But seriously, Cheerios have overrun our home. Help!
(*note: I just googled "cheerios" and this baby picture popped up. No idea who she is. I'm well aware of the creep-o factor here. But it just worked for the blog, so stick it.)
Thursday, May 28, 2009
the continuing saga of a life with babies
My sister, on Cheerios: "I sprinkle that shit like birdseed. On the carpet, the couch cushions, the damn toilet seat. It's like come and get it, feeding time!"
But seriously, Cheerios have overrun our home. Help!
(*note: I just googled "cheerios" and this baby picture popped up. No idea who she is. I'm well aware of the creep-o factor here. But it just worked for the blog, so stick it.)
But seriously, Cheerios have overrun our home. Help!
(*note: I just googled "cheerios" and this baby picture popped up. No idea who she is. I'm well aware of the creep-o factor here. But it just worked for the blog, so stick it.)
Wednesday, May 27, 2009
It's gonna be a bright, bright sunshiny day
Neko fucking Case is going to be at Thursday at the Square on July 23rd!!!! Be very, very excited!!!
and the rest of the line-up:
May 28: Gomez with Steel Train and Alberta Cross
June 4: An Evening With the Disco Biscuits
June 11: Robert Randolph & the Family Band with the Dana Fuchs Band
June 18: Better Than Ezra with Tyrone Wells
June 25: Los Loboswith Hill Country Revue
July 2: Zappa Plays Zappa
July 9: Los Lonely Boys
July 16: George Clinton & Parliament/Funkadelic
July 23: Neko Case
July 30: The Avett Brothers with Cornmeal
and the rest of the line-up:
May 28: Gomez with Steel Train and Alberta Cross
June 4: An Evening With the Disco Biscuits
June 11: Robert Randolph & the Family Band with the Dana Fuchs Band
June 18: Better Than Ezra with Tyrone Wells
June 25: Los Loboswith Hill Country Revue
July 2: Zappa Plays Zappa
July 9: Los Lonely Boys
July 16: George Clinton & Parliament/Funkadelic
July 23: Neko Case
July 30: The Avett Brothers with Cornmeal
Friday, May 15, 2009
penny for your thoughts
“Liz, tell me something.”
“What do you want me to tell you?”
“I don’t know. It doesn’t matter. Tell me anything. Tell me something mind-blowing if you can.”
A few nights ago, I received the preceding request from a fellow co-worker. It’s a simple enough question. I could have said anything. I’ve never seen Karate Kid. I’m staunchly against texting. I think moral relativity is killing our nation.
“Um. Well. Gee. I don’t know. Why don’t you tell me something instead?”Ah, the ever evasive route of the wimpy copout. But she wasn’t letting me off the hook that easily, so she countered: “Ok, I’ll make it easier. Just tell me something you believe in.”
“Like religious beliefs?”
“Doesn’t have to be. Whatever. Just something you believe in.”
“Well,” I faltered. “I believe in God, I guess. Um.”Then it was silent for a while as I fumbled for something – anything – that would not lead this person to believe I was completely dead upstairs. It’s hard, of course, to be quick on your toes when you’re put on the spot like that. Still, coming up with one statement, be it a slice of petty trivia or some life-altering philosophy, should not be that overwhelming of a challenge. Right?
I could not think of one damn thing. So I said so. At first, this didn’t bother me. Did this girl actually expect me to pull some useless information out of my ass just because she was bored? And why couldn’t she think of something? I mean, it’s not like she was totally serious about the question anyways. I was under no obligation to perform.
But then, as I had nothing else to do really, I continued to grope around in my mind. The more I did this, the more unsettled I became. Why couldn’t I think of one interesting thing to say? Was it because I’m so uninteresting myself? Has my brain atrophied to the point where it no longer processes fascinating information the way it used to? When you’re in school (for the most part) your mind exists in a continual whirlwind of new concepts, new opinions. Your ideas are forever being modified, your beliefs are challenged, sharpened, or tossed by the wayside. Have I lost that?
Don’t I even think anymore?
That, my friends, is a frightening question. One that, once raised, calls into question the entire future of your intellect and creativity.
My co-worker’s request unfulfilled, I busied myself in work, letting my anxiety bury itself in the tedium of my duties.
Then I helped some customers who were, for lack of a better phrase, dumber than the crap that comes out of my ugly Shih Tzu’s ass. And I felt a little better about myself.
And then I came home and had a beer and finished Amy Tan’s The Joy Luck Club (an exquisite, gorgeous novel), and I felt a lot better about myself. And I asked myself all sorts of questions about motherhood and relationships and memory and storytelling and cultural identity.
And guess what? My brain still worked.
And guess what else? Just because I couldn’t come up with something to say tonight, well, that doesn’t mean I don’t have a store of things to tell the world.
All in due time. All in my own way.
And that is more than ok.
“What do you want me to tell you?”
“I don’t know. It doesn’t matter. Tell me anything. Tell me something mind-blowing if you can.”
A few nights ago, I received the preceding request from a fellow co-worker. It’s a simple enough question. I could have said anything. I’ve never seen Karate Kid. I’m staunchly against texting. I think moral relativity is killing our nation.
“Um. Well. Gee. I don’t know. Why don’t you tell me something instead?”Ah, the ever evasive route of the wimpy copout. But she wasn’t letting me off the hook that easily, so she countered: “Ok, I’ll make it easier. Just tell me something you believe in.”
“Like religious beliefs?”
“Doesn’t have to be. Whatever. Just something you believe in.”
“Well,” I faltered. “I believe in God, I guess. Um.”Then it was silent for a while as I fumbled for something – anything – that would not lead this person to believe I was completely dead upstairs. It’s hard, of course, to be quick on your toes when you’re put on the spot like that. Still, coming up with one statement, be it a slice of petty trivia or some life-altering philosophy, should not be that overwhelming of a challenge. Right?
I could not think of one damn thing. So I said so. At first, this didn’t bother me. Did this girl actually expect me to pull some useless information out of my ass just because she was bored? And why couldn’t she think of something? I mean, it’s not like she was totally serious about the question anyways. I was under no obligation to perform.
But then, as I had nothing else to do really, I continued to grope around in my mind. The more I did this, the more unsettled I became. Why couldn’t I think of one interesting thing to say? Was it because I’m so uninteresting myself? Has my brain atrophied to the point where it no longer processes fascinating information the way it used to? When you’re in school (for the most part) your mind exists in a continual whirlwind of new concepts, new opinions. Your ideas are forever being modified, your beliefs are challenged, sharpened, or tossed by the wayside. Have I lost that?
Don’t I even think anymore?
That, my friends, is a frightening question. One that, once raised, calls into question the entire future of your intellect and creativity.
My co-worker’s request unfulfilled, I busied myself in work, letting my anxiety bury itself in the tedium of my duties.
Then I helped some customers who were, for lack of a better phrase, dumber than the crap that comes out of my ugly Shih Tzu’s ass. And I felt a little better about myself.
And then I came home and had a beer and finished Amy Tan’s The Joy Luck Club (an exquisite, gorgeous novel), and I felt a lot better about myself. And I asked myself all sorts of questions about motherhood and relationships and memory and storytelling and cultural identity.
And guess what? My brain still worked.
And guess what else? Just because I couldn’t come up with something to say tonight, well, that doesn’t mean I don’t have a store of things to tell the world.
All in due time. All in my own way.
And that is more than ok.
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