so they took their places and smote the grey sea with their oars

From an email I wrote, today:

Finally I would like to add a personal story of mine. I was raised in a family of drinkers and drug users. They were “functional”, they worked, they didn’t get into trouble with the law, and they were very stylish (or at least, I thought so!). Nevertheless as a child I felt an intense fear they weren’t “with it”, they weren’t there. After they began drinking they were floating off on a cloud and they weren’t there to care for me. I was aware of this, I had this perception (real or imagined!) at a young age. By the time I was twelve this fear had grown into a spirit of resentment. By this time, I perceived them as indolent, sloppy, lazy, Lotus-eaters and my heart smarted at abuses and neglect I’d suffered.
 
I became an alcoholic. The thought I might be an alcholic started to occur to me as a young mother, not that long ago really, and I was baffled. I didn’t drug, and I drank less than my family of origin, and my pride smarted at the thought I was anything like them. After all I had a “perfect” family life, we were nothing like those people! And yet I could tell this thing was hooking me. I didn’t want to be an alcoholic. In fact I wished desperately for almost any other kind of problem, because being an alcoholic was intolerable to me!
 
But one day I admitted to my innermost self and to a handful of people in a room I was an alcoholic. This was my first sober day. I remember it was like the Biblical quote, “something like scales fell away from [my] eyes”, as I perceived in that moment that no matter what my family did, no matter if their dysfunction, however severe or mild, had “caused” my problems, I was the one with the problem. I was living out, or continuing, the Problem within my family, and they could no longer solve it for me. It was down to me. I remember having a vision of being a small child and receiving an inoculation that gave me this thing, this addiction. It didn’t matter where I got it or how, it was as my doctor would later say: “What are you going to do about it?”
 
I have been sober some time today; I am a medical anomaly if not miracle. Despite this, every day I know less about why I’m an alcoholic or how I “got” it. I used to have fixed ideas on the subject; now I don’t. I am just incredibly grateful I perceived my problem and I took responsibility for it. I’m incredibly grateful this problem changed from something that was “done to” me (as a child) and became something I could do something about.

No, seriously.

2012 02 Tumblehome

OK, the new issue of Tumbleho.me rocks. Specifically: Ralph’s piece on children and gaming (which ended up longer than he intended and is the better for it!), my how-to on sewing a swimsuit, the graphic artwork, some great local writing from poet and bibliophile Dwight Johnson, and three delicious recipes. There’s more stuff of course, these are just kind of the crown jewels of the business.

The zine will be available gratis in April, when the next issue publishes. I adore, adore! receiving writings, poetry, artwork, media reviews, and photography from committed and talented individuals. Please consider contributing!

Honor Blackman

“I must be dreaming!”

Honor Blackman

Tonight: 6 PM Pacific Standard Time, #BondBFFs with my friend @court_anonymous and whomever else is COOL ENOUGH TO JOIN US. We are watching the third of the Bond films, Goldfinger. FEATURING  my favorite Bond girl of all time, Pussy Galore! Galore was played by Honor Blackman at age 39, and is to date the oldest actress cast as a Bond girl (the oldest Bond was Roger Moore, who played the spy at age 57 in A View To A Kill). She is also so damn fine I go to my happy place every time she’s onscreen.

 
Goldfinger is the only Ian Fleming Bond novel I’ve read. I read it in grade school, but even at that young age I remember being repulsed by the book’s misogyny. To wit, Bond “turns” Pussy from lesbian to dude-lovin’. Worse, the book KILLS OFF Tilly Masterson, another lesbian who doesn’t sleep with Bond by the way, and immediately upon her demise Bond says, ““Poor little bitch. She didn’t think much of men.”

VERILY THOU MUST WORSHIP THE TROUSER-SAUSAGE OR YE WILL BE SMOTE

Follow our commentary at #BondBFFs on awesometi.me; better yet, get your copy of Goldfinger*, pause the film immediately after the MGM lion fades, and press play again at exactly 6 PM PST according to this site’s clock.

* (My advice? Buy a legal version, and download/torrent it to put the file on the computer through VLC or some such, so streaming internet doesn’t make viewing stutter.)

big sacks of flour

Dinner Awaits

As some of you may or may not know, our primary source of income has not been receiving pay raises as per “normal” for a couple years; & in fact has been receiving cuts, as the result of state-wide budget changes.

As of this morning I have a debit card hooked up to my Paypal. Any donations sent here – and I do appreciate them – are used for groceries, pretty much immediately. Sorry I’m not too glamorous about blog donations, but, there it is. Probably pinto beans, coffee, flour, milk, bananas, peanut butter, &/or Nutella will be involved. Unless you want to specify I use the funds for something specific. By all means.

I appreciate all forms of support. Thank you, my lovely readers.

amongst the hungry ghosts

Purple Sky, No Filter

 
I have been released from the wheel of suffering in some way I cannot fully explain. In a film I viewed last night, I seem to remember a man talking as if some great power picked one up and shook one like a snow globe. I perceive things entirely differently than I used to. My insides were shook up and are now reorganized. I am not sure if others can tell. It is one of the most joyous experiences of my life, and it continues steadily day by day.

Today I walked with my son a few miles in the cold. We had good winter clothes to keep us warm, and we had one another for company. He is so incredibly dear to me, and I get to be with him every day.

When I go places people often stare at me. I do not know if it is my appearance, or if it is my Being, or if it’s just Grays Harbor and people gawk (this is a real thing!). Perhaps I have been stared at this way before, and I only notice now. I know I am more Naked than I used to be, and I am as they say, “comfortable in my own skin”. I don’t mind being stared at as I don’t feel anxiety around other people. Very often [she added].

For many years I was not comfortable in my own skin. I was too this or that, or not enough one thing or another. Other people did not behave in the ways I wanted them to. So I had to arrange a great deal of things in my life, to find life tolerable. I flitted from pleasure to pleasure and I decried the existence of those people, or events, which gave me pain. I don’t live that way now and I hope to never live that way again. I am aware I may not get to decide a great deal about my future, but I am grateful for this experience. Life is quite the gift.

the covered button says, “I LOVE YOU”

Local class: I teach you how to sew a cup cozy at Grays General. The class is in one week and registration is due today. This cozy can be used on the trendy Cuppow/Mason/Ball jar, on your favorite mug (or an ugly one you want to cover up!), and even as a sleeve on disposable cups. The design idea comes from Ashley, although I winged it & wrote my own instructions etc.

Cup Cozy

Cup Cozy

Sew a Coffee Cup Cozy
December 4th @ 5:30pm
$20 Registration Fee
Instructor: Kelly Hogaboom
This easy-to-sew coffee cozy works on the Cuppow, on to-go coffee, or even at home with your favorite mug. All materials provided including an instruction booklet to take home. Coffee, tea, and biscuits served! Signups due one week prior to class.