Holy Hell,

I'm in a mental fog.

I've tipped my frozen coffee upside down so that when it thaws i can mash it up in this big plastic cup.  A haze of maybe trying to digest meat, the curse, and the warmth out has me absolutely knackered. The other day, out of a need to be productive, i even gave myself bangs. The hair is in that weird notshortnotlong phase. And i had to stop myself from hacking it all off. Just to do something. I need to actually go for a long run or? wait, rephrase walk/jog or something. And stop watching reruns of Monk, gaining a pound losing a pound, and I'm on the last chapter of Gears. And I can't beat it yet. That's what I get for playing on "hardcore" mode. Oh life. I can fit into the ring my grandmother gave me. So there's that. (17 years later)

Otherwise I fixed the yellow streak problem so now its a blue streak problem with the floor, but we're going to leave it like the watery dream it is. I painted my nails, cleaned out a hutch and moved it into the car using a series of bells, whistles and levers. I stopped short of actually taking it over to the other house. And yet I daily accuse myself of doing and accomplishing nothing but that when i list things, like washed dishes, moved the silver and linens it seems something must've been done.  And yes, last night i checked the oven twice- twice mind you, literally to see if i left anything- and sure enough- the smurf. As my mom pointed out, I caught it right as it was collapsing and changing from a plastic to a liquid state- and yes, it smelled super awesome. For hours. And while I almost decided to continue cooking the pizza i decided plastic infused pizza was less stellar than i thought.

So you see shit like this can happen at anytime. Something to consider. But i understand you're being pushed to the edge, and i can feel it around me too when i think of the bills coming in July. Yes, I can charge them but I'd prefer God point the way to some employ. But the feeling is trapped, and it's terror, and it makes me not want to slow but keep going and GO. But there is something to staring at stuff until you can grab a thread and just pull, and the next thing breaks lose and unravels. Yes, indeed. And to worship. The things God has pointed the way for you to do. The things that you love to do. And then my next prayer, give me the desire to worship- when i just sit there and can't quite find the energy to do anything at all. Did i tell you the other day i was making iced tea into a pitcher and it cracked it right in lateral half. That was lame.

Oh about ProRun- jlo i assume knows about programs that keep people from spying on you- and you can go to either piratebay or isohunt- even if you dont have that thing it utilizes utorrent which you can download-- now if you don't want to go through all of that shenaniganism it's quite easy-- http://www.free-tv-video-online.me/  now it's a pop-up minefield but once you navigate that you're home free friend. I think though even pro/run has a streaming thing on lifetime so you've got options.

Allright i'm going to go open a window and let the breeze in. Play some more and look for a thread to pull.

xo,m.

and my comp has crashed like 3x trying to load photos and post this. sob.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Over here in Left-Field,

The dulcet tones of Gears of War 3 on pause is playing the background. No really it's quite soothing. Like, aw, it's bedtime, or going up in a really classy non-musak elevator that leads you to some haunted desolate place of yore. Yesterday I played through a chapter where my character's BF dies. I totally started crying. It was all sorts of traumatic. The story was definitely pointing you in that direction but you just still hate to see it happen. You want them to make it. It's rough being a remnant of civilization still trying to hangon against these creatures... but you have a leering suspicion that the monster was you. It was you all along. It's a story long told- not unlike Forbidden Planet, and the Heart of Darkness-- the thing that we are fighting and the thing that is destroying us, from within and without the earth is our own creation. I also got to fight zombies- they added a twist like nuclear radiation type- that glow and explode. Good times.

It's the fall of man, and hard to be our own legislators of the good and designating what is of the bad. The game will just be silly if there's no redemption song. This whole thing makes me want to listen to Johnny Cash.

Nevermind.

Hours have past/passed. Like no longer exist. Like going by. Since this paragraph.

I'm alternating between water and coffee. It's the 2nd day in a row that i thought i'm too exhausted after THIS conversation to go to homedepot/tj's/and ralphs. Trifecta of shopping efficiency. Not that the conversations themselves were bad. But there was something taxing- like when you're fighting to articulate, to come to a common ground- to get them to see what you're saying.  And they're screaming sub-text at you. I told one person about the marriage things- keep in mind she's been married for a long long time- and she was like don't get your hopes up- or something horrible to that effect after i listed #7 for her- as if i was a. making this up or reading too much into it? or b. that it could mean anything. be about anything. I was like, well, clearly it's about marriage- As you know for the record my friend on Jeju sent this to me saying she loved it so much i had to read it- without knowing about #1-6. She said she had in mind to send this to me a couple months ago- and that further kerry said i was literally 4th in bringing up the book to her within 2 weeks. I explained it was not my fault. 

 

I guess i have more books to read now besides Parade's End. Which is rather bleak at the outset. Not knowing what's coming besides the war, which England was particularly heavily traumatized by, and bleak enough without illustrating the individual will struggling. And anyway, at least i have other friends whom are used to God working miraculously and are expectant, like I am, about what on earth God is up to- even if it doesn't end in me married. We're having fun over here in parts of LA about the humor and unmistakableness of SIGNS... i mean seriously. WHAT THE WHAT.

 

Other than that watching Thorne and Pippa just reminded me how horribly selfish i am and how i wanted to get back to my projects, though there was repeated mostly adorable behavior of these young human beings- for instance Pippa had a rough go at one point friday night, and was totally PTS about saturday night and Thorne came in exclaiming how loud she was, crying. I said, do you want to sing to her? Just as a suggest. And suddenly she started singing 'rock abye...' which by the way- totally bleak as a song- and i cut her off like a door slam and said, no sing that song you were singing all day- 'to God be the Glory- cuz every 4 1/2 year old goes around singing hymns and insisting on listening to songs that are "beautiful" like classical music!? so She starts singing and Pippa immediately stops, calms down, and within 1 minute was snoring on my shoulder. Thorne turned to leave and said, if she starts crying again, I'll come in and sing again, ok? OK.

 

In another letter i'll go on about the weekend blowbyblows. But for now, here are a few photos of more in progress nonsense-- 

oh ps #2



#5

 

carryON: Note the canvas to the left and paint box ready to go, the mantel will be totally cleared, and on the right Joanna's bench, the cross mom made me that she thought was "me" and my awesome statue of st. francis.

 here next to the couch is my grand-dads old navy chest. or rather army he was in- and the bottom is army green but now it's a navy chest. i dont understand. some old hiking clothes and shoes of his are in there too- and the original ship to, label.

 here we are with "teal forest"... i went with the green tint over a blue tint... then i'm going to intro black stone floor, a greenish stone shower stall and possibly a twist of ? for the counter top-- uncertain. the walls will be a moss color of some kind.

 ah the space to paint... literally moving each of these plants exhausted me and the roots of this one on the table were weaving through the wood planks...

 still not quite clear but close.

 before the powerwasher broke? uncertain-- but my what a difference.

 followed by a lovely teak oil SOAK. ah luxury. this bench above is now at the parents. the long bench is under the tv.

 

 

 

 

 

m.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 



 

 

 

 

Penolin,

Hey you.

My heel pain is acting up (brief internet search, name, suggestions to abate issue, cursing the Fall due to constant maintenance of body/space/time, stagnating weightscale) but Danica and I walked our 2.19 miles and capped the morning off with tea. I went home and unbirthdaypacked my tea gear and put it in a lovely wood box to honor it and make it easily accessible. I then found the strength to get rid of/integrate an entire large box of stuff i moved home from chi with. . . 7 years later. Hey, i know letting go is a process. Like the pair of thick flannel pants my mom made me. I probably won't ever be regularly cold enough to wear them again. And that tambourine i wrote morbid poetry all over... and that pretty glistening gift box that i'll never use. All in give away. (And today I even practiced going through facebook without multi-tasking with music and or various programming going on in the background.) What else was in the box you ask? um, Towels. Totally important obviously. A bottle of vodka and various kitchen supplies. I sorted through 2 other boxes but decided to keep those intact due to the now legend 'rental move out date (circa non-specified). Mostly so that I'm left with stuff and don't cry if mom takes her rightfully owned bottle of cinnamon and I even have my own flatware. It's not like i'm suddenly going to be able to go nuts and buy new everything. And should i? I might need to buy more for parities? uh, but still. So you know- p.r.o.g.r.e.s.s. Also I have a bag of stuff I'm going to use for project 'mega shadow-box' if i ever get to it. And sure there's like those boxes in the attic. Which really have got to uh, go... one of these.days. Maybe.



And now that you ask, no, i don't understand the copious amounts of spice to necessitate a drawer. Since fresh is best. And mom will hopefully forgive my allocation of the drawer to our gum supply. We'll see. It might be a coup. And of course something has to go in the space where the big box was.


Besides all that, and in itself, this act, really important to not sitting listless and defeated, doing work, work that wants doing and makes me happy. And that even the great mendacious can improve on what she excels at. I even emailed the EDD and was like oh hey, missing claimform etc. Whatevs. And shaking my head that panicking for 2wks (latent) was the standard MO for me for.sommmme reason? Why? Some things i can't explain. But i've been developing a little hope that the working of me will find its way out. The paralyzed jobsearch. The artistic quandaries. Lack of husband. Missing tiles. And for now picking flowers. and doing the things I can do. Even if they seem ridiculous or shortsighted or not enough.

Also, love the ponderance of coincidence v. providence. I don't think its lack of faith. Maybe its best expressed as faith at work in you? The fact that you go from one to the other. That you see after a healthy dose of emotional reaction/skepticism/oblivious and render a more solid and hopeful view of all things working towards Gods glory, which in itself is unfathomable anyway. Because we can see perfect timing, the web, the correlation of events, working against us too, and yet, we come out ok anyway. The whatever it is, resolves itself, and we see the good and trust and all of it strengthing us against the dark and time... and i don't know. On all of that, on a very simple note, it allows God to work. If there were no chinks, you wouldn't have to be shown anything. You'd be looking and you wouldn't see. There is something to eyes that see, and ears that hear even if there is a delay. Something about blessed are the forgetful... for they are constantly surprised at the awesome? ;)



Whozizzle, so before I go back to watching x-files/s8/ep19 and the 3 remaining strawberries and pondering what else to do in the 'closet' and various drawers, here is a pick of ash and me. Hello us. I recognized her right away. And felt completely comfortable. I felt bad i made her talk so much and that i stuck her back in the car. But if her only experience of the beach was the LBC i'd die. Steve totally agreed with me (d's husband). But still. I mean i hope the margaritas and the beach were worth it, but you know. And ash was totally mellow and let me ask her everything with an air as if we'd had these sorts of conversations before, yes on our blogs, seperately, but never together. and that was lovely. And i bit my tongue about her needing to get her passport until she brought it up. And I can't wait to see her go.go.go. And look at that cool owl pendent she has there. Pretty fab. Anyway a definite success. I can't say that the blogging world for whatever anyone has said about it, has let me down, if all i ever did was meet ashley would be enough. And you and I and our letters. And my friends that you now know and the mysterious kurt, we talked about him too. These things are real even if they are just letters now worn away on my keyboard, they add up to something, a definitive impression, a care and concern beyond a blip and IPaddress, and that's beautiful.

to wayfarers,
m.