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.

Ashes, ashes we all fall down

"Ring around a rosie, a pocket full of posies. Ashes, ashes, we all fall down."

This nursery rhyme began about 1347 and derives from the not-so-delightful Black Plague, which killed over twenty-five million people in the fourteenth century. The "ring around a rosie" refers to the round, red rash that is the first symptom of the disease. The practice of carrying flowers and placing them around the infected person for protection is described in the phrase, "a pocket full of posies." "Ashes" is a corruption or imitation of the sneezing sounds made by the infected person. Finally, "we all fall down" describes the many dead resulting from the disease.

And also, long long ago (before I had this plague of Catholics in my life.) I saw a guy out on the street on Ash Wednesday. He had a mark on his forehad. I had totally forgot it was Ash Wednesday. I almost walked up to him and said, "Excuse me sir, you have a schmutz on your forehead." Luckily, the Catholics I know and love will hear me say that today. "So when are you getting that schmutz on your forehead?" It's also best to say it in a thick Yiddish accent. Why not?

Bee cloud

He is just like this bear,
And a little cloud
Floating in the blue.

I'd like to be the one
to make him settle

down.

Goofus

I trying to see all the Oscar nominated films. I mean ALL. If the Lagoon, LA GOON theater in Minneapolis had had their shit together. I could've seen ALL the Oscar nominated animated films shorts. The "Maestro" played twice and they tried to tell people that's how it was meant to be shown. Nice try, guys. Most of us stormed the ticket counter like the passengers of United flight 93 (see the movie if you need a visual) and we pounced on those bastards. With knives, took control of the... oh sorry...lost my thought.. Those who complained got a free movie pass. Me, included. And there's only a tiny few seconds of "Lifted" online. Who's got an AVI?

Anyway like United 93, it seems there are alot of brutally violent films to watch. Even the animated films had some death. A character hangs himself. Geez!

Is that what you are looking for?

Is that what you are looking for?
Originally uploaded by amber_b..

But how will I find him?
And how will I know it's him?
And where is he now?

Premonition

I've been seeing way way way too many movies. There are some movie trailers, that I already hate. Like "The Hitcher." It's loud and I hate gory slasher films like that. There's also, "Premonition", starring Sandra Bullock. She's tormented because she keeps seeing her husband's death. She also alternately wakes up alone then wakes up with him. It's coming out on my birthday. I will be intrigued to find out how it winds up. Because that's my life. I wake up and I am with someone, I wake up and I'm alone. I wake up and I have a possible future, I wake up and it's a dead end. Which is the correct reality?

I am counting on you Miss Bullock to tell me how you figure it out. It will be great birthday present to me.

Single Girl Valentine #2

Single Girl Valentine #2
Originally uploaded by Wendy Mc.

Check this girl out. She's a great writer as well.

Bitter Valentine

Why not. Happy Valentine's Day from me to you.

Crazy

Long long ago, there were two men in my life. And I loved them both. One was the good guy and one was a dirtball.
I'd play this song and try to figure out which one I loved more. Which one should I be with? I was tormented.

And now I'm crazy for trying and crazy for crying and I'm crazy for loving you.

Battery Fairy

Ok magic battery fairy. Be nice and let me make it to my destination today. I promise not to do weird stuff like start the car in reverse. But I swear Miss Fairy the battery was dead. Uh, oh and please DON'T leave me a battery under my pillow - thanks.

Violins on tv

Emily: Whats all this fuss I keep hearing about violins on television? Now why dont parents want their children to see violins on television? Why, I thought the Leonard Burnstein concerts were just lovely. Now, if they only show the violins after 11:00 at night, the little babies will all be asleep. And they wont learn any music appreciation. Why, they'll end up wanting to play guitar, and bongo drums. And go to Africa and join these rock and roll outfits. And they wont drink milk! (Slams fist pn desk.) I say there should be more violins on television! (Chevy taps her on the shoulder.) and less game shows! Its terrible! the way they...what, what?!

Chevy: Miss. Litella, that was violence on television. Not violins. Violence.

Emily: Oh, well thats different.

Chevy: Yes.

Emily smiling: Nevermind.

I may have been seeing alot of violent movies. Or violin movies. Ha ha ha.

Service Station

Signal Service Station
Originally uploaded by Roadsidepictures.

I feel lonely like this gas pump. The Oscar nominated movies are dragging me down. And I haven't even seen Apocalypto. That's supposed to be one violent film. I'll just double or triple up on the meds. And bring a flask to spike my drink. Or bring Ryan Gosling's character from "Half Nelson."

Leaving on a jet plane - not yet

I had hoped to be taking off to visit a friend in San Francisco. I was checking in on Spec's Twelve Adler Museum Bar where I was taken to zillions of years ago. I will always be in gratitude for a bad date and finding a great bar. And it is my all time favorite bar. In the world. Honestly. I was planning on taking Route 66 there and maybe the Lincoln Highway back. And then the plans changed (which is why I didn't get a plane ticket to begin with.)

If I could do that route alone, I'd be the one to drive through the snow and the mountains. And I'd have new memories to replace the old. It would be only me. My old memories seem to do me no good.

I was hoping on that on Valentine's Day that I'd take a bunch of gumball machine rings and throw them out the window somewhere along I-80 and never look back. Maybe I'll still go.

Amy Louise

Back in 1984, when Purple Rain was released, I was in college, at UW Stout. I had just gotten to know this girl in my dorm, Amy. She talked me into seeing Purple Rain at the State Theater in Menomonie. It was great. We were both big Prince fans and the live music in the movie really rocked. She was a motorcycle nut and she loved seeing him ride. I know we went back a few times to see it. We'd drag other people to it but they didn't love it as much as we did. Watching Prince tonight as the Super Bowl took me back to seeing Purple Rain with Amy. I hadn't heard live Prince probably since the movie. It took me by surprise and made me cry. Really hard. It's been three and a half years since she's been gone and I really miss her.

Fuck you, you fucking fucker! And I mean that with all my heart.

Ice House - Crazy

I had the cable hooked up to my stereo in my tiny apartment
in college. I used to make audio tapes from that hook up. My tapes would be of the music videos. I remember having this one. I had forgot why the DJ-like opening.

And I used to sing this and think of my boyfriend, Jake, far away in Milwaukee. I thought he was crazy for dating me and eventually he left.Geez, where is he now?

Where The Streets Have No Name

The video rocks and it is my all time favorite song.

It's best to listen to it in a car when you can crank up the sound and the accelerator. The back roads in Wisconsin work well. If you are on Cty Rd B - it's both deserted and unnamed.

Thin line

Storming around this afternoon, I hated everything. Everyone. The whole world sucked. I came home to find happy families on Oprah. I actually hoped she'd have a depressing show. If I'd had a gun, my tv would be dead. Just pissed off and mad. Fuck you world.

Then after a nice phone call, where no one got mad or upset I was in love again. But how long will it last?

Simple Kind of Life

The lyrics from the song, "Simple Kind of Life."

For a long time I was in love
Not only in love, I was obsessed
With a friendship that no one else could touch
It didn't work out, I'm covered in shells

And all I wanted was a simple thing
A simple kind of life
And all I needed was a simple man
So I could be a wife

I'm so ashamed, I've been so mean
I don't know how it got to this point
Ooh I always was the one with all the love
But you came along, I'm hunting you down

Like a sick domestic abuser looking for a fight
And all I wanted was the simple things a simple kind of life

Oh if we met tomorrow for the very first time
Would it start all over again?
Would I try to make you mine?

I always thought I'd be a mom
Sometimes I wish for a mistake
The longer that I wait the more selfish that I get
You seem like you'd be a good dad

Now all the simple things are simply too complicated for my life
How'd I get so faithful to my freedom? A selfish kind of life
When all I ever wanted was the simple things a simple kind of life

The Little Engine That Could

The Little Engine That Could
Originally uploaded by Roadsidepictures.

But I don't think I can. Not for all the scotch in the world.

Luck be a lady tonight

I used to play this song before dates with a certain guy. He was (and still is) hard to schedule.Sometimes I'd have little or no warning if he was free. So when I got the word - I'd play this. I hope I get lucky tonight!

We'll be together tonight

Yes we will!

Mom's blue bowl

mom's blue bowl
Originally uploaded by Debora Drower.

This old bowl has been around as long as I can remember. You can see it's a bit worn but well loved. It's held chips and nice fruit. Mom always asks if we want some nice fruit for dessert.

I've been trying to make a bowl with blue stripes. A woman named Agnes Gonk Bojaxhiu is my inspiration. Maybe this blue bowl has been hinting at me to create something my whole life. Or it's just a blue striped bowl.

All Grown Up

I have been putting off getting insurance quotes. My current rates are massively high yet being a lazy ass I've been knowingly paying too much. So before I renew my current insurance, I've been doing that online insurance quote shit. And talking to agents as well. All grown up like. And for that I found a great Calvin and Hobbes that celebrates the adult world.

Dear Oscar

Friends know I quote the director of the Oscar winning movie, "Kolya." When he won his Oscar back in 1997. He had this cute, Dear Oscar, speech talking to it personally because it had kept him up all night. He'd pronounce it Uhs Car. I love to say it like that. And this Tuesday, the Oscars nominees will be announced. It's the only awards show I watch.

To celebrate another Oscar, here's a fave of mine is the kid above - (A young Scott P.) I hope the Oscar Mayer folks don't get mad. Oh Uhs Car!

You Are In My System

Cool story, My clock radio alarm goes off and Robert Palmer's, "You're in my system," starts playing. Usually I am so groggy in the morning. This song rockets me out of bed and I stand by my shitty clock radio listening to it. But it's early so I don't write down the artist, album. Later that day, after school, I'm at my local record store. I go to the counter and tell the guy I heard this song on the college radio station and it was so cool. He asks what time I was listening. Around 7 am or something like that. And he tells me it's Robert Palmer. Oh, were you listening? No, I was the DJ this morning. Whoa!!!!!!! Cool.

And yes, silly boy, you are in my system and I can't seem to flush you out.

And now the lyrics:

Day by day and night by night
I feel you in my mind
It happens all the time
You know the day dreams stop
My heart beats on
I can’t take it any more
It's you I live for

You are in my system
You are in my system
I just want you to know that,
You are in my system

You oooohhhh you’re in my system, system
Don’t you, Don’t you, don’t you know that, babe.

I will keep on pushing, pushing, pushing
Until I get through
My main objective baby is to get to you
To turn your mind around
I know will take time
But you know I can wait, now
You’re on my mind

You are in my system
I just want you to know that,
You are in my system
Got me burning, I’m on fire
You, you’re in my system
You’re everything I need
You, oooohhhh, you’re in my system, system
Don’t you, Don’t you, don’t you know that, babe.

It’s a romantic vision of me and you
It happens all the time
My dreams are filled with you
There’s no doubt in my mind
That I’ll be true baby
You know I’ll take you out
And I’ll keep lovin’ you

The cup of life

This song, The cup of life, is dedicated to the love of my life, coffee. The cup of life. Honestly. And I love this Spanglish Version. It's so pixelated that it's kinda cool.

Can't Be Without You

These are some of the lyrics to Mary J Blige's "Be Without You."
She says/sings it better than I ever could.

Chemistry was crazy from the get-go
Neither one of us knew why
We didn't build nothing overnight
Cuz a love like this takes some time
People swore it off as a phase
Said we can't see that
Now from top to bottom
They see that we did that
It's so true that
We've been through it
We got real shit
See baby we been...

Too strong for too long (and I can't be without you baby)
And I'll be waiting up until you get home (cuz I can't sleep without you baby)

Joseph Cornell and me

One my earliest memories of going to the Art Institute of Chicago was going to see an exhibit of Joseph Cornell. His shadow boxes then were shown in this darkened room in a hidden corner of the Art Institute. I can remember how moody and dark it was - yet these shadow boxes even to me, a young child, were fun and playful. I am trying to make my own and I feel that they are unsucessful. I am struggling with new tools I received as Christmas presents that should be helping me make better shadow boxes and yet... And yet I'm stagnant and scared. Scared of making shit or worse of not making anything at all.

Me, The Blob

I am sitting here on a lazy Sunday being a blob. Do I go out, go to an art gallery, a museum, a walk, nap. I just don't know. I am so indecisive.

So I thought if I paid homage to some great film blobs like the stinky brother in Weird Science, Jabba the Hut, the movie, The Blob, and a cute illustration of a blooooooob. It would be like praying to saints - I'd feel either more or less blobby. Oh great blobs, help me. Help me become even more stagnant or help me escape my blobdom. Blob blob blob.

Yeah, babe

Male A-Hole: All right, we got it, buddy. Where ya wanna go, babe?

Female A-Hole: England.

Travel Agent: Okay, England's great, it's a big place. There's, uh, London. Brighton's very nice. Did you have someplace in mind?

Female A-Hole: I wanna go to Hogwarts.

[laughter]

Travel Agent: You mean from the Harry Potter books?

Male A-Hole: Yeah. You guys got trips on magic school?

Travel Agent: Sir... that's not a real place.

Male A-Hole: Mm-hm. All right. They don't go to there, babe. Probably gotta go online for that, right, somethin' like Orbitz or somethin'?

Travel Agent: NO, it's a fictional place. You cannot GO there.

Male A-Hole: Right, right, right, gotta wait till summer, the wizards are outta school, right?

Travel Agent: No, never. It's impossible. You can never go to Hogwarts; it doesn't exist.

Male A-Hole: It's invisible, right.

Travel Agent: Look, you obviously don't know where it is that you want to go, so why don't you go home, and think it over, and come back when you've made up your minds.

Female A-Hole: I wanna go there.

Travel Agent: Where?

Male A-Hole: Where ya wanna go, babe?

Female A-Hole: I wanna go there.

[She points to the wall behind the travel agent. CUT to a framed poster of an airliner in flight.]

Travel Agent: Ma'am, that's a poster of an airplane.

Female A-Hole: I know. I wanna go there.

Male A-Hole: Yeah, we wanna go there. How much?

Superfreak

"Come on," he said, "What freaky things do YOU want to do?"

You know the freaky things I want, but you'd be too scared.

"Not that little house, with the pine trees - aw shit, baby, that is way TOO freaky!"

Big City

I had to get up and get my boobs mashed in a parking lot by the U. Or at the delightfully named Cancer Center. Uh um thanks. Geez, I hope not. It sucked - but the upside is that it only hurts for a bit. Alot of women don't get them for that few minutes of pain. I told the lady it would hurt alot more to get them cut off. She agreed.

I was up and out so I went to the allergist at the Medical Arts Building. I love that place, it has all sorts of gold accents and fixtures. That blue ceiling. You'd swear there were constellations in that ceiling (Right, Peter Lake!) And hidden away are these cool 3d letters. Anyway, walking around Minneapolis, it felt like I was in a bigger city, like New York. That energy, the sparkle. I was walking fast and no one could stop me. If the sun had been out, the sidewalk in front of the Hilton would've been sparkling. The only other place I've seen sidewalks like that is in New York. Says George Benson:

They say the neon lights are bright on Broadway
They say there's always magic in the air
But when you're walkin' down that street
And you ain't had enough to eat
The glitter rubs right off and you're nowhere

Candygram

When I called to schedule my yearly mammogram I got a bit concerned, the OB-GYN receptionist said the mammograms are being done in a parking lot by the U. I'm just worried I'll be cold - being outside and shit. The guy looks like a real doctor, right? Oh wait, I am not that tall. I hope he can bend down.

As I type this, I hear Chevy Chase on Saturday Night Live saying, "Candygram" (hint hint)
or "Mammogram." You know - all deadpan.

Eve's Bayou

/a>.
In the movie, Eve’s Bayou, Eve’s psychic aunt has a premonition
(I kept seeing you and someone by the sink.)
About some children dying near their house.
(It haunted me ever since you told me you were leaving.)
Eve and her sister and not allow to go out of the house for fear of death.
(I was so scared and angry.)
She and her sister are getting cagey.
(Is it just paranoia or would it really happen?)
A few days later, there’s a car crash and
I think some kids die or are hurt in the wreck.
(That kiss by the sink.)
Eve and her sister are ecstatic.
(And then all that anger and worry floated away)
They run outside and start dancing around.
Finally, the premonition came true.

Alive in the superunknown

There's this guy who calls me. When he calls, the Caller I.D. registers as unknown. When he called tonight, I had this song playing in my head. I tried to sing it quite unsuccessfully. And it fits at the moment. I have no idea what will become of us. I have my hopes and dreams. There was a really great dream last night like a Thomas Kinkade picture. Sappy as heck. I knew it was him with his pinstripe suit and red Chuck Taylors. I was dressed as a fairy barefoot and decked with flowers. Super and unknown.

Playing with my heart

Going to MCAD, I was in film 101. Usually you took your camera to a coffee shop. Shot your friends being assholes and then you played a Cure song to go along with it. Or as one girl did, shoot some totally out of focus shit and hand in the raw footage you just picked up from the camera store. The teacher was raving how cool it was as she told her friend sitting next to me, she didn't know how to focus the camera.

To be different, I had my dear friend, Ken, create some original music for my piece. We shot it out in Chaska in some abandoned creepy hospital. It was about 30˚ and I froze my ass off. Ken remembered some of the cool shots.
Lately, Ken was bugging me to dig it up. I realized at some point I had it transferred to 3/4 tape. I don't know when. It was synced up with his sound and everything. I was scared to watch it - would it be great or a piece of shit. I think it's even better than I remember. I am really proud of it. Dearest Ken has a 3/4 deck and he did the transfer to digital. He even had the soundtrack in his collection. I'm glad he kicked my ass to find it and I kicked his ass to digitize it. Yeah, team!

And watch his tribute to Sean Connery. I love it.

Christmas

My friends were asking me what I was doing for Christmas, would I go visit my parents or my sister. No. I would be spending Christmas in a Catholic Worker house. I grew up in Jewish house. And we barely celebrated any Jewish holidays. My dad would say we were food Jews – only celebrating holidays that included food like Passover and Chanukah. Maybe because we were barley Jewish was why I craved some sort of real holiday tradition. I ached for a Norman Rockwell Christmas. Until my teens, my dad was involved with his plastics company, and every winter holiday time, he’d drag us to some South American company to sell plastics. It also made for a nice vacation. But it’s hard to celebrate any winter holiday when it’s 90º out and you’re in some weird country.

I eventually married a Catholic man with a big family. He took me to his mom’s house in St Paul and there in the living room was a huge tree with those big old-fashioned lights on it. They even had a fireplace. My eyes welled up. It was perfect. I celebrated quite a few Christmases in that house. The one downfall was seeing the ton of gifts each kid got. They’d get all wound up, tear open the presents and cry about the ones they didn’t get. I’ve seen that scene repeated in many different family occasions. I’ve seen some really cynical kids tear open the wrappings, give almost a yawn and go on the next present. No excitement, no glee, they’d add it to their monstrous pile. Great.

For the past few years, I’ve been going to a Catholic Worker house. It’s a sort of homeless shelter. They invite past guests, their kids and people of the community. There’s a big dinner with all the trimmings. Then a great Santa, with a real beard comes from upstairs. He rings his sleigh bells and descends the staircase. All the children gathered there look up in awe. “Santa, Santa, Santa!!!” Each person there gets a gift. The volunteers try to find something the guests really need or want. And the looks on everyone’s faces are priceless. Everyone enjoys the few things they get and doesn’t lament the things they didn’t. I saw two women drape the new handmade blankets they received around their shoulders like super hero capes. “Is this mine? Is this really mine, do I really get to keep it?” They asked this over and over – incredulous. They told stories of sharing only one toy or of having nothing. And they’re amazed at this bounty of riches. And they get to keep it. I think that’s what Christmas is all about.

At a dark bar in Minneapolis

dark bar
Originally uploaded by NYC Tom.

On a lonely Thursday night
Six hours
$80 bar tab
Balled up napkins

Laughter
Tears
Old wounds
Frustration

I’m sorry she’s so immature.
I’m sorry he’s confused.

Maybe she’ll come back.
Maybe he’ll figure it out.

And we wait.

Houston, do you read me?

No reentering ship has ever
taken longer than three
minutes to emerge from blackout.
This is the critical moment.

Will the heat shield hold?
Will the command module
survive the intense
heat of reentry?
If it doesn't,
there'll only be silence.

Flight, that's three minutes.

We are standing by for acquisition.

Copy that.

Odyssey, Houston.
Do you read me?
Odyssey, this is Houston.
Do you read?

Expected time of reacquisition,
the time when the astronauts...
were expected to come out of blackout,
has come and gone.
But all any of us can do now
is just listen and hope.
We're about to learn whether or
not that heat shield,
which was damaged, as you remember,
by the explosion three days ago,
has withstood the inferno of reentry.

Odyssey,this is Houston.
Do you read me?
Odyssey,Houston.
Do you read me?

Three minutes, 30 seconds.
Standing by.

Odyssey,Houston.
Do you read?
Odyssey,this is Houston.
Do you read me?

That's four minutes,
and standing by.

Odyssey, uh, Houston.
Do you read?

Hello, Houston.
This is Odyssey.
It's good to see ya again.

Odyssey,Houston.
Welcome home.
We're glad to see ya.

From the movie, Apollo 13

Radio Silence - Observe

I have to take my computer in for repair. Sadly, I will observing radio silence for how long - I don't know.

That expression is also used in films when everyone has to shut off their walkie talkies. I always loved when they'd announce radio silence.

Blueberries (for Grandpa)

This is a great book I don't think I owned. I read it in school. And the illustrations are great.
Since the book is about a girl looking for blueberries I thought it fit well.

When I was young - many Friday nights, until my grandpa died, were spent at my grandparent's bungalow in Chicago. We would celebrate Shabbat. My grandparents lit candles and said the prayers. My grandma would serve dessert on square, blue glass plates. I have similar plates as an homage to her. Right before we would leave for the long trek home, grandpa would run and get us a jar of his, "grandpa's blueberry jelly." It really was jam. Why we said jelly, I don't know. Jelly is made from the juice and jam from the whole fruit - which is what he made. At one point, Grandpa got his wild blueberries from what he said "the hillbillies of Indiana." That's one story. He made it himself and it was heaven. If we stayed overnight at my grandparents house, we'd wake up and have his fresh squeezed orange juice, whole wheat bread, cream cheese and grandpa's jelly. I'd watch him spread the cream cheese and jelly really thin. Delicious. He was always in good shape and athletic. I think of how thin he spread everything.

After he died, I begged my mom to carry on the tradition. A few years later, she found a place that had good blueberries and she started making the jam. My sister, a chef, makes a mean jam but my mom thinks hers is better! If they both want to send me jars and have me do a taste test - well then! Actually, they're both very good.

When I smell the whole wheat bread toasting and I get out the jam, it brings back sweet memories of my grandpa who's been gone since 1977.