Humans are messy, dirty creatures who spend a vast amount of time trying to hide that fact. Covering our smells is a billion dollar industry of soaps, perfumes, colognes, lotions and sprays; we've created a complex system that lets us believe our bodily waste can disappear. We scrub ourselves with stones and seacreatures, we remove hair, grow hair, color hair, cut hair, add hair.
I wonder if we ever consciously realize how frustrating it is to be under the impression that we are the be-all, end-all of creation, the pinnacle of all that is detailed perfection when we are just as gross as every other mammal. I think it'd be rather freeing to understand that almost all of what decorum tells us to hide is the very stuff that we simply are.
Tuesday, December 12, 2006
Shameless Plug
This is a plug for an old old friend:
Please go here to listen and vote for my friend Stephanie (Schlosser) Chapman in the BMI podcast! Steph is my high school friend who's making a name for herself out there in Nashville!
Please go here to listen and vote for my friend Stephanie (Schlosser) Chapman in the BMI podcast! Steph is my high school friend who's making a name for herself out there in Nashville!
Friday, December 8, 2006
Some Days
All the thoughts of the week have been flashes of lightening, an effort like discerning songs and discussions while the radio is still scanning. As soon as it is identified it is gone.
I blame the new black myan onyx organic coffee beans, which are akin to shooting up disesl fuel. Thoughts on peak oil, gender roles, paint, etc. And then...static.
Instead of thoughts, I'll post some happenings. Monday was la dia de flu. I was up all Sunday night getting sick, so I slept most of Monday, before going to the camp Christmas party and ordering prime rib. I took most of it home with me to eat later. Tuesday I had my stint as the weekly town runner, in which I am sent to 8-10 places to pick up anything from toilets and hoses to enough candy to cause a dentist seizures (of delight or mortification depends on the dentist). Did you know there is a store that just sells hoses? I didn't know there was enough of a business to afford a whole store dedicated to just hoses, but apparently, I was mistaken. As I wrote about a while ago, we have massive construction happening here at the 'Gap and with OSHA regs, hard hats are required in and around the dirt moving. Well we have the pretty pink ones in the office that were ordered a while ago, and which the maintenance men still refuse to wear. No regard to safety I say. So Tuesday I was sent to pick up some very manly (and boring) white ones. I tried to trade them in for purple ones, or even neutral green or yellow, but the hard hat guy was pretty firm that I stick with the white. No creativity.
Wednesday morning it was discovered that one of the horses was dead out in the field. When I was driving in on Tuesday night I saw him standing over by himself and I said hello to him. But in the morning Hank was just lying on his side, eyes open and very dead. I guess the normal protocol is to dig a big hole right by him and roll him in, but an autopsy was ordered so Hank was loaded onto a big flatbed truck, covered with a tarp, and taken to the equine CSI.
Last night we had our first serious dusting of snow. About damn time.
Too late in the night I pulled out my backpacker guitar and strummed things quiet and loving. Current song I'm playing: "Book of Love" by Magnetic Fields. But more like this version.
I head to work at 1 this afternoon, for another busy stint in the bakery for the weekend, looking like I know what I'm doing and trying to not add salt instead of sugar or burn the shit out of my forearms. I don't like the pressure of the kitchen.
My bosses' yellow lab/golden mix, Flossy, is staying with us this weekend and she's snuggled happily against my leg. Although it was discovered that she is terrified of Kyle, our foot tall great horned owl piggy bank that we found in a closet. I guess I could see how Kyle could be scary...if you were a mouse.
Time to take a shower, pound the last of the coffee and face a weekend.
VA peoples: I'll be back in LoCo on the 21st, but that night is reserved for Hatch. I'll be around til the morning of the 26th, so call me if you wanna hang out. I know the night of the 25th is the annual trek to either Balls Bluff Tavern or to Champions for the crazy reunions. I think last year I gave Marissa a hug in the parking lot after last call. Whoops.
I blame the new black myan onyx organic coffee beans, which are akin to shooting up disesl fuel. Thoughts on peak oil, gender roles, paint, etc. And then...static.
Instead of thoughts, I'll post some happenings. Monday was la dia de flu. I was up all Sunday night getting sick, so I slept most of Monday, before going to the camp Christmas party and ordering prime rib. I took most of it home with me to eat later. Tuesday I had my stint as the weekly town runner, in which I am sent to 8-10 places to pick up anything from toilets and hoses to enough candy to cause a dentist seizures (of delight or mortification depends on the dentist). Did you know there is a store that just sells hoses? I didn't know there was enough of a business to afford a whole store dedicated to just hoses, but apparently, I was mistaken. As I wrote about a while ago, we have massive construction happening here at the 'Gap and with OSHA regs, hard hats are required in and around the dirt moving. Well we have the pretty pink ones in the office that were ordered a while ago, and which the maintenance men still refuse to wear. No regard to safety I say. So Tuesday I was sent to pick up some very manly (and boring) white ones. I tried to trade them in for purple ones, or even neutral green or yellow, but the hard hat guy was pretty firm that I stick with the white. No creativity.
Wednesday morning it was discovered that one of the horses was dead out in the field. When I was driving in on Tuesday night I saw him standing over by himself and I said hello to him. But in the morning Hank was just lying on his side, eyes open and very dead. I guess the normal protocol is to dig a big hole right by him and roll him in, but an autopsy was ordered so Hank was loaded onto a big flatbed truck, covered with a tarp, and taken to the equine CSI.
Last night we had our first serious dusting of snow. About damn time.
Too late in the night I pulled out my backpacker guitar and strummed things quiet and loving. Current song I'm playing: "Book of Love" by Magnetic Fields. But more like this version.
I head to work at 1 this afternoon, for another busy stint in the bakery for the weekend, looking like I know what I'm doing and trying to not add salt instead of sugar or burn the shit out of my forearms. I don't like the pressure of the kitchen.
My bosses' yellow lab/golden mix, Flossy, is staying with us this weekend and she's snuggled happily against my leg. Although it was discovered that she is terrified of Kyle, our foot tall great horned owl piggy bank that we found in a closet. I guess I could see how Kyle could be scary...if you were a mouse.
Time to take a shower, pound the last of the coffee and face a weekend.
VA peoples: I'll be back in LoCo on the 21st, but that night is reserved for Hatch. I'll be around til the morning of the 26th, so call me if you wanna hang out. I know the night of the 25th is the annual trek to either Balls Bluff Tavern or to Champions for the crazy reunions. I think last year I gave Marissa a hug in the parking lot after last call. Whoops.
Wednesday, December 6, 2006
It's a Sabotage
So, I have a weakness.
(One and only one)
It happens to be...ready?...driving after watching action movies.
(I mentioned this back in November, but haven't yet had an intervention)
It's a serious problem of mine, and my poor little subaru (that's "u r a bus" backward) feels the brunt of my speed deamonish tendencies post watching stuff blow up. Doesn't matter if the movie was good or not, just if there were car chases and loud noises and literally shit blowing up. Then I get behind the wheel, put on the "Drive Fast, Yell Stuff" mix and suddenly I'm going 85. Or faster.
The mix is a lot of Rage, Beastie Boys, Zeppelin, Violent Femmes, DMX, et al and then I get home and can't simmer down. I need some sort of decompression chamber to go from adrenaline shot to le heart down to, say, herbal tea level. Like the stepdown from "Bulls on Parade" by Rage down to, oh I don't know, let's say Patty Griffin.
Tonight I watched MI:III which was a typical action movie, very by the book, etc (and I don't really care for Tom Cruise; he's got that creepy smile that looks like it could eat puppies. I prefer Matt Damon as Jason Borne. Oh do I prefer Matt...) but I watched it in HD and surround sound and, well, I got invested.
I told you it was a weakness. Don't judge me, I was being vunerable.
But now you see why Seth never lets me drive after watching movies like that. He knows better.
(One and only one)
It happens to be...ready?...driving after watching action movies.
(I mentioned this back in November, but haven't yet had an intervention)
It's a serious problem of mine, and my poor little subaru (that's "u r a bus" backward) feels the brunt of my speed deamonish tendencies post watching stuff blow up. Doesn't matter if the movie was good or not, just if there were car chases and loud noises and literally shit blowing up. Then I get behind the wheel, put on the "Drive Fast, Yell Stuff" mix and suddenly I'm going 85. Or faster.
The mix is a lot of Rage, Beastie Boys, Zeppelin, Violent Femmes, DMX, et al and then I get home and can't simmer down. I need some sort of decompression chamber to go from adrenaline shot to le heart down to, say, herbal tea level. Like the stepdown from "Bulls on Parade" by Rage down to, oh I don't know, let's say Patty Griffin.
Tonight I watched MI:III which was a typical action movie, very by the book, etc (and I don't really care for Tom Cruise; he's got that creepy smile that looks like it could eat puppies. I prefer Matt Damon as Jason Borne. Oh do I prefer Matt...) but I watched it in HD and surround sound and, well, I got invested.
I told you it was a weakness. Don't judge me, I was being vunerable.
But now you see why Seth never lets me drive after watching movies like that. He knows better.
Sunday, December 3, 2006
Hyper-Hypochondria
It's that time of year when I get consistently ill and want to die.
Not because I'm overly dramatic or anything, I just want to petition God for a new body.
Maybe even just a new nasal passage/sinus cavity.
I don't ask for much really.
Just death or a new head.
Also: strange, violent stomach pains. Not cramps per se, just a general malaise. Hate all food at the moment. Am currently working as a baker. Not a good combo.
I will get back to my feverish blogging sprint when I finally kick all this.
(sidebar: I find it very funny that blogger's spell check does not recognize the word "blogging")
Not because I'm overly dramatic or anything, I just want to petition God for a new body.
Maybe even just a new nasal passage/sinus cavity.
I don't ask for much really.
Just death or a new head.
Also: strange, violent stomach pains. Not cramps per se, just a general malaise. Hate all food at the moment. Am currently working as a baker. Not a good combo.
I will get back to my feverish blogging sprint when I finally kick all this.
(sidebar: I find it very funny that blogger's spell check does not recognize the word "blogging")
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