Reading for the Summer

My book club has chosen yet another fun piece of literature to read this month and although I am only ankle deep, I am greatly enjoying The Eyre Affair by Jasper Fforde (not to mention that I think Jasper is a terrific name in general and have grown rather fond of it while discussing this author with people at work, the library, Borders, and various other venues about town). It's great to have stumbled on another work that is linked to a series, since I do like reading franchises a lot and have a soft spot in my heart for characters that I become familiar with.

I am also reading a second book, called Brimstone by Douglas Preston and Lincoln Child. Much like their previous books Relic, Riptide, and Ice Limit, this one has also gone off topic horribley and although I would love to just put it down, I am into it 300 plus pages, and feel obligated to finish. Not to mention that I have a special fondness for Special Agent Pendergast, a character that is much like Robert Crais's character Joe, in that he is revealled in bits and pieces that are both tantalizing and frustrating at the same time. You want more, but you like the tease.

My book on tape right now is Clive Barker's Coldheart Canyon with his handome face on the cover. I borrowed it from the library and admit that I adore Frank Muller's reading (it's a shame that the accident left him to impaired to continue his career). The story thus far is not really a classic Barker horror piece and I am struggling with deciphering the genre, but since I am only on the 5th CD of 19, I figure I'll stick with it to see if it can redeem itself a bit further in. I am enjoying the writing even if the plot seems to be thick and plodding right now.

Hollywood Bowl

Last night we went to the Hollywood Bowl to see the beginning of the KCRW hosted series of concerts that will be performed there this summer. David Byrne was headlining and he was absolutely phenomenal! The below was my favorite song that David Byrne performs (from his Talking Head days), well, he performed it on Sunday night along with the band The Arcade Fire. They were rather good as well, although not my favorite of the opening acts. I preferred Sise, who had a more eclectic and worldly feel, not as dark sounding to me as The Arcade Fire.

THIS MUST BE THE PLACE (Naive Melody)~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Home is where I want to be
Pick me up and turn me round
I feel numb- born with a weak heart
So I guess I must be having fun
The less we say about it the better
Make it up as we go alone
Feet on the ground
Head in the sky
It's OK I know nothing's wrong... nothing

Hi Yo I got plenty of time
Hi Yo you got light in your eyes
And you're standing here beside me
I love the passing of time
Never for money
Always for love
Cover up - say goodnight... say good night

Home- is where I want to be
But I guess I'm already there
I come home - she lifted up her wings
Guess that this must be the place
I can't tell one from another
Did I find you, or you find me?
There was a time
Before we were born
If someone asks, this is where I'll be... where I'll be

Hi Yo we drift in and out
Hi Yo sing into my mouth
out of all those kinds of people
you got a face with a view
I'm just an animal looking for a home
Share the same space for a minute or two
And you love me till my heart stops
Love me till I'm dead
Eyes that light up, eyes look through you
Cover up the blank spots
Hit me on the head Ah ooh...

It's really the music to this song that I wish you could hear, I'll have to figure out how to link it here. That really is my next step in growing as a blogger...creating hotlinks. Because the musci just swells aroung you from this song and makes you feel so happy, safe, and secrure. It's very optimistic music...of course a lot of David Byrne music feels that way to me. It makes my heart feel light. Billy Joel makes me feel that way too. I know people are giggling at me saying that, but it's very true. I used to put on "Second Wind" when I was crying or in a bad mood, because how could you possibley resist grinning when he sings, "You're only human, you're supposed to make mistakes", or some such sticky sweet nonsense. It pulls you back into the world. Back from the heartless, lonely, desolate brink and makes you a part of everything around you. I love that music has such power.

Remembering

Many times when I pray on my way in to work I think of the people who are no longer with me and whether they are looking are down on me from Heaven. A lot of this has to do with my belief that they are with G-d and that when speaking to G-d maybe they can hear me too.

There are particular moments in my life that are frozen in my memory and attached to the people that are no longer with me. Often one of my five senses will be activated and I will powerfully be transported to the time, place, and person that I am missing from the past. As I grow older this seems to occur more and more since I suppose the number of people who have died continues to expand. It is unexpectedly bittersweet to me when this happens and these invading thoughts more often then not are cause for wonder and happiness. They envelope in love from the past and although pain of death feels sharp and keen once again, so does the rememberance feel real and the person who I miss is tangible as if I could just pick up a phone and call them. To me it is the newly minted pain is worth the renewed spiritual comfort, if only for that brief interlude.

I have no living Grandparents, but was fortunate to know both my Father and Mother's parents fairly well prior to their deaths. They were complex people, each couple dissimilar and I had trouble when I was young seeing the similar moral backgrounds that my parents came from. My Nana and Papa were born in America and I remember thinking how beautiful my Nana was with her perfectly polished nails, tightly curled hair, and long flowing housedress. They both wore big jewelry that sparkled and made me think they were the richest people in the world. It was partly that and that they had a pool in their backyard. If that didn't signify wealth, I don't know what would have to a little kid.

At some point both my Nana and my Papa owned their own business. It is therefore very fitting that my Mother has her own business as well. That sort of indepence runs in her family. My Nana owned a dress shop, perhaps 2, althought that could certainly have become confused in my mind somehow. My Papa had a paper recycling business, the first one on the East Coast. He drove a Mack Truck with a bulldog on the hood. My Mom still has that bulldog and he's one of the icons of my childhood along with the owls my Nana collected. I like owls, just like she did, I'm not sure if it's because of their wisdom, their rarity, or just something I adopted subconsciously to be close to her.

It was a treat having Nana paint my nails, and I still like having people I know do it today. It makes me feel cherished in some intangible way, like someone cares about the details. The best compliment that I received growing up was hearing my Mom tell me that I had her "Mother's hands".

To be continued

In Between Times

I have no home, not in the true sense you see, but I seem to exist between houses, more often then not in my car or my head or someplace that I deem "in between". My apartment doesn't really feel like home since I am not really ever there other then to exchange clothes, feed my pets, watch a quick movie, or take a shower. The majority of my time is spent at other people's houses, in beds that aren't mine. It might be a hotel room, a friend's place, my boyfriend's, a couch, an air mattress, or even a floor. This has been fairly perpetual for almost a year. It's persisting in making me feel that I ought to be traveling on holiday or walkabout or something more exciting then my usual day-to-day existence.

Admittedly, depression descends when I enter what used to be my daily apartment since it has become such a shell of it's old self. My fault, as I have let it decay and turn into a neglected feline domecil cluttered with clothing and scraps of hastily eaten food, cans of diet pop and dying plants nestled on the surfaces of tables and bookshelves. My distanciation happened by degrees and I am resentful to begin the journey back, yet know that it must begin if I am ever to get over my anger at myself for how far removed I have become from myself. Because by and large the apartment is me in so many ways.

Living out of a car, an urban nomad who has created a trunk full of dispossessions that have never been mined for their worth. It is my mission this week to excavate their wealth from my car and see what memories they hold for me. If indeed, they have any value after their year of hiding in the trunk through cold and heat. Who knows what mysteries I might unveil. I feel like Geraldo at the vault of Al Capone.

The depression has been coming for several days and much as I try to minimize it, I realize the truth of it in my life and am grateful for the perspective that I have that give me the ability to say, "And this too shall pass". Don't get too anxious, don't feed into it, just roll with the punches and everything will be alright.

Selfish Paranoia and Pork Products

Blogging is basically mental masturbation to an extreme level unless you are posting interesting information like some of the blogs I habitually read that are at turns educational, entertaining, frustrating, heartrendering, and unbelievably wild. The medical blogs are particularly exciting (read paramedic or emergency room nursing ones to get some great stories and insights into the troubles this country has with our healthcare system and socio-economics in both the urban and rural areas, enlightening and thought provoking).

However, the aloneness out there is disturbing and comforting to me on many blogs that are opened just to give the writer an outlet to pour their soul into. Their reaching out into the cybersphere that connects so many of use seemingly randomly and invisibly over nothing more then a ISDN, phone or cable line. If nothing else it proves that people are much more the same then different and far more compassionate, witty, bold, crazy, intelligent, and just plain available then I could have ever imagined. Not only that, but there is someone out there interested in just about anything awake at just about anytime somewhere. Including pretty wacky taxidermy that takes the cake for being creative. I imagine that must be a rather messy hobby.

Had some moist and tenderly scrumptious pork chops last night that I did not slave over, but were prepared with TLC by my boyfriend. I suggest to anyone out there who is listening that white meat be brined since that is the best way to preserve the juices of the meat and infuses it with heavenly flavors that will make you float away with each bite.

Seafood and Thoughts on Marriage

No writing for awhile, but I was away at the wedding that the below Bachelorette Party was thrown for. It was held in Syracuse, NY and was a lot of fun. We had an awesome rental car with satellite radio and even though it was a ginormous SUV (Dodge Durango), I really liked driving it and it handled just like a car. The gas mileage wasn’t great, but then again fuel is cheaper on the East Coast.

The food was terrific while we were there too. We had LOADS of SEAFOOD, which made me incredibley happy. There is just no comparison between the Dungeness crab here in California and the blue crab in Maryland. They seem to be two completely different creatures. Wild, I know, but trust me, after chowing down on these tasty little Maryland sea roaches, so sweet, moist and tender, I might have to visit every year to get my fill. My only wish is that there was unlimited time to spend at the table picking each little morsel of flesh from their shells. Oh, and I am now a major fan of Crab Chowder (which is sooo much better then it’s counterpart made from clams). It is a must that I learn to make this even if it is with the canned crab.

Fresh tilapia was delicious and could not be spoiled even prepared by a big chain restaurant that had previously disappointed me in the past. Tilapia is one of my favorite fish which I enjoyed B.L.P. (Before Lichen Planus-the rare skin disease that makes it impossible for me to enjoy spicy food, look it up on the internet if you have any questions) broiled with spicy Chile-Lime butter or sautéed in a pan with garlic, paprika, chili powder, and white wine reduction…oh how I miss the heat. The tilapia was so fresh I though it was going to jump off the plate, and there was enough to share if I were blessed with a clone.

There was so much love in the eyes of the bride and groom that it was beautiful and amazing to stand with them on the alter of the Church and hear them exchange vows. The dedication of their lives to a common goal of support, encouragement, and acceptance of one another in front of friends and family was very sweet and yet a bit surreal since the true marriage takes place over time, not over the course of one wedding day.

The bride comes from a family where her parents have divorced and sometimes I wonder if it is more difficult for children of divorce to believe in marriage as a concept. Or, if it is more difficult for people, like me, who have seen their parents struggle, in a marriage that has been both good and bad. My parents have been married for 37 years to each other and despite some passing threats of divorce during some rough times, they have remained together.

My belief in marriage has wavered and for years I never imagined that the idea would ever appeal to me. I had an easier time picturing myself as a mother then as someone’s wife. Partly I think that may have been because I always knew I could adopt or have a child on my own, but being married takes 2 adults and is something you cannot decide for yourself. Afterall, you cannot fall in love with yourself, have a wedding all alone, celebrate anniversaries with yourself (I think those are called birthdays), nope, marriage was something that I just did not really seriously consider in my teens and early 20s.

Somewhere my thinking all changed, maybe with my best friend from high school or college getting hitched. Maybe with that first trip three years ago to get my first bridesmaids dress. Or maybe I just got tired of being alone with my cats. Nah, that’s not it. I think I just got to a point where I realized that I like being a partner and sharing responsibilities, fun, dreams, and a bed too (and having someone who knows how I like my coffee doesn’t hurt).