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September 21, 2010

someone just found my blog by googling ‘fingernails.’ Did you do that on purpose to creep me out? Should I just stop checking my mailbox now, forever?

One thing about writing in my blog again is checking to see if anyone cares like they say they do again. What comes of this, of course, is all sorts of strangeness from the google searches that lead people to my blog. And I have to say, ‘people with fireflies in their mouth’ is not only grammatically incorrect but absolutely floors me as a concept. Also I have never written anything having remotely to do with people and their firefly mouthfuls, and it strikes me that google sometimes has its little fun with people. Here, strange person who wants people with fireflies in their mouth(s), you may instead have this blog that says nothing whatsoever about people with fireflies in their mouths at any time and will criticize your google search to boot.

The other really great thing about this is that now there really is a reason for the orally fixated firefly lover’s contingency to wend their ways to my blog. Now I have written two paragraphs on the subject, and the world will never be the same. It’s kind of like reverse google search history altering time travel. Muwahahaha.

the year of the unicorn

September 18, 2010

I suck at taking pictures during any activity where I am too busy having fun with what’s around me to stop having fun long enough to dig around in my dinosaur backpack for the camera bag, unzip the camera bag, get out and turn on the camera, point, focus…and by then whatever was awesome and happening all those damn seconds ago is no longer awesome anyway and probably not even happening anymore. That is to say, I am good at taking pictures of things that stand still while I am alone and undistracted. Burning man did not get the alone and undistracted memo.

In other words, I dug my camera out of the tent where it had languished unused all week for the first time on Sunday night to catch the temple burn, which is exactly what happened last year. I guess the temple burn is the only time I feel alone and undistracted pretty much all of burning man. The sudden vast silence around the roar of a massive flame is kind of not one of those things I am easily distracted from.

Thusly, Pictures


Also squiggly lights. Evybody like squiggly lights.

(WARNING: title spoiler alert).

So yeah, I have a job again. Also I am writing in my blog again, which I hope will cease the sporadic and always unexpected complaints from random and mostly unexpected persons that I never write in my blog anymore and what is wrong with me. Oh, the optimism of me. One paragraph into the first blog post of months, and I am already envisioning an end to all nagging. It’s good to be king. King of short sighted, joyous faith in the universe at large to give me everything I want except to live in Portland. Which, if that sounds like whining, kind of is. What do you want from me, though? Other than to write in my blog. I have a fabulous life right now, and I am about to spend the next however long writing glorious self and universe congratulatory sentences dripping with smugness and an overall sense of one’s own impeccable silver plated luck, so in the interest of balance, etc, I have to whine a little. Therefore, and without further adjective laden ado, I present to you:

List of Greivances

Cats (pick on sweet boyfriend, scratch doors, sit on person’s faces in the morning, refuse to eat perfectly good healthy cat food because it doesn’t taste like nasty corn and msg food, make hairballs that linger in every corner no matter what I fill said corners with to make them less like a dust bunny trap and more like a fortress of good taste and eccentric style)

Place of Residence (is not Portland) (also has lots of gratuitous poop)

Laundry (we feel that this should be self explanatory – mgmt.)

Slowness of the Arrival of First Paycheck (I has gin to buy, my hamsters. I has chapstick to buy, too, because I have been out of it since burning man and let me tell you, trying to rehab your lips after a week in the harsh without chapstick is a very slow nearly losing battle)

Lack of Can Opener (ostensibly left at burning man, to fill my life with tragedy and hungry angry kittehz until I develop the willpower to hie myself hither to some nonTrader Joe’s place and buy a new one)

Lack of Scissors (also left at burning man, so as to prohibit the trimming of my bangs, the snipping of random strings, and any other fool thing one can do with scissors in two seconds but spends ten minutes fucking up with a box knife. No, I did not take a box knife to my bangs)

Woe. Selah.

List of Happy Awesome Things

The Elevator (it is in the building that houses the gyrotonic studio whose office I now manage, and it is old and made of wood and glass and some sort of nice, soft looking yellow metal with gray tarnishes. It holds a boombox that is always playing, and an elevator man who says things like ‘oh, it has its ups and downs’ in response to things like ‘how’s life?’

The People (they think I am so great at office stuff, and they are all healthy and happy and do not care about the little knee hole in my little green stockings; also they’re really, really into my white boots)

Coffee (we feel that this is self explanatory – mgmt.)

Expectation of Money (wheeeeeeeee! Who did in fact let the dogs out?)

Marshmallows (recently rediscovered as the best treat ever. Soft, light, chewy, delicious. Like eating little babies made of sugar and…aw. Aw. Never look at the ingredients on a marshmallow package. I have spoke)

Lemon Balm (smells delicious and grows like California wildfire)

My Brain (it goes so fast! it goes so well! it turns big piles of crap into little piles of order! I love it and I plan to feed it salmon every day as soon as the paychecks come rolling in)

My Commute (ha. ha. ha. Ask me about my commute. No really, go ahead)

WEEKEND! (and the fact that it means something more to me now than ‘oh, everybody else will be in a better mood for a few days’)

Graham (after I think almost two years, although I am bad at exact times and dates if they are in the past and cannot get me drunk or presents, it has finally dawned on me in the most delightful way who Graham reminds me of: the haphazard and adventurous main character of a book I loved more than life as a child, whose title began Never Go Anywhere With)

Mail (I sure do send a lot of it out now. But I also get a lot of it in. The sad thing is, I think I send most of it to my siblings and I get most of it from Holly, which means that Holly is not being appreciated at her deserved letter count. Dear Holly: Maholla! Yeah, I had to, but Miss J did it first)

Alain (as yet undefeated by the twin terrors of cats with bad attitudes and girlfriend with bad sanity. Go Alain!)

The Invention of the Can Opener (hell yeah you’re irreplaceable; I can’t live without you, baby) [may also be applied to previous category]

Jubilee. Selah.

Also:

World’s Best Picture, part 4