No Chaser

Tattoo

I got me a new tattoo.  My brother took the picture.  Thanks D!



It took about half an hour for the actual tattoo.  Really short!  I got it on the inside of my upper arm, and I'll tell you something:  it fucking hurts to get tattoooed there, strikes all kinds of nerves that radiate out and tweak and twinge in ways you wouldn't expect.  I also saw the woman who did my back while I was there, and she was happy to see her work again, happy with how it had turned out.

Smelt came along with me and held my hand and watched the whole process with a huge grin on her face.  She and the tattoo artist held a wonderfully distracting conversation about Dr. Pepper, Berries and Cream Dr. Pepper (who knew?), the South, and Borat.  It was a thoroughly enjoyable experience.  Now I just have to decide what to get next.

The text is from the Aeolus chapter of Ulysses, and you can probably use your literary interpretative skills to decipher its meaning.  For me, it's about being calm, patient, and sly enough to witness or capture something shy, elusive, ephemeral.

posted by: NoChaser at January 26, 2007 11:31 | link | comments (4) |

Finalizing

This morning, the equivalent of the absolute Judgment of Divorce came through.  I took the dogs on an incredibly long walk, crying the entire way.  Fortunately, not too many people were out, but one jogger did look a bit concerned.  Crazy woman with chihuahua and a river of tears on her face and neck?  I'd look twice.

I ended up at the swingset that overlooks a graveyard.  It's a swingset I've spent many good and contemplative hours upon.  I decided to try it out. 

As I swung, I became increasingly aware of my loss, and staring out over the gravestones, something his sister said to me kept repeating.  He's gone.  He's gone.  He's gone.  He's gone.  Kept repeating until I was repeating it.  Faster as I swung higher.  Until it crescendoed in a stark gaping acceptance of the fact.  The very simple fact:  he's gone.

posted by: NoChaser at January 22, 2007 12:31 | link | comments (2) |

Work

Smelt just emailed me one of those form emails that asks you to answer questions about yourself and send them to your friends so you all learn more about each other.  I actually like these things, but no one else I know does (besides Smelt).  However, one of the questions seemed a good one to post because it asks you to list jobs you've had. 

Although I have spent the majority of my working life teaching, editing, or researching & writing, I have had tons of jobs, and as I am now in the process of changing careers and looking for my first real full-time library job, it seems a nice time to reflect on non-teaching, non-research/writing, non-editing work I have done in the past.

Four jobs I have had in my life:

1.  Collections.  I worked in a Savings and Loan as a teller and insurance verifier, and then I got promoted -- to collections.  It sucked.  I had to call people who were late with their payments and coerce them into paying.  I had to call every day until I got in touch with someone and then get a date when they thought they could pay, and when they inevitably failed to pay on that date, I had to call them again.  I was as kind and understanding as I could be.  Most people seemed to appreciate that, but some people yelled at me anyway.  As if it was my fault they couldn't pay their bills.  I knew I was just adding to their stress, but I hated them taking it out on me.  The management called delinquent clients scumbags and the like.  They also tried to make me wear nylons at that job.  I felt more aligned with the clients than the management.

2.  Cabaret singer.  For a very short period of time, I sang in a cabaret/restaurant two nights a week.  They paid me in food and drinks.  I'd drink Cosmopolitans with the pianist and my friend L (a dancer) in between sets.  When the owner hit on me in his office -- he actually tried to get me to sit on his lap -- I quit.

3.  Hearing Aid Audiologist.  I gave hearing tests, made impressions of people's ears, fit and adjusted hearing aids, and was basic bookkeeper for the office.  I worked for my best friend's dad, who was a hoot.  People who came in would often mistake me for a boy, and he would joke that I was his son.  He had a Victrola with old Spike Jones records in the front of the office that we'd play when it was slow. I loved working with him, and I loved working with the senior citizens.  When I made house calls, they would show me photo albums and tell me stories.  My favorite client was the flapper who still used 1920s slang.

4.  Home Care Aid.  I changed bedbound seniors' diapers and gave them baths.  I cooked and cleaned and did some child care, some grocery shopping.  I felt good about helping, but the more intimate tasks made me uncomfortable in large part because I am small and was not very adept at lifting people.

posted by: NoChaser at January 15, 2007 12:39 | link | comments |

Dancing days are here again

I love to dance.  In fact, I spent the majority of my youth dancing my ass off.  I tried modern, African, and jazz, danced Latin styles and swing, and truly enjoyed a good slam, pogo, or scooby.  Unlike many people, I also love polka music and love to polka.  I used to take dance classes and went out to dance in various styles almost weekly with friends.  But all that somehow dissipated around 1994 and seems each year farther and farther away.

Sure I've done some dancing in between.  I danced at Smelt's wedding.  At a party for grad students, I danced a lot of rowdy swing with a friend of the DJ.  Randomgirl and I talked about taking a tap class during grad school, and although RG has her own tap shoes, we never did figure out how to fit it in.  My pal RB is a big clogger and tried to get me to join that scene in the Land of Corn; sadly, the music drove me a little nuts.  And, I've certainly danced around in my living room or kitchen on occasion, especially after seeing any really good dance performance.   But, there simply has not been enough dance in my life.

Now, I am changing my ways.  I am resisting my urges no longer.  I have enrolled in a Salsa class that begins on Wednesday.  Viva la danza!

posted by: NoChaser at January 07, 2007 17:24 | link | comments (2) |

Holy Hail

Here in the Land of Rain and Coffee, I sat yesterday in a caffeine-fueling station, my back to the window trying to have a chat with Little Miss Sunshine who kept watching the window, I assumed, for cute girls passing by. 

After a minute or so of heavy distraction, she said, "I'm sorry, I just ..."

She must be pretty cute, I thought, Maybe I should take a gander?

"... It's just that, is that hail?!"

I turned around, and indeed, the biggest hail I'd ever seen was, well, hailing down outside. 

"I'm going to get in it," I proclaimed and walked out under the softly pelting mini-snowballs. 

I caught some in my hands and brought them in to my friend, and we sat, along with everyone else in the café, staring out at the white wonderful weather as it fell and coated the streets, the passing buses, the hair and hats and coats of pedestrians.

Walking in the streets later, much of the hail had turned to slush, but huge balls of it remained suspended within the slush.  It was just like tapioca.

posted by: NoChaser at January 05, 2007 16:40 | link | comments |