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| Innocent summer day, monster lurking under the surface. |
Take heed, Missoula.
Sunday, August 12, 2012
79. Further evidence of giant fish
Perhaps my last entry did not scare you as much as it should have. I was lucky to snap the following photo a few days after the previous photo was taken.
This photo has not been altered in any way, except that I added a life-sized figure of a human person for size reference. As you can see, the giant fish is half the size of a person - for those of you who are bad at math, this means the fish is 2.5 to 3 feet long.
Take heed, Missoula.
Take heed, Missoula.
Friday, July 27, 2012
78. FISH
As if anyone needed another reason to stay the heck out of the river! Look!
(Photo has been altered - you couldn't actually see the fish in the picture so I had to draw it in.)
There's a huge fish in the river! It's at least two and a half feet long! That's not an exaggeration - TWO AND A HALF FEET LONG. I've seen it twice! It just sits there on the bottom of the river by the California Street bridge all day long waiting for people or bodies to float by!
Yeah, I know. I'm not stepping a toe in that water (until it's made its way to Idaho and becomes a large lake - then it's fine and all the fish and bodies have been filtered out by the dams).
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| Summer storm. Fishmonster in foreground. |
There's a huge fish in the river! It's at least two and a half feet long! That's not an exaggeration - TWO AND A HALF FEET LONG. I've seen it twice! It just sits there on the bottom of the river by the California Street bridge all day long waiting for people or bodies to float by!
Yeah, I know. I'm not stepping a toe in that water (until it's made its way to Idaho and becomes a large lake - then it's fine and all the fish and bodies have been filtered out by the dams).
Tuesday, June 19, 2012
77. bird, injured
Here's the latest avian news from Missoula:
The other day I walked out my door and there was a robin standing right by my stoop looking up at me. Scared the crap out of me - psycho menacing bird - but he hadn't moved an inch and I realized he was injured. I sat down on the steps and he just looked at me. I told him I couldn't help him but didn't want to hurt him, and then I got sad - adults, stupid, always finding metaphors in things. Blame all those German literature classes I took in college. I can't help an injured bird, I can't help an alcoholic.
An hour or two later the robin was on the other side of the yard, right wing slightly askew, hopping on one foot, eating things from the lawn - a good sign, right? I couldn't help him but I put out a little bowl of water. I don't know what injured robins or alcoholics need but I put out a bowl of water because it was a hot day and I don't know, robins need water like everyone else.
That night I dreamed of feathers on the ground, the scene of a cat-bird encounter, but in real life there's no feathery scene of death in the yard, and there's also no bird, alive or dead. I haven't decided yet what kind of stupid metaphorical reading I'll make up for that.
Tomorrow will be three seconds longer than today. The solstice occurs tomorrow at 5:09 p.m. and then we'll begin the long terrible descent back into winter. I am sorry to have to tell you that but as Missoula's foremost astronomical blogger it is my duty.
The other day I walked out my door and there was a robin standing right by my stoop looking up at me. Scared the crap out of me - psycho menacing bird - but he hadn't moved an inch and I realized he was injured. I sat down on the steps and he just looked at me. I told him I couldn't help him but didn't want to hurt him, and then I got sad - adults, stupid, always finding metaphors in things. Blame all those German literature classes I took in college. I can't help an injured bird, I can't help an alcoholic.
An hour or two later the robin was on the other side of the yard, right wing slightly askew, hopping on one foot, eating things from the lawn - a good sign, right? I couldn't help him but I put out a little bowl of water. I don't know what injured robins or alcoholics need but I put out a bowl of water because it was a hot day and I don't know, robins need water like everyone else.
That night I dreamed of feathers on the ground, the scene of a cat-bird encounter, but in real life there's no feathery scene of death in the yard, and there's also no bird, alive or dead. I haven't decided yet what kind of stupid metaphorical reading I'll make up for that.
Tomorrow will be three seconds longer than today. The solstice occurs tomorrow at 5:09 p.m. and then we'll begin the long terrible descent back into winter. I am sorry to have to tell you that but as Missoula's foremost astronomical blogger it is my duty.
Sunday, June 10, 2012
76. Handcrafted Ail-et-huile-d'olive Pizza
Guys, guess what! I've become a "foodie". A "foodie" is someone who eats food and then makes blog posts about it. The thing that turned me into a foodie was a picture of gnocchi someone had in Little Italy last week. Yum!
For my first foodie post, here's a picture of the best pizza I've ever eaten in my life, right before I ate it.
Please note the unique artisanal shape of the pie, which conforms nicely with my artisanally shaped pizza stone, which has had a hard life (as all good artists have).
I paired the pizza with eau glacée.
For my first foodie post, here's a picture of the best pizza I've ever eaten in my life, right before I ate it.
Please note the unique artisanal shape of the pie, which conforms nicely with my artisanally shaped pizza stone, which has had a hard life (as all good artists have).
I paired the pizza with eau glacée.
Saturday, June 2, 2012
Tuesday, May 29, 2012
74. and...
Tuesday, March 15, 2005 - Last night I had a vague dream that I was at my high school reunion in a parking lot and a car drove by and said my name and it turns out it was Justin Timberlake. He graduated with me and he's been in love with me all these years. Everyone knew except me. I was surprised and mildly flattered. Also, something about a church.
Tuesday, May 22, 2012
73. vintage radio nightmare
Wednesday, April 11, 2007 - Last night I had a two-part nightmare about my show: first, I went to the studio and there was a big note for me taped up to the monitor that suggested I: write a letter to the FCC, apologize to the listeners, and write "every paper possible" about the implications of broadcasting profanities over the airwaves. Then the dream turned into me trying to figure out what time it was. Every clock said something different and I couldn't tell if I was late for my show, if I'd missed it, or if I still had an hour. I was at home. Finally I decided to call the radio station to ask the DJ. Then the godforsaken dream ended.
Monday, May 21, 2012
72. dreams of yore
New direction for this blog: old dream diary!
Friday, March 14, 2008 - I dreamed that I had a strange and scary stalker. He called during my radio show and knew my name and my street address. Then I was at my house, except it was a house that's a few blocks away from my house, and he was there. I don't remember what happened, but it was very scary. It was so scary I woke up and saw that it was 3 a.m. Then I went back to sleep and continued the dream -- at my next radio show I decided to change my DJ name so he wouldn't know it was me. Oh yeah, and at the beginning of the dream they -- whoever 'they' were -- were talking about how they'd been listening to my radio show and that it was terrible. "Just the parts when I talked?" I asked them, because I know I sound like a helpless baby frog when I talk, but I don't have any problems with the mechanics of being a DJ -- running the board and things -- so when I'm not talking I like to think that my radio shows are fine. No, everything, they said. The entire show was terrible. "Well, not terrible, just bad, right?" I said. No, terrible, they said.
Friday, March 14, 2008 - I dreamed that I had a strange and scary stalker. He called during my radio show and knew my name and my street address. Then I was at my house, except it was a house that's a few blocks away from my house, and he was there. I don't remember what happened, but it was very scary. It was so scary I woke up and saw that it was 3 a.m. Then I went back to sleep and continued the dream -- at my next radio show I decided to change my DJ name so he wouldn't know it was me. Oh yeah, and at the beginning of the dream they -- whoever 'they' were -- were talking about how they'd been listening to my radio show and that it was terrible. "Just the parts when I talked?" I asked them, because I know I sound like a helpless baby frog when I talk, but I don't have any problems with the mechanics of being a DJ -- running the board and things -- so when I'm not talking I like to think that my radio shows are fine. No, everything, they said. The entire show was terrible. "Well, not terrible, just bad, right?" I said. No, terrible, they said.
Wednesday, May 16, 2012
Monday, February 27, 2012
70. Running, weather, beeeeeer!!!
Hello from Missoula MT! Here's what we've been up to lately: oh you know, bro, been doing a little drinking and driving - drinking is the official sport of the State of Montana, and driving drunk is a treasured state-sanctioned activity. Keeps things interesting up here in old Montana. Our drunken activities can be pretty hilarious and awesome - sometimes we drive on the sidewalks! Sometimes we drive on the wrong side of the street! Dude! Good times, man. True, sometimes people die, and that's unfortunate. Anyway, there's a new brewery by my house!
.....That was obnoxiously sarcastic. I'm not fond of sarcasm anymore, and I'm not fond of excessive drinking. The culture of overdrinking is not only accepted and tolerated but also encouraged and promoted. I don't know why, maybe it's the commercialization of booze? Greedy liquor manufacturers can make lots of money by promoting drinking as fun, friends, and sex, when the reality is heartbreak, homelessness, and death. Capitalism doesn't often have our best interests in mind. Maybe it's my communist leanings, or my Quaker heritage, but fuck. The other morning I was walking around downtown and there were vomit splats all over.
Books: I am reading This Side of Paradise by F. Scott Fitzgerald. What a self-centered ass (like all good alcoholics, I suppose). Last month I read The Lonely Passion of Judith Hearne by Brian Moore, very sad (if you're familiar with this book you might pick up on a theme in this entry). I am also reading The Egg and I by Betty MacDonald because the name is so gross. I have not yet finished that albatross Benjamin G.D. Franklin but I plan to by the end of this year.
Movies: I've watched about a thousand movies in the last few months. It was a spendy endeavour at first but now I check them out from the Missoula Public Library. I highly enjoy the Wholphin DVD series.
Running: Barring any structural or geographical dislocation, my running season should be quite good. After two stinkers, I'm feeling fine and I think I might be back on track. Probably won't be as fast as I was before my personal health tragedies but that's okay because the point of it all has changed.
Weather: not to jinx us but it never really got cold this winter. I'd be okay with that if it weren't for those bastard pine beetles.
Tomorrow will be 3 minutes and 18 seconds longer than today. Take care, and drink some water.
.....That was obnoxiously sarcastic. I'm not fond of sarcasm anymore, and I'm not fond of excessive drinking. The culture of overdrinking is not only accepted and tolerated but also encouraged and promoted. I don't know why, maybe it's the commercialization of booze? Greedy liquor manufacturers can make lots of money by promoting drinking as fun, friends, and sex, when the reality is heartbreak, homelessness, and death. Capitalism doesn't often have our best interests in mind. Maybe it's my communist leanings, or my Quaker heritage, but fuck. The other morning I was walking around downtown and there were vomit splats all over.
Books: I am reading This Side of Paradise by F. Scott Fitzgerald. What a self-centered ass (like all good alcoholics, I suppose). Last month I read The Lonely Passion of Judith Hearne by Brian Moore, very sad (if you're familiar with this book you might pick up on a theme in this entry). I am also reading The Egg and I by Betty MacDonald because the name is so gross. I have not yet finished that albatross Benjamin G.D. Franklin but I plan to by the end of this year.
Movies: I've watched about a thousand movies in the last few months. It was a spendy endeavour at first but now I check them out from the Missoula Public Library. I highly enjoy the Wholphin DVD series.
Running: Barring any structural or geographical dislocation, my running season should be quite good. After two stinkers, I'm feeling fine and I think I might be back on track. Probably won't be as fast as I was before my personal health tragedies but that's okay because the point of it all has changed.
Weather: not to jinx us but it never really got cold this winter. I'd be okay with that if it weren't for those bastard pine beetles.
Tomorrow will be 3 minutes and 18 seconds longer than today. Take care, and drink some water.
Tuesday, January 24, 2012
69.
Dear Sandra,
I heard the song your boyfriend wrote for you and even though you and I don't know each other I feel compelled to reach out. I'm worried about you. Your boyfriend's admonitions are signs of a controlling and paranoid personality. If a man answers your phone when he calls, he will break up with you - no room for explanation, no give or take. He offers no reasonable evidence that you're cheating on him, and he refuses to consider the possibility that the man answering your phone might be your father, or a telephone repairman.
You don't need that kind of emotional manipulation in your life - the paranoia, suspicion, jealousy, controlling behavior, the threats. Yes the song is catchy - I'm sure you've stayed up late dancing to it - but don't let the rock and roll blind you to what it actually is. The whole song is a threat! He even has to bring up all the money he's spending to call you. Let me be frank, Sandra: you need to break up with Bobby. He's a bully.
Look, I don't know you at all, and for all I know you're not two-timing Bobby - you probably aren't, he's obviously a paranoid jerk - but if you are, you need to break up with the other guy as well. I can understand why you'd seek shelter from Bobby Darin the control freak, but to go directly to a guy who thinks he needs to be the one to answer someone else's phone when it rings - why? He sounds just as controlling as Bobby!
Honey, dump them both, and spend some time alone. Start a journal. Go on a trip. Maybe look into counseling. You don't need a man bossing you around, calling you all the time, answering your phone. Take some time for yourself and become the strong, independent woman that I know you can be. Take care of yourself!
Kelsi
p.s. Just so you know, Bobby's selling records of this song all over the place, even Bonners Ferry, so complete strangers are privy to these problems in your personal life.
I heard the song your boyfriend wrote for you and even though you and I don't know each other I feel compelled to reach out. I'm worried about you. Your boyfriend's admonitions are signs of a controlling and paranoid personality. If a man answers your phone when he calls, he will break up with you - no room for explanation, no give or take. He offers no reasonable evidence that you're cheating on him, and he refuses to consider the possibility that the man answering your phone might be your father, or a telephone repairman.
You don't need that kind of emotional manipulation in your life - the paranoia, suspicion, jealousy, controlling behavior, the threats. Yes the song is catchy - I'm sure you've stayed up late dancing to it - but don't let the rock and roll blind you to what it actually is. The whole song is a threat! He even has to bring up all the money he's spending to call you. Let me be frank, Sandra: you need to break up with Bobby. He's a bully.
Look, I don't know you at all, and for all I know you're not two-timing Bobby - you probably aren't, he's obviously a paranoid jerk - but if you are, you need to break up with the other guy as well. I can understand why you'd seek shelter from Bobby Darin the control freak, but to go directly to a guy who thinks he needs to be the one to answer someone else's phone when it rings - why? He sounds just as controlling as Bobby!
Honey, dump them both, and spend some time alone. Start a journal. Go on a trip. Maybe look into counseling. You don't need a man bossing you around, calling you all the time, answering your phone. Take some time for yourself and become the strong, independent woman that I know you can be. Take care of yourself!
Kelsi
p.s. Just so you know, Bobby's selling records of this song all over the place, even Bonners Ferry, so complete strangers are privy to these problems in your personal life.
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