Really sad about this
Michael Jackson, rest in peace.
Write-a-thon
Starting tomorrow, I am participating in the Clarion West Write-a-thon. This is an annual fundraiser for the fabulous writing workshop I attended in 2005. My pledge this year is to write 500 words per day/6 days per week for six weeks.
This year, with the economy as it is, I am asking my sponsors to perform an act of creativity: be it fiction, fine arts, music, culinary arts, or mechanical. Join me in deciding to be more than a survivor this summer. Live life. Create.
If you wish to make a cash donation, the link is here.
This year, with the economy as it is, I am asking my sponsors to perform an act of creativity: be it fiction, fine arts, music, culinary arts, or mechanical. Join me in deciding to be more than a survivor this summer. Live life. Create.
If you wish to make a cash donation, the link is here.
Fiction
My story, "Awakening in Six Parts" is now posted at Futurismic.
Pushing "Pushing Daisies"
Don't forget to watch the first of three unaired episodes of Pushing Daisies, tonight at 10:00 pm (but check with your local provider) on ABC.
This message brought to you by fans of Olive Snook.
This message brought to you by fans of Olive Snook.
So now this journal is going semi-annual
A week after I said, "Hey, I think we made it through flu season without getting sick," the padawan and I have come down with the weeks-long variety. (Sardonic woo!)
In the past three days we have watched:
Hairspray
Zathura
Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix
Stardust
Nancy Drew
Pirates of the Carribean: Dead Man's Chest
The Dark Crystal (twice)
Spy Kids 3-D: Game Over
American Idol finale & 2-hour results extravaganza
Not the Buffy marathon I had in mind before he joined me in this wretched sickness, but not too shabby. Also at the urging of said padawan, I re-read The Pushcart War, by Jean Merrill. I hadn't read it since I was 10 or 11. What a charming, subversive book.
In the past three days we have watched:
Hairspray
Zathura
Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix
Stardust
Nancy Drew
Pirates of the Carribean: Dead Man's Chest
The Dark Crystal (twice)
Spy Kids 3-D: Game Over
American Idol finale & 2-hour results extravaganza
Not the Buffy marathon I had in mind before he joined me in this wretched sickness, but not too shabby. Also at the urging of said padawan, I re-read The Pushcart War, by Jean Merrill. I hadn't read it since I was 10 or 11. What a charming, subversive book.
Two lines from Emily Dickinson
She sweeps with many-colored Brooms --
And leaves the shreds behind --
And leaves the shreds behind --
Back Street Birds
Hello September
The word for today is tomatoes. Plump, ripe, and on sale today.
BLTs.
Here are some anagrams for the word tomatoes:
moat toes
taos to me
emo stoat
O atom set
soot mate
moot seat
mast? me too!
BLTs.
Here are some anagrams for the word tomatoes:
moat toes
taos to me
emo stoat
O atom set
soot mate
moot seat
mast? me too!
Skip this post if you are eating.
A fresh tub of Play-Doh.
Can you smell it?
No?
Okay, try this: Close your eyes. Imagine rolling it between your hands, forming first a ball, then a long snake that curls as you twist it between your palms. Flatten it on the kitchen table of your childhood (or back patio, or bedroom carpet). Cut it into circles, or stars. Make a play-doh blueberry pie. Serve tiny slices to another person on little plates also made of play-doh.
Now can you smell it?
Yes? Then it's like we're in the same room.
This post brought to you by olfactory emotional conditioning.
Can you smell it?
No?
Okay, try this: Close your eyes. Imagine rolling it between your hands, forming first a ball, then a long snake that curls as you twist it between your palms. Flatten it on the kitchen table of your childhood (or back patio, or bedroom carpet). Cut it into circles, or stars. Make a play-doh blueberry pie. Serve tiny slices to another person on little plates also made of play-doh.
Now can you smell it?
Yes? Then it's like we're in the same room.
This post brought to you by olfactory emotional conditioning.
Ashes, ashes
An early start to fire season in CA (March!) meant that my day at the big D with the young padawan and the princess-in-training was surreal. We stood in line for the Pirates of the Caribbean ride while flakes of white ash from the nearby Anaheim Hills fire drifted down onto the crowd. Lots of out-of-staters who looked up and said "Snow!" and then realized it wasn't.
The light was the wrong color.
The burning smell would come and go.
I've been around wildfires before, and this one wasn't really that close, but it was so strange. Just before you go into the Pirates building, you are standing above the back and forth of the queue. I looked down, and every person below me had at least one fleck of ash on their hair or shoulders. And we went about our business of recreation. The fire was outside, and we were inside.
I don't think this effect is only limited to certain amusement parks in Anaheim. Is it denial or resilience that allows us to go on when things around us are burning?
The light was the wrong color.
The burning smell would come and go.
I've been around wildfires before, and this one wasn't really that close, but it was so strange. Just before you go into the Pirates building, you are standing above the back and forth of the queue. I looked down, and every person below me had at least one fleck of ash on their hair or shoulders. And we went about our business of recreation. The fire was outside, and we were inside.
I don't think this effect is only limited to certain amusement parks in Anaheim. Is it denial or resilience that allows us to go on when things around us are burning?
