Splendor Ship and Don't Touch My Junk Synchronicity

about a mile from our tiny victorian apartment in san diego, in the bay, sits the gigantic cruiseship splendor while they fix it. (it arrived, not under its own power, just before the veteran's day parade, held a block away.) that was exciting enough.

then san diego in the news again, all over the world, again, for the guy at our airport who uttered the now famous line "Hey, Don't Touch My Junk."

ah, synchronicity, you gotta love it. both incidents happened in our fair city, san diego! both involved travel! both went viral, engendered crass humor, caused a rumpus and ruckus! hooray!

now there are the mysterious explosions in Escondido to account for. what if they somehow link to the other two incidents? won't that be splendid?

have you ever gotten waylaid (no, not laid, waylaid) by security? or by insecurity?

Time Change Blues

i have self-diagnosed SAD. seasonal affective disorder. when the days get shorter i feel sad.

daylight wasting time makes it darker one hour sooner. why oh why, i wail. so last year i refused.
i did not change my clocks. bad enough it gets dark at six, but five? hell no.
march to the beat of a different drummer, don't let the man get you down, etc etc.

also, when i get up i turn on the lights in every room. i know i know. it's environmentally unfriendly.
but by doing so i figure i keep several hundred empty plastic anti-depressant bottles over the course of my lifetime out of the landfill. it uses petroleum to make plastic, after all.

besides, anti-depressants can cause suicidal feelings. a side effect. hmm.

so how do you, my friends, cope with the time change, the blues, winter doldrums, the man? any hints or tips?

Forget Your Troubles, Walk, Write, Paint

a walk in the park, honeysuckle and violets, tiny lizards lizarding.
(these are a few of my favorite things...)

bunnies hiding from newly watered grass, or hot November sun.

misty mountains far away, layer upon layer of blue.

the famous Taos painter, Bill Rane once said to me, Use every shade of blue.

so, to break writer's block, and even painter's block (Ralph!)--
use every shade of blue.

what is YOUR favorite shade of blue?

Further Phone Fiasco

so i go on a week long vacation to Taos with my new cell phone and it's running out of minutes very fast. when i get home, i call ATT and the customer disservice rep won't give me any details about our account even tho my name is on it because i don't have mi espouso's social security number memorized. ugh. but she will answer general questions. ok.

how did i use 50 minutes on the train when out of the service area and couldn't even call anyone?? guess what. it uses minutes to record voicemail. understandable. BUT it also uses minutes to dial MY OWN voicemail and listen to those messages. ouch!

it even uses minutes (rounded up of course) to call MY OWN home phone on the same account! ayeeee!

she can't tell me when my minutes renew. she gives me a code to access the info on my phone. (which uses minutes.) i try it. it tells me i am almost out of minutes, but doesn't tell me when the minutes renew. arrrgh.

i hang up and yell, "I hate you ATT and i'm glad i wrote mean things about you on my blog!" (and decide ATT now stands for Assinine Terrible Turds.)

it takes me an hour to calm down. i go outside to eat lunch and drink a bud lite. halfway through my hummis and English Water Crackers i notice a truck parked in the street in front of my apartment house. it's ATT.

o my gosh they are stalking me.

Phone Fiasco

so i order a new phone, to call my new friend Bono (see last post) and it comes in the mail, and i go to the ATT store to get it all set up and transfer the number we've been using for two-plus years.

(millie mccarthy, our greyhound, got a brand new tag for her b-day from Dublin Dog Company and the new cell phone number would have rendered it obsolete, not to mention the hassle of changing it elsewhere...)

so after many tries and fails when its all finally seemingly done, the off-site ATT people say i now have to return the phone because i have violated the contract by changing the number. or i owe them a cancellation fee. or both! so i grumble that i will cancel all my ATT--the internet, fax, home phone.

so the nice people at the store, as opposed to the nasty horrible people off-site, give me a free phone and the number i wanted.

only took an hour of my life i will never get back. makes me wonder if ATT stands for Awful Time Takers.

Bono Synchronicity in San Diego

at the hairdresser's friday she's telling me about her trip to Ireland (so jealous am i) and i'm telling her my husband surprised me with tickets to see u2 next june. (our favorite group.) we're Irish.


that night we go to an art opening in Balboa Park. guy walking around looks just like BONO. truly. diamond ear-studs, leather jacket, pink tinted eyeglasses, hair, build, eyes-nose-chin. indeterminate European accent. so i go up and tell him. the chap with him says, How do you know he's not Bono?? oh my god, i say, are you? they both claim yes.


i bring my husband over, and he can't tell for sure either, and we don't want to make the guy prove it cuz what if he REALLY IS BONO?


see you on june 18th, Bono says as we walk away. he knows the date of the concert! maybe it really is him!

so when we get home we check the internet and u2 is in Italy. damn.but there is a Bono impersonator in san diego. Pavel Sfera, (www.bonodouble.com.)

so Pavel, you really had us going. cheers.

and readers, who's the biggest celebrity you've ever met?

Writing Assignment to Break Writer's Block

simple.

just write;
"i don't want to write about__________"
then let it rip. (free write...)

every time you bog down, write:
"and i certainly don't want to write about____________
and i would hate to write about_______
and i will NEVER write about________

scary, huh?
but way cool results, really.

what don't you want to write about?

Obsession (Recently On The News...)

what i can't get of my mind is this man had a lump, i mean a spot, of darkness in his lung, and when they went in there they found a sprouted pea.

another man had a tiny pine tree growing in his lung. somehow that is poetic, to picture it. isn't it?

(i do not know if women grow things in their lungs.)

we are still following Ray Bradbury. still mining our "loves, hates, fears and obsessions."

so if you're a writer and you wish to have an assignment (even tho the root word of assignment is ass) maybe you can write a poem, story, blurt, blog, slug, blot, wart, or worm about "the things that grow in the lung."

maybe a quirky haiku.

i can't seem to.

God Moons Moses

at church sunday pastor andre said God never hides himself from us. hmm.

what about when moses asked to see God
and God said he would pass by and show himself,
but only his backside...

it wasn't the first incident of mooning,
but it was the most spectacular.

Barbra Streisand Synchronicity

while my husband got a haircut i wandered down to a thriftstore. four cassettes for a dollar. i vacillated between bette midler and barbra striesand, but i already have bette. so i got my first barbra. "memory".

(wanted to see if the cassette player in our new used '92 jetta works. it does not.)


got home and put the cassette next to my old (from high school) Sylvania record player with radio and double cassette feature. very cool. but didn't listen.


next day walked by the community garden. man gardening says to me, "has anyone ever told you that you look like barbra streisand?" (yes, but not since i was eleven, which is over twenty years ago.)


a week later i'm again walking and a street person on trash day getting cans to recycle says, "you're a pretty lady." i keep walking. "come back," he shouts, "you look like barbra streisand!" what are the odds?


so i go home, listen to "memory" about ten times, develop an overwhelming desire to see CATS, and begin to suspect there is a gay man trapped inside my body yearning to get free.


what does this all mean? what should i do next? obviously the universe is giving me a message, but what?