December 30, 2007

Meesa back!

A brief game of tag to flex the turtle muscles. I'll save the meaningful end-of-year discourse for later.

1. What is your favorite flower?
The iris.
(I put the plural in here and it seemed strange. Irises? Does that seem right to you? Shouldn’t it be irisi or something?)

2. What word in the English language do you wish you had invented?
Irisi. Just kidding. Give me a second. Verisimilitude. That’s a good one.

3. What do you miss about your childhood?
Shoes that have cartoon characters on them available in my size.

4. What is the main fault in your character?
I hold grudges. I try not to but they do climb in.

5. Describe how you kiss in one word.
Askew.

6. What in the world do you least desire?
Debt. The monetary kind. The other types aren't so bad.

7. Finish this sentence. "Happiness is a thing called..."
Monkey pants!

December 19, 2007

Christmas 5x5

5 Favorite Christmas Movies:
1. Her Majesty’s Secret Service
It’s Christmas Eve and James is on the run from Blofeld and his skiing henchman. He huddles near the ice rink sure the end is near. With a wonderful whoosh, a mini-skirted angel glides to a stop in front of him. He looks up into the glowing face of one Miss Diana Rigg framed in the glowing lights of an Andes Christmas.
“Tracy!”
She saves his ass, he proposes that night, because - well, wouldn’t you?
2. The Thin Man
Nick: “Did I buy you that fur coat?”
Nora: “Yes you did.”
Nick: “I spoil you.”
3. Love Actually
I stole this one off of Murat’s list, but you’ll never see a more lovable Liam Nissan.
4. Die Hard
This one is a quick shout-out to my Dad. Nothing says Christmas like blowing away Euro-trash terrorist thieves.
5. The Bishop’s Wife
This one is a quick shout-out to my Mom. I love Cary Grant’s sly take on angelic behavior, most especially the gift of wine that never runs dry.

5 Favorite Christmas Songs:
1. Ave Maria
Song properly by a trained opera singer. Otherwise it’s just wrong.
2. White Christmas
The Drifters version, Bing’s take always makes me sleepy.
3. Santa Baby
The Eartha Kitt version is the only one. How I wish I could purr “the deed to a platinum mine…” like that.
4. I Saw Three Ships
I grew up with Nat King Cole’s version, but I’ve recently come to love Sting’s.
5. The Little Drummer Boy
Don’t know why, but I’ve always loved this one.

5 Christmas Memories
1. Lighting luminarios
The softly glowing light in everyone’s yards leading down the road to St. Mathew’s with Mt. Christo Rey behind.
2. Frosting sugar cookies
Once my brother hit college, the cookies took on a decidedly post-modern feel.
3. Rearranging the Nativity
My mom has a gorgeous, extensive one that is displayed every year. She and I disagree on the best placement of the wise men/holy family/guiding angel/shepherd/etc. Pretty much everything except the baby. Consequently, the attendees to the Christ child move around quite a bit during the holiday season.
4. Shooting with my Dad
You have your traditions, we have ours. Nothing like plinking cans to bring a family together.
5. The stacking of Christmas presents
For quite a few years, my brother and I would awake on Christmas morning to discover the elves had stacked the presents like cairns.

5 Favorite Christmas Cookies
1. Pecan Tasties
2. Sugar cookies swathed in sugar frosting
3. Chocolate peanut brittle
4. Peanut brittle
5. Fudge

5 Favorite Christmas Specials
1. 007 Days of Christmas
So I like James Bond. A lot.
2. Charlie Brown’s Christmas
To this day I feel the need to rescue scraggly pine trees from the lot and decorate them.
3. Food Network Christmas
This one is new this year. I’ve become enamored of the Food Network and there is just something delightful about Rachel Ray telling Bobby Flay to stop trying to add the prosciutto so soon.
4. Rudolph
In days of yore I couldn’t get enough of that claymation.
5. Muppets’ Christmas Carol
It’s always better with Muppets.

December 17, 2007

Quote of the Day

Be regular and orderly in your life so that you may be violent and original in your work. — Gustave Flaubert

December 14, 2007

Bones Remembered

(Murat’s clouds reminded me of this poem I’ve been fiddling with for a while. The first line may seem familiar. I’m still not convinced it’s complete, but this is the latest iteration.)



Under the bones of the sky
she splinters into inadequate words.

Her sun-baked terracotta heart
only beats when its broken,
only bleeds when it rains,
only skips when she doesn’t
hold it tightly in her hands.

She draws dots and calls them stars,
she draws zigzags and calls them tears,
she draws swirls and calls them life.
The dust changes the color
of the quickly drying paint.

The wind smoothes her edges
and the bones drift away.

December 7, 2007

Ode to a Headache in E

Mental sediment
collects at the top of my neck,
microscopic elephant graveyard
for the detritus of the day.
Accrual pain it is.