Wednesday, September 29, 2004

unbearable lightness of boxes

actually, they are heavy. i wore my arm sore scrubbing off my lotus stencils in the bathroom and my watercolors on the glass in my doors. i stayed up packing books (they must remain alphebetized and categorized, goddamnit!) until the wee hours, which were not so whee. all in preparation for movers who flaked again. so far our moving day has been switched around about 1/2 a dozen times.

i hope they come tomorrow. i have never experienced "professional movers" before. i tend to think a pack of my old theatre buddies, a 12 pack or 2, and a U-Haul would have seen us there and back again by now. Sam assures me that they will actually come in here and pack up all of the difficult stuff and transport everything down 4 flights of stairs and that i will be amazed.

i am amazed that our management company is going to clean and paint our apartment at a reasonable fee. i keep asking Sam if he is very very sure that i do not have to clean the stove. i feel really filthy about that, in particular. my slight ocd is running rampant right now with thought of all of the things I should pre-clean but will actually not even touch.

is this my life?

moving is always surreal, I guess. for those of you who couldn't guess, i am amajor nester. this means that i will start unpacking and keep unpacking until everything is situated. can't help it. i cannot think, work, or create in any morsel of chaos, except for that which already comprises a large part of my though processes.

so i may not be posting for a few days. i sincerely hope that my next post will be done while admiring a view of golden light and palm trees from out our office wndow...

have a lovely early October!

Saturday, September 25, 2004

fun- for me, at least!

from Maure (through Adriana), a great idea:
1. Think of a word you would use to describe me.
2. Go to Google Image Search and search for that word.
3. Select the picture you see as most fitting, and post it as a reply.
4. Post this meme in your journal.
Pass it along.

Thursday, September 23, 2004

what can I say?

My husband sent me the following, and I can't keep it from you good people:

"This is a poem made up entirely of actual quotations from George W. Bush. They have been arranged only for aesthetic purposes, by Washington Post writer Richard Thompson. Too good not to share, especially during National Poetry Month . . .

by George W. Bush

I think we all agree, the past is over.
This is still a dangerous world.
It's a world of madmen and uncertainty and potential mental losses.
Rarely is the question asked, Is our children learning?
Will the highways of the internet become more few?
How many hands have I shaked?
They misunderestimate me.
I am a pitbull on the pantleg of opportunity.
I know that the human being and the fish can coexist.
Families is where our nation finds hope, where our wings take dream.
Put food on your family!
Knock down the tollbooth!
Vulcanize Society!
Make the pie higher!
Make the pie higher!"

This sounds almost like material from my friend, Mac:

Ahhhh...............what can one do?

Wednesday, September 22, 2004

23 skidoo

I just have to note for all of you Discordians out there that that last post, the freakiest by far, was of course, number 23 for me. I swear I didn't know it at the time.

If you don't know about it, click on this badboy:

Good times.

Tonight my friend Leeann, who I just turned on to 23, gave me another piece of her beautiful handmade jewelry from off of her body, simply because I coveted it. She is one of the most generous spirits I have ever known, and I can't wait until we get to go on couples motorcycles rides together!

It contains this stone, which could not have come at a better time. Perhaps tonights' dreams will be more peaceful...

No matter what, synchronicities abound and some of them, I think, are good.

Tuesday, September 21, 2004


Oh, I had the most horrible dream last night. Not a dream, a nightmare. Not a nightmare, a holy terror. It had all sorts of horrible parts, but the worst was this. I was in my mother's house. She was sitting at a table surrounded by small books. She was somehow creepy and very powerful seeming. Even more so than usual. I started looking at the books. I discovered that it seemed they were all written by dead relatives, relatives that she and I both actually know little about.
One of the books seemed to be a prescient account by my grandfather of his own suicide. But then, in the dream, I had the feeling that my mother had been writing these books, under the influence of her dead relatives. One of the passages in this book had an illustration of a curved marking (ok, this is very "The Village") that you would find on your door before you die. The text by this illustration read something like, "When the mark comes upon you you will wonder what it is. Then the shadowman comes and you realize the shape. It's a scythe. It's a scythe. It's a scythe. It's a scythe!"
Aaahhhg- then, in the dream, my mother jumped on top of me and started screaming this again at the top of her lungs, crazily and lustily. I got out from under her and fumbled despereately with the lock on her door, and got out just in time.
And then I flew away.
When I woke up, I was panick stricken for about an hour.
What does this mean?

Monday, September 20, 2004

Just what I was thinking

With all of the bullshit being flung around about Vietnam, it seems odd to me that Kerry has done little to mention Osama Bin Laden, and Bush's big shell game around 9-11. Is he waiting for a more opportune moment? Why can't Kerry go ahead and prey on fear and start smearing for real, as Bush has effectively been doing for years? Clearly, it's the only thing this country can understand. With this burning question in mind, I found this article today:

I'm ready for that ad. Right now.

Thursday, September 16, 2004


My husband sent me this today:

Someday I'd like to have a nice romantic vacation there, near the shores of this illustrious pond...

Wednesday, September 15, 2004

Out of nothing at all

This morning I tried to meditate, but I could not stop the lyrics from an Air Supply song from running through the back of my brain in their Entirety.

Mind you, I am not an Air Supply fan, exactly, but Mary Mc put this on a mixed CD recently and this song both disturbs me and cracks me up hard. Some of the thoughts simultaneously running through my mind are interspersed in parentheses...

"Every time I see you all the rays of the sun are streaming through the waves in your hair; (Even at night? Stop thinking this...)
And every star in the sky is taking aim at your eyes like a spotlight, (Scary! Focus on the breath, Tifanie.)
The beating of my heart is a drum, and it's lost and it's looking for a rhythm like you. (Barf. I can't stop thinking this song. )
You can take the darkness from the pit of the night and turn into a beacon burning endlessly bright. (Please, no!)
I've got to follow it, 'cause everything I know, well it's nothing till I give it to you." (Uh...don't?)

This is a really infectious song. I'd recommend it to anyone not trying to meditate. Ever. This got me thinking of other creepy songs, like "Every Breath you Take" by the Police, which is downright obsessive, and "Mr. Tambourine Man" as performed by William Shatner. Actually, Shatner adds a certain alarming desperation to almost any song.

By the time I was on to thinking about Leonard Nimoy's version of "If I had a hammer" meditation time was mysteriously over.


Monday, September 13, 2004

Vegetarians: beware!

Last night, it all began with this man driving my cab. This is Chali2na's cousin. Do you realize the enormity of that? Chali2na performs with Jurassic 5 and Ozomatli, two of my favoritest groups, and simply has the best voice in rap/hip-hop period. Period. Ok, so I missed out on the Jurassic 5 show at the Fillmore on Saturday night, but I did get to purchase Jrod's cd from him and it is pretty damn good, by the way.

So my talented cabbie (not a cabbie for long, I'd venture) dropped me off at the Korean barbeque restaurant, where I was to celebrate Gabe's birthday with him and some other friends. Have you ever been to a Korean BBQ? It was the shit, I have to say. Countless side dishes of pickled mysteries, potstickers, soups, and sea creatures surrounding a grill in the middle of the table, on which one roast's one's own meat pieces from a large glistening pile. Ridiculously satisfying.

Then we went to Zeitgeist, where I have never been, as I don't get out much anymore. This bar is all about the outdoor patio, with huge picnic tables everywhere. I got to catch up with aquaintances I've met through Gabe, who are all tremendously cool. I had a great conversation about 20's female writers, theatre, and modern feminism with an awesome woman named Toni who is dating Gabe's friend Josh. Josh is another unbelievably talented guy who was also born on September 12th. As always with Gabe, the laughs were flowing freely, and it was wonderful to see the huge turnout of artists, musicians, and other characters who all realize how truly incredible Gabe is...

Nights like last night don't happen often in my life, which makes them all the more sweet. I am beginning to say my small goodbyes to people here and there that I may never encounter again, and to meet all sorts of people I wish I'd gotten to know better. I find solace only in the idea that in this kismetic world, if we are meant to, we will find each other at some unlikely crossing down the road.

Thursday, September 09, 2004

A Highly Satisfactory Day

It began with roasting green chile for the first time ever. I had no idea chiles could explode! I'm not kidding. Only a few popped open, really, and there's nothing wrong with that, it's just- suprising. The entire kitchen filled with mouth and eye-watering fumes which worked their way into the entire building by mid- afternoon. I saved a few chiles in the hope of planting them in Santa Barbara. Considering I have not had much of a green thumb in my life, I might be simply sacrificing a few unsuspecting innocent chiles, but so be it.

I spent most of the rest of the day coddling Desdemona and being domestic. The vet said to try to keep her confined, but it just wasn't working. She is a social cat, and wanted to be with me, so I eventually let her do that, which worked out well. She is sleeping on the bed now, with a giant blue collar, and a shave job that looks like a 6 year old got ahold of Daddy's Norelco and decided to give Kitty a Haircut. She and I took a bitchin' nap together this afternoon and since then I have been doing nothing but vegetating.

The best part is that the vet says the pathology came back good, and they think they got all of the carcinoma. I sho' do hope so. I am happy Des is going to have a backyard to play in soon.

I got to talk to my girlfriend Missy, which I do entirely too little, and we are going to formulate plans for a grand all girl get together next September or so. Be warned. Clear your calendars. Get ready. It's gonna happen...

To top it off, I found out thet my friend Brandy just one an award from the NM Press Association for a huge feature article she recently wrote. What a star!

The only thing that could improve upon today would be if my husband was around. But even that is bearable, since he will be home for the weekend.

Ah, joy! I hope each of you had a lovely day as well...

Tuesday, September 07, 2004

Get it. Together.

Happy happy birthday to my two very special Virgo Adrianas, born one day apart and everything.
In Virgo, I try to get organized. Constantly, and mostly without intending to. Yesterday I spoke with my other Virgo Queen, Brandy, in Albuquerque. We hashed out some ideas about our play, which has suddenly and rightly blossomed into multiple plays on related topics. We made the commitment to a lifetime of work together, and I am very happy and motivated about it.
Albuquerque also brought a brief meeting with an old friend, Michael, who reminded me that talent is a responsibility. It is the second time a friend has reminded me of this in the past week or so. My ZenFriend Mary also told me that in a world so spiritually bereft, it is selfish to not share one's voice, insight, and intuition with others.
I am really looking forward to a fresh start in Southern California, and have much work to do.
Albuquerque was actually very healing. It helped me make sense of my journey again. Not to mention I got to see miss Eldaa Miller marry her match, and many old friends who are as happy/odd/and wonderfully themselves as ever.
I carried a bag of green chile home to roast, and my husband rode off into the sunrise to our new home, with a clearer idea of the unique land his weirdo wife comes from.

In 15 minutes, I take Desdemona to her operation. I hope it goes as well as my weekend.

And Jess, what little garbage can? Are you talking about the sponge cubby?