Friday, May 27, 2011

here is my may mix

Click the booby lady to download.

Thursday, May 26, 2011

being dropped by the scruff of your neck

Yesterday I lost my head for a bit after I read a story in the paper about a man who’d lived through some horrible things. This stuff is all around but sometimes things hit me so viscerally. In this story the man’s parents had taken him to the middle of nowhere when he was a child and then told him they were leaving him there, that they didn’t want him anymore. There were other horrible parts in his story but that one really broke me. I dropped what I was doing and I wrote him a long letter about how he doesn't know me but I wish I could go back in time and take him out of that horrible situation, that he was lied to, that he is incredibly precious and loveable. There are big tears (dried now) all over the paper. I just signed it “s.” After work I walked to the shelter where he was staying and went through a series elevators and all this to find this man, and as it turned out I couldn't just hand over the letter at the desk. So I went to the volunteer desk, then to the social worker liaison desk but wasn't getting anywhere so I’ll have to mail it. I hope it gets to him. To deal with the gut-wrenching stuff I read online I sometimes write down their first name and save all the names up and then once a week go to a cathedral and cry about it and ask for some kind of healing and restoration. I was begging for that today for the church we left and their relationship with the music guy they fired. When I read about that man who was abandoned by his parents I was reminded of our church and the music leader. He and his family had been part of this church for thirteen or so years and it was their family and social hub, and now they’re emotionally and economically bereft in this economy because of the church’s decision and they could lose their house. I still can’t believe that this happened. It’s the second most tragic thing that’s happened to me. It hurts my chest to ever look them and their kids in the eye because I can see their hurt. I’m drawing on the bitty seed, the dust mite, of faith I’ve got left that there will be something beautiful from this that we’ll see eventually, but for the past nine months it’s been a festering pile of rotting Marmite. I don’t think you can have insane beauty without insane tragedy so I’m trying to remind myself of that and I’m trying to embrace my grief every day and let myself feel it but sometimes it really feels so deep that it could sweep me away.

Balls.

Friday, May 20, 2011

david tells me about the SIFF opening night gala

David went to SIFF opening night last night and I clandestinely transcribed what he said. He went with our friend Chrissy because she's into acting and we love her and I'd worked all day and was in no mood.

David:  So I met Chrissy at Great Kabab, she was really excited because she loves SIFF and so she’d gotten this whole outfit at Forever 21 or something, it was this black and white stripey dress with vintage-y sailor buttons on the back and she had aqua shoes and everyone loved those. It was the best people watching because it was half douchebags and half really nice creative people, and then the third half was old rich people. So the classic SIFF douchebag is like a dude with the two-day growth that’s all manicured and then he has spiky hair. And then – oh, these girls. So we were standing in this perfect place where you could overlook the stairs and see all the people coming in and we picked out two whores. They were like working girls at the Bellagio, just overtanned and they had  on fake leather boots that were a terrible length and looked like...what are those really wrinkly dogs called? Sharpaes? So they were tromping up the stairs. They enter the story later in the evening. So at the top of the stairs was Nancy Guppy and she was this totally sweet lady who you could tell she was definitely, like, fifty but really beautiful in that she wasn't she wasn’t trying to be younger, she was just herself and really sweet and funny and so she interviewed me on camera and it was like a one minute interview and she goes “look at what this guy’s wearing!” and she really liked my shoes. So the other thing was that the whole night I knew that I was wearing something good because all the gay guys loved it and were high-fiving me.

Me:  Gay guys high five?

David:  Yeah, they would, and we’d be in line and they’d turn around and say “I have to say that’s an amazing jacket." So we went to this movie theater and we walked down this wing where there were these private booths and we found one where there were just five seats and no one was in there and it was awesome because you could peer down at all the people below but still text and talk. So we were figuring out who was sitting in which section, like where the rich people were sitting and were the pseudo-celebrities were sitting and stuff. We had been out in the lobby having drinks and everyone was rushing into the theater and I was like "we don’t need to rush in there, there’s going to be 45 minutes of speeches like ‘the city of Seattle is a great place to do arts.’" So sure enough we got in these seats and people come out and do puff-talking, like “the city of Seattle is proud to welcome you tonight with open arms. What a great city we live in” and just stroking each other and making pretend announcements and having pretend awards like “we’re pleased to announce a partnership tonight between the Sounders and SIFF” and everyone would clap and go awwww. So then they trotted out the president of the Sounders and he was like "we are grateful that this partnership is taking place with good volunteers and helping hands" and then HE trotted out an actual Sounder and a child and said “our partnership is about education and literacy and sport.” So get this, though. The movie we saw last night was called The First Grader and it took place in Africa with an African cast with an African man who’s 80 or something and he can’t read so he goes to school and is in a classroom of first graders, and that’s the story. So the mayor gets up before the movie started and he’s doing his own puffy congratulations and things and he says “with movies such as this, which stars and African-American man who blah blah blah” and I heard him say it but Chrissy caught it and the thing was that it was a horrible mistake because he’s not American. He's African. But a totally classic mistake. So it threw Chrissy for a second because she thought "is this an American movie?" and later I asked someone who’s on the City of Seattle staff and they were like “oh yeah. Mayor blew it.” So I had confirmation later in the evening.

Me:  Did you guys walk the red carpet?

David:  No but basically if you wanted to walk the red carper you had to divert yourself from entering the theater to a tiny section of red carpet that the media conglomerated around and from entering the red carpet and leaving it was like 10 feet long of red carpet with a special SIFF background. And ropes. But the real entrance was way easier to get into. So then they trotted out the director of the film and his entourage and the director was British and so he was more gracious and easier to listen to than the douchebags and old fogies. So the lights go down and the movie starts. We’re in these tiered private sections like what the judges from the Muppets would sit in. Then there was a screwup in the movie where suddenly the screen went black and everybody’s like “ohh “ and there’s a hush in the crowd. And the moment it came back on everone applauded like “good job projectionist! You fixed the problem!” That was annoying. Okay, so we’re going to get to the juicy part now. So I stepped out to go to the bathroom and as I’m walking down the long hallway, who do I pass but the two trashy whores that we’d picked out of the crowd as like “okay, they’re the sore thumbs of the whole evening.” So I passed them and I’m thinking “oh no, they’re going oto t take the seats behind us because people just left and those seats are now empty.” And while I’m in the bathroom I get a text from Chrissy: “Guess whose feet are on your seat?” And I go back to my seat and whores are sitting there and one of them had taken off her whore boots and had her bare feet over the seat next to Chrissy’s face! So then when I came in she sighed and went “aughhh” and pulled her feet back and put her boots back on and then they proceeded to snort coke. They were snorting and sniffling so loudly. And then there were a couple scenes where they’d cackle stupidly during some funny thing. I was trying with my camera phone to take a picture behind me but it was too dark. Okay, so the movie ended and everybody fled the theater to go get the food and we're talking three or four thousand people pressing out of the theater to the hall across the walkway thing and there are different vendors with sliders and things so we were in the hamburger station and everybody’s pressed up to the front and these piggy ladies go “This is kind of like Top Chef but if this was Top Chef you would get an F.” We had to get out because it was this horrible pig-pile of people pushing into each other trying to get their food so we went to the dance floor and immediately the dance floor had become what it becomes at the end of a wedding reception. You know how it the very tail end everyone’s drunk and dancing crazy, that’s how it was right at the very beginning. Old people, middle aged plastic surgery-ed women, whores, douchebags, everybody. There was this one VIP area called the Magnolia High Fi VIP and it was a total corporate thing. They had, ooo, big screen tvs and champagne on platters and ooo nice couches but there was nothing in there but douchenozzles and their fakey surgerey-ed girlfriends. That’s where style went to die because out on the main floor you had the hoi polloi and you got the whole range like artsy people and hangers-on and the old people who looked like they should be asleep in a library which is cool cause that’s where you see interesting things but the VIP area was totally boring and saltine cracker. We had to get out of there. I found James Keblas and he was going on about how he loves the Holy Rollers documentary. We saw some people we haven’t seen in awhile and they looked kind of confused that I was with Chrissy and not you so I had to explain you were home with the kids and had  worked all day and didn’t really want to come. Chrissy said “when I introduce you to people everyone just assumes you’re gay because you’re with me.” Chrissy was just hilarious and the perfect person to take and people-watch with. Then they just suddenly turned on fluorescent lights and were like “Get out.” And it was kinda early at that point and everyone was just getting into the party and they pulled the plug.

It was definitely worth going to, but not for the reasons they thought it was worth going to. Half of them were doing snooty pretending like "We're here to celebrate film" and just want to be seen and say "I'm an important person, you should know me" and the other half just wants to be where the party is and get their party on. Like, the way people were pressing into the snack table it was like "you're not here for film, you're here for little meat burgers." The way they were acting was hilarious. There were classic people, like a guy with a giant backpack on. In a crowd. Why? He was swinging it around and almost knocking Chrissy over. Why is it, in concerts and stuff you always get stuck next to the backpack guy. It's like having another person strapped to your back and they have no sense of space, they just knock into people with it.

I would definitely go again but not for the sake of film. I just want to people watch.

Tuesday, May 17, 2011

thoughts on the supposedly impending rapture

Our friend emailed us to ask what we think about the Save the Date rapture stuff. I thought I'd share David's reply, for whatever it's worth.

“It gives me comfort that Jesus essentially said, ‘You idiots trying to figure shit out, things never look like you expect them to! You thought King David was the messiah, then the next guy, then some other guy. Now that I am here you think I am going to whip out a sword and stab all the Romans. Fools. I do it my way and then you put the pieces together.’ Scripture says that we will have to be at the point where everyone is fed up with waiting for the rapture. Clearly, Christians aren't fed up yet. The people who get off on naming a date and time are doing damage. Jesus isn't interested in people ‘converted’ by virtue of fear. And what do you think will happen to those converts once he doesn't show up? In the meantime, not too many people get fearful anymore. Mostly people just say, ‘Look at those wacko Christians again. When they are wrong again, I will feel better about myself and my non-christianity.’

“During my theology masters at Regent I started to think of the afterlife as not such a harsh transition, but as a continuation. Families remain intact. Nature remains alive and all around us. There is sun and rain. Artists continue developing their craft. Time opens up, so that you can get together for long stretches of time with your favorite people now and from history. I like the idea of Jesus pointing to an empty bookshelf and saying to me, ‘You are going to fill this shelf with great stories and books, and I can't wait to read all of them. Take your time. And when you need another shelf, let me know. I am a carpenter, duh.’”

fun with wrong email addresses

My coworker Shari got this email by mistake that obviously wasn't meant for her, and she asked me to come up with something interesting to write back, so I did. (I hope she sends it.)

From: Emily
To: Sharon
Sent: Tuesday, May 17, 2011 10:28 AM
Subject: NSG 533

Hi Sharon,

I noticed on the time schedule that NSG 533 is videostreamed and in T 661 on Tues from 1:10-4:30...my preference is actually to come to class because i learn better in person but was previously told this class was strictly on-line. Can you clarify if it's both on-line and in person lecture?

Thanks,
Emily


From: Sharon
To: Emily
Subject: Re: NSG 533

Dearest Emily,

Thank you for your kind concern about whether this class is in person or online. In fact, I've been wondering that myself. I teach better online, but unfortunately, interacting with students is part of the job description. Haha! That reminds me. You'll love this: when I was interviewing for this job they asked me what my biggest strength is and I said that my strength is not killing students when they ask stupid questions! I get a LOT. You can only imagine. This question you asked is only halfway stupid. I get way worse, like "which building is our class in?" and "Can I have another syllabus?" so don't feel too bad.

Your prognosis for passing my class is dim at the outset, but if you can figure out on your own whether this class is online or an in-person lecture, then I will give you an A+. So, which do you think it is?

Fondly (in the fondle sense of the word),
Sharon

Monday, May 9, 2011

new fiction by david drury

David wrote this for a Housefire book that's coming out. They gave him the title and then he wrote the story.

A String of Pony
By David Drury

When the Indians killed a buffalo, they used the whole buffalo. What, are you bragging with that? Do you want a cookie? No. You have one. And it tastes like a buffalo.

When Mr. Standish, the butcher, put down Mrs. Prancey-Fance (madness, blindness, phantom kicking), I can’t speak to just how much of our family’s cherished pony he used in the rendering process, but at least 250 yards of her were wound into the finest pink kite string this side of paradise. String is less insulting than glue, but still. Of little comfort to me was the fact that any Indian would be proud of the strong yet lightweight equine twine. If flying kites was something Indians do, but they don’t. At least not that I’ve seen in any pictures.

How shall I describe it? Pony string is sinewy and rigid, but light as like the halo of an angel. Ever wonder about the tough pink skin encircling a circle of baloney? Pony. Reach back and wing a slice of THAT across a school cafeteria. It’ll sail on you, man. God did not make anything in a circle like that, by the way. That is a PERSON who made it. From pony. Have you ever heard an expression, “Riding the baloney pony?” The internet at the church library believes that it means that you have eaten a WHOLE LOT of baloney, so much so that it is akin to being carried away, say, on a literal pony. To my surprise, my sister was a big fan of this manner of baloney consumption, according to close friends and graffiti.

I wouldn’t have known anything about Mrs. Prancey-Fance’s repurposing, but that I was riding my bicycle on the paved trail at the park a week later. I felt a sudden burning sensation across my neck and was thrown to the ground. Kids were pointing and laughing. I clawed at my throat. I had been clotheslined—with kite string. It was none other than Elmer Standish, son of the butcher who stood clutching that greasy spool of pink string? I was seized with the nearly decapitating truth—pony. Elmer saw the look on my face and swallowed hard. But when the laughs and taunts of the other boys continued, His heart hardened. He flexed his control over my weakness inside this new moment of truth-fueled grief. Elmer began to sneer and delight in the power. He tugged on the string, such that the kite danced high above us, taunting me, held aloft on dead pony dreams and wind.

I raced home on a mission of revenge. I found my father’s hedge clippers and tucked them under one arm. I raced back, salivating when I saw that kite on the horizon, still bobbing above the trees. I made a pass on the paved trail and snipped clean through that string. Elmer and his buddies gasped. The liberated kite shuddered and sailed off across the park, string waving behind it. Elmer and his buddies scrambled onto their bikes and gave chase. And as the kite and her string sailed over the pond, across the road, and down into town, I waved and whispered, “Goodbye Mrs. Prancey-Fance.” And I swear that the kite whinnied in response, tossing away sadness with the flick of its mane. And the kite did not float or fly, but only pranced down the avenues on glittery hooves, over rooftops and barns, galloping toward a heaven I had never believed in until now.

Wednesday, May 4, 2011

tracy

I made a new friend last night. She goes to my new church and we found out she and I went to the same college and she's a therapist now. Last night I told our group some of my story with church and family and she listened so well (as therapists are wont to do) and afterwards said "Jesus. What a fuckin lot of pain. Fuck. Glad you're here, girl."

*heart swelled*