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Catch up...Ketchup? Catsup?
Wednesday, October 31, 2007
Well I was working at the lab, late one night . . .
So maybe it’s the delightful spookiness in the air from all the Halloweeny goodness, but today was better. It could also be just because I don’t feel like I have a spike in the side of my head anymore. I am still feeling all kinds of topsy-turvy, but I’m pretty sure I know what that’s all about. I am at a metaphorical crossroads. I am on the cusp of . . . something (hopefully good). And that’s exciting uh-huh it is. But also scary. Now, I’m okay with a smidgen of scary, but what I worry about is discerning between the “whee! We’re expanding our personal horizons” good-kinda-scary, and the kind of scary that people in horror movies ignore (to their own peril EVERY DANG TIME, I might add) when they are all wanderin’ about the abandoned house/motel/abbatoir/souvenir shop.
No one likes being scared. Okay well, some folks like being pretend-scared. Freaks that they are. But most people are averse to actual fear/terror. We’ll do a lot of things to avoid being frightened in fact. Including not attempting something that might work out well. Now, I’m all for the healthy fear (you know, the voice that whispers “ummm, maybe we should wait for backup before we venture into that store where the clerk went ya-ya and killed all those folks with commemorative spoons…”). But sometimes your brain makes you think you’re on the verge of entering the haunted memorabilia outlet, when in fact you are just applying for a job. Or asking a cute boy out. Or thinking about opening a bakery. Or dusting off a novel you started back in the day.
So much like I advise y’all to look both ways before crossing the street, I also think we should give ourselves a little mental shake before we decide something is terrifying. Just in case it’s not as scary as it seems.
Unless it’s like, zombies or rabid wolves or some craziness. Then you should just run.
SOD: Oh it has GOT to be the Monster Mash by Bobby “Boris” Pickett
BOD: A Mathematician Plays the Stock Market by John Allen Paulos (it’s actually, officially the “handsome pedestrian tome o’ the day” as I found it, tucked under the arm of a stylish gentleman wearing a very enjoyable hat. I’m sure he had no idea what I was going on about when I declared it/him to be my “book of the day”. Perhaps I will turn up on his blog as “random harmless crazy person encounter of the day”)
Posted by Moonlight Lee at 3:43 PM 0 comments
Tuesday, October 30, 2007
Cue the melancholy music . . . maybe some Henry Mancini?
So, I had a post all written. Late, but almost 400 words, maybe not my best, definitley not my worst. But all of a sudden, I don't feel like putting it up. Can't skip two days in a row though, insists my tiny, internal taskmistress. So I am composing right on the press, so to speak. It shouldn't be too hard, I've not got much to say at the moment save these five pithy facts:
1) I have had a headache like a big spike in the side of my brain for about ...five hours now.
2)I realized today that I still miss the CookiePuss. Terribly. There's a huge, no-less-painful-for-its-sterotypicality hole where her warm little Abby-ness used to be.
3)Everywhere I look, it seems folk are pairing up. For some reason this irked me today.
4)It's cold and I am not INTO that.
5)Despite these things, I have so much more, than even I can imagine, to be grateful for.
That's all, y'all. Tune in tomorrow for our regularly scheduled jibber-jabber.
Friday, October 26, 2007
A Spooktaclular Mess . . .
Yeah yeah, I know it’s a pun up there in the title. It’s for my mom okay so shut it.
And anywayyyyys, it’s kinda descriptive of how things are for me right now. Even if I wasn’t mired in costume-makin’-related-fatigue, things would still be kinda messy. My flat is messy, my tired brain is messy, and my work life is mess-mess-mess-a-roonie-doonie. See, I have a job, and it’s pretty good. Pays the bills (well, almost), is located in a funky section of town that is one mere bus ride away from home (with numerous routes to choose from), I can wear what I want, they don’t bitch about the nose ring
(side rant: people, will you reconcile yourself to the nose piercing already? There are folks wanderin’ ‘round with horns in their ears and stuff inserted under their skin, I’ve seen grandmas with nose rings, not to mention all those women for whom that particular piercing is a normal part of their culture. It’s commonplace. It’s practically boring. Get over it already!)
Where was I? Oh yeah – work. Pretty good. Except that come January, the office is moving. To an industrial park – and not even the “good” industrial park that is fairly developed, with places to eat and a bus route or two that go directly there, no no. To the other one, out past the refinery, where the one bus that goes that way will drop me a good 15-30 minutes walk away from the office. It is a veritable wasteland and makes my so-into-the-downtown-I-practically-don’t-g
So I’m throwing this out to alllll my faithful readers – what do y’all think I should do? Stay with the job I have? Find something else similar? Strike out on my own? Start that bakery that my friend Glenn is always yammering at me about? Run away to the circus? Finish that romance novel I started? And should I feel guilty about not wanting to work in a place that gives me the psychological dry heaves???
I hope one of you knows, ‘cause I sure don’t. all I know right now is that it’s Friday, it’s almost five, and come sunset, I’m gonna be disguised as a Hamadryad. Don’t be surprised to find me perched in your oak tree. Huh. I wonder if I could get paid for that?
BOD: What Colour Is Your Parachute?
SOD: One Way Or the Other - Blondie
Thursday, October 25, 2007
SNAHU(?) Situation Normal, All Halifaxed Up!
Feeling quite a bit less crankers than I was yesterday, at least partly due to getting some more sleep (though whomever it was that called me at 10 pm last night and did not leave a message I just want to say to you, yeah, I’ll be returning your call some morning around four a.m, asshat). Being a screener, that’s one of my biggest peeves – people who call you but don’t leave messages. The only one who can do that and not incur my wrath is my friend M, and that’s only because she is fabulous in many, may other ways . . .
But today’s post isn’t going to be about my friend – fabulous she may be. This is another rant folks, one I have been delivering verbally, in multiple versions, for some time now.
This is about Halifax, and it’s city council (aka asshat central).
Right now everyone is talking about the cat bylaw. You know the cat bylaw? The one even members of council acknowledge is unenforceable and unaffordable? Idiocy, plain and simple – mainly because it is not even going to solve the problems that started the whole dialogue in the first place. My absolute favourite examples of city-council-bologna are from earlier in the year. The first one, still ongoing, is the pretty-much-universally-maligned Chebucto road-widening. I belong to the Facebook group “the Chebucto road-widening is an embarassment” and that about sums it up. Any one even remotely involved with city planning, urban design, or alternate forms of transportation will tell you – this kind of thinking is two or three decades behind the times. It’s short-sighted, and dumbass to boot. But then, what do you expect from the ad geniuses who, up until very recently (and this is my second favourite example) used the Grand Parade as a frickin’ parking lot?!
I’ve said it several other places, and now I’m saying it here. When the municipal elections roll around next October, I am seriously considering vying for a spot. Because it has become blatantly obvious to me that there is a profound lack of focus on the issues that are important, the problems that really impact the folks here in HRM. Ideas that will improve the quality of life for as many citizens as is possible, and upgrade our image in a meaningful way . . .
And those priorities do not involve a particular focus on cats OR the grand parade.
Though I’m not ruling out a parade o’ cats.
BOD: How to take over the world…beginning with city council (ok I made this one up too)
SOD: 76 Trombones, from the soundtrack of the Music Man
Wednesday, October 24, 2007
Behold the Sleepy Eyes of Death* . . .
Scathing is a good word. It suits my mood and the tenor of my thoughts today. I tried to go to bed early last night. It kinda worked, but I still was very opposed to the idea of getting up this morning. I really need to get some more sleep, if only to rule out exhaustion as the source of my crankosity.
Not to mention if there is to be any hope of Halloween fun, I need to get all rested up. But before I get rested up, methinks I need to get a little riled up. And keep in mind, I am eating a cookie right now, so imagine this wrath not tempered by baked deliciousness . . .
Okay folks, we need to talk. Those of you who do NOT have companion animals can feel free to ignore what follows. Anyone who shares their living space with a quadruped (or something with wings/fins) listen up: the next person who posts a message, starts a group, or spreads the word trying to get rid of their cat/dog is going to have a very angry me on their doorstep. It is really very simple: unless you are sure, as in certain, as in no doubt whatsoever, that you can look after an animal for the duration of it’s life, DON’T ADOPT ONE!!! Seriously, if you love them but don’t have a lifestyle that can jive with being a responsible caretaker you can do lots of other things – donate money, volunteer at a shelter, help to look after your neighbour’s crazy shepherd mix or your best friend’s maine coon. But for the love of St. Francis of Assisi, DO NOT go out and impose yourself on some relatively defenseless creature. Not just for the animal’s sake, but for your own. Because seriously seriously seriously, if I read one more “oh I’m moving and I can’t take Mr. FluffyWhiskers with me”, I will come after you.
I drove, in a moving truck from Ontario to Nova Scotia with two cats and two fish, and one of the felines yowled basically the whole way. I have friend who lives in an apartment that won’t allow pets – so he pays RENT for his cat to live with his old roommate! Odd? Perhaps. But better to be odd than some selfish jerk who adopts a cat or dog or llama and then tries to get rid of them like an old sofa or a sweater that doesn’t fit anymore…
I understand that sometimes life goes so very wrong that we are forced to make a choice when all the options suck. But I think the percentage of situations where this applies is very very very small . . . much like the hearts and minds of those who would bring a creature into their world, only to toss them out again.
It just occurred to me that I could have mentioned something here about the newly-voted-in-cat-bylaw . . . perhaps I’ll yammer on about that tomorrow. Yes.
KarmicDe sez: “May your treatment of animals be repaid in kind.”
BOD: Animal Liberation by Peter Singer
SOD: Bitch by the Rolling Stones
*http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sleepy_Ey
Tuesday, October 23, 2007
Bits & Bobs & Nonsensical Ramblings…
Weird, slo-mo thoughts are rolling around in my head like so many cat-fur-dust-bunnies in the breeze. Add to that a big fat helping of super-sleep-deprived-crankiness (and an apparent obsession with hyphens) and what results is bizarre, even by my standards.
Also, my leg hurts. So I guess this is my whinge-y post for the week?
My original intention was to write about NaNoWriMo (national novel writing month, which would be November).
You know how sometimes you’re walking, and you know the exact route you’re taking, exactly where you’re going and straight there you’re going, without hesitation or confusion? And then there are the times when you wander, backtrack, look around like maybe there is guidance waiting for you on the walls/billboards/passersby? That’s the day/moment I’m having, all indecision and furtive peeks hoping for counsel and trying not to head-bob at my desk. Oh I’m feeling exhausted and overwhelmed, though the good news is I think the feelings of too much whelm are directly related to the lack of rest. Get more sleep, dwell in the land of underwhelmed for a while.
I miss being on vacation. I miss hanging with my folks and their nice house that’s all warm and has a dishwasher and a dog. Of course it is lacking in several fundamental home comforts – primarily my ocean/harbour views and fluffy beloved cats. But the company, food and cultural amenities are all excellent . . .
Land sakes alive Belle Ruth I need to get some sleep. Don’t nobody call me tonight, if all goes as planned, I’m going to bed with the sun.
SOD: anyone for tennis by Cream
BOD: Big Bus Booty Call: My Love Affair With Public Transportation – oops, I’m inventing titles again. But would it not be hilarious to see someone reading that?
Monday, October 22, 2007
More Than Meets the Eye...
I’m back (and fighting the urge to rhyme). Had a week off work, most of which I spent in Ontario with my parents. Like it usually goes down with me, I didn’t do everything/see everyone I wanted to. My failure to spend some time on the escarpment/Bruce trail is particularly frustrating in retrospect. But I said all along that the main reason I was visiting was to hang with my Grandma and Grandpa, my parental units, and their furry menagerie. And I did. Not to mention shopping/eating up a storm (the shoes! The stew!) and watching Transformers (fun & ‘splode-y!) and less than 15 minutes of 28 Days Later (or whatever it’s called, it’s real name is ewwwwwwww!)
But it wasn’t all foodstuffs and finery. I feel like the trip clarified a lot of things in my head, maybe for the simple reason that I talked a lot while I was there, about my life, my past and my future. I returned with a better idea of what I want out of life, a renewed commitment to writing (and somewhat ironically) to refrain from becoming romantically involved with anyone for the near future. I’m simply not ready, and I believe/know that my energy is better used elsewhere.
Things about Ontario/Niagara I failed to appreciate until I got back . . .
I thought this was going to be a big list, but the one thing I can think of right now is my drive past the Horseshoe falls on Friday night. I lived within walking distance of them for the first two decades of my life (give or take a birthday) and yet when I saw them a few days ago I was kinda in awe. I think when we grow up next door to something magnificent, we can lose our appreciation for it. I’m too tired to excavate it, but there is definitely a life-lesson in there somewhere.
And it was beyond nice to spend time with my mom and dad, and especially my grandparents. We took my grandpa Pat out for fish and chips on Friday (to the dining institution that is Betty’s). It all just felt like a gift, y’know?
Things about NS I had forgotten/failed to appreciate until I got back …
It smells a lot better here. The air has less bad stuff in it I think. And the Thumpersteins were WAY fluffier than I remembered.
Funniest part of the whole trip (for me): when I was on my way to Ontario, I said I was going home. And when I was returning east, I did the same.
Bus book – I didn’t catch the title but it looked like a romance novel. Appropriate, since I am thinking about finishing the one I started a few years ago as part of NaNoWriMo.
SOD – Homeward Bound – Simon and Garfunkel
Monday, October 15, 2007
Oland is the beer. O-Land is a whole ‘nother province . . .
So this is gonna be a quick and dirty one folks. YES, even more than it usually is and NO, it has nothing to do with the fact that my moms wants to go shoppin’. I swear.
Despite some major anxietations on my part, the plan ride was basically without incident and I got into town (said town being St. Catherines, natch) early last evening. This morning I had the chance to hang with my one and only cousin before he headed back to Ottawa . . .
And so far, if I had to sum things up in one word I have no doubt which one I would choose: surreal. Surreal not to be able to see the ocean/harbour when I wake up in the morning. Not to smell that ocean-y smell. Today, all I could smell was sidewalks barely damp with rain. This is my first visit back in 3 years, and only the third time I’ve been here since I moved east 6 years ago. I keep forgetting where I am, and then I see something I last saw when I was in high school, and it brings me back – but not to any kind of normalcy, but to a weird netherworld where I’m not sure where or when I am.
I need to think (and mayhap write) more about what is going on in my head, need to find the words to paint an alphabet-picture of my sojourn through time and space. Stay tuned folks, this conversation is to be continued.
SOD: We Are Family – Sister Sledge (? Not sure & I know I could look it up but hey, sweaters are calling my name)
BOD: I have been blessedly free from bus rides in the last 24 hours, so the Bus Book o’ the Day will become the Parental Book o’ the Day: A Thousand Splendid Suns - Khaled Hosseini
Friday, October 12, 2007
Blog post for Friday: wow, what a title...
La goutte d'eau qui fait déborder le vase, (French)
Der Tropfen, der das Fass zum Überlaufen bringt, (German)
De druppel die de emmer doet overlopen, (Dutch)
La gota que derramó el vaso, (Spanish)
La goccia che fa traboccare il vaso, (Italian)
Pictura care a umplut paharul, (Romanian)
Droppen som fick bägaren att rinna över, (Swedish)
Bardaı taıran son damla (Turkish)
Whatever language I write it in, it all means the same thing . . .
I have had it.
I have tried and tried and tried, but I can only struggle so long before I am a big weepy mess (which I am at this very moment on the verge of becoming). I have had it – and worst of all I can’t even vent properly about the nature of my being-done-having-it because not only am very possibly legally insane at this point (and thus not thinking/writing clearly), but if I do say anything specific it’ll just create more DRAMA!!! So what is a girl to do at a het-up time like this?..
Oh wait I know – let Ani do the talking/singing:
“Well, you know they come to clear-cut/they come to strip-mine, they come for some of my big butt my big brain or just a little time/they wanna take me home for dinner/think I’m a bitch if I don’t go/seems like the people who actually like me don’t allow me to say no/
your idea of a conversation, is the third degree/
you know I don’t really know you, and I don’t really want to talk about me…” (Pick Yer Nose by Miz Ani Difranco)
So I could continue on in the same rant-y vein (I know it so well and it goes on for miles, yo) or I could take a breath, push aside the fact that I am going to get soaked when I leve the office, and just. Plain. Reckanize.
Now, I hear y’all asking – “Reckanize what, my silly slang-talkin’ friend?”
Well, there are some facts that need to be acknowledged that go beyond my current state of fed-upped-ness. Like the fact that though I will probably get a little damp when I leave here, it will be to go to my favourite activity o’ the week, African dance class. Not to mention that I will be using my very own healthy and completely mobile body to perform said dance. Or howsabout the fact that it is probably evident to my readers that I could use a bit of a break, which I am in fact getting when I go to O-land this weekend?
Yeah. Like my peep Gandhi said (and I am SO paraphrasing here, not to mention very possibly attributing something to him that he never said) “I was wicked bummed that I had no shoes, until I met a dude without any feet”
It’s all about perspective, isn’t it kittens?
Next time you read me, I’ll be in a place where the pavement threatens to smother the people . . . and eating my weight in Mom’s cookin’. . .
BOD: How To Avoid Kicking All the Idiots In Your Life Right In the Ol’ Slats
(oh wait, maybe that’s a title I invented right now . . . )
SOD: Vacation – The Go Gos
Posted by Moonlight Lee at 3:58 PM
Thursday, October 11, 2007
Free, free, set them free . . .
Housekeeping?
If my blog were a baseball team, this post would be batting cleanup. Over the last couple days I have mentioned several things briefly, and promised to explain/expand/elaborate upon them.
I should preface this whole shebang with a bit of background information – I am having, as a colleague of mine says, “a day”. I’m super-tired ‘cause I stayed up waaayyy past my bedtime last night, I’m freaking out to a moderate degree about missing a week of work due to impending travel, and I am experiencing some drama in the ol’ human-relationships department. So, everything’s pretty much SNAFU, wha?
So, first there was the bakery/bistro. The name of which of course completely escapes me now. I remember the old-fashioned aprons all over the walls. I remember the waitress commiserating with me over my state of tea-related-withdrawal, and how she gregariously offered to make me a big pot with two orange pekoe tea bags, my usual Irish/Scottish/English breakfast not being available. I remember that at one point the kitchen staff started singing “you are my sunshine” to no one in particular, and how even the “half-regular” breakfast was exceedingly yummy, and featured big pieces of homemade-bread-toast and jam that was exactly what preserves imitating apple-pie-filling should taste like.
Ohhhhhh time has gotten away from me again and so I will try to be quick with this one:
Runyararo Zimbabwe Children’s Charity – www.runyararozimbabwecharity.org
This is the organization of the lovely woman I met on Saturday. I bought a great, dramatic, affordable ($12) necklace from her. She also sells Cds, and various knitted enjoyables. The money she makes goes to sending kids to school (something most of us here in Canada take for granted methinks). She can be found at the farmer’s market as well, so go check her out – the jewelry is pretty-pretty and you can totally justify it . . .
Ooops, almost forgot about the Dartmouth Pumpkins! That’s the name that my Saturday-night-ride home came up with as we were getting trash-talked for leaving the party “early” (it was about one a.m.) I think it’s a good name and perhaps something us D-town peeps can rally around (I am strongly considering jerseys and/or tee shirts) when folk from other parts of the HRM are dissing us . . .
BOD: wella wella my fellow mass transportationists must be reading HYW (yeah, that’s it right) and heeded my plea to raise the bar, literature-wise, ‘cause today there was a woman reading a nice new paperback copy of Catcher In the Rye – by the one and only J.D Salinger . . . kudos to you, random bus girl!
SOD: If You Love Someone Set Them Free by Sting (the most familiar of the lyrics – if you love someone set them free, if they come back to you bla bla bla- also attributed as a quote to the author Richard Bach)
Posted by Moonlight Lee at 3:49 PM
Wednesday, October 10, 2007
Hoping for Hannah, part le deux
In case the title didn't give it away, this is the second part of a long post. Go read the first one (from yesterday) it'll help you make sense of it all . . .
My ride home was a fellow Dartmouth Pumpkin (and yes, I will explain that in another post too!). We packed up and began to head out just as the cops showed up (it was past midnight and the joint had been so jumping, I was not at all surprised to see those boys in blue). Once outside we said our farewells to the other li’l drummer boys, then my ride/Pumpkin friend realized we had forgotten a drum (!) and went back to fetch it. I stayed outside to drink in the beauty of the late autumn night. I had noticed that there was a couple fighting across the street, and I kept a small part of my conscious attention on them, but mostly I just wandered up and down the sidewalk, eventually making my way back to the house-party-house just as my traveling companion was coming out the door. Suddenly a woman appeared out of the streetlight haze – one of the people who had been arguing over yonder.
I could tell right away she was upset. But, may God forgive me for this, I suppressed my first instinct (to help ) because I feared she might be a threat to me (those of you who live in the HRM and also not under a rock will perhaps understand my hesitancy – there’s been A LOT of violence goin’ ‘round lately). She kept saying she needed a cab- interspersing it with some garbled stuff about her boyfriend taking all her things, and how she needed to get home before he did. At first I thought she wanted money, so I explained as to how I didn’t have any. Turned out she just needed someone to call a cab for her. So I did, kinda hating myself for all the assumptions I had made, for the lack of trust. And then, it being Saturday night, we waited a while. She was really upset, and kept apologizing, and I kept telling her she didn’t have any reason to apologize. My friend asked if there was anyone we could call for her, a friend that she could meet at home. She said there wasn’t anyone. Even if she hadn’t talked about how embarrassed she was, how stupid she felt, I would have sensed it. Eventually the taxi arrived and she got in. Off it went, and then it was like she was never there.
But she was.
That’s the last I saw of her. But she’s taken up residence in my head ever since. And despite thinking about the situation for several days now, I’m still not sure what I want to write. Some things I know: that the thoughts come easier when I imagine I am speaking directly to her . . . Hannah, I am so worried about you. We don’t know each other at all, except for those minutes after midnight, minutes that could have been hours or days for the impression they left upon me. But like I might have said to you at one point, I know what it’s like to be scared, to feel alone and without any options that feel viable or remotely okay, to feel that in order to obtain a semblance of safety, you must embarrass yourself. I hope I was able to help you. I am sorry I wasn’t brave enough to insist on coming with you, to make sure you would be okay that night. I'm sorry I didn't try harder, do more. I know I kept telling you to stay away from that guy, to call the cops if he came, to get your locks changed a.s.a.p, beautiful sister. I hope you listened to me. I wish I had said it more. I wish I had said more, period. I wish I lived in a world where people felt safe – to give and receive help, to love each other, to reach out, to simply BE.
I wish there was something I could do besides write this post.
I think I’m gonna try and figure out what that might be.
BOD: Hunting Fear by Kay Hooper, and perhaps even more appropriate (though the website has a li’l craziness): Healing Fear by Edmund Bourne
SOD: Small World by Ani Difranco
Posted by Moonlight Lee at 3:44 PM
Tuesday, October 9, 2007
Hoping for Hannah . . . or How I Spent My Thanksgiving Vacay: part one
So, remember my assignment? No? (Good thing it wasn’t YOUR assignment, eh kiddos?) Does writing eleventy-seven hundred words on my adopted quasi-homeland ring a bell? My plan was to start that today. Then the weekend happened, including something I haven’t been able to stop thinking about. And I realized that I was still going to write about my literal and figurative neighbourhoods. The only difference was the subject was to be someone I had never thought of writing about – ‘cause I didn’t know she existed before Saturday night.
Make yourself at home folks. This is gonna be a long’un. (even in two parts)
Saturday was a pretty stellar and unusual day from the start. I got picked up (oh I gets as excited as a puppy about a car ride these days!) and had a drive down to Canning & area. Ate a late breakfast at a lovely little café and bakery, a place so crammed with charm and homebaked goods that it is a post all unto itself. Then I got to watch some amazing African drumming, and buy a necklace from an equally amazing woman who uses all the profits to send kids in Africa to school (she is hoping to make it possible for 100 children this year! Stay tuned and I’ll post about her too). More sunny-day driving and we found ourselves on a beach, surrounded by red-rock-cliffs with faces like kind, long-lost ancestors. The tide was literally running out, moving several feet every second. We watched the hermit crabs body-surfing the clear baby rivers through the sand.
My good friend was suffering a serious case of Thanksgiving-supper-preparation-related sleep deprivation & her partner assured her that the perfect cure was to disrobe, smear sandy mud all over, let it dry in the sun and then swim in the ocean to rinse all her sleepiheadedness away. She gave it a try, transforming into the Mud Goddess of Blomidon, and had you seen her, you would not have even realized she was naked (though the fashionistas among you might have wondered why she chose a wetsuit/unitard in such a muddy brown shade). Whatever the sartorial statement she was making, it did the trick, and she emerged from the ocean refreshed, glowing, beautifull-er than usual. We drove back to Hal-town, stopping long enough to acquire apples, pies, cider.
A few hours at home and then I was out again (my intended weekend o’ solitude in happy tatters), to the same friends’ Thanksgiving day feast. True to its name, it was a delicious, a combination of the old (turkey, cranberry sauce & pumpkin pie) and new (sweet potato french fries & several handsome percussionists for company). Despite feeling the effects of tryptophan and too much whipped cream, I was persuaded to follow a few of the drum guys to a so-called “Libra” party. In true Halifax style, I knew at least four or five people there, including one I had randomly encountered at the last One World Café show. There was Motown playing when we walked in, but soon enough the drums came out and the dancing became downright rhythmic, someones’ North-end front room transformed into a shimmer of gyrating bodies, and hands connecting joyfully with instruments.
That's part one. Part two kinda takes a darker turn. But if we all hold hands, we'll have the comfort of each others presence through the scary bits.
SOD: Ooh Child - The Wondermints
BOD: I didn't see much on the bus. But I think I might spend November penning a tome titled "How To Be Nicer To Each Other and the Planet", and then figure out a way to drop them from the sky . . . or get 'em out some other way.
Posted by Moonlight Lee at 7:42 PM
Friday, October 5, 2007
Not a good weekend to be a turkey. Or a tofurkey, for that matter . . .
So, do I ever start posting at a decent time? Why is it always half-past four when I am finally compelled to start writing? Well, to answer my own questions, there are often too many things to be done, and too many idiots milling about, for me to even consider composing in the a.m or even early afternoon.
I guess I’m sorta disgruntled today. Yesterday I got to spend some time outside, which didn’t really happen for me today. As I am writing this, I can see outside to where the sun is golden and enticing, and happy dogs are continuously strolling past my door. I am happy for the canines, and their humans. Just wish I were out there with ‘em. Everyone else left the office hours ago. And there is always the temptation to leave early – but I’ve never done it. Oh sure, once or twice I left at five to five. But most of the time it’s at least five after by the time I lock up, so that balances out. Because you know that the one day I decide to throw caution to the wind and leave at four-thirty, that’ll be the day that my boss decides to come back to the office. The boss gets all thunder-cloud-lookin’ when pissed, it is scary even if you aren’t the one who messed up, and when it is directed at you . . . oh boy. Not a good scene.
You know what is a good scene though? Puppies. Or kittens. Really, baby animals of any kind – as long as it isn’t angry at you.
Reading through this post, one might get the impression that I am drunk. ‘tis simply untrue. I have a desk, and that desk has a drawer, but there is not bottle of bourbon or any such thing. These are the perfectly sober ramblings of a girl at the end of a long week.
Good thing I’m at the beginning of a long weekend.
Now isn’t that a thought to warm the cockles of your heart?
Sending y’all happy Thanksgiving thoughts and the hope that wherever you might be, you have the chance to spend time with those you love and are grateful for that and so much more…
SOD – Carey by Joni Mitchell (the wind is in from Africa . . . )
BOD – Windows! (Or How To Not Suffocate On a Bus) – okay, I’ll admit it, I made this up. But I am seriously considering writing the dang thing and handing copies out to everyone who seems to be labouring under the misconception that bus windows don’t open!
Posted by Moonlight Lee at 3:28 PM 0 comments
Thursday, October 4, 2007
First thing I remember I was lying in my bed/couldn’t’ve been no more than one or two. . .
I think this might be one of my later posts in the history of posting. . . and consequently it will probably also be one of my more deranged/garbled creations. Oh boy.
Today was a beautiful day, then sun so tangy and poignant that it was almost painful to be inside. There are certainly warmer and sunnier days to be found in the summer, but like sweet goes so much better with salt, the knowledge that the time of these warm days is once again waning brings a level of appreciation that is harder to feel in the heat of August.
‘Cause (& hopefully I’m not bursting anyones’ autumnal bubble) winter is coming. I know, I know, I’ve been trying to deny it, but hangin’ out down Egypt way is not going to keep the snow from flying when Mother Nature decides it’s time.
But for the very near future (this weekend) the meteorological prognosticators are callin’ for blue skies and a big cartoon sun. it may even be nice enough that I am motivated to prune the native-plant jungle that was once my front, side and back yards. At this point it might make more sense to leave it all – seeds for the various creatures to eat, and perhaps all that plant matter will serve as an additional layer of insulation . . . (and yes, I am aware that I’m reaching and y’know what? The stretch feels good). Huh. I’ve never ended a post with a parenthetical phrase before. (no time like the present).
SOD: Late In the Evening – Paul Simon
BOD: Yertle the Turtle
Posted by Moonlight Lee at 8:25 PM
Wednesday, October 3, 2007
Uh huh, uh huh, uh huh uh huh uh huh . . . .
Ooh I’m back and I’m in the mood for bloggin folks! Figured out how to get in to my blog site once again, so head there first if you wants to read the post while it’s still fresh off my fingers and outta my pan.
Oh I was all excited/motivated there and then I hit a sleepy pocket. I had planned to compose a post about my neighbourhood, thus beginning the “Vignettes O’ De’s Life” series that I was going on about yesterday, but I don’t know if I have enough brain cells awake to attempt it. And what I am thinking about now isn’t life, so much, but work.
I need to find a new job. One that doesn’t go against (most) everything that I am. Don’t get me wrong, it’s an interesting job a lot of the time. The company does kinda weird and unique stuff, the people I work with/for are not, (in general) evil taskmasters. But from the moment I begin my day until I flee towards the bus stop, it’s constant interaction – people coming in, people wanting to talk to me, the phone’s ringing and I gotta answer it… Those of you who know me at all will recognize several problems immediately – ‘cause I don’t even like to answer my own phone a lot of the time (call me the Queen of Screen, everyone else does). And while I am fascinated by humans and all their idiosyncratic foibles and such, I am, by nature, an introverted gal, and it just takes too much energy to do what I do. I feel like a cat, and my fur is constantly getting rubbed the wrong way.
That’s my new priority, and my official Thanksgiving resolution: (oh, you didn’t know we have those?) to figure out exactly what kinds of work will leave me somewhat excited/energized (or just not utterly drained & cranky) and then go find those jobs. Or create them.
What I really want to know though, is, can I find someone to pay me (well) for reading, lolling about in bed, and writing this dang blog? Now there’s a livelihood that truly lives up to its name . . .
SOD: Dream a Little Dream – the Ella and Louis version
BOD: no bus this mornin’ so . . . go get yourself the latest copy of Utne Reader. It’s eleventy-seven magazines all in one easy to read periodical. Mmmmmm, alternative news sources . . . it just occurred to me that BOD could also stand for “Blessings of the Day” in which case it would have to be everyone in Burma that isn’t pointing a gun (and maybe some that are???), and my good friend Joyce – I’m thinking about you girl. Thanks for trusting me . . .
Posted by Moonlight Lee at 3:26 PM
Monday, September 24, 2007
Vroom vroom . . . .
Other potential titles for today include "Pedal to the metal" and "Unsafe at any speed". Hmmm, use automotive metaphors muchly?
So what am I going on about this time?
Timing bay-bee. I'm all about the timing of things today/this weekend.
*interruption for pesky, work-related phone call*
apparently composing a blog post, typing said post, holding the phone with my chin, and paying pseudo-attention to the person on the other end is a little too much for me.
I'm going to have to finish this at home, methinks.
Home now, and yeah, the automotive metaphor is apt (apt I tell you!) because what do I do, despite the knowledge that it wreaks havoc with the mileage?
Gas.
Break.
Gas. Break.
Gas. Break.
Gas break gas break gas break gas breakgasbreakgasbreakgasbreakgasbreakgas
Either I’m careening into the turns and crashing into guardrails…or I’m halfaway on the shoulder, getting passed by, getting honked at.
The middle way, middle of the road, middle ground. Uh huh. Can’t say I’m super-duper at balancing my way into any of those places. Not when it comes to my life anyway.
I’m all or nothing. Black or white. Here or there. Near or far. And don’t get me wrong, there is a certain satisfaction in being extreme, whichever end of the continuum I’m currently idling at. When you’re at the edge, the lines look clear and crisp, and it seems easier to discern which side to be on.
But life isn’t really about sides. Not the good kind of life. And relationships don’t tend to thrive in an environment of either-ors. I know, in my brain, that a happy medium is leads to just that - - - happiness. Whereas all that scootin’and stoppin’will leave me with nothin’but an empty tank.
I’m so far into this analogy; I don’t think I can find my way out again.
My sense of direction has never been the best.
SOD: Born to Be Wild, of course
BOD: I never saw it, but wouldn’t “Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance” have been perfect?
Posted by Moonlight Lee at 6:58 PM
Friday, September 21, 2007
Humble as a bumblebee.
Okay, it’s 4:43 kids. Down to the wire I am today. Actually, just used the facilities so now it’s 4:46. I am not even sure what I am going to write about. Maybe about how tired I am, thought it’s my own dang fault for being tempted by the fun and the enticing and staying up later than I should. Maybe I could write about the dance class I am going to tonight. It’s African dance, it’s my second week, and if the dance class were a boy, I’d be crushin’ on him hard and writing his name all over my Hilroy. Despite my fatigue, I’m going because I know I’ll be smiling for days afterward. And tomorrow morning, I’m sleeping in!
I could write about projection – the psychological kind not the movie theatre version. It’s been in my head a lot this week. I’ve come to realize that nine times out of ten, my annoyance/anger at someone else is more about me and what I am putting on that person, and less about whatever obnoxiousness they happen to be spewing (and lately I seem to be surrounded by spewers). It isn’t that people don’t behave badly, but it is almost impossible a lot of the time to separate someone’s bad behaviour from your own perspective and feelings and how those might be affecting your reactions to their idiocy/snottery/whatevery.
I could write about how good the sunshine feels, and the equinox, which is today, full of power and significance, in my humble-bumble-li’l-pagan-girl-opinion. So if you're able, dance under the moon or something tonight . . .
Blessed be, yo.
SOD: You’re So Sober – The Trews/Half Moon – Janis Joplin
Phrase o’ the Day (POD) “Audible smiles” You know when you’re happy, and you make a little noise? That’s an audible smile. Don’t’cha love it? I know ya doooooooo . . .
Posted by Moonlight Lee at 4:01 PM
Wednesday, September 19, 2007
Avast ye scurvy curs and landlubbers!
Okay, it is a well-known fact that I am good, but I don’t think even I am good enough to compose an entire blog post in Pirate talk, even if it is International Talk Like a Pirate Day. Even if I do know an excellent candidate for walking the plank.
Allow me if you will some latitude for the moment to veer off into a short, work and excel related rant: do you know what sucks? Bosses who make requests of you having no idea what kind of work their request actually entails. And what sucks slightly more is having to use an old excel file to create something new when the old is full of sneaky little macros or micros or frickin’ midcros that make the text go diagonally and all that crazy bang-shang-a-lang.
I can’t stand not knowing things. I love to learn but I don’t do so well with ignorance. And it is SO frustrating to know that it is probably some simple little solution, but only if you already know how to solve the problem.
I am having one of those afternoons where it feels like someone put drugs in my chicken schwarma or vodka in my iced tea. I think it’s just fatigue though. Despite being well behaved and going to bed at a reasonable hour last night, I am still tired. Though my throats not sore like it was yesterday, and that’s a positive sign.
Boy oh boy am I ever looking forward to this weekend. Mostly ‘cause it will mean the week is over, also because I have several wonderful things planned: my newest addiction, African dance on Friday, one of my favourites bands the Wassabi Collective on Saturday, and somewhere in there is both a road trip AND a sleepover! Plus, tomorrow is Thursday, a short day and the day the Coast comes out. If I could only best this stupid schedule, things would be all sunshine und lollipops.
And though it feels really short, word count tells me I’m over three hundred, so that’s all folks . . . if it’s sunny where you are, go soak some up. I’ll see all’a’y’all tomorrow.
Bus book: somethin’ called “Cast In Shadow” by Michelle Sagara
SOD: Do Ya Think I’m Sexy by the Revolting Cocks (as opposed to the version by Rod Stewart, who is just plain revolting)
Well I was working at the lab, late one night . . .
So maybe it’s the delightful spookiness in the air from all the Halloweeny goodness, but today was better. It could also be just because I don’t feel like I have a spike in the side of my head anymore. I am still feeling all kinds of topsy-turvy, but I’m pretty sure I know what that’s all about. I am at a metaphorical crossroads. I am on the cusp of . . . something (hopefully good). And that’s exciting uh-huh it is. But also scary. Now, I’m okay with a smidgen of scary, but what I worry about is discerning between the “whee! We’re expanding our personal horizons” good-kinda-scary, and the kind of scary that people in horror movies ignore (to their own peril EVERY DANG TIME, I might add) when they are all wanderin’ about the abandoned house/motel/abbatoir/souvenir shop.
No one likes being scared. Okay well, some folks like being pretend-scared. Freaks that they are. But most people are averse to actual fear/terror. We’ll do a lot of things to avoid being frightened in fact. Including not attempting something that might work out well. Now, I’m all for the healthy fear (you know, the voice that whispers “ummm, maybe we should wait for backup before we venture into that store where the clerk went ya-ya and killed all those folks with commemorative spoons…”). But sometimes your brain makes you think you’re on the verge of entering the haunted memorabilia outlet, when in fact you are just applying for a job. Or asking a cute boy out. Or thinking about opening a bakery. Or dusting off a novel you started back in the day.
So much like I advise y’all to look both ways before crossing the street, I also think we should give ourselves a little mental shake before we decide something is terrifying. Just in case it’s not as scary as it seems.
Unless it’s like, zombies or rabid wolves or some craziness. Then you should just run.
SOD: Oh it has GOT to be the Monster Mash by Bobby “Boris” Pickett
BOD: A Mathematician Plays the Stock Market by John Allen Paulos (it’s actually, officially the “handsome pedestrian tome o’ the day” as I found it, tucked under the arm of a stylish gentleman wearing a very enjoyable hat. I’m sure he had no idea what I was going on about when I declared it/him to be my “book of the day”. Perhaps I will turn up on his blog as “random harmless crazy person encounter of the day”)
Posted by Moonlight Lee at 3:43 PM 0 comments
Tuesday, October 30, 2007
Cue the melancholy music . . . maybe some Henry Mancini?
So, I had a post all written. Late, but almost 400 words, maybe not my best, definitley not my worst. But all of a sudden, I don't feel like putting it up. Can't skip two days in a row though, insists my tiny, internal taskmistress. So I am composing right on the press, so to speak. It shouldn't be too hard, I've not got much to say at the moment save these five pithy facts:
1) I have had a headache like a big spike in the side of my brain for about ...five hours now.
2)I realized today that I still miss the CookiePuss. Terribly. There's a huge, no-less-painful-for-its-sterotypicality hole where her warm little Abby-ness used to be.
3)Everywhere I look, it seems folk are pairing up. For some reason this irked me today.
4)It's cold and I am not INTO that.
5)Despite these things, I have so much more, than even I can imagine, to be grateful for.
That's all, y'all. Tune in tomorrow for our regularly scheduled jibber-jabber.
Friday, October 26, 2007
A Spooktaclular Mess . . .
Yeah yeah, I know it’s a pun up there in the title. It’s for my mom okay so shut it.
And anywayyyyys, it’s kinda descriptive of how things are for me right now. Even if I wasn’t mired in costume-makin’-related-fatigue, things would still be kinda messy. My flat is messy, my tired brain is messy, and my work life is mess-mess-mess-a-roonie-doonie. See, I have a job, and it’s pretty good. Pays the bills (well, almost), is located in a funky section of town that is one mere bus ride away from home (with numerous routes to choose from), I can wear what I want, they don’t bitch about the nose ring
(side rant: people, will you reconcile yourself to the nose piercing already? There are folks wanderin’ ‘round with horns in their ears and stuff inserted under their skin, I’ve seen grandmas with nose rings, not to mention all those women for whom that particular piercing is a normal part of their culture. It’s commonplace. It’s practically boring. Get over it already!)
Where was I? Oh yeah – work. Pretty good. Except that come January, the office is moving. To an industrial park – and not even the “good” industrial park that is fairly developed, with places to eat and a bus route or two that go directly there, no no. To the other one, out past the refinery, where the one bus that goes that way will drop me a good 15-30 minutes walk away from the office. It is a veritable wasteland and makes my so-into-the-downtown-I-practically-don’t-g
So I’m throwing this out to alllll my faithful readers – what do y’all think I should do? Stay with the job I have? Find something else similar? Strike out on my own? Start that bakery that my friend Glenn is always yammering at me about? Run away to the circus? Finish that romance novel I started? And should I feel guilty about not wanting to work in a place that gives me the psychological dry heaves???
I hope one of you knows, ‘cause I sure don’t. all I know right now is that it’s Friday, it’s almost five, and come sunset, I’m gonna be disguised as a Hamadryad. Don’t be surprised to find me perched in your oak tree. Huh. I wonder if I could get paid for that?
BOD: What Colour Is Your Parachute?
SOD: One Way Or the Other - Blondie
Thursday, October 25, 2007
SNAHU(?) Situation Normal, All Halifaxed Up!
Feeling quite a bit less crankers than I was yesterday, at least partly due to getting some more sleep (though whomever it was that called me at 10 pm last night and did not leave a message I just want to say to you, yeah, I’ll be returning your call some morning around four a.m, asshat). Being a screener, that’s one of my biggest peeves – people who call you but don’t leave messages. The only one who can do that and not incur my wrath is my friend M, and that’s only because she is fabulous in many, may other ways . . .
But today’s post isn’t going to be about my friend – fabulous she may be. This is another rant folks, one I have been delivering verbally, in multiple versions, for some time now.
This is about Halifax, and it’s city council (aka asshat central).
Right now everyone is talking about the cat bylaw. You know the cat bylaw? The one even members of council acknowledge is unenforceable and unaffordable? Idiocy, plain and simple – mainly because it is not even going to solve the problems that started the whole dialogue in the first place. My absolute favourite examples of city-council-bologna are from earlier in the year. The first one, still ongoing, is the pretty-much-universally-maligned Chebucto road-widening. I belong to the Facebook group “the Chebucto road-widening is an embarassment” and that about sums it up. Any one even remotely involved with city planning, urban design, or alternate forms of transportation will tell you – this kind of thinking is two or three decades behind the times. It’s short-sighted, and dumbass to boot. But then, what do you expect from the ad geniuses who, up until very recently (and this is my second favourite example) used the Grand Parade as a frickin’ parking lot?!
I’ve said it several other places, and now I’m saying it here. When the municipal elections roll around next October, I am seriously considering vying for a spot. Because it has become blatantly obvious to me that there is a profound lack of focus on the issues that are important, the problems that really impact the folks here in HRM. Ideas that will improve the quality of life for as many citizens as is possible, and upgrade our image in a meaningful way . . .
And those priorities do not involve a particular focus on cats OR the grand parade.
Though I’m not ruling out a parade o’ cats.
BOD: How to take over the world…beginning with city council (ok I made this one up too)
SOD: 76 Trombones, from the soundtrack of the Music Man
Wednesday, October 24, 2007
Behold the Sleepy Eyes of Death* . . .
Scathing is a good word. It suits my mood and the tenor of my thoughts today. I tried to go to bed early last night. It kinda worked, but I still was very opposed to the idea of getting up this morning. I really need to get some more sleep, if only to rule out exhaustion as the source of my crankosity.
Not to mention if there is to be any hope of Halloween fun, I need to get all rested up. But before I get rested up, methinks I need to get a little riled up. And keep in mind, I am eating a cookie right now, so imagine this wrath not tempered by baked deliciousness . . .
Okay folks, we need to talk. Those of you who do NOT have companion animals can feel free to ignore what follows. Anyone who shares their living space with a quadruped (or something with wings/fins) listen up: the next person who posts a message, starts a group, or spreads the word trying to get rid of their cat/dog is going to have a very angry me on their doorstep. It is really very simple: unless you are sure, as in certain, as in no doubt whatsoever, that you can look after an animal for the duration of it’s life, DON’T ADOPT ONE!!! Seriously, if you love them but don’t have a lifestyle that can jive with being a responsible caretaker you can do lots of other things – donate money, volunteer at a shelter, help to look after your neighbour’s crazy shepherd mix or your best friend’s maine coon. But for the love of St. Francis of Assisi, DO NOT go out and impose yourself on some relatively defenseless creature. Not just for the animal’s sake, but for your own. Because seriously seriously seriously, if I read one more “oh I’m moving and I can’t take Mr. FluffyWhiskers with me”, I will come after you.
I drove, in a moving truck from Ontario to Nova Scotia with two cats and two fish, and one of the felines yowled basically the whole way. I have friend who lives in an apartment that won’t allow pets – so he pays RENT for his cat to live with his old roommate! Odd? Perhaps. But better to be odd than some selfish jerk who adopts a cat or dog or llama and then tries to get rid of them like an old sofa or a sweater that doesn’t fit anymore…
I understand that sometimes life goes so very wrong that we are forced to make a choice when all the options suck. But I think the percentage of situations where this applies is very very very small . . . much like the hearts and minds of those who would bring a creature into their world, only to toss them out again.
It just occurred to me that I could have mentioned something here about the newly-voted-in-cat-bylaw . . . perhaps I’ll yammer on about that tomorrow. Yes.
KarmicDe sez: “May your treatment of animals be repaid in kind.”
BOD: Animal Liberation by Peter Singer
SOD: Bitch by the Rolling Stones
*http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sleepy_Ey
Tuesday, October 23, 2007
Bits & Bobs & Nonsensical Ramblings…
Weird, slo-mo thoughts are rolling around in my head like so many cat-fur-dust-bunnies in the breeze. Add to that a big fat helping of super-sleep-deprived-crankiness (and an apparent obsession with hyphens) and what results is bizarre, even by my standards.
Also, my leg hurts. So I guess this is my whinge-y post for the week?
My original intention was to write about NaNoWriMo (national novel writing month, which would be November).
You know how sometimes you’re walking, and you know the exact route you’re taking, exactly where you’re going and straight there you’re going, without hesitation or confusion? And then there are the times when you wander, backtrack, look around like maybe there is guidance waiting for you on the walls/billboards/passersby? That’s the day/moment I’m having, all indecision and furtive peeks hoping for counsel and trying not to head-bob at my desk. Oh I’m feeling exhausted and overwhelmed, though the good news is I think the feelings of too much whelm are directly related to the lack of rest. Get more sleep, dwell in the land of underwhelmed for a while.
I miss being on vacation. I miss hanging with my folks and their nice house that’s all warm and has a dishwasher and a dog. Of course it is lacking in several fundamental home comforts – primarily my ocean/harbour views and fluffy beloved cats. But the company, food and cultural amenities are all excellent . . .
Land sakes alive Belle Ruth I need to get some sleep. Don’t nobody call me tonight, if all goes as planned, I’m going to bed with the sun.
SOD: anyone for tennis by Cream
BOD: Big Bus Booty Call: My Love Affair With Public Transportation – oops, I’m inventing titles again. But would it not be hilarious to see someone reading that?
Monday, October 22, 2007
More Than Meets the Eye...
I’m back (and fighting the urge to rhyme). Had a week off work, most of which I spent in Ontario with my parents. Like it usually goes down with me, I didn’t do everything/see everyone I wanted to. My failure to spend some time on the escarpment/Bruce trail is particularly frustrating in retrospect. But I said all along that the main reason I was visiting was to hang with my Grandma and Grandpa, my parental units, and their furry menagerie. And I did. Not to mention shopping/eating up a storm (the shoes! The stew!) and watching Transformers (fun & ‘splode-y!) and less than 15 minutes of 28 Days Later (or whatever it’s called, it’s real name is ewwwwwwww!)
But it wasn’t all foodstuffs and finery. I feel like the trip clarified a lot of things in my head, maybe for the simple reason that I talked a lot while I was there, about my life, my past and my future. I returned with a better idea of what I want out of life, a renewed commitment to writing (and somewhat ironically) to refrain from becoming romantically involved with anyone for the near future. I’m simply not ready, and I believe/know that my energy is better used elsewhere.
Things about Ontario/Niagara I failed to appreciate until I got back . . .
I thought this was going to be a big list, but the one thing I can think of right now is my drive past the Horseshoe falls on Friday night. I lived within walking distance of them for the first two decades of my life (give or take a birthday) and yet when I saw them a few days ago I was kinda in awe. I think when we grow up next door to something magnificent, we can lose our appreciation for it. I’m too tired to excavate it, but there is definitely a life-lesson in there somewhere.
And it was beyond nice to spend time with my mom and dad, and especially my grandparents. We took my grandpa Pat out for fish and chips on Friday (to the dining institution that is Betty’s). It all just felt like a gift, y’know?
Things about NS I had forgotten/failed to appreciate until I got back …
It smells a lot better here. The air has less bad stuff in it I think. And the Thumpersteins were WAY fluffier than I remembered.
Funniest part of the whole trip (for me): when I was on my way to Ontario, I said I was going home. And when I was returning east, I did the same.
Bus book – I didn’t catch the title but it looked like a romance novel. Appropriate, since I am thinking about finishing the one I started a few years ago as part of NaNoWriMo.
SOD – Homeward Bound – Simon and Garfunkel
Monday, October 15, 2007
Oland is the beer. O-Land is a whole ‘nother province . . .
So this is gonna be a quick and dirty one folks. YES, even more than it usually is and NO, it has nothing to do with the fact that my moms wants to go shoppin’. I swear.
Despite some major anxietations on my part, the plan ride was basically without incident and I got into town (said town being St. Catherines, natch) early last evening. This morning I had the chance to hang with my one and only cousin before he headed back to Ottawa . . .
And so far, if I had to sum things up in one word I have no doubt which one I would choose: surreal. Surreal not to be able to see the ocean/harbour when I wake up in the morning. Not to smell that ocean-y smell. Today, all I could smell was sidewalks barely damp with rain. This is my first visit back in 3 years, and only the third time I’ve been here since I moved east 6 years ago. I keep forgetting where I am, and then I see something I last saw when I was in high school, and it brings me back – but not to any kind of normalcy, but to a weird netherworld where I’m not sure where or when I am.
I need to think (and mayhap write) more about what is going on in my head, need to find the words to paint an alphabet-picture of my sojourn through time and space. Stay tuned folks, this conversation is to be continued.
SOD: We Are Family – Sister Sledge (? Not sure & I know I could look it up but hey, sweaters are calling my name)
BOD: I have been blessedly free from bus rides in the last 24 hours, so the Bus Book o’ the Day will become the Parental Book o’ the Day: A Thousand Splendid Suns - Khaled Hosseini
Friday, October 12, 2007
Blog post for Friday: wow, what a title...
La goutte d'eau qui fait déborder le vase, (French)
Der Tropfen, der das Fass zum Überlaufen bringt, (German)
De druppel die de emmer doet overlopen, (Dutch)
La gota que derramó el vaso, (Spanish)
La goccia che fa traboccare il vaso, (Italian)
Pictura care a umplut paharul, (Romanian)
Droppen som fick bägaren att rinna över, (Swedish)
Bardaı taıran son damla (Turkish)
Whatever language I write it in, it all means the same thing . . .
I have had it.
I have tried and tried and tried, but I can only struggle so long before I am a big weepy mess (which I am at this very moment on the verge of becoming). I have had it – and worst of all I can’t even vent properly about the nature of my being-done-having-it because not only am very possibly legally insane at this point (and thus not thinking/writing clearly), but if I do say anything specific it’ll just create more DRAMA!!! So what is a girl to do at a het-up time like this?..
Oh wait I know – let Ani do the talking/singing:
“Well, you know they come to clear-cut/they come to strip-mine, they come for some of my big butt my big brain or just a little time/they wanna take me home for dinner/think I’m a bitch if I don’t go/seems like the people who actually like me don’t allow me to say no/
your idea of a conversation, is the third degree/
you know I don’t really know you, and I don’t really want to talk about me…” (Pick Yer Nose by Miz Ani Difranco)
So I could continue on in the same rant-y vein (I know it so well and it goes on for miles, yo) or I could take a breath, push aside the fact that I am going to get soaked when I leve the office, and just. Plain. Reckanize.
Now, I hear y’all asking – “Reckanize what, my silly slang-talkin’ friend?”
Well, there are some facts that need to be acknowledged that go beyond my current state of fed-upped-ness. Like the fact that though I will probably get a little damp when I leave here, it will be to go to my favourite activity o’ the week, African dance class. Not to mention that I will be using my very own healthy and completely mobile body to perform said dance. Or howsabout the fact that it is probably evident to my readers that I could use a bit of a break, which I am in fact getting when I go to O-land this weekend?
Yeah. Like my peep Gandhi said (and I am SO paraphrasing here, not to mention very possibly attributing something to him that he never said) “I was wicked bummed that I had no shoes, until I met a dude without any feet”
It’s all about perspective, isn’t it kittens?
Next time you read me, I’ll be in a place where the pavement threatens to smother the people . . . and eating my weight in Mom’s cookin’. . .
BOD: How To Avoid Kicking All the Idiots In Your Life Right In the Ol’ Slats
(oh wait, maybe that’s a title I invented right now . . . )
SOD: Vacation – The Go Gos
Posted by Moonlight Lee at 3:58 PM
Thursday, October 11, 2007
Free, free, set them free . . .
Housekeeping?
If my blog were a baseball team, this post would be batting cleanup. Over the last couple days I have mentioned several things briefly, and promised to explain/expand/elaborate upon them.
I should preface this whole shebang with a bit of background information – I am having, as a colleague of mine says, “a day”. I’m super-tired ‘cause I stayed up waaayyy past my bedtime last night, I’m freaking out to a moderate degree about missing a week of work due to impending travel, and I am experiencing some drama in the ol’ human-relationships department. So, everything’s pretty much SNAFU, wha?
So, first there was the bakery/bistro. The name of which of course completely escapes me now. I remember the old-fashioned aprons all over the walls. I remember the waitress commiserating with me over my state of tea-related-withdrawal, and how she gregariously offered to make me a big pot with two orange pekoe tea bags, my usual Irish/Scottish/English breakfast not being available. I remember that at one point the kitchen staff started singing “you are my sunshine” to no one in particular, and how even the “half-regular” breakfast was exceedingly yummy, and featured big pieces of homemade-bread-toast and jam that was exactly what preserves imitating apple-pie-filling should taste like.
Ohhhhhh time has gotten away from me again and so I will try to be quick with this one:
Runyararo Zimbabwe Children’s Charity – www.runyararozimbabwecharity.org
This is the organization of the lovely woman I met on Saturday. I bought a great, dramatic, affordable ($12) necklace from her. She also sells Cds, and various knitted enjoyables. The money she makes goes to sending kids to school (something most of us here in Canada take for granted methinks). She can be found at the farmer’s market as well, so go check her out – the jewelry is pretty-pretty and you can totally justify it . . .
Ooops, almost forgot about the Dartmouth Pumpkins! That’s the name that my Saturday-night-ride home came up with as we were getting trash-talked for leaving the party “early” (it was about one a.m.) I think it’s a good name and perhaps something us D-town peeps can rally around (I am strongly considering jerseys and/or tee shirts) when folk from other parts of the HRM are dissing us . . .
BOD: wella wella my fellow mass transportationists must be reading HYW (yeah, that’s it right) and heeded my plea to raise the bar, literature-wise, ‘cause today there was a woman reading a nice new paperback copy of Catcher In the Rye – by the one and only J.D Salinger . . . kudos to you, random bus girl!
SOD: If You Love Someone Set Them Free by Sting (the most familiar of the lyrics – if you love someone set them free, if they come back to you bla bla bla- also attributed as a quote to the author Richard Bach)
Posted by Moonlight Lee at 3:49 PM
Wednesday, October 10, 2007
Hoping for Hannah, part le deux
In case the title didn't give it away, this is the second part of a long post. Go read the first one (from yesterday) it'll help you make sense of it all . . .
My ride home was a fellow Dartmouth Pumpkin (and yes, I will explain that in another post too!). We packed up and began to head out just as the cops showed up (it was past midnight and the joint had been so jumping, I was not at all surprised to see those boys in blue). Once outside we said our farewells to the other li’l drummer boys, then my ride/Pumpkin friend realized we had forgotten a drum (!) and went back to fetch it. I stayed outside to drink in the beauty of the late autumn night. I had noticed that there was a couple fighting across the street, and I kept a small part of my conscious attention on them, but mostly I just wandered up and down the sidewalk, eventually making my way back to the house-party-house just as my traveling companion was coming out the door. Suddenly a woman appeared out of the streetlight haze – one of the people who had been arguing over yonder.
I could tell right away she was upset. But, may God forgive me for this, I suppressed my first instinct (to help ) because I feared she might be a threat to me (those of you who live in the HRM and also not under a rock will perhaps understand my hesitancy – there’s been A LOT of violence goin’ ‘round lately). She kept saying she needed a cab- interspersing it with some garbled stuff about her boyfriend taking all her things, and how she needed to get home before he did. At first I thought she wanted money, so I explained as to how I didn’t have any. Turned out she just needed someone to call a cab for her. So I did, kinda hating myself for all the assumptions I had made, for the lack of trust. And then, it being Saturday night, we waited a while. She was really upset, and kept apologizing, and I kept telling her she didn’t have any reason to apologize. My friend asked if there was anyone we could call for her, a friend that she could meet at home. She said there wasn’t anyone. Even if she hadn’t talked about how embarrassed she was, how stupid she felt, I would have sensed it. Eventually the taxi arrived and she got in. Off it went, and then it was like she was never there.
But she was.
That’s the last I saw of her. But she’s taken up residence in my head ever since. And despite thinking about the situation for several days now, I’m still not sure what I want to write. Some things I know: that the thoughts come easier when I imagine I am speaking directly to her . . . Hannah, I am so worried about you. We don’t know each other at all, except for those minutes after midnight, minutes that could have been hours or days for the impression they left upon me. But like I might have said to you at one point, I know what it’s like to be scared, to feel alone and without any options that feel viable or remotely okay, to feel that in order to obtain a semblance of safety, you must embarrass yourself. I hope I was able to help you. I am sorry I wasn’t brave enough to insist on coming with you, to make sure you would be okay that night. I'm sorry I didn't try harder, do more. I know I kept telling you to stay away from that guy, to call the cops if he came, to get your locks changed a.s.a.p, beautiful sister. I hope you listened to me. I wish I had said it more. I wish I had said more, period. I wish I lived in a world where people felt safe – to give and receive help, to love each other, to reach out, to simply BE.
I wish there was something I could do besides write this post.
I think I’m gonna try and figure out what that might be.
BOD: Hunting Fear by Kay Hooper, and perhaps even more appropriate (though the website has a li’l craziness): Healing Fear by Edmund Bourne
SOD: Small World by Ani Difranco
Posted by Moonlight Lee at 3:44 PM
Tuesday, October 9, 2007
Hoping for Hannah . . . or How I Spent My Thanksgiving Vacay: part one
So, remember my assignment? No? (Good thing it wasn’t YOUR assignment, eh kiddos?) Does writing eleventy-seven hundred words on my adopted quasi-homeland ring a bell? My plan was to start that today. Then the weekend happened, including something I haven’t been able to stop thinking about. And I realized that I was still going to write about my literal and figurative neighbourhoods. The only difference was the subject was to be someone I had never thought of writing about – ‘cause I didn’t know she existed before Saturday night.
Make yourself at home folks. This is gonna be a long’un. (even in two parts)
Saturday was a pretty stellar and unusual day from the start. I got picked up (oh I gets as excited as a puppy about a car ride these days!) and had a drive down to Canning & area. Ate a late breakfast at a lovely little café and bakery, a place so crammed with charm and homebaked goods that it is a post all unto itself. Then I got to watch some amazing African drumming, and buy a necklace from an equally amazing woman who uses all the profits to send kids in Africa to school (she is hoping to make it possible for 100 children this year! Stay tuned and I’ll post about her too). More sunny-day driving and we found ourselves on a beach, surrounded by red-rock-cliffs with faces like kind, long-lost ancestors. The tide was literally running out, moving several feet every second. We watched the hermit crabs body-surfing the clear baby rivers through the sand.
My good friend was suffering a serious case of Thanksgiving-supper-preparation-related sleep deprivation & her partner assured her that the perfect cure was to disrobe, smear sandy mud all over, let it dry in the sun and then swim in the ocean to rinse all her sleepiheadedness away. She gave it a try, transforming into the Mud Goddess of Blomidon, and had you seen her, you would not have even realized she was naked (though the fashionistas among you might have wondered why she chose a wetsuit/unitard in such a muddy brown shade). Whatever the sartorial statement she was making, it did the trick, and she emerged from the ocean refreshed, glowing, beautifull-er than usual. We drove back to Hal-town, stopping long enough to acquire apples, pies, cider.
A few hours at home and then I was out again (my intended weekend o’ solitude in happy tatters), to the same friends’ Thanksgiving day feast. True to its name, it was a delicious, a combination of the old (turkey, cranberry sauce & pumpkin pie) and new (sweet potato french fries & several handsome percussionists for company). Despite feeling the effects of tryptophan and too much whipped cream, I was persuaded to follow a few of the drum guys to a so-called “Libra” party. In true Halifax style, I knew at least four or five people there, including one I had randomly encountered at the last One World Café show. There was Motown playing when we walked in, but soon enough the drums came out and the dancing became downright rhythmic, someones’ North-end front room transformed into a shimmer of gyrating bodies, and hands connecting joyfully with instruments.
That's part one. Part two kinda takes a darker turn. But if we all hold hands, we'll have the comfort of each others presence through the scary bits.
SOD: Ooh Child - The Wondermints
BOD: I didn't see much on the bus. But I think I might spend November penning a tome titled "How To Be Nicer To Each Other and the Planet", and then figure out a way to drop them from the sky . . . or get 'em out some other way.
Posted by Moonlight Lee at 7:42 PM
Friday, October 5, 2007
Not a good weekend to be a turkey. Or a tofurkey, for that matter . . .
So, do I ever start posting at a decent time? Why is it always half-past four when I am finally compelled to start writing? Well, to answer my own questions, there are often too many things to be done, and too many idiots milling about, for me to even consider composing in the a.m or even early afternoon.
I guess I’m sorta disgruntled today. Yesterday I got to spend some time outside, which didn’t really happen for me today. As I am writing this, I can see outside to where the sun is golden and enticing, and happy dogs are continuously strolling past my door. I am happy for the canines, and their humans. Just wish I were out there with ‘em. Everyone else left the office hours ago. And there is always the temptation to leave early – but I’ve never done it. Oh sure, once or twice I left at five to five. But most of the time it’s at least five after by the time I lock up, so that balances out. Because you know that the one day I decide to throw caution to the wind and leave at four-thirty, that’ll be the day that my boss decides to come back to the office. The boss gets all thunder-cloud-lookin’ when pissed, it is scary even if you aren’t the one who messed up, and when it is directed at you . . . oh boy. Not a good scene.
You know what is a good scene though? Puppies. Or kittens. Really, baby animals of any kind – as long as it isn’t angry at you.
Reading through this post, one might get the impression that I am drunk. ‘tis simply untrue. I have a desk, and that desk has a drawer, but there is not bottle of bourbon or any such thing. These are the perfectly sober ramblings of a girl at the end of a long week.
Good thing I’m at the beginning of a long weekend.
Now isn’t that a thought to warm the cockles of your heart?
Sending y’all happy Thanksgiving thoughts and the hope that wherever you might be, you have the chance to spend time with those you love and are grateful for that and so much more…
SOD – Carey by Joni Mitchell (the wind is in from Africa . . . )
BOD – Windows! (Or How To Not Suffocate On a Bus) – okay, I’ll admit it, I made this up. But I am seriously considering writing the dang thing and handing copies out to everyone who seems to be labouring under the misconception that bus windows don’t open!
Posted by Moonlight Lee at 3:28 PM 0 comments
Thursday, October 4, 2007
First thing I remember I was lying in my bed/couldn’t’ve been no more than one or two. . .
I think this might be one of my later posts in the history of posting. . . and consequently it will probably also be one of my more deranged/garbled creations. Oh boy.
Today was a beautiful day, then sun so tangy and poignant that it was almost painful to be inside. There are certainly warmer and sunnier days to be found in the summer, but like sweet goes so much better with salt, the knowledge that the time of these warm days is once again waning brings a level of appreciation that is harder to feel in the heat of August.
‘Cause (& hopefully I’m not bursting anyones’ autumnal bubble) winter is coming. I know, I know, I’ve been trying to deny it, but hangin’ out down Egypt way is not going to keep the snow from flying when Mother Nature decides it’s time.
But for the very near future (this weekend) the meteorological prognosticators are callin’ for blue skies and a big cartoon sun. it may even be nice enough that I am motivated to prune the native-plant jungle that was once my front, side and back yards. At this point it might make more sense to leave it all – seeds for the various creatures to eat, and perhaps all that plant matter will serve as an additional layer of insulation . . . (and yes, I am aware that I’m reaching and y’know what? The stretch feels good). Huh. I’ve never ended a post with a parenthetical phrase before. (no time like the present).
SOD: Late In the Evening – Paul Simon
BOD: Yertle the Turtle
Posted by Moonlight Lee at 8:25 PM
Wednesday, October 3, 2007
Uh huh, uh huh, uh huh uh huh uh huh . . . .
Ooh I’m back and I’m in the mood for bloggin folks! Figured out how to get in to my blog site once again, so head there first if you wants to read the post while it’s still fresh off my fingers and outta my pan.
Oh I was all excited/motivated there and then I hit a sleepy pocket. I had planned to compose a post about my neighbourhood, thus beginning the “Vignettes O’ De’s Life” series that I was going on about yesterday, but I don’t know if I have enough brain cells awake to attempt it. And what I am thinking about now isn’t life, so much, but work.
I need to find a new job. One that doesn’t go against (most) everything that I am. Don’t get me wrong, it’s an interesting job a lot of the time. The company does kinda weird and unique stuff, the people I work with/for are not, (in general) evil taskmasters. But from the moment I begin my day until I flee towards the bus stop, it’s constant interaction – people coming in, people wanting to talk to me, the phone’s ringing and I gotta answer it… Those of you who know me at all will recognize several problems immediately – ‘cause I don’t even like to answer my own phone a lot of the time (call me the Queen of Screen, everyone else does). And while I am fascinated by humans and all their idiosyncratic foibles and such, I am, by nature, an introverted gal, and it just takes too much energy to do what I do. I feel like a cat, and my fur is constantly getting rubbed the wrong way.
That’s my new priority, and my official Thanksgiving resolution: (oh, you didn’t know we have those?) to figure out exactly what kinds of work will leave me somewhat excited/energized (or just not utterly drained & cranky) and then go find those jobs. Or create them.
What I really want to know though, is, can I find someone to pay me (well) for reading, lolling about in bed, and writing this dang blog? Now there’s a livelihood that truly lives up to its name . . .
SOD: Dream a Little Dream – the Ella and Louis version
BOD: no bus this mornin’ so . . . go get yourself the latest copy of Utne Reader. It’s eleventy-seven magazines all in one easy to read periodical. Mmmmmm, alternative news sources . . . it just occurred to me that BOD could also stand for “Blessings of the Day” in which case it would have to be everyone in Burma that isn’t pointing a gun (and maybe some that are???), and my good friend Joyce – I’m thinking about you girl. Thanks for trusting me . . .
Posted by Moonlight Lee at 3:26 PM
Monday, September 24, 2007
Vroom vroom . . . .
Other potential titles for today include "Pedal to the metal" and "Unsafe at any speed". Hmmm, use automotive metaphors muchly?
So what am I going on about this time?
Timing bay-bee. I'm all about the timing of things today/this weekend.
*interruption for pesky, work-related phone call*
apparently composing a blog post, typing said post, holding the phone with my chin, and paying pseudo-attention to the person on the other end is a little too much for me.
I'm going to have to finish this at home, methinks.
Home now, and yeah, the automotive metaphor is apt (apt I tell you!) because what do I do, despite the knowledge that it wreaks havoc with the mileage?
Gas.
Break.
Gas. Break.
Gas. Break.
Gas break gas break gas break gas breakgasbreakgasbreakgasbreakgasbreakgas
Either I’m careening into the turns and crashing into guardrails…or I’m halfaway on the shoulder, getting passed by, getting honked at.
The middle way, middle of the road, middle ground. Uh huh. Can’t say I’m super-duper at balancing my way into any of those places. Not when it comes to my life anyway.
I’m all or nothing. Black or white. Here or there. Near or far. And don’t get me wrong, there is a certain satisfaction in being extreme, whichever end of the continuum I’m currently idling at. When you’re at the edge, the lines look clear and crisp, and it seems easier to discern which side to be on.
But life isn’t really about sides. Not the good kind of life. And relationships don’t tend to thrive in an environment of either-ors. I know, in my brain, that a happy medium is leads to just that - - - happiness. Whereas all that scootin’and stoppin’will leave me with nothin’but an empty tank.
I’m so far into this analogy; I don’t think I can find my way out again.
My sense of direction has never been the best.
SOD: Born to Be Wild, of course
BOD: I never saw it, but wouldn’t “Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance” have been perfect?
Posted by Moonlight Lee at 6:58 PM
Friday, September 21, 2007
Humble as a bumblebee.
Okay, it’s 4:43 kids. Down to the wire I am today. Actually, just used the facilities so now it’s 4:46. I am not even sure what I am going to write about. Maybe about how tired I am, thought it’s my own dang fault for being tempted by the fun and the enticing and staying up later than I should. Maybe I could write about the dance class I am going to tonight. It’s African dance, it’s my second week, and if the dance class were a boy, I’d be crushin’ on him hard and writing his name all over my Hilroy. Despite my fatigue, I’m going because I know I’ll be smiling for days afterward. And tomorrow morning, I’m sleeping in!
I could write about projection – the psychological kind not the movie theatre version. It’s been in my head a lot this week. I’ve come to realize that nine times out of ten, my annoyance/anger at someone else is more about me and what I am putting on that person, and less about whatever obnoxiousness they happen to be spewing (and lately I seem to be surrounded by spewers). It isn’t that people don’t behave badly, but it is almost impossible a lot of the time to separate someone’s bad behaviour from your own perspective and feelings and how those might be affecting your reactions to their idiocy/snottery/whatevery.
I could write about how good the sunshine feels, and the equinox, which is today, full of power and significance, in my humble-bumble-li’l-pagan-girl-opinion. So if you're able, dance under the moon or something tonight . . .
Blessed be, yo.
SOD: You’re So Sober – The Trews/Half Moon – Janis Joplin
Phrase o’ the Day (POD) “Audible smiles” You know when you’re happy, and you make a little noise? That’s an audible smile. Don’t’cha love it? I know ya doooooooo . . .
Posted by Moonlight Lee at 4:01 PM
Wednesday, September 19, 2007
Avast ye scurvy curs and landlubbers!
Okay, it is a well-known fact that I am good, but I don’t think even I am good enough to compose an entire blog post in Pirate talk, even if it is International Talk Like a Pirate Day. Even if I do know an excellent candidate for walking the plank.
Allow me if you will some latitude for the moment to veer off into a short, work and excel related rant: do you know what sucks? Bosses who make requests of you having no idea what kind of work their request actually entails. And what sucks slightly more is having to use an old excel file to create something new when the old is full of sneaky little macros or micros or frickin’ midcros that make the text go diagonally and all that crazy bang-shang-a-lang.
I can’t stand not knowing things. I love to learn but I don’t do so well with ignorance. And it is SO frustrating to know that it is probably some simple little solution, but only if you already know how to solve the problem.
I am having one of those afternoons where it feels like someone put drugs in my chicken schwarma or vodka in my iced tea. I think it’s just fatigue though. Despite being well behaved and going to bed at a reasonable hour last night, I am still tired. Though my throats not sore like it was yesterday, and that’s a positive sign.
Boy oh boy am I ever looking forward to this weekend. Mostly ‘cause it will mean the week is over, also because I have several wonderful things planned: my newest addiction, African dance on Friday, one of my favourites bands the Wassabi Collective on Saturday, and somewhere in there is both a road trip AND a sleepover! Plus, tomorrow is Thursday, a short day and the day the Coast comes out. If I could only best this stupid schedule, things would be all sunshine und lollipops.
And though it feels really short, word count tells me I’m over three hundred, so that’s all folks . . . if it’s sunny where you are, go soak some up. I’ll see all’a’y’all tomorrow.
Bus book: somethin’ called “Cast In Shadow” by Michelle Sagara
SOD: Do Ya Think I’m Sexy by the Revolting Cocks (as opposed to the version by Rod Stewart, who is just plain revolting)
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