a windstorm is brewing outside and finding its way inside our drafty house. murder she wrote is on, set in australia this time, a perfect compliment to a dark and somewhat ominous exterior. she's come to see if she's a distant niece of a departed so and so. it doesn't seem like this scenario would ever happen to me unfortunately as I have too many cousins wandering about to be the last line of anyone though i'm at the last line of me, but anyway i hope never to run into a deadbody although i often wonder in what scenario would that ever happen. nor do i want anyone i know to be murdered or disappear or die really. i found myself weeping at about 5 spots in toystory3 as if it was the most heart rending thing i'd seen since deadpoets society, and no one died it was just tinged with loss. but nevermind. as you say mortality, the shadowland seems to hover perpetually on the periphery of us sensitive souls. and why some glimpse more of death than others sometimes seems more a matter of design than randomstance- i wonder. even though we can scarcely grasp that death comes for us all. and yet still it doesn't make life a culmination to tragedy. i had a good conversation with my cousin on tuesday all about whether common sense was culturally learned aka inherited by judeo-christian beliefs the country was founded on or if it was "innate" and encouraged or just simply learned... of course right as we left my cousin was about to tell me about the strange occurance that happened to him that one time after his friend had died but it was too weird to be talked about- my specialty i assured him- but he slipped off the hook and into his car. and then mom came home to tell me that she saw a kid open a lid off a type of sucker, lick it and replace it! mom told him that you shouldn't do such things and he said, but i didn't like the taste... obviously not understanding the point. common sense indeed. the mom didn't understand either with the other 4 kids at her heels and the various gluttonous sampling they were doing of the bins. i mean sure, ok, a bite right? we've all been there. i mean whole foods leaves open bits of things as well as costco, but where's the line? when they don't even know the law let alone the spirit.
onto other small matters,
dad is on a rant about me taking all the purple popsicles, which is untrue. they are the most delicious, and there simply never enough. . . and though the day seemed to spin i managed to finish all the necklaces. last of the last of the last... except for a couple more oneoffs here and there.
i woke up still smelling like garlic no matter how much flossing, gargling and brushing and chewing i did of a mint and stringent variety. and i paid that bogus $50 fine- cash mind you. that hurt.
i'm currently pondering if i should cut my hair or maybe just go crazy with layers? as i haven't dyed it lately. anyway tomorrow i yoga and thats about it on my list. resenting my sideburn hair thats for sure. what else. what else. reading aloud the IR 'mysterious benedict society'with mom... pillows... my unbudging waist line...
(que staring into space 20min)
night.
m.
Showing posts with label epiphany. Show all posts
Showing posts with label epiphany. Show all posts
Wednesday, December 29, 2010
Monday, January 8, 2007
An Epiphany's Tale
Epiphany: 1 capitalized : January 6 observed as a church festival in commemoration of the coming of the Magi as the first manifestation of Christ to the Gentiles or in the Eastern Church in commemoration of the baptism of Christ : an appearance or manifestation especially of a divine being (1) : a usually sudden manifestation or perception of the essential nature or meaning of something (2) : an intuitive grasp of reality through something (as an event) usually simple and striking (3) : an illuminating discovery, realization, or disclosure b : a revealing scene or moment ...
On the day of Epiphany the light in my room went out. Or rather when i came in, the flick of the switch produced a loud pop and short from the lightbulb and i stood in the dark wondering why today of all days, let alone ever, must my light periodically and probably dangerously cease to be. I have auxillary lights but they don't satisfy, and by what happened to me later i took it as a significant harbinger of what was to come- not unlike poor tess of the d'ubervilles when a crow kaws and a flagarant air of doom possesses the entire novel, and poor tess walks on oblivious. As did i, but so far i have a much happier and redemptive end then homicide.
The next day went on as Sundays should. Late, fashion crisis, reluctantly tread I to church. I sit and listen to the service in the lobby. He's talking about the problems we have adjusting to being 'adopted' into God's family- but people are coming and going, and at one point i'm pretty sure my director/slash/pastor is crying or 'choked up' bcs he's talking about his beautiful adopted daughter and her serious trust and control issues and how in his struggle with this he feels God working. Fairly heart breaking the destructive tests we put people thru in order for us to prove they don't really care, or will when tested, abandon us... I glazed over the rest and it was over, and after some tasty el pollo loco, and a redeux of the mango/aloe dessert of '06, I went to a celebration of Epiphany. Reluctantly.
But sometimes I like to be made to do things. My twisted form of peer pressure. If they say, M, go. Just come. I more than likely will bcs I recognize in most instances I'm completely anti-social. And also now that I have to be in bed by 830 I have an excuse to disappear from most events. But this one, accompanied not only with tea in china cups, and a random assortment of women, and artists at that- stood a woman looking a lot like the blonde bette midler who has a passion for the younger generation- is so intent on being a mentor to us and wanting us to be christ-minded and celebratory all year long (so that it's not about the days endlessly ticking by from monday to friday, thank god for saturday, but that there's more satisfaction in exploring outside the self and your continum boredom with life or days like wed-nes-days) inspired a sentiment in me with words like sharing my abundance and building my community and expressing awkward emotions like affection and love... she passed around a bottle of port and we toasted: 'to the revolution'. O Captian My Captain!! I will kiss your feet and follow you anywhere.
Perhaps warmed by the port and slumping frightfully into the winged back chair of this modern day victorian drawing room my friends and i departed. Feeling blessed by friendship and in communion with all my fellow man, driving over over the hill, the crisp sparkling lights contrasted with night, saying that the other day I looked left and could see the ocean, so clear was the day... I dropped off my friend D to her husbands care, pulling up to her apartment and in the redzone, took an abandoned plant of hers and hopped back in my car to speed tardily home and on my way- so past was I on my appointed slumber hour...
When: the danger chord struck and the key would not do it's work. It stuck sadly out. I jiggled the wheel, checked the gear, flipped the key, shook, shimmyed, hammered... and nothing. I called my mom and dad for idiot proof advice to no avail and then with chagrin trudged back up to my friends apartment, moped in to use the bathroom and told them my car was broken.
I came back out and as true friends do they were also jiggling the wheel, checking the gear, flipping the key, shaking, shimmying, hammering... and nothing. We checked the manual, googled the situation and found quite possibly that my ignition switch was dead and that it was a wide spread ford focus problem, which if you've had this happen you should lodge a complaint immediately. We contemplated getting it out of the redzone but alas no. Or leaving it, but no.
One of the best presents my mom ever gave me was my AAA card. And having utilized it for numerous LA related freeway issues or like when I was 21 and freaking out and late to class how i locked my keys in my car with the engine running... but i digress. They said that, gee, wasn't i lucky to have a $60 free assessment service... sure. okay. The guy shows up pretty frickin quick and within a munite I'm informed that the switch has to be replaced and that it'll be $265. Yes. $265. I have $50 in my bank for the next 2 wks. $3o is for gas. My discovercard is approaching max and I give out a bit of a whine and then a frowny grumbly sound and a big sad pouty face. S says that he will charge it to his card and that I can pay him back. I grumble mainly bcs I hate to impose in such a manner and like most good daughters do, blame their mothers for getting the car in the first place. I call mom and we work out the options, as there is none, and she says she'll write S a check- as the pressure of being indebted to my mom is a much less ominous feeling. It's not my fault she bore me!
I gave S/D a group hug, hopefully thanked them for the cherries and tea and the moral support and the being there part and wended my way home in the now AM hours. SO unbelievably grateful for friends and family and twinging with regret at people who don't have such wonderous things... and overwhelmingly grateful to have made it home, the time, malfunction, and the lack of sleep and the money seemed not to anger me at all.
On the day of Epiphany the light in my room went out. Or rather when i came in, the flick of the switch produced a loud pop and short from the lightbulb and i stood in the dark wondering why today of all days, let alone ever, must my light periodically and probably dangerously cease to be. I have auxillary lights but they don't satisfy, and by what happened to me later i took it as a significant harbinger of what was to come- not unlike poor tess of the d'ubervilles when a crow kaws and a flagarant air of doom possesses the entire novel, and poor tess walks on oblivious. As did i, but so far i have a much happier and redemptive end then homicide.
The next day went on as Sundays should. Late, fashion crisis, reluctantly tread I to church. I sit and listen to the service in the lobby. He's talking about the problems we have adjusting to being 'adopted' into God's family- but people are coming and going, and at one point i'm pretty sure my director/slash/pastor is crying or 'choked up' bcs he's talking about his beautiful adopted daughter and her serious trust and control issues and how in his struggle with this he feels God working. Fairly heart breaking the destructive tests we put people thru in order for us to prove they don't really care, or will when tested, abandon us... I glazed over the rest and it was over, and after some tasty el pollo loco, and a redeux of the mango/aloe dessert of '06, I went to a celebration of Epiphany. Reluctantly.
But sometimes I like to be made to do things. My twisted form of peer pressure. If they say, M, go. Just come. I more than likely will bcs I recognize in most instances I'm completely anti-social. And also now that I have to be in bed by 830 I have an excuse to disappear from most events. But this one, accompanied not only with tea in china cups, and a random assortment of women, and artists at that- stood a woman looking a lot like the blonde bette midler who has a passion for the younger generation- is so intent on being a mentor to us and wanting us to be christ-minded and celebratory all year long (so that it's not about the days endlessly ticking by from monday to friday, thank god for saturday, but that there's more satisfaction in exploring outside the self and your continum boredom with life or days like wed-nes-days) inspired a sentiment in me with words like sharing my abundance and building my community and expressing awkward emotions like affection and love... she passed around a bottle of port and we toasted: 'to the revolution'. O Captian My Captain!! I will kiss your feet and follow you anywhere.
Perhaps warmed by the port and slumping frightfully into the winged back chair of this modern day victorian drawing room my friends and i departed. Feeling blessed by friendship and in communion with all my fellow man, driving over over the hill, the crisp sparkling lights contrasted with night, saying that the other day I looked left and could see the ocean, so clear was the day... I dropped off my friend D to her husbands care, pulling up to her apartment and in the redzone, took an abandoned plant of hers and hopped back in my car to speed tardily home and on my way- so past was I on my appointed slumber hour...
When: the danger chord struck and the key would not do it's work. It stuck sadly out. I jiggled the wheel, checked the gear, flipped the key, shook, shimmyed, hammered... and nothing. I called my mom and dad for idiot proof advice to no avail and then with chagrin trudged back up to my friends apartment, moped in to use the bathroom and told them my car was broken. I came back out and as true friends do they were also jiggling the wheel, checking the gear, flipping the key, shaking, shimmying, hammering... and nothing. We checked the manual, googled the situation and found quite possibly that my ignition switch was dead and that it was a wide spread ford focus problem, which if you've had this happen you should lodge a complaint immediately. We contemplated getting it out of the redzone but alas no. Or leaving it, but no.
One of the best presents my mom ever gave me was my AAA card. And having utilized it for numerous LA related freeway issues or like when I was 21 and freaking out and late to class how i locked my keys in my car with the engine running... but i digress. They said that, gee, wasn't i lucky to have a $60 free assessment service... sure. okay. The guy shows up pretty frickin quick and within a munite I'm informed that the switch has to be replaced and that it'll be $265. Yes. $265. I have $50 in my bank for the next 2 wks. $3o is for gas. My discovercard is approaching max and I give out a bit of a whine and then a frowny grumbly sound and a big sad pouty face. S says that he will charge it to his card and that I can pay him back. I grumble mainly bcs I hate to impose in such a manner and like most good daughters do, blame their mothers for getting the car in the first place. I call mom and we work out the options, as there is none, and she says she'll write S a check- as the pressure of being indebted to my mom is a much less ominous feeling. It's not my fault she bore me!
I gave S/D a group hug, hopefully thanked them for the cherries and tea and the moral support and the being there part and wended my way home in the now AM hours. SO unbelievably grateful for friends and family and twinging with regret at people who don't have such wonderous things... and overwhelmingly grateful to have made it home, the time, malfunction, and the lack of sleep and the money seemed not to anger me at all.
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