I am a Chicken

Over the past few weeks I have been thinking of getting my hair cut. I have had basically the same hair for almost ten years now. Above is a picture from 7 years ago and if you look at my profile picture taken in March you can see what I mean. The same hair. So recently I saw a woman with really great hair. It was very short and looked really great. I wanted her hair and I have a hairdresser that I think could easily reproduce this short pixie like cut for me and it would probably look great. I made an appointment for today at Noon. I have cancelled the appointment. I can not do it. Why is hair such a dilemma for us. When I asked a couple people about what they thought about my cutting my hair they visibly winced like I had punched them. It is my hair after all, why would it cause such a reaction from them. Now granted a few people were very supportive. They said things like it is just hair, it will grow back, and they are right. It is just hair, it will grow back, so why did I chicken out. I can not explain it. Fear perhaps? Instead I have decided to just get new glasses.

The Reports of Darth Vader's Death are True

Sad news on the homefront. Despite his best efforts to beat the hand of time, Darth Vader has succumbed. He threw of the fins of his mortal existence and joined that big school of fish in the sky. I had thought I was prepared for his death as it has been coming for a while now. But alas I was not prepared. It was a sad day when I discovered him floating in his bowl. He lived a good long life, 31/2 years, a long time for a fish. My apartment feels empty without him. I think Chavdar has even noticed the emptiness.

Being Good

It felt so good to be bad. She had lived most of her 29 years being good. Studying in school, not smoking, no excessive drinking, following instructions and directions, listening to her fellow man, working hard. But now she was free of all that for the first time in her life and it felt good, darkly, dirty, sexy good. She could see the fear in the eyes of the man she had the heel of her boot planted on. She dug her heel in a little more and watched with glee as he winced in pain. This was the most fun she had in a long while. She asked the man one more time for the information she wanted. This time with blood streaming from his broken nose he gave it up, everything she needed to know. She removed her foot from his neck holstered her gun and sauntered out. She headed for a bar she knew would be crowded with the kind of people she needed. In her short skirt and fishnet stockings a man couldn't help but watch her walk by. And that is exactly what she wanted. She had learned the fine art of distraction from a prostitute in Memphis. It was a skill she had never used before but had found she had a knack for and she used it now for one reason and one reason alone, Revenge! They would pay, all of them. The good girl was gone.

Chocolate Bars for Guns

If I could stop time this is what I would do: I would go all over the world and replace every single gun with a Chocolate bar. The Gun locked in a box in your closet, now a chocolate bar. The gun resting on that rack in the back window of your truck, a chocolate bar. The guns of every soldier every where, chocolate bars. The guns being manufactured at Smith and Wesson, now chocolate bars, in fact the Smith and Wesson factory, now a chocolate factory. Once time was unfrozen everyone would then have all this amazing chocolate to eat and would not even notice the guns were gone because they would be too happy eating chocolate to even care about what they had been planning to do with those guns.

If I could have one super power it would be teleportation. It is a selfish super power and I would want to be able to teleport other with me sometimes. Just think about it. Dinner in Paris, you are there in an instant. Bead shopping in Accura, Ghana whenever you want. Visiting family an friends at a moments notice. Think of all you could do and the money you would save.

Inspiration

In the spring I was inspired by my friend Alexandra to get back to writing. I had not really been pursuing it recently and she helped me become excited about it again. So I set up one big goal for myself, create a writing corner by the end of the summer. I wanted to find a desk( for cheap since I do work in the non-profit world)and I wanted to paint it a fun color and I wanted to make it a good place to write. I actually accomplished this feat. I got a desk for free from a friend who was moving, I painted it a pale blue and I decorated it with pictures, etc, and I created a good place to write. Above is a terrible picture of the desk, but it will have to do for now. Below is the beginning of a story I am working on at that desk. Thanks Alex.


The dream started like it always had in the past. She was sitting on a tree stump in a lush forest surround by a group of strange, mystical creatures. The centaur was the first to speak. She always listened intently and although she could see his lips moving she could never hear a word of what he was saying. In fact there was no sound at all in the dream and there never had been. She always awoke at the same moment every time, at the point when the creatures began to silently clap in unison. This time though was different she saw the Centaurs lips move and suddenly she could her birds chirping and then rolling like thunder there was a loud roaring coming from across the forest.
She sat bolt upright and grabbed her head to stop the pounding. She was shaking and covered in sweat. She looked around her darkened room as the moonlight danced its way along the floor, waltzing up and touching on the bright blue pendant laying on her dresser, making the eye on the pendant appear to be winking at her.

Family Values

I am frustrated, tired and getting angrier by the day. The reasons for this are the constant bombardment by the Republicans in office and those running for office, with negative ads and scare tactics. For the last six years I have been told over and over that if I do not support the Republicans that I do not support family values. That if I do not support the Republicans I want the terrorist to win. That if I do not support the Republicans I will go to hell. I am sick and tired. I heard again yesterday in a program on what the press calls, "Security Mom's" ,a young woman about my age actually said, "The Republican Party is the Party for me because they support family values," I yelled at the TV, Really!!!!! Because I guess that is true if you think family values consists of lying about WMD's, cutting taxes yet spending more money on a War you lied about to get support for, cutting funding for Health and Human services, blaming your predecessor for not catching Osama Bin Laden when you, yourself have had six years in which to catch him and you have not, ignoring Korea for the last six years so you can wage a War on a country that had no real connection to the attack on 9/11, being to bullheaded to use diplomacy to try to solve world problems, passing a law called "No Child Left Behind" that actually leaves every child behind ,except for the children of the very rich who can afford the best private schools, Oh and yeah, sending illicit text messages to underage boys describing what you want to do to them sexually, if all of these sound like good family values to you then yes the Republican Party is the party for you. Oh and I will see you in Hell, you heard me, because according to a number of your Strong, Jesus loving, terrorist Hating, Patriotic, White Sheet Wearing brethren I am going to hell for all of my liberalism, While you will be there for all the evil you have allowed to flourish by voting Republican, all in the name of Family Values. Peace.

Fact: King Tut bears an eerie resemblance to Barbara Streisand.

I had the opportunity to see the King Tut exhibit at the Field Museum here in Chicago this week. It amazes me that these artifact's are over 3000 years old and still in wonderful condition. I did the audio tour which I love doing so I can learn lots of interesting facts. For instance, King Tut was just nineteen when he died. There were a lot more interesting facts as well, but the most interesting thing I learned was that from what scientists have figured out from CAT scans etc is that King Tut bears an uncanny resemblance to a Young Barbara Steisand.

The Costume

She had skinned her knee again. It seemed that she always had a skinned knee, bruised elbow, scratched leg, or stubbed toe. She was klutzy and had never felt comfortable in her skin, ever, not for 12 years. Her parents said she would grow into her body and that everyone sometimes felt like they did not belong in their own skin. But she seriously believed that this feeling of hers was different then that. She really thought she did not belong in the body she now occupied. She could not describe it to anyone and had never tried for fear they would laugh at her. She got that enough and did not need anything else to make people think she was a freak. On the morning of her thirteenth birthday with a skinned knee she sat down for breakfast with her parents. They were acting weird but she did not dwell on it. All she could think about was what was going to happen at school and how she had to get up in front of her whole class and read her poem. She hated speaking in front of her class. So when her Mom cleared her throat and said she need to talk to her about something important, she was not really focusing on what she was saying. All she really noticed was the moving of her Mom’s lips and her nervous hand gestures. That was until her Mom slowly reached up to her hair line and pulled off her face. She gasped and watched in horror as her Dad also reached up and pulled off his face. Underneath was the most beautiful iridescent blue skin she had ever seen. She truly listened then and sat and took it all in, absorbing everything. Then she stood up and went slowly up to her room. What she learned was going to take some time to sort out. But first she had to see if it was true. She went to the mirror on her closet door and lifted up her hair. She had never really paid attention to the scar that ran along her hairline. Her parents had told her she had minor surgery when she was a baby, but apparently that was not true. Apparently what her parents meant when they said she had minor surgery was that they had created a human skin to cover her real skin so that she could live as a human. So she lifted her hair again and pulled her skin down and their beneath the human skin was the blue iridescent skin. It was lovely. She was lovely. Her eyes when seen with the human skin appeared plain and brown but with this blue skin they glowed a bright amber color. She was still adjusting to this revelation when her older brother burst through the door of her room. He started talking and everything gushed out about how their parents had told him on his thirteenth birthday and how it had taken him a while to adjust. She sank to the floor and just listened. Listened to his words flow over her. She started thinking about all her scrapes and bruises and how she had never felt as if she fit into this body and now she knew why. It was not her skin. Her skin was the iridescent blue that all her kind had in common. They had settled on earth three generations before; putting on their human costumes to blend in. Their planet had died over a hundred years ago and although most of her kind had settled on earth there were others who had settled on different planets in different solar systems. That evening as she looked out her window at all the stars shining brightly in the sky, a slow smile spread across her face. She fell asleep that night feeling comfortable for the first time in 13 years as the moon glistened on her bright blue skin.

The Reports of Darth Vader's death are greatly exaggerated!

I have been on a death watch for the past two weeks. My beloved fish Darth Vader has appeared to be on death's door. Yet he remains alive. I first noticed a couple of weeks ago that he was listing to the side and wanted to lay at the bottom of his bowl most of the time and he was not eating. I changed his water in the hopes of reviving him but it seemed to only make him linger more at death's door. But against all hopes last night he seemed to simply shake off deaths grip and started swimming vigorously around his bowl. I feed him and he ate every morsel. What happened to give Mr.Vader(as my Dad likes to call him) a renewed vigor for life? I have no answer that question. Perhaps he realized all he would miss out on if he did swim into the light. Or maybe just maybe he dreams of making it into the Guinness Book of World Records by being the longest living Betta Fish ever. He has survived for 3 years and 4 months so surely he is on his way. I hope his zest for life keeps him going. I will be sad when he does decide to throw off the mantle of mortal existence and join the school of fish in the blue waters of the sea beyond.

Instructions

The instructions said to simply add water. So she filled the small glass jar with water and waited. She checked on it every few hours the first two days, then as the days became weeks she checked every few days. As the weeks became months she checked every few weeks and as those months added up and became years she simply forgot about the small glass jar and went on with her life. She grew up and went to high school, then college. She got a job she liked but did not love. She meet a man she liked but did not love. She liked the life she had carved for herself but she did not love it. She never complained and was grateful for a good steady life. But she did dream of far flung adventures with dashing men and fabulous clothes and exotic places. She dreamed of becoming a spy and seeking out all the worlds secrets She dreamed of being a doctor who traverses the Rainforest looking for its secret cures. She dreamed of speaking every language known to man. She held her dreams close to her and told no one of her desires. Until that day when she was reminded of the instructions she had followed years ago, "Just add water." The police came to her door that day asking questions, then the FBI showed up asking questions, then the CIA and Scotland Yard showed up asking more questions. She did not have the answers to their questions. She was confused. They took her away and put her in a small room by herself. They came again and asked the questions again, but this time she knew the answers, she even could answer in several languages. She did not know how she could do this but she could and slowly as they kept asking questions and she kept answering, she began to not just like her life but love it. What transpired after all the questions is a mystery because she left through a side door and no one has seen her since. Her parents keep mementos of her around the house to remind them that she did exist. One of the mementos her mother cherishes is the small glass jar that had once been filled with water by a little girl formulating dreams of the future, on the instruction tag it said, fill with water and all your dreams will come true.

Open Letter to the residents of the Condo Building Next Door to my office building

Dear Condo Residents,

You may not realize this because you foolishly think that because you live on the 8th floor of a luxury condo building in downtown Chicago no one can see into your apartment. Just to let you know, we can. Most people in my office are here at work by 8:30 am every week-day, so if you decide that a nice morning bout of sex with your partner is what you want to do, great more power to you, but please close the curtains. Also if you feel like frying bacon for breakfast either wear clothes to do it or close the curtains. We can see you.

Yours Truly,
Employees across the street

Carcassonne

I just finished reading a delicious book called the Labyrinth, by Kate Mosse. It is set in France in both current times and the 12th century. Being a history major I love reading historical fantasy. Time travelling, past lives, I love it all. I loved this book and actually it has piqued my interest in a number of subjects, The Crusades, Medieval France, The Cathers, Occitan and most specifically Carcassonne, France. What I knew from reading this book was that it was a walled city that was first founded during the Roman Empire and that it is one of the few remaining walled cities in Europe and is located in Southern France. After googling it I found that it is a UNESCO World Heritage site and is probably one of the most beautiful places I have seen. It was occupied by the Visigoths in 436. In 1082 the Trencavel family came to be Viscounts of Carcassonne. It was abandoned in the 18th century and was almost demolished in 1850 but some restoration had already begun and thus the demolition decree was never carried out. It is now at the top of my world travel list. A lot happened at Carcassonne, during the the Crusades against the Cathers it was beiseged and eventually fell. It is now a huge tourist destination.

In the future only Robots will know love.

My co-workers and I have become obsessed with Robots and Super Computers. We have Robot pictures on our desktops, for his birthday we bought my boss a book titled
"How to survive a Robot Uprising" and my boss is planning a Robot costume for Halloween. In that vein we have recently been discussing what the future holds for Robots. My boss believes that the Earth will never know peace and harmony until we are all ruled by a Supercomputer. I disagree for various reason but mainly because computer are ultimately programmed by humans(his argument that eventually the supercomputer will start to build its own computers so the human element is mot is wrong because the origin of all computers will still be man.) We have had numerous discussion on this topic, to the extent that we have become consumed with proving our point. Will a Super Computer be a better leader or will it fail to because it was built by humans. These discussions have gone on for entire lunches. Recently we went to lunch with a co-worker who had yet to be involved in the Super computer discussion and I really think we scared him. He seemed to be shocked by the fact that instead of discussing our current foreign policy we were actually discussing the merits of being ruled by a Super computer. But ultimately our discussions of Super Computer Dictatorships are way more entertaining then contemplating the Iraq War and the Bush administration because lets face it I am just bidding my time until 2008. Super Computer for President 2008!

PS: In the future only robots will know love, it is a fact.

Paint your own pottery

In the Regency period of history when Jane Austin was writing her amazing novels, young woman of a certain class did not have many options when it came to spending their free time. They could read, play the pinafore, paint water color landscapes or pieces of pottery. I am thankful that I did not live during this time because I would have gone crazy with the lack of freedom and choices, but I think we have lost something that people of this time had. The ability to truly enjoy our leisure time and fill it with simple fun activities, like archery or boating or painting pottery. Instead too many people hang out at bars and drink.

So this week-end my friends Diane, Stephanie and I spent a leisurely afternoon painting pottery. It is loads of fun and I think that I am developing an addiction to it. This is the second time I have painted pottery the first happened as a spur of the moment thing. This time we sort of planned it. I painted a mug and am so looking forward to picking it up on Saturday that I can hardly concentrate on anything else. The best part of the process is just hanging out with your friends and talking as you paint. I highly recommend this activity.

I also went bowling this week-end so it turned out to be a great week-end.

Arch-nemesis

To insure that my life is as full and fun as I can make it I have always felt it is important to have an arch nemesis. I have done this since I was young. I think it adds color and joy to your life to have that one person you just dread seeing and you want to shake your fist at. There are aome rules to who my arch-nemesis is, they are simple rules, they are not people or things that could actually ever really hurt me but that are just daily, weekly or monthly annoyances. A good example would be one of my first, she was my baby-sitter for about 3 years and she always made me watch scary movies, I dreaded her. Jerry Seinfeld has a good one in Newman.

I currently have two arch-nemesis. One I call the Starbucks boy. He works at the Starbucks a block from my apartment and he is the slowest barista EVER! But that is not why he is my enemy. Last year I walked to Starbucks on a Sunday morning as I am want to do and he was working the register. He did not greet me or ask me what I wanted he said, " Do you watch adult swim" he mumbled this and I did not quite hear him so I said, "What" and he smugly said," You don't know what adult swim is?" and I replied that I did that I just did not have cable so did not watch it and then he asked me if I knew what my tee-shirt meant. I was wearing my black MISFITS tee-shirt with the melting skull on it(the Misfits are a band from the 70-80's) I said yes I did, that it was a Misfits shirt and then I asked him if he knew who the Misfits were and he said yes of course and the woman working with him laughed and said " No you don't". I ordered my coffee and he did not say anything else. From that day forward he has tormented my dog whenever he see's us walking. He is so slow in making coffee that he only works the register now.

My other Arch-nemesis is named Joshie and I actually cross the street when I see him. He loves my dog and knows him by name. He is 2 years old. He pushes down on Chavdar as he pets him. I seriously avoid the kid and I sort of feel bad about because recently he kissed my dog and rubbed his cheek on his back. So I am trying to decide if he should still be my enemy.

So if you do not have an arch-nemesis you should get one. It is fun.

Jesus may need to enter your Apartment.

The above was posted on the entrance to my apartment building? I paused for just a second thinking about, What would Jesus do in my Apartment. Would he check out what was in my fridge and sample the Trader Joes Key Lime Pie yogurt? Would he scan my bookshelf for the bible and be disappointed it was not there or would he pull the often read David Sedaris book, "Me Talk Pretty" down and sit down on my couch and read for awhile. Or would he pull out my photo albums and be amazed as I often am at the many opportunities I have had to travel? Would he like the pictures of me as a vampire's victim laying on the ground in Bran, Romania? Would he wander into my bedroom, open my closet and proceed to try on all my high heeled shoes( I think he would really like the three inch gold ones)? Would he cuddle with my dog? Would he eat all my ice cream? What do you think Jesus would do?

The Best Poem ever

We real cool. We
Left school. We

Lurk late. We
Strike straight. We

Sing sin. We
Thin gin. We

Jazz June. We
Die soon.


This poem is by Gwendolyn Brooks and I have always loved it. I pulled her book of the shelf recently and was reminded of how much I love her poems. Having recently moved to Chicago and actually knowing some of the locations of her poems has also given me a new perspective on her work. I think that this poem is still relevant today.

Cupcakes

When my friend Alex came to visit in May I took her out for cupcakes and we proceeded to eat large quantities of cupcakes. But since that visit I had not had a cupcake( I have been trying to be more health consciences and avoiding the temptation to indulge) But last week Alex talked about cupcakes in her blog, specifically meatball cupcakes, which got me thinking about the delicious vanilla cupcakes topped with the creamiest vanilla frosting you have ever tasted. So a friend of a friend, Vince, recently moved to Chicago from Portland( I have meet so many from Portland in the last year living here in Chicago that it feels like I lived in Portland)and so I invited Vince to meet me for Cupcakes. I had explained to him that two cafes in our neighborhood had the best cupcakes in all of the World( actually voted #1 cupcake in Chicago) delivered from the bakery where they are made every morning. At 3 pm on Saturday we meet for cupcakes. I bought the last two cupcakes, one for me and one for Vince. My friend Diane joined us also well, but did not partake in the cupcake fest(I think she has been turned into a robot because how else could she resist?) Vince and I pulled the paper cups off of our cupcakes and dug in, my first bite was huge and I think I actually purred. These cupcakes are so goood that even words do not do them justice. Diane was laughing and said that she could not believe that we both had just eaten our cupcakes in less then 30 seconds. I have to say that those 30 seconds were possibly the best in my life. If I wish for one thing for everyone on earth it would not be the end of wars and hate but that everyone at least once got to experience that pure happiness that came with eating the most delicious cupcake ever, because who would want to fight or be angry when their belly was filled with such joy.

Chavdar!!!!

Is there anything else to say.

The Green Mill

As cities grow and change over time they lose those things that once made them historic. Too often old buildings are torn down and replaced by condos. It is happening here in Chicago. This once old city made new over a hundred years ago by a fire has been burned again. Everywhere you look new condos are going in. In my block alone two new buildings have replaced old Victorian houses that appeared to be perfectly perfect to me. I love the history of a city where in 2006 I can go and sit in the exact seat the Al Capone once occupied. For this reason alone I have developed a huge crush on the Green Mill Lounge. Once a hang out of mobster Al Capone and visited even by Presidents The Green Mill is a part of history and today it looks just like it did during the 1930's. I went to hear a great band, the Four Charms, play a couple of weeks ago and was amazed not only by the band but the sound they made in that lounge. It was almost like being in history with girls in retro dresses and hair styles and men with pompadours. If you ever make it to Chicago do not miss the Green Mill.