Saturday, August 27, 2016

Today for the very first time in ever Little Bear came out to the living room while I was watching the 2006 remake of The Omen and demanded that I lift him up onto my lap for some kitty love. He still cannot jump and probably will never jump and he is too huge as in tall (he's still skinny as hell but he has a pot belly now!) to fit on my lap but he put his back legs on my back legs and his paws on my chest where he kneaded and kneaded and kneaded and I began to lactate so kneaded were my perkies. Not really. But I am full of love holes. He stayed there purring for over an hour until The Evil Orlando came out got jealous jumped up on the coffee table declared her everlasting adoration of me the liar and hissed at Little Bear who slooped off my lap and loped away into my room. His gait is awkward and gorgeous. I felt so honored that Little Bear would make the long trek from my room to the next room. He is going to be outstanding in his new house!

The remake of The Omen is exactly the same as the original The Omen frame by frame. Only the music is different (but excellent) and the whickwhickwhicking of giant bat wings in the distance sound that used to be Damien's leitmotif was taken out which kind of made me sad because I always used that noise around The Surfer when he was being naughty. Other than that it was thoroughly enjoyable and the addition of Mia Farrow as the Satanic nanny was brilliant and of course meta.

Meta is such a literary hipster term that I am rather ashamed I used it but there you go.

I had to drive to the fake fake doctor nurse this morning to give more blood because I believe she totally fucked up my thyroid meds. My thyroid has not worked for 30 years and I've taken the same wee amount of levothyroxine for 30 years with perfect results and she ups and decides to increase it by half. Dumbass. I think this may be the reason I've been so tired the past few weeks. I have never been this tired ever in my life and yes I have had a lot going on but I've always been an extremely high energy person. Now I can barely turn over in bed.

On my way to fake fake doctor nurse I passed The Junction which is now a coffee shop inhabited by the people who use the methadone clinic on Wednesdays and Saturdays. I always see the inhabitants lolling about outside. I think they hold AA and NA meetings there at least I hope they do. The funny/not/funny thing about The Junction is that it used to be a strip club called Sugars and my friend Cathy St. Augustine used to be a dancer there and she told me that the owner kept paying the girls in cocaine instead of money to keep them there to keep the drugs rolling through the house. The last time I saw Cathy she had two black eyes and she gave me her childrens' birth certificates because she was afraid that someone was going to kill her. I still have them. This was when The Surfer was just six months old.

The reason I can spot the methadone clinics and inhabitants when I see them is because when I was first divorced and lived in Rat City aka West Seattle in the creepy duplex a girl named Candy and her boyfriend slash pimp slash biker named Gaylord moved into the apartment attached to mine. Candy and I became friends. She was a prostitute and worked part time as a maid for rich women and she'd steal their fancy shoes then return them to Nordstrom for cash. Nordstrom was famous in those days for their easypeasy return policies. Every Saturday Candy had me drive her to this place so she could get something something I can't remember what I had to take her but I didn't mind. It took her a year to tell me I was taking her to get methadone. I never judged her for being a prostitute slash maid slash thief I don't know why she thought I'd judge her for being on methadone or anything else. Her father was a famous senator a big wig in Washington D.C. He still is. The last time I saw Candy she was begging on the freeway near my house when I drove home from the factory. We waved at each other then I never saw her again either.

SIDE NOTE: I will never judge you for any of your addictions. Never. Ever.

I am tired tired tired of this all of this darkness and crime and sadness and poverty and danger.

I can't wait for December.

Hello Darklings. It is Christmas in my head all the time now.


Friday, August 26, 2016

I have always found it rather gauche when people post photos of their meals in restaurants. Especially when I was hungry all the time. That being said here is a photo of the sour cream cheesecake with a fresh blueberry compote that I ate my first night in NY.

I bought this fairy door to place in my favorite tree in my forest once I discover it so the wee folk can come and go as they please and in case a child walks through the forest. Imagine your child-self finding such pure magic!

August sunset NYC

it's been a long time coming

listening to CS&N dancing and singing and making a mess of guacamole for The Surfer to take to a birthday party tonight

I am so happy I fear my spirit will fly right up and out of my body

"The Best Hot Dog in New York"
Photo by Page Loudon
yesterday I went to the Evergreen State Fair and I was so happy there I talked to chickens and geese and ducklings and beautiful white turkeys and bunnies and goats and sheep and I admired the canned goods and quilts and pies and I ate a Fisher Fair Scone and half a piroshky and I had a small glass of lemonade and a giant bottle of water and I walked through the barkers' tents and bought a gallon Tupperware bowl (this was thrilling I didn't even know they still made Tupperware!!!) but mostly I stayed with the horses because that is what I do

I got to the fair early right when the gates opened it was hot and the vendors were still setting up I saw a small boy with a dangerously pointed long stick with some kind of food on it and I asked him what it was and he said a yard of bacon  which it was quite literally I also saw a pile of curly fries bigger than my head and deep fried Twinkies and all manner of meats including kangaroo jerky

Good morning Darklings
I wasn't able to go to the fair last year as I couldn't afford to drive there and also my car wasn't working I felt so joyful yesterday as the people rivered in and the sun rose hot and high and I came home and packed one box then another box I'm stacking the boxes next to the piano

So far I have bought 4 towels for me and 4 towels for my son and one set of sheets for me I don't have a single sheet without holes

Soon soon soon oh I am excited tired still but I'm thinking now that my tired actually might be relaxed which I'm not at all used to

Onward and Upward!

Wednesday, August 24, 2016




Tuesday, August 23, 2016

after my weepy mess which alarmed Little Bear to the point of true animal panic and caused him to crawl on my belly and put his face against my face to find out what the heck was happening my son recanted and we went out to dinner to celebrate one of my life's biggest moments

I also bought three pillows for a sofa I don't own and Christmas cards for everyone I know and that means you and you and you

I feel amazing now and I'm trying to imagine what color sofa would go well with that deep blue carpet of course my first thought was black and white stripes but I don't really want a French interior I want a fishing cabin interior like my grandfather's boat house on Lake Pend Oreille in Idaho a look I adore in my weird way

for now pretend shopping and dreaming

and also massive belching and rolling about on the floor too much food too much goodness too much too much all in one day

good night Darklings!
It's done.

I told my son I really needed to celebrate and he doesn't get it.

This is what happens when you only have one friend in the meat world who lives near you and she ups and moves to Japan and you can't even call her because it's the middle of tomorrow night there.

And so I cried.

Why are you crying? he asked.

Because I need to celebrate and I have no one to celebrate with and you don't like Indian food and you don't want Mexican food and blah blah blah and etc.

My pancreas says JUST SAY NO TO ALCOHOL FOR THE REST OF YOUR LIFE so it's up to me and so I put a sweater on over my dress and I'm here alone crying.

I hope part of it is relief. I have lived in horrible tiny shitty run-down rentals my life entire and on December first I will move into a place of beauty and tremendous nature. Maybe partly my tears and this terrible sadness is the giving up of my past letting go and mentally preparing to move on to a gold future.

Maybe it's just my fucking crazy.

Going to bed to cry some more which is no kind of celebration.

Leaving in 45 minutes to go buy me a house and a wee forest.
I can hardly breathe inside the joy of it.
When I get back I will be better.
Love to you my Darklings for sticking around for this crazy ride.

Monday, August 22, 2016

I bought a rare book plate from this man at Pageant Print Shop on 69 E. 4th in The Bowery. He had a rich melodious thickly accented voice and a wonderful personality. The Surfer took these photos of him looking for some original Gregorian chants to show me and then holding my plate but the man and I had an hour long conversation about all things NY including rent control and the fact that he desperately wants to be an actor and he described in detail how Woody Allen used his shop as a backdrop for the film Hannah and Her Sisters. The print of course is insect in nature and will be framed and hung in the library of my new house.

I am too tired to write much more. Our flight got delayed and we arrived home early this morning instead of at 9: PM. At one point I leaned forward and fell asleep and my tray was not in the upright and locked position and it fell on my face smashing my glasses into my nose but fortunately not blacking both my eyes as I am signing on my house tomorrow morning.

Love from Seattle.

Sunday, August 21, 2016

Walking all around the East Village early this morning in light rain was incredible. The junkies and crazies the men sweeping the streets the women sweeping their stoops and beautiful people walking their dogs felt like home to me. Thanks to my uncle and my grandfather I believe I've walked over every inch of this city in the past 50 years. So far this neighborhood is my favorite as it was on 1969 when I spent a great deal of time there.

Love from Moishe's Kosher Bake Shop serving the most delicious pastries on the planet.

checking out at high noon I want to leave and I never want to leave this always happens at the end of the best trips anxious to see my animal family to finish all the stressful house business to get to my desk and start writing my memories of this week to eat my own cooking to have time to think we went back to St. Patrick's yesterday and there was a wedding just leaving the church as mass continued the organ booming to shake my bones

our cab driver swung by a street vendor who was selling little bags of mixed nuts then he gave me a bag and told me to eat them

our cab driver never spoke because he had his prayer beads in his mouth

our cab driver kept throwing his hands in the air when he wasn't honking

our cab driver told us what happened to him on 9-11 his brother died there

our cab driver was 23 years old and he dreams of moving to Seattle

there was a party on the roof across the street last night I woke at 4 this morning I'm surprised the party isn't still happening

yesterday I opened the door of the mini bar where I've been stashing fresh fruit that I've bought throughout the neighborhoods and the door came off in my hand and left a purplish bruise

yesterday I ate hummus from a place in Saint Marks Square that had the most incredible thinly sliced pickled turnips in it

I was blessed by a priest at One World Trade Center he simply held my hand and said Bless you child this is important

I bought a tacky Statue of Liberty with a clock in her stomach

I bought pastries at The Magnolia Bakery at Grand Central Station and gave them all to the remarkable staff here at The Standard

still vibrating from the reading at the KGB Bar I sure hope I get invited back to read again

this morning raw no makeup (I rarely wear makeup) at dawn after my blow out had a blow out whose eyes whose eyes are those pupils dilated with all I have seen

waiting for The  Surfer to wake so we can walk down the street for coffee and bagels at Ray's

Saturday, August 20, 2016

Good morning Darklings. I had such a tremendous day yesterday but I can't quite write about it as this city overwhelms me in the very most best ways

Of all the outstanding and amazing things that I saw yesterday the most remarkable and moving and emotional was looking across the KGB Bar and seeing Angella Lister. My heart flew up into my eyebulbs and I swooped down upon her and could not stop  hugging her. She is stunning and smart and gorgeous  the epitome of a true New Yorker -- self assured warm classy intense intelligent and lovely. I was so comfortable in her presence that I did not want to leave her side (I am never comfortable with anyone this is so rare) she is just purely human and loving and adorable.

I will write further on this but I'm just waking up with the moon Page has gone on a coffee run for us and I'm watching the yet unnamed moon float in the sky above the bridge. Though I will say without a shred of modesty that I made that reading mine in spite of my earlier fears and trepidation.

I love this city so damned much.

On to Grand Central Station this morning and then my wild adventure will unfold.

Friday, August 19, 2016

I have never been afraid to read. I am terrified about my reading tonight. I'm getting a blowout today at three. I have never had a blowout in my life. Except for in my car.

Thank you Paige concierge extraordinaire for making this journey so incredibly easy.

I went to One World Trade Center and wept and got blessed by a priest.

I am blessed.

The priests all of them have my number.

I love you Darklings.

Thursday, August 18, 2016

New York

I want to write about everything but for now i'm just soaking it in. I had the most amazing dinner last night but only slept three hours. I really never sleep here. Now it's warm and raining lightly and I'm watching the city wake up. I can see the Empire State Building and the Brooklyn Bridge from this room on the 17th floor with its floor to ceiling windows.

We took a walk through Little Tokyo last night and I bought a white linen dress and two Tibetan mala bracelets from an elderly man who told me that I love you can be the best mantra ever and then we talked about the money hum and I showed him my lotus tattoo and we talked about the meaning of the lotus. After when we were walking back to the hotel I gave some money to a very tall homeless man with one good eye and one eye covered with a cataract and he held my hand for a while and stared into the depth of my being for a long time then high fived me and I had to jump up to reach his hand and he hooted with pleasure or joy or both and I vibrated all night from the holy encounter.

Time for coffee if I can find some.
Good morning from the city of my dreams.

A crappy Kindle photo of the city right now from my soft downy bed.

Tuesday, August 16, 2016

I just finished signing and emailing the scanned pages of the closing documents to the escrow agent. It took me over an hour and was agonizing and I found myself wishing for someone anyone to sit at my side and help. No one appeared of course as The Surfer is out getting us dinner. Though grueling it was no where near as complicated as trying to get my pension from Boeing. That was 935 pages of over and over and over legalese.

I still haven't packed.

I leave in ten hours.

May the Animal Gods smile on us all.

I so want to write to you all answer all your comments (and I will I promise) but my damn head is so full entirely full it doesn't even slosh around it is like a block of cement in there I haven't even packed for NY yet (except to swap out my old K Mart purse for my fancyass bag and throw my poems in there) even though I leave tonight/tomorrow morning at 3:30 and I'm not even worried about it which is in itself worrisome. I spent three hours on the island yesterday while they did the house inspection the only thing they found was a soft spot on the roof and the sellers are fixing it I wandered into the woods and found pine trees and western red cedar trees and madronas and paper birches and garry oaks and Douglas firs and shore pines and western white pines and a galaxy of trees whose names I have yet to discover and I didn't even get that far into the forest there are four madronas alone close to the house and a wee Japanese maple and soon soon soon there will be a fig tree and a deep purple lilac and maybe a magnolia.

The pantry in that kitchen is the size of the kitchen I use now.

The slumlord's dogsbodies are here pounding on the roof I wonder if they are suspicious of me all giggly answering the door which never ever happens. It just cracks me up. He finally gets around to it. BWAHAHAHAHAHA!

I need to pack and I have yet to even make a list.

Rebecca Cement Head

ps. If you don't live around here (the Pacific NW) then you probably don't know madronas since they are native to us here is how they look right now

Sunday, August 14, 2016

I'm eating steamed root vegetable tacos with peanut sauce and vegan kimchi.
No one else in this house will touch it not even Orlando who eats her own puke and whatever drops on the kitchen floor and also Christmas ornaments.

I went to the M-A-DOUBLE-HOCKEY-STICKS for the second time in 17 years and bought a grown up purse bag and wallet and a pair of Calvin Klein™ peach and white stripey shorts all of these things were half off. Good time to shop at Macys!

Alice would be so proud of me if she weren't still asleep in Japan.

I feel so ... ADULT!!!!!
Dear Darklings,

This is to let you know that you can raise a child by yourself put him through an expensive private school while you toil away in a factory building airplanes then put him through an expensive college while you toil away in a factory still building airplanes then lose your job and become too poor to buy food or even shoes for your crushed foot much less a decent mattress then spend years paying off your hospital and psychiatrist bills and exorbitant rent and vet bills for your beloveds and live well below the poverty line with no help from family or anyone only the kindness of people you have never even met (and you dear friends know who you are you kept me afloat) and lose your insurance and your car breaks down and you have a credit score of minus eleven then turn everything around. All those years toiling away paid off eventually. My credit score now is immaculate and I have a new car and a new house soon to be a new home. And while I agreed to wait three months to move so the family now in the house can find a place for themselves they will be paying my rent here (! I am a landlord for the first time in my life !) for those three months. Ever always believe that you can turn everything around. Believe. And until you can I will believe for you.

Camano Island is the tenth community in the nation certified as a Community Wildlife Habitat by the National Wildlife Federation. Join us in striving to keep Camano Island a wildlife friendly island and to create, preserve, enhance, and restore wildlife habitat by providing food, water, shelter, and a place to raise young.

You can tell I didn't write that because it has punctuation in it. It's pretty awesome though. Also my head looks like this right now after ten hours sleep the first sleep I've had all week.

Also I can't stop dancing and the curtains are open. Sorry neighbors who will soon be distant memories.

It could be an angel stuck in the left side of my head. Or a gigantic lightning bug.

Friday, August 12, 2016

Dearest Darklings,

I am going to answer each and every one of you soon as soon as my head stops spinning around the best kind of spinning. I can barely breathe for the excitement. It is hot here so I can prepare for NY on Wednesday so tonight I'll get back to the computer. I'd just like to say that I did this myself with no patriarchy breathing on my little pen my own fortitude and stick-to-it-ness no mansplaining no help me and myself alone. Women unite!!! I went from true poverty to owning a house in less than a year. I am strong and fully formed and so happy all I can do is squeak and hope dinner wanders along here soon.

Rebecca An Unmarried Person

Thursday, August 11, 2016

I bought a house today.
It is on two and a quarter acres of old growth forest on Camano Island which is right next door to Whidbey Island on Possession Bay and it is naturally surrounded by water which is my dream.
It has three bedrooms and two bathrooms and a forest for a back yard.
I will move in on December 1st and this year I will have a tree.
And a fire!
I feel like a grown up.
I want to run around now I need to run around and scream with joy.

I've already named the house of course.
Here are some photos the house the kitchen the deck which is huge (and right outside the kitchen door!) and looks out on the forest the living room with its hideous orange paint (not a problem an easy fix) and the deck again and the master bathroom which I already love deeply. Oh joy joy joy.

Summer's End

gratuitous photo of Little Bear partying it up in a mess of catnip after having successfully captured a feather with a bell on it

he's still tiny but he's huge too check out those paws! and they are swift I am full of holes to prove it

My head is spinning around like Linda Blair's in The Exorcist
But not in a vomity way though close it's goodness I'm hoping for waiting for
I want to write it but that might jinx everything
I will know more this week
It is well it is well with my soul

Meanwhile back at the ranch I woke at 3:30 AM and made this peach pie with peaches from my son's orchard

It makes me bonkers when people are coy on their blogs which is why I haven't written lately
I've been driving a lot a lot and I've been on the phone a lot I've lit candles all over my house and from this you must draw your inconclusions

soon soon

While we wait enjoy a slice-a pie Darklings

Nerve Factory


You knew it the night you stuttered
                   god's own sump pump
wanted night club hair a dresser a maid
an astronaut                   you bet your ass

Easier to be his lover
than his wife and therefore
already abandoned

I'll be drinking tonight
What does it mean
lungfish split against the pilings
Here's salt in your eye


Sheer red panties tied at the hip
cat swallows the ribbon whole
I worshipped you for an entire summer


Sugar swims in my belly
sugarfish          sugarfish
crystals form on a string & cut
they cut
don't let anyone tell you different

                   I can't eat
                   I've stopped eating


Let's meet in noodle town
Let's work it out

it is the season
of dogs & adolescent wolves
the voice your telephone insists
your fingertips


A loaded crossbow

Saturday, August 6, 2016

I'm going to the farmers market to buy stuff to make lumpia and I'm vaguely stoned.

Friday, August 5, 2016

No, Enid. I was not eaten by a shark.

Boardwalk art, Newport, Oregon.

Sunday, July 31, 2016

the sky in Newport Oregon just three minutes ago

I think I am the first one up so far the sky is pink and blue and pink and just seconds ago it was a wall of fog yesterday I bought raspberries and strawberries at the little farmers market and walked up and down the boardwalk and later I had a Greek salad at the panini bakery and I ate about three bites of it and waited and did not die (my first salad in weeks my first fresh vegetables in weeks) nor did my stomach reject it or eject it rather which means my ulcers are healing I went to the surf shop and bought some truly excellent sandals to replace the flip-flops — or as we used to call them ‘thongs’ — that I wear pretty much year around then last night I started getting anxious and paranoid about my house because no one who has my phone number or lives near me could call if the house for instance burst into flames or any of the other number of disasters that I vividly imagine when my brain skews sideways (mostly robbers) I finally fell asleep then at midnight I woke to loud loud cannons and I opened my eyes and the sky was full of the most spectacular fireworks honest to Betsy huge 4th of July fireworks stars exploding over the surf BOOM then giant red flowers blooming and falling it went on for about an hour enchanting

I’m drinking hotel coffee which is hideous which is supposed to be hideous and I’m about to hit the breakfast buffet stock up for today and for the trip home tomorrow

I’m sleeping on the beach tonight which fills me with joy

good morning Darklings 

Saturday, July 30, 2016

good morning Darklings
there is so much I want to tell you but the internet connection here on the edge is iffy if it is at all
it was 97 degrees yesterday driving through central Oregon but Sweet Lime was delicious in her smooth ride and air conditioning I saw one dead fawn on the side of the road and I counted 30 eagles but stopped counting after that
I sang until I was hoarse
The Surfer bought me dinner at Mazatlan which has a cheesy website but the most amazing food most of which I brought back to the hotel and crammed into the tiny fridge though remnants of our previous altercation lingered over the meal but that's okay he's gone into the surf slipped into his wetsuit and dawn and headed for the beach
70 mph winds expected today
I brought popcorn for the seagulls which is illegal but I like to live dangerously

I am so happy here right now in this moment
I took that sunset photo from the balcony last night

*checking in from The Elizabeth Street Inn  on the wild Oregon coast not a single worry in sight

Thursday, July 28, 2016

all I can think about is getting into Sweet Lime and getting the hell out of the city nownownow although I am making a tiny potato salad (two potatoes two eggs my own damn pickles no onions a bit of mayo a bit of fancypants mustard and curry powder from The Souk) very basic I needed to get all the food out of the stripper fridge because who knows when it is going to die a loud and terrible and stinky death?

tomorrow by this time I'll be lounging in an actual hotel room right on the beach a hotel room that offers a rather extensive breakfast things like English muffins and off-brand corn flakes and Bisquick waffles and hopefully some oranges or something that I can put in my pockets but not having to buy breakfast is HUGE I will take my peanut butter with me and buy bread there and everything else is cake (literally I am praying for cake yes I am a cake deviant)

kitty is going to My Darling Veterinarian who btw is in this video at 1 minute and 13 seconds in then at the end posing with his contrabassoon it's worth seeing and yes I know everyone in that band and yes I still have a gigantic crush on him and yes he's still married


in other news I'm already packed
in other other news a Robert August™ longboard is strapped to the roof of Sweet Lime
in other other other news I believe that if my stomach would stop hurting I could write a novel in two weeks maybe three definitely in a month

happy almost tomorrow Darklings

Wednesday, July 27, 2016

light burns in our bodies and threatens to dissolve us at any moment
~Sexing the Cherry, Jeanette Winterson

2 days.

Tuesday, July 26, 2016

3 days until my 63rd birthday am I groveling and weeping and hobbling about and feeling sorry for me and considering adult diapers so I don't have to leave my bedroom and counting my wrinkles and dips and nooks and crannies and slurries and bumps and creaks am I worried about anything? No. I am not.


I got lost in Gold Bar and ended up in a gorgeous state park then ended up on a dirt road in said gorgeous state park then I ended up at a ranch and then I ended up riding a horse for one hour for $45 but I got to be by myself and it was breath


how did that even happen?



this morning there were figs at the Duck Blood store and I bought a basket but not until I knocked over three other baskets and picked out all the firm ones for my basket because as much as I love the Duck Blood store they tend to hide their crappy produce under their firm produce in those little baskets and when it comes to figs well you know...religion


I rode for ONE HOUR!!! on a horse named Bucky and he did not buck but he was swift into the forest and out of the forest and along the river for a while and after my knees did not hurt not one bit and my body was happy (muscle memory) and my clothes smelled of leather and sun and hot sweet breath

what a birthday present!


yesterday I had to see DOGNURSE as per our "agreement" I got in and out as quick as I could and after I felt my orchids ulcers getting all awake and screamy


I am feeling that old July urge to get the fuck out of Dodge which I will be doing in three days just like Jesus

my aged cat
never left my side ever
I slept on feathers
crossed my Ts clean as a fishwife
the moment in which he rose up

curtains drawn tight
I was not afraid of solitude but reckless pursuit
neckties guns in the temple
the low dome last week’s rent

drew out the lining the ache in my side
that proved resolve

men rode motorcycles up and down the street
pounded my door demanded open up
demanded money my lace slip
honey-bit hair

Russian girls in the cafeteria
argued over the napkin dispensers
too full too full too full
cooed like release doves
lacking a center

what did my neighbor hear
headboard hitting the wall
that faced her kitchen
obsessive tooth brushing

I’m not nostalgic
for the parasite the waterworm
there was nothing left to talk about

stuffed with fruit
apples and sandwiches
the mokrie dela
disappeared from automats
turn and slide the plastic door
or the washateria
the Laundra in Newport
Loadstar Dryers coin tumble

in fact I thought about sipping a cap full of Pine-Sol
every day
orbiting sensors in my bed
gossiping bodies at night
target practice on Thursdays in Dallas

go ahead tell me about the white capped angel
of terror and desire
I am mindless no belief in angels barely sentient immobile and singular. It's Sunday. I can hear the veins of the rational world. Sometimes everyone in a dream is also dreaming. The milk hour. The gaunt hour. The childrens' hour. I need to dream around the planetary tides. Here on the border everything is exposed malignant blind without direction. Someone is walking in the river measuring our attention the contrails of dreams the complicated earth instead of the one we love.

Sunday, July 24, 2016

5 days until my birthday my Mr. Coffee™  coffee pot broke this morning but it made all my coffee taste like shit anyway so I am using the little ceramic Melita coffee filter that someone sent me I don't know who sent it or how to thank them for saving my beans this morning


5 days until my birthday and this morning I'm going to go look at a house in Gold Bar which is at the edge of the earth no matter how you shake it

5 days until my birthday and my ulcer ridden stomach has allowed me coffee for the past 2 days which is a bit of a miracle

5 days until my birthday and it's cool and breezy and hot at night and I have a cat who adores me and a cat who tolerates me and Sweet Lime to take me wherever I want to go and a vacation in 5 days

this isn't much as far as writing goes but I have a plan and a banana in my purse for sustenance

mockingbird wish me luck!

Friday, July 22, 2016

Sometimes a poem can be so excruciatingly gorgeous that it terrifies me. I have to go at it one word one phrase at a time or I think my head or my heart will explode with the beauty of it. Maybe that's what makes one person a poet and another person not a poet. Not Emily Dickinson's dainty little wafting of neck hairs but a heart pounding slug into a new universe.
The Surfer is home because I told him he could go to Newport with me because of well the surf then I told him he had to take me to dinner on my birthday and the only place open there at night is the Mexican restaurant open and delicious! and The Surfer whined I don't like Mexican food I'll just watch you eat and  I'll drink water

and I blew up but the worst kind of blowing up which is when I decline to speak to him at all

ever again

he has pulled the  I don't like [insert whatever you can think of here] food I'll just watch you eat and I'll drink water before and it is really rude and makes me feel like shit

so I will take him and his surfboard and his tent with me to Newport then he's on his own


in other news I got in a freakish stress cooking panic and I made veggie burgers with brown lentils and etc and I made soup and I cut up some tofu and I'm marinating it and I made peanut sauce to have with the tofu that kind of cooking too much food too much everything


Little Bear smells like perfume he is fastidious and cleans his entire body every time he eats even if he only eats a bite and his natural smell is perfume I told him today that he smelled like an angel's butt and he really liked it

I only wanted two things this year enough money for food and a kitty

thank you universe for this bounty

here is Little Bear looking rather regal and you can get an idea how tall he is

and here I am hanging out in our shared safe place in my orange and pink skirt which is very twirly if I am in a mood to twirl which I am not today not one bit

I have had so much on my mind these past couple of days switching everything around upside down and sideways now that summer camp is back on planning for NY as well (3 weeks?!?!?) I went to the MA-DOUBLE-HOCKEY-STICKS to buy some fancy fake tan for my pasty girl legs and while I was on my way there I talked to Candace the little blonde girl who is homeless who works the corner of Northgate Way and Roosevelt. I told her about being homeless and she said she was in her second of year of it and she said how did you survive and I told her that we children who were homeless gathered together and eventually when it got cold we broke into a derelict house and squatted there until the freezing temperatures passed she said they do the same thing now they kids all know each other and I held her hand for a while and she cried and I gave her all my MA-DOUBLE-HOCKEY-STICKS cash enough for her to float easy for a couple of days a few meals I told her that my son and I keep an eye out for her boyfriend and her that we watch over them and make sure they're where they're supposed to be

I don't mind being a pasty pasty girl

I got the Fleet app which is a very cool app and my flight is correct on it dates comings and goings I've called the hotel in NY twice to make sure my reservations aren't going to disappear (I find you have a much better chance on a good room if you make yourself known and are nice and tip) I have booked another room for Little Bear at my beloved vet (this will make two vacations for Little Bear though I don't think he will be as excited as I am but he has to still eat his $90 a case fancy kitty food and I can't leave it out in the house or it will spoil) and this morning I called the Airport Shuttle and booked a car to pick us up at 3:30 in the morning easy for me not so easy for The Surfer


I get my hair cut four days before I leave next week I see my eleventy doctors (I thought it was this week I am time and date challenged even though it's on my phone and my watch and the giant calendar in my room) and I have to get my poems together and start practicing

I want to pack but I have to pack for Newport which is no chore as I am a light packer and travel is always easy for me I already made the changes to my mail delivery service I'm waiting for to deliver the next round of Little Bear's food so it doesn't show up on my porch and get stolen by the criminals who run this place

I haven't read in public since Dartmouth in 2013 the reading announcement that went out to the campus and alumni association is up top they just grabbed the photo from the flat blue world a photo my son took which I love though I could have sent them a court serioso photo that makes me look like A Real Writer With Actual Human Hair still it's better than their first attempt which was a photo lifted from the flat blue world of a completely different Rebecca Loudon an actress in London no worries there I just need to time myself and get back into the swing my reading at Dartmouth was spectacular and full of fire and I expect the same will happen in NY also curious to see whose photo they use on their poster


I have to go to the beach now then make a shitload of lists

good morning Darklings! I've been following the weather in NY to see how hot it will be when I get there the last time I was there in 2014 it was winter but I've been in that city in August something one doesn't forget this is from my phone on Wednesday definitely hotter than I remember also Siri lies

Tuesday, July 19, 2016

thanks to an HONEST TO BOG BABY JESUS MIRACLE my trip to the Oregon coast is back on I will be leaving on my birthday just hotdiggitydot!!!


still of course going to NY in August but that is work not vacation the coast any coast is pure vacation

and for all of this to come about on the third anniversary to the day that I lost my asshole job at The Big Airplane Company well that is just some sugar on it that's what what

Thank you dear benefactor angel and thank you the very best vet who is going to care for Mignonette as they already know and love him

*dances around*

*dances around some more*

The reptile monarchies

your wives in a row cows in a row leak
milk into iron buckets have grown sleek
have scalded our nipples
have electric hair

fuchsia inside the salmon's mouth dogs joyous in the creek dogs ate chum joyous in the creek broke the trittica moon

water behaving as fire
froze to death in a railroad station
DO NOT CALL Christ with the pleading already
it's an earwig wedding

Tom Blue Tom Blue blue Nova
let's get raw tomtom tomcat tomblue
drunk all the time black and blue blond and blue
shhh now I told you

one more minute in that house with the goat
the empty upstairs room the window-seat
you shot speed drew naked girls at night
with a ball point pen
I was not the pouch you needed
had it out with your brother I did I did
do you still want to know how it was

all that's up top is mindless root-hog clutter

what mysterious assemblage was created I fled polished beveled I was not like your other wives keening nickering this meant nothing David/Goliath swinging your sling simply a mid-flight chase a brief place between toxic and beauty I carved it with my knife felt it in the rocks the creek my hair drifted on the fire's current my strong arms dug postholes in that country I heard my blood scribed from my body's stars Canis Major Canis Minor Lupus Sirius at night a mercury vapor lamp pushed back the cedar thickets

when I was a girl
I worked in a factory
sewed fox tails to the collars
of womens' coats
I was fast my fingers pinched fur to wool
heavy motors whirred below
I was paid well with company picnics
overtime corn chowder feeds
we sang at our machines
we sang pulling fur from our throats


From the Becky Crocker Kitchens

Veggie Corn Chowder


1 early summer thunderstorm after a long dry spell, hail if possible
2 cobs of really fresh corn not frozen or etc.
1 or 2 regulation sized Yukon gold potatoes or 4 smallish sized (this chowder should be more corny than it is potatoey)
1 medium sized onion
1 cup of dry white wine
2 cups of veggie stock
1 cup of heavy cream
1 leek
1 onion
2 stalks of celery
1 sprig of fresh thyme
1 bay leaf

Dice the celery and the onion.
Wash the sand off your leek, dry it, then slice the white part into thin rings.
Heat a blob of butter and a blob of olive oil in a heavy-bottomed soup pot.
Sauté the veggies until they are clear.

This would be a good time to dice your potatoes to a manageable smallish size.
Leave the peelings on unless you get frantic about stuff like that.

Shuck the corn and cut the kernels off with a very sharp knife. I usually break the corn cobs in half then cut the kernels off in a bowl because they make a mess and go flying everywhere. After you cut off the kernels, scrape the cobs with the back of a knife to get out all the sweet milky corn goodness. Don’t cheat on this part. It’s what makes this chowder so yummy.


Add 1 cup of dry white wine to the veggies and let it reduce by half.
Add the veggie stock and bring the fire up until it boils.
Toss in the potatoes and corn and corny milk stuff.
Lower the fire to a simmer.

Once the potatoes are tender, about 15 minutes, add the cream, a teaspoon of cumin (you just have to trust me on this), a bay leaf if you have one, and a sprig of fresh thyme if you have one of those. Salt and pepper to taste. Turn the fire to low and let the chowder simmer for at least a half hour.

Once you're ready to serve this, drizzle it with a wee bit of very good virgin olive oil and sprinkle it with chopped flat parsley for looks.

Serve with a good crusty piece of bread.

This is good even if the sun is out.

I don’t know what makes this a chowder and not just a soup. I’ve never had chowder the other kind with *SHUDDER* clams in it. When I imagine it I imagine there is lots of sand in it. If there is indeed sand in clam chowder and you’d make this recipe but for the longing for the sand part, I guess you could forgo washing your leek. Then you’d get sand, the clams would be alive, and they all lived happily ever after.

ps. I didn't have a leek so I just put in a little more onion. I didn't have any thyme though it's struggling in my large and cumbersome herb pot that is on a garden chair by my front door. I don't have any flat parsley either. So what. It smells good in my house and I feel like I've accomplished something.


Hannibal LecterYou still wake up sometimes, don't you? You wake up in the dark and hear the screaming of the clams.

Clarice Starling: Yes.

Monday, July 18, 2016

I wear gold beetles in my earlobes. They tick little clocks a constant reminder tick tick tick. All I could think of last night and today are the two VERY IMPORTANT TASKS I must complete right now before I get on with it. Things to do before jumping out of an airplane: look for a body of water a stand of pines or something big that will break your fall for example the roof of an RV. Exiting an aircraft looks like exciting aircraft but the difference is vital. Throw the parachute out of the plane first. Scream BANZAIIIIII!!!!! Continue to scream as you attempt to grab your parachute. Steer with your body fly with your body steer with your body. Keep your feet pointed like a ballerina's. etc. REMINDER TO SELF: buy a fucking helmet.

I called the physician’s office as directed today July 18. I called at exactly 8 AM according to Greenwich Mean Time on the nose on the button right smack on the dollar and the robot answered and asked me for my Social Security Number which I promptly refused to give then the robot told me THE VOLUME OF CALLS IS VERY HIGH RIGHT NOW AND YOU ARE GOING TO BE ASSIGNED A TIME TO CALL BACK YOUR CALL BACK TIME IS TUESDAY JULY 26th  AND NO LATER THAN FRIDAY JULY 29th  THANK YOU GOODBYE.

The last time I checked FRIDAY was not a time.

Well then. One doesn't know quite what to do with oneself when one is faced with a robot who won't cooperate with my FIRST VERY IMPORTANT TASK and people who refer to themselves as ONE are irritating and pretentious but those gold beetles in my ears tick the minutes away and I am gathering a plan. I'm going to call back and call back and call back and call back then I'm going to walk to the lake before it gets hot and wade out in my blue skirt then walk back home and call again.

How can I jump out of an airplane if I can't even locate a body of water in which to land? Robots of my heart rejoice. Your time has come.


I ran through the house into my bedroom and scared the bejesus out of Mignonette who body-flopped off my bed and who is now hiding under there with the photos and unused Mason jars and dust. Sorry little bub! I’m so sorry. Please come out. I won’t run in the house again.


Mignonette insists that we now call him Little Bear.

Sunday, July 17, 2016

on my mantle this morning

two orange dahlias from my neglected garden with some happy daisies and purple bachelor buttons
Glass Girls a painting my brother gave me because he saw Henry there and clearly Henry is there
this is what I woke up to and this is a dear reminder to keep going:

Dear Rebecca, I'm writing a memoir and last night I finished a full first draft and this morning, just now, it came to me that I will dedicate it to you. Can't really dedicate it to the people dearest to me because they're already in it but I will never forget your wish to me "desire to engage in deep play in your art". That message was such a gift to me and I hope this book will make it to prove that I did. Love you!! 💙😘

Saturday, July 16, 2016

If I get a chance next week I'm going to look at a house that is literally on LOIS LANE. Seriously. LOIS LANE! This has to be a dream house three headed dog no matter what.
I have eleventy thousand doctors' appointments next week including fake fake doctor nurse DOGNURSE  the lab for more blood and the very expensive vet. I am stressed about all of these visits. This morning I called the hotel in which I'm staying in 32 days just to make sure I'm still staying there. That's right my paranoia level is


Will I give this information to DOGNURSE?

Oh fuck no.
I will sit in her chair and tell her that everything is just fine.
That's right I'm fit as a fucking fiddle!

I might actually use those exact words when she asks me the dread question HOW ARE YOU? even though the word fiddle is hideous to me and I cannot begin to tell you how many people ask if I play the fiddle. NO I PLAY A VIOLIN. Fiddle is a style of music. Not my style either.
The Surfer came home last night so he can take his '57 Chevy to a car show this morning. It's strange that he is so social and well normal. I have no idea how he got that way. I got up early went for a swim in the lake foraged some morels in my SECRET HIDEY SPOT THAT NO ONE KNOWS ABOUT AND WON'T EVER KNOW NOT EVEN MY SON OR MY BEST FRIEND ALICE then I came home and made a Gruyere boule that is so cheesy and delicious that eating a piece a rather big piece might kill me. I mean obviously I already had the piece and my stomach is all riled up. But seriously one thing I cannot abide is a fresh loaf of bread right out of the oven still intact. Not inside me I mean. And honestly I thought I was baking this for my newly arrived bearing peaches and apricots fresh off the trees in the orchard son.

Ta Da!!!

I CANNOT WAIT to be rid of this hideous yellow counter that makes everything I bake look jaundiced and all the other wrong things in this house and honestly the yellow counter is the least of this craptastic house's woes.

46 days since Mignonette appeared starving anemic flea-ridden mangy and crippled on my driveway

every day I take him out of his safe space (my bedroom my bed where his food and scratching post and toys and catnip and litter box are) into the living room so he can look around and exercise his messed up spine and broken left hip he has gained 2.8 pounds and yesterday he walked out of my room on his own for the first time and stood in the hallway and turned around and walked back into my room without his hips collapsing at all (he could not really stand and could barely walk when I found him) last night he stretched out in the hot sun and later his legs were bothering him he pulled himself with his front legs up to where I sat reading and it tore me up and frightened me and I wept hot terrible tears and though I know his hips and spine will trouble him always I was not aware of the depth of my love for him and it happened so quickly love at first sight it was and he is fine this morning and actually jumped off the bed onto his little footstool then onto the floor to hiss at The Evil Orlando for using his very own scratching post to which his beloved pink mouse is tied she just climbed off and left the room it's good that he's feeling spunky and getting his catness back his essence and The Evil Orlando seems younger than ever with the companionship though the companionship is still mostly posturing and figuring out who is the boss of whom

The Evil Orlando sticks her tongue out at Mignonette when he sets personal boundaries

I am leaving for NY in 32 days I have been counting down and I am excited to pieces so much so that I may have reverted to being completely girlygirl duh duh dumb no matter 

my birthday is in 13 days
I have zero plans

so far

Hello Darklings!

Thursday, July 14, 2016

today I went to the dermatologist who froze this off my face because I told her I felt like Robert De Niro and I don't mean Robert De Niro's dark mole I mean I felt like Robert De Niro's actual head was growing there on my face

it hurt like fuck btw but it didn't hurt as bad as many ulcers hurt also didn't make me barf etc

of course as soon as I got home I Googled™ seborrheic keratosis and found this which made everything worthwhile:



Happy birthday my precious senile wart!

it really doesn't get much better than this


Hello there handsome!

Tuesday, July 12, 2016

Play ball!!!

Watching the MLB All Star game and tearing up as the players are introduced.

In Baseball Heaven right now.
I am obviously still going through the photographs from my mother's abattoir the header photo today is remarkable mostly because it was the only slumber party I was ever invited to and the girl on the left is Elena Benoit who was not really my friend but rather a competitor as we challenged each other to read every single book in our 3rd grade library including the encyclopedias and we both did it in one school year

this was one year into my mental illness I was ten and unspeakable as in I could not yet speak as in pathologically shy as in pathological but I was already playing the violin and playing it well and would soon be playing it competitively and I was already reading Russian novelists and full of necessary and cruel wisdoms

the photo is kind of hilarious what with Barbie™ face-down and naked on the floor with her arm behind her head like Laura Palmer in Fire Walk With Me what appears to be a roll of electrical tape with a strip of tape already pulled off the crooked painting on the wall the white belt a wad of Kleenix magazines ripped up the single abandoned flip-flop and it looks like someone was tearing the stuffing out of the couch probably I did I was always doing something nervous with my hands what the hell happened there?

I don't know but it's probably why I never got invited to another slumber party not ever ever in my life

one thing I know for sure is that that is the Barbie™ that I left on Henry Darger's grave in Chicago in 2011 as a peace offering before I eviscerated him in Queer Wing-ed

the party was at Elena's house and once again I have no idea who took the photo or how my mother happened to be in possession of it

good morning Darklings

welcome to day 12 of my Birthday Month

Monday, July 11, 2016

Queer Wing-ed notes

Where a body begins and where a body ends the body erases itself and the body of work erases itself leaving ghost images

A body in the center of space is exposed on all sides  (Derrida)

Baby sharks don’t sleep nor do I without drugging myself I haven’t slept undrugged in years this is a form of erasure a form of shame paranoia keeps me awake my spinning brain keeps me awake compulsive thinking more shame (DOGNURSE tells me I can control so much of my pathology she is full of shit literally constipated which shunts her own spinning brain into typical demarcations she shames me and she doesn’t even know she’s doing it) early last night I took my blanket into the backyard and lay under the giant cherry tree to watch the crows at their bath I could feel every cherry stone pressing into my back like The Princess and the Pea and I was aware of my very real fear that criminals could come vaulting over the fence to harm me a belief that DOGNURSE has chided me for in the past that has now become true and it wasn’t the first time people were in my yard at night wandering around when I was eight years old in my mother’s house I lay in my bed every night hearing a boy from the work camp outside my window whispering that he was going to rape then kill me this went on for almost three years I told no one in fact the most dangerous place for me to be was inside my bed the boy materialized at a camping trip with my father I had walked out to the end of a dock on a lake and the work farm for boys (we called it juvie) was across the lake and I was talking across the lake to a boy on his dock we had a lovely conversation but my father caught me and dragged me back to the tent and told me the boy was going to come and find me and rape me and this idea spun and spun and the boy now imagined now part of my mental illness stayed because he was easier to listen to than the actual noises and nightly ritual activities that occurred in my mother’s house

Of what was Henry Darger ashamed
Henry's mother died when he was four years old after giving birth to Henry’s sister
Henry never knew his sister (my grandmother died after giving birth to my mother) (I never knew my sister)
Henry’s incarceration in the Illinois Asylum for Feeble-Minded Children in Lincoln was (so the history goes but history is the Great Liar) for ‘excessive masturbation’ maybe he just got caught maybe he masturbated as much as any 13 year old boy or perhaps he was (my guess) preying on children even then and the asylum gave him a green light to continue he who may or may not have been molested himself but was certainly molested in the asylum imagine his shame imagine what he felt knowing of his diagnoses then being sent to such a horrible place worse than prison this was 1905 I have read the scholarly tomes those places were the stuff of nightmares

The asylum is where Henry met the Vivian Girls though they had different names or maybe not he never stopped thinking obsessing about them all those tortured little boy/girls

I discovered my mother’s enormous stash of child porn when I was nine years old up to that point I really didn’t have a frame of reference about what she was doing to me her pulpy books cleared that up in a hurry and that was when I started to fight back that’s when I became a thief that’s when I became a violinist as opposed to a child who played an instrument years later in therapy I was asked to draw a life line of myself one quick drawing a stick figure for each year and at year nine I drew myself without arms not aware I had done it I drew myself as amputated because that’s when I figured things out that’s when I knew how bad things were how much danger I was truly in and DOGNURSE told me that my PTSD was imagined thank god for the Johnny Cash Psychiatrist who properly diagnosed me who loved me and who referred to my mother as that evil bitch

Do we write ourselves into everything must we even when our imaginations take over does the kernel of our shame or joy have to inform the work
Where does the body begin where does the body end
Where is the body in Queer Wing-ed and whose body Henry's Elsie Paroubek's or mine

All those children oh god

Sunday, July 10, 2016

I find kindness extremely difficult to deal with when it is directed toward me. Especially when I am in most need of it. I can’t figure out the simple details. There is work to be done but the work involves digging excavating bringing secrets to light. What happened in the car the garage the bathroom the bathtub the toilet the kennel the doctor’s bulgy gray room the telephone the glowing screen the kitchen table the basement the bed the bus the school the church nursery the hissing cornfield. Dogs taught me never to speak. I did not speak until I was 27 years old. It is better to keep things hidden. It is better to let dogs howl and slaver and froth and piss and round the house at night. Secrets are the sisters of lies. There is thunder inside my head. This is my fault. This is my fault. This is my fault line. "She failed to temper artistic nature with an understanding of reality."  "Now she's writing about herself in the third person." I am an idiot. I always believe everything. I don’t care. I care about everything.
in other less interesting news I am mentally ill today

owning it

this today is the very first time Mignonette discovered his scratching post even though it's been there since he came home he is enthralled as you can clearly see and will not let Orlando touch it from his behavior I believe he has never had a kitty toy or scratching post or a scratch behind his ear or even catnip for that matter not in his entire short life also he's gained two pounds already

don't be alarmed Orlando has an entire scratching tree in the living room so far Minnie the Moocher has not wandered out of my bedroom but she did stick her head out the door once to say hi to The Surfer

who greeted me this morning

Saturday, July 9, 2016

yesterday's mail brought a $2300 bill from the hospital
it was a very bad mail day
(I always have good or not good mail days cards and postcards and presents and poetry acceptances are good mail days no mail at all is an excellent mail day hospital bills bills from Social Security and physicians and the slumlord are very bad mail days)
I called the hospital billing office and paid it in full last year while I was incarcerated in hospital I paid in inklings and I could barely buy food then and then my old Honda broke down yet again and I missed a payment and so it goes

I cried for a little while because everything I spend now is eating into my house down payment money and if I keep eating into that saved money then I will have to move into the serial killer's house pictured below but every pay day brings a surprise like the vet bill Mignonette's very expensive $50 a case food and my hospital bill I did all of these things myself of course except for the snipey rent raise for this craptastic house I created my own reality

today wants to be a good mail day
please baby Jesus let today be a good mail day

in other news nothing hurts!