Quite contrary.
I've a baby-blog that will hopefully be documenting the progress on our community garden. In my links, it is Seeds of change, or garden link
I don't know how much I have in me to write here at the moment, but out of necessity I will be making entries on the other blog, which may seem very focused and perhaps even boring or localized. I guess that's what the midwest has given me.
I started doing yoga on Sunday.
I'm so silly to not be active. I always feel 1000 times better.
I never really got yoga before, it was just like stretching before a ballet class for me.
It's different now.
This is an explanation for the dissipation of all the grim words I've conveyed lately.
I won't get all spiritual on here, at least that isn't where I see myself headed.
Just different, and that is good.
Perhaps I won't die of cancer or ennui after all.
Some days are harder than others to see the good in humans. I'm still an idealist, I do think we could live in a world someday that has no need for guns or violence or hatred. It might not be this world, but I do believe one like that exists, or could. A lot of people just so readily accept what they are told to believe, without questioning the why behind it. I have never been one of those people, and I never will be.
Fear of death is not a justification for me. Justification for weapons, overblown military, walls to keep people in and out, names given to each other to define our differences, lies we tell our children to scare them - not even thinking of the imprint we leave.
The most lethal of all though, is the human mind, capable of such atrocities, that I cannot conceive of how we've survived this long.
It has to stop at some point. There must be a threshold to the pain and sadness, and when we reach it, surely we'll be able to see what we've done and will hopefully be able to mourn the loss of our own humanity.
You won't find me holding my breath.
My ideals remain in tact, and because of this, I still find hope. My words always belie such despair, but I am actually quite the opposite for the most part.
It is hard to get by without a commentary:
This is not an innocent picture.
Time was stopped here,
its laws no longer consulted.
It was denied impact on the developing events,
disregarded and dishonored.
So,
If you were sitting in your house, relaxing, the hour is moving towards 10 pm and you happen to live in a "transitional" neighborhood, such as mine where you hear loud noises on a very consistent basis and on this particular night you hear some pretty nasty sounds coming out of nowhere, but near....what would you guess it to be?
Usually, it's gun shots, this time of year, perhaps fireworks, that's the fun part trying to distinguish between the two. Added to those noises you hear unsupervised children screaming and carrying on, fighting in the street and throwing shit around. There is also the regular drone every few hours of sirens and tires screeching.
You get used to just about anything, I suppose.
Which might explain why my partner and I sat there and kind of muttered "wtf" when we heard this scraping, screeching metallic noise last night. This sound was promptly followed by my neighbor yelling up to our back window that our car had just been hit.
I ran downstairs and found a very large Chevy van attached to the front of our Volvo. Our car had been parked in front of our house but was now close to 30 feet down the street. I recognized the van as the one belonging to one of our neighbors. Said neighbor was fleeing into his apartment as I came out. My other neighbors informed me that he was trying to park and hit our car, got stuck to it, dragged it down the street and then jumped out, grabbed his beer and ran home.
I called the cops and once they arrived we explained it and they went over to his apartment. He had escaped through back door! Drunk!
I don't really understand why he ran, everyone saw him, we know who he is. He had insurance, we think, we're still waiting to hear back from them.
We lament the fact that the car wasn't totalled, as far as we can tell. Now it's just more of a pain in the ass to deal with.
All I can say is that guy is fucking lucky that it wasn't my Mazda he hit. I would have displayed a lot more violence when I saw him fleeing.
I took pictures but they don't quite do justice to the distance that he drug the car.
And he hasn't even come over to apologize. I don't even get the closure, yet, of telling him what a dumb fuck he is.
Maybe I'll get some pictures up a little later.
And, and I know I bitch about my neighborhood a lot, and you're probably saying to yourself about now, "why the hell does she live there?"
That's a good question.
**Update**
That stupid, motherfucker, cocksucking rat bastard doesn't have current insurance. This is all going to come out of our pocket. I will make his life a living hell as long as he lives across the street from me. What bullshit, now I am really pissed off.
Well, I did it. It's been coming, I fought it. I even posted it half-assed on Craigslist once, but deleted it.
I haven't rode the Stella in a year. It's sitting there, being wasted, I want to find someone who can physically enjoy it as much as I do in the asthetic and mental senses.Now it's for real though.
I am sad, but I know that we'll never ride off into the sunset together, the Stella and I.
To quote one of my favourite songs:
Flowers are the things we knew
Secrets are the things we grew
Learn from us very much
Look at us but do not touch
Phaedra is my name (which I named my cat after)
Here are a few images from the garden. It's just starting to explode. I need to get some neighborhood garden pictures.
This year we took out all the grass in the front yard and I decided that on the front of one side I wanted to plant a butterfly/honeybee garden so we have a little field of flowers with the herbs and tomatoes behind and more flowers in the beds. 
I did a lot more seeds this year and most of them have done really well so far. The wisteria was almost killed by the weird weather in April, but it's made a very excellent recovery.
Poppies, I don't have as many as last year, but what I do have seeded themselves.
You may recognize my beautiful assistant, Anya, who was also in last years pictures. In this one you can vaguely see the scar on her face. That's another story I haven't posted about as well. A later post, but briefly, we are back to one dog.
I am defined by my words. Without them I am unraveled and nonsensical. To be colored inside the lines, my own lines, is very important to me, and right now, there are lines all over and they go nowhere and define nothing.
I want to send out a bottle with a very important message, but I'm not sure what it is, or if I do, then I'm somehow irrationally scared to actually say it.
Have no doubt, when I do, I'm sure that it will shake the reality of a few,
or,
perhaps not.
This is where I waver, between being something,
and being completely eclipsed by nothing.
And yet, the image still shimmers, and yet, I am still waiting for the feast, and yet, I have something to say.
Nine-year-old boy to friends: Don't be talking smack about Jesus. He was one of our greatest presidents!
Hip chick in black whose dog poops in street: No! No! Jesus fucking Christ! [Looks up and notices she's in front of large church.] Oops.
(My Favorite)
High school boy: He's like a fat homeless Jesus who stole a rich man's coat.
Soccer mom to another: You know, Friday nights are always a great time for Jesus.
Student on phone: All I have to say about being friends with Jesus is that unlimited fish sandwiches and wine doesn't sound like a bad deal.
Crazy guy: Praise Jesus! But stay outta my way -- I will stab you.
Girl to friend: I mean, come on -- who really cares about Jesus?
Young wife sighing: All I pray for is a gay son.
Husband: All our sons will be straight.
Young wife: Just the youngest one can be gay. I need one gay son. You won't even notice.
Husband: No, it won't happen. Costa Ricans don't have gay sons. And I want my name passed on.
Young wife: I'll wait until you go to work, then put makeup and heels on him and let him be himself. I need someone to talk to when you are gone.
I was saddened to see that we lost Mr. Vonnegut yesterday. As much as I tell you this loss has affected me, I must not be that great of a fan because I got him mixed up in my head with Tom Robbins (shame) and was thinking of how much I loved his book, "Still Life with Woodpecker".
Only after thinking about the great Outlaw bits did I realize that it wasn't even his book! I'm ashamed to be mixing my authors like an amateur drinker mixing their liquors.
It adds up to many things being just a tad off today, beginning with me running around the neighborhood at 5:30 am searching for my escaped dog. I am supposed to leave for Colorado tomorrow morning, probably right around the time this possible blizzard is supposed to be at it's height. Damn, I'm torn if I should wait. I don't want to, dare I risk it?
I will leave you with this thought from Kurt, himself:
Hopefully my trip will be at the top of this chart, as much as I love Kafka, I don't want to be in a story with falling pianos and endless waits at gates that never open.
I had almost forgot for the most part a piece of my childhood. It wasn't really a huge, glaring light in my memories, but it left it's impression.
From the time I was born until I was around 8 or so, my parents were Jehovah Witnesses, actually my mom's whole family had been, all eight children and parents. Most of them dropped out over time, but I still had a few relatives that were lingering in the Kingdom Hall mentality.
The only impact this had on me is to be completely disassociated from traditions and holiday cheer. I still, to this day could care less about most holidays and don't get all the hype. However, I LOVE my birthday and still consider it the most important day of the year.
I was reminded today after reading this article how I did actually know some completely messed up people through that group of freaks. Not all of them were, my parents never forced it down our throats and we didn't get beat. But my cousin did, many times, and if we were over at her house, we got it too. That aunt didn't let us come over as we got older since we weren't in the "cult" anymore. I laugh now when I look back and remember that people used to call me "a Jehovah", and how they didn't realize they were calling me a god.
All in all, they are just about as creepy as the Mormons, and talk about judgemental!
Apparently there are a lot of other people out there that don't care for them, and most of these people have some kind of experience with them. I truly do regret not drinking the wine, if I'm not one of the 144,000, then who the fuck is, seriously?
Here are just a few instances of crazy stuff they do, or stuff crazy people say they do:
Steal your family
For the recovering Jehovah
There are things that will end, that were fought for valiantly, honestly and with hope. As in every defeat there are things that are to be learned, and hopefully with the end of one thing, it will give rise to the birth of another.
The things I hope do not disappear completely:
Young people with vision and hope for a better future
Collaboration between people that want to see positive change
The possibility that a city so deeply entrenched in racial barriers from days past can overcome the divide and move forward
The things I realized yesterday were not pleasant, I am not sure that I want to pour all of my energy into an area that is so full of peoople intent on keeping the status quo which includes vacant, falling down buildings, drugs, crime, prostitution, poverty, trash, etc.
It's unfathomable to me that people can look at my neighborhood and think that it's doing well, and that current leadership has its residents best interests in mind. This being said, I'm not giving up the fight completely. I'm just going to focus on very specific problems and do what I can. What I know I will not do is invest my time or money into opening a business in this area. I own a home here and I will protect that interest, that is all.
I shouldn't be surprised, or appalled or ever so disgusted; but I am. I've been quite drawn in by some of the political stuff going on in my little area of the world. I've been on a rollercoaster of disgust for humans in general, to hope for humans and the nice little things they can do, back to a strong desire to withdraw my membership to the species.
Yet, there are some very good things coming about very soon.
I will be in Colorado in April. I haven't got the invitation out to everyone (everyone that matters, that is), but there will be a Geisha party of sorts taking place. I will give more details soon.
In a week I should have more energy and time to update my thoughts more frequently.
Hopefully the return will bring more humor, Lord Shiva knows I need it.
