Ooh I love new love songs!

I'm at the airport--I heard this song while browsing in the Virgin store. It's so lush and prettay!

Sh*t his dad says

I haven't followed "Shit My Dad Says" in a long time--the twitter account, I mean. But here are some I seem to have saved in my computer.


"Son, no one gives a shit about all the things your cell phone does. You didn't invent it, you just bought it. Anybody can do that."

"I hate paying bills... Son, don't say "me too." I didn't say that looking to relate to you. I said it instead of "go away."

"You worry too much. Eat some bacon... What? No, I got no idea if it'll make you feel better, I just made too much bacon."

"The baby will talk when he talks, relax. It ain't like he knows the cure for cancer and he just ain't spitting it out."

"Just pay the parking ticket. Don't be so outraged. You're not a freedom fighter in the civil rights movement. You double parked."

"You're being fucking dramatic. You own a TV and an air mattress. That's not exactly what I'd call "a lot to lose."

"It's not the gardener's job to pick up the dog shit. If you don't want to pick up the dog shit, then learn a skill like gardening."

The Undemanding Job

I'd never read this! The author of Calvin and Hobbes gave a great commencement address in 1990 (the year I graduated high school); and recently a cartoonist has recreated part of it as a Calvin and Hobbes style cartoon. Go see it!   I'm going to check out his other philosophy-quotes-cartoons.

Though it was given to a class of 20 year olds, it has High Applicability to those of us hitting The Middle Years. Below I've excerpted my fave bits, but you can read it all here.

SOME THOUGHTS ON THE REAL WORLD BY ONE WHO GLIMPSED IT AND FLED
Bill Watterson
Kenyon College Commencement
May 20, 1990   ...For years I got nothing but rejection letters, and I was forced to accept a real job.
A REAL job is a job you hate. I designed car ads and grocery ads in the windowless basement of a convenience store, and I hated every single minute of the 4-1/2 million minutes I worked there.
...
I tell you all this because it's worth recognizing that there is no such thing as an overnight success. You will do well to cultivate the resources in yourself that bring you happiness outside of success or failure. The truth is, most of us discover where we are headed when we arrive. At that time, we turn around and say, yes, this is obviously where I was going all along. It's a good idea to try to enjoy the scenery on the detours, because you'll probably take a few.
...
We all have different desires and needs, but if we don't discover what we want from ourselves and what we stand for, we will live passively and unfulfilled. Sooner or later, we are all asked to compromise ourselves and the things we care about. We define ourselves by our actions. With each decision, we tell ourselves and the world who we are. Think about what you want out of this life, and recognize that there are many kinds of success.

Many of you will be going on to law school, business school, medical school, or other graduate work, and you can expect the kind of starting salary that, with luck, will allow you to pay off your own tuition debts within your own lifetime.

But having an enviable career is one thing, and being a happy person is another.
Creating a life that reflects your values and satisfies your soul is a rare achievement. In a culture that relentlessly promotes avarice and excess as the good life, a person happy doing his own work is usually considered an eccentric, if not a subversive. Ambition is only understood if it's to rise to the top of some imaginary ladder of success. Someone who takes an undemanding job because it affords him the time to pursue other interests and activities is considered a flake. A person who abandons a career in order to stay home and raise children is considered not to be living up to his potential-as if a job title and salary are the sole measure of human worth.

You'll be told in a hundred ways, some subtle and some not, to keep climbing, and never be satisfied with where you are, who you are, and what you're doing. There are a million ways to sell yourself out, and I guarantee you'll hear about them.

To invent your own life's meaning is not easy, but it's still allowed, and I think you'll be happier for the trouble.

Overheard

Did you ever follow one of those "overheard" sites? They're sites where people can submit funny/strange conversations they've overheard Eg at work, on the subway, etc.

Here are some examples:

Coder #1: I just can't work in these pants!
Coder #2, raising hand: Seconded!
Boss #1: No! Motion fails!
Boss #2: Indeed -- pants remain a workplace requirement!

7255 East Hampton Avenue
Mesa, Arizona

Overheard by: Chris Cardinal

*


Boss, setting down ancient computing equipment: I don't know what's going to happen when I turn this on. Hopefully it won't catch on fire...
Minion: Then why is it on my desk?

Tyco Road
Vienna, Virginia

Overheard by: Hiding behind the bookshelves

*
Female employee #1: ...so if the sun exploded seven minutes ago, we wouldn't know it yet, because it takes eight minutes for the sun's light to reach us.

Male employee: That's depressing! What would you do in those seven minutes?

Female employee #1: If I were at work? Have sex.

Male employee: Isn't that's a lot of pressure on the guy?

Female employee #1: Please. Guys are usually all, "Gimme two minutes!"

Female employee #2: You could do three guys in that time!

Female employee #1: Three and a half!



Boulevard Sacré Coeur
Gatineau, Quebec


Overheard by: Sara

*
Engineer #1: If you flush the toilet, you lose water pressure?! So it's like, "Sorry, the dishwasher is running. We have no fire protection."


Pause.


Engineer #2: Who flushes the toilet if their house is on fire?



700 West Capitol Avenue
Little Rock, Arkansas

*

Bossman: Ted*, keep in mind: if you screw this up, we will beat you like a pinñata. We'll beat you till the candy comes out.


Denver, Colorado

Overheard by: Bossman Cometh

He's not heavy he's my brother... my funny brother

My brother is a very creative, and very funny guy. One year he gave my husband Klingon Knitting Batliffs for his birthday. Fernando was into knitting, so Pablo bought knitting needles, painted them a bunch of exciting colors, named them knitting batliffs (Fernando loves Star Trek) and made an accompanying card to explain them.

For my birthday one year he made me a Tom Servo doll--my favorite character from the TV show Mystery Science Theatre 3000. MST3K was a show about a guy stuck on a space station and forced to watch terrible movies (old sci fi films, mostly); so he builds some robots to watch with him. The show consists of a shortened version of some terrible movie, with the guy and two robots throwing out one-liners while they watch.

 

This is the one Pablo made me. One of the best gifts I ever received.

Images of a nanowrimo

Some screen shots of when I was nanowrimoing years ago...

[cat pics!]

 

My dad's fave quote:

 

 

My talismans (Wonder Woman in battle gear, writing smurf, Yoda, kitty clock) survey the desolation that is Montreal in November.

Minion's finger suckatude habit was detrimental to my word count... 

 

Minion's "cake face" is the intense look she gets when staring at something she really wants. The term comes from Hyperbole and a Half...

Landing in the right place

I just shared something on Skye's blog, and thought it was worth pasting in here. In October it'll be a year I've been at this job, and it's starting to get a wee bit boring. Not all the time, not all days, not even all day; but once you've reached a certain level of Being Good at something, it falls into routine, which may or may not be stimulating depending on your personality and the work.

But I am reminded of this: [here's the pasted bit]

When I first came to Nanaimo, I was hoping to find a non-retail job cause I wanted to get into something new. But with no office experience, I only got two interviews, two nibbles, no job. When I saw the posting for the charity run thrift store I thought, well, if I need to go back to retail, this sounds alright.

Once I was in the job I realized how mentally messed up I still was, from all the depression and stress. My brain was foggy. I'd find myself putting a short sleeved shirt in the long sleeved section and think: I am SO glad I'm at a job where the worst I mess up is put this shirt in the wrong place. I realized that a more complicated job might very well have been out of my skill set at that time.

The people I work with are really KIND, and they're gentle, and the main woman I work with (friends with) is New Agey so she's there to say all the right things and dispense hugs. I really feel like I landed in the right job for that time in my life.

So as I now think ahead to moving back to Montreal and job hunting again, I'm reminding myself that if I keep an open mind, and spread my net wide, I can find something *right* again. Even if it's not what I pictured or hoped or imagined. Being a spiritual person, I think of it as: The Universe knows shit about me that I don't. ...Secularly, I think it's safe to say that your mind and body know things that you're not conscious of knowing. If you give them some scope to work without your consent, they might lead you to possibilities you haven't considered.

In other news...
I've been trying to post songs separately these days, but just watched Kate Perry's new video and had to share. It's a "I Will Survive" style breakup song, but the chorus and tone and music is suitable to any situation that needs pumping up. Great little song.

I got the eye of the tiger, a fighter
Dancing through the fire
A champion
And you're gonna hear me roar

[Jules warning: There is an adorable angry-shouting-kitty symbol that I love, and a real cat at the end.]

Songs about home

All my cherished memories are of you
All my warmth and comfort stayed with you


That's where my heart is turning, ever


The trouble it might drag you down
If you get lost, you can always be found



I caught wind and hit the road runnin'g
And Lord I been a longtime gone



Dream and dare to love again
Your home is in my heart

"I can't go back the way I've known"

"When you're following a star

You have to walk at night"*

Widders commented on the last post that when we return home, Home isn't always like we remembered.

This is one of my fave themes, actually. Sometimes it's expressed as the idea that we're not trying to get back to the Garden of Eden--gotta keep going forward. In the Hero Journey the hero can't just win the gold (growth, psychological/emotional insights, etc.) and sit on it, cause then you're a dragon!

You have to bring the gold home: The Return. You have to take what you've won, through your tests and trials, and contribute back to society.

 There and back again...

Which ties into the whole idea that home isn't the same, because the journey has changed us.

It's been a fruitful an interesting past year and three months. There are parts of me that I've recovered, like my sense of style. (Check out these Payless faux-Converse I got at work last week!)

 I don't even use these things here in Nanaimo, cause I don't go out. It actually feels like the little funky pieces I've bought are saying: Take us to Montreal! Let's go out!

I've learned to meditate, eat apples, drink water, crochet, sew, and be in the now.

Of course, I've also lost some things. Like my freaking ability to write! Here I am, alone-ee, not socializing, all the time in the world, and I not only have writer's block but I have writer-fear. All quite, quite new for me. In fact, losing so much this past year (and granted it could have been worse, I'm not whining) has been good for my sense of Fragility and Life is Change and Understanding Failure and all the important stuff that helps usher in yea aulde wisdom of agèd years.

And I have to recognize that I'm hitting mid-life crisis territory. Not all my depression or writing blocks or anxieties are necessarily related to being away from my family; I can't expect to go home and have it all disappear. I'm once more facing job hunting, but also the question: What sort of job might I like to do for the next 20 years? What sort of marriage do I want? How do I want to spend my free time?

My dad's favorite singer-songwriter, Steve Bell, has this Christmas song he wrote about the wise men setting off to see bebby Jesus, and then the return home again. It shows how there are a lot of religious stories/myths that can be read at a Campbellian symbolic psychological level.

It perfectly captures this idea of traveling through life, looking for truth or for new experiences; and how those truths and experiences change us: "Everybody can remember when  / They had to stop and start all over again."  And how we return home (like a good Hero) but we can't go back the way we came: "The road for me has changed / Nothing seems to look the same." Which is scary, confusing, but... that's the way it gotta be, yo.

_______
*Old Sage  (Home Again)
Music by Steve Bell / Lyric by Steve Bell and Jamie Howison

 I remember how it started still

Those are days that I remember well

It was something in the stars that was new enough to tell

There was something going down

So we set off for a foreign land

With no idea what we just might find

’cause when you’re following a star

You have to walk at night

Sounds crazy even now


And still the search goes on for

My way back home

I can’t go back the way I’ve known


And now the road for me has changed

Nothing seems to look the same

Don’t get me wrong I’m not complaining

And every star along the way

Holds the promise for the day

When I will be at home again

Some tell me I’m a wise man

A kind of sage you know it makes me laugh

I don’t know what I’m not, barely know what I am

If you know what I mean

But everybody can remember when

They had to stop and start all over again

It was something ’bout that boy in Bethlehem

I will never be the same

Old Sage  (Home Again)
Music by Steve Bell / Lyric by Steve Bell and Jamie Howison

I remember how it started still
Those are days that I remember well
It was something in the stars that was new enough to tell
There was something going down
So we set off for a foreign land
With no idea what we just might find
’cause when you’re following a star
You have to walk at night
Sounds crazy even now
And still the search goes on for
My way back home
I can’t go back the way I’ve known
And now the road for me has changed
Nothing seems to look the same
Don’t get me wrong I’m not complaining
And every star along the way
Holds the promise for the day
When I will be at home again
Some tell me I’m a wise man
A kind of sage you know it makes me laugh
I don’t know what I’m not, barely know what I am
If you know what I mean
But everybody can remember when
They had to stop and start all over again
It was something ’bout that boy in Bethlehem
I will never be the same
- See more at: http://stevebell.com/2007/06/old-sage/#sthash.p7boHdvq.dpuf

Crochet cat and home

Sally Nan (named her in honor of my current place in life) has gotten fed up with me and the writing. She's joined the others in watching tv, and picked up crochet to keep her hands from boxing my ears every five seconds.

 

I'm going to Montreal in one week! I haven't been home in a year and three months. I am homesick like craaaaaazy. I miss Fernando and Minion and Haley so much I feel sick sometimes. I sway between depression, and a sort of hyperness--like now, going to bed waaaay too late.

I'll be there for one week (it's unpaid vacation). If it goes well then I'd like to return home next spring. It feels too soon right now, cause I've kind of settled into my little cocoon here. And I wouldn't leave this job with, like, a two week notice. We've been understaffed awhile now, and only just got back on track. When I do leave I'll give them lots of time to find a replacement. It's a really great little gang of peeps, we all cooperate and help each other, tease, joke, not mean etc.

I've only made two friends here (other than work-only friends)--which was on purpose. Just my brother's friend, Harvey (the one I dog sat for) and Madame Miroir, at work. I'll miss Miroir, but I always come bCk to visit the coast.

Of course, maybe this week won't go so well! But I feel like it will. I'm also going to bring Haley back with me, cause I am so cat deprived. Give her a break from Minion too. I have all kinds of toys for her, and her own plastic laundry basket to scratch up. I feel like the parent who just got joint custody and is preparing the house for their kid to visit.

 

 

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She's the one that I want

Did I mention Jennifer Nettles can rock any cover? This is from the horrible singing contest duets, about which only Nettles was the only good part.

You're the One That I Want


I Will Always Love You


My Heart Will Go On

My new coach

<cat alert>

I was sorting books today, and my coworker placed this angry looking cat on a nearby box and warned me she'd be watching me. She abused me the rest of the day.

I brought her home. Figured she'd force me to work on my writing. Right now she's blocking my view of Two Weeks Notice. Looking like she's rarin' for a fight.

 

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We have heard the chimes at midnight

I went to take out my garbage just now, at 2 AM. (This is also when I write, do dishes etc.) I saw a shadow in the shadows, and it was my proxy cat! Well met by moonlight! (to paraphrase the bard.) We sat on the pavement and had some scratches. But she was less clingy than in daytime. I could tell she had business to take care of, and couldn't tarry long.

Now here's a short clip from Orson Wells' adaptation of Henry IV parts I and II, called The Chimes at Midnight. Dedicated to kitties and other night crawlers.

 

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No one seems to notice, of course; why, it's Ten PM.

One of the things that most cheers me up is James Lilek's Gallery of Regrettable Food. He's some guy who collects old 60s cookbooks, including the ones put out by Jello and Heinz etc; he's posted the most revolting or funny pictures, always accompanied by his hilarious narration. A coworker and I discovered the book version one night at work and lost at least half an hour in the manager's office, tears pouring down our faces. I gave it to her (many years later) as a wedding present.

Here's a page from one of my faves, but do check out the website.

 

Freud never had to ask what men want. Men want liquor. They want a pistachio cordial that matches their ties, matches the coffee cups, and matches the salad and the relish. AVOCADO GREEN, the rutting stags demand.

To remind them they're men, make sure to embed a batch of wriggling, erect weiners in a sea of beans.

According to the illustration above, it was not unusual in the 50s for a party to include a friend who lacked a body. No one seems to notice, of course; why, it's Ten PM.

But what are the kids doing? Read on.

 

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This picture still cracks me up.

Jennifer Nettles can sing the sh*t out of anything

Before you start buying your own music, your taste is influenced by what's in the home. In my case Sgt Pepper, Peter Paul and Mary, the Blues Brothers, Rod Stewart, Bob Marley, the McGarrigles, Prince...

And a couple compilation pop albums that my aunt sent my brother. I can remember almost every song from it, including this one:

Mr Fusspot: The Third Muskateer

There's a new addition to the menagerie:

At work I'm reading Pratchett's Making Money which features, on its cover, Mr Fusspot (Chairman of the Bank.)

 

When we got this stuffed pug in at work I cried out: "It's Mr Fusspot!" Now he shares cuddle-guard duty with Betty Widdersley-Brownlow (avatar name: Morg) the cat, over Praying Mantis the bunny. (Mantis prays 24/7, a feat she's only capable of if supplied with enough hugs.)

The three of them sit on the back of my couch and watch videos with me.

My fears embodied in a yellowjacket

The summer before I came out to Nanaimo there seemed to be more hornets around than usual. I could rarely open my balcony door, cause the bastards kept flying in. And I'm sceert of them!

But I was afraid of a lot of things that summer, so I couldn't help feeling like I was stuck in some damned novelist's symbolism. Pathetic fallacy. My fears embodied. I'd resentfully feel like I was attracting them.

Which is why I love this scene from The Trip--a faux documentary of two Brit actors on a restaurant tour. (It was a show in England, spliced into a movie for the US.)

 

Now whenever Stepmommy and I are trying to get something done and it's going wrong I shout: "You're stuck in a metaphor!"

 

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She Keeps Me Warm

Check this out! Mary Lambert sang the chorus for Macklemore & Lewis' "Same Love" (charting very nicely, by the way)--and then wrote a full length single from it. It's beautiful!