Happy Halloween!

Afrika Bambaataa
Soulsonic Force cape

yes, I dressed up today.  it’s the same costume I wear everyday:
responsible adult.  okay, well not everyday, but lots of days.  I did sneak in my formerprincess superstar necklace, but I’m wearing grownup shoes, and that’s the anchor, you know?

I keep playing the song troposphere (steve burns) over and over and over.  it is the best song in the world.  mmmmm…mighty little man.

I’d tell you a really great halloween story, but well, since halloween and tequila go so damned well together…they’re not very cohesive.  so, if you have any of my halloween stories, could you please return them?

I remember getting the heel of my spiked black pump stuck in a muddy hillside and having to be carried by a sarape’d pre-med clint eastwood.  another flash contains dancing on a table, a lycra micromini… oh, and I spent one halloween in amsterdam, bombed out my mind, making out with the owner of one of the restaurants in that central square…then trying to find a tattoo parlor who would have me.  I couldn’t.

gaaaaaaw, there must be more stories up there somewhere!

oh, and yeah, done with the sorry-ass whinging…my sincere apologies.  thanks for sticking around!

from the vault…and yes, I’m nearly done with my wallowing.

the piece of shit the earth revolves around

a nugget of gold getting kicked through the dirt

melancholy grips me like a gun

my bullets, words

my snobbery

my vanity

shake it, shake it, shake it

shake it like you mean it

belt out that bridge

and make it all that’s real

we’ve got a buttload of history

will you give me a shiny present?

I’ll never ask for more

than everything

did passion go out of fashion?

can you make love out of the rain?

I walk all the night in my own dusky head

and dance through the day just the same

sometimes this is what marriage feels like:

it just keeps going, even after it’s dead
and if you don’t keep moving, it will eat your brain

be afraid Sealkitty,
be very afraid…

of course I laughed like a loon
till I snorked water up my nose
and got a spasm in my lower back,
but that’s just the kind of freak that I am.

currently playing:  ben harper mix by hdl

in my opinion, the fonts with exotic names ought to look more, well, exotic.

when I was 21, I dated my first hipster… bonafide.  he rode a vespa, shot iv drugs (he was diabetic, so the needle thing was fairly moot).  he had that flop over the eyes haircut, short in the back, round glasses.  he and his housemate (who I dated later) had the social scene in a stranglehold…it wasn’t a scene till they arrived.  I didn’t know this when I started seeing him.

I thought it was fun.  I’ve always just “been myself” and this was no exception.  I was SO surprised when he dumped me after only two weeks of hot sex.  I’ve probably mentioned the conversation…actually I’ve mentioned it a lot, because I think it’s hilarious.  he said, “it’s not that I’m not attracted to you, I just don’t like you as a person.”

what?

then he CONTINUED, “well you know, it’s just that when I met you, you seemed so mysterious, then I got to know you and it turns out that you’re not.”

WHAT??

a few weeks later, I hung out with him for a while, nursing him through the aftermath of a diabetic coma that came of too much meth and not enough food.  a few months later, I ended up with his roommate who was better looking and better sex.  yeah.  that one didn’t end well either.

we were out dancing.  I’d met him at the club, drove my truck.  girl clothes don’t have good pockets so I put my keys in the pocket of his motorcycle jacket.  later, I found he’d ditched me, taking my keys with him.  I walked the five miles to his house, knocked on the backdoor, got no response, walked in.  he was rolling around on the floor having sex with some girl…and I must point out that this was a guy whose black jeans were so pegged that he couldn’t actually get them OFF during sex…

I said, “where are my fucking keys?”  looked around, and murmered “yeah, whatever…” and left.  I ended up walking ANOTHER five miles to my house and crawling in the bathroom window.

I remember one night sitting in his lap in a big stuffed chair… he said, “you love me, don’t you?”  I kind of shrugged the affirmative, and he said, “why?”

good question that.

and that is the ballad of scott and barry.  they are now licensed psychologists.  watch out.

Northern Flicker

we have the most beautiful woodpeckers around our house right now.  apparently they’re called flickers.  they’ve been rooting around in the hillside out my kitchen window.  they’re absolutely gorgeous, and I’m fascinated with them.  pictured above is the male who’s flashier (flickerier?).  both sexes have these magnificent scarlet wings, the underside, that is.

driving back from my first morning foray (I have two), I noticed one standing near the top of our road.  as I got nearer, I marvelled at its fearlessness; it didn’t fly away as I approached.  when I drove within a foot of it, a realization clicked, oh shit, it’s probably in shock, injured.  I stopped and looked back.

not long ago, and for most of my life, I would have run home and gotten a box, lined it with warm fabric, and put the bird in it.  I would have tried to help it…and the bird would have died anyway.  my thought was always: but it might not.

this time, I slowly stepped on the gas, and went home.  the bird was either going to make it, or it wasn’t.  my helping it would just stress it out in another way.  if it was going to make it, it was going to need to do it on its own.  that’s nature.  that’s life.  and that’s the way it’s supposed to work.  it is the kinder way. 

sometimes compassion is stepping back and realizing it’s not your work to do. sometimes love is all you have to offer, and sometimes love is hands off.

sometimes that’s what you have to do for the people in your life.

sadder but wiser.

Last night we played chess.  It’s been years, and while I used that as an excuse for four consecutive losses, it appears I’ve actually improved.  Yes, I still lost, but I knew several moves ahead WHY I was going to lose, possibly even before my oponent did.  With such forsight, you’d think I’d win eventually, right?  Well, no, and I’ll tell you why:  I don’t know how to win.  I only know how to lose.

I’m a good defensive player.  I lose every single time, but it is HELLA hard to beat me, because I run away SO DAMNED WELL.  …but that’s all I know how to do.  That’s a fantastic skill when you’re losing.  It might give you the time to break away and reform a winning strategy, only I don’t have any winning strategies.  I’m not saying I employ some moves and they just don’t work for me.  I’m saying I’ve got no plan, nada.

In the middle of one particularly painful game, I was thinking man, I have got to get me to the internet tomorrow and learn some of those plans I’ve always scoffed at.  I always scoffed because I thought they were no fun.  That’s just the way I’ve always been.  I quit basketball in high school when they started making us run “plays”.  I only liked playing when anything could happen.  It was only fun unscripted.  Oh sure,  I went on to play in non-competative leagues in college, and it was fun, but I never got any better.

I didn’t realize that to get better, I had to learn the plays, internalize them.   I had to take it to another level, where it could be fun again.  But I didn’t.  I never did learn.  I was lazy and immature. 

Now, I am reaping what I have sown.  I don’t know how to win at anything.  Sure, some people just learn through example, and I didn’t have many examples.  Is that a valid excuse?  maybe.  Does an excuse do me any good?  not at all.

Chess is such an obvious metaphor for life.  I used to think that because I was bright I could make decent decisions, leading to a somewhat successful life…and that’s what I’ve gotten:  SOMEWHAT successful.  If you’re not growing, you’re dying.  If you’re not playing to win, you’re probably going to lose.

I think I had better fucking get out there and get a game plan, as I am probably making some seriously crappy moves, painting myself into a corner.

and as an aside… apparently I make some heinously scary faces when I’m losing.  unfortunately, I wasn’t scaring anyone, though it did make them laugh.  I suspect there’s another painfull lesson in that one too.

westerberg

I’m trying to take small pleasures today
It may be that they are the ones to be had
The roads, with the wind and the rain, are like surfing
I can’t help but feel they’re reflecting my mood

It seems the kind of day when one should wisely take to port
or barring that, would hunker down and motor
Though it’s completely out of line with all I stand to lose
I could just throw up the sail and see what she can take
                                                             ‘fore she goes under