d i s c o v e r i n g monsters

The Great Techno Migration

2009-03-23T12:57:00.005-06:00

I've been slowly trying to move myself over for years...

It is still a work in progress, and no doubt the look of it may change daily or weekly, until I find what I like.

But for now, please follow... My New Wordpress Site.

Along for the Journey.

2009-03-23T11:55:00.006-06:00

Utah Desert.

2009-03-23T11:40:00.006-06:00

On the docket: develop film. Until then, here are a few shots from the digital camera. I can only take credit for the first two, the last one is Sean's.

Roadtrip.

2009-03-23T11:18:00.007-06:00

Six hour road trip to Arches National Park in the Utah Desert. The drive & the desert were good for my soul. A brilliant way to begin a new season.

Butter, Berries, Cream & Spice

2009-03-19T15:02:00.007-06:00

Because of her and this I decided to make my own homemade butter. And can I just say.. what the hell have I been eating for 25 years?!!? Because this.. this... ahhhhhh. I now spend my time dreaming of what I could put butter on. I actually had to stop myself from making a "butter sandwich" consisting of just butter between two cookies. I know right? But I'm still currently having to stop myself from making that sandwich.

This butter... if it is possible to make a tangible form of grace - this is it. This is grace. This butter. There is no conceivable way in which I am deserving of this - so, grace. Grace literally melting in my mouth. This afternoon I licked some of the butter off of my finger, and just started to cry. This tangible, edible grace. (And if you want - out of convenience and ignorance I've been eating shit for butter, and this is what He had for me. Don't tell me there isn't a perfectly packaged Sunday school lesson in this. Perhaps, minus the word shit. Maybe...)

For a mid-afternoon snack, and in an attempt to not completely clog my arteries, I had a bowl of blackberries & strawberries with cream, sugar, and cinnamon. It's over. I'm in love. I have a difficult time with Church, "Church", this church, that church, my church, your church, and, and, and, and, and - but what I do not have a difficult time with is this - this makes sense. This makes every word clear. This makes what is hard, understandable. This is joy. This is sustaining. This is grace. This is love.

Butter Love. Berry Love. Cream Love. Spice Love. God Love.

Sometimes You Need It

2009-03-18T01:16:00.004-06:00

I don't know if you need the laugh, or the booty grab, or both - but here it is. I look forward to spring break - I look forward to taking some awesome photos around the city & beyond.

Until then, I'll leave you with this gem of a photo... ohhh the numerous interpretations that can be made. It brings a smile to my face every-single-time. And after finishing a paper at 1:22a, I needed that smile.

Today's Special

2009-03-12T16:48:00.005-06:00

Chocolate. Bacon. Chocolate Chip Cookie.

Sean, Kenna, and I walked down to Marczyk's this afternoon to pick up milk, heavy cream, fresh mozzarella, coffee beans, salami, applewood smoked bacon, lemon poppy seed scone mix... and these cookies.

I had no intention of buying these cookies - the owner talked me into it. (As if it took much convincing?) These will be a staple in every picnic basket I pack for the rest of my life.

Valrhona 70% Chocolate, Niman Ranch Bacon, Plugra Butter, NOCO Eggs, AP Flour, Madagascar Vanilla, Sugar, Brown Sugar, Baking Soda, Salt.

Before My Toes Freeze - The Neighborhood Part 3

2009-03-11T19:28:00.012-06:00

I. Love. Alleys.

The sound my shoes make on the broken pieces of gravel, glass, stone, dirt - ahhhh. Quiet. Calm. An odd secretive world. The city is screaming with its sirens and people, and then I turn a corner and ... shhhhhhhhhHHHHHHHPP. Gone. If I, someday in my photographic wanderings, find a secret garden in a back alley, well, then it will be true love.

A peek at my walk this evening. Before my toes became too cold to move. Before my camera battery died (which wasn't funny - and it still isn't funny. Not. ok. to. joke. I'll announce when I'm ready to find the humor in this situation). There was terrible light, but the actual event was more important than what I ended up with.

A sample...

When You Need It Most

2009-03-10T21:53:00.002-06:00

It is on its way.

The Neighborhood Part II

2009-03-09T22:32:00.002-06:00

...Did you experience a fit of patriotism and give in to an overwhelming urge to immortalize your country on your living room wall?

No.

...Are you really into experiential night lights?

No.

... Is this an attempt to communicate feelings of duality and opposition?

No.

Oh. You live in "that area".. with "those" people...

...Right.

It would seem to follow rational, logical thought that if I live in "that area" with "those" people, that I am presumably by extension, also "those" people. I realize there is a distinction made for a myriad of reasons. I am not interested in having that discussion. Simply ironic and wonderfully hypocritical - the ostracizing of people so that one feels less ostracized. There does seem to be a prevailing sense of security in othering people.

The photo in actuality? The reflection of police, fire & ambulance lights on our living room wall. A typical evening near the "fax" of life. There is a sense of grounding, a changing of your view of life. Sterile life and gated communities - I'm not convinced of the benefit; I am yet to see the reward. If all we breed is more germaphobic, gate locking, poverty-fearing, privacy-obsessed children.... if that is our legacy, how heartbreakingly devastating.

I simply wonder, I simply ask - if you don't see it, if you pretend it is not there, does it go away? Are you more safe?

Pizza Night

2009-03-08T00:36:00.000-07:00

Finished my intensive weekend course of Horror films today at 4:00p, complete with a few classic falling-asleep-head-bobs on the bus on the way home. Realizing that I still needed to plow through a few hundred pages or so on cinema of the 1970s, I made myself an iced espresso and soaked up the last rays of sunshine on the "patio" behind our apartment. Reading completed, I glanced over a list of films deciding which one had the magical ability to help me turn out a fabulous paper... tonight. Not surprising, The Godfather (Francis Ford Coppola, 1972) found its way to the top. As I turned the film on to begin screening it before starting my paper (reviewing key scenes I might want to write about) the smell of fresh pizza dough, sauteed chicken, garlic, onion, mushrooms, chicken stock, olive oil, balsamic reduction and sundried tomatoes wafted their way into the living room. Needing a little reward as well as a good compliment to what was sure to be an incredible dinner we opened a bottle of Masciarelli Montepulciano d'Abruzzo. Film, food and wine = one satisfied girl.

Tomorrow on my way home I am picking up a very specific type of ricotta cheese at The Market for cannolis. It isn't finals week - but it is midterm week, and when you are somewhat successfully keeping all 18 credits worth of plates spinning, I believe cannolis, red wine, and left over pizza are in order.

Small Pieces.

2009-03-05T18:55:00.002-07:00

Good morning Denver. This morning I was out of the house early to greet the sun as it joined the living - or at least the showered, scrubbed, walking dead. This morning was an attempt to accomplish multiple things. One, soak up the last bits of summer weather before it snows on Saturday. Two, to plow through my weight in literature about world history in the years between the world wars. And three, to not break down.

I am hitting a wall. It happens every semester, but this semester - this semester... There is not enough time. I'm always behind. My writing is a cold, gloppy oatmeal. Ugly, unappetizing, and stale. I don't feel like myself, but I can't get past it. Stuck in a terrible fog of unoriginal thought. It seems I have lost my voice - that it is just out of reach.

There has been no time to grieve. No space. Sometimes I'm barely holding myself together. This part of my life, and the rest of my life intersect, and at that intersection there seems to be one ugly accident with confused people wondering around with bits of dirt in their hair. The claustrophobia of emotions, expectations, sickness, overwhelming feeling of a never ending, far too large commitment... overpowers me. I need out of the city for a moment. I need an expanse. Perhaps a road trip, and a stop in the middle of the Utah desert.

I am growing tired of the continual battle with education. I do not enjoy this. I am tired. I am tired of the continual striving toward being someone I am not. The constant battle - if I would just allow myself a bit of room... The real crux of it all - I am unfortunately good at what I do not enjoy. More simply out of perfectionism and fear than talent. It is hard and difficult to change.

"Too Late To Quit (Too Soon To Go Home)" by The Wallflowers popped up on my iTunes today - I often believe that God has a twisted, twisted sense of humor. Either that or it was a gentle reminder that I am sickeningly normal, and that I need to move on, and move out of myself, and into others.

Simple.

2009-03-04T10:17:00.002-07:00

I love simple food. Fresh baked bread. Salami. Pepperoncinis. Mayo.

Simple food - Food that you feel you could eat in the middle of a grassy field with the sun pouring down on you. Food that makes you want to run around. Food that speaks to your soul and your belly because it is simple. Food that gets eaten on cafe tables. Food that is fresh, and simple and has a taste explosion that knocks you down. Food that tastes like love in your mouth. Food that makes you smile. Food that makes you make noise, or roll your eyes back in your head. Food that makes you giggle. Food - the way we were supposed to react to it. Not the jam it in and go. Food as a part of life - not food as something we do to get from one point to another.

Winter Citrus. Spring herbs. Summer Berries. Fall Squash. I love it. I love planting it, growing it, fixing it, and eating it.

I know - I talk about food all the time. And yes, perhaps I plan entire days, or weeks around food, or the making of food, or the finding of food, but once you're in, you're in. Once you find your love of food, and then stumble upon other people who love food, the way you love food, then you're done. It's all over.

Spring[like] Days

2009-03-03T14:49:00.006-07:00

My lovely, lovely friend Rachel and I grabbed an impromptu espresso at The Market this morning. Quick and a bit chaotic, it didn't matter - we simply needed some face time. We talked about our lives, and about food & restaurants and about where we want to eat next. [Potager is at the top of our list, for those of you who are curious.] This family brings life to Sean and I in a way that is unique. They are honest, with hearts and souls that are ready to laugh and enjoy.

I thoroughly enjoyed my time with Rachel, the 70 degree sunshine weather, and my double espresso over ice.

It is these mornings that will sustain me through the inevitable spring onslaught of snow and school work.

Gwenevere Scout & Lyla Starr

2009-03-02T18:27:00.004-07:00

A few of the reasons it would be ok if Uncle Sean goes to medical school in California.

Kitchen Love

2009-02-25T10:03:00.005-07:00

A kitchen garden is what we have now that we live in the city. And although we miss our little yard, and hope to expand this out-of-control succulent/cacti garden into an herb garden as well - they seem to enjoy life on our kitchen windowsill. That and the love that emanates from our kitchen. Plant love, food love, music love, public radio love, baseball game love, college football love... you know - kitchen love.

Friday Morning Breakfast In Bed

2009-02-21T20:55:00.004-07:00

Accompanied with tower of books/texts to plow through before the weekend is over.

Preston Howard Burdette

2009-02-19T00:05:00.000-07:00

I will always remember the way you smelled - aftershave and doublemint gum. I am so thankful. I am so blessed. Camping trips, card games, New Years Eve parties... quite the Grandfather.

Just look at those two. They really lived life together. 65 years!

It will be quite the trip home to Bakersfield to mourn, to remember, to celebrate.

In My Head.

2009-02-18T23:06:00.004-07:00

A few of my required texts this semester

Stuck a bit in my head these days. Words are not flowing easily from head to page. Or from page to head for that matter. This semester is difficult, and it's leaving me feeling a bit wonky. My writing is becoming more repetitive, less original, and less cohesive. Everything is at a bit of a jumble.

This may have some correlation to the films I am studying (or the 18 credits that I'm taking). Cinema of the 1970s, Film Noir and Horror films. They are all emotionally taxing, demanding, and sophisticated in a way I will never be. Not to mention the fact that the women of the 1940s can make anyone feel slovenly. It's quite the one-two punch, to feel inadequate academically and physically. Not a pity party for myself, it is just that these actors, these directors, these writers - natural aptitude pours out of them in a way that I feel I will never muster the energy for. There are those who do effortlessly, and those who work long hours to appear to do simply, effortlessly. I am the latter.

To do all of it and to do nothing. I lean towards one while striving for the other.

What I need is a terribly good novel, a damn good cappuccino, and a long day in the park. The winter has been mild but it has felt long. Long. Dry. Cold. I feel drained and wind-whipped.

Tickets arrived today for a concert Sean and I are attending the day after finals week ends: Flight of the Conchords with Iron & Wine and Arj Barker at the Red Rocks Amphitheater. A big deal because we really don't attend concerts. But this one, this one I need. I simply have to get myself through to 16 May, so that I can restore the pieces of my soul I feel I am losing.

Red Rocks Amphitheater Lightening Storm

Beauty

2009-02-11T18:37:00.011-07:00

Shalene & Kongolo

Giovanni

Sean, Jeni, Matthew

Eric & Kongolo

Jordan & Travis

Jordan & Myself

The talented Travis himself.

I can only take credit for a few of these photos. Most of them come courtesy of our new friend Travis (who is fabulous by the way). This past weekend was one beautiful montage of people. Our camera battery died, hence the stealing of photos from someone I've only just met... However, I still feel shaken by the enormity of emotions and business that took place over the past few days.

This is what it is to be blessed.

Daily

2009-01-28T09:18:00.000-07:00

The dividing wall of books in our apartment.

At times it feels as if all my decisions are silly and inconsequential. Most often, that is quite honestly correct. And then at times they seem not only silly and inconsequential, but also unoriginal.

It's a lot to take on all at once - foolishness, inconsequential-ness & unoriginality.

More accurately it is probably more an issue of the wide birth of humanity. The unoriginality of it all, as melodramatic as that sounds. The coming to terms with, not only has most everyone gone through what you have, made the decisions you've made, and even made the ones you've yet to make - but they've even written about it. And some have even done that unfairly well.

I am so small, and mostly I am thankful. And often I am tired of being so silly, so small and so inconsequential.

It is then, and before then, and after then, that I know that I will never tire of being loved.

January's Breakfast

2009-01-27T09:17:00.001-07:00

Homemade bread with butter & honey.

Berries covered in cream.

Steaming fresh french press.

Mornings are simple & quiet lately. Just the way I love them.

Quarter Of A Century

2009-01-26T06:05:00.001-07:00

Red Velvet (my absolute favorite) Cupcakes from Sprinkles, and gifts from Anthropologie.

There is a lot I would change, and a lot I hope to change. Places I hope to grow, things I hope to hold on to. Places yet to be visited, and friends yet to be discovered...

Hello 25.

Hold 'em & Fold 'em

2009-01-18T14:39:00.019-07:00

Poker Night.

First a little lesson. Then a little wine. The dealing of chips. An agreement on what game should be played. The donning of a poker face. Cards shuffled. Game begins.

Chips up, down, rolling in & whittling away. Peanuts, pizza, Swedish fish. 5 of clubs, 10 of hearts. Trail mix, popcorn. See the bet and raise it 20. Chili lime pistachios. Pair of queens! A flush! Lemon water & wine.

Fun. That's all this was. Not in a simplistic way - in a simple, true, honest, belly laugh way. Some of us needed a night of distraction, some a night of relaxation, others simply needed to remember what it is to play. It is good and wise to surround yourself with others who allow you to play - to enjoy, to partake ... fully and without reservation. With mouths full of candy & nuts, we laughed and relished the evening, long into the morning. This is the way it is supposed to be. This is what we hope for. This is what we should be striving towards. It's not prestigious, it doesn't have a title, or letters after your name. It's friendship. And love. And joy. It is life sustaining.

I find myself wanting to roll around, and wallow in these evenings - in this time. Glasses with puddles of wine. Pistachio shells littering the table. Empty plates and full stomachs. Full hearts. Cheeks sore with laughter.

And you thought it was just game night.

She took it all with style & a smirk - swindled us out of every last chip.

Organized Yet Unprepared

2009-01-13T07:14:00.000-07:00

Entirely unready for another round, I brace myself for what may be the most ridiculous semester of-my-life. Panic sets in with the realization that I maybe have not made the most of every last moment of freedom. I fear I may have a breakdown before it begins. That questioning inner voice has started again, and I wonder if I have it in me to do this once more. Yet again I will sit down in ignorance, and leave with some semblance of knowledge. Roughly 3,000 hours of absorbing, digesting and regurgitating.

Breathe. Sit. Begin.

Saturday evening, the 10th of January, 2009.

2009-01-12T14:27:00.008-07:00

Mayan Theater Denver, Colorado

One by one they show up. Free themselves of coats and scarves. Greetings and laughter fill the apartment. On the docket for the evening: Jerusalem Cafe & Mayan Theater. We catch up over wine and snacks, our stomachs anticipating the dinner ahead. Between sips of wine, we hear about lovers, or future lovers, or those who may never become. We talk about friends and life until finally, we are ready to head out. I had been craving this meal like a lunatic pregnant woman in her third trimester. (It's a simile, don't get your hopes up.) After a short wait in a crowded space, we fumble our way to our table. The food was divine - as it always is, without fail. Gyros, fries, onion rings, chicken & beef shawarmah, baklava... aaahh. Having eaten more than any of us should have, we waddle our way out. A short jaunt later we arrive at the Mayan Theater in the Baker District - a theater built in the 1930s, designed in the Art Deco Mayan Revival style. We found our seats and experienced a stunning performance by Sean Penn. A little shaken, and a little hopeful we collected ourselves back at home. Coats discarded, bags tossed to the wayside, shoes kicked off - we seatled down and simply let the evening wash over us.

Satisfied from the top to the tips. We were built for city life.

Mouths full of goodness - Jerusalem Cafe

Life.

2009-01-06T09:34:00.000-07:00

Early Morning Walk In The City - Lily, Josh

A month ago our friends Lily & Josh came out to visit us. An overabundance of words could describe our time together, and our friendship. But most appropriately: laughter. I am more than thankful that these two are in our lives. They're comfortable, home - and Sean and I will always welcome the beauty that they bring.

I've been quiet for the last month for a myriad of reasons. Much has happened, and it takes time to soak it in, let it fill me up, and settle in me. Another semester has ended in the classic tangle of books, papers, coffee breath, red eyes and exhaustion. It is a freeing feeling, the end of a semester, but I find a tense swirling sensation growing in my stomach as I dread the onslaught of another attack, I mean semester. "Like an unstoppable rebel force."

As a celebration of sorts for the end of a semester, I spent a wild and crazy evening with friends. We literally romped about the South Broadway shops, concluding with a jaw-dropping few hours at Beatrice and Woodsley. Although I somehow ended up with big head, this photo, courtesy of my beautifully talented sister-in-law Amanda (aka Ruby), really captured the evening in all of its glory. Like crazy fools we enjoyed each other, great food and even more incredible drinks. It had been too long since I had had an evening of this caliber. It was no doubt, and evening to remember. One is hard-pressed to find a group of people more ready to enjoy life and laughter in their fullest.

Sean, Deanna, Giovanni, Ruby, Jules

Our holiday was spent with my family. A whirlwind of curly blond hair, new baby and video games. I love my nieces, and after a well deserved nap for us both, Gwen and I spent some quality time watching The Wizard of Oz (Victor Fleming, 1939). It was her first viewing, and her expression seems appropriate for the film. Lyla Starr, the newest member of the family took her first holiday in stride, and I'm sure often wondered why a small black box was being shoved in her face.

Gwenevere Scout

Lyla Starr

Since being home, Sean and I have spent time trying to recover from the past month. Yesterday, after sleeping in, we fully committed to a day of rest by watching movies in bed until four o'clock, complete with meals in bed and naps at will.

As lovely and well deserved as it has been to rest and hide from the world, I have begun to get the itch to create, to do... to leave the apartment. In an attempt to re-socialize myself, I ventured out to the Nuggets vs. Pacers game. Although picture-less, last night was the perfect "welcome back to life" evening. I now feel somewhat ready to begin again. However, a relapse of movies in bed may not be entirely uncalled for before all is said and done.

Girl. I had to confess.

2008-12-03T20:07:00.003-07:00

I don't really have anything to say for myself. I hope you enjoy.

The Neighborhood

2008-11-25T12:40:00.003-07:00

The current interaction taking place across the street, inside an apartment.

Dog:

yap yap, yap yap yap, yap yap yap

Man:

shut up.

Dog:

yap, yap yap yap yap, yap yap

Man:

Shut Up!

Dog:

yap yap yap, yap yap, yap

Man:

SHUT UP!

Dog:

yap, yap yap yap, yap yap

Man:

SHUT THE HELL UP!

It seems they don't have the most ideal working relationship. I particularly enjoy that the man added 'hell' as if that was the key to changing the dog's behavior.

The Hair Cut

2008-11-19T19:26:00.004-07:00

For all the Kenna lovers. For all those of you who don't get to see her as often as you once did. Eat your heart out. Twice a year (now) Kenna gets her all her hairs cut. Because she has a lot of them. Because I don't want vacuuming to be a permanent life hobby. Because she looks so cute, like a puppy.

She loves getting her photo taken, can't you tell... look how much she loves me - it's like she can't wait for this crap to be over. Total panic had set in by that point. She is terrified of the camera. Hates it. Runs to different rooms or parts of the house when the camera is taken out. Loathes the camera. HA! I love this photo, she's so unhappy about the situation.

Soda Crackers & Ginger Ale

2008-11-10T18:45:00.006-07:00

It usually hits me - about this time, and I have the sinking feeling, that I may, possibly, never make it out of the semester alive. The panic of the enormous load of work ahead, coupled with the very short amount of time allotted to complete it, creates a sick feeling in my stomach. And that in turn creates procrastination, which in turn, creates the sick feeling in my stomach.

My face fears that it may be permanently bathed in blue tinted light, because, until the second week of December, I will most likely spend every waking moment staring at this computer screen, hoping that some brilliant idea morphs itself into a coherent paper. And there will, no doubt, be more waking hours than sleeping hours before the storm that is finals passes over - the ominous dark cloud that it is. Maybe I should put some lambs blood on my door... Don't laugh.

AND THEN. As if to play some cruel, cruel joke, they (the powers that be) require that you (the minion), during this overly horrible stressful time, pick out your classes for the following semester. Because, seeing that this is possibly the point in your semester that you would NOT like to think about ever coming back to this institution ever again - they (the powers) have decided that it is the opportune moment to suck you in for another round. Why? Because-you-have-no-choice. They, have the carrot. You, fool that you are, are carrot-less. Damn carrot. And then you (minion), think about taking 18 credit hours. Which causes the panic to flow more fluidly. And then, you (the minion, least you forget), thinks about the fact that you will be taking summer classes. It's never-going-to-end.

Better be one hell of a carrot is all I have to say. One HELL of a carrot.

"That rug really tied the room together."

2008-11-06T11:14:00.000-07:00

So much sarcasm, you say. Well. I've got nothing for you. Some days are up days and some days are not. This is of the not. School has been far better this year than ever before. But there are still days that I feel like I'm on the hamster wheel of life. Me. Hamster wheel. Life. I still question why I'm doing this. I still question the point. I question my questioning. I question my direction, or lack of direction. I question if this is simply to fulfill the requirements of American bourgeois society - to fit in. And it is. And it's not. Gray. That's my life, unclear. Still. At some point I think I believed that my life would eventually, out of a pure freak accident, line itself up, and tow some sort of line. Thus far, I've encountered lots of freak accidents (most of which caused by yours truly) and am still awaiting the towing of any line, even a broken line - dotted, Hey, I'm not picky.

It has been a depressing week of films, which may account for my less than jovial attitude. Requiem For A Dream, The Swimmer, and Raising Arizona. All of which were preceded by 4 months, 3 weeks, 2 days, and Ghost World. Also, I am in an intensive course dealing with African American Literature - and sometimes it just all piles up on me. Not the course work, although it's hefty, but the complete and total shit that goes on, and has gone on, and will continue to go on. I don't feel hopeless or even helpless, just it-is-so-much sometimes.

Tuesday was beautiful. Indifferent to who you voted for, you can't deny the beauty of the evening. I sat with a friend and watched as the votes rolled in. Afterwards, people on the street were honking their horns, and whooping, and hollerin' and setting off firecrackers. I've never experienced so many people, so many Americans, excited and moved by politics. It was awe-inspiring. I also got to hear the voice of our friend who is over in Kenya - who I was missing, and wishing she could be here with us. Watching and listening to Americans celebrate their President-Elect was redeeming, as was watching people all-over-the-freakin'-world celebrate with us.

It is nice, at least for a moment, to not feel hate bearing down on us from all sides of the globe.

pictured: Our bedcover, not a rug.

Miss Scarlet, In the Dining Room, With The Knife.

2008-11-01T01:11:00.011-06:00

Fall In The City

2008-10-31T12:49:00.003-06:00

I love this photograph.

Today is full of projects: hanging lights, carving pumpkins, roasting seeds, making cupcakes & brownies, popcorn needs to be popped (in a pot), not in a futuristic steel box that shoots waves at it, spiderwebs need to be hung, candy put into bowls, champagne glasses cleaned, wine mulled, cards & clues printed, music cued, candles lit and costumes gathered.

Halloween is my favorite holiday and tonight six friends are gathering - or should I say six strangers: Mr. Green (Ross), Miss Scarlet (Amanda), Colonel Mustard (Giovanni), Mrs. White (Deanna), Professor Plum (Sean) and Mrs. Peacock (Jules). Should be a murderous evening.

While I prepare for the festivities, Ghost Busters will be on the tele, like it is every Halloween in my house. I have watched this film every Halloween for twenty-four straight years, yes that's right, crunch those numbers, my parents took their nine month old to see Ghost Busters in the theaters in 1984. I'm told I enjoyed the film, and was pleasant the whole way through. Scandalous parents...well played.

Like A Popsicle In Summer

2008-10-30T23:21:00.004-06:00

When Sean and I decide to make a meal together, to cook together - It's good.

Myself, and a giant empty soup pot: twelve different kinds of beans (dried), garlic, yellow onion, sweet red pepper, hot pepper (unknown type, came from a friend's garden), celery, carrots, tomatoes, ham, salami, homemade chicken stock, salt, pepper. I simply used whatever we had in our fridge, whatever was on hand. Yes, fresh homemade chicken stock was "whatever we had in our fridge".

Sean, apart from making the chicken stock the day before, crafted some hand made bread. I would say "homemade" but that might imply that we own a bread maker, which we don't. Our home has, what do they call those... right, a baker.

We hadn't cooked together in a while. It was redemptive. Our house - the smell alone was enough.

There are always friends we think of when we cook. Good friends. Close friends. Friends who love food, who love to eat, who love to laugh, who desire to live life with dirty hands, and drippy beards. My friends, you were missed, but thought of fondly - as always.

It's Not That I Forgot About You

2008-10-30T22:34:00.005-06:00

Here is a photograph from our walk last weekend. October has been hard. There is something ticking away inside my head, itching to get itself out, but it's waiting for something. Maybe it's waiting for tomorrow. We shall see.

However, if your curious what I've been doing with all my time, you can consult the list of films on the right. That, and writing a paper every day for the past, what.. twenty-three days straight? I've lost count. I'm starting to feel as if my writing skills are being whored out to the masses. I realize that's some unapologetically horrible thing to say - but it is sucking the soul out of me to write this much. That, combined with October apparently being fart-brain month, has created a real hum-dinger of a hoedown.

Seasons

2008-10-18T01:53:00.004-06:00

I realize it's been a quiet month. It's been quiet in my head as well. There is always hope for tomorrow. Perhaps when tomorrow comes it will bring with it thoughtful insights and creative wording. Or maybe not. Perhaps tomorrow holds more silence also. So I wait. That's how it is sometimes - quiet.

For Geoff

2008-10-08T20:49:00.003-06:00

I would like to mention the fact that this video has 2,192,771 fewer views than a video of my niece. Now who's hot, who's not?

Not Exactly Clutter

2008-10-07T07:17:00.003-06:00

The space under the antique couch has become the new resting place for the overflow of books in our home. Perhaps a bit ridiculous, sure - but we both enjoy the fact that you could now actually stick out your little hand and grab a book - from practically anywhere you plant yourself in our home. You'll find them stacked in bookshelves, and on bookshelves, in baskets, and on chairs, piled upon bedside tables, stuffed into kitchen cabinets and under furniture. Little pieces of stories that wander through our minds, and curl themselves up, under our couch.

October

2008-10-06T22:48:00.010-06:00

... apple pie, scarves, chai, movies, slippers, pumpkins, leaves, coats, candy, walks, costumes, ghost stories, fires, autumn, butternut squash, cinnamon and nutmeg, blankets, colors, candied apples, wind, popcorn, candles, pumpkin beer, pink noses and boots. I love October.

Home.

2008-10-02T14:49:00.006-06:00

The cookie jar sits between the jars that hold the popping corn, and the breakfast cereal. Three jars away from the flour, and two down from the coffee. It's not the easiest jar to get to on the counter, being too far back, and obstructed by the dish rack, but somehow, everyone manages. The sound of the glass jar getting dragged against the tile counter, the click of the latch and you know, no matter where you are in the apartment, that some one's hand is digging for a cookie. The cookie jar - always kept full. Full cookie jars, that's how life should be. Full, not for a lack of eating, of taking in, of enjoying, but full because it's constantly being refilled. Maybe not always with the same kind of cookie - but how can you fault the chocolate chip? It's simple, and classic, but that's ok. I like predictability and I like cookie jars. That's not so bad is it? Just wanting to take in the sweetness, the joy, the familiar. The cookie jars are for children, for those who used to be children, for those who have children, and great grandchildren. It tells us stories of home, and of love, and of comfort, and of the familiar laughs with friends. The cookie - not pretentious, or pompous, it doesn't seek much attention. It is confidant and knows where it is needed. In beds with big comforters, and couches packed with blankets, and buffeted by pillows. The high heals, and the bow ties, those are for other desserts. It doesn't fault others for being fancy - it lets them take on the frills and the excitement. Sippers, lunch boxes, card games, camping, and movie watching; that's where the cookie is at home. You can dress it up, you can try and show it off - it won't stop you, but simply look at you and ask: "Why make me something I don't need to be?"

My Niece is Cute.

2008-09-29T14:13:00.001-06:00

Meet Lia Charlotte Oldroyd, aka Lala. She's almost a whole year old. She has actual skills now, so I think she's cool. And she makes faces - also cool. Way to go kid.

Animals me no likey.

2008-09-28T12:12:00.004-06:00

At about 6:00a I realized that the sleeping part of my morning was over. Cat spaz = dog spaz = me awake. So, in an attempt to be absurdly productive I made a couple of onesies for the new kid on the block. I still have some stitching to do on them - somehow in the six hours that I've been awake I haven't been able to get this done. I hope that she enjoys them, the whole five seconds she spends in them before she pukes on them. I unabashedly believe that she is going to be my favorite kid, and I've not even met her.

City life.

2008-09-28T08:02:00.000-06:00

I bike now. I know it was some sort of mortal sin that I didn't bike while living in Boulder - but I didn't. Now I do. I've also found a renewed love for my chacos. However, that has very little to do with living in the city, and a lot to do with the fact that all of my flip flops are darn old. They've pasted the old and wonderful stage, and headed right into the old, and old stage. Chacos, meet bike. Bike, meet chacos. Now that they're aquainted I'm sure they'll be lifers.

Thanks Grandma Jean!

2008-09-27T07:31:00.000-06:00

Because You Can't Get Enough of this Crap.

2008-09-27T01:36:00.004-06:00

Meet Sean.

Sean created a photo form of himself as well from the oh so-secret-it's-killing-you-why-won't-I-tell-you-where-I-found-this place.

And here's how you play the game:

(although I played with a bit of calvin ball rules for my own personal reasons.)

Answer the following 12 questions about yourself:

1. What is your first name?

2. What is your favorite food?

3. What high school did you attend?

4. What is your favorite color?

5. Who is your celebrity crush?

6. Favorite drink?

7. Dream vacation?

8. Favorite dessert?

9. What do you want to be when you grow up?

10. What do you love most in life?

11. One word to describe you?

12. Your Flikr account name?

- Place each of your answers into Flikr's search.

- Using only the images that appear on the first page only, choose your favorite and copy and paste each of the URL's into the Mosaic Maker (3 columns, 4 rows)

Did I do this because those questions are awesome, and I just couldn't resist answering them? No they're horribly lame. However, the outcome is something I think is actually far more incredible than those horrible questions. I hope you enjoy yourself, and struggle through the decision making process.

Me. In Photo Form.

2008-09-26T11:05:00.003-06:00

Thanks Ruby for this charming idea. Typically I cringe and run the other direction from these personality question things. But this one got me - couldn't resist. I have resisted, however, in including the questions that led me to pick these photos. I like it better this way, but by all means you can guess if you would like. I may not reveal the answer, but feel free to take a stab at my inner self persona.

It's Time.

2008-09-23T11:33:00.009-06:00

Probably it's more correctly time for me to write something of significance - but my creativity and original thought have been sufficiently drained out. Sucked dry. Zombie brain is welcoming the arrival of the fall television schedule. Yes that's what it's time for. No, I don't feel that I'm wasting my life away in front of the television. No more than I am wasting it away sitting at my computer for 10 hours a day, everyday, writing papers. I'm a film major for gosh sakes, give me a break. I'm sure in some way it's my d-u-t-y to watch these shows. Don't you want to support my higher education goals? I mean, this is the big social to do right? This is what we're all hoping I achieve. You can't go questioning it now, just because it involves copious amounts of time in front of my television.

So what am I going to watch? I'm not going to tell you if you're going to judge me. You wouldn't judge someone who went to the theater, as in musicals and plays - not cinema, all the time. It's basically the same - be honest. You would find that person cultured, and sophisticated... Fffiiiiinnnee-uh. I'll tell. It's all the usual suspects. Heroes, Pushing Daisies, My Name Is Earl, 30 Rock, The Office, Scrubs, Amazing Race... And last, but most definitely not least, Desperate Housewives, but you already know of my affinity for the beautiful satire of life.

So I like television - maybe you like staring into the abyss and thinking deep, cultured, sophisticated, albeit slightly b.s. "what does it all mean," thoughts with your furrowed brow. We've all got our thing. I'm not going to take that away from you. You can live it up with your furrowed brow and your questioning ways. I'll be lowering my blood pressure, and stress levels, and you may be raising yours - but who am I to tell you that one is better than the other? Furrow on I say. But just remember that it might have been your fault that the Arrested Developments of our time were ended long before they should have been. You could furrow over that.

Pictured: the clock radio in our kitchen, that sits next to our espresso maker. Use: to bring Rockies, Broncos, and CU games to whoever is cooking - or perhaps even a little "Wait, Wait...Don't Tell Me!" - that Mo Rocca - so smart and funny, even when he's on iron chef. I mean how many people can pull off VH1, NPR and food network? Only Mo.

Lord. I need to add an amendment. Please add Mad Men, and Boston Legal to the aboved mentioned list of shows. How I could have forgotten two of my dearest, I don't know.

He Knows Me Well

2008-09-18T12:12:00.000-06:00

Four Years.

2008-09-18T06:01:00.008-06:00

Your slippers are my slippers,

your robe, my robe

your coffee, my coffee.

Your laughter, my laughter

your dinner, my dinner

your blankets, my blankets.

Shared post-its,

shared dog,

your cat, my cat.

Shared spaces,

shared songs,

your book, my book.

Your worries are my worries,

your heartache, my heartache

your smiles, my smiles.

Your love, my love,

your life, my life.

Downtown

2008-09-17T16:27:00.005-06:00

My view as I waited for the bus, after waiting for the bus, and that bus getting hit by a loon.

Genius

2008-09-13T17:36:00.004-06:00

How does it know?

Ok. So it isn't always genius, but it has been fairly incredible in my life thus far. It will never fully replace the hand-picked mixed tape effect of decades past, insofar that it lacks the love, but it does do the job swiftly... Which is real helpful when you need to write a paper, or clean the house, or any other similar task and would like a little music to help you in your endeavor, but realize that spending and hour or two putting together a playlist would really undermine what you're trying to accomplish.

Thanks fruity computer system. You're awesome.

If I could phrase ideas this well, that would be awesome.

2008-09-13T16:09:00.004-06:00

"But M*A*S*H says nothing about war per se except to show that the best way to conduct yourself in any situation, even the direst, and maybe especially the direst, is to know your job without taking yourself or the rules of conduct too seriously."

So Unexpected.

2008-09-12T13:46:00.002-06:00

Which is exactly what I have come to expect from the Coen Brothers.

Creativity and Origionality X 6 = Coffee

2008-09-11T10:59:00.005-06:00

I am writing a paper. After that I will write another paper. Then another. Then another. Then another. Then another. Not in an I-feel-like-all-I-do-is-write-papers, never ending, looping sort of way. It's really more of an I-have-six-papers-due-next-week sort of way. And when I say 'sort of way' I mean, it is that way. Clearly one or more of these papers is going to get a serious shaft on creativity. I'm only one person. Common.

With hesitation I say, for anyone who is a fan of Film Noir (or interested in a view of youth culture), you may be interested in seeing the movie Brick (Rian Johnson, 2005). It gets violent, and then it gets more violent. BUT in no way do I think that the violence should warrant an avoidance of the film. I was leery at first, but I after some processing, I feel that this film was brilliant - if nothing else you should sit in awe of the dialogue.

It's the Great Paper, Charlie Brown

2008-09-10T23:12:00.001-06:00

It's just a little past eleven o'clock in the evening. Therefore, it must be time for me to start writing a paper. Obviously.

A paper on what?

On poetry.

Poetry? I thought you were an ignorant fool, incapable of understanding poetry?

That's fair.

But you're going to write a successful paper about it?

That's the idea.

Humm.

Yup.

What do they call that?

Learning.

And what do they call this?

Avoidance.

Dear Roethke, Whitman & Frost

2008-09-09T11:31:00.006-06:00

I just got my ass handed to me in a poetry class. Frost, I am sorry I ever thought you trite. I apologize for all those who made you seem so. Your brilliance and your depth astound me. I'm glad your poems did not mean what I had been led to believe. It was so surface - so patriotic, so quick and transparent. But that is not the case with you. It's the opposite I find. The irony and the puns have made me question, made me look, made me laugh. So shrewed and sharp-witted; you have added to my life.

I now take pleasure in your poems,

And that has made all the difference.

(Irony wholly intended.)

Sunday Afternoons & Walks in the City

2008-09-08T21:33:00.006-06:00

While I sat on a bench in the park this past Sunday afternoon, and whittled away my life reading a Norton Anthology, my family relaxed. I think it was especially good for certain members of the family. Mainly those members who were not reading anything with Norton on the cover of it. Or for those who don't read at all. I think it was especially sublime for those who don't read at all.

I woke up this morning to the sound of cars wooshing through rainy streets, and thought, "awww yea!" Morning tea, cinnamon sugar toast, hot shower, scarf, jacket - it was a good morning. While walking to the bus stop I passed this tree and my heart skipped a little - it's fall. Not only did it feel like fall, with the brisk 40-something degrees we were sporting outside, but the trees (I mean tree... in the singular - obviously, hence the photo) had gotten the memo. The only fleeting blemish on this morning? No chai. Hopefully the snow can hold off long enough for me to get my festive autumnal self in shape. Seriously now, it would have been movie-esque if only I had had that damn chai.

This evening as Kenna and I took a walk around the neighborhood, and as my nose and cheeks turned just a little bit pink, I could smell wood burning in fireplaces and it made me smile and inhale deeply (those festive carcinogens!). It's supposed to be 80 degrees or something similarly horrid this weekend, but for now I'll live in a world where summer has ended because it is no longer August. September has come and it's time for fall, give it up summer - nobody likes you anymore, move on.

And So It Begins

2008-09-06T22:43:00.004-06:00

Don't worry if the major that you picked didn't lavish lots of promotional stuff on you and hand you tickets to early screenings of films. We all make mistakes.

Probably I shouldn't, but I'm just saying...

2008-09-05T16:35:00.001-06:00

Stay Cool My Bebes

2008-08-30T10:49:00.003-06:00

I only just got the internet back into my life a few days ago.

Currently trying to make our new apartment feel like home. Are you thinking, "Hey I'm in your family, and I don't see my wedding photo on that wall!!! Whaaaaaa!!!" Well that's because you didn't send it to me. I must have photo, to display photo. That's how the game works.

Yesterday I walked down to the coffee shop on the corner and was informed of two things by the guy making my americano. One, that the iPhone is gangsta. And two, that he "DNC-ed himself out!!"

More about our new life in Denver to come.

Impressive

2008-07-18T07:29:00.000-06:00

James Harding, editor of The Times Of London, made quite an impression on me in what was probably about a 5 minute or so interview. But what else would you expect?

Magical English Cleaning Techniques Leave American Girl Bemused

2008-07-17T06:01:00.000-06:00

I fear that my brilliant packing technique, may leave a bit to be desired. Clearly I am feeling a bit down a rabbit hole, hence my boxes have now started commanding passersby.

And if it is the case, that you find yourself thinking that any such thing as a flap-lock feature will make your packing any easier, I am hear to tell you, it will not. Despite whatever hoopla they may have printed on a box. Unless flap-lock includes a self-packing feature, which I assure you it does not, it is of no help in anyone's packing endeavours.

If only I had a wand ... or an ingenious finger snapping nanny ...

Yeah. And there's that.

2008-07-16T19:28:00.011-06:00

A few things impressed me today.

The Daily Show's coverage of the cover of this weeks The New Yorker - stellar. "We hit the pavement and soon found out that there's impenetrable satire that people might not get, almost everywhere."

And then I saw this. And honestly, it gave me chills. You can say I = Nerdy if you wish. I cannot wait.

Number fourteen.

2008-07-14T16:40:00.010-06:00

It's done. After many a muggy, hot 'n zesty afternoon of looking at apartments we have finally found one. Yesterday we spent a few hours, a few horrible hours, "hoof-n-it" around downtown neighborhoods searching for THE place. The place with the light from heaven shining down on it, and choir of angels singing every time we looked in it's direction, making it abundantly clear that THIS is where we should live. However, all I seemed to discover was a lot of beautiful, quiet, mansion neighborhoods - which would be awesome if we were in that mansion-owning state of life... we are, not exactly there yet. A neighborhood that had a man with a pirate eye, and puddles in the sidewalk where birds were bathing. And a neighborhood with children terrorizing the sidewalks with small bicycles. However, no heaven-light, not even a burnt out heaven-light bulb. Nothing. I left our search, hot, blistery, grumpy, hungry, sweaty, demoralized, disheartened, annoyed, and hot. Also, I was hot.

Today I received a call from a company where we had put in a rental application. We were finally approved after a little bit of hoopla and they said that they had two apartments for us to look at. After yesterday I was still a bit deflated, and sure that these apartments wouldn't be what we wanted. They were sure to be far inferior apartments. Shoddy. No heaven-light.

Apartment 1. We walked up three flights of stairs through very narrow hallways, and a series of doors. The tenant across the way has some sort of wild car alarm dog that exploded when we reached the end of the hallway. We looked at each other, thinking, "Oh. That's awesome". Apartment 1 was small, but fine. Very small, almost not fine kitchen. Windows that looked out on a parking lot, and to the building next door - not exactly picturesque.

Apartment 2. Not exactly magazine picture worthy neighborhood (read, slightly sketchy). But it was bigger than most we had looked at. The kitchen was great, big enough for an eat in table. Hardwood floors. Windows facing the street. First floor, only up maybe three or four stairs. These are the things you think of when having to lug your life up and down stairs. Or when remembering, once you got to the car that you don't have your celly. And going back up. And coming back down. Arriving at the car to realize that you left your sunglasses on the table when you picked up the phone. The actual number of stairs becomes important. You're annoyed enough at that point. Really it comes down to a matter of how annoyed, and often this can be measured by number of stairs. Example. I am 4 steps annoyed. Versus, I am 3 flights of stairs, small, hot hallways, and too many doors annoyed. You see? Oh, also, it was the apartment that I had originally wanted. Apparently something had fallen through with the other tenants, or who knows what. Maybe that person was struck down by heaven-light. In either case, they weren't going to rent it. So. We are. We have a new home. Number 14.

We are within walking distance to our favorite restaurant in Denver, as well as a whole slew of restaurants, pubs, diners and coffee houses. Near a park, near our new best friend, and not far from school. Close to museums and ... not far from the ball park.

I didn't see any heaven-light. But I'm sure it was there. I forgot to look up.

I didn't even know

2008-07-10T07:42:00.000-06:00

That my soul was looking for this book. But it was. Yours might also be. Probably is, you just don't know it yet.

Ay, Dios mio!

2008-07-09T23:11:00.005-06:00

Moving.

I got out the camera to maybe take a few snapshots of the horribleness that is moving. But my experience was as follows:

Where's the camera?!? Oh. There. Man, this new case that Sean found is really great. Open case, take out camera, try and turn it on. Won't turn on. Continue to press the on button like a spaz. Thinking. WHAT!?! Who broke this? What the hell? We just bought this thing! Waahhhh? It was just working. What did Sean do to this thing when he put it in this god awful case. I hate this case. How did it break my camera?!? This case is horrible. Who would ever think of using it for a camera??? Oh. Yeah... I had to charge the battery the other day. Go get the battery from the wall, try and remember how to put it into the camera. Turning the camera over and over and over and not seeing ANYWHERE where a battery of this size could possibly fit. WHAT? Where does this battery go?!? I know I've done this before. It can't be that hard. I'VE-ALREADY-DONE-THIS-BEFORE. What? It's impossible. That's it. No more photos. I can't figure this damn thing out. Oh. There. That's where it goes. Now I just have to slide that thingy open....slide it open....o-p-e-n. WHY WON'T THIS THINGY OPEN!?! UUUhhhhhh. Oh. There. That wasn't that hard. Ok. Now, take the battery out of the charger....how does that go again? Push? No. Pull? No. LIFT! Yeah, I'm all over this. I totally got this under control. Ok. Put battery in. Which way? This way? No. Shove? No that seems like something you're never supposed to do. OHHH, line it up those metal parts. YES! Camera ready to go. Pictures abound! I take a few photos... Uhhh. These photos are terrible. Yuck. I'm not taking photos.

One of the greatest things about moving. Because there are about 2 things that are awesome about moving. The whole rest of the experience is akin to... nothing. Nothing else reaches the crapload that is moving. So one of the greatest things about moving is that you discover all sorts of odd things. Even if you just moved last year. It's like these things just surface only for moves. Old wallets. Weird toys from your childhood. The other great thing about moving is grander, but we'll get to that later. It's much more philosophical, and a who am I in the universe type of thing. But first, there are a lot of things about moving that suck ass. There is no other way for this to be put. If you are over oohhh say 30-something this does not apply to you. If you don't have to move every couple years or so, you do-not-count. There is something about sorting through every piece of weird crap you own.. organize it, box it, label it, move it, lug it up and down stairs (multiple times) and then un box it, un/re- (but in a different way) organize it. And the fact that you get to look into the future and know that you'll get to dance this dance again in a few months only adds to the grandeur.

And always everyone is a big fan of "Just get rid of it all!" That's always the advice. Always. "Then you won't have to do all that!" Thanks ass face. That's not really a great option. Why? Well what am I going to get rid of? Our wedding dishes? Our computer? Our clothes? Our food? My art stuff? Our books, which are next to holiness? Pots and pans? Kitchen-aid mixer? Silverware? Our dog? What exactly is it that you think that we can just toss out? Because trust me, we would be all over that. But what is it exactly that you think we should just throw away, or give away? The furniture we're not very attached to, and so we don't care too much about that, but the furniture is the easy stuff to move at this point. It's all these damn boxes that are so horrible. Also, when moving you get to live in boxworld. No one likes box world. The only time box world is strangely appealing is when you finally get everything moved into your new place and you sit on the floor that first night eating pizza by candle light. Other than that, it's mostly just a whole lot of rummaging through, and living in/out of, and sorting boxes until you're hot and sweating, to finally find the holy of hollies box to then realize ,"Oh damnit, this is not the box I was looking for." Even though it was labeled "bathroom toiletries" the shampoo somehow is not in there.

Ok. The second thing that is great about moving is that it's exciting. You get to live somewhere new. Somewhere you've never lived before. New neighborhood. New coffee shops. New weirdos. New oddities. New friends. New smells. New sights from the window. New things to be annoyed at. New cracks in the sidewalk to remember. New stairs. New door handles. New. Different. Change. Hope. Not like before. New. This part about moving I like. This part makes all the terrible parts bearable.

I lied. There are three things about moving that are awesome. This four foot box of shredded paper (read packing material) that is sitting in our living room/dining room/library is pretty incredible. If I were about 20 years younger this would be irresistible. It reminds me of when my friend's father had some giant things (to be left unnamed) delivered to their house and what was left over were g-i-a-n-t wooden crates filled with random odd sized foam pieces. Large enough crates that multiple people could play inside them. Sometimes instead of packing more boxes I just run my hands through the mass of shredded paper. Pick at it. Tear it into smaller pieces. Squish it. Later when it's strewn about our new apartment from the unpacking of the horrible boxes I shall hate this shredded paper. But for now, it and I are on the same team.

The Wild Rumpus.

2008-06-24T11:57:00.019-06:00

My brother, his wife and their daughter came to visit us. It was an incredible, adventure packed weekend. I opted to just throw a giant stack of photos at you. There are lots of other things to tell about my month of June, which has been in internet silence I realize. More to come soon. Until then, here's the weekend with Gwenevere Scout. Enjoy.

Discovered that living on a farm is incredible.

That nap time is very important, for everyone.

We ventured out to the street fair for some bouncy house, slide, magic show, balloon hat madness.

While in the car she would inform us, "We going downtown!" And we did. She found this giant snail, and probably we could have just stayed there the whole time and she would have been happy.

We ate lunch at "the riber" aka Boulder Creek

Played at the playground at Chautauqua

"Monster Face!" Family photo at Chautauqua

"What do you think the horseys are doing?" She asked Sean and I over and over while we ate breakast.

One last romp on the farm!

Flower picking

And dandelion blowing

And running

She is a crazy animal lover and she loved the "kitty-cat"

It's a pretty hard life to live on a farm and play with all those animals - really takes it out of you.

Flopsy, Mopsy & Cottontail

2008-06-01T07:06:00.000-06:00

I'm no Mr. McGregor, but I do own a cat with a tail that swishes slowly back and forth. This particular little bugger is after my beautiful leafy greens. I hope for his own sake that he does not meet Famous Amos or he may end up in next weeks rubbage bin.

Thea Cole-Stutz-Oldroyd

2008-05-31T13:18:00.005-06:00

When someone dies you cook. It's what you do. When a cat dies, especially one with a thrice hyphenated last name, you make cake.

What are you going to do with your Saturday?

2008-05-31T11:36:00.004-06:00

I have been asked this question multiple times this past week. Each time I found it difficult to answer, because it's sort of a loaded question. If I respond with the truth, "Same thing I do every other day because I'm on summer vacation and have no responsibilities in life and can do whatever I please," this could be met with, a bit of, ooooh... hostility. However, if I answer with the fair and truthful, but unattractive, "Oh. Run some errands, clean up the house. Maybe take the dog on a run, or do a little gardening - maybe some book reading," I can quickly see the look in their eyes change from the excited "this-girl-has-endless-possibilities-of-fun-having-to-be-had-on-this-Saturday", to the feared, "oh-my-dear-sweet-Lord-your-life-is-really-much-more-dull-than-I-had-anticipated".

What am I supposed to do lie? I mean if I had "endless-possibilities-of-fun-having-to-be-had" don't you think that I might have already shared them with you? So if at this point I've not mentioned anything earth shatteringly incredible that I will be spending my Saturday doing, you can most likely assume that I will be doing what most people do on their Saturdays - a little bit of "weekend work" and a little bit of "lounge about the house".

So obviously now, all you can think is, "Sooo... what are you going to do with your Saturday?" because you are, unequivocally, unable to stop yourself from asking this question - much like weather talk. Deep down, or maybe not so deep down, people do not like this question. "What are you going to do with your Saturday?" and all you can think is, "Aaah... not talk with you apparently". But, being the gracious, and patient, and kind person that I am, I shall indulge your terrible social awkwardness and invite you into the wild and wonderful world that is Saturday Errand Running.

I woke up particularly early to pick up some friends and deposit (yes, deposit) them at the park-n-ride so that they could get themselves to the airport. Picked up a little coffee on my way home and had a visit with my husband before he went to bed (works overnight in the ED - gets home when other people get up). Then it was off to tackle the motherload, Target & Costco on a Saturday. Luckily, I was solo in my Saturday errand running and therefore had high hopes of being able to weave stealthily between large slow moving obstacles, be they lost children, or desperate mother's stocking up their pantries for Y2K. In Target I purchased a trendy little canvas bag so as to not kill polar bears, and ending up in a looping-gouge-your-eyes-out conversation with the lady at the check stand because she really wanted me to buy a different one that would fold up and fit in my purse. No amount of, "well I like this one, and it can also be folded into a much smaller size" type of argument was to be heard, nor was she to be diverted by any topic changing efforts on my part. Eventually I found myself just staring at her, not nodding, or agreeing, or making any kind of movement - just the blank stare, holding out my hand and wishing upon the golden calf of "crap you don't need to buy anyway" idol, that this woman would at some point hand me my receipt. In a clear moment of weakness on her part, she parted with the thin piece of paper, and I was out the door. Next stop Costco where I was harassed by multiple sample givers. At one point I actually found myself being yelled at because I would not take the dried blueberries, "BUT THEIR GOOD FOR YOOOOUUU!" he yelled as I bobbed and weaved my way through the monster mother carts. All in all I came out of Costco unscathed, mostly because they did not have the item I was needing to purchase and so I left quickly, with only a slight detour to buy a soda (You know, s-o-d-a, that evil thing that is killing all of America? I stopped for one. Because clearly I have a death wish.) Death drink in hand, I drove to the grocery store - picked up necessary item that Costco had been lacking in, and then made a quick (or what I had anticipated to be quick) stop at the bank to deposit some checks. As the teller is typing in who knows what she looks up at me and says, "Well - I can't deposit this one." pointing to one of the checks, "because they didn't finish putting in the date," I look, and what I see is this: 5/28/0_ and then an indiscernible next number that could have been interpreted as either another zero if we were still in the year 2000 OR as an 8 as any sane person would have assumed considering that it is unlikely that I've kept this $60.00 check for eight damn years. I look at the check, look at her and say, "Looks like an eight to me." She replies, "Well I can put it through, but if it's declined you will be charged a $31.00 fee." I smiled and thought, "No. That's fine. I'll just frame it and hope that one day it looks more like an eight." So after she deposited one of my checks I left, walked straight over to the ATM, fixed my indiscernible date issue, and deposited the check there. The whole time thinking - "They've got a serious flaw in their system here...".

After my bank encounter I decided that I had clearly had it with customer service for the day and thought it best to just head home. Errand running ended. But for kicks and giggles I decided to get a little bit of gas because I couldn't think of a better way to spend that thirty bucks. I mean, except for giving it to that bank lady.

I hadn't taken but two steps into our house when I realized that I hadn't taken the crap to be returned stuff with me when I ventured into the Saturday world this morning. Luckly me. Looks like I've saved something special to do later in the afternoon. Maybe I'll reward myself with a second death drink. Or perhaps with the destroyer of all elementry school children everywhere - the cupcake.

Lightning McQueen

2008-05-23T09:18:00.004-06:00

Gwen Scout, my beautiful niece and super cool kid, spent four days with her Gamma & Gampa and they did a lot of crazy things. My parent's house is a little bit like child heaven - trains, tents, tunnels, orange trees, berry bushes, swimming pools, watermelon popsicles & toys, toys everywhere.

Gampa however is so cool because he owns Lightning McQueen, and lets her drive it! Who knew that Gampa drove a real Lightning McQueen?!? Gampa really is the coolest. Uncle Naan and Aunt Joojie are counting down the days until she comes to visit. It's nice of her to visit us, even though we don't drive race cars.

Oregano

2008-05-21T16:58:00.003-06:00

Summertime Dinner

2008-05-19T09:54:00.004-06:00

Start eating 5:45p. Marinated & grilled chicken. Bread toasted on the grill with a white bean, garlic & oregano dip. Baby Bree & strawberries, two bottles of wine, salad & couscous. Espresso & ice cream. Walking back into the house, arms piled high with dishes only to realize that it is 11:00p. This is why we wait all year for dinner in the garden.

I apologize that the only photos happened after all of the food had been devoured - but when your hands and chin are dripping with olive oil and juice from a strawberry - it's not exactly at the forefront of your mind to take a photograph. I'm sure you understand.

Yes. Our house is magical.

Quintessential Summer Vacation Sunglasses? Check.

2008-05-14T16:29:00.006-06:00

California. Chicago. New York. Yea, these'll work.

The Reaction.

2008-05-12T21:13:00.005-06:00

You don't have to study tomorrow.

What?!?

Summer Time

2008-05-12T16:00:00.001-06:00

"And now," cried Max, "let the wild rumpus start!"

It was starting to become funny...

2008-05-09T09:26:00.006-06:00

I have been officially accepted to the University of Colorado at Denver.

so close. so. very. close.

2008-05-04T21:20:00.003-06:00

12 May 2008, 4:00p it will all be over.

This morning I strung the lights in the trees in our garden and it's starting to feel like summer. This is going to be the longest week of my l-i-f-e. Drama, I know but - deal.

George McCraw & Hampton Dunn - Grandpas We Miss.

2008-05-03T14:23:00.005-06:00

The Writing

2008-05-02T21:36:00.005-06:00

My sister in law is convinced that I should major in something to do with writing. Like creative writing. Each day she says this to me. Each day I make the scrunchie, yuck face.

"They" say that my writing is humorous and honest. To me it seems honestly boring, "Have you read my boring post? The one that slowly meanders it's way through the paragraph as if it walked in with purpose and then couldn't quite remember what it was and found itself opening the microwave to put the milk away?". My writing has no direction much like my life has no direction. Direction-less. Well more like direction-void, because my writing does not have less direction that it used to, it just had no direction from the get go. My writing seems self indulgent at best and ridiculous most of the time. Maybe heartfelt, but heartfelt wanderings and indulgent musings are still crappy writing, even if you did really feel it. "This funny antidote is really from my heart," well great, but it's still a terrible read. A muddled merry-go-round. If I wait until there is something "meaningful" or productive or finished or hell good to write about there would be nothing here. When is it good enough? Oh probably never. Not competitive - just... Everyone is a writer and everyone is a guitar player - well... Many shouldn't write, and most shouldn't play. Here's the thing, I'm not even totally interested in me. At best I find myself mildly amusing & unnecessarily sarcastic - but a "good read". Humm. I don't know about that. Perhaps I am gifted beyond reason - too easily able to laugh at myself and therefore my writing is sub par because I'm okay to laugh it off and say, "Well I never said I was a writer!" There's the "they" that say that you can hear my inflection and my voice through my writing - but here's the deal, can a stranger hear it? Someone who's never met me? It's debatable - and leaning far to the no side. One slightly humorous sentence amidst a sea of barf-o, does not good writing make. So do I confine myself to only future posts of superb writing? No - because then there would be no more posts. But I do wish for it to be more. Or if not more, let's at least try for less bad. Funny tone cannot cover up bad, wandering writing.

New York Train Trip

2008-05-01T00:39:00.001-06:00

Quintessential sunglasses have been purchased. Pictured soon.

our house

2008-04-30T23:53:00.000-06:00

Herbs Revisited

2008-04-30T16:28:00.006-06:00

Anxiously awaiting the end of the semester ... When summer comes it will bring with it baseball games and dinner in the garden.

In hopes of fooling mother nature I planted Thyme, Lemon Thyme, Chives, Sage and Lavender (& not pictured - Kale, Cilantro, Dill & Swiss Chard).

It's supposed to snow tomorrow. "80 today, snow tomorrow. Stay tuned for the details at 8:00!" [It's crap like that on the news that makes me hate local news, because they say it with such enthusiasm and glee, makes you want to throw your coffee at them, except for then you wouldn't have coffee and they would still be sitting there with their crazed smiles. I call one of our local news persons Beaker (like from the Muppets) he is my least favorite, not the Muppet, but the news man. And yes, the news man does look like Beaker. Great look for a Muppet - bad look for anything non-Muppet. Local news people always just say the cheesiest, lamest, make-you-want-to-vomit nonsense. "Grab your shades!" Another of their horrible sayings. "It's sunny out there - grab your shades!" We have something like 350 days of sunshine here, why would I not always be grabbing my shades? Yes, I am also grumpy in the morning and this may have something to do with my less than amiable feelings towards local news. And yes I realize that I don't have to turn it on. But then how would I know to grab my shades?]

...Back to the garden.

Sean's all about the "from seed" way of growing things. I gave it a whirl. It was just dandy - and now I'm done with it. Mostly because our spring is too cold and snowy and the summers are too short, and too hot. Once my stuff was coming up, it was dying. This year I'm all about the instant herb. I could feasibly plant and harvest all in one day. Mind you, not probably the most advisable way to go about it, but I could, which is the point. I should probably mention that I did spend a good 15 minutes covering all of my new "babies" with plastic bags so as to keep them out of the frost-snow-sleet-rain-frozen-ness that is supposed to fall from the sky tomorrow. [According to the lady who wears a lot of hairspray.]

While I was planting my new herbs, Sean just read books about seeds, and how to do... I don't know what to your seeds - sing them songs, and maybe they talk pretty one day. Clearly, this all says a lot about who I am and who he is. Sarcastic vs. patient. Yup, pretty much sums it up.

Daytime TV Beware!

2008-04-27T09:07:00.006-06:00

Inside my head, you might hear this phrase on a continuous mind numbing loop, "I can't study like this. There. No. I can't study like this. There. No. I can't study like this!".

As mentioned before I've got serious skills in the area of procrastination. When I was younger, I hadn't quite honed said skills. Now that I'm above the fray, I would never do something so trivial as watching the tele to avoid homework. It's taken 24 years, but ho, watch out Sally Jessy Raphael!

The process now looks a bit like this:

1) Collect all books, notes, papers, pens, markers and note cards from the various suspiciously mystifying places they've ended up. Who put my Microbiology notebook under the dining room table, beneath this blanket?????? Oh. Me.

2) Sit down.

3) Collect myself, take a deep breath.

4) Open book.

5) Read one sentence.

6) Ooh. I need a drink of water.

7) Sit down, with water. Start again.

8) Ooh. My hair is in my face. I should put it up.

9) Sit down, with water, hair up. Start again.

10) Ooh. Those baseboards are really dirty. Gross.

11) Clean baseboards. Aaaah. So much better.

12) Water. Hair up. Clean baseboards. Start again.

13) Ooh. I should probably vacuum today.

14) Water. Hair up. Clean baseboards. Vacuumed house. Start again.

15) Ooh. Too much water. I need to go to the bathroom. Hey! This bathroom is gross... It needs to be cleaned.

16) Water, Hair, Baseboards, Vacuum, Visit & Clean bathroom. Start again.

17) Whew. Man, I'm kinda hungry.

18) Make lunch.... notice the dishes that need to be done...

19) Water, Hair, Baseboards, Vacuum, Bathroom, Dishes. Start again.

20) Look at clock. Man, I've been doing homework for HOURS. I need a break. Probably best to just finish this up tomorrow.

House - so clean during the semester...

your mother does not work here... to the extreme.

2008-04-21T16:30:00.003-06:00

It has been some time since I've witnessed, or noticed something hilariously ridiculous at my "college of choice". I mean I notice many an outlandish and bizarre occurrence there on a daily basis, however - this one, was clearly a golden opportunity.

I went into the "study lounge" which I had yet to frequent in my three years of attendance. It was alright, didn't smell too bad, was quiet (as the many signs insured me that it would be) and as I was walking towards an unoccupied cubicle, I noticed a sign on the wall. This is what it said word for word. Seriously, I could not have made this up.

"Please pick up any food and trash when you leave. We are trying to decrease the insect and rodent issues in the campus center."

Ooook. I was not aware that there was an insect and rodent issue - but now this "clean up after yourself" sign has made me PAINFULLY aware that there is.

Add another one to the "Cons" side of the list for this place of higher education...

uh oh ... ten little fingers & ten little toes

2008-04-13T18:39:00.003-06:00

due date: 10 December 2008

we are quite excited and anxiously awaiting the new addition to our family.

addition via my brother & his wife - that's right "Joojie" & "Naan" will be an aunt and uncle again!

my vague, vague life...

2008-04-07T17:55:00.005-06:00

I did not get in.

I might go to Metro.

It is clear that I am not in charge of my life or my existence - and I am thankful for that. [Because clearly I do not know what I'm doing. Sometimes it's like a lab experiment that gas gone awry - the kind where you give a sideways glance at your lab partner and you both make the "oh crap" look ... and then start to try and control the laughter.]

I am tired in my soul.

Clarity is slow at coming in my life...

Sometimes I wonder if Murphy is stalking me.

magic markers

2008-04-03T22:23:00.006-06:00

although time consuming, I decided to make my own wrapping paper for a birthday gift I'm sending out ... needed to do something creative in the midst of all of this rote memorization. the design I can't claim, it's a copy from one of my favorite mugs. I just like it a lot.

dreams

2008-04-01T14:12:00.002-06:00

I had a friend in high school who would become genuinely angry with you about things that your dream self had done.

Conversations would proceed as follows:

You: Morning K.

K: No. I'm angry with you.

You: What? What did I do...?

K: It was your dream self.

You: What?!?

K: Your dream self. I'm not talking to you.

Clearly there is no way to argue yourself out of that one. You simply had to let it pass. It really isn't wise or advisable to argue with the crazy in people.

Last night I dreamt that I was sitting in an old, eclectic, warm house, bursting with friends. Classically milling about after what must have been a magical dinner. Some were drinking, some were still picking at dessert, some lying down on a couch or slouched into an overstuffed chair. I was still at the table talking and laughing with my friend Shalene and .... Adrian Brody.

This morning I woke, increasingly jealous of my dream self.

...and we bought one of these this weekend

2008-03-16T23:47:00.003-06:00

it's an exciting book

2008-03-16T23:10:00.003-06:00

I will spend the rest of this evening and probably a fair portion of the early morning (do to my complete lack of time management skills) studying the respiratory system. the above photograph is of tracheal epithelium showing both ciliated cells and nonciliated goblet cells. so pretty. however, let's be positive, glass half-full type of people. it's not that I lack time management skills, it's just that my time wasting skills are highly developed. h-i-g-h-l-y developed.

on a completely different note, because although I know that you were riveted by the above topic, one must move on, least we find ourselves stuck tumbling down a rabbit hole of looping conversation about epithelium - which, is more easily done that one might imagine. I spent the better part of my time wasting skills researching a trip to upstate new york via the train. it's all very exciting. the prospect of traveling by train, and being able to spend our "lay over" time in chicago roaming the city, exploring & eating incredible pizza is strangely more alluring than being stuck in airports (and all that comes with them) for 24 hours straight. if we can pull this off well, we could be planning our most romantic "period piece" vacation ever. traveling by train to the grandparent's lake cottage, spending a day in chicago on departure and return travel, and enjoying our strange compartment room on a train sounds like a trip that will ensue an onslaught of incredible stories. not to mention that scenes of the darjeeling limited will flash through my memory continually - hopefully some quintessential sunglasses can be purchased for this trip...

dada da da do

2008-03-12T19:53:00.003-06:00

...you're gunna want it.

jaymay has stolen my heart. especially the song gray or blue from their "new" (released this past november) album autumn fallin. maybe it's the fact that the lyrics are lovely, or perhaps that they made great use of a xylophone, a ukulele and a string bass; but it's like someone wrote incredible strolling music.

brings back a little of the feeling like life can still be romantic. two years ago, when i was walking out on the rickety old wooden dock at the lake house in upstate new york on a balmy july evening and i encountered fireflies for the first time. it was like my still small voice said, "oh. life is romantic. indelibly romantic".

aspirations part II

2008-03-07T13:00:00.007-07:00

if in any way i could write this well i might not feel so awkward about having a blog. (note: not so awkward. i would still feel awkward about it.) this may be one of the truest, and most hysterical, things i have ever read. this post in particular. but she in general is hilarious - [the underwear drawer]. one of those people who makes you feel like you could have odd stalker tendencies if you lived in closer proximity. or that you might find yourself desperately trying to be a friend to a total stranger, because they are that cool.

also she gives me hope that sean and i can survive whatever may come in this crazy journey that we've embarked upon. these next...this next decade of our lives is THE scariest thing i've ever decided to take on with someone. but it is a huge consolation that i feel that somehow i won't have to lose myself in the process. that the madness within which gives me the ability to laugh at myself and at life, freak out inside while upholding some illusion of normalcy to the passing public and create honest, albeit sarcastic, narration to my life will be of some help in this, the craziest of things i've ever done.

homework

2008-03-03T00:40:00.004-07:00

this weekend...awww nope, monday morning 1245am.

last weekend i spent my time drawing...try not to be too jealous.

friday afternoon boulder

2008-03-01T14:22:00.003-07:00

yesterday sean and i spent some time at pekoe. just sitting in the outside cafe with kenna, drinking iced chai and an americano. kenna said she was fine and didn't want anything. we enjoyed the little bit of sunshine, got some studying done and then needed to move on. we strolled over to north boulder park and let kenna chase after pieces of sticks that we could find. once we had sufficiently worn out the dog, we walked back over to ideal market/whole foods and bought some soup & pasta salads for dinner, sat down at the tables outside and enjoyed our meal. soon after sean headed to work for the night. but it was a sweet afternoon.

aspirations

2008-02-29T18:52:00.007-07:00

the burrow. i think that's what i want our home to be. if i can achieve that in life, i will feel good about who i have become. unpretentious, honest, welcoming, full of laughter, full of food, full of family, full of friends...

today's special

2008-02-25T17:25:00.003-07:00

for sure this photo is phenomenal. you can follow my cousin's journey via their website Riding the Spine. this photo is from their latest set in costa rica, just a little "biking hammock colony" i believe is what Jacob called it.

the iPod muddle [like those mint leaves]

2008-02-25T17:15:00.004-07:00

rodrigo y gabriela, what was i doing with my life before i started listening to this stuff? jack, you had me from the first line of the first song and you've delivered again. amy winehouse with that crazy jazzy funk is infections. shins, there are no words. spoon, you motivate me like none other. BNL *sigh*, your like home...memories, fondness, fun, honest. modest mouse - yes puh-lease.

the reward

2008-02-23T18:42:00.002-07:00

well this saturday night had hopes to be incredible. it has really taken a nose dive quickly... we were going to go out to dinner [corridor 44] and have a date night, and then drop by deanna's european farewell party, and then stop by the bars and wish my friend terri a very happy 24th birthday. see, it would have been a noteworthy evening my friends.

alas, sean ended up having to work tonight... & because i truly, truly cannot get my act together since getting back from cumberland island i have realized that i have 2 chapters of anatomy & physiology to read, 4 chapters of microbiology to read, 2 online assessments and a substantial, seriously extensive map of the human body to label [just the cardiac and circulatory systems however], as well as 2 exam outlines to begin/finish, OH and a ridiculously hard 6 question homework handout...one of those takes you 2 hours to answer one question, and even after that you're holding your breath and making the confused face hoping that what you wrote might in some strange way resemble something close to an answer.

so tonight i am doing none of the aforementioned charming activities. i am buckling down and finishing most of the "should have dones" that i should-have-done earlier in the week. on the other hand, as my husband was leaving for work tonight he said, "get all your work done so that tomorrow night we can celebrate and drink martinis and watch the oscars!". aaahh, i do love that man.

now about the little matter of me not being able to get my act together since returning from the island. let me tell you why that is. chiefly, every morning i would wake up at 700am and throw a sweater on over my pajamas, stuff my feet into my boots, walk down stairs using the secret stairwell that goes straight to the kitchen [with only a brief option of a stop off @ the bar], fill two to go cups with fresh steaming coffee, walk back up the stairs [this time stopping and grabbing two bottles of orange juice from the bar fridge], climb back in bed with sean where we would sit and watch the sunrise while drinking our coffee & oj. then we'd get ourselves dressed for the day and head downstairs for some breakfast. while eating breakfast someone would come in, tidy up our room, change our sheets, make our bed and pick up our wet towels. after breakfast it was off to adventure, but first we would stop by the kitchen and pick up our picnic lunches that had been made for us... absurdly incredible picnic lunches. then it was off to ride bikes around the island, hang out at the beach, visit the marshes, take naps on the bed swings on the porch, visit with the family, explore the ruins, scout out armadillos, wild horses & wild turkeys. upon returning from a day of adventuring you could head down to the dining room and pick up a bowl of staggeringly good soup and some sweet tea. then all you had to worry about for the rest of the evening was showering and dressing up for happy hour & dinner. did i mention that you didn't even have to pick up your own dishes. finished with that cup of coffee??, just leave it on the table, or the porch, or wherever you happen to be, someone will be along to get it....there actually was no where to take your dirty dishes even if you wanted to.
all in all it was truly, absurdly relaxing & wonderfully fun. however facing reality has been, well more than just an adjustment.