Dem Bastards.

Don't forget -- Bastard Sons of Johnny Cash, live at the Zoo Bar, Friday night!

Or at the Waiting Room in O-Town on Saturday!

Be there or be ... you know ... not there ...

Me, I'll be there!

... and to all a good night.

------------

Hands down, my favorite Christmas tradition is listening to David Sedaris read his piece "6 to 8 Black Men." In searching for an online version to share with y'all, the best I could come up with is this -- it's in three parts, and it has ridiculous and unrelated video, but it's the Carnegie Hall version which I find makes me particularly giggly.

http://araclip.net/six+eight+black+men-cLiPsbJpRLhaSqs.html
http://araclip.net/six+eight+black+men-cLiPvU1D1HKTDCY.html
http://araclip.net/six+eight+black+men-cLiPg17Pl7MFMco.html

Warning: May not be child appropriate. Enjoy ... and consider it your Christmas gift from me this year.

------------

But wait! The lliterary geek holiday video fun doesn't end there!

Grammar Girl offers a hilarious video -- lyrics included! -- entitled "Grammar Got Run Over By a Reindeer."

Warning: You may become more gramatically correct as a result of listening to this.

------------

My favorite Christmas card this year was handcrafted by my next-door neighbor, who has three little ones. The quote on the card is courtesy 5-year-old Gus:

Christmas smells kind of like,
well ... outside, in Christmas,
it kind of smells really good.
Like some days,
when there isn't snow,
it smells like snow is already here.

May you all have a festive, stress-free holiday ... and here's wishing for a more peaceful 2008.

------------

It's all downhill from here.

The days will begin getting longer again.

I'm not a religious person, but I do make note of the solstices. I like to get up early and pay some conscious attention to the cycles of nature that get us through everything. It's a tradition I started on a beach in Mexico at a pivotal time in my life, and it seems to carry me through every season. To remember all that has been so good, and to remember that everything ebbs and flows.

The precise moment of solstice was 12:08 a.m. central time. So, without even realizing it, I passed solstice by talking on the phone with one of the sweetest souls I know. Good karma, I think. Looking forward to being in this time and place next weekend.

I'm awake early, and alert, but with the sweet luxury of being able to burrow back under the covers and roll back into sleep.

------------

Last night was my last chance to catch the Tijuana Gigolos. Managed to squeeze into the Zoo just in time to hear them finish their last set. Not a bit disappointed, though ... you know how you need to be in a certain mood to hear certain kinds of music, or to have a certain experience? I wasn't in a Zoo frame of mind anyway.

Instead, the mood I was in last night matched the people I caught up with ... some of my favorite people in the world. Discussing music and politics and scatology and Dueling Penguins and family dynamics and the future and everything else there is to discuss.

Happy birthday, Podunk! And happy holidays to my book-clubbing chicas ...

------------

Politically, I'm not a fan of Hillary Clinton. I want an unapologetic progressive who doesn't equivocate on the need to get out of world conflicts. And is electable. Pipe dreams, and I don't even have a pipe.

But this Ellen Goodman column really pisses me off. Going off on Rush Limbaugh going off on how America can't handle a Miz Clinton presidency because she's getting older ... and no one wants to see a woman getting older.

She's a year younger than our current president. And only four years older than Limbaugh, who of course is such a treat to gaze upon.

Didn't hear him talking about Thompson's grizzled jowls or McCain's age spots.

How old was Reagan, again? And Bush I? And most of Congress?

Just some political ranting to start my day, get my own gray-haired, crow-footed juices flowing ...

Waiting for Peace.*

(Warning: TMI alert!)


*Cribbed the title from some Peace Corps-related Web site. I like the double entendre.

The wait continues. My doctor called today. The pap smear came back from its second round of testing, and now I need a colposcopy ... the technical term for rummaging around up in my kootchie to look for any signs of cancer. Biopsy some tissue. It'll take about two minutes, and then another week or so to wait for those results.

I assume they'll be the same as last year's. A few cells of a low grade of a high-risk HPV strain. No cancer; not even any precurors to cancer. By my age, something like 80 percent of the population has had HPV come and go without even knowing it. Nothing, really, to worry about.

And I'm not -- not about that, anyway. Just really tired of being tested, in every sense of the word. I'm no longer afraid that high-risk HPV alone would eliminate me from PC consideration. But it's hard not to wonder whether something else is wrong. It's hard not to freak out about all the money this is costing me. And I don't know if you know this about me, but I'm not the most patient person in the world. ;-)

I'm ready to move on in the world, but the world's just not ready for me yet.

Called half a dozen people tonight; got half a dozen answering machines, and even my mommy hasn't called me back.

So I seek other diversions and go to bed early, referencing Tom Petty and Scarlett O'Hara.

Ice capades.

A week ago, when my sister-in-law mentioned she needed a second adult to take a group of Girl Scouts ice skating, I enthusiastically volunteered. Then I remembered that the last time I went ice skating, I was younger than these 8-year-olds ... and it was on double-bladed skates. I was sure I'd spend the day gripping the railing, the evening nursing my bruises.

To my surprise, ice skating apparently is a lot like riding a bike. I'm not saying I didn't wobble a bit, but I managed to quickly get up to speed, then picked up speed and even negotiated a couple of slow twirls. Even more surprising, I didn't go down once -- no bruises, no swelling.

Best part of the day: Five third-graders giggly and fearless even when they fell -- especially when the fell. They got right back up and kept going. They held each others' hands. They laughed at themselves. They ignored the cold. They were so in the moment, and into the moment.

Lovely setting, too ... surrounded by Mahoney State Park's rolling, snow-covered plains.

Anyone want in on a post-New Year outing? I'm dying to go back.

--------------

In more adult entertainment: I've spent the past few days indulging a new addiction.

Insomnia, uncured by books, drove me to iTunes in search of something mindless to download and watch in bed. Right away I found a show I'd kept hearing about and had avoided because I knew I'd get hooked right away.

That's right. I'm addicted to "Weeds."

The first taste wasn't free, but it was only $1.99. After that, though, I had to buy my own bag -- the entire first season. For season two, I managed to mooch off Miz Amy.

But now my whole stash is gone. I went through two seasons in three days. And my next fix is nowhere in sight.

No worries, though. I can quit anytime I want.

Does it snow in Africa?

On Kilimanjaro, sure, but I'm betting it doesn't wherever I'm going. Which is good. I've shoveled at least four times in the past two weeks -- and I lazily ignored a couple of other "opportunities." This morning it was a good four inches ... and still coming down steadily.

Finally had a couple of little meltdowns this past week over all the Peace Corps paperwork. It's been such a struggle to collect -- over the past two months I've been to eight clinics, averaging 1.75 visits per clinic, plus countless phone calls, cajoling, mistakes, wine spills, etc. Even I'm tired of hearing myself whine about it.

Last week I got a glimpse of what it's all gonna cost me, too. (Tip: No matter how healthy you are now, never, ever take the high-deductible insurance plan.) And this week, my pap smear did indeed come back with "atypical" cells. Nothing serious, more than likely, but hard not to worry. And all I can do is wait.

It's all brought my emotions pretty close to the surface lately. But there've been ups as well as downs. I discount neither. More of each to come, I'm sure. Hang in there with me.

------------

Still in a food coma from last night. We celebrated Miz Amy's birthday with sushi at the unfortunately named O'Yummy. It's better than it sounds, though of course you takes yer chances with sushi in landlocked Nebraska.

Sure wish I'd had my camera, not only to capture the glowing birthday girl, but to capture the neon signs out front: "Sushi bar" right next to "Tackle Shop." For real.

Now the Bookstore Maven, Miz Meleeska and I are off to brave the snow and have lunch at Sher-E-Punjab. At this rate, Santa will have to bring me new pants for Christmas!

------------

Quote of the day:

"Find your place on the planet, dig in, and take responsibility from there."

— Gary Snyder

Rotten tomatoes.

If you have any handy, lob 'em in the direction of Burger King.

Do you remember the Taco Bell boycott a few years back, because the Bell wouldn't agree to a measly increase in wages for the migrant workers who pick their produce? A boycott that actually got relatively quick results.

Now it's Burger King's turn. As "Fast Food Nation"'s Eric Schlosser writes in today's New York Times, BK won't sign on to a similar agreement, thus killing deals with the other fast-food giants. The pickers are asking for a mere penny's raise per pound of tomatoes -- meaning they'd earn about 77 cents per bucket. The head of a "growers" (landowners) consortium calls this request "pretty much un-American." They and the fast-food giants say it's the owner's right to run his business "his way" (think BK's "have it your way" motto).

Sure, but it's equally the consumer's right -- and responsibility -- to decide how to spend her/his money. And you can decide not to spend it on a company that thinks so little of those who do its backbreaking work. And you can further tell BK that you want it "your way" -- you're willing to pay extra to inch even closer to a fair wage for those workers.

It's interesting to note that one of Burger King's main stockholders is financial giant Goldman Sachs. The CEO of Goldman Sachs "earned" a $53.4 million bonus last year -- a Wall Street record. And thats just his bonus, not his "earnings."

An extra penny per bucket of tomatoes, by contrast, would cost Burger King $250,000 a year.

This pisses me off particularly because I don't do fast food anymore -- yet yesterday, while volunteering at Nebraska AIDS Project, I had a caffeine craving and went down the block for a Diet Coke. And what's down the block from NAP? Burger King, of course.

So I want to ask each of you to do two easy things -- especially easy compared with the average tomato picker's work of picking two tons of tomatoes a day (think about that for a sec):

1. Boycott Burger King. Because, beyond the health and environmental and animal rights reasons, is this really where you want your money to go? To help the CEOs of the world earn billions on the backs of those who do their dirtiest, hardest labor?

2. Contact BK and tell them why you're boycotting:

Burger King
Consumer Relations Department
5505 Blue Lagoon Drive
Miami, FL 33126
(305) 378-3000

There. I've made it pretty easy for you. You could even just copy and paste a version of this post into your letter or email. It'll take you, like, five minutes. You can do that for some fellow human beings, can't you?

Join the Church.

... The Church of Stop Shopping, that is.

The new documentary "What Would Jesus Buy" is at the Ross through Dec. 6. The point is to take a leap of faith -- a flying leap off the consumer bandwagon.

Knowing (hoping) I'm headed for Africa next spring has really killed my desire to acquire, and that's an awfully good side effect. Suddenly, I don't need anything.

To that end, I've tried to talk my family into not buying each other Christmas presents. None of us needs anything or even wants anything -- it's a struggle even to think of what to get each other. I'd much rather we just spend a slow, comfortable day together ... eating too much, laughing at the kids ... that'd be gift enough for me. But they refuse to buy in, so to speak.

OK, so go get yourself a cup of organic, free trade coffee ... I've been saving up several similar opportunities to proselytize ...

Bag the bags.

The Journal Star had a good story on a Doane College project to recycle plastic bags into more permanent totes. There's more info and even a how-to video here. A truly great idea, no? They make it sound easy to try at home ...


Why waste it just because you can?

Treehugger.com is always a great resource for useable tips on reducing consumption and waste. One of their latest drives is to promote the use of an email signature that says something like: "Save a tree. Don't print this email."

Believe it or not, according to this L.A. Times article, this small idea has created controversy. Is it just sanctimonious liberalism, the idea that using less paper can make a difference?

When I look at the overflowing pile of papers no one even bothers to pick up from our office printers -- several reams' worth, every single day, I can't help but think it can't hurt to try and be a bit less wasteful. Fewer trees killed, fewer landfills clogged, less electricity/energy/ink used ... what could be wrong with that?


Freecycling.

Along with wasting less, we could all be re-using more. The Freecycle Network aims to make that easier -- it's kind of a Craig's List of things people don't need anymore and are willing to give away locally. I haven't signed up to see if there's much Lincoln action, but I plan to. I'll let y'all know what I find.

Do you want to play a game?

Are you up to the challenge of testing yourself to see just how sustainable a life you're living? Consumerconsequences.org offers just such a test. I measured a 4.1 -- not nearly as good as I'd hoped. But collected some good tips for improvement in energy use. It's kinda fun, if you have five minutes to kill.

This shit, it is bananas.

I've stopped buying bananas that aren't organic from the local health-food coop. Here's why:

Chiquita sued over killings in Colombia

Chiquita paid off guerillas to protect their "interests." Chiquita and Dole both have a long history of infiltrating, then decimating, local Latin American communities. For an only slightly ficitionalized history, see the opening chapters of Marquez's "One Hundred Years of Solitude." I can't knowingly support a company that considers human lives expendable.

More food for thought.

Related to the bananas, I recently came across this New York Times article:

Five easy ways to go organic

Milk and apples were already deal-killers for me -- they have to be organic. Too much bad stuff in the commercial stuff. Bananas, too -- for political rather than health or environmental reasons. Peanut butter's one that hadn't occurred to me. Miz K has suggested I try making my own ... a good winter project!


Still more food for thought.

Last weekend's book club focused on "Animal, Vegetable, Miracle" -- the Barbara Kingsolver book I reviewed last spring about growing/making one's own food or, when that's impossible, buying only from within a 100-mile radius. Unfortunately, most of my fellow bookies found it rather guilt inducing. I'm as guilt-prone as the next bleeding heart, but it didn't make me feel guilty at all; rather, I found it inspiring for the many possible small changes/choices I could make. A few snippets that may, in turn, inspire you:

-- “If every U.S. citizen ate just one meal a week (any meal) composed of locally and organically raised meats and produce, we would reduce our country’s oil consumption by over 1.1 million barrels of oil every week.”

-- “Each food item in a typical U.S. meal has traveled an average of 1,500 miles. … Energy calories consumed by production, packaging, and shipping far outweigh the energy calories we receive from the food.”

-- “(T)here-quarters of all human food now comes from just eight species, with the field quickly narrowing down to genetically modified corn, soy, and canola.”

-- “Six companies – Monsanto, Syngenta, DuPont, Mitsui, Aventis and Dow – now control 98 percent of the world’s seed sales. These companies invest heavily in research whose purpose is to increase food production capacity only in ways that can be controlled strictly.”

-- “The business of importing foods across great distances is not, by its nature, a boon to Third World farmers, but it’s very good business for oil companies.”

-- “Government quality standards are stricter for tap water than for bottled.”

-- “In 1965, U.S. farmers used 335 million pounds of pesticides. In 1989 they used 806 million pounds. Less than ten years after that, it was 985 million. That’s three and a half pounds of chemicals for every person in the country, at a cost of $8 billion. Twenty percent of these approved-for-use pesticides are listed by the EPA as carcinogenic in humans.”

-- “Because they grow underground, conventional potatoes are among the most pesticide-contaminated vegetables.”

Next up: I'm reading "The Omnivore's Dilemma," so expect more proselytizing soon.


Quote of the day.

“Speak your mind even if your voice shakes.”
– Maggie Kuhn (founder, Gray Panthers)

"Oh crap -- I'm 40!"

-- T-shirt birthday gift from my ever-helpful ex-husband.

Actually, that's not how I feel about it at all. The past few years have been the best of my life, despite all the angst and challenges, and I expect the next five to be better yet.

Not bad for 40, huh?


So excuse the tardiness in this post from my birthday adventure in Tucson. You can blame it on Miz K, who kept me so entertained that I've only just recovered. (And who also gave me a real literary potboiler of a novel that I had to finish before I could do anything else this week.)

It had been way, way too long since I'd seen my dearest friend. (You can read her account of the weekend here.) So how did we start our weekend? By going to see Neko Case, of course!


I've seen Neko three times now, each time with Miz K, and this was the best show yet. Her voice was *on.* Plus, it was a benefit for No Mas Muertes, an extremely worthy cause.

Friday we spent in forced relaxation mode, waiting for the gas inspector (insert gas joke here; it's a long story of annoyance you can catch up on by reading Miz K's blog), then headed up to Phoenix to visit the homemaker's mecca that is Ikea, then spend the night with K's sister Julie and her adorable family.

Saturday evening we went on a mini bar-crawl to see out my 30s, photographic proof of which can be found on K's blog (dig the birthday hats!). Started at The District, the closest replication of our O'Rourke's stomping grounds back home. Met up with a work friend of Krista's and some friends of his at Plush for live music, then to Che's Lounge (get it?), which I knew was gonna be cool as soon as I heard the cover band wailing "G-L-O-R-I-A" as we walked in the door.

But the definite highlight was my birthday proper, spent exactly as I had hoped: with a dear friend, hiking on a mountain, then watching the sun go down over the rocky cliffs. The top of Mount Lemmon, in the Catalinas, is less than an hour's drive from Krista's front door.


The drive itself was amazingly beautiful -- we kept gasping each time we rounded a bend. As we ascended the 9,000 feet, craggy cliffs peopled with saguaros pointing the way upward gave way to aspens and pines and cool mountain air.

We chose the Sunset Trail, not at all challenging, but a lovely short hike down to Marshall Gulch and back. Fallen leaves made a lovely crunching noise under our feet, pine needles whispering and giving off their unmistakeable, cleansing scent, and the glitter of quartz begging for a closer look.


We scurried back down to 6,000 feet to get to Windy Point in time for the sunset. Too many people there, but the view is lovely, over a sheer cliff. We dangled our feet over the edge, watched a couple of rock climbers, and sat mesmerized as the sky turned golden, then cotton-candy pink streaks, then back to gold again, shimmery as fool's gold.


The sunset and other good photos are Miz K's expert work with my dorky little camera. With her permission, I've posted them all on my Flickr site -- I'm always amazed by how she can frame a setting to bring out its most enticing features.

That evening, Krista took me to the Bee Line for my birthday dinner -- a good bottle of wine and the best fish tacos I've ever had. Doesn't she look old-school elegant, in her new short 'do?


The week's end came too soon. Monday we went to El Charro (great corn tamales! I miss tamales!) and did some shopping in the old town neighborhood. I couldn't resist buying a cowboy hat, even though straw is out of season here in the north.


I'm gonna have to find the travel fundage to get back to Tucson more often, because it's a truly awesome town and home to one of my favorite people in the world.

Quote of the day is by Miz K herself, on why she can't be an actor:

"I like being myself too much."

Going into my 40th decade, I find these excellent words to live by.

Whither goest Winona?

My plans to stalk the role model of my youth have been dashed. It seems Winona Ryder has backed out of the movie being filmed around Louisville/Plattsmouth. I *so* wanted to be Winona circa "Reality Bites." She was so tiny and impish and impulsive ... Audrey Hepburn for the slacker generation ...

Just tonight, a relatively new friend asked whether I'd ever had short hair. I had 2-inch long locks for most of my adult life. I was striving for Winona, but I think I just came off as butch.

I forget that so many people in my life now don't know the "old" me. Even I have a hard time remembering her. Part of me wonders who I'd become if I were to cut my hair ... it grew out just as I grew into myself, and as a result I think I've given it a Samsonesque quality.

Meanwhile, the stranger who was the husband to the "old" me gave me a birthday gift tonight ... a Tshirt that says "Holy Crap! I'm 40!" Just the gift to pick up at The Wal-Mart along with a case of Old Milwaukee on your way to the big birthday bash at the trailer park.

In related news, Miz K informs me via TM that she cut her hair off this weekend. I'll get to see for myself in a few days ... I take off Wednesday evening for Tucson. Can't wait to see the town, the lovely little abode ... but most especially Miz K herself!

I plan to be hiking a nearby mountain on my 40th birthday. And no, I won't be wearing that damn T-shirt.

"Characters searching for something to search for."

I found this description of Wes Anderson's characters the other day in a review of "The Darjeeling Limited." Maybe that's why I find them so endearing. It's meant to imply a flake alert ... but to me there's no higher compliment.

Life is in the search.


Note for the holiday shopping season:

Before you buy your favorite little one that Barbie doll, or that adorable little getup at Gap Kids, read/listen to this first:

Gap, Mattel, Speedo, Wal-Mart Products Linked to Child and Sweatshop Labor in China and India

Better yet, let her read/listen for herself. If our young'uns knew that all those meaningless little trinkets were made by children just like themselves, forced into 12 hours or more of labor without the food or home or love we have the luxury of taking for granted, I firmly believe they wouldn't find all the bright plastics nearly so alluring.

Only Halloween, and already I'm bombarding you with politically correct Christmas shopping advice ...


What doesn't kill us ...

This little tidbit from the Washington Post makes me more appreciative of the stresses/stressors in my own life:

Stress Makes Birds More Daring

Birds bred to have higher levels of stress hormones are bolder -- not more scared and retiring -- when faced with a potentially hazardous new situation, a surprising study has found. The "stressed" birds were more willing to visit a feeder in a new cage and to return to it after being startled, than were their more laid-back brethren.

Like other animals -- humans included -- the birds respond to stresses such as the presence of a predator or a new environment by producing a hormone, which in birds is called corticosterone. But some birds have naturally higher levels of the hormone than others. ...

"It initially seems counterintuitive that birds with higher levels of the stress hormone showed bolder behavior, normally associated with confidence," said Thais Martins, lead author of the study, published last week in the journal Hormones and Behaviour. "However, corticosterone is released to help tackle stress by encouraging the animal to adopt key survival behaviors like seeking food. So on reflection, perhaps it is not surprising that these birds are more likely to explore the environment and look for food."


Geeky joke of the day: (thanks to Miz AJ for the article in which this appeared)

Q: What do copy editors use for birth control?
A: Their personalities.

I have been assimilated.

An add to the Halloween mix below:

Bodysnatchers / Radiohead

Curse "All Songs Considered"! It always forces me to go buy new music. I resist listening to the podcasts for just this reason ... then I overindulge and listen to, like, five at a time.

I've never been much of a Radiohead fan, but hearing just a few clips from the online release of "In Rainbows" made me crave it. So lush and orchestral ... without the self-indulgent weirdness of "OK Computer." I can't listen to anything else.

Also "have to have" the new Jolie Holland, a Senegalese singer named Youssou N'Dour, and some Chinese punk compilation.


Quote of the day:

"One does not discover new lands without consenting to lose sight of the shore for a very long time." -- Andre Gide


Annoyance of the day:

Have you ever finally, after much searching, found exactly the perfect product -- after trying many, rejecting each, finally happened upon the perfect solution to your problem -- and then been unable to find it, anywhere, ever again?

For me, it's a hair clip. It's so great. It has rubber grips so it really stays in place. It's big enough to hold my thick hair. It simply does not budge. And I cannot find another. Anywhere.

If you see such an awesome, rubber, hair-gripping, badass black hair clip, buy it -- I promise I'm good for it.


Also ISO ...

I need a new word. Not a mantra, exactly. I don't know what to call it. I have a word (a name, actually) that is the first thing in my head, on my lips even, in the morning, the last at night. It has absolutely no connection with my current life. Its meaning has long since transcended the person to whom the name is connected. I think it is just the word I put to my yearning for ... more. For what I want my life to be.

And so, entonces, I need to find a new word to associate with this feeling, a substitute I can use to retrain my thought pattern. Something positive; something forward-moving; something that puts me, mentally, in charge of my own destiny, instead of giving a smidgen of even symbolic power to someone long since gone from my life.

Ideas?

OK, off to bed -- up early for my tuberculosis test (for Peace Corps). Wish me luck! ;-)

Giving up the ghost.

My darling friend Miz N sent me her annual Halloween mix CD this week. It rocks! If she posts her own playlist, I'll link to it. (and she has!)

I am lazy this year, so no mix for y'all. But here's what I'd do if I *were* to make a mix. Feel free to DIY.

The Devil Never Sleeps / Iron and Wine
Candy Everybody Wants / 10,000 Maniacs
Howl at the Moon / Tijuana Gigolos
Night of the Living Dead / Tilly & the Wall
People Who Died / Jim Carroll Band
Witches / Cowboy Junkies
Deathly / Aimee Mann
Ghost Ranch / Beck
Happy Phantom / Tori Amos
The Hungry Wolf / X
The Devil Had a Hold on Me / Gillian Welch
The Moon Is Shining / Indigenous
I Wish I Was the Moon / Neko Case
Devil Boots / Mark Sandman
Wicked Ways / Garbage
This Devil's Workday / Modest Mouse
Devil in My Car / The B-52's
Moondance / Van Morrison
Ghost Of Yesterday / Billie Holiday
Dark as the Dungeon / Johnny Cash
Pink Moon / Nick Drake
Zombie / Fela Kuti

A bit too long for one CD, I s'pose ...

Be cool, man -- it's the fuzz.

That's no way to start the day, is it?


I'd just gotten out of the shower when the door rang. Cops milling about my front yard/street, and one at the door asking what I knew about the teddy bear. What teddy bear?

Apparently an abandoned teddy bear had been lying in my lawn, and some passerby called the police because it was "leaking a white powdery substance." I know this not because of the unnecessarily rude cop who rang my bell -- he just said "Stay inside" and walked away when I asked what was going on. Meanwhile, firetrucks are blocking both ends of the street and more cops are cordoning off my front yard with police tape. How is all this activity not supposed to scare me?

Thank *goodness* a cute firefighter was available to amble over and answer my questions from the safety of my front porch. And thank goodness this country is full of Good Amerricuns who when to call the authorities. A ripped up teddy bear oozing powdery innards -- alert the police at once! Our public safety is at risk! The terrorists are at it again!

Men in various uniforms stood around for awhile, one took pictures, bagged the bear and ... scene.

Two blogs in one morning ... how lucky are you that my life is *this* fascinating?

Exhaustin' Austin.

Back from the TX. A lovely, lazy, long weekend. Got to see my friend V play in some non-BSOJC groups -- Latin and country. An all-upright bass weekend, too. No cooler instrument exists.

What-all we did: Met Alejandro Escovedo at Antone's; chilled to some badass soul/dance at the Continental Club; lotsa motorcycle rides, crusing SoCo; played tourist (bats under the overpass, state capitol, O. Henry's house); watched a disturbing Fellini film ("Le Notti de Cabiria") and went to "Darjeeling Limited"; found out I'm surprisingly good at pinball, especially when the machine freaks out and sends out five-six balls at a time ...

What we didn't quite get around to this time around: Riding one of his antique tandem bikes; teaching me to play the cursed "Smoke on the Water" on bass; heading down to the surf.

Now to buckle down and get my medical info in order for PC service.

And looking forward to Tucson in November.


Song of the day: "To Live is to Fly," Cowboy Junkies

To live is to fly
Low and high
So shake the dust out of your wings
and the sleep out of your eyes ...

Peace-full.

I got the call today. I've officially been nominated to the Peace Corps.

Sub-Saharan Africa, May 2008, public health.

Assuming I pass all the medical tests and get enough volunteer experience over the next six months.

In a slight state of shock, I suppose, but mostly I just feel really, really peaceful -- no pun intended.

This feels very right.

Start saving your travel fundage now -- plane fare to Africa ain't cheap, but I'll show you an amazing time!

Is it just me ...

... or is this just really, really funny?

(If you're wondering, it's the pod left over after a canna stops blooming.)


Open. And closed. And open ...

Lil' Bro called this rainy morning, suggesting it might be a good day to put in my new garage door opener, the one that's been sitting in its box, propping up the north wall, for a month now. Huzzah! I thought ... we'll be done by noon, and I can still get in a good workout ... exchange a top at the dreaded mall ... accomplish some more readin/writin/relaxin a la yesterday ...

Seven hours and one six-pack later, the damn thing finally worked. Matt may have intimate experience with this particular variety of mechanism, but he forgot to take my crumbling, far-from-square old structure into account. A few trips to the hardware store and an afternoon of sitting around later (and that six-pack he drank in the process!), and I prob'ly saved only about $20 off the quote the professionals gave me several months ago. I didn't tell him that.

But here's one of the things I like best about my brother: Despite one setback after another, he didn't (except for a couple of self-directed f-bombs) complain once about the situation. He never does get uptight or annoyed. He just keeps trying to figure out how to solve the problem. And he's pretty upbeat about the journey.

This is not an inherited trait. How did he come to be so zen? Is it the High Life?

I was fairly zen myself this weekend, matter of fact. The rain turned my beds into a goopy clay mush, so no garden work as was the plan. I actually allowed myself to sink into relaxation mode, with only a modicum of guilt.

I feel grateful to have so many someones who are so willing to help. And grateful that my good fortune (despite my constant fears of falling into the financial abyss) allows me such luxuries as a garage door opener. I was getting along just fine on muscle power, but it will be nice to have as winter closes in (and it looks like I'll be braving another Nebraska winter). I've found I don't mind living without a lot of things I once considered essential ... a dishwasher, a savings account, a man ...


Peace, out.

Tomorrow is my first Peace Corps interview. The more steps I complete, the more excited I get. I really do see this happening. On Friday I signed up to volunteer with Nebraska AIDS Project to get some experience. The people there are so warm and lovely, I can hardly wait to hang out with them. After a weekend of training in early November, I'll be certified to do HIV testing; also hope to do education and outreach. They're just kind of reinvigorating their volunteer situation, so it seems a mutually beneficial setup. Symbiosis!


Quote of the day.

"Optimism is true moral courage."
-- Sir Ernest Shackleton

Uwei Bo Nua.

1. Put your iTunes, Windows Media Player, etc. on shuffle.
2. For each question, press the next button to get your answer.
3. Write that song name down.

HOW WOULD YOU DESCRIBE YOURSELF?
Murder, Tonight, in the Trailer Park

WHAT DO YOU LIKE IN A GUY/GIRL?
I'm Not Afraid to Die

WHAT IS YOUR LIFE'S PURPOSE?
Ladyfingers

WHAT IS YOUR MOTTO?
Sour Times

WHAT DO YOUR FRIENDS THINK OF YOU?
When Flagships Collide

WHAT DO YOU THINK ABOUT VERY OFTEN?
Dash 7

WHAT DO YOUR PARENTS THINK OF YOU?
Half a Person

WHAT DO YOU THINK OF YOUR BEST FRIEND?
Horse Racing

WHAT DO YOU THINK OF THE PERSON YOU LIKE?
I Think I'm Paranoid

WHAT DO YOU WANT TO BE WHEN YOU GROW UP?
Jimmy

WHAT DO YOU THINK WHEN YOU SEE THE PERSON YOU LIKE?
Shining Star

WHAT SONG WILL THEY PLAY AT YOUR WEDDING?
Into the Open

WHAT WILL THEY PLAY AT YOUR FUNERAL?
Heart Full of Soul

WHAT IS YOUR HOBBY/INTEREST?
I Will Survive

WHAT IS YOUR BIGGEST FEAR?
Crown of Love

WHAT IS YOUR BIGGEST SECRET?
All That Innocence

WHAT DO YOU THINK OF YOUR FRIENDS?
If You Were the Woman and I Was the Man

WHAT DOES YOUR WORK/SCHOOL EXPERIENCE ENTAIL?
Song for Innocents

WHAT IS YOUR ROMANTIC SIDE LIKE?
Pa' Todo el An~o

WHAT DOES THE FUTURE HOLD FOR YOU?
Untitled 7

WHAT WILL YOU REPOST THIS AS?
Uwei Bo Nua

Nicked from Miz Nealy ... hers came out eerily prescient ... mine not so much. Obviously, I didn't cheat and find the "perfect" song! A couple of funny ones, though ... what *do* I think of my friends?!?

Bed, book and candle.

These nights, dark already by the time I'm home, confuse my biorhythms. Only 8 p.m. and I want to drink soup, curl under an afghan, read long classic novels. And so I do. Never mind it's 65 degrees out and not all *that* dark. Practicing my hibernation skills.

Only practicing, though. Not down for the winter count yet.


Maybe now they'll make passes?

Been a long time since I got new glasses ... not sure how I feel about them yet ...


And new bling from Tsuru, the adorable new shop on 14th:



Best news of the day.

Miz K calls me all shrieking this afternoon. Turns out our idol, Neko Case, is performing in Tucson the night after I get there for my birthday visit. Are we going? Oh, hell to the yes!

Related trivia note: Which Neko Case disc was recorded in Tucson? Tell me the answer and I'll buy you a ... hmm, don't know any local-to-Tucson brews. OK, I'll buy you a tequila shot.


Worst news of the day.

Geez, take your pick:

1) Mass rapes in Congo.

2) More civilians dead due to more contractor clusterfucks in Iraq.

Or, and not at all to make light of those ...

3) The idea of me in a wetsuit, which that surfer boy in Austin intimates may be in my near future ...

Meanwhile, in Nigeria ...

The New York Times says the country's all ducky now that Yar Adua's in charge ...

Human Rights Watch, on the other hand, says Nigeria's democracy has been "hijacked" by rampant government corruption.

And peace worker Judith Asuni is still being held, without bail, on espionage charges, without being able to answer the accusations nor even know the details of the government's "case."

Quote of the day.

"When the best-case scenario is still bad, over-analyzing the situation is a waste of your time."
-- Catty Girls Advise


Laugh of the day.

Walked into the news meeting this afternoon and suddenly realized I'd had my sweater on backwards all day. Did I bother to change it? No, I did not.

New phrase of the day.

Apparently, according to my cuz in the HR biz, the term is no longer "passive-aggressive," since there's usually nothing passive about it. Now it's known as "covert-aggressive." I don't know why I like this so much. Or I do know, but I'm certainly not going to tell you.


Currently reading: "The Good Earth," Pearl Buck
Currently hearing: 12 Girls Band (goes well with the novel's China theme)

My day.

Day off from work.
Extra-long workout.
Healthy lunch at Blue Orchid with one of my favorite cousins.
Fingerprinted at the Lincoln Police Department.

The fingerprinting was for my Peace Corps application. The woman making the prints was so chatty and adorable and messy. I wish I'd had my camera with me.

Then I got coffee at Cultiva so I could chat with the owner, who thanks to an article in Monday's Journal Star I just learned is a former Peace Corps volunteer. He was so enthusiastic about it -- he worked with farmers in Honduras. I'm newly inspired. He's also passionate about making sure coffee farmers and workers get a fair price for their work, so throw your coffee biz his way!

This evening I'm off to a Peace Corps info session on campus. Expecting further inspiration.


Sarahndipity.

Thanks to hearing her interview yesterday on "Fresh Air," I remembered to tune in last night to the season opener of "The Sarah Silverman Program." (My treat for driving to Schuyler, giving a presentation on Nigeria to my dad's Rotary club, driving home, cleaning house like a maniac and falling, exhausted, onto the sofa.) The Nation online has a good review of Silverman's humor. Me, I'm definitely in the "love her" camp. The reason her humor makes us so uncomfortable is because of how accurately she mirrors our culture. To laugh at her racist jokes is to laugh *at* the racists, not *with* them. Using humor to belittle what should be brought down. Me, I'm OK with that.


Linguatastic.

Who was it who suggested this collection of Geoffrey Nunberg essays on linguistics? BlankPhotog? Longstinger?

Whoever it was, thank you! I'm enjoying it. Deftly, gently humorous and good-humored take on words and culture. A relief after some heavier stuff I've been reading lately.


No more 69.

Much as it pained me to change my coveted "69" (heehee) number of friends on MySpace, I just had to honor a friend request from Bittybox, a Cali singer/songwriter with a badass voice and sensibility. Check her out!


Signs of fall.

1) The sweater I treated myself to yesterday at Stella. A lovely, mustardy yellow cardigan, hipsterized with blousy sleeves and a swingy cut.

2) First bath of the season last night, in a freshly scoured tub. To me, baths are a winter thing; they're about relaxing, not cleansing. (I'm weird/anal enough that I'll often shower first.) The luxury of steaming hot, scented water, a glass of wine, a good book. A long soak that loosens all my tight ends, muscular and mental.

Today, of course, it's back to mid-80s and stickily humid. I don't like that. I do like fall, except as a harbinger of winter.

Things that made me happy today.

1) Finally compiling all the materials for my Nigeria presentations this week and next. I've heard Bill Clinton gets $30k a pop for such gigs. But then, I'm not sure he's played the Schuyler Rotary Club or my mom's PEO circle. I'll be lucky to get a meat-free meal.

2) Finally making contact with someone from the Nebraska AIDS Project, in hopes of finding satisfying/worthwhile volunteer work.

3) Hearing that, despite the national efforts of an anti-choice minority, a new Planned Parenthood clinic is open and serving women and families in Aurora, Colo.

4) Teva's keeyooot new line of fall shoes made entirely of post-consumer recycled materials. (My favorite = the Riley)

5) Reading Anita Hill's bitchslap to Clarence Thomas over his revisioned version of history.

6) Coming up with the bright idea (pun intended) that just because there's no official plan to make Lights Out San Francisco a nationwide event, that doesn't mean we can't celebrate on our own! Mark your calendars: Oct. 20, 8-9 p.m. You can live without electricity for one lousy hour, can't you? Candles and quiet and all that might bring into your life? Try it! Let me know how it works!

7) Subsequently realizing I'll be in Austin for Lights Out. Pretty sure I can live without electricity for one hour, even in a strange city.


And things that made me sad. And mad.

1) Hearing Seymour Hersh on "Fresh Air" talking about the devastating consequences likely if the current regime keeps beating its worn-out ol' war drum on Iraq. Pay attention now, people. The national spin is rotating in that direction.

2) Learning that Judith Asuni, one of the peace activists we met with in Nigeria, is being held by the government there on trumped-up espionage charges. Apparently, she helped some German documentary filmmakers gain access to rebels in the dangerous oil delta. She has done so much to illuminate the plight of this devastated region of a poverty-stricken country ... the charges can't be anything but a trumped-up way to get a muckraker out of the way. But I can't find any new information, and I am worried for her safety.

3) Reading this article about working conditions for Brazilians fueling the ethanol industry. Does any of this fuel trickle up north? Do I support this when I buy the ethanol blend here in Nebraska? I hope not. Bad enough that using ethanol supports yet more pesticide use and subverts the possibility of switching to far more logical/economical/efficient switchgrass.


And what of feeling happy or sad?

Here's an odd little story about a study that finds people who are used to being happy end up just having higher expectations for happiness.

"When good things happen, they don't count for much because they are what you expect. When bad things happen, you temporarily feel terrible, because you've gotten used to being happy."

Hmm. This gives me much to navel-gaze over.

As does this:


Quote of the day.

“The value of the dwelling is in the dweller.”
-- Idries Shah, Sufist author

"The purpose of freedom is to free someone else."

-- Toni Morrison

(BBC photo)

Easy things you can do to show the world is watching the military's treatment of the people of Burma/Myanmar:

Sign this petition that will be sent to the United Nations.

If you're on Facebook, join the group to Support the Monks' Protest in Burma.

And if you're in Lincoln, Nebraskans for Peace is sponsoring a vigil Saturday at 5 p.m. at 15th & O streets.


I melt(down) with you:

Ryan Adams has meltdown at Minneapolis concert


Love your songwriting, Ryan, but get a grip -- read the above to see what's really worth melting down over.


Out of the (trash) bag

NPR/Marketplace is launching a series on our unsustainable (in so many senses of the world) consumer economy. Cohost Tess Vigeland has been hauling her own garbage around for a week, drawing attention to the humongoid pile of waste each of us creates, every single day. You can join the trash challenge, if you dare. I have to admit I don't.


Quote of the day:

"I think the easiest way to lose something is to want it too badly."
-- John Dorian

Shine on.

Mr. V called all the way from Germany today, a nice lift in an otherwise long and stress-filled workday. He'll get back to the States about a week before I head down to Austin. Music, motorcycles, Bastards and bicycles built for two. Can I get a woohoo?

If V hadn't reminded me, would I have known to look up at the harvest moon on the drive home this evening? I like to think I couldn't possibly have missed it, all vivid orange lurking behind looming, mysterious clouds. I so wanted to capture it, but my point-and-shoot will NOT take nighttime photos.


Random Miss Cellanea

1. My corporate stock is down below $15/share. Been hovering in the $16-$17 range for a good six months now. A year ago, and for long before that, it was at least $30. A sign of the times in the industry ... just when I need the cash ...

2. Hearing Kevin Smith kick trivia ass on "Wait Wait, Don't Tell Me" last weekend (thanks, Miz K!) led me to his blog, "My Boring-Ass Life," which is appropriately named. Would I waste my celebrity wealth on crashing on the couch in my wooby shorts watching DVDs all day and night? No, I would not. I don't even do that now. Then again, I'm not a brilliant filmmaker. I guess it counts as research/education. I've downloaded the podcast, too, but haven't listened to it. I subscribe to, like, a dozen, but I almost never listen ... the constant dialogue in my own head seems to keep me busy enough ...

3. I am cautiously optimistic about the situation in Myanmar (Burma). Six months ago, such large-scale demonstrations would have been unthinkable. But I think (hope?) international awareness has finally put it beyond the junta's control. Despite today's violence, the regime has to know that the world is watching and would (will?) step in if (when?) they try to crack down in a big way. Could real revolution possibly be brewing? Bloody as it likely would be, I hope so. I hope the people of Burma get the freedom they so deserve. I hope Aung San Suu Kyi has a few years of democracy ahead of her ...

4. I am still discovering the many ways I miss Miz K. Reason No. 567: I no longer have a regular drinking buddy! I so miss going out for cocktails and gossip. Or margaritas and mayhem. Or beer and Bastards!

5. Another thing about fall ... I actually love this time of year but hate to admit it. Open windows (could do without the constantly whining kids next door, though), crisp fresh air, nature starting to crunch underfoot, the vague smell of decomposition as nature's ashes go back to ashes. Sweaters. Suede boots. I'm ready for them, but ...

But it just means winter is coming. And I can't seem to put it out of my mind and just enjoy what is Now. Which leads me to ...


Mantra of the day:

Live in the moment ... live in the moment ... LIVE IN THE MOMENT ... must learn to live in the moment ...

Picture perfect morning.

I was one badass bitch on the bike this morning; must've been equinox energy. Drove to the trailhead 'cause I thought I had only 20 miles in me ... but at Eagle I was feeling so good I just kept going and did 30 after all.

I've never ridden with my iPod before. I know it's dangerous, but damn! it was fun. I usually prefer the quiet crunch of my wheels on crushed limestone, the breeze and birdsong as soundtrack, but this morning I was singing to the wilderness at the top of my lungs. On shuffle, no less (though I skipped anything that wasn't hard and fast).

Windy on the way back -- gusts to 30 mph! -- but I sliced through it like butter. Great ride. Though I missed an overseas call that I might've heard if not for the iPod, and that was a bummer.

The trail is lovely, summer's greens turning to fall's orange-yellow-browns. Wisht I'd brought my camera.

This afternoon I added some pansies and mums to the front steps. We'll see if they take.


Currently reading:

"The Middle of Everywhere: The World's Refugees Come to Our Town" by Mary Pipher

Recommended by the lovely volunteer coordinator at the People's Health Center, a low-income clinic that serves Lincoln's many refugee populations. Lincoln is one of the top 10 refugee sites in the United States. Bosnians, Vietnamese, Iraqis, Sudanese, Kurds all have substantial burgeoning populations here. Pipher gives detailed insight into the multiple ways newcomers are overwhelmed by their new home. Never mind being dropped into a dingy apartment in a strange city where you can't understand the language. Imagine all that plus not knowing such social norms as daily bathing, what a toothbrush is, not knowing even how to turn on a light or a faucet. Just for starters.

Unfortunately, I don't think that volunteer position is going to work out. I need to find work where I'll have actual contact with people, instead of just filing paperwork. Trying to get the Nebraska AIDS Project to return my calls ... but this book has me wondering about what Pipher calls "cultural brokers" ... who help individual families learn to acclimate to their new society. I wonder if that'd qualify for my Peace Corps work?

Impatient? Me?

Suddenly the morning glories have taken to flowering after all. They're supposed to be solid summer bloomers, but whatever; take what you can get when you can get it, I always say. Nothing prettier than a blue flower.


Sensory overload

With all the money I don't have in my bank account, I went on a bit of a music binge this week. To wit:

"Breathing Under Water," Anoushka Shankar with Karsh Kale (daughter of Ravi, half-sis of Norah Jones, haunting Indian melodies/instruments with a distinct fusion flavor)

"Kala," M.I.A. (Sri Lankan female hiphop ... I'd meant to get this when it came out a couple years ago, but listening to her new disc just made me want this one even more ... a bit rougher around the edges)

"Betty Davis," Betty Davis ('70s funk that's like Macy Gray meets jazz meets disco ... thanks to Miz K for turning me on to her, but HOW could I never have heard of her before???)

"This is Trip-Bop," Fez Dispenser (globally ethereal trip-hop, thanks again to Miz K, but PLEASE stop introducing me to new music!! I can't afford it! "Rock on, girl!")

"Another Fine Day," Golden Smog (former side project of Jeff Tweedy and one of the Jayhawks)

"Please Panic," The Vulgar Boatmen (think I found them via NPR's "All Songs Considered" ... mid-'90s postgrunge, almost Wilco-y poplike, at least to my ear ...)

"The Very Best of The Last Poets," (so you thought the Sugar Hill Gang invented rap? Then you need to hear this spoken-word-over-bass-beat from the late '60s / early '70s. Afros and all. The revolution comes!")

"Mezzanine," Massive Attack (more older, layered, ethereal trip-hop ... what can I say? It's the mood I'm in lately...)

In my defense, most of these were used discs, so I'm just saving them from the landfill, right? Still, if my ears were my stomach, they'd be all bloaty right now ... must learn to pace myself ...


I "love" this "blog"!

The Associated Press had a story today on this blog devoted to "unnecessary" quotation "marks."

Which links to other bloggers obsessed with: misuse of the word "literally"; people who leave passive-aggressive notes; and signs in all caps except for the letter "L."

Sadly, the link to a blog about my own pet peeve, misused apostrophes, doesn't work.

Who knew so many could be so obsessed about such minutiae?

Copy editors of the world, untie!


And now, the news

Too lazy/chickenshit to blog politics, so I'll just link. If you haven't heard this shit already, then you're not paying enough attention ...

Student charged with wearing fake bomb (aka a T-SHIRT) to airport

No bail for Jena Six teen

Judge denies Planned Parenthood's request to open clinic



That number again is ...

As of this moment, I have 69 friends on MySpace ... heehee ...


The tables have turned

So it's 10 p.m., I'm nearly through my third High Life and waiting for my parents to come home. How's that for a 180? They're staying with me this weekend for my dad's 40th dental school reunion. I'm resisting the urge to shriek "And just WHERE have you BEEN?" when they come home ... meanwhile, after they leave, I'm going to have to fumigate to rid the place of my dad's aftershave and that just plain old-people smell. How sad ... my folks are old!

What's the story?

Morning glory vines go crazy everywhere I plant them ... horribly invasive. Yet they practically never flower. Here's one, of a handful. Such a pretty purpley-blue, they're almost worth the trouble.

I've heard it's possible to develop allergies, and I'm afraid that's what I've gone and done. Suddenly this fall, working in the yard brings on such an eye-tearing, nose-tickling, multiple-sneeze-inducing, head-heavying sensation that I can hardly stand it.


A bout of babysitting the niece and nephews this weekend. Ryan, at 17 months, is heavily into an "I won't smile, and you can't make me" phase.

Family obligations cut into my weekend, making me feel as if I'd wasted my entire Saturday. Sad that I see it as wasted when I spend time with people who love me, instead of getting minutiae crossed of my "list."

But I did manage to check off two biggies:

1. I sent off the Peace Corps application. Now to tackle phase 2, the preliminary medical questionnaire, and to find appropriate volunteer experience.

2. With my remaining United miles, I booked a trip to Austin in October. Between that trip and Tucson in November, I have much to look forward to in the short term ... spending time in cool places, with very cool friends.

Thoughts for the day:

1.

2.

When women stop carrying
mirrors with them
everyplace they go
maybe then
they can talk to me
about
liberation
-- Bukowski

3.

What is past is prologue.
-- Shakespeare, by way of Miz K

4.

Beer is proof that god loves us & wants us to be happy.
-- Benjamin Franklin

5.

You gotta drop to juggle.
-- Mark, by way of Vance

Altoona, all the time.

Drove to Altoona, Iowa, (near Des Moines) last weekend to hang out with Vance and the other Bastards. They were playing a huge Johnny Cash tribute at this new casino. I got to shake hands with Tommy Cash and hear some of Johnny's original backup bandmates.

But the highlight was definitely hanging out with a cute Bastard.


They played the Zoo Bar here in Lincoln on Thursday night, too ...

... and some of the chicas came out to play with me:

(from left: Amy; Joellen; me; Jill)

Miz K, you were so missed -- they did "Viva Las Vegas" just for us! You're the one who introduced me to those Bastards in the first place ... A little treat from the weekend is coming your way soon ...

Wish I could follow them on tour in Germany this month ...

Now it's on.

Bust the lock off the front door
Once you’re outside, you won’t wanna hide anymore
-- Grandaddy

------------


Bigger adventures to come, I hope (more on that below), but for today, at least, I am exactly where I want to be: On the patio, surveying my domain over a High Life. It's been a much-needed day of solitude -- a 20-mile ride this morning, followed by several productive hours in the garden ... clearing out weeds, clearing up the soul. Quiet, sunny but not hot, dirty fingernails ... perfect.

Here's another late-summer garden shot:

Seems like it looks more impressive in photos than it does in real life. Maybe that's true of many things? Good to remember.

------------

I've just sent off a resume and cover letter to the Cambodia Daily, an English-language daily in Phnom Penh. Have I mentioned this before? I applied on a whim just before I moved to New Hampshire; when they actually offered me the job, T and I discussed moving there together, but in the end I turned down the job and went not quite so far east. Always regretted it. A colleague on my Nigeria trip, it turns out, worked there a decade ago; he had high praise for the paper and said I likely hadn't burned any bridges. We'll see.

As for the Peace Corps application, it's ready to go as soon as I can make contact with my recruiter in Denver; I have some technical questions I need to get answered before I hit Send.

Found a copy-editing position in Abu Dhabi this week ... but I think that may be too repressive an environment for me. Can't really see myself wearing a hijab.

What might rise to the top? I have no idea yet. I'll miss this little life I've created for myself. But I'm ready for another, bigger one.

-------------

Though it's been mostly solitary (by choice), the weekend was punctuated by some charming get-togethers with friends. I finally met my online friend vmh (author of this lovely, poetic blog) in person on Friday afternoon; on Saturday I met Meleeska and mini-Meleeska at Jones Coffee; just got off the phone with my new buddy Vance in Austin, who'll be coming this way this week before leaving on a monthlong tour of Europe. Come see his badass band at the Zoo on Thursday, and I'll buy ya a drink!

------------

Oh, and I'm reviewing Edwidge Danticat's new memoir, "Brother, I'm Dying," which comes out next month. Left until age 12 in Haiti with her pastor uncle while her parents forged a new life in New York, she draws on much of her early life in her amazing first novel "Breath, Eyes, Memory." "Brother" recalls her early life, punctuating it with her father's fatal illness and her uncle's detention, in post-9/11 America, while visiting on a routine visa ... he dies without charges (as there are none to bring) and without the medication he desperately pleads for, in vain. I haven't read far enough yet for details, but that's enough to enrage me, once again, at how far we've come from the values we supposedly hold so dear.

And the second chapter's title a question we all should ask ourselves now, before it's too late: Have You Enjoyed Your Life?

Welcome to the Lincolndome.

I am giggly like a schoolgirl. The legendary Chuck D is speaking in Lincoln next month! Besides having a huge crush on him back in the day (those guns for arms, that booming voice), I've always liked what he says in his music. If I want to feel pissed off or worked up, I listen to PE.

It's a free symposium, Wednesday, Sept. 12 at Wesleyan. Who's in?

------------

I'm no big Jim Carrey fan (except for "Spotless Mind"), but I'm a HUGE fan of Aung San Su Kyi, the Burmese rights activist who has been imprisoned for some 20 years now. So I'm glad to see some mass support being organized to try and finally secure her release.

I can't get the YouTube video to post properly, but here's a link.

------------

Andrew Sullivan has a good blog at The Atlantic on the Larry Craig brouhaha.

What makes me so angry about Craig is that here is someone who typecasts gays as The Other, instead of supporting equality. He has built a career on promoting "family values" -- unless, of course, you're gay, because then you don't have a right to marry or share benefits or, really, come out of the closet (or the bathroom stall, as the case may be).

If he and others had used their congressional power to support equal rights for all, then perhaps repeated generations of men wouldn't feel so ashamed of who they are that they feel forced to resort to anonymous bathroom sex. Instead, he's perpetuating the exact stereotype that got him into the hot water in which he now finds himself.

While I hurt for those who feel they have to hide their real selves, I can't dredge up much sympathy for someone who held the power to change that, for himself and for others, and failed to exercise it.

------------

Couldn't' sleep last night (second night in a row), so I popped "Stranger Than Fiction" into the DVD player. It didn't get good reviews when it came out, but I found it enchanting. (Maybe because I was in and out of sleep/dreams as I was watching?) Definitely a film that captures the short story form. And not your typical Will Ferrell flick, though I like those, too ...

Dismal revisited.

Here, courtesy photog extraordinaire Mark Davis, is a shot of Korb and me shooting the "rapids" on the Dismal a couple of weeks ago. It wasn't exactly the 30-foot waterfall I'd been envisioning.


-------------

I've updated links to the left. 'Specially want to direct y'all to Miz K's new blog from Tucsonland. Send some love her way!

http://kristaniles.wordpress.com/

-------------

Currently hearing: "Electric Version," New Pornographers

The new Rilo Kiley made me think to drag out this 4-year-old disc. I didn't like it much when I bought it, either ... mostly because it was so poppy and didn't make nearly enough use of Neko's haunting voice. So maybe there'll be hope for "Under the Blacklight" making my rotation eventually ... I'm just not loving it right now ...