in vino veritas

Hello from K&L Wine Merchants (KLWines.com)



We wanted to let you know the status of your order. Your order is ready for pickup.



I just ordered wine on the internet. My life as I know it is over.



(If you're interested, this is what I bought: 2005 Klinker Brick "Old Vine" Lodi Zinfandel; 2004 Hitching Post "Purisima Mountain" Santa Ynez Syrah)

the bars can not hold me

the Guild, originally uploaded by maisnon.

So. Less than a week until I move. When I started this, I thought, "Moving is always hell, and the hell stretches and fills all the time you have. You may as well condense it down." And, for the most part, this strategy has worked.

One of the best parts about NOT being a student, is being able to pay for movers. The Mighty volunteered to help me move, but her eyes were pleading, "Please don't say yes!" I volunteered to just buy her pizza and beer and pretend that she'd helped me.

I'd like to think that I'm more into experiences that I am into things, but the number of boxes I have cluttering my apartment at this moment would prove that to be a lie. How? Why? No idea. I'm culling as much as I can - and THAT's the thing that has suffered with the express move. I think, given more time, I would have done a more thorough job on the "slash and burn" (translation: trash and Goodwill.)

This weekend, I was at my fabulous threader, and another of her clients thought that we were mother and daughter (a huge compliment to me!) Also, this weekend, I walked down the block to get sushi and snapped this photo of "my" movie theater. There are things I'm leaving. To keep me juiced and moving forward on the move, I've kept my eye on the future: restaurants I want to check out, routines I want to establish, ideas I have. I haven't taken the time to appreciate the things, people, and places that I'm leaving behind.

Maybe that's a good thing. I have a tendency to get pouty and draggy in the face of change - even if I'm moving towards something I want. The situation being what it is, I'm hoping that I'll hit nostalgia and longing when I'm already enjoying the pleasures of my new home.

stereoimage

I've wanted to write about turning the corner in the hope that what I've realized might help someone else. Distilling it down, it is this: when you realize that it is broken, when you give up the idea that you have to (or even CAN) fix it - there is release and such freedom. Things that were unbearable suddenly aren't. Where you had no space and no distance, you have insta-perspective. The claustrophobia dissipates, and the horizon seems to stretch on endlessly.

I've had this feeling a few times in my life, when I finally managed to shed certain jobs, friendships, just ... situations. And it's a revelation every time.




I wish I could bottle this. I would keep it in a cool dark place in a brown medicine bottle with a white paper label:"Open in case of emergency."

jump!

Email convo with coworker (streamlined for those with short attention spans):

TheMighty: Btw, did this picture crack you up or what?

maisnon: Sadly, as a former cheerleader, my response was "point your toes!"

TheMighty: oh boy. i will have to use cheerleader admission^* in the future. AWESOME!!!

maisnon: Yeah, that would only work if I had any iota of a problem with being a former cheerleader. I don't. READY? OKAY!

^* This is meant in the legal sense: an acknowledgement of the truth of a statement, or a statement tending to establish the guilt or liability of the person making the statement.

55 Fiction Friday: Stay on These Roads edition

Friday returns!

Brows furrowed in concentration, she traced the thin red line with her fingernail. She exhaled and smiled. This was going to take longer than she had anticipated. She turned the key in the ignition, whipped her hair up into a ponytail, and turned up the volume. When she checked the rearview, her eyes looked happy.

mutate

Weekend update, bitchez!



Saturday

Went back to what will soon be the new apartment for a second look. I saw it last weekend and was enthralled enough to come straight home, fill out the application, write a cover letter and fax/email it all in. The rental company approved me and sent me the lease late in the week, and I had classic "buyer's remorse": I really hadn't had a very good look at it, I felt rushed because the tenant was in the apartment at the time, etc. etc.

The second look absolutely sealed the deal for me. I'm not saying it's the bestest apartment E!V!A!H! It most assuredly is not, but it's quite decent, and will suit me just fine. Plus, woodburning fireplace! (This means I need to learn how to USE a woodburning fireplace!)


I spent the rest of Bastille Day .... watching an English soccer team... play a Mexican one. At Stanford. Yeah, totally bizarre. Chelsea v. Club America at the Stanford Stadium was superfantastic. I bought tickets just as soon as I found out the game was on - so we were in the second row off the field! Close enough to see the sweat (and the quads, but I digress!) The cast of characters around us definitely added to the atmosphere. The row in front of us was crowded with Club America fans who, in true soccer-style, were terribly unsporting everytime Chelsea played well. Also hilarious: all kitted out in Club America gear, they still felt it was a-okay to try and sell Chelsea jerseys that they had purchased somewhere during halftime.



Sunday

I have a weird thing for music in Portugese. One of my favorite groups is Os Mutantes, a Brazilian, psych-era group known for their contributions to tropicalia. I can't begin to tell you how excited I was when I saw they were playing the Stern Grove Festival. Reneging slightly on my "month of me", I sent out an email to SF-peeps I know inviting them to join me. But, no matter, I ended up going by myself.

I arrived two hours early, but that was not early enough. I was up in the hills above the concert meadow. I managed to snag a seat with an obstructed view of the stage. It was the equivalent of a nose (or ear)-bleed seat. The main thoroughfare to get up the hill was to my left. As the day progressed, I watched more and more people slipsurf down the hill trying to descend. Eventually, people were straight falling on their asses.

The opening act was Los Amigos Invisibles, a Venezuelan group with a large following in the audience. And then, Os Mutantes took the stage wearing all manner of funked out costumes. Even at my great distance, it was great to see them live, and to sing along (okay - that was only to the one song they do in French.)

At the end of the show, one of the Brazilians near me stood and addressed the audience as a whole, "THIS IS BRAZILIAN MUSIC! YOU LIKE IT?" Yes, yes I do.

finally!

done and done.



I just signed a lease on a place in SF. I move at the end of the month.



Things are about to get really interesting.

break your eye open

In an episode of one of my favorite TV shows, Six Feet Under, Claire - the aspiring art student - is flipping through a book of Nan Goldin photographs. As she explains to her brother, she is trying to "break her eye open" and see new perspectives, without all of the tired associations we've formed.

.........

Björk has a song on her excellent, excellent album Debut entitled "There's more to Life than This." At one point she shuts herself in a washroom stall and stagewhispers:

I could nick a boat/ And sneak off to this island/I could bring my little ghettoblaster/There's more to life than this

........

That's where I am: somewhere between "breaking my eye open" and really, really getting that there's more to life than this. I feel like that's a lesson I learn over and over, sometimes in small ways - meeting someone at a party who has done/been to/simply is all these things I've never even though of - and big.

I'm full of ideas and epiphanies again, returning to my core values. The spring, it seems, is coiling.

Anatomy

I noticed a coworker flipping through "Hair Sophisticate" (not joking), and asked her what she was planning.

She: I'm looking at changing my hair color. Something like this .... or this .... or maybe this. Somewhere in there.

maisnon: Okay, so more red?

She: Yeah, I'm looking for drastic, yet subtle.

maisnon: Okay, this will end in tears.