Fresh news: my holiday post was picked up by pandagon. They called it remarkable. I’m not about to quibble. However while I say grateful I mean I am grateful for The Constitution, The First Amendment, the people who wrote it; the people who keep it alive and for the average everyday person to whom this is a non-issue. But you all knew that anyway.
First, GlOB has a post where she matches bloggers to songs. She had “Wonderful Tonight” for me, and I totally freaked because I worshipped at the god of Clapton, and that was my single favorite song for years. Eric ties with Charlie Watts as the best dressed older man in rock; and ties with Mick as best aging. Though Eric’s way better looking and would win on that, dress and general demeanor, Mick has something.
GLOB, you remind me of “There must be an angel.” Consider it an honor; it’s a summer beach song, and I love Annie Lennox–actually that whole albumn–Ball & Chain makes me happy. She’s kind of the anti angst singer; personally and this is sacralige for many reasons and on many levels, I like her better than Madonna.
I forgot to acknowledge Festivus, in my holiday list. Bone I especially apologize to you as I know how much time you have spent preparing for it. I am sorry for that glaring and horrible omission. As I want to grad school at the height of political correctness and got an education in PC rather than–what was my field, again? Oh right social work; we spent so little time learning theory and so much time learning that no white male could ever be oppressed, I took straight white males as my minority group of choice. I am contrary; and was angry that I was spending so much money to not be academically challenged.
I had notes from Boston University where I was an undergrad in a grad program, and still had some of my notebooks and hand outs. It was so superior and yet the grad school I went to has an excellent reputation and seems to be giving more academically challenging courses now. As an allumna I can audit classes for a hundred bucks so I might just to get my monies worth.
I have been in a weird mood all day. I’m not very good at self promotion, and I keep on thinking that the blurb above will be a kinehorah, evil eye. I have literally spent thousands of hours blogging this past year. Blogging isn’t writing in the traditional sense. It’s conversation.
Decided I’m the indie cult type blogger. Parker Posey meets Janis Joplin. Like I said I’m in a weird mood. I realized a while ago that I would have to relearn conventional style. I have just finished the ninth complete revision of the first chapter. Think I have it down.
However blogging is a release so I will continue in stream of style. Almost wish the blurb didn’t mention Stephanie as I bear her no malice. We’re a generation apart, and have very different voices. Then there’s the kinehorah thing. But why can she whine just because she has a Judith Regan book contract, and I feel that if I complain, the darn kinehorah would come down on me.
Feel as if I have been tapping in place, and might not have moved forward this past year though it’s been much fun, and I feel blessed to have met so many wonderful people. How can I say that I was exhausted last night, but didn’t go to sleep until Midnight because my apartment had minimal heat, and then at 3 AM I threw the three comforters, the athletes winter wool socks, and the flannel robe with hood on, off, jumped out of bed, felt the wall which was boiling hot, and listened to the man upstairs puke to his usual animal noises?
I couldn’t get back to sleep. Promptly at eight the building intercom rang very loudly.
Fernando: “Front desk, Fernando here. John and Manuel are coming up.”
Me: “Anything I should know about?”
Long long long silence. Fernando finally came back on:
“Oh, wrong apartment.”
I muttered an appropriate good bye, and was actually very happy because the super used to come up without notice, except for the two second phone call all the time. As I don’t live a 9 to 5 life I could accept it when necessary but his first couple of years I would leave for work at 9:30 and his coming at 8 was very bad timing.
I’m in the self imposed deadline and the holiday funk, and it is holiday because what do you call the week between Christmas and New Years? Josh said that in a comment and it’s very true. He also has an excellent post on faulty intelligence, and other reasons we’re in this mess.
Don’t usually get in a holiday funk because I’m usually an incurable optimist. However, I spend a lot of time picking myself apart though I know better. My mother would say that the title of my book should be “You are your own worst enemy.” I know that sounds contradictory but I’m total shades of gray. My mother was convinced that I would have a book published. I’m beginning to wonder if she meant 40 years after I die somebody will find my dataport and my book on it. She didn’t know about dataports but….
I have a psychological condition that’s not listed in the DSMIV, where my mood goes up and down according to the state of the country. I am a Cancer; when I was a kid I wanted to be born on the Fourth of July.
Sleeping in minimal heat then waking to stifling heat is exhausting. I have a right to complain; I’m not talking about my horrible life and how everybody treats me. I’m talking about my usually good life and how I treat me.
Then I get over it. Life really is good; my life sometimes feels in permanent change mode. That’s not bad as it keeps me fresh and okay, younger than I have a right to be.