these days of leiderhosen

I think it could be time. You can yammer all ya want about how 10% of Americans are out of work and how lucky/funded I should feel, but I am not feeling self-congratulatory and I sure ain't happy. How I stumbled face-first into a career of stuffing little numbers into boxes is still a mystery, but it started with being someone's Admin with a crap manager screaming into my face for no good reason in a locked stairwell. I wanted out of the trapped place and away from someone whose idea of work was to make other people feel small and to the next office I stalked and demanded that whoever it was in charge give me a shot at whatever it was they were doing. If it was bricklaying, I wanted in. The Steven's right: I'm not here for the work, I'm here to use the spoils of work to practice creativity and make stuff. By "here" I mean HERE : occupying this space in this body at this time. I have found a lot of reasons not be HERE (aside from a loving Ma and antidepre...

Really. Thanks. Mme.

Reading: Trying to finish Patti Smith's memoir. Love it, but I've been distracted by the shiny and wooly. Listening to: Marie Irshad on her brilliant podcast Knitcast . Toes: dark red again. Boring! Ma and I went for a cheap super-deluxe pedicure on our bi-weekly date. The aggressively thorough massage chair got at least third base with me as two very nice sisters rubbed our legs for the best part of an hour. It was the best part of an hour. Despite Ma's intention to have any polish other than orange, the polish she picked ("bronze") did turn out rather sparkly disco orange. I ordered up a pair of painted yellow flowers on her big toes. Her toenails could not be further than her modest personality. I am sure she sits in Mass this morning, slightly disturbed by the flashiness of what's in her shoes. Since payday has come and gone: my indulgences this month A new cologne called Contemplation by Tokyomilk . It smell more of cedarwood, thyme and sparkle than anyt...

Honestly, I have no idea how much more of the new Flaming Liberal Campus Financial System I can take. To make a long story short, For the All Holy Day of Fiscal Year End, I happily put my project house in order. All the numbers were wrapped in pink pre-warmed tissue, snug in their little boxes. This was June 30. On July 1 8 AM, the house was not only on fire but swatted by a tsunami and shivered to the ground by a massive seismic event. The some of numbers were found shivering and soggy in the gutters, others have run off, a few decided to become cowboys and the other 50 million are MIA. No amount of tissue can repair this catastrophic fuckup.

Roots: A Journey of Sarah. For all of us stuck behind a desk, wincing under a terminal case of wanderlust; my beloved and beautiful Sister (in-law) Sarah now sets off to discover the parts of Eastern Europe her family cottons from. She is a fearless and excellent writer. She has promised this is one of her tasks before she moves her tuckus to settle in this corner of the US. It's a very good thing.