Sayonara, 2012

See ya, year.  We had some good times.  We had some sucky times.  2013, all eyes are on you.  Let's do this. 
And also, let's skip all the horrific death and suffering.

And also, less people going to the grocery store in actual pajamas (have a little civility, wouldya?).

The hills are alive with the sound of Jake, Elwood, and the blues

We were watching The Sound of Music a few days ago, and we realized that The Blues Brothers movie is basically The Sound of Music, set in Chicago with the blues.
Eerie coincidences, woooooo:
It's a musical.
The protagonist(s) are on a mission from God, each directly from Catholic school/abbey, and sent by Mother Superior.
The Von Trapp children are essentially Murph and the Magic Tones. 
The kids/musicians are being promoted for a big show, throughout the entire movie. 
They're being chased by nazis. 
Cab Calloway parallels the Von Trapp uncle who is a concert promoter.
There's also the jealous and evil girlfriend in each film: The Baroness in TSOM, and Carrie Fisher in TBB.
There's a happy ending in both, except for Jake and Elwood ending up in jail... But -- the Von Trapps escape into the mountains and Jake and Elwood get the money needed for the orphanage.
See, not so weird, is it?  It would have been kind of fun if the Blues Brothers and their band did a puppet show.  But instead they crashed a shitload of cars in a shopping mall.  So there's that.

Happy Chronica

This here's my stepkid with a gorgeous new 12-string.
The guitar count in the house is steadily rising as the teen years manifest.

Llamas and cheese

A few years back, my husband and I went through a funny Peruvian phase.  We wanted to decorate with pan flutes and miniature llamas and brightly colored woven yarn sculptures.  We bought a CD from those Peruvian dudes that always have their table set up next to the Space Needle.  We also bought some Peruvian doodads from a some other Peruvian guys' table at the Houston Science Museum.  I frequently imagined my whole house covered in decor from Cost Plus and went completely coo coo for cocoa puffs over any sort of llama art. Sometimes I wore a Peruvian crocheted hat.
I have never been to Peru.
Neither has my husband.
I'm not sure either of us will ever go there in our lifetimes.
I doubt it.
We got over the Peruvian thing, but we still have one pan flute hanging in the bedroom.  Just to remember.

All you need

I am fairly certain that everything that a person will ever need to know about being a decent human being can be learned by repeatedly watching Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory back to back with Groundhog Day.

What channel are you on?

I read that making art creates a channel for truth.
I believe that.

Another successful camping trip with a toddler

We are back from Twin Harbor State Park.  I invented a totally awesome and delicious, yet-to-be-named breakfast item: 
Scrambled egg sandwich with mayo on Franz' Milk and Honey bread, stuffed with with Fritos and sharp cheddar.
Crunchy, cheesy proteiney goodness.

Complete breakfast, yarp.

The Mysteries of the universe

Just out of curiosity, I wonder what the most complicated instructional video is on youtube.  I have plenty of friends who have taught themselves to crochet, cook, paint, draw, program, understand math, fold diapers, and so much more - all thanks to the magic of youtube and other peoples' willingness to share their skills through tutorials.

Yesterday, I was wondering to myself how far it goes.  I had to have 2 surgical procedures in the last couple of years.  I looked them both up on youtube before undergoing them.  Yep, they were both on there, being used as teaching tools.  It eased my anxiety to see actual videos of what was about to happen to me.  I also wondered if there's a limit.  Brain surgery?  Rocket science?  YES.  It is all there.  Carl Sagan will explain the cosmos to you from the grave on youtube.  It doesn't get much better than that.

Youtube, I would like to be your girlfriend.

"I'm not here to make friends."

All of those ridiculous elimination competition shows are all about showing what a ruthless douchecanoe you can be to get to a prize.  Since the beginning of reality game shows a couple of decades ago, the interviews/confessional time/talk-to-the-audience divulgence segment always seems to include the contestants acting all tough and saying, "I'm not here to make friends.  I'm here to WIN."  And then they beat on their chests like silverback gorillas and stomp away.

Do we really need more assholes?  In these times, do we really need to see who can be King of the Assholes in order to win an outrageous prize?  Look, I have lived in cities and neighborhoods with a lot of violent crime.  I already know that human beings can be completely horrible to each other and take advantage, lie, cheat, steal, etc.

YAWN.  CLICK.

Here's what Jay and I were discussing:  They should turn it around.

"I'm not here to make friends."
"Ummm, actually...yes, you are here to make friends."
"What?"
"This is a show about making friends.  The person that earns the most friendships, in a heartfelt and honest way, wins."

It's easy to cheat and be a dick.  Being a shitheel is not a strategy.
I want to see a show about who can win a prize (an actual pay-off, not just a warm fuzzy feeling) by actually doing good things, and not being a manipulative bottom dweller.  It would give me a little more hope for the human race.

My husband's grandpa always said that the right thing to do is usually the hardest thing to do.  So, let's see some of that for a change.

Diaper cakes, not so much.

I'll say it.  I don't like "diaper cakes".
They are the ubiquitous baby shower prop that is a multi-tiered "cake" that is made up of rolled-up disposable diapers, and then taped together with colored ribbons to coordinate with the decor of the shower.

Gross.  I just cannot see how something as nasty as a diaper should somehow be transformed into pretend food.  I realize that the diaper is unused when being integrated into this monstrosity, but - food, diapers...these 2 things just don't belong together, conceptually.

Equally revolting to me is the idea of individual diapers being wrapped into cellophane with decorative ribbon and twisted on the ends like taffy and Tootsie Rolls.  Mmmm, diaper candy.  What a treat.  The landfill is crying tears for your diaper candy, and anyway, who wants to have to unwrap all that jazz to get to a diaper, when the baby is in dire need of a change?  What a waste.

Yes, let's please keep polishing the turd.

I can feel the devil walking next to me

Jack FM, if you were a person, and not a psychotic radio station, I would say to you:
 
Honey, I love you. The world really is your oyster, but please cut down on playing  "One Night In Bangkok."

Oy - Every day is too much.........just.........too much.

I forgot - my life is terrible

Apparently, my life is terrible. During a recent visit, my mother starting crying during one of our meals, as if my life saddens her.  Clearly, we have different agendas.

She said, "Doesn't it make you sad?"
I said, "Doesn't what make me sad?"
She said, "Everything...doesn't this all get to you?"

Hmmm. NO.

I feel like any day is a good day, if I'm not so down and out that I'm wearing flattened waterbottles strapped to my feet as shoes.
Her day is bad if Starbucks messes up her latte.
Pretty much.

In other news

News helicopters circling overhead for the second time this week.

Currently, our flavor du jour is Channel 7.
Monday, it was Channel 4 and Channel 7.
Isn't the non-news tasty?

Oh, south side...you are never dull.
(But I kind of wish you were.)

Preferably where the streets do have names

No, Bono, I would not like to live where the streets have no name.  That sounds like a really bad idea.  I can't even imagine how much gas and time I'd waste, trying to find places.  Or, how would I describe how to get to my house, or go anywhere?  I know you were trying to be deep and esoteric, and hide from the world, or whatever.
But really, just.......no.

Oh so true. I think we all know people like this.

"A victim act is a form of passive aggression.

It seeks to achieve gratification not by honest hard work or a contribution made out of one's experience, or insight, or love, but by manipulation of others by the silent (and not-so silent) threat.

The victim compels others to come to his rescue or to believe as he wishes by holding them hostage to the prospect of his own further illness/meltdown/mental dissolution, or simply by threatening to make their lives so miserable that they'll do what he wants.

Casting yourself as the victim is the antithesis of doing your work.

Don't do it.

If you're doing it, stop."

You are so right, Pressfield.

The War of Art

I highly recommend reading The War of Art, by Steven Pressfield.

If you've ever had an inner demon related to expressing your art, music, creativity, or whatever.  Drop everything and read this book.

Whatever your gift is, it should come out while you're here and alive.

Thank you to my dear friend Stacy McQueen, for telling me about this book!

Star is weird

The baby is downstairs with my husband, and I haven't changed the channel from Sprout's Goodnight Show. Here is what I'd like to know:
Why does Star sing the "Brusha Brusha Brusha" toothbrushing song? He doesn't have teeth.  What the hell does he think he's brushing

Why does Star have a goodnight show? Stars COME UP at night. He should be going to bed at the asscrack of dawn when the SUN is coming up.

He is the creepiest puppet ever. I could give you many, many reasons why, but I'll start with the fact that he has fingers - and also wires that waterfall out of his head.
And no eyelashes.
Jay said that his eyeballs look like testicles.

 They revamped Star at some point. At least now his bottom jaw moves when he talks, instead of his upper jaw (Yuck.  Weird). And he got eyelids. Before, he just looked like he was in shock.  He still looks like a squatting triangle with arm flaps, and not a star.  
He still looks like he's gone septic.

I would file a restraining order against that puppet, if'n it turned up on my doorstep.  NO LIE.

I really need to watch some adult programming tonight to cancel this crap out.

I may or may not have had enough coffee this morning, but I swear that Morrison's singing dog guitar plays Stairway to Heaven.

Woofer

The future is wide open.  And I am thankful for volume control.

Great googly moogly

Google, I fucking lobe your guts some days.  You have outdone yourself with the Moog today.
If I could marry a search engine, it would very likely be you.

I know this is only temporary, but today, it's a fully operational Moog.

Trader Joe's Haiku

Trader Joes haiku for the day:

damn you, trader joes
snack capital of the world
i cannot quit you

Brought to you today, by brie logs, Unexpected Cheddar cheese, Cookie Butter, and Kettle Corn Cookies.

Oh yes, now I remember

Just a quick word to the wise for those with not-yet-walking toddlers:

If your rugrat has any sort of bulky walker device, push toy, or other thingy with wheels that they bulldoze across the room with, at an alarmingly fast and unpredictable speed/direction, DO NOT ROCK THE FLIPS.  Wear closed-toed shoes.

You're welcome.

That is all.

I miss y'all

Asylum St. Spankers...what's the dang deal?  Why did y'all have to break up?  You were one of my favorite bands from my Austin days.  I still have your pictures on my bedroom wall, next to a washboard that I got at an antique shop on Greenwood Ave.

The universe just isn't the same without your non-amplifiedness, singing saw, and steel guitar,
and I has the sad.

I'll see you in my dreams.

Click the link below to re-live the magic:
Superchief, with Pops Bayless and Mysterious John

Technical bs

2 big components on the front page of my main website have bitten the dust:  Weatherpixie and Lycos' htmlgear.  So, my cute little redheaded weathergirl is gone daddy done, along with TEN YEARS worth of entries in my guestbook.  I'm more than slightly disappointed.  The weatherpixie (Tamsin) had some kind of catastrophic systems crash, so I am sympathetic to that.  But Lycos...ugh.  Why?  With almost no warning (2 months) and no email warnings whatsoever.  Thanks so much.

So, I have resorted to a cheesy Yahoo weather badge, and also a hoaky Yahoo guestbook.  (Yes, I like randomly showing the weather on my page.  Don't hate.)  I have spared everyone the temptation of adding other pointless widgets like interactive monkeys and virtual hedgehogs.  I toyed with the idea for about 9 seconds, only because I am not the picture of class and maturity that you might imagine.

Also, my site counter randomly decided to stop working at some point in the last 3 years.  So even though I can see that over 22,150 visitors have graced the index page of my website over the years, the little counter at the bottom shows a bunch of zeros.  Still waiting on an answer to that one from the Yahoo folks, who are happy as clams to deduct $13 from me every month for my hosting and domains.

I am trying to integrate some of the pages of my blog to my main website.  Is that bad?  Should I not muddy the waters?  I know that my website is so old (2001) that I should probably just take it down and renovate the whole thing, but at this point, it has grown to be such a monster that it would require too much time to do in a way that I'd like.  It's probably stale-looking, by today's standards (I don't care).  I don't even know what's current anymore, except that everyone has blogs and clouded photo journals now.