Month: February 2013

My heart feels like it’s being squeezed by two subway car doors

But that is usual when you get freaked out by your to do list.  Paul and the kids and Jeff and I feasted at Chong Lum Hin yesterday. Dim Sum!  Gung Hay Fat Choi!

Katie saw Warm Bodies and loved it.

Margot is still shedding so massively that I can take a teacup of compressed fur off her every day with NO VISIBLE EFFECT.

Rob watched TSSIT and LOVED IT.  What’s not to love? Son also watched it and found it ‘adorable’.

Purim is coming.  In the words of the immortal Sean Haugh (a facebook friend of the libertarian/sf fan persuasion whom I have never met IRL).  (And you have to understand, I only friend non IRL people who are friends with at least six of my other friends).  “Purim is my favorite religious holiday bar none. A feast to celebrate the death of a tyrant, a religious service that comes with its own drinking game, and! the best cookies ever! Why Purim isn’t the biggest holiday on the calendar is beyond me.”

Here’s the Beacon Birthday Song lyrics!  Nobody from church reads my blog (thank GOOOOODDDDD) so I’m not giving anything away.

To think that it all started with committee work
These long years past
Some now here assembled came and did not shirk
And they had a blast
We are trying to help the world
All the little boys and girls
And the ones who aren’t sure which they are
Growing their theology
Becoming all that they can be
Knowing in their lives they’ll wander far
And Beacon will be part of who they are

All the controversies now seem very small
When we look back
It’s a miracle that we are here at all
With all that flack
Boards and staff in panoply
Ministers and homilies
Days when the presenter failed to show
Visits to the partner church
Pledges paid or in the lurch
Always wondering if we would grow
As if our wishing somehow made it so.

But it is no joke
To fight oppression’s yoke
Whether in the soul or in the street
What you think is true
Is shown in what you do
And sharing truth is really why we meet

Here’s to Beacon’s 30th, now raise a glass
And toast us proudly
Maybe all our dreams have not yet come to pass
Still we sing loudly
We can set up anywhere
Little but somehow we share
Knowing that our giving shows our love
The future holds its mystery
As we toast our history
And the peace that we’re all dreaming of
And the peace that we’re all dreaming of.

 

 

 

 

bad tempered comment

By not dying in harness, Benedict is spitting on the traditions of his office, and showing that he’s either afraid of prosecution or death, either of which demonstrate a marked public lapse in faith.  And the commentary from the Vatican on how African cardinals couldn’t get past first ballot in the conclave because they are ‘not known’ seems like the most egregious twaddle from a catholic – ie UNIVERSAL church.  (Notice how I didn’t use the words ‘institutional racism’?)

 

At least Rome no longer has crowds in their thousands outside the Holy See yelling ‘GIVE US AN ITALIAN’ which has happened more than once.

 

More commentary.

Big News, small news, glad news, sad news

I put a deposit down on the cafe yesterday.  So begins an enterprise.

Expert, schmexpert.

The only thing I don’t understand about the rogue LAPD cop Christopher Dorner is not why he hasn’t been caught – he will be, and I cheerfully predict that he’ll go quietly and not die in a hail of gunfire – it’s why nobody’s bought the domain name yet.

My fellow board member Audrey has lost her mother.  She was well into her nineties.  Blind Lemming Chiffon, when we had dinner at Conflikt, said that until you’ve lost a parent you can’t understand what it’s like.  That was also the same supper where he gave me the Ebay overview on what allows him to sell like a master, and where he recommended Searching for Sugar Man, one of the best and most astonishing music documentaries I have ever seen.

Jeff is having pie for breakfast.  He’s a rebel.

I was thinking (as I had another crying bout thinking about John last night) about loss.  I thought, “Ah, so selfish.  It is not my love for him that hurts me.  I will have that forever; I can’t stop loving him just because he’s dead.  I’m sad because he loved me, and he’ll never stop me from falling off a mountain, or give me a lift on his motorcycle, or make me laugh, or sing with me, or feed me or lift my spirits or be a familiar face in a crowd of strangers ever again.  And that is why I am sad.  Not because someone I love died.  It’s because someone who loved me died.”

I saw both of the kids yesterday, yay, and fed Rob and Keith as well as Jeff.  I made pork schnitzel, taters, broccoli and carrots, and there was a tablecloth and pie and two kinds of ice cream, so it was rather festive, even without beer.  I’ve gone off beer again.  There is a medical condition which I’m too polite to whine about in public which improves by about 30% when I don’t drink beer, and it definitely hurts the insomnia when I drink beer.  I just love beer and wish it wasn’t so mean to me.

It’s a fine axemurderer’s fog out there this morning.

Obviously I have a lot of work to do before Katie calls me for our trek up to City Hall, so I’ll get to it.

Serenity Tea all gone

The Serenity Tea I purchased at the dealer room at Conflikt is now ALL GONNEE.  I has a sad.  Jeff and I were really enjoying it, but I guess we will have to make do with Yorkshire Tea now (by appointment to some English toff, don’t you know).

Miss Margot is very very slowly starting to develop brains.  She is getting out of my way when I make for “my chair”, which is good, because I actually sat on her this past week (Jeff was horrified of course) but all that fur saved her.  Speaking of which, I have a picture to post.

Watched this movie and if you are interest in art, archaeology, the films of Werner Herzog, Neolithic times, and data visualization (the fly through of the cave as data points had me gasping for air) it will blow your mind.  As with all Herzog films, there are points when he departs from the narrative so thoroughly that you are left shaking your head, but as with all Herzog films, you are enriched and challenged.

Every once in a while this past week I could hear a blast of Looney Tunes music coming from Jeff’s room and I couldn’t help myself smiling.

Church this morning.  It will be a rousing service by Robert Latham, and I am sure he will get as many of us as are able out of our chairs.  The workshop was fab by all accounts and well attended.

Gay schlafen

The newest character in Midnite Moving can be sent to sleep for a couple of hours by saying gay schlafen, which is go to sleep in Yiddish.  Which is the kind of thing that happens when two people who are alien mad scientists who shouldn’t be having or raising children decide “I’ma risk it”.  And don’t you wish you had THAT app.

Awoke far too early this morning.  (boring SG1 reference) Amanda Tapping tweeted about her Bouvier, George, who’s 120 lbs of lapdog, and whose gas rivals that of Christopher Judge.  These are the kinds of things I find teddibly amusing, which is as much as you need to know about the compos of my mentis these days.

I am arguing with myself this morning as to whether I really want to go to an all day church event about growth.  I think it’s a waste of money, but I am curious about how this expensive Unitarian boffin – who just so happens to be the establishing minister for the church – is going to fire us up.  I don’t want to go, as I am afraid I will ‘air my views’ in a ‘less than respectful or helpful way’.  Maybe I should.  Teach the controversy and all.

The waste of money part comes from the notion that growth comes from being an attractive church.  Our Religious Education program, which is the magnet which draws young adults with children to the church, is fanTAStic in terms of curriculum and staff . no srsly . but badly housed.  I mean, really badly housed.  The space we’re renting doesn’t suit and most parents come in and see it and recoil in horror.  We have tried to get this ameliorated but we DON’T OWN THE BUILDING, and of course unless every elder in the congregation drops dead and leaves his or her entire estate to the church, we never will own a building either.  On the basis of my conversations with other churches this not having a building ain’t a bad thing.  Church buildings get older than human beings eventually and there’s nothing like remediating asbestos tiles and leaky roofs and recalcitrant dragon-furnaces to put a damper on Sunday worship and cast a pall of gloom over the Board.

As it is, we can do church anywhere, with despatch and aplomb.  We’d hate to move again, but we will if we have to, and church will continue no matter what.

Looks like Katie’s buying a restaurant.  She’s seen it done right and done wrong, and I’m sure she’ll be fine.  We do NOT have big plans.  We have small ones.  I am going to be the silent partner and biscotti baker, which I am very happy about, since I will finally have a space close to my house which is exactly what I want for baking biscotti, and the way the law works anything that’s baked there must be sold there in at least some quantity so it’s not a factory.  I’ll be making a deposit on Monday (she’s at work even though it’s a stat) and Katie and I already have an immense list of things to work through.  I want her energy and intelligence to be rewarded.  Keith expressed reservations, interestingly, but I think he may be experiencing jealousy.  Which reminds me, now I really DO have to change my will, so Keith and Katie get a more equitable share, and so Paul is no longer the executor.

We’re not planning on making any money for most of the first year, start up date April Fools (and you should have seen Katie’s face as we set the date).  The easiest thing for me to do is to think about the money as being lost.  Out of the gate.  Something about this feels right though, there’s a weird ‘this will be okay’ vibe.

The Treasurer problem I had has been resolved.  I crashed the chart of accounts somehow in Simply Accounting and reasoned my way out of the problem with a few adjustments. Now it’s time to MAKE RECEIPTS FOR ALL THE DONORS.  It is a finite problem with a deadline, and it’s all good.

They also surf who only sand and wade

Still haven’t heard back from daughter Katie about her checking out of the cafe.  I suppose I’ll hear eventually.

More addiction research.    Which reminded me of this:  (Pope, in case you care).

“Vice is a monster of so frightful mien
As to be hated needs but to be seen;
Yet seen too oft, familiar with her face,
We first endure, then pity, then embrace.”

 

There was a fingernail paring of moon in the sky this morning, clothed about the waist with diaphanous clouds.

Worked for about five hours over at Sue’s yesterday.  I didn’t quite wear out my welcome, but it was a near thing.  Came home and cooked chicken breasts with cauliflower for dins.  The chicken breasts roasted up like that are so very very nommy.  Now I gotta get my rear in gear and get some brekky happening for me and Jeff.

NOTHER SONG LAST NIGHT.  Compared to the last one which is THE SADDEST SONG EVAR, it is so intensely cheerful it is quite ludicrous.  You know, I could probably write a song every other day for the rest of my life if someone let me.  Oh, right…. I get to do that myself.  Ah well.

Things are unsettled around here again.  Is the household splitting up, and what form will things take?  If either of us get a job, the problem is reduced for a while, but we do both have to have an income of some sort, and so…. it’s a puzzler.  I’m going to cook brekky, try to straighten out a bit of the mess I made yesterday, get access to my epost mailers, run some laundry, and work on my resume, again, since there seems to be something wrong with it.  I did get responses from two job ads but learned in the process I had submitted to an agency, which is just a specialized case of shouting down a well unless there is something on your resume that is a must have for a hot job.

Also, ALLEGRA TRY NOT TO READ THE GAWKER UNEMPLOYMENT STORIES. People talking about having no savings after two years of unemployment is not helpful to your mental health.

Zero dark thirty

Feels like when I woke up this morning.  Ah well.  At least I have conquered that part of me that takes a computer to bed.  I am sleeping longer and better as a consequence, even if I am going to bed ludicrously early.

The movie Zero Dark Thirty was excellent.  What I enjoyed about it most was that it was very easy to read the movie as a total indictment of how the Americans do foreign policy, and that it wasn’t just a rah rah torture porn American triumphalist spectacle.  I know that is how some people parsed it, but Kathryn Bigelow has stated repeatedly that she finds war and violence repellent but it’s a fact of life.  She once remarked that the dirty secret of war is that some men enjoy it, and knowing that makes some of her directorial choices seem a little more nuanced that a straight left wing parsing of the movie might suggest.

 

 

Teeth clean

So my next appointment is to go look at this cafe.  Katie, who is supposed to be accompanying me, is actually at the accountants (big yay, it will help her finances) and Paul and Keith, who are not going to be involved at all, are coming.  Not thrilled about that but what the hell.  I will give a full report to Jeff and Katie later.

 

Laughing at myself

There was a game yesterday.  The Superb Owl game.  There was Stygian darkness.

Church yesterday was great.  I told Anita I’m throwing both the Secretary and the Treasurer jobs over the side effective the next AGM and of course while I feel guilty relief is coursing through my veins in a startling way.  Also I wrote some checks and entered some data.

Work search is still ghastly.  No responses.  It’s like shouting down a well.  Its a damned good thing that I’ve got money in the bank.