WoW: Write the Music

So I stumbled across Write on Wednesdays. I’m gonna make an attempt to sharpen my skills and get some writing done. We’ll see how it goes…

Write On Wednesdays Exercise 5: Write the Music – A bit of choice this week: Pick your favorite song and write down the first line of lyrics OR turn on the radio and write down the first line of lyrics you hear. Then set your timer for 5 minutes and write the first words that come into your head after your writing prompt.  Stop when the buzzer rings! Do this exercise over and over if you wish. 

“Mark out anything that takes no time….”

I was reading one of those psycho-babble, analyze yourself and then you can fix your own bullshit books. I sort of think of those like chose your own adventure, but I’m not sure that they ever really help myself. Today, however, I think that one of the things I read may have merit. (please do not fall off your chair, I will deny all liability) The passage had to do with whether we seek instant gratification, delay gratification or have a healthy self-discipline when it comes to what satiates our own needs. All this is illustrated by how we eat cake – frosting first, frosting last or with the cake simultaneously. When I first read it I decided I was a self denier but enabler of others (I don’t usually eat the frosting at all, but give it to the person who likes it. This usually corresponds with a person of girth, thus the “enabling”.) This may be partially true, but really, I think I have been living with my speed lever switched to 45rpm, even though I should be running on 33rpm. Its like this intense desire pushes me to make sure everything is done as quickly as possible so that everyone is taken care of. (Did you hear the ah-ha and see the light-bulb?) I do not delay or deny, I bypass completely!! There are things that take time that I’ve not completed for myself. I’m too busy. Until I sat and really thought about it, I didn’t give weight to the idea that the reason may very well have nothing to do with my own gratification at all… but more that I don’t like cake! Okay maybe I need to finish the book and get a better picture or listen to the rest of the song…

Denali: Relief

Write On Wednesdays

Love and Solidarity

Six, or so, months ago my brother said to me… I’m gonna run a 1/2 marathon to benefit the leukemia/lymphoma society. Under most circumstances with many people (especially in his particular place in life -ie haven’t run since high school) I may have done a double take and said something to the affect of “are-you-fucking-serious??? uuuummmm… you do realize that involves running right?? you know… that exercise thing where you pound yourself against the pavement at multiple times the force of gravity until your joints scream at you that they are vacating the premises and you are an asshole…. that running right???”

But because it was my brother, and because he is the man he is, with his own particular view on the the world and the way things should be handled to get past hurdles, I looked at him, and while I admit I thought those things, said… that’s pretty rad, do you want to go to the gym with me to ease yourself into a routine until your body is used to exercising again?  At first he was reluctant and I was a bit pushy. But a couple miles and some serious ankle and knee pain convinced him I may have know just a little bit. I will be the first person to tell you I struggle with the exercise gremlins, but I go. Not because I want to be in shape but because I need to go… my sanity depends on it. And I think my brother has discovered the same. It helps. But none of this matters right now, the point is, he is going, and working and fighting the pain (which he discovered was a reality, right away – think searing burning swelling ankle and knee pain) for something he committed to. My bro is a fukin rock star. He has been my hero for a long time for many reasons.  I think I’ve said before that we have come full circle and went from not just disliking each other but flat out hostility, to being close enough to be real. That is rare in this world of twitter-tweeting, social networked bullshit where actual conversations cause people to become physically ill.  But we can. It is not always easy, in fact when you have to be real and throw down that conversation that you know is going to hurt but no one else can say it, you do and it sucks, but you do.

So on Sunday my brother will fight through the pain. He will think about a child and our Pepere and Brother in law. He will gather all the strength he has push through the physical pain and overcome a physical challenge to match some of the many mental challenges he’s overcome in his life. I can’t be there in person, he wouldn’t see me if I was. But when he hits the starting-line at 6am with 40,000 other runners, I will be thinking about him. And even though the day before will have been my birthday and who knows what state my body will be in, I will be awake, sending all the positive healing energy I have to him. I will be thinking about what he’s accomplished and how far he’s come, not just with running but in his life. I will be thinking about how much he does for me and how much he means to me and how incomplete my life would be without him.

 … less than three
Rock & Roll Marathon, San Diego, June 5th

bithday bs!!!

Dear Weather Control Peeps!
I will fire your asses if you do not change the forecast right now….. I expect sun and poolside cocktails for my birthday. If you want to rain, do it now, don’t wait until Saturday. I do not have a plan b. It is MY day, I should not have to. If you do not comply, you will not only feel my regular wrath but my i-am-getting-older-and-thus-frustrated & crotchety-and-don’t-need-a-good-reason violent side as well.

Thank you very kindly in advance for your prompt attention to this matter as I would like to be very mellow and most importantly war on my birthday.

 <3 sars


Being in the middle is hard sometimes. You aren’t the good one and you aren’t the bad one just the one who usually fucks up, even if you didn’t. Sometimes you aren’t the middle one at all you just ended up there by default because the oldest and youngest got flipped around by an error in the programmer’s code, but no one notices because they can’t read html. Regardless of how you got there, its the middle and you are no longer the apple of daddy’s eye or mommy’s best girl. You just are. Whatever fuck up comes along that you get yourself into, fall into or happen to be passing by as it hits the fan and lands on you may go un-noticed by everyone but you.None the less, there it is, noticed. Being in the middle is hard sometimes. It means that you have to hold up both ends of the weight and burn both ends of the candle to figure out which way you are supposed to face.

Then sometimes, it means dropping both sticks and blowing out the candles ends in favor of walking forward in the dark, listening to the sound of your breath, remembering that you don’t have to be stuck in the middle you just have to be you. Sometimes you can just close your eyes and sway gently to the dreamers song that is your memory of you, who you are and see that light that still exists where you thought it was dark. Being in the middle is hard sometimes because you forget that it isn’t a role… its a place. its a place you can leave if you choose and become the top and bottom… just yourself.

a day

the rocks in my mind
from the glass
of time spent
down roads I can’t pass
smiles fade and flicker
across batteries
long drained
kids walk by
no desire
to see
cans on a street
no ribbons
no flags
then a warm breeze
picks up
reflections of time
kids kickin cans
down roads
of ribbons and flags
I smile
they pass
the rocks in my glass
sit cold
in the bottom of my glass
yougotsars via the crackberry

what tube?

I guess I tube.. or youtube.

I got asked to read something I wrote  for those of you that have been reading a long time, now you will know, I am that crazy in real life. It is not just for show in print, er digi-print. If you’ve been reading long enough you will have read these for yourself and will now get my little voice stuck in your head as you read from now on…. HA!!! I plague you. :)

So here is the link if you wish to watch my theatrical (sorta)/reading/sharing in public debut, though don’t kid yourself, it was not my first time on stage. Though I have learned concretely, I don’t like being in front. I prefer the side, preferably by the bar or behind the guitar player. Yeah…. or at the bar behind the guitar player with the drummer. Perfect!!!

Observations of a Musical Inclination

Thanks No Shame Theatre.

read her "blarg"

…because she calls it a blarg and draws shit and is just plain awesome (not to mention makes me laugh!) and will now be added to the “Cool Peeps and Places”. Maybe not as prestigious as being added to say the Silly Lists of Nothingness or the List of Silly Pointless Lists on Wikipedia, but I know some peeps who think its rad… and not just me. Anyhow…… Do eet!! You will laugh until you pee, okay maybe not.

Today’s blarg: Nacho Dress from I’d Like Cheese on My Entire Family

its awesome.

sometimes it takes a while

I know I have been radio silent… to a degree I’m sorry, but kinda not. I did promise “something nicer next time” and maybe I set myself up for trouble by doing that. I’ve been working on writing new stuff, but have been having a rough go finding words. I will have something to post soon, but have a feeling it won’t be what is expected. I seem to be spending too much time trying to provide something witty or with some underlying nugget of wisdom – trying to fit some mold of what I think others want. I didn’t start out writing for anyone but me. Writing was a catharsis, a means to release my feelings. And unbeknown to me when I started, was an extremely useful therapeutic tool.  I miss the freedom I felt when I started writing almost 8 years ago. I miss being fulfilled by even posting something so simple as:

hot tamale
mood: full
It has been a while since I’ve written anything, but what better to pull me out of my writing slump than food. The tamale lady came to my office today. The beautiful amazing tamale lady. Why is she beautiful and amazing??? She had chili-cheese tamales and she doesn’t use lard. Oh Happy Day!!!!!! I am sitting here at my desk enjoying the bounty of her labor, toasting the beauty that is the Mexican culture and it’s fine cuisine. My mouth is on fire and yet I still smile. oh yes it will be a good day.

Listening to:Roots
The Israelites /2004
That I posted in December ’06.

Or in November ’05 when All I wrote was
I need more cowbell…

It was easy to just be free. Of course I didn’t post status updates of Facebook and there was no Twitter so my writing was it. I will figure out what to do to change whatever it is that I need to, in order to find fulfillment in my writing again. Maybe I have already answered my own questions.

Until then I wanted to share a about a woman who no one really knew about. She was discovered by accident after she died. Who knew what could have been different for her, maybe she would have flourished (though I doubt her work could have been better) or maybe it would have stunted her creativity. I hope she was happy and fulfilled by taking photographs in her day-today life.

Vivian Maier

I hope today you have a moment for you that leaves you fulfilled. I just did. with love & solidarity ~sars

I promise some nice stuff next time

Hey you, the one over there taking up space on the eliptical machine… Get off the fucking phone! This is the gym! Great Gus people REALLY? If your iPhone doubles as your iPod then so be it… but don’t answer the fucking thing while you are working out. How can you actually workout while gabbing away about what the kids had for lunch and what time they have to be at soccer practice. Can’t it wait for you to work out for 30 minutes and burn off some of the chub you have built up because you aren’t actually working out, you’re talking on the phone.

Now you, girl talking in text speak. Do you realize that you sound like an uneducated idiot? You are somewhere in your early 20’s (you’re in a bar, lets hope this to be true) and you can’t go three sentences without a text abbreviation for something, and you can’t go three words without saying like. WTF? STFU. Use all that money daddy just spent for good, not evil. PYHO and use some of that education to find a job somewhere. And OMG! the 80’s were the decade before you were born, not the one we’re in… send your cloths back from whence they came.

Next, little table o’ frat boys at my favorite writing spot. I don’t care if it’s Sunday Funday or Monday night Football or what-the-fuck-ever…. The servers here are awesome. Have you noticed there are only two? For the whole place (yes back room included)? So when you flag one of them down, Hey, hey, HEY!!! and then your drunk ass buddy sits there, uh, uh, uh and doesn’t know what he wants… I want to hit you, more importantly she wants to hit you (or him) because you are making it look like she sucks to all the other people waiting for their beers because your dumb ass had performance anxiety. Take notice of your surroundings man. Next time I may just call her over – hey, hey! and order a can of whoop ass for your table. She’ll probably do it too (she likes those big ass rings).

Drunk guy who happens to be sitting next to me at the pub… Thank you kindly for cutting me off and telling my awesome bartender (that I love and take good care of) that you’ve got my drink. Very sweet. The quarter you left as a tip…. NOT fucking sweet. Learn how to tip man. This is a bar, know your etiquette, tip accordingly. better yet, if you want to impress a lady… try not being a tard.

I will let this be all for now. because I could go on and on and on….. I have nice stuff, fun stuff, rainbows and kittens and heartwarming shit that makes me almost throw p in my mouth. But this had to come out first. sorry?

(in the vain of the old myspace blogs) Currently Listening to: Andrew Jackson Jihad;
Candy, Cigarettes & Cap Guns

From Blogger Pictures

like the corner of my mind

Today while catching up on all the blogs I’m behind on, I popped over to Mr. Condescending’s blog where I am usually bombarded with sarcasm, mean wit and or course condescension. I did not get this today. I got an interesting tale of love and the loss of his estranged grandmother. I have been pondering this all day. I usually have some sarcastic humor or some sort of post where I am ranting about whatever. To be sure I have some of those started, but not for tonight.

My own grandmother sits in Florida (okay to be fair sits is probably pushing it, lies painfully is probably a better way to say it) awaiting the direction the next butcher,I mean doctor will take her. I would not call us estranged, but we’ve not been the closest. She and I had our moments this past summer and I’m at peace with that. As I read Mr C’s blog I felt his pain. I’m good at the empathy. But a smile came because I knew that I wouldn’t struggle with that same thing. I may be distant from a few that I love, but never so far that they are beyond my reach.  I keep my friends and family close to my heart.

I was fortunate enough to be around for my Grandfather and my other Grandmother passing along. Both gave me thing I carry to this day… the ability to play blackjack, a penchant for men that work with their hands, the best pie dough ever (that was my grandfather) and southern fried chicken to die for. And both taught me the value of life and caring for others above yourself… keep your friends close to your heart. I have always had this mantra, of sorts, and over the past 18 months I have found it to ring true… When I find myself fading, I close my eyes and realize, my friends are my energy. It is those we love that sustain us, keep us up when we are so low we feel the heat from the earths core singeing our toes. Keep them close and when you fear you are losing your grip… hold tighter. They will fill you with energy, remind you of beautiful things, and when its your turn… remember