here i am

my crazy brother left on an impromptu road trip today, to reconnect with his past, and with the elements of his universe that make sense to him ... good, real friends. he forgot to take a map. the best trips go that way. he missed a turn and phoned me for directions. we pored over my atlas together on the phone, and made a plan. a short while later my phone rang again and his voice came over the line all full up with awe and shaken by sublimity ... he was zooming along the barren prairie and the sunset blazed one side of the sky with the most intense red fire he'd ever seen, while the other was filled with a gigantic crystal clear one end to the other double rainbow. it seems he'd gone the wrong way for all the right reasons. m

when i think of what i tend to be attracted to, what the common denominator is ... it is, in part at least, this thing that i can't quite describe well. it's something maybe we can come to call, 'capable'. i'm attracted to people, regardless of other aspects of their personalities, appearances, etc., who are efficient and purposeful in their actions. steady. people who set about getting things done with a sense of confident determination. they could be baking cookies, but if they did it in this way, i would find them to be more masculine than someone changing a tire (well, unless they were also changing the tire in this way too!). usually they are adept with their hands and move quickly, but with lean agility. it's more than a physical presence, though that exists there as well. but it's a sort of mental strength. when someone is sensitive and attuned to their surroundings, yet not overwhelmed or paralyzed by that sensitivity. i was just pondering this. m

the azalea is on its last legs. i couldn't let you down. i'll be back soon ... i've been cheating on you. i'll get it all figured out. i'm inspired. m

Sometimes you have to allow people a little bit of grace. Sometimes you have to ask them to do the same for you. I struggle constantly with my perfectionism. It will become the death of me and preclude me from having any reasonable resemblance of meaningful relationships if I don't find a way to lick it somehow. Some things are better left unsaid, or un-challenged, or un-defined, or unresolved. Giving up is for weenies. Love is mutually inspired generosity of spirit. And it's hard to come by. M

I have no idea why I haven't been writing. No fucking clue. Anyway, I will soon again. If anyone's around still to care. (and even if not) M

At 5:00 this morning an airplane took my baby brother away to the land of sun and sand. That plane carried away my heart ... Took away the one person in my life who knows me well enough to always call me on my shit ... The one with whom I can talk about anything in the universe ... Who makes me laugh until I can't breathe ... Who always fixes my muffler and my brakes ... The most honest man I know ... Who threatens to beat up anyone who would cause damage to my soul, and never loses patience trying to coach me through a hopeless attempt at a bank shot ... The one who isn't afraid to say and do the things that are real ... The one I know will find his way someday ... The one who hugged me for 10 minutes last night, and risked his macho card crying after I pushed a wad of bills into his hand, to help him on his way. Somebody better take care of him, 'cos I find myself once again at a crossroads of our lives where I can't anymore. M

5 wrought iron dancing people with straw clothing - ostensibly of african persuasion. 2 light blue votive candles in some sort of 'ocean' or 'rain' scent. A wooden "Teachers Have Class" door hanging, complete with dangling wooden pencils. 2 mugs - one ugly, one lovely. (The ugly one proclaiming me to be the Best Teacher, the lovely one with an art deco rabbit hugging a heart, and saying "I love you so much" inside the rim). 1 metal silhouette of a cat, with a tiny string to hang it ( where? ) by. Two wool skirts (1 red, 1 blue), and a blue hawaiian print sundress - none of which will fit me nor will I wear. A perfectly drab looking tiny windchime that makes the most beautiful sound.. 2 dollar store "Balance for Your Life" CDs - Peaceful Ocean and Deep Sleep. 1 birthday card with a photo of an ancient skinny woman doing a leg lift against a bus stop sign - the inside of which reads: "As long as you can get it up, you know you're n...

cold brown rice cooked with lotsa olive oil and veggie boullion disappointingly marginally wilted spinach salmon marinated with pesto that I cooked on thursday (tastes like steak for some reason!) cucumbers (not english ... the store didn't have any) tomato basil feta a few basil leaves torn apart hastily lemon juice white balsamic vinegar sea salt cracked pepper a fork that matches none of the other forks in the drawer

It's fall. It's crisp. It's good. I'm back running again (after a couple weeks of tired-ness, sick-ness, other-ness). I'm sort of set back, but it still feels really damned good to be out there. I forget. The run of our play is almost done, and I am super burnt. I am glad it's been done, but I can't wait for it to be done. At work I am a juggler of lightbulbs, a perpetual spinner of precarious and beautiful, brightly colored, idiosyncratic tops. And then every now and again I have the presence of mind to just step back and watch. And I see. And I remember why I do what I do. And it's very kickass. Someone gave me an Azalea for my birthday. Someone who obviously does not know my reputation for being a murderess. I'll keep you updated on its fate. It's gorgeous. My camera has been borrowed and not been returned, but if she's still kicking when I get it back, a portrait, I promise. M

Al momento de empezar a escribir, se me van volando todas mis palabras. Ayer por fin fui de nuevo a correr. No había ido desde que empezó la escuela. Tan cansada. Tan ocupada. Tanto. Pero ahora - a empezar de nuevo. A veces me siento tan sola ... pero a veces agradezco al cielo tener el derecho y la oportunidad de estar sola con mis pensamientos, mis proyectos, mi alma. Soy, mas que nada, al final del cuento, una persona muy solitaria. Ésta es una de esas noches. Mañana pueda ser que me siento diferente ... M

I know it's boring to be happy an' all ... But ... My nightmare of a birthday dream didn't come true! I had a lovely, spoiled and be-gifted day. I felt very, very loved. I had this feeling come over me at one point last night. I just felt at home in my skin and at ease and finally grown up. I felt free. I feel good about 30 now. It's all good. I have people in my life who care about me and think I'm tops. I enjoy my work and am fulfilled in what I do. I am engaged in things I care about. I am talented and dedicated, beautiful and whole. I live a full, rich, healthy, vibrant life. I am the person I hoped I would be when I grew up. Don't get me wrong - I had my tearful moment yesterday driving home at dusk listening to Jackson Browne and lamenting my un-mated-ness. But it just was what it was ... A moment. All things considered, I'm cool with 30. M

It's here. M

The first time I saw D was my first day back at school the first semester of my sophomore year in college. When I opened the door (after my last two roommates, dreading who or what I might find when I entered), I saw her squinting at me from against the radiator at the far wall of the tiny rectangle that was our dorm room, smoking a Marlboro Light 100. I'll never forget the brand she smoked. They fit her. They were slender and inconspicuous, the box long and cream and white and somehow common but sophisticated. I don't know what it was, and I'm trying to remember it now - it frustrates me that I can't - that told me in an instant that we were kindred spirits. She was beautiful, slender, native american. She had almond eyes and high cheekbones and long brown hair ... we shared a sort of eclectically funky style. She was fond of loosely woven brown sweaters and a sort of rust colored lipstick that brought out her eyes, hair, skin ... she wore too much makeup to cover old ...

I'm just writing 'cos I should be writing. I'm so supa dupa tired. I've gotten precious little sleep all week. I'm fighting off a cold (as usual). I'm now working full days whereas last year I was only working in the afternoon. The days of leisurely mornings sipping tea, munching granola and finding it easy to find time for a run are now a distant memory. I need a whole new M.O. I've never been good at this 9-5 gig. Then I still have all the crazy assortment of random other commitments to attend to evenings ... and I just can't seem to make myself get to bed at a decent hour. The night owl dies hard. So I get run down. And that's about it. Eh. Boring. Tonight we had our back to school picnic. It was lovely. It's nice to see the kids outside of the classroom context. To sit at a scrubby picnic table and eat fresh tabouli and sticky watermelon and listen to a half hour's worth of senseless knock-knock jokes (they are appreciative of my laught...

I woke up this morning at around 3am - sobbing. In my dream, it was my birthday. The entire day had gone by, and the wan light of dusk was filtering through the half drawn shades. No one had acknowledged my birthday in any way, shape or form. No party, no cake, no card, no phone call, not even a "Happy Birthday" in passing. It hit me like a sonic boom of vacant pain - I'm 30, I'm alone, and no one loves me. I started to cry, woke myself up crying. And just kept on crying until I fell back asleep ... M

... Nothing I can say. I can just scream angst into the void. This country. Fuck. M

Well, here I am. It's another muggy humid day. It's Saturday. I should be resting, and I did rest ... but there's lots to be done, and I'm in one of those moods. One of those letsgetstuffdone! moods. I have to take advantage of them while they're here. So I napped, and now I'm ... well ... I'm getting stuff done. It's been a hectic week of too little sleep and nine million things to keep track of as I begin to prepare for the school year to start. It's always the same - a little daunting, a little exciting all at once. But as each year passes, it gets to be a little less of the daunting, and a little more of the exciting. I still like shopping for cute crisp fun useful school supplies. Funky notebooks, the smell of pencils. I guess like everybody. I've been eating like crap (people like to show their love and appreciation with bad-for-you-foods ... I gladly accept - next week is a new week, and I'm too exhausted to cook!) and have been too...

Well, I just got home from seeing Hank III, and I must say I had a very excellent time. Unlike my good friend Asia , I did stay for the assjack show in its entirety, so maybe I can weigh in on that side of things. Though what can you say, really? They kick ass. (jack) I haven't let quite that far loose in a long time. My inner former jr. high punk rock self came back to say hello for an hour or two. Okay, granted, I was on the edge of the pit shoving them back in, instead of in the middle of it myself - but then again, I was wearing pink suede pumps so ... some things do change, I guess. I wanted to be in there though. And I probably will have whiplash tomorrow. I forgot just how cathartic that whole experience is. The energy. The release. The only place in the world where violence is friendly. The way everyone stops and steps aside if someone loses their glasses ... or hastily hoists up the fallen so they don't get trampled ... or lovingly elbows their neighbor in the face ....

Sunday evening I was in the midst of one of my rare cleaning frenzies, and I was trying to finish up the vacuuming before I headed off to work. I my haste, I got caught up in the cord of the antique brass standing lamp in the living room and it wobbled hesitantly, then decided to go on ahead and topple over as I watched ... It crashed down and I had that suspended in a moment hope that the thick translucent hobnail glass shade would prove to be strong and sturdy and by some miracle not break. No such luck. I numbly vacuumed up the gleaming white shards with tears in my eyes ... Then I carefully unscrewed the base and quietly put the lamp in the closet. We bought it on a whim - not even knowing if it was in working order - at one of the first auctions we attended together. Back when the world was fresh and new, and we were fresh and new, and time and pain and disillusionment had not yet taken their toll on us ... It turned out that when we got it home, it didn't work. At first. But ...

Dating sucks again. I give up. For really real this time. I know this is gonna sound trite, but I'm holding out for someone who is enthralled by me in all my gloriously idiosyncratic uniqueness and appreciates all that I have to give and who can give me what I need, too. The rest of the game is just rubbish and bs and mental and emotional exhaustion and frankly - prefiero estar a solas que en mala compañia. I'm moving in a year hopefully anyway. I'll start over when I start over. M

Si*Sé finally has a new album coming out!!!! You can also hear songs from the old and new albums here . Uh-huh, uh-huh-uh-huh, uh-huh! Just had to jump for joy. M

I always try really hard to make friends with a praying mantis whenever I happen to meet one, because they freak me out so very, very much. Sometimes I think maybe this very dynamic is a metaphor for the way I live my life. Of course, I'm fond of exaggeration and generalizations. M

Okay - here are the two things (cool, or not so cool, depending) about the point I'm at in my running currently: #1 every mile I run could qualify as a so-called "junk mile." #2 there is no such thing as a "bad run" ... Even if I backslide, which I did today. My heart was just not in it. Everything in my being did NOT want to be out there today. My feet were just not beneath me. I was heaving at it from up in my sinus cavity. Of course it is 100 degrees out right now ... and I have had this totally obnoxious cold thing that won't become an actual cold, and won't go away ... it just sits there in my head somewhere, threatening. But it's okay, because even though I went back in time, I was still out there. I made myself be out there and do it. Every time I run, something gets stronger in me. It's the one and only thing in my life I've ever done wholly and completely for myself - with absolutely nothing to prove to anyone except myself. ...

Okay - I'm alive! I made it out of academic quarantine, I got my work done, and I'm freeeeee! So now more will be revealed. I promise. Thanks for waiting, dear friends. All 4 of you! But first, many dishes must be washed and many stairs vacuumed and many clothes put away and the like. However, I will leave you with these few morsels to tide you over in the meantime: 1. Dating suddenly starts to do the complete opposite of sucking! 2. I did it! I ran the whole 30 minutes (almost 3 miles) straight!!!!!!!!!!!! 3. This site TOTALLY kicks ass. 4. I'm dancing around in the kitchen in my underwear to The Chambers Brothers, and there's not a damn thing anyone can do about it! M

So I was sitting with my tired feet being gurgled in the bubbling jets of a cheap vietnamese manicure shop pedicure chair when I look over to see some preppie chick giving the pedicure girl a hard time. She was apparently unhappy with the level of exfoliation her stupid tootsies had recieved. Fine. Well, first of all, you are paying for what is the equivalent of a happy meal in the scheme of the grand pedicure menu, bitch, so what do you want? But beyond that ... Her tone was so disdainful and contemptuous, and the pedicure gal handled it so graciously ... Just looking at her sitting there at the feet of this ho-bag, massaging her callouses with the pumice stone one more time, trying to get it right, to make the girl happy, I was SHAKING in anger by the time the whole scene played out and the check was practically THROWN at the poor woman. SHAKING. I mean, okay - you're unhappy with the services you received. You complain. Acceptable. Fine. But for fuck's sake you can speak to ...

1. Periodically throughout my life, I've been utterly freaked out by the concept of fruit flies. Where do they come from? Are they just hiding somewhere all along - like giant robot alien machines, buried secretly and awaiting activation by the proper conditions? Yeeeeeachhhh. 3. I have a lovely little wooden rainbow pinwheel standing in the pot of one of the plants that's sitting on the bookshelf below the window in the room that is my office/sunroom. I must've put it in just the right place last time I dusted or whatever because at the moment, it is a spiiiinnnnnin'! It's really pretty and it makes me smile. What nice sight to wake up to. 4. The reason you haven't heard any whiny laundromat sagas lately is because I've decided to start sending it out. I didn't want to tell you because I was afraid it would make me sound way too bourgie. 5. I'm not - I'm totally not, you have to trust me. 6. I just hate doing laundry with a passion that s...

I kick major ass. I just have to say. I ran today. I ran a lot. And then something priceless and extraordinary happened. It went like this: I ran a lot, I ran my goal. I made my goal, and it was time to rest (and I could finally stop barking into my own inner ear, "You can rest when you're dead, soldier!") - and time to put hands on thighs and slow to a walk and pant and wipe the sweat from my brow, exhilirated and pumped and a little more proud than is humble at having reached my goal. It was time for that, but I didn't stop and do all that. I just kept going. And going. And going. And all of the sudden I was just running because I love it. No more pushing myself. No more watch checking. No more second counting and convincing and enduring and triumphing. Just running. I found the fabled 'zone.' Hot damn! M

Okay ... so Asia tagged me a gajillion eons ago and I finally got around to doing this thingy (procrastination, anyone?) - I'm just doing it off the top of my head - ask me tomorrow and the answers may well have changed. You're stuck inside Fahrenheit 451. Which book do you want to be? This is tricky. I think I’d have to say I’d need to be … The Communist Manifesto! Have you ever had a crush on a fictional character? Why, Holden Caulfield, of course! (Then I actually ended up dating him in college – that didn’t end up so well, as you might imagine.) The last book you bought is? It's been a while since I've bought any books - I tend to not want to collect books unless I know I'll read them again and again. My most recent purchases, however: Conscious Breathing by Gay Hendricks, PhD. (changed my life) Living to Tell the Tale (first volume of Garcia Marquez' memoirs) Panther in the Basement by Amos Oz. What are you currently reading? Vol...

Also, I ended up going to see War of the Worlds last night. It was Spielberg. It was War of the Worlds. It was what one might expect of the juxtaposition of the two. I can't really think of anything more profound or revealing to say about it. He wasn't in love. It was no Close Encounters. But it's worth seeing. The aliens are good. Cruise has a line in the first scene that can so easily be construed as being about his own personal life that I was sitting there cracking up heartily in the middle of the darkened, silent theater. It was embarrassing and really hilarious all at once. I got the giggles and almost couldn't stop. M

I've been busy doing lots of stuff lately, but unfortunately none of it is stuff I really, really, really need to be doing. I have seriously little time to get a lot of work done before a deadline, and for some reason I'm in denial about it. Utter denial. I keep thinking something will just jolt me out of it somehow. But no, it doesn't happen. But it will. Right? Won't it? Anyway ... I've been busy sending press releases and making flyers and having meetings about Bill of Rights stuff, so that's good. I mean, it's important work too. It's just ... not ... homework. But won't I get extra credit if I save the world? Oh well ... and I ran, and ran an ran an ran today. And that felt good. But I had to dodge lots of firecrackers and happy slurpy dumb puppies and together-y families and barbecue smoke and my own heavy sense of alone-ness. Dammit. Stupid holidays anyway. There's a 5K tomorrow ... and I was thinking of doing it ... but I don'...

Dating sucks. Dating sucks. La la la la la la la la. Dating sucks. Just had to get it off my chest fot the umpteenth time. I'm done. I quit. I'm becoming a recluse. In other news ... I have too much work to do, and not enough time or motivation to do it. I didn't go running today because it's a bazillion degrees out and humid and I just didn't FREAKIN' FEEL LIKE IT! I ate pizza for dinner like a heathen hedonist, and now I'm gonna go lay on the couch and either watch crappy TV or read a fluffy pointless chick lit novel and commence becoming a hermit/vegetable because for no particular reason I'm exhausted. And no one is gonna say a word about it! Got it! Also, I need to get over my luddite technophobe tendencies and buy a freakin' DVD player already - because there isn't a single freakin' thing I can get on "videocasette tape" anymore at Blockbastard. What is the world coming to?!???!!!? It's passing me by. I'm 29 yea...

Tonight someone told me that I don't accept myself. I said to them that the defects we recognize in other people are often those we want to avoid in ourselves. But I said it in Spanish and it sounded a whole lot bitchier. M

I was thinking maybe I should change my profile picture. I look so hot up there with that scarf on in the warm laziness of this June sunshine. I can't believe I let my blog's birthday pass by without doing a thing to celebrate it! Of course, I've missed several other non-virtual anniversaries lately, so it's not surprising. I'm in this sort of tricky suspended social holding pattern where I know there are people I should be in touch with, but the awkwardness of making that first call or writing that letter or email seems too daunting. It's as though the joy of closeness is too much a risk. I love people. I love them too much. If I don't stay in touch, maybe they'll just fade away and live forever in my memory instead of dying in a car crash or of just plain' ol' old age. People that I'd once resigned myself to having lost, they appear again, rising from the ashes ... and then I'm supposed to make dates for coffee with them and get to know...

I think I freaked enough about turning 29 that 30 is going to be much more of a breeze than I'd anticipated. I'm starting to get what they say about what it is to be in your thirties. I'm starting to understand what it is to really not care what anyone thinks - least of all the raging critic in my head. I think he's due for retirement sometime soon here. I had that brief moment of sheer utter panic and dismay when it hit me that I would never be as taut and fresh and perky and dewy and scintillating again as I may have once been ... then I got over it. I was shocked to even ever have had that moment in the first place. I'm even more starkly floored that I got past it. That would have been an ugly way to live any more of the moments of my life, for sure. I spent an awful lot of time figuring out what it was I didn't want for and of my life. And don't get me wrong, that was important work that had to be done (as awkward and painful as the process was), but ...

Reminder to self - tell the lovely readers about: JWQ and his inevitable decline - AKA a terrible waste of a brilliant mind. Shocking! The greasemonkey and the fixing cars shirt. Post office adventuring. $2.00 worth of scallops. Lizard eyes. My rage about the kids and the drugs and my precious H. The REAL STORY. Best.Haircut.Ever Worst.Date.Ever Square pegs, round holes, or maybe just two round holes ... To be continued, to be announced ... M

1. I killed the begonia. 2. It was only a matter of time. 3. Dating still sucks. 4. I hate trying to read minds - step up or step off - ya know? 5. I drank my dinner (I'll let you speculate on that one). 6. I want the new Black Eyed Peas album and I don't care what you think. 7. Same goes for the new Shakira album. 8. Have you seen her video ? 9. It's hot. 10. So is Alejandro Sanz. 11. No sólo de pan vive el hombre y no de excusas vivo yo. 12. Word to your mother! 13. My goal is to run a 10K by my birthday. 14. My calves hurt again. 15. I need to slow my ass down. 16. Ani D. 's new album is pretty kickass. 17. It reminds me of Suzanne Vega for some reason. 18. It's raining like a MF today. 19. It makes me sigh big. 20. I was supposed to do yoga today. 21. And a whole bunch of other stuff. 22. But I didn't. 23. Maybe I'll still do some yoga . 24. I'm all about the links for some reason tonight. 25. That's it. M

I've spent way too much time cracking up over this site . Now I have to go to bed. M

I gotta write. I gotta come here. I gotta say it. Gotta say somethin'. Make it real. Make it mine. Make use of this energy. Make use of this life. Do something before it's too late to do anything or be. I press my cheek against the window looking out at the rain and I realize that maybe my melancholy sense of longing is all I'll ever be. Maybe that's why I flail and float and hide and whisper and never make things happen or step out off the edge and look for the parachute in my backpack or figure out how to love or live right. Because what would happen if I could just name that thing the yearning ache thing in the chest just small and hollow enough to insert a probing fingertip into? What if I could put something in it and it would be sated and whole and at rest at long-god-damned-last? Then what would I do? Then where would I go? Then who and what and why and HOW dammit - how ... would I be? Anymore. M

So there's this scene in my favorite movie, The Fisher King, where Mercedes Ruehl's and Amanda Plummer's characters are having a tequila loosened chat about life and love, etc. And Amanda Plummer's character blurts out, "You know, I've never really been though a dating ... period." And Mercedes Ruehl responds, "It's a disgusting process; you haven't missed a thing ." And that's pretty much the entirety of my feeling on the matter at the moment. M

Well my cold is almost gone. I just keep having to have a constant supply of tissues at hand and I'm still struck with embarrasing bouts of coughing to beat the band, but overall I'm on the mend. I figure it must be summer comin' cos: 1. Someone kissed me the other night. 2. I'm giddily sleep deprived. 3. My hair is getting super boing boing curly. 4. My skin is that nice uncomfortably but comfortingly warm from gettin' tan. 5. I'm listening to a lot of Frankie Ruiz and am obsessed with figuring out how to dance salsa on 2 again. 6. My neverending search for the perfect pair of black strappy sandals is renewed. 7. There's nothing in my fridge and I'm living on smoothies and Earl Grey and I'm fine with that. 8. Someone bought me another Begonia to kill! Hoooooooooooooooooo RAY!!!!! M

Man, I never seem not to have a cold or some such something. My head feels like a balloon that's been rubbed on one too many heads and stuck to the wall and then sort of lost some of its air and the skin is all sort of wrinkly and limp from being slightly deflated. I've been on autopilot just zooming through the past two weeks of school and all the crazy personality crap and major personnel upheavals and people being bitchy and absent and otherwise disengaged from one another and their jobs and the purpose at hand. I am too fuzzed out to care that I'm indifferent to the fact that there are a million and one things I could do better and am not but I just want to get done and rest and start fresh next year - with better plans, and the energy and focus and centeredness to carry them out - and hopefully less people futzing around with my space, cluttering my way. That's the hope. Hope springs eternal when the sun is shining and the wind keeps blowing the shades against the ...

sitting at a table with old loves there's the one who loved me so much it was dangerous the one who just didn't love me enough and the one whom I couldn't love enough - though I tried and every one in between and I'm like william h. macy's character in Magnolia ... I have so much love to give, but I just don't know where to put it where do I put the big roiling sea of my heart where do I put this gigantic wonder of the world and tears and the things I'd talk with you about 'till dawn the ache of love the ache of beauty the ache of alone I just sit and stare out the window at the rain thinking, "But ..."

I've arrived at long last in order to provide you with some alternate stimulation (the beets were just sitting there, bleeding, for weeks, I know). I can't promise it will be any more interesting than stationary bleeding beets, though. In fact, I can pretty much guarantee you that it won't be. But thanks for stopping by anyway! I'm sitting in my robe, eating granola and drinking tea - per my usual routine. I'm contemplating a run but I'm awfully tired and it never goes well when I approach it from that state of being, so maybe not. I'm up to half and half (running/walking), so that feels good. My knee still bugs me now and again, so I'm not sure what the deal is there. That doesn't feel good, incidentally. The birds are twittering and the sun is dappling and baby things are here and people are falling in love and all the proper spring things are happening. I feel like myself again. Winter really kills me. I have to move to California. That's it ...

Did 12/23 - run/walk today - 2.5 miles. I laced up tighter and paid attention to my footstrike and form more closely. No knee pain a'tall. There is absolutely no way the weather could be more beautiful today. It's a deep cleansing breath kinda day. I saw my first robin. He looked like a little boy with a faux-hawk hairdo. He was cute and tough and ready for spring. A very tiny puppy chased me heartily for a few blocks, followed by two laughing, apologetic boys. Lucky for that puppy that I run so slow! In other news, I'm weary of people. I don't like it when people call me and rant on about something someone else did but refuse to consider my suggestion that they address their concerns directly to the offending individual in question. I know I'm not the patron saint of interpersonal communication myself, but this kind of shit just wears my soul out. M

This morning I did 11/24 - run/walk - about 2.5 miles. Yeep! The new years resolutionaries have hung up their earmuffbands, so I've got the trails back to myself again. Did you think I'd given up? C'mon - I can't let those $100 shoes go to waste now, can I? It wasn't as excruciating as I feared it might be. I wimped out toward the end, but my knee was bugging me ... plus I didn't want to push myself too hard so soon out of the gate again. I'd like to stick with this, if at all possible. I'm so terrible at sticking with things, generally. Well, some things. Other things I'm quite good at sticking with. Lately I'm into summarily dismissing people from my life who don't treat me with respect. It feels good. Like taking a cold shower after a sauna. I'm also wanting to listen to tiki lounge music and drink more red tea. I've just discovered red tea. I like the other colors of tea quite well - green, white, and even black from t...

I'm on break. Wow do I need a break. I just ate two bowls of my favorite raspberries and cream granola that I get from the co-op and had a cup of green and red tea mixed together. It's rainy and chilly and shiver you to your bones-ish and I'm sneezing and my throat acts like it wants to hurt. So ... I took some nasty tasting Echinacea/Goldenseal tincture and I'm just going to take one guilt free do nothing day and go turn the heat up and snuggle under two (count-em two!) blankets and lay on the couch and see if there is anything on my three channels or maybe read a magazine and try not to get sick because I have a week off and I can't be sick I have STUFF TO DO! Wish me luck! M

Another wacky self-portrait ... 

I would have been back sooner, but I got my head sucked into a bucket and I'm still trying to yank it out. I've been sort of squished and molded into something frighteningly unlike me. Something I don't for the life of me have any way of recognizing. I'm trying to unfold myself and push out the wrinkles and the bends and the sleeves pushed up and back and all wrongway. When I start to get it sorted out - finally begin to see a bit of the me that there was before - something recognizable beginning to take shape, but still damaged, irrevocably altered - I gasp in unprepared shock and horror to see the gaping tattered edged eviscerated hole in the stomach of the sweater that was my self. I'm pissed. I'm not holding it together well. I need ammunition. But I'm soft. And quite fucking alone in it. M

This is what I would have said to the bitchy Gap girl yesterday when she was all bitchy to me as I tried to return some pants: "Lady, you're a manager at the GAP . Dial it back a few clicks fashionista ." Cue derisive scowl - disgusted exit ... and ... SCENE.

Hellman reminded me that I should show you all my newest kicks. Click on photo for a larger image if you are so inclined. I just had to post this shot (and not a closer-up one) because in it you can also see the fire truck that drove away moments later. The reason for the fire truck sitting outside my window is that there is a house burning down around the corner. I saw all the trucks coming when I pulled up after work... all the neighbors were starting to porchlook and even meander down the sidewalk aways to congregate across the street and watch... what? Watch a house burning down, and the fire guys trying to stop it, I guess. I must admit I got caught up in the hysteria for a moment - but hysteria is the wrong word, 'cos it was wierdly quiet as I gritty crunched across the muddy snowmelty curb and stepped between all the trucks and cop cars with spinning silent lights... over the fat giant firehose in the middle of the street... and paused at the end of the corner, ke...

I should be leaving for work now, but I'm sitting in a towel drinking chai thinking, "I should be leaving for work now..." Last night I had yet another opportunity for a fish burrito (you have to try one, Murph, then you'll understand what I mean), but I declined. I did, however, have some Pad Thai shrimp and subsequently attempt to convince myself after feeling tingly lips (probably the chili sauce) and dizziness (?) that I have developed a shellfish allergy. But I'm okay now. Okay... I'm going to work now. M

I had a dream that someone I care about threw a loosely packed handful of snow in my face because of some perceived insult. My mom was standing there and she was appalled. I couldn't figure out how to explain it or make it right. Shortly thereafter, I had another dream in which my brother called me up at some odd hour sounding sodden, and informed me that he'd taken the school credit card out of my wallet and used it to buy large quantities of ??? something untoward. Again - I couldn't figure out how to explain it or make it right. Wait! Why the hell is it ME that needs to explain or make anything right? In other news - I need to stop eating pizza and fish burritos and drinking horchata and get up and move my ass. Thanks Dana , for this inspiration! M

1 - I just found out about these guys , and got their CD - they kick ass. 2 - My brother is an asshole, and I'm never speaking to him again.

I don't know what the hell happned. I got sucked into some dark place where I forgot myself again. I'm trying to suck my feet out of some evil relationship quicksand and move on again. I don't know where my head is at. But I have to write. I have to do something. Thanks Blade for inspiring me to just keep on keeping on with this blog. Someday I'll have something interesting to say here. Until then... I'm back, for what it's worth. And no, I haven't been running, either. I'm going to start again when all the new years resolution people give up. The trails are just too crowded with their tights and earmuffbands. M

(click on photo for larger image - if you dare!) So I just had to make my way down 2 1/2 blocks of slippy slippy sidewalks this morning to document the horror after seeing it while driving home from work. Anyone care to suggest a title?

New Years was sort of a bust. I almost had to work. Then when I found out I didn't have to work at the last minute, it was too late to do anything cool. So I yanked my brother out of a lame party and we headed downtown only to be standing outside in the cold at midnight waiting to get into a stupid club we didn't end up going to. We went to another club instead, the one where I normally go to dance salsa. Bad idea. The new non-public-smoking-ban-ordinance-thing went into effect on Jan. 1 - so the short fat redneck bouncer kid (sort of a miniature of the fat redneck biker bouncer guy that normally works the door there - I think they might be related) decides to get brave with my shortest littlest Napoleonic complex wielding brother and tries to shove him out after not giving him 3 seconds to put out the cigarette he'd just ordered him to put out - like 45 minutes after said ban-thing went into effect! Needless to say, lots of bravado and "No, don't, it's n...