Days go by. One after the other. Nothing special happens except life and you begin to expect the usual suspects.. in life. So you fo about your business and you make your daily plans. Go to the bank. Pick up a coffee. What should you have for lunch? Don't forget to do yur laundry. Etc.. etc..
It was raining today. Raining hard. I ran my errands and got my coffee. I came home in the interim to try and warm up and dry off. The next errand to run was for 10 cent embroidery floss. All the way downtown. I wasn't exactly motivated to go back out in the torrental rains so I wasted time.
The phone rang..
him: "Hey Jill, it's Todd. We're shooting a little thing right now and our stills photographer bailed. can you come down and shoot some stills for this indy thing?"
me: "Well, I don't promise anything, but sure, sounds like fun."
So, in a split second everyday life switched up and I ended up in a situation that I never expected to happen when I woke up. In the end, it happened to be 10 minutes from the place where my next errand was and by the time I was done, the rain had stopped too.
Saturday, November 4, 2006
Friday, November 3, 2006
traffic
Traffic on the internet speedway is on the go and more and more people seem to be taking the More Kisses Please turn off. This is good. I like this. I can attribute it entirely to my involvement with the National Blog Posting Month. I have gotten hits from a few site posting me as a link so in all fairness, I offer my viewers some choice links of bloggers bringing the world together..all chosen from the head office and randomly based on titles that caught my eye..
The NaBloPoMo Randomizer
A Smeddling Kiss
Big Girl Underoos
Cakeface
Jennyology
In fact I think I'll keep up the highway turnoff signs during NaBloPoMo. Go on an adventure, a internet road trip. Pack some comments, have fun, go look-see, and be one with the blog.
Thursday, November 2, 2006
my ball & chain
You may not know this. I don't post about it often or even really talk about it. It's like having a dirty little secret, something that as an adult, you think to yourself- why haven't I grown out of this? But whatever. You have these things and well, it just is was it is. And recently with a innocent little comment on a previous post and I had realized my commitment to my affliction had waned and I was HORRIFIED.
Horrified because my fasicnation is as strong as the day it started. Proof can be found in a day last month when I travelled to Seattle. I payed the $20 US entrance fee and went to the Experience Music Project. I spent awhile wandering around, politely looking at the exhibits, staving off my anticipation, waiting for a glimpse in the corner of my eye for a piece of pink feather to know it was there and then I would slowly take in the full view, enamored with every thrilling moment. Yes, the pink feather attached to a certain pink feather boa belonging to one and only, Janis Joplin.
Well I wandered around, and slowly began to feel duped. Stood up by a bad boyfriend. I asked a few staff, "where is the pink feather boa?" and was told "it's on the 3rd floor" "no I think it's on the walk of fame" "um, I'm not sure did you check the Jimi Hendrix exhibit?". I walked faster, determined to finally see it, the only reason I was really there. No luck. Finally I askked a staff member that was looking like an aging hippy. Surely he would know.
him: "Oh that. That's in storage."
me: "Great. Let's go to storage."
Anyway, today in my flu induced haze, I realized the wrong doing of my distracted life. A quick google search and I realized I had forgotten to pay tribute.
So.. A month late but not forgotten..
Janis Joplin passed away 36 years ago on October 4th.
Horrified because my fasicnation is as strong as the day it started. Proof can be found in a day last month when I travelled to Seattle. I payed the $20 US entrance fee and went to the Experience Music Project. I spent awhile wandering around, politely looking at the exhibits, staving off my anticipation, waiting for a glimpse in the corner of my eye for a piece of pink feather to know it was there and then I would slowly take in the full view, enamored with every thrilling moment. Yes, the pink feather attached to a certain pink feather boa belonging to one and only, Janis Joplin.
Well I wandered around, and slowly began to feel duped. Stood up by a bad boyfriend. I asked a few staff, "where is the pink feather boa?" and was told "it's on the 3rd floor" "no I think it's on the walk of fame" "um, I'm not sure did you check the Jimi Hendrix exhibit?". I walked faster, determined to finally see it, the only reason I was really there. No luck. Finally I askked a staff member that was looking like an aging hippy. Surely he would know.
him: "Oh that. That's in storage."
me: "Great. Let's go to storage."
Anyway, today in my flu induced haze, I realized the wrong doing of my distracted life. A quick google search and I realized I had forgotten to pay tribute.
So.. A month late but not forgotten..
Janis Joplin passed away 36 years ago on October 4th.
Wednesday, November 1, 2006
wise
Was it wise for me to sign up for the NaBloPoMo? Will I be able to find adequate material to post each and every day this month. Or will I slid into a sesspool of letters and vowels, mumbling to my end, unable to form neither complete nor complex sentences.
It should be a fun month and a worthy archive at the end of it all.
To kick off the month, I include this picture of my boyfriend's friend Kennedy. We sat on a neighborhood patio after relocating Michael's belongings, the afternoon sun setting warming our faces in the crisp autumn air. I think he looks like a Yoda, or a sage, maybe a wordsmith or a spinner of tales.
Someone with a story to tell. What's your story?
Tuesday, October 31, 2006
Monday, October 30, 2006
celebrate the dead
You know you live in the right neighborhood when in the middle of the night, they block of the street and 25 000 people come out and have a parade to celebrate the dead.
Otherwise known as the Parade of Lost Souls.
i see you
"I made a cup of coffee smoked a j and started perusing; feeling more than a little like a spy or as though someone might at any moment blow a whistle to announce I had crossed a barrier or committed some kind of foul. It’s a beautiful site, full of wondrous verses, fantastic photos, familiar commentary and pretty things of all nature, but I have to admit that doesn’t really surprise me.
It’s good to know the blood in your veins is still warm and your life is not the one I knew you to once have – by that I mean better than it was. It was a warm feeling but a short lived one as I knew with every achieved month I read that I did not belong here, and more than that, that this feeling is as it should be. Like seeing you from across a street for a moment before dashing into a store to avoid being seen in return. Things are as they should be now, but I'me very glad that includes you being healthy and happy.
I didn't really need you to hear that, I'm just glad. Maybe I only took the extra step of writing this down in a comment because I knew I would get the last word. ;-)"
This is really quite nice. A nice thing to find like a little note tucked away in the corner of a dusty drawer. It was darn nice of you to go looking for me and well, let's admit it, I'm quite easy to find. I'm not really hiding myself or keeping any secrets anymore. And you found my little presence on the web and took a moment in a breath of inspiration to say some nice things.
Or was it the marijuana??
I'm glad you like this place. It's really always been about having a nice place to go. A place of comfort and acceptance and you know, "more kisses please" is about being kinder and gentler and nicer to one another and sharing nice things. It's not about spying, or not belonging and least of all is it not about getting in the last word.
You wrote you don't belong here, but yet you come around and check it out. I'm amused by that. And glad by that. A lot. After all these years and I can still captivate your interest even though you duck into the stores and hope not to be seen. Somewhere underneath all the denials I suspect you probably do care and are interested.
I've dropped my defenses and my "I don't care about you" face. You can come around and say hi anytime you'd like. I'm happy to know you, have known you and a little less happy to assume the blood runs warm in your own veins. I'd rather know for sure.
Thus, things are, however, not as they should be. You should walk across the street and say hello. I'm not that scary.
Boo.
It’s good to know the blood in your veins is still warm and your life is not the one I knew you to once have – by that I mean better than it was. It was a warm feeling but a short lived one as I knew with every achieved month I read that I did not belong here, and more than that, that this feeling is as it should be. Like seeing you from across a street for a moment before dashing into a store to avoid being seen in return. Things are as they should be now, but I'me very glad that includes you being healthy and happy.
I didn't really need you to hear that, I'm just glad. Maybe I only took the extra step of writing this down in a comment because I knew I would get the last word. ;-)"
This is really quite nice. A nice thing to find like a little note tucked away in the corner of a dusty drawer. It was darn nice of you to go looking for me and well, let's admit it, I'm quite easy to find. I'm not really hiding myself or keeping any secrets anymore. And you found my little presence on the web and took a moment in a breath of inspiration to say some nice things.
Or was it the marijuana??
I'm glad you like this place. It's really always been about having a nice place to go. A place of comfort and acceptance and you know, "more kisses please" is about being kinder and gentler and nicer to one another and sharing nice things. It's not about spying, or not belonging and least of all is it not about getting in the last word.
You wrote you don't belong here, but yet you come around and check it out. I'm amused by that. And glad by that. A lot. After all these years and I can still captivate your interest even though you duck into the stores and hope not to be seen. Somewhere underneath all the denials I suspect you probably do care and are interested.
I've dropped my defenses and my "I don't care about you" face. You can come around and say hi anytime you'd like. I'm happy to know you, have known you and a little less happy to assume the blood runs warm in your own veins. I'd rather know for sure.
Thus, things are, however, not as they should be. You should walk across the street and say hello. I'm not that scary.
Boo.
up for a challenge?
I'll be participating in the annual NaBloPoMo challenge. Otherwise known as National Blog Posting Month. (Charlotte..this is perfect for you.) Here's a bit off the website:
"NaBloPoMo is an alternative to November's NaNoWriMo, National Novel Writing Month, the program wherein you crank out a novel in thirty days."
"Rules: Post every day for the month of November. That's it."
Sounds easy enough. Tricky part is when you have to go to Texas for a wedding or in some cases you are the wedding. Then again.. its topic info.. and if that fails, I'll be referencing Mighty Girl's "No one cares what you had for lunch- 100 Ideas for your blog".
Stay tuned, check in, and pass the word.
Thursday, October 26, 2006
Wednesday, October 25, 2006
Tuesday, October 24, 2006
knit one pull out 2
My mother is taking up handy crafts.
She emailed to say that she wanted to build a garden shed and explained that she didn't want to make coffee for the guys- she wanted to do the sawing and hammering. She was going ask my Uncle Ken but she realized that she'd end up with a Ski Chalet. This is true. Ken only thinks BIG.
She's also endeavored to sort out the scrapbooks of baby pictures and mementos she's been carting around in various shoe boxes for about 29 of my 36 years. She didn't start collecting for me until I was verbally able to ask her, "Are you saving this stuff?".
She also revealed that she is taking up knitting. Of course my first thought was that my mother would become a member of the renegade guerilla knitting group, Knitta- warming the world one car antenna at a time.
Maybe that's a bit too ambitious. So, I found this instead. A cute and easy flapper hat pattern.
I think it would look great on her!
Or me.
She emailed to say that she wanted to build a garden shed and explained that she didn't want to make coffee for the guys- she wanted to do the sawing and hammering. She was going ask my Uncle Ken but she realized that she'd end up with a Ski Chalet. This is true. Ken only thinks BIG.
She's also endeavored to sort out the scrapbooks of baby pictures and mementos she's been carting around in various shoe boxes for about 29 of my 36 years. She didn't start collecting for me until I was verbally able to ask her, "Are you saving this stuff?".
She also revealed that she is taking up knitting. Of course my first thought was that my mother would become a member of the renegade guerilla knitting group, Knitta- warming the world one car antenna at a time.
Maybe that's a bit too ambitious. So, I found this instead. A cute and easy flapper hat pattern.
I think it would look great on her!
Or me.
a novel idea
scenario: storage hopscotch
characters: the boyfriend, loyal beautiful and helpful girlfriend, 3 unknown warehouse guys, Kennedy, and Todd, and a woman named Shirley
setting: warehouse number 1, warehouse number 2, bsmt of subletted apt
props: various boxes and unboxed belongings, 4 pallets, a pallet jack, a one ton truck and a bucket of dust.
plot outline:
-The boyfriend vamooses into the UK and the arrangements for his belongings does not remain reliable. Belongings include but aren't limited to 4 pallets piled chest high, 2 large heavy wooden desks, and a metal cabinet.
-Objects make an unexpected run out of a North Shore storage unit to a sound stage in South Vancouver. 2nd location is eerily close to the girlfriend's job and convenient rented warehouse storage facility.
-Calls are made by Shirley to the girlfriend and the suggestion is made that if items do not make a hasty retreat, doom may befall them.
- A gasp is heard.
-More calls are made. Vehicles are borrowed, keys obtained and items beat it out of one storage to another.
-Later, the aquistion of muscles, a truck, and a more permanent storage facilty are sought.
-Resolution looks hopeful for Sunday. However if the Boyfriend thinks its a good idea to return from langushing in the UK without making a stop at the girlfriend's favorite grotto of cosmetic lovliness otherwise known as B Never, there may be a sequel to the story.
characters: the boyfriend, loyal beautiful and helpful girlfriend, 3 unknown warehouse guys, Kennedy, and Todd, and a woman named Shirley
setting: warehouse number 1, warehouse number 2, bsmt of subletted apt
props: various boxes and unboxed belongings, 4 pallets, a pallet jack, a one ton truck and a bucket of dust.
plot outline:
-The boyfriend vamooses into the UK and the arrangements for his belongings does not remain reliable. Belongings include but aren't limited to 4 pallets piled chest high, 2 large heavy wooden desks, and a metal cabinet.
-Objects make an unexpected run out of a North Shore storage unit to a sound stage in South Vancouver. 2nd location is eerily close to the girlfriend's job and convenient rented warehouse storage facility.
-Calls are made by Shirley to the girlfriend and the suggestion is made that if items do not make a hasty retreat, doom may befall them.
- A gasp is heard.
-More calls are made. Vehicles are borrowed, keys obtained and items beat it out of one storage to another.
-Later, the aquistion of muscles, a truck, and a more permanent storage facilty are sought.
-Resolution looks hopeful for Sunday. However if the Boyfriend thinks its a good idea to return from langushing in the UK without making a stop at the girlfriend's favorite grotto of cosmetic lovliness otherwise known as B Never, there may be a sequel to the story.
what the?
Mother, pointing to a woman playing the musical saw: She is singing!
Son: No, She's playing the saw.
Mother: There is an orchestra playing!
Son: It is a tape.
Mother: And she is singing?
Son. No. She is sawing.
Mother: What did you say?
Son: Go, have a look.
Mother: .......
Son: And?
Mother: It's like singing.
Son: That's it, the saw.
Mother: What a nice voice she has!
Son: She is not singing. It's the saw that's singing.
Mother: No way... She is singing into the saw?
Son: No, no singing. Just sawing.
Mother: But she is opening her mouth.
Son: She is breathing.
Mother: Are you sure she is not singing?
Overheard in Union Square subway station
Son: No, She's playing the saw.
Mother: There is an orchestra playing!
Son: It is a tape.
Mother: And she is singing?
Son. No. She is sawing.
Mother: What did you say?
Son: Go, have a look.
Mother: .......
Son: And?
Mother: It's like singing.
Son: That's it, the saw.
Mother: What a nice voice she has!
Son: She is not singing. It's the saw that's singing.
Mother: No way... She is singing into the saw?
Son: No, no singing. Just sawing.
Mother: But she is opening her mouth.
Son: She is breathing.
Mother: Are you sure she is not singing?
Overheard in Union Square subway station
Monday, October 23, 2006
poignant
"When you're at the end, it's too late for oranges."
Thanks Vince, for having the humor your father passed on to you and for remembering it, sharing it, and finding the laughter inside of it.
love jill
Thanks Vince, for having the humor your father passed on to you and for remembering it, sharing it, and finding the laughter inside of it.
love jill
rebuttal
Courtesy of Subversive Cross Stitch
Oh Charlotte, did I reall dress down the man of the house? Or did I merely advocate the esthetics of Joe's coffee albeit passionately??
the saddest feeling
"The only evidence I have is his socks."
To my deareast most loyal friend.. I am so saddened by your unexpected loss. It is an unbelievable passage in one's life when one of the people responsible for your creation passes on. My heart and my thoughts are with you.
To my deareast most loyal friend.. I am so saddened by your unexpected loss. It is an unbelievable passage in one's life when one of the people responsible for your creation passes on. My heart and my thoughts are with you.
Friday, October 20, 2006
a reason to go to church
Joanna Newsom is coming to Vancouver on the 5th of December, playing at the St. Andrew-Wesley church. Tickets go on sale this Saturday.
Do you want to go with me?
Joanna Newsom - The Book of Right-On (Jools Holland 2004)
update: it was fantatsic!
Do you want to go with me?
Joanna Newsom - The Book of Right-On (Jools Holland 2004)
update: it was fantatsic!
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