Auld Lang Syne, and 2011: Where you been all my life?

It's been a record year. My first full year without my Mom. A new job as a writing tutor at a community college. Derby! A summer in S. Korea, my home away from home. A new screenplay, and some useful notes on the sci fi bequeemoth script I've been writing since 2005. Space: 1999 entered my life in a way I didn't think possible. My long unanticipated return in front of the camera of a student film. Becoming a great auntie for the third time. Meeting Apolo Ohno in person! Seeing the Count Basie Orchestra in concert, a life-long dream. Joining a gym for the first time in my life. Matt Smith as Doctor Who! Spending Christmas in my own home for the first time since I was 23. Adopting Spaz Kitteh! Taking a stand for myself.

I am excited to spend New Year's Eve with my brother for the first time ever (I think, unless I'm forgetting something). This one 2010 has to share with 2011, though.

I have two intentions for the new year. As I've said before, resolutions are for guilt-ridden ex-Catholic school survivors who never feel their best is good enough. Fuck that shit with a rubber hose.

Intention #1: Stop trying to control everything. Thank the Universe for what's coming and don't try to qualify it. This means live in the moment without trying to build some kind of steam punk mirror contraption to see around every corner. It also means taking everything that comes along as an opportunity.

Intention #2: Get back in touch with relatives. After Mom died, I sequestered myself and withdrew from most family contact except for my brother and nephew. Time to reconnect with my lineage.

Happy New Year to you 'uns. Make the most of everything - zero regrets!

Password Debacle

Maybe they don't like that I haven't been here in over a month, or maybe they don't like the fact that I run this off a Yahoo account, or maybe the password was hacked in that debacle earlier this month.

It doesn't matter. They can suck my dream's dick. I'M BACK.

More to come...

Apolo Ohno up close and in person

Can't believe I lost track of posting this! My peeps, it's true, I met Apolo Ohno. Along with 599 other people at the Syracuse University bookstore for approximately 3.2 seconds a couple weekends ago. Here's the proof:

This song has never been more over the top

Funny how lyrics that just seemed "cool" when you're 17 take on a whole new meaning when you're the Meaning of Life, the Universe and Everything (42).

This song has never been more true

Loved it when I was in high school, but these days the lyrics are damned appropriate:

A very tiny fish in a big, blue sea

I'm blogging because my job search is frustrating me to the level that I feel like I'm doing the doggy paddle in the middle of the Pacific. I have no idea if I'm going in the right direction, and it seems whenever I send out a resume, it disappears into the murky black depths, right down there with the mysterious giant squid, never to be seen again. I have no idea if I'm being efficient, if I'm competitive, if there's an icecube's chance in hell that I will get a good fitting position out of this massive effort which is cutting into my writing time in a big way.

I try to visualize me going to work, me doing my work, me coming home to my cute little bungalow, close to the sea. I try to use this as an anchor, but after only a little while of bobbing around the vast internet ocean of job searches, I feel completely inept and without a clue.

This is not a good state of affairs, especially combined with the utter lack of hopefulness I hold out for things here in the City on the Edge of Forever. It's all just so goddamnned depressing.

I just need a lead, a line, a compass, a light in the darkness to help me find my way. I keep asking for it, and it keeps not coming.

If any of you, gentle readers, think you know of a lead you can throw my way, I'd greatly appreciate it. Or, if you have any straight up advice, dish it. I'm ready to hear anything right about now.

I went to the allergist and had the "prick test" done. This is not a test to see if I'm a prick. It's a test that pricks a person's skin with allergens to see whether the allergic response is activated.

I am allergic to these fuckers:


Also teh kyoot Iz ahlerjik too:


And finally, a bunch of tree pollen, like birch and a few others:


Time to get Nazi on the dust mites.

I am shocked - SHOCKED - that I am not allergic to this nasty shit:

Zero Regrets

Apolo Ohno - who as you know is a great inspiration to me, which is odd since I'm not an athlete, but I am someone with a purpose in life, after all - has published his book Zero Regrets. An excerpt from the blurb:

"Zero regrets. It's a philosophy not just about sport but about life. School, business, academics, love—anything and everything. It's complicated and yet not. You have to figure out who it is you want to be. Not what you want to be—who. There has to be a vision, a dream, a plan. Then you chase that with everything you've got."

I tried to buy the book this weekend but the stupid-ass local Bore-derz only got in 1 of the 8 they were supposed to, and of course that one copy flew off the shelf. The lady at the Bore-derz suggested (sotto voce) that I try Barnes & Noble, which I plan to do today. He's going to be in a near-by city next weekend for a book-signing, so I plan to get in line with all the other swooning women to get my copy signed, provided I can find one. I may have to wait and get a copy there, but what if they're sold out?

The philosophy of "Zero Regrets" is one I am trying to live by these days. It keeps me writing and dreaming. Try it on and see if it works for you!

Happy Halloween, Ladies!

Once again, the veil between the worlds is thin, the Other Side is closer than it's been all year, and all we can think about is how to win that costume contest or keep up with the 20-somethings' drinking games.

Last night, Bizarro, J-Net and I went out in costume to see the freaks and the happenings in downtown City on the Edge of Forever. We were early, for starters, so mostly we saw respectable people in respectable clothes just after their wine and tapas. They did not look amused. J-Net flipped them the bird, I vaporized them with my ray gun, and Bizarro would've shrunk their clothes until their buttons popped off with his sonic screwdriver except he left it in the TARDIS.

We finally found a hip place where people were in costume - many homemade and very creative - and happily slurped our Strongbow ciders until we decided to eat. By the time we left to head over to the waffle place, the uptight theatre goers were in bed. The freaky Halloweenists (that moniker via some drunk in one of the towny bars we hit) were out and the vibe was much more relaxed and tinged with anticipation. Ah yes, to be young and in costume on Halloween Eve!

After our snack, we did a little funk-da-fying with a local funk and soul band before completely petering out (because we're old) and heading back to the car. However, the good times kept rolling with J-Net's totally rad cassette tape of Michael Jackson's "Thriller" which we blasted as we drove through the quiet, sleepy streets of the City on the Edge of Forever. It was like being seventeen all over again. Except that we weren't smoking, we stopped at every stop sign, and we were all in bed by 1:00 a.m.

This guy says it all:

The calm before the storm. Mid term stuff is done, and we're heading into that pre-Thanksgiving stretch, after which the shit will hit the fan and academics all across the nation will be going to sleep with a bottle of gin and waking up with a twelver-pot of hi-test coffee. Followed by two weeks of coma.

Things are getting interesting. Not teaching at the Other School on the Hill next semester, and will be getting expanded hours at the tutoring job. Not sure how I feel about all that yet, other than the fact that I'm damn happy to have a job, period.

Some recent realizations of major import:

1. Fear of success stemming from childhood shit that has recently been up in my face and making me realize that I have really been standing in the way of my Awesome Writing Career. More like playing interference against myself.

2. "It doesn't matter where you start; it only matters where you finish." I really love Apolo Ohno for saying this, and for being such an awesome inspiration. I caught his Tweet this morning about being on the Today show, so I tuned in and saw him before going to my 9-hour day at the tutoring center. Really put me in a good mood and helped me get through the day.

3. I don't have to believe everything I think.

4. The Count Basie Orchestra is fucking phenomenal. Saw them live the other night and it made me think how incredibly awesome it must be to create a legacy that lasts for 75 years and in fact outlasts you.

5. Cats can be sluts, too.

Also, I joined Planet Fitness but have yet to go because I got my pehr-ee-odd and couldn't move for a couple days. Will be heading over there this Friday after work. Watch my muscles bulge! I better not grunt or they'll kick me out. How much of a loser one would have to be to get kicked out of a Planet Fitness.

Holy crap it's been over a month since my last post! I'm so sorry. I have no excuse. I am completely excuse-free.

The semester has been rolling along nicely. I have a great screenwriting class, and the tutoring gig is okaaaayyy but I'm seeing far more of the Icky Ucky Slimy Underbelly of Academia than I really care to. Budgets got slashed this year (thank you Governor Paterson), numbers are up, and staff/faculty numbers go down. Awesome. Let's not overload a system that was already at the breaking point! Let's not require the support staff to do more with less for more students. That would be a damn shame if we did that. That would mean the students wouldn't get the support they need, and it would mean that good-meaning folk like myself would get burned out and quit before they can be laid off.

Oh yeah, that's a Happy Fun Ball of Fun, that one.

I digress...

The last month has also seen great strides in a couple of my writing projects, and also the beginnings of a proper job search in Beantown and environs. I'm getting a feel for what's out there, applying for things, and also trying at long last to listen to my intuition and my VOICES FROM THE GREAT BEYOND in case someone's trying to show me a really great job I should apply for.

In all seriousness, I'm not sure if I should continue down the path of academia (which isn't all that easy since I don't have a PhD and the MFA only seems to matter in art skool, but I don't have enough produced work to matter to art skools)...or...get me a 9-to-fiver that will bring in a 401k and a decent paycheck while I write the Great American Space:1999 novel and sell a screenplay or two.

We shall see what the Universe in all its perversity presents me with. For now, it's time to gear up for Halloween and the last derby bout of the season.

Let Autum begin its crisp march down the corridors of Winter's Palace of Frozen Feet and Runny Noses. It's about to get real up in here.

Lake Erie looks so fine in the rain

Greetings from Cleveland, O-hi-o. For the umteenth time I will say that we need Caribou Coffee in the City on the Edge of Forever, where the coffee house culture is worse than lame. It is non-existent. If Cleveland has cooler coffee houses than we do, there is something seriously wrong.

Dear Caribou,

When I go to visit my in-laws, you are my refuge, my shelter in the storm. Your real dark chocolate mochas with 2-percent and no whip are my saving grace on a rainy day in Cleveland. What can I do to convince you to come to my town, where we have only two Charbucks, a Panera in the middle of Consumer Sprawl, a lame bookstore cafe in the mall, and a snooty hipster-ridden local chain whose baristas would sooner spit in my eye than make me a cappuccino? Please, please come home with me! I know I sound like a desperate stalker, but you must understand how much a mocha brightens my life when the sun hasn't shone in days.

Love,
Ms. Bizarro

Doncha worry none!

Looking back on the last few posts, I realize that things may seem to be awfully poopy. Truth is, I'm feeling great. I'm making new waves and looking for new opportunities. I feel like I'm finally ready to make the big leap into...something. Not sure what, yet. Something new is out there for me. A writing career, a new place to live, a new location. The ocean. It's almost time. Meanwhile, I am shaking the last of the crud from my mootsies. I guess that's what the recent posts have been all about.

I have come of age

I've been officially blocked from someone's blog! I guess this means I've made it in the Cyber Information Technology Age of the 21st Century. Now, I know what you're thinking: Ms. Bizarro, what did you do to deserve that? Did you cuss someone out in your comments? Did you stalk them and send lasciviously threatening emails? Did you feed their cats poisoned onions? I almost wish I had done any of those things, because then I'd get why I've been blacklisted from this person's life. Close as I can figure, I've been excommunicated because I forgot a birthday (yes, really). Nevermind this person didn't bother to make it to my mother's funeral (yes, really). But the truth is, at this point, I don't need the rotting pork stinking up the kitchen just when things are getting good. And hey, it's one less label (okay, two less labels) for me to have to worry about blogging.

because I like me a motif

New Semester, New Attitude

The semester is officially underway, and I am officially "in the world but not of it." IOW, I'm not sweating the stupid shit. My sights are on the future, making plans, trying on new ideas for a new way of life. That's right bitches. A. New. Way. Of. Life. That is to say: your shit is your shit, not my shit. Your problems are not my problems unless I agreed to make them my problems in the first place. Nobody owns me. This pretty much sums it up:



(Okay, I'm aware that that isn't a very Buddhist outlook. It's a bit overly-dramatic, but you get the idea.)

There'll be no more of THIS SHIT:


"Neener-neener-neener! My balls are made of iron!"

What the Dark Side really looks like

Star Wars Tai Chi from John Leo on Vimeo.

Why I have an anonymous blog

So I can say this:

I don't wanna fucking tutor and teach. I just want to write. All day. Every day. Maybe do some laundry in there but mostly just writing, schmoozing and taking a dip in the pool when the weather calls for it.

There. I said it.

Too many notes

It has come to my oft-times scattered attention that I do, in fact, have too many blogs. I have this one, plus three non-anonymous blogs: one for writing, one for my film, and one for my pursuit of physical and personal wellness. It occurs to me that as I'm compartmentalizing these aspects of my life, it actually makes things harder. Not only am I trying to update too many blogs, but Blogger is increasingly harsh about me using a Yahoo account to run this one. It's always trying to trick me into signing in with my Google account (from which all the other blogs are run), and it won't let me be signed into both at the same time, so I'm constantly signing out and signing in and signing out and signing in. It's a total pain in my butt.

I am toying with the idea of retiring this blog and sending you all over to my main blog, which would be my writing blog.

However, this blog, being mainly anonymous, is a great place to be stupid and vent spleen. Not something I want to share with potential employers or even present ones, necessarily.

What to do?

Brilliant

Too bad the video goes out of synch 3/4 of the way through. Still brilliant, tho.

Doctor Who Rides Again

P.S. Had to delete unnecessary ellipsis after my title! What is WRONG with me?

A drivel-ly sort of day. Just sort of slunk by, mainly unnoticed save for a couple of small successes (finishing off my syllabus for the Fall semester and sending Chase credit card a big fat check for a GRAND. Yes, as in a thousand U.S. clams).

Other than that, the day made a noise sort of like the T.A.R.D.I.S. wheezing. Only it was all day.

Lately I've noticed a very disturbing trend. I've started to use ellipsis where a comma would do very nicely. This is a horrible habit, as evidenced by some horrible writing that I had a hand in proofreading over the winter months last year. Somehow, I've started doing it myself, and it's truly horrifying. I need to write little sticky notes and place them strategically all over the house to brainwash myself that COMMAS ARE ALL YOU NEED. Ellipsisisises have a very specific use, after all:

I am not a tumbleweed

Well it's finally happened, dear readers. I'm starting to feel at home here in the City on the Edge of Forever. The whining has generally stopped (although, just wait for winter). This year has been filled with awesomesauce - roller derby and Kung Fu/T'ai Chi school, new friends and cool people to hang out with. I've started meditating on a regular basis again, and I've committed to being healthy in body as well as mind and soul.

Also, I have two pretty decent jobs, and I am intent on parlaying one of them into a full-time gig. I am not worrying about anyone else's "stuff" right now; I'm focusing on creating the life I want. This means I am excited about things I haven't been excited about for quite some time. It also means that life in one's forties is a really dynamic time, which is quite the opposite of what I used to think (when I was in my thirties and trying to figure the world out). The good news is that I don't have to figure the world out! I only have to figure myself out, but with grace and not under pressure.

I've realized over the last few days that I've resisted the desire to set in roots (for a number of reasons, most of which stretch back to when I was 10 years old, and I don't want to bore you with all of that now). But in reality, there is no reason to resist this. I am not a tumbleweed, after all.

Next up: more lucrative, creative work, a house or condo to buy, and stronger ankles/knees so I can start skating again. Just watch me!

Simplify, simplify

My new life mantra = simplify. From blog headings to weekly menus to organization systems to my morning routine. This is how it's gonna be from now on. See what living in another country can do for you? In Korea, my existence was very simplified; my living environment was simple, my routine was simple (but never boring). My mind was able to focus and I was able to do everything I needed and wanted. I also felt more at ease with things in general. There was no inner strife and conflict with "I want to do this, but I hafta do that; I need to do that, but I wanna do this." I just did what the moment called for and didn't get stressed over it. Because why stress over things? Nothing's accomplished that way. Heck, even when my travel plans were in the balance and I needed help, I only panicked for a little while - then realized there was no point in hanging on to that feeling. I asked for help, and I got it. Nothing to worry about, really. And that's all about keeping it simple, and trusting the 'Verse.

So...how long can I maintain this outlook on my life? Hopefully it'll be a running theme that will continue to manifest, rather than get buried in the pressure of work and external obligations. Those are the most important times to remember this mantra, in fact. So do me a favor and remind me of this post when in two months I get whiny...

Back on the couch

I have returned from Korea, which you know if you've followed my lame-ass blogging attempts on Adventures of the Jade Monkey. I'm still posting photos of my trip there, so keep checking back.

Today (Sunday) I'm catching up on electronic media consumption and production. This means blogging, organizing photos, and catching up Doctor Who and Mad Men. Re: Doctor Who: OH. MY. GOD. Absolutely stunning. Re: Mad Men: That is some awesome writing. Don Draper is so twisted and pathetic that he's somehow almost sexy. Rodger Sterling is hilarious because he represents a pre-P.C. sense of humor. Still to come: Leverage and the last few eps of Night Gallery that I haven't seen. Bizarro and I started watching the entire series back in the winter/early spring. We're planning to do presentations at the next Rod Serling Conference about Night Gallery, so right now we're watching and re-watching eps for research (and for fun).

Tomorrow I will start attending to business as usual... slowly. One thing at a time, beginning with finances and figuring out who I need to call and what I need to put on the agenda for the week. Writing is #1, of course. I have 2 weeks before I have to return to work, so I'm making the most of the time.

I still have some unpacking to do, still laundry to do, and of course I have to have my ankle looked at (I sprained it AGAIN my last week in Korea). Processing my notes and thoughts will be essential before work starts and my brain becomes too filled with other people's work and concerns to develop my own. I did some work on the film while in Korea, which was really wonderful. Now I'm in a better place to start editing once I get a tutorial in Final Cut Pro. A very simple thing I realized: part of my procrastination has been my discomfort with the tech end of it. What a silly thing! I've got a filmmaker friend and colleague who's going to help me with that end of things.

I'm still dealing with some jet lag, though today I'm feeling much better than yesterday. Hopefully tonight I won't wake up at 3:00 a.m. in a cold sweat, totally disoriented, like I have the last 2 nights. It's all good - just a mild transition, that's all. I prepped myself for getting through jet lag via EFT before I even got on the plane. Nothing like pre-emptive EFT!

I'm uploading more photos to Adventures of the Jade Monkey now, so why not head over there and check them out?

Singin' in Korean

Don't forget I'm in Korea - follow me at Adventures of the Jade Monkey!

Click on the link. Just do it.

Heeeere's Willy!

I'm obsessed with this:

Lady Gaga = Ace of Base + Madonna + Steam punk surplus store liquidation sale

Today's title sums up the morning's revelations about life in this modern world.

The last couple days have been fairly obnoxious. More summing up:

1. The Korean university kindly informed me Monday morning that I'd be needing a C-4 visa, which left me with less than 2 weeks to procure said visa.
2. The ENT guy has no idea why I can hear my pulse pounding in my left ear, but assures me my head won't explode on the plane to Korea. At some point when I get back, I'll need an MRI of my head.
3. It's been 60 degrees and/or raining here.
4. I burned my dinner of flax waffles last night.

At least I'm working a roller derby bout Saturday night (although it's a 2-hour drive), my new writing group is going well, as is my curriculum planning for Korea, and my writing projects are kicking some butt. These things are not to be overlooked, because they're keeping me sane right now.

Though she's not around these parts much any more, welcome home to the U.S.D.A., Salty Miss Jill.

The Jade Monkey Rides Again!

I've dusted off my travel blog in preparation for going to Korea. You can follow my exploits there: Adventures of the Jade Monkey. This blog also includes my adventures teaching in China in 2004. Keep checking back there for updates in June!

Incoming

Note the two additions to my list of Places and Faces: Sci Fi Media - reviews of books, movies and TV, and Thrall - entertainment news of the sort I care to know (i.e. not gossip). Give those folks a peep when you have a mo.

Sorting

It's summer, which mean there are so many projects to get to, not the least of which is I'M GOING TO KOREA IN A MONTH. I've decided for the time being to go for the "low hanging fruit."

1. Novel - The publisher is going to publish it. All I have to do is write it. And I am. Every day a couple more scenes.

2. Screenplay - My "paranormal rom-com" is in progress. I have a new writing group (we'll see how this one goes) and I'm hoping to get some solid potato salad critique from those homies.

3. My film - the doco on life as an expat EFL teacher in Korea is coming with me to Korea and I will be finishing it (editing) with the help of Chang, my production/doco colleague who is full of Awesomesauce.

So there you have it and there it is: Summer 2010.

In between all that is planning my curriculum for Korea, "reducing" as my Filipino mother-in-law would say (that means exercising and getting fit, losing some inches along the way), and working the penalty box for derby games.

Speaking of "reducing," can I just say that my knee really needs to just get its act together so I can do martial arts and roller skate again. I'm tired of babying it. I want to join Planet Fitness so I can get on that machine that pumps your quads. Since I'm sorta on a budget for the summer, I'll just do T'ai Chi in the park and bear all the Chinese people in my apartment complex laughing at me. WHAT?

Time to hit my day. PMP is in town for a visit, I'm getting my car back at some point, and I have to do some hauswerk. And of course, spend the morning writing.

On the move

Or rather, waiting for a ride. Soooo the '98 Nissan Sentra is once again mocking me with its oldness. Brought the car in this morning for a number of issues. When I go to pick it up tomorrow, I will be slapping another $1000 on the credit card to get it back on the road. This thing is a money pit. I've been saying for weeks that we'll need another car by the end of the year.

And it appears that we'll have one. My in-laws called just today (timing - wow!) to tell us that they're buying their leased car and are wanting to give us their Nissan Pathfinder (which is a '95, granted, but has barely been driven). I'm in awe of the Universe's way of supplying the much-needed things of life.

Just last night, in fact, Bizarro and I decided we'd make time to go visit my in-laws in August after I get back from Korea, before the semester starts up. I guess we'll take a flight or a bus there and drive the Pathfinder home. How slick is that shit?

So for the time being, until tomorrow, I am sans car. My Yoga instructor is being nice enough to give Bizarro and me a ride to and from Yoga tonight. We missed the last 2 weeks, and she is so gung-ho that she'd rather give us rides than miss another week.

Isn't it great when a plan comes together?

The New Banner (or, "Gramma's Ghost")

I'd just like to take a few moments to spew forth about the new banner. You may have noticed that it doesn't have ocean waves or palm trees or spring blossoms. It's also in black and white. This photo was taken from my grandmother's front porch I'm guessing in the 1940s, by the design of the car whizzing past. (Did cars whiz in the 40s? Or did they just sort of roll by?) This photo is one of a kabillion old photos I inherited/collected from my parents' immense collection of "who the hell is that? I don't remember that photo being taken. now where was that at?" Me, I adore old photos and have vowed to make them a regular part of my every day life.

Anyway, so check out the border of said banner. It's that sort of pink-salmony color right? Dude, that was the color of Gramma's house. I'm not kidding. Imagine this house in pink-salmony glory:



That house was in an area of Elmira, NY called "The Patch," which was an Italian neighborhood. When it was first built in the 1800s there was nothing - and I mean nothing - around it. Check it:



I'm not sure when my grandparents bought the home - I'm thinking some time in the 1930s, but this is how I remember Gramma at that house:



So as you can tell, I love that house. I think for the time being, I'm going to keep this banner - it is far more personal than some of the other images I've swapped out over the years. Oh, and in case you're wondering about the "INT./EXT." reference - that's a screenplay shot heading for a scene that is shot partially Interior and Exterior at a location.

As an aside, I used to have dreams of going into this house, only it was terribly haunted. Not by good people like my grandparents, but by evil spirits and suchlike. At some point in the recent past, I dreamed of going in there, but it was "clean," as Zelda Rubinstein would say. Seems to have been the end of those recurring dreams. Think of that what you will.

My Newest Favorite Stupid Website

Vader's off the league!

see more Lol Celebs

Here's a song I've NEVER understood:



"Walk like a man, talk like a man" in falsetto.

I keep working my way back to you, babe...

I've been Facebooking waaaayyy too much lately. So this weekend I'm "taking a break," which makes me sound like a junkie who's just going to drink coffee and poke smot for the weekend.

I'm trying to pay more attention to this blog, which is a much more productive use of my time, don't you think? I mean, really. Dear Blog, I promise not to play around any more and cheat on you with Facebook. At least, for the weekend.

Korean food makes me glisten

Tonight Bizarro and I went to a Korean BBQ restaurant in "college town." My Korean film maker/professor friend cooks there as a favor to his friend the owner. Tonight we had spicy pork and chicken with the MOST delicious side dishes (cucumber kimchi, regular kimchi, fish cakes), and freebies (mandu for appetizer, rice drink and some kind of tiny icecream balls for dessert). Wow. That was a lot of food. But more than that, it was a taste of my upcoming month in Korea. Real Korean food, and cute little sweet things for dessert. Cuz in Korea, it's not good unless it's cute.

-^^- kk

I cannot frickin' WAIT to get to Korea. The saunas, the kimchi, the noraebang, the soju, the random pick-up badminton in the streets. One month from now I'll be in NYC, heading to the airport for my long-ass flight on a big-ass plane.

Speaking of big asses and saunas, I have to start exercising every day so I can feel slender and sleek in the all-nekkid bath house.

Nekkid.

It's like looking into a mirror.

Sneaky Hate Spiral.

Truly. It's also like looking at Bizarro on an off day.

A happy ending...

No, not THAT kind of happy ending. Get your mind out of the gutter.

Yesterday morning was a very pleasant few hours with the kitty (I'd nick-named him Spaz). I let him come inside. He mainly stayed near the screen door and watched outside, as cats do. Around 12:30 I realized that I wasn't doing any one any favors by letting him stay here indefinitely, knowing he'd have to leave. So I packed him up in the kitty carry box my neighbor loaned me and brought him over to the SPCA. He was not happy in that little box in the car. His pitiful cries broke my heart. I sobbed the entire time I was at the intake center. I could hear his little cries when they carried him into the back room to his temporary cage. I cried the whole way home. I was a mess. I felt stupid for getting so attached, but really what I felt bad about was thinking the cat felt betrayed and confused. He'd developed a nice life here, and now he was in a cage at the SPCA.

When I got back to the apartment, I ran into my across-the-hall neighbor, and we started talking about the kitty. Turns out HE was hosting the kitty too, at night. I'd wondered where the kitty was sleeping at night since he wasn't on my patio. My neighbor didn't realize it was an orphan kitty; he'd held back from feeding him and taking him in because he figured he belonged to someone. So after the entire story was out, my neighbor realized he could adopt the kitty from the SPCA, after the cat's been neutered and has had his medical check-up and shots. It'll take a week to ten days for the entire process, but then my neighbor can bring home Spaz, who can then come visit us on our patio.

Can I just say that I am astounded how completely sentimental and wrecked I became over a damned kitten. I mean really. Bizarro, too, became attached, though much less so. The kitty was very attached to me. He'd come when I call, follow me around, sit on my lap, etc. I just hope the week in the SPCA doesn't ruin him. He had such a sweet disposition.

Okay, see here I go again! I'm too soft for my own good.

ADDENDUM: Took my neighbor over to the SPCA yesterday. Turns out Spaz is a she-kitty, and is almost a year old, not 5-6 months. Spaz is coming home next Tuesday. My neighbor and I have agreed to be co-parents, tho he gets to deal with the litter box and cat sheddings in winter. WIN-WIN-WIN!

Mid-May Missive

Taking a breath on a Sunday morning to catch up more details here, since I was buried in work the last few weeks.

As mentioned in a previous post, I've begun a new adventure as a penalty box mistress (timekeeper) with the local women's roller derby league. My husband started going to games last season, and seemed to really enjoy them. This season I went with him to the opening game, and I was INSTANTLY hooked. There's no way my knee or my schedule will allow me to skate or even be a ref, but I am able to be an NSO - Non-Skating Official - to keep time in the penalty box. And yes, I do have a derby name: The Prof. Hit.

Aside from my new hobby, I am looking forward to writing morning, noon and night this summer, with the exception of my month in Korea, during which I will work on my documentary. Ah, see you'd forgotten I started to work on a film three years ago, dincha? It's still out there, but I'm closing in now for the kill, with assistance from a colleague at skool to help me edit.

My writing projects are varied: a first draft of a new screenplay, revisions of one I just got some notes for, and a novel for a small publishing company that specializes in licensed properties (TV tie-ins, IOW). I am looking forward to living the life of a writer for the next month or so.

One last thing to report - my shitty-ass neighbors have decided to abandon a 5-6 month old kitten because they're moving and won't/can't take him with them. They've stopped feeding it and let it outside so that someone will take him in. The little thing is skin and bones, and I've taken it upon myself to find him a new home, since he's taken up hanging out on our patio. I feed him a little protein every day and make sure he has some water to drink. I don't know where he goes at night. I need to find him a new home, soon, though. It incenses me that anyone would be so fucking irresponsible and ignorant.

And now, to end this on a lighter note, I have to go make part of my costume for derby this afternoon. How much fun!

yeah, what he said

If you're a devout Catholic who reveres the Pope, don't watch this. If you're a Catholic who doesn't like the Pope, or anyone who doesn't like the Pope, or someone who is angry at the cover-up and rap on the knuckles of priests doing bad things, and can appreciate some on-the-nose humor, feel free. But be warned, it's 99.8% fucking mutherfucked.

aaaand we're back

Semester nearly wrecked me. Just have grades to turn in and one more frakking "retreat" to attend, then it will be over. I've already begun working on summer projects, including prep for teaching at Hanyang University in Korea. Oh yeah, I spent hours last night and this morning searching for my passport, which I found in the same box I'd looked in four times, at least. I finally had the bright idea of lifting the see-through plastic box and looking through the bottom, and there it was, buried in all the crap I'd thrown in over the last 3 years.

And now this:


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I'm feeling a bit out of sorts today. I don't know if it's actual cold or simply exhaustion. Yesterday threw me for a loop. I was supposed to go to a retreat for work that was supposed to end at 1:00. My coworkers decided it should go until "whenever" but neglected to tell me this, so at 1:00 I was pumped to jump in my car and head back to civilization. We'd had our meeting at someone's lovely country house but godDAMN people, how do you live in the middle of BFE? I don't understand how you even get out of your f'ing driveway in winter! Anyway, imagine my embarrassed fury when I was informed that the others were heading back to campus to "finish" our retreat. WTF? No one bothered to apologize, but someone did have the presence of mind to admit "This is the worst-planned retreat, ever." Yeah. Something like that. All that is to say that what I'd planned for the rest of the day was thrown out the window, and I arrived home after 4:00 feeling like a piece of over-cooked spaghetti. I have a feeling that that, coupled with the extensive rip-apart-my-apartment search for the passport, has left me feeling less-than today.

Which is really inconvenient since tomorrow I am going to be time-keeping in the penalty box for the local roller derby league's bout. It's my debut, and I'm pissed that I am not feeling well. I can only hope and pray that all the remedies I've shoved down my pie-hole all day and a good night's sleep will mend me for tomorrow.

Will let you all know how it goes.

Almost there...

The end is in sight...semester is just about done. Meanwhile, enjoy:

Unspeakable

First off, I don't think I really want to know what "solid potato salad" is. Second off, I feel like I took the green acid when I watch this:

Elsie Rose

every time I think about
the times I made you cry
with my selfishness
my harsh tongue
every slammed door
makes me weep now
that you're not here

I can't imagine what I was thinking
how ignorant and angry I was
and now I would give the world
to have a few more moments
to love you in person
and to tell you how important you are

I said those things, I said them all
in the darkest days we shared so many
of our deepest currents,
strands of ourselves no one else had seen or heard
before or since
and you asked what you'd ever taught me

you taught me how to think, how to cook,
how to give of myself
you showed me a life of grace and humility
and you always reminded me how good I was
in everything I did.
you kept me close to your heart no matter what
awful thing I'd done or said
even when I made you cry
always you loved me and I would come to you
I will always come to you.

days are so much longer without you
to talk to, to laugh with, to share our secrets
I have maybe 40 more good years here, just like you did,
if I'm really good and lucky
but when it's time to go, I will seek you out
I hope you will do the same.

I will show you how I've matured, become
the person you dreamed I would be
and together I think
we'll play Scrabble again at some cafe,
watching the people pass,
and smiling.

Uh, China, Ur caps is on...

TO THE GLORIOUS MOTHERLAND!

Scary Mary!

Thanks to Anita Marie for this:

Julie Andrews is da bomb

Which musical extravaganza do you prefer:

Sound of Music (Julie Andrews as postulent nun-turned nanny of seven-turned Frau Von Trapp-turned Nazi Austria escapee)

or...






















Mary Poppins (Julie Andrews as magical nanny-derby winner on a merry-go-round horse-sweet on a chimney sweep-family mender)?

















Please leave a comment!

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Doctor Who is BACK!

I grieved over the departure of David Tennant, but now it's time to be wrapped up in the magic again. Tonight Bizarro and I watched Matt Smith's first Doctor Who episode, and I have to say that I am well pleased. Don't worry, I won't post any spoilers, but the new TARDIS design is absolutely awesome, Matt Smith is likable, rascally and mysterious (but not as cute as DT, let's face it). He has yet to find his "edge" but that will come in time, and with the much stronger writing of David Moffat, I am ready to see what happens next. Geronimo!

If you'd like a sneak peak at the new TARDIS design (no story/character spoilers, I promise), have a look at Blogtor Who.


From UK TV listings magazine, courtesy of Blogtor Who.

Hotter than a bull's tit. Wait...er...

Yesterday I was trying like hell to find a good comparative metaphor for the mini-heat wave we're having. I was going off of the ole "colder than a witch's tit," but I didn't get very far, clearly. And I call myself a writer. Oh, well.

In other news, I dropped some cold hard cash on new clothes for the spring/summer business-caszh wardrobe. It had to be done. I've grown out of most of my work clothes (which in itself is another post for another blog - let's just say I ain't happy about going up another size since last spring). Yay for Kohl's! I found some good deals on clothes that don't make me look like a donut.

Spring cleaning has commenced, beginning with piles in the bedroom that at some point over the winter I'm pretty sure gained sentience and formed a United Federation of Discards. Their little cliques and will soon be destroyed and redeployed to my own design. I've been reading too much Becoming Madame Mao. I'm starting to talk like a Chinese Communist ca. 1966.

And on that note, I'm going to go "pull the weeds" of my closet and dressers to make room for revolutionary clothes. Out with the old, in with the new.

Decked out like a Peep

Oh yeah, you know I'm talking about Peeps on Good Friday.

I looked online to see if anyone has made Jesus Peeps, but I didn't find any.

It's Easter weekend. This means most of nothing to me, since I'm Buddhist, but I do get the vibe of resurrection/renewal/rebirth (the Christians didn't invent that shit, y'know). This Sunday I plan to make our family's holiday staple: lasagna. I will also watch Mary Poppins on TV, and definitely I will watch Jesus Christ Superstar at some point.

I bet when I check the mailbox I'll have an Easter card from my brother and his wife. Funny how they think it's still appropriate to send me these religious cards on Christian holidays that I don't celebrate. I'm sure this Buddhism thing is just a phase I'm going through (at the age of 42, after 9 years), and eventually I'll find my way back to Mother Church. Not to be confused with Mother Russia.

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Nose plugs

Oh man has it been stinky in here. REEKING with my bad attitude. The spate of gorgeous weather has allowed me to open Window and Patio Door, thus creating a cross breeze that is helping to Get Out The Stink.

Well, so yeah I've been home sick all week, except that I haven't really been home sick all week. I stayed home from one job, the one with the most hours and the most frustrations, but I had to go in to do the other one, for which no one was available to cover me anyway. I taught those classes feeling feverish, woozey, and totally grumpy.

And now it's Friday, it's 80 degrees, and except for a brief visit to the store to pick up food and juice and echinacea and goldenseal in a pill, I've been parked on the couch, reading Becoming Madame Mao (totally absorbing, love it love it love it) and journaling EFT Choices set up phrases (or, MTT, since after a legal todo, EFT can no longer be used. MTT stands for Meridian Tapping Technique). I've also slept a lot.

The bottom line is, though, that I keep getting sick and I keep not being able to fend off the worst germs that come my way. What's up with that? Oh, I have Theories. I have many Theories.

And I know I shouldn't ask the question, but sometimes I do get irked when Good Things Happen to People Who Should Know Better. (Why do Good Things happen to People Who Should Know Better?) I mean really, it does irk me to see this going on in the world. But then I shrug it off and remind myself that just because someone gets to travel around the world doesn't mean she doesn't have problems.

Mmm so I think it's time for some kind of Vitamin C cocktail (minus the alcohol, unfortunately) that will enable my immune system to unfuck itself. If my sinuses don't start draining soon, I think they will pop out of my head and march on down to the neighborhood pub all on their own. And that would be a sight to see.

April Fools

Nothing very foolish about today. It was in the 70s, sunny, gorgeous, and I'm still sick. Seems that's all I talk about on this blog. That and how shitty I feel about everything all the time. That's why I haven't written in awhile. And see? I'm writing and so far all I've talked about is being sick and depressed.

So. There ya go.

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Stuck...

...and not happy about it. What's a traveler to do?

Of course this is a metaphor rife with life lessons and pithy quotes and Buddhist teachings.

But at the moment I'm talking about actually being stuck in the f'ing airport. I was supposed to take a 6 a.m. flight to Boston, but it was canceled. Not for the reason you're no doubt thinking of. (But Ms. Bizarro, the Nor'easter...) No, I was informed that it was canceled 3 hours before take off for "maintenance." If you're good at math, you can figure out that that meant I received an automated message from U.S. Air at 3 a.m. I then spoke to a representative who booked me on an early afternoon flight through Philly. Okay, well it meant less of a day with JET, my dearest friend who I essentially booked this flight to see.

I finally fell asleep at 6 a.m. Got up around 9:30, made breakfast, took my time, got to the airport in plenty of time, and after I checked in, got through security and got comfy waiting for boarding, the announcement came that the flight was 2 hours delayed. They announced this at 12:15 for a 12:30 boarding time.

And so now...stuck. In the airport with the screaming baby and his very ill mother a couple rows from me. They are a pair, these two hipster parents. I feel a little bad for them, and for the bambino (a toddler, not a real infant). But I also feel bad for me because I was supposed to have been in Boston an hour and a half ago. And I'm here, instead.

So now we've got later connecting flights out of LaGuardia, one of which will hopefully get us to Boston. And I strongarmed the U.S. Air ticket lady to give me a later return flight (Saturday instead of Friday) since I'd lost an entire day thanks to them. They tried to make me pay for it but I raised a mild tsunami and they eventually caved.

This means, however, that some lucky family member o' mine will have to get me to Logan by 6:30 a.m. on Saturday (I hadn't thought that far in advance - with spring breakers coming back to college it's going to be a mad house). Soooo I probably just traded one nightmare for another, right? I hope not. Bizarro and I have plans for our anniversary on Saturday.

This is a whole lot of venting because right now this is my only outlet. But let's take this being stuck thing to a whole...'nother....level. Being stuck is a state of mind. Yes, it's true, I cannot do much about my physical situation. I have options - stick this out and hope to God I eventually reach Boston, or cancel the entire trip and stay home for spring break. Other than that, I'm at the mercy of U.S. Air. I can be angry and indignant and walk around with a cloud over my head (which is tempting, I admit), or try to make the best of an unhappy situation. This is the reality of life in the air. Reality is what it is.

However, being the kind of person who always sees opportunities for optimizing, I would like offer this airport a few pointers:
- more outlets
- food options in the terminal (aside from coffee and lollipops)
- more seating
- more than 2 air carriers (U.S. Air and Continental Express)

That is my constructive criticism. It is much more helpful than a wanton rant.

And I really don't know where or how to end this post. I think I'll just sort of drift off into the ether...

Which way the wind blows

Not sure how I'm feeling now. The weather vane of my mood is not pointing in any certain direction. Mellow, certainly. Tired, certainly. But also have had a very blahh late afternoon/evening. My classes at The Other School on the Hill went well this morning, as well as my afternoon at the community college. Was blasting my tunes driving in the bright sunshine, feeling pretty awesomesauce, but then I got home and the energy just sort of drained out of me. Tried to get some things done but ended up taking a nap. Oh, how lazy of me! Tried ordering Chinese food for dinner and that sucked. I have said it before but I will say it again and with more finality - I am done ordering from that particular Chinese/Vietnamese restaurant. I'm tired of thowing money away on tough chicken with ginger that includes NO vegetables.

I mean, can you imagine? A chinese food carton full of dried chunks of gingery chicken and NOTHING ELSE?

I wanted to take a bath earlier, but took a good look at the tub and said EW. And do I feel like scrubbing the tub? Hells naw.

And so there it is and there you have it. Oh, one more thing. I STUPIDLY ordered a vitamin supplement for what I thought was a 30-day free trial and then realized after I'd ordered it that it wasn't free, it was "risk-free," which is a bullshit marketing term that means you can return it if you don't like it. I'm a dumbass. My intuition warned me, but did I listen? No. NO. I immediately called back and asked the guy to cancel my order, but of course only a manager can do that, so I have to call back in the morning and call this manager dude Robb. Jeezus.

So right now I'm not feeling so spiffy. Tomorrow's my nasty 9-hour day with the independent study and the 7-hour straight shift of tutoring. Something to look forward to, right?

I guess feeling uncertain is better than feeling shitty.

Because it doesn't stop being funny until you've done it a million times.

And now a real post

As mentioned earlier, my birthday was this past week. I'm not a big birthday celebration kind of gal, though it's always nice to do something fun. I usually plan my own birthday celebrations. The way I see things, it ceased being someone else's responsibility to plan my birthday after I turned 21. I'm not so keen on b-day cards because quite honestly it's a waste of paper and I just end up recycling them. It's fine to receive them and I always appreciate the thought, but the main thing is, it's not what makes my birthday special. Spending it with cool people is what makes it special, without the absurdity of "it's my birthday therefore I am queen."

This year Bizarro and I went with a couple friends of ours on the Seneca Lake wine trail. We hit about 6 wineries but paced ourselves so we could actually enjoy the wines and soak up the wine knowledge dropped on us by the somaliers. We even hit up Hazlitt, which was to us the bottom of the barrel (get it?) when it came to class, wine, and atmosphere. Our fave was Castel Grisch, followed closely by Red Newt. Our friends also treated us to a lovely lunch at Glenora winery as a birthday/ upcoming 5th wedding anniversary celebration. The day was awesomesauce - sunny, funny & boozy.

Heading now into the last week before spring break. I expect it will be crazy busy in the writing center where I tutor, and I've already heard whining from students with work due before and after the break. Honestly, I'm just getting a little too old for that nonsense. I really want to tell them to cram it and deal with it because if they think THIS is bad, just wait until six months after graduation when the first student loan payment is due.

Spending spring break in Boston with my fam and friends. Excited to see folks and spend St. Patty's day with Rrrrache (we have a long history of St. Patty's Day together). My main concern, though, is spending some QT with JET, who is going through something of a hard time right now.

Once I get there (flying) I'm going to rent an car and will hit the beach for some writing time every day. If I had a few more bucks to spare, I'd stay overnight at the hotel on the beach where I stayed last summer, but this time around I'm spending more on travel. It's all good. My brother and his wife will just have to put up with me. Heh.

Time to wind down the night and get a good sleep in before the onslaught of the week.

Tro lo lo lo

I've been swept away by the latest obsession on teh intranets.



This guy rocks my world with bongos, lip syncing, Soviet-era TV budget, and raw sexual maleness.

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I missed my own birthday

I was so busy with that thing called WORK that I had no time/focus to acknowledge my own birthday on my own blog. I had to work until 7:00, but then Bizarro took me out to eat and we had a nice evening, which included margaritas and a birthday brownie. So here I am - The Answer to Life, The Universe and Everything.

For once I'm on top of Vladurday, but LOLCATS hasn't posted today's funny. So instead:


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Can U Dig It?

Fall On Your Sword.

You just have to experience it to believe it.

Something to look forward to this Easter (a resurrection of a different sort)

It's so true.

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Dualing Kittehs

Happy Year of the Tiger!


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It's that time again...

For the Olympic Games fever to strike. I am a complete sucker for the Olympics, especially the Winter Games. I've been watching the pre-opening ceremonies show and experiencing pangs of sadness at not being able to watch with my Mom. Growing up, I always watched the Games with Mom. It was a thing that we always did together, and even after we didn't live together, we'd watch on the phone and the Games always dominated our discussions.

But yes, I am jazzed! I want to see Apolo Ohno become the American Olympian athlete with the most Gold medals ever. I'm looking forward to the men's figure skating, which will be intense with Russian god Plushenko. I'd love to see Shen and Zhao bring China a gold medal in pairs. And so much more... it's just day after day of awesomeness.

Sadly, the tone of the Games is dampened by the death of the Georgian luger. I think that track is a little off the charts. 90 mph? Jeeezus. Kind of irresponsible, and they've had doubts that as to its safety all along, especially for the lesser experienced athletes, just like the 21-year old who died this morning.

The Georgian team looked absolutely miserable as they entered the Olympic arena during the opening ceremonies tonight. I felt very bad for them.

The Opening Ceremonies themselves have been fun. The native peoples are the focal point of the presentation, which is really great, and very appropriate. And so far, my favorite costume is the Mongolion flag bearer's. I need a hat like that.

Two weeks, three weekends of awesome winter sports. How odd, considering I do none of them and pretty much despise winter. Hmmm...maybe I don't despise it as much as I think I do?

In honor of the Winter Olympics, a new header, the photo taken in our "back yard" last November.

BrutalSquee

Making waves

A bamboo forest reminds me in many ways of water. There's a flow to the strong yet flexible stalks, and a sound very much like waves on the shore. The new header on this blog is a shot of a bamboo cluster I took on a mountain top at a Korean Buddhist temple. I thought it an appropriate image to use for a couple of reasons: first, I'm going back to Korea this summer, and second, life in bloom is a welcome sight next to all the snow and gray ouside my window.

On the way.

It's February, which means March is almost here. March has many good things. It has my birthday, my wedding anniversary with Bizarro (5 years), and Spring Break, for which I am headed to the land of my birthing (South Shore of Boston).

The new schedule is starting to feel a little more sane. I am not worried about it at this point. I am happy as a clam to have all this work and to have a plan for summer (teach screenwriting in Korea).

I always suspected there was more to Velma than brains...

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Grumpus Maximus

I've been a grumpus since last night. I came home sick from work yesterday. That only took 2.5 weeks of the new semester. Still better than last semester, in which I was sick before classes even started, but I'm still not happy with the apparent continuation of the sickly theme.

One of two things are going on:

1. I secretly hate my professional life, my subconscious is sabotaging it, and my body is trying to tell me how miserable I actually am.
-OR-
2. My immune system is really so delicate that a few nights of wacky sleep schedule is enough to cause me to catch the first germ that comes along.

Tutoring is worse than teaching when it comes to germ exposure. Students come in all sniffly and snotty and are all up in my face, and I often have to handle their books or whatnot. I need to do better at keeping them at arms length if they come in all sickly.

Truth is, I think that it is likely a combination of 1 and 2. Although I love my new job, I have already found it very stressful to be shuttling between two campuses, two institutions, two totally different types of work, two radically different environments. I need one job that suits my needs. I have to stop this patchwork piecemeal life. I can't take it anymore.

I have put out feelers for any possibility of increasing my hours at the tutoring job, so that I can start transferring my proverbial eggs into that basket, but that college has just entered a hiring freeze, so my hopes are dim that that can happen. This means I have to keep struggling with this fucking crazy schedule that includes early mornings, late nights, and one day a week that I have to be in both places. I can't get a handle on the balance of it. I've sworn off all 10:00 television programming (which, alas, includes Burn Notice and Leverage) so that I can try to be in bed and asleep by 11:00, so that getting up at 6:30 won't feel like dragging my cold corpse from the grave every morning.

I realize that to many, this sounds like a bunch of whining. Sam Axe would call me "a bitchy little girl." But the fact remains that I am going to be 42 in less than a month, and I'm working a young-woman's game with this kind of schedule and work. I deserve something much better, with benefits, a reasonable work load and schedule, and somewhere I can hang my hat and say "this is where I work." I love being a tutor (which is more complex than just the 1-on-1 work, because we do workshops, classroom visits, and other such things), and I love doing the operations stuff that my job entails. I need more of that.

So how can I make this happen? Incidentally, I wouldn't mind doing that kind of job in a place with palm trees.

I should note that I felt my best this winter the two weeks I got up and went to the retreat house to write every day. Underneath this entire discussion about how to earn a living is the undeniable identity and desire to write and do nothing else. How to get that to pay the bills...that's another topic for discussion.

My thoughts, exactly.

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Okay, well not this one.

Foot Fetish Fetish (warning: graphic material)

Okay, this is a weird one, folks, so get ready.

I'm reading this book I grabbed off one of the spinny-shelves at the library where I work, because I needed something to read on my lunch (and had left my short story book at home like a bonehead). Anyway, it's called Peony In Love, and it's about a teenage Chinese girl at the change of the Ming to Qing dynasties. She's betrothed to be married (one of those arranged marriages, you know), but she meets a romantic poet and falls in desperate love with him (as much as one can at the age of 15), and pines away, obsessed with the tragic romance opera Peony Pavilion and her lovesickness at marrying a total stranger. I won't give away the rest of the story, but I will just say it's not at all what I expected. There is a lot going on in this story with regard to feminism, cultural morality, etc.

Now, to my point. A great deal of attention in the novel is spent on the practice and procedures of "foot binding," which resulted in the sought-after tiny "Lily feet." I've become somewhat obsessed with this, because in general, I am a person who has problems with her feet, ankles, and knees, and this act of purposefully hobbling women is both horrifying and fascinating to me.

First of all, let's talk about the "foot binding" procedure. The appellation "bound foot" isn't even close to representing what was actually the aim of this practice. The smaller the foot, the better. The goal was a 3 to 3.5 inch foot.

Let that sink in a moment. Your foot. 3.5 inches long.

If you think about this for more than a few seconds, you start to realize that this can only be achieved by breaking the bones of the foot and reforming it (deforming it) into a nub. I am not going to put any graphic images up here, but if you really want to see what it looked like, just Google "foot binding" and make sure you have a strong constitution. I do not, alas, and have spent much of the day nauseated after looking at a few images of bound feet both in and out of their wrappings. The x-ray image is the most disturbing of all.

Okay. So now I'd like to talk about high heel shoes for a sec. Let's go with this one. Four inch heels. Most women my age and younger would find this shoe attractive. Most would say "cute" "adorable," even "fun." I, myself, would admire this shoe, even though I know my weak ankles would never tolerate walking in them. But just let your eye travel from the sweet little buckle down to the area where a woman's toes would reside. Walking on the ball of the foot. Now, if I measure the length of my big toe bone, from the ball to the tip, how many inches do you suppose it works out to be? That would be 3.5, my friends.

I'm not saying that wearing a pair of heels is anything even remotely like having one's feet mangled and bound. (If you really want to know the procedure, go to Google. I don't have the stomach for typing it out here). However, there are some noticeable similarities:

Both hobble women so that they cannot run. Both require women to walk in ways which are not normal or natural to our bone and musculature. Both damage women's bone and musculature, albeit with a huge difference in severity. Both hurt like hell to walk in. Both are prized (or were, before foot binding was outlawed in the early 20th century) by men as a symbol of erotic sexualized femininity (Chinese men would jerk off on the tiny lily feet. No, I am not kidding.). Both are/were also embraced and celebrated by women as symbols of their womanhood, sexuality, beauty, fashion sense, and social standing. Both practices are/were handed down mother to daughter.

Now. Tell me. HOW FUCKED UP IS THAT?

I have had to stop wearing any heels over an inch after the last round of ankle-spraining in '08, which at first made me sad (mainly because of my open-toed work shoes that I wore for summer teaching). To be fair, I also had to stop wearing them because they had no back straps, and therefore made my ankles work way too hard (flip-flops are totally out for me). I started looking at comfortable foot wear, and found that it is rather difficult to find such a thing that doesn't make me look like 1. an old woman 2. a hippie. I do have a sense of fashion pride, though admittedly it is my own version of things, and often I look clunky compared to some of my friends who are willowy and fashionable. But most of the time, I'm pretty comfortable with my look. And I've embraced the very thing I spurned and reviled through my thirties: sneakers.

Fuckin' A. Sneakers rock. Sneakers with my orthotics make me feel like a million bucks. I am now focused on a search for trainers/sneaks that can suit almost any occasion. Oh, don't worry (PMP), I still have one pair of "good shoes" for the rare occasions that demand them. But dudes, I teach screenwriting and I'm a writing tutor. I'm on my feet a lot, and I wear sneakers. I embrace my long, strong, talented feet. I celebrate them! I love being barefoot and can't wait to see those bare feet on a surf board one day soon.

Where am I going with all this? Today I celebrated my feet. I thanked them for carrying me through my life for 40 years. I appreciate my feet, and so should you. I gave myself a home-pedicure this afternoon, and I again thought about how fortunate I am to have been born when and where and to whom I was. "Auspicious birth" the Tibetans called it. E ma ho!

Now, go take your shoes and socks off (especially you women), and tell your feet, toes, heels, and ankles how much you love them. Cherish your feet, don't abuse them. If your shoes hurt, don't wear them! Find something that is comfortable and can still display your own sense of style. Don't wear heels because you think you have to, or you never really thought about it before and it's the default setting for work or going out attire. Think about it! There's no reason for walking around in four inch heels that hurt, squeeze your toes, give you bunions & heel spurs, screw up your arches, and generally cause you misery. Be kind to your feet! You have the freedom to wear whatever you want; take advantage of that freedom. You are not constricted by horrid social mores or strict gender and sexual roles.

And now, with my long, strong, talented feet, I am stepping off my soap box.


Read all about it:
Research paper on foot binding and high heels.
Research paper on the origins of foot binding.
An essay on Chinese foot binding (graphic photos included).

Check out the site of a former student of mine: RedSpace. The guy has a way with words and is destined for excellence.

Paid to be a geek!

WOW. I've been asked to collaborate on a Space: 1999 novel for the small press that has the franchise license. I am in shock. I hardly thought my writing breakout would be in prose, nor that the show I worshipped as a kid would provide the opportunity to write, get paid, and have fun. Don't get me wrong, I realize Space: 1999 had multiple flaws as a television production (not the least of which is a physics faux pas at the root of the show's premise), but it captured my imagination when I was seven years old, as it did for many. In most ways, the books are more intelligent than the show ever was, deepening the characters and exploring things that let's face it, ITC didn't have a budget to create in 1975. I am honored to be a part of that universe, and I am excited to take on this challenge.

Up, up and away...

...in my beautiful, my beautiful LSD machine...



...after which, you'll be floating on a platform in space, in the Age of Aquarius.

Elsie's Dessert, Pt. II

One year ago, I said good-bye to my Momazoo for the last time on this Earth. It doesn't seem possible that a year has slipped by. I'm glad this is a Friday, so I can take the weekend to be introspective, sit by the fire, and write in my journal.

I have some roses by her picture, and a prayer card of St. Anne's Prayer. It was Mom's favorite prayer; she was devoted to St. Anne. I would read her prayers to her in the nursing home, when she was too weak to read them herself, and we always had to include that prayer.

I miss you, Momazoo.

Um, that would be me...

see more Lol Celebs

Courtesy of an ex-boyfriend

One of my more recent exes posted this article on Facebook, and I thought it was brilliant:

A.V. Club "How To Teach Swagger"

It humorously decries the power of the teen heart-throb, whilst lynching the uniquely American phenom of the teen brat that has more buying power than I do.

I think I'm going to add A.V. Club to my blogroll.

And now for your regularly scheduled everything else.

Coming off of my retreat wasn't as bad as it could've been. I've had re-entries that were as bad as my return culture shock from Korea. Yesterday I got up and finished (FINISHED!) "Beauty Is..." and had my writing group meeting in the afternoon, followed by Yoga, so it was a good day to be out of retreat.

"Beauty Is..." finally has the focus it needs. Yes, there's the Y/A sleuthing element, but it's more about the friendships and trials of my characters, all teens, in 1961. I also fixed the "bookend" feature. Initially, the action took place in the early '50s, and the book ends were in the 70s, but my writing group declared that no one would give a shit about the 50s and the 70s, and that it would be too hard to identify with any of the characters. I resisted this for a long time, but then I realized there was a way to put the bookends in the present. I also opened up a whole new chapter in the charcters' lives - them as 60-somethings. I had fun with that.

Anyway, I'm excited and will have to print it out for another fine-toothed comb through, but meanwhile I've got the next screenplay in the hopper. I've got Act I pretty well figured out, so I need to get the rest of the outline done. I've discovered that the only way an outline works for me is if I draw it as a timeline. I have these huge project calendars that use the wipe-off marker, so I flip them over to use the blank side, and they make the perfect time line medium.

Yoga kicked my ass last night. It was the first time back after my instructor went away for a month. She said she was going to keep it an "easy" workout, but damn it didn't feel easy to me. Afterwards she said, "I think that's the easiest Yoga class I've ever taught." I don't know if she was kidding, but I hope she was. Anyway, it's all good, because I am getting myself back into the physical shape that is natural and healthy.

My regimen for the next few months: Yoga Monday nights, Belly dance Tuesday nights, Aqua Aerobics Thursday at noon, and when I can make it, Tae Kwon Do Friday afternoons.

Oh yes, that's right TKD. Check it: one of my students last semester came to me and asked if I would consider being a faculty adviser for the TKD club. Theirs was leaving and they had no one and without a faculty adviser, they'd be shut down. He didn't even know that I'd studied TKD at one point in my life. Anyway, so I said yes, and he promised to go easy on me if I try to get back into a dobok and recapture some of the glory of my youth. I'm pretty jazzed about it. I even have my old belt kicking around someplace in the closet. (get it? KICKING AROUND)

So this semester I am going to be sore, looks like, but my work schedule is going to demand I go to bed early and get up early so all this exercise should help me do just that. I'm looking forward to the new semester, though I'm a bit nervous. The new job as a tutor will be, I think, exciting. Best of all, I will have little prep work for classes, since the screenwriting class I could teach with my eyes closed (and might have to, seeing as how my first section is at 8:00 a.m.).

Everything is, how you say, awesome.