Knotty Thoughts

thinking under the influence

Let’s get baked! January 17, 2012

Filed under: fashion,pets,Uncategorized — knottythoughts @ 5:23 am
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In my home, animals outnumber humans.  Since my last post, the habitat has changed and the creatures have increased.
A shoulder cat named Darbi joined us over a year ago and a trash dog named Emma was introduced at the peak of summer.
We are surrounded!  At the very least we can all pile together for warmth.

Emma and Lindsi

Any moments that place me within an arms length of all the furry creatures at once are especially noteworthy.

More than one year ago my brain was vacuumed sealed.  Recently it’s been thawed, re-introduced to fresh air and permitted to stew in it’s own juices.  I am again seeing through the muck of every day work and routine, but this time without completely halting any productivity and still chugging toward the vaguest of goals.  I must say, I did miss the keeping of odd hours.  Consistent sleep always seems to distract me from the most succulent thoughts and activities.  There is no need to fret, my restlessness has returned!  One very large step in the right direction began two or so weeks ago with the half drunken promise between myself and a very good friend; typically grand plans with branches of possibility shooting dangerously in every direction.  The thing that made it different was the follow-through.  That is to say, we actually followed through.  An absolutely rare (if not nearly extinct!) occurrence in my shared life with others.  If we did even a tenth of the things we discussed…

We joined forces with this basic objective: Bake our faces off!
With our adventure off to a not-so-surprising late start, the first leg of our plan began: the gathering of supplies.

It is difficult for me to shop with other people, whether I’m at the grocery store, fabric and crafts, thrift store or anywhere!  This is because I get excited.  Very fucking excited.  Things and colors and ideas swirl about my head in a joyful delusion any time I am exposed to many items at once.  Match this overwhelming amusement with my scatter-brained judgement and you get a lot of strange grunting sounds, clapping, gasping and jumping up and down.  A lot of cursing too.  Plus I have to touch everything, I’m like a four-year-old (a four-year-old muttering FUCK out of excitement and subsequently spending all my tip money).

However, on this day my shopping partner was Laura.  With her I don’t feel rushed and my general sense of being overwhelmed is accented with her equally childlike amazement and delight at being surrounded by so many options.  This being said, we are still a spectacle of oddity.  One giant and one half-ling skipping about wildly, communicating perfectly with a series of high pitched sounds and clicks.  I wont venture too far into the details, just know that our three stops were a perfect mess.  The bulk foods section made an especially strong impression on me.  For the first time in the my life, under the valuable guidance of Laura’s experience and knowledge, I would have a kitchen filled with all the basic baking supplies needed to fuel many a late-night, green-induced foray into a new recipe.  I’d say we got more than enough to start us off.

The rest of the event was a whirlwind of creation!  We set out to make several specific items.  A 7-up cake (with green butter), Nanaimo Bars (a Canadian favourite), Madeleine cookies/cupcakes, Sourdough bread (in the bread maker) and apple bread.  The kitchen ended up completely trashed and all the counters covered in more treats than we knew what to do with.

The Nanaimos are a sweet I’m very fond of.  A tasty no bake, triple layered bar that just requires a little patience.  This was my first attempt at making them.  If I remember correctly, while growing up in southern British Columbia my mother made them with mint in the top layer of chocolate.  This is either true, or just something I want to be true because minty-chocolate goodies are magnificent!  Unfortunately on this day I had no mint in my kitchen so I attempted to capture it’s sense by dying the middle cream layer of the nanaimos green and by also crushing up two candy canes I found and incorporating them into the top chocolate layer.  I don’t think the canes were enough to really add flavor, but they sure looked excellent!

The night spun by in a sort of lovely exhaustion.
Creation is something that I feel should be respected deeply by all.  Whether it’s art, music, food, words (or socks woven from cat hair) it’s simply incredible!  Of course, the individual attached the hands of creation should be especially grateful.


[green butter]

And remember kids: always buy bulk!

 

nobody has to stay April 8, 2010

[Tuesday, April 6]
Freshly showered, writing friendly lyrics on giveaway cigarettes. There is something special about today.

My brain and I have decided to make peace, considering we have to spend so much god damn time together. Nothing has to be hard anymore. The cold wind doesn’t have to be uncomfortable, getting up early can be fun, being alone is a blessing. So much is beautiful.

I understand now that happiness is relative; it has to be, or I’m fucked. I’m still hoping to find a better adapted wet stone for my creative edge but I feel it’s only days, if not hours, beyond my reach. As if time and effort are parallel, but then maybe effort is the downside in that instance. I’ll ease up today and find out.

The air currents were restless outdoors so I dampened my little mohawk, misted it with hair spray and let the wind style it at will.
An overactive imagination engorged by the early morning snappers my lungs depend on often cause scenarios to leap through my brain.

Example: While sitting on the bus I noticed an older Japanese man eying the ‘anti-swastika’ patch I have sewn to the right shoulder of my survival jacket. My buddy Mike made if for me in a patch swap (I made him a patch that screamed Steggo! Steggo! I love you!) almost two years back. He said something to his wife and continued on in ordinary silence, but that’s not what happened in my head. I envisioned him looking at me with eyes yearning for understanding from a detached generation and saying “My country may have allied with the Nazis, but I have not.” to which my hypothetical self replied “My country may have been okay with the atomic bomb but I am not.” a handshake ensues and peaceful balance gaps a generation. Haha!
That’s a condensed moment inside my head.

Too much is always going on. The same bus ride only proved this further when I found myself watching the scrunched up face of a 3-year-old as she peered around the vehicle with unblinkingly wide eyes just feigning to soak in every last drop of visual information and the bits of mental data and analysis that must go along with them. I just wanted to send her a message via wave lengths to let her know that I understand the pressure that must be building up in her gray tissues, I full comprehend the frustration of attempting to process each and every pixel of colour, sound, action, scent and movement that assails the senses. I also know the love and passion and excitement and BLISS that come along with it. Fuck! What fortune,  I would have it no other way.

It’s so hard to wanna fight when you wish you were never born.
(Ya Can’t Go Home- Leftover Crack.)

On the more normal human end of things…

At work, the prom season is well on it’s way and I always find it entrancing to study the various dynamics between mothers/daughters/sisters/grandmothers.

One of my favorite parts of my normal day is the twenty minutes after closing the shop where I wait for the bus. Hook my ipod up to the speaker system, lock the doors and DANCE.

Sometimes I get distracted. Miss the bus. Wait for the next one. Play with self timer, windy outside. Eats my cigarettes, breaks my camera (UGH!). Wind and spit do not mix.

Subtle vandalism, justifiably harmless.

[Wednesday, April 7]
Another early morning, a strong connection with an old friend. Denial and honesty all rolled into one big fat blob mixed with a little mischievous fun and wholly inappropriate prospects. My guilt hasn’t spoken up even a little and your medicated persistence has never made me value my tenancies toward a punk rock rebellion more. Love you, though, and we’re both well aware that a long battle of bullshit and wits has just begun.

Mid day was a blur of regularity and sugar comas interspersed with obsessive minutes of repetitive piano playing and singing.

The night came to an end with heels and pretzels in the back of a truck on a highway screaming songs at the top of my lungs while drivers passing by could only assume my tequila intake had already begun. A drag show of the finest quality and a classy (sarcasm) lip locking, hip grabbing, few minutes with a lovely woman. Spending a little time with the few people I would truly consider to be friends, wholly accepting of each strange little fiber in my body was also really nice. They live in the same apartment complex as me these days, we can literally chat from our balconies.

As much as I like to avoid materialism, there are certain objects that I have a passionately emotional connection to. Oh, the sentiment. My cat needs to go on a diet.

 

resorting to resin hits December 6, 2009

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At times, I wonder.
This afternoon was one of those times; using a dirty towel to soak up the urine left on the bathroom floor by the other. My poor socks, at least they were on sale. I wonder if this is right, if this is okay, how long can I continue. I’m only twenty years old, I cannot even legally be an alcoholic yet. This hasn’t managed to dissuade me. [sigh]

The theme of last night’s party was the 1980s. The mix was great, the spandex was better; it was a fun group of people. Where we live (in an apartment) the neighbor’s don’t call the cops. I hate this place some times, but I do not want to leave. I may have no choice, though, if I don’t find a job soon. Very soon, T minus 3 weeks, MAX. I should be trying harder. Part of me wants to start over, be alone, snow and smallness. Then again, NO.

At last resort, the place I’d have to move to is Sandpoint, Idaho. I grew up there. It is a stunning place; the lake, the mountain. I could snowboard all winter, boat all summer. My family is close to there, but not my friends. I don’t even think I could get decent internet. I’m terrified that a move there will leave me feeling depressed and isolated. In the same way though, I would have a nice house to myself,  I could focus on building my character. I could go mountain biking, run the trails everyday, adventures in the woods. But I wouldn’t.  My mind keeps swaying. I am frustrated beyond belief with the pressure of decision and time is running out.

 

I’ve been sewing a lot, at least.

Let’s go on an adventure, shall we?

I’ll leave you on a note of slight sadness.
Though, the resin collected was impressive:

 

If I had a doomsday machine… December 3, 2009

The things that happened last night somehow managed to skew my immediate perception of the world and I do not like it. In the same moments I realized I need to return to my double daily doses of yoga. A deep sigh here. A distraction there.

When I woke up this morning my roommates were watching Doctor Strangelove. It made me giggle internally because the last time I saw the film I was living in Spokane, it was a Sunday afternoon. My old guitarist and I were sitting on the front porch of my broken down apartment building practicing our punk set acoustic style because the rest of the band was out of town. A neighbour came walking across the street without any shoes and we felt sure he would be coming to tell us to keep it down. Instead he told us that he had a mini studio in his apartment and invited us over. Turns out he did music scores for IFC and upon walking in we saw a beautiful set up of iMacs and audio equipment. We played a few of our songs for him, he was encouraging and told us that back in the 70s he was really into the then new onset of this thing called punk rock. He couldn’t have been more right; when getting up to use the bathroom (having to to avoid several cats) I noticed a gold record on the wall. To my great surprise, it was for an album in 1978 by The Skulls. I immediately questioned his possession of it, and to the great delight we found that we had just smoked [out of a small bronzed Coca Cola bubbler] with a teeny tiny little piece of history. Then we watched Doctor Strangelove and walked back home in a haze induced by both drugs and awe. I had completely forgotten about this experience until now. Wow.

 

I’ll be the first to admit it: I am a crazy cat lady. The big orange one is Sean Connery.
There are two others; MacGruber and Isotope. At some point last night I awoke to find two cats silhouetted in the window. Isotope was licking Sean Connery’s face.

Yesterday the weather was beautifully deceptive. Sunny and bright and glowing from my window; when I stepped outside my face froze instantly. Bicycling in that temperature was wholly uncomfortable even with the layers I was wearing. The majority of my day was spent standing in lines. At the Department of Licensing, at the bank, at the cable company, at the court house. Lines are terrible for one main reason; everyone in a line is in a bad mood. Impatient, angry, annoyed- it’s pure negative vibes! A very draining way to exist on a Wednesday afternoon.

The light part of the day was ending and I quite randomly decided to do something uncharacteristic.

My stomach, for unknown reasons, is uneasy.
Today I feel human.