Friday, March 31, 2006

Amazing Race


Tuesday, March 28, 2006

Out of Africa

If I know a song of Africa,

of the giraffe

and the African new moon lying on her back,
of the plows in the fields
and the sweaty faces of the coffee pickers,

does Africa know a song of me?

Will the air over the plain quiver with a color that I have had on?

Will the children invent a game in which my name is?

Will the full moon throw a shadow over the gravel of the drive that was like me?

Will the eagles of the Ngong Hills look out for me?

Isak Dinesen
Out of Africa

Friday, March 24, 2006

Starbucks Cup #85

Grande latte
3/23/2006 9:30 pm Copley Starbucks on Boylston
3/24/2006 7:55 am Beth Israel Deaconess Hospital

The Way I See It #85
Let go you sorrow.
Let go your blues.
Coz I know tomorrow
is yesterday's news.
Let go your sadness,
give up the fight,
follow your madness
and take flight...take flight.
Musician. His songs can be heard
on Starbucks Hear Music station,
XM Satellite Radio Channel 75.

Thursday, March 23, 2006


Xcalibur: ok listen to my talk for a young girl
Xcalibur: honey the human body is amazing
Xcalibur: it regulates itself
Xcalibur: part of god's design
Xcalibur: every 28 days or so
Xcalibur: females
Xcalibur: that are capable of bearing children
Xcalibur: their body has a process that regulates itself
Xcalibur: ha ha
Xcalibur: and it is a very special thing
Xcalibur: as it marks the road to womanhood
Xcalibur: and the ability to reproduce
Xcalibur: this better not end up on a blog
Xcalibur: I think that's pretty good for a man
wildorchid: you have no idea
wildorchid: hahahahahah
wildorchid: yes it is
wildorchid: here is what my talk would be:
wildorchid: so every 28 days ya ovulate ok?
wildorchid: and so your body is tricky and it's like "ooh an egg! maybe if there is an egg there will be BABIES! I must prepare"
wildorchid: so it builds a little lining. Kind of like a bed with lots of covers if you will, and waits. Then finally the body realized that there is no sperm, thus no baby, so it's like "well this is a waste of my time"
wildorchid: so the lining sheds itself
wildorchid: and just to be extra bitchy and pissed off that you didn't fertilize that egg like you were SUPPOSED to
wildorchid: you get cramps, bloating, stomach upsets, headaches, tender boobs and mood swings. wildorchid: but you know what?
wildorchid: no one better be fertlizing that damn egg until you are MARRIED girl!
wildorchid: Cause PMS is bad, but what I give you if you get pregnant will be worse
wildorchid: oh, and congratulations, you are now a woman
wildorchid: hahahaha
wildorchid: hmm maybe you should talk to the kids, hahaha

Tuesday, March 14, 2006


"I have nothing. I work in the fields every day. But I am so happy with this life. There is so much color."
-Indian woman outside Agra, as said to Anne Goddard, chief of staff, CARE
and featured in this month's O Magazine.

Maasai Women Singing

Xcalibur: but your blog is you
Xcalibur: a human being
wildorchid: thanks
Xcalibur: not a lets educate the world
wildorchid: i am a girl not a fem-bot
Xcalibur: LOL

Monday, March 13, 2006

self-realizations on a plane

So I went to Virginia this weekend to visit my sister, which was AMAZING and maybe I will write about that later. Right now I have to write about some things I realized the other day, mostly while flying home, though one I realized while on the can last night, but I can't remember it right now. I was taking a pee and thought of it, like I had this epiphany on the john, but how epiphanic could it possibly be if I've forgotten it? eh, perhaps I will remember.

Realization 1: The Atlantic Ocean is my favorite because it just is. I think it is the best ocean and no one will ever be able to convince me otherwise. I have met West Coasters who like to get into that exhausting argument about which ocean is the best and they go on and on about the Pacific. Now I've seen the Pacific. I've stood in the Pacific. Been on a boat in the Pacific. I know it's beautiful and like most oceans, has a sense of mystery and magic surrounding it. But I have had time to observe the Atlantic. It's what I know well (not the entire Atlantic, I have to add, though I doubt that the west coasters have had time to study the entire Pacific, so to me this argument is all relative) and I like it. The Atlantic ocean changes colors and moods and can do so quickly. I've rarely, except for the early, early morning on windless summer days, seen it placid. It is bitchy and angry and it moves violently if it wants. It consumes things, boats and people, unforgivingly in these massive swells and walls of water. It is feared and loved simultaneously. I'm sure this is also true of the Pacific, but I am not sure. I know they have big waves, bigger than east coast waves, you know, good enough to surf upon. and I know that in certain parts of the Atlantic touched by the gulf stream the water is warm and tropical and clear and still. But in this argument I am only talking about MY Atlantic Ocean. And it's not placid or clear or turquoise and it's certainly not warm. It's roiling, it's dark and cloudy and holds lots of secrets, it's green and blue and gray and it's freezing most of the time, unless it's so hot here that it stops mattering what temperature the ocean is, life on land has become so unbearable that people march out into the sea seeking relief even in the coldest of water. Maybe this whole spiel is just silly. But I don't care. I don't care if it's just one girl's opinion either. It's my opinion and it only needs to matter to me. The Pacific has lots to offer. But the Atlantic, that's my ocean. The ocean that I've swum in more times than I could ever count. The ocean that I go to when I need just a little peace and quiet or just need a change of scenery or a place to ponder the vastness of the world by looking unobstructedly eastward to the horizon meeting the sea and nothing in between. It's the ocean I fly over, no matter which way I'm coming from, when I come home. It's the one I see every day on my way to work as I cross the Neponset River and follow it down into the harbor. It's the most beautiful to me. Keep your waves and your warm water, give me the bitchy Atlantic, thank you very much.

Realization 2: Sometimes I really hate my species. In general, I love people. Ok, maybe that's an overstatement. In general, I like people and I love LOVE certain people. I think humans are amazing and there are acts of selflessness and compassion and brilliance etc that amaze me every day and make me happy to be a human living on Earth. The end.
Then I see such rudeness and unkindness and insensitivity that it makes my head want to spin around like that little kid on the Exorcist. grrrrr. 1. Lack of self-constraint and respect for each other in public. Why do you have to PUSH me when I'm in your way? Why do you have to cut me in line? Why do you have to sigh and be all passive aggressive when I am in your way when you could just say "excuse me, I am trying to get by." No, I do not want to overhear your very loud phone conversation on the train. 2. Lack of respect for personal space. This is touchy. Sometimes, personal space preservation is completely impossible. I totally understand. But a lot of times, even in crowds, you can allow people a modicum of personal space. Why do you have to repeatedly grab the headrest of my seat on an airplane? Why do you have to stand on the subway in such a way that I feel your entire frontal section in gruesome detail against my back? Why do you have to stand with your ass in my face? Why do you choose to stand or sit RIGHT next to me on a subway car/train/platform/bus, etc, when the ENTIRE place is empty? On the other hand, I think it's so rude to take up an empty seat with your bags and packages, when someone else on the bus/train etc, needs that space. 3. Why doesn't anyone follow the rules any more? When I went to the National Zoo this weekend, every single rule posted there, was broken. "No banging on the glass" the glass was covered with fingerprints and small children tapping on the glass while their parents looked on talking about how cute little Jimmy was. "The animals in this exhibit are shy and sensitive. Please keep your voice down." I saw children and adults alike breaking this one "MMOOOOOOOOOOOOOOMMM LOOK AT THE RARE ENDANGERED GOLDEN CRESTED SPIDER EATING EAGLE" The bird has like, a minor heart attack and flutters around it's little habitat. "JIM OH JIM COME QUICK THE WOLVES ARE OUT OF THE DEN!! Billy, run and get daddy! JIM!!!! JIIIIIIIIIIMMMMMMMMM" A few times my sister and I were like "WTF?!!!!???!?!" At the cheetah exhibit, the caretakers were explaining about how the cats need there exercise and there were all these people there going "wha? huh? what's he saying? the cheetahs WHA?" A few times I said quietly "maybe if you shut the fuck up you would know what was going on" argh. Frustrating. Plus in the apehouse, that was the worst place of all. There was a whole sign "Apes are scared when you stare at them. Approach them with your back turned. Do not tap on glass. Do not raise your voice. Do not startle apes" We were in that place for about 10 seconds before I saw every single rule broken. That's when I sped through the exhibit and was out the exit door. No more I thought. These apes, I thought, could behave and are behaving better than 90% of the humans I've seen today, and we're looking at them in a zoo? hahhaahha if anyone should be on display, it should be THE RULE BREAKERS.

Realization 3 (this morning). Instead of fining a$$hole drivers, they should be given a test. Now this is only for people who drive aggressively/with road rage. Once they are pulled over, they should be made to roll the window down. The amount of their fine should then be divided by 10. Take that number and find that many cars. Have each car drive by the offender and shout insults at them, kind of like I did today when I saw an aggressive driver who had passed me 10 minutes before pulled over by the state police. With the window up, I turned towards him and screamed, literally scream "THAT'S WHAT YOU GET FOR DRIVING LIKE A DICK" and moved along. Now. If you have a $250 fine looming ahead, but you can sit through and tolerate 25 insults hurled at you, then you get off with just a warning. If you only make it through 10 insults before you crack, then you get $150 fine. I think it's a brilliant idea, but there are definitely problems associated with that type of punishment, I am sure. Ha.
I think I need to stop this rant.

AHHAHHAHA sometimes blogging is so fun. I know that so few people will read this and I can go on and on ranting in my own special and insane way :D silly me.

The reason why I have been irrationally depressed lately: NOT ENOUGH SUNLIGHT

I learned today at a nutritional conference that between November -April in this part of the country no amount of sunlight great or small will allow your body to produce vitamin D. So I'm probably not getting enough. Which leads to sadness and badness. I mean sometimes, not like, all the time. So one goal: take my vitamins with vitamin D!

Wednesday, March 08, 2006

Starbucks Cup #77, Beth Israel Deaconess Boston

a totally necessary second latte of the day

The Way I See It #77
the human catalysts for
"dreamers are the teacher and
encouragers that "dreamers"
encounter throughout their lives.
They are invaluable in the quest
to turn ideas into reality. So
here's a special thanks to all of
the teachers - especially my
teacher, Miz Lane!
--Kevin Carroll
"Katalyst" and author of Rules of
the Red Rubber Ball: Find and
Sustain Your Life's Work."
In the spirit of the cup, I'll take a minute to thank my teachers (just elementary school today, I started with middle, it got way too long):
Preschool: Mrs. Bass, Mrs. Lelliott, and Mrs Whitaker. You took me to the farm, which was awesome. I made exciting crafts with you, including a fruit loop necklace, back when fruit loops only came in 3 colors! Amy ate most of it on a car ride to New Hampshire, but the point was I had fun making it. Also all those craft projects that included either pasta or dying things or bits of fabric. They absolutely molded my childhood. Between you and my mom, I became a craft whore.
Kindergarten: Mrs. Schoman. You were just about the nicest lady ever. Though it would be illegal to do so now, I loved it when I did something really well and I got a hug from you. You also did a lot of cool things that other teachers didn't do, like have our classmate Peter tell us all about having leukemia, and having a blind lady come in and teach with you, showing us that she was no different than anybody else. Also, I loved learning the shapes, and how we always had to color in a shape and then cut it out, paste on arms and legs and give it a name and stuff like that. Also, you helped me to start combatting my shyness when we sang the alphabet song for the end of the year "finale." I still remember "L is the lovelight in your eyes"
First Grade: Miss Harrison. You were a totaly nazi and scared the crap out of so many kids. I am so glad I got on your good side from the start, because underneath the scariness you were hilariously funny, something which I didnt' really realize until I got older and understood adult humor. You really taught me to read, which was so cool! You taught me to spell well too, and some fundamental math. You taught me about cheating too, a concept I didn't understand until I got to your class, asked a friend during a spelling test what word you had just said and had you storm down the aisle and rip up my test. I think you felt bad later, not realizing what I had been asking. I know you thought I had potential too, something I learned later. Also, the Flag Day thing, well it was DA BOMB!
Second Grade: Ms. Cashell. You were nice teacher, very patient. I don't remember a ton of second grade vividly, mostly just the fact that we had 4 mikes in our class. I know you taught me more complex math stuff, like carrying, which I thought was like, the most mind bending crazy ass thing I had ever seen in my life. I was like "woahhhh duuudue you carry the one to the tens column? far out" So that was awesome.
Third Grade: Ms. R. Doherty. I liked you because you were a cool lady. You were very mysterious to all of us students. You were a little older and unmarried and mysterious. Every holiday we made the best crafts too, like the giant posterboard black cats for Halloween. You let someone bring puppies into the classroom once too. You taught the year of the gulf war and had us write letters and send care packages to the troops, which was really cool. I got to meet both of my penpals that year when they returned to the US. You were always printing banners on the computer, so we could color them in and give them to people who needed a little cheering up. I remember once you gave me the responsibility to color in a get well banner for someone who needed a boost. I had to color it in with "pastels and soft colors" and I remember you were very pleased with the neatness of the whole project. I also have a book you gave me and inscribed with your calligraphic handwriting.
Fourth Grade: Mr. Smith. Mr Smith was the greatest teacher. He really challenged me and I think under his guidance and demand for the highest performance I became the person I am today. He was a disciplinarian and he was hardcore, but he was one of the greats. He really got me interested in Science at this point in time, and he was always doing great things like taking us on a whale watch, unwinding the string in a baseball to see how long it was, pushing us to do creative writing and extra credit projects or playing the dictionary game. Plus he recognized the fact that we were not too old to enjoy being read to, and read us among other things, "The Indian in the Cupboard." Shoutout to Mrs. Cripps (math) who did speed tests and made me love math and made her husband come into the school to set up his teepee and teach us about native american life and Ms. Hickey (english) who made me love reading and writing even more.

Tuesday, March 07, 2006

Starbucks Cup #52, Beth Israel Deaconess Hospital

(a totally necessary venti latte)

The Way I see It #52
True story: Recently I eavesdropped
on a conversation between two
twenty-something employees at a
local Starbucks. I listened as the
barista mused about his taste in
music. Then the cashier asked
him if he had ever heard the song
"Strawberry Fields Forever." After
a pause, the barista answered,
"No, can't say I ever heard that
one before." That's when I knew
there really was such a thing
as a generation gap.
--Mary Chapin Carpenter
Grammy award-winning singer-
songwriter. Her songs can be heard
on Starbucks Hear Music station,
XM Satellite Radio Channel 75.
I do not call the above the "generation gap." I call it SACRILEGE!!!!!!!!!!! Strawberry Fields Forever, while it may not be the most famous Beatles song by any means, is a classic!
Living is easy with eyes closed
Misunderstanding all you see
It's getting hard to be someone but it all works out
It doesn't matter much to me
Let me take you down cause I'm going toooooooooooooo
Strawberry fields
Nothing is real
and nothing to get hung about
Strawberry fields forever

Monday, March 06, 2006


My friend Melissa had a birthday over the weekend and I was so excited I could finally send the picture I created for her so many months ago. This one was particularly enjoyable to make. I got to work with hand-dyed threads on this one....normally, I wouldn't make an entire picture out of hand-dyed threads because they can be a little pricey ($2.00/ skein or thereabouts) so when a pattern calls for a color and you are only making 10 stitches, I am not gonna spend extra for those three stitches and I will just convert to regular old DMC thread. In this case, as I usually do for gifts, I went all out and purchased all the colors hand-dyed, and the effect was rather nice. I also bought the fabric recommended on the pattern. I then bought an unfinished frame. I knew I wouldn't be able to find the one I wanted already made, so I bought an unfinished one and two shades of green paint, one light one dark, to compliment the stitching. I first used the light paint on the frame, then put some crackle medium over that, then followed up with the dark. The result (after the second try) was quite satisfactory, and the dark paint crackled nicely, allowing the light to show through.

Anyways, that's been done for a while and I've been doing other projects. I'm caught up with birthdays for a while I think. Right now I am working on a baby shower gift for my boyfriend's coworker, a baby sweater, which is nearly done. I just have the sleeves and some fringe work to do, but the fringe is enough to drive a girl insane. It's really not fringe, but knitted lace, and the pattern is cracked out. Of course the book I'm using is British, so stuff that makes sense to them, makes absolutely no sense to me. The good think is is that I am so close to being done, not much could discourage me at this point, so I just have to master the fringe and knit it and be done with it. After that it's more baby gifts, this time for my sister's teacher and family friend who's having twin girls (we're each gonna do a picture) and then graduation gifts for my Smithies. Then I think there shall be a time of rest. Then of course, there's my sister's birthday, a friend's wedding, my old roommate's birthday, and my cousin's wedding. hahahah it's insanity on a stick.

Friday, March 03, 2006

Starbucks Cup #76, Beth Israel Deaconess, Boston

The Way I see It # 76
The irony of commitment is that
it's deeply liberating - in work, in
play, in love. The act frees you
from the tyranny of your internal
critic, from the fear that likes to
dress itself up and parade around
as rational hesitation. To commit is
to remove your head as the barrier
to your life.
--Anne Morriss
Starbucks customer from New York City.
She describes herself as an "organization
builder, restless American citizen,