A Flagrant Flaunting?

I was just typing one of my entries and had one of those moments when you remember something you were supposed to do and it zaps you like an electric shock, a small slice of panic. One of my students was talking about just this kind of moment the other day. For me, it doesn't have to be a real thing. Often, with all the details I am bound to keep track of, I'll have one of those zaps over something I just think I didn't do but I really did do. Or sometimes I just confuse myself and think I was supposed to do something and didn't, but it really wasn't ever true. It was just me scaring myself. I'll do this when a student asks a question. They're confused, and I mix up my classes and think I made a mistake, didn't open an assignment or a discussion or the like. But today when I was typing my entry I realized with a start I had forgotten about my funny little word count rule. Up until this last batch of entries I buzzed through to get myself current again, to not let this project wither away, I made each of the entries about a new thing carry a word count that's a multiple of 52. I liked the idea and had stuck with it, been religious about it, revising and editing to come out with the exact number of words: 364, 572, 1144. But in this recent flurry I never even thought of it. Hence, the panic, the sizzle of shock running through me. It wasn't as though I had consciously decided it was okay to break my rule. I hadn't. I had just not remembered the rule, not once until today. It's like my dreams where I smoke cigarettes and have this clear idea of how many I am "allowed" to smoke each day. I've got it all worked out, only it's never true. I don't get to smoke any cigarettes. This time my rules went out the window without my knowing. So be it. I imagine it's just as well. I bet I never would have brought myself current if I'd had to work that hard on that last batch. I must have known that, so I hid the rules from myself that day. I knew I would never flaunt the rules if I knew, so I didn't let myself know. I wonder how many words this is? Oops--four words shy.

Luscious Lorraine's (22)

The woman behind the counter had short grey hair that fit snug on her head. She was grounded and capable and kind, welcoming, warm. She was patient with all my questions and my eager first-time-here-ness. I ordered the tempeh salad and was surprised to find it crumbled in a pile above the bed of greens. Or perhaps it wasn't crumbled, had never been a firm shape of any sort, a tempeh new to me. I took it to go, enjoyed it at home before I went back to work. It was fresh and lovely, the ginger miso dressing divine. I was surprised and pleased to find how full it made me, more so than my own big salads I always worry are too big. Maybe they aren't too big? I am wondering now, after indulging in the one from Luscious Lorraine's, since the bulk of my salads are greens. Maybe it's okay to eat my big bowl of salad every afternoon. Maybe it's one thing I can stop feeling bad about. Maybe I'll start now.

The Laptop Reading (21)

I'd forgotten this new thing, forgotten to "count" it here. I went to Crystal Fantasies for a reading. I can't remember the name of the "cards"---discovery cards? No, that wasn't it. It's not coming back to me, but there was one thing the reader told me that stuck. She said the year 52 was supposed to be a big deal. There was a something about how if people don't "get" something or put something in place by this year then they usually don't. I didn't know what something that might be for me. My writing? My home? My finances? My mate? Gads. But this claim was part of a series of things that has me committing to finishing the two books I've had going for eons. I haven't figured out the details yet, but I am going to finish them. I will finish one of them within the year. Hmm. Not before I'm 53, though. Oops. Oh, and the title of this entry? The "cards" were on her laptop. It made me miss my old worn deck of Tarot cards with all their vivid colors and their soft scuffed edges. I am thinking of making a set of runes out of mango pits.

All Caught Up, But . . .

I'm all caught up again now after this little flurry I have cranked out today, determined to not abandon my blog even though I can feel the lethargy of just that calling me, luring me, sucking me into giving up. I still don't feel satisfied with the "reporting" aspect of this task. I have told myself I don't need to report each new thing, told myself I can bring in memory or musings or anything I like. This time I even told myself I could just write one sentence for each entry, and as I write this I wonder if one sentence would have been a better choice, instead of succumbing once again to recording the event. Would those one-liners have had more life in them than the paragraphs I ended up writing?

I don't know if it is my critic hounding me, making me unhappy with what I am doing here, or if it is my own framework, my expectations and restrictions I come with to the blog. I don't want to abandon the project. But I don't want it to be like pulling teeth. I don't want to be dissatisfied with my entries. I don't want to be playing catch-up, just writing something to be able to call it done.

So, maybe I need to broaden my scope a bit, let the definition of my new things be a little looser, give myself more latitude, allow for things to arise. I want to feel life on this page. I want to feel vivid when my fingers hit the keys. I want to find a way back into my blog, one that winds its way through me, heart body soul, calls me, rocks me, cradles and delights me. I want my words to sing. I send up prayers, like paper airplanes, and give my thanks (in advance).

A New Return (20)

I swam laps for the first time in I don't know how long, "real" laps doing the crawl with my goggles and earplugs, the first since I've lived in the desert, the first time at Marylou and Richard's pool. We'd had a string of unexpected cool nights, so I thought the pool may have cooled down, too, and it had. I swam near noon, and became almost dizzy from the brightness of the sun and the madly moving reflections on the bottom of the pool. So then I treaded water in the shade of a palm tree. I faced our impressive mountains in the west. I felt fresh and virtuous and happy to be moving my body, to be exercising even in the middle of a summer day in the desert. I watched big, smart wasps touch down on the surface of the pool to drink and then take off again, like wispy agile sea planes. I felt glad and lucky to be in the water, enjoyed the luxury of having the small, pretty pool to myself. I put my clothes back on and walked home, my wet bathing suit keeping me cool. I can't wait to do it again.

Camelot (19)

This time I went to "my" theater for the first time, the Camelot. It's the nearest, and "my" farmer's market sits beside it when it's not summer. I'd hoped for canola oil popcorn from this particular theater and fun condiments for it like brewer's yeast or garlic powder, spoiled as I am by northern California ways. No dice, but the woman who served me smiled a real smile and offered genuine kindness. I'd hoped to love the movie, but I didn't. I wondered later if it was because the audience around me seemed to enjoy it so much, laughing hard and often when I didn't think it was funny. Did that distance me from the film? Would I have liked it better if I'd seen it by myself? I enjoyed watching Annette Bening, though, studying her marvelous, expressive face, her focused intensity. And I was happy to see a mainstream movie featuring two lesbians as an "old married couple." Too bad they had to make her affair still be with a man. ;-)

Jani and Roti (18)

Three happy cell phone calls when my plane landed, headed for luggage, found my bag right away. The perfect bench on a path along the bay. Fresh watermelon juice and toasted walnuts and strawberry-mango puree, made and packed with love. The perfect clean and handy restroom to use in a business building nearby, lots of glass, but no way to know if there were really people inside. Endless hours walking the trails along the bay, along the canals, water and sunshine everywhere. Talking without stopping, loving being in the same place for a change, not talking on the phone, holding hands, laughing, me having to pee again. Happy. Once we heard a song sparrow.

Later, eating the most amazing Indian food of my life at Roti, the combination of spices making me salivate weeks later as I remember. The addictive Indian pickle thing, and drinking tons of water later in reaction to the salt of it. More walking, nearer to Vivie's now, knowing our day was almost over. The birds a wonder, protected in the spot by the wastewater treatment plant. Fields of birds whose names I forget now, in numbers unlooked for on the peninsula, row upon row of them sitting on little sandbar-like mounds in the water, then swooping into the air in a solid expanse of warm wings and feathers. A surprise to become so ungrounded at the end, trying to transition but not wanting to say goodbye to Jani, to our day. So full, warm, welcoming. So rich.

Cinemas Palme d'Or (17)

I parked in the perfect spot in the parking lot, one I'd discovered on my first foray to this shopping center when I went to exchange my Christmas underwear in June. There are three big trees at the edge of the lot, and there is full shade there for hours, a rare luxury in this desert world. I'd felt weird that first time walking through the mall and realized it had been the first time I'd been in a mall in over two years. The last time had been in Cabo San Lucas where I'd end up buying cigarettes when I was trying to quit and got to splurge crazily to undulging in fresh Häagen-Dazs at their store. The mall there was oddly more luxurious than this one in Palm Desert. On this second visit I was late for my movie, so I ran through the mall, dodging shoppers, looking for the theater. I actually had to ask twice for directions. It turns out you can't get to the movie theater from inside the mall. Who would have thought? I ate popcorn and watched Michael Douglas do what he does so well. The movie was sad and weighty, I thought, but it had just enough optimism at the end to avoid bleak. I marveled again over the shade when I returned to my car. It made all the difference in the world.

My Oh Me My

I'm not sure quite what happened, but I seem to have lost my oomph here. I did several new things over the past month but never took the time to write them up. I've even lost track of what week I am in. I am wondering if the fact I was ahead of myself was the cause. I had always hoped to get a few extra posts up so I wouldn't have the pressure of meeting the goal each week. But maybe the fact I was three or four posts "ahead" is what had me disengaging since I didn't "have" to post more for awhile? I'm not sure, but that sounds like a likely culprit. And maybe I can blame it, too, on the heat. ;-)

I plan to write up my more recent new things in very short snippets sometime soon. Maybe I will even turn them into haikus. (Very, very short, indeed!) I just thought I would take a moment to let you know---Marylou and Richard!! :)  ---I have not abandoned my goal or my blog. And while I'm at it, I will pray to become reignited about this plan, to begin contemplating new things to do again in earnest and in eagerness. I still have eight months to go, so it would be a shame to not find joy in this again. I will look for it and be back soon.