Tuesday, December 28, 2004

hazy shade of winter

Pomo? Verisimilitude?
My God! Where have I been? I must have slipped out of the evolution line somewhere. I am so behind- hey buddy, gotta map? With pictures, please. Obviously, my vocabulary skills stopped developing about the same time my breasts did. Fourteen letters, six beats... Looks to me that it'll just be gloming up precious brain matter that I have already dedicated to other functions (like breathing). Ha! Now ain't that the truth!?

My friend, Ron, says he likes the feeling he gets after having a sickness. I am looking forward to that feeling. However, I may be backwards from him. I felt great, refreshed, new, excited...before this illness took its toll. Now I have hazy reflection. I remember telling him a month ago how great I felt, the best in years. That moment became my new benchmark for feeling that feeling. I'm not letting it go of that moment, just the stuff that is getting in my way to achieving it. Too idealistic, crap. If only I could just reason/season.

time, time, time....
look whats become of me

in a pool of lung oysters I bid you goodnight.

(oh, honorable mention= "rhymes with" bit at fluffystuffin' was brilliant, my lad)

Tuesday, December 21, 2004

Flu...It's not like I remember it...

Wow, I am sick. Really sick. I can't remember ever being this ill. I feel that I have a fairly high pain tolerence. Broken bones, car wrecks, major dental work- yeah, whatever... But this, this, flu has literally flattened me. It's been 7 days. Everyday, I think it'll be better, but these are just lies floating between deadening brain neurons. I even went to the doctor (on day 4). You know it's bad if I go to the doctor, since I don't have health insurance, or a cash ass in which to pull money out of. I went because I was worried that I was going to die, yeah- That Bad. They told me that I came in before it became phnumonia, which is good. They gave me a puffer for my lungs, told me to continue my meds that I have been taking (800mg of Motrin every 6 hours- now that is insane. I only got 600mg after I gave birth to my son) and told me to rest. Rest- I have been imoblile for days at a time (now it is just hours). I haven't had a cohearent conversation with my kid since this started. And even though he's only 2.8 years old it's not him who is dropping the ball. Okay, I must resume resting, since I'm having a hard time holding my head up straight and my own drool is beginning to meld with the sweat stains on my shirt. Mmmm, pretty, huh?
Oh, I highly recommend a flu shot next year.
in sickness,

Perfect Blue Buildings

Sunday, October 24, 2004

Been a busy few days...
Spent the afternoon at Eastern Market (2934 N. Russell St. Detroit, 313-833-1560) in Detroit with the family. It wasn't as hectic as I remember it. The amount of beautiful fresh fruit, vegetables, and flowers was unbelievable. We bought a pound of yummy, sweet strawberries for a dollar, three 1/2 pints of raspberries for four dollars, an enormous head of broccoli for another dollar. A vendor even gave my 2 year old son, Noah, a pumpkin. This place makes me want to erase Kroger's from my brain.

On the fringe area of the Market are many specialty shops. Since all time revolves around said 2 year old, we only had time to stop at three stores before sugar inspired/lack of nap attitude began to set in. First was R Hirt Jr. and Co. (2468 Market St. Detroit-313-567-1173).
The building is ancient brick, with thick, well worn wood floors, spaning 3 stories. The first floor has all the cheese (over 400 varieties) and meats. People crowd the counter like cattle at the feed trough. The employees are well versed in herding their way through the masses, and seem to efficiently assist all who are waiting without major incident. Away from the counter is the gourmet herbs, and kitchen gadgets, sauces, ect. The second floor has the sale items, and the third floor has all the baskets, cool kid toys, candles and other smelly things, and opalessent wrapping paper that my pal Ron was quite fond of ($27.00 for a roll of 30x100).

The second store was the Rafal Spice Co. (2521 Russell, Detroit 313-259-6373). Ron and I found many new types of Zantarains Rice and Pasta (yes, pasta) mixes and numerous herbs, teas, and flavored coffee (who out there still drinks this stuff?!?). The place was mobbed, but like the Hirt employees, the Rafal employees never blinked an eye at the constant ebb and flow of people swelling the store. The store smells good, too.

The final store was Rocky Peanut Co. (www.rockypeanut.com). Wow! Nuts! Candy! Dried Fruit! We found not only Madagascar Vanilla there, in liquid form, but also in powder and in paste form. I used to be a pastry baker, and I have never come across vanilla in any other form other than in beans or liquid. It's pricey, so I refrained from buying any at the time. I didn't spend as much time as I would have liked there, so I'm sure I missed much...

Over all, it was a splendid fall day. Worth getting lost and everything (Mark sends a shout out to the crack ho who's directions would of sent us straight to the morgue).

back to the "Virgin Suicides" (in book form) for me...

see ya,

Wednesday, October 20, 2004

A Blog? Huh! I have a hard enough time checking my email...

I really have no business being here, on this blog site, that is. So why? Well, I talked my best pal into starting one. Yeah, I sure can talk. Look at where it has gotten me. You're reading, aren't you? After one comment on his blog, it was suggested that I get my own so I wouldn't litter up his comment log. Maybe it's because I refered to comments as "posts".... Mental note: blog master=post, commenteer=litterbug. What do I know? Litterbugs sure are cute~

The title: Okay, I like the Counting Crows. a lot. It is the title of a song that plays in my head on a continuous loop. Oh, several Crows songs resonate through my brain on that loop. The title and content of the lyrics seemed better suited for a blog of my liking. A portion of the lyrics are used in my "description". I was going to use "I got bones beneath my skin, and mister there's a skeleton in every man's house. Beneath the dust and love and sweat that hang on everybody, there's a dead man trying to get out." That'll be my back-up motto. I just didn't want to scare anyone off in case people really did read this.

Okay, enough for now. A person can only hear "push Noah, push Noah, N O A H spells NOAH!" so many times before their brain scrambles. Noah would love this blog to be full of N O A H letters. I'm sure when he figures out how to navigate the start up page for blogger it will happen. Until then~ you get the real
Camie Vog