I’m sitting in my local just having a drink or five. It’s Friday night, it’s payday, my buddy’s pouring stiffies (you know…Mike…of previous post fame). The jukebox is playing the good, the bad, & lots of the ugly…everything from Nine Inch Nails to Hank III to Journey to Gogol Bordello…it’s a Good Thing. Very.

So, pardon me if I don’t really have an earth shattering rant or a sage blurb to dispense to the masses.


I deserve it! I preserve it! (Okok…no B-52’s references, I gotcha.) Damn it if I haven’t earned this cocktail and all it’s cousins!

I’m wishing y’all a Happy Fucking Friday and go tear some shit up with people you love. RIGHT NOW! Do it. Cuz if they’re really friends worth half their salt… they miss you. Even if you saw them yesterday.

Good-God, its nice to have a neighborhood bar that’s like your living room. Say what you want about the triteness of that ’80s television sitcom Cheers and the whole “where everybody knows your name” schitck but it’s fucking hella nice to just be able to walk in whenever with out worrying about what you’re wearing, who’s there or not, and know that the bartender not only knows you for real, but even has your phone number….and no, not like how your thinking! Get your mind out of the gutter! I’ve never been a bartender groupie.

I’m talking about shit like…

When baseball season hits Seattle and Mr. Rockstar and I go to a game with friends Mike & Sarah and Meg & Jim and Cory & Matt…and yes, Mike’s the bartender at my neighborhood bar. Or, I have a Girls’ Night Out with dinner at a nice restaurant and drinks & dancing at a club afterwards with five-to-eight other women friends…and yes, Michelle works at my neighborhood bar.

Or, when my wallet falls out of my handbag (it’s been known to do this more than once…I’m really bad about zipping that damn bag shut), or maybe I just forgot it on the bar, and I get a call at 1:00 am from my friend Sharon…who, yes, is the bartender…to let me know it’s behind the counter at the cash register and I can pick it up whenever. It’s safe. Yeah. That’s really cool.

We all need a place where, when you walk in, the bartender is happy to see you and, almost every time  you visit, gives you $5.00 to put music on the jukebox because she knows that, even if she isn’t familiar with all the music you’ll play, it’ll be something she will like and she’ll be asking you every few songs,”Who IS this? What song? Cool!” The Mecca Cafe, 2010. Photo by entOptic

A place where I can type this on my iPhone while sitting at the bar & nobody thinks I’m being antisocial because they know that in five seconds I’m more likely to be up & bopping about to some crazy tune I just put on the jukebox or that I’ll be fighting to get a word in edgewise with somebody sitting or standing next to me bending my ear.

This is my living room, damn it. And yes, I do use the TV remote here.

So, move over outta my seat, Sugar. It fits my ass bettah. 😉

© 2011 D. Kessler

I must tell you, I have an issue with the whole “New Year” thing. I’m not a bah-humbug type…Oh god, really, I’m not.  I love the Holidays, I love the special-ness and of course,  any reason for a party!  Almost every year, I make some sort of plans for New Year’s Eve, and I very genuinely mean to follow through.  However, often after doing so, I don’t feel like it when the night arrives.  Even when I do follow through with the exuberant festivities I’ve eagerly planned,  I feel…tainted.  A sour taste in my proverbial mouth.  I lack-luster anticlimactic *poof!*…the whole thing just seems all so forced to me and I feel cheap and used and like a user.

There’s nothing in the calendar of nature that excuses this obvious (to me) falsification of the holiday.  Why is it today, of all days?  I mean, yes I get the history.  We now use the Gregorian version of the calendar and in 153 BC the Powers that Be (aka the Roman Consuls, with the ratification of the Roman Senate) officially changed  “new year’s day” to January 1stTHE DAY (and/corresponding eve) to celebrate, apparently.  But there is no solstice, no change in weather/seasons…nothing for me with which to link it.  It really bothers me…almost on a cellular level.

Way back when, the Greeks and Romans originally celebrated the new year with the Winter Solstice (aka Yule, for any of the Euro-pagan learned/leaning types)…marking when the sun “returned” and the days began to lengthen.  THAT makes sense to me.  Many cultures, including the Phoenicians, Persians and Egyptians, marked their new year at the Autumn Equinox…when the Summer light dwindled and the the wane of warmth was most apparent.  THAT makes sense to me…and seems to loosely correspond with the Wiccan “new year” of Samhain (aka Hallowe’en to all you raised in the Christian western world).  Then, there are those earth-based religions that mark their new year with the Spring Equinox…when the Earth revives and the new Life is sprouting everywhere…either obvious and apparent above ground (I love those first crocuses!), or as yet imperceptibly in the earth or womb.  THAT really makes the most sense to me.  All these reasons make me feel like an awful cheating lover, wooing someone else behind my loved-one’s back, when/if I make a big hoopla on Dec 31st/Jan 1st! 

And then I get disgusted.

Disgusted with the mindless Hoople-heads that make any public holiday so annoying to be out and about.  See…maybe I want to bend a little and be with my friends and their perception and happiness of the “New Year”, regardless of my own thing.  I mean, I can go to mass for the beauty and magic of it, and not have to believe in the whole Son-of-God/Virgin-Birth concept…and still enjoy and appreciate it, can’t I?  Well, so I should be able to do so with this whole “New Year” thing!  But the asinine Weekend Warriors (as my sister calls them…they’ll always be Hoople-heads to me after Deadwood…)…my GAWD!  Do they really need this holiday to exhibit their Stupidity?  Their Blatant Audacity?  Their…Name-Your-Undesirable-Quality-Here!  I mean, it’s not even 8:00 pm yet and outside my window, on my “quiet” residential city street, I already am hearing “Whoo-hooooo!” and “YEE-AAHH!”…amid cackling laughter and various idiotic snippets of “conversation” from those that would be “revelers”.

Yes…now I sound like an Old Fogie.  I sound like a Bah-Humbug Bitch.  But some people’s children are just so offensive that I just don’t want to be around them and there are SO many more of them out on a night like this.

Used to be, I was younger and could just drink more, take more drugs, whatever, to ignore them.  It springs to mind now that maybe some thought of me in the same terms as I am now thinking of Them.  I’m not so self-delusional to dismiss such a possibility altogether…but I really rather doubt it.  For one, I didn’t usually need a forced-upon-me-holiday like “New Year’s” to indulge myself…in fact, I have felt this way about the “holiday” for many, many years.  I did, however, do as I mentioned above…go out with my friends (and overindulge!) to share in their enjoyment of the holiday, thereby creating more enjoyment in turn on my end.

The Gregorian New Year is not my holiday…I have my own holiday(s).  Yule…which we just finished…and coming up, Ostara (the Spring Equinox).  THAT’s my real New Year. And though I do wish all of you a very Happy and Prosperous New Year (by the Gregorian calendar)…rest assured that my real and more abundant blessing is still to come.

Stay safe.  Stay Happy.  And whatever you do…STAY AWAY FROM THE HOOPLE-HEADS!

Brightest Blessings from Seattle…to get you through to Spring…


©2008 D. Kessler

This is a test of the Emergency Blogging System (aka WordPress for iPhone)…this is only a test. We’re about to see if this app is worth it’s beans (which was actually nothing…the app was free).

I am sitting in a closet-sized room at the hubby’s practice co-op…a 15′ x 8′ box with egg-crate foam on the walls and more musical equipment than I think they actually use on a regular basis (I could be wrong on that one, but I’m stickin’ to my guns). Three guys currently in attendance (the fourth is unable to make it in becuz of the snow), six stringed instruments (of the guitar family, of course) traded out every now & then (depending on the song), a full drum kit sits forlorn in the corner wishing it’s daddy had come out to play (yes, pun intended), and I’m keeping the drum stool company cuz there’s nowhere else for me to sit. Pass the Courvoisier, even tho’ it’s not my ideal fare, cuz Bay-bee…It’s COLD outside!!
I would be cozy and holed up on the couch with my ‘puter, but there’s some drama of the domestic kind happening with our neighbors and I really can’t deal with them right now. So, I guess you could say I’m hiding. I know…bad, huh?

Whaddaya gonna do…

Earlier, I got this little-kid bug up my butt to go walking in the snow. So I dragged my spouse out into the frigid exterior world to the Seattle Center to stomp around and look at the lights in the trees around the currently hybrrnating International Fountain. We came across some interesting sights like this life-size  ice sculpture (the sign says it was done over the weekend…gives you an idea how frakin’ freezing it’s been cuz it’s still whole:


Also, this light display made me feel like I should have a cocktail and be shouting at my friends in close range in order to be heard over the 180 bpm…but all was silent as the snow usually seems to make things…

In any case, I’m just thankful…and amused…that I can “hide out” here with the guys and they don’t seem to mind. In fact, they actually seem to enjoy the opportunity to show off new songs and pretend to be rock stars. No, really…they don’t sound half bad…

[editor’s note:  After posting the above from my iPhone app, I went back and reviewed the actual post from the web via my ‘puter and, as I expected, there where things that needed immediate attention.  Things such as formatting and spelling corrections and additions of tags and such…which I promptly have modified to as I originally intended them to be. Although the app for WordPress is nice in a pinch, a few things I have issue with are these:

  1. Photos, as far as I can tell, are only able to be added to the end of a post, and even then they may not be shown on the website in the order intended, nor can they be sized to fit.  Maybe this is because I am new to the app, but I searched and searched for a way to fix this via my iPhone, but could come up with no solution.
  2. There is no spell check, so you better know exactly what you are typing (hard to do on the touch screen sometimes) and exactly how Ms Whatever-Her-Name-Is that taught you spelling in name-your-grade-here instructed you.
  3. I entered the tags and categories in the appropriate places on the app, but when I checked in on Dy’s Mind’s Eye, they were nowhere.  Again…is this cuz I’m new to using the app??

But like I said…it’s good in a pinch.  For when you absolutely have to blog something but are on the go and can’t sit down with your face turned to the Incredible Glowing Screen.]

Oh-tay…Lights out..”

© 2008 D. Kessler

I am officially a Lame-o.  One that is lame.  A slacker that sucks.  Yep, that’s me.

Of course, I’m not so down on myself to be applying that to every part of my life.  No, no…I’m definitely a lame-o, but only as it applies to selected areas of expectations.

I suck at commitment to little things.  Oh, I’m great at commitment to big-ticket things like:  being committed to my relationship with my spouse, sticking to the same job until way past when my psyche needs me to pack it in and find something better, making sure we have all the necessary traditional items on the table at name-your-holiday-here.  I can definitely be counted on to be there if you’re having a crisis and you need me to sleep over to make sure you don’t slit your wrists or other vital artery-holding area of the body. And, yes, I seem to have helped more than my fair share of friends move.

But then there are the things I really, really want to do that I just give the shaft or screw up in some way.  Like seriously planning on signing up for pottery classes and even telling some friends so I’ll be more likely to follow through…but it never happens.  Or, wanting to learn French and thinking that that Rosetta Stone program looks like a good idea…but when I got my 401K cashed out and I had the money to spend on the full deal…nope, didn’t happen.  Oh, and I can’t tell you how many times I’ve joined a gym and end up paying for months that I don’t ever step into the place.  This last time really sucked because the gym was only three blocks away from home, one block away from work (in the same direction as home) and I just stopped going after three  or four months…always planning on going back though, because I would see it there every day…except that then the building got sold and so the gym closed and now I’m S.O.L.  Then there was this week-end…two shows I wanted to see with friends I haven’t seen in a while, and I didn’t show up for either one!  Well, it’s true I can’t really afford to go out to see bands at the moment, what with me outta a job and dependant on my spouse for the frivolous funds…but still!  I told people I would try to make it..and I meant it!  And, of course, let’s not forget about how my NaNoWriMo word count was higher than I’ve ever achieved in one short month…no, ever.  But I didn’t even get half-way to the 50K goal…and it’s totally do-able if I would have just written everyday, just a little, not even 2000 words each day.

Really, I’m doing all this bashing myself over the head because I realized something very late last night…around 2:00 am, actually.  I totally screwed up and did not post yesterday…AT ALL.  There goes my “31 posts in 31 days”…there goes my “I did this!” pride swelling my ego even more…there goes my promise to you all reading this slog.  I just kept putting it off all day…because Sundays are so nice and lazy sometimes and the couch felt good and I had my hubby home and we just were LAA-ZEE.  Oh, I’ll write later…I don’t have any words right now…I’m so sleepy-comfy…I have all day…I have ’til mid-night even…I…

Oh, frak…it’s not Sunday anymore.  I screwed up.  Then I even entertained the idea of posting anyway, at 2 am, as it would be something and even though the calendar wouldn’t recognize it as a post for Sunday I would, and I would write again for Monday like usual.  But I didn’t have any words because my brain was dragging out all the things that I suck at and making me feel like you-know-what.  It kind of slaughtered any words that might have been hanging out waiting for the right time and the rest of the words to come cluster together with them to make some sort of coherent…something.  In fact, I still don’t really have anything to say about my assigned December topic of “thanks”.  I’m thankful for…what?  Being a lame-o?

Hmm…maybe I can turn this around and say…well…

I’m thankful for lazy Sunday afternoons.  The ones that have a bit of autumn chill, but not the energy-sapping wind that can often accompany them.  The ones that have the slight pitter-patter against the window and the broadleaf evergreen buses outside that make you drowsy and want a nice hot camomile tea with honey.  The ones that make you want to stay curled up inside on the couch with a book, or a couple of indy, foreign or b&w classic films…you, your loved-one and the furry feline all in a tangled web of grandma’s home knitted/crocheted throws…what we call a “Cat Pile” in our house.

That’s what I got.  That’s my story and I’m stickin’ to it.  You don’t’ like it, well, too bad.  (Any others I’m missing here?)

And I am sorry for any of you that stopped by on Sunday to find a re-run from the day before…really I am.  We’ll try not to let it happen again, at least not this month.

But then…I am a Lame-o, ya know, and it might…but I hope not…

© 2008 D. Kessler