Tag Archives: tears

“Thank God For Jack White!” And Food.

That’s what I’m talkin’ ‘bout! Deeetails. Firsts. Was over at Bean’s and itchin’ to show her this clip with a desperate request for the album come Christmas (insert guffaw of absurdity) cuz I didn’t jump on it quickly enough. She goes into her library down the hall for a bit, and returns with news that she’s tried buying us each an album (how quickly the lust spreads), but they weren’t available at the moment. She’s managed to buy us tickets to see him in August though. Sprightly tears! Caught a longish interview betwixt him and Conan (O’ Brien), and teared up multiple times as Jack described certain thoughts in the creative process in the most relatable of ways. ♦

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Petty Indulgences

Petty: Of small importance; trivial
Indulgence: The act or an instance of indulging; gratification

A brief collection of items that, though, in and of themselves may appear inconsequential, combine in such a way as to fill my heart with delight and joy for each new moment.

Ready to begin piping the dough out into the wok.

Churros! All things churros, please. The cinnamon, the doughy center and slightly crunchy outer ridges. Most especially the super duper large ones available at the Costco snack bar. Better yet, making my own! Bean bought me a box of churro mix with my current obsession in mind. Having never deep-fried (nor desired to) a thing, I tentatively filled the wok with the suggested amount of cooking oil and set the temperature dial to just below high. Soon, the oil was popping and hissing and generally having a rolling good time. The box came with a sturdy pastry bag that I’d filled with the prepared mix. Ready to begin piping the dough out into the wok. They looked like happy little rows of yellow 2 pencils, minus the lead filling and pink nub eraser. In they went, out they came moments later, right into a pile of cinnamon sugar for a coating or two before being stacked like Lincoln Logs onto a massive platter. (Nevermind the mixed comparisons relating my cooking to that of wood, mmm, tasty, in both cases.) They were fantabulous! If you were here, I’d make you one. Or three!

The comfort found in the noises of daily living from those around me to the left, the right, below -each in their own little homey compartments- their daily sounds of thumping and bumps and opening and closing of doors, the muffled laughter and the “hi”s and “good-bye”s of visitors calling out their “see you soon”s and “miss you already”s. I feel a part of a whole without even knowing them, and it feels good.

Dolores O’Riordan, from The Cranberries! Bean called to tease me a bit, casually mentioning that there was a CD out that she just knew I’d be nuts over acquiring, and that surely I had yet to hear of it because she hadn’t received an urgent call on my part. She asked if “Ordinary Day” meant anything to me. How about “Are You Listening?” Later, she presented me with the new album, O’Riordan’s solo work. Yay! I liken her voice to riding a wave, a current that has strength and power in delivery tempered with a vulnerability in just the right moments to make her songs more poignant and resonating.

Flipping the calendar to a new month and liking the new month’s image better than the prior month’s image.

Attended the theatre a few weeks back for my dad’s birthday, and as always, I sat in awe of the masses of people filling every available seat. Time and again, the actors pour out their best, breathing life into words and actions in the telling of a story, and they’re met with the audience eager to give their appreciation resulting in the rising from seats and thunderous continued applause. It never fails to move me to tears.

Le parkour, coolest sport EVER! If you’ve seen the latest Bond flick, Casino Royale, then you’ve had a taste of it. All that incredible leaping, jumping, springing, bouncing, tumbling, rolling, landing-on-your-feet, never stop efficiency. What must takes masses of training appears so effortless. I wonder what beginning lessons entail …

They reminded me very much of two old cantankerous men standing about sharing their view of the world

We have birds. Or rather, the neighborhood has birds. These aren’t your average, everyday, run-of-the-mill birds either. We knew something was up last year when Bean’s Matt was out on the balcony for a smoke and he asked if I had a pair of binoculars. A duck, a white-feathered, yellow-beaked duck was waddling its way down the middle of the road. As an oncoming car approached, the duck made its way to the side only to return to the center once the vehicle passed by. It reached a thick grassy stretch, an area nestled between our apartments and the neighborhood of houses down the way and abruptly turned and waddled into the brush and out of sight. A trip by the area later revealed a small hidden pond containing nothing less than a small fleet of feathered fowl. All kinds! Soon after, we began to hear random cock-a-doodle-dooing. If you’re up early enough, say 6:30am-ish, you will find a rooster making its way up and down the sidewalks pausing to stand at the street corners as though he knows that’s what one does when crossing. Several weeks back, he stood in the company of a duck, this time a Mallard. They reminded me very much of two old cantankerous men standing about sharing their view of the world amongst themselves with duck cluckings and rooster crowings. For months that rooster has been one very confused fellow! He’s neglected to adhere to his assigned job description of providing a timely warning to wake come dawn. Instead he is to be heard clearly and LOUDLY from the hours of 3:30am on into late afternoon at regular intervals. Frankly, I’m amazed that no one has made a meal out of him, as he must be even louder to those who live nearer the pond.

The unshakable feeling that someone is thinking of you at the very moment you’re thinking of them.

A Tim Burton bug. Content to remain in shadow under the porch step of my dad’s home. For several years now, come summer this bug, or its offspring maybe, appears. It’s the most amazing in-person beetle-esque bug I’ve ever seen! The size of a Ritz cracker (BIG!), its shell is covered in thin, stark lines distinctly black and white reminding me very much of the lines often found in Burton’s work. The critter’s antennas and legs are deep red. A metallic red as found on a Japanese beetle. I had no idea such an exotic thing was to be found here in Washington, residential Washington. I’m quite fascinated by it! And now frightened, too. I must have knelt a bit close last year because the next thing I knew it clicked, it hissed (word of the day. SEE: churros) and spread its shell to reveal wings, as it all-at-once fluttered up at me. Huge freak out on my part as I ran indoors in my own flutter of sorts. I guess the little thing told me!

And with that, may you recognize and delight in your very own set of petty indulgences. And, may you share them! ♦

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Thought Leftovers With A Side of Emptied Brain, Please.

Gotta empty the mind before sleep will come …

I can forgive you, the forget part still needs work.
Lobster is overrated.
Never been to a therapist.
I despise the pirating of music.
I’ve never broken a bone. Knock on wood!
I’ve been stalked before. Mildly.
I own a pair of blue seude shoes.
I have a crush on the supermarket checkout guy based entirely on how he looks.
I sucked my thumb until I was 15-years-old. Then I got braces.
I played with Barbies. I still do sometimes.
A slice of mild cheddar, a Kosher dill pickle and a piece of white bread with crunchy peanut butter, never smooth, is a fantastic snack! Yep, yep.
I can tie a cherry stem in a knot with my tongue. Twice. I must be a good kisser … ;)
I own an acoustic guitar. My sister owns an electric. We still can’t play much yet.
I’m six feet tall sometimes with the right heels.
I used to be proud of the fact that I could verbally shred a person down to a withered pool of tears. Now, it’s enough to know that I could still do it, but choose not to.
This year, I’d like to be someone’s wonderwall.
I’m picky when it comes to marinara sauce.
“Craptastic!”is a really fun hybrid.
My dad is one of my very best friends.
It’s better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all. And if you don’t believe that, then you weren’t loved right.
At one point, I didn’t own a single item of clothing that didn’t have paint spattered on it somewhere.
Someday, I’ll meet my last first kiss.
I hate when a person makes a joke at the expense of another.
Pulling on a pair of new socks makes everything better!
So does a new Sharpie pen.
I’m an aspiring souffle maker.
I own a phonograph from the 1930’s along with a hefty collection of big band records and 45s.
The words “scrumptious” and “brand-spankin'” delight me.
I don’t eat chicken off the bone too often. It still resembles the bird too much! Ew.
I appreciate satire.
I saw four bald eagles flying about at close range today while dining near the waterfront. Gorgeous!
And, two sea lions. But, they weren’t flying.
Wonder why they don’t make the entire plane out of the material that they make the indestructable black box out of …
I live in a constant state of expectancy … right now the expectancy of a great night’s sleep.
Goodnight. ♦

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