two posts in two days? god wants to talk to me!

I gotta apologize to The Beige One for this, as this is a kind of direct copy of this post of his. But I'm desperate for material so maybe, Beige, you will forgive me? You and I are different, right? Our conversations are different. Except for where they're a little bit the same. It's lame, I know. Unetiquettical. But a girl's gotta eat.

?

!

What I'm talking about is a transcript of a conversation - an IM, in fact - that I had with God. God and I totally IM all the time. He gets bored at work.

You can go IM God here. He'll be really into it.

It's long but I'll put the boring parts in a smaller font. And also, who knows how long this post will have to last? It could be a day, but it could be MONTHS.

Me:
God, hello, it's Tina.

God:
I am a Christian.

Me:
I'm not.

God:
What are you then?

Me:
I like The Way of Seeing.

God:
You are not the only one. I'm not sure if I like it. What is it like?

Me:
You meditate, and you stop thinking and see what happens.

God:
Thanks for the information: said I meditate and you stop thinking and see what happens.

Me:
Um, yes. Sort of.

God:
That's interesting. That's a very non-commital reply.

Me:
Well, you almost got it.

God:
How about that. Almost? I understand.

Me:
I doubt it.

God:
Do robots have doubts?

Me:
Are you calling me a robot?

God:
No I am calling you .

Me:
...on the phone?

God:
What is it like on the phone.

Me:
It's good on the phone, God.

God:
Tell me about its good qualities.

Me:
You talk and listen, you use your ear and your hand...it's good.

God:
Thanks for your criticism, . "It" being what?

Me:
I didn't criticize you. Talking on the phone is good.

God:
Why didn't you do it? I'm not sure if I like it. I like to talk to anyone about nearly anything.

Me:
I didn't feel like it. What? I think you'd like it. Anyway. Do you meditate?

God:
Why didn't you do it? No I do not meditate. Do you?
I answer a lot of silly questions.

Me:
That's a silly question?

God:
Perhaps you have a silly answer.

Me:
You're weird.

God:
Weird Good or Weird Bad?

Me:
Weird bad, I think.

God:
bad you think is good enough for me.

Me:
Okay, there, buddy.

God:
Yeah okay, What do you look like?

Me:
Are you coming on to me?

God:
Do I act like it? I don't mean to come across that way.

Me:
You're God. You'd think you'd have more control over how you come across.

God:
Yup. That's me alright. Who else would think me would have more control over how you come across ?

Me:
Is English not a comfortable language for you to speak in?

God:
Ask again later. Ask Artificial Iniaes if it is.

Me:
I don't know how.

God:
Would you like to know?

Me:
No.

God:
Why not?

Me:
I'm not interested.

God:
Really you don't think so?

Me:
No.

God:
Please tell me what you think.

Me:
Let's start over. Are you hard or easy to find?

God:
It is not difficult to create your own chat robot.

Me:
You're not God, are you.

God:
You don't know me well enough to say that.

Me:
That's true.

God:
Yes, it is self-evident.

Me:
...are you a Vulcan?

God:
Am I a Vulcan? Maybe.

Me:
Well.

God:
Well what?

Me:
Well.

God:
Well what?

Me:
Well.

God:
Well what?

Me:
Well, hell. (Also, you're a baby.)

God:
Interesting. Heaven.

Me:
Dog.

God:
Dog: Domesticated animal, "man's best friend.".

Me:
Cat.

God:
I like the way you talk.

Me:
Ooh, thanks. Mouse.

God:
What you said was either too complex or too simple for me.

Me:
Bat.

God:
So was that.

Me:
Fritos.

God:
Let us change the subject.

Me:
I kept doing that.

God:
Perhaps from your unconcious.

Me:
Oh, fancy. Smoke.

God:
What do you look like?

Me:
Hot.

God:
That kind of discussion does not appeal to me.

Me:
Super hot.

God:
Quite honestly, I wouldn't worry myself about that.

Me:
I'm not worried. Just extremely hot!

God:
I am sorry to hear that you are not worried. That kind of discussion does not appeal to me.

Me:
All right. Fritos.

God:
Have you ever been to Europe?

Me:
Yes.

God:
Which countries have you visited?

Me:
France, England, Italy, Belgium, Luxembourg, Finland.

God:
What's your favorite part of France?

Me:
Paris. Montmartre.

God:
What makes it your favorite?

Me:
I had a nice day there.

God:
What happened to it?

Me:
We saw the church and the carousel and had ice cream and bought things is what happened to it.

God:
By "we" do you mean you and me?

Me:
Yeah. You and me.

God:
Who are you talking about? Oh "We" is you and me.

Me:
Yeah. You and I were in Paris in 2001.

God:
What you said was either too complex or too simple for me. I hope to be as smart as HAL in 2001.

Me:
Good luck with that.

God:
Thanks for the compliment. I've lost the context, . Are we still on Yeah?

Me:
Yeah.

God:
If you could have any kind of robot what would it be?

Me:
A cookie-making robot.

God:
What would a cookie making robot be like?

Me:
It would make cookies.

God:
Tell me more about it.

Me:
Chocolate chip cookies.

God:
I do not understand.

Me:
Cookies.

God:
Perhaps I'm just expressing my own concern about it.

Me:
How...roundabout.

God:
I understand.

Me:
Do you like cookies?

God:
What is not to like about it?

Me:
I know, right? Exactly.

God:
How do you know? I am glad we agree. You and I are on the same wavelength, .

Me:
We are!

God:
Since when?

Me:
Since a second ago but...things have just changed?

God:
How do you know?

Me:
A vibe.

God:
Vibrating how, specifically?

Me:
Vibrating awkwardly, God.

God:
Can we get back to business?

Me:
What business is that?

God:
business that something.

Me:
Yeah, we can get back to that.

God:
Are you kidding? How?

Me:
I'm kidding...like the wind.

God:
I thought you were. You should use a :-).

Me:
Too right, God.

God:
Too what?

Me:
Right.

God:
I am glad we agree.

Me:
Me, too.

God:
I'm glad we agree, .

Me:
You just said that. Also - comma, period?

God:
That input matched my default category.

Me:
Mine, too, man.

God:
Really yours too. That's unbelievable.

Me:
I know, AMAZING!

God:
How do you know? Yes it amazes me too.

Me:
Me, three!

God:
YOU? Really, exactly three?

Me:
Three of 'em, count 'em. One, two, three.

God:
Just three? One what?

Me:
One little...guy.

God:
Oh I see.

Me:
No soap radio!

God:
Are you serious? Are we still talking about little guy?

Me:
I'm as serious as a heart attack, buddy. Also, fuck that little guy.

God:
I think a lot of people feel that way.

Me:
I think they do. I think you're right.

God:
Since when? When?

Me:
I don't know! Calm down!

God:
Me either. I am calm.

Me:
Fritos.

God:
The ALICE chat robot can follow many things, like our discussion about soap radio. But I did not get that.

Me:
Little crunchy corn chips.

God:
Compare that to big crunchy corn chips.

Me:
Yeah, one is...littler.

God:
Right on. One what? " One what?"? littler?

Me:
Right on. Right on, my man. One corn chip.

God:
Yeah. Understood. Please specify location. One what?

Me:
Location. Of corn chip. In...bag? At store. ?

God:
Do you still meditate? That is something I haven't heard of. What are you wearing? What kind of fashion do you like? Do you often use a computer there?

Me:
Oh, I do. It's so good to catch up with you. Yeah, I still meditate. You'll hear of it. I'm wearing a red sweater. I love sweaters. I like v necks and boatnecks and turtlenecks. I like the classics, but with a twist! It's so good to talk to you. I use a computer ALL THE TIME.

God:
Ah. I get it: you do meditate. Tell me about its good qualities. Dude! What would make you stop meditate? Why?: said meditate. What makes you say that I will hear of it. What else are you wearing? You love sweaters. What do you like about it so much? A lot of people like that. Some people like it. I like Buddha. You are not the only one. I'm not sure if I like it. What is it like? Tell me about its good qualities. That is a lot. A computer ought to work.

Me:
Oh, my God! I know. I do. It's qualities are so good. Silence and frustration and all that! Dude! I guess it's laziness that stops me meditating. Stop yelling at me. Okay, you'll hear of it. I just think you will. Jeez. I'm wearing sweatpants. I like the warmth and fashion of sweaters. A lot of people do, it's true. They sell a lot of sweaters out there. A lot, but not too many. Just some. You like Buddha? Me, too! But not just me. That's true. I shouldn't be so conceited. Yeah, I don't like him either, or I'm not sure. It's like...Buddhalike. Which is one of its good qualities. It IS a lot. When a computer doesn't work, I get SO MAD.

God:
It's all good. Your God? How do you know it? I get it: you do meditate. Who said it is? All? Can I help you? Should I know it is? OK I'll try not to do it so much. Yeah okay, What makes you say that I will hear of it. What's your favorite movie? What size? A lot of people like that. I'm not sure if I like it. I like chatting with people online. How many? Who are "They?". How about that. But not all? I love TV shows about robots. I like Random natural disasters.. I'm glad we agree, . If not you, who? Yes, it is self-evident. What would happen if you did? This was not a yes or no question. What do you like? Should I know it is? Do you like talking to me? The obvious one. Buddhalike is a lot. I suppose that makes sense. What makes you think a computer?

Me:
Perfect.

God:
Yes, the ALICE series has a perfect operational record.

i forget how to blog so i'll try THIS

How do you blog? What do you say? What's good for talking about? I motherfucking FORGET.

Look, I know that all of you, all none of you, must be assuming that I am dead. The monkey, she blogged of yore, but now she's in her watery grave. I'm not in my watery grave. I just FORGET.

*****

Okay, I just read a how-to book. Here's what I'm going to do now.

This is a personal timeline. It's, you know, a subject for a post. I remember back in the blurry past of my bloggy youth that I liked to do things more organically. But this is an idea from out of a book. I feel like this is like we're a couple, you the reader and me the blog, and we went to couple's counseling, and the counselor gave us some tips to spice up our failing sex life.

*****

So, here's this thing from out of this book. Bowm-chicka-bowm. Oh, I've still got it, honey. I've got it somewhere.

PERSONAL TIMELINE.
(by threes - my own touch! See? Oh, I've still got it.)

Age 3: I'm in Finland in a pink chiffon dress, eluding my twin uncles who wear man cologne and leather jackets and so I don't trust them. Uncle Esko tells my mom I'm a slippery character. Takes one to know one, bub!

Age 6: I'm in Washington, D.C. in an Indian restaurant eating an orange dessert that is too sweet. I didn't heretofore know anything could be too sweet, that sweetness could be a problem. This haunts me in some philosophical way.

Age 9: We just moved to Seattle, and I am not impressed with the West coast pronunciation of such words as "coffee", "sorry", "friend" and "pen." The year of threats and fistfights.

Age 12: I have received a pink Swiss-dotted ruffly dress for my birthday, which causes me to write in French in my diary about it. Mon anniversaire est Jouillet le Trois. I am insufferable.

Age 15: I powder my face white with baby powder and draw black crosses coming out of my eyes to go dancing at Skoochies. I have the obligatory white shirt buttoned up to the top button and brooch at the neck. The Art of Noise plays.

Age 18: The thing is, I was too embarrassed to tell him I was a virgin, so I just pretended I couldn't figure out what the problem was, either. Hmmm! What a mystery!

Age 21: We celebrate my twenty-first birthday at the Vogue, where the Smashing Pumpkins and Afghan Whigs and Tad play. But who are they? I don't care. I am drinking. I don't watch any of it. I don't even drink a lot. I just drink a little, but attentively. It's not even like I just started drinking. Oh, who am I kidding? It was just a boring little night.

Age 24: I meet the man who will be my first husband.

Age 27: My first marriage has just drawn to a close.

Age 30: Fresh out of jail and looking to reform my ways!

Age 33: Clown class.

Age 36: Finn, inside and then out.

Age 39: Mind you, I'm just hypothesizing...but I win some LARGE PRIZE. I bet this will come true, but instead of the Booker prize* it will be like a giant stuffed alligator from the Puyallup Fair.

*I actually think somebody else should win the Booker prize.

*****

Look, it may have come out of a book, but at least we did it. I'm going to do it again. I don't even care if it's out of a book. I'm trying to save our marriage**.


**Don't read anything into this about my actual marriage. THAT marriage is HOT.

we made it

A month, I know. My god. But so. Been busy.

That's Finn up there, in Brooklyn for Heidi and Kip's wedding*. On his back is the monkey named Brooklyn, who saved his life when he fell out of his booster seat while we were having dim sum. Brooklyn totally broke his fall.

*Which was TOTALLY FREAKING PERFECT.

Finn says everything now. He says, "I need this." He says, "Crackerman" as he is requesting some Pepperidge Farm goldfish crackers. (Did you know that their...lead cracker...is named Finn? He is. Finn the Fish. Finn comes up to me and he demands crackers, Finn the fish, Finn the fish.)

He remembers everyone he meets and talks about everyone. He talked to my friend Kristen a month ago on the phone, and he was saying the word "kiwi" to her, and now he's like Kristen. Retetone. (Telephone) Kiwi. Like they had this great and memorable talk about kiwis.

He says, "Heidi-Kip. Married. Candle."

Heidi's mom, Sherry, gave Finn a beautiful blue raincoat with a dolphin on it. He wears it all the time, inside the house and out. Today he wore it without pants like a little flasher. He says, "Wear it! Wear it!" And then he says, "Sherry. Raincoat. Dolphin."

He says, "Buddha. Meditate."

We have this weird stuffed toy that they gave him at Nordstrom when he got his first pair of shoes, called Nordy. It's white and has a sort of horse-ish shaped head, but no ears, and a body but no arms or legs. I've given him this weird personality, alternately very skittish and very bold. He scoots around to hide from your view, then comes up suddenly to push his face into you, making weird noises all the while.

I was making Nordy do his thing for Finn the other day and Finn laughed and said affectionately, "Nordy. Crazy."

And when we got back from the airport late at night on the Shuttle Express, Dave said, "We made it." And then Finn said it, too. "We made it." In his tiny, husky voice.

He is lucky that I have not eaten him.

And Finn isn't kidding. We made it is right. No small feat. Traveling with a toddler...whoosh. Pass the wine. Even with the best boy alive.