11 dec 2012

without further ado, my 101 in 1001 is officially completed. items #52 and #99 beg audience participation: please weigh in with a recommended book/movie in the comments. i reserve the right to choose a previous referral, as some of you weighed in on that before my bunionectomy.

getting this list exactly where i wanted it took a great deal more time than i anticipated. i intended to start last month, having already chipped away at a few intended items...i experimented with a fresh sugar pumpkin on election night by baking up a batch of vegan pumpkin scones. then on thanksgiving i cooked up a delicious caramelised cranberry apple sauce by the passionate gordon ramsay. for the first time i cooked with caster (baker's) sugar, star anise, and cardamom pods. well, my friends, let the cooking experimentations continue! i have thoroughly enjoyed myself and number 74 will certainly open my eyes to more possibilities.

here we go!

16 nov 2012

i'm roughly 21 items away from completing the list of 101 things to do in 1001 days. it's much harder to put together this time than the last one i did several years ago. i'm more aware of the amount of money and time it will take to complete some of the tasks. i want to choose things that i'm interested in and able to do. i also want to avoid the appearance of a giant "to do" list; these are things that i want to accomplish in my life for the sake of improving the quality of life. so, bunion surgery? that went bye-bye. speaking of which...

anyone out there have something to say about this? i could google my heart out, but i'm scheduled to have the surgery in less than two weeks now and am having second thoughts. my primary concern as of today is the fear that i won't be able to be as active as i'd like because this surgery will become a detriment to my body, limiting flexibility of the big toe and putting added pressure on the knee of the opposite leg. while i appreciate the idea of being well-informed and well-researched in something as potentially major as this, i do know how impacted i am by my fear and don't want that to drive my decision. 

so, thoughts/experiences about bunion surgery? podiatrists: real or not real?* recovery time? impact on normal activity post-surgery, 3-6 months later? impact on the kind of shoes you wear compared to pre-surgery? i am looking to where shoes without pain and even walk barefoot without pain, which i experience in both feet. it is probably more regular than i care to admit: i've been living with it for a long time. i'm not dying to get in a pair of fancy heels, but i would like my shoe choice to be a little more flexible--sometimes even flats drive me crazy.

i thank you in advance for your frank discussion.

*it was brought to my attention that podiatrists do not go to medical school. however, i've gone to chiropractors in my lifetime--that may or may not be a mark against them.

04 nov 2012

pointing out the devastation from hurricane sandy, i was recently asked if i still wanted to move to new york city.

"absolutely," i said.

i'm no new yorker. born and raised on the west coast in sunny southern california, i'm the furthest thing from it. but i fell in love with the city on my first trip roughly a decade ago and my affection has grown with each subsequent trip. there's something about being there that runs deeper than the words i have at my grasp.

click here to donate via the red cross.

31 oct 2012

i've spent a couple of hours in the blog-o-sphere, tweaking and fine tuning. i'm tired and still feel compelled to write, which may result in non sequiturs or brilliance. perhaps its the anticipation of NaNoWriMo, which may or may not happen this year. i've made attempts in years past, but at my best i only progressed one-fifth of the way there. still, if things could line themselves up, this year is the year to make it happen. i have no classes (tomorrow's final wraps things up until january).

halloween was over-anticipated this year. two bags of candy filled a large glass bowl and overflowed into a pot; one crowd of kidlets ventured to the door. my roomie played scary music and there was ghoulish decor. alas, now we have a boatload of sugar screaming to be eaten in the entryway. most of that pile is coming with me to work. i'd rather sweeten up the customers than have butterfingers and snickers copulating in my tummy.

30 oct 2012

it's been some time since i've endeavored to blog. there's something stirring inside that leads me back here. driven to write, to create. it feeds my soul.

i've been adrift for roughly five years. exploring the new space i'm carving out around me. i've met new people, experienced new things, gotten stuck in ruts and pulled myself out. repeatedly. i made the decision to start fresh here at the 'muse. out with the old, and in with, well, what you see here. 

first order of business? i'm working on a 101 in 1001 list (such as this one). i'm barely a tenth of the way there. feel free to throw some suggestions in the comment box: books i should read, movies worth watching, things worth doing/seeing/eating/making/learning. 

here i go again.

it's been one week

since returning from paris and london and oxford i find myself mostly changed. i feel like the experience of showing up in a foreign country with nothing but the clothes on my back and cameras and prescriptions in my bag has worn me down into a woman who needs 2 or 3 changes of clothes and some deodorant in order to be happy. it also makes me want to cut my hair (it's so long now!). these are all wonderful, good things. i caught myself watching "project runway" simply because they were in paris and it feels good to say that i have been there.

i keep waiting to have something truly brilliant to say about our journey. to be struck by a string of eloquent words that capture the experience with such perfect trueness that it transports me back to that place & time. or the reader. instead, i search iTunes and land on "ok computer" and my insides become shaken & stirred in a martini of memories. ok, that was only chosen for the alliteration, as i realize martinis & memories have little to do with each other. my apologies.

i'm quitting my job. the 20th is my last day. after much painstaking dodging of the subject matter and seriously long bouts with "chick-foo" (aka, the former, in the form of small hints and crying spells and lots of chocolate) josh finally summarized my confusion (work AND school AND piano? i'll go insane! i don't really want to stop taking piano lessons...). hitting the nail on the head, the option became "so quit your job" in an outburst that warmed my heart and made me shameful for not being one hundred percent completely honest in the first place. he's a good man, charlie brown, and i'm the lucky one to have him as my life-long companion.

and now i must play piano.

it was the best of times, it was the worst of times...

to steal a phrase from dickens, i think i now understand it fully. we returned yesterday evening (or rather, very early this morning) from our travels abroad, and the highs we had were the highest & most joyful: lauren & joe's wedding in oxford, our first train ride into paris accompanied by live accordion music, holding a hot crepe in front of the seine, watching the tour eiffel sparkle and shimmer at midnight, posing in front of 44 rue jacob with hemingway's ghost and dining at his favorite le-pre-aux-clercs on a turkey-curry kabob and the red house wine, and befriending a couple of french kids who wanted to practice their english while i practiced my french at a cafe in montmartre while toasting "sante" with beer (1664) and mojitos until the cafe closed. oh, then the lows we had made the highs so much more meaningful, and i'll summarize to say that losing our luggage for the entire trip was the most painfully humbling experience. i hardly think the good times would have been as triumphant if the bad times had not crushed our spirits so brutally in their brief moments of victory. our trip was a grand success, all in all. the writer in me is still soaking it all in at the moment, having hardly found time to write in the midst of the experience, and i hope to share it with you in more detail sometime before school starts next month. 

in a luggage update though: one piece was returned to us thursday evening, appearing to be completely in tact (even the bit of money i stashed was there!). our other piece ("my" bag") is still awol. we hope it is having a good time and expect it to return home fully loaded with souvenirs, including (but not limited to): glowing glass replicas of the tour eiffel, one pink thong emblazed with the word paris on the front in tiny rhinestones, a note that stays "my father has died and i have no money..." (beggars feast on the tourists, always introducing themselves with the phrase "do you speak english?" before holding out this note and then completely grossing you out by touching a finger to your pastry and then her lips and leaving you no choice but to abandon your edibles since you refused to eat something someone else has fingered, which may not have happened if you gave away your loose change.) i figure our luggage is really hard up at this point.

where's waldo?

otherwise known as "where is my luggage?" is the saying of this trip. as we are forced to wash our underthings for a second night in a row, i am grappling with the idea of finding another "perfect dress" to wear to the wedding, and to try not to hate my luggage for spending more time in france than the original 8 hour layover we had intended for it. i am convinced that, like the gnome in "Amelie", we will come home to photos the missing pair had taken in front of notre dame or kissing beneath the eiffel tower or touring the louvre. that is SO not cool.

playing around

last night i was running an errand and heard a commercial for a store that was having a "Huge Piano Blowout Sale!" and it happened to be located at the tustin marketplace where i was headed. so, post-errand, i found myself in the store, fingering the yamaha uprights and eyeing the room full of bosendorfers. the store manager was generous enough to let me walk in and play, even though i wasn't in the market for one (i had asked him). sixty seconds in the room and i found myself on the main floor again, breathless at the beauty of construction and the sound that my fingers pulled from the keys. i was further complimented as i played on some of the other pianos when he asked me if i wanted to go back in and play on the bosendorfer some more since i "have such a nice touch" on the piano. wow. i was in heaven, if heaven is a piano tagged at $150,000...

we're not in the market for a piano, mind you, but i think that when we are, it'll end up being the yamaha c1, a baby grand that has incredible tone. the one i fell for had a walnut finish and an unmistakeable warmth (especially in the bass) that threw me head over heels. i talked with the manager a while longer, digested the cost (sell my car? i just might, but it still wouldn't pay for it entirely), and thanked him for his time. i think the investment is somewhere in our future, but i couldn't tell you when.

precious moments

this summer has been moving at warp speed, so it's with extreme joy i pause and reflect on the photos that capture moments in time that are so awesome. holding my niece at one week old is an incredible experience, and finds me totally unconvinced that i would never want a child of my own. not that i had ever wholly decided that in the first place, but in light of going to school & traveling to far-off places, it hasn't been at the top of the list. this has not so much to do with those other things, so much as josh & i have a healthy understanding and respect for what it takes (emotionally, financially, relationally--if that's even a word) when you have a child.

in other news, i've been mostly working and mostly taking piano lessons this summer. i've also been scheming as to how i can work my way into the Music Teacher's Association of California so that i can start teaching piano. not an easy undertaking, since last i checked uci had me down as an english major. one must admit though: i've had this in me all along. it was only a matter of time, commitment, talent, support, time.... i'm much more dedicated to the cause at 29 than 19, and i think the only thing i wouldn't like about majoring in music at uci is that i wouldn't be taking lessons from linda. however, the best case scenario of that happening puts me at september 2007, so i won't complain just yet.

moxie has just thrown himself atop my lap and left hand. so i'll take that as a sign to savor the moment and cease this blogging. more to come in september.

sketches from the anti-mall

this moment is
distinct
unique
succinct
as my eyes graze the lab & counter culture vying for the valet parking or grooving to the tunes being spun by the dj who's camped out amidst shady trees and rusted-out oil can waterfall painted all shades of orange, goldenrod and scarlet.
she's got on sunglasses, a macy-gray-facade sucking on a drink from the den. dark skin sharply offset by a white wifebeater and a smooth white bracelet. & here i am, w/ my green apple purse and wistfully tan legs, knobbly dry kneecaps and red mules, my moleskine doesn't make me a star, nor any amount of exercise.
the shade is cool and a man snaps gum loudly on a padded concrete bench to my left. i want to stay here and soak it in, let the beats fool my brain into thinking time stood still just long enough for me to write it all down.
for a second it does, as a singular beat threads through the air to my ears. i pause to close my eyes & then i remember- I'm going to London, to Paris. Will I experience something close to this? where you enter the pulse of a miniature thriving of people condensed into a particular place? a chance to be absorbed into Babylon and inspired to write just because i can and because i want to but mostly because
i
am
compelled
to stop whatever my previous agenda included, stop & write & hope that i've married w/ my surroundings enough to compel you
to move you
with simple words
phrases long enough
well enough to help
you put your finger
on the pulse as well.
it's been too long since words have called me & i am relieved to take pause in capturing
my mule slips off my left foot part way & the cacophony of native drums distantly disrupts the DJ and my thoughts flutter and flop. time to go, it says. But, Can't I stay? No, Time says, I'm up.

bring me my radiohead 3.0

greetings! for some strange reason i've been reluctant to post on my adventures at the radiohead concert. i find myself strangely apathetic about the whole thing and i'll blame that on the pms because, certainly, it was a fabulicious show. i've no regrets about the money spent to get me there, or about the fact i didn't try to sneak backstage on the coattails of friends who my link me to thom yorke with one degree of separation. in fact, from what i can tell, said friends did not even talk with said thom yorke. shame on you! shake his hand, get a picture, let him sweat on you a bit. perhaps some musical genius will rub off. however, said friends are already excellent musicians, so i'll let it slide. this time.

below is a partial set list of known songs in playlist order. there may be some slip ups here and there, as i find myself extremely uneducated in the long line of radiohead song titles. the amusing task of tracking the songs in my baby moleskine notebook resulted in a conglomeration of lyric snippets and an attempt to list "everything in it's right place" at least 3 separate times. the third time, radiohead finally read my mind and relented by actually playing it.

you and whose army?
the national anthem
2+2=5 (the lukewarm)
morning bell/amnesiac
videotape (new)
kid a
dollars & cents
street spirit (fade out)
karma police
i might be wrong
idioteque
true love waits
everything in it's right place
there there (the boney king of nowhere)
the bends
how to disappear completely
lucky

on the greek theatre: stacked parking blows. not so much the getting out part, as we arrived about 45 minutes before the start of the show. it was the "getting to our parking spot" part, which involved off-roading and should have contained a prerequite for drivers or passengers with weak constitutions, back conditions, or expectant mothers. while i don't suffer from 2 out of 3 of those, and my back is in fairly good shape at this point, i do recall a distinct moment when i thought i might get whiplash.

on the opener: deerhoof. interesting stuff. fun to watch. not as fun to listen to. amusing in retrospect.

afterthoughts: i'm really glad josh & i went. stick to the pink's hotdogs next time because their grilled cheese sandwiches are like chewing crunchy, stale, microwaved bread. hello? "grilled"? does that mean anything to you? oh, and the garlic fries are dangerously fully yummy. but you'll have garlic breath for at least 24hrs. (hey--there's a thought for the next season of 24! take THAT, jack bauer!) radiohead was not at the peak of their game, but i've no regrets. a fairly solid performance, great sound, and i always appreciate a band who doesn't sell out to the stadium venue (sorry, U2) at the risk of sacrificing their distinct sound. i would do it all over. minus the grilled cheese.

bring me my radiohead 2.0

it's taken an hour of cruisin' iTunes to search out the perfect music to suit the mood to accompany my writing, but i finally settled on a few singles and an album from a band called "the office". where do i start here. it's been ages since i've just sat down to write something that didn't involve a grade. something of quality at least.

the school year ended with "A's" across the board, which has me stunned and super-happy. i'm off to a span-tabulous start if you ask me, and i've also achieved the first "A+" since grade school, which is stunning. we'll see if the french in paris offer the same evaluation this summer. i seriously doubt they want to know what my family is like, what type of furniture i have in my bedroom, or what i'm studying in school. i have a feeling i'll be eating a lot of ham, too, since that's just about the first thing that comes to mind as far as ordering food: second only to nutella. 

i had mcdonald's yesterday. it was 90 degrees or something crazy like that. it's been humid (today is much better) in southern california and i walked outside on my lunch break and thought: filet-o-fish, hold the cheese, fries, and a chocolate shake. my body is still in recovery from the calories and junk. i've been fairly diligent about exercise & diet lately & i just killed it all yesterday. i have yet to motivate myself to the gym or even the pool this morning and i've been chatting with friends and drinking coffee and waiting for my blood to clear itself of toxins. 

piano lessons resumed on tuesday, much to my relief. linda & i talked about certificate of merit and set some much needed goals. we'll see where i'm at in 3 months' time, though we're aiming for level 8. i left off at level 7 twelve years ago, so i'm aiming high. i've a difficult time accepting the limitations of time, but i honestly believe that there's a reason linda's taken me on again. apart from the fact that she's been someone i have admired all these years, she's been a fantastic mentor and doesn't try to sugar-up the facts. i love it. she was very frank with me on tuesday and willing to say things aloud that i only thought in my head concerning music. we pondered school & she questioned the "teaching thing" as i call it. this is where i learned that she cruises by the 'muse now and again (why do my friends so rarely comment? family? lend me some sugar! i am your neighbor!). i was flattered to learn she's always thought of me as a writer. and encouraged in my pursuit of such recognition. 

therefore, i leave you with magnetic poetry, via my fridge:

murmur a moment
less
for morning ever was
and storm
will bless
blowing through ~zero (aka dino)

father blue
hear my song
dance earth
dream him warm
turn his day red as
surrender ~zero

empty moonlight
leaves sleepy shadows
balmy summer week
she asks
"what be chill?" ~furiousmuse

fling it like this
throw out use
fall
feel
vanish
were time like love
why not
listen see go ~furiousmuse

radiohead tonight @ the greek. i am (not) prepared to be awed.

all consuming

i study for finals. life begins at 12:30 today. 

samuel beckett (1937 letter to Axel Kaun):

It is becoming more and more difficult, even senseless, for me to write in official English. And more and more my own language appears to me like a veil that must be torn apart in order to get at the things (or the Nothingness) behind it. Grammar and Style. To me they have become as irrelevant as a Victorian bathing suit or the imperturbability of a true gentleman. A mask. Let us hope the time will come, thank God that in certain circles it has already come, when language is most efficiently used where it is being misused. Or is literature alone to remain behind in the old lazy ways that have been so long ago abandoned by music and painting? Is there something paralysingly holy in the vicious nature of the word that is not found in the elements of the other arts? Is there any reason why that terrible materiality of the word surface should not be capable of being dissolved, like for example the sound surface, torn by enormous pauses, of Beethoven's Seventh Symphony, so that through whole pages we can perceive nothing but a path of sounds suspended in giddy heights, linking unfathomable abysses of silence?

conclusion to a crappy day

to wrap up yesterdays adventures, presently recalled as hilariously impossible, i give you this. yesterday's trip to the ups store ended thusly:

(after borrowing scissors, wrapping my gift in the paper i brought from home, discovering the leaky water bottle, tossing said water bottle, asking for paper towel to mop up my purse as the gentleman behind the counter lovingly packed my box in popcorn and cardboard after i waited for at least 5 minutes as the employees {and owner!} contemplated lunch and phoned the neighboring sandwich shop with their order, all WHILE I WAITED. when the boy presented the box...)
me: i'd like to ship this ups ground.
he: ok.
me: that'll get there by saturday, right?
he: no, it'll get there next week.
me: how much for guaranteed delivery by saturday?
he: $22.xx
me: uh, ok. how much for packing my gift?
he: $6.95
me: (thinking: you've GOT to be joking) ok, i'd like to just pay for that for now.

--insert irony--

i bring you this morning, at the u.s. post office
clerk 1 (to customer): thank you. hope you have a great day.
clerk 2 (jokingly): we'll have to balance out the good days with every other customer. 'cuz not everyone can have a good day)
me: i had my bad day yesterday, so that's not gonna work. (forced smile)
clerk 1: i guess we can have two good days in a row.
(cordial pause, customer leaves, pleasantries)
me: how much would it cost to guarantee this package will arrive by saturday?
clerk 1: where's it going? (...) it'll have to be sent express mail, since priority mail is 2-3 days. (...) that'll be $22.xx
me: (!!!) ok.

ok man, the crappy day will stop here. back to wrapping up the last of school stuff.

curing the blues

today has been a day quite unlike most that i've experienced in recent years. bit by bit, small mishaps tumbleweeded themselves into a gigantic thorny mess, leaving me frustrated and disappointed enough to crawl home to tator tots and a garden burger brand burrito. i suppose it starts this morning, with the delayed chiropractic appointment that threw my schedule into a crazy time warp. i was unable to deliver my father's day package to the post office and learned that i shrunk another shirt of josh's because i forgot to hang it dry. from there...well, where to start? a processing error at work caused a customer great grief, multiple overdraft fees, and a bouced check to the electric company. whoops! if that wasn't enough, apparently i processed ANOTHER deposit incorrectly and an extra digit beget more research and problem-solving for yet another employee. slowly growing ill at the sound of my name, i procurred marble cake from the bakery and shot off an email begging time off for a weekend in new york. the chocolate was perhaps not sweet enough as it soon became time for lunch. lunch was spent purging my insides of finals-week-induced discomfort and finally scooting to the neighboring ups store to wrap the gift and ship it "poste haste" to dad. it was at this point i discovered that my bottled water was leaking all over my purse. i dumped my dripping belongings into a plastic grocery bag, and in a fit of disgust tossed the (nearly full) 69 cent bottle of h2o in the trash. 

i'm tired of writing about my crappy day. it got a little worse. then it got better: i watched hugh grant & julia roberts in "notting hill" and i dreamed of england. life's not half bad anymore.

13 more days

until freedom rings in my head becase school will be done for the quarter and, as is the possibility, my summer may become beautifully free. i keep waffling on summer classes: "to take, or not to take?" and the current state of "i'm waitlisted" only aids to my crazy waffling indecision. between now and then, i've 2 projects: and you better believe i'll take writing a creative piece for piano over and 8 page paper: if i choose my form of labor-intensive creativity, music wins every time. college writing and the lack of creativity i'm feeling these days is almost depressing. still, it all comes to a head on june 8 and this weekend plans on kicking me up and down the block at least half a dozen times. summer school? what's that?

homework aside, happy times will be had at the expensive of sleep: we're seeing tom stoppard's "the real thing" and "les miserables" before the fateful june 16th hits my door, so this weekend darn well better be productive. this will only be possible if the strange dreams of far-off london stop confusing my sense of reality. the fact that i actually starting dreaming in french is crazy, too, if you ask me. still, i know it was somehow related to those 30 minutes i spent watching "bridget jones 2" on tv last night before dozing off. mad mad world indeed! someone kick me if i even dream of trying a poorly executed british accent while in england in some failed effort to "not appear american"! yes, i'm a bit concerned about paris, too, but i passed my oral exam with flying colors (197 out of 200) and i have confidence, for better or worse. my worry? i hope not to be asked about my past. i don't know those verbs yet.

detestable nearness

our neighborhood is designed such that each home is nearly atop the other. a fact that, for the past four years, seemed a necessary evil as southern california is ever the growing real estate mogul and residents insist on spreading themselves on the land at such a pace as the construction (or destruction) cannot happen fast enough. proximity has never been much of an issue, save for the poorly designed picture windows that point, immodestly, toward our neighbor's laundry room, master bedroom, and child's bedroom, where visibility is determined with respect to your location in our hallway. it's a sad fact that one must always maintain proper attire in a house within one would hope to wander about freely, being that it is, in fact, a private residence. one day soon we hope to bolster our sense of privacy with some sort of window treatment: it might've happened sooner if one window didn't necessitate the use of an 18' tall ladder. 

today, however, a rare repose at home brought forth another concern: that ghostly ability of sound to travel through walls. i recall somehow investing in extra-quiet insulation, which appears to do little or nothing to quiet the celebration in progress for their three-year-old daughter. mind you, our neighbors are dear people, kind and considerate and friendly, but like 'til tuesday, "voices carry" (at one time mistaken for "this is scary". either interpretation works in this situation). the tunnel-like space created by two homes nearly atop one another serves to amplify sound, the effect like kryptonite diminishes the sound-dampening qualities of the insulation and served only as an irritation as i attempted to do my homework. and as a deterrent when i thought about playing piano. it might've been funny to play "happy birthday". it would've been depressing to subject them to scales and the bach prelude i'd like to be practicing. i can't imagine the level of disturbance without the extra insulation.

no. 44

i think somewhere along the line, redesign my site was envisioned as a literal "design it yourself with macromedia dreamweaver" project. i lost that opportunity as my trial copy swiftly surpassed 30 days without an ounce to show for all my secret ambitions at typing beautiful code and inventing a site that might win me a nobel peace prize or get me in the running for poet laureate. and, much like my interior decorating, my site was dying for a taste of modernity. so, thanks to blogger, i have once again pirated someone else's design and tweaked various components to make it feel like me. sort of. i'll continue tweaking in months to come, i'm sure. the most painful part of the process is trying to figure out what i did to cause various disruptions in the design (30 minutes of detective work all for once mislayed "div" tag!). being a hack is fun, but time consuming.

preakness

i heard on the radio the preakness is this weekend. which has little or nothing to do with my post here, mainly it's just a happy distraction: it reminds me of my childhood. i pretty much burned through all of walter farley's "black stallion" books in my youth, racing through tales of adventure, intrigue, and horse racing. i recently spotted an advertisement for flicka, a film based on mary o'hara's book "my friend flicka". the book and i have a history as well: the book is my mom's favorite by far, and it is through her that i came to read it. with any luck, i'll actually go and see the film with her. with any luck, it won't be a complete & total disappointment, as the transition of book to film often earns disasterous results and the disdain of critics and fans of the book. ah, the plight! 

josh turned 30 on monday without much hoorah. it's been an interesting transistion for him, i'm sure. it's all well for me next year, and the fact that i'm shopping for anti-aging spf moisturizer is a sure sign of insecurities that are purely superficial. ever since i transferred to a new office for work, my new coworkers have been shocked to learn my age and that i'm married. a strange coupling with my student status, i'm typically mistaken for 5-7 years younger than i actually am. thankfully my brain doesn't function like a 22-24 year old. i'm grateful for maturity.