Personal Perestróĭka

Today is my dear friend rhiannonhero’s birthday. Like all other such days it is a celebration, not just for her, but for us as well, since today we mark our joy that the universe gave her to us.

Rhi, babygirl, I love you so much. You have, over the years, turned and changed my life. You’ve helped me me see myself better as I try and see myself through your eyes. I feel like I’ve watched you change and grow, becoming a new woman, a happier person and recently a mother. I do hope the future continues to move forward and upward toward increasing happiness as the past few years have. I know some days feel dark and it’s a struggle to work through the complications in your life, but from afar I have been watching you make a steady climb upwards, into light and joy and I know someday you will really see how far you’ve come.

I love you so much and I wish so much joy for you and your family and I plan to be around for a long, long time to share in all of it with you.

There is love!!

Dear Work,

Hi, I’m not sure specifically what you were going for, but if the end result you wanted was for me to be sitting at my desk sobbing in rage and frustration at your inept ineffectiveness, well then you win! Being micromanaged to death by someone who doesn’t get it is just an added bonus. Please do not be surprised if you come in Monday morning and I do not. Please do not be surprised if I never come in again and you all have to cover for your own asses.

Not feeling the love today,

Miss JJ

So I’m driving to work this morning, pop country music playing. I hear pretty much the same six songs I ever hear when I listen to the creepy mainstream country stations. Then a song comes on that I haven’t heard. And I like it. Really like it. Alas, I am not immune to good pop music (who is really), but I feel vaguely uncomfortable about liking something on pop country radio. So I get to work and I look up the song and it’s George Strait. Hear me breathe a HUGE sigh of relief, because I unabashedly love me some George.

How ‘Bout Them Cowgirls – George Strait (click to download) Seriously, LOVE! Now someone else just needs to do an awesome, punk or outlaw honky tonk kind of cover of this and my life would be filled with joy.

(HAHAHAHAHAHAHA! Listening to it the office and my co-worker swears the intro of the GS song is ripped off from an Arcade Fire song. Oh no, honey, really no. So we listened to both, side by side, and reached no conclusive agreement.)

So the FAA has decided planes can’t fly over my neighborhood anymore. FUCKING HOORAY! Seriously, when they switched the flight path, I thought I was going crazy, like had the planes always been there and I never noticed them? But oh yay yay yay no more planes. I’ll keep my trains and traffic though. Those are noises I love. East Nashville – 1, Planes – 0!

I’m driving to work this morning and there’s a dry cleaner’s van ahead of me. Painted on the side is a photo-real picture of a guy reclining, like head on his hand, and one knee up, the other leg out stretched. Only he doesn’t have hands or a head, just suggestion of them from his pose. He is wearing a red turtleneck sweater, bone coloured khakis, black socks and sage green suede shoes. What I want to know is who fucking approved this as good advertising for dry cleaning. The van also says it’s environmentally friendly dry cleaning. Does this mean people into environmentally friendly things can’t dress themselves?

I’ve temporarily given up NPR while driving to work and instead have picked pop country radio, which makes me only slightly less aggressively, angrily insane than NPR. I think the worst part is when a song comes on and I think, “I don’t hate this song” (don’t necessarily like it, but not hating is a big step) and I find out it’s Tim McGraw or someone. UGH. Perhaps I just need to leave the stereo adapter for the iPod in the car so I can avoid all of this.

Giant, beef kosher dog, on a crusty french roll with bacon, grilled onions and green peppers, smothered in melted swiss cheese and mustard. I may never eat again. Hell, I may never get out of this chair again.

NPR had a pretty interesting bit about buying things made in America this morning. You can catch it here. I can’t decide about this. I mean I can kind of get behind “buy American” as part of the “buy local” movement. And yeah, no one wants to purchase things made by people in sweatshop conditions in Asia. But then again isn’t there a larger problem of global economics, fair trade and trying to improve labor practices around the globe? Is buying American really going to help any of those things? I haven’t decided yet, my complete stance on this, but perhaps I am going to try to buy as few new things as possible and buy everything I can second-hand. I mean, there’s already too much stuff in the world anyway, right? Maybe I’ll just eliminate the moral dilemma and buy things other people don’t want. Well, except hot dogs. I think you should always get those new. Yeah.

It’s like the Strong Interest Inventory, but only 39 questions, online, not scientifically valid, and free!

1. Go to http://www.careercruising.com/.
2. Take their “Career Matchmaker” questions.
4. Post the top ten results

cut for length because I can never follow the exact instructions

Everyone go read about the coming revolution here.

I have a strange new desire to buy dozens of vintage lucite bracelets on eBay. I’m not sure why, I just feel compelled to have them. I’d probably never even wear them. This does not jibe at all with my planned, Buddhist rejection of desire for useless things, and my personal plan to have less stuff. All part of the process, I guess. I can’t always be striving to be better if I’m perfect, right? And at least it’s eBay, so there’s a possibility I’ll lose the auctions and thus be saved from myself.

I got a new phone yesterday. It is made of awesome. Except just different enough from my old phone that I feel a little confused by it. Like it takes mental effort to use the new phone. That’ll pass when I get used to it though, right?

It’s raining. It’s not hot. Tennessee, I love you again. Please don’t go all dry and insanely sweltering on me again. I don’t know if our relationship can take it.

I might go home and dye my hair after work. I just realized how red it’s gotten. It’s weird, like my hair always defaults to reddish, no matter what I do to it.

Hi hi hi! I feel like I haven’t been around at all, so how about a song? Alabama Song – Allison Moorer (click to download)

Oh, yeah, and girls, don’t miss this: how to sell cars to gay cowboys. The little dancing cowboy as the page loads may just be the greatest thing ever. I need a graphic of it for the background on my phone. Ha! Then every time I was having a bad day, I’d just look at my tiny dancing cowboy and laugh and laugh. Yeah, that’d be great!

Because there aren’t enough worthless toys for me to play with on the internet, I spent a ridiculous amount of time playing with this new widgety bit this morning: imeem. And of course made a ridiculous playlist of everything I’ve been singing to myself this morning. cut for length, but click to listen, kids

Hey Jen,

I’m sure where ever you are you can’t read this and I know I’m just writing it for me, but obviously I’m thinking a lot about you. I hope you died knowing you were well loved and many people thought very highly of you. I have a box here of your jewelry and beads and things and I will, for the rest of my life, think of you when I use them to make new things. I hope to pass every one of those thing one to some one who will love them as much as they deserve. I am very sorry for your family, and especially for Robert. I hope he finds peace eventually and hopefully happiness and that in the end, what ever happens in the universe, that you are finally together again. The world is lacking with your absence and there will always be a little piece of my heart devoted to you.

Much love,

jj

Today I called in to work, a mental health day. They said, “Okay, take care of yourself! Be well!” And then proceeded to call or text me every ten minutes for two hours. I’m totally billing for those hours. Arg!

Then I went and took a ton of crap to Goodwill, though our house still seems to be overflowing with stuff.

I went shopping and found none of the stuff I was looking for, but I did get the new William Gibson book. I plan to do nothing on Friday night and Saturday day but read it cover to cover. I’m so excited I want to walk around hugging it to my chest.

Came home set the computer up on real table rather than a TV tray and re-did the nasty electrical mess of extension cords (now replaced with one power strip so hopefully we won’t all blow up). Put together the new desk chair and woo! Actually a reasonable place to sit at the computer now.

Now I’m doing laundry and watching CSI with H and K and plotting what to do next. I found the remote control for my digital camera, so maybe I’ll go play with that. Or clean my room. Or perhaps lay around and do nothing.

I can’t imagine how much more I’d get done if I didn’t have to work during the day.

Here is a picture of my butt in Arkansas that daft took. I don’t know why, but I really like it.

Also, had a great time with the rabid mob of girls last weekend. I’m too lazy to type it up, but smonsterbite has a decent sum up of it.

Free Will Astrology
Week beginning September 6
Copyright 2007 by Rob Brezsny

TAURUS (April 20-May 20): “The secret to success is to always be in love,” said educator and ex-army officer John H. Stanford. “Staying in love gives you the fire to ignite other people, to see inside other people, to have a greater desire to get things done than other people.” Did Stanford mean that you should be forever infatuated with some irresistible human being? Or was he referring to a more all-purpose phenomenon, like being in love with life? I urge you to meditate with great diligence and exuberance on this matter, Taurus, because you are, in my astrological opinion, going through a phase when love is EVERYTHING. It’s the question and the answer, the hammer and the nail, the dreamy necessity and the pragmatic mystery.

Amusingly I’ve been filled alternately with rage, spastic indecision, and anxiety all week. So Mr. Brezsny, you’re telling me next week will be better? ‘Cause you know I’m all about the love and if it’s coming back, I’m here for it!

I’m really, really not okay today. I feel like I might just break down at any second. I can’t tell yet if it will be shrieking, enraged, temper tantrum type break down, or a more of a collapsing, oh-god-I-can’t-deal kind of break down. I do, however, totally see tears by the end of the day.

Work has heaped a huge amount shit on me, in addition to my regular job. They are providing me with no support for getting the extra work done and, in fact, most of it can’t be done until I get necessary information from other coworkers. For some reason I’m clinging to a need to meet my deadlines and do a good job rather than just saying saying “fuck it, it’s not my problem.” And you know, it’s not my problem. Not. Not. Not.

So why can’t I let it go? I really need to do better at letting things go.

I know part of my problem today is that I’m just fucking exhausted, emotionally drained, completely burnt out. If I could go to a cabin in the mountains or at the beach, utterly alone and isolated for a few days I’m sure I’d be fine. But sadly that isn’t an option. Instead I’ll just, uh, continue to go crazy? I don’t know. I’m not sure how I can make it through work the next few days and not have to talk to anyone. I’m actually considering checking my schedule and calling in sick to work at the day job the next time I have a night off work and spending the single day locked in my room with out my cell phone or anything.

I am so fucking scattered. I’m concurrently working four separate work-work projects, I have three notepad windows open on my desk with three different blog posts partially composed in each one, I’m trying to read and answer dozens of back logged emails (both work and personal) and surfing the web for some info on some music and history things I’ve been thinking about. I’m not getting very much done on anything, since I’m bouncing around like fucking Tigger on crack.

This morning, as I went to check today’s forecast (still too hot–indeed the forecast said “unseasonably hot)) there was an ad at the top of the page that said, “Arkansas, the Natural State. Explore. Roll over to experience.” Roll over? Like roll over and play dead? Because Arkansas is surely one of the levels of hell and I do hope not to visit it again until I am dead. And even then, may my soul be saved do I don’t have to go.

Which isn’t to say I didn’t have a great weekend. The ladies visiting were awesome, amazing incredible company. The show was great. The weekend was fun, if exhausting, but I have no love for Arkansas. What I saw of the edge of the Ozarks seemed pretty, but really had nothing on the Appalachian mountains. And most of what we drove through was really incredibly depressing farm country. Despite the rivers, streams and tress it was ugly in a way I can’t really pin down. And depressing. DEPRESSING. Economically depressed, visibly so

and just not pretty like one would expect with the aforementioned trees and streams and all.

Arkansas, I have no use for you. I will stay on the TN side of the Mississippi where it is BEAUTIFUL. I don’t understand how the trees and landscape can be just enough different, directly across the river, but they are. Tennessee fills me with joy and wonder at the beauty of it. Arkansas with dread and misery. And as far as fucked up town names go? I’ll take Bucksnort, Tennessee over Bald Knob, Arkansas any day.

I need a Tennessee icon.