PICS
i am going to be a pseudo groupie come midjune--my boy is touring in select locations cross country and i am planning on being a lil stowaway so i can see a bit more of this country i live in. it's a little sad to me that the farthest west i've been is oklahoma.
tentative travel plans are as follows :
june 11th---athens, oh
june 12th---cbus, oh
june13th---bloomington, ind
june 14th---chicago, il
june 15th---urbana, il
june 16th---st. louis, mo
june 17th---omaha, ne
june 18th---denver, co
june 19th---off
june 20th---portland, or
june 21st---eugene, or (??)
june 22nd---san francisco, ca
june 23rd---la, ca
drive back in three days and my birthday is then on the 27th :]
i am excited, i just wish i had some money. the amount i make right now is literally barely enough to pay my rent and buy food. wah wah wah wah i know, why do rich people have all the fun.
lately i feel kinda meh. maybe not entirely meh, but kinda. i've been riding my bike weekly to athens and back, which is about 15 miles or so. it's a really great ride, scenic and enjoyable, and i want to make it a point to keep doing it. but internally i feel less than awesome most of the time. i don't know what i'm doing here. but this isn't really something i care to go into on my blog, you understand.
where is the time ?
i've been all about profiles and big hair lately.
i'm reading a book called "bodymind" for my ethics class right now. it talks about how the mind shapes the body, and the body the mind, ultimately saying they are the same. what do your feet say about you ? i would share some excerpts and thoughts, but i am a bit sleepy this evening and still have a scarf to finish for someone.
together, we'll take over the universe
tentative travel plans are as follows :
june 11th---athens, oh
june 12th---cbus, oh
june13th---bloomington, ind
june 14th---chicago, il
june 15th---urbana, il
june 16th---st. louis, mo
june 17th---omaha, ne
june 18th---denver, co
june 19th---off
june 20th---portland, or
june 21st---eugene, or (??)
june 22nd---san francisco, ca
june 23rd---la, ca
drive back in three days and my birthday is then on the 27th :]
i am excited, i just wish i had some money. the amount i make right now is literally barely enough to pay my rent and buy food. wah wah wah wah i know, why do rich people have all the fun.
lately i feel kinda meh. maybe not entirely meh, but kinda. i've been riding my bike weekly to athens and back, which is about 15 miles or so. it's a really great ride, scenic and enjoyable, and i want to make it a point to keep doing it. but internally i feel less than awesome most of the time. i don't know what i'm doing here. but this isn't really something i care to go into on my blog, you understand.
where is the time ?
i've been all about profiles and big hair lately.
i'm reading a book called "bodymind" for my ethics class right now. it talks about how the mind shapes the body, and the body the mind, ultimately saying they are the same. what do your feet say about you ? i would share some excerpts and thoughts, but i am a bit sleepy this evening and still have a scarf to finish for someone.
together, we'll take over the universe
:+ excerpts from " jitterbug perfume " by tom robbins that i enjoyed thoroughly +:
"The beet is the most intense of vegetables. The radish, admittedly, is more feverish, but the fire of the radish is a cold fire, the fire of discontent not of passion. Tomatoes are lusty enough, yet there runs through tomatoes and undercurrent of frivolity. Beets are deadly serious.
Slavic people get their physical characteristics from potatoes, their smoldering inquietude from radishes, their seriousness from beets.
The beet is the melancholy vegetable, the one most willing to suffer. You can't squeeze blood out of a turnip...
The beet is the murderer returned to the scene of the crime. The beet is what happens when the cherry finishes with the carrot. The beet is the ancient ancestor of the autumn moon, bearded, buried, all but fossilized; the dark green sails of the grounded moon-boat stitched with veins of primordial plasma; the kite string that once connected the moon to the earth now a muddy whisker drilling desperately for rubies.
The beet was Rasputin's favorite vegetable. You could see it in his eyes.
In Europe there is grown widely a large beet they call the mangel-wurzel. Perhaps it is mangel-wurzel that we see in Rasputin. Certainly there is mangel-wurzel in th music of Wagner, although it is another composer whose name begins B-e-e-t----.
Of course, there are white beets, beets that ooze sugar water instead of blood, but it is the red beet with which we are concerned; the variety that blushes and swells like a hemorrhoid for which there is no cure. (Actually there is one remedy: commission a potter to make you a ceramic asshole--and when you aren't sitting on it, you can use i as a bowl for borscht.)
An old Ukranian proverb warns, 'A tale that begins with a beet will end with the devil.'
That is a risk we have to take."
"At least I will have tasted the banquet that they have spread before me on this rich, round planet, rather than recoiling from it like a toothless bunny."
"From the thick parabolas of her eyelids to the pronounced balls of her now bare feet, she was a nonstop curve, three nymphs' worth of curve, a foreign contradiction to Greek geometry. The drool hat rained from Pan's lips as he spied on her would have frozen mid-drip had a reliable source told him that she was as old as the grandmothers who milked the goats in nearby valleys, toothless skeletons (this one had a mouthful of pearly brights) whose only curves were in backs bent double over walking sticks."
" 'Ahh, I do love zippers. Zippers remind me o' crocodiles, lobsters, and Aztec serpents. I wish me tweeds had more than the single fly . . . . Zippers are primal and modern at the very same time. On the one hand, your zipper is primitive and reptilian, on the other, mechanical and slick. A zipper is where the Industrial Revolution meets the Cobra Cult, don't you think? Ahh, Little alligators of ecstasy, that's what zippers are. Sexy, too. Now your button, a button is prim and persnickety. There's something Victorian about a row o' buttons. But a zipper, why a zipper is the very snake at the gate of Eden, waitin' to escort a true believer into the Garden. Faith, I should be sewin' more zippers into me garments, for I have many erogenous zones that require speedy access. Mmmm old zipper creeper, hangin head down like the carcass of a lizard; the phantom viper that we shun in daytime and communicate with at night.'
'Here, let me help you with that.' "
" 'Wiggs,' she said, 'all those strange drugs you took, jungle berries and Amazon sap and stuff, not to mention regular old LSD, do you think they might have, you know, physically, uh, barbecued your brain?'
'Oh, no, darlin', none o' that. Sure and they destroyed some cells, no doubt about it, but 'twas for the good. If you want your tree to produce plenty o' fruit, you've got to cut it back from time to time. Same thing with your neural cells. Some people might call it brain damage. I call it prunin'. ' "
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i want it write an uncomfortably sexual poem for my first assignment in writing, i'll post if i like the outcome.
half inch now
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
bye bye now
"The beet is the most intense of vegetables. The radish, admittedly, is more feverish, but the fire of the radish is a cold fire, the fire of discontent not of passion. Tomatoes are lusty enough, yet there runs through tomatoes and undercurrent of frivolity. Beets are deadly serious.
Slavic people get their physical characteristics from potatoes, their smoldering inquietude from radishes, their seriousness from beets.
The beet is the melancholy vegetable, the one most willing to suffer. You can't squeeze blood out of a turnip...
The beet is the murderer returned to the scene of the crime. The beet is what happens when the cherry finishes with the carrot. The beet is the ancient ancestor of the autumn moon, bearded, buried, all but fossilized; the dark green sails of the grounded moon-boat stitched with veins of primordial plasma; the kite string that once connected the moon to the earth now a muddy whisker drilling desperately for rubies.
The beet was Rasputin's favorite vegetable. You could see it in his eyes.
In Europe there is grown widely a large beet they call the mangel-wurzel. Perhaps it is mangel-wurzel that we see in Rasputin. Certainly there is mangel-wurzel in th music of Wagner, although it is another composer whose name begins B-e-e-t----.
Of course, there are white beets, beets that ooze sugar water instead of blood, but it is the red beet with which we are concerned; the variety that blushes and swells like a hemorrhoid for which there is no cure. (Actually there is one remedy: commission a potter to make you a ceramic asshole--and when you aren't sitting on it, you can use i as a bowl for borscht.)
An old Ukranian proverb warns, 'A tale that begins with a beet will end with the devil.'
That is a risk we have to take."
"At least I will have tasted the banquet that they have spread before me on this rich, round planet, rather than recoiling from it like a toothless bunny."
"From the thick parabolas of her eyelids to the pronounced balls of her now bare feet, she was a nonstop curve, three nymphs' worth of curve, a foreign contradiction to Greek geometry. The drool hat rained from Pan's lips as he spied on her would have frozen mid-drip had a reliable source told him that she was as old as the grandmothers who milked the goats in nearby valleys, toothless skeletons (this one had a mouthful of pearly brights) whose only curves were in backs bent double over walking sticks."
" 'Ahh, I do love zippers. Zippers remind me o' crocodiles, lobsters, and Aztec serpents. I wish me tweeds had more than the single fly . . . . Zippers are primal and modern at the very same time. On the one hand, your zipper is primitive and reptilian, on the other, mechanical and slick. A zipper is where the Industrial Revolution meets the Cobra Cult, don't you think? Ahh, Little alligators of ecstasy, that's what zippers are. Sexy, too. Now your button, a button is prim and persnickety. There's something Victorian about a row o' buttons. But a zipper, why a zipper is the very snake at the gate of Eden, waitin' to escort a true believer into the Garden. Faith, I should be sewin' more zippers into me garments, for I have many erogenous zones that require speedy access. Mmmm old zipper creeper, hangin head down like the carcass of a lizard; the phantom viper that we shun in daytime and communicate with at night.'
'Here, let me help you with that.' "
" 'Wiggs,' she said, 'all those strange drugs you took, jungle berries and Amazon sap and stuff, not to mention regular old LSD, do you think they might have, you know, physically, uh, barbecued your brain?'
'Oh, no, darlin', none o' that. Sure and they destroyed some cells, no doubt about it, but 'twas for the good. If you want your tree to produce plenty o' fruit, you've got to cut it back from time to time. Same thing with your neural cells. Some people might call it brain damage. I call it prunin'. ' "
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
i want it write an uncomfortably sexual poem for my first assignment in writing, i'll post if i like the outcome.
half inch now
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
bye bye now
