May 31, 2002 at 8:01 pm
(meh)
Yet another hyper-intellectual exchange between The Lorax and inkGrrl:
inkGrrl: thanks to The Onion, we finally know the real source of all the tension in the Middle East
The Lorax: Maybe now they’ll find an opening for all those stiff proposals…
inkGrrl: ooh, squishy wrinkled sacks of goo flopping against each other in blind-eyed striving for enlightenment…
The Lorax: “Hook-Nosed Cave Fish: The Final Chapter” - coming to a Ramallah drive-in this summer…
inkGrrl: wonder if they’ll have to use anti-Semitic prophylactics? I smell gefilte!
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May 31, 2002 at 7:50 pm
(meh)
I can no longer go on without learning how to Dirty Dance. Thanks a lot, Amy Beth… you’ve ruined me for life! Or maybe I should blame that seanbaby whippersnapper. *mumph* Someone has to be responsible for the fact that I fell off my chair laughing and now my toe hurts and I can no longer waltz.
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May 31, 2002 at 10:24 am
(meh)
Just looking at the pictures of Taiwan’s Cloud Gate Dance Theatre’s latest production - Moon Water - makes me want to hop a flight to London and immerse myself in the theater scene there. Or take Tai Chi classes. Hmm… long flight with beautiful payoff, or daily health benefits for the rest of my life… well, I am instant-gratification girl.
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May 30, 2002 at 9:49 am
(meh)
I watched the World Trade Center memorial service this morning before coming to work, and through it all I kept flashing back to the GhostBuildings section of Lilek’s site. He put together a great collection of shots of buildings around NYC that still show the scars of their former neighbors - bricked-up fireplaces hanging in thin air, soot seemingly streaking out of nowhere and disappearing into nowhere a couple of stories up the side of an apartment complex, the shadow of a stairwell traced in zig-zags along the outside of an old hotel. I wonder what kind of ghosts will be left visible at Ground Zero after we rebuild. I remember walking across the World Trade Center Plaza years ago and stopping to stare at the bronze statues of office workers, waiting for them to move. After the Towers fell, the ash-covered statues that remained evoked the bodies at Pompeii - no longer frozen in a moment of life, but permanently stilled, as if life itself had been sucked from the bronze by the vacuum that flashed over the site when the Towers imploded. Same shape, different disaster.
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May 29, 2002 at 4:52 pm
(meh)
Since I was lost in a haze of post-birthday party stupidity and had nothing profound or memorable to say about Memorial Day this year, I’ve decided to piggyback onto Protein Wisdom’s beautiful offering and repost it here in belated tribute:
If you are able,
save for them a place
inside of you
and save one backward glance
when you are leaving
for the places they can
no longer go.
Be not ashamed to say
you love them,
though you may
or may not have always.
Take what they have left
and what they have taught you
with their dying
and keep it with your own.
And in that time
when men decide and feel safe
to call the war insane,
take one moment to embrace
those gentle heroes
you left behind.
– Major Michael Davis O’Donnell
1 January 1970
Dak To, Vietnam
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May 28, 2002 at 8:34 am
(meh)
I’m happy to say that I had a great birthday weekend! Not only was our Housewarming/Geminifest party a success with much food (burgers and babaganoush) and drink (Red Wing and tequila in various forms) and fun (silliness and South Park) had by all, but Sunday was perfect and peaceful. First we quested for my birthday present - Ali bought me a guitar with all the trimmings, then we ran all over town using the gift certificates that various folks got us as housewarming presents, then we had a great dinner at a little Italian place on Ventura Boulevard and rented a few movies to watch at home. I had originally had my heart set on seeing Attack of the Clones this weekend (dragging the hubby as part of my birthday indulgence) but so many people have been bad-mouthing it, in addition to spilling all the beans about what happens, that I kind of have a sour taste in my mouth now about paying to watch it on the big screen. Plus my feet hurt and the best theater around to see it at would have involved much walking (laziness is the curse of the lazy). Ah well. Monday was somewhat more somber, given the tone of the day - folks seem to be taking greater note of the intention of Memorial Day this year.
On another note, the Washington Post has this article about a company called Caedmon Records that records famous authors reading from their own work. Barbara Cohen Holdridge, a co-founder interviewed for the article, mentioned (among other things) a time that “she traveled to Washington to record poet Ezra Pound at St. Elizabeths Hospital, and he hurled a salami at her. Another time, ‘he stood in the garden reading Provencal poetry about birds. As he spoke all the birds began to sing. It was the most incredible thing.’” I love that image - Pound hurling a sausage. I’m sure it’s a condolence to the cow or pig that their sausage gave its life for art.
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May 24, 2002 at 1:06 pm
(meh)
Uck. I just experienced what has to take a top-level slot in the Journal of Regrettable Food Combinations: for lunch I had a diet chicken alfredo - the meat bits were fine, as were the noodles, but the sauce was a translucent, mucilegous goo that I just know was extracted from the left nostril of an irritated moose somewhere in Canada. To wash it down I made the unfortunate choice of pouring myself a styrofoam (boo, hiss) cup of office coffee that had already been in existance about three hours too long, and resembled nothing so much as the rusty leavings in the bottom of an ancient gas tank with an espresso bean waved over them at an altitude of about five miles for flavor. The two combined managed to prove that sometimes the whole is greater than the sum of its parts, at least when referring to the unholy synergy of certain sorts of food and drink. Uck. I need to go eat a Pop-Tart now.
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May 23, 2002 at 2:56 pm
(meh)
Newsflash: Boring, Passive Work May Hasten Death
Well, duh! I could’a told you that. My entire dayjob existance in 2001 probably took at least three years off my life, in a very passive (yet aggressive) fashion. My new boss asked me yesterday why I want to work here (as part of a conversation wherein I once AGAIN brought up the subject of when they’re gonna hire me - it’s a contract-to-perm thang) and all I could say was, “‘Cuz it’s wacky fun!”
It’s obvious that senescence has already set in.
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May 23, 2002 at 2:43 pm
(meh)
Thanks to Leather Egg for my blogging code: B6 d++ t k+ s+ u f i+ o+ x- e- l c+
Now that I’ve completed the self-definition phase of my young life, I can move on to being a capitalist pig.
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May 23, 2002 at 2:20 pm
(meh)
Time for some Meeting Haiku:
initiatives…
we pull them out of our ass
meeting-by-meeting
And now I’m off to eat a Strawberry Pop-Tart ;->
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