I got a flu shot last night and have felt like total crap ever since.
My head feels empty. Trying to get stuff done when I feel like this seems like an insurmountable task.
Saturday, February 26, 2011
Friday, February 25, 2011
dream
Last night I had this very vivid dream that I had traveled to a distant galaxy. I met some interesting beings along the way. I even think Mr. Sulu made an appearance at one point. I don't recall being in an enclosed ship, I was just floating.
I looked down at my watch and realized it was getting close to what time I had to be at work. Somehow I was able to see Earth from where I was. I asked one of traveling companions how long it would take for me to get back to Earth on my own and he said "about 6 years".
Shit. I was screwed.
But, my new friend offered me a ride. In an instant I found myself stuck in traffic on 280 in San Jose. I needed to get to Menlo Park and fast.
I had traveled millions of light years in an instant only to be foiled by the morning commute.
I looked down at my watch and realized it was getting close to what time I had to be at work. Somehow I was able to see Earth from where I was. I asked one of traveling companions how long it would take for me to get back to Earth on my own and he said "about 6 years".
Shit. I was screwed.
But, my new friend offered me a ride. In an instant I found myself stuck in traffic on 280 in San Jose. I needed to get to Menlo Park and fast.
I had traveled millions of light years in an instant only to be foiled by the morning commute.
Wednesday, February 23, 2011
sunburnt nipples*
What is it about female nipples that make them “obscene”? Objectively speaking how can anyone have a problem with nipples? I mean we all exist because of them and yet women are not allowed to bare them in public in this country.
While traveling through Corsica one summer with my boyfriend I decided to go topless on the beach. I was never a shy person, growing up I always ran around nude… of course, until my boobs started to sprout.
At 20 I was not much different. I always enjoyed skinny-dipping in the local lake, or at pool parties. But, it was different the first time I unhooked my top in public on a crowded beach on the Mediterranean.
I remember thinking, as I stood there alone “what’s the big deal? Guys get to and in America I can’t, so I better take advantage.”
So, I did. It snapped my top open and I threw it over my neck. There I stood half-naked on the beach. Part of me expected some sort of commotion, because I had been raised in the States. Of course nothing happened and I parked my contented self in a nice little spot on the warm sand.
My boyfriend arrived shocked and declared “Ah oaui, t’es bonne comme ca!” in his Parisian vernacular. It was kind of laughable. I mean I must have been the only woman on the beach with white boobs…
It felt so nice to be free and open and not worry about people thinking it was some kind of sexual thing. The water feels better, the sun feels better, the wind, the sand, everything. That day we sipped on wine and discussed a whole array of topics from American attitudes toward nudity, toward sex, toward violence.
I felt sort of proud and evolved. I soaked it all up as I lay there topless on my back. The sand was relaxing and the sound of waves entrancing.
Twenty minutes later I sat up and realized I had burned my nipples since they had never been exposed to sun for prolonged periods… AIE!
Or how we say in America, OUCH!
*this is a repost from my old blog
While traveling through Corsica one summer with my boyfriend I decided to go topless on the beach. I was never a shy person, growing up I always ran around nude… of course, until my boobs started to sprout.
At 20 I was not much different. I always enjoyed skinny-dipping in the local lake, or at pool parties. But, it was different the first time I unhooked my top in public on a crowded beach on the Mediterranean.
I remember thinking, as I stood there alone “what’s the big deal? Guys get to and in America I can’t, so I better take advantage.”
So, I did. It snapped my top open and I threw it over my neck. There I stood half-naked on the beach. Part of me expected some sort of commotion, because I had been raised in the States. Of course nothing happened and I parked my contented self in a nice little spot on the warm sand.
My boyfriend arrived shocked and declared “Ah oaui, t’es bonne comme ca!” in his Parisian vernacular. It was kind of laughable. I mean I must have been the only woman on the beach with white boobs…
It felt so nice to be free and open and not worry about people thinking it was some kind of sexual thing. The water feels better, the sun feels better, the wind, the sand, everything. That day we sipped on wine and discussed a whole array of topics from American attitudes toward nudity, toward sex, toward violence.
I felt sort of proud and evolved. I soaked it all up as I lay there topless on my back. The sand was relaxing and the sound of waves entrancing.
Twenty minutes later I sat up and realized I had burned my nipples since they had never been exposed to sun for prolonged periods… AIE!
Or how we say in America, OUCH!
*this is a repost from my old blog
Tuesday, February 22, 2011
Still no word
I'm so sad about this whole bike situation. I hold myself responsible but I still wish we could live in a world where people did not take things that didn't belong to them.
Sunday, February 20, 2011
Ode to my bike :(
My bike was stolen.
And I want to cry,
but rather instead
I wish the theif to die. (maybe a bit dramatic)
I will hunt you down
And discover my bike.
I'm sure there are many
Who know what this feels like.
Please come home my dear
I miss you so already.
If you are enjoying your time away
At least come home when you are ready.
.
And I want to cry,
but rather instead
I wish the theif to die. (maybe a bit dramatic)
I will hunt you down
And discover my bike.
I'm sure there are many
Who know what this feels like.
Please come home my dear
I miss you so already.
If you are enjoying your time away
At least come home when you are ready.
.
Wednesday, February 16, 2011
Tuesday, February 15, 2011
Comedy
I have to put this out there. For any of you who enjoy a good laugh you should definitely check out the British comedy writes Mitchell and Webb. They do a show called Peep Show which is basically brilliant and they have a sketch comedy show called That Mitchell and Webb Look. It is a very different sort of breed of English humor, not as uncomfortable as Ricky Gervais but, enough to make you cringe from time to time.
Monday, February 14, 2011
emotional outburst
I am feeling particularly low this Valentine's day. Someone who I had a lot of respect for sent me a very cruel email. I reacted in a way that I am not proud of. I basically told him to get bent... which he deserves , yet it makes me unhappy with myself to have that kind of response. I should have just ignored it. Now I look like a jerk.
Friday, February 11, 2011
The time I almost choked to death
About a week ago my friend Martin and I went to see Black Swan. It was great film and somehow on the drive home I suddenly remembered almost dying when I was a kid, something I had totally forgotten about. The memory once recalled was quite clear and vivid.
When I was about 3 or 4 years old I almost choked to death on a piece of hard candy. It was a week night I believe. Sometime around 7 o'clock. My friend Candice was over with her mom. She was my age. Her mom worked at the bank with my mom. They were both bank tellers.
I was sucking on a piece of candy. It was far too big. It was cherry flavor. It had the texture of a jawbreaker but instead of being spherical it was a heart. And it was red.
Candice must have given me the candy because my mother was not in the habit of giving us sweets.
I don't recall how I got it lodged in my trachea. I must have been sucking on it and laughing or talking. I was most likely giggling when it became stuck. All I know is it got stuck there and my brother noticed something was wrong. He told my mom that I wasn't breathing.
My mom dialed 911 on the yellow rotary phone we had on the wall in the kitchen. It sat inside a little phone booth framed into the wall and it had a little sill under it to hold any pens or pads of paper you would use to write messages or phone numbers. I remember how long it would take to dial the numbers. The fast clicks forward like a zipper and the slower clicks back until you could start on a new number.
My mom looked at me with terror and I remember standing next to the giant dark brown hosier my parents kept on that wall by the phone. I hated that hosier. it looked like a big monster of furniture to me. It was old a funky and we didn't see eye to eye. That hosier was ancient and didn't make sense to me. Why keep something so old and has drawers for sacks of flour and bins for grains? It was 1983 for Christ's sake.
It had these single pane glass windows in the cabinets. The kind of glass you could break if you just poked it a little to hard. That couldn't be safe.
My toes turned blue. My mom shouted on the phone. I don't recall exactly what she said but, she put the phone down at one point.
Happy Days was on TV in the other room. I remember hearing "Sunday Monday Happy Days" and kind of feeling like I was dizzy. I don't think I panicked.
When the human trachea gets obstructed deep enough the only way to expel the blockage is by putting pressure on the lungs, by way of pressing up on the diaphragm. In my case it was my mother who performed this task.
I remember the flavor of that piece of candy. I remember the shape and the way it glistened in the dim light of the kitchen as it shot across the room. It seemed to go on forever like it was floating. I don't think that candy broke when it hit the ground.
I walked into the living room sat down and my friend Candice looked over at me and said "Hey Emilie. Look it's the Fonz!"
When I was about 3 or 4 years old I almost choked to death on a piece of hard candy. It was a week night I believe. Sometime around 7 o'clock. My friend Candice was over with her mom. She was my age. Her mom worked at the bank with my mom. They were both bank tellers.
I was sucking on a piece of candy. It was far too big. It was cherry flavor. It had the texture of a jawbreaker but instead of being spherical it was a heart. And it was red.
Candice must have given me the candy because my mother was not in the habit of giving us sweets.
I don't recall how I got it lodged in my trachea. I must have been sucking on it and laughing or talking. I was most likely giggling when it became stuck. All I know is it got stuck there and my brother noticed something was wrong. He told my mom that I wasn't breathing.
My mom dialed 911 on the yellow rotary phone we had on the wall in the kitchen. It sat inside a little phone booth framed into the wall and it had a little sill under it to hold any pens or pads of paper you would use to write messages or phone numbers. I remember how long it would take to dial the numbers. The fast clicks forward like a zipper and the slower clicks back until you could start on a new number.
My mom looked at me with terror and I remember standing next to the giant dark brown hosier my parents kept on that wall by the phone. I hated that hosier. it looked like a big monster of furniture to me. It was old a funky and we didn't see eye to eye. That hosier was ancient and didn't make sense to me. Why keep something so old and has drawers for sacks of flour and bins for grains? It was 1983 for Christ's sake.
It had these single pane glass windows in the cabinets. The kind of glass you could break if you just poked it a little to hard. That couldn't be safe.
My toes turned blue. My mom shouted on the phone. I don't recall exactly what she said but, she put the phone down at one point.
Happy Days was on TV in the other room. I remember hearing "Sunday Monday Happy Days" and kind of feeling like I was dizzy. I don't think I panicked.
When the human trachea gets obstructed deep enough the only way to expel the blockage is by putting pressure on the lungs, by way of pressing up on the diaphragm. In my case it was my mother who performed this task.
I remember the flavor of that piece of candy. I remember the shape and the way it glistened in the dim light of the kitchen as it shot across the room. It seemed to go on forever like it was floating. I don't think that candy broke when it hit the ground.
I walked into the living room sat down and my friend Candice looked over at me and said "Hey Emilie. Look it's the Fonz!"
Tum Tum Tea Time
I'm inspired to create constantly. To live an examined life and to share my thoughts and feelings with you.
Welcome to Tum Tum Tea Time.
It's all about those little things that sometime go unappreciated or just forgotten. Those little things are what make life worth living and sometime worth struggling through. Too often we choose to filter out the good and focus too much on the bad.
I was recently at a friend's home in Woodside and we were laughing and having a wonderful conversation and somehow the concept of making homemade mint tea for the tummy came up and I was suddenly struck by "Tum Tum Tea"..
I love tea and I love my friends and Tum Tum tea is somewhat like tea for the soul. That warm feeling you get from appreciating and seeing the beauty in your daily life without cynicism. That is priceless.
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