Friday, December 28, 2012
Monday, December 10, 2012
|On the streets of Philadelphia, on route to The Electric Factory.|
On August 4th there were two opening acts at The Electric Factory, The Milk Carton Kids, followed by The Lumineers. We weren’t sure what the opening acts would even be when we ordered our tickets, so seeing these bands was just icing on the OCMS cake!
Friday, December 7, 2012
I was never fully afraid that the same fate would befall me, but I have always been a bit jumpy while working with my strings. Maybe I just understand you should respect things that are wound that tight and at such great tension? Luckily no mutilation has ever occurred while working with my guitar, though.
Last night my friend was on me to play some guitar so I picked up my Alvarez. It was fairly off, so I was tuning it up. Upon reaching the B string, I gave the tuning peg a slight turn and SNAP!! It violently came to its end, grazing my hand when it flew.
I was very surprised to see that it actually happened; not even a wound in the weakest of definitions but the string had in fact drew actual blood, a tiny tiny dot of glistening blood. Not enough for a meal or anything, but it was there. I'll be damned; it DOES happen.
It occurred to me how this is a metaphor for guitar play in itself or even life in general. Like most fears, even if it DOES one day happen...the fear itself is much worse than the actual wound. The anticipation does much more damage than the event. Our fears are warranted, perhaps, but still ridiculous. Most things worried about never happen anyway, so you need to just brace yourself and tighten that string!! It could either draw blood or music out of you, but aren't they really one and the same?
"Do not die with your music still inside of you." - Wayne Dyer
Wednesday, November 28, 2012
|Signage for the Dalai Lama on the Downtown Mall|
|Crossing into nTelos Wireless Pavilion Land|
|Post speaking, under the Pavilion, we were seated to the right in the white chairs.|
|The Wall on the Mall, filled with messages in chalk.|
|We left our marks on the wall.|
Friday, November 23, 2012
|Columbia and Frank-N-Furter's shadows in full attire|
|Magenta and Riff Raff on stage and screen|
|The RHPS Shadow Cast at The State Theater|
Wikipedia: The Rocky Horror Picture Show
TRHPS Official Fan Site: http://www.rockyhorror.com
Many, many viewings of The Rocky Horror Picture Show
Thursday, November 22, 2012
In the spirit of the holiday, I would like for my positive side to make a fuss over my daughter now, because there is really nothing in my life that I am more thankful for.
It is funny to think of how fragile a human life is, in general and on the web of existence. They are each such tiny stands in the fabric of time, yet they can powerfully touch so many lives. There is a delicate balance that holds them in 'being'. Had anything happened differently in the course of my life, there would be no Celie Ruth.
Anyone can say this, but do you truly grasp what that means? Anything. Obviously, had I not married and mated with my husband, she wouldn't be here, but the nuances of fate are even more delicate than that. If I hadn't had an early miscarriage before conceiving her, she wouldn't be here. If I hadn't waited until I was 29 to conceive, she wouldn't be here. If I had EVER used the pill as a contraceptive, suspending my ovulation and the order of my eggs...she wouldn't be here!
Those are some odds. Are they really odds? It just seems to me that this is the way it was supposed to be, the Universe wanted its Celie Ruth. While I was pregnant with her, I would tell the Universe in my head, ' This is your child...' I was but a vessel for the amazing thing brewing inside of me. Something has far greater hopes and dreams for this critter than even I can imagine. She is a child of the Universe, my daughter, but my little sister in creation as well.
I know that she stresses me out a lot and can drive me crazy, but I would surely be lost without her. She is seriously cooler than about 78% of the people I know. A friend was warning me the other day about becoming too much of a friend to her as sometimes happens to single parents. This is something I'll surely have to struggle with, because unconsciously I am just hanging out everyday. We are alone together so much and I am alone with her so much, we're going to have to make sure the parent/child line is distinct. I'm not a single mother and could never imagine the hardships those women face daily, but as a SAHM all week on her own, I experience a tiny sliver of that life. When you are lonely, you lean on a companion you can, and I have her. We'll see how the balance unwinds as she gets older.
Mostly we hang out and listen to music, watch our favorite shows, read books, color, draw, talk, and play pretend. Sounds like best friends to me! What does that say about me, then, if my two year old is my best friend? It means she's one cool cat, that's what it means!
Tuesday, November 20, 2012
This is normal, most people have junk. Is it normal to save your cleansing bottle from your hospital stay 2 years ago when you birthed your first child? It's a perfectly good bottle! Could be used to hold some fluid? To squirt onto a wild fire, perhaps, or some outbreak of the plague in your nether region? I certainly wouldn't be letting anyone borrow said bottle, so what were my intentions? I have no idea. No idea.
THANKFULLY I also found those two pieces to the glider chair that we burned earlier this year! Awesome. You never know what those miscellaneous pieces of wood could be used for. They're already varnished, even! Ch!
The Downy Ball is important, right? You need that fabric soft and if you don't have a reservoir in your washer you are shit not of luck. I needed this Downy Ball when I was in college. The washer in the house I lived in needed it....over ten years ago! I have never required the use of this item since then, but you just never know when I could be suddenly surprised at the door by someone needing to borrow one, or if I wake up one day and my washer is different. It pays to be prepared... sometimes.
Samples of shit are great for when you run out of shampoo or lotion! What makes them even better is time. These random ones I found hale from the college era, just like the Downy Ball. Because what I want when I am completely out of conditioner, which never seems to happen, is a shot of goo that has lost all of its color, scent, and possibly potency as well.
Outdated emulsion is always handy, too, and by that I mean when the hell would I ever use this? You never know when I would feel like doing some screens just for fun that wouldn't turn out or expose at all.
An empty bottle of men's shampoo? Why not. The tiny remnants in the bottom of the bottle are more than enough to offer to the random men that show up wanting to wash their hair that I just don't want to disappoint. Why? No, I mean why did this end up here?
No collection of junk is complete without an unopened, stashed pack of travel tissues that you have had intact for no less than 4 years. What better place for them to remain than right next to the remote control to a DVR box we have never used. (Remember, I found these things in the bathroom.)
All of this stuff is useful and has value, you haters probably don't even know what a perfectly good cardboard box is worth either, just like my husband. It's sad, really.
Yes, Missie, very sad indeed.
|Chair pieces, empties, and questionables.|
Wednesday, November 14, 2012
Okay, so I love cheese but what I love me some more of is a Cheese Man! No, not a man made entirely of cheese, although that would be quite impressive and delicious. My dream man...tall, dark, and sharp. Anyway, NOT a life sized Man of Muenster, but the artisan behind the taste, the texture, the smell (and did I mention the taste?) of cheese. Well, I have met such a man in my travels. I don't know his proper name, most simply call him "The Cheese Man". If you get to the Avondale Hotel on the right day, you'll see him and if you have any lucky piece of bone or cartilage in your body at all you will get some cheese. He periodically stops into the local pub with his local cheese, and a couple of weeks ago he was back!! Cheese Man used to take an order sheet, but now it is FIRST COME FIRST SERVE! Eek! I know! They were out of Swiss Rye by the time I got there, but thank goodness he still had Garlic...and Horseradish...and Hot...and....it's GOOD stuff, trust me. Cheese Man will talk to you about the fine art of cheese making if you ask him, he's very approachable despite his celebrity, he meets and greets his fans, always!
The Cheese Man makes his cheese in 1 1/4 lb. blocks. He used to offer a smoked and non smoked version of each kind. Now he only appeared to have the smoked cheese, unless I totally missed it? You're better off, as I am told that the smoked cheese will last you a great deal longer than the regular even though most people find it hard to keep their cheese in the house for very long. Rumor has it the cheese will draw you out of bed at night to eat it, the is stuff is that good! True story! The blocks are wrapped in cellophane and marked. He has boxes of cheese; it's GLORIOUS! Cheese so pungent that you can smell the delicious fire smoke through the Saran coat. It's an exciting day at the Avondale when the cheese comes in. Usually SOMEBODY cuts into theirs and shares. This time we had a Cheese Party, with 4 blocks opened up for our sampling by awesome friends. Someone even contributed crackers, as I was slacking and didn't have a box of Triscuits on me. (I don't know what I was thinking.)
It is moments like these that I wish I had my Moleskine with me more often, but there I am, Twisted Tea in hand, chatting it up with the man of the hour! I "interviewed" CM this time, asking him many questions about his craft, but I can't remember exact names of places. WHAT is interesting and commendable, though, is the fact that Cheese Man strives to keep all of his ingredients coming from Pennsylvania. He makes the cheese in "The Cheese House" that is a small little house that was used, I assume, to produce cheese on his family's farm back in the day. He and his brother, I believe he said, acquired it from the family for cheese making. He hand builds the smokers and chooses to make multiple smaller ones instead of larger ones, so as to have more control over the smoking process. He purchases his milk from a local milk farm. He acquires all of his ingredients and flavorings (the peppers, the horseradish, the rye, the garlic, etc.) from Pennsylvania. He JUST stopped making CHIVE which was possibly my favorite, so this is sad. Cheese Man said that this was because he couldn't get the particular chives for in it that he had before in prior batches, the suppliers seemed to have simply fallen off the map. So, because of his cheese making integrity, he didn't even proceed with an inferior product this time around. We'll see if he is able to find something in the future.
|"CHEESE PARTY!" at the Avondale Hotel! From the bottom left going clockwise are blocks of Swiss Rye, Horseradish, Garlic, and Super Hot.|
"Air is cheese's worst enemy!" - The Cheese Man
I bought 5 blocks of cheese off of the Cheese Man on this day. 2 I got for us, 2 for friends, and a block for my dad. We've all but finished off our two, and I cut into a block of Garlic that was supposed to be for my buddy today. I broke down. I couldn't take it. I only had a half inch of horseradish left and I panicked! I made Celie and I gourmet grilled cheese with it tonight for dinner. I have that block of garlic and a full unopened block of HOT for my dad. The smoked lasts quite awhile unopened; in the words of CM "Air is cheese's worst enemy." I thought Dad would LOVE it, so I grabbed him a block. After all, he's the one that started this. He will love this cheese and he will also appreciate the tale of the man known in my local world as The Cheese Man.
Tuesday, November 13, 2012
There is the theory that all outer chaos mirrors inner chaos, or visa versa. It's an idea, a thought, a hard truth? I'm a believer. I'm constantly struggling to fit all of my stuff into my space. I have been working on cleaning out some dark recesses again this week. I am aware that I have some hoarder tendencies, and possibly too many possessions for our humble home. I'm not a crazy materialist, we just all need stuff and I've been collecting it my entire life! Also, I have a home business and about a million hobbies. Plus, I lost my office when we decided to breed, so the dining room is where the remnants settled.
My Desk is certainly a hot spot, to say the very least. It's sometimes a volcano spewing lava. I have the OCD to create an excellent system, I simply also have the ADD to not follow through with said system. I'll reinvent, follow, tire, fail and repeat! THAT'S MY ROUTINE! I feel like I finally manage to get on this bucking bull, only to lose my grasp again. Flung to the ground. That's a metaphor. My inability to schedule and organize myself stems from something far greater than laziness.
This is my Desk, which is basically a glorified shelf, or a waste basket filing system? It has better days than others. There is some order in this chaos, though, you better believe it...I'm just not sure where I put it right now.
So, is my inner chaos mirroring my surroundings? Or is my outer chaos a reflection of my confused inner realm? I'm not sure, but if they can meet in the middle, maybe I can ride that bull a little longer this time! Either ride the bull or live with the lava!
Sunday, November 11, 2012
Yesterday, my husband stayed home to get the kiddo down for a nap while I ran to town with two of my friends to pick up a few things. It was amazing.
We took a semi back way getting there, I love this place because there are so many options for your traveling pleasure. We grabbed our stuff and got some things for the ride, then we took the long way home. I mean the long way, because we ended up stopping at Black Moshannon State Park to use their rest room. We had taken a scenic detour, the sky was gorgeous and it was a surprisingly warm day for November. After our pit stop for a pee and peek at the calm, iced tea water of the Black Moshannon, we then took Huckleberry, it's a wonderful road.
I guess my main point was how wonderful this simple pleasure was. The shear act of getting out of the house without the child, and focusing on the journey instead of the destination.
I enjoyed the company and the journey, soaking in the scenery as we slowly crept along the dirt roads, like a float in some wilderness parade where the trees were the bystanders, only in lieu of tossing candy we threw smiles of awe out at the majestic span of their limbs. We waved to the years that screamed out of each and every thick trunk. We appreciated what was passing us by instead of just driving through it, anxiously anticipating our next stop. That's a metaphor.
I always take the long way home, if I can help it.
Wednesday, November 7, 2012
- She got the short end of the stick.
- She is only a toddler and is aware of my fluctuating moods.
- She sees things in her mama she shouldn’t see.
- She is my blood relation.
- She has a high chance of turning out just like me.
- She has a highly depressive, artsy, flake of a mother.
- I’m selfish.
- She got a piece of the stick!!
- She is only a toddler and is empathetic enough to understand when I am down.
- She sees the good in me when I can only see the bad.
- She is my blood relation.
- She has a high chance of turning out just like me, only stronger.
- She will understand how complicated people can be before I send her off into it.
- She is learning independence.
This has been a random pointless list brought to you by Self-Loathing and Positive Thinking.
Tuesday, October 30, 2012
Yesterday we spent most of the day watching CNN following the path of hurricane Sandy. It's projected path took it right to our central Pennsylvania. This kind of scare was unprecedented in my life. It was only a category 1/2 but the possibility was frightening.
Monday, October 29, 2012
Saturday, October 27, 2012
I have a lot on my mind. It has been a crazy month so far. I also was forced to get a new phone when mine stopped letting me in my inbox. I got a ZTE Merit. It seems to be more intelligent than I am. I'm writing this on my phone using the blogger app. Much to learn. Much to say. Here's to technology and being in sync. That's a metaphor.
Monday, October 8, 2012
|"The Bloody End"; 13th Year|
|Front of Ravenwood Manor|