the tender bar: a review

j.r. moehringer's book the tender bar is a gut-grabbing memoir that is exceptionally well written. his use of metaphor speaks back to Aristotle's claim that folks who master the metaphor are geniuses.

he describes the bar patrons as "pickled people marinating in their own regret," he writes about his mother and her relationship to truth, which requires "compromise," and the security blanket metaphor, where his mother snips a bit away each night in order to decrease his dependency on it is poetically connected to how she sends him back to new york each summer, decreasing his dependency on her.

while i did not have the same visceral response as the friend who lent me the book, i can understand why he did. and he off-handedly mentioned how he now realizes where he's going, which perplexes me because i don't know to which character, which life-story he is referring.

in any case, it's worth a read, for the bar descriptions, for the pearls of wisdom picked up from people society would regard as shady or unreliable, and the search for mentors, where ever they hide.

a lesson on fear

am reading a potentially profound* memoir by j.r. moehringer entitled the tender bar, and here's a lesson from the text for today:

"you must do everything that frightens you JR. everything. i'm not talking about risking your life, but everything else. think about fear, decide right now how you're going to deal with fear, because fear is going to be the great issue of your life, i promise you. fear will be the fuel for all your success, and the root cause of all your failures, and the underlying dilemma in every story you tell yourself about yourself. and the only change you'll have against fear? follow it. steer by it. don't think of fear as the villain. think of fear as your guide, your pathfinder...(133)."

considering i am in the middle of changing my grad program, i find this passage especially motivating.

*not finished yet and as usual, revision rights reserved.

is that a popsicle in your pocket...

image by unknown

the caption under this picture read, "jack frost's popsicles make up in size what they lack in flavor." thanks to k.h. for providing the book that contained this little gem.

pumpkin d'art

image by syndie a.

i was unable to attend j.b.'s annual pumpkin carving party, however i did visit the next day to evaluate the aftermath of drunks with knives, and i must admit they produced a stunning array.

eenie meenie miney mo...

english...
communication and rhetorical studies...
english...
communication and rhetorical studies...
english...
communication and rhetorical studies...
english...
communication and rhetorical studies...
english...

five little words

text question:

from tomorrow on, you will only be allowed to speak five words of your choosing. all other words will not be able to pass from your lips. you have five, what five do you choose?

"clown's climbing through syndie's window"
"go and fuck yourself running"
"what? when? where? why? how?"
"fuck, eat, shit, love, head"
"give, hurt, explore, create, be"
"toilet, fuck, food, yes, no"

more as they trickle in. feel free to add non-texters.

just talking things out

during the week, i feel i am amazing, productive, and focused. then the weekend hits and i fall apart. i don't know what to do with myself and i make stupid choices and then i lie about them and it all unravels like a wal-mart sweater and it's getting worse... until today. in the last two weeks, i have become estranged from my two best friends, logic and reason.

i have to quit someone and the first step is admitting, right?

im in love with _______.

there. admitted.

now what?

imagine life with _______. within six months, where would i be? i would become one of the disgusting weak women i despise and want to violently shake into some sense.

say hello to alcoholism.
say hello to smoking two packs a day.
say hello to television.
say goodbye to independence.
say goodbye to veganism.
say goodbye to writing.

i quit. and none of this friends business because this is not how i interact with my other friends. we lean on each other, we support each other, we share in victory and defeat, it's give and take and with ______, it's always about his victories, his defeats, his foibles, his issues, his concerns, his plans, his food, his hobbies, his desires, his friends, his dog, his wants, his needs, his his his.

ah.. emotion, that treacherous siren, quietly yet seductively encroaches and unpacks, first leaving behind a toothbrush, then a change of underwear, and then suddenly the klimts are replaced with savage garden posters and chintz curtains hang in place of wooden blinds. then it's too late, for self has succumbed to her wiles.

im inviting reason and logic over for dinner tonight for a long needed chat about how to curb emotion's penchant for dominance.

where's my inner rosie? reaching deep into my feminist training for every tool, every device, every theory to keep logic and reasoning well into the night and every night.

temper tantrum: lending a voice

the friend i mentioned yesterday has been asked by his work, the place that fired him because he's gay, to submit a letter of resignation. when he told me, i emphatically "no'd" him.

support is gathering. and while legally there is little to no recourse, we sure can throw one hell of a tantrum.

more later...

update: while i respect your decision to avoid media attention, i think your story needs to be shared. please reconsider because if we are to ever change anything, sometimes we have to get messy. i love you and am thinking about you.

outraged angry insensed irate

a good friend of mine, in possession of an outstanding work ethic, was fired today because he was gay.

lame.

in idaho, the discrimination laws exclude sexuality and gender (thanks to blandella for this info), so an employer can legally say these words, "i am firing you because you are gay."

lame. lame. lame.

this is what powerless feels like.

i'm sorry c.m.

blog brag: scene i

i try not to brag but right now i can't resist.

"i enjoyed reading your paper so much that i didn't want to stop- and didn't feel the need to stop- to write anything in the margins....it's in your writing and forceful argumentation that the paper really shines...are you sure you don't want a master's in english?"
(and obviously the grade was an A)

ahh.. and while i know i am only as good as my next paper, it's satisfying to recline for a good thirty seconds and enjoy the validation as well as reflect on how i am right where i need to be after mid-semester anxiety bounced around in my head like a stray bullet in a metal shop.

idahomo

guess who got outted today?

ooh! ooh! pick me! pick me! i know the answer!

i defer to blandella for this one: hypocrisy revealed

take the day off

i gave kellyn two options this morning: a. she could get up, get dressed, grab her backpack and go to school or b. i could call the school, tell them she wasn't feeling well and then take her to breakfast and a movie to make her feel better.

she's smart so we went to breakfast, hit a thrift store, then walked to the theatre, which i believed was not too far until an hour later we arrived (only to find the place closed ARGH!) and i realized we were clear down by the mall.

all was not lost as we sat at a cafe and drank our coffee and perused magazines resting up for the journey home.

thanks kellyn.

as the goo oozes

yesterday while cruising around downtown with kellyn, she noticed green goo oozing from my back tire. i had somehow punctured the wheel and the slime inside the tube, its purpose: to resist thorns, was escaping. when i moved the bike forward, the mess began spurting out with an awful hissing sound. i was not impressed.

i walked my cruiser back to the flat with kellyn riding next to me the entire way giggling to herself. sometime, i didn't know when, i was going to have to take it in and have it fixed.

then today, in my basket, wrapped in a torn plastic bag, was a new tube and bottle of tube sealant (the green goo). on the tube box it said, "courtesy of [male name and an apartment number]."

it's moments like this when i have to step back and appreciate humanity although cynical syndie always raises an eyebrow, asking questions like "why take credit?" or "why are you paying attention to me?"

ah well.. at least my bike will be up and running sooner than expected.

what do you wear to bed?

kellyn: there's a boy outside and his name's rj
syndie: what's rj stand for?
(brief pause)
kellyn: rancid jammies?

god, i'm glad i got a smart one.

post-it haiku

enticing virgin square
harbor for laconic thought
affixed chaos in yellow

this haiku dedicated to c.m. and c.p. for their love of post-it's that mirrors my own.

i give you my body

i am officially donating my body when i die to the my university's anatomical donation program. i filled out the form, had two witnesses sign it and have a little card to carry in my wallet to prove that "i hereby declare that i wish my body to be turned over immediately after death to the university as an anatomical gift to be preserved and used for purposes of medical studies, teaching and research."

my only condition is that they refrain from laughing at any butt zits i may have at the time of death.

one year ago today...

...i was in england and had just discovered i could perch on my window ledge and have a semi-decent view of the city and street below. i sat, smoked, wrote, hollered at passing friends, ignored drunken wailing, and winced at the click-clack of heels on cobblestone. sometimes when i was feeling nostalgic, i would belt out maybe from the musical annie.

i still have "syndie in the window" time but now it's more like "syndie in an uncomfortable chair at her over-flowing desk" time.

ah well...

flak for your coffee?

at a local restaurant today, i asked kellyn if she wanted coffee. she said no thank you, which elicited a laugh and a "good girl" from the server. i calmly commented that kellyn did drink coffee and that i freely allowed her to do so.

the server's apologetic eyes bobbed up and down with her head as she back peddled, stammering out "oh, that's good."

she then asked kellyn if she wanted a soda...

go figure.

disappearing greens

spinach is off the list and now lettuce is suspicious (read article here)

the rule of st. syndie: prelude

sex is at the bottom of the hierarchy next to food, water, air, sleep, body temp regulation, and disposal of bodily waste.

love is two levels up.

based on maslow, it can be safely assumed sex does not equal love and love does not equal sex.

remember: the needs on the bottom begin the entire process and as each level is met, one can move on to the next, all the way up to self actualization.

so back to the sex thing...

issue: fuck buddies: do they ever work? how do they work? what does it take to maintain a friendship with benefits?

i've got to think some more about this before i load the verbal shotgun and shoot it at blogger, but i will be back...

where are you?

my tff's (text friends forever) have responded to the following question:

if you could be anywhere right now, where would you be?

"fucking your mom"
"heli-skiing"
"behind a crystal clear waterfall in hawaii, having sex"
"spending time with friends"
"the bahamas"
"congressman foley's apartment for hot sex"
"in your pants, haha"
"on the beach"
"korfu, greece reading the latest margaret atwood"


i'll update as more roll in, feel free to add those of you who refuse to add texting to your phones, or for other reasons are unable to text me.

and just a note, i see the a recurring sex theme. some of you feeling frustrated?

tangled webs

a hobo spider bit me. it hurt but thanks to j.b. for the benedryl tip. while i'm still sore, the pain is decreasing.

note to all hobo victims: you get bit, take some benedryl and watch the bite area. if it gets bigger, redder, worse or you start to feel sick, have it checked. steroid treatments might be in order at this point.

image from here

for those of you in the know about certain stuff, this post has more going for it than what's on the surface...

mid semester crumble

a public thank you to j.w. for the dinner the other night, it was amazing and much appreciated.

it never fails, every semester around the middle, something snaps and for about a week or so i am useless, sharply questioning why i'm where i'm at.

then it passes and i finish like a champ, but i couldn't if it weren't for pals with water-proof shoulders and mad cooking skills.

to all the friends who have listened to the mid-term whine, the "i can't do this" speech, and tolerated the "it'll never end" tears, thank you thank you and thank you some more.