My mother found out recently that she has cancer. So scary. This week she had a hysterectomy, and had her ovaries and pelvic lymph nodes taken out as well. My father was excellent at keeping us all up to date via SMS, but the day she had the surgery felt endless, still.
Post surgery, it looks like the cancer may have been contained entirely within the uterus, so after some time to recover from the surgery she may be fine with no further action needed! I am feeling very thankful.
Tuesday, April 17, 2012
Saturday, March 24, 2012
Saturday, March 17, 2012
Tired
Ravenna is in her dance class right now. I am tired. I like her having the opportunity to dance, to become more aware of her body, and to socialize, but it really makes Saturday mornings a whole lot less restful.
Monday, March 12, 2012
new fangled contraptions
Here we go, first post ever from my new smartphone. (Such a lovely early birthday present!)
I've been thinking about things I'd like to post quite often, usually when I am out and about with no easy access to computers; maybe this will help me to actually get things like that posted.
Tuesday, November 22, 2011
Feet
Eight feet belonging to six different people were discovered along the coast of British Columbia between August 2007 and August 2011.
That seems a bit strange and macabre. I would never expect to find a human foot while strolling the coast.
That seems a bit strange and macabre. I would never expect to find a human foot while strolling the coast.
Monday, October 24, 2011
Time, again
There's never enough time in the day.
I wish I had 2 or 3 minions that I could just set to do my bidding all day, every day, when I head off to school.
Maybe...
Yes, I think I could be content with that.
I wish I had 2 or 3 minions that I could just set to do my bidding all day, every day, when I head off to school.
Maybe...
- a Laundry-Cooking-Shopping Minion
- an Unpacking-Boxes Minion
- a TakingDownWallpaper-PatchingWalls-Painting Minion.
Yes, I think I could be content with that.
Tuesday, October 18, 2011
Time
Time is slipping through my fingers. Yesterday, I was standing right there...and now suddenly 3 years are past.
It reminds me a bit of sitting in the back seat of the car as a child, trying to focus on the world swirling by outside. I'd set my attention to one spot and it would come into focus - a tree, an overturned wheelbarrow, and a field spreading out behind - but I could only hold it for a short moment before it slipped away. All the while everything surrounding that spot rushed by in such a blurred haze that I could not pick out any details except for swishes of color.
And, yet, if I did not apply that focused attention to singular spots along the way, they also becomes nothing more than a swish of colors rushing by.
That streaming, unfocused rush of colors ultimately consumed everything.
That is how life feels right now. I can focus on scattered spots here and there to bring them out in more clarity, but everything else is a rush and a swirl, and even these focused spots ultimately get caught up in the whirl as well.
It reminds me a bit of sitting in the back seat of the car as a child, trying to focus on the world swirling by outside. I'd set my attention to one spot and it would come into focus - a tree, an overturned wheelbarrow, and a field spreading out behind - but I could only hold it for a short moment before it slipped away. All the while everything surrounding that spot rushed by in such a blurred haze that I could not pick out any details except for swishes of color.
And, yet, if I did not apply that focused attention to singular spots along the way, they also becomes nothing more than a swish of colors rushing by.
That streaming, unfocused rush of colors ultimately consumed everything.
That is how life feels right now. I can focus on scattered spots here and there to bring them out in more clarity, but everything else is a rush and a swirl, and even these focused spots ultimately get caught up in the whirl as well.
Thursday, April 21, 2011
Sweden
The first several months were really hard.
Things are starting to pick up now.
I'm actually starting to feel at home.
Still some hurdles to overcome and a lot of adjusting to do, but the sun is coming out and it's spring in more ways than one. Here comes the sun, little darlin', here comes the sun... and I say, it's all right.
I am meaning to come out of my antisocial hibernation and start catching up on correspondence one of these days soon, and perhaps start taking and posting pictures. Will link that here if I don't put it here in the first place.
Things are starting to pick up now.
I'm actually starting to feel at home.
Still some hurdles to overcome and a lot of adjusting to do, but the sun is coming out and it's spring in more ways than one. Here comes the sun, little darlin', here comes the sun... and I say, it's all right.
I am meaning to come out of my antisocial hibernation and start catching up on correspondence one of these days soon, and perhaps start taking and posting pictures. Will link that here if I don't put it here in the first place.
Friday, January 28, 2011
Small Happiness
I'm glad, though, that blogger is letting me post properly. When I posted the r.i.p. post I actually had to send it from my email to blogger, because I could not get the blogger posting page to load on any window on any browser. The frustration I felt, wanting so badly to express something, and the tools themselves blocking my way.
Spring Cleaning...Wish It Were Spring, Anyway
I went cleaning out spam comments, just now, and...a great deal of the non-spam comments that exist on this blog were from bem.
So many thoughtful responses to the random, infrequent posts these last few years.
I miss bem.
So many thoughtful responses to the random, infrequent posts these last few years.
I miss bem.
Wednesday, January 05, 2011
R.I.P. bem
R.I.P. bem
A friend of mine passed away today.
Brian was one of my first close friends off the internet. I played a MUD back from....1995 to 2001, maybe, and he was the implementer.
If he was here, still, he would have been one of the first people to read this post; even after all these years and my long periods of blogging inactivity, he still kept an eye on here.
He lived in Portland, OR, which is close to Seattle, so when I moved there in 2000 I would see him every so often.
I helped him through some rough times in his life, and he was strong and supportive for me through some of mine.
His MUD (rom.org 9000) went down in the early 2000's, but someone from the MUD convinced him to put it back up a year ago. I logged on tonight for the second time in maybe 8 years. Talking to people who I was fond of, in the way that I am fond of Rampage people now, when I was 16, 17, 18....
It felt surreal.
There was someone logged in tonight who had a ring item that had been "engraved".... by me. And his description had all sorts of nods to me. I could hardly remember who he was, but I had the distinct sense that it was someone I had liked quite well at some point in my life.
It's a bit unsettling to realize there's so much I can't remember.
And that time keeps on flowing by.
And I might be gone, at any moment.
Or if I'm still here, soon enough the moments I am living now will be moments that are lost to my memory.
A few years ago Brian met the love of his life, and about three years ago, asked her to marry him. I think the last time I saw him was at his wedding. He was so happy. This woman and this relationship really seemed to transform him. Every time I talked to him since, he seemed so happy.
It feels like - it was too soon.
He isn't that much older than me, he was a peer.
He'd recently found such great happiness in his life.
I loved him, he was very dear to me -
I meant to visit him before I moved to Sweden, but that's one of the things that never happened, I was so busy. Now it's too late.
I wasn't ready to lose him.
It's awful to see him go so soon after he had found great happiness in his life.
It makes me feel more mortal myself. I feel very blessed these last few years, but I could pass away and lose it all at any time.
Or lose the people closest to me.
It's scary.
And, my friend, Brian - it's sad.
I wrote him a mail today, after I found out. I know he'll never read it, but - I needed to say goodbye, somehow.
Brian, I will miss you.
I do miss you.
I am sad.
A friend of mine passed away today.
Brian was one of my first close friends off the internet. I played a MUD back from....1995 to 2001, maybe, and he was the implementer.
If he was here, still, he would have been one of the first people to read this post; even after all these years and my long periods of blogging inactivity, he still kept an eye on here.
He lived in Portland, OR, which is close to Seattle, so when I moved there in 2000 I would see him every so often.
I helped him through some rough times in his life, and he was strong and supportive for me through some of mine.
His MUD (rom.org 9000) went down in the early 2000's, but someone from the MUD convinced him to put it back up a year ago. I logged on tonight for the second time in maybe 8 years. Talking to people who I was fond of, in the way that I am fond of Rampage people now, when I was 16, 17, 18....
It felt surreal.
There was someone logged in tonight who had a ring item that had been "engraved".... by me. And his description had all sorts of nods to me. I could hardly remember who he was, but I had the distinct sense that it was someone I had liked quite well at some point in my life.
It's a bit unsettling to realize there's so much I can't remember.
And that time keeps on flowing by.
And I might be gone, at any moment.
Or if I'm still here, soon enough the moments I am living now will be moments that are lost to my memory.
A few years ago Brian met the love of his life, and about three years ago, asked her to marry him. I think the last time I saw him was at his wedding. He was so happy. This woman and this relationship really seemed to transform him. Every time I talked to him since, he seemed so happy.
It feels like - it was too soon.
He isn't that much older than me, he was a peer.
He'd recently found such great happiness in his life.
I loved him, he was very dear to me -
I meant to visit him before I moved to Sweden, but that's one of the things that never happened, I was so busy. Now it's too late.
I wasn't ready to lose him.
It's awful to see him go so soon after he had found great happiness in his life.
It makes me feel more mortal myself. I feel very blessed these last few years, but I could pass away and lose it all at any time.
Or lose the people closest to me.
It's scary.
And, my friend, Brian - it's sad.
I wrote him a mail today, after I found out. I know he'll never read it, but - I needed to say goodbye, somehow.
Brian, I will miss you.
I do miss you.
I am sad.
Tuesday, December 07, 2010
Göteborg to Leeds
Pigeons! In the train station!
So many people here with so many differently colored coats. In Sweden, it seems like almost everyones' coat is black.
The UK is unfamiliar to me, but it somehow feels so much more familiar than Sweden. In some ways, it almost feels more familiar than Seattle, as I sit gazing at the scenery out the trains. I don't know why that is. I don't think it is just the language - when I first noticed it, I was on a train full of Czechs, I think. The architecture, the fields, the occasional horse, the hedged lines between fields, the faint hint of frost seeping out from all the shadows and corners; perhaps it is in some ways like the midwest of my childhood, but in others not. Yet the feeling of familiarity is strong.
I found it funny to see Indian-looking people speaking with Scottish accents. Unexpected! My eyes and my ears could not reconcile.
I love subways. The feel in the core of my body standing on a crowded subway as it accellerates, runs speedily, and then decelerates, working to maintain balance. I feel taller, more at ease in my body, and more grounded when I step off. The faintly dirty, sour smell in the underground stations; I haven't smelled it since I was last in New York City,
Every train station that I have been to (3 so far) has been quite chilly. No overheating for these Brits! I like it.
I like London. I stepped out onto a London street at the King's Cross Station, and felt such joy! The buildings, the people, the double decker buses...I loved it the first time I saw it, at 13, and I still feel that way now that I see it again. I forget when I am away, but the moment I am here again and I step out into it, I want more. I want to visit London more. I want to explore her, to know her, to discover her crooks and crannies.
But, oh my - I had to pay to use the restroom. How very strange that was. Theoretically, I know that this is the way it works in other places, but I have never before paid to use the restroom, myself.
I am eating my first mincemeat pie. I'm not quite sure what consitutes mincemeat. I'm also not quite sure that I like it.
There is, of course, much that I should write about having to do with Sweden. But I think I am so deeply involved in processing it right now that I cannot step back to write about it. I feel more clear here on this short trip to the UK, a lovely little interlude.
I am, however, missing Henrik and Ravenna.
So many people here with so many differently colored coats. In Sweden, it seems like almost everyones' coat is black.
The UK is unfamiliar to me, but it somehow feels so much more familiar than Sweden. In some ways, it almost feels more familiar than Seattle, as I sit gazing at the scenery out the trains. I don't know why that is. I don't think it is just the language - when I first noticed it, I was on a train full of Czechs, I think. The architecture, the fields, the occasional horse, the hedged lines between fields, the faint hint of frost seeping out from all the shadows and corners; perhaps it is in some ways like the midwest of my childhood, but in others not. Yet the feeling of familiarity is strong.
I found it funny to see Indian-looking people speaking with Scottish accents. Unexpected! My eyes and my ears could not reconcile.
I love subways. The feel in the core of my body standing on a crowded subway as it accellerates, runs speedily, and then decelerates, working to maintain balance. I feel taller, more at ease in my body, and more grounded when I step off. The faintly dirty, sour smell in the underground stations; I haven't smelled it since I was last in New York City,
Every train station that I have been to (3 so far) has been quite chilly. No overheating for these Brits! I like it.
I like London. I stepped out onto a London street at the King's Cross Station, and felt such joy! The buildings, the people, the double decker buses...I loved it the first time I saw it, at 13, and I still feel that way now that I see it again. I forget when I am away, but the moment I am here again and I step out into it, I want more. I want to visit London more. I want to explore her, to know her, to discover her crooks and crannies.
But, oh my - I had to pay to use the restroom. How very strange that was. Theoretically, I know that this is the way it works in other places, but I have never before paid to use the restroom, myself.
I am eating my first mincemeat pie. I'm not quite sure what consitutes mincemeat. I'm also not quite sure that I like it.
There is, of course, much that I should write about having to do with Sweden. But I think I am so deeply involved in processing it right now that I cannot step back to write about it. I feel more clear here on this short trip to the UK, a lovely little interlude.
I am, however, missing Henrik and Ravenna.
Sunday, October 17, 2010
All That We Leave Behind
Steve said to me at breakfast the other day that my leaving is one of the most significant events in his life.
I'm really going to miss him, too.
:-/
I'm really going to miss him, too.
:-/
Happiness is a Nice Pair of Shoes
Someone said to me at the Beginner's Milonga last night, "I've always been too shy to talk to you, but I wanted to tell you I will miss your music. And your shoes. You have some of the best shoes."
Aww....
Aww....
Friday, October 15, 2010
Goodbye, Seattle Tango.
I cried tonight.
I didn't expect to. I was surprised when I did.
Tonight was a going away dance for me, hosted courtesy of Kathryn McDonald, at her practica at Dance Underground.
Quite a few people came. So many people that I was happy to see!
Greg Constantino DJed, and I loved it. The evening flowed nicely, and it was so lovely to be able to just dance, and not worry at all about what was going on or needed to be done.
I've never had a birthday dance or anything of the kind before, but tonight they insisted on a going away birthday-dance-style song for me. Greg played Jem's "Missing You", and then, to cries of "Opa! Opa!", he followed it with Israel Kamakawiwoʻole's "Somewhere Over The Rainbow".
I was touched, really, by both choices.
And I was touched by all the people who danced with me during the two songs. I felt...loved. And I felt so much love for all of them. And for this community that I've been a part of for so long now.
I was so touched, in fact, that I made a short speech after the second. I did not plan to talk. I don't even know any more what I said - just that it was from my heart.
I am sad.
Seattle has been long and hard and beautiful and wonderful and horrible and terrible and lovely. So many things. I've been here for 1/3 of this life, now, that I have been living...and here...now...I am walking away. From everyone. From tango. From friends. From people who feel now like family. From everything.
What am I doing?
After the dancing was done, the music was done, Kathryn came over and hugged me and said goodbye, and I could not help crying.
Ah...without endings, there could be no beginning.
I wish I could have the beginning without this end.
Thank you, Seattle.
Thank you everyone who came tonight.
Thank you to a community that I have sometimes struggled with, but which has also given me much love, and in which I have felt myself at home.
I will miss you.
I didn't expect to. I was surprised when I did.
Tonight was a going away dance for me, hosted courtesy of Kathryn McDonald, at her practica at Dance Underground.
Quite a few people came. So many people that I was happy to see!
Greg Constantino DJed, and I loved it. The evening flowed nicely, and it was so lovely to be able to just dance, and not worry at all about what was going on or needed to be done.
I've never had a birthday dance or anything of the kind before, but tonight they insisted on a going away birthday-dance-style song for me. Greg played Jem's "Missing You", and then, to cries of "Opa! Opa!", he followed it with Israel Kamakawiwoʻole's "Somewhere Over The Rainbow".
I was touched, really, by both choices.
And I was touched by all the people who danced with me during the two songs. I felt...loved. And I felt so much love for all of them. And for this community that I've been a part of for so long now.
I was so touched, in fact, that I made a short speech after the second. I did not plan to talk. I don't even know any more what I said - just that it was from my heart.
I am sad.
Seattle has been long and hard and beautiful and wonderful and horrible and terrible and lovely. So many things. I've been here for 1/3 of this life, now, that I have been living...and here...now...I am walking away. From everyone. From tango. From friends. From people who feel now like family. From everything.
What am I doing?
After the dancing was done, the music was done, Kathryn came over and hugged me and said goodbye, and I could not help crying.
Ah...without endings, there could be no beginning.
I wish I could have the beginning without this end.
Thank you, Seattle.
Thank you everyone who came tonight.
Thank you to a community that I have sometimes struggled with, but which has also given me much love, and in which I have felt myself at home.
I will miss you.
Wednesday, September 29, 2010
Google Search
The following two columns amused me terribly when they first came out, and I still get a kick out of them now. Here they are, for posterity (and so I don't have to search all of the internet again next time I want to reference and find them for a friend).
- Awkward Suggestions: Let's have fun with the Google search box, by Michael Agger on slate.com.
- The winner of the Google Suggest contest: Is It Wrong To Sleep With Your Sister?", by Michael Agger on slate.com.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
