yes I'm neurotic

Aren't we all?

I know I just posted that very negative post. I wrote it earlier. I don't feel that bad anymore, but it did feel cathartic to expunge it from my body. To get those words out of my head... So please, don't feel you need to comment with words of support. I DO know I have friends out there in the universe, in the blogosphere, and even here in my home, in my neighborhood and in my cobbled together family.

and if you are feeling bad, check out Jen Lemen's blog. I met her at Blogher in New York.

No, Non, Niet, Nein, Nao, No y No

... and yet another "rejection" for my pile...

no scholarship for the Taos Summer Writers Conference from the A Room of Her Own foundation. And even though on my last post I said I wasn't hopeful, I lied. I was still hopeful.

And no letter even.
Not even a thank-you-for-your-application- but-you-suck form letter.
Nope. I actually had to ask them, thus making me feel even more pathetic.

I busted my ass to put together the application, with the vague requirements of "10 pages of prose" and a short description of your work... or a cover letter, or whatever. I stressed about what to include, should I just submit what I would be working on in Taos? Should I show the broader scope of my writing abilities? No one seemed to know, everyone had a different opinion, so I was flying blind. There was no information about what kind of recipients have been awarded scholarships in the past. No way to gauge the bar. I mean what if all the recipients in the past already had MFAs and were English professors or published authors? I still would have submitted, but at least I would know the odds were not in my favor. Maybe I wouldn't have gotten my hopes up.

So now, I'm sitting here thinking I totally suck. Yesterday I was thinking maybe just maybe it could be me. Why not me? well apparently I'm not good enough.

Not sure I'm cut out for this putting myself out there shit. How do you keep doing it, and getting rejection after rejection?

How do I reprogram the tape player in my head that is saying you suck you suck you suck????

Performing Your Words

Guy Kawasaki has some great tips on his blog on public speaking, gleaned from a buddy, Doug Lawrence, professional singer, music director, and speech coach. Anyone reading at the LA Bloggers Live event may want to take a gander.

Singing and speaking have everything in common—except for maybe really good tunes. The main goal is to engage your audience and make them listen to you, so everything a singer does, a speaker ought to do too. Here are the absolute necessities of an engaging performance or presentation that Doug compiled.....

And you may want to peruse the tips from Toastmasters on public speaking.

I would add:

1. Make sure to BREATHE.

2. S L O W D O W N

3. Don't be afraid of silence.... it is a useful tool that lets the audience absorb what you just said, and pay attention to what you're going to say next.

4. Vary the rhythm and pitch of your voice.

...and finally....

5. Practice. Even if it is just running through the words a couple of times.

Interested in spoken word as art? Well so Theresa Cowan....

While spoken word performers have been around for over two decades in North America, their work has not been studied seriously by academics as an art form worthy of their consideration. Theresa Cowan is working to change this neglect through her research for her PhD in English (under the supervision of Dr. Michael O’Driscoll) that examines spoken word performance in Canada. “I initially became interested in this work because I am a spoken word artist and I found that many ‘academic poets’ made fun of spoken word as ‘bad poetry,’ rather than engage with it on its own terms.”

Do you think PhD candidates in English will soon be studying blogging as an art form? Do YOU think bloggers are writers?

Many of the bloggers I enjoy reading are good writers... personally I wouldn't call all bloggers writers, however. Some create lists of links, for example.

Curious what you think....

See Me Live

Thursday, June 28.

Yes, I know I am not based in L.A.

HOWEVER, I do read some L.A. Bloggers like LeahPeah, and CitizenoftheMonth (although I may have to stop reading that one since Neil called me a narcissistic fool)


BESIDES, there's no cool blogging stuff like this happening in San Diego since Joe and Leah moved "up there," so I'm going.

And if you show up you'll get to hear me live, along with:

Erin from Queen of Spain

Joe from Artlung

Lynda from One Day at a Time

Deezee from Confessional Highway

Neil from Citizen of the Month

Abigail from My Life According to Me

Maybe I'll steal the idea and bring it to San Diego.

Or maybe you'll just have to catch me in LA.

And tell an LA friend. The club, the Tangier Lounge looks cool.

SO. Should I do a reprise of the Me and Billy Crystal audio blog? guaranteed to bring the crowd to tears - OR - something about Barbie and pert boobs?

aka Je Sais... I know.

Just so you know I don't really know.

and the hits, they keep a comin'

So now I find out I didn't get a Leo Love Merit scholarship to the Taos Writers Conference.

No word about the Room of Her Own Foundation scholarship yet, but so far what I have is:

1. Public Radio Talent Quest. Rejected. but seriously, congrats to the round 1 winners
2. Leo Love Merit Scholarship. Rejected.
3. Room of Her Own scholarship... pending... but not hopeful at this point
4. Story submitted to CommonTies.com ... pending... won't know until the 22nd

So think happy thoughts. Not sure if I can take 4 rejections in a row. Or at least this close together.

Anyone have any tips on how to toughen up? to not let this stuff get to you? to keep plugging away regardless? to get up and do it again tomorrow and the next day? or how do you know when you're just kidding yourself?

I'm not the next NPR star

yet.

Well, thanks everyone for your votes. The voting has closed. The judging is over. And I did not make the list of top 100 vote getters at the public radio talent quest... nor did I make the list of entries nominated by more than one judge.

I only listened to 200 entries. A few stinkers, a lot of really good entries and a couple of Wows. There is an amazing group of talented people over there at the public radio talent quest. I'd like to think that I made it to the list of 200 entries that were passed on the judges. I don't know if that is true or not, but I learned a lot in pursuing this.

First and foremost, why not me? In this case I don't know. Many of the entries were prepared by real live radio professionals. I'm not saying that in a sour grapes kind of way, it's an honest appraisal. I think I held my own. I learned a lot about putting together a small piece. I got a little more practice using my recording equipment, and using a sound editing program. Although my idea about Creativity Is has been percolating for a while... this project forced me to distill it, formulate the words, and articulate what I was trying to say. What I can still say.

And I know for sure that I would not have won if I had not entered. Ya gotta play to win, right? This is big for me... to actually put stuff out there. To give it a shot. I have to say I am really proud of myself for trying, giving it my best shot.

And you know the adage, "Be careful what you wish for you just might get it...." In this case, it probably is a good thing I did not win. How demanding will Round 2 of the contest be? Round 3? I have a job. A good paying job that I enjoy very much. And I am writing a book. And there are still only 24 hours in a day last time I checked. 6-8 hours for sleeping. 8 hours for work, and 8 hours for friends, family, eating, hanging out, writing, recording, movies, reading, etc.

So, I'll continue noodling around with audio, working with my friend Rich to produce his short story, work on something audio of my own, or with other fellow writers... maybe I'll make more sound sculptures, layers of words and music, pieces that wouldn't really fit into a public radio show format, like this piece called "F_ck, Pause."
it may be offensive (I warned you) I was in a weird mood.
OR

Maybe I'll go ahead and produce a show, Creativity Is, and podcast it, or submit it to public radio via the Public Radio Exchange. Or not.
Oh the ideas they are a flowing....

What exactly IS post punk anyway?

I admit it. I was prepared to not like the evening lineup. I mean Eileen Myles reported attitude had left a bad taste in my mouth. And frankly, for some strange reason it is easier to be against something.

I got the flyer for the “art happening” at The Whistle Stop via email and I diligently posted the event – yes, with a sarcastic headline—at SanDiegoBlog.com. And then I even made plans to go. To go see what “art” in Eileen Myles’ mind really is.

Wednesday started with my weekly Read and Critique Group. We meet every Wednesday. The group is facilitated by Judy Reeves, Writer. We’re making art in our own right. Quietly. Diligently. We write. We work on our craft. It just isn’t public, but it is indicative of art happening in San Diego. It’s subtle. Like winter in San Diego. Or spring. You have to slow down and look. It IS there.

Only this time I had coffee. So I could stay up past 9 pm... After my Read and Critique Group, Judy, Rich and I headed up to South Park to the Whistle Stop, to get a little more art.

I was the first to arrive, which was amazing considering I drive like my grandma, but that’s another story. In the 20 minutes it took my to get a beer (ever feel like you’re invisible as taller people reach over you to shove money in the bartender’s face?) the place got pretty full. And finally I saw Judy and Rich come in through the front door. It was 9:20 or so. The show was scheduled to start at 9 pm. Strike one. (military brat here. Bad to be late)

The show was billed as “old fashioned kite flying puppetry collective featuring eileen myles. ryan griffith. esteban ortega.

Ryan Griffith was the first on board, closer to 10 pm than 9pm. He introduced himself, and said something along the lines of “I know there’s a lot of people here from UCSD, and San Diego State. And City College. And we’re all writers. And there’s just no place for us here in San Diego….”

And under my breath I said “bullshit.” Because I know there are tons of writerly events going on all the time in San Diego. Many of which are hosted by San Diego Writers Ink. And take place RIGHT ACROSS THE STREET AT THE GROVE every First Friday of the month… and the booze is free….
But I didn’t say that. This was his gig after all.

As Ryan continued, “We just really wanted to create something here in San Diego.” I was feeling like he was being so patronizing, like he was so proud of himself, creating a little art for the poor art-deprived folks of San Diego….

And I kept my mouth shut. And I was prepared to dislike whatever his “art” was.

But I didn’t. He performed a poem, set to music (a melodic electric guitar in a sort of ambient minor key sounding riff that was very mood setting). In the background Ryan had a digital art presentation to follow along. It was cool. It was exactly the kind of art I would do, layers of visual expression, words, and music. I was intrigued. I wanted more.

Next up, Eileen Myles. I was truly prepared to dislike her. Which I hate to admit because I like to think of myself as open minded. I don’t care if she’s a post punk lesbian… my best friend is a lesbian (Hi Julie !) But considering the fact that she dissed my town, well, I had high expectations. She's from New York. She must know art....

I noticed her when I first came into the bar. She was the only one that looked like a more masculine version of Andy Warhol (but with a better hairdo). Her look is a little harsh, but I fits her post modern/punk/feminist/lesbian/poet persona…

So when she came up on stage, I was ready. I was sure I would get some good solid angst-ridden post punk feminist poetry. And I was disappointed.

Instead, what I saw was a woman who came alive on stage. And as I watched her read her harsh look softened. I thought to myself, she’s actually pretty. I could tell this was her bliss. She was doing what she loved to do. Words.

Now I wouldn’t call what she read poetry. And I realize there is a pretty broad definition of what constitutes poetry, and I embrace that definition, but she read a piece that she had contributed to an anthology. It was about flossing. And so much more. And I would call it prose… but that’s neither here nor there… Eileen herself was engaging, and animated, and endearing in her reading. So I get why she’s published. I get why she’s “a cult figure to a generation of post-punk females forming their own literary avant guarde.”

But I still don’t get why she doesn’t see that there is art, even poetry events in San Diego.

Now the third “act” of the evening… the puppet portion of the evening… to quote my friend Rich:

The Ship Is The Essex!!! The Whale IS The Essex!!! This Is Not The Real
Essex!!! This Is Nantucket!!! This is a Town Just Like Nantucket!!

It was too loud. It was cacophony at its finest. It hurt my ears and frankly I put on better shows when I was in third grade. Besides I had finished my beer and the line at the bar was too long to get another. Oh, and I had a 20 mile drive home. So I left.

Last chance

Voting ends tomorrow.
Do feel free to just go listen. Lots of good creative audio stuff happening over there.

And if you were to register, and vote (for me), even submit a comment, well I wouldn't mind at all.

I'm a Writer

I know I've mentioned it before. That I'm a writer. But sometimes I don't feel like a writer. Yes, I write at work. I've published artiles. I write. But there is something extra-specially (writers get to make up words) rewarding about getting your first check. Even if it's not for much, and it's not for your great literary work of art, but for a blog post republished, in print and online-- at The San Diego Reader:



So yeah, I'm a writer.

The real Billy Crystal

I could have sworn I checked the spelling.
But somehow my fingers typed the 'h' not once,
not twice
but 87 times.
Okay, perhaps that is an exaggeration...

The editor of CommonTies.com actually joked (via email to me) that perhaps their spam filter screens for misspellings. yikes. my bad. big bad. I spelled Billy Crystal's name wrong.

I even rank third in Google Search for "Billy Crystal" misspelled. yikes. cached in The Google for god knows how long. Hopefully with this post, I will rank just as high for the correct spelling of Billy Crystal.

And perhaps, my dream will come true... that Billy Crystal will find my blog (do celebrities google themselves like we do-- you know you do, admit it-- or do they have "people" to do that for them?).

I did go back and correct the blog post that referenced "Me and Billy Crystal" to the correct spelling, "Billy Crystal," so maybe he'll find me now. And listen. And like it. And call me up, say "Hi. This is Billy Crystal. Let's do coffee."

Why not me?

Need to follow up!

It's so frustrating to think that with everything you do you have to follow up, to double check, to make sure things are happening as they are supposed to.

In the middle of the crazy Writing and Submitting fest that was my life last week, I submitted a story for the Common Ties Story Blog. First off, they actually pay and second, it is the year of Why Not Me, and third, they pay. Did I mention they pay? Not that pay is the only criteria for respect, but money is measurable, and I have a goal to make some money from my writing this year... so the fact that they publish some fine stories, you retain copyright and they pay, makes it a good opportunity in my mind.

Each week they feature a different theme (grief, cancer, missed connections, mothers, etc.) When I first discovered this website back in Janary, I had just missed the deadline to submit for the Cancer theme (isn't that always the way?). And between then and now none of the other "themes" spoke to me, or I didn't have anything near polished enough to submit... until, May 15 "Open Themes" (could there be any more deadlines for me in May??) So I submitted my Me and Billy Crystal essay, via email, at 8:14 am on May 15. Well within the deadline. Not even close to midnight or anything.

And I waited.

And I got to thinking, "When are those essays supposed to publish?" and "Funny I haven't heard anything." Not that I expect my essay to be published, but I did expect SOME response, the email equivalent of a rejection slip, perhaps... but no, nothing. So I looked online and saw that This week is open theme week. So instead of just saying, "hmm. Oh Well," I actually emailed via the Contact Us page, and said shall I assume a rejection if I've not heard from you? The editor replied (pretty quickly I might add) that yes, that would be the case, and she copied and pasted the response letter text below that should answer any other questions....

So, I'm looking at this email thinking, "I didn't get one of these response letter emails with this information. Hmmm."

So I emailed her back and said, thanks for the info, but I didn't get one of these emails. And she emailed back and said she didn't have a record of receiving an email submission from me. Weird. Slurped into the SPAM box? who knows. I had a record of it being sent, so I forwarded the sent copy to her.

So, we'll see. As I said, I'm not expecting publication... but hey, why not me?

I can't believe I ate the whole thing

Yesterday marked a huge milestone for me. I managed to cobble together all my various and asundry essays and stories into a FIRST DRAFT. And, I managed to get it all printed (167 pages) copied-- double sided and three hole punched-- and mailed out to the participants for the master class at the Taos Writers Conference this July.
As I stood there at Kinkos watching the copy machine spit out pages of my manuscript I cried. I don't know why. It's happy tears, sad tears, woulda shoulda coulda tears, if only I had another day tears, am I ready to move into the revision stage tears.... how will my manuscript stack up next to everyone else's tears. And now what am I gonna do tears.

In fact, this last month has been so hectic and insane I feel like I'm coming down from a big high. I managed to get two scholarship applications (May 1st deadline and May 15th deadline) done (for the Taos workshop) and submitted my audio audition for the public radio talent quest (May 14th deadline) and finally the whole draft of my manuscript submitted for workshop, deadline May 18th.

So now what? Well, I still have my local read and critique group. I have two chapters that I sort of just put placeholders in for the "whole draft" so I can write those.... and I'm working on some more audio stuff. And I have 8 books to read between now and July 7.... the manuscripts from my fellow workshop attendees AND the two books Greg Martin has assigned: Pharaoh's Army by Tobias Wolf and Fierce Attachments by Vivian Gornick.

and maybe I'll just go back to sleep....

too much to do. too overwhelmed.

Why does everything happen at once??

I'm so overwhelmed right now, I must take a blog break...

So, I've got the Taos Writers Conference coming up. I'm signed up for a master class with Greg Martin (am I crazy? don't answer that) I SHOULD have a "whole draft" of my memoir, "Reconstructing My Mother." What I have is a messy 170 some pages. If I force a square memoir into a round peg does that make it whole?
Deadline Friday, May 18.

If that weren't enough I've decided this is the year of WHY NOT ME? What that means is that I have to do the things I think about doing... like apply for two merit based scholarships for the Taos Writer Conference... because, why not me? I mean if I don't apply, I certainly will not get a scholarship, right? The first scholarship, sponsored by A Room Of Her Own Foundation, due May 1. Done. The second, the Leo Love Merit Scholarship, due May 15. Sending tomorrow.


And then there's the Public Radio Talent Quest. I had to enter that! And maybe I flubbed it, didn't tell enough about myself... didn't describe the piece well enough on my entry, Creativity is, but I did it. All in the name of Why Not Me? Well I have a 10 in 1300 chance of making to the next round. Maybe a little better because honestly I think my entry was better than some. If you feel compelled, please do go vote for me (note, you'll have to register, but my entry is only 2 minutes long.). One of the 10 spots will be determined by votes.

So now I'm down to the thing that I should have been focusing on all along, putting together my "whole draft." And instead, I blog! Is this some form of self-sabotage? am I afraid to write? to succeed? or am I just crazy? don't answer that.

PS: shit. I inadvertently posted this post onto the Taos Writers Conference blog that I have been invited to participate on. thank god I caught it in time and deleted it. Totally inappropriate to self-promote over there! whew.

PS #2. I also want to submit a story for the Common Ties Story blog. Deadline on open themes May 15.

What about that radio show?

Of course I should be working on my book... but I have 6 more days to generate 60 pages. Cake, right? hah!!

Anyway, Regarding my Audio Audition over at the Public Radio Talent Quest.... Creativity is... you may recall my mini doculogue movie from a while ago of the same title I used some of that audio and re-worked it, laid down a background music track -- me on guitar, Julie on harmonica-- and framed it with some commentary:

When you think of creativity, of people you consider creative, if you're like most people you think of artists: writers, painters, sculptors, poets, dancers,
... musicians

maybe you even think of crafters, you know, those people in your life that can take a piece of string and a paperclip and with McGyver like skill turn it into something useful like a doorstop, or a potholder.

Now I can hear you shaking your head even before I make this next statement, but...
I believe EVERYBODY is creative.

Yeah.
Really.

Everybody.

Even you.


You probably just don’t recognize what you do as creative.

That’s where I come in.



Come along with me as I get to know artists, writers, musicians,

and business owners, scientists, teachers, engineers, carpenters, moms, bankers, pet sitters

Creative people from all walks of life

So it is done. It is what it is. I'm happy with my submission. Maybe it will turn to naught but another clip for my blog... or the start of my new radio show or podcast, or whatever. Just a reminder... you can listen to Creativity Is and vote. You have until June to vote (I'll remind you again, don't worry)

PS: what about that radio show

Logging in and commenting on my entry would make me look really popular.... just a suggestion :-)

and now I'm back to work on MY BOOK. Seriously. I have a good hour until the mariachis begin. (long story)

Shameless Plug: Public Radio Talent Quest

OK, since this IS my blog, I guess I can plug anything I want... myself included.

If you get a few minutes, 2 to be exact, check out my entry over at the Public Radio Talent Quest, Creativity Is....

If you have a couple more minutes, like maybe 4, you can register and vote.... and hang around, grab a mug of coffee and listen to some other awesome audiophiles.

Today's Therapy

Today's therapy session for Virgo (Aug 23 - Sep 22):

Your planetary ruler Mercury is highly charged now as it moves into Gemini, its other home sign, increasing the general data flow in your life. Unfortunately, this doesn't necessarily make you feel more comfortable or more capable.

Great. I was hoping my weird mood would be changing soon. Thank god Mercury is NOT in retrograde. That would be more than I could handle.

You would rather have less information that is more useful.
Don't panic, for this transit won't last.
In the next couple weeks, do whatever you can to soothe your frazzled nerves.

So, yoga tonight? or nice glass of cabernet?
hmmmm.

Astrologer or Therapist?

Today's horoscope via tarot.com

Virgo (Aug 23 - Sep 22)

Circumstances seem to get in the way of your high hopes for meaningful dialog today. There are so many topics you really want to talk about as your emotions bump up against the reality of your current relationships.

Even if it feels like the resistance is coming from someone else, look within to see how you have contributed to establishing the distance. Increasing your self-awareness will help the boundaries dissipate over the next few days.

makes me think I should find the services of a good astrologer rather than a therapist...

But wait, there's more

If bad things come in threes I'm in trouble.
I'm bummed because my plans to have FUN this evening were cancelled.
and so I worked late, great talk with my boss, brainstorming, planning, shooting the breeze, finishing up some stuff...
and then my roommate called.
Alex, my cat, has another Urinary Tract Infection. It's bad. She's bleeding a lot.
So I fly home as fast as my little turbo-charged beetle can take me, to take care of my cat. It's bad.
Her little kitty bed (lined with newspaper) is red with blood. Bloody urine.
nice.
and her little kitty but is drenched in urine soaked blood.
I gave her an antibioitic I have left over from the last UTI.
Then I called the vet.
I really don't want to take her in.
It's traumatic for everyone.
And Expensive.
And I'm broke.
and all this reminds me what a Bad Kitty Mommy I am.
She's 14 years old.
And costing me a fortune.
I've renamed her "Down Payment."
And I don't want to put her down.
Because I'm not sure I can do it.
How do you know when the time is right?
Every 3 or 4 months we go through this bloody but thing.
And she can't walk very well.
But she still loves me.
And she still likes to play with the newspaper, especially on Sunday Mornings when we play hide the kitty in the paper.
And she purrs.
And she has her box that she stays in most of the time.
And when there's dinner involved she can get to the kitchen in record time, even if she is dragging her hind legs behind her.
So is it time?
And how can I force her into the cat carrier and take her to the vet where she hates everyone and will hiss and growl and try to bite and then they will kill her?
shit shit shit shit shit.
Probably a good thing my plans got cancelled 'cause I am NOT good company right now. But still, it sucks having to do all this shit alone.

When did I become invisible?

Do you ever wonder if you're invisible?

Like when you're in the grocery store. And you've conscientiously pulled your cart to one side of the aisle so other people can pass while you scan the shelves looking for oh, let's say a bottle of basalmic vinager. And along comes some woman who doesn't make eye contact. With anyone. And stops her cart. Right. In front. Of you. Blocking your line of vision to the shelf of vinegar. And still. She won't make eye contact with you. Maybe it's because you are invisible.

how pathetic am I ?

I'm totally bummed because my evening plans got cancelled.
It's NOT that I don't have other things to do-- you know,
THE BOOK I'M SUPPOSED TO BE WRITING.
but I'm so damn tired of doing stuff alone.

Best Night Ever!

Well, maybe not the best night ever, but right up there! I had SO much fun last night I thought I'd share.

First off, my very bestest friend Julie came down from L.A. (she moved there for L.O.V.E a couple years ago) ANYWAY, Julie was down because she had a business meeting in the early a.m. on Monday.

Julie and I always have so much fun together. We can laugh together and cry together, and talk about really serious stuff, and stuff you would never ever ever talk to anyone else about. And sometimes we just get really silly. She brought her harmonica and her juice harp, and we noodled around on my guitar, and made our own radio show. Even though I am not doing a radio show.

So we add to the mix my friend Rich coming over so we could finish working on the audio production of Lil Soldier, a short story in his collection of stories, Julie In Mittens.

And Judy G joined us... another of my very talented writer friends from my Read and Critique group (led by Judy Reeves). (we'll be recording Judy G's story next!!)

We each got to read dialog parts from Rich's story. I was Mrs. Cartwright the teacher, but couldn't really get the exasperated-over-worked- under-appreciated- pissed-off-teacher tone so I needed a LOT of direction. Julie was the oh so sweet Miss Mindy, and Judy G nailed it as Davy's mom. (Rich was Davy, the 10 year old narrator with a very deep voice)

My favorite part was when I decided that the scene under the wheel barrow would sound better if it were spoken under a giant soup pot for the echo-effect. I especially liked the part where I made Rich wear it on his head for full effect even though he didn't really need to do that. But he looked really funny and I should have had my camera but I did not. oh well. next time.

I wish I could have creative fun like that every night. Writing can be such a solitary and sometimes somber (I love alliteration) experience.

Last night, bringing Rich's words to life, speaking them out loud, fumbling over them, working together, laughing.... it is what I imagine being in a band is like-- getting together to jam and make great music together.

sometimes ya gotta wonder

So I was invited to see a show last night with my friend Rich. Actually it started as "a modest proposal" which of course got me to thinking all kinds of strange thoughts (read Jonathan Swift's essay "A Modest Proposal")

EMAIL SUBJECT: a modest proposal

I just had an idea (too much coffee at work). Remember I told you about my friend the Burlesque/Caberet girl? Her one-woman show is next Friday, May 4th at this place called the Funhouse. My friend and I are going. Do you want to go? I'm not sure what to expect from the show, but she's really entertaining and says it will be a mixture of comedy/music/caberet and a gameshow (??).

Anyway, I was thinking she would be a perfect person for you to record an interview about creativity for your future radio show. She's a single mom, works her ass off entertaining San Diego 7 nights a week (seriously, her resume/work schedule is off the hook), is a great storyteller, and I'm assuming the show will be very creative. I think she'd be an interesting subject--she's EXTREMELY candid--and I can set it up easy if you're interested.

Whaddya think?
-rjb

I didn't know what to think.... except first off, I'm not doing a radio show! I'm writing a book. Or at least I'm supposed to be. Even though the idea of a radio show has been tossed around, and I LOVE audio. Bottom line, this proposal stressed me out on so many levels. So, after several emails back and forth, by which time I'm sure Rich was like "sheesh its just a show/idea/email and I had no idea Jenn was so damn neurotic." I suggested we start with I would (forego First Friday Open Mic) go see the show. (Note: Rich has read most of my memoir, so he should know how neurotic I am)

Of course I stressed about the First Friday thing all Friday long. I mean I'm a REGULAR at First Friday. I'm comfortable there. People KNOW me. I'm in the IN crowd. sort of. I mean I get invited to dinner after the show. And best of all if the show is bad, wait three minutes, someone else will be on!

But this... trapped in a tiny theater. Watching a One Woman Show. Put on by a burlesque dancer. I was skeptical, but I decided to reach outside my comfort zone and go. Besides, I like Rich (I'll fill you in on him in another post-- he's an awesome writer and I promised to review his manuscript).

So it wasn't as bad as I thought it could be. But (there's always a but!)it wasn't as good as I had hoped either.

The One Woman is a woman named Laura Jane of San Diego. Wilcock she'll tell you... not Wilcox, only one cock, not two cocks, one cock dangling at the end of her name just in case she needs one. is that funny? she likes to say the word "cock" a lot. Oh, and Celine Dion is a slut. whatever that means.

Laura Jane has a lot going for her:

• She actually CAN sing. Of course she yucks it up with a lot of crude humor, but she has a decent voice.


• Her poetry is pretty good as well. Delivery campy of course, but some fun word play.


• Some of her "skits" (for lack of a better word) were funny (she does bill herself as a comedienne). I particulary enjoyed her song medley of different impressions from Lou Rawls and Elvis to Carol Channing, Britney Spears, Cher... sans Celine, of course.


• And she has a lot of guts getting up there on stage and baring her... well you knew that was coming, didn't you... more on that later...


• It was acceptable to brown-bag booze, but I didn't know that ahead of time

For me, what the show lacked was a coherent story line. Or an added layer of some sort of social commentary.

Maybe I'm a snob, maybe I've become an old fart, a stuffed shirt, I don't know, but the humor was the kind of thing I would have laughed at when I was 13.

I wasn't offended by any of the crude humor, I just didn't think it was very funny, and often, instead of getting more complex, digging deeper, I felt like Laura Jane was going for the easy laugh, the cheap shot or just trying to be shocking.

Nudity was to be expected, especially since Rich said she was a "burlesque/caberet gal," but the full frontal boobage didn't really add to the story, except perhaps to give Laura Jane an opportunity to show off her very ample and pendulous breasts.

The "skit" which afforded Laura Jane this opportunity was when she told a story about her being torn between wanting to suckle one of the pastries or some chick's breasts... so she came out on stage, topless of course, carrying a full plate of pastries. It was predictable.

The game show portion of the show, thank god didn't involve me as a contestant. I won't go into details, but one of the gals that was with us actually won and the gift prize bag included a small bottle of Jaeggermeister and some Red Bull. And kindly enough 4 plastic glasses. So we silently toasted Laura Jane from the back row. And let me tell you I thought Red Bull alone was bad. It's three times as bad mixed with Jaegger. bleckh.

So. I'm glad I went. It was amusing. Kudos to Laura Jane for getting out there and doing it-- whatever "it" is. She does appear to have an audience of regulars who enjoy her show and had lots of opportunities to laugh. It's just not for me.

As to an interview. Well, we'll see. I've got a May 18 deadline to mail my manuscript. So I don't really have the time right this minute to work on a radio show of any kind. Maybe next month.

Shameless Plug

This is a shameless plug promoting my sister's (ad)venture as a Gyrotonic instructor.

Most of you know Debby's story...
in 2000 she was diagnosed with breast cancer.

It was caught early,
and after the standard course of treatment the prognosis looked good.



But (there's always a but), in 2004 it was discovered again, this time as metastisized breast cancer...
landing in her bones, specifically her pelvis. She was treated with chemo, and with radiation.

The drugs left her weak and thin and the radiation left her hip muscle damaged-- at one point she was even using a walker.

In her quest to regain her strength, and improve the range of motion in her hip, through a friend who is a physical therapist, she found Gyrotonic exercise. If you had seen my sister in 2004, you would not recognize her today. She not only looks great, she is successfully keeping the cancer at bay and her physical fitness has improved significantly. In fact, the attached postcard is a picture of Debby on the Gryotonic tower.

Debby liked the exercise system so much that she determined to become a certified Gyrotonic instructor, which she completed earlier this year.

The exercise system is similar to pilates. You work one-on-one with an instructor utilizing the machine's system of weights and pulleys for resistance training. I liken a Gryotonic session to something between a workout and a massage. The next day you definitely feel like you got a work out, and all the stretching and rotational movement makes you feel like you got a massage.

A private session is usually $65, but as a new Gyrotonic instructor, Debby is offering a first time client special of $35 for an hour-long session.... She's working out of a pilates studio in Encinitas on El Camino Real just north of Encinitas Boulevard. (The Pilates Place is located at 317 N. El Camino Real Suite 109, Encinitas, CA)

I know this is not for everyone-- maybe it's not in your budget, maybe Encinitas is too far-- but (see, I told you there's always a but!) maybe you know someone this would be perfect for, and you could pass this along.

If you have any questions, give me a holler, or an email, or call Debby direct.

Thanks for reading! No obligation to buy anything, ever...

Deadline.

Sorry I've not posted lately.... I don't really know to whom I am apologizing, the universe? the internets? the 3 people that read my blog? (Hi Leah, Joe, Sheila). Part of the "posting problem" is that I am on deadline to finish my book. Now lest ye get all excited thinking I have a publishing contract or something (I wish) the deadline is to submit a "whole" draft to my fellow writers -- and the professor-- who will be teaching the Master Class at the Taos Summer Writing Conference in July. I have been accepted into the class, limited to only 6 attendees, and with the expectation that said attendees have a 'whole" draft of their "novel length" piece ready for critique. HA HA HA.... what was I thinking? I'm writing at a snail's pace of 2 pages per week, and even turning those in late to my own Read and Critique group. I have 128 pages. Make that 130.... I should have 200 pages of "Reconstructing My Mother." My deadline is May 18 to be postmarked. No exceptions.
Like I said. WHAT WAS I THINKING?

Oh yeah, I've been depressed. April 15 marked the one year anniversary of my father's passing... not to mention the fact that I OWED the flipping IRS and I am totally broke and feeling completely pathetic and depressed and lonely and ugly even though everyone keeps saying how great my hair looks and my new glasses and "are you SEEEING someone..." yeah. right. did I mention that I was depressed?

In conclusion. I have a book to write. I just stopped in to say hello.

New Glasses

and a new hairdo too, but you can't tell in this picture.

Dare to Dream

I've not been posting much lately as you may (or may not) have noticed. I spent a few days in New York and since my return, it's been busy busy at work (where I have been creating blog posts). Oh, and I'm trying to write my book. I need to be done sometime in early May. Because I signed up for a Master Class. In Taos. With Gregory Martin... and it's hard to keep on track when people are pulling me in other directions and it's So. Much. Easier to do things for other people than do things for myself.

In New York I attended a conference, Blogher for Business, to learn how to utilize blogs in a business, how to measure effectiveness, what's the R in ROI... good stuff. I also met an interesting woman from Boston, Whitney Johnson. I'm not sure if or how she'll fit into my life, but you know the saying "when the student is ready, the teacher will come?" I've been reading her blog sporadically since my return from New York. I think there are some messages there that I need to hear.

Her latest post, What Not To Wear, first attracted my attention because I love the show What Not To Wear. And then, it got me thinking about dreams.

How do successful people become successful? What's the difference between someone who dreams and someone who Does? Do you have to live your dream at the expense of other people? How do you keep good boundaries while at the same time keep good relationships? And if you do change, if you do decide to pursue your dream, have you noticed that sometimes that choice upsets the balance of "power" in a given relationship?

I have more to say... but no time for now. What do you say?

Dreams of an NPR-o-holic

oh
so
tempting.
Anyone
want
to
play?

Why I'm Ordering Showtime

First Fridays March Missives

In case you missed March's First Friday at The Grove, hosted by San Diego Writers, Ink, you can hear the stories here.... no, not here, here, on FirstFridayProse.com.

Be sure to check out the soon to be classics, "Foreskins" by Eber Lambert... "Big Wheel Depravation" by James Spring, and of course, "Geckos" by yours truly... Enjoy!

Oh, and Victoria did an entire 3 minutes in second person. Very impressive, "When Crazy Taps You on the Shoulder."

Puppies!

Last year my neighbor lost both his dogs-- within about 6 months of each other. He'd had them both since puppyhood. He taught them tricks. They were good dogs.

So now my neighbor got a puppy. Jaegger... not sure how to spell it, it's like Jaeggermeister, but Jaegger means hunter in German.

ANYWAY, this is an old old picture. Puppy is about a month older now. This is the first day he came to live with Kevin.

He is an Australian Cattle Dog-- Jaegger, not Kevin.

Kevin went out to Alpine or some other godforsaken town east of here to go LOOK at the puppies. This little guy was the last one. He was in a kennel. The breeder didn't let him hang with his puppy brothers and sisters because she didn't want them to bond. Because somehow it would be harder when they were given away. Also, she never loved on the puppies... she didn't want to bond with them. This poor guy had never walked on grass before! Kevin is such a softie. I think he would have bought all the puppies if they were there.

A Vintage Sewing Pattern Give-Away

So, I have these vintage sewing patterns. I posted a mention over at Leahpeah's blog, and Leah said she's interested in a couple of the Vogue patterns. Then Andrea emailed me and said she was interested... so I took pictures of the rest of them and offered them to her. And she's claimed a couple. The rest are up for grabs.

They will be mailed to you at no charge. I do not want payment. I think they are only worth a couple of dollars and mostly I want to make sure they go to someone who will use them.
I would ask that in return, you send a photo of the finished product you create....

This one is one of my favorites.
I imagined myself wearing this dress dashing around the streets of Paris....
on my way to an important meeting.
To meet an important man.
And I look stunning.
In reality, I wandered Paris with my sister.
I mostly wore jeans.
And instead of a sassy scarf,
I wore a backpack
slung over my shoulder.
Tres chic. Quelle fromage!




This one gal in the gray pantsuit her leg kicked,
flicked. Out to the side,
displays a certain joi d'vivre.
I picture myself wearing the
white fringed pantsuit. (far right)
It MUST
be
polyester.

Where's the party?


So I'm offering them here to you, dear readers. If you'd like to claim one or more, Contact Me. First come, first served.

You can see all the vintage sewing pattern photos at Flickr. I've noted "Claimed by..." in the photo description.

Did I choose purple or did purple choose me?

I just discovered this purple women group, and realized I am in fact purple myself, evidenced by my last post. The work is one I created in 2001.

And now I have a definition for what purple is... and it appears I fit the bill, having no children.

Growing up I always assumed that I would marry and have children. Afterall, isn't this what little girls do? grow up, get married, and have children.

I've always believed that having children, raising children, is a huge responsibility. One that should not be taken lightly. It's a responsibility I believe is better to undertake with a partner.
So, at this point, even if I am fortunate enough to find a nice boy to settle down with, I'm thinking bio-babies are out of the question.

And I'm ok with that. I never had a yearning for babies. And lord knows there's plenty of other people out there who have the emotional tools to become great parents.

I am Purple

Sometimes a little red
full of passion
Sometimes a little blue
sad and serious
The color of the early night sky
or fresh and fun like posies and plums
A symbol of royalty
of ceremony
I am sometimes powerful
I am Purple.

How to Cut a Perfect Heart

Valentine's Day, like every holiday, was a big deal in my house growing up. I have fond memories of my Mom, decorating the house with paper hearts and flowers, and making a special meal (which somehow involved red food dye?)

I even remember very clearly Mom teaching me how to cut out a perfect heart, folding in half diagonally a square of red or pink construction paper, and cutting the outside edge in a swoop, then unfolding to reveal a perfectly symetrical heart.

Now, especially since I am single, Valentine's Day is not quite so much fun. It's the one day of the year when you (I) feel particularly pathetic without a mate. But don't feel too sorry for me. I did get two Valentines so far. From my aunt and uncle-- they send silly ones every year and this year was no exception, plastic cupids included. And I got a Valentine from my roommate, who is of course going out on a hot date tonight. Oh, and my sister wants to take me out for dinner. But not tonight because she'll be in L.A. for a gyrotonic training session.

And if I get totally desparate, there's always Neil's Emergency Valentine Day Hotline over at Citizen of the Month.

And if I start to feel really sorry for myself, there is always V-Day, a global movement to stop violence against women and girls.

And finally, I can thank god (or would that be gods?) that I don't live in ancient Rome and am neither a goat nor a dog on February 15 for the festival of Lupercalia, which is the origin of the conveniently calendared christian St. Valentine's Day

[Lupercalia ] began with the sacrifice by the Luperci (or the flamen dialis) of two male goats and a dog. Next two patrician young Luperci were led to the altar, to be anointed on their foreheads with the sacrificial blood, which was wiped off the bloody knife with wool soaked in milk, after which they were expected to smile and laugh [NOT SURE I'D BE LAUGHING WITH BLOOD DRIPPING DOWN MY FACE] ; the smearing of the forehead with blood probably refers to human sacrifice originally practised at the festival.

The sacrificial feast followed, after which the Luperci cut thongs from the skins of the victims, which were called Februa, dressed themselves in the skins of the sacrificed goats, in imitation of Lupercus, and ran round the walls of the old Palatine city, the line of which was marked with stones, with the thongs in their hands in two bands, striking the people who crowded near. Girls and young women would line up on their route to receive lashes from these whips. This was supposed to ensure fertility, prevent sterility in women and ease the pains of childbirth. This tradition itself may survive (Christianised, and shifted to Spring) in certain ritual Easter Monday
whippings.

And speaking of St. Valentine... did you know there really is not a St. Valentine, but rather that St. Valentine may refer to one or all of three martys that showed up in the history books around the same time that the Pope outlawed public pagan rituals. Hmm.

So, Happy Valentine's Day, V-Day or Lupercalia, or whatever you may be celebrating.

San Diego Blogger Awards

Doing my duty here as a responsible citizen of the blogosphere, and a little shameless plug for myself and my own little blog:

SanDiegoBloggers.com is requesting nominees for the San Diego
Blogger Awards - Blogs to Watch in 2007.....

..... [Email] ..... blogs [at] sandiegobloggers.com with the category and URL of the blog you nominate. Any additional notes or insight into why you nominate each blog
would be greatly appreciated.

The site says on February 28th, 2007 the nominees will be posted and finalists chosen, so I'm not sure what the deadline is for nominations....

Anyway, if you want to nominate me, go ahead. And if it will persuade at all, you might be interested to know that the only thing I've ever won is a kite flying contest in the second grade. I had the most beautiful kite. It was made of pink gift wrapping paper and my mom helped me cut out flowers made of yellow, white and blue tissue paper to glue to the front of it. Unfortunately it only flew for just one moment. One glorious moment before it came crashing down to earth, suffering structural damage that could not be repaired in the field... sigh...

Complete info the San Diego Blogger awards can be found on the SanDiegoBloggers website. I'm thinkng my category would be Personal Blogs and Writing. I wish it were Travel and Adventure, but I have not been doing much of that lately... maybe next year.

Gyro Debby

My sister got her Gyrotonic tower purchased, and set up at The Pilates Place in Encintas. It looks like some sort of ancient torture device, with all those straps and weights, but its actually pretty gentle, and a nice workout. I got my first Gyrotonic session last night.

I'm a little sore today... and I feel like you feel after a good yoga class or a massage, where the lactic acid and toxins that were trapped in your joints are released, which is good, but I should have been drinking water to flush them out of my system.... next time. And a lot of the little muscles in my sides and abdomen are, well, lets just say I can feel them. I know they are there. Like they jumped out and said, "hello! you have some muscles here!"

BY the way, this is neither the studio where my sister is teaching nor the exact machine she uses for teaching (though it is my sister as the gyro model in the picture here)

Cough Cough Gasp Gasp

I still want a cigarette. I quit last Friday. Mostly. I've had a couple since I quit. Oh well. I'm doing fairly well all things considered. Is there ever a good time to quit?

Last month we (my sister and I) finally got my Dad's condo on the market... it took a long time to clean it out, and then we fixed it up a little, which of course cost more and took longer than we had planned... but we got it on the market. Our first offer after a week on the market was for 30K under the asking price. AND they wanted us to pay closing costs. What the buyer didn't know is that we were not desparate. Yet. So we waited. And yes, gone are the days of homes on the market for 2 days and bidding wars, and such, but a month later we got another offer.

Today we accepted the offer for our Dad's condo. For the asking price, except they want us to pay 5K towards closing costs. So, instead of waiting longer, paying another real estate tax bill, and more HOA fees that are outrageous ($540 / month) we accepted the offer. So keep your fingers crossed for us. We need to be done with this. Get the IRS off our backs, settle my Dad's estate and be done. And yes, it feels good, but also, it made us sad today. So we cried.

And I wanted to go smoke. Even though many of my Dad's health problems were directly related to his smoking, I wanted to smoke. How sick is that?

Very Zen Amanda

OK, I know some of my readers (one of the three of you out there-- Hi Uncle Bill!) probably think I am all hip and savvy about this blog thing, like I'm in the know, but the truth, I am pretty clueless. Well at least oblivious to the behind the scenes emailing and cyberstalking and ugly commenting that goes on. Those people don't read my blog. Thank god. I suppose if my blog were more popular I might get some of that. Or not. Who knows why people do the things they do.

I met Amanda, Just Amanda, of Very Zen last July at Blogher. I didn't really know she was one of those quazi-popular bloggers... she just seemed like a nice gal, and I checked out her blog and she has a quick wit and a heck of singing voice, so I dropped in on occassion. Well, apparently she's had enough.

So... So long Just Amanda. Wishing you well....

Suprise Suprise Suprise

Sheila's post about suprise parties got me to thinking about, well, suprise parties!

I don't have any horror stories, in fact just the opposite.

1. My sister's 40th birthday party. She had earlier in the year gone to a 40th birthday for a friend. It was a catered, private dinner cruise. It was lovely. She said she wished she could do that for her 40th birthday, but she couldn't afford it. When I looked into it, and even asking my granddad, and my dad to pony up, I couldn't really afford it either, but I got an idea. I coordinated a suprise dinner cruise for her. I snuck into her house (ok, I had a key) and fortunately she had synched her Palm pilot with her address book on her computer, so I was able to nab her entire address book, and invite all her friends. Then, her boyfriend arranged a "dinner" for her with another couple. Steve told her, "Sorry I couldn't do a private yacht, but we thought a dinner cruise would be fun." and my sister pasted a smile on her face as they boarded the Hornblower boat and said, "How nice," in that voice that was tinged with a little "oh you cheapskate I would rather eat at a nice restaurant."

But when she entered the ship's dining room she saw there were oh, say 30 or 40 of her friends-- friends from all over the US-- and family-- also from all over the US and she was totally, completely utterly suprised. It was awesome.

2. 2004. The worst year of my life so far. (although 2006 is in a tie at this point) I was turning 40. My granddad had died in February. I had to find a job, find a new place to live and move. And I was turning forty. Oh yeah, and my sister had cancer. Real bad cancer. Stage 4 breast cancer. In her liver, her brain, her bones. She was in bad shape. And we were settling my Granddad's estate. And everyone was totally focused on helping Debby get better, and nobody gave a shit about me. Poor me. My life sucked.

August. The week before my birthday. My aunt and uncle and my cousin Katie were visiting, to deal with more estate business, to go through stuff in the house... to visit my poor cancerous sister. No one cared about me. Poor me. And my sister, too tired from chemo, said, "Why don't you come here for dinner." So I said, "OK."

"And why don't you stop at Trader Joe's and get some wine."

Trader Joe's was on the way, so I said, "No problem."

It was weird that she insisted I stop at Trader Joe's, not Ralph's or Vons... Aunt Mary K and Uncle Bill had gone over earlier. Katie was in the car with me. And I as I turned onto the street where Trader Joe's is... and turned into the Trader Joe's parking lot, I notice a whole bunch of people standing around holding balloons.... and one of those trucks with a giant, mega sized basket, a basket for a balloon. And I see my Aunt Mary K, and my Uncle Bill, and hey, what's my friend Julie doing? she lives in LA! and there's Karin! and Tina! and Scott! and Ralph ! and Catheryn... and I stall my car, and the person behind me honks because I'm not TURNING. INTO. THE. PARKING. LOT. FAST. ENOUGH. But who cares! Tears are streaming down my face and I'm laughing and crying at the same time, because they do care about me. No one forgot my birthday. My sister remembered my birthday. She arranged a balloon ride for me. For me and a bunch of my bestest friends. She's the best sister ever.

Blogger acting wonky?

We're testing the new Carmen Electrode blog... go on, google Carmen Electrode... you know you want to ... she has a new look, and we moved her blog to our our new dedicated server (this is work related stuff)

So long, farewell, etc 2006

I had in draft form this post about saying adios to 2006. It was a crappy year. I'm glad to see it go. But the truth it its not quite done with me. So I really can't say goodbye yet. Lord knows I need to soon. I have things to do this year, that just aren't getting done.

I really need to work on my book, Reconstructing My Mother. I've not been writing much, except blogging, and writing articles for welding journals, which really doesn't count. In fact sometimes I wonder if I use up all my words doing these other kinds of writing... but the reality is that the memoir project is an emotional place to be and I'm not strong enough right now.

But now I have a deadline. I'm pretty much signed up for (not yet paid, so I can still get out of it) taking a Master Class in memoir at the Taos Summer Writing conference hosted by the University of New Mexico. Which is where I started this book in 2005. The teacher for the master class is the same one I took from before, Gregory Martin, author of Mountain City and teacher extraordinaire. He's already given me the OK to come to the master class. Now I need to have a first draft done. It does not need to be pretty, it just needs to be done. And done by the beginning of June. What am I nuts?? don't answer that.

Anyone have any tips on how to just do it? Even 5 minutes a day seems like to too much right now. It's like I'm sabotaging myself. I mean I just spent 1/2 an hour creating this post when I could have been working on my book. So now I have to beat myself up about it which just makes it worse. And I know I'm doing it and I still can't stop.

thar she blows!

Whale watching on Monday. Click on the image to see it bigger and better. More later. I'm tired.

Amy Wallen and Me at the Semi Permanent Ink Spot

This is a picture of me at Amy Wallen's book launch party. No, I don't have a picture of Amy, this is my blog. It's all about me!

Seriously... it really was all about Amy Wallen, and her book MoonPies and Movie Stars... as it should be. Amy is the hostess of First Friday Open Mic a production of San Diego Writers Ink, which is where you'll find me most first Fridays of the month. Amy is a terrific hostess/emcee even if she is a bit anal about the 3 minute rule. She is also a great writer, which I knew before I read the book because I'd heard bits and pieces read pre-publication at said open mics and at writing workshops I've attended with Amy. Beyond that I would consider Amy a friend, and I can't tell you how happy I am for her. She has put in the time and done the hard work and written a book I can heartily recommend.

Ruby Kincaid, bowling alley owner extraordinaire, sets off to California hot on the tail of her daughter Violet, who left Devine Texas four years earlier.... to complicate matters she doesn't know how to get in touch with Violet, who had been recently spotted on the t.v. as the new Buttermaid (it's better made). Along for the ride is Ruby's her crazy carousing sister Loralva (so she can get on The Price is Right) and Imogene, Violet's mother-in-law (who's a sour puss but has the Winnebago for travelling and the money)... then there's Bubbie and Bunny, the kids Violet had left behind.
Moonpies and Movie Stars has been reviewed now in the LA Times, and the Washington Post (A World Gone Madcap by Louis Bayard)so I won't do a review here, but I will say she has written what I consider to be one of the best sentences ever:

"Aunt Loralva says let's get a move on-- Hollywood, California here we come!" Ruby's heart stopped somewhere between Hollywood and California. It snagged on the comma.

I just love that line, "It snagged on the comma." Get this book. It's fun. And you'll want to eat a Moonpie.... even if they do taste a bit like sugar covered cardboard.

I still love Leah

Even though Leah Peah didn't participate in my Tag You're It post. These things are silly anyway (sorry Sheila). I think I only did it because I was looking for something to post anyway, and why not reveal my weirdness??

So 2007 has come. I spent the last week cleaning my room. I polished my wooden bookshelves with lemon oil, and because I bought a new matress-- the first new matress I've ever owned in my life-- I had the opportunity to vacuum really well under said old matress before the new one was delivered. And while I was at it, I vacuumed in all the corners and crevices. And while I had the vacuum out, I decided to go get some of those Space Bags so I could free up some linen closet space. What fun it is to pack those bags and suck all the air out rendering them flat! Yes, I lead an exciting life. But seriously, it feels good to start the new year off with a very clean room, and space in my closet.

And while I was going through my closet, I pulled out more things for Good Will: a sweater I inadvertently put in the dryer (which had linted up my black jeans but good), a shoe rack, a sheet set and a couple of blankets (don't worry I still have linens for guests), some shoes which although they may be really cute are horrendously uncomfortable. Over the next few days, these items will make it from the reading loft to the trunk of my car, and hopefully end up at the Good Will before long. It sure feels good to get it out of my room.

I still have paper work to go through, but I did manage to sort out a lot of things into various piles: recycling pile, shredding pile, and the I still need to deal with this stuff pile. It's a work in progress.

So here's to 2007, and all the possibilities! especially now that I have room!

Miracles

Miracles are a rare thing. Too rare. Keri passed away last night.

Neither chemotherapy nor radiation, Tibetan singing bowls nor prayer circles were enough to save her, to summon a miracle. She was surrounded by love and I hope that made her transition easier, more peaceful.

I'm sad that I didn't know her better, that my sister lost a friend. They met in the chemo lounge, each connected up via an IV drip to their own special concoction of drugs. (My sister can make friends wherever she goes!) It turned out that Keri's parents lived in my granddad's neighborhood, just a few doors around the corner. And a few doors from Dr. Bernstein, their oncologist.... they all got to know each other because of cancer. Debby and Keri soon became friends regardless of the cancer, in spite of Cancer.

If Debby didn't have cancer they would never have met. She would not have lost a friend... Debby would never have known the difference. Keri would not have mattered.

But she did matter. And I can't help but think that maybe my sister has a special angel looking out for her now.

Sometimes its hard

Hard to stay positive in the face of adversity. Somehow this guy Tom Bailey found me and posted on my blog, so in the interest of good blogosphere relations, I checked out his blog, which he bills a "a personal blog for people who know me" and says it "is not a business blog."

Well, I don't know him. But I like his blog anyway. Hope he doesn't mind if I pop over and visit every now and again.

Many of his posts are about staying positive. This is a message I need to hear often. I truly believe that we create our own reality, that we choose how we react, that negative thinking is a bad habit and only serves to make you feel bad... Unfortunately I don't always practice what I know.

One of the reasons I named my blog akajesais because of my nickname, JeSais, which began as a joke. Later, taking the name JeSais was my way to remind myself that I know more than I think I know.

I don't do New Years Resolutions. I think they are meaningless unless you have a plan for implementation in place, complete with milestones, and measurable goals. What I do try to do is assess at year's end my accomplishments. This is a good way to stay positive, to focus on what I did right.

I know this post a bit of a ramble. I hope like me, you'll all take a moment to take stock, look at what you've done right this year. Make a list. Check it twice. Did you go the extra mile for someone? Did you finish a project? Did you make someone smile? Did you do something nice for yourself? Remember one good moment-- a sunset, a raindrop, a conversation with a friend... Even if it was something small put it on your list. Because, afterall, big stuff starts with small stuff. Or a better way to say that is "a journey of a thousand miles begins with one small step."

Happy Holly Days everyone.

Say a prayer for Keri

Debby's friend Keri is not doing well. She's in the hospital and has been for the last 6 days. She can't eat. She can't talk. She can't see.

Keri has ovarian cancer... cancer that has metastisized. Spread. It's in her brain now and they couldn't get it all with Gamma Knife like they were able to do for Debby. So they had to do brain surgery. And radiation. And chemo... and it hasn't helped and it totally sucks and its unfair and I'm glad its not my sister Debby. I wish it weren't Keri either, but I'm really glad its not my sister.

So in the midst of all the ho ho hos and and nog drinking, raise a glass and say a little prayer for Keri. And even if your family drives you crazy, enjoy the moments you have with them.

Tagged. Why am I doing this?

It's the blogosphere's answer to a chain letter... a meme or a meme wannabe in the making. Sheila of GetSheila.com "tagged" me which means (a)I'm supposed to post in response to being tagged. and (b) I'm supposed to pass it on and I'm supposed to post the rules.

My post:

1. Like Sheila I count things. Mostly stairs and steps
2. I play air piano along with the music even though I've never learned piano
3. I imagine flying my car off a cliff, not in a suicide attempt, but rather in an attempt to be airborn... to fly. Of course I know this will not work, and I would die, so I don't do it.
4. I wait until the last minute to do almost everything. Then I stress over it and freak out. Doesn't matter what it is: paying a bill (thank god for online bill pay); making an appointment to get my hair done; writing an article/essay; etc.
5. I hate to shop. Really. Mostly because I hate to spend money AND because I usually know what I want, and then of course I can't find it so it becomes an exercise in frustration.
6. And speaking of exercise... when I do exercise my face turns bright red and freaks out aerobics instructors.

Passing it On:

Thats all. I don't know if I have 6 blog people but I'll give it a shot... Jes... leahpeah...and um, while we're at it Joe... terri (because she really needs to write a new blog post) and Jill the Muse (because she really needs to write a new blog post too) and last, but certainly not least, dear Ralph, so he too will learn the joys of the blogosphere. Sorry guys.

Remember, this is like a chain letter. You may ignore it if you like, or just do the post, no need to pass it on.

The rules:

Post a blog with your six weird habits/ things as well as the rules/ instructions;
Add to your blog a list of your six victims to be tagged;
Leave a comment for your six victims that says "You are tagged! Read my blog" (but you cannot tag the person who tagged you).

I am not a poet...

Not even a Prose Poet, as I discovered at last Saturday's workshop with Roger Aplon.

A prose poem is open ended. I like things wrapped up in a neat little box.

A prose poem is driven by metaphor. I'm not metaphoric in my writing.

A prose poem is dream-like, surreal. I'm real.

At any rate, here's what I came up with:

Today the sun shines like shards of glass piercing the soft blue sky and the ocean swell is from the south or maybe it's the storm that passed over Hawaii yesterday and today is the place to be in the town that is where we lived when I was five and six and maybe even seven. And now I stay out of the water, the smell, salt taste on my lips and bacteria that I fear may seep into my soul.

Today is the place I want to be usually and sometimes it is the only place that matters when life is unpredictable like a Vegas slot machine. One push of the button and you win or you lose and coins tumble like a thick chunky waterfall into a bucket, not your bucket but your neighbor's bucket and you want to be happy for him or her but you can't because your today has passed.

Today is a dream of birds flying, mocking squawking and swooping in and out of the pepper tree taunting me with their wings, but they don't know Today I will fly.

# # #
Not sure what it is but it is probably not a prose poem.

Poetry and Prose

On Saturday I'll be taking a workshop from published poet Roger Aplon-- The Prose Poem: Investigation and Discovery. I've met Roger once, briefly, at another event sponsored by San Diego Writers, Ink. He told me I wrote beautifully and I was too stunned to tell him I thought the same of his work. Not only does he write evocative poetry, he has a wonderful cadence and rhythm to his voice that lends itself so well to his poetry. His poetry reading voice is not the sing-song stacatto beat of a slam poet, but more like a melody of words that is performance, but natural as well.

Roger describes the workshop:

The prose poem is the child of associative & colorful prose. A bastard at best. Taking the economy of poetry & marrying it with the random experience of “story.” It can define a momentary, captivating glimpse at some “thing”: a chance encounter, a dream &/or any fragment that allows the reader to impose him or herself in or on that environment. The prose poem form allows greater latitude than strict “poetic” form where the line breaks must be of the most exquisite design. The prose poem is less formal, more given to risk & open-ended. A classic example of a renegade form. For this day we'll explore some prose poems & write some of our own, using as material our discussions, prompts, dreams & improvisation.

He says "This is an experiment as all prose poems are experiments. I'm looking forward to the investigation."

And so am I... and I look forward to the opportunity to play with words. And poetry, although not my strong suit, appeals to my desire to convey deep meaning with few words. As my writing coach says, I'm "more Joan Didion than Janet Fitch." I'd like to be a little of both, the minimalist approach of Didion blended with Fitch's mellifluous language.

Spam Spam Spam Spam....

This is from the Huh? file:

Sometimes the minivan of a class action suit self-flagellates, but a financial cowboy always graduates from a fruit cake of a ball bearing!

The defendant is gentle. When a briar patch is lazily snooty, the grizzly bear often is a big fan of a chess board of a turkey.

A light bulb related to the wedding dress prays, and the unstable support group reads a magazine; however, a bowling ball around a dolphin pours freezing cold water on a pork chop.

Sometimes a microscope goes to sleep, but another blood clot always finds subtle faults with the skyscraper!

I admit it, I read the SPAM sometimes. I'm sure there is some reason why they (the spammers) write the prose they do, probably to get around the SPAM filters, but my question is how does this work? the SPAM thing? are there really people who click on these emails, then actually BUY from people that have such unethical business practices? from people who can't write a decent sentence? and now I'm getting SPAM in Russian. Yeah, like I'm gonna click on that!

How much stuff do we need?

So, Black Friday has come and gone. I almost managed to stay away from the malls, but a leather jacket on sale for $50 enticed me to stop at Fashion Valley on the way home from taking my sister to the airport... at 10:30 pm. A great time to shop, by the way. The parking lot was clear, there were no crowds to deal with, but the store looked like a hurricaine went through it. And of course they didn't have the style I wanted in my size.

You can't see me shaking my head right now, but I am just thinking about it. I worked retail many years ago. When The Broadway was still alive. It was a second job for me so that I could earn extra money for a two month trip to Europe. The rudeness and messiness of people annoyed me then, but I swear it's gotten worse. I mean when did it become ok to, oh, say knock some shirt or sweater on the floor and pretend you don't see it, and walk away for some overworked eight dollar an hour employee to pick up? Seriously people. Will it kill you to bend over? to take a minute to hang it back up on the hanger? to just TRY to fold it back up and place it on the shelf?

And really, when you think about it, how much stuff do we really need? Do I really NEED a leather jacket? Sure it would be nice, and yeah, I got rid of (donated) my old pink puffy fiber-filled ski jacket and my fake leather jacket... but trust me, I won't freeze this winter.

To be honest, I have boxes in the garage that I never unpacked when I moved into this place 2 years ago. And more coming as my sister and I divy up the remains of my Dad's life. Just thinking about finding space for all the new stuff makes me start to hyperventilate.

However, if you must buy me a present, consider my Amazon wish list.... linked in the sidebar of this very blog... or better yet, give me a call, let's go for a walk, have a coffee, take a class together, visit a museum, an art gallery...

My Thanksgiving Toast

Here’s to the turducken, gobble gobble quack cluckin right onto our thanksgiving plates next to Mama Stamberg’s cranberry relish (oh my god its so pink)
And the fresh green beans called haricot vert and the salad called mache tossed with pomegranate and parmesan and corn pudding made with creamed corn just like mom used to make.

Here’s to the white bread dressing with tangy crispy apples, pecans and a touch of cinnamon just like grandma used to make and a hundred dollars worth of New York apple and LA pecan pies.

And here’s to relish trays and roasted savory sweet potatoes, lumpy mashed potatoes and smooth brown gravy with Bisto and creamed onions and lactaid tablets and where are the peas anyway?

Here’s to ignoring the football game or games or whatever is on the television and margaritas, merlot or beaujolais noveau

and

Mostly here’s to friends who are family and family who are friends who have come together to make all this happen.

Happy Thanksgiving everyone...

end of an era? changes in the wind for SanDiegoBlog

Joe C. moved away from San Diego awhile ago. We miss him and his lovely wife Leahpeah a lot... he has been kind enough to keep SanDiegoBlog going, along with WebSanDiego and SanDiegoBloggers (which he sold off last month).

So the last of the SanDiego properties, SanDiegoBlog, is now up for sale.

Here's the dilema. I want to buy it, but I'm not sure I can make it worth the monetary investment, specifically I'm not sure I have the time to invest to make it worth the investment.

Aside from my job, which takes up a good portion of my day, I am working on a book, a memoir (I usually say very creative mostly non-fiction). I've got a good portion done, and am now revising, compiling all my work into a first draft, and hopefully getting a book proposal together for the Feb. 2007 San Diego Writers Conference.

I have two other blogs I neglect...
and there's all the other ideas I have, like a class on how to blog for San Diego Writers Ink, a multi-media one-woman show of my memoir, Reconstructing my Mother... some ideas I have for audio production... a painting I want to do....

any thoughts? advice? encouraging words? discouraging words?

UPDATE: I took a pass on SanDiegoBlog. I may or may not continue to post over there, and I'm totally ok with that. So, I guess that means I'm back to working on my book... stay tuned.

Road Woes

I was going to post something about the idiot drivers on the road. Lord knows I have enough fodder on my daily commute-- and I'm going reverse traffic!

But Sheila beat me to it with her post on Road Ragishness. Amen Sister!

Stay tuned, however, I may just post something anyway. When I get some time. Where does all the time go that we save during daylight savings time??

Oh, and BTW, Sheila has her own domain now. GetSheila.com. She's all grown up.

more albums

ok, so here's the rest of the list. And seriously, if you want any of them, let me know... would you read the list before you start laughing already?? sheesh...

Hi Fi Spectacular: Sounds Of A Thousand Strings (it was my granddad’s and has cool cover)
Carmen Cavallero Plays His Show Stoppers (see note above)
Pretenders, the one With Brass In Pocket And Precious
Carole King, Tapestry
Little Feat, Dixie Chicken (Hey, I lived in Virginia)
Blondie, Hunter And Parallel Lines
Pat Benetar, Crimes Of Passion (2 Copies, note I only have one copy of Parallel Lines) And In The Heat Of The Night
Culture Club, Colour By Numbers
Go Go’s, Beauty And The Beat (we got the beat!)
The Human League Dare (don’t you want me baby?)
The Cars Candy-O
Led Zeppelin Zoso (with Stairway to Heaven of course)
Fleetwood Mac, Rumours
George Winston, Winter Into Spring (my mellow, I’m sophisticated, I drink real wine with a cork in the bottle and listen to jazz phase)
Elton John Greatest Hits And Don’t Shoot Me I’m Only The Piano Player
Joe Jackson’s Jumpin’ Jive
Lynyrd Skynyrd Gold And Platinum And One More From The Road
The Doors Greatest Hits
Beach Boys, Best of
Gilbert O'Sullivan Back to Front (Claire, the moment I met you I swear... it had to be something. Somewhere.....)
Peter Paul & Mary, Best Of in orange vinyl. way cool.
The Band.
Simon & Garfunkel, Bridge Over Troubled Water (I think that was my Dad's at one time)
Jim Croce Photographs and Memories (aka Greatest Hits) and Cat Stevens Greatest Hits... I think I stole them from a friend. Well stole is probably too literal, let's say borrowed and never returned and lost touch with her bla bla bla. .... and I don't remember her name any more, except Rebecca, so there ya go.
and Foreigner Double Vision seems to have the name Terri B on it which is my cousin Terri, but she probably just left it at my house 20 years ago.

And more from the What Was I Thinking category: Barbra Streisand Greatest Hits Vol. 2 (Did I Have Vol. 1? ) and Neil Diamond You Don’t Bring Me Flowers

and finally. The last album I ever bought, Toni Childs, Union, circa 1988. Maybe even the last album pressed, who knows. Seriously, who knows? When did they stop making albums and switch completely to CDs? hmmm.

Albums anyone?

Does anyone still listen to albums anymore? Does anyone remember what albums are anymore? I thought that turntables and albums were making a little comeback, and maybe I could unload my collection, but I think I was mistaken. It was just a ploy by the department stores last year to unload some old stock of turntables by turning them into a retro nostalgic must have kind of thing.

and besides, my collection of albums is really nothing to brag about, but I will share my bizarre music taste with you, all 5 of my loyal readers, and the occassional drop in / drive by blog reader who finds me by searching for "pert boobs."
Feel free to let me know if you want any of them. For the price of postage they could be yours:

The Beatles
Yesterday and Today, the first album I bought with my very own money.
Revolver, Let it Be, Meet the Beatles, and The Beatles Again were my father's records but I've had them a long time.
Oh, and Sgt Peppers Lonley Hearts Club Band, commerative color printed vinyl edition

Blondie, Parallel Lines (2 copies)

Heart, Dog and Butterfly and of course Dreamboat Annie (which I can still play on guitar)

The Eagles, The Long Run and Hotel California

Supertramp, Breakfast in America and Even in the Quietest Moments

Styx, Paradise Theater

Jackson Brown, Running on Empty

The Who, Face Dances

Electric Light Orchestra, Discovery

I'll post more later. I'm tired of typing. But to round out this post I'll add

Olivia Newton John, Have You Never Been Mellow. Yeah. I know. What was I thinking?

Congratulations to Jill Badonsky

I always have to say outloud in my head "bad. on. sky." to remember how to spell Jill Badonsky's name.

Anyway, just thought I'd share the news from Publishers Marketplace:


NON-FICTION: ILLUSTRATED/ART

Creativity coach, artist and author of THE NINE MODERN DAY MUSES AND A
BODYGUARD Jill Badonsky's THE DAILY AWE-MANAC, a full-color,
illustrated guide to living with spirit, purpose, and humor that
includes a page for each day of the year with "Today I Get to" prompts
(instead of a To-Do List), writing exercises, inspirational quotes,
and much more, to Jennifer Kasius at Running Press, by Stephanie Kip
Rostan at Levine Greenberg Literary Agency (world).

It's great to be surrounded by successful people doing cool things... and if you haven't already checked out Jill's website, TheMuseIsIn.com, the Nine Modern Day Muse book, gotten on her email list, whatever, Just Do. She's lots of inspirational fun.

Do you believe in astrology?

I don't believe in astrology, but sometimes.... ya just gotta wonder.... Here's my horoscope for today, read after I wrote my last post:

The imaginative Pisces Moon stimulates our dreams and increases the intensity of our fantasies. Additional adrenaline comes from the harmonious trine between sexy Venus and electric Uranus. We want to break out of our restraints to let pleasure rule the day, but retrograde Mercury is forming a tense square with austere Saturn, isolating us from the objects of our desires. Even if we strongly crave freedom, it may feel beyond our reach at this time.


... I feel just like that. Weird, huh.

Feeling rather maudlin today

Not sure if it's the whole Dia de los Muertos thing, or more overwhelm from dealing with my Dad's estate, feeling like I am totally alone in the world now-- no parents to watch over me, no kids to distract me-- like I'm the end of the line. Or the middle, floating with nothing to hang onto.

To top it of my boss's mom just had a stroke, so I'm here listening to him talk on the phone.

"It's ok Mom, Laurie and I are taking care of everything. You don't have to worry about a thing."

And she is comforted. And it strikes me. Who is going to take care of me when I get old and dotty?

So I think about this quote from the movie "American Beauty." The character Lester says in voice over:

Remember those posters that said, "Today
is the first day of the rest of your
life?" Well, that's true of every day
except one.
(a beat)
The day you die.

It sounds good, makes an impact and all but it is not true. Even the day you die is the first day of the rest of your life. The rest of your life is just very very short.

All this thinking makes me jittery, like I need to get out and do something crazy, move to Alaska or cash out my savings and to hell with sticking around here and hoping the real estate market bubble will burst enough so I can afford to buy a house.

And just in case you're curious, Merriam Webster Online defines maudlin as:

1 : drunk enough to be emotionally silly
2 : weakly and effusively sentimental

Etymology: alteration of Mary Magdalene; from her depiction as a weeping penitent

Yup, maudlin is a good word. Especially for Dia De Los Muertos.