((As a total sidenote, I hate the word "meme." I'm not sure why, but I do! Something about it makes my ass twitch, almost as much as when my brother says "delicious." Anybody else can say delicious and I'm fine, but he does and my shoulder involuntarily hunch up like I'm expecting a death blow. And for some reason meme hits me in a similar way. Horrid word.))

So, with no further ado, here's my seven random and/or weird things:

1. Weird Meat I Have Eaten. Part of my cosmopolitan farm girl background involves eating some weird foodstuffs, most of which have been meat. I've eaten squirrel, pork brains, venison heart, snails, tongue, raw oysters, various tentacled critters and raw fishies, bugs of various sizes (mostly dipped in chocolate, which helps), frog legs, and the thing that tends to nauseate most people: mountain oysters (which are, in case you're not familiar, beef testicles). I unabashedly love frog legs and escargot, and will get either if they're on a menu somewhere I'm eating....and mountain oysters I'll also eat if I get a chance....they're tasty. Pork brains, on the other hand, were disgusting - like watery liver-flavored jelly.

2. Strange talents. Most people know that I'm a musician (the carrying a guitar around thing is a pretty direct clue, I guess), but not everyone knows about my other weird talents; namely, I read palms and Tarot cards and astrological charts and runes and tea leaves and just about anything else that will hold still long enough. I am fascinated by divination in all its varied forms. Amazingly enough, this doesn't conflict with my whole love of science and logic and stuff. I have a whole spiel about how that works that I won't put here 'cause it takes too long. Ask me if you want to know.

3. Oyez, Oyez... I used to be a town crier at the GA Renaissance Festival. This meant that I rocked a bright yellow corset and a big bell in crazy Southern Summer heat. It's also where I learned that I can yell over a joust. Which sounds impressive, but is a less useful trick than you'd think.

4. Gypsy much? I have moved around a lot in my life. In fact, I've lived in Chicago for six years, and that's the longest I've *ever* stayed in one place. I lived in five different states before I started school, and went to five different elementary schools. At various points in my life, I've lived in a trailer (yep), a hotel, an RV, and then there was that one day I was homeless (nightmare!). Part of me feels so old and stagnant staying in one place. On the other hand, moving ain't cheap these days.

5. Gods, so picky! I am an uber-picky eater. I don't like spicy food, bananas, cabbage, raspberries, nuts, lemon-flavored things, licorice, bacon, white bread, etc., etc. I really try to never let my food quirks restrict other people, though...and if I can't find something on a menu I want to eat - there's always liquor.

6. Kids. Oy. I just found out today that I will soon be the lone childless sibling in my family. My youngest stepsister is expecting, and now the cheese stands alone. Gah!! I wish this meant that my parents would give up and accept the fact that I'm destined to be the Crazy Auntie, but not the mama.

7. Slinkies. I collect these. I have around 50 currently. I think Slinkies are maybe the most brilliant toy ever - so simple, so fun. I have them in all kinds of shapes, sizes, colors, materials...starting with the basic Classic Big Metal Slinky, and going all the way to the star-shaped glow-in-the-dark pastel-rainbow-colored slinky.

I'm not one for tagging others, so I leave an open invitation to anybody who wants to share their seven weird/random things. Enjoy!!

My Thanksgiving weekend was a good time. I will share this good time...now. (Okay, two people in the world will get that reference. I'm leaving it in anyway. This diary is not a democracy!)

I didn't have a big schmancy turkey dinner or anything crazy like that...I had some quiet downtime with some tasty nog and a Mystery! Marathon on my local PBS station, which was way awesome and good for the soul. I know it sounds anti-social or somehow not in the spirit of the holiday, but I actually really enjoyed it. Downtime, quiet, playing some holiday music...all things I haven't had much of lately, what with all the insanity and drama going on with the family. It was nice, on a day traditionally associated with going home to the family, to talk with them on the phone, and then go back to peaceful alone time.

What can I say? I'm an introvert. (Anyone who's been drinking with me may not believe me, but I promise you it's true.)

That evening, I trekked out to the Burbs in preparation for a 3 a.m. wake-up call and the shopping orgy that is Black Friday. We visited seven or eight different stores, racked up a few deals, discovered that digital picture frames are *the* hot gift this year (and none were to be found anywhere we went), and were ready for drinky-drinks the moment we got back to my friend's house. (I took a break from nog for some tasty Cider Jack! Mmmm.)

We watched Knocked Up, wherein I learned that movies about pregnancies resulting from one night stands and the ensuing relationship drama (particularly with pothead jobless slackers involved) may only be funny to single people with no kids. Go figure! Also: Seth Rogen is way hot (even if he is way young).

I came back into the city Saturday afternoon to rock the opening night of It's Only the End of the World, by TUTA Theatre Chicago (my dear and awesome friend Jennifer is a member of this company and rocks in this show). The show is amazing; it's by a French playwright (Jean Luc Lagarce), whose "Rules for Living in the Modern World" TUTA also produced a few years back, to critical acclaim and my own personal delight (I even went and saw it when they were performing it off Broadway). This Lagarce piece is a little less abstract, but equally challenging - it tackles family dynamics and death and all sorts of juicy stuff. For an oldest sibling who moved away from family as soon as I could, and only gets back every now and then, it really hit home. I mean, I cried and everything. Fucking brilliant.

If you're in Chicago between now and Christmas, seriously, go see this play!!!

After the opening, there was drinking with theater people, one of my favorite recreational sports. Whenever I do this, though, it reminds me how much I love being in a show, and how much I ought to get my ass out there and find time to do some acting. UGH!! I ought to buy a lottery ticket, so I can win and have the free time to do all the stuff I want to do. Le sigh.

C'est la vie.

Anybody who reads this diary more than once is likely to note that I have a deep and abiding love of Rumi and his poetry. The Sufi mystics, their poetry and philosophies, appeal to me generally, but (like bazillions of people around the world, I'm sure) Rumi's work moves me like little else does.

Apparently, there was some big To Do on September 30th (apparently, Rumi's birthday - who knew?) to celebrate the 800th anniversary of his birth. I completely missed it until today. Not only that, but I'm not one for commemorating that sort of thing. I think any day is the perfect day to praise something worthy of praise.

And so, today, I say: Rumi is brilliant and awesome, and his legacy moves me to laughter and tears and sometimes speaks the words I've been trying to express without even realizing I was trying. Whatever it is in me that burns so brightly it hurts sometimes...thinks Rumi would understand that. Here's some Rumi...

Observe the wonders
as they occur around you.
Don’t claim them.
Feel the artistry moving through,
and be silent.


There is a way
of breathing
That’s a shame and a suffocation
And there’s another way of expiring,
A love breath,
That lets you open infinitely.


There is some kiss we want
With our whole lives, the touch
of spirit on the body. Seawater
begs the pearl to break its shell.
And the lily, how passionately
it needs some wild darling!
At night, I open the window and ask
The moon to come and press its
face against mine.
Breathe into me. Close the language door
and open the love-window.
The moon won’t use the door,
only the window.


The minute I heard my first love story,
I started looking for you,
not knowing how blind that was.
Lovers don’t finally meet somewhere,
they’re in each other all along.


My gods, I really do love Rumi. Brilliant.

The Holiday Playlist Begins!

"Maybe This Christmas" - Ron Sexsmith
"Let It Be" - from the "Across the Universe" Soundtrack!
"Not This Year" - Aly & AJ
"Wintersong" - Sarah McLachlan
"I'll Be Home for Christmas" - Harry Connick, Jr.
"Christmas Love" - Billy Idol
"Christmas Time" - The Darkness
"The Christmas Song" - Dave Matthews
"Opera of the Bells" - Destiny's Child
"Children Go Where I Send Thee" - Joan Osborne
"Oi to the World" - No Doubt
"Spotlight on Christmas" - Rufus Wainwright
"Peace" - Norah Jones
"Peace on Earth/Little Drummer Boy" - Bing Crosby & David Bowie
"Merry Xmas Everybody" - Slade

Recent entries...
27 December 2007: 2007: Finis.
17 December 2007: A ruse, a rant, and a poem. It's short.
11 December 2007: Music & falling....story of my life.
08 December 2007: Briefly...ish.
29 November 2007: A poem, a rant, a lesson.