upon sighting a star sign
i took it as a glimmer of a sigh
of blood rushing like a sun-ray
to sluice me in images
as i raise my arms afloat
the light that curves off words
descends seeping to my heart
the capillaries roll in a splay
giving oxygen to my signs
show me what to breathe and how to know
what you mean to act and say to show
in the air that drags between your teeth
and wraps your fingers
signing your soul away into space
I’ve moved to She Frolics for a new look and an easier name to recall….
I FROLIC OVER AT SHE FROLICS… see you there.
The hippocampus is a funny thing. It’s the memory center on the sides of our brains tied into the nervous system. Currently, I am using muscular memory (which often operates independently from the hippocampus) to type fluidly. My hands are so attuned to the motions that a sentence results in my fingertips leaping ahead with the synaptic charge, missing the meat, and arriving pre-ejaculated at my final thought.
Physical memory relates to the saying, “It’s like riding a bicycle. (You never forget.)” I’d like to take concept and talk about the substance of remembering information, the actual flexing of memory itself. The flex has to become a practice. I used to be a champion speller, remembering where i goes before e except after c. The less I use my vocabulary, the more basic details of words become forgotten. The other day, I couldn’t pin down spelling “Broccoli.” My duty to myself, as a student of life, is to keep on learning.
Just writing helps put that flex to practice. Another strategy to keep on improving, while reading, is listing words I don’t know the definition of, or words that I like but never use. – Irised! Flotilla! Consolidate! Cupola! Surmise! Apparatchik! -
Thus far in this process I am pleased to be propositioned by perfectly perky terms to put some pepper in my prose. As a child, one of my favorite uttered terms was PATHETIC. If someone couldn’t give me an airplane ride or a pizza for dinner, in an exaggerated enunciation, “PA-THHHHe-TIK” was the ever-scathing scornful remark reducing the lowly being to rubble. Instead of the month-long or year-long obsessions of youth, I have the weekly fads with a particular ways of saying things.
Words, words, words. Too much fluff to get to the point. The point being… I had a literal recent brush with the verdure of Santa Monica Mountains that resulted in nothing less of a disaster. I mildly exaggerate but when sleep is forcefully paused and shrill annoyance runs amok, this is a problem.
Cue spooky classical music….. I was kissed by poison oak.
The legs became a purulent yellow, itchy, bright glaring red, not-hot mess. NSFW pictures coming up ahead if you haven’t peeked already. Mayhaps, you’re asking, “I understand how words and memory connect. What about words and poison oak?” Well, I learned the ultimate, bestest, most perfect word to describe the experience of yellow pus running down from the blister gashes dotting my shin, (a special thanks to the cyst from “A Serious Man” by the Coens) SEBACEOUS: “containing an unusual amount of oil or grease.” Go on and add it to your vocabulary repertoire. It’s been marked and placed in my head library for eternity. You can use it to describe a greasy (sebaceous) burger, America’s use of oil (these sebaceous gas-guzzling S.U.V.s) or Haley’s unshaven legs covered in pus (one hell of a drippy hairy sebaceous sight).
TIP: Wear pantaloons in the woods.
I’ve performed the #1 facepalm of a newbie blogger according to – Life Without Pants
Yep, was successfully following a routine of posting the semi-occasional blog. Then I went and fell off the edge of the world. Sorry about that, I’ll work on my consistency. CONSISTENCY! (What a concept).
As I mentioned in the Carnimoprhismicallyvegetarianism, Eat Me post, I’m not a very good follow-througher. It’s not that I just figured it all out, but here we go!
Quick Rewind Update on Posts Past-
• Detoxing went well, did my best to ease out of it. Back to boozing in social circumstances. But not back to excessive sugar and salt and still eating my poo-friendly veggies! Seriously, get What’s Your Poo Telling You for your bathroom readings. My roommates quote me on this- “The poo book really helps us communicate.”
• Life path dream goals are still eluding me; however, next life stage might be relocating to….. Austin, Texas. I’ll get back to you on this one.
• Still only have one pair of jeans. I don’t know how I do it, really.
• Being a Vegetarian suits me. This time around I’m a much better cook (emphasis on MUCH) and willing to experiment. Good-bye pasta yesterday, hello tempeh cutlets on the menu tomorrow. Personal Tip- Get some recipe books like the ones I picked up: Student’s Go Vegan Cookbook and Being Vegetarian for Dummies.
• Healthcare still hasn’t passed! What…. A….Drag…. (This is a euphemism for WHAT THE FUCK!) I really need to get my preventive care on.
• For some awesome discussions on the religion front that leaves me in the dust on eloquence, go and read Jay Lake’s blog, an author whose work I just started reading and he has great discourse and thoughts on the subject. Start here and he’ll give you all the links necessary to follow.
• Still shuffling, just shuffled up and down the San Francisco hills last weekend. Pretty good exercise. Newspapers are staying intact, by the way.
• Another thing I’ve followed through on (is a pattern developing?), there has been NO making friends with the weasel. A great thing about not popping my neck is the fact it already feels better. It’s like itching that budding poison oak bump only to get this big gash that itches even more. Ok, bad analogy there. But I really do have a bad case of poison oak. I’ll show you the pictures if you wish. Just ask.
• The fall heat dropped off in South California and got replaced by El Nino this winter. The hills are alive with the sound of rumbling devastation. Can’t hear that, so all I got to give are happy smiles at the green vegetation frothing over.
• I’ve figured out that I’m a nosy, pushy, loving bully. If you’re depressed, I’m going to smack you over on the head and not let you cry… the suicide month isn’t the right time for you to get all sad. Frankly, that just makes me paranoid.
My update hath runneth over. Be back with y’all soon, folks.
Sunday- Today, I am Fasting.
Indeed, I am cleansing my body. January is the perfect time to do this, immediately after the gluttonous celebrations that is December joyibulations… November feasting…. October sweets…. and the all-encompassing booze… oh, the boozing.
This is my fourth time doing this over the last three years. The program I follow is Fast Track Detox by Ann Louise Gittleman. It is designed to release toxins while flushing them out, kick-start your liver function, get your digestive acids working properly, and allows your colon to expel…. well.
Let me quickly list what I am REQUIRED to have the first 7 days (all Organic)-
The last 3 days I add sauerkraut and yogurt (I salivate, for tomorrow I dollop it on top of my Delicious Morning After Fluffly Apple Flaxcakes).
No bread/carbs at all with the exception of brown rice, nil sucra.. no salt except the occasional sea salt sprinkle to neutralize the bitterness of dark greens. the sodium in vegetable broth is acceptable, too. Alas, spices are tres importante. Cinnamon is supposed to help your metabolism.. so spice away!
All of this happens over the course of 10 days not including the detox fast day. Great, huh? Don’t grimace too much for me though, there are also neutral foods I can eat that include yummies like Bell Peppers, Mushrooms, Shallots, Tomatoes, Cucumbers, Olives…
It can get pretty bland if you don’t add a dash of cayenne or anything… the reason I do it is not because of the terrific gourmets but to feel energized. This whole program teaches my body what it wants to eat. Tomorrow, the day after my fast. I am supposed to savour every bite I take.. this way while being on an empty stomach my body is trained to crave what it is given. It’s always worked.
The only difference is that this time around there’s no meat for me. I can’t eat the beans or nuts that offer a decent replacement to that loss so in a cup of water I mix in Blue-Green Algae (brand- Spirulina). Let me say… the stuff isn’t that pleasant, but it is necessary, so I go forth with dark green war paint dribbling down my mouth corners and pinch my nose. How hard is 11 days anyway, really, people!
As for the FAST day- I drink water and Cranberry Miracle Juice (a concoction of pure cranberry juice, orange juice, water, and nutmeg/cinnamon/cloves). I drink 8 oz of each, alternating every hour. Needless to say, there’s a lot of visits to the WC. Ever had pure cranberry juice? That’s heavy stuff right there, I dare you to drink it straight up, however, on the sensible side, I recommend you add a small amount to a cup, fill it up with water, and you have your super antioxidant drink.
Due to the lowered calories and low-carb diet, I can’t do heavy exercise. I cheated a bit with some hard hikes but.. hey (a 4 pound loss is nice).
Information notwithstanding, my feelings about this whole experience, I shall share.
*I like the fact that I have a really good excuse for not buckling to various situations of peer pressure.. I’m weak.
*Portions are a lot less and I am a little more hungry in between meals than the last two detoxes due to not including protein (I would recommend ALG try to do another book for Vegetarians, Spirulina = Protein replacement but not BULK replacement. K?)
*Immediately after eating, I get a lot of physical highs, it’s odd. Like my body is floating.
*I crave the simple things, like a morning toast with my eggs.
*I love smoothies, I look forward to these as desserts (a cup of berries, vanilla whey, flaxseed oil, cranberry juice, some water).
*The beginning felt slow… I swear time is going faster now, scientific foundations shall be thwarted.
*All this feeling great about my food intake inspired me to get out a lot more, went hiking three times in a week and had a night out, dancing, as well.
*I’m excited that I lost 4 pounds already. The day of the Fast is supposed to be the highest amount of weight loss, though. I’m ready to jump back into the gym and sweat when this is over especially since I’ll definitely be taking in more portions.
*I’m also doing this with my boyfriend and we’ve been excellent supporters for each other. Happy it makes me that I can live a similar lifestyle with the person I’m around the most.
Fasting day is awesome. There’s no food prep or dishes to be washed. Now, I’m going to go see Sherlock Holmes in the theater. This day is supposed to be a day of rest and reflections. Btw, I’m not hungry.
Gandhi said – “What the eyes are for the outer world, fasts are for the inner.”
The past’s been mentioned and so has the now. What shall be of tomorrow? Some of us have the next year planned, a ten-year outline, or some time structured towards a final destination. These plans can be based on the reality of restrictions, others can be based on impossible dreams. Only the impossible isn’t always so, as long as you take baby steps.
Poke at me and ask “What of your dreams?
Am you on some journey towards achieving a passion?”
Alas, I am free-floating in a gravity-filled space. Heavy with a dreamless destination.
I’ve spied some gaudy shirts that mention midgets, computers, WOW, and tits as hard-on motivations… while you can put these on some people’s lists mine doesn’t include my own B.A. degree as one of them. Over a year ago, I graduated and have been sitting on my ass ever since (except for the occasional shuffles down the driveway).
Every Christmas, my mother gifts a new ornament in our stockings. Last year was a fitting selection. My boyfriend, who already has marvelous dreams of his own got “Believe.” My brother, whom is married and had an one year old daughter at the time, received “Love.” My mother whom knows me well and hopes that I open my heart to more possibilities and desires, bestowed upon me, “Dream.” Still, there are no signs of R.E.M. motions these days.
Sure, I have dreams of traveling, living well, seeing new things, marveling about them, seeing the successes of others, but what of methods of achieving these and contributing to society. Time will tell.
My adaption of The Red Wheelbarrow
by William Carlos Williams
So much depends
a leaping childlike
tickling that bright
in the plumbing
of the heart
What you eat, your environment, your genes, and your friends are very good indicators of the type of a person. What you wear according to Stacy London and Clinton Kelly, encompass and showcase to the world your very being! Yes! Clothes, how I love thee.
I can be an Eskimo, or a bohemianfreakin’hippie, or a professional hipster, or the occasional gansta. I say what you DO with your clothes is an excellent embodiment of who you are as well.
I’m from Fife, WA.
I live in “Southland”, CA.
And I deserted my pants.
I own one pair of jeans (left behind); the other has a busted zipper (unwearable, also left behind). The hazards of living in balmy weather have shown their cards just in time for a northern winter wonderland vacation. In Seattle, I am a sun-spoiled, ill-clothed, and scatter-brained russian/turkish Genie-In-Training.