eccentrictulip

Favorite thing #527.

Just saying.

Hi, November. 

How are you? 

Love, Carolyn.

Today everything is warm -- gray and rust with flecks of over-ripe gold and crimson teasing the skyline here and there. 

The wind seems like its lonely, but working towards something. 

Happy Halloween. 

My Stupid Day, parts 1-4
by: Carolyn Angela Jepsen

1) Wake up with ridiculously sore throat.  Go to Urgent Care, see patronizing doctor who finally caves and gives me medicine. 

2) Car starts steaming under the hood on way home from doctor, then gives out completely, leaving its front half in the church driveway and its butt in the road.  Enjoy many odd stares from elderly people in black cadillacs and buicks while waiting for AAA. 

3) On walk home from mechanic, I meet a jubilant black lab and discover a beaten-down, head's up penny on the ground from 1996. 

4) Also on walk home, discover remnants of dead pigeon on the sidewalk, many feathers and half of a wing.  This makes me sad because I love pigeons. 

Coming soon, part 5: NAP TIME. 

Dear Worcester,

V-Day needs a home again.  Help me out? 

Love, Carolyn

Good morning, Monday. 

I have the sniffles.  And the post nasal drip(ples).  Short week with impossibly long ending.  Boston-DC-Boston, followed by another short week and NYC-Worcester-Cape. 

Woohoo?

Cheers,
Carolyn.

To Do: 

*Call out of work (check)

*Tissues and cough medicine (half check)

*Get self to DC in Oct.

*Get self to NYC (perhaps this can be combined with the above trip?)

*Sew blanket.  It's getting cold outside.

*Cough up crap in throat

*SLEEP. 


& also, this is clearly the best vehicle IN THE WORLD and I must own it one day.

Maybe I will go to Burning Man someday....hmm.

Too much to say and nothing at all to say as a direct result.  (Think about it for a minute, it will make sense.)  Writing these days is filled with one inch picture frames and thoughts of Anne Lamott and this one corner of the yellow house where I swear God/god/god(s)/Goddess/goddess(es?) live(s).

I was more content last night than I have been in months thanks in part to my favorite busker, twilight in Cambridge, letter writing and one of my very favorite humans on the entire planet who I had not seen in....2 years?  Give or take?  Far too long, bluntly put.  I don't intend on letting that much time slide by again.

The view from my corner of the street, Passim's Campfire Festival: 

Second day of school.  (I tried really hard not to go back.) 

I smell like hand sanitizer.

Just (accidentally) commited myself to the Big Yellow House in January, which is how I usually end up there. 

Maybe I can switch to November....

This week was full of Boston.

-Davis Square for Bob (www.whatgoesup-themovie.com) on Wednesday night and a reunion with my beautiful ladies....pavement attacked the car, there was a giant cow on the road, we did not go to Buzzard's Bay. Good night. late night. Skipped the morning's work on Friday.

-Cambridge Commons on Saturday. The sky was pretty.* Made friends with a man in Harvard Square who was wearing a bowtie, suit coat and slacks. Bald head, white hair, brief case, inquiring about what was on my back.** Walked with him through Harvard Square before parting ways at bank of america where he wished me luck.

Gaiam yoga mat strap = built for awesome.  Awesome and hula hoops. 

-Cambridge on Sunday and sleeping in.  Missed being professionally developed for work, exchanged it for wanderings, Becky and Amanda Palmer's rent party.  Good night. 



**This was on my back: 



My bald, bow tied, brief cased man called me a hula hoopstress.  I like that. 

*See?  Pretty: 

Every few years I forget why I never bothered much with Ayn Rand.

And then I try to read one of her books.

And then I REMEMBER.







Also!! Worcester is not dead.

Good things started yesterday morning with "Ziggy Stardust" on the radio and continued through the night with a dream that was so great I kept trying to go back to sleep for 20 minutes after the alarm started buzzing. (I was out moose catching and knew that I was close when I saw one's shadow pass by. I think I was in New Hampshire, though it may well have been Canadia. Coffee was plentiful, so was this really good bread and there was an abundance of stringed instruments, including one cello quartet.)

Bob's movie was reviewed on some tv show yesterday. They didn't like it based on the fact that they had no idea what the film was actually supposed to be about. This seems typical of these two particular reviewers whose DVD pick of the week was "He's Just Not That Into You."

I really think I am going to go to this: www.wanderlustfestival.com Airfare is (suprisingly) cheap right now. Yoga, Lake Tahoe, Amanda Palmer, Jenny Lewis and Michael Franti. Those are the makings of a good week right there.

REALLY????????

Fucking Bullshit.

More constructive thoughts to follow. Until then:





PS. The world needs to channel Harvey Milk.

PPS. This, too:

Just because it's her birthday....please watch.




And then watch just one more because I think it's pretty....