"Some calls it madness...I calls it HiDeeHo." - Cab Calloway
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Friday, August 02, 2002


"Weight: Unable to weigh due to weight."


posted by Julie Neff  # 8/02/2002 11:51:00 AM

Thursday, August 01, 2002

Eris called up Josh and told him to call me to stop me from cleaning up my place, and he did. Aw....isn't that just sweet? I still have to clean up, just not right at this minute. Hey Vesta; preside over THIS hearth!

Suddenly I am having a quiet and subdued fit of present saudade (thank you for correcting my spelling). It's a lonely kind of day now. Things are bringing me to tears easily. The man I love is only half an hour's drive away, but in such a public place and while he's on the clock, there can be NO physical affection whatsoever, maybe not even a firm handshake, especially not in front of the kid...agh! You know what torture it is to be drawn to someone like a magnet and have societal convention being the only thing coming between you? You have to convey everything through eye contact. That may seem like a nice, romantic concept, but in practice it's just more butterfly-wing-tickle torture! It's not just half-my-age hormones, either. Remember how YOU were at age 14?

Even if we are just holding hands, innocent as possible, I can perceive the nature of the multiverses just through that contact. The lines on our palms are maps of worlds we have yet to travel... I take in the world through my senses and throw it back out there through words, but Josh heightens the input to the point of overload, frazz, frizz and snap of ozone.

So I imagine a kiss again while eating brown-sugar-cinnamon shortbreads and wishing I had some mead...oh, such sweet sustenance is to be mine for yet another lifetime...how wonderfully appropriate. Can I convey, do you want to know?

"Bring the tides in with you!"
The moon has gone away
Mother left us all alone
And now it's time to play
Shadow dancing faery songs
Far into the night
Sneaking crumbs of children's dreams
Made of glitter-light
We cannot touch or break the charm
Only looks and sighs
The mirrors we look into
Are in each other's eyes

See? I'm all teary-eyed over this little childish snatch of verse. It's like that. To quote Bjork, "When you're away, my heart comes undone, slowly unravels..."

posted by Julie Neff  # 8/01/2002 02:26:00 PM

Okay. Okay. This can only go on for so long. The only room in my pad that doesn't need to be ferociously tidied is the hallway. We are out of peanut butter AND out of bread. Vesta has revoked my blogging privileges until I start paying more attention to her.

Pooka, Spriggan and I are journeying south this weekend to the far-off land of Chicago. I promised Vesta that I'd clean, organize, tidy and restock before we go. (I hear Miss Discord laughing at me...hahahaha, she says). So...under order of an Original Domestic Goddess, I shall suspend documentation.

posted by Julie Neff  # 8/01/2002 09:23:00 AM

Wednesday, July 31, 2002

Let's hear it for Bob for helping me out! Huzzah! Huzzah! Huzzah!

I do believe that I will change that godsawful color scheme, though. Also, I think you have to post something in order to read the comments...well, I freely admit I am only the greenest beginner when it comes to even editing templates, so bear with me.

posted by Julie Neff  # 7/31/2002 08:02:00 PM

I have the best porn name ever.

posted by Julie Neff  # 7/31/2002 03:15:00 PM


My life is a movie waiting to happen, starring Brittany Murphy as me. Just like that. She even looks like me, whoohoo! I don't know about young me or teenage me. I was...unique. Hayley Mills as a youngster is as close as I can imagine.

Josh would have to be played by Gary Sinise, particulary as he looked in Of Mice and Men. I know, the still is of crummy quality, but that's how I see him. He knows what I mean. Just prep him up and dork him out a little more...yeah, I could see that...that's an easy one. Heehee.

Denver would probably have to be, if this is possible, a cross between Butch Walker and Diedrich Bader. Failing that, we could just get a younger Joe Pesci. Yeah, throw all three of them in a blender, take out the cool, and you have Denver.

Dave, my ex-boyfriend before Denver, was a dead ringer for Johnny Depp before he let himself go; when last I saw him, he resembled Rob Zombie . Blech. (Hey, Josh, come to think of it, you kind of have that J.D. thing goin on occasionally too....be flattered!)

My mother would have to be Joanna Lumley with a Wisconsin accent. Consider it a compliment, Mom.

My dad? None other than Brian Blessed , everyone's favorite Romanized Briton. Of course, yes, the accent...

Morgan? Thats a toughie. She would want Shirley Temple to be her, but you know, she's kind of...older now. Hell, since we have Hayley Mills playing me as a child, why not?

End of fantasy casting call.

posted by Julie Neff  # 7/31/2002 01:12:00 PM

Ugh for so many reasons. It's a mockery. Good motive; baaaaaaaad execution.

posted by Julie Neff  # 7/31/2002 12:10:00 PM


The moon is waning. I can feel the ebb tide, subduing and washing away. I feel like that moth on the car window the other morning. Feel a bit caught out and overburnished and alien, a bit esoteric and intangible. The river is running low, which will cause a proliferation of transition sprouts and dragonfly bullets; instead of a free-flowing current, there are odd murky pools full of frogs and treacherous mudholes with gold at the bottom.

You met me in the time of the maiden moon, fell in love with me during the mother moon, now let's fermata it over through the croning moon...

If I went to Kettle Moraine or Lapham Peak today, I guarantee that I'd encounter some beasties, wee or no. I feel like I should be there. There is a surge of "empty-nest"ness coming from nature now, as many of the babies are fledged and furred and on their own. The moon phase and the season are in sync.

That word, saul-dodgy? Saldagie? Soldahzhi? You know what I'm talking about. I can't spell it and I can't find it online (though I did find a page full of Brazilian guitarists and composers...coo!) The pleasant melancholia? I have it. The waning moon. The empty nest. The cherchant temps perdu, thinking about time others may consider wasted, but is so full of nuance and image and misterioso that even if the times were sad and wasted, the ability to look back on them is a pleasure in and of itself.

posted by Julie Neff  # 7/31/2002 11:16:00 AM

Tuesday, July 30, 2002

I am having a thing happen where people are kind of indirectly blaming me for having their lives take a sudden downturn. I say to them, Julie don't play that. Men of the Clan D, please kindly just pick yourselves up, dust yourselves off, and get back to work.

Oh, and by the way...friends are not property. You cannot own them. You cannot have a custody battle over other adults. You have to let THEM decide with whom they will fraternize.

posted by Julie Neff  # 7/30/2002 08:56:00 PM

For those times when you just can't seem to scrounge up any coffee, tea, soda or chocolate...we have Vivarin. This website in and of itself is hysterically funny. Just click on it and see. NoDoz didn't have a site so funny. I think they meant it to be chuckle-clever, but it's OH SO MUCH MORE than that.

posted by Julie Neff  # 7/30/2002 08:49:00 PM


Tell us, Princess Morgan Raincloud, how did your horse come to be hanging from a church steeple, and how did you free him?

Well, the horse, his name is Couche, wanted to get a look at a dragon-shaped cloud up there...

But wait; how came you by this horse in the first place?

Old MacDonald the farmer was having an auction on Channel 10 of his horses; Couche was the smallest and I wanted to ride him because he looked small. I needed a horse anyway. I can't ride a bike, but I can ride a horse. He wanted to get a look at a cloud...and he climbed the church. He just threw his rope and pulled himself up. He's small, so he's not very heavy...

And who taught a horse how to climb like that?

Old MacDonald's cat. The cat is VERY smart. I think he could speak Horse. Old MacDonald didn't know that. The cat would sneak out and get into trouble by being so smart, sneaking into people's houses and eating their food...he snuck into my house and was snooping around, I think because I had catnip...he never did tell me his name, you know? Sneaky cat.

But a horse has no claws...

I know. He used a rope, I told you. The cat taught him how to climb with a rope. The cat knew how to climb with ropes, too.

That's the biggest load of tosh I've ever heard! I don't believe you!

(reciting): You have insulted me and called me a liar. I must challenge you to a duel.

(Rock/scissors/paper ensues, best 2 of 3. Mo wins)

I stand corrected, Princessa. Please, do continue.

All right. This cat was sneaking around my house and I had bought Couche, this small horse. The cat and the horse got together and talked and talked, and the cat told the horse about clouds and how to get up into trees to see them better....and then the cat went and got my rope out of my closet and said, here's a rope, go climb a tree, there are some nice clouds out today.

But how on earth did the horse even hold onto the rope?

Oh, Couche has thumbs.

A horse with opposable thumbs.

No, just thumbs.

I see.

Mo and I went on and on like this; when her story got too far out, I'd call her on it, we'd rock/scissors/paper it out, and she'd go on. We did this for like an hour. My Gods and Goddesses...I've got a live one.

posted by Julie Neff  # 7/30/2002 08:00:00 PM

Monday, July 29, 2002

This morning, I lapsed altruistic. I started with a fantasy of involving Doctors Without Borders. I can't think of a better way to practice medicine. If I can't be a denizen of a dank underground lab, I'd be out healing the masses, asking nothing more than shelter. My heart goes out to ailing humanity. Needlessly messianic?

As it stands, though, I continue to edit reports of old women who want their implants removed, tummies tucked, age spots zapped; teenage girls embarking on the aventure sexuelle and thankfully seeking birth control; men provoked into asking about Viagra and wives forgetting that they're on nitroglycerin for angina (a lethal combo, FYI); snow birds who need their GI/GU consult records transferred to Drs. Schmelkowicz and Rosenblatt "up north," etc. ad nauseam.

I need to do something worthwhile with my undegreed knowledge. Can't I tend to the AIDS-riddled denizens of the nurseries in Africa? Can't we offer something more for Ebola victims? What, not even morphine sulfate? Can't the drug companies just forget about the stupid fucking evil profit motive and get the antibiotics and pain controls where they're needed? Can't I go to Calcutta, lay on the hands and magick them well? Well, why not? Volunteering at the missions in New Orleans on "days off" and such was as close as I got.

NovaMom needs a career change.

posted by Julie Neff  # 7/29/2002 12:47:00 PM


Last night, Morgan was introduced to three things that will enrich her life forever:

1. Rock-scissors-paper.
2. Baron Munchausen.
3. Role-playing games.

More to come on this particular subject...

posted by Julie Neff  # 7/29/2002 09:06:00 AM

Field trip day! Mo is going to a farm today with her day care class.

Miss Stephanie told us on Friday that we had to come at 8:00 today because the bus was leaving at 8:30 and they needed to get the kids bug-doped and organized, etc. Mo usually goes at 9:00. Well, okay. I think to myself, I've been waking up so early lately, I don't need an alarm, zzzzzZzzzzZ...phone rings, talk to Josh. Gee, now I'm wide awake and hungry. Midnight snack of hot sauce and stale Fronch bread. Get online to see what's shakin' down. Talk to Josh again. Ladeeda, happy happy. Crash back out until...7:57 a.m.

HOLY CRAP! We have to leave in 3 minutes! Urrrgh...this is the latest I've slept in like a month. Wouldn't you know, I slept on my face for almost six hours, too. Mo was zombified. She, too, had slept on her face for nearly 11 hours. I washed her up, dressed her, shoved some granola bar into her face, put on her shoes and dodged out the door only 5 minutes late. I hope she wakes up at some point. Every day was like this about a year ago. Now they are so few and far between, I feel compelled to make mention of them.

This morning was one where all the business moms were cluttering up the lot with their Lexus minivans (yes, they drive those out here, a lot, pretense means nothing), the business moms were stanking up the lake-scented air with their Obsession and Giorgio (remember the 80s?), standing in the doorway talking about what their husbands think of whatever, who gives a flarg, and along comes NovaMom (alterna-Mom redux) in slept-in T-shirt, my signature giganto pants, slept-in face, dragging a somnambulant Mo behind. I could not have gotten more evil looks had I been smoking a giant blunt and driving a herd of goats through their midst. What is the matter with the women in this town? A simple "perdon" falls on deaf ears. Maybe I should speak more clearly?

Let's hear it one more time for the home office! Hip Hip Huzz..zzzzzzzzzZ.

posted by Julie Neff  # 7/29/2002 09:03:00 AM

Sunday, July 28, 2002

Os anos passam como se fosse um sonho. Isn't that nice to know?

posted by Julie Neff  # 7/28/2002 04:24:00 PM


"When you take some pleasure in small things, the big things seem to work themselves out. So go ahead and be a little vain, spend your money, eat the chocolates, moongaze, have a cig and a cup of coffee. If these kinds of things are the difference between wanting to be alive and wanting to be dead, you'd better remember them."

Circa September 1996

posted by Julie Neff  # 7/28/2002 04:19:00 PM

This. That's all I can say.

posted by Julie Neff  # 7/28/2002 12:20:00 PM


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