little blue float plane

I love this photo and I made it my whateverthehell photo on Facebook. You know the photo that once you switch over to Timeline you can put up a photo that’s even bigger than your profile picture? This may have been from our last beach day. Was that still August? Yikes. No, I think it was already September. Jeez. I can’t remember and I don’t want to think as hard as I’d need to to figure it out, accuracy be damned!

I like this little float plane.

Today, the leaves were perfect. We drove up out of the Valley and as the air is colder at night up in the hill towns, the leaves were already looking like they had peaked. But they haven’t. Just some of them. It was raining and damp so the colors popped as you know they do.

I loved this little float plane and some kid must have left it on the beach because it was near sundown and the plane was all alone. I had my eye on it for a few hours. I wanted it. I wanted to take it home. As the tide came in, I kept moving it up the sand so it wouldn’t float away and pollute the water even more than however polluted it already is. As if this made any sense. Like Holden Caulfield in his innocence and naivety thinks he can save the kids.

When I finally approached the little float plane, it was much cheaper than I had imagined it was from a distance. I had this image in my head like it was some superior plastic and like it was a real plane somehow. It had the power to fly me away or to keep me overnight at the beach so I could live on the beach every day, just a tide of mornings with my little blue, solid and superior plastic plane, to a tide of nights. Me and my plane and the beach and the tides. An endless end of summer.

The plane was full of little gaps in the plastic, little seams that let the water seep in so that it didn’t really float like I thought it would when I placed it on top of the shallow ocean. It sort of tipped its wing and then I didn’t want it. I only wanted the perfect little plane of my imagination.

That is wrong on so many levels. First, I was going to steal the plane. I mean, really. That was the first thing. Then, when I got the courage up to get closer to it after a couple of hours of keeping my eye on it, I didn’t even want it because it wasn’t good enough. It’s just a crappy plastic plane made in China that will stay here on the earth for thousands of years, not breaking down, probably choking a beautiful aquatic mammal. But look. I got it. This is the way it was for me, the way I first saw it. I know you can see it, too. Look at the sand and the light. It really is perfect after all.

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Top 5

I love you too much!

Top 5 Heroin Songs

1. Heroin

2. Lust for Life (Hubby calls it “the happiest song about kicking smack ever written!”)

3. Needle and the Damage Done (not my fave NY song, but what the hey hey my my, it qualifies!)

4. Comfortably Numb (I’m not too fond of this, but it makes the list, OBVIOUSLY)

4.5. Bridge Over Troubled Water/Hey, Jude OKAY, so these aren’t really about smack, but I like the urban myths anyway

5. Honorable Mention: Sister Morphine

Top 5 Reasons I Can’t Sleep

1. itching on bottom of L foot

2. clutter

3. house too small/brain crowded

4. depression

5. went to bed after 11

6. new sheets felt scratchy

7. too hot/too cold

8. cat on bed, cat on head

Top 5 Haunted Things in My House

1. my remote mouse

2. my body

3. cat

Top 5 Reasons to Move out of This House

1. too small

2. on 116

3. on corner of busy road; fear of air pollution from too many cars and shortened life span from stress of traffic noise and bad air

4. 2 cats killed by cars

5. bad basement smell from Day 1 of purchase

6. it’s a ranch

7. it has no character

8. the bedrooms are next to the kitchen

9. hollow doors, not worth replacing considering 1-8

Top 5 Reasons to Stay

1. price

2. most convenient location in the world

3. must clear out clutter if we move

Top 5 Hottest Male Stars of All Time

1. Gary Oldman

2. Paul Newman

3. Javier Bardem

4. DDL

5. DDL in a loin cloth or as Bill the Butcher

6. Johnny Depp, but let’s drop the cigarettes already, Johnny, okay?

7. Anthony Hopkins

8. Heath

9. Leo di Caprio, especially that sex scene from The Beach

10. EWAN!

11. Alan Cumming

Top 5 Numbers of All Time

1. 3

2. 449

3. 25

4. point O O one

5. 225

Top 5 Vegetables

1. sweet potatoes

2. kale

3. that clean, local, nitrate-free bacon

4. some forms of chocolate

5. any perfectly-prepared coffee-blended

Top 5 Vacation Spots

1. Hanalei Bay, Kauai

2. Truro

3. P town

4. Paris

5. Prague

6. Amsterdam and Venice

7. the ocean

8. all the lakes of my childhood

9. Boulder

10. Annecy

11. New Mexico

12. New England

13. not camping

14. almost anywhere with my Hubby

Top 5 Friends

1. women

Top 5 Meals

1. Canada on a farm, long ago, I was 16, maybe 17, in high school, but I remember the peach pie and the homemade bread. And I don’t even like pie.

2. 2 meals at Parisian restaurant run by Greek chef, not sure which arr. I ate there once in 1991 and once in 1992. Around the corner was one of those free-standing Haagan Daaz ice cream stores and I got a chocolate-chocolate chip (cone?). It was SO good, not at all what you get in the pints any more. I really do remember it.

3. my mother’s spaghetti before she started to lose her memory

4. papaya with lime in Hawaii

5. Amsterdam open market

6. trdelnik

Worst Place to Pee EVER

1. darkly-lit hole in the ground (granted there were metal foot plates) when I was on my period behind best meal ever in Paris

Coolest Public Bathroom Experience Ever

1. Prague self-cleaning, automated, public loo (is it environmentally sound with all of that water use? I do not know)

Top 5 Worst Smells

1. the pee of Paris

2. poop of blind dog I took care of for a week in high school when owners were away

3. paper mill

4. driving through Gary, Indiana

5. big cities combo of exhaust and garbage when you’re just grooving around on foot

6. dead things in the woods

7. chemical detergent scents. REALLY? REALLY? Is this what you want to smell like?

8. mildewed clothes

9. pee clothes (I know it’s sad and some people can’t help it, but I do not like it)

10. boy pee vs. girl pee (boy pee is stronger (until menopause) and they get it all over everything. This is one reason why having 2 daughters, as opposed to any sons, works out pretty good for me)

11. cat pee/litter box

It Would Be Impossible To Put Down Top 5 Movies

I do love Rushmore, as you know. And Gangs of New York until the plot falls apart at the end and of course the unfortunate choice of Cameron Diaz.

There Will Be Blood except for Paul Dano. Elizabeth because it is so dramatic and Cate Blanchett is so beautiful and amazing. The Front, which we just saw for the final film of the Woody Allen revival at Amherst Cinema. Unforgiven—totally entertaining. Not a big fan of Spielberg, but I loved Catch Me If You Can for the fun of it. American masterpieces: Hard Time; Five Easy Pieces; Thunderbolt and Lightfoot; A Woman Under the Influence.

The Adventures of Baron Munchausen. The Fisher King.

The Godfather I and II because they are also masterpieces of American cinema. Nostalgia, though I don’t remember it.

Pennies From Heaven and Days of Heaven; Heavenly Creatures (okay, it’s not one of my favorites, but it does have the lovely Kate Winslet and keeps the theme of movie titles with the word heaven in them. And it’s Peter Jackson and very very trippy).

Some of the images from The Fall, especially the opening sequence.

Top 5 Rolling Stones Songs

1. Sweet Virginia

2. Can’t You Hear Me Knocking

3. Loving Cup

I give up already. This shit just got real, yo.

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tie a little pink ribbon around your finger before you go to bed tonight and come hear me read some of my poems tomorrow!

I’ll be reading some of my poetry alongside Suzanne Haugh, Hilary Gardiner, and Rachel Adams tomorrow night at 8 pm at Rao’s Coffee in Amherst. There will be an open mic after the featured readers.

Hope to see you there!

kiss, kiss, twinkly

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something fishy

(This Is Not My Fridge)

(this fridge costs 2700 smackaroos)

Something smells funny in my new fridge.

All of these not-made-to-last appliances are overpriced. Every one of them. Already, the handle to the freezer door won’t stay on and the freezer-light mechanism does not always properly activate.

But that smell. I have not yet put a box of baking soda in the fridge. Maybe that will help.

My friend back in Kent, Ohio said they had a bad smell in the house.

She was playing the Ouija (©) and it said something about kitchen sink or sponge and kitchen cabinet or sponge under sink (I’ve never played, so I don’t know how much it can spell out). Or maybe she asked a psychic what the smell was and the psychic told her remove the sponge that is under the kitchen sink.

Anyway, she removed a sponge (which she says was new and odorless) and the smell left the house.

Maybe my refrigerator is cursed or haunted. I had a weird haunted goat-walking-man dream last night. Maybe that is why my fridge smells.

This goat-man is scary, but also a bit debonair. My goat man was very evil and was trying to walk upright and not doing a very good job of it. He was wearing blue jeans. He really couldn’t pull off the human walk. He didn’t fool me, but the little goat he was abusing who followed obsequiously behind was under his evil power.

Why does fridge have a d but refrigerator doesn’t? Learning to spell in English is so trying!

I think I better get my facts straight on that smelly house story. It was told to me only once and at least 20 years ago. I’ve undoubtedly embellished.

If I had a pink 1950s fridge, I don’t think I’d have this problem. Then again, remember those ice cube trays that were such a pain-in-the-ass (these lasted up into the ’60s, maybe early ’70s even)? What a mess, all the ice shattered all over the counter and it tasted like metal. No wonder women wanted to stick their heads into their pink ovens with the gas on.

Still, one has nostalgia for these kinds of things.

It never occurred to me that Ouija is OUI and JA: YES YES. Not only that, but it seems to imply that the French and the Germans are very agreeable.

I thought the Ouija is always answering yes and no. A OUINON board would probably be too close to the French for onion (l’oignon). Or NEINJA would be too much like Ninja.

If anyone out there has any suggestions about my fridge smell, please leave a comment. I need all the help I can get. I don’t even have a job.

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can hardly wait

Even if I end up not liking this movie in any way or for whatever reason, THIS is a trailer, my friends. All trailers should be this interesting. All trailers should leave one wanting more at this fever pitch. I almost don’t want to ruin it by seeing the movie. I used to not care for Joaquin Phoenix, but he won me over in Walk the Line. I can’t say too many people are this compelling on screen, this immediately. He is both larger than life and completely familiar and credible. Amazing. Maybe next weekend if I’m lucky.

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the tiny visitor

When I was a kid, I had a book about a tiny woodland family that a little girl finds and brings home. She makes them a little house and uses a little wooden spool for a table for them and all sorts of things. I still have the book. It’s all banged up, a small paperback without acid-free pages, obviously. When I found the book a few years ago and read it to my daughters, the story was not as good as I remembered. I loved that book so much. Probably because of all the cuteness of the tiny objects the girl uses to welcome the tiny family. I think that is the name. The Tiny Family. It is by the same guy who wrote the Clifford books, Norman Birdswell. Okay. I did not look any of that up to check for accuracy. I will though because you know how compulsive I am about accuracy.

I am so glad I looked that up. I’m leaving all of my inaccuracies up there, though. Aren’t you proud of me? I got the last name wrong, as you can see. 50 cents, can you believe it? That is how old I am. Why doesn’t my computer have a cent symbol? You don’t like pennies Steve Jobs (RIP)? Oh, crap. I found it. Here: ¢. You want me to do that again? Here: ¢. I could do this all night. Look: ¢. WordPress, all is forgiven. twinkly forgives you for all of your faults. At least for now.

My point is that I haven’t had a period in 5 or 6 months. Mostly because of my fabulous, life-saving, bleeding-stopping acupuncturist. The ONLY person who had a real solution last winter when I was suffering from anemia and wouldn’t stop bleeding for ever and ever. Not the standard medical approach which just kept me bleeding and bleeding and losing more and more blood by the minute the minute I went off of progesterone (You’ll get a period, only it will probably be lighter and won’t last as long MY ASS!).

Well, yours truly started bleeding 11 days ago and I haven’t stopped yet. I’m starting to get anemic. I can feel it. It’s been a few days coming on now. Headaches, dizziness, sore throat, weakness, breathlessness (not the good kind). Yes, of course I take extra iron. But now I have to start eating red meat and more kale (I eat kale about 2ce a week year ’round anyway). Now I have to cook in a cast iron pan (Wait. I already do that regularly too). Now I have to ? See? I have been without my period for so long, I forgot what to do. Wait! I know something….¢

My tiny visitor is back. She is red. She does not wear a tiny flower for a hat. She does not sit on a thimble when she eats her breakfast. She is the same one who visited last year for 67 days out of 90. She is the one I love but who should only be here for a couple of days and then leave me the fuck alone.

Needless to say, I started taking my Yunnan Baiyao TODAY. 11 days is enough. But I’m not in menopause so there’s always that gift. You should see my boobs. LIKE A TEENAGER, I tell you! I will miss them when all of this stops. I really haven’t had boobs like this since my 20s. I won’t miss my other plumpness, though. Fuck you, you midsection bloat.

Sigh Sigh, Tiny Visitor. Sew and Flow, beautiful red flower in my underpants. I hope not to see you for a while. But thanks for the boobs. It was fun (and somewhat painful fer chrissakes! these babies hurt!) while it lasted. One day I’ll kiss you good-bye for good, I just won’t know it until a whole fucking year goes by. Haven’t gotten there yet.

This chart is bullshit. Fuck this chart. It is totally inaccurate. It’s not even red or bloody.

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this used to be thankful thursday

1. this song

2. I will, from now on, call writing poetry, poeming, without apologies and without explanation and even in submissions: Dear Editor of Journal I Will Likely Not See My Work Published In Ever: I have been poeming for x number of years. Kiss my ass.

3. not really. I will NEVER do that.

4. kiss my everloving tattooed ass hip

5. when I am alone driving, driving and crying go hand-in-hand

6. (to drive is to cry)

7. The Silos were a great band. Too bad about their lack of making it big. DAMN.

8. You know that month where people write a poem a day? It is called NaPoWriMo. I will probably never do that. I am one who falls into the camp of not finding prompts or deadlines or challenges particularly necessary or helpful for my writing though they can be fun and somewhat useful. But I have decided I will submit one batch of poems per day for 30 days. Started yesterday. Kiss my ass.

9. More Silos. No visuals, just the song. Listen to it before it gets copyright-infringed. Then buy the tune for your iPod. Don’t be a cheapskate. Our friend once categorized their music as “Domestic Rock.” Pretty accurate I’d say.

10. I had to have my necklace/bracelet (it is long enough to go twice around my neck and 5 times around my wrist) repaired because I never took it off. I wore it in the shower, to sleep, in the ocean, to yoga class, on bike rides, on hikes, in the bath tub. I was too hard on it.

11. I wrote hard on and I’m pointing it out to you as if you hadn’t noticed. How juvenile of us. But really, can we help it?

12. If I write kiss my ass in a post, I feel I owe a debt of gratitude and recognition to Erin O’Brien. Every time. As if she made up the phrase which I don’t think she did, but if someone told me that she did, I would totally believe it.

13. I get a lot of hits for “ass tattoo.” But mine is really on my hip, as you know. My acupuncturist knows.

14. I can’t find a good photo of my beautiful necklace (made by none other than Rebecca Rose), but you see it in many of my photos. I am going to post a photo of a gemstone from Amherst College that has roughly the same color blue as my necklace:

15. Okay. I have written a few “poems” lately. But what a mess.

16. It’s getting late. I gotta go so I can submit.

17. Ass Tattoo on Hip:

I know there’s a funny little bruise on my mid-section. So strange. And this is way before my cracked rib.

18. Consignment belt I love ♥! All those studs make me feel a. hip and b. skinny and c. tough

19. pink

20. Should I stop? Probably time to submit my poems. I hate this already.

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glory be! I think I’m writing again

A new piece, very very rough

A Mother’s Gifts

I’d say it was stark

the way the student drove
on the wrong side of the road
side-swiping my mother’s Toyota

She pats its dashboard
like a schoolboy’s head
there, there; good car, good car

We listen daily to the story
of her first driver’s test

new to America,
fresh from her Nazi father

bribing the proctor
with a twenty
while her hands shook

She’s slipping
and
I’m slow to wake to it

When I finally see,
I want 50 bucks
to bribe my way out

I want my one call
from my cell
not to a lawyer
but to God

to shake his shoulders
and ask why
he left her alone with me

The car still needs to be fixed
the college student stays ignorant and votes for Romney

I live the hell unimagined
the one dream in which
my mother
does not know
who holds her in the death bed

I have to wake in an hour
and send my daughters to school,
my Flower Girls,
and me in the middle

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Music Sunday–Robyn Hitchcock “Glass Hotel”

Yes, I already posted today because I want to see you at my upcoming poetry reading. But that was just an announcement.

How about another twinkly first? Music SUNDAY, like Music Mondays of old. Still wish I could see him in Chicago in October doing all of Eye.

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SAVE THE DATE!!!

I’m sure a formal save-the-date invitation would look something like this:

I will be reading some of my poetry on Friday, September 28, 2012, 8 pm at Rao’s Coffee, Amherst.

This will be my first reading at Rao’s and first time as a scheduled (as opposed to open mic) poet. I believe we are each allotted 10-15 minutes of reading time and I will be in good company alongside a few other Valley poets. I hope to find out who is on the roster soon so I can share that information with you asap.

I look forward to your presence even though something tells me I’ve got the whole save-the-date thing wrong—like I was supposed to announce it earlier and send each of you a tin of tiny mints. For now, you get this, right here on my blog, today.

I hope to see you there (triple exclamation points), Katherine

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