Vacation Meditation

I'm on this lovely little getaway, which I believe helps me to delve back into my writing brain. This is so much easier to do when I am not faced with the daily tasks of teaching, dinner, laundry, putting out the trash (hope jamwall remembers to do so in my absence ... ::knock knock:: cutie? couldja get on that?) So I've just been going on lovely little walks, and getting massages, and hot-tubbing, and dining. It is so lovely. All sort of thoughts creep in... float along on my stream of consciousness, won't you now?

I use "lovely" over-much in my speech. What a lovely word it is.

I went into this tiny, cluttered rock shop and got sucked into a conversation with the proprietor, who would not let me get a word or an excuse in... it was all about his past teaching career and how strict he was about kids using his equipment and how board of education kids get special treatment; all the stuff I'm trying to get away from. Talking, talking, talkinggggggg. I stayed the requisite polite amount of time and then began inching towards the door. All the while my brain was screaming, get out! get out! oh Goddddd, I'm going to die here. I was imagining my mummified remains being found hundreds of years in the future, one desiccated hand clinging to a coffee cup, the other to a doorknob. I was saved by my cell phone ringing, and I became one of those people, the ones who grab their cell phones and run out of a store. I only to pretended to answer, because I didn't want to talk to that person, either.

I really don't want to talk to anyone, sometimes.

Don't you feel just a tiny bit superior to the disgusting slobs around you when you return your cart to the grocery store paddock instead of leaving it astray in the parking lot? I know I do. My nodding benevolence was not affected in the least (well, perhaps slightly...) by the fact that the only reason why I returned the cart was that the cart lackey was out and about in the parking lot, collecting errant carts, and I wanted him to see just what a good citizen I was. Not like those others.

I'm always fascinated by blue toilet water, and by the alluring shade of green that it turns after I tinkle in it. Not that I ever looked, no no. I'm not disgusting. I'm just speculating. It would be OK if I looked though, wouldn't it?

It's difficult to be truly honest.

There is a little tot screaming so loudly outside that I feel compelled to go to the window and see what is the matter with it. I once heard a horrible story about a baby screaming in its crib and the mother ignoring it, ignoring, ignoring ... and then finally checking, only to discover that the family pet raccoon had eaten the baby's fingers. Horrifying. Now whenever I hear a baby screaming I yell, No, Bandit, no! Down, Bandit! Bad, bad Mr. McStripes!

I'm generally afraid of being partially eaten. I also read a Reader’s Digest Drama in Real Life story about a woman whose face was eaten by a cougar. I believe I have written of this before. Now when I walk in the woods alone, which is seldom (because of said cougar), I find myself touching my cheeks and wondering if my face is tasty. I do have a little bit of extra fat here & there, especially on my tushie, and I think a cougar would prefer that to my face. But you never know. I don't know from cougars. I believe I would much prefer to be swallowed whole, like Jonah. And Pinocchio. Even at age 7 I recognized that Pinocchio couldn't possibly be true. It wasn't the woodenness of the lad that told me; it was the fact that while he was in the whale’s stomach he remained completely intact; even I know that he would be wallowing in acids strong enough to burn a hole in a rug.

Why, when Biology teachers speak of stomach acid (HCl), is it always a rug that gets a hole burned in it?

And why oh why do I feel driven to sniff every little item that I put into the laundry, and then sniff again when I take them out? Why can't I just trust?

It is difficult to let go and just trust. Leap, and the net appears.

It would be delightful to try that, just once. I guess once would be all the chance I get, if it isn't true.

Meme Summer 2008: Textures

I've decided that in order to keep my writing mind lubricated, I need to write just about every day. I have to force myself away from the endless picking up of clutter and mulching and dusting that seems to fill my days, and tickle the creative muse. I don't care if I need to rely on a prompt on a meme to help me to do so; hence, I have turned to resources such as Daydreaming on Paper to help me. Now then ... welcome to Meme Summer 2008! This festival will last the entire summer, or else as long as I feel like it.

10 Textures I Enjoy Touching

1. bowls of small, round objects


2. lotion applied to wet skin


3. eggplant and banana skins


4. hot, sun-baked concrete or Spanish tile


5. aloe leaf (and other succulents)


6. cat fur (while still on the cat ... rolling around under the couch, not so much)


7. bird feathers (while still on the bird)


8. beaded fabric


9. tree trunk


10. just-mowed lawn (touched with feet)

writing notes in class

Today I sat in a workshop for 8 hours; sometimes I wrote things down. I wrote my bucket list, which I'll share tomorrow, and this:

I also flipped through a whole body + soul magazine, and got some great tips for living green, which I'll also share. It's amazing what you can learn when you have a chance to sit still for a few minutes!!!

Today in New York: a list of sights, sounds & thoughts

• wow, it's 11:00 already?!?
• Starbucks
• Greenwich Village
• Arch
• potato-leek soup
• warm hands
• a homeless person sleeping in the doorway
• just a penny will help!
• wow, he's eating something out of the garbage
• dogs in sweaters
• a baby in a fur-lined coat that says "baby phat"
• chess sets with an Elvis theme, and Wizard of Oz, and Simpsons
• cheese fondue, followed by chocolate, at Swizzle restaurant
• blue lights in the windows
• a fountain by Rockefeller Center
• taxi driver from hell
• mmmmmmm melted chocolate
• "she says to me, dude, you gotta pull your pants up."
• my hotel key stopped working
• this bed is huge and comfortable

Sunday morning list from inside my head.

• I can't believe I am going to go tutor a kid on a Sunday.
• What was I thinking?!?!?
• Hmm, I think Jamwall makes much better coffee than me. Mine tastes brown.
• Where can I buy juniper berries?
• Norton kinda sucks.
• Do you think they make the subscription key impossible to find so that I will just upgrade to make my life easier?
• I think so.
• Daily posting will make me a better blogger.
• You know what else would make me better?
• Posts with substance.
• Oh, I've only been blocked for about a year now.
• Did anyone notice?
• Is blogging dying out?
• What's the next new thing?

In the pink

So what happened was I suddenly got really busy, and it's like this crazy manic energy that keeps me just running running running like a hamster in the wheel I can't really spend a lot of time on creativity because all my energy is going into the projects, these amazing projects the kids are turning out which are due in two days and after that I will just crash, maybe. One day last week we had a really fun day that included a 12-on-12 tug of war and food, there was cake, lots of it. And of course it is so lovely outside the trees are blooming and dropping all their petals it's like a giant pink snowstorm so every day I go out and sweep my driveway of the petals. I wish I could box them up and send them to you but they wither so very quickly. I had a giant party for Cinco de Mayo lots of people came and I bought booze, actual booze, from the alcohol store for others to drink for the margarita punch, the booze store where I felt like a fish out of water funny when I used to make that stop every week, twice three times sometimes and they knew me by name how sad is that? Now if I could just find my Zen place I will turn to my former state of bliss and maybe some ideas will come, I'm a bit blocked in my writing. I think if I did this sort of thing more often then ideas would come. Oh and I still love you, I didn't forget you know.

Grab an oar ...

... and paddle along my stream of consciousness!

Monkey and the Spinning Wheels in January 2006

What follows is an excerpt from my internal dialogue between noon and 1 PM. I climbed into the Spinning Wheels and drove around town! Here is how much fun I had:

• Hmmm ... this construction has been going on a long time. I wonder if they will ever be finished?
• It seems like there's always construction in Connecticut, no matter where you go.
• Oh sure, Town Cop, I'll stop for you. Nice shades.
• You stopped me for that?!? Cutting down a 5' stump of telephone pole?
• Nice shades. Yeah, yeah, I see you waving. I'm a-comin', I'm a-comin'.
• Smile & wave. Thank you, Mr. Policeman! I like your vest that says "Spotter". Were you a "Safety Officer" in elementary school?
• Oooh, sushi here how? Score!
• This light was never here.
• God, it's gorgeous out. I need to open my windows!
• Dayumn, it's windy.
• I should take those Snapple bottles out of the back. If they clink together much more, they might break.
• Ooh, I need lipstick. There we go. Pretty me! Woah --- eyebrows!!! I wonder if Dove Spa waxes on walk-ins?
• I should blog this internal dialogue I am having. I wonder how many people will hate me. I think Miss Kendra did something like this once. I hope she doesn't mind me copying her.*
• I wonder if my internal dialogue is like everyone else's?
• I bet if I say "pubes" in my blog then people will automatically mouth the word to themselves.
• Oooh, hardware store! I need mousetraps. And a 2-prong halogen bulb.
• It's so nice out!!!
• Oh, nice motorcycle, asshat. You are way too small to be driving such a huge bike. Yes, we know you are manly. Wow, the way you rev that engine shows me how big and strong you are. Oh, here we go. Nice signaling, fuckstick. Goodbye!!!
• I can't believe they cut down all these trees to widen the road by five feet. What the hell?
• Let's go see if the new sushi place does takeout. I want some of those tempura crunchies.
  
  Thank you for joining us. Tune in next week as I drive to the dentist!

*[editorial comment: It was Brooke! Brooke! Brooke! My bad.]