Interweb Algorithms Say:

You're Siddhartha!

by Hermann Hesse

You simply don't know what to believe, but you're willing to try anything once. Western values, Eastern values, hedonism and minimalism, you've spent some time in every camp. But you still don't have any idea what camp you belong in. This makes you an individualist of the highest order, but also really lonely. It's time to chill out under a tree. And realize that at least you believe in faeries.

Take the Book Quiz

at the Blue Pyramid.

Uh, so yeah. This totally describes me, except maybe the really lonely part, that's where the b.e.d. comes in i suppose. And chilling out under a tree? I'm so ready. Maybe in Mexico...

Oh! Silly Me:

Instead of putting my contacts in this morning, I must have reached for the GROUND UP GLASS by mistake and by the time I got to work, I felt like I wanted to scrape my eyeballss out with a spoon.

I'm Fired!

Yes, yes yes yes yesyes. I missed a post and for no good reason. I am officially firing myself.

Happy Veteran's Day

From Acorns to Oaks:

So Tee? I Think it Might Be Time For Another One Eh?

This time though, let's get a traditional polynesian one ok?

Tahiti here we come!

Always On My Mind:

Dear Ramone,

I know it’s been like 12 years since our cosmic paths collided but I still, to this day, think about you and wonder where I might be now had I joined you and your merry band of school-bus-driving hippies.

You and your fabulous head full of dreads, me in my flowing hippie skirts. Your baby soft hands seemed to find all the knots in my shoulders as you massaged them on the sidewalk in front of the Palace while your friends lovingly coaxed primal beats from their bongos in the background. The connection? It was instantaneous, magnetic and mesmerizing. You and your friends were just passing through on your way to pick mushrooms in Oregon and you wanted us to come with you. As my butterfly brain flirted over that possibility we walked, held hands and each other.

Those two days were completely infused with you; sketch books were filled with my impressions of you. Everywhere I went I would be chanting your name, rolling the R, filling myself with the simplicity of your name. Those two days were buttery and warm to me, they were like sinking into a bathtub of melted chocolate.

Ah, Rrrrramone, I will never forget you.

Auntie Wee

Bumper? What Bumper?

I was behind this car on my way to work this morning. It had not just been in an accident. At what point do you just give up and say fuck it?

On His Way To You:

So If You Don't Hear Back From Me, I Knocked Myself In The Head With The Tassle End:

"Auntie Wee, are you sure I didn't talk to you about doing a demo this Thursday? I could have swore we talked about you playing a weapon form..."

"No Sifu, we talked about me playing a weapon form for the test last month. But I can do one, I was in there practicing my Cern Ca Dao just a minute ago."

"Good, that's the one I want you to play."

"No, problem."

"Except I want you to play it with my sword..."

"Uhhhh....ok? I, uh, might need to start practing with it soon..."

***

Sifu's sword? It looks like this:

Sunday Goals:

My, ahem, goal(s) for the upcoming week:

• Kickbox more
• Eat less sugar

Simple? We'll see.

I Promise, No Kool-Aid:

While I was at the wedding this summer, I was standing in line, talking with Gorrden when I noticed the beautiful indian woman and her husband in line in front of us. As is my habit, I looked down to check out her shoes and saw that she had on these fantastic beaded moccasins. The woman was increadibly shy, but when I complimented on her beautiful moccasins and asked her if I could take a picture of them she lit up and told me absolutely. I asked her if she had made them and she said no, that she hadn't been able to bead since she had had her stroke, and that her sister brought them back for her from Canada. She was very proud of the fact that they were moose hide. Recently I have been wanting to explore my culture, to wrap myself up in it and relax down into it. I've been wanting to have something that I can call my own, something that I feel that I belong to. When I see moccasins like that, with the intricate beadwork, it makes me long for that cultural envelopment even more, but I get overwhelmed with the idea of where to start. As a Texan transplant with roots in Browning, Montana I think it might be hard for me to find a way to connect down here. I realize that I could immerse myself in the culture of wherever I am at the time. That I could use my nomadic roots and rather than one culture, I could assimilate many and make them my own, but when you create something new or your own version of something you're still alone. You don't have a sense of community. So what do you do when you're not willing to join or start your own cult?

Whiter Than Sour Cream:

It is: 4" long, where 2" are brown, and 2" are white and shiney. It is the newest grey hair I found today. The brown one that happened to grow out grey...

Point Your Finger and Make a Sound:

***

Welcome NaBloPoMo!

***

You know, the bribes of banana bread haven't worked and the not so subtle hinting has garnered absolutely no response. I believe the time to re-evaluate has come.

As I was driving last night I had an idea: why not switch it up a little, use some of that psychology I learned and paid am still paying for? And thusly came up with The Decree:

"Thou shalt not visit without first agreeing to a fully engaged night of The Boogie."

Rather than having some namby pamby open invitation just ligering out there forever, I've decided that any future visits will have the prerequisite of a mandatory night of rug-cutting.

Always aware in the back of your mind that you can come visit me whenever you want? Not any more. Now you will actually have to think about it and ask youself; "Do I have the verve to go out and shake it? Can I embrace the public sweating? Am I up for the challenge?"...

Yep, I'm thinkin' about my doorbell - when you gonna ring it?