wooohoo!
Today's going to be fun...
Work: Pick out the boxes I want movers to move up from the basement to upstairs.
Coffee: BC&T around 9:45-ish
Lunch: Papaleno's with some co-workers. Run by BC&T and try catching up with Phoebe if I don't see her earlier.
3:30: Leave for Lexington for music! Erin McKeown and Alejandro Escovedo.
9-ish: Mudpi at Madison Garden, Richmond
Friday, September 28, 2007
Thursday, September 27, 2007
archive: 27 september 2007: coffee spilt and laughter
Today has already started off with crazy events. I come into BC&T and happen upon one of the Southern Living folks who decided to write about Adam and the coffee shop. It was a good laugh. I bought a mocha and a poppyseed muffin for breakfast. Then drove on to work and as I was getting out I picked up the to-go cup incorrectly and the whole thing slipped from my hand and spilt in my car and on me. So I ran back home to change clothes (which resulted in me wearing a skirt I made from blue jeans in 2003) and then came back to work.
ahh... What else does this day have planned for me? It has to be good things or little mishaps like this morning which actually made me laugh.
I haven't worn a skirt in over a year now (back when Erynn and I stopped at an Old Regular Baptist Church for a service and music was the last time, in May or June last year).
Please be a good day!
ahh... What else does this day have planned for me? It has to be good things or little mishaps like this morning which actually made me laugh.
I haven't worn a skirt in over a year now (back when Erynn and I stopped at an Old Regular Baptist Church for a service and music was the last time, in May or June last year).
Please be a good day!
Wednesday, September 26, 2007
archive: 26 september 2007: southern connections
I was just talking with a co-worker about tradition in the South... all things that reference my Southern Studies degree and the things I learned in those seminar classes and what I noticed from my experience growing up in Mississippi. The handing down of furniture from one generation to the next; it may not be until Grandma passes away before her daughter or grandchild gets the old dresser, dining table, sideboard table, etc... But it is handed down nonetheless. The furniture has connections, soul, memories. Southerners have tended to be physically connected to certain items, like grandfather clocks and wardrobes.
In my mom's house there's a grandfather clock I want one day and I hope to have it repaired so that it works again. I love the pendulum. That clock is in my childhood memories at home. There's a table that was my grandmother's which was also her mother's... It is now in my mom's house and will likely be in either mine or my sister's house one day. I have my grandmother's sewing machine which was her grandmother's sewing machine. I still use it sometimes. There's a table for it still in my mom's house with rod-iron legs.
Why are Southerners connected to the past physically through furniture? Were Southerners concerned about handing down these items before the Civil War? Was it the war and its economic threat that made many Southerners hold on to these tables, dressers, clocks, wardrobes, sets of china and silverware, etc.? Or was it before the war? I think that is an important piece of the puzzle.
I feel an attachment to these things because of history, family, story, connection, spirit, identity. History because it grounds a family or person into the history book depiction of a devastating war on a country. Family because it connects me with the persons further up the family tree, the ones I may or may not have agreed with but their lives and stories live on. Story is just that: the knick in the wood, the stain, the paint, the broken leg or missing bolt in the furniture tells stories of how family lives affected ("left its mark on") the furniture. Connection because as independent and "me" as I want to be, I am still connected to the stories and lives of those who preceded me in my family. Spirit gives a sense of respect or maybe admiration for the individuals of the past who left their mark on that furniture and therefore, when I touch that old grandfather clock I am also in touch with the spirit of my grandmother's grandmother, etc. And identity.... Identity is all of this. Identity is knowing who you are, where you come from, who you come from and why you're a part of that story and how it affects your story now, your life now.
For instance, my grandmother told a story once of when she was in her early twenties and digging around in her grandmother's attic. She came across a trunk and opened it up to find a white robe and hood. She was surprised to see this and was shocked at this being in the family. This was at the old house in Bowling Green, KY. For a long time my grandmother had that trunk, and I think that is the one which is now on the back porch at my mom's house. The robe and hood is long gone; probably thrown away long before I was born. In contrast to that story and a perfect example of how a family line can have multiple stances on an issue, I have old family photographs (ambrotypes and tintypes) of a gentleman dressed in a Union uniform with his son. He is most likely Colonel John H. Grider of the Union Army, 52nd Kentucky infantry, I found after doing some researching of the family tree. (You can view that here. And that website I created for family is here: Collectively Speaking.
Anyway... I am rambling as usual. I like thinking about family, tradition, hand-me-downs, "artifacts" of that kind.... the how and why those things are kept and what do they mean not only as a physical item but as a sentimental item. I have a lot of things I keep sentimentally, both in paper form and in physical form. I have tiny Russian dolls for when I had a penpal from Kazakhstan. I have rocks and stones which are reminders to me of particular memories. Books and journals, obviously. Jewelry both given to me and handed-down to me. I don't have any of the furniture yet, but one day I may.
I have been wondering how this translates into Appalachian culture... Southerners from Mississippi, Alabama, Louisiana, and Georgia did that kind of furniture hand-me-down sort of thing for reasons that may or may not have existed in the Appalachian region. And if things were handed down, what kind of things? Quilts is one I am sure, but what else and to what extent?
I guess I better get on to other things now. Coordinating for these student sessions for the Summit this year... I wish I didn't have to do this because I would much rather go to the Celebration of Traditional Music and/or the Clear Creek Healing Arts Festival, both the same weekend of the Summit. *grumble grumble*
In my mom's house there's a grandfather clock I want one day and I hope to have it repaired so that it works again. I love the pendulum. That clock is in my childhood memories at home. There's a table that was my grandmother's which was also her mother's... It is now in my mom's house and will likely be in either mine or my sister's house one day. I have my grandmother's sewing machine which was her grandmother's sewing machine. I still use it sometimes. There's a table for it still in my mom's house with rod-iron legs.
Why are Southerners connected to the past physically through furniture? Were Southerners concerned about handing down these items before the Civil War? Was it the war and its economic threat that made many Southerners hold on to these tables, dressers, clocks, wardrobes, sets of china and silverware, etc.? Or was it before the war? I think that is an important piece of the puzzle.
I feel an attachment to these things because of history, family, story, connection, spirit, identity. History because it grounds a family or person into the history book depiction of a devastating war on a country. Family because it connects me with the persons further up the family tree, the ones I may or may not have agreed with but their lives and stories live on. Story is just that: the knick in the wood, the stain, the paint, the broken leg or missing bolt in the furniture tells stories of how family lives affected ("left its mark on") the furniture. Connection because as independent and "me" as I want to be, I am still connected to the stories and lives of those who preceded me in my family. Spirit gives a sense of respect or maybe admiration for the individuals of the past who left their mark on that furniture and therefore, when I touch that old grandfather clock I am also in touch with the spirit of my grandmother's grandmother, etc. And identity.... Identity is all of this. Identity is knowing who you are, where you come from, who you come from and why you're a part of that story and how it affects your story now, your life now.
For instance, my grandmother told a story once of when she was in her early twenties and digging around in her grandmother's attic. She came across a trunk and opened it up to find a white robe and hood. She was surprised to see this and was shocked at this being in the family. This was at the old house in Bowling Green, KY. For a long time my grandmother had that trunk, and I think that is the one which is now on the back porch at my mom's house. The robe and hood is long gone; probably thrown away long before I was born. In contrast to that story and a perfect example of how a family line can have multiple stances on an issue, I have old family photographs (ambrotypes and tintypes) of a gentleman dressed in a Union uniform with his son. He is most likely Colonel John H. Grider of the Union Army, 52nd Kentucky infantry, I found after doing some researching of the family tree. (You can view that here. And that website I created for family is here: Collectively Speaking.
Anyway... I am rambling as usual. I like thinking about family, tradition, hand-me-downs, "artifacts" of that kind.... the how and why those things are kept and what do they mean not only as a physical item but as a sentimental item. I have a lot of things I keep sentimentally, both in paper form and in physical form. I have tiny Russian dolls for when I had a penpal from Kazakhstan. I have rocks and stones which are reminders to me of particular memories. Books and journals, obviously. Jewelry both given to me and handed-down to me. I don't have any of the furniture yet, but one day I may.
I have been wondering how this translates into Appalachian culture... Southerners from Mississippi, Alabama, Louisiana, and Georgia did that kind of furniture hand-me-down sort of thing for reasons that may or may not have existed in the Appalachian region. And if things were handed down, what kind of things? Quilts is one I am sure, but what else and to what extent?
I guess I better get on to other things now. Coordinating for these student sessions for the Summit this year... I wish I didn't have to do this because I would much rather go to the Celebration of Traditional Music and/or the Clear Creek Healing Arts Festival, both the same weekend of the Summit. *grumble grumble*
archive: 26 september 2007: thinking and change
I am a think-master today. I just want to think about things, to sort stuff out mentally and emotionally, to work on these things that have been tugging at me.
But instead I have work work work. Why won't these people register?!?!
*pulls hair out of my head*
Oh, and... the other day I almost bought hair color. There was this deep burgundy color that almost looked purple that appealed to me. And just do-it-yourself highlights looked good too. But it has been 3 or 4 years years since I last dyed my hair and I vowed I wouldn't do it again. Its just been tempting lately though. Something physically different.
Maybe I need to go get my Virgo and Dragon tattoos and that'll suit me for a while.
A song struck me yesterday when I was driving back from Lexington.... I think that's just the way I have been feeling and thinking lately, why I have been "spilling the beans" or "letting the cat out of the bag" to those I needed to share what I was thinking about. More often than not I am attracted to good people and so letting them know that does no harm, just good, even if things don't actually play out any further than good solid friendship. In the end, that's what really counts; those friends who always welcome you for a visit or a chat. Anyway, I think the song was "Let Your Love Flow" by the Bellamy Brothers. Kinda reminds me of some friends' outlook on life and relationships in general.
There's a reason for the sunshinin' sky
And there's a reason why I'm feelin so high
Must be the season when that love light shines all around us
So let that feelin grab you deep inside
And send you reelin where your love can't hide
And then go stealin' through the moonlit nights with your lover
Just let your love flow like a mountain stream
And let your love grow with the smallest of dreams
And let your love show and you'll know what I mean
It's the season
Letyour love fly like a bird on wing
And let your love bind you to all livin things
And let your love shine and you'll know what I mean
That's the reason
There's a reason for the warm sweet nights
And there's a reason for the candlelights
Must be the season when those love lights shine all around us
So let that wonder take into space
And lay you under its loving embrace
Just feel the thunder as it warms your face
You can't hold back
Just let your love flow like a mountain stream
And let your love grow with the smallest of dreams
And let your love show and you'll know what I mean
It's the season
Let your love fly like a bird on wing
And let your love bind you to all livin' things
And let your love shine and you'll know what I mean
That's the reason
But instead I have work work work. Why won't these people register?!?!
*pulls hair out of my head*
Oh, and... the other day I almost bought hair color. There was this deep burgundy color that almost looked purple that appealed to me. And just do-it-yourself highlights looked good too. But it has been 3 or 4 years years since I last dyed my hair and I vowed I wouldn't do it again. Its just been tempting lately though. Something physically different.
Maybe I need to go get my Virgo and Dragon tattoos and that'll suit me for a while.
A song struck me yesterday when I was driving back from Lexington.... I think that's just the way I have been feeling and thinking lately, why I have been "spilling the beans" or "letting the cat out of the bag" to those I needed to share what I was thinking about. More often than not I am attracted to good people and so letting them know that does no harm, just good, even if things don't actually play out any further than good solid friendship. In the end, that's what really counts; those friends who always welcome you for a visit or a chat. Anyway, I think the song was "Let Your Love Flow" by the Bellamy Brothers. Kinda reminds me of some friends' outlook on life and relationships in general.
There's a reason for the sunshinin' sky
And there's a reason why I'm feelin so high
Must be the season when that love light shines all around us
So let that feelin grab you deep inside
And send you reelin where your love can't hide
And then go stealin' through the moonlit nights with your lover
Just let your love flow like a mountain stream
And let your love grow with the smallest of dreams
And let your love show and you'll know what I mean
It's the season
Letyour love fly like a bird on wing
And let your love bind you to all livin things
And let your love shine and you'll know what I mean
That's the reason
There's a reason for the warm sweet nights
And there's a reason for the candlelights
Must be the season when those love lights shine all around us
So let that wonder take into space
And lay you under its loving embrace
Just feel the thunder as it warms your face
You can't hold back
Just let your love flow like a mountain stream
And let your love grow with the smallest of dreams
And let your love show and you'll know what I mean
It's the season
Let your love fly like a bird on wing
And let your love bind you to all livin' things
And let your love shine and you'll know what I mean
That's the reason
Friday, September 21, 2007
archive: 21 september 2007: let the sunshine in
Back in the office today. I didn't go to work yesterday because when I woke in the morning I felt miserable and so I called in sick. I slept until 12:30 and felt a good bit better. I didn't take any more of that cold medicine. Really, sometimes I think I feel worse when I take medicine for colds and allergies and sinus congestion than I do without it! By afternoon I went to Ground Effects to check email, be a little sociable, and then after a while I went back home and read for a while.
Probably in another week or two I will finally finish this novel. It is a very slow read, but it picks up every now and then... The Well of Loneliness. After I finish reading it I will either move on to the Lee Smith Family Linen or Neil Gaiman's American Gods. I have read the Gaiman book before, but I have kinda wanted to reread it. I read it so fast the first time that I don't think it all sunk it. I love his writing. But anyway, I need to read more poetry. I think I will ask Normandi, Vicky, and Michael for some suggestions. Maybe Libby. I can't sit and read poetry like I can novels, two hours pass by with my head stuck between pages. No, a poem is read and then thought about. I cannot go from one poem immediately to the next because it doesn't sink in... It is like just brushing the surface, skipping stones.
After while I texted Phoebe to see how she was doing, and it sounded like she needed to talk so I planned to meet her outside BC&T after I stopped at PeaceCraft for a moment. Caught up with her and chatted about things, Carol and Robert chatted a bit before going to Main Street Cafe, Chuck came by for a while, Brian showed us his spray-painted car, Adam came to hang out after his slug nightmare, Kelly visited for a bit, etc, etc. Another evening of hours spent outside BC&T just hanging out. Phoebe left after a while, I gave Adam a ride to Taco Bell and home, and then I went home to read some more.
I shouldn't have had that double-shot cafe mocha at 8 pm. It did, indeed, keep me up all night long. I had the most restless sleep I have ever had, I believe. But I somehow feel refreshed this morning. Strange, eh?
By the way, sometime over the next few days I will create some kind of life outline. I know it sounds massive and unwieldy but... it is something I want to do. Sometimes I look back and I think, wow... I've done a lot of things, felt a lot, been places, etc, and other times I look back and I can't seem to see all those things... I criticize and minimize those accomplishments and experiences. So. An outline. Because just a few days ago I remembered something I had done, but now I have forgotten what I had remembered! Some of these memories will have to be jogged with those little scraps of memorabilia I keep. I have scrapbooks. Some are explained, some are random. Oh... I had forgotten about going to Dallas with the honor society when I was in community college and hearing someone speak.... I used to think it was Dr. Laura Schlessinger, but what I remember her talking about goes against what Dr. Laura talks about now, so it was probably not the same speaker. But anyway... memory is tricky.
I have a crazy amount of work to do. Later folks.
Probably in another week or two I will finally finish this novel. It is a very slow read, but it picks up every now and then... The Well of Loneliness. After I finish reading it I will either move on to the Lee Smith Family Linen or Neil Gaiman's American Gods. I have read the Gaiman book before, but I have kinda wanted to reread it. I read it so fast the first time that I don't think it all sunk it. I love his writing. But anyway, I need to read more poetry. I think I will ask Normandi, Vicky, and Michael for some suggestions. Maybe Libby. I can't sit and read poetry like I can novels, two hours pass by with my head stuck between pages. No, a poem is read and then thought about. I cannot go from one poem immediately to the next because it doesn't sink in... It is like just brushing the surface, skipping stones.
After while I texted Phoebe to see how she was doing, and it sounded like she needed to talk so I planned to meet her outside BC&T after I stopped at PeaceCraft for a moment. Caught up with her and chatted about things, Carol and Robert chatted a bit before going to Main Street Cafe, Chuck came by for a while, Brian showed us his spray-painted car, Adam came to hang out after his slug nightmare, Kelly visited for a bit, etc, etc. Another evening of hours spent outside BC&T just hanging out. Phoebe left after a while, I gave Adam a ride to Taco Bell and home, and then I went home to read some more.
I shouldn't have had that double-shot cafe mocha at 8 pm. It did, indeed, keep me up all night long. I had the most restless sleep I have ever had, I believe. But I somehow feel refreshed this morning. Strange, eh?
By the way, sometime over the next few days I will create some kind of life outline. I know it sounds massive and unwieldy but... it is something I want to do. Sometimes I look back and I think, wow... I've done a lot of things, felt a lot, been places, etc, and other times I look back and I can't seem to see all those things... I criticize and minimize those accomplishments and experiences. So. An outline. Because just a few days ago I remembered something I had done, but now I have forgotten what I had remembered! Some of these memories will have to be jogged with those little scraps of memorabilia I keep. I have scrapbooks. Some are explained, some are random. Oh... I had forgotten about going to Dallas with the honor society when I was in community college and hearing someone speak.... I used to think it was Dr. Laura Schlessinger, but what I remember her talking about goes against what Dr. Laura talks about now, so it was probably not the same speaker. But anyway... memory is tricky.
I have a crazy amount of work to do. Later folks.
Monday, September 17, 2007
archive: 17 september 2007: annoyance
I am annoyed. Easily annoyed right now. I have this impulse to just want to bitch and complain. I set up an appointment at the Berea Health Services assuming that a visit there by an ACA staff member would be covered by my insurance, etc, because of the close ties of ACA and Berea College. I was wrong.
I am annoyed because several things in the past couple of days have made me feel dumb. Guess I am just feeling extra sensitive to any blows against my intellect. The IQ thing sent me spinning. The drive-thru the other day got under my skin. The swamps in Mississippi thing put me on edge. And then this appointment which doesn't count (which also was wasted time I could have been at work) didn't provide anything because ACA staff can't go there for check-ups, etc. That felt like the last straw.
And apparently my insurance plan will only cover this exam once a year. According to the doctor it is considered a yearly exam, but... what if a woman intuitively feels like it needs to be checked again a few months after her last one? This doesn't sound right nor does it promote being health conscious.
*grumble grumble*
I am annoyed because several things in the past couple of days have made me feel dumb. Guess I am just feeling extra sensitive to any blows against my intellect. The IQ thing sent me spinning. The drive-thru the other day got under my skin. The swamps in Mississippi thing put me on edge. And then this appointment which doesn't count (which also was wasted time I could have been at work) didn't provide anything because ACA staff can't go there for check-ups, etc. That felt like the last straw.
And apparently my insurance plan will only cover this exam once a year. According to the doctor it is considered a yearly exam, but... what if a woman intuitively feels like it needs to be checked again a few months after her last one? This doesn't sound right nor does it promote being health conscious.
*grumble grumble*
archive: 17 september 2007: exhaustion
I just want to go home, crawl into my bed, and sleep the rest of today. I am mentally, emotionally, and physically exhausted. I think I am coming down with a mean cold.
I have reading to do for an assignment for my class and notes to make on it, type, and send to the professor before 10am tomorrow.
I think I would rather sit up and watch Frida again. But I can't.
I also have this impulse to cry. No reason, no cause. Just impulse. Maybe its the exhaustion and the amount of stuff I have to do.
I have reading to do for an assignment for my class and notes to make on it, type, and send to the professor before 10am tomorrow.
I think I would rather sit up and watch Frida again. But I can't.
I also have this impulse to cry. No reason, no cause. Just impulse. Maybe its the exhaustion and the amount of stuff I have to do.
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