a time i wish i had my camera

So, I've been cuddled up in my public library desk since 2:15 this sunny, 55 degree, slight breeze afternoon and cuddled is certainly not an accurate term. Huddled wouldn't work either because the desk is quite spacious - fitting all 15 of my books, my two notebooks, my water, apple, cell phone, laptop and portrait of David Bowie for inspiration (juuust kiiiddin')

But, I am comfortable - with where I am at on my thesis draft and with the quiet nature the library provides.

Around 6:50 p.m., I decided to leave my nest and adventure three blocks down the creek to Boulder High School Auditorium. My favorite 9 year old in Boulder was performing at her elementary school's annual talent show and I hadn't yet seen her routine.

She went on at 7:20. I am not just saying this because she is the coooooolest 9 year old I've ever met, but she was the best. Emmitt, the 1st grade handstand walking kid was pretty skilled, especially awesome because he had the music of Austin Powers lining his performance, and even the kid who wrote his own song on the piano (which was better than all 6 other piano performances) was pretty impressive. But Haley wins, hands down. Tricks on a Hula Hoop I had never even thought possible AND choreographed hula dancing to the music.

Applause. She made my night and rejuvenated my energy.

Andes in the Rockies

This will be a picture guided post.














I suppose taking out my camera more than once might be beneficial to presenting an unspeakable weekend...

Every moment's a little bit later

After doing what has become to be my morning routine of political news, blog checks, email sweep and thesis musings, I began to notice how rapidly I was being hurtled through the Internet. Link hopping, tab-opening, bookmarking and intermittently shooting off emails to people I thought would be interested in the Internet gems I'd collected along the way.

The web-world has changed our lives so comprehensively, yet because it has all happened so fast, most of us haven't noticed how comprehensively it has changed human interaction. Those who do notice go in many different directions with their observation; some revolt and refuse to join facebook, myspace, twitter, etc. and insist on keeping their outdated nokia; some sprinkle their lives with text messages, facebook pokes and youtube videos; and then there are those who thrive on it and use the growing phenomenon to their advantage.

There are certainly more gradations of web-obsession/apathy, but these are the typical ones I've found in Boulder. I like to see myself somewhere in between the first two: the girl who joined the social communities but never really uses them, who texts messages but will not allow a string longer than two responses to transpire, who blogs but doesn't rely on it as her sense of community, etc.

The reason I am in the grey section of tech-obsession is for many reasons, but chief among them is that I believe the most sensible ideas are swimming amidst the middle-ground of the extremes. I believe in balance.

Those who revolt are losing out because one must adapt, to a certain degree, in order to compete.

Those who blogtwitpoketextsendetc and rely upon the direction technology is going in are often unwittingly socially distant from real world interaction. The reason I want to emphasize the fact that the latter group is generally unconsciously "distant" from the "real world" is that I think these people are caught up.

>interlude of definitions<

Distant: unaware. (I will expound upon this later)

Real World: a hug or conversation that isn't contingent in any way upon anything besides that instant of human interaction

>end of interlude<

One may be able to know what is going on in all corners of their city, state, country and world through twitter messages, RSS feeds and bulletins, but how deep will these things impact the person if said person is merely skimming through due to the profusion of information coming at him/her? I am not denying that staying informed is important, but I think some people are taking it too far. I will not point any fingers, but some of these Internet social networking schemes are starting to irritate me so much that I am blogging against bloggers right now... oh shit... hypocrite or unhinged?

The distance I see in extreme techies is the idea that maybe they think they can be machines. A computer can process the amount of information that the common-techie is receiving on a daily basis, and it doesn't matter how much time the computer puts into the data, because computers do not think! The difference between man and machine is that we are given the ability to mentally process, actively form and connect ideas, in a time-consuming manner. It takes time for humans to fully process things, and that is okay. In this technologically spiraling world, we need to stay human, be more aware and thoughtful, instead of thinking we can cyborg ourselves to try and become as functional as machines.

Be aware. Notice your breath or your heart beat shift as you go to give a hug. Sometimes I feel like people are becoming more in tune with the hum of their vibrating blackberry than they are to the cadence of the human heart beat.

This brings me back to the Wilco quote I have as today's label: Every moment's a little bit later. The way I interpret this line is through hippie-kumbaya colored glasses: take each moment for what it is, at the size it is - don't try to overload your moments. Live in a comfortable pulse; think drizzle rain windshield wiper blades, not downpour mode.

I am really into balance lately. Balance. Just say it, it is such a calming word.

He said I'm not normal

But I blushed when he smiled when
we both noticed the passenger ahead of us
tapping to a no-name song
playing on our car radio
in traffic behind the construction men

And I smirked when we woke up and turned
to see the other awake already,
accomplishing nothing but comfort
and kindness -
with a rivulet between us

I laughed that a liter of whisky
was finished in one sitting.
A conversation pending.
A night both worth and
hard at forgetting.

"Normal" sounds like a cat from
a Garfield cartoon sent to Abu Dhabi
for being a nuisance of questions

And Tom at the Beat Bookstore
said I fire 'em like a pistol
And he himself can't quit from persisting
to spew riveting information.

So, I must have one-uped someone
un-one-up-able
in the realm of "Nermalness"

And, sure, I wonder why we've never
kissed,
but what else could ever come of this -
our abnormal, untouchable relationship?

: a hug that lasts, persists and twists
into an anomalous tag-team
break from actual existence

is it.

What a word means to me.

what a word means to me is
a silver dollar, stolen
from my mother

what a word means to me -
a favor, reciprocated in
the day that follows

What it means is
a dollop of butter on a
fresh-out-of-the-oven biscuit

It means a moment noticed
A bookcase polished
Attention focused

It means 'I love you' meant it
Dollars spent worth spending

It means your mother kept it:
the hidden notebook
tucked for forgotten

the words you wrapped up
in a blanket, shoved
under your childhood bed, it

means love love still exists
though yesterday you faked it

Sentiments left on paper,
lost to be found twelve years later

A word means memories, they follow
and though you never meant
to call her

Your speed dial trumped you once again
and yes, even the leaders follow,
eventually everyone falters -

but the word, it's there as fodder . . .

Obamamatopoeia

THE ENGLISH LANGUAGE, OBAMAFIED.

Check out this article, where Slate.com created a widget for "the unabridged Encyclopedia Baracktannica."

My buddy Andy is in town, visiting from Brooklyn, and after a lengthy day of traveling to Estes Park for Bloody Mary's at the Stanley Hotel, getting lost with me as navigator (surprise, surprise), and Margaritas & Quesadillas, Andy and I attempted to uni-lucid dream. When that didn't work, we got up and perused the internet for the latest political news. This is when we ran across this article and decided to participate in the political process of wordplay.

Obama Mama - any mother in support of Barack Obama

Obamathon - an all-night fundraiser in support of Barack Obama

Barawkward - an uncomfortable exchange of forced pleasantries between candidates

Obamadeus - a young prodigy capable of composing oratory masterpieces

Baraille - tactile political paraphernalia in support of Barack Obama

Baright - the luminescent Barack Obama auras given off during exceptionally inspirational speeches

Barackitis - a contagious ailment afflicting Obama-supporters; side effects include skipping work for Obama rallys, bouts of hope and sporadic yelps of "Yes we can!"

O'Bama - the temporarily adopted last name of Obamaphiles on St. Patrick's Day

Obamabellum - the area of the brain regulating all coordination of Obama rally events

Wash your hands before

you write! You'll get dinner's remnants on the blank naked column between the thin teal lines and it will sit there like an unwanted freckle people assume to be a mole or, worse, a wart - something mutated on the face of the page and we all know title and covers are judged despite proverbial warnings...

Even after we stretch,

we feel the tendons pull. They yank at us, muscles taut- with oxygen, or lactic acid or something unspecified by science -it occurs in such a way, we feel we've lost all our youth. How could we be so oblivious to its slow departure? Its achingly gradual thump that echoes deep in the past of our legs, our skin, our heads and perforated hearts of fissured innocence. Our naked anatomy grown so slow, we become body hollowed out with yellow toxins, then repaired by anti-oxidants, eventual skeletons of self removed slightly from former self, removed slightly again from self that came before that self, pungent bulbed onions of yesterday husked away like a patient garlic peeler - each day, a half-life, a cross-section of a former self.

I made a List.

I made a List,
and I felt good about the list:
Potential tasks for the day.

But what is potential
but a mocking carrot
we writer's chase in lists
and forget about
when we see the rabbits
run past us in pursuit -

We admire their persistence and write
a witty (or humdrum) note
about their eternal
perseverance of the unattainable.

It was a start,
but my initial enthusiasm withered
after the finishing of the List, it seems.

The List inhibits efficiency for me.

"L.A. Times: Barack Obama for Democratic Nominee"

The L.A. Times | February 02, 2008
By L.A. Times Editorial Board

But just because the ballot features two strong candidates does not mean that it is difficult to choose between them. We urge voters to make the most of this historic moment by choosing the Democrat most focused on steering the nation toward constructive change: We strongly endorse Barack Obama… No public relations campaign could do more than Obama's mere presence in the White House to defuse anti-American passion around the world, nor could any political experience surpass Obama's life story in preparing a president to understand the American character. His candidacy offers Democrats the best hope of leading America into the future, and gives Californians the opportunity to cast their most exciting and consequential ballot in a generation. In the language of metaphor, Clinton is an essay, solid and reasoned; Obama is a poem, lyric and filled with possibility. Clinton would be a valuable and competent executive, but Obama matches her in substance and adds something that the nation has been missing far too long -- a sense of aspiration.

Source: http://www.barackobama.com/index.php

Follow up.