This little light of mine, I'm gonna let it shine...

Wednesday, October 31, 2007

Free Veggies from the City

Last fall was my first living in Chicago, but I've noticed the practice of using totally edible hearty greens as mere landscaping for a few years now. While on a walk at lunch yesterday, I took pictures of a couple of them so I could research (google) and to find out what they were, then embark on a sneaky plan to harvest them, and eat good on the city's millions of dimes. Mwa ha ha ha!!! This plan may not come to fruition this fall, but I'm sure, if I'm still here next fall it will. And so, for your delight and suggestive ways of cooking these treats here are our leafy green friends. Also, if you notice I've mislabeled a plant, please let me know!

Fig. 1: Kale (yum!)

Fig. 1.1: Kale up close

Fig. 2: Purple Cabbage

Not only do I delight in taking from the man, I think it's a perfect example of the disgusting waste in this city. If the mayor wants to spend millions on landscaping and not schools or public transit (red alert! red alert!) then maybe he could help make it known the hundreds of homeless people about that they can harvest these veggies and gobble them up. Free! And more nutritious than the prepackaged shit they can afford with the change the pan handle.

Also, Happy Halloween or Samhain or whatever you dance your little devil's ass off to.

Tuesday, October 30, 2007

I am sitting, Both hands

Let the Blatant Work Slacking Begin Again.

I'm here, in the office with a pretty bad u.t.i. which I'm still not sure won't blow up in my face. I'm listening to Ani and hoping the words of my RN Aunt will hold water in front of the blood on my t.p. Ani sings "The Resistance is just waiting to be organized." She's right, that's the thing. It would only take leaders, from every city and town; 1 leader for every 100 lambs that want to be led to the fray.

Do you ever watch riot footage? I have an ex that calls it riot porn, and it is. It's like porn in that it gets you really fucking excited. Really revved up to blow something. My Aunt told me if the blood doesn't go away in 24 hours I have to follow up with a urologist. When I passed this information on to my Mom I laughed bitterly. Obviously, Aunt hasn't been given my version of yesterday's events in which I sat in a hard plastic chair at the free clinic in shades of agony and embarrassment, my humility degrading as the minutes, then hours ticked by.

Sunday, October 28, 2007

cigarettes for sale

CIGS FOR SALE $5-6.50/pack depending on brand. also have cigars, good deals.

my weekend in notes:
friday, 8 pm -
small bar, jameson, beer, delicious companion
gary IN, cigarette costume binge, deja vu strip club
"They're with me."
"Oh they're with you now?"
"Let 'em in!"
("Think she's a dyke?")
dual lap dance from Chynah.
table dances, amazing pole work
real names, karaoke kevin
"We're at fullerton and california."
saturday, 12pm -
bad u.t. or bladder or kidney infection
brunch with an(n)as
rubber snakes and lobster oven mitts
4:30pm -
collapse in bed
chicken from feed
real cranberry juice
feverish tossing and reading
phone with devyn
adventure dreams
sunday, 11am -
drive to cary with billie
football yelling, family, snapping fireplace
smell burning leaves, fresh air
bbq, constant comment


Wednesday, October 24, 2007

Generation Overwhelmed

Danny posted an intelligent and well articulated article on his blog today, and I wanted to make sure more people were able to read it.

She captures the frustration we battle everyday if we are lucky enough to have energy left over; after working to make ends meet, and keep our health intact and away from the pockets of big pharm.

I only hope the NY Times Editor has this article brought to his attention.

Monday, October 22, 2007

Rather be...

I have SO not been slacking today. Really, slacking is DOWN 86.34%. British Columbians are feeling unpleasantly tense at the news of this Slack Market Crash.

I still can't slack, so! In lieu of the posting I want to put here (re: this weekend's trip to my 1st BDSM Fetish Party) I'll post down home needle work, spotted in Danny's Bathroom Friday night.

Friday, October 19, 2007

Time: granted

It's official, I have only 1 job again. Wishbone called to tell me the restaurant is going to be closed until December 1st due to catastrophic renovations required because of a snafu with the parking structure on the building's roof.

I'll be ok. Like Devyn says (and the Marines, I guess), I'll adapt and overcome. And besides, I've been complaining about not having any time. Now, I'll simply switch my kvetch to not having any money.

For a Jew without a kvetch is like a Christmas without Chinese food and movie theaters.

Work Poem for the Kinky

When caught up, amid human throngs
funneling toward a street level exit,
banishing the images of lab rats,
drones, and soldiers with no mission
is impossible. The world is khaki,
drab, pleated pants, and button down shirts.
I coax life into my grey eyes--
I look for women in all black,
with shiny brown pony tails,
and wonder about their sex lives.

I hope the man next to me, in mild
wool slacks, goes home to his Domme and gets hooded,
whipped red, and made to beg forgiveness for his submission
to other Masters for 8 hours a day.

Thursday, October 18, 2007

Gone again

Devyn's gone and I'm sad. I'm also terribly under slept, BUT it was WELL worth it. New horizons met, new ideas formed, new lines drawn, old lines erased. I want to shout his name from the rooftops. That's a sure sign of "in-love" which, I'm not quite ready to accept in thought, but in heart, I'm there.

And a whole lot of damn damn damn damn good sucking and fucking and play time.
Damn good.
Toronto visit plan in the works.

Wednesday, October 17, 2007

Teacher's Pet

I am the proud new owner of an authentic school girls' uniform.
Walking the street with the wind blowing up my plaid tartan while obeying my lover was sublime. I couldn't keep the smirk from my cheeky little face.
There were many moments of sublimity, breathless excursion and humbleness.

Not to mention all the good sticky hotness of fetish sex for a newbie (that'd be me). And the following tender, sweet and rollicking love.
My ass, cunt and hips are all rather sore today.
And jeezus jesus I need coffee now.

I may indulge in a naughty cigarette while I'm at it, then, back to work while I sadly try to slow the clocks before his departure.

Thursday, October 11, 2007

Really? Indeed...

Which generic smut novel character are you? (With somewhat relevant pictures!)

The Well-Endowed Kitchen Wench

Look, if you’re going to keep slipping in the rain, at least stop wearing those revealing cotton gowns.

Personality Test Results

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Three Parts and the rest

Boss lady returns Monday, we're all off tomorrow. I have 2.5 more hours of deliciously unsupervised time before my weekend from the day job begins. I have a feisty busy week ahead of me, beginning tonight, but that's not why I'm here.

The real reason I'm here is hard to admit, but I feel the need to do so. I am so incapable of shutting down or off, so I have to Let Out somewhere. And where better but to a cyber-vacuum full of "strangers", friends and lovers? Essentially, to everyone one and to no one, I release.

I just deleted part of a text message I was going to send to a lover. It pained me to do so, as it pained to me tap it out initially. I wanted to admit something to him that I forced myself not to. Here's why: I'm afraid of losing myself.

In reading some information about my signs (sun: aquarius, moon: taurus), things that are usually true about me were articulated. I love both comfort and the alien. I am a chameleon and a homebody. It's true, I thrive on contradiction.

So while I yearned to tell him, "I'm yours", I couldn't because parts of me are at odds.

Part 1: Fears I'm admitting defeat; as if by allowing myself to be In-Love, to be "Yours" I'm then, no longer Mine. I know this isn't the Truth or the way things Would be, it's a fear. It's based on history I think, and more accurately: insecurity, about my own track record with things like focus and motivation. Damn Aquarian ideals!

Part 2: Wonders why I'm suddenly spurred to say such things. Does it have to do with the reading I'm doing in a past blog of his, in which he is in a relationship that sounds very loving and hot. Am I'm romanticizing the partnership, envying it because I love comfort and ease (as much as I also love discomfort and difficulty)? Damn Taurus grounding!

Part 3: Tells me I'm being an overly analytical idiot who's not seeing nuance, who's not relying on being able to push and focus myself when there's nice and comfort at hand. Tells me, say it: it doesn't mean the death of anything. Say it: it's only the beginning. (Devil on the other shoulder? Don't say it: it's only the beginning. Save it.)

Ah, I'm sure we'll all reconcile and keep tripping, traipsing along through the scent of wet leaves and decay. Mmmm, autumn. I need the woods now please.

Monday, October 8, 2007

Home Again

I cross the alley, six pack in hand, and glance to my right to check for kitty bodies laying immobile. I see only an amiable couple walking toward me. A mew then stops me dead in my tracks, ears piqued. Another, more yowl like noise and I do a 180 on the spot. A bell-jingles, and there's Billie, trotting to me, crying at me.

I drop my keys, wallet and beer into the grass and scoop her up, elated. The couple, now stopped to stare, congratulate me, having seen the 1 of the 25 posters I put up earlier. I gather myself, and carry her home loving, lecturing, and smothering her the whole way. It's true that this relationship with Billie IS my committed relationship.

To celebrate I drink the beer that caused my walk: New Belgium - 2 Below, and laugh at her as she indignantly cleans herself of the bath water I subjected her to.

Here's a picture of the silly cat, all washed up.


Spurred by a Headline

The good thing about this week is the annual convention, happening for my employers in New Orleans. For the next four days I will have no direction, practically zero e-mail, few calls and 4 co-workers on my entire floor. I will play my music (gotta love the Kinda Cloudy, the Tehuti, the Democracy Now, the Pinky Show)through my computer's speakers, I will read comparative news reports and scoff at the Bigs, and the consumers as they report them.

For instance:

From today's NY Times article titled
Death, Havoc and Heat Mar Chicago Race
(Front page material and yet, not that interesting, important, or informative)

By the fourth mile, she said, her shorts were soaked with sweat. “Everyone was sweating so much,” she said. “We knew it was going to be pretty brutal.”

She and Ms. Bock vowed to try to stay hydrated, but it was difficult, she said, because the stations set up to hydrate runners were running low on water and Gatorade — and another crucial supply. “We were picking cups up off the ground,” she said.

Ms. Costello said she saw runners on the ground, being treated by other runners.

Seriously? You SAW runners on the ground being treated by OTHER runners? W.T.F.

From Ani DiFranco's song "Subdivision"

i remember the first time i saw someone
lying on the cold street
i thought: i can't just walk past here
this can't just be true
but i learned by example
to just keep moving my feet
it's amazing the things that we all learn to do

Friday, October 5, 2007

For Sharlene

Sharlene the Cancer, the designer, the New Yorker from Jamaica/Queens who retained her accent in the words orange, terrible, and water. On our second date she brought up poly-amory to me and I explained that I'd heard of it, wasn't terribly knowledgeable beyond the basics and suspected it could work for me under the right circumstances. By our third date we were rolling around and by the tenth day, fourth date, she was telling me she wished she could find something wrong with me so she could say "I love you."

I fell so hard for her the ground of all my notions shook. I was like Alice and didn't know when it would end, if I would still be me, if "Shana" would be able to stand.

I didn't learn a whole lot from Sharlene, but I did learn a lot about myself from our relationship. While Sharlene taught me how to ride a fixed gear bicycle and add the right amount of dill to everything, I forgot how to write poetry. I forgot how to see the divine in the plants in the cracks of concrete and in surprise caterpillars on my car's windshield.

I imagined a life I didn't know I wanted in which we moved to the East Coast for her to go to graduate school and I worked my way into the industry of writing advertisements to sell shit to consumers. I began watching FOX news in the morning.

But that was later, that was after I came out as a lesbian to family and declared to my Gramma that I was in love with a wonderful woman. My family was great about the declaration; after my mom got over the shock, she was good too. She just couldn't understand why all of Sharlene's shirts were plaid. I loved Sharlene's style. I love that she rarely showered and that she had thick calves and forearms and wide shoulders. I loved the way she would declare things about people and it sounded so profound I wanted to quote her on billboards. I loved how broken she was and how she was held together with ink, picas and electrical tape.

By our sixth date, we were monogamous. Her other lover and she had been spiraling toward the rocks and the lover had smashed it apart. She cut Shar out of her life. Shar was upset by it because she didn't understand it, but she said, she wasn't a sentimental person so she wasn't terribly sad. As I understood it, the ex-lover played a big role in Shar's development in recent times, but none of Shar's friends liked her much and they liked me a lot. I didn't think about the implications.

By our sixth date, Sharlene told me I was her "heart song." It was cheesy and stolen from the animated penguin movie we'd just seen, but it was so romantic I melted. She told me I held her heart in my pocket, and to be sure to keep it there and keep it safe. I felt it beating against my leg, I kept it warm in my palm in my pocket at all times.

I stopped sleeping at home, I started eating greasy fast food with her and watching her play video games. I was stagnant but so comfortable in love that I didn't notice any of those things. She called me "huggy bear" and "squish monster" and loved me in a way that felt totally new and full.

Within four months Shar began to grow weary of my full time attention and devotion and tried to tell me about it. But, because we'd been in newlywed monogamously blind bliss, I didn't want to hear, and so didn't. For three months things slowly ground down until I was without a heart in my pocket, without an understanding of healthy poly-amory, and wondering where the hell all my dreams had gone off to.

She eventually cut me out of her life for quoting a Carole King song to her when she was feeling really fucked up bad. Her broken family was changing; breaking and mending, and bending, her ideas about herself. For anyone this was a shit storm, for Sharlene, who'd felt more like an orphan than anything, it was a Shit Storm and an excuse to be totally blocked off and emo full of angst.

The Carole King lines? "You just call out my name, and you know where ever I am, I'll come running, to see you again. You've got a friend." It was Pride Weekend in Chicago. I'd thought I was moving on and becoming able to have a friendship with her that would be good for both of us. It was Saturday morning and I was going to the Dyke March. I thought I was showing some love in an unobtrusive way.

She used to tell me she thought I had borderline personality disorder, I even joined an online discourse/support group for it. She used to tell me that I never listened and would pick apart my semantics and tell me I was a hypocrite. I never understood any of that, but I tried so hard to be good for her.

Sharlene loves Jews. She loved that I am a Jew, however non-practicing and new-age I may actually be. Jew often were the parents or Bubbies of her friends and would clothe and feed her in the cold winters or hot summers. She feeds her friend the way the Bubbies fed her. She connects to a common Jewish identity and familial generosity, she has a traditional image of "the wandering Jew" tattooed on one of her calves. I hope Sharlene finds herself at home inside someday. The world needs her strong and clever, she can do a lot of profoundly good things.

Thursday, October 4, 2007

Post from last night, carried to today

I feel tired and a bit down. I also feel myself rallying internally, telling myself, "it's ok for right now, but you've got to get to it."

I had another new experience last night that's rocked my little boat and added to my world.
He uses the phrase "flavor explosion". I liked looking into his left eye, like Shed learned to do in The Cowboy Who Fell in Love with the Moon.

Today though I am wrestling with the Taurus in me that wants to bull ahead and make revolutionary changes but, still have creature comforts. I'm listening to the Aquarius in me struggle with idealism, the perfect me, and still impatience and material greed.
I am thinking repeatedly of The Softer World strip called "Saying your plans out loud is a good way to hear God laugh", which is on my work computer's desktop.

Really, a life needs ideas of what I want, then secret plans, that only those who'll cheer me on can hear.

Tuesday, October 2, 2007

the last 2 days "at work"

Can't. Focus.

Painting dandelion silhouettes,
Hot Latino men in leather,
Toronto, Ca.,
Burma (Myanmar),
Dead Monks,
Dying Chinese Farmer Peasants,
Living wage,
Chick Peas,
Rock the nation,
Hobo Stripper,
Dominatrix Teacher,

Cunt, Art, Politics & Revolution all in the way of me doing anything Pointless.

I would say this "Productivity" block is detrimental. But, that'd be a lie.

Monday, October 1, 2007