Mighty Girl
My face.

contact: maggie at mightygirl dot net

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You'll also find me here:
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I read:
Bryan Mason
Heather Armstrong
Matthew Baldwin
Sarah Brown
Heather Champ
Matt Haughey
Eden Kennedy
Jason Kottke
Merlin Mann's 5ives
Obscure Store and Reading Room
Post Secret
Andrea Scher
Melissa Summers
Evany Thomas

10.28.03 NATHAN
Nate P., who is the kind of person you miss: "When I was home in the Bay Area a couple of weeks ago for the wedding, I had dinner with a friend, and he asked me why it is I write this blog. "What's the attraction?" he wanted to know. I can't explain all of it, but I was able to finally stumble into the idea that blogging is in part a form of prayer...

Is it a bit scary to pray here, where others can read what's going on? Yeah, but here's the thing. I believe that God is found in each of us (panentheism), that each face is the face of God, and in my particular religion, the face of Christ. Bits of the God-spark live in each of us. By sometimes praying while writing and letting other people read it, I'm not praying to any of you out there. But we all may be the agents of change for each other, working out our lives with and for one another, helping to create the kingdom of God here on earth, in our lives."

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10.27.03 LORI LOO
Observation by Loriloo:

"Don't Think That's In The Book
Observed: Overweight couple sharing a platter of Krispy Kreme doughnuts, each reading their own copy of Dr. Phil's The Ultimate Weight Solution: 7 Keys to Weight Loss Freedom."

EXPLODING DOG How long has it been since you visited Exploding Dog:

He decided not to go back there anymore
How did this get my eye?
Is this really all there is?
An what if I do?
I never expected this

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10.26.03 DONG RESIN
Dong Resin has a better tagline than you, "Speaking and removing all doubt. More funnyness:

"...My taxation suggestions for the Sunshine State :

Any insect larger than your head
Anything that big with that many hands has to have some form of currency on it. It probably has real estate holdings and a mistress. Tax that fuck.

Any dipshit with an "interesting pet"
By interesting, I mean any sad cry for attention that's not a dog, cat, or bunny rabbit. Bunny rabbits are a pretty stupid pet too, but they get a pass because nobody takes them to the beach to try to get laid. I want people who try to make themselves interesting by harboring some stupid animal to pay extra for the privilege of being allowed to be that emotionally stunted and not be routinely hunted for sport...

And by "dog", I mean a dog, not something that looks like Mr. Worf took a shit and decided to name it. Shih Tzus, Shar peis,.. anything I have to look up to spell properly, you fuckers have to pay the tax.

Any white kid who lives in a gated community but talks like Flavor Flav did when he was still on the rock has to pay $12,000 a year to the NAACP. $14,000 if he tires to intimidate people with it..."

"I see we've mapped out the genome structure of the poodle.

Naturally, I pray this will lead to some sort of cure."

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We're off to honeymoon in Asia, to return on November 1. While I'm away, please visit Mighty Girl for excerpts from my favorite blogs. Thanks for all the kind wishes and support, can't wait to tell you all about it.

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10.24.03 FRAGMENTS
Kevin Fanning's Mitosis.

Jen Robbins's Monster Bra. And her hilarious, touching rendition of "Summertime" at age five.

10.24.03 BLUE EYES
The Blue Eyes Magazine archives. You'll like them.

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Paul puts his pretty brain at F-Train:


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Photos by Jesse Chan Norris. They had no titles, so I named them because I needed a word to link:

Ferris Wheel

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10.21.03 GO MAGGIE
It's my birthday! I turn twenty-eight this year. It's been a very good year. Let's celebrate with a little bitta Leslie Harpold.

Go read Leslie's very short essays. Three of my favorites are excerpted and linked below.

To the woman who leapt out in front of me on Houston Street and jumped into the cab I had hailed, looking over her shoulder at me, saying "Survival of the fittest, sorry!" as she climbed in:

Fuck you. That was just rude.

"On Being Good"
"I am going to grab you by the collar, push my lips to your ear and whisper in my most murderous tone "I am not only a good girl I am the best good girl there is."

"Fifty Things I Did Not Do This Weekend
"7. Build a model railroad to scale. I also did not build one not to scale."

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10.20.03 DOOCE
From Dooce: "Jon and I smoked weed for the first and last time together, a little over a year ago, a horrible experience wherein Jon sat relaxed and groovy on one end of the couch and I sat uncomfortably transfixed at the other end, completely convinced that Jon was going to figure out that I couldn’t hold my shit together while high on pot and leave me for someone who could hold their shit together while high on pot. I kept repeating in my head, “Hold your shit together, hold your shit together,” and I couldn’t say anything but, “Huh?” when Jon asked how I was doing. I just knew that he knew that I was not holding my shit together and that our wonderful and loving relationship was coming to an abrupt end. After 17 or 18 “Huh?” responses I finally mustered what I thought was the most coherent sentence in the world, something that would prove to him that I was so keeping my shit together, and I said, 'I want our kids to know and to understand the magic that is Bob Marley.' A year later and we’re still together, people. It totally worked!"

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A lot of Heather's photos and projects have a quality of wonder to them. They give you the feeling of having remembered something forgotten. She took most of the photos in our Polaroid guest book at the wedding, and some of them are so lovely you could cry. (Thank you, my sweet.) Some of my favorite stuff from her other work:

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From Mimi Smartypants:

"America would be a better place if everyone dressed and acted like Prince. (The Purple One. The Artist. Whatever.) Maybe not forever and ever, because that could get tiring (not to mention hot in the summertime with all the gloves and velvet and such), but it would be so great if the entire country participated in Dress And Behave Like Prince Week. I would very much like it if, instead of sitting on his duff and speaking dryly into a microphone, Alan Greenspan made his semi-annual monetary policy reports while dry-humping a purple guitar. The male members of Congress could wear identical white pimp suits and do a big dance number in the background. The female members of Congress could wear white lycra bodysuits and some sort of sex-kitten faux-militaristic garb, like PVC captain's hats. It would add so much to the day if you went to the dry cleaner and said, "Can you do something about this stain on my raspberry beret? I think it's salad dressing, don't ask me how it got there," and your dry cleaning lady and her friend were dancing all lesbotronically and playing single notes on a Casio keyboard. And who hasn't wanted, during a boring meeting, to throw a translucent black veil over his or her head and start crawling like a demonically possessed boa constrictor across the polished boardroom table? 'Sir, I move that this is what it sounds like when doves cry!'"

"Also, today I saw a woman wearing a skirt that had a design of hats printed all over it and now I feel unsettled. I know paper towels and such often have weird things printed on them, like ducks or picnic baskets, but the skirt and hats seem a little too close together somehow. A likely analogy would be if paper towels had rolls of toilet paper printed on them. Arrggh, leave me alone, I have to think about this one."

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From Poetry Daily:

The Cadillac in the Attic
by Andrew Hudgins

After the tenant moved out, died, disappeared—
the stories vary—the landlord
walked downstairs, bemused, and told his wife,
"There's a Cadillac in the attic,"

and there was. An old one, sure, and one
with sloppy paint, bald tires,
and orange rust chewing at the rocker panels,
but still and all, a Cadillac in the attic.

He'd battled transmission, chassis, engine block,
even the huge bench seats,
up the folding stairs, heaved them through the trapdoor,
and rebuilt a Cadillac in the attic.

Why'd he do it? we asked. But we know why.
For the reasons we would do it: for the looks
of astonishment he'd never see but could imagine.
For the joke. A Cadillac in the attic!

And for the meaning, though we aren't sure what it means.
And of course he did it for pleasure,
the pleasure on his lips of all those short vowels
and three hard clicks: the Cadillac in the attic.

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From Mrs. Kennedy at What's the Fuss?:

"Almost every mother I know with a nearly-one-year-old child has her thong in a twist about planning a birthday party for a child who absolutely could not give a shit what day it is. I know how sexist this is, but it finally took a man -- one who works in the building trades, no less (i.e., a manly man) -- to straighten the whole first birthday concept out for us.

It boils down to this:
(1) Get cake
(2) Place cake in front of baby
(3) Take pictures of baby flinging cake around room
Optional: Funny hats
Not optional: Margaritas for mom. And dad, I guess, since he's paying."

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10.15.03 EUROTRASH
From Eurotrash, excerpts from "Other targets of my random hate:"
  • "Hoboken sorority sisters who assume the entire bastard subway carriage is like, rilly rilly interested in their gym routine every morning and consquently turn on their internal megaphones just so we don't miss a single ear-splitting nasally-mangled word on the way into work.
  • Men on the PATH train who imagine their sexual organs are so large they have to spread their legs wide enough to mash me into the next side of tomorrow and take up three seats...
  • People who want to talk to me on aeroplanes.
  • Men with long hair who play the guitar at parties and the girls who sit at their feet, nodding, smiling inanely, hoping for a fuck...
  • Families of five from Idaho in matching shorts and windcheaters who get off the subway train and then fan out, blocking the entire platform while they work out which fucking country they're in and which way is it to Disneyland."

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From Defective Yeti:

What Up, Boss

While at work I frequent a website where users post interesting pictures and audio clips they have found. Today a guy who works at an ad agency posted an mp3 along with this comment: "I found this audio at the start of one of the our spare tapes. No explanation, no reason it should be there. Seems to be a kid's tv program host teaching kids slang. It's overmodulated and pretty strange." I was rockin' out to Kosheen at the moment, but was sufficiently intrigued to stop my CD and click the link. A little box popped up to tell me that the mp3 was downloading at would autolaunch in winamp after a minute or so.

A few moments later my boss strolled into my office. I swiveled around in my chair to face him, turning my back to my computer. "Hey Matthew," he said sitting down,"How are you doing for time? Would you be interested in working on a new project?"

A loud voice from behind me suddenly bellowed "Awwwwwwwwww yeah! Fo shizzle!"

Bus Pass

Chatting with a female friend.

Me: I dunno what it is, but I've seen a lot of attempted pick-ups on the bus recently.
L: Yeah?
Me: It's like open season or something. Has anyone ever tried to pick you up on the bus?
L: Sure. It happens from time to time.
Me: Really? What do they say?
L: Oh, you know. They don't use "lines" or anything, they just say something to start a conversation and go from there. Like, I had my headphones on at the bus stop a few weeks ago, and this guy came up and said "So, what are you listening to?" And I said the news, because I was listening to NPR. And he said "Oh, that's too bad. You should be listening to ..." and then he went on to list his favorite bands and ask me what my favorite bands were and stuff.
Me: And that works?
L: It probably works on some girls. But not on me, because I'm not in the market and I know what they're up to. I mean, when someone comes out of nowhere and starts talking to me like that, I know they are either trying to pick me up or sell me God.
Me: [Laughs] Actually, that's my backup plan when I try and pick-up girls. If it's not going well I start pretending like I was only interested in converting them.
L: Crafty.
Me: I say "You're listening to the news? Well, have you heard the Good News?"
L: Then, you know, they're not rejecting you, they're rejecting God.
Me: Which gives me the added comfort of knowing they are going to Hell.
L: It's win-win.

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We're off to honeymoon in Asia, to return on November 1. While I'm away, please visit Mighty Girl for excerpts from my favorite blogs. Thanks for all the kind wishes and support, can't wait to tell you all about it.

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When you got married, were you afraid that you'd wake up the next morning to find a minivan, a golden retriever, and two kids? Or that suddenly your closet would be bulging with denim pinafores and patterned pastel polo tees?

Bryan says not to worry, we're more sport-wagon people than minivan people. Which is, you know, a relief.

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10.3.03 ORDER
This man on the bus is counting to himself as he rocks back and forth:

That's music to my ears."

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10.2.03 OF NOTE
If you're in San Francisco, find House of Shields on New Montgomery near Market. Walk past the bar to the women's restroom in the back. Go inside and open the door of the stall in front of you. Look for the earthquake crack running through the tiny mosaic tiles on the floor.

Follow it with your eyes until you come to the wall on your left. There, near your feet, someone has painted a pale blue sprout reaching up for light from the crack in the floor.

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Jason on proxemics:
"I stand alone in the elevator, right in the middle, equidistant from the four walls. Before the doors close, a woman enters. Unconsciously, I move over to make room for her. We stand side by side with equal amounts of space between the two of us and between each of us and the walls of the elevator. On the 12th floor, a man gets on and the woman and I slide slightly to the side and to the back, maximizing the space that each of us occupies in the elevator. At the 14th floor, another man gets on. The man in front steps to the back center and the woman and I move slightly toward the front, forming a diamond shape that again maximizes each person's distance from the elevator walls and the people next to them.

It reminds me of cell division in an embryo or the arrangement of atoms in a molecule..."

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My to-do list is my life, and my life seems to be on red alert. We're ten days out, and today I noticed that my list has ballooned into 123 items at five priority levels:

Very Good Idea

The list is done though, so that's comforting.

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