Dear Penelope,

ok, so I lied about the "i don't make" jewelry thing. but who's to say this whole making jewelry for friends will last. certainly it may, but could we go so far as to hope i finally start using that etsy account? i don't know. I can't say. probably not. right now i'm doing "comedy" traffic school online. they put hidden phrases in the material so you can't not read it and there's a timer. though i read fast I still have 12 minutes left on the page. lucky for me the timer keeps running even if i'm on bloggerwritingtoyou.

also i had time to get another glass of icedtea and a handful of chocolate covered almonds, whose healing properties can't be ignored, oh and a plum. earlier today i went to togos and they had dark pink straws. i did infact take it home and am now feeling all mellow from my walk and swim and salad. the girl at 24 said the pool in hollywood was 25yards. is that the same as meters? i still can't fathom this pool being as large as the one in pasadena which is 25m but what if it is? it certainly confirms that certain arrangements of things can become too much, clausterphobic, and definitely not peaceful if is true. i guess i can google it.

the mail came and i got a letter from the EDD. it pays to be unemployed during a major recession apparently. some mysterious extension of benefits came through. i still feel i need to start being more active in my search, but the divebombingdownintodespair regardless doesn't need to start anytime soon. i did mail the guy who told me to email him every couple months and remind him of my existence. he told me to after all. so i did. i feel bad about it still. but i hit send. that's the important thing.

i have 3 to-dos left today:
-meditate
-yardwork
-trafficschool

yesterday when to visit Ijah in the hospital, her dad was there, who makes his whole life about meditating, he was off playing with Musik and when he came back he was tired so he just laid on the ground next to the bed, in a little dark spot i guess. eventually musik made him join her on the bed but the point of it is really- could i be that person? i think i could? who is just so self-possessed to the point of detatchment? that could just lay on the linoleum in the middle of a hospital room. certainly i have a modicum of propriety that might stop me in some ways... but in others i might be quite free. it leaves one to ponder.

otherwise thats my day. there it went. the whole thing. but the sky is blue and there's a breeze so i'm going to logoff of comedytrafficschool and read about traffic infractions and nuns later.

dear m,

I’m beginning to understand what you mean about sailing through the levels of FarmTown. And then sometimes it’s like you don’t have a penny until next harvest and other times, like post-pineapple harvest over at m’s jungle, you have so much money you don’t know what to do with it. I mean, I could save up for a 300,000-coin manor house, OR… I could create a meditation space along one side of my farm with the help of hedges, park benches, a fountain, and animal-shaped topiaries. I mean, whichever. And then maybe I’ll upgrade my lot size—yet again—and build a stone wall flanking the meditation garden, just because I can. In anticipation of what I really want, which is a river. Which will eventually flank two sides of the farm. I have to wait until level 27, really? Really. All riiiiight. I only have 3 more to go.

And I guess they’ll just have to keep adding stuff to buy or whatever because I notice some of my friends are getting so far along in the game, they’re just plowing and cutting their losses, starting over again at Farmville, because there’s like, nothing else to do. No pimped-out palace left to buy. Although don’t we all aspire to the mansion. And the greenhouse. I’m just saying.

Oh, and although I’ve already told you about it, let me mention for our readers the series of death threats I encountered the other day during a harvest. Never again will I hire someone with a name like eVILin or whatever that crazy person’s name was. I mean honestly. You see someone on the news who does something completely unhinged-whacko like go off in a parking lot with a machine gun, and you think, what kind of person DOES that. Well, I met her, in cartoon farmer person. “I’ll kill you, I’ll kill you, etc.” Completely unprovoked! And going on and on until I asked her to leave. And reported her. Because, ick. I mean, maybe in a game like Mafia Wars, if there was an opportunity? But I usually associate FT with happy-go-lucky types. Sheesh.

In the meantime, I await the posting of Grey’s online, so I can actually WATCH it. Though I soaked up every spoiler I could possibly read over the summer, I’m now feeling anxious at any and all FB status allusions to watching and crying one’s face off. Because, um, I wanna watch it immediately! Me too me too. Although frankly it will probably have to wait until tomorrow night at least. Tonight and tomorrow will feature the last of September’s birthday celebrations. Tonight I must dress like a hippie and sing my heart out, and tomorrow possibly some tasty appetizers of the Asian fusion variety. Cheers.

Good day to you madam.

love,

penelope

Dear Penelope,

in addition to the letter, please find the enclosed pictures: you'll note that the presence of the man was elevated from weird guy, to creepy guy, to possible stalker/pedophile and or nude enthusiast. as he kept pacing within 20ft of us, going up toward his bag or down toward the shore, engaging in pumping up and down motions that looked like pushups and various half hearted stretching moves, and was certainly not wearing anything under the towel. he clearly won out over the gladiator model we saw with her buttcheek implants, and 10pack abs, the 4 bikini models and the couple who was stoned and making out intermittently when they could muster the strength, and the chick with the guitar, oh and that group of guys wearing speedos and the asian family. i can't say that i'll come back to this beach. possibly only if i'm ready to absorb and write about the freakish energy surrounding this stretch of sand. excellent views be damned. further down you will see how excellent the view can be.
they did eventually move out of my way so i could get the perfect picture, but still:

anyway, it was a good day. i read the entire omnibus1 of buffythevampireslayer GN, and added that glow back to my already amazingly tan skin. i capped the night off at the malibu ralphs grocery store, where i got fresh carved beef tritip and fresh berries. callie got some tiny package of cuscos for dinner but i can't talk about that in relation to how really wonderful my food was. oh also i got the perfect dress. breaking my creditcard rule of the last few weeks. it was worth it right? i mean if its not i will totally take it back. but can you imagine curly hair- either a bold or subdued necklace and a colorful wrap? i'm just saying. tra la la la la.
right now i'm watching 24. which i've avoided for a long time but thought i'd give it a try. damned catchy suspensful plots. my head is sort of full with other things and with this on i can't manage a sentence. i'm hypnotized. so i'll just enclose the necklaces below. though my favorite quote from hour 5 is: "i've tried so hard to keep the wall up between my work and my family. and now the wall is coming down and i don't know what to do." *snarf*gag* oh and the wife says, "thank god you're here. don't leave me. don't ever leave me again." "i wont."... ha. or: " you know what we should do when this is all over, take that trip up the coast to canada like we always talked about."... haha. god i hope the writing gets better. i might be reading a book whenever i smell dialogue coming on the screen. anywhozille.

this is danica, she's looking skeptical bcs i'm sizing the length and not really showing her what the whole awesomeness is looking like.
this is autumns:

this is julies:this is wendys: i promised her more flowers in the future.

Dear Penelope,

Enclosed please find the pictures of the henna tattoos:

dear m,

Omg, stupid template over at Lo.Co. Stupid sore throat/cold/exhaustion or whatever. Etc.

Positives from today include our trip to the park, though I am always curious, interested, intrigued to encounter other managers that essentially ignore you? I mean, I don’t get the protocol, I suppose. I’m not extroverted enough to announce my cheery presence/identity when there is no clear opening, no smile/similar nonverbal, no…whatever. But I’m also brazen enough at this juncture in my career to just be all (in my head), it’s a free park, a public place, so we’re going to continue with our picnic, thankyouverymuch. And play with your children and maybe even eat one of your crackers. And be perfectly friendly/open should you choose to thaw out a little bit. Not the whole lot of you, just some.

I wanted to continue my NYC tales, in particular my apparent inner Theater Nerd that exists, is alive and well, and may choose to appear at any moment. Like maybe now. I loved the Lion King. It was my first Broadway play, ever, and I confess I’m hungry for more. Part of me has always dissed musicals for their ridiculous/unbelievable element, the breaking into song and perfectly choreographed dance at any given moment. But like… it all defies logic and explanation, right? The point is that it’s fun. It’s energizing. It’s manufactured and mass-produced and possibly even lowbrow. Or not. Because it also requires an enormous amount of talent (which leads me further thought re: talent and fame, and how one does not necessarily dictate/inform the other). Regardless, I’m pondering a future purchase of theater tickets in this state, for reals… details TBD.

Another trip side note: a terrorist cell has recently been partially dismantled, maybe you’ve seen the headlines. And one of the terrorists made several attempts to rent a truck in NYC on Sept 10? And one of the scouted locations on a seized computer was… Fashion Week? Which of course I attended on Sept 12. I’m just saying. It made my hair stand on end a little. Dear Feds: Keep up the good work, on that front. And thank you.

I’m tired. I have to think of a Smartini poll question. I’m not thinking about that ugly, shit-brown rectangle that plagues my beautiful blog about the children. I’m going to bed and maybe read Eat, Pray, Love.

xoxoxo

P.S. Am attending a 70s-style party on Friday and advice is needed re: outfit suggestions. Bohemian, disco, go-go? Please provide details.  

Dear Penelope,

hello you.
its me, mendacious.

how are you? did you read about your shadowbox or did the mere talk cause your eyes to roll back and interrupt your watching of glee- which i like, which likewise i totally get. now if only i could remember that it was on. like how i didn't even know the office was on on thursday. it goes to my surprise i suppose of september as an entity for fall and new tv programming and of change. and how far i am from that now that i may have to go temp or work at borders again or something. i don't know. but certainly something has to begin. though i have to say self employment won't get me any closer to finding a guytolove.

i've had my 2nd sugar free popsicle and realized that this weird throbbing i had going on my head today was because I had not one glass of water but iced tea over the spance of 7 hours. I'm going to leave you right now and go get some.

it really is so good. i'm writing you as i sit here watching netflixwatchnow and killing time before this homegroup potluck/bbq sort of thing. i want to write to you about how vaporub kills toe fungus or complain about the perpetual clean up of the garden after summer. i'm with you about the heat. just doing enough like watering and then leaving everything else to go to pot until the searing baking oppression dies down... and here i am writing about it but you know i can't go on like this. or about the parking ticket thing or the misery that some of my friends are living in breakups and financial insolvency. it all goes to the general atmosphere of things but not really the truth of things. and yet the contemplation of all these little things must add up to a person somehow. you know i've always been a believer in that. the beauty of analysis- for instance the psychology of where people sit in any given place. the possession of public space by certain types of people or facebook and how your page is certainly some, no matter how deceptive, a reflection of you. cathy disagrees but i think i'm right- even to the suspicion of being watched or found out about or being judged. its all there. evasive attitudes, general neutrality of picture, proliferation of inane quizzes etc etc.

my very first bestfriend from preschool, lori, found me on facebook just this morning. i had looked for her before but to no avail and so she added me with this tag, oh my god is it you!? well certainly i am me! even if i wasn't the me to which she was referring but to someuknownother. and that life seems so far from me as i investigate a little bit of her there was nothing on her page to hold onto. and her birthday, i never hang out with aquarians and she is one and the last thing i remember is going to visit her after she got her wisdom teeth out and her trying to eat spagetti, miserable with puffed up chipmunk cheeks in i think 7th grade. i remember fighting with her and making up and parties and sleepovers... that this grownup person who says her mom is going to die knowing i found you... is kind of cool. sort of an archaelogy. i might just meet up with her and explore and marvel and totally load a pic of us when we were 3 in our class. she knew me then. she came close to a sister. and whatever it was but suddenly it ended. it wasn't like a definable breakup when my other childhood friend wendy told me she was trying out for drillteam and was going to be best friends with sarahgraham.

i suppose all of this is surprising bcs i remember so little of my childhood that its fun to just see it bubble up to the surface. like i hadn't dreamed it? it was real- it existed and someway formed me.

anyway its pastdue and i have to go and i think the mayosaucestuff on my burger upset me. i have to get more water and put some pants on and tie the hair up and go. anyway, i'm here. and you're there. and i hope i hear from you soon.

m.

Dear Penelope,

its the end of the shadow boxes besides maybe one for myself, which is almost an impossible task- i thought i told you about yours in all its symbolic mystery? perhaps not. patently its a juxtaposition of you. Your two natures. Lets start there. You see the figure on the top has scissors. Looking innocent possibly but up to mischief. The one below in white sits innocently by with an umbrella, prepared perhaps for whatever may come. Lets leave them for a moment though. The wood around the border is real and made up of various types. I thought of your logcabin. Your need for naturalness and symmtry. The lines in the paper curtain are an expression of that as well. Something clean and harmonious and light and pure. Ordered but fresh. This shadow box is after all a room. Beyond it is the inscruitable other of everything. If I had felt content to just represent the outside of you I would have emphasized this background aspect, would have left it clean and simply beautiful. But the representation of how I saw the internal you was much more vibrant and playful. and certainly full of magic. So back to the mischief. The events you must expand on but I can tell you the mishievious figure cut the daisy chain, which may or may not have broken out into a bit of a fire, which caused the bolt to fly into the glass that contained what appears to be a peach pit but may be something much more. It broke the glass and set the fish free (a nod to my pisces friend and her contemplation of all things aquatic, in the undulating currents and waves, and the flitting indecisiveness of how fish move, but purposeful, but directed and instinctual) Note their bright exuberant colors. And you see how the girl in white bears the calamity with such reserve and patience, possibly a tiny bit worried at the events beyond her but so solid and resolute and prepared so that no blue stuff should get upon her person. And upsprings from the broken bottle this epic figure. She alights herself upon the inkbottle at her foot and catches the bolt and fixes everything in the place it was seen hurdling from. But you see the antique autocar light isn't on, the latin inscription on the wine cork from which the light is hung is: 'let your light shine'... the internal you, never cease or stop, but continue on in this sparkling and vibrant way forever more. And it bears with the latin phrase "in omnia paratus": ready for anything/allthings...and remember rori jumping off that platform with an umbrella and being in a strange secret society? that investigative watchful side of you, the being pushed into adventure side of you, wary but secretly delighted by shenanigans... come what may sort of thing? Which is why this epic figure and all the blue seem strangely out of place in their surroundings and that its not quite right because you see, she doesn't exist in the ordinary place of things and she goes on living and breathing within you no matter how quieted down you become or however or whatever it is you find yourself doing, there she'll be. And the world now that the daisy chain has been cut will never be set quite aright again, but I think it'll be better for it, certainly more lively.

m.

dear m,

I realize that as the summer progressed, my enthusiasm for the garden developed an inversely proportional relationship to the temperature outside. As usual. However, a few weeks ago, we planted our late summer salad bed, and I wanted to share a picture, lest you think I don’t care about home-grown veggies anymore. I do. This is a pretty low-maintenance plot of radishes, carrots, and lettuce, and as you can see, it’s taking off. I have to buy some bug spray for the leaves… something effective but hopefully not too toxic? Still working to resolve this issue. In the meantime, it grows. And the temperature slowly retreats, creating a directly proportional relationship to my happiness. I would draw some graphs to further illustrate the point, but it all seems a bit much. Hope you are well. The blog misses you.

love,

penelope

Dear Penelope,

Enclosed above please find a picture of : Cath's shadow box. Its noisy yes? There was an added challenge of taking elements from her life and incorporating them. I think, though slightly hidden i am totally pleased with the story of this box. And it is quite mythical and universally seeking. We can't all have such lauded fates. The girl in the green has undergone quite a lot of peril to see that the ship (in the center of the box) which is her soul, launches and makes it across to the empty bird nest (which is from my yard and from a grapefruit tree). The box itself lives in opposition. The left side is spiritually peaceful and at rest, there is a hidden archangel michael and the girl in the green that is on the rail is saint catherine, who was a mystic. 'They might be giants' lyrics are "birdhouse in your soul"... on the right side is jezebel worshipping her false god and you see the snake entwined upon the disembodied arm, as in the middle top eve desceneds safe in Gods hand... everything surrounding the green girl with the luscious red lips is hemming her in. IN the middle one might see the beads as the course of the universe surrounding the ship amongst much debris and noise and personal mementos- still the theme is the course of the soul as it moves from a point of chaos and evil to a point of good and peace. One may hope it is the course of anylife and of Cathys.

dear m,

My horoscope for today claims:

Plenty of interesting developments could be popping up in your life today, but you might feel like you don't really have the energy to deal with everything right now. You may even find yourself wishing that you could just escape all your responsibilities for the day, but you should eventually expect to be well-rewarded for all your efforts.

So true.

I only had energy to copy/paste.

Emails, more misadventure recaps soon.

yawn,

pen

dear m,

We totally spied Iss-May Ay-Jay from ANTM at Fashion Week. Mel’s sister wrangled tickets to a Saturday afternoon show, so exciting; none of us had ever been to anything like it. Thumping music, cool outfits, flashing cameras and fashion moxie. Luckily, it didn’t matter what we (I) wore, what with the zillions of people and all, even though I clearly was not even remotely trendy in my rainy-day hair, Old Navy jeans, well-worn T-shirt, Doc Martens, and parka. Oh, and the happy-faced plastic bag holding my half-eaten sandwich, which is another letter entirely. I was going for too cool to care, and obviously, I was.

Generally, pictures were difficult to capture. I would have needed a more expensive camera. However, here is some of the scene.

runway

totally yucky pic of me, but Mel looks cute

literal wall of cameras to the left…creeeeepy!

Iss-May Ay-Jay 1

Iss-May Ay-Jay 2

 

models

models (they all came out looking like a beacon of light)

and more models…

dear m,

The uvula statue is insane, and I love that you quested 7 or so years for it. Next year, we are meeting up somewhere fabulous, whether it be Chi or elsewhere. We’re making it happen.

I don’t know what I’ll do in NYC. Possibly stand on the sidewalk a lot and stare up at the tall, tall buildings. Surely there will be a museum in there. Obviously a cute baby of the nephew variety. I can’t wait.

Being ruled by the moon and sensitivo, I feel like the horoscope I read the other day about the moon all of a sudden entering Pisces was for real. The effects, I mean. I could feel them immediately. Or maybe it was the power of suggestion, but still. There’s something different in the air this month, and it’s not just the cool. Which has gone away briefly, but hopefully will return soon, because the no-a/c thing was such a tease. Anyway, between NYC and some other celebrations, including a 40th b-day party at the end of the month that will feature a backyard screening of Mamma Mia!, I feel like…somehow I’m experiencing some sort of celebration of life. It’s good.

And I await good TV. Most expectantly. ANTM, Vampire Diaries, and Glee (re)appear this week. You know I had to put that in here.

Did you know, too, the story behind the two fish of Pisces? They are two possible paths. One represents swimming against the stream, i.e. making your dreams a reality. The other is  moving with the stream, engaging in a lifetime of daydreams. Either way, there is dreaming, which I love. But I’m kind of wondering: which fish am I. I feel like it is the latter, mostly.

Your b-day package is for real all packed and ready to send; it’s now a matter of a post office visit.

I drank three glasses of lemonade throughout the day today, all spiked with vodka, the last punctuated with raspberries. I could use another, really, but it’s late. Will I go there? Football has finally been turned off, and it’s my turn. I’m watching the tail end of Iron Chef America and then who knows what.

Still I feel like the Art Institute should have recognized you and allowed free entrance. All museums should be donation-only, anyway. Because a lot of poor saps such as myself might donate $5 and under, while others will feel inclined to drop a $50 in the glass box, just because.

Wandered over into the cartoonish knockoff of Farm Town today. They call it Farmville, and whatever. I’ll do both, I guess, since my husband was traitorous to my Farm Town cause. You get money from your animals there, but there’s no marketplace. But everything loads faster. The looks to choose from are more plentiful, but all the characters’ eyes are dead and doll-like. Trade-offs.

Also, I nearly had a panic attack sorting through “other” requests on Facebook. Apparently they max out at 100, while I had been operating under the assumption for nearly 2 years now that if you ignore them (without pressing any buttons), then they will go away. Not so, not so. I guess they do expire after awhile because all total I probably only sorted through a couple hundred, but still. Who knew there was this whole other aspect of of FB that some are apparently obsessed with. I mean honestly, applications I’ve never heard of before, all used by the same person. He used them all. And I thought my virtual farming obsession was a problem.

I’m feeding my pet mosquito again. I don’t love her very much. Did you know the only ones who bite are girls?

love, pen

Dear Penelope,

i leave on saturday and i doubt i'll be adjusted to the 2 hours ahead. It makes the day go fast. No sooner have i stumbled out of bed and an hour on the train and the day is over. This is an expectionally mellow trip. i'm up late in chitown waiting for my henna tattoo to dry. Rekindled my love of chicago beef, as if there was any doubt on how well they do skirt steak. Went to devon street and they looked at my eyebrows and said, thread? I backed out slowly shaking my head clutching the dye. No, i said. This also lead to a contemplation of the burka and if there were many hardcore muslims running around LA. Maybe? All I can think of is the Hassidic Jews. But there were a lot of scarf wearing lasses in the area and a couple burkas that made me wonder. i thought in LA i'd have to go really far- our diverse neighborhoods though polorized are not nearly so so polorized with a few expections- either way they're an hour out from the barrio i live in.

Today was an epic feast day- first a swedish place called Svea for some good eggs and potatos followed by indian food @ Tikken in keeping with the theme then to Weber Grill. Yesterday the highlight was superior skirt steak followed by homemade chocolate ice cream called Zanzibar. Love-eet. Also a show at the planetarium and lunch with Misty and contemplation of the universe and how it seems recently discovery has lead back to humility, back to the universe being an inscrutible mystery. It's like we reached this apex of knowledge and tipped back to ignorance and that makes me happy. I also made it out to oak park and 'operation uvula' was a success. It makes me laugh i love it so. I need to enclose a pic in my next letter, along with my new tattoo.

Tomorrow I'm going to SAIC, meeting with Jerami, and then to Greektown and the Jazzfest. I cannot possibly hit all my favorite eateries or do all my favorite things. Though in the space of a short trip it seems a perfect balance of hanging out and adventuring. Plus the weather is a marvelously temperate 7o something. I went to bed with that feeling of being damp though like i was by the beach. A good comparison to how really dry it is in CA, which apparently is still on fire.

The day before I left I went swimming which was good and Kerry came along and we nearly drowned ourselves laughing because we realized that we were competing stroke for stroke to the end of the lane, just as we had minutes before mocked these 2 guys doing the very same thing. We glanced up and nearly choked with the image. Of course after that, Kerry being 1/2 my size was under enormous pressure to lap me 3x over, since there's no way she should be as slow as I was. We went to CPK after and it was ridiculously late, applauded some firefighters on their way out, made me think of when i accidentally tear up when i hear the national anthem.

Aside from that the plane trip took as long to get here as it did to Guatemala. And I was still surprised they confiscate water. I think i used the words perpetual state of crisis and Cathy thinks big words fly out of my mouth when i'm under stress. Sort of like when foreigners can't hide their accents when they're angry. I used the word nomenclature the other day and though i was right and positive of the context i couldn't have defined it for you.

Other than that, Cath and I wander. I myself wander. I complain ad nauseum about my knee. At one point tonight I realized standing and talking to Cath's friend Jane that the entire right side of my right leg and quad had gone numb. That can't be a good sign?... Why is my right leg so angry? I tire myself out with my looped complaining but I hate transitions- like my transition away from wheat. Today I was mostly vigilant but I still broke down and had a $1 sized piece of naan and my skirt steak today was in fact drenched in soysauce marinade. Whatevs. I think I find the negotiatons of the new to be exhausting- seeking out elevators to baby my knee, seeking out new things to baby my body... this tenderness I don't like- the necessary high maintenance attitude of care and consideration.

Anyway, its dry now.
My love,
M.