born into this mess
Saturday, January 29, 2005
  the saga of Tachi and Ihcat
Tachi's arch-nemesis, the black neighbor kitty, is looking at me through the storm door. I call him Ihcat, because he's like a photo negative of my own personal kitty. Tachi snoozes curled up on my ski-coat, oblivious of his mortal enemy nosing around on my porch. when he sees Ihcat outside, he bounces through the yard after him waving his tail in fuzzy white questions.

,, ?
After another trip out east, two more tubes of blood, a shot in the hip and some steroid pills, I'm feeling somewhat better. Not fabulous, but I can at least walk without wincing.

the nurse who drew my blood today, little knowing how obsessed i am with diseases, said, well, if they rule out arthritis and lupus you should get an MRI, cos it could be the onset of MS.

Wednesday, January 26, 2005
  the little white cat
oh yes. it's time for a post about Tachi...

Tachi, also known as Mouse, has completely trashed my house. I'm sure some of the blame lies on his foster sisters, Ms B and Ms Djax, and probably on me, but I'm refusing to take any respsonsiblity today. My floor is covered in q-tips and incense sticks he's pulled out of their boxes to bat around and pounce upon, he's just knocked over a bag of M&Ms, and he's pushed half the contents of the junk table off to make room for him to nest. I just caught him balanced on the edges of the trash can digging for god knows what.

Still, I have to give him credit. His English is improving rapidly (he's thoroughly mastered the words ME and NOW), he's the best boyfriend a girl could have, and he's impeccably groomed.

I haven't managed to make myself clean up, either, since this arthritis business is killing me. I called the Church Health Center and I have an appointment on the 3rd for a general check-up, so I imagine it'll be another month or so before I can figure out what's going on. In the meantime, I get worn out climbing up my steps, and after walking across campus all day, I just want to lie in bed.

I'm having a hard time motivating myself to go to my psych classes, which are sophomore level. After a year of graduate level literary theory classes, I'm pretty bored. I don't want to make the mistake of just showing up for exams, even though attendence isn't really required, but being in a overheated room with a bunch of udergrads who erupt into hysterical giggles when the professor says "shit" is more than I can really stand, especially when the majority of class seems to involve going over what we need to know from the book for our exams.

I mean, really. I wrote a 10 page paper on Erik Erikson's stages of psychosocial development as they applied to a novel, IN SPANISH, at the age of 19. I'm used to being introduced to a subject and then going out on my own to absorb as much as I can about it. Maybe if I ask really nicely, after I get done with the research methods classes they'll let me skip to some hard classes. I have a tendency to blow off easy classes and do badly out of boredom. I can't do that this semester because I need to make As.

must go clean the Pilates Studio. hips and knees are on fire. hating it.
Tuesday, January 25, 2005
  a revision
de profundis clamo

a few years younger than I
my father spent the summer on a submarine.

I have no words to describe
my horror of the deep
so there is no air to fill my lungs
to tell you his story

a young man
who sank in dreams of drowning

fathoms removed from light
from air, from

Monday, January 24, 2005
  Poem for Monday, January 24, 2005

I Met my Love

by David Markson

I met my love upon a stair
When love was newly o'er.
Ah, far too soon for us to share
But silent nod, no more.
No sorrow lay upon her yet,
Who swiftly turned away;
no simplest gesture of regret,
Nor any word to say.
Those wounds we bear of love remiss,
The saddest guilts that lie,
Touch smaller pain, I think, than this:
This silent passing by.

Burke's Book Store
1719 Poplar Avenue
Memphis, TN 38104
(901) 278-7484
Winner of Best of Memphis in Memphis Flyer
for 7 Straight Years
Sunday, January 23, 2005
I cannot get you close enough, I said to him, pitiful as a child, and never can and never will. We cannot get from anyone else the things we need to fill the endless terrible need, not to be dissolved, not to sink back into sand, heat, broom, air, thinnest air. And so we revolve around each other and our dreams collide. It is embarassing that it should be so hard. Look out that window in any weather. We are all part of all that glamour, drama, change, and should not be ashamed.

Ellen Gilchrist, I Cannot Get You Close Enough
  don't call it sunburn
I had a blast at the Tsunami benefit show last night. I saw flocks of people I haven't seen in ages, who pretty much unanimously commented on how well I am doing. I still grunnd my teeth and gnawed the insides of my cheeks raw, but I do that all the time anyway. I've got a date to meet my old girl friend S, who's been in Atlanta for 5 years, at the CK's where we all used to hang out after class on Tuesday.

I'm constantly surprised by how easy life has become. I don't mean silver platter easy, just that the little things that before seemed like 'slings and arrows of outrageous fortune' now just seem like, well, little things.

I remember this trick we used to do, if trick is the right thing to call it, where we'd stand in a doorway and lift our arms out from our sides until the backs of our hands were pressed against the doorframe. you press and push for a few minutes. then you step out of the door and relax your arms. they'll float up, seemingly of their own volition.

It's cold and sharp-breezed outside and my joints feel raw inside. I'm set up on the computer with a goosedown comforter and a pot of hot pau d'arco tea and my textbooks. and I'm not getting up, dammit.
I figured that after the depression had let up I'd go get the joint pain checked out, because I wanted to make sure it wasn't just a psychosomatic symptom. at this point I am positive it's either arthritis or lupus.

I'm going to try going to the school clinic to see if they'll maybe write me a prescription. technically I should see a rheumatologist, but I don't have insurance.

I'm trying to remember how long it's been. I've had an ache in my right ankle for a really long time, since junior year in college, that gradually spread up into my knees and hips and shoulders. my wrist and knuckles have been pretty sore and swollen since sophomore year in college.

it comes and goes. when the weather changes it feels like sunburn in my joints. or really bad cramps. when it's really bad it's hard to make myself get up. it does help to move around, but then after I stop moving around it gets worse. right now it's particularly bad in my hips and my knees. feels torn.

I've got to find another job, because my knees are getting so bad that cleaning is getting hard, but the problem is doing what. it hurts to sit still for long periods of time, it hurts to stand for long periods of time, it hurts to hold a pen. typing is not so bad, but it gets painful after about 10 minutes. my ideal job would involve getting paid to lie on my stomach and read. any thoughts?
Thursday, January 20, 2005
  no surrender
  empty words- DC vs Fallujah

For as long as whole regions of the world simmer in resentment and tyranny - prone to ideologies that feed hatred and excuse murder - violence will gather, and multiply in destructive power, and cross the most defended borders, and raise a mortal threat.

America's vital interests and our deepest beliefs are now one. From the day of our founding, we have proclaimed that every man and woman on this earth has rights, and dignity, and matchless value, because they bear the image of the maker of heaven and earth.

America's belief in human dignity will guide our policies, yet rights must be more than the grudging concessions of dictators; they are secured by free dissent and the participation of the governed. In the long run, there is no justice without freedom, and there can be no human rights without human liberty.

From all of you, I have asked patience in the hard task of
securing America, which you have granted in good measure. Our country has accepted obligations that are difficult to fulfil, and would be dishonourable to abandon.

Yet because we have acted in the great liberating tradition of this nation, tens of millions have achieved their freedom. And as hope kindles hope, millions more will find it.

You have seen that life is fragile, and evil is real...

whenever America acts for good, and the victims of disaster are given hope, and the unjust encounter justice, and the captives are set free.

text of Bush's speech from al-Jazeera
Pictures from crisis pictures
  what a crock of SHIT!!!
I'm glad I don't have a television or I might have broken it if I had to sit through the Liar's speech. It was hard enough to maintain my composure just reading it.

I feel so incredibly hopeless and helpless. Bush and his supporters have made it clear enough to the world that they really just don't care what anyone else thinks. Voting doesn't help. Protesting doesn't help. Writing to senators and calling the White House doesn't help. The Forces of Evil have taken control of my country and there is nothing I can do.

The things this man has the balls to say make me shake. I firmly consider myself a pacifist, but I am going to be praying for Bush's removal from office, because it's obvious that nothing less than supernatural force will get him out.

This isn't a Buffy episode. The Assumption happened 4 years ago and the death and destruction have not stopped since then.

This man is a demon. That's the only explanation I can come up with. You know, I didn't use to believe in evil, but that's the only thing that can explain this man's actions. I really believe that we are on the brink of another fascist-led Holocaust.
I guess this time they're going after the Muslims.

I'm so afraid.

what if america were iraq?
Wednesday, January 19, 2005
  what a waste
if you have any interest at all in knowing what it's like to be a young woman living in Iraq during the occupation, go read this. start with August of 2003 and read it all. prepare to be struck dumb.

if you don't have any interest, shame on you. the thoughtlessness of the American public makes me sick to my stomach.

tomorrow the Representative of Thoughtlessness and Greed will be re-inaugurated, despite his lies. despite the fact that Iraq lies in ruins. despite the fact that no WMDs were ever found. despite the Medicare reforms and the tax breaks for the rich.

I'm afraid for the future of my country. the poor get poorer and more and more dispirited. the mentally ill shiver in doorways, nowhere to go, no-one to make them well. the ignorant get more and more ignorant, and boast of their intolerance. we stock the shelves of our grocery and drug stores with mass-produced items packaged in plastic. our landfills are piled high with single-use food storage containers, soda bottles, useless junk. new products are Better because they are disposable.

we throw so much away every day.

tomorrow, we will throw away so much more.
Tuesday, January 18, 2005
rrr. I wrote a new post earlier and apparently it didn't work.

I'm in bed on my new iBook, which is my new Favorite Thing Ever. it has an airport card, and the university of memphis has wireless on the whole campus, so I can play on the internet in class...

actually I'm pretty sure that all 4 classes are going to require paying attention. which I would anyway, not wanting to waste any money and being Grown Up now. still, I haven't got a single final paper and I'm a bit sad about that. I don't think I've ever had finals without that tremendous need to haunt the library and mutter furiously to myself as I walk to my car,then stay up all night drinking hot tea, trying to get 30 pages written.

I'm exhausted from trying to figure out my computer. iTunes keeps cutting off the ends of songs I am listening to. It's bedtime.

Monday, January 17, 2005
  Poem for Monday, January 17, 2005

On Watching Politicians Perform at Martin Luther King's Funeral

by Etheridge Knight

Hypocrites shed tears
like shiny snake skins

words rolling
thru the southern air

the scent of flowers
mingles with Jack Daniels
and Cutty Sark

the last snake skin slithers
to the floor where
black baptist feet
have danced in ecstasy

they turn
to begin

manicured fingers shuffling
the same stacked deck
with the ante

Burke's Book Store
1719 Poplar Avenue
Memphis, TN 38104
(901) 278-7484
Winner of Best of Memphis in Memphis Flyer
for 7 Straight Years
Saturday, January 15, 2005
...a handful of poems by Soufie, who is
12 years old and lives in Tehran and likes haiku and wants to learn
Japanese and live in Japan. The translations are by the Iranian editor Ali

Poets against the War

Soufie's poems (no titles):

How poor are the children!
All the time,
they have to learn
they have to be careful not to be blamed
and they have to fear God's punishment
Even on Fridays when nobody works
children have to work
they have so much to do
that they don't realize
when they are dreaming
or when they are awake

Lucky are the trees
who have nothing to do
but to turn yellow and green

At night, they are not afraid of the dark
They don't die like grandfathers
and they have many good friends
like the wind, rain and sunshine

And a friend like the dew
who always puts its head
on the shoulder of their leaves.

Sometimes I get a chocolate
and sometimes I get a beating
and I never know
when I'm asleep or awake

But now I'm very depressed
And I wish I were like angels
or I didn't exist at all
then I wouldn't always need to say "Hello."


I wish we would never lose each other
but could be lost in one another.


In children's eyes
a park is nothing but a green lawn.

In old men's eyes
a park is nothing but a few yellow benches.

Children should run in the parks
so the trees would not see the canes
and leaves
would not fall from their eyes.


God, with all his light,
walks in the darkness!

On the trail of his shoes,
trees grow.

And on the trail of his thoughts,
autumn appears.


On the streets
You see eyes with clouds inside
of wrinkled faces

And the faces of the mournful
are full of heavenly tears.

And those black, heartless clothes
that have nothing to do with poems.

Wednesday, January 12, 2005
  not one damn dime
Inauguration Day, Thursday, January 20th, 2005 is
"Not One Damn Dime Day" in America. On "Not One Damn Dime Day" those
who oppose what is happening in our name in Iraq can speak up with
a 24-hour national boycott of all forms of consumer
spending. During "Not One Damn Dime Day" please don't spend
money. Not one damn dime for gasoline. Not one damn dime for
necessities or for impulse purchases. Not one damn dime for anything
for 24 hours.
The object is simple: to remind the people in power
that the war in Iraq is immoral and illegal; that they are
responsible for starting it and that it is their responsibility to stop it.
"Not One Damn Dime Day" is to remind them, too, that
they work for the people of the United States of America, not for
the international corporations and K Street lobbyists
who represent the corporations and funnel cash into American
politics. There's no rally to attend. No marching to do. No
left or right wing agenda to rant about.. On "Not One Damn Dime Day"
you take action by doing nothing. You open your mouth by keeping your
wallet closed. For 24 hours, nothing gets spent, not one damn
dime, to remind our religious leaders and our politicians of their
moral responsibility to end the war in Iraq and give America back to the
people. Please share this email with as many people as possible.

and if you're not into this, no problem. just ignore. even if you don't
participate, don't forget that you can use this tactic for other issues that
you care about.
Monday, January 10, 2005
  It just may be a lunatic you're looking for
while shopping for school supplies at Target I ran into a woman who was on my ward at MMHI. she had just recently been released, after spending a month there and two in jail. the mentally ill are really given the shaft in this ignorant little town. turned down for disability, denied health insurance, dragged around from imcompetent doctor to incompetent doctor, locked up in jail, locked up in understaffed underfunded hospitals where they are so medicated they defy diagnosis. I wonder how many members of the mental health industry have actually been on the receiving end?

I'm lucky enough to have had the ability to educate myself. Most people have no idea what is wrong with them and suffer on until they go ungently into the night.

I'm becoming more and more sure that my experience on the receiving end will be valuable one day. I'm still trying to decide what exactly I want to do and how I should go about it; if I should pursue a doctorate in Psychology (too much writing) or just get an MA in Social work and become an LSCW and do therapy, perhaps with a hospital.

I'm not really feeling too much pressure to figure it out Right Now- I've only been feeling like a Real Person (as opposed to a Semblance) for a few weeks now.

Still, I totally heart buying school supplies. Made my day.
Sunday, January 09, 2005
  for the dream of love produces monsters
Criteria for Borderline Personality Disorder

A pervasive pattern of instability of interpersonal relationships, self-image, and affects, and
marked impulsivity beginning by early adulthood and present in a variety of contexts, as indicated
by five (or more) of the following:

1. frantic efforts to avoid real or imagined abandonment. Note: Do not include suicidal or
self-mutilating behavior covered in Criterion 5.

2. a pattern of unstable and intense interpersonal relationships characterized by alternating
between extremes of idealization and devaluation

3. identity disturbance: markedly and persistently unstable self-image or sense of self

4. impulsivity in at least two areas that are potentially self-damaging (e.g., spending, sex,
substance abuse, reckless driving, binge eating). Note: Do not include suicidal or self-mutilating
behavior covered in Criterion 5.

5. recurrent suicidal behavior, gestures, or threats, or self-mutilating behavior

6. affective instability due to a marked reactivity of mood (e.g., intense episodic dysphoria,
irritability, or anxiety usually lasting a few hours and only rarely more than a few days)

7. chronic feelings of emptiness

8. inappropriate, intense anger or difficulty controlling anger (e.g., frequent displays of temper,
constant anger, recurrent physical fights)

9. transient, stress-related paranoid ideation or severe dissociative symptoms

Saturday, January 08, 2005
I can't believe it's over.

Buffy saved the world again.

well, actually it was Spike.
Tuesday, January 04, 2005
  here we are now, entertain us
Well, new year's came and went and I'm the same person I was, minus 4 teeth.
the holes are healing fine, but my jawbones ache something fierce, probably from my incessant tooth grinding. maybe when I go back to school I'll be able to go to the doctor and have them precribe muscle relaxers that I can inject into my face.

I got this letter from TennCare with a superfancy little rectangle of plastic that guarantees me free (that's right, FREE!!!!) prescriptions. ab-fab.

I've let the laundry situation get out of hand. I think I'm going to have to go to the laundromat tomorrow. after that I am going to do another wardrobe consolidation and banish half of it to ragland.

just one season left of Buffy. Willow went all evil and tried to end the world, Giles left and came back, Anya's a vengeance demon again, and Spike's got a soul again. eeesh. I'll be done just in time for school.

the achy upper gums and I are off to bed. toodles.
of you folks up in this mess

I'll lean on you sometimes.
Just to see if you're still there
These feet can't take the weight of one,
much less two, so we hit concrete.

How were we born into this mess?

Jawbreaker, "Kiss the Bottle"

07/01/2003 - 08/01/2003 / 08/01/2003 - 09/01/2003 / 09/01/2003 - 10/01/2003 / 10/01/2003 - 11/01/2003 / 12/01/2003 - 01/01/2004 / 01/01/2004 - 02/01/2004 / 02/01/2004 - 03/01/2004 / 03/01/2004 - 04/01/2004 / 04/01/2004 - 05/01/2004 / 05/01/2004 - 06/01/2004 / 06/01/2004 - 07/01/2004 / 07/01/2004 - 08/01/2004 / 08/01/2004 - 09/01/2004 / 09/01/2004 - 10/01/2004 / 10/01/2004 - 11/01/2004 / 11/01/2004 - 12/01/2004 / 12/01/2004 - 01/01/2005 / 01/01/2005 - 02/01/2005 / 02/01/2005 - 03/01/2005 / 03/01/2005 - 04/01/2005 / 04/01/2005 - 05/01/2005 / 05/01/2005 - 06/01/2005 / 06/01/2005 - 07/01/2005 / 07/01/2005 - 08/01/2005 / 08/01/2005 - 09/01/2005 / 09/01/2005 - 10/01/2005 / 04/01/2006 - 05/01/2006 / 09/01/2006 - 10/01/2006 /

why I am ashamed of my government

baghdad burning
changing face of iraq
free iraq!
iraq body count
iraq in pictures
today in iraq
Cost of the War in Iraq
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cherry blossom special
clearance bin: bent robots
margaret cho fucking rawks
exploding dog
neil gaiman
indy media: you see it, you write it, we read it
in your face
memphis scene
michael moore
the morning news
pulp faction
que sera sera
rachel and the city: memphis gossip
saturna: moms can be DJs too
teaching baby paranoia
this imploding heart
where we're bound
white ninja comics
wil wheaton
will you marry me, dave eggers?

ryan adams
cory branan
harlan t bobo
dixie dirt
the faint
the glass
godspeed you black emperor
damien jurado
will oldham
bruce springsteen
this bike is a pipe bomb
sigur ros
songs: ohia
tom waits
the yeah yeah yeahs

monkeys susan minot
of love and other demons gabriel garcia marquez
how we are hungry dave eggers
a true story based on lies jennifer clement
frida barbara mujica
confessions of an ugly stepsister gregory maguire
the amazing adventures of kavalier and clay michael chabon
taft ann patchett
drop city t c boyle
song of solomon toni morrison
strong motion jonathan franzen
a house for mr biswas v s naipaul
the last samurai helen dewitt
retrato en sepia isabel allende
the sun also rises ernest hemingway. ernest goddamn hemingway
de todo lo visible y lo invisible lucia etxebarria
bastard out of carolina dorothy allison
light can be both wave and particle ellen gilchrist
the last report on the miracles at little no horse louise erdrich
the onion girl charles delint
oblivion david foster wallace
underworld don delillo
for hearing people only:answers to the most commonly asked questions about the deaf community matthew moore
dress your family in corduroy and denim david sedaris
the feast of love charles baxter
an unquiet mind kay jamison
the adventures of huckleberry finn
the adventures of tom sawyer mark twain
middlesex jeffrey eugenides
interpreter of maladies jhumpa lahiri
american psycho bret easton ellis
how to be good nick hornby
as i lay dying william faulkner
the book of joe jonathan tropper
portrait of a romantic steven millhauser
tiny giants nate powell
how to be alone jonathan franzen
diablo guardiƔn xavier velasco
white teeth zadie smith
candy mian mian
vivir para contarla gabriel garcia marquez
raise high the roof beam, carpenters & seymour: an introduction j d salinger
girl in landscape jonathan lethem
in the penny arcade steven millhauser
amnesia moon jonathan lethem
motherless brooklyn jonathan lethem
a plague of dreamers steve stern
franny and zooey j.d. salinger
lies and the lying liars who tell them al franken
sick puppy carl hiaasen
Don Quixote Miguel de Cervantes, trans. Edith Grossman
Travesti: sex, gender and culture among Brazilian transgendered prostitutes
Don Kulick

Talk: a novel in dialogue Corey Mesler
Thirteen Stories and Thirteen Epitaphs William T. Vollmann
The Once and Future King T.H. White

black lodge video
burke's books
decleyre housing coooperative
hi tone cafe
live from memphis
digital media co-op
memphis flyer
metal museum
midtown food co-op
miz ellen's soul food
p & h cafe

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