there were rumors he was into field hockey players

I feel like I should have something profound to say, coming back after a sporadic intermission, but I don’t.  I’m spent.  I wrote nearly 40 pages this week (class is over, can I get a woo hoo?), I. threw up all over himself and the couch, we thought G. had Lyme Disease but it turned out to be a mild case of chicken pox (which the vaccine gave her – and no, there is no refund if your kid gets the disease the vaccine was supposed to prevent, even if you are paying out of pocket) or something harmless with the alarming-sounding name of “hand, foot, and mouth disease”, then I. got better and decided he was going to show me that he didn’t have to do anything I say. 

It was a long week.

Predictably, insomnia has returned which, for the first time ever, is not entirely unwelcome because it gives me some time to myself. 

I am tired; it’s true, and short-tempered and grumpy.  And just generally bitchy.  But I’m not over the edge crazy quite yet.  It’s been a wild week but a full one, a rich one.  Or maybe I’m just so far gone I’ve actually lost all reason.

There’s a slight delay when I type — either my internet connection or the site, I’m not sure which — and it reminds me of when there’s an echo on the phone and you hear your own voice a second after the words leave your mouth.  Like being a voyeur on your own conversation.  Even when we think we are communicating in real time, we often aren’t.

So, anyway, I’m coming down now – sitting here listening to the Pixies and the party going on (despite the rain) across the street while I wait for whatever is going to happen tonight to happen.  And having a bad case of run-on sentences, apparently.  I am realizing for the second time in as many weeks that I’ve been listening to the Pixies in general and this particular album (Surfer Rosa) specifically for 20 years.  It seems improbable to me that I’ve done anything for 20 years, much less listen to this band.  It seems like maybe 5 or so years ago since the clear cassette with cracks down the sides went with me everywhere, but it was actually two decades ago.  This was brought home to me when the tattooed and well-pierced girl who drives the ice cream truck in my neighborhood showed up in a “death to the pixies” shirt.  I had to say something while I was holding I. by one hand and G. by the other, both of them hopping from foot to foot waiting for their crappy ice cream.  The girl said, “Yeah, I saw them” and I said I had, too.  And she asked, “Really?  When?  I saw them in 2004.”  *Sigh.*  Let me educate you, young padawan.  I saw them at The Orpheum in 1990, ‘k?  BEFORE Kurt Cobain made, like, a billion dollars just by worshiping them.  So step back, ice cream-sister and slide me that Rocket Pop for free why doncha’?   

Not much planned for the immediate future (unless that ice cream girl wants to come back to learn all about The Buzzcocks).  Tonight will probably just be me and J. and a movie, and that’s fine; I’m not sure how much more I’m ready to handle quite yet.  I have tons of things to do, but none of them will get done tonight, I’m guessing.  There’s (always) laundry to do and bills to pay, there’s a story I’ve been toying with for a couple of years that I’d like to finish, a forum I was recently introduced to that I’d like to explore, and a stack of books to read.  A HUGE stack.  I’m gulping down books in the same way I did sleep after G. was born – every available minute spent on the task.  So far I’ve read Nick Hornby’s Long Way Down – decidedly “eh” even though I usually love his writing.  Every character was either unlikeable or wildly inconsistent.  Anyway, I’ve got his H[if the guys on the lawn at this party wake up G. I will personally go over there and beat every last one of them with a big heavy stick]ow to be Good in the “to read” pile, so there’s another shot for him in this go ’round. 

I’ve also read Snuff by Chuck Palahniuk.  Average Looking Youngish Librarian Guy recommended him to me which, if you think about it, is a little weird.  It’s about a porn star trying to break a gang bang record by fucking 600 men in a day.  So, you know, maybe not the kind of thing you recommend to just anyone?  Or maybe he was hitting on me?  I don’t think so.  Average Looking Youngish Librarian Guy and I have similar taste in authors and we’ve talked about them on occasion.  Plus, the book sucks.  I’m sorry, Chuck Palahniuk.  You’re a much better writer than me, but this book just really sucked.  As Average Looking Youngish Librarian Guy said, you pretty much know what you’re getting into when you read this guy, the question is just whether he’ll pull it off or not.  This time, he did not.  The book is sort of pointless, mostly sexless, and sort of left me feeling greasy.  I also have another book of his in my stack (Lullaby).  I’m all about redemption.  Oh, and the movie they’ve made of Choke has a great trailer.  Check it out.

Also to be read: Cell by Stephen King, Persepolis (the graphic novel) by Marjane Satrapi, and This Book Will Save Your Life by A.M. Holmes.  I’ll let you know if my life was saved.

Oh, and so you don’t think I’m all negative reviews and etc. I will say that I just read The Road by Cormac McCarthy and I really loved it.  Or, well, greatly appreciated it since it’s not really a middle school girl squealy “I loved it so much!” kind of book.  It’s also being made into a movie, which I am wary of.  But it really was a life changing kind of book I recommend.  Just make sure you’ve got plenty of canned food on hand.  I had Cormac McCarthy confused in my head with E. Annie Proulx for a long time.  I have a great deal of respect for (and share some odd coincidental things with) E. Annie Proulx, but I don’t much like her writing.  This a) kept me from reading Cormac McCarthy and b) made me surprised to find out that Cormac McCarthy is a man.  If you know me, none of these things will really surprise you.  But I’ve straightened things out and am now a McCarthy fan, even if post-apocalyptic fiction does bring me down a bit.

So from end of the world misery to hilarity – I’ll share two funny things I stumbled onto this week.  First, from McSweeney’s, Paradise Lost in Three Lines or Less:

Paradise Lost

ADAM: Paradise has arbitrary dietary restrictions?

DEVIL: They’re really more like guidelines.

GOD: Incorrect.

First noticed on Portland Psst!, ganked from McSweeney’s.  J. and I have been going around saying “Incorrect” in what we imagine is a deep, godlike voice for the past few days.

Also, did you know that Joss Whedon was doing a web series?  Neither did I.  You can find the trailer here (I’m having problems posting it).   Joss Whedon + Neil Patrick Harris + Nathan Fillion = a good laugh, guaranteed. 

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~ by other on June 28, 2008.

3 Responses to “there were rumors he was into field hockey players”

  1. I am realizing for the second time in as many weeks that I’ve been listening to the Pixies in general and this particular album (Surfer Rosa) specifically for 20 years.

    Yes, but Kim Deal is cool! 😆

    Average Looking Youngish Librarian Guy recommended him to me which, if you think about it, is a little weird.

    Mmm. Chuck wrote Fight Club too.

    Sounds like your week was about as much fun as mine… tho I actually have gone over the edge…

    I’m thinking of switching to heroin next… couldn’t possibly be any worse, right? 😉

    nina

  2. @ nina –

    After just catching up on your week I have to say – whatever you want, I’m buying. You deserve it! 🙂

  3. lmao! I may take you up on that babe…! 😛

    nina

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