2 Toothbrush Wars, The Bodhisattva Malibubarbie et al.
Yeah, well, time for an update for real. I used to blog irregularly and it's time to step up and get a half-decent account. So here's for you.
Toothbrush Wars, Day 2:
My toothbrush is still missing. I have obtained a backup brush for basic cleansing needs, but my expensive, fabulous, lovely sonic toothbrush is missing and I want that "teeth like glass, breath like kissing" feeling back again. Once you go sonic, you never have bad oral hygiene chronic. [Insert better slogan here].
I was reviewing "Queer Dharma: Voices of Gay Buddhists" (LEYLAND Winston Ed. 1998/2000, Gay Sunshine Press SF) and ran into the highly amusing "A Brief Practice of the Bodhisattva Malibubarbie" for the second time. Since this is a New Blog, I feel totally free to blather on about it as much as I'd ever like. While the entire book is a wonderful resource and full of poetry, short fiction, interviews with people who have the prefix "H. H. the..." prefixed to their name (i.e. His Highness), history, textual analysis & religious studies by famous scholars, I find that the one jewel which always brightens my day is this sadhana.
A sadhana is a ritual text that gives instructions on how to worship. Well, it's not worship per se: Buddhists are not theists in the way that outsiders understand, but the sadhana is meant to allow the practitioner to visualise a perfected being (buddha or other "divine being") and then merge their own self with the imaginary image. It's a way to practice consciousness awareness by invoking a separate image and then becoming this image.
So this sadhana, which is both a brilliant parody and somehow strangely moving, rocks my world.
In other notes, my cat is returning to normal. Two weeks of me being away made her a little unsane. My roomie reports she was crazy pissed: she shat on my bed, tore my room up, knocked all the books off the shelves etc. He had monitored her and my room while I was gone so it was clean when I got home but she was clearly direly distressed by my visit back to Rhode Island.
Since then she has been surgically attached to me, which is sweet. I feel bad she suffered when I was away but to take her with me would have been impossible for me and infinitely more traumatic for her. I'm trying to keep her as minimally neurotic as possible. She hasn't even made much of an effort to escape out the door; she sticks around where I am even when I leave the door open.
My neighbor is being an assmonkey. He is fucking nuts. He wrote this note in chalk on the ground about cigarette butts, which made my roommate berserk since the neighbor's stairs are covered with all kinds of stupid, garbage-y things: dead plants, old sponges, random junk: you get the idea. Meanwhile, my roomie, who smokes, places his butts carefully next to our door on our stairwell and then throws all of them away at once.
Not to mention that the neighbor is halftime really chatty and friendly: a big queen, bigger even than my roomie. So when he goes and switches onto superbitch and leaves weird notes, it's like, WHAT THE FUCK? What, is his meow broken? He could just say something if there is some real issue. Maybe he thinks some other butts are ours, but hey: there are a lot of people living in this large complex.
Man, on a final random note: fucking Neko Case, holy damn. Such a great voice. Beefheart Records, I believe.
WHERE IS MY BLOODY TOOTHBRUSH! The cat took it. I don't have an under-my-bed, so it can't be there. I didn't go out yesterday except to drop off my roomie at the airport and my friend was with me to attest that all I took with was my license and a dollar bill: he held them for me. It's not that big of an apartment, so where the hell is my toothbrush?
Gotta figure out about how to post pics. Maybe I'll get an account elsewhere with links.
Toothbrush Wars, Day 2:
My toothbrush is still missing. I have obtained a backup brush for basic cleansing needs, but my expensive, fabulous, lovely sonic toothbrush is missing and I want that "teeth like glass, breath like kissing" feeling back again. Once you go sonic, you never have bad oral hygiene chronic. [Insert better slogan here].
I was reviewing "Queer Dharma: Voices of Gay Buddhists" (LEYLAND Winston Ed. 1998/2000, Gay Sunshine Press SF) and ran into the highly amusing "A Brief Practice of the Bodhisattva Malibubarbie" for the second time. Since this is a New Blog, I feel totally free to blather on about it as much as I'd ever like. While the entire book is a wonderful resource and full of poetry, short fiction, interviews with people who have the prefix "H. H. the..." prefixed to their name (i.e. His Highness), history, textual analysis & religious studies by famous scholars, I find that the one jewel which always brightens my day is this sadhana.
A sadhana is a ritual text that gives instructions on how to worship. Well, it's not worship per se: Buddhists are not theists in the way that outsiders understand, but the sadhana is meant to allow the practitioner to visualise a perfected being (buddha or other "divine being") and then merge their own self with the imaginary image. It's a way to practice consciousness awareness by invoking a separate image and then becoming this image.
So this sadhana, which is both a brilliant parody and somehow strangely moving, rocks my world.
In other notes, my cat is returning to normal. Two weeks of me being away made her a little unsane. My roomie reports she was crazy pissed: she shat on my bed, tore my room up, knocked all the books off the shelves etc. He had monitored her and my room while I was gone so it was clean when I got home but she was clearly direly distressed by my visit back to Rhode Island.
Since then she has been surgically attached to me, which is sweet. I feel bad she suffered when I was away but to take her with me would have been impossible for me and infinitely more traumatic for her. I'm trying to keep her as minimally neurotic as possible. She hasn't even made much of an effort to escape out the door; she sticks around where I am even when I leave the door open.
My neighbor is being an assmonkey. He is fucking nuts. He wrote this note in chalk on the ground about cigarette butts, which made my roommate berserk since the neighbor's stairs are covered with all kinds of stupid, garbage-y things: dead plants, old sponges, random junk: you get the idea. Meanwhile, my roomie, who smokes, places his butts carefully next to our door on our stairwell and then throws all of them away at once.
Not to mention that the neighbor is halftime really chatty and friendly: a big queen, bigger even than my roomie. So when he goes and switches onto superbitch and leaves weird notes, it's like, WHAT THE FUCK? What, is his meow broken? He could just say something if there is some real issue. Maybe he thinks some other butts are ours, but hey: there are a lot of people living in this large complex.
Man, on a final random note: fucking Neko Case, holy damn. Such a great voice. Beefheart Records, I believe.
WHERE IS MY BLOODY TOOTHBRUSH! The cat took it. I don't have an under-my-bed, so it can't be there. I didn't go out yesterday except to drop off my roomie at the airport and my friend was with me to attest that all I took with was my license and a dollar bill: he held them for me. It's not that big of an apartment, so where the hell is my toothbrush?
Gotta figure out about how to post pics. Maybe I'll get an account elsewhere with links.
posted by Unknown @ 13:53
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