tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-51116508295488553112023-11-15T11:18:17.521-05:00Concerning The...My random musings on everything from peanut butter to the proletariat and from God to Gouda.Britt Farbohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15888220065227218740noreply@blogger.comBlogger31125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5111650829548855311.post-88461073200234694622009-06-13T23:57:00.001-04:002009-06-13T23:58:24.631-04:00I am moving my blogwww.concerningthe.wordpress.com<br /><br />You will be able to follow my escapades through that site!<br /><br />Thanks,<br /><br />Britt FarboBritt Farbohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15888220065227218740noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5111650829548855311.post-66569890292568395892009-06-11T23:11:00.003-04:002009-06-11T23:44:23.862-04:00Some Disassembly Required<div style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); font-family: arial; text-align: center;"><div style="text-align: left;">I am going on a trip. I know that I have been talking, planning, and scheming about it for many months. 'I am going to Norway'...'Jei vil reise til norge'...Has been my mantra for months. Now the time is almost here only 14 more days, one fortnight, two weeks till I leave. I have a few things I still need to do, figure out how to get to New Jersey, say some final good-byes, sell some more things, decide to leave the handball and get a new one when I get there. These are gladly the most pressing issues in my life right now.<br /><br />I have been slowly disassembling my life whether consciously or unconsciously for the past year. Having things fall away. My partner of four years left, I had to move out of my apartment of three years, sold my car of two, and left my job of one. It is a strange thing to disassemble your life piece by piece, year by year. I have to give major kudos to people who peel back the layers of decades. I am looking forward. I am going on a trip.<br /></div><span class="TimesRoman14"><i><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />All the Hemispheres</i><br /></span></div><div style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); font-family: arial; text-align: center;"><span class="TimesRoman12"> Hafiz<br /></span></div><div style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); font-family: arial; text-align: center;"><span class="TimesRoman12"><br /></span></div><div style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); font-family: arial; text-align: center;"><span class="TimesRoman12">Leave the familiar for a while.<br /></span></div><div style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); font-family: arial; text-align: center;"><span class="TimesRoman12">Let your senses and bodies stretch out.<br /></span></div><div style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); font-family: arial; text-align: center;"><span class="TimesRoman12"><br /></span></div><div style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); font-family: arial; text-align: center;"><span class="TimesRoman12">Like a welcomed season<br /></span></div><div style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); font-family: arial; text-align: center;"><span class="TimesRoman12">Onto the meadows and shores and hills.<br /></span></div><div style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); font-family: arial; text-align: center;"><span class="TimesRoman12"><br /></span></div><div style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); font-family: arial; text-align: center;"><span class="TimesRoman12">Open up to the Roof.<br /></span></div><div style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); font-family: arial; text-align: center;"><span class="TimesRoman12">Make a new water-mark on your excitement<br /></span></div><div style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); font-family: arial; text-align: center;"><span class="TimesRoman12">And love.<br /></span></div><div style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); font-family: arial; text-align: center;"><span class="TimesRoman12"><br /></span></div><div style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); font-family: arial; text-align: center;"><span class="TimesRoman12">Like a blooming night flower,<br /></span></div><div style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); font-family: arial; text-align: center;"><span class="TimesRoman12">Bestow your vital fragrance of happiness<br /></span></div><div style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); font-family: arial; text-align: center;"><span class="TimesRoman12">And giving<br /></span></div><div style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); font-family: arial; text-align: center;"><span class="TimesRoman12">Upon our intimate assembly.<br /></span></div><div style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); font-family: arial; text-align: center;"><span class="TimesRoman12"><br /></span></div><div style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); font-family: arial; text-align: center;"><span class="TimesRoman12">Change rooms in your mind for a day.<br /></span></div><div style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); font-family: arial; text-align: center;"><span class="TimesRoman12"><br /></span></div><div style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); font-family: arial; text-align: center;"><span class="TimesRoman12">All the hemispheres in existence<br /></span></div><div style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); font-family: arial; text-align: center;"><span class="TimesRoman12">Lie beside an equator<br /></span></div><div style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); font-family: arial; text-align: center;"><span class="TimesRoman12">In your heart.<br /></span></div><div style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); font-family: arial; text-align: center;"><span class="TimesRoman12"><br /></span></div><div style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); font-family: arial; text-align: center;"><span class="TimesRoman12">Greet Yourself<br /></span></div><div style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); font-family: arial; text-align: center;"><span class="TimesRoman12">In your thousand other forms<br /></span></div><div style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); font-family: arial; text-align: center;"><span class="TimesRoman12">As you mount the hidden tide and travel<br /></span></div><div style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); font-family: arial; text-align: center;"><span class="TimesRoman12">Back home.<br /></span></div><div style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); font-family: arial; text-align: center;"><span class="TimesRoman12"><br /></span></div><div style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); font-family: arial; text-align: center;"><span class="TimesRoman12">All the hemispheres in heaven<br /></span></div><div style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); font-family: arial; text-align: center;"><span class="TimesRoman12">Are sitting around a fire<br /></span></div><div style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); font-family: arial; text-align: center;"><span class="TimesRoman12">Chatting<br /></span></div><div style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); font-family: arial; text-align: center;"><span class="TimesRoman12"><br /></span></div><div style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); font-family: arial; text-align: center;"><span class="TimesRoman12">While stitching themselves together<br /></span></div><div style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); font-family: arial; text-align: center;"><span class="TimesRoman12">Into the Great Circle inside of<br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); font-family: arial;font-family:'Times New Roman', Times, serif;color:#b9abe4;" class="TimesRoman12" >You.</span></div>Britt Farbohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15888220065227218740noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5111650829548855311.post-76407037178108587982009-06-08T21:55:00.007-04:002009-06-08T22:52:02.858-04:00It Makes No DifferenceI was at the Tune Inn today my favorite dive bar in the world...I put on the jukebox the usual...Some Willie, Waylon, a little Steve, but today something persuaded me to just throw on The Band. I don't know what compelled me to play "It Makes No Difference" . I had not played that song since I had lived in the pool hall, and quite frankly it is a really kind of sad song. The one thing that is funny about bars is you can tell when people are listening, the place hums just a little quieter. People stop their conversations for a few breaths Sitting at the bar flanked by a member of congress and old friend, a new friend who is an old union man, and a few Vietnam Vets. Sipping a Natty Boh, eating okra and and catching the aftertaste of Marlboro 100's coming from the patio. I saw something magical. A group of people heaving a collective sigh, stopping, doing a u-turn and going back for just a split second. To what I am not sure, really it is not my place to pry or press. I can only say my memory went to people, places and loves.<br /><br /><object width="500" height="405"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/nJXc0NRCmRQ&hl=en&fs=1&rel=0&color1=0x2b405b&color2=0x6b8ab6&border=1"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/nJXc0NRCmRQ&hl=en&fs=1&rel=0&color1=0x2b405b&color2=0x6b8ab6&border=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="500" height="405"></embed></object>Britt Farbohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15888220065227218740noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5111650829548855311.post-37911817026841372692009-06-05T11:04:00.000-04:002009-06-05T11:55:06.500-04:00Family PlanningAs many of you who read this blog know...Well the two of you who regularly read this blog know...I have not always had the gotten along with my family. It is not that I don't love them, care for them or even worry about them. It is really that I don't like them very much. It is like I guess the Americans and the French. We are both in NATO, have shared interest abroad, we periodically fight wars together, trade goods, and intelligence. But, in reality we would rather just not have to deal with each other on a day to day basis. I guess it comes down to style. <br /><br />I was home for the first time in four years a few weeks ago. I bit my tongue the entire time. I should not have. In not speaking up I did not only a disservice to everything that I stand for, I did a disservice to my family. Even though my family has know I was a BIG Ol' HOMO since I was fourteen...I spent nearly the entire trip and most of the past decade in sort of a mental 1984 in regards to them. Weighing my words, cutting out large portions of my life, not speaking about my friends because they are gay. I have never had a real conversation about my ex-partner, my friends, or my activism with my family. I have never felt like I was good enough for them. I have always felt like I am an embarrassment to them. <br /><br /> I will be twenty-five in less than a month and it has taken me twenty-two years to come to the conclusion that I will probably never get what I need out of my family. That every action that I choose to take in my life will be seen as some sort of act of subversion. I have also learned that I have to love the family, but this does not mean I must walk lock step with them. That I do not have to feel guilty for challenging them on their prejudices. That I must live my life with radical and uncompromising fervor in the world especially with my family. <br /><br /><br />I want to have my own family in the near future. I want children, a wife, a mortgage, my own small business. I want everything that is assumed my younger siblings will have at about my age. But, in order to do this I must start being honest and more open with the family that I was raised in. I have to break my own self imposed censorship. I can not fear them anymore. I can not think about starting a family of my own until I can manage the fear of the one that I have. <br /><br />BFBritt Farbohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15888220065227218740noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5111650829548855311.post-42557896206913399212009-05-11T20:18:00.003-04:002009-05-11T21:49:03.371-04:00I head home to Arizona a week from tomorrow. First time in a very long time three and a half years to be exact. I have my reasons for not going back sooner, some of it is life going on, some of it is money, and the big part of it is because... Well I have been afraid to. I am not sure what I am most afraid of, is it that home has not changed at all or that I have changed too much, or the reverse of that. <br /><br />I miss the Southwest everyday. I am not sure why I miss the west, I guess it is a soul thing. Sometimes when I am in traffic I hear the familiar 'BOOM..BOOM...BOOM' followed by the wail of an accordion, coming from a neighboring car. I don't care how cold it is I will roll down my windows. Growing up it used to drive me nuts 'BOOM...BOOM..BOOM' all the time everywhere you went. The Ranchero men in their white wranglers, silk shirts, and snake skin cockroach killer boots. Whistling at you from the window of their trucks through their gold capped teeth, heads crowned with a cowboy hat that looked like a taco. To the fanfare of 'Boom...Boom...Boom'. What once was one of my biggest peeves is now a quaint reminder of home. <br /><br />I also miss the smells and the feel of the air. Beans, lard heavy tortillas, dirt, horses, saddle soap, hay, and sweat. I have never run across that combination anywhere else but home. The wind blows nine million miles an hour, almost everyday. It is hot, dry and clear; sound and smell travel far. During onion season, the smell carries from the fields to the cotton gin about seven miles away. At night you can get the faint smell of alfalfa, cotton trash and mesquite. As the desert cools down the air hits this perfect temperature it is warm and soft; like a perfectly drawn bath that is made with still air. <br /><br />The drop in temperature is the internal cue for any good desert rat to stop and look west. The sky is set a blaze like an O'Keeffe interpretation of Pollack. Aubergine, teal, crimson, shredded by blacks, grays, and white are strewn across the heavens. No rhyme or reason to the madness of colors, yet always as it should be. Chaotic and cosmically necessary, like god sweeping away the mandala of the day that has been created. The stars and moon start to rise as the air gets cooler, and in that moment you know that you are apart of everything, but are nothing in every breath you take. <br /><br />I am still really scared to go home, but I guess I can not anticipate I can just be. Even if the people and places have changed, even if things get strained and old hurts are brought up at least I know I can get a good burrito and watch the sun go down.Britt Farbohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15888220065227218740noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5111650829548855311.post-87331090459351497012009-05-06T08:59:00.003-04:002009-05-06T09:16:08.821-04:0010 Things I have learned this Spring10. One acquires a lot of useless crap after living in an apartment for almost three years. <br /><br />9. Sometimes a little apathy is needed to get the most good done.<br /><br />8. You can not always 'Fix' people...It is like nailing JELL-O to a hot wall.<br /><br />7. No big change ever just sneaks up on you...It is a combination of many little changes. <br /><br />8. Never trust a French Woman!<br /><br />6. Taking a handball to the face is like getting a little glimpse of nirvana...It knocks all unnecessary thoughts out of your head...Plus once the sting subsides it feels pretty good.<br /><br />5. Ikke spise gul sno! <br /><br />4. I am going to need help getting my life either boxed or sold.<br /><br />3. ABBA wrote some pretty awesome break up songs.<br /><br />2. Never add your Grandmother as a friend on Facebook.<br /><br />1. I AM GOING TO NORWAY!Britt Farbohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15888220065227218740noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5111650829548855311.post-37769833341816310962009-04-13T20:25:00.003-04:002009-04-13T20:48:55.307-04:00Disconnection'I am sorry the number you have been trying to reach has been disconnected or is no longer in service.'<br /><br />I leave for Norway in 53 days. Body is here...Brain is not!Britt Farbohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15888220065227218740noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5111650829548855311.post-36267201212085003022009-03-25T23:36:00.002-04:002009-03-25T23:38:23.812-04:00Clarification of Post Below....It is a yearly ritual that I partake in. It does not mean that I am going to do any thing stupid...It just means that I am thinking about what is ahead of me. It is also so if something does happen god forbid, crap gets taken care of. <br /><br />Sorry if I freaked anybody out.<br /><br />Love, <br /><br />BrittBritt Farbohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15888220065227218740noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5111650829548855311.post-85915541505168842492009-03-25T21:42:00.003-04:002009-03-25T23:52:56.417-04:00In The Event of My Death...Okay I know the title of this blog is a bit shocking...But, I have been thinking a lot about death recently. Not in a morbid self-destructive kind of way but more in an all things manifest to an end, which is a beginning sort of way. I also am going overseas for the first time soon, and hopefully if I die over there it will be in the arms of a beautiful woman, after a great handball match, full of potatoes, pork chops, waffles, and good aquavit, chased with cold beer. So here it goes the last will and testament of Brittany Celeste Farbo of Kansas Settlement, Arizona age 24. <br /><br />I want to be cremated, and a simple service from the BCP to be held at St. A's. <br />There will be a keg of Shiner Bock and Aquavit if the vestry allows it. I want the Immigrant Song by Led Zepplin, Thank You For The Music and Dancing Queen by ABBA, Wasn't Born to Follow by Dusty Springfield played. Dancing Queen should be played at the end. Immigrant Song played at the beginning. I want everybody to sing The Internationale. I also want people sent forth from the line from Blazing Saddles "Now, go do that Voodoo that you do so well."<br /><br />I will be cremated wearing my Tonje Larsen Jersey, what ever jeans don't stink too bad, my duct taped roper boots, and my Maryland Cap. I don't plan on having anything of significant value, so what ever I have goes to the Vets. As for the issue of what to do once I am smoked. <br /><br />Some of me goes to my friend Tasha Cooper. She will know what to do with them, a little zip around downtown Silver City and PJ Harvey, Sonic, and Wal-Mart at an obscene hour. Then she can flush me for all I care but since she is all artsy and what not she will find a good spot. <br /><br />Some goes to my Fairy God-mother Kyra Kerr to hang out at St. Bede's. God love em'. <br /><br />Some goes to my parents...even though I can't stand them they would need closure as well. <br /><br />Some goes to my friend Ted Prezelski...Tonapah. <br /><br />Some goes to my Comrades Renee and Patrick Ryan...Take me for a drink, a really faggy night and sing The Internationale. <br /><br />Some will hang out in DC. <br /><br />Finally what ever is left I want to stay in Norway. Where my name began and where it shall always remain. <br /><br />No service will be held in Willcox. It has never been my home, no notice will be put in the paper. <br /><br />After the service, I would like everybody to go to the Tune Inn and eat okra, drink beer and play the Jukebox. <br /><br />I think that this is pretty cut and dry. Feel free to add but not take away. I also want Heather and Deb Mizuer to make sure that this is taken care of. They have the keg-erator therefor it defaults to them. <br /><br />March 25, 2009<br /><br /><br />Brittany C. Farbo<br /><br />Yes I am sane.<br />Totally Okay...Britt Farbohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15888220065227218740noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5111650829548855311.post-84790180421015446862009-03-20T09:30:00.002-04:002009-03-20T09:33:56.643-04:00Fin...<div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255); font-family: 'lucida grande'; ">Catherine moves out tomorrow...</span>
<br /></div><span style=""><div style="text-align: center;">
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<br /></div></span><center style="text-align: center;"><object width="425" height="344"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/Qh1UxhOMw60&hl=en&fs=1&rel=0"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/Qh1UxhOMw60&hl=en&fs=1&rel=0" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object></center><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'lucida grande';"><div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255);"><div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">On to Scandinavia.
<br /></div></span></span></span>Britt Farbohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15888220065227218740noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5111650829548855311.post-64766821305123429232009-03-05T15:09:00.009-05:002009-03-05T16:30:57.485-05:00My Three ABBA's<span style="color: rgb(51, 204, 255);font-family:georgia;font-size:100%;" ><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;">In happiness and sadness. In joy and in stupor... I turn to my three ABBA's</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;">Abba #1: The tasty fish products, I have eaten nearly a whole tube of Salmon and Roe paste in the past 24 hours. </span><br /><center style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"><a href="http://s76.photobucket.com/albums/j5/Brittfarbo/?action=view&current=5515-main675w.jpg" target="_blank"><img src="http://i76.photobucket.com/albums/j5/Brittfarbo/5515-main675w.jpg" alt="Photobucket" border="0" /></a></center><br /><br /><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"><br /><br />Abba#2:</span><br /><br /><br /><br /><center style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"><object width="425" height="344"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/4069PUk3aM0&hl=en&fs=1"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/4069PUk3aM0&hl=en&fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object></center><br /><br /><br /><br /><center style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"><object width="425" height="344"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/4ohr4P8E_io&hl=en&fs=1"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/4ohr4P8E_io&hl=en&fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object></center><br /><br /><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;">Abba #3:</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;">Well I don't really have a picture for that one....</span><br /><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;">Britt</span><br /></span>Britt Farbohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15888220065227218740noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5111650829548855311.post-82021688191764634422009-03-04T10:40:00.002-05:002009-03-04T10:49:10.591-05:00A Psalm by Neil Young sung by Emmylou Harris, Linda Ronstadt, and Dolly Parton<center><embed src="http://www.guba.com/f/root.swf?video_url=http://free.guba.com/uploaditem/2000891068/flash.flv&isEmbeddedPlayer=true" quality="best" bgcolor="#FFFFFF" menu="true" name="root" id="root" scalemode="noScale" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" pluginspage="http://www.macromedia.com/go/getflashplayer" width="375" align="middle" height="360"></embed></center><div style="text-align: center; color: rgb(192, 192, 192);"><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">After the Gold Rush</span></span><br /></div><br /><div style="text-align: center; font-family: georgia; color: rgb(192, 192, 192);">Well I dreamed I saw the knights in armor coming<br />Saying something about a king<br />There were peasants singing and drummers drumming<br />And the archer split the tree<br />There was a fanfare blowing to the sun<br />That was floating on the breeze<br />Look at mother nature on the run<br />In the twenty-first century<br />Look at mother nature on the run<br />In the twenty-first century </div><p style="text-align: center; font-family: georgia; color: rgb(192, 192, 192);">I was lying in a burned out basement<br />With the full moon in my eyes<br />I was hoping for replacement<br />When the sun burst through the sky </p><p style="text-align: center; font-family: georgia; color: rgb(192, 192, 192);">There was a band playing in my head<br />And I felt like I could cry<br />I was thinking about what a friend had said<br />I was hoping it was a lie<br />Thinking about what a friend had said<br />I was hoping it was a lie </p><p style="text-align: center; font-family: georgia; color: rgb(192, 192, 192);">Well I dreamed I saw the silver spaceships flyin'<br />In the yellow haze of the sun<br />There was laughing, crying and colors flying<br />All around the chosen one </p><div style="text-align: center; font-family: georgia; color: rgb(192, 192, 192);">All in a dream, all in a dream, the loading had begun<br />Flying mother nature's silver seed to a new home in the sun<br />They were flying mother nature's silver seed to a new home </div>Britt Farbohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15888220065227218740noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5111650829548855311.post-6760979397501745932009-02-28T17:50:00.004-05:002009-02-28T18:49:23.332-05:00The Gospel According to...Mr. Rogers<center><object width="425" height="344"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/wr4QyuimnPs&color1=0xb1b1b1&color2=0xcfcfcf&hl=en&feature=player_embedded&fs=1"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/wr4QyuimnPs&color1=0xb1b1b1&color2=0xcfcfcf&hl=en&feature=player_embedded&fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object></center><br /><br /><span class="sqq"></span><center style="font-family: verdana; color: rgb(255, 0, 0);">"At the center of the universe is a loving heart that continues to beat and that wants the best for every person. Anything we can do to help foster the intellect and spirit and emotional growth of our fellow human beings, that is our job.<br />Those of us who have this particular vision must continue against all odds. <br />Life is for service."<br />Mr. Fred McFeely Rogers<br /></center>Britt Farbohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15888220065227218740noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5111650829548855311.post-10033007633581623532009-02-25T22:57:00.004-05:002009-03-20T09:35:25.589-04:00The Gospel According to Joni<span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 204);font-family:arial;">My love of Joni Mitchell goes back to my days when I spent most of my time hanging out in a pool hall in Silver City, New Mexico run by a guy named Jim who went AWOL during Viet Nam and his wife Christine from Canada. I just remember sitting on the stools day after day with Christine and listening to Joni Mitchell on vinyl, just feeling really shitty, scared and eighteen. We would just sit and listen to this voice in deep meditation, trying to understand what the fates put into the music </span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 204);font-family:arial;"><br />I guess all of us who hung out at the pool hall were all searching for something, a family, acceptance, answers, or really just a place to be. This pool hall in the middle of the Mimbres Mountains was a hermitage for us who had nowhere else. We shot pool, ate peanut butter sandwiches, and drank Dr. Pepper out of glass bottles. We cried, fought, fell in love, said goodbye, had one night stands we regretted and watched as friends went off to fight Dubbyas stupid war. We got stoned on really good sticky weed, and on Sonic at two in the morning. While all of the trappings of our new found adulthood, were being narrated, punctuated, and explained by these Joni Mitchell albums on an old one speaker record player, that was picked out of a school dumpster. </span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 204);font-family:arial;"><br />The pool hall lasted as long as I did at my first attempt at college. It closed about two weeks after I moved to Santa Fe, I cried harder when I had to leave that place than I did when I left home. I did not know how I was going to get by without this place. Even now more than a half a decade later, just thinking about it still makes me want to cry. I have lost touch with the people who ran the hall, the boys that taught me how to roll a joint, the Vietnam vet who cried when I joined the Army, and the WWII vet who bought me a coke when I did. </span><br /><span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 204);font-family:arial;"><br />But, what I have not lost touch with is the meditations that Joni placed in my heart about myself, about God, and the other big things. So to end this blog posting, I would like to leave you with a list of Joni Mitchell songs to find whatever it is you are supposed to find in them. </span><br /><br /><div style="text-align: center; font-family: arial; color: rgb(102, 102, 204);">The Gospel According to Joni<br /><br /></div><br /><br /><br />Britt<br /></span>Britt Farbohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15888220065227218740noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5111650829548855311.post-13669171549696282062009-02-25T22:21:00.005-05:002009-02-25T22:56:52.495-05:004+150 Give or Take...I have this crazy notion that the gospel and the psalms should not be confined to leather binding and rice paper. So, I have decided to add to the the four gospels and the I think 150 psalms. I think that everybody has their own version of truth, joy, thanksgiving, and sorrow. So as a part of my Lenten discipline I am going to try to post a found psalm or gospel on here as often as possible.<br /><br />BrittBritt Farbohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15888220065227218740noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5111650829548855311.post-87106018613359631092009-02-01T20:25:00.002-05:002009-02-01T20:43:08.386-05:00F@#K This!<center><object width="445" height="364"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/AUaWCcDlI5s&hl=en&fs=1&color1=0x2b405b&color2=0x6b8ab6&border=1"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/AUaWCcDlI5s&hl=en&fs=1&color1=0x2b405b&color2=0x6b8ab6&border=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="445" height="364"></embed></object></center><br /><br />To add to this wonderful lesson:<br /><br />I am fed the fuck up with this fucking shit, I just want to get the fuck out of this stupid fucked up country.Britt Farbohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15888220065227218740noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5111650829548855311.post-56598285082762892892009-01-14T11:31:00.002-05:002009-01-14T11:34:02.580-05:00What I do when I can not do anything....<center><span style="font-family: arial; color: rgb(153, 255, 255);">ABBA in Swedish as it should be!</span></center><br /><center><object width="500" height="405"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/Ky3s2967PZI&hl=en&fs=1&rel=0&color1=0x2b405b&color2=0x6b8ab6&border=1"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/Ky3s2967PZI&hl=en&fs=1&rel=0&color1=0x2b405b&color2=0x6b8ab6&border=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="500" height="405"></embed></object></center><br /><br /><span style="font-family: arial; color: rgb(153, 255, 255);">I go to my happy place.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: arial; color: rgb(153, 255, 255);">Britt</span>Britt Farbohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15888220065227218740noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5111650829548855311.post-49990096810261942952008-12-03T21:09:00.000-05:002008-12-03T21:10:15.440-05:00Prop 8-The Musical<object width="464" height="388" classid="clsid:d27cdb6e-ae6d-11cf-96b8-444553540000"><param name="movie" value="http://player.ordienetworks.com/flash/fodplayer.swf"><param name="flashvars" value="key=c0cf508ff8"><param name="allowfullscreen" value="true"><embed width="464" height="388" flashvars="key=c0cf508ff8" allowfullscreen="true" quality="high" src="http://player.ordienetworks.com/flash/fodplayer.swf" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"></embed></object><div style="text-align:center;width: 464px;">See more <a href="http://www.funnyordie.com/jackblack">Jack Black</a> videos at Funny or Die</div><br /><br />Holy Shit this is greatBritt Farbohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15888220065227218740noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5111650829548855311.post-24353984664731750922008-11-11T08:30:00.000-05:002008-11-11T08:31:09.823-05:00Special Comment....<div style="text-align: center;"><iframe height="339" width="425" src="http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/22425001/vp/27652443#27652443" frameborder="0" scrolling="no"></iframe></div>Britt Farbohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15888220065227218740noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5111650829548855311.post-37820093919222421702008-10-06T17:58:00.004-04:002008-10-06T22:19:14.160-04:00Intolerable<span style="font-family: courier new; color: rgb(102, 102, 204);">I have had this song called 'Crown of Creation' by Jefferson Airplane in my head for several weeks now. I remember the first time that I heard Jefferson Airplane I was about 11 or 12. It was the same summer between my sixth and seventh grade years, that was the same I started to discover that I may be just a little different from my peers, and it was the time that my peers noticed that I was a little bit different as well. </span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: courier new; color: rgb(102, 102, 204);">This differentness did not make my middle or high school years easy, it did not make the first few years on my own easy. It did not make the relationships with my childhood friends easy. It has been a point of contention with my family. It has made me want to crawl under my bed and never come out, it has made me contemplate running my car into traffic. It has made me run from God and, it has made me stop in my tracks. </span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: courier new; color: rgb(102, 102, 204);">I was a freshman in high school the year that Matthew Shepard was murdered. I remeber just how scared I was. From that point I learned to start living in half-truths, I never let myself be to avalible to people, I knew where my family stood and everytime I heard the word "Fag" my heart went into my skull. I hurt especially bad when one of my family members would say it even if was not directed at me. I learned to look over my shoulder, behind my back, but one thing that I never learned was to be simply tolerated. </span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: courier new; color: rgb(102, 102, 204);">Human beings are not things you tolerate. Bad basic cable reality shows, and wrong orders at the Starbucks are things you tolerate. Bikini waxings and cold pizza are things you tough out. People and the way that they are...are not things that you tough out. I am tired like many other people in this world, I am tired of not being able to go forward in the direction of my choosing because it is an election year, or because if I am a good girl then maybe just maybe I might be tolerated. <br /><br />I wrote this tirade today because well it has been not just a rough few days but, I just realized that today it has been 10 years since the Shepard Murder. I still feel like I have to watch my back. I try to live my full-truth now but I know that someday I may have to pay for it just like some of my friends all ready have, but in that grim reality there is hope, love and family made of the warmth of common truth. This common love that has been cast out of fear is the crown of my creation.<br /><br /> </span><br /><br /><div style="text-align: center; font-family: courier new; color: rgb(102, 102, 204);">You are the Crown of Creation<br /><br />You are the Crown of Creation<br />and you've got no place to go.<br /><br />Soon you'll attain the stability you strive for<br />in the only way that it's granted<br />in a place among the fossils of our time.<br /><br />In loyalty to their kind<br />they cannot tolerate our minds.<br />In loyalty to our kind<br />we cannot tolerate their obstruction.<br /><br />Life is Change<br />How it differs from the rocks<br />I've seen their ways too often for my liking<br />New worlds to gain<br />My life is to survive<br />and be alive<br />for you.<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /></div>Britt Farbohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15888220065227218740noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5111650829548855311.post-89682758627709126412008-08-28T11:02:00.003-04:002008-08-28T11:38:26.807-04:00Things I have learned this Summer...<span style="font-family: arial;">1. Always find and intermediary that will help you get between you and your crazy.</span><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">2. Never examine your eyebrows in the rear view mirror on a non payday week. </span><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">3. Frozen Bananas work better than Ice Cubes in a smoothie. </span><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">4. As hard as you may try strange cultural habits that you grew up with will inevitably rear their ugly head at the strangest time. </span><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">5. Norwegians have the best potluck sides, this is to make up for the short comings of the main course. </span><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">6. Beer with breakfast is not always the worst thing you can do. Oxycodone and Beer for breakfast is a whole other story. </span><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">7. You never really leave where you come from especially since the advent of MySpace and Facebook.</span><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">8. Daytime TV is evil. We wonder why the feminist movement happened, just watch a couple of hours of 'The View' and you will see why women want to go to work. </span><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">9. Listening to Bob Marley and the Wailers is like smoking good weed through your ears.</span><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">10. Olympic Handball is the greatest sport on the planet. I am not talking about that stupid shit with a rubber ball either. I am talking about giving some blood hand ball. </span>Britt Farbohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15888220065227218740noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5111650829548855311.post-29109664385319664502008-08-23T15:55:00.001-04:002008-08-23T15:56:22.808-04:00Last one I promise....<center><object width="425" height="344"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/X5GiP4OiU2g&hl=en&fs=1"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/X5GiP4OiU2g&hl=en&fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object></center><br /><br />My girls did it. I am totally proud.<br /><br />BrittBritt Farbohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15888220065227218740noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5111650829548855311.post-32133966621438810142008-08-22T22:06:00.002-04:002008-08-22T22:09:36.821-04:00I will be up at 3:45 AM...<object width="425" height="344"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/bhXq5B7Dfgk&hl=en&fs=1"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/bhXq5B7Dfgk&hl=en&fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object><br /><br />I have been getting up in the middle of the night for the past two weeks to watch this team go for it.<br /><br />HEIA NORGE! HEIA HAMMERSENG! HEIA NYBERG!Britt Farbohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15888220065227218740noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5111650829548855311.post-55949350614995430772008-08-21T10:11:00.002-04:002008-08-21T10:25:33.859-04:00Elsker henne håndball jenten!<center><object width="425" height="344"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/yzzXwBoTbuI&hl=en&fs=1"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/yzzXwBoTbuI&hl=en&fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object></center><br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;">HEIA NORGE!<br />Skål og lykke til!<br /></div>Britt Farbohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15888220065227218740noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5111650829548855311.post-54298945592794970002008-08-14T14:25:00.008-04:002008-08-14T15:54:32.211-04:00Holy Reflex<span style="font-family: verdana; color: rgb(51, 51, 153);">Sometimes I have these dreams where the world cracks open like an egg, just splits wide open, one side pushes off from the other. Floating out violently and poetically into the vacuum of the dark space, people, objects, animals, soil, water, fire, all of the contents of the planet just moving away into the cold. Bobbing about like anthropological driftwood, easing out into unfathomable depth that is time. </span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: verdana; color: rgb(51, 51, 153);">All of the sudden everything that anybody has built, suffered through, or fought in the name of is gone. I like this dream. I love the egalitarian nature, I love how nobody can stop it, that it happens to every molecule. How the universe redeems and reclaims what God put into motion billions of years ago. How in the cosmic reality, our time as a civilization, as a world, as a people is just a quick blink of God's eye. </span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: verdana; color: rgb(51, 51, 153);">All of us on this earth are a holy reflex of the divine, each blink and each breath of God, is as important as the one just taken, and the one to come. God does not think about the next blink or the next breath. God is not thinking if the current breath is going to be equally unique than every other breath, or if the next movement of the eye will see the same thing. God knows that every movement, every breath, every moment will be a blessing, each as achingly beautiful as the one just experienced. God has held still, watched and breathed out of love. Only asking us to the same. </span><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-family: verdana; color: rgb(51, 51, 153);">AMDG</span>Britt Farbohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15888220065227218740noreply@blogger.com0