My Blue World

I can't take it anymore

2007-05-15T22:17:00.000-05:00

Unlike some of youse highbrow connoisseurs of fine literature, I tend to read whatever's lying around, like a clearance copy of 1916 by Morgan Llywelyn that Alex had picked up from work, on a whim I'm sure, because of it's subject matter.

I'm on page 177. On page 175 was this sentence : "He's a mathematics teacher from County Limerick. Name's Eamon de Valera. He's half Irish and half Spanish, but I heard somewhere he was born in America."

The main character's Ned, a scrappy young lad who survived the Titanic just to be subjected to clunky, expository dialogue such as this. Oh the humanity!

I'm back... or was I ever really here?

2007-03-04T11:08:00.000-06:00

Well, was I?

Does anybody really know what time it is?

Does anybody really care

ABOUT TIME?????

Man, that just blew my mind!

2006-09-21T18:55:00.000-05:00

i want to meet her
the woman who makes you so happy
they can read it on your fingertips while
if they knew me
they'd have to see it in my dreams

2006-09-21T17:13:00.000-05:00

a ring and a different name
i go through life not me but you and

sometimes i wish i could just fade away melt
no one would know the difference
i am just and

2006-09-18T19:46:00.000-05:00

There are times in everyone's life when they must come face to face with their limitations and realize that they are ordinary, no more , no less. And, dammit, it hurts. The pain starts in your chest and works it's way down to your stomach, like some parasitic worm, ready to choke the very life from you. It devours your daydreams of escaping your mundane workaday life.

2006-09-05T20:13:00.000-05:00

...you can't help respecting anybody who can spell TUESDAY, even if he doesn't spell it right; but spelling isn't everything. There are days when spelling Tuesday simply doesn't count.

2006-08-16T21:12:00.000-05:00

I dreamt of books above the loch and you were the pages I read. In your eyes I saw the story of our life and I want to believe I'll never cry again.

Albums from Alex

2006-08-07T20:33:00.000-05:00

Driving home from West Bend listening to American Beauty and Heartbreaker made me feel as if you were with me even though we had just parted.

Does anybody know what time it is?

2006-08-01T17:02:00.000-05:00

I'm soul tired. I don't know what's wrong with me: the heat? The demon orb sucking my lifeblood like a celestial vampire? I can't write; I sit at the computer and am hypnotized by it's shiny newsness. I can feel Lady Depression clawing at my ankle; she has to use more violent techniques because I'm wise to her tricks now.

Maybe it's people asking me about myself. I hate thinking about who I am. "What kind of music do you like? Mary J. Blige?" What if I would have said YES! More than anything on earth! More than Destiny's Child, more than Justin Fucking Timberlake, more than whoever sings the Lady Lumps or Humps or whatever song! High school insecurities kick in: OMG, what if I say the wrong thing? My mind always goes blank when people ask me questions. Music... like? Me? I guess I am allowed to have opinions! I don't even remember what I said; I think I mentioned jazz, some Thelonious, and then I vaguely remember mentioning The Police for some strange reason. I haven't really listened to them in years, although I was quite fond once in the getting more distant past.

Sometimes I lose who I am, if I really ever existed. Sometimes I wonder.

Funny hahaha

2006-07-16T19:53:00.000-05:00

I don't even remember what site I was on to run across a link to this JenIs Famous.com blog, but needless to say, I'm sure, as some loser from The Heartland, I wasn't supposed to be there. The internet is funny like that; you would think there would be bouncers to insure that the undesirable don't wander about, getting into trouble, and talking back to their social and geographical betters.

So this chick's latest blog is about how fat, ugly tourists from the Midwest wear these ugly sandals into her city, which is... no, I won't ruin it for you. GUESS WHERE!!! It's former holier-than-thou mayor with one of the most annoying girl-boy voices known to American politics is thinking about making a presidential run in 2008. ANNYHOOO... is it really true that no New York native is fat, ugly or ever dressed in anything that is less than, well, you know, FASHIONABLE? I've always wondered that. Just like I've always wondered why cowboys are called cowboys and not steermen.

Hot

2006-07-16T19:16:00.000-05:00

Hot. Brain fried. Not that it doesn't take much to fry my brain but fried it is. I meant to write all day to day but the back of the apartment is unbearable... oh! woe is me!

Now I shall retire to my chaise and (shhh!) loosen my stays before I succumb to an attack of the vapors. I have misplaced my bottle of Mrs. Godley's Elixir For Weak-Nerves so I will have to make due with a bottle of wine. Desperate times call for desperate measures.

Discuss

2006-07-11T10:01:00.000-05:00

Everywhere I go, I'm asked if I think the university stifles writers. My opinion is that they don't stifle enough of them. --Flannery O'Connor

I've always said that I never majored in English because I enjoy reading too much. I suppose I can add that I enjoy writing too much, as well. Technique can be taught; soul cannot. I have read so few writers that have soul that also have permanent teaching positions at unversities; it's a cocoon and a safety net: even if my muse goes on permanent vacation, I can still afford that summer house on the lake! Ah, our intellectual betters. They work so hard for their money!

Unfortuately my soapbox prevents me from locating a book from which to pull a self-indulgent quote but I'm sure I can duplicate something fairly close from memory.

At her father's funeral in Nantucket, Allegra wept. Not for the old man, for he had made his mark , but for herself and the years he stole from her with his selfishness. A thief of the soul, he was, for all his talk of filial duty.

Hmmm

2006-07-08T17:57:00.000-05:00

if my kiss is sweeter than wine, then your kiss is vanilla
warm
or is it like cinnamon?
slightly spicy
my exotic man from down the highway

I love windy days

2006-07-08T16:04:00.000-05:00

I should say breezy. Not all that much into tornados or hurricanes. Anyway, it is abolutely gorgeous out and my brain is broken, as usual. Maybe I have ADD or whatever all the cool kids have but I can't seem to concentrate. Argh.

Life still good but a little messier than yesterday

2006-06-29T19:46:00.000-05:00

Gah, I'm being forced by the company I work for to go on short-term disability because they have no accomdations for people with lifting restrictions. My doctor is out of town and it's all just a big mess. Hopefully, I'll get this straightened out before my vacation and sick time runs out. On the upside, I'll be able to concentrate more on my game writing and finally finish my mod.

Thank you, my Alex, for making this life of mine so much better. At one time, this would have been a nerve-wracking mountain but now it's just a pothole in the road of our life together.

Life is good

2006-06-28T11:12:00.000-05:00

I've always been a glass-is-not-only-half-empty-but-full-of-radioactive-waste sort of gal but I've got to admit, life is pretty good right now. Alex and I went to Aztalan and Madison on Friday and it was a wonderful day from beginning to end, with some tasty sangria in the middle.

A new word

2006-06-24T20:39:00.000-05:00

Agrred: to be in agreement over something that angers both parties.

Question

2006-06-24T20:08:00.000-05:00

So what would happen if I just wrote & it wasn't any good & would the world end & would the sun explode or would I explode in a hailstorm of shattered ice, my heart as cold as, my soul as bleak as, my past as fragile as?

What would happen if I asked for an opinion & they said stop using ampersands, it's pretentious, you can't pull it off and it's fine for a start and why don't you keep getting on that bicycle and peddling down that road right down the middle?

What would happen if I'm just nobody but me and that me isn't good enough for who I've wanted to be but yet you still love me still why can't I rise to the call, rise to the top, rise and shine?

Paralyzed by self-doubt and low self esteem!

2006-06-24T20:04:00.000-05:00

So much promise come to naught.

Or so I've been told.

Happy Birthday Sir Paul and Roger Ebert!

2006-06-18T19:39:00.000-05:00

Did y'know that both Paul McCartney and Roger Ebert were born on exactly the same day 64 years ago? Cosmic! Two thumbs up!*

*I have to admit I've despised post-Siskel Ebert who has become free and easy with his thumbs, raising them for every movie that remotely catches his fancy. For shame, Roger, for shame!

Been a long time

2006-06-18T16:21:00.000-05:00

I suppose it has since I posted last but my archive is full of unfinished and aborted posts (would I lie to you?) It may not seem that way but I have always been a hair-pulling, lip-biting paralyzed perfectionist when it comes to writing. When I was in school, the only way I could force myself to finish papers was to wait until the last minute when editing was virtually impossible... ah those heady days of feverishly plock-plock-plocking (typing has never been my strong suite, stymied by qwerty and lack of coordination and motivation) until 10:45 for a 11:00 o'clock class, then parking illegally in order to squeak in under the wire, tossing my elegantly stapled masterpiece onto the Pile of Judgement. I was a nervous wreck but there was something almost orgasmic about cutting it so close. And always getting As. I mean, what was the point of starting earlier if I was going to get an A anyway? Maybe I was missing out on some incredible foreplay for years: I could have indulged in some languid typewriter strokes instead of the feverish pounding... Huh.

Damn, it's hot outside

2006-05-28T19:27:00.000-05:00

Another day of accomplishing nothing beyond ripping a hole in my shorts when I went to get some stuff out of my mother's garage. Oh, and getting the stuff ( a couple of books, some clothes, my astrological chart!) I don't count fetching the detritus of my life as a great accomplishment, even though it was in the 90s and I am not at my best in the heat. I wilt like a delicate flower, except that I am precisely the opposite of a delicate flower, whatever that would be. A potato, perhaps? Or maybe an indelicate flower, one that snorts when she laughs and wears sensible shoes instead of heels.

Time out for gossip

2006-05-23T14:31:00.003-05:00

Ok, I'm no psychic but I knew the marriage between old One-Leg and McCartney just was not going to last. Why, you ask? Because I read in an interview that she claimed that she had never heard a Beatles song before Old Paul sat down at the piano, aching with raw emotion, during their courtship and sang "Hey Heather"( "Hey Heather, it doesn't seem so sad, you've lost your leg but caught a billionaire...".)

COME ON.

She grew up in the 70s in England and had NEVER once heard a Beatles song? I really have a hard time believing that. When I met Alex Carlson, I didn't tell him with the wink and bared midriff of a long-in-the-tooth ingenue that I had never read the interview with him on the locker at work in order for him to believe that I wasn't going after him just for his poetry.

There's more I want to blather on about but all I'm doing is distracting myself from writing for profit. Catch y'all on the flipside, hightide.

Where art thou, Jill?

2006-05-17T20:04:00.000-05:00

Thanks for asking! I've been visiting Lazyland, waging a guerilla war with the LazyCong. I've got a bad case of foot rot that prevents me from telling you all the details RIGHT NOW (wink wink, nudge nudge) but keep your bookmarks set to right here right now for more scintillating blogging action!

In the meantime, why don't you occupy your sweet selves by making a few phones calls? I've heard the government wants to establish the world's largest database of phone records. Maybe we can make it into the Guiness Book of World Records! Wouldn't that be so like George Bush and Co. to make the pie higher?!?

Stay tuned! Good news after the sports and weekend weather!

2006-05-06T10:01:00.000-05:00

I was talking to a woman yesterday who said that, although she realizes that she has to know what's going on in the world, she's stopped watching the news because it overwhelms her. "Where's the good in the world? And why isn't it on the news?"

I said that good is all around us, it just doesn't make headlines.

And it doesn't sell advertising. And it doesn't burn down houses or shoot down helicopters. If there was no good in the world, we'd never kiss anyone goodnight.

I still have a hard time understanding people that think that they need to make up angels and devils to be able to comprehend that people are both capable of great good and great evil. That ALL people are capable of it.

End of philosophical musing. Stay tuned for an existential rant on why I can never find jeans that fit and, to my chagrin, spent 15 minutes complaining about it to some size 6 teenager who works at Old Navy. Yeah, baby!

Nothing to see here, just move along

2006-05-05T19:43:00.000-05:00

Really. I'm on the phone with my niece Baylie who just won a science fair project entitled "Is Blue Really Blue?"

NEWS FLASH: It is not. Blue is really green and yellow. O! M! G!

HA! Try and spin that to justify invading Iraq, Mr. Rumsfeld!