Wednesday, December 13, 2006
I brought these miniature roses in from the little tree out front on Sunday. They still look pretty good, I think.
They're in little medicine bottles I bought in a second hand place in Lone Pine. The guy I bought them from said that they were dug up around the foundation of a an old house up there.
I like having old stuff around.
...espresso, that is.
Bob's was closed for the morning, so I headed for the Starbucks next door. I don't often drink coffee, but when I do, I really enjoy it.
I adore espresso with a little sugar and a little cream. It reminds me of cafes in Europe. I like the cups, the dark flavor, the aroma.
It's good to shake up the routine a bit every now and again.
Okay, I know that schitzo has nothing to do with mulilple personalities in the new DSM, but you know what I'm saying when I use the word.
I love NPR, but listening to it as my little Echo and I wind through the mountains on the way to and from work can be a bit surreal. I have three options for NPR (KCRW at 89.9 or 88.1 and KPCC at 89.3), which would be really wonderful if any of them were available uninterrupted by static or other stations.
89.9 just fizzes in and out. 88.1 is overlapped by KKJZ, a jazz station out of Cal State Long Beach. This has caused me to miss a couple of cell phone calls as I attributed the muffled beat of my be-boppin’ ring tone to a jazz encroachment.
89.3, on the other hand, is overridden by a Christian station whose preachers seem particularly vehement about social ills. Imagine concentrating on a wonderful Terri Gross interview or an All Things Considered arts profile only to be told that you had darn well better repent right this instant.
Tuesday, December 12, 2006
The family circled the wagons at our house on Sunday.
After brunch, we went and peeked through the fences at Shambala, Tippi Hedron's lion rescue operation, which is about 5 miles from our house. Hydra and I haven't visited the place for a tour yet, but we've stopped by several times to look in. Usually, the lions and tigers are down in the bottom of the little valley. These guys were just about 15 feet from us.
The real highlight was when one of these big males started roaring. I captured some bad video but good audio. You can hear it on YouTube. [EDIT: Okay, not yet, but I'm working on it.]
We also drove up Aliso Canyon road, toward the snow. It was 41 degrees up there. Too cold for our thin SoCal blood!
My mom sent me this little notebook that I carried around when I was 14 and 15. I had regular big notebooks I was journaling in, but this was for flashes of inspiration.
It's pretty embarrassing, how seriously I took myself. It's interesting to see how into the natural world I was then, as now. Can't stop myself writing about it.
That, and love poems to my unrequieted first love. Now, I'm pretty sure he was gay, but I'm not sure whether he ever came out. I know he got married after college. I hope he's found a way to be happy, because he was a really good guy.
It was amazing, looking at this after all these years. In some instances, I could remember exactly where I was when I wrote the words. My nicest little insight came while riding the team bus with the players and cheerleaders to a basketball game. I was there as a reporter for the school paper. I had a moment of feeling isolated, looking at my reflection in the dark window, and then noticing one of the best players staring out his own window, probably feeling pretty much the same thing.
When I read him some of the lines, laughing, Hydra said I was being too hard on my younger self. I guess you have to write all the trite out of your system in order to get to the more interesting stuff.