c'est chic

On Vacation from Blogging

2008-08-23T07:55:00.000-07:00

As if you couldn't tell.

A Special Post for Doug

2008-08-12T18:57:00.000-07:00

I Dream of Truro

2008-08-10T18:19:00.001-07:00

photo of Truro, Cape Cod by Robert Spencer for NYT

Traffic Circle Still Life

2008-08-02T10:34:00.001-07:00

all photos courtesy of Jim, who found the "art" on a walk with Bucky in our neighborhood

Rabbit, Rabbit!

2008-08-01T07:55:00.000-07:00

Green Fairy

2008-07-29T17:57:00.000-07:00

Absinthe.

With that mythic quality, I want to taste it.

And now there's a Pacific Northwest vintage: Pacifique.

We're so cool.

All I Know I Learn From Google

2008-07-28T09:51:00.000-07:00

Today is Beatrix Potter's birthday.

Always Look On The Bright Side of Life ..

2008-07-24T16:59:00.000-07:00

Some things in life are bad
They can really make you mad
Other things just make you swear and curse.
When you're chewing on life's gristle
Don't grumble, give a whistle

And this'll help things turn out for the best...
And...always look on the bright side of life... Always look on the light side of life...

If life seems jolly rotten
There's something you've forgotten
And that's to laugh and smile and dance and sing.

When you're feeling in the dumps
Don't be silly chumps
Just purse your lips and whistle - that's the thing.
And...always look on the bright side of life... Always look on the light side of life...

For life is quite absurd
And death's the final word
You must always face the curtain with a bow.
Forget about your sin - give the audience a grin
Enjoy it - it's your last chance anyhow.

So always look on the bright side of death
Just before you draw your terminal breath
Life's a piece of shit
When you look at it
Life's a laugh and death's a joke, it's true.

You'll see it's all a show
Keep 'em laughing as you go
Just remember that the last laugh is on you.

And always look on the bright side of life...Always look on the right side of life... (Come on guys, cheer up!)
Always look on the bright side of life...Always look on the bright side of life...
(Worse things happen at sea, you know.)
Always look on the bright side of life...
(I mean - what have you got to lose?)
(You know, you come from nothing - you're going back to nothing.
What have you lost? Nothing!)

Always look on the bright side of life...

from the Monty Python musical, Not the Messiah (He's A Naughty Boy)
Today's fragrance? Hermes Osmanthe Yunnan ... a lemon iced tea scent for summer.

Can You Color Inside The Lines?

2008-07-16T10:13:00.000-07:00

Bastille Day

2008-07-12T13:25:00.000-07:00

Here's to the overthrow of all tyrannical despots ... peacefully, of course, and with due process.

Independence Day 2008

2008-07-04T18:32:00.000-07:00

"Life, Liberty and the Pursuit of Happiness..."

Rabbit, Rabbit

2008-07-01T06:21:00.000-07:00

Top Five Motivators

2008-06-29T09:26:00.000-07:00

1. Fear
2. Guilt
3. Anger
4. Resentment
5. Love

Today's fragrance: Tom Ford Azurée Soleil eau fraiche

Peonies and Heritage Roses

2008-06-23T18:43:00.000-07:00

Falling Out of Love

2008-05-13T18:29:00.000-07:00

You start to notice the little things.
Like how you don't post as much.
Like how you never learned to use your digital camera to post your own visuals.
Like how you now hate the color scheme that you tried to superimpose over the kind but Levittown-esque Blogger template.
Like how even your faithful three (maybe up to six) readers agree with you that your Blog is boring.
At least you still like the name.
So ... what do you do when you have to break up with your blog?
You knock the whole damn thing down (after taking time to sift through the 799 previous posts {YES, THIS IS ACTUALLY THE 800TH POST} to see what's worth saving)
And start over.
Look for a New and Different C'est Chic coming soon.

Rabbit, Rabbit

2008-05-01T19:03:00.000-07:00

Ok, just imagine you see a rabbit in this space. Like a Cheshire cat, only different. Thank you.

Shaal Nur

2008-04-24T19:20:00.000-07:00

It's about time for my semi-annual fragrance review, isn't it? Ok. Today I wore Etro Shaal Nur. It smelled good.

Here's more vital information from the mini-review of September 1, 2006 (jeez, I've been blogging a long time): Shaal Nur with citrus, spices, karo karoundé, narcissus, jonquil ... what I get is a transparent incense-y rose, akin to the sheer beauty of Sonoma Scent Studio's Tranquility. That same wisp-of-holy-smokeness quality, plus a subtle florality.

Earth Day 2008

2008-04-22T06:34:00.000-07:00

I Got Something Anyway

2008-04-20T10:29:00.000-07:00

I got a flu shot. I wash my hands religiously. I aim my patented glare at people who cough on the bus (I don't care if they can't help it). I boil pens and paper after my ill coworkers touched them and avoided them completely if I could help it. And yet, I'm in bed sick. I've been blowing my nose for two days. My head aches. I sneeze.

I'm only on this blog right now to tell you how sorry I feel for myself.

If I die, remember me as the sweet, good-tempered, never-sarcastic dear person I never was.

God, I feel awful.

A Memory of Pesach

2008-04-19T08:32:00.000-07:00

Tonight marks the first night of Passover ... and pulls out a memory of seder with my now ex-laws. Waiting, waiting, waiting through the reading of the Haggadah for the reward of my mother-in-law's salty chicken soup and a "matzoh sandwich," the wonderful mix of charoset and a touch of horseradish on the cardboard-like matzoh. I'll never forget it or them.

Once Upon A Dream

2008-04-13T17:55:00.000-07:00

Maleficent: It's INCREDIBLE! *Sixteen years* and not a *trace* of her! She couldn't have vanished into thin air. [to her goons] Maleficent: Are you sure you searched everywhere? Maleficent's goon: Yes, yes, everywhere. We *all* did. [the rest of the goons agree chatteringly] Maleficent: But what about the towns? The forests? The *mountains*? Maleficent's goon: Uh-huh, we've searched mountains and forests and, uh, houses and... uh, lemme see here... and in all the cradles. Maleficent: Cradles? Maleficent's goon: Yes, yes, every cradle. Maleficent: *Cradles*? [to her pet raven, talking sarcastically about the goons]

Maleficent: Did you hear that, my pet? All these years, they've been looking for a baby [She bursts out laughing, as do her goons]

painting: Arthur Rackham's Sleeping Beauty; quote: Walt Disney's Sleeping Beauty

Do Not Wound If You Cannot Kill

2008-04-10T19:59:00.000-07:00

If an injury has to be done to a man it should be so severe that his vengeance need not be feared.

Machiavelli

AND featuring completely unrelated photo of chocolate cherries, because I want one.

Old Clothes

2008-04-06T10:01:00.000-07:00

The plaintive theme of Simon and Garfunkel's Bookends...

Time it was, and what a time it was, it was
A time of innocence, a time of confidences
Long ago, it must be, I have a photograph
Preserve your memories;
They're all that's left you

... uses photographs to preserve memories. I use my old clothes.

Try as I might to stuff history into a bag for our neighborhood's version of Goodwill, I can't let go of a certain pink robe, certain blue flowered underwear, two oversize black sweaters (threadbare and dating from 1988) and a beautiful but dated gray knit dress.

I don't know what I'm going to do with them, except let them rot in my closet and bureau. Maybe they'll serve as a shroud: bury me in them.

But I can't let them go. They comfort me.

An Ordinary Man Who Did Extraordinary Things

2008-04-04T18:30:00.000-07:00

1/15/29 - 4/4/68

Tibet

2008-04-03T19:29:00.000-07:00

The Soviet Govern-ment of China recognizes the right of self-deter-mination of the national minorities in China, their right to complete separation from China and to the formation of an independent state for each national minority.

Mao Zedong, Resolution of the First All-China Congress of Soviets, November 1931

photo by Elizabeth Huff

Rabbit, Rabbit!

2008-04-01T06:14:00.000-07:00

For Doug, Ariel, Benvenuta, Winter-wheat, TSDuff, the lovely TLP and my dear Bela. And Happy April Fool's Day as well!

Also SEK, I know you're out there.

Quoth Morpheus...

2008-03-31T19:14:00.000-07:00

"Neo, soon you're going to realize just as I did, there is a difference between knowing the path, and walking the path."

Odo Nnyew Fie Kwan Frame*

2008-03-30T18:30:00.000-07:00

The body of Matt Maupin, the American soldier captured by Iraqi insurgents on April 9, 2004, has been found and identified by DNA.

Staff Sergeant Maupin is finally coming home.

*Love never loses its way home ... the West African proverb used by his family and in Iraq among the troops to describe the search for Staff Sergeant Maupin.

I'm a Classicist preen

2008-03-30T10:11:00.000-07:00

Two brief thoughts on perfume that i just posted on Twitter (since I have zero followers on that "killer app" and I know I have at least two readers here. Oh, one. Because Doug doesn't care about perfume).

I'm either in a rut or have become a classicist. What I love now is what I've loved for three years.

Tell me what's better than Ormonde Jayne? Than the early Serge Lutens? Than the F. Malle greats: Une Rose and Musc Ravageur? Than select Guerlains and Carons?

Somehow I've lost the lust to follow every new niche brand. What's wrong with me?

Or what's right?

Persephone, Bernini

Earth Hour: 3/29/08 8 p.m.

2008-03-29T09:12:00.000-07:00

What changed in the United States with Hurricane Katrina was a feeling that we have entered a period of consequences. Al Gore

Join the rolling blackout of the Earth tonight at 8 pm your time ... to demonstrate we can conserve energy and lower carbon emission.

One hour in the dark tonight to demonstrate we've seen the light.

Idiomatic Logic Going On In My Head

2008-03-26T20:29:00.000-07:00

My analyst told me
That I was right out of my head
The way he described it
He said I'd be better dead than live
I didn't listen to his jive
I knew all along
That he was all wrong
And I knew that he thought
I was crazy but I'm not.
Oh no.
So why should I feel sorry
If they just couldn't understand
The idiomatic logic
That went on in my head?

Lambert, Hendricks & Ross, covered by Joni Mitchell, Twisted

Tea and Oranges that Come All the Way from China

2008-03-23T19:45:00.000-07:00

Once there was a sullen teenager who sat in her dorm room, smoking cigarettes in the flickering candlelight and pretty much believing Cohen had written this song about her. Never mind that her college was landlocked in the midwest and there was no river -- or boat -- in miles.

Suzanne takes you down to her place near the river

You can hear the boats go by

You can spend the night beside her

And you know that she's half crazy

But that's why you want to be there

And she feeds you tea and oranges

That come all the way from China

And just when you mean to tell her

That you have no love to give her

Then she gets you on her wavelength

And she lets the river answer

That you've always been her lover

And you want to travel with her

And you want to travel blind

And you know that she will trust you

For you've touched her perfect body with your mind.

And Jesus was a sailor

When he walked upon the water

And he spent a long time watching

From his lonely wooden tower

And when he knew for certain

Only drowning men could see him

He said "All men will be sailors then

Until the sea shall free them"

But he himself was broken

Long before the sky would open

Forsaken, almost human

He sank beneath your wisdom like a stone

And you want to travel with him

And you want to travel blind

And you think maybe you'll trust him

For he's touched your perfect body with his mind.

Now Suzanne takes your hand

And she leads you to the river

She is wearing rags and feathers

From Salvation Army counters

And the sun pours down like honey

On our Lady of the Harbour

And she shows you where to look

Among the garbage and the flowers

There are heroes in the seaweed

There are children in the mourning

They are leaning out for love

And they will lean that way forever

While Suzanne holds the mirror

And you want to travel with her

And you want to travel blind

And you know that you can trust her

For she's touched your perfect body with her mind.

painting Scott William Simmons 2003

Easter 2008

2008-03-23T07:26:00.000-07:00

On a rainy Seattle Easter, memories of church:
The Methodist church temporarily located in a post-war tract house in Dayton, Ohio ... a Methodist church with a green-walled basement in Sweetser, Indiana ... the gray stone Bethlehem United Church of Christ in Ann Arbor, Michigan ... the towering sanctuary of St. Mark's Cathedral, an Anglican church in Seattle ... then a long period when my place of worship was Temple Beth Am in Seattle, with its Torah scrolls in their golden Ark ... and now, my thoughts more often return to the Christian churches of my childhood.

This, from the Methodists, has always been my favorite Easter hymn:

Christ the Lord is risen today, Alleluia!

Earth and heaven in chorus say, Alleluia!

Raise your joys and triumphs high, Alleluia!

Sing, ye heavens, and earth reply, Alleluia!

Love's redeeming work is done, Alleluia!

Fought the fight, the battle won, Alleluia!

Death in vain forbids him rise, Alleluia!

Christ has opened paradise, Alleluia!

Lives again our glorious King, Alleluia!

Where, O death, is now thy sting? Alleluia!

Once he died our souls to save, Alleluia!

Where's thy victory, boasting grave? Alleluia!

King of glory, soul of bliss, Alleluia!

Everlasting life is this, Alleluia!

Thee to know, thy power to prove, Alleluia!

Thus to sing, and thus to love, Alleluia!

For those who celebrate, I wish a Joyous Easter.

It's Spring!

2008-03-20T19:16:00.000-07:00

since feeling is first

since feeling is first
who pays any attention
to the syntax of things
will never wholly kiss you;

wholly to be a fool
while Spring is in the world

my blood approves,
and kisses are a far better fate
than wisdom
lady i swear by all flowers. Don't cry
--the best gesture of my brain is less than
your eyelids' flutter which says

we are for eachother: then
laugh, leaning back in my arms
for life's not a paragraph

And death i think is no parenthesis

e.e. cummings

Happy St. Patrick's Day!

2008-03-17T06:32:00.000-07:00

May your glass be ever full.

May the roof over your head be always strong.

And may you be in Heaven

Half an hour before the devil knows you're dead.

Palm Sunday

2008-03-16T08:59:00.000-07:00

The palms blessed on Palm Sunday were used in the procession of the day, then taken home by the faithful and used as a sacra-mental. They were preserved in prominent places in the house, in the barns, and in the fields, and thrown into the fire during storms. (excerpted from New Advent Catholic Encyclopedia)
Giotto Christ Entering Jerusalem 1304 fresco

Why Are We Numb? Why We Are Numb.

2008-03-14T19:02:00.000-07:00

It's never easy for me to write something thoughtful. Glib I can do. Humorous I can do sometimes. But this is serious.

For approximately 8 years, we as a nation have sunk lower and lower.

I have written often of my concern, dislike, repulsion of policies that have led us to invade without provocation (yes, I've heard the opposing thoughts on that) and occupy another nation, repudiate the Geneva War Conventions, implement torture while claiming we have done no such thing, imprison individuals without pretense of habeas corpus, and sustain horrific injuries and death to so many of the young who volunteered to protect our so-called national interest in a hideous war.

While they have been on the front, we haven't provided them with enough, or quality equipment. We haven't questioned the stoploss repetitive deployments that mean they go back and back and back. And then when they finally get home, we have been stingy in caring for their broken bodies and providing for their needy families.

We have chosen not to ask how we could afford this war. How it was really being paid for.

The answer -- and many financial fouls -- are coming home to roost.

Certainly the greed of the subprime mortgage debacle has much to do with banks on the edge of failure -- to the extent that this time is being compared with the precipice of 1929 depression.

But think about it. That's not the only reason our economy is in big trouble. That China owns a big chunk of our deficit, and therefore our future. That's not the only reason the dollar has tanked and, per MSNBC, "even" South Americans prefer euros to the once gold-standard American dollar.

Think about how much that war in Iraq has cost us. And think how it may actually end up costing us our way of life, our standard of living, no matter what a hopeful young Democratic candidate may tell us.

And yet we remain silent. We continue to not ask those hard questions. We continue to sleepwalk through -- what? The fifth year of this war? The sixth?

Why are we numb? Guilt and determined ignorance, I think. This is why we are numb.

Looks Weird. Can't Wait.

2008-03-12T06:25:00.001-07:00

St. Patrick's Day is almost here. I think that's Guinness in the background.

I love being Irish.

Excerpt from Newsweek ...

2008-03-09T09:12:00.002-07:00

"'[reference to Saturday Night Live skit] Fey: Maybe what bothers me the most is that people say that Hillary is a bitch. Let me say something about that: yeah, she is. So am I, and so is this one. [Points to Amy Poehler]
Poehler: Yeah, deal with it.
Fey: You know what, bitches get stuff done. That's why Catholic schools use nuns as teachers and not priests. Those nuns are mean old clams and they sleep on cots and they're allowed to hit you. And at the end of the school year you hated those bitches but you knew the capital of Vermont. So, I'm saying it's not too late, Texas and Ohio, bitch is the new black!'

The task now for Hillary Clinton and her unreliable campaign organization is clear: stay on the sidelines while the women of America fight the battle...Unless the press actually wants Clinton to win the White House, it had better stow the sarcastic Hillary one-liners and kill the caustic sound bites. Because nothing makes an American woman as crazy-mad as watching another American woman get pushed around."

Rick Astley Would Never ...

2008-03-07T18:42:00.000-08:00

Rabbit, Rabbit!

2008-03-01T08:35:00.001-08:00

March!

Favorite Mary Chapin Carpenter Song

2008-02-29T20:06:00.000-08:00

I took a walk in the rain one day

on the wrong side of the tracks

I stood on the rails till I saw that train

Just to see how my heart would react

Now some people say that you shouldn't tempt fate

And for them I would not disagree

But I never learned nothing from playing it safe

I say fate should not tempt me

I take my chances, I don't mind working without a net

I take my chances, I take my chances every chance I get

I sat alone in the dark one night, tuning in by remote

I found a preacher who spoke of the light

but there was brimstone in his throat

He'd show me the way according to him in return for my personal check

I flipped my channel back to CNN and I lit another cigarette

I take my chances, forgiveness doesn't come with a debt

I take my chances, I take my chances every chance I get

I've crossed lines of words and wire and both have cut me deep

I've been frozen out and I've been on fire and the tears are mine to weep

Now I can cry until I laugh and laugh until I cry

So cut the deck right in half, I'll play from either side

I take my chances, I pay my dollar and I place my bet

I take my chances, I take my chances every chance I get

I take my chances, I don't cling to remorse or regret

I take my chances, I take my chances every chance I get

Don't Drink and Knit

2008-02-24T09:19:00.000-08:00

The whole idea of having a glass of wine at your elbow (or a muscle relaxant in your gullet) as you carefully knit 5, purl 5 ... is a deeply flawed concept.

Last night I got to rip out about twenty rows that looked like they had been knitted by a drunk monkey. (Heh. I guess they were.)

Don't mix your relaxation methods. Just as you wouldn't attempt to do a yoga headstand and knit, don't try to guzzle and purl. No good comes of it.

No need to thank me for the wisdom. I'm here to help.

Last night and this morning's scent: Ormonde Jayne's body lotion in Ormonde with a splash of Ormonde Woman on top ... a treasured V-day gift from Jim ... I want to gnaw my arm off, it's that good.

Hillary! Stop It!

2008-02-21T19:02:00.000-08:00

It's time to step up and claim your dignity. You don't want this badly enough to destroy your credibility and the pride many of us have had in your accomplishments. Don't resort to political hack tactics. You're better than that.

Happy Ogre Day

2008-02-14T06:11:00.000-08:00

Curmudgeons everywhere are sneering at the candy and flowers today as they celebrate their own Festival of Feeling ...

Doug, this illustrates what I wish for you.

Have a Wonderful Day! XOXO

Happy Valentine's Day

2008-02-13T05:25:00.001-08:00

The official Valentine fragrance of c'est chic is Ormonde Jayne Ta'if. Here, from way back, is my original review:

How Badly Do You Want It?*
In the case of Ta'if, very badly indeed.[With a bow to Robin, whose blog http://nowsmellthis.blogharbor.com/ today features an interview with Ormonde Jayne's Linda Pilkington, the perfumer responsible for my favorite fragrance in all the world ...]This heartbreakingly beautiful fragrance is named for the Ta'if damask rose from Arabia (Ta´if, a town rising 5000 ft above the Red Sea overlooks the Arabian desert and is famous for its rose plantations. A rose plantation. Can you imagine?).Notes are: top -- pink pepper, saffron and dates; heart -- rose oil, freesia, orange flower absolute and jasmine; base -- broom and amber.The Ormonde Jayne site proclaims the perfume "intoxicating and audacious." To me, it is magical and contradictory. This is a non-sweet, nearly herbaceous rose scent with none of the saccharine qualities most often associated with the floral, and particularly rose.Its saffron, pink pepper, tree resin and broom notes differentiate it, affording unexpected richness and depth. There is also a darkness to this scent, nearly a blood-warm quality (and those who like this sort of thing may also find Czech and Speake's Dark Rose appealing).The emotional pull of this has everything to do with its ability to transport you. It's rare that a perfume has such a strong persona that yours bends to it, rather than the reverse. But this is true of Ta'if.In my mind at least, I become dangerously seductive -- who knows what I'm capable of, in the realm of this wonderful scent? *quote, completely out of context, from Gracie Allen

wonderful image from the fabric designer Anna Maria Horner.

Washington Caucus Precinct 1266

2008-02-10T13:40:00.000-08:00

Participating in my precinct caucus -- the first I've ever participated in -- was a study in Jim's favorite topics: relative realities and shifting perspectives.

That is, what we deeply, truly, madly believe to be real ain't necessarily so. And it's all a function of what you bring to the table in terms of age, gender, economic status, life experience, expectation.

After stumbling through the Pledge of Allegiance with these people, feeling solidarity with this group, you observe the mass of people on one side of the room who so earnestly believe that Barack Obama can and will change this nation ... versus the handful of people on the other side who believe that Hillary is our most electable option, flawed, battle-scarred, and maybe jaded as she is.

How can you tell the idealists that you once watched a black and white TV showing the caisson carrying the casket of another presidential idealist? That you once stood in a rally holding a sign that said MCGOVERN? That you had real belief in Howard Dean's fire and impetuosity, right up to the time the media crucified him for The Scream?

How can you convince the convinced that their candidate may not be capable of the miracles he truly believes he will bring to pass -- in terms of bringing the nation together, extricating us from the hell that is Iraq and helping all of us -- including the poor, disenfranchised, the ill, people of color and elderly -- get what they need from their government?

You can't. That's their reality. Even as you have yours. And who's to say they're not right?

You can join them in their hope. And not puncture their utopian balloon before the universe serves them the bitter herb of failure that you've already tasted.

And who's to say that this time it won't work? That miracles can happen. That the United States can regain its heart, its humanity, its dignity ... and rise from the ashes of too many wrong roads taken.

Why not hope?

I Feel Good!

2008-02-09T12:07:00.000-08:00

Yeah, I know there will be ups and downs. But that second injection seems to have WORKED! Pain is relative, but when it's greatly reduced, or (wow!) gone ... you're just so darn grateful.

Today's scent: Shocking by Schiaparelli. As Nancy describes it, so much better than I could: A wonderful and surprising blend of rose, jasmine, narcissus, moss, vanilla, raspberry, and tarragon. A classic that is still fresh and new. Once I get past the raspberry, it's all good.

And Today We Caucus. On the Democratic side, we only have good choices. Hope I don't have to sit on any twenty-somethings to make them see the wisdom of my thoughts.

Postscript re Doug's question about spleen: I didn't really vent mine when, if you were caucusing for Hillary in one Washington state precinct this afternoon, you got stomped. It does look like Obama is going to sweep the state.

This Perfume Makes Me Unreasonably Happy

2008-02-07T14:48:00.000-08:00

I collect niche perfumes, which means I like the weird ones. The ones that have ad copy that reads:

"You can smell...you can dream...but it's all in her hands. The very elegant but thorny bulgarian Rose marries patchouli and vanilla to draw this fine elegance, both contemporary and inevitable."

Thorny bulgarian rose. Heh. Juliette Has A Gun Lady Vengeance. Heh.

One. More. Time.

2008-02-05T19:41:00.000-08:00

I'm having another steroid injection tomorrow. Why I'm posting that picture with this news, I cannot tell you. Except I like the idea of a bunch of Celtic feet. I sure hope this is the last time I get to share this news. In my ongoing search for sympathy. Wait til I start my blogseries on What Perfumes Go With Chronic Back Pain. You're gonna love it. Or maybe I'll do an insider series on The Best Pacific Northwest Operating Rooms. Another winner. Just ignore the kvetching. I'm planning on a complete cure with this.
I. Mean. It.

Hope, Idealism, Sacrifice, Redemption

2008-02-03T09:38:00.000-08:00

No, this post has nothing to do with this political season.

It has everything to do with a movie Jim and I watched last night ... Lady In The Water ... a 2006 fantasy thiller listed by Variety per Wikipedia as one of the ten biggest financial losers of that year.

Too bad. It's a wonderful story. See it if you want to feel better about human beings and their possibilities.

RABBIT, RABBIT!

2008-02-01T18:22:00.000-08:00

I almost forgot! I know I used these before, but aren't they CUTE?

What A Great Valentine's Day Present!

2008-01-30T06:03:00.000-08:00

Here at ThinkGeek, we truly understand you have needs. You need to be entertained, you don't want your neurons to prematurely atrophy. You crave stimulation. You crave a Carnivorous Desktop Plant Set. Perfect for the casual office worker who delights in watching insects slowly meet their makers as they are painfully digested by an engaging variety of meat-sucking flora. Nothing quite like it.

Each Complete Kit Includes:
Growing Dome
Planting Mixture
Carnivorous Seed Pack:
Venus Fly Trap
Yellow Trumpet
Hooded Pitcher Plant
Purple Pitcher Plant
Pale Trumpet
Temperate Sundew Plants
Cobra Lillies
3 Photo Decals
3 Bog Buddies
Swamp Rocks
Instructions and Information Manual
Your Carnivorous Plant Set will take several weeks to get started. But have patience friends, the blood-curdling plant-on-insect action will be worth the wait! We guarantee it or pay us double!

I am joking. JOKING! I do not really want one of these. But I can seen how someone might. Available at thinkgeek.com (who provided the scintillating ad copy).

War & Peace

2008-01-26T13:04:00.000-08:00

Jim has been reading Tolstoy's War & Peace since he received it as a birthday gift in November from his son's girlfriend.

He has read a chapter or two almost every night since (the book must be four inches thick) and then he comes downstairs and gives me the Cliff Note version of that night's reading, and we discuss it.

So, without all the work, I've been lucky enough to get a grasp of Tolstoy's fatalistic beliefs: we are all caught up in the inevitability of history, there is a God who permits us freewill within that inevitability but, ultimately, we have very little influence over event outcomes in our lives.

He's almost done with it. I'm going to miss Pierre and Natasha.

Rich Hippie Wild Thing

2008-01-26T09:25:00.000-08:00

One of the very first unattainable perfumes I fell in love with was Rich Hippie Wild Thing. Its "organic and wildcrafted" nature -- per the marketing hype of the company who created it -- made it obscenely expensive, to the tune of two oz. for $1225.

But they recently came out with the vastly more accessible 1/8 oz rollerball size (plus a discount) and -- since I recently came so near to death -- ok, so I didn't come near death, but I do have a bruise on my wrist from the IV -- I now actually own a few drops of the stuff.

And I'm sniffing it on said bruised wrist right now. *preen*

Rich Hippie Wild Thing: "Intoxicating, romantic and sensual floral with rare Indian Jasmine, Albanian Orris Root and Egyptian Rose."

I'm still sneering at it, but underneath I'm thrilled. Thrilled.

Suffrage

2008-01-21T09:59:00.000-08:00

So, for the first time in history, the populace is ostensibly being given a voting choice other than a (usually Old) White Man.

Are we really willing to discard that chance by arguing whether gender or race is more important?

Don't salt the earth on this one, Hillary and Obama. Make it possible for one of you to succeed by not flinging mud.

Leave that to the Old White Men.

When You're On The Lucky End of US Health Care

2008-01-20T14:07:00.000-08:00

Way on the other end of the American health care spectrum -- as far from Harborview as is possible -- is Evergreen, the beautiful facility where I had my procedure Thursday.

Nestled in Greater Seattle's eastside, where the affluent suburbs are located, it is a multi-level, nearly new surgical center specializing in outpatient procedures such as the one for which I was scheduled.

A meandering drive leads into an upper level parking lot full of high end vehicles and an easy walk to the spacious hotel-like lobby of the center.

You are not kept waiting. You're warmly welcomed by smiling, non-harried personnel who gently wrest your insurance information from you, repeatedly make certain you are who you say you are (both insurance card and drivers license are photocopied), tell you it will just be a minute and mean it.

Then the real surprises start. You are ushered by one medical assistant into a small but nicely furnished room (that becomes your private waiting room), where she takes your vitals, and says it will be just a minute ... and means it.

It is barely a minute before two more staff members come in, go through a comprehensive intake with you -- no cursory history here -- and tell you they'll be right back to do the IV.

And they are. Perhaps 15 minutes has passed since you walked through the door. You are in a gown with a band on one wrist and an IV catheter in the other one. 15 MINUTES.

Another five minutes and you're ushered into the brightly lit operating room, where three more people are prepping the operating table and the doctor sits at a low table peering into a laptop at the CD of your MRI.

A quiet, personable man, maybe late forties, he takes the time to ask you if you learn visually or aurally, you say, "Um, visually." and he pulls out a model of the mid-spine and proceeds to show you exactly where the needle will be placed.

Another five minutes, the nurses have positioned you, there've been jokes about what soup is for lunch (the doctor says, "Anything but barley. I hate barley.") you're face-down on the operating table and everything goes blank.

The next thing you know, you're sitting up on a gurney being offered juice (cranberry, please) and cookies. You're giddy with the first complete absence of pain in months and REALLY LOVE whoever is responsible for that. LOVE THEM.

Then it's over and you're in the car, and then you're home in bed.

It's only later that you figure out how lucky you are to benefit from all this technology, that this wonderful service, the skills of these very nice people, will be paid for by a combination of pretty good health care insurance and your ability to work.

And you thank God, and feel a little guilty.

Enough is Enough.

2008-01-19T18:32:00.000-08:00

You know how you get to a point where you're just ready to be well and forget about how you got there?

I'm there.

For, like, fifteen minutes at a time, between icepacks, I'm PAIN FREE! Woohoo!! I LOVE IT.

Then the other forty-five minutes, I'm irritable and swinging, mood-wise, from the chandelier. If we had a chandelier.

The dog is looking at me strangely. Why is the dog looking at me strangely? What does he mean by that?

HUH???

The Power of (Your) Thought(s)

2008-01-18T08:13:00.000-08:00

I was really touched by all of you.

My herniated disc got bathed in cortisone, I got a blissful couple of hours of oblivion, and I got more material for another post about health care in the U.S.

I'm sitting here against an icepack, being grateful for all the good thoughts all of you threw my way. Thank you.

Distraction

2008-01-15T19:49:00.000-08:00

So what do YOU think about when you're trying not to think about something?

Well, you can purchase things. In my mind, there is nothing better than distracting yourself with online frivolities. Things like Badger Body Butter (specifically in Antique Rose scent, courtesy of a recent NowSmellThis column). Saw it. Smelled it in mind. Had to have it.

You know, things you didn't know you wanted until they presented themselves to you on the small screen in which you have buried your face.

Bucky is also trying to distract me. In order to get a mint Milano cookie, he is willing to trade his severely-chewed-upon piece of rawhide. And he paws me repeatedly to point out what a bargain I would be getting.

I've already made the rounds of my favorite blogs. Daily Coyote. Desire to Inspire. Dooce. Frugal Fashionista. Now Smell This. Slap of the Day. Triticum Turgidum. Waking Ambrose. (Listed alphabetically and there are more. And I need more posts from you guys. Except for NST and WA, who post religiously.)

Then there are stupid TV shows. Watching an episode of Scrubs for the 15th time is good. I can do the dialogue with the actors.

Got any ideas? I could use some more distraction.

* I am not certain the graphic employed in this post is entirely accurate. For instance, I KNOW my Telephone Skills sector is not that big.

Talking Is Good. Doing is Better.

2008-01-12T20:04:00.000-08:00

GO PATS! (and take that @#$%^ asterisk off)

Next Thursday at 9 am and, Yes, I Am Scared

2008-01-12T11:45:00.000-08:00

The covering over the nerve roots in the spine is called the dura. The sleeve-like space surrounding the dura is called the epidural space. Nerves travel through the epidural space before they travel into your arms, chest or legs. The nerves leave the spine from small nerve holes. These nerves may become inflamed due to irritation from a damaged disc or from contact with a bone spur ... Inflammation of these nerves in the thoracic spine may cause pain in your mid-back, along your ribs, to your chest wall or abdomen...

An epidural injection places anti-inflammatory medicine (cortisone) into the epidural space to reduce nerve inflammation, and hopefully reduce your symptoms. By stopping or limiting nerve inflammation we may promote healing, and speed up “mother nature”, thereby reducing your pain. Although not always helpful, epidural injections reduce pain and improve symptoms in most people within 3-7 days. They may provide permanent relief or provide a period of pain relief that will allow other treatments like physical therapy to be more effective ...

First, an IV is started so that you may be given medicine for relaxation if you so desire. (DARN RIGHT I DESIRE SEDATION) Next, while lying face down on a x-ray table your skin will be well cleansed with an antiseptic. The physician will numb a small area of skin over your spine where the epidural needle will be inserted. Next, the physician will use x-ray guidance to direct a small needle into the epidural space. There will be pressure felt with this part of the procedure. He will then inject contrast dye to confirm that the medicine spreads to the affected nerve(s) in the epidural space. After this, the physician will inject a combination of numbing medicine (anesthetic) and time released anti-inflammatory (cortisone).

You may have some partial numbness in your arms or legs from the anesthetic after the injection. This may last several hours but you will be able to function safely as long as you take precautions. You will report your remaining pain (if any) and also record the relief you experience over the next week in a “pain diary” which we will provide ...

You may notice an increase in your pain lasting for several days. This occurs after the numbing medicine wears off but before the cortisone has a chance to work. Ice will typically be more helpful than heat during this time. You may begin to notice an improvement in your pain 3-5 days after the injection. Improvements will generally occur within 10 days after the injection.

*all material (except for my editorial DARN RIGHT I DESIRE SEDATION) from the physician who will be performing the epidural injection.

Lingerie.

2008-01-05T17:32:00.000-08:00

I believe in it. I think it's important. And yet, we never discuss it. Why is that? Also, I am approaching my football season saturation point. The SuperBowl needs to hurrry up and get here. My scent today? Creative Scentualization's Perfect Veil.

There. I've changed the subject.

Fernando Sanchez Moire Short Chemise, Nancy Meyer Lingerie, Seattle

Harborview

2008-01-03T15:35:00.000-08:00

I hope I can convey this, still having the remnants of a couple of valium in me ... I have a story about health care in the U.S.

My back pain having persisted for months to the point where a disinterested primary care physician finally referred me to a specialist who was interested, I found myself routed to Seattle's roughest medical turf for an MRI, a kind of x-ray in the round that allows a physician to see the soft disk tissue between the bony vertebrae.

Harborview is the once county, or public, hospital known as well for its superlative trauma care as it is for its mostly indigent population of the sick who cannot obtain care elsewhere.

It is a teaching hospital affiliated with the University of Washington and the Veterans Administration hospitals ... each hosts a number of research projects that rely heavily on those willing to subject themselves both to student physicians and experimental procedures. Thus the poor become useful in the advancement of science.

The specialist who will care for my spine is known for a particular technique and I am grateful he is willing to treat me. But, apparently because of his affiliation with Harborview, it was that facility in which I found myself waiting for an MRI today.

My procedure was no different -- and perhaps more comfortable -- than the one I experienced some fifteen years ago in a more luxe atmosphere.

But waiting for it was a trip.

Despite an obviously hardworking staff, and lavender paint trimming the walls, and ethnic-leaning art that tries too hard and the mandatory Chihuly glasswork behind glass, there is a aura of deep grime about the place. And dejection.

These are waiting rooms peopled with those who cannot speak English -- almost every cluster of patients in the radiology room was accompanied by a translator, whether Hispanic or Somali.

These are people who must rely on the kindness of strangers when asked "Do you have insurance? Do you have any coverage at all?" When the most positive answer is the translator helping the sick one pull Medicaid coupons out of a purse or a pocket.

And these are sick people. Radiology is not the most grim department in the facility -- I'm pretty sure the hyper-busy ER is -- but even there, you could tell that a lot of these people had waited until they could wait no longer to seek care.

Spend some time in a place like this and then talk to me about market forces in health care.

Happy Happy New Year! Rabbit! Rabbit!

2008-01-01T09:28:00.000-08:00

2008

2007-12-31T21:22:00.000-08:00

Let your love flow outward through the universe, to its height, its depth, its broad extent, a limitless love, without hatred or enmity. Then, as you stand or walk, sit or lie down, as long as you are awake, strive for this with a one-pointed mind: your life will bring heaven to earth. Sutta Nipata

Monet Sunrise 1872

The Best of 2007

2007-12-31T08:06:00.000-08:00

Worth your attention in 2008!

1) Lush Rehab Shampoo

2) Lush Jasmine & Henna Fluff Ease

3) Tom Ford Private Blend Noir de Noir

4) Green Cream

5) Skin MD Natural™ Shielding Lotion

6) EcoDent Ultimate Daily Oral Rinse

7) Stila Kajal

And check out these beauty bloggers, for their best!

15 Minute Beauty Fanatic

Beauty Blogging Junkie

Beauty Talk

Beautiful Makeup Search

For The Love of Beauty

Give Me Your Eyes I Need Sunshine

Getting Amped

Grayburn

HauteMommaStuff

Koneko's Beauty Diary

Makeup Bag

The Makeup Girl

Miss Whoever You Are

My Life,My Words,My Mind

The Life Of A Ladybug

The World Is Tired Right Now

2007-12-29T18:09:00.000-08:00

The world is tired right now.

Before I left the office yesterday, I looked down from the 8th floor and saw the Christmas carousel, now still.

Promenade trees, still wrapped in red and white lights, could be seen through the gray mist, but no children shrieked and laughed, no families celebrated.

The time for celebration of light and life in the midst of dark is over.

Now we wait.

It's that time when the old year is preparing to die ... and the new year not quite born.

We spend some time counting our sins, sins that we -- singularly and as a community -- committed this past year. War, cruelty, greed -- the world is too much with us.

And now we wait.

For a new beginning, a tabula rasa, an opportunity to do something different, something right.

Now we wait.

film still from the 2006 Russian Stalker

Benazir Bhutto

2007-12-27T18:41:00.000-08:00

June 21, 1953 – December 27, 2007

Christmas Cakewalk

2007-12-26T09:21:00.000-08:00

A favorite Christmas gift: the D&L Company's Modern Alchemy Cakewalk candle, with its perfect winter-warmth scents of vanilla, chicory, cotton leaves. (Many thanks to NowSmellThis columnist Kevin for his review.)

My Favorite Part

2007-12-21T15:24:00.000-08:00

We are coming upon the holidays.

When those who are fortunate feel family and friends contracting around them to that tight core of silence, light, calm and peace.

I am very fortunate.

Happy Holidays to all.

and I just received what I know will be one of my favorite gifts this year, a CD of The Meditations of Diogenes the Cynic, featuring the Nearly Ready for PrimeTime Waking Ambrose Players. Doug, thank you for pulling us together with your inimitable mix of philosophy, humor and curmudgeonism ... now, entering its third year. Merry Christmas, D!

Half In Jest, Fully In Earnest

2007-12-16T10:11:00.001-08:00

Santa, please add these to my list. All of them.

Scotches offered at the Scotch Malt Whiskey Society, Edinburgh

Santa? A Word.

2007-12-12T19:46:00.000-08:00

Steve Madden suede boots. Tianna. In black suede and gray suede.

Autocide

2007-12-08T08:43:00.000-08:00

Luke 17:33 "Whoever seeks to keep his life will lose it, and whoever loses his life will preserve it.*

Autocide. Not the killing of your Volkswagen.

The purposeful changing of self to the extreme extent that you are, for all intents, not the person you were before.

Can therapy -- or analysis -- achieve that? Do you think it is possible for a human to undertake such a deep understanding and reworking of the self?

This must sound insane to those who doubt the validity of psychiatry, specifically talk therapy or analysis.

Do we have the ability to, of our own volition, remake the self?

I don't think so. Not of volition.

But I believe the trauma of change, whether externally- or internally-provoked, can be the abrasion that sands a soul smooth. And that reaction to, and impact of, daily life then causes a new entity, like callus, to form over that naked surface of being.

As I write this, it sounds crazy and glib. But this process is death-dealing, on more than one level.

To lose your self is a grieving, painful, painful process. And the rebuilding is a hesitant, chancy endeavor that means living in fear a great deal of the time. Fear of more loss, fear of not regaining any semblance of what was lost.

But, if a human comes to this point in life, for whatever reason, autocide was not a choice. It was an imperative.

And you very much want to live ... with the consequences.

photo © c-lab 2007
* a quote abused completely out of context

It's A Mystery

2007-12-02T11:13:00.000-08:00

I just finished doing my absolutely least favorite part of Thanks- giving ... cleaning the carcass and clarifying the broth for the Annual Turkey Soup.

If men really knew where turkey soup and children came from, they wouldn't want either of them.

Rabbit, Rabbit

2007-12-01T07:45:00.000-08:00

Monty Python Killer Rabbit slippers available at thinkgeek.com

Santa Was Not Amused.

2007-11-30T06:31:00.000-08:00

But Ariel and I were.

However, threatened with getting coal in my stocking -- and because I realized there might be more family reading my blog than I remembered (heh.) -- I have removed the post.

And, Doug? We appreciate your ribald riposte. We expected no less.

xoxo
M & A

The (Ink)Well Run Dry

2007-11-25T09:43:00.000-08:00

I am concerned about my writing ... um, what's happened to it? I'm hoping this is a temporary dry period and that, sooner or later, I'll start coughing up full, coherent paragraphs about meaningful topics again.

Part of it is life. Which is busy and full. A full time job is not the friend of creativity. Fatigue and the attempt to maintain my primary relationships leave me with not much time to sit and foment anything but spare, irritable comments on other people's blogs.

I am a great believer in free association and its ability to tap into baserock communal human spirit -- the collective unconscious.

Wish I had time to be still, roam the emptiness and find some content.

Perspective: Time

2007-11-23T10:28:00.000-08:00

Time is too slow for those who wait/ Too swift for those who fear/ Too long for those who grieve/ Too short for those who rejoice/ But for those who love, Time is not.

Henry Van Dyke

Time, Time, Time/ see what's become of me/ While I looked around for my possibilities/ I was so hard to please.

Paul Simon

We're captive on the carousel of time/ We can't return we can only look behind/ From where we came/ And go round and round and round/In the circle game.

Joni Mitchell

If you're lost you can look/ And you will find me/ Time after time/ If you fall I will catch you--/ I will be waiting/ Time after time.

Cyndi Lauper

Getting Ready for Thanksgiving ...

2007-11-21T20:43:00.000-08:00

No, no, beauty takes second place to ...

the baking of pie,
the shredding of dry bread for dressing
the spicing of yams
the peeling of potatoes
the slicing of brussels sprouts
the crushing of cranberries
the opening of cans of creamed corn

.... and tomorrow, the championship, The 11 lb. Turkey. Who knew how gratifying it could be to be up to your elbows in a turkey carcass. Just me, the turkey and some unidentifiable objects. euuuw.

I'm gonna need that Moment of Beauty by the time that menu gets done with me.

Of the many things I'm grateful for, my blogfriends are at the top of my list. Whether poster or lurker, I value -- and thank -- you all.

Happy Thanksgiving 2007.

Praise God, from Whom all blessings flow;
Praise Him, all creatures here below;
Praise Him above, ye Heavenly Host;
Praise Father, Son, and Holy Ghost. Amen.

Aspiration

2007-11-18T17:44:00.000-08:00

Whoever makes love grow boundless, and sets his mind for seeing the end of birth, his fetters are worn thin. If he loves even a single being, good will follow. But the Noble One with compassionate heart for all mankind, generates abounding good.

Buddha

Today I Smell Excellent

2007-11-17T18:32:00.000-08:00

With a slight nod to the original intent of this blog, or at least part of its intent: to bring fragrance to a smelly world ... today I wear my holy grail scent, the scent for which I would forsake all other, if forced to, and I certainly hope that doesn't happen, because all my other bottles would be homeless and that would make me ineffably sad -- and did I mention I got my toes painted fire engine red today? Fun. Oh, right. The fragrance.

Ta'if by Ormonde Jayne. A rose by any other name.

Also, just now, I read a snippet on a piece of artwork featured in someone's decor blog. Here is a paraphrase: "At some time in her life, usually by midlife, a woman makes her most important decision: whether to be bitter." Cheerful, huh? I think you know where I land on this issue.

And Thanksgiving is coming!!!

Image of Ta'if roses by Silvija Seres

Honor Where Honor Is Due

2007-11-11T10:04:00.000-08:00

Veterans Day 2007

With thoughts for all Americans who served honorably wherever they were sent ... including my father.

British children marking the grave of an American soldier of WWI.

What Will It Take for Americans to Redeem Their Humanity?

2007-11-08T20:42:00.000-08:00

The surreal experience of hearing actual debate on PBS about whether waterboarding is torture.

One individual -- a former intelligence officer who has been waterboarded and who has waterboarded other individuals he was training in the technique, says, "It is not simulated drowning, it is actual drowning."

"It is slowly filling another human's lungs with water until they are willing to tell you anything you want to hear. Anything to make it stop. It is torture and it was used by individuals tried in the Nuremburg Trials. It is against all norms of prisoner treatment, including the Geneva Convention."

It has been used in Argentina, in Burma ... in what other countries despised for their absence of human rights?

And yet, the other American in this discussion wants to give the President his "full arsenal, a full toolbox." Dear God.

What does it take for us to redeem our humanity? Haven't we done enough?

One Crone's Perspective

2007-11-04T12:46:00.000-08:00

Main Entry: crone Pronunciation: \ˈkrōn\ Function: noun Etymology: Middle English, a term of abuse, from Anglo-French caroine, charoine dead flesh — more at carrion Date: 14th century : a withered old woman Merriam-Webster Online

One of my favorite -- ok, my favorite -- bloggers used the term "crone" in a recent post and I want to understand why I have such a visceral negative reaction to that term.

It ranks right up there with "old lady perfume."

I think it's having a stereotype pushed up into one's face. It may not have been intended as a pejorative -- we need to own our own reactions -- but I am bristling.

Again.

Why am I so sensitive to the idea that I am a woman of a certain age? Because it's at such a variance with how I feel, how I look, what I do, who I am.

And this blog mention isn't the only place I'm finding my nerves vibrating on top of my skin at the idea that I'm getting old. And I'm a woman. So I am getting to be an old woman.

But, but ...

Being a 56 year old woman is nothing like I thought it would be.

It's more fun. More alive. I'm more free, and more sensual, better looking and smarter than I thought 56 year old women were. More than I was at 26.

Maybe my emotional reactivity needs to catch up with my reality. Actually understanding that living well is the best revenge against age and inevitability.

I intend to bring new meaning to "Live hard. Die (young). Leave a beautiful corpse." Two out of three won't be bad.

All Saints' Day and Día de los Muertos

2007-11-01T06:21:00.001-07:00

Rabbit! Rabbit!

A True Ghost Story ... for Halloween

2007-10-27T11:03:00.000-07:00

In the early 70s I was a college student at the University of Washington. I was attending class during summer term, I was living in a small ground-floor studio apartment in Seattle near Portage Bay on Lake Union, and it was hot that night.

I was sewing curtains, I think -- the windows were bare and open, I remember. It was probably midnight -- I was still a night owl then and I would be active until maybe 1 or 2 in the morning when I didn't have to be at class early the next day. My next door neighbor was either gone or asleep.

It was warm enough that I had cut-off jeans on, and a t-shirt. My hair was short which, weirdly, I have come to think was very important. I was absorbed in what I was doing until I was distracted by a noise outside.

When I went to the window, the porch light revealed a man outside, who apparently had just stepped away from peering in my window, but who was still facing me head on. I could clearly see his face, and the fact that in the July heat he had on a long, dark trench coat. One of his arms was through the sleeve, but the other arm was hidden within the coat, as if he had a sling on it.

I ran to the door and locked it -- it had been ajar. And then I looked out the window again.

The man was still there. He grinned at me. And slowly turned and walked away.

I called the police, who dutifully showed up, took my report and told me to keep my door locked and my blinds drawn. I had been thoroughly scared ... and the creepy event stayed dormant in my memory for years.

Until the day I saw a picture in a magazine of the man who had stood outside my apartment that night.

His name was Ted Bundy.

The Right Gauge

2007-10-17T19:59:00.000-07:00

The strangest things remind me of my mother. (I am a knit blog addict and everytime I see something particularly fine, I think of her.)

She was an exceptional knitter ... of the most complicated, most finely wrought knit goods. I still have sweaters she knit for herself, each stitch perfectly shaped and each stitch perfectly proportioned (I think knitters call this knitting to gauge).

Really, this said a lot about how disciplined she was ... these perfect artifacts reflected her perfectionism, her sense of color, her appreciation of good design.

I loved her. And now, though I knit myself, I'll never be able to match her.

Maybe her knitting was the gauge of her person. Contained, beautifully crafted, unique.

I miss her.

Painting by Adrienne Hauch

The Avoidant Personality

2007-10-07T10:03:00.000-07:00

Sometimes I wince at things I see in books and on TV. I will walk out of the room if a show about dog abuse is advertised. I am no fan of war movies, of the TV show 24, or shows with vivid depiction of poverty.

(I admit a perverse attraction to the old COPS show, especially if it involves car chases or police running through the bushes chasing a hairy guy in a wifebeater tshirt who grows marijuana in his backyard.)

I don't like mordant displays of emotionalism, I don't like it when other people's emotion pulls emotion out of me. Do that and I will close the gate and pull up the drawbridge against you.

So, does this qualify as an avoidant personality?

Probably not ,according to DSM-IV-TR, whose definition deals heavily in inability to navigate the real world.

Hey, I can navigate the real world. It's just, in a lot of cases, I choose not to.

photo: a castle in Kansas, a WPA project circa 1936, Coronado Heights, KS.

My Back Hurts

2007-10-01T19:43:00.000-07:00

Yes, this looks like my spine. But I have SIX screws (*preen*) and I've sprained my spine below them. It hurts and I'm crabby. Wish me well, ok? I will be very grateful to you. xoxo

Aaaand, Rabbit, Rabbit!

* *

2007-09-23T10:42:00.001-07:00

Home Is ...

2007-09-22T11:04:00.000-07:00

I read a line in a blog this morning that caught me: "home is where your graves are."

And then I thought about how very spread out my "home" is.

My grandmother in a flat, barren cemetery outside of Independence, Kansas, buried alongside her mother, father and three of her sisters. My grandfather five miles away, in a wooded plot, buried with his people, my great-grandfather and great-great-grandfather, both with insignia on their graves marking them as civil war veterans (my great grandfather ran away at 14 to join the Union Army, where his father already served).

My infant sister, buried in Albuquerque, New Mexico.

My father, in Xenia, Ohio, a grave I've never seen. My mother, in Everett, Washington, in a hilly gravesite which had a space for my stepfather. Hope she kicked him when he landed.

Wonder where I'll end up? Hopefully ashes spread in the places I've lived and loved. Ann Arbor and Seattle. Maybe a few teaspoons in Kansas.

Provocateur

2007-09-19T19:23:00.000-07:00

It has been eons since I wrote a perfume review ... and I just don't have it in me to do one tonight.

However, I wore Agent Provocateur today and had a whole day of thinking, "Who smells so good? Oh, it's ME!"

Here's Provocateur review redux (from C'est Chic June 13, 2006):

According to Wikipedia, "agent provocateur is a person employed to associate with suspected individuals or groups with the purpose of inciting them to commit acts which will make them liable for punishment ... "" ... as a proper noun, Agent Provocateur may refer to ... a British lingerie brand ..." which coincidentally has a fragrance of the same name. One of my favorites, Agent Provocateur is a seductive vapor of Moroccan rose, Indian saffron, Egyptian jasmine, French magnolia oil, vetivert, amber, and animalic musk. See? Not all bad.

And You Know What They Compare Sneezes To

2007-09-17T19:39:00.000-07:00

I like to write when I feel spiteful. It is like having a good sneeze.
DH Lawrence

Ha! I Know Who's Singing the I-Pod Nano Song

2007-09-16T19:09:00.000-07:00

One Two Three Four

Tell me that you love me more

Sleepless long nights

That is what my youth was for

Old teenage hopes are alive at your door

Left you with nothing but they want some more

Oh, you're changing your heart

Oh, You know who you are

Sweetheart bitterheart now I can tell you apart

Cozy and cold, put the horse before the cart

Those teenage hopes who have tears in their eyes

Too scared to own up to one little lie

Oh, you're changing your heart

Oh, you know who you are

One, two, three, four,

five, six, nine, or ten

Money can't buy you back the love that you had then

One, two, three, four,

five, six, nine, or ten

Money can't buy you back the love that you had then

Oh, you're changing your heart

Oh, you know who you are

Oh, you're changing your heart

Oh, you know who you are

Oh, who you are ...

--Feist

Oh. I Remembered That Post.

2007-09-13T19:11:00.000-07:00

Let us now speak of the air sickness bag.

And of the world traveler who sat behind us on the flight from Detroit to Seattle. The flight in which all 200 or so of us sat on the plane, holding hands and singing kumbyah during the hour delay during which our pilot sonorously intoned that "well, folks, our hydraulics on one side were over serviced and we'll have just a little wait here while we get that other side balanced." Whatever that meant.

Anyway, we have a world traveler behind us. Who is a corporate traveler with zillions of frequent flyer miles because he travels the world. A distinguished gentleman who is loudly proclaiming his experience just yesterday in the Senate chamber, almost simultaneously with his loud proclamation to the flight attendant that he needs "two vodkas, a little ice and a touch of bloody mary mix." He did this two and a half times(totalling five drinks) before takeoff.

We got a few more insights into his professional endeavors (in Africa and in the Senate chamber), as well as his vast and unending love for "my beautiful bride who I've slept with for 41 years" before he started retching and throwing up into the aforementioned air sickness bag.

The flight attendant was not impressed. The passenger sitting beside the sick world traveler was not impressed, and managed to work into the conversation a question about whether his seatmate had been exposed to Ebola during his travels.

I think it was the five drinks. Before takeoff.

Back from the Midwest

2007-09-11T19:34:00.001-07:00

And I am so tired I forgot the blogpost I was sure I had when I was sitting on the plane ... I sure hope it comes back ... and, btw, I had a VERY good time.

Thanks for the corn, Dianne! And Tony says thanks for the cream sticks!!

Labor Day 2007

2007-09-02T20:33:00.000-07:00

Per wikipedia, the American Labor Day is a holiday that began in 1882, inaugurated by the Central Labor Union as a holiday off for the "working man." Today it's a day of rest and the symbolic end of summer.

"Hammering Man," Borofsky, Seattle Art Museum

Philosopher Rabbit, Rabbit

2007-09-01T07:02:00.000-07:00

For reasons that will become obvious, please visit Doug's Waking Ambrose blog today (and, um, please listen to the sound file for today's episode of Diogenes at Delphi.)

http://bitterbierce.blogspot.com/

*I'm shameless, SHAMELESS*

Here's to a wise and honest September.

Ten Years Gone

2007-08-31T19:09:00.000-07:00

Rest in peace, Diana.

c'est chic

On Vacation from Blogging

A Special Post for Doug

I Dream of Truro

Traffic Circle Still Life

Rabbit, Rabbit!

Green Fairy

All I Know I Learn From Google

Always Look On The Bright Side of Life ..

Can You Color Inside The Lines?

Bastille Day

Independence Day 2008

Rabbit, Rabbit

Top Five Motivators

Peonies and Heritage Roses

Falling Out of Love

Rabbit, Rabbit

Shaal Nur

Earth Day 2008

I Got Something Anyway

A Memory of Pesach

Once Upon A Dream

Do Not Wound If You Cannot Kill

Old Clothes

An Ordinary Man Who Did Extraordinary Things

Tibet

Rabbit, Rabbit!

Quoth Morpheus...

Odo Nnyew Fie Kwan Frame*

I'm a Classicist *preen*

Earth Hour: 3/29/08 8 p.m.

Idiomatic Logic Going On In My Head

Tea and Oranges that Come All the Way from China

Easter 2008

It's Spring!

Happy St. Patrick's Day!

Palm Sunday

Why Are We Numb? Why We Are Numb.

Looks Weird. Can't Wait.

Excerpt from Newsweek ...

Rick Astley Would Never ...

Rabbit, Rabbit!

Favorite Mary Chapin Carpenter Song

Don't Drink and Knit

Hillary! Stop It!

Happy Ogre Day

Happy Valentine's Day

Washington Caucus Precinct 1266

I Feel Good!

This Perfume Makes Me Unreasonably Happy

One. More. Time.

Hope, Idealism, Sacrifice, Redemption

RABBIT, RABBIT!

What A Great Valentine's Day Present!

War & Peace

Rich Hippie Wild Thing

Suffrage

When You're On The Lucky End of US Health Care

Enough is Enough.

The Power of (Your) Thought(s)

Distraction

Talking Is Good. Doing is Better.

Next Thursday at 9 am and, Yes, I Am Scared

Lingerie.

Harborview

Happy Happy New Year! Rabbit! Rabbit!

2008

The Best of 2007

The World Is Tired Right Now

Benazir Bhutto

Christmas Cakewalk

My Favorite Part

Half In Jest, Fully In Earnest

Santa? A Word.

Autocide

It's A Mystery

Rabbit, Rabbit

Santa Was Not Amused.

The (Ink)Well Run Dry

Perspective: Time

I'm a Classicist preen