The 1990s brought on such a tragedy for one unlucky man.
He was in his 50s and his quest for love was driven my vanity. He took a young girl to be his beautiful trophy. I thing to dote over and look sweet on his increasingly-aged arm.
I imagine the events to have transpired like this:
He surprised her with a jet-setting trip for a few days, because she loved spontaneity. It reminded him of his younger days and he felt young by proxy. As they wandered through the bustling airport to their departure gate, he got very light-headed and needed to sit down for a spell. He chalked it up to dehydration and did not want to upset his sweet Juliet before their romantic get away.
They had dinner reservations and a night of painting the town red on the agenda. As she primped herself in the suite’s vanity mirror, he presented her with a bejeweled necklace. It resembled a strand of twinkling raindrops resting serenely on her emaciated and protruding collarbone. She loved it!
They enjoyed a four-course meal and the finest of champagne. The bubbles tickled their noses ever so slightly and buoyed their spirits to a state of effervescence. They danced until they believed they could not dance anymore. Then, they danced all the way home.
The intensity of their evening came to a head on the 400-thread count, Egyptian cotton sheets. He loved the moistness of her young, supple skin pressed against the thread-bare dregs of his life-atrophied body while he thrust and thrashed on top of her. She often had a glassy, distant look in her eyes when he exploded and shuddered in the briefest of deaths. He would tell her he often saw a light at the end of the tunnel at the moment he was cumming inside of her. He was preparing himself for the sweet surrender. The flash of bright, vivid colors that flooded his plane of vision and the dancing of the hairs all down his spine. This time instead of color, he saw the best moments of his life and then black.
He was found in an Accra hotel room. The body he left behind was completely void of dress, his mouth brimming with the foam of a rabid dog trying desperately to control an infectious disease. For this man, it was love. He could not keep up with his Juliet and his heart gave out. The young woman left the hotel without declaration and her identity may never be known.
Urban legend has it that the events of his death transpired on Valentine’s Day. Incidentally, no one has ever died on Single’s Awareness Day.

cavaties and paper cuts

2010-02-03T11:46:00.000-08:00

That is what results from faux-romance driven holidays that focus on consumerism, candy, and card stock.
So, this is February. The time of the year when all the couples in the world pair up and forget the existence of all other human life. In actuality, my truthiness statistic indicates that approximately 90% of all couples break up on or around Valentine's Day. If you have not experienced this phenomenon, then you're dodging a bullet that surely cannot be dodged for very long.
Suitable alternative? Have no fear; I've found one. I find it better to celebrate a different holiday than the violent, fat, naked baby holiday pushed by greeting card and chocolate companies. What's the holiday you ask? Why it's Single's Awareness Day! On this day you will find me in neither pink nor red, for the colours of S.A.D are navy and chartreuse.
How do you celebrate this wonderful holiday? Another good question. Thanks for asking, readership.

My suggestions include:
1. Make and name a piñata after a past lover. The difference between the piñata and your former love is that it's ok to beat a piñata with a stick until you are able to get the sweetness to come pouring out.
2. For every nice thing you say to a single person, say 5 not-so-nice things to that obnoxious couple ahead of you in line for [insert tedious errand required of most grown ups here]. you know who they are: "no i love you more, schmoopy." Or just go out of your way to do something really nice. (For instance, when you're buying your local homeless-run newspaper, like i know you were already planning on doing anyway, give them an extra dollar.)
3. Fly a kite and/or catch raindrops on your tongue (these are climate-based suggestions).
4. Pamper yourself. Get a foot and/or hand massage. Regardless of your gender, your hands and feet work hard for you and deserve a reward from time-to-time.
5. Replace one green vegetable in your meals with dessert all day, and if you were already planning on eating dessert--double dessert!
6. Just get rid of that box of letters and move on already!
7. Part your hair on the opposite side, so you can see how you look to other people.
8. Learn how to count and say your A,B,Cs in another language (or learn the alphabet of your native tongue).
9. Try a new food you always thought you would hate, but this time do it pretending you've always thought you'd love it. (this is especially good for people IN relationships to do w/o their significant other. This is good because there isn't anyone there to say "i knew you'd like it!" it can be your little secret).
10. Get ridiculously dressed up and go to the grocery store. You'll feel like a celebrity--everyone will stop and look at you (not that they don't already).

The wonderful thing about this holiday is that you don't actually need to be single to celebrate it. Much like you don't need to be African American to celebrate Black History Month, which I might add is this month as well. You just need to be willing to spend a consumer holiday not being a consumer whore! Instead, grab a pal (your Single Awareness Partner) and do whatever satisfies your flights of fancy--you know you want to!
Let me know if you want me to be your S.A.P., I'll be learning a new alphabet.
xo

Bah Humbug!

2010-02-02T23:00:00.000-08:00

This marks the beginning of my favorite anti-ritual. I do not fancy myself a Scrooge. I can find the good in most things. However, there are some things that I can neither justify nor abide. February is the home to one of these such things—Valentine’s Day. I occurred to me that I don’t know a thing about the holiday that I despise so much. So, this year we are going to start off with a history lesson.

Saint Valentine's Day is an annual holiday held on February 14 celebrating love and affection between intimate companions. [barf] The holiday is named after one or more early Christian martyrs named Valentine and was established by Pope Gelasius I in 496 AD. It is traditionally a day on which lovers express their love for each other by presenting flowers, offering confectionery, and sending greeting cards (known as "valentines"). The holiday first became associated with romantic love in the circle of Geoffrey Chaucer in the High Middle Ages, when the tradition of courtly love flourished.
Numerous early Christian martyrs were named Valentine. The Valentines honored on February 14 are Valentine of Rome (Valentinus presb. m. Romae) and Valentine of Terni (Valentinus ep. Interamnensis m. Romae). Valentine of Rome was a priest in Rome who was martyred about AD 269 and was buried on the Via Flaminia. His relics are at the Church of Saint Praxed in Rome. and at Whitefriar Street Carmelite Church in Dublin, Ireland.
Valentine of Terni became bishop of Interamna (modern Terni) about AD 197 and is said to have been martyred during the persecution under Emperor Aurelian. He is also buried on the Via Flaminia, but in a different location than Valentine of Rome. His relics are at the Basilica of Saint Valentine in Terni (Basilica di San Valentino)
No romantic elements are present in the original early medieval biographies of either of these martyrs. By the time a Saint Valentine became linked to romance in the fourteenth century, distinctions between Valentine of Rome and Valentine of Terni were utterly lost.

Before Chaucer began his flowery writing, romance and Valentine’s were not even mention in the same room let alone the same breath. I am left to marvel at how the connection was ever made? The martyrs weren’t even two lovers. That makes for epic tradition.

I’ll leave you all to ponder this history lesson and I will let the seething begin tomorrow.

Gullible's Travels: Pt 3

2010-01-19T18:01:00.000-08:00

I was only away for a day and a half. However, by the end of my trip, I was quite ready to return home. I find it funny that I rarely identify as a Seattleite in most travel situations, but in some instances I am keenly aware of the ways in which I cling to Pacific Northwest culture. I will use Los Angeles as an example. I hate driving. Being strapped behind the wheel in this particular city really makes me appreciate the luxury of being a pedestrian in Seattle. In SLC, I was thankful for fashion and a culture of fitness. When I begin to think fondly of the place I am only marginally enamored by, I know it’s time to leave.
When preparing for the trip home, I decided to plan for the inconveniences that I did not plan for on the first leg of my journey. My flight was scheduled at 7:45am. My plan was to wake up at 5:00am, leave by 6:00am, and arrive to the airport no later than 6:45am. This would allow plenty of time for any heartache that the John Wayne International Airport might want to throw my way. I woke up at 5:00am, as planned and was ready to leave by 5:30am—ahead of schedule. There was not a single car on the freeway. I arrived to the airport at 6:00am. I checked in and breezed through security. By 6:25am, I had breakfast and coffee in hand. Everything was going my way. I looked up at the flight monitor and saw that my flight was delayed by one hour—SONOFABITCH!!! This sort of thing perfectly fits with my track record of always arriving to things early or late, never on time. I ate, pouted a bit, and napped until it was time to board my tardy plane.
The flight was empty, which enabled me to have an entire row to myself. After take off, I kicked up my legs and slept until it was time to sit up and begin our descent. At that point, I slept sitting up and woke up as we hit the tarmack. It was a beautiful, dream-filled sleep.
I stepped off the plane, acquired coffee with ease and got lunch. I often wonder why airline food must be completely void of quality? I sat down at what seemed like a real restaurant and ordered a club sandwich. This club sandwich was comprised of Jenny-O lunch meat and Hormel pre-cooked bacon, yellowing shredded lettuce, a single tomato seed and a pound of mayonnaise all stuffed between two stale pieces of Wonderbread that they were calling “sour” dough. I paid $10.00 for this delicacy. Again, my appetite was discouraged by an overwhelming number of big-boned people crowding around me and engaging in worrisome food ritual. I only ate half of my sandwich.
The Vikings/Cowboys game was on the TV monitors at my gate. There was a woman intently watching when a jumbo ginger man sidled up to her asking why she would to pretend to be interested in something that was clearly a “man’s” thing? I was passing the time by texting with an old friend when this went down. I joked that I was going to ask that man to make an honest woman of me and set my roots in Salt Lake. That I would have a wardrobe full of floor-length, floral dresses and have my uterus ripped to shreds by a plethora of freakish gingers, clawing their way out of my previously pristine body. I’d be “living the dream.”
As we boarded the plane, we walked down a long corridor and came dangerously close to twin propeller planes. I nearly fainted. To be truthful, I was not terribly pleased to see that we would be flying on a very small jet, but I am relieved it is a jet all the same. We settled into our seats, fastened our seat belts, made sure our tray tables were up and that our seats were locked in the upright position. Then, a god-like voice came of the PA. “I am really sorry folks, we just found out about a last minute plane swap. So, we’ll need you to de-board and change gates. Again, I am sorry about the inconvenience.”
Seriously?

Gullible's Travels: Pt 2

2010-01-19T17:26:00.001-08:00

I woke up to the plane screeching to a halt on the runway of the Salt Lake City airport. I was looking at a two-hour lay over and the only thing on my mind was the timely acquisition of coffee. Much to my chagrin, I have become one of those pre-coffee, fire-breathing, people-hating monsters and post-coffee peach. For some reason (you know the reason) being in SLC put me on heightened alert. This made finding that first cup of the day all the more urgent as I felt monster me bubbling up to the surface. I walked around for what seemed like an eternity. In this time, I found countless fountain soda machines, three bars, and candy shop, Cinnabon, and a fast food mega-plex before stumbling a lonely Starbucks. As I took inventory of my surroundings, I noticed a majority of the people around me were obese. It was a sea of large and in charge people in sweat pants. My general feeling is that caffeine is a victimless crime. Certainly, not a deadly sin. Gluttony, however, is. So, wouldn’t one figure that in a religious city shouldn’t the need to over stuff oneself with non-nutritive foods be harder to sate than my need to caffeinate? Another general observation, if someone were to set off on a journey around the United States in search of the city that is Mecca to attractive people, I would strongly urge this person to skip over SLC. It’s all pock marks, halitosis, and front butt syndrome here.
My cup of coffee helped me relax and come to terms with the fact that my first meal of the day would be burger king. No sooner than I had convinced myself to be at peace with my reality, did a quite enormous man sit down next to me with enough food to feed a vastly small village and commence cramming. … Coffee was going to have to be good enough for me.
The flight into Orange County was uneventful. I will say that I have never been on a plane with so many people reading the Bible. I was not sure whether I found this observation to be comforting or terrifying. The landing was more bouncy than I would typically prefer. It felt as if we would bounce right off the jet way. We did not and I am relieved for small miracles.
Upon my arrival, I was faced with a choice between diving head long into my social circles, as a diversion, and only see my family in passing; and taking the time to face the music. One was an emotionally stunted path, the other an emotionally present. I decided that for what it was worth, I made the trip and that I shouldn’t be anything other than ok with my actions from there out. Incidentally, I opted for a happy medium.

Gullible's Travels: Pt 1

2010-01-19T16:07:00.000-08:00

What a nightmare. …
There are many varieties of bad dream. The one I encounter most is one where I find myself in what I imagine to be in the most terrible situation. I stop and tell myself that there is no way any of what is happening can be real. It is only a dream. It can’t hurt me. This is much like when a movie hero encounters a monster of her own invention and announces: “You can’t hurt me. I am your righteous creator and protagonist of this plot!”
The exposition of this dramatic nightmare was a last-minute trip, conceived of and planned under duress. The catalyst: the impending death of my grandfather. I did not want to process what seeing my grandfather in the hospital meant, let alone what it would be like to see the sad, fatigued, and stressed faces of my family. Over the years, Samuel Baca García has had a string of heart attacks, each one leaving him with diminished function of his heart.. The most recent attack has left him with a feeble 15%. I imagine that if abuela were still alive, she would quip that Sammy has lived his entire life without using much of his heart. Why should it matter how little is left now? There are of course extenuating circumstances. There is kidney failure needing dialysis and an infection interrupting dialysis. Essentially, what sounds like a lot of bad news to me. It was a bit much for me to handle. So, I did what any well-adjusted and rational person would do—I put off packing until 6 hours before my flight: midnight.
Packing actually went off without a hitch. I travel often enough that almost all of my liquids are TSA approved. I am also shameless about using other people’s shower supplies. I have gotten over my urge to dress by mood and only bring the bare essentials. I had everything assembled for my pilgrimage and was off to my brief, but necessary slumber.
Like most nightmares, the bad began with sleep. I woke up in the middle of the night convinced that I had not turned on my alarm clock. Without investigating the situations, I flipped over the switch. I woke up an hour later mortified, because I realized I had actually switched the alarm clock OFF! Ultimately, I woke myself up at 3:30am and discovered that I had turned the alarm volume completely off while I was asleep. How I manage these things, I will never know. …
Quickly, I took care of the matters of hygiene and set my sights on online check-in—the greatest invention ever created by man. After 15 minutes of clunking around a website without an iota of success, I was utterly exasperated and felt like a dunce, outwitted by the Internet. There was no time to fret. I had a bus to catch!
I ran. I don’t know why, and this will quickly become the one thing I did right that day, but I ran all the way to the metro tunnel and arrived with a handful of minutes to spare. No sooner than I entered that tunnel did I begin receiving suspicious looks from metro security. “This can’t be good.” It took me all of a minute to realize that the tunnel was closed and my bus was operating on the surface streets. SHIT! I fled my subterranean trap and emerged onto the street panicked. By some strange miracle, I knew exactly where to go. However, I had to be quite firm with the street urchins in my frantic hustle to catch that bus!
I caught it without a moment to spare. The bus ride to the airport was mostly uneventful, save the fact that people on downtown originating buses at 4:30am are operating in a non-cohesive mental state. Thank goodness there were enough of the less mentally cohesive on the bus keep themselves entertained, much like a plexi-room filled with plastic balls and toddlers.
Once I disembarked from the bus, I raced to the self-check kiosk. The clock was ticking; the race was on; [insert relevant quip about being in a frenzied hurry here]. I was momentarily thwarted by a set of rogue automatic doors. They persistently opened and closed becoming the airport equivalent of a mutinous miniature golf hazard and I the ill-fated golf ball. I had not time for the game and had to keep moving.
Next obstacle: check-in. The electronic kiosk was being, pardon my French, a little bitch. Attempt one: fail. Attempt two: same. Attempt three: SHANNON SMASH! After speaking with a Delta representative, we figured out that somehow I got booked on two return flights. Hence, all of my thwarted attempts at checking in. F.U. Priceline! Boarding pass in hand, I headed toward security.
My apprehensions toward security lines at the airport are similar to my apprehensions about getting behind the wheel at two in the morning. It’s not me I’m worried about, but everyone else around me. I travel light. I always have my travel documents out and at the ready. As well, my liquids are always in the proper receptacle and ready for whatever the XRAY machine might throw at them. What threw me for a loop was the presence of two check in lines: the one for the casual, some might say unprepared, traveler; the other for people like me—the expert traveler. This promised to be the smoothest part of my day. As it happens, the express traveler line is a veritable grocery express lane with no one monitoring the item limits and, therefore, no one adhering to them. If I were the line monitor on this particular day, you might here me say: Yes, a small carry on bag IS traveling light, congratulations. You, lady in front of the expert traveler, exceeding carry-on limits does not count as traveling light. And you, gender non-specified person burdened with numerous miniature people, express lines are more express when they are not clogged up by your progeny. I would make an example of these two people and send all non-compliant persons to the proper line. I ended up that the casual travelers made it through the line much faster, because everyone fancies themselves an expert. VANITY, old friend, you got me this time. …
At this point in my tale of woe, I need you to invoke an inner Home Alone-esque montage chalk full of running, confusion, aftershave and screaming. Finally, I arrive at the gate. I am the last person to board the plane and as I roll in the gate agent informed me that they were about to shut the doors and that I was “lucky.” Incidentally, lucky is not the word I would use to describe my morning, but to this person I just seem like a tardy schlemiel. So, fair enough. I muster a blank look, offer up no explanation and quickly board the plane where people are still standing in the aisle, cramming their personal effects into overhead bins. I am confident that I slowed no one down. I took my seat without incident and fell into a deep slumber. I had an exhausting morning.

my room

2010-01-07T11:34:00.001-08:00

Every once in awhile, I stop and take a look at my surroundings and the image of that moment is a perfect summation of my life at that point—regardless of whether or not I know what that summation might imply. I first thought to notice these passing moments after seeing Demetri Martin perform at the Moore Theatre. He recalled a time when he was frantically tearing through his apartment and suddenly let’s out, “where the fuck is my tambourine?!” The above photo illustrates my version of one of these priceless moments.
Description:
- a red eye mask and peach, satin robe hung on rogue nails left in place by a previous tenant. (the nails, not the eye mask and robe)
- Catholic art and paraphernalia on the facing wall.
- current reading material and my alarm clock on my unmade bed.
- cotton candy pink wig hanging on the lamp on my nightstand.
I am unsure as to what exactly this signifies about my current situation. I just know that it does and that those assumptions are best left up to a higher power—you! All I am fit to offer is a cursory explanation of the aforementioned items.
Explanation:
- eye mask: I am often prone to bouts of insomnia. What I notice most during these periods is that my eyes simply refuse to remain shut and I am often caught spending quality sleep hours staring at the ceiling. Having a shroud over my eyes removes this urge and, ultimately, helps me fall asleep in a timelier manner. (a side note, it also helps keep me from waking up when I am lodging at a hostel and people—assumption, tourists—are keeping any number of competing hours to see the city in each of their respective ways.)
- robe: I had many an instance while living in a dormitory in Denmark when the inspector would pound on the door as he was entering my unit—without any previous warning that he might be coming. The nights in this dormitory where often very wild and my state of dress at night was not always appropriate for public consumption. Having a robe nearby means I can quickly be covered regardless of my previous clothing state. This is important when you know someone spontaneous is also the holder of your keys.
- evidence of the Catholic within: no matter how far I have come from my Catholic upbringing, there is enough of it that still remains—the guilt. If not for that, that fact still remains that Mary is awesome, even if she is a virgin.
- the book: I read before the “see-no-evil” eye masks cloaks my eyes from the world around me. I helps turn my brain off and keeps me from being up all night scribbling in my journal. I mean literally just scratching random, non-cohesive hatch marks into my journal. It’s a terrible habit.
- alarm clock: I am an public radio news junky. The middle of my bed, left unmade because I do not believe in the practice of perfectly setting sheets to be mussed the very same day, happened to be the place that I received the best reception. It also functioned as a reminder that absolutely under no circumstances could I lie back down. Tired Shannon often tries to sabotage responsible, punctual Shannon. Tired Shannon must be stopped at all costs!!!
- wig on nightstand: I wish I had an elaborate story about sexy role play and spicing up “our” love life. That my partner gets all worked up when I tart up like Lady GaGa and show him my p-p-p-p-poker face. Or, perhaps, that I am having an affair so secret that I am hiding my identity from both the world and my lover alike. Not that I am currently striking out in the virtual and actual dating realms and am currently in drought season. Not that I bought it for a New Year’s Eve party, which I left before midnight to go home alone. Regardless, this year is new. I have plenty of time to the stuff previously mentioned. I had to work super early anyway. …
As previously stated, I am not sure what exactly this all implies about me, but it is something isn’t it?

2009 recap!

2009-12-31T09:38:00.000-08:00

In 2009, I reemerged and re-acclimated to American living. Since then, I go back and forth between loving and hating my little American life and several times have kicked around the idea of moving to España.
I saved my pennies.
I broke up with my boyfriend.
I took a trip to Roma/Venezia and Paris/Bordeaux. Then, took a 2 week road trip around España. It was a mega blast. I reconnected with my old friends from RUC and re-fell in love with Europe.
I came home with my bank account overdrawn and little-to-no work to speak of. I floundered financially and just was not able to make it work at Hilltop Yarn. So, I found a job at Starbucks. This was not an immediate fix, as my training store only gave me 20 hrs/week and was paying me nearly $2/hr less than my agreed upon wage. For another month, I struggled.
Now, here I am. I cashed out a 401K I had to get back on my feet financially. I am paying my rent w/o over drafting my account.
All-in-all, life is good. I have friends. I have food. I have comfort. I can't complain.

Be well. Do good work. Keep in touch.

bad date(s)

2009-12-30T22:55:00.000-08:00

there are many reasons why i am not ready to reemerge into the dating world. the ones at the forefront are:
the fact that i am recently out of a long-term relationship with a person with whom i still keep close contact--in fact, he is probably reading this right now. that makes for uncomfortable feelings around meeting a future ex-boyfriend. and...
the fact that i don't know what i want in my very near future. it is hard to anchor yourself to someone if you think you might be about to shuffle your life about.
however, in an effort to pass the time, i have signed up for an online dating site. this is my okcupid profile. you can go to it and tell me how datable i am, a perfect 10--really?!
what i have found so far, dating is hazardous to my health. First off, dating makes me stay up far too late on nights that i know i have to wake up early the next day and run the 1st starbucks. Second, bees. Third, apparently, dates make me catch a cold.
I had a brunch date with a man I met at a party. Indi, was nice enough at the party to warrant the release of my precious contact information. upon contact, he invited me to lunch at the B&O Espresso. I thought wonderful! I have history at this place. It is where I spent a good portion of my time upon landing in Seattle. I imagined being rushed with favorable memories.
I arrived a few minutes early--i shocked even myself be this fete. i ordered an espresso, as I had not yet had my morning cup of coffee and did not want to come across as a fiend, and read my book. As i watched a fly do what it does--fly--i thought quietly to myself, "gross." then, when i saw it land i was petrified and screamed silently in my head, "BEE!" I looked up for a friendly face on the wait staff to come and rescue me from my bee woes. i made eye contact with a familiar face, smiled out of habit, then scanned my brain for the file this face was in. i found it in the "short-term romantic stints with messy endings" file.
"FUCK!" Now I was trapped in my seat because, i'd rather get stung than have to force polite discussion with this guy. it didn't occur to me that a place with history might also have some residual baggage.
i read my book until i felt like i would burst, flinging the table over while frenetically shouting, "BEE! BEE! BEE!" then, i got up and urgently flagged down a waiter in the most low-key, casual manner i could muster.
The waiter gallantly squished him with his wet bar towel and announced, "dead." as he pulled the towel away, much to our chagrin, we realized not in fact dead. try #2 was also a failed attempt. then, he got more frantic. it turns out that he is allergic to bees. finally, the bees met its maker and i could safely return to my seat.
to make matters worse, i was sitting in the least enjoyable spot from an ambient perspective. the sun was looming just over my head. this made reading a dream. however, anyone who looked at me would immediately scrunch their face into a pained squint and quickly look away. it made me feel as though I looked like rocky dennis and my face resembled a lion.
After much ado, Indi showed up and we had a nice brunch. afterward, we wandered around volunteer park (including the green house and the Seattle Asian Art Museum). It was all good and dandy, but I suddenly became very tired.
The next day I awoke with a heinous cold. i blame dating. i don't think anything but stress and sickness will come out of venturing into date land, but am willing to be proven wrong.

Anti-Deodorant Dissertation

2009-12-01T22:13:00.000-08:00

I am not willing to come out and say that I am explicitly against deodorant. Quite the contrary. In fact, I find the idea amazing. I often ponder the person who came up with the idea and how they pitched it in their head. (Light bulb enters stage right and pauses for a brief moment before pulling its own string and turns itself on. Simultaneously, Dr. Jules Bernard Montenier let's out an audible "EUREKA!") All one need do is rub this magic salve under your arms and smell like a rose all day long. Some are strong enough for a man, but pH balanced for a woman. Others claim that anything else would be uncivilized. This is all good stuff. What I don’t like is the idea of cramming aluminum into my pores and calling it a day. The idea terrifies me. I know that there is "evidence" that a lot of these adverse health "findings" are totally "bogus." Still, the idea gives me a serious case of the wiggins, which is why I am a soley deodorant wearer. No aluminum for moi.
Now, if you are a woman who does not wish to use anti-perspirant, the deodorant endeavor becomes even more interesting. It is impossible to walk into any drug store and find what you need. Also, when I did, it was always baby powder scent. Have you smelt righteous BO mixed with baby powder? It’s like baby diarrhea to the nth degree. It is terrible. I have tried the various hippy brands and don’t get me started, don't even get me started. Now, I know why hippies smell. It's not the patch pants or the disdain of contributing to a market economy—it’s the effing deodorant! My compromise is to buy men’s deodorant. Only a few scents do I find truly repulsive on me and, incidentally, they are also the scents I find repulsive on men. Musk is the number one turn off. If I smell a musky underarm I get to packing. Generally, I am a speed stick girl. However, lately, the original has been letting me down. So, in an attempt to reduce my stank factor, I decided to try the irish spring inspired scents. The first one was a hit. I smelled faintly of soap and water. It was awesome. Then, I got cocky. If one in this scent line was good they must all be, right? WRONG. The Speed Stick Irish Spring Icy Blast smells like leprechaun taint. Everytime I lift my arm I think I am smelling the sweaty under carriage of a lumberjack. I get someone else to smell me and they say they smell cologne. It is enough to drive a sistah crazy. Now, I am forced to wash shirts after every wear that I might otherwise wear 2-3 times between washes.
It is for this reason that I find myself in a frenetic state--head to the wall, fists pounding and cursing the man who started it all: Dr. Jules Bernard Montenier. Damn you straight to hell, mister.

i've got my spine, i've got my orange crush

2009-11-22T10:20:00.000-08:00

Last night I had a dream. It was not a profound dream in the vein of the late, great Martin Luther King, Jr. It was not a dream to live on the lips of men for all of eternity. No one will call me noble or nominate me to a panel of experts for praise in my field. In fact, I cannot even think of a very good reason to share my dream with anyone. It borders on Mundane, the capitol city of Trite.
In the aforementioned dream, my family had disowned me--cast me out onto the streets. I didn't know where to go or what to do. So, I decided to walk to my uncle's house. A geographical impossibility because he lives in California. Also, an impossibility of vanity, because he lives in suburban Orange County--Placentia, CA to be exact.
On my walk, made impossible by vanity and logistics, I passed by a house with a yard full of cats about to be euthanized. Just then, the person who [suddenly] appeared as my travel accompaniment up until the present told the proprietor of the establishment that we would take one. We would? The woman grabbed a broken cat transporter and a collar with harness and I begrudgingly picked out a cat. I found the smallest, cutest, orangest one with the biggest eyes, most full of love. I brought her home, which was a fête because she kept slipping out of her broken carrier box and refused to be held. So, I walked her on the leash.
I got her to my uncle's house and my other cats were there waiting. Julia, of course, wanted nothing to do with her and Fernando, of course, seemed enamored by her orangeness. He kept walking next to her and stopping to roll over and lie down at her feet. This is what I expect Fernando to do in real life if he ever perchanced to meet an orange lady cat.
By the end of our exodus, the little lady seemed hungry. So, I gave her a dish of an orange juice, orange sherbet, and orange crush concoction. She lapped it up ravenously and, then, I awoke to my cats snuggled lovingly against me on the bed. It's enough to make me not want to leave the house.

personalized nameplates...freak name validation

2009-11-21T22:59:00.000-08:00

I am just going to come out and say it. I am obsessed with name-personalized products. You know the ones. The overpriced tins of breath mints that read “Beverly” in a faux Las Vegas Marquis, as though the big attraction in Vegas is “Beverly” and not the seedy brothels or tasseled-nipple night club acts passing as talent like a tart in an evening gown passes as elegant.

The obsession began when I was a child. I could easily pass this off on my mother. It’s her fault. She bought be these little trinkets whenever we were on vacation, which enable me to become obsessed with my name and, in turn, become obsessed with myself. This would be easy, because can’t we blame most things on our mothers? Her two ex chromosomes carry more genetic burden than my fathers wimpy ex why combination, one might say on the playground to another child or recess attendant. But, no, this burden is not my mother’s burden to bear. No, in fact, it is mine and mine alone.

Growing up I HATED my name. I absolutely hated it. I went through kindergarten and the better part of 1^st grade having never met another Shannon—not a single one. I often thought to myself, “why can’t I have a normal name like Jennifer, Jessica, or Amy? There are like five of each in my class? My parents had to go and name me something weird. I’m not even Irish.” Then, I met my first Shannon—it was a boy. I was mortified and heartbroken all at the same time. My dad gave me a boy’s name because he wanted a son! Oh, woe is I! I didn’t meet another Shannon until high school. My name was a freakish boy name that no normal parent would want to name his or her child.

So, when I would be in a souvenir shop and see a sheet of sparkley, rainbow stickers that had my freak name printed all over them, I would feel somewhat validated. See world?!?! My name is normal! This inflated sense of euphoria would be immediately dashed the next time I had to explain that my name was not, in fact, Sharon. That name is even worse than my real name.

So, that is where the obsession came from. Whenever I have a lay over in an airport, I always look for name personalized item. I still have that sense of validation when I get my notepads that say, “A message from Shannon.” I will often pick things up for friends, to let them know I think their name is valid and completely normal, too. Also, I have gotten better at enunciating my name upon being introduced to someone. No one calls me Sharon anymore.

the honeymoon is over...

2009-11-19T16:55:00.000-08:00

I like to call the beginning of fall the honeymoon period of the autumn/winter time of year in Seattle.
The leaves on the trees are lush and full of the changing colors of the season. There is a hint of a chill and the whisper of rain in the air. People laugh about their state of inappropriate dress and lovers cling to each other as they mosey down the sidewalk that has only begun to collect leaves from the friendly trees lining the street. Shopfronts and shop keepers seem inviting. Cocoa, curling up with a good book, warm baths, and fire seem delightful, especially when combined with a loved one/intimate partner. There is a hopeful optimism about the things to come and people seem genuinely happy. Kids happily kick around a can amid the drizzle, the clanking and the laughter comforting reminders of the impending holiday season--a time for togetherness. [deep sigh] life is good.
Well, that period is over.
The trees that line the streets are mostly naked. At best, they look cold and mean. There is no hinting nor whispering about the cold and the rain. It is wet and freezing everywhere. No one is carefree or giggling about their inability to dress for the weather. People are pissed at themselves and they are hating life. More importantly, they are despising the limp, lifeless leaves dejected from their angry trees that have since collected, turned to mush, and have taken over the sidewalks as well as the storm drains; making it so that cars that swish by manage to splash pedestrians as they come toppling to the ground after sliding on that pile of leaves they found endearing just the month before. It almost seems like an ambush, sabotage, or mutiny. Lovers are not clinging to one another and no one is moseying down the lane. Shopfronts and shop keepers become bothersome as all anyone wants to do is go home and go to bed. Heaven help the poor loved one/or intimate partner this person is coming home to. This person gets the joying of bearing the brunt of the frustration. They don't understand what has been endured in the day, nor do they care, and why won't those stupid kids go inside and shut the H311 up!?! Anxiety is high as anticipation ramps up for the holiday season--the hustle, bustle, and head aching stress. No one is happy and life sucks.
I think that is why Pilgrims were so smart to decimate leagues of Indians when they did and Jesus had enough foresight to be born during this season. Because of this, amid the seasonal affective disorder, we have two wonderful holidays to be together and pretend to tolerate each others' company. I truly believe that if it weren't for these two holidays there would be higher incidences of homicide and assault during November and December in Seattle.
The honeymoon is over, but alas there is hope.
Be well, Do good work, and Keep in touch.

Devoted Readers

2009-11-18T21:32:00.000-08:00

I feel like it has been about/at least a year since I have written down anything at all and possibly longer since I have blogged/ranted/what-have-you. I will not succumb to the temptation to bore you with the insignificant details of my mundane life. Because, when it really comes down to it, I have been keeping my plate full with empty calories. My life plate has been seriously lacking sustenance. This is probably why I have avoided creative endeavors. My life is lacking inspiration. Without inspiration, there can be no creation. I have been going through the motions because I am afraid to deal with a life in transition. Best not to be bothered with instability. Better to avoid and hope it all smooths over. I am unsure how this can be considered living? I know that I am alive because I can see the steam of my breath against the mirror. But, I don't see the twinkle in my eye that used to be there for all occasions. So, even if it is better to make myself into a small ball and let life run over my back like tepid bath water, I will face the rocky turmoil of change. In nature, the most constant growth of a forest happens after the devastation of a fire. The little critters scurry away for a time, but return to a lush budding and burgeoning habitat. Within this girl a fire does burn. I will no longer try to contain it with controlled burns and prescribed fires. Instead, I will walk through the fire, because where else can I turn? The woodland creatures of my heart may seek refuge from me for a time. One by one they will turn from me, but will return to find me rejuvenated, full of life, and creation. I will be happy and I will do what I need to make myself whole. I will fall in love with life, fall in love with myself, and soon you will love me, too.
This is where I will pick up my written journey and hope that people have not written me off as ignoble or irrelevant [YET]. Thank you for peaking in from time-to-time and back to your regularly scheduled program...

Driver Safety Tip #1001

2008-08-04T12:54:00.000-07:00

this story begins on Sat, Aug 2nd for purely anecdotal intents and purposes.
Harpo and I, for reasons mundane enough to omit, had to bus up to queen anne to bike up my bike. We were on the Route 3/4. If you look at the map, you'll see that from 3rd avenue the northbound 3/4 turn right onto Cedar Avenue. Typically, this is a fairly uneventful portion of the trip. Obviously, if this was the case on Saturday, I wouldn't bother to mention. However, luckily for everybody something out of the blue occurred. I did not see all of the events as they came to fruition, but Harpo saw some and I saw others. As we were en route down cedar a woman in her car decided not to notice her red light in time to miss the bus passing in front of her. She appeared to try and stop, because she slowed down substantially before hitting us. However, the regular sounds of brakes and tires locking and swerving were not to be heard. She hit the articulated bus dead in the center. The bus driver stopped, quite freaked out and shouted: "What just happened? My light was green right?" I turned around in time to see the light we had just driven through turn yellow and then red. It was interesting, because I didn't really have any idea that a car hit the bus for a minute or so, because the entire incident was rather quite and from inside the bus it just seemed like we maybe bumped a shopping cart.
I couldn't tell if the woman in her car got immediately onto her cell phone or if she had been on it the whole time, but the moral of the story is hang up and drive!

some explanations

2008-07-08T23:40:00.000-07:00

WARNING!!! THIS POST IS A TOTAL DOWNER!
Here is an excerpt from a post I wrote earlier in the year:

"...most importantly, I fell in love. this was quite a shock, because I was convinced that love was a cliche novelty that didn't go with any of my shoes. Fortunately, love brought shoes with him! my insecurity about relationships seems to be dissolved. and my disdain for man almost completely gone as well. this is a good feeling and Harpo is a good man."

Harpo is still a good man, he's just not my man anymore. There was good reason for calling the relationship quits, though I can't remember it right now. Right now I am trying to figure out what makes me hard to show affection to? At what point my company becomes something to be taken for granted? And whether there was someone who was more desirable? Basically, I'm driving myself crazy and crying most minutes of most days.

So, that is why the things mentioned in the previous post make me sad. They are all things that I know Harpo needs and things I shouldn't be thinking about anymore.

boo hoo

crap!

2008-07-03T11:56:00.000-07:00

i just got my LSAT score and it sucks!
150! That is an 8-point drop from my practice tests!
I'll need to retake it while I'm in Denamrk.
What a pain in the ass.

pad sanda

2008-07-01T22:42:00.000-07:00

the only things that make me sad these days are basting brushes, butter dishes, and facial moisturizers.

spic n' span

2008-06-26T13:43:00.000-07:00

After the whirlwind that was the end of the quarter/ beginning of the month for me, there were many things left to be tidied. I have occupied a sufficient amount of time with couch sitting and channel surfing. My cousin will be in town this weekend for a wedding, so I decided that today was probably a pretty good day to pick up around the house. (I have a bag of charcoal sitting next to my bed. that seems a little ridiculous to me.)

Anyway, my first order of business was to tackle the shoe closet. No, it is not a closet comprised solely of shoes. No pun intended. Yes, it is a closet comprised mostly of shoes. I got a new shoe rack to accommodate my shoe overflow issues. Note that I did not scale back on shoes nor did I stop purchasing them. The shoe rack has been sitting in the hallway waiting to be put in its new home. I put it in the closet, put the mess of shoes onto it, and now the closet is way less of a scary shoe monster.
However, while I was cleaning I picked up a bead and began to think to myself, "gee wiz, that sure is a funny place to find a bead." Then after closer inspection my thoughts quickly switched to, "What the F#@%? Why the hell is there a tooth in my closet?!?" Who's tooth is it and how did it get there?

Truth be told, it could be one of mine. I have a collection of most of the teeth I've had ripped out of my face in my lifetime. I keep saying that one day I'll make jewelry out of them. Incidentally, it's been awhile since I've seen that little tin o' teeth. Hopefully, the cats haven't opened it and swallowed any. That would make me sad a little.

Hmmm...

2008-06-24T18:40:00.000-07:00

I'm feeling reflective.
It's weird to sit down and realize that in the last week everything about my life is different.
I suppose everything changes and all good things must come to an end, what goes up must come down, etc...
Anyway, it still seems odd when face-to-face with such big changes.
Good thing humans acclimate to change quickly.

It's oh so quiet

2008-06-18T18:06:00.000-07:00

Well it has been on this blog for the last two months anyway. Not so much in my life.
I can say that adventure has been absent in my life, but stress has been plentiful. I won't bore you with the details. I will simply mention that I ended the quarter with a perfect 4.0 GPA, ended my University of Washington career with a cum GPA of 3.91. (not perfect, but not bad). As well, I took the LSAT test.

WEEE! I find out my score in a couple of weeks. I am predicting a score of 155. Not low enough to suck, but not high enough to ensure law school victory. Just enough to be perfectly mediocre.
My plans for the summer include:
taking beginning Danish. I know how to say "thanks for the meal," but I feel i should know more before i spend 3.5 months in Denmark.

finishing up wedding gift knitting

taking banjo lessons

and depending on lessons, buying a banjo.

I'll keep you posted on my progress. Also, let me know if you know someone who would like to be my tour guide while in Copenhagen.
Farvel!

Flickr Game

2008-06-18T17:13:00.000-07:00

I kifed this from my friend, OwlandAcorn.

the concept:
a. type your answer to each of the questions below into Flickr Search.
b. using only the first page, pick an image.
c. copy and paste each of the URLs for the images into fd’s mosaic maker.

The Questions:
1. What is your first name?
2. What is your favorite food?
3. What high school did you go to?
4. What is your favorite color?
5. Who is your celebrity crush?
6. Favorite drink?
7. Dream vacation?
8. Favorite dessert?
9. What you want to be when you grow up?
10. What do you love most in life?
11. One Word to describe you.
12. Your flickr name.

Check out my Flickr page to see the links!

sometimes i remember

2008-04-13T01:15:00.000-07:00

I don't remember anything very often. However, sometimes I remember why I moved to Seattle.
For the most part, it is because I feel safe. But safe is no cause for celebration, rather it is dull and I'm not interested in it.
It's not really the most bike-friendly place and most of the people think they are better than me. It makes me laugh, too.
However, as I battled drunk traffic on my bike on my way home from gay bingo tonight, a man ran into the street and flashed me his tata's.

it was great. I could not help but smile and laugh. it made my night and i could tell my response made his.
would this interaction happen in Manhattan? or Worchester? i think not.
everyone can suck it, cuz seattle is my home

a gift for we!

2008-04-09T18:13:00.000-07:00

earlier this today, i signed up for owl and acorn's pay it forward exchange. the idea is that she sends me, and two others, something in the next year, and in return, i pay it forward by doing the same. so here's the game:

“The idea of the exchange is I will send a handmade gift to the first 3 people who leave a comment on this blog post requesting to join this PIF exchange. I don’t know what that gift will be yet, and you may not receive it tomorrow or next week, but you will receive it within 365 days, that is my promise! The only thing you have to do in return is pay it forward by making the same promise on your blog.”

so...anyone up for it? due to recent stress on my pocketbook, i'm going to limit this to u.s. people only. first three who speak up will get something fun from me!

UW Women Studies Computer Lab

2008-04-07T10:34:00.000-07:00

The Women Studies department at the University of Washington is planning to close its undergraduate computer lab. This is one of the few places afforded to undergraduate feminist scholarship. If you agree that this is a bad thing, sign the petition!

Thank you

Another one bites the dust

2008-03-19T10:35:00.000-07:00

On Friday, I will be another year closer to meeting my maker, or becoming a desperate person. I'm not quite sure which. I believe the fog of sobriety to be clouding my judgement. In hindsight, I should have given up fried food for Lent.

This past year has taught me many things:
1. heterosexual relationships do not have to be locations of oppression. This was a long lesson for this feminazi.
2. Racism is alive and ill. It is also very important to me, not to maintain, but to created discussions about it. Ignoring it won't make it go away. Also, discussions about racism and white privilege need to be careful not to essentialize or otherize. this defeats the purpose.
3. Diabetes and high blood pressure are serious risk factors for me and I need to make extreme life changes to address these risks. My dad has pre-diabetes and high blood pressure. Health risks are scary and dismissible when they are outside of the immediate family, but when they cross that line they get really freaky. I will be expending a lot of energy to reduce my risks.
4. School is hard. There are so many commitments tied to school. If you are planning to advance beyond your bachelor's degree you need to volunteer, head committees, and engage in extracurricular activities. Then you need to attend to work and your social life where no one may understand all the pressure you face. It kinda sucks, but is well worth it anyway.
5. IUDs are super terrific happy fun time. I have had mine for two academic quarters and have not had any adverse side effects. Penny and I are very happy and plan to be for a long, long time. Yay no babies!!!
6. I need to make time and funds available for therapy. There are things in my life that I have a hard time dealing with that I need to get over, because they are essentially part of life. Germs, living with people, stress, etc... Having a therapist might facilitate attaining the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, the courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference.

I think that is all I have got for this year's life lessons. If you want to help celebrate the accomplishments of my wisdom, come to the Summit Public House on March 21, AKA Transnational Shannon Day! Be there at drinking time and come equipped with the means to buy me a drink.

Cheers!

Seattle vigil

2008-03-06T11:44:00.000-08:00

On February 12th, 2008, 15-year-old Lawrence King was shot and killed at E.O. Green School in Oxnard, California.

A fellow student (aged 14 years old) came into their school's computer lab and shot Lawrence "Larry" twice in the back of his head.

A few weeks prior to the shooting, Lawrence had publicly come out at his school for being gay and endured much harassment every where that he went. He had asked the boy who shot him to be his valentine not realizing that it would be the death of him. The main group of students that harassed him were the shooter and his friends.

Would you kill someone just because you didn't want to be their valentine?

He'll never graduate. He'll never learn how to drive. He'll never get his own job. His family and friends won't ever get to see him again..

..Just because someone couldn't handle his differences.

This is an action alert to advise you that on Sunday, March 9 at 5:15pm,
after the Safe Schools Coalition's viewing and discussion of "It's Still
Elementary" at the Broadway Performance Hall from 2pm-5pm (visit
Safe Schools Coalition for more information!!), GLSEN Washington
State, in a partnership with ACTION Northwest, there will be a
candlelight vigil in honor of Lawrence, and other youth that have been killed due their sexual orientation and/or gender identity.
The vigil will be held in front of the Broadway Performance Hall, 1625
Broadway, Seattle, WA 98122.

Scheduled speakers currently include Commissioner Jerry Hebert from the
Washington State Human Rights Commission. Stay tuned to GLSEN Washington State for the latest information on who is scheduled to speak.

If you would like to volunteer to set up for the event, they could use the
help! Contact either David Hildebrand at dave@glsenwa.org or Joe Bento at
joe@glsenwa.org.

Let your light for safe zones shine.

Coffee Talk

2008-03-05T10:53:00.000-08:00

Let's take a break from political pandering. I can't assume all eyes are on the United states Democratic race, but it is neck and neck and talk of sharing the ticket has begun. So, really the decision seems to be about who will be the headliner of the show. With that said a break is in order.
As some of you many know, I like to spotlight parts of the world that take an interest in my blog in a series I am calling, "This is your life."
Well, Brno, this is yours...

Brno (IPA: [ˈbr̩.no] (help·info); German: Brünn) is the second-largest city in the Czech Republic. It was founded in 1243 although the area had been settled since the 5th century. Today Brno has over 380,000 inhabitants and is the seat of the Constitutional Court of the Czech Republic, Supreme Court, and Supreme Prosecutor's Office.

Geography
Brno is located in the southeast part of the country, at the confluence of the Svitava and Svratka rivers. The city is a political and cultural hub of the South Moravian Region (estimated population of 1,130,000 for the whole region). At the same time, it represents the centre of the province of Moravia, one of the historic lands of the Czech Crown. It is situated at the crossroads of ancient trade routes which have joined northern and southern European civilizations for centuries. Due to its location between the Bohemian-Moravian Highlands and the Southern Moravian lowlands, Brno has a moderate climate.

History
Brno as such was acknowledged to be a town in 1243 by Václav I, King of Bohemia, but the area itself had been settled since the 5th century. From the 11th century, a castle of the governing Přemyslid dynasty stood here, and was the seat of the non-ruling prince.

During the mid-14th century Brno became one of the centers for the Moravian regional assemblies, whose meetings alternated between Brno and Olomouc. These regional authority organs made decisions on political, legal, and financial questions. They were also responsible for the upkeep of regional records.

During the Hussite Wars, the city remained faithful to King Zikmund. The Hussites twice laid siege to the city, once in 1428 and again in 1430, both times in vain.

During the Thirty Years' War, in 1643 and 1645, Brno was the only city to successfully defend itself from Swedish sieges, thereby allowing the Austrian Empire to reform their armies and to repel the Swedish pressure. In recognition of its services, the city was rewarded with a renewal of its city privileges. In the years following the Thirty Years' War, the city became an impregnable baroque fortress. In 1742, the Prussians vainly attempted to conquer the city, and the position of Brno was confirmed with the establishment of a bishopric in 1777.

In the 18th century, development of industry and trade began to take place, which continued into the next century. Soon after the industrial revolution, the town became one of the industrial centres of Moravia — sometimes it even being called the Czech Manchester. In 1839, the first train arrived in Brno. Together with the development of industry came the growth of the suburbs, and the city lost its fortifications, as did the Spielberg fortress, which became a notorious prison to where not only criminals were sent, but also political opponents of the Austrian Empire. Gas lighting was introduced to the city in 1847 and a tram system in 1869. Mahen Theatre in Brno was the first building in the world to use Edison's electric lamps.

During the "First Republic" (1918 - 1938) Brno continued to gain importance — it was during this period that Masaryk University was established (1919), the state armory (Československá Statni Zbrojovka Brno) was established (1919), and the Brno Fairgrounds were opened in 1928 with an exhibition of contemporary culture. The city was not only a centre of industry and commerce, but also of education and culture. Famous people who lived and worked in the city include Gregor Mendel, Leoš Janáček, Viktor Kaplan, Jiří Mahen, and Bohuslav Fuchs.

In 1939 Brno was annexed by Nazi Germany along with the rest of Moravia and Bohemia. After the war, the ethnic German population of approximately 270,000 was expelled.

Brno today

The Augustinian Abbey of St Thomas, Brno.
St. Peter and Paul Cathedral
Courtyard of the Špilberk Castle
Gate of the Old City Hall
Dominikánská Street in the city centre
Villa Tugendhat
Brno Exhibition CenterBrno Exhibition Center, established in 1928, is the city's premier attraction for international business visitors. Annually, over 1 million visitors attend over 40 professional trade fairs and business conferences held here. In 2007, the center hosted the 14th Meeting of Central European Presidents, and a Rolling Stones concert. Exhibition and convention industry contributes heavily to the region’s economy, while 90% of Czech population associate Brno with trade shows. Thanks to its excellent infrastructure with modern facilities, Brno Exhibition Center has a prominent position in the region. Therefore, Brno can be nicknamed the capital of trade fairs of Central Europe.
Masaryk University, located in Brno, is the second biggest public university-type school in the Czech Republic and the first in Moravia. Today, it consists of nine faculties, more than 190 departments, institutes and clinics. It is recognised as one of the most significant institutions of education and research in the Czech Republic and a respected Central Europe university with democratic traditions advocated since its establishment in 1919.
Špilberk Castle is one of the principal monuments, as is the Cathedral of St. Peter and Paul, also known as Petrov. The cathedral was built during the 14th and 15th centuries. Its bells ring noon at 11 a.m., a tradition since the siege by the Swedes in 1645.
The town has a long history of motor racing. The first races were run as a checkpoint for the Vienna – Breslau race in 1904; in the 1920s, the town hosted the Brno – Soběšice hillclimb race; and in the 1930s, all races were held on the street course called Masaryk Circuit which led through the streets of the western part of the town and neighbouring villages, such as Bosonohy and Žebětín. A series of Czechoslovakian Grand Prix was held from 1930 to 1935, in 1937 and also once after the war, in 1949. Since 1968, Brno has been a permament fixture on the European Touring Car Championship (ETCC) series, and has held motorcycle races since 1965. The road course ceased to be used at the end of 1986 when all motorsport activities resumed at the new permanent Masaryk Circuit, which was completed in 1985 in the northwest section of the town. Among other events, it hosts the Moto GP series. The Czech Moto Grand Prix in 2006 was won by Loris Capirossi.
Ignis Brunensis, an international fireworks competition, is held each June. The show attracts more than 200,000 spectators regularly.
Villa Tugendhat, a unique example of modern functionalistic architecture, designed by Mies van der Rohe and built in the late 1920s close to the centre of the city, was designated a World Heritage Site by UNESCO in 2002. Another renowned architect who changed significantly the modern shape of Brno was Arnošt Wiesner. Many of his functionalistic buildings can be found all around the city.
In the 1990s, after more than 70 years of discussion, the city council decided to build a new main train station farther from the centre of the town and to develop a more modern area of the town, which is currently occupied by train track. This plan has been criticised for its possible economical and ecological consequences. The whole Brno railway junction is to be reconstructed, which is very complicated due to its 170 years of development since the first train came to Brno from Vienna in 1839. The construction is projected to finish in 2017. After municipal elections in autumn 2006 this project has been put on hold by new city leadership and it appears that an upgraded main station in the city center will be reconsidered.
The Brno University of Technology, established in 1899, has been developing the Czech Technology Park since 1995.
Every September, Brno is home to a large wine festival (Slavnosti vína) to celebrate the harvest in the surrounding wine-producing region. [1]
Hantec is a unique dialect that originated in Brno, however most peoples' knowledge of it is restricted to a few words.
Brno is the home to the highest courts in the Czech judiciary. The Supreme Court is on Burešova Street, the Supreme Administrative Court is on Moravské náměstí (English: Moravian Square), and the Constitutional Court is on Joštova Street. This makes Brno a second capital of the Czech Republic — or would, if the constitution didn't define the capital as being solely Prague. Thus, Brno might be thought of as the "capital of the judicial branch of government" in the Czech Republic.

So, relax, kick your shoes of and take a visit.
Brno: for a day or a lifetime

(thank you to wikipedia. Without it this post would not have been possible.)

University of Washington study abroad opportunity!!

2008-03-03T11:00:00.000-08:00

Roskilde, Denmark, Autumn 2008

Race, Gender, and Nation: Immigration in Denmark and the United States
(Program dates: August 30, 2008 - December 15, 2008 -- 24 Credits
Sponsored by The Comparative History of Ideas Department)
A recent study named Denmark the happiest place on earth. That people in Denmark report a high degree of happiness isn’t surprising, given widespread economic prosperity and extensive government-funded healthcare, education and social service programs. Denmark is also a beautiful country—bounded by white sand beaches and fishing ports on all sides and filled with sprawling castles and parks and distinctively Danish modern art, architecture and design. But happiness isn’t the only thing that has recently put Denmark on the map. A set of cartoons of the Prophet Mohammad first published in a Danish newspaper in 2006 sparked protests across Europe and the Middle East over the unequal treatment of Muslim immigrants in Denmark as symbolic of their treatment around the world. And a country that has historically been defined by progressive politics and inclusivity is increasingly shutting its doors to immigrants; largely through the rise in power of a nationalist radical right party that is working to restrict Denmark’s public resources to ’ethnic Danes’ alone.

As in Denmark, immigration is currently a topic of widespread public discussion and concern in the United States. The U.S. Congress has been debating major immigration reforms, the U.S./Mexico border is increasingly fortified and militarized in the name of Homeland Security, and immigrant communities and families across the country are being split apart through detention and deportations. At the same time, unprecedented numbers of immigrants have been resisting their treatment by the U.S. government, employers, and everyday people as they march for immigrant rights and a path to citizenship.

Program Description
The interplay of race, gender and nation is paid little attention in popular and scholarly analyses of Danish and U.S. immigration. As the University of Washington’s first explicitly feminist study abroad program, this program will center the roles that race, gender and nation play in images and stories of immigration in Denmark and the United States in the context of contemporary inequalities of globalization.

Students enrolled in the program will live and take classes at Roskilde University (www.ruc.dk), which is 25 minutes by train from Denmark’s capital, Copenhagen. Regular program excursions to museums, neighborhoods and public and private organizations in Copenhagen and Roskilde will supplement students’ work in the classroom. All students will also work together to produce group projects that explore some aspect of race, gender, nation and immigration in the U.S. and/or Denmark. Students will have the opportunity to complete these projects in collaboration with public or non-governmental organizations. These projects could culminate in a long research paper, but students will also be encouraged to take a creative approach to the projects that incorporates, for example, visual art, literature, and/or documentary films.

Students will prepare for the study abroad program during Spring 2008 with a required 2 credit non-graded pre-departure seminar (CHID 496). This seminar will focus on feminist perspectives on race, gender and globalization and group learning in the context of study abroad. Study abroad in Denmark will begin August 30 and end December 15 2008.
This program is open to students from all backgrounds. All students are encouraged to apply.

Curriculum
Students will receive between 20 and 25 total UW credits in Women Studies or CHID for the following:
1. Roskilde University Cultural Encounters program core course (September 8 to October 3)
2. “Images and Stories of Immigration” thematic course (October 6 to November 7)
3. Students’ choice of one of three other Cultural Encounters thematic courses on ethnicity, nationalism, identity, religion and culture (October 6 to November 7)
4. Participation in program outings and assignments outside the classroom
5. Completion of group projects

Language Study
Students are strongly encouraged to take some Danish classes before or during the program. Options for doing this include:
1. Coming to Denmark two weeks before the program begins to take part in Roskilde’s introductory course for international students, which includes an introduction to Denmark and Roskilde’s unique approach to teaching and learning as well as introductory Danish lessons. The course runs from August 13 to August 27, 9:30 am to 2 pm every weekday. (Students would have to pay an additional cost--approximately $500 US--for this introductory course.)
2. Taking Danish classes at Roskilde Fall semester during the program
Note: students will receive additional credit for language study.

Details:
go to the CHID International page
Questions? Contact Laura Hart Newton: lnewlon@gmail.com

lights, camera, action!

2008-02-19T19:14:00.000-08:00

1. Pick 10 of your favorite movies.
2. Go to IMDb and find a quote from each movie.
3. Post them here for everyone to guess.
4. Strike it out when someone guesses correctly, and put who guessed it and the movie.
5. Looking them up is cheating, please don't.

Can you guess mine?
1. "I'm ready to quit this dump, I really am. Ray won't let me wear my glasses on stage, then Ian gets pissed because I can't do any of the tricks, I mean I'm only legally blind. I could understand if I wanted to wear my glasses on my tits, but nobody in this dump is looking at my face anyway." Desperately Seeking Susan. Go Kat Go!
2. "Fair! WHO'S THE FUCKING NIHILIST HERE! WHAT ARE YOU, A BUNCH OF FUCKING CRYBABIES?" the big lebowski. Cousin Coquette
3. "Sometimes there's things more important than pit beef."
4. "Have you ever had two people look at you, with complete lust and devotion, through the same pair of eyes?" Being John Malkovich Martine
5. "Look out the window. And doesn't this remind you of when you were in the boat, and then later than night, you were lying, looking up at the ceiling, and the water in your head was not dissimilar from the landscape, and you think to yourself, 'Why is it that the landscape is moving, but the boat is still?'"
6. "Only grown-up men are scared of women."
7. "You know, Mr. Bernstein, if I hadn't been very rich, I might have been a really great man."
8. "Look. They drummed you right outta Hollywood! So ya come crawlin' back to Broadway. Well, Broadway doesn't go for booze and dope."
9. "What's the most you ever lost on a coin toss."
10. "I knew this girl who like had this crazy freak out because she took too many behavioral meds at once and she like ripped off her clothes, and dove into the fountain at Ridgedale Mall and was like, 'Blah I am a Kracken from the sea!'"Juno Kat again

The Unanswered Movies
3. Pecker
5. Dead Man
6. The Sound of Music
7. Citizen Kane
8. Valley of the Dolls
9. No Country for Old Men

Ta Da

2008-02-14T13:53:00.001-08:00

Happy V-Day, Singles Awareness Day, Happy "anything but Valentine's" day
Today is a bright, sunny day. Not so damn cold as we've seen in these parts as of late. Tomorrow is the beginning of a long weekend of doing nothing with my lover Harpo. I am hoping it also marks the end of peak flow season for the month. Because when we're not busy doing nothing, I want us to be busy doing it. ha ha.
Anyway, we're going on a secret trip. so, I will not disclose any details for fear that this is the one time Harpo reads my blog.
I'm going to import a list from last year, because I feel the topic is timeless. "Better ways to dedicate your time than with the empty tokens of Valentine's Day"
My suggestions include:
1. name a pinata after an ex-partner. the difference between the pinata and your ex is that there is actually sweetness inside a pinata.
2. for every nice thing you say to a single person, say 5 not-so-nice things to that obnoxious couple ahead of you in line for [insert errand here]. you know who they are: "no i love you more, schmoopy." (or just go out of your way to do something really nice. like when you're buying your local homeless-run newspaper, like i know you were already planning on doing anyway, give them an extra dollar.)
3. fly a kite and/or catch raindrops on your tongue (these are climate-based suggestions).
4. get a foot and/or hand massage. whether you're a man or a woman, your hands and feet work hard and deserve to be treated.
5. replace one green vegetable in your meals with dessert all day, and if you were already planning on eating dessert--double dessert!!
6. just get rid of that box of letters already! (oh, you certainly do know what I'm talking about! ::snap, snap::)
7. part your hair on the opposite side, so you can see how you look to other people.
8. learn the alphabet in a foreign language (or learn the alphabet of your native tongue)
9. try a new food you always thought you would hate, but this time do it pretending you've always thought you'd love it. (this is especially good for people IN relationships to do w/o their significant other. this is good because there isn't anyone there to say "i knew you'd like it!" it can be your little secret).
10. get ridiculously dressed up and go to the grocery store. you'll feel like a celebrity--everyone will stop and look at you.

Just an aside, I parted my hair on the opposite side. I completely forgot it was on my list. Isn't that just a total gas?

V-day

2008-02-13T20:10:00.000-08:00

I mentioned Vday in my previous post and realized that some people might not be familiar with it. If this is the case, you are on the wrong blog. For the sake of information dissemination here is the run down.

Mission:
V-Day is an organized response against violence toward women.
V-Day is a vision: We see a world where women live safely and freely.
V-Day is a demand: Rape, incest, battery, genital mutilation and sexual slavery must end now.
V-Day is a spirit: We believe women should spend their lives creating and thriving rather than surviving or recovering from terrible atrocities.
V-Day is a catalyst: By raising money and consciousness, it will unify and strengthen existing anti-violence efforts. Triggering far-reaching awareness, it will lay the groundwork for new educational, protective, and legislative endeavors throughout the world.
V-Day is a process: We will work as long as it takes. We will not stop until the violence stops.
V-Day is a day. We proclaim Valentine's Day as V-Day, to celebrate women and end the violence.

History
V-Day was born in 1998 as an outgrowth of Eve Ensler's Obie-Award winning play, "The Vagina Monologues." As Eve performed the piece in small towns and large cities all around the world, she saw and heard first hand the destructive personal, social, political and economic consequences violence against women has for many nations.

Hundreds of women told her their stories of rape, incest, domestic battery and genital cutting. It was clear that something widespread and dramatic needed to be done to stop the violence. A group of women in New York joined Eve and founded V-Day . . . a catalyst, a movement, a performance.

V-Day’s mission is simple. It demands that the violence must end. It proclaims Valentine’s Day as V-Day until the violence stops. When all women live in safety, no longer fearing violence or the threat of violence, then V-Day will be known as Victory Over Violence Day.
This year V-Day celebrates it's 10th Anniversary on Feb 14th. It exciting that it is still going strong, but sad under the same token.

Facing Resistance
"The struggle is the change." - Eve Ensler

When Eve Ensler first performed The Vagina Monologues in 1996, the word 'vagina' was met with controversy and discomfort. Radio stations refused to say vagina on air, TV stations ran entire segments on the play without mention of the word and newspapers hid under the safety of abbreviation. Eight years later the word vagina is spoken openly on TV and radio and printed freely in papers and magazines all over the world. At times, however, there remains a degree of controversy surrounding V-Day benefit productions of The Vagina Monologues and they occasionally receive resistance from within the communities and colleges where they are held. This resistance however, in a unique way creates the awareness that V-Day strives for with every production. The mission of V-Day is to end violence against women and girls, to break the silence, to make people aware of the violence that affects one in three women in the US and throughout the world. V-Day benefits that are attacked, whether for religious, social or political reasons and regardless of the outcome succeed in this mission. By generating media coverage and starting a worldwide dialogue, controversy and resistance to the V-Day benefit productions of The Vagina Monologues has proven to be part of the very change V-Day seeks.

Violence
Violence against women and girls is widespread - one woman in three will experience violence during her lifetime, most often at the hands of someone she knows.
violence glossary
In order to fully understand the depth, scope and viciousness of violence against women around the world, V-Day has compiled a glossary of the most common faces of violence.
anti-violence resources
Resources for people who are experience violence in their lives, or know someone who is experiencing violence
violence against women statistics
Numerous studies and reports have resulted in equally numerous statistics. Violence against women is a serious problem plaguing the world’s women and girls.

What is your part? V-Action List. You can help end violence against women and girls in your community. Simple concrete steps can change the world.

This goes along with my mission to replace Valentine's as a holiday. Thank goodness for options!

What is...?

2008-02-11T08:35:00.000-08:00

What is feminism to me?
Feminism is a commitment to the deconstruction of gendered norms which are produced and are oppressive in function. De Beauvoir echoed this sentiment when she said, “one is not born, but rather becomes a woman.” She challenged the accepted approach of Platonic essentialism, by suggesting that there is no inherent essence of woman; there is only the construction of norms and beliefs which determine her essence. We attach meaning to woman; being the owner of a vagina makes her nurturer, caregiver, other. It is the meaning attached to woman that makes her recognizable as such and treatment is prescribed according to this conscription. Since the ritual of gender is what reifies men and women, feminism needs to be dedicated to the troubling of these rituals.

What is liberal feminism?
Liberal feminism is derived from the philosophy of classical liberalism, which lays emphasis on the idea of individual freedom; we are individuals before we are gendered, classed, etc… Women’s freedom, or equality to men, is accessed through legal reform and is understood in negative terms, to be free from boundaries and obstacles. As a Liberal Feminist, J.S. Mill challenged the “might makes right” notion that designates women as inherently unequal to men. He argued that while women appear to consent to their condition, their lack of protest is just evidence that women have been adequately trained in the art and practice of submission. The arguments Mill made against the subordination of women include a moral argument, the subjection of women is inherently wrong; a modernist argument, subjection looks too similar to a caste system to keep up with the tenets of progress; and a utilitarian argument, holding back half of the population impedes the advancement of civilization. His solution was to remove the obstacles women faced on the road to freedom by granting them the right to vote and opening labor markets and education to female competition.

What is Marxist feminism?
Marxist feminists, such as Kollontai, believed that a person is first a member of a class and women’s equality to men will be achieved through a gender-informed revolution from capitalism to communism. Kollontai was especially concerned with the working woman and her access to motherhood. Propagation is necessary for the livelihood of a nation; it should not be commodified in the form of luxury. She argued that government should fund the move of reproductive labor from to home into the world; which would grant women the freedom of have leisure time. She also believed that child-rearing should be a community event. According to Kollontai, these actions would relieve woman of her triple burden and grant her access to the modern promise of freedom.

What is existential feminism?
Existential feminism is concerned with the dichotomies of self/other, transcendence/immanence, and subject/object. Woman is mythologized in ambiguity as the mantis and the dutiful wife, the virgin and the whore, everything and nothing. According to De Beauvoir, the construction of the woman myth defines and constricts her to the margins; she is the other, the immanent, and the object. De Beauvoir’s undertaking was to dispute the Platonic idea that there is something that is essentially “woman” which determines her destiny, by arguing that instead the treatment woman endures creates the essence that is she. She is not born a woman; it is her existence and the rituals of gender that create her as such. According to De Beauvoir, the world will know when woman is liberated because she will have attained grand stages for transcendence, like man and his Super Bowl.

What to all three have in common?
Liberal, Marxist, and existential feminism are all concerned with securing woman’s right to enjoy the modern promise of freedom. The difference lies in how they define this concept of freedom. As a liberal feminist, J.S. Mill adopted a negative construction of freedom; power is located in the law and state and both need to facilitate the removal of obstacles women face in order to attain freedom. On the other hand, Marxist and existential feminists view freedom in more positive terms; freedom is not found in the absence of obstacles, but instead in the availability of options. For example, Kollontai would argue for “material availability,” or the access to resources. De Beauvoir would prescribe a revolution of cultural mandates, which reify men and women, in order to grant women equal access to the act of transcending immanence, or exceeding essence.

p.s. VDay is hot, but Valentine's day can suck it!

V-Day Q&A

2008-02-07T00:22:00.000-08:00

Q: What are the most common Valentine's Day gifts?

Chocolate:
Let's look at Ghana and Côte d'Ivoire. West Africa is the number one cocoa producing location in the world. The production of cocoa is a very arduous process. Currently, cocoa-producing nations get paid roughly a dollar per pound. However, cocoa distributors charge around $17/lb. Quite a pricing disparity. This is made more complicated by the IMF's involvement through structural adjustment policies. Both of the top cocoa-producing countries have loans through the IMF. What happens when a country is indebted, is that the IMF examines their economic structure. This usually means subsistence crops meant to feed communities are cut or eliminated. Then funding is cut for social services. This then attracts foreign investment dollars. Great, right? Or wait, maybe not. The money people are making from cocoa production, which is not much, is earmarked to repay loans. There are fewer resources for subsistence and money-making that way. There are few or no social service supports remaining in tact. As well, the money flowing from foreign investments only benefits those dollars' countries of origin. So, while Côte d'Ivoire and Ghana are top-producing nations, they are likely to get stuck in a cycle of extreme poverty with few options. Higglers are beginning to change the bleak economic outlook, but it may not be enough.
So, give the gift of global economic exploitation with chocolates!

Stuffed animals:
Maybe I'm a humbug, but I cannot see a reason to give the gift of a stuffed animal. Anyone care to help me out? They are great for children and babies. They bring great joy to little ones who hopefully bring joy to others. But giving the gift of a stuffed bear to a grown person seems to be consistent with a trend of infantilization. As well as poor use of resources and the global assembly line. If I am going to be guilty of exploiting the labor of underpaid women, I do not want it to be for an animal that gets shoved in the closet to be forgotten forever.
This year give the gift of exploited wage labor. Look at my snuggly stuffed Maquilladora worker!

Jewelry:
I happen to be of the school of thought that does not believe every kiss begins with "Kay." Why are we ripping rocks out of the ground for vanity's sake? Mining is one of the planet's leading polluters, and is threatening some of the world's most ecologically fragile regions. The environmental impact from diamond mining is much like any other open pit mine, the problems stem from waste disposal,leeching and ground water pollution. Once vegetation and soil is stripped away, salts, irons and other nutrients are not naturally filtered as water seeps into the ground. This allows organisms, nutrients, plus oil and other machine related waste, to enter ground water. Species and habitat loss would change dramatically from site to site and continent to continent, but would always be present.
This year, give the gift of contaminated drinking water! I only drink coke, anyway.

Above all else, enjoy your consumer holiday! Not doing so would be short-sided.

it's that time again

2008-02-06T15:19:00.002-08:00

...time for me to kick cupid’s ass and rant...

Valentine's how I loathe thee. Let me count the ways:

First, you place emphasis on coupling. We live in a time when, more than ever before, women and men are able to coexist in perfect harmony--without one another! It is less necessary for women to couple as means of becoming economically whole. Fewer women are living as the parasites of men (thank you Simone De Beauvoir). Celebrating a holiday of couples ignores this amazing triumph. So I say boo!

Second, for people who do happily couple, I hate the idea of reserving one day a year to say "I care." Not good enough. If I am ever in a relationship where I look forward to that one special day of the year, I am so outta there!

Third, what is with the notion that the person you are romantic with trumps all other relationships in your life? I do not get it. I think it revolves around the idea that your partner becomes your life. Barf. Could there be a more disempowering notion? I believe I share a portion of my life with others. Granted the portion I share with my lover is more intimate, I cannot say that it is more important. This makes me think of the band Crass. If you have not heard them, you should. They have a song for almost anything you could be pissed off about. Anyway, on the album Penis Envy, there is a song call Smother Love and it says:
"Love don't make the world go round, it holds it right in place, Keeps us thinking love's too pure to see another face...Love's another sterile gift...That keeps us seeing just the one and others not existing." How this behavior can be considered well-rounded and healthy is what I want to know.

Fourth, do we not even realize that we're being suckered into buying empty tokens of expression and bullshit greeting cards? What are diamonds? What do they say? "Sweet-ums, I love you so much that I've gone into debt to exploit the earth of a precious resource and contribute to the stripping of areas in South Africa, all so I could give you this tiny, clear rock!" Spare me and my earth, DAMMIT!!!

Lastly, it's not the end of the world if you don't have plans on this most holy of days. I was at the MAC make-up counter scheduling a session for the release of their newest line. I told the sales person I was free on Feb 14th and she treated me like a leper. So, just because I have nothing going on for lover's day I must be sad and alone? She told me that after I got my make-up done I'd definitely be able to snag a fella. If I'm alone do I have to be unhappy? If I am coupled do I have to make plans on this day? Am I only desirable when I am made up? If I engage in the practice of making up, am I ipso facto heterosexual? The funny thing about this incident is that I quickly made dinner reservations for my boyfriend and myself for that day. How quickly I can conform when made to feel as though I am not performing my gender or sexuality sufficiently.

While this is not a comprehensive list of woes, it is a good start. Feel free to chime in with your reasons for the abolition of this holiday. We're making gains on Indian Killer day, I mean columbus day. Let's let Valentine's know it's not safe either!

2008-02-06T15:19:00.001-08:00

why feminism?

2008-01-21T12:19:00.000-08:00

Recently, feminism has been regarded with the same affinity as labor unions and tax levies. The question often asked is, “what has it done for me lately?” Is the job done? Have Third Wave feminists been left with nothing to do but flounder? Let's look at some feminist theories and respective goals, shall we?
Liberal Feminists are concerned with legal recourse to secure equity with men. As a result, a huge sticking point for this group is voting rights. Everywhere men can vote women can as well, except Kuwait.
However, most countries granted men the vote prior to endowing women with full rights as citizens, except Denmark.
Men in these countries had time to solidify themselves in the notion that women are unfit for politics and women also had time to internalize the same sentiment. In the United States, the vote was granted to men as citizens in 1870 and women in 1920. This gives men a fifty-year leg up on women in the political arena. Gendered voting gaps have the result of affecting the number of women contributing to government action. In Denmark, over 25% of elected officials are women. In America, only 5-14% of women participate in elected government positions. Therefore, Feminist-driven voter education is necessary to level the political playing field in countries with historically large gender gaps in voting rights.

Marxist feminists are concerned with capitalism. According to their world view, capitalism creates and perpetuates economic inequality. In this system, women and men are stratified and valued disproportionately to their worth as people. Ipso facto capitalism is the root cause of women's economic disempowerment. Globally, 70% of those in poverty are women. This is not random, this is Neo-Liberalism. When countries are in debt, they may be eligible to take out loans from the International Monetary Fund (IMF). As terms to the loan the IMF scrutinizes the country’s economic structure and assigns SAPs in order to appeal to foreign investment dollars. Typically, this means cuts in social and health services, which are disproportionately patronized by women. If families farm, then subsistence crops must be partially, if not completely, replaced with cash crops. Subsistence farming is the primary source of income for most women in these areas. With diminished income and no outlet for governmental support women, whose burden it is to tend to the needs of the household, are forced to find other means of income. Feminist mobilization is necessary to get women on the Board. This will give women the opportunity to shape IMF policy which affects their lives most.

According to Existential thought, the goal of humanity is to take control of the present and shape the future. Existential Feminists seek to explain and undo the reasons women are impeded from achieving selfhood and ultimate autonomy. Women’s reliance upon men is a crucial element in hindering their realization of autonomy, especially considering the age at which women and men come to this union. It is common practice, among many culture, for parents to make decisions and care for their offspring until said offspring reaches the age of maturity. Some cultures include the selecting of life mates for their young daughters under this paternal umbrella. In Niger 70% of girls and 4% of boys get married between the ages 15-19 years old. In much of the world 16-25% of girls are getting married before 19. This means that girls, who are used to having decisions made by their guardians, are handed over to men, who will take over that duty, at an elevated rate in much of the world. Only in industrialized countries is the instance of this is below 5%. When women lack self-determination, autonomy becomes impossible. Feminists, especially those apart from industrialized nations, need to expand cultural awareness to include a vision of women marrying on their own terms, if they marry at all.

The goal of Feminism is to work itself out of a job. It looks like we're still accepting applications.

data came from:
Seager, Joni. The Penguin Atlas of Women in the World. New York: Penguin Group, 2003.

i like my coffe like my social justice...

2008-01-16T18:20:00.000-08:00

strong and black.

i've just started volunteering for grassroots organization, Justice Works!

Mission UNDOING RACISM IN THE CRIMINAL JUSTICE SYSTEM AS EXPERIENCED BY AFRICAN AMERICANS.

Vision
TO PROVIDE A SAFE, AFFIRMING AND UNIQUE COMMUNITY WHEREBY AFRICAN AMERICANS, WITH THE SUPPORT OF THEIR ALLIES, USE SELF-DETERMINATION TO SOLVE PROBLEMS ENCOUNTERED WITH OR CREATED BY THE CRIMINAL JUSTICE SYSTEM.

Areas of Focus
COURT SYSTEM
PRISON SYSTEM
PRISONER RE-ENTRY

Today was orientation. We went through the basic ins and outs. The organization is situated in a house on MLK and Union. Everyone there was so friendly. They made sure we had coffee and tried to tempt us with cookies. I abstained.

It looks like I'll be a foot soldier for clemency. Trying to undo the travesty we call the 13th Amendment.

p.s. this is the 1st day in awhile that I rode my bike. hooray!

Seattle: let's caucus...

2008-01-15T23:15:00.000-08:00

...and primary?

I'm not exactly sure how this works, but it looks like King county is having both a caucus AND a primary. It sounds screwy to me, too. I guess it's Washington's way of saying. "OK. We'll concede and do something new, but that doesn't mean we have to stop doing the old thing, too."

Anyway, if you're curious about where and when to caucus go to King County Democrats. Also, information regarding the primary can be found here: King County Elections
Happy voting season!

should auld aquaintance be forgot

2008-01-01T20:59:00.000-08:00

Yet another year has been swept under the rug and the time has come to wax retrospective, or wane if one should so fancy.
The past year paraded many disappointments under my nose. For instance, drinking red wine started giving me sniffles this year. This was a slap in the pants and not in the way I tend to enjoy. Quite the contrary.
What else? Oh, I've become a grump and that means everyone has managed to piss me off enough to make me not want to be friends any more. Luckily, I've managed by drinking heavily and venting to the people who aren't currently pissing me off. I foresee this biting me in the ass in the upcoming year. I blame it on stress-induced episodes and momentary lapses in judgement.
My ass has seen a lot more of my couch. subsequently, my pants are seeing a lot more of my ass. I blame it on stress-induced episodes and momentary lapses in judgement.
my grandma died. that really sucked. and the years of her being sick even more so.
i wasted time with yet another waste of a roommate. this one may have been the worst. she left fecal matter on the toilet seat on a regular basis--YUCK!!
the relief is that it's all over.
i discovered bloody marys, my mouth keeps my day planner from over flowing, i've caught up on a bunch of premium television, my grandma is finally resting, i have a good roommate for once who can drop a deuce without her ass exploding! and most importantly, I fell in love. this was quite a shock, because I was convinced that love was a cliche novelty that didn't go with any of my shoes. Fortunately, love brought shoes with him! my insecurity about relationships seems to be dissolved. and my disdain for man almost completely gone as well. this is a good feeling and Harpo is a good man.
So, what do I want from the upcoming year?
I want to be done with school (for now). and I will be in June (for now)!
I want to travel.
I want to lose weight and some moles.
I want more time for myself.
I want to tell people "no."
I want to be content.

the good news is, I think all of my wants for the year are attainable. I'll let you know how far I get on my list next year. for now, prospero ano y felicidad.

This Week in Print

2007-12-12T10:45:00.000-08:00

As all of my adoring fans have probably noticed, I have fallen off the map. While I've been absent, I've still been obsessing over my blog hits. Apparently, I am a hit with the gay Parisiennes on the other side of the pond. who knew?
Anyway, I figured to make up for my absence that I would post what has been occupying my times. (because everyone loves to read college essays, right?) whether you do or don't will determine whether you read or won't. if for nothing else you can know what has been making me crazy lately.

The Dream is the Truth
Zora Neale Hurston’s novel, Their Eyes Were Watching God, is often described as one woman’s journey of self-discovery. While I believe this to be an accurate analysis overall, it is not sophisticated enough. By describing the journey of one’s self, Hurston is able to accomplish an immense depth of collective understanding. In this story of self-discovery there are outlines of gendered norms and societal restraints. Hurston employs vivid metaphors of pollen, entanglement and inner self to personify roles of agency. Through the use of these metaphors she is able to depict one woman’s path to discovering how norms and society play a role in shaping circumstances and how these circumstances shape people. Through Hurston’s words Janie embarks on a journey of self-discovery and through this discovery of Janie’s self there is also an unspoken understanding of women as a whole.
The first paragraph of Hurston’s novel addresses man’s agency in post-Civil War America. Hurston artfully describes the ambitions of men, “ships at a distance have every man’s wish on board” (Hurston 1). This implies that men have their dreams right in front of them. They can see them and they can aspire toward them. The following two sentences describe the difference between men. This sentence refers to those who are privileged, “for some they come in with the tide” (1). The reader has to decide for whom wishes come in with the tide. It is never explicitly stated but Hurston seems to allude to a racial and a class divides. The well-off are white and only need to wait for the tide to come in. Other men are not so lucky: “for others they sail forever on the horizon” (1). The horizon represents a condition of not having. The horizon is always in front of oneself and always just out of reach, the same way that tomorrow never comes. Wishes then become something that is dangled in front of these men. This implies an expectation inherent to masculinity. Until eventually the sun sets on their horizon. This lifetime of fruitless dreaming is what defines the life of men who are in want. The only similarity between these two men lies in the amount of inaction with regard to the perusal of dreams. We do not see men asserting themselves and having the fruits of their labor rewarded. Instead, we see some men waiting and other men watching. Either way, we are not seeing men pursuing and taking. Instead, they are simply acted upon with the changing whims of the tide. This negates a state of willful agency.
The second paragraph sets up the normative dichotomy between men and women. Men sit in wait for their dreams. Women, on the other hand, seem to take more initiative regarding their dreams, without actually executing power. Instead of steadfastly watching one’s dreams, women employ the art of selective remembrance. They figure out the situations that are out of their control. “Now, women forget all those things they don’t want to remember, and remember everything they don’t want to forget” (1). Their selective memory becomes their reality. This helps them deal with the hardship in life that is unfathomable and equally intolerable. They exercise agency when they can and forget about the instances they cannot. This act of willful amnesia makes an unbearable life bearable. They acknowledge they lack power in some situations and attempt to navigate around that the best they can. This creates a state of willfulness, without necessarily creating a space for agency. Understanding these first paragraphs helps one negotiate the constant strife between the sexes in this novel. Men and women are inextricably bound together. However, women’s acceptance of reality seems to undermine the men who are not satisfied with the dream being the truth.
There are many intersecting themes throughout the novel that flesh out the tension and ambiguity between men and women. Understanding love and marriage is one of these critical themes that helps navigate gender relations in this novel. Janie describes the union of love in the poetic language of birds and bees. She spends her time examining love and marriage while outstretched underneath the shade of a pear tree. She is witness to flies tumbling, interconnected, “marrying and giving in marriage” and, through a haze of pollination, she finds love and kisses Johnnie Taylor (11). We will see the critical themes of bound interconnectedness, pollen, inner self and issues of agency continue throughout the novel.
Pollen-induced haze and lying beneath the pear tree are also reoccurring symbols throughout the novel. They symbolize the haze of romanticism and Janie’s attempt to make the truth the dream. She wants the elements of marriage to be sweet, like when one sits under the pear tree to think. When her first marriage does not bring her this, she begins to stand near the gate and wait for something, like when she got her first kiss from Johnnie Taylor (23). It is at this point that she comes to realize marriage does not automatically bring love. Her dream had died, “so she became a woman” (24). Pollen imagery returns when she is describing the realization of her shattered dream of marriage with Joe. She is described as having “no more blossomy openings dusting pollen over her man.” She was no longer subdued by the haze of love and realized the truth was not the dream. The dream was merely a cloak for the man to wear (68). She forgot about love and molded her dream to fit the truth.
We see the shaping of dreams in relation to truth through Janie’s proximity to self, which is directly reflected by the circumstances of her life. We see this during her first marriage to Logan Killicks. Prior to her marriage, she believes that husbands and wives love each other without question. So she “went on inside to wait for love to begin” (21). The inside alluded to in this passage refers to Janie’s inner self. This is the first time we see her altering the proximity to herself. This is a continuing thread throughout the novel. We see it again in chapter 6 with Joe Starks. She is described as not being “petal-open” with him anymore. She came to this realization immediately after the first time he administered a beating upon her. Following the incident, she felt something fall “off the shelf inside her.” She looked inside herself and realized it was her dream of Joe. This is the point in the novel when she addresses that she has an inside and an outside and they are not meant to mix (68). If she can separate her emotions from herself, then she can make her dream of Joe the truth.
Janie’s final marriage is a turning point in the novel. Through Tea cake we see the culmination of imagery introduced to us so far. For instance, we get to see reference to Janie’s inside and outside again. Janie and Tea Cake had just left Eatonville and been married. Janie had brought along some safety money, which Tea Cake had stolen and lost while gambling. Tea Cake promised that he would win it back. This passage comes after his return. He has been injured in an altercation after winning back Janie’s money. Janie observes him drifting off to sleep. As she looks down upon him while he sleeps, she describes feeling a “soul-crushing love. So her soul crawled out from its hiding place” (122). It is interesting that she does not use the typical imagery of pollinated haze to describe a joyous love embrace or an ecstatic shiver (11). Instead the love she feel is one that crushes with its embrace. Therefore, her soul cannot gaily frolic out from its hiding place. Her soul, so crushed by the weight of her love for Tea Cake, can do nothing but crawl out from its hiding place. This suggests a lack of willfulness. Perhaps it was only the crushing that squeezed it out in the first place.
Through Tea Cake we see the reemergence of tangled bodies of relationships and are introduced to a complicated matter of intimacy. In chapter 15, Janie learns how jealousy feels. She believes that Tea Cake is cheating and confronts him with a blow. We then see them fighting from room to room. All the while, Janie is flailing and Tea Cake is holding her wrists in restraint. They continue, tangled, until their clothes are ripped away and Tea Cake hurls Janie onto the floor. In this passage we see and eroticism of their violent struggle. We also see a quagmire between want and volition. Saidiya Hartman examines this perplex in her work looking at racial justifications for the sexual subjugation slave women. In this violent encounter, the “language of passion expresses the essential conflation of force and feeling” (Hartman 79). However, during slave era there was a defined evil—the slave holder. In the climate of the novel, there is no defined evil outside of the slave system. Tea Cake holds her down until her resistance is melted away. They continue, tangled, doing with their bodies what cannot be expressed with words (Hurston 132). Is this a desired sexual encounter or is this seductive duress? We see the same conversation popping up in nineteenth century theory, through the work of Pamela Haag. It seems the conversation is unfinished through the unspoken norms in Tea Cake and Janie’s relationship.This portion of text illuminates the “evocatively ambiguous relations of power” between Janie and Tea Cake under which an imperfect choice was made (Haag 3). If she had continued to struggle, the reality would have been rape. The melting of resistance gives a space to Janie to refuse the existence of forced coercion. The sex they engage in is full of passion, not force, so Janie can make the dream of passionate love her truth.
The struggle continues. In this case it is man versus animal: Tea Cake versus a dog. This is during the hurricane that drives them to higher ground. After falling into flood water, Janie latches onto a cow to avoid drowning. There is a vicious dog on the cow and she is in danger of being bitten. Tea Cake dives into the water and rushes to her rescue. The dog was strong and Tea Cake was exhausted. Tea Cake was unable to kill the dog with one stab of the knife, but the dog was also unable to free himself from Tea Cake’s grip. They fought in a tangled mess, with the dog’s teeth in Tea Cake’s flesh and Tea Cake’s knife in the dog’s flesh. They are eventually separated when the dog dies, leaving Tea Cake with what will eventually become a mortal wound (Hurston 157).
The struggle of entanglement concludes when Tea Cake is consumed by rabies. He becomes as blood-thirsty as the dog that bit him. Inside of him was a need to kill. Unfortunately, Janie was the only living thing in his sight. She was forced to shoot him and as he crashed toward the floor, Janie lunged to catch him. As the two bodies came together, Tea Cake sinks his teeth into Janie’s flesh and they crash to the ground a tangled mess (175). Interconnectedness, as we see it in this novel, addresses the need of reliance upon another person. It is safety in numbers and it is circumstance binding people and things together, for better or worse.
The conclusion of the book echoes the metaphorical sentiments of the beginning. Janie says that she has been to the horizon and back. She has served to embody the dreams of Tea Cake and she sailed in just as the sun was setting on his horizon. In the end, “she pulled in her horizon like a great fish-net…so much of life in its meshes” (184). . She had so much life in her fish-net’s meshes, so she pulled it in. She was not watching the horizon, dotted with ships at a distance which forever hold the dreams of men. Instead, she remembered Tea Cake because he was everything that she did not want to forget. She beckoned her soul back inside for the last time. Then there was peace and the dream was the truth.
In conclusion, by analyzing pollen, entanglement and inner self we are witness to the distinct differences between men and women in regard to personal agency. Men wish upon ships at a distance; while women accept the facts. This puts men in the position of being blameless victims; while women seem to be more responsible for their hardship. These diverging perspectives cause ambiguity: who is the oppressor and who is the victim? The ambiguous state of blame serves to inform the relationships of tension between men and women throughout the novel. In the end, Janie discovers herself and she represents the journey required of women during that time period. Hurston’s words describe a tale of self-discovery, but what is left unsaid details the difficult road of collective discovery for women in the post-slave era.

I'm hoping this maintains or boosts my GPA as opposed to bring it down. This class has been the most challenging for me in regard to meeting my professor's expectations. Overall, I have good feelings about it.

In other news, I auditioned for a UW production...
THE VAGINA MONOLOGUES!!!
I'll find out in the next day or two whether I get a part or not. I actually don't know whether I have the time for the production in my schedule next quarter. So, if I do get a part, I'm hoping I don't get three. During the audition, they asked me to talk about my vagina to see if I would get squeamish. I think what I said made them blush. I suppose this could be good or bad. Either I'm just bold enough or a bit too bold. Anyway, it will work out either way. I mostly just wanted to remember how fun it is to audition for a play again.
Good night and Happy Festivus!

YES

2007-11-26T22:22:00.000-08:00

yes, I have not posted in awile.
no, I am not dead.
however, my external hard drive fell asleep and will not wake up.

does anyone want to play Prince charming and awake my memory holder from its deep slumber?

am i a mail order bride?

2007-10-31T09:47:00.000-07:00

I never thought so, but apparently the person who sent me this email thinks so:

"Hello Dear.
My introduction, my name is Jeff from republic of Sierra Leone, I want to solicit your attention in receiving funds on my behalf, which my late father left in a merchant bank in Ivory Coast before his death and the Amount is 2.5million dollars. The purpose of my contacting you is because you been a foreigner who I can have trust on to avoid my fathers relatives using the advantage of my age and cheat or betray me of this money, so that is why I decided to disclose it to you.

You live in a Western country with a stable economy where I can invest the money into true you. Please I don’t have any choice of investment; only what I need is your full assistance and support in any good investment in your country.

If you can be of an assistance to me I will be pleased to offer to you 20% of the total fund while the balance will be invested by you.
I am waiting for your response with your full information for me to be to be submitted to the bank.

Sincerely
Jeff kumma"

i wonder if he's handsome. he says he can only trust me because i've been foreign. ha!
i'm tempted to respond just to see what this person actually wants. Probably my bank account info. however, i'm afraid of computer viruses. so, i won't.

what's in a name?

2007-10-30T23:33:00.001-07:00

this may be the 1st time i don't use pseudonyms! isn't that weird?
as many may know, I've been kicking around the idea of changing my name. my middle name is marie and i think it is just as useless as most middle names.
my grandfather must have felt the same way. as an adult he changed his middle name to Baca, his mother's maiden name. my plan has been to follow his lead and make my middle name Baca as well. Anyone who has received emails from me knows that I am already using this new middle name.
However, i've begun considering making this name change more drastic. this has been prompted by an overwhelming need to preserve my paternal grandmother's legacy.

OVERWHELMING NEED, form of panic attacks--YAY! the easy thing for me to do would be to go back to my roots as a big bitch and just generally being difficult to get along with. I'm sure some people may think I've already begun this tactic, but i actually haven't. the other thing that has occurred to me is that if my grandparents lived in a spanish-speaking country, my fathers surname would be Garcia Esquivel.
My current plan is to ignore the fact that my mother has a maiden name, because i have no socially defined identity tied to it, and take my father's hypothetical surname.
I think continuing this tradition might actually behoove me. I often struggle with the idea of producing offspring and whether or not they will have my last name. I feel I deserve to pass on my name, because i will be the one to carry the little "f"er! However, I think since dad passes on genetics that he deserves that honor, too. so, who would win? this just bugs me, because it wreaks of domination in what SHOULD be a co-equal relationship. With the Hispanic naming model mini-me can have both last names! this makes me less apprehensive about one day making a copy of my genetics in the form of a person.
this also seems less like name changing as it does taking back what's mine.
my only concern is whether my name will be too much after i pass the bar in a handful of years: ms. shannon baca garcia esquivel, esquire--you know i'm going to use the title, because me using it bucks the boys club mentality of higher education.
that's it. my eyes must now focus on other eyes watching god.

Job Opening- WA (south end)

2007-10-18T12:49:00.000-07:00

Position: Technical Support Specialist/Help Desk
Job Type: Administrative
Schedule: Full Time
Location: Tukwila, Washington
Salary: Hourly - $14.00 to $15.00 with benefits
Job Posted: October 9, 2007
Req'd Travel: Yes – In Washington State up to 15%
Relocation Covered: No

To Apply:
Send cover letter including statement (**see below) & resume in Word format to:

Human Resources Administrator
Cedar River Clinics, Executive Office
14220 Interurban Ave S. Suite #140 Seattle, WA 98168
Fax: (206)267-2702
E-mail: HR@CedarRiverClinics.org

Cedar River Clinics, a Feminist run organization committed to making a difference in the lives of women by providing abortion and birth control services, seeks a highly motivated pro-choice technical support specialist to work under the direction the Systems Administrator in the IT Office. This position is located in the Executive Office in Tukwila, WA. This entry level IT position provides user support by troubleshooting software/hardware/printer/scanner problems and will also assist in telephone support, network operations and additional administrative support.

This position will travel to and perform IT support within our clinics during office hours. To be considered for this position, please include a **statement in your cover letter regarding your view on being pro-choice and address specifically why you would like to work for Cedar River Clinics.

Summary of Responsibilities:
• Provide positive encouraging support to end users who have varying
degrees of technical knowledge.
• Provide direction and support to On-Site Systems Coordinators.
• Ability to timely troubleshoot printer, hardware/software, copier/scanner
and telephone support over the telephone or in person.
• Assist in resolving computer issues over the telephone or in person.
• Provide telephone system support as needed.
• Install software as needed.
• Configure workstations as needed.
• Set up new network user accounts, email, network folders and
permissions.
• Dismantle network account for separated users.
• Follow through on IT policy change documentation.
• Order cabling for telephones and/or computers or run and install cable as
directed.
• Other duties as assigned.

Summary of Skills:
• Advanced knowledge in the following programs: DOS based applications,
Windows applications, computer networks.
• Familiarity with network, telephone and voicemail systems.
• Ability to teach and provide direction to other computer users with varying
degrees of knowledge.
• Working knowledge of Network protocols and IP addressing.
• Extreme attention to detail and follow through.
• Ability to effectively prioritize and complete tasks with little or no assistance.
• Ability to run office errands.
• Ability to make judgment decisions within the scope of assigned tasks.
• Demonstrated flexibility in handling multiple tasks and working in different
areas.
• Valid Washington State driver's license, reliable transportation, and
insurance required.
• Maintain internal and external confidentiality.
• Possess a strong commitment to Cedar River Clinics mission and values.

Physical Demands of this position:
• Frequently stands, walks, sits and climbs in performing duties in the office
and in traveling to off site locations.
• Frequently reaches and grasps in using telephones, computers, fax
machines and other office equipment and supplies.
• Frequently lifts and carries up to 15lbs of computers, monitors, printers
and occasionally, up to 40 lbs.
• Frequently to occasionally performs close work while using tools to install
hardware, updating files, reading technical information, and using
computers.
• Occasionally kneels, bends, pushes and pulls.
• Occasionally maneuvers around and/or under desks in sometimes tight
and dirty locations.

Summary of requirements:
• High school diploma or equivalent.
• Knowledge of DOS bases applications, Windows applications, computer
networks.
• Experience installing/troubleshooting/maintaining PC, printers and
scanners required.
• Strong written and verbal communication skills
• Demonstrated ability to be flexible
• Must be Pro Choice.
• Must be able to travel in Washington State up to 15%.

Feminist Women's Health Center is a social change organization that combines direct services (abortion and reproductive health care), with activism (to preserve the right to choose) and community education (to demystify health information and empower health decisions).

VISION: We have a vision of a world where all women freely make their own decisions regarding their bodies, reproduction and sexuality – a world where all women can fulfill their own unique potential and live healthy, whole lives.

MISSION: To achieve reproductive freedom, FWHC provides abortion and birth control so women can decide their own destinies.

To learn more about
• the clinic or the organization, see: www.CedarRiverClinics.org and
www.FWHC.org

the day apprehensive to begin

2007-10-17T09:59:00.000-07:00

The morning after can be such a drag...
I am a service learning tutor for the greatest class in the world--Psycho Biology of Women. However, I had a really hard time getting people scheduled for the required meetings and ended up spreading myself too thin.
My first meeting was scheduled for 8AM on Monday morning. My plan was to be up by 6am to make sure I arrived on time or early. However, the crazy screaming lady woke me up around 4am and I was not able to fall back asleep until after 5am. Needless to say, I did not wake up on time. I got out of bed at 7am and got ready as fast as my sleep-deprived bones would allow (which was not very fast at all, especially considering I needed a shower).
I arrived "punctually" at 8:15am. WHOOPS! the meeting went well, but I felt a bit off my game. Anyway, when the meeting was over I needed to hike over to Bartell Drugs. In my early-morning haze, I forgot to bring Aleve. After surrendering my money, I popped three pretty little pills into my mouth and caught the bus to Planned Parenthood.
My appointment was at 10:15am and I got there at 9:45am. In my mind that erased being late to my first appointment of the day. I had to sign some forms and pee in a cup. Why don't places supply funnels? I can't tell you how much I love getting urine on my hands so early in the morning!
Shortly after I peed on myself, a man took me into an exam room to get the ball rolling. I was a little worried that he might be the one doing the procedure. I couldn't imagine they have men prodding uteri at Planned Parenthood. The place that is supposed to be by women for women. i was panicked nonetheless. Also, the music was terrible. I imagined a male clinician tunnelling through my cervix to the soulful styling of Roxette. It was at this moment of being consumed by doubt that I found out they would need to poke my finger and get blood out of it. If I had known about the finger poking, I may not have come in. He tried to tell my that it's not that bad and not even really a needle. None of that helped. I cried like a baby and made him nervous that I would not be able to handle an hour of vaginal penetration. Clearly, he knows me not. I can handle most anything as long as needles and my blood are not involved.
After I stopped sobbing, he told me 20-year veteran, Consuelo, and a 3rd year resident would be performing the procedure. I sighed the biggest sigh of relief.
The two came in and the resident got to work while Consuelo kept me comfortable. They showed me my shiny, new Paraguard IUD. I announced that I would name her Penny. We all agreed that was an appropriate name, because she is tiny and copper. All in all, the procedure went smooth. However, a slight complication arose due to the position of my uterus. Apparently, it tips forward. I never knew that. Conveniently, it is more difficult to get a copper apparatus into a uterus that tips forward. I must say that I was not made too uncomfortable by this added obstacle. There was some cramping, but I was able to breathe through it.
After some struggle she asked Consuelo to take over. I was relieved, because the cramping was beginning to increase and I could tell that I would soon be in pain. Consuelo went in and did some maneuvering. I was about to say ouch, because I felt a surge of discomfort. However, this discomfort was over before the words came to my lips and just then she announced that she'd gotten it. Penny was in!
After that, I had to get back to school and have 3 more meetings. I decided I deserved Pho. Slim Jeans also decided I deserved wine and muscle relaxers.
gawd bless Slim Jeans!

the day that refused to end...

2007-10-15T08:49:00.000-07:00

...gave way to the day apprehensive to begin.
I heard through the grapevine, because i never actually look into the weather myself, that yesterday was going to be a wonderful day during a period in seattle when the wonderful days are becoming fewer and further between. So, instead of a planned jog, i proposed a bike ride. this will prove to be my undoing one day. don't get me wrong: i love me bike

see?! she's cute
However, a jog would have consisted of 3 miles. the bike rides consisted of 30+. i was sore and tired, but came home with a bunch of cute patterns, that no one gets to see until AFTER the holidays!! Bits and I tried to get Emms to hit on a couple of hot biker boys to join our peloton, but it was to no avail. boys, even the cutest ones can be oh so lame-o. also, why do biker boys have the nicest butts?
I digress. Anyway, I came home feeling everything mentioned above, but could not fall asleep. LAME! it was so beyond me. midnight came around and i finally fell into slumbers. THEN, 4am rolled around and i hear a woman screaming, "get away from me. leave me alone!" I wasn't completely in my head. so, i just laid there. then when i came to my senses, all i could think was that: "damn! i'm 'that' person." just then i heard her yelling and coming closer. I sat up in my bed and saw her run by, still screaming: "get away from me. leave me alone!" She looked like she was in a lot of trouble, but no one was following her. Shortly after I heard a siren for her and i was off the hook. Needless to say, we 6am reared its ugly head, I was not ready to get up.
I was not ready for a day of meetings of getting an IUD.
the rest of this story is...
...to be continued...

who do I endorse?

2007-10-11T22:44:00.000-07:00

I must admit I am a Kucinich dreamer. When I look at him, I really believe he is for the little guy. All joking aside, I am very much a pink-o at heart and he represents a lot of my sentiments for communism, oh that it were a perfect system. When I leave munch kin land and come back down to the real world, I bounce between Clinton, Obama, and Edwards. The one who best brings out my eyes on any given day is the one I am apt to support. Being that I am still up in the air, I decided to take an online survey. Much like using Cosmo to tell me what I want in a lover, I figured a survey that identifies my top candidates must be flawless. I used VA Joe's Candidate Calculator
and this is what it told me.

Ohio Representative Dennis Kucinich (D) - 88.24%
Former Alaska Senator Mike Gravel (D) - 88.24% match
Illinois Senator Barack Obama (D) - 70.59%
New York Senator Hillary Clinton (D) - 67.65%
Former North Carolina Senator John Edwards (D) - 67.65%
Delaware Senator Joseph Biden (D) - 67.65%
Connecticut Senator Christopher Dodd (D) - 61.76%
New Mexico Governor Bill Richardson (D) - 61.76%

Just look! The number one candidate on my list is one of the representatives from the Lollipop Guild! I think he is the one in the middle, showboating as usual. Now, do I know my treasonous politics or what? God willing, I believe McCarthy would have my ass in a sling.

This is what it said about the other side of the aisle.

Businessman John Cox (R) - 32.35%
Texas Representative Ron Paul (R) - 32.35%
Former New York City Mayor Rudy Giuliani (R) - 26.47%
Arizona Senator John McCain (R) - 20.59%
Former Arkansas Governor Mike Huckabee (R) - 14.71%
Kansas Senator Sam Brownback (R) - 11.76%
Former Massachusetts Governor Mitt Romney (R) - 11.76%
Colorado Representative Tom Tancredo (R) - 11.76%
California Representative Duncan Hunter (R) - 8.82%
Former Tennessee Senator Fred Thompson (R) - 5.88%

It's funny, I always fancied myself a McCain girl, but the survey doesn't lie. I guess I finally siphoned the AZ vemon from my veins.

Now I am off to bed, while visions Kucinich dance in my head...

the first step is admitting you have a problem

2007-10-10T13:14:00.001-07:00

this one is mine.

i'm currently watching cell phones and bathroom scales. Both things I need, i'm just trying to find them for a cheaper price than what is currently being offered at stores.

the sad thing is that i really believe this.

oh say can you see?

2007-10-01T22:44:00.000-07:00

this is the story of my visit to our fare nation's capitol. a story about when tourists stop acting nice and start acting real...
i should preface that my trip got of to a bumpy start, literally and figuratively. Apparently, AirTran at SeaTac International Airport is run by a bunch of slack-jawed in breeders. here is the set up they had going: stand in line for one of two kiosks. get your boarding pass. then stand in another line to check your baggage. don't most airlines streamline this process? oh, and they only had one person checking luggage! i cannot tell you how many people stood in the bag check line for this one woman to tell them they were in the wrong line and had to go stand in the other then stand in the current one all over again. half of the 6am flight were still trying to check in when the plane was schedule to take off, eh. i took me almost 2 hours to get TO the security line. if i can help it, i may never fly AirTran again. The thing that made it more exacerbating was having wendy and carnie wilson in aerobics gear in line ahead of me making fun of the way everyone who walked by FOR DRESSING FUNNY!!! for being such lame-o's, i called them the fitness and the fatness in my head. it helped me chuckle while being trapped with an earful of their fashion commentary.
once off the ground, i was out like a light. that is the nice thing about airplanes. i hate being on them, but can't stay awake long enough to care. However, there was some righteous turbulence on my connecting flight. these days i'm not a church goer, but there is something very special about in-flight bumps that bring out the hail mary's in me. i don't even know where the rosary came from.

Upon landing, i was greeted by my shaggy-haired lover. i must admit, i could not hold back the water works. i have missed him terribly for over a month now. So when I finally got to lay eyes on him again, i was a bit taken by my emotions.
While I was there, we went to Pennsylvania to visit his folks. We went to the Bloomsburg Fair. Apparently the only fair is the Bloomsburg Fair. I have to admit to not being as enchanted as I would have been if I were 10 or 15 years younger. As as side note, i'm sick and tired of this elephant ear regime. So, it was nice to partake in fry bread. McDreamy's family is very nice. Not to sound trite, but they truly are "down-to-earth" folks. As well his niece, nephew, younger sister and foster siblings are very sweet, cute and fun. i really felt welcomed while i was there. which was a relief. families have the ability to be burdensome when they find you disagreeable.

the final day of my stay was spent walking 500 miles and then walking 500 more. We went to the zoo and looked at many cute animals
After walking the extent our appetites would allow, we had a delicious dinner and even more delicious sangria. it was heavenly. we also got very sore feet. i was dense enough to where flip flops for the first part of our day about town.
after dinner and a shoe upgrade, we made our way to the monuments.
they were monumental, to say the very least. it was a lot of fun and at the end of the night, i had blisters on top of blisters to prove it.

the next day we bid adieu. again, i was taken by emotion. only this time, i could not get myself to recover. i wasn't sobbing or anything, but my eyes just would not stop producing tears. it was mildly embarrassing, but a nice man checking my boarding pass noticed i was upset. he asked me if i was leaving. i said yes. he said not to worry, because i would be back. it was strangely comforting. i like random acts of compassion. anyway, i had a lot of fun, but the trip was too short.

to close i want to say that we packed a lot into our short visit. i got to feel like a tourista and a local. however, of all the activities, this was my favorite and the thing i tend to miss most...

el fin

is the pessary half full or half empty?

2007-09-27T12:49:00.000-07:00

i have a decision to make here. i have been on birth control since 1998. The reason was because i had flow issues. once a month i felt like the nile river at it's peak abundance and had killer cramps to boot. The option posed to me was the pill. I have been on various forms of hormonal contraception ever since. I switched pills a couple times. there was a brief stint where i had to space my periods, because i felt like a crazy person during menarche. then, moved onto the patch. i moved off after the big scare. i can be a chicken when my life depends on it. currently, i use the NuvaRing. I like it a lot. it is quite convenient to only have to think about birth control once a month. i was quite remiss about taking the pill. anyway, i've been starting to feel biologically cheated by my no-baby insurance. as a "non-cycling" woman, i don't get to experience the full range of monthly emotions. most of my life, post puberty, i have actively avoided mood swings and cramps. but what if i am a crazy woman? shouldn't i get to experience that without needing to be fixed? and cramps can be dealt with without ceasing the cycle. it is for this reason that i am considering IUD, but not just any IUD--paraguard! this is a non-hormonal, copper IUD. it is over 99% percent effective at preventing pregnancy, but would allow me to cycle regularly--maybe heavily and painfully. there are minor risks of uterine perforation, pelvic imflammatory disorder, and ectopic pregnancy. however, these risks are very low.
anyway, i wanted to see if my peeps had an opinion or knew someone whom had tried IUD.
i'm listening...

how drunk is too drunk?

2007-09-16T18:23:00.001-07:00

this question would have been answered if you had seen me last night...
I was at SuKat's for girl's night in. which translated to drinking wine, eating cheese and gossiping about everything under the sun. i don't think i could count for you how many glasses of wine i had, but i had a couple too many. maybe my friends can recount this. after already being drunk i decided it was a good idea to go to the twilight exit for one more. on my way to the car i stepped in a hole in the grass and fell on my face. the made a big ouchie on my right shin. somewhere between girl's night in and the bar, i poked my eyelid. this also created a nice ouchie as well. at the bar i harrassed people and was just generally inappropriate for public consumption. i really hope i see myself in The Stranger's--Drunk of the Week, because i was in rare form and it was truly righteous!
when i got home, i brushed my teeth because my mouth tasted like fermented grape assholes. while brushing, i managed to gag myself and throw up in the sick. if you ever wondered, this WILL cause a clog. I also broke my soap dish and my ceramic virgin mary vase. i was able to glue mary back together. however, i think she is no longer full of grace as much as she is full of cracks. and the soap dish died on the table. which is a shame, because i really liked my soap dish. the topper is that my phone is currently located in a friend's Volkswagen Gulf.
so if you take nothing else away from my blog, take away this: one valuable lesson to learn, and better if it's not the hard way, don't let your drinking get away from you while you are in the middle of terribly missing your lover. it can only lead to hangovers and shame.

MEOW!

2007-09-14T00:52:00.000-07:00

so i'm just sitting here eating left over thai and checking my emails, when my nostrils feel something tugging on them...

imagine the cutest kitty and translate that to stink. my nostrils burn!
being a crazy cat lady is almost as glamorous as being a parent!

the solitude of the traveling blouse

2007-09-12T00:00:00.000-07:00

This little blouse had quite the day yesterday. She awoke to being stuffed into a bag. Then ripped out and put back in repeatedly, as her careless owner searched for countless items necessary for the daily function of life. Her owner left the apartment in a blur and as her wheels hit the pavement she realized why--she had left her glasses in the apartment. The action plan? Go inside and get them. The blouse and her owner rounded the back, grabbed the glasses, and rode off to work. Or so her owner thought...
when the owner--we'll call her me--when i got to the coffee shop, the shirt was not there. how curious. anyway, i had to wear the shirt of a man 3 times my size, since tank tops are against dress code. it was quite the sight i am sure. I worked in that oversize shirt all day and when I arrived at home, I looked everywhere. Unfortunately, ms. blousey could not be found. So, i did what any logical person would do and i put away my clean clothes. Still no sign of my beloved. all i could do was think of her and how scared she must be. all this distraction may have been a good thing, because the night before was a little bumpy and full of missing my lover. this blouse search kept my mind busy and got me through the night. when i awoke the next morning, she was the 1st thing i thought of. i knew i was in the rear of the apartment and came up the rear stairwell. it was just then that it occurred to me to trace my steps.
i walked out of my apartment toward the door to the stairwell. I opened the door and made my way to the exit. As a side note, it is a good thing i look at my feet when i walk. Otherwise, I may not have been reunited with my sweetheart. She was in a ball on top of the stairs.
big sigh of relief.
she is resting now. she had quite an eventful day yesterday.

the blog and the beautiful

2007-09-06T18:22:00.000-07:00

Some of you know this person as Harpo, but as he is no longer harping he will from here on out be referred to as McDreamy. This is incidental to the good news at hand. and the good new is this--McDreamy is finally blogging!!!!
I can't tell you how excited I am or how excited I think you should be, but you don't have to take my word for it. Check it out for yourself, while picturing him in the pose above. Now you, too, can see all the ways in which he is witty and charming and all the other things that make me crazy about him!!

be well, do good work, and keep in touch

p.s. just an addendum: if you look at the video below you will see that McDreamy and ted are dressed quite similarly. and why are these two my heartthrobs??
p.p.s. McDreamy if far more handsome than ted though and i am a lucky girl.

Ted Leo - Since U Been Gone / Maps

2007-09-01T18:14:00.001-07:00

greatest song ever!

phoenix fall out

2007-09-01T13:34:00.000-07:00

friday night (8/31/07) was my last night in AZ, which always fills me with mixed emotions. For there are things I do appreciate about the valley. I appreciate seeing people of color and hearing spanish spoken without having to drive or take a bus to the south end of town. i appreciate that even the sub par mexican food is still pretty damn good. AZ has a couple vegetarian restaurants that seattle could never hold a candle to. Then there are my friends and family. However, there is also the blinding heat and the blatant bigots, a-holes, insert derogatory term here. On the other hand, I have my food, friends, and timid bigots in seattle. so much push and pull going on. this is even further exacerbated by the turmoil of my living situation, granted this is on the up and up, and the fact that my lover is far away. Regardless, I am homeward bound and absolutely needed to spend time with the folks I care about most before I go home.
During the day, I went bowling with my auntie and my mommy. we were terrible! which i think makes it more fun. i can't imagine being competitive at that recreation. The highlight of the afternoon was during one of my aunt's frames. her foot must have crossed the line or something, either way she lost her balance while on one foot. So, she hopped trying to regain her balance and landed in the left gutter. Then, she hopped again, still on one leg. I'm not sure if she landed on one leg or two, but she landed in the lane to the left of us and totally wiped out. I laughed so hard and am currently having a hard time typing this tale without wetting myself. She was mortified. She puts so much work into looking well kept and pulled together at all times, which is what i think made this even more hilarious. She rather reminds my of Hyacinth Bouquet on Keeping Up Appearances. (if you have never watched this show, you should.)
That night the photo lezbo, hippie hair, and i were supposed to go sing karaoke at some skeezey bar on the west side of town. When we arrived, we decided it was too skeezey even for us! so we went to the divey, faux Irish bar around the corner instead: o'brien's. this place wasn't anything special. what made the night was the drunk friend that was brought along. at one point i was trying to figure out photo lezbo's iphone and drunky magoo says, he goes: "turn the camera on, because i'm ready to make love to your face." it was a little more than i could keep to myself.
needless to say, the day was spent laughing my ass off.
in short, it was a fun trip, but i am so happy to be home.

who the hell is Rose M Eriksen?

2007-08-30T16:28:00.000-07:00

and why did she call me? The number (906) 233-9416 came up on my caller ID on Aug 28th. After many encounters with collection agencies, I refuse to answer the phone if I don't recognize the number. Typically people leave a message, this person did not. So, I Googled the area code and found out it is a Michigan phone number. I don't know anyone in Michigan! So, I put the entire phone number in the search engine and it came up with Rose M Eriksen and her address. I typically strive for anonymity on my blog, but I figure if you're listed you're not too concerned with remaining anonymous.
let me know if you have any leads.

be well, do good work, and keep in touch.

stucco on you

2007-08-30T10:50:00.000-07:00

Being in this desert wasteland is beginning to take it's toll. While visiting my home state, they have broken a record for number of consecutive days over 110 degrees. Previously, the record was 10. Then another milestone was broken: number of 110 plus temperatures in a year. The prior record was 28. With any luck, today will be 30. I'm all for setting goals and going beyond, however I think these are records worth leaving be.
Another thing that has begun to get my goat are all the "adobe style" edifices. Why, pray tell, does everything need to be terracotta? The air is drab, the natural landscape an unremarkable shade of taupe. Why on earth would anyone like the buildings to exhibit the some monochromatic lack of enthusiasm? If I were an architect in this desolate chasm, I would want everything that can take a coat of paint to be slathered in green--give the illusion that their is life in this barren dirt pit!
so when i get home, i am launching a full-scale attack on stucco: the worst exterior accent ever conceived of. Please sign my petition to let me know I can count on your support.

happy days

2007-08-28T19:46:00.000-07:00

Once upon a time:

a man and a woman.

decided they couldn't imagine making anyone else's life miserable but each other's. they vowed to care and to hold in sickness and in health and tied the knot.

That was 26 years ago to the day. Which makes today my parent's 26th wedding anniversary!
26 years ago on this day: my mom had a melt down, my dad came through at the last possible second, and i had a poopy diaper.
they were married in las vegas and not much has changed since that day except that they have two more rug rats than they did 26 years prior. Here are the three of us caught in the act of being us.

i think we've got a good thing going here and i'm glad that i got to be around to celebrate it!
Happy Days to my parents and to us, their bratty babies!

here's to a marriage that never jumps the shark!

the golden state: a play in three acts

2007-08-28T09:06:00.000-07:00

This past weekend I was in California to visit family. For the most part, I did just that. However, one of the days I was there I tore away from sitting on the sofa while grandpa grumpy pants blasted Fox News. While away, I hung out with friends formerly from the valley of the sun and now just from the valley.

LIST OF CHARACTERS:
Hollywood PA, A young woman trying to make it in Hollywood as a personal assistant.
Disappearer, formerly the guitarist for the band, the myth and the legend: The Ponies. Currently, a library hand, hanging onto his glory days and reading far too many books.
me as myself.
ACTION:
Act I (This scene was devoted to setting up the characters and the plot. What had the three been up to? What secrets are they hiding.)
The evening began in Glendale at la casa de san marchi. The three had pizza, ate salad, watched a Ponies Documentary, and ate many roasted peas. Hollywood PA discussed her stint as a barista. Disappearer described the rise and fall of the Ponies empire. Me as myself talked about all the things you people are probably tired of hearing about. It was all very nice, I'm sure. When the three had said all there was to say, they decided to venture out of the casa.
Act II (getting some sugar)
The three climbed aboard their chariot, Sportacus, and set out on a journey far away from the place they had spent the last few hours of their existence together. Their destination: east Hollywood AKA the other side of Melrose. This area happened to be the bike district and me as myself was very tempted to go into one of the many shops and fondle all the beautiful bikes that would inevitably be too big. However, tonight was not the night for bi-wheeled pipe dreams. Besides, there were more important things at hand. The current mission was getting ice cream and i wasn't going to let a mission fail, not on my watch. The frozen lactose location: Scoops, tucked away in a cute area off of Melrose - filled with bike-shop co-ops and city college kids.
This place is the SHIT! Everyday they churn up unorthodox flavors of ice cream and keep the masses quite happy. The three were among the masses this very evening; partaking in hand-scoopes delicacies such as peanut butter, pistachio & orange water, and a madara concoction. Best ice cream ever thought of. Lessons learned: ice cream is heaven sent and Los Feliz is not pronounced (Fay-Lease), but instead (Fee-Lis)--these are among life's most important lessons. This part of the evening was magical, but it couldn't last forever no matter how hard the three protagonists tried. It was time to climb aboard Sportacus again and see where the evening would take them.
Act III (Hollywood ending)
The mood was that the evening was nearing an end. The protagonists drove around Fairfax, viewed the never-ending line at Pinks, and drove aimlessly around the vicinity of .
Just then, the phone rang (like it did about 300 times before that). But this time was different. This time it was the disappearer's Bakersfield friends calling us to tell us about . This was an interesting party, to say the least. Outside the party house was a group of wily, down-to-earth kids from Bakersfield. They were a riot! On the inside was a contingent of bitchy Armenian girls who were clearly uninterested in us. In the end, they killed the mood of the evening. The momentum of the protagonists was lost and they were forced to disband. Even though the end of the night was a bit sour, each one walked away knowing a little bit more about themselves. What they found out is that each one of them is a brain, and an athlete, and a basket case, a princess, and a criminal.
(We see me as myself walking across the football field as she thrusts her fist into the air in a silent cheer and freezes there.)

it's all about me!

2007-08-22T23:59:00.000-07:00

err... my pictures anyway...

if you are reading this, there are probably some of you and you should check 'em out!

peace out, bitches.

my life as a soap opera

2007-08-20T22:10:00.000-07:00

This is the drama that I have had to deal with for the last month in the form of email conversations. Names have been changed to protect the identity of the involved parties, no matter how not worth it they may be.

Manic Hispanic says:
sluggo:
we need to discuss a couple things regarding your move out date. do you know when it is? i will be out of town aug 16-sept 1. i foresee that i will not be in town when you leave.
my tentative plan is to give slim jeans my keys so she can begin moving in once you begin vacating and check on the cats food supply. this all depends on what works best for you. would you like slim jeans to begin checking on the cats before or after you move out? i've assumed it's ok for her to begin some light moving before you're officially out. is this actually ok? or is it not?
also, mr. rental man in planning on dropping off the lease for slim jeans and myself to sign. your signature is not required. if you could leave that on the coffee table or my laptop (or any other place that is visible) that would be great.
last thing, i'm dog sitting for a woman in shoreline which is why i've only been passing through in the AM to feed and water the cats and to scoop poop.

Sluggo says: I'll be leaving around the 23rd-25th. SJ is more than welcome to start moving her stuff in early as long as she pays me $200 for her half of the security deposit and you pay me $250 for your half of the pet deposit. She doesn't need to take care of the cats until I leave,
I can take care of them. But you should give me her phone number so
we can communicate while you're out of town. And I haven't yet seen
the lease in case you were looking for it.

MH: I'll pass this on to SJ.
As far as the $250 goes, I will not be able to pay you until I get my financial aid money. School starts Sept 26. So, I would imagine it will be in my bank account by the 17th. It may be earlier, but I can't imagine it will come later. So, you will need to leave a forwarding address for me to mail a cashier's check or pay pal account information. Sorry if this is inconvenient. However, it is the only way you will actually get the money, as opposed to a bouncing check.

S:
Hey manic hisanic-

I'd really like to have SJ's phone number or email address before
you leave town so her I and I can communicate in your absence.

MH: SJ did not say it was ok for me to give out her contact information, but that shouldn't be too much of an issue.

What i figure will work best, is if you call or text me when you are officially out, leave the keys on the kitchen table or in the basket on the coffee table, and i will let SJ know that the apartment is ready to move into. She will have my keys to get in and out of the building. So, you don't need to worry about coordinating that.

If there is anything that comes up that is imperative for you communicate to her, it can be relayed through me. (i.e. cat issues, etc...)n>

S: Hey. I can't move out until September 12. I hope that's okay.

MH: that is actually NOT ok. 5 days is not enough notice to change plans so drastically. SJ and i are signing the lease to begin on Sept 1st. Devon told her current roommates that she would be out by Sept 1st. Your room is SJ's and SJ's room is someone else's on Sept 1st. this was all based on you communicating that you would be out by the 25th. SJ has a rental truck scheduled for the 25th. If you stay behind, you will need to reimburse her for costs incurred in the duration.
in short, this is not going to work and you need to figure out something else.

this next response was written as an addendum to the previous.

MH: Alright, SJ and i spoke to the leasing office.
It is our hope that you can be out by the 1st. However, we can be a bit flexible.
If you stay through the 12th, you are responsible for your entire share of September's rent. SJ is neither obligated nor interested in splitting this with you. this was verbally confirmed when SJ went in to discuss the technicalities of the lease and the possible impact of your refusal to vacate.
Also, she will need to move her stuff into that bedroom on September 1st. So, you will need to have your things out of there by that date. In addition, you will need to relinquish your keys to SJ or myself on the 1st of September. Since you are encroaching upon a verbal contract, we shall not attempt to work around your schedule.
Another thing to note, you would typically need to pay a $250.00 fee for vacating the apartment early. We were not previously considering deducting this from your deposit, but are seriously considering it at this time.
Ultimately, you need to do what you need to do. It is not our wish for you to be homeless for two weeks. However, there are various monetary repercussions that are within our legal right to exhaust should you choose to stay.

S: Well I was kinda counting on the $450 you and her owe me and I can't
afford to drive down without it so I need to work for another
paycheck. I'm still on the lease until Sept. 1st so SJ shouldn't
have rented a truck for the 25th. If you want me to leave as
scheduled I'm gonna need that money.

MH: The way it is going to work is that you will get your money if you leave as scheduled. The longer you stay, the deeper the hole you dig. Much like if you were vacating at the proper time, you can't count on getting paid in advance. Something you should have considered is that you need to leave the former lessor with a forwarding address. A landlord is not going to take it on good faith that you deserve your security deposit in full. This is especially true because you are breaking a legally binding contract. The are monetary consequences for breaking contracts in all areas of life. I find it hard to believe that you did not consider this in your decision to move. Incidentally, money was not an issue when we all thought you would vacate without a hitch. SJ and I both believed we were being gracious to pay you money when typically you would lose money. We have now decided that the more burdensome you make this, the less money you will receive. Don't take for granted that a lease is a business transaction and the old adage holds true: time is money. You are not owed or entitled anything until you fulfill your end of the bargain. So just do what it takes to be out by the 31st, so SJ can move in on the 1st. Besides, if you need the $450.00 so badly, I don't know why you would want to incur an additional month's rent along with accompanying expenses.

can anyone guess how happy i will be when this bitch is finally gone?

stop the insanity!!!

2007-08-14T07:46:00.000-07:00

have you ever had an epiphany? a moment where the whole world stops to slap you in the face and shout: "DUH!"?

i had one such moment just the other day. Some of you may figure it out before the tale is done, but should stick around for the adventure.
just a little background, i work at Hilltop Yarn on Queen Anne hill in Seattle, WA. Some might ask whether this is a great yarn shop or the greatest yarn shop.
Anyway, there is a woman that I have helped a handful of times while at the shop. This woman is very intense--one of the most intense women I have ever met in my life. You can tell that she is used to commanding the attention of many. She is also in amazing shape. you can tell that she is probably older than she appears, but looks much better than you do all the same. I have never given her much thought other than the brief analysis described above which runs through my mind every time I help her. occasionally she pays with her credit card. On one such occasion, i looked at it and thought to myself: "that's funny. she has the same name as fitness guru, Susan Powter."

For a brief moment i thought to myself that it seemed like that should be a pretty unique name. however, i managed to quickly write it off as irony and never thought of it again. Never thought if it until the other day when i was talking with my co-worker, ms kitten. she mentioned that she had just helped fitness guru, Susan Powter, she was in the shop looking for the most fabulous shrug pattern right now. Then I remembered that the exercise diva lives in the area. i thought to myself that she must be a pretty intense person. And that's when a light switched on in my head and said: !!!!
It was probably a good thing that I never knew who she was before, because I get painfully star struck. I would hate for her to have to get a restraining order against me and then subsequently stop shopping at the greatest yarn store.
however, i also know that she is a genius of fit and i am the genius of sit. i've heard that she teaches a class called trailer park yoga where women are drastically dropping dress sizes. i need her "stop the insanity" determination and control.
i can only hope that she never comes into the shop while i'm working again. this way i will never have to actually face this dilemma head on.
save me jeebus!

slow and steady vs. fast and furious

2007-08-09T07:39:00.000-07:00

Well, I did it. I went through the postpartum doula training at the Seattle Midwifery School. Typically, the program is broken up over two weekends. However, I currently work in retail and it is difficult to get two weekends in a row off. So, when I saw that they offered a 4-day block in August, I jumped for it.
In hindsight, there is probably a reason they typically break it up. Ahhh, hindsight. Anyway, they were 4 information-packed days. By the end of it, I was pooped!
Now, I am well on my way to doula certification. If anyone knows someone that wants a doula and would like to help me achieve this, they can have me free for one week! And if they need me longer than a week, my rates will be relatively low until I have acquired my certification.
keep your ears to the ground, soldiers.

thanks,
be well, do good work, and keep in touch.

Seattle Likes Bikes

2007-07-26T15:58:00.000-07:00

Seattle Likes Bikes

We Ride: Stone Way/Fremont
Wednesday August 1
Meetup:4:30 (Gasworks)
Ride:5-6pm

WHAT: A ride of enough cyclists to clog up lower Fremont at rush hour. This will be a legal ride, which means we ride two by two and obey all traffic laws.

WHY: The city has caved to pressure from businesses and developers and has decided to go against the recommendations of the bike master plan and leave a six-block gap between 34th & 40th on Stone Way N, as well as continue the closure of a section of the Burke-Gilman in Fremont thru 2008.

WHO: All cyclists who are concerned about fundamental community-planning towards a better future and private interests trumping public safety.

WHEN: We'll meet up briefly at Gasworks Park at 4:30. Then we'll start riding around the following loop, counter-clockwise, following all traffic laws. If you can't make it until later just join in on the loop!

apartment listing

2007-07-23T22:22:00.000-07:00

for rent:
a room in a spacious 2-bedroom apartment located in seattle's 1st hill neighborhood.
this apartment is a corner unit with hardwood floors and lots of windows.
the kitchen is tile with a full-size oven and dishwasher.
laundry is located on-site. this apartment is conveniently located close to downtown and capitol hill and is located on a major bus line, making most of seattle at an arm's reach.

the bedroom's are 90 sq. ft and 110 sq. ft.
i am looking for someone to rent one of the rooms at $470.00 or $525.00. this person must be friendly and willing to pick up after themselves. as well, they cannot be allergic to cats or have their own, as i have two and that is enough for me.

if this sounds like something you are interested, please respond. more pictures of the space can be found at:
http://www.flickr.com/photos/shannarama/sets/72157600976442559/

thanks,
shannon garcia

hulk smash!

2007-07-19T15:40:00.000-07:00

the last month or so have been stressful. i've had to adjust to being more poor than i have ever been before. which is a difficult transition, though it is not impossible (especially when one doesn't have much of a choice.) anyway, the ripples were beginning to settle and i was beginning to feel less anxiety stricken. of course history should have taught me to predict that this is the time when opportunity strikes for the trouble ship sailing on the sea of change.
and if i had made that prediction, i would not have been surprised when sluggo, my roommate, told me she was leaving.
there are many benefits like: NOT living with 3 cats, enjoying my living space more, and not having to do her dishes.
the non-benefits may trump the benefits though like: having to find a roommate STAT or have to break a lease and move again with bad credit and no extra money, what if i move in with another flake that won't do her own dishes, etc. ...
anyway, i'm totally wiggin' like i do when big things happen that are virtually out of my control.
if you know anyone that wants to live with a tidy roommate and 2 wonderful snugglekin kitties, please send them to me!!!

crIMMIGRATION reminder

2007-07-17T11:57:00.000-07:00

CRIMMIGRATION: People, “Security” and Resistance

July 18, 6:30-8:30
New Freeway Hall
5018 Rainier Avenue S
Free and Open to the Public

Please join us for a conversation about the characterization and treatment of immigrants as criminals.

This evening is being organized by the Women Studies Department at the University of Washington. Co-sponsors include: Hate Free Zone Washington Community Action Network, and Mujeres of the Northwest.

Moderator and participants:

Serena Maurer, Instructor in Women Studies and 2006 graduate of our PhD Program.

Shankar Narayan, Policy Director at Hate Free Zone

Maria Rivera, a local immigrant activist

Maru Villalpando, a Community Organizer with Washington Community Action Network (Washington CAN!)

the greatest american passtime

2007-07-12T19:37:00.000-07:00

KICKBALL!!!

i think being an asthmatic teenager and young adult made me forget how great this game is. mostly because there is no fun when one can't run. however, i was re-introduced to the sensation, purely as a spectator, on sunday.
it was a nice, beautiful day and not filled with hellfire and brimstone temperatures, like today. that morning I had taken an african dance class with my friend the truck driving magic mama and i was sore. however, spending the day inside like a slug was NOT and option. it was just too nice out.
so, harpo and i saddled up and went on a mini bike ride. it was mini, because it felt like my hips were going to pop out of their sockets.
anyway, we went to the other coast. i got a vegan Reuben sandwich and my beau got a roast beef. we took our lunch to the ballard community center to eat. the sandwiches were delicious, as usual. after we finished grubbing, a group took a corner of the field and began warming up. harps and i were thrilled to see kickballs in the mix.
we stayed awhile longer and watched the game. (well i mostly knit and harpo told me when to look up.) either way, it was a blast to watch. it made me remember when a certain musical genius was trying to recruit kickballers. it was when i 1st moved here and did not have a handle on my asthma. though, now i do.

kickball anyone?

minus the beer

2007-07-05T09:48:00.000-07:00

the 4th of july came and went and here i go waxing retrospective, like i do...

most of the day was spent doing minor calisthenics while my sweetums made potato salad. the plan was to go to el jeffe's to tailgate out of his van, the princess fluffernutter. being that i come from arizona, the word tailgate puts a foul taste in my mouth. it reminds me of football, raw jocks, and tall cans of various sub par beer. no offense to the people who identify with anything listed above. it's just that arizona has a special way of giving such things a white trashy edge. to say the least, i was skeptical of the good times to be had, especially considering we were to be venturing the crapitol hill and parking is a nightmare at best on non-special occasions. i could not bring myself to fathom what it was going to be like on this most sacred of days. also, what would getting home be like? would it be the vehicular equivalent to michael jackson's thriller video? i shuddered at this thought.
we arrived on the hill with ease, but drove around for what seemed like a lifetime looking for parking. in actuality, it was probably more like 15 minutes. either way i was getting to the point where i was ready to call of the holiday. it was then that i saw a lot with empty space which had the option of paying by phone. to this, i resounded a great big "fuck it. we're parking here." anyone who knows me well should know that i will eat my arm before paying to park my car. this is how desperate i had gotten and i was still dubious as to how rock n' roll this gala was going to be.
harpo and i happened to be in the mood for some good old fashioned 4th of july grilling. as a side note, good things to remember while preparing for impromptu BBQing with friends. if there is anything you think you might need (like cups, plates, napkins, plastic wear, beer, food, charcoal, grill) bring them yourself. in some circles impromptu BBQing seems to mean not actually BBQing. i somehow had an innate sense of this and brought everything needed, minus the beer. i left that up to others. i know my friends, if there is no food it may not be a problem. however, no beer = problem and that problem typically gets solved and very quickly at that.
i don't normally eat my hat, but the whole evening turned out to be big fun. we had good conversations, good beer and good old fashioned 4th of july grilling. as well, we were perfectly situated to see the fireworks show near the space needle, which blew, and the show at lake union, which rocked me like a hurricane. then on the way home, all the traffic i had imagined battling like unearthed zombies, was not traveling in the direction we were. so that, in and of itself, made the evening great. i might actually remember this year's 4th, unlike last year's when i have no blasting clue what i did...
in the end, we all had a really good time--even those in our party who typically always have a bad time. we were together, celebrating the day we disentangled ourselves from the tentacles of tyranny, attempting to create justice for all. it's fun to celebrate that notion. it's even more fun to imagine achieving that lofty dream. either way american is just alright with me.

end scene

anti-Blondie dissertation

2007-06-27T11:05:00.000-07:00

Don't get me wrong. I love Debbie Harry and Blondie as much as the next person. But I have to draw the line at that awful, awful song some of you might know as "Rapture." I don't think I need to go into much detail about why I hate this particular song. I am quite sure that most people, minus the karaoke crowd of America, can agree that this song just plain stinks. However, it is believed by many that this is the first "rap" song to hit the charts. I will agree that it is the first song to incorporate elements of disco and hip hop. I will gladly give them credit for that. Why anyone in their right mind would want to is beyond me. But this twiggy, two-toned blond, Miami turned Jersey girl was not the first to rap and hit the charts. No, no. Instead these guys are of the pioneers with the corner market on that claim to fame.
With their hit single "Rapper's Delight." This song was one of the 1st hip hop songs to hit the charts and the first hip hop song to ever go gold. So, as far as I am concerned, Blondie can suck it in this regard. Still keep in mind that I am otherwise a Blondie fanatic. However, it upsets me to no end when white folk are able to co opt what communities of color have been doing for ages, make it popular, turn a pretty profit, and get street cred for it. Kinda like this guy...

Elvis wasn't the father of rock n' roll! He simply brought "colored" music into the spotlight of mainstream America. But I will save my Elvis rant for another time and place.

For now, be well, do good work, and keep in touch.

This I believe...

2007-06-26T12:18:00.000-07:00

I believe what's good enough for National Public Radio is good enough for me...

This marks the first installment, in a number yet to be specified, of "This I Believe: The Wild Goose Chases and Whimsical Fantasy That I Center My Life Around"

I believe in fairy tales and carbohydrates. I believe in flights of fancy and bouts of binge drinking. I believe in unicorns and love, and John Denver above. I also believe in Diamonds. Not the sparkly gems that justify the drilling and de-beautification of South Africa by De Beers, but instead the Diamonds that have brought pleasure to the cohorts of my generation.

Dustin and Mike Diamond.

After seeing the Beastie Boys in May and watching Celebrity Fit Club on television the other night, I was completely overtaken with a desire to believe that these two are in fact brothers. Mike and Dustin's noses, chins, and current hair do's bear a striking resemblance. It could only be true, right? This desire turned obsession managed to keep me awake for an entire hour before I began obsessing about my financial situation. When I awoke the next day,I cruised the interweb and located a few websites that backed up my theory. Let me tell you, I was thrilled. Just think, if the "D-man" is in fact packing heat (like he announced on Celebrity Fit Club) then maybe Mike D's nuts do in fact warrant a lyrical shout out!

Currently my roommate, queen of BuzzKilLandia, has been completely overtaken with a desire to make me to believe that this is all an elaborate hoax. She, too, found websites that make her nay saying credible. However, i currently don't give a rats ass. Maybe I wanted the connection to be real so badly that I only looked at websites that confirmed my suspicions, but what the hell does Wikipedia know anyway? They let people like this guy write up rodomontades about their notoriety and vast fame. I know this guy. The only thing he is notorious for is saying stupid shit like "i'm your ticket into the scene" and for making air paddles when he walks. He's a nice guy who perfectly proves the non-truthiness of wikipedia.

I digress. Back to the lecture at hand:

This I believe: the two Diamonds are siblings and if I have have the fortune of one day meeting Mike D I plan on asking him: "do you remember that one time when you were Screech's brother? Was that a hoax?"

Important Immigration Event in Seattle

2007-06-26T10:26:00.000-07:00

People of Seattle, I pity the fool who does not come to this event. Serena Maurer is an amazing teacher at the UW who actively challenges the pedagogy of institutionalized learning. If you do not have the opportunity to take any of her classes, then I highly recommend your attendence.

"I am Not a Criminal!": Immigration, Security and Resistance,"

July 18th, 6:30-8:30 pm
New Freeway Hall
5018 Rainier Ave S. Seattle WA

Please join us for a conversation about the characterization and treatment of immigrants as criminals. This evening is being organized by the Women Studies Department at the University of Washington. Washington Community Action Network is co-sponsoring the conversation.

Moderator and participants:

Serena Maurer, Instructor in Women Studies and 2006 graduate of our PhD Program. Her dissertation research in the Yakima Valley focused on how notions of immigration and criminalization were tied together in resisting struggles for recognition and resources.

Shankar Narayan, Policy Director at Hate Free Zone

Maria Rivera, a local immigrant activist

Maru Villalpando, a Community Organizer with Washington Community Action Network (Washington CAN!).

See you there!!

color me excited

2007-06-16T12:56:00.000-07:00

So far the summer of Shanny has been a bit lackadaisical to say the least. However, it is about to get super rad.
The first item on my agenda is to take vacation. What better way to get motivated than to take a break from doing nothing, right? I agree completely and so does my favorite person, HW.
At around 7pm, he and I will be hop into a shiny rental car and rocket north east past the Canadian line. To this lovely place:

Banff, Alberta!!! Banff is located in the Canadian Rockies. We will hike and bike aboot Banff National Park. Then, after a long day of activity, we will soak in mineral hot springs. HOORAY!!!
When we get back, I will get started on my doula and LSAT prep. not so hooray, but still productive and being productive is fun fun fun.

school's out for summer...

2007-06-12T10:35:00.000-07:00

Last wednesday was my first and only final of the quarter and my last final of the 2006-2007 school year. It was for the most difficult class I have taken during my college career--PsychoBiology of Women with Professor Nancy J Kenney. She has an extremely unorthodox teaching style that makes the important information she teaches come across as interesting. She also demands that you put in a lot of study hours for her tests, because they are HARD! I thoought I had done so for the first 2 tests and all I got was a big, fat B on both! So I studied my ass off for the final. I dilligently went through practice tests circiling the correct answers and writing down why the other options were incorrect. It was intense. However, when the day of the test came I was not surprised by any of the questions--I owned the material. On this test my grade was quite different. I got an:
Hip Hop Hooray!! This boost in my test score, combined with my service learning work, got me a 4.0 in the class. And incidentally, I earned a 4.0 for the entire quarter. This brings my cumulative GPA up to a 3.9, a very respectable GPA to be applying to law school with.
So now I go enter into the Summer of Shanny with no worries or regrets and will actually be able to

kittens

2007-05-30T15:40:00.000-07:00

If my cats got any cuter...

...i might just hack up a fur ball.

i doula like this, i doula like that....

2007-05-24T22:45:00.000-07:00

i doula with a wiffle ball bat.

well, not yet anyway. but i will. I just enrolled at the Seattle Midwifery School for postpartum doula training in August.
Doulas perform support for mothers throughout the birthing process and beyond. Doulas are part of a prevalent birthing movement which promotes the importance of recognizing birth as an empowering experience in a woman's life.
After my training, I will focus on the postpartum--
helping a mother adjust to breast feeding.

changing dirty diapers.

and just generally supporting new mom upon her return home.

I am really excited about this opportunity to take what I am learning in school and apply it to my life.
not many people get to say that, right?
anyway, i wanted to share my excitement with my pool of virtual friends.
yay!

top ten reasons to blog

2007-05-21T13:11:00.000-07:00

this post is for one person in particular. in my blog he goes by harpo and/or the harp whisperer (HW for short). i digress...

10. it increases your international exposure and your chances of being the future US diplomat to Latvia.
9. your special lady/your fucking lady friend will have another avenue with which to pester you throughout the day.
8. you can keep the world apprised of your bike maintenance.
7. surely there is at least one person on the planet whom wants to be exposed to your rants and whom currently isn't--let this person find you.
6. you'll be plugged into a community of people doing whatever they can to avoid putting on pants.
5. you will leave a legacy for future anthropologists to use while speculating the demise of the human race.
4. you can, so why not?
3. blogging is sexy.
2. you need diverse feedback re: your capacity models for seattle transportation and what better venue than the interweb?
1. the world deserves to know what all those recycle codes on the bottom of plastic bottles REALLY mean.

anybody else have any shining reasons why HW should blog? leave a comment!!!

a collection of cheap locks

2007-05-17T13:33:00.000-07:00

I have become a collector of sorts. I'm not really like most collectors who seek out particular items that bring joy into their lives. No, I'm the type that leaves the house and gets to my final destination missing something I simply can't do without. This morning it was my bike lock. I rode all the way to school and the second I rode up to Schmitz Hall, I remembered that I had forgotten to put it in my bag. So, I had to ride around the U-district looking for a place to get a new lock, because there was no way in hell I was going to risk leaving my bike unlocked on the Ave ALL DAY. I am now the proud owner of a cheap master lock that someone could sneeze on and have a fairly good chance of getting it open. but to look on the bright side, it will be handy for securing my tire to my frame. ...
In conclusion, the last few days have been marked by empty headedness and I am at the end of my patience with myself.
That is all.
Good day.

ha!

2007-05-16T13:12:00.000-07:00

knitting M read the post below and though i was going to say i was pregnant!
no way, jose.
i thought it was funny though. ...

28 days

2007-05-09T11:40:00.000-07:00

It didn't occur to me until now the reason why I have been so tired lately. Granted there have been some extenuating circumstances over the last month, but i think i have discovered the root of the problem. it is nearing the end of my last quarter of my first year at the UW in the women studies department. in fact, there are only 28 days until my last final of the year. less then 28 days to take 2 more tests, write a personal statement, re-write 3 papers, write 2 new papers, write another set of journal entries and all this while having a nervous breakdown.

where will i ever find the time?

if i hit the switch, i can make the ass drop

2007-05-08T16:26:00.000-07:00

so, i have a different rubric than ice cube for determining whether a day is a good day or not. he and i have very different life styles. for instance, i never have to use my A.K. so, if i went by mr. cube's logic, every day would be a good day. and while that sounds good on paper, life would be pretty boring without bad days. right?
anyway. when i woke up this morning, i knew i was going to have a good day. shortly after rubbing the sleep from my peepers, i found i'd been sleeping with a man and i had no idea where he came from! most people would rush to a clinic to get tested for STDs. lucky for me the man i found in my bed was dead. this might not be a reassuring idea for everyone either, but it is when the dead guy you find in your bed is mr. jackson.

i also realized today that i did not get charged for the bus pass that was stolen from me a couple weeks ago.
and to top it all off it was nice and sunny today.
i guess if i'd had to use my A.K. at any point during these events, today might not have been so good.
so i guess ice cube isn't completely irrelevant in my life. ...

you can't hold a grudge against a dog

2007-05-07T19:43:00.000-07:00

no matter how much you don't want to get up in the morning. even my brother the grizzly bear can't be angered when roused from his sleep by this little pooch.

and this is why i love dogs. ...

biking for beers

2007-05-07T16:12:00.000-07:00

while most of the world was recognizing sunday as a day of rest, i was pedalling my little heart out. ...
L-nutz,my best friend's girl, the harp whisperer, and myself rode all day long. HW and I started at the beginning of the Burke-Gilman Trail and met up with friend 1 and friend 2 a little further along. We continued our bike trek to where the Burke stops and the Sammamish River Trail picks up.
Did we stop there? That is an excellent question and the answer is NO. We continued the ride to our final destination in Woodinville: the Red Hook Brewery. Our reward for the long haul was beer. As an adult I've found beer is the only thing that justifies rigorous toil. the beer was delicious, as was the veggie burger that i ate in virtually one bite. The lemon cheesecake was nothing to sneeze at either. Before we got back on our bikes we made the realization that by the time we got home we would have rode approx 41 miles. On the ride home everyone else seemed to have the energy of 1000 warriors, but I was pretty beat and assumed my position in the rear. there was a point after getting back on my bike that i could feel myself begin to melt down. i began to feel upset and wanted to cry, but i didn't know why. luckily i had enough wits about me to call it what it was--fatigue. Throwing my bike on the ground and throwing a fit was not going to get me home any faster and that is all i really wanted. So, I sucked it up and kept going. This is what i am most proud of myself for.
When I arrived home I had just about enough energy for an hour or so of TV. I was hoping I'd have it in me to finish watching Babel, but I could only muster up the energy to watch a PBS special on dogs and eat leftover enchiladas.
I was asleep by 10pm and did not manage to get out of bed until 9:30am. I was sore, hungry and tired after my day of burning 900+ calories. I was convinced that I was going to give myself a rest before putting myself through anymore physical exertion. so, biking up the monster that is Queen Anne hill to get to work was absolutely out of the question--especially considering how saddle sore I was.
Anyway, here I am blogging, sweaty and hungry. ... I ended up riding to work against my better judgement.
time for eats!!

Pom Pom's not Bomb Bomb's

2007-05-02T19:41:00.000-07:00

BLOOD, SWEATS AND CHEERS: 10 YEARS OF RAHRAH RADICAL CHEERING

Pom Pom’s Not Bomb Bombs- • Do we make an impact politically? • Action brag book, or I can’t believe you got away with that! • What was your favorite protest, and why? • How does creative street theatre allow you to express your politics? • How do the physical movements and choreography of radical cheerleading affect the way you participate in and feel about political action? Have you or your squad ever written your own cheer? If so, send it to us!
You Too Can Be a Cheerleader! NO TRYOUTS!!! • Where/when did you first see radical cheerleading? •What made you want to be a part of a radical cheerleading squad? • How old were you when you first started cheering, and do you still cheer? • How is radical cheerleading empowering?
We're here we cheer get used to it! Sex, Gender, and Politics • What were/are the gender politics of your squad? • Is radical cheerleading for everyone?
White Girls Gone Wild • How are race and class accounted for in radical cheerleading? • Why does radical cheerleading appeal to _____________ people? •What did your squad look like and why?
Here Come the Cameras and the TV crew • How do radical cheerleading (and performance activism) generate media attention? • Does publicity help or hurt your message? • Which stunts and antics worked, and which didn’t?
Radical cheerleading and fashion. • Pleated skirts and pom poms: Does radical cheerleading ever reproduce the politics or aesthetics it attempts to mock and reject? Queerleaders, jeerleaders, cuntleaders, raging grannies. How radical cheerleading is part of a larger movement of creative protest. (Queerleaders, jeerleaders, cuntleaders, raging grannies.)
Is radical cheerleading 3rd wave? • Is it DIY? When, how and where does it get out of a certain scene?
Do you have a personal collection of radical cheerleading memorabilia? What does it look like?.

Deadline is June 1, 2007. Send your photos, artwork, personal stories, academic essays, manifestos, cheers, collages, sound files, and more to: radicalcheerleaders@gmail.com - or - Francis Goldin Literary Agency 57 E. 11th Street, Suite 5B New York, NY 10003 Attn: Radical Cheerleading Visit us at www.myspace.com/radicalcheerleadingbook All accepted contributors will receive a copy of the book and financial compensation. The editors – Brackin Firecracker, Cara Jennings, and Jeanne Vaccaro – are represented by the politically progressive Francis Goldin Literary Agency in New York City (goldinlit.com). PASS IT ON.

why is my baby cousin so dern cute?

2007-04-27T12:21:00.000-07:00

we may never know for sure. ...

califonia dreaming. ...

2007-04-25T13:28:00.000-07:00

this week has been as exhausting as i expected. i'm trying to be my dad while he's not here and he's kind of the gofer of the family--he does all the grunt work. so, i've been making breakfast and other meals; cleaning, the yucky bathroom that looked like it got hit by a serious shit storm, the dishes--these people make some serious dishes; and folding laundry.
as well, i've had personal things to keep up with. I have a paper due for class tomorrow and i'm the schedule writer for the yarn barn.
i've also been quiet busy visiting with my cousins. this part of the family can out drink a fleet of sailors. now i know where my dad gets it from.
good news is that all this crazy business has kept me from getting sad. so that's all good. i'll be home friday.

12:23am

2007-04-23T00:46:00.000-07:00

my grandmother passed. ...