Friday, June 29, 2007

And Lo

The skies broke and the rains came down...kept having flashes from the Wasteland running through my head yesterday afternoon.

Very productive morning in the garden for me--transplanted and separated purple coneflowers, black-eyed susans, nicotiana and hibiscus. Even got the newest bed weeded, watered and mulched. Got everything fertilized and now don't have to worry about being gone the next several days. I still need to get the beetle traps out...they seem particularly heavy this year.

Rehearsal went very well last night--we now have more than enough men to fill out the chorus! Every year it's a fight to get men involved and I was more worried this year than most (we can't really recast sailors, marines and seabees as women), but we managed to recruit some excellent singers who can move well. The songs last night sounded really full...we're having a crash course in the parts tonight but I'm really excited.

I remembered my choreography for "Honey Bun" much to my (and the choreographer's) delight. There's a bit with a passe and then a step ball bit that had given me trouble tuesday...we're running it again tonight so hopefully I'll have it all locked in.

Took twice as long to get home last night as usual...there was an accident on my way home. I'm not surprised...there were a lot of stretches of standing water, heavy rain and mist. Sitting in traffic with the strobing lights of the responders' vehicles lighting the trees, the rain and dark made me feel very anxious. I was really aware that a panic attack could exert itself if I wasn't careful.

Lots of last minute errandy things to do to the bank, renew my car license, clean out the car (with the rain this might just have to be a slapdash effort) making sure I have everything on my list. I only hope I remember all my stuff and don't show up without my underwear and toiletries like last time. Or forget Brian's birthday present like I did last time he was in town (it's only 3 months late at this point.)

Wednesday, June 27, 2007

Too Darn Hot

In honor of the swelter I give you one of the stranger (which is saying something) covers of a Cole Porter tune from the Red Hot and Blue CD. Erasure doing, "It's Too Darn Hot."


It is unseasonably hot and humid here. It's not usually this muggy and stifling until mid-July or August. Everything else I've wanted to do with the gardening at home and the beds at work has gone by the wayside. The main thing now is just keeping it all watered. The tomatoes, those contrary things, love it.


I'm a bad sleeper even under the best conditions and this old farmhouse just sucks in heat and holds onto it, making getting deeply asleep impossible. The heat's also irritated Fletcher who's taken to running about and yowling to be let out each night, usually about half an hour after I'm asleep. Shorter version: everyone here is cranky.


We choreographed the big dance number I'm in last night. It went well enough--even in the heels. After 3 hours though, I was ready to go home and ceased being such a cooperative camper.

In related news, the original director for the show quit last week. Things seem to be going better without him.

Brian's going to see Kathy Griffin tonight at a theatre down the street from his apartment. I'm frankly jealous and wish I could go, but my rehearsal schedule won't allow it. I'll be heading east to see him Saturday, though and staying until July 5th. I'm ready to go now.

Big Ups to C Dale and Jacob. I got the Amazon gift certificate and finally figured out what to order. I'm looking forward to even more book shopping while I'm out of town. There's so much I want to get my hands on right now it's not funny.

I bought a hula hoop today. Sad that what one could do easily at 10 is nearly impossible now.

Tuesday, June 26, 2007

Yes indeedly doo!

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Your Score: Naughty boy

You scored 40% masculine, 41% athletic, 36% exotic, and 37% refined!

You like your men with a more boyish look. The huge muscle-popping men don't do it for you as much as the sleeker toned guys. You like the all-American look, but not the squeaky clean type - a little on the bad boy side. Someone like.....Ashton Kutcher.

My test tracked 4 variables How you compared to other people your age and gender:
free online datingfree online dating
You scored higher than 19% on masculine
free online datingfree online dating
You scored higher than 3% on athletic
free online datingfree online dating
You scored higher than 38% on exotic
free online datingfree online dating
You scored higher than 17% on refined

I'm not so sure about this whole Ashton Kutcher thang... maybe if he was mute and didn't have the flopsweat stank of Demi Moore on him...but overall yes, I am all about the boyish.

Want to know what sort of man does it for you? (You know you do...)

Link: The What type of MAN turns you on Test written by thinkandcome on OkCupid Free Online Dating, home of the The Dating Persona Test

Peter always has the most fun links.

Monday, June 25, 2007

New Adventures in Misanthropy

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The Proud Parents of a Future Pariah

Because you're fertile and can produce a baby doesn't necessarily mean you should. Nothing proves my point more than these people from New Zealand who want to name their kid 4real.

One New Zealand judge even blocked one family from using the name it chose. The judge said the name was unfair to the child.

"Initially, the reaction is, 'Are you for real?'" said Pat Wheaton, the New Zealand father who was blocked from naming his son 4Real.

Wheaton said the idea for the name came when the couple saw the first scan of the child.

"We started thinking 'Jeez, he is for real?'" Wheaton said.
Apparently the morning sickness, tender breasts and swelling belly following unprotected sex were not conclusive enough to convince these geniuses that they were, indeed, about to reproduce.

But when the parents filed the name with New Zealand's Registry of Births, Deaths and Marriages, they were told names beginning with a number were against the rules.

Registrar-General Brian Clarke said the rules are designed to prevent names that are "likely to cause offense to a reasonable person."

Now the pisser is that the only thing standing between these ass-hats naming their kid 4real is a frigging loophole. Numerals are not allowed in New Zealand as part of a name. Sadly there's still a possibility that this kid is gonna be saddled with a name str8 outta Leet.

The government office has opened negotiations with the parents about the name under a policy that says all unusual names must be given case-by-case consideration.

"The name has not at this stage been rejected," Registrar-General Brian Clarke said in a statement Thursday. "We are currently in discussions with the parents ... to clarify the situation."

Clarke said the rules are designed to prevent names that are "likely to cause offense to a reasonable person." Satan and Adolf Hitler were proposed names that have been declined, he said.

If no compromise has been reached by July 9, the baby will be registered as "real," officials say.

There are, of course, people who think this is fine and dandy. Online petitions have already started advocating their right to be unmitigated jackasses. Of course, there are plenty of people out there who think this a good idea and they've made baby naming big business.

Some parents are turning to professional consultants, computer programs, polls and even numerologists to achieve the perfect moniker for their bundle of joy.
"Parents think that if they give their child a unique and special name, the child will become unique and special," said Bruce Lansky, author of "100,000 Baby Names."

Nevaeh, which heaven spelled backwards, has become one of the world's most popular names. But others don't always pass the societal test.

Two boys, one in Michigan and the other in Texas, bear the name ESPN. They were named after the sports network.
Frankly--if you think some cutesy name is gonna insure your kid's gonna be special without doing any of the heavy lifting required to make your child interesting in its own right then you shouldn't be allowed to have a fern, much less a child.

UPDATE "You Can Leave Your Pants On."

Roy Pearson, the judge and lawyer who sued a dry cleaner for 54 million dollars over a lost pair of pants has lost his lawsuit. Now, why doesn't the bar for the District of Columbia look into this.

Obsessively Playing

Got the Amy Winehouse Back to Black cd this weekend while on a monumental shopping death march. It's addictive. I've not listened to anything else. This track, "Tears Dry on Their Own" is in near-constant rotation on my iTunes. Loff, loff, loff it. Here she is doing it on the BBC's Later with Jools Holland program.

Friday, June 22, 2007

Drive By Shooing

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The hotel and restaurant property where I landscape has two built in planters that are each of the building's side entrances. One is pretty shady so it's planted with several white-margined hosta, the other planter is in full sun and is filled with a variety of annuals.

The other morning I get there, about to water and I notice a rather large clump of petunias had been uprooted. I assumed it had been done by a drunk patron, cursed my fellow men and went on about my morning. I show up the next morning, same thing.

It turns out that this has been done not by drunk patrons, but a female mallard, who's chosing to nest in the planter. She was there this morning when I arrived, displacing herself as I approached, abandoning her egg.

I also found a discarded Sierra Mist can that had been McGyvered into a smoking apparatus. It brought back memories of college.

Thursday, June 21, 2007


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No rehearsal this evening so I had almost the entire day to myself...though frankly we need the rehearsal time. Have felt sort of logey all day just because I've not been as active as normal. Depressing. Woke up the same as normal and watched Buffy while I had breakfast. It was the "Doppelgangland" episode with vampire of my faves.

I have inexplicably had the song "Sex Bomb" in my head all damned day. It could be could be the theme to Thunderball.

Did some transplanting and gardening at home. Things are filling in better and better. The decoy garden is thick with sprouting stuff--I have no idea what I'm looking at, but it appears to be plenty of baby sprouts kicking up from the straw. I hope it works because the tomatoes are going crazy and looks to be a huge crop this year.

Wednesday, June 20, 2007

Shoes, Shoes, Little Black Shoes

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the Capezio 650 character shoe

Years ago, I was a Kit-Kat girl in a production of Cabaret at my alma mater (and yes I did wear them with black fishnets like those above). The director wanted a man in drag and she asked me if I'd do it, since she didn't think any of the college boys would be comfortable. I wasn't particularly comfortable with it either (there's a reason I'm not a drag queen...I'm one uuuuuuugly woman.) But I said I would--it seemed like a lark. I knew I could walk and dance in heels but had never tried it in a real pair of dance shoes. So I ordered a pair like those pictured above in an 11. They were remarkably comfortable, I just need a little bit of moleskin at the heel to prevent blisters.

I dragged them out of storage over the weekend for a number I'm doing in South Pacific. They need some polish and edge dressing to cover scuffs from that production; they also need to be stretched a little in the toe but are still remarkably comfortable (yes, I've been wearing them around the house today to reacclimate myself.) Dance rehearsals start next week...I'm oddly excited. They make my calf muscles look great.


The reading went off without a hitch...well without a major hitch. Couple of stumbles (primarily due to lighting and my need for a new spec. prescription.) I didn't read anything too dirty (the bath house and sodomy sonnets stayed at home) but the crowd responded well overall. It helped focus me on some weak points in poems and showed me that some things work better than I've thought. There's some talk of a return engagement in the fall when college kids are in town.

The organizer wants to mix sets of live music with sets of live poetry primarily to move audience members in and out of their comfort zones. I think this is a grand idea--it's something I really believe in aesthetically. I hope this takes off. There are a number of poets in the area, but not a lot of activity where we can go out and read and support one another--a series like this could really strengthen the community, especially since we're a disparate bunch of writers who seem to work solitarily.


I was cruised by a man on a bicycle today while straightening and tending trees at work. Very creepy honestly. He stops and makes small talk, asking me about the particular tree I'm working on (a weeping pussy willow), how it was developed etc etc. I'm only halfway paying attention, trying to be polite but not exactly encouraging further convo. while trying to figure out angles and things to stake the trees upright so they don't interfere with drivers' sight lines, turning out of the parking lot into traffic.

He compliments the current owners of the property on their efforts, the quality of the restaurant, etc etc. Then he starts talking at length about lacking a "dining companion" and about how uncomfortable it is to go places (movies, restaurants) alone. He seemed oblivious to how uncomfortable his entire line of patter was. It was more than a little interesting to notice how he'd move in and out of conversational modes, trying to feel me out, being a little coarse one minute, then showing varying levels of sophistication, trying to find the right note to draw me in. Even if I wasn't dating somebody I wouldn't have been interested...totally not my type. Like I said, creepy and a little sad.


The transplanted butterfly weed is going like gangbusters--no drooping or anything. I now know the trick for transplanting. It's too bad there was only the single clump in the meadow.
Everything else seems to be resisting the insane heat and doing well. The tomatoes are popping out tiny green babies. It seems a bit early to me, but this growing season has been awfully strange.

Tuesday, June 19, 2007

T-Minus 6 Hours and Something

Until tonight's reading. I'm anxious. I'm sure I'll be fine once I get there--it's a bar so if my nerve fails, I know the Jameson's and water rocks won't. Poems are picked (I have a rough idea of ordering but will wait til a little bit before I go to finalize), outfit's picked (this has always been very important to me) and I'm anxious to roadtest some of these new poems.

Monday, June 18, 2007

Grab Bag

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Sadly, the waste of space neighbors have transferred the miraculous escape cows to new quarters. I'm sure they'll work their magic in that enclosure as well; those instances just won't be as likely to interfere with my life.

I'll be doing a short reading at a joint here on Tuesday night at 9:00ish. I'm working out a list of pieces now. I've not read publicly for a couple of years. Should be fun once I get over the nerves.

I was mistaken in an earlier post. Only one poem's found a home so far.


Too hot to do much of anything.

Saturday, June 16, 2007


Today's horoscope has solved the problem of what I'm wearing to dinner tonight. Thank you, constellations

Costume yourself before leaving the house today. Forget that earth-toned wallpaper you call your wardrobe. This is a day for sparkles, feathers and fur. Rock on little cowgirl.

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I went with blue because it brings out my eyes--

red just made me look trampy.

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And I found these panties!

Paris in Prison

One of the earliest ways I really learned to write and manipulate language was by doing song parodies to amuse myself. It cued me in to the possibilities of sound over sense. Anyway--this parody of Paris' "Stars are Blind" is really one of the best I've encountered in a long time.

Friday, June 15, 2007

Currant Events

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A friend gave me a small currant bush which I finally found space to inter. It's going to be a while before it bears fruit but I can't wait. We had a row of three bushes when I was a kid. I loved going out in summer and picking the little red clusters and popping them in my mouth, bursting them against the palate with my tongue. So tart and almost astringent. I'm not sure if they'll have the same appeal as a grown-up, but I'm going to try.


Went traipsing through the meadow today with the spade and wheelbarrow, digging up large clumps of butterfly weed before the field's mowed for hay. I'm hoping that harvesting in a sizable clump and just sinking them into the garden as is will allay the transplanting problems I've had in the past with them. Related to milkweeds, they have a deep taproot that doesn't like being disturbed. We'll see how it goes. I've tried to establish them several times in the past with no luck, both by seed and by transplant. This just may be one I have to give up on.

Wednesday, June 13, 2007


Via Pamela and Peter I give you the scattergories meme.

Your name: RJ G.
A Country: Romania
Song Title: Rock Lobster
An Artist: Robert Rauschenberg (ok...yea...I'm stick with the alliterative qualities too.)
A Reason to Stay Home from Work or School: Rest & Relaxation
Something you'd see at a Zoo: Red Uakari Monkey
A Snack: Rice Cakes
A Character in a Book: Roderick Usher
Something Icky: Regurgitated pet food
A Six-letter Word: Rubric
Something Breakable: Rules
Non-Alcoholic Drink: Red Bull
Something you Whisper: "Right now."

This Biz We Call Po'

This week has been crazy and good lord it's only Wednesday. It's been a cycle of work, home, rehearsal, home. No real time to do more than cursory reads of blogs or news or email. I feel dreadfully uninformed. But I've been jotting down random lines and images like crazy. I've taken to carrying a pocket sized notebook and pen(cil) with me at work. It always seems to happen this way--I get a block of unoccupied time and I think: great, I'll write and work on some poems. The time comes, I sit down, nothing comes. When I'm seriously overprogrammed though, that's when the new work starts pouring out. I'm not complaining, mind...just noting.


Poems have found homes. Huzzah. More info. once I know more myself. I'm very pleased, one is an oldy that I've always loved but was never sure of.

Separated at Birth

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Saturday, June 9, 2007

Postcards from the Edge

I love when my friends travel--especially when they decide to send postcards or pictures. It's interesting to note that they never really send things like pictures of cityscapes at night, grand landmarks, or those sorts of things. Nope--not my friends--they really seem to think of me when they correspond. They send me things like this:

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from Holly, Greece and the Mediterranean, 1995

or this:

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from Minda, Greece, 2003

or this:

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from Ashlee, Belgium, 2007

And of course they don't just send me examples of statuary and fine art--they also share their nature snaps.

West Virginny Chainsaw Masacre

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Thursday night's read-through's go with an anagram shall we?...SERF CUT LUCK.

Although scheduled to begin at 6:00, key people (like ooooh, the director and two of the leads) weren't there until after 7:30 (one didn't show at all.) Tons and tons of bloviating just so people can hear themselves speak. No cast lists to help identify who's who (minor quibble maybe, but it would've made the reading much simpler if we could've known who we had on hand and who we needed to fill in for when their lines came up). Honestly...I'm set for a full on screaming diva blowup if this sort of thing continues...and since it's been par for the course so far...I see no reason to believe it won't.


The tomatoes are growing marvelously so far, a few early blooms popping up here and there. Trying to get caught up this weekend on my own weeding and trimming--so much to do that I honestly don't know where to start. The rains have sent everything into overdrive. My acidanthera and tigridia bulbs are growing madly and I love them for cut flowers. The seedlings are thriving but I've now lost my little planting plot to the bed so I don't know what's what...I'm pretty sure there are some weeds creeping in there but for now I'll leave them be--just until I know exactly what I'm dealing with. I'm thinking of hitting the nursery this week and grabbing 4 or 5 things to fill in there just in case I'm looking at more weeds than flowers.

I have all the stuff I need for the decoy garden--straw to mulch, kale seed, turnip seed and rutabaga seed. (FYI--you can fit one bale of commercially prepared straw into the hatchback of a Ford Focus ZX3.) As soon as it's dried off I'll go out and cut the grass down to the ground, rake it up and broadcast. It's going in near the edge of the meadow as far away from the tomatoes and herbs as I can get it. This seems a good plan--yesterday afternoon I saw a young buck grazing in the meadow about 20 yards from where I plan to plant. If I can keep them drawn to that part of the property it's all to the good. I might check into putting a salt lick out there just to make sure they're attracted.


I learned to operate a chainsaw this morning. Frightening. A friend asked me to do some trimming and maintenance on shrubs and things near her house next week. She also wants a large (and invasive) rose of sharon removed. I found someone willing to loan me the 'saw and teach me how to use it. All I kept thinking was--don't cut off your leg. I'm not sure if I can muster the testicular fortitude to carry through with this. I'm pretty confident that if you haven't used a chainsaw by the time you turn 30, you probably never should.

Neologism of the Day

masochismo (mas-uh-chiz—moh, mæs ətʃɪzmoʊ)noun
gratification or pleasure gained from pain, deprivation, degradation, etc., inflicted or imposed on oneself, as a result of one's own strong or exaggerated sense of manliness, virility, or competence, esp. the tendency to seek this form of gratification by overscheduling one’s time.

Feel free to work into your everyday usage.

Thursday, June 7, 2007

Okay. Well, Then.

Today's Horoscope for Leos:

Today you'll be forced to ask yourself if you're really doing all you can in this lifetime. The answer will probably be the same old resounding no, but you'll remain confused about how to remedy it.


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So the waste of space neighbors had another (multiple) cow break out this morning. As I was trying to drive to work. There they were: three surly calves traipsing along the road. I slowed to a crawl and thought I would be able to squeak by them. As if.

They began running ahead of me, veering back and forth. One brown bastard turned and was about to charge my car. The only thing I thought was no...wait til it's paid off...sweet jesus.

Finally one of the ridiculous slope headed people who works for the wos neighbors comes running and herds the calves back into their enclosure. You see, the calves can walk BETWEEN the strands of barbed wire. Very effective.

This has been the third escape since May. I only learned about the second one a day ago. That escapee wrecked another neighbor's yard and mock oranges--totally snapped them off and tromped things down. Was there an apology? An offer to replace or pay for the damaged plants? What do you think?

Sadly, all my efforts to google "fat man with a mullet in a camel light tee shirt and feed cap" or any of its permutations turned up nothing. I really wish I could've snapped some photos of this prize in action. I bet some of you singles out there would have begged for his contact info. He was poetry in motion. It actually made the whole ludicrous experience worth it. Of course it would've been better if he'd gotten kicked or fallen in a fresh cow flop, but ya can't have everything.

Wednesday, June 6, 2007

South Pacific

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Ray Walston as Luther Billis in South Pacific

Just got the call about my role for South Pacific.

I'm going to play Luther Billis. I'm not sure if my hometown is ready for me to be goin round on stage with my shirt open...but I guess I'll be doing a lot of cardio, push ups and crunches over the next 7 weeks.

There's a lot of fun here I think--a) fake tattoo of a ship on my stomach (if you look closely at the pic of Ray Walston above you can juuuuust make out part of it) (I'm far more delighted/amused by this than Brian is.) b) a musical number wearing a coconut bra and grass skirt (again, I'm more amused) and c) well...I'll get back to you about c.

Now...what do I do about the nipple ring?

What Immoral Hand or Eye

Generally when I do this, it's an eruption of contempt and sheer bitchiness. In this case it's all love and admiration.

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Sarah Silverman


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Amy Winehouse


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The daylilies are going nuts. There's going to be a profusion of blooms this summer judging by the buds they've shot up. A couple of weeks ago I was talking to a friend about them and she said "They're really almost vulgar when they're happy." Indeed--and I'm fine with that.

I might've mocked the name, but Bug-Geta is effective. (Note to Pamela: I've tried the beer approach in the past with no success--my dog Bella also likes beer, it seems. BTW--regarding roses...have you ever tried spent teabags broken up and scattered around? They're also good for other acid loving plants--ferns especially--but I've seen good results with a few of the old fashioned roses I got from my grandmother's place.)

Some of the tomatoes are blooming. I'm going to sow some turnip and kale seed this weekend on the far side of the property as a decoy garden for deer. It's near the fruit trees (which I never harvest b/c generally the fruit's mealy and hard) and they feed out there through the summer anyway. I'm curious to see how well this tactic works. A few online organic gardening places swear by it as do a few of my friends.

I've been strafed twice today by hummingbirds while working in the yard. This happened last week as well when I was working in the same spot. Curious.


Auditions went well last night . I did my thing and it's now out of my hands. I should know the casting decision tonight. There were a lot of good people and a fair amount of silliness and hamming around in the down times.


The "long poem" is cooking along. Four sections are done...or nearly so...but of course by done I mean "worked to a point that I'm not embarrassed by them". The process feels clue what's really happening here...just writing and cutting and playing...feeling my way through the dark.

Tuesday, June 5, 2007

Are You a Hypochondriac?

Take a quiz here and find out.

Hitting the Boards

Last night was the first set of auditions for the community theatre's summer production of South Pacific. I hemmed and hawed about auditioning--mainly because I knew I was going to be gone for a week during production and I just hate doing that. I got an ok from the powers that be about the absence and went.

It was fun--a little singing, a little cold line reading, a little choreography (not so fun for me), a little catch up with people I only seem to see during the summer shows. This will be my (gasp) 20th year with the group.

I was haunted throughout auditions by a line from Aaron's poem "Casino Royale 2006" in the new's hard to sing "Nothin' Like a Dame" when a) you don't really believe that and b) you have the phrase "veiny/ and strange" running through your head. Lots of good stuff there if you've not checked it out yet.

I have to report back for more auditioning tonight.

Monday, June 4, 2007

Separated at Birth

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Donatella Versace,
designer, jetsetter, collagen addict


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guitarist for Dr. Teeth & the Electric Mayhem

Sunday, June 3, 2007

Still Love You Like That, Da Da Da Da

Finally we've gotten a few rains. Huzzah. No need to keep lugging around the portable sprayer. The downside is I've found myself wandering about the house singing "Here Comes the Rain Again" to myself in my best Elmer Fudd voice (which, honestly, is not that good.)


Went to see Knocked Up with my friend Eric yesterday. Funny flick. Well, there was one bit that I had to cover my eyes for. Some great ad-libbed bits between Seth Rogan and Paul Rudd (not as funny as the "You know how I know you're gay" bits from 40 Year Old Virgin but funny.) Equally funny was the senior couple who were at the end of our row. It's a little odd listening to a man old enough to be your grandfather explaining what a "BJ" is to a woman old enough to be your grandmother. Funny enough that I wasn't pissed at them for being loud.


One batch of poems submitted this weekend. Hoping to get the next batch out by the end of the week. The long poem has a title (which will most likely be changed by the time it's finished) and is proceeding...slowly.


Have decided to gird up my loins and battle the slugs this summer. They're always about but I usually leave them be. They seem really plentiful this year and are wreaking havoc in all my beds. Basil leaves like swiss cheese and all my hosta transplants look rasped. It also makes walking barefoot a dangerous prospect.

I'm trying to figure out the least harmful way to kill them...I don't want to kill any of the other beneficial critters who live in the beds, but surely, the slugs must die. I went to a couple of the garden centers looking for bait, killers, whatever so I could price them and see if they'd do the job just not kill everything else. In the midst of the search I found this:

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I love it, Geta. Not Getr but the more urban Geta. Though I think it should be spelled "Getta." I started singing the Ini Kamoze song "Here Comes the Hotstepper" to myself in Lowe's but reworked it to being about killing slugs "Here Comes the BugGeta, murderer/ I'm the gastropod gangster, murderer" etc, etc.

Sometimes I'm too geeky to be around people.

Friday, June 1, 2007


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The poems, they go out. I wait. I hate it.

Off with Their Heads!!

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Totally forgot to mention this yesterday. Halfway to work there is an abandoned business just beside the highway. It's been many things over the years: laundromat; convenience store; car lot, and probably a couple of other things I've forgotten. I'm driving to work yesterday morning, talking on the cell to Brian. As I get closer to the business I notice a guy standing in the parking lot, a few feet behind a battered and bondoed sedan. He appeared to be administering a field sobriety test to himself--walking along the seams in the concrete, trying to maintain a straight line, arms held out straight from his sides.

I feel it's important to note he was wearing a white button down shirt and black shorts with a white hibiscus pattern, he also had socks pulled halfway up his calves.

People are offering to buy tomatoes from me. I find this sort of crazy when there's a great farmer's market here.

Went out to work in the yard this afternoon and found another 3 foot long snake, crossing the patch. No clue what sort. Definitely not a black snake, although it is (errr was) a blackish-brownish color with a subtle diamond pattern. I fetched the machete and played Red Queen with it. Apparently there are a lot of snakes this summer...huzzah. I found myself wishing my grandfather was still alive--he'd have known what it was. I just hope I don't run across a copperhead. Oy god. I'll scream like a girl. Might even tinkle a little.