Archive for February, 2000

dosin' the baby

February 29, 2000

don’t keep dosing the baby. that’s one of the things i learned the other day. that kid in self who doesn’t know the name of anything but has a cat-like feel for what’s really going on. ontogeny recapitulates phylogeny they say. i know that’s greek to most. ontogeny is the development of the fetus in the womb, roughly. phylogeny is the evolutionary tree key to classifying animals and other relatives of ours. in the womb, the fetus recapitulates evolution, some say, explaining why human embryos, for example, develop gills early on and then undevelop them.

just so, each day you live out the entire story of your life. you are born in the morning and before you slam down that coffee you are still as innocent and vulnerable as a newborn. forcing yourself into adolescence before your time, you head out into the world, probably driving too fast, to meet your destiny, your job. at the end of the day you are more tired and weary than you expect. your faculties fade with that second glass of wine. you’ve eaten too much. before long you are missing part of the conversation and finally you give in to blessed sleep.

need new nipple

February 27, 2000

i need a new nipple! my amazingly compact NEC Ready 20LT laptop, Oyster, has one of those nipple-pointing-device controllers between (among) the G, H, and B keys. I kind of like it, but the rubber thingie started wearing through months ago and now does nothing to protect my fingertips from the plastic stick itself. another drawback is that i sometimes add b or were g to my e-mail in random places, which people might think means <g> something i almost *never* write.

i changed my homepage recently as a way of debuting a piece of a piece i improvised listening to a band called SKB jamming live, called “Stop Me if You’ve Heard This One,” about the neverending sentence.

collabors of love

February 13, 2000

been refribbing a collaborative writing project. ran into the limits of what i could do all by myself some years back and been on a quest to discovers modes of collaboration with other people whose talents i admire and with whom i can imagine a good fit. there’ve been false starts and some very satisfying projects (such as Coffeehouse), but i’m still learning a lot about getting the best out of myself and from others.

best of chores

February 8, 2000

cleaned out the upper drawer of my subconscious over the weekend, spread it out all over the floor between the piano and the stereo (sorted the tapes and cds and semifinished recording projects while i was at it). that space on the floor is some kind of power spot. if it wasn’t before, it is now, what with all the green and pink powdery dust and tiny slivered sherds of watch crystal.

an enema for the head i called it later.

later, i paid all the bills. solvent again, what a relief. made it to the other shore. again. i know most of you don’t know exactly what i’m talking about but some of you know what i’m talking about enough, i think, to appreciate it, and a few know exactly what i mean.

origins and other myths

February 8, 2000

Got a call from my mom yesterday. I’d just sent her some printed out e-mail messages from her brother. I’d asked him to tell me some stories from their time growing up in Erie, Pa. and about his family and his mom’s family. I’m beginning to worry about losing the lore from the past, and my dad has always drilled his family story into my skull so it took a while to remember that that could only be half of my own history. My uncle Tom’s tales are fascinating and remarkably well written (that was part of what my mom was calling to comment on – she noted how “easily read” his letters were and noticed, perhaps for the first time, what a good writer he is).

It’s been 25 years since I lost my three living grandparents all in the same year, before I’d even turned 10. That loss has taken all this time to sink in completely and is now expressing itself as a fear of losing the past. My father just buried another one of his brothers, his favorite, and I worry that the songs and stories, jokes and riddles, puns and quibbles of my past are fading, irretrievably. That’s why I’m glad I asked Tom to set down some of his thoughts and memories. My mom was glad too. There’s stuff in there she’d never heard before.

sunday at nobayview

February 6, 2000

funny how everyone i talk to found topsy-turvy too slow or boring or with too much of the mikado in it. perhaps it was just the meticulously recreated world of the props and costumes, but i was enchanted by the film. then again, i grew up with the pinafore and penzance and the mikado on my dad’s stereo nearly as much as beethoven, mozart, and sinatra.

just caught up with an old friend and had a great time comparing notes on the world, technology today, adulthood, and talking in silly voices.

locked out of enterzone for security reasons, i was mildly frustrated this morning, but i’m getting it sorted out now (my generous host updating his list of permissible IP numbers) and still looking forward to sprucing up the old place. got a big backlog of yummy stuff and had a great conversation with a friend in s.f. who’d be embarassed if i called her my design guru to her face, but it’s true. thinking now i’d like to brush up on server-side includes to make the navigation a little smarter, easier, and more elegant. a form’s based posting system like they use here at diaryland (which i persist in thinking of as dairyland) and at pitas would sure be copacetic.

file under sounds just as good on cd as it did live: phil lesh, steve kimock, al schnier, mike kang, kyle hollingsworth, and john molo at the greek last summer playing footprints. it rocks. as kimock said later, “it got up and did the boogaloo.”

lazy long weekend

February 5, 2000

spent the whole morning in bed, lounging, lazing, and reading to b. it started raining outside and the wind is still whipping tree branches against the windows of our house, as it’s been doing for the last few days. ever since monday i’ve been experiencing the bearable lightness of being, and i’ve been almost manic with spontaneous joy and enthusiasm.

b and i played hooky yesterday, saw a matinee of the cider house rules, and took it easy until our weekly yoga class at 5:45. yoga took some of that new energy of mine and gave it an appropriate outlet. after the final resting posture, shavasna, for nearly 15 minutes, i felt peaceful and relaxed, in a natural endorphic afterglow.

today i’m going to tackle some of the Enterzone backlog, and then we’re seeing another movie, topsy-turvy, at 5 before eating a late dinner out. life without nagging guilt and glimmers of responsibilities unfulfilled will take some getting used to, but i’m game for it!

good morning, sunshine

February 3, 2000

woke up this morning to a glimpse of pink reflections in a crystal blue sky out the windows of my room. though i’m neither menopausal nor, for that matter, female, i have been waking up in the middle of the night many nights with hot sweats for nearly the last year. when this happens, i often leave the big bed and move to the cot-sized one in my “office.” sometimes fraidy hears me moving around and starts her scratching on the door, regardless of the time. cats are nocturnal, after all.

i’ve been experiencing an “up” mood this week without any of the hallmarks of mania. as i explained to syrup yesterday, it’s not that i’m happy all the time. instead, i am content, and my moods and feelings radiate from me with a kind of clarity and transparency that i can’t remember from any time in my sentient, language-using life. thus, the pink glow of sunrise this a.m. felt to me like a blessing, an opportunity to revel in the glory of the world, another day of this humane, down-to-earth state of grace. i’m not saying i thought all that. it was a feeling, you know? they don’t translate to words exactly, but i’m a writer and i can’t help trying.

shallow breathing

February 1, 2000

peak flow meter at 460 today, finally starting tracking it in earnest after paying lip service to my general practitioner all this time. people die from asthma. two close friends of briggs’ have died from it within the last decade. i have to treat this like any other chronic condition. it’s so hard to think of oneself as “sick” or in need of constant treatment or therapy, but i’m slowly getting used to it. the first step was remembering to take an antihistamine every night. now i do it without even thinking, even when i drunk, stoned, or just logey after a long work day. i’m still holding out hope for a “cat-allergy vaccine.” if the day ever comes, i can invite the neighbor cat, Fraidy, in to play without fear. as it is, she comes by and meows plaintively and scratches on the door panes like a speed freak most evenings. can you say “familiar”?