Archive for March, 2009

Happy birthday (yesterday) Juje. Thanks for making me the White Album tape in High School, and letting me record myself singing over your Kate Bush tape when I was four, and documenting some of Grandpa Lee’s last words, and for being the type of chick who digs NASCAR and Shakespeare and sees no contradiction there. And for always letting me cry and unload all my irrational fears while still remaining calm and reminding me to put on the whole armor in search of this or something better. Love ya kid.

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Today I’m getting over a negativity hangover so, like all respectable hangovers, it’s left me feeling slightly unsteady and a little parched. Also not so much in the talking mood. So here’s some light reading/listening about things I totally agree with, find hilarious and/or am awed by (thank you Somber). How many men can talk about the Aristotelian definition of tragedy in relation to sheep neutering and make it sound simultaneously hilarious, sexy and absolutely plausible? Not many. And that’s why Mike Rowe is a bad ass.

I hope you meet yourself this weekend.

UPDATE: Holy Cow! I didn’t even know this was being made! Aw yeah!!!!!!!

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Wanna lick? Psych.

I keep forgetting how competitive people are until I’m reminded of it by random pokes and prods that amount to very nearly the Eddie Murphy ice cream taunt:

“I got some ice cream … and you don’t got none … cause you’re on welfare and your daddy’s an alcoholic.”

Look people, we do it when it’s right for us. I’m super psyched you’ve got things going on that make you feel good — isn’t the feeling good enough? Do you really need to compare your thing to someone else’s for your thing to have value? Or, maybe the intrinsic value of what you brag about is fairly low so it’s an effort to present it as more up-market. Either way, you demean and devalue your accomplishment by needing validation that it’s better than — I don’t know, whatever thing it needs to be better than this week. I really wouldn’t care except when you drag me into your drama I find myself going down that same compare/contrast road and it just depresses me and I need to focus man. I got stuff I’m trying to do over here. And I try really hard not to live my life like a real housewife of New York City. Vapid is not sexy.

Just clearing the air. Thanks for your patience. I’ll be back with brilliant insight on something relevant at a later date.

Also, what do we think of the Kindle? My verdict is still out. But I’m intrigued…

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Reminders of why

I have less of a problem with the Special Olympics gaffe than I do with the fact that British PM Gordon Brown is going blind so giving him DVDs may have been inappropriate in more ways than the “you’re like a school on Saturday — no class” kind of way. Thanks for making me aware of that one Pops. My niece was in a fashion show last night at the Mall of Ga. and I swear that kid is a stunner. She told me there’s a boy in her class that keeps calling her names which of course means he likes her, which I told her and she just smiled and said “I know.” Then her Dad of course is all “You don’t need to be thinking about boys,” a line I heard more than once growing up and I hope she doesn’t internalize and get all bookish and shy like I did. I think maybe there’s a better balance there. (I love you Dan…)

Anyway, my 15-year-old nephew was recently allowed his own cell phone and I have been receiving texts from him since last night. We’ve talked about his ex-girlfriend and who he’s going to ask to the next school dance. And I’ve had the opportunity to tell him I love him several times and I’m sorta bursting with that awesomeness.

Today — well, today is a good day. Kids’ll do that.

Have a peaceful weekend. Should be a pretty one. Here’s some Spring music to go with the weather.

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Happy St. Pat’s day all. I’ll be at Cutter’s Pub during Happy Hour with my book and an Irish coffee attempting to stave off an almost all-consuming compulsion to sell my house and use the money to quit my job and get gone. Come see me and tell me why that’s the dumbest thing you’ve ever heard because things will change. Change is constant, right? Right? (cricket sound)

So, in honor of one side of my family, here are a few of my favorite Irish things: an awesome clip from one of the greatest Irish — scratch that — greatest movies of all time; a great Irish curse I like; and the song “Rise,” which, while not overtly Irish, has always put me in the Emerald Isle mindset because of the refrain that references that old Irish blessing and the constant repetition of the expression “Anger is an energy,” which I think the Irish would appreciate. There are of course other, much more current and relevant bands that I could reference. But then you’d miss out on a weird 80s gem that the skate rats in my neighborhood thought made them really edgy and cool. And that makes me smile. And I need that today, okay?

Compact Disc by Public Image Ltd.

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So I saw this program on the History Channel the other day (I continue to give the History Channel a chance despite their need to be alarmist and sensational in very many of their programs) about the sack of Rome by Alaric and the Visigoths and how the result of the end of the Roman Empire was this vast European slide into the Dark Ages. And how strange it must have been for the peasants during this period — who were literally scavenging building materials from the vast and once remarkable Roman ruins — to realize that the generations preceding them lived in a manner wealthier, healthier, more prosperous and arguably more civilized. And then I saw this. And I’m trying not to draw parallels because what good would that do really…?

Also, a shout out to my team. We did good. This is the Internet equivalent of above the fold. See how I’m pushing the lexicon so one day, when a child wonders where that expression comes from, some wise old adult will say, “Well honey child, back when newspapers ruled…”

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