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| Ghouls, Gals, and Goodies |
| 10.31.04 (5:40 am) [edit] |
So after slightly leaning on staying home last night, watching "Return to Oz" and carving my pumpkin, I decided to go to my friend's party in the 'burbs afterall. I threw together a costume that crossed between Pippi Longstocking and Punky Brewster. One of these years I'm going to get Halloween right and slut it up like every other girl on the planet--that's what Costume parties were made for, right? For those of you who have seen the movie "Mean Girls" know exactly what I mean.
Young adults at Halloween parties make up the funniest scenarios. What other time of year can you say something like "Did you see that guy dressed as a Pink Lady? Isn't he hot in that skirt?" Or when you're trying to talk about someone without them knowing..."yeah, did you see Ghost Buster Girl? Totally hitting on my boyfriend. No not Elivis, the buff Hooters Girl over there."
Call this a digression to high school, whatever you want, but i think it's hilarious...
...and i got me-self a 'smore bar. :-p
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| cheers! |
| 10.29.04 (5:56 pm) [edit] |
happy halloween.
be safe. be cheery. be someone you're not normally.
love and lots of daffodils.
me.
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| Starting Over |
| 10.29.04 (5:51 pm) [edit] |
I've become addicted to the show Starting Over, where a housefull of women work towards their goals and "issues" with the support of life coaches and housemates. By seeing other people discover major insight on a daily basis, it's helped me keep a positive attitude this week about a lot of things. I tend to be a hoarder and then purger of emotions, I admit that (I may never LOOK stressed or upset, but it all collects inside until I turn into an overflowing hot cup of coffee).
What I love the most about the show, though, is how they learn to re-build their relationships with people, or learn where the connection went wrong (not necessarily placing the blame, just identifying). In my art and often in my writing that has been a continuous theme--connections with people (and the stories behind them). If we could just identify all of the crud we keep pent up, letting it all out: anger, sadness, happiness, disgust, fear...
Sometimes I think if I can just go somewhere to scream where noone can hear me I'd feel so much lighter. Like, "Forces of Nature" with Sandra Bullock and Ben Affleck. You know the scene? They stand on top of the stalled train on a bridge overlooking a lake, and she just bellows like Tarzan. Of course Ben's character is like 'what the-f- are doing?' But eventually he let's go.
I think we all need a little letting go.
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| On the Verge Part 2 |
| 10.23.04 (1:23 pm) [edit] |
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It's a perfect day for walking with Stephanie Dosen in my ears, scarf around my neck, warm toasted marshmallow hot chocolate in my hands, and sun on my face. Just by myself. Little nuggets of prime time to listen, to see, to smell, to reinvent.
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| too much and not enough |
| 10.16.04 (4:28 pm) [edit] |
sometimes there is just too much to write about i don't know where to start. i don't want to give you my best candy because it's such an unfair trade, you know? if i give you my big box of junior mints from the mansion on the hill, you can't give me anything as good in return. or if you can...you don't. now when i say "you" i mean, like, everyone out there. now if i was seven and you were my older brother, i'd probably kick your a$$ into next Thursday unless you traded me for something good.
the worst is when you try to trade smarties or tootsie rolls--that's like playing pennies in poker(not like i know what poker's all about, but a good analogy nonetheless).
So i'll settle for something inbetween. here's a pack of twizzlers:
i've stooped to online dating.
*eeep!*
now give me a damn Reeses and we'll call it even.
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| matter |
| 10.13.04 (7:06 pm) [edit] |
Matter
When she looked into her eyes
she could tell what really mattered.
Underneith the idle chatter,
the "don't be ashamed" and the "But you're the one to blame"
This ain't no name game
of trying to be the same.
It's the matter of the hour,
the tiny tip of the tower
that speaks to a bohemian life
where wife meets wife.
It's a complex situation where
Martha meets vixen
and both are fixin' to make the most of matter.
This ain't no game of
trying to "be"
again.
This complex situation is just awaitin'
for the arrival of their tea
and a little bit of
harmony.
Then they will both be of equal matter
and swallow their chatter until
empty cups lead to bump de bump bumps.
And once again Martha meets vixen
in a
complex situation
where the tip of the tower is
"Honey, what's the matter?"
She turns away in the
amber glow of day
with thoughts of
"Husband, wife" and
"No, that's not my life!"
In a situation where love is no longer
chatter,
the truth of the matter
beats
going
home.
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| before i die |
| 10.10.04 (10:46 am) [edit] |
today is a no caps day...
things to experience before i die:
*a snowy beach in winter*
*the day of the dead in mexico*
*the west coast*
*italy (not in summer!)*
*someone reading my book in a bookstore*
*a family reunion*
*birth--or giving another life a home*
*the cafe JK Rowling began Harry Potter in*
*New England in fall*
*talking in italian over coffee in an authentic italian cafe*
*being in love (and maybe not necessarily with a partner**see "birth"**)*
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| Double dutch |
| 10.05.04 (5:48 pm) [edit] |
Did you ever have one of those days where you feel like you're jumping double dutch?
Back in middle school it was the thing for girls to do--jump rope--to be accepted, to have fun, to prove yourself.
The girls twirling the ropes usually had evil grins, fast hands, and mad reputations. They knew you were their prey. You either jumped to the challenge or tripped and sat on the curb, waiting to try to prove yourself again.
There was the other group of girls who just jumped one rope and varied the speed and type of way they swung it. In the end though, they would always try to play their "nice" version of double dutch.
I never got the jist of it. Nice, or not-nice version.
I was never very good at double dutch.
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| Horizons |
| 10.03.04 (1:47 pm) [edit] |
In time she didn't see the skyline like a praire view.
It didn't offer waves of grain.
From her 10th floor loft, nothing but obstructed connect the dots: bridges. dash-dash. condo. dash. billboard. freeway.
Free. Way.
She remembered a time when purple met blue
in a never ending view
of free-dom.
A kingdom of peace
with every escape from noise and village voice.
With every escape from doom and
vrrooom, vvrrrooom.
What ever happened to ever waves of grain?
Of the sane?
Of the never being blamed
for pollution and no solutions.
Passive agressive, pc, easy, lazy,
To be OCD-zy in a world of clutter.
She shifts and shuffles among her loft rubble,
discovering tranquility now in "Timeless escape".
A breathe easy view at time and all its nuances.
Disturbances of tick-tick and "What time is it?"
She knew it, blew it,
Threw it
Out the window
Until the pages escaped into white dove's
flight.
Across the horizon,
where time flew and she knew
that sky never really meets
ground.
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| Thinking...orange. |
| 10.01.04 (6:55 pm) [edit] |
I would make some exclamation here about how I can't believe it's October already if I weren't so preoccupied with the thought that it's a Friday night and I'm not out. In some ways I think it's worse than when you have uneventful weekends in high school.
Without trying to sound redundant, we all make social choices...and tonight I choose to stay in...plus there's a rapist on the loose in the city, which majorly freaks me out, but even so...
there's so much I want to say here and yet I can't find the words right now. They're like a half baked cake.
Hmm, maybe I'll make cookies tonight...
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