US District Judge Victor Marrero dealt the Patriot Act a major blow today when he declared secret government searches of our internet wanderings and telephone records unconstitutional.

Just in case you missed that bit, a part of the Patriot Act gave the FBI the authority to force internet service providers and phone companies to turn over certain customer records (without obtaining a search warrant where they'd have to show evidence that a person might be engaged in illegal or terrorist activity), but forbid the companies from ever informing their customer that such a search took place.

I'm sure we'll hear more whinging about "activist judges" from Team Bush in the days to come. But, I'd like to think that, somewhere in the stars, the fathers of our country are smiling.

"Vertigo," the first single off of U2's upcoming album "How to Dismantle an Atomic Bomb" is on iTunes (exclusively right now, not sure when it's in brick-and-mortar stores).

And it freakin' ROCKS!

I can't wait for November 23!

Green Day has made an album I actually like...make that love! A more in-depth review will come as soon as I've had time to sit and fully read through the lyrics. But right now I can't stop listening to this CD ("American Idiot," if you're looking to buy...or go give it a test-listen on iTunes).

Around 10:15 this morning I suddenly felt quite dizzy, which then made me feel slightly nauseated. I couldn't imagine what the heck was going on, until a co-worker popped out of his office and said, Earthquake! We're at the top floor of an 8-storey building and that sucker was swaying to beat all!

The central California coast area seems to have become much more active the last couple of years--particularly with larger earthquakes (they had a 6.5 back in December not far from where today's event was centered). Thank goodness no one was hurt today, apart from some frayed nerves. Looks like they had well over 100 aftershocks, though...many were only in the 2-3 range, but one right after the "big" event was 5.0. Ick.

Maybe it was the Universe's way of making sure us Californians didn't talk too much smack about the hurricanes in Florida...

I learned that one does NOT just decide to go shopping in downtown Walnut Creek, then get in the car and take off. No, shopping in downtown Walnut Creek on a Saturday afternoon, evidently, requires a bit more forethought and preparation.

I did manage to shake off my slight discomfort at the sight of so many "W 04" and "Bush/Cheney" bumper stickers. And the Parking Goddess opened up a nice spot just steps away from Macy's door. What got a bit uncomfortable, though, were the gawks and stares, and I could swear I heard a couple of snorts from the women shopping in downtown Walnut Creek.

Clearly, I was a "furriner"...and probably a damned hippie from Berkeley at that! It didn't take long for me to see why I stood out from the crowd:

* I dared to wander into downtown Walnut Creek without any makeup. (But I did put on my tinted Aveda lip balm...doesn't that count?)

* I neglected to visit my hairdresser and get my hair "done" before going shopping in downtown Walnut Creek. My decidedly un-coiffed waves flailed wildly around my head, with just a few clips holding the more unruly bits off my face.

* Bare nails. I got past the screener without having a manicure or pedicure. I feel shame.

* What not to wear: Old jeans, old tank top, old sweater and old I-can't-believe-they're-not-Birkenstocks. I wore 'em. In downtown Walnut Creek.

* I went stag. Evidently, women who shop downtown Walnut Creek shop in herds...or at least in pairs. I thought I had found one other solo female shopper and started to see if she'd be my "shopping buddy" but she caught one look at me and ran for the nearest herd of shoppers. I think it was my hair that scared her.

* I smelled of patchouli and sandalwood and other yummy natural oils and herbs instead of emitting the $75/oz synthetic odour of the locals, and SWEET MERCIFUL CRAP!!! I LEFT PLANET VICSTER WITHOUT FIRST SPRAYING ON A SUNTAN!!! Wasn't anyone standing watch at the Caldecott tunnel to filter the likes of me out?!?

While browsing Nordstrom's, a woman walked past me...she didn't look too out of the ordinary, but I noticed she had a sticker over her breast that read, "Visitor 272". I wondered if, once they sussed me as an outsider, I'd be tagged too.

In the end, all I bought was an iced tea at Starbucks (it wasn't hard to find...it was just across from The Gap) and got into Luna (a.k.a. the Wicked Cool Car!) and wended my way back to the cool side of the tunnel (literally...the temperature dropped about 10 degrees as I came down the hill).

And I learned...There's No Place Like Home.

Lately, I've been in need of a space where I can just be...alone. As it turns out, my Wicked Cool Car! (formerly known as my Brand New Car!) has become my sanctuary.

All of the general psychic "gunk" that I'm trying to process has had me so twisted lately, that if we were to take out my psyche and examine it, it would very closely resemble a Celtic Knot. And, while I love Celtic art, having my inner workings so knotted up is not at all aesthetically pleasing. But in my Wicked Cool Car! I feel...safe. Not just safe in terms of power locks and windows and dual air bags, but safe to work out my thoughts and feelings. When I'm in the Wicked Cool Car!, I can feel the knots smoothing out and I start to feel much more clear and sure of myself.

Today, I went to my new favourite local spot (sorry, I'm not tellin' where it is), parked the Wicked Cool Car! and just chilled for over an hour. Just me, alone with my thoughts, a cup of coffee and the owner's manual for the Wicked Cool Car!...It was a beautiful and warm and safe place to get better acquainted with the Wicked Cool Car!, and re-acquainted with myself and my instincts.

While I learned where coin compartment is (how cool is that? No more stashing parking meter quarters in the ash tray!) and how to calibrate the compass in my rear-view mirror (requires a road trip to a remote location where there's no interference or buildings or such), I got to grips with the critical concern my friend expressed last evening. While her unconditional approval might have been nice, I appreciate her criticism and concern too. And, I understand that it comes from her caring about my well-being and my future...but I also understand that her way and my way aren't the same because we approach life from different angles. It doesn't make one of us right and the other wrong. We're just different. And, while I've gone about this Leap of Faith in a way that causes my friend concern, I can't change what's done. I can only move forward and build off of this Leap of Faith, and that's exactly what I'm going to do!

I'm looking forward to next Sunday's appointment with my counselor and protector. And, hopefully, by then the Wicked Cool Car! will have a proper name.

If you live in the Bay Area and you slept in this morning, you missed it. It made a nice change, though. The weather today feels quite like Fall, except the light is still more like the cool blue of summer, rather than the warm amber quality of light that makes Fall my favourite season.

Johnny Ramone lost his long bout with prostate cancer.

There is one fantastic jam session happening in Rock 'n' Roll Heaven tonight!

"1!2!3!4!"

My Brand New Car! matches my 4-year-old iMac, perfectly.

It was destiny, I tells ya!

Well, so far this weekend, I've gotten about six hours of sleep. And I hadn't been able to eat anything until late this afternoon. Last night--that is to say this morning--I couldn't get the warring factions in my head to stop their screaming matches. It got to the point where Simon and Billie actually worked together to snuggle me and try to help me sleep! Now for those two to occupy the same area and not 1) try to bite each other and 2) not hiss and growl meant that I must have really been putting out a vibe to them that they thought I was rather "fragile."

It was a rather stressful morning. The "piglet" voice that keeps worrying about all the things that might go wrong just wouldn't shut up. One of my truest, best friends not only went with me to get the new car detailed (so I could drive the Hyundai back here and she drove the Subaru home for me), she took me to this really yummy smelling diner for breakfast. The food looked really good...too bad I couldn't appreciate it because I was so worked up I could only drink coffee and eat a few bites of wheat toast. AND, she patiently put up with my neurotic ranting. I owe her Big Time.

I had spent so much time working the numbers and, even though I knew I could work the car payment and still have a cushion of money, the wild card was the insurance. I had no idea how much it would go up, so I budgeted for it to at least double, and that was the source of much stress throughout the morning.

I got through to the insurance company (I've been with them almost as long as I've had the Hyundai). And by the time we were done, my insurance payment only jumped by about $20/month! I was so relieved that I nearly started crying while the customer service rep and I finished up.

And, once I got that huge monkey off my back, I decided to go enjoy my Brand New Car! First order of business was, naturally, the tunes: I thought it most appropriate to start the bonding ritual with U2's "Beautiful Day". And it was beautiful out, too and the album was the perfect soundtrack for the mini-road trip. I did a loop around the East Bay, out Hwy. 24, down I-680 over to I-580, and back through Oakland. I decided to cruise Bay Farm Island and stop over at the ferry dock to take in some of that wonderful marine air...and to take photos of my Brand New Car!

At some point, I may be organised enough to download them out of the camera and post them here so that everyone else can enjoy my Brand New Car!

Right now, I'm just relieved that I finally was able to relax enough to eat, and I think I'll definitely be able to sleep tonight (unless the furkids get too rambunctious and keep me awake).

I've never had power steering before! The salesman at the Subaru dealership remarked that I must be Super Woman to be able to steer the Hyundai. He said it took every bit of strength he had!

I've never had power windows before! I no longer have to battle with a window crank with missing parts. Trying to get the driver's side window down and up took great feats of strength as well. Not to mention great measures of patience.

I've never had an automatic transmission before! My left foot doesn't know what to do with itself, now.

Crikey! All this time I thought I was just driving to and from work, when I've really been doing strength training...

Well, I set out originally to get either an iPod or a photo/film scanner. I was in the Apple Store and various other computer/electronics stores fondling the toys...yet I couldn't bring myself to take them to the check-out.

Then...this! The colour I got isn't in the config because this particular combo is rare. It's a rather low-key (for me) dark gun metal grey with a silver bottom section. I looked at this year's red version and I didn't like it as well as last year's red (which is gorgeous!). Besides, there aren't many of these particular cars out there (yet), so it'll stand out enough without being one of the wowwie-zowwie colours. I want to be able to find it in the parking lot, but not have it draw too much attention from the traffic cops, ifyaknowwhatImean.

Right now, there's part of me wondering if I've just done Something Really Stupid, then another part that reminds me that I ran the numbers and while the car payment is just a bit outside the comfort zone(*), there is enough and there will be enough and I CAN do this. (* The comfort zone is actually NO car payment...since I haven't had a car payment for about 12-13 years!)

As for the old car, well at 18 years old, it's pretty much done. It's due for the smog check this year and it's of an age where it gets shunted off to the "special" smog check station. I'm pretty certain that it would have cost me about the equivalent of the down payment on the new car to just get the old one to pass the smog test! Plus it needs some work on the engine and some other stuff. It runs fine and it's got only just a bit over 79,000 miles on it...it's just old.

And...well, look at the first paragraph. I know me well enough to know that, sure I'm putting money in the savings account, but I'd be spending the equivalent of a car payment every month on these silly little trinkets. At least, the car payment is going towards something useful...after all, I can't drive an iPod!

So, here I am at 1:00 a.m.--wait, hang on, it's actually nearly 2:00 a.m.--with competing factions battling it out in my head. The part that keeps saying, "wait! What if A) happens or B) happens! Then What?!?" and the other part that counters with, "Look at the times you didn't buy the Subaru because you were afraid Something Bad would happen: Both times, you ended up losing your job (and you got through it!), so don't worry that Something Bad will happen just because you've bought yourself a new car!" (For the record, I've been wanting to own a Subaru for over 25 years and I've been test driving them--but not buying--for 10 years.)

Is this the product of a fit of madness? Might be. Might be, indeed. Or, maybe, it's a step toward being the chick who takes chances. I always liked that chick, because she'd kick life in the ass (just to show it she's in control), then give it a peck on the cheek because she loves it so much.

So, here's to that first step in living life a bit more fearlessly!

But, first, I really should try to get some sleep!

That's me in the middle of a heat wave. Except for that brief respite last week, we've had a long hot spell and, honestly, I'm starting to get depressed from it.

My apartment has not been cooler than 80 degrees for about a week now...and the last two or three days it's stalled out at 85. I am so sick of taking cold--and by cold I mean the water is switched all the way over to cold--showers and being dripping-sweaty two minutes after I'm out of the shower. And there's the added "pleasure" of putting clothes on and it's so hot that the clothes feel like they've just been pulled from the dryer. Ugh!

The furkids are miserable, the fish are practically begging me to drop a tray of ice cubes into their aquariums, and I'm screaming a blue streak every three minutes or so because everything is annoying me.

To top it off, one of the furkids--what the heck, I'll name names, it was Billie--pulled her favourite nasty trick and peed over the edge of the litter box and onto the floor. I put her in "time out" (which is in the bathtub--no water of course!--with the shower doors closed) and at first she complained. Then I told her her options were A) stay in there and shut up or B) I could let her out and she ran the risk of me killing her. Because, when it's hotter than hell in the apartment, turning on the blazing hot lights in the bathroom and cleaning up cat piss is just not on my list of things I'd like to spend my evening doing! Wisely, she chose Option A and sat quietly until I let her out about 15 minutes later.

Now she's trying very hard to make it up to me by giving leg rubs and chatting to me. Since I just got out of another cold shower, I'm slightly less homicidal, so Billie thinks her chances of getting out of this evening alive are pretty good now.

Meantime, I'd best slam that glass of chardonnay while it's still chilled.

Oh, at 10:00 p.m. it's 72 degrees out. Have I mentioned I HATE hot weather?

Oh yeah, I did. GRRRRRRRRRRR!!!!!!!

Not a good day to be a DLH* kitty. (*Domestic Long Hair) Poor Simon is sprawled on the chair mat next to me and Billie has stashed herself in the darkest coolest corner she can find (and is quite annoyed that I won't let her take up residence in the fridge). Actually, Simon looks quite funny all splayed out on his back with his tongue sticking out (kinda like this, only on the floor)! But I don't think he'll see the humor, so I won't laugh at him.

Now, to the random firings...for some reason, I suddenly flashed on a memory of something that happened a few weeks ago. I was out one Saturday evening and was introduced to someone. I remember somewhere in the brief conversation talking about how it was rare for me to be out so late and how hard it is to get this old lady off the island on a weekend, etc.

...and now I'm thinking, Jesus Christ! Who was THAT person?!? That guy was introduced to me...but he certainly didn't meet me! Or is it the other way 'round? Well, the point is, I'm NOT an "old lady"! OK, so chronologically, I'm about to click over to the next age demographic, and there are some body parts that, well, let's just say some of the contents may have settled during shipping and some bits may be approaching their "enjoy by:" date. But it's all (still) good!

There is still a LOT of life left in me! And in some ways, I'm just beginning my life. My soul is still vibrant...even if *I've* had trouble seeing that lately, there are others who do see it and are very encouraging in terms drawing me out and allowing me to be, well, me. (Anyone who's known me for any length of time knows that I've spent a hell of a chunk of my life apologising--to my mother in particular--for being myself, so this is somewhat uncharted territory for me.) These are the people I need to listen to (as well as paying better attention to my own instincts)...not the psychic vampires and other people who are only capable of tearing others down, instead of building up their own lives.

Anyway, it's quite possible that I'll cross paths with that nice young man (oh geez, now that sounds like something an Old Lady would say!) again...and I'd probably just further embarrass myself by saying, "No, wait! That person you met before, it wasn't ME! I was possessed by the spirit of Old Bitter Woman!" I suppose the best way to "say" it is to just not be that old lady anymore.

Well, we're back under another hot spell, but I'm trying to enjoy the long weekend as much as possible, especially after another rather "toxic" week.

Friday evening and Saturday morning, I felt the tug of needing to do something creative. So I loaded the Holgas (they're cameras...I'll explain more fully later for the non-photo geeks out there) and headed for the water's edge. Of course, I had piddled about too long Friday evening and was losing light quickly. However the walk was worth it because the view of the sun setting behind San Francisco was just gorgeous!

I've had some specific shots in mind that I wanted to get along the Bay, so I was up early (for me...on a weekend) Saturday for another walk along the shoreline. At 8:30 a.m. it was already getting quite warm out there, but around 9:00 a.m. a breeze started to kick up, nice and gentle, just to keep things cool.

So, coffee in hand (yes, I'm back drinking it again...but I can quit anytime I want to), and the Bag Of Holgas draped over my shoulder, I wandered along the shoreline path and got the shots I had been wanting to try.

Then it was time for the Real Therapy. Off came the sandals for a barefoot walk in the sand and, since I was wearing the capri-length jeans, an ankle-deep wade in the water. The sun was just high enough in the sky to be warm without being oppressive, the sand was firm, with just enough give for a satisfying squish between my toes, and the water was cool but not cold, just like the breeze. It was a perfect moment where I felt God and the Great Mother and I just needed to stop and take in the experience.

Standing in the Bay, I could feel the water draw in and out in tune with my breathing. Each exhale carried the toxins I had built up away from my body and out to sea, replacing them with energising waves and cleansing lungfuls of sea air.

It's amazing how being in the environment I'm supposed to be in, and doing the work that I'm supposed to be doing filled me with so much positive energy and gave me life again!

That's why it is important that I have a written record of yesterday (along with the photographic evidence, once the films get developed): So that I don't lose track of who I am, what I'm meant to be doing, and where I'm supposed to be doing it. Because, when I lose track of any or all of these things, I shut down and become bitter. And I so want to be the funny, warm, creative, thoughtful and open person (with a hint of the Gleefully Evil) that I've tried to be for 39 years.

This Craig's List ad is hilarious!

A great reminder of why I don't miss living in San Francisco anymore...but it's pretty damn funny when it happens to Someone Else!

...or, if you need it translated, it's "The Passion of Joan of Arc" in English.

This is an incredible film! It's truly the definition of "film as art." In fact, I class this as a masterpiece. I don't think I've ever rented a movie and less than five minutes into it decided I MUST own a copy. Until now.

This silent film (shot around 1927) was directed by Carl Theodor Dreyer and stars Maria Renee Falconetti as Jeanne.

In silent movies, there was no spending millions and millions of dollars on special effects and computer-generated characters and sets and Dolby THX sound (well, duh on that one!). In silent film, all you have, really, are these two things: Photography and expression. And La Passion de Jeanne d'Arc has both of these areas covered magnificiently!

In fact, Dreyer had ordered very elaborate and expensive (for their time) sets built for this film. But you never really see them because he uses close-ups of the actors almost exclusively. Now, if you have actors who just show up and go through the motions, you'd have a very dull film. But the cast of this film, led by Falconetti's stunning performance, really draws the viewer in. You don't need audio dialogue (or even the intertitles) to tell you what motivates the characters because it's all in their faces. The photography of this film gives it "life" in a way that I've never seen in film before.

More on Maria Falconetti: She was a stage actress, and I believe this was the only film she ever did. Falconetti masterfully takes viewers through Joan's bewilderment, fear, anger, her torment and her unshakeable faith in her life's mission and the acceptance of her fate; by the end of the film you are left completely shattered, as if you had just experienced Jeanne's ordeal yourself.

And for the "alternative/bohemian artist" set, there's a special treat: Antonin Artaud (he of the Theatre of Cruelty) does a matinee-idol turn as the monk who quietly supports and comforts Joan throughout her ordeal.

Historically, this film deals only with Joan's trial and execution. In fact, the dialogue for the film was largely taken from the transcript of her trial (which is shown at the beginning of the film). There are a few "bloopers" that got in: The "modern" glasses and scissors and the kit that the English guards are wearing looks more early 20th Century than 15th Century. However, I don't know if these bloopers made it into the original version of the film.

It seems that this film has had a rather interesting history. The original film was lost in a fire. Dreyer edited together a new version using alternate takes--and that version was believed to have been lost in another fire until it was found in a closet at in an insane asylum in Denmark! After this film was found, it was restored in the mid-80's to the version we have today. This film was heavily censored in France--seems the French didn't like the fact that Dreyer was 1) not French; and 2) not Catholic! And, of course, the English hated the film because, let's face it, they don't come off too well there. About the only place this film wasn't heavily criticized and/or censored was in the Netherlands and Norway and Denmark, whos government censors accepted the film as-is.

The music score deserves mention as well. Normally, I don't like modern musical scores to old silent films, because they just don't seem to fit. However, Voices of Light--written by Richard Einhorn--is the perfect fit to this film. The music carries the viewer through the pain and fear and treachery of the trial, and then delivers the devastating crescendo during the execution scene...all without being distracting or otherwise competing with the visuals.

Moving in its performances, stunning in it's photography and beautiful in its simplicity, La Passion de Jeanne d'Arc is not just a classic, but THE classic film that every filmmaker and every actor should aspire to.