LA stands for "lackadaisically annoyed"

Current mood:ridiculously elated

my favorite part of the trip to LA that i took this past week was walking back into disneyland after screaming our throats out at the tower of terror across the way, in time to see five employees standing around one of the light-up signs that are placed around the park so that people can find their way when the fireworks are exploding in darkness all around. they were all dressed differently, from different "lands" around the park, and staring up at what must have been a new sign with expectant looks. then one of them flicked the switch and the light in the sign went on, shining bright and clear the way to "all others lands." they all moaned, and one said, loudly, "way to go, spellcheck." my sister and i just happened to be passing by in time to fully enjoy the display of employee disgust from the mouths of pirates and frontiersmen and swiss maids and whatever the folks in critter country are supposed to be. it was probably the most magical moment i've ever had there.

but i realized how much i love san francisco when, getting out of the bart station, it was still unseasonably hot, but the breeze was cooling and i could see the fog moving in. a man hit on me in spanish, and 24th st. seemed even dirtier than usual. it was like a big sloppy kiss from home.
by the time i got to the apartment, and crawled out on our roof to get some air, bernal hill was completely enswathed in menacing grey. it was still warm out, to a degree, but i could breathe and i wasn't constantly wondering when my skin was going to burst into flame.

and the boy who had stayed in my bed while i was gone had made lots of food, and anandi gave me a tarot reading and comix to read, and annie came over to drink chocolate soy milk and talk like she must be the most loyal person to be placed on this green earth. and we watched the x-files until my babbling drowned all out. and it was all going to be ok.

southern california seems, for many different reasons, to make me feel all itchy. maybe it's the cars, or the heat, or the people. so many people. or maybe its memories of being stuck there, dead motorcycles and that feeling of trapped, when i was trying to move here. maybe we just can't be friends right now, southern california and i. but i'm glad that i went. i'm glad i got to see my old friend and wish my sister a happy birthday. and i'm glad i got to get out of here for a few days.

it made me realize how much i love my home.

Currently listening: Doolittle By Pixies Release date: 20 May, 2003

where i get it from (some history)

Current mood:mostly foggy

i've been having trouble getting the recorder to work. or rather, i have been having trouble with the rube goldberg-ian system of pulleys and cables necessary to hook my microcassette recorder into my four track. otherwise, i would be able to send the interviews we recorded in poland off to my mom for proper translation. instead, i am relying on memory of my mom's on-the-fly translations during our trip. but i've been telling this story a lot lately, which prompts me to get some version of it into words, where others can see.

my grandfather was 17 or 18 when he was wounded in world war I. he was living in the russian-occupied area of what used to be poland (at the time, and until the first world war ended, poland had been divided and occupied by russia, prussia and austria. it ceased to exist.) and appears to have been drafted into the russian army. the bullet went into his head and should have killed him. here he is recovering in the hospital.



his miraculous survival prompted his mother, my great grandmother, to come to the conclusion that god spared him for a reason, that he had a higher calling. she told him that he was going to become a priest. it appears that he did not argue.

things get a little fuzzy here. my grandmother used to tell my mother that jakub was left with a tremor from the bullet in his head, a tremor that interfered with his ability to hold the chalice with the blood of jesus in it. so, no roman catholic priesthood for him. but what we were able to piece together told a slightly different story.

according to a couple of different sources, it appears to have taken him longer than the rest of his class to get through seminary, which probably had something to do with his injury. my grandfather was days away from being ordained as a roman catholic priest when a friend made a comment to him about how exciting it was, something along the lines of "hey! you're going to be a priest!"

apparently my grandfather said the equivalent of "it's about fucking time." his friend reported him, which prompted the church to investigate him for pride, to determine whether or not he was fit to be a man of the cloth.

well, that pissed him off, which is not surprising, since we are still unsure whether or not he wanted to be a priest, or if it was all his mother's doing. so, he stormed off and joined the polish national catholic church, a then-illegal spinoff of the roman catholic church that refused to recognize the authority of the pope, thought that priests should be allowed to marry, and thought that the church should be about the people, going so far as to insist that sermons be given in the language of the residents of any given area, instead of latin. he was fined for giving funeral services and fined for visiting the sick and lived in a decaying house with a crooked roof.

this story prompted my mother to look at me and say, "see, you get your stubbornness from your grandfather ... and your grandmother ... and your great uncles ... and your great aunts and your uncles and your mother."

i guess it explains a lot.

Currently listening: The Best of Nick Cave & the Bad Seeds By Nick Cave Release date: 23 October, 2001

murder of crows

Current mood:strange

wikipedia says that, aside from "literary and fanciful usage," it is universally accepted that a group of crows is called a flock. meaning, i suppose, that only high-falutin' jerks use the word "murder." which is a shame, because it has to be the best phrase ever. a murder of crows.

i have crows heavy on the brain these days. of course, they were everywhere in poland. they watched my trains go by, circled over the fields i wandered through, made raucous noise from the trees of the cities. i am romantically misguided enough to take the constant presence of such a common bird as a good omen of sorts. especially when i started reading legends of poland and found that before converting to christianity in 900-something AD, the people followed a pagan religion that worshipped the rivers and the birds, particularly ravens and crows. hot damn.

and there are more words. i have to get some things down about my trip, have to relate how it turned my head around in the best possible way. but i am still waiting for the words to form. they have a long incubation process, these words.

in the meantime i ponder crows ... and how carrion birds can be gods.

Currently listening: C is for Cookie By Sesame Street Release date: 19 September, 1995

do widzenia, moja milosc

Current mood:hopeful and expectant

i'm working my last day of work before i leave on wednesday. i'm excited and terrified and tired. i'm also remembering how planes make me feel claustrophobic. stuck in a metal box, unable to open a window. uck.

this is the man i am going to find out about. that is my mom at three years old. she looks as tough as she is. my uncle jacob, next to her, is dead now. so are my grandparents. i never knew my grandfather. in all the pictures i've seen of him he looks mean.

wish me luck. blow me kisses. buy me a drink when i get back in may.

Currently reading: Foucault's Pendulum By Umberto Eco Release date: 13 November, 1990

Moja glowa zadaje ból. Zadna krowa, sprawiac przyjemnosc

Current mood:strangely confusedd

two weeks from tomorrow i will be in warsaw, watching polish children do whatever polish children do on easter sunday. i really have very little clue what easter in poland consists of. i know it has something to do with eggs, gaily painted eggs. and church, lots and lots of church. i know what my endless parade of expatriate great aunts used to do on easter, and that mainly consisted of eating kielbasa with sharp knives. and all sorts of beef concoctions. and drinking wine. lots of wine.

which brings me to the reason for the whole trip: finding out where the fuck my family's been and what they're all about. primarily, my mom wants to find out more about her father, who was an interesting guy, to say the least. it also brings me to the greatest fear i have, as well, that lonely planet's assertion that vegetarians will not starve in poland is horribly, terribly wrong, and that i will find nothing to eat but the meals that plagued my childhood. shredded beef and sausage. yikes. at least i hear polish beer is strong. whether or not it's yummy is another matter. i am determined to not spend the ENTIRE time i'm there figuring that out. maybe most of it, though. mmm, foreign beer.

i guess i will know all about the food and beer and easter thing soon enough.

my mom and i have been planning this trip for about 5 years. maybe more, if you count the fact that my aunt sophie was supposed to bring me the summer after my junior year in high school. as usual, sophie didn't carry through on her promises. sigh. which is probably a good thing, since all she talked about was how i should be looking for a nice boy. i think she wanted to take me to hook me up with a future husband of her choosing. so, no loss.

now i get to go and have fun with my mom and offend people all over the country with my lack of a grasp of the language. every few years i start to try to learn some polish, only to ... well, stop trying. pretty quick. i'm doing better this time. over three weeks rushing around the country, and i'll probably be confused to hear english when i get back. wahoo.

(oh, yeah, and the first sentence in the subject, according to www.poltran.com, translates word for word to "My head assigns pain." oddly fitting.)

Currently reading: Teach Yourself Polish Complete Course (book + CD pack) (Teach Yourself . . . Complete Courses) By Nigel Gotteri Release date: 21 April, 2004

"there's a lack of sweetness in my life ..."

Current mood:fanky

it's one of those days where the air seems thick with hurt, upset runs like rivers through the lives of everyone i come in contact with. disconnected beings seem to be experiencing the same sort of heartbreak, and i am wearing the most annoying pants. not only this, but i can't seem to be able to type. the fingers are rebelling against the brain, heading off in their own directions, creating words that don't exist. what is going on here? what can i do to make everything better? can i?

shit.

but listening to "government center" at a very very loud volume in a closed and quiet photo lab helps. if only a little.

Currently listening: Modern Lovers By The Modern Lovers Release date: 05 August, 2003

hurty brain, glue-covered pants

ow ow ow. i want nothing more than to sleep all night and the next day and the next, to get rid of this headache and the slight pain in my lungs that is a harbinger of nothing good. i feel like i have been fighting off a cold for the past two years.

what's all the whining, you say? i'm currently in the thick of attempting to get things done that should have been done years ago, and to make a bunch of shirts and zines and everything else for the SF anarchist bookfair, occuring 6 days from now in the Sf county fair bldg, in golden gate park. every year i inflict this stupid event upon myself, using it as the only deadline i seem capable of respecting, ensuring that everything i've planned to do all year needs to be completed NOW. i don't know why. it's not like i am a big supporter of the reality behind a bookfair that is essentially a capitalist fun-fest. ok, maybe that sounds harsh, but i have watched the price of a table go up, seen the emphasis shift from educating to selling, sold less writing and more patches and other fashion accessories, each year swearing that it will be my last. sigh

and this year i will be without my annie danger, my tabling partner of so many years. she needed to get out of town, and i support that need. but, christ, things will be sad without her. who will yell and make me stressed and make me snap, only to make me appreciate every minute of it, once the initial shock wears off and the beer kicks in. oh, i don't even need beer to appreciate her. we dedicate ourselves, every year, to putting the "fun" in "funarchy," startling the stodgy old men that abound, giving illicit haircuts behind makeshift curtains, considering our table an oasis in the crazy crazy sea. i don't know what i will do without her.

so, if you're reading this, and you're in the area, and it's before march 18th, 2006, 10-6 pm, i would love it if you would stop by and console me. tell me a joke and pat me on the back. if you're reading this after, i bet you there will always be next year ...
sigh.

Currently listening: Solex Vs. The Hitmeister By Solex Release date: 10 March, 1998