Back from the beach and off to a workshop until Wed. Then off to Pennsylvania. I came into the summer thinking, "Hey, I don't do well with a lot of down time, so I should travel some, volunteer maybe, build a car from scratch, establish world peace, and paint the Sistine Chapel." Why do I take on so much? I also wanted to lay by the pool, clean this rathole of a home, spend some time writing and do some painting. July' s looking pretty empty, what should I do?
The Invisible Stage
I used to love bars. I really used to love bars. Laughing, watching, deep talking, drinking. Now I'm finally realizing the obvious fact that a bar is simply a group of people waiting for something to happen. It's like going to a theatre with no stage. Sitting for hours waiting for the invisible curtain to open and reveal a great comedrama. But the curtain is never raised, the lights may fade, but insignificantly, and the actors are the crowd themselves. It's really all very lonely and sad to watch through those glasses. But it is still fun to watch.
100, err... 50 Facts About Me.
1. Born in Baltimore, Md. 2. Teacher (but secretly applying for a new job) 3. Drive a Honda 4. Smoker since 1992ish 5. Drummer 6. Favorite band is Wilco 7. Own a townhouse 8. Have a boyfriend of 6.5 years 9. Live with a boxer (dog) 10. Attend a Unitarian Universalist Church 11. Not working this summer12. Fav. show is Six Feet Under 13. Live in North Carolina 14. Travelled to Malta 15. Am Irish/ German 16. Fav. food is Blue Crabs 17. Preffered drink is a Manhattan 18. Fav. beer is Newcastle 19. Fav. wine is Pinot Grigio (Summer) and Shiraz (winter) 20. coffee drinker 21. came out to parents this past year 22. have taught EC Algebra for 8 years 23. Fav. morning show is Today 24. Best daytime show is Ellen 25. Fav. reality show is extremem home makeover 26. am currently in the worst shape of my life 27. my worst personality trait is being disorganized/ lack of confidence 28. my best personality trait is creativity 29. I'm a Capricorn 30. I have one sibling 31. Best moment of my life was floating nude in the mediterranean sea under a full moon 32. Worst moment: getting the call that dad had a heart attack 33. I'd like to visit Chicago soon 34. I don't want to visit miami 35. worst daytime tv: regis and kelly 36. my best body feature: eyes 37. worst: chin 38. of seven deadly sins, am most guilty of: sloth 39. favorite soudtrack: avenue Q 40. my fav. part of a man's body: lower abs, b/w the tummy and pubes 41. fav. city to live in: DC 42. fav. city to visit for a week: NY 43. Fav. city to stay only three days: New Orleans 44. weakness for peanut butter 45. love live theatre 46. fav. color (changes often) is olive green 47. favorite nut is macadamia 48. fav. hotty actor is Ed Norton 49. Most anticipated albums: Coldplay and White Stripes (both out today) 50. I'm glad this is done now.
The Cycle of the Dogwood
I love this story of the Dogwood tree. When I was a child a friend of mine (using the term "friend" as loosely as I use "father" to describe the monster that paid their bills) lived down the street on a lot with plenty of grass (he had to hand pick the dandelions "every day, god damnit."), fairly dense perimeter woods and Dogwood trees. I remember the small twisted trees that spotted the plush green lawn and the beautiful oversized white flowers that marked the coming of Spring every year.
I wish I could remember this boy's name. He was an abrupt kid who, I now have no doubt, was living in an abusive household. He carried these violations over unto others in the neighborhood, and I'd sincerely be interested to know what became of him after they shipped him off to military school. (I believe he is the young man who told me the about the birds and bees: "One person lays on the other person's butt for an hour and then they have a baby.")
The young man's father taught me about the cycle of the Dogwood. That a long time ago the Dogwood was a tall majestic tree that filled forests with grand flowers that could not be seen elsewhere. The tree was so abundant and strong that it was frequently used in construction and was actually used to build the crosses used by the Romans to crucify criminals. After Jesus had his day in the sun God got pissed and told (?) someone, the person that started spreading this story no doubt, that in remembrance of this day the Dogwood would never again be capable of growing to it's full form again. Now we have the dwarfish twisted and feeble Dogwood seen in my young acquaintance's yard.
What's the moral of this story? I don't know. For my friend's wicked father it was to teach us that if we touched this sacred relic of Jesus' last day he'd, "break your god damned arms." I think he might have done just that, or at least laid on someone's butt for a while.
I wish I could remember this boy's name. He was an abrupt kid who, I now have no doubt, was living in an abusive household. He carried these violations over unto others in the neighborhood, and I'd sincerely be interested to know what became of him after they shipped him off to military school. (I believe he is the young man who told me the about the birds and bees: "One person lays on the other person's butt for an hour and then they have a baby.")
The young man's father taught me about the cycle of the Dogwood. That a long time ago the Dogwood was a tall majestic tree that filled forests with grand flowers that could not be seen elsewhere. The tree was so abundant and strong that it was frequently used in construction and was actually used to build the crosses used by the Romans to crucify criminals. After Jesus had his day in the sun God got pissed and told (?) someone, the person that started spreading this story no doubt, that in remembrance of this day the Dogwood would never again be capable of growing to it's full form again. Now we have the dwarfish twisted and feeble Dogwood seen in my young acquaintance's yard.
What's the moral of this story? I don't know. For my friend's wicked father it was to teach us that if we touched this sacred relic of Jesus' last day he'd, "break your god damned arms." I think he might have done just that, or at least laid on someone's butt for a while.
Stankover
Dining For Friends last night and my head hurts. It's as if my head was terrified at the thought of me forgetting that we were the oldest guys in the bar by at least five (me) to fifteen (him) years. "It must be emphasized. You are old. Four drinks over the span of five hours is too much for you anymore and you will pay." It's the cigarettes too. "Not a hangover, I don't think," desperately trying to convince my head this aging thing is all a farce. "Just a dull reminder." Stubborn reminder at that.
Bloody Right.
Well that didn't work out too well did it now? Seems it was JUST February... Here it June... goodness me, as my Aunt Whatsename might've said. First day of summer and I'm already feeling fat lazy and increasingly unmotivated. Time to set some goals:
1. Get your fat ass to the gym. It's there for a reason and it's NOT meant to function as a kick-stand.
2. Just read an intro by Ray Bradbury in which he lays out the formula he used to write. I love to write and have plenty of material but, the motivation thing. The way ol' Ray wrote initially was to sit first thing every morning and write the first thing that came into his head (no wonder he wrote so many short stories). I vow to myself (and myself only so that no one else knows when I fail) to write every morning, even if it's only a word. Some days, hell, I may be able to write for hours if it allows me to put off the vaccum or a shower.
3. This past year was shite. Pure and simple. Spend some quality time planning for next year. This can work it's way into daily writings. (Why am I thinking of this all in a British accent? ay?)
4. Paint your friggin house. Your friends and parents dont want to hear anymore about what's "going to be." Do it.
5. Lastly: hmmmm.. seems like I should have five, such a fine number. "Goal 5: Come up with a new goal five later and replace."
Cheers!
1. Get your fat ass to the gym. It's there for a reason and it's NOT meant to function as a kick-stand.
2. Just read an intro by Ray Bradbury in which he lays out the formula he used to write. I love to write and have plenty of material but, the motivation thing. The way ol' Ray wrote initially was to sit first thing every morning and write the first thing that came into his head (no wonder he wrote so many short stories). I vow to myself (and myself only so that no one else knows when I fail) to write every morning, even if it's only a word. Some days, hell, I may be able to write for hours if it allows me to put off the vaccum or a shower.
3. This past year was shite. Pure and simple. Spend some quality time planning for next year. This can work it's way into daily writings. (Why am I thinking of this all in a British accent? ay?)
4. Paint your friggin house. Your friends and parents dont want to hear anymore about what's "going to be." Do it.
5. Lastly: hmmmm.. seems like I should have five, such a fine number. "Goal 5: Come up with a new goal five later and replace."
Cheers!
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