vortex

I know, I know. You won’t touch pinterest with a 10-foot pole. Which I totally understand. Because who needs yetanothersite to which you’re devoting your interest and time. And several other arguments against. But 3 neat things! that I’ve totally done and never would have thought of otherwise ~

Lemon sugar hand scrub, made with sugar, olive oil and lemon juice. Leaves hands lovely.

Green onion tips in a glass, situated on a sunny windowsill. Allegedly yields a neverending supply.

And! This is my own picture, taken this morning. J.Lo signed up to bring a 7-layer dip to a work potluck today, and I found this spin. There’s a glow-in-the-dark spider on top!

xoxo,

pinterested pen

party on ~

There has to be words between us, always, as I’d wither away without them. I’m already nervous about your going to Korea and blogging in another language and attending tea with KJL, who will Look at Things. Oh, sure, you’ll allegedly be far from the barbed-wire border, in some Korean version of Hawaii, but let’s never underestimate the dear leader. That would be a fatal mistake. Here I feel like we need to picture Sh@wn W@llace in “TPB,” expounding on such matters. Although it’s not actually inconceivable, is the thing.

J.Lo’s party was a success. He did not go as the real J.Lo, who, did you see? is now doing Venus commercials. Like the same sellout brand of razor that lured Jewel over to The Dark Side. It’s just not okay. We can allow the mini car commercial, but the razors, the fake singing at the fake concert in the gold dress, “I’m your Venus/I’m your fire?” Really? I guess M@rc @nthony is demanding alimony. Is the only thing I can figure.

Anyway. Here are pictures of our rock-star awesomeness as P!nk and Barry Effin’ Gibb. Should I go full time with a nose ring? In non-allergenic niobium? Oh wait, that would cost money. And pain.

Speaking of pain, after the weekend, my entire right thigh was covered in bruises. No idea. Because mysterious bruises have occurred my whole life, but I really don’t remember that moment of “AGH! That is going to leave a mark.” Like walking into a coffee table or something. But my purse was full with a book and a camera amongst other things and did happen to fall flush with the largest bruise. So that’s the only thing I’ve come up with. The constant thwacking of purse against leg. As J.Lo noted, “Either way, you’re weird.”

And it’s a good thing the weekend was so fun and fabulous (rock stars! birthdays! goodfood! wicked beach house! AshMelTom!). Because the rest of the week has been craptastic. At least until Thursday afternoon or so, when my life-sucking cold finally started to go away. And my bad luck streak began to ebb. Summation:

-pulled over by Mayberry officer. had pink hair and barking dogs in back seat at time. didn’t have inspection sticker for “the state of Vuh-ginia.” because I’m stupid.

-frantically ran errands/quested for said sticker the next day. battery died. J.Lo summoned to rescue. new battery acquired. irony of sticker-questing/timing noted.

-sticker could not be acquired until forking over big wad o’ cash for new brake pads. not happy with predatory-type service in which they attempted to extract even larger wad of cash. I hate that.

-cold progressed, virus coursing through veins, total sapping of energy

-the Crazy is back, apparently every 3 weeks now. I don’t want to talk about it.

-calendar is absurdly full, too full. no introvert recovery time. emotional energy meter flashing bright red. due for recharge.

However, there’s a sculpey Jesus in the making and a magnetized wall for kids’ artwork being planned. (Because I can’t find my desk again. Covered. In things.) Recharge time not exactly imminent but on the horizon. And more words. More words. More words…

xoxo

pinky punky pen

I'm sorry,

where are we?! Have I lost you? Have we lost ourselves? It's something we have to get around to asking everyoncenawhile. Are the words gone? When we only have our intermittent vocal/visuals/touchingbase-

It's not that October has been that bad to us right? Maybe it's just fall out from the preceding months of grim penniless existences- though my mom is God's provision for me, i still can't help but think I'm cheating? Maybe that's it. I haven't been too busy selling gold and trimming hedges. My butterfly LIVES. Why didn't I jump right on and tell the story of that, I helped to save it. I pinned its silken tail to an ivy wall and it lived, or wandering by a creek just yesterday. Glorious, in the heat of the blue and the invasive reeds rising out over the rushing water- talking about gold flecks and floating down stream. Or last Thursday breaking up with Prayer Council- i tried. The blog was called 'Cutting Ties'. 90% good 10%bullshit. The subject. The feeling of it. The truth of it. My life taking a deviation after 8 years of 1/2 living, of skyrocketing spiritual insightness and church stuff. Snip. Snip. Griiiind. Slowly beginning to turn the ship- but i can't pack for it. I don't have money to shop for it. I could start to study korean if i believed i was going. I'm reading a blog. I need to start getting into the korean soaps. But the list stops there in the 'waiting for paperwork' column. Has it been such a long preperation with so little physically to show for it. And the things, just breaking off and into the goodwill bag one agonizing minute at a time since? I've been doing this for months and months.

I'm cutting the roof of my mouth on the nuts in my appleflaxseed muffins. And i still can't articulate anything between the mint gum now and the lifetime movie starring FaithfromBuffy. And nordrack rejecting me, and the CAcreditunion accepting me. What else is there? I was just telling somebody the other day it's the little things in life that are fascinating. Just because it's no longer new to you doesn't mean it's no longer interesting and i'm sure the obsessive running of diagnostic reports, defragmenting, disk cleaning must look like something from the outside. If only i could tell a story about it. Or express the feeling of being stuck. Or on a steep and brutal descent. And how that must draw you inward and deep to a quiet breathing hard and trying not to go shallow kind of place after you've just fallen or slipped and went near to dangling. We're struck in the chest intermittently by a wave of panic or a feeling of wrongness as we walk. We think, what was that. What am i feeling bad about. It strikes fast and we have to chase it down and it takes a while and we think, oh that's right. Right. Ok. And we go back to what we're doing. Shake it off. We breathe a little better.

We relook at the lists, and the calendar, and the balances, the weather, the news, the FB, and we think ok. Check. Reoriented. I haven't forgotten something. It hasn't slipped off like the other pieces of gear in the fall. I still have those things. I'm watching. I'm x-ing off the days feeling half alive with a sinus cough, chronic aches, that the rest must be dreaming. That the rest must not be for the looking. I have only so many things I can take in where I'm at. Not more. Not that. Not those jobs. Or that list. Or that project. Or the words. Not those. It's too much.

m.

m's currants

i'm getting alice's adventures in wonderland sent to me from daily lit.

i love it. do you do this? because i think you must, and love it also. (i wrote this to you around 9am) i never came back. before now. dun dun.

what happened you ask? no nothing like that. nothing, monumental. or yes, exactly like that, it was the ordinary everything that got me. and my obsessive tendencies.

i watered the pots in the backyard. my flipflops getting gradually wet even though at first i pretend i'd rather not, and the sun beating down so that by the end i was hosing the back of my legs and contemplating what it would be like to not have to water so many pots. also my butterfly is still hanging in there. the pin and silk are holding. the colors on his chrysalis look good. i think he might live. my tenuous living thing. speaking of, there is another butterfly limping around. the right wing doesn't quite fold in/out like it should. and ocassionally when i find him i set him on something that he can get nectar from. i hope he makes it. but his life seems more tenuous than the one i saved. and just the other day i saw two wings just laying on the asphalt. and of course i picked them up without a thought, until after when all i imagine now is a bird scissoring through the sky and annihilating the poor life.

it's not quite like getting headbutted by your offspring. which is purely comedic (maybe dark or sardonic depending on the cast and script) but very much like losing 2 jobs in one day. although you know how i'm going to celebrate 3 years of underemployment? i don't know either. but i think it's going to be in korea. that's what i'm thinking. it's going to be epic. otherwise selling gold while cool is vaguely depressing. as my uncle says that i should maybe hang onto a piece or two so that i can barter for food when the economy collapses. i hung onto the tennis bracelet. and the others, it did allowed me to pay for the rest of the passport, mailing cost, and another bill... i asked the guy if he was a coin guy... and he said, he preferred not to be labeled. okay... more on the guy later. oh josh. if you label me you negate me.

after all of that and a jamba juice i couldn't afford, fastforward to today where i leave my obsessive passport photo taking, to find out that i'm a month late to my credit union and they closed my account due to inactivity- after charging me bit by bit the $20 i had in there for not using it. the hell! (yah i knew, no i didn't do a damn thing until i found out citibank was going to charge me $15amonth) anyway, nexxxxt. all i can wonder about now is how to transfer my korean won to my bills in america. you see how my mind is already beginning to click over and i've only had one interview. if this somehow doesn't work out, i will be declaring that thing that michael declared that one episode along while back. and who knows what else. (insanity)

but back to passportphoto'ing: the lighting is a bitch, thank god i had a canvas big enough to be the backdrop, and why can't i get my hair right?! it's so difficile. but let's say that these will be 100% better than the previous 2 i've gotten in my lifetime. despite the haggard appearance i feel i have, all the stray hairs, and i know, i like the 3rd one too, the best, but i'm not quite centered. and so it's the large features of the 1st or the more demure and tossled 2nd look. i ordered both and am picking them up to staple to my passport app. and we must think of all the embossing and shinybusiness and what's going to stand out or fade back. but anyway... this took all day and all night and i finally finished, blah... whatever.

tomorrow is grocery shopping, target (photos), lunch with duff, and staring into space- oh and mustseetv and prorun. hoping also this sinus thing doesn't go the way of the lo.co.

love you pen, and your bruised face.
m.

current state

This about sums it up right here. A bruised smile. I asked for a goodnight hug and K.Lo, in her sweet exuberance, full-on head-slammed me. My teeth jammed through the inside of my lip, summoning a fair amount of blood. This morning I noticed the bruise-stripe under my lip. With a slight pause in the middle, marking individual tooth impacts. Wicked awesome.

Otherwise, what does one even say. I lost my only 2 jobs in one day last week. So that was fun. I lived through a consignment sale experience, although I won’t know if it was worth it until the check comes in the mail. We ate cotton candy down by the river on Saturday. Somehow deliciously apropos. I miraculously made it through not one but two church services and a breakfast on Sunday, with children in tow. And the first two days of this week have been a complete wash. N, K and J are all downforthecount with varying sinus and ear infections. I remain standing. Ferrying children to the doctor, picking up prescriptions and Gatorade, making chicken soup and calling them all in sick. With my bruised smile. While the dust bunnies accumulate and several hundred things are left to-be-done.

dear pen,

the kitten is nestled near my neck and purring. calming my breath. which is necessary in assuring me as i started crying when the chrysalis we'd been protecting that had stupidly hung itself on the trashcan handle was knocked down by one of dads workers. i freaked out and luckily found it not crushed near the mint and then after accidentally dropping it, doing some internet research, pinned it to a stick and put it back in the ivy. dammit. i was like, i can't take it. apparently i do not subscribe to darwins theory of survival of the fittest when it comes to personal encounters. for instance the other day in the park i kept feeding a duck with a limp leg and another one that had a partially missing bill. you can do it duck, you can do it. wahhhhhh. *sniff* you can do it little guy please become a butterfly and don't die. wahhhhhh. it's too much.

the morning started off bad too. weird dreams- something about a production and backstabbings and betrayal and drama and waking up to find my attempt to consolidate balances was denied. and then books i suggested were banned from a reading list. with a weird excuse of 'i've never heard of them'... and!? i suddenly felt censored. well quite literally. and jobless which is perpetual but this time i can actually use the term dire. as i am at the cliff. literally this time and not just heading toward it. and the girl who's organizing the teaching we're doing through october suggested we bring paperplates, napkins, cups and flatware to all of the 5 teachings we're doing as our contribution! are you kidding me!

nevermind it's all too much.
i may just spend the rest of the day sulking.

Pen, Enclosed please find the following recap of Sept. *hugs*

we had just fjorded a major river, come over a hill and stopped to rest. i almost died on this bike ride because i was overheating like a christmas goose. i hear they overheat. and that led me to dousing myself with copious amounts of water before we biked the last stretch home.

faux marble- i was going for general impression and not accurate- they read dirty concrete. i can't please everyone. in only 3 hours over 3 seperate days... being rushed everytime... but what am i going to do for money this month. that's the question.

danica outing...

ah, mom and her bbq'in ways.

curiouser and curiouser

perfect match

new obsession

so frickin delicious.

we wandered here from the basement of our church. whoops.

hello tea.

hello spectacular weather (we don't get a lot so we were impressed, let me tell you)

xoxo,m.