Motivated Self Starter

The sense hit me hard today that my life is made up of the myriad little decisions I make in a day. I probably read this on a bumper sticker in Bear Town.

I had a few hours to kill before my next appointment this evening (dinner with the Swedes! I am so blessed) and I was nearly overwhelmed with the options. I could take a bicycle ride in the Baylands. I could spend money I don't have and get coffee and draw. I could go to the library to check CL (something I am obsessing about this month). Even the library had an almost overwhelming number of options. I thought that having no money would narrow it down, but it doesn't. The internet, the stacks-- these jewelled moments are like diamonds in my hand. Its a gorgeous day, even staring out the window would be a lovely thing to do.

I made a choice. I decided to look for more rooms on CL. Now I am blogging. How is this molding my life, I wonder? What kind of person will I be?

Goblins and Angels

imagining herself in the City

Ever since I decided I needed to move, my emotions have been up and down. The ups have been as intense as the downs. Butterfly-light tappings of optimism have been quickly squelched by the heavy sandbags of despair. Wide vistas open in my imagination then close, and then open again.

It took a prolonged moment of near-despair to force me to realize that I don't have to take this seriously at all. That the parade of goblins and angels doesn't mean anything beyond the fact that I am alive and the universe is what it is.

One Goblin

I was reading the application process of the San Francisco Union School District. After a while it seemed that some evil HR person was out to get me, and purposefully wrote this long and ridiculous thing just to scare me away. I don't know why I got so intimidated, I have done this before. There is a ton of legislation they have to comply with, hence the scary verbiage. It just means that I have to sit with my scanner for about five hours, scanning all my paperwork (although some of it I might have to write to a university office in Redding to get). Tedious, but not impossible.

Two Goblin

I looked at a cool room I found on craigslist last week. The house was beautiful, the kitchen large, the people normal. I was very excited by the interview, but no cigar. Back to the room postings.

Three Goblin

For a moment I was seized with the fear that I just wasn't cool enough. Dammit, I am cool enough (affirmation #523)

Angels with Hotdogs

The afternoon spent in the City, hanging out with friends, drinking tea and munching on real German sausages was fantastic and reminded me why I wanted to be there.

Super Spiritual Sunday

I visited two and a half separate services with El Caballero yesterday, for a total of 2 sermons, three coffee hours and one and a half worship times.


I have a problem. I can't sit through a 30 minute sermon. It is physically impossible. If I am really disciplined, I can sit quietly and visualize complex geometrical topographies, or compose imaginary orchestral pieces, all the while looking completely absorbed in the proceedings. But if I have forgotten my ritalin, or just plain forgot to mentally prepare, then all off a sudden I find I have to move every part of my body, or tap or scratch my head or gyrate. When I go to church alone, I usually just make sure I have a pen and paper. I forgot that no one tells a stranger to "sit still." If I find I can't take it anymore, I can leave.



But now, I go to church with El Cab. Sometimes I suddenly find myself in a situation that calls for restraint and reverence. I might be stricken with a pen shortage, or unbearable gas. The priest might be saying something holy, the sanctuary might be small and the pew crowded. Wandering outside, or doing the Chicken Dance might be impossible. I'll try to contain the unbearable jitteriness into a leg, or foot, only to have it explode into a cascade of tapping. He's too polite to jab me with a pen, like the Pater used to do, but I can tell I'm distracting him.



I found myself in such a situation yesterday. A long service (but edifying!) coupled with the sudden onset of mind-searing boredom. I made a special trip to my car for pen and paper. I brought back a nice piece of typing paper that I promptly started tearing into an origami book. The tearing was too loud, so El Cab took it from to me to tear it silently, but he accidentally tore it in half. It took significantly more tearing (slowly slowly) to turn the precious fragments into smaller books.



I made two postage-stamp sized, eight page books. The first one I filled in the morning service. The second, we filled in the evening service. They are a combination of sermon notes, observational drawings and doodles.


Its the M!
I love church. I love the people. I love the spectacle. I love the ritual. I love the post-service socializing. I love the music. I love the Bible readings.

nb: That drawing of El Cab in the turban-- it really happened. We were driving down the street and he pulled off the scarf that had been a permanent part of his wardrobe ever since the temperatures dropped below 50 and declared that he was going to see if he could wear it as a turban. Sadly, he didn't leave it on long enough for me to take a picture. I had no idea how complicated turban-rolling is, he had a few false starts before it stayed. I feel sorry for men, if they live in the West, they have to be able to knot a tie, and if they live in the East, they have to wrap a turban or a sarong.