The Unexpected Me

Early morning acidic sarcasm.
Late afternoon childish diplomacy.
Sentimental tears post-midnight.

Three Blink CDs in storage,
Invitation to business mixer by email.
Mala beads on the bedside table.

Discarded pariah,
Aching surveyor,
Emerging caretaker.

Documented,
Considered,
but still,
Where’d you come from?

Bluebird, what do you feed on?

by Carl Sandburg

Bluebird, what do you feed on?
It is true you gobble up worms, you
swallow bugs,
And your bill picks up corn, seed,
berries.
This is only part of the answer.
Your feathers have captured a piece of
smooth sky.
Your wings are burnished with
lake-morning blue.
It is not a worm blue nor a bug
blue nor the blue
Of corn or berry you shine with.
Bluebird, we come to you for facts,
for valuable
Information, for secret reports.
Bluebird, tell us, what do you
feed on?

Please Keep This Between Us

dark inklings
itching round
the corner of the eye
near the bridge
of the nose
exhaled outward
hmmmmmm
characters carousing
with very little wordplay
and I kinda figured
but didn't really
need to know

How to Care For a Blue-Footed Booby

First, know your limits. Is your pocketbook generous, your heart strong, your patience spectacular, and your knowledge of caviar replete? And how do you do with sharp beaks?

Accustomed to the clime of sandy coastal regions, the blue-footed booby flock to seaside resorts, summer regattas, and floating casinos. They respond well to praise, air kisses, and champagne toasts.

The blue-footed booby once had dreams of performing in the Russian ballet, web toes tripping lightly across the boards to such acclaim that swans would never be allowed near the lake again. Now they settle for summer stock and television hosting, with the occasional color commentary gig. You must support these endeavors with love, kindness, and multiple head-shots if you wish to keep your booby pleasantly inclined.

Traditionally of the B’Nai faith, younger blue-foots have become increasingly drawn toward Shamic Islam. This is merely for you own understanding of your booby; under no circumstances should you question a booby’s faith as they are apt to become stubborn and contrary.

When your booby throws its inevitable tantrums, let it sigh loudly and collapse against at least four pieces of furniture before trying to fetch your booby around with soft cooing noises and spa certificates.

The traditional attendant of sommeliers, blue-footed boobies make excellent companions to vineyard owners, bottlers, cork farmers, or anyone who enjoys drinking large quantities of wine. Should you form a rapport with your blue-foot you can expect years of witty conversations over crudités and soft embraces at sunset.

Popular names for blue-footed boobys include decapitated royalty, disgraced Olympians, and rock star widows.

Enjoy your new-found friend!

The Only Car I Drive

"UB Jesus" from David Byrne's Look Into the Eyeball

In celebration of those of you who do that Lent thing and those of us in our 40 days post White Tantric meditations.

Why, yes...

You Belong in Dublin

Friendly and down to earth, you want to enjoy Europe without snobbery or pretensions. You're the perfect person to go wild on a pub crawl... or enjoy a quiet bike ride through the old part of town.

What European City Do You Belong In?

Happy

Yesterday, in the momentary excitement of something I had previously struggled with suddenly working, I decided to keep an “Unexpected Joy” list. In my brief euphoria, I told myself that I should spend as much time appreciating the unexpected pleasures as I do bitching about the unexpected troubles. I should focus on the setfronts of life rather than the setbacks.
A minute after typing, “I entered my timesheet in the new system on the first try,” the new system crashed and I lost my timesheet. I redid it four times that morning and summarily deleted my Unexpected Joy list.
I’m so trying to have a good attitude. I can hear myself faking it in conversations, hoping I’ll make it stick internally. I can hear myself telling all my friends the right things in terms of their attitudes (a recent JSD post comes to mind), and then wishing I would listen to myself. I’m doing my best really. It’s just the stupid timesheet system didn’t work again!
This morning I saw a link “What is Happiness Anyway” and clicked. Apparently the universe thought I needed a little help in the attitude readjustment zone. You’ll see I have a new link called The Happiness Project. I recommend you check it out. It’s written by a woman with a good attitude and that’s always a good thing.