a somewhat hibernate-y saturday
Apr. 14th, 2007 07:49 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
fflowell i did dash out to get to the library before it was locked up. but it's been a lazy, time-slighting course through this rotation of the planet.
a quick jot-down on "glad" and "grateful": the former more (and enviably) in your own skin; the latter somehow like the (said to be universally desired) not alone in your skin. god as a substitute for other people, cuz god is & does whatever we want or say he or she or it is & does. can be counted on that way, at least philosophically, unlike other people. or is that only true for some. and it is only some true, anyway.
today's "this american life" had this guy talking about realizing, all of a sudden, that the assumptions he'd made about how all his friends thought of him as an asshole were off. that they weren't kidding. got me to thinking about how the boys used to kid kid kid each other when we were teenagers & young collegians. and then all of a sudden (they so noticably weren't laughing and) i figured out that what i'd thought was just companionable kidding was actually joking around around a lot of very serious, and sometimes hard, feelings. on both their parts. though more sensitively on one of theirs.
it was a change of world view for me. brought about vicariously, laughably enough.
so.
opened a piece of mail from st. joe's that says i have to go back for a follow-up mammogram. it was accompanied by the piece of literature they put in with such requests to keep the recipient from freaking out too much. with (among other things, i'm sure; i didn't read it all) statistics on these routine follow-ups that indicate that the area of concern ---i'm pretty sure they take care not even to use "concern"--- is very probably nothing. i didn't read through cuz i didn't want to see how many (count 'em) ways they are reassuring, so's not to have to feel compelled to conclude, if there are quite a few, that they protest too much. i take my comfort largely from confidence that life isn't always as predictable as bad art, as in "The L Word," whose shotgun-over-the-fireplace breast cancer set-up episode i've seen, and so i know (Drama 101) (or, hell--- Remedial Drama) that the character in question's a goner, even though i'll have another several episodes with her, and at least one or two before she figures out what we know.
i have also already visited in my mind briefly more than once how there's no breast cancer in my family, that i know of. and i've observed mentally how big breasts and lots of caffeine work well as pigeonholes into which to stick, whenever it blows out and into my face again, the memo of inevitable "geez i sure hope not" i now have to live with for some unknown number of days henceforth.
i think maybe it is a good night to play records.
the overcast and chilly not-quite-spring outdoors, with dampness hanging in the air, fits. a fire in a fireplace would be nice, too. especially if there were someone to curl up with, and with whom i'd like to curl up, feeling like sitting in that trite scene with me, wordless, staring peacefully into the dancing flames.
a quick jot-down on "glad" and "grateful": the former more (and enviably) in your own skin; the latter somehow like the (said to be universally desired) not alone in your skin. god as a substitute for other people, cuz god is & does whatever we want or say he or she or it is & does. can be counted on that way, at least philosophically, unlike other people. or is that only true for some. and it is only some true, anyway.
today's "this american life" had this guy talking about realizing, all of a sudden, that the assumptions he'd made about how all his friends thought of him as an asshole were off. that they weren't kidding. got me to thinking about how the boys used to kid kid kid each other when we were teenagers & young collegians. and then all of a sudden (they so noticably weren't laughing and) i figured out that what i'd thought was just companionable kidding was actually joking around around a lot of very serious, and sometimes hard, feelings. on both their parts. though more sensitively on one of theirs.
it was a change of world view for me. brought about vicariously, laughably enough.
so.
opened a piece of mail from st. joe's that says i have to go back for a follow-up mammogram. it was accompanied by the piece of literature they put in with such requests to keep the recipient from freaking out too much. with (among other things, i'm sure; i didn't read it all) statistics on these routine follow-ups that indicate that the area of concern ---i'm pretty sure they take care not even to use "concern"--- is very probably nothing. i didn't read through cuz i didn't want to see how many (count 'em) ways they are reassuring, so's not to have to feel compelled to conclude, if there are quite a few, that they protest too much. i take my comfort largely from confidence that life isn't always as predictable as bad art, as in "The L Word," whose shotgun-over-the-fireplace breast cancer set-up episode i've seen, and so i know (Drama 101) (or, hell--- Remedial Drama) that the character in question's a goner, even though i'll have another several episodes with her, and at least one or two before she figures out what we know.
i have also already visited in my mind briefly more than once how there's no breast cancer in my family, that i know of. and i've observed mentally how big breasts and lots of caffeine work well as pigeonholes into which to stick, whenever it blows out and into my face again, the memo of inevitable "geez i sure hope not" i now have to live with for some unknown number of days henceforth.
i think maybe it is a good night to play records.
the overcast and chilly not-quite-spring outdoors, with dampness hanging in the air, fits. a fire in a fireplace would be nice, too. especially if there were someone to curl up with, and with whom i'd like to curl up, feeling like sitting in that trite scene with me, wordless, staring peacefully into the dancing flames.
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no subject
Date: Apr. 15th, 2007 01:18 am (UTC)and of course it may be possible and it may not be possible but, regardless, if you decide it's impossible---and as long as you maintain it's impossible---it ain't gonna happen.
whatever it is.
but of course i out with rosey shit like that, cuz i'm all rosey floaty sublime at this very moment, for right here with me i've got ella, singing bluesy songs in her so very not bluesy way, and i love it love it love it love it. 'zaz if she don't get around much anymore and so what? isn't this the most amazingly heart-liftingly fun thing, the way we're not getting around much anymore, with this beat, and these vibrations of these vocal chords, and this gentle sway, and this easy syncopation, and ---fuck me it's the bee's knees, peter alway, chet & humph, not to mention (just now) ben webster handing it over to the guy with, of all things, the violin . . .
along with everything else, so often you can just feel with no doubt about it, none of that stuff even in your world, how those players absolutely loved her, and her them back. you even feel it in real time. like you're right there with 'em, in the room; on the stage; in the nth-dimensional space all the sounds they're making bounce your very soul around in.
tonight it's made me don my fedora to dress up my sweatshirt even though i'm just hangin' about the house
no subject
Date: Apr. 15th, 2007 05:26 am (UTC)no subject
Date: Apr. 15th, 2007 02:10 pm (UTC)mary poppins, though, has kind of a dominatrix sweet, don't you think? ;)
no subject
Date: Apr. 15th, 2007 03:53 pm (UTC)(OK, I'm predicting that you are litty enough to claim that it actually did)
(I've been noticing that "drama" has been changing meaning. Literally it means prosthetic human experience, and people keep using it to mean actual human experience. I'm assuming you are using "drama" in the hip, new way.)
Naw, the only drama here is the very literal drama that a good performer invokes in the music, constructed of notes and words and the subtleties of voice of human and instrument.