Friday, September 17, 2004

As The Year Turns



Two one year anniversaries nearly coincide -- I nearly said collide -- in September. My blog anniversary, and the anniversary of my broken neck.

I still drive as if the malevolant vehicles in the oncoming lane -- all monster SUVs from hell with drunken cell-phone-yammering drivers -- were all about to veer and smash into into me.

When I turn my head left it makes a crisp ka-ch-chik sound. When I turn right, there's a little crepitant, sandpapery sound like hair rubbed between fingers. Queer little aural scars.

My blogs also have the textual equivalent of broken necks.

Anita Rust, DOB 9-20-03, began as a repository for poimz. Then Anita broke into a borrowed lament, crying, a la Hamlet, "words, words, words !" Then, even more dramatically, "voids, voids, voids." And now, abandoning the whole poitic arena for good -- for her and its own good -- Anita proclaims her new manifesto, "weeds, weeds, weeds." So be it. Plow the poems under. To fertilize the weeds.

The House of Toast, est. 9-24-03, remains under the same squinchy proprietorship. It has outsourced, for the time being, some of the transcendental stuff to the resident of the backyard hermitage, a neologic, ascetically unillustrated little hovel, Affiction.

This reeks of compartmentalization. Ear-Nose-Throat. Body-Mind-Spirit. Id-Ego-Superego. Breakfast-Lunch-Dinner. Name That Triune.

Freudianly speaking, I have always considered myself more of an hysteric than an obsessive. More oral than anal. This is the house of TOAST, after all, not the house, say, of prunes. But I have a deep streak of the neat freak about me. Ergo my voyeuristic fascination with the Daily Office and the Liturgical Year.

O blessed rage for order, pale Ramon.

See ?

I haven't done much meta-blogging.* I'm a little embarrassed to be blogging at all. I finally confessed to DK, my dear, patient husband, that I -- dieu forfend -- kept blogs. (Darling, I've been raising pirhanas in the basement, you don't mind, do you ?) He took it in stride. He's a tolerant man.

So is my triune Words Weeds and Voids ?


*This would be an example of meta-meta-blogging.







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