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Week One in the Toyota service lane is complete. Nine and a half hour days. Six days a week. Shit got crazy. So, here's my job:

I'm a Lane AssistantCollapse )

The manfriend has work today. I don't. With the end of Daylight Savings Time, I woke this morning feeling bright and refreshed at 7am. This gave me plenty of time to de-ice my car and my manfriend's car while he made breakfast. I've taken a load to the recycling center. Now to clean the house, bake cinnamon rolls, and settle in to watch some xxxHolic. Yes.

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Say the Word and We'll Go

Last night, I dreamt

1.) I was Kagome Higurashi, but I still looked kinda like myself.

2.) I had snuck onto an experimental hover-craft of some kind, piloted by a portly old chap and green, veiny, big-headed alien.

3.) We were going to the beach!

4.) Both the hovercraft and the shiny, blue wetsuit I was wearing utilized new hover-technology that allowed the user to hover over water.

5.) We couldn't find parking for the hover craft. We found this one space, but then these punk kids in a black Volvo stationwagon with flame decals zipped in and took it, those bastards.

6.) Finally, I got out of the hover-craft and took to the salty sea air, and I kept saying, "Oooo, la mer!"
Went running with the manfriend this morning. He didn't want to get up until 6:30--I'm usually up at 6am--which just throws off my everything. And, it turns out, the mindnumbing daze I slip into while running does not occur when I have company. Damn.

And he took the last clean fork. The dastard.

Today, I will be parked at a table outside the cafeteria, handing out surveys. For, like, three hours. Le sigh.

One Last Toast

Sometimes, i feel like an X-Man. My mutant power? I can incite a room of people notably older than I into one big, raucous round of the electric slide. You know you want me bartending your wedding. A woman from the bridal party got me out from behind the bar and on to the floor and asked me to teach her, and before I knew it, the whole bridal party was up there, and then it was, like, everyone. And it was what I imagine being at the center of a human heart must feel like because everything around you is moving and jumping in time, and it's gotta be some kind of cosmic phenomenon, but no, it's just a room full of elated folks and a lackluster DJ and a bartender who is the only student--or alum--at the wedding even if she has to work it.

And then I went back to tending bar.

I was in the middle of pouring someone a Pinot Grigio when a professor--a gent with whom I sat on a search committee for the Writing Department my last semester of school--approached the bar. He gave me this sincere look and said, "Do you know how special you are?" I knew he wasn't drunk. I mean, I was pouring the drinks. "Faculty talk about you all the time." He added something about it always being in the positive and walked away.

And, God, how I miss it. I miss it and I miss them. And I felt so privileged to be the only student/alum "invited" to the reception. And I was tending bar. Does that make me pathetic or what?

Still, it was a privilege to watch her get married.

It's Not My Mind That Matters

There was a new moon this morning when I got up to go running. It was freaking eerie. Thank goodness for headlamps. I was switching it on at every bunny and whistle pig that waddled across my path.

Got two meetings today:
@10am - A young man from Gaia University is interested in how universities are playing a role in the Local Food Movement, and, hey, it's totally my job to quantify just that. I scribbled down my contact info in this book he had when I bumped into him in my boss's office, and the paper in the book was this soft, thick stuff, and I commented on it. "Thanks," he said. "It's made from elephant poop." O_o "Wow," I answered, "That's so sustainable."
@2pm - Meeting with a woman from our Service Learning Office. We're talking about organizing a Local Food service trip for students--in order to graduate, all students have to clock at least 100 hours of community service.

I got an email today from an English Adjunct on campus. She's teaching a class about local food and is interested in getting me to come in and talk about it. Cool, I thought, and then at the bottom of her email, she tacked on this...

"P.S.  I was the Beebe Fellow last year, and I read your thesis *very* briefly at the end of last semester.  It's incredible.  As a writer, you're the real deal."

Baller. I wrote my thesis on perceptions of prostitution and the New Woman Movement in Victorian England. I wanted to call it The George Bernard Shaw Radio Hour: Didacticism, Hookers, and Spinsters, but my thesis advisor, well, advised me against that.

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I Really Wanted That Thing

Ugh. NPR made me tear up this morning. I must be PMS-ing.

Autumn hit my valley like a freight train. Earlier this week, it rained for three days straight, and once the rain stopped, it had gone from 90 degrees to, like, 50. It's amazing. I'm going to get mushroom hunting soon, I think. 'Tis the season for exciting mycology!

And all the fruits again would fill the GardenCollapse )

This morning, the man-friend found a dying bird in the parking lot of our apartment complex. He put on rubber gloves and went to put it out of its misery, and I stayed inside because, while I think it's the best thing to do, I could never be a part of that. When he came back in, he said that he flipped the bird right side up, and as soon as he did, it hopped away. So not a broken neck. Probably a broken wing. I asked him, "So it'll be okay?" He laughed. "It'll be dead in a day. Getting picked off by a house cat is the circle of life; dying on your back in a parking lot is not."

Today's highlight: driving by the young man in a wife-beater, selling hand-made autumn wreaths out the back of his black El Camino.
Anyone know of a way to upload music to LJ? I just discovered GarageBand on my computer, and I been having far, far too much fun with it. Fun that I would like to share with the LJ world.

Think I'm Going for a Walk Now

So I stumbled upon a file I have not read in some time. It's my Senior Creative Writing Portfolio. I called the thing--what ended up being a 100 page monstrosity of fiction and poetry broken up into 12 sections--"A Girl's Guide to Signs and Wonders." The cover was a woodcut relief print I made of a woman dancing with a bear.

So let me know what you think... here is the introduction and section 1


 

Introduction (2 pages)Collapse )



I. Sorrow, An Unhappy Event, Change for the Worse, Loss or DeathCollapse )

 

 

 

 

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Writer's Block: Boldly going

Which fictional world would you choose to visit, and why?

Hogwarts. Unequivocally.
Day 2 of the Master Cleanse. I've got a headache, which I have had since about noon yesterday, that is entirely resistant to anything I take--including Percocet. WTF. So now I am pounding water left and right in the hopes that that will help.

Got up to go running this morning, but my head hurt too friggin' badly. Just reaching over to hit the alarm jostled my brain enough to make me freeze and grit my teeth. I'm only anticipating a few days of some serious hurt before the magic happens.

Last night the boyfriend made falafel. He filled the house with that amazing smell. Oh, God. It was like sex, except not because I couldn't eat any of the falafel he made! Instead, I went and pouted in the bath, knowing that I chose to do the Master Cleanse and I'm determined to stick with it and he gets to eat whatever he wants because cleanses aren't his thing. Okay, yeah, I get that. It still sucks.

EDIT: As of 2:30 pm today, I caved. I needed to take my migraine medication, and I had to have food in my stomach to do it. *le sigh* My headache was so bad, I was getting tunnel vision and seeing flashes of light and I was sooo lethargic. I went around to several different places online, looking for pointers, but no one else seemed to having the symptoms I was having. It occurs to me that perhaps fasting/cleanses are not designed for those with wonkie of blood sugar & thyroid. Alas.