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Well, well - June 1st. Iíll try to keep up with it for at least a month. Maybe Iíll sneak old ones in. A year ago I joined 100 Words, did June, never finished July and then quit. Maybe it'll become a June tradition, what the hell. And what's wrong with "hell"? When did hell become a curse word? I think that happened when I moved to Georgia. Hell is a concept, nothing more, really. Of course, itís only fun as an insult, an exclamation or a movie with special effects. Iíve written a damn boring paragraph, but what the hell.
Iím so out of it, Iíd rather stay in. We can take in a movie, so letís see whatís out on DVD. Iíll phone in some take-out food. They were out of shrimp; I hope itís in. Tomorrow weíll go out to take in some scenery. Itís pleasant to be out in the forest! Thereís an outside chance weíll be invited out to an informal get-together, but Iím such an outsider, it makes me introverted. Iíd have nothing to wear because all thatís in my closet is out of style. Yes, life is full of ups and downs.
Cost me $3 or $5. Obviously old, it measures 8.75Ē x 20.5Ē wide with the frame, approximately. Oils on a board, no signature; probably needs cleaning. I wouldnít sell it. Who painted it? The full moon appears above distant hills, illuminating a cloudy sky and shining low on a calm lake. Three trees and some vegetation are on the opposite shoreline. At the left, you are standing on the sloping shore. A stump and trees lean towards the water. Follow them to a red-orange glow. No flames, very little smoke. In silhouette, a lone man stands, cooking.
Mom called again tonight. She seems to be doing well. Iím relieved that sheís talking to people, not being alone. Believe me, you have to spend serious amounts of time with your elderly parents to find out whatís really going on with them, learn their ailments, their doctors, their prescriptions, what kind of medical coverage they have, deal with legal/financial issues. Itís hard being far away, so I stayed for 2 months last year and about 3 this year. A lot to deal with both times, before and after we lost Dad. I wrote in journals all the time.
Why we cling to the music of our youth: I have my theories. First, it reminds us of specific times, usually good times, and just the feeling of being young. Few memories are as good as the great rock concerts of years ago. Then, thereís age difference that affects our perspective. Our musician heroes were approximately 10 years older or the same age as us. But sometimes, I think the main reason we cling more to the music weíve always loved more than whatever became popular since is because weíre full. How many more songs can fit in one brain?
Magnetic poetry hangs up from December, before I went to back to NY those winter months. Never imagined Iíd experience so much snow only about a month or so later:
like a dream
the time was winter
bitter but gorgeous
and the sky is
light and misty as they fall
delicate as a whisper in the wind
I ache for some moment in my life
watching visions of a place like a picture
playing in my head
sadly I am not there
I think in shadows
but want to see beauty shine through like the moon
My fictitious 100 Words piece has begun to come true. Some of it is usual, but thereís more. Coincidentally, we just got invited to a party and yes, I donít really want to go or to stay long because Iím introverted. ďOut of shrimp,Ē I thought, ďActually, restaurants - take-out or otherwise - donít run out of shrimp,Ē though thatís irrelevant to the piece. Then I had lunch at the food court at the Mall (I rarely do that) and there was an extra charge for shrimp which Iíd have considered except that there were
no shrimp dishes to be found.
We have three cats. For years, we had five. As much as I love them, Iíve decided it would be best to have no more than three and no less than two. While I was away, I missed them terribly. I missed my husband, but I could talk to him by phone. Talking to a cat on the phone is -- well, not much of a conversation. I think my being away affected CB, made him a little less secure, but he bonded closer with Danny. Wanting equal affection from both of us, he often nuzzles Dannyís face, waking him up.
Another part from my fictional piece came true today when Danny said, ďWhy donít we rent a video?Ē We rented two, one being the documentary about Klaus Nomi, which Danny saw while I was gone. It was
. I didnít know that much about him & thought Iíd only remembered him from
Urgh! A Music War
. Klaus Nomi wasnít just weird-beyond-weird, he was amazingly talented and his story is moving. More looked familiar than Iíd expected, and having been in my late teens to early 20ís in NY in those days, there were some blasts from the past.
Today was too hot and sunny, and our anniversary. Wish it could always conveniently fall on a Sunday. Last year, which I wrote about then, we were at a beautiful wedding. Nevertheless, that marriage ended some months ago - an awful story weíve heard that I wonít go into.
We celebrated our 19th by going to a very nice restaurant owned by a friend of ours. Sheís a singer and Danny had been in her band. Towards the end of our brunch, we were the only customers left and she gave us dessert ďon the house.Ē
19 years has flown by.
I wrote some random thoughts, sentences on paper.
See what I wrote earlier about holding onto the music of your youth? Yes, I mostly do, but not always. Iíd rather hear a young, inspired band kick ass than to hear
for the five-trillionth time!
A partial list of women I admire:
I went looking for antacids; heartburn, ugh. So, what happens if you donít have
acid in your stomach? Does that ever happen? Is that where indigestion comes from? Do I want to know?
Iím taking a free Spanish class. What words I know, I remember from junior high and high school classes added to whatever Iíve picked up in these many years. I couldnít even begin to hold down a conversation in Spanish. As with everything, I wish Iíd learned a lot more when I was younger; itís much harder to retain anything now. One of my goals is to write my 100 Words one day entirely in Spanish, and for it to be grammatically correct. I have a long way to go; is it too late to learn? Estoy cansada. Buenas noches.
Out of ideas.
The other painting in this room is larger, looks to be about 3x as long as it is wide. From a flea market in Jacksonville, FL. The artist was murdered, I was told.
Left of center, the large sun creates wisps of golden clouds threaded above and through it, trailing off into shades of orange and sienna, brushing blue clouds above and illuminating the low tide. The sea, calm but steadily rolling, crests in two broken lines of foam. Many blues, yellows, oranges. A ship, far away on the horizon, looks like a tanker or a freighter.
The Amazing Hiccup Cure
My dear friend, Jeannie taught me this.
Drink water from a glass that you tightly cover with a cloth. In other words, drink through the cloth. Iíve used towels, then switched to 4-thick layers of paper towels. Just hold it tightly with your hands. Iíve found that you donít have to fill the glass up all the way, just be sure to finish all the water. For extra stubborn hiccups, try holding your breath in while you drink, which I do anyway to be sure. I drink the water quickly, which also seems to help.
Iím sitting here near 2 am with not a clue what to write. ThinkingÖ Should I write about Rianne? When all else fails, thereís always cats. Rianne was my first cat who came with my first apartment. I miss her so much, my little gray. Long story, better told when Iím not so tired. While I write this, Serena is begging to go outside. No way. Danny just got home. He usually gets home this late or later after a gig. Thatís why I rarely go hear his band play. Now Cato is starting in; heís not going out, either.
In part of my dream, I was in an indoor artificial rainforest. Lots of monkeys, very small and cute. They were (according to the dream) baby spider monkeys, some wearing tiny white diapers. You could pick monkeys up, but you had to be very careful because their bites were dangerous. I picked one or two up and didnít get bitten. I worried that there were too many and told the person who made and owned the rainforest that he needed to get them spayed and neutered, they were reproducing too much. I think this came from having watched Bob Barker.
The first Fatherís Day without Dad. Itís been rough lately, thinking about his passing. It was January. He had just turned 86 in December. Itís hard not to think about his fall and the terrible condition I heard he was in and how the hospital had him strapped in as he begged to be let up. Iím so angry. Iím glad for my time with him last year. I brought things of his home, souvenirs of remembrance, to treasure the things he treasured. I treasure his poetry most of all. Dad was a very talented poet when he was young.
I teach beads. Conversation came around where I told my student that Iím Jewish, too. I said I was looking for electric yartzeit candles. Dad passed away in January, but Iím thinking ahead. Mom wouldnít burn a real candle all night, and Iíd rather not, so I want to bring her one and have another for myself. My student brought me one as a thank you for teaching her. I feel like she shouldnít have, but it was so nice. She included some other things: little candles, printed prayers. Iím not religious, but I treasure my culture all the same.
I appreciate Mom keeping me informed of things, especially the legal matters weíre dealing with. But some of it is not easy to hear because itís so trivial. Sometimes Iíd rather not hear every detail of every doctorís appointment. And she went to Costco and bought a bag of oranges that was too big so she split it with a friend who took a few and paid $3Ö Why is she going to Costco in the first place? Itís all gigantic quantities and sheís alone. Maybe because Dad liked going to Costco. Maybe going there makes her feel accomplishment.
Mom calls pretty often. Iíve been feeling like when she asks whatís going on with me, she doesnít care, doesnít have patience to listen to much of a reply. Itís part of her general impatience which undoubtedly has to do with her age. It made me sad to realize that. Most of my life, Iíd felt I could talk about my feelings and all sorts of things.
I was wrong; Mom is still my Mom. I was very depressed and I couldnít help but tell her. She really was helpful and comforting, and her age had dimmed none of it.
Came to NY last year on a momentís notice; stayed 2 months - family matters. My brother & I visited the Tenement Museum one weekend & while on the Lower East Side, I bought a suitcase, ďBlackpaw,Ē a brand Iíd never heard of. I really like it. In Atlanta, my husband grabbed it by the telescopic handle - something you should never do. Turns out the manufacturer is in the same town where my friends live. What are the odds of that? When I came back in Ď07, my friends drove me to Blackpaw. The man there repaired it for a very low price.
Iíve hadnít been on depression medication in a long time. Years, actually. Iíve always hated the side effects and it seemed they werenít doing anything for me. Okay, Iím trying a new one. Again, the side effects were not good. I especially dislike the shaky feeling, and I think at first, it made me worse - gave me anxiety. The side effects are lessening. I feel a very slight possible mood lift. This is the fastest Iíve known one to work, if itís working. I donít expect miracles, of course. Iíll give it a chance. I donít really have a choice.
Watching too much TV. So, what did you do this weekend? No one wants to admit to watching TV. Itís a good way to stay air conditioned. I watch everything from SpongeBob to The History Channel & more. I get sick of the news channels, though. I should be more aware of news events, but it gets so depressing. When itís not depressing, itís ridiculous - about celebrities and reality TV shows. I canít stand the conservative pundits. We both love
The Daily Show
, but canít stay awake lately. Movies, I can watch over & over. Watched most of
On The Waterfront
Most people are probably good, always. But itís a fearsome world, full of con artists, scammers, embezzlers, hate-mongers, war-mongers, animal abusers, child abusers, all sorts of abusers, molesters, thieves, liars, murderers, terrorists, much corruption in politics, business and you-name-it. The media throws it at us constantly, besides what we experience first hand. What is it about human nature that is so defective that causes this? Is it desperation or greed? Is it sickness; is it need? Is it confusion? What is bred into us? How many thoughtless, horrible choices are made in bitterness from bad luck?
Awful heat. It rained a little which turned into steam rising from the pavement of the bypass. Weíre lucky to not have been affected by the fires this past spring. We could smell the smoke sometimes. Thatís how far it traveled.
Enduring the heat is not new to me; maybe Iím just hating it more. Maybe itís worse, too. I donít like any extreme, but who does? Iíve become so dependent on air conditioners. I always think of when Dad used to tell me that when he & my aunts were kids, theyíd sleep on the fire escape in the summer.
As with most of my dreams, either I am or we are living in a house or apartment other than where we really live. I donít remember many details; it was large, dark and complicated. There may have been other people there. We heard a riot was expected, a very big riot. This meant we had to gather our 3 cats together and put them in a safe place - a room in the house. I said that we should bring in the 2 neighbor cats for safety, too. (We feed these cats: they need it.) I donít remember much more.
At 13, I decided on art lessons, so Mom took me to the Art Students League and signed me up. She took me to look in on a class. This was all new to me. As we stood by the wall, a man wheeled a real skeleton past me - what a fright! The students came back from the break. A woman got up on the platform, lifted the dashiki over her head and was completely nude. What a shock! I had NO idea what an art class was. I attended the Saturday morning kidsí classes; it was a great experience.
In the Saturday childrenís class at the Art Studentsí League in 1973, one dayÖ itís odd: in my mindís eye, I see it out of the window but also from standing on 57th Street. Maybe I saw it from the window, then went downstairs during my break. It was the Vietnam veterans coming home. A few black limos riding slowly by. Some cars mustíve been convertibles because a handful of men in uniform were standing, there were other people - and total silence. It was not a celebration, it was like... numbness, sadness. Very few people stood, watching this silent parade.
Started thinking about the topic of looking for good memories, so I thought of my first art lessons. Actually, my very first was learning oil painting from a neighbor. Still have the landscape on canvas board somewhere. Then at the Art Studentís League childrenís class, it was the first time in a classroom situation where I felt I was treated with kindness like an adult, not talked down to. The best: the classí first showing in the little gallery on the same floor. I was especially proud of one particular still life; the wicker-covered wine bottle was very good.
A fairly typical Saturday. I did very little all day besides avoiding the heat. I made a simple bracelet to match the necklace I decided to wear. Itís important to wear jewelry to the bead classes I teach. Again, my classes have been making but with very few students, though that makes teaching easier. I call it my
class, and I had 2 students today: a pair of friends who are nurses. The basics I teach are what I learned years ago from someone who had a home business. Another fond memory Iíll probably tell you about some time.
The Tip Jar