MFA?

To MFA or not to MFA...

that is the question.

UCSD is starting up a program, but it won't be up and running until Fall 2007

That is the rumor. No hard information yet. We'll see.

It's about time...

it's about time I posted for 2006
it's about time I figured out what I want to do, focus on, manifest for 2006
it's about time. Too much time spent doing nothing, thinking about doing something but basically not using my time wisely.
it's about time I got back to work on my project. My art. The story I want to tell. Just 30 minutes a day. It's really not about time. It's about inclination, dedication, persistence, and a feeling that I do deserve to be successful. Sure I do well at my job, I have great friends and family, bla bla bla... but what is stopping me from greatness? what holds me back? why don't I just get out there and do it?

Does blogging help or hinder? Do I really get anything out of this exercise in typewritten drivel that no one reads? Or is it just a distraction to pursuing "Reconstructing My Mother?" How easy it would be to let that go. To start something else. A short fiction piece, heck even a novel seems easier than delving into my past, my mother's past, trying to make some sense out of it, my life, such as it was, is, will be. Maybe I can just pretend to remember. Be like James Frey, and smash my life into a Million Little Pieces and reconstruct it on paper. Will people say I lied? Does it matter? What is truth anyway? Don't we all make up our own version of reality based on our experiences, our predjudices, our desires. Who hasn't exagerrated for comic effect when telling a story, or for dramatic effect. Does that make the story a lie? If the story is really a sum of all the details, then does it really make a difference that one of the details is off by one or two. Is there really much difference between 10,000 and 10,097?

Haven't read the book, so I can't say whether the disputed details really make a difference in the overall story, or if the story is well-written, but if you read the book, and it meant something to you, touched you, moved you, opened your mind to something you didn't understand before, then what difference does it make whether he lied or not?

Merry Christmas: God Bless Us Every One

ANOTHER one of my writing teachers, Sue Diaz, also got some good ink. This is from her pen, and really sums up what is important about Christmas, whether you are Christian or not:

A Christmas apart

A mother's story of a son away at war, the phone that may not ring, but the traditions intact

..... Thank you Sue (and Candace Toft too!) , for helping me become a "more powerful writer" can it have been over a year ago?? where does the time go?

One of my Writing Coaches...

My friend and writing coach Jill Badonsky got some good ink the other day in the San Diego Union Tribune.

Jill teaches classes every Third Thursday (say that ten times fast!) I consider her "classes" to be less like school and more like recess. There is a lot of writing, some Read, but no Critique. It's all about fun. We hang out for a couple of hours and play with words.

Note, however, we have a word POOL, not a word "pull" as the above article references. You know, like "pooling" our verbal resources. DOH!

Barbie: A Love Hate Relationship

I LOVED Barbie as a kid. Really Really. I would set up the most elaborate condos made of cardboard boxes. I even crocheted a bedspread for my Barbie. Correction, Barbies. I had tons of them: Barbie, Midge, Francie, Stacie....

I had one hand-me-down from my sister, an old straight-legged Barbie with blue eyeshadow and stiff blond hair. She looked old. I would name her something like Madge, or Louise and her role would be the mean step mother, or more often the mean lady who ran the boarding house where the other girls lived. My favorite was a Stacie doll, with beautiful long red hair in a pony tail that reached down to her waist. Another favorite was my traditional blond Barbie and a brunette who's hair was styled a la Marlo Thomas in "That Girl." Of course I only had one Ken doll. At some point, his arm came out of the socket, so he wore a rubber band "sling" the result of some exotic activity like skiing or mountain climbing. I had a Barbie convertible too.

I would play out intricate story lines that would make a screenwriter weep. OK, well, maybe a screenwriter for Made-For-TV mini series, as the story would go on for days. I hated having to put my Barbies away....

Then at some point I hated Barbie.... the idea of Barbie. The impossible ideal of Barbie. The skinny bitch Barbie. The skinny bitch with her perfectly pert boobs, and her teeny tiny waist. She even had perfect legs. If you consider thighs that are no wider than her arms perfect... Barbie wasn't knock kneed. Barbie didn't wear braces. Barbie didn't wear size 36" Levis. Barbie never had a pimple. Barbie had a perfect boyfriend (even if he always had to wear a sling).

But I never hated her enough to mutilate her!

I am nostalgic for for Barbie, for the love of Barbie. Or maybe its for the stories I created, I don't know. But a couple of years ago, some neighbor girls were selling some of their old toys to raise money for something. And there, in a bright orange felt suit, a Stacie doll with her lovely red ponytail. I bought her for a dollar, and she sits on my bookshelf. Right next to Janet Burroway's Writing Fiction

The War Effort

I don't know why I love these old vintage posters. They just crack me up. Everyone so happy to help out with the war effort....

On Giving

My boss Jim is so cool. And a really nice person... always positive and upbeat but not in an annoying overly perky yet fake kind of way. He told us the other day we are closing our office (Arc-Zone.com - gotta get the plug / link in) the week after Christmas and we all get the time off WITH pay, extra. How Cool Is That?

Anyway, he and his family (adorable 4-year-old Sienna and super nice wife Gina, who drop in every now and again with treats like Jamba Juice, and fun suprises) gave the gift of livestock this year.... through Heifer International. I just love this idea.

I wish I could Whistle a Polka

Old news, I know, but this story is so wonderful. You gotta love a world where a transvestite can make a living as a whistler.



ASSOCIATED PRESS. APRIL 8, 2005
AUSTRIA'S LAST PROFESSIONAL WHISTLER

"Jeanette Schmid, Austria's last professional whistler, who once shared a stage with Frank Sinatra, has died of the flu at 80, a newspaper reported March 10.

Ms. Schmid, better known as Baroness Lips von Lipstrill..... born as a man in what now is the Czech Republic"....MORE...

religion and god and stuff

I seem to be writing/thinking a lot about religious stuff of late. Maybe it began back in July when I met my mom's high school sweetheart... who asked if I went to church. Strange question that. I have never asked anyone that. It doesn't matter to me. I guess if pressed, I would say I believe in god, but not the kind the talk about in church. My god is more sort of the life force that binds us all together ("May the Force Be With You" always resonated with me.) I would include animals there too... not to mention ewoks. It's what is in us that is beyond the flesh and blood.

Then you have the Christians... they're everywhere, and they seem to be involved in scandals all over the place! Well, at least at the same rate as us non-bible thumpers. I really don't feel like going there now, though. Suffice it to say any time anyone tries to force anything down my throat I'm apt to reject it, and suspect their motives for being so adamant.

My mom believed in God. I think I forgot that about her...

And then I found the Church of the Flying Spaghetti Monster. I was so excited, I invited all my friends to join me.

Julie declined to join me, saying "Thank you, Jenn. But I have recently joined Our Lady of Fettuccini here in Alhambra and there are so many Olive Garden dinners coming up that I don't think I'll have time for your church." heathen.

Ralph said "If it ain't freshly made Angel Hair then I'm not going."

Yea, well, I guess they are both goin' to hell. Or McDonalds, I'm not sure, I'll have to check the tenets of my new faith, but no more pasta thumpin' for me!

Betrayed.

I almost hate to post this after yesterday's post about hippies and bible-thumpers... but this bit of news is so disturbing... Greed is gonna take this country down.

Rep. Cunningham Pleads Guilty to Bribery, Resigns
The veteran lawmaker admits receiving $2.4 million from military contractors and evading more than $1 million in taxes.

By Tony Perry, Times Staff Writer

SAN DIEGO — A tearful, trembling Rep. Randy "Duke" Cunningham (R-Rancho Santa Fe) resigned Monday after pleading guilty to receiving $2.4 million in bribes from military contractors and evading more than $1 million in taxes. MORE....

and in case you're not familiar with my representative.... here's a nice little story about him:


Fighter ace has not been strong on subtlety
By Dana Wilkie COPLEY NEWS SERVICE

***************************************************



I feel betrayed, and I didn't even vote for him... I imagine those folks who voted for him feel the same way I felt when I found out Clinton had sex in the Oval Office with an intern! disgusted. outraged. betrayed. That he would be so disrespectful of the office to which he was elected, and would trade in the respect of his constituency for [ ] a piece of ass or [ ] a mansion and a Rolls Royce ... not sure which is worse.

What Cunningham will forfeit with his plea bargain deal: More than $1.8 million in cash, his interest in his Rancho Santa Fe home and more than a dozen antiques, pieces of furniture and rugs.

Don't feel too sorry for the tearful trembling old guy though. His retirement salary from the Navy --probably about 5K a month-- will do him just fine. Not to mention some sort of pension from Congress.

and Word UP Dems... let he who is without sin cast the first stone and all that... you need to stop the finger pointing and start coming up with a VISION. Folks want to be FOR something, not just against the other guy.

What the World Needs Now...

Is more people to take the time to get to know other people, people that are different than they are.... the world really would be a better place. We are really not that different when you get right down to it, whether you're a bible-loving Christian from Texas or a pot-smoking hippie from the Rainbow family. We all want a nice environment, we want everyone to have enough to eat, to be healthy... we believe in some kind of higher power, god, allah, yaweh, whatever...

This story pretty much exemplifies what can happen when we let go our predjudices and learn to fly together:

A Gospel and Granola Bond
Two radically different sets of volunteers arrived in post-Katrina Mississippi to feed the hungry, and their lives were changed forever.By Elizabeth Mehren, Times Staff Writer

WAVELAND, Miss. — Days after Hurricane Katrina hit, they began cooking together in a grocery store parking lot: evangelical Christians from Texas and Rainbow Family flower children from all over.... MORE...

The Real America...

Too bad we can't re-elect Jimmy Carter

"This isn't the real America" by Jimmy Carter

IN RECENT YEARS, I have become increasingly concerned by a host of radical government policies that now threaten many basic principles espoused by all previous administrations, Democratic and Republican.

These include the rudimentary American commitment to peace, economic and social justice, civil liberties, our environment and human rights.

Also endangered are our historic commitments to providing citizens with truthful information, treating dissenting voices and beliefs with respect, state and local autonomy and fiscal responsibility.... MORE...

http://www.latimes.com/news/opinion/commentary/la-oe-carter14nov14,0,7164514.story

Anne Rice Born Again

Eeegads. Can it be true?

Congratulations Debby!

My sister just (well last week) completed her initial training to become a Gyrotonics instructor.

If you don't know what that is, you're not alone...

If you are curious, check out the gyrotonics website.

Yeah! Debby!!

Finally!

Julie and Mirna and Susann and me at
The Del Mar Fair...  "they" changed the name to the San Diego Fair,but to me, it will always be the Del Mar Fair.






Tongues.




Suprise!





Scarry...

What I Did On My Summer Vacation

Taos.
I was going to do this: http://www.thewritingsalon.net/home-taos.html but a friend, who had gone in 2004 said something along the lines of "DON'T GO!" and when I said, "but I thought you loved Taos," she replied, "Taos yes. The workshop, no." I was so close to putting my money down, and had started to dream of Taos...

Thank god I had another friend who had gone to Taos the year before, but had gone to: http://www.unm.edu/~taosconf/index.htm
Michelle said this was the best conference, not too schmoozy, lots of great events, and of course, Taos. So I signed up for the Creative Non-Fiction workshop.

The Welcome Letter from the teacher scared me.

He assigned three books:

The Situation and the Story: The Art of Personal Narrative by Vivian Gornick;

I Could Tell You Stories: Sojourns in the Land of Memory by Patricia Hampl; and

This Boy's Life: A Memoir by Tobias Wolff .

I assigned myself one book: Mountain City by Gregory Martin

The teacher also requested we submit 10-25 pages of our manuscript via email a week before the workshop... Manuscript? What manuscript? I didn't know I was working on a manuscript!

Anyway, after several false starts, I managed to cobble something together, starting with a piece I wrote about banana bread... I titled it "Reconstructing My Mother" and sent it off. In return, I received via email the 10-25 pages of manuscripts from each of the other 12 workshop attendees... and an assignment to provide a written response, 1-2 pages typed for each. I planned to drive, figuring I would have time to wind down from my life, and get into a more meditative space mentally, so I had less than a week to do it in!

My instructor,Greg Martin, looks like a sweet twenty something young boy, dark curly hair, dimples even for gods sake, but in reality he is a stern task master! and in his 30s. On our first evening, at the welcome dinner, he handed us each a packet 3 inches tall .... more reading material, earning our class quite a reputation around the Sagebrush Inn, our "campus" for the week.

Suffice it to say he is very smart, very driven and quite intense. Fortunately he is kind, and he is a good writer and a good teacher. He really knows his stuff. I learned a lot about the craft of writing, and where to go for more.

I did manage to see some of Taos, as I arrived early and had one complete day (Sunday) to tour: I wandered the plaza in the early morning, and went to the Pueblo, and then the Pow Wow.

Our schedule was full with not only homework and classes, but with other activities: author readings, panel discussions, open mic events and other such literary stimulation. It was great fun.

I was, however, very tired; the intense intellectual schedule, combined with the heat (90s) and the dry dry air, and high altitude have conspired against me. No headaches from the altitude though. (nearly 8000 feet!)

It turns out I picked a good conference ultimately. One of the 10 Best according to USA Today.
It was an awesome experience.

I shoulda been a detective

I'm getting pretty good at it. Finding things. Finding people.
...

I found my mom's high school sweetheart... in Corpus Christi Texas. That story is being written for my book-in-progress, "Reconstructing My Mother." Due out in stores... well, sometime after I finish writing it, and find a publisher, just a few details to work out!

I found my cousin Troy and through him, found my cousins Terri and Todd and Travis who apparently have this cool gaming business in Tallahassee.

I'm sad that I lost my cousins in the first place. Not sure how it happened. They used to live down the street from us. Then they moved to Saudi Arabia, contact got sporadic as we all moved to different cities, states, countries. Things got weird after Papasan died... we all went our seperate ways and had our lives.... then Tia died... and now I find out Uncle George died too. Seems strange that we were so close at one point, and to not even know the fundamental details. It's sad. I want to stop that. I don't have much family left, and lord knows my family doesn't seem to have the longevity gene firmly in place.

Friends come and go... but family is at least supposed to stay on the Christmas card list, even if you don't send Christmas Cards.

My Mid Year Resolution: SEND CHRISTMAS CARDS THIS YEAR! Lord knows I've bought enough of them!

Reconstructing My Mother

I'm working on this project, to reconstruct my mother's life... it is very daunting, overwhelming, interesting, exciting, frustrating and fun. And it makes me cry sometimes.

I've been searching through the one high school yearbook that survived family moves across country (hers and ours) and deaths (hers, her mother's, father's, sister's) There is no family home to go back to. No family to go back to. They are all gone.

The items left are in a box that mostly lives in my garage, but has been visiting the living room floor where I periodically sit and open it, pulling things out to examine them. Its funny what's left of her life. Of course there is my sister and me, and her jewelry, and the tutu doll from Hawaii that we made together, some mementos from her travels in Europe... and of course our family photos and memories. But the questions that tickles my brain, who was she. As a person.

Maybe I'll never know, but I've begun the journey to discover not only her past, but maybe mine as well....

Wikitorial

Crazy. I don't get the purpose of this, except that it makes for an interesting wordplay...

From the June 12. 2005. LA Times:

“Watch next week for the introduction of "wikitorials" — an online feature that will empower you to rewrite Los Angeles Times editorials.”
...full notice here

Wikitorials?

To change an "editorial" which is (according to Wikipedia) a statement by a news organization, expressing opinion ...bla bla bla...
How can another one person change another person's editorial? That is in essence changing what is being expressed as their opinion. I don't get it.
Couldn't folks just write in and express their own opinion, and not change someone else's. Oh wait, those are called Letters To The Editor!

Balance

Merriam Webster Online has as the last definition for balance "mental and emotional steadiness"

There's nothing about balancing work and the rest of life. Not that I expected some sort of How-To, or that I really have much to complain about, but given that balance, or the lack thereof, is such a problem in our society, you'd think the dictionary would reflect that.

I know I have it easy. All I have to do is work from nine to five. You'd think I could find time for fun stuff like like blogging. Or working on my own writing. I don't have kids to take care of, or a husband to consider, and yet I still struggle with finding the time and space, mental space, to work on personal endeavors even when I know they are good for my soul.

So, instead of working on my personal projects, my brain is filled with words for things like Titanium Welding, or EZ Wipes, or grinding tungsten. What's up with that?