Okay. let's go. Dec.30, 2007.
I hope that Dec. 30, 2008, finds me in a different place, a better place and by that I don't mean dead or unemployed. I feel I have to qualify or else the universe will use the opportunity to fuck me - "You didn't specify where you wanted to be."
I just watched "No Country for Old Men." Damn.
Every time I let Randy pick the movie I always say I won't let him pick the next one and then I let him and No Country for Old Men is what happens."
Shit.
Cormack McCarthy, All the Pretty Horses, made into a movie years ago. I never saw it. I guess I'm familiar with his work, just his name.
Right now, about all I can say is "WTF."
Often after seeing movies made from books, I want to read the book. I do not think I want to read this book. Tommy Lee Jones is the aging sheriff who is "overmatched," by today's evil. Josh Brolin is the real cowboy. and boy howdy, would I like to see his boots under my bed.
Woody Harrelson, what a cameo. One hell of a quickie role with a bang of an ending.
That fucking Javier Bardem. A trail of bodies, kind of like the crumbs left by Hansel and Gretel but more as sign posts of what the fuck to stay away from. Yeow!!!
Why do people write stuff like tihs? and why do people like it? I told RAndy that movies are supposed to have happy endings (in this case, this guy really needed killing) because life does not have happy endings. Movies, and books, help us bear life.
Randy said he thought I liked suspense movies and this was a suspenseful movie. It was also full of violence, which I do not like, blood and guts, also don't like the worst bad guy (one reviewer said he could give Hannibal Lecter lessons on coldbloodedness) I've seen in a long time. And he apparently walks away in the end, leaving as noted above the said crumbs.
I wanted tommy Lee to kill him. And what the fuck was that dream stuff about the dad going ahead to prepare the place. Was that god coming into the sheriff's life, like he expected would happen?
And what was this story about? Tommy Lee? Or Anton? and I wonder what he has been in? I've never seen him, that Spanish actor.
Maybe if I read the book, more things would be clear, although I have a feeling that the Cohen brothers were very true to the book.
I didn't get any morality from the story. Was that what the story was about? Don't nothing matter and what if it does?
The whole story made me sad; is that what the story was?
Do people live despite the nihilism? Or because of it? Or is it our natures, which are programmed to survive, almost no matter what?
"You don't' have to do this."
Everybody says that, says Anton. when he goes to kill people, and takes his time, they say to him that he doesn't have to do it.
Everybody wants to live. Even if "don't nothing matter and what if it did?"

I never look better or happier than when I'm with the baby.
and how, I ask, could I not be?
even outside red lobster with my parents. Life is good, no two ways about it.

I was driving home on Knickerbocker and a bird of prey swooped out of some growth on my left and flew down the road for a bit until cutting into a heavily wooded lot on my right. though it was quick and the bird's back was to me, I saw the tail of a rodent type creature gripped in either the bird's beak or claws.
It was most impressive, though. In fact, it was awesome. It was nature in its purest form and I was lucky enough to witness it in the heart of the city.
Soon, though the bird's habitat as well as that of the bird's prey will bull dozed for "progress." New homes in a neighborhood that 15 or so years ago, Realtors tried to call something else to diminish the negative connotations that came with the hood.
Now, today, it is THE spot. People are coming in, gentrifying homes, driving out the poor,original residents, greedy developers are snatching up pieces of property and building houses on top of each other. And long time residents are looking to make a buck by selling a house they paid $28,900 for in 1985 for close to $1 million, yes that is a one with six Zeros, today.
My house is on a double lot: I could sell part of my back yard and someone could build a house in my back yard.
That ain't happening until they wheel my cold, dead body out of this house and my daughter does not want it.
then, I'll have no control or interest in it at that point.
Well, it's a beautiful day in the neighborhood, I think I'll go visit my mom and see her new house.

Elwood and Elphaba practice their unique brand of yoga
Oh sweet swami, you had me at warrior II


I had a most excellent yoga experience tonight. And strangely enough, all the odds were against a good time.
First, the Y is being renovated around us so now we are in a smaller place where the acoustics are horrible and it's either too hot or too cold. Then the instructor was a stand-in. They all have their own routines and it's sometimes good to mix it a bit, shakes you out of complacency but routine is also freeing, knowing what comes next means not having to look up frequently to see what the teacher is doing (sometimes because you can't hear), so you can concentrate on breathing and mediating into the pose.
So she had us in warrior II, (I fell down twice, I don't think I've ever fallen down) and I was grumbling to myself about I couldn't hear, it was too damn hot and viola, I had an extreme warrior experience. I had balance throughout the pose, I felt the strength and the breadth of warrior. hips squared, shoulders stacked over hips, feet in a line and weight evenly distributed. Yowza!
Same thing pretty much with triangle. Normally triangle is one of my favs, I get a lot out of it, a good back pop, open chest, strength supporting the upper body with the upper body. Lately triangle has been rough, it felt awkward, uncomfortable.
Today, great triangle. I got that lower back with about five or six lumbar pops, poppoppoppop mmmm :)
I even came home feeling energetic and strangely positive. Accomplished some boring but necessary chores around the crib when lately I've been coming home, heading to the bed.
Sweet good night to those out there in the black hole. I know you are out there, maybe you are reading my stuff when it's sucked out into the ether of the net. It is as if I just jettison the stuff out into cyberspace, no ticket home, no GPS mapping, just out there on its own, on the strength of its words, to live or die.
alas.

Gulf Coast, Florida
June 2007
annual family vacation
mom/daughter tour

This is the huge, sloppy blog of a beer swilling, gum popping , root showing red head.

Right now I’m all sad from watching Candy, a heroin addict movie filmed in new wales or Australia, some where down under, with that gloriously beautiful, yummy Heath Ledger.

I watched it in installations, I couldn't watch it straight through and run the gamut of my emotions - irritation, disgust, envy, heart break, anguish, loss, pain and more. Hmm. where are the positive words? Did I have some? Hmm.

So watching something in pieces gives me a chance to think, make predictions, form opinions, experience some emotions, all of which may change in the next piece watched.

But overall, it left me bereft, hurt, stifling sobs,

Why do they make movies like that? What is the point? Just to make me feel? Shouldn't there be resolution no matter what the start?

Or is it catharsis? Is it to make me cry hard, weep, get that hiccupy breath that comes from trying to keep the huge sobs from busting loose?

Again, if so, what is the point?

And movies, like short stories. I don’t like hanging at the end. I want resolution! I want an ending of the story, good or bad.

Did they have a love affair with each other? Was it the heroin? Was he the brave one for sending her packing, all with love, ugly, at the end?

Was the point that such a great love cannot exist without destroying what itself?

Look too close to the flames you feel the warmth, the heat feels good. Suddenly the burning sears, you scream, pull back?

What the fuck, basically.

The V*******s, 13 years, two children, professional jobs, no drinking or drugs. Straight types, the social one drink. Even before marriage when hanging out, none of that.

Divorce, the husband attempts suicide as manipulation, throws cans of food in the kitchen with the eight year old present. Verbal abuse, cruel words.

What the fuck?

Who is better off? Candy and Dan or Eric and Laurie?

Who loved greater or better, or not at all? Is the whole fucking thing a sham?

What the fuck, it’s all I can think of, it just seems to fit this huge, ginormous mystery that at middle age, with 30 years of relationships behind me, I cannot figure out. I seem to have even less understanding than I did yesterday or the day before that.

Romance, attraction, hurt, pain, anger, sadness, how far apart are these words?

Like the other side of the mirror?

Only the young can act in movies like that and not be affected. No wait, there are older people who are not affected. It is pretense, all. And for some, it is the center of self and the belief that could never happen to (them) because they would never allow it or they don’t care or they are in control, or whatever story of the day works.

Who else is this sad and alone? And do they join together just to keep the wolves at bay? To keep the sadness and aloneness from creeping in under the door and in on the cat’s fur?

Do they make choices out of fear?

Bruce and Dena?

Laurie and Eric?

Terri and Jim

Mimi and Poppa?

Donnu and Whitey?

Greg and Cris?

Dave and ???

Bill and ???

Are we driven by desire or fear? Or when does one become the other? Are they age related?

Desire rules as long as the flesh is firm? Then fear takes over but wears other colors? Ambition? Greed? Selflessness? Community volunteers? Altruistic jobs? Or just fucking jobs? Yard work? Pets?

Delusions – good or bad - discuss

Illusions – same as delusions? How can you tell?

Gulf Coast, June 2007.
Nothing directly to do with the post but I like the photo and it's all related.

I want to edit the last post but I can't get to it. I seems like it's been edited because some of the text looks like it's been cut and pasted incorrectly.
This is the third entry about breaking off a friendship with the same person. And like I said last time, I think this is the last time but that's what I said last time so . . .
but this might be it. I managed to get out a few of the thoughts I've developed since the previous fight. And I've been able to look back at this one clearly and see, clearly how I was more in the wrong place at the wrong time than in the wrong.
I usually write her long, thoughtful emails after such "discussions," but this time I did not. And I also blocked her from my buddy list and moved her photograph (We're not gay). But I've had it with making excuses for someone who does not know how to be a friend. The irony is that she told me several months back that she was a better friend than I am. She thinks because she is spontaneously generous and will come pick you up if your car breaks down, she's a better friend.
Once she made me take her to a guy's house, he was an out of town construction worker living in an apart. He was married and had asked her to come over earlier that night but she declined. After a night of drinking and dancing she decided she would go.without calling. When we arrived I asked her if she wanted me to wait until she got in, she said no, go on. I warned her. I said be sure because I am not going to come back and get you. It's about 2 a.m. and I've been drinking quite a bit and I don't want to expose myself to DUI arrest. She later cited that as one of the ways I've let her down in the past. Not one consideration about the consequences of being arrested for DUI. I could lose my job, my car, and who knows what else. But I was selfishly putting myself first when she needed me, because it turned out to be a big mistake to drop in on the guy because it pissed him off and he made her feel bad about herself and she was stuck there. Yet note she was not driving that night because she wanted to drink. She didn't want to drink and drive, she wanted me to.
but I've made excuses for her because of her horrible childhood. Raised by an abused mother with five or six children and an alcoholic father who beat everyone in the family. they lived in the projects in atlanta and were dirt poor. she quit school when she was 16 or so. She raised herself and had to love herself and that's hard to do on both counts. So I've focused on her good points, and she does have them. But I'm through. I will not be shouted down by someone who is in a horrible mood and is determined to control the conversation and say what she wants and then actually force me to keep quiet. No, f-ing way.
The only time a friend is a good friend to her is when that friend is doing what she wants her to do. She will not do things she deems boring with a friend and then berates a friend who won't go dancing with her as a someone who does not want to spend time with her. So the friendship is on her terms. It's not me she wants to spend time with, it's me that she wants to accompany her while she searches for whatever it is that she is looking for. There's none of the give and take of a friendship like. Me: I don't feel like dancing, what about movies? Her: okay, what about movie and then dinner after? Me: Okay.
No, it', Her: I want to go dancing, you don't want to go dancing. Okay, well I'll guess I'll stay home or I'll call someone else.
Anyway that's what I told her. She was a manipulative, self-centered bitch and I think that might just be the straw that broke the back of this decades old bond.

color sets mood. color me bruised. At least my psyche, any way.

So I am trying to get a pix with my blog. I took this myself with my digital camera. Fitting I guess since I am the only one who sees this blog.
I like the picture okay. The bangs are a bit, I don't know what they are. Stringy I suppose.
But the face looks okay. I can tell that the shape of my face is a narrow oval. kind of long.
for so many years I've read magazines that tell you how to pick out glasses, pluck your eyebrows, wearing earrings, part your hair, all based on the shape of your face. And they've had examples, sketches and real life ones.
They have had tips on how to determine your face shape: look in a mirror and take soap and trace your face shape.
I never could get it figured out. But now, with the digial camera and taking my own close ups I can see the shape of my face.
It's not so bad. All these years, I've let the media, my peers and others tell me where I fell short. and not liking myself.
Sigh. Life is topsy turvey. Then, when I had a fairly smoking bod, I hated it, despised it, punished it, covered it up, abused it.
Today, about 25 pounds heavier than I was at my skinniest, I take care of my body. I exercise, I eat right, sorta of, and I am now flaunting the old bod. I wear tight shirts and pants. I wear short skirts and low cut blouses.
So what if there's a little overhang at the waistline? So what if there is broken capillary here or there or a wrinkled hand or age spots on the legs.
It's all I've got and it's served me well. It gave me my beautiful daughter. It gives me satisfying yoga classes. Hell, it even attacts the occasioanal guy. So I'm working on changing my attitude.
Today is the fourth of july. I'm off work, sitting here at home with nothing to do, nowhere to go. Mostly my own fault though,
And now it's 3 pm and I suddenly feel like i've run out of time. I need to call my dad and apologize to him and see if he wants to do something. if he does, i have run out of time, if he doesn't, then I've got some time. I just need to make a list of things and then go at them.
I think I'll save this blog and address it later. it's kindof weak and disjointed

GOD IS A TREE? OR IS GOD IN THE TREES

I was reading an article about Albert Einstein in Time magazine last night. His thoughts on religion really hit home with me and my recent years of thinking about this issue.
I have it figured for an innate part of humans; the desire to know who made us, why are we here, what is our purpose?
Einstein saw God in the laws of nature that he said our small minds could barely comprehend.
For sometime now I've been considering the Christian faith, in which I was raised. I've been wrestling with profession of faith in a religion that to my mind is exclusive and persecuting (not a word but I can't think what I want right now). I haven't felt superior enough to say, 'If you don't believe like I do, if you don't accept that the only way to god is through Jesus, then you are going to hell."
argues that he perceives that pretty much sends the majority of the world to hell because Christians are a minority religion. My friend daveChristianity from the new testament as a loving, embracing religion. And there is that side of it.
but just last night watching the religion channel on cable (I only have 2 through 13, what are ya gonna do?), I watched an enactment of a handsome as hell father telling his precious son how people chose to die for christ in the days after the Resurrection. The boy asked if they wanted to die and the dad said no, but they had to make a hard choice: accept jesus as their savior, shed their mortal coil and live forever, or be damned forever.
now that says it in a nutshell.
But how can God who made all things only single out a handful of her creation for her blessing?
I believe in a higher power and I believe it is too vast for us, or most of us anyway, to conceptualize it. So we develop human forms, jesus, mohammad, buddha, to create a bridge for us to communicate and understand god. I guess it's human nature to want to think that my way is the right way. after all what are wars about? Domination of one's will upon another.
And if it's a defensive war, it's a defense against someone who is trying to dominate and assimilate the other.
history is full of people killing each other over differences. And then there's the fine hair splitting over what is fighting for.
We are in Iraq to help bring them democracy. So what if they don't want it, it's the best damn way in the world to live and by god they are going to have it, if we have to kill them to convince them.
Just as bombing the WTC was the effort of one group to destroy a way of life, different from theirs, one they don't approve on based upon their religion.
So it was exciting to see one of the smartest humans in the world talking about God and nature, and not in a deist way, I don't think he meant religious beliefs must be based on human reason, indeed he disdained human reason as being capable of understanding enough to know, but that nature is proof of God.
I may be simplifying his words, more study is needed for sure.
but it was almost as if it were fated that I should have picked up that Time magazine last night and start reading that article. I usually let the mags pile up and read them at random.

I've got internet cable! Watch out. I'm gonna blog so much that maybe someone will sit up and take notice and respond.
This has been sorta of like being in a black hole. In fact, it's almost worse than being ignored in person!
Gotta, go. Gotta go bowling, an activity i partake of about once every five years.

My September post about breaking up with a long time friend.
Here it is Feb. 2007, and we are still not broken up. I even tried a second time over new year's eve and still she resisted.

I accused her of being one of those girls who puts guys over her girlfriends and she was wounded to the bone.
she called a mutual friend the next day and said, "you won't believe what "elphaba," did to me."
As always, all about her.
She blows me off for new year's eve, after demanding, begging, that we spend new year's together and on the day, she calls and says, as if the previous conversation had never taken place, - you will never guess where (dude) is going to take me tonight."
I'm like, hmm. how conveniently we forget.
any way. . . .

but therre has been some distance, which always makes the heart, if not fonder, well then certainly more tolerant.