Would it be overly-sentimental of me to state that all of the secrets to life are revealed in the lyrics of this cheesy pop song by Stephen Duffy?
Icing on the Cake
Baby let me make you a statue
To stand outside the council house
To stand as a reminder
Of what you are and what you want to be
I want to live with you
Want to sleep with you
In a house in a peaceful world
They want to take you
They want to break you
Don't let them make you unhappy
You are the icing on the cake
The party on the street
The love we cannot fake
The truth you cannot cheat
You were left on the doorstep
Of the social security
You were hoping for a future as someone
Not just a leisure refugee
I'd always saw you as a fighter and a winner
Not content to only write your name
Their right way is the wrong way
For what you are and what you were born to be
Born to be young and free
To be young and wise
Not to listen to all their lies
Don't let them take you
Don't let them break you
Don't let them make you unhappy
Here we come waltzing home
By the moon so bright
By the sea by the harbour wall
They want to take you
They want to break you
Shape you and make you unhappy
Today, while talking to Monk about random facts, I discovered that he knows that the sun is the closest star and that the moon does not shine, but reflects light from the sun. I discovered he can add and subtract numbers from 1-10, and that he knows that 9 dimes make 90 cents.
I also learned that he has no idea what the word "weekend" means. I think this is the best thing of all.
:: drublood 7:24 PM [+] ::
The fact that urSkek now has a blog (and that I no longer have to live with the mystery of what she will name the new baby) had me thinking about cool names while I was walking today. Here are some of my favorites
Timely Rain, Noble Song, Sagacious Star (urSkek's kids)
Monk Andrew, Cole Sequoia Lark (Hey! I wouldn't have named them that if I didn't like the names!)
Criterion Sojourner (an old friend of mine)
Daven Nomad (another old friend)
Imagine (I don't know his middle name, but I find myself thinking of this name a lot)
Thelonious Spike (born on the same day, three years after, Monk was born)
(and here's where I draw a blank, even though I thought of thousands of them while I was walking. I'll probably come back to this...)
:: drublood 9:20 AM [+] ::
There are precious few things in the world that are cuter than walking into a bedroom where an 18-month old child is sitting cross-legged on the floor "reading" brown bear, brown bear, what do you see.
In case anyone thinks I reserve ALL my loathing for public school teachers, I offer this site, which was presented as a "good learning tool" on one of my homeschool lists. Yeah. Great. Let's get them brainwashed just as fast as possible.
I remember a few years ago, when I was new to the homeschooling lists that I'm on, I got into a HUGE fight about whether or not it was appropriate to use material created by the Dairy and Meat Associations to teach children about nutrition. Um. HELLO people.
:: drublood 1:49 AM [+] ::
:: Wednesday, May 08, 2002 ::
Topics I WANT to blog about when I'm all moved:
This whole electronic media and our children thing
Car Free (or Car Reduced)
The Freaking Garden (or, why the hell is there such a thing as bermuda grass?)
OK, I did write a review of that Rites of Spring record...just need to type it in
Recipes for the two dishes I made simultaneously yesterday (because I'm such a multi-tasker and stuff): Sun-dried tomato pasta salad, and pico de gallo.
Have I mentioned how much I utterly love, adore, and absolutely worship pea and kd? (insert sounds of loud, juicy ass-kissing) (OK, maybe juicy was a bit too graphic...)
:: drublood 5:19 PM [+] ::
I got a call tonight from my friend Kera, who I haven't had the opportunity to talk to in...gosh...has it been years? A year? She's getting a book together & I'm really looking forward to seeing it. She's currently playing in this band and I'm currently wondering where my free copy of that EP is, MIZ Schaley. You know you are not allowed to release anything creative without hooking me up. To the post office with you, my dear! I promise I will review it and all of my adoring fans will flock to record stores all over to buy it.
I also am feeling all famous and stuff because Allyson (I hope I'm not revealing a secret identity by doing that...)interviewed me for the 1983 issue of diecastgarden. Why me? Oh, I slept my way to the top. Don't tell anyone, OK? I want people to think I'm legit.
:: drublood 12:42 AM [+] ::
and this story about Kenneth's wife (who I have always envied).
:: drublood 12:13 AM [+] ::
:: Monday, May 06, 2002 ::
I'm still really distraught about the 5-year old kid playing Grand Theft Auto 3. I have left comments at the site, and the woman who is in the proximity of this kid (it's actually her brother's girlfriend's kid) is saying that she doesn't necessarily agree that it's a good thing for him to be playing, but she can't do anything about it. Can she? Who will?
Sincerely, I'm not big on criticizing parents because it's a fuck of a difficult job...but certainly there's something that can be done to educate the mom on why it's a really bad idea to allow a 5-year access to this type of "entertainment." I'm trying to figure out what I can say to help this woman figure out what to say to the mom. Maybe "Hey...I read somewhere that in the first 7 years of a child's life, the brain is being hard-wired...and it's important to pay attention to the input there because it can cause a lot of problems later in life..." Is there a brochure I can e-mail her? Something? Anything?
Is there someone out there who can give me a reason why it's no big deal for a small child to be exposed to this? I mean, watching a video game person beat a prostitute with a bat to get his money back? Can someone tell me that I shouldn't feel sickshaky depressed about this? Because I respect that the woman who wrote about it feels like there's nothing that she can do...she says she doesn't "really" have "proximity" because she's only been around this kid for a few days...but if not her...who?
Because...reallyhonestlytruly I think it's abuse. I do. I'm not sure that it's intentional. But it's freaking me out like I'm watching a film of someone being beaten and I CAN'T DO ANYTHING ABOUT IT. I'm trying not to think about it...but that only makes me think about it more. And everything else I've written since that entry seems trite and dismissive of this very real issue.
I need to go play with my children. I don't know what else to say. I'm trying not to freak out about this any more than I already have.
It's worse than a fucking suicide blog...because the kid doesn't even know he's being harmed.
:: drublood 2:51 PM [+] ::
It's been a good night, and I think I'm going to go to bed early again. We all went out for dinner at Chango's - cheap mexican food. Then we had ice cream at amy's and got some pictures taken in the photo booth (I'll probably post them later, when I get around to scanning the strip.) It was family night, so we splurged. I love how Steven has decided that we have to hang out together as a family at least once a week. It's been a really nice thing. Tonight I realized that Monk doesn't even know how a table is set...I mean, usually the children are given food with a fork sticking out of the plate or whatever and that's it. Never anything formal. We very very rarely (as in, practically NEVER) have a sit-down meal with the whole family...so it's nice to set time aside for that once a week, I guess.
Earlier, I got some time to myself and, sigh, went to work to finish up a couple of things that I didn't finish on Saturday. I still have tons of crap to do, but at least I got the pressing issues out of the way. And I removed my PMS-y self from the house before I did any permanent damage to anyone, which was A Good Thing. But in my scatter-brained haze, I forgot to reset the resolution on the computer I was using (the teacher who uses the classroom during the day flips out about this, because she doesn't know how to do it herself) and I left my bike there...um...duh, Lainie! The bike was pretty much the reason I drove there in the first place.
When I finally do retrieve the bike (if it's still there tomorrow!) I'm going to have to learn how to change the inner tube on the back tire. I've never done it before and Steven's making it sound like it's a bitch and a half. Anyone have any pointers?
Woo hoo! Coleen just im'd me to tell me that she's going to try to put together a mAmazon in New Orleans in November. I am so completely utterly there. Yes! Yes! Yes! Now I can stop feeling all sorry for myself about not being able to travel this month. AND, since it's New Orleans...I'll bet Mr. Steve will come with, too...at least as far as MS.
Now I can dream happy dreams of travel bliss. Yay! Thanks, Coleen!
:: drublood 11:29 PM [+] ::
I've been thinking about something I've been wanting to do for a long time. I want to create a digital archive of the zines I have in my collection. There are many that are no longer available in any format and they really should be somehow preserved and available for public viewing. My idea has always been to create some sort of online database from which users can request particular titles or articles, and those articles would then be available for download.
Does this sound of interest to anyone? I literally have a closet FULL of zines that I would love love love to catalog, but I don't want to undertake this alone. Plus I would need extreme amounts of guidance on the process of creating an online archive. So, anyone with this kind of experience...I would love to hear from you.
:: drublood 4:00 PM [+] ::
There's this weird thing about Upski Wimsatt. I used to have a crush on him when I was working at Kinko's at the University of Chicago. He used to come in to copy things and I suppose it was just that I thought he was cute or something. I never even had a conversation with him, although I did trade zines with him at some point...
At any rate, he keeps re-appearing my life (not physically...). Like when I decided to homeschool Monk, his name kept popping up in all of my internet searches on unschooling. And then Steven, for some reason, got the Self-Education Foundation newsletter...which I guess Upski is associated with...And now I find this site because of the burnbabyburn cd exchange.
Weird. Very very weird.
[amended to add: I just realized that I'm not sure if I had a crush on upski or if I was encouraged by my co-workers to have a crush on him. I remember a woman I worked with named LeShawn, who really seemed to want to fix us up for some reason. Perhaps because we were the only punk-ish looking people that she knew? I don't know. And now, 12+ years later, I can't remember if I noticed him first or if she did. Ha!]
:: drublood 3:41 PM [+] ::
7:30ish AM Steven enters the bedroom, impossibly awake, and begins to tickle, tease, and play with the children. I pretend I'm asleep, listen to the laughter, fall completely in love with my husband again for like the 4th time this week (what can I say...I'm easy!) There is something incredibly appealing about a man playing with his children. I don't know what it is. Somehow, though, this sort of unabashed playing doesn't normally happen when I'm awake (probably because when I'm awake and Steven's home, the children are normally clamoring around me...or I'm gone) so I revel in it when I can.
8ish AM Of course, the minute I wake up, everyone starts tickling me. Steven attacks me with the "big toe of death" (he has these enormous big toes that can grip skin like a freaking lobster) Monk sits on my legs and cole attacks my face with his mouth. I really really hate being tickled, but it's still sort of a nice way to start the day - everyone rolling around on the bed. Laughing. Cole says "Papa!" and crawls over to steven, resting his head in the crook of Steven's arm. Steven enfolds him in a hug and I melt for both of them.
8:30 AM I'm outside with the kids trying to rescue the garden from the encroaching grass (garden update to come...er...someday) and doing some watering. The cats have been using the path as a litter box, so I'm trying to show monk how to scoop the poops up and fling them elsewhere in the overgrown yard. He can't seem to figure out the difference between cat scat and dirt clod. cole, however, walks right up and grabs a poop. *sigh* I pick him up, get him to drop the poop, and put him down somewhere else in the yard.
9:00 AM We go back into the house a little muddier, a little sweatier, a little tireder. Steven starts making us some smoothies. We actually had smoothies for dinner last night, because it's too freaking hot to turn the stove on. I wonder if we can become smoothietarians? Today's flavor? Strawberry&banana with peanut butter. Yum.
9:30 AM About that damn tire. I try to inflate it. The pump is broken. Steven brings out his portable pump...that doesn't work either.
10:00 am I head out to Academy to pick up a bicycle pump. I grab a few pairs of ultra cheap slip-on water shoes (5 bux a pair) because my sandals have fallen apart, Monk has outgrown his, and cole has never had a pair.
10:30 AM The shoes don't fit either of the kids, but the pump works. I pump up the tires, pack my lunch, change my clothes, pack a change of clothes, my keys, my work phone, and a little bottle of lavender oil (so's I can smell all purdy when I get to work) in my backpack.
10:45 AM Steven has once again done his amazing disappearing act. He does this frequently right before I have to leave. He'll be there, then he'll say "be right back" and he'll disappear. GrrrrRRrrrrRRRRrr.
11:00 AM Steven's back. I resist the urge to bitch about the disappearing act (although I do call him "the great stevezinie" simply because I canNOT resist being a smart ass) I don my helmet and my backpack, hop on my bike and go.
11:20 AM I'm almost to work and *POP* my tire explodes. LOUD. Like a gun going off. Lovely.
11:30 AM I get into my building and immediately check my e-mail because I think I suffer from e-mail OCD or something. I'm pleased, though, because Pea has sent a link so i can see what she's done with the design she's working on for me. Have I mentioned that I'm building several shrines to Pea in my home? I love her. LOVE her. LOVE HER!
noon My favorite client comes in, and so does my management assistant. I dig into my tofu sandwich...share some with my favorite client (management assistant is not a tofu eater)...start typing this...start doing a little work (Today's work agenda includes (for anyone who might be interested in what I actually do around here) checking applications for inaccuracies, e-mailing the course schedule to service organizations, calling clients who have not attended classes, closing out classes that have not been closed out, moving data around on the database, and helping drop in clients with whatever questions they have. Since it's Saturday, there's no formal instruction going on...this is where I catch up on all of the paperwork type stuff.)
2:00 PM Wow! I can't believe she waited this long to start bugging me. My counterpart at the other site calls to give me random things to do because, you know, I don't have enough work to do and she, you know, is like...I dunno...my BOSS or something. NOT! It is so irritating working with control freaks. It's even worse working with control freaks who feel like they are competing with me for my job. If you want something done, baby...do it yr damn self.
4:00 PM "Hi, can I add one more thing to your to-do list?" FUCK YOU!! fuckyoufuckyoufuckyoufuckyou. ARGH! Send me a freaking e-mail with a list of stuff you want me to do, and give me a deadline, and stop freaking calling me. You are not my boss!
4:45 PM I suddenly come to the realization that there is not enough time to finish all of the things I need to finish. I decide that I will have to come back tomorrow during "mommy time" to get stuff done.
5:00 PM I start cleaning up, getting ready to leave. Look at one last blog, file one last app, send one more e-mail.
5:15 PM I begin my journey home on foot. I decide it will probably take less time to walk the 2 or so miles home than take the bus (because the buses here suck, particularly on Saturdays.) Unfortunately, most of my walk is along the busy streets and highways, so it's not very scenic. For most of the walk, I smell exhaust and see debris, dead birds, cars cars cars...I pass exactly 2 other pedestrians, even though it's actually a pretty nice day (relatively speaking) thousands and thousands of cars. I get dive bombed by a territorial grackle when I inadvertently trespass on his mating ground. I run into my favorite client at the bus stop that's about halfway between work and my house and say "boo!" and he looks at me like he doesn't recognize me for a minute and then cracks a huge smile. I say "Don't recognize me without my face in front of a computer, huh?" He laughs. I say goodbye and he waves me off. While I'm walking, I'm thinking about people I love and...well...I"m thinking about the new blog. I decide that I'm going to change the name to Full Bleed when I move over to surreally...and I try to think about what I can do with the name bAnal Probe, which seems to me to be more of a group kind of name than the name of a personal zine/blog/whathaveyou. I'm also thinking about my body & how amazing it is. Lately I've been really really into my body. I've been strutting around the house in my spandex bodysuit like a little potato-shaped cat woman. I feel powerful because I can literally walk for hours and hours and not feel tired. I can do it with or without a 30 pound weight strapped to my back. I might not have what the rest of the world considers a nice body, but, DAMNIT, I kick ass.
6:00 PM I arrive home and the kids are running around outside, having fun. I send Steven away and start plucking up the grass that's growing in the garden, pinch some suckers on the tomatoes, stick the tomato cages in the ground, revel in things growing on my little homestead plot, play catch with cole, pet the dog, talk to monk, sit on the back porch and listen to the music from the cinco de mayo celebration that's taking place across the street. I consider going over there, but I'm too lazy to get cole dressed.
7:00 PM I bring cole inside to nurse him. I sing him some lullabyes, thinking he's tired. He sighs, coos, and relaxes, but does not sleep. Steven comes home and plays with Monk. Cole gets a bath. Again, I try to nurse him to sleep, but he's not sleepy. Steven leaves again. Me and Monk and Cole hang out on the bed and play for a little while. I read Five Little Monkeys Jumping on the Bed 2 or 3 times. Monk starts jumping around on the bed. I get up before he starts really getting hyper.
8:00 PM I start filling the tub for Monk's bath. I put on some music and dance around with Cole for a little while & put a bowl of sunflower seeds out for him to munch on. He dances around me as I type this, I pick him up and tickle him. Nurse him a little. watch him play. Listen to Monk in the bathtub
8:15 PM Monk's ready to have his hair washed, which is his least favorite thing in the world. We manage to get through the ordeal without tears, which is a rare occurance. I tell him he can watch a video tonight and he says "YAY!"
8:30 PM Monk is out of the tub and I go lay down with cole again, trying to nurse him to sleep. More lullabies, more stroking, nursing, kissing, hugging, kicking, scrambling, rolling...jumping...off of the bed and running into the other room. Crap.
9:00 PM I set up the VCR, pop some corn and pop in Time Fighters in the Land of Fantasy...the world's longest video. There's a small argument that crops up over the issue of pajamas, but it's quickly resolved. I kick back and relax and do a little surfing.
9:30 PM Coley's ripe for bedtime, so I bring him into the bedroom and rock him/nurse him/sing him to sleep. It takes all of 15 minutes for him to be completely out.
9:45 PM More surfing while Monk watches Time Fighters. I really should be doing something else, though...
10:00 PM I sneak into the back room with the back issue of Punk Planet that I've been reading.
10:30 PM Read read read
11:00 PM Monk has fallen asleep. I am sorting through old tapes in the back office.
11:15 PM I do a little surfing. Find something on a blog that totally completely rips my heart in half. I comment on it there...comment on it here (SEE BELOW)...try to go back to reading the interview with Jaime Hernandez I was reading, but instead...I opt to go lay down with my children and hug them close to me. Good night.
:: drublood 8:14 AM [+] ::