hey sweet stagger patrons...after an extended absence, call it a holiday, the khat is back...here's a taste of what the past month or so has contained:
birthday celebrations!
yep. that's pretty much it. a long ass month of celebration for my birthday.
vain much? why yes, i am.
Posted by tofallfromgrace at 09:54 PM | Comments (0)
something which has been on my mind recently is the power of scent. do not ask me why, but i think it has something to do with the onset of summer and the myriad of smells that waft down pearl street at any given moment.
from the overpowering smell of soap as you walk by lush to the smell of garlic floating through the open dining room windows at pasta jays; the mixture of patchouli (admittedly not one of my favorite smells) and the great unwashed which wander the street (especially now during this rainbow gathering season of ours)...these smells hit your senses like a thousand bricks onto a marshmallow.
pipes, incense, perfume, flowers, dogs, homeless, ice cream cones, babies, hot dogs, the damp smell which emanates from the fountains... the lotions at l'occtaine, the gyros at falafel king, the tapas at the med, the odd smell rising from the head shop and the old cigarette smell which rises from the doors of the sundowner. what a combination...
see, it is not just the smells themselves but the memories they trigger that gets to you. whenever i smell certain perfumes like poison, i am reminded of my grandmother - dressed to the nines, hair set and makeup done, presiding over a cocktail party or going out to the symphony. the smell of nag champa incense invites me to look back at my first apartment with my husband and the incredible people who used to be over all the time...for dinner, for games, for long talks about the meaning of life, the universe and music.
this was brought on by a talk krisa and i had not so long ago about the actual power of smell, how it holds us in its grasp and forces us to take one action or another, be it to fall into memories or run away screaming (...patchouli....ug....) or bask in the warm feeling it creates. we spoke of how closely scent is aligned with attraction, how there were certain guys we had dated who were perfectly nice, charming people but whose personal scent we could not stand.
but then, then there are those few people that make the cut. those guys we could smell all day and all night. the ones who may have worked all day and come home to hug us and yet we still breathe them in as if they smelled of roses. such attraction that even something that smells bad actually smells good to us...that is how much sway aroma has over us.
in my life there have been two people that i truly loved the smell of. first was my husband, mart. he could be outside working on the car all day and yet, when he walked in the door all i wanted was to wrap myself around him and breathe him in. i was drawn to him like a moth to a flame. maybe why i married him?
the second person was zanzibar. i met him after my husband and i separated. believe me, the first night i met him i could not bear to be away. which was not always good as it was a long distance type of affair. we would meet and spend several days together and i would always manage to snag something he had worn or that i had worn while sleeping next to him and would hold onto it for days just reveling in the memories a simple shirt could evoke.
yes, smell has such draw, such power. all those chemicals running amok through the air and causing such chaos. maybe in the end, since everything seems to vanish so quickly, just maybe it is all we have to remind us of what we had?
Posted by tofallfromgrace at 08:46 PM | Comments (1)
i just realized that my singlehood is due to one thing and one thing only....
i did not repost a bulletin on myspace.
and now i will be single for four years.
yep.
that is what it said.
so glad i figured that one out. only three and a half years to go, folks.
*grin*
seriously, updating the stagger with a ton of new photos by tuesday night.
Posted by tofallfromgrace at 10:10 PM | Comments (0)
It is cold ... damp .. foggy ... typically British day really. And on these days, an Englishman's thoughts turn to higher, more spiritual matters.
For example. I had12 pairs of identical socks. Since washing them, I now have another sock that I don't recognise. It doesn't have a mate, and appears forlorn and alone. Why? This leads me to wonder if the spinning of the washing machine creates some sort of space time vortex which creates wormholes through which socks appear and disappear?
My other big topic of thought at the moment, and perhaps if there are any Italians reading you could advise me ... Does Italy have a Highway code? Does it have any rules of the road? Or are the rules of the road a throwback to the Gladitorial days? Has the Colliseum been closed and the gladiators handed a set of car keys and told to get on with it?
I ask because I've just returned from a trip to Rome (lucky me!). I have been to central London and even into New York, and to be honest, Rome makes these look like quiet country roads.
The taxi from the airport to the hotel ... well ... if rollercoasters don't scare you enough, get in a Roman Taxi ... then you'll realise why they have so many churches ... you'll be in them praying too after the ride. They pay no attention to lane markings and happily drive down the middle of the road, swerve in and out of lanes (indicators by the way appear to be just a fashion accessory).
Now, I could have handled the taxi driving down the tram lines ... him overtaking a tram and driving towards an oncoming tram ... that was not so easy to handle. Nor was the lack of seatbelts in the back of the taxi ... trust me ... I got very close to Jesus, Mary and any other passing deities during that ride.
And let's not mention the scooters ... they are everywhere too ... you take your life into your hands when you cross the roads in Rome. The white hatching of a pedestrian crossing appears to be the Roman equivalent of a bullseye or something ... the drivers take a perverse pleasure from seeing how close they can get to you whilst you are crossing.
What's disturbing is that it's not just the boy racers ... it's everyone, regardless of race, age or sex. I would have thought being such a godly town they would have driven more serenely and courteously, but perhaps it's something to do with the repression of catholicism? I almost got topped by some woman reversing backwards at a great speed down a one way street ... they are insane!
Now Rome is an Interesting Place. And notice the capitals (unlike our gracious host, I like capital letters). It's a bizarre mix of pagan and christian symbology with liberal dashings of sex, i.e. nude pictures / statues. The statues are particularly amusing as obviously there was an era when showing a man's dangly bits was not permissible. So well meaning prudes went around and either hacked off the dangly bits or covered them up with dodgy looking fig leaves.
I will put together a flickr presentation to elucidate more on this dangerous voyage as soon as I am back on broadband. I can't wait to share with you the confessionals that look like WC's and have a little red light come on when they are in use. They made me laugh ... toilet humour I suppose.
Now I was thinking whilst in Rome (careful, it does happen). We are inundated with reality TV shows, so why not have The Bishop Factor? This would be a group of bishops performing mass each week and then people would phone in and vote for their favourite bishop ... Simon Cowell could tell them their mass was "the worst he'd ever seen" or something ... thought it might for fun.
Incidentally, I want a cardinal. If anyone can tell me where I can get one, please let me know ...
Oh, and whilst wandering around the Vatican I joked about Pope TV - you know, reruns of your favourite masses and speeches ... I got back to the hotel, switched it on and there was a church service on ... trouble was the singing was diabolically out of tune ... it'd never have been allowed on Songs of Praise!
I shall undoubtedly post again some more in the immediate future, there is much to rant about :)
Until the next this, this is Jason from England signing out ... I'll be back!
Posted by jayzn at 02:35 AM | Comments (0)
Here, in the small provincial country of England, some of you may have noticed that our elections are over. Now, we are a small country. The sort of country that would almost fit in your pocket, or be described to owners of larger countries by itself as "Bijou" and "Compact". It's the kind of country where you can drive from one end to the other in a day or maybe less.
Sometimes however, that trip could take much longer due to traffic jams, accidents and roadworks on the M1. Or, if you are fortunate, cows / ducks / chickens / swans / nutcases on the road (delete as appropriate).
However, we are not as small as some countries, which are really small. In fact, they are so small that the locals give directions something like, "Go straight up that road there and before you fall off the edge of the country, you'll see Eliza's house on the left, next to the rock."
That's a small country.
An even smaller country would be the kind where you have to stand on one foot in order to be in it, but then your other limbs would be invading the airspace of other countries in a Lilliputian kind of way, and the slightest mis-step could result in a national calamity.
Now soon I am going to visit a big country. A country so big that it positively boggles the mind. I mean, I complain it's a long way to the corner shop here, but there, it's even further.
Now, in preparation for my journey, I have consulted my trusty Hitchhikers Guide To The Galaxy for advice. Apart from the pre-requisites of a towel and a babel fish (to translate for me as apparently this big country speaks a completely different language) the Hitchhikers has this to say about large countries:
"For the denizens of small countries who visit big countries it may be a little bit confusing and overwhelming when you realise just how big big is. It's not just big, but really big. Further than big and bigger than a very big thing that is very big indeed. And most certainly, it is bigger than your small country.
Visitors to a big country may risk an attack of agoraphobia or even just complete panic. In the later case, please pay turn to the words on the cover of your friendly guide for advice.
In order to prevent these symptoms small country visitors to large countries should pack a box to take with them.
Upon arrival in the big country, place the box over one's head before disembarking from your chosen method of transport. The use of the box will allow you to keep your small country perspective whilst enjoying all the pleasures of the large country.
Should the traveller find themselves unceremoniously dumped in a large country by a passing Vogon constructor ship, then the towel can be used as an emergency substitute until a suitable box can be found. Place the towel over one's head, obscuring the view and you will retain your small country view.
At this juncture, we should probably kindly remind our readers of a few criteria for selecting their box.
1) Ensure that the box is opaque. If you have a translucent box then there is every chance you will in fact see through it and realise that you are in a big country.
2) The size of box chosen for use should be one that is of a suitable size for you. Choosing a box that is too big may in fact result in the same panic sustained from realising you are in a big country.
3) It may be worth considering cutting some airholes in your box. Some unfortunate hitchhikers have learnt this lesson the hard way. And whilst you are engaged in cutting holes in your box, it may also be a good idea to cut some ear holes so that you can hear oncoming traffic, charging elephants, evacuation sirens and flushing lavatories.
Of course, as Gargantula Mammorabilis learnt on Zargon III, wearing a box may well protect you from the shock of being in a big place, but does not protect you from the Dubyanites nibbling at your tentacles.
To those Hitchhikers who have not had the pleasure of visiting Zargon III, a Dubyanite is a small, annoying reptile that enjoys munching on extremeties and, if left unchecked, can in fact devour an entire BugBlatter Beast in a single sitting. These are most certainly worth avoiding and should never be invited around for dinner, and most certainly not elected to any positions of power."
So, dear weary fellow Hitchhikers supping here at the Stagger Inn: should you see a bemused Englishman wearing a box or indeed a towel on his head, you now understand why, and can warn him of any Dubyanites nibbling at his toes as he meanders around your big country, occasionally bumping into things.
Posted by jayzn at 07:38 AM | Comments (0)
cinco de mayo!
my evening included:
austin and jen showing up out of the blue!
and
kaya waiting not so patiently for me to get the linens done and remake the entire bed
ta ra!
random quote of the day?
Self-realization. I was thinking of the immortal words of Socrates, when he said, "I drank what?" --Chris Knight, Real Genius
(congrats on the A, zan!)
Posted by tofallfromgrace at 11:32 PM | Comments (1)
suggest that no more live links are posted?
maybe start using h++p://site.etc instead of http://site.etc
i don't know if this system has an option of posting urls as text and not a hyperlink
people could just copy and paste links to their browsers.
did you read the news today? a farmer won the nobel prize without trying...he was outstanding in his field.
Posted by lupine at 02:10 PM | Comments (2)
love a little and give a little too.
just to let you know, everything is cool. i am sore and tired but the weight has lifted off my shoulders just a little. a little goes a long way, you know.
i dealt with police, social workers and various other people, while also attempting to take all three of my tests and maintain a relatively sane state of mind.
did not quite work out. i almost slept through the day as my phone had been ringing all night and early morning due to the situation from the night before. i had taken a call, fallen back asleep and proceeded to bury the phone underneath a mound of pillows. thank goodness for kellie, who called to figure out why i had not shown up for our wednesday lunch.
i scrambled through the rest of the day, always feeling one step behind until at long last the final errand (pressing charges at the sheriff's office) was complete. jamme had gone with me for moral support and when we left we started to wander around aimlessly until we realized what a beautiful day it was. the thought of grilling and enjoying the freedom of having the house completely to myself hit and we went grocery shopping. steak, salad and assorted other goodies were fixed (mostly by jamme as i was busily unpacking my cluttered living area and redistributing my belongings throughout the house once more). kaya, jamme and i were in a food coma before long, barely able to move.
so the end result is that i will be starting overnight shifts on monday. not fun, but at least i still have a job. i am now looking for a roommate, preferably a nice one? so if you have any suggestions, let me know!
thank you all for the concern. i appreciate it very much.
to those who dealt with me being a crying brat last night (you know who you are) i just want to say thanks and i adore you.
the soundtrack to my mind is here.
Posted by tofallfromgrace at 09:33 PM | Comments (1)
'twas midnight on the ocean,
not a streetcar was in sight,
so I stepped into a cigar store,
to ask them for a light.
the man behind the counter
was a woman, old and gray,
who used to peddle doughnuts,
on the road to Mandalay.
she said "good morning, stranger",
her eyes were dry with tears,
as she put her head between her feet,
and stood that way for years.
her children all were orphans,
except one a tiny tot,
who had a home across the way,
above a vacant lot.
as I gazed through the oaken door
a whale went drifting by,
its six legs hanging in the air,
so I kissed her goodbye.
this story has a morale
as you can plainly see,
don't mix your gin with whiskey,
on the deep and dark blue sea.
"Midnight On The Ocean"
Posted by lupine at 03:01 PM | Comments (1)
...well, when i say oil i mean something good...and when i say something good i really mean something that lifted my day (ever so slightly). a bunch of japanese tourists (11...count them...11) asking me for directions at work (a famous scottish university) and after they had received said information they bowed as one to thank me. felt like i was in a movie...t'was sweet :)
Posted by lupine at 01:58 PM | Comments (1)