A Declaration

I want to be the boots to your rodeo.

Wasteside - Regina Spektor

In 2005 & 2006, I used to carry this chorus around with me in my head all day, singing it through the redwoods, pruning back plants while gardening, generally wandering about. Tonight, I am going to see Regina Spektor live. Wow.

---

I was sleeping by the wasteside of tomorrow
But its better than sleeping by the wasteside of today
All the barbershops and funeral-homes were open
And the customers were coming and the business was doing great

I was sleeping by the wasteside of tomorrow
Just dreaming dreams and drooling on my bed
All the people in my town would be born
Then they'd get themselves a little hair cut
And then promptly after they'd be dead

I was sleeping by the wasteside of tomorrow
When a drunk girl awoke me on the train
But I did not see her stumbling and I did not hear her mumbling
As I dubbed myself a passenger
And kindly stepped away

I was sleeping by the wasteside of tomorrow I was sleeping
I was sleeping I was sleeping by the wasteside of tomorrow
I was sleeping by the wasteside of tomorrow of tomorrow
Ladies and gentlemen
I was just sleeeeee-ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhh

I was sleeping by the wasteside of tomorrow
But it's better than sleeping by the wasteside of today
All the barbershops and funeral-homes were open
And the customers were coming and the business
Was
Doing
Great...

My Mind

At 10:40 PM, I published "squishy wishy wishy washy splishy splashy sploshy." to my blog. At 10:41 PM, I was chastising myself for only writing "squishy wishy wishy washy splishy splashy sploshy." That's not the point of this blog, my mind says. That's not the point of this assignment, my mind echoes.

What is the point of this assignment then? To write something, one a day, and have it have a time-stamp so I can't cheat or fib or forget? It is to get me to write. I think maybe the moderns' would have quite liked my "squishy wishy wishy washy splishy splashy sploshy." It kinda reminds me of e.e.cummings (was he a modern?). It also reminds me of Holes. The sound effects in that book are great. (Yes, I do believe books have sound effects.)

You see, "squishy wishy wishy washy splishy splashy sploshy." it sounds in my brain right now. All the celebration and acheivement, the finality and question, the fatigue and countless tasks. You see, today I had my final class for my Master's programme. (Yes, programme, not program.) Today was the final class and, well, that is my final seminar/lecture class until an undefined moment, an unpredictable moment from which point I will return to the classroom. And to be honest, I hope it is when I am leading the class, not taking it.

Today I spoke with my dissertation advisor about continuing at my university to complete a PhD. A PhD. Never in my life, before 8 months ago, 12 months ago, 6 months ago, did I seriously consider that I, Erica Marie, would want/get/desire such a degree, programme, length of research. And yet, I do. I really do.

You see, I'm not done yet. I'm not done yet with this subject of books and words and love. I'm not finished reading about books and words and love. And, more to the point, I'm not fed up yet with writing about books and words and love. I may never be done. I may never want to be done. And this is a chance to continue that love, that investigation of the production, the creation, the telling of love. Of love, it's what I want to do.

Onomono-mind

squishy wishy wishy washy splishy splashy sploshy.

You asked me once...

You asked me once what it was like in my head. This is the first line of a poem I started heading up I-5 home again. Birds in the trees. Low sun over the valley's hills. You asked me once what it was like in my head, and this isn't the poem, but this is what's it's like.

I drum the edge of the laptop to Coldplay that has randomly come onto iTunes. My love sings along next to me, absent-mindley. She is doing her own work, too. I like the acoustic guitar.

I also like you. I've been thinking of you all day, off and on, around and about. Fingernails tapping on the laptop again. It seemed somehow appropriate today: the dark grey, the rain pouring down without warning.

I still haven't checked my bank balance. I don't have job prospects for January. I ignore these facts-falsities-facts and imagine other houses, other days, other conversations.

I think I'm starting to censor myself.

Photo & One-Liner

'If we have marriage and career plans, does that mean we're becoming power lesbians?'

and...

My pre-Thanksgiving left-overs fridge

Where I've Been

Wow. That is the first word that comes to mind in reflecting upon the last four days: wow. As you may have noticed, I've been gone from one a day for more than a day with Thanksgiving festivities. At home in California, there are three days of traditions. For my first year in England for Thanksgiving, there ended up being three days of festivities.

The actual day of Thanksgiving my mum-in-love brought out all the surprises after she joined us in London for the holiday so I could be with family. First, it was a bowl of Jelly Bellies and a plate of vegetarian sushi. Then, I was banished to the bedroom while her and Alex decked out the living room/dining room with fabrics, candles, potpourri, flowers and food. After that, while all the yummy food a la Marks & Spencers was being heated and the cava flowing, our front buzzer rang with surprise guests of J&E (Alex's sister & her wife) with their dog, Foxy, to top off all the surprises!! Warm, loved: such a relaxing evening with my second family on this side of the ocean.

Friday brought the baking: family recipes of sugar cookies and pumpkin pies. Attempted home-made hummus and planning for our first turkey roast the next day. I even got to talk to the family and all the cousins in California via the delightful possibilities of the internet (thank you, Skype!)

Thanksgivin' a la Tooting! happened on the Saturday with 16 of us (16!) filling out the 3 tables + chairs spread Last Supper style down the center of our living space: decorating cookies'; enjoying devilled eggs, wine and champagne; feasting on the intense amount of food provided; conducting the most stellar clean-up job I've ever seen from a collective group of people at a party; and playing games and chatting until the clock struck twelve.

Endless moments to be thankful for, countless people to feel loved by near and far, epic proportions of food to be relished over.

Mmm, the food. A one a day list to be drooled over:

• Delia's style turkey with butter, bacon, salt, Tony's Creole seasoning (not Delia style) and lemon
• Mashed potatoes with spring onions, butter, sour cream and milk
• Sweet potato souffle with pecans
• Southern Green Bean Casserole with home-made fried onions
• Cornbread
• Devilled Eggs
• Home-made hummus with carrots & celery
• Champagne, wine and sweet tea
• Nut-Vegetable Loaf
• Brie & Goats Cheese
• Cranberry sauce a la Britian
• Cranberry sauce a la Washington
• Hawaiian style stuffing
• Paxo stuffing
• Home-made sugar cookies
• Home-made pumpkin pies
• Ice cream, Double Cream, Cornish Cream
• New York Cheesecake
• Mini Mince Pies
• Chocolate Tart
• Bakewell Tart
• Tarte aux Pommes (Apple Tart)
• Citron Tart!