. . . Tupperware Cities . . .

Thursday, February 28

 

Aaron blogged last night that his site has transformed itself from a link-a-thon to somewhat of a journal. Strangely enough my site has done the opposite; what started as primarily a dream cache, has turned into a hunt for the best sites. What I would prefer is duality between the two, on the same site in different sections. But unfortunately, this site is FREE, and that's my favourite price, next to half-off.

I did have a dream last night, about my new job. Started working part time at a record store this week, and so far it's pretty nifty. (Aaron dont' read this part). Let's put it this way; I know how to do some of the cashier functions, but know everything I need to about getting free shit, finding out discounts, and finding all my favourite cds used. Hee hee. It's a nightmare for my pocketbook. Speaking of nightmares I had a good one last night.

DREAM: Pregnancy vs. Abortion, New Job, Skiing

Stress dreams about money, naturally. I dreamt I was sitting at a picnic table in the back yard of someone I knew. I was sitting on one of those lawn chairs, with the metal frame and plastic flaps woven in and out of each other. It was summertime, and the wind was blowing pretty hard, but it was warm. I was wearing a plaid sundress with no sleeves, and I could feel my hair pulled back into a tight bun at my neck. The grass was so thick and tall that, combined with the wind, could knock over the lawn chair if no one was sitting in it. Sitting in the chair there was someone standing to my right, and someone standing at the opposite end of the table, and someone standing in front of my across the table. I was crying, but angry crying, when you're so stressed you don't know what to do with yourself. I remember being scared about something, and yelling at the people there. It's not that I was angry with them, rather they were friends/family members who were there to listen to me vent. The person across from me, a black man with graying hair, told me having children wasn't all that bad. I yelled back, I can't afford to have a child right now. I can't afford it! Then I told them if I was pregnant I would have to shell out four hundred bucks for an abortion. They told me that was a lot of money, that I didn't have it. I yelled back well $400 is better than what it's going to cost to raise the child, which I don't have. Needless to say this was a scary dream. Had it not been outside, with my bare feet on the grass, and my friends around me, I would have not been able to handle the situation, undoubtedly.

This was the first dream I had, then I woke up, looked around for a pen, then fell back asleep. I have forgotten most of the details. Was at my new job, a record store, which actually was on the side of a snowy mountain. In order to transfer CDs between the stores you had to ski to get there. All I remember was skiing back and forth and picking up packages of CDs that were half-buried in the snow.

Lynnette 8:56 AM

Wednesday, February 27

 

Aaron just asked me what happened to my dream posts. Well, I can't remember them; I'm going through a time of Dream CRS*. Here's one I had yesterday, but it's only now that I've had time to post it. Fairly strange, even more random, here it is:

DREAM: Astronauts, Fishing, Coney Island

I was an astronaut, inside of a spaceship with another astronaut. We were wearing white space suits, ala Neil Armstrong, that had bright orange trim. They were so well insulated I couldn't hear any sound. We were working on some project outside of the ship. Instead of actually floating outside of the craft, I had my arm through a hole in the side of it. The hole was 2'x2' in size. The door that covered this square hole slid open and shut, sort of like a sliding glass door you'd have to your backyard.. When I was done with the project, I pulled my arm in. In one hand I held a large rock, and the other went numb. I couldn't slide the door shut over the hole, and was scared that the other astronaut would take off his helmet before I could seal the cabin. I tried yelling but the helmet was sealed, of course, and I ended up just hearing my own shouting. The more I yelled, the heavier and tighter the helmet was on my head. I tried motioning to the other astronaut, but the whole time I was working he had his back to me. I was petrified that we were going to get sucked out into the anti-atmosphere and have no oxygen to breath. I was so scared, I must have decided to dream about something else.

My brother and I were driving at night along a windy road, which was cliffside of the shore. It was twilight, but closer to the night side. We came up over a hill and parked in a parking lot that overlooked the ocean. Straight down the cliff was the sandy beach, but about a mile away, across the bay were bright shining lights coming from Coney Island. At that moment we knew that we both wanted to hit the fair, so we drove down the coastline. As soon as we got out of the car we took off running, on wet, cold, cement. I already had a bathing suit on. The air was cold, and we both shivered. It was that time of year that you really want it to be warm, so you pretend it's summer and going swimming, and wear tank tops, but it's cold nonetheless. I went to the basement and they were selling candles in little terracotta pots the size of a soda can. They were 25 and 40 cents. At first I wondered why they were selling candles; with so much water around you think they would be doused, but when I looked out over the water, which was dark, there were people swimming around with candle's floating next to them to light their way. I rummaged for some change but came up empty handed. At this point my brother was off playing with other people and I didn't have to keep tabs on him anymore. Next thing I knew I was swimming in the water, very low so the only the top of my head and my eyes showed above the water. I swam up near to people, a man and a woman each floating in an inner-tube. They couldn't see me, so I kept quiet. After they talked for awhile they started kissing, necking, very passionately. I felt as if I was intruding, even though they didn't know I was there, and decided to swim away.

Rainy weather, just like the early summers we had in Seattle where the ground is wet, the yards are soggy, and there's always a constant mist in the air, no matter if it's raining then or not. In a residential neighborhood I was walking along with several people who decided to start fishing in a creek that ran in between the houses. I'm a pretty good fisherman (fisherperson?) so I threw out my line. I had my own space until the people I had been walking with converged on my area and our lines all became tangled. For some reason it scared me that the lines were tangled and I started to cry a little. Something had been snagged in the creek, and I could see it coming out from under the water. It was Citizen Kane, my cat. Someone else's line had caught him in the roof of his mouth, just like a sunfish at Oak Lake. Ryan Dee was there and picked my cat up, and worked the hook out of his mouth. The cat was so scared he wasn't fighting it. Ryan handed me Kane, and I tried not to get blood from his mouth on my shirt.

* Can't Remember Shit

Lynnette 4:07 PM

 

Other than the official Stereolab site I visit the koly site. I've added a link under my 'some of me' section. The sequenced pictures tell a story so wait long enough to read it before you click on Clyde to follow the link. These pictures are actually the cover of Stereolab's first few vinyl releases. Word is if you stack them up, in order or release, they tell the same "story". I am missing one of them, since I am a lowly American fan, one of only 500 in the nation, and do not regularly have access to all of the band's merchandise. Grrrarggh!

Lynnette 8:55 AM

 

No distinct dreams in over a week. I find myself just before waking, telling myself, oooh that's a good one, remember to write that down. This method would work had the next step been to wake up. Alas, usually I turn off my alarm, so I am late-ish for work, and in my continual dozing I have more dreams, and forget all of them.

Lynnette 8:44 AM

 

I cannot tell the song that was in my head this morning, for fear of ridicule and loss of friends and family. Insert sheepish grin here.

Lynnette 8:41 AM

Tuesday, February 26

 

Several stupid reasons not to drink alcohol. Enjoy.

Lynnette 2:42 PM

 

Just discovered an online treasure: www.nowwashyourhands.com Let the first flash screen play out for awhile and listen to the voice...

and yet another: www.blackeyed.com The links page is endless, so this is a perfect reference point.

Lynnette 12:40 PM

 

I realize this is been up for quite awhile, but I have just recently added this link to my site. Since the new B.O.C. album was just released it appears as if the site is being updated. Anyhow, there's a nifty fractal screen; if you move your pointer over it you can morph it. I could stare at it all day.

Lynnette 12:33 PM

Monday, February 25

 

To accompany the essay, click on the bear head to go to a site containing the Radiohead blips, or antivideos.

Lynnette 1:00 PM

 

PhD in Radiohead?

Just found this by accident: A Doctoral Candidate from Seattle, Washington wrote/published a paper on the apperance of the bears and googly-eyed minotaurs in Radiohead's iconography; in their videos, artwork, websites, etc. It's fascinating, and ultimately very cool that a PhD wrote his dissertation on Radiohead. Read it here. Also being the book-geek that I am (thanks Aaron) I was thrilled to see that the first item in his works cited is Baudrillard's Simulation and Simulacra. Fuckin' Sweet!

Lynnette 11:50 AM

Sunday, February 24

 

Chuck Jones: 1912-2002

Chuck Jones, one of the most influential animators and animation directors of all time, passed away February 22nd, in Corona Del Mar, CA, of congestive heart failure. He was 89. If you ever spent Saturday morning with "The Bugs Bunny/Road Runner Hour," or waited in trepidation and joy for "How the Grinch Stole Christmas," sang "I'm going to kiiiill the waaa-bbit!" or rejoiced over "the Aludium Q-36 explosive space modulator" you probably owe a great debt of gratitude to Jones. It was under his watch that the Warner Bros. cartoons transcended the mere "loony" and reached human proportions. With Jones, Daffy Duck became a greedy, thoroughly despicable, fully understandable scoundrel, and Bugs Bunny fought for the little guy against the big brute, even if he couldn't find his way to the Coachella Carrot Festival...therein. Jones also created the Road Runner and Wile E. Coyote, Marvin the Martian, Pepe le Pew, Sam Sheepdog (and his co-worker RalphWolf) and Michigan J. Frog. Jones won many accolades during his full life, though Jones felt the very work he did was reward enough. In his autobiography, Chuck Amuck Jones said: "...if you are in that trade of helping others to laugh and to survive by laughter, then you are privileged indeed." Thanks Chuck; the privilege was ours. (From us.imdb.com)

Lynnette 12:55 PM

 

Reorganized my CD collection last night. This usually takes over an hour to do completely, and correctly, as that is the only way to organize, well, anything. In the past I have had everything alphabetized, by artist. At one point I got into a discussion with my friends Paul and Josh about how to deal with numbers, "the", and the occasional various or soundtrack compilation. Trust me, it was way too in depth; we must have all been going through an extremely boring time in our lives.

So for a change I organized them by colour of the CD spine, in ROYGBIV fashion, I think because I was listening to Music Has the Right to Children, and that was one of the song titles. Gee, I was inspired. It looked quite nice, a gradual rainbow, shelf after shelf. Then I began to look for music to listen to and realized for some albums, I didn't know what colour they were, and many of them were the plain black with white text, or white with red text spines. I got frustrated, was it yellow? was it green!?!

After three months of a change, I have gone back to the standby: alphabetizing, by artist, starting with A-Camp and ending with Zoom, with V/A followed by Soundtracks. Sadly, I enjoyed reorganizing them.

Lynnette 12:49 PM

 

Went to see Mulholland Dr. last night and was very impressed. I personally think David Lynch is one of the best directors out there. His work may not be accessible to many people but he's gone through a lot to create his own style; a very recognizable style at that. Caught some beautiful still shots, and the plot was quintessential Lynch. Couple of thumbs up from me. Now, the crowd. There were a pair of older, seemingly married people behind us, probably in their forties, or so. There was a scene in the film in which two women, who had previously had a platonic relationship, began to kiss and make love, with implications that they were going to have some serious sex. The two women behind me began to laugh, giggle even. I forced myself to try and ignore them, try and watch the film. Two other girls, in front of me got up and walked out. I honestly could not believe that adults can be so completely immature (or maybe I should say closed-minded?). However, I guess laughing at sexual situations you are not comfortable with is a common defense mechanism. Of course these were the same women that when the credits rolled across the screen that said: Written Directed by David Lynch, one said to the other, "Oooh, this is a David Lynch film? I hear he's really on the edge."

Some people just do not get it.

Also, Taahm has Aaron's old site. Please check it out. He's a huge Twee Bitch, but I love him dearly. I miss you Tom.

Lynnette 12:41 PM

Saturday, February 23

 

A few years back I spent a couple of weeks in NYC and this record store was undoubtedly my favourite record store we visited. (Trust me, we hit a ton of music shops!)

Lynnette 10:18 AM

 

A whole day without blogging! It CAN be done! I am living proof that someone with OCD can enjoying blogging, and then NOT blog when she wants.. I can stop whenever... really I can. Okay, more blog:

Not much of an update. Both of the people who read this site have probably had contact with me, so nothing new on the personal front. However, I just forgot about this site that was shown to me by a coworker. Some of you may say this is extremely un-PC, but keep in mind these are actual signs.

Now you silly goose, GO OUTSIDE!! If you live anywhere near me you're in for a treat: High of 65 today! WEEEEEEEEEEEE! And I don't mean Wee.

Lynnette 9:25 AM

Thursday, February 21

 

Please go here now. Zoot Woman site, click on Zoot TV and watch the flash animation video for the song "It's Automatic". Simply because it is totally sweet.

Lynnette 1:19 PM

Wednesday, February 20

 

New music links: (reports of heavy smog, be forewarned)

http://www.dominorecordco.com/ Home of some music by Four Tet, Folk Impolosion, and Smog.
http://www.aversion.com/ I don't love everything about this site but it passed my "S" Test: Stereolab, Shellac, Smog.
http://www.keepsomesteadyfriendsaround.cjb.net/ Interesting Smog site.
http://petdance.com/actionpark/ For all things Shellac, Big Black, Rapeman.
http://www.southern.com/southern/shop/ Good stuff, great bands.

Lynnette 2:32 PM

 

Can I have this please?

Lynnette 12:33 PM

 

I think this may going a bit far: www.blogstickers.com.

Lynnette 9:04 AM

 

Highlights from the evening:

Me: I was right, and now I'm wrong.
Aaron: Does that mean I won?
Me: No, it just means I'm wrong.

cut and paste, cut and paste.

Like sand through the hour glass, so are the Days of Our Lives.....

Lynnette 12:36 AM

Tuesday, February 19

 

IT'S HERE IT'S HERE

For the love of kittens someone call me!!

Lynnette 12:38 PM

 

nothing

Last night I had leftovers and read an essay by Bertrand Russell (Why I Am Not A Christian). It was very interesting and made valid points. I won't write about it here, since it was for personal enjoyment, and I refuse to proselytize. I don't often read philosophy, ironically because it reminds me of how much I do not know. For example, in reading the Russell essay he made references to Immanuel Kant and Socrates neither of which I have read. Which means I will have to do even more research and spend even more time reading. (This makes me happy).

Also, last night while my friend Candice and I were driving around we were discussing religion, comparing our beliefs and trying to understand each other. In our conversation we somehow followed the tangent of who/what created the universe, how was it made, how long will it be here, the universe is expanding and will somehow collapse in upon itself. We paused. Then we let off a series of valley girl "oh my gods" followed by silence. We were freaked out by the fact that our puny little brains have no fucking way of beginning to contemplate the nothingness that would exist (not exist?) when the universe collapses in upon itself. Alright, I understand the universe won't exist anymore, but nothing will, but it's just nothing. Nothing. It both amazes and confuses me. Go ahead do it, try to think about what nothing is. NOTHING. I triple dog dare you to contemplate nothing. Enough thinking, back to work.

Lynnette 10:02 AM

 

DREAM: Flying, Donner party, Vespas

I feel a slight explanation is involved. Last night my friend Aaron got a Vespa-type gift from a friend of his, and I was also playing Oregon Trail on an Apple2e emulator. You know that game where you try to buy supplies, hunt, and make it through the Oregon Trail before your children die of cholera, or typhoid. Anyway, I have a feeling that's where those two dream parts came from. And So..

I was in an airplane on my way to somewhere (of course), when the flight attendants began to do the speech before you take off about here are the exits, make sure you know where the oxygen masks are, the whole nine yards. The seat I had was in first class; the only way I know this is because it was comfortable and there was enough leg room to move around. The flight started and as soon as we got into the air a huge electrical storm broke out, despite the fact that the sun was fully shining. The plane was flying sideways and rocking back and forth. Normally I fly white-knuckled, rubbing my Boba Fett action figure for good luck, but in my dream I was simply concerned about the flight. We came up to a mountain side where there were train tracks. At first I thought we were going to run into the mountain, then realized we were going to fly down one of the train tunnels. I overheard the pilot saying something about not being able to maneuver the hill, it was pretty steep. Next thing I knew I was off the plane and walking on the train tracks with someone. He mentioned something about how we were in the area where the Donner party had traveled through, and buried (parts of them at least!) Walking down the tracks we came across a boy who laying smooshed up under the tracks. Instead of dirt under the tracks, it was filled with water, just in the area where the boy was, high enough to just cover the tracks, to drown him. When I saw air bubbles rising I realized he wasn't dead but was still breathing. I tried to pull him out from the tracks but he was trapped under the tracks. (No more Apple2e emulator before bedtime!)

I was somewhere in Colorado shopping for bicycles, at night. The shop was at the top of a hill that was covered in grass, and very steep. The bikes were lined up in rows down the hill. The light from the house/shop at the top of the hill was enough to shine over the hill, enough to see the bikes. I was there with two friends of mine, both men. (Oh let's say X and Z). Guy X looked into the house and said, "Look, a clinger." "A what," I responded. He repeated: "A clinger." I followed where his eyes were and in the window was a girl standing in a bikini. I didn't want to interfere so I hid by laying down in the grass where I couldn't be seen. Then I went walking down the hill with Z, and came across a row of Vespas. I couldn't believe it, they were only $45 !! I was freaking out! There was enough light from the house to see this one beautiful one that was light-blue, leather seat, and seemingly perfect. I took it for a test drive around the hill, and Z picked a scooter of his own to try out. I was having so much fun driving around that I had no idea I was about to.... smash right into Z on his scooter! I got up to see if he was alright, and picked up my dented scooter. I paid for my Vespa and went up to the house to wait for my ride. When I got the scooter into the light I realized that it had been originally white, and that the light-blue shade was hand painted on with a paintbrush, and only have of the body was finished. I was extremely disappointed that I had bought a sub-par item. At closer inspection I found the leather seat had paint splattered on it, and the edges were torn and frayed. My stepdad and mom showed up with a Van that my dad used to drive. My stepdad helped me hoist the Vespa into the truck, and we headed home for Lincoln.

Lynnette 9:18 AM

Monday, February 18

 

This is disgusting. One of our contractors where I work sent this article to me. It's about a headless chicken. No joke. Click here to read more.

Lynnette 4:15 PM

 

Yes I know, another post....

Which John Cusack Are You?

Lynnette 1:45 PM

 

You know all those silly quizzes where you can see what Breakfast Club character you are or what junk food you are, or even what Britsh band you are?? Well here's a blog that has a bunch of them in one place. Click HERE and Enjoy. By the way, I think if you answer that your "hit" song was "Wooo Hooo" you end up being Blur.

Lynnette 1:42 PM

 

I'm not alone in my atheism. Check this link. Thanks to Aaron for the info. :)

Also please do check out Aaron's new site www.elasticheart.com. He spent hours, days, weeks, months... okay, well he put a lot of effort into the layout. Let him know what you think.

Lynnette 1:21 PM

 

In "honor" of president's day here's 10 things you may or may have not known about the presidents.

Lynnette 10:02 AM

 

From Websters:
a·the·ism (noun)
1. Disbelief in or denial of the existence of God or gods.
2. The doctrine that there is no God or gods

ag·nos·ti·cism (noun)
1. The doctrine that certainty about first principles or absolute truth is unattainable and that only perceptual phenomena are objects of exact knowledge.
2. The belief that there can be no proof either that God exists or that God does not exist.

What's your religious belief?

Lynnette 9:31 AM

 

Tom, sweetie, I'm thinking about you.

Lynnette 9:19 AM

 

DREAM: Den, Photography, CPR

Last night I slept too hard to remember my dreams clearly. I remember specific details, and portions of dreams, but no complete narratives, unfortunately.

At first I was in a house, a large house with lots of people, lots of kids. The setting was some type of holiday, probably xmas or thanksgiving. Everyone had nicer clothes on that usual. I was helping bring food from the kitchen down to the den and every time I went around the corner to the stairs I had to keep lifting up the trays so the kids wouldn't knock them out of my hands as they ran by me. In my dream I also remember being conscious that I was dreaming and wondering why I was dreaming about lots of people in the house; two things: I was recalling what it was like to live with several roommates, or this is what it would be like to have lots of children. We were all in the den, and on the hearth, in front of the fireplace there were three oval/oblong pans, the type they have at weddings for catering food. Someone tried to look inside one of them and another person told them not to look inside. That the pans were to hold the homework for the children; they kept the papers inside the pans until the parents were in the den. Then the kids would open up the pans, with some sort of fancy presentation and reveal their homework, and await praise from their folks. (Weird.)

I was down near railroad tracks, in a big empty parking lot that was pretty much gravel and fine sand. I was laying on my stomach trying to square out a shot with my hands in two L-shapes. A woman walked by with a bunch of children and one of the kids asked what I was doing. She told them that's what people do to take pictures when they don't have a camera. (I have been seriously considering selling my Moog to by an Olympus SLR). As I waited there, with my shot framed by my hands, a bus went by on the railroad tracks.... ON the tracks. I didn't think twice about it, and got up, brushed myself off and left.

I was at a party, sort of a buffet inside, cruise ship outside kind of party. (Yes every weekend, darling) Inside I was chatting with people and picking vegetables off of a plate as I spoke. The only veggies left that I liked were the tomatoes and red peppers. Down the hallway I heard two guys yelling, sounded like it was in the bathroom. I put down my plate and went to investigate. When I opened up the bathroom door I saw two guys leaning over the tub which was full of water almost to the brim. In the tub, submersed completely was a very very very thin girl, Barbie shaped (as in plastic and pointy), in a one piece red bathing suit, not breathing. She was locked into/strapped into a cradle, sort of like a baby-seat that you use when you bathe babies, but it was adult sized. I pushed past the two guys and mumbled that she needed CPR, that she was drowning. First thing we needed to do was take her out of the water, baby-seat and all. After she was on the floor I tried to press five times down on her chest, then tilted her head back for 2 breaths. Her chest was extremely hard, like plastic (she was a Barbie doll after all), and I was concerned that the pressure was not reaching her heart. Instead I started to push on her stomach, which resulted in a stream of water spitting out of her mouth. I kept going, the two guys looked on, and eventually she sat forward in the seat, and threw up to her side. For some reason I threw up a little, too, in sympathy. Then I went out to the party again, and on the cruise ship, which was anchored next to shore. I was waiting on top deck for someone to talk to when I saw a man get shot, several times in the head, in slow motion. (Too much Sopranos?). I watched him turn end over end, and hit the side of the ship before he fell in the water. For some reason the only thing on my mind was, this shot would be amazing with an underwater camera. I dove in, head first, and positioned myself underwater, below the sinking body. The light shining down through the water was beautiful, but for some reason I kept sinking further and further down, all the while trying to take pictures.

Lynnette 9:18 AM

Sunday, February 17

 

My political compass:
Economic Left/Right: -5.88
Authoritarian/Libertarian: -6.26
(I can't get the graph to show up. We all took geometry, figure it out!)

Lynnette 2:11 PM

 

Sunday afternoons, may now take a backseat to my Saturday afternoons. One of my favourite albums to play when the good weather breaks for a day, enough for me to open the windows, get a breeze going, used to be Pavement's Crooked Rain, Crooked Rain. It just had the memories of weekend afternoons, being inside with a cool breeze. Today it's Coldplay.

Lynnette 1:44 PM

 

There is so much to write about. It won't translate in a post. To begin: I cannot stand pretentiousness and trendiness.

The thirty-something with pigtails and a cute backpack, the fat guy who put his glass on my table long enough to hike up his AE khakis, the couple at the table next to me who seemed to be whispering the unmentionable (she kept licking her lips), expensive bottled beer, the man with the motorcycle-cop moustache, the preppy couple that seemed to have waited in line for the wrong bar (the Brass Rail is two doors down), some shoddy Beatles covers inbetween those with twinge of originality, girls with barrettes in their hair much too close to their part to be functional, the chick behind me who was wearing a jacket similar to Kate Hudson's in Almost Famous who kept kicking me every time she left the booth, and the fact that I knew everyone in the bar whether I liked them or not. Luckily being mostly a wallflower I tend to be more of an observer; I recognize people more than they recognize me.

The highlights of the evening were the good looking guy who sang the Beatles songs from way back when, telling Julian about my autographed Dolemite back-scratcher, my third beer and leaving.

Lynnette 1:14 PM

Saturday, February 16

 

Aahh Saturday afternoons. My favourite time of the week, next to Sunday afternoons lazily spent with a friend. Here's a great poem by e.e. cummings:



i love you much(most beautiful darling)

more than anyone on the earth and i
like you better than everything in the sky

-sunlight and singing welcome your coming

although winter may be everywhere
with such a silence and such a darkness
noone can quite begin to guess

(except my life)the true time of year-

and if what calls itself a world should have
the luck to hear such singing(or glimpse such
sunlight as will leap higher than high
through gayer than gayest someone's heart at your each

nearness)everyone certainly would(my
most beautiful darling)believe in nothing but love

Lynnette 3:50 PM

Friday, February 15

 

It's late, I need to sleep. Watched another episode of Twin Peaks with the Grauzone. I hope he's into it.

Lynnette 11:47 PM

 

A pet peeve I have is when I fall asleep during the first episode of the Simpsons, and wake up in the middle of the second episode. Two halves of two Simpsons episodes.. damn. Go ahead do it, just twist the knife deeper into my heart. Grrr.

Lynnette 8:18 PM

 

New plan: While I am thrilled to be receiving a tax refund this year, I plan on putting it to better use than I have in previous years. Rather than buying a stack of DVDs or CDs I have been planning on buying, I'm going to save it all in a fund for downpayment on my first house. I will own a house someday, oh yes, I will.

Lynnette 1:51 PM

 

Which Trainspotting Character Are You?

Yes, I am goofing off at work... again.

Lynnette 11:45 AM

 

Came in to work this morning and my friend Amy said she had a surprise for me. Behold it was Bertrand Russell's Why I Am Not a Christian. For FREE! She said her husband received a newer copy of the book for his birthday and didn't need this one anymore. There are several pages falling out, but that was easily fixed with a large rubber band. It will go on the pile of books on my bedside table that are next in line to be devoured.

Lynnette 8:42 AM

 

DREAM: Jogging, Dad, Grandma

My lack of creativity this morning I blame on an empty stomach. Others may say it's due to a lack of sleep or perhaps a lack of creativity stemming from the fact I was never an art major in college. I beg to differ. But, I digress.

In my dream I was downtown in the Haymarket, meeting with a female friend of mine. After she left I said I would meet her at my home, and started towards my house. Why we didn't go together escapes me. I began jogging on the sidewalk block after block. For one reason or another I kept turning corners where I didn't need to making my excursion even longer than it needed to be. I ended up at a house where my Dad was living, but he was very sick. My grandma got up from her bed to greet me, tell me my Dad was doing better, but was still weak. She had less wrinkles than the last time I saw her before her death last April, and her hair was brown. She wasn't as frail as I remember her, but solid and strong when she hugged me. I left, knowing everything was okay, and continued jogging.

Lynnette 8:36 AM

Thursday, February 14

 

Here's a poem to brighten everyone's Valentine's Day:

Two Volume Novel
The sun's gone dim, and
The moon's turned black;
For I loved him, and
He didn't love back.
Dorothy Parker

Lynnette 11:12 AM

Wednesday, February 13

 

Politics anyone?

I found a site that allows you to determine where you sit along the left-right/libertarian-authoritative spectrum of politics. Along with this Political Compass test there is an analysis and explanation of the different political standpoints. I came out as a Left-wing Libertarian, somewhere Southwest of Gandhi. There is also a recommended reading list according to the quadrant your beliefs fall under. The first two books on my list were Naomi Klein's No Logo and Eric Schlosser's Fast Food Nation, which I am already in the middle of!

"There should be no occasion where a woman considers herself subordinate or inferior to a man..woman is the companion of man, gifted with equal mental capacity."
"When we make others happy, we too gain happiness. Happiness, the goal for which we are all striving, is reached by endeavouring to make the lives of others happy."
"The greatness of a nation and its moral progress can be judged by the way it's animals are treated." -all quotes Gandhi

Lynnette 12:30 PM

Tuesday, February 12

 

In other Awards...The New York Film Critics Circle has announced its winners for 2001. Mulholland Drive was listed as the Best Picture. Click here to feel the magic, and discover the other winners. Sweet.

Lynnette 11:34 AM

 

OSCARS !!

Just realized the Oscar nominations are out! (Thanks to Aaron at almostcool.org). Looks like I have quite a few films to watch before the Big Night.

Oscar nominees I have already seen:
-Beautiful Mind
-Sexy Beast
-Bridget Jones' Diary (book was much better)
-Gosford Park
-Shrek
-Amelie
-Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone (book was much better)
-The Lord of the Rings: The Fellowship of the Ring
-A.I. Artificial Intelligence (Grauzone can vouch for me, it was horrible)
-Ghost World
-Royal Tenenbaums

Oscar nominees I plan on seeing:
-In the Bedroom
-Ali
-The Man Who Wasn't There
-Mulholland Drive
-Memento
-Vanilla Sky

Lynnette 11:19 AM

 

Reads...

Last night I finished an autobiography I had been reading by Joyce Maynard. Joyce was a writer from a very early age, 12 or so, and had several articles and essays published in nationally distributed magazines before the age of 17. The year she began college at Yale, she was approached by the New York Times Magazine to do a cover piece on what the socio-political views of the average 18-year-old in America were. Although Joyce was was hardly "average". After her article was published, and her photograph graced the cover, she started receiving fan-mail. One letter expressing adoration was from J.D. Salinger. The two wrote letters, "fell in love", and eventually she went to live with him while composing her memoir, "Looking Back", which she published at 20. After a year or so of being together, privately, out only to their respectively families, Salinger gave her the boot.

I do not recommend this book. The writing style is wonderful; it's obvious she's a very observant writer. However, this book is a thinly disguised attack on Salinger, from a rejected lover. Rating 5.

To make up for this drivel I started a biography on Orson Welles, by Simon Callow. The Road to Xanadu, as I read on the dust jacket, is the first of two volumes on the "godamongdirectors". Only past the first chapter as of last night, but it's gonna be a good-un!

Lynnette 10:52 AM

 

DREAM: Chess, School Bus, Parking brake

First I was in a large house, an older style house, probably a faded, dirty white on the outside with paint peeling. It was pitch-black night outside, and the sounds of summer bugs were in the air, mostly locusts, which I hate. I like the sound, as long as they're in the trees, but I digress from my dream. There were a lot of people here; in what I guess you would call a party of sorts; nothing rowdy, mostly intelligent guys, and me. I went inside and walked from room to room; there were conversations going on everywhere, but none of which I thought I could interrupt or join in on. I found a room with seemingly friendly men, and walked in. There were about ten or twelve of them, laughing, milling around near the center of the room. Someone said something about playing chess, picking partners, and the group all ran to the walls to 'claim' a spot. I ran and did the same thing, wedging myself in between two other guys already on the wall. When I realized I wasn't strong enough to push them aside, I got pissed off. I said, "Girls can play chess, too. I could probably beat most of you." No one said anything to me, so I walked outside. There were paths leading away from the house, even though it was a dark night there was a faint glow, enough to see the where I was going. It was also enough to see there were people walking on the paths toward the house. At first I stopped, not sure whether or not I should be scared of them. Some feeling I had let me know this whole area was safe, so I kept walking on the path, passing the person without incident. Since I couldn't play chess that night I figured I would go to the club and play pinball. The club seemed to be in the basement of this house, so I walked around the other side and went downstairs to find the pinball machine.

There was a large yellow school bus, in a rural area, not unlike Greenwood, Nebraska. There was an old lady driving the bus, not extremely old, but old enough to have been around the block, done a few major home renovations on her own (tearing down walls with a sledgehammer at 60 years), and still had a enough piss and vinegar to give you a good tongue-lashing. Okay, so it was a character based on my Nonnie. She was driving the bus, which at this point was empty, and I was sitting on a seat right up front, in what would have been the passenger side, if the bus had been an auto. My seat was exactly like all the other seats, except in its placement up front. It was the weird cold vinyl that has a green-black tinge to it. We were picking kids up for school around a neighborhood that had about 30 kids waiting around to be picked up. None of the children were older than 5 or 6, and most of them had on dirty white shirts and dirt smeared on their face. They started getting on to the bus, and the sun came out. It warmed the seats and my face. The ride was quiet so I just sat back and enjoyed the sunshine.

I had plans with 3 people to go to Walgreen's at 14th and Superior. (I know there isn't one there but in my dream the Osco Drug that is really there was a Walgreen's). There was an old woman, and a guy and a girl about my age, in the other car. I drove myself and parked next to them on a slight incline. They hopped out and went into the store, I told them I would be inside in a bit. I reached for my things I needed: a bag containing about three pounds of Spanish peanuts, a telephone that appeared to be old-fashioned but was simply in the style of the time and had push buttons, one receipt for the telephone, my purse (!?) which was cumbersome in and of itself, and a stack of about ten CDs. As to the reason I needed all of these items just to go into a Walgreen's, I am clueless. Apparently my hands become so full of junk that I couldn't grab my keys out of the ignition long enough to get my doors shut and locked. So all the items back in the car, and locked up. As I walked away I realized the car was moving backwards; I had forgotten to pull the emergency brake on! As I fumbled for my keys the car kept rolling. I hopped on and slammed on the brakes just before it careened into the car behind it, in the next row. I was attempting to start the car again, to re-park it, when I realized it was still rolling. It finally bumped the other car just before I was able to start it and park once again, this time with the brake pulled fully up. I went inside and looked for the people I was with. They were in the back next to a large table covered with folded towels of all different colors. The old woman offered me hot tea with honey; I accepted. The guy went off to look around the store, and I stayed on at the table to help the old woman tutor the girl in math.

Lynnette 9:19 AM

Monday, February 11

 

Which Brady kid are you??

Congratulations! You're Jan Brady, you hate being left out of big events and you loathe a certain someone you live with. You get perfect scores on papers due to your teacher's bad adding skills. Lose the wig, too, it doesn't help you at all.

Lynnette 3:27 PM

 

I may be moderately 'avoidant' but I know someone else who is moderately 'narcissistic'.
; )

Results:
Paranoid: Low
Schizoid: Low
Schizotypal: Moderate
Antisocial: Low
Borderline: Low
Histrionic: High
Narcissistic: Low
Avoidant: Moderate
Dependent: High
Obsessive-Compulsive: High

If you'd like to take the test yourself click here. Link courtesy of AJG.

Lynnette 2:00 PM

 

The French are just plain neat. They may have interesting hygiene practices, however, they make the best films. Here's some pics of Anna Karina. This one's for you Taahm!

Lynnette 1:20 PM

 

KANE... not my cat, the film

Just in case you'd rather read the screenplay that watch Citizen Kane, why not do so while online? It takes awhile to load, but it gives me goosebumps to know this is posted online somewhere. \m/ \m/

Since this film has chosen itself as my obsession for the day, I found a Citizen Kane Viewer's Guide, by Roger Ebert (the fat one). It's fairly interesting, but then again, it's my favorite American film.

Lynnette 12:32 PM

 

Harlan

Just wanted everyone to know my dad is doing much better. It's been very traumatic for all of us, especially me. I am so fucking tired of crying and being stressed. If I look a little fucked up lately, that's probably why; my eyes are starting to sink in upon themselves from being wiped and wiped and wiped, and with hospital tissues with have the consistency of fine sandpaper, no less.

I spent most of the weekend in his hospital room, which was weird because there was another man in the room, who had family there quite a lot. I felt weird at first expressing my honest weepy emotions to my dad with strangers in the room, but figured it wasn't a time to be shy. My dad was about 4 inches from death, I don't care if some normal looking people see my cry while my dad watches a motorcycle race. He kept telling me, "Watch the start, honey, you'll really see a difference in the size of these bikes. The 125s are just little scooters." I asked him what he used to race in Seattle, and he tells me a 360. Did you have a Kawasaki, I asked. No I had a Bull-Taco, he said with a straight face. I looked him in the eye and said, "Bullshit, what kinda motorcycle did you race?" My dad is know for being a smart ass, and I am my father's daughter, after all, so I didn't believe him at first. He told me Bull-Taco really is a make of motorcycle out of Mexico..... part of me still doesn't believe him.

Yesterday the contraband of choice/request was potato chips. (Saturday it was chocolate bars). I told him I'd be right back, went into the hallway and found a nurse. I very politely asked her if my dad was able to eat potato chips, and naturally she said no. I asked her to come into the room with him and tell that to his face, that he didn't believe me. There was a mixed look on her face; a smirk with annoyance. "Mr. Bender, you can't have potato chips." My dad called me 'the tattle-tale daughter' for the rest of the afternoon.

He's not completely well yet, but his heart is doing much better, which in turn has his kidneys and liver working better. Not great, but better.

Thank you to everyone to kept us in their thoughts, and wished my dad luck. Thank you also to my friends who listened to me on the phone and kept me company when I couldn't be alone.

Update: I found a picture of a BulTaco 360. It's true, it's true!

Lynnette 9:15 AM

 

I love you Kobe.

Lynnette 8:29 AM

Sunday, February 10

 

DREAM: Ex, American Pie 2, Preston Sturges

I was on a double date, the other couple being two friends of mine. My date was my ex-boyfriend Rob Beck, who was a jerk to me in real life, should my dream be any different? We were walking down an alley, the four of us, on our way to see a movie. More specifically it was the alley just south of Spaghetti Works here in town. It was dark out and there was some snow on the ground, but not falling. I was having a good time, in a good mood. My friends were walking a bit ahead of us. All of a sudden, and for no apparent reason, Rob hauled off and punched me hard in the arm, near my elbow, and took off down the alley. I writhed in pain and collapsed into a little ball in the alley, not really crying but whimpering. It was cold, snowy, and my date just assaulted me. My friends came back and picked me up, made sure I was okay. Rob was nowhere to be found, but I figured it was all for the best. I never really liked him much to begin with. We headed down the alley, toward the theatre. Inside the place was full of groups of teenagers waiting for the film to start; making noise, belching, throwing food. The three of us found a spot near the front left corner, about four rows back. I normally like sitting in the seventh row, and/or seventh seat in, but figured where we were sitting was the best way to avoid the mobs. The movie started, and it was American Pie 2. As soon as I realized this I mumbled something about having had to sit through it once before, and that was once too much. I decided my time was better spent sitting on the floor and organizing things in my purse. I sat on the floor down by the screen, in front of all the rows. My head wasn't in anyone's way, though. I took everything out of my purse, papers, receipts, money, junk, gum... and laid everything out in neat piles on the floor. I wiped out my purse, kinda shook it, then decided most of the things I had taken out of my purse could be thrown away. My friends, the other couple, came down to ask me what the hell I was doing, there was a movie on. I said I had already seen it and my purse really did need a good cleaning. Then I told the girl, 'Look at all of this junk I can throw away!". I was thrilled. Then suddenly the movie was no longer showing, and the theatre was filled with people trying out for a play; I was to audition for a character named 'Iraquaquaqui'. (No doubt a leftover from last night's dream). Then I listened to people argue about how to pronounce it. I dont remember the name of the play but the playwright was Preston Sturges of Sullivan's Travels fame. We rehearsed on the stage where the movie screen had been, and I practiced pronouncing my name clearly, and loudly so the audience in the back could hear my voice. Someone told me I had to work on my vocal projection. The final rehearsal was at Preston Sturges' home, a very small ranch house on a hill of grass, way up high over the city, somewhere in the AirPark area. One could stand on his front lawn and see the capital and all the tallest buildings downtown. The actors said their lines, going through the script, while Preston Sturges rode around on a riding lawn mower that looked like a souped-up bicycle. A young man was driving him around, and Preston was wailing and whooping with delight. We all thought it was a bit strange, and kept on with our lines.

Lynnette 9:29 AM

Saturday, February 9

 

DREAM: Soccer, Electrocution, Spiders

Dreamt I was drafted for a soccer team in which my brother was also playing. We had light blue jerseys and when I joined the team they were already in the middle of a game. I was playing the left fullback. Luckily we won by one goal. Aftrwards my brother and I were sitting on the sidelines watching people from the other teams perform riddles. Most of the riddles were mummies half buried in the ground with a voice from somewhere saying, "What's under the body." I hate riddles and can never figure them out. Some people next to us could. My brother and I walked down the sidelines where we saw a small house painted bright red about 100 feet away. The house was small, like a children's house you'd see at the Zoo or in a playland, but had three or four stories, proprotional to a child's size. I said why don't we run through the house, see what's inside or the other side of the house. If you looked through the back door, the hallway went directly through the house to the front door, which was open. It seemed to have a different light shining in the front door, than the light we had on the soccer field. We ran though the house, hand in hand, only to discover it was night in the front of the house. The front yard was sloped and tiered with levels of grass, with each level held in place with cement blocks stacked on top of one another. Right outside the door there were two women talking to each other; both had really long dirtyish straight brown hair. They stopped mumbling when Nick and I walked up to them, eager to start a conversation. Once we were close to them, they mumbled something in agreement and skittered away. My brother and I knew from then on we probably shouldn't talk to anyone else. We made our way down the sloped front yard only to find that at the bottom of the yard was a wire fence. I went down there looking for an easier route home, only to find that if you went down on the bottom tier, closest to the fence, an electric fence would appear, out of nowhere and pin you in. It was still night out but now there was a bright street light shining through the sky, which made it looked stenciled. I yelled to Nick to look at the sky, that it looked like the words on his ADIDAS shirt (three stripe brand), only stenciled by the street light. My brother ran along the fence and I kept crawling hands and knees until I reached a break in the fence where he helped me crawl out. I was not nearly as terrified of being electrocuted as I maybe should have been. We kept walking along the tiers and realized there were spiderwebs EVERYWHERE; not just around things, connecting tree branch to porch swing, but in the air. As we walked we tried walking through the webs where no one was home, if you know what I mean. A few of them were home, but were only the size of a ladybug, and seemed harmless.

Lynnette 9:58 AM

Friday, February 8

 

DREAM: Kmart, Van Gogh vs. Dali, Iraq

It began with me and a handful of friends walking around a Kmart. Not necessarily one in town here, but just any one. I was the same size as I am today, although our ages were younger. It was sometime in the Eighties, and we had on clothes to match. Funky shit in our hair, bad socks, the whole nine yards. We were walking toward the customer service counter when I saw a guy I used to know that we called "Pickle". I saw his black Chuck Taylors and knew it was him right away. I yelled, "Hey Pickle", and waved. My friends grabbed my arm and started running toward the door. I didn't know what we were running from. I ended up outside with about twenty or thirty kids, all standing outside smoking next to the building. I started to get really fucking bored. I overheard a convesation between two girls; one of them was starting school at the university and was planning on taking an art history course because she had heard it was a cinch to get an 'A'. I butted in and told her that art history was not something to be taken lightly; that it's difficult for people who lack memorization skills. I said it's important to realize that you're going to be shown one piece of work from any given time period and will be expected to name the artist, style, time period, and purpose of the piece. For example, I went on to tell them, you need to recognize that all artists have their own periods and styles depending on the time of their life. Take Van Gogh or Dali. Dali's early work looked a helluva lot like the Impressionists, large brush strokes, set out in a pointalism fashion. However, his later work was purely surrealist, like the melting watches piece everyone knows so well. The kids still weren't convinved; if they saw the melting watches, they told me, they would recognize it as Dali's work right away. I calmly explained to them that they can't rely on clues liek that to know a single artist's work off the bat. For example, (I kept saying this over and over in my dream) an artist may reprise a key symbol or style from another artist in order to make their own artistic statement. Any artist could have just as easily put a Daliesque melting watch in one of their paintings. So be careful.

Somewhere in Iraq I was standing in front of a huge mountain that had a road winding around it around and around and down the side of it; the side I was facing. Near the top of the mountain there was a group of Iraqi soldiers clammoring over each other to get down the path. There was a firehouse spraying the side of the mountain putting out a fire I couldn't see. The soldiers were in danger of being wiped out by the spray of water. At one point there was a bridge that was out, but had been replaced by a platform that they rested across the edges and a van carrying soldiers drove over. Ater the van left, two Iraqis, one on each side had to lift up the platform and straighten it out again. A second van went across and when the two men were straightening the platform, the man on the right lost his grip on the platform and burned his hands on it. The red cloth he had wrapped around his fist had slipped off, exposing skin.

Lynnette 11:24 AM

 

ALL HAIL THE MOOG!

Ever since I bought an Opus 3 Moog last year some of my friends have scoffed at me. (Taahm!) However, I enjoy having this relic around the house, and playing it when I find the time. Word has it that Robert Moog, inventor of the synthesizer has been given a 2002 Technical Grammy. Sweet! Here's an excerpt:

Robert Moog and Apple Computer have been named as recipients of the 2002 Technical GRAMMY Award, which honors individuals and companies who have made contributions of outstanding technical significance to the recording field.

The awards will be presented on Feb. 26 at a ceremony a day before the 44th Annual GRAMMY Awards. ...

"The technical and creative innovations of Robert Moog, and the inventiveness and versatility of Apple Computer are the towering achievements of true visionaries," said Recording Academy President/CEO Michael Greene. "The products of their inspiration introduced electronic technology into the public consciousness, put the power of creation in the hands of the individual, and revolutionized the recording industry."

Robert Moog's early development of analog electronic instruments made his name synonymous with the synthesizer and ultimately helped spawn the electronic music revolution of the '80s and '90s. His creation - the Moog synthesizer, which was unveiled in 1965 - introduced a vast array of new sounds and fostered an entirely new creative process of sound design. From Grammy.com

Read the entire article here.

For more information on those marvelous Moogs, please click here.

Lynnette 11:13 AM

Wednesday, February 6

 

Why don't I ever see this in my town?

Until then here's some Mullet Haikus. Enjoy, she said, with a look of uninterest mixed with numbness.

Lynnette 9:18 PM

 

I found out some bad news today, but it could get better. In the meantime please look at this site. It's the stupid little shit like this in life that lets me forget about life for awhile.

Also, thank you to my friends for the all of the support, shoulders, etc. Sometimes life throws you a curve ball. Thank god my Dad taught me how to play baseball.

Lynnette 9:13 PM

Tuesday, February 5

 

I hit 200 visitors and it was me!

Lynnette 9:33 AM

 

DREAM: Boba Fett

I was in a huge field with hundreds of other people, all my same age; in my dream we were in high school, but I felt the same as I do now. My friend Steve was with me and several other people. We were waiting for something. The field was all covered in green grass with some mud patches because so many kids were walking everywhere. As we waited I stood in front of Steve with my arms back around him. Steve got our plane tickets: row H seats 11 and 12, departing at 3:48 PM from O'Hare Airport in Chicago. The tickets were on a huge sheet with a bunch of other tickets and had to be torn off by perforations around each ticket. My ticket was on the same sheet as Steve and several of his friends, who never talked to me, but were polite. I was Steve's friend, not theirs. Finally it came time to board the plane. It was parked just next to the field, but inside looked like the inside of the large school bus. We boarded the plane and Steve and his friends sat on the left side of the bus, I on the right. Steve and I sat across the aisle from each other, even though we had seats together. None of us were even sitting in our seats; the bus wasn't very full, so we figured there would be time to move around later. The plane began to drive to O'Hare; after all, we were still in the field and had to get to the airport somehow. On the way there I remember leaning over the aisle and telling Steve about flying; since he had never been. I told him about the slow roll onto the runway, and the first takeoff thrust that throws you back into your seat. Then you head toward the sky at an angle and no one can get out of their seat. After the plateau, I told him, we could get up and walk around. I remembered suddenly that I am mortified of flying, and begin to look for my Boba Fett figure, which I always take on trips to keep myself focused on something OTHER than the fact that the plane could go down. Steve told me it was probably in my blue box, which was under the seat behind him. As I reached for it, the bus driver/pilot came back and snatched it from my hands. She was spindly and had dark brown, almost black, hair with a few grays throughout. She was also cruel, and began showing the contents of my blue box to everyone on the bus. I had forgotten what was in there, but listened to the kids laughing anyway. When she finally brought me my box back, saying something about sharing with everyone, I found 2 rocks and f2 yoda figures, which were about an inch high each. The kids continued to laugh but I ignored them; strangely I wasn't hurt. I sat up and asked the back of the bus, I don't have my Boba Fett, so should I use the Star Wars Yoda or the Return of the Jedi Yoda? They laughed, and I sat back in my seat. Star Wars Yoda, definitely. Then I realized he was NO substitute for Boba Fett. The first stop light the bus found a red, I hopped out and ran home to find him. I made it home quickly, in a minute or so. Then ran back to the stop light; the bus had just pulled away and was a block away, gaining. I had to make it to O'Hare. I ran up the street, which was uphill slightly and ended up at a cul-de-sac with a fancy hotel in the middle of it. Out of breath I ran up to the reception counter and asked a black man with short wiry gray hair if I could get to O'Hare quickly. I noticed the clock behind him said 3:30; I only had 18 minutes! He told me there was a way, and the next thing I knew I was reboarding the plane. Steve and his friends were in the same seat, and all the kids at the back of the bus were still laughing at me. I heard some of them talking about me; how I couldn't fly with my Boba Fett. I didn't care thought, because I knew it would calm me down during the flight. I asked Steve to sit next to me when the plane took off, and he said he would.

BOBA FETT HAS A MOUSTACHE?!

Lynnette 8:10 AM

Monday, February 4

 

Nettie the Action Hero?

Apparently there's a company out there that will make a super hero doll (ahem, excuse me) action figure of you if you send in a few photos and a physical description. It costs a pretty penny but I think if I were rich all of my buddies would have one. Click here to check it out.

Lynnette 8:27 AM

 

NIGHTMARE: Fast Food

Recently, I vowed off of several fast food chains for my dining experiences; including but not limited to: Taco Bell, McDonald's, Burker King, Wendy's, Hardees, Pizza Hut. To find out why click here or here or here or here!! Since I hardly ate at them before I didn't think drawing the lines completely would matter that much to me.

However, last night I dreamt that I was eating an order of medium-sized McDonald's fries. I wasn't really enjoying it while I ate, and afterwards I was heartbroken when I realized what I had done. Fast food nightmares??

Then I dreamt I had a baby girl, and was teaching her Spanish while she was wearing a jumper that had bunny ears attached to the top. She was extremely young, before normal talking-age but was speaking clearly.

(My hands are so fucking cold I can't type. It is 55 degrees in my apartment. I plan on moving as soon as I have deposit. Gas bill for $125 anyone!!)

Lynnette 8:25 AM

Saturday, February 2

 

Dorothy Parker is one of my favorite poets. Here's a site, with links to nearly all of her poems. She's a smart-alec, and I love her.

Lynnette 9:56 AM

 

DREAM: Michael Landon

I was in an underground city, like the one in Total Recall where all the mutants lived. I was in a diner with some people who were friends of mine (in my dream, otherwise I didn't know them). We were making fun of fast food commercials. One was a Pizza Hut commercial where the dorky teenager dressed up in his uniform poured pizza sauce all over a table and with his finger wrote out the phone number to the restaurant closest to you! Then we laughed and started running down a hallway and said how it would be funny if Michael Landon were at the end of the hall waiting for us, to scare us. We laughed and laughed, and when we got the end of the hall there was a living room (gee, imagine that: a living room at the end of a hall!). The lights were all out but there was a man sleeping on the couch, a blanket pulled up to his chin. At least we thought he was asleep. When we walked by the couch towards the front door he woke up and yelled; it was Michael Landon, and we really we scared. He chased us out into the front yard and started chasing us. Then I woke up. Just for the hell of it here's a picture of Arnie and Dolly Parton.

Lynnette 9:29 AM

Friday, February 1

 

We all have our own perceptions of the music industry. Well Steve Albini has his. Read it here. It's entitled "The Problem with Music." Enjoy, all you (us) Shellac fans.

Lynnette 12:40 PM

 

ATTN: Comic Geeks!

A symposium entitled "The Art of the Comics," which will celebrate and explore the significance of comic art to U.S. culture, will be hosted by the Sheldon Memorial Art Gallery on 1-2 February 2002. Among the participants will be Will Eisner, creator of The Spirit; Chris Ware, whose publication of Jimmy Corrigan: The Smartest Kid on Earth, has made him the most significant graphic novelist in the country; Bill Sienkiewicz, who has made Batman and Superman images; and comic art historian Robert C. Harvey, among others.

This symposium begins at 7:30 PM at the gallery. Since I probably won't go I just wanted to get the word out!

Lynnette 12:07 PM

 

I'm in shock, I bought the damned phone. However, it is exactly what I wanted, and will bring me sheer joy when someone calls. Mom, can I borrow some money?

Lynnette 10:12 AM

 

DREAM: Catherine Deneuve, furniture, beetle

I was down in a bomb shelter that had a tunnel up toward the sky. It was light out and there was enough light to fill the shelter. I was down there with 3 other people, much younger than myself, who I never saw. We were watching an extremely boring movie; one of those movies with a great director, great actors, but the script and plotline are so unbelievably horrible that you can't believe this great director and these great actors are involved. At the end of this movie a naked Catherine Deneuve had a spooning-orgy with two men, also naked, in a vat of spaghetti in meat sauce. I got bored and disgusted so I left.

I went looking for furniture and came across an outside used/antiuque furniture shop. It was outside of a town, in the middle of nowhere, practically, and was run by two men. One man had long gray on gray hair and would mumble and walk away from me, the other was just as tall and had short hair, but never talked to me. I asked him for a lighter to light my candle, over and over, but he kept pretending he didn't hear me, when he was only 5 feet or so away from me. Finally he turned around and chucked a white Bic lighter into the air, sort of like a fly ball my dad would have thrown me when we played catch. I didn't catch it and it hit the ground. But by that time I didn't care about it. When I turned around there was a bag from Barnes & Noble laying on the ground with a wad of money that had fallen out, just about to blow away. I hopped over there and stuffed the money in my pocket, picking up the sack. I don't know what was in the sack, but it was very light. I carried it with me and went looking for the guy inside his house but realized it was the antique furniture store, run out of his home. He had dressers and cabinets pulled across hallways so you wouldn't go into his private rooms, and try to buy his furniture. I found some really nice Eames chairs, tons of wooden Danish desks and tables, but there were no price tags on any of them, from what I could find. I went into the back room where his wife was sleeping; everything in my path still had price tags on them so I figured it was okay to keep looking. On the dresser there was a black beetle about two inches long that told me I was on time; he was so tired of these trashy people. Then he scurried across the top of the dresser. I saw that the woman was laying on a large pillow with a price tag facing down. I tried looking at the price tag without waking her up, but she kept stirring. After she started to mumble in her sleep I decided it was time to go.

Lynnette 8:37 AM

 

Dear eBay deity: All I want for Valentine's Day is a Western Electric Model 302 Rotary phone. I want this fucking phone. I want it, and I will get it. Amen.

Lynnette 12:58 AM