Posts Tagged ‘harborside bistro’

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And your very flesh shall be a great poem.

April 20, 2008

here is something i’ve been thinking over for a while:

compliments on someone’s physical features.

maybe this has only recently come to mind because this has only recently happened in my life.

example:

“you have very pretty freckles” or….

“your eyes are very blue” or, stranger yet
“wow. you are very beautiful.”

here is what i find strange about these things:

it’s not like i did any of this myself. i didn’t make my eyes this color. these freckles have stayed in their respectful, rightful places since i’ve had skin that wasn’t brand-new. and beautiful? that’s just symetrical features, genetics and knowing what to do to make those things work together.

so. i think this whole concept of beauty if ridiculous. it’s really more like luck.

and not talent at all.

and it’s misleading.

example:

old man: “ma’am, i was very displeased with your service today.”

me: “um, sorry?”

old man: “blahblah geriatric type complaints about the good-old-days”

and then as i walk away, to his wife….

“That is the sort of girl who has gotten by her whole life with her looks. You can just tell.”

…no further questions, your honor.

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father up above, why all this hatred?

March 24, 2008

this is a holiday. a holy day. to celebrate an event that may or may have happened, but that many millions of people throughout history have staked their lives upon.

maybe it was a miracle, maybe it’s an old wives tale that somehow caught on.

and i may have only ever sat through one church service, but i know with every cell in my body that:

1.) God doesn’t see the connection between drinking before noon, eating chocolate bunnies and wearing $400 heels on a Sunday morning and his rise from the earth, either.

2.) Rabbits don’t lay eggs.

3.) “He Is Risen” is a poorly constructed sentence for all intents and purposes, save for the fact that because most English speakers would be ok with this clear mixing of tenses, linguists would have to accept it as a grammatical statement.

4.) God wants you to treat your waitress as if she really were a human. That’s kinda what he’s all about. That whole compassion, do-unto-others malarkey.

5.) God also wants you (if you’re going to celebrate his son’s return to the waking world) to stay home with your family on Easter, so that others can enjoy the same experience (see above, about the treat-thy-neighbor thing.) If no one got all spiffed up to go eat $20 eggs, then no one would have to spend the day serving on them, thus missing a gentle afternoon in reflection with their loved ones (surrogate parents included, beautiful warrens of my heart.) And parents would be forced to make conversation with their children, instead of chiding them for misbehaving in a restaurant.

So today we will drink this wine and muse about a pretty radical guy in the cradle of civilization.

And we will also think about our families, both the living and the dead,  because, regardless of who your savior is, family is it.

And try to ignore all of the things that people do in the name of salvation.
Hope everyone had someone to hug today.

xoxo me.

p.s. today one of the chefs at work was making small talk and he asked me why i was in bellingham (practically no one is actually local- the city is full of nomads) and if my family was up here, or “just me.” and i said “no, just me” and it sounded so lonely i almost cried.

p.s.s. while i was writing this, i remembered the time when i was 14 or so, on the night before Easter. and I asked her what we were doing the next day. And she responded that we were going to the grandparents and that “your aunt will probably be all dressed up, so let’s look like shit.”

that one did make me cry.

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and we all sang hallelujah.

February 29, 2008

now, i work in a fancy restaurant in a fancy hotel on the bay.

it has very large windows, and the view is hard not to be distracted by.

i dress all in black and smile a lot and do my best to strut with an armload of plates covered with bits of Blackened Market Fresh Chilean Sea Bass and Beef Bouillabes with scallops.

the restaurant is owned by a hulking man with a mysterious Eastern European accent.

people drink bottles of wine that are older than me, and worth more, too.

that’s pretty much my life these days.

and KUGS. KUGS remains the coolest part about me.

music is in my head all the time.

it’s kind of nice.

xoxo me

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take these sunken eyes and learn to see.

February 24, 2008

i’m crawling out of my skin.

i hate staying in my house this long.

i really need to be out and moving and vibrating.

this is driving me crazy.

there is music by the bay.

the city is out there, moving and vibrating.

and i’m on a folded out couch.

watching southpark.

with the dog.

and some cream of wheat.

fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck.

oh.

i got a job at a fancy hotel resaurant.

naturally, this means i have to take myself shopping tomorrow.

hurray.

…..i think they call this “mania”