REPORT A PROBLEM
Yes, I've caught up to the month's 100 Words Project!
All the while sitting here, answering the question should anyone ask: What makes you successful in accomplishing this goal?
And I would say right this instant:I'm so lonely. I think I'm learning to bide my loneliness with the discipline it takes to do the things I like to do but too often do not, out of ennui/melancholy/resentment ...
My birthday is in a few weeks, and so many marvelous things I will have done by then, in and out of joyous discipline.
I spoke with my father tonight. He sounded weary -- and why wouldn't he be? seeing as his brain is crumbling, he's drugged to the gills, and he's barely eating. Plus he'd spent a long afternoon at the university with Nancy.
My reaction was two-fold: my sympathies are limited when remembering the appalling damage he did to his children, yup, including me; and my thinking "Is this a precursor for what may happen to me at 80? dementia or Alzheimer's or whatever it is he has.
Thank God I've never been so cruel, so de-loved.
Yay! I can donate my used books to Cleveland Park Library! This means that I don't have to schlep them to Boulder, although I might get cash-in points for them. And that I don't have to throw them away,
I have so few "sins" I consider important in my life, but ill-disposal of books is definitely one of them, it feels so wrong to throw one away, except for something filthy or in some way unworthy,
Tenley Library isn't yet up and running -- therefore Jill's news is welcome, a relief, a reprieve from sin.
Choked with lust is what drew me to mention Chris Cornell on Audioslave, I remember the feeling with G and My Kurd, the blood became so thick it could not move, it stayed and thickened, more.
In a sick delicious sensation that cannot be willed away, I didn't want to will away, it's not a passive energy, it sits waiting, utterly magnetized, begging pleading beseeching imploring.
Ah me what a soul ... distraction? distortion? deformation? self-strengthener G was for me. Who would I be now without ... us then?
Not him, but me with him.
But why not sandals after the divorce?
Because I didn't understand how the old rules couldn't work anymore.
With Chris I could be ME after years of a wretched existence in an unhappy family home. Happy to wear sandals, the clothes I wanted to, the personality I was -- regardless of my deformed toes.
I just don't remember being self-conscious about them until ... the divorce? When obviously I in my all-ness had been rejected, and I couldn't sort out my toes from the rest of it.
My feet freed, at last.
All those years when I didn't wear sandals, suffering through the summers in shoes. When did I stop?
The last pair I remember wearing was the green strappy pair I bought to go with the t-shirt dress I wore to my sister Nancy's first wedding. From Lord & Taylor's somewhere along the Main Line? And then when Chris and I broke up it seems to me I wore them for job interviews or some such -- I cringe in retrospect.
It took me all the years to Boulder, shopping with Cecilia, to love sandals, forget the toes.
I've come to like the color red as an accent -- for glasses, my pocket agenda, flower-pots, chair covers, mugs, belts, scarves, earrings, trays ...
This wasn't always so, as my mother has always loved the color red for her clothes and lipstick and indeed it suits her. And since I've not gotten along with her for how many years, red is out as a color to choose.
Except very occasionally when I buy something to wear that's red and it suits me. That doesn't necessarily please me.
Too much for a color to bear?
Am I grown-up yet? I wonder sometimes if I will ever feel that I fit in, dressed the right way, using the right manners, truly part of the group.
What group? Oh, I don't know, whatever group I'm in. Sure, I'll feel at home in a book group reading a book I'm interested in. Or with a good pal when we're at a museum or doing lunch together.
But here I am, yearning for love and a future, thinking: How in the world would I ever find anyone much less keep him?
Who knew that I would ever like to watch TV? Or to keep the TV on, even muted, as company during a lonely day? In fact, I've been stretching those "on" hours ...
Once upon a time I would scoff at people, friends or not, for watching TV; I considered it to be a Stupids kind of activity. I listened to a tiptop radio channel, thank you very much
But here I am in Washington DC with no decent radio channel to tune in to. And so I watch and/or listen to FOX News TV programs.
Sitting here and looking out the window, I'm sad to remember other windows, other views, former lives.
It's autumn after all, the season for memories, nostalgie, regrets.
Amongst all my memories I cannot now relive, what is it I want to happen, new?
Of course, another love, a new passion to write upon the slate of me until the old marks have been resignified.
I want a gladness to be alive, with an effervescence of delight each morning. Elan. eclat.
I'm 59 -- the year to get a grip for real.
Listening to Audioslave, Chris Cornell's voice is choked with lust -- and with grunge style, of course. Just to listen to him is to bring back Boulder of three years ago when I first heard him -- Ceci recommended.
Genius music, genius albums, Chris Cornell of Soundgarden and Rage Against the Machine who was lacking their lead singer at the time.
I'll always remember when I asked Johnny why this was such a big deal and he said: Rage Against the Machine are legendary!
Grunge, Boulder and Melissa (Anthropologie/Gypsy Jewel, The Leaf, BB&B) coincided.
It breaks my heart to be sitting here amidst my things from Turkey -- drinking from ceramic 'glasses' I last used in Ankara under circumstances of a city panorama, love, work, friendship, projects.
It's not that I'm without that here in DC but my life now is all in transition: friendships, work, plans for the future, thoughts of love.
Boohoo poor me. But you know, how natural to feel the break -- the loss or diminishment of friendships, of course the loss of work and those particular projects.
Love is what I need, what I desire.
Ah, and what shall I photograph today? What would be "the " photograph to hold my day-memory close and retrievable?
Straightaway I would say to someone else if s/he asked the question: Surely you must wait till the end of the day, then, to shoot? Or take so many during the day that you'll have one to pick that will answer your question best.
Yet couldn't it be so that every morning we wake up with a predisposition to live our day with a certain spirit?
Procrastination? One of my worst flaws.
Whether it's due to DNA or fear of failure or reluctance to produce anything short of A+ work -- blame my mother -- I more often than not put off doing even the simplest thing until the last moment or even beyond.
Yes, I fear this is getting worse rather than being remedied. Notice How I've put the problem -- I almost used the more anodyne word issue -- in the passive voice.
For who readily springs to admit responsibility for a (hey, presumably) self-inflicted problem?
Today - do better!
An antidote to procrastination? Do it forward!
The first action Ill take today is write and submit this entry, may the program accept it.
Then I'll write the paper I should have had ready for Joan last Thursday, and then another 300 word essay for her, and another? Each with its practice outline.
And to get two other monkeys off my back:I pledge to call the heating company and ask about turning on the furnace for this season; and I'll call Kyle about getting the rain water projects done.
Since I'm on a roll -- I'll do this one forward too, and then my "paper" for Joan @ 750 words and then one @ 300 words, I'll try it close.
Otherwise ... it's simply more procrastination ...
What I am also going to do -- is make a life, that intriguing concept.
Of course, I have a life BUT not one I can readily display as a "package" to describe elegantly. How much fun will this be -- to re-examine my life and tweak same, to fill in the blanks.
First things first? A wardrobe that works!
Christopher Columbus as performance artist? Wicked brilliant! Hats off to my Buddy AG Jim C!
Visiting Cap2 TM at the Woman's National Democratic Club yesterday was lovely indeed. I began with a chip on my shoulder for some reason, being needlessly - ain't it always so - defensive, and then participating and warming up.
I met some nice people, I shone and encouraged others to shine. And I think Jim's interested. If only he had a stronger hand grab ...
Now is the time for me to "woman up" and polish my performance art - everyday a jewel!
It's such a good feeling -- getting through a worthy to-do list. I've washed the kitchen floor and raked and swept and edged the front weeds-rocks-mud, hung up good stuff on the walls, unpacked a few boxes, the dishwasher is going, I made soup and I'll make cornbread.
Yet to do? go out to 7-eleven and get milk and TP, more boxes, how can I chip away at my studio? More boxes, enough to make space to put the carpet down.More boxes.
It's a good day, indeed, when I am so productive.
TV -- who knew?
Actually, everybody else knew that TV is a powerful communicator, for every kind of message.
TV's made an extraordinary difference in the way I know the news. I started watching Fox News after Ceci had read a NYT article about Glen Beck and suggested we watch: We did, and never looked back.
The TV personalities and the news covered, especially that news NOT covered in the MSM ... I haven't gotten over the shock of realizing how criminally complicit the MSM has been in the distortion of our political process and results.
Rationing passion to fit the format -- a How-To.
First of all, keep the "words written" box in sight at all times in order to know how far you've written, how much space remains.
Second, don't let the entirety be the enemy of one step of progress; even though someone may seem limper than warranted, if she's better than what's out there now, that's a good thing and worthy of our support.
Third, remember that there is always more bad news, much more: It's worse than you think. You'll never run out of material.
Photo safari to the Sculpture Garden - a success?
To the extent that I learned more about composition, that I used more of my camera's features, and that I saw a part of DC I wouldn't have sought out, then: Yes, the safari was a success.
The day was beautiful, I rubbed shoulders with people who take photography seriously and learned what they would/wouldn't recommend.
But I don't care about op-art/pop-art. And the teacher, although lively and responsive, wasn't good enough. But then, at this stage I require much hand-holding.
What shall I do in Boulder?
A great question, because my time is limited and I must choose carefully: get my hair done, get a man-pedi-wax, buy the Daily Camera and Denver Post, shop for ? at my Life-style Safeway, get my prints done at Mikes Camera, shop for clothes and small carpets at Target, shoes at Two Sole Sisters, clocks and forcing bulbs at CVS, say Hello at Gypsy Jewel, of course Whole Foods, take a hike around Coots Lake with Susan, anything at McGuckins?
OMG of course Anthropologie and Sephora and Kitchen.
How much fun is this -- coming up with great ideas all the time.
All day, everyday, I've been terrific about developing ideas for my blog, alert to photo-ops, feeling my ways into creativity, happy, forward-looking.
Sure, I've got my melancholies but I lay them at the door of my on-off taking of HRT; I'm late in getting further medication and so I've been spaaacing the pills out ...
Really, although I'd love to find some love, and focus-up my style, and get a move on with my art -- Life is Good.
Watching Fox news every evening -- usually entertaining=attention-keeping and informative.
In fact, I never thought I'd get the bulk of my news from a TV program! How I put down those who did, years ago. Yet, to my non self-disparaging, TV has changed over the last 10-20 years, and Fox News has changed the news landscape.
For the first several DC months I subscribed to WaPo BUT the news coverage is such that their reportage is biased. I enjoyed it for the arts.
I miss my Daily Camera and Denver Post!
I still don't enjoy Toastmasters USA.
I remain so disappointed! Those years of TM in Ankara were a marvel, at least at the beginning. Perhaps that was due mostly to the Barbaras Gulen and Cortez-Grieg. But my experiences with TM stateside have been different. Members here are not as educated nor socially adept. Hmmm ... and maybe not as appreciative of having me as a member?
If I'm smart I'll get my DTM this year and then simply not join again. Or goodness knows so NOT sign on as Area Governor once more. I'm so done.
Thank goodness I found the over-due library book!
Up the street across Wisconsin Avenue we have a book-in-a-box until the new Tenley Library is completed in December. Yup -- I have my new library card and DCPL purple tote bag. And finally I started taking books out, despite the slim pickings available.
But I made the error of ignoring my takings gone overdue and whammy! the fine is no longer 2 cents a day but ... 25?
I paid out real money, then found the book, and will take out items again.
Was Joan worth it? Were her fees in line with what she provided over the 4 sessions?
The answer, of course, is always going to be Yes and No. Because I hired her without knowing who she was AND even more importantly my writing needs don't have so much to do with writing per se as with my bad habits of poor discipline and procrastination.
What I did get from Joan's tutoring was some guidance about certain types of essay writing, which was excellent, and comments on my too-loose style. Now I'm much more aware.
The most valuable aspect to Joan's "tutoring" was bingo-ing right to what I need to do to improve: better word choice, more supporting facts and examples to my assertions, to remember that I'm not preaching to the choir but trying to change minds.
I start off strong and memorably, do pretty well in the body but then tend to not come together well enough to come to an effective conclusion, although my conclusion is strong and memorable.
Thus -- I can go with my stem-winder
careful word choice and more facts and examples.
Just who is my favorite Fox News person? It used to be Glenn Beck, but recent;y he's lost his mojo/for me -- is it him or me? Then it was ... Greta? Bret? Neil?Never Shep. Bill's become a "tool" as Johnny says.
Nowadays I'd say it is Bret -- he's sane, masculine, sensible, on target, he has interesting panelists, and he did a great job interviewing Obama. Is he charismatic? No. Compelling? No.
As much as I admire the charm and professional courtesies of a Huckabee, I'm not hooked. Megyn? Not completely.
Halloween this year -- I'm not ready! I had been readier until ... local Pesky Squirrel gnawed through BOTH pumpkins right at our front door! Now the broken shells are collapsing in the back garden.
So, we'll go out to get one-two more pumpkins and some candy, I'm partial to the sourdough pretzels in small bags packed up by Old Thyme, Johnny says we really must have some real candy, and he recommends Reeses Pieces.
I'll look for some black construction paper to make myself a witch's hat and eye-mask to go with black clothes. BOO!
An Ode to My Vornado
I'm sitting in the velvet path of my Vornado's toasty draft. Not that the house is what I'd call nippy, mind you; but the heat's not yet on, and so the mild heat from this little machine is very comforting and snug.
Dwelling on sitting in this very chair over the summer, it was all of August that I sat right here in the heat and humidity of unacceptable DC weather exactly in front of my companionable Vornado turned to "fan."
I have created a fine summer-winter oasis.
The Tip Jar