Sign the papers and make them into airplanes
Occasionally I must adopt list format. Today is such an occasion.
1) I took a day job. I am possibly the only person I know who could be genuinely fascinated by a B2B writing gig. But get this. My job is to attend business conversations and fuck them up a little bit by being friendly. They think this will invite more creative exchange and upend new info that might have been missed in a strictly pro talk, and they are right. What they don't know is just how incalculably good I am at fucking things up with my friendliness. That I was chosen for this task is possibly one of the evidences for a divinely organized universe. Anyway, after I mess with the talks, then I make them into 250 words and send them to other people to have other talks about, which I also attend and interrupt and summarize. I don't know. Someone might not have thought this through. I did, though. I did think it through. My thinking was that I had better go get that paper. Today was my first day. Which means I have not been writing the blog all day while I leisurely consider my thoughts and shop for muscle relaxing bath salts online. I'm just writing it right now real quick before I go to Whale Practice.
2) I didn't tell you about the whale? There is a whale in my life. It is a puppet. And it is big. Ten of us are practicing puppetting the thing all together. You might wonder how I got involved with a whale. I'll tell you. It started last fall, when the collaborators of Opera-Matic were hanging around inspiring one another by drinking beer and looking at the internet together. One of them told us a story that made our hearts into goo, and so then the whale puppet was born. Rather, it was born yesterday, after months and months of getting the dollars to make it and figuring out how to make it, and then making it. I'll send pictures later. For now, you are invited to read the story that goo-ed are hearts all up:
1) I took a day job. I am possibly the only person I know who could be genuinely fascinated by a B2B writing gig. But get this. My job is to attend business conversations and fuck them up a little bit by being friendly. They think this will invite more creative exchange and upend new info that might have been missed in a strictly pro talk, and they are right. What they don't know is just how incalculably good I am at fucking things up with my friendliness. That I was chosen for this task is possibly one of the evidences for a divinely organized universe. Anyway, after I mess with the talks, then I make them into 250 words and send them to other people to have other talks about, which I also attend and interrupt and summarize. I don't know. Someone might not have thought this through. I did, though. I did think it through. My thinking was that I had better go get that paper. Today was my first day. Which means I have not been writing the blog all day while I leisurely consider my thoughts and shop for muscle relaxing bath salts online. I'm just writing it right now real quick before I go to Whale Practice.
2) I didn't tell you about the whale? There is a whale in my life. It is a puppet. And it is big. Ten of us are practicing puppetting the thing all together. You might wonder how I got involved with a whale. I'll tell you. It started last fall, when the collaborators of Opera-Matic were hanging around inspiring one another by drinking beer and looking at the internet together. One of them told us a story that made our hearts into goo, and so then the whale puppet was born. Rather, it was born yesterday, after months and months of getting the dollars to make it and figuring out how to make it, and then making it. I'll send pictures later. For now, you are invited to read the story that goo-ed are hearts all up:
The lovesick whale
by WILLIAM LOWTHER
For 12 long years, the whale swimming deep down in the North Pacific has been calling out for a mate - and for 12 long years, there has been no reply. Scientists have yet to see the whale,
but they know he (or she) is there because they have picked up its
plaintive calls, using US Navy technology that usually monitors enemy
submarines. The lonesome whale's sex and species remain unknown. But
its love cry in a basso profundo frequency - just above the lowest note
on a tuba - is all too familiar to the marine biologists at America's
Woods Hole Oceanographic Institution. They have called the creature '52 Hertz' because it makes a distinctive stream of sounds at around that frequency. Whales
are social animals that usually travel in schools and play and feed
together in pods where they find their mates and raise their families. A lone whale - such as the fictional Moby Dick - is extremely rare. Dr Mary Ann Daher, a marine biologist at Woods Hole, said: "Its sonic signature is clearly that of a whale, but nothing like the normal voice of the giant blue or the next biggest species, the fin, or any other whale for that matter." The sounds come from a single animal whose movements appear to be unrelated to the presence or movement of other whale species." The scientists believe the whale could be on its own because it is a hybrid of a blue whale and another species. Being of 'mixed birth' it may not be accepted by any single species. While it has been monitored for more than a decade, the whale's existence has only now received publicity because of a paper by the biologists published in the US journal Deep Sea Research.
Under
a top secret programme, the US Navy has hidden microphones and
recording equipment throughout the North Pacific so that it can pick up
and monitor the sounds of enemy submarines passing through the area.
And it is on this classified system or 'sound array' that the mysterious whale has been heard.
3) How is your heart area now? Sorry about that. You can come see the big guy sing with Andrew Bird at the Hideout Block Party not this Saturday but next Saturday. Not kidding. Serious.
4) So, the whale has some jellyfish friends. They are also puppets. Last week or whenever, I was sewing jellyfishes with the ladies of Opera-Matic when, for reasons I shall not detail presently, it was suggested to me that I order the book The Highly Sensitive Person. I got it in the mail yesterday, and good god damn, I believe I am having a psychophysiomotion response right now. Give me a minute. (My point. if you are a freak who cries at everything and sleeps in earplugs just to stay calm, you, too, should order that book. Warning: you are in for a very intense self-help language immersion, so take the next few days to acclamate your Infant/Body Self to the energy of Spirit Mother Care, then find your Womb Center, crack a Healing Elixir and get comfortable.)
5) Ok. Better now. So, hmm, the thing is that I have now, in the interest of rent payment and whatnot, scheduled every hour of every day except Sunday nights until Halloween. Yes, I'm worried about it, but mostly I'm trying to remember that I'm having a good time. I am dancing the dances and making the jellyfish and puppetting the whales and doing the yoga and fucking up the business conversations all day long. Life is good, I'm almost certain of it.
6) I'm going to keep in touch with you. It is going to be weird and hard, but that's how strong my love is. To those darling dears who have written to me this week and received no reply, forgive me maybe. I will write you soon!
7) Seven is better than six.
3) How is your heart area now? Sorry about that. You can come see the big guy sing with Andrew Bird at the Hideout Block Party not this Saturday but next Saturday. Not kidding. Serious.
4) So, the whale has some jellyfish friends. They are also puppets. Last week or whenever, I was sewing jellyfishes with the ladies of Opera-Matic when, for reasons I shall not detail presently, it was suggested to me that I order the book The Highly Sensitive Person. I got it in the mail yesterday, and good god damn, I believe I am having a psychophysiomotion response right now. Give me a minute. (My point. if you are a freak who cries at everything and sleeps in earplugs just to stay calm, you, too, should order that book. Warning: you are in for a very intense self-help language immersion, so take the next few days to acclamate your Infant/Body Self to the energy of Spirit Mother Care, then find your Womb Center, crack a Healing Elixir and get comfortable.)
5) Ok. Better now. So, hmm, the thing is that I have now, in the interest of rent payment and whatnot, scheduled every hour of every day except Sunday nights until Halloween. Yes, I'm worried about it, but mostly I'm trying to remember that I'm having a good time. I am dancing the dances and making the jellyfish and puppetting the whales and doing the yoga and fucking up the business conversations all day long. Life is good, I'm almost certain of it.
6) I'm going to keep in touch with you. It is going to be weird and hard, but that's how strong my love is. To those darling dears who have written to me this week and received no reply, forgive me maybe. I will write you soon!
7) Seven is better than six.
what up karen i like your blog you should spruce it up with some pics of the whale peace tomás
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