Monday, September 27, 2004


Dammit, why didn't someone tell me about that price tag? And to think I sat like that all night in the corner of the stage. Sort of like the time I waltzed outta the ladies room at that hip party in L.A. with the back of my hot pink spandex dress tucked into my panty hose. Oh...wait...that wasn't me, that was my friend, P. But I did later inherit the dress...

This is my "studied insouciance" pose. Do you like it? It tends to keep the drunks away...though not all of them. (Losers.) The downside is that although it looks like I'm relaxed, my right leg tends to go to sleep holding it that way for four hours. But who cares? At least I look cool (except for the Minnie Pearl touch). Yeah, I know, the outfit's a bit racy. But damn, girl, it's hot here! If I have to sit through a gig with a fake smile on my face, I at least wanna be comfortable.

It was a good run while it lasted. Now I gotta find a new gig. I'm already working on some new poses. Posted by Hello

Saturday, September 25, 2004

Sun Kings

This was taken last night at a certain bar/restaurant that's closing forever tonight. Tonight will be madness. (I like it when he's all hot and sweaty...even if he did steal my bandana...)

I have to admit that I thought of dooce whenever he played the cowbell. And no, he wasn't playing it standing up with a too-small sweater riding up his's part of his drum kit. :) Posted by Hello

Haiti relief

Today is my father's 76th birthday. Happy Birthday, Dad...wherever you are. (He and my stepmother left Monday for northern Washington where they planned to hook up with their traveling buddies and set out on a road trip. I imagine they're somewhere in Canada. Guess I'll find out when I call him later.)

We feel horrible for the poor residents of Florida who are bracing today for their fourth hurricane strike this season. Jeanne is a category 2 storm--let's hope she doesn't strengthen any more that.

But what's first and foremost on my mind this morning is the situation in Haiti. As devastating (and nerve-wracking) as the hurricane season has been for stateside residents, their devastation can't begin to compare to what's happened in Haiti, which was already reeling from poverty of an almost unimaginable magnitude, severe political unrest and terrible flooding just a few months ago.

I've been doing some research to see how cash donations can be made to organizations who are dealing directly with the situation. If you're wondering if cash donations are more effective than the donation or goods and supplies, please read these guidelines.

If you'd like to help, here are some organizations providing relief in Haiti:

General Board of Global Ministries - United Methodist Church
Send donations to: Hurricanes 2004-Haiti, UMCOR Advance #982410, 475 Riverside Drive, Room 330, New York, NY 10115. Checks should be made payable to UMCOR. Or donate at or by calling 1-800-554-8583.
NOTE: The gbgm website also has info on providing "flood buckets" to hurricane victims in Florida.

Catholic Relief Services
Send donations to: Dominican Republic-Haiti Flooding, Catholic Relief Services, P. O. Box 17090, Baltimore, MD 21203-7090. Or donate at the website or by calling 1-800-736-3467.

American Jewish World Service
Send donations to: Haiti/DR Flood Relief, 45 West 36th Street, 10th Floor, New York, NY 10018. Or donate at the website or by calling 1-800-889-7146.

Oxfam Canada
Send donations to: Oxfam Canada, 200-215 Spadina Avenue, Toronto, ON, M5T 2C7. Or donate at the website or by calling 1-800-466-9326.


Send donations to: Children First Internet Donation, UNICEF, 3 UN Plaza, New York, NY 10017.
NOTE: I have emailed UNICEF's Haiti office ( to inquire whether they can accept donations directly. I'll let you know what I learn. The address is: UNICEF-Haiti, P. O. Box 1363, Port-au-Prince, Haiti.

Whether or not you choose to make a donation, I would simply ask this. Just for a moment today, as you plunk down a five for your latte...or do your grocery shopping...or spend your evening out at dinner or a movie....please remember the 5,000 children living in shelters in Haiti who simply want a drink of clean water. And remember how truly blessed and lucky we are to have so much.

Friday, September 24, 2004


Fall is here? Already?

We spent this past 4th of July at a beach on the northside because the boyfriend was playing an outdoor concert there. We arrived early and made a day of it. I've never seen so many left-behind flip-flops and sandals. There were at least half a dozen just within 10 yards of where we were sitting. Boyfriend asked, "Why are you taking pictures of all those shoes?" Because surely each one has a pretty interesting story to tell...especially when I imagine the owners of those abandoned shoes traipsing home wearing just one. Posted by Hello

Wednesday, September 22, 2004

In the Land of Ashcroft

What?!?! Cat Stevens is on the government watch list?! (How did I not know this?)

Also woke up to this on the radio this morning: the government has ordered all of the airlines to turn over their passenger data from the month of June. So if you flew anywhere in June, they'll not only have the basics (name, address, etc.) but also evidently where you traveled and where and how you bought your ticket. The report said that the government's going to use this data to test a new system to track suspects on the government watch list, and that the last time they tested it they used similar data that the airlines turned it over violation of their privacy policies.

We have a dear friend who's lived in Switzerland for many years (he used to live in Berkeley) and when I recently informed him that we'll be relocating to Calfornia, he had this to say, "Arnold's California and Bushwhacked're braver than me."

Tuesday, September 21, 2004 floors and other places...

This is honor of the delightful Miss BP.

Monday, September 20, 2004

dreamy day

If I could fill this day with only people and things that delight and tickle me and stir my passion and wasn't constrained by a 24-hour limit or geography or logistics or finances, it might include the following (in no particular order)...

walking and swimming at the beach
walking through a redwood forest
writing funny emails back and forth with friends
thinking up new business ideas
going out for coffee and tea with friends
spending time with the children in my life
watching small children play at the beach
taking a road trip with no set itinerary
reading blogs
gathering together all my favorite blog sisters
attending a live music event
eating pie
being served all my meals
playing in sunshine
doing something crafty
making my friends laugh
picking blackberries
soaking in a bubble bath
getting a massage
writing in a journal
browsing in bookstores and libraries
seeing independent films
wandering the aisles of Target
going to the horse races
watching/listening to my boyfriend play the drums
sleeping in
taking pictures
staring off into space and doing nothing
eating Mexican and Thai and Hunan food
going on a picnic
sleeping under the stars with a faint train whistle in the background
listening to the radio (particularly a transistor)
remembering my Italian grandmother
sitting quietly in an empty church
spending as much time as possible outdoors
breathing the scent along a certain stretch of Hwy. 199
sleeping soundly
taking catnaps in the sun
riding a train
eating well-done French toast
walking city streets
going barefoot
drinking really strong coffee with half-n-half and a biscotti to dip
lying in a hammock
sitting around a campfire and a beach bonfire
looking through a telescope at the nighttime sky
sitting in a backyard
sleeping in a tent
collecting cool pieces of driftwood
picking shells and beach glass
wearing my red cowboy boots
wearing a tight-fitting pair of (men's) Levi's 501's
eating soft ice cream (preferably served at a drive-in)
leading a workshop
going to a drive-in movie - or better yet, showing films in the backyard, projected onto a white sheet or wall
having the companionship of a Lab
not having my quiet setting punctured by traffic noise or others' loud music or yelling
(and it goes without saying) doing much of the above in the presence of my boyfriend (I didn't add making love here, but that goes without saying) :)

And you? What would your dreamy day look like?

Sunday, September 19, 2004


I feel like we're living inside of a postcard...or maybe a snow globe, except in this case it would be a sand globe. Like we're leading a hermetically-sealed existence. Those on the outside look at where we live and say, "Oh, isn't it pretty?" Except nothing exciting ever happens to us here--nothing inspiring. Every once in a great while, we get 'shook up,' but then the sand quickly settles and we're left sitting (frozen) in our postcard setting.

Last weekend we stopped in at K-Mart to pick up a few things, and as we passed the sporting good aisles we found ourselves drawn to the shelves holding the (boxed) tents. And we started oohing and aahing over various tents. We can't wait to go camping when we get back to the States. And we're no adventuring outdoor types, but we do like the occasional camping trip. We started laughing and saying, "Screw renting a house--maybe we should just live in a tent!" :) (It really takes very little to make us happy.)

I think what we're yearning for is variety--of landscape and daily activities and social experiences and cultural stimulation. We always perk up a bit when we have visitors because we can view our setting through others' eyes, and it is a beautiful place. But complacency and boredom set in long ago, not to mention the feelings of isolation and loneliness and outsider status.

So we're ready to go. We're ready to take a hammer to this pretty souvenir sand globe we've sealed ourselves in and smash it to smithereens. Some think we're foolish to leave 'paradise'...we feel we have no choice.

Saturday, September 18, 2004


I'd been home from my errands for hours this afternoon before the boyfriend remembered to mention that he'd gotten call from a guitarist on St. John he sometimes plays with. He wanted to book the boyfriend for a gig next month...opening for Bonnie Raitt. I was like, "Yeah! Some music I actually wanna hear!" I'm a horrible music spouse--I rarely go to his gigs here. That's largely because over the years, his music career here has evolved into playing a lot of wedding receptions and corporate events and background dinner music at restaurants and the occasional jazz show. Those kinds of gigs pay better than club gigs, and there are hardly any clubs here anymore anyway. He's playing with a rock trio tonight (as he did last night). It's one of the last weekends for an infamous spot here that's popular with the boaties. I told him I'd go next Friday (his last gig there before the place gets turned into some kind of corporate tiki bar). The owner plans to auction off the memorabilia that's nailed to the walls and ceiling of the (open air) place.

I'm actually shocked that the little blues festival here managed to book Bonnie Raitt. We'll see if it really happens. It's a great setting--one of our favorite spots on the island.

I can't wait till we get back to the States so boyfriend can start playing some 'real' music again, at a level that's more closely matched to his musicianship. This has been a great break for us, but it's time to get back to civilization, culturally.

Moments ago I stumbled onto a "Soundstage" show on PBS which is Stevie Winwood in concert. I love Steve Winwood! We have a dear friend who has always reminded me of Winwood. Our friend also plays the Hammond B-3 (organ) and has the same kind of soulful vocals. They even look similar. (If anyone had told me at age nine that there were Hammond B-3's in the world, I might not have had such fierce resentment about being forced to play the organ in church. As it was, I couldn't wait to leave that shit behind.)

My brother called awhile ago. They were just pulling into their hotel in Reno. He and my sister-in-law packed up their three kids and the kids' friends and went up to see the air show tomorrow. It's an event they've never been to, which is surprising since they go to Reno...a lot. Tonight, they're leaving the kids at the hotel and going to see Robert Cray--which instantly made me think of our friend in Switzerland who was in Robert's band for a long, long time. I just realized he doesn't know yet that we're moving. Seems an email is in order.

About a week ago I finally got an email from one of our N.Y. pals. I'd just been saying to the boyfriend recently that I wondered what our friend was up to because we hadn't heard from him in awhile. Turns out he'd spent the last couple of months in L.A. editing a long-form video for Duran Duran. (Yes, they're back.) They evidently have an album coming out next month and plan to tour. I was never into them, but mention it here in the event that any of you were (or are).


"Live in your strength." -- label on Yogi Tea bag

Thursday, September 16, 2004

Jeanne, Pt. 3

Jeanne's a bitch. Our really bad weather didn't begin until after she had already crossed over Puerto Rico (killing two in the process). Yesterday we had a day filled with heavy rain showers and some (occasionally gusty) wind. But around 8:00 last night the thunderstorms, and fun, began.

I heard the loudest thunderclap of my life last night. It had to be about a 12 on a scale of 1 to 10. Jesus. We had a lot of lightning--a couple of bolts looked like they were right in front of us--and the rain switched from heavy to torrential. We'd been noshing all day, so we didn't start dinner until around 9:00. It was kind of weird to be eating dinner while watching Hurricane Ivan coverage on Larry King while experiencing the effects of the next storm in the pipeline. CNN's meterologist on-site in Mobile, AL, Rob Marciano, used to be one of our local weather guys in Portland. So we were watching CNN, but looking at an old familiar face.

I was awakened at 3:30 this morning but some particularly loud thunder, and then the rain went from torrential to...I don't know what. It sounded like some kind of celestial fire hose had been turned on. Our poor little narrow, windy, hilly island roads can't handle this much rain. As a result, we've got a lot of debris and rock slides in the roads and some of the roads are closed due to flooding. All of the government offices and schools are closed again today, as is the golf course (duh). So boyfriend's got another day off, but I have to go to work. I phoned my employer at home to warn him that I'd heard on the radio that the road he takes between his home and the office is partly closed. He said he'll take the long way around, where he's also likely to encounter flooding, but he's determined to reach the office. He told me I could come in a couple of hours late. The weather is supposed to clear by this afternoon. Of course, they said that yesterday, too. The forecasters were way off on this one--no one predicted that the worst weather would arrive long after Jeanne had passed us. And she formed very quickly. Suddenly there was a 'tropical depression 11' and the next thing we knew she was a tropical storm and headed our way. She still hasn't reached hurricane strength, but is expected to shortly.

Ivan also formed quickly. I just hope that doesn't bode badly for those who will be in Jeanne's path in the coming days.

Wednesday, September 15, 2004

Jeanne, Pt. 2

I ended up with a full day off (see below for first update). It's been raining nearly non-stop since before dawn--sheets of rain blowing from east to west. The wind hasn't been too bad--there were some pretty good gusts earlier--but the ocean is the roughest and choppiest we've ever seen it here.

We've had a very lazy day, spent dozing and reading and watching TV and DVD's. The power went off several times, but only for a minute or two. Just moments ago our landlord (upstairs) banged on the metal railing connecting our balconies (it's how he gets our attention). Turns out they hooked up their generator and it's powering our unit, too. Woo hoo!! No wonder the power kept coming right back on! :)


Tropical Storm Jeanne is passing about 17 miles south of St. Croix this morning. (We're 40 miles north of St. Croix.) As a result, pretty much everything in the USVI has shut down for the day. The golf course is of course closed, so the boyfriend's gone back to sleep. Not my office though--my boss wants us all to check in at 11:00 to see if we should come in for the afternoon. (Why, oh why, can't he just close FOR THE DAY?! Sheesh.)

The USVI and Puerto Rico were placed under a hurricane warning yesterday, but Jeanne isn't expected to reach category 1 hurricane status until later today, possibly before she reaches Puerto Rico. (Puerto Rico is 40 miles west of us.) I hate to say it, but her current track has her set for the Bahamas and (God forbid) possibly even Florida down the road.

Ironically, today is the 9th anniversary of Hurricane Marilyn which walloped the USVI, particularly St. Thomas. Marilyn destroyed or damaged eighty percent of the structures on our island. I had friends suggest that I might want to change my name when I announced I was moving here. Actually, it serves me well. When people on the phone ask how to spell my name, I always say, "Just like the hurricane." For some reason, that always elicits a laugh. I guess because everyone here remembers that Marilyn.

I just heard on the radio that sites have been set up here to collect donations for Grenada. Ivan devastated that island. I feel for the people evacuating along the Gulf Coast in preparation for his arrival.

It's a good morning to curl up with a steaming hot mug of coffee and a good book. And that's just what I'm gonna do.

I wanna know what love is...

Kat's hilarious posts about her online dating adventures have me thanking my lucky stars that I'm not single. Well, okay, technically I'm single (no marriage license in possession), but we consider ourselves married. I'm just rather averse to getting to the government involved. I mean, what business is it of theirs, anyway?

For someone who was single for so freakin' long, I really have very little dating experience. When I think of dating, I think of courting rituals: initial conversations over the phone, meeting for coffee or a drink or dinner, someone showing up on the doorstep with flowers, etc. Who the hell did that? No one I knew. We met our men in bars...and have the track records to prove it. (And to think I always wondered why it never worked out...)

We all have dating horror stories, of course. I remember my friend E. going on a blind date. The high- (okay, low-) light was when her date said over dinner, "Gee, for a Jewish girl you sure don't have much hair on your arms."

I recall standing at the bar in a club in the Haight in San Francisco waiting for my friend M. It was a weeknight and the bar area was sparsely populated. The next patron was at least six feet away. He suddenly looked over at me and said, "I wanna know what love is and I want you to show me." Even without the pot belly straining the fibers of his polyester white turtleneck and the heavy gold chain around his neck, I still wouldn't have been interested.

I once woke up a sofa my boss' living room...with one of our best clients lying next to me...a mere two hours before my performance review. (Drinking problem? What drinking problem?) Don't think THAT wasn't awkward. :) I got the raise though (gotta love the TV business).

Then there was the time a guy asked me to dance in a club in San Francisco on Valentine's Day. The second sentence out of his mouth was, "We should have children." I found him repulsive at first glance, so of course I embarked on a mad, passionate affair that lasted until he moved to another continent...with his wife...and children.

My specialty was making sure that any man I was interested in would never have the foggiest idea I was interested (so would therefore think I was a stuck-up bitch)...and instead ending up in relationships with men who were interested in me even though I wasn't remotely interested in them. My mother raised me to be polite, but I think that's taking it a bit far. I thought anyone who asked me out should be given a polite, "Yes, of course, I'd love to" even though inside I was screaming, "Not on your life, pal!"

Thankfully I met the boyfriend after I was sober. Finally, a good decision! :) It boggles my mind to think that we're coming up on 10 years together. Me, the woman who used to equate commitment with the sound of a cell door slamming. I had some wild times--and certainly some (drunken) fun--but I was ready to settle down. Boy, was I ready. So if H. thinks we're a coupla boring old farts, that's okay. I'm content to be boring these days. Dating? Drinking? Drama? Been there, done the t-shirt to prove it.

Saturday, September 11, 2004

Reelin' 'em in...

Kudos to my 6-year-old niece, C., who went fishing with her Dad (and the rest of her family) last Sunday and managed to reel in not one, but TWO, 10-lb. salmon on this river. Word has it that after a bit of struggle with the first fish, she complained to her Dad (my brother) that she was tired. He told her she could either cut her fish loose or reel it in herself--he wasn't going to do it for her. (That might sound mean, but the kids always love it after the fact when he makes them do something themselves.) He said the first fish put up quite a fight with her, but she got it in. And then went and caught a second one.

My brother and sister-in-law are hosting a salmon feed at their bar tonight. I congratulated C. on contributing to the salmon haul for the feed. I asked if her muscles were tired after all that hard work. She said, "My WRISTS were." She's one tough little cookie.

Recently she asked me on the phone, "Have you guys decided yet if you're moving to Davis or Dixon?" (The towns are next to each other.) I said, "Well, there's a cool little second grader who lives in Dixon. I'd sort of like to live near her." She seemed confused at first and then (realization dawning) asked, "Who? Me?!" and giggled. Yes you, C., and I can't wait.


Just after we visited the Catholic school to file an application for H.'s enrollment, we stopped at the public libary which is a couple of blocks from the school. We figured we might as well check it out and get library cards, since if H. attended school in the neighborhood, he'd more than likely be spending some time at the library after school while waiting for me to get off work. It was the first time we'd even been inside our tiny library downtown.

I'm typically a heavy library user, but when I first called the local library to inquire about getting a card, I was told I'd have to list two local residents as "co-signers." (What?!?) This place is the oddest mix of lawlessness (or skirting the law to operate underground) and invasiveness that I've ever experienced. Many of the local rules and regulations seem too invasive by mainland standards, so I typically just say screw it. But the memory of that call was far from my mind during our recent visit. We were there for two reasons: to get library cards and to get some materials to help H. brush up on his fundamentals in preparation for his next placement test (which he never took, of course). We got our cards and for co-signers (needed only for the adult cards), we listed each other and my employer. It's not like we're going to have any overdue books. (I'm a very conscientious library patron.)

Portland had me really spoiled with its fabulous public library system. Several years ago, the city remodeled its main library downtown, and it's lovely. It's the only library I've been to with a Starbucks inside. I know, I was originally appalled at the idea, too. But once you get used to strolling around the library on a dark, rainy afternoon with a steaming hot latte in your hand, well, it's all good. The main library had express checkout machines where you could scan the books yourself and be on your merry way with your printed receipt.

The library here is a throwback. They do have their catalog computerized and there are a handful of computers available for patron use. But there's no computer-generated receipt. They date-stamp the checkout card inside the book the old-fashioned way. It's been a long time since I've had my library books checked out that way, and it brought back some memories.

I went to a Catholic elementary school--eight long years of being taught by nuns. Truthfully, it was a great experience, even though I hated it at the time. :) At the end of the school year, the nun would give us a mimeographed handout (yes, youngsters, this was pre-copiers) with a picture or drawing on it. It might be someone holding a large bunch of balloons or an apple tree laden with tons of apples. That handout was supposed to motivate us to read over the summer. And what do you know? It did. It seems comical to me now, because it was all done on the honor system. But we were such little goody-goodies that I suppose it wouldn't have occurred to most of us to cheat. (When you're forced to go to confession once a week, the idea of confessing to cheating doesn't seem appealing.) The idea was to color in one of the balloons or apples every time you finished reading a book. I don't remember even having to list the titles. We just turned in our handouts at the beginning of the next year and whoever had read the most books got a prize.

My cousin D. and I were always the smartest kids in our class. I'm not bragging, just letting you know that the nuns at our school didn't believe in letting kids skip grades, so we were usually pretty bored. But D. was actually a good student. She probably comprehended what she read. I had virtually no study skills, nor did I want any (since I hated school). I would just skim the books and materials enough to glean whatever I thought might pop up on a test...and then promptly forget most of it. So I knew at the beginning of each summer that D. would be my only competition for that book-reading prize. But I not only didn't possess any study skills, I was also severely lacking in discipline. I'd start off the summer feeling all gung-ho about reading, but would eventually lose interest and figure she might read more anyway, so why bother? And honestly, I didn't give a rat's ass about reading. In fact, I hated reading until I was in the my 30's. It was really all about the prize (and about beating D.), but I just didn't want it enough to have to do the work to get it. (And I may have even won one or two.) I can't recall now what any of the prizes were, but I'm sure they'd seem pathetic by today's standards. I also can't recall any of the books I read over any of those summers. (Seriously, there was only negligible comprehension going on.) But I do recall this...

Walking to the library on sunny, windy summer days (the wind always blew--it was a coastal town) and spending a lot of time dawdling among the stacks. It took decades for my love of reading to catch up with my love of libraries. I always loved being among the books--I just had to get to a place in my head (and heart) where I could quiet my mind enough to actually allow myself to escape into them. And now reading is one of my primary releases and escapes. I have fond memories of standing at the checkout counter while the librarian date-stamped those manila cards glued inside the books, and of walking home through the ball field with an armful of books.

I went to my local library on my lunch hour the other day. I returned most of the books we had checked out a couple of weeks ago, and then I spent some time doing something that used to be one of my favorite things to do during my Portland years--walking among the stacks with my head turned sideways, reading titles and looking for something that might catch my eye. Ours is a very small library, so they don't have much to choose from, but I did find a few things. And as I stood at the counter, I felt the same satisfaction I felt all those decades ago when the librarian date-stamped the checkout cards in the books. I gathered up my finds, put them in my straw tote, walked downstairs and out into the hot summer afternoon. It was like I was ten again...but this time, I know how to enjoy it.
This image is for Kat. (We really will be drinkin' margaritas by the sea it!) :)

At Bolongo Bay here, there's a palm-tree studded beach lined with bright yellow chaises and dotted with little wooden drink stands topped by these thatched umbrellas. This was taken a couple of weeks ago as I lounged on one of those chaises...and thought what a lucky (and loved) girl I am. Posted by Hello

Friday, September 10, 2004


I've been a lazy Gmail-er lately...but I still have invitations left. Want a Gmail account? Email me...address is in the profile section.

Thursday, September 09, 2004


I'm sure by now you've heard about the devastation that Hurricane Ivan left behind after its direct hit on Grenada on Tuesday. It's heartbreaking. Ninety percent of the island's structures were damaged...all communications were completely knocked out...its 17th century prison was destroyed, setting the prisoners loose...there's been rampant looting...and at least 12 or 15 have died because of the storm (although officials there expect that number to rise). Ivan also caused damage on St. Lucia, Barbados and St. Vincent and the Grenadines. But Grenada felt the full force of Ivan's fury. And now he's bearing down on Jamaica...then Cuba...and then possibly Florida (again).

This is our fifth hurricane season here and this has been the scariest one thus far. We've been very fortunate here. We're sending our thoughts and prayers to our Caribbean neighbors who have suffered this hurricane season...and those who may still take severe hits. And, of course, to the Floridians. How much can poor Florida take?


Jesus, I'm tired. My body is seriously craving some (previously lost) sleep. And my dreams. Good god. I've always had a very active dream life, but the last few's like I'm cramming about three nights worth of dreams into one. Last night I dreamed that I fell asleep on our airport runway...and after a couple of planes flew over me to land, they closed the runway...because I was so sound asleep they couldn't wake me.

Boyfriend has had gigs six out of the last eight nights. I've been knocked out by the time he gets home every night, and they haven't been particularly late gigs. I haven't even heard him come in--I sort of wake at some point, see he's home, look at the clock and realize he's been home for awhile.

I'm a chronic insomniac, but I have the kind of insomnia where I have no trouble falling asleep...I have trouble staying asleep. I wake in the middle of the night, get up for a few hours and then typically get sleepy right before the alarm is set to go off. This has been going on for at least, oh, I don't know...40 years? But in the last year or so, I've stopped even going back to bed. Most nights lately I wake at 3 or 4 am...and just stay up. My job already bores me to tears, so you can imagine how fun it is to get through a day there when I'm struggling to keep my eyes open most afternoons. Here's the real problem: I'm not used to working these kinds of hours...for this long a period...without a break. I've been doing it (the job) for 3-1/2 years...and this accumulated sleep deprivation is kicking my ass. It occurred to me the other day that it's been since the late 80's since I worked these kinds of hours for any length of time...and even then I bailed out after a year-and-a-half. In the TV biz, I worked later hours (on both ends). That's why I purposely temped for five years in Portland (and had myself a cool little gig going with a couple of corporations there). I could work for awhile (some of it was project work, with a specific end date)...and then take some time (a month or two) off. And I'd do my best to get my body into some sort of natural sleep rhythm during the off times. For the most part, I haven't been able to do that during my vacation breaks at this job...because we're always doing something during our vacation time. And a week or 10 days simply isn't enough time for my body to get back to a natural rhythm.

But I'm doing some world-class sleeping since H. left. Maybe my body is allowing me some super-hard sleep just in time to gear up for the next phase: preparing to move...and start a brand-new life! And lord knows, a girl needs to be rested for that.

Monday, September 06, 2004


Today is the one-year anniversary of Island Fever. Actually, that’s not literally correct, since I began the blog on September 1. But I think of Labor Day as the anniversary, since it was last Labor Day that I was lolling on the love seat in the most bored fashion, looked across the room at the boyfriend and said, “I think I’ll start a blog.” What astounds me now is that I’m not even sure how I knew how to do that, since I barely even knew what a blog was. I must have read an article on Blogger somewhere, because I wasn‘t a reader of other blogs. The only blog I’d read up to that point was Kevin Sites’ that he kept briefly during the Iraq War, until CNN made him take it down.

What a gift this blog has been for me during a period of my life when I’ve felt so isolated. And what an unusual, but glorious, phenomenon this whole blogging thing is--to sometimes feel safer to reveal my feelings in such a public forum than to have a conversation with an old (pre-blogging) friend. The only other place I’ve found a similar sense of community was in a 12-step program--because it really does feel like we have each other’s backs, so to speak. There seems to be an inherent sense of trust between bloggers (and I use the term to include journalers, diarists, etc. since I hardly keep a true blog) that I find to be remarkable. And the support…good god, the support I’ve received from those of you who communicate with me via your comments and emails. It’s meant more to me than my feeble words can convey right now.

So this is just to say thank you to those of you who have entered my life via this portal. It’s hard for me to remember now what my life was like pre-blog…oh yeah, really isolating (on my little rock in the ocean). You’ve helped me to replace my Island Fever with blogfever…and I couldn’t be happier about it. Posted by Hello

Wednesday, September 01, 2004


Bye, buddy. See you in California. Posted by Hello

Frances, Pt. III

St. Thomas battened down the hatches yesterday in anticipation of tropical storm-force winds expected as Frances passed to the north of us. What we got instead was some wave action, including some tiny ones at our neighborhood beach (which usually resembles a turquoise bath). This is H. and me yesterday...right before he broke out his boogie board.

On a serious note, please send your thoughts and prayers to those who are in the path of Hurricane Frances. She's an intense and scary storm. Posted by Hello