one. november second: plan your epitaph day. here's a happy one for yall. buy a small batch of posies, visit a cemetery and leave the flowers at the grave of someone whose headstone struck some sort of chord with you. sometimes people leave quotes on them. my older brother's buried in colorado. his headstone is a bench upon which are the words laughter was his art. if you're feeling especially generous, maybe send up a prayer of thanksgiving for that individual's family and friends.
i didn't have to go far for this one. one of my mom's students is buried in a cemetery minutes from our home. i'd gone there to try to find her. the first to catch my attention was the grave of a one-day old boy named hank. i always liked that name. matthew 19:14. let the little children come to me, and do not hinder them, for the kingdom of heaven belongs to such as these.
three. november fourth. king tut day. yall know that bangles song walk like an egyptian? if you feel like strutting your stuff in public to the tune of that insane eighties hit, be my guest. or if you're in new york and can get to the met, supposedly they've got egyptian art on display. maybe a museum near you does? i got no idea. look into that. i'm cool with you browsing the stacks of your local library or bookstore. find a book about king tut or the egyptians... factual or fiction, turn to page one hundred fourteen, what's the fourth word on the eleventh line?
|three. agatha christie's death on the nile. the fourth word on the eleventh line of page one hundred fourteen is it's.|
|four. sending a note to senator cornyn.|
four. november fifth. guy fawkes day. ever wanted to give a senator, congressman or some other elected official a piece of your mind? i put a letter in the mail to the president the other day. i didn't care that he'll most likely never see it; it felt good writing it, addressing it and dropping it in one of the united states postal services boxes, complete with my jimi hendrix stamp in the top right corner. find out who's running things in your neck of the woods. try bitching to him instead of your twitter and facebook accounts.
|five. shel, who plays the sax, and i at kyle field for the aggies vs. utsa game|
|six. at baker street pub and grill|
|and at the gooses acre irish pub|
one of the gals in the book club to which i belong chose the twister. i limited it to one line: mrs. puggy wuggy has a square cut punt. the whole thing's pretty spectacular, really. she found it here.
three things about the gal on the left: best day: one spent with family; where she'd most like to go on vacation: italy; favorite film: walk the line. and three about the one on the right: she prefers coke over pepsi. her best vacation was cancun (white sand, blue water, lots of liquor); favorite food's pizza (pepperoni with black olives from dominos).
|oh, yes, we have old bananas. mama's saving them for banana bread.|
|nine. donating clothes to something special, montgomery county women's center's resale shop.|
|ten. idiot's identity spared because he's my brother|
eleven. november nineteenth. international men's day. how interesting that this occurs on the same day as world toilet day. get a gift card valued at no more than twenty-five dollars to some store or restaurant dudes love. dick's sporting goods, perhaps (though i hear their shit's way overpriced...so academy may be a better bet). give it to a random guy. just because.
the day i tackled this one, i was at starbucks with a couple of my writing friends. one of them suggested i get a gift card from the boardroom, which is basically a really upscale barber shop.
|eleven. me bestowing a gift card to the boardroom, a place where guys go to get groomed, to a married man. not awkward at all.|
|twelve. my spot at pappadeaux's.|
i'd intended to use a photo of lake woodlands as seen from the edge of northshore park, but there was a fence in my way. and then it occurred to me: in my free time, which isn't really free because i'm typically using it to write, i'm at deaux's, so... that is my spot. those are my people.
sammy hundley at the gooses acre irish pub.
|fourteen. watching martian child.|
i chose to watch martian child. david (john cusack), a science-fiction novelist and widower, must decide if he wants to go through the plans he'd made with his wife to adopt a child. he meets dennis, a boy who insists he's from mars. i love this movie. i forget how much, and then i watch it again, and it's like my love for it grows with every viewing.
david: are you a friend of his or what?
esther: no, he's a weirdo. he doesn't have any friends.
he doesn't? where is he hanging out?
he's in the box. he doesn't come out until night.
why does he do that?
the sun. he hates the sun.
why does he hate the sun?
i don't know. because he thinks it's too sunny?
|the bluebonnet squares dancing to the beat of blurred lines.|