Dinosaurs of Anarcia

Why We Will NEVER Move to Russia

2011-07-30T02:11:00.000-07:00

Our time at the Moscow airport was very intense on our way to Prague. We only had twenty minutes to catch our flight, so we were literally yelled through security. That wasn't too terrible; I actually felt kind of bad for the lady, mostly because in front of me a Chinese man (who was paying no attention to the cries of the staff to move) was standing in front of me with his belt undone trying to figure out why he couldn't go through security. I know Asians (I fancy myself an expert) and I knew they would not step aside to let me pass. They love crowds/lines and their business is getting to the front of them. The older they are the more this is true. I figured that Russians woman's job must be pretty hard and this intensity was a fluke or a rough time of the day.

I was wrong.

The morning started with a mostly Russian people filled flight out of Prague. Russians also seem adept at not creating lines, but rather huddles of people all trying to push their way to the front. God Bless America, amIright? This portrayed rudeness and blatant disregard for structure along with our complete lack of sleep did not make for happy campers. Luckily, God (or whomever) sent an angel (or whatever) in the form of a check-in person type-thing. He gave us an exit row, didn't complain when one of our bags was a pound over weight, and didn't charge us for the extra bag! We were stoked.

Two hours later, we arrived in Moscow.

We went through security which was not bad and not busy. Then we walked the mile (possibly some slight exaggeration, but not by much) to Terminal D. Once we found our gate, BrontoRen discovered that along the way, she had dropped her boarding pass. Now, this sucks and is entirely her fault -- something she willingly admits. What we all know is that pointing fingers isn't going to fix anything and I could tell she felt badly enough, so I didn't say or do anything. I told her I was sure that they would simply print her a ticket at the gate, like they do for standby. BrontoRen, as usual when I act like I know something, didn't believe me so I asked a woman who worked at a boarding gate. I explained the situation, she scowled at me and said "I don't know." I thought this was weird since it would seem like her job to know. BrontoRen asked someone else who was already answering questions posed by others. She rambled in Russian and then said "Aeroflat." Since that is our airline we gathered she meant talk to someone who works for Aeroflat.

We found an Aeroflat/Finnish Air mix. There were three older gentleman and one woman. The men all tried to help us but did not speak English. BrontoRen and I were okay with that, and, after a year in China, have well-established our pantomime skillz. So we flustered around. I pointed to my ticket and then to me. Pointed to BrontoRen and then threw my hands up in the air and looked around. BrontoRen showed her itinerary and showed her old ticket from Prague to Moscow, they scanned passports just for fun and wrote down the name of our gate. This went on for awhile. Then, out of nowhere, the woman who had been standing there the whole time says "What can I help you ladies with?" Are you kidding me? Do they have bets going as to how long they can make foreigners do that? She informed us to go to the Transfer Office.

We headed out to find the office and asked an airport worker "Do you know where the Terminal office is?" She said "I do not know." I guess knowing things about your job and your work environment are not requirements in Moscow.

We walked all the way to the end of the Terminal, found a map, walked around to this crazy place we have no understanding as to how we got there, and found the woman who had previously talked to us at the information desk. She said "I have called the Terminal Office about you. They will give you a ticket at your gate when they start boarding."

No shit.

In Soviet Russia, you don't sit in airport, airport sits on you.

On the bright side, BrontoRen and I figure this is another testament to our love. If we didn't divorce today, we never will.

Actually, I can't blame them too much. My favorite French sentence is: "Je ne sais pas" -- I don't know.

We're Back and More Asian Than Ever!

2011-07-24T15:29:00.000-07:00

For some reasons we thought people stopped blogging, so we did too. We jump on bandwagons like that. Then we moved to China, and we can't get access to the website there. That makes this whole writing thing a little bit harder.

Since it has been a year, I know I should say some awesome things. I should mention that BrontoRen came back from Korea and we had a crazy few months living with my mother. Then, amazingly, we both got jobs in China and this story is too good to pass up. So BrontoRen, predictably, got a little overwhelmed living with her in-laws. She was applying for any and all jobs that came her way. What ended up coming her way was, while she was checking my email, an announcement that China was looking for ESL teachers for Chinese universities. Since that's my degree, BrontoRen gave them my name...without informing me. Of course, they wanted to talk to us and I was never going to go. The pay alone was a joke. (My current co-worker considers working in China as a year of charity. The pay is that laughable.) But, one day when I was happily American, BrontoRen got an offer from an American university to work at their Chinese campus. The campus was located in the exact same city as the Chinese university that was offering me a job. The coincidence was too much for us to avoid. The stars lined up and we moved across the planet.

It was the greatest accidental decision we have ever made.

Currently, we are living in Prague for the month of July so BrontoRen can take a writing workshop. She is the only Ph.D. in the group and the undergrads are making us feel ridiculously old. No one told me that once you hit 25 you might as well be 70 -- anyone under 25 can't tell the difference. Also, I found four gray hairs today...ugh.

Other than that, Prague is great. BrontoRen is writing at least one poem a day and all of them have been very good. Today, one of the "moms" (women in the group who are old enough to be my mother) came up to me and said (motioning towards BrontoRen) "She is very talented, isn't she?" The poor woman had no idea that talking about BrontoRen is my favorite hobby. I sort of bombarded her. Well, can't blame a girl for speaking the truth...

Now here is an embarrassing truth that I need to mention. The sun sets very early where we live in China because the whole country is on the same time zone. Because I didn't want to get lost in the dark, I stayed home once it hit about 6:00 p.m. during the first few weeks there. Needless to say, I was SUPER bored. Also, I love Mentos and one of my favorite things when I visit a foreign country is to see the different kind of flavors they have. When these forces combine, it creates a super-loser version of me that looks online for all the flavors of Mentos in all the world. This required me to not only navigate websites in languages I can't read, but also translate flavor names, and transfer all the information to a notebook. I know...loser.

Well, today, in the Czech Republic, I found Mentos called "Kiss Me." They taste just like regular mint Mentos, except two of them, in the package of fourteen, are pink. This was odd to me so I googled it to figure out what was going on. This googling showed that some people are far bigger losers than me. Some people have entire blogs dedicated to all the different flavors of Mentos, describing the flavors as "woodsy" and "floral" and other such craziness.

It seems there is a whole spectrum of losers out there.

Hopefully, we will post more because, even if you don't care, I like thinking I will read this again when I am 50 or 70 or 28. Really, what's the difference?

Disturbing Dream Sponsored by MySpace

2010-04-19T09:06:00.000-07:00

A group out on the street is yelling at me to search for this thing we all agreed I should have given to them a long time ago. I go through the cars and reach the car of a friend. I open the trunk to discover it is lined with garbage bags, which I instantly conclude means that he is a killer who stores his bodies in there. I don't want to give away his secret, so I try to shut the trunk, but it won't shut. I run inside to tell my friend, and in the meantime, a car crashes into my friend's car, revealing the secret to the woman who crashed the car and to the police. My friend sees this happen and goes inside. I go in a little while afterwards to find his dead body hanging from the rafters. I scream and drag my lifeless body outside to scream some more. When I come back in, the ghost of my friend is sitting on a bed with an open laptop in front on him. "You created a MySpace account in my name, didn't you?" he asks. I say yes. He's disturbed because he doesn't like any of the people who added him as a friend. Then a pastor starts speaking and a Jimi Hendrix phantom rises up out of the floor. He is holding a lotus flower that is shooting out a cylindrical flame. He holds up the lotus flower to his mouth so the flame can shoot out of it. At the same time the pastor mentions something about cigars. My friend and I look at each other and smile because my friend really likes cigars.

The Sun and Moon Made Real with Eyes Poetry Workshop

2010-04-16T12:24:00.000-07:00

Poster Design = Charity Kear

Julia Writes about My Belly

2009-11-21T03:30:00.000-08:00

If I fall down in the 10 years hill the Annie teacher will change in to ghost. In the 10 years hill Annie teacher was a ghost and Annie teacher surprised me at night. The Annie ghost was Mysterious. I will roll in the 10 years hill and touch the Annie clay of the Mysterious. I touch the Annie mind and there was a secret mysterious mind. I saw the Annie change in to giant teacher I surprised. Annie teacher will be smaller when I go to the Annie mind. The Annie husband brother's was same with Annie so I was so mad at the Annie. The Annie tricked me. I was happy.

Our Big Beautiful Lesbian Wedding

2009-09-24T19:07:00.001-07:00

Welcome to the world, Atticus Lane!

I Am Always Ugly

2009-08-28T05:11:00.000-07:00

I am always ugly because I burp all day. But I want to be pretty. But how can I don't burp? Yes I will drink water. And Burp! How can it be? There said, "Pick up a hair and mix it with a cocoa and drink it." This, This, and This! I am finish! I turn to adult! No burps. Hurry! No Burp! But one day! Burp! Why I am Burping. Second day I don't burp. One day mother was mean. And throw a clock. Burp! Burp! Burp! Burp! Burp! I went to home. Burp! Burp! Burp! Burp! I can't not be ugly! Yes. I do this! One day I die. and I still burp. And people fix it. The End.

Amy, kindergartener

I Love You!

2009-08-20T04:37:00.000-07:00

When I cry, I love you. Angry, I always love you.

"So that means I always have to love you?"

Yes! Of course, you have to because I love you when I do that.

"Oh, really?"

Yes or I will.

-Amy, kindergartner

Sky Man's Skin

2009-08-06T04:58:00.001-07:00

Question 1
How do you spell: "Soon they would challenge the law of the jungle."?

Pola, kindergarten student who memorized _The Jungle Book_.

Student Essay about Communion

I am get a bread.
It is sky man's skin.
It is fun to go to church.

Dash, Grade 3

Gabriela Mistral

2009-08-04T04:38:00.000-07:00

My take on a student's artwork: Here's Gabriela Mistral writing poetry at her desk. Little does she know, she's in the mouth of a giant sea monster that just so happens to have a train running at full speed up its throat. The flying serpent is also dropping a bundle of dynamite right above Gabriela's head. What is she going to do? Win a Nobel Prize in Literature, that's what.

Gabriela Mistral drawing by Henry, Grade 3

Men in Black and Kindness Lane

2009-07-29T18:23:00.000-07:00

I’m currently reading poetry for a week in Melbourne, Australia. After reading at an open mic session at a bar called the Arthouse, a guy got up to do a comedy routine. It turned out to be a conspiracy-driven confessional type of thing. He claimed that he hasn’t been getting enough sleep lately because the Men in Black come into his room at night to force him to go on asteroid travels to save the world. He kept forgetting the actual comedy part, which was something about a movie starring Arnold Schwarzenegger; Sylvester Stallone; Robert De Niro; Vin Diesel; and for absolutely no reason (dramatic sound effect), Vince Vaughn. It was pretty funny, and he did impersonations of all the actors, which were great. What I love about his performance is that it wasn’t really scripted, he was a little drunk, and he was honest about things like his bisexuality. He started talking about this after someone called out “bisexual” for him talk about. Some guy also called out “self-growing flower.” It was just all-around amazing, and I wish I could see performances like that on Comedy Central.

What has impressed me about Melbourne is the multicultural atmosphere, the graffiti art, and how I’m constantly surprised by what I find when I’m out walking the streets. Here’s some graffiti art I stumbled upon. I found these down an alley called “Kindness Lane.”

How to Solve Problems

2009-07-24T10:01:00.000-07:00

I can solve problems very well, whenever, wherever. Now, I'll tell you how to do that job. First, look for a problem. Second, think about an idea. Third, order the people who are in trouble to do what you say. Then, the problem is solved! Also, you will need wisdom. Without the wisdom, it will be hard to solve problems. I'm wise, so I can do that job easily.

-Yurim, Grade 1

Korean Jesus Christ Superstar

2009-06-27T04:27:00.000-07:00

The volume is low at first, but it gets louder.

Excerpt from "The White House Tapes"

2009-06-21T04:46:00.000-07:00

XI.

Once I was convinced that everything would be okay if I could just look under every teapot in town. Last year, Larry’s got smashed, so he burned his whole house down. I stopped this from happening to me by using yarn to separate everything in my apartment, even pages in books. I had to show where one thing ended and the other began, just like Mrs. Heinberger suggested. I see her every night. I wear a pea coat and weep into my head between my legs for it to stop. I love how she tries to outdo herself each time. Sometimes she ignores me completely when I’m there. I just walk in and stand facing the corner for a while until I’m ready to see. One time she was messing with a Ouija board. The cat’s tail twisted like a crooked butter churn for sure. I know I was supposed to be scared, but everything everywhere else was worse. A red-robed figure only walked by in the mirror. He gave me a pock mark. Mrs. Heinberger told me she threw away the crystals that were supposed to protect us, and that was just like her. The funniest thing is that when we lay on her bed, staring up at the ceiling, we both panicked and fell over ourselves to get off. The ceiling was glowing, so I was brave and stood up on a chair to pick at it. It stuck to my hand for a while and I screamed: I got some on me! I got some on me! But sure enough, they were just glow-in-the-dark stars her son put up the day before. Later, we would touch nothing in particular and say: I got some on me! for a big laugh. But that night, she said that when she rubbed my scabs she could see violet fire on ram’s horns. Without bad, there can’t be good, she told me. A shadow snake twisted below us. How could any future marriage compare?

I Am Not A Robot - Marina & the Diamonds

2009-06-21T02:05:00.000-07:00

Hiking at Bukhansan National Park

2009-06-15T05:06:00.000-07:00

I went hiking up (and down) a mountain with some friends from work last Sunday. With no preparation at all except running for a week, I went and was determined to keep up with people who had years of experience hiking. I would like to think that I would have made it to the very top if I hadn't worn horrible shoes and it hadn't started raining, but it became necessary to pull myself up an incline with my hands and not fall, and I'm not sure when I'll be ready for that. I was about twenty feet short of the very top. Here are some things I learned about mountain climbing in Seoul:

1) Many hikers get drunk at the top and then return back down.
2) Don't yell in victory at the very top.
3) Most hikers have high quality gear complete with hiking sticks.
4) You may get a free chestnut.

A mountain in front of the one I climbed.

Ice cream break.

Around the time I decided I wanted to become a professional mountain climber.

Then it started to rain.

A temple on the mountain.

Around the time I decided I didn't want to become a professional mountain climber anymore. A man offered me a chocolate bar because he thought I was going to pass out.

Where things got intense.

In a corner waiting to go back down.

I had to ease myself down backwards.

After things calmed down a bit.

Possibly staged.

Wisdom from Tom Lee, Kindergarten Student

2009-06-04T04:09:00.000-07:00

After North Korea's nuclear and missile tests, Tom Lee's picture made me feel better. The worst that could happen is "ouch."

Quote from My 1st Grade Student, Eric

2009-05-29T20:44:00.000-07:00

I think this isn't real.

Me: What do you think isn't real?

I think life isn't real. I think I had a dream when I was one and now I'm seven.

This Happened Much Too Soon . . .

2009-05-29T16:01:00.000-07:00

Hero Guitars of the Fantastic Legacy

2009-05-24T05:53:00.000-07:00

Psychotic Sea Creatures Shoving Koreans into a Submarine

2009-05-12T17:22:00.000-07:00

One of BronotRen's co-workers told me that if there is a way to process sea food, Koreans know all about it. The most interesting one of these processes that we unexpectedly ran across was squid drying.

Later, in a 7-11, I saw the top, smooth, white part of the squid packaged and sold as jerky. The tentacly part was sold as jerky too, just separately. I am not cool enough to try it.

By far, the coolest thing we have seen is when we were at the market and saw an octopus in an aquarium waiting to be sold. We watched it swim a little bit and then we watched it CRAWL OUT OF THE AQUARIUM and onto the table. It continued to half-way crawl to the floor before the saleslady picked it up (you could hear all the suckers go plop plop plop) put it in a bag, and put it back in some water. I screamed when the octopus landed on the table and the saleslady just laughed at me.

When we were on our tour of Jeju, we were with two older women (one not as old as the other) who were also in Korea teaching English. They invited us to go with them on a submarine ride. It turns out that the Guinness World Record holder for longest tourist submarine rides is in Jeju. We got our tickets and were first in line because everyone else was sitting down in the lobby. When we finally got to walk to the boat that would take us to the submarine, there was this grandma with her grandson who pushed right past BronotRen, me, and the other ladies. When we got to the boat, before we stopped to get on the submarine, the Korean workers gathered up all the non-Asians on the boat (all 5 of us) and got us in line to get on the submarine first. The reason? Because the Asian tourists would trample us to death if we weren't given a head start. It was pretty obvious too. One of the American's held them off with her back while the non-Asians all got off the boat. It was intense.

Once on the Submarine, we learned a lot of things. 1) I am scared of submarines. Seriously, they do the whole "in case of an emergency thing" but really? The pressure outside of the submarine will collapse our lungs if we don't have a breathing apparatus. They showed us basketballs at different levels to demonstrate the pressure. We would just die -- that is all that could happen. Who cares about life jackets? 2)Koreans are allowed to yell at other people's kids. The grandson and pushy grandmother sat on the other side of the submarine from us and, depending on what we were supposed to see, we had to switch sides. Well, we weren't being all that aggressive about making sure they moved so we could see because we are easy going like that. The tour guide came over and started speaking very fast and loud to the grandson and slapped his butt for him to move over. The irony? When he moved over, BrontoRen couldn't see anymore.

The funniest part (probably because it was the only part in English so I have nothing to compare it to) was when we saw a sunken submarine (see, these things sink! What happened to everyone on that ship? They died! Or at least I think that is what he said, I don't really understand Korean). The tour guide said, in English, "Look to your left you will see the Titanic. Made in Korea." It was great because the five English speaking people laughed and everyone else looked confused -- a complete reversal from the other 35 minutes of the ride.

Something sort of fascinating is happening with my language. I spend most of my day out and about trying to talk to people that I don't have a common language with. That's fine; I am not one of those American's who thinks everyone should know English. I am doing my best to learn some things in Korean but it is taking some time because I have to find people who know both English and Korean to tell me the words I need to know. Right now, I am trying to figure out "sorry" or "excuse me." Since I don't have language, I rely on what I do have which is apologetic looks and smiles. When people are nice to me, I bow a little and smile appreciatively; the other day, BrontoRen poured me some water and that is how I responded to her. I forget she knows English. I am used to my Asian students speaking to me in broken English, mostly relying on nouns with some verbs, so that is what I have reverted to. I use only English nouns and sometimes verbs if I feel confidant the person I am speaking to will understand it. When I need to speak in Korean, I filter through the Spanish and French I know before I can grasp the correct Korean word. I also tend to pronounce Korean words like French words, which is exactly opposite of what I should be doing. It just feels like I am in severe survival mode so everything I know about languages (except my own) is coming to the forefront. I love being here and having to communicate through other ways besides language -- I am learning so much about myself and universal truths of humanity (in some situations, everyone is going to be saying the same thing, no matter the country). It is an invaluable experience for me as a TESOL instructor. I think everyone should do this at least once. It is pretty freaking awesome.

Fish Women and a New God -- As Promised!

2009-05-11T16:57:00.000-07:00

On Jeju Island, there is a law that only women can be oyster divers. It has been tradition for women to do it since the beginning of time but no one gives the women the respect they deserve. For 20 days every month, for 4-5 hours a day, they hold their breath for 2-3 minutes at a time and dive for oysters. They come back with 5-10 pounds of oysters that they have to swim in along with their ball thing that lets people know they are out there. Then they have to drag the oysters to wherever they are going. The only extra respect these women get is someone made a statue for them. They are the lively hood of the island and have been for hundreds of years; they should have their own holiday and festival. Little girls should want to grow up to be them and little boys should be jealous they can't. Our tour guide said they might get more respect in 10 years when there are less divers. Right now there are about 5000 and most of them are grandmas.

Okay, so I mislead you with the "new" god thing. Buddha is actually a very old god, but it was new for BrontoRen to give him an offering of three bags of rice. We visited a Buddhist temple that was 5 stories tall, had 80,000 miniature gold plated Buddha statues, and opened up their temple to visitors who wanted to experience the life of a monk for a weekend. BrontoRen quickly fell in love.

After the temple, BrontoRen and I went to the beach and swam in the East Sea. It was amazing. Everyone gawked at us because they couldn't believe people were swimming when the water was that cold. We even had some Australian guy come up and ask us how we could do it. We just said we were from the coldest part of the states so we were used to it. What we weren't used to was the sun, and we have nasty sunburns to prove it. Also, we got so much sand everywhere that we are still picking it out of our hair and off of our bodies two days and many showers later. But, my lord, it was fun.

JeJu Island

2009-05-10T17:38:00.001-07:00

BrontoRen and I went on a wonderful trip to an island paradise. Here are some pics:

On JeJu air, the cabin attendants brought out all these fun things for passengers to pose with and even made balloon animals. Mostly those were for the kids, but I got so excited, she made me one too.

BrontoRen was so scared during take off that she left marks in my hand when I offered it to her for comfort.

She wasn't prepared to be on a small plane, but once we were in the air, she was fine.

Once we landed, the guy who picked us up in the taxi told us to wait here:

Here is some pretty scenery:

I'll post more tomorrow or later today. Still to come: fish women, BrontoRen paying homage to a new god, psychotic sea creatures, and the Korean art of shoving. Don't miss it!

Scenes from Seoul

2009-05-01T22:39:00.000-07:00

Statues at Seoul National Forest

Newspaper encased in glass for all to read

The dogs belong to the cozy nuts

Graffiti near where I work

Weeeeeeeeee!

In the Hand as of Life

2009-04-28T09:00:00.000-07:00

The milk is to of your goodness as do it is to body, you better is to know as to the best is to of your belief, the day of their apple is to shunned the doctor as who wanted is to intervene, you are is to the neigh as to my gift is to of mouth, did you is to fight as to your very is to finish, it itself is to fears from the nothing as it fears most is to of all, the young ones said, is to “Good,” as but died first is to from their heads, bring is to your as own staged is to world, the spicy one is to in the hand as of life is worth two is to bushes.

6th Grade Collaborative Writing

2009-04-06T05:20:00.000-07:00

The briefcase was full.
The yellow, blue, white, and black T-shirt, that smells like lavender, tasted like a pudding when I took it out of the briefcase.

The woman was nice.
The pig-faced woman who grunted and oinked, tasted like Ping Pong Pig and was deeply humiliated.

The tape was sticky.
The slimy blue tape tasted like cola.

The animal was angry.
Ping Pong Pig was angry because Drake found him and put him in the boiling toilet-pot of spaghetti.

I felt sick.
I taste like orange juice when my face is reddish green with chicken pox.

I was dirty.
I was covered with poo that looks like chocolate and sounds like “plop,” “plop,” “plop.”

My mom was mad at me.
My mom was angry that I hugged her when I was covered in poo. Her skin looked like cheese mixed with chocolate. She ran crazily into a car and died.

I won an award.
I won an award for being covered in black slime pumpkin juice that sounds like crunchy, plopping greenish pickles.

The color blue
Color blue tastes like blueberries, looks like toilet water, sounds like swishing, and feels like cool, slimy, icy water.

I Like How I Don't Look Impressed

2009-04-03T08:50:00.000-07:00

Deer Promise

2009-04-02T05:05:00.000-07:00

Today, one of my seven-year-old students sang "Almost Paradise" under his breath in between shouting out words like "bridge" and "cabin."

Another student, when asked to write about and draw a promise she plans to make, drew a portrait of me surrounded by deer.

Out of all the deer promises that have been made to me, that one is definitely in the top five.

Some thoughts in my head lately...

2009-03-31T16:12:00.001-07:00

I accidentally bought 2% milk. What is wrong with Country Fare to not know that skim milk is pink, 1% is green, 2% is blue, whole is red, and cream is purple. Instead, they think 2% is light fuchsia. I usually drink Land O Lakes because they know their colors and give 2 cents per purchase to a school lunch program in Africa.

I care way too much about what my 25 most played songs are on iTunes. It's like a competition between the songs that only I know or control. I think I might be losing my mind

Where is this blizzard? I am so ready for it. I have enough food to make French Onion soup for supper every night for a week. I looked at the Doppler radar last night and the storm was like a doughnut and Vermillion was in the hole in the middle of the doughnut. It was weird. I was hoping it would come because I had a test today. I took it anyway and I think I did all right.

I went to a doctor for my insomnia. He was very nice and beautiful and gave me some drugs. I felt stupid for going because I made the appointment when I became so restless during the night and I couldn't hold still to sleep. I read up on the internets that Tylenol PM had a side effect of restlessness and since it wasn't working for me anyway, I stopped taking it. I still went to the appointment though, essentially apologizing the whole time for wasting their time. Oh well.

The song that was playing on my comp and my dryer both stopped at the same time. Very weird.

Okay, so here is what I really want to talk about. (Apologies to SuperBigMuch for having to hear this again.) When I was in Mitchell, my BFF there told me that this kid I went to undergrad with is now in jail in Arizona for sleeping with his students. I think technically he was a coach and they were his b-ball players, but the principal is the same. This kid and I were not friends but often we did end up yelling at each other in the hallways because he was so stupid and we drove each other nuts. I and my liberal ways drove a lot of people crazy at D-dub. The most interesting thing is that in the comments of the online articles about him are people who are calling him a monster and creepy. While I admit that his arrest photo sucks, like everyones, he is not a monster and he isn't creepy. Don't think I am defending him, but I know this kid; he is stupid and insecure and really wants to be one of the cool guys and he never will be. He is not really a monster or a creep. Since I know him, I can see how this happened. It was his consistent desire to be liked, accepted, and "cool" that drove him to abuse the power he had over these girls. When he was at D-dub, he was an RA and whenever he would do stupid things, the person in charge of all the RA's wouldn't really do anything and he could get away with it because she, too, was never a cool kid and always wanted to be. He'd essentially flirt his way out of any problem and she would let him because she was flattered by the attention. I know that the responsibility of his actions rest entirely on him, but I do think there was an important life lesson that he failed to learn because the people around him who were supposed to teach it refused to.

I don't know. What do you think?

The Sock

2009-03-29T05:38:00.000-07:00

On the subway, sometimes I wonder what will happen when the doors close and no one can get off until the next stop. One time, a man carrying a long bag put a pink sock on his hand and went up and down the subway car, talking in Korean and motioning with his sock. No one would look at him, but I did because I felt like he was blessing us. Up and down, left and right with the sock, thoroughly and solemnly. Yes, yes, I thought, the sock, but more importantly, this man with this sock. He looked at us to see if we were purifying ourselves. I was! I was! A destroyer, long and sleek like a panther, ran alongside the subway, choking himself because the sock told him to. The man didn’t want to kill the destroyer, but he wanted him to realize that he could be so much better than what he was. Maybe the man wore the sock so we wouldn’t be blinded by his healing hand. A boy who was sitting on a tricycle next to his grandfather, put his hands together in prayer and bopped his head up and down. He wasn’t afraid to look at the man or fall off his tricycle, which he did. I wanted to be touched with the sock in between my eyes and on my ears. I saw a brontosaurus, a one-armed jack-o-lantern, and a group of kids in puritan frocks run alongside the subway wearing socks on their hands. I’d seen them before, but they didn’t have socks on their hands at all! I was so sorry that I kept looking at the woman who smelled like pee. I did it for all the wrong reasons. She was sitting all alone on her bench. Look up at the sock, I wanted to scream at her in Korean. She wouldn’t be sad anymore for sure. Then the man opened his bag and brought out even more socks. These had price tags on them and product logos. He walked up and down the car with them, wanting money, no doubt. I knew I should have felt crushed or foolish that the man was just selling cleaning supplies, but he couldn’t take back and ruin what he didn’t know he did. I bought a sock and then left it on an ATM. Later, I saw a grey alien dead in a gutter. No connection. It’s easy enough for me to tell.

Paparazzo

2009-03-22T06:37:00.000-07:00

All I have to say is that yesterday my jacket and pants got sprayed with a bidet stream. I was trying to flush the toilet.

And today I chased after this woman so I could capture these wonderful words:

The exquisite
charm of light and shade
BLISSFUL
Fortune and its daughter of confidence

Korea!

2009-03-07T03:28:00.000-08:00

My First Morning in Seoul

Poly School

Poly Bus

Where I Walked Around with Cups of My Own Urine

Well Being

Waiting

Girl with a Pearl Earring Cappuccino Drink

Sign-O-Rama

The Saddest Thing

2009-03-02T10:56:00.000-08:00

BrontoRen left today. We spent the night in Omaha and I took her to the airport this morning at 4 a.m. -- or rather, we meant to get there at 4 and it ended up to be more like 4:30 but it was still fine. I then drove home at 5:30 because I was lost around Omaha for half an hour. The second I parked the car at home, BronotRen called from Chicago to let me know her flight went well and she seems to have gotten over her debilitating fear of flying. We'll see what she thinks of her 15 hour flight from San Fran to Seoul.

After I got home, I took a nap since I was running on 2 hours of sleep. When I woke up, I was startled to find that I was in bed alone and I yelled out "Annie?" to find out where she was...then I remembered that she was on her way to Korea.

And that was the saddest thing.

BrontoRen's Last Week...hopefully

2009-02-22T20:53:00.001-08:00

We say hopefully because she is waiting on the Korean Consulate to approve her VISA application. If he/she/they do approve it, then she is leaving Saturday. If he/she/they do not, then I don't know what.

So to celebrate her leaving or not leaving or to keep us from crying, the Brontogens (as my sis calls us) went on a getaway this weekend. Here is a simple and nice vacation idea -- drive somewhere close by, get a jacuzzi suite at some hotel, and spend the weekend in the bathtub. Yeah, jacuzzi suites are a little more expensive but you don't drive too far and your entertainment for the weekend is the tub. You also have to really like who you go with or else watch a lot of TV.

BrontoRen also went on a huge shopping spree to get very grown-up, professional clothes. My favorite quote of the weekend? Walking to the mens section of the Gap and announcing "This is how you dress like a fashionable lesbian." The soccer moms were none too amused.

As we were leaving the mall, BrontoRen spotted a cell phone in the street. Instead of picking it up, she pointed it out to me to see what I would do. I picked it up, searched the contact list for "Mom" and called. Five minutes later, I met the owner of the cell phone at the food court. Part of me wanted to make it clear to her that the wonderful people who found her phone and were determined to get it back to her were lesbians so she would have a positive association instead of just stereotypes and rhetoric. But I didn't. And perhaps I was stereotyping by assuming that she and her boyfriend were not a fan of the gays and believed rhetoric. Oh well.

In the middle of the night last night, I was woken up by intense pain in my right arm. I moved my arm thinking that I was just sleeping on it weird and thought that would be the end of it, but I was wrong because it continued to wake me up all through out the night. I am still in a lot of pain now and I have no idea what is wrong with it. I might be going to the doc tomorrow.

BrontoRen and I finished (almost) our wedding registry. It was funny because as much as we try to say neither of us is the "man" the only way BrontoRen would engage in such a horrible activity was if she got to be in charge of the scanner...which was the exact same situation we saw every hetero couple having. All us non-scanner wielding people were busy with checklists and color coordination.

*****

Funny Conversations from Today:

While discussing making room in my car for my sister:

BJ: (motioning to the backseat full of junk) Do you think it will fit in the trunk?
BR: Charity? Yeah, I think so.
BJ: The junk in the backseat -- not my sister!

While discussing what to watch after we returned to V-Town.

BR: We have to watch The Deer Hunter. It's due back tomorrow.
BJ: I don't want to watch The Deer Hunter.
BR: It's not about hunting deer!
BJ: (Laughing) I am gonna put this in the blog.
BR: No, don't. It might be about hunting deer; I don't know.

*****

I applied for a job. I really want to get it. Wish me luck...

Aryan

2009-02-17T21:28:00.000-08:00

This is what happens when you read Playboy before you go to sleep.

2009-02-04T15:03:00.000-08:00

Last night, before bed, I read an interview with Hugh Hefner's sons (He has two, 17 and 18) and watched a new episode of "Girls Next Door". My dreams were highly affected by this.

I dreamt that I just discovered that the man I always thought was my father wasn't, but rather Hugh Hefner was. And I took to that right away. The mansion was filled with girls and no one knew who the chubby girl was, so I walked around saying to everyone who would listen "I'm Hef's daughter./I'm his daughter./He's my dad." I pretty much dropped that bomb whenever I could.

My sister and I went to talk to our new found father about his relationship with our mother and he said "Everyone who leaves this mansion has a better life after they leave -- everyone is improved." My sis and I freaked out saying "We grew up in a trailer and our mother married an abusive jerk." And he asked us how we thought he was supposed to know that so we accused him of being a terrible father. It was very much a Lifetime moment.

Later, after I told everyone at Pizza Hut that I was BrontoJem Hefner, I was lamenting that I didn't have a job for the fall. Hef made a few calls and guess who is now that new copy editor of Playboy Magazine? BrontoRen and I got in a huge fight because she didn't want to live at the mansion.

I was sick yesterday and today. Do you think that had anything to do with this dream?

Fairy Decap

2009-01-28T19:43:00.000-08:00

Conversation we just had:

2009-01-13T18:36:00.000-08:00

I am folding clothes on the couch while BrontoRen is sitting on the floor using her computer.

Me: (holding up a nice pajama shirt) Do you want me to fold this?
BR: No.
Me: You want me to put it on a hanger?
BR: No.
Me: So you want me to fold it?
BR: I thought the options were to fold it or wad it up.

I guess the laundry will be my job from now on.

Our house is clean...you should all come over and see it.

TALL AS YOU ARE TALL BETWEEN THEM

2009-01-11T22:41:00.000-08:00

This Christmas break I spent a lot of my time scanning photos at home. Unscanned photos make me nervous, because they might burst into flames, and I never save negatives. But now my computer is systematically shutting down due to a computer virus that plays Chinese music that can’t be shut off. The virus also brings up Chinese porn pop-up ads. All this from looking at Chinese university websites. I swear. So now those photos I scanned might disappear. I’m saving all of them to a flash drive in a way that is hard and time-consuming because that’s how the virus wants it. What comes after a flash drive?

I scanned a bunch of photos of my biological dad and I realized that at one time he was very fit, tan, and looked good in prescription sunglasses. Maybe I always knew this. As I looked at these pictures, my speculations about some aspects of his life that he never disclosed became clearer to me. I always think that if he wouldn’t have had two softball sized blood clots taken out of his brain, which resulted in brain damage, I would have said to him with my adult wisdom, “Hey, those things that you're ashamed of, I do those things too.” But he isn’t deceased, so it’s wrong to write about him like he is. But now his struggles are different, but still similar to some of mine because I caught him looking in the mirror and playing air guitar when he thought I wasn’t looking.

But now that his sister (legal guardian) has severe health problems, I wonder if he might live with me soon. I would like that, but I need a real house so he could have room to do his own thing. I’d have to buy a lot of Tabasco sauce. It would be a little strange having him around for long periods of time because we only spent time together in short bursts that involved hotels and amusement parks. I think I would try to recreate some of the time we spent together before his surgery. I’d give him Count Chocula and we’d watch King Kong. I’d give him raw potatoes to eat. We'd take the train to the west.

And just because he might not realize the significance doesn’t mean it wouldn't be there.

As I was looking at the photos, I found one that I’d like to include on the cover of my poetry book if I ever publish one. In this photo, my dad is crouched down on a rock in an awkward position. His bony arms and fingers are trying to communicate something he doesn’t want anyone to know. But he has so much room, and he’s so tall, and he didn’t have to pose behind the shadows. The two trees are confining him even though they never signed up to pretend to look so responsible.

The title of the book will be TALL AS YOU ARE TALL BETWEEN THEM, a line from a poem about a legless dancer who is the best dancer in the world. Dad’s still tall despite how he might look in that photographic instant. Or he’s tall for at least being honest enough to pose in a way that a body language specialist could rip apart.

There’s another picture taken seconds later. His leg is extended and I’d say he’s smaller there, even though he appears longer and more relaxed, because that’s how Buddy Holly would have posed, and Dad knew it.

Things I remember

2009-01-04T21:15:00.000-08:00

When I was little...

I stood on a rocking chair to get some ice. My mom startled me and I cracked my head open on the fridge. She took me into the bathroom while holding a rag on my wound. When she left to find a sitter for my sister in order to take me to the hospital, I immediately stopped crying, removed the rag, and checked to see if the blood was dying my hair red. It wasn't.

Sometime in early elementary, I wore religiously a New Kids on the Block sweater (yes, sweater) even though I had no idea who NKOTB were. I got it from my cousin who I idolized so I knew it was awesome, whatever it meant.

While practicing hoops with my uncle, I thought I discovered this super-secret, super-awesome way to get the ball in the basket almost every time. Then I went to basketball camp and was so shocked when the coach taught everyone my secret move without even learning it from me. I have since lost my passion for the game.

My love for butter started as a toddler when I would grab it off the counter at night and take it back to my bed to eat. The dog would finish it and, because of the teeth marks, I didn't get in trouble. After they put the butter in the fridge, they figured out it was me.

At a church potluck, some old woman brought tuna salad with a layer of red jello over it. I was skeptical but she told me to try it. When I did, and liked it, I felt extremely grown up. BrontoRen wrote a poem about it.

But nothing made me feel more grown up then when we would stay at grandma and grandpa's house and, if I got up early when grandma was getting ready for work, I got to use colored pencils. The little kids couldn't play with them because they would break them. To this day, I still think of colored pencils as a mature medium for serious artists.

Orbs & Things

2008-12-27T09:49:00.001-08:00

Sleeping Rubik's Mummy

2008-12-12T14:56:00.001-08:00

Microwave Poodle

2008-12-12T12:46:00.000-08:00

Heart-Shaped Steak Reflection in Microwave

2008-12-11T17:41:00.000-08:00

A Dream I Wrote Down That I Have No Memory of Now

2008-12-11T16:42:00.000-08:00

10/12/08

I drive through an oil storm. It gets more intense. I can only see through a small hole in windshield. I'm still driving blindly.

I make it to school. M is across the table from me. I find a KKK cookie. The last layer has an icing Bible. E comes up behind me and plays with my hair. She says, "I can't do this with my boys."

I go to a bar and talk to a bartender. He has long hair and glasses. I put two pennies down for gum. I replace it with two dimes and then add the two pennies.

I go to a table and take a hallucinogen. Nothing happens, but then I feel something come on, and I feel panicky because I don't know how long it will last and I can't go back. Everyone's faces are highlighted. I walk to the bathroom and my face changes and then disappears. I wonder if this means I'll die. I go to hallway. I look to the right and my head shrinks.

Everything is as clear as a movie. I'm aware of this and tell myself my dreams are never this clear. I'm a boy wearing a dress. I have a long wig like Norman Bates. I have a sword. A teacher runs out and catches me.

I'm back at school and the drugs have worn off, but every once in a while, the music I heard while taking drugs comes back and I have a flashback. Mom says she thought of me at 12:45, M at 12:15 (when I was high). I wonder if I should tell M about what I did. It felt like a dream, but I know it was real.

Once a semester breakdown

2008-12-10T11:27:00.001-08:00

So last week Friday, I had a break down in the English department. Luckily I was in BrontoRen's office but I forget that the building is set up so everyone can hear everything at any given time. This means that everyone heard me gasping to BrontoRen's office mate, JM, about how I wasn't going to graduate because I couldn't get signatures of the people on my committee.

Yes, I know how pathetic that sounds especially when one considers that I had not even tried to get signatures yet. It just seemed so overwhelming.

But that wasn't really my problem.

The problem was that it's the end of the semester and all the crap that goes with that -- grading, paper writing, the house that magically is messier at the end of the semster, not getting enough sleep, not knowing what is happening next semester, being scared of next semester, wondering how I am going to make money for the summer, wondering how I am going to make money for my wedding, wondering who will host our wedding, wondering why no one seems to care about the wedding, not doing very well in a 500 level sociology class, not taking time to destress, and wondering if people actually do manage to graduate or does the department just eat them?

Add needing to get signatures, and this camel just broke. So if you heard my rant, I am sorry and I am not stupid. Signatures just were my main focus at that moment. Next semester, I will try not to have my breakdown in an echo chamber.

Thanks for putting up with me folks -- you will be happy to know I got the signatures and will be out of here next semester. Woo hoo.

Jamie Livingston

2008-12-09T00:19:00.000-08:00

http://photooftheday.hughcrawford.com/

Reels of Past Dream Footage

2008-12-02T18:25:00.000-08:00

I had a dream I was reviewing reels of past dream footage in order to determine if my dreams are plagiarized.

Here's what the Doc Farber statue looks like on Wednesdays at 5:02 PM

Here I am surrounded by a bubble of unknown origin.

Get Over Here

2008-11-24T11:29:00.000-08:00

When I was a kid playing Mortal Kombat or Street Fighter II on Sega Genesis or Super Nintendo, I was one of those annoying people who would corner my opponent and use a cheap move like a low kick over and over again at an insanely fast speed. It wasn’t fair at all. I was so close to my opponent that he or she couldn’t move. My opponent would fall down only to get knocked over again. I hardly knew the moves that required multiple buttons and memorization. My technique worked, so I kept doing it.

I’m starting to see how this mindset is affecting my life.

Remember those scenes in the John Lennon and Yoko Ono Imagine era home videos where John and Yoko are eating chess pieces? I’m playing that game. I think. I’ve been the chess pieces already. No, I disembodiedly told John and Yoko to start rowing the boat and they actually listened. He yelled at my right eye. I blinked and made my iPod advance to the next track. It’s in the works.

Recently, on three separate occasions, I stood up for myself in a defiant, matter-of-fact way and I felt completely justified in my actions. That feeling that comes with it, is that what I’ve been missing?

I want the booklet of the camper who can’t speak, but who can point at the laminated pictures and words to communicate. He can’t let go once he has you. I’ll point at the Heimlich pictures. I’ll point at you.

In the Radiohead video “Just,” a man knows something that’s so horrible, he stops everything and lies down in the middle of a sidewalk. It’s so awful he can’t go on anymore. Everyone who finds out why he has given up then and there, also lie down. What do they know? Does it have to be negative? Can it be negative, but also positive because once everyone knows this secret they can start over and try not to make the same mistake again?

This video ends too quickly. There has to be someone who tells each one something else that makes them want to get up again. Or better yet, they all remember something really important that’s been methodically erased from their conscious minds. Or they remember the thing that’s been stolen from them or that they erased themselves, but they continue to lie down because it still makes the most sense. There’s something else, right? If there isn’t anything else, and they make the decision to let go of their egos, will something else emerge as a reward? Can they control that thing? Did they control that thing in the past, but get bored with the whole process? Are their lives the way it is because their former lives lacked any element of surprise?

Do other people get sick of their own blogs? Or of their own heads?

My Day Today

2008-11-21T17:49:00.000-08:00

My teaching was observed today. On Wednesday, I told my students that if they were prepared and acted like I was their favorite teacher ever, then I would bring candy sometime.

They acted the same as they always do. Class was still good, but no candy for them.

*****

I went to the clinic today. Something to note -- it is NOT a walk in clinic and if you have a problem that they could fix by just letting you pee in a cup, they still make you have an appointment. That was a little annoying.

When talking to the nurse, they always ask the same questions: Are you on birth control? (No) Are you sexually active? (Yes) Does your partner use condoms? (No) To avoid the lecture that comes after, I just tell them I am a lesbian. So this is what the nurse wrote on my chart:

lesbian -- homosexual

Here is a question: If I would not have mentioned that I was a lesbian, would he have written "heterosexual" on my chart? It just makes me wonder.

Also, has anyone ever said homosexual without it sounding like ho.mo.sexual? You know, that flat tone and over pronunciation people get when they are uncomfortable with gays? It makes me giggle. And I think saying homosexual is like saying "Neanderthal" -- it's old, technical, and out-dated.

*****

BrontoRen and I went to rent movies today and I was looking at the kid section just to see what they had. BrontoRen points to one of the DVD covers and says "Is that the kid you think is hot?" I knew what she meant, but she ended up making me sound like a pedophile, which is not my favorite way to come across. So I pretended I didn't know what the hell she was talking about and in her attempt to make me understand she just made me sound worse and worse.

It was one of my better moments.

I thought it was important to have these.

2008-11-17T16:27:00.000-08:00

Editorial Cartoons from Nov 5, 2008

Dice Car, Demon Dream

2008-11-16T19:45:00.000-08:00

In the new house where my mom remarried an ex-husband, I walk down a hallway where each door leads to another kitchen.

"What is and where will it go?"

The (agent of evil?) leaning against BrontoJem's car in front of the house replies, "The car is constructed out of pairs of dice. This way, the car will descend down and down."

Maybe her outfit is made out of fuzzy rearview mirror dice.

"What were you before? You haven't always been this," I say.

She stares at me for about ten seconds and then disappears.

What a Terrible Teacher I Am...

2008-11-13T22:50:00.000-08:00

Last week I canceled my once a week class in Sioux Falls to make my mother happy. She scheduled family photos (which we have never had before) for Friday and a storm was moving in on Thursday. Instead of waiting to leave for North Dakota after my class, I canceled class so I could get home for my mom. I reasoned this out with myself by saying that I will never, ever cancel class again and sometimes it is okay to choose family.

And then today happened.

I was driving down the Interstate on my way to class, singing at the top of my lungs along with my friends CD, and heard a strange noise. It seemed to be coming from my rear passenger side tire. I looked in my side view mirror just in time to see my tire roll across the Interstate. I immediately pulled over and burst into tears.

What else was I supposed to do?

Luckily we have Alltell Roadside assistance. I called them and through my tears I explained what happened. She kept asking if I needed the police and I kept saying I didn't know. I am not sure why I answered that way.

I talked to my mom while I was waiting for the tow truck and this is how that went.

Mom: BrontoJem? Are you okay?
BrontoJem:No.My-car-exploded-and-I-am-not-going-to-make-it-to-
class-and-I-canceled-last-week-and-now-they-are-not-going-to-let-
me-teach-next-semester-and-I-have-no-idea-what-I-am-going-to-
do-and-I-feel-terrible.
Mom: So you're not hurt?
BJ: No.

I handled the whole thing rather maturely, I thought.

Here is an interesting thing, the guy who towed my car and the people at the Ford place all said that they had never seen a car that had a tire blow like mine did. My hubcap and rim were still on my car. The tire was all in one strip; it didn't really explode, it more just fell off. It was crazy.

It is crazier to think about all the different ways I could have got hurt or ruined my car and didn't. What does that mean?

*****

And for all you Arrested Development fans out there, I took this picture as I left the Ford place.

2nd Modeling Poem for Artichoke Hearts Class

2008-10-27T11:16:00.000-07:00

The Day Princesses Di

It is 8:00 in North Dakota a Saturday
11 days after my sister’s birthday, yes
it is 1997 and she is eleven too
I am babysitting next door on Delta Dr.
I have already cooked them dinner
and I don’t know when the parents are getting home.

They walk up the driveway with the moon high behind them
and have their cake pan and coffee left and give
me forty dollars for too little work that I will spend on my family
at Roughrider pizza one of these days
I go on to my summer house
and my Aunt Carla (my mom’s only sister I have been told)
doesn’t even look up at me when I walk into the living room
and on the News Network I get a little information
for the silence that has wrecked my family although I do
think to say they act as if someone had died, or
that I have money to buy us all dinner tomorrow or
Tuesday but I don’t. I stick with the silence
after making a stand with such loud entrances

and for happiness I just walk to the downstairs
bedroom and ask my sister if she knows and
then I go back where I came from to the living room
and the silence because she is asleep in the bed and
casually sit down and ask why and my money burns
my skin and a broken limo with her face next to it

and I am shaking a lot by now and thinking of
sleeping in my own bed at 2 in the morning
while whispering to my other heroes
to wear their seatbelts and my breathing becomes shallow.

We are fighting for our right to party

2008-10-20T21:47:00.000-07:00

BrontoRen and I had a traumatic experience this weekend.

On Friday, we signed a contract and made a deposit on the place where we want to have our wedding reception. It is perfect because it is half way between our hometowns and it is smoke free and I have an extremely asthmatic uncle.

On Saturday morning, I got this phone call.

Mean Lady; Hello, is this BrontoJem?
BrontoJem: Yes it is.
ML: Were you sleeping?
BJ: No.
ML: Oh, I thought calling this early, I might wake you up.
BJ: No. I'm up.
ML: Do you know who this is? Mean Lady from That Nice Place.
BJ; Oh yeah.
ML: We can't host your event.
BJ: What? Why? Is there a reason?
ML: No...well, yes. I will have the credit card company reverse the charges.
BJ: What is the reason?
ML: I wish you two the best of luck.
BJ: Could you tell me the reason?
*click*

And without an explanation, she hung up on me.

We are currently having a lawyer look at our contract.

Since Saturday morning, I have had a constant stomachache (more than the one I always have from my medication). Gay, straight...isn't all money the same? I feel so disgusting. I can't even explain how I feel about this whole thing. It is just gross.

I know that there are a lot of other people who have to deal with this sort of thing every day. I know that I am lucky that I made it to 24 without this happening to me. I know that maybe I should just get over it. ...but then I think, is that what we are all doing? Do things like this happen to people like me, and people who have different skin color, and people with different religious beliefs because we all just suck it up? Maybe we should be screaming and shouting for each other so things like this can't happen. Maybe we shouldn't be quiet because when we tell ourselves that other people have it so much worse, we are allowing them to be treated worse because we refuse to do anything about it. Maybe we have to fight.

Actually, there is no "maybe" about it.

Why would his hand naturally be in that position?

2008-10-17T11:24:00.000-07:00

Does your hand randomly turn into devil horns if you are not a rockstar?

Now we humble Brontos are not saying that Bush is a satanist or that Free Masons are satanists. We are just saying "Well, ain't that interesting?"

FOUND Magazine #2

2008-10-03T08:49:00.000-07:00

Journal entry found in little kid's handwriting.

"I learned how to fly yesterday. The trick is to hurl yourself at the ground and miss. You need to get distracted while you are jumping. Then, naturally, you miss. Don't think about gravity! Eventually you will learn how to land, do tricks, etc."

Shit. I wonder if I ever knew how to fly.

BrontoRen does really bring out the best in me.

2008-09-28T21:42:00.000-07:00

I am in a poetry class this semester (shout out to Artichoke Heart!) and we are supposed to do a modeling poem. Well, poetry is not my strong suit. I have been stressing out about this poem because, as one of two grad students in the class, my poem has to be the best or second best, right? Okay, debate that as you will.

Anyway, some people think that having BrontoRen is an asset to my poetry writing but that is not true mostly because she thinks everything I write is great and that I am great. Which is nice, but not constructive. So after the revision workshop this weekend, I whipped out my poem and told her to revise the way a certain Sorcerer told us to. She was amazing. She asked me two things: why was the doctor pretty and what did the drawing look like? In the middle of answering that, I started using some war language and she said "Go with that." And I did.

Then, after the poem was written, I said mentioned I don't really get line breaks. BrontoRen's solution to this was to have me read my poem aloud from memory and she put the line breaks in where I naturally paused.

And holy shit folks, I wrote a good poem. Holy fucking shit.

*****

An Office Visit

The doctor’s hands were thick with veins
and long with fingers.
Hands that were the first to touch a life
and the last to end one.

I took comfort in that
as she showed me a blue
inked picture
of my insides –

a drawing of all of the planets everywhere
crashed into the sun
in a successful attempt to put it out.

A land of warmth and comfort
had slowly become a landmine
of ever growing rough terrain
that would never support life—

no refugees of this war would find solace here.

In this sterile office with its white walls
and its white sheet,
my life has been ravaged by war.

My family is all dead,
never given a chance,
and I am left here to crumble
under a force I can’t see
or name.

My enemy is stealthy
and attacks undetected
until it is too late,

while I cradle myself and weep
for those I never knew
I lost.

*****

I will be renting her out for a charge of $30 for the first hour and $20 for each additional hour. With BrontoRen's help, you too can become a poet.

The Same Thing We Do Every Night, Pinky . . .

2008-09-25T11:43:00.000-07:00

I’ve been talking to BrontoJem about this for about a year or more. This near economic collapse is not an accident. The Federal Reserve (an illegal organization due to the fact that Congress had full authority to create money, but it was given unconstitutionally to the FR, a private company) created this problem, partly, by printing money with no backup by gold or silver. It’s interesting to note that Kennedy signed a bill to have dollars backed up from silver to gold, gave a speech on how the United States needs to rid itself of politicians who are indebted to secret groups or organizations, and was assassinated soon afterwards. This Federal Reserve money has been printed in excess with only federal debt to cover it. With the national debt skyrocketing under the Bush administration, the dollar has been losing value at an alarming rate. The creation of Adjustable Rate Mortgages and subprime loans has only served to punish individuals and businesses by keeping them enslaved in debt with no hope of freeing themselves from rising interest rates and fees.

After McCain said he is going to “suspend” his campaign yesterday to try to figure out a solution to the economic problems (with full support of Bush), I can’t help but think that this economic problem was timed perfectly so that chaos would ensue and the presidential elections would be indefinitely postponed. In May 2007, Bush signed new legislation that would allow himself to take complete control over the government, bypassing all other levels of government in the event of a catastrophic event. It’s called the “The National Security and Homeland Security Presidential Directive” and it did not receive congressional approval, probably because the legislation that existed before, “The National Emergency Act” would allow Congress to take back the president’s power if he began acting in a way that they deemed unfit.

Also, under the guise of detaining potential homeland terrorist uprisings, detainment camps have been built in undisclosed locations all over the U.S. My mom called me last night because she heard on the news that Bush is sending troops home from Iraq so that they can serve as crowd control in the U.S. Bush can do this because in October 2006, he signed into law the “John Warner National Defense Authorization Act,” which removes laws that have been set in place for the past 200 years that limit the government’s ability to use the military as a policing tool. This law also enables Bush to declare martial law and use the military to monitor and police civilian actions. Here is a potential outline of what may be to come:

1) Catastrophic event
2) Bush declares martial law
3) Elections postponed
4) Bush becomes dictator
5) Dissenters are ruled as potential terrorists and placed in detainment camps
6) To solve the economic crisis, Bush creates a North American union (Canada, US, Mexico) and institutes the Amero to compete with the Euro.

The Amero discussions have been going on for a while now. Canadian citizens are against it, but the C.D. Howe Institute, an economic think-tank in Canada funded by large corporations, proposes a shared currency with Canada and the U.S. Mexico’s former president, Vicente Fox, spoke often about Canada, US, and Mexico working together towards shared goals and interests, including creating a monetary union.

This sounds like Pinky and the Brain type stuff, but it’s easy to see that something is amiss here. With the potential for a North American Union and currency to exist, I foresee steps being taken towards a one world government/one world currency with an elite ruling class with shared interests (secret society affiliations) exerting their power over the uninitiated. The European Union is already here with a common currency, the African Union is here with the hopes of creating an economic and monetary union soon, and the Asia Cooperation League is here, which many people view as a prototype for the Asian Union.

What I am good at..

2008-09-24T16:23:00.000-07:00

Some of you may have noticed that I am not very good at this whole graduate school thing. Don't get me wrong; I love teaching...I am just not very good at the classes I am taking. I don't write very good papers; at colloquiums, I usually don't understand what the people are talking about; I cannot remember the name of anyone we learned about in Lit Crit (although I do remember the drawing of Kurt Cobain's sweater and how many guitars my instructor owns); I don't even really like TESOL all that much. I am not a good grad student. (I am a good teacher -- do not get the two confused.)

Here is what I am good at:

At my undergrad, I spent less time focusing on classes than I did at attempting to save the world...and it worked sometimes. I organized a group of students who went to Pierre and lobbied to end the juvenile death penalty in SD which directly led to the abolishment of it in the whole country. I led various homelessness awareness activities that included sleeping in cardboard boxes, outside, in November while raising food for the local pantry. Almost every week, I would have a table in the commons asking students to sign petitions, write letters, send postcards, call senators, etc. I would spend hours trying to educate fellow students on issues like the death penalty, homosexuality and the church, the war, the food tax in SD...I was a one woman revolution. I was even the resident expert on the death penalty. I was asked to be on panels and I still have a crazy amount of facts about it memorized. (How many of you knew that?) It was amazing and I was in my prime. Yes, it was hard. My undergrad is one of the most conservative schools in SD, if not the country. The administration spent most of their time ignoring me, but also trying to keep me pacified when I wouldn't let them ignore me. I was so proud of myself and I had a purpose.

And now I am here. I love being here, I love being a teacher, I love this corner of SD. I love the liberalism, I love that my partner and I can hold hands when we walk down the street and even steal a kiss or two on the sidewalk or during previews at the movies.

But I hate that when I hear about how SD has no abortion clinics but they are trying to ban abortion again anyway, that I have no avenue to inform our population that this will only cost SD millions of dollars and eventually be defeated (I did volunteer for the campaign last time around, but I am having trouble finding out who is taking it up this time). When Bush decides that charging the tax payers $700 billion to help out private businesses is a good idea, I can't organize a massive letter writing campaign with volunteer cell phones with our Congress people on hold.

I am sure setting up a table in the TSC would be frowned upon by my superiors. And, as a teacher, I understand that I should not do this. Alienating my students who base who they are voting on by how cute the candidates children are is not my best plan of action.

So instead, I ignore my natural urges (as we all must at times, I suppose) and send my own letters, make my own calls, and send emails to my friends begging them to do the same.

And it makes me feel helpless. I don't want to be one of those bitchy people who talk about how our state, our country, our world is so screwed up but go home and do nothing about it. I want to do something.

So here is my question to you folks; What exactly do I get a doctorate in so I can do those things?

(I know this post is a little whiny and a little boastful. I needed to write it more for me then for you. I hope you forgive me.)

Watching Our Other Selves from Afar and Influencing Their Course of Action by Touching Each Other for the First Time Here

2008-09-23T19:59:00.000-07:00

There we are.

I dissolve my hands into a bucket for you until what’s left looks like pinchers.
You’re not alarmed.

You know the thick liquid is still connected to me and has feeling.
I didn’t even consider I would absorb the essence of the bucket.

The bucket’s been the witness to many murders.

It likes to be filled with skeptics and dismantled wallpaper pasting machines.
It wonders how it can make its surface feel like toast.

I can survive as long as the bucket isn’t moved too far from my body.
I can’t stop the bucket from being moved too far from my body.

You squat to hold me up.

The way your shirt wraps around you without any buttons
reminds me:

Are the crows taking away and returning your Aztec
thought-form for my benefit?

Those boots must be projecting you.

Two crickets are reproducing under the head of a non-resisting man.
He has an underage flapper girl tattooed onto his partially shaved head.

This excites you.

You bite the elastic band holding my face.
You draw me closer with your legs as if you don’t have fingers either.

My drippings are becoming tubers;
the framed baby wants to understand.

Any second now a tuber could be stolen and I’d die.

No one prepared me for what would happen when I stopped holding my knees, thinking:
Yes, yes
for you.

You’re also the little girl holding out her paper bag offering.

Everyone says no.

Your shadow reveals you’re holding nothing,
not even your arms.

I make the monk ask you:
Why don’t people tabulate every lack of profit so there is one?

Everyone else’s shadow is the suited man,
straddling the other suited man

who’s lying on top of a skeleton,
watching and wanting

your every move.

Something I just need to say

2008-09-18T11:08:00.000-07:00

When Christopher Columbus landed in South America, he thought he docked in India -- this is why he called the first people he saw "Indians" (or at least that is what I learned in 5th grade). Later, it was discovered that he did not actually dock in India but rather what would later be named South America. Hence the people needed to be called something else and it took/is taking our country too long to figure that out.

We do not call Native Americans Indian because that is taking one cultural identity from one group and thrusting it on another. And I haven't asked anyone lately, but I am sure that is not desired by either group.

And no, it is not okay to "call them whatever you want." Who cares if your cousin's brother's nephew's son is 1/4 Native American and he says he doesn't mind being called Indian? You still don't do it...especially if you are a teacher.

I have noticed that the only ones who say terminology doesn't matter are straight, white, anglo-saxon, protestant, males. Yeah, they are never going to be called that long list of powerful, offensive, painful terminology that huants most of the world.

Come on folks, we're English people -- we know how powerful words are.

Our Best Friend

2008-08-29T14:54:00.000-07:00

Kimba died today.

She was a beautiful, fun, and youthful dog until the very end. And she was loved.

When we got to the Vet (Dr. Dockter, that is his name, for real) we started crying immediatly. The woman behind the desk asked what we were doing today and all I could think of to say was "killing our dog" so I just didn't say anything. I let Mom handle that because Moms can do that sort of thing.

What I loved most about Kimba was that she always made us smile and laugh even at the end. We did with her what I hope people will do with me. When I die, I hope people get together and laugh about the crazy times, the fun times, and all the times I barked at turkeys. Kimba did that last one a lot.

We got her off a farm and she was a sheep dog so her natural instinct was to herd things. We didn't have much to herd in our trailor park, but we would catch her barking at the Canadian geese that would fly over head and attempt to get them in more of a circular, together sort of order.

In all honesty, she was my sister's dog. Cha was afraid of the dark and the crazies in our neighborhood and having a dog that was just as youthful and silly as her helped. We had an old Army sleeping bag that was eight feet long and swallowed up a third grader pretty well. Cha would get inside it and scream "Kimba, help" and Kimba would go nuts trying to figure out how to get Cha out of it.

She was really patient with Cha, more patient than I have ever been. Cha is and always has been an artist and often used Kimba as a canvas. Kimba probably spent a third of her life black, white, and green.

Kimba really fit in with us. She was one of the girls and would laugh when we did and cry when we did. She wasn't Lassie, but she was ours.

Fuck You, 2008

2008-08-27T12:49:00.000-07:00

The Dinos of Anarcia would like to officially declare that we hate the year 2008. Mostly because it hates us. We're not sure what tragedy or crisis is next after we put down my childhood dog this weekend, but I am willing to bet something is coming.

We are putting a lot of faith in January 09 to turn things around.

*****

I was gone from my apartment for almost the entire month of August and I had a fish and a frog that I worried about. My hope was that my frog could survive by eating my fish. When I got home, I had a fish and not even a body of a frog. Upon further examination of the tank, I discovered tiny pieces of bone in one corner. I am freakin' scared of my fish. And named her Carrie because she could go ape shit at the prom if I am not nice to her.

*****

Here are some fun conversations BrontoRen and I have had recently.

(Reading a shampoo bottle)
BJ: "Nurishes as well as Biolage." What does Biolage mean?
BR: Umm...it's a type of shampoo.

BJ: I used my sexy voice. Could you tell?
BR: Oh, I thought you were confused.

(While talking about gym classes we have taken.)
BR: I took Weightlifting and Racquetball.
BJ: I took Pickleball and Bowling.
BR: I meant I took that in college.
BJ: So did I.

*****

BrontoRen and I have been checking out the movie scene in good ol' V-town. We saw Tropic Thunder and House Bunny. Tropic Thunder was good -- but we all knew it would be. House Bunny on the other hand, I made BrontoRen go to and she is cool enough to know it was a bad movie. However, there was one part in it that made me laugh harder than I think I have ever laughed at any movie. But the reason I wanted to see it was because the Girl's Next Door were in it. I am happy to say that Holly is obviously the best actress which is good because she is my favorite. I have a huge crush on her. But not a sexual crush -- I have spent a lot of time thinking about this. Rather,(not including sleeping with 80 year old men) I just want to be exactly like her.

Which is weird and not what I expected from myself. Sorry if I shocked you all.

Cone Tag with a Minotaur

2008-07-31T23:53:00.001-07:00

I left early with the intention of asking Job not to offer up a burnt offering for each of his children, but I only rode by on the donkey that speaks with human words through God’s permission. All that anticipation and he only told Job: The Gestapo and KGB have caught the public’s imagination. Where do I stand on needless death? The erotic female deity admonished me earlier this morning and I told her I want more death if the way her admonishment makes me feel is anything like death. I always want to move blood and chi through my liver when I’m upset by my decisions. If things go too far, there’s a law that would allow me to run to a certain city for a trial without being killed in a revenge attack. I’ve been trained yearly never to have bedroom democracy in the classroom; I’ve been so conscientious, but my friends refuse to look at me anymore. The sides of their faces remind me of when I wept after receiving the letter that stipulated the level of contact I can have with my children. I try to behave normally in public, but I just passed a wine glass to the bartender holding a stack of beer glasses past his head. He looks like my child. I’m worried about where my mental level of life is taking me. A friend said all this time I may have been trying to make my lover my shiatsu partner. I love and take care of them both separately and differently, but everyone has their own theories in malls. When things couldn't get worse, I received a separate justice system for the 181 degree triangle planted in my jacket, and I wept again. I've been praying for a Body of Beatitude without self-addiction please. Once, I played cone tag with a Minotaur, alone and with an activist punk marching band, nothing sexual.

The Woes of the Working World

2008-07-27T09:47:00.000-07:00

This week is my last week at my job.

And I am so happy.

Folks, I have a confession. I am not made to work at a desk job. I just can't handle it. I don't understand having to ask for days off all the time like you are not an adult who understands commitment and responsibilities. I hate working 8 hours straight and being told when I can take lunch and my breaks. But mostly I hate work that is so insulting because it never requires you to think or have any form of self-respect.

But the people are fun and I will be a little sad to never see them again.

This is really embarrassing, but I think I got tendinitis from my job. One day they made me go through envelopes that had already been emptied just to make sure that no one missed any paper. One of my co-workers told me to hold the envelopes up to the light instead of opening each one. Seeing as how long they have been working their and how young I am, I usually just do what they tell me because it makes things easier. Well, after 8 straight hours of grabbing an envelope and then holding it to the light, I was moving my arm in the exact same way about once a second. My elbow felt like it was in knots by the time I was done. I hurt myself working at a desk job looking through the garbage. What a loser, huh?

I love being a teacher, though.

Fun Facts Explosion

2008-06-21T19:18:00.001-07:00

Lady Bugs are carnivores.

Monarch Butterflies are poisonous because they lay their eggs on a plant called Butterfly Weed. The plant is poisonous so when the caterpillars hatch, they eat the poisonous plant and become toxic themselves. This causes birds who eat them to vomit.

Some moths don't have mouths and only eat when they are caterpillars.

Some moths can survive with their heads removed for the sole purpose of reproduction.

Moths don't actually eat your clothes; they lay eggs on your clothes and the caterpillars that hatch eat the clothes.

Spraying insecticide inevitably leads to more bugs then there originally was.

Ringo Starr said, when the Beatles were just starting, that he was only going to be in the band until he could save enough money to open a hair salon.

The song "Yesterday" by Paul McCartney was tentatively titled "Scrambled Eggs."

90% of deaf people marry other deaf people. Of the 10% that don't, 90% of those marriages end in divorce.

I learn so much by reading!

******************

Happy birthday Life is Good spouse! Hope your party was tons of fun.

(I bet Bridge knows all of these facts, even the ones about the Beatles.)

Memo to Old King Cole

2008-06-19T11:51:00.000-07:00

Seeing as you are on the other side of the kingdom and too busy with your fiddlers to pay any attention to me, I am writing to remind you of the code of conduct agreement set in place by the royal court regarding the three fiddlers and the king. According to statute 57, the king is not to spend more than an hour a day with the three fiddlers. Also, the king is prohibited from openly using any drug paraphernalia while in royal attire. Clearly, you are breaking both rules. Additionally, Fiddler #2 came to me for counseling regarding some unwanted personal attention he received from you during one of your bizarre all night raves. Please do not make the assumption that I am ignorant of what goes on in this castle.

-Queen

Sacked

2008-06-18T13:20:00.000-07:00

Found Poem based on D's short story “Imopposumable”
Collaboration with C and P

Doing laundry, my husband thought it might be from a rat. How to get it with this seemingly long silver rod with a loop at the end of it? We decided to give it a try. It was ambling across our cats. I lay down on the living room floor to keep watch. There is a family of them! My husband would pay any amount to escape injury. They had built the house on top of the old cistern but found no answers. He yelled at me. I was perched on the living room table with my feet under my body. I no more got my mouth open when something crawled out of it. My head bobbed up and down like a Car Pet in the back window. Lonnie left, sack hanging at his side. I was safe because she didn’t see any of my limbs hanging. She was okay, and warmed up to me quickly when I stopped choking her. She had sacks of milk and had been feeding babies. They rate right up there dead on the highway. I will die happy.

Be scientific, douchebag.

2008-06-15T11:16:00.000-07:00

BrontoRen, my lil'sis, my lil'sis's friend, and I all went to "The Happening" last night.

I liked it because I like the point that M. Night was making. BrontoRen didn't like it for what she calls "various reasons" one being the movie could have been condensed to 15 minutes...which is true. I can't remember what my lil'sis or her friend thought.

However, something both us Brontos appreciated was John Leguizamo.

Subtract the little girl (who only had one line, thankfully) and Mark Wahlberg (BrontoRen just informed me he was not in the NKOTB) and doesn't Mr. Leguizamo look a hell of a lot like a certain Canadian most of us know?

And then I spent the rest of the movie thinking about how cute my Canadian friend is and how much I miss him.

But don't tell him that because I don't want him to know I like him.

*****

A Conversation you could have if you were a Bronto:

BR: So I am attracted to Kate Winslet, Gillian Anderson, the woman who played Darleen on Rosanne, Zooey Deschanel...what do all these women have in common? There has to be some common thread...
BJ: They're all pale.
BR: That's why I think you're so hot when you're sick!
BJ; And that explains why you don't think Callie is hot. She has dark skin.
BR: I am not racist!

(After BrontoRen knew I was putting this on here, she said "You can't put that up. I sound racist. Only racist people say they aren't racist.")

Less Sucky?

2008-06-13T21:44:00.000-07:00

So my job did not suck today. Want to know why? I discovered that I can listen to books on tape (or CD rather) while doing my work. Eight hours have never flown by so fast.

At work today, I learned about the Masons and their conspiracies.

Maybe this job will be worth it.

Although I haven't got a response from my boss yet.

And the boss in my office refuses to look at me and everyone asked if I was coming back on Monday. What does that mean?

Serving my Corporate Masters

2008-06-11T16:53:00.000-07:00

If you walked by my house this morning at a quarter to six, you would have noticed my car was missing. Is it because I am out of town? No. Is it because I stayed out so late that morning came before I got home? No.

I have a job. A real job. A stupid 7-3:30, M-F real job.

And it sucks.

Oh, and it is also in Sioux Falls which makes my wake up time 5 a.m. Ick.

I stare at papers all day and put them in neat piles. I don't do anything with the papers except try and make them lay straight (some have been folded) and take out staples if there are any.

That is what I do all day, everday.

So to entertain myself, I write a blog in my head to all of you.

I don't talk to anyone and I don't sit with anyone for lunch so instead I play back episodes of The Office in my head and try to send psychic messages to BrontoRen.

Here is the strange part: I was hired by a temp agency and they told me that I was going to be doing data entry. My hiring handbook says that I should contact the temp agency immediatly if I am not doing the job the agency told me I would be doing. I did so because I am not doing anything like data entry. My contact at the temp agency, who has a fantastic reputation for answering her emails quickly, has not replied in two days.

This smells fishy.

And I figured out that with gas this job is not worth it. Hmmm...when can I quit? I have had the job for three days.

These blog posts are way better when I write them in my head at work.

Here is a question for you readers:

If you had someone's credit card, with no reprecussions and a $60,000 credit limit, what would you do?

Probably not spend a few thousand dollars at K-mart, right?

P.S. I am watching an episode of "Charmed" and Rainn Wilson (Dwight on "The Office) is an alchemist. It is crazy.

tinker bell puts up with it, in her own way

2008-06-05T15:22:00.000-07:00

I recently discovered that if I think of an image while in a meditative state, the image will change into all sorts of things if I just let it. I started with visualizing a can opener and then it kept morphing. (AMBULATORY was a voice that entered my mind as I did this.) I typed these words with my eyes closed.

Can opener, snake, stethoscope, cobra hood, Stetson hat, fish inside fish, arrow pointing left, spear pointing up, snake in bird, comb cutting up tail, jack hammer splitting the part of a spider, top teeth, suction cups grabbing toast, magnet ends, electric, flying through the floor of x, octopus, Pac Man on tricycle, ice cream parlor stools, badminton flagellating, taco eyelash, tip hat, razor fence forward and above, alligator soda bottle inside, ski submersion, mouse train sex, diamond on tongue disappear, presidential bird, phonograph machine out ear, egg grip baby carriage, nail in wolf, high heel, electric rat, adobe prison, hand vac, tongs, Darth Vader, AMBULATORY, dog kiss, triangle tips of light between, curved triangle hand, sideways cow.

RV bed on pin, suck through birds beak, heated eggs, pop out whale, swim toy beating, fork, horns, wizard outstretch, dog on eye warped through camera, reeling incite, weaving over elephant trunk, holding microphone, snake, then shell, off ledge up hill, boat peeing, tyranno legs arms running out of boat making it himself, cloud above head, wavy lines, rattle tale, army canteen, heart, cobra, zipping off skin, breaking off, another inside, head at both ends, wind up back, human fingers, big, pulling up, tinker bell puts up with it, in her own way.

Closing Ceremony for 1984 Olympics, Alien-Themed

2008-05-29T19:38:00.000-07:00

If you refuse to use your brain, does it rot away?

2008-05-20T17:02:00.000-07:00

So I get emails from Jerry Falwell Jr. The emails are crazy and have no point except for propaganda and they make me laugh...or else scare me. Either way, it is bound to be an interesting read. The newest edition was some blabber about being anti-choice but it had a link to a website called RockforLife. As the name would suggest, it is a music/anti-choice website.

Here is a wonderful excerpt from its "Dark Side" section.

"One phrase they [Planned Parenthood] use over and over again is "safe sex." The only safe sex is between married couples who don't use birth control. There is no such thing as safe sex for single people. All the condoms and pills in the world can't protect you from STD's, AIDS, and pregnancy. That's a FACT! And, there is absolutely nothing that can protect you from the spiritual and emotional pain that comes with sex before marriage. Planned Parenthood wants us to believe that sex can be safe outside of marriage because they cash in millions selling birth control and abortion to us."

Today I informed BrontoRen that what we thought were orgasms was actually spiritual and emotional pain. And I tell you what, I am a sucker for pain.

The website also lists Musicians that are pro-choice and those that are anti-choice. The anti-choice list has only a handfull of people I recognize, and all except one is because I listened to Christian music when I was in high school. The one? MC Hammer. Woohoo!

Can't touch this.

"Mario & Zelda Big Band Live" Legend of Zelda Medley

2008-05-14T23:36:00.000-07:00

Zealously Zany Individuals

2008-05-13T21:52:00.000-07:00

Did you know that is our first blog post that starts with Z? I am zerious.

Here is a chicken or the egg question for you. Did I start saying "seriously" so much because I watch Grey's Anatomy, or do I watch Grey's Anatomy because I say "seriously" so much? Ah, a question for the cosmos.

Speaking of Grey's Anatomy...Callie might a lesbian! Woohoo! She is hanging out with Erica Hane who is a lesbian and Addison asked if they were a couple. Callie laughed too long and hard at her. Seems a little suspicious...

BrontoRen and I had a great day today. I had a doctor's appointment in S.F. that went well. When they weighed me I found out I lost 15lbs. I am awesome. I am mostly losing that because my medicine makes me so sick I don't want to eat. I told my doctor that and she upped my dose. More weight loss, here I come.

We did some shopping that needed to get done and then we went to Taste of India. (Lately, BrontoRen has become obsessed with India and wants to go there. I told her I am pretty sure our kind is not received well there.) A big 'ol van shows up at the restaurant and who should get out of it but my kid sister! It was crazy.

She is going to Africa on Thursday. I am so proud of her. To be honest, I wasn't sure she was going to make it. I love that she gets her adventure. At the restaurant I felt like I should give her something to take with her -- some good luck charm or keep-her-safe medallion. But I didn't have anything. I suck at being a big sister.

Oh, Cha, you could get me a bracelet. You know the kind I like -- wood or leather. That would be awesome.

Well, this blog wasn't exactly zany or zealous but at least I wrote something. It has been too long.

Rat or Salamander?

2008-04-24T17:45:00.000-07:00

I showed the movie, 1984 to my Intro to Lit class. The DVD is impossible to get because it is out of print in the United States and the only copies available are regional discs. In the end, I showed a VHS copy of 1984 made in 1984 shown on an RCA TV also made in 1984.

I was debating about what kind of snack to give my students during their viewing experience. I knew it had to be 1984 themed, so I considered three options.

1) Cupcakes with an icing design of an ankle with a varicose ulcer above it.

2) A sheet cake with an icing Junior Anti-Sex League sash draped across it.

3) Cupcakes with an icing design of rats in a cage.

I went with #3, but I could only fit one rat per cupcake. No cage.

Watch Out World, Here I Come

2008-04-22T20:57:00.000-07:00

So the world has gone mad.

I have written a poem a day for the last four days.

And they all. have been. good.

I know, right? It's crazy.

BrontoRen and I joke that my poetry career is going to sky rocket and she will be the one home cooking, cleaning, and taking care of babies while I am touring the country doing readings and being impressive.

*****

Hey folks, can I ask you a personal question?

If you were my ex, would you think I have done well for myself since we broke up and be a little jealous?

One of my ex's is doing some awesome things and I am really happy for him but I still want to make sure I am more impressive.

Come on, folks. We all want that same thing.

*****

Fun Conversation:

Me: Hey, can I write about how you said if you ever become uninterested in sex, I can have sex with other people?
BR: I never said that.
Me: Yes you did. You said I could if it was just about sex.
BR: I don't know what you think you heard but I never said that.

We are currently having a bit of a problem.

BrontoRen's medication comes with a horrible side effect -- low sex drive.

My medication comes with a great side effect -- high sex drive.

(I might have made that last part up.)

The Strawberry(s) That Was/Were Spared

2008-04-12T21:35:00.000-07:00

Elephant Paints Self Portrait

2008-04-06T22:35:00.001-07:00

1994

2008-04-01T16:35:00.000-07:00

So things are crazy right now. They’re really crazy. 8th House, what’s the astrological dealio?

But for some reason, I’ve been finding some comfort in watching YouTube videos of Woodstock 1994. I didn’t even realize that I liked Woodstock 1994 all that much until I stumbled across it while searching for videos of Shannon Hoon of Blind Melon.

This video is particularly comforting:

And this one:

And then I thought about the MTVJ, Kennedy, and how I know I’m not supposed to like her, but I do. And I kind of miss her now.

What was I doing in 1994? This is important because I think my newfound appreciation for Woodstock 1994 is all about missing that period in my life and the ‘90s in general.

In early 1994 I was 12 (I turned 13 in March) and in the 7th grade. It was my second year of playing soccer for the town youth league and sometimes my mom and future step dad would show up to practices and sit in lawn chairs and make-out in front of everyone. There were usually no other parents around.

I really liked art class and I made a giant colored pencil drawing of this Bone cover for extra credit.

I told my brother that my teacher was a republican so my brother took my giant art folder that I made by hand and wrote “Rush Sucks” all over it (we lived in Cape Girardeau, MO, the hometown of Rush Limbaugh), but he only did it in the same color as the color of the block letters of my name, so it was hard to detect. I discovered it as my mom was giving me a ride to school.

I briefly became a Jehovah’s Witness after my mom decided to let two female Jehovah’s Witnesses lead a bible study at our house every week. My devotion to the group was thwarted by my mom because she bought a book on cults and found out that the religion was shady and was started as a way for the founder to make some money besides selling wheat packets. Or something like that. I freaked out and wrote her a letter letting her know I planned to put God (Jehovah) over family and she couldn’t stop me. Basically, I planned to drive myself to the Kingdom Hall when I turned 16 and spend all my time there. A week later I read the cult book and decided that being a J.W. wasn’t for me after all.

My brother couldn’t watch TV while my mom and I were having our J.W. meetings in the living room, so now whenever he comes across a Seinfeld episode in syndication that he originally missed due to our meetings, he calls it a Jehovah’s Witness episode.

In fall of 1994 I was in the 8th grade and playing basketball for the school team. I had a uniform from the 70s that had yellow stains all over it. I scored a lot of points and was not yet emotionally traumatized by sports politics and militaristic coaching styles. A year or maybe years later, my 8th grade coach came up to me while I was sitting in the car with my mom. She said, “I just can’t figure you out. What’s wrong with you? What goes on inside of your head? Are you scared of something?”

My best friend was Steve and we would play basketball all the time. I spent so much time over at his house that one time his step mom slammed down a package of toilet paper onto the kitchen counter because she was so fed up with it. (She was unloading groceries.) Kids would harass us because they thought we were dating. We played hours of Mortal Kombat on Sega Genesis at my home while we listened to “I Hate Myself and Want to Die” by Nirvana from the Beavis and Butt-Head Experience album. When it was announced on the news that Kurt Cobain committed suicide, he immediately called me.

A year later I would officially come down with the lesbianicness and my dad would be found passed out and bleeding from his ear in a Denver gutter due to two giant blood clots on his brain. I had the worst school picture of my life that year. It looks like I put a giant (brown) onion skin on the top of my head and dangled two (brown) Brillo pads from my ears. But none of that seemed too bad at the time or now. It was the 90s, after all.

What were you doing in 1994?

Supper with Bridge

2008-03-30T19:07:00.000-07:00

Bridge took BrontoRen and me out for supper tonight because she loves us. We enjoyed ourselves and would have went even if she didn't pay because we love her too.

It was a lot of fun talking about just silly things like classes and spring break.

A man came to our table and sat down. He said "This might be a little strange but one of my friends likes you." I just stared at him and said "Who are you talking to?" The guy came to sit down at a table full of beautiful women, said something like that, and didn't clarify -- it was a legitimate question.

Turned out he was talking to me.

Things that went through my head:
-- What?
-- I'm a lesbian.
-- Please just leave.
-- I am engaged.
-- Oh, I can tell him that last thing.

"Sorry, but I'm engaged."

"Well, one of my friends was just interested. I won't tell you which one."

He left the table after a bit of awkward bantaring and went to sit down with his friends. Rule #1 if you don't want the girl to know which friend: when you sit down, don't lean into that one friend and say loud enough to hear "She's engaged."

We thought we were done with him until he came back and asked if he could sit with us becase his friends kicked him out. I asked him why his friends kicked him out and he said he didn't know. I told him we were boring and he said he likes boring. So then I told him we were having a girl party. He asked if he could hang out with me after the girl party. I was going to come up with an excuse and then I just said no. He asked why. I really wanted to say "I don't need an excuse. I don't want to hang out with you and that is that," but then I said "I don't think my fiance would like it."

He then proceded to have the exact same conversation with Bridge.

The entire time he was talking to us his friends kept looking over at us and laughing. For any gentlemen who read this, let me tell you something. This is NOT the way to pick up a woman. The best way is if you see some guy doing this and then coming over to get him away from the girls. They will then see you as a hero and a nice guy other than annoying and unable to take a hint.

Also, if a group of women tells you they are having a "Girl Party" or a "Vagina Party" that means leave. If you had any chance with them or if they were looking for guys to talk to, they would never say that.

And ladies, if this happens when we are out together, when the guy asks my name I will lie. Every time.

Thanks Becky. BrontoRen and Rachel love you so much!

The Janitor Waits with Cedar Shavings In Case I Can’t Find Red Trash

2008-03-28T21:24:00.000-07:00

The war
and the way it was in which Anna Nicole Smith’s very
psyche was forcibly splintered by handlers,
but further still,
there were thousands of some of her
picked day to day.
My grandma straps one of me
and closes her eyes to the side.

She must also believe the dipping
ear piece of her glasses
houses a tire swing.

My chin is wet.

The neuro-most doctor says:
Is it more like a whoosh-whoosh?
She directs me towards her hand.

As it were, I grab her
as a satellite television device
would skip commercials,
but still the more,
the more notches of the built-in
cameras and thumb imprint
scanning of remotes

bring us to the very point of
what I whisper:
personalized commercials.

I touch you.
I touch the halved tennis ball wheels.

I’ll buy the car
straight from its crash into the incline of the mailman’s
pipe flying into a rosebud.
I am a witness.

At lunch, the classmate eats bottomforth
to the tuna and Jell-O casserole
and feels like an adult.

I find red trash in the trashcan.

Every Power Vested

2008-03-26T15:20:00.000-07:00

It started out like that, dialing 911 at the hotel every time I left to go to the bathroom. My stomach was free of stretch marks then, buoyant and leavened, almost shaken, a poncho tied as was the style with a hat on top. I hate my face etched on the mug.

You like that something is wrong.

I practice telling you about the cricket kneeling for his W-2 form cut-out jacket, the honor society forms placed and telling of staple guns, and the MRI armor suit all in the woods outside your house with the telephone cable spool for a table. I threw the boy band pin out there. Baby ticks circled my ears and I had an excuse to be touched.

I make you walk in love with the boy because you will anyway. You’re both on a couch with the armrest full of grease spots of anti-balding cream. Only I know the couch used to belong to my grandpa. I laugh about what you can't be thinking. The boy is even more angular than you ever imagined, a Rubik’s snake blinking like Peter Gabriel. You’re the blue side.

It feels right sitting elsewhere by the pulled shade, waiting for a job that rewards me with sashes and badges for shaving my eyebrows.

I watch with every power vested.

Karaoke Super Stars

2008-03-22T07:29:00.000-07:00

We are chillin' at my mamma's for spring break 2008 and participating in a few "Girls with Low Self-Esteem" videos.

My cousin has a Karaoke machine and we have been jamming out to Billy Joel. Here is the cutest thing in the world: BrontoRen doesn't know the tune but she sings her heart out anyway. But seriously, you should hear her sing "We Didn't Start the Fire." No one yells out "sex" better than that girl.

Today my mom couldn't leave the house because there were 8 turkeys in our yard. I miss home.

BrontoRen's identitiy was stolen. I asked her if I slept with the guy who stole her identity would that still be considered cheating. She said yes.

We took BrontoRen to Paradiso for her birthday. The food is awful but "the chips are free, dinner's extra" unless it's your birthday and then you get your crappy food for free! How could we pass that up?

We are having a real party today for her. My mom is making her a carrot cake. Yum. I didn't even know my mom knew how to make carrot cake.

I bought a wedding dress. I bought a wedding dress. I bought a wedding dress. Maybe that reads better if you know the tune it goes with. Anyway, it is beautiful.

I got mine in truffle and white instead of champagne and white. BrontoRen knows what it looks like because I can't keep anything a secret and we figure she hasn't seen it on me and that's what's important, right?

There are five people currently in my house and four of us were supposed to be at church 15 minutes ago. At the moment, I am the only one awake.

Peace out.

Day One after Accusing the School Newspaper of Censorship

2008-03-08T21:05:00.000-08:00

In the x-ray tube, no blankets and crossed
legs; furthermore, sounds: horror violin.
Nothing, what, like jack hammers, as promised.
Long into tests of E, beyond right, my
straight ahead is left shoulder. Text message
completion makes these words wrong and courtly?
In this labyrinth of conventional myth
and language, where are you? is how I meant
to critique the grandma who let newborns
hear she broke promises of keeping six
needles six times out of her eyes. My nerves
where they are optic, are hoped and dyed—-what
I imagine as grapes in mashing scenes
cut from Steamboat Willie. Whistling. Still grey.

Baby!

2008-03-06T02:15:00.000-08:00

8th House's water broke! We're at her house. Sammy gets the yellow spoon. Petey gets the white one.

But I Have a Clean Hand

2008-02-28T12:26:00.000-08:00

Tequila, but even so, it was clean
in a way that reveals what needs to be.
The bottom half of the other side’s dash
of half a cup of pre-rinse; there, my hand
as strong as a tripod, there, all the same,
pre-made before I made it clean, my own.
I didn’t stretch the atmosphere like he,
to shoot a rocket at a satellite
so forgive my dancing. If you don’t leave,
the plane will take someone else’s regret,
Casablancaed for the rest of your life
soon, so why should I be ashamed down here
on the ground, mostly walking, but foolish
in a way that can only be called dancing?

Miis

2008-02-23T18:49:00.000-08:00

Now that the pesky PhD exam is over, it's time to display my collection of Wii Miis.

Dinos

Immediate Family

Love Birds

Emo Transformation of My Cousin

Lu and B

Kurt Cobain

Allen Ginsberg

Poision Stream AKA Narrative Feed

ENG FAC - BEFORE

ENG FAC - AFTER

MISCELLANEOUS ENG FAC

CANADIAN

Eat your heart out, Rachel Ray.

2008-02-23T08:33:00.000-08:00

So one of my favorite things to do for BrontoRen is pretend I can cook. To help with this fantasy, I add another fantasy on top of it -- that I have my own cooking show. (Apparently a lot of people do this.)

My show is called "Whatever, do what you want" which means people do not have to listen to me and how I tell them to cook.

On this morning's episode, I made turkey bacon and scrambled eggs with spinach and mozzarella cheese. This is a result of my new low-carb lifestyle.

Here are a few excerpts from the dialouge of my show:

"My producer just informed me I have to tell you that, although I do touch the bacon with my fingers while it is in the skillet, this show does not condone that nor do I encourage you to do so."

"Okay, so sprinkle in some mozzarella, oh, I mean Mawhzzarella. That's how you know I am real cook because I pronounce the names of cheeses weird. Tomorrow, I will make something with cheddair."

"I don't really know how much to put in because I have never made this before but I think this is good. Okay, maybe just one more sprinkle...and just a pinch more. It really depends on your taste."

"Could someone get on the phone with Oscar Meyer and see if you can eat Turkey Bacon raw? It seems like you should be able to."

"Now I am boiling water for tea because that is BronotRen's favorite drink and, let's face it, everything I do is for BrontoRen."

If anyone wants to come over and see a live taping of my show, come on over tonight when I make steak and California blend vegetables.

BronotRen is taking her first exam today. I hardly slept at all last night. I am a nervous wreck...and a loser.

It's like puberty all over again.

2008-02-21T18:22:00.000-08:00

*Warning: Explicit girl talk ahead*

Today I went to the doctor for that problem I have been having with the invisible/non-existent period and I learned a lot of interesting things.

First we will start with the bad things:

1. I have polycystic ovaries.
2. It will be super hard to get pregnant.
3. My metabolism is so low that it is almost non-existant.
4. I have a thick layer of Estrogen covering the inner lining of my uterus that could turn into cancer if I don't get rid of it.
5. My body might never instigate periods on its own.
6. I have to go on a low carb diet.

Now for the good things:

1. I am not going to die.
2. I do not have cancer nor should I develop it.
3. I have pills that will make me have a period so I can plan it.
4. Having my period will get rid of the Estrogen lining.
5. Once I start behaving like a normal woman again, I will actually lose weight instead of grow into that person you hear about on the news -- the one who is so big her flesh has actually grown to the fibers of the couch because she has not moved in so long. Seriously, I saw her coming.
6. Invetro Fertilzation means I could have twins or more! (And I always have a back-up uterus if necessary.)
7. I will go back to regular PMS instead of crazy BrontoJem who thinks no one wants to be her friend and crys/laughs/yells/coos all at the same time at BrontoRen when she can't find her shoes.

*****

Conversation BrontoRen and I had today:

BJ: Do you remember those Jock Jams?
BR: Yeah, the basketball team had one.
BJ: Didn't every sports team? What songs were on there?
BR(singing): Whoop there it is. Whoop there it is. (Stops singing) Or hoop. Aresenial Hall said there were two versions. I am trying to remember how the rest of it goes...(starts rapping) I'm an old fool who's old school. That's so cool.
BJ: *blink* *blink*
BR: I actually bought that CD.

*****

Since I told my mom about my doctor's appointment I have been on the phone with all the women in my family at least twice each. At least now they know why I have been gaining weight like a pregnant seacow and will stop comparing me to my sister who is losing weight like it is going out of style.

Don't worry Sis, your secret to weight loss is safe with me.

Albuquerque in Pictures

2008-02-19T19:01:00.000-08:00

We drove to NM and here is a lovely sign we saw in Nebraska.

Um...I think God means we shouldn't beat our kids, cause, I mean, God gave us arms to do with what we will, right? So technically....

*****

We saw this one on the Interstate in Colorado.

(WARNING: Stay Back. Not responsible for broken windshields.)

Things we love about Colorado:
1. Teenage mothers who are better moms then their own moms.
2. Towns that smell like corn/dog food.
3. Women who won't help you when they realize you are two women sleeping in the same bed.

*****
Road trips are long so I made BrontoRen stop at KMart to get markers and a coloring book. That's right, it's My Little Ponies. What?

*****
We stayed on the seventh floor of a beautiful hotel. Please note the glass elevators and seating area. The seating area was for the breakfast buffett and cocktail hour that was complimentary with our stay.

The second floor had a spa where BronotRen got me a full body massage for a present on Valentines Day. #1 sentence I never thought I would say to my mom: I was going to call you but then I realized I was late for my massage.

*****

Pesentation Day

There are pictures of me presenting but I look awful because I successfully managed to get the flu while in NM. It kicked in on V-Day and BronotRen had so many wonderful plans that I faked feeling great. Looking back now, she says there were signs.

BrontoRen won the Creative Writing award AGAIN (that's two years in a row). She is so amazing. When she read, the only questions after her panel were for her because her poetry was the only good stuff that was read. It's true but she won't tell you that.

*****
The Melting Pot -- a great restaurant that I wanted to go back to. Here are a bunch of pictures from our time there.

*****
Friday night I developed a fever. Before my fever hit, BrontoRen decided to have a photoshoot documentary hour with me because she decided sickly pale was my best look.

*****

Here is a question for you all. Can BrontoRen use this as her publicity photo or is it too sexily pretentious?

*****
Sorry if this isn't all that funny or interesting. I still have the flu.

We Can't Because Then We'll End Up in a Ditch

2008-02-18T11:29:00.000-08:00

I think BrontoJem is going to post a fun summary of our trip to Albuquerque, so I will just focus on what happened yesterday driving home on 81 North. We started our day watching a bit of Spiderman at a hotel in Wichita that took us (me) about an hour to find the night before. While watching, I kept thinking, "How old is Toby Maguire in this movie?" I often wonder how old people are. Then I think about how old I am compared to them and what I was doing when, say, they were twelve, or if I wasn't born yet, what my mom was doing then. When I was younger and stayed the night at friends' houses, sometimes I would ask the parents, "When was this made?" and "What year was this photograph taken?" and the like. That was my thing.

We went to the Golden Corral for lunch and BrontoJem and I both decided not to eat meat without discussing the matter with each other. I think we were just sick of eating at restaurants, but we had to eat something. I ate cabbage, fried rice, brussel sprouts, chicken noodle soup (w/o the chicken), and twist ice cream.

Then BrontoJem drove until we decided we wanted some meat after all, and we looked for a place that sold hotdogs. The Casey's we stopped at was the same one we stopped at last year. BrontoJem remembered the woman who worked there because BrontoJem suspected she is a lesbian and hoped both times that she is doing alright in the conservative Kansas town. Yesterday, she was talking about her kids and when she rang up my donut, she sighed and scrunched up her face as if she were going to pass out right then from exhaustion.

We had to go to Dairy Queen to get the hotdogs and the DQ was elevated from the rest of the town on a platform-like area and our car barely fit around the drive-thru. BrontoJem ordered a hotdog with just ketchup and I ordered one with everything on it except chili, so of course they put nothing on it. We drove away and I think BrontoJem thought I was going to accept the fact that the hotdog had nothing on it, but I pretended to get angry and I drove back and went inside to get the problem corrected. I really just put all the ingredients on the hot dog from the condiment table.

So I will skip ahead a bit to the complete white-out snow storm disaster. I was driving and had been for a while. BrontoJem had woken up from a nap about fifteen minutes previously. Then all of the sudden, we entered a snow storm, but just the beginning of one, and the first patch of snow that appeared on the road sent me careening into the ditch. I pumped the breaks because BrontoJem did that once when we hit ice and lost control of her car, and I have to be honest, I don't have a lot of experience dealing with these sorts of snow emergency situations. With my Jeep Cherokee, I just drive in 4 Wheel Drive whenever there is any snow or ice, and my car has complete traction and I feel invincible. So a guy ran out to meet us immediately and managed to get another guy to help push our car out with BrontoJem. We were rescued and I continued driving.

Here is where I completely unraveled and since BrontoJem didn't break up with me then, I don't think she ever will. I started driving really slowly, convinced that any patch of snow was going to send us back into the ditch. Anytime a car came near me, I started breathing really heavily and slowed down even more. I wasn't driving over the speed limit when we went into the ditch, so I figured I had to go even slower so we wouldn't die. The worst part was that there were some parts of the road that seemed elevated, so if we lost control, I figured we would topple down a hill or into some trees before dying, which is much worse than just dying instantly. Am I right?

BrontoJem asked me to pull over, but I wouldn't because I thought that would send us crashing into a ditch. To be honest that was my thought process about every action we were forced into making so as to get out of the snowstorm: "We can't because then we'll end up in a ditch." Finally, BrontoJem said, "What I need for you to do is to pull over right now." She said it in a very forced way that seemed to be a nice substitute for screaming. I could tell.

Since we were stopped I didn't really want to continue on. I thought we could block some stranger's drive-way for a while until it stopped snowing. The rules had changed. It was snowing and we had just gotten out of a ditch. I thought that maybe we could even spend the night at the stranger's house. BrontoJem said no.

We stopped to get gas and I thought that would be our chance just to stop and maybe take a nap or something in our car or drink a lot of coffee in the restaurant for a while. BrontoJem wasn't hearing any of it. I did agree, though, to continue on if BrontoJem only drove 20 MPH. She agreed. But when we got into the car, she drove 40 MPH. I was in a complete panic. All we could see was white and the red tail lights of the car in front of us.

So here is what I kept saying. "Please slow down," "Can't you drive slower?" "Please just slow down a little bit?" and variations on that theme. BrontoJem didn't listen at all.

It turns out I was whining in a very annoying way, but I had no idea. I thought we were going to die. I was also very angry that BrontoJem wouldn't listen to me and I had no control over the situation. (This is why I don't like flying because I feel like it is a very dangerous situation that I have no control over.)

I think if I were driving and BrontoJem was panicking and asking me to drive more slowly, I would have done it. That's all I'm going to say.

But we survived and BrontoJem made that possible, so how can I really be angry? I'm not.

I want to finish this post by making it interactive. What witty way would you close this post? Your conclusion must involve ditches.

To the Swirler of the Pool

2008-02-12T21:49:00.000-08:00

What the hell are you doing? Sometimes you do a great job -- I'd be the first to admit it. But lately, you are sucking it up.

You took a woman from her family, a family that is really only held together by her. And that sucks.

And if you're gonna suck it up, I'm gonna be selfish for a minute. You not only took her from her family, you took her from my mom. Could you cut my mom a break, just once, please? Give her a friend she can keep. One who doesn't go crazy. One who doesn't die. One who is as good as friend to her as she is to them.

Maybe you could just let her be really happy for awhile.

Now, after reading this strongly worded letter, you may want to make this up to us. I have an idea. Could you please let me meet the person who taught my mother that showing feelings is weak and people will use it against her?

Let me meet him, and then let me kick his ass.

On a side note, thanks for teaching me how to be a better daughter.

I'm like a proud momma...

2008-02-01T12:10:00.000-08:00

This is a video from one of my students last semester. I have no doubt that he will one day be famous.

He plays Percy...and directed it.

Yea, don't you wish your students were cool like mine?

Episode #1

Episode #2

The Volante needs to do what USA Today won’t

2008-01-26T15:54:00.000-08:00

In December 2004, Al Neuharth, the founder of USA Today and the Freedom Forum, a foundation that promotes free press, called for American troops to be brought home from the Iraq War, a war he labeled as “ill-advised.”

Today such sentiments are nearly absent from USA Today, perhaps due to the fact that Gannet Co. owns the newspaper along with such publications as Defense News, Army Times, Navy Times, Marine Times and Air Force Times. Could it be that Gannet Co. is betraying the original vision of USA Today by only presenting news that conforms to its pro-military bias?

Ron Paul, a Republican candidate for president, is calling for the immediate withdrawal of troops from Iraq while no other current candidate takes such a bold and defiant stance against the war. While I do not agree with all of Ron Paul’s political beliefs, I think that a candidate who has consistently raised millions of dollars throughout his campaign, even setting a one day fundraising record of $6 million dollars, deserves more media attention than he is currently receiving.

It frustrates me when I talk to people who have never even heard of Ron Paul when he received second place in the Nevada Republican Primary and has consistently placed higher than Giuliani, someone who has constant media attention.

USA Today has a responsibility as a newspaper with the highest circulation in the United States to present the facts of the 2008 Primaries and Caucuses in an unbiased manner. I cannot help but think that Gannet’s military interests have something to do with the fact that USA Today’s January 24, 2008 cover story is entitled, “Which hopeful is the face of the new GOP?” All Republican candidates except Ron Paul are featured in the article as contenders for the Republican nomination. Page two profiles the Republican candidates, but Ron Paul is only mentioned in passing. Ron Paul is even cropped from a photo of the Republican candidates at a debate.

I think it is the responsibility of The Volante to represent Al Neuharth’s ideals of a free press and free society by accurately covering the 2008 Presidential Election since USA Today refuses to do so. In my opinion, the conduct of USA Today has the potential to mar the reputation of the University of South Dakota due to our close association with the publication through Al Neuharth.

In October 2007 on the campus of the University of South Dakota, those associated with the Al Neuharth Award for Excellence in the Media celebrated the 25th anniversary of USA Today by honoring past and present editors of the newspaper. The truth of the matter is that such a celebration only honors and glorifies the continuation of censorship, partisan practices, and yellow journalism. The madness has got to stop and students, professors, and staff of the University of South Dakota need to be the first to protest or risk having their university, and all the freedoms and liberties associated with higher education, co-opted by corporate interests.

The True Adventures of Us

2008-01-24T08:33:00.001-08:00

A play in two Acts.

Act I: Scene 1

BrontoRen is sitting on the couch in a messy living room in a messy, sort-of-shady, upstairs apartment. BrontoJem is sitting on a green, broken recliner two feet away from the couch. They are both using their laptops and watching "Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles" on the television pointed in their direction. The time is 12:45 a.m.

BrontoRen: Does it smell like someone is smoking pot to you?

BrontoJem (sniffing): Yes, doesn't it smell good?

BrontoRen: No.

BrontoJem: Well, I like it.

BrontoRen: I just think I should have the choice to smell it or not. I shouldn't be forced into it.

A few minutes pass and the pot smell dissipates.

BrontoRen: I feel dizzy.

BrontoJem: There is no such thing as a contact high.

BrontoRen: Well, I think there is.

After a considerable pause.

BrontoJem: Do you smell that?

BrontoRen: Yeah, what is that?

BrontoJem: I think it's gas. Is the stove off?

BrontoRen: Yeah, I think so.

BrontoJem: Maybe it is from downstairs.

A quarter of an hour passes and the smell does not go away. BrontoJem gets up and checks to make sure all of the switches are turned to off on a small electric stove. She returns to the living room.

BrontoJem: What time is it?

BrontoRen: 1:15.

BrontoJem: Do you think it is too late to knock on our neighbors door?

BrontoRen: No.

Act I: Scene 2

BrontoJem is knocking on the downstairs door. She is wearing sweatpants and a nice blouse without a bra. She pretends to be not conscience of this fact. She is not wearing shoes. The door opens and BrontoJem is greeted by an attractive curly haired man in glasses. He is high.

BrontoJem: Hi, I'm your neighbor from upstairs. We have a strong smell of natural gas up there. Are you smelling anything?

Man: No, no. Umm...do you want me to call L?

BrontoJem: Okay, I was just wondering because scents tend to travel into our apartment from down here. Yeah, that would be good. So, you are going to call her?

Man: Yeah, yeah.

BrontoJem: Okay, thanks.

BrontoJem returns to her apartment.

Act I: Scene 3

BrontoJem and BrontoRen are in their kitchen where BrontoRen is starting to clean frantically.

BrontoJem: Well, I don't think we can stay here tonight.

BrontoRen: Yeah we can; we will just open all the windows.

Both women look at eachother and realize they should open the windows in the kitchen. Both proceed to do so.

BrontoJem: We could stay with Lu and Bridge. I am sure they won't mind.

BrontoRen continues to do dishes while BrontoJem makes two unsuccessful phone calls. They hear a knock on the front door. BrontoJem answers the door to be greeted by the downstairs neighbor.

Man: L is on the phone. She couldn't reach you or something.

BrontoJem (taking cell phone): Hello?

L: Hi, so you are smelling gas?

BrontoJem: Yes.

L: Well, I am pretty sure I have been in your apartment and you don't have anything that uses gas.

BrontoJem: Our stove doesn't have flames.

L: What?

BrontoJem: You know, it just heats up -- there's no fire.

L: You have a coil?

BrontoJem: Sorry, I am no good with appliances. Yes, we have a coil.

L: Then it is not a gas stove. I think it must be a sewer leak.

BrontoJem: Um...okay.

L: Let me call you back. What number can I reach you at?

BrontoJem: 701-555-6789

L: And I'll get you?

BrontoJem: Yes.

L: Bye.

BrontoJem gives phone back to neighbor.

BronotJem: Thanks.

BrontoJem proceeds up the stairs and enters the kitchen where BrontoRen is sitting at the table.

BrontoJem: L thinks it's a sewer leak. I don't think we should stay here.

BrontoRen starts to clean out the fridge while BrontoJem makes two more unsuccessful phone calls.

BrontoRen: I think it will be fine. We can just open the window in the bedroom and close the door.

BrontoJem: And turn on the air conditioner?

BrontoRen: Yeah.

BrontoJem: Okay. That's better than bothering Lu and Bridge.

Someone knocks on the front door. BrontoJem goes to answer it and is greeted again by downstairs neighbor with a cell phone.

Man (handing BrontoJem the phone): L tried to call you but you didn't answer.

BrontoJem: Hello?

L: Hi, you didn't answer your phone.

BrontoJem: That is crazy. It's in my pocket, it just didn't ring.

L: I called a plumber. They won't come out tonight. He said it probably wasn't dangerous to stay there tonight but that has got to be wrong. I don't want you sleeping there. Do you have a friends or something? Or maybe the neighbors will let you crash on their floor...

BrontoJem: We have some friends.

L: Good. Now it would be great if you could open some windows but not any that are near pipes, so not in the kitchen or bathroom.

BrontoJem: Okay.

L: Well, try to have a good night. I'll...I won't tell you what I think of those plumbers and I will talk to you later.

BrontoJem gives phone back to neighbor and attempts to apologize but he dashes back into his apartment before she can say anything. She returns to the kitchen, picking up dirty clothes on her way.

BrontoJem: L says we can't stay here. Probably for insurance reasons. If we get sick I think we could sue probably.

BrontoRen: Yeah.

BrontoJem: So how about I just call Lu one last time and then we just go over and knock on the door?

BrontoRen (obviously uncomfortable with the idea): Okay.

BrontoJem calls Lu and leaves a voicemail message.

BrontoJem: Lu, our apartment is leaking sewer gas so we are coming over right now to spend the night. Bye.

BrontoJem makes a horrible face.

BrontoRen: What's wrong?

BrontoJem: I just threw up in my mouth a little bit.

BrontoJem: Do we need to bring blankets or anything?

BrontoJem: Maybe just our own pillows.

BrontoRen and BrontoJem enter the bathroon to do a nightly routine; wash faces, go to the bathroom, brush teeth, etc. They do not speak for a few minutes.

BrontoJem: Or maybe we should just get a hotel. Would that be better?

BrontoRen: Yeah.

BrontoJem: Where do you want to stay?

BrontoRen: Not the Super8. How about the Holiday Inn?

BrontoJem: Isn't that the most expensive one?

BrontoRen: Okay, that other one by Hy-Vee.

Both Brontos put on shoes and coats to leave. BrontoJem starts to cough so hard she makes gagging noises.

BrontoRen: Don't throw up now. We're almost outta here.

Act II

BrontoRen and BrontoJem are sitting laying on the same bed in a moderatly priced hotel. There is a second bed in the room that is not being used. On the television is PBS with a show about Jews in Hollywood.

BrontoRen: This was a fun adventure.

BrontoJem: Lu is going to get my message and then think we died before we could get out of the house. I don't want to call her because you know that this will be the phone call she answers and I'll have to say, "I'm calling to tell you everything is fine."

BrontoRen: You can tell her in the morning.

BrontoJem: Should we go to bed now?

BrontoRen: Yeah, I'm tired. Goodnight.

BrontoJem: Goodnight.

BrontoJem turns off the TV as BrontoJem puts on headphones that are connected to a Buddha machine. Lights fade out.

What Goes Around, Came

2008-01-19T21:23:00.000-08:00

Making comments on an autobiographical narrative essay my cousin wrote, I pretend he's my student and I'm clairvoyant. At four years old, you sounded perfectly like a cartoon woman singing her voice away into a shell for a seahag. Those details are interesting and also establish a time period. Why not include them?

To defend the current relevance of this detail, mention that people associate Thom Yorke's singing at the end of “Nude” on Radiohead’s "In Rainbows" with Ariel’s song from "The Little Mermaid" and write how that makes you feel--
overlooked.

Sleeping alone recently, I chipped my bottom two front teeth and woke up to see shadow spiders and centipedes moving on the wall. Once, I jumped out of bed and lifted up the mattress to see where a shadow centipede went.

No one really grinds his or her front teeth according to a nurse.

FDA, don’t classify food as a drug
nor regulate the cranberries
nor ban them if they are to be used to treat urinary tract infections
without your say so.
Please.

I’ll start making pouches.
I’ll hide everything.

I'll practice saying:
What goes around,
came.
That means,
you were fucked when you started.

Living it up with Buddy

2008-01-13T21:40:00.000-08:00

and Andy and Connie and Sugar and Spice and Darcy...and two fish.

For a limited time we have unlimited access to an awesome Lesbian movie library so we have been taking an extreme advantage of that. Here are the movies we have watched during the week (not all of these are lesbian films):

My Summer of Love
The Ultimate Lesbian Short Film Festival
The Incredibly True Adventures of 2 Girls in Love (Tina from L Word plays the more masculine one)
Lianna
If These Walls Could Talk 2
Sliding Doors (I don't know if this counts because we watched it for 10 minutes and turned it off because Gwyneth Paltrow's accent is awful.)
Watching You: Intriguing Lesbian Short Films
Lost and Delirious (I love this one.)
Saving Face (My favorite!)
Memento
Cars
Men In Black 2
Hedwig and the Angry Inch
Bend it Like Beckham
Heartbreak Kid
Land of Women
Reign Over Me

We also worked on our syllabi for our classes and took advantage of the whirlpool tub.

We have had a good week.

Some things we said to each other while scooping cat litter:
BrontoJem: "It's not a flapjack."
BrontoRen: "This is fun."
BrontoRen: "I want this one. It's my favorite."
BrontoJem: "That's the one I wanted!"

Okay, we are not impressive, but our time has been consumed by dogs who love attention.

I miss everyone.