Part 3: Playa That Funky Music

Pixie and I ventured out to the middle of the playa to take in more of the art installations during the day after we buried our misunderstanding. Very quickly, we were back to normal, which is how I think a good friendship works. I felt so relieved and much more excited to be a part of this experience with her.

We made our way out to one of the farther points on the playa where Crude Awakening, a 90 foot wooden oil derrick had been constructed and in front of it were nine 30 foot metal statues, weighing seven tons each, in various positions of worship, each representing one of the major world religions. At night they would all spout fire. One from her eyes and hands, another from her head and heart, etc. The whole installation was so powerful with all it said about what was going on in the world today, not to mention the dedication of the artists involved who thought it up and brought it all the way to the desert to begin with.

We rode on after that over to one of our favorite installations of the entire event, the monkey zoetrope called Homouroboros. A tree-like structure whirled in a circle thru power from solar panels and participants peddling stationary bikes around the tree. Then strobe lights would flash and it would look like these monkeys were swinging from branch to branch while a bright green snake wound down from the top, down one of the monkey's arms and fed it an apple and thusly, itself. It was so much fun to just sit there and watch it. Drums would beat and usually there was an art car near by thumping techno, adding to the rave feel, but you could also tell people were just stunned with joy upon seeing it go. You can see a bit more of the artist, Peter Hudson's, previous designs in motion on his site here and watch the zoetrope close-up and in action here.

Wouldn't you know that as soon as we got within perfect-picture range, my camera was suddenly no where to be found. After we left Crude Awakening, I'd thrown my camera back in my bag that was in the basket wired to the back of my bike Pixie had so lovingly secured for me, and neglected to cinch it shut. It wasn't five minutes between its disappearance and my discovery that it wasn't in my possession so we turned around and scanned the dusty ground between the zoetrope and the oil derrick, but we couldn't find it anywhere. Nothing. It was gone.

I wasn't terribly broken up about losing it other than feeling the rest of my trip would remain undocumented. Every single and indescribable photo op would be missed completely. Pixie tried to reassure me that everyone else would take so many pictures and they'd be available afterwards online that I couldn't possibly feel I'd missed out, but there were the personal ones of people I would meet and of course her and Kat and our neighbors, not to mention the ones I'd already taken of our trip down that I was disappointed in losing. She and everyone else tho had the thought that once the camera was on the ground, it'd become MOOP and, therefore, someone had to have picked it up and would have every intention of dropping it off at Lost & Found. We could only hope.

Pixie and I separated shortly after that and went on our own little tours for the rest of the day. About two hours after that tho, our first dust storm began. It lasted for four hours. FOUR, people. Kat and I, luckily, were both around the camp at the time, which was good because our funky little shelter wasn't holding up against the strong winds very well. She, her friend, Dan, and I began holding down the points that had broken free and did our best to re-restrain what we could. When we had it stabilized the best we could manage, they started dancing salsa in the middle of the storm. The neighbors across the street joined them, smiling before they all put on their masks and goggles. Everyone looked like a bunch of happy, dancing aliens. I so wished for my camera right then.

Once our first big storm was finally over, we all cleaned up, dressed our best to impress, and headed out to find some adventure. I tried to find a bit of that on my own for about 90 minutes, but it seemed like I wasn't at the right place at the right time wherever I went. I walkied Kat to find out where she was and met up with her and her two friends trying to find what I had been looking for earlier. Again, we never quite found the thing that would entertain all of us and plant us in one place together. There were multiple dance clubs, a band that most of the playa was there to see who after 45 minutes of being late to go on couldn't hold our interest in waiting there any longer and off we went again, and various visual art installations that came much more alive in the darkness.

I told the group goodbye when I found the need to get down with my bad self and dance for a while. It was a good feeling to let loose and do that all by myself. But I eventually found I needed something more specific and went back to the stage where the band was supposed to have gone on earlier and arrived just as they were finishing their set. Again, never at the right time. But they came back on for an encore so I got a small taste and they were fun and funky and I was happy in my discovery, however fleeting.

That's when I met my first random. Or rather.. he met me. I don't even remember his name, but he was wide-eyed, full of compliments about how beautiful I was and how he had gifts for me.

Tho I naively thought he would go away if I didn't show interest, I felt an obligaton to be nice. We chatted about nothing, danced for a bit, but I wanted to call it a night and he was insistent I stay out with him. He had the resources for me to keep going.. and without expressing any sort of request for those things, they were suddenly in my possession. Hm.. conflict.. what to do?

For a while, I wanted the company and some direction of where to go and what to explore, but I didn't know this person and very quickly he was attached to me tightly and expected me to tag along with him or he'd tag along with me and I just didn't know how to nicely separate myself until finally after a couple of hours of riding around I had to be direct and said I needed to go off alone and explore. He seemed to understand and tried to coerce a concise time for the next day to meet for coffee. I was vague and brief and said sure, maybe.. but not really dedicated to the thought so I could more than likely avoid it.. which I did. I didn't want to make plans with someone I could barely connect with but who was under the impression that a connection was made nonetheless. It threw me a bit.

On my own, I wandered by my own camp, but didn't want to head to bed just yet. I found visuals to distract me and a boy who offered me my own personal frequency with an oddly shaped tuning fork. All he wanted was a smile in return.

And then when I'd given up, was tired and my hip was bothering me with a nasty little ache, a random boy saw me teeter on the verge of zoning out over a film that was depicting wild animals in winter on a screen outside this particular camp and realizing I was the only one watching it at 3:30am, I became self-conscious and continued on my way. He stopped to talk with me and we chatted and walked for over an hour after that, stopping at a trampoline for seating and more chat.

Things like that would happen at any given moment and you'd meet people and possibly never see them again. Tho he had introduced himself as Sparkle, his playa name a close female friend had given him, I had to press for his real name because, really.. Sparkle? His real name was Mark. He was sweet and kind and we had the same sense of humor. I wish I'd have gotten his real contact info but he became like most of the people I met there - a good memory. Nothing wrong with that, of course, but still - sometimes you wish you'd learned more about them.

I went to bed with some vibrant dreams, some techno pulsing in the middle of dawn coming up, and a smile on my face. I'd found my place and a good vibe finally. It was a good feeling.

Part 2: Don't Hate The Playa, Hate The Game

Part 2 of the playa begins on Tuesday morning.. our second day in Black Rock City and Kat and I found ourselves exhausted but smiling. She'd been out til well after sunrise and I turned in just before that, but because of the heat, hadn't been able to sleep much. The tents we'd set up were completely open to the sun's rays that were warming up steadily and exponentially and our little homes were turning into hot little ovens. We thought we could fight it, but by 10am or so, it was nearly unbearable and we were struggling and uncomfortable. Finally, I just gave into the frustration because I wondered how we'd manage the rest of the week if we couldn't even find a reasonable amount of shade in which to sleep.

Over the course of that morning tho, we'd met our neighbors to our right - also from Washington tho more southerly - and chatted with them quite a bit. They took one look at our situation and said they were having none of it. They offered to help us when the sun set later on to construct something tarp-like to cover our tents and provide some relief for the rest of the week. I think Kat and I nearly cried. Until then, they allowed us to share their lovely set up they'd created for shade and some peace and quiet during the hotter afternoon hours. I found myself many times in mid-conversation listening to someone and unable to stay awake at all, nodding into a fast sleep if I allowed myself and trying not to be in their way so not really getting to sleep deeply. Oh for the love of Pete, I thought.. I was just counting the hours til the sun went down.

When the sun began to relinquish its place in the sky, the neighbors along with Kat and I pulled together our collective tarps and fashioned something that looked pretty sturdy and would cover both our tents, since Pixie seemed cool enough in her larger and more covered unit. The neighbors were clearly much more skilled than Kat and I, knotting rope quickly, staking it down and all of a sudden.. we had ourselves a nice little space on the opposite side of their rented Ryder truck. Kat and I just looked at each other and sighed, instantly feeling 20 degrees cooler.

I'm sure many things exciting went on that night. I know Pix and Kat went out.. I, on the other hand, went to frickin sleep. For hours. And hours. But you can't sleep straight thru it all. There is SO much noise I felt only half asleep at times. There's constant oonce-oonce-oonce'ing of the bass from every camp blaring techno and a hum from the city and its new inhabitants cheering every so often all thru the night and into the early morning. Talk would fade in and out and I kept waking thinking I needed to see what was going on, but was literally so sleep-deprived and my head so heavy that I knew it was better to rest. It was early. There would be bigger nights and more of my attention would be required then. Better to pace myself and catch up on the dreaming than wipe myself out right away. And surprisingly, all the surround-sound just became white noise that never bothered me. Being a light sleeper I brought ear plugs.. and then never used them once.

I woke up Wednesday morning at 7am, feeling really good about staying in and heard Kat finishing her all-nighter and cozying up in her tent for a few hours of rest. I didn't hear Pixie rustling around so I thought I'd try to do some exploring on my own while it was cooler and challenged myself to get moving.

Pixie had tricked out my fancy playa bike with pirate tassles and stripes that went oh-so perfectly with the pink asian satin print with which she covered the bike seat so my backside would always have something soft to rest upon. God love her. So once bathed and dressed, I hopped on what would be my main mode of transportation other than my feet and made my first goal of the day to head back to this little coffee camp I found on Tuesday morning at 8:30 and Grasslands, just a few blocks away.

I parked my Bike Of Sassyness and made myself socialize with strangers for the next hour. The coffee was really good - that first day I'd found them they had real cream! - and so was the company. The pattern was to find something you could compliment or observe but really no ice needed to be broken like it would be out in the Real World. You could simply ask someone where they were from and they would happily humor you for a while. It wasn't hard to find things to talk about. There was art sprouting up every day on the playa, you could be a newbie or a long-time veteran.. it was easy conversation. Someone passed around homemade banana bread they'd made, which seemed very decadent after two mornings of Cliff bars and applesauce, and then the chit chat was interrupted by the 'delivery' of the 'newspaper' and the talk changed to the news of the man who burned 'the man' the night before. Truly my favorite little gathering place in the mornings for the cooler part of the day where you could indulge in the surprise breakfast offerings people brought over and would happily share and, at the same time, get your tidbits of playa gossip about this shocking pre-burn - the likes of which no one had ever seen before in all of the 21 years Burning Man has existed.

After coffee, I rode over to discover the far side of the neighborhood around 10:00 and Esplanade and checked each alphabet side street for something new. I thought I would head out into the playa for my own bit of art absorbtion, but was feeling like I wanted company so I went in search of Jumpsuit Boy at his camp to see if he wanted to join. Gladly, he did - but we rode over to Center Camp first so he could get his chai fix and we sat for a while there in the midst of all these people resembling carnies without a carnival.. dancing, sleeping, singing, drumming.. and caught up with ourselves since we don't see each other much back at home in the city.

Boy and I have a smattering of a nice past that was mostly physical and once in a blue moon we might dabble back in that, but it's been years now because a girl like me needs a bit more than that I decided.. and we genuinely like each other so we stay in touch when we can. Of course on the playa it's nice to see a familiar and adorable face and as a veteran burner being his seventh time there, I gleened some observations from him and I'm sure he found some new light from the wide-eyed joy I was feeling.

I tooled around mid-playa with boy for a while longer checking out the Steampunk Treehouse and these life-sized games we found that reminded me of my dad and then we both needed to move on to some other things, said our goodbyes of maybe running into each other again later on in the week, but we never did. I had a feeling we wouldn't.. there were just too many other entertaining diversions.

I was enjoying the random people I'd met, but I hadn't yet felt so comfortable I wanted to be independent all the time. I'm a girl who likes to share experiences and I hadn't spent much time with fair Pixie since we'd arrived. That led to a bit of uncomfy conversations, especially about my mini-meltdown of frustration due to lack of sleep between Monday and Tuesday. The playa is a very special place for Pixie and being new, and.. well, me, I was feeling the need for a bit of hand-holding and introduction that was probably more than she could offer. This was a big playground for her, rather magical, as it was becoming that way for Kat and I too, but she knew it better than we did and wanted to be out in it every second she could. I just missed her and wasn't explaining that in a way that didn't sound like I wouldn't be holding her back somehow. And sometimes friends tiff. Traveling together and extreme situations certainly bring out those qualities you overlook for the ones you adore during normal times and tho I prepared Pixie for the grumbling she might hear from me as I got used to the conditions, it didn't mean she liked it.

Thank God I'm a talker and a persistent little thing at that.. so I pushed a little and she would push back and we did that for a while until we eventually cleared the misunderstandings for good. And we found that tho we do and see things differently, our friendship remains solid. It's hard to have disagreements with the people you love, but we found a good balance of time together and time apart after that and maybe a little more understanding and respect for each other.

I love when love sort of wiggles into things and doesn't let go. It was so prevalent in everything out there that you couldn't help but notice, breathe it in, and hope it stayed with you when you left. So far, it has.

The Journey To Black Rock City - Where To Begin?

I've been thinking all weekend about where to begin my story about our three-girl road trip to Black Rock City, Nevada. It's difficult to pick a starting point because once we arrived it seemed things were happening all at once. Wherever we were things were going on, music was being played, people were dancing, everyone was saying hello to us and a smile would be shared with a knowing look that we were all about to experience something very special.

It took two days of driving 8 hours each leg and near the end of the first day, we started to see other burners on their way as well. We stopped for the night at a Best Western in La Pine, California knowing this would be the last night for seven days where we'd have a shower and a good night's rest after dining on real food. And tho it was obvious what conditions we were headed into, Kat and I really didn't register how big that change would be until we were in the middle of the desert for a couple of days munching on various trail mixes and 'bathing' with our baby wipes.

The second day was a beautiful drive. We received well wishes from the girl at the coffee stand, the grocery clerks and gas station attendants alike. More and more burners were converging on the same roads, making the final stop for water, everyone smiling and nodding knowing we were all headed for the same destination.

Pixie and Kat were both driving carefully. You didn't want to give the police a reason to stop you so they were extra respectful of the speed and besides that, once we finally started to see the line in, it wasn't moving fast anyway. All kinds of hurry up and wait - and an effort not to kick up too much dust, which was impossible.

I had heard stories about them pulling out the Burning Man virgins, stripping them down and spanking them in front of everyone else in line.. but Pixie assured me that practice had long been thrown out due to more respectful ways of welcoming the newbies. But when we finally got to our place at the front of the gate, our gatekeeper informed us the reason our line had gone particularly slow - and it really had - was because it was Make-Out Monday and he was kissing all the pretty girls. This was also true. And with that he pronounced he needed to continue on with that job and looked at Pixie expectantly who effortlessly and immediately claimed her non-singledom and oh how she couldn't possibly due to the shiny ring on her finger, but her passenger, ME, would be happy to oblige..... um.... I just want to state for the record that not only was I NOT happy to oblige, but I remember seeing a black tooth in his mouth. And I think other crooked teeth. And he smelled. Um... yeah. You do the math. The answer is ew no matter how you add it up.

So I hesitated.. like anyone would, thank you, and Pixie had to say that the man wasn't kidding.. which he agreed to with a nod. And I leaned in and closed my eyes - and held my breath. I think there was only a peck because he wasn't giving much back and then he blamed it on me and I had to really kiss him again. Whatever. I kissed the guy.. I don't want to talk about it further. It was ugly. I then chastised our fair Pixie after that and told her the rest of the black-toothed smelly guys demanding kisses were going to be up to her to appease and that was that. She just sat there grinning silently.

And shockingly, we still weren't actually in yet. We drove a bit further up and another guy announced to me that I needed to get out of the car. My thinking was that Kat, who was in the car behind us, had said she was with us and mistakenly slipped that she and I were both Burning Man virgins. But it was nothing horrible. They just made us get down and make playa angels. Screw the pristine and clean clothing you came in. Get down on the dirt and roll around in it, basically.. and so a few of us were out there doing this, were handed a crow bar thing of sorts and clanged a rusty bell, officially ringing ourselves into our first year of Burning Man. We drove thru the gate and I looked at Pixie beaming. We had arrived.

Then it was just a slow drive trying to figure out where friends of Pixie's might be so we could camp near them, but it wasn't working so we found our own space on the playa, which is set up on a grid like a clock with the times being the main streets connected to the Esplanade at the top where the letters going alphabetically started, which were the cross streets. We settled in on the fringe outside and away from the center because those areas were all reserved for the theme camps and found that 7:30 and Jungle (actually more like 7:25.. you didn't want to be late, we kept saying) seemed a perfect little spot to call home for the next week.

For the next hour or so, we got to work setting up our site. I don't know about the other girls, but every few minutes, I would get a massive head rush due to the heat or the elevation change, I wasn't sure which, and had to pause every now and then. Pixie or Kat would shove a bottle of water in my hand and tell me to drink and it sometimes seemed a bit dramatic, but with three tents and all our gear to set up camp and the heat streaming down unrelentingly, we needed to keep going.

Tho we all tired out very quickly, we eventually finished and there were high fives all around. So after setting up our own individual spaces and changing a bit, we headed out onto the playa to see what we could find. We set out on foot because we hadn't yet found Kat's friends who were bringing a bike for her and at least Kat and I didn't take into account how much walking we would be doing that night. The playa is five square miles and between the time we started our evening introduction to this adventure to the point we both finally crashed, we'd walked across most of the playa TWICE. I thought I was just exaggerating when I'd said it, but we really had walked closed to 10 miles on our first night there. Um yeah.. ow.

The three of us started out together, but it was clear the distractions that were arranged were made for pulling you in many directions and after a little while of doing her best to stay with us, finding the God phone and the dome where 'God' was actually manning the calls coming in from said phone, Pixie became a bit antsy and needed to wander off on her own little tour. This was her fourth year at Burning Man and she needed some time alone to regain her own feeling of coming home on her first night out.

Kat and I explored the sights on the Esplanade, the main road, met all kinds of people hosting different camps, some not yet completely set up yet like the DeathGuild's Thunderdome, proudly touting their history of 'Bringing senseless violence to the playa since 1999' and Dance Dance Immolation, which is Dance Dance Revolution - but with flame throwers. Pointed at you. No, I'm not kidding.

We were actually early, arriving on Monday night as most of the event really didn't get going until Wednesday usually, however, this year there was a lunar eclipse at 2am Tuesday morning, and we heard that there was more than the average population for a Monday because everyone wanted to be there to witness the eclipse from the playa. This, of course, was stunning to see, darkening the playa for hours and changing shape every time you checked the sky. It was also really warm and there were so many people out that Kat and I found it pretty easy to stay up with the rest of the city until dawn tho we weren't talking all that much. We were just trying to take in all the sights that we realized were going to overwhelm us very fast.

A friend of mine from Seattle surprisingly found me on the Esplanade (which would never happen again as the population of Black Rock City exponentially increased as the week went on) when he'd heard me introduce myself to a friendly stranger Kat and I had started chatting with. He was wearing this awesome United Airlines jumpsuit that was honestly.. um.. really hot on him and I couldn't help but notice and, of course, compliment, which I think was appreciated.

The three of us wandered around for a bit after that, but Kat wanted to stay out for a while longer and the morning was wearing on to dawn - something we noticed we did a lot of. My jumpsuit-clad friend and I were thinking of sharing each other's company further, so after making sure Kat would be ok on her own, boy and I set off for my camp to end our night.

Friendly faces, a lunar eclipse, a cute boy in a jumpsuit no less and my first night on the playa. I was liking Black Rock City and more than that.. I think it was liking me.

And She's Back..

It's true. I've returned.. older, wiser, um.. dirtier.. than when I left just over a week ago with a couple of braided-haired girlfriends, crossed four states, left lush forests for the dusty playa, baby wiped my entire body for my daily 'shower' and managed not to freak out about how my dainty emailing hands quickly turned into a construction worker's over night.. and had one of the most amazing experiences of my life.

I have a ton of stories about the people I met, the incredible creativity within the camps and art cars we saw, the breathtaking art pieces, and just the amazingly generous spirit of most of the people there. I highly recommend the trip to everyone.. it was something I'll never forget and I hope I can do again and again - I'll just have a better idea of what to expect now.

I'm still absorbing the effects, not to mention recovering from the sheer exhaustion of traveling and eating pounds of dust I'm sure and thus, picked up a little head cold at some point that reared its ugly head the morning after we'd left the playa so bear with me and be patient this week. Pictures are uploaded but I have to sift thru mine and then steal others' since I couldn't get everywhere over five square miles of dried up lakebed for everything. There were just too many distractions, but I will get something out soon my pets..

And huge HUGE thanks to Indy and Ammogirl for stepping in while I was away. I'm sure my five readers have now given up on me for good and will be your newest fans, which they should've done anyway. I bow to you both with great respect.

Off to bed for further recovery. Hope you all had a fabulous week and I'll write very very soon.. like.. maybe tomorrow! Crossing fingers!

grab your life jackets, folks, we're going in

Hi. So, I'm ammogirl, and I was crazy enough to tell Miss D I'd cover for her while she off was getting her Burner wings. Crazy, because I can barely find enough interesting material to write about in my own damn blog, crazy because Indy, whose guest posts I have the honor of following, actually knows how to write well and with humor, crazy because I don't use Blogger myself, and I tend to have bad luck with things I'm not familiar with. If things look broken, I'm the dumbass who did it.

Regardless, here we are, you and I, so I suppose we should make a go of it, shouldn't we?

On with it.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

One of the things I am the most puzzled about in regards to my parents is the bizarre term they had for my girlie parts when I was growing up. Now, before I go on, I would like to point out that I am 36 years old, and my parents have never ever had a sex talk with me. Ever. This has resulted in a very strange backwards relationship between me and them in regards to sex and it's various euphemisms. They revel in my horrified blushes and blank stares, brought on by their references to 'making love' and whipped cream and power tools. "Dear," my dad says, "look! look at your daughter! she's blushing, har har har." Har har indeed. I want to chastise them for being so disgusting, but in doing so, I would be acknowledging the act of fornication to them, and this is something I will never be able to do.

Because! It's their fault! Which brings me back to my original story: The Term.

I was raised sort of weird. I couldn't say butt. I couldn't say fart. I couldn't even say the word 'poop', which I'm sure is the basis of one of my many phobias...but I digress--we are talking about girlie bits. Obviously, if 'poop' could not be used, saying the word 'privates' or 'peepee' or, even worse, 'vagina', was NOT ACCEPTABLE. But I couldn't just call it nothing, so something had to be done.

I like to imagine the day my mom came up with The Term. I sort of picture her at her desk, brow furrowed, puzzled over what inoffensive word could be used...muffin? no...taco? no...urine spigot? noooo...and then, her eyes wander over to a book laying by her hand, a gift for an expecting friend. Needing some distraction from such an intense task, she picks it up, and starts flipping through the pages of baby names, when all of a sudden, one LEAPS off the page at her. Yes! She says to herself, feeling triumphant. This is PERFECT! From henceforth, all female genitalia shall be known as...Nicky!

You guys. Come on. Can you think of anything that could cause more trauma and confusion and misconceptions to a small child of four than christening all vaginas as Nicky? Life was fine until I got to the freakin first grade, where to my absolute horror, I met not one, but two girls named, of course, Nicky.

Obviously, I assumed those girls had awful parents, because who names their kid after THAT? But then I started to slowly realize that it was MY parents who were awful, because who names their vagina after a KID?

Well, this is when I began to realize that my parents just were not down with letting me know anything about S-E-X. Life went on, and nothing changed. Middle school, Junior High, High School...still, no discussions. Perhaps they were hoping that by not talking about it, it would cease to exist, and Nicky would never want to hang out with the likes of say, Dick, or Peter. Who knows, but this silence continued on past graduation into marriage and my first child- whoops! And only then, after I myself was a mom, did they start wanting to talk sex with me. But at this point, um, I was having none of it. This all lead to their discovery in the not-so-distant past that they can embarrass me on demand, and the never-ending quest to do so.

Don't get me wrong--I'm no prude. I talk about sex. Just...not to my parents. Ever.

About ten years ago, my oldest sister got a cat. She named it Nicky. The sheer number of levels at which this is humorous is sublime.

The bottom line, you guys, if you have young kids, don't do this thing to them. To this day, when I hear the word Nicky, it makes me think vagina. And that is...just not right.

And here we are at last: the end. It is so much harder to post on someone else's blog than I could have ever dreamed. I'm just going to close my eyes, hit publish, and run.

Tschuss!!

~~ammogirl

Hunt Theory

My theory/thought on what anon said here about the chase or the hunt...

The Gazelle

The herd of gazelle moves across the plain…sleek and graceful lines finding comfort in the strength of the herd, finding protection in their numbers, they move with a purpose but somewhere deep in their core they realize that their purpose is to be prey, to be run down, hounded, chased and finally caught. And yet with flight response primed they seek to flee, to evade, running, knowing that with each hunt they are left tired, more prone and more easily caught the next time…they run and yet they tire and in the tiring they desire for the hunt to end with their capture.

The Cheetah

The cheetah, muscled, focused wanting to run, to chase, to hunt and to sink himself into the choicest of the herd, eyes ahead his target is the juiciest meat of youth, the cleanest, most preened gazelle catches his eye and his hunger. His destiny is to hunt her; his strength is given for just that, a limited amount of power, will and effort to hunt. And yet even as he pads slowly towards her, stalking for the best position he knows that his energy has limits and to exhaust himself in the revel of the hunt will leave him blown, hungry, alone, and less able to pursue.

The Hyena

Is the scavenger of the field, he does not hunt alone, rather finding strength in his comrades, they move around the fringes nipping in to bite at the herd before retiring to run down the old, the infirm, or those still too young and naïve to avoid their teeth. But even for the hyena the prize is always the Gazelle, alone, tired and with little energy left from her flight from the Cheetah, she is eyed as a trophy worthy of the pack…or at least until the Cheetah has tired another.

And so the hunt begins.

Each plays their part.

If the Gazelle gives in too easily the Cheetah will feast quickly, and with energy reserves still full will cast glances at the herd and wonder after other quarry and imagine other hunts…he will grow restless as his energy demands to be used.

If the Gazelle runs too hard, flees to well, then the Cheetah will tire and not wishing to retire without catch will cast his eyes around for a less desirable but more easily catchable prey…his hunger needing to be satisfied he will with energy reserves almost exhausted strike at a lesser animal and settle into the meal it offers him.

If the Cheetah attacks well, he will chase the fleeing Gazelle, he will anticipate her turns and her attempts to wheel, and with calculated ruthlessness he will run her down, tiring her, exhausting her until with a stagger, he pounces. With reserves almost spent he will sink himself into the perfect meal and he will feast, with both hunter and prey complete in whom and what they are.

And yet, if the Cheetah starts his attack with a pounce, surprising the Gazelle, she will start, her flight response engaged, not realizing she desires to be caught she will flee, and with aggressive pursuit the Cheetah will chase, his breath hot on her flanks she will dig fleeing faster and with advantage lost the Cheetah will tire quickly, retiring from the hunt to choose another or to plan with fresh eyes a new attack.

Sometimes the Gazelle will flee the Cheetah, twisting and turning, her agile form dancing from his claws only to spot a more perfect feline with which to offer herself and she will lead the hunt before him hoping that he will join and pursue with vigor her tiring pursuer now lacks. This is a dangerous ploy since the Cheetah are wary of such flighty hinds and rather then exhaust themselves they will then merely pursue for fun, running her until she is tired, feasting on her as a temporary snack but still with energy for further hunts or instead giving up the chase just before she does to pursue a more honest and singular quarry.

The Hyena instead attack with laughter, with relish they fall upon the tired Gazelle, exhausted from her flight she is easy prey for the pack, who tear at her, twisting her one way then another as each rip into her, sharing her, seeking their fill from a meal not really theirs and that will not fill their hunger. And if with weary legs she manages to avoid the gnashing teeth of the pack she is still left lessened, scared and less able to fulfill her purpose of feeding the Cheetah whose eye she can no longer attract, and so will fall if not today, then tomorrow to another ravaging pack.

And so the hunt will end.

The Gazelle knows she is enough meal for one Cheetah.

The Cheetah knows the Gazelle will see him full and satiated.

The Hyenas know that they must share in their prize, so will discard her when used, to hunt for more, never finding enough to satisfy, in the shared meal.

Note: For those who wonder where is the Lion in this scenario? Well that's easy, in the wild the Lion does not hunt, rather his pride hunts for him, bringing him the choicest bounty so that he may feast, so that he may take his fill.

So the question is which one are you? Which one have you been? And perhaps more importantly which one do you want to be, and be seen to be?

- Henry "Indiana" Jones, The Dogs Name

10 Ways to not get a Second Date

So Miss D in a fit of possibly insane or alcohol inspired inspiration has asked me to guest blog for a few days, and since my content and writing style is totally different to hers, I hope I don't offend all of you...90% would do.

These 10 rules for not getting a second date have been culled from a small level of personal experience and from the collective wisdom of the Blokes form the Pub, so ladies if you don't ever want him to call, and you never want to see or hear from him again I present you with a list to assure just that.

1. Arrive Late: put simply an inability to be punctual is a sign of sloppiness, it suggests lack of genuine interest, and it is disrespectful and rude. All the adjectives you would use to describe a man who is late for a date can be likewise used to describe you if you are late...it is not endearing, whoever told you that lied to you. Worse it starts the date off on the wrong note since it screams "you are not important enough for me to drop what I was doing at get ready 15mins earlier so I could be on time", it tells us from the word go "you are not really into us".

2. Order for a Rabbit: You are not a stick thin waif existing on a lettuce leaf a day (well you might be) we have invited you for dinner, so do us the courtesy of eating something...if you said you eat anything and we take you to Morton's we don't expect you to be picking at the creamed spinach (which we agree is awesome) while we are the only one enjoying the grilled bovine. You don't have to shovel it in like a trash compactor but please order something, it really will impress us.

3. Chew Your Cud: You are not a bloody cow, learn to eat with your mouth shut. I know we are talking and I know a conversation involves you opening your mouth, but the words do not flow smoothly around the aforementioned chewed bovine while you are spraying me with creamed spinach...take smaller bites, its not a race, chew your food, swallow and then answer the question...want more time to eat, ask one back...it is after all called a conversation.

4. The Ex: Yes you have one, and yes I am sure he was a total bastard for whom you pray that there is a special place reserved in Hell...but FFS, do I have to know about it, him, and that bucks night in Vegas with a stripper name Candi. I promise to not tell you about mine, yes I have one too and I bet in the bitch stakes she can give your ex a run for his money...but seriously if I wanted to know about him I would be at the nearest bar drinking with him, instead I invited you out so I could find out about you. If you still need to talk about "the prick" maybe it would be better if you and your girl-friends all sat round with a pitcher of margarita and shared "man hating" stories until you are all drunk.

5. Get Shit Faced: A healthy appreciation and even enjoyment of alcoholic beverages is a must, since if you are teetotaler what are you doing out with us at a wine/martini/whisky bar...but trust me getting a little tipsy is endearing, and you might reveal something about yourself that would be fun to know. Having to carry your arse up a flight of steps and into a cab is not.

6. Wear the Wrong Shoes: You know how women judge men on their shoes, on the condition, the matching socks, the fresh buffed and cleaned leather...you know how a woman starts at a mans feet and lets her eyes wander up his body to finally take in his face and his eyes...well a man starts at your face drops very quickly to your feet and takes a lot longer to get back to your face than you do. And remember how you were judging his shoes, he is too. And "No" those bright pink espadrilles with the rhinestones on the toe are not cute, they never were and they simply never will be.

7. Multi task: You are not the leader of the free-world or even the oppressed world, there are not men standing around wearing shades and speaking into their wrists and the guy next to us is not carrying the "football" so turn your phone off. There is no message you can possibly receive that is so important that you need to answer it while you take 2 hours to dine. If there is, explain it to us at the beginning, if your dad really is that sick and in hospital we will understand or better yet suggest we get take out and go and eat it with him. (If we don't understand then what the f*ck are you wasting your time on us for in the first place, you deserve better)

8. Total Agreance: We are not the font of all knowledge and while we know some of our well reasoned opinions and theories are in fact logical, sound and have been tested by experience, we do not want you to agree with us blindly. Feel free to call us on our bullshit because we will call you on yours...as long as you do it tactfully, nicely and are able to support your counter thoughts, we will actually respect you more. (Again, if we don't then WTF are you doing dining with a Neanderthal like us?)

9. Wandering Eyes: We fully appreciate that you do not like it when we ogle the waitress, the same goes for you and the barman...yes we agree he does have big "guns" and we are sure that lots of chemical substances helped his pecs get just that way, but they also shrunk the bits you want to see, and besides he has a six-pack...you don't! Is that the kind of pressure you crave?

10. Cleavage: This is a difficult one since the line between leer and admire is as wide as the amount you like us. But if you dressed to show off your "assets" in an effort to impress us don't get upset with us when we look. We are men and if you put them, or your legs or your bum on display with your dressing, we will silently thank you and whatever god we believe in, and then look. It took you a long time to select the perfect outfit you were going to wear, you know the effect you were going for, so don't get upset when we look.

- Henry "Indiana" Jones, The Dogs Name

Shed Your Skin

The 11th hour is quickly approaching. The errands are just about finished, supplies acquired, and lists are dwindling. The pre-meeting/packing bash with the other two partners in crime is set for tomorrow afternoon at Mrs. Pixie's place, who's very antsy to get going, I can tell from the multiple calls we're making back and forth.

These boots were a magic little expenditure that I felt I absolutely needed, not to mention the pink kitten hoodie hat complete w/ pink fuzzy tassles. And no, I won't be wearing just those, thank you.. It's not surprising every boy I discuss this desert party with directs the conversation immediately to how I will suddenly tear off my clothes and dance naked and free among 40,000 other naked and free people. Hi.. have we met? I'm just not a naked type girl. Underwear, most likely.. but naked? Probably not. Well.. just in a few instances.. where it's necessary of course.. not that showering will be one of those.

God.. I will survive this, won't I? Yes yes.. I will. Seven days. In the desert. For realz, Treena.

Speaking of.. in my absense, as sad as it is to leave all of you for the disconnected land of the sizzling and dusty playa, I have secured a couple of very friendly, very talented, as well as very attractive writers to take my place. Indiana, from The Dog's Name, will supply a little titillation as he is one of the best examples of the male perspective in the world of he said/she said. An Aussie man's man, is my guess.. tho we've never met in Real Life, but we've struck up a very real friendship in this virtual world and I'm honored he's going to grace my pages with his gifts. Wait.. that came out wrong.

ANYWAY..

Treena is an old friend from high school, goes by the alias, Ammogirl, and is funny as all get out. To this day I don't know how we weren't closer in school since we grew up to be basically the same person, tho she has the oddest phobias of lint, lettuce, moths.. you get the gist. But again, total crack up and it's a privilege for me knowing she'll step in later next week to keep you all entertained.

So be good my pretties. I will have many many tales of adventure when I come back completely exhausted, smelly and greasy.. but smiling, I'm sure. Be good, but not too.. if you know what I mean.. and I'm sure you do.

My New Favorite Fairy Tale

I have always loved fairy tales.. always been the little girl who wanted the prince to come find her. I admit it. I was one of those girls who loved unicorns and wished for wishes and fairy godmothers - and the luminescent skin all the heroines seem to come with. I rather thought I'd grown out of that tho I still treasure my little girl hopes. I was totally brought back to the age of seven when I adored the idea I could grow up to be a princess and live in a magical kingdom when I saw Stardust tonight. This is my new favoritest movie ever. It has everything a fairy tale should have - wicked witches, dashing, tho evil, princes, unicorns, pirates.. and an awkward boy who seizes his moment - and the girl no less - all just in time to save the day. There were campy moments within a very witty script, which kept the story from being overly cheesy and reminded me of the wryness of Princess Bride at times. Of course, there were a couple of holes Boz and I noticed.. but we let them slide because in fantasy land, not everything makes sense. Plus, it was just charming as hell. Go see it. See it twice even. I'm putting it on my wish list when it comes out on dvd.. my birthday is right around the corner.. hint hint..

A Call To Arms

In 10 days there will be a caravan of three girls, two blondes and a semi-red-headed brunette (who needs her hair dyed), amped up to the highest degree, headed to a makeshift tented city in the middle of the Nevada desert, which will consist of dust, a dried up alkaline lakebed, and about 40,000 other people from across the country for an entire week. And tho I will reveal more about this specific event later, whilst the three amigas are en route and consciously detaching from their interweb addiction and trying to prevent the forseeable and ugly withdrawel symptoms, yours truly is going to need a stand-in, a substitute, another perspective, if you will, to fill the empty blogspace, not to mention supply much needed entertainment to my now five whole readers the masses who remain.

Yes, that's right. I'm soliciting your assistance. Your creativity. Your time. Your ability to use three dots for ellipses rather than my rogue (and honestly, incorrect) use of just two (Y'all think I don't know or something, but I do it on purpose. Oh I'm just the vigilante of grammer I tell you.. whatever that means.).

So, if you think you could be up for this daunting task, the criticism, the comments, the overwhelming responsibility of being well.. basically a better me than me, have your people call my people and we'll start making some magic, not to mention history. Aw yeah.

Further Observations.. What? It's Not Like Anyone Is Reading These. Are you? My 4 Readers??

I wasn't really done with the first one apparently.

* Target brand floss is no second runner up to the Crest Glide. I have to be honest. Really not the same league at all. So take my advice, don't be cheap when it comes to your teeth. Spend the extra 79 cents or whatever and just get the Glide. Your gums will thank you. And get the mint. It's yummy.

* Girls, the Philosophy big gorgeous eyes mascara is my new favorite bit of make up. Holy crap my lashes have never been so long. They leave a little schmutz on my sunglasses they're so long! The eyes are popping all day, I tell you. It's insanity.

* Philosophy also has this AMAZING smelling scent called 'falling in love', I know.. cheesy, but it really is fucking fantastic.. and that's how I smell when I lather on the lotion I got as a free gift when I spent a kajillion dollars getting the perfumed oil and the lotion for Fatima's birthday.. and it wasn't really a kajillion dollars.. because I maybe didn't get her anything for Christmas so I really needed to make up for being a complete loser, but still, after she got everything full sized, I knew she wouldn't mind if I kept the freebie stuff and smelled just as good as she would. Blackberry and vanilla.. seriously, go get some now. It's all kinds of awesome. People will run to make out with you. Ok.. if they don't, they certainly should. I mean, if they're cute and all.

* ALSO, since we're talking girl stuff - the M.A.C. Plushglass lipgloss is pheNOMenal. Also also.. it smells like cake. I'm not kidding. They all do. How great is that?! That was the clincher on the sale for me since that is the best ever four-letter word, people. CAKE. Do you HEAR me?! I got it in 'Wildly Lush' and I have been lushing wildly ever since.

* Gorgeous eyes, lush lips, smells good and general all around bad-assness? I mean, why the hell am I still single?! And, yes - this was an official observation. It's asterisked, isn't it?

* Speaking of being available.. I just saw The Bourne Ultimatum.. and I decided I'm saving myself forever for Matt Damon. Ok.. no, not really. He's happily married with baby, but there is some oh-so clever ass-kicking all over the damn place.. and a lot of really hot go-get-em moments and yet none of Matt taking off his shirt or anything, which would've been more disappointing had all the action not sucked me in - but it really did. Action over shirtless Matt? Ok.. I'll take it.. not every day, but this was well worth it.

* Getting a pedicure in the peak of summer is what toes were made for. My feet are so pretty right now they should have their own musical. Even if I have to wear sneakers due to this winter-like weather that has suddenly afflicted us here, which = lame, my toes = still rad.

* I never did get my wisdom teeth removed as a kid because you know why?? Because I had braces for four and a half years. YEARS PEOPLE. You know how long 4 1/2 years is to a kid??? Well, it was the latter half of 8th grade and ALL of high school. When I was getting ready to leave for Norway they were still on and I made a special trip to Mr. Dentist and said, 'Look.. I am NOT going overseas with these babies still on. I think my teeth are straight enough, don't you? Let's get them off oh, say now. Yes?' And he complied. So you'll understand that I've been thru the ringer when it comes to orthodonture. Headgear, many teeth pulled all at once with tears streaming down my adolescent face while four or five doctors looked on, too many appointments for x-rays, novacaine, gauze and numbed and sagging lips and chins. I mean, I HATE going to the dentist, but I've got these top two wisdom teeth that are giving me a hard time. Instead of pointing straight down, they point outwards towards my cheek and always poke at me, like they're pulling a Jackie Chan and trying to kick their way out of my mouth. But you guys.. I'm scared. Do I have to go? Because - and you'll be shocked about this - I haven't been to the dentist in 10 years. Yes, believe it. Is that bad? Before that, it was another 10. Aaaaand the rest of my teeth are so pretty that passers by comment on them all the time and no one believes I haven't seen a dentist in ages (this is because I floss - ("Only floss the ones you want to keep," the last smartypants dentist told me) and use white strips) so you'd think I'd be covered right? Right? Do I really have to go? Ugh.. don't tell me.

* Last but not least, there is a new and exciting development in the works planning for a crazy little trip in just a few weeks and you'd never believe it because it includes things like 1) dirt and 2) camping, which are only high on my list of Things That Annoy Me Or That I Don't Really Like Doing. But, I've been coerced and actually bribed, which still has me shocked, by a couple of lovely girlfriends/cohorts and if I get the time off that I requested, at the end of the month we will all be among the masses here in the Nevada desert. For a week. God help me.

Now, can someone find me a cute boy who is not moving from the area, who isn't crazy with metaphysical spirituality, doesn't lie, doesn't drink too much, doesn't smoke at all, isn't 'working on himself', isn't flakey, isn't scared of the word 'plan' or doing that more than three hours in advance, is uber cute, adorable, funny, smart, thinks I'm all that and a bag of chips, laughs WITH me at all my 80's clichés and digs my Rod Stewart hair in the morning? Like.. before I'm 36 would be lovely. Thanks.

Midsummer Observations

It is shocking - shocking, I tell you - how slow the latter half of July has been considering the first half and all of June were moving at breakneck speeds of all the above-average social butterflyness it could. So I've now had time to catch up on blogs - tho I can see the rest of you and your summers have NOT slowed down in the least because um.. yeah.. you're barely keeping up in the blogosphere [read: GOD I need some rest-of-summer plans] - I've done some shopping, had dinners with friends, drank lots and possibly even extra lots of wine, been pretty rigorous about this working out idea, which is actually less than an idea and more just me being excruciatingly sore in every possible muscle and not getting the least bit tinier overall that I've noticed, had my car fixed (more about that shortly), got a raise, reconnected with an old beau, tried to date a new one that will be moving in October anyway, so yeah, that's going well.. and have been keeping up on The Daily Show and learning more about politics than I should in any given summer.

So you know.. it's going.. just.. a little slowly right now. Tho crap! It's August already. You know what that means for Seattlites? Yeah, um.. summer is just about OVER and all of us here could swear it just began! So yeah.. there's that.

ANYWAY.. I've thought about some things and I'd like to share them with you.

* I am totally losing my eyebrows. NO, it's not because I'm over-plucking. I don't pluck in the middle of my brows where they seem to be thinning. It's just uh.. I'm getting older? Possibly. The hairs are seizing their moment to escape?? More likely. Additional guards are being called in.

* Seriously, if you already thought Jon Stewart was frickin brilliant, last night's Stephen Colbert's The Word, about special prosecuter Alberto Gonzales, was beyond stellar. I'm just wondering how many times Bush can invoke executive privilege and continue to back this guy..

* Tho I really wouldn't use my blog to say how great myspace is, it has done its bit of good and brought me so many new old friends. One being your friend and mine, dear Ammogirl, as well as other scattered high school and college randoms that I never really hung out with actually, but certainly appreciate their vigor in getting my attention and reminding me of who they are. So last Saturday hit a little closer to home when a boy I was completely smitten with my second to last year in college found me. And when I found out he lives just over on the eastside (well, I questioned at first, why the hell would you live over there?!), I was super happy.

So Jasper* and I re-met, caught up over drinks (and snacks, you know I have to have food, people), and I was just genuinely smiley the whole time. Not that I was hoping to reconnect that way - but I always had this affinity for him and he's always been a cuddly sort of guy - tho he'll probably hate me for writing that - but he's just one of those people you feel good being around and I know I need more people like that in my life. So.. yay me! Also, I can tell I talk too much for him.. probably why we never amounted to much.. but as a friend, he's very sweet in putting up with it so far. Bonus!

* I love this girl. I know I bring her up all the damn time, but you have to understand, we are sooooo different that it's kind of funny that we're friends. And then perfect because of exactly that. We've had good chats, done tarot, thrifted, gifted, dressed up, down, and all around, listened, had at least one tiff and at least a couple moments of 'I'd really like it if you didn't do that' sort of thing. Tho sometimes I expect one of us to put her arm up and push the other away a little due to our past experiences, we continue to motion the other to come closer instead. I mean, I'm persistent when I think someone is worth it and I'm just glad she allows me to remain there as one of her friends. Yeah, I pretty much love her to bits.

* Construction in your backyard sucks. Just in case you had no idea or thought maybe it wouldn't be so bad? No no.. it is. My landlord sold the backyard, which is less than 10 feet from my front door (that's around the back of the house mind you), so someone could build two townhouses.. and they started this morning. Let me just say bringing a backhoe thru a tiny alley sounds like a T-Rex stomping thru and then when it bites thru the cute little picket fence that's probably been there since the 50's like it's chomping up it's morning meal.. um.. it's a bit disconcerting. Not to mention loud. Also, the 'construction' guys should leave their seven-year-old kids at home. The ones who shout from my 'front' porch to their dog, which they also shouldn't have brought. Hi. Yeah. Thanks for noticing I sort of live here.

* When in unfamiliar parking territory, maybe look around your car for possible things that you may run over and, in fact, could be out to damage your sweet little ride and cost you oodles of cash to fix. Take my advice.. don't park in the sketchy pull out in front of one of your best friend's gorgeous Cape Cod mansiony houses even tho you love visiting, but just as a precaution remember that blackberry bushes and gravelly grassy areas can hide gigantic cement rocks with rebar in them that were once probably part of a house nearby but turned into blatant debris that was not so blatant at all because YOU DIDN'T SEE IT THERE WHATSOEVER and CRUCNHCRACKELYCRUNCHYMANGLEYCRUNCH was the sound it made as your poor little roadster ran over it and then promptly cried.. cuz OW...... sigh.

* Observation to self: Stop whining about stupid shit when life could change drastically in a matter of moments like it did for many people in Minneapolis when a bridge crossing the Mississippi River collapsed in the middle of yesterday evening's rush hour leaving four people confirmed dead, at least 79 others injured, and 30 or more still unaccounted for. I'm relieved the school bus full of young children trapped on a portion of the broken bridge was evacuated safely, but watching the raw video of the bridge in process of crumbling sincerely took my breath away. My heart and prayers go out to those who have lost loved ones to this accident as well as those who are still waiting to hear. Stupid tragedy. Finger pointing is imminent..

* On a lighter note - it's my little brother's 34th birthday today! I can't believe he's that old and he's doing so well - see his surf shop link here: Wave Hounds. Go there for bikinis, random jewelry, surf boards and gear, and a chat. He or my sister-in-law, Red**, will set you up. And tell him I sent you! Happy birthday little bro!


*Again, he picked the name, but at least this is one of his actual nicknames and it suits him I think. Cute, isn't it?
** Not her real name. See the website silly.

The Right Wing Cares About You, Lindsey

I had to write a quick post after the gym and pre-So-You-Think-You-Can-Dance watching because I was trying to just bust thru my cardio tho hi.. ow.. from my Monday work out of legs and core (people.. I'm SO bad ass these days, I tell you) and I wasn't into watching the silent tv's even tho on my far left was Last Comic Standing and on my far right was the previously mentioned dance show and I couldn't exactly watch that and ruin my whole experience later.. so the one right in front of me would be that show I can hardly stand, of course it's on Fox and something I could barely remember so I had to look it up and guess spellings and whatnot while searching on Google, but it's this very clearly Republican and overly-opinionated show called Hannity and Colmes. As in.. YAAAAAAWWWWWN.

Blahblahblah.. rightwingspeak, rightwingspeak.. AH! Newt Gingrich and oh.. the democrats are such hypocrites.. blahblahblah the liberals suck, right? The usual. Don't care because clearly, I already don't agree with them on principal or in thought and then the screen changes to celebrity newsy stuff and I thought for a moment it had switched to Larry King, the new god of gossip and un-hard-hitting news these days, but no, it was still Haggity Ann or whatever his name is with a clip of Lindsey Lohan and they were talking about her rehab relapse or whatever the latest issue the poor little rich girl has gotten herself into now.

But it wasn't Lindsey they had on.. No, of course not. It was her estranged father. With a plea, people. A fucking PLEA. They literally asked him if he could talk to his daughter, right now, if she was watching.. what would he say to her this very minute. And out came the biggest bunch of Velveeta and for whom I'm not even sure. It went something like, 'Lindsey, I'm your father and I always will be your father and I don't care about your celebrity or what people have been telling you and I'm always going to be here for you no matter what happens and blahblahblaggityblah..' And he continued on and on for like five minutes about how nothing mattered but her and it was too bad people had said these horrible things and the whole time I'm thinking.. they should really rename this show to Hoo & Cares since clearly this girl and her father are not by any means what the world should be discussing but for some reason, still are since they are on every single gossip magazine and every celebrity show on air and I'm craning my neck to read what's going on the tv showing Last Comic Standing since this after-school special on Fox is by far the most annoying thing I've been forced to workout in front of. Can people let it go already? I mean, kids do drugs. They go too far. They get into rehab. Hi. Welcome to Hollywood. I mean, did you just get here or something?! God.

So the girl has some issues, sure.. but I actually like her acting. She was great in Bobby and actually very sweet in Prairie Home Companion, so it's not like she doesn't have skills. She's just going a bit too far as 20-some-olds are apt to do. But to have your own father go on MULTIPLE talk shows.. one being a supposedly weighty politically opinionated show (albeit the far right on the opinions).. to try to tell you how much he cares? Hi.. wouldn't any respect you had left for him plummet out the window faster than your sobriety? Hell, I would pop an 8 ball of speed with a tequila chaser right there. Because how is that helping the poor girl? Maybe shut up already.. Dad. Maybe that's why you have to go thru her attorney to talk to her. I swear.. two brain cells.. and they're fighting.

And Jesus.. could you Half-wit and Come-lately get back to your extreme right political leanings that I can detest with disdain? There's not enough room for you and Entertainment Tonight, ok?

Now can we get back to what really matters? Please? Like who do you think will be voted off So You Think You Can Dance?! Do tell!

Just A Quickie

Hello my pretties..

I know it's been a little while and I haven't really finished my vacation installments.. mainly because I didn't finish my last post while on vacation. Too busy finishing the last of the relaxing I suppose, reflecting and all the family bonding going on. Throw in blogging and it's all a bit too crowded.

So, stuff has been going on. The social life, tho a little on the slow side, is still nonetheless social and there have been events and even a bit of booty shaking, but I just wanted to point out this little film I saw with Boz last night after dining at a new pho spot that did the hunger-satiating trick.

I knew nothing of it, had no idea who was in it or really what to expect except from Boz' brief text description of which all I remembered was 'hit man tries to make good' or something to that effect. And the reviews are crap.. or most of them. It isn't action-packed, it's just fucking well written, which you and I both know must not be what sells movies and is under-appreciated and also, doesn't happen a lot these days. So I'm just saying.

Dry humor, direct and quirky.. equals a damn funny couple of hours if you ask me. Both Boz and I gave it enthusiastic thumbs up - or in my case - a vigorous poke of the pitchfork. Um.. something like that. Either way, go see it. It rocked my socks.

Caution: Work Still In Progress

It’s Friday and the vacation week has hardly registered that it’s the standard end of the usual work week when every day here has felt like a wide-open and unplanned Saturday.

The last few days have been easy and enjoyable with no deadlines and no timeframes to feel pressured to meet. And tho communication with Seattle friends has been limited to sending picture messages and video clips simply rubbing in the beauty of the coast and my vacation while they are working, Pixie found herself in my vacation neighborhood on Wednesday.

She whisked me away after meeting the aunts, uncles and miniature cousin on a short afternoon trip to Manzanita – the hippie junction of the Oregon Coast, we discovered. We wandered tourist-trappy shops, searched for a café with wireless internet as I was needing a fix, but it wasn’t exactly comfortable.. and then we topped it off with grilled veggie sandwiches that were to-die-for and a bit of ice cream and maybe a taste of a decadent brownie before we headed back to my family to join them for dinner, conversation and cribbage.

Thursday morning, Pix took off after a quick bite to adventure on her own for the rest of her vacation and I headed in the other direction to Cannon Beach to find my own solace before my mom arrived. I found a charming café with wireless for the small price of a limonata and apple muffin and off I was back in the world of The Connected.

Three hours later, I ventured back to the house with supplies in tow for the brood because I wanted to be helpful (and I couldn’t validate that much time on the computer without doing so mind you), Mom and her husband arrived shortly thereafter..... and things sort of went downhill from there.

Of course it’s not that terrible. We all have our moments of regression with our parents – or I imagine you all do when it’s probably only me who’s left metaphorically stomping feet these days - and when I don’t see Mom for long periods of time, it just takes a simple lack of her saying an immediate ‘hello’, this dark cloud moves over me and I feel overwhelmingly unloved. Oh the tragedy! But a bit of misunderstanding is normal with us and then someone breaks the communication ice and forces an explanation of the well-I-thought-you-were-reading-and-ignoring-me and then there are hugs and the of-course-I-love-you-silly’s and all is [sheepishly] forgotten, appropriate age of the only resident 35-year-old restored.. ahem.

Still, sometimes I just forget how to be a grown up around my mom and hence, the rest of my family. I claim I’m adult and act that way in my professional life and most of the time around my friends, but when there is tension with relatives, I forget that discussion is always the best solution and revert to being pouty, cool and selfish, words are short but hang in the air with a bite, and people are left a bit stung.

Pixie had waffled on whether or not she wanted to head home today or tomorrow and I convinced her s’more making was imminent and her attendance was required. She came exuberant and prepared for the day and even readily accepted the last minute assigned position of Chief Engineer to Maeve’s impromptu Sand Castle Condo Project. Oh, she had ideas and they were executed brilliantly. After construction completed, quite ahead of schedule I’d say, we bathed our sandy selves in the sun and chatted with one of my twin 17-year-old cousins, Abby, that had arrived the night before who had made her way down to the beach to hang with the bikini clad.

Now, I used to live on the coast just south of here.. and I still have friends nearby I wanted to see. I sort of thought I could fit everyone in during this visit of seven gorgeously unplanned days because that is what I do with my time in Seattle normally. But when I said that Pix would stay another night AND that this old friend and her two children were joining for the next afternoon to see me, one of my aunts visibly became uncomfortable and I realized clearly, I’d stepped over a line.

In retrospect, I should’ve asked. This really was qualified as Family Time and I wasn’t helping to protect that. I seemed ungrateful and as tho I was taking advantage.. and looking at it, I see that I acted like a teenager so I shouldn’t have been surprised that I was talked to like one. But I did shut down, became defensive and passive aggressive later.. and basically, just sort of a brat. I mean, I know how to fight with my mom.. I’ve done it forever and tho it’s completely dysfunctional, that's how we are. My other relatives aren’t part of that broken-ness. They are still parents and make mistakes, but they talk to their kids, they admit where they go wrong when they realize it and call their kids on their crap when they see that too, but mostly in a productive manner. Hi.. I am SO not used to that.

So Pix left, very graciously, an apologetic phone call to my girlfriend who lives south was made taking back the invite I never should’ve offered – and it took til the next night to really fix that with my aunt because I was embarrassed, felt ashamed for acting like a child.. and also, because I felt so awkward at not knowing how to reach out and fix it. I knew she loved me and wasn't angry, but there was part of me who didn’t believe either of those things at all, which was ridiculous.*

The whole thing made me realize I still have so much to work on as a person. I am really flawed, which is ok. It's why people walk away tho.. and some move in closer.. and some don't know what to think other than I'm annoying. Sometimes I think I'm so old.. but I act like such a bratty kid. I feel young and about 26.. but I'm four and a half years short of 40 people.. really.. it feels like something in my life should be much more established and I should've figured things out by now, but I'm still wandering, still trying to figure out where I need work, what I've learned and how not to make the same mistakes.

I think falling into a nap while reading a good book in the sun sounds like the best way to cure these vacation ills.. This growing up stuff is really exhausting!

*GOD I should become a therapist so I can REALLY psycho-analyze myself and figure out why I do this shit.. honestly!

Forever Young

I’m sitting here, my second full day at Arch Cape and I’m behind in writing about Ammogirl’s Seattle visit. Now since I’m at the beach and easily a good three days behind in blog writing and reading, I have to be honest and say that writing wasn’t the biggest priority before I left due to all I had to do before I headed out. But I will do my best to cover all the territory I can here.

You know when you encounter people in your life that you instantly feel comfortable with and you make them friends or you gravitate to them in some way and it’s just a good feeling? Well.. Treena is one of those people. Kari is as well, but I have been friends with her since my sophomore year. When Treena showed up and we started on the very beginnings of reminiscing, it was clear that the borders high school created were the only reasons we weren’t closer to Treena during that time because she is so much like us. I felt like no time had even passed between high school graduation and 17 plus years. Tho she and Kari have both had children, we all felt like girls together, giggling and telling stories of people we used to know, boys we used to be ‘madly’ in love with, etc. We cooked, we drank, we played with Kari’s girls, we shopped, and we even dared open at least one yearbook, which was frightening.. and the whole time I kept thinking.. how did I not know this girl better? But high school is filled with every kind of possible insecurity and awkwardness and the main goal is just trying to fit in and possibly in a way that isn’t completely noticeable because if someone does chance to see it, you’re certain to be ridiculed at some point. Know what I mean?

So Treena arrived on the Wednesday a week before July 4th.. and I was pretty much at Kari’s house every day after work for the rest of the work week. No plans were made for anyone else because when a friend comes from Germany to hang out with you, hi.. you spend the time. So when Kari had some wifely priorities on Friday, I stole the guest of honor and dragged her into the city for pub food and improvisational comedy-type merriment.. something she’d never actually experienced. We invited Loren and the three of us enjoyed some VERY strong martinis, quite a few laughs during the show.. and yours truly, Miss D, FINALLY won something!!! I made the best suggestion during this particular improv show and not only did I win two passes to any improv show after that, but I won two, that’s T-W-O superballs each with a little plastic baby in them.. one white and one black…… Yes.. ok.. ew. But hey.. I won SOMETHING! WHOO HOO!

And tho I was a bit overzealous in procuring dessert after the show, we did end up in Capital Hill with many types of baked sugar forms in front of us before the one o’clock am hour. I really don’t think any of us needed it tho.

Painfully tired, Treena and I headed back to my house, but tho we tried to sleep, we talked like teenage girls having a sleep-over for about an hour before we managed closing our eyes for the night. Must’ve been the sugar high, but it still made us both smile. Friends are good, you know?

Saturday, Kari joined us for brunch and shopping. We wandered with no purpose, dined on gourmet chocolates and Vietnamese coffees, found our way to the movies to see Evening, which is a total chic-flic-tear-jerker and a movie you should see when you’re with long-time friends and we finished with wine and conversation on the eastside so we could wake up and spend the whole last day with Kari and her family.

We languished as long as possible over meals and drinks.. naps in the sun, watching the girls do various gymnastics and dance performances for all of us.. and tried to take in the overdue catching up as much as we could without ever feeling like we were really forcing it. It was all just easy and fun and was just as much a vacation as this time at the beach is really.. just a different sense of family for me and just as rewarding.

I think as we’ve all grown older, it’s easier to erase the bullshit of the past and latch onto what’s positive about the future because in the big picture, what does the history matter? What matters is now. Bonds, friendship, a sense of belonging, trust and loyalty that would take a lot more than distance and dorky high school memories to damage. There’s a sense of ageing together, the aching bodies, the limitations, the wishes that were never fulfilled, and the insecurities that might still be there, but have long since been reduced to miniscule status.. and you can see yourself in your friends’ eyes, which are so warm and welcoming that you spend all your time smiling and suddenly, the time has flown by and you’re at your last moments with each other until an undetermined ‘next time.’

I feel old from Treena’s visit.. but in a good way. I would kill for my 17-year-old metabolism, but there was a new vision once I hit 30.. and it just keeps getting better as the years have passed. I have a totally different life than either Treena or Kari and you can’t say it’s better or worse – and neither would they – it’s just different.. but not one of us would wish for those high school days again.. no no.. even at the price of getting older, we are grateful to have all that over with. Just don’t call us ladies.. ok? And really.. no ma’am’s either.. are we clear? I think we established that we’ll be ‘girls’ forever.

Pretty Close To Paradise

The drive to the Oregon Coast on Sunday felt like driving one long stretch of the same road over and over. It wasn’t at all like last year, which felt like no time had passed and voilà! Beach! Family! Wine! No.. this year it was like I wasn’t getting anywhere, but add in driving behind an RV or slow-going truck that was moving 10 miles under the already 55 mph limit the whole way on a two-lane windy road that made it impossible to pass anyone. Snore..

I literally drove in on fumes having no luck in finding a gas station even 25 miles before I reached Arch Cape. Only the diesel station for said RV’s holding me up from arriving at my destination. But once I was finally out of the car, there were only welcoming arms of my family extended in big hugs and offering a much needed glass of red wine. Then almost immediately, a small voice came from behind all the adult legs, and my teensy little five-year-old cousin, Maeve, said, “Welcome to Arch Cape,” with a bright and shiny grin. “Come have some soup!” And she grabbed my hand, took me out on the deck to the ice chest where she was making her seafood ‘soup’, gave it to me in a crab shaped sand toy and I knew my vacation had begun.

Day 1: We woke up to a grey and windy day and I hoped this wasn’t the sort of thing we’d have to deal with the entire time here. I grew up in Lincoln City, just a couple of hours south from here where a summer day was 60 if you were lucky and you always wore a windbreaker. But my aunts assured me the fog would lift by afternoon and we would be sitting on the deck in the sun in no time. And it was kind of funny cuz they kept saying, “Oh it’s definitely brightening,” as the day wore on when in fact, it still looked the same color of grey and white outside to me, but I smiled at their enthusiasm.

We went into Seaside for some errands, came back and realized we’d forgotten the Beach Essentials of hot dogs and s’more makings, but there was still plenty of time since it was just us adults and 1 precocious five-year-old til Thursday. We had wine. We would live.

Actually, we went thru about three bottles of that just at dinner alone. My aunt Chris was drunk and funny. My uncles told stories of growing up I’d never heard before, which included a particularly funny one about my dad at 15 being chased by my very angry grandpa to the upstairs of their house and Dad being desperate enough to jump out the second-story window because he didn’t want to get caught and whipped for whatever it was he’d done.. how my grandparents actually were pretty strict and how the four boys they had drove my grandmother crazy at times, how that compared to the parents they’ve all become and the mischievous things we all did growing up in the name of rebellion. It was enlightening and lovely just to be there with everyone and to be appreciated as an adult along with them.

We ended our first full day by taking in the many stars you just can’t see when you live in a city. The sky was breathtaking, honestly. We found the Big Dipper and pointed out the Milky Way, which my aunt Chris had actually never been shown in school like the rest of us had.. and when they all went in, I waited until I saw a good sized falling star, closed my eyes, made a wish and said my goodnights.

Day 2: The sun had come out the day before, but it wasn’t until very late in the afternoon and it didn’t last very long. Today was a different story. It was HOT! While one aunt and two uncles headed out to Manzanita for a second day of 9-hole-golf, my aunt Elizabeth, her daughter, Maeve, and I decided we’d have our first sunny adventure down on the beach. Holy Global Warming, people! The wind was so warm it felt like it was coming straight out of a heater. I thought for sure someone had exchanged the Oregon coast for the California one while we were sleeping, but no.. we were certainly in the right place. Bathing suits were revealed, sunscreen lathered on, sandals removed and off we were for a long and leisurely walk while Maeve chased the seagulls and we all searched for the prized and unbroken sand dollars.

My freckles are coming out from their hiding places very comfortably now. My eyes have sparkled a lot more just from the relaxed sense of having to do nothing if I want.. or read a book for a whole hour even.. and I have taken more than my share of naps in the last two days as well. Right in the middle of the day! My aunts give me hugs and kisses for no reason, tell me how great it is that I’m here with them, we make incredible food, drink amazing wine and play pretend everything with Maeve who has one of the biggest vocabularies I’ve ever heard from a child of five.

And to think there are still five more full days of this…

Something Old, Something New

Today, Princess Lulu turns one year old. What a little treasure she is..

And there is so much to tell you all.. but right now I must head to her birthday party. Suffice it to say, vacation has begun and tomorrow I will be heading here:


I know.. you are mad with jealousy. And there will be plenty of time to catch you all up on a recent visitors, the mishap involving a large cement rock/rebar combo and my shiny car - oh yes, it had to happen - and other events.. but one mustn't be late to a princess' first birthday.

Ta for now lovelies!