::macro-me-dia macabre::

why doth thou hate me, macro-me-dia?
thrice i've tried, and thrice you've lied
my trial download of dream-weaver
is but in my imagination
for that "unexpected end of file" error
haunts my spectacles

so rushes of inspiration
desirous of revamping the 'muse
will wait
for
a later date
when more patience abounds
and laundry doesn't overflow
into the hallway

::a walk-it man::

there is this man. i saw him this afternoon. sometimes, i see him in the morning on my way to work. he is ever walking, walking, walking. he wears a tight, shiny, athletic purple shirt and shiny, black biker shorts. he carries a 1/2 gallon carton of sparkletts in his right hand. his backpack is a permanent fixture on his shoulders.

and, i wonder of him, as i do of myself: where is he going?

::take five::

no typos, no typos! type fast!

5 minutes here before buzzers start ringing downstairs. i am cooking dinner: jerk chicken, rice, cookies (!) and a vegetable. i haven't decided what vegetable because they don't take that long so i haven't bothered to make up my mind.

what a crazy, insanely busy day! i made it to the gym (that's #3 in 3 weeks, but i'm getting more serious since i got an ipod mini: yeah!), did grocery shopping and didn't get any sweets, came home, relaxed for an hour, then started cooking dinner. my brain is pretty much a flashing blank screen at the moment, i am that much the proverbial chicken sans head.

got one of those spoofed emails from "paypal", sent to an email address that i don't have a paypal account on in the first place. very strange. i reported it. then i went to the spoofed site for fun and it was down. funny, eh?

time's up!

::duchovny defies da mind::

you just wouldn't believe how excited i got as i turned to the most recent "blogs of note" column, which is viewable here on blogger to its users on the home page after logging in to the site. i saw the words "david duchovny" and just about had an epileptic fit. clicking on the link, i was transported to his site.

much like zach braff's garden state blog, duchovny has turned his attention to the blogging masses in order to promote his feature film, house of d. i can't tell you (but i will) just how proud i am of those guys (acting like i know them personally?). and, props to david for posting audio entries: i had to play them to know if it was bona fide. because, you know, last year someone started an andy kaufman blog. it was fun, at first, then a bunch of mean people posted rude & obnoxious comments and our creative fellow swifly bowed out. it was unfortunate, but there are fakes out there. i am so impressed when stars put pretense aside (assuming they have any in the first place, but i say that as one who lingers on the sidelines in awe) and reveal their humanity: typos or blunderingly uncomfortable audioblogs invite the everyday joe in for a peak at their secret world. it's wonderfully brave and, in duchovny's case, i hope for a warm reception when house of d hits theaters.

that's april 15.

i'm now off to poke around on uci's website and figure out what my double major will be. or double major and a minor. man, the soul just wants to do it all!

::can you still feel?::

ah yes, title inspired by the Jason Falkner.

i started out my drive to class this evening listening to the doves newest album: some cities. and i thought to myself ok, it's the first listen. but nothing's grabbing me. where's the heart? haven't you done all this before, doves?

then, i crested the 73 at the toll plaza. the sun was setting and the clouds looked magificent through my slightly brownish-red tinted prescriptive sunglasses. and the drummer drummed down deep into my soul and stirred my indifference as "walk in fire" invaded my speakers. (ok, josh just killed me with his comparison to "last broadcast", but i'll resist my desire to cringe. I Love This Song!) the suset came alive at this moment. i took in the gorgeous newport coast on the horizon and revved up to 75, despite seeing one highway patrolman.

music excites me, to a fault, when i drive. the two will always go hand-in-hand, make me squirm in my seat with excitement, and increase my chances of earning a speeding ticket. i would pass another chp before exiting at bison, where i would have to cue up the track for a second listen and admire the sky painting in my rear view mirror.

coming home, i couldn't help but think of the impact john adams' chairman dances is secretly having on modern-day music. the repetitive nature of the percussion chosen to underscore the song speaks strongly to me, hailing back to my former studies as a music major. it's very minimalist, and that is something i am deeply attracted to: the groaning, droning of chords as a constant theme, changing little from chord to chord, but altogether forming a gorgeous, swimming tune. it just sings to my inner child in the deepest corners of my mind. such brilliant wanderings in music! i could just SING!

::and a one, two, three...::

i just finished typing over 1600 words and now for the revision process. i'm so relieved that "due by sunday" means "in by midnight" to most of my classmates. not that i intend to stay up as late, but so far only one of the chosen ones for this week's class-wide critique project has emailed her work to us. which steathily remains unopened in my inbox because i have to nail this my piece down tonight.

it feels amazingly good, even in this rough stage that my short story is in. loosely based on real events, it is my first fiction as an adult. if you are interested, i just might email it to you. if you ask nicely. after midnight.

in other news, we scored tickets to U2 in november care of ebay this weekend. yeah, ebay! yeah, U2!

::i will wait::

for some time now, this part of me has wondered what it would feel like to be on blogger's Blogs of Note. the influx of traffic. the comments box filling with compliments and rants about my good/bad writing. the general sense of euphoria that would overcome my being as i proudly open my inbox and sift through pages of fanmail. and now, that day has finally come!

oh, wait, it didn't. but in the same turn i've recently been invited to be part of an elusive writing group, being that i've only recently come out of the closet and admitted I Am A Writer. and i cannot begin to express how good it feels to be part of something that will encourage me in said writing endeavors. i am honored and pleased and flattered and touched. and, yeah, maybe i can do this writing thing after all.

that, folks, is the sound of one hand clapping.

::i heart jon brion::

how i wish it wasn't raining right now! it drowns my hopes of cruising up to LA for a peak at jon brion's world at the largo pub. you see, what's gotten under my skin, what has me all sixes and sevens, ready to forego the long stewing corned beef in my crockpot for dinner in order to watch the genius at work, is the soundtrack to i heart huckabees.

jon brion innovates the music industry with each new score he composes. his approach is sparse, minimalist, and rythmic. yet, he's a songwriter as well, and his tunes are heartfelt and pleading, so tender and plainly honest. what he writes is moving, and so accurately accompanies the film that you'd think the two ideas, plot and score, were birthed from the same brain, a marriage of pure instinct.

even if you didn't "get" the movies...all that existentialist blithering was a real throwback to high school studies of camus and kafka. almost too much to stand. except that i couldn't help but feel its brilliance and humorous sarcasm. nonetheless, fan or not of the film, you have to "get" this sondtrack if you have the tiniest affection for instrumental music.

as for me, it's off to dinner. *sigh* i heart jon brion.

top 3 favorite themes: Strange Bath (#3), Coincidences (#6), You Learn (#8)

::i wish i could poetry::

the art of writing/analyzing poetry is a mystery to me: i've quickly forgotten all i ever learned in high school about the stuff. but my interest has been piqued yet again. and yet again i struggle with Career Choices. do i lean on literary journalism (creative nonfiction) for a major, or do i more broadly take the stance of starving creative writer extraordinaire? that would be the "comparitive literature" road, i believe. at least, that's what the bulk of writers i've surveyed (not many, mind you) seem to focus on.

but poetry, wow, i just invested a small fortune at borders as i filled my basket with billy collins and diane diprima. i almost got a book of poetry by charles burkowski, but i tallied the figures and decided i didn't really need to drop another $20 on books.

getting back to poetry.... it really is an amazing medium of communication. how do I poetry? well, it's mostly, er, always been free form. and it's always exploded onto the page in a fit of emotion. when i poetry, it's as though i have no control over the composition and it pours out of me. admittedly i've never returned to a piece to edit it, but i have good intentions. i suppose it's because i've never tried, not that i haven't been given the opportunity. my dear kidchamp is a willing tutor. unlike prose, though, it's a deeper, more emotional task to reform what was written in the heat of a moment. i digress though. instead, here is a recent favorite. written by not me.

The Window, Diane DiPrima

you are my bread
and the hairline
noise
of my bones
you are almost
the sea

you are not stone
or molten sound
I think
you have no hands



this kind of bird flies backward
and this love
breaks on a windowpane
where no light talks

this is not time
for crossing tongues
(the sand here
never shifts)



I think
tomorrow
turned you with his toe
and you will
shine
and shine
unspent and underground

::walking away::

Teeth clenched hard against her thoughts
She stammered, sputtered, sighed and turned her back
"One. Two. Three," she counted in her native tongue
sand gravel baby
One. Two. Three.
Go climb a Tree
Make it stop maybe
The crying, always the crying
One. Two. Three.
Teeth clenched hard against her thoughts
sand gravel baby
The turtle withdrew its limbs in suspicion of the rain and slept.

i owe the creation of this poem to my 10 classmates who helped me through it, one line at a time. and, i thank you all for laughing. it was a fun ride, wasn't it?

::up too late::

it's really awful that i'm up this late, stressing over housework in preparation for our windows to be cleaned inside & out. what's worse are late night television informercials. all i was looking for was some background noise to quiet my thoughts and keep me company as i folded the laundry. what i got was yoga booty ballet. i am completely frozen for about three minutes, jaw to the floor. coming to, i quickly scan for something else, passing up tony danza's australia day celebration (he has a talk show? kinda cool...), and ending up with an episode of x-files that i don't remember seeing, despite the fact we own seasons 1-8. humm. mulder & scully. life is good. even night life.

::banking is...life?::

unreconciled bank statements have been breeding in my closet. one and one makes three, and i'm pouring over quicken trying to sort it all out. thank God for computers, really. otherwise i'd certainly be here for days.

some know already that i work at a bank. therefore, amongst all Americans, i should maintain the most perfect account of my, er, accounts. say it ain't so! it's not, really, any more likely that the clerk helping you at the grocery store knows that much more about cooking, so stop it already! needless to say, this post is my half-heatened attempt to free my mind of the burgeoning numbers and bills and debits and credits.

perhaps the most glorious invention in the wide-world of debtors is Automatic Bill Pay. AH! such a pleasant ring to that phrase! because of this wonderous creation, i have been able to rest easy on my checkbook-balancing-avoidance: everything is already set to be paid ON TIME. with that nifty overdraft protection in place, and my neurotic tendancy to check my balance each and every (work) day, i am safe. yeah!

i don't recommend putting off this task to anyone, however, and this post is not meant to justify my laziness. still, i haven't died or been hauled off to prison because of my lack of attention to the matter. for this, i tell you, i am extremely grateful. it is important these days to monitor your money by all means possible in order to guard against Fraud and Identity Theft.

on that note, i leave you with these instructions. go & watch some of those citibank identity theft commercials: poignant and absolutely hilarious. those actors deserve emmys, i tell ya!

::bee in my bonnet::

what moves me more than anything in this world (a huge, all-encompasing statement, i realize), is music. you might even venture to say that i am a gourmand of the stuff. i will easily gobble up most every type of music you put on my plate. i have my preferences, of course, but music is the most powerful medium in the world of the arts.

what has been enjoying a delicious trip on my tongue for at least 48 hours is the latest release from tori amos: the beekeeper. oh my gosh, the flavors swirling in my mouth have been so sweet, so savory, so sensual. i am moved to the core of my being (have i over-used that phrase yet?). she makes me wanna dance in my car. and, coming home from my midterm last night, after enjoying a five minute scream-fest in the privacy of my car from the pure explosion of math within in my brain (6 straight hours of pouring over word problems, probabilities and formulas which were beginning to make my eyes bleed!) i was spotted singing along to witness by some neighborhood folk out walking their golden retriever. did i mention it was almost 10 o'clock at night? oh, how i had been screaming! oh, the glorious relief of the torture!

such a beautiful feast, this plate of tori amos records at my fingertips! certain songs on this most recent creation are so distinctly from her kitchen: barons of suburbia with the characteristic syncopated triplets of her Bosendorfer and Matt Chamberlain is, of course, the stock holding it all together. but she's spiced up various tracks with B3 Hammond organ, or the carlos santana-esque groove on sweet the sting, the gospel tendancies and lazy (not weak) vocals of witness, and That Bass Drum on martha's foolish ginger. not to mention the crazy pairing of bassy damian rice singing in unison with tori on the power of orange knickers: i think i'll actually go to the store today and buy some carrot-colored panties, i have been thusly moved in such varying degrees to believe in their clout. does this mean i won't get my writing assignment done in time for class this evening? or that i may "forget" to show up for class? um, no.

the beekeeper: it tastes so good--pull up a chair and bring your fork!

::temporarily out of service::

yep, the midterms are coming up. oh! and i've promised to write a short story for class in the next 5 weeks. that said, and with spring in the air and plenty of gardening to be done (not to mention "spring cleaning" 'round the house), i'm going to bid my readers farewell for the month of march. if the opportunity arises and i am thus inspired, i certainly intend to write. however, amidst the halfway point at school and looming responsibilities around the house, i feel the need to take some time off. see you soon!

::(insert title here)::

before leaving the house, i checked my email. in it, i learned that our uncle daryl passed away last night. once again, the numbness hits. as does the regret: too little, too late. there's just so little time here. and we get so busy, so caught up in our personal affairs, that we neglect to spend time with the ones we love. daryl was a wonderful man. and he loved our aunt laurie so much. she was truly the happiest i have seen her with him. i say that having only known her since the time i was ushered in to josh's family, which happened long before we were married. aunt laurie had less time with daryl than i have had with josh, which makes me cringe. what did i do to be so lucky? why do i deserve such kind treatment? honestly, it's life. i'm not in charge. i wish there was a way i could have extended their time together, though. again, they loved each other so much. i'm not in the frame of mind to delve in the "why's?" and the "it's not fair", not right now. no, not right now. but i'm at war with myself right now, not God. i wish i could go back in time. but again, it's not too late to start with the family and friends i still have in my life. and that's where i need to be, that's what i need to channel my energy into.

in unrelated news, i was late for work again today. i feel so stupid.