Went to a Baby Shower Today

To steal a snippet from Going Jesus:

"Shut up, Ovaries. No one wants to hear from you right now."

But all that stuff was SOOO STINKIN KYOOOOOT!!!!!!
*SQUEEEK!*

*sigh*
...I can't talk to you when you're like this...

Grandpa and the Billowing Pink Pants

This just in:
so kyooot.......

In Other news, I had two very funny dream snippets last night you might get a kick out of:

In one snippet, I dreamed I got a certificate from my grandpa who has been dead for over 20 years but of course in the dream I thought nothing of it.
The certificate was for a "Pants Suspension". I thought "Cool!" and I took it to a store to redeem it. They took my pants, which were PINK - and they hoisted (suspended) them up on a cable high above the town. They were HUGE and billowing up there in the wind. I felt suprised that the certificate was for THAT kind of suspension... but I felt very happy anyway.

Then in the next snippet I found myself in a kiddie ride at a carnival with a new friend. I was very excited about this new friend and we were sitting very close together on the ride like little girls do. I felt nervous also, so I said "I'm afraid that I might like you more than you like me. Sometimes when I'm nervous about a new friend I just remind myself of my Job Title and tell myself I'm Cool so that I'll feel less nervous."
She said "I do that too". I felt accepted and happy.

Cooking tip: My mom's been doing this a long time, I just tried it today. Instead of searing a roast in the oven or browning it in a pan, do it on the gas grill outside with the temp on high. Less mess, more flavor! Oh ya, baby, it works!!!

Whyfore Art Thou Blogging?

Spellchecker wants this title to be: Whooper Art Thou Flogging? - I like that too.

Recently I have read a few people's posts about when they started blogging and why and what it did for them.

It occurred to me I don't think I've ever really explained my title. I think that in a couple of posts along the way I've stated that I started doing this because I thought TallSkinnyKiwi was cool and Real Live Preacher and I just wanted to practice writing so I did.

For me, it has been a little like adding a room to the house where people come and go and I can connect with them some or not, sometimes they don't come back for a long time, sometimes they come around a lot. I really really enjoy that part of the blogosphere.

Captainwow was a psychic cat in a Science Fiction short story included in a book called The Galaxy Reader. It was published in 1958. The Kevmo read me this book one time at my house when we were dating. We laughed our heads off.
The cat in the book fought space dragons with a human partner using psychic powers. (It reminded me of prayer and spiritual warfare.) His name was Captainwow. I thought that was cool and right about then was when I started this blog. Later, I got a happy meal at McDonalds and that was the arrival of the Mascot Captainwow. (see profile photo) He has now been all over the world and is still exploring this part of the galaxy.

My writing teachers always said "Write write write!" Anne Lamott inspired me also in her book Bird by Bird. Write write write and write some more. Don't not do it because you think you won't get published, do it because you like it. So I have been doing that. No, I don't expect to get published. I was published once in Highlights for Kids - I can't remember what year now, but I have a copy around here somewhere. I wrote a short story about how the lion got its mane. A teacher sent it in to them and they published it.

Writing this blog has been good for me, and I think that in small ways over the year and a half or so that I've been doing this that I may have improved just a tiny bit. Or at least settled into my groove some. I don't get a ton of traffic, but that's fine with me. Sometimes I connect with folks - they can relate to what I write and I really like grooving on that. Sometimes we aren't on the same page at all... and that's OK too.

Usually when I write a post, I don't read it again once it's off the main page. If a comment pops up later and I don't understand it I'll read my post again to see where they're coming from but mostly it goes out of my brain. Last night I read through the whole thing. Man, is there a lot of stuff there, I can't believe it. I figured this would be one of those things I started and never finished. Like all the diaries and journals I've started and never wrote in regularly.

These were some of the posts that stood out to me:

This one really did happen. I'd forgotten it until I read this and I cracked up all over again.

letter to hershey's HA!

This Theory Proves I have watched too much Star Trek at some point in my life.

Right before our WEDDING!!!! :o) I noticed with this re read that I really never said much about the wedding. I didn't want to be too very bridal on here.

And this occurred to me also: There were some bloggers in that wedding. Headless did an amazing job on the flowers. JustPat and Stinky were bridesmaids. Studiobeerhorst wrote and sang a most beautiful song and various members of the family were involved also - flower girl, guest book attendant... (another would have been decorator but that went funny because of catering weirdness). Ramblings' Son J was the Ring Bearer. PicklO's were the host and hostesses with the mostesses. Not to mention lots of other people who are, shall we say, blogless but just as wonderful.

We all knew each other before our blogging days. Surely we know each other better for it too.

What fun!

Snow Man, Tilapia and Vic Firth

Woah. Two things just happened and I felt the need to blog about it.

1. I saw the biggest snowman I've ever seen in my life. No kiddin, that thing is huge. It's on the NW corner of Beltline and Fulton for those of you in the area - too much traffic to take a pic to show the rest of you but take my word for it it was GI-NORMOUS!

2. I ate the best fish sandwich I believe I've ever had in my life. No kiddin, that thing was GREAT! Lightly breaded and seasoned pan fried Tilapia on a nice bread and incredibly tasty.

In other news, I have purchased a copy of Anchorman. For those of you who don't know me well - I don't buy DVDs often. Because I figure I can rent them at least twice for the price of a dvd and there is little chance I'd watch anything more than twice ever. But if I think I might watch it more than that, and I love love love it then I will buy it. So, if you thought I was very thinky and highbrow for such a movie, I'm sorry to have to disappoint you, but this movie cracked me up and then some so I had to have it. The plan is to spend tomorrow evening introducing a friend to Anchorman and we'll roll some of our own. Sushi, that is.....
Very exciting stuff.

This just in: In case you were wondering, Vic Firth has not run out of ways to make money. You won't find him hand drumming in the streets of St. Augustine for beer money because he's still ROLLING in the DOUGH!

I just bought a Bakers Pin designed by the guy. Aren't you impressed? Well, you SHOULD be, because here's what the packaging said: "Vic Firth represents a half-century of musical perfection as timpanist with the Boston Symphony Orchestra. For the last 40 years, he has applied these exacting standards to manufacturing the best drumstick in the world. Now, Vic translates his commitment to quality by establishing a new world standard in unique professional gourmet tools."

So...Mr. Firth, if I drop this baker's pin on the floor will it clunk a perfectly in tune D and harmonize funkily with the beautiful B-flat frequency that my refrigerator hums on? Hmmmmm?

I didn't think so.

Anyway, I couldn't find my rolling pin, it's packed away somewhere but in the move(s) it's been so deeply buried both in my memory of where it might be and in the boxes of stuff that I have gone through that it just might be gone forever. I've been using a wine bottle on the rare occasions I needed to roll anything out. This will be easier at least, especially since it is made with such "exacting standards"...

Rocket Science

Deep Thoughts by Captainwow and others.

"The Voice in the Garden of Solitude

Solitude is the garden for our hearts, which yearn for love. It is the place where our aloneness can bear fruit. It is the home for our restless bodies and anxious minds. Solitude, whether it is connected with a physical space or not, is essential for our spiritual lives. It is not an easy place to be, since we are so insecure and fearful that we are easily distracted by whatever promises immediate satisfaction. Solitude is not immediately satisfying, because in solitude we meet our demons, our addictions, our feelings of lust and anger, and our immense need for recognition and approval. But if we do not run away, we will meet there also the One who says, "Do not be afraid. I am with you, and I will guide you through the valley of darkness."

Let's keep returning to our solitude."

This was in my email yesterday. I subscribe to the Henri Nouwen daily meditation email group and it's really been groovy. This sort of dovetails with something else I read that maybe you'll identify with as much as I did. I've been marinating with this a few days now, and it may not be time yet to try to put this into words but I'm going to try because - well, because I'm geeked about it. Let me know what you think if you have time!

I'm still chewing slowly through the book No Man Is An Island by Thomas Merton. If you haven't read anything by him and have the time and patience to ruminate on stuff like that, do read it. He wrote an essay that is included in that book called THE MEASURE OF CHARITY. In that he said this: "For love is not found in the void that exists between our being and the being of the one we love. There is an illusion of unity between us when our thoughts, our words, or our emotions draw us out of ourselves and suspend us together for a moment over the void. But when this moment has ended, we must return into ourselves or fall into the void. There is no true love except in God, Who is the source both of our own being and of the being we love."

If you're one of those people who have never struggled with stuff like this then good for you - But for people like me who do not naturally come by the ability to move in and out and around times of intimacy with ease and comfort, this stuff is really not so Elementary, My Dear Watson.
If I must return into myself or fall into the void, then it seems logical that I need to be comfortable in myself, or else it would be miserable to be either place. Solitude, not loneliness, must be the result of being alone. There have been times I've enjoyed solitude, and mostly I do now. Sometimes though, I get a little panicky and find myself feeling grabby and needy and overwhelmed by what bubbles to the surface when I'm alone long enough. And then I am lonely. It is at those times I find myself wanting to hang on to those moments of intimacy - to stay suspended forever and never go back into myself.

Merton says in another part of that same essay: "But there is no true intimacy between souls who do not know how to respect one another's solitude."
And "Thus our love will begin with the knowledge of its own limitations and rise to the awareness of its greatness."

Thank God there's hope.

Captainwow is ready to Party! 

It Matters

I do this thing. Maybe you do it too.

It's not going to be easy, but I need to quit it because it's creating little eddies of stupidity in my life.

There are times that I legitimately need/want something from others ... Their help, or their presence, or to talk.... Whatever. But I almost always try to make it easiest on the other person... I never want anyone to inconvenience themselves, I say it doesn't matter....I minimize the importance of my need or want so that they won't feel obligated or so that they won't feel pressured or that I won't make things too hard on someone else.

As if what I need or want doesn't really have significance. As if I wouldn't and haven't ever bent over backwards for others.... as if no one loves me enough to go around the world and back for me - I have, and they do.

So you see this is ultimately not helpful to anyone, least of all me.

I need a support group.

I'll say: Hi, my name is Captainwow and I am a whatever that's called when you do that thing where you try to not be a bother to anyone in the entire human race.

They'll say: Hi, Captainwow.

The expressions on their faces will tell me that they understand and I'm in a Safe Place. And we'll tell our stories and cry together and drink coffee and smoke cigarettes.

At the end of each meeting we'll say: It DOES TOO matter! *I* matter, and the things that matter to me matter so there.

Happy Birthday Stinky!!! (tomorrow)

May your day be oderful and wonderful.
May you forget your deoderant and may you not be bothered to shave.
May you encounter many occasions to give wedgies throughout the day.
May you find sparkly wonderthings under your pillow
And may all those around you blow hair beads out their noses in honor of your birth!

They may think it's funny, but we both know itSNOT!

Tons of Love my Dear Friend!
-Captainwow

Creative Dreaming

Last night I dreamed that I drove a silver colored car that was a cross between a Porsche and a Jaguar. It had two flat tires, which for some reason I was helpless to take care of myself. So I went into the house (which happened to be my mom's) for help. A friend of mine was there and had a brilliant idea, since the air compressor was not working. We repaired the tires by filling them with the beads and dirt we had swept from the kitchen floor and then we torched them with a blow torch. (oh, the creative genius!) They filled right up and were good as new!

Then I went inside the house through the back door, and walked to the front of the house. I opened the front door and out ran a bunch of kids, some dogs and cats and most unfortunately, my cat Hobbes. He ran on out with the rest of them and I screamed for him to come back until I realized how stupid that was. He wasn't going to come near me if I was screaming so I sat down in the driveway and called him softly until he came back.

Then I went into the house and discovered my my friend had left forever and left me a note that said "You'll always be my funny little christmas light."

Then I drove my silver Porsche/Jaguar to the church I grew up in because I wanted to suprise my mom. I didn't see my mom there so I sat down in a wooden pew next to Cheryl Meryl and she morphed into my cousin Cheryl. Then I found myself up in the rafters, surrounded by a big snake, which was really no big deal, in fact I thought it was rather a neat snake. That is, until I realized that if I pissed it off it might squeeze me to death. So I put my hands around its throat and prepared to choke it to death if it started squeezing. Soon it became clear that this put us both in a stalemate, and that's when I woke up.

Aunt Spam

It came to pass one day that I was holding the grandchild of a friend of mine. We were talking and laughing when she noticed that the little guy could not take his eyes off my chest! Maybe it was because most babies have a thing about breasts for natural reasons, but also probably because the word SPAM was emblazoned in large yellow letters across the front of this T Shirt. The shirt was a freebie my mom got from the radio station she was working for. Why a SPAM shirt got sent to this radio station, I'm not sure but it was great fun to wear. I still have it somewhere.....

Not only are the letters big, but this was "pre-reduction", and I was rather large underneath it. This created quite an impressive navy blue and yellow billboard of sorts advertizing SPAM. I should have been paid for it!

Anyway, this little baby sat and stared at my SPAM chest a good deal of the morning. Even when I wasn't holding him, if he was in sight of it he would stare and stare and stare. Soon my friend started calling me Aunt Spam. Anytime I'd come around and the grandchild was there she'd say "LOOK!! it's your AUNT SPAM!!" And he'd get really excited because she was excited!

The name wore off eventually, but it was fun to be somebody's Aunt Spam for a little while.

*this story inspired by Real Live Preacher's post Tastefully Tacky.

Stink and Love

My dear little kitty Mocha is my sweet, sweet girly. She is the cutest thing and has as wonderful of a personality as any cat I know. Yes, I realize she is an animal. But she's my little animal and this is my blog so you get to bear with me going on about her now and then.

So anyway, Mocha is a darling but she also has an overactive anal gland, and horrible breath. I'm sayin' she STINKS sometimes. Usually she's fine, but sometimes when the temperature is up and the wind is down, she smells very very bad.

However, she is so otherwise lovable that I am more than willing to ignore it when she is odiferous. Today, I'm feelin a cold coming on so I got some chicken soup started on the stove, I lit the kerosene heater, bundled up with an afghan and snuggled down to read for a while. Mocha promptly settled on top of me and began grooming. This means she's very happy, and I watched her a while and enjoyed being warm and cuddly with my kitty. Then, she yawned widely and I could smell her alligator breath. I said "Oh, Mocha you are so stinky!" Then she looked at me, one eye still stuck shut from the yawn, and her pink little tongue sticking out just a little and I couldn't help but say "Oh, Mocha you are so darn cute I can hardly stand it!" And I just love her, no matter how much she stinks.

And it got me to thinking about what a great blessing it is when we find ourselves with people who love us even when we put up a stink - who find us ever so adorable no matter what our silly quirks are.