Book of the Night Club

Great Glass Pumpkins

Every fall the MIT glassblowing department (Oh yes, they have one. It's very small and hugely popular.) has their primary fund-raising event, the Great Glass Pumpkin sale. People line up as early as 6:00 in the morning for entry to the 10:00 event, where around 1,000 pumpkins created by the department's faculty and students are ripe for the picking (yeah, sorry!). The gourds sell for anywhere from $20-200, depending on their size and complexity

Here's some of this year’s crop:

This one makes me think of Gayle...

No pumpkins made it into our home this year...maybe next time.

How Stressed Out About Job Hunting Am I?

On Monday I meet with a temp agency that specializes in the financial industry. They are almost speechless with joy that I’ve done PCF before.

Please, someone, hire me tomorrow...

Did He Have to Mention the FDIC?

Now, in addition to getting a job and paying off two homes, I'm worried about the pitiful amount of money I have left in the bank.

George Bush and his permissive banking regs got us this far into disaster, now I worry about everything I have. If he felt the need to mention it, then I feel like I have reason to worry. Because really? In a lot of ways, the sky is falling.

Confusion

Today was a strange day. Kept getting my present (Massachusetts) confused with my past (California). Found myself frustrated with the grocery store because it wasn't organized as my old stomping grounds were, so I couldn't find anything. Went to a sale at Macys and wondered why the clothes were so awful, when the selection was always so wonderful in Concord and in the City. Where I don't live anymore.

Husband is in the Fatherland for Photokina, which I tend to call Photophobia. I'd like to have gone, but someone must look after the horde. I can go next year; or, the year after next. Something like that (it's only on every other year).

Read a book (have I mentioned how much I love her covers?), watched the new Wire in the Blood and then, improbably, What's Up, Doc? (I miss Madeline Khan). I wandered around the neighborhood, hoping that soon it would feel as familiar to me as what I left behind.

Hope this feeling stops soon, restlessness does not suit me.

Bette is Back!

The Bette Davis stamp has arrived at last! It features the divine Ms. B in her role as the incomparable Margo Channing from All About Eve, a personal favorite. Please note that Bette appears on her stamp sans cigarette, as she does in every other reproduction of this photo. Because heaven forbid that reality intrude with the postal service! The picture looks odd, and if you look closely you can see the indentation where the ciggie was photoshopped out.

Here’s a thought; maybe they could have found a photo where she wasn’t smoking. A challenge, I’ll grant you…

Don't Diss the Potato

Today was Fester’s first day in the office; Julius stayed behind to whinge at me and seek my help in identifying imaginary sounds. Fes was of course a big hit, but what I did not appreciate was the comparisons that would naturally occur regarding the dogs.

Mommy does not like to play favorites; true, one dog is hyper and playful and engaging and one has the overall personality of a slightly lumpy pillow, but statements like these are not okay with me: "Julius is like a shoddy amalgamation of parts of a dog: Fester is like a real dog."

Don’t mess with the Ji-Jou dog, people. You’ll regret it in the end.

And what's with this, "LIKE a real dog" crap???? Fester is a real dog...

Books a Million

This is the room that is meant to be our home office (more mine than his, because Richard actually has an office). Right now the room is a bit busy to be more than a storage facility, however...

Roughly 94% of everything in this room is books. Yes, books. Got something to say about it? I will have you know that I gave away 30 boxes of books to the local library for their Friends sale, and they were very grateful.

Once we get this room cleaned out and the books all sorted, we can sand and paint the room and make it more presentable. At which point, we may address the additional boxes of books in the basement...

David Foster Wallace, 1962-2008

Fuck

They say creative people are at a greater risk for mental illness. Not that someone who commits suicide is mentally ill, necessarily. I don't know for sure; it’s not my place to judge. I do know that feeling of hopelessness, the inability to believe that eventually things will be better. Having recently...okay, right now...been in that place of feeling like the world cannot change, I cannot change, things cannot be better or get better, things fall apart, things pile up, the dust and the dishes are always there, another evil person is waiting to take the place of the ones who are defeated, there's another hurricane coming, another train wreck, another plane crash, another suicide bombing. There are the things I can't unsay to people I love or loved, the things I can't say to people who are dead and gone, the things I keep doing over and over again to myself that make my life more painful than it needs to be, I know. Trust me, I know.

Even though I believe that no one can ever really be truly known or understood by another person in that way that we all deeply want to, I also think it's true that we're all in that place together, that there are always people who love you in their fumbling, frustrating, unsatisfying ways, and would want you around tomorrow. We all need to hold on to that as best we can, trust that once the worst is over, we’ll be able to look back into the blackness and laugh. Maybe bitterly, but that’s better than nothing.
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Dawning Realization

The animals were shut in the spare room while the pods were being unloaded this morning. When they emerged, there were varying reactions: the cats ran the gamut from thrilled (stuff to climb on!) to somewhat baffled ("This smells familiar..."), while Julius acted like nothing had changed (his default setting). Fes, however, was not to be consoled. He ran from futon to bedroom furniture to the kitchen and back, and in one fell swoop he realized that he was meant to STAY here. In this flat. With strange noises and new smells and people who lived downstairs that he didn't know.

Fes has known no other home since our place in California since he was ten weeks old. Change is hard for him; even harder than it is for me, if you can imagine. Currently he's sprawled on the kitchen floor by a box of canning jars, alternately sighing and snapping at passing felines. I told him that I know how he feels, but I'm not sure he believes me just yet. For both of us, acclimation will come with time.

Cross Country Schlep, Days 6 and 7

We are now reaching the end of our little journey…

Day 6

Was LONG! Drove from Perrysburg, OH to Utica, NY, with a stop at Niagara Falls along the way. Decided against the Amish because I really wanted to get to Medford; besides, it isn’t like they’re going anywhere 

Fester LOVED the Falls…largely because he was the only dog there and everyone loved him! No doubt photos of Fes at the Falls are, as I write, being viewed around the country. Most of the people at the Falls that day seemed to be Southern (“What kinda Dawg is thay-at?”); some random woman with more jewelry that is wise to wear in public even called him “precious”. He was much less so once he rolled in some of the spray the Falls gave off, which is a scent he carried with him until his bath last night.

Niagara Falls is really lovely; not perhaps as exciting as the awe it seems to elicit in some, but lovely and worth the stop. We’d have gone to Canada, too, but my passport was packed in the stuff the movers were bringing. You don’t need your Passport just yet, but you do need something like a birth certificate in addition to your Driver’s License and I tend not to carry that with me.

Day 7

The theme for the day was: Didn’t I Just Pay You People? New York and Massachusetts have toll roads; many, MANY toll roads. If you want to get off of the highway at any point you guessed it, you gotta pay a toll. They even threw some in along the highway on the off chance you hadn’t paid anyone in an hour or so. I mean, I get that it’s all to keep the roads up and everything, but really, the roads aren’t THAT nice, m’kay? So I really doubt that charging me $6.00 to drive 60 miles is really benefiting anyone except for keeping the toll takers in business. Which, being unemployed, I can certainly relate to, but still…

Got to Medford about 1:30 and drive straight to the husband’s office, where I was openly embraced and Fes was chased around by the owner’s borderline psychotic Yorkie. Then to the new place and into BED. Wow. I did it. Wish I’d had more time to look around, but I had a pretty decent time. Maybe next time, Richard can come with me.

Photos today are of the Falls and my spending some quality time showing Julius some of our trip photos. The cats weren’t as interested, but appreciated the additional warmth in bed.

http://www.flickr.com/photos/30153382@N07/

My work here is done; once the pods are unloaded on Saturday, the real work begins!

Cross Country Schlep, Day 4

Okay, so I'm going to try this blog thing again. STOP LAUGHING! I have a very busy life and have virtually nothing to say about it, but I'm working on that.

Today was Day 4 of the trip, where I basically bummed around Iowa all day taking photos.

Check them out, along with the other three days of travel I've done, at my oddly-behaving Flickr account.

I actually like Iowa a lot. Not as flat as Nebraska and for some reason I feel better when I'm there. I think, if we ever move to the Midwest, we'd consider settling here. Buy a few acres and some cows or something...or maybe just some more cats.

Did I mention that Iowa has free Wi-Fi at virtually every Rest Stop? How much more civilized can you get? I could sit outside and check my e-mail whilst Fes rolled around in the grass or played with other dogs and small children. VERY civilized.

My primary aim was to photograph one of my favorite things - cemeteries. However, my detours amongst Iowa's back roads didn't really present me with any good opportunities. It was sunny out, which really made it almost too life-affirming to try and take pictures, anyway. So I settled for the odd abandoned house, wind farms, and various landscapes. Oh, and the Villisca Axe Murder House. Because, have you met me? I love a good historical mystery. The crappy thing is that I didn't get to tour inside the house; the guy who owns it decided to take this Sunday off. Sigh! Still, I took two photos of the outside, and will visit again if I'm ever in the area again.

Hope you enjoy...let me know what you think!