Say WHAT?

So. Not much to report today, haven't spoken to the family yet but I did get a little note from my mom. Maybe I'll go out to IL and take care of my dad for a week or so next month, we'll see how that goes.
This morning I rode the pooch around the park in circles for a while and can't help but wonder how she does it, inside cooped up all day long with nothing to do but sleep... I wonder what she thinks about? Probably nothing, and her kong most likely only entertains her for less than an hour or so... lucky dawg.
...
more later, kinda blank right now.

update...?

He's allright... fell asleep halfway thru a sentence on the phone this morning.

Robin said the surgery was successful last night - that 3 out of his 4 arteries were clogged to shit and he had a minor heart attack... I'm sure that if he hadn't followed thru on his paranoid dad going to the hospital thing that he would have had a "major" one sooner rather than later.

Anyway I'm sure he'll be fine.

Wicked.

So.

I woke up with a screaming headache this morning, my brain swollen and about to start squirting out of my ears and nose... with a little love, fuzzy kisses, cup of frothy coffee and a couple advil the holiday started.

What a Lazy day, with a Capital L.

Started off after remedying my noggin with watching a little bit of "fur" an imaginary story of Diane Arbus. (Weird.)

Then breakfast sammich of egg and havarti and salami, then on the bikes with Sandy to the park, where lots of families bbq'd and celebrated a day off from work and fog with brews and company.

Got a call from an old "friend" if you could ever call him that, Brandon, who after speaking with reminded me of some of the old days in NM, pyromania and oddity, I kinda didn't want to hang out with him after talking with my family...

Who, told me by way of wills that my father had taken himself to a hospital somewhere in Nebraska after (probably a breakfast of greasy spoon cholesterol filled crap) feeling some "chest pain" and had undergone surgery at that moment.

I still haven't heard from anyone yet, and I'm about to call Josh and see what the deal is now, hours after the initial phone call he should be hopefully out of surgery. I don't know, how long does heart bypass clogged artery surgery last? What is it, angina?

If he doesn't stop eating donuts, greasy cafeteria food, burgers and fast food after this episode, it'll stop him.

So fingers crossed for the old man. I wish I was on my way to help out with the truck packed full of all his goods on the way to Illinois, I wish I were there to hug my brother and mother and see my old man to knock some sense into his guilty unhealthy jewish head again...

BAH.

Well found a photo of a baby version of Sandy (spittin' image if I do say so myself) on some cuteproject.com website to cheer me up-

umbbum bumm

I do feel like an idiot slob for not going to Muir beach/woods with J this morning, but I definitely do not blame myself for not wanting to freeze my already semi-sick ass off and spend hours in the chilly fog bored of my bottom while he loads in/out and Sandy and I can't take any more foggy hiking...
So I preemtively saved myself from all my dreaded

Fucking hell. Flogger just erased my "saved" draft up to here and wouldn't publish. GARWOINGDNGAD.

what i was SAYING is that I didn't go and I'm glad I didn't. We still went for a frigid breezy couple of hour long bike ride thru the park and stuff, and hit walgreens on the way back. And I'm glad I have blankets and my couches and my cuddly pooch to ride out this lonely day, because I miss the shitdick and hope he's not having too crappy of a gig, in fact eating lots of ribs and drinking lots of beer and driving back here safely ASAP so I can attack him with gooey things to say.

fog

I'm pretty sure I've already previously mentioned this too-often-said phrase attributed to Mark Twain (but for some reason it's a rumor whether he really said it or not...) "The coldest winter I ever knew was a summer in San Francisco..." and, it's true.

Last night J came home from working another hellish gig and was nonstop complaints about the frigidity inside the house... but my argument is: the bathroom molds over and smells stanky rank if the window's closed, and going back to my days of youth- year round sleeping near the window with the breeze on my face, I need the fresh air, especially in such fat and disgusting company... : P

Anyway with layers on, Sandy and I spent the morning kinda straightening up the house- I unpacked some more books and put them on the stand next to my bed, in hopes that I will be more inspired to read, and I laughed when I unpacked the 3rd book with a bookmark in place, (a habit probably gained from my mom, I'm always reading at least 2 at a time)... Still reading Wicked and Sophie's Choice.

I vacuumed and swept a bit, and then we went for a long bike ride through the park trails, and to the beach, where Sandy got into quite a long and aggressive play session with a group of big dogs, she was almost learning to stand up for herself! But along came Mr. Ranger Man on his high horse and that ended the play sesssion but not late enough to put a stop to the parade of dogs that crashed into the unsuspecting couple out for their foggy Saturday stroll on the seashore... Made me laugh- that's what you get for walking right into a group of maniac pooches!

Then since she was covered in sand and mud, I took a path back through the horse training arena where there is a water spigot off the trail and sprayed her down with some funny looks from passers-by. She is too adorable with water!

And, now, I'm home staying warm (trying, anyway) and reluctant to do dishes or make myself a salad, which I'll get to soon when the laziness subsides... Ha, like that'll ever happen. And, then to watch the rest of the Stand.

Word.

tgif

Oh bother...
It was SO ridiculously hard to get out of bed this morning... Aside from Sandy leaning up against my leg and Jeff incessantly snoring, I wanted to fade back into dreams so badly... And, I've been lollygagging my way thru editing more today, re-vamping up the promos to include a "previously on" bit as well as a "to be continued..." to suck in the viewers more, easy enough.
Oh bother...
I've been trying to get ahold of mary mary lately, and hoping she's doing well in HI, not working too hard and getting some good snorkeling in, things I wish I could get a whole lot of right about now.
I've also been researching a little bit about taking the pooch to NM for Zozobra this year, and hoping that it's not going to be too stressful for her or too expensive for me. I know we'd love to have her there and she'd get a kick out of NM and Sesame, if he's not picky with her...
I just bought some boots, some winter ones and those harness motorcycle ones, sorry Jeff you're just going to have to deal with the cheesey fact that we have similar pairs or buy something else! MwahHahahahaaa.
So whatevah
threeday weekend here I come
;-)

AAAAAAAAAaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!1

Gad.
There's only so much fucking sitting on my ass editing this shit I can do in a week!!!
I'm going NUTS. I've edited 4 updates in 4 days, spitted a movie and done all the promos too. I"M GOING INSAANNENEAAEKLNEAOINFI NOE:IGHE OIFN;gijh ai;knd[oeraifj

genocide/apartheid

Last night we watched "Blood Diamond" about the trade and smuggling of diamonds in Sierra Leone... they said a lot about how killing each other in Africa is a way of life... It was depressing.
But, seems like all over the world, killing each other is a way of life. Stupid homo sapiens always do things to kill ourselves, self medicate, make life a little more "interesting", always on the edge of constant crisis.
What right do we have? I suppose we can only do what we are bred to do.

how come I can never think of a decent title for these posts?

This is from a letter/message/posty thing to Nato last week.
I figured it still sums up some of the things going on for me today, a week later. And, it's still inspirational on writing...

I spent the day in my head, again... And it doesn't bother me, although when I say that to myself I feel the familiar twitch below my eye that signifies it's not entirely true.
My mom used to say she saw my dad's nose twitch when he'd lie, and I remember trying to make him lie about something, and staring at his face, trying to catch the twitch. I never really saw it.

Now, when I lie to myself about not being lonely, I can't even wait for the answer of whether or not I believe myself, because no matter, I already know.

Once, while on the phone with my brother not long after I'd left NM, he told me not to be bothered by lonliness, in the end all you really have is yourself. Years later a fortune from a fortune cookie seconded his thoughts: "If you can befriend yourself, you'll never be lonely". I keep it my wallet, synonymously I keep my brother in my heart.

He's doing it- and I'm proud of him. To Italy, to Spain, to British Columbia- already been offered to take his Masters for free. See, he's got a silly blog like me, too... (I think, he doesn't tell me much anymore, so most of my info are rumors from mom, or otherwise.) He's humble; he had support in numbers show up for what he called his "junior recital" but was more in reality a real concert, with pride beaming from his modest fingers, bowing and plucking and beaming along with Beethoven and Dittersdorf and concertos for viola and bass... and a part of me feels left behind. I left myself behind when I shunned the violin; at the time it wasn't my wont of expression, and now a piece of me feels missing that I haven't really filled... maybe it wasn't mine to fill.

But to hear that what's yours to feel and enjoy, stress and embrace, makes me smile. Maybe you've got a handle on some lonliness with it, at times, when it allows you to take it in and breathe it, relinquish yourself to song, expression...

The everyday gets easier, and gets harder again, like an ocean with surf that takes dogs and babies and divers to its depth. I sink into singularity when it comes, and wash it off when it goes, down the drain yet I know it's only sitting there in the graywater tanks, being wasted, not being cleaned for use elsewhere... waiting.

So, I ride my danger-bike to work in the morning, spend hours shooting and editing racy content that is shockingly immoral to most, yet gives more the release and entertainment that they crave, and it pays my bills, and I know it opens some doors and closes others. Now to say it doesn't bother me, this time is not a lie. But it bothers me that it bothers those close to me, not knowing how to explain why fetishists like fetishes, and why I have no problem feeding off of their fetishes for my survivial. An article came out recently that made me sigh with relief, realizing that the Mass Media has somewhere been infiltrated by those who are more in the know, and not afraid to shed light on what life is really like, not push more shame and lie that everything is okay.

And, I come home to escape to canine slobber, hair concentrated on every inch of every item I sit on, wear and walk on... She takes me to an alternate universe, one where nothing matters but smells and fresh air, water, trails, shaggy tails, balls and love. I can't stay mad at her for long, when she snags a tortilla off the counter or doesn't come out from under the bleachers at the park, the sniffing too overwhelming.

She takes me away from the stress of everyday life... and brings her own to it. But, c'est la vie... step by step and day by day...

Ciao.

i want i want i want

to go to the beach
should i pack up a bag and put it on my bike?
trail the pooch along leashed beside me?
or walk...
the 20+ blocks to the ocean and back
riding there would be faster
tire the pup out quicker
walking there would be a pain in the ass with a heavy bag
unless i can stuff my backpack full
and it will still be heavy
but easier to ride the bike...
chadummb
that's what we'll do

daw

What the hell is this "Loyalty Day" bullshit? Propaganda for more support the war shit or you're a treasonist? This is majorly uncalled for. It's a scene out of some movie or something... the president reaching to the farthest confines of someone else's soul to pull out this crap that is, obviously written by someone paid to write things like this, and thought up by some advisor for no good reason at all.
This country has its head up its arse, and no good thing can come of this. What, are we supposed to wear red-white-and blue on this day, too? Fly the Flag or face persecution?
WHY does he think we are the bestest over everyone else? Fcuk. Taht. Bullshte.

Funny how it's Amnesty International Day in the rest of the world.

Anyway. here's another darling photo of the postcard perfect pupper.




bah.