old-timey turkeys

What do you think?  I glued napkin-portions to the cardstock with painted-on white glue.  Did I tell you this story?  The dollar store had no Thanksgiving stickers.  So I went the napkin way.

I am minimally crafty, eh?  I wonder if thy napkins will just fall off?  We'll see.

Photo by Ming!

recipe testing

Yesterday my friend S came over and we ate the delicious sweet potato stew with rice.  We talked for a long time, in Freedom House.  You would never guess she's a lawyer.  She's the nicest lawyer in the world.

I'm trying to attach napkin-portions to these little homemade books.  The napkins are Thanksgiving-themed and depict old-timey puffed up turkeys with their tails fanned out.  I'm thinking white glue painted on with a paintbrush.

Tomorrow another friend is coming for lunch.  I'm testing recipes for my new vegan cookbook.  Tomorrow will be carrot curry soup with rice.

Join us in the hope that whatever's wrong with our minivan is under warranty.  Ming brought it to Bob's this morning.  It's the end of the month and we're out of money.

lunch making time

Yesterday I went to my theology class at the local UU church.  I shared this essay I wrote about the town where I was born.  I'm supposed to revise the essay for next week, but I think I'll just write a new one.

Then our friend D came over with her kid.  We talked and ate some almond cookies.  It was emotional.  We sat in the courtyard and enjoyed the peaceful coolness.

Soon I'm going to make some sweet potato stew.  Our friend S is coming over for lunch.  I'll make rice too.

First I need to peel the sweet potatoes and chop them up.  It's a really easy vegan recipe.

I have an almost ocd-like fear of my peanut butter going bad.  I'd like to keep it in the fridge, but our fridge is already crammed with stuff most people don't keep in their fridge.

Well, I better hop to it.

new friend party

Last night we went to a Halloween party.  It was at the house of this new friend I barely know.  I thought she was good friends with this other friend of ours, but I was wrong.

They have a huge house.  Her husband must have a great job.  I think it's so weird what gets valued.

There were a lot of kids running around.  There was a watermelon carved to resemble a brain.  There was pumpkin soup that was delicious, but then I realized I forgot to ask if it was made with meat broth.  There were chocolate chip cookies.  Nice punch called Dragon's Blood.

I met this lady whose husband got hit by a car a few days ago.  He almost died.  His brain got harmed and he broke lots of bones.  He was in ICU.  She talked about it for a long time.  I felt a lot of compassion for her yet kind of wanted to get up and leave.  You know me and medical stuff.

Then other people started telling their hit by a car stories.  Someone ran like a deer.  Someone had a seizure and got a ticket for jaywalking.  Ming led me away.

Indoors, music was playing.  There was a song that must be called "I'm a Gummie Bear."  Those were the words of the whole song, over and over.  It confused me.  Then I realized it was kids' music.

There was a pretty pale green and yellow ukulele on the floor.  I wanted to tune and play it, but my nails are very long, like talons.

Overall I did great at this party.  I got to meet my new friend's parents, which is always insightful, and see a broken slide rule.  I had never seen a slide rule before.

chocolate peanuts

This lady I don't know is having a crisis.  She was on facebook talking about wanting to die and her pain. 

Then she said she ate chocolate peanuts for breakfast and was so ashamed.  I started crying because there's so much pain in this world.  And people make it worse for themselves. 

Where did her shame come from?  What adult or tv commercial or whatever made this woman hate herself for a food choice while she is suffering to the point of death?  Someone told her she was fat, probably lots of people: doctors, strangers, the well-meaning.

It touched a nerve.  I wanted to tell her, "I'm not ashamed of you.  I don't care how many pounds you weigh.  You are valuable and worthy.  Its okay, whatever you manage to eat for breakfast."

But who am I--she doesn't know me.  Ming is seeing me cry and says I should tell her I'm moved and I care about her. 

But what good is my care.  She's there, I'm here, I'm overloaded, and I can't really do anything for her.  In a reply to her post she says something about going back to the grocery store for coffee and slimfast.

I escaped that, but this poor lady.

enough

This morning I wrote two letters, both in reply to mail that arrived yesterday. 

One was to a prisoner in Carson City.  He was given a bad fake knee and wants to sue for a new knee.  I can't find him a lawyer so far.

The other was to a friend I've known since 1999 or so.  She lives in LA and we have a good heart connection.

My tummy has hurt since last night which worries me a little because I didn't eat anything challenging.  Soyrizo, raw garlic, and raw onions are the usual suspects.  Sometimes pizza also.  Underripe bananas.

I want to go to a Halloween party tomorrow night but don't have a costume.  But my friend whose party it is, she's helping me.  Maybe leopard ears would be enough.  She has a Star Trek shirt for Ming.

Ming is out serving the hungry.  Can't decide whether to make breakfast or go back to bed.  I'm afraid of eating the wrong thing and making my stomach worse.
.
I'd kind of like some baby oatmeal.  But you know me.  I put weird toppings on my oatmeal.

agua

I was lying in bed, knocked out from an allergy pill, the other day.

"I feel like that cartoon character guy," I told Ming.

"Homer?  Dagwood?" 

"No," I said.  "That guy who's crawling through the desert saying, 'Agua!  Agua!'"

"I never saw that," said Ming.

"Oh, maybe just me and my brother saw it and we thought everyone saw it."

boycott everything

This morning at therapy, I talked so much.  I almost think I said too much.  It's like I was trying to win a talking competition.  And I won.

Then we went to Trader Joe's for ice cream, a tea place for boba, and Sprouts for a toothbrush.  They have this nice kind of toothbrush that doesn't make me gag.  About half the things at Sprouts were on sale and I was walking around looking at everything except the meat and alcohol.

That's how Ming got late to hospitality day lunch.  When he didn't show, they mixed the vegetarian food with the meat food.  How strange.

This morning I joined swap-bot and I'm not sure I belong.  There's a group for zinesters, but you can't join unless you have a certain rating, and I don't have a rating yet.

I kind of want to go to our storage unit and get all my postcards and dissolve my collection.

I kind of want to take a nap.

In the middle of the night, I woke up on the wrong side of the bed from a dream that defies language.

This morning at therapy, I told my therapist that Trump called himself a nationalist in the other day.  She hadn't heard.

I read Amazon is helping ICE?  God I hope that's not true.

When I told my friend I was boycotting Starbux, he said he agreed but wouldn't you kind of have to boycott everything?

bean wish

A new day, a new blog post to write.  Yesterday I was in a good mood and got so much done.

Today I want to go through some stationery.  And make white beans while Ming is hiking with friends.

There's a trend/fad--the InstaPot.  It includes a pressure cooker.  But I think beans are okay, taking a while. 

But there's a cookbook in my kitchen called Romancing the Bean.  It calls for a pressure cooker.  I've always been intrigued. 

So many books, so little time.  I wish I had two lives.  One just for reading.

new shirt

ikea adventure, jackhammering, pigeon work

Yesterday we survived ikea.  Went for 75 cent vegan hotdogs but got predictably sucked into looking around.  A shower curtain, a cute towel, four pink washcloths, a paring knife.  They had some very nice unlined hardbacked journals but too expensive at $6.

Verdict: the vegan hotdogs are great.  I like the mustard.  Would go back for the vegan hotdogs alone.

News around here is we have no water.  Since the middle of the night our water has been turned off.  And there's jackhammering and other work down the street.  So I wonder what happened.  I will go to costco with M for a big Catholic Worker shop in a little while.

M swept and mopped under my desk.  It was filthy with dust, crumbs, a dropped potato chip.  He is awesome.

I'm ready for Christmas cards.  I need to get ready for winter.  My mind turns to holiday travel.  I feel confused about money, family, and what life is for.

The sky is beginning to light and a mockingbird outside is saying good morning.  There's a new law in Las Vegas that you can't feed pigeons.  Warning then thousand dollar fine.  Can you believe that? 

I told Ming we should disguise the pigeons.  He said something about putting little moustaches on them.  My idea was more like spray painting them blue.  Look at the bluebirds.

what thin people say about fat people

Up in the night from fitful dreams.  Ming's eating popcorn.  I feel uncharmed by my usual things.

When I was in grad school, teaching, I had a student named Charmy.  She was great.

Yesterday at lunch when my friend was explaining me and Ming to his mom, he told her how Ming used to be a nurse and I used to be a teacher.  I don't know if that helped her get a handle on us.

Long long time ago when I was teaching at UC Irvine, I approached the local old folks' home offering to volunteer teach a low-key poetry class for the residents.  The person I asked told me she thought the old folks couldn't handle it, but we could try.

I chose poems I thought they'd like, printed them out in large font.  Robert Frost, Elizabeth Bishop.  I brought a small dictionary.  We read the poems out loud and talked about them. 

It was a great class, and I enjoyed teaching it but canceled a lot because I was doing too much and had untreated anxiety.

One day two ladies were in the class who didn't even know where they were, I don't think.  They were in the room by accident.  One said to the other, "Well goodness, how did she let herself get so fat?"

The other lady replied, "Yes, I don't know how people do that to themselves."

I was wearing this dark blue rayon dress I really liked, I remember, with flowers on it.  I wore the heck out of that dress.

When it was time for me to move away, the old folks home gave me a teeshirt advertising their place as a parting gift.  It was too small and didn't fit me.

That was such a weird time.  I taught lots of places: old folks' home, university, community college, reservation.  Private tutor for rich kids.  Chinese school.

I guess I really was a teacher.  Oh, and I graded papers for a high school teacher.  I think she exploited me.  I remember portfolios about To Kill a Mockingbird, which I never read.

Well, maybe my bad dreams are gone now and I should go back to bed.

side effects

I've been feeling weird and really tired since starting the new allergy med. 

This morning I served the hungry and gave a speech at the solidarity event.  Then we got vegan donuts.  Then we went to lunch with a friend and his mom. 

Then we came home and I napped, out like a light for hours.

I feel too weird and tired for radical mental health tonight.  But Ming says he'll do it.

People like my new shirt.  I'll try to get a picture.

I don't really care what anyone says about me on facebook.  I started writing a reply early this morning and then was like, I don't need to explain myself to anyone.

no idea

It's the two-year anniversary of my dad's death.  The calendar for today is blank.  I would like to give myself credit for good planning, but it just happened that way.  I plan to take it easy and write some letters.

Yesterday at urgentcare, didn't have to wait too long, got seen, didn't have a panic attack.  The doctor prescribed three things.  I started the generic zyrtec this morning.  We'll see.

Over in facebook world, I upset a friend with an article I posted that really spoke to me about reasons people have for not voting.  I disturbed her.  She says we have to have faith in the system in order for it to work.  I feel like it's not really my fault that my life journey has led me to a place where I no longer believe.

Then someone else commented the cliche "you can't complain unless you try to make a difference" but I would like to say, well, I do make a difference, every day.  With serving the hungry, running an interfaith peace org, running a radical mental health collective, peace vigiling once a week...I do a lot more than vote twice a year or whatever.

I feel misunderstood and like a weirdo, but I feel like that a lot, so whatever.

Ming made coffee.  I just wanted to stay in bed this morning.  But Ming was hungry and I wanted to make him breakfast, so I did.

I used to pray a lot for god to bless the spirit of my dad wherever he was.  I vaguely imagined him floating over a forest or on the moon or in the Grand Canyon or whatever, touring around.  Where's his spirit now?  Two years.  Maybe settled down somewhere?  Heaven?  I have no idea.

review of the Home Goods on Decatur

Last night we went to Home Goods, a store I had never been to before.  I heard positive things about it from Mom.

Found it kind of messy.  There was broken furniture in the front window where we walked in and I was like, "What's going on?" 

I looked at journals.  They could be found in a few different places in the store.  Most were $5.  Some were nice.

I looked at notecards.  They were almost all thank you cards and kind of boring.  There weren't a lot.

I looked at hand soap and bar soap.  Some of it seemed good but cost more than I wanted to pay.

I looked at some diluted essential oils and wanted them but again, too much money.

I looked at food.  It seemed kind of sketch, some of it.  I don't want food that's been sitting too long.

Ming ended up getting a green can opener for Freedom House which needed one.  We got this two-pack of reusable ziptop bags from the impulse buy area. 

And I got three journals.  One is fancy from Italy with a beautiful cover depicting cherry blossoms, and I paid $6 for it though it's thin.  One was marked down repeatedly to 70 cents and is a little banged up but ok.  The third I might give someone for a present?  It was marked down to $3 and seems nice.

Was telling Ming the other day I might have enough journals at this point to get me through to the end of my life.  I prefer my journals unlined, which kind of makes them sketchbooks.

Over all, it reminded me of Ross without the clothes and shoes.  It was organized weird, like tons of products crammed into a small space then across the aisle empty shelf.  But it was fun to look at different stuff.

Michigan

"This sounds so good!  Is this the extra-beautiful version?"

It's like a fairy broke into my computer an upgraded the speakers.

forever

I just want to stay home, write letters, cook delicious foods.  I used to like being out a lot.  We'd go to the library, the park, a cafe.  Just to be out.

I guess I turned into a hobbit.

We took our houseguest to the airport this morning.  I stubbed my toe on a stepstool.  My tongue keeps getting weirdly swollen painful taste buds.  Hurts.

I'm wearing the red warmness that used to be my mom's.  Feels like a hug.  I wish fall would last forever.

brake complaint

Doug says we need front and back rotors.  Something like $400.  How did that happen?  We got the brakes done just a few months ago, didn't we?

I have lots of open tabs on my browser, mostly recipes I want to try.  Waiting for an avocado to ripen.  Oh, we're out of tahini.

My friend smokes weed and it helps her distinguish when she is and isn't working.  I was telling Ming I could use something like that.  A relaxing ritual.

I want to make a list of all the foods I like to make because I get the feeling I forgot some.  Then it falls out of my repertoire.

clean beans

Tried putting me on Ming's etsy as a shop member but I thought it'd be easy and it's confusing.

Got some excess guacamole from a facebook friend last night.  I took one bite and could tell it was spoiled.  It was super acidic and sort of bubbly as if carbonated.  Wondered if I would get sick from the one bite, but I feel fine.

Months ago H said we should fix the chairs in the back house because they are so old and breaking.  Everyone ignored him.  But I'm thinking one day I'll sit down and my chair will fold and I might get hurt.  So we should see if someone can fix them.

Dreamt I was having pencil problems.  Finally Rev Rachel offered me the use of her electric pencil sharpener.  I was happy.  I sharpened some pencils.  "Oh, that one will be double-sided," I said when I realized I was sharpening the wrong end.

My black-eyed peas were so clean, not a twig or stone or any dust or dirt.  "Where did you get them?" Ming asked. 

"Winco bulk bins," I said.  "They were cheap.  Well, not super cheap.  Well, maybe.  Considering how many meals you get out of them." 

I think they were a dollar twenty a pound.  Lentils are less, like 89 cents!

I was too lazy to chop an onion or garlic.  Just put salt, garlic powder, and cayenne.  Very good!  They were boiling just before 8 yesterday morning and done by around 11.  Didn't soak them overnight.

garden fantasies

Fall is here.  Cold wind.  I'm making black-eyed peas, a great pleasure. 

Ming is out with a friend all day, dealing with court stuff in Nye County, and it's quiet except for the windchimes and distant traffic.  The hum of the fridge.

The suicidal friend is still alive, this morning.  The radical mental health collective lives on too, for now.  Yesterday R's sister got married.  Life happens.

At D's baby shower, we wrote a lovenote on a piece of wood.  Feels good to want things: fresh salsa, friendship, help organizing my zine collection.  Garden fantasies.  I like figuring out what to do with surplus.

pumpkin day

bad booksale

The booksale was really bad.  The selection was terrible.  Hardback bestsellers from 20 years ago, guilt trippy cookbooks, beat up children's books...  I looked at a depression memoir but read some pages from the middle and it was trying to be funny and failing.

We have the front door open to let cool air in.  Today is the baby shower, radical mental health, and a late night airport pickup.

Last night we ate the perfect avocado.

too much

Last night Ming went to a coffeehouse concert our friend sang at.   I went to a different coffeehouse a mile away and wrote letters, ate a cookie.

Three people walked in dressed in medieval costume.  The ren faire was going on across the street.  I liked the lady's wooden staff.

Someone who is a brother to me just told me he and his girlfriend broke up.  I really liked her, so I'm sad.  I wanted her around.  He said he was too much for her.  He still has a lot of her stuff.

"Do you want to ship it to her?" I asked.  She's part Japanese-American and left special teas and seaweed condiments in the Freedom House kitchen.

There's a booksale at a library.  I don't need books but want to go just to see.

I would like to write her (the ex) a beautiful letter.  A love letter.  But that's the thing.  I think I'm too much for her too.

an idea

I feel like things are good.  Things are on track.  My projects, I mean. 

Nevada Desert Experience is going okay, and the Las Vegas Catholic Worker too.  The Las Vegas Radical Mental Health Collective has a meeting on Sunday evening, and I know some people who are coming.

Our political prisoner letter writing group seems defunct, but maybe we'll start up again.

I was thinking of getting a job.  I was thinking of seeing how much I could work and keep my SSI and health insurance.  I could pay off the credit card debt.

Also was thinking of going back to school to become an ESL teacher.  I don't know if I'd need another Master's Degree or what. 

No, I don't really want to go back to school.  It was just an idea.

out of spoons

I don't wanna see anybody.  I don't wanna go to our weekly peace vigil.  I think it would be my third in a row missed.  I can't handle talking, listening, eye contact, being appropriate, being perceived.  I feel done giving.

Ming is bringing some leftover event fruit to the Catholic Worker.  Hopefully somebody will eat it.

bird

I like early morning.  I feel like the world is fresh and things are possible.  Especially now that morning is cool.

A bird is chirping.

Well, the guests have left or are leaving soon.  I see how much I love my life because I see how much I want it back.

Ming took someone to the airport, dropped off some baby clothes for D, and is now serving the hungry.  We will drop someone else off at the airport, and I have therapy at 10.

done

Survived the board meeting.

how the workshop went

I need to make the salad, and sandwiches on little dinner rolls, but Ming has the dishwasher going.  But it won't take long.  And wash the apples.

My workshop, I thought I was giving it to five or ten self-selected participants, not the whole room of 30 people.  I felt so vulnerable and couldn't do all I'd planned.

Some things were left behind: Soteria book, signup clipboard, about eight zines.  I thought Ming would get them, when they were cleaning up.

Some people wouldn't make eye contact, and if I was speaking about something difficult or embarrassing to them.  Mental illness has so much baggage. 

Today my friend will be here at 9.  We'll pack his car and go to the goddess temple to serve brunch to peace vigilers.  I'm skipping the vigils.

sculpture

new Laura-Marie

I'm boiling macaroni for pasta salad and potatoes for potato salad for tomorrow's brunch.  I haven't encountered any out of towners yet--been hiding out.  Our front door is closed.  Last night I slept a lot.  Needed that.

Today will take all my resources.  I'll cook all morning and have community breakfast.  Go to the UU church for theology class.  Then give my workshop at Justice for our Desert.  Hopefully at night I can hide out again.

Definitely feels like fall now.  When the seasons change, I change.  Well, that must happen to everyone.

drama

Drama at the Worker.  Friction of community.  It's frustrating.  Luckily I'm not involved, this time, but I do have opinions.

I'm making some pasta for breakfast.  Ming is shopping.

Yesterday I read my theology text.  It was kind of difficult.  I liked it.  Thought-provoking.

Tomorrow and Monday is Justice for our Desert.  Ten people are coming from out of town.  I'm giving a radical mental health workshop.  I'm cooking brunch for 30 people for Monday.

Then Tuesday we have a board meeting all day.

So I can relax Wednesday.

angry

I just wanna stay home and be in my safe little cave, writing and taking care of myself.  I resent having to do anything social.  But I also resent how messy the house is. 

It's cooling down.  Yesterday we made new Las Vegas Radical Mental Health Collective fliers with the website urls on them.  They were thirty bucks for 100.

I want to get vegan chicken wings at this place in Summerlin called Wing King.  I've never had them.

I feel so angry I'm afraid of hurting the people I love.  Not physically but lashing out.  I need an attitude adjustment.

what I'm angry about--an incomplete list

1.  the house is too messy
2.  a bunch of people are coming to stay with us
3.  I'm still coughing
4.  the world is not set up for me

home

Yesterday I made a mistake and was over-social with two out of town visitors and some other friends.  I paid for it in the night with fitful dreams and crazy feelings, overwhelm.  I was up and down all night.

Today I'm not fully recovered, so I stayed home from the weekly peace vigil.  Planned my radical mental health workshop for Justice for our Desert and made a handout.  Drinking water and trying to take it easy.

I just wanna go back to bed.  But I need to go to the printers with Ming when he gets home.  There's a prayer thing this evening at the Worker.  It's the feast day of St Francis of Assisi they say.

plans

soyrizo potatoes, Pagan Pride 2018, mermaid

Gmorning.  Yesterday I burned part of the soyrizo when I made soyrizo potatoes, but it tasted great that way!

This was Pagan Pride 2018, hours before the heat exhaustion.

I saw a mermaid near the bee tree.  I said, "Are you a mermaid?"

"Yes," she said.

"How does it feel to be a mermaid?" I asked.

"Wet," she said.  "Splashy.  And I have these bubbles for the kids."

I smiled at her.  "Do you wanna take a picture?" she asked.

"You mean like a selfie?" I asked.

"Yeah!" she said.

"I haven't taken many selfies in my life," I said.

"Well, there's a first time for everything," she said.

Seemed intimate, to get close to take the selfie with a mermaid I'd barely met.  Later I saw her being wheeled around in a wheelchair.  She had a golden tail instead of legs.

red

Got up early for no good reason.  Ming's not hiking today because it's supposed to storm, first rain after summer.  It's a rest day before I get busy and stressed with Justice for our Desert.  Sore from yesterday's yoga.  Got paid, going to buy allergy medicine.

Yesterday Ming went to the pharmacy and I asked him to pick me up some sweet potatoes while he was at the store.  They were out of sweet potatoes!  Also I txted asking for an avocado.  He said the avocados looked weird, that they were red.

shooting anniversary post

Well, the day is here--it's the anniversary of the Las Vegas shooting.  I'm carrying around some pain about it. 

There's this phrase and hashtag "VegasStrong" that I don't understand.  It's supposed to comfort people, like remind us we are united in grief and we'll get through it?  It's never comforted me.  Always made me queasy.  I never felt included. 

Also, there's an organization called Vegas Strong that gathered donated money for victims, and there was a scandal, and I don't know if it was ever resolved.  Nobody really talks about the money.  Seems like a lot of people don't even know about this.

People wearing VegasStrong teeshirts, stickers on cars, signs on businesses.  Billboards for VegasStrong.  I don't relate.  It reminds me of the new Las Vegas sports team, the Golden Knights.  Something like patriotism.  A sense of belonging I don't feel.

So something really happened.  I was not involved.  Then there's all the reactions and feelings and consequences.

The cops--well, all the "first responders"--that's a scandal too.  I heard a cop was outside the shooter's hotel room door for a long time, not busting in to stop him.  I heard it was not handled well, to say the least.

But they are supposed to be heros.  Local businesses give them discounts on smoothies, a free cup of coffee.  The emergency room workers--it must have been a nightmare, but that is their job.  They get paid more money than I'll ever see to do something I never could do.  They get to buy a house, something I'll never experience.  Society has decided I deserve to live on $770 a month, for my disability.  And $15 food stamps.

I don't know the solution to shootings.  I wish I did.  Today there are different vigils and rituals you can go to to express grief or find comfort with others who feel the way you do.  Candlelit vigil, something at a church, something at a spiritual center.  My feelings don't seem neat or appropriate.

I believe in love.  I run the Las Vegas Radical Mental Health Collective.  I doubt I could have loved the shooter well again.  He was probably really fucked up for a long time?  He was probably of a demographic of people I don't talk to much, old white men?  I know I don't believe in psychiatry and we need something new that works, something based on mutual aid and community and support.

I wish the shooting never happened.  Las Vegas is pretty fucked up.  Well, it's like any other place but our vices are more prominent and advertised.  Never thought I'd live in Adult Disneyland.  There's a lot of work to do here.  I don't know how long we'll stay, but it's been three and a half years so far.

I'm hurting, on this anniversary, and I'm sorry if you are too.  I don't know if I said what I really wanted to say.  It was bloody--58 people died and 851 injured.  I used to be agoraphobic, long time ago.  Some people are afraid to send their kids to school.  I'm not having kids for lots of reasons.