Thursday, July 31, 2008
weather in reno:
i am a cold weather person. i enjoy summer. i enjoy being warm. i like to feel a warm breeze against my skin. this "warm" i am talking about maxes out at about 75. then i become cranky and uncomfortable*. but i am a cold weather person. this means i feel most comfortable in a hoodie, and under a down comforter with a cup of cocoa.
*unless i am in hawaii because tropical hawaii heat is in it's own magical category
so....90's....i will turn an obnoxious shade of red. i will look like i might vomit. someone will probably, at some point, ask me if i am ok and if i need to sit down.
here is my mom and a butterfly. can you see it? it is flying. (quite the action shot)
i went to the pacific science center yesterday and was reminded that i don't like to be around strange children. and i was also reminded that people are stupid. i know i sound like an asshole right now.
example: when entering the butterfly exhibit you are told a few rules. these rules are also on a couple signs at the entrance of the exhibit. the big rule is "do not touch the butterflies". this seems pretty simple to me....but upon entering the exhibit, stupid children of stupid parents pick up butterflies by their fragile wings and toss them in the air like they are confetti. stupid parents do nothing but watch and/or encourage.
what is wrong with people?
Monday, July 28, 2008
first of all, i got a new camera...so expect more photos. i mean A LOT of photos.
missoula. it was hot. they have a fantastic farmers market. they also have a craft market with homemade jewelry and soap and pottery....and bongs. and there was a guy selling animal pelts and skulls.
i have pictures of all of this and will post them to my flickr soon.
this is what graffiti looks like in missoula.
courtney was one of the first people i met in college. her dorm room was right next to mine. i thought she was someones younger sister because she looked about 12. and she thought i was a total bitch because the first thing i said to her was "is that a hickey on your neck"? (i have always had a problem with being subtle). we were quick friends and caused trouble all over missoula. we got kicked out of frat houses and bars. anyway, she is by far the coolest girl i know. she kills deer. she can fix anything. she used to be a park ranger and would ride a horse into the wilderness and camp for weeks. and she is funny. she can out drink anyone. and she is pretty. honest. she stayed with me after riley was born for 3 weeks and i did not want her to leave. she makes the best lasagna.
now she is married.
i had fun taking some pictures of their wedding to prepare for this weekend where i will be a wedding photographer for sam and shelly. yay! oh, and i did her makeup!
for more of courtney and mark's wedding photos go here.
Thursday, July 24, 2008
Tuesday, July 22, 2008
there were no tacky magnets with quotes. there were no grocery lists, recipes, school photos, postcards, or reminders of upcoming events. those were all kept on my mom's desk.
i am one of those weirdos that will go to people's houses and stare at their refrigerator. i feel like you look into the heart of a home by looking at what is on the fridge. i love my friend caroline's fridge. she has all these homemade magnets of naked women. some of them have outfits that you can mix and match. she has these little bendy monkeys with magnets on the paws. she has beautiful postcards and pictures of her from another time...with short spiky hair and black eyeliner. and amanda has a beautiful black and white picture of her daughter as a tiny little bundle. when her smile took over her entire face and her arms looked like donuts.
i love our fridge. i love the rotating artwork by riley. eggpeople. robots. snowmen. our family. pictures from trips. random magnets. tons of polaroids.
i love how it has become a messy collage of our life.
i wonder what our fridge says about us.
Monday, July 21, 2008
i have no picture for this. it doesn't deserve one.
i really REALLY don't like to see animals in human clothing. The worst possible example of this is a baby chimp in overalls. The mental image of this alone makes me want to scream. I also don't like it when people dress up their dogs in little doggie outfits. it gives me serious heebiejeebis. i admit that this is one of the most clever of examples, but it still bothers my soul:
dust bunnies. what are they and where do they come from. really. and why do they have a cute name...when they are so disgusting. i would prefer a real bunny under my chair. like this one:
my left blinker stopped working. so did my cd player. and i need new brakes. and new tabs. i dislike my car. i want to sell it and get a smart car. or a bicycle.
there is some type of aggressive weed taking over the yard. it has spikes. thick, sharp thorns. and i think the tips are laced with poison. and it has roots to china. it's leaves look like the face of satan (that is not true, but they should). it grows from a tiny shoot into an eight foot tree in about a minute. i need a chainsaw.
my hair is really pissing me off. it is in the ugliest grow out place. i look like a muppet. (with this thought i just franticly started hacking away at it with tiny scissors from my manicure set. i don't think it helped).
it makes me angry that this bed does not belong to me. so dreamy.
i am a little peeved that there is no chocolate in the house right now.
i almost bought chocolate today that had bacon pieces in it. why didn't i? i don't know. because i am dumb. oh man i wish i had some bacon chocolate right now.
it is going to be a good night.
oh missoula, missoula, missoula.
this weekend i will return to the big sky. i will get a huckleberry milkshake. i might go to the silver dollar for a pbr tallboy and keno. hopefully this time i won't get chased out by an angry mob of bridesmaids. (note: montana brides have no sense of humor when you steal their veil off their head.....why does montana bring the worst out of me?)
i will drive by my old house and silently weep.
i am doing my friends makeup for her wedding on saturday. and....well....if you know me, you understand why that is scary. i really want to do shimmery blue eyeshadow and hot pink cheeks....and something shimmery on the lips....you know keep it real to montana style.
then, the next weekend, we are going to reno....for another wedding. (dan's brother, sam and his awesome soon to be wife, shelly). riley get's to be a flower girl again, which she is ecstatic about. and this time i get to take photos!!! of their wedding! like a REAL photographer.
notes from dream last night:
i was miniature, like i shrunk to the size of a quarter.
i jumped off buildings and floated down with an umbrella.
like mary poppins.
i was not the only miniature person. there were lots of us.
i climbed into a random house through the mail slot.
i was looking for a clue to solve a crime.
this was easy and difficult as a tiny person.
i saw a lot of clues big people couldn't see.
Thursday, July 17, 2008
also...this week has been a monumental week of "firsts" for riley (milestones for a 5 year old). i have documented (of course) with pictures.
first soft serve twisty cone
first bubble tea
as you can see, her eating habits are not as healthy in the summer.
for every 3 treats there is 1 fruit.
hot and metallic
like dust turning into steam
and i am a girl in yakima
visiting her grandma
who stays inside
propped in a recliner
(i still think of her when i smell chapstick)
in the field across the street everything is dead.
the grass always brown.
weeds up to my waist.
a dog was buried there.
innocent of a crime against a mini poodle.
the wrong laborador!
you got the wrong dog!
and that is how i learned about injustice.
i would imagine the crickets song
was really a rattlesnake warning.
my heart would quicken and i would hold my breath
walk slowly through the ticks and tumbleweeds
waiting for a strike.
if i survived i would make it to the canal
dry and scattered with treasures
like tires and wristwatches.
once i found a bike.
rusted and twisted like beachwood
i wondered if a girl was once on it.
if she was on it when if fell into the canal.
i thought about her clawing at the sides.
and decided i didn't want
to play in the canal
the back yard was better.
apple trees and shade.
worms and green green grass.
and the rest i forget
because that is what happens
when you aren't afraid
but instead you take a nap
and dream of horses in orchards.
i can't stop looking at strangers. perhaps i need a new hobby. people watching gets exhausting when you notice all the details.
it started with the teenagers at the pool. sixteen and seventeen year old boys splashing about, teasing girls. their voices awkward. the weird way they look at me, eyes darting to the side, quickly. uncomfortably. different from men. men look. stare. unapologetically. and then one day i watched as they got out of the pool. their bodies so long. arms and legs like vines. every abdominal muscle defined and separate. so toned but tiny. like their muscle's needed some gristle. speedos that are about the size of a swim cap. all these asscracks pointing to shoulders and necks. water droplets rolling down their spines.
i assure you that i was noticing all of this in a very non sexual way. it was more a "holy shit, i forgot what teenage dudes looked like" kind of way. and i kept thinking "that is a fine specimen of a human teenager"....like it should be in a textbook with arrows and explanations.
then i noticed the old woman at the hospital when i was visiting my dad. she was also on the 11th floor which meant she had a transplant or an organ removed. her skin was so white it made me think of abalone shells. iridescent blue and purple veins shining in the light. it looked thin as rice paper. it was as beautiful as newborn skin.
i noticed a woman who was too big for her jeans sit down and unbutton the top button and shift and adjust. she was pretty with a ponytail. she had rolls spilling out and over and i wanted to tell her to just buy larger jeans because she would feel like a new person. i wanted to say imagine sitting down and not feeling uncomfortable in your skin. but i didn't. i just pretended i didn't notice.
there is this toddler who's sister is in riley's swim class. he has light brown hair with little curls by his neck. he tilts his head to the side. his hands look like ginger snaps. he plays with wood toys...hammering and sawing with such concentration. such quiet intensity. he pretends to saw something off his mom and says "momma you're free"! i feel tears well up and my chest gets heavy. i want to scoop him up and squeeze him.
there was a pregnant woman at madison park the other day. she was laying on the grass in the shade. i couldn't stop staring. how the skin looked taught and strong. how her hips looked perfectly balanced and accommodating. how tiny everything else looked on her. tiny arms and hands. petite shoulders and ribs. and this giant, perfectly round belly sticking up. pointing to the sky.
and don't get me started on the women in the changing room at the pool. it is amazing. lines and creases. white bellies and folds. like pizza dough. like milk. like biscuits. beautiful. i hope they see themselves as beautiful as i do.
Wednesday, July 16, 2008
is what they say
is it like breaking a horse?
training a puppy?
pruning roses without gloves?
like the after sunburn peel
layers and flakes
if it comes off in one piece, like an orange, do i get a prize?
last night the moon sat on our roof.
full and heavy.
the sidewalk held heat.
these days we leave all the windows open.
how can love feel so full
and so terrifying?
Tuesday, July 15, 2008
it is none of my business. not if you are gay. or vegan. or if you hunt bunnies. it is none of my business if you are catholic, christian, jewish, muslim, buddhist. it is none of my business if you weigh 100 lbs more than me or 100 lbs less. or if you smoke crack or meth or huff gasoline. it is none of my business if you drive or walk. if you choose paper or plastic.
we could stand back to back and see who's taller. we could stand on a scale and peek at the numbers. we could make lists of all are beliefs. but, really....it doesn't matter....as long as we are accepting.
accepting....funny how this idea seems so elementary....yet is so profound. i can't judge. i am imperfect. i am flawed. i am human and i am trying. being judgmental and accepting doesn't work. but do i think that i am better than some people? no. of course not. mostly no. do i think i am better than a murderer or rapist? FUCK YES i do. here is the problem with not judging....it is an imperfect system.
it is unfortunate that "religious" people have screwed up religion. it has sent an entire generation against something that might actually be wonderful and fulfilling.
i think most "religious" people are judgmental and small minded. i think they are hypocrites and bigots. see what i did there? i judged. and suddenly i am as bad as "them". but at least i am outwardly aware of all this. and i don't want to allow it in myself. if i take anything from my spirituality (funny that i have a hard time even naming it) it is to improve and care. to have compassion. to be a better me.....and that doesn't mean you have to be a better you.
but...as i walked along the beach this morning i had this thought:
i'll take the god that feels like this. right
now. calm and loved. forgiven and cherished. it feels like this air
i breathe....air that has come from the ocean...air that is soft and
salty and warm on my face...like a kiss. yes. I'll take this god, a
god of grace. of calming strength. of love. yes please.
and you can keep your god. the god capable of vengeance. the one that judges
and can punish. you can keep the god that is able to hate and hurt. because i don't think that is god at all, but it is the opposite.
Saturday, July 12, 2008
i read until 3am. nineteen minutes by jodi picoult. it is a good summer read because it sucks you in and doesn't demand too much. but it is about a high school shooting....bullying....the social class system that exists in high school. i want everyone to read it so we can discuss. so....go now....read.
notes from dream last night:
i was riding a bicycle down the street.
i was in a dress
the temperature outside was the same as my body
and there was a soft breeze that felt warm and sweet, like someones breath.
my hair was longer and felt nice blowing against my face.
i made a turn and signaled to traffic appropriately, and pointed to the left.
(in real life, i have not been on a bicycle for years and would not feel at all comfortable riding in traffic and signaling turns...also...i am one of the few adults that never learned to ride with no hands...and it one of those "things" i am not entirely over...like walking on my hands...i will learn how to do these things before i die)
Thursday, July 10, 2008
sometimes she does these little things that just make me melt.
like when she said "thanks for saving my life, mom" when i pulled a tiny splinter from her foot.
and the way she tucks her hair behind her ear.
and the way she laughs while running.
Monday, July 7, 2008
when we found it, my first thought was to pick it up. cradle it. pet it and rock slowly back and forth. in a moment, that passed and i whispered "don't touch it". it's fur looked so smooth. like it would feel like silk. or softer. maybe cashmere. wet cashmere. i wondered if she wanted to pet it like i did. or if she could even understand death. she said he was sleeping and when the tide came back up, the water would take him back to the sea, back to his home and his mother. and then i realized she understands death more than i do.
then she asked why there was blood on his head. where was it's eye. why is there a rock where it's eye should be. i said birds probably picked at it and someone must have put the rock there.
it was the same size as a an infant. it's round belly and smooth head looked just like a human baby. this didn't make it more scary or horrifying. it was just an observation i made to myself when i was trying to figure out why i wanted, desperately, to hold it.
i silently cursed any child that poked at it with a stick, especially the child who placed a rock, a fucking rock, where its beautiful, deep, dark eye once was. i started to get emotional at this thought. something so new. so young and magical as a baby seal. with shiny fur and perfect spots and a tiny tail tucked under him. a baby seal who died alone on a beach and some fucking jerkoff poked at it. how dare they. how dare they put a rock in it's eye.
i could see little eyelashes surrounding the rock. my heart hurt for the mother seal. do they even love? does she miss him? was she out there waiting for the tide to come up?
it wasn't until we walked away that it occurred to me...someone...perhaps a mother like me....covered the the eaten, pecked out eye. perhaps she covered it to save us from the hurt or the fear of witnessing what was underneath.
here they are:
wine. i used to be picky about it. now if it is in front of me, i will drink it. red, white, pink. life is too short to be snobby about wine. i even put an ice cube in my chardonnay....cuz i don't care. and it is good. and it makes me happy. and how rad are these wine glasses?
this foofy poofy puffkitten. this sunshine ball of fur. this makes my heart explode.
these summertime photos. i am in love with images that feel like summer. Polaroid's filled with sun. faded beachy colors. warm evening light. i LOVE rose and olive stuff....here is their flickr page.
robert downey jr makes me very very happy.
gazpacho! gazpacho wins! step one: go to local farmer's market and get tomatoes, green bell pepper, sweet onions, cucumber, basil. step 2: put in food processor with a splash of white wine vinegar and a drizzle of olive oil. step 3: garnish with avocado and salted almonds. step 4: fall deep into summertime food bliss and feel happy and oh so healthy.
scrabble. travel scrabble. play it any time, anywhere. i am slightly obsessed with playing.
here we are at gasworks. dan just said "well... i see here you have 'gonut'...."
stephen dunn poetry
Essay on the Personal
Because finally the personal
is all that matters,
we spend years describing stones,
chairs, abandoned farmhouses--
until we're ready. Always
it's a matter of precision,
what it feels like
to kiss someone or to walk
out the door. How good it was
to practice on stones
which were things we could love
without weeping over. How good
someone else abandoned the farmhouse,
bankrupt and desperate.
Now we can bring a fine edge
to our parents. We can hold hurt
up to the sun for examination.
But just when we think we have it,
the personal goes the way of
belief. What seemed so deep
begins to seem naive, something
that could be trusted
because we hadn't read Plato
or held two contradictory ideas
or women in the same day.
Love, then, becomes an old movie.
Loss seems so common
it belongs to the air,
to breath itself, anyone's.
We're left with style, a particular
way of standing and saying,
the idiosyncratic look
at the frown which means nothing
until we say it does. Years later,
long after we believed it peculiar
to ourselves, we return to love.
We return to everything
strange, inchoate, like living
with someone, like living alone,
settling for the partial, the almost
satisfactory sense of it.
cuddling makes me happy. and it is free.
i love this light fixture. LOVE IT. and i also love softserve ice cream.
baguettes from bakery nouveau. i mean, i really can't get enough. warm. delicious. comfort food for me is a baguette dipped in hot cocoa.