the write actor

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Location: Dallas, Texas

oh, I'm still making art in the urban forest

Monday, March 27, 2006

God Spake To Pam

and He said, Do not Buyeth that Casio Camera tonight.
Yea, even though you workethed your butt off all weekend
re-sanding and varnishing your desk,
mowing the lawn and steam cleaning the upholstery,
did you not think the Blue Bell was sufficient reward?
Listen up Pam, ye shall learn a lesson from Me.

Do not think that just because you made a "great catch" at work today and
Your boss and your boss's boss and
your boss's boss's boss all said, in electronic verse:
Pam, You rocketh, You are an awesome editor.
Do not think that just because you do a great audition
for the anime movie and the director says,
Pam, You are so good, that was an EXcellent read!

Do not, I say unto you, get cocky.

For you will be driving along, driving along and suddenly become confused
And think, Oh my God (yes, I'm listening) am I 'LOSING TIME?"
.....am I "GETTING ALZHEIMERS?"
How did I get back home so quickly?
Because you will not be home.
You will look at the skyline and think, hmmm those buildings looketh funny.
You will be most of the way to Fort Worth
You were wistfully dreaming of taking pictures like Lori Witzel
and posting them to your blog
And you WEREN'T PAYING ATTENTION.

But that, o' menopausal Goddess, is just the beginning.
When you drive through the bank to cash the check from the conservative think tank
so you can just give MONEY to Circuit City,
for the camera you covet,
so the Republicans can,
before they pay for your face lift,
pay for your cool skinny little light weight camera,
You will discover you've left your wallet at home.
because you WEREN'T PAYING ATTENTION.

So you will turn East on I-30 near Belknap and now the games begin.
Cheryl and her daughter are coming in tomorrow afternoon.
The Republicans have offered you yet more work tonight.
You can edit a piece on windfall profit taxes. A piece on health care.
Make some more money.
Or should you buy favorite foods for 12-year olds?
Or should you get the little chain at Home Depot to make the toilet flush right?
Or should you get the camera!?

Thinketh, Pam. Thinketh.
Lo, but you challenge Me and decide you will go home
and find your wallet and go to Circuit City.

So still I must teach you.
You drive home, enter house at dusk, dogs bouncing, cats leaping,
love all around.
But there is a sound. Shhhhhhhhhhhh. Shhhhhhhhh.
Is it gas escaping?
You look in every direction. There are no lights on. Just the sound.
Shhhhhhhhhhh.
No odor.
If you turn on a light, will the house explode?
You go to the farthest end of the house, crouch, flip a switch, and
yes, the lights work!
You creep ever closer to the sound and discover:
the plug on the water heater has blown off and
water is spewing all over your office floor.

It is not deep. But it is everywhere.
I tried to tell you about the Blue Bell,
....and all the compliments....
But nay, you would not listen.

You think if you cover up the office floor with all the towels and throw rugs and even a flannel sheet,
That it will not still be there WHEN YOU GET BACK?

So you head out for Circuit City, a 20 minute ride south.
Did I, speaking in the Omnipotent Voice,
not tell your Fingers to Doeth The Walking?
And aieeee, the Circuit City logo is whitewashed,
Soon to be a K&B. Or K&G.
Some red and black rip off clothing store.

But your son, thankfully, is in the SMU Law library.
What, Mom? He whispers....
Are you in the LIbrary?
Yes, I'm studying.
Can you look something up for me
so I don't have to give Cingular Information $1.50?
What is it Mom, I can't hear you.
You're in the car, I'm in the library, you don't have to whisper.
Is there a Circuit City in Cedar Hill?
I'm already so fucking far south I might as well keep going.
Okay, just a sec.
We get disconnected.
I call back.
Mom? Shhhhhh. Yes, there's one on 67.
Thanks, I love you you're my favorite.
Oh yeah? You just bought my sister a video iPod for graduation
and now you're buying a camera
and I'm a starving law student, and I'M your favorite?
Can we talk about this later? You study.
Right, ma, I love you too, bye.
(Note to self: lawyers, even sons, cannot save you)

You drive ever farther south. Walk in the Circuit City.
Approach the camera section.
You are woman with credit card, research accomplished,
Plan in mind, money to spend.
No one appears to be working tonight.

Do you not getteth that this is a CLUE?
You seek out, o foolish woman, a young dusky skinned man with red shirt.
You subconsiously register that he looks Indian,
Therefore he must know about cameras.
And realize they made the movie Crash for people just like YOU.

Together you seek the Casio camera you covet.
But the model numbers and prices are different from the Web.
What happened to $264? Now it's $299?
Or is that this OTHER model that's on clearance.

But, you argue, I thought if it's available on the web it's available in the store.
Uhm, ma'm, let's just look.
Model X - not available in stores, web-only special, out of stock in store, out of stock online.
Model Y - available in stores, (except THIS one that you just drove halfway to Waco to reach),
$50 more than you budgeted.
Model Z - didn't exist until you got here.
Model XYZ - special one time only clearance, lower than humanly possible, must buy tonight or this deal is done forever.

You depart, realizing that the "Circuit City Super Sale" ends tonight,
and you have only wet towels to show for it.
There is however, a Super Target next door. You've never been in a Super Target.
So you buy junk food for 12 year olds and learn that Super Target is kind of a....
....welll..... a white man's Wal-Mart.

that's disgusting, but it's true, isn't it?
It's this gigantic market laid out exactly like wal-mart
only....nicer.

I came home. Started pulling out clothes from the washer.....
The cats knocked over a bottle of Bleach that must not have been sealed,
as that brand new brown sweater my daughter made me buy from the Gap
has two big white blotches on it.

Your writers group topic for this month was "LESSONS"
But you just couldn't get inspired to write, now could you, Pam?
Lesson learned?

Well, God, here's how I feel about it:
So sue me if the possessives, tenses and voice are inconsistent.

I am not buying a Casio camera tonight.
I am having a glass or two of cabernet,
editing for the think tank and watching Murderball.

Friday, March 24, 2006

I Love Texas Weather

.....and how it changes and how every year we talk about how weird it is THIS year....but it's so GREAT, you know? I've had whole relationships fall apart over weather. It's too hot, it's too cold, it's too humid, it's too dry, it rains too much, it doesn't rain enough. Texas this, Texas that. OHHHH, but Nevada is so THIS, New Mexico is so THAT. When my last boyfriend departed this time last year I wanted to say, Hey, if you hate it that much here, quitcher bitchin and MOVE. You want sun and 75 degrees ALL the time? Move to Southern California and shut up. But I didn't cause I'm no good at confrontation.

I love Texas weather. I love it that this mid-February we hit a couple 90 degree days, but last February 14 it snowed several inches. I love it that last night's 30 degreees was a record low for a late March night. I didn't exactly appreciate the drought or the wildfires but I loved the 9-inch rains last weekend. I don't know if it's God or global warming or just Texas. I love the shifts, the differences, the surprises, that this year there was no winter until this week, that last year it got too hot too early and we got lousy tomatoes.

It was so cold last night, I coughed and sniffed, hugged the dogs to stay warm. I hurried to light the Dearborns early this morning, then had to back up the alley, having forgotten to turn them off before I drove away. For all I know I'll have to blow out the air conditioner filter tomorrow.

I love Texas. I love Texas weather. I'm in a metabopausal mood. I refuse to listen to anti-weather, anti-mexican, anti-Texas talk. I am slightly ballistic. Tomorrow I'm setting tomatoes and basil and fighting termites. Just don't EVEN fuck with me. There's so little I can hold onto in this world. My kids, when they're not too busy growing up and having their own lives. My dogs, all the time. And the inevitability of changing Texas weather. This I can count on.

Thursday, March 02, 2006

Something I Wrote Two Years Ago

When is it love and when is it great sex?
When is it great sex and when is it need?
When is it need and when is it neediness?
When is it neediness and when is it companionship?
When is it companionship and when is it commonality?
When is it commonality and when is it fun?
When is it fun and when is it comfort?
When is it comfort and when is it settling?
When is it settling and when is it reality?
When is it reality and when does it just relax into
What it is….
….which is maybe all of the above.
When does all of that doubt become okay?
When do those questions become silly?
When does a relationship, with all its complications and problems, become fulfilling?
When is it the rest of your life and you know it, no matter what?

Maybe it’s when you’re willing to take the when is it love and when is it great sex and all the above
….and take the risk, no matter what.
Maybe it’s a bus ride,
maybe it’s a roller coaster,
maybe it’s a day at the lake,
maybe it’s the rest of your life.

Wednesday, March 01, 2006

The Night Of The First Cricket

March 1................

and records set all all over the place...It hit 92 today or something absurd. Tonight I was going to write about this blogging thing and how I feel so intimidated, surrounded as I am by so much creativity (maybe just because the ones I link to seem so fabulous).....or

Then I was going to write about finally experiencing mood swings, crying in the Fedex office, when the YMCA accounts lady was so nice - ongoing pissy middle aged hormonal woman bullshit....

Then out of nowhere this little guy started chirping outside, struggling, not quite there, but real, real chirping, real cricket, enough to make me stop and listen and feel all nurtury again. Just one little lone early cricket....the big boys sent him out on a reconnaissance mission and he felt the urge, he just couldn't help it: chhhhhuuuuurrrrrrpppppp ppp ppp?? ppp?

....like my teenage pregnant platies....they're too young, it's not time, but here they are, stuck in swimming in their now, victims of their environment.

Little baby chirping crickets. A sound we in the south know so well. A kind of timpani, lower than it will be in three months....some little teenage cricket who doesn't really know what he's doing yet. So his little back legs rub rub rub togther and they don't quite know how to do it quite right.

But he makes the noise. All by himself. So brave. And he sounds like spring.