“…trouble occurs not because of one failure, but because of the way many different pieces interact…”

30FridayNOV 2012

Great thing about the world we live in is that much knowledge is available to be shared. My sister often sends me great articles she sees – such as this one from the New York Times back in October –
Killing the Computer to Save It by John Markoff
I liked the comment quoted above – it’s from Steven M. Bellovin who is the chief technology officer of the Federal Trade Commission. Let’s hope he was guided by that insight during his tenure.
Scott:::

Not sure if I ever appreciated …

how Blue was everywhere in the life Boo and I have made.

oh how true – thanks much Beth-y!

The past few days have been just kinda wow – moments when it’s all “Oh how the hole seems to be widening, dropping out from under our feet and our hearts and our souls like a scene from a Hollywood action film – will the heroes make it to solid ground, or will they be consumed?” followed by Boo &I laughing and talking about the awesome things Blue had going on – her ‘thud’ of leaning into you if she choose you as the pillow substitute for the moment.

Her gentle but oh-so-persistent nose nudge of your hand – in case you forgot your were supposed to be scratching her. Or the way she’d back into you for a butt-rub/scratch… she’d dance a happy butt happy dance of joy.

Of course, in remembering the fun things, we’ve found one after another of the subtle, “damn, that’s gonna suck” touch points into our hearts. Like how she’d sit at the front window and watch for you to come home – her happy ears and a woof and she darts behind the curtain so that when you open the door she’s sometimes paws over the backrest of the sofa, all happy to see us. Or sometimes it was chewing her favorite shiv-toy with her butt up in the air – all ready to play with us…

Bricks bouncing off our fragile skulls when we come to realize that 7 o’clock has come and gone, with world wide web distracting and hopefully engaging us, but wait – she’s always on time about dinner – what’s up? Oh, fuck – yeah, that’s what’s up. Fuck.

Bricks like a phone call from the nice nice folks at the Vets, letting us know … Blue can come home. If only I had gotten it, and not Boo hearing a message… damn.

I’ve been writing – scribbling really – during class. A list of places we went with Blue – Russian River getaway, doggie parks with Declan and Quincy; LoggieLand and 1 Trinity Ave. Or places where I recall walking Blue – early morning strolls into the crisp air of Montgomery Village, for instance.

Crisp morning in Mont. Village. Circa ’08

We think of great stories we’ll tell once again, and then again, and again…

Did you hear the one about the raccoon?

Oh Rocky, Blue did not like you! Circa ’08

+++  —– Original Message —-
From: punkalicia <punkalicia@*********.com>
To: NPNA@yahoogroups.com
Sent: Thursday, May 15, 2008 11:22:41 AM
Subject: [NPNA] Weird raccoon related request

Hello All, we were foolish enough to leave our door open last night (a mistake
that we feel pretty schooled on right now), and we had a nocturnal
visitor.  Sadly, our dog noticed first, and tangled with said beastie.
I do not recommend separating dog/raccoon pairing while naked and sleepy.

The raccoon cornered itself under some furniture, and after some
wishy/washyness, I called 911 b/c I have to admit, I have NO IDEA if
angry, hurt beast is considered an emergency.  Big shout out to
Stephanie at 911, who had the most soothing voice ever, and got animal
control for us.  And Chris from animal control, who despite getting
roused from bed was cheerful about the whole thing.

Unfortunately, by the time Chris arrived, the raccoon ran out the
back.  I say unfortunately because even thought I was pretty happy to
have it out of the house, it was clearly injured from the fight.  And
since they don’t have the raccoon, we’re taking our dog in for a
rabies booster.

Anyway, long story even longer: If you see an injured raccoon in the
neighborhood, please call animal control.  If it’s injuries were worse
than we realized, and you find it’s body, please call animal control
rather than disposing of it yourself, as I’d like to have it tested
for rabies.

Oh, and if you are silly like us: close your doors and doggie doors at
night! Thanks!
-Alicia @ 601 E Maynard
+++

Of course our friends were … impressed. One wrote – “Ok that is just crazy!  Is Blue ok?  Are you traumatized? BTW, you just announced to cyberspace that:
a. you sleep naked
b. you leave the door to your house open
c. your address is 601 E Maynard
Sorry to hear about the craziness!”

Or how about when she guarded me while I did my first ever ‘wow, I really really REALLY have to piss – er, huh – well, I’m looking at YOU, Mr. “Thirsty-Two Ouncer!” large drink cup; come here…’ while we were outside of Bethesda Naval Hospital as Boo visited her Dad in post-op. (Aren’t you glad I actually DIDN’T get a pic??) Huh, turns out …
resting and waiting

Oh the stories… how I was out back at Hobbit House, noticed Blue up at the road where our side drive meets up – “damn, how’d she get out?? must’ve left the back porch gate open. Damn.” Inside I go to get the leash and go get her and she’s looking at me from the sofa in the living room. Hmmmm…. MAGIC!! that’s it!

Yeah – we’ve got stories. We’ve got friends who are sad and hurting too; talk about a challenging pain management challenge for me – I tend to default to offers of assistance with secret prayers that they’re not in as much need as Boo and I. Still, those who love the furry ones, well… so much sadness.

Sunny skies and lovely days have done me a favor, but I”m not sure if that’s just the function of distraction.

Sadness … pushed to look through the past, memories brighten, recollections cascade and bump into one another – looking at blue, I see friends I’ve not seen in too long.

Evening is draggin on nicely; I presume giving Boo and I time to lose ourselves into our glowing rectangles. I push and rip images so that I can … share? I can see? I can remember…
A Neil Young tune is covered by a voice of calm Texas open skies, (trinity-sessions-like voice) – Neil’s words hit home,
{7:30p + !7Nov2012 = Saturday eve || Chromatics sing “Into the Black” on KEXP}

Mysteries of Life …

– optional vs. required –

monumental clash. Circa ’08

Some if not most of you know that these past few months have been quite a challenge for Boo and I. Seems like just when we’re standing tall, there’s a trip and a fall, but then we get back up, brush ourselves off, take a few more steps … wash, rinse & repeat.

Words I put onto ‘paper’ from the loss of our pregnancy won’t see the light of day anytime soon, and making it through October was and is always a cause for celebration.

I’m not a whitewater kayaker, though I play one on a radio show… but it seems to me it’s quite the challenge – trying to get to the end of the run, dealing with forces coming at you from every direction, missing submerged obstacles … occasionally taking a dunking. The end of a dime-store mystery …

Turns out my memory was correct, and though a toast was proffered to my wonderful ma, the actual consumption of the small bottle of Jameson’s hasn’t quite happened yet. I was thinking of a gathering around our fire pit out front would be a nice place to let the weight – ironically – lift and settle at the same time.

Love means beauty. ’09

“Loss mellows over time” – er. How’s that for a somewhat completely crappy throw-away of a sentence? When I’m beat and tried and worn down and worn out, I guess I might agree that “loss mellows with time”. Except when it’s quiet, and the bed is too big, and you remember. So maybe it’s better to go with “loss mellows with forgetfulness” but even that’s a bit harsh.

My mom would call to let me know to change the clocks back or forward – always let me know ’cause that’s one of the many ways she showed her love. That and cookies. As witnessed these past few months – cookies = love.

Loss mellows as life eases. Maybe? Of course, if you’re thinking this has anything to do with my feelings of devastation by not being able to bring Blue home, I’ve done a poor job of storytelling. Note to self – describe ‘distraction’.

“We hold on as tight as we can” – ah yes John. You sing the truth so often I’d be surprised if you aren’t actually a prophet.

Returning to the water theme today – cliff diver. I remember seeing actual cliff diving on Wide World of Sports back as a kid. Recall seeing ‘target’ diving too – off high jumps at paper targets – human darts I guess.

As much of a scardy cat as I am, boy howdy do I have this diving into the dark depths locked down. You should see my playlists, stacked song on top of song with sparse guitar riffs to accompany the heart-wrenching lyrics. Is it right or normal to revisit the pain? Or are we just holding on as tight as we can?

Artsy fartsy Blue. Circa ’09

Boo and I are unbelievably blessed with the love and support and sympathy of friends, family and acquaintances. I feel like I’ve been too often the recipient, and wish – oh how I wish – that it was not needed, or at least that I could hide away until no one noticed. Wonder what that describes in the books of psychology?

{{on a completely unrelated but oh-so-needed belly-laughing moment, let me share a snippet from an email thread happening as I write this:
“People, where is your head at? Turducken are the most efficient of all poultry. They feed more people and take up less space on the table. Why do you hate hungry people?”
says Boo in response to issues regarding 47%’rs who like meat on their table. Or something like that…

To which Rachael responded:
“Oh, turducken feed more people and take up less space on the table, do they? That smells like communism, my friends. Keep your red birds to yourself and away from freedom loving americans!”}}

Also from the scrapbook of our lives is a message that contains this truly fabulous gem –
“If only there weren’t so much grief involved in grieving.”
So very very true, mi amiga Morgan …

3:13p – took a short break, made an appointment to get some help, made Boo lunch in the form of a grilled cheese sammy. On a wet, grey Thursday it’s a moment. You got to enjoy the moments, people.

The Mountain Goats. Portishead. Neil Young. Marc Cogman. Jakob Dylan. M.I.A.Elvis Costello. Edie Brickell. Tom Petty. Love & Rockets.

I find my way into the damp basement that is my wretched soul and – in the words of Ernest Hemingway – “sit in front of my typewriter and bleed” … bloodletting … is it just me getting what’s in my head out, onto the page? Is it just me looking about the destroyed room and thinking ‘hey, what’s this, outside this window?’ and turning the speakers up a bit, letting the plot develop into an ‘oh, I could put a pic in here I guess…’ moment?

Blue finds a comfortable position. Circa ’10

Ah, pictures… still on the fence if it’s a character trait or flaw, but I’m consistent at least.

Riches and Wonders indeed.

s.

{1:39p + 15Nov2012 = Thursday afternoon || Dime Store Mystery by Lou Reed}

Dreaming of Mercy…

A tuckered out blue, circa ’03

Isn’t that what you’re supposed to yell? “Mercy!” and they’ll stop twisting your arm? Or am I confused?

The cold showed up today – though it’s crisp at 33 degrees, the sun is pouring out of the sky, heating up the cold spots in our world. Part of today’s awesomeness is the heated mattress pad I got Boo – think it’s gonna help us through the winter…

The days come. Sun rises to the left, sets to the right, school buses squeak and rumble by, gaggles of young girls squealing on the sunny days, slump away during the rainy days. Cars keep making impressive time along the East Maynard Drag Strip that runs in front of our house.

Our house is too quiet, and everywhere I look I have the burned-in expectation of Blue … at the window in the corner in the black chair, keeping tabs on buses and mailmen and squirrels. On the divan all akimbo, chewing for the gold record on her Galileo-based shiv. Curled up on the blue sofa, under a blue blanket, a happy Blue if ever there was one.

Under Boo’s desk, her head on Boo’s foot… running in her sleep catching all the squirrels that got away…

It’s a crater in our hearts that I rationally know will ease in depth and soreness, but I don’t want that as much as I desperately want that. You’d think we’d learn not to get up, what with our getting knocked down yet again.

{“shaking the tree” sings Peter.}

Ah music. Ever want to play songs at a loudness that cracks the universe? Me too…

Blood – in yet one example of the millions of niceness-es that cause our pain to ebb surely – sent a tune for me to play, having had some success with it back in ’08 for her pain, for her healing attempts. Jakob Dylan singing ‘On Up the Mountain’.

(what does it say that even as I try to find a way to plumb my ache onto this ‘page’, into the screen via a keyboard that has been damp for days, I still do the stupid little auto-pilot crap that is soooooo important to my life? burn to disc, mark with an x; push to the NAS, mark with an n; open ACDSee and resize, push to Pictures, then move to s:my pictures … what. the. fuck.)

Music. Allows you to shout and still be not be marked ‘anti-social’. as opposed to the numerous head shots with a steel pipe I’ve been sneaking into the moments between the seconds as I trip and stumble down this path I’m on.

Couldn’t figure out how to switch places. kinda still pisses me off.

up to 37 – really warming up!

hugs are golden, always. however, circa ’04

9:09a – Etiquette question – apple pie for breakfast – it’s part of the ‘fruit’ serving, correct?

I’ve often pondered the active discriminatory power of sight – as one who’s vision is not ‘normal’, I’ve thought “if you can’t see the person, what prejudices do you roll with?” Now I’m applying it to those who’ve lost a loved one – if you can’t see the doggie dishes in the dining room, do you not react to them? Or are you tormented by your more developed ‘imagination’ (recollections?)?

Hey – wanna hear a secret? Boo and I have the best friends in the world.
No – I know, your friends are awesome, but ours are best. Really.
Want proof? See how Boo and I are still standing? Yeah, not really our ability shining through there. Just wanted to share.

Who really loves baths? circa ’05

Oh, you don’t mind if I wander a bit, do you? Didn’t think so.
After these moments of ‘acid bathing’ I always get this hint of ‘fuck it’-ness. Shall I list the numerous things I”m gonna do now because fuck it, this living shit is short and painful and what the hell am I waiting for anyways?!!

My NaNoWriMo is gonna be called ‘Filling the Hole In My Heart With 40,000 words – An Ode to Bluedog’. My intro into the Indy as a ‘correspondent’ will be auto/travel writing backed by my tech prowess – stories such as ‘Mightier Than Pen or Sword – the Humble Tire Pressure Gauge!’ & ‘Window 8 – Why All the Hate?’ Just have to get to pounding on this keyboard, eh?

That way I can send notes to VW and Mazda to review their future-oriented diesel-powered cars and ‘SkyActiv’-designed gas-powered cars. I’ll send a note to Dell to get a hi-def Latitude lappytoppy to ‘test’ and let Morgan see if it’ll do, rabbit. It’ll do.

Oh yeah – crafting witty saying regarding InfoSec – “Surely You Can Do Better” may be my byline. Like Gmail two-factor authentication – you’ve set it up right? Even an idiot like me can do it, surely you can do better.

See? Brains all a poppin’ – stand back, you might be amazed…

Pepper vs. Blue, circa ’06

9:34a – staring at cars I will never afford – 1988  BMW M5 this morning.

9:56a – oh, yeah – ‘Mother’ from Pink Floyd’s The Wall, as performed by Sinead O’Connor. Yeah … that’s right into essence, deep into the core.
“Mother will she break my heart…”

So, Boo’s up, watching Rosemary & Thyme (oh BBC, you do such a good job), drinking some coffee, the sun has warmed up the windows a good bit, music and words flow as I sit at my desk pondering the day.

This is a haphazard creation I offer, and please, no offense is intended, nor will I much care. I share because I feel loved, and can’t really tell each of the people who are holding me up the intricacies of my cracked and crackling brain. I hope my appreciation is evident, and if not, well, it’s there.
ah fuck …
‘how about a picture of blue?’ – wasn’t that part of the routine? fuck…
fuck …

{11:36a – Sinead sings ‘Thank You For Hearing Me’}
how true, how very very true…

{8:19a + 14Nov2012 = Wednesday morn || gaelle performs Mercy Street, a Peter Gabriel original}

A beautiful mess…

Tuckered out…

Blue’s not doing good.
Vet’s are reasonably sure that the mass in her chest is complicating her pneumonia problem, and in a bit Boo and I will head off to the Vets to have a talk neither one of us thought we’d have for a bit.

Get her home from her belly operation, deal with her room clearing farts, listen to her tell us the time (“really close to feeding time people. Here – scratch my butt”) … now, not so much.

How do you share incredibly crappy news with the friends and family who’ve kept you going through so much? How do we keep going forward? (see above – friends, family, love) …

**The wind is blowing hard enough that the remaining leafs are falling in pairs and groups … falling down from on high.. Fall changes to winter, change never stops.**

{11:36a + 12Nov12 = Monday morning || Frightened Rabbit sings ‘State Hospital’}

+++ from yesterday +++
Our dog blue is sick, not getting better quickly, and thus Boo and I are quite the wreck.
We distract ourselves with work and school, eat every living carbohydrate in our house, sleep poorly or medicated, and keep finding every damn minutia crushing to our souls.
Blue is not on the other side of me when Boo reaches over to pet her in bed…
Blue isn’t guarding our front yard from squirrels, leafs, wandering dogs/walkers, the mailman, and any other sundry things she sees and protects us from.
Blue’s water dish sits waiting to be refilled when it’s emptied by her drooly toungue.
Her food dish is all clean, waiting for her to get excited about the green beans she loves sooooooo much.

see – every little fucking thing…

I’m content knowing that I have limited powers … I live a good life by being good to those near me, not as much of an asshole as I want to be to the danger-strangers who get in my way as I drive about the Triangle, I inquire to the well being of our friends because I care about how they’re doing…

but I can’t figure out how to trade places with blue. I can’t figure out how to get her home, so she can go running in her dreams, lacerating my kidneys, and occasionally ‘wooofl-wooo hooo wooo woofle woofle {littlebark}’ as she runs and runs and runs.

I’m angry at every fucking thing in this world that isn’t working to get our dog back home.

I hate – with a cold passion – the pit that’s growing in my heart and in the back of my mind – where the rage is growing, not hurrying, just waiting for the snap, the break where I. Don’t. Care. Anymore…

hell – not even afraid of that… just don’t want it at all.

Our friends – oh our friends. how they have loved and supported us. I really feel bad for them – they do not deserve to have to be on our suffrage

At least they keep us well fed and well drunk… wait. never mind…

Also, Mindfulness Based Stress Reduction is kinda failing me as I sit outside the Vets office, hoping and waiting and crying and being angry. Just so ya know…

{9:01p + 11Nov12 = Sunday eve, Veterans Day || silence, but screams make it through…}

The house is quite quiet, and I have a heart…

two things pointedly learned (reminded?) from our ‘too-fun-for-words!’ 2012 Triangle Tour, Fall leg.

Here’s blue on the way to the vet…

As Facebook Friends may already know (if they read Boo’s feed) Blue ended up in the hospital yesterday (Thursday, day two of Obama’s Hell Yes We’re Staying! celebration) since on Wednesday she decided she didn’t want to do her ‘I love beans oh beans beans beans beans beans’ dance. Which concerned us very much.

The piles of doggie vomit also concerned us very much. and when she performed ‘doggie vomit with meaning, a movement in three parts’ for us Thursday morning, after no dinner Wednesday night, we set off to enjoy a sunny day visiting two local vets. Sigh.

We’re all taught (or should be) that dogs are just animals – little ones need to be careful of the front ends, for that’s where they ‘mean business’ with teeth and claws. As we get older, we realize the back end also means business, of a more sinus/room clearing nature.

Never taught, or that I’ve ever heard said out loud in a dog owner training class, is how they attach themselves to your heart. May be a special connection between the hairs we breath in and their warm soft scratch-able underbellies, like a weak magnetic force or something.

Blue’s ‘pointy’ end decided at some point in the quasi-recent past that eating a piece of one of her chew toys was a fun and worthwhile use of her time. We’re not perfect parents to Blue, so of course give me a week or three and you should be able to swing by and eat off the floor, since she’ll never have a non-digestible chew toy again without multiple adults supervising her. Sigh.

Weird (and incredibly bumming) truth is that our first vet took a squeeze of her, guessed that something was up with her lungs maybe, and had x-rays to prove that ‘there’s something there…’ … oh the couched terms … ‘a mass’. Boo did not take that news well, and I was quite frankly too sleep deprived so my reaction was less than full-hearted. Sorry Boo, up side was I was able to drive pretty ok.

Off to a specialist for the potential of an ultrasound guided poking of the thing with a stick (sure there’s a more correct medical term, but fuck it – I’m not getting the bucks for performing it, so why do I need to be able to spell ‘aspirant’??)

Kinda cool note – they ran blood work and had it ready for us after we had a coffee and morning sammy over at the Dunkin. wowsers.

At the vet’s hospital that shall not have a decent sign to pull into (in Cary, oddly), more blood work, more x-rays, and an abdominal ultrasound later Doc Brown calls (why can I only hear him saying “1.21 gigawatts! 1.21 gigawatts. Great Scott!”) and shares a litany of concerns and issues – most important being an obstruction in Blue’s gut. insert sad/happy face here. Also endocrine issue, as well as heart/lung mass we’d need more testing for.

Absurdly deep well of relief to hear that the reason your beloved ‘nimal is all totally not herself is fixable with an expensive surgery. Totally takes your mind off her probably having cancer. (see how I waited to type that word until way down here? probably need to talk with a therapist about that … probably got some easy reasons I can help them figure out…)

Sigh.
fuck.

Now it’s 10:31am on Friday. I didn’t go to school last night, I took a relaxant. Friends visited with Tiramisu.  Boo let me crash after we got back from leaving Blue for surgery and an overnight at the Vets.

It almost balanced out the hours I spent Wed night to Thurs morning yelling at the yappy dogs in my head to ‘shut the fuck up!’ to which they responded ‘go fuck yourself! danger danger doom doom!!!!” (shut the fuck up!)… as the universe had it, I was to take in the awesomeness of the film The Big Lebowski (though I wasn’t quite able to nail down the core truth as the credits rolled…)

Since I was already up and rocking in a semi-fetal position in front of the television, I popped in my copy of ‘Reckless‘ and sank into a truly unprofessional assessment of my fear-avoidance self-determinism of my mid-80s mid-teens self, as exampled in my ‘fear’ of seeing the movie more than once back in the days it was at the theater (Sangertown Square 12!!! or was it 8? fuck…) for its awesome escapism – both in literal and figurative story-telling – was – and still is – quite compelling.

Also, Jennifer Grey’s first film appearance! Bonus also – Stuebenville, Ohio is where the ‘ledges’ are for Johnny Rourke (Aidan Quinn) … pretty sure I spend the rest of the 80s and part of the 90s looking for my very own vantage point.

Though that plan of attack worked, because if nothing else the body does have ways of shutting down the yapping puppies, it didn’t make the eventual awakening to Boo saying ‘Blue vomited a lot, I’m calling the vets office’ any easier. Fears, meet reality. Reality – go fuck yourself. So that’s how my yesterday started …

I certainly enjoyed greatly the treat the Boys dropped off, and with the proper amount of stress-reduction invoked slept fairly well.

But the house is too quiet. Blue was not running in her sleep between Boo and I last night (thus my kidneys don’t feel bruised this morning), there’s no clicky clacky-ing about as Blue traipses from soft napping in the bedroom to the brighter, but just as soft napping in the living room, to the eventual curling up at Boo’s toes under Boo’s desk. There was again no “Dance to Indicate My Love for All That Is Green Beans and the Joy They Bring (in two parts)” which, though perhaps a bit biased, I will use as proof that the world is still good, and worthwhile an effort to make better. Cause have you seen Blue’s entire body when she’s getting beans with her kibble? it’s sooooo awesome…

A quiet house is not a happy house, I guess is what I’m saying.

Cool note – apparently blue’s having a FABULOUS morning, post-op procedures including the Methadone treatment for pain relief. Yay, our very own ‘rock-star’ pup is at the ‘clinic’ dealing with an eating issue. Blue is such a cliche.

and we love her sooooo much, no matter how much she hurts our hearts.

Hold your loved ones close, let them know how much they mean to you. Try to do that with extra scritches and perhaps a bonus treat for no reason what so ever.

We’ll be able to get back to ‘normal’ tomorrow morning … might not get to blogging about it til a while later. Hard to type when the keys are wet…

ciao

}S{ | dona nobis pacem |

“Keep Calm and Carry On” or “Keep Calm … and Cupcakes!”

comfort

Sunshine punches through the clouds, a struggle that the sun will lose today. the clouds conspire to remove the contentedness that permeated yesterday, taking us a few days back to memories of weather that only annoyed us, not hurt us like the Big Cities got hurt …

On days such as this I guess we find our comfort through our rituals, just like the door said a few years back:

Such as making coffee. Drinking coffee.
Looking at photos from years gone by.
Looking at things I want to buy.
  I like to look at furniture in windows in the stores
  and then and then
  I think a lot of cars that I know I can’t afford
  and then and then
sigh…

Thanks (& (c)) to Evans Automotive in Columbus, Ohio for my ritual de la wanderlust habitual of the day!! 

So while the sun got past the clouds’ defensive blanket, I saw it glinting off the hood of this GT, parked outside the Grand Canyon lodge for Boo & I’s semi-often ‘Hell, it’s the end of the year, we should celebrate by driving to the other side of the country all poorly planned and what not … oh – look – another beautiful vista!!’ tour.

No actual productivity was harmed in the making of this daydream.
{Diamond Dogs – by Beck}
We sleep, we get up. So that we can go back to sleep sometime later…

Slip into my slippers, cause it’s in the 30s this morning (come on sunshine, we need you!!). Rinse coffee pot parts, spoon in the 4 levelish scoops for the 8 units of water. the grinder has an apt name for it, don’t you think?

As the coffer makes itself (hmmm, what is the word for what coffee does? infuse? melt? hmmm…) coffee cups are cleaned, plates and a knife for the inevitable physics experiment with bread (or bagel) and a toaster, on mornings I’m feeling healthy I’ll make the mixings for our smoothies (of courses, cleaning of blender parts is defacto ritualized if I’m in the mood for smoothies)…
Then we sit … sit and drink, sit and nibble, sit and read.

From the top left – Google Calendar (do I really use that? ha ha ha), Google + (oh the photos there…), GMail (will Morgan get back to me?), Bring A Trailer pop out from GMail (thus the shiny coupe above), the ebay tab for said car, and another tab for a different add from BAT (Alfa’s in the NW); then the historic tabs – last night’s Indy email had me pop open a tab on 24 Hour Comic Book day (write a comic in 24 hours – try it, it’s fun!!), Microsoft Student Underground site for students making apps for WinMo, Voytek’s Adventures from my PC800 mailing list, and ArsTechnica article on Parallels 7 vs BootCamp, a tab on the Complete how to running windows on a mac, another tab on bootcamp vs parallels, and Apple.com knowledge base page on losing functionality running Windows on a mac, a lifehacker ‘update’ since their servers are down, but I had been reading about secure password managers, how to set up your desk – an introduction, how a dude moved from a MacBook to and iPad with Linode to do coding, the secret life of steve jobs in 46 seconds (dealing with his opinion that you can change it, and that’s the most powerful thought you can have), a tab on soulful driving (site’s called ‘Curves’), a dropbox come-on for educational institutions (why do I believe I can change the mind of people who ‘run’ things?? Delusions?), a google search on NPR SoftBank Sprint (thanks matt!), the actual NPR site for said article, an episode on The Verge from their intrepid reporter who gave up the internet, The Happiness Project’s Manifesto page, TechDirt’s page on a CIA torture whistle blower being railroaded by the DOJ, TechDirt page focused on the article reporting that cops can place a surveillance camera on private property, PopeHat page on creepy story of wire fraud and extortion (dude puts up embarrassing pics, has add to dude who can get pics taken down – same dude), The Awl’s story on not rebuilding NY (or New Orleans…) – for matt!, Woot’s Tech page, Book of Faces, News.Google for the US, checking to see if the looting is bad in NYC, the Blooger page where I’m writing this (is that meta?), NYT page on gasoline shortages after Sandy, and a google search on Trio’s lyrics for Hearts Are Trump.

Sit and read. Sit and shop (HP business lappytoppys for perhaps Morgan’s replacement machine?). Sit and try not to read the ‘news’, because boy does it just infuriate me to no ends…

Sit and look out the window at the squirrels hopping running bounding about our lawn searching for stowed away presents, sometimes finding them, frantic…
Looking at the big pines towering over our yard (and squirrels), the grey block of ‘cloud’ behind them, cracked and patch-worked with hot white spots where the sun fights valiantly.

Sit and listen – music is definitely a ritual for me.
88.1 in the kitchen – those crazy kids and their radio station – random music in the mornings (chainsaw metal on Thursday nights – always surprises me!). Stream 88.1 sometimes at the computer, this morning playing a list of tunes thrown together in Winamp with a heavy focus on David Bowie.

Sitting.
Pondering the many things that might happen.
Planning and purchasing the few that will happen.

Going and getting a second cup of coffee.

oh – and smoothie making! yum!

Come on sun…
{Changes by Bowie}
ciao,

}S{ | dona nobis pacem |

“Keep Calm and Carry On” or “Keep Calm … and Cupcakes!”

{8:44a + 2Nov2012= Friday || Down Under by Men At Work}