Da Goddess

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November 29, 2006

The Answer Is NOT Blowing In The Wind

Hey, Dylan! Unless the answer is "allergy and sinus irritation", all that's blowing in the wind is a bunch of leaves and dirt and mold.

The wind has been blowing something fierce today. It's dry. Drier than you can imagine. And the yesterday? Rain!

I felt the change in the weather as it was happening. My sinuses started throbbing and I couldn't seem to clear the magically expanding secretions to achieve any sort of relief.

But back to the "dry." My skin is shriveling, scaling, and itching as I type.

Did I mention we're under a red flag warning for most of the state?

It's also really freakin' cold, my pilot light won't light, and the water heater (which broke on Friday and the landlord hasn't bothered to fix yet) is dead, so a nice warm shower is out of the question. In fact, running any sort of water causes it to pour out of some pipe near the water heater (even though it's supposedly off).

God, I love California! I totally get why everyone wants to move here.

Posted by Da Goddess at 07:52 PM | Comments (0)

Cookin' With Little Dude

No, we weren't cooking.

A few weeks ago, LD and I were in Barnes & Noble. It's one of his favorite places. We'll go in and hang out for hours, just browsing and reading. He thinks it's fun!

So anyway...this particular trip led me to discover one of my dear child's secrets. He's such a strange kid.

We were walking past a display of cookbooks -- I was a bit ahead of him -- when he spied one that caused him to grab my arm and pull me back. He was doing his best wriggling puppy impression and pointing.

"Mom, I gotta have this book," he said.

"Which one?" I couldn't tell exactly where he was pointing.

"THAT one! Alton Brown's."

"Whaaaaaaat?"

"Alton Brown. You know...he's really good, Mom."

"What do you know about Alton Brown?"

"Mo-o-o-o-o-m! Alton. Brown. He does science experiments on his show while he's cooking. It's FOOD + SCIENCE. Two of my favorite things. I gotta have that book. I gotta."

Oy. vey.

Brown's probably the source of his endless mushroom facts, too.

Oh, and no. Alton Brown has nothing to do with my B≈A query.

Posted by Da Goddess at 01:09 AM | Comments (2)

November 28, 2006

If B ≈ A, Does B Get Bonus Points?

Seriously. If B is almost equal to A (in whatever silly, screwed up equation I've devised), does B get bonus points for being almost exactly the answer? The answer to what is irrelevant. Just believe that.

Let's say A is the standard to which all other letters must aspire. Now, B is pretty damn high up there in all respects, but still can never be A. And yet, while A is the ideal, A is simply not available. Thus one might think B is an adequate substitution for A, being so close and all.

To be fair, there certain properties B possesses that A does not. At this point, one could argue the case for B being the better choice if judge solely on B's own merits. But would B have even been in the running if not for A's absence in the equation? A set the bar high. A has left a very unique imprint and can never truly be replaced. So if A can't be replaced, why bother with B at all? I'll tell ya -- I think a loss of any factor leaves a void to be filled. You fill the void because balance is essential. With A or B, there's no balance.

Still, the question remains: If B is almost equal to A, does B get bonus points for being almost A? And no, C doesn't stand a chance. Nor does D. Forget F. G is absolutely out of the running altogether. Has been from Day 1.

Posted by Da Goddess at 12:04 PM | Comments (5)

November 16, 2006

Love Advice from Grandma

Damn Jake La Botz. He just had to go and conjure up memories I'd fought to suppress.

I don't talk about Rob much. Or rather, I don't write about him here. Especially here. His death still sits heavy on my heart and mind, but I don't talk about him much. What I feel and what I remember are far too personal to share with the world. Except, sometimes...

So this thing with Jake La Botz...how exactly does it tie in with Rob? I was listening to this song and, like many of Jake's pieces, there was this rawness and abruptness, humor amongst the tenderness, irony in his observations. In most of Rob's stories, you could find all of this, and more. And damn if this guy didn't make me cry as I recalled some of the stories I was told.

But the crying isn't as awful as it used to be. It hurts to think of my friend being gone, but there's more of a peace to it now than there was before. When I think of Rob, whether during a conversation with friends or just stumbling across something that triggers a memory, I ache over the demons that haunted him and the loneliness of his final moments. Almost within the same breath, I smile with the thought of how he delighted in storytelling, entertaining, and his marvelous sense of humor. The mixture of these emotions and memories are as confusing as they are comforting. Comforting? Yeah. There's comfort in knowing my life was touched by such an extraordinary man.

And all of this came to a head a few weeks ago. I was talking with one of my guitar-slingin' friends, a man accomplished in the blues and many other musical genres. He's southern, of course. And there was something in his voice, something in the way he turned a phrase, something in the direction our conversation went...but we ended up talking about Rob and the legacy men and woman with his curious brand of "being" leave us when they go. Couple weeks after, this friend and I were talking again via long distance wirelessness, and this time he brought up our previous conversation. He wanted to know more about Rob and I told him. I gave him the link to Gut Rumbles. What better way to get to know him than to read his words, right? Well, we all know Rob, while ever-present in word, was much more than mere words on some blog. He was light pink and deep purple laughter, red raw anger; he was the bright yellow of the sunniest days, sometimes in song and sometimes in story, and sometimes just in being. Rob was occasionally green in fresh expression, blue in humor, and even gray and black darkness from time to time. And all that made for more than a colorful character some of us got to know. Most importantly, Rob was a human being who brought so many things to our lives in many ways. When I'm all raw-nerved and sad, it hurts like hell to think of never hearing his voice live again. Then, I stop and think of how lucky I was to have him in my life, to see he laugh and play with his son, to fall victim to his jokes, and to have felt the warmth of his hand on mine for even a second.

So, without further ado, here's the lyrics to the song that got me started down this road of self-indulgent burst of mourning. I let you figure out for yourselves how this fits.

I went on down to the old folks home, cause folks was saying Grandma didn’t have long. And I was hoping she would just hold on so I could tell her, “I love you.”

When I got there she didn’t seem surprised but there was a funny look in my Grandma’s eyes, staring off into space. Maybe some other place where other Things are known. I cried and said what I came to say, then I wanted to run away. I smelled death on her breath and was a little afraid, but I kissed her, on the lips, anyway. And I thought she might already be dead til she looked at me and she said…

She said:
“WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU KNOW ABOUT LOVE, BOY?”

Well I know it’s a many splendored thing. And most folks catch it in the spring. And… aint it what made the birdies sing, Grandma?

At this point she interrupted me…mumbled something about misery, and love blowing hard like the wind outside, chapping your lips and chapping your hide. She said,
“Lovers are quick to try and grip it. Some turn around and spit back in it. It holds you but your never gonna hold it. It can’t be shaped and it’ll never be molded. I used to sing praise unto it, but my hopefulness, well, it came un-glued. When the sun sank behind it, it didn’t give a damn that I wined and dined it. All I can tell you boy…let it blow…blow…let it blow…let it blow.”

Well I do appreciate your advice, but I found something that’s pretty nice. I just fell in love with a really good girl. I know it’s going to be o.k.

She said:
“WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU KNOW ABOUT LOVE, BOY?”
She said, “If you really think you love the girl…help her take out the trash…”

Posted by Da Goddess at 10:44 PM | Comments (3)

November 12, 2006

Le Sigh

Finally got the computer stuff fixed. Sorta.

I can't get an Internet connection to save my life (thank God for one computer in the house with such magical powers!) and I'm just a wee bit frustrated. However, the upside to this is that I'll be able to get some real writing done, I can listen to music while I write, and work on some sound editing for a friend -- the same one who got the computer happy again.

And, if I'm really desperate for something to do, I could edit a ton of photos I've neglected for oh so long.

Posted by Da Goddess at 02:27 AM | Comments (4)

November 08, 2006

A Neighborhood Park All Covered in Cheese

Sports Night was good television. I mean, it was so good, it was scary. Frightening, even. The rapid-fire dialogue, the intelligent dialogue -- it was the dialogue, dialogue that occasionally hit you over the head with its brilliance that made the show. Well, the writing and casting didn't hurt.

And the thing is, I cried when it was unceremoniously dumped from ABC's lineup lo those many years ago. Sure, most of the cast went on to bigger and better gigs. I hear Felicity Huffman got some cushy job someplace, and Peter Krause did some cable show...

But really, few shows have ever matched the level of smarts this show had. Studio 60 on the Sunset Strip is damn close, in its own way, and I'm watching. Are you? Watching? Studio 60, I mean. If you liked Sports Night, you should be watching Studio 60. In fact, it was one such discussion that lead to the appearance of the complete Sports Night DVD collection to end up on my doorstep. (Thanks, Nick!) Damn if it isn't the best show I've ever had on DVD on my doorstep.

Anyhow, I just want you to know, you should be watching Studio 60 because it's the closest thing we have to Sports Night and Sports Night was brilliant. And it's not faulty logic on your part to think I'm implying Studio 60 has that same brilliance, because that's exactly my intent. So there.

Dan Rydell: I'm not distracted.
Dave: In three, two...
Dan Rydell: The Sophomore sensation accredits her agility and quick first step to her father who used to take her to a neighborhood park all covered in cheese. We'll be bringing you part two of the story tomorrow night...
[back in the Control Room]
Jeremy Goodwin: Did he just say cheese?
Elliot: He did just say cheese.
Dana Whitaker: What was it supposed to be?
Jeremy Goodwin: What was it *supposed* to be?
Natalie Hurley: Let me find it.
Jeremy Goodwin: "A park all covered with cheese"?
Dana Whitaker: I had three people talking in my ear.
Natalie Hurley: I can't find it, what block?
Kim: We just did it.
Kim: The 50's
Will: 55
Jeremy Goodwin: How about "a park all covered with trees"?
Natalie Hurley: He said cheese?
Jeremy Goodwin: Welcome to the show

______

Casey McCall: Alyson, do you know I speak four languages?
Dan Rydell: You speak three languages.
Casey McCall: I speak four languages.
Dan Rydell: You speak French, Spanish and German.
Casey McCall: I dabble in a little English.

_______

Damn if they didn't dabble amazingly in English.

Gotta go. I still have 4 discs left in the set and I need to reformat the computer. Perfect combo, if you ask me: something I love with something I hate.

Posted by Da Goddess at 04:30 PM | Comments (4)