The Black Book (a veritable what the hell who's who? of people who have held little bits of my heart through the years)

Name: Clem
Me: 2nd grade, confused, ADD, never brushed my hair.
Him: the boy who sat next to me, Cuban, dark, mysterious, effeminate.
What happened: I chased him around the playground and pinned him down, tried to kiss him. Primordial sexual stirrings. My mother wouldn’t let me go to his house to play. Interest waned.

Name: Jenny
Me: I adored her in 2nd-3rd grade
Her: My best friend
Why we kissed: We were best friends, so we had to seal the pact. She had the biggest pucker ever.

Name: Martin
Me: Grade 3, glasses, precocious, lost the spelling bee
Him: Grade 4, older, taller, played the lead role in The Mikado, British
What happened: Huge crush; fantasies of being hospitalized and him holding my hand, consoling me. Not entirely sure he knew I was alive. See how much I loved him in this picture.

Name: My Cool J. Fox
Me: Freshman in high school
Him: Senior, repeating a class he had failed, looked like Alex Keaton
What happened: Huge crush; fantasies of being hospitalized and him holding my hand, consoling me. Not entirely sure he knew I was alive.

.

.

Now come the crush years. Too many to list. Include Markus, whom my cousin also dated. 2 guys named Hillar. Blah blah blah. Hard Puberty, breasts, mortification, adjustment.

.

.
Name: Dennis 1
Me: Senior
Him: Sophomore, but older than most because he stayed back and had started school late. Not too bright. Big eyebrows. Skinny.
What happened: I broke up with him the day before the prom but we went together anyhow. He showed up in a tux that did not match my dress. I ignored him all night.

Name: Hodge
Me: College Freshman
Him: Junior (also in college)
How It Went Down: Storybook romance; I spotted him at a soccer game and said, “I would die for a guy like that.” He spotted me in the bookstore and said, “Do I know you?” then hunted me down in my dorm. We were in love for a few months. He showed up to meet my dad in a rumpled shirt & no shave. He broke up with me. We tried to get together a few times but it didn’t take. I was finally over him 2 years later.

Name: Aryan
Me: Sophomore-Senior in college
Him: Lived in my dorm, dated my friend, drove a beatup Chevy pickup that he still has.
What happened: He broke up with her to date me. She tried to kill herself twice. We camped & burned tires in the woods. Love. He was Russian Orthodox and I wasn’t. I think black folks are a-ok and he doesn’t. His former roommate is now my boss. His brother died in 1999 so we got back in touch. 1-2 emails a year.

.

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Now comes sort of a blurry haze for a few years in the job world. Including Mike, my vice principal, who was arrested the day after we went out for drinks (for possession of cocaine) & forced to resign; Dennis 2, whose mom I worked with and who (I found out) had been arrested for a domestic violence incident at some point; Dennis 3, whose brother I worked with and who left 25 drunken messages on my answering machine one night; some guy whose name I forget whom I escaped by ducking out through the kitchen of a bakery; some other guy who I left at a restaurant after he got up 8 times to make phone calls. I think I might have been making bad choices.

.

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Name: Shepherd Boy
Me: 24
Him: 19
What happened: Broke my heart.

Name: The Onion

Me: 27, feisty, adventurous

Him: 28, Dot com millionaire, eccentric, liar, somewhat famous.

What happened: I felt like something wasn't quite right. I let it go. Later, I read about him online and found out what he had been up to, and it was not good. I can't give details, because I don't want you to look him up and embarrass him.

Name: Neighb
Me: I don’t know. Almost 30.
Him: My best friend.
What happened: We were friends for 10 years, then we crossed over & couldn’t cross back when it didn’t work out. We stopped talking when he started dating the woman he later married, and we just never talked again. My boss is good friends with him (he also lived in my dorm) & gives me updates I don’t want to hear.

Name: Stefan
Me: Now
Him: A very dear friend
What's happening: I so wish we were attracted to each other, because I adore him and we are amazingly great friends. We are each other’s Plan B; maybe when we are both 90 and we’ve given up the quest for Mr./Ms. Right.

Name: Sven
Me: 30
Him: 39, Norwegian, possible Asperger’s Syndrome, tall, penilely challenged
What happened: I hated his stupid dog and didn’t love him. He cried for 3 hours when we broke up and wouldn’t leave my house.

Name: Neil
Me: Looking for work with birds of prey, recovering from surgery, feeling a need to reconnect with my womanhood.
Him: Doing a study with birds of prey in Wyoming desert, running dogsleds in the winter, living in a teepee, smoking pot.
What happened: Spent a few weeks banding hawks and reconnecting with my womanhood. Then I came home.

Name: The K-Man
Me: Teacher, 31-34, smitten
Him: Charming, funny, alcoholic, married
What happened: Great pals, worked closely together, went to New Orleans for a conference and he acted like a big asshole; I told him to go to hell and fix his train wreck of a life. Left him in New Orleans. Major impetus for giving up alcohol.

Name: Brad the Clown
Me: 35-36, aloof, bored
Him: 37-38, one testicle, artistic, boring, racist, lazy, sloppy eater, has 1 joke that he repeats over & over.
What happened: I dumped him.

Name: The Handyman a.k.a. Brazil nut
Me: 36, 2 days after breaking up with Brad, I said to my friends; “I need a hot-blooded Latino lover to tell me I am beautiful.”
Him: In my house when I got home that day.
What happened: 1 month fling, with bonus (!) of numerous items fixed & painted around my house. Then he went back to Venezuela.

Name: Freaky Hand Fetish Dude
Me: Agreed to a blind date
Him: Bass player, looked like

this guy from Stargate, freaky, carried pictures of his cats in his wallet.
Why I changed my phone number: When I told him I wasn’t comfortable with him trying to hold my hand this early (we had met 10 minutes ago) he said, peevishly, “Oh, what --- we have rules about things now?!?” He asked me to clap my hands so he could psychoanalyze me according to how I clapped. When I did so, he closed his eyes and smiled and said, “That is the most beautiful sound in the world.” Later, he rested his hand open-palmed on my hand and moaned with his eyes closed as if he had just squirted in his pants. He freaked me out so much I didn’t leave him immediately, I was afraid he would stalk me. Luckily he didn’t know where I live or any of my phone numbers but the one I changed.

Name: Calzone
Me: Horrified ... yet drawn to him.
Him: Abusive, condescending, defiling, objectifying, pampering. Ridicules me, feeds me cheese, dresses me up like a cowgirl.
What happened: It’s still happening and it never ever stops.

Name: Monkey
Me: Nurturing, adoring, anticipating.
Him: Fuzzy, has a giant hoo hah, indignant, flattering, incessantly packing and unpacking.
What happened: He is coming here in 3 days!!! It will be the time of our lives. I am, after all, easy to please.

Nostalgika VIII: Stirrings of Prepubescent Desire [repost]

I was so in love with Martin S-C when I was in elementary school. I have mentioned this here before, in my Black Book post and in one of my Meditations. He played the lead in The Mikado, so as far as I was concerned, he was a superstar.

Looking back on the way I felt about him, I see patterns that still exist in my adult life. His effeminate fragility attracted me, as did his delicate bone structure. I find that I am attracted to either really ridiculously manly men, or else men who are really in touch with their womanly side. Martin didn't play rough like other boys. Martin played the viola and read big, fat books.

I pined. I pined, while he was ignorant of my existence. I fantasized that I would be hospitalized and he would sit at my bedside and hold my hand (I also fantasized that I had a dollhouse filled with real, tiny, Borrower-sized people. I would pick up the boy, pull down his pants, and insert a safety pin into the little hole at the tip of his penis. I knew that, despite the pleasant tugging sensation these thoughts gave me behind my navel, I should not tell anyone ... because they were very bad thoughts. This fantasy may have more bearing on the current state of my love life than my love for MSC, come to think of it). I still find any relationship in which I am not in a state of desperate angst to be emotionally unsatisfying. Also, he had a British accent. I like accents, as long as they aren't Russian (sorry, Boris). Since puberty, the ear of my desire has become more attuned to words being whispered and shouted in Spanish; but in 3rd grade, Love spoke British.

The other day, I found two newspaper clippings from the Martin days. See? I was a stalker even then. What a gold mine! Here they are:

Martin was in the newspaper for taking a class in which he learned to conduct the orchestra. Third-grade SG thinks: I can't believe I am in love with somebody famous! This pattern continues to the present day, of course, but you always remember your first brush with fame. Well ... I wished I could have brushed Martin ... instead, he waved his arms with passion and focus while I sat on the sidelines, eating funny little acrid-tasting pellets that I found on the carpet during Story Time.

This was a great day for me. In grade 4, I was in the same class as Martin again (a 5th grader! With upper-lip fuzz!). We won (!!) a bookmark-making contest and were featured in the newspaper. Even though I traced my picture of Winnie the Pooh, my bookmark got the blue ribbon (that's me on the left; check the hair. circa 1977). Martin got 2nd place. See us all showing each other our bookmarks with pride! I am posing for the camera, but my heart is pounding as this photo is being taken, and my eyes are full of his ivory, translucent skin and his pursed little lips ... his well-appointed trousers and his tidily turned collar. In my mind, the two of us are standing together on the Olympic podium, our arms around each other as we listen to the National Anthem. I am so mad that Jenny and Aleta, with their sub-par bookmarks, separate us.

I'm fairly certain that, despite our shared fame, Martin S-C still does not know who I am. Or ... maybe ... he has just blocked me out, because the heartache of our unrequited love is too painful to bear! I am pretty sure that's how it is. Not that he never looked my way, with all my funny voices and my straight-armed, short-panted gait. And the fact that I told him that David Cassidy was my brother. And that I was half-Chinese (because I thought that would be cool, as though all-Estonian wasn't good enough. I look half Chinese, don't I?) No, I am pretty sure that once he realized I was simply out of his league, he nursed his heart back to health and tried to find a way to move on. I sure wish I could.

I felt like a repost, so ...

100 Things


1. My first language was Estonian. I still speak, read & write it. All the time!
2. I didn't really speak English until I went to kindergarten,
3. where I learned the word "soon" and thought it meant one o'clock.
4. I thought this until I was 11 years old.
5. Because it rhymes with "soon", you see?
6. My twin sister Twirling Girl has always, always been there.
7. I don’t know what I would do without her.
8. My baby sister Tuuna Taco is my other best friend.
9. My parents are some of the best people I know,
10. And I don't tell them enough, so I am telling them now.
11. Since they read my blog.
12. Which sort of censors me, but that is probably a good thing.
13. I can be gross at your blogs, right?
14. I worry that if I ever meet any of you, you will discover that I am not really as pretty as the persona I have created
15. although I have begun to think of myself as "Spinning Girl" and would probably answer to it if someone called to me.
16. Sometimes I get terribly lonely.
17. Often, I love being alone & doing what I want, when I want.
18. I need to tune my piano so that I can play it.
19. I need to clean my chimney so that I can make bigger fires without fearing that I am going to start a chimney fire.
20. Some pieces of music are so beautiful to me that I cannot contain the emotion I feel when I hear them, and I just cry.
21. I can’t stand most of the music I hear on the radio.
22. There are some exceptions.
23. I have an almost unholy obsession with Yellow Ledbetter and every time I hear those first few hesitant guitar notes, I smile with glee.
24. I had a small alcohol problem once.
25. By small, I mean that it had a short life. Maybe two years of really drinking in a way I felt was out of control.
26. Plus 15 years of wondering if maybe I drank a little too much?
27. I gave up the booze on August 6, 2003.
28. In March of 2004 I drank 3 bottles of wine by myself and scared myself so much that I never want to drink again.
29. In July of 2006 I accidentally took a giant swig of my cousin’s vodka tonic, but only because our cups were identical and it really was by accident.
30. If I drink on purpose, I am afraid I will not stop, ever.
31. I still get mad that something so fun could turn into something so bad, but I’m OK with it and I don’t miss it. It just pisses me off that alcohol was such a mean trickster bastard.
32. I become smitten very easily.
33. Recently I was smitten with someone in my grad class.
34. But he never called when he said he would, so I had my answer.
35. That’s too bad, because I still find him really attractive even though I don’t talk to him much.
36. I am also completely infatuated with Jamwall, even though we have never met, because he gets me and we feed off each other’s sick humor in a truly exhilarating way.
37. Right now, I am imagining Jamwall naked.
38. Are you?
39. Someday, I hope to spend a weekend with him, romping through a condiment village that we have built together.
40. Sometimes I am perfectly happy with my life the way it has gone thus far.
41. But I am always ready for the next big, good thing.
42. I would like to be a mom, though not necessarily give birth.
43. Maybe I just need a pony!
44. Or a dog, a non-pooping dog.
45. Having to pick up shit is the one major thing keeping me from getting a dog.
46. Sharing my living space with a box of urine and shit and giant hair balls is what is keeping me from getting a cat.
47. I had the most amazing cat once, and he will never be equaled.
48. I fear the spider, but only once it has reached a certain size.
49. Spiders of Acceptable Size (SAS) are allowed to live freely in my home.
50. Spiders of Unacceptable Size – SUS-- are thrown outside, not killed, unless they are huge or move very fast.
51. I would probably go crazy if I woke up and discovered an SUS clinging to the tip of my nose with all 8 of its legs.
52. I can honestly say that I love my job.
53. It is like a dream. A job cannot be this perfect, can it?!?!?
54. I sometimes fear becoming debilitated and unable to teach anymore; what would I do then?!?!?
55. I don’t spend much time fearing the future though.
56. Most of my fears are fleeting thoughts, lucky me.
57. Maybe I am stupidly optimistic. That is fine with me.
58. I take life’s little luxuries very seriously.
59. My bed.
60. My coffee.
61. That’s a short list, but those are the two biggies.
62. When I was a child, my favorite place to visit was my grandparents’ house in upstate New York.
63. Sometimes we had to weed the garden, and we had to finish before we could swim.
64. This taught me self-discipline and delayed gratification.
65. I used to pretend I was a poor little slave girl, weeding my little row of carrots in the blazing hot sun.
66. Nothing equals the bliss of a cold swim after you have been sweating in the blazing hot sun.
67. There was (is) a spring-fed pond on my grandparents’ back property.
68. It is stocked with fish that were caught elsewhere & put there by my family.
69. They have lived & multiplied there for 50 years.
70. I used to catch grasshoppers in the meadow and then feed them to the fish.
71. I used to be very good at catching grasshoppers; the most I ever caught was 72.
72. Grasshoppers!!!
73. I fear that one day a swarm of locusts will land on me, as payback.
74. This fear, however, is fleeting.
75. When my family sells my grandparents’ house, I don’t think I will be as sad as I was over the past 10 years, watching it decline from what it once was.
76. Nothing gold can stay.
77. I hope that my parents’ home becomes that way for their grandchildren ... a really special place where you can always go and be happy.
78. I believe it is really important to listen to children and not try to spank too much of their personalities out of them.
79. Like the boy who made the grappling hook; it made me really happy to see that.
80. I can think of 5 teachers off the top of my head who would have said, “put that stupid toy away.”
81. Of course, I teach science, and can justify “allowing” a homemade grappling hook in my classroom.
82. It scares me how little science some people know.
83. I’m a little bit obsessed with Carl Sagan, and rightly so.
84. Shadows of Forgotten Ancestors is one of my favorite books of all time.
85. I should read it again soon. I tend to reread books I love several times.
86. I have read Lord of the Rings at least 22 times from start to finish, plus countless times of reading just certain parts.
87. For me, rereading a good book is like visiting a place that I love.
88. When I want to escape for a while, I go to Middle Earth.
89. I’m OK with being a total geek.
90. I have amazing tits, so I can get away with it.
91. Are you imagining my tits right now?
92. Go ahead, then. I am OK with being objectified by you.
93. Shit, I forgot about my parents reading this.
94. Sorry mom and dad, sometimes I say dirty things to be funny.
95. Dirty and funny is one of my favorite combinations.
96. Wow, 100 is a lot.
97. I might have dyslexia because I often reverse “tomorrow” and “yesterday” in my speech, regardless of what language I am speaking. I think those two concepts got stored incorrectly in my Wernicke.
98. I am a huge procrastinator, and I did this instead of grading papers.
99. I always feel better after a good day of procrastinating.
100. I’ll feel even better later when I get that shit done. Thank you for reading!

Nostalgika XVII: Bookmark Fame

Once long ago, I told you about the fame I encountered when my bookmark was chosen out of 4, or possibly 5 entries in a contest at my elementary school. Oh, the pride and shame I felt when mine was chosen! For I alone knew that I had traced the picture, and that the win belonged not to me, but to famed Pooh artist Ernest H. Shepard, and to the magic of mimeograph.

Here is a portion of the story, in which my win and my love for Martin S-C mingle in newsprint:

This was a great day for me. In grade 4, I was in the same class as Martin again (a 5th grader! With upper-lip fuzz!). We won (!!) a bookmark-making contest and were featured in the newspaper. Even though I traced my picture of Winnie the Pooh, my bookmark got the blue ribbon (that's me on the left; check the hair. circa 1977). Martin got 2nd place. See us all showing each other our bookmarks with pride! I am posing for the camera, but my heart is pounding as this photo is being taken, and my eyes are full of his ivory, translucent skin and his pursed little lips ... his well-appointed trousers and his tidily turned collar. In my mind, the two of us are standing together on the Olympic podium, our arms around each other as we listen to the National Anthem. I am so mad that Jenny and Aleta, with their sub-par bookmarks, separate us.

I struck a goldmine on the day that my mom brought me my childhood scrapbook, which has coughed up such gems as my spelling bee third place cryfest. What did I find nestled in its crusty bosom, but the original bookmark!


One is me. Savor that well-turned phrase! Reach out and caress the pink paper! Smell the fresh mimeo ink! One of the benefits of winning this contest was that the winning bookmark was copied via blue-tinted mimeograph and handed out in the school library to everyone who checked out a book. I love to think that my little bookmark was carried by readers young and old, inspiring them to delve into the STOPIES of A.A Milne. Despite the fact that I traced the image, my superior artsmanship is evident. I imagine that Martin's 2nd-place artwork was nearly as moving, nearly as inspired. Let all others flock to our banner and only wish they could touch the lives that we were able to touch. Dream on, Jenny and Aleta!

Spinning Girl Deep Cuts: Stupid x3

Originally posted 7/20/05

Top 3 Stupidest Things I Have Done:
A Sharing Session

1979: My sister & I decided to ride bikes side by side, with me holding her handlebars and her holding mine. The ride lasted 0.13 seconds and we traveled approximately 9.75 inches before falling over. She jumped off, I fell -- on her bike -- and the axle poked a 1” deep hole in my thigh.
High point: The exhilaration of considering a future circus career.
Low point: The realization that this dream, too, must die.

1988: Traveling halfway across Long Island Sound in a 12’ rowboat. We took 3 outboard motors that my boyfriend had rebuilt & wanted to try out. No life vests. Only other boats out there were the ferry and a huge barge.
High Point: Swimming off the middlegrounds lighthouse.
Low point: What I did for Love.

2000: Jumping off a cliff near the Via dell’ Amore in Manarola, Italy and breaking my tailbone. A 35’ jump and I didn’t clench properly. Water shot up my butt and snapped my tailbone. It hurt for a year.
High point: The view on the way down was gorgeous.
Low point: The instant I hit the water and made that elephant-seal-like groan that you only make when you majorly hurt your ass (you’ve made it too, when you fell off your bike seat onto the bar) .

The Alphabet Meme

This is a repost (originally posted in July 2006). I like it.

I borrowed this idea from my secret lovah, but I also changed it rather drastically because some of the terms restricted me too much. Like my breasts, my ideas need to be free to bounce. Maybe this meme will spread across the internets and I will be famous!!!

I doubt.

But here it is, in all its glory!

A
Always: Trying to live my best life, my most authentic and honest life.
Average: In most ways, except for intelligence and beauty, wittiness, talent, and charm. Otherwise, I'm in the 50th percentile.
Annoyance: People who walk around with their wireless headsets on. Especially if they are talking into them. Today, on my errands, I became one of those people. I hate myself.
Age: Physical -- 37. Mental -- I'll forever be 17.

B
Best Friends: My sisters, San-San, and Elle. Fabulous girls who bring out the best in me.
Beer: Never again.
Birthday: 11.5
Boast: I can play the Bumblebee Tuna Song on the harmonica; I taught myself.

C
Crush: My favorite song by Dave Matthews. Also, Johnny Depp. Also, Jamwall and Jiggs, the bread in my SG-n-cheese sandwich.
Car: Noisy, necessary.
Candy: Not a fan. Cheesecake? Yes.
Cry: When I need to, usually into my pillow.

D
Days: Spent out of doors remind me that I am alive.
Dream: Of swimming underwater, breathing. Of flying, low to the ground, after a running start. Then crashing into a shrub.
Dare: To cross Long Island Sound in a 6' rowboat; to jump from a 40' cliff into the Ligurian Sea. To travel for weeks at a time. To fly in a hot air balloon. To go on safari. To live in Australia. One of those I will never do, and all of them I will tell my mom about long after they happened.
Drug: Of choice --- cheddar. Drugs are bad! Listen to Nancy Reagan! Never was into powders, pills & plants smoked or otherwise imbibed. Alcohol? Ask me later and I'll tell you the story again.

E
Easy: To see the positive in almost any situation.
Eggs: every day, almost. Hard boiled, on toast. No, scrambled. Oooh, with cheese & tomato.
Email: constant.
Envy: A sprite with short blond hair and a boyish body. Why is that?

F
Flavors: fresh herbs, good balsamic vinegar, sea salt.
Favorites: at the moment ... toast with jam and James Blunt. My kayak. My black sandals. Spray tan.
Flaws: Temper, venom, pride.
Finicky: about seeds. No caraway, please. Flax? Too slippery. Poppy? Maybe. Sesame!

G
Grateful: To be fully & wholly alive.
Gifts: Music, humor, the written word.
Gum: Orbit. Trident. Altoid peppermint.
Gross: The squished mouse on the road, the drowned earthworm on the asphalt. Bear smell. Dog shit.

H
Hair: I should shave it off to curb my own vanity. As if I could. It is a glorious mane.
Height: I see all your house-dust, above the places where you could reach. Also your dandruff and down your neckline to your nipples, even meaning not to.
Happiest: Near water.
Hate: Do I hate anything? Caraway seeds, but we covered that. I hate being lied to and being ignored.

I
Ice Cream: Ben & Jerry's Mint Oreo, or whatever you are serving at the moment. Except bubblegum. Ew.
Instrument: Piano. Guitar. Voice. Mind.
Idols: Barbara Kingsolver. Carl Sagan. Stephen King.
Independence: Does not come easily. Value the work that went into it.

J
Jewelry: Silver mostly. Almost never a watch. Dragonfly necklace.
Jail: A great place to meet guys. A fun place to learn how to take what you're dealt. In my opinion, you've made some really big mistakes if you end up incarcerated. Easy for me to judge, living on this side of the law & my good luck.
Jenga: I really hate this game.
Jammies: 24-7. Unless I need to go out.

K
Kids: Are really cute until they are about 9.
Karaoke: Is for drunk people & people who can actually sing.
Kicks: Soccer, rugby, climbing, swimming
Kiss: Would be nice.

L
Longest ...: Night of my life --- lost in the woods in Ontario, sleeping on a granite rock, in the pouring rain.
Love: What else is there?
Life: Just this one time around. Don't f*** it up.
Lost: Something important that I thought was dispensable, at the time.

M
Milk: Icy cold, with hot fresh brownies. 2%.
Miss: Noun: My title at work ("Miss G"); verb: a daily emotion. Miss my cat, my childhood, my old house, my grandfather, my old boyfriend, my old room, a certain tree, the way the sky looked that one day.
Movies: Not as fun as they used to be because most people are assholes.
Memory: The fox that ran across the road and pounced high into the air then straight down, both paws on a mouse.

N
Nails: Short as I can stand them
No: To skydiving. I don't care if I should do it once. I will never do it. What? I'm a wuss? Fine. A wuss who loves & respects the inevitability of gravity. See how I lie on my belly and kiss the ground. Ooooh, sweet gravity. Come here & lay a big dirt smooch on me.
Name: Muthana
Never: To hang-gliding either. See above.

O
Ordinary: My expectations regarding most things.
One: The number of times I will let you hurt my feelings.
Office: The best show on TV.
Only: A word that helps me to expect less and to be patient.

P
Pet Peeves: Huge gums. Snapping gum. Cracking knuckles. Tailgaters.
Primal urge: to break something so utterly that it can never be repaired.
Personality: so much more important than anything else.
Pain: An everyday reality.

Q
Quick: to laugh, to judge, to respond, to change my mind, to smile, to think of an alternative
Quirk: I suck rocks for the salty taste.
Qualms: About staying put. About changing.
Quest: To leave a thumbprint on your life.

R
Reason to ...: forgive. That we're all just doing the best we can.
Reality TV: The bane of intelligence, and my secret pleasure. Yes, I watched every single episode of Temptation Island.
Rage: A blinding red streak that I have not seen in a very long time.
Regret: Why does this one always come up? Just one, I said.

S
Song: My body sings my soul.
Season: Autumn's first crisp chill.
Shoes: Bare toes, painted watermelon.
Silly: The child in us.

T
Time: Don't bring work home so that your time at home is your own.
Ticklish: Trained myself not to be ticklish on the bottoms of my feet because I used to lie on my stomach and read with my feet in the air; my dad would tickle them when he went by, and I liked that he did that. I didn't want to flinch.
Taste: Very Pottery Barn, very Pier 1. Also, I love toile, but don't have much in my house.
Torment: Sleeplessness. Looking at the clock, knowing I have to work in 4 .. 3 ... 2 hours.

U
Undress: The minute I get home from work, and put on my PJ pants and tank top.
Unpredictable: Most things strike me as funny, and I laugh at the wrong time.
Unfortunate: I got the job and you didn't. Doesn't mean you have to be mad at me.
Unforgettable: It started to drizzle as we walked through the rhododendrons, and you reached back through the leaves for my hand.

V
Vegetables: Anything but okra.
Virgin: Olive Oil
Vacation: Tuscany
Voice: Alto

W
Worst Habit: Sleeping too long; soaking dishes instead of just washing them already
Wish: World peace, of course. Are we almost there?
Waste: I don't like to throw things out, so I give them away.
Wander: Paralyzing fear of getting lost as I drive in the car. To desensitize myself I drive and get lost on purpose, then find my way out. I don't think it has helped much.

X
X-Rated: Porn is gross.
X-Rays: It freaks me out that you can see people's bones, and a nail in their head.
X-Men: Still waiting for the first one to get here from Blockbuster.com so that I can watch 2 and 3 and see what all the hype is about.
X-marks the spot: I hide dollars from myself in the pockets of my winter clothes, to find later.

Y
Year born: 1968
Yes: to cheese.
Yellow: and orange, two colors I don't wear.
Yearn: secret words whispered into my hair at sunset

Z
Zoo Animal: Tiger
Zodiac: Scorpio. Ain't it obvious?!?
Zealous: about Mozart. If you love him too, then you understand.
Zzzz: My bed is the best place in the world.

Q & A. Whatev.

If you could choose one vice in exclusion of all others what would it be?
That would probably be gluttony. Or violent sexual love. Is that a vice?

If you could change one specific thing about the world what would it be?
The fact that I am answering these questions. Oh, and the disrupted ecological balance caused by overpopulation of certain species. And that there are Osmonds.

Name the cartoon character you identify with the most?
Calvin. Or maybe Opus.

If you could live one day in your life over again which would it be?
Each & everyone one, without changing a thing. OK, that is a lie. There are too many to choose just one. So maybe I'll just make tomorrow the one that makes up for everything.

If you could go back in history and spend a day with one person who would it be?
Probably this guy.

What is your one most important contribution to this world?
That I can reach out and wrap my hand in your guts, and pull.

What is your one hidden talent that nearly no one knows about?
I can lie backwards on a piano bench and play Bach's Minuet in G with my hands up over my head.

What is your most cherished possession?
Actual object? My treasure chest of photos. Intangible possession? My wit.

What one person influenced your life the most growing up?
My grandfather.

What one word describes you better than any other?
Temperamental.

What is one thing you lost or sold or threw away that you wish you could have back?
Every time you ask me this, I tell you the same thing. It is a secret.

I Might Be Am White Trash.

Back in the fall of 2005, I posted a favorite series of mine entitled I Might Be White Trash (IMBWT); I took it down, because it contained too many photos of me (see 2006 Blogging Crisis). But I loved it, I miss it. I'd like to post it here for just a few days for you all to enjoy a second (or first!) time. This opportunity to mock/rub one out will only last for a short while, so please take advantage!

IMBWT I

Pass the Pipe Around!

Circa 1988

Ahhh yes ... a proud moment. SG tokes up before the formal. Check out the big hair. And what's with the paw on my shoulder? (The identity of my date is masked because I fucked him and don't remember his name he is now the CEO of a major corporation [click photo to reveal].)

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IMBWT II

Possums for pets.

circa 1990

The mother opossum was struck by a car; I was student teaching, and my supervising teacher rescued the babies that had been riding on her back. There were 6 total. We bottle-raised them on kitten formula. I used to walk around the dorm with 3 hanging from each finger, by their tails. They smelled. My sister (roommate) loved that. Almost as much as when I kept my boyfriend's rifle hidden under my bed for him.

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IMBWT III

Bunnies

Circa 1987

My friend Emme (3rd from left) was babysitting her roommate's 2 rabbits for the summer. SG, her sister, and her friends thought it was sooooo funny to put the 2 bunnies together and watch them go at it. At the end of the summer, Emme returned 17 rabbits to her roommate. What we learned: Bunnies always do what bunnies do best, when given the slightest opportunity!

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IMBWT IV

Celebrating in Style

circa 2005

I tied two beautiful balloons to my hoopty and drove it all over town.

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IMBWT V

Dinner is Served

circa 1984

Only a true back-woods gal like 15-year-old Spinning Girl could catch, clean, & cook a carp ... all while rockin' this lovely tube top unitard!

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IMBWT VI

Ready to Party Hearty

circa 1987

18-year-old SG thinks she's going out to party at the bar known as Ted's on the UConn campus. Ted's serves draft beer in plastic cups, lays plastic tarps on its floors on weekends, and checks ID's rigorously. She hopes she impresses the bouncer with this big hair and drinking-age-ish eyeliner (she does indeed, and stays 'til last call, winning 3 games of darts and losing her shoes somewhere). All that's missing is a tube top!

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IMBWT VII

Tire Fire

circa 1986

When SG and her college dorm-pals went camping, they sometimes didn't have wood to burn, or the wood was too wet. Solution?: Burn old tires! Yes. Do you think there may have been any carcinogens in that smoke?

SG and her friend smile, oblivious that the insides of their lungs are coated with the same burnt-rubber soot that coats their skin. Smart move! (The identity of my friend is masked because I fucked her and I don't remember her name she is still my friend, and I don't know if she'd like her picture up on the web. Especially after we fooled around.)

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IMBWT VIII

Lock & Load!

circa 1989

Instead of fixing the mass spectrophotometer and getting to work analyzing samples, SG and her professor spent hours at the gun club, where he taught her how to fire several different types of revolvers, a shotgun, and a few semi-automatic pistols. Why, you ask? Because that is what you do in a chemistry independent study!!! Our targets were person-shaped bullseyes of paper; unfortunately, none of them remained in pieces larger than a square centimeter, so no photos available.

New & Improved Word Cloud

I thought it would be fun to compare Word Clouds from last year and this year to see what words I use more/less frequently. The most-used words are biggest and boldest.

I guess it's not as interesting as I had hoped.

But it is sort of revealing to see who emerges, who remains, who has dropped out of the picture, and what topics come up here is Spinnerland.

NOW

Word Cloud December 2006

THEN

Word Cloud February 2006

Pomegranate Repost

I'm sort of busy, so I'm reposting this longie but goodie, one of my meditations of yore. You might want to go away & return to read it in bits, but make sure you do come back for all of it. It will change your life.

I love eating pomegranates. I love how the fruity little regiments are all lined up, these little podlings of bursting juice and one hard little seed, waiting for me to pluck them from their nests and explode their flavor onto my tongue. It's meditative, in a way: Pluck, pop. Pluck, pop. Pluck, pop. Meditative ... … Meditative ...

Shopping at Macy's last Sunday was a head trip. They are playing Christmas Music. Christmas music!!!! On November 6th! Apparently, according to their customer service, by "customer request" they start the music the same time they start their holiday displays, which is now. Apparently the customers didn't realize the start date would be just after Halloween. Hearing "Chestnuts Roasted on an Open Spit" or whatever, as sung tremulously and nauseatingly by Aaron Neville, over the high-volume / low fidelity dressing room speaker, was just as bit much for me; I was already aggravated with trying to stuff my 42 D's into a 40 C.

Also in Macy's lingerie department, there was a man. A creepy man. An oldish man, maybe 60, with slicked-back hair and a loosely fitting suit. Shiny shoes. Looked like a smoker. This man was fingering the panties. Yes, he was petting them and draping them across his hand in a very unsettling way. Unsettling to watch, that is. I was picturing him whispering, in his mind, yessss ...…oh yessss my pretty things ... this is where her kitty goes, right here ... where my hand is ... my hand is touching the lace that will be where her kitty is ... Ew. Later he would be pulling out these mental images and repeating these phrases as muffled shouts into his pillow. Then again, maybe he was just shopping for his girlfriend. Or niece. Or something. What do I know? I don't know from perverts.

I used to work with Miss Diane the mirror lady. From Romper Room. Yes, it's true. She is now a teacher aide in a Connecticut school district. She gave me this postcard to remember her by. She is nice, a little bit wacky; she wears flip flops every day because (according to her) her feet get hot from all the hot peppers she consumes. She doesn't say "I see Billy, I see Bobby, I see Molly, I see Sally" to the kids. I know you were wondering that.

When I was in 6th grade, I was running down the hall with clogs and I sprained my ankle. The janitor found me on the floor and carried me to the nurse's office. I felt a little embarrassed about that, especially when I (we) passed some other kids; they weren't my friends, so it wasn't too bad. Actually, did I have friends in 6th grade? I don't remember any. I was sort of weird. In 6th grade I hated this kid Julian who had a mop of curly hair and who always had some sort of crust around his nose. That's all I remember from 6th grade, besides simple machines. Oh, and Mr. Shaw, my social studies teacher. He looked like the Heat Miser, but he was really nice. I did steal his eraser, though. He had a really slippery, white eraser, which was resting on his desk and just calling out to me. I took it. I still have it. Sometimes I cuddle it at night and just cry and cry.

In 7th grade I wore a pink velour v-neck sweater with a white dickie under it to school. I loved the dickie; all the warmth and comfort of a turtleneck, but without all those annoying sleeves and a shirt bottom to tuck! I didn't change for gym that day for some reason (now they call it PE, but it's gym, dammit!); I just took the dickie off. The v-neck was horribly low cut, and during kickball it slid really low and when I bent over I could sometimes look down and see my own little budding breasts peeking out. I hoped no one else could; I just pulled it back up and kept running, my little pointies just bouncing up & down behind the velour. When I went back into the locker room, some 8th grade girls were there and one of them said, "why don't you wear a bra, you slut?" I didn't know what a slut was, but it didn't sound good so that weekend I asked my mom for a bra. She took me shopping and we got a training bra (that's a little bra with 2 wheels on each side, so you can train yourself to lie on your stomach and slide, which you'll be doing a lot of in just a few short years!). The first time I wore it was at my cousin's ice skating recital, and my aunt (who was sitting behind me) snapped the back of it. That was a high point in my puberty.

Hmmm, I'm just noticing that this post has a definite, albeit weak, erotic thread to it. But not normal erotic, more like back-pages-of-the-Advocate-type-stuff. I don't read those, but I have heard rumors (sexy couple seeks bedroom third; he sucks your nose while she watches! Please be disease and drug free!) Trust me, I don't know from pervs; I'm just telling my story. By the way, does Astroglide wash out of taffeta? Just asking. No reason.

I think I missed out on a drama career. I was a star in my third grade production of The Mikado (I was one of the 3 Little Maids From School). Martin S. was the lead. He was The Mikado, and he was a fourth grader! A man!!! You can see how much I love him in the photo above.


I haven't baked an apple pie in several years. In fact, I think the one I dropped on the floor was the last one I baked. We still ate it; the parts that weren't actually sitting on linoleum. It was a bittersweet time, filled with deliciousness and self-loathing, all packaged into one psycholgoically f***ed up bundle. Time to heal and bake another one. My favorite pie is -- of course -- pumpkin.

When I was a lifeguard, a little boy came up to my chair requesting some First Aid care. He had a swollen lip. I asked him what had happened; had he scraped his lip on the bottom? Hit it on the edge? No, he told me. He and a friend were playing in the creek, and one of them caught a baby snapping turtle. The friend told Boy that the turtle smelled, so Boy bent down to smell it and the turtle bit him. I guess it held on for a while, because there was a nasty welt.

Lifeguarding was such a great job. The best days were rainy days, when nobody was at the town pool (a manmade lake, really). We would float around on kickboards and search for money on the bottom of the pool. There was a lot of it, because of all of the people who swam with cutoff shorts. We would take all the money we found and order pizza for the lifeguards. We didn't spend the turds we found, we just left them to roll around on the bottom. Domino's doesn't accept turds as currency.

All of the young girl lifeguards were subjected to a ritual known as shake-n-bake by the older (college-age) lifeguard boys. Two or more boys would grab a girl, dip her in the water, then carry her up to the sand and dip / roll her until she was covered. Ahhh, good times. I loved being an object. I wish somebody would objectify me now; life is easier when you are a piece of flesh and not an intellectual, professional woman.

That's why I liked Little House on the Prairie so much. Boy, those women had it easy. All they did was sit on their asses and sew quilts all day. At night Pa would come home with a bear leg or a rabbit and they'd all sit down to eat it in the near-dark cabin. So cozy, so simple. Oh sure, sometimes they had Scarlet Fever or Malaria and one or the other of them died or went blind, but they were living it up on the frontier!!!!

So, I've plucked all the seeds from this pomegranate. My belly is full and my mind is emptied for now. These meditations are really helping me to get in touch with the Great Unknown, I think. The Dalai Lama would be so proud of me. Don't you agree?

Nuggets (a.k.a. imitation = obsession flattery)

My cat-fur LOVAH did a post called nuggets, and since I love her so much, and I am a copycat, I thought I would do nuggets too.

It is very important to me that you all love me, unconditionally if at all possible, and embracing my numerous flaws ... and also that I get my counter up to 100,000 before Christmas. Please help me by posting your comments one word (or preferably one letter) at a time. I remember when I was at 10,000 hits, and look at me now! Bitchez!!!!

What could be cuter than my kids all sitting & reading the Science Times? I let them put their feet up so they would feel more relaxed (also for a yearbook photo).

I have often wondered why doves are always in such a freaking panic. Everyday on my walk, if I startle a dove, it's always like "twuh twuh twuh twuh twuuuuuh!" and flies away as if the devil himself was after him. I don't even eat doves, you freak! Why can't you just hop away, like a crow? Crows are annoying, but at least they aren't fucktards like doves.

I get a little bit personal about birds. Sorry. I love them. Unlike some people. One of my blog-pals hit an eagle with his car (by accident of course) the other day and I am still upset over it. I am starting to wonder if it was really an eagle. Could it have been a hawk (still bad) or a vulture (no biggie there)? I want to ask him but I don't want to obsess on it, since that's not what the post was really about. Maybe you can tell me by email. You know who you aaaaaare.

Every Christmas I have written a letter, and they have always been a great creative outlet for me, but last year I didn't do one because all my creative juices get smeared all over the internets. I want to do one this year, but need to get inspired. I don't have a 4-year-old's soccer exploits to brag about!

They so do. As do Chem geeks.

Which brings me to the fact that I have a mini crush on my friend Miko; kind of a big one, actually. Do you think it would enhance our friendship if I whipped out my boobies when I see him this weekend? I did the cross-over friend thing once, with Neighb, and it didn't work out. If it did work out, though, how great that would be! I find I often let my heart lead me into bad decisions (right, assmuppet?) and then I have regrets. But I also believe one should "Leap, and the net appears." So maybe I should leap on Miko.

Y'all pull up a stool and set a spell.

'Cause I got stuff to say. And when I say it, I want you here listenin'.

I actually have a cowgirl outfit quite similar to this.

The Blogging thing is hard for me sometimes; in the beginning it was easier to be honest on my blog and to say how I really felt about things, but as more and more people have started reading it (including family and close friends), it gets harder to do that. It’s like when you go to a new city and in the beginning you can act like a big asshole because nobody knows you; but as you become a member of the community, you reel it in a bit. At least I do. Either that or move to a new town so I can keep being an asshole.

Mostly, my creativity gets in a rut sometimes; I just don’t have enough feelings about things to be able to write well. I find I need to be angry or humorously annoyed to be able to write really well. When I’m just plodding through my relaxing summer, there isn’t much to say. Then one day I wake up & realize that my blog feels like a chore, and that is when I take a break. Or post really simple stuff, or dwell in my childhood by revisiting Sesame Street episodes that make me happy.

While on my short break, I discovered that I am seething with feelings! Yes, it is true! At the moment, I find myself mostly pissed off. Here are some of the things I am pissed off about:

 The stupid 20 year old girls in choir who won’t shut up and even have the nerve to talk on the cell phone. DURING REHEARSAL!

 The teacher on my team (who brought the dog to work) who won’t shut up when I am trying to run a meeting, and the other teacher who sits across from her and shouts back at her. It’s like Cage Match, and I’m the referee.

 The way Shepherd Boy appears in my dreams unexpectedly, and then acts like we’ve been talking for the past 13 years instead of this void of silence that I hate so much.

 I’m mad at alcohol, because why does it have to be something that is so nice and so fun and oh, this red goes so nicely with the veal, and then suddenly one day you wake up more hung-over than you have ever been in your life and realize it’s a problem for you? Why couldn’t it just stay fun and easy? And I can’t ever go back to fun and easy, because I am past that. Fuck you, ETOH!

 When I wrote you the long email about my MS diagnosis, this comment, which I guess was the best you could do: “Wow, that is a lot to digest.” Yeah, sorry my multiple scle-fuckin-RO-sis is so hard for you. Guess I overestimated you. Don’t talk to me; if you do, I’ll just pretend I was talking about someone else.

 Although I feel like I have a right to make jokes like this, and that makes me happy.

Now if I can get a few scary dolls, teddy bears, or thumb-sucking teenage girls (my best rant ever, and worth the click) back into my life, I’ll really have some fodder for the mill.

Until then, please just lie on top of me and wiggle so I can feel better and release some of this anger.

The Down & Dirty Blog Frolic (II): Tickle Torture, Spinnerina Style

The subject: Spinning Girl, freshly home from vacation and bleary-eyed from her month of homelessness. Having subjected herself to an open question-and-answer session here, she must now face the music.

Slyde said... a question, huh? ok...why don't you ever call? It’s lonely out here in the cyberverse...p.s. it was nice to see you drop by the site the other week. I was honored :)
I tried to call, but it keeps telling me that you were away from your desk at the moment, or with a client. What do you do, work for a living?!? Also, your blog is hot stuff; your template messes with my browser, though, so I only stop by when I have the patience.

miss kendra said... how far is spinning girl's house, Connecticut from say, Salem Massachusetts? And would spinning girl's house be amenable to a visit say, around the holidays, were someone from California to find herself suddenly on the east coast?
I am exactly 101.101 miles from Salem. This distance can be traversed by the spinmobile in less than 2 hours. Your wish is my command! Beware, though, for Salem (as you well know) is a hotbed of anti-feminine activity. I speak, of course, of the witch trials of old.

Übermilf said... Let no one claim Estonian women aren't hot.
This story speaks for itself. And let us not forget the hottie in the ballpit. Meowr!

DaMasta said... When can I move in?
Yesterday. No, the day before.


"K" Fingerett said... I'm sorry, I'm still stuck on your last "Discuss" post aka the "wtf post" ...Now for a question...Maybe I missed it, because you post so often and I don't get on hear as much as I used to... But, what ever happened to the monkey?
Since you are relatively new to the scene, and started coming around after the Monkey heyday, I will forgive your use of the term “The Monkey”. I must warn you, however, that he would be greatly disdained by your use of this term. He is simply “Monkey”; just as you aren’t “The Fingerett.” I won’t tell him, though, and let’s just keep your error on the QT; otherwise we would be covered with pellets o’ poo.

As for Monkey’s whereabouts, I believe he is resting. After our visit in January, when we fell in love, Monkey was quite heartbroken. He has been spotted from time to time, which eases my mind as to his well-being. Monkeys need their rest, and his hiatus corresponds perfectly with the hibernation period (a little-known fact) of wild monkeys, so I am not worried. If I see him, I will tell him that you asked after him.

Lee Ann said... Why do men have nipples?
To hold their titanium jewelry, of course.

UberGoober said... What is the air speed and velocity of a Sparrow carrying a one-pound coconut?
To answer this question, please consult the following pictogram.

Then, use this simple formula to do the necessary calculations. Duh!

Lightning Bug's Butt said... Do you think tumbleweeds ever find the other bushes lazy?
It is well known that tumbleweeds have a rather holier-than-thou attitude in their approach to all other flora.

Madge said... Do you have any pets?
I had the most wonderful cat, Juku, who died in 2001 of heart failure. I may have another cat soon, now that I don’t have a bitchy landlord.

tits mcgee said... Why do birds suddenly appear every time you are near?
Because, just like you, they long to be close to me.

Brooke said... Do you wanna make love? Or do you just wanna fool around?
Is it the first date? Then no. But if we've been out a few times, I'll let you feel me up over my sweater, a little bit.

Juliabohemian said... Why a chicken? Why not a duck?
My thoughts exactly. The goose is also under-represented.

Osbasso said... Verdi "Requiem" in May, 2007. Wanna come out?

Music brings people together.

B.E. Earl said... Why hasn't "Boy's Life" by McCammon been adapted to the big screen yet?
Way overdue. I would hope the director could do it justice. Otherwise, I’d prefer my imagination to any artist’s rendering. Definitely one of my top 5 favorite books of ALL TIME (trust me on this one, folks, and go out & get it).

Kat said... ...seeing as it's been on my mind lately...how do you feel about half torsos?
On myself, I prefer a whole torso. In art, I much prefer a half torso to a headless full torso.

kris said... Dear SG, Not the most positive question, but . . .What is your biggest regret?
I have a few regrets, which I keep to myself. My biggest regret involves throwing something away, which I needed later. But I believe that DaMasta’s no-regrets philosophy is a good one, and I try to model myself after that now that I have discovered it. Thanks, chica, for helping me to live a better life.

jamwall said... yeah, what's your new address? Its time to resume the swap-o-crap proceedings! :) you can e-mail that to me, btw.WORD VERIFICATION: YVEGBOY <--- yodeling veggie boy

The swap-o-crap is one of my favorite blog inventions. Bring it on!

DaMasta said... ... And how soon after I move in can I start sleeping in your bed?
Right after you buy me dinner and rub my feet, just like everybody else. Plus, you are already in the pigpile, so it's just a matter of acquiring a proper blanket.

Anonymous said... are you really related to jiggs casey?
Jiggs and I hope to marry, so after we tie the knot he will be related to me and all my brood.

hyena9 said... What is your personal philosophy on life?
Don’t overthink it.

Bill said ... I have several questions:

Why is it funnier to say bum than it is to say ass?
I must disagree. But funnier than both of these is “coolie”, and the topper is “gadonkadonk”.

Why do very old men on buses who sit beside you make unconscious loud smacking sounds with their lips?
Because, despite the fact that their ears are huge, they can’t actually hear well enough to know that they are making sounds.

How do people tell the difference between a fart and a dump? I mean, how do they know they aren't just going to shit their pants when they let go?
I find potty humor childish and tasteless (as evidenced here and here), so I will not dignify that with a response.

mp said... Why do you pretend not to be a lesbian?
Because most of the gals who hit on me really aren’t my type, and I hope that by laying low I will happen upon the love of my life unexpectedly at Home Depot.

Dave Morris said... Do bees do doobies?
No.

jiggs said... she sells sea shells by the sea shore. Can you say that 5 times fast?
Watch your mail for the bill to replace my monitor after it blew a fuse because of “moisture of unknown origin”.

BadGod said... What is Fermat's Last Theorem? How was it solved? Which is more powerful, gravity or electricity? What is the biological basis of consciousness? The GUT-Power (Grand Unified Theory) was divided into four fundamental powers. Name them and your least favorite sexual position.

In Xanadu did Kubla Khan
A stately pleasure-dome decree:
Where Alph, the sacred river, ran
Through caverns measureless to man
Down to a sunless sea.
So twice five miles of fertile ground
With walls and towers were girdled round:
And there were gardens bright with sinuous rills,
Where blossomed many an incense-bearing tree;
And here were forests ancient as the hills,
Enfolding sunny spots of greenery.
But oh! that deep romantic chasm which slanted
Down the green hill athwart a cedarn cover !
A savage place! as holy and enchanted
As e'er beneath a waning moon was haunted
By woman wailing for her demon-lover !
And from this chasm, with ceaseless turmoil seething,
As if this earth in fast thick pants were breathing,
A mighty fountain momently was forced:
Amid whose swift half-intermitted burst
Huge fragments vaulted like rebounding hail,
Or chaffy grain beneath the thresher's flail:
And 'mid these dancing rocks at once and ever
It flung up momently the sacred river.
Five miles meandering with a mazy motion
Through wood and dale the sacred river ran,
Then reached the caverns measureless to man,
And sank in tumult to a lifeless ocean:
And 'mid this tumult Kubla heard from far
Ancestral voices prophesying war!
The shadow of the dome of pleasure
Floated midway on the waves;
Where was heard the mingled measure
From the fountain and the caves.
It was a miracle of rare device,
A sunny pleasure-dome with caves of ice!
A damsel with a dulcimer
In a vision once I saw:
It was an Abyssinian maid,
And on her dulcimer she played,
Singing of Mount Abora.
Could I revive within me
Her symphony and song,
To such a deep delight 'twould win me,
That with music loud and long,
I would build that dome in air,
That sunny dome! those caves of ice !
And all who heard should see them there,
And all should cry, Beware! Beware!
His flashing eyes, his floating hair!
Weave a circle round him thrice,
And close your eyes with holy dread,
For he on honey-dew hath fed,
And drunk the milk of Paradise.
(Kubla Khan or A Vision in a Dream, a Fragment -- Samuel Taylor Coleridge.)


... and my favorite position is the one where you keep scrubbing and scrubbing the blackboard while I stand over you and thrash you with a shelalegh, insisting that it is still dirty, and then you cry.

BadGod said... Also......Name three machines that are 'soulful' according to Jeremy Clarkson. I’m waiting, woman.
1. The George Foreman grill.
2. The close-and-play record player.
3. The weed whacker.

t2ed said... Why did Chris Robinson & Kate Hudson?
Because Nipsy Russel.

Rrramone said... Why?
Because no matter how high the ladder climbs, there’s always one more rung.

And because you were bad.

Sleep Goblin said... How likely is Spinning Girl to be in the Louisville, Kentucky area on October 21st, when her good friend Sleep Goblin is getting married?
I’ve consulted my astrological chart, and my magic 9-ball. While most signs point to “probably not”, there is a giant possibility of some serious snail-mail-love coming your way right around that time.

Bill said... How many times have you watched "Christmas in Connecticut"?
Precisely zero. Celebrated Christmas ... 37 times.

MadMeer said... You know what would be good? If you would stop being on holiday, that is what would be good. Okay okay. I'll ask your damn question, but I won't like it! What should I be when I grow up? Oh, and now that I am unpacked, I have something for you. Can you send me your address? I promise it will not be anything stored in a Christmas tin.
Bring it on! As for what you should be when you grow up, how about a pastry chef? In my own kitchen?

miss kendra said... when will my lawyer get the insurance company to give me my damn money so I can move on with my life?
Yesterday. No, the day before.

Will I be as cool as you someday?
Honey, your level of coolness is my goal.

FRITZ said... What does your favorite bra look like?
I prefer to support my breasts with one of these.

Lee Ann said... How long are you going to be gone?
This time, only a week. Someday, I will be gone forever.

FU said... what's green and smells like pork?............Kermit’s finger.ok.. Not really a question. coz I gave the answer.ok here's a question: do you get dizzy from constantly spinning?
That is a great joke. It gives me a visual that is unmatched in its ability to promote dry heaves. As for spinning, I don’t actually spin on the Z axis (as BOBI once imagined). Instead, I spin a long and winding tale.


Bill said... Where the hell are you holidaying? The moon? Get your ass back here!
I brought you some green cheese and an American flag that I found.

Ricardo Montalbán said... Why have you forsaken me?
Tattoo was my first love, you know.

Freiya said... Hmmmm, a question.......what sky type event (like eclipses, northern lights, pretty atmospheric stuff) do you want to see most? oh and a more general one, what one item you have would you save if you could only save one thing?
I would love to see the green flash. And if I could save just one thing, it would be my leather box full of photos.


jiggs said... you're back!!!
Barely!


Kat said... I concur with Bill. It’s very hard to stalk someone when you don't know where they are.the wv gods need me to round up the pigs now: runhogz
Soooo-eeeeeee!
I have so many restraining orders against people from blogland; one more won’t make a difference.

aughra said... The first election you ever voted in, and what about it that made you passionate about politics. This is assuming that you are passionate about politics. But, why did you choose that election as your first, and for whom did you vote?
The very first election I voted in was in second grade when we had to vote for the class hall monitor for the month of October. I chose Amy Campbell, because I liked her red hair; it made her seem feisty and strong. Later that year she untied my wrap-around skirt and it fell down in front of the whole cafeteria, and I regretted my choice. Fuck you, Amy Campbell! As for political elections, I think the next one will matter most of all.


DaMasta said... I missed you, too! So glad you're back.
There’s no place like home. (repeat 3x)