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Sat, May. 17th, 2008, 01:06 pm
from when I was in College at UGA
a guide to truly doing things last minute. 1) make sure that you have just enough done in the project you are working on in order that you feel a false sense of preparedness 2) play a soccer game, write another paper besides the project work you have to do---later, eat dinner with friends, discuss life, philosophize with folks and oneself, drink some champagne, drink some wine...then begin the paper/project 3) upon beginning the project, being in it for the long haul, change CDs a few times so that you are constantly leaving youk station; if you can do this from your work station, go get a glass of water, make coffee, or take out the trash. (I didn't make coffee or take out the trash, I just hought about it) 4) take a nap. This is essential, no questions. 5) wake up every 30 minutes or so and think about what you still have to do 6) talk to any accomplices you might have in the project and/or procrastination. Call them every once in a while; ask: "how's it going there?" listen to answer; ask again, "so how's it really going with the project?" then, discuss a few of the other things you have acomplished: "yah, I clipped my toenails too." 7) last minute scramble begins in the last three hours of work; work like you've never worked before 8) breathe in...hey, what smells good? check if anyone has made you breakfast. 9) probably not to the breakfast; tell your stomach to behave itself; keep writing/working 10) go to class, not the one you have to turn the project into, just to take a nap and think how pointless the class is sometimes 10b) get on bus to go to class, so that you can enjoy hanging onto the "oh shit" bar for dear life, or at least so that you don't drop your banana a second time onto a sitting bus person's lap. 10c) say something a little perverted to get the twenty people squished upa against you to relax and stand away from you 10d) make sure you have something good smelling on while on the bus 11) back to work, one hour left; kick the person at the computer terminal in front of you a few times 12) write as if lyour life is a keyboard, and you have to keep typing to keep the blood pumping 13) occasionally shuffle papers around beside you so that your neighbors know you are not trying to take up three work stations; just reminding them what a scholar looks like. 14) ask the computer lab if they have scissors; ask them to replace the staples, ask them where you can put money on an ID card to print out your 25 pages of work 15) mumble to yourself 16) find a stranger and ask her or him if you can use her or his card to print 17) smile and say thank you; look at the time, sigh 18) find a friend, ah, or someone you know in passing 19) panic when you realize there is no way to put money on her card; breath and thank her and God that she has money to print out your stuff 20) print leave some compensation for the saving soul, and go 21) run to class, make sure thongs aren't pulling pants along with them, slow down enough to look calm when walking past window and into full classroom 22) after the brief class, ask if anyone has scissors, especially if they have the same name as you do 23) if same name thing does not work, tell TA that it's a mess 23) although, TA doesn't care and would like to go work on his three 15 page each papers and begin grading this project, tear printed summaries apart and place them in the correct plastic sleeves in your project notebook 24) walk home thinking about next writing assignment (a little more writing to do today, for a literary magazine) Sat, May. 17th, 2008, 11:57 am
luck be that lady
I guess my car is a girl; I haven't named her yet, however I really haven't found any reason to call her anything yet. The new AK plates say FJD, fudged, hmm? The sparrows are playing outside, looping and eating mosquitoes. I am headed on the road again with Beta. We'll walk in Anchorage. I have to get as much stuff out of the homestead as I can; then it can be with friends in Anchor towne. Wish me luck. This lady continues, one foot in front of the other. This time I ain't fall'n.
Sat, May. 17th, 2008, 01:40 am
as it goes
Wow, Can I have any more adventures tonight, please? I bought a car today, a toyota cressida. I pronounce it Cre seda, cause that sounds cool to me. That's me... mm hmm. Bought the car from a nice man who has a son age 6 who likes to play frisbee. Here's the long and short of this story. It gets tangled and strange and sad, and honestly, I have had a day that is so good and so bad all rolled into one 12 hour period of time. I was late for my radio show and knew I would be, so dj Alan took over and I played "southern girl," Better than Ezra, and "feel like a sex machine," James Brown within the final ten minutes of my show. Alan played a nice varie--tie, and I enjoyed just playing a few songs and making my cameo. I decided to take my house charge, the young, the lovely, Beta-brown dog on a walk. We walked down Main Street, Talkeetna, and I saw friends. They recognized Beta before me, that's how it goes. One friend says, "we're going too." I look at her with sudden realization that she does not mean to the beach, the river. She is going to the gallery. It is incredible, I know. New paint, great signs, beautiful art, cool artists...one so cool it makes my back ache the way your head does when you eat ice cream or a popsicle. Brain freeze. Body freeze. Fuck an A squad car (thanks McCarthy, AK man). One of his ex-girlfriends is behind the counter with my ex-boyfriend. Triple X, my god. She asks him to lift a bottle (a five gallon jug, the kind we got our spring water in all winter) so that she can have some water in her former wine cup. There is maybe half a gallon in this plastic jug. It is as heavy as a head of lettuce perhaps. I watch. My former boyfriend says, "they're actually making me work." I say nothing. I buy cards from another artist--six instead of three because my FB did not have change. I feel shitty. I can't help it. "Are you OK?" he asks. "That's quite a question. I can't believe you are asking that," I say. Since Monday evening when he got to his homestead, found my note "contact me when you are able" and realized I was finally gone, he has not tried to contact me. I tell him. "If you want to hear a story sometime, let me know." I miss Eddy, the wonderful female chocolate lab Chris belongs to. I miss what I had before it went bad, so bad. Tonight, the man who sold me his car came by my house-sitting gig on their way to Fairbanks. His son and I played frisbee. I had wanted to play frisbee with Chris. Chris says I wanted too much. Always, "I want," he says. I made sandwiches for father and son to take on their adventure. This man spoke of his fiance. I spoke of my former boyfriend. I guess we bonded more over frisbee. I wanted too much, and that is exactly what I ended up getting from my relationship with Chris. He says that painters paint when they are happy,, they paint joy, and writers write about their sadness. I guess I just think we are all full of it. At least I can laugh even when the stories are not funny to others. Maybe that means I am not a good writer. However, I know I ain't a comedian. What a show. As it goes. Good night.
Fri, May. 16th, 2008, 11:54 am
a bit like...
Not sure where I am going with that. Lately, metaphors are what my brain has been working in, to pass the time, to ease the pain. The latest news is, as a friend of mine said to me when I first met the former boyfriend/partner, "things have a way of always working out really well for you." Es verdad. I will be living in east Talkeetna, just as I have lived in East Anchorage and East Asheville. Looking toward the east, looking toward the sunrise. Well, actually it rises in the south here. I will be living in a big cabin, doing some work on it, having electricity...whoa. Things are good. Broken hearts lead to stronger backs.
Thu, May. 15th, 2008, 10:31 pm
To Each His Own
My mom used to say that when something didn't fit in with the way she had thought of things with someone. I learned to accept that my mom accepted people generally.: "To each his own," she'd say. She is pretty good about that. With me, she kind of needs help; there are so many things about me that she would not like to see but really when it comes down to it she is only seeing a small percentage... So, the latest in my life should be out and open. We've broken up, not you and I, but he and I. So, I needed to leave his homestead and on monday (two weeks after the break) I hitchhiked out of town. The first two rides were with people I knew. In fact, I settled a job situation with the first. Woo hoo, bar-tending in a cool local pub. The second ride was with people who work with my now ex-boyfriend. Then it was cake after that. Three different cars, three interesting characters; nothing sketchy. I made it to the car that I was to borrow for a few days so that I could go car shopping, and from there, it was a bit simpler. I guess simple is not the word right now, however, here's the amazing part, with which I will end. While on the phone seeking advice on Monday, when I knew I could no longer stay where I was once at ease, I received a phone call that changed many things for me. "Grace, could you house-sit and take care of our dog while we are gone?" It was an unexpected change of life for these friends and they needed to leave for a few days. I write to you from there--from where I am house-sitting, and amazingly enough I even write to you with a peaceful frame of mind. To each his own. It is what it is. Thank you my friends.
Wed, Apr. 30th, 2008, 06:22 pm
All you need is a little attitude
At least, that is what I am learning. I have a friend who has a lot on his mind, so much so that he is unable to talk with another friend about certain important parts of his life, the goings on. I believe it all has to do with attitude. He's got a negative one right now. He doesn't seem to want to embrace some of the good that has come into his life. It's strange. I can't put my finger on it, and I am sure I can't help him, however, I know that in time, he will discover what he needs to have the positive again. If you have any suggestions, let me know.
Wed, Apr. 30th, 2008, 06:09 pm
life has a little soundtrack
"It's in your he-ad, in your he-e-e-ead..." I am listening to an interview with Ira Glass. My friend Lillia had the chance to participate in a phone interview with the incredible This American Life host. Go to Link in Greenville, SCI do believe you will enjoy this. Last year, with Lillia and another journalist (I was the odd woman in), I had the chance to listen and watch Ira on stage in Asheville, NC. He inspired, kicked you in the butt and made sure that you realized you CAN do what you love. You CAN accomplish this. It takes work; it takes spunk; it takes all of you. Go out, get with it, and make it happen. I myself will keep on keep'n on trying.
Wed, Apr. 30th, 2008, 11:35 am
not enough fish in the sea
Sounds like we have really messed things up now. Our planet is in disarray. There are metric tons of plastic floating in the sea and here we are still opening soft drinks in soft plastic containers, unwrapping our food from sealed, hard to tear/easy to cut packages, and using plastic to put the fresh baked cookies in for our neighbors.
Did I mention the plastic cork and label on that cheap bottle of wine we're about to commiserate over. Sounds like we need change. Changes. I personally need changes in so many ways that you can read it in my body language. I know it from my back pain.
Sometimes changes are difficult to figure out. Where do I start in making this change? I personally am doing the deadline thing, like the United Nations. If weapons of mass destruction aren't outta here by the fall, then we'll reconvene and look into...another deadline.
Mon, Apr. 28th, 2008, 05:55 pm
Water water everywhere...
And plenty to drink. I was supposed to write about my neigbors and some recent conversations at their home; a cheap beer being fuel; however, I decided to just get on and write write write and see where I go. I will tell you the other story soon.
Check out this website to hear some stories read by me here in Talkeetna. http://wholewheatradio.com/wiki/index.php/Main_Page
For now: the trails are beautiful; snow in my shoes. Gotta sign off or this I will lose. Sun, Apr. 6th, 2008, 01:17 pm
Get your undies in a tangle
A friend told me this story recently. Her son saw a birthday gift she received from her sister. It was underwear from victoria's. Her son said to his mom, "Mom, I don't want you to wear those." She laughed and asked why. He is eight years old and protective of his mother. "Those underwear are inappropriate for you mom." He said that, he used the word inappropriate. My friend laughs. The story continues. "I was looking for my bra before work one morning, and he said, 'I'll help you find it, mom.' We look around the house and finally he leads me to his bed. All my underwear and the few bras I own are stuffed beneath his pillow." My friend goes on to say that she had a talk with him about needing a bra "at my age, after having two kids." He listens, and he gives mom her underwear, however not with zeal. He is a bit protective of his mom. However, I do wonder, why did he stick everything under his pillow; he must have seen something at a friend's house.
Sun, Apr. 6th, 2008, 12:39 pm
Slush Fun and Alien Green Thumbs
Break up is occurring here at break-neck speed. It snowed all day Saturday; over in Anchorage, they were to get 5-11 inches, quite a range. Yet on the whole, it is quite slushy here, muddy in places. It was recommended that I walk the 2.5 miles I typically bike in order to meet my ride to work. I guess that is an option, no snow shoes required. I sit here drinking from a coffee mug that says "you're only young once--but you can be immature forever" promising no? This month, I am working in a greenhouse for some local farmers. This job requires me to know that a bacoba looks different than a lobellia (pre flowers they look alike from afar). And that Canary Bird Vine, that is not Sweat Pea, although I do believe they both climb. I was told by my boss that "everyone knows what a Sweat Pea look like;" whoops. I love plants, green things are good for the lungs...take that in any way you want; point is, I love trying to identify all the Alaskan plants during the summer, but greenhouse plants are foreign to me; it's like being inside a spaceship. "We'll be using insecticide soon; please be aware earthlings." "Gently, move the soil to place the roots inside, they do not like to push their roots through packed soil." I learn a little bit each day. More interesting really, is how I get to work. You already know that I bike from where I live to the main road, the Talkeetna Spur Road. My boss told me that one of my co-workers was going to need to pass by my road, so I could get a ride with him. I will call him Torrence. He was called by all Talkeetna people who know him, Jim, however he asked me to call him by his real first name. No problem. I told my boss that I really appreciated her "getting me hooked up with a ride with Torrance, Yo!" She looked at me cock-chined. "Who is that?" For a moment I wondered if I was being abducted, after all it did feel like an alien spacecraft I entered every morning...the so called Greenhouse, yeah "Oh, well, he asked me to call him Torrence, not Jim." She looked at me, suddenly fear striking her dirt covered features. "Yikes, maybe he wants everyone to call him Torrence." Turns out, he does. I made some assumptions before I met him. One, that he would have a truck in which I could throw my bike in the bed. (Poor Grammer, I apologize.) It turned out true. Secondly, I thought he would be a man who lived in a kind of isolated way. This was also true. In a year, he has come into Talkeetna town once. I like him, he puts up with me in the morning and after work when he drops me off for my uphills climb home. In the scheme of things, my abductions go well.
Sat, Mar. 22nd, 2008, 10:44 pm
Wyoming
If you just so happened to have clicked on my location from a few weeks ago; Sheep Creek Lodge, you will notice that it is slightly north and east of Yellowstone National Park. That is not where I am however, the computer decided that it would put me there; I was googled into a place before I had any say in it. Amazing really. Updates: I am just going to journal today, no trying to be clever or witty, I will save that for my pen and paper. Happy Easter first off. Chris doesn't do Easter, so I should just keep all the chocolate eggs away from him. I won't though; chocolate should be shared. I have done a little Greenhouse gardening for some Talkeetnans who sell plants to big places in Anchorage, thus we get the soil ready now and transfer seedlings by the first week of April. I am in need (I hate to say it but it would help me out here) of a car. This would help. For my summer job Woo Hoo, I will be working with the Alaska Soil and Water Conservation as an assistant trail leader for the Youth Conservation Corps that does trail work for the summer. Quite cool. Hope to get to the east coast in the fall; I have not spent a summer there since 2003 and I was in and out often at that time after college graduation: Chicago, LA, New Orleans, Grayton Beach, etc...ah memories. Looking forward to summer here. Spring comes in early May and lasts 10 days. It is definitely warmer: 40, snow melting a bit; good crust skiing I am learning. Radio show still going. Got to play some of my friend Jane Lee's son's music. He plays the Blues. I will be better on details later. Battling "spring" cold so I am signing off to go take some IB prof for my headache. Ciao.
Tue, Mar. 11th, 2008, 06:48 pm
and...
This is just a reminder, shrimp is better complimented by white wine, not red. I am pulling a Sacks (a restaurant where friends work in Anchorage; I go there to write and socialize, can you imagine which one I am better at?) So, here I am, after filling our four 5-gallon water containers, wanting to write, not sure what to write. I am wearing my glasses so this means I can type longer, (better screen to eye situation) however, honestly I do believe I am in a slump. There are some construction workers to my left and in between us are some shrimp in too much butter; going home to Chris soon. This is how I realize i am still a product of the city: the owner at the laundry mat wanted to explain to me how the dryer works and I just wanted to shove multiple quarters in the slot and get out of there; I had water to get and writing to get through. I was meanwhile thinking (as he over-explained the mechanics of the machine), wow, I have very little patience for a person who lives without electricity. What does that say about me, about Grace? I guess it says that although I think I am patient, I am not. This goes for my writing career too. I want to be published and have entered this many (holding up four fingers) projects in a year. Whoa is me. Time to get my ass in gear. Wait, I have been saying that for a few years. It'll happen. For now...I need patience...and a glass of white wine. Bartender!
Tue, Mar. 11th, 2008, 06:37 pm
Before I spring forward, what the fall looked like
Sun, Feb. 24th, 2008, 06:32 pm
Whole Wheat Growing
http://www.wholewheatradio.org/wiki/index.php/Main_Page Quite a cool place. This is where I get to teach Red Cross courses. Jim rocks. Go to this site; listen to good radio-free music. And, FYI, I will be reading a few short stories here and there one weekday in between 11 a.m. and noon. I will give you prior notice. Have no fear, the wheat is here.
Sun, Feb. 24th, 2008, 10:49 am
who is that?
Sun, Feb. 24th, 2008, 10:41 am
me on skis
Sun, Feb. 24th, 2008, 10:33 am
What's this I hear?
Working on an entry for Selected Shorts. My significant other has been working up a storm on paintings, websites, and advertising. The man is driven. I hope to get my act together and be submitting to publication and journal after publication and journal. We'll see. I teach a CPR/AED/First Aid Class today; this has been a great opportunity for learning good teaching skills and making an income. I have been looking for something new; this is a beginning. Wed, Feb. 20th, 2008, 10:21 am
when the cows come home
Okay, so I had a dream that I thought you might find interesting. I was visiting a school in Iowa that had participated in the Great Alaska Shootout. I spoke with their basketball coach, then I walked around the school, which was quite high school like. At one point I was passing by a window and beyond was a dance class. Their instructor--a cow. She was moving around like a jazz dancing expert, and her students--people--were following along, more or less without too much difficulty.
I read an article about hormones, steroids, antibiotics, etc, in cows in a Mother Earth News article, thus the cow dream, I guess. I haven't watched basketball in a while, however, who knows what that is all about.. Happy dancing. |
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busy
awake
crushed
amused
artistic
iunI don't 
calm
Just wanted to show you the scene 
chipper