9 9 7
23rd d e c e m b e r
22nd d e c e m b e r
the hubub has begun. christmas has an altogether quite a new meaning
for us this year. my seventh and last voyage of 1997 will begin tomororw.
have i mentioned the voyages? the pieces may be hard to fit together in
any logical way, but they are there and they are real.
how can i be sure that everything needing saying is said? i cannot.
but as much as things are ending they begin anew. we all know that this
is the nature of things.
well i'd stay here but i must move so that i can sit somewhere else.
"OFFICIAL BILLINGS SONG"
please never forget the deep feeling you have when you hear this song
and remember the love you felt then...
"It was us baby way before them and we're still together
and i meant, every word i said when i said that i loved you
i meant that i loved you forever" (REO speedwagon)
written jan.1982, last year of HS.
... i didn't have to write it down.
later in the evening...
i grab my messy locks and wrap
the pink fuzzy thing around them behind me.
looking up into the mirror, i peak from under the strands hanging in my eyes
and i see some nice, smiling blue eyes. loreena chants from the other room,
and that sense of peace he was referring to comes over me. time, place,
what does it matter if your essence is true?
ah to always have this.
i bow my head and think about
the day's events. i suppose i spend alot of time
thinking. why does prescribed 'laudable moral practice' have to disclude shopping?
and work? socially acceptable, it's OK? All linked in to our set of common beliefs.
shopping is evil, waste not want not, selfish hedonism, praise of objects, give to those
less fortunate, simplify your life, money is the root of all evil, what's the didilio?
let's say our sorry souls are already pathetic. let's say this human embodiment is
self serving to begin with. let's explain away what we need to. lets top off our Royal
intricate Freudian analysis with delusions of grandeur and wash it down with some
social theory explaining the effects of champagne on sexual behavior.
ah, just let me out.
you know, i've got to look at things from all angles. that makes doing them,
the long way around. remembering words succintly when they affect me emotionally;
turning people into complicated calculus, and always, always, wanting more.
excited about nothing,
ain't that the best though?
21st d e c e m b e r
he thinks of me as time draws
we raise our hands in cup of cheer
the passion finds it's time to pray
love taken, given, every day.
rejoice in joy, repent in hate
and gather those who fear
they know of things we could not know
and raise a voice silent to hear
a private time aboard this ship
moments move the lonely
lust spares us all
we hold the held and hope they heal
we save ourselves
to break the fall.
20th d e c e m b e r
ahah! playing again, huh?
peaceful, old-fashioned saturday
morning. mr. jazz radio and mrs. blueberry pancakes.
sunshine, road trip, christmas, and california.
being 'on vacation' in the snow, what a novelty.
planning the getaway in traffic, packing early.
bellys full, day begun, songs to sing and goosebumps.
thanks God for that.
19th d e c e m b e r
le dix-neuf decembre.
"when you come back around
after painting the town;
you see i'm almost over you"
today is going to be sad lyrics
day. i hope you know the melody to these because if you are over
a certain age, they will cause a small tear in your heart which somehow makes one feel alive.
i always thought i'd never been heartbroken but if that is true then why do i understand it,
i wonder what increased empathy is/has caused/prevented me from?
i suppose it's caused more than prevented.
more shooting in this place-when
is someone going to do something about it?
or, perhaps in all the richness, they need something to fear? the lack of true basic humanity
is apalling, unbelievable at least. needing entertainment while eating, even, is the most abhorant.
i can't explain why, it just is.
maintenant, le francais retrouve son allure "Francais" , que je n'ai jamais connu?
i suppose a bit of french in the sad lyrics day is fitting, n'est ce pas?
warmer now, the fan helps. the kitchen
counter is back, and i believe we survived yet another
week. the bee-time approaches quickly. i am not happy for it, i am afraid.
oops. getting late.
i just need something more entertaining these days.
oh well, life will have to do.
"as long as the stars shine
down from the heavens,
as long as the river runs to the sea;
I'll never get over you
gettin' over me"
i'm singin now,
to j, if you can hear me.
they really are robots.
minx \'minks\ n: a pert girl
pert \ adj 1: saucily free and forward : impudent 2: stylishly trim: jaunty 3: lively
18th d e c e m b e r
topsey turvey time, with life things so unsure- all the people who you
used to know are somewhere over there and you are dreaming of an egyptian
dance wearing sparkling dancing shoes.
half of you wants to quit it all and eat coconuts under a coconut tree the other half wants to sail around the world in 80 days, then come back and become the president, and the last half wants to be a missionary in a far off land. this was so easy you say, easy? not exactly. but those sparkling deep turquoise dancing shoes were so beautiful...
you reach out in email make connections for a moment
and are still left sitting by yourself staring at a monitor inside a vibrating room with a tilted roof. you know we all just want somewhere where it's warm and everyone loves us. people's lives slide by each other tangentially ...they eat candy for breakfast and have delusions of grandeur and you don't know whether to pity them or what. how can i be sitting here bored, when there is so much that could be done. much love to give, much lives to save....do they want saving who knows.
thinking now of K and K and the music that takes me to work. does that world still exist? did it ever? does it represent a feeling that could only exist while looking into the past? is this supposed to comfort me? i know it couldn't exist again but knowing it did hurts. i think about it only long enough to remember it.
i used to spend a lot of time thinking about those times, all those times that i cannot go back to. another growing up lesson but a better one than others have to learn.
like i said still sitting here with a sore butt. kind of one of the shoesa days, feeling so rich i'm sickened by it. feeling paranoid and powerful at the same time. should stop complaining and do something. am i lazy? extremes extremes extremes can get you no where and you don't understand why...
yeah yeah, want it, got it, want more. moody moody moody me.
and everyone wants a piece and they don't. giving too much can be disappointing. what is the ultimate in giving and how do we know when someone else has given it to us? where's the earth-shattering kaboom? there's supposed to be an earth-shattering kaboom
rubbing my softer face, i am still thankful.
17th d e c e m b e r
wow. reading back
i can smell the past.
what the hell were we thinking?
how on earth did i let him leave?
what on earth have we done?
what a messy page this is.
june was beautiful, when i had the passion to spare.
sitting on the floor, i remember
that room so clearly, so dearly.
the smell of 'old' and the chill from under.
i guess you may know it well.
gosh, holding these two ideas in my hands is a heavy task.
how can we actually be doing something and yet feel like we have
lost??? it's impossible. these are the hardest times.
sitting here 9 to 5 i bascially just get a sore ass.
writing ordinary stuff here makes me feel
and i don't consider myself ordinary. neither should you.
not because i'm not, but why should i?
no one is, and if you think you are
it's only because someone has told you that.
give it a try, think of yourself as out-of-the ordinary.
kind of gives one motivation i think.
so let's all write some out-of-the ordinary stuff.
get around to it people. write that card!
it'll end up in someone's hand. 3,000 miles away.
it'll make someone smile, really it will.
think of it as adding positive energy to the planet,
isn't that powerful?
they'll pin it on a board in a cafeteria.
not that i do everything i set out to.
i've a disconnected CD drive.
i don't phone too much.
i don't jog.
the point is, you get out of
it what you put in.
cliche after cliche, we re-learn.
i'm not saying anything new.
i haven't reinvented anything.
everything i say has been said before-
just in the same way that trees have been climbed,
seas have been sailed,
and ginger cookies baked.
no i have not said anything new,
but i have said it.
have we adapted? how can we adapt while we are busy learning?
are we playing nice with the other kids? i think so.
do we like it? what's to like?
do we miss snow? unlikely.
the bees come. the bees go.
these little boxes appeared. symbols,
lined up in a row.
she made another sale yesterday.
i'm starting to think maybe she gives them away.
he works two jobs.
he pays the rent.
it's about exchange, i give something to you,
and i get something.
i guess it's still a sagitarrius kind of day.
16th d e c e m b e r
i guess it's a sagitarrius kind of day.
work-related events with non-work related events,
and eats and sleeps around them.
a few tough days pre- and post this one,
just feeling up in the air; needing to be busier.
i've no christmas baking to do.
the lights are strung.
no snow to shovel and no parties to plan.
leaving only the gifts to buy-makes everything
seem so very plastic.
relishing in the joys of the little ones,
i must make their excitement mine.
well the male man monster (mmm) as he has named himself is pleading me to be quick here (what? no peace) but what about all the stuff i wanted to write about music and newyorkers and neighbors and wallace and gromit ? ? ?
15th d e c e m b e r
the sugar and
coffee are still sitting in the black containers. i know them.
how much constancy do i need, anyway? the sweet taste of fresh java on my
lips. the lights down the hall blinking in turn, our tribute to a lonely season, for some.
and we? filtering through laundry, paperwork, traffic, shoppers, toys, and dreams of
old cars, another weekend has ended.
and today? wondering what i need.
or shall i correct and say, what i don't need.
that is easier. yes, yes, things are well. but there is still something left for me to
put my finger on. all what is written below applies, and then some more. we have
seen the chosen ones shopping at saks fifth avenue, we have been the chosen ones.
more joy to give than to receive? hmmm...
the hot stuff wakes me. what comforts
me today? does my guilt shine through?
i just can't decide where pride and selfish should meet.
little chills now, some life returns
to my fingers and soul too. remembering the love,
the devotion that we share. it is the sharing that is the miracle.
14th d e c e m b e r
happy #65 to papa!
always my papa, and without time.
love, from your 'lost angel'
12th d e c e m b e r
you get to the point where you
are looking for more.
you <need> to be connected, updated, stimulated, all the time,
and to greater and greater degrees. books are not enough,
newspapers have long since been discarded.
even the online information doesn't come at you fast enough.
so you create your own.
a place where you feel attached-an umbilical cord of sorts.
ow. my head hurts. ow. i am itchy.
i hope it goes away.
the coffee should help, at least i hope it does.
look, have a nice day ok?
10th d e c e m b e r
chilly morning as i think about
the events leading me here. a sense of positiveness
has stuck with me lately, and for that i am greatful. there is probably a pattern, but
who is that interested? even i found fascinating people, funny people, intelligent
people, whom i now only read on occasion. it is not a novel, it is not a feature flim.
and even if it were, they end after a matter of hours. but we keep on, all of us.
if for no other reason, when
i sit here i get to think of certain people. kind of like
a shrine, i wonder what they are doing, how they feel. i think about myself and
how i interact with the world, in my little private space here as well as out
there. it's not about being someone different, or someone you're not,
it's just about using that little tiny, unobtrusive chisel,
to be who you are.
9th d e c e m b e r
"Now, we take
our time so 'non chalant'
and spend our nites so 'bon vivant'
we spend our days, in silken robes
the money comes, the money goes
We know it's all a passing phase
We light our lamps
and hang our hopes on chandeliers
We're going wrong; we're gaining weight
We're sleeping long and far too late
and so it's time to change our ways,
but I've loved these days
Now as we indulge
in things refined
WE hide our hearts from harder times
A string of pearls, a foreign car
but we can only go so far
on caviar and cabernet
We drown our doubts
in dry champagne
And soothe our soul with fine cocaine
I don't know why I even care
We'll get so high and get nowhere
We'll have to change our daily ways
but I've loved these days.
So before we end and
We'll drink a toast to how it's been
A few more hours to be complete
A few more nights on satin sheets
A few more times that I can say
I've loved these Days"
she made two sales today,
as i waited to turn. i wonder about her voice, as i watch her display
her wares. i wondered what that money might be spent on. wondered how she decides when to
stand there, what she does during the rest of the day. i was happy with her, as business boomed.
enterprising, moreso than many. she has a sweet face.
8 d e c e m b e r
Ramona, a part-Indian
orphan reared to think of herself as spanish,
falls in love with and marries the Indian Alessandro. Forced to fight Yankees for his place in the sun,
he dies at the hands of the villainous Jim Farrar. Although the people and events in Ramona are fictional,
they were based on actual people and places, including Rancho Camulos in the Santa Clara Valley.
The name Ramona became attached to street signs, motels, food stands, movies,
song sheets, trourist traps, and several town halls throughout the region."
-from Los Angeles, A to Z, Pitt and Pitt, 1997 p419.
seasons means little
in a place where flowers bloom in february.
time melds from one event to the next, and i wonder when it will
cease feeling like summer around here. it's a bizarre standing still.
and me, half infused. another
weekend over, it began on thursday so i really cannot complain.
visitors appearing from the past, and some good old-fashion fun. 'holiday' parties and holiday
shopping. amazing the things you will learn. another fence item for me; half in the 'love giving' camp,
and half in the 'sickened by commercialism' camp. how to decide? however, being far away makes them
feel closer owning gifts with their names on them.
it does rain in southern california, by the way.
six degrees of separation and La Brea tar pits]
reminding me to thank J-Nette for mentioning me,
7 d e c e m b e r
i am realizing that life
stuffs can either mean something or they cannot.
i've decided, as i used to not have to; that they are meaningful. i'm not
only attending another 'boring' christmas party - i'm not only buying more
christmas presents, supporting more software, throwing some lights on
the balcony. these events are meaningful to me. i care. i treat them with
respect, with grace and dignity. i give each of them, as all other repetative
life events, weight. i am not going through the motions, i am not flying
through this life. it may very well speed up as i go, but this does not
mean that each item deserves less attention.
as you can see, i dislike
no, my life is not perfect; no, i would not prescribe my antics
to everyone. there is a reason for everything, and as i never
wanted to believe, i think i am coming closer and closer to believing in fate.
the ones who are most adamantly against
something are the ones who eventually - as difficult as it may be to admit,
end up being forced to accept their own beliefs to the contrary.
why was i so much against fate? wanting to believe that my accomplishments
were mine alone? and now, we get older and realize that not all of our accomplishments
are so awe-inspiring.... .... .... .... .... we turn to fate. is that it?
6 d e c e m b e r
it was a dark and stormy
night. but the main street cafe was bustling this morning.
perhaps they couldn't sleep, either, and seeking refuge, huddled in that place.
at relative peace now, as
long as i don't think too much about any one thing,
my happiness level stabilizes. the satsifaction i require from work is subconsciously enough.
4 d e c e m b e r
gggjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjthis is no time for change...................
or is it.
who would know? is life such a free-form, why would it not be?
take your anti free form
lives put them where you watnt them to be
orgnaize everything as prescribed and take a ride along the side.
3 d e c e m b e r
a nephew turning teenager;
3000 miles away.
ramona says good morning! corrected documents to germany-
scanned birthday cards up north, invitations to christenings, registry modifications,
and finally! a real meeting.
the jazzy station, not cbc but not bad, either. guranteed some kind of listenable music.
this is important, despite the large cd collection. bananas at 6am and the java has arrived.
hot this morning, hotter than the others, the great luxury of being able to sip it slowly, wonderful.
i did dream of dogs, last night. and other things. choosing a spokesperson from the old group- i watched
as they contemplated just about everyone in the room but me. the show went on, but i did make an enemy
of myself early on. they knew i was only playing for my own benefit-i think, knew i could see through
their sham. maybe i decided for myself to opt out of alot of it, but whatever the case, i didn't
quite have the guts to speak up, even though secretly, i felt that i should have
been the one. just couldn't give them that satisfaction. and the dogs?
the dogs were just poopin'! know why?
cause everyone poops!
so, tickets and a
free hat, drinkin' boxes, and a bit more
peace than last week. shifting into a lower gear; or shall i say different type of gear,
which so far has served me quite well. discussions about creativity and some yummy crunchies
dipped in teriyaki sauce. this is the synopsis. now i am fully awake and leaning over to glimpse at the
video machine clock every too often. knowing perfectly well that if i move myself from here NOW that i may
actually arrive at work nearer the scheduled time, but also knowing that my life, my creativity, my sense of
peace is worth more to me than what moving now will bring me. doing things for myself. knowing that i
am capable of maintaining respect and doing a good job regardless of what the punch clock people
think. let them think it, punch away their lives. that little 'know i shouldn't have written that smile
creaps across my face. we all learn our lessons one way or another.
2 d e c e m b e r
men will tell men
things because they can attach properties to those things.
properties such as 'i say so' or 'because i'm bigger than you' or because
'i know more about it than you do'. they have learned that those
properties don't work on most women, so they don't bother.
of course, it may just be me.
really part of the rat
race now, watch me run. oh yes, we're trying to avoid it.
it just keeps catching up to us. sure. got the heavy sighs from the early wake
and if we think my brain is going to work even for a second then we're all in
lala land. yes it is a tossup, between being judgmental and seeing things for
how they really are. isn't it always, though? like the song says, 'i'm a bitch'
and lots of other things too. everyone is someone, and someone else.
everything is something, and something else too. one day it's this,
the next it's that, and who the heck ever knows what it really is?
but it sure is nice to make a decision every once in a while.
and? the rest of us?
who gets to judge us? if no one
is staring at me with a magnifying glass, or at least
tells me they are, then who be our judge? who
say i cannot walk here, if they have not?
who say i should not talk here,
if they can not? who
1 d e c e m b e r
is my december, happy one to you.
i sit with fingers chilled; and wonder what to do.
the time has come to shower, there's nothing more i hate
the dark is ever cozy, but it's 7:58!
i stretch i wake december morn
1) around the corner
from famous Olvera Street?
2) san fransico: the great highway
3) london moo: postcard from bob
4) hiking cacti in the santa monicas
poot's place blue threads the Garden the Potter meaningless