Wednesday, June 30, 2010

Brendan Wuz Here, Part Uno


Christian's longtime friend and my new friend Brendan came to visit. We had so much fun, we almost funned ourselves to death.

More soon.

Monday, June 28, 2010

Looking Forward


Whew, there is so much coming up!

First, there is Canada Day, July 1st, where I will take the opportunity to explore Canada's overwhelming mediocrity. That's right. I said it. You're floating on your niceness, Canada! Don't think the world hasn't noticed. I don't think any of my Canadian readers will comment on this because they hate to make a fuss, but will bitch to their Canadian friends later. Prove me wrong, why don't you?

The Fourth of July, where I will celebrate my husband's birthday. I may or may not delve in to the United State's mediocrity. Hmmm. No, I don't think I will. I think mediocrity belongs to Canada.

July is going to be the Official Trash Month of Summer, where I will watch only trashy films, listen to trashy music, read trash books and talk to trashy people. The word rubbish would have come in handy here, don't you think?

A trip to North Carolina may be in the offing. More tattooing! Plus barbeque! Plus perhaps I meet my trashy nemesis, Randy G. Or not. Who is to say, really?

Also, I want to be finished with the neuralgia. I want to be done with pain.

Does anyone else have any goals for July?


Sunday, June 27, 2010

Lazy Sunday Links




Italy's soaring divorce rate has to do with mama's boys. Oh, it starts so innocently, doesn't it? First she offers you presents, then she takes over.

A really good article on re-thinking the Afghanistan War and Gen. McChrystal's departure. Follow-up question: should McChrystal have resigned?

Since Obama's election there has been a resurgence of White Power groups. Democracy Now has a documentary about it. Funny, if the situation was reversed Rush Limbaugh, Glenn Beck and The Rest would be freaking out.

And a review of Bret Easton Ellis's new book from the New York Times Sunday Book Review.


Animal Urine


You read that right. The problem is that I have a woodchuck and he insists on eating the plants that are precious to me. My dad said he's had some recent success using animal urine but that it stinks like hell.

I think I might invest in a have-a-heart trap to make sure that this woodchuck, and subsequent woodchucks leave my black-eyed susans, sweet potato vines, beets, swiss chard, carrots and sunflowers alone.

I hate woodchucks.

Eleven Life Lessons From The Big Lebowski





I loved the film from the moment it came out, and I'm glad there is a revival amongst college students and young adults. My dad has, more than once, been compared to The Dude, which has made the film all that more important to me. That being said, Screen Junkies has compiled some life lessons from The Big Lebowski, and now I'm sending them on to you. Yes, you.

Saturday, June 26, 2010

Film: Daybreakers


Okay, so some people have made the assumption that I watch a lot of really gory disgusting stuff. While I do watch scary stuff, the point is that it is scary. It's so simple: a scary film is scary. You're not supposed to feel good, you're supposed to be scared. In a rom-com, you're supposed to laugh and fall in love.

That being said, Daybreakers is a vampire film and there was some gore, so maybe not a film for the kids. The premise is that vampires have hunted humans almost to extinction and are going to go extinct themselves if they don't come up with a viable synthetic blood, and pronto. There is a rag-tag band of humans trying to shelter together and fight against the vampires out to get them.

I feel bad giving it this much room because certain things in the film just do not connect. As in, the film has almost zero interest in the vampires: how they live, what they do, how their social structure is ordered. You just have to know they want your blood. The humans do what humans always do in these sorts of movies: drive SUVs way too fast while being excited/agitated and screaming "what do we do now?"

As far as the central plot -- there are no more human to take real blood from (and we do know vampires will descend into Nosferato-like creatures if they drink their own blood) -- some might think its an oil allegory. You could also say that the vampires have set in motion a kind of fascist order (all the vampires look sharp) that falls apart when pressed. But falls into what? And if you want to stick with the oil allegory, then what does it mean that there are survivors in the end?
SPOILER

The human survivors find out that if they can set themselves on fire from daylight and then extinguish the flames, they'll turn back into humans. If a vampire is to use such a person to drink from, that vampire will turn back into a human. So the movie ends with vampires descending on new humans, and they in turn become human which means more vampires attack them, wash, rinse, repeat.

So if there is a way to turn the vampires back into humans where they become fodder for other vampires, what does that mean to the oil allegory? That with the right technology we can survive (?). What about the fascist allegory? It's confusing.

It's a film that could have been a lot better with a bit more care and thought.

A Word About Icelandic Politics



If you haven't read this article in the New York Times, please do it! The fellow above, Jon Gnarr, started a political party called the Best Party. He calls it the best party because it is the best. He promises free towels in all public swimming pools, polar bears in zoos, and a drug-free parliament by 2020. That last one kills me.

And guess what? The Best Party won the mayorship of Reykjavik. He now says he won't appoint any person to any post unless they have watched all five seasons of the wire. What a guy! From the link above you can get to one of his political campaign commercials to the tune of Tina Turner's "The Best."

God bless 'em.

Saturday Bill

Yeah, me too.



Thursday, June 24, 2010

A Visit to Etsy, Octo-Style




Squid Bully Squid makes all kind of crocheted squids and sea creatures. She also apparently loves bacon.


Westmama makes these. I looooove it. There aren't enough o's to show how much I love it.





Two things I love and I think go well together: mermaids and octos. Merchantship has some cool things too.

We Took A Ride


Hi there.

We took a driving loop from Brattleboro up through Grafton and down through Manchester. I thought I would take a lot of pictures, but I forgot I had my camera. So I got these two. So I guess I'll post these two. We're going back to Brattleboro on Saturday, since we kind if skimmed along it before we went north.

I think we should do what the sign says to do.

Sunday, June 20, 2010

I Pulled A Muscle


So I like to do yoga routines as laid out online by Yoga Journal. I've decided to try to push myself to try new poses that I always skip over. So I tried this yesterday and failed EPICALLY. So epic was my failure that I woke up to a big back pain. When Christian asked how I hurt myself I showed him the picture above and this was the following exchange:

Me: "It was in the routine for back pain. I wanted to try something new and push myself."

Christian: "Didn't your critical reasoning skills kick in and tell you that perhaps that pose would not help a painful back."

Me, quietly: "no."

Christian, quietly: "yeah."

This Debate Must Be Settled!


Christian maintains that anywhere I go in the U.S. besides North Carolina and South Carolina, no one would know what Shag means. AND, that they would only think of the British slang meaning.

I say NAY and no. I take the position that Shag is well-known as a dance, if not a kind of music.

He has thrown down the challenge that I have to ask ten of our friends to see if they know the real meaning of Shag is beach music and (secondarily) a dance. That is his challenge.

I know that I am right and yet, I can only worry that this will go the way of the Frog Hollow challenge. I spent the whole first year in Vermont asking people if they watched Frog Hollow when they were kids. No one had any idea. I would sing the theme song and do a dance which was endlessly amusing to Christian. Then it turned out that Frog Hollow was a local production from WRAL, and only kids around Durham would have been able to see it.

While I was sad that more kids couldn't see the majesty of Frog Hollow back in the day, I was more sad that I lost the argument. So that makes it very important that I do not loose this debate. I'm right. Right?

Saturday, June 19, 2010

Is Anyone Watching World Cup?


If you are, can you catch me up?

I Love NMT


So this time my therapist Dave (but he goes by Day) worked on my core. But, he worked on my core FROM THE FRONT! It was nuts, and my tummy is sore, like I've done thousands of sit-ups. Day also worked on my neck to help release the pinched nerve. For the first time in years my neck isn't a solid mass of stiffness.

He's also helping me to think about my posture and using my body correctly to do the things I like to do, like garden, swim, and be active. It's weird how much posture helps. I also know when I've pushed myself too far because I start to sag. But I am feeling much, much better. Fewer headaches and they last only for a few minutes.

I want to sing it out from the mountaintop -- go get yourself some neuro-muscular therapy! It will heal whatever ails you!


More on Oil Spill


So as I have admitted, the initial news of the rig explosion and subsequent oil gusher did not really register with me. And I am ashamed of that. But as its gone on and on I keep getting more tuned into the tragedy of it.

With that in mind, I have to say that I was completely outraged by Rep. Joe Barton's (R-Texas) apology to BP CEO for the "White House shakedown" for the fund to help local people that are losing their livelihood because of the spill. Eventually he apologized for the apology, but how idiotic is Barton? (Answer: Very.)

And I love Biden's response. For once, his mouth does some good.

Personally, I think it shows that Republicans care more about business interests than they do about people. I don't understand why more Americans can't make that connection.

Friday, June 18, 2010

Off To NMT!

I can't wait for my neuro-muscular therapy today! I'm ready to be manipulated and my joints are ready to be articulated. I feel so good afterwards, even though I'm also a little sore. I love it!

Some Friday Links


I've been messing around looking at octopi lately. God, I love them.

If you want to see a baby cake (not made by baby butlers), go here. It's actually really interesting. And also interesting when they cut the cake. Eeeew.

Some scientific -ish news that mother-in-law problems are worse for women. Uh, I could have told them that.

And finally, a website that my mother would not approve of. (It's not dirty, it's extremely childish.)




Friday Bill Murray

Bill! Bill it's Friday! You can smile if you want. But only if you want . . . I'll love you regardless.

Wednesday, June 16, 2010

The Perry Bible Fellowship


My good friend Kris got me on to The Perry Bible Fellowship. I laugh myself silly with these, and I know more than once I've laughed until I'm crying and it hurts. I hope you all get a giggle with these.

Ruthie Wuz Here, part deux


When Ruthie was here we went to Mass Moca to see the new exhibits. I wasn't allowed to take pictures on the first floor, where there was an exhibit called "Everything That Rises Must Converge." It was sort of cool because the artist had made the black tree stumps covered in black velvet with birds -- ducks, wrens, sparrows -- caught in the inky blackness and they couldn't fly. In light of the rig explosion, it was especially poignant.



On the second floor there was another exhibit that was cool. One of the artists made a piece that wound all over the space. It was white paper, wrinkled, folded, twists to points. I felt like I was in someone's colon. And another room was draped in white and a generator slowly billowed the drapes full and then just as slowly sucked all the air out. It was just kind of a lovely show.


But as I write this I realize that I don't have any pictures of Ruthie. Damn me!

There Are No Baby Butlers With Baby Gramps



Just mean licks, old tricks and one hell of a beard. He stomped his feet so hard drinks fell on the floor. He spun his steel-body guitar around, played things we all know like he invented them. In general, he is fantastic and go go go see him if you get a chance. You will not regret it. Hell, you won't even believe how much you won't regret it. He is just amazing, and I am happy to shill for him here.

Go to Baby Gramps.com for all the Baby Gramps info you need.

Tuesday, June 15, 2010

Going To See Baby Gramps Tonight

With Doug and Karen. At least, I think that it his name. I'm expecting diapers. No, I hope there are diapers. But no baby butlers. Oh God, I really hope there are no baby butlers.

Allow Me


There is this site called Let Me Google That For You. I think it is genius! You type in the google search, and a link comes up with all the sites it returns. You send that link to whoever and they have all that information at their fingertips. It works well when someone asks you something (Where can I canoe in Vermont?) and you respond "you could just google that" and they look confused. Try it.

The best part is that when the person clicks on the link, it goes to google, auto-types the search in, clicks the search button and then these words appear on the screen:

"Was that so hard?"

Then all the info comes up. It's hilarious.

From Passive-Aggressive Notes


I love this note. The fact that she points out he probably doesn't know her (his parents' fault!), and that she will be taken up in the Rapture. Beautiful.

Ruthie Wuz Here


I don't have the pictures ready yet, but our friend Ruth visited and we went to Mass MOCA, had ice cream and looked at exhibits.

I forgot she was diabetic and made a rhubarb-strawberry pie. God, I'm dumb sometimes.

Film: Julie and Julia


I have to say, I enjoyed this film more than I thought I would. I was ready for it to be totally saccharine, but it wasn't -- completely. Streep is completely charming: laughing and lovely as Julia Child. Amy Adams has a bit more difficult role as Julie, the woman that cooks every recipe in Mastering the Art of French Cooking.

Streep and Stanley Tucci are great together as a married couple that are still fantastically in love. Streep's Julia Childs is surrounded by love: a goofy, funny sister and some female French cooks that come to be friends and confidantes. Julie's marriage with Eric is paralleled rather well against the Childs'. But to me, similarities end there. Julie and Eric are starting out in the world and are navigating the waters of early marriage and careers. Julia and Paul are in their middle age, secure in their marriage. Julie has fights with her husband, is a fairly selfish person and doesn't seem to have friends -- at least not any that the movie bothers to name. Julia and Paul talk things out, support each other, and Julia seems to be a friend to anyone and everyone.

Okay, so it's an apples and oranges film. It's not supposed to be a perfect reflection of two women at different points in space and time.

Julie keeps saying that Julia saved her through food, and that food saved Julia. But the movie doesn't set up a construct in which either is in danger, other than Julie having a job that drains her emotionally and Julia not wanting to be a housewife. And here is the thing that I had a hard time with: the movie makes the current generation seem adrift and narcissistic while the ex-pats of the 1950's were finding ways to do great things.

After all, Julie is putting false constraints of herself to conquer French cooking in a year and is going through the steps that Julia took eight years to lay out and then get published. In other words, Julia Childs did the heavy lifting, Julie Powell isn't doing anything heroic: she's just cooking. Sometimes she cooks badly (she burns a stew); sometimes she cooks bravely (she bones a duck); sometimes she just cooks. But at every step she is looking back, taking courage and instruction from Julia Childs. And at the end, Julie is feted for her ability to follow Julia's recipes. Standing on the shoulders of giants, indeed.

So what shall we celebrate? Looking to our mothers and grandmothers for instruction? Shall we celebrate that we can choose who will be our role model? Shall we celebrate that we can stand on the shoulders of giants, even if our own achievement is copying their achievement?

I dunno.

Sunday, June 13, 2010

Film: Crazy Heart



(Sometimes I spoil things. If you'd rather not know, stop reading already)

We watched Crazy Heart last night and I found it to be quite touching. It is, at heart a knowledge film: a grizzled old fella learns how to live again. For this film living means being open to authentic feelings of love, connection, parenting and song writing. Jeff Bridges is doing a variation on The Dude from Lebowski and there are lots of callbacks to that film: the opening shot is at a bowling alley, he fishes his glasses out from a garbage can, he constantly has a double of whiskey in hand.

The film also has a strong theme of aging within it. Bad Blake (Bridges) has a protege Tommy Sweet (Colin Farrell) who has usurped him and found more fame than Blake ever did. While Blake is tooling around backroads playing in bars and bowling alleys, Sweet is playing arenas. The scenes between Sweet and Blake are kind -- the men don't really hate each other, but Blake is hurt by the fame that Sweet has achieved thanks to Blake's mentoring. Sweet admits that he needs new material and asks if Blake would write him some songs, reinforcing the understanding that Blake is now second fiddle to his former protege and really fucking around with Blake's head. Blake just can't accept that he is getting older and that he needs to change -- give up drinking, smoking, and start losing weight.

Maggie Gyllenhaal plays a reporter who comes to fall in love with Blake, and Blake clearly loves her and her little boy. But he's still a chain-smoking drunk with a smoldering resentment at the way fame has by-passed him. The romantic storyline was done well, I thought. It's the kind of romance that never has the timing right, where one person is too far ahead or behind the other for there to be a real relationship. But when Blake is looking after her son, Buddy, for an afternoon, he loses him. Fair enough -- that can happen to parents. Except that Blake was drunk and drinking in a bar when Buddy wondered off. And that is the point where Blake realizes that he needs to get sober.

So then he gets sober and writes the best songs of his life and becomes a better person. I felt like the ending was a little rushed and totally sidestepped the trouble of a newly sober person who has to re-engage with the world and the fact that people around him will continue to drink.

But I have to say that Bridges did an amazing job and definitely deserved the Oscar he won. It was fantastic to hear him sing the songs and to see The Dude, Country Singer Version, resurface.

Lazy Sunday Links



Check out these surrealist paintings by Tetsuya Ishida. I think that I just became a fan of his.

Apparently Sarah Palin thinks there should be more government regulation (really, Ms Palin? I thought you didn't approve of Big Government) so that we can keep drilling for offshore oil.

Possibly the worst use of quotation marks. Ever.

World Cup is on, and England, as usual, made some kind of mistake and the whole country thinks way too much about it.




Peonies!


These all came from my flower garden, and more blooms are on the way. It's an embarrassment of riches, but it also makes me really happy.

Friday, June 11, 2010

Whaddaya Think?

about my new look?

Face Work

I'm determined to be able to do that thing with my eyebrows where the inner section of your eyebrow goes up. People can do it when they get mad, but mostly muscle control over that section is not fine enough to do it at will. Two guys can do it: Bill Murray and Woody Allen. It's what makes them look hangdog, I guess.

But I am practicing! And soon I will be able to do it at will! I wonder if it will make me look like a dude, since it seems like only two dudes can do it. God, I hope not. But I'm practicing anyways.

Friday Bill Murray

Oh Bill. Whenever I see your lovable mug I know it's Friday. God love ya.

Wednesday, June 9, 2010

Just Some Things


Look, I do write and I hope to get published and all, so it's not like I keep my life under wraps by any means. But I just don't want a cell phone. I think I'm kind of like Bill Murray that way: there is one phone number to reach me. If I don't pick up, leave a message and I call back. It's simple, I think. Unless I'm traveling and then it's a nightmare.

Other things:
Musica electronica puts me to sleep. That goes double for house music.

I secretly like it when both the cats sleep near/on me. It makes me feel like they would do my bidding. If I asked nicely. The flip side is I secretly get jealous of Christian when the cats love on him. He's so kind and patient with them that they pile on him.

I worry about the secret world of baby butlers in America. Babies shouldn't have to wear bow-ties or petticoats. I take the position that baby butlers are wrong.

I really am out of control obsessed with bedding: sheets, blankets, quilts, duvet covers and the like. Thread count really matters, people. It matters! To me!

There. That is all. For now.

Let's Take a Hike!




On a gorgeous Tuesday, Christian and I decided to take a hike on Mount Greylock. We packed some water bottles and snacks and set out. The first part we went to was the Money Brook Falls (seen below). Then we took a trail to loop around the mountain. It wound up being about five miles of up-and-down hiking, but it was great until the last hour, when my back and neck were killing me. But we made it through and had fun at the same time.

When we got home, we broiled some fish for dinner and watched Akira Kurosawa's "I Live In Fear." We had decided we were only going to watch trashy movies for a while, but this was not as trashy as I had hoped, though it is kind of brilliant. But we stick with our plan to only watch trashy flicks this summer. Any recommendations?

This Is The First Part





We got down to Money Brook Falls, easy. This waterfall, you just keep looking up and up and up. It goes really high, and it's gorgeous.

Down By The Falls

We took a picture, my baby and me . . . .

Monday, June 7, 2010

Oh God, I'm Such A Nerd . . .


. . . because this makes me laugh so hard.
I hope you laugh too.

More Proof of Baby Workers

My ongoing research into baby workers and baby butlers continues with these two expose pictures. I don't know if the underground child labor market will ever be broken. All I can do is show the photos . . . and the pain.

They told him to go ahead and get used to the computer because he is going to be doing a lot of data entry. And he better not spill that sippy cup (which is spill proof).



Does it ever stop? Domestic work -- hanging up socks and underwear. Their little fingers are so dexterous they can handle clothespins no problem. But they shouldn't have to. They shouldn't have to . . . .




Tornado Watch 2010!!!

There were no tornadoes. We remain a tornado free farmstead. Whew.

Sunday, June 6, 2010

Tornado Watch 2010


We are under a Tornado Watch until 8pm! omg! Is that the one that is serious, or the one where it's like "Hey, you might have this really horrible thing, or not. Maybe. We're just covering our asses."

But it's raining really hard now and is supposed to rain all day. The sky is quite black, which is unusual.

I remember being little, say seven years old, and the weatherman breaking in to my after-school show (Frog Hollow, anyone?) announcing there was a tornado in the area and that everyone should go into an interior room before windows blew in and glass spikes embedded themselves in your throat. That freaked me out big time. So I packed my favorite stuffed animals, wrapped them up into a bundle with my blankie. I hugged the bundle to my chest while I sat against a wall and waited for dad to tell me where to go. He came in, looked at me and then at the television. He watched the weatherman tell tales of tornado destruction. Then he crouched down to look me in the face and said -- seriously, now -- "don't worry. Tornados only hit trailer parks." Then he left the room.

Such a soothing presence, that one.

Anyway, Tornado Watch 2010! It's on!
(I hope there aren't any tornados for real though)

Saturday, June 5, 2010

Yes, Coyotes


There really are coyotes here. Their baying is totally unmistakable.

Sweet Peonies




From the Garden


The Front Garden




Peonies!!!!



Peonies and Foxglove


Lamb's Ear, Columbine, Bee Balm, Hollyhock, Lilly of the Valley



Stone Cold Garden


The rock garden leading up to the barn and the barn garden.


The barn garden. It's a little overgrown and needs attention right now.

Are You Rubbing This In Or What?

I pass this place on the way to Bennington, an old house that has been restored where the occupants are keeping chickens. They have this sign out -- "Fresh Eggs Organic" -- daily. But nowhere on the sign or in the yard is any sign that they are for sale. All I can think of is that they are bragging.

"Hey! Everyone! We have Fresh Organic Eggs! They are so delicious. Don't you wish you could have some? Yes? Well you can't. They aren't for sale. Good day."

It makes me laugh.

Friday, June 4, 2010

Friday Bill Murray

Yes, I'm excited about the weekend too.

UPDATES


My headaches are pretty well gone. My neck is tender still and I don't want to overwork it, but basically pain-free. I cannot tell you how wonderful it is to wake up and not have a headache. My sciatic nerve, however, is entrapped and my right hip and back are spasming like crazy, so I'm going to have to step up my yoga till next Wednesday.

Mom's surgery went well. She's home and I talked to her last night. Even though she was really fuzzy, both she and dad said she was okay.

I finally have a windshield that doesn't have a crack in it! I got it replaced yesterday and I'm so happy about that. It's weird how these small things take forever to fix. There is always something bigger that takes up attention.

What I'm Listening To Now




The more I hear off the new Fruit Bats album, Ruminant Band, the more I like it. Christian, Rich and I took a trip down the back roads from Vermont to the Montague Book Mill in western Massachusetts and "Being On Your Own" came up. It's such a good album for tooling along backroads. I also bet any gardeners reading this would like to have this music in their ears when they garden. If you like the Beatles I think you'll like the Fruit Bats.




I love Hem. There is just something about this band that I always come back to, always love. I love their cover of Elvis Costello's "(The Angels Wanna Wear My) Red Shoes." I've also been dialing up "Pacific Street" from the Eveningland album. Oh my god. Just do yourself a favor and buy their music. It's like clouds of rainbows going straight to your brain.



The Sadies album Stories Often Told has this beautiful song "Within A Stone of Our Land." I love the country guitar and the rise and swell of it.



Thursday, June 3, 2010

Two Things . . .

1. The coyotes are out and about tonight. Hearing them bark (scream? yowl? wtf is that noise?) is scary as hell. The cat's don't seem to mind, though.

2. The massage wasn't really a massage. It was neuro-muscular therapy (NMT) and it did sort of hurt. But this afternoon I was pain-free for the first time in ages. Hurrah for NMT! I go back next Wednesday for more pressure/trigger point work.

Thoughts on Toilet Paper



Also, this makes me laugh. (From passive-aggressive notes.com)

So this brought a story to mind about living in London with Heather and Lori, two lovely ladies that are still my besties. There was a visit from a father and stepmother named Marge, God rest her soul, that resulted in some really funny incidents. One of them was when Marge took the toilet paper that we had bought communally and hid it in her room. It wasn't so funny then, but damn if it isn't funny now.

What's especially amusing is that at the time I had never heard of such a thing as hiding or hoarding toilet paper before, but now I realize it's actually more common that I would have dreamed.

This Makes Me Laugh


Conan, Colbert and Stewart in a dance-off.
(from the youtubes.com)

You Guys, I Am So Nervous


I'm nervous because I'm getting a massage today. Now, I have had some experience with masseuses. (Is the plural masseusi?) I've had one who walked in too soon, when I had undressed but wasn't under the sheet yet. Both of us tried to cover with small talk but it was too late: I just couldn't go back again. It was a guy, so that makes a difference I think. I've had other massages where you walk out feeling like a cat -- like someone lightly stroked your back for thirty minutes and even though it's nice, it's not therapeutic.

Personally, I like deep tissue massages. I want to feel it days later. I want to feel a difference in my muscles. So I'm nervous because I hope the masseuse will do it that way. But I'm also nervous that he will do it too much that way and that this will hurt.

I think this massage will actually hurt.

Also, my mother -- whom I love -- is having oral surgery today. So I am hoping the best for her. Mouth surgery pretty much sucks.

I was trying to think of a kind of surgery that doesn't suck, but I think they all do. My appendectomy was pretty easy, but I still had to go to the hospital and all.

Wednesday, June 2, 2010

What I'm Reading Now


I started Ragtime by E.L. Doctorow just to have something to break up the huge block of Hiroshima-related material. And I got surprisingly interested in it. I forgot how much Doctorow can do with declarative sentences. Plus, its a fascinating, albeit fictionalized snapshot of the Northeast metropolis before WWI and before the Great Depression.

Hiroshima in America: Fifty Years of Denial is the book I've been looking for forever. Robert Jay Lifton and Greg Mitchell look at how the atomic bomb was portrayed in America and how the narrative got shaped from official and unofficial sources.

Last Train From Hiroshima: The Survivors Look Back by Charles Pellegrino is the kind of self-punishing book that I can only read in one of two ways: a chapter at a time, or in three sittings. For this one, Im taking it a chapter at a time. While Lifton and Mitchell are looking at the bomb and America, Pellegrino stays in Japan and the results are devastating. The horrors of the bomb have neutral terms like "de-gloving," and when you find out what that refers to, you just want to find your loved ones and hold them.

Two other books that Christian and I are reading out loud to each other are The Manuscript Found in Saragossa, which really does need to be read out loud because it is hilarious. Also, And The Waters Turned To Blood. While it sounds biblical, it's about the red tides on the Pamlico -- my old camp-days stomping grounds.

Tipper and Al

(AFP)

Breaking up? What? Why?
OK, all I want to know is which one of them fell in love with someone else. My money is on Al.

Oh Dear


Israel, as we all know, fired on a Turkish-backed vessel that went through Israel's naval blockade to deliver supplies to Gaza residents. Eleven were killed. Whatever Israel said -- that it's soldiers were fired upon or the ship broke a blockade -- it's going to be saying again.

I didn't realize it, but there is an Irish ship, the Rachel Corrie, that was part of the original flotilla but had some logistical problems. Now the Rachel Corrie is headed for Gaza, come hell or high water and the Irish government has said there will be serious consequences if any Irish citizens are hurt.

I hope they make it through okay. Actually, I hope lots of countries start sending relief aid to Gaza. But I hope the Irish ship makes it through without casualties.

Tuesday, June 1, 2010

What's Up, June??


June, I'd like a little word with you. I'd like for you to be the best month of the year so far. I think it will be hard because we had a wicked fun party in May, along with a visit from my folks. So here are a few things that will help you be awesome:

bring on the fireflies
don't bring the heat so much. 80's are fine.
let's get my neck muscles loosened up so I stop having neuralgia.
and also, we need a surprise. You can surprise me with that. I hope its fantastic.

There. That being said, I'm glad June is here.
But also, Christian's birthday is just around the corner and I have zero ideas for a prezzie. I should go have a think on that . . . .

I am the unreliable witness to my own existence