long, long, before the word 'blog' was a
twinkle... there was...
the second decade
l e c t r o n i c pen ...
25 2008 no. 77.1
so the 'kid' across the
street has a girlfriend. (!) and they're leaving the house out of the
garage and little Nancy runs out after them, "brother, brother, i want
to give you a hug" she says and gives him a big hug. then when her mom
was coming down the street, she was so excited, ran to get her bike and
fell. poot thing.
glorious day on the mountain picnicing
in the sun with about 55 other thousand people; chloe was poopooped and
conked out on the way home and is conked still. poor thing.
nothing mind blowing tonight except a
very red nose and some ringing ears. the flowers are put to bed wet and
even the solar lamps came on tonight.
a bit of rita in the sun is really all the doctor ever orders.
the house is dark. parts of it snore.
the days are long. where is the camera, don't know.
lovely dinner and a 40 dollar tip on the cake. you have to get a nice
cake after fifty years.
there's something else i wanted to say.
oh. it's night.
23 2008 no. 76
my kid eats.
so i do a quick search for chicken salad and come up with this freaky
looking recipe containing mangos, yogurt, lime juice, dijon mustard,
and about a cup of tumeric.
i didn't use all the chicken as I
planned to mix up a more normal looking batch for her (and for me, this
stuff was just putrid looking). I actually tasted it , yeeeick!
so the family arrives home and chloe jumps on her stool to see what was
going on. She picks up the spoon I'd been mixing it with a licks it.
Yummy! she says. Then she sits down and devours her whole plate
including an extra pile of fresh mango bits.
21 2008 no. 75
from Seven Principles of
20 2008 no. 74
i feel as if i've
known her all my life
you must love me....
15 2008 no. 73
ringing ears back at home. inspired inspired; it's fleeting so i'll
capitalize on it.
rebuilding energy is peaking, i'm speaking french in the car and
concentrating on communicating.
there's a certain irony in that i'm having a hard time communicating
the type of communication.
language helps. good language is essential. but there's more to it.
understanding your motivations; understanding the weight of each word;
i do it well here, in silence, deep in thought, but it's more difficult
out in the real world.
at the end of a long interview about certain complicated environmental
issues, he said "Anna-Maria, Thank you for a delightful interview"
Does he say the same thing at the end of every interview? It sounded so
genuine, so heartfelt. the genius in his entire interview was to me,
less about his area of expertise, which he studies, discusses, and
writes about every day, but in throwing out that sentance, out of
context, without hesitation, in such a genuine way, marking the end of
the interview with a totally decorative period, and leaving me with a
sense of beauty in his words.
so which 80,000 am i part of?
12 2008 no. 72
this is what greets us outside!
09 2008 no. 70.1
am i the only person
who obsesses about 'the right thing to think'?
why the assumption that there is a 'right thing' to think?
driving by a woman, she's crossing the
street, she's poor, she's proud, she's unhealthy. plastic purse tucked
neatly under her right arm, she has every right to cross the street.
yet i'm sitting in my car. obsessing. my options drive quickly thru my
mind: pity? prayer? pride? what is the right thing to think, i think.
give her the shirt off my back? give her my life? try to change hers? i
say another quick prayer. what is the RIGHT thing to think, it's been
bugging me all day. and these scenarios run around in circles in my
mind, day after day after city day...
08 2008 no. 70
i oppose this
automated assumption that i drink low-fat milk because every
intelligent-thinking grown women should.
i drink 3.25% milk. it fucking tastes better.
02 2008 no. 69
both sides now
moons and junes and
the dizzy dancing way i feel
as every fairy tail comes real
i've looked at life that way
you better let somebody love you
before it's too late
i always feel like i'm in between. i
just noticed that.
i'm in between the past and the future. it's a bit 'coinc? in here.
01 2008 no. 68
it is spring now
poofy clouds, are
they summery or snow clouds, hard to tell.
it's still a glorious spring morning as i drive thru the city watching
people go this way and that.
hotel california plays on the radio, is
it really changing my mood?
there are two windows from which to view this world, this life;
in one, we are robots, pre-programmed, mindlessly numbing along
through the other, each parent and child, free in the global sense,
organized and purposefully executing their duties lovingly
and the crossing guards (brigadiers in quebec) even moreso;
the black woman driving the bus has overcome huge historical boundaries;
and my own sense of purpose begins to be raised up with each "such a
lovely place, such a lovely place..."
you never can tell what will motivate
you, from one day to the next.
I feel alot better than i did yesterday
and that's a good thing.
personal incorporation update.
8 invoices sent.
8 Invoices paid.
visa card is very shiny.
working at home means
i get to actually live.
i can pick up the paper when i hear that Dr. Orbinksi is on the cover
of the life section
know what genocide looks like
it means i watch the
rain hit the linden tree.
means i know when
the mailman comes.
it means i can wait for fedex to deliver the registration papers for
and it means i can remember to take something out of the freezer for
and in the "WTF" department...
on the side
of my Glysomed Foot Balm tube:
"Used daily, it works to keep even the roughest skin looking and
feeling soft and revitalized"
DAILY? are you
are there really people who have time to rub cream on their heels
an open letter to james orbinski
dear m. orbinski.
i'm having a hard time
reading your book but having a hard time putting it down.
in it, you describe things worse than hell
itself. yet in describing
them, reveal a piece of heaven, w
hich is the hope you
manage to harbour
in spite of it all.
for much of my life i have struggled to understand violence; hate;
and although your book does little to help me understand
(in fact i hope i never do),
it opens a window that provides such a first-hand account that prevents
me from pretending they maybe don't really happen.
it's a window that i have been gazing through for days now, via your
words, in an attempt to become closer to a resolution,
a window that i must stare at for as long as i need to to convince
myself that someone, someday, can put an end to it.
have been trying, but i am having a hard time finding the words that i
want to write to explain how this book is changing my belief in MSF,
even though I have been donating money monthly for several years.
somehow it creates a very real link between the 'organization' the
'politics' and the humanity.
the words in your book are haunting, and to be honest, i have a hard
time really believing and understanding that these things happen on my
planet. in a sense, that's not the planet i live on. it's certainly not
part of my world - and that is what makes your devotion so
unbelievable. you are also from my planet. in fact, you grew up a few
blocks from where i sit. you chose to leave this world and join that
one; what an unbelievable gift you give to both worlds in doing so.
ray of Hope
It really is difficult to find words to describe the hope that this
book gives. Although it describes deeply disturbing and difficult to
comprehend suffering, it is written by a man who continually describes
himself as 'a man' but describes situations in where his behaviour and
devotion come straight from heaven. "A human perspective on suffering"
just doesn't do this book justice. this book provides the decidely
un-human (meaning more than human) perspective and unbelievable
willingness to accept hope in the face of evidence that there should be
none. It is mandatory reading.
, April 26 2008
take what you need to take, from who you need to take it from
on hyperparenting: why does everything need to be perfect?
maybe a little about only one child, but alot about very little time....
places i've been
thanks for facebook
does purity like this still exist?
sometime in march
staring at blank screens again
definately require self-stimulation
definately need motivation from within...
incorporation. week I.
ok. now what?
let's see if i can
find the time to chronicle the path to independance.
what' the worst that can happen.
ongoing articles in
the Atlantic and the LA times this month are debating the proverbial
'why do we have babies' question; and yes i would say that most people,
in the same way that they don't know why they want a Louis Vuitton bag,
don't know why they want babies - although i admit that the baby thing
is perhaps more deeply engrained into the human condition. having said
that, it's not engrained into me. recently, i thought long and very
hard about what finally drove me, us, to take the plunge into
chloe-dom, and i came to the undying conclusion that it simply was the
natural progression of the expression of our love.
thirty years ago, i
today is one of those days that that kind of stuff matters.
cuddled up in our big bed with her, i mentioned that danny lived with
grandma when i was a kid. she was confused. why doesn't he still live
there she asked. i couldn't bring myself to tell her that susan,
ronnie, and bobby also lived there. i guess everyone who thinks has
things that are too heartbreaking to tell their children. that's mine.
in other news.
i've developed a weird circle of acquaintenances, in spite of
myself.now i don't mean weird but i mean unusual. and i don't mean
unusual either. let's call them multidisciplinarian. overnight. these
things can happen, if you reach out. if you're unemployed. if you're
seeking, unsure, lucky.
the swiss neighbours are neighbourly. luckily. it's been a long while.
they drink beer and surf the web alot. wow. refreshing. i guess we're a
bit like them.
1996 - 2007