The more I see these days, the more aghast I become. I've got a lot of things on my mind to rant about, thus I'm preparing to bring back (though it was very brief while it lasted) "I Got Beef" rants. Only this time, I plan on not only ranting, but picking and choosing certain companies and people of import to direct my raving too. I not only intend to post those thoughts here, but to send them out to the proper people.
This will help myself sort through my own feelings (hopefully to inspire creativity and rid myself of writer's block) and maybe even feel a little bit like I've made a difference.
Wednesday, April 28, 2010
Tuesday, April 27, 2010
Going Back
I've been in a state of confusion regarding writing topics. I've also been in a rut with my dreams which not only affects my mental well-being, but also my writing. A lot of what I write is inspired by a dream or thought. Instead, I've been waking up tired and dreamless. I've had nothing to look forward to when I wake up which makes me feel even more tired. It's a morning routine to recant to myself what adventures I've been on while slumbering.
I'm not sure how to improve my dreams, but I've been returning to old (and unfinished) writings to try and siphon creativity from them. Here is something old that I'm working on completing. It kind of falls apart, but the first paragraph flows beautifully (in my mind) and I would love to complete it. The second one kind of jumbles around and I enjoy the third one. It all needs a lot of work and, cross your fingers, hopefully I can manage to work something out.
How sweet the sound of keys pressed softly in the dim glow of a fading sun. While dusky shadows trace a silhouette, fingers fold over the twinkle of each ivory bone. In the cramped corridors of what was once a pulsing nightclub, the silhouette plays for no one.
Outside, the city bustles. Like ants scavenging, the people follow an invisible trail, eyes trained to the floor. The pavement slops, wet with a gritty dirt that coats the city's streets and walls. Yet, the people don't see this. The streets are packed with jostling arms and pendulum legs swinging back and forth, back and forth, with no thought. People seem to move regardless of destination or will. Out here people have all the time in the world, but can't stop to breathe, or think, or listen.
From deep in the heart of the jungle grown from seeds of concrete and vines of steel comes a most unusual occurrence. Something has changed. People walk with the same automatic movement, but something, perhaps, seems different. Through the heavy stale sound of silence, a certain brightness brews. For most, the brightness, the twinkling lightness is a sensation almost forgotten.
He bleeds in a pool of inky black, slipping with his eyes closed. Around him business suits clatter by, each sleeve ending in a pale hand grasping the sleek leather handle of a briefcase. Skirts cut business appropriate short swing past, the puff of air moving slight his hair. His pants soak slow in the warm wet of his own life and when he opens his eyes, he’s staring at crotches jostling and cloth covered butts shuffling away.
It’s warm in his head, in a most unusual way. The leak in his side throbs less making it easier to focus, easier to steady himself on the ground. But with each movement, the warmness in his head seeps as if hot blood had never reached
I'm not sure how to improve my dreams, but I've been returning to old (and unfinished) writings to try and siphon creativity from them. Here is something old that I'm working on completing. It kind of falls apart, but the first paragraph flows beautifully (in my mind) and I would love to complete it. The second one kind of jumbles around and I enjoy the third one. It all needs a lot of work and, cross your fingers, hopefully I can manage to work something out.
How sweet the sound of keys pressed softly in the dim glow of a fading sun. While dusky shadows trace a silhouette, fingers fold over the twinkle of each ivory bone. In the cramped corridors of what was once a pulsing nightclub, the silhouette plays for no one.
Outside, the city bustles. Like ants scavenging, the people follow an invisible trail, eyes trained to the floor. The pavement slops, wet with a gritty dirt that coats the city's streets and walls. Yet, the people don't see this. The streets are packed with jostling arms and pendulum legs swinging back and forth, back and forth, with no thought. People seem to move regardless of destination or will. Out here people have all the time in the world, but can't stop to breathe, or think, or listen.
From deep in the heart of the jungle grown from seeds of concrete and vines of steel comes a most unusual occurrence. Something has changed. People walk with the same automatic movement, but something, perhaps, seems different. Through the heavy stale sound of silence, a certain brightness brews. For most, the brightness, the twinkling lightness is a sensation almost forgotten.
He bleeds in a pool of inky black, slipping with his eyes closed. Around him business suits clatter by, each sleeve ending in a pale hand grasping the sleek leather handle of a briefcase. Skirts cut business appropriate short swing past, the puff of air moving slight his hair. His pants soak slow in the warm wet of his own life and when he opens his eyes, he’s staring at crotches jostling and cloth covered butts shuffling away.
It’s warm in his head, in a most unusual way. The leak in his side throbs less making it easier to focus, easier to steady himself on the ground. But with each movement, the warmness in his head seeps as if hot blood had never reached
Monday, April 26, 2010
Scans
I've been rooting through old family pictures per my mom's request and scanning them onto my computer. I have about 40 so far and will keep on sifting through the countless albums. It is fun and nostalgic and makes me want to create some sort of crafty project that's not lame or boring or tedious as a scrapbook or photo album.
Until then, here are some particular favorites thus far.
My mom in Korea when she was a young lady. Isn't she beautiful?
My mom at the Korean airport the day she left for the US.
My mom and dad. Look at those buffet prices! Hot dog!
The sisters. Janice is at the top, Angie on the left, and yours truly on the right.
Goofy family picture.
I think this is the Grand Canyon. Wherever it is, it's blustery.
Some sort of school day.
Gaby and I. Best friends till the day one of us croaks!
Until then, here are some particular favorites thus far.
My mom in Korea when she was a young lady. Isn't she beautiful?
My mom at the Korean airport the day she left for the US.
My mom and dad. Look at those buffet prices! Hot dog!
The sisters. Janice is at the top, Angie on the left, and yours truly on the right.
Goofy family picture.
I think this is the Grand Canyon. Wherever it is, it's blustery.
Some sort of school day.
Gaby and I. Best friends till the day one of us croaks!Tuesday, April 20, 2010
Volcanic
Discovered this and thought it was amazing. I've always liked volcanoes and have always wanted to see the Northern Lights. And there's mysterious lightning, you say, that can't be explained by scientists? There's no way I could pass up looking at this. Oh, and there are pictures of horses being guided to safety. Beautiful horses, no less.
It's a good day.
Volcanic Eruptions Here!
Hopefully by later this week I will have something original to show ya.
Tits&Ass
D
It's a good day.
Volcanic Eruptions Here!
Hopefully by later this week I will have something original to show ya.
Tits&Ass
D
Thursday, April 15, 2010
Never Let Me Go
I finished this book by Kazuo Ishiguro almost entirely on the plane ride back from Chicago. The combination of reading it in one sitting and being surrounded by people, yet completely alone had a profound affect on my opinion of the book. It was a nighttime flight, so most people were asleep and after reading the book I was offered a good two hours to just contemplate what I'd read.
The story was written from the protagonist's, Kathy's, viewpoint. She sorts through memories of her past and we are taken from past to present. This is, I believe, the only was this story could have been written with enough appeal, since for the majority of the book, the true reasons are hidden. Had he initially told the reader the main secret, it would have been far too campy and predictable. However, written the way it was, it came around quite nicely.
The chapters and paragraphs are tied into each other by a simple, often times annoying, tactic of leading the reader through. For example, a paragraph would end with something like "This reminded me of that autumn day Tommy and I met at the fountain." The next paragraph or chapter would then chronicle what happened at said fountain. This in itself would have been tolerable had the author not chosen to use the method repeatedly through the story. It's a small irritation, but it irked me nonetheless.
The eventual outcome of the book is unsettling, yet strangely calming. In the plane, when I finished the book I closed it and placed it in my little storage pocket. I poked my head up and stared at the domes of hair, most of which were lolling in uncomfortable sleep. It further enhanced the strange feelings of living in a world quickly being engulfed by technology, a world where in a 5 hour plane ride I spoke not one word to a stranger.
I enjoyed the book, even grew misty eyed in the last chapter. I didn't want to put it down, not once. I'm under the distinct impression that had I read it at a different time, not in an airplane that I might think different. As it stands, I did read it now and on an airplane and I did enjoy the book.
Author J, whomever you are, I'm coming!
Wednesday, April 14, 2010
Listen to this:
This is by Cibelle. It's called Lightworks and it's a cover. I've put both the Cibelle version and the original, by Raymond Scott. It's also been sampled by J-Dilla which I've also included.
We Call It Pop 'Round These Parts
I'm finally settled enough to update this nonsense. I've got my pictures sorted and my head screwed on right. Post-vacation depression is hard to kick.
Chicago was, to put it in terse terms, glorious. It has been a long time since I've been on vacation, let alone one that lasted longer than a week. I didn't realize how much I missed my sister, but seeing her solidified that fact like all the countless pounds of fat my belly consumed while there.
Her husband and her bought a house in December and it is a very beautiful, large first house. They live in a town called Elgin, about an hour's train ride outside of Chicago.
First impressions: No telephone wires and no fences. It's all open land and it was quite nice to romp around with my niece with no fear of traffic.
There are lots of white people, not that that's a problem. It was a tad disconcerting, though, noticing all the unabashed stares and very obvious confusion on their faces. While on a train we had a family of four stare unblinking at us. Regardless of the shock of another race, it seems only polite to NOT stare. I would have expected the parents to give us this courtesy, but no, the mom stared more than the two girls. Also, Angie has told me that she's repeatedly gotten questions asking if Gretchen is hispanic (they say Mexican) which, when you see the pictures, will make you laugh at the absurdity of it all.
The city was beautiful and terrific fun to navigate and travel through. I love not having to drive (one of the worst parts of coming home!) and people watching on trains and buses. I also saw Thom Yorke walk by me on the streets!!! It was a delightful trip, if only for Thom.
I could go on, but for now, some pictures!
My sister and cousin on our train ride.
A random building in the city.
Waiting for the train on our wild (not) night out.
My beautiful niece playing flashlight tag in the dark of her house. Such a brave little fart!
Teammates! She wasn't all that scared, but kept imploring "Dacy, hold my hand!".
My sister, Angie, and her husband, Jack, playing flashlight tag.
Buckingham Fountain! It was off and drained, but still worth the picture.
My nieces (the second one came with my sister and her hubby a few days later).
A big goofy family picture (sans my parents).
Sigh, I love my family.
Chicago was, to put it in terse terms, glorious. It has been a long time since I've been on vacation, let alone one that lasted longer than a week. I didn't realize how much I missed my sister, but seeing her solidified that fact like all the countless pounds of fat my belly consumed while there.
Her husband and her bought a house in December and it is a very beautiful, large first house. They live in a town called Elgin, about an hour's train ride outside of Chicago.
First impressions: No telephone wires and no fences. It's all open land and it was quite nice to romp around with my niece with no fear of traffic.
There are lots of white people, not that that's a problem. It was a tad disconcerting, though, noticing all the unabashed stares and very obvious confusion on their faces. While on a train we had a family of four stare unblinking at us. Regardless of the shock of another race, it seems only polite to NOT stare. I would have expected the parents to give us this courtesy, but no, the mom stared more than the two girls. Also, Angie has told me that she's repeatedly gotten questions asking if Gretchen is hispanic (they say Mexican) which, when you see the pictures, will make you laugh at the absurdity of it all.
The city was beautiful and terrific fun to navigate and travel through. I love not having to drive (one of the worst parts of coming home!) and people watching on trains and buses. I also saw Thom Yorke walk by me on the streets!!! It was a delightful trip, if only for Thom.
I could go on, but for now, some pictures!
My sister and cousin on our train ride.
A random building in the city.
Waiting for the train on our wild (not) night out.
My beautiful niece playing flashlight tag in the dark of her house. Such a brave little fart!
Teammates! She wasn't all that scared, but kept imploring "Dacy, hold my hand!".
My sister, Angie, and her husband, Jack, playing flashlight tag.
Buckingham Fountain! It was off and drained, but still worth the picture.
My nieces (the second one came with my sister and her hubby a few days later).
A big goofy family picture (sans my parents).Sigh, I love my family.
Tuesday, April 13, 2010
Sorry Won't Cut It
But I'll say it anyway. Sorry it's been so long since I've had a real post, but I'm busy and just returned form Chicago.
I have plenty of pictures, a book review, some new writings, and probably too many thoughts.
I'll be updating soon, so be wary.
Tits&Ass,
D
I have plenty of pictures, a book review, some new writings, and probably too many thoughts.
I'll be updating soon, so be wary.
Tits&Ass,
D
Wednesday, April 7, 2010
Tuesday, April 6, 2010
She's a Lady
I am up past everyone else again. Today was pretty run of the mill. Got a pedicure with my cousin and, let me tell you what, it's boring! You sit around in a poofy chair and pretend to make small talk with some stranger. Or if you want, you can read a magazine and pretend there isn't some stranger rubbing the callouses off your hardened paws. It's strange what women do to themselves. The women kept plugging her amazing eyelash extension work. And all I could think was, "You saying my eyelashes are too short?"
It's also a damn travesty how damn expensive it is to upkeep your "beauty".
But, the rant shall continue another time. For now, here's something I wrote on the fly and didn't really edit. It's probably not done, but Im starting to feel tired.
She speaks with words I've read in Bibles
and moves like silk sliding on her skin.
And her skin,
her skin,
is white.
It soaks up moonlight,
beams breathing from her pores.
She wanders caverns long fallen from use
like a spectre in the night
Her pale white glistens,
but her hair,
her hair
is black.
It dribbles down her back
playing delicately on her spine.
It's also a damn travesty how damn expensive it is to upkeep your "beauty".
But, the rant shall continue another time. For now, here's something I wrote on the fly and didn't really edit. It's probably not done, but Im starting to feel tired.
She speaks with words I've read in Bibles
and moves like silk sliding on her skin.
And her skin,
her skin,
is white.
It soaks up moonlight,
beams breathing from her pores.
She wanders caverns long fallen from use
like a spectre in the night
Her pale white glistens,
but her hair,
her hair
is black.
It dribbles down her back
playing delicately on her spine.
Monday, April 5, 2010
She
I chose the book, She: A History of Adventure by H Rider Haggard, for my H book. I wanted something that wasn't a classic and that wasn't too contemporary. I believe this book came out around the same time as The Jungle Book and it has the same sort of feel.
It follows two men on a mysterious adventure deep into the jungle. An old chest with an ancient story on a shard of pot leads them to believe that a great queen simply named, She, is the murderess of a long gone relative and that he must exact revenge upon her.
While the storyline is interesting, it is a bit typical of an adventure novel. I will say though that it was probably near the first of its kind and I'm probably just late to pick it up. The speech gets a tad tiresome as it's all "thou must, thou shalt," and a whole lot of other very proper ways of speaking.
As a whole, the book was good. Not great, the speech killed it for me, but a good adventure story.
Ps, sorry for the standard internet-searched photo. I'm still in Chicago and don't have anywhere to upload pictures!
Sunday, April 4, 2010
Greetings from Elgin!
Midnight plane rides, bottles of wine, Handsome Furs on repeat and finally arriving in Elgin. Zombie stupor through the morning with bubble blowing bike rides and reading books to kids. Whitecastle mistakes and temporary Simpsons tattoos with a late night session with the sis and a long-awaited slumber in a foreign bed after 30 some odd hours without a wink. Saturday morning mishaps, waiting for the locksmith and standing in the rain.
Eating "cheez-lits" with the niece and finally making a train to head in the city. Grand buildings and winding winds and staring back at the vast amounts of white people. Sightseeing, getting lost, trekking for hours just to realize the destination was closer than we thought. Subways, wind tunnels, and stoney-time goodness.
"Love & marriage, love & marriage. Go together like a horse & carriage..." stuck in my head and determined to see Buckingham Fountain which apparently is drained during winter, but I still took pictures. Parks, trees, wind, wind, wind. More walking, cheap breakfasts, and chugging on the train back to Elgin for Easter egg hunts & dinner & flashlight hide and seek in the dark. Sitting awake typing this before I fall asleep to wake up in the world of oddities my brain calls dreams.
Tomorrow holds long walks, swimming (!!), and more family time. Sigh, if only it didn't have to end.
Eating "cheez-lits" with the niece and finally making a train to head in the city. Grand buildings and winding winds and staring back at the vast amounts of white people. Sightseeing, getting lost, trekking for hours just to realize the destination was closer than we thought. Subways, wind tunnels, and stoney-time goodness.
"Love & marriage, love & marriage. Go together like a horse & carriage..." stuck in my head and determined to see Buckingham Fountain which apparently is drained during winter, but I still took pictures. Parks, trees, wind, wind, wind. More walking, cheap breakfasts, and chugging on the train back to Elgin for Easter egg hunts & dinner & flashlight hide and seek in the dark. Sitting awake typing this before I fall asleep to wake up in the world of oddities my brain calls dreams.
Tomorrow holds long walks, swimming (!!), and more family time. Sigh, if only it didn't have to end.
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