Give a Spider some Scissors....

Travelled into the city yesterday. I decided enough was enough and I would go to see the woman who has cut my hair since I was 13 (yes: thirteen). Got on a nassty BART car: as someone apparently felt that their snack must be shared with the poor hungry BART seats and apples and peanut butter are the bART seats favoritist goody. (As I said nasssty).

I get off at Powell street and walk up past the cablecar turnaround, the DSW, the huge Victoria Secret across from the equally huge Disney store and get to Sutter. I go in to the store front and walk up and find out that the salon she is in in is one more floor up so after three flights I arrive. And she starts hacking away. This pleases me enormously. When I ask for a Brooksie A-line I want a Brooksie A-line not a slanted 70's c curve which is what I have been given the last two times I've gotten my haircut.

I feel so lite!

Afterwards I go to the book store and find two reads: History of the Ancient World, Susan Wise Bauer and Twenty Years After, Alexander Dumas. Then I go back to the BART station feeling all pleased and there's this guy who insists on invading my personal space to try and sell me a BART ticket I do not want nor do I need and as he will not get out of my face I have to tell him:
"Look! I just want to get my ticket without being bothered!" And after staring at him and not moving he takes a hint.

I can then get my ticket and go down to the platform and board a train where I am promptly surrounded by men in suits, with wireless laptops at the ready, headed home.
**
I am still reading Perdido Street Station but as of today I have less than eighty pages to go. Mind, they are tight packed tiny font pages but - I have hopes that the Good Fairies of New York may be started tonight.

In order to accomplish this near feat of concluding the feast fest of slake-moths and oneirotic Clotho like spiders I went to a cafe and latched onto one of the comfy red chairs. Got me a lunch and a drink and settled right in. Then, how odd, I don't remember anything sharpish in my food stuffs. Hmmm, I don't recall hearing any bone like cracking. Why then does one tooth feel jagged and the other not?

Guess along with a visit to my familiar hair stylist it's time for a visit to my familiar dentist. Seems part of a molar has dissolved leaving a ten year old (most likely older say 12?14?) filling to hold up the fort on one side. *sigh*
***CV

***CV

Synchronicity

Today after practice I entered a discussion in which the phrase "Ladder of abstraction" came up. As I understand it an abstraction is when a person generalizes from a specific experience in such a way that the specific situation no longer has to be dealt with. For example: "Today (x) yelled at me" becomes abstracted to, "Nobody likes me." A ladder is comprised of all the steps one takes from the specifc event to the generalization. The ladder idea is nice because it froms a path that one can follow back to the specific.

In a somewhat related situation I was browsing the local new age/ spiritual shop and as I was perusing the Thich Nach Hahn shelves I came across a slim volume related to Sangha building.

I found both of these situations insightful as in my particular line of work abstractions are continually being formed by the individuals in my care; beings who are not only learning how to become a community among themselves but developing the skills to create community no matter where they go.

(Not to mention the couple who asked one of the shop attendents what Ganesa represented. "Hmmm? Oh, most ommonly he is known as The Remover of Obstacles.) ***CV

Subtle Semaphore

Isn't it funny the things that turn up when you least expect them?

Yesterday a friend asked if I would be changing jobs completely and I said I couldn't imagine not teaching children and that I had been looking at different places out of state. She seemed awed that I would be willing to move if a new position reqired it. This is not to say that I haven't considered other fields of interest: Librarian, Rolfer, etc. and would be unwilling to move if they required it also.

I took today off as a personal day and, after a later then usual practice during which there was the adult equivalent of one of my students participating, took care of an errand before visiting my sanctuary. As I was leaving with my aquisitions (Short Stories of Balzac, and a Borges Biography) what should be outside but a group of Montessori upper els on a field trip.

Then I went to a cafe and enjoyed two of the stories from the Balzac collection before heading to the yarn shop to pick up class supplies. Last night I only registered. While I was there the teacher from the cabling class mentioned to the shop owner that I was a teacher too but for a Montessori school.

Turns out the shop owner was a Montessori child until she was five.

O Universe: are you trying to tell me something?***CV

An elegant foot

Knitting on the bus I have the opportunity to see a lot of shoes. The other day as I was working away on my chocolate and strawberry knee highs I chanced to glance across the aisle and near dazzled myself with some lemon yellow footwear which a stylin' brother was wearin' over there.

Talk about cheerful feet.

So he and his friend are talkin' about this and about that, mostly about clothes and what the current budget will and will not allow, and suddenly I hear, "Now those black and white ones, they're all right."

What? I do a peripheral peer. I don't see any black and white shoes near by.

"But I dunno I don't think I got the clothes for 'em. Still..."

Come to realize he was talking about my near ten year old spat style Doc mary janes. I think I've been complimented :)****CV