Just got the official word from my doctor…the lump is a very deep in-grown hair.
Gross.
But yea!
Channeling Mary Catherine Gallagher September 25, 2007
To sum up how I feel tonight, I’d like to share a scene from the 1993 hit movie, “A Thing Called Love,” in which Samantha Mathis portrays Miranda, a woman who knows a thing or two about struggle and triumph.
Top Ten List (In No Particular Order) of Fantasy Travel September 24, 2007
Travel to Argentena. This is number one on my “Top Ten List of Travel Fantasies.” I don’t know why I am so fascinated with this country, and it has nothing to do with Andrew Weber’s “Evita” (although both Madonna and Sinead O’Conner have done beautiful renditions of “Don’t Cry For Me Argentina.”) I think what appeals to me most is the blending of cultures, the rich history and promise of the-best-steak-you’ll-ever-eat and its variety of wonderful wines. Argentina seems to me to be the last frontier…a mix of what America was in its Pioneer Hayday, Central/South American Culture and European infusion. I imagine my Argentina to be much like my impression of New Mexico, with its brilliant landscape and sunsets, richly diverse population and intelligista presence.
In no particular order, here is the rest of my list:
France (Paris, Provence, Champagne)
Prague
Quebec
London
Jalisco, Mexico
Napa Valley
Hawaii
Spain
Italy
Coincidence… or Synchronicity? Maybe. July 27, 2007
The difference between the right word and the wrong word is like the difference between lightening and lightening bug. ~ Mark Twain.
Semantics. It’s not how you say it. It is what you say. Make every word count. I don’t like to use the word maybe. The word “maybe” bugs me because it is flaky. A wishy-washy and indecisive word, and I just don’t have time for that kind of energy in my life.
It’s 1:00 in the morning and I am lying awake in bed, my mind racing. It’s hot and sticky and my air conditioner is broken…STILL! I step outside on the back patio and look up at the sky. The stars are vivid and the moon is so close. The big dipper is framed by the neighbors trees. I wish I could stay up to see the Dog Star, Sirius, rising this morning. That’s when it occurs to me, we have entered the Dog Days of Summer. How could I have forgotten such an important event?
I had to quickly google any hommage paid to one of my heroes, Robert Anton Wilson, the man who taught me about Sirius. RAW passed away earlier this year, but since July 23 was a very significant day in his life/ writing, I was sure there’d be some kind of celebration in his honor somewhere. As I searched, I stumbled across a website called http://www.maybelogic.com/. This site, I learned, is also the name of the new feature length documentary about RAW.
Even in his death, he imparts wisdom. Maybe Logic. Hu. How perfect.
The man himself was flaky and nebulous and fabulous and never subscribed to one “reality”, ever. He was a life long learner, experiencing things firsthand in an effort to get the best education. He was a Buddhist, Taoist, Catholic, Wiccan, Discordian, and Mason. He was a conspiracy theorist, writer, quantum physicist, hippy, pot-brownie-eating reporter with post-polio disease who, in his later life, was confined to a wheel chair and he never let it get him down.
He wrote about perception and what we think is real and how not to take life too seriously. He never took sides, always presented both sides, telling his audience, “you decide”. He inspired me to jump out of my own reality tunnel and take a look around with different eyes. He talked about humanity and interplanetary communication. He never judged, never told anyone how to live, never doubted anyone’s experiences. Just reported his experiences and provided great examples of a life well-lived. RAW was successful on many levels, has known monetary riches and has lived in poverty. He loved hugely: his wife Arlen, his family, his friends and fans.
So, this morning, I am writing all of this and I am rethinking my disdain for the word “maybe.” Jack Johnson says “maybe pretty much always means no.” In true RAW-inspired fashion, I confess: maybe could also mean yes.
But seriously, you decide.
The Last Day Of Our Trip July 2, 2007
6/29/07
OMFG! I am so frustrated right now! I have not had phone service for hundreds of miles-nearly 3/4 of this trip!–and all I want to do is text Barry “xxx ooo”, just to let him know I am thinking about him. God, I miss him. I am actually sick over this, that I can’t see him. I am effin’ crazy. I have known him for less than two months and I feel like the penguins in the love scenes on Happy Feet! I am nucking futs over this guy! Crazy, hu?
Not only does my phone not work, but I have not been able to blow dry my hair in a week, I have run out of clean undies and have gone commando for the last three days and my legs and feet are dry and chapped. I need to pluck my eyebrows, I have blisters on the tops of my feet from the shoes I brought along for the party, and I have run out of regenerist serum for my face, so my pores are ginormous and my skin itches. I have been putting hand lotion in my hair because it is the only thing I have that keeps the frizzies somewhat at bay, and I just hope to god that we do get home tonight because I have no more clean pants to wear after today!
I heard from Chelsea last night that my yard has not been mowed this entire two weeks, so I am sure I have some kind of fine from the neighborhood association. Yikes!
Oh, and I completely forgot about my car. The back seat is flipped down and won’t go back up because the tension in the seat belt is stuck. Great. So, we’ll get home and I will have to drive the kids home in the night with no seat belts or no seat to actually sit in.
And mostly, I just really fucking miss Barry.
