mid-crisis calm – or: ROAD TRIP!

February 24, 2015 | 3:13 pm

As promised, here is a brief travelogue in between the two shitstorms that have defined mid to late February 2015. Before I start, I want to mention that the siege (to be discussed in the last part) has ended, hopefully forever, and that I can properly eulogize my friend without the fear of getting attacked by, truly, the worst of the internet. But no more of that talk right now. I went away!

I have no idea why my four-day jaunt seemed to appear to be some kind of multi-week vacation to so many, but quite a few people have approached me (in person and online) saying a version of “oh! you’re back from all your travels!” I love this and I don’t know how I pulled it off — to seem like a traveling, experience-having fool without actually spending the money and taking unpaid time off!

So, my dear Molly has jumped from a non-profit to a for-profit life in the hotel industry. So when she suggested a mini Southwest vacation with sweet and discounted boutique hotel action — over Valentine’s weekend, no less — I said “yes, darling, a thousand times yes!” So we got engaged. In the business of eating, drinking, relaxing, and driving the open roads. A little throwback to our fantastic 10-day road trip, almost exactly 5 years ago.

First stop, Sedona. A bit of irony here, as we blew past this town as fast as we could the last time. My drive from my town to Sedona was insanely long; though I was in the right zombie state of mind to endure the travel (having lost my friend a couple days before), it did not afford me a lot of time there. I got at night in just enough time to have a surprisingly delicious bite to eat in the only restaurant open past 10pm. In the AM, we had some good hipster artisan resort breakfast then hit the road. Though this was a resort, I was not in the frame of mind to dawdle in the pool area and do some resort-ing, while red rocks towered above, though it looked very nice. Fortunately M had already had a couple relaxing days there (including a massage I am not allowed to talk about), so I could scoop her up and we could head due south.

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First stop, Arcosanti, “focused on innovative design, community, and environmental accountability. Our goal is to actively pursue lean alternatives to urban sprawl based on Paolo Soleri’s theory of compact city design, Arcology (architecture + ecology).

This project was planned in the mid-60s and started being built in 1970, so it is the best of the best of retro-modern utopian hippie excellence. People live in the complexes, and the whole Arcosanti/Cosanti (another area closer to Phoenix) empire makes serious bank from their silt-cast ceramics and their bronze wind chimes (the ceramics studio is the second picture above). It’s beautiful, it’s crumbling, it’s sort of forgotten, it’s a little spooky. In other words: it’s perfect.

I can’t wait to see Cosanti next time I’m over there. I have vague memories of going to Arcosanti as a child and I’m wondering if Cosanti was also a stop.

I am dying, dying to purchase a 1964 silkscreen print of Soleri’s original drawn plans, which are groovy, colorful and organic. Hot undeniable desire. While I was wrestling with myself about this, Molly and I developed a new grading system for my object lust. The yardstick by which all other objects are measured is the Navajo crown, spotted by me at a Trading Post in NM on our last SW road trip:

[A] sterling silver, turquoise-studded crown that was inscribed “Navajo Queen.” I wanted it so badly I got a little dizzy.

That thing is, even 5 years later, is a shiny, quivering, expensive, beautiful/weird ultimate symbol of pure desire — desire to own the living daylights out of it. Which I do not.

Working the complicated equation of desirability, usability, attainability, and jenesaisquoisbility, the Soleri print ranks 50% on the Navajo Queen grading scale. This is a high number, trust me. The percentage may actually rise soon, as the sustained desire is not flagging and is in fact increasing. This is thanks to the attainability (it’s a decent price and mine with a credit card number and a quick call to the gift shop). However, framing, wall space, and thriftiness are keeping the print at bay. For the time being.

Woof, I went on a tangent! Anyway! After tromping around in the noble experiment, we continued to Phoenix and had a glass of wine with my family friend Jo Ann, who is a delight and who is recovering from some health problems and who is dearer to me than any damn Navajo Queen crown.

We had plans to see improv that night but my demeanor crumbled a bit and Molly developed a cold so we found some delicious Italian food in downtown PHX that wasn’t too romantic-couply (this was Feb 14, a Saturday, yuk) then headed to our deluxe hotel, which was outfitted with wine, snacks and valentines from M’s hotel colleague. I’m never allowing Molly to quit this job.

I’m going to have to break this account in two, since there is so much more mystical hippie fantasticness yet to come. And jerky, lots of jerky.

More Arcosanti:

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sad week

February 19, 2015 | 11:20 am

This has been a hell of a week (right, Kyle?) I’ll break it into three parts — the first one sad, the second one happy, the third infuriating.

My town is not a small town (100k and some change, citizens-wise) but the community within my town is tiny. And so shock waves from a big event within our ranks travel deep and strong.

I had a friend, who was also a work colleague, who was also a fellow theatre performer. He died last week, horribly. I don’t want to give any more details here because I don’t want to attract attention to this post. More on that in part three.

But this I can share: I am sad. Everyone else is sad. On one hand, I take comfort knowing that pretty much everyone I know here is feeling the same way I am, and that we’re taking time to be kind with one another, feeling free to have ugly-cries together, and helping each other out.

On the other hand, I can’t get away from it. I can’t find solace in the discipline of work, I can’t fully escape into the magic of the stage. The big fat hairy paws of grief are grabbing at me wherever I turn. (I did manage to find a few days of sort-of escape — part two of this series.)

When I’ve experienced loss of people who my local friends did not know (my father, my stepfather, etc.) I was hideously alone in my grief, and had to try hard to point out to others the pain I was in. There was much less tolerance for it, and full expectations that I was to be over it in an acceptable time frame. So that sucked too.

Grief/loss is sure a lose-lose situation. And if the mechanics of humans are any hint, I shall continue to experience grief within a whole lot of scenarios, until my own mechanics inform me that it’s my turn. And that is a part of life, sure. Okay.

And, as for the inability to properly eulogize my friend here: If you know my theatre, or the non-profit at which I work, you can go to the websites and see words I’ve written there.

And let’s celebrate the small victory of being showered and dressed!


shut up, face.

February 11, 2015 | 12:56 pm

I had a freak accident last night that had a mildly humorous outcome. I posted a picture and the story to Facebook, then deleted it immediately. Why? Because

A. I didn’t want the well-meaning but fun-squashing comments along the lines of “OH NO WHAT HAPPENED?!?!?!” and “Tea Tree Oil, trust me.”

B. I didn’t want the pure snark, which these days is along the lines of “LOL senior moment!!”

Basically I wanted people to appreciate my story in the exact way that I intended and to post only insightful comments with the appropriate level and kind of humor that aligns with my tastes.

So yeah, the blog seems to be the place for me to dump stuff like this. And since no one comments I can pretend that thousands of people are reading and appreciating in a hambox-approved, non-snarky way.

Can I tell the story now? (I’m fully aware of my total crabbiness today. My active sleeplife is exhausting. Last night, sleep-me decided to remove the toilet paper from its holder and tuck it into my bed. I awoke with TP wound around my arms. There’s another story I won’t share with FB.)

I was about to cross my street last night, mid-block. I was clutching a stack of bills and reaching for my car keys in my purse when my body misjudged the curb somehow. I stumbled and started to fall between two parked cars. I tried to catch myself with my left arm and managed to jam my fingers into a truck’s grille. That was the mail-holding hand, so the paper provided a buffer, otherwise I’d be all cut up. As it is, startling hand bruises are appearing. I’m a little sore all over but it could’ve been a disaster!

Maybe that TP story was more worth the detailed telling. Thanks for “listening,” blog.

feeling that sweet spot of youth

January 23, 2015 | 11:18 am

I dreamt last night that one of my brothers — the one 10 years older that me, the one I don’t have a lot of contact with — and I wandered around our old home town. Of course, this home town was an odd amalgam of locations that presented as a small, hilly, old-fashioned village. Our old house was a fabulous mid-century modern ranch house (again based in only dream-reality), which we were free to wander through.

At times, I was an adult, having a realistically awkward conversation with this brother, complete with uncomfortable pauses and a lot of un-shared memories — since I am so much younger than my siblings, I was too young to remember anything formative that went on in their youths. In real life, when my brother and I do make a rare connection in person, it is as cordial and bloodless and vaguely pleasant as our dream encounter.

But at other times in this dream, I was a kid, and my brother was the young adult as I knew him then — open and adventurous and full of ideas, delighting in the energy a curious and precocious kid can provide.

And I found myself really feeling like a child again — not in any silly or simplistic way, but in a quiet space of pure absorption. A place a kid can get to when a loving adult gives them their attention and time and ear. I felt completely open to new ideas, free to state my own, and was aware of how important this was. This wasn’t just a mindless afternoon — I was growing and learning real-time from this encounter.

I felt like I got to time travel in the best way. I am grateful to all the kids whom I encounter through my work, and my great-niece and nephew who I spent time with this holiday. They have allowed me to feel, however briefly, what’s it’s like to be them, and it will make me a better adult.


pretty pictures

December 18, 2014 | 2:22 pm

I couldn’t face my stupid and boring and businessy post I just posted, below, so I wrote another better one and have posted that, too. Here you go!

Have I mentioned I’m in more of a Christmas spirit than since I don’t know when? That I hauled a full-size, Silver-Tipped Birch up my stairs? That I’ve been listening to Christmas music voluntarily? Who am I?

Someone that is feeling somewhat carefree and is trying to redefine the concept of holiday, family, and happiness for herself, that’s who. And maybe it took her nearly 12 years to work through some of the deep, intense grief and sadness that this time of year brings, since, you know — mom.

Here are some proof in pictures. Maybe I’ll see you before I head out for my yearly reconnection with really frosty weather. If not, have a nice, nice time.


One of the many odd creatures that my mom liked to have around her, especially at Christmas. This one might be my favorite! Who is this holly-covered little beast with a party hat and no features? I don’t know but I love him.


The Christmas tree lot was staffed by burly, manly, bearded, lumberjacky dudes from Oregon. Happy merriment to ME!


Angel with the giant hands/Upon my Christmas tree you lands. Surprisingly not from mom but from a weird and wonderful ornament exchange party, which I’m happy to say is resuming after a hiatus in 2013. A hint to what I’m bringing, below.


I made these ornaments! They are not wooden throwing stars, you snarky internet friends. I designed, laser cut, sanded, stained, assembled and glued them, all without losing a finger or mind!

I made this!

Here’s a poor picture of a completed one in action. Lots of laser wood projects going on around here!


I had a great Thanksgiving in Palm Springs. Here’s Molly in Joshua Tree.


What a trip! I get to write the coda of my dishware saga, thanks to seeing and purchasing what was juuuuuust under these decanters.


One more picture from Palm Springs, summing it all up: A one man band playing bluesy Christmas originals and singing into a red megaphone at a Tiki Bar.

Happy sigh.

big fat sigh of relief

December 18, 2014 | 1:51 pm

I have tried to keep on top of things, obligations, chores. So far, it has (sort of!) worked. A 4-year bootcamp of taking care of another adult yet helpless human has really changed things for me. (for the most part!)

Oh, except. Except. Yeah, except a few things, most notably a massive procrastination effort that almost screwed me, big time. It’s complicated, as anything to do with HEALTH CARE PREMIUMS is!

Really? I’m going to be a dull gasbag who is about to drone on about health care premiums? During the holiday season? When I post, like once every other month?

OK. Let’s just say:

  • My health care provider (HCP) did not adjust well to the health care coverage reform in 2013 in pretty much every way.
  • I delayed getting on the phone with my HCP to get everything fixed. Because I couldn’t face the torture.
  • I was getting deeper into hot water every month that I delayed getting everything straightened out, including the possibility of not getting reimbursed many many dollars.

I finally broke down and confessed to my boss that I had put off all of this crap, time was almost out, I was going to owe a whole lot of money, I’m a terrible person, etc. She paused and then confessed pretty much the exact same story to me.

So, hand in hand, we faced our worst fears, which were not that bad, ultimately (which is an outcome that often happens). With a whole lot of elbow grease, we got everything back into motion, with pretty much zero repercussions. Hooray!

Not only that, but she came over the other day and started poking around my apartment and opened a closet (I should mention here that we’ve been good friends far longer than we’ve worked together). I shrieked, because it happened to be my closet of shame where a lot of unfiled papers have been living (procrastination project #2). She actually SNORTED DERISIVELY, because it was such a small mess compared to her mess at home, generated by a home office and six children.

So, not only do I feel better, since my shames turned out not to be very shameful things in the big picture, but ALSO MY GOD the feeling of relief flooding my system!!!! So good. So good! I have missed that feeling of finally getting to something, and finishing it successfully against all the self-imposed odds, after all that heartache.

Not enough to make it a habit (again!), though.

And, with one last backward horrified look at the grammar of that last sentence, I move on.


the give you give

December 2, 2014 | 1:29 pm

[Expanded from my Facebook Post from Tuesday, December 2 – also known suddenly by the internet as Giving Tuesday]

I’ve had a lot of conversations recently about giving and about being of service and how, within a couple generations, a lot of people (including myself) have ceased to weave charity into the fabric of their existence. A lot of people my parents’ age sure seemed to have it down. At the end of the year, my parents would sit at their desks with their checkbooks out, and methodically give to all the charities that sent them letters. Not only that, but volunteering in a very community minded way was a given, not an option.

I certainly know people who are younger than my parents who too have it down and also sit down at the end of the year with their laptops and credit cards. Who volunteer their time with no other intention but to do what they can. Not to post a video on Facebook, not to show the world their selflessness, they JUST DO.

Personally, it took me a long time to figure it out and to fit it into my life — going from a lower middle class to a middle middle class citizen helped a lot; realizing that giving back (both by providing service and financially) improves my life on so many levels; and focusing on a few specific causes helped me not feel overwhelmed.

My humility falls somewhere between my non-Facebooking selfless friends, and the icebucket-dumping knuckleheads that infested my timeline last summer. I try to use social networking to entice and excite people into giving, themselves. And I am not shy about directing people to the causes I personally believe in. See below!

Take a leap and try directing your hard-earned simoleans to a worthy cause. Volunteer your precious time! Raise some awareness! It stings a little, but you are helping in a very real sense.

If you can’t think of causes to help, well, here you go!

  • Straight Up – a youth development organization serving 12-25 year olds in my county, raising awareness and creating change around such issues as alcohol, drugs and tobacco use. Someone you know and love is Employee #2 for this org! We had to take a budget cut hit last year and we are finding ourselves pay for way too many work items out of our own pockets.
  • Ventura Improv Company – a 25-year-old non-profit theatre in Ventura, CA, offering improv shows and classes for all ages. Someone you know and love has been volunteering for and performing with this group since 1996! We struggle, how we do struggle. If you know small theatres, our being around for a quarter century is a miracle, but we need a lot more to keep on for another 25 years.
  • WFMU – the very best radio station in the entire universe. Someone you know and love has been listening for years, married two of the DJs to each other, made out with another DJ in the past, and would FALL APART if this non-profit free-form station goes under.

oh um hi

November 24, 2014 | 12:02 am

Being a blogger (not a monetized blogger or gun for hire blogger) is being adrift on a silent sea.

But hey hello, I am very busy (and not in the superficial, half-lying, “oh gosh I’m just so active and popular”). It is hard to make time for this because I am not sure what it is I am making time for. If you are reading this, thank you for reading this!

To continue. Here are some things.

This year’s theme has “I’m not myself,” has it not? I think I’ve mentioned it plenty. I have been grappling with my new life, my new life with many fewer obligations and the fact that the only person that depended on me doesn’t anymore (his being dead and all). After the heartbreak of last year, the backbreaking will execution, and the planning/organizing of the family thing this summer, suddenly everything screeched to a halt. Family left, obligations settled, stepdad fully interred in the ground.

I’m starting to realize that I was seeking my old self, my pre-taking-care-of-John self, and that person is no longer. It’s new self and new chapter that I am struggling to find and define.

Over the fall, I crashed deeper into depression, it going from a little sullen (but relatively quiet) demon on my shoulder to a lead weightedness that made it hard to swim with. It’s getting better but I’ve had a few hard weeks. I thought I was hiding it well but there was an undeniable sadness about me that only a few people accurately identified as depression (and not stick-in-the-mud-ness, or boring-tiredness).

So I’ve made an attempt to be busier with new obligations, to be of service in various ways, to rededicate myself to my support group, and to start caring for myself again. Hard road! Hard hard road! So hard!

A lot of remarkable things have happened in a short amount of time, things that I planned on mentioning in breezy detail in this post (but no, this post had a downer mind of its own). One good thing that happened is that I’m not feeling blank horror at the holidays that we are hurtling toward, for the first time in … when? Maybe it’s because I don’t have enough time to think about all the shit I should be doing, if that makes sense, or maybe my support group work is working (despite my best efforts!), or maybe I’ve learned to make do with it all. I dunno.

Another good thing is that I still have this quiet, happy, clean home.

And another thing is that I feel valued for my knowledge and my talents.

And there are more things. But I’ll leave you to ponder this sort of sad, sort of hopeful, sort of grateful post. Happy Thanksgiving if I don’t check in before.

big blue marble

October 20, 2014 | 11:05 am

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About 20 years ago, I went to a self-actualizing weekend workshop. A lot of crying and writing and woo and meditating and “I” statements. It was okay. I did have a revelation that I was as angry at my mother as I was at my dad, but that is so totally a different subject. At any rate, it was a very typical 1990’s Marin County happening.

At one point, we were encouraged to go up to a microphone and talk about our biggest issue (or something like that).

A very earnest, very tie-dyed lady stood up and tearfully said something like “I don’t know how to save Mother Earth!”

And the still-smirky punk nihilistic in my soul rolled her eyes a little bit. Not so much at the notion but more at the delivery. Same mental place from which I ordered “Save the Whales” checks ironically in the 1980s.

I smirked, even though some troubling articles had come out already, about the puzzling and concerning global temperature increase.

I smirked, even though I knew better. And BOY do I know better now.

fucking hell

Human destruction of earth, ladies and gentlemen. All in my little lifetime.

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things i sure wish weren’t facts

October 2, 2014 | 10:16 pm

  1. I’m on a first-name basis with my exterminator.
  2. I have loud, nightly reminders that my neighbor across the way has a new girlfriend.
  3. I get nervous if I neglect my Sims (and it’s Sims Freeplay, the horrible second rate game)
  4. I have a Groupon for a toenail fungus laser treatment.
  5. I am a gum lover who has given up gum.
  6. That Fact about That Friend which is super weird and distracting and makes me want to go back in time, just before he revealed said fact, and shush the hell out of him.
  7. I know what it’s like to get Shingles twice!

This post and the last post were designed make you love me despite everything!