July 9, 2011-

In twelve hours I had more fun than I've had in ages! First A grand adventure to Hammond Indiana with Randy, my partner in crime. We decided weeks ago that we would get tattoos together. Well, the day came, and there we were...looking through Tattoo portfolios at a very trendy upscale and expensive tattoo parlor. Well, if I was going to get a full back dragon tattoo, I might consider this place, but we were after something simple and affordable. And we didn't want to make an appointment for September to come back. Not kidding....a two month wait. And the place looked like a dental office. well a dental office covered with tattoos, but still.So off we went to the next place. We used the intergoogleweb to do some research beforehand, so we had three places checked out. We were very happy at the second place- it was clean, a bit dark, small, and perfect. We had brought our designs with us, and got a very reasonable deal. I gave them an idea for my ring tattoo, and the artist drew up something very cool that I really like. It will probably fade a bit, being on my finger, but that's fine. Subtle and small tattoos are what I'm looking for. I got a foot and finger tattoo and Randy went for the studly bicep.

After our artwork, we were off to the Horseshoe Casino. My not-so-secret famous crush, Craig Ferguson was doing stand up, and we had tickets eight rows back. Randy took some amazing photos while I just totally zoned on Craig. First, he's funny. He can make me laugh until I cry, and second, he just makes it all feel so intimate. One look, a raised eyebrow, a simple mouthed "I know!" makes you feel like he's talking right to you. **sigh** huge crush. I met up with one of my tweeps- Fanny57 (waves) and just missed meeting up with several more. I wish we could have gotten one large group photo, but maybe next time.

Thanks Randy for taking all the photos. over 200 of my very own craigy images. wOOt!

What a great idea!

http://ht.ly/3GpDt

small personal towels to use instead of wasting paper towels. Cleaner, and you know what it's like to use those blower things that don't work and you just give up and wipe your hands on your jeans anyway?

Save the planet and be utterly cool.

And we all know how important it is to Don't Panic, and always take your towel....

what I'm thankful for...

That this holiday is over. I've been home for four days.

So this two line journal thing... is supposed to free me and make me happy. ummm...

I've posted more often. That's good.

I've said less. That's probably good too. Brevity is the soul of wit.

But sometimes life is ordinary, and I can't see blogging about ordinary, even though ordinary is relative.

But my relatives aren't ordinary in any way. They are all exceptional. Some are exceptionally brilliant, some exceptionally self righteous, some exceptionally kind, some exceptionally selfish, some exceptionally uncommunicative, which is exceptionally OK with me, in some cases.

See, I like the whole stream of consciousness thing going here. I can't do that with two sentences, unless they are exceptionally long.

So I was thinking the other day- I do that sometimes- usually not at work though- that we have become a generation of journalists. We blog more than we would ever write. I have lovely journals started thirty years ago with about five pages written in. I seldom write anything anymore. Everything is electronic. Well, we have a wonderful tie to the past with all the journals of pioneers, surveyors records, letters and written artifacts of the past. it would be wonderful if all this information on the intergoogle will always be there, but what if it isn't? I files saved on 5 1/2" floppies. I'll never be able to get it. I have stories on disc for my word processor that was pre-DOS. I tweet poetry all the time. Will twitter always be there? Sometimes it's not there now. Should I just resign myself that what I have to say isn't important enough for posterity. Well, that's the truth, but I may say something of value someday.

Is someone printing a hard copy of the intergoogle and the tweetybox? If you are, out there then do me a favor. Fucking lose Farmville, OK?

November 22, 2010

I say I work better under pressure, but I don't.

I lie and tell myself the ends justify the means.

Is truth important when lies are kinder?

November 20, 2010

Saturday. So maybe I should just make these weekly two sentence journal entries...

So the holiday is coming. I really don't care. I think I've decided that holidays are kinda phony. If you don't really spend time with your family all year, then why get all sentimental about them at the holidays? I have completely done away with christmas. No more gifts from me , because I'd rather send gifts when I want, when they are needed, and not when someone else tells me that I have to. My two sentences have become a paragraph, and not what I intended, so....

1. Some people thrive on drama, and have the capability to self manufacture in case of a shortage.

2. I loathe drama.

two line journal three? four? whatever!

So I'm supposed to remember crap? Is this three or four or seventy seven? Who cares...

today's journal

I saw a junco and downy woodpecker discussing feeder protocol when I came home from work. Then a chickadee flew in and made a final judgement.

Birds are smarter than humans.

more one line two line journals

today- November 11, 2010

Many things are ending, short term projects, longer term projects, and soon, the biggest project of all, and I'm feeling relief, no stress, and very calm.

This is wonderful.

two sentence journal last three days

Tuesday- 11/2 This was election day.

Most people are reasonable, but there are those for whom being right is more important than being gracious.

Wednesday- 11/3 day of preparation

if you have a lot to do, and are very tired, you can get everything done if you break everything down into very small steps.

Thursday- 11/4 it all pays off.

Getting everything done means I can attend a conference with people I like before I even meet them, with no stress or worries, and true relaxation can start.

One sentence journal

I was poking around online and found something called the Happiness Project, or some such thing.

One way they said to have a happier life was to journal every day, but only do one sentence. I don't know how this can make you happy, unless you focus on the best thing that happened to you each day. I doubt I'll focus on the best each day, but I think that I'll try some kind of two sentence journal. Sentence one is just he one thing that I did that day. Kind of a reference point for me. The second sentence will be how I'm feeling because of it. I don't think happiness is ignoring what makes you unhappy. I think happiness is learning to deal with the bad things without it ruining everything else about your day.

And two sentences aren't much. Life is going to be getting very busy for me very soon.

so here the first two sentences:

1.) I traveled to Iowa for Uncle Fred's 90th birthday party today, and got to visit with family for a few hours.

2.) I am truly grateful for my friends in my life, who have become my real family over the years.

à bientôt!

This old guitar

I play the guitar. This might be news to my friends, but probably not too surprising. When I was 14 my Dad bought me cheap guitar, used, for Christmas. It was black. I played it until my fingers bled. I played it so much, every waking hour, I wore the wrapping off the strings. I learned everything John Denver wrote, then moved on to Neil Diamond, and then started writing my own very bad songs. I used to fall asleep playing that guitar, wake up with it in the bed, and play again. I could play both parts of Dueling Banjos. My boyfriend (now husband) could play all of Stairway to Heaven. He still can. I played into my twenties. Then I got busy working, paying bills, getting old.

I still had that same old guitar. It got old too. The varnish cracked. Bits fell off. Strings broke and were never replaced. I asked my husband to fix it for me, but it really wasn't worth it. He bought me a new one, all shiny and blond, like a trophy wife. I played it, we played together sometimes. He played it. It's a good, nice guitar.

Then for some reason known only to him, my Dad bought himself a guitar. Dad used to have a gorgeous Martin Archtop guitar and I picked on it when I was about 10. Learned my first song on that Martin. Proud Mary. It had only two chords. That's good, because that's all I knew. I have a tape of my Dad playing and singing that Martin and he sounds like Hank Williams. That's Senior, the really good one. At 70, he bought a new guitar so I could teach him how to finger pick. Dad had arthritis in his hands, but was determined. He had lung cancer, and I think this was on his bucket list. I never heard him play the new guitar, or sing "I'm so Lonesome I Could Cry" in a way that always made me cry.

Now I have Dad's guitar. I'm still very busy paying the bills, running here and there, but sometimes I have to pull out that guitar. It usually starts with a song on the radio that I used to play. Tonight it was "Mr. Bojangles" and Dad's guitar had to come out, get dusted slowly, like a gentle waking caress with a my hand, and it had to sing me another song. My fingers are getting a bit stiff, and I don't have the calluses anymore, but the fingers and the guitar still remember. After a tune-up, a few plinks to warm up, that opening riff for Mr. Bojangles was still there.

Dance, Mr. Bojangles, Dance.

And my old, broken guitar? I see it every day, in the corner of my bedroom. I know the music is still in there, even though it sits silent. I'll probably never play it again, but I don't have to. I can still hear Dad being so lonesome he could cry. The music lives in my heart.

This old guitar taught me to sing a love song

taught me how to laugh, and how to cry.

It introduced me to some friends of mine, and brightened up some days,

and helped me make it through some lonely nights.

What a friend to have on a cold and lonely night.

-This Old Guitar by John Denver

Thanks John. Thanks Dad.