tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-47328227259645764112011-08-05T09:48:16.047-07:00My name is Pema. Life runs away with me sometimes. And "Daily" is a state of mind.Pemahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13322572518468324244noreply@blogger.comBlogger4171100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4732822725964576411.post-81712629676462149272010-05-25T09:40:00.000-07:002011-08-05T09:48:16.104-07:00

Identity discovered. Follow along on Story Charmer. It's the Bench and more.(Post title is linked to the new site.)xo

Pemahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13322572518468324244noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4732822725964576411.post-91649672564602976912009-12-26T10:59:00.000-08:002009-12-26T11:13:42.227-08:00

Hi Folks, I'm having an identity crisis. I started this blog way back when to practice public writing. Being out there, getting out there with what I think, how I write. It was a personal challenge then, to be open and naked on the park bench. Then I went freelance, started selling my name and my services, and all over again, I weigh my personal stories and observations against what I "should" or

Pemahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13322572518468324244noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4732822725964576411.post-54519809538309196622009-12-25T09:56:00.000-08:002009-12-27T10:07:41.403-08:00

Hey Guess What.The very cool entrepreneur of Upstart Smart, Amber Singleton-Riviere, interviewed 26 women entrepreneurs, and included me in her e-Book, One Entrepreneur's Journey: 26 Stories from Women on the Road.Check it out.

Pemahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13322572518468324244noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4732822725964576411.post-53743597752898157882009-11-11T09:05:00.000-08:002009-12-26T15:27:08.331-08:00

Today is my step-mom's birthday. We don't generally get along. Or rather...maybe we don't specifically get along, but do okay as long as we keep it general. In honor of Mom's bday, here's a specific memory that keeps floating in like a recurring dream. When I was little, I liked to watch her put on her make-up. I would sit on the toilet seat lid while she stood at the vanity and put mascara on

Pemahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13322572518468324244noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4732822725964576411.post-34012774292024819382009-11-08T13:47:00.000-08:002009-11-08T14:04:28.274-08:00

This song is arresting. I was following the packall swallowed in their coatswith scarves of red tied ’round their throatsto keep their little headsfrom fallin’ in the snowAnd I turned ’round and there you goAnd, Michael, you would falland turn the white snow red as strawberriesin the summertimeOriginal by Fleet Foxes. Any way you hear it, holy cow:"Everything is transitory. Still, every thing is."

Pemahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13322572518468324244noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4732822725964576411.post-80751361609154753412009-11-06T16:13:00.001-08:002009-11-06T16:14:07.929-08:00

Pemahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13322572518468324244noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4732822725964576411.post-17233339752423636752009-11-04T12:50:00.001-08:002009-11-04T13:02:40.757-08:00

I'm in the business of interviews. Often, I record calls with clients, then transcribe them to work with the content. Today's Realization: I like hearing my voice on a recording. Outside of me. Speaking at a time when my own attached mouth is no longer moving. I like to listen to myself talk. It reassures me that I exist. I guess it's like looking in a mirror to see where I stand, what I'm

Pemahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13322572518468324244noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4732822725964576411.post-38413274106784458962009-11-02T18:23:00.000-08:002009-11-02T18:32:11.304-08:00

REGINA: Do you have any snacks?(Opens fridge. Looks at PEMA. Laughs.)PEMA: Augi opens that and says, "You're not like any woman I've ever met."REGINA: Doesn't he know? You're part dude!*

Pemahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13322572518468324244noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4732822725964576411.post-88946459346408977542009-10-18T14:41:00.000-07:002009-10-18T14:44:21.205-07:00

Pemahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13322572518468324244noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4732822725964576411.post-2738938792682423892009-10-07T15:37:00.000-07:002009-10-07T16:01:49.295-07:00

Ye olde break-up and ye olde therapist have had me circled by events past, so much so that I don't know which way to turn to transform them. Ye olde writing teacher says that you have to create chaos in your story so that it can then be ordered. In recent weeks, when I turn to what I know to order chaos in my current life story, I see a shadow or a skeleton looming at me, saying, "wanna fix that?

Pemahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13322572518468324244noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4732822725964576411.post-2025279537502823932009-10-02T13:43:00.000-07:002009-10-02T13:54:20.094-07:00

My first trip to San Francisco, I was 19 and found a 1st ed. The Fountainhead, by Ayn Rand. I was blissed out at a coffee bar, belly-up and as far from suburbia as I had ever been. A guy asked me what I got. I held the book in its thin paper bag like it was my dead mother's last possession, recently unearthed. I was embarrassed to tell him it was Ayn Rand, San Francisco being such a liberal city,

Pemahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13322572518468324244noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4732822725964576411.post-26088455909981007332009-09-16T12:22:00.000-07:002009-09-16T12:30:34.543-07:00

I read this in a newsletter sent by author and energy psychologist, Gloria Arenson. Funny timing. Yesterday my therapist sang me the last sentence in the passage. I didn't even have to pay extra for the singing. I'm thinking of asking him to do some singing telegrams for a select few people on my list. Life Is A GameMy five year-old grand-daughter likes to play Chutes and Ladders. As I was

Pemahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13322572518468324244noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4732822725964576411.post-54892117675418135412009-09-15T09:39:00.000-07:002009-09-15T09:47:14.638-07:00

I knew a guy who woke up and steeped six bags of Earl Grey in his first cup of tea. And then three more in his second. Daily. I wanted to give him a bottle of bergamot and some caffeine tablets so he could eat them in a paste.

Pemahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13322572518468324244noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4732822725964576411.post-60904221107526865192009-09-14T13:09:00.000-07:002009-09-15T09:47:52.304-07:00

I'm looking at my blog's cast of characters thinking it's time to change it again. I don't write about Allen, the guy I dated a minute, anymore. Grams makes the blog a fair amount, but Nico is so far away, and Suzy. I'm afraid if I move them from the cast list, I will be sad. And my cast will be really small. I don't write small cast productions. I write really really big ones, and then get asked

Pemahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13322572518468324244noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4732822725964576411.post-5329570965887904712009-09-11T11:40:00.000-07:002009-09-11T15:52:24.723-07:00

Remembering 9/11 on 9/11.Woody Allen made a short for Concert for NY, a free show at Madison Square Garden for NY's emergency and civic workers, and families of those who died in the attacks. Love letter in a time of loss.

Pemahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13322572518468324244noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4732822725964576411.post-4136760371431936902009-09-04T09:49:00.000-07:002009-09-04T10:16:15.567-07:00

You know how it's all exciting when you have a new boyfriend, and you go around saying, my new boyfriend this and my new boyfriend that? Yeah. Me not so much either. I don't know if I ever said, "My new boyfriend." In any case, I do have a new ex. Today, as it stands. For the sake of conversation. I do. And that makes him all new again. My new ex this and my new ex that. Ohmigod! Y'know?So,

Pemahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13322572518468324244noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4732822725964576411.post-86449460336586051312009-09-02T14:58:00.000-07:002009-09-02T15:09:39.590-07:00

Geoffrey Smith, director of "The English Surgeon," says the purpose of the brain surgery patient being awake during surgery is to be the last valve of safety, to save themselves, potentially, from the doctor inadvertently slicing away "1968," in other words, slicing away whole swaths of memories. Awake. Save your memories. Save what you know. And others of us so willing to give them away in order

Pemahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13322572518468324244noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4732822725964576411.post-53726096656800373752009-09-02T12:23:00.000-07:002009-09-02T14:29:14.912-07:00

Been thinking about truth. Trust. Honesty. Lies. The absolute need for some of us to have the absolute truth. I've always said I'm best with information. Just give it to me. Wondering if my need for the truth, always the WHAT HAPPENED? is me depending on others to make decisions for me: If I can trust you completely, I can make solid moves in my life, based on what you've said. If I can't trust

Pemahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13322572518468324244noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4732822725964576411.post-82210916005540226342009-08-31T21:57:00.000-07:002009-08-31T22:05:03.401-07:00

Power animal—Chameleonby Amy Katz, MA— www.schooloflivingdreams.comThe power animal for September is the chameleon....Subtle shifts in physiology, emotions, climate and camouflage-needs can cause the cells of this sensitive-skinned reptilian to alter pigmentation. It is both a joy and an amazement to see them turn from brown to green, yellow to blue and back again...he proves that our bodies are

Pemahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13322572518468324244noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4732822725964576411.post-65095151184122537432009-08-31T21:41:00.000-07:002009-08-31T21:45:11.740-07:00

Course 1: Chocolate pudding Course 2: Corn chips and salsaCourse 3: Corn chips and hummusBachelor(ette) living.

Pemahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13322572518468324244noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4732822725964576411.post-37216886359973043952009-08-30T21:14:00.000-07:002009-08-30T21:20:35.178-07:00

Homemade chicken soup. Night music from KCRW.com.And patience. A whole hell of a lot of it, asking me to have perspective, because who knows what's to come? Ever?Healthy. Sane. Housed. Employed. Fed. Loved. Life is good.And Pollyanna grew up to be my Grandma. That shit is genetic.

Pemahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13322572518468324244noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4732822725964576411.post-5503126764428767342009-08-26T23:35:00.000-07:002009-08-26T23:44:09.377-07:00

While u hear silence, I hear my ears ringing and traffic out my window on the 405. It doesn't stop. Nor does the ringing. Indiscretions in tact and one more thing in my ears: Your silence will not protect you. -Adrienne Rich

Pemahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13322572518468324244noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4732822725964576411.post-47546549149764406502009-08-25T21:58:00.000-07:002009-08-25T22:03:52.787-07:00

I'm at a bar.After indiscretions have been made. Not by me. Tally ho, motherfucker.

Pemahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13322572518468324244noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4732822725964576411.post-33770537445880946002009-08-24T12:58:00.000-07:002009-08-24T13:18:52.237-07:00

Coming up on a year here in Portland. I arrived Sept 7 last year. I'm finally feeling inklings of settling in, feeling like everything is not new anymore...even the ways that I think. When I've felt anxious about being new here, still unsettled, I have remembered people saying it takes a year to get used to a place. To feel at home. A different friend said otherwise yesterday. He said, "

Pemahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13322572518468324244noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4732822725964576411.post-2132573177839417752009-08-21T08:09:00.000-07:002009-08-21T08:23:05.706-07:00

8:09am and so far a few distractions. The beeping outside my window at 7am. What the? I went outside for a walk to check it out and discovered it is temporary. Two guys on an airlift, prepping the building next door for paint. In parts of my neighborhood, there are garage doors that sound off a nerve-wracking beeping every time a car goes through. Imagine living above that? I had to go scout the

Pemahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13322572518468324244noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4732822725964576411.post-18022039523775220112009-08-20T09:21:00.000-07:002009-08-20T09:44:26.774-07:00

How does that happen? Yesterday was the first day in the week I had any energy, and it was busy enough to feel like a Monday.I have been toying with creative work hours, feeling guilty about the relaxed nature of mine, even though they usually extend into the wee hours of moon in midheaven. But guilty nonetheless about how much more productive I would be waking up at 6, rushing around to get fed

Pemahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13322572518468324244noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4732822725964576411.post-7957176284961419682009-08-17T00:40:00.000-07:002009-08-17T00:48:04.095-07:00

Pemahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13322572518468324244noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4732822725964576411.post-62392206250975222562009-08-14T12:02:00.000-07:002009-08-14T12:10:18.037-07:00

Pemahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13322572518468324244noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4732822725964576411.post-34924397128095913102009-08-12T07:47:00.000-07:002009-08-12T07:47:00.832-07:00

PEMA: My boyfriend is a real sweetheart. GRANDMA: You better hold onto him. We eat a few bites and stare off into space. GRANDMA: Good friends are good to have. - - - - -On nature's monthly arriving the day of my 20 year HS reunion...GRANDMA: I'm sorry that had to happen to you today. PEMA: I'm glad it happened at all. GRANDMA: Well, you weren't expecting it not to, were you?PEMA: No. But I'm

Pemahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13322572518468324244noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4732822725964576411.post-41477542945583031772009-08-11T00:01:00.000-07:002009-08-14T12:27:33.178-07:00

Some of the reunion people were perplexed at my name change. Name changes on the weird-o-meter are relative. My grandma thinks "Pema" is the strangest thing she's ever heard. Newer friends think my given name, "Heather," misses the mark. I think "Pema" is nothing compared to the judge's son I once met who changed his name to "Fire Penguin Disco Panda."

Pemahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13322572518468324244noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4732822725964576411.post-24712503342082984892009-08-10T15:02:00.000-07:002009-08-14T12:25:28.014-07:00

I've decided high school reunions are an important tribal ritual. Last weekend, hundreds of us walked into the reunion oo-ing and awe-ing, greeting after 20 years and laughing over how so many of us looks exactly the same. Then, someone turned on the reunion video, which was a video that was taken our senior year, for the purpose of playing at the reunion. Oh my God. We were 17. A bunch of those

Pemahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13322572518468324244noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4732822725964576411.post-15516552286978341102009-08-06T22:11:00.001-07:002009-08-06T22:19:37.750-07:00

Rob's my brother. Sue's his wife. Last visit I made, they were building a 2-story addition to the back of their little bungalow. Garage on the bottom, bedroom on the top. Three months later, the single finished feature is the upstairs toilet, which they have lovingly given two names:The Think TankandThe Poop Tower.

Pemahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13322572518468324244noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4732822725964576411.post-54466437872445487722009-08-03T19:15:00.000-07:002009-08-03T19:22:07.305-07:00

On the toilet, on the phone, head in hand, trying to express in words how long the day has been. It's apparent I'm finding better success peeing than talking: "My eyes are so...dry they're like...sandkittens in my...forehead."*

Pemahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13322572518468324244noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4732822725964576411.post-74525219914629361972009-08-02T12:27:00.000-07:002009-08-02T13:00:21.349-07:00

Can you believe I'm still deciding whether or not to go to my 20 year high school reunion? It requires a two-day drive there and a two-day drive back. Which requires I decide by Tuesday, as my departure day would be Wed. My reservation? All that. Plus the cash it would take to do it all and the time away from work.My compulsion? To show up. I was so shy and isolated for so long in my life, I

Pemahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13322572518468324244noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4732822725964576411.post-53396370322262636102009-07-30T23:12:00.000-07:002009-07-30T23:40:20.872-07:00

You were crying in front of Keybank Tower - m4w (downtown)You were over by the bikes (rather than in front of Spicy Pickle). I was wearing a blue, buttoned short sleeve shirt and carrying a book. I doubt you'll see this, but if somehow you do, I want another chance to ask if you're OK. Include your hair color and the color of the shirt you were wearing so I'll know it was you. Cute guy with a 2:

Pemahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13322572518468324244noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4732822725964576411.post-2282754040894522632009-07-29T19:51:00.000-07:002009-07-29T20:49:37.664-07:00

Speaking of money and getting personal (weren't we?), I made a big breakthrough in therapy today. I'm so happy to be in therapy again. It's been a lot of years since the last bout, and sanity is worth the investment. The absolutely glorious thing, is that therapy is not just sanity-inducing, it's personal growth. Big fat life lessons learned, with the perspective of somebody outside my head,

Pemahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13322572518468324244noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4732822725964576411.post-56972615281434327092009-07-27T17:07:00.000-07:002009-07-27T17:26:45.362-07:00

Money makes the mood go up, the mood go up, the mood go up.Money makes the mood go up, the mood! go! up!Was walking and driving around, composing today's blog post in my head. Watching my mood sway with anxiety, resolve, encouragement, anxiety, resolve, thinking it'll be one of those deep days, posting about my internal life. My bench on the inside. I started a new writing schedule today, and I

Pemahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13322572518468324244noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4732822725964576411.post-42718833317732478442009-07-26T23:21:00.000-07:002009-07-26T23:27:49.813-07:00

My blog is doing something weird. It won't let me comment on my own posts. Sorry, friendlies, to whom I would like to comment back. I'll look into that. In the meantime, thanks for reading and commenting.It's 40 minutes before my birthday. Late night, dark and warm, make that really warm, with a breeze that's kind of thick. Humid. The kind that opens you up and gets you all nostalgic for what

Pemahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13322572518468324244noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4732822725964576411.post-133566497967279392009-07-23T12:04:00.000-07:002009-07-23T23:28:51.544-07:00

The month of July has potentially seen the most transformative days in a row of my whole adult life. I could be wrong. I have had some swerves and misses. Some direct hits. My friend/boss died in a plane wreck. I moved to another state. I left 15 years of day-jobbing to leap into doing bizness for myself.But two weeks ago I peed on a stick and turned it the faintest shade of blue. It was so light

Pemahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13322572518468324244noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4732822725964576411.post-58555132108188906842009-07-20T23:56:00.000-07:002009-07-21T00:50:03.446-07:00

In the interest of word game addictions, have you tried this one?freericeI think I've posted it here before, but, my, is it evil in the best of ways.What's your high score?Or better put, how many people did you feed with your addictive behavior today?

Pemahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13322572518468324244noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4732822725964576411.post-34340795545376779592009-07-19T20:05:00.000-07:002009-07-19T20:12:53.842-07:00

wow, you guys are good.you inspired me...pupu incense = 1,620rickshaw trollop = 1,910niggle swarthy = 2,680

Pemahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13322572518468324244noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4732822725964576411.post-57614777902038524002009-07-18T23:14:00.000-07:002009-07-18T23:21:35.311-07:00

mink bikini = 34,300milk biscuit = 4,320,000silk sangria = 2,200,000bilk bourgeoisie = 14,000my friend, lisa, plays a party game on google. the gist is to enter the two words that generate the least amount of hits. try it. log your best shot here. 

Pemahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13322572518468324244noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4732822725964576411.post-57428452225546291712009-07-17T12:23:00.000-07:002009-07-17T12:36:32.469-07:00

Leave it to my lesbian friends to raise a rooster named Mathilda, and a hen that crows.Mathilda the boy chicken is not such an uncommon development. It's hard to tell what sex those fuzzy little chicks are when they pop out of the eggs. When you get them home and growing in their little box, and then coop, you just gotta keep your eye, and ear, open for tell tale signs that your hen is becoming a

Pemahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13322572518468324244noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4732822725964576411.post-40869697590499595822009-07-16T22:30:00.000-07:002009-07-16T22:52:30.875-07:00

When I lived in New York, I had a lot of surreal experiences. Like the time I walked past a huge advert pic of a swimming pool and actually smelled chlorinated water on hot cement. And that first week I was there in that raucous loud city, seeing a homeless, deaf teenager, and imagining what NYC would be like without sound...I think it would be like being under water.And there was the time I saw

Pemahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13322572518468324244noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4732822725964576411.post-10147048432958681022009-07-15T23:22:00.000-07:002009-07-15T23:33:27.606-07:00

A: Hey I think I can select my iPhone apps with my nipple. I'm gonna try it.B: What? It should work. It's warm. Maybe I can take a picture with my Johnson.A: Oh, it's working!B: I just took a picture of my leg. I'm going to send it to you.(beat)B: Oh my God, I'm scrolling through my pictures with my Johnson. Wait. Check your email."Penis Poems"K sZG blogDougStleTyped by my Tip*

Pemahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13322572518468324244noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4732822725964576411.post-55233505190204352452009-07-14T10:24:00.000-07:002009-07-14T10:37:37.902-07:00

My brother has three nearly grown kids and some variation of a constant question whenever I see him:"When are you gonna have kids?"Or, "Why don't you go get some seeds?"Or, "Isn't your clock gonna explode soon? Get all rusty and freeze up on you?"Eloquence runs in my family. Kids don't. Out of 5 adult siblings, only 2 of us have procreated. I'm not one of them. My mantras: I *think* I want kids.

Pemahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13322572518468324244noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4732822725964576411.post-31049192853303880632009-07-11T21:16:00.000-07:002009-07-12T00:56:50.087-07:00

Been okay. But tonight I'm a girl. A regular girl the kind I always wondered about who loved "Dirty Dancing" and swooned over boys and babies. Everywhere I look are couples aging and sophistcated on a Saturday night, young and cute in the giddy twilight. And everytime I hold back tears. Tears! Are threatening my eyes and slipping down my throat. I force myself into the street into a bar with a

Pemahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13322572518468324244noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4732822725964576411.post-41318702226215158402009-07-10T13:55:00.000-07:002009-07-10T13:57:56.534-07:00

Pemahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13322572518468324244noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4732822725964576411.post-65461311634456464722009-07-09T15:32:00.000-07:002009-07-09T15:53:08.421-07:00

My boyfriend and I broke up yesterday.My HS reunion is in a few weeks. To go or not to go.Kittens slept on my head last night. I just woke up from a three-hour nap. Window washers dangled outside my 10th floor apt today, adept as spiders.Yesterday I was angrier than I have been in a really long time. Like maybe ever. Anger is cumulative over years and bursts open like a storm cloud. I am the same

Pemahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13322572518468324244noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4732822725964576411.post-71397350857849445212009-07-07T18:21:00.000-07:002009-07-07T18:27:13.083-07:00

My eyes have an office-y ache and a laptoppy strain. But success was found on my new scanner today. Even though I failed at the fax.

Pemahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13322572518468324244noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4732822725964576411.post-39445709157276496342009-07-06T09:40:00.000-07:002009-07-06T10:35:07.096-07:00

What can be attributed to this ICK? I woke up and before I even opened my eyes, I hated my apartment. I loathed where it is located, isolated at the end of my block. I regretted the home improvements I made last weekend, and couldn't believe I bought that ugly little table and chairs. It disrupts everything with its wicker cuteness and caramel-colored brightness infecting my apartment's darker

Pemahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13322572518468324244noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4732822725964576411.post-80990603158148153562009-07-05T09:01:00.001-07:002009-07-05T09:11:51.465-07:00

I missed yesterday's post!I was independent of the blog while celebrating our country's independence. Now, a lot could be debated about what our country and its individuals are independent from--or not--these days. Oil? A crazy craving to always be buying something? Debt, and the Industrial Revolution hours it makes one keep?But systemically, ritually, we are free. And a lotta folks work to keep

Pemahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13322572518468324244noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4732822725964576411.post-29099644483301308062009-07-03T17:55:00.000-07:002009-07-03T18:07:25.877-07:00

Still learning to be a girl after all them bruthas...

Pemahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13322572518468324244noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4732822725964576411.post-54834057391018556902009-07-02T05:44:00.000-07:002009-07-02T11:47:13.783-07:00

My best dancing days all added together have not seen as much dancing as there's been in my life since Michael Jackson died, all that rhythm comin outta everywhere, radios all around.I want a jazz funeral when I die. But if you play a little MJ when I go, it'll gimme some more boogie to woogie outta here on. And I won't mind a bit. As long as you keep marchin and swingin down the streets with

Pemahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13322572518468324244noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4732822725964576411.post-88799322879512328812009-07-01T07:10:00.000-07:002009-07-01T09:59:43.079-07:00

This is three-fourths of my core Welcome-to-Portland crew. Note the cute girl on the right. That's Stephanie. And this is the farewell crew. Saying goodbye to Stephanie. Portland's loss. New York's gain. We'll miss you, girl.

Pemahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13322572518468324244noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4732822725964576411.post-46847171345156063412009-06-30T22:51:00.000-07:002009-07-01T00:08:07.755-07:00

Pemahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13322572518468324244noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4732822725964576411.post-83587171239631369882009-06-29T01:08:00.000-07:002009-07-02T11:49:35.928-07:00

One dark and stormy night, I lost my glasses.I was traveling, and was headed for another airport in the morning. So, I made arrangements to cab it directly from the Portland airport to Sears Optical to get new specs. And you know, sometimes life has more adventures than time.So I met a blind date there. At Sears Optical. He helped me choose new glasses. He helped a lot, actually. It had been a

Pemahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13322572518468324244noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4732822725964576411.post-45823571954479033942009-06-28T02:12:00.000-07:002009-06-29T02:21:37.128-07:00

Just one pea(k).So funny.And cute.And funny.

Pemahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13322572518468324244noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4732822725964576411.post-8219736036971365462009-06-27T00:15:00.001-07:002009-06-27T00:22:16.519-07:00

It's hard to swallow a hard-to-swallow rule. But once you get used to it, sing-song a little mantra about it, and then become an editor, for Pete's sake, enforcing it with red pens the rest of your days, it's hard to let it go. Oh, i-before-e, must we? Part? New Britain Teaching Guidelines Nix "I Before E" Spelling Rule*

Pemahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13322572518468324244noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4732822725964576411.post-50926515123335991972009-06-25T08:42:00.000-07:002009-06-25T12:25:03.181-07:00

My friend and colleague, Jillian, was over yesterday, giving me counsel on my life architecture.We were talkin story and she told me about how, after a big change in her life, she got rid of almost everything she owned...appliances, furniture. She wanted to keep it simple. So she didn't buy a TV. She made her coffee on the stove.I was totally vibing on her story, drawn in like, yeah, I get it.

Pemahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13322572518468324244noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4732822725964576411.post-50150276928184588092009-06-24T07:17:00.000-07:002009-06-25T08:01:53.352-07:00

This is the way we gaze at our navelgaze at our navelgaze at our navelThis is the way we gaze at our navelearly in the morning.

Pemahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13322572518468324244noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4732822725964576411.post-22662570168323643742009-06-23T07:07:00.000-07:002009-06-23T13:51:15.238-07:00

Need a wake up call?Or a reason to keep hitting snooze?Bring home "The Perfect Valet."(Click the audio samples for your daily laugh dose.)

Pemahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13322572518468324244noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4732822725964576411.post-34079728384730123782009-06-22T06:57:00.000-07:002009-06-22T06:57:00.578-07:00

SUE: My big toe is smaller than my middle toe.ROB: Your big toe is smaller than your little toe?SUE: YeahROB: That lady we were with today, her little toe went straight up like this. Did you see it?SUE: What lady?ROB: That lady. The one with the one eye.

Pemahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13322572518468324244noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4732822725964576411.post-26060314887071444302009-06-21T08:21:00.000-07:002009-06-21T08:21:00.654-07:00

My grandma is the only person I've ever seen eat a taco like a sandwich.When I tell her that, she asks me, "What are you eating?"(She can't see what I'm eating because she is blind.)"A burrito.""What's a burrito?"(She doesn't know this because she's from Missouri circa 1910.)"Everything that's in your taco rolled up in a tortilla.""That's why I've never had one. I don't like those flour tortillas

Pemahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13322572518468324244noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4732822725964576411.post-1261787725382298572009-06-20T07:03:00.000-07:002009-06-20T07:03:01.921-07:00

My Milk ToofPossibly the funniest, and the cutest, cute/funny combo ever.(Web Cred - Thanks Kristin Thiel at Indigo Editing!Ever the fresh source for mental rest stops along the road.))

Pemahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13322572518468324244noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4732822725964576411.post-78448639709671069332009-06-19T07:03:00.000-07:002009-06-19T07:03:00.708-07:00

Damn that was a good night. Sold out crowd of ~250, people in happy moods, lost in the stories, like they're sitting at a campfire, feeling the heat and sharing the love. A stripper told a story about finding her vibrator in the bum of a half-dead man.A preacher's grandson told the story of his accidental terrorist act. A So. African ex-pat told a remarkable story of race, revelation, and The

Pemahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13322572518468324244noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4732822725964576411.post-34217826749885455442009-06-18T07:00:00.000-07:002009-06-18T07:00:08.785-07:00

My trip to Trader Joe's so fulfilled my need for familiarity, that I walked out with items it turns out I wasn't prepared for. To my delight this morning, I remembered I bought my favorite TJ's toaster waffles! Opening the freezer...grabbing the box...thinking of my topping choices...yum! almond butter? honey? Then I remember...I don't have a toaster. Wah-Wah-Wah...

Pemahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13322572518468324244noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4732822725964576411.post-6547775533750783982009-06-17T06:44:00.000-07:002009-06-17T06:57:35.365-07:00

Hey Folks, I'm on stage tonight at BACKFENCEPDX, storytelling on the theme, "Caught Red-Handed." Uh-oh. :) Check it out!

Pemahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13322572518468324244noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4732822725964576411.post-91416829764643037282009-06-16T07:00:00.000-07:002009-06-16T07:00:03.004-07:00

I have an inordinate love of fresh basil. I heart basil. I order Thai food, just for the basil dishes. I love the scent, the soft feel of its leaves, its rich, rich green, and that taste, mm mm mm. I finally found the Wednesday farmers market downtown in Portland's South Park blocks, an came home clutching a bunch of basil. Happy homemaker, I put it in a glass of water near the sink and off I

Pemahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13322572518468324244noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4732822725964576411.post-82849892945112165832009-06-15T07:00:00.002-07:002009-06-15T07:00:02.284-07:00

In favor of peace between my dad and me, we skirt topics on race and politics. But when I was a kid, we would get into arguments. At 19, I began to harbor fantasies of moving away from home, and coming back with long, wild curly hair, tattooed and smoking, on the back of a motorcycle driven by my boyfriend, who would of course be black. (FYI, I am white, my hair is straight, and I was into girls

Pemahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13322572518468324244noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4732822725964576411.post-40684515024279269882009-06-14T07:00:00.000-07:002009-06-14T15:21:18.624-07:00

SETTING: Hotel Bar.TIME: Evening, after day one of "Celebrating Men, Satisfying Women," a self-help seminar.CAST: WomanBartenderBartender mixes drink. WOMAN: One thing I do know is he falls for people he works with. (Sip)So if he ever gets his divorce and we get married, you better believe I'm gonna keep workin' with him.*

Pemahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13322572518468324244noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4732822725964576411.post-8938668934203052562009-06-13T07:00:00.000-07:002009-06-13T07:00:00.965-07:00

Q: How long does it take a girl to come to her senses and make herself feel at home in a new town?A: As long as it takes her to find and frequent the nearest Trader Joe's. I love a good farmers market. There are 6 of them within walking or biking distance from my house, selling yummy, locally grown organic fruits and veggies, and all kinds of other delights. But when I walked into Trader Joe's

Pemahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13322572518468324244noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4732822725964576411.post-77186940065423395192009-06-12T07:00:00.000-07:002009-06-12T07:00:02.184-07:00

So, would you find it kind of weird if you saw me walking along with my friend downtown, and I stopped, pulled down my panties and peed right there on the sidewalk?Would your shock be resolved if only my friend pulled out a water bottle and doused the pee puddle away? Mine would. That is, if it were you I saw peeing on the sidewalk, and your friend doused your puddle, I might be more forgiving of

Pemahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13322572518468324244noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4732822725964576411.post-53173292464039466892009-06-11T11:02:00.000-07:002009-06-11T12:27:13.935-07:00

Hi. I'm back. Too many observables have occurred to keep my mouth shut and brain quiet. Maybe more to the point, I'm over the hump in my move to Portland, making space and time for my brain to activate its Pemascope. It's a vast and airy place the Pemascope observes: Imagination's underbelly, and scruffy top. It's sparkly underpants. Thank goodness for airy there. Here, I'll scoot over. Join me

Pemahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13322572518468324244noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4732822725964576411.post-69174904828471321562009-02-17T18:44:00.000-08:002009-02-17T19:07:28.821-08:00

He's five, the kid from the sidewalk. It's a surprisingly sunshiny moment under Portland's gray sky, and as he swings his arms and walks with his family, he engages his little sister. He is totally amused...KID: Remember that movie? Remember the Wizard of Oz? Remember those Munchkins?! They were like tiny grownups! Isn't that so cool? They were SMALL grown ups.

Pemahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13322572518468324244noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4732822725964576411.post-72471833067978524902009-02-10T14:08:00.000-08:002009-02-10T14:56:27.363-08:00

Remember scratch n sniff stickers? This is listen n read blogging.Play this: To read this:Sometimes you drive around doing errands, buying office tools, buttoning up against the rain and eating a fast lunch so you can get back to work. And then you get home and dive in. To the work. Organizing paragraphs and making up story lines. You're listening to George Winston because you remembered that

Pemahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13322572518468324244noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4732822725964576411.post-51452163991716199692009-01-06T17:16:00.001-08:002009-01-07T13:48:29.138-08:00

Here I am, back already. For your theatrical pleasure and nighttime intrigue, you are welcome to TALKING DOGS, my new comedy about men and marriage, er, I mean, divorce. My new play, TALKING DOGS, is receiving a staged reading at Portland Center Stage's the Armory. It's part of the new FERTILE GROUND FESTIVAL, garnering a national focus on Portland's local theatre scene. Come be a part of the

Pemahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13322572518468324244noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4732822725964576411.post-26775803705619572892009-01-04T22:58:00.001-08:002009-01-04T23:03:23.661-08:00

Hi Friends and Park Benchers. So, uh, where HAVE I been?What have I been doing to be so neglectful of the Bench?Something happened. That ever occur in your life? Something, that isn't necessarily any one thing at all, but some turn occurs in your direction, and you are cruising, or trekking, or careening along on another path a fur piece before you turn around and realize what you left behind? In

Pemahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13322572518468324244noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4732822725964576411.post-81280593907713713192009-01-04T22:34:00.001-08:002009-01-04T22:58:28.184-08:00

Hi Friends and Park Benchers. So, uh, where HAVE I been?What have I been doing to be so neglectful of the Bench?Something happened. That ever occur in your life? Something, that isn't necessarily any one thing at all, but some turn occurs in your direction, and you are cruising, or trekking, or careening along on another path a fur piece before you turn around and realize what you left behind? In

Pemahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13322572518468324244noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4732822725964576411.post-71801236310343422372008-12-14T14:39:00.000-08:002008-12-14T14:48:23.303-08:00

I told Tania, who is visiting, that I need to write down a list of blog topics, as they have been adding up. She suggested I blog the blog topics. So here they are, in no particular order. Coming to a blog near you...- Racial Profiling- He really does resemble your dad!- Portland Snot!- Actually, that was a typo. Should say Portland Snow!- Tania's visit

Pemahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13322572518468324244noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4732822725964576411.post-33410021268347721162008-12-07T17:38:00.000-08:002008-12-15T19:23:15.020-08:00

Don't you hate when it comes back to haunt you? Need an exorcism? This one's FREE!

Pemahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13322572518468324244noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4732822725964576411.post-14144127619181198662008-11-29T00:14:00.000-08:002008-12-15T19:23:32.941-08:00

Hey folks, KISS MY FACE offered you all 30% off at their webstore:The promo code is at the end of this article I mentioned them in...you may remember it. If you already read it, snoop around elsewhere on the CarrieAndDanielle.com site for cool stuff to read. :-) You won't have to look too far. P.S. I LOVE Kiss My Face. Fabulous products.

Pemahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13322572518468324244noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4732822725964576411.post-24054174335812549952008-11-26T12:13:00.000-08:002008-12-15T19:24:07.757-08:00

Talking is for do-ers. Just saying....(Click to see me latest on CarrieandDanielle.com)*

Pemahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13322572518468324244noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4732822725964576411.post-38893447267836947922008-11-25T00:00:00.000-08:002008-11-25T00:00:00.529-08:00

Pemahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13322572518468324244noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4732822725964576411.post-82931392453262215722008-11-24T18:36:00.000-08:002008-11-26T16:04:27.332-08:00

CAUTION: Breakfast making and bath tub cleaning don't mix. Just ask Gina, who was making French toast and handing the sponge to Regina. Oh sad fate of the naked bread, never to be bathed in its French Toast future. It wasn't fun cleaning the tub with cinnamon egg yolk either.*

Pemahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13322572518468324244noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4732822725964576411.post-46816704942863941172008-11-23T22:13:00.000-08:002008-11-24T09:56:52.146-08:00

REGINA: Pema, do you have acidophilus?PEMA: No but I have fixyourpussilous. (Mama said there'd be days like this. Be prepared, with these two supplements in the herb cabinet: 1. Oregano oil capsules, and 2. Cell Food trace minerals.)

Pemahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13322572518468324244noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4732822725964576411.post-59630602077097956822008-11-22T00:00:00.000-08:002008-11-22T09:25:06.873-08:00

Maybe to a degree we teach people how to love us. If love fails, is it we, personally, who have failed to teach our partner how to best love us? If we are not loved the way we want to be loved, should we not take it upon ourselves to teach our partner how to love us? And if they fail, do we call it a personal failure because they have not learned from the best person to have taught them? Do we

Pemahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13322572518468324244noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4732822725964576411.post-5809568919564745192008-11-21T08:51:00.000-08:002008-12-15T19:25:07.043-08:00

Remember that little Sesame Street guy who is learning to read? Big and bold on the board in front of him is the word he is learning. He sounds out each of the letters and slowly--with so much suspense!!--pulls the sounds together to say the word:BLOGBuh Ll Ah GuhBLl Ah Guh((Meanwhile you're pinging in your seat, "blog! blog! it's blog! say BLOG!!!"))BLl AhG((BLOG! BLOG!! SAY IT!! (boing! boing!

Pemahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13322572518468324244noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4732822725964576411.post-67234096439675178212008-11-19T21:38:00.000-08:002008-11-19T22:25:54.168-08:00

No, I'm not getting married on that date. One of my characters is! Come visit me in Portland, OR, on January 30, where my new play TALKING DOGS will get its first public reading. Taking place at Portland's poshest digs for theatre, Portland Center Stage's The Armory, you can grab a cocktail and pull up a chair to a wedding reception featuring five men facing various stages of divorce and

Pemahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13322572518468324244noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4732822725964576411.post-86340585510194985922008-11-17T12:00:00.000-08:002008-12-15T19:25:28.434-08:00

Wanna date on the cheap without looking like a cheap date? Allow me to show you how...Check out my latest on C&D.com.

Pemahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13322572518468324244noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4732822725964576411.post-50952811945086791372008-11-16T23:19:00.000-08:002008-12-15T19:25:44.772-08:00

If you pardon the typos, you might like my new post on trusting your intuition at C&D.com. I know...you knew I was going to say that.

Pemahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13322572518468324244noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4732822725964576411.post-28486713894715175162008-11-14T20:25:00.001-08:002008-11-14T21:16:24.727-08:00

Man: I'm not a germ phobe or anything, but--eww.Woman: I'm not borrowing a swim suit. It's a yoga mat! Woman (cont.): Do you have those tiny spoons? I love a good cappucino with a tiny spoon. (Man hands her a cappucino)Woman (cont.): That's not a really tiny spoon, FYI. Man: Maybe you should get back to yoga and get a little more zenned out.Other Man: Or have one of these white chocolate chip

Pemahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13322572518468324244noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4732822725964576411.post-36903210062151784402008-11-13T20:06:00.000-08:002008-11-14T21:14:40.986-08:00

On Alberta Street in Portland, I dropped into La Sirenita to bring home dinner. The Mexican restaurant sits in between two others, La Bonita and La Playita, all on the same block.I haven't eaten at the others, but have wondered about them. While waiting for my food, I got confirmation I was in the right place. A woman wearing a black apron that had a red embroidered "La Bonita" on it came in, got

Pemahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13322572518468324244noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4732822725964576411.post-41735938577804134462008-11-12T13:00:00.000-08:002008-12-15T19:17:46.936-08:00

I ate grasshoppers last night.Served sun dried in a bowl with chili flakes and lime. Garnished with salsas, cilantro, and corn tortillas.I resisted temptation to wash it down with a shot of tequila. I was on a date, after all.The bigger story is that I'm doing research for a story that involves entomophagy. The grasshoppers were listed on the menu as appetizers, under "pre-hispanic" food. With

Pemahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13322572518468324244noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4732822725964576411.post-11095933513072468722008-11-11T09:50:00.000-08:002008-11-11T14:56:39.457-08:00

The thing about Portland is that it's morning all day long. At least that's what my history in SoCal tells me, where coolness and clouds clear out by 9am. Under the perpetual morning skies of Portland, I have no indicator of time passing. Now that I work from home, I am prone to wake-and-work--I fire up the laptop before getting out of bed in the morning. I eventually move the work down to my

Pemahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13322572518468324244noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4732822725964576411.post-63359102889296861052008-11-09T23:31:00.000-08:002008-11-09T23:37:37.752-08:00

Sometimes the substance is a person and abuse feels nothing like the word.

Pemahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13322572518468324244noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4732822725964576411.post-69129005318306634362008-11-08T23:15:00.000-08:002008-12-15T19:34:17.567-08:00

I had a funny experience. Actually, I had a fun experience and parenthetically encountered a funny one. Portland hosts a literary festival called, Wordstock. It's a weekend of readings by authors from all over the country. Before I moved to town two months ago, I signed up to volunteer. I'm a word nerd.Last minute, I got a call to pick up an author at the airport. It was Stefan Fatsis, book

Pemahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13322572518468324244noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4732822725964576411.post-20502635001404916212008-11-05T19:33:00.000-08:002008-12-15T19:39:39.852-08:00

Gina heard this on the radio today, paraphrased. An African-American man was interviewed out on the street in his town, in response to yesterday's landslide vote to elect Barack Obama President of the United States:"This election was the biggest event since Abraham Lincoln signed the Emancipation Proclamation. That piece of paper was supposed to free us. But we weren't free that day. We were sent

Pemahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13322572518468324244noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4732822725964576411.post-62692223758636843272008-11-04T09:49:00.000-08:002008-11-04T11:24:25.307-08:00

I love election day! I love that I can fill in the bubbles on my ballot (which I am doing right now!) knowing millions of people all over the nation are doing the same thing today. Our nation has football and baseball games that bring fans together in hope and drive. We send athletes to Olympic games that pull our heartstrings in solidarity, and serve to expand our collective minds about regular

Pemahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13322572518468324244noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4732822725964576411.post-46173233948057647582008-11-03T00:40:00.000-08:002008-11-03T00:43:31.314-08:00

"Religions and their believers are free to define marriage as they please; they are free to consider homosexuality a sin. But they are not free to impose their definitions of morality on the state. Proposition 8 proponents know this, which is why they have misdirected the debate with highly colored illusions about homosexuals trying to take away the rights of religious Californians. Since May,

Pemahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13322572518468324244noreply@blogger.com0