And guess what? It's raining. Big warm globs of the stuff. 's nice.
The Poetry Friday Word for today is RAIN. Feel free to use it in your blog post today, in whatever form drips off your nose and makes your hair look super sexy sexy...story, poem, limerick, barbeque tip, rendition of your favourite Monty Python song, photo of you splashing through puddles wearing just galoshes and a smile....
I'm having video trouble this morning, not finding the things I want. I'm settling with this one from the movie "Purple Rain"...grainy, yes, but no one, and I mean NO ONE can do it better than Morris Day and the Time! Somebody bring me a mirror....
Poetry Friday Word for tomorrow, which I stole from Irrelephant
You know you're a Bad Blogger when you can't even remember your password to sign into the damn thing....
I've been bustin' my proverbial bawls this week getting Well-Known Internet Payment Giant attached to all the work websites, debugging it, retesting it, gloating with a certain pink-tinged sense of pride in my ability to be picky and relentless. And the damn thing...WORKS. What the hell.
I'm now helping plan soccer parties for two different teams (one for this weekend, one for next), scheduling end-of-school-year activities for both kids' classrooms, buying teacher gifts, graduation gifts, Dr. Bronners Peppermint Hemp soap (liquid), and trying to find time during a two-hour free block of time on Friday to get both an oil change AND my hair highlighted.
Or maybe my oil highlighted and my hair changed.
Realizing it was Thursday, I scrambled for the Poetry Friday Word for tomorrow. Came up with nothing. Then I read Irrelephant's latest post and thought, well, THAT'LL work. (I owe you, man. Bill me. Whip me. Make me write bad checks.)
The Poetry Friday Word for Tomorrow is: RAIN
I know we've used it before, but it's a good word, a solid word, and I would also add that if you can use the word RAIN and something about being NAKED, you get bonus points and maybe your name on a virtual plaque somewhere.
Feel free to use the word RAIN in your blog post tomorrow, in whatever fancy-pants way you choose...story, poem, photo, recipe, heavy-breathing phone message, movie quotation, drive-in-theatre remembrance....
There will be NO Poetry Friday this week...it's a holiday weekend, peeps, and I try not to add more stress when y'alls trying to leave town, or leave work, or leave it up to Beaver.
But if'n ya want to, go ahead and Freestyle a Poetry Friday. Points for using the word "Beaver".
I'm in a major time crunch with work. And homework...Boy-child and I had a joint project due for his class today...read a book, write a journal, do a project...d'you know how long it's been since I had to sweat over homework??? The stress, omg, I woke up this morning obsessing how I had to change something on the final project, and did I really remember everything I needed to discuss it in class today with logic and foresight and buckets of wit? Argh.
I leave you today with Galactic. 'Cause they sure got my ass moving this morning.
I was linky-linking this morning through some Pagan-type pages of Wikipedia, and came across one of my most favourite names…Sheela-Na-Gig. Ah, what a comely lass! Sheela-Na-Gig are ancient stone carvings of women displaying…uh…their yoni. Sometimes pulling it open. Sometimes squatting with their hands on their thighs.
And folks put them on churches.
Apparently you can find them all over Europe, and there are various and sundry opinions as to their meaning. Me, I prefer a combination of the “pagan goddess” and that of “fertility symbol”. I mean, c’mon! She’s pulling herself open! Giving birth to the world! How can you fight that?!
One thing I miss about being a citizen of a fairly new country (well, new to my ancestors) is that we have no history of this country to reach far back on and celebrate. My ancestors lived in Europe before jumping the pond to the New World, and they had these stone figures all ‘round in Zee Olde Country. But here? In good ol’ ‘Merica? People can’t stand the site of booby-laden Cosmopolitan magazine in the magazine rack of their local grocery store…let alone stone sculptures of women ripping open their idol holes to let the world get a free peek. How repressed we are. How sad. I think I would have been a good Naked Hippie back in the day.
A scholar posited a male version of the Sheela, which he named Sean-na-Gig. Which is Ithyphallic (which is now my new Favourite Word).
If it wasn’t for local ordinances, and the possibility that families would forbid their children to play with my children, I would love to put both Sheela and Sean on display in my yard…a cunning throwback to garden gnomes, or stone bunnies, and certainly much better than those wooden "women showing their gardening butts" thingies.
After all this, I had to look up the video to my sweet PJ Harvey’s song. I listened to this album of Polly Jeans so many times in the early 90s, I didn’t even have to reach for the lyrics whilst playing it. I love you, Polly Jean. You exhibitionist.
Not much to expound on today, brothers and sisters...but it's Poetry Friday, and the word is LEAN. Feel free to use that word in your blog post today, in whatever form leans its little head on your arm and looks at you with those big brown eyes...story, poem, photo, screenplay, screenshot, screensaver, screendoor....
Today I'm giving you a twist...the same song done in two styles. Bill Wither's version is moving and sweet and makes me a little teary. Club Nouveau's version makes me want to fluff up my 80s hair and go dancing.
Poetry Friday WORD for Today, plus Free Stuff, and moving Graffiti
I’ve changed the Poetry Friday Word for Tomorrow, like, 5 times in my head. It’s just that kind of day. The schizo kind of day.
The left side of my body is in constant pain, thanks to weird sleeping positions (mine, not Sergei's) and a funny thing I’ve caught myself doing at work, this leaning thing, like the Tower of Pisa only with my body (and minus the gift shop at the bottom) The workspace around my computer is on the left side of my screen, and I l-e-a-n over on my left side and rest my body weight on that arm, that shoulder, that elbow. All. Day. Long. I’m convinced this “left side pain” thing isn’t a heart attack, ‘cause I’d be dead by now, and it’s been a constant pain for a couple weeks. I really blame Big Internet Project for the lean. Although the thought of a heart attack at my young age does sort of freak me out.
Based on this and a desire to get this blog post up before I keep changing it to death, the Poetry Friday WORD for Tomorrow is LEAN.
As you smart people know, there’s more than one meaning for this set of letters…M-W says it’s a verb, a noun, an adjective, a transitive verb. Whatev…it’s either something with no fat or something that doesn’t stand upright. Or a movie director.
Feel free to use the word LEAN in your blog post tomorrow, in whatever form rubs soothing scented oil all over you…poem, story, photo, limerick, audio post of your vocal utterances while getting up off the floor from the lotus position….
Now, the Free Stuff.
Today you can get a free iced coffee at Dunkin’ Donuts from 10 a.m. to 10 p.m. No joke. Go!
Today you can also get a free chicken breakfast sandwich at McDonalds from 7 a.m. to 10:30 a.m., PLUS you can get a free Southern Style Chicken Sandwich from 10:30 a.m. to 7 p.m. Both require that you buy a medium or large drink. But FREE chicken. Don’t even think about that fact that their cumulative fat and calories will clog your arteries and add extra poundage. Don't think about it. It's free.
From PopCandy blog comes this...if you have seven minutes to spare, watch it. Stunning. I can't even keep my thoughts together long enough to write a fairly even Poetry Friday offering, and then this guy goes and does this? Dang.
"You got your chemicals? 'Cause we're entering the bedbug zone here."
Last Friday I went with Boy-child's Fifth Grade class to Greenfield Village, near Detroit (or Day-twa, as we like to French-i-fy it). The Village is an outdoor museum created by Henry Ford, he pulled together historical buildings and a giant carousel and plastic injection mold machines that make replicas of Model Ts, and a riverboat, and huge old trains and frozen custard stands, an old farmhouse with a windmill in the back ala Don Quixote, and about a jillion other buildings and attractions. The kids all had a good time. I got a day off work. I couldn't shake the feeling that the people dressed in frontier garb, making candles and meat pies over open kitchen fires, were probably stoned or slightly tipsy, the better to get through the day. (Damn you, Chuck Palahniuk.)
Tomorrow I go with Girl-child's class to a Big Baseball Game. I think I forgot to tell everyone at work. Except the boss, 'cause he writes my checks.
I now have, like, a field trip every week until early June.
On another note, everyone be thinkin' about Irrelephant as he embarks on an exciting adventure.
And oh yeah, I saw "Iron Man" over the weekend, totally recommend, and also "Nim's Island", which has the added benefit of Gerard Butler, who is now on my Fantasy Boyfriend list, what with his pecs and Scottish accent and crooked-mouth-way of talking. Yummy.
Poetry Friday Word for tomorrow is...DOGGY...go see Gary!
My favourite potter in the entire world, Gary, has graciously accepted Poetry Friday duty this week, owing to my scattering schedule and my outage tomorrow. Go see his site immediately! Gary is one groovy artistic dude, a man of skill and grace, a man of major talent, and boy, can he make the cutest clay animals!
The Poetry Friday Word for this Week is: DOGGY.
Use that word in your blog post tomorrow, in whatever form spins its way around your wheel...poem, story, photo, limerick, oral interpretation of obscure 12th century writings, 70s misunderstood rock ballad....
So...so I'm driving to work this morning, it's 5:30 in the fargin' ay-em. The college kids have mostly dispersed for the summer, although a few are still seen doing The Long Walk of Shame home after hooking up with someone-or-other at the bar.
What do I see walking down the sidewalk?
Two Jehovahs Witnesses.
The boys that always walk around with black dress pants, white shirts, and long ties.
"Walking" was not quite the word..."schlepping" is more like it.
It's 5:30 in the morning.
They can't be going to houses, knocking on doors with "Watchtower" tracts in their hands, asking to come in to tell you about a "wondrous hope for the future". Not at that hour.
That's the Poetry Friday Word for the Day. Feel free to use it in your blog post today, in whatever form snaps a wet terry towel at your bare butt...poem, story, photo, recipe for peanut butter fudge....
My head is being crushed by the invisible fingers of Stress, so I must defer to song lyrics. Have a good weekend, y'all!
"I Can't Get Next To You" (The Temptations)
I Can turn a gray sky blue. I can make it rain, whenever I wanted to.Oh, I I can build a castle from a single grain of sand. I can make a ship sail, uh, on dry land. But my life is incomplete and I'm so blue. 'Cause I can't get next to you.
I can't get next to you, babe. (Next to you) I can't get next to you. (I just can't get next you) I can't get next to you, babe. I can't get next to you.
I Can fly like a bird in the sky. Hey, and I can buy anything that money can buy. Oh, I I can turn a river into a raging fire. I can live forever if I so desired. Unimportant are all the things I can do. 'Cause I can't get next to you.
I can't get next to you, babe. (No matter what I do) I can't get next to you.Uh-ya
I can turn back the hands of time, you better believe I can.I I can make the seasons change, just by waving my hand.Oh, I I can change anything from old to new. The things I want to do the most, I'm unable to do. Unhappy am I with all the powers I possess. 'Cause girl you're the key to my happiness. And I Can't get next to you.
Girl, you're blowing my mind 'cause I can't get...(Next to you) Can't you see these tears I'm crying? I can't get... (Next to you) Girl, it's you that I need. I gotta get...(Next to you) Can't you see these tears I'm crying? I can't get... (Next to you) I, I, I, I... I can't get...(Next to you) I, I, I, I... I can't get...(Next to you) Girl, you're blowing my mind...
I'm mired in a miasma of work projects, and the Night Operator Guy is trying to find me.
Quickly, and with little fanfare, the Poetry Friday WORD for tomorrow is a sound...that's also several words...I...EYE...AYE.
I. EYE. AYE.
Feel free to use any variation of this genius phonetic sound in your blog post tomorrow, in whatever flavor tints yer tongue...story, poem, photo, air guitar solo, haiku, vitamin-enriched-protein-packed-morsel, selection of socks from your drawer....