1.29.07 | Fortune Cookie says..."Go to Season 3"

1.28.07 | FLOW

Ever since Kevin left for his hut trip on Friday, I have had the most productive 48 hours. I've gotten so much done, tamed so many wild hairs, and have been burning with creative mojo. I feel like I need to reiterate it in list form:

1. Made wedding/party website.
2. Typed out ouline for Eat Right for your Archetype; sent to prospective interested parties.
3. Drafted save the date postcards, front and back.
4. knit and felted another handbag
5. took a stab at mortgage copy for client of a client
6. rescued the Serger from the attic and covered pillows and seat backs with the soft buttery yellow chenille fabric i've had for a year and a half on the dining room table.
7. Went to Acupuncture and Chiropractic seminar; wrote up review/article for BCHA newsletter

Ok, so in list form, it doesnt' look like that much. But it feels like I've done a week's worth of work, and had time to run and read my new book. wowsa.

Now, I think it's time for a new blog page to countdown the next coming of Pete Yorn.

1.27.07 | Save the page

Save the date webpage is underway...yay!

1.25.07 | book deals & tarot cards

I had a crazy moment on Tuesday that got me totally amped, but I'm going to see how long I can hold out before spilling some excited jumping beans.

In more mellow, contemplative news, we watched a bland film called Loggerheads. the only thing that stuck with me about the movie, besides the mysteries of the turtles, was this line from the film: "Why does everyone always ask how long couples have been together, but no one ever asks why they are together...?"

Kevin, who leaves for a 6-day hut trip tomorrow, said over a Mateo dinner tonight it's because the latter question is too personal. I'm not sure what I say, but I know that it surely is a question that can make you take a step back and have a deep look at the threads or whatever keeps a couple together.

1.20.07 | Chakra Khan

On Thursday afternoon, I drove down to Denver to undergo hypnosis for my nail biting and the issues that surround it. So far, I think it has worked. I also believe that I got my chakras in alignment at the same time. I like it.

I just got back from shipping my laptop off to my mumsie. Part of me kept asking why I did it. Part of me kept wanting recompense. And part of me just went to the yarn store next door and thought about how things can come full circle: Mom spends money on horse, ali buys horse (Carpet), Ali rides and shows horse, mom pays for horse habit, Ali sells horse, Ali buys Laptop, Ali goes to grad school, Ali's needs outgrow the laptop that spends most of its time in the closet, Mom needs a faster computer, Ali gives computer to Mom so she doesn't have to buy a new contraption. Call it recycling, call it Karma, call it paying it forward.

In other news, I saw Mike Perry at the Boulder Bookstore on Wednesday (fabulous), and it made me feel much pride toward my homestate. I also bought his new book, Truck: A Love Story and started reading last night. Last weekend I bought: The Red Book, by Sera Beak. So, I've got plenty of reading to do. Reading Perry's book and Beak's book make me want to write. I need to pitch Eat Right for Your Archetype, soon. I may have found co-authors.

And, here's a quote from last weekend's Comcast debacle that is pertinent to all things wedding and all things meaningful: "Anything worth it is worth working on."

 

1.18.07 | Rhubarb pie

So, there is a project that I am working on that I just almost totally dispise and am totally sick of and want to be over. Today, the client emailed and asked me if I knew where all of the images went for products that were uploaded in the admin section. Hell if I knew. So, I set up a test product and uploaded 3 of the handiest images I had on my desktop -- images of PY. Ahh, just looking at him on that horrid site made it so much better for like 5 minutes before I deleted the test product and subsequent images before the client flipped.

I sent them an email saying that I had uploaded a test product and three test images and this is where each image shows up, blah blah blah. And then, they emailed me back all freaked out like: "I'm seeing this guy on my home page. Where did this guy come from?"

I laughed a wicked laugh internally, and I wanted to tell them that they would sell more products if they had Pete Yorn on their site. Because -- OMG -- he is so beautiful... the smile, the hair, the t-shirt... *blissed-out sigh*

 

1.17.07 | Equine poop for the soul

An Ode to Manure Movers

"Cleaning stalls is good for the soul." – Anon.

We’re easing out of that time of year when hauling out horse cookies can be tedious and cumbersome. The extra snow and the adverse weather can make mountains of the mole-hill tasks of keeping pens and stalls clean. The golden nuggets freeze rock hard and impenetrable into the ground. The fully loaded wheel barrows gets stuck in the thick snow and ice ruts on the way to the manure pile, sometimes blowing away before making it to the dumping grounds. We’ve all been there, participating in the less glamorous aspects of horse ownership: manure moving, a discipline that has no off-season.

Back before I got my first horse, my father tried to discourage my horse habit early on by pointing out all the back-end work that needed tending to at both ends of the day, but my horse-owning desires could not be diminished by the ever-present reality of apple picking. At the age of 11, I took to the twice daily barn ritual with the fervent diligence of a nun to vespers. My barn was immaculate with the incense of fresh pine shavings and the subtle, soft fragrance of warm horses lingering in the air. Cleaning stalls was a meditation practice that grounded me with clarity for the day. As I raked and shifted through the Zen gardens of the stall floors, I found solutions to problems, eased the circling of my mind, and learned the valuable lessons of impermanence.

My dad called me “Road Apple Al,” and my clean barn fetish never waned during the prolonged subzero winters of west central Wisconsin, though I certainly learned the limitations of the cold and snow. Dad had carved out a manure pile 50 yards from the back of the barn which wasn’t always plowed when the powder fell by the foot and the wicked wind that would register minus forty degrees below blew a crusty layer across the top. On these seemingly impassable excursions with a wheel barrow piled high, I would push, pull and drag the load as far as my little self could. And then, I would dump it wherever I stopped. This exercise created a pile that kept creeping closer and closer to the back barn doors, which would infuriate my father.

The dedicated among us persist come wind or rain, or 4 feet of snow and frigid temps. We do it out of stewardship and good horsemanship, for the health of the equine critters in our care so they can breathe easier through the cold months that tend to cramp their indoor living conditions. We slave in the summer’s heat and dust for the same reasons, and then some. We try to keep the flies down, to keep parasites at bay and to prevent the inevitable green spots on our horse’s slick coats.

Come winter-spring-summer-fall, manure movers stand behind the horse 100%, knowing full well that as long as there are healthy equine bowel movements, there is job security. Never a day goes by that they are not an integral part of the barn necessities, and with grit, calluses, a lingering farm fragrance and apple pickers in hand, manure movers know that old motto “it’s the same shit, different day” all too well. Theirs is a thankless job, but I would like to amend that. It’s time that these folks get the credit they deserve. On behalf of the fellow equines in our barns and paddocks, I tip my hat to the keepers of the stalls and hope that they continue to find the magic of their daily routine.

1.16.07 | calligraphy on onion skins

With all these pictures, this season of blog is getting almost unruly and large. Time for a new one very soon... I don't know if it can wait for the next PY concert for season 3 of D & M to continue on a fresh page. Real blogs don't have this problem.I guess this is the downside of having a self-built pseudo-blog page.

I was making risotto for dinner tonight and came up with the title of this blog. I thought it would best be saved for a more delicate topic, but I didn't know when that would come around. Today, I discovered a couple cool things, some of which were in my closet.

since it's been so bloody cold here in Boulder, I've been running out of warm workout pants, or so I thought. This morning I stumbled upon two pairs of winrer riding breeches that have always doubled as hiking/snowshoeing/running/walking attire in the winter. Ahh, polar fleece. Nothing keeps my little legs warmer. it was a great re-discovery.

On www.ohmythatsawesome.com today, i learned about rock bath mats. Ohh, I had dreampt about these! and they exist! aha! too bad they are backordered... Now, if only someone would find/come up with real moss/ground cover "mats" for indoors, I'd be a happy happy clam.

1.15.07 | Ides

Tonight I got my laptop ready to send to my mumsie, so she can have a faster computer. As I was going through all the old files, I found some old letters. One of which was my graduation letter from May 2003 and a couple of the high-five letters that came in reply. I will pdf link the Letter (here) and the Replies (here).

Another yummy goodie of reminiscence is the original email recipe for Gallo Pinto from my dear friend Rhett. We determined that Gallo Pinto could take the world by storm, at one point. If only Salso Lizano was more readily available... Gallo_Saves_recipe_here.

And, for your viewing pleasure, this pic just came in from the OZ holiday Party on Dec 15, 2006. I look a little devilish, but that's only b/c I couldn't figure out the red-eye help function in our camera's software program:

Like that tie? yeah, I picked it out. :)

1.13.07 | Fizgig

My cousin Michelle is soon to be a Doctor of Chiropractic out on her own. Here is a site we are working on for her school project <here>

1.10.07 | Double-O Seven

2007 will hold many surprises, I’m certain of these unexpected happenings, and am certain that this New Year will be just as mellifluous as it is desultory as last year. There are a few things that I am putting on the 2007 task list, in no particular order:

1. Stop biting my nails, and end / divert the other habits that keep my mind stuck and circling.
2. Read some fun and pertinent books with Kevin.
3. Continue to be PY's biggest fan.
4. Run the Boulder Backroads half marathon in late September.
5. Strengthen my core (abs work) and open my heart chakra (do yoga)

In the weeks leading up to Christmas, the celebratory and always uncannily right-on Rob B. articulated the ambiguous issues that need work this year for this girl:

VIRGO (Aug. 23-Sept. 22): Here's the bad news. Sometimes your perfectionism verges on being a sophisticated death trip--a manic compulsion to trap life inside a tight little cell where no change is allowed. Here's the good news: You now have the power to strip away the pathological part of your perfectionism and liberate the healthy core of it. Please swear to me that you'll figure out how to be more fluid and playful with your zeal for excellence. Spend less time running your mind in vicious circles and more time running your mind in upward spirals.

VIRGO (Aug. 23-Sept. 22): Mytho-poetic scholars say that honey symbolizes emotional maturity. When it appears in your dreams or reveries, it may mean you're expanding your capacity to experience feelings that are positive and healthy for you. It suggests you're
ready to shed distorted psychological patterns that you unwittingly absorbed as a child, and replace them with new imprints that are in harmony with your highest values. Since 2007 will bring opportunities for you to do these exact things, Virgo, I suggest that you give honey an honored place in your life. Maybe buy some of the best stuff on the market, put it in a fine decanter, and keep it on an altar in your bedroom. Happy Holy Daze!

VIRGO (Aug. 23-Sept. 22): In Kabbalah, the tree of life is the primary symbol of the universe. In Norse mythology, the World Tree links heaven to earth and shelters all living things; beneath it lies a magical well with water that confers special powers on those who drink it. The ancient Chinese spoke of a peach tree that bore a single fruit once every three millennia, and provided immortality to anyone who ate it. In the mythic tradition of modern science, trees have a crucial role in maintaining the ecological health of the planet. I mention all this, Virgo, because in 2007 you'll benefit tremendously from deepening your relationship with trees--both the actual and mythical kinds. Get to know them better. Learn from them. Plant some. Put a picture of a favorite tree on your altar. Hug one now and then.

VIRGO (Aug. 23-Sept. 22): Patriarch Bartholomew, the leader of the Orthodox Christian Church, has a flock of 300 million. Unlike most other religious leaders, he crusades for the preservation of the environment. "To commit a crime against the natural world is a sin," he says. "For humans to cause species to become extinct and to destroy the biological diversity of God's creation; for humans to contaminate the Earth's waters, land, air, and life with poisonous substances: These are sins." The astrological omens suggest that he'll be a good role model for you in 2007, Virgo. You'll generate lush personal dividends if you intensify your intention to live in harmony with nature and invoke a spiritual zeal as you defend your planet against its despoilers.

This blog is informally brought to you by these two goofy words:

hootenanny (HOOT-nan-ee) noun: 1. An informal performance by folk singers, often involving the audience. 2. A thingamajig: an unidentified or unnamed object or gadget.

tohubohu (TOH-hoo-BO-hoo) noun: Chaos; confusion. [From Hebrew tohu wa-bhohu, from tohu (formlessness) and bhohu (emptiness).]

 

1.9.07 | Counting Sheep

Today, I was asked to give a friend some tips to break the cycle of staring at the ceiling between 1 and 3am. If you can't sleep, it's best not to force it. Contemplating the ceiling is not as productive as knitting, reading, journaling or movie watching when you aren't on the way to the Land of Nod.

Sleep Better tips:

1. Hard exercise / an hour of good workout and sweat per day.
2. No caffiene after 12 noon. Or, non at all.
3. KavaKava drops on the back of the tongue, or Kava Tea, or Kava and Poppy extract.
4. Yoga to relax before bed.
5. Journaling to get the toughts off your mind. Journaling honestly to get the really big thoughts and anxieties off your mind. Once they are on paper, they don't seem as big, looming, or scary.
6. Make a list of all your fears and worries. If you don't voice your fears they begin to control you (Dharma & Greg Episode #? -- The one where Greg goes on a Vision Quest).
7. Make to-do lists for little things like groceries, and big things like how many Tris you want to run/bike/swim this summer, what you need to do to get your Ph.D. or be a certified __________. Make a list of your most favorite things ever. Make a list of the things that you feel express the style of your life, them make a collage of it.
8. Listen to Pete Yorn, especially the last third of his first Album (Sleep Better, EZ, Sense, Simonize)
9. Read about taxes before bed.
10. Watch the documentary Rivers and Tides before bed.
11. Think about what you would paint on the ceiling to make it less boring.

In other writing aspirations, I assigned myself to write an essay called "Ode to Manure Movers" for the BCHA Mar/April issue. I'm also thinking of starting a real blog (with hopes of writing a book by the same name) called "Eat Right For Your Archetype." It would be a spoof exploration of eating for your cosmic personality type and what other characters like yourself (from fiction, myth, etc.) should have eaten or probably did eat, what you can eat to curb some personality characteristics, etc. I imagine that besides delving into fairytales and mythic realms, I would also have to explore Chinese Medicine and Indian Ayurveda. Ooh, but wouldn't it be fun!? I'm seeking co-authors...

1.6.07 | Epiphanies waxing

hullabaloo (HUL-uh-buh-loo) noun: Tumultuous noise, excitement, confusion; uproar. [Of uncertain origin. Apparently a reduplication of hallo (former variant of hello), an alteration of French hola (whoa, stop there), from ho + la (there).]

On this snowy and windy day after a past evening of in-car snowball fights and snow in your face and down your pants, I embarked on a morning snowshoe rendezvous on a windblown path in south Boulder with snowshoe compadre, Michele (after scraping the frost off the INSIDE of the car windows). Dispite the gale force gusts that we were facing head-on, the sun was remarkably warm whilewe blazed our own trail before surrendering and taking the trail that was more traveled.

On the way home we stopped at the yarn store where I learn that my most favorite yarn is going out of style. So I bought a bunch of it on the sale. It has beendiscontinued and has been placed on the "Dead Yarn Walking" list. Needless to report, after another unexpectedly successful stash enhancement expedition, I let out a concerned sigh for my pocketbook and vowed out loud to stay away from yarn stores for at least a month. The dear woman who was assisting with the checkout told me to start selling my stuff to subsidize my habit. This is a good idea. I have thought of it before. Why haven't I done this yet? Not sure, really, but I think about knitting myself a job on days when work leaves me disgruntled. I am hoping that all of the recipients of my hats-in-the-mail program would be giving me some good PR...

On a odd note, before I left the house this morning, the cat was hiding in the shower to get away from the dog. On another odd note, I learned yesterday that a co-worker practiced Vulcan Mind Melds on his roomate's cats.

In light of new tid-bits this past week or so, I've been gearing up to read becauseof these three fine literary delicacies:

1. Bare-breasted mama: A blog about Breast Cancer that is so wittingly and sharply and brazenly written, you won't want to stop reading. Check it out here: http://www.literarymama.com/columns/barebreastedmama/

2. Michael Perry and his new book, Truck: A Love Story, will be visiting theBoulder Bookstore on Jan. 17. I am excited to re-introduce myself and get some books signed. He came and spoke to my grade school class like 18 years ago, and I have been reading his stuff in Men's Health for the past year and loving every word. I sent him an email last summer regarding my feelings for his prose and my connections to the Big EC, and his reply email a month later began with "What a neat note..."

3. The Red Book: A Deliciously Unorthodox Approach to Igniting Your Divine Spark, by Sera Beak (as Recommended by Rob B.) *Heck Yes*

12.31.06 | In passing

This was in my email box when I returned from up North... <HERE>

One more reason to eat less meat from the Meatrix. ;)

12.26.06 | holy hollydaze

Before we venture north for 5 days in non-snowy and mild-temped North Dakota, where I hope to run on snow and ice free sidewalks, I have put together the holy hollydaze postcard 2006.

Discussions and ruminations on the great hopes for 2007 when I return. And, here's a mushy note: assuming it is my closest of kin and most favorite of peoples that read this personal banter posted here: I adore you all. People are people because of other people, and that's worth remembering.

Here's my parting thought for the trip ahead: "If you think you're enlightened, spend tIme with your family." -- (I forgot where I read this.)

12.25.06 | moral fiber

A friend send me a link from the MSN news line about a komodo dragon who has had a virgin bitrh via the reptilian phenomenon of parthenogenisis -- when female lizards fertilize their own eggs. What a wonderful meshing of religion and science. I know I should probably write something christmasy and all for the holidays... but the only thing I can think of is what Rob Breszny wrote in his horoscope this past Wednesday, you know, about the reason for the season. Rob writes "HAPPY BIRTHDAY, JESUS":

"Fundamentalist Christians send me hate mail. Religious zealots in ten cities have banned one of my books. Along with meditation, yoga, and sex for fun, the Vatican has declared astrology, one of my occupations, to be dangerous to your spiritual health.

"All of these haters would be shocked if they learned that Jesus Christ is one of the Main High Dudes in my pantheon of gods. They seem to believe that people like me -- goddess-worshiping tantric sufi Qabalist Buddhist pagans who hang around with zen trickster witches and espouse a socialist libertarian political philosophy -- couldn't possibly have an intimate relationship with the cosmic hero they claim to own. They must think they have commandeered the trademark of one of the sweetest avatars in history!

"But I do have an intimate relationship with Jesus. How could I not? He was a champion of women's rights, a threat to the established political order, and a radical spiritual activist who worked outside religious institutions. The dude owned nothing and was a passionate advocate for the poor and underprivileged. He was uncompromisingly opposed to violence and war.
Besides that, he was a master of love and he devoted his life to serving the Divine Intelligence. I want to be like him when I grow up!

""It is easier for a camel to pass through the eye of a needle," he said, "than it is for a rich man to enter the kingdom of heaven." That's a pretty clear statement of his position towards rightwing accumulators of property and wealth. "Love your enemies," he said, "do good to those who hate you, bless those who curse you, pray for those who mistreat you." How any militarist promoting global arms sales and pre-emptive war could claim an affinity with Jesus is incomprehensible..."

And all of this Rob-speak melds with two topics that I wanted to bring up in a post with the same name, but I guess I could say that they are all matted together under this one. Perhaps this was made a bit more poignant after findingo out that Kevin didn't just get red meat for his holiday grilled surprise, he got lamb, and like the Dharma and Greg episode in which Dharma takes over the check out line at the local grocer and come home crying because someone bough veal, I actually had a reaction to learning about K's choice of meat. Most of the time, I am not bothered by meat on other's plates -- at all.

Today, I think I was freshly reminded of how inhumane much of the meat industry is because I had watched a rather gruesome video on the wool industry earlier this week (it's on the advertisement section of www.gofugyourself.com). Not only did I second guess the source of one of my favorite materials, but I was horribly reminded of the moral dilemma I have with eating animals. I ran across a quote in my word.a.day emails, but had dificulty finding it just now. I'm not sure I can remember how/if I ear marked it. I did find a few others, though, while I was looking that are on the same tempered vein:

"Even in the worm that crawls in the earth there glows a divine spark. When you slaughter a creature, you slaughter God." -Isaac Bashevis Singer, Writer, Nobel laureate (1904-1991)

"Until he extends the circle of his compassion to all living things, man will not himself find peace." -Albert Schweitzer, philosopher, physician, and musician (Nobel 1952)

"I became a vegetarian after realizing that animals feel afraid, cold, hungry and unhappy like we do." - Cesar Chavez, farm worker and activist (1927-1993)

I feel like I always have a vegetarian rant on the holidays. Maybe it is my way of trying to subvert and rationalize my subconscious craving for high-quality protein. ;) (I don't know why Whole Foods doesn't have sweet and sour grillled tofu in the deli lately...)

And my last vat of moral dilemmas (that seem so obvious to me) that made me sick to my stomach is politically charged as well. Kevin and I watched the documentary, Who Killed the Electric Car?, a few weeks ago. It was a well-done film regarding the EV-1 cars that were coming out in the mid-late 90s and how the kibosh was put on them in a very short time. This film hit me in the gut in regards to the policymakers decisions and the lies and stories surrounding why they didn't do the "right" thing (for the environment) and literally made me sick. This film sealed the deal on why I can't even watch the news -- or talk about the supreme idiot in charge -- without getting blown away as to how people in power think and act in regards to matters that require a moral response, an answer for everyone's benefit, and a soul.

12.24.06 | wooly

The bag that was inspired to a trip to the Denver Art Museum has been tied off, agitated twice in hot H2O, and voila'! Success. The handle/strap didn't turn out the way I had entirely envisioned, but since it was my first one, i must say, it totally works and I am not a perfectionist about knitting matters.

In the new issue of Dwell, a Dutch felt-ress is featured for her exquisite mastery of felting wool for purposes that stretch the old use definitions of the fiber. Her's is truly fiber art. Textured and lustrious and wiry. I would love to meet/apprentice with her, for her work and description of such in the artlcle wove me in and peaked my interest. I was fascinated by what she did, how she did it, and her end result. As I was reading, I 'felt' as though I could really get into wool like that.

Other things that felt when wet: Finn was so full of snow today, he had such large clumps on this front legs and chest that he could not walk. All the snow that balls up on him, mats his hair much like the hot cycle mats loosely knit creations.

The Big Bag, with 32oz Nalgene for scale. (Handle/Strap is folded across the top.)

The Big Bag, up close and personal.

Finn in the 3+ feet of snow in the backyard.

12.21.06 | Solstice

Last year was my first year at the then 18th annual solstice party hosted by my friend Kim. the party consists of a solstice walk, pot luck dinner, good cheer and a candle holder contest. I showed up empty handed last year and left early. But this year, as soon as I got the invitation I started to work on a candle holder that would outshine my efforts of years past. I started many different ideas, but only one made the most sense: an ice candle holder with natural found objects frozen into it (like Martha used to make. Yes, that Martha. THE Martha).

So, I borrowed some juniper twigs from the neighbors tree, put a pinecone at that bottom of my container, filled it all up with water, put a tin can in the middle of the opening so that I could take it out and have a place for the candle to sit, and stuck it in the freezer for two weeks. the freezer smelled just like a frozen forest of juniper. it was lovely. Before the party, I melted out the tin can space holder, and cut off the plastic containter on the outside. kevin and I drove through barely plowed post-blizzard roads with snacks and said candleholder and wowed the party. I was worried that the twigs would start burning, and only a couple times did i get a woft of forest fire. Overall, it was a super luminous creation and I was voted best candle holder! I took the cake, ...uh, prize that was passed on to each new winner of each new contest. (the green thing that looks like the Grinch's head-hair in the second image below is the melty ice candle holder, for pictures sake.)

The winner of the solstice party candle holder contest. Grand prize is an antique bed warmer (looks like a popcorn popper to me...)

The podium of candleholder contestants: Left to Right: Mike, Meg, Ali, Kim, Sarah

 

12.13.06 | Read me the letter, baby

Late last week, there was a rumor floating around the PY message board regarding notice about PY playing at First Ave in Mpls, MN in March. "heck yes," I thought. "That would be yorn-riffic."

Just last night, it came in the email box: PY is playing at First Ave in Mpls. on March 2, 2007. Kevin wants to go. I want to go. If any one would like to meet us there, tix go on sale this Friday.

12.12.06 | walky-talkies

Today, I fell in love again with walking. I never really fell out of love, I just realized
how much more I loved it as a perfect sport. I ran across an essay by Patty Limerick on her diet on the new website for the Center of the American West. Being a website researcher, I momentarily thought it was an odd link on a professional page, but knowing Patty and her work, I knew that link was in its right place. Whilst reading the essay, I kept shaking my head, smiling and laughing in agreement at her prose regarding the pedestrianness of walking.

Since high school, I've been an avid walker. As much as I've come to love running, it wasn't always easy for me. I was the last person to finish running the mile in gym class, and in other running moments, my motion at that pace never felt fluid and effortless. Walking suited me better then. I could go long and far, work up a sweatand an appetite, bring along a friend and have breath to talk, and solve the world's problems along the way. Even now that running has become easier, I'm still a firm believer in the athletic potency of walking. And, having an energetic dog makes getting out that much easier (and that much more necessary).

Patty's essay touches on every aspect of walking that I adore to the last mile. She talks about how walking becomes a necessity, and how not being able to walk can make you batty; how you never need to drive to the gym with walking, nor do you have to drive much period; how walking is good for the mind, the body, the soul, the earth, choleseterol levels and gas consumption; how walking should be incorporated into the daily grind, used as a problem solving technique, and worthwhile of being billable hours; and ultimately, how there's no excuse, really, not to do it.

You can read the entire essay here:
http://www.centerwest.org/about/patty/diet/index.php

Excerpts from THE LIMERICK PEDESTRIAN DIET AND EXERCISE PLAN
By Patty Limerick of the Center of the American West

"But at a certain point, a gear located somewhere in the self (the brain? the muscles?the soul?) kicks over, and walking becomes something you want to do, somethingyou must do, and at that point, heading off to arrive at a particular destination at aparticular time becomes unnecessary as a motivation. After the transition, if you don’twalk, you feel restless, uneasy, and more than a little batty; denying yourself the rightto walk can resemble trying to persuade a mountain lion to curl up peacefully on a lapand watch TV or listen to soft rock music. This compulsion to walk evidentlyindicates an addiction to the body’s most pleasant chemical, endorphins. But there’sno reason to think technically about this, since this internally generated chemicalprovides one of the world’s healthiest and happiest ways of getting high. It did notsurprise me when I learned that the excellent walking shoes I had acquired carried the“honesty in advertising” name, Addiction Walkers. One indication of the fact that youhave crossed over occurs in parking lots: when you find a parking place close to thestore or restaurant you are going to, you feel disappointed that you will have so littledistance to walk. ..."

"But here is the key dimension of success: you do not need to acquire specialequipment (except some version of “Addiction Walker” shoes), and you do not needto get in a car and drive a few miles to a place to exercise. Here is the really goodnews: the surface of the earth is continuous (well, yes, there are oceans, but they onlyrestrict movement in one direction, and if you are facing the ocean and are stymied onhow to proceed, just turn right or left, and rediscover that there is no better turf forwalking than a beach), and it extends to your front door. And you will not need tohire a trainer or coach to teach you how to walk. Your parents, as well as your owndesire for independence, covered that base quite a few years ago.

" We will debate, into eternity, the degree to which human beings should dominate theearth and its resources, but the basic fact of life on this planet is that the earth is therefor us to walk on. No need to resolve to go to the gym, and then reproach yourselffor letting that resolution drift. Just walk out your door, and the endorphins are gearingup, preparing to deliver you a treat."

Pair this essay with this read:
Wanderlust: A history of Walking, by Rebecca Solnit

12.07.06 | the pete goes on in '07

After feeling ballsy for the past couple of days, I'm feelin like I'm revisiting embodies moods past from whence I would do or say semi-crazy things with good-hearted and seemingly off-the-wall-abandon. Like striking up conversations with strangers, being a little more random than usual, asking for big raises, and not worring too much about outcomes.

To top off the day, PY announced new tour dates for winter of '07. Denver is included, and I'm hoping that Boulder is included very very soon. I'm even considering flying to LA to start this new year off right.

If anyone cares to join me, please let me know. Tix go fast.

12.06.06 | Don't mean nothing

So, the museum inspired felted bag has been started. When this one turns out, I will snap some picts and post it on this here blog for y'all to see.

In related news, this weeks words have been related to dessert -- one of my favorite subjects. I love how this delicious slice of verbiage has double meaning for lingering flavors:

flummery (FLUHM-uh-ree) noun: 1. Any of various desserts made of flour, milk, eggs, etc. 2. Empty compliment; complete nonsense.

** (NOTE: this is why vegan cookies / desserts are WAY better...)

chocolate-box (CHO-kuh-lit boks, CHOK-lit -) adjective: Having a romanticized beautiful image; stereotypically pretty. [From the kind of pictures often seen on boxes of chocolate.]

ambrosia (am-BROE-zhuhuh) noun: 1. In classical mythology, the food of the gods. 2. Something very pleasing to taste or smell. 3. A dessert made of oranges and shredded coconut. [From Latin, from Greek ambrotos, from a- (not) + mbrotos (mortal). Ultimately from the Indo-European root mer- (to rub away or to harm) that is also the source of morse, mordant, amaranth, morbid, mortal, mortgage, and nightmare.]

In other news, I've heard rumors that my astrological charts are slightly amazing... Updates to follow when I get the full reading. Stay tuned.

Rob's letter in my inbox today included these lovely tid-bits:

"When you change the way you look at things, the things you look at
change." -Max Planck, Nobel Prize-winning physicist

"Being able to remain on that dizzying crest: that is integrity, and
the rest is subterfuge." -Albert Camus

And Rob echoed something that deep down I have always known to be soulful, cleaning:

VIRGO (Aug. 23-Sept. 22): I can't believe I'm saying this, but doing lots of housework in the coming days could give you a big lift. At least for now, organizing the clutter and cleaning up a hundred little messes in your home could directly or indirectly lead to improved health, interesting developments in your sex life, and upgrades in your relationship to future work possibilities. It might even free up psychic energy that has been stuck, help you rediscover an important thing you thought you'd lost, and remind you to take better care of a crucial connection you've been taking for granted.

And, as a nonchalant mention, I've been having great dreams featuring you-know-who. As overheard at last weeks kraft night: "..it's crazy, it's a little wild."

12.02.06 | Vertigo

On a very unsuspected snowy Saturday morning, I drove myself down to the Denver Art Museum, in 4-wheel drive, and I made it to my destination in spite of mapquest's ambiguous dead end directions to this very poignant and popular landmark. I was meeting my German tutor for the First Saturday which includes free entrance to the museum for the first however-many in-staters.

The Museum claimed to be more than it's architecture, but it's form made my stomach want to malfunction as I climbed the semi-circular starcase and looked down through the layers. We didn't stop at every exhibit for fear of parking tickets and growling bellies, but I did pass by about 3 images that struck me. One of which was a contemporary Native American weaving in bold colors, like the ones in the Crayola box labeled "bold." I used to love those colors, and apparently I still do.

After passing through the Asian Art exhibit featuring Buddhas and dieties of all shapes and sizes and regional antiquities, we made our way to a hole in the wall, city renown vegetarian restaurant on capitol hill. If you had no idea that this place was groovy on the inside, you'd walk on by. But I had a fig salad with polenta encrustetd tempeh that tasted just like chicken nuggets, all while discussing the ways of the universe and the alignment of the planets; which was wrapped up in talk about religion, about what is and isn't mapped out in life. I wanted to try dessert at this joint, known for its vegetarian bakery, but I was too full and didn't want to sabotage the blood supply to whatever makes one faint.

It was a nice drive home that day. The roads were clear, I was out of 4-wheel, and PY was rockin on the iPod. I kept thinking about that weaving that I had seen. I had to manifest it in another form, but something equally wooly. I decided it would be my next felted bag project, one that would involve some new technical lessons, and a bold result.

Thought for the day: 1A.) Do you ever wonder how much of life happens to you and how much you make happen? 1B.) What is the difference between Karma and Manifesting your Destiny? How do they coincide? Discuss.

11.30.06 | Desperately seeking vox

I got an email from Claire last night. On one line it read: "what's new and good?"

I had to think about that for a minute... Answer: So, I'm kinda sick of being alone, but I realize that since I am "with architect," I need to accept that fact and make use of this valuable surplus of "Ali time." The truth is, I'm tired of entertaining myself via knitting, developing a relationship with my dog, and patiently waiting for Season Two of Dharma and Greg to come out on DVD.

As of this week, the monthlies blew in along with the full moon. I've been feeling the need to bust out hugely, break free of my self-imposed financial restrictions, and freakin do something.

[insert: plea for friends to move to Boulder/Denver area]

And now, some ruminating tid-bits:

1.) My horoscope this week was as follows from the brilliance of Brezsny:
In one of Aesop's fables, a donkey becomes enamored of the crickets' serenades. Longing to produce the same sound himself, he goes to a cricket for advice. "What kind of food gives you that sweet-sounding voice?" he asks. The cricket says, "My food is the air and the dew." The donkey then begins a new diet, hoping that by eating nothing but air and dew he too will be able to make beautiful, whirring melodies. It doesn't happen, of course. The donkey merely starves. Let this be your teaching story for the coming week, Virgo. Sing your own song with your own voice, whether that sounds like a hee-haw or a warble. And get the exact nurturing that will help you sing your own song with your own voice, not the nurturing that helps others sing their special tunes.

2.) From an email, Nov 22, 06:

Ali,

I really hope you do find the time to ride, you know Ali, life is just too short to not do the things you really love and you really love riding and Arabians. You have always been a great rider.

Please make time for it, is there not some place you could go?

Love ya,
Teresa

2B.) I still got the rhythm. I just need to find that fancy little pony that needs a groovy little rider like myself. I can feel it coming, but it's a ways out there yet.

3.) So, I've started to make a small list of "Things I could be doing." This list includes, but is not limited to, the following:

1. yoga
2. running more
3. learning backgammon
4. meditating
5. reading
6. knitting bigger and better things
7. making playlists
8. looking for a cool horse to ride

4.) Perhaps not so oddly, I've started making a list of "Things I have in common with PY." It includes, but is not limited to, the following: A penchant for hooded sweatshirts, old t-shirts, and scarves; no piercings or tattoos; the undiagnosed yet lingering suspicion that one has OCD.

 

11.29.06 | a light that never goes out

Yesterday afternoon, the clouds started rolling in, and it started snowing last night. The flakes were still falling when I woke up this AM. The layers that blanketed the backyard and the sidewalks was thick and I knew that walking the dog was a long shot... so I opted for a morning shovel. A half an hour after I was done, you could barely tell what I had just done. So, after trying again to walk the dog at noon which turned into a bounce-bounce-spin-leap-snort-and-drag at the end of the leash, I ended up shoveling again so that the driveway would dry off in the midday sun. No sooner did I come back inside, did the sun disappear and the snow start to fall again. *sigh*

I kept having flashbacks to cold Wisconsin winter days which came blowing past in such a flurry that it got a strange sense of deja vu. But maybs it is just because I am on the brink of having a severe case of cabin fever and this one big snow day amidst the beautiful weather we'd been having seemed to put things in a better context. with this cold, 12 inches of snowy and the darkness at 4pm and the missing Kevin and my lack of readily handy vehicle and my lack of a local pal source, i'm starting to go a little nuts anyway these days. But, that's for another blog... or maybe, a cameo later in this one.

If Pete Yorn was in colorado today, he'd have needed a nice warm hand-knit hat...

So Monday night, Pepsi Center: PY indeed opened for the Chics of Dixie. The place was packed with urban cowboys and liberal cowboys. If you ordered a bottle of water, you couldn't have the bottle for fear that it would be used as a projectile towards the Dixie Chics. No Joke. You got a glass full of water with no lid that fit, so you pretty much had to slam it all right there since the potent potables couldn't be set down for fear of spillage. the Pepsi Center is the Corporation of all venues. It was huge and everything was staffed by People wearing PC uniforms. this meant that even the Merch booths -- all 6 of them -- were staffed by people whose blogs I'd never read before. My plan had failed before I got in the door.

When PY went on, half the stadium was seated. The set was great, full of many favorites, but about 2 ablums too short. It was like a teaser. A not-fair teaser. We were seated in the nosebleeds, stage left, so to top it off, the sound was unimpressive. BUt, I was singing along to the jingles all by myself as if I was listening to my iPod and having my own private party. I could see the key person in the PY entourage that I needed to meet for the hat hand-off walking around on the ground floor. "OMG, Kevin. There's Max!" I said excitedly. "Yeah, but you can't get down there," he said. Crushed, again. I feel silly for not even trying to get down there, or trying to sit closer to get better sound. What happened to my balls of steel from crushes past? Obviously, I'd left them at home with my chapstick.

So, with chapped lips, heart bummed, and a beautiful knit hat in my hands, I sat through the Dixie Chics until I couldn't take it anymore -- the noise, the people sitting next to us, the question I kept asking myself: did I really think my plan would work?

Yeah, I did. Why the hell not?

Perhaps, this is a mark of my level of cooped-up-ed-ness and fact that I've been spending too much time with myself lately. When lonliness creeps in, strange things happen and my sense of reality shifts since I my interactions and anchoring points of orientation with the world are lessened, severely. I'm not in a dark, cold, lifeless chamber by anymeans, but this aloneliness is starting to get to me. Or, maybe it's the fact that I haven't been running as much as this past summer, and I'm runnin low on runner's high. Regardless, I crave that. However, my chest has been aching, and something needs to give soon. I feel pregnant with pause, like the calm before the storm. Something needs to shift, to come out, erupt... blossom, take shape, seize the day.

I'm tired of living thrifily, yet the reality of financial well-being puts a short stop to superflous splurges. However -- next time, it's VIP parking and front row at the Pepsi center.

11.27.06 | Amalgam

amalgam (uh-MAL-guhm) noun: 1. A mixture of diverse elements 2. An alloy of mercury with another metal. [Via French and Latin from Arabic al-malgham (the ointment), from Greek malagma (softening agent).]

So, it's been a long time since I last wrote. Since then, I've been to Albuquerque and back, knit two hats, and found some ruminants to report on.

Here goes:

1. I need to Value Engineer the top choice of bling-bling I selected from the gallery last weekend. Apparently, I'm out of our price range

2. Quote: "Unless someone like you cares a whole awful lot, nothing is going to
get better. It's not." -Dr. Seuss, author and illustrator (1904-1991)

3. Must-see movie: Kinky Boots. British accents, red leather, drag queens, shoes. Need I say more?

4. Update: PY hat done. Plan ready to enact at 1900 hours MST.

5. Up next: The first installment of the Durango picts show-down. Click here for the fun.

11.18.06 | Faint of heart

Round about this time last year, I was suspecting diamonds to flow into my life, but I wasn't certain, just suspicious, and when I thought about it too hard, I started to get nervous. Not nervous for recieving a ring, per se, but nervous because of my suspicion was leading to an expectation, and I hate being let down when what I expect isn't there. Usually, I end up making an ass out of myself-- like that one episode of Dharma and Greg (Dharma's Tangled Web) where Dharma snoops through Greg's stuff and finds a pearl necklace, yet when Greg gives her a gift, it's not what she expects, and she reacts... unappreciatively.

a-n-y-w-a-y...

Last night, we had dinner to celebrate (early) our engagement anniversary at my most favorite restaurant, Leaf, with my most favorite waiter whom I have a high-school-like crush on (but this time, I keep hoping he's gay), and with my most favorite dessert, Leaf's pie. Last night's flavor was to-die-for-Pumpkin. I was stuffed by the sophisticated dinner of vegetables, and afterwards, we decided to take a stroll down Pearl Street. Lo and behold, just around the corner from Leaf, is my most favorite Gallery, Art and Soul, which has my most favorite jewelry creations, Experimetal, from my most favorite jewelry creator, Anne Sportun. Just my luck, the place was open and they were having a trunk show. I think I may have squealed with excitement.

All of the old favorites and stackables and new editions were on display, and it was as though there was one sales person per person to assist with the possibilities and take notes. It was fun. I never knew I would get a kick out of sparkly adornments, but these ones are on my "rock" list, just below Pete Yorn and organic cookies. I had found 2-3 options for ring #2, and of course the sapphire necklace that is so super fun, when all of a sudden I started to feel very light headed. By the time I knew what was happening, there was no coming to -- I just fainted straight backward, landing on my bum in the middle of the gallery. *Gawd* embarrassing. We were making jokes about Kevin fainting (!) but it turns out my blood pressure is lower, and the diamonds were overwhelmingly dazzling, and it was really hot in there. whew. Just for the record, no one made me feel embarrassed and everyone in the gallery -- whether they worked there or not -- were totally supportive. The girl who handed me a cold towel said: "I fainted once in a church in Ireland and they called me a heretic!"

I'm going to pick Kevin up from work later this afternoon, and we're going to head back there to narrow down some choices. Hopefully, it won't be such a dramatic experience.

In other news:
*Finn could have won the most adorable dog in Boulder contest this weekend, paws down. Not that there was one, but he was raking up a bounty of "cute" comments from people of all ages within the past 24 hours.

*I'm probably half-way through with my second felted bag project. This one should be bigger. Another gift.

*I want to knit PY a hat. I know that sounds a little crazy, but what the hell. How can I get it to him you ask? Well, I have devised a plan: I'll give it to his cousin, Max, who works the merch booth at all PY's shows. Since I'll be at the PY/Dixie Chics show on the Monday after Thanksgiving, that will be a good time to enact my plan. Devious, huh?

11.15.06 | varying shades of blue

Just another lonely night here in blog-land. It's 8 o'clock pm. If it was summertime, I would have just gotten home from run #2. Instead, I have more yarns to loop and Yorn to yearn for. He's in Aspen tonight. 3 hours away. All of my people work and aren't diehard Yorn-fans, and they have deadlines that take precidence over these things. Makes no sense to me. Oh, well. I get to see PY on the 27th in Denver (a 30 minute drive), and it better be flipping amazing.

I don't drink, really, but I have my favorites to sippy-sip. I feel like waxing poetic about them.

My first favorite wine was Conundrum, white. Loved it. I was first served this wine by my dear friend Claire at a dinner at the Bistro in Bozeman, MT. I had it again at Chico Hot springs (and later, later, at Flagstaff House Restaurant in Boulder, CO.) and I believe it is the closest I've been to being tipsy. I promptly fell asleep in our hotel room thereafter.

My second favorite wine would have to be another one I was introduced to while in Bozeman, this time at PLONK, the wine bar on Main St. La Yunta has Llamas on the label and is made by a woman wine maker in Argentina. It was white and lovely, and so was the company I had with it.

My third favorite wine (these are all in chronological order, thus far) would have to be the one Kevin ordered last Friday night at my most favorite restaurant, LEAF. Schlumberger Sirah was light and dry and wowsa. It would be nice to have at a wedding party...

Perhaps my favorite drink in the after dinner genre that I've had to date would have to be a (dessert) port that I savored at my dear friends Howard and Elizabeth's home. It was savory and sweet and berry-licious. It was some fancy name auf French, like Chateau d'Chem, but when I google that, It leads to a dead end. *sigh*

Finn gets a haircut on Sunday. Thanks be to Allah. He's super cute, but it's getting a little out of control.

11.14.06 | yawn, yarn, yorn

:) I finished my first felted bag tonight. It's a cousin's favorite color blue, which is what she will get for Christmas, since I drew her name. It's a simple little creation, was much easier than I ever thought to make, and quite smaller than I had hoped, but that was most likely my own doing, since I left it in cycle 2 of a hot load too long. I have all this time on my hands lately, and sunday was almost the epitome of being bored with myself, which is precisely why I ventured out and learned something new. Now, I'm starting on bag two, another gift. This time, Orange and Green.

I'm feeling the affectiveness of SAD almost profoundly -- but not near close to the point of needing prozac. I am ruled by the sunshine more than I ever thought, and it is a lucky twist of fate that I should land in Boulder, CO, where the it is a cold day in heck if we get more than 3 straight days of cloudiness and glum. the short days have me longing to hit the sack at 7pm (which admittedly, I've done on a number of lonely, SAD, bored nights).

Pete Yorn is in Vail, CO, tonight. It's only 2 hours from here, maybe less, but tonight the highway is closed due to an impending snowstorm of doom for all Yorn fans. Makes me feel not so bad about not going, since I couldn't have gone anyway. But, it will be such a good show, regardless. I can feel it. Man, I wish I could apparate.

11.13.06 | too hot

I was chatting with a client today about the beauty of the hottub. She has just gotten one installed over the weekend with a neck massager and a wine glass holder.

Ahhh, there's nothing better than a hottub when the snow flies and the temps drop. At the house I rented back in MT, we had a hottub. And we had a blast. We used it seasonally, and most especially at night when it was snowing. This is when it would be the most peaceful and enchanting. With the chunky snowflakes swirling down upon our bare heads, and the steam from the tub rising up to melt them in the air, we would accumulate snow on our noggins like snowmonkeys. most of the time, we didn't even care that there was no screen around the deck when we waddled out naked at night. I'm sure the neighbors didn't mind.

It was a blessed event after a day out on the slopes or the trail, and it allowed us to catch some rays even in the dead of winter. My Roomates and I developed a system that allowed us to bring our not-to-get-wet text books to the 'tub for some fun in the sun study intensives. I would sit out there on weekend afternoons and read Harry Potter and KA, two of my favorite reads (no doubt because of the experience of reading them and sitting in the hottub).

The hottub was a great way to make friends. I would say to the cute neighbor of mine, "hey, you should come over and hottub some time. Tubs always open." And, of course, there was always that rowdy bunch of friends who could turn any relaxing tub into a maniacle fit of spashes and laughter and rolling in the snow

11.9.06 | fodder for a blog

After a spell of dry weather and dry toughts here in Boulder, I think I may have rounded up enough fodder for a blog of pick-and-choose, nibble on this-or-that, take-it-or-leave-it proportions, chock full of the random goodness and golden nuggets that fall from web, into my inbox, or on to my table.

* This week's A.Word.A.Day selections included one that reminded me of my flouncy dog, and was especially apt for this mornings jaunt:

jounce (jouns) verb: To bounce along. noun: A jolting movement.[Of uncertain origin, apparently a blend of joll (to knock or bump) and bounce.]


* Since I don't subscribe easily to the traditional images of one abrahammic religion's main squeeze of toga-clad birkenstock wearing fame per se, and I know that worries some people who subsequently think I am a heathen, I found this little quote from Krishnamurti headlining my love letter from Rob B. today in my inbox and wanted to throw it 'out there' as an alternative view:

"Humans cannot come to Truth through any organization, through any creed, through any dogma, priest, or ritual, not through any philosophic knowledge or psychological technique. They have to find it through the understanding of the contents of their own minds, through observation and not through intellectual analysis or introspective dissection." -J. Krishnamurti


* In that very same love letter, I noticed a book that I should check out once I start reading again. A book to corresponde to Wm. James' "Varieties of the Religious Experience" in a transpersonal way: *The Unfolding Self: Varieties of Transformative Experience* by Ralph Metzner


* Earlier last week, in a late night fit of boredom, I was surfing my favorite waves of the web and found these fun little ditties which are too good not to share:

- A funny Drawing from Natalie Dee:
http://www.nataliedee.com/102906/if-you-dont-know-the-horse-girl-you-are-the-horse-girl.jpg

- Love Goddess Cake, from Vosges Haute Chocolate. "Aztec Elixir Chocolate Ganache Filling." Need I say more? http://www.vosgeschocolate.com/recipe_view/4

* And, last but certainly not least, I want to introduce y'all to The Elephant, an alternative little magazine published here in boulder that is slowly making its way national and is dedicated to the mindful life. Each issue is brimming with ebullience and radiance and glistening with enlightenment. The website is here: www.themindfullife.com If you go there, I'd check out Editor Waylan H. Lewis' blog at NewWest.

But here is an excerpt from the editors note from the latest issue. I write this because of the way I am ridiculed and called "obsessed" and "OCD" over the cleanliness of my homespace. I'll admit that, much like my mother, I like to see vacuum lines, and like my mom's side of the family, I don't like to leave things messy for more than a couple seconds. And, yes, that means shoes off (It's bad enough having pets in the house), and here's why:

From pg. 8, Tip #9: "Take it off, baby: Shoes off at the door reduces indoor air pollution by up to 76.483%. Studies have shown that air quality is often worse indoors than out, even on smoggy foggy hazy days -- due to household chemical cleaners, off-gassing paint and dirt, fecal matter and pesticides on the floor, courtesy of your Jimmy Choos or Chuck Taylors."

11.4.06 | snow in the toilet

This week proved to be a very varied week of fun and enjoyment and illumination. I had a much busier schedule than I had had the two weeks prior, which was nice for a change, but today, I'm ready for some 'me' time again, as I find myself loaded with things to do.

Monday, I had a much anticipated intuitive reading done down in Denver with a magnificent empath named Colete. The session was empowering, reaffirming, and clarifying and worth every penny. I plan to go back for hypnotism so I can stop biting my nails.

Tuesday thru Friday nights consisted of a lot of catching up and were full of dinners with Friends and a BHCA board meeting. Friday afternoon, I had avery productive meeting with a client out of the office, but was able to catch an incredible moment before I left the house: See picts below.

Today, we went snowshoeing with the same crew that hiked the Napali coast hike, aside from one satelite hiker who hangs out in Maui. Despite the lack of snow in the parking lot, we found enough on the trail worthy of snowshoes. I had a great sound track to the hike whick was heavy on the Pete Yorn. The "shuffle" algorithm was hitting the good stuff today and I was happy. I may be happier yet if I can round up some folks to go and see PY in Aspen on Nov. 15th. I have a feeling it will be an *amazing* show to foritfy me for the year ahead.

I knew that deep down, Ginger really liked her dog.

 

10.29.06 | sad but true

Architects are becoming "trendy." I'm not certain is this is due to the rise in popularity of inspired design and magazines like Dwell and catalogs like "Design within Reach," but i've noticed lately that in a triad of Netflix rentals and in-theater movies the featured profession of the characters is Architecture. There's something about that field, something beyond all the funny eyewear, that seems so glamourous. After witnessing the reality version of the field, I feel I need to set the record straight. These movies accurately portray the life of an architect. Be sure to keep track of notable themes if you happen to watch them all...

Click
Der Arkitekt
The Belly of an Architect
My Architect
Life as a House -- (as a last minute addition... just too good to miss)

 

10.28.06 | pixilated

I've seen various meanings of my name. I used to have a bookmark that said that Allison was of Irish derivation and meant "little truthful one," which is a meaning that has stuck with me. Aside from my more memorable exhibitions of brutal honesty and my academic quest in Religious Studies, I found it blazenly quirky, and of course timely, that Rob B.'s love letter to me last Wednesday was to be Truth-dressed-in-gray for Halloween this year. Gray is a very muddled and unsure -- yet sleek -- color, and an appropriate hue for Truth. Had I manifested this in costume, I fear it would have befuddled the trick-or-treating masses. But ruminating on the ashy candy corn of Truth/truths has made me consider a Ph.D in Philosophy. If only writing PHILS papers were as fun as writing for RLST.

This morning, we went snowshoeing. I knit a hat for my aunt Sandy on the way up to the trail and decided that I was going to bring my iPod with me once I hit the snow 'shoeing. I tucked my ear-buds under my hat, put my favorites list on shuffle and plowed full speed ahead. There was no stopping me. It was a beautiful day once we got into the trees and out of the wind. The sun came out, the sky was periwinkle and the powder was fresh enough for me. The coolest thing about the favorites list is that every song that randomly plays is a favorite song. It makes you wish that the radio was like that. 'Shoeing with my pink snowshoes and the iPod is fast becoming one of my favorite things like warm woolen mittens and brown paper packages tied up with string.

And, *ta-da* I would like to start training for a marathon, but I don't want to do it alone. (I'm getting bored with trying to entertain myself). It was suggested that I do the Boulder Backroads by more than one person. Not surprisingly, that is the one that I would prefer anyway. I would even do a half marathon. Would anyone want to run it with me? It would be about mid-September 07. Kevin said he would do it... but we'll see. I'll have to make it a competition for him to stick to that.

 

10.23.06 | where's the special K?

My dad sent me a scanned pic from a friend of his from Mondovi who also knows a friend of mine through another Mondovi connection. Small world. While we were at the Groom's dinner at the wedding in Milwaukee, we told our mexican-polish tablemate that we were from Eau Claire. "Wait," he said. "Do you mean Eau Claire-Eau Claire, or Mondovi?" Interesting question, I thought. Who the heck could live with themselves for living in Mondovi and saying they live in Eau Claire? That's not right...

Here's a pic of all of us (where's Kevin??) who were brought together by the six degrees of Mondovi. L to R: Reilly, Smalls, Jenno, Alski, Tim.

10.21.06 | off piste

From my pillow this AM, I could see 6-8 inches of snow along the top of the fence out the window. After some morning rituals and dillly-dallying, I decided on a pair of shoes (the uncomfy water-proof things or my running shoes) and headed out the door with a full-bladdered Finn. Consider this Snow Day, Part two. he bounced and leapt and dove into the snowbanks, sliding face first with a sudden stop of momentum on the other end of the leash. Then he'd lay there and roll around and push the snow around with his snush and rub his face in the powder some more. This happened on more than one occaision and interrrupted the run. In no time, he was full of snowballs to the point where I wasn't sure he could really see anything. This is what he looked like when he got home. The gentle leader was snow-balled onto his face:

Yesterday, over lunch, I went to Old Navy to pick up some pants at the fall sale rack. On my way to the checkout, there was this super cute dog blanket for $6 that I just couldn't resist. It was the only one left, the size we needed, nylon outside, fleece inside, refelctive piping along the edges and *a little hood with a zippered stuff pocket*. I could never make anything this cute for $6. I thought it was the best thing since Dharma and Greg on DVD. and I told myself that I needed to get out more. I was anxious to put it on Finn to see how cute it really was and I did just that when I got home. He wasn't crazy about the hood part, but the rest was OK until he got bored and started chewing on the velcro... Overall, I think it was a worthy purchase. Although, it doesn't help with keeping him anti-snowball. he needs a doggy onesie, like a wonderdog suit.

Stylin' Finnegan. Check out that reflective piping... sizzle.

Dog Eat Jacket? Check out that *CUTE* hood... OMG

10.20.06 | a blog about bananas

The new Women's Heath Mag came later this week complete with healthy-ish snacky-snack-delicious desserts. My favorite among these (so far) and by far the easiest to make, is the banana ice cream. It goes a little something like this:

Creamy Chocolate-Banana Ice

3 frozen-when-ripe bananas (unpeeled)
1 tsp cocoa powder
1/3 cup chocolate soymilk

Directions: put in food processor, put in bowl. yum. serves 2.

Here's my adaptation (serves 1 lonely chocolate-craving person): Put frozen banana in food processor with 1-3 heaping tablespoons of gormet hot chocolate mix and one cup of plain soymilk. blend. eat

 

10.19.06 | because I wanted a fish

I had these picts in my blog-images file, and they were begging to be put online.

Shaggy Finn, on the Fuuuton. Fall of '05. Thesis season.

Finn, on the couch. All soft-like after a bath. Late summer '05.

 

10.18.06 | felt up

I know I've blogged before about my most fabulous furry periwinkle purse... the one that even GUYS notice. (I'm holding it in the pic from the wedding 10.11.06). It is the handiwork of a dear Jenn. I commissioned her to create another one for a new mom's birthday. She was kind enough to send picts along the way, so I could see how it was turning out. Part of me feels that I owe it to her to drum up some more business for the cold, lonely winter nights ahead. Send me an email if you would like to order a felted bag of your own. I'll hook you up like the felted handbag pimp that I am.

This is what it looked like before the ruff and tumble in the washing machine's hot cycle.

*ta-da* This is the result. (Jenn added the 32 oz. Nalgene in the pic for scale).

Details, details.

 

10.17.06 | freshies

I finally replenished my late pair of snowshoes last night in an online bargain shopping spree. The new ones are pink. I don't know what I think about that. I considered buying a matching hat, but passed on the idea. This purchase was timely, too, 'cause the snow fell from mid-morning on. The flakes kept getting bigger. By the 5pm walk, there was plenty of fluff on top of the heavy slush of Boulder's first snowfall. Finn loved every minute of the snow which made for walk interrupted. Here's a haiku to capture the moment:

walking. cold and wet. whiteout.
snow angels...crazy dog.
Car stops, asks for directions.

And here's the soundtrack for the day:

"Snow" --RHCP
"Winter" --Joshua Radin
"Crystal Village" --Pete Yorn
"Listen to the rain" --Ryan Adams
"Available light" --Willy Porter
"Ice Age" --Pete Yorn
"January Rain" --David Gray
"Cold, cold heart" --Norah Jones
"Shut your eyes" --Snow Patrol
"Long December" --Counting Crows
"So damn lucky" --Dave Matthews

Kevin came home after a loong drive back from the Springs. Over dinner of vegetable bean chili with toasted challah bread, he asked some peculiar questions, for what I thought were simply for the sake of asking. They had the "what if" connotation to them. We've been asking those questions that are asked of coupled in pre-marital counseling sessions by clergy / rabbis / relatives. The questions posed to me by my fiance were primarily dealing with Religion. 1. If I wanted a Catholic wedding, would you do it? (A: It wouldn't be my first choice, but if it meant that much to you, I'd probably do it.) 2. Would you raise our children catholic? (A: If it meant that much to you that they learn the ins and outs of the Catholic faith, then sure. But you are talking to a Religious Studies Master Student here, so they will also learn about the rest of the worldviews on the Earth. They will not be limited to just one.) 3. What religion would you call yourself? Are you agnostic? Atheist? (A: neither. I don't align myself with a religious tradition. I appreciate them all and have no desire to join any of them.) 4. Well, Allison, What DO you believe? (A: [thinks to self] Did he really just ask me that question and expect a simple answer??...)

And so the conversation started. Well, I don't think it was really a conversation as much as it was an intimate lecture of sorts. I'll call it a lecture with room for interjected inquiries.... Nah, It was a personal spouting off at the mouth. I think I went on for at least a half hour, by the end of which, Kevin was overwhelmed and near passed out on the couch. I can't imagine that he would expect anything less than a lengthy ramble, honestly. In the 4.5 years that I have known him, he's taken little interest in what book I've had my nose in for almost the whole of my academic career. I thought I should expose him to the fragments that I subscribe to.

He asked about meaning: "But if you don't believe in something, what gives life meaning? If you dont' believe in something, isn't there just emptiness?"

oh, emptiness. I could wax poetic about emptiness...

I replied that "meaningful" was more important than meaning, than static belief: "It seduces you, holds your attention, keeps you coming back for more. It's always in flux, dynamic, moving, at play..."

And on it went. Statements. Questions. Discussion. Snores. I imagined this was almost like being a professor, and it really made me want to get my Ph.D. But as those thoughts linger, I learned that my K-dawg is having an existential crisis. I don't know what to about that, or how to help. This may take some soul searching while I reflect on what I needed in moments like that.

"Lets be laughing together this time next year" -- Chinese (?) proverb.

10.16.06 | daddy starbucks

I learned today from a dear friend that I could get Pete Yorn to play at my wedding party for $25k-$40k. A high price for rockin entertainment....but not surprising. The most surprising bit of this was that it was *actually* possible. my hope wasn't blind; my hope is just can't spoil itself with such luxuries.

I also learned today that I have no relation to the Schultz's of Starbucks fortune.

10.15.06 | Fill me up

i carry your heart with me
by e. e. cummings

i carry your heart with me (i carry it in
my heart) i am never without it (anywhere
i go you go, my dear; and whatever is done
by only me is your doing, my darling)
i fear
no fate (for you are my fate, my sweet) i want
no world (for beautiful you are my world, my true)
and it's you are whatever a moon has always meant
and whatever a sun will always sing is you

here is the deepest secret nobody knows
(here is the root of the root and the bud of the bud
and the sky of the sky of a tree called life; which grows
higher than soul can hope or mind can hide)
and this is the wonder that's keeping the stars apart

i carry your heart (i carry it in my heart)

10.11.06 | like a caterpillar in my Sunday pants

Last weekend, we were in Milwaukee for my step brother's wedding. (see pic below). It was a nice time. I got to see Smalls and Riley, learn smuggling techniques, meet my step brother's Mexican friend, go bowling with the post-groom's dinner crew, eat a really yummy scone in Greendale, visit the new wholefoods in Milwaukee, search for the Haute Chocolate of Milwaukee trips past, and go yarn shopping with dear Jenn-o. It may sound like much, but it was all low key, that is, if going home is ever low-key. Sometimes, I feel like I am pushed to the max without doing anything. Even running like 4-5 miles exhausted me more than usual (and there was plenty of air up there in WI...). Needless to say, i was spent by Sunday, and Monday was a challenge.

"Suffering is not holding you. You are holding suffering. When you become good at the art of letting sufferings go, then you'll come to realize how unnecessary it was for you to drag those burdens around with you. You'll see that no one else other than you was responsible. The truth is that existence wants your life to become a festival." -Osho

I remember my first canoe ride with Kevin. It could almost be called our first date looking back at it, but at the time we were trying to kid ourselves. Anyway, at one bend in the river, I remember him saying, "I think canoeing is making me stupider." That phrase was weighing heavy on my mind today, but in a different context. Now that I'm out of school and working, I feel as though my brain is sloughing, like part of it just isn't working as well as it used to. The part of my noodle that was developing for 7 studious years of collegiate learning is waning, and I'm worried about it. I'm learning new things, yes. Everyday. But, I loved what I spent so much time learning about. And now that Religious Studies is trendy, I feel like I should be using all that information. "How" is a good question I've been asking myself lately, followed by "when?"

This hit home today while I was working and was told to post a blog review on a site I put together. I read the blog to make sure it was indeed kosher, and then read the comments. Turns out, I had a major "vicious" spelling blunder that was glaring on one of the images that I re-created for the site. So much for being a proofreader. I'm going to start reading the Chicago Manual of Style and subscribing to more "word.a.days"... This just goes to show that I can't proofread my own stuff (as y'all can tell by my very own blog) unless I let my written words sit for a long time, or until someone blogs about it.

In other news, there are some products that have recently come into my life that have simplified things by their convienience. Regrettably, they are all made of plastic and will be around forever, even when they are out of my hands...but what can you do?

1. a litter critter crumb catcher, a.k.a. a litter mat. The great Ging' used to scatter her post-sandbox crumbs everywhere, but now, 90% of the debris stays in the litter critter closet.

2. an iTrip car adapter so that the iPod can be heard in the car to the entire car, and not just my little ears... Which I must say: sitting at the airport listening to a rockin song collection without singing along to the rest of the passengers ready to board the plane was a challenge. I was totally on the verge of having my own little party.

3. a new vaccuum. I've needed a new one for like 6 months, but I made the other one last for a long while, for numerous reasons. The time was finally up on the old one, and the new one rocks. I thought my old one was great for a $50 vacuum, and it certainly had served the past 4 years of it's refurbished life quite well, but it's amazing what a little vacuum technology can do. The carpet almost feels new again.
"Do you feel that?" I asked Kevin as I walked across the freshly vacuumed floor.
"What?" he asked.
"You don't feel the difference with this vacuum?" I replied. "It's like walking on air fluffed carpet. cloudlike..." I promptly recieved a look like I was crazy.

A scene from the wedding reception 10.7.06 (from left to right): Kevin, Ali, Deb, Jim, Janelle, Matt, Smalls, Reilly.

10.4.06 | a paucity of poetry

In Today's love letter from Rob B., he starts out with this quote:

"Run, my dear, from anything that may not strengthen your precious budding wings." Hafiz, translated by Daniel Ladinsky

and then, he tells me to dig into some juicy poetry... which is precisely what I need right about now.

On the site front, I am working on a new one: www.eco-writer.com

10.3.06 | cosmic giggles

What began as a very warm, overcast crunchy fall day with a sleepy noon hour and a strange vibe throughout, ended with the subtleness of two worlds colliding into 3 hours of laughter, thus resulting in a super groovy goofy delightful mood to off set the odd-ball strange dream cranky mood I woke up with. All is right with the world, now. I just finished watching all of season one of Dharma and Greg re-runs and knit a hat with stripes. Man, that show really adjusts my cosmic alignment more than any sermon from Catholic school ever did. Ala Rob B.: "Breathe in the love, Breathe out the jive." awe yeah.

oh, and I found this funky website that will turn anything into jive: www.gizoogle.com

10.2.06 | a variation on a theme of run

So, I'm still running. And, I'm still playing with my iTunes playlists. I found this great little ditty by Ben Kweller called "Run," and realized that it was right next to "Run" by Snow Patrol, and I decided to make a running mix, but not necessarily a mix for running...

Add to the aforementioned these namely picks: "Ready to Run," Dixie Chicks; "Born to Run," Bruce Springsteen; "Against the wind," Bob Seeger...

...and then I found this list: http://www.hulaman.com/runtunes.htm. I can't remember if I saw anything from the soundtrack "Run, Lola, Run," but it's a loooong list.

 

10.1.06 | Holy litter critters

I found these images today as I was looking through my files...and I decided to dedicate this to my yarn-crazed and beloved kitty, Ginger Snugglepants.

They are icons of St. Julian of Norwich and her cat. I found out about this as I was embarking upon human and animal studies for my MA topic. My friend Elizabeth had given me a note written on a recycled Christmas card. When I saw what the card was, I was delighted and thought it was a spoof, until an old mentor identified it for me as the mystic Julian and her pussy. Supposedly, even those living in splendid isolation back in the Middle Ages needed something to manage the rats while they were cloistered and saw the world hazelnuts. Regardless, Julian and her cat have been portrayed in a variety of forms. The fact that the feline has been depicted means that Julian's cat bore some sort of historical significance to certain artists:

 

9.25.06 | Dates and raisins

Here are some recent developments:

The ipod has donned the name of Alfie. (who knew you could name these things?)

The late breaking news is that we have finally set a date. September 2, 1997. The Sunday of Labor Day weekend. It will be held here: www.rembrantyard.com and there will be ice cream and cookies and kahlua and a keg and my ipod and and a great view and flowers from the farmer's market and many of you (I hope) if you're up for it. But, if not, *believe me*, I totally understand. I have to think of it as a big party (like the bonfires that we used to have at New Years Eve when we lived out at the ranch growing up) or I start to twitch and look like Edward Munsch's "the scream." We'll probs send out a save the date with out holiday letter, but the best part will be the invites: y'all will be in charge of the decorating the RSVP, whether you'll be there or not. Then we can display them all at the gallery. Draw-wrings. Heck yes. The one voted the best, will recieve a knitted door prize. just kidding.

In other news, I took some graduation picts over the weekend for my friend Abbie and her doggie Luna. You can check them out on my photography page.

9.24.06 | cry towel

In the September issue of Women's Health (the first issue of this magazine that I have been impressed with), there is an article called: "Why We Cry." This intrigued my fascination about tears, so I read it and wept. This article is poised to be written by a woman who apparently can't fight back the tears at the certain time of the month, and she seeks to explore an explanation.

It said that women cry when they are sad, frustrated, or angry. Whereas men cry at major losses. When they get frustrated, they just get mad. (Haven't we all seen this?)

Here's the link between tears and emotion:

"But the nerves in the cornea also reach higher in the brain, into the cerebrum, and that's where emotional tears -- the kind you shed watching Titanic -- get their start. When Jack Dawson dies, you feel sad. Your sorrow is registered in the cerebrum, which signals the endocrine system to release hormones that travel to the eyelid glands and generate tears. It's no coincidence, it seems, that the cerebrum is also the part of the brain that controls speech. Crying is a form of communication, likely the earlist form, and certainly the one we use first."

The reason the article cites for why we cry when we're sad vs. when were curious is a weak one. Tears relieve our turmoil "by refocusing our attention from the mental to the physical." (I however heartily disagree since the physical and the mental are really all in one nerve connected space...)

oh, and there's more -- this relates to how I felt about tears and music:

"An English Scientist who set out to determine what sort of music makes us cry found we tear up when a grace note delays the return to the tonic -- the base note in a scale. We know what we expect from a melody. When our expectations are thwarted, we weep. If there's any constant to crying, it may be that our bodies and minds seek a return to balance, an equilibrium. When a baby sobs for its mother, when a teenager weeps at a friends betrayal, or a woman mourns her dead husband, the common thread is a longing for happiness once had but lost. Tears are our response to life's unfairness. We cry to try to make things right."

My question: What about happy endings?

Two books cited in the piece were Crying: The Mystery of Tears, by William Frey; and Crying: The Natural and Cultural History of Tears, by Tom Lutz.

9.22.06 | May I Feel Said He

So... we may have found a super spot in Boulder to celebrate being wedded.

www.rembrantyard.com

The Rembrant Yard is this freshly rennovated art gallery on the corner of 13th and Spruce in downtown Boulder. Artsy, fartsy, fresh, contemporary...Pleasantly different. And, best of all, surprisingly affordable and not booked through 2008. We're going to go check it out tomorrow after work. Kevin's been to a party there before, and he's actually the one that thought of it. And, he's actually the one that wants a big party. I just want some killer desserts. He's almost being a girl about it. I just tease him.

9.21.06 | dreams really do come true...

No, I didn't get to make out with Pete Yorn. No one paid off my student loads, either. But this is even better... I've been waiting for what seems like for-ever... and I never ever thought this would ever ever happen:

DHARMA AND GREG IS ON DVD!!!?!

I just bought a copy. I'm going to upload them all onto my ipod! I'm SO excited! This is going to be such a kick-ass year!

9.20.06 | 26

I have officially completed 26 successful journeys around the sun. for the past few years, my birthday has always been wrought with subtle emotions that bubble up to the surface and make for a pretty meloncholy day. this year was no different as far as birthday's go. It was certainly a good day in many instances, there was nothing wrong or bad about it, but my feeling was one of "blah." LIke, "this is a special day, yet why is it seeming so ordinary?" ...which is precisely why I celebrate for two flippin months...

Kevin got me an iPod (which he is very excited about). I've been uploading songs for two days straight. It's been nice to re-visit all those bootlegged CDs I have, like a trip or two down memory lane as I recognize the handwriting of each of the friends that burned me copies and mixes. Kevin got it engraved, too, which I had no idea was a possibility. It says: My love for you is mixed throughout my body. I think I insulted him when I asked if that was one of the choices for etchings on the apple site. Once I googled it, I learned that it came from anonymous Egyptian women's lyrical poetry, and was duly impressed with it's fitting nature.

9.17.06 | the sacred symbolism of the circle

I bought another URL today... because I couldn't resist the possibility of the possibility that it might be a real, big thing some day. I have always wanted to open up an organic cookie store called 'manifest cookies.' I'm not getting any younger, nor did I want someone else to snag my idea, so I grabbed www.manifestcookies.com from the domain name cookie jar. I even drew the logo this AM while I was talking to my aunt Dee about "weddings"...

The cookie place I want to harvest someday came to me, if I remember correctly, from class. I can't trace it to one class specifically, but I have a funny feeling it came from the hindu tantra course I took, having something to do with the 'magic' powers of tantra, among those being manifesting. I developed these theories of manifesting cookies further when I started to look into the history of enso, or the perfect circle of Zen:

"The Zen symbol "supreme" is an enso, a circle of enlightenment. The Shinjinmei, written in the sixth century, refers to the Great Way of Zen as "A circle like vast space, lacking nothing, and nothing in excess," and this statement is often used as an inscription on enso paintings. The earliest reference to a written enso, the first Zen painting, occurs in the Keitokudento-roku, composed in the eighth century....Thereafter Zen circles became a central theme of Zen art. Enso range in shape from perfectly symmetrical to completely lopsided and in brushstroke (sometimes two brushstrokes) from thin and delicate to thick and massive." taken from the online Shambala Zen Art Gallery.

But the symbolism of the circle doesn't end there, it barely begins there. It is scattererd in the nooks and crannies of the world's religious cultures. Thanks to Dan Brown's efforts, perhaps you may be most familiar with it as a symbol of the divine feminine. (oh, and it doesn't take too long to figure out why the circle is the token representation... let your mind go towards the gutter just an eeensy bit.) Circles are also cosmic symbols. and Cookies are circles. using common analogical logic, this means that we can exhault the cookie into a transcendent space for being the exemplar of enlightenment, among other things. I'm not talking church cookies. I'm talking chocolate chip and Bridger peak and chocolate-ginger galore. They'd be vegan, cause vegan cookies are truly the best. It would be so fun. I'm still looking for investors...

9.16.06 | grilled cheese & tomato soup

Fall blew in today. I had a beautiful long morning walk in the stillness of the day, and then it came in gusts. I don't like the wind that much. It zaps all my energy, even if I'm inside. and it sucks to run in. And, the horses hate it. And it sucks to put hay out in the wind, not that I have done that for a while. By afternoon, it subsided enough to meet a friend for a hike, but I returned cold and shivering and wishing I had white bread and cheese. This was grilled cheese and tomato soup weather.

I got some new kickers right after we got back from Bozeman. I had had the "old" Asics since the beginning of June, and they wore out a little too fast. The new ones have a different feel, and some days, I think they are faster.

On Friday, I bought a URL. I'm not sure why I felt so compelled buy another one -- one certainly has been enough so far -- but I guess I thought I'd prepare if I needed to expand or ever ran out of auspicious projects to do. Instead of buying a new pair of snowshoes, I bought www.snowshoerendezvous.com instead. (Waaay cheaper.) I don't know what exactly I will do with it yet, but it's nice to have around. I posted a temporary page that was kinda nice to look at, but was totally sans snow. I learned yesterday, that I have no snow pictures to go along with not having any snowshoes. But hopefully, all that will change, sooner than later.

Friday night, we saw the movie, The Last Kiss. I don't know why, but I love Zach Braff. And the soundtrack truly rocks. This film is better than the Italian version that preceeded it..


9.13.06 | Miles to go before I sleep

Oh, whadda day.

It's been almost non-stop since 7am. I woke up itching for a run, and hoped that Finn would be too. He's been meeting these chilly mornings with vigor, and he rose to the occasion by bounding and leaping about 2 miles with me. Then, it was all work and no play once I sat down for the day. I did get a little break in over lunch to mail some hats out (that always makes me feel good) and to taste test the latest ice cream flavor at the best ice cream store in the Rockies. Huckleberry &Pistachio. Mmm, mmm, good.

The day began, really, with Rob's little love letter in my inbox, which proved to be the case for today (and also reminded me of a recent event that happened to a dear Jenn when it came to "taking care of business."):

"VIRGO (Aug. 23-Sept. 22): There was one main reason why America's founding fathers gave Thomas Jefferson, not Benjamin Franklin, the job of composing the Declaration of Independence in 1776. They were afraid that Franklin, a compulsive teaser and trickster, would slip jokes into the document. In my opinion, we Americans would have been better served if Franklin had been chosen and allowed to mess around. After all, even the most profound commitments and weighty situations benefit from the leavening power of humor. Keep that in mind during the oh-so-serious games that are ahead for you, Virgo." (ala Rob B. 9.13.06)

Ah, yes. Thanks, Rob, for confirming the way I feel about taking things seriously. Not only in regards to work, but especially in respect to all this wedding planning schizzo. I mean, really, does a party need to cost more than $5k? I don't think so. I'm sure this is why people don't think weddings are a laughing matter. But for some reason, I still do. I'll cry and all that jazz even if it's not my own, but Geez Cripes, weddings get everyone in a tizzy...*which is why 'me no likies'* namely because tizzy's are not pleasant. I keep checking places out, and getting rates, etc., but it's never good enough for everybody. (Even though I am told to do what I want to do and not think of everybody else…). So, the plan of the day is to skip the party at the Boulder Teahouse or at Chico Hot Springs. I figure that if I wait long enough people will forget that we never had a party.

I took Finn out for his evening walk, which turned into another run, and then I had a date at the yoga studio which was much needed, as my aching back had been asking for yoga for the past 2 weeks. It was good, but intense. I kept thinking of those lyrics from the new RHCP album, track 8 off the Jupiter disk:

TORTURE ME AND TORTURE ME
IT'S FORCIN' ME SO TORTURE ME
TORTURE ME WITH SORCERY
IT'S FORCIN ME SO TORTURE ME

I am only up because Kevin said he would have another late night at OZ. So I ate dinner after Yoga at 9 so I could stay up until 12 to work on some stuff, too. Kevin came home at 10. *what the...?* And here I am, still clacking away... thinking of Robert Frost poems about snowy fields and all the work I have on my plate at work and with the newsletter and the dog needs to be brushed, oy.

Here's some more randomness for this post: Oh, you lucky Scorpios... Columbus Day may be a month away, but this happens to be my most favorite hysterical-historical tid-bit:

"SCORPIO (Oct. 23-Nov. 21): In his book *Making Sex: Body and Gender from the Greeks to Freud ,* historian Thomas Lacquer suggests that the clitoris may have been unknown to male anatomists until 1559. In that year, Renaldus Columbus, a professor at the University of Padua in Italy, announced his discovery of the "seat of woman's delight," and declared his right to name it the "sweetness of Venus." I predict that you will soon ferret out and begin to share in a treasure that, while not quite as momentous as Columbus', will nonetheless fill you with glee--even if its value has always been known to its original finders." (ala Rob B. 9.13.06)

Adds a whole new meaning to "Columbus Day," eh?

On my way to Yoga class tonight, I heard this amazing song that made me wish I was not driving, or that I could write better while I was driving. When I heard the first refrain, I did a double take and instantly thought of Kevin. I decided that this was his song, especially his morning and weekend song:

"If I lay here | If I just lay here | Would you lie with me and just forget the world?" -- Cars Crashing -- Snow Patrol, off the "Eyes Open" album.

I have added it to my wedding party mix. And, speaking of wedding parties, although I may not have PY pla