:: anne in the attic ::

Create Your Own Countdown

:: Sunday, April 23, 2006 ::

Ah, it's a beautiful morning this, the last day of my first vacation of the year. I have plans to wash the car and overhaul my bicycle as soon as I have enough coffee in me.

I lost yesterday to a mistake in judgment-- I think I accidentally doubled up on my allergy medication and it wiped me out for the entire afternoon. I swear, I was so groggy I couldn't even think clearly, and it didn't clear up until around 7pm. And I couldn't seem to get warm, either. By that time, I was feeling pangs of guilt for not attending the choir workshop at the coast. The studio sat waiting and empty all day, too. I wanted to record, but just could not. The Claritin-D stole my appetite, so I couldn't even eat to get my energy up. I ended up crashing pretty early. Consequently, I resolved not to take any allergy stuff today. And already, I feel up a level or two [c'mon, coffee!].

So it's back to work tomorrow for two more weeks of overtime, and then another vacation the second week in May for the Spring concert. And a third a couple weeks later in June for the Song Selection retreat. There's some quality time ahead. Hope I don't waste it.

:: Anne 8:34 AM [smartass remarks] ::
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Yesterday, I went up to Corvallis and did lunch and libations with mom in the garden, which is looking great right now. Took some photos. As always, click on the images for more detail.

It inspired me enough that I went out into my own yard this morning around eleven [after a lovely breakfast of French toast and coffee on the deck] and didn't come in until almost seven this evening. There's still more to do, but it felt really good to get some major yard chores done.

:: Anne 10:58 PM [smartass remarks] ::
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Truth is all around us. But it's not necessarily together, all in one place, linear, obvious, or exclusive of other truth. It can be recognized sometimes in the smallest suggestion or happenstance. One of my favorite stories is by the Sufi author Idries Shaw, from Tales of the Mullah Nasrudin. It goes something like this:

The Mullah Nasrudin was walking along a road, his donkey laden with grapes to sell at market. As he walked, local children circled him, crying out for a cool taste or a small handful. Tired of defending his load, the Mullah thought quickly. "Look, children, run along into the city! A huge feast is being given just now by the sheik, free to all!" And the children scurried down the road toward the city. After a moment of thought, the Mullah leapt up onto the donkey's back and hurried after them, saying to himself, "Well, it just MIGHT be true after all!"

Now begins my first week of vacation for 2006. I'm hoping that, at least as a byproduct of what I hope to accomplish this week, I will come upon some recognizable truth.

:: Anne 9:37 AM [smartass remarks] ::
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It's a full moon tonight and, a la Nick Drake, it's also a "Pink Moon." "Gonna getcha," said he in the now famous song, thanks to a VW Jetta commercial a few years back.

I don't need any stinkin' moon to feel "got" these days. This evening I perused the tape we shot at the choir fundraiser, a bowl-a-thon, of all things. Seeing myself on film was nothing less than excruciating. I so do not fit in. And if it isn't evident by the way people don't interact with me, then it should be visually. Yeah, I know I'm ugly-- and believe me, it isn't easy looking like this. But maybe I should try to look more like a dyke, huh? It's always disappointing-- though not as surprising as I'd expect-- to find people to be shallower than I'd thought. Just because someone looks a certain way, perhaps a way you don't care for, does that mean that she can't be intelligent or skilled or even possess the same class of rights as others? Evidently so. It's just one more reason to slink out of society altogether. Maybe if I'm lucky, I can be beautiful in music.

:: Anne 12:32 AM [smartass remarks] ::
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The following pix are to support a post I made at SweetAddy.com about the model of Gibson guitar Elliott Smith played (in addition to his Yamaha). These are of my Gibson J-45 Sunburst (think it's a '65). Though it's CLOSE to the Hummingbird model, the pickguard is unadorned, the black plaque on the headstock has nothing printed on it, and the neck inlays are simple dots as opposed to the more ornate rhomboid designs on the Hummingbird. So I believe this is the guitar Elliott is holding, a J-45. Click on the photos for more detail.



P.S. Elliott, we miss you terribly.

:: Anne 8:19 PM [smartass remarks] ::
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