Soft Boiled Quail Eggs
Akron/Family is playing the Marquis tonight. Tomorrow is the Beehive Collective presentation at the office. Thursday is Toro y Moi at Larimer Lounge for a meager $12. Friday... whatever. It's Friday.
The benign: I was the closest I've been to missing quota at Greenpeace. That was yesterday, at 5:30, I'd raised $115 on a $120 quota (reduced because of a day on the road, better connecting with what we're out to save, er), and there was a black guy walking toward me and a white guy behind him (though I didn't really see the white guy, just knew he was there), and I said: "Hey man, I want to talk with you a moment."
He said: "About what?"
"Your planet," I said, and he shrugged and paused and the white guy was half a step ahead of him by now but he turned around and said: "Hey. I care about our planet." And I pushed the black guy out of the way and signed up Shaun for $15 a month and that's the closest I've been to going on warning.
After work was the vigil for Japan. A small but admirably representative crowd. The vigil was weird, though. The camera to person ratio was a little stacked in favor of hounding for publicity; on the other hand, I know that I meant my moment of silence.
Kathleen made sweet potato and black bean enchiladas and I threw together the kale cabbage onion and avocado salad. We eat so well in this house its incredible. If I can point to any aspect of my life and affirm with pride that that aspect, at least, is a success, may it be that I'm eating home cooked meals nearly every night, and they're always delicious and almost as always really healthy.
Had a solid talk with Geesp today. (kashmir_bitches 101) Back in the states for a few months, working and saving up, living with the folks, enjoying lunches with the grandparents, planning on anything happening. A good point in one's life to be at. (Midwestern-American-English sentence that.) Good to get a bearings on the people who ought to be a part of your life. Real good, in fact.
I'm behind in catching up. Matt and I owe each other a phone call (hermano sloping in Park City). I've been completely absent in communication with my grandmothers... for months now. Even Dad. Not to mention the wedding party. Least of all Tremaine.
I downloaded a bunch of Brazilian psyche-funk albums from the 1970's this morning, on recommendation from NPR, which has such a useful music blog. Anyway, the point of this is: I owe Matt and Geesp a bunch of music. A letter to one grandmother and an e-mail to the other, and the rest will sort itself out.
I was surfing around this morning, downloading music, looking for some good Native American flute tunes. I was digging through Amazon and realized that all the product reviews for Native American flute tunes are written by masseuses and physical therapists.
What to make for dinner tonight? I'd like a bunch of tomatoes. Artichokes potatoes and eggs in purgatory? Heart attack pasta?
Kalamata gazpacho?
Roasted with a stinky cheese and mixed with leafy green and wheat berry salad?
I'm not seeing Akron/Family at the Marquis, because I'd rather have dinner and sort that shit out, but god, I'd love to see Akron/Family, because they are a surging element in my life right now. I'd trade Toro y Moi for Akron/Family, if it weren't that Toro y Moi will be a party: we'll know half the people there (or it will certainly seem).
I'm going to be present this summer. Deliberate, forward summer.
Thank you for this awesome opportunity to rebuild my life.
I am really frustrated with the indie theatres around here lately. Black Swan's on DVD, folks. No one gives a shit to see The King's Speech, anymore, can they? It's been at the Esquire for four bloody months. The only movie out I care to see is Rango. How the hell did that happen?
I need to remember to get a fiddle sometime soon. It's well past time to begin learning that. Maybe I can trade my alto sax for a clarinet. And the harmonica--I've got to take that more seriously, as well. Time to be stocking up on skills. (I also want to learn how to mix natural paints.)
Looks like Mike and Kathleen and Ezra found their new home. It's in the Highlands, it's got a nice backyard with raised beds ready to go. Looks like they'll pro-rate May, and so that's a little more scrambling ahead. Katy and/or Camelia think they'd like the house after we're out, maybe one or both move in and it's like trading two people for two new people; maybe we'll stretch the house out over ourselves a little longer, cos this has always been a house for people who needed a house. I don't know; we'll see.
I'm excited to see Mike and Kathleen and Ezra's new place. Which reminds me to try to get in touch with Hans some time now that tax season is winding down. And to see his new place. And to find a new place?
The benign: I was the closest I've been to missing quota at Greenpeace. That was yesterday, at 5:30, I'd raised $115 on a $120 quota (reduced because of a day on the road, better connecting with what we're out to save, er), and there was a black guy walking toward me and a white guy behind him (though I didn't really see the white guy, just knew he was there), and I said: "Hey man, I want to talk with you a moment."
He said: "About what?"
"Your planet," I said, and he shrugged and paused and the white guy was half a step ahead of him by now but he turned around and said: "Hey. I care about our planet." And I pushed the black guy out of the way and signed up Shaun for $15 a month and that's the closest I've been to going on warning.
After work was the vigil for Japan. A small but admirably representative crowd. The vigil was weird, though. The camera to person ratio was a little stacked in favor of hounding for publicity; on the other hand, I know that I meant my moment of silence.
Kathleen made sweet potato and black bean enchiladas and I threw together the kale cabbage onion and avocado salad. We eat so well in this house its incredible. If I can point to any aspect of my life and affirm with pride that that aspect, at least, is a success, may it be that I'm eating home cooked meals nearly every night, and they're always delicious and almost as always really healthy.
Had a solid talk with Geesp today. (kashmir_bitches 101) Back in the states for a few months, working and saving up, living with the folks, enjoying lunches with the grandparents, planning on anything happening. A good point in one's life to be at. (Midwestern-American-English sentence that.) Good to get a bearings on the people who ought to be a part of your life. Real good, in fact.
I'm behind in catching up. Matt and I owe each other a phone call (hermano sloping in Park City). I've been completely absent in communication with my grandmothers... for months now. Even Dad. Not to mention the wedding party. Least of all Tremaine.
I downloaded a bunch of Brazilian psyche-funk albums from the 1970's this morning, on recommendation from NPR, which has such a useful music blog. Anyway, the point of this is: I owe Matt and Geesp a bunch of music. A letter to one grandmother and an e-mail to the other, and the rest will sort itself out.
I was surfing around this morning, downloading music, looking for some good Native American flute tunes. I was digging through Amazon and realized that all the product reviews for Native American flute tunes are written by masseuses and physical therapists.
What to make for dinner tonight? I'd like a bunch of tomatoes. Artichokes potatoes and eggs in purgatory? Heart attack pasta?
Kalamata gazpacho?
Roasted with a stinky cheese and mixed with leafy green and wheat berry salad?
I'm not seeing Akron/Family at the Marquis, because I'd rather have dinner and sort that shit out, but god, I'd love to see Akron/Family, because they are a surging element in my life right now. I'd trade Toro y Moi for Akron/Family, if it weren't that Toro y Moi will be a party: we'll know half the people there (or it will certainly seem).
I'm going to be present this summer. Deliberate, forward summer.
Thank you for this awesome opportunity to rebuild my life.
I am really frustrated with the indie theatres around here lately. Black Swan's on DVD, folks. No one gives a shit to see The King's Speech, anymore, can they? It's been at the Esquire for four bloody months. The only movie out I care to see is Rango. How the hell did that happen?
I need to remember to get a fiddle sometime soon. It's well past time to begin learning that. Maybe I can trade my alto sax for a clarinet. And the harmonica--I've got to take that more seriously, as well. Time to be stocking up on skills. (I also want to learn how to mix natural paints.)
Looks like Mike and Kathleen and Ezra found their new home. It's in the Highlands, it's got a nice backyard with raised beds ready to go. Looks like they'll pro-rate May, and so that's a little more scrambling ahead. Katy and/or Camelia think they'd like the house after we're out, maybe one or both move in and it's like trading two people for two new people; maybe we'll stretch the house out over ourselves a little longer, cos this has always been a house for people who needed a house. I don't know; we'll see.
I'm excited to see Mike and Kathleen and Ezra's new place. Which reminds me to try to get in touch with Hans some time now that tax season is winding down. And to see his new place. And to find a new place?