— this is really happening

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February, 2008 Monthly archive

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My very first keychain was a little California street sign. Given to me by an aunt or an uncle, most likely purchased at an airport, the green tin with the white letters and the round key loop read, MONICA STREET, and it held my very important locket key (the only key I had for the first twelve years of life). My keychain hung on a little nail above my third grade bedside, and there it stayed until it was later replaced by a "New Kids On The Block" poster (since we’re being honest). But as you’d suspect, as the years have passed I have always wondered if some day I might find the real live California street sign, for a real live street called Monica Way. Friends, it only took me thirty years, but my elevator doors just opened and guess what? I found it. Anyone want to drive to Placerville?

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LOGICAL AWESOME
My Codes Are Perfect

(I’m a big nerd. I find this very funny.)  😎

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Claudy makes fun of me for watching "film." She says, "Moni likes fiiilm," putting snooty, Brit stress on the word. But of course, I know she watches Entertainment Tonight religiously, and will on occasion be seen watching a "movie" herself, it’s just that I watch "film," and I think she knows there’s a difference.

I don’t want to get too caught up in vernacular, especially pretentious distinctions between this and that, but to me, that word "film" for movies, like "literature" for books, tells you I’m serious. Films are part of my pudding. I don’t go a week without watching at least one. I study humanity through them, and I study topics, too. Something happens on the planet and I wait patiently for a film to emerge to teach me about the complexity of the event, how that event felt, and what really happened. I use film to travel the world, get stretched, and return home with wider eyes. It’s a lifestyle. Nay, it’s a pleasure.

It’s no surprise that I see a lot of shruggable films then. Most of them are in this category. Chop chop cookie cutters. Maybe this one has excellent dialog, another stuns with cinematography, score, art direction, costumes, ooh and how about the sound editing on Bourne Ultimatum (yeah!). Ah and let us all have a moment of silence for each and every Key Grip that ever was. But most of the time, it all comes together and it’s essentially similar to most films that came before. However, inside this library of similarity, every five years of weekly rentals, comes a glittering reel that shoots off the shelves (or out of the little red envelope) and into the player, and it’s like Wonka’s Golden Ticket. Watching it, all the me’s I’ve ever been, all my ages, all the sheit movies I’ve watched, I feel it all at once. I am transported to an unbeknownst place, and I, as a friend said, "forget to breathe." I am handed myself, humanity, god, everything on a 2 hour and forty-eight minute platter of contemplation that I hope will never end. There Will Be Blood is that kind of movie. Nuff said. Get out. Find it. Do it. Hell yes. Oil!

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My Dad used to say, "You can never praise a kid too much." Absolutely. Tell me how great I am, and then tell me again. One more time please. I won’t tire. It was a beautiful hour in elementary school to head home on v-day with 45 little valentines each folded and scribbled with silly boy and girl handwriting. Especially reading a valentine from someone you were crushing on, swearing that inside that "Hang in there, Valentine" card depicting a cartoon kitten dangling from a tree, was in fact, a true testament of love.

There’s not much that scrambles my eggs about Valentine’s Day. My other single friends and I are quite certain it’s a big capitalist creation anyhow. Gawd. But, it’s cute enough. Sure, in a chalky yellow, pink, or pastel green candied heart beat I could drum up a massive social discourse about it and the system or regime that encourages spending, and that here even Love itself is commodified, but that story sounds bleaker than I’d like to be right now. Celebrating Love is a good idea. Let’s focus on that.

This Valentine’s Day, I had me a fine date. My supremely lovely friend Canary held my arm for the duration of the evening. She even wore a stunning red and white dress. But guess what? We got in a big fight.

PILLOW FIGHT 5000! Yes, five thousand pillow-toting fools, single and hitched alike, all converged in Justin Herman Plaza in San Francisco. As the clock struck 6pm, the beating began.

A few noted thoughts:

1) Flirting takes on a whole new meaning when it involves a pillow.
2) There are many ways to take a swing at another. A soft pat on the head, a steel train railroad bash, a tinkerbell kiss on the nose, a running gallop bumper car shove, it’s all fair game.
3) Feathers are best when they remain outside the lungs.
4) Snow in San Francisco is possible!
5) High school girls are great targets.
6) Decide who in your vicinity is the largest threat and scream out that everyone should, "Get that guy!!!"
7) However tired you are, do not lay down and sleep on your pillow during a 5000 person pillow fight. This should be self-explanatory, but you’d be surprised.
8) The founders of this event are wise and gracious. Placing an open-invitation, city-wide, outdoor Pillow Fight annually on Valentine’s Day finally removes the exclusivity of the day, giving the celebratiion of Love back to all people. Together.

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I make repeat offenses spelling and grammer. When typing I sometimes forget include entire words, believing they made it in on the first swing the sentence. Then in review, I discover a missing "and," "me," or "to." If I had to guess, it’s the prepositions verbs that the shaft most often, and occasional conjunction, too. As indicated in one of the earliest posts on this blog however, there may only be one word in the universe afterall, so aside from brief tickle with failure the deprived sentence, I’m morally clear. Thank.

Bagle @ .80
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In Colonial times, they used different letters for things, maybe.
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These’ll put a spring in your step.
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