I received this



in my inbox this morning. From my mother. This is the same woman who once grounded me for an entire summer when I was home from my Freshman year in college. I think she's lightening-up a bit with time. It's funny how relationships with parents change as we get older. Where there was once way too much bitterness, resentment, and embarassment just by way of association. There is now much appreciation, admiration and gratitude. A sense of humor makes it all the more special as well.

PS. This photo came from a forward. I have no idea to whom it belongs or should be credited. If this picture is of you and you don't appreciate me broadcasting the hilarity of your situation to the interweb, just let me know.

CIB in Flagstaff

I was lucky enough to catch the CIB tour in Flagstaff last night. The music was hot, the message empowering, and the community inspiring. I have to admit I've been woefully unaware of the Native HipHop movement.

It was a beautiful thing to see so many native kids out supporting and rallying for the music, the cause. This movement is inspiring a new generation to walk proud and to stand tall. Their message is clear--it's about Unity.

My favorite performer of the evening was Quese Imc, DJ ShockB and 2020 who make-up Culture Shock Camp. These guys effortlessly blend hiphop and reggae with their native voices calling for awareness and ascention.

The CIB tour heads to New Mexico next so if you're out and about in Albuquerque go on and support the movement.

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I just had an epiphany about where my love of all things funky, jazzy and shiny came from...

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I love this extended version. Takes me back to the good ol days...

Thanks, LeahPeah.

Ostrich vs. Llama

I stopped by an Ostrich farm yesterday on my way down to Tucson. It's a strange place, this Ostrich farm. It's in the middle of nowhere on the side of the I-10. It's real dusty and there are about a gazillion Ostrich out there in fences hanging out. They sell Ostrich meat and Ostrich eggs--though I don't know what the hell you are supposed to do with an Ostrich egg in the kitchen. That's a damn large omelet.



My short stop got me to thinking about Llamas and Ostrich. They are actually quite similar in size and stature with elongated necks and curious eyes. I started wondering what would happen if you put a Llama and an Ostrich in close confines. Would they duke it out. I imagine lots of spitting and pecking.

Maceo Parker and a Moon in Scorpio

I love Maceo Parker. "People Get Ready" from Roots Revisited makes me so insanely happy. It's my new favorite morning-time song. I listen to it and drink my tea with the sunshine streaming in the window. PingPong dances along in his tank; he loves the saxamaphone. I sing all the words real loud so my neighbors can hear, there aren't any lyrics in this version so it's all me--loud and proud baby!

I've taken to checking my horoscope online again. I went through a phase a couple of years ago where I would do this daily. It was a time of uncertainly and change, and I think I was looking for some kind of road map in a muddy puddle, something to tell me that good things were going to come my way if I was patient. I find myself in this mode again currently. Life is so full of changes--some fantastic, some heartwrenching. I think I have to realize though that my yahoo horoscope isn't going to give me any serious insight into my life. If anyone has a legitimate free daily horoscope sight, hook me up.

Happy Friday!

full moon

Summer has arrived here--or what I've always considered summer, which may, in fact, be Spring in Arizona. It was a beautiful 85 degrees today with a slight breeze from the East. The sun here is so bright, I love it. I bathe in it. After living so many years in New Hampshire where it's dark at 4:00pm in the winter, I am soaking in the sun here. I get to wear all my favorite little sun dresses, long flowy skirts and tank-tops galore.

I've found myself in more than one thrift shop this week. It was my lucky week for second-hand shopping, I'll tell you what! I found myself gravitating to bright yellow muscle-tees and pencil skirts in every color. I also found an exact replica, (brand new) of my favorite grey t-shirt skirt which I coinsidentally ruined with bleach last weekend. I won't even skip a beat with my favorite weekend ensamble which also includes my DC Sisterhood shirt (whoop!) and my worn-thin teva flip-flops.

I played tennis tonight and sucked ass. Sometimes I'm good at tennis. I don't hit anything over the fence, things land in the appropriate places, I'm fast as lightening. Other times my feet are lead and my arms are jello. This is more mental and motivational than it is anything physical.

Lately I've realized that my mental state and attitude can totally alter my performance in life. The challenge then becomes figuring out how to harness that energy in a consistent way so as to continually evolve and grow like a bean stalk into a glorious future.

Z and I recently watched the documentary '911:In Plane Sight'. I have to admit upfront that I fell asleep halfway through. It suggests that a Boeing 747 aircraft did not actually collide with the outer wall of the Pentagon. If all the evidence they're presenting is scientifically and factually correct, then I'd certainly give some thought to the ideas presented. They go so far as to say that the planes that crashed into the WTC were not, in fact, commercial jets but that they were perhaps US military planes. I don't know if these theories have any merit, but they did get me thinking 9/11 vividly again. Is it me, or is the frequency catastrophic disasters-both man-made and natural increasing?

under seige

This weekend, we found one of these scampering across our kitchen floor:



I'm now wearing shoes at all time, shaking out anything that could possibly house a scorpion before picking it up, and having nightmares about getting stung in the eye.

The exterminator comes tomorrow.

Today I bought a Glamour Magazine. This superficial indulgence may have been a response to the inner tumult that I've been wrangling with this month. It's funny how things sometimes just gain momentum and you start examining your life more critically. All of a sudden you can't turn back, you've internalized a lesson. Motivation and sacrifice become totally subjective. The balance between obligation and independence is a tricky mother-fucker.

I'm in Santa Barbara this week and though it is cold and rainy, it is beautiful. This town is a little oasis--the palm trees here seem much wilder and more massive than they do at home. I love the missions and all the history in this town. The best part is being so close to the ocean; there is something so comforting in salty air. Today, I stood in the pouring-down rain on the beach just breathing.

So, Glamour says that 36C is the average American woman's bra size; this is up from 34B 15 years ago. I'm afraid that I fall woefully short from the norm these days, especially in Snottsdale where plastic surgery is practically a drive-through industry. Glamour goes on to say that the average woman pees 6-8 times a day and that only one-third of women think about sex every day. As you can tell, I am in need of a good book...suggestions sincerely appreciated.

Happy Pointless Post Day!