Database paths
Wednesday November 29th 2017, 2:47 pm
Filed under: Miscellaneous, Truly,Rubbish Tags:

Really? That’s what I have to spend my time on? When GoDaddy changes (without any warning) the path to the database? Glad I finished reading other people’s job applications (there but for the grace of god, etc.) before I spent time fiddling with that.

Old dogs, dead dogs, farting dogs. And a comment from a dead friend celebrating 20 weeks of pregnancy. Literally and figuratively lifetimes ago.



malware and memorials
Saturday September 30th 2017, 10:31 pm
Filed under: Berkeley,calendars,exit,fall,memory,Miscellaneous, Truly,reminiscence Tags:

How the frack did that happen? Most annoying. An email with a list of PHP files that needed to be deleted. I doubt I’ve successfully cleaned it by hand. Changed the WordPress password, the FTP passwords, deleted all but one of the files (permissions issues, but renamed it) so we’ll see. Be a shame if TPT had to be wiped.

Not at the memorial in Berkeley today. Couldn’t face it, emotionally or practically speaking. Last time I was there they treated me like shit. Up to the Christmas Eve “do you think you could revise the whole thing beginning to end for next Tuesday” ending. Also made complicated by all of the animus that “she hates me because I’m younger, prettier, and smarter” used to bear to her. Who the fuck knows. Other people’s insecurities are unfathomable, sometimes.

So I raise a glass to yet another dead friend, teacher. Since the upgrade to iOS 11 my phone keeps reminding me several times a day that I have an un-listened-to voicemail from Helen. I know it’s there. If I wanted to listen to it, I would have by now. But thanks for the ghost-in-the-machine nudges, 2+ years later.

Apparently they closed the Bear’s Lair, where you could buy a fucking quart of beer on campus. And those glorious wood desks from Wheeler Hall offices are piled on the steps, to be destroyed. Relics of an age where big desks meant big dicks, they were gorgeous. Possible too big to remove from the offices without some additional demo. I wish I’d known – I would have rented a uhaul and rescued one. Over a quart of beer.



Stress, and grief

She said, to answer my question what points she was working on. Also, where your spine meets your ribs, so, a major parenting spot. Not really an empty center. And her “hot hands” (shared, apparently, by her 11 year old daughter but not her 11 year old son) healing. And also disturbing, working through old and newer ambitions and desires, aspirations and intentions. A Greek meander left to right, hyper rational and logical, and all I am, a Celtic knot, mystical and magical and all I’m not very good at being and have, frankly, neglected. And a not very empty center.



Finishing the bottle
Friday March 17th 2017, 12:09 am
Filed under: Boozy,HelLA,Miscellaneous, Truly Tags:

Which I meant to do, though the size of the full glass is more than I’d imagined/intended. So to justify it, I’m going to write, instead of read, create instead of consume, bloviate rather than ???. I’ve got 99 problems but an empty glass ain’t one. I sit here, he says, repeating a version of a phrase that started every journal I’ve ever handwritten. Which would be hard to know, given that the 93-98 journals, however many volumes that was, got lost in the mail when I moved to Oxenford. I persisted, like Senator Warren, but it never really stuck again after those magical quadrilingual (Eng, Latin, Greek, Russian) years of Peak Pretension ™ disappeared off the back of a boat. Today’s former student worried that she’s only written a single poem this calendar year despite her practice praxis since age 12 of non-stop writing. Hooray, I thought to myself, your juvenalia are coming to an end.

Bowl season almost upon us again. HelLA summer in a pleasant fishbowl, complete with incense-burning tenor guy. I almost felt guilty seeing Herbie Hancock at Disney Hall, wanting to explain to him the props he gets at the other venue. But he probably knows. He probably is a friend to us all. Though YCT’s friend’s friend, whose husband is apparently a misogynistic jazz pianist, given some shit he quoted Robert Glasper saying, who (YCT-friend)when she followed up sitting at a pool (on a cruise) with Terrence Blanchard and someone else, confirmed that I’ve lost control of this sentence, let alone this paragraph, angrily asserted the misogyny of the US boxing press crediential people so cogently one had to agree. Keeping up? Me neither.



Fuck this shit
Saturday February 11th 2017, 12:23 am
Filed under: Miscellaneous, Truly Tags:

Resist. Maybe repent. Possibly resent. Or re-indent. Re-invent? Regret? Reset. Re-let. Relate. Reinvigorate. Renew.



Tireder
Wednesday October 26th 2016, 9:58 pm
Filed under: Miscellaneous, Truly,tired Tags:

It’s not a word. It’s just the truth. Who knew things could bring more tired into the world. I read after a meh day, where being prepared seemed to make everything less convincing. Which is discouraging. But so it goes. Meh. Tired.



What matters most
Wednesday September 21st 2016, 12:07 am
Filed under: Miscellaneous, Truly Tags:

What matters most is how well you walk through the fire.

Maybe those things that once seemed deep,and then seemed to be childish things, are returning, newly or differently profound.



Sounds better
Monday August 22nd 2016, 11:05 pm
Filed under: Boozy,Miscellaneous, Truly,Music Tags:

The old music, it sounds better, she said. I was unconvinced. But this evening, I’m reminded that I should listen to Mozart’s requiem more often. That this recording, however questionable of quality, has left its marks on my soul over 20 plus years.

Yo Yo Ma and the Silk Road ensemble last night. A Galician bagpiper soloing to When Doves Cry. As you do. The Bowl makes summer summer. Call me sissy. Or promisisti.



June?
Wednesday June 01st 2016, 9:51 am
Filed under: Miscellaneous, Truly Tags:

And I missed May entirely? How is that even possible?

Fuck.



Well, shit
Friday April 15th 2016, 11:16 pm
Filed under: Miscellaneous, Truly Tags:

Or something. The wind is nice.