I am definitely feeling addicted. Spent a couple of hours last night finding additional stuff to cram into my custom module -- GudKarma's funny XangaSpoofs, htmlGear for adding links and quotes, a Guestmap, a comedy mp3 player from laugh.com, a daily cartoon, a mood indicator -- and that's just the stuff that worked.
And no comments for days.
I spent a couple of hours before that, searching the Review pages of everyone I subscribe to and a few I don't, and composing an entry listing recommendations.
No comments yet. Visitors falling off since Thursday.
One of my favorite posters, Deviant, is on hiatus. Captain Dread Pirate Sir thinks we should all go on hiatus.
Deviant asked the folks she subscribes to to leave a comment recommending which entry of theirs they particularly wanted her to read. Two thirds of the folks commenting so far have said the equivalent of "I only post garbage."
Why do you post on Xanga?
Why do you write?
I write, basically, because I can't stop. Another reason is that if I didn't write all this stuff down I would be saying it out loud, and this way I give more of my friends a chance to talk.
But I post in public places because I want to be read. I think I have something worth reading. I like to make people laugh. I want them to know that they are not alone in grief and pain. I dream of writing a scary story that will make you pull your feet up into the chair in a sudden shiver over what might be underneath. I want to inform and educate, pass on things I've learned, counter false information. I want to persuade people, because we each have a vision of the future and whoever puts the most heart and energy behind their vision brings it into the world.
I work and talk to people and read, and everything makes me want to write. I started my log on Xanga to make it easier to post what I thought of "on the fly" -- I became more active when it seemed like it was also a way to get more people to read what I wrote.
Why would I write if I didn't think it was important? Why would I post it if I didn't want to be read? I can keep my personal journal in a two dollar spiral notebook and save paying for an ISP and a phone line.
That has some advantages. I wouldn't have to put up with my ISP and my phone line!
I'm glad I added the stats tracker. I can tell that I have visitors, even when they don't leave comments. Some of you spend half an hour, even an hour here! That warms the cockles of my writer's 
. 
And I have eighteen subscribers. I've noticed other loggers thank their subscribers, and I have been remiss. A Virtual Guiness or Refreshment of Your Choice to: VeryModern,
thoughts, Speedbump, missslady, Deviant, nally, dveras, voice, TeckerDaze, Soularchitect, tutor1235, fairestc, MaggieMay, maidoftherock, bdreamwalker , catana, prettynow, and jmarcusross.
Whatever you have to say, say it and don't call it "crap." You each have a unique culture and a unique point of view. Our Selves do not spring into being; we create them, by making decisions and experiencing things and thinking and feeling... and by expressing ourselves. We become individuals by interacting with a community.
Write On! You were not born to be a cipher.
Month: September 2001
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A bit of journal from my Reviews:
Unconventional Fun with Microwave Ovens - weblink, 3.5 stars
To: guyd@zip.com.au
From: "Anitra L. Freeman"
Subject: Frankincense & Myrrh
My partner referred me to your site after my own most recent discovery of things not to put in a microwave oven.
Frankincense and myrrh are solid little nuggets of pitch which, when heated, give off a sweet, rich odor. The traditional way of heating them is in a gold brazier over a charcoal flame.
Lacking either charcoal or a brazier of any metal, I attempted to heat some frankincense and myrrh that I bought this weekend in a plastic bottle cap in the microwave.
This resulted in no release of scent, sweet or otherwise, but instead, some spectacular flashes of light. Evidently plant pitch is an excellent conductor of electricity, which I did not know until performing this kitchen experiment.
The one drawback of this trick, as far as your webpage is concerned, may be that it did not actually destroy the microwave. Bits of pitch were scattered throughout the inside, including being stuck on the roof, and had to be cleaned out carefully or the oven continued to spark. But it was eventually restored to normal operation.
If you wish, however, you may be able to overcome this drawback with persistence. At any rate, you should be able to get some lovely pictures for your webpage.
If you should want to heat frankincense and myrrh cheaply and safely, by the way, you can do so in a small metal pan on a stove burner at very low heat. Make sure that the pan is one that is already no longer useable in cooking, like teflon-coated aluminum that already has half the teflon scraped off. If it's one that your partner will look for later, this might create more sparks.
Enjoy, and thanks for the enjoyment --
Anitra L. Freeman
Does anyone ever read Reviews? It looks like they don't -- a Review can make Featured Content if it gets one reader and two eProps!
But look at what you're missing, hidden away in Reviews:- Kathy's recipes (and great links)
- vf821's poetry
- fairestc's HTML 101
- enigmatic's tricks with stylesheets and popup windows
- Lots of solid recommendations from Captain Dread Pirate Sir
- voice's reviews of blogs you may have missed
- Alice's impressively well-organized index of her writing
- I learned about the "Accelerate Your Mac" and "As the Apple Turns" websites from notasoul
- An important part of Esentia's heart is open on her review page
- dveras has Useful sites for journalists and researchers
- gadwall has excellent links on depression
- You can learn more about VeryModern's family
- When Deviant does a book review, it's thorough
- HerbieTheElf does music and movies
Not to mention that you're missing my reviews.
That's just the ones I've found, folks, and I'm a blogging newbie! Scout around and let me know about any more Good Stuff, okay? The "Sites I Read" subscription doesn't list additions to Reviews or Events -- I recommend clicking the Review and Event links on your favorite blogs occasionally.
Read On! -
American Literature Abuse Society (ALAS)
Self-Test for Literature Abuse: How many of these apply to you?- I have read fiction when I was depressed or to cheer myself up.
- I have gone on reading binges of an entire book or more in a day.
- I read rapidly, often "gulping" chapters.
- I sometimes read early in the morning or before work.
- I have hidden books in different places to sneak a chapter without being seen.
- Sometimes I avoid friends or family obligations in order to read novels.
- Sometimes I re-write film or television dialog as the characters speak.
- I often read alone.
- I have pretended to watch television while secretly reading.
- I keep books or magazines in the bathroom for a "quick nip."
- I have denied or "laughed off" criticism of my reading habit.
- Heavy reading has caused conflicts with my family or spouse.
- I am unable to enjoy myself with others unless there is a book nearby.
- I seldom leave my house without a book or magazine.
- When travelling, I pack a large bag full of books.
- At a party, I will often slip off unnoticed to read.
- Reading has made me seek haunts and companions which I would otherwise avoid.
- I have neglected personal hygiene or household chores until I finished a novel.
- I become nervous, disoriented, or fearful when I must spend more than 15 minutes without reading matter.
- I have spent money meant for necessities on books instead.
- I have sold books to support my reading "habit."
- I have daydreamed about becoming a rich & famous writer, or "word-pusher."
- I have attempted to check out more library books than is permitted.
- Most of my friends are heavy fiction readers.
- I have sometimes passed out or woken groggy or "hung-over" after a night of heavy reading.
- I have suffered 'blackouts' or memory loss from a bout of reading.
- I have wept, become angry or irrational because of something I read.
- I have sometimes wished I did not read so much.
- Sometimes I think my fiction reading is out of control.
- When I shop for furniture, I always look at bookshelves.
- I try to convince yourself that I don't really need other furniture, so that I can justify getting rid of it, so that I can buy more bookshelves.
- Some of my bookshelves have books at least two rows deep.
- I bring a large cardboard box with me to library book sales.
- When I last moved (i.e., changed place of residence), I had more than ten boxes of books, and I never considered getting rid of any books to reduce the weight and cost of my move.
- I don't buy a handbag unless I am sure that a book will fit in it.
- I refuse to buy jackets or coats unless they have at least one pocket big enough to hold a book.
- I don't go ANYWHERE without a book.
- I take a book to choir practice just to sneak a look at it when the choir director is giving directions to the other voices.
- I hide my current reading inside a hymnbook, in order to continue reading during the church service.
- During the sermon, I am reading ahead in the Bible.
- I am able to read and walk at the same time.
- I go psychotic when anybody badmouths my favourite authors.
- When given a bookstore gift certificate, my first thought is - "That's nowhere near enough!!"
- Even though on crutches, recovering from surgery, I am unable to resist an invitation to visit a bookstore.
- I go to the toilet for the express purpose of a few minutes of quiet reading time.
- I catch a bus to work rather than drive because it gives me all that waiting and sitting time to read.
- I read in the bathtub or jacuzzi (or shower) till the pages are soggy.
- I am unable to dine without a book propped up in front of your plate.
- While reading this I have a book open on my desk so I can read it while waiting for the computer.
- I have more books loaned to friends and family than my friends and family OWN.
- I read the book BEFORE the movie comes out.
- I beg my child to let me read aloud the next chapter of "Harry Potter" at his bedtime.
If you answered 'yes' to five or more of these questions, you may be a literature abuser. Affirmative responses to ten or more indicates a serious reading problem --seek help now! Fifteen or more "yes" responses indicates a severe or chronic "readaholic" personality. Intervention is seldom effective at this stage.
A friend gave me a print-out of this after Bumbershoot.
She also confessed that she scored at least a 38 herself.
Be sure to read the site more warning signs, and for for essential advice, like "What to do if you suspect your child is becoming an English major"
"Parents should look for signs that their children are taking the wrong path - don't expect your teenager to approach you and say, 'I can't stop reading Spencer.' By the time you visit her dorm room and find the secret stash of the Paris Review, it may already be too late."
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I slept most of yesterday. I got back from the final day of Bumbershoot, carrying a bag of chapbooks and our tri-panel posterboard of Tent City, and fell into bed. I slept until about 2:30 AM and woke to the keyboard clickety-clicks of Wes writing his column for Real Change. I got up and browsed around for awhile. I didn't write an entry, but I did write a website review that is also a journal entry. On Sunday I bought a few things at Bumbershoot besides books: Dragonblood incense sticks, scented oil, and a little package of frankincense and myrrh...
When Wes was finished with his column, about 4:30 PM, I read it, then went back to bed. He came to bed soon after emailing it in to the editor.
At 9:45 AM we were both awakened by the horrible scream of the building's fire alarm. While we stumbled around like Keystone cops getting groggily dressed I growled, "This had better not be a drill or I'm going to strangle somebody." We padded down three flights of stairs carrying our shoes, preceded by one of the more disabled residents on her crutches -- and arrived in the lobby to be told it was a false alarm. I have no honor. I don't keep my word. I did not, actually, kill anyone. We just turned around and went back to bed. (But I wasn't actually obligated to kil anyone, was I? It wasn't a drill, it just wasn't a real fire.)
I hadn't gotten my disability check Saturday even though the direct deposits usually arrive promptly on the 1st even on holidays. Since I had budgeted myself so that I would be able to spend the last of my money from August at Bumbershoot and have my September check for necessities, I was in a bit of a fret. (I live on about $550 a month; a paycheck for part-time work, and a partial disability check.) I had meant to go down to the state disability office Tuesday afternoon to check on it, but it was too late when I woke up. I called my case manager, however, and she reassured me; all of the state checks had been delayed because of the holiday weekend, but would arrive on Tuesday. Which mine did.
I caught up with "sites I read" barely in time to get to writing workshop, and ended up thinking I should perhaps have stayed home another day and let my associate-director do the facilitating tonight. My nerves were still over-excited, and one of the participants was demanding on the nerves -- the kind of person I usually have a lot of patience with, but who in my current state almost drove me screaming into the night.
He hasn't been in for quite awhile and his files had been put in the backup archives. He was looking for them, so I said just a moment I'll put them back. I had several other windows open at that time, and I started closing them or putting them in "hide" so that I could get to the directories I needed to move his files, but he was already at my shoulder leaning forward saying, "That's not my file, where's my file, that's not my file..."
I wrote a lesson on sonnets for the night, and tried to get everyone to play with sonnets. Wes wrote one, everyone else at least discussed why they didn't want to write one, Kevin found a "Sonnet on Writing Sonnets" on the Net, this guy pays no attention whatsoever. I encourage everyone to write what they want to write -- the Topic of the Evening is just to stimulate you if you need an idea to start with. He wrote three free-verse poems, I was tickled. But it's also Rules of Workshop that you listen to other people while they are reading! He would keep writing, and start talking to himself under his breath as well as soon as someone else started talking, as if he needed help to concentrate over the distraction. I had only enough energy to be annoyed, and not enough to confront him, which I should have.
Then at the end, it took forty minutes to get him out of the office. We meant to catch the ten o'clock bus and caught the 10:30 bus instead. He wanted to type up "just one more poem." (That I can sympathize with! ) He couldn't remember how to save his poems. I was trying to walk him through saving and he says, "But where do i put the title?" and I say, "You've already named it" and point to the box that says, "Save Current Document as:" and he says, "I mean the name of the file.. that says document" !!!
All of you who have done Tech Support or User Training are now nodding your heads and either wincing or grinning. I confess, I raised my voice; I said, "Just.. do .. exactly what I tell you to... and come in... for computer class... LATER!"
As we finally walked to our bus stop, Wes asked plaintively, "Can I garotte him next time, please?" but I answered, "No, dear, we can't kill the workshop members, it plays hell with the statistics."
With all the annoyances, what I find myself worrying about the most is that he might not come back. He mentioned having been in jail long enough to write a story; I suspect that whatever trouble he got into, he should have been diverted to Mental Health Court. If he will come into workshops regularly, and if I can stay calm around him, he might find the experience helps ground him. Storm was in almost as chaotic a state when she first started coming in to StreetLife Gallery in 1993, and she's blossomed since then.
Anyway... when I woke this morning I felt much refreshed. I think I'll make it to WHEEL meeting. I'd better get a move on though.
First, Wes's sonnet:
Poetry Race
This is what I'm going to call a sonnet;
Don't try to tell me it is otherwise.
I haven't decided what to write upon it,
Except that I wouldn't write about flies.
My sonnet's second verse is now a'startin'
My poetry horse has run half of its mile.
So far she might as well have been a'fartin'
She'd win more points for fartin' style.
Round the last bend we're coming now!
Without any idea of what to say.
Oh no we're about to collide with a cow!
This hasn't been our best poetry day.
My sonnet is lying dead in the dirt.
I was thrown clear; I wasn't hurt.© Dr. Wes Browning
Write On! -
Remember the "experimental sonnets" by Tom Parson that I mentioned last entry? The ones that inspired me to try the form again, and play with it more?
The only rules Tom follows are:- 14 lines, in one of two forms
- Three four-line stanzas and one two-line stanza, or
- Two four-line stanzas and two three-line stanzas.
- Some kind of rhyme scheme. Near-rhymes count.
Line length and meter vary very loosely.
So --
My first Tom Parson sonnet:
Reasons People Read
(observations at Bookfair)
See me -- hear me -- print me --
I'm a writer too.
I want assurance there are people who
agree with me.
Reflect my reality
back to me, make me feel secure.
Or, show me something no one's done before
that everyone can understand.
With flowing hand
paint soothing scenes, inspiring visions,
entertaining dances with my senses.
Be my voice.
Make the world hear the whisper of my pain.
Make the world see the body of my dream. - 14 lines, in one of two forms
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I met our fellow blogger James Marcus Ross at Bumbershoot today! (Saturday) So cool!
We talked briefly at the Bookfair, where he is volunteering, and longer at the after-hours party tonight for Bookfair participants where this year's literary awards were announced. No, neither one of us won anything. Yet.
I came home with more books. Two were freebies and one a gift from Roberto Valenza, whom I know from his days at StreetLife Gallery as well as his presence in the Seattle poetry scene. He has a beautiful new book out, a record of his experiences in Katmandu, called Under the Precious Umbrella, published by Nine Muses Press. The Bumbershoot site has their own quote from it. This was the poem that touched me first, though, browsing through the book for the first time:
- BABS' Baby JUNIPER
- (death of a friend's 4 month old child, written at the burning ghat)
There is a growling thunder around,
the eminence of a personal death is in the air.
Can you stand the pain of someone you love dying?
Tell me if you can stand in the rain and not
get wet.
So beautiful the day.
Are you still here in your body?
So slight you are, I know you could disappear,
go back between an inhale and an exhale,
all the way back to another condition.
Your suit of clothes hardly worn.
No one will get to know you because
when getting home the mass is going on.
I can't judge whether to be sad or glad
that the newborn baby is gone.
They'll need so little wood
and just a little fire,
hardly any smoke you'll make today,
down by the river.
Yesterday (Friday) the man staffing the Floating Bridge Press table beside me was Peter Pereira. Today I got to hear him read, and I was so delighted I bought his book The Lost Twin and got him to autograph it.
Peter is a physician, and many of his poems are written from that perspective. One of the poems he read was about doing an emergency Cesarean; two lighter ones were about hiccups.
It struck me as I listened that here was one more thing we aren't allowed to talk about in this culture -- physical trauma, surgery, like cutting open bleeding fatty tissues to take a baby out. That's part of why I bought the book. (The other part was the humor in the "hiccup" poems!)
Here's a quote (without the blood):
Now I imagine her baby is like Houdini
Jacketed inside a treasure chest five fathoms
down, mouth gagged, lungs bursting, time running out.
And I couldn't resist a mystery book from the same press: Michael Dibdin, The Last Sherlock Holmes Story. And oh yeah, I got snagged by a paperback copy of Tracon, a thriller about air traffic controllers by Paul McElroy.
I wish now I hadn't turned in my Bookfair-party invitation for the free drink! It had some wonderful quotes on it. One I wanted to share was by Diane di Prima, something about "You can't not take sides. It's a war against the imagination. You can't be a conscientious objector."
And now I have to get some sleep so I can go back tomorrow. -
Okay, do I get to toot a bit here? I have an emotional glow on.
I got to read my poem "Words" at the Bumbershoot Open Mic tonight (Friday) and the MC (Paul Hunter of Wood Works Press) quoted from it ! Folks, that's strokes!
Then I came home to check my email and found that one of my WrittenByMe articles, Hosting a Homeless Shelter, is a feature at VOXine. I didn't even submit it there -- a fellow WBM writer who is an editor at VOXine picked it to feature!
The other feature was also a thought-provoker, Segregation Is More Than A Racial Issue by Maria Hanson.
In other news, I was given two books to review, and bought two. One was Friendship Paper Sampler by Ann Vicente of Papermaker's Press, Vancouver, British Columbia. It's a collection of handmade paper and the story behind each piece: for instance, a paper with floating bits of leaf in it was made from yucca leaves she and a friend found while walking the Point Grey track on spring mornings.
The first thing I began creating while I was homeless, after I came out of depression, was handmade paper. I have not had time for the last three years to get back to it. I think this book will inspire me to make the time.
I hope that the other book I bought, a collection of sonnets by Tom Parson printed by Wood Works Press, will inspire me too. In To Be Self-Evident, Tom plays with the form, using it without being choked by it. I've been trying to play with sonnets, and have done parodies, but haven't been able to write an original in traditional form. With Tom's example, I'm going to start playing with it more.
My favorite quote from Tom's poems I've read so far:
"type the poem, it takes all afternoon
and then it's time to put dinner on..."
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