Prisstopolis

Pepe's cousin

2009-07-01T19:59:42Z

Close encounter with a skunk this morning. I was exploring a cul de sac and Sophie-Pup took an insistent run at a small cedar. Under it was a small, wide-tailed black and white creature. I'm positive that it wasn't a cat, because the Sophster regards cats neither as rivals as she does other dogs, nor as food as she does thrushes, ravens, and squirrels. We got surprisingly close, but fortunately the leash ran out before she could touch it.

All parties left the scene in as sweet-smelling a state as they entered it.

Whew.

Yo-yo, walking the dog

2009-06-26T19:16:02Z

A pug beagle mix is the newest adventure in my life. After a few May and June mini-hikes on weekends, I wanted to add more exercise the rest of the week. Tuesday night, Maddy's boyfriend Jiff came over. I fed the two teens hot dogs, and we watched "Notting Hill", a bland romantic comedy. Jiff's mom has a dog that doesn't get to go for walks very often, and suddenly, despite my complete inexperience with canines, I felt an inspiration: I could walk Hilda's dog!

Hilda was surprised that i wanted to, and was happy to have it done, yet irritated that it would involve answering the door early in the morning. I took Jiff along in case I needed a technical consult, and my daughter Maddy accompanied us to make sure that we didn't talk about her. (As if the two people who know her best could have anything more to discover.)

When we arrived, Hilda didn't clip the leash on all of the way, and Sophie-Pup escaped between our legs and out of the front door. Jiff raced after her, but he slipped and skinned his arm on the driveway, allowing her a head start that took three blocks to overcome. Maddy and I met him halfway as he was carrying her back, and he clipped the leash on, then handed her over to me. We walked a scant mile, and it all went well, despite her almost constant muscular pulling and testing. A very short length seemed to work best, with occasional pauses to calm down before continuing. -- Maddy was horrified by the pooper scooping obligation.

Thursday and Friday I tackled it on my own. Walked farther, and faster, and talked to other ladies with pooches in the park. Today I got to see duckings, and a graceful blue heron. Sohie-Pup wanted to swim out to them, but I didn't allow it.

Orgone Energy

2009-06-24T19:29:42Z

Last weekend I went on a jaunt to Central Point Oregon. My daughter would insist on calling it a "road trip". She perceives neither the redundancy nor the hippie, sixties --as opposed to a drug "trip"-- implications of that bit of folksiness.

For the last month the buzz from my fellow Healthfoodians had been

Or-e-gon, oregon

and

Ya goin'?

My response had been: Ashland is far away, and camping implies mosquitos. I hadn't even considered the olfactory implications of porta-potty perdition. As the date grew closer, my buddy Dianne offered me a ride, and said that she already had a room reserved; a room, not camping. It all started to sound a little better. D's husband had been planning to go, but he's not manically obsessed with all that is raw and vegan and counting coconuts one by one, so he was thrilled to stay at home and not need to hire babysitters for their pets as long as D had company on the drive.

I swam in the mornings and then went to lectures about coconuts and raw pastry-making. There was a film about conscious birth and conception, and a workshop on growing your own oyster mushrooms. There were a couple of two-hour talks by David Wolf. Both times the schedule keeper eventually cut him off. He still had more to say. I met a few people from my online world, and, as most of you will probably know from your own experiences: they walk and talk EXACTLY the way that they type. It was a meeting of big personalities, where everyone had a chance to strut their stuff as celebrities of varying degree.

Mushroom cultivation overlapped with RawFu in the schedule, so I walked in after Fu started. "Oh My God, it's Bunny Berry!" "OMG, it's Priss!" Trooper Bunny handled my interruption with grace, and got back to her focus on self-acceptance and smoothies, even if you live in the deep-fried South.

Of course I took pictures.

Rock formation near Medford OR.

Local flora

With my roommate Dianne

David Wolf and I are like this.

OMG, Bunny Berry irl.

Sexy Exhibitionist Guys at the Reggae Concert

2009-05-27T23:06:57Z

Bob Marley on his shoulder?

Perma-Stickers!

Nice smile, wanna dance?

Contents Unknown

2009-05-17T18:25:46Z

What WAS the true nature of the schmutz ornamenting my bedroom window?

Bird excrement? Unlikely. It originated on a cold night in a vicious thunderstorm. What kind of a birdbrain would go out in that kind of weather? If someone tells you: "The dyspepsic bird flies at night." They are probably testing to see if you give the countersign. You know, because you are their spy versus spy contact. I suggest turning tail and skipping away unless you are willing to accept the plans to the doomsday device and ferry them to the next cell in the chain.

In addition to the rain and the lightning, I could hear the upstairs neighbors shuffling around, while they are usually comatose.

Now, turning to the actual substance which was yellow-brown, waxy, hard to scrape off, and smelled disgusting-

A day sunny enough to take the screen off and clean the outside of the window is what brought on my encounter with unpleasant organic matter-

Vinegar and detergent and a nylon sponge, and a plastic straight-edge were employed to ultimately successfully remove-

What looks to be upstairs condo vomit.

Mother's Day, Mother's Day

2009-05-12T01:56:28Z

A Spiderman kite, a Batman kite, and some very exotic flora and fauna. All pictures from the past weekend.

Kite-flying with Maddy.

Smiley, Zbig, and Mad find that twine is not tautological.

Museum of glass Seaforms.

Kelp seaforms on the beach.

OMG, A SERPENT!

Another Chihuly creation.

And a real poppy, innocently blooming in a front yard garden.

Space, the year 2009

2009-05-09T14:24:34Z

"I have extensive aural sensitivities."

That's what Uhura said as a bid to move to flagship crew from entry-level raw cadet. "Raw" in the sense of being new and untested. It is rare for a Starfleet officers to experience trial by fire. The Trek movie opened yesterday. It was all over the region, but I had to see it in Gig Harbor. Smiley drove, (Oh yes, there is a guy friend in my life now, who shall be known here in the Prissiverse as "Smiley")

Trek was better than I could have imagined. As a science fiction fan, I look for things that don't seem important to most movie-makers. Things like:

An actual plotline!

Characters that you can tell apart from each other!

Ridiculous accents!

This had it all. Plus the above-quoted double-entendre. There were also: a bar fight - for you guy on guy action fans, absolutely insane space images, incredible opening credits, and the now-obligatory trudging through the snow on an Alaskan planet, that SF dramatizations generally succumb to. By the end of the 2 hours and 7 minutes, I felt accepting of the new cast. It was great to see Nimoy back too. I missed Shatner. He would have been ideal for the ending voice-over.

Alternate Identity

2009-04-20T16:35:42Z

According to this video, I am a French teenager (or two French teenagers,) with record pantomime experience.

New Pic with Zbig

2009-03-21T00:52:40Z

The elder offspring showed up for a visit!

Crocusoidal Maniac

2009-02-22T20:23:05Z

Rahm bahm thank you mahm

2009-02-11T21:24:39Z

I found this current editorial by the aged Fidel Castro courtesy of the Huffington Post. It fascinates me that he mentions Immanuel Kant, because I am currently reading "Writings on an Ethical Life" by Peter Singer. Singer adores Kant, but notes with stunned amazement that Kant was a believing Christian. The implication I derive, is that in Singer-world, heavy-hitters of philosophy should really be Atheist or Jewish. I tend to concur.

Getting back to the Castro article, it is literate, it is surreal, it is nonsensical. Yet it has a certain coherence. If Fidel hadn't been a Communist dictator, he could have been a Talmudist, or maybe a Depak Chopra style guru of everything. I am finding myself firmly in the Barbara Walters camp: Castro is a lot of fun.

Fidel calls his titular topic, Rahm Emanuel, "brilliant", and wants to stir up excitement because Emanuel was a warrior in a real war. Also, his mother has been a political activist. Why this is just like someone with a similar name, someone who has a revolutionary, vice president mother, a character in a book by a Cuban ambassador! Castro longs for charismatic, energetic leaders to emerge. Maybe an American, maybe someone with a vaguely hispanic surname. . . .

Dategirl and her readers of assorted gender just want to make out with Rahmmy-baby. Apparently they aren't the only ones.

Writer's Block: Conchordance

2009-02-06T14:39:15Z

Who is cuter: Bret or Jemaine?

View other answers

Bret, Bret all the way. He's also better at carrying a tune, and can play the guitar better. He may even have perfect pitch. That said, neither of the Conchordians is especially cute. Jermaine looks (and dresses!) like Mike Meyers in his Austin Powers role. I do love their act though.

Skirmish in the war to preserve roof integrity

2009-02-03T02:16:01Z

Today I saw a squirrel skip merrily up the trunk of a Western Cedar. The tree had been outfitted with an aluminum collar. A two-foot wide swath of metal, lined with plastic, it had been placed there to prevent the fluffy-tailed rodents from climbing the trees, and then gaining access to the roof. The next counter-offensive may have to be the removal of all trees within squirrel-jumping distance of the building.

As it bounded over the useless defense mechanism, I could almost hear a victorious cry in the squirrel tongue:

I laugh at your anti squirrel technology!
All of your hazelnuts shall be mine.
Ta-ta, until we meet again.

Beware the non-dairy art of self defense

2009-01-28T21:38:12Z

Some virus-infected rawfoodian must have breathed on me last weekend. The sneezing masqueraded as an allergic reaction to the plague of pet cats and dogs, but it was soon followed by a sore throat, and an all-over achiness swiftly ensued. I'm on the mend now. I'm still sniffling like crazy, but the every bone in my body hurts like crazy is diminishing by the hour. If anyone were to give me any trouble, my Kraft-Margerina skills would kick in unbidden, and the assailant would suffer instant flattenization.

More from Jan 20, 2009

2009-01-27T03:07:56Z

Hallelujah

2009-01-24T15:26:09Z

Last night I went to a performance by a gospel music group. The most cynical definition of music is to regard it as a form of hypnosis. Religious belief and practice too, could be looked at as means of regulating crowd behavior, using the powerful tools of creeds, repetition, rhythm, behavior modeling, using up all of your waking moments . . .

These guys rocked!

I'm feeling some fusion inspiration. This can only lead to more lyrics.

LOL Luminati

2009-01-21T00:20:04Z

I was asked if I could get here at 5 PM, so I got here at 4. Using public transportation got me to the street entrance a mile away from the banquet hall. One of the Looms kindly gave me a ride up the hill, but he was shocked when I told him the event I was here to attend is a party for President Obama.

"They're having THAT here?"
"Yes, they rented the clubhouse."

The thought that Democratic money spends just like any other kind, calmed the club-weilder, and he pointed out the entrance to the building.

Woo, the souvenir table isn't even set up yet, and someone already bought two custom-etched commemorative wineglasses.

Four-armed is an Indian Temple Sculpture

2009-01-20T12:21:22Z

Two white grapefruits whirled in the blender, plus a quart of water went into a half-gallon jug that used to hold honey. Along with pears, an orange, celery sticks, and green tea bags, it is being packed along to protect me from any coffee and doughnut temptations during today's inaugural festivities. Sweater and jeans and Doc Martens for the AM, tank top and velvet skirt and Mary Janes for the PM. Look for me behind the laptop bearing the sticker " My other computer is a Cray."

That was the weekend that was

2009-01-19T03:21:44Z

I'm listening to Allison Crowe youtube videos. They are suiting my gloomy mood perfectly. OMG it's winter depression! Yesterday morning had some stuff happen that shouldn't have upset me, but it did. Then I went to Sephora, a store that is new to Seattle. You can't cry while you are trying on eye makeup. That worked for around an hour. In the evening, I went to see some Celtic performers at a coffee shop. The lead singer reminded me of Pete Seeger. What a cool place. Not too far away and the wi-fi works. Now if only I could find something that I like on the menu, I could make it a regular hang-out without feeling guilty about taking up a table after only ordering a cup of tea.

The gloominess is back today, but at least without the teariness.

I wrote a little rhyme in the cbpotts comments. Check it out!

Edited to add it here too:

Ninepins gone wild

Family ties, team loyalty
And chocolate cake conflate
A crucible where self-control
Was not left on the plate

From this we learn some guys are nuts
John's mom learned it too late
When kith and kin don't measure up
Try not to be irate

Blunt objects and custom shoes
Tend to incriminate
And most of all, above all else
Do not a bowler date!

</lj>

My carrot juice brings all the boys to the yard

2009-01-11T06:56:10Z

Henry VIII on Ecstasy (LITTLE HOUSE ON THE PRAIRIE IN OUTER SPACE Episode 2)

2008-12-31T04:31:22Z

Today on LITTLE HOUSE ON THE PRAIRIE IN OUTER SPACE, Tom Lehrer guest stars as Henry the Eighth. As the new girl in town, Captain Laura is targeted to be his seventh wife, the first six having mysteriously perished. Tom reprises the "Silent E" song that he wrote for the Electric Company.

what can turn a nil into a nile
and turn mil into a mile
and do it all with style
and never appear vile
the grandiosity of silent e

tie-dye with rit
wear it to a rite
do zazen sit
post it on your site (that's right!)
all cybernetically with silent e

it's not that far
so compare your fare
go by car
or maybe by air (if you dare)

if you care how
you travel to there
there's informa
tion that you can share
take my dare and do your hair with silent e

some guys are fat
it may be their fate
try lifting weights, work out your lats -and don't be late
could a guy like dat (Henry VIII)
ever get a date?
sometimes even a mat, can have a mate!

they met at a bar
and soon they were bare
by a a horse-shaped crater
called the mar of mare
and then she escaped
to her prairie lair
more adventures were awaiting way out there

i kitty kat, plz to call me "kate"
hijacked this song, you'll just have to wait.
i'm in your parody
explorin' don't ya see
seekret felinity of silent e

lets have a spat, or maybe a spate
of cheeze burgers
and go roller skate
so many choices what goes on your plate
the cat in the hat's hat, like it or hate? (take my survey!)

Every Planet Comes to Prissville

2008-12-17T05:16:59Z

Dat's da name of dat tune

2008-12-15T07:50:28Z

What do you do when you can't remember the name of a of a song, or the lyrics, or even very much of the tune? Why you ask your livejournal friends!

This song is probably late 1970s, although it could easily be 1980s. It's a mopey ballad recalling how great it used to be to listen to the music of the past. It's a little bit like "Hey Nineteen" with its ludicrously under-the-bottom line about "sweet beans in Boston," as if beans will never again satisfy a sugar craving the way they used to, and alas, I'm never in Boston anymore, and Denver, L.A., and Tennessee no longer entreat me to come hither as they used to in the days of Auld Lang Syne. No, it's none of those songs.

It's an elegy that winks coyly at the listener. It uses first names of artists, and not quite quotes. You, the song, and an elite cadre of people who flipped the switch on the dial of an oldies radio station, or played a 100 hits that aren't disco compilation, are the recipients of the message. You know what is meant by:

Jimmy told us where to stand -

or whatever the actual lyric is.

I may sound scornful. There is much to criticize here. The languid style and the name-dropping are both undesirable qualities. Yet obviously, there is something that I like about it too. So I'm asking you, the lively livejournal popular music experts,

What song do I have in mind?

Donny Joel Prissment

2008-11-29T22:12:34Z

Choose a letter "A" through "D"
If you like, choose two, or three
Comment back so all can see
Your choice of etymology

The word "Don" or "don"

A. Should be used only as a proper name, or as a nickname for "Donald".

B. Works well as a latinate title for the godfather, and for that Don Quixote guy who tilts at windmills, and doubles gracefully as part of the name of Mr Rogers' donkey puppet who was named after the windmill aficionado..

C. Is a grudgingly tolerated archaism in a song about "gay apparel" but should never see the night of day, nor the candlelight of night otherwise.

D. Is your favorite word and you screech it repeatedly every morning as you costume yourself for public appearances:

I'm donning my socks!
I'm donning my shoes!
I'm donning my false eyelashes!
And so on, until your desired raiment has been fully applied.

And you also helpfully remind your family and friends:
Honey, don your jacket. It's cold out there!

And you are writing a screenplay called "The Donners of Donlington" which is about customers of the haute couture fashion industry as they stand in line for for fashion shows, and go back to the studio for second and third fittings, and most of all, scramble to rake in the dinero, (or in this case the "donero") to afford such cheddar-slicing-edge attire. There's a climax as various characters get dressed for the ball. (What am I saying? I mean: as they DON their new DUDS.) And an epilogue over the credits as they sally forth in cars and carriages, then alight upon red carpets and dance the night away. If it sells, you are hoping to have Robin Leach, or Ross the Intern as narrator.

Thoughts on the New Star Trek Trailers

2008-11-23T02:23:02Z

Simpering Kirk doesn't really work

but

Three times the Spock is going to rock!

Both new Spocks are amazingly off the scale better than I would have thought possible. I feel seized by a desire to hang out with them and watch them eat macaroni and cheese.

I'm a spockie from way back. Unfamiliar with the term "spockie"? It describes eleven year old girls who fall in love Spock. Not the actor, the character. It was summer. The original Star Trek was on TV every day in syndicated re-runs. I hadn't yet seen any of the western dramas that used similar music scores and many of the same actors, so the show seemed unique, complete. Space the way it was meant to be.

I still like some of the episodes. "Arena", the one where Kirk battles a lizard captain on a lonely desert planet, that will always be good, but "A Piece of the Action" was hilarious even the first time I saw it. Clearly a case of: let's wander around the costume warehouse and see if anything looks good today.

Here's the action with snappier music.

.