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(Was introduced to BellX1 last night and I really like the simplicity of their song “Light Catches Your Face”.)
Jack and Lorelei’s swimming lessons are going AMAZINGLY. It’s shocking to me to see my kid zoom around the pool under water like an otter. It’s truly that feeling of my heart hurting with pride for him. Aside from my nightmares of drowning being subdued, it’s just great to see him succeed in an arena that he was so far behind in.
Jack’s teacher has experience with RDI, and has given me the number of someone in Chicago to call to see about finding someone in KC. My cursory refresher on the method makes me think it could possibly be beneficial, yet I’m obviously feeling reticent because I still haven’t called and I’m not sure why. Maybe because he’s doing wonderfully and I don’t want to go through the drain that therapies like that can do to expectation and hope? Or because I’m gun-shy to shell out the money after being thoroughly swindled by that guy in the DAN! program? Not sure. Navigating the world of autism sucks.
Took Jack to the doctor today. His cough was just some inflammation leftover from whatever cold he had recently, and after the doc gave me an inhaler to soothe the lining it was voila, cough-be-gone. I feel furthering contentment with my choices regarding health and my kids; my instincts continue to work, and I’m proud of my parenting.
It will be final next week, and I think there’s more peace than people would think (though the point is that no one outside of it could know, so opinions altogether really in theory shouldn’t exist). We’re both dating, and our communication is still good. It took so much longer than I ever would have thought possible, but again, I think it was for the best as far as transitions for everyone.
And the thing is, I had talked to Jon months ago about permission to flesh out my feelings on here, but I’ve found since then that I just don’t have the desire, and in fact it feels like feeding some stupid gossip beast to do so. I’ve always been pretty candid about my thoughts, but I’ve changed a lot this last year, and though I know there is at least one person out there who reads this hoping for a kernel of information, the truth is that at this point, if we’re not friends enough that you would already know, you don’t need to. I don’t even say that snarkily. I’m just done with my life being the fodder for bored people.
I’m happy, I think Jon’s happy, the kids are more loved now than ever before – we’re doing fine, despite that the idea might shatter preconceptions of divorce.
Religion/People Who Suck:
Saw Bill Maher’s Religulous last week. My disdain for his arrogance didn’t wane with this, but I learned some history about the Egyptian religion (namely Horus?) and the coincidences of Christianity. I find it… disturbing that I had never learned this before. It appears to discredit a lot of the Christian tenets, and I think it should be researched by anyone claiming to be a Christian, not only to strengthen faith, but also as knowledge to arm yourself against a conversation with.. oh I don’t know.. a skeptic like me. Similar denunciations were found in the barely functional, unabashedly-conspiracy theoried ‘documentary’ Zeitgeist, and I’d be lying if I said I didn’t feel like a fool for having had the wool pulled over my eyes for so many years.
Thing is, I’m sure they connected some dots for drama, but most of this you couldn’t have made up. I mean, this is just simple history, but either I’ve never had that chapter in school, or it’s just not part of the teachings in the MULTIPLE DENOMINATIONS I’ve attended through the years. And I tell you what, but I’m basically done with organized religion. I’ve been leaning toward that for a while now, but after this last year and the things that have been said to me.. blerg.. I’m just done. Some of the meanest people I’ve ever met were Christians, and combining that with my own research on supercessionism and general irrefutable hypocrisies, and I’m just not comfortable anymore subscribing to something I think is at best flawed and at worst mythical.
So. Ok. Now that that’s out, let me amend to say I know I sound all types of dramatic, but I’m really not intending to. I’m just finally having the courage to say out loud what I’ve doubted in my mind for a long time. And even after that verbal diarrhea I’ll say that I feel agnostic about the whole subject. I don’t know what is or isn’t out there, and if in three years I’m somewhere else (or back), so be it. Shrug.
And… that’s all the semi-heavy stuff for today, I gotta clean. I’ve been craving more stimulating conversation lately, so if anything I’ve mentioned sparks a thought, please (please) feel free to comment (anonymously or otherwise), even if you disagree with what I’ve said. My commitment to the blog has changed as the catharsis of it has changed, and I’m leaning toward something that isn’t just simple updates. More topically-based, maybe? I dunno. If it doesn’t work I’ll go back to status-commenting on FB, but I’d like to see.
Let the wild rumpus start, and all that.
I swear I had full intentions to post something coherent today; I even tried to set aside time this week to do it. But I think this will be if not an epic fail, at least a substantial one. I’m sorry. I’ve got myself a tidy little cold, and the only positive thing about it is that being this stuffed up, the acoustics in my head when I sing are uhhmaaazing. Other than that I’m drinking vitamin C-laced hot water like crazy, and walking around in a tired fog.
Let’s see.. Jack and Lorelei started swim lessons last week. The gal who is teaching them is an older Jewish (I’m guessing) ex-New Yawker (pretty sure about this one) who apparently used to run an autism program somewhere. Whatever, she’s hysterical and the best teacher for my particular knuckleheads. She’s very (on par with the above-mentioned stereotypes) no-nonsense, and you could tell she was smitten with Jack’s eagerness, which, if you remember from last year, is a tremendous 180. I’m pretty stoked.
I’m also stoked because I’m headed on over to Colorado next weekend with the kids and my mom and sister for a short trip and SWEET JEEBUS I CAN’T TELL YOU HOW MUCH I NEED THIS.
In exciting news, in a few weeks I’ll be moving into the little blue house that sits next door to the house I work out of! My boss’s brother owns the house (but lives in CA), and is giving me a pretty sweet deal on rent. I’m so excited to do this I am almost unable to verbalize it. Really. That big. So if you’re free any weekend in the next couple months, let me know. Best of all I get my beloved, cantankerous old-man cat, Lucky, back. That grumpy old goat has been with me for almost 12 years, and I miss him something fierce. I might bring that stupid Oscar too, but I think it’s funny hearing the stories Jon tells me about him knocking over the Britta pitcher at night. (Heh. I kid, I’ll see if I can bring them both.)
[So, in an ADD look-a-squirrel sidenote, I’ve been singing this song non-stop for a few weeks now. It’s Band of Horses – “The Funeral”, and I was convinced it was a side/new project from the lead singer of Sunny Day Real Estate, but it’s not. I’m curious if anyone else thinks they sound the same, though.]
Hmm… Took the kids to the movie Up this weekend and it was.. erm.. disjointed. Odd, mostly. Predictably sweet because it was Pixar, with one particularly sad part, but meh overall. Ironic since they opened with a montage of all the cool movies they’ve made <<scratches head>>. Moving on to television, I’m officially kind of embarrassed to admit that I’ve been watching the first and second seasons of Friday Night Lights. It’s so soap operaish, with every conceivable after-school special theme possible. First season alone they dealt with underage drinking, underage sex, parapalegics, steroids, rape, infidelity, deadbeat dads, deadbeat moms, Alzheimers and football in Texas, of course. But like a fool, I keep watching. Shrug.
(I’m also reading the book The Stone Diaries for my book club, so that renews some brain cells, right?)
And, I think that just about sums up everything I could think to talk about at the moment, my brain now officially hurts. But as a last appeal, if you help me move I’ll give you some of my totally-stolen-from-Hippy-Chick spaghetti sauce, because it’s da bomb.
Have a great week, everyone.
Sorry, I know that’s super lame. But I hate titles and have the Wicked musical soundtrack in my sleep deprived gourd.
So let’s see.. things are hectic. I’m liking my job pretty well – it can be stupidly crazy at times, but the pace and juggling reminds me of the dinner rush when you’re a server, and consequently time flies when I’m here. Having an office with a door I can shut helps. Did I mention I have AN OFFICE WITH A DOOR AND SOME WINDOWS? Man that’s fun. I feel like such a big girl now.
I took an impromptu trip to Chicago last week to see a band (Antony and the Johnsons, who always seem to be in Europe so this was a coup), and it was amazing. The seats were not the best, and he definitely didn’t push his voice to the registers he does on his albums, but regardless the show is up there as one of the best I’ve seen. He had an incredibly talented band with him (bass guitar, drums, cello and two violinists – one of whom was this kick ass older gal who played the clarinet and sax as well!) and the music was simply beautiful. Unfortunately, I can’t access youtube at work, so you can check out a previously posted song by him – one of my favorites and the one he encored with, “Hope There’s Someone” – for now.
We also hit up a bunch of museums and restaurants, most notably Hot Doug’s, for which we stood in line OUTSIDE for OVER AN HOUR in SUBZERO TEMPERATURES. We knew there was a wait for it usually, but hadn’t realized it was recently showcased on Anthony Bourdain’s show, so the line was ridiculous. But sweet jebus the food was worth it. Mmmmmm duck fat fries… But, you know what wasn’t worth it though? Seven Treasures restaurant in Chinatown. Holy shite that was truly the nastiest food I’ve ever attempted to eat. I mean it. The beef was grey, people. And gelatinous. And the broccoli was mushy, and ugh, my stomach’s churning just thinking about it. So.. don’t go there next time you visit, go to the four hundred other places to eat. But do check out this gallery, it’s pretty cool.
The only other thing that stands out is a suggestion of not getting into a taxi that is not in the very front of the taxi line, because the other drivers in line will go crazy with their horns in protest. It’s comical; they sound like really pissed off geese. But they ain’t kidding around – one poor sap was dumb enough to roll down his window as he passed the other taxis and got an earful.
So that was it, basically, it was a short trip. I finished Confessions of a Shopaholic (Shhh. I was looking for a silly book to read in my Dramamine-induced drug fog on the plane, but I had no idea it was that friggen bad), and started Wicked and Why Darwin Matters, both of which I’m really enjoying so far. More on the latter later, I’m sure.
And the rest of my colder-than-I-anticipated-considering-I-have-no-coat day consists of trying to jumpstart the brand new – and thoroughly dead – battery in my car. W00t. Pray that it’s not the starter, por favor, I don’t really have the time or moolah for that too.
Hope all is well in your worlds amigos.
- Interesting story postulating that global warming is irreversible. The comments at the bottom are equally as fascinating; I’d love to have a roundtable with some Christians I know..
- Speaking of, Anne Rice has had a conversion back to her Catholic roots.
- So Brain Age said I was like.. 78? Yeah, well, suckit, Nintendo. I knew I was smarter than your silly little game.
- Mercury in high fructose corn syrup? Despite obnoxious ad campaigns suggesting how healthy it is? Whodathunkit!
- Two very thought-provoking films I’ve seen recently were Milk and Business of Being Born. Would love to have a discussion with anyone about the social issues they encompass.
- Reading this and digging it; lurve Chuck Klosterman.
- The song “Count Souvenirs” by Junior Boys has been on repeat lately. It’s awesomely Depeche Mode-y.
That’s all. Stay warm, friends~ .
1. My back hurts. I either pulled a muscle that will heal or I herniated a disk and am slowly dying a painful and hunched-over death. Ibuprofen and ice help, so I’ll assume I’ll live.
2. I’m getting very grumpy about finding a job. I don’t know what’s worse: no bites or being strung along and then told the job has been frozen due to the economy.
3. I watched the movie The Wrestler and highly suggest it. I dig Darren Aronofsky and give him (as everyone else has) mad props for eliciting a phenomenal performance from an historically creepy Mickey Rourke.
4. I finished Bill Bryson’s A Walk in the Woods and also recommend it. Partially because it was a reminder for me of camping as a kid, but mostly because the book is guffaw funny in many parts. Really. Like quietquiet BRUAHAHASNORT quietquiet kind of reading. Plus he sneaks in some history before you’ve even realized it. Clever fella, this guy.
5. My kids crack me up. Recently we started a game that goes as follows:
Me (to kids): Guess what?
Me: I love you!
Yeah, I know, it’s a happy loving cheesefest. Well, then one day, unaware that the game had been created, Jon answered ‘chicken butt’ to Jack’s initial question. A totally acceptable instinctive response from a child of the 80s. Unfortunately, the introduction of that kind of out-of-the-box thinking has gotten us to this stage:
Jack: Guess what?
Jack: There are birds flying out the window.
Lorelei: Guess what?
Lo: CHICKEN FINGERS!
6. Speaking of my kids, I really don’t know which direction this plays out in the ‘What’s Grosser Than Gross’ game. The fact that last week Jack was riotously laughing about being able to continually dig a booger out of his nose, or that every time Lo – without second thought or awareness that this could be a game – would calmly lean over and slurp it right off.
Sigh. Future Prom royalty, those two. I just know it.
First, the bruise update: Still hurts to poke, but the intergalactic message seems to have faded, so I’m assuming my role as conduit is over.
Second is a random cartoon I think is funny.
Next is a picture of what a future neck-ache looks like.
Finally, a song for my beloved Team Awesome, who plays their last kickball game tonight. I think a little Andrew W.K.’s “Party Hard” is apropos, yes?
Have a good weekend!
Damn but I’m a yapper.
[First tangent: This is awesome. Tell me again why they get to host?]
So I just realized it’s been almost a week since I posted last. And it’s funny to me that that seems like a long time if I think of it in that measurement, but not if I just think back to being busy. C’est la vie and all that, eh? That and I’m sure I was thinking I’d write when I had some sort of thoughtful commentary to share. Snort.
We’re planning a float trip for this weekend, so we’re trying to get organized for that. I’m finding it funny how you can get a group of educated adults together and the details of such a seemingly uncomplicated trip (a tent, some grub, some beer and you float down a river – doesn’t require a passport or even coherent thought, actually) manage to have us all running around crashing into each other in confusion. An event planner I am not, that I know for sure now. The only preparation I’ve been doing is drinking crappy beer leftover from kickball games as a warning to my system.
THAT SAID, I think maybe my summer has been filled with a tad too many parties and a tad too few vitamins. Or maybe just nourishment in general. I counted yesterday and I literally have 30 bruises on my legs. I’ve had two people ask me honestly if I’m being beaten b/c of the bruises on my arms. It’s baaaaaaaaad. And I’ve tried to up my B’s, but it’s more than that too. When I looked on the interwebs, the causes included weight loss (check), vitamin deficiency (assumed), extended periods of stress (check) and blood disorders (uh.. let’s not go there yet). Need to step up and take care of myself, I know. I’m on it.
THAT SAID, (ahh I never get tired of my own cleverness) I took the dive and started some antidepressants this weekend. And as a disclaimer, I’m not an elitist about those at all, I think they can be necessary when all other avenues have been tried first or in tandem. But the truth is that it was really hard to break the seal that said GlaxoSmithKline on it. I have no shame in admitting my life is stupidly complicated for me right now, but I do about having to dig into the pharma candy bag. I didn’t even know how to fill my script, it’s been so long. But, that’s the kind of pride-swallowing even I am rolling my eyes at, so it’s all good. And of course the fun part is that months after we decided to lower our insurance coverage (since we don’t go to the doctor enough to warrant paying the extra hundred some-odd dollars a month) I finally need the insurance. Cost of these little happy pills per month? $140. Nice. I bet E is cheaper than that.
In other news, I watched two episodes of Hopkins and am now boycotting it. The first yanked my heartstrings when it followed a toddler getting a heart transplant. But yay! he survived and all the tears turned happy in the end. But the second one followed the family of a little girl who essentially drowned, and the entire world was privy to everything from the mother’s vomiting reaction to the decision of taking her off life support. Personally I thought it was vile and reprehensible, not to mention the worst kind of voyeurism. That’s private and unimaginable grief, and to know it was shown on television for no purpose other than to show what it’s like to work in a hospital is mind boggling. When I think of my friend’s death, I can’t even imagine cameras being there. I personally would have broken it if someone filmed what was thus far one of the most vulnerable moments of my life. I just simply think that is twisted. I know Hopkins is not the first show to do this, but I can’t believe it’s done in general, and on a major network. I dunno. I feel the same way about coverage of funerals. That’s beyond macabre to me. Ok, end rant.
[Hmm. What a downer post this is sounding like. Odd, since I’m not feeling that way currently. Guess the meds haven’t kicked in enough yet, ha!]
Ok, I think that’s about all I can think of. I didn’t finish my book club book, but it bored me, so I’ll go with that as the excuse. I’m seeing Dark Knight officially tomorrow – on IMAX! Woot! – so I’m sure I’ll be jonesing to discuss it on Wednesday. Lo’s still the cutest damn thing ever and Jack’s new thing is to yell with his mouth in an O shape and call it whistling. It’s greeeeaaaat!
I’ll leave you with a happy song. It’s not new (Timbaland’s ‘Way I Are’), but I finally snagged it, and Meg and I danced to it for like, an hour this weekend. Because yes, we are actually that dorky.
Hola, how is everyone? It will be another stupidly hot day here in the middle of America, so I’m going to take dinner to cook on the sidewalk when we’re at the park today. Sigh. I hate summer. YES, I DO.
So I saw Rosemary’s Baby recently. I’d always heard it was creepy as hell, but I have to say I was surprisingly (especially for me, an avowed scary movie avoider) unfrightened. Sure the premise is fascinating and plausible enough. But maybe because it was filmed in the 60s – thus for me ruining the idea of suspension of disbelief needed – or because I can’t relate to the idea of protagonists that annoyingly naive, but I couldn’t get into it. Virtually every character seemed farcical to me, so I was interested throughout, but aside from a few moments of suspense, I was not affected. And the scene at the end where she makes her final discovery was almost laughable to me, really. I mean, COME ON! And I say all this as someone with no elitism about films, so I’ll go ahead and put out there that maybe I’m the one missing something if all the film buffs I’ve ever met loved it. I like the way Polanski set up some of the shots, and the clothing/setting/makeup was great, but the rest was very eh to me. Anyone agree or disagree? What’s your favorite scary movie?
Let’s see.. Mmm haven’t seen Dark Knight yet, so I’d appreciate if everyone on earth could hold off a little longer to discuss it so I can join in, mkay? Especially because of this article about Christian Bale possibly assaulting his mother and sister. I don’t know, but I refuse to believe it. I dig Mr. Bale, and I don’t want that ruining my experience. Bah.
I have 6 days to read Reading Lolita in Tehran before my book club. It’s my challenge to do it.
And finally, the youtube installment for today is The Tiny’s ‘Closer’.
Ok, all the rambling I have for today. Happy Tuesday, friends.
So I often add some powdered hot chocolate to my morning jetfuel (Because I’m still a little too I like my sugar with coffee and cream Beastie Boyish, thanks.) and when we have raw goat milk, I’ll add that to it, ala the Big Mac/Diet Coke kind of thinking. Fine. But yesterday, Jack found an old box of Spiderman mac n’ cheese in the pantry –
[Sidenote: Does anyone else think the funky noodle shapes taste different than the regular noodles? How is that?! Why wouldn’t it be the same ingredients as regular noodles, but just stamped into a different mold?!]
– and demanded to eat it for lunch. To assuage some of my guilt I only put in half the cheese packet, and added some ingredients from the fridge in hopes of creating some semblance of health. Ok, great.
So. This morning, after making my delicioso 7-step coffee, I randomly grabbed for the half packet of chocolate left over from yesterday – you know where this is going – and instead dumped the rest of the craptastic powdered cheese into my gloriously oversized mug. Luckily, I noticed I was stirring around BRIGHT ORANGE, and some synapse fired enough to recognize that Houston had a problem.
Alas, the day was not ruined, because making that complicated coffee means we always have a lot left over. And the second go-round was much more smooth. But that still should be a lesson for JON to NOT BUY SPIDERMAN MAC’NCHEESE AT THE STORE. BECAUSE IT DOESN’T EVEN TASTE GOOD ANYWAY.
Let’s see. How is everyone? Things are pretty good here. Oscar is pretty much 100% healed. He has a hella scar running up his belly with staples in it, and I’m considering calling him Zip(per) from now on. Or, Oscar the WonderMoron. Or Economy Stimulus Check. Whichever.
Jon is donating bone marrow next week b/c he is a match for someone, and that is so ridiculously cool. I’m not sure what all it entails, but truly, we should all be so lucky there are people out there who would do something so painful and altruistic. You’re a good man, Charlie Brown.
For those of you who know of my long-standing fascination with the West Memphis Three case, I was directed to this video yesterday that sums it up much more quickly than the two documentaries. Go. Watch. Get involved. I cried yesterday thinking not only of the injustice, but the arbitrariness of HBO getting involved in the first place. It scares me to think of all the other backwoods, backassward trials slipping through the cracks.
That Alex Barton thing I (and eleventybillion other people) wrote about has literally exploded, due to the outrage of the autism community. As per usual I’m slightly irritated that autism is the main reason it caught national attention, but it has opened a huge path for discussion of neurodiversity, which is stupidly overdue. Again (againagainagain), I’m not wholly sure I can be in either camp, but enlightenment is still progress, obviously.
I am digging on this song, big time.
I finished the book Middlesex last week. I think it’s a great choice for everyone; it has a lot of underlying themes that can be discussed thoroughly. Plus, I get the impression that the author might be the type who wrote a cool story but didn’t actually mean for it to be that purposely layered. Who knows. It’s the guy who wrote The Virgin Suicides, and it’s a cool book anyway, despite his goofy jacket picture.
Only 23 days until we leave for Colorado. Hu-freaking-zah, I’m deliriously excited. I hate summer in Kansas.
I think that’s it. Love to all.
(Whooee we are only a week into this! Tired of it yet? Because you know my cleverness knows no bounds, right?)
1. Favorite movies
2. Favorite songs
3. All the names starting with J that we could have named Lorelei if we hadn’t luckily realized with Jacoby we were starting a matchy-matchy name theme.
4. People from my past I’d like to catch-up on now.
5. Theories why when you cross over State line from KS to MO the drivers somehow get dumber, if that’s possible.
6. Why the following people must be in on the joke, because there is just no way in hell they could be taken seriously by anyone, ever, they are so ridiculous: Britney Spears, Mariah Carey, Ann Coulter, Andrew W.K., Keanu Reeves, Jennifer Love Hewitt, Michael Moore, Tucker Carlson – just to name a few.
7. Why I love Matt Damon.
8. Words I can never remember how to spell correctly.
9. Words I just can’t remember the definition of.
10. Truths and misconceptions of autism as I know it.
11. Why simple math eludes me completely.
12. Why giving 26 vaccines in the first 6 months of life may not be a good idea.
13. Foods I love.
14. Theories on what’s genetically missing from me that I love to eat and hate the kitchen.
15. Books I love.
16. Best fictional characters of all time in the media.
17. Songs I like to karaoke, or at least watch be sung by drunk people.
18. Ways I wish I would be a better person.
19. Reasons I think I should give myself a break.
20. People I admire, and why.
Happy Valentine’s Day, you little fart. Muahahaha.
(Side note: I think it’s a sign of seriously, seriously warped thinking that I saw it will hit 42° today and was excited. A warm streak! …Wait…)
How is everyone today? We’re well enough. We have T-minus one week until we leave, and not a moment too soon. I’m already in preparation mode, but despite the things I am thisclose to forgetting (like a playdate tomorrow and the fact Jack has a school conference today), I realized this week has been quite the media-filled one for me, so I’ll talk about that instead.
First, we have finally tasted the cocaine that is The Wire (pun obviously intended), and are now planning mid-week showings with Brandon, because waiting even a day after the Netflix gods have supplied the goods is just not an option. Those who think I’m being hyperbolic obviously know nothing about need. Fo’ real, the show is amazing. We’re currently DVRing this season, and will get through the first 5(?) seasons as quickly as humanly possible. Crack, yo.
I also finished Running With Scissors earlier in the week, and I am thankful it wasn’t as disturbing as I had feared. I think that’s more the author’s detached-but-obviously-survived voice that makes reading the account manageable. It’s so beyond comprehension that the unemotional narrative lends the reader -or at least me- the ability to choose to distance themselves also, as if it were simply fiction and not a memoir. At any rate, I’m glad I read it, I think life stories are fascinating. (Oh, and I’m almost done with Cholera, and it’s picking up, so that’s a good sign. And for those of you who are internally parenting me with questions about my Bradley work – I have one book report left. Trust me, you’ll know when that’s done.)
I’ve also been drowning myself in new music lately, which has been both overwhelming and very fulfilling. I dig discovering new things to love and add to my impossibly long and contradictory ‘favorite’ list. I tend to be the kind of person who listens to things for like.. weeks.. at a time, then up and moves on. So recently my brain has been a little frantic trying to decide what it wants to perseverate on, ha. That said, Jon bought an album from The Editors (An End Has A Start) and it’s been sort of relieving to listen to it, because it doesn’t bend any comfort levels for me. It’s not amazing, though it’s not bad at all. I’ve said before it’s like Michael Stipe’s less-angsty brother. Anyhoo, I know I’ve posted this song (Smokers Outside the Hospital Doors) before, but I think it’s the best one on the album. Listen, purchase, thank me later.
And that’s about it. Lo took a dive off the stairs while I was brushing my teeth this morning, and looks just awesome with the knot right in the middle of her inherited, gargantuan forehead. Please don’t call CPS, I don’t feel like being flagged for the no-vax thing. 😉 But obviously the drama is not lost on the child, so I imagine she’ll survive.
I kid. I don’t really care, though I’ve heard those die-hard Dolphin fans are pretty annoying about that record, and I do feel kind of badly that they’ll still have a one-up barb against the Pats. (Kind of like some KU people I know.. Ha.)
We attended a party last night, and although I was super tired, I was pleasantly surprised at how well Jack did. He was still kinda quirky, but not too much, and really, he handled all sorts of new people talking to him like a champ. I’d had a conversation yesterday where the idea of Zoloft (or likewise) was mentioned as something to think about, but last night sort of solidified my instinct that it’s just not what he needs right now. Though I do think I should talk to his teachers and see if they have any ideas on fresh ways to navigate whatever stage we’re in that I’m not understanding. This whole thing is humbling, I tell you. Love ain’t always enough, people.
So I had started reading ‘Love In The Time Of Cholera’ by Marquez, b/c I had loved his other work so much, and at first I really dug it. But I have had simply the hardest time staying focused, which, unless I’m reading.. a book on calculus.. just isn’t like me. I’m sure I’ll finish it, b/c I’m stubborn and I really believe there has to be a major event to tie this exceedingly-long development, but my heart just isn’t in it currently. BUT, I did find in the morass of my dresser-top the other book I purchased at the same time, a memoir called Running With Scissors, and I read a couple chapters last night. Wow. It’s pretty fascinating so far. I purposely haven’t read a whole lot about it, but I seem to think I’ve heard it’s disturbing, so I’m a little wary. But, like I said, it’s really interesting, and I know it’s on the must-read list, so there you go. I’ll let you know what I think when I finish it. (And Cholera, to be fair).
And thus ends my usual disjointed Monday post. I hope yinz (holla Jen-nay! You’re rubbing off on me!) had a good weekend. Tomorrow I’ll post a special youtubetuesday for Casey, so I’ll see you then.
First, pretend this isn’t a quote from Oprah’s latest popular guest. Second, pretend it’s not the newest self-help healing book.
(It makes me cringe that I even have to preface with that.)
That said, this book has leapfrogged to almost the top of my all-time list. And I’m not even finished. I suggest every woman (and possibly man, though I don’t know) read this.. yesterday.
From Gilbert’s Eat, Pray, Love:
“I find the endurance of the Augusteum so reassuring, that this structure has had such an erratic career, yet always adjusted to the particular wildness of the times. To me, the Augusteum is like a person who’s led a totally crazy life – who maybe started out as a housewife, then unexpectedly became a widow, then took up fan-dancing to make money, ended up somehow as the first female dentist in outer space, and then tried her hand at national politics – yet who has managed to hold an intact sense of herself throughout the upheaval.
I look at the Augusteum, and I think that perhaps my life has not actually been so chaotic, after all. It is merely this world that is chaotic, bringing changes to us all that nobody could have anticipated. The Augusteum warns me not to get attached to any obsolete ideas about who I am, what I represent, whom I belong to, or what function I may once have intended to serve. Yesterday I might have been a glorious monument to somebody, true enough – but tomorrow I could be a fireworks depository. Even in the Eternal City, says the silent Augusteum, one must always be prepared for riotous and endless waves of transformation.”
I love my son. Lo and I woke up Jack this morning with the promise of ‘driving on the highway’ as soon as breakfast was over, and his excitement of going in the car pushed him out of bed, even though his sleepiness caused him to walk smack into the doorway. He is such my little carbon copy sometimes. He’d be content to drive for hours listening to music (mine, thankfully) if it were up to him. After merging conversations he once asked if we could return the movie to the store in Colorado. I was up for it.
So we picked up our Christmas cards today, and I’m currently taking a break from addressing them. Personally I’d be ok if it were federally mandated that everyone be forced to give picture cards. I know some people think that’s lame, but I think a random card with a Santa-hatted cartoon mouse, signed with just your name, is not as much fun. But really it doesn’t matter, I just love getting Christmas cards. This is the only time of the year I check the mailbox – Jon teases me about it.
Unfortunately, I seriously underestimated the number of cards we’d need, and now I’m forced to put people into regular-card or picture-card categories. And it’s not a popularity contest, I promise. It’s more likely that if you see me all the time you’ll get a regular card while my friends across the states (world – two in Germany!) will get the picture. And I know part of this is because I just enjoy sending hellos to people – especially if the pictures are so damn cute (which, since they’re from that slide-show, they are). But also it’s because I don’t know the etiquette of whom to include or not. It’s a ripple effect on who you know, and it’s the edges that I seem to err on the side of caution – if that makes any stupid sense. I just don’t want anyone to feel badly that they didn’t get one. It’s not that big of a deal, I know, but it’s something I think about nonetheless. And it’s really not that hard to send them, so I do. Unless I don’t get enough, and then we’re back to the original problem. Sigh.
Moving on.. I finished another book Jon brought home from the library (which despite Jon’s insistence, I don’t enjoy, because then you have to give them back) and it was great. It was Chuck Klosterman’s Killing Yourself to Live . Klosterman is the main reason we subscribed to Spin for the last few years, despite it totally becoming Top-40 suckage from being bought by some horrible devil-like Clear Media or something. ANYWAY, I love Klosterman’s writing style, which is tied with Steve Rushin for how I’d love to sound like. He’s got another book out I haven’t read yet, so I’m jonesing to get it. (Or have H.Pimp get it from the library I guess. Boo.)
And finally, to end an oddly meandering post, a question thrown out there: An ongoing conversation with our friends is what song would you choose to be your intro from the bullpen, if you were a pitcher? Jon said his was something by Rage Against the Machine, which makes sense, because you want your song to represent you as a total baddass, which Rage is (are). I suggested for myself the last minute of Zeppelin’s ‘Stairway to Heaven’ or the intro to Ozzy’s ‘Crazy Train’, but he just gave me a look and shook his head at my apparent un-badassedness. So I’m curious what I should pick and what you would pick. That is, if you’ve ever thought about it.
1. We made potato pancakes a la Brandi’s recipe suggestion, and OH MUH GUH they were awesome. Potatoes and cheese and butter and an egg all smashed together and sauteed? Yes, please!
2. Secondly, all hail to whomever thought to put eggnog in coffee. Anderson Erickson will be loving me for another month, and Charbucks will probably notice a sharp decline in their Pumpkin Spice Latte sales. Take that you overpriced, world-dominating conglomerate.
3. Jon brought home a book by Chuck Palahniuk (Fight Club, Stranger Than Fiction) called Survivor, and it was, surprisingly for me, really good. I’m usually a little wary of Palahniuk – don’t read Lullaby if you’re a parent – but I found the premise intriguing. Cults are fascinating to me, so the thought of reading about that (along with a character that reminded me of a local leader here) is what pulled me. I hesitated when I saw the plug on the cover from Bret Easton Ellis – I don’t usually have the energy to keep up with his characters’ neurotic minutiae and that worried me – but again, I was glad I read it. Afterwards I came up with the brilliant comparison in that Palahniuk is the Hemingway to Ellis’ Faulkner when it comes to writing styles. Huzzah!
4. How can we stand together and protest those obnoxious video clips on CNN and other news sources (not to mention the commercials you have to watch beforehand)? I clicked on a headline about the Madeleine McCann case, and all it was was a clip of some gal talking about a possible witness coming forward (with lots of babble filler). They could have successfully written “possible witness comes forward to police” with a stillshot of Madeleine and voila! I get the info I want in four seconds. Instead I have to watch this babbling woman and in the picture box next to her head two photos of Madeleine that keep flipping back and forth. Back and forth for the whole stupid minute-long clip. The whole thing is annoying, and I’d like someone to give me my two minutes (video + commercial + loading time) back.
5. Finally, this guy is an alien. I’ve never once watched a single thing he’s done and I’ve never heard him in an interview. He may be the nicest, most humble guy ever (though somehow I doubt it) but he is not normal. My friends over at Fug nailed it for me: no one has eyes that are naturally un-dilated all the time. My theory is that he has to keep them small to stop us from photographing the wires on the motherboard in his head. I’m just saying. I don’t trust that weirdly-coiffed kid.