Big Fish

I watched the movie, "Big Fish" tonight. The whole movie is great. A movie about stories, tale tales, love, losing love, finding love. Great quotes, "Sometimes, the only way to catch an uncatchable woman is to offer her a wedding ring." I pretty much cried all the way through it. I'd pause, get more kleenex and then the waterworks would start back up. I'm not sure why.

Me, my Christmas lights and a big fish It was actually kinda nice. Quiet and peaceful.

Groundhog Day

In the movie, "Groundhog Day," Bill Murray is doomed to repeat the same day over and over again until he gets it right. Everyday in the movie, Bill steps in this big puddle of slush up to the top of his boot. Finally one day he AVOIDS the puddle. Going to a job I used to drive on I-94 and I'd hit the same pothole every damn day. I'd even yell out, Groundhog Day!" as I hit it. Maybe once in a blue moon I'd avoid that stupid pothole. It took a long long time to remember to avoid it.

So stupid me. I am out to dinner. There's candles, roses, red wine and sweetness. And there's that pothole full of slush. And I step in it. I step in other holes and splash the shit all over the place. A nice dinner ruined by slush. Old gray slush. I could walk around the hole, avoid the hole. But I step right in. It could've been a really great dinner and no amount of apologies can clean off the slush. Just walk consciously walk around it, Drower. Walk around it. Avoid it. Let go of it. Is it just laziness that we walk through it? Because it's an old habit. Because you deserve cold feet? Because it feels more comfortable to be uncomfortable. Because later you replay it over and over and torment yourself and make even more angst.

Someday, I'll wake up to Sonny and Cher and let the slush go. Someday I'll learn. Maybe I've got more doomed days to repeat. Until I get it right.

Pile Your Arms High With Smokes

Pile Your Arms High With Smokes
Originally uploaded by Charm and Poise.

An early Merry Christmas present from me.
And cancer.

LSMFT

Sass, the guard doggy

Sass
Originally uploaded by Debora Drower.

You tell 'em girl. Grrrrr - stay away! We are tired and crabby and in need of naps. Or candy. Or meat. Sass asks, "when are we going to Fogo de Chão??"

I'm Bad

Hanging out with the crotch grabbin' bad kids at Echo's again. What can I say. The kid's table is the best. Someone's gotta make up for the missing Pamie Lou, TM and Carlene.

Mad As Hell ...

And I'm not gonna take it anymore.

Me and Jameson

Me and Jameson
Originally uploaded by Debora Drower.

Cause I drink alone, yeah, with nobody else.
I drink alone, yeah, with nobody else.
Yeah, you know when I drink alone, I prefer to be by myself.

Now, the other night I lay sleeping,
And I woke from a terrible dream.
So I called up my pal, Jack Daniels,
And his partner Jimmy Beam.

Rooms of Love

I have adored this photo, this artist since I first saw this show at the MOMA eons ago. I have my own - and it's also called the Rooms of Love.



Above is my latest shot.


I also shot it two years ago.



I've got to get other people to love it as much as I do.

Fight the power

I heard Fight The Power this morning coming into work. It was good to scream along with Flava and Chuck D because I am stressed. I’ve had too much shit going on and the shit aint stoppin’ neither. Last weekend we went back to Medford, WI to visit Phil and Eleanor’s for dinner and it was so cute. I’ll have to write more on that trip when I’m not in a bitching mood. A friend called last minute for a concert at a lesbian bar on Sunday. Then Monday, a ghost tour in the Halloween Capital of the world. I had to scramble to get everything ready for the Halloween onslaught. I had 130 kids and I was on a sugar high until about 11 pm. A local indie ghost movie (only one showing) was last night. There’s a musical tonight. At some point, I want to watch my Thursday night NBC TV funfest. And then today, I head a friend is having an art opening on Sunday. SHIT! It’s too much. And I owe these friends who’ve come to my shit. But does it all have to be right the fuck now. Right the fuck now. I can’t wait for Sunday night when it’s all the fuck over.

I'm ready and hyped plus I'm amped
Most of my heroes don't appear on no stamps!

Hyped plus I'm amped. Fight the power. Fight the power and say no. No more shit. No more events. No more. Just let me rest.

Time Has Come Today

Fall. Autumn. Funny to use a song about time to talk about my favorite radio stations. I listen to KLBB. The music of your life as they call it. Dean Martin, Sinatra, Mills Brothers. The morning DJ is Reed Hagen. Who has this rich, buttery set of pipes. I just love hearing that if I have to get up early. But they're a low watt station and they have to power down when it's dark. In the summer the sun is up and so is KLBB - at full power. But now in fall, it's dark and so is the station. It's kind of there - just not at full power until it's light. The signal drifts in and out, no rich buttery tones - just fizz. So, I have the clock set to this really annoying station FM107. It's like chick talk day and night. It gets me right out of bed so I can turn it off. There is the ABC news at the top of the hour. Which is better than KLBB's Fox Radio, "We report, you decide." But Reed. I miss my morning cup of Reed.

Also, Radio K, a great college radio station is the same. Luckily there is an FM station. But long ago, it used to be that when it got dark, so did Radio K. I remember one cold dark winter day and the sun was setting around 4 and so was my cool radio station. What a bunch of shit.

But now they're both on the Internet, but I mostly listen in the car or clock radio - so the Internet doesn't help me much. Time has come for fall and winter to be dark and cold. And without music. When I need it most.

Bear bait

We had just come from Medford, WI and saw Phil and Eleanor's steak house

and got great stories. Then on to the Florena Supper club.

The guy comes out and asks what am I doing. I try to engage him but he's not in a story mood.

We go up the road to Prentice, WI and see the Bear Bait Ford. I'm walking around, getting different angles and we decide to go in. There's an old guy on an old couch
And then oddly, James asks to use the bathroom. It's weird. I had hoped for maybe an old service station. Candy, postcards. Old cute retro stuff around. Like a movie set. No, It's got junk. And odd metal scrap. I try to talk to the old guy on the couch but he's deaf as a post. I'm talking loud to him but to no avail. He somehow manages to tell me the Ford sign isn't for sale. Then some other old guys come in and they're talking about the sign - it's now only a few thousand dollars. The creep level cranks up a notch. James is taking forever. I'm sending him psychic signals that we HAVE TO Ghttp://www.blogger.com/img/gl.link.gifO. The woman's bathroom looks way too creepy. I'll just wait. And I'm not that picky. Suddenly, some younger people come in but when they start talking - the weird gets weirder. They somehow know old deaf as a post and get food out of a small dirty fridge. They are off somehow, learning disabled or cross bred and it's like those Diane Arbus photos of retarded people. It's amazingly creepy and now I'm thinking we're the bear bait. We will all be eaten by bears. Me and this creepshow all in some bear's stomach. James FINALLY comes out and I give him the hairy eyeball meaning let's get the fuck out of here. Outside I snap a few more shots, even some close ups of the Ford sign as more bear bait goes into the shop. Chomp, chomp chomp.

Phil and Eleanor's Steakhouse

I had been at an art fair in Wausau, WI. I wanted to take Hwy 8 back to the Twin Cities. We had this notion that we'd make it to St Croix by 6pm to visit a vineyard. Driving through Medford, WI, we saw this sign. Did I want to stop and shoot it? No. We found the little downtown and drove around. Cute. Leaving we could go left and continue or if we go right, I can shoot Phil and Eleanor's. It's not in the sun, but I could shoot it for reference. We go back and pull in. As if we've planned it - out of the restaurant comes the actual Phil and Eleanor. I tell them I love the sign and want to photograph it. James stays and chats with them. I get the shot above. When I come back- they've offered to give us a tour. You can see the whole set here. Eleanor shows off her original kitchen and give us a sample of some toasted bread they serve for an appetizer. We hear stories that she bought the place as a young girl. It had originally just been the bar tended by a crust old guy. She's been making the food by hand ever since. There are some big companies in town and they'll reserve the whole place so you gotta call ahead. You can see the menu and the gorgeous bar with sparkly blue bar stools. I have been pestering James that we gotta go back so we can eat there. And I want to print up all these pictures and bring them along. I worry we'll get snowed in - like in "Seven brides for Seven brothers" and wont be able to get back to Medford, WI. With the pass being blocked. I bet the food is great. And maybe we can get to the vineyard we never to.

Tired

I'm tired - tired of playing the game.

Shopping in Camazotz

This is some old photo of the Chicago Marshall Fields. Back in the day. When you dressed up to go shopping. Hats, dresses. My grandma would take us downtown for our back to school clothes. Maybe we'd have lunch at Fields. With Grandma it was just "Fields." My great Aunt Bobbie also loved to go to the downtown Marshall Fields. Not the suburban ones. She couldn't walk far so she'd tell my mom they'd just pull up to the front and, "God will provide." My mom would imagine the crowds and traffic and would doubt the luck of getting a spot out front. Lo and behold - a spot would ALWAYS be there for Aunt Bobbie. Our family still invokes her name if we need parking space help. I don't know if it would work for non-family members - someone could try and let me know.

Even though I'm 42, I still have that urge right as the air gets cooler, for some new shoes, socks and a sweater or two. I found these certain kind of hiking shoes I like. And I went back to store and they still made them. The same style! That never happens. I fall in love with some shoe or food or a guy - then the next time you want that thing - it's gone. Or different. REI had one pair - but out in Maple Grove. And they don't transfer their stock. Maple Grove is supposed to look like a little town with a main street. A main street with all chain stores. Remember the town of Camazotz from the book, Wrinkle in Time." All these malls look the same. Oh look a restaurant - wait it's a Buca. Donuts - Krispy Kreme. No independent anything. No cute stationery store. Or drugstore. Or indie coffee shop. All chains. Comforting icons of capitalism. And those scary twisty mall parking lot streets that go curling on forever. Not a grid or straight line. I go out there buy the shoes. And then try to leave. I keep twisting around. I see a Byerly's grocery store. So I load up on non perishable food in case I can never get out. Then I see a Hampton Inn. I may have to get a room if this turns into Hotel California (I cannot believe I am quoting the Eagles - and I hate the fucking Eagles) See how bad it was:

Last thing I remember, I was
Running for the door
I had to find the passage back
To the place I was before
'Relax,' said the night man,
'We are programmed to receive.
You can check-out any time you like,
But you can never leave!'

Following a bunch of other lost souls, I finally stumble on a sign pointing back to the highway. I escape. It's a long way back from Camazotz. Although it wasn't my time, I yearn for the days of dressing up, going to a real downtown, grid streets and a big department store. Those days are gone like many of the stores in real downtowns. The twisty streets in the suburbs are winning and I fear it will all be one great Camazotz life style center. Yuck!

Circus of travel

Like Billy in the Family Circus taking one of his “directional paths,” that was how I made it to work today. Thanks MNDOT! Because of the 35-W bridge collapse, they’re adding lanes to I-94 and had to close it. The Marshall Street Bridge is the closest street to I-94. I get in the car on autopilot and get on Marshall. And wonder why in the hell everyone else is as well. And on a Saturday. Oh shit, the highway is closed. I decide to drive a few miles south to the Ford Bridge to cross. And then I have to go north again to get back to work. What slayed me were all these SUV cars driving like babies. It’s like that scene in the movie, “Cars” where they have to teach the scared SUVs to go into the mud. Aren’t they supposed to be fearless in those big gas-guzzling pieces of shit? I have a Saturn Vue – some call an SUV. But I drive fast. Even in the rain. I only wish I had the ability to make that thick dashed line like Billy when he was meandering all about instead of doing what ever he was supposed to be doing.

It's show time folks!

This is me lately, the cigarette in the shower, eye drops and dexedrine. Nah, it's more like three ibuprofen and another cup of cold coffee. But I do pay homage to the movie,"All that Jazz," by saying, "It's show time." When I slam some more pills and speed to keep me going. I can't do speed. Once, in college, I got some. And I was funny. Oh, I was so funny. And then I crashed, hard. Fucking hard. I started screaming at a girl on my dorm floor and she never talked to me again. And I've never done real speed since then. Coffee is good enough. Maybe the Allegra provides a nice ECA Stack effect. And if you feel like getting down to some George Benson - then you can watch some dance tryouts to go along with it.

I am preparing a metric ton of art for some upcoming art shows. It's almost show time. Back to the drugs. And the wet smoke in the shower.

Porky's Drive In, St Paul MN

Porky's Drive In, St Paul MN
Originally uploaded by Debora Drower.

Amy, I'll meet you at Porky's. I so need a milk shake. And someone to listen to me. You always say a Porky's milkshake can cure just about anything. Right? Shit, what a week! I'll probably get the Cruiser Combo and I'll get you whatever you want. Just get your ass over there, OK? Ok? No excuses, no standing me up. It's been a long time so let's do it. It's been four fucking years. Four fucking years. I'll be waiting at one of the picnic tables. Maybe it'll be weird talking to you - I mean I know when you're there even if no one can see you. We'll talk and eat and I'll have a great time talking to you and pretending you're still alive. And still my friend.

love, Debora

Portrait of a young girl

It's a picture of me modeling one of my mom's quilted jackets. I remember reading the book,"A Winter's Tale" where Beverly and Peter Lake are having their portrait painted. Years later, Peter (who then has amnesia) sees the painting and the past is restored to him. As my mom took the picture, I was thinking of Burt, my high school boyfriend. How I'd see him later that night. It was summer and we'd probably listen to my crappy music tapes on the Radio Shack tape deck my dad installed in my mom's 1972 Toyota Corolla. Maybe we'd end up at the beach at Northwestern or the lighthouse. Or we'd just cruise. And while Burt is long gone, I have nice memories captured in a portrait.

Public Enemy and amping

Back in our MCAD days, I’d go to Caroline’s and we’d listen to Public Enemy. There’s a line in the song, “Fight the Power” where they sing, “I'm ready and hyped plus I'm amped, Most of my heroes don't appear on no stamps.” Then we both started using the word amped and no one could remember who started it first. I claimed because she had the album, it was her. She thinks it was me. Either way amped, amping is OURS.

On my birthday this year, I get a garbled voice mail message. I almost delete it. It’s not name I recognize on the Caller id. It is an Austin, TX number. The person is calling from it sounds like a Public Enemy concert. It sounds like the “amped” part of the song. I had to play it a few times. I send Caroline an email wondering if it was her. She was so proud I figured out it was a friend’s cell phone and yes at a Public Enemy concert. And I share a birthday with Flava Flav!!!

Today, I’m the white guy in the car screaming along to Public Enemy. I pull up at work, turn off the music and a black guy parked in car nearby asks what I was listening to. I cannot believe an older black guy would not know Public Enemy. He didn’t. And tells me the singer sounds like James Brown. I break it to him that it’s an old angry rap group. I walk into work laughing. I have to find someone and laugh about a tiny white girl telling a black guy about Public Enemy. Sad. Makes you want to amp about it.

Bad Pants and moon dust in your hair

I had a hideous pair of pants similar to the ones shown. I can remember wearing these pants to first grade. Bad in many ways; I hated how they looked. And they itched. Like fucking crazy. They were wool, so I was in loud pants made me feel crazy and hot. I got cranky wearing them and it caused a day something like in "Alexander and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day." I wanted to kill everyone in my first grade class. If my classroom had a phone in it back then, Australia would've been on the speed dial. No I don't think they have those kind of pants in Australia. I came home from school after that day of itchy, cranky, loud and ripped those fuckers OFFF!!! The next time I had to wear those pants I remembered the shitty day I had wearing them and they became known as, "The Bad Pants." I think there were additional shitty days. As a kevetching Jew, I wore them every chance I could get. Ba dump bump!

Now if I had a pair of magical pants. I look great in them, everyone would laugh at my jokes and would find me utterly attractive. If I wore them, candy would fall from the sky and the the angels would get together and decide to create a dream come true. So they sprinkled moon dust in my hair of gold and starlight in my eyes of blue. Oh whoops, getting all Carpenters on you. It's in your head (it's in mine) so go ahead. Play it. It'll help with the ear worms and the sadness of the bad pants Where are those magic pants? Huh, fairies? Would the moon dust help?

There was a boy, there wasn't a boy

I love this scene from the movie the Prestige. The angry man and what he says to his wife. It kills you. It rips my heart out to hear her ask, "Do you love me?" And he replies, "Not today, no." Oh ouch. Isn't that it. Some days they love you, some days their eyes light up and some days it's a stone cold no, I don't love you today. So why...why? And crying hard, leaning over the sink you think about the how the water would wash the cuts clean if you reached for the big knife in the dish rack.

There was a boy, there wasn't a boy. And you doubt your memories, you deny the truth and hope that maybe tomorrow - he'll love you then.

White

White, the color is very calming and healing to me. I was chanting this last night out on a walk:
White clouds
White
White frosting
White
White light
White
White bright
White
White healing energy
White
White snow
White
White sheets
White
White healing energy
White
White mayo
White
White sheets
White
White curtains blowing
White
White cotton balls
White
White skin
White
White Oreo inside
White
White bread
White
White paper
White
White
White
White
White

Orange Crush St Paul, MN

Orange Crush Laundromat, St Paul, MN
Originally uploaded by Debora Drower.

I am smitten
I'm the real thing
(I'm the real thing)
Won't you be my valentine?
My crush with eyeliner

New Shoes

When I was kid, we had a park nearby. It was a nice park. I can remember this slide. Not a tall slide, not the skinny kind but a wide one. Short and wide. Kinda dumb. And metal. Hot metal to burn your ass off. Maybe it was for the really little kids. But we wouldn't let them play on it. We didn't slide on it - we'd walk up it. Or burn our asses. You could tell how old your shoes were by the traction you got going up the slide. It sucked when the tread was totally worn down and you'd slip and fall. Then you'd have to slide and burn your ass. A bummer on many fronts. Then there'd be that magical hot summer day. The trip to the shoe store. Air conditioned and smelling of leather and shoe spray. I know once I got PF Flyers. Or was it Keds. I took the ad to "run faster and jump higher" seriously. I kicked my old shoes under the bed, put on my new shoes and ran to the park. Or flew. I could walk up the slide. I was the king of the playground. For that day. For a while when you put on your new shoes, they're magic. They make you feel alive. You really could fly if you knew how. At some point, you don't even realize it but the new shoes have become commonplace. Just a part of the scenery. Worn in. Worn down. Sometimes you go dig out the old pair - they're comfortable, worn in even if they are missing some tread. Someday, the new pair, will get old, lose it's power and shoved under the bed.

Artfest Midwest, Des Moines IA

I'll be in Des Moines this weekend at the Artfest Midwest.

ArtFest Midwest Show Times
Show Hours:

10am - 6pm Saturday

10am - 5pm Sunday

Come and buy my work

The Red Tent

28 days ago I started reading the "Red Tent" for my book club. I loved the idea of a red tent – a place for women to go during their period, childbirth or illness. It was the first day of my period when I started reading the book and it’s the start of my period now as I end it. Kinda weird, kinda cool. I’ve always wanted a secret red tent kind of place to go when I’m on the rag. A cool little retreat somewhere – stocked with salty chips, Uno’s Pizza, frosting, premium ice cream, my bed, a TV, DVD player and all my favorite sappy movies.

One of my favorite stories about a period involves Patrick’s sister, Charity. She’s quite an outspoken woman – to put it mildly. It was the first day of her period and she was helping a relative move. Some neighbor starting yelling at her for some reason and she screamed back at him, “NOBODY FUCKS WITH ME ON THE FIRST DAY OF MY PERIOD!!!!” So when I’m getting growly on the first day of MY period all I have to say to those who know me is, “You know what Charity would say….” And I don’t even have to scream. Sometimes it helps. Where is that red tent?

Kiss of Life

This song came up on my iPod. It reminds me of one special magical kiss that was the kiss of life. As the song played, I had this vision, that if...if I got married, I'd have this song play at the reception and dedicate it to the man who gave me that kiss of life.

Guess Who - No Time

No time left for you. No time left for me. I am too busy - I have to take a day off just to clean a little. No time, no time no time. I got got got got no time.

And with time code for fun!

Ain't no sunshine

Except I sing it "Ain't no sunshine when HE's gone."

Any time he goes away. Any time he goes away.

It's the plumber

I've come to fix the sink!
Another favorite from the Electric Company. I forgot how funky their logo was!

Dawn Portrait of a Teenage Runaway 1976 - Eve Plumb

I saw this long ago as an after school special. Jan Brady as a hooker. Thanks Cranky Recaps!

Eggie songs

When my sister was really young, about three, she'd be swinging on those big, old, metal swing sets they have at the park and she'd sing cute little songs. It's probably a standard three year old thing - cute little made up songs. Her songs were always about someone or something called Eggie. Eggie lived in a dandelion is all I can remember of what she'd sing. It was really cute.

I know this guy who sings me Eggie type songs. I have some I saved on a tape, one involves a bumble bee, a bum bum bumble bee and a wigwam. Today I got a cute song along with a great hug and sadly I can't remember any part of it. Only that it was really cute and made me smile.

Trellis

Long ago I had this vision of someone - in a few years from now, we're by a white building - maybe a church or an old farm house and there's a flowered trellis. I had on a filmy, white dress and there were flowers everywhere - in my hair and on my dress. Maybe it's a wedding or something like that. There are tons of people around us, it's sunny and warm and everyone is in a good mood. I don't see his face in my vision, but I can see his shoes. A pair of red Chuck Taylors. And the suit is pinstriped. I reach up in my vision to put my hands on his shoulders. And we walk through the trellis. I am the happiest person in the world. That pinstriped suit is the same on that's hanging in my upstairs closet.

James and I were walking tonight along the river parkway. I don't think he noticed when I grabbed onto his shoulder to see, to check. It's feels like the one that's in my vision.

Thinking

What the hell was I thinking. Saturday, I was feeling crappy and thinking too much. About him. I'm realizing how he'll drop everything for his brother(s) and for me it's an I'll see, let me ask, I dunno, I'll have to check. There's a dinner for my dad I've known about for months - asking him stupidly, do you want to go? I'll see, let me ask, I dunno. Maybe he's just not that into me. So I go to Amazon and pull up the book shown. And ask him point blank, "Are you're just not that into me?" And he knows I've been feeling crappy, moody, and ampy. And what was he thinking when he said. Yes. Yes, you are way more into me than am into you. And hearing the truth punched me in the gut. I lost my breath and my shit. And only regained it when I went into that crying, gasping shit you shouldn't do at work. What was I thinking to even ask? But I had to know.

So what am I thinking, forgiving him, for laughing at it today when I feel better. What the fuck am I thinking?

Ladies Man Love Poem

Courvoisier, Love and the Butt - what else do you need???

Hurts, Doughnut

I'd always fall for that joke in grade schoo; someone would ask, "Do you want a doughnut?" As a fat kid with a sugar addiction - what do you think I would I say. And then I'd get a punch on the arm. "Hurts, Don't it!" And I'd fall for it over and over still hoping that there still might be a doughnut involved. Even a powdered sugar or even a (yecchhhhhhhhh) plain cake. Or maybe a chocolate iced, creme filled!.

It does hurt. My heart, my body, my soul. I'm grouchy and tired and I don't trust anyone.

I'll believe you when I see you there.

Farmhouse

Last year, he moves away,
and it breaks my heart
Then there's talk of
some stupid farmhouse.

I'd ask what about us,
Can we plan a place for us,
instead he'd talk about a spare room
in that stupid farmhouse.

He had planned to come back, later that fall
but he surprised me by saying
he was taking some classes
to build that stupid farmhouse.

He told me once
when it's all built
he plans to live
in that stupid farmhouse.

There's even a woman
with the same dreams
they can share that spare room
in the stupid farmhouse.

Everyday I tell him
to go pack his bags
too bad it's not built yet
that stupid farmhouse.

I have the speech ready
to say what a waste
to give it all up
for a stupid farmhouse.

Kryptonite

There is one substance that is my downfall, something that brings me to my knees. Cheap cake with icing. Honest to god. Also pretty much any sugary baked goodies. But white cake. Ah white cake with cheap frosting. I was out looking for donuts this morning for a coworker's birthday. I stop at two small bakeries. I want the big selection, sprinkles, Long Johns, crullers, the works. I have to resort to Cub. While they do make awesome donuts, it's buying from a Con huge co. I'm filling up the box. And there is a dazzling selection - just as I hoped. Then I see a lady with a huge white frosting cake on a table. She's cutting it up and giving it away. I'm pausing while she gets some pieces out ready to give away. And there's a corner piece loaded with frosting. I can't resist. Oh god, it's good! I stuff it in my mouth while carrying a whole 'nother box of sugary kryptonite. Such sweet surrender. I gotta have a salad for dinner. Just lettuce. No dressing.

Edge of Night

When I was a kid, my mom watched this soap, Edge of Night. What a great name. I remember those spooky black and white credits. Edge of Night sounds ominous. Scary. She and my Aunt Gen watched it together. My mom in Chicago and Aunt Gen in LA. They'd compare notes - talk about the characters.

I called my mom tonight. I gave her the updates on my soap opera life - who was sick, who was addicted, who had what psych disorder, who was on thin ice. All that shit. She told me to write it all down and publish it. Other friends have said the same thing. When do I do it? Do I wait for it to be over, for him to move away, to see what happens?

I've always wondered, if your life IS a soap opera then do you need to watch more?

Once in a Lifetime

When I hear this in the car, I have to do the moves - like in the video. I heard it today and needed a refresher course.

Malcolm McLaren - Buffalo Gals

I used to listen to this in college. I didn't know it had a video. Something made me start singing this at work and I had to find it. Man. The memories of playing this for my roommate and how much she hated it. So I played it more.

Girlfriend

Once I was his girlfriend.
I think it was an accident said one summer night.
Maybe he's regretted it ever since.
Who knows.

I wash the clothes he leaves behind
Make sure there's good liquor
And wood for the fireplace
But I'm not his girlfriend.

I buy food he likes
and work at his company.
Sometimes he takes me to his family's events
But I'm not his girlfriend.

He goofs up sometimes
He slips and forgets
and calls me his girlfriend.
I try to call him on it - but then he clams up.
I forget that I'm not his girlfriend.

He tells other women he's not interested in them
He doesn't want to date anyone
Or have any girlfriends.
But I'm not his girlfriend.

I've been waiting for four years
Watching him move from place to place.
Waiting for him to grow up
but mostly he's grown apart from me.
The girl who's not his girlfriend.

My friends tell me how fucking stupid I am.
Waiting, helping him out
Sleeping with him
Pretending and
Playing house sometimes.

I may never be his girlfriend again.
And that might be my choice.

Addiction / Obsession

From the song, "She talks to Angels" by the Black Crowes;

She never mentions the word addiction
In certain company
Yes, shell tell you shes an orphan
After you meet her family

She paints her eyes as black as night, now
Pulls those shades down tight
Yeah, she gives a smile when the pain comes,
The pains gonna make everything alright

She keeps a lock of hair in her pocket
She wears a cross around her neck
Yes, the hair is from a little boy
And the cross is someone she has not met, not yet

Addiction - being abnormally tolerant to and dependent on something that is psychologically or physically habit-forming (especially alcohol or narcotic drugs)

Most of my friends tell me I'm addicted. And that I'm obsessed. But I can quit at any time. I can walk away. Sort of. For a few hours. I have stayed away for weeks. Only one phone call a day. But it was bottles of liquor (now in my living room windows as a badge, a purple heart of sort) that helped me through. It was vials of crazy pills and smokey piles of sage and palo santo. And knowing it wasn't permanent.

I asked an expensive out of network doctor if I was obsessed. He asked me if I was stalking him. If I just sat under his window and watched him day and night. I wasn't and I didn't. But this guy takes over my life, and I end up answering the phones, and taking the orders. Happily.

But do I do it because I'm addicted, because I'm obsessed? Or is it love?

Perfect man qualifications

Here's my perfect man:

Funny and smart - if you're not that - stop reading now.

I am the top of your list. If I have a really important event and I ask you to accompany me, the answer is not "Uh, I'll see, I'll ask if I can go. Uh, other stuff is more important than you." The only answer is, "Yes, I will be there, you can count on me. You do so much for me - it's the least I can do." With no fucking hesitation. Especially if I have given time and energy to you and your causes.

A gorgeous, muscular, healthy fit body.

That you'd fight to be with me. You'd be mad enough to kill someone if they fucked with me. Or with our relationship.

You'd be amazingly attracted to me. Forever.

You'd be mature enough to have a job you liked, your own house and a car. And money in the bank. And know how to keep and maintain all of them.

You'd have healthy relationships with your friends, family and your self. And yearly check ups at the doctor and dentist without my nagging.

A fucking set of balls. And the ability to use them.

You'd be able to communicate well. With everyone.

The ability to take time off and have fun.

An upbeat attitude.

Patient, kind, sweet.

If you can fill ALL of these qualifications - I'm yours. Not just one or two. Fuck that. I'm tired of second best. Or last on the list.

As crazy as whales on stilts...

As crazy as
whales on stilts
is what
my friends
think of me.

Of wishing
And hoping
That someday
All this
Will
Eventually
Pay off.

Big Bunny Motel, Lakewood CO

Big Bunny Motel Lakewood CO
Originally uploaded by Neato Coolville.

They gotta stay somewhere. Happy Easter!

Moonstruck

Come upstairs. I don't care why you
come. No, that's not what I mean.
Loretta, I love you. Not like they
told you love is and I didn't know
this either. But love don't make
things nice, it ruins everything, it
breaks your heart, it makes things a
mess. We're not here to make things
perfect. Snowflakes are perfect. The
stars are perfect. Not us. We are
here to ruin ourselves and break our
hearts and love the wrong people and
die! The storybooks are bullshit.
Now I want you yo come upstairs with me
and get in my bed!

Kissing A Fool

You are far,
When I could have been your star,
You listened to people,
Who scared you to death, and from my heart,
Strange that I was wrong enough,
To think youd love me too.
I guess you were kissing a fool,
You must have been kissing a fool.

For all of those I've loved and lost

Fish Finder

In the summer of 1988, I was in a deep funk. My boyfriend had broken up with me right before I graduated college and I was still devastated. It hit me hard and I was adrift. At that time, my dad had a sail boat and loved to take everyone sailing. The doorbell rang and a neighbor was there to go sailing with my dad. My dad yelled at me to come and go sailing with him, the neighbor and these guys about my age. I almost said no. I was too depressed. There was something about one of those guys, David, that made me change my mind. He did have a twinkle in his eyes. We're out on Lake Michigan on my dad's boat and he tells one of the guys, David, to grab the rudder and steer. My dad is talking to the neighbor and others on the boat. There was a fish and depth finder on the boat but they seemed broken. It was so erratic, it would show the water to be 100 ft deep then 20 ft then 50 ft. All over the map. So this guy, David has the rudder and suddenly he gets my attention and points to the depth finder. It's not being erratic, it shows it to be something like 50 ft, 40 ft, 30 ft. The keel on that boat was 10 - 20 ft. We were about to possibly beach that boat. Maybe? Or for some reason out in the middle of Lake Michigan there might be a sandbar. Or there's a wreck or something. We're both panicking and laughing but my dad isn't paying attention. I tell David to move the rudder or my dad does while he's talking away. Then the depth finder showed 50 ft, 60 ft and then went back to being erratic. Somehow that moment of doom sealed our friendship. He came back the next summer and stayed longer. There were some sweet moments that next summer. Dinner and driving along Sheridan Road. We've kept in touch for almost 20 years through marriages, divorces, moves and all sorts of shit. He might be going off to war for four years and I wanted to see him. So I flew out to San Jose and we had a weekend of Jameson, ghosts, good food and lots of laughter. There better NOT be a letter that starts, "Dear Debora, if you read this, I've been popped...."

I hope for at least another 20 years of friendship. So that when he actually gets diabetes in his old age, I can get revenge for all the punches I got last weekend. Oww!

Do you know the way to San Jose?

NWA does.

I'll be on little cable cars, half-way to the stars soon. Rice a roni, Ghirardelli chocolate, Fisherman's Wharf, Specs' Twelve Adler, Columbus Ave.
BART. Man, I can't wait.

I wish the man of my dreams was coming along. Next trip.

Flava Flav

Long ago, a good friend, Caroline, and I were out somewhere. Perhaps a Perkins. Maybe it was the time we were certain the old lady in the booth near us just went to the bathroom to pull on the soap dispenser and let the soap hit the counter. It sounded so good, I did it. I went and pulled the on the soap dispenser lever and just let it drip on the counter. We were talking, discussing Public Enemy. We had forgot Flava Flav's name. I don't know how. I had the rhythm of it. Popsy Pop or Fudgy Fudge. Then it got obsessive. What was his name? The guy with the clock in Public Enemy. This was long before the Internet. I told Caroline that it would come to me in 5am. Could I call her? She said yes. That night I did wake up and it came slowly Flava...Flava...Flava Flav!! Oh god,that's it! I reached for the phone but knew she'd probably kill me. I would've. I waited until a more respectable hour and just shouted, "Flava Flav!" She laughed.

Then I found out his birthday and mine are March 16th. Wack!

So on my birthday, I come home to find an odd message on the voicemail. I don't recognize the number but it's from Austin, TX. I can make out Public Enemy loudly in the backround and someone shouting, "Happy Birthday." I listened to the message a few times and thought it might be Caroline. Then later, I found out I was right!!! She was at a SXSW Public Enemy concert wishing me a and Flav a Happy Birthday.

Happy Happy Birthday

It is my birthday today. I didn't grow up in the Twin Cities. But I have friends that did. They'd sing me the sweet Casey Jones Happy Birthday song every birthday (I've been sung it this morning by Pat and by Casey.) And they'd reminisce of watching Lunch with Casey while eating peanut butter and jelly sandwiches and having some Hostess treat for dessert. (That sounds really good.)

At a St Paul Saints game a few years ago. They announced that the actual Casey would come to the field on a real train. Freight trains run right behind the field and often blow their whistles during a game. There were these people behind us in the stands. Really cool and aloof. Nothing was impressing them. Until Casey, leaning out of the train engine rolled up to the Saint's baseball field and disembarked. These punks totally lost their cool. "It's CASEY, oh god it's really Casey. Hi Casey, Hi Casey!!!" It was ok, everyone around me regressed and nearly wet their pants in excitement. And he sang the Birthday song. It's almost like it was my lunch time song too. I found a Real Player clip (scroll or do a find for Casey) and it takes a bit but he does sing the Happy Birthday song. It makes my day. My birthday. Yay.

Happy happy birthday
to every girl and boy.
Hope this very special day
brings you lots of joy.

Hope this birthday presents
you get from Mom and Dad
will make this very special day
the best you ever had

Happy Birthday!

Dear God

Dear God, hope you got the letter, and...
I pray you can make it better down here.
I don't mean a big reduction in the price of beer
but all the people that you made in your image,
see them starving on their feet
'cause they don't get enough to eat from God,
I can't believe in you

Dear God, sorry to disturb you, but...
I feel that I should be heard loud and clear.
We all need a big reduction in amount of tears
and all the people that you made in your image,
see them fighting in the street
'cause they can't make opinions meet about God,
I can't believe in you

From the song, "Dear God," by XTC.

Dear God. Send me a note. In big 72 pt type (see example above.) Because I'm really having a hard time figuring out what to do. What to do with my life, with my love life, where to find my soul mate, what to do with my art, my house. EVERYTHING. If you could help me. If you could speak up. Because I am having a hard time believing that you are there. That you're listening to me. That I have to be in such fucking pain and sorrow. Send the note soon. Ok?

Ruined birthdays

It seems no matter how hard I try, I have more shitty birthdays than good ones. On my very first birthday, it was the only and last time both sides of the family were invited. They were yelling shit at my parents stuff like, "You only love them, not us." It ended in some huge fight. One classic ruined birthday, only one girl showed up. I didn't realize I was the black sheep of my sixth grade class. That one sucked the big one. The year before that, the ceiling fell down in our family room right before my party.

I've had boyfriends freak out, boyfriends admit they want to move away, a divorce, dead friends, and getting lost on the way to a comedy club and then just driving around. Only a few I can remember when Dana, my best friend at my side, making me laugh so hard that juice came out of my nose.

Ophelia,

Ophelia;
She supposedly loved Hamlet, and he rejected her. Hamlet later murders Polonius. Ophelia loses her sanity, and falls into a stream while collecting flowers. She drowns without attempting to save herself.

Romantic or stupid.

Peter's Grill, Minneapolis, MN

Peter's Grill, Minneapolis, MN
Originally uploaded by Debora Drower.

Long ago, Caroline took me to lunch at Peter's when it was in the Foshay. I fell in love with the place. It moved to this spot but somehow they moved all the signs, booths, counters. I don't know how. There's this cool art deco back lit sign by the grill I just love.

I had a cool intuition moment when I went to pick up some slides at Procolor. I knew the slides would have to be redone. And they did. Before I even went to Procolor, I knew I'd have to have lunch at Peter's. It all worked out perfect. I was told at Procolor to come back in a few hours. I parked by the Walker, walked through the conservatory to the allergist. Got my shot, then sat at the counter and felt very big city enjoying a chef salad. I should've tossed my tam into the air on Nicollet. "She's gonna make it after all...."

Ernie And Bert La La La song

The world's best song. If it ever disappears off Youtube again I will have quite a fit of pique! I found it, played it, emailed it to my sister and then it was GONE. Please don't go away La la la song.

My destiny

Valentine back
Originally uploaded by Debora Drower.

After shooting this framed Valentine, I didn't realize this was on the back. It's so fitting these days:

Ah! I could divine
The secrets of your heart;
In all its dreams of loving
Could I know if I have part!
Your words I hear,
Your smiles I see
Yet cannot read
My destiny!

The secret I do long to know:
Beloved I pray thee tell,
The secret if you love me,
Whoe have loved you long and well

Beloved, one whisper
Unto me -
Is it joy or grief
My destiny?

Head On

I woke up this morning with the worst headache on the planet. I thought of going out and buying this shit but I didn't even have energy to do that. I tried some old menthol pain relief stuff I had. I applied it directly to my forehead. Only once.

Breakin' rocks in the hot sun...

...I fought the law and the law won.

I sang that song today as I swung my shovel at the pile of hard snow rocks the plow left for me. It was nice in the sun shine. And all I had to do was clear out the walkway to the street. Still - that hard packed snow is like breaking rocks. I now have massive forearms like Popeye. No spinach required.

March comes in like a lion

This is the transcript of an SNL skit that has John Belushi commenting on March coming in like a lion: I wish I could find the video.

Chevy Chase: Last week we made the comment that March comes in like a lion and goes out like a lamb. Now here to reply is our chief meteorologist, John Belushi, with a seasonal report.

John Belushi: Thank you Chevy. Well, another winter is almost over and March true to form has come in like a lion, and hopefully will go out like a lamb. At least that’s how March works here in the United States.

But did you know that March behaves differently in other countries? In Norway, for example, March comes in like a polar bear and goes out like a walrus. Or, take the case of Honduras where March comes in like a lamb and goes out like a salt marsh harvest mouse.

Let’s compare this to the Maldive Islands where March comes in like a wildebeest and goes out like an ant. A tiny, little ant about this big.

[holds thumb and index fingers a small distance apart]

Unlike the Malay Peninsula where March comes in like a worm-eating fernbird and goes out like a worm-eating fernbird. In fact, their whole year is like a worm-eating fernbird.

Or consider the Republic of South Africa where March comes in like a lion and goes out like a different lion. Like one has a mane, and one doesn’t have a mane. Or in certain parts of South America where March swims in like a sea otter, and then it slithers out like a giant anaconda.

There you can buy land real cheap, you know. And there’s a country where March hops in like a kangaroo, and stays a kangaroo for a while, and then it becomes a slightly smaller kangaroo. Then, then, then for a couple of days it’s sort of a cross between a, a frilled lizard and a common house cat.

[Chevy Chase tries to interrupt him]

Wait wait wait wait. Then it changes back into a smaller kangaroo, and then it goes out like a, like a wild dingo. Now, now, and it’s not Australia! Now, now, you’d think it would be Australia, but it’s not!

[Chevy Chase tries to interrupt him]

Now look, pal! I know a country where March comes in like an emu and goes out like a tapir. And they don’t even know what it means! All right? Now listen, there are nine different countries, where March comes in like a frog, and goes out like a golden retriever. But that- that’s not the weird part! No, no, the weird part is, is the frog. The frog- The weird part is-

[has seizure and falls off chair]

One of my first loves...

...Theodore Wirth. Not the guy but the park that's named after him. When I first came to the Twin Cities, I would just drive. Drive and drive. I'd get lost. I'd end up in really crazy spots. Some places I thought I'd go back and photograph them and then forgot. Ok. On one of those drives I ended up in Theodore Wirth Park.

In Golden Valley. Doesn't that sound romantic. Golden Valley. I have driven in this park mostly in times of turmoil. When I fell in love, fell out of love. Deciding between two loves. Wondering if he was worth it. The Religion of the Pink Cloud was created on a drive through the park.
I have taken new cars speeding around the curves and I have taken countless walks on the paths on and in the park. I was near the park today and thought I'd go for a jaunt. I started out in a grumpy mood. I had thoughts of blueberries and throwing blueberries at real live boys. Then after awhile, I had some great ideas about this new shadow box I'm making. And my mood brightened. The golf chalet looked very Swiss against the snowy background. Making it seem like I was in the mountains somewhere. I still love you, Theodore.

Blueberries and Locomotives

...Were it not for the approach of a train winding up the mountainside. The tracks were just a short distance from where I was, and I knew it was going to go past me.

“As I watched it draw close, I was greatly agitated. I wanted to stop it because I realized that if it were going to come to me, it would have to leave me, too. And because I grieved in advance for its leaving, I decided to stop it, even if it meant that I had to destroy it. Do you know how contrived to do that?”

Peter Lake shook his head to show that he didn’t.

“I was going to throw a blueberry at it,” Harry Penn said in a hoarse whisper.

“I got the biggest blueberry I could find, and went to wait by the side of the rails, stricken with guilt that I was going to slay a fine train, merely for my love of it. I remember that as it came closer and began to bear down on me I was trembling with remorse. At the very moment the seventy-ton locomotive pulled up even with me, I forsook the world, and threw my blueberry at it.


“The next thing I knew, I saw the caboose rushing away into the meadows where I had been afraid to go because there were too many bees in the wildflowers, and the train continued on, disappearing into the bright snowfields at the top of the ridge.

“Never my life have I been so relieved. With that terrible weight off my chest, I skipped down to the hotel, and resolved not to throw blueberries at locomotives.”

I wanted to stop it because I realized that if it were going to come to me, it would have to leave me, too.

Listen, Do you want to know a secret?

Ok, so everyone is going nuts over (it's always good to make a dramatic pause before you say) The Secret. Oprah has had shows about it, tons of people I know are all abuzz. Ok. It boils down to the Law of Attraction. You attract what you focus on whether it's positive or negative.

From Wikipedia:
According to proponents, this law is always working whether you want it to, or indeed whether you believe in it or not. Feelings, emotions, and appropriate thoughts, they say, make the law work faster on your behalf. Thoughts penetrate time and space, acting as "personal magnets" with their own electrical vibration or frequency. These thoughts reach out and grab other similarly charged thoughts, attracting physical reality, which is actually just a more slower vibrating energy frequency; one's thoughts are faster more subtle vibrations of the same energy frequency. Advocates of the law claim that quantum physics confirms the existence of this law.

I saw bits of it on YouTube and on the website above. I wanted to see the whole thing. I went to Barnes and Noble to buy it. The clerks there were mildly mocking me for buying it. And I already knew what it was about. I liked the examples they use, how it's put together and how to use the law of attraction. It was worth it to me. It's so simple to focus on what you want, not on what you don't want. One of the clerks was griping that it's too hard. And you'll have to do work. It's not that hard to see yourself already having what you want. And living blissfully and abundantly. Or you could wallow in your own redundant self pity and get nowhere. Your choice.

Famous people in real life

I'm always looking at regular people and thinking which movie star they resemble. So, I'm at my therapist's office today. And I'm sitting across from a woman who looks like the actress, Juliet Stevenson (the picture on the left) I'm tormented because I can't remember the name of the actress or even movies I've seen her in. I'm going crazy in my therapist's office. Ha ha ha. Going crazy.

My therapist looks just like Rosanna Arquette (on the right) And weirdly, the name Roxanna is the name of the doctor on my prescription bottles. It's not her name. Funny.