Archive for May, 2006

Running my mouth

Sometimes I become acutely aware of how America is full of incredibly horrid, tacky and useless objects. You see them in people’s homes, in thrift stores, at garage sales. An endless array of ugly stuffed animals, sweaters in ghastly shades of putrid, meaningless, plastic trinkets, an off-white bottle shaped like a cat full of foul, old lady perfume.

I look at these things and I think about how all this energy, whole lives even, as well as earth’s resources, went into designing, creating, mass producing and distributing these products when the end result is surely very little profit. Not only is it a waste, but the thought never seems to occur to anyone involved about how sad and meaningless this is. Or are they all depressed? Is this why the pants are in a florid pattern with tentacles that reach out and assault your vision?

There are so many people in world going through the motions, never stopping to reflect or to find meaning (or simply believing that life is devoid of meaning), often because they absolutely do not have the luxury to do it. There are people in charge of factories and warehouses all over the earth, engaged in mind numbing tedium and perhaps they are not even that upset about it. In general, the majority of the population probably do not find much meaning in their work and simply accept the fact that the bulk of their lives is devoted to absolute tedium, and real life happens when the shift is over.

When I think about it, I really shouldn’t get too down about it because, besides the useless products, our world would not run if there were not people willing to do this work. It just doesn’t seem fair or right, but maybe on the positive side, choices and opportunities are sometimes available to those willing to take the risks.

But then again, maybe the world should run differently altogether. In the book I read years ago The Celestine Prophecy, Redfield proposes that our encounters with others are not coincidences. Things happen for a reason, and if we take the time to connect with others who cross our path, we will receive what we need for meaning and growth because we all have certain lessons to learn from certain people in our lifetimes.

He proposes a spiritual economy, where people receive goods and services from others in exchange for the depth of their emotional connection and presence. The idea made me think of Jung and his belief that psychotherapy was the beginning or foundation of a religion that would not be realized for 600 years. Ah. Kooky, new age thoughts.

But I want to remember this idea, if not for the awareness and preparation it could give me to be present for others. That this is what it could really be about, if we are able to open our eyes and be aware. Of course, my thoughts on what is meaningful or purposeful in our lives is subjective as well. Whereas a monetary all-consuming working economy is my idea of useless torture, so could a spiritual economy for someone who would much rather work on math problems than talk to anyone. Then again, maybe in a world like that, no one would need to escape into something because human interaction would much less likely be harmful or shallow.

Sometimes I feel like I’ve missed way too many opportunities to connect with people.

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Ten years old

It’s such a cliche, but like wine and cheese, spending time with these friends just gets better and better with age.

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A million dollar idea

My mother-in-law bought us the 365: No Repeats 30 minute recipe book by Rachael Ray. Last weekend, Steve picked out recipes for the week and every night we (well, mostly Steve this week) have been cooking. Wow, we feasted like kings. So good. And I remembered again how much fun real cooking can be.

I haven’t actually seen Rachael Ray on tv, but judging by her writing style in the book and the picture on the book and the website, she must be insanely chipper. In general, probably pretty hard to tolerate for extended periods of time. But, I wouldn’t mind if she could be installed for only an hour in my kitchen, timed precisely when I arrive home from work. For the next hour she would be all cheerful and asking me about my day and wearing a low cut blouse and cooking something delicious. Even I’d go for that kind of pick me up.

If you’re a good cook (which is not hard to be, just follow the recipe directions and use an oven timer. I think it actually takes more talent to be a bad cook. I’d like to see a bad cook in action to figure out how they manage it) you could probably make a great living doing that. Get hired to show up in people’s kitchens for an hour, be cheerful, and have good cooking smells waft through the house (and let’s not forget the low cut blouse). You’d charge less than what it costs to eat out at a restaurant, still make a killing and people get healthy home cooked meals.

For a while I was getting into the recipe preparation, actual grocery shopping list, real cooking deal and it was going so well, but it’s too easy to gradually slide out of it. I think this 365 no repeats for a year recipe book is going to become our kitchen bible. No more heating frozen ravioli or Mrs. Bud’s chicken pot pie for us for a while.

Tomorrow’s Friday!

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Hump day

It’s Wednesday, otherwise known as hump day. You know, because you’re over the hump and the bulk of the week is behind you. The sun finally came out today after all the rain, so I’m pleased to report that it was a dry hump day. *rim shot*

I put in two hard thinking 3.5 milers the last couple days, but not much to articulate. The essence of those thoughts, perhaps, is really the amazing capacity we have to vacillate between progression and regression. Can we truly chart progress or is it an illusion in response to time and distance? Do certain stressors or situations instantaneously trigger regression, and consequently, painstaking re-recovery, no matter how hard we’ve worked? The most common example is the adult going home to see his/her family of origin and automatically re-enacting old painful patterns, despite all intentions to the contrary. Sometimes the forces in those kinds of situations are incredibly powerful.

But I think we can, if we have worked hard and long enough, reach a point of no return. So that when we do return in body, we still steadily move forward (or at least maintain composure) in mind, and maybe even find resolution we wouldn’t otherwise. This cannot not necessarily be predicted in advance, no matter how confident or hopeful we may feel. The test and vulnerability of the return, then, is rightfully anxiety-provoking.

Maybe it is not particularly clear cut, any progress we’ve made- unless we’ve been daily confronted with the return. Our victories of progress, perhaps, is simply measured in the decreasing amounts of emotional recovery time needed afterwards. And the re-recoveries from regression, though they may feel like weakenings or re-openings, hopefully make us stronger.

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alias

Alias season finale. DID NOT EXPLAIN THE MISSING TWO YEARS.

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I can’t stop with the pictures

I’m not feeling particularly inspired these days, entry-wise. I don’t know what it is.

Rain, rain… The river flooded the small park downtown and flowed across route 7, leaving a bunch of logs everywhere in its wake. I grabbed a picture as we drove by this morning. We are very fortunate we live up the hill from our section of the river.

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Aschi, you ridiculous little yak.

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Nowhere Found rocked Sami’s Pub. Lots of awesome friends came out for the night. Robert and Maggie threw women’s undergarments onstage.

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Time to savor the last moments of Sunday night and go read in bed.

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Graduation day

Today I finally graduated and we went out to eat at the Lincoln Inn after the ceremony. Hard to believe after four and a half years of taking 2-3 classes a semester and working full time, graduation finally happened. Now all I have to worry about is my job. And that pesky state licensing exam.

Come help us save Sami’s from the locals!! Nowhere Found is playing on Saturday. They also landed a gig at the Second Floor in Burlington on June 9th.

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Virginia Beach in pictures, in which I interrupt your reading flow

On Thursday night we drove down to Boston. It seems the longer we live in Vermont, the more shocking it is to leave this small state of 600,000 and realize how many people there really are on the earth.

The next afternoon, after a harrowing taxi ride to Logan, Jordan, Steve and I flew to Virginia. The view of infinite blue from the plane, while pretty, also brings me to the topic of:

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eye debris. I don’t know about you, but when I look at a blue sky, it often serves to heighten my awareness of small translucent shadowy objects floating around in my eyeball. The eye doctor told me that they are debris that become detached and float harmlessly around. When they travel in front of your retina, you can see them against a background (foreground?) like a sky. They are not unlike microscopic creatures you might observe in biology class lab. This always makes me slightly nervous and I watch the debris drift across my vision carefully, because if one starts wiggling around like a paramecium, that’s when I’ll start screaming.

We arrived at Virginia Beach.
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We had a nice, relaxing, damn good time.

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Jordan and Mom went on the ride that Dad and I went on a couple years ago.
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It costs $20 bucks a person. It’s worth it.

Aargh, surrender your booty.
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Blacklight miniature golf in 3-D.

A rueful mirror portrait.

Sun, sand, sea, shells and brain freeze. Life was good.

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A time to run

This is the best time of the year to run. It might be considered chilly when you’re standing still, in the evenings, but not when you run. When you run, it’s perfect. The smell of green cut grass and woodsmoke blend together. The setting sun lights up the hills.

The other day there was a rainbow up from the river. I took the picture from the deck. Rainbows never capture on film very well.

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The Chicken! It hover!

Only one thing to do on such a crazy Monday. Come home and kick back with a pint of Ben and Jerry’s (new flavor: Vermonty Python, it has chocolate cows and cookie swirl). Sweet.

Have you been watching The Office? I LOVE this show. I don’t think there could ever be another show on television that makes me laugh that hard, while also simultaneously groaning and clutching my head. Oh wait, yes there is. Banzai! That show only aired a few times, and I miss it. It was totally offensive to Asians and that was probably why it got taken off the air so quickly but man oh man. There was one scene where they attach helium balloons to a chicken to see how many it would take before the chicken lifts off. Then the announcer exclaims: “The chicken! It hover!” And the answer was like 78 balloons or something. Then the camera remains still while the squawking chicken slowly floats out view.

And then the epitome of bad taste. They decided to find out the answer to the question: “Is Harry Potter a virgin?” The way that they found this out was to take a Princess Diana doll, strap it to a parachute, and drop it from an airplane. Two large surfaces were created on the ground, one marked “yes” the other marked “no”. Princess Diana was headed directly toward yes, but then at the last second swerved! and landed in “NO” And the announcer was yelling “Harry Potter! Nooooo! He not a virgin!”

I was sideways on the couch at that point, howling. Oh, it was hysterical. Bad bad taste, but I couldn’t help it.

Crazy Monday. On days like this, you have to know what makes you laugh and seek it out.

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