A Site of Beef by Ann-S-Thesia
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10/29/2000 - 11/04/2000
11/05/2000 - 11/11/2000 11/12/2000 - 11/18/2000 11/19/2000 - 11/25/2000 11/26/2000 - 12/02/2000 12/03/2000 - 12/09/2000 12/10/2000 - 12/16/2000 12/17/2000 - 12/23/2000 12/24/2000 - 12/30/2000 12/31/2000 - 01/06/2001 01/07/2001 - 01/13/2001 01/14/2001 - 01/20/2001 01/21/2001 - 01/27/2001 01/28/2001 - 02/03/2001 02/04/2001 - 02/10/2001 02/11/2001 - 02/17/2001 02/18/2001 - 02/24/2001 02/25/2001 - 03/03/2001 03/04/2001 - 03/10/2001 03/11/2001 - 03/17/2001 03/18/2001 - 03/24/2001 03/25/2001 - 03/31/2001 04/01/2001 - 04/07/2001 04/08/2001 - 04/14/2001 04/15/2001 - 04/21/2001 04/22/2001 - 04/28/2001 04/29/2001 - 05/05/2001 05/06/2001 - 05/12/2001 05/13/2001 - 05/19/2001 05/20/2001 - 05/26/2001 05/27/2001 - 06/02/2001 06/03/2001 - 06/09/2001 06/10/2001 - 06/16/2001 06/17/2001 - 06/23/2001 06/24/2001 - 06/30/2001 07/01/2001 - 07/07/2001 07/08/2001 - 07/14/2001 07/15/2001 - 07/21/2001 07/22/2001 - 07/28/2001 07/29/2001 - 08/04/2001 08/05/2001 - 08/11/2001 08/12/2001 - 08/18/2001 08/19/2001 - 08/25/2001 08/26/2001 - 09/01/2001 09/02/2001 - 09/08/2001 09/09/2001 - 09/15/2001 09/16/2001 - 09/22/2001 09/23/2001 - 09/29/2001 09/30/2001 - 10/06/2001 10/14/2001 - 10/20/2001 10/21/2001 - 10/27/2001 10/28/2001 - 11/03/2001 11/04/2001 - 11/10/2001 11/11/2001 - 11/17/2001 11/18/2001 - 11/24/2001 11/25/2001 - 12/01/2001 12/02/2001 - 12/08/2001 12/09/2001 - 12/15/2001 12/16/2001 - 12/22/2001 |
Saturday, June 16, 2001I think I remember a little of my dream...I went to see a podiatrist and he told me my foot had been broken. He was laughing about the fact I'd been walking around on it like that for so long. I am having anxiety dreams about my appointment in July.
Rented some good movies last night..."Quill" which was about the latter years of the Marquis de Sade while he was imprisoned in a madhouse, and "The Eyes of Tammy Faye," which was documentary on Tammy Faye Bakker. After seeing both of them, I've decided I'd much rather spend time with the Marquis than Tammy. Not that she's a horrible person, in fact, in a strange way I gathered a little respect for her after seeing the film. But how I would be driven crazy by her voice and perpetual perkiness, not to mention the pain I would experience thinking about eyes encrusted in perpetual mascara like that. Ick. There was a film about Jim Bakker several years ago...I think Keven Spacey starred as the Rev-rund. I don't know...I think it would've been a perfect role for Tim Robbins.
Friday, June 15, 2001Hey, a dream addendum. In my "embarrased to be American" post below, I mention speaking to British Rock Stars. Well, it's not like I've spoken to dozens of them...just a handful...a small handful (and it was in my past too...long time ago). But I remember thinking in my dream last night with Ron Woods, "Yeah, I speak to British rock stars all the time!" Also, I might mention that Jerry was wearing a long sleeve dress shirt (the colorful one with the dingbat patterns)...it wasn't a t-shirt lest the reader get the wrong mental picture.
Amusing dreams with special guest stars Jerry Seinfeld and Ron Woods. In the first dream, I was talking with Jerry Seinfeld like we were old friends. I was confiding in him how Stan and I are avoiding someone from our past, and why we think that person has severe mental problems. Ironically, IRL, this mental person sort of reminds me of Jerry...like his expressions or manners or something, however in a much more psycho way (Jerry's not psycho). I remember Jerry was wearing a colorful shirt with a unique pattern that reminded me of some of the dingbat fonts I'm working on right now. In the other dream, I was seated at a large table with a bunch of other people, possibly celebrities or musicians. I was sitting on the long side of the table, and Ron Woods was sitting at one of the short sides, to my right. There was another person between us at the corner...I have no idea who it was. We were eating Chinese food, and it must have been Szechuan because Ron got this weird look on his face like it was really hot, then he left the table to drink mass amounts of water. When he came back he hugged the person to my right. Then I said something to him, but forgot what it was. Ron Woods is one of those old rock stars I hardly ever think of. Weird.
Thursday, June 14, 2001A snippet of my reoccurring dream last night...the one with the "Fort Collins that doesn't really exist." In this vignette, Stan and I were driving around the northwest side of Fort Collins amongst old houses and streets. Possibly something else involving the area up north and a motel. Unfortunately, I can't remember much else, but at least I'm still having this dream.
Wednesday, June 13, 2001Sometimes I'm embarrassed to be an American. Scratch that. I'm embarrassed to be an American. Today I spoke on the phone to someone in England. This is the first person I've spoken to with an English accent who hasn't been: 1) My late grandfather All the time I'm thinking I must sound like a nasal mumbling hillbilly, even though I 1) Speak very clearly and don't mumble and when I watch the news I'm embarrased even though I 1) Didn't vote nor support Bush The morning that McVeigh was executed and Bush was about to embark on his European visit, I was lying in bed in that midmorphic sensation between sleep and wake. I had this weird feeling, like I was trying to tell the rest of the (non-American) western world, "I'm sorry I'm an American, but I am not like them." When I was speaking to this person, I was trying really hard not to break into an English accent myself, as that would be totally embarrassing. I do that spontaneously, sometimes...think Mandy Slade from Velvet Goldmine. I don't know why I do it...it started out long ago as something to do because I liked the sound of it and because I *could.* Then it became sort of spontaneous, like I'll do it when I'm drunk and not thinking. In my conscious attempt to speak very Americanly and not to sound British, I became acutely aware of how American I was sounding. It was painful.
Now for the moment of truth. I guess I'm a good liar...no one guessed the falsie, in fact, it's the only one that didn't have at least one guess! Maybe it seemed too obvious of a "truth." To see the final votes, look here I have never camped in a tent I've been featured on radio shows several times I don't have a record, either criminal or traffic I have tried psychedellic mushrooms. I have never been under anaesthesia (heh heh) I have no idea what my SAT scores are I can't stand Brussel sprouts I've never ridden on a train (other than a novelty train) I never changed my own oil on my car I once slept on a city sidewalk at night
Tuesday, June 12, 2001What a night. We had some bad storms come through here last night. Severe Thunderstorm Warnings and Tornado Watches while we were watching the 10 o'clock news. Large gusts of wind blew through the front windows as I reclined on the loveseat working on my Tangerine. I turned the iBook off, and closed the windows. They weren't as bad as I thought, at least no water started coming through our roof as it usually does during these sorts of storms. They eventually quieted down enough for Stan to take the dogs out for the final pee mission at night, sometime after syndicated Seinfeld, sometime around Nightline. "You want to see something weird?" he asked as he was about to let Hieronymus out. What weirdness could there be, I thought. The Pacific Giant Delphiniums were probably blown down or something. I reluctantly went to the back of the house, fearing the damage to our flowers that were just about to bloom. Stan held the door open, Plato stared outside, being an incredibly good dog not to charge outside without a leash. A gigantic mass of branches and leaves lay on the ground right outside the back door. It took me a while to realize what it was. Our apple tree. "As Johnny Carson would say," Stan said, "That's some weird stuff." I was speechless. Stan had estimated our apple tree to be over 100 years old, probably belonging to the first farmhouse on our hill that our neighbors across the alley own before it was developed into a post-Victorian community about 90 years ago. In the last several years, it has become diseased with fungus. We've had to remove a limb a year, until the last couple years it has only had one limb clinging on to dear life. It put out a remarkable amount of apples this year, trying to quickly reproduce itself before it died. I guess it was a mercy killing, and I knew that eventually we would not have the apple tree anymore, but it's sad nonetheless. Each year as the major limbs of the tree have been amputated, our backyard has been getting sunnier and sunnier. Now since the windstorms happened, we will have to start moving the shade plants out front which is now the shadiest area. We used to have a huge hosta collection out back...now it'll be too sunny for many of them. The toad lilies will have to relocate too. In its place, we will probably get either a Redbud or a Harry Lauder's Walking Stick...something ornamental and fairly compact. Ironically, as were watching the news last night, they showed a picture of the UW's Corpse Flower, which finally collapsed today post-bloom. I somehow think that these events are cosmically related.
Monday, June 11, 2001I can't remember much of my dream except that Plato was in it, and there was someone else, an older woman, with a Boston Terrier too, but one younger than Plato. Plato was being his usual misbehaved self. He started started playing "mouth games" with the younger Boston; it was rather cute.
Sunday, June 10, 2001Can't remember the sequence of the events in my dream Saturday night, but I do remember the events themselves. One was I was in a large antique mall or department store with Stan and I had to use the bathroom, so I found a restroom that was quite nice. I remember someone trying to get in while I was in, and the door was unlocked, but they didn't enter. Then I was in the inhumanities building at the UW on one of the art dept. floors. Stan and I were sitting on a bench waiting for something. The Lone Gunmen were there, walking in and out of rooms. I was talking about wanting to teach a class called "d-efiance in Art," the "e" being like an e-mail "e" if that makes sense. Have been having a hard time remembering my dreams lately. I think it's because our bed is uncomfortable or something. We need a new one really badly...this one we've had since 1987.
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Copyright 1996-2001 Ann Stretton. All Rights Reserved. No part of this web log may be copied or reproduced, however text may be quoted if a link is given in return. Permission is not given under any circumstances to use any of the graphics or art on this site, however If you ask first, I may grant permission at my discretion. Please check the link above to my Ann-S-Thesia site for web graphics if that is what you need. |