the (mis) adventures of penelope and mendacious

p.s. ~

2012-01-26T10:00:00.001-08:00

I got mail from you today! From America when you were still here. I love the bags, somebody’s mom! I will have to take pictures. And I have to ponder our epic blog headers/printsofus. Framed series? Collage? Make wallpaper for friend in Korea?

also ***very important*** I forgot to mention that my hair is at a highly awkward stage of growth. torment. I mean, they are not just badhairdays. they are stupidhairdays. very, very stupid. whatever, hair.

I got jehovaed this morning. bender barking ferociously in the background, was read an apparently prophetic bible passage. it’s all to be taken literally of course. in case you didn’t know. I took the literature Just Because. it’s very gloomy and presumably God never wants us to have any fun, ever? Yeah. I reallydontgetit.

oh and napoleon dynamite is a cartoon. on sundays. it’s kind of stupid but we keep watching. I mean I do appreciate that many of the characters are voiced by the original actors. at least. and it was all very cartoonish anyway…

tell me what you’re eating over there in jejubes. and more about methods of teaching these little people. and everythingelseinbetween.

while you’ve been out ~

2012-01-26T07:12:00.001-08:00

Because I know you’re just dying without the mundane details of penelope’s life. In the meantime, I’m dying without photographical documentation of your journeying. And all the written details in between. Not that your emails thus far haven’t been magical. Love them. Papering your walls, what a clever idea! :-D You could also do blank paper and draw/paint on it. Depending on what you find. We’ll have to brainstorm over video chat.

So anyway, here’s a rundown of current events:

~ I strained my neck/shoulder in old-person Tai Chi at church over a week ago. Lame. It was clearly a waiting to happen crick, but goawayalready.

~ Book club Friday night, Mexi restaurant, a post-holiday reconvene discussing our various book-swap books. Which I didn’t read, because mine was a beachy chick lit book that turned out to be a cancer story. Completely unfair. There were only three of us, but the margaritas were tasty and I think I ate an entire basket of chips. This is not uncommon behavior.

~ Our friends came to visit this weekend, and beforehand L called specifically to see if it was supposed to snow, and I was all, oh – No no. We haven’t had nearly as much as last year, blah blah, forecast says sunny. And then it totally snowed. But it was sort of perfect and we think it was just for us. Because literally during the snow, the forecast still said sunny and there was nary a patch of radar-green within a hundred miles of us. It was just enough to entertain the children and melted by noon.

~ Also I love when good friends invite themselves to visit because I never seem to have to the gumption or wherewithal to make it happen.

~ N has been Mr. Crabby Pants.

~ K’s handwriting is becoming all neat, and she writes sentences. With kindergarten-endorsed “inventive spelling,” but still it’s sort of amazing.

~ One of my mom’s long-lost cousins wrote this book. What! Not like I haven’t been obsessed with that particular topic or anything.

~ I have 11 chapters left of Grain’s book. I love it. We have such talented friends.

~ Related theorizing, which happens every time I edit a friend’s fiction: though a writer, I lack the storytelling gene. Am more of a roundabout, let me take you on a spiral through twenty levels of emotion kind of girl.

~ Heidi and Seal have split.

~ Schrute is getting a spinoff. About life on the beet farm.

~ Ben Folds is reuniting with the Five of legend and lore to make a new album.

~ Have watched all of Downton season 1, am completely enamored. Waiting on season 2 as am feeling picky about the sound quality of PBS vs. Netflix. I know. #firstworldproblems

~ My college roommate is going to visit soon – have not seen in person since my wedding, I think? Awesomesauce. See above note about People I Like inviting themselves here.

~ Am obsessed with this blogger lately – Momastery. Oh, such divine wisdom!

~ Using app to explore Bible a little more. There are various reading plans to choose from.

~ Have picked up my crocheting again, the 6-year blanket that J.Lo has inexplicably deemed the Death Shroud. How rude.

~ Related: someone in this house is turning SIX. Is this okay? Not really!

~ Aldi is supposed to sell chocolateseasaltcaramels in a few weeks, a special buy for $2.99. WHAT.

~ We’re going to visit Ash in Athens in March! To see a concert! And the Hunger Games!

~ Scott has switched to decaf (epic), which means that a) I’m using the Keurig a lot more regularly b) I am drinking even more coffee because the there’s always decaf leftovers and it doesn’t make me all jittery and c) I may have a coffee problem.

love to you in Jeju -

(how glad are we that this rhymes?)

pen

pen-

2012-01-19T01:10:00.000-08:00

mind constantly fogged and hazed, described as distracted, frazzled and preoccupied
games played within a month of my dad buying xbox: gears of war, gears of war 2 and portal. had to get my game on before it was gone. right? uh... yes. right. also really perfect brainshut off mental escape. coupled with mass over stimulation mode. shake off the fatigue! keep playing! go back to packing! go back to playing! solve the mission, kill the bad guy, find the war journals.
things i didn't think about while playing: packing, leaving, packing, packing, packing, details
overloaded on: love, friendship and things to pack.
things said: this is the most unprepared ive ever been for a trip, details of said trip, no i dont have a place to stay in seoul. and, "i'm going to miss you most of all"... said mostly to twist and marley.
sad i didn't pay attention to the yard or finish all my gf bread? yah, sad about it somehow.
eternal frustration: transferring music files
hoping to actually articulate more thoughts on the other blog about the coming and going of me.
and more letters to you of course.

i would stop short of even sending this, but ive got it typed out. as it is the final bits of packing are calling to me. must resist throwing in bottles and boxes and continue to condense and refine. i'm boring myself with the rambling alone.

a (somewhat illogical) wringing of hands

2012-01-14T20:19:00.001-08:00

dearest,

Understandably it makes no sense that I’m preemptively filled with trepidation over your departure to the Jejubes Island. I mean, we already live more than 3000 miles and 3 time zones apart. So what if now you’ll be waking up around my dinnertime. There’s an app to tell me that, and rather than working out the math like a monkey on my fingers every hour of the day, I can instantly know – m is awake now. Asleep. Going to work. Eating breakfast. Living in tomorrow while I’m still in today.

And I’m totally excited for you! For this spectacular adventure. For solid employment and a substantial addition to your resume. For a beachview apartment – what! New food and new friends and Canadian cohorts. Absorption of a new culture. And what you’ll think of working with littles. We already know that you’re awesome with mine. And I feel like you’ll be getting to know a whole other side of God, somehow, and I look forward to living that with you. Because obviously we’re pretty established at this whole long-distance friendship thing. And so where you go, I go.

I think that must be it – that in spite of physical distance, our lives are fairly entwined. So I’m not just bereft at the idea of not seeing you until, ~~like, 2015 or something,~~ omg. I can’t think about that yet. But I feel vicariously the anticipation of so many unknowns, the sting of temporary separations in your daily life, the landing in a completely. new. world.

It’s big.

So from 3000+ miles away I sit here anxiously wondering, worrying, waiting, expecting. Cheering. T-minus 7 days!

To Jejubes Island!

xoxox forever,

pen

love, served 3 ways

2012-01-01T12:57:00.001-08:00

1. As referenced in Chapter 5 of TGABG, George Herbert’s poem, “Love (III).”

Love bade me welcome, yet my soul drew back,

Guilty of dust and sin.

But quick-ey'd Love, observing me grow slack

From my first entrance in,

Drew nearer to me, sweetly questioning

If I lack'd any thing.

"A guest," I answer'd, "worthy to be here";

Love said, "You shall be he."

"I, the unkind, ungrateful? ah my dear,

I cannot look on thee."

Love took my hand, and smiling did reply,

"Who made the eyes but I?"

"Truth, Lord, but I have marr'd them; let my shame

Go where it doth deserve."

"And know you not," says Love, "who bore the blame?"

"My dear, then I will serve."

"You must sit down," says Love, "and taste my meat."

So I did sit and eat.

Which all made me think of Christmas, and the ultimate gift of Love born. Is there really anything greater? How beautiful to celebrate it every year.

2. Also referenced in TGABG, Corinthians 13:4-8

⁴ Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. ⁵ It does not dishonor others, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. ⁶ Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. ⁷ It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres.

⁸ Love never fails…

Read at a lot of weddings, including possibly my own? I can’t even remember. I do remember reading it at my brother’s wedding. Love is at the root of mercy, grace.

3. Zooming us up to present day. The Herbert poem made me think of “The Ballad of Love and Hate,” by The Avett Brothers.

Love writes a letter and sends it to Hate:
"My vacation’s ending, I'm coming home late
The weather was fine and the ocean was great
And I can't wait to see you again."

Hate reads the letter and throws it away
"No one here cares if you go or you stay
I barely even noticed that you were away
I'll see you or I won't, whatever."

Love sings a song as she sails through the sky
The water looks bluer through her pretty eyes
And everyone knows it whenever she flies
And also when she comes down.

Hate keeps his head up and walks through the street
Every stranger and drifter he greets
And shakes hands with every loner he meets
With a serious look on his face.

Love arrives safely with suitcase in tow
Carrying with her the good things we know
A reason to live and a reason to grow
To trust, to hold, to care.

Hate sits alone on the hood of his car
Without much regard to the moon or the stars
Lazily killing the last of a jar
Of the strongest stuff you can drink.

Love takes a taxi, a young man drives
As soon he sees her hope fills his eyes
But tears follow after at the end of the ride
Because he might never see her again.

Hate gets home lucky to still be alive
He screams over the sidewalk and into the drive
The clock in the kitchen says two-fifty-five
And the clock in the kitchen is slow.

Love has been waiting patient and kind
Just wanting a phone call or some kind of sign
That the one that she cares for who's out of his mind
Will make it back safe to her arms.

Hate stumbles forward and leans in the door
Weary head hung down, eyes to the floor
He says, "Love, I'm sorry," and she says, "What for?
I'm yours and that's it, whatever.”

“I should not have been gone for so long…”

“I'm yours and that's it, forever. You’re mine and that's it, forever."

Which in so many ways is Herbert’s poem reincarnated. Except Love here is of this world. No greater Love exists than the Love of God. But we, too, can learn to know it.

May we all come to know Love a little more in 2012. Happy New Year!

love,

pen

pen’s 100

2011-12-29T04:45:00.001-08:00

1. a loving-and-not-wrathful God

2. grace

3. you – yes, you

4. e-pals whom I’d be wholly lost without

5. introversion

6. the ability and desire to make personal resolutions throughout the whole year

7. j-lo’s humor, patience and love

8. k-lo’s smiles, stories, imagination, sociability

9. n-lo’s sweetness, humor, quietness, independence

10. the gift of words, however questionable in value

11. family who I love and love me back

12. family who I love and remain mysterious entities – bc now we can ponder human nature in full depth…

13. bender and bailey – oh, bender and bailey! together and apart.

14. trees. hardwoods. branches. their composition against the sky.

15. cloud patterns, infinite

16. hills. mountains. even flat land sometimes.

17. YA novels and other books that are a balm to my soul

18. shows that literally make me laugh out loud. parks&rec, office, newgirl, himym, I’m thinking of you

19. knowledge and its crazy-accessibility

20. forgiveness

21. this blog

22. the revival of our writing group and cath as the hammer

23. my christmas tree, and the personal history of ornaments it contains

24. book club

25. church community

26. baby jesus

27. stars, so many of them – and the fact that I can see them

28. camping

29. ability to connect with friends old and new, far and near, online. miraculous really.

30. pinning

31. tweeps

32. the onion. funny or die. comedy is so not dead.

33. fresh, like really fresh, produce

34. prospective garden

35. this quiet street

36. k’s school

37. n’s school

38. chocolate sea salt caramels and that I got a bunch for christmas

39. an rx that actually works. most of the time.

40. aldi

41. recognizing god’s design, I really see it sometimes

42. music – and so accessible

43. libraries

44. free apps

45. trips

46. the teachers in our lives, both old and new

47. that n-lo’s greatest joy in life is making a new batch of jell-o

48. that k-lo is so much cooler and more socially adept than I ever was

49. cheese

50. that jason segal made a new muppets movie

51. fraggles exchanging a very special rock on their christmas. yes.

52. sunrises that I can see from my kitchen window every day, esp in winter

53. coffeeeee

54. the ability to exercise even if I don’t always wanna

55. opposable thumbs

56. contact lenses – the technology!

57. that I love to cook – this shouldn’t be taken for granted really

58. wine

59. gummy vitamins that don’t make me ill

60. caprese salad

61. samples “lunch” at the price club

62. they still sell i-cees! blue and red! at the gas station up the street!

63. bonfires

64. knowing many people who truly love bonfires

65. holy spirit whispers

66. stained glass, sunlit

67. snark/sarcasm – which to quote lane does not become me but sustains me

68. yoga poses, which I’ll come to know again one day

69. my gift of mercy, developed deeply over the years

70. my educational degrees, however questionable in value

71. this: 2 over-easy eggs on warm/buttered toast with fresh tomato slices on top and a sprinkling of salt, pepper and hot sauce. yes.

72. scarves

73. varying church service styles, learning to appreciate the form and nuances of each – although I’m still resistant to the grape juice thimbles. really.

74. a mailbox with a functional flag

75. clean air to breathe, even deeply when I remember to

76. the ability to cut my own and my family’s hair

77. the word “wonder” and the desire to seek it out

78. that andy on the office had a shelf of carolers like me

79. dwight’s homage to trans-siberian orchestra

80. entertainmentweekly magazine and the unexpected subscription from my longlost brother

81. that j.lo gave me a blanket for christmas bc mine is a complete rag. and that its rag status bothered him waay more than it bothered me.

82. the complete gilmore series

83. fondue, just the fact of it

84. katniss everdeen

85. that leaching is no longer a common practice (i.e. i am grateful for modern medicine)

86. eggrolls, especially the crunchy ends

87. cookie bars, especially the gooey middles

88. goodreads

89. that fall is my favorite season again

90. the prospect of snow

91. the love of spring

92. defying the norm to hate summer

93. running water, the miracle and commodity of that

94. word games with friends

95. rarely having to buy children anything – clothes toys etc they’ve been so covered

96. brilliant authors

97. hope, however full of shadows

98. online photo filters

99. city energy that can occasionally be indulged

100. the sweet feeling of relief at arriving home. even from the grocery store.

101. making it to 100 and feeling like there is more, much more

glow

2011-12-26T18:38:00.001-08:00

Additional glimpses, pen's dwelling ~

Penelobells,

2011-12-25T17:55:00.000-08:00

As i talk to you there are two guys on our lawn with drinks in their hands talking about my father's packard- as if the lawn was common property and the car on some sort of display. It's too bad my father isn't here otherwise he'd hobble out in a minute to talk to them about the glories of packard or at least dispense with yes, and no, and well actuallies...but come in satisfied that buying the car really isn't a thorn in all our sides. so maybe it's better the parents are elsewhere.

I'm half drowsy with sleep and decided for whenharrymetsally over apocalypto although neither really christmas satisfactory. And before that my dad's tenant came with a package and i had my hair up in a buntrumpador type style- he said, aw, youre sweet. As if arriving at some assessment over long trying to picture what i might be like, and found me amusing. I thought after catching sight of myself in the mirror that i looked ridiculous. And before that the neighbors granddaughter brought their homemade tamales to us in exchange for some shortbread cookies... dessert tamales, spicy tamales, standard delicious tamales. Peripherally I am surrounded by parties, presents and cheer, and despite my fresh baked apple pie, and the prime rib i had last night, i feel it all sort of grazing me but not quite penetrating. My uncle even offered to buy me a laptop offhandedly when i said no, my parents haven't offered to buy me one yet... and i was startled and thankful but it didnt' seem real. It still doesn't.

Maybe i'm in some sort of negativity bubble. It's possible. Suffering under the slog of un-gratitude? The two things i want for christmas, a phone and a job contract and neither have come yet. I'm a tyrant when waiting. I can see that books point exactly- dismissing all the good things one by one like that little girl at the party looking for the one thing that won't come... I had almost escaped the longing of all the presents until sarah was like, no presents? nothing? uh, no. i'm going to have to make jesus a gf cake next year. And determinedly focus on him... and yet what happens when my heart is impenetrable? i mean it's not but you know what imean. when i stop to think about the fudge i'm going to get and that things will change? and the the list and all the rest... it's the stopping and breathing part. it's the being in the present part. yes. that's the thing. Danica's mom was talking about how speaking gratitude and things your grateful for is scientifically now- proven to make new grooves in your brains cortex... new tracks, the good, making them deep and wide, speaking them over and over brings light into being... not for nothing.

well anyway. i turned it back to apocalypto and am rapidly losing focus. goodbye for now and merry christmas dear one.

m.

christmas decor,

2011-12-23T00:02:00.000-08:00

hello my darling penelope, i'm up later than i should be admiring how well my manicure is holding up. under 2 top coats. it was a good choice. the pink is softer than i'd like but it'll do. i did it myself of course. oh and yes, did a full treatment of the 'nads'... it worked amazing on my legs, and hurt like hell on my underams but it works like a dream. and i can imagine getting good at it or if i ever have money am now convinced waxing is fun... but it's not great on my sideburns and the dreaded face hair but oh well. it killed a couple hours while i distractedly pasted the goo on and got my fingers sticky. i know you wanted to know. all that talk on the sub-conscious and gratitude...

as suggested: ok, so this is all the christmas cheer i can take i think- though i've even been listening to christmas music if you would buhlieve-- distractedly as i sit by the computer and WAIT. i know its small consolation that you and i are living out advent in real time.

i'm more in love with this tree then i've been in love with anything in a while. i literally smile everytime i see it. i sigh when i turn the lights on. i want to hug it everytime i come near it. love i tell you. love.

you will note the kitty in the tree. mom predicted she would climb it and yes, there she is summiting bravely.

find the kitty...

this is the copper nativity i did- it's small- 1/2 dollar size, and the sparkly star- mmm glitter, mom made the form for. i did not get a good pic of the camels and the wisemen amber did but they were good too. i know, it was, well it all is a shocking display of productivity after months of not much... i do mean months. so the fact i did a couple necklaces, did my nails, made pillows and moved some plants around, and put up lights is saying something.

mom made these and they're fantastic- amber's idea and then mom expertly executed... she is good at the small christmas gift... and i've just decided my freedom lies in not thinking about what to give whom no matter how much i love them. maybe one day... but anyway onto christmastide and 2012.

dear subconscious,

2011-12-21T04:57:00.001-08:00

well I’m glad you’re listening at all times, really – and to so promptly field my complaint of “boring dreams” suggests the potential for exemplary customer service. I’ll put in a word with the Manager. But honestly, I could have done without last night’s series, in which:

a friend threw me not one but two baby showers (aghhh. no.), two nights in a row. one for in-town friends, one for long-lost friends.
a guest gifted me a set of spatulas at one said shower, and I’m still not sure whether she was confused about the occasion, or why no one advised her against the purchase, since they all had gone shopping together.
we hosted a bbq at our house in which random guests appeared – our realtor, Chris K@ttan of SNL and The Middle fame
Chris K@ttan cried about his life. he wore a red sweater. with a reindeer on it.
we semi-stalked a gay neighbor couple on a walk one day and stopped by their house, pretending we were regular friends – because we liked their deck. which they were staining. with a giant airbrush-type contraption. and one of the guys new we were imposters but was perfectly fine with our company, but the other guy faked his way through the conversation, pretending that he did know us and that we were in fact long-time friends. but wasn’t mad when we later confessed we weren’t and just wanted to be their friends.
we scoped their house for architectural inspiration
we tried to return a pitcher and a cooler at the bbq, but no one would claim them
it may or may not have been christmas, or a housewarming, at the bbq. I feel like it was both?
I feel like we weren’t actually hosting a bbq – but ppl showed up
I drove around on the highway in the town I grew up in. looking for…? taking in the scenery

It’s not that they were particularly stressful. Yet I’m perplexed and wouldn’t mind several more hours of sleep to recover.

xo,

penelope

Gratitude,

2011-12-20T15:14:00.000-08:00

Pen challenged me to come up with a list, since we're reading 'the good and beautiful God', which so far reads like a reminder if not a full explanation of very true things. It's a taste, or more like a hint of flavor, a bit heavily watered down but palatable? I don't know. Truth. It's working, generating some conversation- since Pen and I struggle so much in trying to communicate... so here it is. My thoughts on Gratitude...

IT IS an antithesis to expectation. It acknowledges the knowing, and being known. It seems it's heart is suffering, with a soul of God is Trustworthy. But I don't like talking about it. It seems a tender almost too private thing. It's like a gift that shouldn't be given on command or just because. When spoken without the story, it lies idle and dies, pictureless. It's too easy.

I pretty much reject it the minute anyone says that I should just go ahead and list what I'm grateful for like a build up to thanksgiving or as a just think, you could be way worse off- which always seemed to me a warped set of reasoning. I sense that to be obedient and disciplined I'd make practice of looking toward the good like i should. In doing so it protects me from the dark and that navel gazing self-destruction of dissatisfaction. Which i admit, for me has crescendoed this year, in the I can bear it no longer category. But I want to come toward it with sincerity. With feeling. Authenticity? I don't want the pain to be rebuffed, or the questioning either- I've done it, and will to other people, because when there is no answer, what else can you do. Direct them toward the light. It is hard to mourn and grieve with others without going a step further into bitterness. When your heart turns and sets in a brittle way that it was never meant to be- so we sidestep. It's hard to ride the road of the psalmist- with their weary bones, and their beseiged by the enemy, and the cry of Lord, are you with us? Where are you? TO...the final end of the passage when they say, walk and wait in the Lord, because He hears me and He is Good.

Everyone's cup of suffering, I think, is unique to them, and what one can bear destroys another. I guess i don't want my gratefulness to destroy the struggle, the tension-- the journey? I'm going through it. I don't want to stop and list off the things that keep me from drowning, because i don't know- it won't ever be enough to sustain me. It keeps me buoyant and light, with a beveled edge, but like suffering it's only the part and not the whole. Poor gratitude. I want to keep it unacknowledged. And it can be breathtaking- the vista- all the things in life that draw you in and keep you there- when you look toward them, when you nurture and foster the light and hope of things-- but to me freedom, and that is what i want, contentment in all or inspite of circumstance-- and that is a hard road of leaving behind and arriving, and waiting. It is not an easy trust for sometimes faithless creatures. And sometimes I just need to imbibe it and not express it. I need to keep the still tender and fragile thing there until I can step back from the distance and the long line of time and say, this is the record of God's goodness.

But so far, and for now,

the glow of the lights on the christmas tree, the reflection of light on the bulbs. because it's the universe. it's the whole intricate mess of creation.
my cats: the instinctual, trust to be built, looking at you and ascertaining, and building over time as the two natures of us and them collide and come together. those eyes. that twitch of the tail.
my mom, the sustainer and keeper and signal of God's provision for me. the burden seems heavy and i unworthy.
the mountains, sugared with snow, stark and hot against the blue, or dappled in all shades- it reminds me that God is outside of time, that they wait for Him as we wait for Him.
prime rib, He created us to taste, and i thank these cows for their sacrifice everytime.
my friends, not less important than primerib, but they are a reflection of God's knowing, of his creativity, of His delight. they are my most important relationships. even if i were to be married he would not surpass them in their importance.
my car- she's just beautiful. she goes.
the reflection of light as the sun comes west- reminds me of magic and of things unseen- of shadows and dancing movement.
my garden - God's infinite variety, intricacy, specificity, order and chaos.
hot water, demanding i drop what holds me up and knots me in the day
my computer, to communicate, i want, and explore
television, books, movies... there it is the world, we can't look away
praying for people, talking to God, has always been a favorite- there is always so much to say even without a word
salt, flavor bursts.
sugar, enhances
fruit- canNOT get enough. not ever. it's a gift. it's a sign of things to come.
the santa ana winds, mystical calling forth, ushering, whipping through, they come unseen
el nino- it rains, it does, it will come.
the LA river, bird life, reminds me we are literally NOT a desert
California, i am of the land, she is in me, and in the fiber of my being
my ancestory- the web, how time passes, how things move and seperate, what it creates, the history it leaves in it's wake
my hands to type
my mouth to speak
the phrase: ex abundatia enim cordis os loquitor (out of the abundance of the heart the mouth speaks)
the bible-- what a passage of love, what a saga, what an inspired word
Jesus, he was not just a teacher, or a good person, he was both human and divine and he died for us
the holyspirit, my communicator, my guide, my counselor, who knows when words and groans cannot express
God- there He is. I cannot explain him.
the trinity- there they are altogether. it is inexplicable.
trees, shade- life, roots and all sorts of analogies. hug worthy alway
art supplies- who knew you could render the world in such infinite ways
jet planes, because of that john denver song and because of wunderlust
glitter- call it dust, call it a sign of all things heavenly
just laundered bedsheets, stepping into that newness makes me feel wholly secure and a bit giddy. i'mnot sure why.
waterfalls- i imagine it must be what God's glory looks like
the beach because it reminds me i am small and a part of something bigger
the mountain where i belong and am among and close enough to touch
nails, because i love to pick and scratch
eyes, hazel, to gaze, to ponder, like ears
hymns, at christmas freely express
ecclesia's home, that old pagan temple to the gods of entertainment redefined
mirrors, but not too closely and not all the time
teeth, to play with, like toes, like chin hairs
7 continents, something solid and sure about the map
dolphins for making me cry when i see them leaping in the wild, because they are
dragons and knowing they must exist like unicorns, for their fierce flyingness and the fire thing that's cool too
music in general expresses emotion, come herald the morning with a sweet song
the way birds call and sing and fly- how focused, and about their lives they are
the lilies of the field, because i know how He cares for them though they live and die in a matter days
gardening, helps me stay connected to every analogy of such thingsin the Bible, a deep rooted understanding of stewardship, of caring for the land and the need to care for what is good in life, and the absolute way in which the dark can infiltrate-
dreams, God has us sleeping 1/3 of ourlives. makes me think i must be doing something while i'm lying there that has nothing to do with this reality.
little bits of things like origami bunnies, metal miniature etruscan horses, walnunts, dried oranges, leather purses, pictures, small bottles, feathers- the fascinating minutia
recounting the ordinary, that is where the life is
feet and hands, the record of someone so vital it rarely is recorded
wax, for candles, for feeling and burning and smelling and tactile loveliness, for polishing and enhancing
the sun, how it rises and sets
the darkblue glow before dawn, which to me is too pale, and that dark blue of prelight is where i like to live best
antiques, because of history, of story, of things that have come and will yet be
the written word, what a transaction
car washes because they are silly
mariokart because who doesn't want to race the world?
xbox where in i defeat ultimate evil or a gang of thugs, because that is right and it is good
the cello because i cannot play it but love the sound, so one day i will try just to touch it and know what it would be if i could and did
french, for the music of language, and how things once foreign can become known
it is the same with shakespeare, i can be bounded in a nutshell and think myself a king of infinite... but denmark, is a prison...
to the lighthouse- it grabs me that ennui
like proust, who goes on and on, and never quite grasps
archaeology for people who love to examine layers
dinosaurs because they were- it's habitat enrichment for humans
snow, for the way it transforms
empty city streets, jay walking, rollerblading, idly strolling, pondering disaster
the taste of flourless chocolate cake, divine, consuming, rapture
hummingbirds because they are too small and they go too fast, but when they take notice of you the whole world stops
chapstick and lotion, tending to the lips and skin
and gum for when you want to be productive
and meditating when you finally decide to rest and give it up to Him who gave you life
lists, for all that they are in their tyranny and beauty of there it goes one after the other
organization, aesthetic heaven, it's all coming together, the knowing of things
the crunch of kettle chips deafen but can't stop making loud sounds because i have to
like wind chimes, and bucket drums
for the mineral composition of everything in the universe
for people who seek impossible things, in delight and not slavery
for people who make it better and not worse
for carbonation, the fresh bite, the quench ahh
like bandaids and aloe plants that heal and cover and protect
like the solid front door and the substantial mantle
for wood floors that gloss and glide and reassure me
anything bbq, and cravings for longisland iced teas and certain types of martinis
quotable movies and good comedies
finally angels, they must exist, they do, there they are,
for the unexplained feelings of things we know to be true but can't record
what Love must be
what joy signals
the shadow of things to come
the feeling of finished things, of pushing through and accomplishing
the journey because i must
my chair
my blog
the revelation of truth, the shattering of secrets
the voice...

Pen-

2011-12-16T13:34:00.000-08:00

i'm a bit jealous of your lists. i dont' even want to dip into the horror of 2011. bodo died. shingles. no more govt. cheese. the one shining highlight was Chicago and the fast i think in August. i mean who doesn't love mystical calls written in chocolate and thinking yes, korea! so it's not that there weren't good things? but shudder. (aw what about twist and mortimer, awww.) then i thought, wait, so i relooked at your lists and they're objects, not events so i could do that- but i dont even know if i can remember. did i even read that many books? maybe you could give me some questions re: 2011- the supposed year of transition? did i make that up or was it on a fortune cookie? hmm. i'll get to pics of the decorations... but my phone is on the blitz. when the pic chip is working the center buttons for texting and answering calls is out... can't it just hang on a bit longer. no? meanwhile dad wants me to help him tidy up the new house for christmas money in a gross lack of understanding of my if it could get any worse financial condition. but i will. but only when no one is looking, like an elf. maybe what he means by xmas money is bills? i dont know.

oh and in my self-indulgent malaise- i can't buh-lieve i went through 4 days without mentioning the stellar christmas, i'm at the right-hand of my father in glory, jesus danica got. mine is hanging out in the heart of his ministry. getting dirty and doing what he does best. but her's has the whole world in his hands. pretty amazing.

so what else- eating kettle chips. watching a parker posey movie called partyGirl. she's jobless in new york without parents. lessons learned all around you know.

soundtrack 2011 #wordcloud

2011-12-13T07:09:00.001-08:00

books 2011

2011-12-12T12:26:00.001-08:00

sometimes I think I don’t take enough time to read, but really, cataloguing the list, that can’t be true. and that is a good thing, since I love books. they’re my favorite. here’s a top 10 of what I read this year, and the rest. book-wise, 2011 was a good year, filled with #goodreads. Heavily themed in post-apocalyptic YA fic (thanks, Katniss). And with several teen-boy protagonists, many of them gay, randomly? (thanks, David Levithan) all of them thoroughly delightful. And (obviously) some vampires/other supernatural awesomeness.

1. The Hunger Games trilogy, by Suzanne Collins ~ was so resistant. but wasn’t it so worth it? yes, yes it was.

2. Ready Player One, by Ernest Cline

3. Will Grayson, Will Grayson, by David Levithan and John Green

4. Once Upon A River, by Bonnie Jo Campbell

5. An Abundance of Katherines, by John Green

6. Dash & Lily’s Book of Dares, by David Levithan and Rachel Cohn

7. Beautiful Creatures and Beautiful Darkness, by Kami Garcia and Margaret Stohl (first and second in series)

8. Matched, by Allie Condie (first in a series)

9. Sisterhood Everlasting, by Ann Brashares (probably belongs higher in the list, but I’m still mad about it. #letsbehonest)

10. It’s Kind of a Funny Story, by Ned Vizzini

11. (Because there can’t just be 10) Beastly, by Alex Flinn

also, in no particular order:

Divergent, by Veronica Roth (first in a series, def reading the rest)
Nick and Norah’s Infinite Playlist, by David Levithan and Rachel Cohn
Naomi & Eli’s No-Kiss List, by David Levithan and Rachel Cohn
Evermore, by Alyson Noel (first in a series, will consider the rest)
Feed, by M.T. Anderson
Wither, by Lauren DeStefano (first in a series, definitely reading the rest)
My Name is Memory, by Ann Brashares (better be the first in the series; an across-the-room chucker)
Boy Meets Boy, by David Levithan
Awaken, by Katie Kacvinsky (part 1 of a series, will likely read the rest)
City of Bones, by Clare Cassandra (first in a series, not touching the rest)
Snow Flower and the Secret Fan, by Lisa See
Maine, by J. Courtney Sullivan (beautifully written, but a huge narrative disappointment)
Hush, Hush by Becca Fitzpatrick (first in a series, not touching the rest)
House of Night series, by P.C. and Kristin Cast – through book # 8

and, my book club books! which I feel belong on their own list:

The Weight of Silence, by Heather Gudenkauf

Second Glance, by Jodi Picoult

The Help, by Kathryn Stockett (rightful place is in the Top 10)

The Immortal Life of Henrietta Lacks, by Rebecca Skloot

Pomegranate Soup, by Marsha Mehran

finally, the “started but didn’t finish” (various reasons)

Crossed, by Allie Condie (was overdue, will check out again soon)

Girl Meets God, by Lauren F. Winner (timing – extremely picky about non-fic)

Modelland, by Tyra (because it sucked. wait, that’s not fair. because I don’t love campy humor and models mixed together.)

The Future of Us, by Jay Asher and Carolyn Mackler (because it was neither as surprising nor delightful as I wanted it to be. and I really wanted it to be)

The Lover’s Dictionary, by David Levithan (will return, esp after winning endorsement from ChiCath - just wasn’t the right time)

a group of “pretty good, but ultimately too young, even for my usual YA fare:

Every Soul a Star, by Wendy Mass
Parrotfish, by Ellen Wittlinger
Black Sheep, by Yvonne Collins

Thirteen Reasons Why, by Jay Asher (saturated in suicidal selfishness)

The Book Thief, by Markus Zusak (because it’s narrated by Death, whose voice is entirely too false-charming)

The Year We Left Home, by Jean Thompson (breach of contract w/ author re: characters)

and one with eggs on the cover, can’t remember the name (because main character insulted Asheville and mountain landscapes in general. we just weren’t going to get along.)

m ~

2011-12-10T20:27:00.001-08:00

When did we decide that exercising was completely overrated and possibly unnecessary? Like it doesn’t have any effect. It would be like refusing to acknowledge that mold can grow. Or that short hair doesn’t stay short forever. Which, incidentally, I hope isn’t true, because it’s completely higher maintenance, contrary to popular belief. I battle little sticky-uppies constantly. And they are not easily tamed.

But back to the exercise. No wait, I haven’t really solved that issue yet. Nevermind.

Project this week! Blog project! Blogject: Let’s post pictures of our lovely holiday décor. I mean, I’ve posted a few, and I’ve seen your pics in an email. But let’s put them all here, on this blog. Like the old days. Because since when are we back to plain old email with a little texting thrown in? Shouldn’t the world be privy to our conversation? Right then, let’s get on with it.

And yes, I totally mailed it, and mostly on time. Dec 1 to be exact. And if I remember correctly the open date is tomorrow? I want to hear the result! Demanding photo documentation! The world demands it!

Oh and we’re reading a book together! Which you can have on audio, btw, if we do that itunes file-sharing thingy J.Lo spoke of. I’m becoming one of those cute out-of-the-loop people when it comes to technology, I swear. Because frankly it makes me tired. And why not just ride coattails when it comes to setting up new services and signing up for new accounts and learning the ins and outs of blah blah blah and then it all changes again. But file-sharing. I think I could walk you through? Or else we’ll vid-chat again w/ J.Lo present.

My toes are cold and there’s church tomorrow. So I’m thinking about a nicewarmbed…

love to you,

penny.lo

penausage,

2011-12-07T11:26:00.000-08:00

why did we both decide lists and working out are pointless? we might be a little too symbiotically tied together. how did we start syncing together in our destructive qualities? both simultaneously signalling a passage through grief and endless waiting. of things ending. of calling it quits. of wondering when the year of the dragon is going to come thundering on in and blaze up new and good. it beats months of paralysis and plummeting into despair and negative balances.

as i sit typing, my twist sneezed and is chasing a small piece of sausage around the house. she most recently found a way out of the terminally cheap and illrepaired screendoor. i got her back before she got too far since the new passage out of the house had her senses all tremulous and freaked. as a sidenote i left the sausage burning on the stove while i went to get dad a pair of washing gloves for his workers? (it tasted fine anyway) who apparently as he says, never have squares or pencils or basic supplies responsible craftsman have. i guess that's what you get for hiring illegals? or hiring people who hire illegals? no work finesse/nuance?. for instance pedro just dropped off worker x and said, "clean the tiles"... i'm not sure what that involves but there it is. and if the guy knew what he was there for- it goes down to the question of art vs. hashing it out right and getting it done? hack job vs. skilled hands? do you have a love for it...does it matter? i think even small things can translate to love and care. like baking- no one wants to eat bitter lemon bars and hate filled gluten free cupcakes. so that when you say i made this or i built this, was it built with love? or greed? or avarice or lust for frosting? but i digress. did you mail it yet by the way? how is something intangible like love so important in creating things?

so, the job search continues. damon is convinced kang and he will help me find something in jeju if i want, but there are seoul jobs right now. and as we know seoul is out. there's a big warning flag there. but they wont be able to help until mid-january!? which means no job until feb. granted i know december can go fast and as a result january will go just as fast but come on now. jeju himself seems to think this is the case but i think i need to break up with him anyway. he is so not into me. i did just last night manage to get an interview for a job on jeju based on the cover i sent you all on my own!. also apparently jeju is known for it's strong and independent women? hmm. it's a sign right? i dont know have any research done though on how to interview with canadian expats married to koreans so... we'll see.

hmm besides that- i garlanded the house. it's taken me 3 days to accomplish 3 things on the list i made. one thing a day i guess? today and it's only 11 is looking dicey. maybe 1 thing but i can't promise more. saying i'm going to do the lights is probably paramount to a lie. ok, back to my vampire prosecuter korean drama.

m.

blank pages/things i’ve learned 2011

2011-12-05T12:31:00.001-08:00

I feel like I’ve managed to talk myself out of the importance of writing it down. Kind of like how I’ve managed to convince myself that exercise is completely unnecessary. Oh, silly human mind. But now that I’ve crossed over to those dark sides, even if they don’t make any sense, it’s a struggle to talk myself back over to truth. Like every single time. I’ve made more work for myself without really doing anything at all.

But I was thinking about things I’ve learned over the course of 2011. Good things. So not everything was bad. It never is.

I can cut hair. Without ~~much~~ fear.
I like this quote, a lot. Through to my core. “When one loves, one does not measure.”
I like school. Not going myself, anymore. When the children go. Me + Structure = Less Floundering
I want to learn to use a sewing machine. Officially.
We really are not in control. Cue: unseen deer hurtling into vehicle, leaving fur and cracked/dented everything in its wake. Repeat: never saw it, not once.
Me + Fewer Options (things to buy, things to do, people to see, movies to watch) also = Less Floundering
I require firm deadlines. For anything.
Libraries are the best places ever. (Already knew this, but know it even more.)
I learned how to can. Specifically tomatoes. Next year: jam, possibly pickles?
Relationships can often be mapped as a Venn diagram. Best not to forget that whole area-of-overlap. It really does exist. ~~I think.~~ Even if we’re talking about boys + girls.
I do not enjoy the genres of “camp” or “noir.” See: “Modelland” and “Ringer,” respectively.
I like peppers. Nearly as much as horseradish.

Um, I can’t think of anything else right now. But maybe we can keep brainstorming this.

For Your Review, novenelope,

2011-12-01T21:00:00.000-08:00

at first, i was resistant to this- hoighty LA store for some hoighty now appearing from NY to LA glass company that kerry just had had to go to. i have to say the smile booth made it for me, oh and the free mimosas. i was dressed like a complete slob- because i was finally helping kerry sort her apartment [a year later iou]. she did not inform me of the small intimacy of the opening or all the fashionistas there. i stealed myself, my stained sweatshirt, and my hairy legs to suck it up and toss it all down. i have to say this was our 4th attempt. we rocked it and the 3rd one too but that digital copy got eaten.

i mean, if i wore glasses...

smiling kitty crocodile.

the things you do for friends really. amber had all these pies she needed to hand out to seniors- costco run and then there they came off the bus. we found out that they found out where we got them and one lady who looked well like she could afford to waste or eat or give away pie went to try and take hers back to costco. all $6 of it? we refused to give her a label and concluded "we just didn't like her attitude"... i swear i'll respect my elders in korea.

divine.

hour and a half at the county clerks office. way to go van nuys. mostly nice people though but no visa? really? and a $1.75 charge fee. could you just say next time- cash only? ps. with only 12 people ahead of me this thing was going like molasses on a winters day.

i am the lion. BE THE LION.

[at the ronald reagan state dept bldg]

mmm organization.

cath says i'm so 80's right here.

what i've been having for breakfast lately.

and some other indulgences.

pre holiday wander with matt, who, though he lived in LA and was maybe 5 minutes from this exact spot, had no idea it was here. oh, hidden LA, you slay me. also this is our "river"... quite a lot of bird life actually.

on the day of, my uncle tries to explain to me how expensive a turkey dinner in 1931 was in silver $1.25. Compared to the cost of it today $25. He started talking about financial things and the gold standard, and then my eyes glazed over. [yes he does carry those things in his wallet as a reminder].

he got me back with this. honey is magical. has healing properties and is apparently highly nuanced. super tasty. of course they lost me again when they started talking about surface tension in boiling water from a microwave.

and this is me leaving the gated community. they're house is in the middle. the community arcs around in a bowl basically. something was suppose to be built in the middle here but wasn't... also i had to slow down bcs of the constantly freshly resurfaced speed bumps... and of course throw my printed guest pass away.

and yes, inexplicably... midnight sale... me and the two contrasting aries types.

their hair got melted in the attic...

and of course this photo is moms. she loves persimmins and apparently weird faces that appear after you're done eating them. no i'm melting.... [note also the bucket of shells i've saved, and no didn't part with- who knows what i managed to get rid of if it wasn't this. but they look so pretty in their glass jars now].

anyway, hope you enjoyed. all and all based on these it was a pretty decent november. no plagues. still direly broke. still with the anxiety and purposeless pacing and money borrowing and the physical listlessness but otherwise- yah, decent. ok, shrug, yah. what else yah got?
** oh yes AND i did get the gold starbucks card. ah yah, bright spot.

LL asked how i was to which i replied,

2011-11-30T00:06:00.000-08:00

current things:
-fancy bras don't fit in small drawers. do i hang them? and wear. it's disturbing the equilibrium.
-is tazmanian honey really that magical?
-taking kitten to get shots
-ignoring calls from citibank (everymorning at 839 and sometimes in the afternoon)
-all the etsy 'featured' spaces are gone. why'd my mind tell me to go there? who want's seaweed? come on now!
-playing a ridiculous amount of online racing with the mariobrothers and crew
-waiting, waiting, waiting to hear about jeju island (tomorrow maybe?)
-getting started on 'the great divorce' and the 'good and beautiful God'
-noticed i have a rock collecting problem, as well as an inordinate amount of glasses.
-giving away 4 boxes worth of crapolla to goodwill. victory. goodbye barbie dolls but the garbage pail kids, ok, lets keep those. i didn't say i was logical.
-hit square in the nose by a box with a metal christmas stand in it last night (how i might likely die when i'm older due to fatigue and stupidity filed under: ladder, boxes, climbing)
-watching 2 shows about vampires- dark shadows (de classeee, from the 60's) and the korean soap 'vampire prosecuter' (as you know, will he avenge his sisters death and find the "man" who did this to him?!)
-absolutely resisting stillness - result: eating gf chocolate frosted cupcakes, carrots, lots of tea, mindlessly up late and staring into space doing nothing in particular... certainly not talking to God. i realized that this was the particular condition- if one doesn't want to be productive, or is depressed, but occupied? resolving? to?... uh, maybe i'll... zzzzzzzzzzz. que staring into space. ooo or maybe have some cinammon raisin toast. yes. and some tea. walking sounds like it's going to take a lot of energy. and so is all this sorting. i don't even know how i did it.
-zero remembered dreams, apparently done processing ;)
-raw milk cheese is pretty good
-thanksgiving, ok.
-got a smaller monthly calendar after 11 years. don't know if i'm ready for that kind of downsizing. and yet there it is. will i adjust. it's like everything's in miniature. why'd i go there?
-splitting cuticles
-
-new pillows
-christmas decs
-what hair removal product do i use? nads/nair/wax?
-i just sneezed
-it's 11:14pm
-74f.
-goodnight.

2011-11-29T10:08:00.000-08:00

Last night, though i was tired and incoherent i tried to muscle up (into the attic) the last couple boxes and a smaller box and a metal christmas tree stand in a box until i misnegotiated up the ladder, fatally teetering, and the metal stand flew at my face and hit me square in the nose, and the smaller box came plummeting down in a barage of now splintered plastic bits and tinsel. The nose running, and eye watering began as i stopped everything, preemptively getting advil and a bag of frozen peas, neverminded the mess and went to watch 'vampire prosecuter'- a csi type procedural but with a guy who happens to be a vampire. It totally works. (Will he avenge his sister's death, or find the thingthat did this to him in the first place!?)

Which reminds me, as i run the pad of my finger over the now very tender area that I meant to tell you about the other korean drama called "my lovely samsoon". The characters over the arc of 16 episodes went back and forth from Seoul to Jeju a few times, climbing the dormant volcano they have there, as well as some famously steep steps in Seoul. It absolutely taunted me all last month. Seoul or Jeju. Seoul or Jeju. I started watching it for signs, but came out undecided- they could've done a better job of highlighting the texture and attitude of each city but really failed to inform me about both except for the use of public transportation and that Samsoon and Hyun-Jin are going to have a long road ahead of them, since she is a rice cake bakers daughter and he is a rich hotel owner, and we can only hope that Hee-jin starts eating again. So really I'm back where I started except that Damon promises me he'll tell me one way or the other by wednesday- which for them is technically today. Did he mean today? Or did he mean my Wednesday? I mean either way. Well it's 4 am wed over there. I guess i can give them till 4pm my time which is 8am their time... i think.

Otherwise, yes, I cleaned out all my stuff from the attic. Managed to get rid of at least 4 bags worth of stuff. I was impressed with my resolve to simply be done and cleared of a lot of it. I have 1 stuffed animal box 1 keepsake box- and 4 grownup mendacious houseware boxes if she ever lives in a place that is her own. The debate is over the now 2-3 boxes of christmas items- do i put the glass ornaments in a box or keep them in a plastic bag in their own cardboard packaging? Is my compulsion for matching boxes, orderly stacked doing me in? Obviously some of them are too heavy. That is also the problem. And now do i put the super heavy houseware boxes up in the attic? Or make room for them in the supply room? And some of them i shouldn't have unpacked in the first place. Except the one box where apparently i had left some triple sec? Which exploded into a hot oozing mess. Im glad i found that. These are the things i wonder about as i drift off to sleep- imaginary jobs, the ridiculousness of having all of this stuff in the first place... nevermind thanksgiving, and staying up till 12am to go shopping at kohls. Or my fancy new bras- which i actually must discuss with you. There's no room for them in the drawer that's full of the nowire cotton ones. I shouldn't have bought them anyway but they were half off and i thought new job, new bras right? I mean that is if in fact the job, whatever it is, is real and not imaginary. Only time will tell. I mean i really hope it's soon though. Mom can't afford to support me indefinitely. And my one uncle is too busy not accepting money for his site and my other is too busy ordering honey from tazmania and stuffing his mattress with gold. I know how that sounds. I love them to death. I get that they wouldn't even think of offering to pay for my gradschool debt since the one is too practical and the other thinks i should avoid the govt forever. I mean, i got myself into this mess in the first place but still... oh jeju, jeju.

Whatelse, whatelse?
m.
ps. found and am keeping the now empty box of jujubees you sent me post grad, something about thanks for the ... x and the 'kick in the back'... that's the part i remember. i would look but now it's in the keepsake box in the attic. is that why i like jeju, juju, jeju....

twinkle twinkle

2011-11-27T19:58:00.001-08:00

I don’t know where the long holiday weekend (and preceding week) has (have) gone, as it all seems to be a blur of preparations and delicious food and lovely company. And a video chat, and a thoroughly exhausting Voldemart trip. And church, today. And it does appear that the house is relatively clean other than some unpacked holiday boxes, and things are beginning to look both bedecked and bedazzled. So whatever is done, I’m grateful for, because really in my state of Low Energy/Hormonal Spiral, I could have hid in a cave for several days, napping, and been happy. So long as I was provided with a comfortable sleeping bag. And a bag of chips with a side of queso, please.

The to-do list remains, but there’s less pressure in the week to come. And I have a deadline for one project, as requested by me and thusly imposed by you. Always give me a deadline, people! Because I am a latent getter-of-A-pluses, and even though I now taunt the must-get-done list with a detached, observatory air of so-what-if-I-don’t, a good solid deadline will ultimately egg me on, force me into action. So November 30 was the gauntlet you threw down and I’m throwing down the same one on myself for aa’s novel, since she was too nice to give me a deadline waybackwhen – even though I begged! Anyway, I’m more than halfway done and it’s fabulous and belongs on store and library shelves everywhere. She must finish writing it.

Have I said anything of consequence, really? Well here are a few twinkly preview pictures to appease. Until tomorrow -

lost

2011-11-20T08:03:00.001-08:00

In the woods. And was this picture really worth it? I struggle without a DLSR. I’m limited. Only as good as my tool, right? I totally shouldn’t complain, because I do love my camera. But to capture the moon! An orange, nearly-full fireball moon over the river (and through the woods). Flanked by the leafless branches of late fall. Reflected in the strangely still water.

Okay, so it was worth it to get a closer look, even if my picture sucked. I walked straight down the trail as advised – but let’s note, why was I even advised in the first place? Does J.Lo really know me at all? Mwah. Obviously when I turned around I wouldn’t find my way back so easily. This is penelope here. I turned one way, and then the other and then back again. At one point I was close enough they spied my flashlight beam. But then I turned around again. Happened upon the cabins and boat dock. Pondered the possibility of leaving my human life for a vampire coven. The skills I would have. The gaping hole left in my vampire soul over having to leave the children behind.

Also, it would have sucked to have run across a possum or a skunk. Or a bear for heaven’s sakes.

Or to sleep outside with no blanket.

Or worry about anything past that. True survival skills and whatnot.

But I emerged eventually. No vampire bites. Muddy shoes. A bruised ego. And nothing left of my earlier beer buzz, but we amended that quickly with some scotch and blue vodka. And campfire light.

an unfinished letter pen,

2011-11-18T23:03:00.000-08:00

was it because we met in chicago?
i mean just this last february and not back in 2000.
pilot mtn and stvd rock...
aka turn of the century.
that we failed to inform each other of our camping
and our family drama
or complained much of friends and frenemies.
or that we had gotten so used to some things never changing
we realized there were suddenly things actually changing?
there are your children which always change and yet remain the same.
and we have not spoken of those.
and me and my not changing yet drastically so.
on the precipice.
and your hair and my bank account.
what else. when the ---- lifts we've got to see where the holes are.

- mariokart (add our number)
-chocolate covered honeycomb
-3 necklaces
-the exodus from LA
-not exercising
-the organized file
-salt baths
-showers
-not dyeing the hair
-koren dramas
-learning korean
-how am i going to teach?
-weight
-clothes
-poverty
-twist andshooting stars
-must spay/reluctant surgery
-indie rock and college radio
-400 photographs, 3 years
-not packing
-quilt finishing

Pen,

2011-11-12T23:03:00.000-08:00

So you know how we were talking about Adele. I have both 19&21 on my itunes. Further, I have no idea how they got there. No idea. Lucky day. I only like a few of her songs but now i get to hear them incessantly. Rolling, and Fire and Something what not. But seriously, how did they get onto my machine? No recollection. Also can she write about something else besides thwarted romantic love? puh-LEASE. gah.

Last night we had a proper if miniature lengthed storm blow and bluster in. Rattle my window and pound on down. It justified my being up till 2 for sure. Ah, a brief glimpse oh thou temptress, weather. Though those 2 unhappy texts @8am i got about going on down into hollywood at 9am... no. Frickin lotday volunteering nonsense. I believe i stated: ground cold wet. no go. resched. rain last night. The sun would've had to have been glistening in for me to even consider lifting my eyelid more than a slit before dropping back into my pillow until 10. And then kerry calling me complaining about outfits and wedding attendance. Shuffling in my superbly baggypants and flipflops i went on to prepare some teeth staining tea, flaxseed toast and eggs with yogurtpepperjackcheese and greenonions. And then played my itunes and sat on the couch reading about young flavia solving the murder of a mysterious redhaired man.

I believe i was having a moment, despite being confused that after 2 pears, and more tea, and the hour being 2ish I wasn't hungry for lunch yet. Pears, which I've ignored for years have suddenly become my thing, having rediscovered their perfectness when in season, a rosy glow on their oddly shaped green skin. Can't beat it. Sweet and lovely. But a bad pear is a terrible thing. So i can see why i broke up with them and ignored them for at least a decade. But for now I'm back in love. Guavas and persimmons are still curious but not catching. And the cats completed the picture, curled to my left, camped to my right and warming my chest. It was hard not to doze back off even though I'd already been up a few hours... the head was dipping a bit though.

And then I heard the screen door, and thought, please be today. And you know what, it was! There was THEE envelope. 9wks awaiting. I sluiced open the envelope and rather anticlimactically gazed upon the "no arrest record"- I immediately felt an inward lurch of wrongness- there was a name but not a "signature", the official watermarked highwhite paper but no as requested for apostille "seal"... I thought, fuck. I went to scan it in. Which was oddly easy given all my dads networking shenanigans and sent it off to be confirmed if i was crazy to both the canadian recruiter and the FBI liaisons...Damned Saturday. I then madly searched forums with an internal tremor and a, I'm so pissed at my lips... innately feeling that this rage was somewhere even if i couldn't quite find it, muster it really- it was missing. Just a, hmmph. The forums actually after the caddy back and forth of some finally cleared the way to tell me there was hope- i could probably bypass it, or if at worse send it back and wait a few more weeks. Gasp. If i have to. There are benefits I suppose to living in LA and I'd like to claim them especially if i have to pay $20 per document. But either way nonsense. Nonsense to be dealt with when i see a notary on Tuesday for my BA and hopefully hear back from the recruiter. Nevertheless there was an equally incessant but not actualized happydance happening in my head about pulling the trigger. And it's close.

Having done what I could I strangely went on with the rest of my day- I delayed lunch, with a bowl of chips as i went to help Amber hand out pies. It all seemed rather unnecessary but I think she was glad of my company though I have now shortshrifted callie. Sorry Callie! But amber has darkdays. I wrote it down. I've got to be careful... Anyway, I had to hear funnily enough a senior complain about trying to return her pie to costco. $6. Seriously. She didn't want it I guess? I ponder if they actually let her. It didn't have a label but still... off she went and amber i were both like, "i don't like her attitude." And amber said, I deal with things like that everyday. Godbless you. Because those seniors would be getting a talk to. I unfortunately have none of that generational respect when it comes to nonsense.

I mean obviously in korea it will be completely different but for now. No.

Anyway, that's it. Tomorrow is church. There was this '5 favorite things' party, and yes i could bring flowers, but... i don't know. We'll see what's blooming. Or not. I might just be anti-social. I'm bordering on uninspired even though -- i don't know. I may cave to the pressure. Danica and aut can be relentless when they think i should do something. And they're right i know. I could even bring pressed seaweed. It's like free advertising right? Hummm. And i get to take home loot? ach.

Oh and apparently after at least 13 years i bought a different kind of monthly calendar. It's smaller. Cheaper. I wonder. It might not work. What if I'm in korea. Well anyway. Ok. I'll stop. It's the tea i think. I might have to read more before i slip on over to the otherside. Who knows what sort of dayplanner i might need... i can't decide.

m.

These days,

2011-11-10T23:33:00.000-08:00

Lately I'm reluctant to get out of bed at all. The tossing and turning though finally does me in and the thirst and the general haggardness so I do get up. I've never been one of those lingering types. Absolutely possessive of the 8or9 hours but otherwise. I wish i could read a book in bed in the morning, like those grab a cuppa and tuck back in sort of people. Or the kind of person who pulls off nightware really well opposed to looking like a tangled mess. I wonder if i had one of those sleep # beds if i'd be restful when i sleep. Granted the dreams don't help but i've always been rolling this way or that. I do the same thing in church- one hip, next hip... i wonder if the whole thing speaks of being bored with the process. I'm not sure. When mom asks me what I've done or am going to do with my day, I just whistle now, in that arching "annnnnnnd, hoooooow" as i wave goodbye sort of whistle. I'm sure it says almost everything. And most nights i conquer the mind chatter with some yogic deep breathing exercises.

As you know i've been having some vivid time in imagination land too. I also got new floss, and have been taking long soaking baths. Which taxes our septic tank horribly but my whole body longs for the heat and liquid warmth. It pulls me to it. I think about it all day and think, can I slip into the tub and let the water rise, yet? I've never used bathsalts and fragrances so much in my life. I'm also, currently reading "sweetness at the bottom of the pie" and the poems of wallace stevens. Scheduling time to get that BA notarized (pain in my ass). Ordering prints from the last 3 years from k)dak. So there's that. But whatelse- Cathy sent me money and it made me weep. And for her birthday i'm going to figure out how to make her a cameo. Also I have both Adele albums- 19,21. Have no idea how i got them or why they're on my itunes... It was sort of crazy. But now i can listen to the 3 songs i do like over and over again. Bonus.

So, Last night I dreamed of 7 kittens. [which can speak of gaining independence or?] There was a whole lot of business about the wrangling of them and where they came from, and what to do with them. It was definitely like we were keeping them, and the smallest and last discovered one was a brindle- rustredorange kitten, smaller than the rest, and we definitely decided to name her "Chloe"... which means "tender young shoot" or "verdent and blooming". As I said to Lauralee, "I am full of portent these days."

Oh and I finally embroidered the name of the quilt, and my mom and my name and the year into the quilt border- which given how sluggard i've been lately was quite an accomplishment. I almost wept. It was even better than finishing the hedge trimming, or taking that long walk on Monday but haven't repeated since. As i said to danica i've enjoyed too much being maudlin and licking the salt and grey from my fingers all day long to do much else. In the same breath though i can be glad of your long waited for grocery. The good things. They're coming aren't they. Ways are being made. Pushed forward and opened. I'm going to write a poem about us i think. What our condition might be. I think...

m--

and for records sake: a jumbled mess and not much meat.
portent aka a list of all the images in my mind right now:

It started with:

The Ants: Everywhere, all around our house. Stealing resources. of friends. of mine. And the woman i asked for help said i should ask God to wake me up with a verse:
John 2. The wedding at Cana. Mary notes that they've run out of wine. Jesus says it's not his time yet but he does provide anyway. Which I pondered whilst camping- Mary knows the shame that will come upon them. I wonder why she knew in the first place. Sometime later la-cat was praying for me and that led to the bathsalts, the contemplation of slow healing and the tension in my shoulders, and the may your body have hope, not just my soul, which led to:
Psalms 16 "you hold my lot. the lines have fallen for me in pleasant places, indeed i have a beautiful inheritance."... which i didn't agree with. I wondered where it was. I asked. i went to the throne and said, but seriously am i missing something?
Which led me to: What is pressing down on my shoulders? (my knee has been hurting again) A golden statue of an indian fell off my back, and was then pecked at by a vulture as if it were flesh. It spoke to me as if it was about stolen inheritance... was it mine? Was it someone elses? Where did it go? Why? I stopped meditating. I thought it was too much too see already with no answers yet.
And then of course at the beach: The pelican and the 4 fishermen. I have often asked God, "Lord, where shall i cast my net today?"

pelican: pinpoints the fish, locks on and plummets into the water to get it. i resolved that i would most like to be the pelican.
the father: with his son, taking pictures and catches the fish, all experience and memory gathering.
the expert: two massive poles, 3 hours, 8-10 fish, 1 baby shark, 1 stingray?, and every single one thrown back into the ocean. drew lots of attention and questions and seemed relentless. maybe it's all about the lures.
the fly fisherman: endlessly casting and reeling back into a basket. river? why ocean? nothing caught. restless. exhausting to watch.
the recreational hobbyists: two friends, moving down the beach. catching nothing but talking. almost aimless or planless anyway. and then prayer on sunday,

a baby in a crib, a roman soldier- the centurian luke 7he knows jesus can just heal his servant from where he was because his authority extends beyond him, everything is subject to it... then ps91... he will command his angels concerning you... (the passage i've been teaching the meditation classes on). jake prayed that over me coincidentally... jesus of course was tempted by the same phrase...
and then the dreams: the woman, the child, the rasping choking, the "lord, give me my voice!", the nanorobots, the flying, the struggling, the man chasing me with a cat like face. the choking squeezing has stayed with me since.
and now the kitten named chloe. the verdent bloom.

and here am i, on the brink. the slippery edge of understanding. i need to make columns. draw a diagram. the truth about jesus//the indian//the requests//the lack//the expectant future.

but perhaps instead i'll crawl under the couchchair cover like twist and sleep. if only i had an analyst on staff.

happy farms

2011-11-09T10:31:00.001-08:00

At first I thought the background was flower-filled? And it is, except sometimes it’s all circles with diamonds in the middle.

So here’s my windowsill:

happy green onions – a week ago they did not clear the top of that glass

happy flowers from my mom’s yard, picked by k.lo

sculpey-jesus-in-progress – he has a random red streak on his blue robe but it doesn’t seem inappropriate so it’s staying there

And the fall leaves in the background, which speak for themselves.

Yesterday I was completely jazzed to procure new socks. It’s nice when they don’t have holes.

And today. Today I discovered the poor-girl’s-TJ’s, aka Aldi. What! WHAT. It’s weird, it’s quirky, it’s German. All the old people shop there. You put in a quarter to use the shopping cart and don’t get bags. There’s only one brand/option for each product. But this is all magic. Because I’ve come to loathe too-many-options at the friggin’ grocery store. And plastic bags – hate them! And while I value great customer service, I also hate too-many-people breathing down my back when shopping. And the cashier was super-nice anyway and super-speedy. And there are NO TVs on the end-caps playing an endless stream of commercials and inciting feelings of homicidal rage. And they have cheese! Cheap, fabulous cheese! Jalapeno havarti, for heaven’s sake! And chocolate! Cheap, fabulous chocolate! And granola! Cheap, fabulous granola! And cheap, fabulous apples! Cheaper-than-I’ve-seen-in-years coffee beans! Cheaper-than-the-cheapest-ever potato chips! And dairy products with the ridiculous brand name of Happy Farms! Which makes me feel like I might be carted off to the Happy Farm and held there without bail.

So it took eleven months – but M, I have a grocery store. A beyond cheap one that sells odd and delicious things. This is big.

Excuse me while I create several Aldi fansites, Aldi mugs and a set of I <3 Aldi T-shirts.

Or go back to crocheting my blanket, gluing sculpey Jesus together and painting him a beard. Whichever.

xoxox

pen

Part (XII) Seven

2011-11-06T22:11:00.000-08:00

First time I forgot our anniversary and only rememberd a month later while simultaneously hitting another blog low. 7 posts though for 7 years. "winning!" In other news i did muster the strength for a new blogtitlehead, even though the other one hit the struggle so precisely on the head, that was all we needed to say. There was the forces of darkness and light converging upon us, our joy was a weighted statue that was being anchored by time and sinking into an abyss... we'll see what this one does for us. Where's daniel to ask us questions when we need him? Biding his time somewhere and not watching the decline and fall of an unknown blog. Not that we're going to blip ourselves out of existence. Not yet. It's a good sign i'm being so caustic. It almost makes me hopeful.

m.

the book stack from @rd_morgan

2011-11-05T20:13:00.001-07:00

#thetwitterverse #magicalmailpackages #YAdeliciousness

I still smile every time I think about it. Where will I even begin.

seven years in ~

2011-11-05T19:55:00.001-07:00

Have we run out of words? Our experiences seem to be swirling around us (or maybeitsjustme) lately, with nary a note taken. And this doesn’t seem right somehow, because we are note takers, are we not? Observers and commenters and obsessers. Which isn’t even a word, but that never stops us. Maybe we’re just going through something. On the brink of foreign country expeditions and whatnot. Or an allergy to so much being-on-display.

October does traditionally suck the life out of me, although a) it’s not October anymore and b) fall is reclaiming its rightful place as my favorite season, what with the falling leaves. I mean, they literally fall and litter the streets while I walk, like burnt papery snow, and I love it. And I love that it just sits in the streets, along with the pine needles, like maybe someone should clean it up, but…eh.

Currently I’m avoiding the movie Hannibal like the plague and scourge it is by jacking up PandoraRadio and pinningthings and writing letters to you. If I had known that movie was filmed at Biltmore, my excursion there might have felt different somehow. Creepers. And despite the falling back and adding an extra hour tonight I feel like I don’t want to go to church tomorrow. I’m so antisocial. I suppose I will anyway. Maybe. Somehow I was recently roped into subbing as doorkeeper for the children’s classes and it’s totally fine because well I never contribute anything monetarily and stewardship has to take some priority? But I’m not sure how or why people assume I like and/or am good with children just because I happen to have two. It’s a myth I’m telling you. I’m not required to be there tomorrow but it’s been a few weeks since I’ve attended. Mainly the problem is I have no idea what to wear.

I used the fancy hairstuff today after my shower and I’m going to declare that I prefer the ElmersSchoolGlue. I said it. It’s true.

My windowsill green onions are growing. A lot. I tried googling what else I could cut and throw in a glass of water and grow forever but didn’t come up with much.

Sculpey Jesus looks like Charlie Brown at the moment but never fear. Someday he’ll have a blue outfit and facial hair.

Magnet paint is going to happen in the hallway. For art display. And magnet play.

Bookshelves in the living room as well as a huge book purge will also happen. Someday.

And someday I’ll paint the door red and the shutters black. But it’s getting cold and I can barely muster the will to mow the backyard.

While trick-or-treating the other night I stopped by the house that we almost rented like the nosey person I am and saw that a couple who requires use of a wheelchair ramp lives there. I had this total “ahh” moment of understanding about why we didn’t end up with that house. It was meant for them.

I’m making a leaf garland with the children. Except I’m doing most of the cutting and have scissoritis as a result. But it will be charming and so worth it, right? K.Lo insisted on Thanksgiving/not to be confused with Halloween decorations of some sort. I’ll totally take pictures.

All right I’m going to post this and then for Hannibal-less cover in the bedroom.

love to you this saturday eve,

pen

My darling,

2011-11-04T23:30:00.000-07:00

It's late, and i've had unsettling dreams. One where I was on an elevator that reached the top and once it did it rotated top to bottom so that we wre all upside down. No one seemed to mind. Everyone seemed to think it was normal. And then another where i was covered in brine or some dried saltly pattern after a sprinkler system had gone off in a huge office building. It's probably the epsom salt soaks i've been doing lately. They're leeching into my dreams. And backing up the septic tank too.

And i've begun to watch korean soapoperas so i'll let you know when 'My lovely Sam Soon' and 'Vampire Prosecutor' start invading my dreams. I listened to the first part of pimsleur's korean and when they prompted i was able to recall the answers in french. Of course that's not at all what was required but i was amused. Je ne sais pas. Je ne comprend pas. Tu es connais ou' mon fbi bgcheck? which apparently is actually said savez-vous ou' mon cheque.... est? oh well. Nevermind.

More on meditation and the rhythmless days later.

A brief dialogue from Pen and M.

2011-11-02T21:14:00.000-07:00

Date: Wed, 2 Nov 2011 19:34:27 -0400
Subject: Re:
From: penelope

To: mendacious

good grief i don't actually .... psshhhaw. ....an ordinary computer. .... ick. maybe...

... bank breakup! i totally empathize. those @(#*&@$...

...i spent most of the day .... about........ immortal ..... laguna .....dontjudge.

On Wed, Nov 2, 2011 at 8:22 PM, mendacious> wrote:

juuuuuuuuddddddddggggggggggggging.

Date: Wed, 2 Nov 2011 20:30:03 -0400
Subject: Re: ps
From: penelope

To: mendacious

omg. where is the middle-finger emoticon.

Oh, October (enclosed)

2011-11-01T22:38:00.000-07:00

i can't say october is all bad, except for the everywidening hole of financial despair. (please somebody by some effing seaweed. doesn't anyone know anyone anymore?) oh and the b/n near me has already hired for the season. oh and my mentor offered me the job of my dreams but can't afford to pay me, and i had a crazy dream that involved dogs with glowing red eyes and me saying, GO BACK TO HELL WHERE YOU CAME FROM! right after i anointed someone with oil and said, in the name of the father, son, and holyghost. for serious.

but on to better things, the pictures will attest that goodness and conversation pull me back from living in a deep thread of anxiety. just this morning i was doing some deep breathing and after about 7 cups of tea and 5 hours of conversation and peanut brittle, i calmed down enough to smile and be optimistic about korea and the current trajectory of my life. mostly.

here's callie. our badass friend getting thrown down and is about to fiercely wend her way out of it. go deputy blackbelt!

and yah, these are as dangerous and epic as they look. bob redmill rocks the awesomechocolatesauce. which this month has brought me to the um, ok, i'm clearly overeating.

but nevermind about that, look at my Twist!

and yes, this IS only 18minutes from my house. go VALLEY. go. who can resist the lighting.

same place, but emily was throwing a victorian birthday party. which trumped my anti-social ways. we played croquet. i tripped over a whicket to which sarah replied, sticky whicket. both of these photos were actually not staged.. if you can believe it ;)

and here is san clemente. i may have found a way to pee on the beach unnoticed- twice. but if you had seen the cliff i had to climb up, you'd understand why and the water was cold and rocky. and filled with fish and as one fisherman showed me, a baby shark. but don't let that throw you, forget about it as you gaze at the good time. filled with good food (not pictured sadly (paninis, brats, fritattas, salads and such), ridiculous warm weather and tanning.

post beach tea break

and yes, guess what i got when i got home. 2 wks!? what the what government!

vortex

2011-10-31T11:37:00.001-07:00

I know, I know. You won’t touch pinterest with a 10-foot pole. Which I totally understand. Because who needs yetanothersite to which you’re devoting your interest and time. And several other arguments against. But 3 neat things! that I’ve totally done and never would have thought of otherwise ~

Lemon sugar hand scrub, made with sugar, olive oil and lemon juice. Leaves hands lovely.

Green onion tips in a glass, situated on a sunny windowsill. Allegedly yields a neverending supply.

And! This is my own picture, taken this morning. J.Lo signed up to bring a 7-layer dip to a work potluck today, and I found this spin. There’s a glow-in-the-dark spider on top!

xoxo,

pinterested pen

party on ~

2011-10-28T05:01:00.001-07:00

There has to be words between us, always, as I’d wither away without them. I’m already nervous about your going to Korea and blogging in another language and attending tea with KJL, who will Look at Things. Oh, sure, you’ll allegedly be far from the barbed-wire border, in some Korean version of Hawaii, but let’s never underestimate the dear leader. That would be a fatal mistake. Here I feel like we need to picture Sh@wn W@llace in “TPB,” expounding on such matters. Although it’s not actually inconceivable, is the thing.

J.Lo’s party was a success. He did not go as the real J.Lo, who, did you see? is now doing Venus commercials. Like the same sellout brand of razor that lured Jewel over to The Dark Side. It’s just not okay. We can allow the mini car commercial, but the razors, the fake singing at the fake concert in the gold dress, “I’m your Venus/I’m your fire?” Really? I guess M@rc @nthony is demanding alimony. Is the only thing I can figure.

Anyway. Here are pictures of our rock-star awesomeness as P!nk and Barry Effin’ Gibb. Should I go full time with a nose ring? In non-allergenic niobium? Oh wait, that would cost money. And pain.

Speaking of pain, after the weekend, my entire right thigh was covered in bruises. No idea. Because mysterious bruises have occurred my whole life, but I really don’t remember that moment of “AGH! That is going to leave a mark.” Like walking into a coffee table or something. But my purse was full with a book and a camera amongst other things and did happen to fall flush with the largest bruise. So that’s the only thing I’ve come up with. The constant thwacking of purse against leg. As J.Lo noted, “Either way, you’re weird.”

And it’s a good thing the weekend was so fun and fabulous (rock stars! birthdays! goodfood! wicked beach house! AshMelTom!). Because the rest of the week has been craptastic. At least until Thursday afternoon or so, when my life-sucking cold finally started to go away. And my bad luck streak began to ebb. Summation:

-pulled over by Mayberry officer. had pink hair and barking dogs in back seat at time. didn’t have inspection sticker for “the state of Vuh-ginia.” because I’m stupid.

-frantically ran errands/quested for said sticker the next day. battery died. J.Lo summoned to rescue. new battery acquired. irony of sticker-questing/timing noted.

-sticker could not be acquired until forking over big wad o’ cash for new brake pads. not happy with predatory-type service in which they attempted to extract even larger wad of cash. I hate that.

-cold progressed, virus coursing through veins, total sapping of energy

-the Crazy is back, apparently every 3 weeks now. I don’t want to talk about it.

-calendar is absurdly full, too full. no introvert recovery time. emotional energy meter flashing bright red. due for recharge.

However, there’s a sculpey Jesus in the making and a magnetized wall for kids’ artwork being planned. (Because I can’t find my desk again. Covered. In things.) Recharge time not exactly imminent but on the horizon. And more words. More words. More words…

xoxo

pinky punky pen

I'm sorry,

2011-10-22T22:35:00.001-07:00

where are we?! Have I lost you? Have we lost ourselves? It's something we have to get around to asking everyoncenawhile. Are the words gone? When we only have our intermittent vocal/visuals/touchingbase-

It's not that October has been that bad to us right? Maybe it's just fall out from the preceding months of grim penniless existences- though my mom is God's provision for me, i still can't help but think I'm cheating? Maybe that's it. I haven't been too busy selling gold and trimming hedges. My butterfly LIVES. Why didn't I jump right on and tell the story of that, I helped to save it. I pinned its silken tail to an ivy wall and it lived, or wandering by a creek just yesterday. Glorious, in the heat of the blue and the invasive reeds rising out over the rushing water- talking about gold flecks and floating down stream. Or last Thursday breaking up with Prayer Council- i tried. The blog was called 'Cutting Ties'. 90% good 10%bullshit. The subject. The feeling of it. The truth of it. My life taking a deviation after 8 years of 1/2 living, of skyrocketing spiritual insightness and church stuff. Snip. Snip. Griiiind. Slowly beginning to turn the ship- but i can't pack for it. I don't have money to shop for it. I could start to study korean if i believed i was going. I'm reading a blog. I need to start getting into the korean soaps. But the list stops there in the 'waiting for paperwork' column. Has it been such a long preperation with so little physically to show for it. And the things, just breaking off and into the goodwill bag one agonizing minute at a time since? I've been doing this for months and months.

I'm cutting the roof of my mouth on the nuts in my appleflaxseed muffins. And i still can't articulate anything between the mint gum now and the lifetime movie starring FaithfromBuffy. And nordrack rejecting me, and the CAcreditunion accepting me. What else is there? I was just telling somebody the other day it's the little things in life that are fascinating. Just because it's no longer new to you doesn't mean it's no longer interesting and i'm sure the obsessive running of diagnostic reports, defragmenting, disk cleaning must look like something from the outside. If only i could tell a story about it. Or express the feeling of being stuck. Or on a steep and brutal descent. And how that must draw you inward and deep to a quiet breathing hard and trying not to go shallow kind of place after you've just fallen or slipped and went near to dangling. We're struck in the chest intermittently by a wave of panic or a feeling of wrongness as we walk. We think, what was that. What am i feeling bad about. It strikes fast and we have to chase it down and it takes a while and we think, oh that's right. Right. Ok. And we go back to what we're doing. Shake it off. We breathe a little better.

We relook at the lists, and the calendar, and the balances, the weather, the news, the FB, and we think ok. Check. Reoriented. I haven't forgotten something. It hasn't slipped off like the other pieces of gear in the fall. I still have those things. I'm watching. I'm x-ing off the days feeling half alive with a sinus cough, chronic aches, that the rest must be dreaming. That the rest must not be for the looking. I have only so many things I can take in where I'm at. Not more. Not that. Not those jobs. Or that list. Or that project. Or the words. Not those. It's too much.

m.

m's currants

2011-10-12T23:49:00.000-07:00

i'm getting alice's adventures in wonderland sent to me from daily lit.

i love it. do you do this? because i think you must, and love it also. (i wrote this to you around 9am) i never came back. before now. dun dun.

what happened you ask? no nothing like that. nothing, monumental. or yes, exactly like that, it was the ordinary everything that got me. and my obsessive tendencies.

i watered the pots in the backyard. my flipflops getting gradually wet even though at first i pretend i'd rather not, and the sun beating down so that by the end i was hosing the back of my legs and contemplating what it would be like to not have to water so many pots. also my butterfly is still hanging in there. the pin and silk are holding. the colors on his chrysalis look good. i think he might live. my tenuous living thing. speaking of, there is another butterfly limping around. the right wing doesn't quite fold in/out like it should. and ocassionally when i find him i set him on something that he can get nectar from. i hope he makes it. but his life seems more tenuous than the one i saved. and just the other day i saw two wings just laying on the asphalt. and of course i picked them up without a thought, until after when all i imagine now is a bird scissoring through the sky and annihilating the poor life.

it's not quite like getting headbutted by your offspring. which is purely comedic (maybe dark or sardonic depending on the cast and script) but very much like losing 2 jobs in one day. although you know how i'm going to celebrate 3 years of underemployment? i don't know either. but i think it's going to be in korea. that's what i'm thinking. it's going to be epic. otherwise selling gold while cool is vaguely depressing. as my uncle says that i should maybe hang onto a piece or two so that i can barter for food when the economy collapses. i hung onto the tennis bracelet. and the others, it did allowed me to pay for the rest of the passport, mailing cost, and another bill... i asked the guy if he was a coin guy... and he said, he preferred not to be labeled. okay... more on the guy later. oh josh. if you label me you negate me.

after all of that and a jamba juice i couldn't afford, fastforward to today where i leave my obsessive passport photo taking, to find out that i'm a month late to my credit union and they closed my account due to inactivity- after charging me bit by bit the $20 i had in there for not using it. the hell! (yah i knew, no i didn't do a damn thing until i found out citibank was going to charge me $15amonth) anyway, nexxxxt. all i can wonder about now is how to transfer my korean won to my bills in america. you see how my mind is already beginning to click over and i've only had one interview. if this somehow doesn't work out, i will be declaring that thing that michael declared that one episode along while back. and who knows what else. (insanity)

but back to passportphoto'ing: the lighting is a bitch, thank god i had a canvas big enough to be the backdrop, and why can't i get my hair right?! it's so difficile. but let's say that these will be 100% better than the previous 2 i've gotten in my lifetime. despite the haggard appearance i feel i have, all the stray hairs, and i know, i like the 3rd one too, the best, but i'm not quite centered. and so it's the large features of the 1st or the more demure and tossled 2nd look. i ordered both and am picking them up to staple to my passport app. and we must think of all the embossing and shinybusiness and what's going to stand out or fade back. but anyway... this took all day and all night and i finally finished, blah... whatever.

tomorrow is grocery shopping, target (photos), lunch with duff, and staring into space- oh and mustseetv and prorun. hoping also this sinus thing doesn't go the way of the lo.co.

love you pen, and your bruised face.
m.

current state

2011-10-11T17:41:00.001-07:00

This about sums it up right here. A bruised smile. I asked for a goodnight hug and K.Lo, in her sweet exuberance, full-on head-slammed me. My teeth jammed through the inside of my lip, summoning a fair amount of blood. This morning I noticed the bruise-stripe under my lip. With a slight pause in the middle, marking individual tooth impacts. Wicked awesome.

Otherwise, what does one even say. I lost my only 2 jobs in one day last week. So that was fun. I lived through a consignment sale experience, although I won’t know if it was worth it until the check comes in the mail. We ate cotton candy down by the river on Saturday. Somehow deliciously apropos. I miraculously made it through not one but two church services and a breakfast on Sunday, with children in tow. And the first two days of this week have been a complete wash. N, K and J are all downforthecount with varying sinus and ear infections. I remain standing. Ferrying children to the doctor, picking up prescriptions and Gatorade, making chicken soup and calling them all in sick. With my bruised smile. While the dust bunnies accumulate and several hundred things are left to-be-done.

dear pen,

2011-10-06T12:37:00.000-07:00

the kitten is nestled near my neck and purring. calming my breath. which is necessary in assuring me as i started crying when the chrysalis we'd been protecting that had stupidly hung itself on the trashcan handle was knocked down by one of dads workers. i freaked out and luckily found it not crushed near the mint and then after accidentally dropping it, doing some internet research, pinned it to a stick and put it back in the ivy. dammit. i was like, i can't take it. apparently i do not subscribe to darwins theory of survival of the fittest when it comes to personal encounters. for instance the other day in the park i kept feeding a duck with a limp leg and another one that had a partially missing bill. you can do it duck, you can do it. wahhhhhh. *sniff* you can do it little guy please become a butterfly and don't die. wahhhhhh. it's too much.

the morning started off bad too. weird dreams- something about a production and backstabbings and betrayal and drama and waking up to find my attempt to consolidate balances was denied. and then books i suggested were banned from a reading list. with a weird excuse of 'i've never heard of them'... and!? i suddenly felt censored. well quite literally. and jobless which is perpetual but this time i can actually use the term dire. as i am at the cliff. literally this time and not just heading toward it. and the girl who's organizing the teaching we're doing through october suggested we bring paperplates, napkins, cups and flatware to all of the 5 teachings we're doing as our contribution! are you kidding me!

nevermind it's all too much.
i may just spend the rest of the day sulking.

Pen, Enclosed please find the following recap of Sept. hugs

2011-10-04T11:05:00.000-07:00

we had just fjorded a major river, come over a hill and stopped to rest. i almost died on this bike ride because i was overheating like a christmas goose. i hear they overheat. and that led me to dousing myself with copious amounts of water before we biked the last stretch home.

faux marble- i was going for general impression and not accurate- they read dirty concrete. i can't please everyone. in only 3 hours over 3 seperate days... being rushed everytime... but what am i going to do for money this month. that's the question.

danica outing...

ah, mom and her bbq'in ways.

curiouser and curiouser

perfect match

new obsession

so frickin delicious.

we wandered here from the basement of our church. whoops.

hello tea.

hello spectacular weather (we don't get a lot so we were impressed, let me tell you)

xoxo,m.

pen-

2011-09-29T17:33:00.000-07:00

i was restless today. well after taking the time to crew cut the 20+ft hedge front to back. i see daylight in it's yet to be filled in spots which would've made me sad in years past but i'm trying to get better at that whole reining in nature thing... i didn't quite have the energy to consolidate the debris so the nursery has huge mounds of basket weaving material all over- though serves them right for putting hiabiscus near us which got to shaded and then developed whitefly which in turn effected like 5 other plants on our premises, and it's not quite finished on the left side but i need supervision as i'm cutting near a phone line. intermittently my life did flash before my eyes as i took the vista in around me while balancing the humming rotating blades in my hand. but there really wasn't anything to see and there was no transcendent breeze hitting my face either. i did keep telling myself sarcastically, yah, go ahead cut toward yourself with the electric hedgetrimmer. go ahead, do it. i am such an ass. besides it has way worse consequences when i cut fruit toward myself trying to undo years of mom and home EC, and then i went to shower and have lunch. and i managed not to once fall to my death. or hack anything that wasn't hedge. and now i'm all clean and fed and sparkly with nothing to do.

so out of boredom i went to get a latte. and now i'm all twitchy from caffeine-- i vetoed returning my moms purchase to target because i knew i'd buy something more expensive than a latte. and that's where i am. the day just sort of took an unsatisfactory turn in the last 4 hours. i should've gone back outside. that's where my energy was. wandering around the house and thinking about things to pack hasn't been fruitful. i spruced up the artroom, and whatever.. but eh. i need to get rid of the tv (20" boulder. couldn't i buy a small flat screen when i get back? or? no? i mean cuz that would be spending money...) and the printers i've decided... or should i keep one of them? i mean i can't decide. (1 lazer printer 1color printer 1possibly badnozzle color printer) ach. oh and a letter from citbank to tell me-- $15 per month i don't have $6000 in my account. are you KIDDING ME?! so now i have to break up with them. totally blows. sure i owe them money but uh...yah. i can't afford $15 either.canNOT. whatassholes.

anyway, i have that korea skype tonight. i'm thinking december and if there isn't anything in busan i'm not sure i'm willing to wait. i could always move mid year. lose my bonus and start again... decisions decisions. or first year seoul. second year busan? hummm. allright i better go. i have more wandering around aimlessly to fit in and dinner and well not much else but still.

friend,

2011-09-26T23:38:00.000-07:00

i tried to have an adventure today. i think maybe i came out ahead on gas money and good conversation but only grazed the unfamiliar. the book i was reading just didn't cut it either.

i was going to say, i woke up- then remembered what r.california said, that everyone since the dawn of time does this, so why start there? except to say it's exposition. but this time a chime from my phone woke me up in the middle of a dream i never left completely. blinking sleep and lacking focus. started my day because it seemed like the thing to do opposed to going back to bed. this must be a shared experience. filled with regret.

i spent part of that time as the computer hummed and churned awake (not a laptop) for creditcard numbers and pondered transfer balances. but gave up. made breakfast, noting the slightly overcooked scramble and the slightly tinged toast as i headed to the metro. because i have to drive 10min to the station makes me feel like i live in an unreachable place but also mostly absurd to then get on the train when i could keep driving and arrive in non-rush hour circumstances in about 25min. but the firm belief of "journey" and book reading propelled me down into the upper strata of earth. it went well except for the jumbled story i'd put off reading for 12 years. the idea of no 'e' in the entire text must have originally made me purchase it on that merit alone. i was feeling egotistical at the time i'm sure. but no more. goodbye book. i gave you 50pages and i skipped to the end and NO. i can't even think of the money i wasted.

so i rose out of the subway, taking in the pleasant glistening chrome and tiles and out onto 7th and metro already feeling after fighting to find a parking space in the lot (failing) and contemplating not paying the $3rt for my ticket (thievery) that the whole thing was off but i was determined to take it all in. then, i saw the starbucks wouldn't do as it was too small anyway. and grain was running latish. which just gave me a moment to ponder about being in a place i wasn't expected to be in, where there is a routine happening for people who come and go from there everyday. and i was just watching, but even that seemed forced. i wanted it to seem foreign, but i felt welcome to the story. i felt curious. i felt, ok, this is where i am now in the narrative. sitting at a coffee bean staring at a cigar shop across the way.

and then she came and we found a starbucks a mile or two away, not within the city proper unfortunately (already mapped and plotted not discovered)- i wanted tall buildings and strange shops, but no, near a food for less and homedepot right on the fringe of city. well there is something to free parking i suppose. and once we drove around the park to see if it was safe and not full of daywalkers i was too sleepy to even desire to be near the water and the fountain and we resigned ourselves to a shaded table on the patio overlooking the street and the mcdonalds back at starbucks (retracing steps). it is urban though just not narrow cityscapes urban...or joss whedons version of los angeles urban, perhaps... but then going there, that seemed forced too, and a movie shoot was happening on a side street near the park (i thought, at least somebody's working)... but then, there was a woman who was shouting angry things on our corner mid latte. unintelligible. angriness. i was in the middle of talking about a girl who is angry with me. who said, 'i am hurt by your words.' but didn't tell me why or give me an opportunity to fix it which made me level judgment in the form of- oh, here is the victim. here is the manipulator. and meanwhile the woman in a red shirt kept gesticulating and barking out words from her gut and head. and we couldn't help but stop and be caught up in them, we literally couldn't keep talking over the energy, and then, we prayed for her. it was all we could do.

bcs the woman was being fed on by her demons, and feeding them in turn. and i'm sure it started out because she wanted to be heard and understood and grain thought, yes, this woman, she wanted to be protected, defended- and she wasn't. and afterawhile in between a ups van and a white truck crisscrossing and blocking our vision of her she quieted down, and then wandered away. and we kept drinking and chatting and then it was time to go. and after grain dropped me off at the station i talked to cathy about journeys and never having the time or space to be bored, to observe, comment or construct... so there i was watching. and then after, took the wrong train, which seemed to illustrate the point as it set me back 20minutes but became merely irritating and illustrative of nothing as it was rather...ordinary, as did the waiting in a long line for my in/out burger... and the slumped into the couch watching episodes of twin peaks because i can't quite manage to cancel n@tflix. and then waiting for wendy to come over and talk about objects and memory and eat chocolate and argentinian sausage and watermelon.

so there it was. that was my day. come fullcircle and still waiting for an answer.

m,

2011-09-21T10:42:00.001-07:00

This morning while I was driving N to preschool, the two dogs that live up the road got a crazy look in their eyes and charged my car. One thumped headlong into the side of the car and the other bumped against the front. What the hiz! I had a little adrenaline rush and honked the horn and cursed while N laughed his head off at the “crazy dogs.” I mean honestly. The dog that thumped into the side is probably off the in the woods somewhere dying a slow death because I haven’t seen him since. The other one is fine. Actually, I’m sure they are both fine, as they’ve done it before to J.Lo and who knows how many other cars. But which came first, the chicken or the brain damage? One must ask himself.

And don’t even get me started on the owner. They are friendly dogs, that’s not the problem. They even stay in the yard most of the time. But clearly, not all of the time. And it’s one thing to follow a walker halfway down the road (which they’ve also done, rather sweetly). But it’s entirely another to charge a moving vehicle for kicks.

Also, on my walk this morning, a part-Chow mix that I never knew existed three houses down bolted out into the yard, barking at me menacingly. And then I decided to be adventurous and go down The Road No Vehicle Ever Travels Down, and lo and behold there was a truck on the road. And a dog chasing the truck. And then the dog started chasing me.

I’m having a Bad Dog Day and feel like it must be some kind of omen, but don’t know what it could be.

What is the nomination for at church and what happens with it once you go to Korea? And you’ll be an awesome teacher! What! Obviously.

I’m so excited for TV over the next few days I can’t barely stand it. Although I ponder Netflix’s decision to not update its Parks & Rec selection to include Season 3. Because duh, I’d like to see it again. Who doesn’t need more Rob Lowe and Adam Scott in in their lives, I ask you. Like I have time to watch it anyway. But just knowing that it’s there…

And of course it’s a bad week for technology. The whole “w” scandal with qwikster and the gross overload of information now available on Facebook. Kill me. My brain just can’t handle it all.

love to you,

pen

penpopsicle,

2011-09-21T09:46:00.000-07:00

so maybe don't mass consume 2 blogs on korea while watching the office and try to go to bed at 11. it will have your mind racing over the waters and in the classroom for at least an hour and a 1/2.+. in addition to some pesky prayer council emails. i feel like i've been vomiting words since last week on that front with low returns. it doesn't necessarily mean, i know, that i shouldn't have written the 1000 missives. but there is a lingering sense of futility. we have to find new blood. and i've gotten 3 nominations so far. we have to come up with application and interview questions too. there's questions about whether an email address should be registered to 1 person or 4+. there's questions about whether or not people start panicking when they receive everyones prayer requests aka how does one person intercede about it all? they guiltily delete the emails and feel like a crappy person. that's how. but maybe that's me. i don't think it is. but still. another small battle to fight. along with passive emails trying to usurp authority. and another not communicating at all. and meetings and going here and there. i'd honestly rather pack. even if its not my stuff.

well anyway, back to korea, which is another thing i'm waiting around about in between charging lattes as my only (insane) indulgence. i know i should stop. i'll stop. i swear. and also imagining myself trying to communicate with 4yr old korean kids who don't know a word of english. hmm. teaching? note to self: get books on teaching kids... wait i'm going over to do what? it's not just a prolonged vaykay? on the face of such anticipation it's hard not to check out of the life i'm living. that promise to start painting is lying mid-brushstroke, the quilt is close... so frickin close. why not finish up the loose ends and pack up everything right now? oh nevermind i can't even afford my car payment... and let's not get started on netflix. which i must decide about by saturday. i'm sure i care about my lattes more right? besides they were part of the sleepless ill feeling during the day of having watched a sad korean drama about an old woman and her effed up grandso the night before- it doesn't go well for either of them... which led to a completely scandalous period drama where no one was actually a stick redeemable. except for the kid who just wanted to find work shining boots. in the end i can only hope he found a better life outside the book. the whole thing left me feeling dirty.

meanwhile i'm staring at a note that says "go walk". definitely part of my problem. and the eggs are gathering dew waiting to be broken. so i'll go.

m.

the fake backdrop of my life

2011-09-19T11:42:00.001-07:00

I did mention earlier there’s a lake up the street from our house. I sort of gave up on the idea though. Since there’s a no parking sign out front. And a ridiculous hand-painted sign that says, “You need a key.” Which is exactly what my teenage neighbor said to me when I mentioned the closed-off lake. "Oh, you need a key.” What. What key! I hate the cryptic holding of information. Like what are you, the Wizard of Fucking Oz? Anyway, although there’s a no parking sign and a you-need-a-key sign, there is no actual sign that says you can’t hop the fence. So N.Lo and I parked the wagon, which luckily wasn’t towed, and climbed over/under the wire that I can barely take seriously to check out the lake.

There’s a paved parking lot that is seriously overgrown and a spray-painted swastika on the pavement for which I have no words. But there is a lake! It exists! No really it does. I did not paint this scene on a scrim.

penrolling,

2011-09-14T10:19:00.000-07:00

movie days. so my friend-quaintance matt who won that am@zon contest is shooting his new film and was just commenting on how not-film friendly LA is. you'd think. but then there are so many. eagers. hopefuls. that you wonder if it comes down to cash. because of the hassle. and the repeated requests. sigh. and how disrespectful they can be of people's things. grips for instance. but matt is mr. nice guy. how you can say no to mr.nice guy? i dont think you can.

i did get up at 7. we even cleaned the house. polished the furniture. washed the curtains. but then i like any excuse that's going to get me to clean. i even washed the windows! but then i woke up a little congested with a tinge of sore throat? that's what i get. also, i made lovely round pancakes for one of their scenes... but then of course one of the actors was an 1hr.20minutes late. if you would believe. totally outrageous.

otherwise what else- it's hard to articulate everything else. because this is where the stories are. sunday for instance we prayer walked and found some new uncharted places and ladders to climb.. it was prayer through the inbtw places. i think we found the walkway over the theatre. lots of debris. and then patrick said that his kid had said that jesus had cleaned the place out, or vacuumed it out and cathy and i started crying because of this other thing that happened a while back with his kid screaming and feeling unprotected, but now he feels ok and it was a beautiful thing. and then patrick started crying. it's akin to that moment when i said, He is my Father, He is my King- and then literally a split second later thunder rumbled. after that i got coffee with wendy. then i went to cathy's to kill things on xbox. and i went home and worked on my quilt which a little um slapdash but it's mostly holding up. though my stiches are inconsistent and sometimes wonky. whatever- gettin'it'done'. but it made for the best day. i made gf blueberry pancakes too. totally epic.

also i'm filling up the back of my trunk with stuff to give away which you know is one of my favorite things to do. things are finally loosening from the hold of stasis and breaking away. things like to hold on. they make themselves invisible. a tableau that says, you don't see me. i am just a part of a picture. it's years difficult to get some things to go. where you look at something. you even pick it up and touch it and think maybe next year. and the triumphant object fades into the distance. meanwhile mom just stares at me unready to have me start packing for her. if i had boxes...

anyway, i also just got this:

Hi there, they have arrived and they are gorgeous! Thanks so much for the extra ones - they shall be stars in a childrens show! all the best Shona (ps I have tried to press some of my own and they are brown crispy blobs so all respect to your skills!)

yea! mmm. validation.

oh and that was the other thing. rachel wanted to see if i could work friday and sunday and i have two prayer/church related meetings. i told her initially till 7 fri and after 1 sunday... but then i thought, i can work around it. change it... but by then it was too late. im a little like, oh idiot! and alternately, um God? because it is a job. even if the other is an unpaid job. and i don't want to be chasing after money when i shouldn't be. but still.

besides that, korea paperwork- tabbed, labeled, charts made, spending and saving grafts (ok its on a yellow piece of paper with some lines), and to do items...must photo for you. i sent my fingerprints to the fbi. im sending away for my duplicate diploma from CSUN... we'll see. it'll be official if i actually get a job offer. mwah. or speak to my korean recruiter... ?!

whatelse? kitten curled up by the oven.

more quilting. supervising film stuff... trying not to be sick?
m.

penelaissance

2011-09-11T18:50:00.001-07:00

So as you know, through texts, pictures and live video conferencing, I endured a veritable Four-Alarm Hair Emergency on Friday. I mean, I’ve been clipping away at my hair like it’s a friggin’ bonzai tree for over 2 weeks now. All stemming from a decidedly hair-brained notion to cut it sort of like Amber-from-Parenthood, who now has her hair blonde, buzz-cut on one side and flippy on the other. She looks completely badass. And had I not made a grave misstep during that first cut, I might have achieved the look. (Sans buzzing. I wasn’t willing to go that far.)

But I didn’t part it far enough to the left. Which was…fine. Sort of. For a minute. After some conferring with pen-friends, I flipped over the part to the right side, and sort of wore it that way for awhile, all the while trimming and trimming, trying to even it out here, or take out a little weight there, or whatever. It never really looked right for two weeks. But I was *fine* with it. Clearly.

Until Friday, on the brink of a full moon and at the height of my apparent Crazy, when I could no longer tolerate that damned right-side part. Killing. Me. So I flipped it back over, parted it where I should have in the first place, and did a little tweaking to make it work. And a little more tweaking. And a little more. Omg.

There’s an upcoming rock-star party in October for J.Lo, hosted by yours truly – well so far hardly anyone is coming, but that’s another post for another day, in which I direct a voodoo curse toward evite. But for a moment I thought I’d be going as Justin Beiber. And then it was like, no – Flock of Seagulls. No, no, no. And then, I thought maybe I had landed myself far, far outside the rock-star circle and directly into 1987 as myself. Which might have been cute, big emphasis on might, back in fourth grade. But it was not a look I wished to revisit, ever, ever, ever again.

Commence Four-Alarm Hair Emergency.

So after a fair amount of frantic texting, some more cutting and pondering and administration of Quaaludes, several hours of my life were literally whittled away and I landed on what I have now. And I am ceremoniously laying down my scissors. Not just because I like it. But also because letsbehonest. There ain’t much left.

Wasn’t I just growing out my hair earlier this year? Hmm.

pinned-up penelope

pioneer penelope

pondering penelope

paradoxically-parted penelope

positively perplexed penelope

and finally,

forever yours

xoxo

penelope pixie punk

m

2011-09-10T16:08:00.001-07:00

I finally found myself in the Tobacco District with a camera. And it was at twilight.

Penance,

2011-09-09T09:17:00.000-07:00

: something (as a hardship or penalty) resembling an act of penance (as in compensating for an offense)

On trial: Credit Card debt. Currently hovering at... 16,000. Before I became unemployed (2 1/2) years ago it was at 9,800. Granted I've put taxes on here, some stuff right before I got laid off that I was sure I could pay off, my car insurance... All of that spiked it up there but the padding was provided by meals out, nordstrom rack occasionally, and starbucks and who knows what else. Let's be clear, I've gotten so much better at saying- NO in the last year. But still now the gas is going on there too.

And frankly this penance could not come at a better time... as I've finally been cut off from govt. cheese, and CA still has the 2nd worse unemployment rate next to Nevada, and that there are no jobs in sight. Since a job that i actually wanted back in June didn't come through almost precisely 2 years to the day my last job interview didn't come through. And as this preacher said, you Mendacious, do not have control over the recession. No sir, i do not. Which makes me think to that carefree time in the back of that van broken down by the side of the road in Costa Rica and we were all talking about the economy and doing our part to stimulate it before its epic meltdown...But anyway, all that besides, I've wanted to teach overseas on and off since grad school. Japan. Iraq. Taiwan. All have been open to me at one time or another and finally now South Korea. I'm walking through that door i think. It's time.

On the spiritual side you can blame that fast I took in August and a tiny status update on FB and a mere suggestion from a friend-- and honestly it calls to abandon everything i care about- but not in the nihilistic sense, mostly in the God's hand and care and control sense. Which was a bigdeal for me in August... that taking what I want when i want it thing. It also calls for budgeting, goal setting, new experiencing, epic blogging and a trip to southeast asia as a reward when i'm done. That's win/win? I mean if i move to Busan I'm a days ferry ride from Japan...Shanghai China, HongKong, Tokyo... need I say more!? Oh and when i'm done I'll be about 5,000 in debt still... with my options open to me and hopefully no creditcards in sight.

Let's think about it. It might just be a good thing.

The Month of August in Photos Pen,

2011-09-07T09:02:00.000-07:00

I'm a little late flying into september already Pen, but enclosed below you will see what was the main preoccupation with August... clearly muffins and kittens. Flaxseed/Apple, banana quinoa and Twist, and marley and one really particularly hot day. Oh and Thorne and a really good rice/bean/cilantro medley...I was fasting and freaking out about finances... i'm much calmer now bcs i think i'm going to korea though none of the paperwork is done and i dont have a contract... still it's going to be a few months... so right now i'm going to , go make breakfast, go finish painting a set, and then to the beach... after that... ? figuring out skype..consolidate balances. getting through this current heatwave so i can make more muffins...

pre-autumn rainy world

2011-09-06T12:02:00.001-07:00

books found in the basement

2011-09-06T10:53:00.001-07:00

goodness

2011-09-05T08:32:00.001-07:00

chocolates. my favorite kind. from a northern chocolatier, which makes them taste even better.

n.lo’s new preschool folder. bright, happy. may his experience there be as such.

k.lo’s kindergarten folder. quickly filling. also bright, happy. full of knowledge. just like her.

candle with epically lovely wax spillage. formed during a viewing of better off dead.

up to season 1, disc 2. this is happening.

latest book club selection. my pick. meeting: sept 16, on the back porch.

stack of unread cook’s illustrated, provided by much-loved relative.

text photo of ew magazine, provided by friend. love exists there. I canceled my subscription, which hurts. but fall tv is coming, and that is good.

Mostly Sunny Hi 106°

2011-08-27T09:28:00.000-07:00

Another day of the hottest of the hot days. Where the night doesn't cool and where the house temp gets to 91 degrees which seems suddenly much cooler than the alternative- but not as cool as air conditioning which we don't have. And we've got a few more days of this. Amber says we should escape the heat so I'm going to see a movie at 1. There was some argument about what was the hottest part of the day. Nevermind her argument- It's not noon. Or 2pm. It's 4pm. Because at that point everything is at it's maximum. Inside.Outside. So technically I'm only escaping the temperature ratcheting up because I can guarentee when I get home it's going to be climbing towards 90 in my house. And coming home after being in a/c doesn't really help face the reality of it being 90in my house. Which is insulting obviously.

Some mysterious person suggested a library. I never go to those. There isn't even one close by... Ok, there is one around 2 miles away but it's on the bad side of town and there aren't any fancy chairs to sit in and I am thinking about the sbux which is 2miles on the scrubby part of town...but i'm fasting from fraps till the 1st. I could get tea. Or come home and put my feet in a tub of water, get the mister and the fan out and not feel bad about not being productive. Because who's productive when it's this hot- i wonder if really a/c's are a tyranny? i say that only because i don't have one... but then if i did i would be doing work. and by work i mean trying to print out passport applications and what not. I did watch copious amounts of tv yesterday, so much so that the tv made this, oh thank god you're turning me off sound when i did-

Well, biscuits, what else. A gf multi-grain muffin and some blackberry jam are in my future, and stupid crazy love. and maybe work on my quilt. and complaining about the merciless temps. So long for now, m.

penream,

2011-08-25T09:14:00.000-07:00

I had this dream where i was leaving an apt and there was one open so i quick went in there to use their bathroom? And then i saw someone and i was like oh hey, yah, i'm a friend of joey's- and you're oh? right- lou? right? Nice to meet you...It was apparently very important to remember their names because I kept waking up to tell myself so. CUT TO: I'm at a party and we are passing small white pills to one another via our mouths. It was a fairly intense party. CUT TO: I've got Bodo and Twist walking along a street and then am going up and downstairs/an Eshyer like labryinth looking for this guys apartment, then i'm in another place and find his apartment finally - it's number 5 and i just had to go back further to get to it, which opens up into a movie theatre and a guy offers me a job as the projectionist- before i can accept or decline something goes wrong with the picture and he jumps up to fix it. I fall asleep on the stairs waiting, and then the guy I was looking for realizes I was there, gets angry at the projectionist guy and starts getting into a fight because he thinks he's done something to me. He finally realizes I'm fine and comes over to me. and SCENE.

*joey means: He will enlarge/Hebrew
*lou means: Famous in battle

Anywhozille,
yes, that precipice of decision looms. I haven't heard back from the guy so we'll see what he eventually has to say. I love your shirt. It's pretty fantastic. Oh, and i was totally waiting till you picked up STP. I thought i warned you about it already? Hmm. Well Cathy had already relayed to me what happened at the beginning and i was like WTF!? The nerve really to go somewhere and ruin a perfectly good vacation for everyone. The nerve! No words really.

Anyway, ive got to go make breakfast. I'm all sorts of hungry. (24 days without a frap) AND the other night i had maybe less than 1/2 a tennis ball worth of prime rib and my body was like, hoooold on there sister! So you could say i'm still weening myself off the fast too. Not so bad though.

M.

m,

2011-08-24T07:37:00.000-07:00

I don’t know what my conclusion is on South Korea. I mean other being supportive either way and fully willing to execute the camo rescue mission with sidekick Bill Clinton if the situation requires. As J.Lo said, “Just don’t go hiking in the northern mountains.” Mmkay?

My desk exists. I found it again this weekend – it was lost, very lost. Obscured by many piles created by every family member. Bless their little hearts. (Now quit dumping shit on my desk.) Anyway, I took a picture so it would last longer. Hello, desk.

I like the quieter days. Indeed. It still feels simultaneously like there is too much and not enough to do. I mean I guess that’s life. There’s a topic drought in my freelance work (figures #greattiming), so I’m looking around. As usual. This morning I’m doing laundry and have plans to make oatmeal banana bread. Mmm. N.Lo obviously requires maintenance, as the little people tend to do, but my, it’s marginally less so. My little partner-in-crime. We play War and CandyLand and go to the library and daydream. Like introverts do.

The Traveling Pants have betrayed me. I won’t say why. But the reunion book ten years after they lost the pants in Greece requires great pause. So I’m reading another, less stressful book while I pause. Because I’m a little huffy and pissed about it all, really. I mean, how could you do that, Ann Brashares. How. Why.

Maybe a Gilmore marathon lies in my future? I’m thinking about it. It seems like time to go through the entire series. Which I haven’t done since it ran everyday on ABCFam. Which is a shame, because the DVD packaging is fabulous. I heart it.

Oh also I made another shirt. Mr. Quiet. An experiment. (Can I do certain characters? Why yes. I can.) I feel like it turned out well.

Do I, Don't I?

2011-08-22T14:18:00.000-07:00

Going to South Korea:

Pros:

Giving up control over things i most care about (friends, prayer at church, garden lot, twist, the HOUSE)
Financial provision
Financial responsibility
Taking care of finances challenge (can i save money and live on a budget!?)
Cultural adventure
Job adventure
Facing job challenge (teaching!?)
Facing cultural challenge (what did you say?!)
New experiences
It's only a year
They have starbucks in Seoul.
I can dream about writing a book i'll never write.

Cons:

It's a year
It's s.korea (it's far away man)
Should I be leaving?

developing prayer at church
fighting the good fight with the garden lot
the HOUSE

Questions:
How much vaykay time?
How much money can I save?
How hard/ easy is it to get things done and do stuff?
Do they have the internet?
Will it suck with the teaching?
What will i be teaching?
Who will I be teaching?
How difficult will it be to interact with the school... pay, beurocracy...? hours?
Will Twist remember me?
Will my parents wait until i come back to tile the bathroom?
I could get a mendacious substitute to stay at the house until i come back?
Will it be a positive to step back from the church stuff even if i'm not the one who planned and executed it and then i come back and it's all decided and what not?

... what else pen, what else?

dear penelope,

2011-08-20T11:37:00.000-07:00

it's saturday.

i always feel more alone on a saturday. not sure if it's because its a singular contrast to the abundant life of aquaintance i have on sundays or if its that sucking sound of being alone in the house when previous there'd be prorjects and activity and focus even if it's just laziness. or maybe the ground doesn't seem solid beneath me.

as a plus you'll get the best postcards from korea.

day ?,

2011-08-19T09:14:00.000-07:00

good morning,

i was dreaming of kittens and cats intermittently again. and the internal clock on my computer died. strangely enough. i had, i'm sure of it, a few years ago told dad that my clock stopped telling the correct time. which he ignored. but now suddenly its serious and warnings are popping up. dad says, and no, you can't do anything without it. i found the time had reset itself to 1999, january. at that time i was still going to CSUN. i had my thesis to finish. i'd applied to SAIC by the end of the year. agreed to do a missions trip to alaska at a summer camp- for free? what the fuck was i thinking. i was not. even then i had a blind optimism toward my financial situation. it was only when i got to grad school that i proved to be completely wrong. am i operating under a curse?

anyway i took the battery out of the mother board and am on my way to radio shack. i guess. oh also since i complained on FB i did get a tantalizing offer to teach english in korea. which i'm seriously considering. and a mysterious email from an aquaintence asking what i was doing on saturday from 10-12 because through some friends shes learned of a good way to make money. it sounds like a pyramid scheme.

i wonder what else i was doing in 1999. i'd go back to look but eh. oh yes, i was also working at barnes&noble. i was doing step aerobics twice a week and swimming. dreaming of rowing crew. finishing some idiotic theatre productions at school since my actual professional work didn't matter to them- working up to try and get the theatre dept head fired... i had a lot of vitrol back then. fighting with my ass of a thesis director which carried well into the first semester at gradschool. breaking up with my acting company. meeting lost loves. those were the days. all right i'm boring myself. is it good when the chaos ofyour past becomes boring? laughable? or what? i mean really i do wish i had more of my vitrol back.

next up flaxseed muffins. listening group. more episodes of eureka. also posting fur and vintage dresses on craigslist because why not. love you.

m.

time for another word cloud

2011-08-18T18:42:00.001-07:00

penelope,

2011-08-17T21:31:00.000-07:00

today 596 of 'the fast'. will it NEVER end?! or ever? i don't know. there's only 4 more days left but suddenly it seems completely unacceptable. i guess day 17 is my wall? where i get angry and start having deep animus toward everything in my life. which can be directly traced toward GOD. and sure i have a new long white whiskered kitten named Twist, and a shiny pink dress but that is not enough. i'm going to short circuit thinking about all the ways in which my life could be better- being a different person and not who God made me, having a job, being fiscally responsible... tyranny. but who wants to write a list trying to figure out a 'god not providing for me' 'failing myself' list which is humbly just a list of bills due. He has 13 days.

because honestly, any sort of thoughts i might have in the nature of impatience, bitterness, wants, desires, lacks and missings, while true emotionally just seems so, i know- arbirtary. except for the irresponsibility of not being able to pay my bills. but anyway. 13 days. I WANT DESSERT!

That's it really. Surrendering. I'd say that word is from Celebrity Rehab but i think i read it in beths blog the other day. i could totally relate. I suppose though finally my dietary constraints are met by the desert of my fiscal life. I had tried so hard to keep them separate but that's impossible. I should've lived on tuna and bologna? in grad school and i didn't. Is it God's fault I didn't ... well it's not like there was a joseph to tell me there was 7 years of drought coming. Nevermind.
I WANT DESSERT.

And i remember (unrelated to above) how i said, just think one day she'll be in kindergarten! And though this has turned out to be thee most dismal year for me of calamity plague sickness and recession we're still here- barely maybe- but finding some joy- some kitten and pink sparkly dress in our lives. this long record of complaint which has lasted i know on and off 2 years will in my memoirs be a few pages- maybe 5? in the scheme of things but we have to live and complain in the present. Here's to making it to our anniversary. Oh and to surrendering because we don't have a choice... *snarf.

m.

(ps. pro-run. i mean you know. it's there. it's sometimes a little colloseum-esque? that poor red-headed girl? lamb to the slaughter. what else is on? i can't even watch the new damages (bcs its on direct-tv). and after running out of all other tv and missing the end of my crabshow, and seeing sharkweek, i've now started watching eureka... and everytime i adjust my chair i have to glance down to make sure i dont roll over twist. i need a snack. wait what's that yes, that's right, what i really want is DESSERT. but can i have it? no. *suck.

the word desert

2011-08-14T19:23:00.001-07:00

I feel like we could add an “s” and have it be “desserts” instead, right? Because desserts are always better. But I’m happy that you’re surviving in your own desert of sorts, without animal proteins. Well I mean except for eggs, which I assume you’re still eating. Mmm, eggs. I’ve been on a kick with fried eggs topped with tomato slices. So. Good. Also, it was awesome to join you last week in your kitchen while you baked the second batch of muffins. It was like we were really there! I wish we were.

Tomorrow is the first hour of school. What? Just an hour. N.Lo and I will drop off K.Lo in her classroom while we head to the cafeteria to hear the principal speak. Which probably means read aloud handout materials. Which is fine. It will be in one ear and out the other and I’ll feel slightly panicky until I get home and can sit down to read what he just read to us.

I’m in a completely different world, all of a sudden. Kindergarten.

Did you know that we’re approaching our seventh blogiversary? What!

It was supposed to rain this weekend, but didn’t really. Not much. The heat is supposed to break soon. At least for a minute. The corn fields look burned to a crisp and I really couldn’t be happier – not because I don’t love fresh corn on the cob. I do. I enjoyed some this weekend in the form of a low-country boil. Which you might love. By the way. But the corn stalks – dead, papery, done. The precursor to fall. Summer might have been my favorite season once upon a time in a land far away, but not down South. Summer is just loathsome here.

I’m reading a book about 16-year-old girl who wields a gun like such a bad-ass. Felling deer, blowing her father’s 12-pack to bits. She’s on a journey up the river to find her mom. After her dad is killed. It’s one of those books you love instantly and want to recommend to everyone you meet, although I’m holding off because who knows how it will end. Endings are important.

Am jumping all over the place myself. Not ending gracefully.

How do we feel about ProRun? The impending ANTM all-stars? The impending ProRun all-stars? It’s all-too-much. But as long as Michael Kors and Tim Gunn carry on with their brilliant one-liners, life will be good.

More soon?

Yes. Word dessert.

xoxox

pen

2011-08-12T10:39:00.000-07:00

dearest, hello.

it's hard to type whilst holding Twist. she's purring even. i feel we're in another desert of words. the same stretch before us. for example i was reading my granduncles letters to my grandmother- so boring. the same obsession with finances and how he was saving for a car, asking her to sell his old one. chatter about how hard chemistry is at ucla. she must've been complaining... so stop going out on weekends and get honors because of the pending job crunch once the war is over. and similarly he is obsessed with tanning and good food just like i am. conversely once his duties in the navy took him to an island he simiarly complained that it would be lovely to ski and was sorry he didn'get to go the chalet like his sister. but i admit i was envious of his 3 hours a day laying out, drinking coconuts and snorkling for 3/7 days for however long he was there. at least from what i can tell he didn't see any action except for maybe the confined quarters of a submarine. and rifle assembly class but whatever he was doing was classified at the time anyway. i imagine i could look it up somewhere. he made lt. i know, and there is one sentence about one of his best pals being killed in action though he wants my gmother to go pay her respects for him. there's a few letters too from my grandfather but only a few- written in the worst scrawl about how nothing much is happening and thanks for the chocolates (private,electrician 3rdclass?). and then from his rather selfimportant brother in immaculate handwriting (graduate of westpoint) about how he saw the president, and so and so gave a speech. (he made general) i waver on whether to throw the letters away because nothing much is happening- how much can be filled in by historical research and subtext? and to make them interesting we're going to need a lot. my two favorites were one from my great uncle george who relayed that he'd heard my great grandmother had chased her exhusband out of her kitchen with a knife! and that she shouldn't delay in getting a restraining order! (from 1938!) and then a newspaper clipping about my step-greatgrandfather being interviewed after a theft at their restaurant: he bemoaned the loss of a choice porterhouse steak, nevermind the $2400- the thief broke in, took the money and cooked himself dinner!

i do appreciate just a hint of drama and daily life.

so my letter would go something like,

dear pen,
i hope your day is swell and the kiddos aren't running you up the wall. i'm sure they keep you busy as all get out. i've had a rum time of it jobwise, as there's not much around what with the recession and all. not sure what's down the line for me come september. things are getting pretty tight. and i'm practically white from lack of sun, though the grubs good and i can't complain much. how's the gang? and things over there? send pics. in your next letter if you can enclose $10 that would be grand and it would guarntee you'll receive a letter from me so i can buy postage and stationary. your letter took 7 days? how long did mine take? and didn't you know i adopted a cat. couldn't help myself you see. she was callin' to me and i couldn't say no. she's mostly black with the best white whiskers. well i better get on with it. so long for now, love m. (girl without a job) endacious.

or

i'm damned broke and tired as hell about it. can't seem to find a way around a job. but well, things will start looking up or maybe that's the light of the oncoming b train. and i've got to weed the garden and this rationing of butter and meat is the worst! are we ever going to see the end of it! give my love to the folks, m.

subtext:
in the dark hours of the night as the train moves along the tracks they know they are running out of time until they arrive at the station. only a matter of days before financial collapse and ruin. but what's worse is the interminable waiting. waiting. waiting. with dwindling supplies and no sign of relief. the waiting and the restless boredom of the day to day lull them into a sense of stupor, with only intermittent stabs of anxiety. they look heavenward. they think, God help me! but they can't manage a thought. the tension of what am i going to do next and how do i think myself out of this one to there's nothing much you can do but wait and see causes much tv watching and staring into blank walls. every project completed is a success against the mounting pressure of inactivity and the possibility of dooooom.

;)m.

another day -

2011-08-07T20:19:00.001-07:00

Another shirt? Why not.

Notes: After working with a paint pen – as seen here – I can say I prefer the Sharpie. The paint turns out a bit crunchy. And gets on your hand if you’re not careful. And it spotted up the dryer a bit. So I guess I’m not a very painty pen, in the end. HAHAHA, get it? *sigh

I love $4 shirts that fit right.

What does one even do with pink really. It had to be the right vibe. I did thief the graphic concept online for the cassette tape, as with the dandelion, with a few alterations and the text addition.

Maybe a pic tomorrow of me wearing it. We’ll see what my photographer can do. And of course, you have to explain what exactly is a cassette tape to the next generation… #WeRSoOld

***Morning update, photography by the fabulous K.Lo

my name is pen -

2011-08-05T21:29:00.001-07:00

And I have an occasional haterade problem. For someone who doesn’t talk a lot, or enough, or whatever. I can go off on a tangent. Pound a point home past a listener’s comfort level. Take the snark too far.

I just want to effect change, dammit.

But on the other hand, I wish sometimes that I would just shut up. Why does it feel impossible to do so? At least in that moment.

Perhaps I need to fast on words. At least the vitriolic ones? But then where would that energy go.

Maybe I need a mantra.

Maybe I should just pray? I could like, pray for those whom I’m all bitchy about ~~even though they are clearly beyond all hope~~. Could pray for grace ‘cuz that’s all I’ve got left.

Or just carry a roll of duct tape with me at all times.

Although – and this is my concession, my effort to extend the gift of mercy to myself, too, rather than just everyoneelse. Sometimes I think I’d naturally remain a little calmer, a little less inclined to step on a soapbox and stay there, shouting for hours, if I were allowed some guiltless (critical) time to recharge my batteries. Without ~~someone always in my face, 24/7, needing or demanding~~ constant company. Because sometimes I think my inability to shutup about somesuch topic that inspires somuch bitterness is also my indirect, unintentional way of saying backthefuckoff and givemesomespace.

Thank you for listening to my story. My name is pen. And now I’m off to enjoy some of that socalled aforementioned rare space and watch ProRun. With no one around. ~~Except maybe guilt.~~

xoxox the occasionally poisonous pen

Trust and Fast

2011-08-05T13:18:00.000-07:00

Day 5 of the FAST.
I have come to feel the apple flaxseed muffins are cheating. Though they are delicious. I need to lower their sugar content and try again. Maybe in half? But can you believe i haven't had a piece of meat/fish/cheese or latte for 5 days. The eggs in the morning are providing some necessary stability (is that wrong? should i not have stability?hmm.) and I'll try switching it up to oatmeal later. But otherwise I'm doing pretty good. The first night I had a slight headache but haven't since. Mainly eating quinoa, rice and beans, rice noodles, fruit fruit fruit and someeee nuts? I need more nuts. I'm waiting to revolt or really I need to vary it and try new things... i wanted to try adding egg to grated squash or sweet potato and making a sort of hash thing. Hmm what else... Maybe a stirfry. I'm craving bacon for some reason and everytime i see a sign for coffee i'm mocked. But those we'll have to wait. It's a struggle btw the letter and the spirit of the law here in terms of what to deny myself and what to let myself have. A little green tea and juice... white rice? Is that too far? gf bread... hmm.

It's a pretty bigdeal to see how far i've come in my life and my eating habits and the hypoglycemia and the allergies to let myself feel safe in cutting things out in the first place. And the lack of withdrawl symptoms for the most part is a testament too. Though obviously i love meat and i won't be giving it up anytime soon it's good to know the sustainability of grains and beans... It would be good to take this basic knowledge and carry it into the future no? I'm not praying enough though... or not once yet a concentrated time unless before sleep. The great secret and torment of someone who is chair of a prayer council.

Otherwise what else... here i am blogging. It's high summer and who knows what will come. Hopefully enough money for my bills this month and a job for September. My mantra?or truth? the word i have? besides is: The Lord sustain me. Trust.Fast. I'll have to remember this as i cut down my netflix this coming month.

august begins

2011-08-01T06:36:00.001-07:00

And I made a shirt. With a $4 selection from Voldemart and a silver Sharpie. It’s a dandelion. Now make a wish.

penstimine,

2011-07-31T20:54:00.000-07:00

i've finished a particularly savory piece of flapsteak. choicely grilled and slightly salted from crystals harvested in the pacific ocean. as yet another succulent taste of heaven. watching celebrityrehab and reading cs.lewis' surprised by joy- i have taken a break to reflect with you on yet another low month possibly 2nd only to April in ambivalence and lack of bon mots (in our entire history), of which is there really an explanation? except to say that we've reached a dangerous state, reflected in the suckatude of the whole of 2011 thus far, thusly dragging us to the unmined depths of silence and lackluster eyes glazed and drooping upon a too bright computer screen. it is surprising that i can muster this much description- lewis and the steak are probably the only reason, and the last iced latte i'll have in the next 21 days. (lord,preserve me.)

i went shopping today and dumbly grabbed beans and rice and instant packs of gf.noodles and gf soysauce, and a pepper melange- trying to think of anything besides tofu that i could eat as protein- quinoa yes- what else? let alone what sort of flavor combinations to concoct with no butter or cheese/milk- and only spices, onion, cilantro and ? oil... yes... given that i don't cook at all... well it doesn't have to be that varied or perfect right? but i digress. i will only pause in this ramble long enough to water the pots and for mom to hulahoop her abs into submission....

it took longer than we thought but i'm back- (reading cadfael mysteries aloud) oh and yes, borderlands. once you obsessively play it loses its luster but i found the strategy needed and the weaponry to be quite awesome and entertaining. the story thin as a wafer. i am only sorry i do not have xbox to play with j.lo online. my soldier roland was a good soldier, a fine soldier he was.

bruckner will be happy to note my soul has stopped rejoicing and now i'm a little sorry for yelling at it. it cannot, in teresian fashion, be blamed for the exalted heights to which it has climbed when with the Lord. alas. i can only imagine my whole self will start a full complaint at being denied meat, butter, and french fries... but nevermind, press on. press on.

attached below you will find pictures of july:

brainstreams

2011-07-30T19:33:00.001-07:00

I feel like it’s going to be another low-count month for blog posting. Which is sad. Because there’s so much to say! Right? I mean, my dreams could be their own blog. To recap for our reader(s), I had a dream where I was living in Vermont with J.Lo, and the couple next door convinced me to undergo a recreational embalming procedure. I know. I’m speechless, too. I obviously freaked out within the dream and reneged, but – ? I’m practically afraid to go to sleep again. What will that brain come up with next.

My throat is dry. My clothes are lame. Ideas to make them more interesting swirl around my brain. The annual spiedie contest is next week, and this year I’m entering the homemade competition. I’ve got a secret ingredient and method in my back pocket. The dishes aren’t done, and I hate that. There’s too much dog hair in the air. The heat is ridiculous. But apparently it breaks here a lot sooner than, say, October. That sucked. I signed up on a church committee to help out at a fair-trade sale. I picked up some add’l BS freelance work. I’m editing or eventually going to be an editor for a friend’s online literary journal. But not yet. And that one doesn’t pay. But that’s totally okay. We had a playdate. I heart my bookclub. I heart my online friends. I wish you all lived next door. Except I’d probably still be a borderline recluse. We have one tomato from the plant outside. That will be it. But my mom gave us a lot of vegetables this year and some of them were heirloom tomatoes. Which I heart, because they are odd-shaped and pink and taste like tomatoes should. I learned to can. Next spring I’ll learn to make jam. With strawberries. I now own a giant spatula this size of quesadillas and pancakes. I cut my hair again, and J.Lo’s; scissor-wielding makes me feel slightly powerful. I don’t want my baby to go to off to school, but every day I can’t wait for her to go to school. I drank two white chocolate martinis tonight. We made spicy orange chicken for dinner. Someone tried to steal $2000 of my nonexistent money the other day and the fraud department called to say they have to cancel my debit card. Which I’m incredibly grateful for, but still it’s sort of vexing. Who does that kind of thing. And this all explains the last part of my dream about the creepers couple next door in Vermont, in which a fraud officer showed up to say that same couple overcharged us for previous services rendered (carpet cleaning was apparently their side business?) and also charged me in advance – $10K for the fluids and procedural work required in the recreational embalming. Which was so not part of the deal anyway.

I’m still freaking out about it a little. J.Lo is playing Borderlands and seems highly amused – that’s your game, right? And I need to do the dishes. And then lie in bed and read The Help. And hope for dreams that feature rainbows and lilypads.

whistles and tires pen,

2011-07-30T11:33:00.000-07:00

There's a doc on netflix about whistling. I loved it. There's something profound about it. I wish i whistled better and that i had a relative to show me how. And according to my dads app my whistle is 90 decibels which is apparently as loud as a lawn mower. I would say more but that thought was days old. So is this one: lolly needs new tires. Maybe another few thousand miles. Maybe some $700+. Also and you already know, Cath cancelled on me for SofM. No words really. Not really shocked either. Just a slow but whiny deflating loss of air. That's what i get for buying something I can't afford anyway, walking the 1/2 mile up hill and waiting for an hour until the boxoffice opened. She says though that one day when we are in a jungle together she will let me jump first on whatever deathdefying thing we're doing and give me the last glutenfree fig newton. You know I will hold her to it.

Besides that I wake up every morning - the last 4? days- and my soul seems to be rejoicing. I wake up with a praise song on my lips about "you have redeemed my soul from death", "'praise to the king of kings", etc. It just slips in there and that's what i'm mumbling as i make breakfast. My self feels otherwise- more resentful of impending money crisis, but excited by friends sending her job links. My goal is to apply this weekend. But my soul is all fa la la ... i was going to find a quote about the condition in this book by teresa of avila but i can't find it and then i would never blog about it.

Anyway, the rest of the day is uncertain. The reading, the making of things... the daniel fast i might start... not from bruckner obviously but the biblically based one. Contemplating keeping yogurt and eggs and then the next week cutting those out... i ponder. Or should i just go fulltilt ?hummm. It's crazy to contemplate such a thing anyway. But there it is... I guess i can start blogging about it. . . pre day 2, assailed by doubt.

m.

Life in the Land of UH,

2011-07-19T09:39:00.000-07:00

Hey Pen,

Obviously not much happening. Grandma was sick but is now better. Had to ponder funeral (to go our not) and then realized with family you have small family then large family and i AM connected to the larger family so for that reason alone i might go. A host of spanish peeps from regions in new mexico formally of spain. My master plan is to make an uber family chart spreading across all the family lines as far back as we can go. Mmm, flow charts. It's so exciting. Also, Per, this photographer guy I knew and went to Joshua tree with died. That's sad. Some cryptic comment about him being sick on his blog by a commenter and now no more. I did have that vague sense of, aw but i had wanted to, if only we could've. Apparently he went up to the Sequoias, came back with a high fever and then died. It's not a bad place to have just returned from.

I have turned my reckless spending on ribeye steaks in his honor. I also bought the end of the starcatcher trilogy. It was in $5 bargain bin at Ralphs. Which is good peter pan reinvented fun. Also my eyes might bleed with all the gaming i'm doing. But anyway. The days are passing. Also, One of my dads other friend's wife just died of a stroke on an operating table. I would say it seems to be going around lately. But then it is always going around. It just seems to be going on awfullly close to me. Not too close but close enough.

And i'll i'm doing is quietly going through my days, collecting government cheese and thinking one day God, please prompt me, guide me to this next job thing. And thinking let me not die with all these photos still in boxes and the flow chart not done. The two top exciting things besides that ponderance of the inevitable, is the revival of my phone against all odds or so i thought, the comical plummet of it into the only nearby water basin (cats water dish) and then the canned air, the shaking, and the bag of quinoa- i cant stand the look of the new phones and i'm not going smartphone, maybe there really is a good deal out there somewhere but for now, and kerry bringing me a phenomenal pink dress that cost her $8 at a thrift store in west covina (read sticks). Couldn't believe it. It's an amazing dress.

Other than that? Meetings. Some spiritual stuff which has come to define the last 2 years, xbox and trying to get my energy back? This is life in the land of uh. Vague apprehension, but otherwise a pervasive sense of calm, monotony maybe? but then that sense of will it, and i wonder, and what if, that keeps me staring out the window at a sideglance, and ooo pretty, but all of it fleeting. Still midstep, still the engine cut with the anchor dropped, still blue skies and quick but infinite realizations. It's now July. It is now the 800th day...

Anything else?

the unfolding story of sunflowers

2011-07-17T07:54:00.000-07:00

You know you want to hear more.

Here’s the tallest.

And the smallest.

Working the camera, finding its best light.

And here’s one that fell over in the storm.

But against the odds is finding the sun.

Oh, and the promised picture of MORE BEES.

down in fraggle rock

2011-07-07T13:46:00.000-07:00

Otherwise known as Linville Caverns. It’s a short tour in and around the cave and back, but worth the $7, I feel. It’s been awhile since I’ve traversed a cave, and for the most part, claustrophobia magically eluded me. Until the point where the tour guide (who wasn’t ideal, letsbehonest – lacking in enthusiasm and coolfactor, although she was in fact very pregnant, so she gets some slack. a lot of it, really, considering) was all, this next part won’t be good for people with claustrophobia, so if it bothers you, stay back. And I was all, fuckit, I’m going! Right? And then I started to walk down the little passageway where people stood shoulder to shoulder while the cave walls bowed in and out to form a stand-up spelunking path, and my visceral reaction said, Leave this place immediately! Turn back! So I did. And the part where they turned out all the lights and you could no longer see your hand in front of your face was a bit disturbing as well, but I was so busy consoling the children, that maybe it didn’t bother me as much. Imagining the two teenagers in the 1950s or whenever who lost their lantern there. K.Lo, as anticipated, was the most wary of the Fraggle Dwelling and J.Lo had to carry her most of the way. But she did stick it out through the tour and once she heard we were on our way back out, she was all good, saying look at the trout in the stream and why’s it so cold and wasn’t this fun. I can’t really say what the pictures are all about. Because when you’re there you can understand the full scope of the twisting turning walls and passageways and cracks and curves and grooves and hideouts. But in pictures it’s like, umm, hmm, cool. Rocks. Let’s just appreciate the textures, shall we? And the fact of nature taking millions of years to form these drip-dropping multi-faceted shimmery-shadowy surfaces. For the Fraggles to live.

oh hello, nature

2011-07-06T14:50:00.001-07:00

M-zy. I still have to post about the vacay, especially the caverns. I haven’t yet touched those pictures. All in due time. But some pictures from today. The sunflowers are unfurling, while simultaneously acting as little bee factories. Which is sort of freaky, unexpected, yet awesome? Because we all know how important the little bees are. The better, more bee-covered pictures are trapped on my camera, but maybe I’ll get a better capture tomorrow morning.

And a katydid! I’ve never seen one before. Approximate size of this one, hanging out near the eaves at the front of house – maybe 2 1/2 inches or so? Not including legs and those crazy-ass antennae. Hello, katydid. You’re looking quite leafy today.

I’m supposed to go make some pad thai now.

bye -

xo,

pen

dragon in the sky, spitting fire

2011-07-06T08:57:00.001-07:00

Mis-Information: LA = Desert

2011-07-05T16:35:00.000-07:00

WE ARE NOT IN A DESERT. We do not, nor have we ever lived in a desert. There are deserts near us, bordering parts of us but---

The los angeles basin is a sub-tropical Mediterranean climate. Shared with, as the fancy map indicates very few places in the world. Which makes us obviously awesome, and i understand, sometimes short on water and yes can be totally blazing and YET... no, not a desert. Stop calling it that. Spread the word.

Areas with Mediterranean climate

from wiki:
Los Angeles has a Subtropical-Mediterranean climate (Köppen climate classification Csb on the coast, Csa inland), and receives just enough annual precipitation to avoid Köppen's BSh (semi-arid climate) classification. Los Angeles enjoys plenty of sunshine throughout the year, with an average of only 35 days with measurable precipitation annually.^[18]

we are almost this:
A semi-arid climate or steppe climate describes climatic regions that receive precipitation below potential evapotranspiration, but not extremely so. A more precise definition is given by the Köppen climate classification that treats steppe climates (BSk and BSh) as intermediates between desert climates (BW) and humid climates in ecological characteristics and agricultural potential. Semi-arid climates tend to support short or scrubby vegetation, with semi-arid areas usually being dominated by either grasses or shrubs.

for further reading:
http://www.physicalgeography.net/fundamentals/7v.html
http://www.laobserved.com/archive/2003/11/la_is_not_a_des.php
(good article on the hows and why the myth started...

L.A. is not a desert

Kevin Roderick • November 10 2003 1:01 AM

Ralph Shaffer is professor emeritus of history at Cal Poly Pomona and the historian who put together the website (and book) compiling letters published in the L.A. Times in the 1880s. In recent years, he has been trying without success to get Times writers to stop referring to Los Angeles as a desert, climate-wise. Simply put, he says it rains too much for the coastal plain to qualify as a desert.

After LAT style czar Melissa McCoy last week banned the term "resistance fighters" to describe the Iraqi bombers, Professor Shaffer directed his campaign her way -- churlishly borrowing the syntax of her memo that was disclosed here.

While "desert" is not an inaccurate term on its face when applied to some, but not all, portions of the county north of the San Gabriel Mountains, it conveys an incorrect although intended meaning when referring to the heavily populated basin. A more accurate descriptor, preferred by anyone who has had a course in elementary geography or climatology, would be "humid," which is the designation applied to the city of Los Angeles by Vladimir Koppen nearly a century ago in what was, and probably still is, the most widely used climatic classification system in the world. How the Times came to be the promoter of the desert myth is described in the op-ed piece below...

Now I should confess I've been guilty of using the desert canard, but after reading his case below I won't anymore. (I wouldn't have anyway after researching Wilshire Boulevard. I learned about the marshes that lay south of the road -- and about all the streams from the Hollywood Hills that fed them. One still flows across the Wilshire Country Club and through Hancock Park. There's a reason the rancho that covered the land where Beverly Hills sits was called Rodeo de las Aguas -- "gathering of the waters.")
Professor Shaffer's submitted (and apparently rejected) op-ed piece follows.

THAT DESERT MYTH: WILL IT EVER DRY UP?
Harrison Gray Otis has been dead for nearly a century and the Chandlers no longer run The Times, but the myth they created - that Los Angeles would be a vast desert wasteland without importing water from distant sources - remains firmly embedded among members of the paper's staff. A recent lead editorial, "It's Still a Desert," shows a continuing disregard for the reality of the city's climate.

Briefly, early in the paper's history, Otis actually pushed the idea that Southern California was water rich. In an 1888 article the opening paragraph noted that "Developments throughout Southern California show beyond doubt that there is a plentiful supply of water in our mountains and valleys to irrigate every acre of land that needs irrigation, and for every other purpose to sustain many millions of people. Every day the supply is increased...."

That view didn't last long. In support of legislation in the 1880s to divert river water for the purpose of irrigation, Otis reprinted an article from San Francisco's Alta California that characterized opponents as "in favor of restoring Southern California to its primeval condition of wilderness and desert," abandoning it to "the lizard, horned toad and burning sun." No doubt a bit of Bay Area snobbery was involved in the Alta's description, but Otis knew a winning argument when he read one. He resurrected it two decades later to coax voters into supporting the Owens Valley aqueduct bonds.

Over the years the "Los Angeles is a desert" theme has appeared regularly in The Times. Columnists, reporters, editors, politicians and op-ed writers all pushed the idea. A quarter century ago Remi Nadeau, quoted in the recent editorial, wrote in an op-ed piece that "Los Angeles is by far the largest city ever built in a desert."

Wrong on two counts. According to the widely used Koppen classification, Los Angeles and its coastal basin are humid, with a Mediterranean climate of winter rains and warm summers similar to its European namesake. In fact, migrants from the eastern states, arriving in the early nineteenth century, described a Los Angeles plain filled with ponds, forested, and anything but a desert. The ponds dried up and the forests disappeared, not because the climate changed but because resources were simply overused.

But even if Los Angeles were in a desert, Nadeau's statement surely was news to Cairo's residents, who thought they lived in the world's most populous desert city.

Given the city's mean annual temperature of 65 degrees, to qualify as a desert under the Koppen system Los Angeles' yearly rainfall would have to average less than 7.22 inches. That has occurred less than ten times in the past 125 years. To put it another way, with its nearly 15 inches of rain each year the city would have to have a mean annual temperature of 100 degrees to be a desert. With a temperature like that the basin's overpopulation problem would quickly disappear.

Just because Los Angeles brings in water from hundreds of miles away does not make it a desert. Nearly all of the world's largest cities, located in humid areas, have to import water from great distances to supply their needs. And no one seriously refers to New York or San Francisco as deserts.

Nor is it necessary to distort the climatic record to make the point that Southern California has too many people and too much industry for the water supply that is naturally available here. Lawns, azaleas and non-native plants can be supported by Southern California's local water supply. It's the region's unbridled growth that The Times should be attacking.

[Ralph E. Shaffer, professor emeritus in history at Cal Poly Pomona and
editor of "Letters From the People," an on-line anthology of letters to The
Times in the 1880s, can be reached at reshaffer@csupomona.edu]

jesus almost lost his head, A Note From M

2011-07-05T10:04:00.000-07:00

my parents came home at 11am and made lunch yesterday. they seemed to think it was perfectly ordinary. but true enough they didn't eat dinner until 6. and 7 hours seems too long to me between meals. i mean snacking could be regarded as evil but is it? i guess it depends. but whatever. i meant to tell you sooner but i received a few things in the mail. 2 postcards from cathy proving she was infact in boston. i don't remember her telling me about going to boston at all. it does explain her not returning my email all weekend previous and her subsequent text saying "i'm in portsmith"... but seriously she didn't tell me. and portsmith could've been a pub. and i was like hello, i miss you! even though it had only been 3 days.

and then i got a wee package from you. a little shoddily wrapped considering what was inside. ahem. i mean it IS a little icon of jesus. like you thought by merely putting it in plastic bubbles it would come to me unscathed but there's this ominous crack at his collar line. like 20 years from now you know it's going to fall or something and his head will go rolling and people will start screaming and i'll assure them it can be glued back on and that it's not some harbinger of doom. he is the awesomest little jesus ever. i'm sure he'll be fine. he is my absolute most favorite ever. and i'm so very glad he's here. next time you have to sign his foot though.

besides that i've been trying to jar myself out of lethargy. i've only managed to go walking 2x a week for the last 3wks which is an improvement from 0. i suppose now would be the time to try for 3x a week. yesterday i unsuccessfully wrote a blog and went to a 4th of july party to spend with my dear friend danica. as in reality i sat at my desk staring into space, almost took a nap which for me is a portent of low bloodsugar or serious illness. i did manage not to spend any money and tried to fend off the thought that i'll never find/look for/be hired for a job again. by the end of a marathon of watching damages on netflix and eating too many bingcherries i managed to finish a bracelet and redo my lenten necklace almost, oh and make sure no one set lolly on fire. of course mom was worried about the highly flammable eucalyptus being set on fire but they were fine. hispanic peeps love fire works. just like american peeps. but we 3rd and 4th generations feel more beholden to the law that says they are ILLEGAL here. which is a damn shame. where as even on christmas down in CENAM they were going off regularly...so you know the sort of light show i had not 2 houses down from me/all around me people thought spending money on explosives was the right thing to do. i have to agree even if marley and turtle spent most of the night in nervous combat crawl mode. mortimer to his streetcred' remained completely calm. so in the case with all the 1st and 2nd generation devil may care pyros the police can only do so much and that's a mostly good thing just this once.... God Bless America.

in closing, you can tell by the picture taken last week that my posture hasn't changed much. though i did do laundry. and those are the canvases i'm suppose to be working on. but nevermind. i hope your weekend by the lake and waterbyways was splendid.

enclosed photos c/o pen:

2011-07-02T10:33:00.000-07:00

well june wasn't as bad as the proceeding months except for when my cat got that mouth infection and seemed like he might die... still it seems touch and go and mostly a shrug the shoulders affair. but there was some mystery. some outings into nature. some danger and darkness... friends made up for it i think. so when i say 'm'eh' its not a reflection on you whatsoever. but m'eh.

this one is my favorite of the month i think. a reflection of spent daisies.

oh kitty, live forever. he's like eh, come on i'm 16 already. STILL i say. still.

this one below i was at the trendy 'coffee table'. my date was a no show so i sat there and read the hunger games. i just set out to photo the sparkly tiles but i'm pleased instead with the luminescent pool before me. i was reminded that its good to adventure into trend everyoncenwhile- but its back to the working class SBux for me in the future.

besides an excessive amount of fraps as a soothing mechanism... i did reach the 'green card' goal... so lo' and behold i get my soy shots for FREE now. its like a new light has dawned. who knew... anyway this describes my feelings on the matter of the month (not my feelings about the greencard which are awesome) while out and about with callie- i noted my shingles have moved to slightly tender but mostly recovering except for the ugly brown scarring so far.

i thought i'd flip someone off on my way to church. i was feeling misunderstood and unloved by humanity at that moment. i sent this as a text pic. i thought it was funny... ?

wendy and i before we tasted honey or got attacked by seagulls... a portent, surely.

oh computer! i have no idea what file is corrupt. please stop it.

somethings -

2011-06-28T18:32:00.001-07:00

I can’t say for certain that a few drops of rose geranium oil applied regularly to the dog’s collars keeps ticks away. But I can say it’s been a good week or so since I’ve had to perform a tweezer extraction and/or sighted one of the fatfuggers waddling around, drunk on blood. That’s all I’ll tentatively declare.

It seems that we’re one of the only few families in the neighborhood who subscribes to trash service? Which I find so odd. Where are all the other cans on Trash Day? Are we elitist for having pickup?

I wrote a letter today. And judging by the fatigue in my forearm, I really ought to hand-write more often.

I also did some work-I-love by setting up a flickr photostream. As an amateur. Who has no sights set on anything other than offering a view of the world captured through a cheap camera lens.

Mammoth sunflowers – they have buds. The tallest is *only* just taller than me, rather than the promised 7 to 12 feet. But I’ll take it. Next year, I want a whole field of them. A giant rectangle of former lawn-turned-sunflower-patch. Is this unreasonable?

And lastly: geese. I don’t know, m. How could one reasonably suggest to keep them as pets. They’re not all mean, I understand. They don’t all hiss and carry on. They do allegedly feast on ticks. But they are just so…grabby? Entitled? Insatiable? Honky? Yeesh. Their collective soul is like that of a teenage boy in your kitchen after sports practice. Except all you’ve got on hand is half a bag of bread crusts and no more. Which means you’re practically unarmed against the force of them.

Well anyway. Behold. The geese down by the river.

Mediocrity Revisited,

2011-06-27T15:34:00.000-07:00

: of moderate or low quality, value, ability, or performance : ordinary, so-so

she reads

the girl explores worlds. She holds hands with make-believe. She is not a stranger to the imagination and she is a friend to mystery and maybe vampires. She skips to the end because the journey she takes means something and does not want to be betrayed.

she writes

the girl puts pen to paper. Her hands to keys. She has many whirling wild words that are powerful, mightier than a sword on the matter of love, on the matter of pain- life, friendship. She knows about things even gross things like ticks and beautiful things like flutterbies. She sees things in a shimmer and in angles of light unperceived and in the dark places too- she finds. There she is. There we are too. Bring us there. She's doing it now.

she bakes

the girl has a taste for things and of flavors. Of textures. She creates. She makes things that nourish, bring delight, savory mmms. She twines memory with her hands and imparts the good and true things without saying a word. We all need to be fed. She raptures us from an oven.

she cuts hair.

She is as she goes like the bangle purse, the glasses, the boots—a bit of a badass. She has determined to mold herself into something creative and not necessarily in need of a box.

she doodles

as she says she must express.

she plants

to bring things to life, to add new fragrance and color to her life. She understands about living and the breathing and being of things. Of what it does for the soul and for the spirit. How it redirects the mind to glory, ever optimistic in it - there she attempts it, this simple exploration- tend to it.

she photographs

of late stepping up her game to capture the transcendence of youth, of her family life, and the sometimes zenith of herself.

she paints walls.

To bring order and mood into alignment. She is not immune to whimsy and the deep need we all have for the color red. She masters it.

she tends to children.

The little barbarians. She is after all a mother and that IS a full-time job. Why deny it?

she daydreams

and catches moments to herself. She watches clouds and flowers and grass. She is attentive to the humming buzzing universe and it's right at the tip of her senses. She loses herself there sometimes. The what ifs, could bes mind talking to soul and God stuff.

she analyzes

a mind that’s sharp and sometimes lies, is cruel to itself but also kind— the path networked at her skin.

she respects the need for rules (while at the same time despising the constructs).

She is Penelope after all- sometimes anxious and rebellious, but mostly a builder of life- she does not like to risk the stability of that simple and yet complex -- paradoxical? fact.

she wonders

worlds. Wonders relationship. Wonders tension. Wonders God. She vibrates.

she observes

takes notes, rolls her eyes. She is not immune. She nods her head in approval too.

she snarks

see above.

she calls bullshit

see above.

she demands

of life answers, of herself, her children, her husband. We would call this passion. We would call this fight.

she listens

and catches what she can.

she feels

and expresses when she’s ready.

she cares.

Deeply.

she has no idea what to do with any of it.

that last one shouldn’t be a talent

but it is

it’s not a boohoo

just a statement –

she’s a pen of many small trades

master of none.

I KNOW, but i need to say still,

It is not the parts but the sum total that makes a life excel. And you are. The whole of you says, I create. I bring into being. The whole of you says you hum with a life that is extraordinary-- full of fight and effort. It does not seem so, but it is true. The words and actions get lost against the judgment we confer upon ourselves. How small we make ourselves. I understand. I identify. I have my own list but i had to tell you anyway.

m.

the mediocre talents of pen

2011-06-26T08:24:00.000-07:00

she reads

she writes

she bakes

she cuts hair.

she doodles

she plants

she photographs

she paints walls.

she tends to children.

she daydreams

she analyzes

she respects the need for rules

(while at the same time despising the constructs).

she wonders

she observes

she snarks

she calls bullshit

she demands

she listens

she feels

she cares.

she has no idea what to do with any of it.

that last one shouldn’t be a talent

but it is

it’s not a boohoo

just a statement –

she’s a pen of many small trades

master of none.

Penelope,

2011-06-24T17:22:00.000-07:00

i got there thinking she would come out but she wasn't ready. she suggests in fact that things have become unhinged. instead of the park or a walk how about taking me to a drug test? random. calling everyday. averaging every 2 wks or so.

the place was less of a mess but the headache creeping up the right side of my skull was the same. i noted the new kitten. the beta fish. i stared at a new rug that had the astrology signs in place of the rug that said blessings... over the stain from where the junky had died. that one time. we made idle chit-chat and she dipped down unprovoked to complain about her mother. about the babydaddy. she still has the most beautiful burnish almond colored eyes. as they flashed at me when i challenged her on a point. her cheaks more sunken and the sores deep. the devastating fact that her daughter might not be home for christmas, or new years. a slew of missed holidays maybe. i said that they can come back from that. and over all the things lodged in her daughters memory that might not be the most hurtful thing. she might not even remember. i thought, compared to the other things. and anyway its for her daughter to heal and to come back from. to battle up and out God only knows how. i remember thinking i? helped talk her out of getting an abortion in the first place. i had said, you can't even abort your own cat's babies. think about this. and now she is in a flash on a trajectory away from her mother but not quite out of her life. not yet. and i think, would it have been better? and i think no.

and then out of the corner of my eye i see him- the villain, second only to her mother but surely the source of all that is mostly unholy. he gives me a quick glance and says, oh hello. startled. i say, she's in there (pointing to the bedroom as he darts past me) at which point over listening in i duck out and play with the kitten. he comes back out and passes me again outside, says, have fun. quietly. as if not to wake or anger me. i watch him go. she says he's been hiding out upstairs at somebodys apt. for 2 weeks. but he came in quite casually so... of course i hadn't seen him in 6 years until that moment but nevermind. something about a lojacked laptop and jail for a few days. and somehow even with 50,000 in a safe somewhere she's going to lose her apartment in a week. but i dont' know.

and then i said, looking through the gated door, are you ready to go. so we drove to get her subway. i wasn't hungry. and we went to ADARP. it isn't quite clear if she'll fail though she says since HE slammed her foot in a? door? until the hinges came off? she's going to keep taking the hyrdroc/./.; something and she hasn't taken her medicinal marijuana in a couple of days to lessen the whatever but well maybe. i think as always none of this makes sense. but she says shes not a drugaddict. she doesn't have a limp. and then later,

i said, you cut your hair.
she said, yah it was this long -....-.
i asked, did you donate it?
she said, no i gave it to this black guy for saving my life. he was nice. he went away but i liked him.
...
.....
.........
i asked, how did he save your life?
she said, (with a pause) he found me "asphyxiating"... because of the heater.
i said, because of the heater?
she said, yah. the gas you know.
i said, huh, you said something like that happened to you in oklahoma.
she said, mmhmm yah, same thing. i haven't used the heater since.
i said, you should probably get the landlord to fix it.
she said, he won't.
i said, hmm....

i ask her to tell me the story again. i have her repeat everything she tells me and i watch how it changes or how it stays the same. how it never ever really makes sense. we get out of ADARP and we went to see bridesmaids at the $3. she paid since i didn't have cash. i meant to pay. i feel bad i didn't pay. she had a good time but there were a few triggers (the horrible f*ckbuddy calling her dingus, the drug references, the copcar maybe) and then the movie cut out in the last 6minutes. and another 6minutes they got it started but couldn't rewind it so i told her what she missed. it wasn't much. but it was the emotional heart of the bride and her maidofhonor but anyway. we left. we got vouchers. she lost her glasses but we were running late so she could visit her daughter. i dropped her off. she said she'll want to see you. her godmother. i said, sometime. i'm not ready for that today. as that meant her mother, the villain and her and the foster mother and who knows what. the goddaughter doesn't actually cling to me that much. except that one time... and anyway i know i'm the calm center but inside i'm blazing. i'm muttering to the heavens. she said well when can i see you next? i said, we can schedule something. she said, next week? she's going to be 32? i said, sure. she said, none of that 5months later. remember, she says, as she slams the door, i'm suicidal. she smiles. i smile too. i wonder if she means it. i think it's been 8 months actually. along way off. many moons and years. a decade maybe since i've seen you. there was that one time when we went to see September Issue. You were clear. You heard me. I can tell the difference. That was 2yrs. And me being with you now, in all of this- i am not sure what sort of life line. But it must be something. I never offer anything else but my presence. So that when you call me between months and years it must be-- I drove off.

And Pen, then i went to call you but it was 3 o'clock. And i laughed at the timing again. About why I always want to call you at 3'oclock. And how i know at that moment you will never answer because its 6 to you and dinner time. So i went to starbucks and got a frappachino and the car colors (all sedans) black.red.red.lolly.black. And earlier today we turned left in a pack of SIX white cars and trucks.

And on home I went. But I wanted to tell you.
m.

i broke, i caved -

2011-06-22T12:01:00.001-07:00

I couldn’t grow out my hair anymore. After 6 months, I was suddenly done. It might have been impatience with the process, or the heat of summer, or serious doubts about the long-projected end product. Or a combination of all 3. So I got a haircut.

Except as mentioned previously, I don’t have a hair person here. And good hair people are not only hard to come by (and $$$), but once you find a good hair person, you have to build up enough trust for short hair. Because you can’t eff around with short hair. I know. I’ve been there. Once upon a time, I was haircut-scarred for life.

So I sort of cut it myself?

Um… I really have no explanations. The back is perhaps a bit choppy and still not as short as I want. But. Considering how badly it could have ended? I ain’t complainin’.

Ignore that wayward hair.

I feel slightly badass, I admit.

yours,

penelope scissor-wielder

notes from home,

2011-06-16T22:47:00.000-07:00

i'm listening to a song by the cults called 'go outside' on satellite. i've finished my tea and chocolate and pondering another early bed, had too much fruit today and no greens... it is summer. blackberries with honey yogurt for breakfast, watermelon for lunch, pineapple for dinner, bing cherries, and yes fresh sun warmed plums in btw. i was about to say i resented the outside but now a song by bravery is playing called 'this is not the end'... it's hard to complain when song titles are drilling into the depth of your paralysis. when all the good things are there blooming in the sun, and even your lowered insurance premium of $644 is a breath of fresh air- even if you still can't afford it. even if i am still waiting for the ax to fall- for the now still continued insurance claim to say no sorry, your time has run out. but it miraculously hasn't. 2 1/2 years later. i wish i knew freedom in it, i wish it didn't suck me under in intervals. i pop back up with a renewed sense of resolve but the more time that passes, pen, the harder it gets to have courage of something else but what i know- which is interminable waiting. and yet change must come. and i think will i be ready for it. will it have beaten me after all and i'll have failed to look or see the escape hatch open. or failed to learn anything at all in the interim. i think Lord, given the state of things this is what the world will say about me- no, Lord, even, this is what I say about myself. what do you say?

the silversun pickups is playing 'the royal we'. and in the meantime what damage. is.

i'm reminded of that landscape i had from '05-'07 where i was floating in the stagnant waters of the amazon and now i'm in an overdone black victorian outfit, ok exquisite, and making my way down an endless flight of stairs with sheer cliffs and a black chasm to my right. presently, the world when i look out of my windows is a portal to heaven, but looking the other direction i just think of krietz in the jungle muttering, the horror, the horror. i know this is the common complaint of man. existing in the tension of being an immortal being on a mortal plane. of knowing hope and yet seeing despair so close.and as this old dude named dubay said, we are incarnate thirst. we grow slack and wane without beauty, companionship and light. dull-witted maybe, cavernous. i don't know what else he said about it because i haven't finished the cd yet, and yes in the meantime,

i'm too busy glossing my dry lips to scream much.

but that is what keeps occuring to me to do. but my soul as she descends is too busy with her footing and catching her hair in the breeze. my spirit maybe or is it my projected self, in the identical but gold outfit on the castle parapet- she knows, she's released doves in Gods direction. she asks from where does my help come from? she paces. she is relentless in her worry. she knows the supplies are low and she is mercilessly distracted. my actual self here and now- the last few days- is staring at the blue skies of paintings not yet completed. she is not sure how the days pass and all the flowers outside illuminate a world she is reminded, is just for her, but she won't go outside except to pick plums. there is nothing productive about her, but looking for things to throw away.

though i am trying to practice better handwriting. and maybe tomorrow i'll go for a walk. there is too much a war within to do ought else.

m.

the (mis) adventures of penelope and mendacious

p.s. ~

while you’ve been out ~

pen-

a (somewhat illogical) wringing of hands

love, served 3 ways

pen’s 100

glow

Penelobells,

christmas decor,

dear subconscious,

Gratitude,

Pen-

soundtrack 2011 #wordcloud

books 2011

m ~

penausage,

blank pages/things i’ve learned 2011

For Your Review, novenelope,

LL asked how i was to which i replied,

twinkle twinkle

lost

an unfinished letter pen,

Pen,

These days,

happy farms

Part (XII) Seven

the book stack from @rd_morgan

seven years in ~

My darling,

A brief dialogue from Pen and M.

Oh, October (enclosed)

vortex

party on ~

I'm sorry,

m's currants

current state

dear pen,

Pen, Enclosed please find the following recap of Sept. *hugs*

pen-

friend,

m,

penpopsicle,

the fake backdrop of my life

penrolling,

penelaissance

m

Penance,

The Month of August in Photos Pen,

pre-autumn rainy world

books found in the basement

goodness

Mostly Sunny Hi 106°

penream,

m,

Do I, Don't I?

dear penelope,

day ?,

time for another word cloud

penelope,

the word desert

another day -

my name is pen -

Trust and Fast

august begins

penstimine,

brainstreams

whistles and tires pen,

Life in the Land of UH,

the unfolding story of sunflowers

down in fraggle rock

oh hello, nature

dragon in the sky, spitting fire

Mis-Information: LA = Desert

jesus almost lost his head, A Note From M

enclosed photos c/o pen:

somethings -

Mediocrity Revisited,

the mediocre talents of pen

Penelope,

Pen, Enclosed please find the following recap of Sept. hugs