welcome to the danger zone

Posts tagged “thingsIlove

Aside

Mission Gyro: FAILED (or What Maps Are For)

I wanted a gyro for dinner. I was headed to Nesquehoning where there exists an alleged Arby’s that serves this coveted treat. Yes, I know it’s not a “real” gyro. But it’s tasty. And what I wanted. And I was hungry. It’s not really alleged. I’ve been there. And had said gyro. This time however, I was trying to find it from a completely different direction. Yes, I had my cell phone and I could have mapped that shit, but where’s the fun in that? I was going to guess where it was. Bam. Gyro is minutes away.

I know the road where the Arby’s is. I just need to find it. I’ve gone there on a back road before, and though it was in the middle of the night, and few lights or roadmarks were to be seen, (and it was two years ago) I believe I’ve retained enough details to easily locate my dinner with minimal difficulty. Of course I can. Toss in the added factor that I am on a long-acting narcotic, I’m tired and according to my treatment coordinator, it probably isn’t my best decision to be driving, I will still continue on this fool’s journey. I make the first turn of my adventure. Crossroad? Left, right, forward. Um. Left.

Here’s where I tell you that my sense of direction sucks. Which is why I also have a compass app on my phone as well as the maps app. Am I using either of these? No. That would only make sense. And there’s no need for sense on this road trip. I decide at the next intersection that a left turn is in order, because another left turn is probably required at some point, so let’s just go for it. It only takes a few miles on the road to realize I am driving in a direction that is probably directly opposite of where I would find Arby’s because I am on the side of a mountain. I know this is definitely where Arby’s is not. I suppose I could turn around, but I know I’m not going to. Because becoming lost in my attempt to find my way to dinner has just become the allegory of my life.

I can see how this has caught your attention. I will explain. I realize as I am driving along, that the scenery is gorgeous. I know I’m not headed in the right direction. I know what I should do is turn around and find my way back to what I know, but I’m not going to. I’m going to keep driving and see where I end up. The gorgeous autumn colors of the mountains have caught my attention. I’m not paying as close attention to the road as I probably should be because I am looking around. I’m pretty much alone on this road anyway. I spy a lake. I decide to tuck this nugget of knowledge into my “check that shit out another day” file, even though every fiber of my being wants to go see it now. I remind myself I am on a mission, and I am already headed in the wrong direction. My curiosity is forcing me to explore this new road. Normal people would turn around. Normal people would look at a map. Normal people would have looked at the map first. I am not normal people.

This has been my life. I know where I need to go, most times, even how to get there, or how to figure out how to get there. Sometimes I am on the right road, and make a wrong turn, or sometimes I am on the right road and let something else distract me, or sometimes I make a wrong turn right at the start. And instead of turning around and correcting my course, I just plunge headlong forward. I justify it in my head as “learning experience” – sometimes I get so lost that I never get to where I started, but in that journey I get so many lessons and rewards, as well as setbacks and deadends, that even when I fail (IE: no gyro for dinner) it’s okay, I’ll just make do with something else (IE: sucky Turkey Hill mini pizza). This has been my whole life. But so far, instead of enjoying the ride, I’ve been cursing my stubbornness and cursing the fact that I didn’t turn around. I forget what beautiful (and dangerous) things I’ve seen along the way. I forget that the success was in continuing to go forward, despite the obvious signs that this was not how I was supposed to go, but going ahead without reservation. Not traveling recklessly, like crossing into clearly the wrong lane, but sometimes driving onto the shoulder and suffering some bumps until I get back on the road. Sometimes traveling too fast and hitting a pothole that jars me back to reality. Sometimes just losing track of time that I miss out on something else. My life is a series of wrong turns that start off as trips to other places. I sometimes get to where I was going, but even when I don’t, even when I break down along the way, it’s an adventure, and I see a lot of cool things, and sometimes I learn the hard way that some chances aren’t going to work out.

So what did I see on my trip today? Beautiful scenery, gorgeous houses tucked in the woods. Log cabin. An amazing line of gnarled trees to go back to photograph another day. A lake to investigate, a new alternate route to a destination. Knowledge that next time it’s a right turn or straight ahead instead of left and left. Knowledge that Turkey Hill pizza sucks and that I shouldn’t have an energy drink if I am already cranky. Sunbeams. And the knowledge that I just need to keep driving.

So this is the lesson grasshoppers. It’s okay to use a map. That’s what they are there for. However, when you choose not to, you also choose to accept whatever the road you follow brings you to. Good or bad. Yummy gyro or nasty pizza. You can go probably go back for gyro another day, but if not, you can still have other delicious treats. Unless you refuse to let go of your desire for the gyro. This is all very zen.

I leave you with a picture of how you can take something ugly, like the stubs of dead bushes, and turn them into something magical. Or you can leave them like ugly remnants of another life – the choice is yours. Every time I see them I think of the great imagination it took to transform those dead sticks into a roadside coal reef to make the day brighter for every person who takes the time to notice it.

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But wait, there’s more. There’s this tree.

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It’s at the top of a hill. A hill in the middle of a cemetery. You can see death all around it, or a magnificent tree at the top of a gorgeous hill on a sunny afternoon – which leads me to this parting thought…I saw a retirement/nursing home today adjacent to a cemetery. It made me think about the home’s residents – does it trouble them, this reminder that their time is now so limited or is it comforting to have the constant reminder that every day is precious and that the reality of death keeps them focused on the present. Just a thought.

No news from the Dr. BTW. Pain is still my constant traveling companion. Always screaming for attention in the background. Hopefully tomorrow brings answers. But for now, it’s carnage and death, SOA style, my guiltiest of guilty pleasures.

Be well pretty ones. If you’ve got gyros – eat them.

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Patience My Pretties, I’ll Be Back.

Never fear, I haven’t abandoned you. I have tales to tell – it’s just been a bit of celebration and whirlwind of things happening since the pufferfish was deflated again and I was enjoying the last six painless weeks, with nary the need for pain medication. That said, I’m a tad down at the moment, and needed to write the following, and though I thought I’d keep it private, hell, why not share, I mean, you’re already familiar with my former uterus.

Stay with me dear ones, I will be back to keep you spellbound with happier tales than what follows. But today, I am sad.

Joey,

I can’t remember the last time I wrote you one of these letters that I couldn’t send if I wanted to, but the sadness that lingers at the end of summer when the days are perfect but growing shorter reminds me of you. And it may be coincidence, but I keep seeing things that remind me you’re gone but still hanging around, if that makes any sense at all. I miss you. I miss having one person who knew the darkest side of me and one person who understood my innocent joy. I think of what it must have been like in the last moments you were here and if you knew you were about to leave or if you made that choice. Everything changed when you were gone.

It doesn’t seem like there’s a day here when I don’t think about you. And in my mind’s eye, we’re 20-somethings with not a care in the world, scheming, and whether we’d seen each other the day before or months apart, the world was ours when we were together. And in my mind’s eye, I remember every detail of the day it crashed around me.

I wish I could mail this letter to you like I did so many others – tear stained, or gleeful, excited, full of wonder, sharing every detail of my broken hearts and plans for the future – fat envelopes, stuffed and sticker-covered and keeping me connected to you despite thousands of mile and minutes. Stories of new adventures and days I wanted to close my eyes and have it all be over.

I know it’s a matter of time until we find our paths crossing again. I thought it could be in this lifetime, but probably the next. Just know I’ve never forgotten you my friend. And I am still mad you left me, but I understand that it was time for you to go. I just wish I could have one more hour to put my head on your shoulder and cry until you were covered in snot and slobber, and have you take the hurt away for little while. Fucker.

Me


50.5 Hours ‘Til Depufferization

I am so restless. Monday cannot come soon enough. I had to stop taking motrin last night because of its blood thinning properties, and I’m out of tylenol until later so I’ve been nibbling on percocet trying to make the pain go away. It’s not.

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In an effort to distract me from writhing about in bed, bemoaning my situation, I decided to give cleaning out my closet a go. I applied the fifteen minute rule, and actually was at it nearly an hour. I got rid of a lot of things I won’t/don’t want to wear again. There are still some things I can’t get go of including the very Victorian/gothic long black dress I bought trying to hang on to my goth past, and a crushed red velvet mini dress from the same desperate period when I dreamed of returning to my glorious youth. I tried – I event took the black dress of the hanger, but in the end, I clutched it my hands, as my opiate-sotted brain harkened back to the days of pale skin and clove cigarettes and dancing wildly to Echo and the Bunnymen, the Jesus and Mary Chain, and Love and Rockets. Sigh. I realistically know that the dresses will hang in homage to my youth, never to be worn again, the same way there’s a pair of size 5 shorts in a box somewhere from when my short-lived border-line skeletal hips slipped them on one summer day following my high school graduation. Strange the things we treasure. Now, I’m lucky if I could get them over my ankles.

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Even though the pain is still a constant ache despite the medication, the sedative effects are doing just fine. My eyes keep slipping closed and I should probably take a little nap because I’m going to head in to the den of babysnatchers to get a few more things done before I am off on Monday and Tuesday to have my procedure and biopsy done. They pushed the time back to 12:45p so a pathologist can be available when they retrieve the tiny chunks of flesh from SPFXL from snappy steel jaws that will be tearing them out of me. Of course, I don’t expect to have the pathology completed before I am released to go home, even though I secretly know they do because all they have to do is look at the sample and it’s either normal or it’s not. I don’t need to know how normal or abnormal the cells are, I just need to know one way or the other.

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Not that it really matters, because as I was driving back from Pittsburgh on Thursday night, I was on Interstate 99, and if you have never been on it, there are 11 miles of the most beautiful stretch of highway I have been on, outside of Hwy 1, aka the Pacific Coast Highway, in California. The sun had just about set, the hills were green and purple and some of PA’s tallest rounded mountains were rising above the fog that was settling into the valleys amongst the farms and random houses spotting the countryside. It was so magically beautiful, I kept waiting for it to end, and each curve of the highway just became more breathtaking than the previous one. At one point, when the sun had almost sunk below the horizon, there was this lone cow standing next to a barbed wire fence on a hill close to the highway, silhouetted black against a violet twilight and I could not even remember when I saw something so simply marvelous. If I wasn’t moving along at 80mph, I would have hit the brakes and captured it on film. Fortunately, I can still picture it in my head. And I realized, after travelling 500+ miles that day, in the car, alone with my thoughts and in silence most of the car ride, that there’s nothing to fear, no matter what happens next. In that moment, it didn’t matter if I was going to live or die, because everything is connected and timeless. Yes, I had brief reminder of nirvana, one of those glimpses of what being human is all about, and why nothing is ever lost, why we are here, and why it matters, and that whatever comes is just another lesson for me to learn. It’s all going to be okay, even if it seems like it’s not. And I’m okay with that. I forget how strong I really am, and how much I have gone through and how I am so grateful for everything I’ve endured because generally speaking, it has made me the pretty fucking awesome person I am. And even all the not so positive bits, the parts of me I don’t like, are just challenges yet to overcome. Including the SPFXL.

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So now that I have waxed philosophical for the day, I’m off to get ready to face the day and head into work to tackle a few things so I can come back after the probing and get back to the grind. Then it’s off to Presto’s 3rd Birthday Party. Have a great weekend, friends. And if I don’t check in before I’m rocking the CT scanner on Monday while I’m probed like an alien in a secret lab out at Area 51 in Arizona, send me some good vibes – especially that they have some good jello in the recovery area. Peace.


Black and Tan and Blue

I’m waiting for my laundry to get done so I can hang it up in order to be dry for the morning work. I suppose I should do this earlier in the evening, but I was unwinding from another troubling day of working for the man.

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As you may or may not know, I finally made it to the ocean. The Atlantic, not the Pacific, but the sound and smell of the sea took cleared away a lot of things that can only be washed away by something so vast and timeless as the ocean. I needed that. For those of you who have not seen both, I have to be honest when I say the ocean in northern California is a far more powerful force, even on calm days, than the Atlantic in New Jersey. Not to mention that the shell selection is somewhat better, and there’s more beach glass, and sea otters and sea lions, maybe an elephant seal. But still, the ocean soothes a lot in me. And made for a delightful Mother’s Day, even though it meant spending much more money than I intended to. I am somehow okay with that though, because every cent was worth hanging out with my son and laughing. It reminded me of when he was a little, and we would take road trips and adventures to see and do things we hadn’t done before. I miss that. And I miss the spontaneity – not many people I know are willing to do things at the drop of a hat, and thanks to my excellent child rearing skills, Andy has that inherent spontaneous streak. The beach trip came about at breakfast when I said, hey let’s go to the beach, and he said okay, but I need to go change first. And within an hour, we were on our way. It reminded me of when he was just a toddler and we would be leave the house to head to work/daycare and I would look at him, call “mental health day” and he and I would head to the ocean. Or the zoo. Or a park.

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And, as you may or may not know, during the beach trip, I learned some important information, which I believe should be shared. Large rocks at the beach are slippery if there is moss on them. Also, slippery without moss. Cement piers are also slippery, with or without moss. Women of my age should be careful on any of these things, lest they fall, as I did, and almost drown in the ocean/smash your camera/kill your ipod/get covered in blood, moss and sand. I also did some serious damage to my unscraped knee. It is getting better – but I keep thinking back to my fall, lying there like a giant beached pilot whale, flopping around as I tried to get up on the very slippery moss. Ah, a mother’s day to remember. My right leg looks like I was mauled by a demon too. Reminded me of the time I was going to showcase my mad skateboard skills for Andy and immediately had the deck shoot out from underneath me and I fell, slow-mo style, to the ground and smashed my head into the drive way. Days to remember.

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Well, I do believe the laundry is ready for my attention. Tomorrow, or today, depending what time you are reading this is “hug-it-out-hump-day” and I encourage you to drop your inhibitions, invade the personal space of friends and coworkers and hug the shit out of them. They might scream or tell you that it is unwelcome or unwarranted, but deep inside, they want them. Don’t let the mace or threats of legal action deter you.

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Good night my friends.

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btw, the title comes from the fact that I had Yuengling Black and Tan ice cream, and I was blue because it was all gone. sigh.

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This Space Intentionally Left Blank

 

So, there I was, prepared to lull you to sleep with my latest soul-searching foray and a treatise on forgiveness. And then I was about to dazzle you with my wit. However, my workday ended with negativity, so I feel it’s important to address that, so that my dreams are not a series of ways to work out my frustration (ie. murders). I won’t go into detail, but rather, share with you the wisdom that shook out of the no-good-very-bad-Tuesday-4:30-to-5:30 day (Read the book).

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If one wants to have people believe they are sane, they must attempt to act it.

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There are things you can tell everyone. There are things you can tell no one. Then there are things that you can tell everyone and yet no one will understand. Then there are things you can tell people OVER and OVER and OVER and they will never ever understand. All of this gives me a headache.

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Why do the trees in the valley areas get their leaves before the trees at the top of the mountain? Isn’t the top of the mountain closest to the sun? (It is unnecessary to explain why to me, I know the answer, it was just a rhetorical question)

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When you find a razor blade and want to put it somewhere safe, dropping it into a box of you craft tools will never be the safest place. Yes, you will find it, but it won’t ever be “safe” especially if you don’t remember it is in there. I should not be allowed to have razor blades in the first place. Or scissors, knives, needles, clippers, tacks, pins. Or matches.

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Sometimes you have to just say “fuck it” and pin pictures of cupcakes and furniture made out of popsicle sticks for hours on twitter.

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A salad will not make itself. And purchasing a pill box so you remember to take the pills you need to take daily is not effective if you fill it, put it in your bag, and then never take it out to take the pills. Pills will not take themselves. Despite what you “remember” from that one night back in ’99. (I have changed the name of the year, to protect the innocent, namely me)

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Cars should have lasers. So you can cut people in half. If it’s necessary.

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Peanut butter will be your best friend.

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It’s not important to know what kind of bug it is, just that it’s dead.

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You will always be thirstiest right when you sit down after forgetting to get that glass of water while you were up.

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One day you will suddenly realize that you know longer think that people are talking about you when you aren’t included in the conversation. You will feel wonderfully liberated. I mean, other people think that too, right? I can’t be the only one who thought that.

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Okay, that’s enough. Move along. Besos.

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the “a to “aw screw it already” challenge” aka I really should be doing work

I guess you expected another alphabet challenge entry. As predicted, I got to k, and have decided that for me, having to write with a prompt just is no bueno. I have too much going on in my head at any given moment to be limiting it to a single character to capture it all.

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Ironically, the next letter I would have written about was the letter L. Which is the type of work I am avoiding right now as I blog instead. Legal. I should be preparing my court questions for my hearing tomorrow. Or completing affidavits. I loaded up the flash drive on Friday to get this work done over the weekend. I was all about about doing work at home. I was….really. That said, because I knew I was going to do paperwork, I made a ham, cleaned my bedroom, organized my yarn. organized my art supplies, read some magazines, drank coffee, made a scrumptious salad with the ham, did laundry, napped, stacked books, watched tv shows I tivo’d, surfed the internet, pinned some shit, and made four hats. Procrastination 1000, Work 0. I will eventually get to the work stuff…probably at 11, and then I’ll get up at 5 am to do some more, because as my fellow baby snatchers know, the night before court is one restless night. No matter how solid your testimony is, no matter how much you have prepared, if you have to be at court, it’s usually because you are about to make one of the parties unhappy. And baby snatchers are disliked enough without having to deliberately make people more miserable. That’s not to say what I do isn’t necessary, and in the interest of keeping kids safe, but it’s never like anyone is all like…”hey, it’s CYS, hey how ya doing? Good to see you, I was just saying, I wish CYS would come by and visit, and uncomplicate my life” “oh we’re going to court? And you are going to testify against me and argue why my kids aren’t safe in my care? Well, come on in and let me bring you some cake!” So anyway, that’s why I will be up all night, tossing and turning – already I’ve got the burning knot in my stomach – and I actually enjoy testifying. I can only imagine what it is like for my co-workers who are uncomfortable with it. At least I now have a computer that has all the necessary keys present on the key board and isn’t possessed, throwing the cursor around wherever it wants and devouring whole manuscripts never to be recovered from the hell files again.

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Anyway, I was pretty fired up this morning when I realized that if I touched my computer I might be required to work, that I decided to wait a little and see if the passion subsided. As those of you who have delighted in my work for the last couple years know, I love to watch the Sunday morning political talk shows – specifically Meet the Press, and Face the Nation. If you have read this blog long enough, you will also know that I am a liberal of the worst kind…an uber bleeding heart socialist who believes that the wealth should shared in this country, guns are unnecessary, death penalty is inhumane, people come in all shades, sizes, languages, belief systems, gender identities (or not) and love who they love, kum-bi-yah (fill in the rest of the typical derogatory references to my political ideology here). I am also able to see past “belief systems” and see the person, which is why, despite my super left leanings, I also have a number of conservative friends who love me and I love as well. OH SHIT, I forgot to say I’m also a feminist with minor in women’s studies and a thesis on Feminism in the Colonial Period, which also makes me an intellectual elitist. For those of you still reading after this disclosure, I should also add I am fat and poor in material wealth, and also non-christian. Whew.

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So back to Meet the Press. The recording artist,Will.i.am, was on Meet The Press today. He’s a big supporter of the power of education to change lives. He has his own foundation. Of course all the political shows were heavy with people of color due to that nut job Sterling, but Will.i.am was not playing into it. He asked the politicians on Meet the Press, why does our country not care about making our children the smartest in the world and emphasizing things like project based learning. Then the politicos would open their mouths, and based on their political leanings, would blame the lack of funding for education by the Right or the stomping on State’s Rights by the Left. Of course, Obamacare is also to blame. And the Christian Coalition.

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Now, I suppose you’ve dozed off by now, but I will continue writing. Because here’s what I found fascinating. Will.i.am’s only question was why are we doing it, not who is to blame, and if we really want to foster American’s exceptionalism, why is it that we don’t capitalize on American creativity, and make it easier for our own citizens to get solid educations and hands on learning? He asked if we all believe in the same thing, then why don’t we do something to make it happen? And that’s when the light shone bright on how screwed up our nation is and why we border on the edge of the decline of Western Civilization. No one walks their talk. I find it hard to believe that every Republican politician believes in his or her heart that abortion is evil, we should let poor people starve, and that God should be forced into our education system. Nor do I believe that every Democrat believes that guns are the root of all evil, we should never say the word God in public and that socialism is the only answer. Yet, once we elect a “democrat” or a “republican” – they have to toe the party line and object to anything the other party asks for. No more acting for the good of the electorate. Make sure you don’t act outside your limitations. Don’t live your beliefs, adopt the beliefs of your party. And of course, it once again made me lose hope that anything will ever change, as the questions continued and each politician in turn, didn’t answer the question, but said why the other political party was foiling all of their ideas. And so another day, week, month, passes in America, and teachers are forced to teach kids to take tests, and try to squeeze actual learning and creativity in and around the indoctrination. Sigh. I did however, enjoy the jokes from the White House Correspondents Dinner, and yes, I am a science and political nerd. Add that to the list.

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I have so many more things that have been brewing in my brain to write about, and were stymied by following rules. Not that it wasn’t a good idea to start with, and I learned some new words, but 26 letters, that’s a lot for one month. While I have your attention however, or if you just skipped to the last paragraph to pretend like you read this, I encourage you to go to iTunes and download Ryan Young’s Anxious and Angry podcast. In episode 4, he interviews P22, the California mountain lion with mange from eating poisoned rats. I wish I would have emailed a question, to find out why they call him P22, and not ML22. Seriously though, its a great podcast, with very interesting discussions it’s swell being able to listen to Ryan talk with his guests and find that their lives are not entirely different from our own. It’s also quite effective in calming you down when you want to explode with rage at coworkers. Not that I ever would, but sometimes I am seething on the inside, and I wonder if they can hear my thoughts. Or if sometimes my thoughts are actually coming out of my mouth in a mumbly sort of way. So go download it. You can do it here. You should probably buy something on the website too. I mean, he went after a mountain lion with mange to try and reunite it with its family. That should make you buy a shirt. And be careful with the box, because there may be a note inside that you might almost recycle because when you tore the box open to get your shirt and flexi out, you weren’t paying attention. (Thanks for the note Ryan! – I will let you know if the flexi did its job in July – Harsh Realms is one of my favorite songs from Heart Burns btw) And there’s a link to the Anxious and Angry website on the right sidebar too. Just in case you forget to go here.

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Time to get my life together for work tomorrow…here’s a picture of the flexi and the awesome note I almost missed – I would have take a picture of the shirt too, but it’s currently in the spin part of the wash cycle…

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Oh, and before I forget, I believe the birds nesting outside my window must be eagles – they came swooping and screeching down this morning…definitely not sparrows.

 IMAG0092The almost lost note and the healing flexi disc

 IMAG0088ZOE_0006-004two of the 4 hats I made  – these went to a baby shower.


Kantikoy Komodo Dragons. Keraunoscopia. Kickie-wickie

Sentences using today’s vocabulary words.

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Last night was a great night for keraunoscopia.

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Some times listening to music make me kantikoy.

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Komodo dragons are really cool reptiles with supersharpteeth that tear things apart and have poison saliva.

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Is that really his kickie-wickie?

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Thus ends your vocabulary lesson for today. Write these words ten times each. There’s a test.

thsexy komodo dragon


Idioglossia. Idiocrassis. Idiomorphic.

There’s a Dr. Suess alphabet book that has a corresponding video. When Andy was a wee one, I’d plop him in his rocker chair and let the idiot box tend him while I snuck away for a cigarette. But I can still hear the video play in my head, big I, little I, what begins with i? as I sit down to do these entries. Clearly I am behind. I don’t even know what letter I am supposed to be on. I write them and then I save them, to post them at work before my day starts or on break or lunch or after work. Never on work time. Never. I would never misuse work resources inappropriately. Never. Anyway, this is why they appear in lots of three or more entries at one time. Sorry. But the fact that I have made it all the way to I is pretty impressive. And that I am still interested in writing more. That’s not to say that I won’t be glad to get through my alphabet, but I’m somewhat impressed with myself that I continue to indulge.

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So what begins with I?

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Introspection. Something I have been doing a lot lately. Impulsivity. Impetuousness. Like this past Sunday, I made the road trip to see my brother and his wife in Maryland, and every time I got near an interstate that I knew traveled from the east coast to the west, I just wanted to say fuck it, I’ve got my retirement money if I quit my job, I could live on that for a few months until I find a job. I can leave all this shit behind, hit the road, don’t look back and start somewhere fresh and new. Today. Well not exactly today, it would have to be Friday, when I got paid, because I would need gas money. Oh wait, not then either, because technically, the car is in Andy’s name. So that would be like theft. And that would lead to that other I word. Incarceration. I have spent enough time just visiting with clients at Schuylkill County Prison to know that I do not like that I word. Then there’s the other I word that rears its ugly head. Insurance. The health kind. Because I’m only coming up on two years cancer free, and I have three more to go, before I can comfortably say, let’s go, and get out of here, because I don’t need your stinking health insurance any more. This brings me to another I word…impatient. Because I don’t want to wait. So for now, I’m immobile. And looking inward, imagining what it will be like to return to my life on the opposite side of the country. And those are my I words.

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And since today’s letter is I, let us not neglect the other powerful word, intoxication. Which despite the pictures and multiple facebook posts that occurred on Saturday night, I truly was not. I was feeling quite pleasant, but hardly intoxicated. Not like some people who wore chicken suits or engaged in the very sad white boy dance party. A good time was had by all though. And a very necessary one.

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So enjoy this drunken chicken picture from Diane’s Adventures Below the Mason-Dixon Line:

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And some more I words: inferiae, ingluvies, innominate.

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Onto J. You’re gonna want to stick around for that…we’re talking justice.


glaumless. gormless gowk.

Clearly, I struggle with this idea of the alphabet. Or maybe my problem is counting. Or maybe in my alphabet there are two “f”s. Who knows, but now, we will move on to g. I apologize for either my inability to count to six, or my inability to recall that the seventh letter of the alphabet is g, please forgive me.

I can’t really think of a g topic. I mean there’s the mundane things I could write about: good, glee, Godzilla. Grunge.Gophers. None of those speak to me today. So I turn to my source of unusual words: The Phrontistery. Amazing lists of words that I can use in this challenge. Like today, when I cannot think of an appropriate topic. So we will gambol gadarenely into an examination of some g words that you would think mean one thing, but their definition is something entirely different. Unless of course, I become inspired by some other g topic in the midst of this post, which will result in me abandoning this plan, because I am a freaking gadfly.

Oops. It happened! God. I will write about God. Curiously enough, Microsoft auto capitalizes God when you type it. (it also auto-caps Microsoft, coincidence? Perhaps.) I promise not to rant too much on this topic, and I will provide some other g words at then end, okay?

So anyway, I haven’t been watching a lot of tv lately, except for three seasons of Game of Thrones, because I am a geek like that. But I did watch a Today Show interview of Bill O’Reilly who wrote some book about Jesus that he thinks should be used in schools to teach about the historical impact of Jesus in the formation of the United States. Now, I could be wrong (but I rarely am) but I do not believe that the native peoples practices Judeo-Christian religion. That was imposed upon them. And that the founders were not all Judeo Christians. I believe some were staunchly anti-theists. And while Judeo-Christian religious themes are prevalent in the development of declaration and constitution, I distinctly recall there being a very clear statement in the Bill of Rights that Congress shall make no law respecting an establishment of religion, or prohibiting the free exercise thereof. So why do nut jobs like Bill O’Reilly, who are supposedly knowledgeable about our government, get it so wrong? Yes. There are no doubt a lot of Christians in this country. I have no doubt that many of them are good people. But I don’t know that many of them understand their God. Because I’ve read the Bible. Not just parts. All of it. And the God Christians drag out to support the many things they find offensive or against their values would not be the same God that is in the bible I have. I don’t know where they get their dude, but the god I read about is loving, and accepting and inclusive. That’s why I like this pope Francis guy. He seems to get it. And is humble. And likes poor people.And walks his talk. If there’s been a pope in the last few centuries that is close to what Christians consider their representative of God on Earth, this guy is it.

I used to be Catholic. I was raised that way. I remember sitting on the steps to the second floor on a Sunday morning arguing with my mom about going to church. My position was, why do I have to go to a church that has so much gold and give it money when they could melt that gold and help a mom in Africa with twins feed them so she doesn’t have to choose one to die. The response was you will go to hell if you don’t go. I was willing to risk it. And now, I’m not Catholic any more. Oh I love ritual, don’t get me wrong, but I hated the thought of having to go and listen to someone tell me they needed my money to feed the hungry when African babies were dying and things were not exactly flush in our house either.

I don’t believe in God anymore. I believe in energy. I believe in positive and negative energy. I believe they have to be in balance. I believe we are all connected. I believe we all have an impact on each other, and I believe we are all responsible for each other. I believe we make choices every day, that can make life better or worse for ourselves and those around us. And the consequences or rewards for those choices are the outcomes of those choices. I also believe when we die, our energy doesn’t disappear, it just takes a new form. I believe those whose bodies expired are still with us, either in another body, or in energy around us. And I believe I am stuck in the situation I am in until I learn the lesson I need to learn. That’s my “God”. I suppose it would be easier to believe that someone else is orchestrating all of this for some ultimate purpose, but I would then have to believe they are a sadist. I prefer not to believe that someone/something would allow suffering, pain and sorrow for no other reason that because they want to punish millions of people for a bad choice made by some supposed first woman.

Gelastic – think it means gel? Elastic? Nope, means pertaining to laughter.

Gibbet – part of turkey or chicken? A bib? Nope, gallows.

Glossoid – glossy? Nope, like a tongue.

And that’s the letter g.


eudaemony, eutony echolalia, elbow macaroni and e.e. cummings

so I thought I would combine food for the ears and eyes (and soul) with food for the eating – I am sharing a favorite poet and a favorite (easy, cheap) recipe

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e. e. cummings is one of my favorite poets. I love his style because the words roll around on the page in chunks, and there’s no perfunctory punctuation to make you pause in wrong places. I think some people hate poetry because they’ve never read it aloud, or because someone who didn’t read it well, like a boring english teacher, made them listen. Some words must be heard aloud, read with intent and read well. Most people remember e.e. cummings because there’s always an obligatory poem or two in an anthology used in high school English or freshman english at college. Inevitably, the worst reader in the class is asked to read it aloud, and it loses the music it is meant to have. I find his work really evocative and visceral. I don’t typically like poems that rhyme, other than sonnets, and yet there’s something so rhythmic and lyrical in his work.

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I offer you one of his works you might not be familiar with. There are tons of e.e. cummings scholars, and people who will tell you what his works mean, and how to interpret them. I hate that. I think the best artist/writer/musician creates universals in their work, things that you and I can identify with and still be a million miles apart in our understanding. And then come back in ten, twenty years and find some new way to connect it to our experience. Enjoy (that’s an e word too)

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My Mind Is

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my mind is
a big hunk of irrevocable nothing which touch and
taste and smell and hearing and sight keep hitting and
chipping with sharp fatal tools
in an agony of sensual chisels i perform squirms of
chrome and execute strides of cobalt
nevertheless i
feel that i cleverly am being altered that i slightly am
becoming something a little different, in fact
myself
Hereupon helpless i utter lilac shrieks and scarlet
bellowings.

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And there you have it. If you want to explore more go here

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Now, let’s talk food. It’s the week before payday, and as often happens here at casa pietkiewicz, we are watching our dimes and eating on the cheap. One of the staples in our house is elbow macaroni, and one of my new favorite ways to make it is with curry…so without further ado, here is my fabulous curried elbows recipe

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1lb box of elbow macaroni

water

coconut oil

butter

sea salt

red pepper flakes

hot madras curry powder.

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Boil the macaroni. Cook until al dente. Drain. Put back in the pot. Using a tablespoon, scoop a chunk of coconut oil onto the macaroni and then add two-three tablespoons of butter (olive oil works too), salt, pepper flakes and curry powder to taste, mix it really well and serve. You can add some shredded jack cheese or a slice of white american cheese on top if you like, but it’s delicious without cheese too. If you expected measurements, sorry, I do everything by taste. But trust your judgment and I am sure you will be fine. If you don’t have coconut oil, use more butter or olive oil, but I really like the taste of the coconut oil. If you don’t use coconut oil, use less salt. And it has to be sea salt. So buy some. If you really want to splurge, throw in some cooked frozen peas. Or chickpeas. Or both.

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And this my friends, gets me caught up with my alphabet challenge. I hope you are enjoying the new vocabulary words I am sharing with you. So back to my Game of Thrones marathon, but I leave you with this, to end my escapade with the enigmatic letter e…

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dinoman_neotenyexobiology

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