Test Drive

In a bit of thinking ahead, I've been planning what my next year's blog theme will be.  I'm thinking birthdays--I will try to write an entry for friends and family's birthdays, maybe other people too.  Well today is my ex-husband's 50th birthday. 

I found out that he shares the day with a writer/filmmaker I've been interested in over the past year or so.  This is what I wrote to that person who has been trying to fund a Kickstarter campaign:

Happy Birthday. 

It is funny to me that you have the same birthday as my ex-husband.  I thought that he would be a good investor for your movie, but since I divorced him, he's even less interested in hearing my ideas.  I left him a voicemail greeting. He is 50 today.  I feel slightly guilty that I didn't stay with him to provide the type of 50th birthday celebration that some people get.  It would have been difficult to pull off such a thing happily for him.  It seemed easier to me to stop trying.  Instead I'm on a committee to organize a 65th birthday party fundraiser for the Northwest Workers Justice Project. 

I don't like how everything ends up to be about raising money--helping low-wage immigrant workers, making art, movies.   People who have money can think about other things.  But getting money is the first step. We all have to sell something we have if we want to be able to buy something we want.   I don't like to admit it, because it seems almost like admitting that Republicans are right and everyone should just focus on personal acquisition of wealth. I have to remind myself that it could be that Marx was right instead.  Or maybe Buddha.  If I free myself from wanting things then I don't have to try to raise money.  You seem to have a good new model--transparent supportive community product production.

I hope you have good fortune and the money you need to live the life you'll be proud of at 65.

Gobble Gobble

There was a rainbow this morning over the river and into the clouds as I rode my new old bike downtown to work.  The ride across the bridge is usually my best time of the day.  At the time I was thinking about lesbians.

Here is a cool Bruce Springsteen video.  Going to see Jonathan Richman for the umpteenth time motivated me to see El Hefe for the first.



Ok there were no Thanksgiving catastrophes sitting across the table from Sandy Lee. I kind of put my foot in my mouth with her husband during the gravy making.  Our dining conversation broke down over a disagreement about natural vs. man-made Christmas trees.  It is so difficult for the most important dinner of the year to live up to expectations.

There was the creamiest green bean cassarole in the largest crock pot.  Gnarly Head merlot.  A cow family in the barn and a ham named Donald.

I brought home the tea set but no leftovers. 

Since then, in addition to seeing East Coast singer-songwriters over 60 with dark curly hair, I have spent enough money to feed a village in Africa on gifts for my family and friends, caught up on some TV, and started a book (reading not writing). 

Veteran's Day and Diwali

It is sad that they changed Armistice Day to Veteran's Day.

My hero this year is Bradley Manning.  http://www.democracynow.org/seo/2012/11/14/as_bradley_manning_offers_guilty_plea

It seems like the worst people sometimes get away with the most and the best are persecuted.

You can't believe what you read though.  Attempts to correct mistakes in the newspaper are met with shrugs, as if anyone thought they were objective reporters of what they believed to be true.  At least wikipedia can be fact-checked.

We need festivals of lights to combat the darkness that comes year after year.  We need mourning rituals to comfort each generation of children who lose their parents and have to acknowledge their own aging and mortality and the tragic unlucky parents who confront the knowledge that if there is a God, he is not always good, when they are the ones to say goodbye to their babies.  We need peacemakers and truth-tellers to sacrifice their comfort over and over to fight the people who lie and make war in order to grab some more comfort for themselves at the expense of others.

Why is it so hard to choose love over fear when no one gets out alive?

Reelection Day

Yesterday was an odd day.  All the momentum and anticipation pausing slightly before a somewhat disappointing finale.  Maybe it was Sandy, and the moist rainy hurricane-like weather here on the other blue coast.  Knowing there are very few wins and mostly constant compromise makes me feel old.  There is going to be rust and mold.

But today is fine.  Today I had a voodoo donut on the bridge.  The sunshine and clean air surrounded me not like dough around raspberry jelly.  But rather like the sky surrounds a flock of birds.  Looking back, fear and anguish seem foolish.

If it smells like death, it probably is

Happy Halloween.  I'm wearing my traditional holiday orange skirt from Alyson's mom today at work.  Tonight I'll be scary Grannie.

The vet just called to say Doh has malignant melanoma.  I haven't had the heart to kick her off the couch and bed even though she smells.  She still seems OK, has her appetite and wants to explore places she shouldn't.
Maybe she'll make it to her birthday in February.

Genocide Day?

AKA Columbus Day.  This past weekend celebrating Jack's 49th in the home of the 49ers I crossed the street from Chinatown into Little Italy and bought some Foccacia.

I love free outdoor concerts in the park.  Something old something new.

Some people called it San Francisco's Best Weekend Ever  San Francisco's Best Weekend Ever.  Although the Blue Angels were kind of annoying it was a great time.

I almost missed it

I've been sick since I fasted.  But I enjoyed the atoning.  My first sin of the New Year can be forgetting to blog about Yom Kippur.

I guess my ex decided to forgive me since he is communicating again.  I guess Nick wins some money for that.

There has been a lot happening that isn't explicit, but rather communication flying in the ether not expressed through scientific clear language but seemingly true and clear nonetheless.

I got paid back. 

I thought I could claim having achieved menopause but I started bleeding and have to start counting to one year without a period all over again.

I feel better when I dance.

I'm a Freebird?