June 2012. I am going to miss the random freedom. That is the thing that the Zürchers, like me, are most relaxed about when I compare them to my own home people. I am at the Bad Enge, the bath in Enge, on Lake Zurich, the sea of Zurich, Zurisee, where we swam and did water sport late this afternoon. The swim part of the pool is officially closed, but a TV is set up on the inner deck to show the semi-final Euro game, Italy v. England, on this Sunday afternoon. Two handfuls of folks are still hanging out. Next door at the Frauenbad, the ladies bath, also officially closed (yet open), another handful of citizens have embarked on a Sunday ritual: a mixed group swim, nude, one by one as they arrive and peel off the stuff they wore to walk or bike here, out to the first floating deck about 20-30 meters from the steps of the Frauenbad. Now they are all there, like a hairless, mostly skinny, tiny herd of walruses, a school of scale-less mer-people, being social until the air gets too cold, and then suddenly, they adjourn, and jump and dive in again together, playing and swimming their way back to the main deck, to their towels and piles of street clothes. Maybe forty-five minutes have passed; Some of the walruses come over wrapped in their towels to sit and watch the remaining game. All this happens in the relative middle of the city of Zurich. All is well and all is normal.

Annoyed and Other Moods.

Well I have tried for 30 minutes to get on the internet at freaking Starbucks, and shortly I have to go……foiled. Poo. Just got done with a movie : Love and Other Drugs. Lovely young nubile actors all full of heart and soul and charm and snark. Romantic comedy no doubt. Perfect winter tonic. The critic in me is mildly cheesed off, but the romantic in me had a little tear in the corner of her eye, placed there also by my own vanity and narcissism. The giant looming ego in my brain: "omg I had a claw foot tub just like that when I was 27 and artistic in a falling down flat with holes in the walls and paint splashes on the floor! Back when the world was soooo f-ing wide open only I did not realize time was slipping away but oh gee our heroine does! She has that disease and although young and beautiful she feels the clock ticking so keenly, brave girl. Awe. Sigh." Don't get me started on the drug company angle of the movie…they do a broad strokes humorous treatment of the complexity of the issues between the corps and the docs and the sick people, enough that anyone can see it is a tough problem where everyone is just trying to do their best. Echem. Yes, well.

Since I don't drive much or work in an office I forget, until I am in a grocery store or something, how much I hate pop music. That one, the Hey-Twister-Soul-Sister-Mr.-Mister one Jesus it makes me want to slit my wrists, or someone's. Then I take some deep breaths, and realize, relish the fact I remember: that it is not for me, that song. Relief.
The other realization today in my short adventures out in the world is that I am destined to be one of those decently-dressed but slightly disheveled wild-grey-haired ladies who pinches her nose as she walks briskly through the grocery store perfume department talking to herself loudly and dramatically "Oh my God!! Pee-euw! This place stinks!" Some days it is all I can do to keep my eminent eccentricities at bay. Not even sure why I hold them back at all but for some reason it seems appropriate to try to wait another decade.

Songs used to evoke the late 90s in that movie were fairly spot on..the story reminded me of this one too! :)

Two Oh One One. One, one one. One a.m.

O gracious it's been a while. So many thoughts. So little I feel I can divulge here. Today was a tender day, but still I held my head high and got tons of stuff done. The world still spins and tomorrow everything will be fine.

I have been experimenting with the social networking thingys out there beyond Facebook. Tumblr, for example, which I finally explored on New Year's Day, and also Twitter, on an account I have had but have until recently not been inspired to use much. I like Tumblr, but I am torn. Do I throw my address up on my facebook page like a shameless marketer of my own minutiae, or do I bide my time and find a new, as yet unknown, tribe?

Also on New Year's day, I discovered Mark Sisson and his book, The Primal Blueprint. It's a dieting/exercise/philosophical handbook of sorts, and so far I am buying what he's selling, (and what he is giving away for free). It's a protein-rich, grains-free, natural food and rational and varied movement -type plan, and it makes a lot of sense, though I can understand how it would be more difficult for some to adapt to than others, lacking certain resources and will to change. But I can also see how even some of the small changes included in this concept could cause immediate benefit. I for one am feeling pretty excited about being more in control of losing fat while maintaining a very sane work-out schedule (especially since some of this winter weather we are having finds me barely working out at all), and feeling satiated and well-energized.

Other stuff: Been doing the bi-yearly clutter clear, inspired by the odd Hoarders episode in my memory banks and a broad overview of the new Minimalist Movement, also discovered on the blogs and tumblrs found in New Year's Day. Bedroom clear space was the priority, and now that has been done, it's down to catagorizing the stuff that's going up for auction, out to the Brockihaus second-hand shops, or into the dumpster..

So there is yet other stuff...Stuff in the back and stuff in the front, on the surface and underneath. Saving up time and dough for some travel, tho' I feel split in about five directions. Need to go to Australia, and U.S. for family and just to look at it up close again, but there are places I have never been that I would also like to go, without any agenda, and finally perhaps I would like to take a tiny break somewhere just for myself, gasp. So It's down to planning even though it is nice to pretend sometimes that my resources and aplomb are such that I could just throw some stuff in a bag and hop a train an hour after I finally make up my mind. Also there are certain days when I must will myself not to do that very thing because though to start a journey in just that way is tempting and appealing, there are a few things that cannot just be dropped in my real daily life. No duh, huh, babe.

Craving a cigarette, surprisingly. It's winter that does it. Don't have one though. Nostalgia.

This week started with Girl the dog having an upset belly and being generally bothered. Poor thing did well with a new vet, closer to home, on Monday. If she wasn't such an old gal it probably would have been safe, if inconvenient, to let her malady run its course, but meds instead - did not want to play the dehydration game. Almond butter on pills make them irresistible to dogs, apparently.

Had a dream Monday night that I wish I were still having now. Not a flying dream. Every detail is still with me and I want it back, now. Something unknown yet so familiar.

House is so quiet now. Pup is snoring. Husband stayed home today and crashed finally late this afternoon after a straight-thru multi-day working session with only one genuine break to go and hear Herbie Hancock and his people play live last night, which was pretty spectacular. We forgot about it until yesterday, but managed to get lucky with tickets at the last minute. So glad we caught it.

I have spent spare time this and last week eliminating unneeded paper from our home-files. Need a meeting with insurance guy before the end of the month. Those people definitely get the award for most deliberately confusing paperwork, and the award for greatest quantity of useless and redundant paperwork mailed to client. Come on people, save a tree. Edit.

Getting random call(s), from Nigeria, I guess, to my phone again. Not really who I was hoping to hear from...

Seriously considering hibernating until the end of November…but argh,*sniff*, stuff needs done, by God... gotta keep doin' it! ;)

While getting ready for the show last night accidentally discovered my new favorite cocktail. It still needs a name. Gin, aloe vera juice, splash of lime juice. Heaven.

personal attributes, CV101

Confident, friendly in-person and over-the-phone reception. Strong secretarial and customer service skills. High level of personal responsibility. Successful independent worker. Organized with attention to detail. Adept at appeasing finicky or distressed people. Strong math aptitude. Friendly and kind disposition.

Snorer, not always but frequently, and especially when hemmed in. Near to forty. Compulsive furniture re-arranger. Proven ability to account for intricate beats with hips. Alcohol not required, though can be charming when relaxed. O negative. Comprehends English language spoken in any number of funny accents. Experienced in use of Evian, aloe vera juice, red meat, frequent silence and downtime alone. Tilted uterus. Self starter. Knows the difference between the warp and the weft.

where i might be found.

:)

Come To Me Like Thunderbolt, New Music.

I need new music! I heard this song today and I was thinking of the first time I heard it, in the frozen foods section of the Asda in Bexleyheath. I nearly dropped my fish. I recognized Martha immediately, there in the store although I hadn't heard anything from her since I saw her perform with her brother at Zona Rosa in Austin years before. In the shop I began scrawling partial lyrics down in my notebook to Google when I got home..



So tomorrow if I am a very good girl I should be knee-deep in spreadsheet most of the afternoon, go grab train tickets, then off Thursday to Luzern for a concert and a day or two depending on weather and whim. Change of scenery seemed like a good idea a while back when we bought the tickets. We shall see.

Red and Blue

My recurrent obsession with dark orange-red and rich pale blue is rearing is pretty pointy head again. It turns up in personal talismans and fetishes, in the decor of the living room, along with another preoccupation: circular shapes.



I stopped using the leg and arm weights for the walk today. I think the timing was right..the weights did their job in the initial... struggle. Going up the hill they helped wake up my heart and metabolism..but now I just want to go fluid and fast, if you can call it that for a walk--not a run. Today felt great. Nice sweat, good shower.

After a little conference with myself in the mirror I have come to a certain acceptance. I can take care of this body and keep it strong and happy with how I push it and what I put in it..all this physicality of life is far from over..but the evidence of nearly 40 years on the planet will remain. The skin is soft and mostly smooth but there are scars..an interesting landscape, to be sure. Also, there is nothing to be done that can take the look of experience out of my eyes; That bird has flown...I'm not talking about the laugh lines..I am talking about the knowing. It's not so bad.

A friend points out that it's Karva Chauth today for some. So romantic. A bit controversial apparently. Something that can be blatant or hidden in plan sight, consumption or lack there of hinting at sentiments of the heart. Traditional, a community event as well…a ritual. A little salt over the left shoulder..

There is a little issue I am grappling with, a concern..an energizing point of peace, joy and happiness on the one hand, and of confusion and slight frustration on the other. Little. Well, small we can say, but at the core, as long as we are being honest. Just a little baby dragon. Nothing to be too worried about...

Lamb Stew.

I feel so witchy when I make stew.

LAMB STEW

Ingredient amount is "some" unless otherwise noted. Use your favorite stew pot and an old wooden spoon.

Prosciutto, cut into strips

(If pork is not your preference, skip it or use sun-dried tomatoes instead.)

Lamb, cubed

Olive Oil - a lot

Ground Black Pepper

(All in, on high heat in the bottom of a stew pot until lamb is browned.)

Shallot, minced

Cloves of Garlic, minced

(Add, stir in, let cook about 2 minutes more.)

About a liter of hot Vegetable Stock

(Add half, stir, then add the rest.)

Ground Curry Spice (The one I used is Kashmir. It has Cardamom, Cumin, Cinnamon, Pepper, Nutmeg, Fennel, Tumeric, and Star Anise.)

Ground Ginger

3 Juniper Berries

Ginger Root, one trimmed cubic inch, chopped

(Let it all simmer on low together for a while..15 or 30 minutes.)

Large Carrots, chopped large

another Shallot or Onion, chopped large

Orange Mini Bell Peppers, chopped large

Fresh Thyme

(Bring back to a boil, boil for 5 or 10 minutes. Then turn heat to a lower simmer for a while, until the carrots are as soft as you would like them to be in your bowl. Serve with rustic bread or grated Emmentaler cheese, or just as is.)

People Watching at the Season's Change.

London Philharmonic's 1997 version of all my love by user3222842

It seems we will have an Autumn this year and not go straight to snow and freeze. I'm glad. Spent three quarters of an hour sitting with my Ipod at Central area downtown and took in the sights and the bright crisp late afternoon. There were...

...men in long sleeved buttoned down shirts and jeans with their shirttails out
...girls biking in heels and jewel-hued tights with shorts
...Dads with laughing babies in knit caps lashed to their chests
...Moms using chic sunglasses to hold their breeze-blown hair back from their faces
...dudes with black short product-hair in cars stopped at the crosswalk flaunting their enhanced bass
...gals with shiny fair straight hair and corduroy blazers strolling in pairs along the Limmat
...fresh air and smokey air and gossip and cackling eavesdrop-able in several languages
...gleaming white comet tails of airplanes' trajectories across the pale blue sky, appearing to fly straight up or straight down but you know they aren't, not so drastically, not really.

Heavy Little Game

You know it is so true that the amount of junk you decide you need to carry around expands to the volume of whatever size handbag you are using. Decided to give my shoulders a break today and drop it! Literally, and...

Story changed (again) and on hold for other bits and pieces going on and needing attention, and for undeniable lack of flow. Who knows if it'll come back around. Oh and on further inspection that doppelgänger turned out to be the local homeless slightly fermented and poet...of course he did..should have seen THAT coming! Ha! Thank you, present, for not being the past.

And look! Here is a mesmerizing bottom! :)

Two pages into a new story. Might seem piddling but it's a start. Finding the time and the silence is a challenge. I am amazed by the way writing something that touches on a memory of a person can conjure up their doppelgänger..walked out of the cafe and there he was, same long stride same mouth. But not the same.

Unstuck.

Do you ever have that experience where there is a thing or a place or a someone or a situation that is on your mind all the time, in the background of your life, behind the static of day-to-day thoughts....but it is a thing that your don't really know what to do about, so you just sit on your hands and try to let it exist there without feeling obsessive, although by definition that is probably what your are about it? I do. I have been. In the past there may have be wailing and gnashing of teeth due to this nagging focus, this insistent attraction...and the not knowing, followed by a 4am wine fueled feeling-exploration exercise and decision making process, followed by a furious and manic taking-of-action. Now I have learned it is much better for me to try to observe myself for a while and what I am thinking...feeling...and to let time pass. This does not produce the sort of gorgeous luscious flow as when I have been passionately positively devil-may-care decisive about what to do and bull-dozering a new thing into being. Staying calm, waiting and listening..it can be a ratchet-y cog wheel way of being...but I have learned it is a bit better for me now. The flow comes along eventually in less blatant ways, without my having personally built it all and pushed it out into the world. If I can keep my eyes open all the while listening to that inner buzz, by the time it is free to become an outer buzz there may already be a home for it in the real corporal world.

I want Sivert Hoyem and the Volunteers to come to Zurich this Autumn.

Found this song. It reminded me of that bit in the movie Crazy Heart where Bad Blake plays that new song and it sounds to Maggie Gyllenhaal's character like an old standard but she just can't remember who sang it...Because the good ones are always like that. :)

Saw Sivert Hoyem with Magrudaga about a year and half ago. He has one the most compelling voices I have ever heard and his stage presence did not disappoint. I would love to see him with the Volunteers on their tour in October, or whenever. Fingers (and legs) crossed. ;)

07 Ladyfriend by user3222842

Quick aside and further musings...

Quick aside: I want to mention that I am pondering the "why I do in fact want to have a baby" post as a remedy to the many fears about it that I listed not so long ago. For now, all I can say is that lately, the back of my husband's neck has been smelling like the salty delicious ocean to me, or like that bit of air just above a cool mountain stream...you know where the air is all thick with water reflections and negative ions and you just want to gulp it and stay right there and never go home even after it gets dark. So there is that.

I was going to do further musings but that will have to wait for a bit.

The Fall

Just finished watching the movie The Fall. It was moving and great and fantastic and subtle (which may be my favorite word ever - subtle). There was a very clever little girl actress in it, so cute.

Thoughts

I am buzzing on bleach fumes right now. Also I had half a pint of Strongbow with my sandwich and fries at lunchtime..but that was hours and hours and hours ago...

Today was full of errands. Trams and ticket machines (to get the dog a day ticket) and shy toddlers and haggling returns in retail shops and shoe modifications. I have a great pair of old clogs from several years back, but I had demolished one of the heels, so they tried to fix it, but could not. Instead the cobbler-girl used her super grinder to grind both heels down, so now they look new, if slightly lower, which is perfect for me. Girl the dog went with me but at some point, possibly on the flight of stairs on the way out of our building, she hurt her front right foot and was limping almost the whole time, poor thing, and so cut the afternoon leg of errands short. No pun intended. Sheesh.

Later on my own I had a walk home in the light rain with my arms loaded down and my ears plugged up with sounds of the mini player on shuffle. Come Pick Me Up by Ryan Adams...had to pause to turn it way up. That feeling that comes at the rise of the chorus, I realized that too is "what I am afraid of". That part makes me high, and I tear up the first time it happens in the song no matter how much I expect it or how recently I have heard before. It starts coming on in a rush with those "I wish you would"s and in no time I am feeling like junior high puppy love heart soaring and I know that this song does that to a lot of people, doesn't it? BUT what if that is what it is like to have a child? Moment to moment of getting your heart ripped out over nothing, nothing, in the big scheme of things.

My mom and I are great now, but when I was young, we fought so viciously at times. When I was young she was really young too, I can hardly believe she had a high school graduate at my age and here I am contemplating a baby.

What I Am Afraid Of

I think about making a baby a lot nowadays. About 8 years ago, I went through the OMG-I-need-to have-a-baby-right-now-or-I-am-gonna-die thing. I did not die. I started working at a daycare. And then the relationship I was in exploded. And then I went back to school. The urgency subsided as my life tumbled over and I held on for dear life. After things leveled off for a while I met my husband. Falling in love with him brought that OMG feeling back in a slightly saner form. This time the feeling did not try to pick me up by the throat and swing me around. I could feel it, acknowledge it, smile and wave "hi" to it, but let it fade into the background while we busied ourselves getting to know each other and getting organized...and then we moved country. Twice.

So now I live in Switzerland. In a lot of ways it is pretty great. There ways of this country that are easy to embrace (rabid recycling and love of all things natural, tidiness, killer public transport, lovely people), and then others I can't so much (icecream breaks in the middle of movies at the cinema, assigned seating in cinemas, smoking in restaurants, really tall people having surprisingly small hands and feet, the late movie being at 8:30pm, the stranger sitting next to you in the cinema coming back from the icecream break smelling like cheap tobacco). Butanyway...this is a bit off topic, but it speaks to these things I fear being raised in an place that is unfamiliar, but far from hostile. I can't speak the native language here, but our location could be worse.

One other thing has happened over time. I got old. Or maybe oldish. Somedays I feel 24, but others I feel let's just say, quite a bit older. Enough of that...

Anywhoo, let's list some of the fears. I fear that...

1. I will resent my child and my husband because my alone time will be so greatly lessened. Soooo selfish, I know.

2. I will be smothering or overbearing with my child.

3. I will be one of those parents who is so insanely in love with my child, I will say unflattering things about them to others so as to prove that I do not believe my child to be without flaws, and the result will be that my child does not realize I have his or her back, even when they are wrong, and that I am on their side. I find I do this with my dog sometimes although she is wonderful. It does not get to her and she knows I love her, but then she is more well adjusted than many humans, because she is a dog.

4. My pregnancy-at-an-advanced-age will cause a medical problem for my child, or me for that matter. That I will be immature in my ability to handle such a situation, and the strain it might cause on my marriage. I have like 10,000 reminders around to take my vitamins. Folic.

5. That I will compete with my husband regarding our child.

6. That my husband and I will have conflicting ideas about what is best.

7. That all the reasons that I don't always feel good enough will be transferred to my child or somehow amplified, and in those low moments I will feel not good enough for two.

8. That our child will inherit all of my husband's geek genes and none of my cool slacker genes and they will geek out forever together on a level that I can admire but never fully relate to.

That's enough for now. Coming up next, some remedies and reasons I will be happy to do it anyway, if we can....

be practical

...getting a handle on it :).

I think the Spring cleaning while snow is still on the ground project is basically finished. The things that are left are either minor, or are things that get done every week anyway..bills and clearing the office, washing the windows (easy, but may as well wait 'til there is less snow and more sun.). A lot got cleared away this time other than just the dust bunnies and cob webs. I think I uncovered my sense of peace, and washed away a layer of feeling guilty about just being myself. Sorted a not-tiny pile of leftover anxiety. Definitely feeling more relaxed.

Everything done I took the morning off yesterday and just made myself at home under the covers in bed until it was almost afternoon. Delicious treat.

spreading from the base of my spine

Someone told me earlier this week that because of the position of the planets when I was born I may have a tendency to intellectualise my feelings.

I am struggling lately with a restlessness that I have known in the past though kept at bay for many years now. I find myself with thoughts and feelings that don't square with the real place I sit at this moment in the universe. Emotions, one by one, can be dealt with and reasoned away. But sometimes the feeling is literal, a tangible sensation in my blood and on my skin like the warm weight of someone's hand; A warmth flooding forth all at once and undeniable undeniable undeniable.

This too shall pass. Probably.

this tendril

visceral, visceral, visceral...

Just a detail.

The worst thing I can think to do is to always be the one ripping at the little hanging threads, but sometimes, oh sometimes...like a scab picker you may take me but if I only once or twice don't don't hold back and don't bite my lip and follow the thread that's dangling and give it a little tug just to see, to tell if it's a thought popping out that I should snip or that will only give and slip right out and not rip at all.

Petal Memories.

From Doing Puzzles In Dim Light

Sight of two dozen red roses in a vase today reminds me of a long long time ago, two months of a dozen red roses almost every day. This sounds like an exaggeration, but it's not. How did I not realize at the time how over the top that was, from this person claiming to be a "very simple" man? I guess I was vein enough to think I naturally deserved it all, being the pretty young thing at the time. But, gee. It was roses coming out of our ears...it sort of became a part-time job taking care of them. I would dutifully trim their stems and watch the bud-ones bloom, and carefully remove the petals with browning edges. I believe I cooked with some of them, steeped them for tea or sugered them. Of course they were hanging all over the kitchen eventually, drying out, stinking up the place and turning that goth-red-black color. The man who gave them to me was very sweet in many ways, but we had BIIIIG problems. I can't even begin to remember what I wanted at the time. I think I wanted less roses, but what did I want more of? hmmm.

Archival.

Well, there is no pretending I have done anything like keep up with this month's 30daysofwrite. The weeks have been busy, and when not so busy, reflective. It is Father's Day. My sis is due to deliver her new baby girl any day now. The weather can't decide, and I know just how it feels.

When uncertainty strikes: make sentences about the weather, clean and organize, read/keep/discard old journals, and if all else fails, put on "War of the Worlds" in the background for motivation. Blahdie blahdie blah to the rest, but I have found some little scrawlings in old journals here and there....to read and then release. Nothing earth-shattering:

********

"20 July 2007

Friday. More than 1 month in Zurich. Time to make a document.

I have been away from Texas since....let's see, married April 2006, So just more than 1 year. Away from Austin almost two. I am craving Texas things....gravitating toward burnt orange. I feel patriotic when it comes to Austin, and also for the USA, even though politically things are so skewed right now -- somehow being away makes that clearer to me...

We don't have a TV. (My mother would be in heaven.) This is Daniel's idea and I agree though sometimes I miss hooking into a random movie...

The first time I laid eyes on Zurich it sparkled."

********

Dear My Esteemed Local Brewers, Baristas, Buskers and Bean Roasters, Please don't fillet me, or think I don't care about the homegrown cafes and cups. I do, but (from some ramdom sheet of paper from about 2 years ago)....

"Everyone knows that Starbucks is a vortex. It is that place to go and be anonymously at home, well taken care of, and left alone. Starbucks is where to go if you can't remember where you left your muse, or your idea, or your underwear. It is an excellent morning-after-in-foreign-city place, especially if you are still tender-headed. I believe the light fixtures are designed with that taken into account. They are almost the same in almost every city in every country I have been...that sort of gold/orange/red mottled Mexican glass globe -- a comforting caffeine North Star.

I have come to Starbucks in the past to pass the time... when the only money I had for the day I spent on the least expensive cup of coffee, also buying the informal permission to sit there all day if need be.

I have learned Chemistry at Starbucks, hacking through the formulas and text and pouring coffee into myself until I could see the big and little pictures.

Types of people at the north Parmer Starbucks:
the Students
the Moms
the Daters
the Surfers
the Suits
the Teen Smokers
the Microsofters
the Gamers
The hardcore gamers must leave their computers at home...they are too cumbersome with customized accessories and the reason they have ventured out of the house at all is in hopes that a genuine face to face flesh and blood human conversation might alight upon them. Having a computer with you and open generally gives of an "I am working" vibe too, so there is less chance of being chatted up....I once (circa 2002) was chatted up by the skinniest teenager with the deepest Barry White voice and bags under his eyes. Within seconds he had shown me drawings of the characters he was "working on" and he told me his Dad was an IBMer. He asked who I was but seemed to expect an explanation that included a race or subclass of the figment beings in the game he was absorbed in. If I had said "I am a lesser swashbuckler." or "a water fury" he might have known what to say to me. When I told him I did not play he really had difficulty parsing me at all. The conversation did not go much further. His drawings were at a professional level, although he seemed too young to be out of school in the middle of the morning."

********

"04-26-2006

7pm leaving Houston

looking out of the airplane window # D8

38 row, seat H

Overjoyed. Tears of Joy. Yay."


********

The Laziest Girl In Town.

The day was sul sticky.
Today I did the late afternoon dog walk in a sort of light open cardigan to cover the scary contrast of my farmer tan. (Well almost tan but really still more burn. The pain is gone, the pink remains.) I had talked myself into a sports bra and tank top with jeans around the house even though the rain makes me feel cozy and I want to wear blankets, even though it's too warm. Ridiculous. No the tank was perfect, and even though the cardigan had long sleeves it was a loose weave linen and left open it let some breeze blow in, which felt nice. Girl did her thing. She likes to have the homegirls hanging out at the community museum garden up the street pet her head, as long as they are not smoking. Whatever language the girls happen to be speaking that day, I always hear them say "blue tongue" in some mixed phrase because Girl is a small black Chow Chow and there are not too many around Zurich. We did a slow mile circuit through the neighborhood and I was feeling chic and fully relaxed, right up until the end, aluminum coffee mug in one hand, extendo leash in the other. Hair casually up, adorable exotic doggy.
Then this tall woman about my age all in dark green (like a pantsuit!) crosses the crosswalk about half a block from home; She is pushing a deep black pram. From the gurgling I think the babe facing her was awake. As we passed each other her eyes were not on her babe, but on me. Her face turned toward mine, me giving her my most open and neighborhoodly non-toothy but just casual-slight-nod smile. Her face read "I am taking a dump in my own pants right now but cannot stop." or maybe not exactly. She looked horrified, in that difficult-to-disguise-though-trying way? She just had so much tension in her face! She did not return my slight-nod-smile AT ALL.
I noticed when I got on the elevator at home that I may have been sweating a bit more than I realized. It's not that my clothes were damp or anything, it is just that my whole face and neck and sternum appeared to be covered in melted butter. I think that woman is just one of those women who never sweats, and found it shocking and uncomfortable that I was.
I sweat a bit even when cold. It is healthy but not so attractive. I remember one of the snooty trainers in a smalltown Curves daintily handing me a Kleenex during an early morning session. Charmed, I am sure.
But you know maybe I am misinterpreting that woman's expression. Maybe she was just had a rock in her shoe, or was embarrassed about the pantsuit, though I thought it looked okay. Maybe she was just suddenly confused and surprised to find her almost forty self with a chestnut Marilyn shoulder length hairdo, a pantsuit and wedges, pushing possibly her own baby in a pram up a low grade hill in Switzerland one day in the early twenty-first century.
We all have our problems, and our days.

What If WitSec

(text below is a little character excercise.)



My coffee mug is yellow. Hideous. This may turn out not to be worth it. Not sure yet. Not dead yet, though...What is unable to choose your own coffee mug if not dead. Am I being melodramatic here? Still. Ruffled curtains. Hideous.

Well that can change. Anyway..Farmington, Farmington, Farmington. Do not forget what they named you. I'll spend the day writing that one a few hundred times. I should say it out loud too. Hard to get used to the feeling of not wearing a wire all the time. To the best of my knowledge, I am on my own. Huh. Yeah, right. At least for those conversations with myself in my head.

So, a little cushion, but, job, job, job. It shouldn't be too hard to crack that nut. Better get it done sooner and stop having these little chats with myself 24/7. I reckon I am far enough. Can just relax and maybe have a life. Now that it is over.

The classifieds. The internet. Are not... Dulling the pain and ache of missing my family, my dog. My mugs. But you know how people drop in and out of lives they are leading all the time. This is not very different. Just less gradual.

The Next It Thing.

I have a confession. When it happens, (and oh please let it be happening,) I will not not not be sad to see Zombies go. Oh sure, I admire them as a trend, and have to respect their ability to evoke both future grinding inevitable apocolypse and that by-gone analog scary era of way back, like, at the same time. But sometimes one just must LET GO .

What could possibly replace them? Hmmm. Let's see. Something with that Hello Kittyesque universality.....something that can be used as a halloween costume....

Cactus? Martians? Pippy Longstocking! no...



Lederhosen!? Don't you find lederhosen sort of frightening and dead sexy at the same time? I do. Maybe that is it: Lederhosen or anything or anyone donning lederhosen, past, present or future. Especially if that anything or anyone is singing.

Oh! Cringing and appealing, cringing and appealing. Can-not-Turn-A-way!!

Faster. Edit. Habit.

It is that time again. Good on Laurie for getting the wheels moving for us all.

This time around I have a busy schedule ongoing, so I hope to pick it up again and participate while not dropping any of the other strings I am holding up in my life, or letting it consume all of my spare time. I want to continue streamlining the process so I can feel satisfied with the result and go to bed happy, without, hopefully, sacrificing any of the soul I hope comes through when I write from a place of inspiration.

So many things to do with my personality and my supposed aptitudes point to "writer" as a viable occupation/pass-time. Save spelling, and oh yeah, confidence. I have bursts and streaks of confidence, tempered by waves of frozen indifference. Gotta work on that. Long-term focus is a challenge. Caring beyond the initial lust of the subject is another. I appreciate the grammar police, but that will never be me. Correct syntax or lack there of are both useful to evoke response from the reader, I think. A blog setting is not always practical for that, but it is a start.

I am excited about Google Wave.

Also, please follow me. I 'd be delighted.

Pollen-A-Go-Go

Starting about 2 weeks ago, when true sunniness started happening in Zurich after a long and severe winter, there have been pollen explosions happening daily except for the one or two days we have had rain. There was a full on pollen storm about a week ago...a bright sunny day with more breeze than is normal for Zurich. The next day when I woke up, a very shallow breath while lying back made my ribs hurt, which I found very scary. Since then my husband has had flu, I have had a severe cold, and we both have been simultaneously combating allergies. Doctor visits, blood tests and drugs. Coughing. Misery. The flu and cold seem to have receded, but we are both left with raspy hoarse voices. I am still achey and I feel like I am impersonating a french horn.

The thing about the pollen is how it infiltrates everything. I was not aware of what was happening at the time, so I did nothing to stop it coming in the house. In Zurich, central A/C is rare, and there are no window screens. Our house is on the ground and first levels, and there are wall size windows that open on two opposite sides of the whole house. The windows are always open. There are blooming bushes right outside the window, Rhododendrons and something else I don't know what, and I feel like we were just blasted. Everything is covered.

I keep dusting and using the vacuum with the awesome filtering, and I still taste it in the air. I am in the process of washing the sheepskin rugs from the floor and the chairs all over the house. I have eight. One was inherited and the others have been picked up new and used here and there. They are really cozy, but mine are now full of pollen deposits. Every cushion and textile is suspect. I want my house back. Back off pollen! (a-chooo!)

Not Dead Just Resting.

How is it possible I do not own Ishtar. That is the best movie...

Soanyway, recovering now from my folks coming to town for 10 days. Gave them my Best of Zurich and Switzerland That I Know About So Far tour, and we all enjoyed it a lot. Except for one thing: my marvelous and unstoppable husband was in fact stopped for a time by one hell of a flu, though probably not that one. He got the worst, but we all had a little health wobble, especially that one day after the long long walk in the woods when I noticed the thick piles of golden dust on the porches and finely coating the poor dog and the interior of our home--pollen. Piles of pollen. That was a new one for me. Mercifully, it rained. Husband took a pass on some of our adventures, what with his fevered brow and all, but that did not stop us from returning to him and the warmth of the kitchen table each night for a few hours of Farkle or Spades or Dominoes, and we even got the basics of "42" ! Somewhere in there, I kid you not, I made fondue, and it rocked. Great to have them around a little, neat to touch base with those roots. Also, makes it easier I think for husband to forgive me for certain things when he can observe first hand that I "come by it honestly," as they say about inherited quirks.