I, BEING BORN A WOMAN


I, being born a woman and distressed
By all the needs and notions of my kind,
Am urged by your propinquity to find
Your person fair, and feel a certain zest
To bear your body's weight upon my breast:
So subtly is the fume of life designed,
To clarify the pulse and cloud the mind,
And leave me once again undone, possessed.
Think not for this, however, the poor treason
Of my stout blood against my staggering brain,
I shall remember you with love, or season
My scorn with pity, -- let me make it plain:
I find this frenzy insufficient reason
For conversation when we meet again.

For you, Blue

Strange and Great Things:

1. While riding my bike on a residential street, I saw someone had written
B-U- swastika-H

2. Daniel Lanois has a new album coming out July 12 and I have already heard it.

3. Concerts in the summertime.

4. Avacado, black olive, and peanut butter sandwiches.

5. Men with real jet black hair (not dyed).

6. early morning dew smell

7. Talking movies with tall steve and mike price at Cinemat

8. My first experience with contra-dancing (tonight).

9. Chilled dry white wines

10. radio radio!

from page 302

Just two lonely people who spent some time together for awhile.

Couldn't sleep tonight. So got up from the futon and decided to find the quote that had been tormenting me for the last week. I opened right to the page.
Funny, it seemed much more profound when I read it in context. I guess everything in life is.

I just pulled out the evil Kettle Chips. Sometimes, after eating a bowl of them, I have the same guilty feeling the next morning that I do when I have had a few too many drinks. Generally I never eat when I am worried about something, so hopefully this is a passing fancy.

Yes, lots on my mind as of late. I can see the end to discomfort and unhappiness just brimming above the horizon. I have savored the sweet taste of it. (I just emailed a friend and told him how my luck was similar to the Titanic.) Well I thought it was funny.

I hate waiting...

One for the night
One for the dark
Taste each other
For a moment, then goodbye
Hold her eyes
Share the same air
Oh lay it down
Oh lay it bare

"Merge, A Vessel, A Harbour"

mirror image

"Hey gorgeous, "he said in my general direction as I pushed my two year old past The Bakehouse.
"Don't talk to my child that way," was my playful reply, not expecting such a comment.
"Oh, she's cute too."
Thanks for making my Saturday, Steve.

Just a few thoughts, as I am beyond exhausted from keeping my girl for a week without relief.

1. I am looking for a quote from a recent book about how when two lonely people come together, they are simply filling a temporary void. I am trying to dismiss the 1,000,000,000,000 (yes, I am exaggerating) odd people in this summer town who actually meet and maintain a meaningful relationship-- after my brief, serendipitous meeting.

2. People who tell you to stop feeling sorry for yourself after you bare your soul to them. The only saving grace this time, is that she is my sister.

3. The Great Lake Swimmers was a wonderful set. The Moaners were great too. I would have taken Great Lake home with me, but he had a swanky girlfriend.

4. I should never post after 10 pm.

5. Everyone I know and love is traveling (some statewide) overseas right now. What would I give to be with them right now.

6. I have on clean underwear--that has to count for something.

my little jester (and sister becca)

So much happening in my world. Bon Voyage to Josh in Japan, Ann in Africa, Ben in Israel and Becky in DC. I just got a new camera (this photo is still the disposible camera.) Better shots to come....

ok, some new shots with the Nikon. What a difference!



raintree



hot summer howlin' with my babe abe




sweet protector



a grave man

"Flee Immorality" --2 posts in 2 days!

That was today's warning from the Church of Christ on Second Street.

I have been spending a lot of time talking to strangers or partial aquaintances over coffee. Men mostly. The age of these folks range from mid-30's to 50's. Fascinating. What people know. What people are willing to discuss on the street with a non-threating looking person like me. Sometimes they are embarrased about having to smoke. Sometimes they think they know more than me. Most times I could care less what they think, other times I am riveted-- always I am interested in how they present themselves.

I marvel at how one man is looking for perfection in a woman.. "a saint, with model beauty and a scientist's brain." And yet he fails to recognize his own shortcomings. And why would she pick up with you? I would love to ask, but I nod and smile, sip my latte and remind him to look in the mirror.

At this upscale bar I frequent I am often greeted by a caustic Marine. "Married twice-- none of 'em took," is how he puts it. He is an opinionated pig. He drinks Guiness. I love to banter with him, our voices occasionally raising too loud in heated discussion the barkeep looks at me as to say, "don't push his buttons--we don't need a scene." Ok Victor, we'll wrap it up for now.

Today was this guy I call "The Suit". Hails from Houston. Three cups of black coffee in less than an hour. Socially inept or just extremely uncomfortable in his skin. He doesn't get out much. Maybe I made him nervous. I am sure there's a story behind that one.

I am not interested in any of these men. I do enjoy sitting beside them as a pretty young lady breezes past to witness their animal reaction. I like to drink with them, to laugh with them, to fight with them, but would never go home with them.
Besides,
Michael Caine is more my speed (only 40 years younger, please.)
Seeking a modern day Michael Caine..smart, funny, hard-working, well-read, gentleman, insightful, musical, sensitive, passionate, earthy...does he exist in my world? I'll try Brown County today...

Bad Moon Arising

My sister being a faithful Wicca reminded me yesterday of the summer solstice today. "We are trying to get pregnant so meditate on that tonight."
She is approaching 40 this Thanksgiving. Another child would be a blessing (and first child) for her and relief for me, the black sheep with the most fertile loins, apparently.
I cringe every time there is a national (or Halmark) holiday because that means I am expected to attend family gatherings at the Springer home and endure the slow torture that comes from German-Lutheran guilt. It takes years away from my already fading life force, let me tell you.

So, all my blessings to you dear sis and beloved brother in law, may this pregnant cancer of a moon spew its solstice splendor your way. At least someone is getting some action, an how.

I am struggling. Yeah, really this time. Just can't beat it. Finished a book Friday. Started a new one Saturday--went to bed at 5:30 after watching Lost In Translation (again) trying to revisit my journey last year. Also a William H. Macy sleeper called The Wool Cap. I needed something to push off the boredom.

The radio has been good for me--but also reminding me of all the shows coming to town (The Moaners tomorrow, Great Lake Swimmers Wednesday) but this requires cash and a will to go-with no friends--lots of energy for me these days. It's that evil paradox--going crazy alone at home--going crazy alone out in public. Today I sat in a dusty booth for over an hour eyes glazed over, until the waitress asked with honest concern in her lilting voice, "Can I get you something, ma'am? Are you okay?"

"Yeah, how about a revolver?" ha ha. ( have also learned that if you don't put that ridiculous ;) face after a comment like that, people FREAK OUT. They think you are serious--like I would say that out LOUD-- It stupifies, honestly.)

I hate air-conditioning. But living by the highway I can't sleep with the sound of cars and ambulances and motorcycles and low riders and woofers and subwoofers booming all night. So 9:03p.m....
And then there is trying to decide whether Indiana should go with Chicago or the east coast?? Oh My God.

I gotta get out of here before it kills me.

"Abstain from Fornication"

read the cheap road sign outside a church near my apartment. I'll bet they had to look up fornication. I laugh every morning when I drive by to see what the new warning is. Makes me want to turn around and pull in the driveway, HELL YEAH!

Another billboard in town has a picture of an American soldier and his kids that reads, "Glad You are home Brett. Serving GOD and his country."
Stuff like that give Christians a bad name. Let's rub it in everyone's face a little more. Now that makes me want to run out and join the troops AND the church immediately.
*****

Pat pat pat pat, the steady sound of footfalls on cinder. It's quiet. I focus on breathing-filling the stomach full and deep. As I breathe, the sweet smell of pine blows past. Pat pat pat pat, breathe.
It's Sunday morning and all is glorious. Just me and the cinder. I love the rhythmic sound and the timing. After awhile muscle memory takes over and I drift off in my mind to different places.

I snap on the swim cap and create a suction with my ears. The goggles are always too tight, but it's a sacrifice to see clearly under the water. I love the harsh smell of chlorine on the skin and in the nostrils long after.
The first solo push from the wall underwater is refreshing. Silent. Calm.
Breathe out. A long glide underthe water, I smile, happy that I understand the technique and that I no longer have to think about it. I come up for air, the water gliding off my cap and hairless body, I resubmerge and feel the great power in my legs in the release. Soon the black arrow serves a gentle reminder of the end of the pool--I breathe once more and go into the flip turn, something that took years to master. Now with the long stretch of water before me, I am in my element.

Stumble Into Grace

Oh the stories I could tell
Sometimes I really hit my stride
We make our own heaven and our own hell
Tryin to get across to the other side
But everyday ends up the same
One step up two steps back
Like some old silent movie frame
Zoom in close then fade to black
Can you hear me now? can you hear me now?

I drove through the intersection without looking. No signal. No stopping. If a car was coming from the other direction, there would have been a collision. I just didn't have it in me to wait and I didn't care if there was bloodshed.

****

#1 She received the cell phone call while on the radio, making her debut. Her friend was twittering about all the single, successful men calling her to go out on dates, she held the phone at a distance. This friend's divorce had been much more public than her own. The two were complete opposites, and most likely the men who called her friend would not be remotely interested in her and vise-versa.
For radio's sake, she told her friend she was busy--her friend wanted to get together as so much had happened..starting a speed dating thing with a man, the most elligible bachelor in town wanted to get together. Her friend had a date last night with a cute financial planner. What about Pisces-Taurus? She hung up and looked at her friend Jim, shaking her head. Her heart just wasn't in that space yet.
He smiled, remembering his own experience with divorce.
"...that was Emmylou Harris' Can you Hear me Now off her Stumble Into Grace release. Before that, we heard... "

#2 She flipped through the rolidex in her mind: the cards contained distorted faces of the men she had once loved. On each card was a short description, a few adjectives to define them, how things ended, where they might be now.
Most of them were faded, ripped out, earmarked, tear-stained. A few had obscenities written on their haggard faces:
Married
Co-dependent
Too young
Too involved with job--not interested in a relationship (with me)
Too old
Abusive
Drunk
Unrequited

She thought of the years wasted on prooving herself to these men. Over and over,
she reviewed them and one thing was common for all of them:
They didn't or couldn't, shouldn't or wouldn't love her for who she was. To them, she was a mere tease, a distraction, a seduction, a fantasy, a nightmare, a disappointment,a complication, a rebound, a sacrifice, a stalker, a psycho, a waste of time. Funny--She now thought of them the very same way.

How did the load get to be so heavy
I used to wear my trouble like a crown
A bad flood's poundin' on the levee
And l'm gonna need some help
To hold my ground

#3 She was meeting a few of them at the pool. All of them had kids. She had very little in common with any of these women except they all worked in her department and were mothers.
All here married--happily,or so it seemed. She was suprised that they called her to tag along. While the other women sat together with their children between their legs--she and her daughter waded into the deeper end of the pool. Lilly liked to be in the middle of the action, not sitting along side watching it happen. Her mom was the same way.
Little did she know, it was lonley and unsatisfying being there. Lilly would find that out years later. She hauled Lilly, kicking and screaming, back to the other women and their children playing contently at their sides to try to fit in. Her smile was obviously fake.
As in all areas of her life, she felt trapped. Awkward and uncomfortable, she left shortly after-- promising Lilly the world when they arrived back home.

But I'm sinkin' like a stone
To where in solitude this life I'll spend
In the coldest place I've ever known
I'm here just waitin' until the end
I send up my S.O.S.
A message in a bottle set out to sea
It just reads soul in d istress
But nobody ever got back to me
Can you hear me now can you hear me now?

#4 She sat in soma most of the morning typing. She was often interrupted by friends and aquaintances alike--the regulars that made her day seem normal. She loved the energy in the place. She felt at ease. It was an oasis from the ugly realities that lurked outside. It was a sham but she didn't care.
He never came by.
She waited and waited but he never came.
She doesn't look up anymore.
She doesn't look back.
She doesn't feel anything.
She was relieved: he was gone for good.

"We arouse pity by cultivating the most repulsive wounds"

There are many things that I love about summer:
Eating raw vegetables straight out of the garden.
Coming inside to air-condition on a hot day, reeking of suntan lotion and sweat- bathing suit still wet. The smell of rain on hot pavement. Cold beer on a hot night. (do I smell a theme here?)
As I write this, the fan is blowing on my bathing-suit-backed-body and I am eating sweet peas, onions and cucumbers. Tomorrow I am picking strawberries with my sisters--dear God, I hope we don't kill each other. Delightful.

I am within pages of the end of Bullshit Night in Suck City and am anxiously awaiting my copy of Stones of Summer to arrive today via Amazon.com. The movie Stone Reader, although slow in places, reminded me why I like to read.

I applied for a part time job today (thanks to my smarty pants boys for the references)--went to check the place out and ended up walking out with a dozen or more assorted cds:
The Strokes
3 Emmylou Harris cds
Johnny Cash
Gillian Welch
The Postal Service
Let it Be--Beatles
Brian Wilson's Smile
Fleetwood Mac Live in Boston
David Bowie's Heathen
Bjork's Medulla
Elvis Costello's North, The Delivery Man and All this useless beauty

Plus, my own copy of Neko Case's Furnace Room Lullaby that should keep me busy for at least a few days. I am headed to the station to meet her in person, I think she is playing a few or at least doing an interview. I have about 15 minutes to kill, so I wanted to tell this story:

I have but one true friend in town. His name is Jim. I refer to him as Crazy Jim, or Cancer Jim. He is an old homeless man--a scientist and in my mind a sociologist. I started talking to Jim at length about three years ago, when escaping the house was my favorite pasttime. We generally talk at the local hangouts--soma or the spoon.
Last Thanksgiving I volunteered at the soup kitchen, and in came my toothless friend, all smiles and sarcasm.

What I love about Jim is how he tangents. I also love that he speaks the truth about people. Yesterday we discussed the term
Mammon
at length. We frequently talk about love, living conditions and The Man. It's hard to get a word in edgewise, but when the exchange happens, it reminds me that it's so nice to have a non-judgmental friend to buy you a cup of coffee every now and then..
I guess it makes Bullshit Night that much more meaningful to me.

Too bad perfect strangers become the best friends and people you have known for years end up strangers? One of life's mysteries--or miracles. Who's to say? I should make a list of true friends.

I just decided to skip Neko (sorry) and instead wait to see STARS next Sunday at Bluebird. A hot new band worth of a listen. Hopefully not as expensive too.

'Night you.

"Pictures of Lilly"

vola

"There was a brief good-by. 'It certainly was pleasant,' said Hingham, looking away. Beyond some trees, across the sand, a great neon sign of a roadhouse glowed red. Hingham always went there for a beer when he was tired of writing. He was very lonely, he wanted to get back to New York. It was sad to see his tall figure receding in the dark as we drove away, just like the other figures in New York and New Orleans: they stand uncertainly underneath immense skies, and everything about them is drowned. Where go? what do? what for--? sleep.
But this foolish gang was bending onward." 8 "The Legend of Duluoz" On The Road

It's another end to another school year.
I've closed the book, locked the door--my car awaits with windows down.

For me, there is always this panic of uncertainty--now what the fuck do I do?
I hate that feeling.
Fortunately it will pass and I will be wading in the cool, deep water of summertime.

Goodbye to you, my dear friends moving on.
I will miss you.

now, I need to take that giant leap of faith---

a nervous tick-motion

The heart is such a delicate muscle. Mine has been hurting for a few days. To compensate for the ache, I have taken in a few movies:

Grosse Point Blank (thanks Josh for recommending it)
Team America (don't ask...)
Kinsey

Also saw Andrew Bird at Second Story Saturday night. When people describe me as intense, I wonder if they have ever seen this guy. I mean, he is intense to the point where his obsession with music would make it extremely difficult to have a conversation with him (I am only speculating). You could see his devout passion as he played--even as he talked about playing. Inspiring. I left on such a high.

I hung around the studio, sat in on the Bomb Diggidty show with Sarah--afterwards, I picked up The Mountain Goats new cd.


This evening Lilly and I left the apartment, greeted by lovely Indiana skies-it was humid and hot but the sun was out. Within ten minutes of driving from 2nd to the park we were caught in a huge downpour. Through the storm clouds, a bright rainbow appeared. I stood in the empty parking lot with Lilly in my arms, rain pummeling us from all sides and we laughed (and then she cried, as I put her back in the car seat). By the time we arrived back home, not ten minutes later, the rain had stopped and the sun was breaking through the clouds. Steam was rising.

Too much change for me at once-I think that is the problem. It's just too much. I know I cannot control what happens or why it happens. I just wish it didn't affect me so.

A great quote from Grosse Point Blank-- "If you love something, set it free. If it comes back to you--it's broken." One way to look at it, I suppose.