i believe jon d is overdue

Perhaps not the thing to read on a Friday night...
But maybe just the thing?

MY RETIREMENT PLAN:
Since it already happens, why not? Might as well cash in, right?

One day I will open a bar and call it "The Library": The unashamed premise being that you come to check out and pick up "some reading material" for the night. Our job behind the bar? give you enough alcohol that your heart will be numb enough to believe you are happy. Maybe we will even provide a screening service (medical and criminal records), and we will have card carrying members: a clear symbol of status and distinction!

I can't even check a book out of the library because I hate the idea of returning it. When I "loan out" a book, I usually soon afterwards go out and purchase a new copy for myself. I just hope that the "borrower" will like it enough to hang onto it or pass it on to someone else. I am the girl whom publishers love. I once purchased 3 copies of a single title (at various times)- all of them now long since passed on to others. Because of this ridiculous tendency, we purposefully purchased multiple used paperbacks of Walker Percy's writings. Can't give away our first editions. If I like a book, I read it over and over again. I have not read much- the repetition slows me down.

With this obsessive/ possessive nature of mine, I find the picking up and tossing aside of people quite... disturbing but also fascinating... Kind of like watching the twitching of the huge dying cockroaches that, like left over leaves from fall, litter the restroom floor of the UTC library following Christmas break. Grotesque, but I find I am drawn to observing the delicate legs and waving antennae while the creature lies on its back flailing as it tries to right itself. I wonder, "How did it get on its back in the first place? Why don't they die on their feet? Do they have some sort of seizures that flip them over?" They panic when approached but calm to a gentle scraping of air when they find themselves undisturbed in their dying moments. It probably takes days. I remember visiting one particular insect over the period of a week before it finally disappeared. That was the closest I have come to visiting a dying loved one. I remember one day leaving the restroom with tears in my eyes because I could do nothing for that small body- actually quite wonderful in its complexity. The way its legs attached to its body, the armored body segments. The precise oval shape, the delicately veined wings. Perfection, except for a poison that caused it to flip. A poison that made it unable to function- unable to walk or eat or drink. I knew it couldn't survive the toxins in its system, but I would come and squat by it each day just to ponder its beauty and the strength it had to fight every day to hang onto its minuscule life. It was dying all alone. As far as I know, I was the only one who came to visit. A puff of breath to see if my little friend was still alive. If yes, then a fluttering wave of legs to greet me. How sad the Monday I returned to find he'd been swept away like a stray piece of toilet paper. I had become attached even to a large, dying cockroach.

At least in some matters my nature remains consistent. I become attached and place high value on the people and things that cross my path. I gather them and collect them and ponder them; but I suppose at the same time, there is also a perverse fascination in knowing that we are all dying and that most of the time we don't even realize it. We are all lying on our backs waving our legs at each other. I have heard insects don't feel pain; we have to numb with alcohol, chemicals, pleasures... We could lie on the floor of the bathroom for years, tossing our evening's libations into the toilet, smiling because we had so much fun.

Oddly, the ones who realize they are sad and dying become the outcast... Perhaps it is just too undignified the way we don't stop flailing and trying to right ourselves.

Perhaps we will also provide counselling services at The Library
for all those who really meant the things they said and did the night or the week before.

aboard? no, I said, "abort!"

Sir Richard Branson is making it possible for all of us to travel into space, well... okay, some of us... okay, not many of us at all, but we can all experience Virgin Galactic's outerspace experience through cyberspace. If you've not tried it- you should!!!

Wish I had an extra $200K. Best wishes to all the pioneers!!!

a little ditty for sir dick:

I'm selling my place
And heading for space.
Can't wait to get gone.
It won't be too long...

Hit me with force Mach 3
So I can experience 0G
(Floating free)
All the pressure sliding off from me.

Pushing through the atmosphere;
Punching through this veil of tears.

Don't worry when off I blast
I assume I'm never coming back.
Y'say Major Tom had you sad,
But, Dude, the view! 'tweren't too bad.
Gotta get myself ready to go
Become an astronaut.
Saying "Goodbye" to everyone I know
And selling everything I've got.

Hit me with force Mach 3
So I can experience 0G
(Floating free)
All the pressure sliding off from me.

Pushing through the atmosphere;
Punching through this veil of tears.

Blast me up into space
Far above this human race.
I never seemed to run it well.
I tried, but when I finally fell
I couldn't get my heart to come back 'round.
Ever since, it's been slowin' down.
So I am headed up beyond the sky,
And, at least, if I can't fly,
I'll sure enjoy the way I die.

Hit me with force Mach 3
So I can experience 0G
(Floating free)
All the pressure sliding off from me.
All my troubles scraped off me.

Pushing through the atmosphere;
Punching through this veil of tears.
(Floating free)
All the pressure sliding off from me.
All the pressure sliding off from me.
(Floating free)
(Falling free)

washing all the colours away

Following is a bit of a rant that will most likely interest no one. Like I said awhile back, who really believes that anyone reads or cares about their thoughts? a bit narcissistic, this whole blogging thing, but I am becoming attached.

I have noticed that many people are afraid of colours. I wonder why that is. As children we love them, the brighter the better- so what happens along the way that makes us suspicious and even afraid of vibrancy in colour?

I wonder how do other people choose colours to fill their homes?

We are selling one of the coolest homes in all of Chattanooga, and I worry the young man who is moving in will not appreciate its flow and its uniqueness in room sizes (kitchen, living, dining, bathrooms and bedrooms are big for stelmo. We even have closets and a laundry as well as a West-facing deck with an incredible view of the mountain). Surprisingly though, I am most distressed that he may lack the imagination to appreciate the colours which make this quite the groovy pad.

His mother says he wants to paint it white!!! Of course, considering the cost to paint this house, and that it was painted within the last 2 years and recently touched up, I doubt he will go to that extreme.

The story of choosing a colour scheme:
I wish I could find a before photo of our house. We used to drive passed it, even after a month of living here. Extremely nondescript, bland. Actually kind of ugly. We purchased for the interior. The garden? there was none. Even the trees were sad. We lived with it for almost 7 years before we could afford to do anything about the paint.

It took a few months to choose a palette. The fall months are the best months to research nature's combinations in Chattanooga. I like for a house to complement its surrounding landscape. Living in St. Elmo, we are surrounded by old trees and antique gardens with beautiful spring flowers, but spring is far more fleeting than fall, and the trees are much stronger elements especially as I had not finished the garden plantings at that time.

When trying to make the decision, I would take long walks through the neighborhood. I would stand in front of the beautifully restored Victorians and take note of the variety of colours and how they were used to highlight and accent. One of my favorite homes has, I think it is, 7 different colours- though many of those are in the same family. I would stare at the birds who visited our garden, the stray dogs, the feral cats, the chickens and roosters. On my walks, I would gather fallen leaves, sticks, and rocks. I created a large catalog of purples, reds, goldens, yellows, greens, taupes, pinks, browns and blues- many colours represented on the same leaf, stick or rock. (I love the way there are no "solids" in nature. Every "solid" we see is only an illusion created from the various colours as seen in harmony.)

Bags of nature later, I finally made a decision. I found a small, beautifully patinous spot on our deck- a spot where the sun did not shine during that fabulous, wet season. The wood had weathered to a fantastic clay/ taupe with touches of aubergine mildew and the loveliest aqua lichen. I selected paint swatches, but was unsure how to apply them- body, base, trim, and accent. Thanks to the job supervisor from Randy Wilson, we came up with a lovely scheme that is both in line with the interior exuberance of our home as well as the historic nature of the 'hood.

To think that all the consideration that created this beautiful spot could be washed clean of colour and made glaring white, bleached and lifeless, a skeleton drying in the sun! SIGH!

Why is it that I want to have control in matters where I have no right even to speak? Too attached am I...

Don't tell me this house is not my home
And that neither is this flesh and bone,
I think I just want to be alone.

appetite for entertainment

Cheers and Beers!!!

A better Friday night? Perhaps another... same places, same faces- I see a pattern in my smile.

Rhythm & Brews 2 nights in 1 week. empty pockets.

Thursday: David Wilcox- haven't seen him in 12 years! Early on he played a song I like to sing sometimes for the children when things go all wrong but it is all right. (Like my life.) In fact, the room began to fill with children sometime during the show.

Friday: GNR tribute band, Appetite for Destruction!!! There is nothing like getting into costume, dining on scallops and dancing near the man you love while hidden in a crowd of people- easier to dance while invisible. I even saw a Giant Tiger in the crowd. Perhaps Rock and Roll can save my soul... or send me straight to Hades. I am sure when I get there I will see many familiar faces from the show. I also expect that it won't be too much hotter there than it is here in Chattanooga.

Speaking of invisibility: Why are we so worried about what other people think of us? Especially girls. In the restroom, my friend and I met a beautiful woman fussing with her clothing at the mirror. She was quite stylish in her jeans, layered tops and black vest. Perfect hair and makeup, but she wasn't sure she was good enough. Good grief! Hopefully, she heard the truth we spoke to her. She was beautiful!

Anyway, who cares? It seems each one of us is so preoccupied with self that I don't think any of us really sees anyone else- unless looking to... how do I say it politely... score? Is that euphemism still used? A bit ironic, we were there to see a simulation band, and as the night progressed, Love became victim to a sort of shoddy imitation.

Dear Appetite for Destruction,
Your artful act of simulation
Had a strange effect of permeation,
And I watched in consternation
As throughout our congregation
Love underwent a permutation;
And in our desire for titillation
We pulled the goddess down from her station.
----

On a lighter note... if anyone reads this- Patience: is it "sad woman" or "said woman"? The lyrics sites say "said woman", I always thought it was "sad woman". I want it to be "sad" so it refers to a present, instead of past, conversation. Hmmm, perhaps that's part of her having to be patient: She's not heard from him in awhile...? Okay, so maybe this thought wasn't lighter after all.

"I'M STILL ALRIGHT TO SMILE."

just how did puss cat get to london?

The following rhyme is inspired by true events!
It's a crazy place, but that's part of its charm. I love St. Elmo!
Thanks to MFB for starting me at the very ending.
Colloquial eloquence and wisdom are yours.

Open the door.
Walk the steps.
Make the decision to move
Through space and time.
It's a very fine line,
But you feel in your bones
What you need to do.
The decision seems hard.
It's an awfully big yard
Filled with dangers on left and right.
What needs to be done
You do all alone
When the neighbor kid slips outta sight.

You run 'cross the street
Pavement burning your feet.
You're stealthy and quick as a fox.
Not sure if you oughtta,
But sometimes you gotta
Just get the cat outta the mailbox.

lucky

As a child I learned
The best place to find
A 4-leaf clover
Is in a patch
Where the sewer is
Bubbling up- seeping over.

Treasure can't be found in a department store
But between the cracks in the floor,
And only when you despair,
"There is no more."

(And only if you can stand the smell.
I learned this lesson very well
When I was just a child.)

bathing in star showers

It is hard to see the stars from inside.

That says it all, doesn't it? It is hard to see most things when you are surrounded by silent walls and ceilings, both physical and psychological. Ooooo... I think I hear the sonar trying to find a soul! Ping. Ping. Ping.

The night sky has been beautiful for the last few days. Found a spot 5 miles or so past Covenant College, climbed atop the VWEurovan and watched the best show in Chattanooga! The Spheres were performing!!! The Perseid Meteor Shower (St. Lawrence's Tears) peaked this weekend. Fantastic. Perseus was tossing some lovely stars out of the sky. Though from my perspective, it appeared Cassiopeia was doing most of the work. Perseus was kind of lost in the Chattanooga glow. I was actually able to capture Jupiter on my iPhone- nothing else obviously- its a camera on a phone for crying out loud! but I had to prove to my friends just how bright he has been. How bright is he? Insanely so, he is so bright that the van was reflecting his light. Jupiter Victor. He has conquered my heart!!! Quite literally- he was right over it! helping Sagittarius target my (Scorpio's) poor blinking heart. Capricorn- which really looks more like a Big Chicken or Partridge- was trudging along infront of Aquarius who was laboring quite seriously as the twirling Fishes were playing in the tree tops. The Milky Way was extremely bright on Thursday night, but lessened in intensity as the weekend progressed. We could scarcely see it tonight. The moon is on her way back to take over her place in the sky, but she will be eclipsed (by Earth, of course) at the end of this month. Even terra firma wants a piece of the heavenly action, if only just through the casting of her shadow.

The star studded shows we saw this weekend were definitely worth the stiff necks the following mornings.
Speaking of falling stars, cannot wait to see Stardust, the new neil gaiman movie!!!!
Transport me, I am ready to go... anywhere but here.

Random Thought: Do you suppose, if we shot a rocket between us and the moon during the lunar eclipse, we would sever the Earth from her soul?

Hurled by Perseus
To this mad, mad world
The stars were falling
I heard them calling
Calling us to catch them
One by One
We could have made it
If you had run
Guess you were having
Too much fun
Inside



"SURFING ON A ROCKET, SURFING ON A ROCKET, SURFING ON A ROCKET"

hoi polloi

I have always thought blogs were a bit self indulgent, narcissistic in fact. Are there people out there who really think anyone else cares what they think? But events of last night have pushed me over the edge, and I must enter this world of the outspoken elitists.

Went to Rhythm & Brews last night to see a band named The Breakfest Club, a spin on the title of that great 80's movie by John Hughes, yes? It was packed, not even room to dance. Naively I thought, they must be good! Firstly they were misnamed- I would have named the band Soul Survivor (if that isn't already taken). Opening song- "Eye of the Tiger"- should have known then, not that 80's top 40 is a problem, but I was there to hear the moody music that was featured in the movies- the smiths, psychedelic furs, omd... The seething, drunken crowd was happily singing along to all the songs- they even did a little Devo- I smiled. When they played a hard rock cover of The Cure's "Just Like Heaven", the crowd stopped singing, and began milling about, a bit confused. ARGH! C'mon Chattanooga! They will never play that song again, not that they were doing it justice, but it was the most poetic song we heard the entire 30 minutes we were there. We left during a rendition of Huey Lewis's "The Power of Love".

We are sipping tea and spinning our very own playlist of 80's stuff- good stuff: INXS- would've been a great opening for the band last night, Tears for Fears, Adam Ant, Thomas Dolby, Love and Rockets, Talking Heads, Violent Femmes, New Order...

I have been returned to the sad reality that the masses are content with mediocrity, not only content but delighted.

NO NEW TALE TO TELL