Because I must keep myself from doing whatever "going postal" might currently mean. The new tenant downstairs - a man older than I am - has someone over, and they are very loudly and VERY BADLY practicing on their electric guitars and electric keyboard. The same phrases over and over and over, punctuated with some sort of hideous acid jazz interlude. I've had this place to myself for three blissful months. My landlords lived here before that, and they never listened to music of any kind. And they most certainly did not make these hideous noises that reverberate through my entire house, and blast through even my own now blasting music that I only have on to COVER THEM UP. It is not working. And now, just to escape the noise, I am going to bundle up and go sit outside.
Oh and I was in such a nice mood. So now I will have to tell the man, when he asks, that he is FAR TOO LOUD, because otherwise I will become a passive aggressive bitchy person and shoot invisible daggers at him. No one needs that. And if I tell the landlords, when they ask, without telling him first, well then that will be weird too. Sigh. Angrily wearing earplugs probably won't work in the long run...
.
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Monday, October 24, 2011
Saturday, October 22, 2011
little snippet
.
Then I will make up to you for the years
That the swarming locust has eaten…
~ Joel 2:25
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Then I will make up to you for the years
That the swarming locust has eaten…
~ Joel 2:25
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Thursday, October 20, 2011
noticing, plus.
In the world of weird lying:
a woman I know tells me things personal things all the time, then posts the complete opposite on her fb page.
Another person I know just spent the weekend at an out-of-state rehab for her alcoholic husband, but writes a long fb status update about how she missed out on these other things going on because she was having a great time away at her husband's medical conference.
Why? I mean, if you are going to lie, or if you're embarassed about what is truly going on, why are you compelled to lie about it online? Why say anything? Humans. I do not understand.
I know I have my own issues and oddnesses. There are just some things that people do that I don't understand. The therapist, the massively judgmental, and the anthropologist parts of me collude on things like this.
Even this is loss - Matt and I noticed these kinds of things together. Meh. I don't feel like adding that right now. Right now I feel the tiniest bit more amused by the oddnesses of people than I do overwhelmed and lonlied by it, so I am gonna try and keep it that way.
>>>
And then an addendum, because I don't feel like a whole other post - I spent most of the day in the ER, in a cervical collar and strapped to a board, because I hit my head really hard yesterday and my doctor thought my neck was broken. Unexpectedly strapped to a board, immobile, in pain, being asked questions about marital status and emergency contacts, trying not to scream for matt knowing he can't answer, trying to tell the nurses that part of my crying is not from physical pain so they wouldn't suddenly do more invasive procedures or something, all while surrounded by trauma triggers. It has been a long and painful day, and I am so glad to be home. No broken bones. Not allowed to go into work for a few days. Must lie down a lot.
I don't have to tell you all on how many levels and in how many ways this hurts.
.
a woman I know tells me things personal things all the time, then posts the complete opposite on her fb page.
Another person I know just spent the weekend at an out-of-state rehab for her alcoholic husband, but writes a long fb status update about how she missed out on these other things going on because she was having a great time away at her husband's medical conference.
Why? I mean, if you are going to lie, or if you're embarassed about what is truly going on, why are you compelled to lie about it online? Why say anything? Humans. I do not understand.
I know I have my own issues and oddnesses. There are just some things that people do that I don't understand. The therapist, the massively judgmental, and the anthropologist parts of me collude on things like this.
Even this is loss - Matt and I noticed these kinds of things together. Meh. I don't feel like adding that right now. Right now I feel the tiniest bit more amused by the oddnesses of people than I do overwhelmed and lonlied by it, so I am gonna try and keep it that way.
>>>
And then an addendum, because I don't feel like a whole other post - I spent most of the day in the ER, in a cervical collar and strapped to a board, because I hit my head really hard yesterday and my doctor thought my neck was broken. Unexpectedly strapped to a board, immobile, in pain, being asked questions about marital status and emergency contacts, trying not to scream for matt knowing he can't answer, trying to tell the nurses that part of my crying is not from physical pain so they wouldn't suddenly do more invasive procedures or something, all while surrounded by trauma triggers. It has been a long and painful day, and I am so glad to be home. No broken bones. Not allowed to go into work for a few days. Must lie down a lot.
I don't have to tell you all on how many levels and in how many ways this hurts.
.
Tuesday, October 18, 2011
a new one
Wings
The difference between birds with wings and holy people with the
Wings of passionate Love, is that birds with their wings fly in a certain
Direction, which is always changing, and holy beings with
Wings of Love long only to fly away from all directions.
- Jalal-ud-Din Rumi
I haven't seen this poem before. Nice one.
My kid is here, tromping around upstairs, looking at the upstairs apartment with the landlord. How weird, and good, and strange, it is to have him here. How crazy. Matt's birthday was Saturday. I forgot that other people would know that too, other people would be in more pain that day. Other people would notice the day. J. and I are going to go check out some tattoo flash when he's done talking renovations with the landlord. How strange. How strange. How many different people I am lately.
.
The difference between birds with wings and holy people with the
Wings of passionate Love, is that birds with their wings fly in a certain
Direction, which is always changing, and holy beings with
Wings of Love long only to fly away from all directions.
- Jalal-ud-Din Rumi
I haven't seen this poem before. Nice one.
My kid is here, tromping around upstairs, looking at the upstairs apartment with the landlord. How weird, and good, and strange, it is to have him here. How crazy. Matt's birthday was Saturday. I forgot that other people would know that too, other people would be in more pain that day. Other people would notice the day. J. and I are going to go check out some tattoo flash when he's done talking renovations with the landlord. How strange. How strange. How many different people I am lately.
.
Thursday, October 13, 2011
pork
I'll maybe write more about it later, but if you are interested in photos from last weekend's Nose to Tail pig event, the slideshow is here: http://www.flickr.com/photos/mmdev/sets/72157627747267101/show/
There are no photos of the slaughter itself, for many reasons. The rest of the photos are shots of innards and eviscerating, butchery, and people wielding knives. Caul fat is beautiful.
And, I realized on sunday morning that is was 27 months that day. Woke up in the tent, a new tent, curled in the sleeping bag matt bought me for our first christmas together, made tea on the campstove I bought jake when we couldn't find matt's in the chaotic aftermath of 27 months ago. Walked to the kitchens to begin day two of butchery. And kept glancing at the clock: today, right now, at around 11:35 am, this is what I am doing. I am butchering pigs, not screaming in the woods. This is what I am doing on this day.
.
There are no photos of the slaughter itself, for many reasons. The rest of the photos are shots of innards and eviscerating, butchery, and people wielding knives. Caul fat is beautiful.
And, I realized on sunday morning that is was 27 months that day. Woke up in the tent, a new tent, curled in the sleeping bag matt bought me for our first christmas together, made tea on the campstove I bought jake when we couldn't find matt's in the chaotic aftermath of 27 months ago. Walked to the kitchens to begin day two of butchery. And kept glancing at the clock: today, right now, at around 11:35 am, this is what I am doing. I am butchering pigs, not screaming in the woods. This is what I am doing on this day.
.
Friday, October 7, 2011
Contemplation
.
Just this morning,
contemplation
led me into
the rose garden that is
neither
outside this world
nor within it.
- Jalal-ud-Din Rumi
Not true - the above, but hey, I can hope for it. The old praise poems sung to kings, lauding their merits, were meant as encouragement of what could be, not necessarily what was.
The sun is up, I have tea, I am preparing for this weekend away with pigs. I have the excitement of adventure on me right now, and that is mighty nice to feel.
First on the agenda today: I need to get my license renewed. The thing is, 6 years ago, I was blissfully happy, and it shows in my license photo. I have aged and changed so much in these last two years, I am afraid of what the new photo will show. I don't want photographic evidence of pain looking at me every time I open my wallet. I am sitting here with my "hydrating facial mask" on, hoping it eases some lines and hides them from the camera. Vanity. And comedy. No hydrating mask is going to erase all the evidence of this.
In other news, I don't seem to be able to comment on any blogs lately. Not sure why. I can't even comment as Anon. So in case you're reading this, and I'm reading you - hi.
.
Just this morning,
contemplation
led me into
the rose garden that is
neither
outside this world
nor within it.
- Jalal-ud-Din Rumi
Not true - the above, but hey, I can hope for it. The old praise poems sung to kings, lauding their merits, were meant as encouragement of what could be, not necessarily what was.
The sun is up, I have tea, I am preparing for this weekend away with pigs. I have the excitement of adventure on me right now, and that is mighty nice to feel.
First on the agenda today: I need to get my license renewed. The thing is, 6 years ago, I was blissfully happy, and it shows in my license photo. I have aged and changed so much in these last two years, I am afraid of what the new photo will show. I don't want photographic evidence of pain looking at me every time I open my wallet. I am sitting here with my "hydrating facial mask" on, hoping it eases some lines and hides them from the camera. Vanity. And comedy. No hydrating mask is going to erase all the evidence of this.
In other news, I don't seem to be able to comment on any blogs lately. Not sure why. I can't even comment as Anon. So in case you're reading this, and I'm reading you - hi.
.
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