qualified to live.

by gracie magee.

by gracie magee.

Be Nobody’s Darling

Be nobody’s darling;
Be an outcast.
Take the contradictions
Of your life
And wrap around
You like a shawl,
To parry stones
To keep you warm.

Watch the people succumb
To madness
With ample cheer;
Let them look askance at you
And you askance reply.

Be an outcast;
Be pleased to walk alone
Or line the crowded
River beds
With other impetuous

Make a merry gathering
On the bank
Where thousands perished
For brave hurt words
They said.

Be nobody’s darling;
Be an outcast.
Qualified to live
Among your dead.

By: Alice Walker

Expect Nothing

Expect nothing. Live frugally
On surprise.
become a stranger
To need of pity
Or, if compassion be freely
Given out
Take only enough
Stop short of urge to plead
Then purge away the need.

Wish for nothing larger
Than your own small heart
Or greater than a star;
Tame wild disappointment
With caress unmoved and cold
Make of it a parka
For your soul.

Discover the reason why
So tiny human midget
Exists at all
So scared unwise
But expect nothing. Live frugally
On surprise.

also By: Alice Walker

an oldie but a goodie:


Getting ready for the day, I became overjoyed.

– I can do whatever I want today…. [within monetary reason.]

Cool. Wow… Yes. I can do whatever I want today. No, wait… I can do whatever I want with my life…. [within monetary reason.]

WOW. Anything I want. Yes and yes!

So then I had this epiphany with things I want, one thing after another, like I was standing under a small waterfall… they relentlessly poured over me… and I was loving it, smiling within it all.

Let me share some things:

• I want love. I know this is so cliché and understated when left by itself and obvious but yes. Yes and yes: I want love.

• I want art. I want to be surrounded by it. Art is the embodiment of life, love, motivation, inspiration… somethingness. I want somethingness.

• I want green. I want the world around me to be rich in color, green. Full of life. Green. I want to sink my toes into it all.

• I want a family. Someday. There is no denying it. A little girl just sat down at the table next to me… she’s maybe four. She smiled, waved, said something to me… couldn’t hear her… I’m wearing headphones. She is precious. My heart dropped, sank, sitting at the bottom of me, holding it’s breath.

Those are big things. I know this. I want other big things too… but the simple things, I want those too:

• I want a place to sit and read. To sit and write. To sit and create. I want that place to be right next to you.

• I want you. [You = my family, my friends, my love, my dancing partners, my climbing partners, musicians, artists, writers, my love.] I want you around.

• I want cardigans. With pockets. Many.

• I want to be exactly like my parents. Both of them. Them. Together.

• I want to laugh. At myself, at you, at us, at them, at it all.

• I want to dance. With you. In the silliest manner.

And I know all this wanting just reminds you of how self-centered I am. Yes, it reminds me of this too. But what to do with it all? Tell you about it. Hope you want some of the same. Hope you’ll join me.

“driver, could you take this lap a bit slower? my cristal is spilling…”

There’s a section of my WordPress admin that lets me see what people Google searched to land on my site.  Sometimes it’s pretty hilarious.  There was that one time I felt very sorry for the poor fella that got to this post from googling, “how to unlock bathroom doors”.

But this morning, I am truly baffled.  Someone got to my site by googling, “racing limos”.  Wait.  What??  Seriously??  HOW?

Turns out these things actually exist:

for when you wanna get there in style... FAST.

for when you wanna get there in style... FAST.

This post is officially dedicated to that one person who found my site searcing for racing limos… tada!

[press 2.]

The themes for today are: Laughing Out Loud to Yourself and Good Music.

LOLTY [please pronounce phonetically] #1

Bink and I travelled to my favorite coffee shop for muffins and flat whites.  There were a lot of people there this morning and I noticed that every single one of them was lone-wolfing it.  Everyone was at a table by themselves… this made me feel better about life.

Anywho, a man to my right was reading the paper all by himself, drinking his coffee.  Then, all the sudden he laughed out loud SO hard it scared Bink and myself.  I looked over to see if I could tell what he was reading… it was obvious… the funnies.  He was reading the comics.  Precious.

Good Music #1

I got an email from my dearest, Dan Long, with this song:

STRONG work, DLo.

Everyone start singing and dancing now!


I am embracing randomness in my life now.  Coincidences that happen should be glorified.  The ridiculousness should be pointed at, shared.

So I sent this message to one of my friends [one of those that you don’t really know… but you know of them] on Facebook:

Subject: from left field.

“i don’t really know you [in fact, have we actually met? i think maybe once… twice… unclear] but you were definitely in my dream last night. i was trying to get you and your band [band? are you in a band? unclear] to come and play an opening at my gallery in portland [p.s. i don’t own a gallery nor live in portland nor america, for that fact] and you were being very difficult [so, yeah, thanks for that… i just wanted you guys to play!]. and you said you had about 30 people in your band and i said, “well, that’s not going to work… we don’t have enough room.” and you said, “well, then then we’ll just have to play on the roof.” and i said, “awww forget it… we’ll find someone else.” but then you were there, playing on the roof, with like a hundred people! stomping, jumping up and down! and it was all very blogothequesque. and then the roof fell in and you guys fell all over everyone in the gallery [me and all my friends]. it was insane. but then we all just got up and danced anywho… you all played on broken instruments. it was amazing.

thought i’d share.

have a good one.”

I sent it and then immediately regretted it… “Rachel, why do you do such dumb things!” but then later remembered about embracing life and all it’s random beauty… glorify, point.  Then, I got this message on my Facebook wall from Michael [the victim of all this ridiculousness]:

“i am laughing out loud right now. thanks for making my day.
please keep me posted on further happenings such as this…”

Phew!  Close call.

Good Music #2

Another great find from Ashely.  Thank you again, fine lady:

Very pretty.


In a euphoric state of loving life, I tried to call my best friend, Nic, to share.  Nic hasn’t figured out how to call me yet [bless his heart] and he picks up his phone 35% of the time, so talking to him is a rarity that I get very excited about.  Today, it went to voicemail [damn you, 65%!] but I didn’t care… I was ready to leave a happy message…

– Hey Nic, it’s me.  You must be busy… Guess wha–

– I’m sorry.  We did not get your message, either because you were not speaking or we could not hear you.  To disconnect, press 1.  To try again, press 2.

[press 2.]

– Ha, okaaaaay… Well your voicemail lady doesn’t like me, bu–

– I’m sorry.  We did not get your message, either because you were not speaking or we could not hear you.  To disconnect, press 1.  To try again, press 2.

[press 2.]

– [laughing pretty obviously]  HI!  NIC!  It’s Rachel!  Your voicemail lady does NOT lik–

– I’m sorry.  We did not get your message, either because you were not speaking or we could not hear you.  To disconnect, press 1.  To try again, press 2.

[press 2.]

– [cracking up to myself… SO HARD.]  …hahahaI’m sorry… Hold on, let’s see if your woman’s gonna cu–

– Sorry you’re having trouble.  Goodbye!

Oh man.  I was crying laughing to myself.  Why exactly?  Unclear.

Good Music #3

…Ashe suggested this band and I was so psyched to find this song cuz I keep hearing it on the radio and I laaaaarve it.  Hope you enjoy!


The girl with many names… that’s me.  I don’t know how I’ve accumulated so many nicknames, but there are quite a few:

Ray Ray [and the plethora of variations: Aunt Ray, Nanny Ray, etc.]
Intern Seethens
Our Little Miss
The Unhealer
Chet Snevets
[please feel free to remind me of any others.]

…and then Badooder.  Badooder is my oldest, and most ridiculous, nickname.  My dad calls me it… usually only when I mess up the name of a band or forget something somewhere, “Badooder!  C’mon.”  Anywho, it was always real unclear where I got the name from, so I asked my dad and got this email:

“Mom did not recall how you came about the name ‘Badooder’, but after we talked we were able to fill in the gaps.  We had planned a trip to Europe when Mom found out she was pregnant.  We were planning to cancel when she got the OK from the Doctor to travel at that trimester.  The price of the trip went up dramatically just before we left and we almost canceled again. We went for it anyway.  Your name came about from the fact that we did not know if you were going to be a boy or a girl, (still don’t, sorry, couldn’t resist, I guess I’m still upset about Neil Diamond), so one day in Amsterdam we took a train trip out to the windmills in this little town.  There was hardly anyone there because this was in Feb. It was cold & a little rainy but we started calling the place ‘Badooderville’.  It was your European road trip.  What happens if you drink too much Heineken in Holland?  European!  For lack of a name for you, we started calling you Badooder.  We were walking back into town to the train when we had to wait at a small drawbridge for a boat passing.  At the bridge also was 10 or 12 schoolchildren just being kids.  I remember it distinctly.  I bought postcards of that place and saved them forever.  Guess what, I have been looking/obsessing for them for 2 hrs and can’t find them to send you one.  I may have sent 1 to you or Sarah, hang onto it, its the source of that name.

Love Ya and the way you write, & miss you always. Daddy”
[it made me cry.]

the most beautiful world in the world.

If you’re a subscriber, you probably have a good idea how great/hilarious my dad is.  If not, please check out the “dad’s poscards.” section of the blahg.  Well, today is this very special man’s birthday.  HAPPY BIRTHDAY DADDY!!

my awesome pops and me.*

my awesome pops and me.*

Oh my dad.  What can I say about him?  He’s probably the most embarrassing father you could ask for… oh, don’t worry, he’s trying to be.  Like the time that he told me he was sending a limo for my 13th birthday to pick up me and my eight friends from school.  [limos = big deal in middle school… the richest kids would get them for super fancy-pants occasions.]  You can imagine my horror when my dad showed up, in front of the whole school, in our beige station wagon with “Rachel’s Party Limo” written all over the windows.  He stepped out of the car wearing a vest, chauffeur’s hat and gloves and opened the doors for my friends… who were dying from laughter while piling into the station wagon.  I, on the other hand, was dying from embarrassment and vowed never to speak to my father again… until it was time for cake and presents.

My mind is racing; there are so many more stories.  Dad is the funny one.  As I’ve grown, I’ve learned to love it more and more.  I cherish his ridiculous postcards, stories, everything.  And then every once in a while he says something that is the sweetest, most perfect thing and I’m completely taken back.  Like the last paragraph of an email sent for my birthday:

“So anyway, remember that life is supposed to be fun & try to do the right thing without worrying about it.  It doesn’t always work but its still ‘the most beautiful world in the world’ or as Willie says ‘try to approach everything from a positive angle & it will help make it a positive experience’.  Profound huh?

Happy Birthday, (I can see it like yesterday)

Always Love, Your Proud Father, DADDY”

He is an artist, a musician, a comedian, a golfer, a fisherman, a father, a grandfather, my daddy.

Happy Birthday, Daddy!

Always Love,
Rocky.  [“Badooder”… can you remind me where I got this nickname from?]

* Back in the day, when I thought I was cool enough to wear conductor hats.  And, can we all agree that my pops looks like Neil Diamond and Neil Young’s love-child?