Lay your heavy head to rest.

Consumerism is upon us. Or wait I mean Christmas. Ha. :) Which mean that there will be an increase in trash. When I think about how our society is destroying the planet on which we live and that sending out 26 bags of cans to be recycled compared to the bales and bales of garbage that we put in the landfill it just doesn't seem like it will make a difference. It's overwhelming. And saddening. I guess I need to keep repeating to myself the one day at a time mantra.

I've had my iPod on shuffle all week going through just a teensy bit of my music and Day of the Baphomets by The Mars Volta came on and I fell in love with it. So genius. I've listened to it about 10 times today. Right off the bat it the bass line just pulls me in. And then everything gets going and just entrances me. So marvelously complex. And then the lead singers voice just jumps down into my gut and makes me feel good. My office mate is probably going to come in and smack me on the back of the head if I listen to it again. The last time I found a song that I could listen to over and over again was Reincarnation Waltz, by my friend Patrick Murphy. So good. Music is just so good.

It's sleeting/raining out and yucky. I'm supposed to be getting on a plane and going into Anchorage tomorrow. :( If it doesn't happen I probably won't be going into Anchorage till next weekend. And Amanda is going to be there and I really want to be there. I really hope it clears up by tomorrow afternoon or I'm gonna be one super sad panda.

Someday you will find me

caught beneath a landslide.

I love music. I haven't been listening to it enough lately.

I have been rather crafty as of late though. I've finished a number of projects that had been hanging over my head for a good bit. They were for the most part small projects. And now I have rather large projects looming over me. I will conquer them over the winter as I'm hiding out from the snow.

I don't have anything to say, other than I'm tired and hungry and my head is a wee bit swirly from the beer I over consumed last night.

i love cooking

and i especially love cooking for people. i made pizza tonight and stuffed bell peppers. stuffed bell peppers is definitely becoming one of my favorite foods to cook and eat. especially with caribou. yum. freaking yum. i added some onions and mushrooms to the filling today. i think i should saute up some minced garlic next time and toss it in there. i'm drooling just thinking about it.

lee and odie brought banana bread and blueberry pie for dessert. they picked blueberries yesterday and oh man the pie was so freaking amazing i had two pieces. :) perfy end to the dinner. especially with french vanilla ice cream. i'm really happy that we had two pieces of pie left over. i guarentee you i'll be eating one tomorrow, if not later on this evening.

i haven't been able to cook for the last two weeks because of all the traveling that i was doing. denver for a week and anchorage for a week after that. i don't think i've ever cooked when i've been traveling. which kinda sucks because i end up cooking for the same people over and over again. and i don't think they mind but it'd be fun to change up my audience. and then i would get different opinions on improving my favorite recipes. which i realize is fairly dorky.

i think i'm still uncertain about cooking for strangers but i am mostly confident cooking for friends. i know for the longest time i didn't really feel comfortable cooking for anyone except for myself because i used to rush things and fuck things up all the time. even when i was trying sooooper hard. although i think part of it is that i've relaxed about cooking and just kind of go with it and roll with the punches, sometimes things don't turn out quite right but there are little things you can do to fix them and with enough practice you figure out what they are.

i'm wearing wool socks right now and my feel are super hot.

Things to do

Pick beach strawberries.

Pick blueberries.

Pick salmonberries.

Pick blackberries.

Pick cranberries.

Well you get the idea. :)


Bottle my apple wine and then start blueberry rhubarb wine.

Put fish away with Momma.

Make fireweed jelly.

Clean out sheds.

Beautiful

Previously in my life the word beautiful had only been used to describe sunsets, artwork and amazing math proofs. However, I met a guy or knew a guy or know a guy that used the word a lot in reference to me. This was a very new thing. At first it was a joke to me, but after a good bit of time it became something real to me. The word/idea/concept became defined in a way that was more than the perfect picture or the platonic ideal of whatever you were thinking of.

Maybe my previous friends just didn't like using the word, or didn't see me that way. I don't really know. I do know that certain friends that I have now use the word freely, without thought of gain or reciprocation, directed at me. It makes me feel incredible and so worthy of the attention that I crave and that I seem to get, even when I don't understand how or why.

I need to think about this more and reformulate my words and thoughts.

Music

I can always listen to music and it always makes me feel lighter. Even heavy, dark music, or lethargic music. Something about it just jumps inside of me and strokes the parts of me that aren't normally touched. A certain song comes on and every cell in my body takes a deep breath and feels so red they're almost incandescent. It's incredibly liberating for all that it could be the hundredth time I've heard that song.

Each time I hear a song that I'm particularly in love with at the moment. I hear something new. Or it finds some place new in me to creep into.

Where does a song come from? I know it's written, and it's lived in a person for so long before it comes out. But does it come from every atom in them, moving all together and forming in their brain and heart, flowing out of their throats and fingers. Or does it come from motion and sound and the life that is going around them. Coming in through whatever connection that they have with the other entities that we share this world with, transforming within them to something that has such power over individuals as soon as the notes touch their timpanic membranes.

And music does have power. Tangible power. In addition to having the ability to move a man to tears and turn thousands of people into an impenatreble mass of movement and blood and sweat, it can destroy the sense of hearing, it can bring a forgotten memory to the surface of them mind. It can cause me to fall in love for an eternity, and I am a creature who is only on this earth for a moment.

Oh I ramble. I guess I just wanted to say that I love music with every resonating cell in my body.

A day....

The morning was dreary. Grays muddled with other grays becoming one big blob of gloom that blocked out the sun. The air look cool and damp. As I gazed out my window framed by curtains tied up in knots, I wondered if I'd have anything to do at work. One last glance at the bland sky and I turned taking my sagging sweat pants off and tossing them on my bed. I adjusted my panties and looked at the pair of jeans I'd worn yesterday halfway in and out of my laundry basket.
How many days had I worn them already? Huh... I couldn't remember.
I grabbed them and slid the cracked and worn belt through the loops. The jeans were tossed into the basket, the belt was tossed on my bed on top of my sweats. I pulled open two drawers, one directly over the other. Black socks were pulled out of the top drawer, pulled on and then the drawer was closed. Next drawer. My hands picked up the first pair of pants that came into view. Without unzipping or unbuttoning them I pulled them up my legs and over my ass, or rather, lack thereof.
You see, without an ass there is no need to unbutton or unzip your jeans. It probably saves time in the long run, but damn what wouldn't I do just for a little bootyliciousness. Not an entire pie of booty, but just a slice.
Pulling open the top drawer, I selected a black t-shirt and pulled it over my head, over the tank top I'd slept in.
Black Crowes. Okay. I can wear pot smoking crows to work.
I reached for the belt on my sweats and laced it through it's loops, starting one loop right of the zipper. One handed I buckled the flame and picked up my red shoulder bag. Contents: ipod, planner, wallet, checkbook, eye drops, earphones, and an empty water bottle. My eyes flicked to my desk to see if anything had fallen out. Nope. Down the stairs, ducking under the ceiling and into the kitchen I walked.
"Good morning."
"Morning."
Which is definitely not the type of person that I am. I shuffled around making myself some oatmeal. As the scent of maple and brown sugar wafted through the air out of the microwave, I peeled and ate a hard boiled egg. Some of the egg white stuck to the membrane attached to the shell. What a waste. I drank water. I flipped open my laptop that had been sitting ignored on the kitchen table. Password typed in, I waited for it to full wake up and realize it's potential. I maximized Internet Explorer and refreshed my Facebook page, eternally open and sucking my life away. I had 6 new notifications. Opening a new window for each notification, I scrolled through the most recent updates from the people that I deemed interesting enough not to remove from my feed. Click. Type. Click. Type. Click. Type. Click. Comments were responded to. All but two windows were closed. I switched over to Gmail and refreshed my inbox. No new messages. Great. Nothing to do at work today. I closed my computer and looked at my Mom sitting across the table from me, steam rising from her cup, smile playing in her eyes, the corner of her lips.
"You excited for today?"
"I suppose. I'll be happy when the travel part is over."
We'd had this conversation before. My Mom hates the hassle of flying, especially when she's doing it solo. However talking is important. Having someone care about your day to day shit makes you feel like a worth while human being. So even though I'm not a morning person, I try.
"Yeah. Makes sense. Then you can get into all the fun stuff. Are you going to send anything?" I smiled.
"You wish. What do you want?" Her voice was bright. Finally the morning person had someone to chat with.
"Salad. You know that Chinese kind. Or wait no the Asian kind."
"Yeah, I could probably manage that. Maybe in a priority mail box on Monday. That would make it here. Wouldn't it?"
"Really? You're going to send me salad?" Excitement mounted in my voice. "I bet it's cheaper in Anchorage. I'm sure it'd do fine in the mail. It's not that warm yet." My voice dropped. "Aw crap, I suppose it's that time."
"Work?"
"Yep."
My long day flashed before my eyes as I grabbed a light, zip up sweater from the coat racks. I could see it perfectly. I'd walk out the door, bike to work, enter the building, start my computer, make coffee, and then wish I'd have shit to do. One arm in one sleeve, the other arm in the other sleep. Zip. I picked up my shoulder bag and walked out the door.
"See ya later."
"Have a good day."
What comfort we feel in such silly words said hundreds of times a year, thousands in a lifetime. I felt bolstered with a little leap upwards in my mind, the well wish and the bright air kissing my skin. Maybe today wouldn't be as screamingly monotonous as the previous day. Rocky soil crunched under my shoes.
"Hey dog."
Left hand on the handle bars, right hand on the seat, I nudged the kick stand with my left foot and turned my bike away from the shed and out facing the lumpy path out to the road. Left foot on the left pedal. Hop. Push. Hop. I swung my right leg over the seat and started pedaling away feeling the familiar sensation of my muscles pumping around in circles. Wind caught my hair and I felt wisps loosen, pulled out of my pony tail by it's caressing glances. I moved through space and time, mind roiling with thoughts the entire time.
Will I see the sun today?
Crap. Slow down. Avoid the damn puddle. Shit needs to dry up already.
Should I text him hello? Would he even answer?
There's still too much snow. It needs to melt so I can actually have work to do.
I shouldn't text him. Let it go.
This is stupid. Stop thinking about him.
Is that a rock in my shoe?
I should exercise today. Maybe walk. I wonder if Jason will want to go.
What a cool guy. I love that he's my friend.
I stopped pedaling. My bike rolled to a stop in front of a bright orange post, scratched and rusted. Hands placed exactly the same as when I started, I flip the kick stand down and rest my bike on it. One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. Seven. My mind counted the steps unconsciously as I climbed up them. I drifted through the door, the hall, into my office. I flipped open my laptop and pressed the power button. Too lazy to make fresh coffee I poured day old coffee into my unwashed cup and meandered back to the kitchen. 1:30. Start. :46. Wait. :01. Good enough. I grabbed my cup, warmth flowing from the ceramic into my flesh.
Heat. What am amazing thing. Causes sweat. Melts water. Cooks food. So much more. Another meaning. Heat between two people. The look in someone's eyes when they realize they contain desire. The darker look when they actualize desire. Enough.
My ass settled into my office chair.