I promise this is the last time . . .

Yeah, I know how dorky and annoying these linked haiku are probably getting, so I promise this is it. We'll move on to limericks. Anyway, it's mostly just a way to see how everyone's doing and catch up on how Thanksgiving went for alla yuz. Yes, I went to Jersey; yes, I got my accent back and talked really loud and really fast. That's the influence of the native linguistic sphere, as I like to call it.

Whatevah, here goes:

Thanksgiving Haiku

When we all say grace
Aunt Grace always choking up
That's how real love is

Family so crazy!
Yet I wouldn't trade them in for
All the gold on earth

Pre Thanksgiving Haiku

Where I'm gonna go
They have guys who pump your gas
That's my Jersey Pride

No distinction, signs
have town names on both sides there,
entering, leaving

the best thing i think
is to have someone else cook
the turkey for you

Home for Thanksgiving
Time with my weird relatives
I don't like the turkey.

New York Holiday
Will be better than last years,
Thankful for Nicky

Pre Thanksgiving Haiku, Anyone?

I know it's cheesy, but I don't care.

Pre Thanksgiving Haiku

Where I'm gonna go
They have guys who pump your gas
That's my Jersey Pride

No distinction,signs
have town names on both sides there,
entering, leaving

We're Brilliant

Winter Haiku

Scrape, brush, shovel,nouns
made verbs for winter again
dare I say blanket?

sun low through bare trees
crows fly in lines and clusters
late november air

all those leaves i did
not rake and hail the size of
astronaut ice cream

forty degrees here
so there is no snow in sight
should start working now

No Snow on the ground
No bitter chill in the air
This, my new Winter

no winter here yet
balmy, delicious reprieve
indian summer

Winter Haiku

C'mon let's try it. I want three lines from each of you, and I mean it! Tomorrow I'll put it all together. What the heck else do you have to do, huh? Remember, it doesn't have to be good.

Five syllables
Seven syllables
Five syllables
I'll start

Winter Haiku

Scrape, brush, shovel,nouns
made verbs for winter again
dare I say blanket?

I Want It!

Let's assume I was brave enough to get a tattoo. Let's assume the words "inserting" and "under the skin" were not part of the process. What and where should my tattoo be? And while you're at it, why do you think I should get that particular tattoo in that particular location?

Here Are

five things I've come close to doing but have not done:

1) eating a Tim Horton's doughnut
2) driving a big rig (unless backing one up counts)
3) chopping off a finger (just the tip)
4) becoming a volunteer fire fighter
5) eating pizza in Utah

How about you?

Am I the Only One . . .

who puts on music and jumps around the house to it? I'd call it dancing (it used to be, I swear) but I think maybe one of my legs is now shorter than the other. Maybe it's pirate dancing. Well, if you're not dancing around the house you're missing out. Here are some suggestions in case you wanna try it:

Stars "Take Me to the Riot"
Belle and Sebastian "Dirty Dream Number Two"
Of Montreal "Suffer for Fashion"
The Dears "Lost in the Plot" (a little cool down there)
Of Montreal "Heimdalsgate Like a Promethean Curse" (we're taking it back up again)
The Talking Heads "Psycho Killer"
Matthew Sweet "Sick of Myself"
The Candyskins "Feed It"
Guided By Voices "Twilight Campfighter"
Creeper Lagoon "Sunfair"
Frank Black "Downtown Train"
Ballboy "I Hate Scotland"
Damien Jurado "Ohio" (cool down for reals)

Anybody wanna out dork me?

Neither Impulse Nor Ferocity

Yes, I have a favorite word, one that makes the hair on the back of my neck stand up just a little when I say it, one whose pronunciation makes my tongue happy to be part of the solution and not the problem. Here's what I'd like you to do on this chilly day in November. Take your favorite word and find out an alternate meaning for it. I wasn't too surprised to see that my beloved limbeck is a band, Indie, from Orange County. I hope they don't suck. Maybe we'll all find out that our favorite words are band names. Who knows?

Thirdly

Yeah, here's a big confession. I don't like it when newscasters say secondly and/or thirdly. What don't you like in print? What assaults your ears?

Next Halloween

This year I had no costume. So I'm going to start putting together next year's costume now. Once a month I'll put one item in a box and when next October 1st rolls around I'll open the box and put on my costume. Starting December 1st, here are the items that will go into the box:
12/01/08: man's size extra large t shirt; you choose the color
01/01/09: cardboard tube from Christmas wrap
02/01/09: a license plate, state of your choice
03/01/09: candidate campaign button, election and candidate of your choice
04/01/09: one canned food item, your choice
05/01/09: fish net stockings, color your choice
06/01/09: bowling shoes
07/01/09: hat, style your choice
08/01/09: aluminum foil
09/01/09: walkie talkie
10/01/09: one plaid item, your choice
What am I? Any idea?
Happy Sunday

Abandon Ship

My two year old furnace doesn't work and so I have no heat and no hot water. I'm going to get in my 11 year old car (the one with the check engine light on again) and drive my dog to the kennel. Then I'm going to stay at D's house and run me some hot water. Life in New York is rough sometimes.
Happy Weekend

Voting Nightmares

In no apparent order:
the knowledge that my presidential vote is canceled out by my ex husband
one or both of my children will vote Republican
someone I respect will say s/he voted for John McCain and I won't be able to keep
my mouth shut
I'll forget to pull the lever because we had ballot boxes in Idaho
I'll wake up tomorrow and have to start packing, only to find out that no other
country on earth will take in stupid Americans any more
But vote I shall, and you should too.
Happy Election Day

Relationships are complicated, unkay?

Maybe it's my current state of semi-coping with chronic pain, or maybe I've always been this way. Maybe, because my little world is still just that, it's gotten worse, but it was a trait I always had. Maybe it's the name? Yep, I'm talking about betrayal again and the culprit is he who has betrayed me before -- the Breadman.

First, last week's incident: I was on the phone with Aunt Grace, and she was rhapsodizing about how great it is that I make my own bread. In my family women have (objectively speaking) few domestic skills beyond overcooking by flame or water, with the exception of beef which is eaten almost raw. So to my female relatives, this bread baking thing is amazing, even though I use a machine to do it.

Anyway, back to the incident. Just as Aunt Grace got to the part where maybe I should bring the Breadman down to New Jersey at Thanksgiving, I looked through his domed top to see a loaf that had crashed in the middle. Betrayal? I think so.
Next was the loaf that looked like marble on the outside, crumbled a bit when removed from the machine, and I've just found out, is raw in the middle.

I hope these incidents are not related to my tendency to fetishize the Breadman as a sort of Al Green, Barry White, Petey Greene embodiment of male hubris, of fickleness, of a misogyny I'm endorsing by singing "Can't Get Enough of Your Love, Baby" as I measure ingredients. Such behavior seems a little racist even, but it's that damn name, I suppose. He da Breadman, after all.

The problem with all this is that now I want nothing more than to run the Breadman over with the car -- repeatedly. If I were still in Idaho I could take him out for target practice, but I sold my last gun five years ago before I moved to New York (Ruger .22 caliber for any gun fans out there. Yes, a semiautomatic, yes technically sort of an assault rifle, yes I know I'm in a peace group).

So I think it's time (and if you don't agree with me you're nuttier than I am) to take a step back, to sort of redefine the relationship. I'm not trying any more for now. Maybe since Catherine and Mikey are coming tomorrow, one of them would like to step in? Try to get the Bman to see that his days might be numbered if he doesn't . . . well I'm not even gonna finish that sentence.

Love hate appliance relationships. Anybody willing to describe yours? Yeah, maybe it'll make you sound like a nutjob, but at least I went first.

Happy Monday

P.S.: Breadman, if you read this post, I really didn't mean it honey. I was just venting.