Saturday, December 31, 2005
jessica alba is not smart.
maybe she is, but i just don't think she plays a smart person very well.
"those solar winds have been picking up..."
it's ALMOST as fun as watching tara reid play a smart person in the movie "alone in the dark." ALMOST.
some prime quotes:
"he does the talkin', i do all the walkin'."
holy god, jessica alba SUCKS.
ooh, a BITCHIN' extreme sport scene...what a SHOCK!
marvel comics, why have you forsaken us?
"those solar winds have been picking up..."
it's ALMOST as fun as watching tara reid play a smart person in the movie "alone in the dark." ALMOST.
some prime quotes:
"he does the talkin', i do all the walkin'."
holy god, jessica alba SUCKS.
ooh, a BITCHIN' extreme sport scene...what a SHOCK!
marvel comics, why have you forsaken us?
happy new year, folks!
guess what tastes not as bad as you think together?
white grenache and salt-n-vinegar chips! purely discovered by accident but you know what? i'm not stoppin' either one! call it determination...
kidding. i'm not getting rock-star trashed on new year's eve -- i've got a kid to hang out with, some chips to eat and some movies to watch. hurrah!
white grenache and salt-n-vinegar chips! purely discovered by accident but you know what? i'm not stoppin' either one! call it determination...
kidding. i'm not getting rock-star trashed on new year's eve -- i've got a kid to hang out with, some chips to eat and some movies to watch. hurrah!
movies i still need to see
"walk the line."
"brokeback mountain."
"cheaper by the dozen 2."
"matchpoint."
(one of thes is not actually something i'll see...can you guess?)
"brokeback mountain."
"cheaper by the dozen 2."
"matchpoint."
(one of thes is not actually something i'll see...can you guess?)
an audio post explanation
kiddo got two copies of "charlie and the chocolate factory" for cmas this year. she returned one today and in exchange, purchased the Narnia soundtrack and a cape. that's right, i said "cape." it's a darth vadar cape that was on clearance and she emerged from her room, making her vadar noise. so that warranted a post.
just now, she ran off and tossed her cape my way, saying "can you hold my cape? vadar needs to use the bathroom."
she'll be delighted i posted that last bit.
just now, she ran off and tossed her cape my way, saying "can you hold my cape? vadar needs to use the bathroom."
she'll be delighted i posted that last bit.
Thursday, December 29, 2005
thank you, former owners!
the people who owned this house before us left a chair. an avacado green vinyl recliner. it was on the second floor when moved in and since that time, it has sat in my bedroom, across from my bed. it's purpose, until just moments ago, was that of a clothing rack. wait. that makes it sound organized. it was a spot for me to toss clothing that i didn't wear in usual rotation and that i was too lazy to put away. well tonight i was sitting in bed, lamenting over the loss of a few paragraphs because microsoft word sucks ass and froze up, and i saw the chair. the chair saw me. we regarded each other. i decided to clean off the chair ("clean" meaning "toss crap onto floor") and have a sit.
and now i am. i'm having a sit. my feet are elevated and my cats are pissed they can't sit on it, too. but this is my chair. my green chair that provides firm back support for a girl who writes.
thinking back on my life, i don't think i've ever been capable of keeping a bedroom tidy. given the numerous things i could be doing with my time (blogging, reading blogs, watching movies, etc.), it seems silly to devote SO MUCH TIME to a place where i really only sleep. it's not the living room, where i spend much of my day. it's not the kitchen, where i make and consume food. it's a room where i keep my clothes and i sleep.
even growing up, however, i never kept my room clean. i had hours of phone conversations to have with boys my parents didn't approve of, hair to make poofy, tapes to mix and bad poetry to write. i spent most waking moments in my room, but even then it seemed like a wase of time to clean it up.
(on itunes now: "chances are" by johnny mathis.)
from where i'm sitting i can see a bookshelf on my left that is home to a few different journals. uh oh..i'm feeling a journal entry coming on!
this journal i receivved from my lovely, wonderful, amazing friend matt, whom i met at moorhead state univ. in 1993. i first saw matt at an english club meeting and he lived in my dorm on the floor for older students -- he was 23, i think, i was 18. i was walking back to my dorm and i saw this guy -- this total hippie -- walking back to the same dorm through the grass with no shoes on. i eventually passed him and i was whistling, and i distinctly remember him sort of whistling along with me. he was (and still is, if memory serves) absolutely brilliant and stunning and beautiful. i had a crush on him for about 20 minutes, then realized that this wonderful man would become a best friend of mine. and he did. he used to call me pokey tok, for illicit reasons. the day i left moorhead state, all my friends helped me pack up my stuff into my parent's minivan and all of a sudden, after already saying goodbye to my matt, he ran out from behind the dorm to say goodbye again.
i've not thought about that in a long time. anyhow, he gave me the journal on march 20, 1994.
--------
3/20/94
i have struggled so long to get to this point, and now i have to up and leave. will he ever know what he does to me? [AM TRYING TO RECALL WHO THE "HE" WAS]
do i tell him or do i wait for him to miss me first? [OK. I REMEMBER NOW. HMM.] my stomach hurts, i feel like crying. no, i feel like smoking. i'm going to tell my dad eventually, as the cigarette butts MIGHT give it away. so much to unpack. so much to lose. nothing to give.
[the inevitable decline of kari begins around this point. watch for the fun!]
3/23/94
where am i at? are you there? will i be gone when i get there? what is this ripping feeling? why can't it leave me alone? why is this in me? who put this here?
this is me. this is what i fear. i fear myself. i fear the monster i just saw i fear the mosnters in my closet the monsters in my head. they are yelling at me, telling me things that are untrue. i am scared of everything.
[later that day]
i'm watching my sister meg sleep. how can she be related to me? she is so little and pure and unknowing. this beautiful, tempermental creature is just sleeping. i wonder if i will have one like her one day? how would my life be different without her? i don't want to imagine, i can't imagine. what i wouldn't give for her. i would lay down my worthless life for hers. she inspires me to continue living.
3/25/94
it's all unfolding around me. i still have no control. everything is spinning around in a sick and twisted whirlwind of colors and images of smiles and screams.
[the entries are interrupted by really, really shitty poetry that i don't think anyone needs to read.]
then there are a few letters written to boys that were never sent. a nice little excerpt:
"to you i'm a consolation prize, a friend when no one else can stand you. and now i'm nothing. fuck you."
-----
a few more journals sitting on the shelf, but why have too much fun in one night, right?
and now i am. i'm having a sit. my feet are elevated and my cats are pissed they can't sit on it, too. but this is my chair. my green chair that provides firm back support for a girl who writes.
thinking back on my life, i don't think i've ever been capable of keeping a bedroom tidy. given the numerous things i could be doing with my time (blogging, reading blogs, watching movies, etc.), it seems silly to devote SO MUCH TIME to a place where i really only sleep. it's not the living room, where i spend much of my day. it's not the kitchen, where i make and consume food. it's a room where i keep my clothes and i sleep.
even growing up, however, i never kept my room clean. i had hours of phone conversations to have with boys my parents didn't approve of, hair to make poofy, tapes to mix and bad poetry to write. i spent most waking moments in my room, but even then it seemed like a wase of time to clean it up.
(on itunes now: "chances are" by johnny mathis.)
from where i'm sitting i can see a bookshelf on my left that is home to a few different journals. uh oh..i'm feeling a journal entry coming on!
this journal i receivved from my lovely, wonderful, amazing friend matt, whom i met at moorhead state univ. in 1993. i first saw matt at an english club meeting and he lived in my dorm on the floor for older students -- he was 23, i think, i was 18. i was walking back to my dorm and i saw this guy -- this total hippie -- walking back to the same dorm through the grass with no shoes on. i eventually passed him and i was whistling, and i distinctly remember him sort of whistling along with me. he was (and still is, if memory serves) absolutely brilliant and stunning and beautiful. i had a crush on him for about 20 minutes, then realized that this wonderful man would become a best friend of mine. and he did. he used to call me pokey tok, for illicit reasons. the day i left moorhead state, all my friends helped me pack up my stuff into my parent's minivan and all of a sudden, after already saying goodbye to my matt, he ran out from behind the dorm to say goodbye again.
i've not thought about that in a long time. anyhow, he gave me the journal on march 20, 1994.
--------
3/20/94
i have struggled so long to get to this point, and now i have to up and leave. will he ever know what he does to me? [AM TRYING TO RECALL WHO THE "HE" WAS]
do i tell him or do i wait for him to miss me first? [OK. I REMEMBER NOW. HMM.] my stomach hurts, i feel like crying. no, i feel like smoking. i'm going to tell my dad eventually, as the cigarette butts MIGHT give it away. so much to unpack. so much to lose. nothing to give.
[the inevitable decline of kari begins around this point. watch for the fun!]
3/23/94
where am i at? are you there? will i be gone when i get there? what is this ripping feeling? why can't it leave me alone? why is this in me? who put this here?
this is me. this is what i fear. i fear myself. i fear the monster i just saw i fear the mosnters in my closet the monsters in my head. they are yelling at me, telling me things that are untrue. i am scared of everything.
[later that day]
i'm watching my sister meg sleep. how can she be related to me? she is so little and pure and unknowing. this beautiful, tempermental creature is just sleeping. i wonder if i will have one like her one day? how would my life be different without her? i don't want to imagine, i can't imagine. what i wouldn't give for her. i would lay down my worthless life for hers. she inspires me to continue living.
3/25/94
it's all unfolding around me. i still have no control. everything is spinning around in a sick and twisted whirlwind of colors and images of smiles and screams.
[the entries are interrupted by really, really shitty poetry that i don't think anyone needs to read.]
then there are a few letters written to boys that were never sent. a nice little excerpt:
"to you i'm a consolation prize, a friend when no one else can stand you. and now i'm nothing. fuck you."
-----
a few more journals sitting on the shelf, but why have too much fun in one night, right?
dready kari
dready kari
Originally uploaded by kllnin.
if i had dreadlocks (and was fifty pounds lighter), i would look like this.
the Millenium episode is all gold
Scully: And besides 2001 is actually the start of the new millennium.
Mulder: Nobody likes a math geek, Scully.
Mulder: Nobody likes a math geek, Scully.
x files effing ROCKS
so i'm watching more of season seven, and there are some i've not seen before. and they are really freaking good. so this is my thursday night.
denise levertov is a good poet
props to andy for bringing denise levertov to my attention.
Losing track
Long after you have swung back
away from me
I think you are still with me:
you come in close to the shore
on the tide
and nudge me awake the way
a boat adrift nudges the pier:
am I a pier
half-in half-out of the water?
and in the pleasure of that communion
I lose track,
the moon I watch goes down, the
tide swings you away before
I know I'm
alone again long since,
mud sucking at gray and black
timbers of me,
a light growth of green dreams drying.
Losing track
Long after you have swung back
away from me
I think you are still with me:
you come in close to the shore
on the tide
and nudge me awake the way
a boat adrift nudges the pier:
am I a pier
half-in half-out of the water?
and in the pleasure of that communion
I lose track,
the moon I watch goes down, the
tide swings you away before
I know I'm
alone again long since,
mud sucking at gray and black
timbers of me,
a light growth of green dreams drying.
Wednesday, December 28, 2005
my favorite book...
is "the unbearable lightness of being" by milan kundera. and the following passage will show why...
"He kept recalling her lying on his bed; she reminded him of no one in his former life. She was neither mistress nor wife. She was a child whom he had taken from a bulrush basket that had been daubed with pitch and sent to the riverbank of his bed. She fell asleep. He knelt down next to her. Her feverous breath quickened and she gave out a quick moan. He pressed his face to hers and whispered calming words into her sleep. After a while he felt her breath return to normal and her face rise unconsciously to meet his. He smelled the delicate aroma of her fever and breathed it in, as if trying to glut himself with the intimacy of her body. And all at once he fancied she had been with him for many years and was dying. He had a sudden clear feeling that he would not survive her death. He would lie down beside her and wnat to die with her..."
beautiful stuff, that. and here's more:
"We can never know what to want, because, living only one life, we can neither compare it with our previous lives nor perfect it in our lives to come."
and:
"Einmal ist keinmal, says Tomas to himself. What happens but once, says the German adage, might as well not have happeneed at all. If we only have one life to live, we might as well not have lived at all."
oh, and why not:
"Tomas did not realize at the time that metaphors are dangerous. Metaphors are not to be trifled with. A single metaphor can give birth to love."
and since we're at it:
"Tomas came to this conclusion: Making love with a woman and sleeping with a woman are two separate passions, not merely different but opposite. Love does not make itself felt in the desire for copulation (a desire that extends to an infinite number of women) but in the desire for shared sleep (a desire limited to one woman.)"
"He kept recalling her lying on his bed; she reminded him of no one in his former life. She was neither mistress nor wife. She was a child whom he had taken from a bulrush basket that had been daubed with pitch and sent to the riverbank of his bed. She fell asleep. He knelt down next to her. Her feverous breath quickened and she gave out a quick moan. He pressed his face to hers and whispered calming words into her sleep. After a while he felt her breath return to normal and her face rise unconsciously to meet his. He smelled the delicate aroma of her fever and breathed it in, as if trying to glut himself with the intimacy of her body. And all at once he fancied she had been with him for many years and was dying. He had a sudden clear feeling that he would not survive her death. He would lie down beside her and wnat to die with her..."
beautiful stuff, that. and here's more:
"We can never know what to want, because, living only one life, we can neither compare it with our previous lives nor perfect it in our lives to come."
and:
"Einmal ist keinmal, says Tomas to himself. What happens but once, says the German adage, might as well not have happeneed at all. If we only have one life to live, we might as well not have lived at all."
oh, and why not:
"Tomas did not realize at the time that metaphors are dangerous. Metaphors are not to be trifled with. A single metaphor can give birth to love."
and since we're at it:
"Tomas came to this conclusion: Making love with a woman and sleeping with a woman are two separate passions, not merely different but opposite. Love does not make itself felt in the desire for copulation (a desire that extends to an infinite number of women) but in the desire for shared sleep (a desire limited to one woman.)"
X FILES!!!
i heart x files. but i have mixed feelings about the later seasons.
but this one has duchovny! yay!
he just makes the later seasons look SO below-average.
"bear with us, cause we're old and stupid." his delivery is delightful.
david duchovny: read out of a phonebook, record it, and i'll buy it.
------------
other thoughts...
movies i need to see (and i can't believe i've not seen yet):
"brokeback mountain"
"walk the line"
i need to get on that.
but for now, it's xfiles time.
but this one has duchovny! yay!
he just makes the later seasons look SO below-average.
"bear with us, cause we're old and stupid." his delivery is delightful.
david duchovny: read out of a phonebook, record it, and i'll buy it.
------------
other thoughts...
movies i need to see (and i can't believe i've not seen yet):
"brokeback mountain"
"walk the line"
i need to get on that.
but for now, it's xfiles time.
movie night for MOI
"my grammy never gave gifts. she was too busy being raped by cossacks."
again, Annie Hall is a great fucking movie.
what is YOUR favorite line from Annie Hall?
(and if you haven't seen it, well what in the hell are you waiting for???)
again, Annie Hall is a great fucking movie.
what is YOUR favorite line from Annie Hall?
(and if you haven't seen it, well what in the hell are you waiting for???)
what are you watching right now?
why, i'm watching "annie hall." and i'll be eating chocolate covered cherries any minute now. they are Cella's, and that means they lack that creepy white filling.
i'll also be drinking some wine shortly.
"for god sakes, alvie, even freud speaks of a latency period!"
this movie kicks ass.
i'll also be drinking some wine shortly.
"for god sakes, alvie, even freud speaks of a latency period!"
this movie kicks ass.
Tuesday, December 27, 2005
fear factor for families? eww.
that is just fucked up all over the place.
second interview was more of an orientation, as the main hirer person couldn't make it in, and i found out that i'm the only one they are looking at for the gig....
but don't uncross those fingers yet. hopefully i'll know for certain in the next week or so.
(happy dance!)
second interview was more of an orientation, as the main hirer person couldn't make it in, and i found out that i'm the only one they are looking at for the gig....
but don't uncross those fingers yet. hopefully i'll know for certain in the next week or so.
(happy dance!)
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
Posts
