Monday, January 12, 2004

T Day p.m.

After I wrote my first post today, Liberty wrote me and gave me his answer to my question in yesterday's blog about whether to submit the 14 page paper that tries to tell the whole history of sexual attitudes in our culture (and which may be seen as being off the point) or to return to my original outline and spend another day on that. He said of course I should send in the paper I already wrote and move on. So I did. Whew!

I added a Google search function to my website, but it does not find anything on my site because Google has not indexed my site. Since there are only two links to my site, one from this blog and another from, I don't have much hope of having Google find it (since they search sites that have lots of links from elsewhere). I'm going to wait and see if gets discovered by Google in the next few days. If not, I have to find another search option. Or not. It's not essential. Just seemed like a good thing to learn how to do. Next to do: Comments. My dilemna with Comment providers is that they want donations, and I would rather not. Since I'm out of work and should stop spending money like a drunken sailor (to add another cliche).

Time for another abrupt ending.

Or not. I made grilled salmon, honey-glazed carrots, and rice today for lunch. Saved some for Liberty for supper. Am starting aduki beans and brown rice. I remember loving the combination of little red beans, sesame seeds, and brown rice, but the last time I tried to make this dish, I didn't eat much of it. It didn't taste the same. Don't know if it's the same recipe.

Tried for the third time to order the Yoga for Scoliosis video for me, Lib, Lauren, and Angela Sullivan today. Elise's fulfillment house does not give you access to a person, and does not deal with complexities like your wanting to order videos to send to separate addresses. I wrote her for the second time and this time I asked her for an easier way. I don't think I'm the only one who would be turned off by the order method. She needs a shopping cart!

Moonglow and I are in touch after maybe five years. Today we planned to go next Monday to a matinee to see the movie Something's Got to Give, about an older woman Diane Keaton in her fifties having to choose between sweet and respectful Keanu Reeves and lecherous Jack Nicholson.

Moonglow and I are approximately the same age. She was studying at Radcliffe while I was at Brandeis, and we were both living in Cambridge after I dropped out and she didn't (not knowing each other) when Allen Ginsberg came to town. (I wrote up my experiences with him a few months ago. Need to post that story at my website soon. )

After I met George in Boston, we started to travel together, and we aimlessly travelled around the country and ended up in San Francisco in 1967 or so. After about 3 years, I headed east out of the city in the old orange VW van with husband, George, six-month old baby Liberty, a very frightened cat, on our way to start a new life in Fargo. The cat freaked out so badly while we drove across the Bay Bridge that we left it with Marv and Linda in Berkeley before we drove up Highway 5 -- into the biggest blizzard the West could remember in many a year. Fade into a white blur.

Then 19 or so years later, I returned to CA, this time to Silicon Valley, recruited and relocated by Sun for a tech writing position. I had "gone straight." After my divorce, I'd become a fundamentalist Christian, and then returned to the Catholic Church because of the Eucharist and because of the reliability of the Church's teaching authority. So when I came back here and started seeing that there were still thousands of Grateful Dead followers, I was surprised. I guess I thought leaving that scene was part of maturing.

Moonglow was a tech writer too at Sun, and she still followed the Dead. She moderated a Grateful Dead alias or news group, and like most Dead heads would go to five days of concerts in a row whenever the Dead set up a schedule. Each night would have a different set.

Some time ago, maybe five years, Moonglow got laid off. Next week will be the first time I see her since then. She is getting a degree someplace where her dissertation includes Alan Ginsberg and Timothy Leary.

I find it usually doesn't work out too well when I try to be friends with someone whose values are not like my own. Actually, whose values ARE like my own, except possibly the Pope? I cannot handle hearing people tell me about their sexual exploits. And since I don't have the same ribald, with it attitude that got me a certain amount of companionship in the 60s, I really don't have much to add. I just start thinking of how to tell them how there is a better way to live, that brings more-authentic happiness. And that puts a blanket (day's cliche total has now reached three) on things.

Now, I'll really stop.
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