in bloom

Pretty sure there’s at least a dozen…

notes

• planning 1st family vacay, woohoo! have much packing to do.
• still love yoga.
• am ravenous @ the moment.
• it’s like, so hot outside i can barely stand it.
• it reminds me of why exactly i want to move to the mountains. will be able to garden all summer for instance, without feeling imminent death?
• my garden goes along. i should take pictures. one of my tomatoes is turning red. i’m not sure the okra will ever produce. i have one very tiny pepper. the beans are done. the roses have exploded! lovely. some of the zucchini have died and so i pulled part of it, but some continues to grow. but should i have planted them next to the cucumbers? it remains to be seen. the leaves are healthy, but again, production seems iffy.
• downgraded netflix subscription as experiment. am renting some newer flicks from library, which can be obtained by reserving them first online.
• quit twitter after a brief affair. clutter.
• was recently given flowers just because it had been awhile. happiness!
• projects upon return: rent twilight from library, revise fish tank, with possible new background scenery and new fish? re-fabric some backyard chairs. and um, blog more. :)

Today I, by M

I can't articulate due to the brain and the wanting to sleep thing but,

i feel like a very tall blue vase filled with bubbly water in a dark corner with a sliver of light hitting it. the light is sort of yellowish and faint.

FTA, by M

Since I've Been Gone, by M

Usually I come home pretty wiped out from the day what with the 10hours of physical labor and what not. Ever since the pre/pro crew left, along with Scully and then the Production crew walked in- the energy shifted and it took some getting used to. It's dark for instance. The usual khaki shorts and black shirts, walkies, lots of shouting to be QUIET ON SET, and I meanwhile get coated in plaster, paint and grime and find myself mid brushstroke, carrying the paint bucket, washing something, walking, drinking and have to PAUSE and SETTLE in while they shoot. Plus I stand out what with the uncleanliness. The swearing is down too and the smoking is solely out of doors though these guys tend to circle and smoke together and bitch about everything...and its a whole different kind of tense. Sort of uptight and responsible and not gruff and manic. Sort of crazy disguised as normal.

But I wanted to tell you the end of the story. I have a week left and its a bit of a grind. The Prod Designer came in today, for instance, and said that I'd tracked plaster into the office and that he'd managed to pick up all the pieces. But after 2 weeks of him complaining, as nice as he is, about tidying piles, catching drips, trash, misaligned things, and order I'm tired of him too.

But the prepro crew, though I can't beat the last story, I have to wrap them up with the following:

Masturbation metaphor: I used to do my first experiments in the lavatory. (guy glances over at me, i'm grinning, they apologize anyway.) Cuz its a lot like "laboratory". Sorry.

Girl scenic help: I locked my keys in the car! A few guys glance up from their breakfast plates and immediately wheels start turning. They infact make her sit down and belay her call to AAA. They ask, what kind of car? She says, Jeep Cherokee. They resume eating. Then suddenly about 4 of them disappear. I wander out later and there is various bits of guy talk about breaking into cars and they seem to be discouraged about their abilities. But a guy named Beano who has a cigar in his mouth, white hair, stocky and had recently said to me as I held a calking gun, I want you to do that to me later. I said, not unless you pay me. He says, you'll do it for free and you'll like it.

He's the man at the drivers door. And holding a long strip of metal they've taken from one of their wood and drywall deliveries. Scully calls AAA and Scenic Girl and a few others walk off. Suddenly there's a pop and Beano says, "I still got it!" I applaud and whistle and the others come back out. He got it?! "Yah I got it." He struts back in and we all get back to work. Scenic Girl is saved a call but now nervous about her car.

Are You A Friend of Bill?: That's what Scully and D- asked me as I stared out at them from the loading bay as they smoked their cigarettes. Scully says, This is my last habit I swear. I shrug my shoulders, now already embodying some sort of moral/social and ethical force of clean living. As they walk in they say, Are you a friend of Bill? I say, No, I'm a friend of Rob. They laugh. They're like, ha! we like that! That's even better!

Not sure what the punchline is but having an inkling I google it and sure enough its urban slang for asking if I'm in recovery... a broad application, first for AA and also NA and whatever recovery type of thing we're talking about addiction wise. Maybe they were taking bets on how squeaky my clean really was. Though most people on set think i'm about 21. It's a compliment yes? but a little bit annoying... and surprisingly a lot of people on set are all 33. And they all say, oh you're MY age. Yes, yes I am, actually.

So,the friend of bill research sort of prepared me for D- and his eyes getting wider, and the hair sticking straight up, and his face beet red come Tuesday. And he can't seem to stand still any longer or take direction, or complete a task and he disappears for hours and the PD keeps asking where is D and i DON'T KNOW. But D when I do see him says, I turned down two jobs for this. I'm hung over. My girlfriend is mad at me. I hate production-sort of clues me into his state of mind so I felt a little bad for him when I saw him slumped over on a 5 gallon paint bucket snoring and dead to the world... but then he disappeared completely and they said he'd been sent home because he stole pills and then I found 6 empty beer bottles behind the paint cans and an empty cigarette pack- but of course with the boys there are always 2nd chances and he showed up the next day, normal and straight, sullen and so over everything. Which I get. I do. It happens. Which is why sometimes you have to leave before last call and the show closes for the night. Even if the PD thinks you're going to stay and work on the castle and you drive home anyway.

Makes me think of the day that Scully slapped me on the ass a couple of times and said, Good job Mama!

And I smile and I wish I was back there with all of them like that. Not in the dark, listening to bad acting and waiting to rust rivets on doors, waiting for it to end or something else to happen or for D to disappear or the PD to complain about the mess or feel bad about my boys working 16 hour days- and finding someway to get a life despite that.

G'nite.

shh… don’t be scared now

fleurs

It’s apparently the week of flowers in Pen’s garden. I’m glad I snapped a pic of K.Lo’s nasturtium, because half an hour later the blossom was strewn in the yard… sad. Hopefully there will be more to come.

 

The Mother’s Day roses are ready for Round 2.

Sunflower mania!

 

And some rather spindly looking zinnias. Cool. K.Lo was allowed to pick just one.

In squash news, which you knew was coming, we discovered two other colors: a deeper yellow squash, and a lighter green zucchini. Sweet! Literally.

 

And as for the other bed, it’s come back to life! Thanks to somebody’s mom, who advised that there might be mites. Indeed, everything in the bed, beans, peppers, okra, and tomatoes, were crawling with pesky little life-sucking creatures. K.Lo helped me take care of them, and this week we are seeing much new growth. Hooray!

m.onthejob: add’l scenes

Queen of Grout

Entering a boy den is always a tricky thing. Especially with a stereotype collection of felons, bikers, gruff construction workers, and you have the basics of who is building movie sets. They're usually heavily tattooed and foul mouthed too. I do not exaggerate. And at the point I got there I was the only girl on set. A scrappy white guy with dreds and a weathered face named "Scull-y" looked me up and down and says, Are you going to get dirty in that? With your fancy sweater and your shoes? I said, this is a $10 shirt from old navy. Then I thought how dirty are we getting? He said, can you draw a straight line? I said firmly, yes. Though I did have my doubts. And it became clear to me why I had to ring favors out of my friend and only did the cubicle 4.116 move my friends boyfriend to pity for a recommend. But then I think, have a little faith already. Apparently they're so used to getting idiots that the fact that i can draw a straight line makes me a sparkling genius, that and I'm quick.

Scully said, do not draw lines here, and here and here- and there- that would fuck me up. Don't fuck me up. I said, I don't hate you yet. He took me arm in arm to survey the set. He said, you got it? Yahh, yah, I said, I got it.

him: who knew she was going to be so competent.

Then later talking to his felon friend RayRay. RayRay says, what do you need today Scully? And Scully says, my cock sucked. (they laugh) He then notes I am in the room quitely painting. He puts his arm around my shoulder, "That was so inappropriate of me. Sorry. Do you forgive me? I'm so sorry."

Words from another guy, "This beats jail though, and the crew is nice."

Words from today: I get a hug from Scully in the morning, who often shouts my name and calls me the Queen of Grout. He drops his cigarette ashes in the paint buckets and tells me how his biker gang threw him a baby shower, and that they cussed him out for crying. He said, it wasn't my fault, i was just so fucking touched.

And the guys, they seem to like me calling me random names like whatever shirt i'm wearing: like stussy,redsand and billabong. And saying things like, after my 9th heartattack i realized I had to get my life straight. I'm 52, now i'm going to music school and I've just written a symphany. I really do want to see this producer succeed. And another, hey you probably went to school for this and now your drawing straight lines. Yes sir I say, I have the debt to prove it. Good girl he says, what does debt matter anyway.

Even a random actor walked in, viewing the set came by, and my eyes sort of locked with his, thinking, I know this guy! But probably not. But maybe? He says, sorry to interrupt. I say, not at all. I run into him later, I at the top of the ladder with a paint can and roller in my hand, he says, have we met before? I said, yes, maybe? He said, were we lovers? I said, yes, and it was beautiful.

He smiles. The executive producer walks off, he says to him, what- i was busy flirting.

Then later Scully tells me two more girls are coming and he wants me to mentor them and show them what to do. I said, what like a girl gang? He said, yes, so you could all pms together and give me the stink eye.

So we can tell you to stop your foul mouthed, smoking ways?
Yes. Fucking exactly that, I'm so glad you're here.

m, on the job

This week, Special Agent M reports to the set of a low-budget, black-and-white horror flick to work her set magic. Cue the scary organ music, along with the wicked laughter. And the thunder clap.

weeks later

One tiny thing that disappointed me about the “Grey’s Anatomy” finale (and this is only a tiny spoiler, Andria, shouldn’t affect your experience of watching it in August ;) is that Izzie, when she went to her day-dreamy Happy Place, escaped to the beach. I know, it’s a small, practically inconsequential point of contention. But to me, it seemed a little… cliché? I get that she’s a doctor, spends all her time in a hospital, and so her happy place could very logically be sprawled out in a chaise, wearing a bikini and taking in the sound of the waves. It’s a lot people’s idea of bliss, I guess. I just felt like the writers could have been a little more original? Or maybe that would have detracted from the rest of the plot.

Anyway, it got me thinking about what my Happy Place would be, should I require some mental escape, i.e. in the dentist chair, or whatever. It definitely wouldn’t be the beach, because while I love the waves and the shells and the sounds and the smells, it just makes me think of sand on my sunglasses and sunburned skin, self-consciousness and dehydration in 1 hour or less. I know. Ridiculous. But laying out at the beach is not the most relaxing time in the world for a fair-skinned, sensitive soul such as myself. I think I’d transport myself mentally to the Italian countryside.

Give me some rolling Tuscan hills, please. Some chickens and goats, and olive trees. A villa with a big kitchen… I’ll make meals there, and bread, and maybe even cheese. And obviously there will be a garden as well as a winery in this place. The means, essentially, to make all our food. It may not even have any modern conveniences… we may have to do everything by hand. It may take all day to do one little thing.

Sometimes I kind of think I’d like a world where saving time wasn’t a choice… It might be relaxing. Less complicated. And a richer overall experience? Perhaps. Either way, it would be beautiful and amazing there, I’m convinced in my mind—which is all that matters, in terms of the whole idea of “escape.”

Where is your Happy Place?

While You Were Gone, by M

It rained. Which is crazy for the end of May into June. A cool rain, and 2 weeks of grey grey days. A reprieve for whatever comes what may. (the blazing heat of summer)(the tumbling down the empty reservoir into drought, perpetual in our arid climbs) and by rain i mean once every 3/4 hours for 5/10min at a time.

I had a dream that I was talking to people in a church and it was empty and i was high up in a balcony with wooden pews and then i was holding onto the side of a cliff as a waterfall shot out as wide as Niagara, to my right. And I craned out and twisted to try and get a better view of the most magnificent sight. As the water thundered, whales and dolphins leaped off the waterfall and out into the vast ocean, out to the horizon. Killer whales, and mammoth blue whales, and grey whales surging out to freedom. When it was over I told the nameless not seen people to help pull me in off the cliffs edge, as I probably better not test my hold for too much longer, as i threaded my hands into what felt like woven together paper. I had a last glance to what looked like a dolphin that didn't make it, and got hit on the rocks, but it was just a tree branch.

Last night I had a dream that I was in some sort of school, or small orphanage in a small faraway place. And whatever had happened none of the other students believed me, and the evil woman who was in charge had one upped me. So i had to run away. While everyone was out, I crawled around gathering my things. And found someone had bought me a new red duffel bag to replace the one I had. And there were notes in it from my friend Brigid, A yellow cross made like snowflakes are made, but on glossy paper, a note from Autumn, and a note from Sarah. I thought how sweet, but was somehow overwhelmed and concerned with bigger things. And then I woke up.

Tuesday I start an art department job on a low budget horror flick. My friends boyfriend Rob called me and I was like who is this rob guy- oooh ROB. Hey what's up? Heck yah i'll take it! Pays the same as this logging job i have now but is only 2.5 miles from my house.

I see a sliver of blue sky.

Thank Heaven for Small Favors, by M

Granted it's the littlest of my tickets but STILL. Small favors. Small favors.

more progress

I know you’re sick of my damn squash pictures already, but I cannot help myself! The first one will be ready (I think) tomorrow! I’ve had prolific squash plants in the past, but none that have looked so darn healthy. I feel like I’ve done something right with this bed.

K.Lo, too, grew some lovely flowers this year:

 

 

And we’ve got a couple of green tomatoes. The newer garden bed is sadly a different story from the squash bed. IF I could do it all over again, I would have mixed the soil with some good fertilizer, or perhaps some organic compost. Next crop, I will do both. In the meantime, I’ve been sprinkling some coffee grounds around the base of the plants, and I plan to pick up some fertilizer spikes at the home improvement store soon. The soil just needs an extra kick, and I don’t have enough terracycle on hand to do the job. In the meantime, the tomatoes are growing, but “eh.” The pepper is just pitiful. And the beans! Don’t  even get me started on the beans, I just hope they can be salvaged. I thinned… but they’re pale, all of a sudden, and no longer growing much, after such an impressive start. They do have flowers this week. The okra, on the other hand, is doing much better since the thinning, and I think they will do all right, all though I have no past okra growing experience by which to judge.