Saturday, November 08, 2003

I'm back and refreshed. Ready for one of these.

Reading: a few things. The Glenn Gould Reader, which is one of the most exciting things I've read in a while. The Dark Horse Book of Hauntings, which is disappointing but worth mentioning for the Evan Dorkin/Jill Thompson story.
Watching: I've got Hannah and Her Sisters and Surviving Picasso. Wish me luck.
Listening to: Schubert's Winterreise.

Thursday, November 06, 2003

Look, postings might be few in the next couple of days while I scrape myself back together. It was a King Hell day today.

Wednesday, November 05, 2003

I spent most of the day in a terrible, wounded bear kind of mood for reasons that those of you who don't know why don't really need to know.
But I got a lot done because when I get hurt I tend to submerge myself in loads of work until I wear myself out and get terribly ill. I shipped a few books. I got more bubble wrap at last! I got some more valerian. I donated some books that I can't sell to the library and picked up some more that I can sell. Then I put those on line.
I watched the rest of "The Fly." You know, as much as I've seen that end scene where the fly's yelling "Help me Help me" alluded to in other places, I never thought that it would be as downright unnerving as it is. Old Vincent Price films tend to be more truly scary than anything produced today and it always surprises me.
Then I did the smartest thing I could do. I took a nap. That knitted up the ravelled sleeve of care a bit.
After dinner I took a very long walk down the beach in my hemp shoes which I'm still not used to. I fear my feet are now blistered beyond repair. There was nobody out on the beach except one campfire towards the beginning with a circle of high school kids singing hymns so it was a peaceful walk as well.
You know, I heard a theologian say that when one repents and then continues to feel bad about the sin it is an insult to God. When God has fogiven, the sin is erased and to continue to feel bad about it is doubting the infallible forgiveness of God.
I wish I could remember who said that.
I also remember Michael Nehring telling me the last time I was looking for somebody to be in a relationship with that I should just put it out into Universe that I'd like this in my life and let Universe handle it.
What I'm driving at is that sometimes one has to take their pain, their anger, their worry, their regret that is filling their plate fuller than they can handle and shove it onto something bigger than them, something that they feel can handle it. And then they need to have the good sense to leave it that way and get on with their lives.
I say this because this is something I'm struggling with currently.

Tuesday, November 04, 2003

I probably shouldn't blog in the first third of my day. You see, the front room of my home is not insulated and is about thrice the height it needs to be. So, in the winter, if the electricity goes out I can just move my freezer items into my front room. Needless to say, after I posted before I went outside and the sun was gleefully shining.
Lots of books in today.
Then there was a really unsettling phone call that I really don't want to talk about. I'll just say that I'm going to borrow a weepy movie from the library this week to get out a good cry I've got coming and can't seem to let out. We'll leave it at that.
I went to talk with Charles about same. We ended up watching an awesome film called "Dead Presidents."
Tonight I went and walked for almost an hour. Now I'ma watch "The Fly" with Vincent Price and let my brain go far far from what it's dwelling on at present.
It's cold. Don't give me any crap. I know it's southern California. I've been in Vermont at the New Year. I've been in London in January. I've been in Northern Oregon through the winter. But OC has something that none of those places have. There's wind what comes off of the ocean and whips through our streets. It'll be sunny and warm outside but there'll be a wind that chills you to the bone.
Last night I saw Sean at the Barnes and Noble when I was looking for a recent biography on Edgar Allan Poe (and couldn't bring myself to pay $18 for a trade paperback.) We chatted until I got a call from Charles saying that Phish broke down and needed a ride. So I got to drive around and chat with Chas and Phish for a while.
I'm on my way out now to get some books.

Sunday, November 02, 2003

I put a few more books online and prepared some to ship tomorrow. I'll have to go buy more bubble wrap, which I hate doing because it's the kind of thing I can often get for free.
Charles, Phish, Yod, Jessica and I went to lunch with Paul today at the Thai restaurant. Paul is an older gentleman and the only atheist I know. And he's a preaching atheist. But he's also a very nice man. Very funny and highly intelligent.
Afterwards I stopped by home and caught a few minutes of a crackpot show that was trying to make a case that Edgar Allan Poe died of mercury poisoning. Lies!
I went to Charles and Phish's to start the best chili in the state. It was elk meat this time. Dark red kidney beans, fresh basil picked from the garden this morning, lemon, two bottles of Newcastle brown ale, carrot, onion, garlic. Let that cook for a while. Then the merlot (half a bottle) and the spices. The spices are chili powder, flour (for thickening, which I could have used a little more), Dutch process cocoa, salt, and a heaping helping of cayenne pepper. It was very good. Best in the state. Yod made some scrumcious garlic bread to go with it.
The Ahmish played for a while. I thought it went well.
Nissa called and we had a long talk. It was one of the best talks we've had... ever maybe. She's one of the most important people to come through my life.
I stopped by the Liquid Den for a few minutes. Then I came home.
The Buick Crapbox is gone from my life. It was bought yesterday by a marine who is oh so very distantly related to me. My grandmother told him that I was unloading a Buick Crapbox and he wanted something that would get him off of the base at 29 Palms for the next two months. The Buick will do that. Phish joked that this was a non-violent act of protest on my part, to sell a marine a car that doesn't work very well. Which is a funny idea. Prankster protest. But in reality, the car was taken to the shop a few weeks ago and is now in as good working order as a twelve year old sedan with almost 100,000 miles on it can possibly be.
I hope and doubt he keeps the "Blessed are the peacemakers: for they shall be called the children of God" bumber sticker on it.
Last night I went with Phish and Charles to an awesome art opening in Santa Ana. It was at the Misfit gallery (I'll get more details and post them soon for anyone who should like to see it for themselves. I know that the projection happens on saturdays.) It was a dark room and in one corner was strips of white metal mesh hanging from to form a screen. Projected onto that were images from nature kaleidoscoped into fourths. The effect was chillingly beautiful. There was a minimalist sound design playing along with the images. There were pillows on the floor for you to sit and watch the art.
Today I picked a bunch of basil from the garden because I'm going over to Charles and Phish's to make the best chili in the state.