Facebook

Facebook. You on it?

I really have come to like Facebook. It's quite addictive. Especially for me, since I prefer not to have to be in the company of people. It doesn't matter if I like you or not, 20 minutes around people is a long time for me. What if I slip up and pick my nose? What if I say the stupid things I'm so known for?
I once went to a wedding and accidentally asked the bride, "Where is everybody?" (Okay, I immediately caught how rotten that was about three minutes too late, and have remembered it for the past decade...) but that's not a uncommon thing for me. I'm just not good with real folk.
I like to live in pajama bottoms. I like to scratch occasionally.
I lack social finesse and confidence. That special something that people have that make them fabulous at gatherings. But Facebook has let me be a social creature where there once was just a geek who looked up plants.

Now I can be a geek who looks up people. Cool.

Turns out you can be a Fan of things, which is also cool. You can be a fan of an actor or you can be a fan of Macaroni & Cheese, it's that varied. I just waiting for Tap Water to come round, cause I happen to be a huge fan. I drink the stuff daily. Sometimes I even bathe in it :).
Tap Water, where is your Facebook page? Mmmm.
That's not very enthusiastic. Let me try again. Mmmm! Woo Hoo! It may be underrated, this Tap Water, but it's cleaner than most countries are drinking, and I don't have to tote it on my head. If you have to be grateful for one thing today, let it be this.

I was un-friended recently on Facebook. Or de-friended.

I painted this painting of a cucumber, naked, and one of my Facebook friends un-friended me. The painting is terrible, this I know. I guess I just didn't really think it was offensive? This same person cooked for Steven & I when we had our daughter. So nice!
So nice, yet I never returned their cookware. I don't believe I will be returning it now. (There you go, Me=rotten friend.) My faulty returning of items has karmically returned to me. I think back to Dr. Bell's book, cause he's the bomb. I'd better get it back to him.

My foxy man just came to get me for some quality TiVo/Lost time, so that's all for now!
warm wishes :)

i wish i was. more poetry?

i wish i was,
but i'm not.
i wish i was vague and elusive
writing with hidden meanings
only intellectual types
could interpret.
i wish i was

i wish i could
but i can't
i wish i could draw from the depth that lies within me
to create something beautiful
abstract
i wish i could

but i'm drawn from a shallow well
the water so clear
if you drop something into it
you need not even fish around to find
the thing you dropped.

when i wrote this
i searched for rhyming words
like simple and pimple
and people read my work
and said,
I could have wrote this.

Why didn't you? :)

This is the Day the Lord has Made by kat lee

this is the Day the Lord has made,
And everyday before and after,
And every thought,
Every religion too.

Yes, all of them,
Even the one's that suck the joy right out
of the existance of its followers.
Maybe those especially?

Or Maybe those were misinterpreted dreams
God gone through then changed in the sieve of its conduit.
Like clear water will become clear pee
Lest you throw a little asparagus in the mix
Then you get stinky pee.

God isn't the pee,
He's the Water.

Chinese Takeout

It's nice when little things can make you smile. Today I went to this little ragged chinese takeout place to get some steamed dumplings to go. The wife, she was yelling at her husband, and he proceeded to get a ladder, while she was pointing at the ceiling, all in chinese.
I watched from my chair, all the while thinking how happy it made me to hear this woman scream in chinese. Just the banter back and forth, the difference between their language and mine. I accidentally caught the angry womans eye while she was yelling, and she blushed- as though she though for a moment I could understand her. How fun to be able to yell obscenities at work with no one to understand you. I don't know what it means, but Broom-broom was one of the words she was yelling. What does 'broom broom' mean?
It made me think of the time my mother dated the chinese pharmacist, and how we'd visit him at the drugstore. Then, I thought about the story she told every time she'd had too much wine.
Once, after going out with the chinese pharmacist, she was at his home and went to use the restroom. When she came out, there he was, sprawled naked, waiting for her. In her drunken French accent, she describes the event, scrunching her thumb and index finger close to try to give a visual of his endowment.
I wonder if it were his poorly endowed manhood that turned my mother off, or the fact that he would be so bold as to do something like that. They would have had beautiful children, I think; and the French and chinese accents in one home would have been strange but good to hear.
Like asian red walls and white lace curtains. I hope my mother doesn't read this.
I won a few used sweaters for Naomi this week on Ebay. As strange as this sounds, sometimes I'll bid $6.16 on an item, because then, after I bid, it asks the next person to bid $6.66. This of course, means nothing to me, but since many pentecostals don't want to have to pay $6.66 for something, I get the item for $6.16. Funny.
I have to go~ much love, kat

Hmmm.

Hmmm. (Hmmm?)
There's the part of me that says,"There's no one in the world that hears me. I say what I wish!"
Then there's the part that says, "What if someone hears me?"
Although I believe I'm less worried about offending someone than boring them. I try not to be offensive, but boring is my human nature, especially when it comes time to blog.
What have I noticed this week? Steven was working late, so I got a chicken pot pie out of the freezer. I don't normally eat chicken pot pies, and so I read the instructions on the back.
MUST BE COOKED THOROUGHLY! It said. It showed a little picture with a meat thermometer sticking out of the center. Cook for "x" time, then check for internal temperature of "x". LOL.
I can't help but think its funny that a seventy cent pot pie would necessitate a meat thermometer, and show the little wee tiny pie with one in the photo. (I know! I wrote the same word in three different forms. You can get away with it in blogging :) ...)
What to do? I did not follow instructions. I took my chances with the pie. So far, so good.
What else is new? Naomi wants a Tether-ball. this is a ball on a string, on a concrete post. They makes little ones for cats, big ones for grown people. Who plays tether ball, you say? I guess soon we will be. The goal is to wind it all the way in your direction, so two people on opposite sides hit it the opposite direction. I don't mind playing unless Steven jumps in. Man becomes boy, and he plays tether ball to win. (ha!) It makes me laugh writing that...
But the ball comes around so fast that you have to step back or get your brains knocked out.
Soon it will be New Year's Day, which is my favorite holiday. I like to make resolutions, and we usually go on some sort of day trip with the kids. Most of the time, an IMAX movie, then a walk.
How can I be better in 2009? I write my goals, wants, needs.
Knowing the difference between a want and a need is always good.
I'm going to watch Wayne Dyer's Power of Intention again.
Being Thankful for the things that can get taken for granted.
This May will be my 13th anniversary! I'm grateful that I married someone so cool :).
My kids are amazing, my best little friends. They are becoming themselves.
My house is a work in progress! (It's a wreck! At the same time, we get to customize it for us...It doesn't need to be perfect. Sometimes the things you love most are the little character things, like a quarter in a concrete porch, or bird shaped knobs at the grandmothers house. You lose your grandmother, then the family comes. They don't want to know about financial gain. They want to unscrew the little knobs off the cabinets and each take home one. They want to have the little knob from the grandmothers kitchen, then, sometimes, they'll take off the brushed nickel matching knob off of one of their own cabinets, and stick the little bird there. Maybe on the cabinet they keep the vitamins, that the kids never use. People relate the vitamin cabinet to old folks, don't they? Even if you have one, it makes you think of older people who had one before you.)
That's what I'm working toward with the house. Not perfect, but full of heart.
Yikes! So really I came out here to blog with nothing so important to say.
Oh! I finished reading Ishmael! But I don't really want to give it back. I'm a BAD book borrower. Part of what I love so much about the book itself is that Steve Bell wrote all his little notes and highlighted it all, and Dr. Bell is (after my own Steven- Lee) the man we admire most in the world. Yup.
We adore & respect him. He's the father my husband strives to be like one day. He's the father not many have. Smart, introspective, funny. He's an old birkenstock wearing Jew-Bu-UU, and his latke's look like black burned sausage patties...but we just love him & his wife Linda too.
So having this book full of little up and down scrawls pleases me. I wonder if he'll notice my keeping it? Where is my integrity... Maybe I shall buy him a new one? Hmmm. I will definitely be thinking on it in my mind and get back with the results! Since he does not read my blog, I'm safe for now :)
Now I'm reading Song of Soloman by Toni Morrison.
Take care. if you've stumbled here by accident,

Welcome to the Kat Lee Reader.

Poetry by Kat Lee
Worst Fear

My worst fear
Would be to lose you.
Spoken of a lover,
The words evoke cheesy desperation.

For man is an island, And he boasts of that.
Cry under the floorboard, lowly broken hearted,
The populous deems a lover less necessary than pride.
Work and tolerance take you up the ladder
Clock out before you get home.
Man is an island.

Spoken of a child,
Frantic, the heart races at the idea of it…

You ate my late night milkshakes
Kicked me in my sleep.
My child…I didn’t carry you,
I grew you like a branch on a tree.
As though I’d detached then given birth to my own arm,
When you aren’t near me,
I wonder where my arm is.

Spoken of the Earth,
Scratch your nose and blink through the telltale lie.
My worst fear is not to lose you.

Man interprets what God says true,
The Earth is not your true home.
Enjoy riches as the coastline blackens,
Then He shall call you back.
Losing you is like saying goodbye
To the last of a breed of marmot you’ve never seen.
Fast fading.
Already gone?

Too bad a Day spent strolling on Earth
Isn’t more like Giving Birth to your own arm…

Round Circle Bubble Cloud

I was looking out the window, there was a cloud, it hung low and funny, like a cartoon version of itself. It hung higher than the pear tree, but lower than the pines behind it. It hung near like the blobs you see that they put the words into in drawings; but it wasn't saying anything. Maybe it was just too far to make it out.
Or maybe it was one of those blobs they put words into, so close to the pear tree. Maybe I just cannot read 'tree'. After a month long drought, maybe the tree says,
"hallelujah."

It's funny, so much of what we think, we don't say. Maybe we say ten percent, maybe its one. And then maybe 95% of what we do say is filler to avoid saying anything important. Maybe most of the stuff spoken is not connected to much thought at all, but mindless chatter to avoid letting people into what we think. That's probably a good thing.
When the old astro van pulled in front of me, my kids didn't hear me say,
"Raggedy Ass Van" or "Nasty fuckers". They might have heard, "Yikes..."
But I thought both of the two previous things, perhaps a wee bit more. (There's really a small margin between the sinister and the compassionate.)
You don't end up in too much trouble of you talk about the weather, or food, or gas mileage. Gardening.
Anything too far beyond that, I choose to just write it down. It's sort of a thought cleansing process that everyone should try. What's on your mind, how did you arrive at that, where does it take you. Because you can start out with one thing and end up somewhere you weren't planning to go.
Today I was running on the treadmill, playing Ray Charles, and I ended up crying and running, and running 20 minutes longer than I'd planned, just because the thought I'd started with took me somewhere else. And the thought was

I only say a tiny bit of what I think. What am I saying when I talk so much?

and that turned into

People make me nervous because I feel I have to earn their approval;
& that makes me exhausted trying to work so hard at it.

Thankfully, the mail truck honked the horn, delivering the roses I'd ordered for fall. I'm glad it's raining, hole digging will be easier. But after purging my mental state in my little blogs and emails, I feel better. The cloud out there- real; hovering 20 feet off the ground. Maybe the fog that was on my head when I was running. Who knows?
Here's to random chatter. May you never tire of mine :)
The girlies have a week off! I should go look up what fun things we could do.

Later! Kat