somewhere over the rainbow

24 July, Markleeville, CA. Stars aplenty. One general store in town to buy foodstuffs. Spinning rack of used novels near the freezer section. On the spinning rack, this:
After my initial foray into the romance genre with my Ralph's purchase of The Greek Tycoon's Blackmailed Mistress, I was intrigued. After reading the back of the book, however, I was captivated enough to make the purchase.

HIS FLIGHT OF FANCY
For seasoned pilot David Terrell, nothing seemed more foolish than flying into a rainbow to wish for a wife. But the down-to-earth widower would do anything for his little girl, Jamie, and she would settle for nothing less than a fairy-tale princess as a mother. So to humorhis six-year-old, David flew into the next rainbow he saw - and emerged in 1886 Wyoming.
HER POT OF GOLD
Analisa Ludke couldn't believe it when the man emerged - like a storybook prince - afrom the strange flying contraption. She welcomed David into her home and soon discovered that he was no mere fantasy. And as he struggled to return to his child, Analisa fought to understand the flood of emotions that engulfed her whenever he was around. Until she realized that David's lovecould take her to a place where dreams really do come true...ACROSS THE RAINBOW.

Guys. I had no idea there were so many subgenres in the romance genre. I was sort of captivated by the idea of historical romances, amused by the Harlequin "Babies Galore!" series, but the Timespell Timeswept Romance series blows my mind completely. These fantasies know no bounds, what with time travel an easy possibility and all.

Anyway, here are some select quotes from this fine work of literature, in case you won't take the time to be reading it yourself:

"Standing before him was a young woman who looked like every man's fantasy. Blond, beautiful, tall, with legs that went on forever. Her clothing was right out of a history book on the American West - kind of a Calamity Jane outfit of calico shirt, cotton twill pants, and a wide leather belt. She also held the reins of a huge, pale grey horse that resembled a knight's trusty steed."

"Or, she thought, easing into the chair he sat in each night, she could just leave with him. Forget her fears and fly off into the unknown future - perhaps. What if she couldn't leave her own time? David's presentation of his theories on time travel had made so much sense, and yet even he had to admit that no one knew how it worked for sure."

"She didn't belong with him, she knew, as the wind dried her cheeks almost as quickly as her tears fell, and she didn't belong in his century. They were from two different worlds, two times that should never have met except for a young girl and her belief in rainbows and happily ever after endings. This story would not have that kind of ending. Because as much as she didn't belong in David's world, she didn't belong to him." (you can guess what that's a setup for)

"Riding toward her was someone with dark hair and tanned skin, a plaid shirt that had once belonged to Jurgen, and tight denim pants. Oh, how she knew those denim pants."

"Perhaps she was tense from worrying. Her emotions had taken a beating since making love to David, getting ill, deciding to go with him, then worrying about her ability to leave her world behind. She'd gone through so much recently that she didn't trust her judgment any longer."

"'David, there's no rainbow!'
'We can't see the rainbow from up here. We aren't at the right angle. If everything happens like it did before, though, we should feel a tingling sensation and see rainbow colors just briefly as we pass from your time into mine.'"

On the last page:
"He folded his arms around her. 'I love you to*, my princess from the rainbow kingdom, more than you'll know in a thousand lifetimes.'"

*yes, "to." not "too." Please, someone, let me edit these. There were a few mistaken "it's" strewn about too. I mean, to.

6 weeks

1. rock climbing.

2. maxine memorial dim sum adventures.

3. a Hitchcock-themed film festival complete with a plane busting through the movie screen and killing a judge. Check out Jessica's entry in which my shoe goes flying at the end:


4. a last-minute superfast road trip to Orem UT, with stopovers in Mesquite for Keno and prime rib, and the Mad Greek Cafe in Baker for hummos and attempts to get pet phrases from The Greek Tycoon's Blackmailed Mistress translated.

5. judging a spelling bee (two ways to spell cockswain/coxswain).

6. roadtrip with Dave up to Tahoe for the Wanderlust festival. Read his account, and watch Gillian Welch and Jenny Lewis:


7. meteor showers with goats.

8. the end of infodesk duties for a young single adult conference which 10k californians attended.

9. actually losing my right flip flop on Batman at Six Flags on Thursday...after the ride was over. Retiring the left flip flop in the late night turbulent waters of Roaring Rapids.

life on the edge of the continent.

TJ, Mush and I began regular trips to Venice maybe 13 or 14 years ago, and we reunited there today. While we didn't see everyone's favorite boardwalk standard, the turbaned rollerskating electric guitar playing hanger-on, much remains unchanged since the days of our first visits. Flavorburst ice cream cones, two girls shooting up heroin, plenty of medicinal weed offerings, overpriced henna, cheap plastic stegosauri that growled, and these delights:

I need one of these for MazdaTron.

Did the missionaries do this? Nice tailoring of the message to the audience.

Need my palm read so desperately. By Zoltar or the lady whose cat has been telling fortunes since the 1970s. Come to think of it, I didn't see her out either.

A fellow was irritated with me for taking this picture because it infringed upon the rights to his work. I'm sure he licensed that photo of Kobe used in his LA skyline poster above.

Technicolor shemaghs...where were these in Yemen last year?

I am the 1984 Grammys.

28 February 1984, my mom's 23rd birthday.

The night Michael Jackson won a record 8 Grammys (RIP, MJ. you are not alone.)


John Denver was the host. (note: John Denver was like mother's milk to me. I grew up with "Calypso" on repeat, he provided my first introduction to Placido Domingo, and I wound up working for his publishing company years later. I wore black the week he died.)

Irene Cara won for "Flashdance...What a Feeling!". I wore the LP of this soundtrack thin, running around my living room on my toes like Jennifer Beals had done. Flashdance is why I danced. And a couple decades later, I might have cried tears of joy when I aerobicized with Richard Simmons to this same tune, hearing him praise my moves with glitter and enthuasiasm.


Note: this also led to a ridiculous love for FlashBeagle a year later.


Cyndi Lauper performed "Time After Time." This was one of many staples at 2009's Night of Soft Rock. Sadly, her guitarist did not join us as he did with her at 0:57. Note the exasperated show casting-away at 2:35 as well...a familiar dance, I'm sure.


Pat Benatar also won for "Love is a Battlefield." So, I love Pat Benatar. I do not know the number of times I have gone on manic, adrenaline-purging late night runs to "Heartbreaker" that morph into thrashing and epic dancing in my alley. But nothing really compares to the Very Special Place In The Middle of My Heart that "We Belong" occupies. I also adore whales.


The Cats soundtrack was awarded. For maybe 2 decades, I desperately wanted to play the role of Victoria, the white cat who begins the official Jellicle's Ball. Instead, I find myself Grizzabell.


But Bonnie Tyler's performance of "Total Eclipse of the Heart"? I don't even know what to say. I am this. Or at least have played this on the piano and danced to it quite. a. lot.


25 years later, I am still all this.

call me master.

Introducing Tron, MPD and Sniar, MPH.

However, my real specialty still lies in self-photography. My arm is long.
Thanks for celebrating with me, guys.

happy birthday, dear wednesday

This trite little childhood poem reasserted itself in my life recently, causing irritation of the same ilk as Myers-Briggs categorization or Hogwarts sorting:

Monday's child is fair of face
Tuesday's child is full of grace
Wednesday's child is full of woe
Thursday's child has far to go
Friday's child is loving and giving
Saturday's child works hard for a living
But the child who is born on the Sabbath Day
Is bonny and blithe and good and gay.

Note: I was mistakenly born on a Wednesday.

Somewhere in the more correct annals of time, it is written that Wendy is, in fact, a Thursday.
(art by anji one - thank you)

No matter. This time measurement business is an artificial construct anyway.

But if we ARE going to bother measuring it out as we do in days weeks months years, let's get one thing straight: it's happy birthDATE, not happy birthDAY. I have no intention of instigating reform on the thriving card and balloon industry, nor do I expect people to change up the lyrics to that oft-sung "Happy Birthday" song (note: Warner Chappell makes millions in royalties off that tune still; it doesn't go into the public domain until 2030). However, I do plan on wishing people a happy birthday every time their birth day roles around. Which will be once a week. I need more celebration - and more cupcakes - in my life.

one is the loneliest number

The only human I have seen in the last 24 hours was a woman who just knocked on my door accidentally, thinking mine was the home of the surprise birthday party (nope. that'd be the neighbors across the way, apparently).

I should make use of all this alone time learning how to dance as Ethiopians do. When I was in Yemen last year, I went to an Ethiopian wedding, and the way all the men and women moved their shoulders bordered on unreal. I was expected to dance similarly, and my efforts unsurprisingly provoked giggles. Or pity. I'm not sure.