i'm thinking about my plant, dorcas. i'm thinking about whether or not she ever has a day that makes her anything other than green and sun-seeking. does she long to bitch-slap the cat when shiva chews on a leaf or two? or flip me the bird when i walk by and forget to check to see if she needs water? maybe i'm being told to fuck off, right now, as i type.
it's hard to say, really.
this morning started off with a bang. all kinds of fubars that stemmed from things i did that got worse because i had no idea of what impact said things would have. like the domino effect, but without knowing that the dominoes were all lined up. it's kind of like one of those fractions i used to despise: bull + china shop = kim + computer system/taxes. i often forget that things don't work the way i think they ought to work. and then i wave my white flag and get the heck out of dodge.
i'm kind of at the hide point in a long game of hide and seek. the seeking...well, that can wait until next week. right now it's duck and cover, and hope to hell that the shrapnel is just stuff i can brush off.
think office space, plus landmines. theoretical landmines. but landmines all the same.
i'm not a bomb sniffing pooch. i've got enough training to make me dangerous. and after nearly 3 years at the same company, i often feel as new and green as my possibly pissy houseplant.
Thursday, March 31, 2005
Wednesday, March 30, 2005
sticks and stones
when i was a kid, my dad used to try to bolster us when we got teased by doing that "sticks and stones" rhyme. i was never sure it did much until today at lunch, when someone at my lunch table mentioned that i seem to have a propensity for taking a lot of shit.
was it part of my upbringing, this acceptance of the crap life dishes? unquestioning i roll through time.
it's been a while since i blogged. quite a while. there's been vacation--which was spent at home, in fear of spreading and/or contracting the dreaded Crud that dan and eero had--and going to a wedding with nathan--which was SO much fun that i danced until my feet were too swollen to put back in my pointy toed shoes, and also at which i met a kindred spirit in the guise of a college friend's straight date, which is what i was as nathan's date...then there was a duran duran concert, lots of fun and thank you sara for inviting me, and a trip home over easter, which wasn't long because the night prior was spent up WAY too late gaming, and then i slept most of saturday before even dragging myself to check on my sister's cat and drive to st cloud.
when i arrived, mom and dad were sick. dad was insistent, despite mom's protests, that he drive down and pick up my grandma. i went out on saturday night with my sister--kind of a celebration of my bday and hers all at once--and played trivia and then bowled. yes, bowled. what a new and novel experience...and i did good! my high score was a 96, which is unheard of for a whalen child. my parents are excellent bowlers; we just apparently didn't ever excel in that area. but maybe with age... *sigh* sunday dad got grandma and david and beth and i took her to church, which was uneventful. then home, dinner, and a brief rest and then grandma was ready to go back to anoka. she seemed to know who i was for most of the drive but then when we got to her assisted living building couldn't remember where to go. found her room and as we're walking out, i comment on the shamrock shaped clock hanging next to her door.
kim: that's an interesting clock.
grandma w: my husband made that clock for me, years ago.
kim: he was a very creative man. (insert fond memories of grandpa w here)
grandma w: yes, he was very creative, but i had to have all the children.
oy.
last week was a rough week. got back from vacation to discover that barry, one of my coworkers, had decamped. then on monday heard about the shootings at red lake, which is about 20 miles north of bemidji. we had some panic as eero thought his cousin still taught there, and then couldn't get through to his parents, but it was abated when he found that she worked close but not there. still nothing short of awful. i just cannot get over the amount of violence that goes on in the world today. maybe i was just ignorant as a child? how blissful it must have been.
i'm reading a variety of books again, too. one romance novel, and then Under the Tuscan Sun by Frances Mayes, Damned if you Don't by Graham Houghton, and my old standby, Smilla's Sense of Snow by Peter Hoeg, which is right up there with being one of my all time favorite reads EVER. so far i'm liking the mayes book but the damned if you do book is interesting but not grabbing me quite yet. and i'm just not getting into the karen hawkins romance, either. so back to smilla. there's a line in there i love, about how adults assume that children are open like books, but in all reality they're the most secretive people on the planet. how true. i think about red lake, and how even the people who thought they knew this boy, how they really did not.
i think about myself as a child. what secrets did i keep, what things did i hold close? i don't remember, not any more. something that i've always carried are stones. every box i've ever opened from childhood has at least one rubbermaid container of rocks--agates, smooth black stones, rough sparkly granite. i always had rocks in my pocket, whatever i could find that looked interesting. in fact, i still have all kinds of rocks.
rocks remind me that life continues. that i don't have to give in. that i am of the earth, and that the earth is of me. whenever life gets really "bad" and i have to find some way to ground myself, i find a rock that's unweildy and really too big for my pocket, and i stick it in my pocket anyway. whenever i bump up against it, i'm reminded that i am such a small force in the world, and that this rock, this little and somewhat forgotten peice of earth, will continue long after i am ashes spread to wind.
kind of a meditation and reflection, for me.
all the things that have gone on in the time between this sentence and the last time i journaled, they're small things. insignificant, in the stream of time. the shooting--now that was a wake up call. but still just a larger rock in a larger river. connected to me but disconnected. i have not carried a rock in my pocket for a long time, perhaps over a month or probably more. i thought about that today at lunch, hearing the light in which others view me, the person who takes a lot of shit and just puts up with it. perhaps that's why i like my rocks--they're my metaphor for living, a little note from the universe about how insignificant i feel on the planet.
sticks and stones
may break my bones
but words
words save me
from the damnation
of silence
i write i speak i hum
to keep at bay
the dogs of war
the ravens that follow
pick my bones
to sticks
and stones.
was it part of my upbringing, this acceptance of the crap life dishes? unquestioning i roll through time.
it's been a while since i blogged. quite a while. there's been vacation--which was spent at home, in fear of spreading and/or contracting the dreaded Crud that dan and eero had--and going to a wedding with nathan--which was SO much fun that i danced until my feet were too swollen to put back in my pointy toed shoes, and also at which i met a kindred spirit in the guise of a college friend's straight date, which is what i was as nathan's date...then there was a duran duran concert, lots of fun and thank you sara for inviting me, and a trip home over easter, which wasn't long because the night prior was spent up WAY too late gaming, and then i slept most of saturday before even dragging myself to check on my sister's cat and drive to st cloud.
when i arrived, mom and dad were sick. dad was insistent, despite mom's protests, that he drive down and pick up my grandma. i went out on saturday night with my sister--kind of a celebration of my bday and hers all at once--and played trivia and then bowled. yes, bowled. what a new and novel experience...and i did good! my high score was a 96, which is unheard of for a whalen child. my parents are excellent bowlers; we just apparently didn't ever excel in that area. but maybe with age... *sigh* sunday dad got grandma and david and beth and i took her to church, which was uneventful. then home, dinner, and a brief rest and then grandma was ready to go back to anoka. she seemed to know who i was for most of the drive but then when we got to her assisted living building couldn't remember where to go. found her room and as we're walking out, i comment on the shamrock shaped clock hanging next to her door.
kim: that's an interesting clock.
grandma w: my husband made that clock for me, years ago.
kim: he was a very creative man. (insert fond memories of grandpa w here)
grandma w: yes, he was very creative, but i had to have all the children.
oy.
last week was a rough week. got back from vacation to discover that barry, one of my coworkers, had decamped. then on monday heard about the shootings at red lake, which is about 20 miles north of bemidji. we had some panic as eero thought his cousin still taught there, and then couldn't get through to his parents, but it was abated when he found that she worked close but not there. still nothing short of awful. i just cannot get over the amount of violence that goes on in the world today. maybe i was just ignorant as a child? how blissful it must have been.
i'm reading a variety of books again, too. one romance novel, and then Under the Tuscan Sun by Frances Mayes, Damned if you Don't by Graham Houghton, and my old standby, Smilla's Sense of Snow by Peter Hoeg, which is right up there with being one of my all time favorite reads EVER. so far i'm liking the mayes book but the damned if you do book is interesting but not grabbing me quite yet. and i'm just not getting into the karen hawkins romance, either. so back to smilla. there's a line in there i love, about how adults assume that children are open like books, but in all reality they're the most secretive people on the planet. how true. i think about red lake, and how even the people who thought they knew this boy, how they really did not.
i think about myself as a child. what secrets did i keep, what things did i hold close? i don't remember, not any more. something that i've always carried are stones. every box i've ever opened from childhood has at least one rubbermaid container of rocks--agates, smooth black stones, rough sparkly granite. i always had rocks in my pocket, whatever i could find that looked interesting. in fact, i still have all kinds of rocks.
rocks remind me that life continues. that i don't have to give in. that i am of the earth, and that the earth is of me. whenever life gets really "bad" and i have to find some way to ground myself, i find a rock that's unweildy and really too big for my pocket, and i stick it in my pocket anyway. whenever i bump up against it, i'm reminded that i am such a small force in the world, and that this rock, this little and somewhat forgotten peice of earth, will continue long after i am ashes spread to wind.
kind of a meditation and reflection, for me.
all the things that have gone on in the time between this sentence and the last time i journaled, they're small things. insignificant, in the stream of time. the shooting--now that was a wake up call. but still just a larger rock in a larger river. connected to me but disconnected. i have not carried a rock in my pocket for a long time, perhaps over a month or probably more. i thought about that today at lunch, hearing the light in which others view me, the person who takes a lot of shit and just puts up with it. perhaps that's why i like my rocks--they're my metaphor for living, a little note from the universe about how insignificant i feel on the planet.
sticks and stones
may break my bones
but words
words save me
from the damnation
of silence
i write i speak i hum
to keep at bay
the dogs of war
the ravens that follow
pick my bones
to sticks
and stones.
Tuesday, March 22, 2005
still at work...
i'm still at work right now. blech. just waiting for a bunch of things to finish printing, etc. if they EVER finish i'm driving up to the excel energy center to meet sara (!) who i haven't seen in FOREVER to go to the duran duran concert. however in typical kim fashion i'm terrified that i'm not going to make it on time. providing that everything comes up roses i'm outtie and can make it on time...
in the mean time, i'm going to blog for a minute. or two. however long until i get paperwork. :P i didn't get a break this afternoon so this is it. pooh.
these last few days have been loooooong. aside from the daily grind of being back at work after vacation and the time during the day being sucked out through my head, which feels petty in comparison with world events, last night we found out about the shootings in red lake, and had a moment of panic when eero thought that his cousin still worked at the red lake schools. found out later she'd subbed there previously, but as of late, she's been working at another district. thank god. i had a flashback to when debbie and steve were still living in new york--the morning of september 11th--hearing about what was going on via second hand reports and the radio. i remember saying to someone that i was lucky, i didn't know anyone out there--and then realized that i did, and that i needed to call home. mom was home; steve and debbie were fine. but that moment of unsettling panic was just enough to make me queasy.
there's so many things that i think about when i recall those events, or any that mirror that morning--the curl of fear in my belly, the prickly feeling on my scalp, the heat rising to my cheeks before i cry. i don't like those moments, but in them, you feel so alive, so aware, just before that fog sets in.
gah! paperwork! must run!
in the mean time, i'm going to blog for a minute. or two. however long until i get paperwork. :P i didn't get a break this afternoon so this is it. pooh.
these last few days have been loooooong. aside from the daily grind of being back at work after vacation and the time during the day being sucked out through my head, which feels petty in comparison with world events, last night we found out about the shootings in red lake, and had a moment of panic when eero thought that his cousin still worked at the red lake schools. found out later she'd subbed there previously, but as of late, she's been working at another district. thank god. i had a flashback to when debbie and steve were still living in new york--the morning of september 11th--hearing about what was going on via second hand reports and the radio. i remember saying to someone that i was lucky, i didn't know anyone out there--and then realized that i did, and that i needed to call home. mom was home; steve and debbie were fine. but that moment of unsettling panic was just enough to make me queasy.
there's so many things that i think about when i recall those events, or any that mirror that morning--the curl of fear in my belly, the prickly feeling on my scalp, the heat rising to my cheeks before i cry. i don't like those moments, but in them, you feel so alive, so aware, just before that fog sets in.
gah! paperwork! must run!
Saturday, March 19, 2005
things overheard
i think sometimes i am on constant alert, waiting to hear anything. i think that adds to my easy-to-scare factor, because i'm quite attuned to the world around me, and if something makes a noise, i'm jumpy.
so yesterday i'm out in the 40 acre park near our house. i'm happily tromping through the snow, slipping around on the layer of ice underneath, and cleaning my sunglasses off every few hundred yards or so because the snow is coming down so quickly. perfect hiking weather, at least for me. the whole time i'm hiking, i'm trying to block out the sounds of planes and cars--the low hum of mechanics whirring--and trying to focus on the small bird sounds and any rustles in the woods i might hear that signify a squirrel, or scarier, that coyote that scared me and serena a while back.
nothing. just the planes and automobiles. frustrating.
i focus on it anyway. hiking is like walking meditation for me, and having to focus is good.
about a quarter mile in, i start hearing this low thumping, grinding noise. sounds like bulldozers having sex--whump grrrrr, silence...whump grrrrr, silence...so on and so forth. i realize that the path i've chosen is bringing me closer to the pump station they're building on the edge of the park. yippee.
i had to admit defeat. it's difficult to focus on your inner peace of mind when all you can think is about two bulldozers poised in the act. i finished my walk and went home, a bit saddened by the fact that i didn't get out of it what i wanted to.
but then consider the area. i'm not walking in lake bemidji state park, or just down the road in bemidji; the habitats of beasties down here is different, including the human ones. i think it's the sounds and smells that get to me the most--i have a hard time accepting the gasoline perfume, or the sounds of the city, the pulse of activity that is based around electronics and engines.
with the one bum ear, i can't say that it's probably as loud for me, being as i live my life in a little bubble of random sounds as it is. but when i'm out in the woods, i have this preconceived notion that it's going to be quiet, and i don't have to block out what i don't want to hear, or listen hard for what i do want to hear: silence and the scurry of forest.
so yesterday i'm out in the 40 acre park near our house. i'm happily tromping through the snow, slipping around on the layer of ice underneath, and cleaning my sunglasses off every few hundred yards or so because the snow is coming down so quickly. perfect hiking weather, at least for me. the whole time i'm hiking, i'm trying to block out the sounds of planes and cars--the low hum of mechanics whirring--and trying to focus on the small bird sounds and any rustles in the woods i might hear that signify a squirrel, or scarier, that coyote that scared me and serena a while back.
nothing. just the planes and automobiles. frustrating.
i focus on it anyway. hiking is like walking meditation for me, and having to focus is good.
about a quarter mile in, i start hearing this low thumping, grinding noise. sounds like bulldozers having sex--whump grrrrr, silence...whump grrrrr, silence...so on and so forth. i realize that the path i've chosen is bringing me closer to the pump station they're building on the edge of the park. yippee.
i had to admit defeat. it's difficult to focus on your inner peace of mind when all you can think is about two bulldozers poised in the act. i finished my walk and went home, a bit saddened by the fact that i didn't get out of it what i wanted to.
but then consider the area. i'm not walking in lake bemidji state park, or just down the road in bemidji; the habitats of beasties down here is different, including the human ones. i think it's the sounds and smells that get to me the most--i have a hard time accepting the gasoline perfume, or the sounds of the city, the pulse of activity that is based around electronics and engines.
with the one bum ear, i can't say that it's probably as loud for me, being as i live my life in a little bubble of random sounds as it is. but when i'm out in the woods, i have this preconceived notion that it's going to be quiet, and i don't have to block out what i don't want to hear, or listen hard for what i do want to hear: silence and the scurry of forest.
Friday, March 18, 2005
usually
usually i look forward to fridays. i crave them. i wait and wait and wait for them to arrive, i mark the days on my calendar.
this week i've been dreading its arrival, because it means i've only got 3 days left before i have to return to work. i never did make my list of to do items this week--yesterday's grand plans fell by the wayside, as usual...i did have my hair trimmed but the girl didn't take enough off the bottom so consequently this morning the hair looks worse (yes, worse) than it did yesterday. i can see what she was going for, but she must be used to dealing with submissive hair, not this wild stand-up-to-the-world hair that i generate daily. so we'll see. it's better but it's worse. who knows.
tonight is also sg1 night, which is something i adore...but again, the adoration factor is marred by the fact that next week it's back to cubeland.
i think the universe, however, is trying to coax a smile out of me yet--it's snowing and windy out, which is just ever so lovely, and the forecast is for 6-10 inches. yippee!!! that inspires me to cook something stew related, bake some bread, and just generally curl up in the house after forging a path through the park. which is what i'm hoping to do yet this morning.
so last night, in lieu of braving the rest of humanity that was probably clogging kieran's and drowning out the gaels anyway, dan and i went over to our local bar and had a guiness and trounced the other folks there playing trivia. it was quite lovely, and the guiness was on tap, so it tasted much better than the tinny, canned flavor it usually has when poured (not surprisingly) from a can. came home, dan headed up to meet sean and craig, and burt and eero and i drove over to meet darin and cathy and chrissy and mikey at d fong's. which is always a good time, lots of laughter and the best service on the planet from julie, our fave waitress. (she's one of those waitresses who doesn't need to hear you say a word--just brings out your favorite soup, whatever you usually drink, and then scolds you if you order outside your normal area. the other amazing part about julie is that she remembers for-e-ver what you ate the last time you were there. i mean, i doubt dan and i have been over there in about 2 months or more, and yet she had egg drop soup in front of me not five minutes after i sat down. amazing, is julie.)
after dinner burt and eero and i watched a netflix of eero's--circle, the eddie izzard performance from 2000. it was hysterical, as usual. did some surfing of the net and read for a bit, and then crashed.
and now it's friday. *sigh* i need more time! or maybe i just need some lottery winnings, so that i don't have to show up there or anywhere and can just keep typing all day long. riiiiiiiiiiiiight. how would the kitchen get cleaned up that way?
this week i've been dreading its arrival, because it means i've only got 3 days left before i have to return to work. i never did make my list of to do items this week--yesterday's grand plans fell by the wayside, as usual...i did have my hair trimmed but the girl didn't take enough off the bottom so consequently this morning the hair looks worse (yes, worse) than it did yesterday. i can see what she was going for, but she must be used to dealing with submissive hair, not this wild stand-up-to-the-world hair that i generate daily. so we'll see. it's better but it's worse. who knows.
tonight is also sg1 night, which is something i adore...but again, the adoration factor is marred by the fact that next week it's back to cubeland.
i think the universe, however, is trying to coax a smile out of me yet--it's snowing and windy out, which is just ever so lovely, and the forecast is for 6-10 inches. yippee!!! that inspires me to cook something stew related, bake some bread, and just generally curl up in the house after forging a path through the park. which is what i'm hoping to do yet this morning.
so last night, in lieu of braving the rest of humanity that was probably clogging kieran's and drowning out the gaels anyway, dan and i went over to our local bar and had a guiness and trounced the other folks there playing trivia. it was quite lovely, and the guiness was on tap, so it tasted much better than the tinny, canned flavor it usually has when poured (not surprisingly) from a can. came home, dan headed up to meet sean and craig, and burt and eero and i drove over to meet darin and cathy and chrissy and mikey at d fong's. which is always a good time, lots of laughter and the best service on the planet from julie, our fave waitress. (she's one of those waitresses who doesn't need to hear you say a word--just brings out your favorite soup, whatever you usually drink, and then scolds you if you order outside your normal area. the other amazing part about julie is that she remembers for-e-ver what you ate the last time you were there. i mean, i doubt dan and i have been over there in about 2 months or more, and yet she had egg drop soup in front of me not five minutes after i sat down. amazing, is julie.)
after dinner burt and eero and i watched a netflix of eero's--circle, the eddie izzard performance from 2000. it was hysterical, as usual. did some surfing of the net and read for a bit, and then crashed.
and now it's friday. *sigh* i need more time! or maybe i just need some lottery winnings, so that i don't have to show up there or anywhere and can just keep typing all day long. riiiiiiiiiiiiight. how would the kitchen get cleaned up that way?
Thursday, March 17, 2005
luck of the irish...
with the inherent luck of my forebears, on a day when i should be singing and dancing, i'm crankier than all hell and with only one reason: it's that time of the month.
additionally, i'm having one of those chop-it-all-off hair days, and i don't want to have to call around to people and organize my favorite occasion to swill beer. my sister's husband's uncle passed away so they're off to milwaukee, as her sister-in-law refuses to tell her father-in-law that this uncle passed away. the vagaries of family.
yesterday went well, we got out the door by 6 (YAWN!) and were in verndale by 930, which includes a half hour stop in st cloud for a new windshield wiper. the funeral was at 11; there's not much you can say about a funeral--it was sad, it makes you consider your own life, it makes you glad to be alive in general. we sat around and visited with family all after noon, which was nice--the sisters seem to be getting along better, and there's talk of get togethers in months and years in between tragedies and weddings, and maybe a family website. so that's good. the down side is that i'm sure dan's parents went through a lot of memories of losing a child all over again, as dan's cousin was only 32. at this point it just becomes a matter of putting one foot in front of the other and plodding along. time doesn't heal; it makes the memories of loss a bit softer around the edges, lets you cope and heal as much as you can. cari said once that it's not about being fully healed, ever. you just carry this scar with you always.
too true. i keep thinking of when corey died, and bev. i worry about mike's widow--together they have 4 children, and she's due again in june.
the beauty of things like this is the outpouring of support you see. it makes me want to weep a bit, just to think of all the people gathered in that room, the ladies who gave up their day to serve coffee and potato casserole. i remember after corey died, the pans of lasagna, the buckets of soup, the bread--mainly i remember a pile of homemade cinnamon rolls. they were delicious, but besides that, i know how much trouble it is to make cinnamon rolls by hand--the dough rising, then rolling it out and baking it. i wonder if the baker thought of the reason behind making those rolls, as she baked--did she think of a time when she'd received them, during a difficult time in her past? did she have a pan baked when she heard he'd died, and just dropped them off?
i like to think that she spent her time baking those rolls, kneading the dough, mixing the cinnamon mixture, knowing their end result would be to sit on a counter in the haugen household and tempt people who didn't care enough to eat any of the many, many dishes supplied.
right now i'm sitting here having my very own wake for all those gone before, and trying to toast my cranky attitude into submission, listening to the gaels perform. hopefully tonight we'll get up to kieran's to listen to some good irish music, and drink some tasty beer, and eat something fried and horrible for my arteries. i love irish music--it's the saddest happy music out there, in my opinion. it's the only music that has an exceedingly lively reel attached to words like: "and she left me here alone for to die."
it's perfectly lovely. i'm very blessed. and in being able to sit here and type, i'm lucky, too.
enough maudlin crap, i'm out to enjoy my day. (:
additionally, i'm having one of those chop-it-all-off hair days, and i don't want to have to call around to people and organize my favorite occasion to swill beer. my sister's husband's uncle passed away so they're off to milwaukee, as her sister-in-law refuses to tell her father-in-law that this uncle passed away. the vagaries of family.
yesterday went well, we got out the door by 6 (YAWN!) and were in verndale by 930, which includes a half hour stop in st cloud for a new windshield wiper. the funeral was at 11; there's not much you can say about a funeral--it was sad, it makes you consider your own life, it makes you glad to be alive in general. we sat around and visited with family all after noon, which was nice--the sisters seem to be getting along better, and there's talk of get togethers in months and years in between tragedies and weddings, and maybe a family website. so that's good. the down side is that i'm sure dan's parents went through a lot of memories of losing a child all over again, as dan's cousin was only 32. at this point it just becomes a matter of putting one foot in front of the other and plodding along. time doesn't heal; it makes the memories of loss a bit softer around the edges, lets you cope and heal as much as you can. cari said once that it's not about being fully healed, ever. you just carry this scar with you always.
too true. i keep thinking of when corey died, and bev. i worry about mike's widow--together they have 4 children, and she's due again in june.
the beauty of things like this is the outpouring of support you see. it makes me want to weep a bit, just to think of all the people gathered in that room, the ladies who gave up their day to serve coffee and potato casserole. i remember after corey died, the pans of lasagna, the buckets of soup, the bread--mainly i remember a pile of homemade cinnamon rolls. they were delicious, but besides that, i know how much trouble it is to make cinnamon rolls by hand--the dough rising, then rolling it out and baking it. i wonder if the baker thought of the reason behind making those rolls, as she baked--did she think of a time when she'd received them, during a difficult time in her past? did she have a pan baked when she heard he'd died, and just dropped them off?
i like to think that she spent her time baking those rolls, kneading the dough, mixing the cinnamon mixture, knowing their end result would be to sit on a counter in the haugen household and tempt people who didn't care enough to eat any of the many, many dishes supplied.
right now i'm sitting here having my very own wake for all those gone before, and trying to toast my cranky attitude into submission, listening to the gaels perform. hopefully tonight we'll get up to kieran's to listen to some good irish music, and drink some tasty beer, and eat something fried and horrible for my arteries. i love irish music--it's the saddest happy music out there, in my opinion. it's the only music that has an exceedingly lively reel attached to words like: "and she left me here alone for to die."
it's perfectly lovely. i'm very blessed. and in being able to sit here and type, i'm lucky, too.
enough maudlin crap, i'm out to enjoy my day. (:
Tuesday, March 15, 2005
blogger gack
i don't know what it's doing, but it's only out there once when i look at edit posts, but it's there twice when i look at the blog. ???
museum
my legs
are sleeping
i'm crouched down
down down
beneath something large
maybe a couch
or a house?
i can't tell
can't speak
i'm hiding
from that semblance of events
that most folks categorize
as living.
how long can i
remain
before seeking eyes
pry
and find?
limbs atrophied
eyes sinking
i want to stay
here
it's not for lack
of creativity
or spark
whatever this is that keeps my heart
thudding along
i can't blame it on media
or genetics--
just plain old
me,
wanting to support the structure
but not be
brushed off and shined up and glass boxed and
on
display.
are sleeping
i'm crouched down
down down
beneath something large
maybe a couch
or a house?
i can't tell
can't speak
i'm hiding
from that semblance of events
that most folks categorize
as living.
how long can i
remain
before seeking eyes
pry
and find?
limbs atrophied
eyes sinking
i want to stay
here
it's not for lack
of creativity
or spark
whatever this is that keeps my heart
thudding along
i can't blame it on media
or genetics--
just plain old
me,
wanting to support the structure
but not be
brushed off and shined up and glass boxed and
on
display.
Monday, March 14, 2005
one of my fave quotes:
from one of the last places you'd expect a great quote, a sci-fi television show. who knows. anyway i've been feeling a lack of place, needing some tie-me-down to keep me moored in reality of late. so here it is, part and parcel of whatever mantra i make up to keep sanity docked:
The Universe puts us in places where we can learn. They are never easy places, but they are right. Wherever we are, it's the right place...and the right time. Pain that sometimes comes is part of the process of constantly being born. Then I will tell you a great secret. Perhaps the greatest of all time. The molecules of your body are the same molecules that make up this station and the nebula outside, that burn inside the stars themselves. We are starstuff, we are the universe made manifest, trying to figure itself out. As we have both learned, sometimes the universe requires a change of perspective.
Delenn (or rather, jms, creator of Babylon 5)
The Universe puts us in places where we can learn. They are never easy places, but they are right. Wherever we are, it's the right place...and the right time. Pain that sometimes comes is part of the process of constantly being born. Then I will tell you a great secret. Perhaps the greatest of all time. The molecules of your body are the same molecules that make up this station and the nebula outside, that burn inside the stars themselves. We are starstuff, we are the universe made manifest, trying to figure itself out. As we have both learned, sometimes the universe requires a change of perspective.
Delenn (or rather, jms, creator of Babylon 5)
Sunday, March 13, 2005
overload
i'm kind of overwhelmed right now. it's the beginning of my vacation, only day 2, and i was laying in the upstairs room cataloging all i'd like to get done. my main goal is laundry, which includes washing comforters and everything. it needs it. course i despise washing my down comforter because it's a bitch to dry; last year when i did, i singed the feathers a bit, which is one of the worst smells ever. blech.
i also need to organize my books. they're on shelves, but not in any order. it'd be nice to get them organized. maybe i'll even go so far as to alphabetize; but don't dream, dan. LOL it'll probably be my usual mix of i like this author a lot and this author not as much. this is the kimbo decimal system.
i also want to get that upstairs room organized once and for all. serena will be staying here eventually for d and c's wedding, and before that, cari and tony on their way to st maarten. and i really, really need to start yoga again. i thought about that and let myself savor and dwell on it a little last night, when i was laying there trying to massage the kinks out of my neck and settle my overzealous stomach. when i was doing yoga and walking at least every other day, i didn't have these problems. so that means i need to start again, plain and simple.
course that means i need to clean up that room. which is going to be difficult, because i really need to clean out my file thing before i start cleaning, as most of the stuff needs to go into the file.
this is remniscent of cleaning off my desk the other day, before going on vacation. there's piles of stuff that's like minefields--some safe and able to be handled quickly, other papers that need to be filed and shredded before they're relegated to that wooden crate again. some things--like the information i need in order to get my actual birth certificate--are things that just need to be done. (in new york they don't give your b.c. to you unless you request it. my sister found this out last year when they went to get their marriage license; the certificate we have is just a certificate stating that yes, there IS an acutal birth certificate in existence.)
why the extra paperwork? i don't get it.
last night i had this wild dream that our group of spies, from dan's spygame, were on the move. we had to hide in this garage; the ground was covered with snow, some still falling, and we were trying to avoid stepping in the snow as we moved. we got into the garage and heard this low grumble; there was another garage attached to the house behind us, and inside it was a lion. i've had this dream before. we did something and called in a complaint before we left.
that upstairs room is that lion. i'm trying to do too much, all over again. oy. better make a list.
i also need to organize my books. they're on shelves, but not in any order. it'd be nice to get them organized. maybe i'll even go so far as to alphabetize; but don't dream, dan. LOL it'll probably be my usual mix of i like this author a lot and this author not as much. this is the kimbo decimal system.
i also want to get that upstairs room organized once and for all. serena will be staying here eventually for d and c's wedding, and before that, cari and tony on their way to st maarten. and i really, really need to start yoga again. i thought about that and let myself savor and dwell on it a little last night, when i was laying there trying to massage the kinks out of my neck and settle my overzealous stomach. when i was doing yoga and walking at least every other day, i didn't have these problems. so that means i need to start again, plain and simple.
course that means i need to clean up that room. which is going to be difficult, because i really need to clean out my file thing before i start cleaning, as most of the stuff needs to go into the file.
this is remniscent of cleaning off my desk the other day, before going on vacation. there's piles of stuff that's like minefields--some safe and able to be handled quickly, other papers that need to be filed and shredded before they're relegated to that wooden crate again. some things--like the information i need in order to get my actual birth certificate--are things that just need to be done. (in new york they don't give your b.c. to you unless you request it. my sister found this out last year when they went to get their marriage license; the certificate we have is just a certificate stating that yes, there IS an acutal birth certificate in existence.)
why the extra paperwork? i don't get it.
last night i had this wild dream that our group of spies, from dan's spygame, were on the move. we had to hide in this garage; the ground was covered with snow, some still falling, and we were trying to avoid stepping in the snow as we moved. we got into the garage and heard this low grumble; there was another garage attached to the house behind us, and inside it was a lion. i've had this dream before. we did something and called in a complaint before we left.
that upstairs room is that lion. i'm trying to do too much, all over again. oy. better make a list.
Saturday, March 12, 2005
sat
so far today, i've lived up to the abbreviation of saturday: sat.
i got up and sat with dan for a bit; his dad called to let us know that a cousin was killed in a car accident this morning. we're waiting for further updates. dan hasn't had contact with his cousin in a long time, but i'm sure if there's a funeral we'll drive out. saying good bye, even to a memory, is important.
then i sat in my computer chair and paid bills.
sat in my bed and warmed up my feet while talking to my sister about school and evolution and how she was not aware that they don't even use the word evolution any more, and how one of her students' fathers gave her a book to read about how evolution was a myth. interesting. she works in the cities; i respect all opinions, but dang does it seem backwards for a school in the metro area. and to accept without question the idea of creationism--what kind of lack of curiosity has time fostered?
sat and watched part of a horrible movie on sci fi with dan, mosquito. awful. the mosquitos themselves should have gone on strike; they looked horrible. but it was still amusing because that hum is the universal word for annoyance, large or small. comical horror.
sat and picked out socks.
now sitting at the computer again. yesterday i made it as far as the grocery store, never the post office. luckily the post office in apple valley is open until 130 so i can still make it down there if i hustle. so i guess i better get off my duff and move. (:
i think dan's feeling better, but he's still got this deep, hacking cough that just sound hideous, and is currently sleeping on the couch. i don't want to turn off the tv because i'm afraid i'll wake him. apparently typing doesn't make him move. nifty.
sick
i'm prey
being stalked by something
the size of a garbage truck
or maybe that's just
a bacterial shadow
i heard it settling in your chest
the other day
getting friendly with your lungs
i don't
want it.
send it away, mail it to
tahiti
or maybe the aleutian
islands.
solitary
confinement
seclusion in a land where it cannot
sneak up
on unsuspecting
primates.
i'm a selfish ape;
my flesh doesn't want
to be shared
with that
creature.
i got up and sat with dan for a bit; his dad called to let us know that a cousin was killed in a car accident this morning. we're waiting for further updates. dan hasn't had contact with his cousin in a long time, but i'm sure if there's a funeral we'll drive out. saying good bye, even to a memory, is important.
then i sat in my computer chair and paid bills.
sat in my bed and warmed up my feet while talking to my sister about school and evolution and how she was not aware that they don't even use the word evolution any more, and how one of her students' fathers gave her a book to read about how evolution was a myth. interesting. she works in the cities; i respect all opinions, but dang does it seem backwards for a school in the metro area. and to accept without question the idea of creationism--what kind of lack of curiosity has time fostered?
sat and watched part of a horrible movie on sci fi with dan, mosquito. awful. the mosquitos themselves should have gone on strike; they looked horrible. but it was still amusing because that hum is the universal word for annoyance, large or small. comical horror.
sat and picked out socks.
now sitting at the computer again. yesterday i made it as far as the grocery store, never the post office. luckily the post office in apple valley is open until 130 so i can still make it down there if i hustle. so i guess i better get off my duff and move. (:
i think dan's feeling better, but he's still got this deep, hacking cough that just sound hideous, and is currently sleeping on the couch. i don't want to turn off the tv because i'm afraid i'll wake him. apparently typing doesn't make him move. nifty.
sick
i'm prey
being stalked by something
the size of a garbage truck
or maybe that's just
a bacterial shadow
i heard it settling in your chest
the other day
getting friendly with your lungs
i don't
want it.
send it away, mail it to
tahiti
or maybe the aleutian
islands.
solitary
confinement
seclusion in a land where it cannot
sneak up
on unsuspecting
primates.
i'm a selfish ape;
my flesh doesn't want
to be shared
with that
creature.
Friday, March 11, 2005
fried
fried
broken like humpty
i was dumped onto pavement
scattered
never thought i'd write
about how much i feel
like
an egg.
it's friday and i have all next week off. yay. have to hit the grocery store and then the post office before they close for the day. then it's off to tangee's for sci fi friday and truffle making. yum.
i'm not sure i'm going anywhere on my Big Week Off, mainly because my roommates have just been struggling with some terrible, horrible, no good very nasty colds, and i don't want to visit and leave my host or hostess the never ending gift of virus.
so maybe this will be a week home to heal the edges of my self back together, or at least gather them into a pile and then drop off extras at the thrift store.
either way, it's starting on an auspiciuosly good foot for me--it's snowing, big happy flakes.
hopefully i won't have to write about my likeness to a fairy tale ova in the near future.
broken like humpty
i was dumped onto pavement
scattered
never thought i'd write
about how much i feel
like
an egg.
it's friday and i have all next week off. yay. have to hit the grocery store and then the post office before they close for the day. then it's off to tangee's for sci fi friday and truffle making. yum.
i'm not sure i'm going anywhere on my Big Week Off, mainly because my roommates have just been struggling with some terrible, horrible, no good very nasty colds, and i don't want to visit and leave my host or hostess the never ending gift of virus.
so maybe this will be a week home to heal the edges of my self back together, or at least gather them into a pile and then drop off extras at the thrift store.
either way, it's starting on an auspiciuosly good foot for me--it's snowing, big happy flakes.
hopefully i won't have to write about my likeness to a fairy tale ova in the near future.
Saturday, March 05, 2005
inspiration
when i lived up north, i got really, really inspired by a book.
nothing in the self help section; just a plain old fiction book. the heroine was just that kick ass. it inspired me to do things i never considered, but things that really did change my life--moving off on my own, being as independent as i needed to be.
it's something that comes and goes, this inspiration. i think about the way things work and how i never know exactly when it's going to strike. usually it arrives in the form of media--books, music, television, movies. and usually it inspires me for a while, and then flits off.
i was thinking about this the other day, mainly because i went to the website at which i used to arrive daily, and it was closed down. hadn't been there in a while; the heroine that so inspired me in northern climes has taken a different turn, and i don't find her books as vivid any longer. part of me was sad to see that site close, but part of me was relieved--i'm not missing anything, it's all gone. i never thought i would be getting so much stuff from a computer, or via a computer.
lately my inspiration has been slightly dried up. it reminds me of most natural things--drought, rain, blossoms, drought again. it's cyclical, it's nothing reliable, and it's certainly not predictable.
i used to think that people who wrote poems on napkins were strange. this was back when i started college. now i'm a napkin person too; in fact the other day it was while waiting for car financing to go through, and on the back of my privacy release document.
for a long time i made myself be creative, whenever i needed to be, for school. now it's not a requirement any longer, and it's falling into a state of disrepair, or maybe just back to its natural form, the cycles of the moon, the seasons, however it worked before i made it dance like a bear.
it frustrates me, this inaction. and yet i have a difficut time reaching over, or seeing past it, to the point at which it rains and i paint, or draw, or write, just plain old create. writing--poetry in particular--is like breathing: so much a part of me that i cannot imagine not expressing myself in this manner.
so what's my inspiration today? what's gotten me out of bed before the dark hour of nine am? my family's in town somewhere. my car is waiting to be driven. i figured out the antenna and now i have radio. such a novel idea. (;
it'll come to me when the snow starts to melt. i know that i need to relax and just let go of the anxiety, the feeling that i'm being blocked, because i'm not. i'm like the earth, the grass, the green growing spring life--dormant, waiting. something will arrive and i will move, stretch my inspired limbs and just do.
nothing in the self help section; just a plain old fiction book. the heroine was just that kick ass. it inspired me to do things i never considered, but things that really did change my life--moving off on my own, being as independent as i needed to be.
it's something that comes and goes, this inspiration. i think about the way things work and how i never know exactly when it's going to strike. usually it arrives in the form of media--books, music, television, movies. and usually it inspires me for a while, and then flits off.
i was thinking about this the other day, mainly because i went to the website at which i used to arrive daily, and it was closed down. hadn't been there in a while; the heroine that so inspired me in northern climes has taken a different turn, and i don't find her books as vivid any longer. part of me was sad to see that site close, but part of me was relieved--i'm not missing anything, it's all gone. i never thought i would be getting so much stuff from a computer, or via a computer.
lately my inspiration has been slightly dried up. it reminds me of most natural things--drought, rain, blossoms, drought again. it's cyclical, it's nothing reliable, and it's certainly not predictable.
i used to think that people who wrote poems on napkins were strange. this was back when i started college. now i'm a napkin person too; in fact the other day it was while waiting for car financing to go through, and on the back of my privacy release document.
for a long time i made myself be creative, whenever i needed to be, for school. now it's not a requirement any longer, and it's falling into a state of disrepair, or maybe just back to its natural form, the cycles of the moon, the seasons, however it worked before i made it dance like a bear.
it frustrates me, this inaction. and yet i have a difficut time reaching over, or seeing past it, to the point at which it rains and i paint, or draw, or write, just plain old create. writing--poetry in particular--is like breathing: so much a part of me that i cannot imagine not expressing myself in this manner.
so what's my inspiration today? what's gotten me out of bed before the dark hour of nine am? my family's in town somewhere. my car is waiting to be driven. i figured out the antenna and now i have radio. such a novel idea. (;
it'll come to me when the snow starts to melt. i know that i need to relax and just let go of the anxiety, the feeling that i'm being blocked, because i'm not. i'm like the earth, the grass, the green growing spring life--dormant, waiting. something will arrive and i will move, stretch my inspired limbs and just do.
Friday, March 04, 2005
moon
it's a bright gray day out side right now. bright because of the snow, because the sky is this pillow-soft shade of off-white-gray, which is all bright because of the sun, which is apparently taking the day off. it's what the world would look like during the day if the moon was bigger, i think.
it's going to be a long day. i say this because i'm tired, and 9 hours of work is not something to look forward to. also most of the work i just flat out don't want to do. i am tired of deciding who created what problem--can i not just solve them in peace? just come to the conclusion? it's exhausting. add to that the job duties, which just keep piling up, and you have apathy.
even if i am there, i'm not going to be much good.
which tires me. i dislike going to a job and feeling that i'm both A: making no headway and B: doing no good.
i have a week of vacation coming up. i have a new car. i'm seriously thinking about leaving my job.
at the same time, there are things i would miss dearly: my friends, the lax attitudes towards off color humor and downright nasty language, wearing clothing that at a normal business casual place would be considered out...these are things i would miss. it makes me scared to think that at another job i might not have these things. and yet at the same time, the way management is going, i'm tired of it. sick of the office. sick of the politics of the office, and tired of the machinations of my supervisor, who i'm sure is suffering the trickle down effect and just passing the shit onto the rest of us.
but that doesn't make it fair.
you know what i hate? i hate guilt trips. i'm guilty of handing them out with the best, but i despise being guilt tripped, or made to feel guilty. i've tried for many years to shake myself of this habit because it's both unhealthy and ridiculously self-centered. but it's hard not to when you get into a meeting and your boss says: "because of what's going on with you guys, this is what i did on my vacation" and then launches into a powerpoint presentation with graphs and charts that basically point out the fact that WE SUCK ROCKS right now.
he could have just put up two screens and saved an hour of slideshow: You're shitty. slide two: Fix it.
i like to think of myself as a creative person. i really do. but put me in that office environ and i turn into this skip-to-the-end, stop-wasting-my-time bitch.
of course, in typical kim fashion, heaven forbid that i stand up for myself or say something about how crappy this makes me feel, because it might hurt someone else.
i've inherited, from my parents, this fear that if i say the wrong thing or do something wrong, i'll be punished and my job will be revoked. and then i'll be stuck trying to find another job.
which is kind of where i've put myself, anyway. i guess it's like your arm slowly rotting off, and you not going to the doctor until it's gone, and then saying, so doc, what can you do for me.
i shouldn't be surprised and yet i am.
additionally, i had a lovely time w/ nathan last night--had dinner at the chatterbox and then coffee at vera's afterwards--but whatever i ate is causing internal distress. i think it was that blessedly delicious hamburger, which had feta cheese, roasted cloves of garlic (whole), sun dried tomatoes, and some kind of creamy pesto spread, all on rosemary focaccia. delish. but beef isn't something i eat often, and yikes do i remember why. (;
anyway off to work, someone wish me luck and sci fi friday, here i come!
it's going to be a long day. i say this because i'm tired, and 9 hours of work is not something to look forward to. also most of the work i just flat out don't want to do. i am tired of deciding who created what problem--can i not just solve them in peace? just come to the conclusion? it's exhausting. add to that the job duties, which just keep piling up, and you have apathy.
even if i am there, i'm not going to be much good.
which tires me. i dislike going to a job and feeling that i'm both A: making no headway and B: doing no good.
i have a week of vacation coming up. i have a new car. i'm seriously thinking about leaving my job.
at the same time, there are things i would miss dearly: my friends, the lax attitudes towards off color humor and downright nasty language, wearing clothing that at a normal business casual place would be considered out...these are things i would miss. it makes me scared to think that at another job i might not have these things. and yet at the same time, the way management is going, i'm tired of it. sick of the office. sick of the politics of the office, and tired of the machinations of my supervisor, who i'm sure is suffering the trickle down effect and just passing the shit onto the rest of us.
but that doesn't make it fair.
you know what i hate? i hate guilt trips. i'm guilty of handing them out with the best, but i despise being guilt tripped, or made to feel guilty. i've tried for many years to shake myself of this habit because it's both unhealthy and ridiculously self-centered. but it's hard not to when you get into a meeting and your boss says: "because of what's going on with you guys, this is what i did on my vacation" and then launches into a powerpoint presentation with graphs and charts that basically point out the fact that WE SUCK ROCKS right now.
he could have just put up two screens and saved an hour of slideshow: You're shitty. slide two: Fix it.
i like to think of myself as a creative person. i really do. but put me in that office environ and i turn into this skip-to-the-end, stop-wasting-my-time bitch.
of course, in typical kim fashion, heaven forbid that i stand up for myself or say something about how crappy this makes me feel, because it might hurt someone else.
i've inherited, from my parents, this fear that if i say the wrong thing or do something wrong, i'll be punished and my job will be revoked. and then i'll be stuck trying to find another job.
which is kind of where i've put myself, anyway. i guess it's like your arm slowly rotting off, and you not going to the doctor until it's gone, and then saying, so doc, what can you do for me.
i shouldn't be surprised and yet i am.
additionally, i had a lovely time w/ nathan last night--had dinner at the chatterbox and then coffee at vera's afterwards--but whatever i ate is causing internal distress. i think it was that blessedly delicious hamburger, which had feta cheese, roasted cloves of garlic (whole), sun dried tomatoes, and some kind of creamy pesto spread, all on rosemary focaccia. delish. but beef isn't something i eat often, and yikes do i remember why. (;
anyway off to work, someone wish me luck and sci fi friday, here i come!
Wednesday, March 02, 2005
sooooooooooooooo...
i got a car.
it's a 1998 subaru impreza, black, 5-door, automatic, 45K, all wheel drive. needs a cd player to be complete, but it's cute, it's practical, and it's mine.
i already know her name, too: bianca.
i'm sad to lose my lupe, though. it was kind of depressing to see my periwinkle pride and joy, my first car, sit in the lot as i drove away in the "usurper," which got a clean bill of health from the mechanic, alan, who walked over the whole vehicle with me. of course i was distracted because the car was in the air and had no wheels on it, and i'm TERRIBLY easily amused, so the fact that i was standing under the car was highly, highly, highly entertaining.
well. ripley's believe it or not is on. believe it or not, i got a car. yay. welcome, bianca. thank you and good life, lupe. *sniff*
it's a 1998 subaru impreza, black, 5-door, automatic, 45K, all wheel drive. needs a cd player to be complete, but it's cute, it's practical, and it's mine.
i already know her name, too: bianca.
i'm sad to lose my lupe, though. it was kind of depressing to see my periwinkle pride and joy, my first car, sit in the lot as i drove away in the "usurper," which got a clean bill of health from the mechanic, alan, who walked over the whole vehicle with me. of course i was distracted because the car was in the air and had no wheels on it, and i'm TERRIBLY easily amused, so the fact that i was standing under the car was highly, highly, highly entertaining.
well. ripley's believe it or not is on. believe it or not, i got a car. yay. welcome, bianca. thank you and good life, lupe. *sniff*
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