You know I knit, right?

I recently designed art for my knitting site and bought a shirt for myself through Cafe Press. The tee was in the mail today.
I love it.
I mean, it’s the same ultra-thin, cheap-ass shirt stock it always is, but I’m proud of my artwork and the shirt works: when I went to the At Home Store today to buy some yarn, I got in a convesation about the site with the chick at the register. Good advertisment, the t-shirt is.
I also have a shitty cold. I am the coughing, sneezing queen of SE Iowa, people. And if you can’t find it in your heart to feel sorry for me, you should feel sorry for Mr. Brett, who is home for the third day in a row with back pain (he seems to have a ruptured disc, the poor bastard) and who cannot even put on his own socks.
And that? That noise you just heard? That was me, sneezing again.
Windows simply DOES SUCK. Behold the stats that prove it: it’s the AltaVista Operating System Sucks-Rules-O-Meter.
Furthermore, apparently vegetarians rule… but vegetables themselves totally suck. Go figure.
Now that I have a camera phone, y’all will get to see all kinds of meaningless images of rural Iowa life.
This will save me from having to write meaningful content. A thousand words and all that, what?
Anyway. Will you just look at my nails, people? That shit is real, too! I grew those things, man. TOTALLY BY ACCIDENT! I just looked down one day and there they were, perfect nails. Of course, I haven’t scrubbed our shower in literally months, but I fail to see how that signifies in comparison with a goddamned perfect manicure, for chrissakes.
Yesterday I napped. A lot. (Why must I have yet another fucking cold?) I also waxed the kitchen floor, and it looks pretty cool. I still have never cleaned the top of the fridge, and we’ve lived there for four years. (The way I figure, if something’s above my head and I can’t see it, it doesn’t really need to be cleaned.)
Brett went to town in the late morning and didn’t come back for hours; when he did, he had Bo and Joe in tow.
We went to the demolition derby to watch Jimbo run. (I missed it because I was off buying funnel cakes, but apparently Jimbo took the hardest hit of the event – a rear ender that was so hard his glasses actually flew off his face.) Jimbo’s little brother, who derbys every year and even went so far this year as to rebuild his engine, was DQ’d for hitting another’s driver side door.
Joe sat with me and finished off my funnel cake with me. I love Joe. His hair is doing marvelous things these days; it’s all unruly and slightly dreaded. He’s got great hair. (He’s playing next Saturday night at Backroads; y’all should be there as drunk and belligerent as you’re capable of being.)
I only watched a few of the demo heats. Once you’ve seen cars smash into each other on mud, you’ve seen cars smash into each other on mud. I ended up in the jeep reading sci-fi on my PPC before the night was through. I had a good time, though. I mean, FUNNEL CAKES, hello!
Saturday Brett and I went out to breakfast at Country Kitchen, and then to Menard’s where he bought a grinder and I bought floor stripper and wax.
I stripped and mopped the kitchen floor all damn day. It’s so humid that it takes forever for the floor to dry, even with a fan running. I never managed to get the wax applied.
I also started to come down with another rotten cold. I’ve been sick since May. I’m pretty damned tired of it.
On top of yet another damn cold, I also have a yeast infection. This is probably more information than you want to know, but a huge portion of my awareness is fixated on HOW MUCH THIS TOTALLY SUCKS in this damn heat.
You know that joke about bleeding for a week and not dying? It gets funnier every damn month, especially when followed by a yeast infection. I literally cannot wait for menopause.
I got home from Mt. Pleasant around eight or nine in the morning after being up all night for Devi Bhava. I brought my shit in from the car and promptly crashed.
I slept all day, waking just before Brett got home from work.
Amma was awesome, in the literal sense of the word. (I realize I say that every time I see Her, but it’s true.) It can’t possibly make any sense if you’ve never met Her, but She truly is the embodiment of pure Love. Seeing Her is balm for the soul. The love that pours out of Her to all who come to Her is uplifting, humbling, renewing, and awe-inspiring. I love Her so much that I cry every year when She leaves.
In past years I’ve found myself face down in the parking lot after Her car drives off, weeping. This year I merely stood mute while She left for Chicago, then turned to go back in and start cleaning up the hall.
Here’s an illegal photo I took with my phone. The person in white is Amma. Yes, I realize it’s terribly out of focus:

The program went well. Tahmi and Christina worked their butts off and spent massive amounts of time at the Seva Desk coordinating the insanely huge mass of volunteer details that make up one of Mother’s programs. Their discipline and sticktoitiveness amazed me last year, and amazed me again this year. They’re so dedicated and work-oriented… I usually feel like things will work out and rarely rush to get back to the desk from a meal or a break, but they’re both incredibly on top of things.
I ran into Anna. She’s three months pregnant. (Brett totally called it. He announced a few weeks after she ran off with her new boyfriend that she’d breed.) She sobbed and apologized profusely for not bothering to call me for nearly a year. I was blunt, and told her that she was stupid for not bothering to contact me after breaking up with Bo and that it had both hurt me and pissed me off. I mean, what else was I supposed to say? That it was all right to just abandon our friendship because her relationship status had changed? I wasn’t about to give her a simple “there, there” because it wasn’t true. She should know that’s not how people act. I also hugged the shit out of her and we ate together and hung out between programs on Thursday. She’s a sweet girl, and it’s because of her that I learned to knit, and we’ve been friends for years. And she looks pretty cute knocked up, I have to admit.
I also reconnected with Cat. She’s also knitting these days. Her physical problems seem to be somewhat abated, in the sense that she can get out and about, but her body’s still a wreck and I guess she has a lot of chronic pain. She’s still funny as hell, though – she’s mistress of the comedic pause. For example, she ordered a tiny Kali doll from the doll table, and I asked her if she had been excited to receive it. “Yes…” she said, slowly. Then, a moment later, she continued, giggling, “I jumped up and down until my boobs hurt!”
Tahmi and Cat and I spent the break between programs both days sitting in the gazebo, knitting and smoking my cigarettes. I hadn’t realized it, but Tahmi and Cat had been friends once too, so it was really comfortable and fun to catch up. We all marvelled at how stupid we were to live in the same town and not hang out together when we all made each other laugh so easily, and I see some lovely stitch ‘n’ bitch sessions in the future. We’re all of an age and temperment, and we all have less of a female network than we’d like these days.
During Devi Bhava, Dave got a mantra. He really seemed stoked about it, and had even purchased a mala by the last time I saw him. He was there with Steve & Misty, who always come to see Mother in Mt. Pleasant. I saw Chris the computer guy and met his brother. I saw several other old school, random people there as well, including Rodney (who has simply got to be older than he looks, and he looks fantastic), John Huff, Chuckie, and others.
I got to spend half an hour on stage next to Mother, doing a lap seva. That, next to my first darshan, was the highlight of the whole two days of Her visit. It’s amazing to watch Her. She never tires, She never misses anything. She’s so incredibly amazing.
All in all, seeing Amma was renewing and wonderful, and my connections with people were deepened as always, and I’m abjectly grateful that God bothered to incarnate in such a form during my lifetime.
Friday night I went to Kevin & Aimee’s for dinner to meet with Barbara about a recording gig in September. We discussed dates, and if all goes well Aimee and I will go to NYC around the middle of September to record a few songs of Barbara’s acapella music. I was given CDs with old recordings we’d done in the early 90’s (when Barbara was still Ilana Iguana and was living here), and I was given strict instructions to learn my own scat solo on Sweet True Love note for note because apparently it’s considered to be perfect. *grin* The project will probably feature one or both of the Roach Sisters, Patti Smythe, and a few other friends of Barbara’s, along with people I haven’t seen in over a decade like Tane. Over dinner, Barbara told us that she’d been contacted by someone who was writing a book about Jimi Hendrix but that she “probably won’t be interviewed, because I never actually slept with him.” Snort!
Having never been to NYC, I’m competely stoked about the prospect. How fun! To go for five days and record a few songs! Derby (Steven) also wants me to record a track he emailed me called Womanhood for some project he’s working on; the client likes the track but wants a woman’s vocal on it. So now I’ve got all this stuff on my iPod to learn or re-learn. Whee!
It’s so weird how things come and go. I didn’t sing for a really long time, and now it keeps popping up and I’m actually interested in it again. I used to hate recording, but now I’m all about it. People I haven’t connected with in years are inviting me in on projects and inviting me to New York to sing. How cool is that?
——–
I love my new cell phone. It’s sleek and small and cute. It has a color screen. It’s new.
But the picture messaging leaves a hella lot to be desired. Allow me to bitch:
1. Why install a flash that sucks so bad? Why not just NOT install it?
2. Why can’t I send pictures to email addresses?
3. Why does US Cellular’s online image center look so cute and suck so much?
One has to send an image to ‘4444,’ so that it can be added to the online image center, and THEN send it to an email address.
When the image finally arrives, it’s half the resolution it was when the phone snapped it.
WTF?
Today I’m doing laundry and packing for my three-day sojourn to Mount Pleasant, where I will work my ass off and sleep only six hours a night while I perform the duties of the Seva Desk at Amma’s programs. It will be wonderful and exhausting and I’m really excited. (If you’re coming to see Amma and need any little thing, come find me at the Seva Desk and I’ll help. It’ll say Seva Desk right on it, and it will be inside the hall.)
It’s raining. Looks like it’ll rain all day. This will make cleaning out the inside of the Jeep somewhat problematic.
Anyway, I probably won’t post again until Friday. I’m sure there’s Internet access somewhere on campus, but I’ll be too busy to ferret it out, probably.
—–
Remember that tree that fell on one of Brett’s trucks during a recent storm?
Well, now it’s bark dust. The branches, anyway. The trunk is now firewood.
Brett rented a chipper from 1-Stop yesterday, and I helped him shove enough wood through it to fill the entire back of his full-sized pickup’s bed.
That is ONE. SCARY. MACHINE. Talk about a nice way to get rid of the evidence! I mean, if you were stupid enough to get your hand caught in the thing, it would suck your entire arm though in nanoseconds, and it would be gone. Just gone. You could totally kill people and grind ’em up in that thing, no problem.
I’m not afraid of rodents nor of spiders, but that chipper scared the hell out of me. Good God.
Yet, it does make really nice bark dust.
I love shit that explodes. I really do.
I came into town tonight at around eight, stopped at Walmart to buy a print cartridge for my HP printer, grabbed some drive-thru, and went to Christina’s to do seva stuff. (Amma‘ll be in Mount Pleasant Wednesday! WEDNESDAY!) Turned out we needed her son before we could do anything since he knew which of the three laptops I was supposed to install the printer on… we ended up going to see fireworks.
I saw Emo, Barbara, and Derby there! Yay! I also saw some sweet, colorful, loud shit blowing up. I love fireworks.
Recent Comments
Friends
- Barn Lust
- Blind Prophesy
- Blogography*
- blort*
- Cabezalana
- Chaos Leaves Town*
- Cocky & Rude
- EmoSonic
- From The Storage Room
- Hunting the Horny-backed Toad
- Jazzy Chad
- Mission Blvd
- Not My Rabbit
- Puntabulous
- sathyabh.at*
- Seismic Twitch
- Stevers
- superherokaren
- The Book of Shenry
- the doctor
- The Intrepid Arkansawyer
- The Naughty Butternut
- tokio bleu
- Vicious, Unrepentant, Bitter Old Queen
- whatever*
- William
- WoolGatherer
- zigzackly




