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Tuesday, September 30, 2014

is your figure less than greek

Things are going badly in the basement. I can't get any heating vent technician-type people to return my calls, and it's almost like they want me to go away. I will not. It's such a silly little thing to replace the air ducts and I know they could do it because that's what they do anytime they put a new furnace in. They're just being obstinate and lazy. Since I was being held hostage by the heating people and the missing Ikea shelf hardware I painted the dresser the boys used to stack their clothes on and near. Now it is mustard-yellow with gray handles. I haven't decided what I'll do with it yet, but it's too nice a dresser to give away--all the drawers are dovetailed and it is rock solid. One of the ladies from ward choir came in and saw it and exclaimed, "Oh, I LOVE your CHEST!" Old ladies are great.

 Have you ever read Frankenstein?  I read a very abridged graphic novelization of it when I was a child.  It was pretty cool I guess.  I am going to read the real thing now, and see how I like it.  Seems like the right thing to do at this time of year.  We've broken open the Halloween playlists on Spotify and Pandora, and it's been rainy and gray the past few days and I am digging it.  I was so mad about how long it was taking to get to boot season--it was in the high 80s last week!  Barf, not what I want from fall.

In the end, none of the children were willing to sing with John and me at the recital.  But they did sing for my parents, which is a step forward.  Even Emmett and Ike, who normally are huge stinkers about it.  They're all such show-offy attention hogs, I don't understand why they won't add singing to their list of things they're willing to do in public.

Tuesday, September 23, 2014

it's a long way to tipperary

It started out as just buying shelves for the boys to put their clothes on, since they are apparently incapable of PULLING OUT A DRAWER and PLACING THEIR CLOTHES INSIDE. That is a very difficult task. I went to Ikea and wandered through the showroom and then spent at least half an hour propelling myself around on one of those flat cart things while I waited for John to call me back and give me his opinion of Ivar vs. Gorm (we went with Ivar). And I figured, as long as I'm turning that room upside down, why not finally patch the walls and paint it at the same time? And why not paint the dresser the boys refuse to use and turn it into a visually striking, weird piece of functional storage furniture? And what about that window molding that we never put on? Let's do that too. And now I'm thinking I'll call a HVAC guy and see if there's anything that can be done about the stupid heating pipes all over the ceiling. One thing always leads to another in an old house. Stupid house. Last week I made grape juice and realized what everyone else has realized before me, namely that grape juice is only worth it if you get your grapes for free. I dried some nectarines, which are gone now. I made eighteen pints of salsa. I made some sad sourdough bread from my start that hasn't quite recovered from being neglected in storage this summer. I spent so much money on produce and wore myself ragged pretending to be provident. But it all tastes good and I guess we will be thankful this winter. I have a guitar recital on Saturday, and my family is going to sing with me (for "family" read "John and Willa, because everyone else is a jerkface"). I am excited, because I love singing with my family. Last Friday we played along to that Killers song I talked about in my last post, Grant on bass, me on guitar, Emmett on drums (snare and pillow), and it was AWESOME. My family band is coming true!

Thursday, September 18, 2014

we used to laugh now we only fight

I don't know if it's because so much time has elapsed since the last time I tried them, or because I was eating them at ten o'clock at night, or because my palate is slowly maturing, but these Chocolate Lucky Charms I just ate were disgusting.  That sucks.  They had such an ethereal glow about them in my memory, and now they're just another Twinkie.  Serves me right for eating them I guess.

Here is the song I'm listening to this week:

Dianna Agron's lip-syncing is fully the worst; most of the time she looks like she's just mouthing the words instead of actually saying them, and that peeves me.  I have listened to this song probably about a hundred times since yesterday, much like any given toddler with patient and indulgent parents.  I think it creeps my family out.  SHUT UP FAMILY YOU DON'T UNDERSTAND WHAT IT'S LIKE BETWEEN ME AND MY MUSE.

Monday, September 15, 2014

and their empire crumbled 'til all that was left were the stones the workmen found

Brothers and sisters, I am of the opinion that "rinse and repeat" instructions are part of a plot to sell more shampoo, making more profits for Big Soap, sending more chemicals into our water, turning more and more of our fish into hermaphrodites.  Sad.  Since I am growing my hair out I've stopped washing my hair so often--also Ken Jennings said we wash our hair too much in his very fun and useful book--and I can go three days between washes, as in wash Monday, not Tuesday, not Wednesday, wash Thursday.  And I used to feel like I had to rinse and repeat, but then one day I decided to try just one wash, and my hair behaved just fine.  Maybe even better.  So I have thrown off the shackles of rinse and repeat, and I HAVE NEVER FELT SO FREE! 

So last week in Utah a young black man was shot multiple times in the back by the police, and maybe he was being weird and dangerous with his not-real samurai sword, but maybe he wasn't.  Who knows?  The police say he lunged at them with the sword, and witnesses say he was running away, so once again we have incompatible stories and it sure is weird how many people are getting shot in the back while they're supposedly attacking.

Hazel got hurt last week--we're not sure what happened, but her right front knee is swollen and she is limping terribly.  I think it was probably the horrid bucks, crashing around like idiots as they do.  But they have gone to auction and good riddance.  They made us a sweet $349 smackers too, so good job us for raising them and good job them for being good-looking I guess. 

Tuesday, September 9, 2014

and he told us of his life in the land of submarines

A couple of Mormon things to beef/exult about right quick: 

Beef:  I don't know if it's churchwide or just in my building because of router problems or something, but the church's website is ALWAYS down on Sunday, so when I want to access the online curriculum for my lessons it's all DOESNOTCOMPUTE and it makes me incredibly frustrated.  Come on, guys.  Don't act like you're going to embrace the technology revolution and then not support it.  It makes you look incompetent.  

Exult:  There was an announcement yesterday that some of the talks in the upcoming General Conference may be not in English, but in the speaker's native language.  This is exciting to me.  I will miss the accents, because English always sounds so much cooler and smarter to me when spoken by non-native speakers, but I think it will be good for people to be able to give their talk in the language they're more comfortable in, and good for the Anglos to have our ideas of English's supremacy challenged for a minute. 

Because I listen to the news, not because I am interested in football, the sport of violent, drooling meatheads, I heard about the Baltimore Ravens terminating Ray Rice's contract, which is some of what he deserves, but I hope there are people around to protect his wife just in case he goes home and takes it out on her, which seems very likely.  Gross. 

Saw some lovely comments on a news article today, telling some girls who'd been sexually abused by their father for eight years that they needed to forgive and forget.  Awesome.  Love to see the compassion for predators that is so uncommon in our society.  Everyone is gross. 

You know, I started out this morning in a pretty good mood, but now I'm mad. 

John and I finally got around to watching Scott Pilgrim vs. the World this weekend, and it was a fun, quirky show, but I was not seeing what was so awesome about the Ramona person.  She was like the alt-Bella Swan, a paste wax person who somehow captivated the attention of everyone around her, despite colorful hair being her only sign of being edgy or interesting.  Almost every other character, main and supporting, was much more fleshed out,  and I wonder if it's because they want us to realize that Scott is projecting his fantasies onto a girl without knowing anything about her.  Maybe they want her to be a blank slate.  Hard to say. 

I started reading Rebecca  to Emmett and Grant last night.  I hope they will be patient. 

Wednesday, September 3, 2014

I'm bleedin' out, I'm bleedin' out for you

Some days I feel like the world is too broken to ever be fixed.  Shall we assemble a brain trust of good folks like you and me to fix some problems?  Let's get started: 
1.  Education reform and its effect on socioeconomic inequality.  For preliminary reading, consult this heartbreaking post over at BCC and/or "The Teacher Wars" by Dana Goldstein
2.  Ebola
3.  ISIS
4.  Predation and exploitation of children

Education reform?  Bleh, what a mess.  I don't have any answers here, other than I try to be involved in my kids' education, because involved parents make for better schools.  Beyond that problem that's easily affected by the fact that I'm in a good district and have the privilege of being a stay-at-home mom who has time to be in the schools, I'm lost. 

Ebola, well, for one thing you're going to need worldwide access to clean water.  And seeing as how in Utah we're still pooping in our pristine drinking water, I suspect that not everyone understands that water is a finite resource many don't have access to.  

I think that (3) and (4) could both be solved by some kind of death ray controlled by a telepathic drone, which deploys in the moment the perpetrator begins his/her act of violence--I'm not advocating for Minority Report-style pre-crime stuff here, just for the act of violence to not be pursued to the criminal's desired endpoint. How far away are we from this kind of technology? 

Thoughts?  Suggestions? 

Thursday, August 28, 2014

you don't even know

I'm sick of people saying that "Fancy" is the Song of the Summer.  "Fancy" is a fine song, but there is a certain sound, or mix of sounds, that make a song Song of the Summer-worthy, and "Fancy" is missing some of those elements.  Just like last year, even though a lot of people liked the bland, repetitive "Get Lucky," it still wasn't the Song of the Summer, the catchy, retrograde "Blurred Lines" was.  On this all reasonable minds agree.   But in the cases where they admit that not everybody is grooving on "Fancy" they are all like, "But the only other choice is 'Rude' and nobody wants that," which is true because it is a steaming pile.  But those are not the only two choices!  It makes me ever so cross that nobody is talking about what the actual Song of the Summer is, or should be--the only real choice:  "Classic," by MKTO.  It is the best of all the offerings; punchy, bouncy, fun.  Summer in a box.  I can't vouch for the awesomeness or lack thereof of the video--upon first glance it seems that there are some twelve-year-olds playing poker and drinking?  And hitting on their friends' sexy moms and older sisters?  The white one makes weird growly faces while he sings which is off-putting.  When he's not making stupid faces he looks like my cousin Max's secret younger brother (compliment--Max is handsome). 

It's too late now anyway, because we're closing in on September.  Too bad for all the people who've listened to the wrong song all summer.


Remember "Starry-eyed Surprise?"  That was a summer song that merited its title.  I just wish more people would consult me before they just hand out "Song of the Summer" cards all willy-nilly.  There needs to be order and reason to this process, folks.