Thursday, March 31, 2011

slow burn

So if you hate to read what random people like me have to say about music they like, please just skip this post. If, on the other hand, you have liked any of the music I have posted through the months, please indulge the following love fest.

Sigh. The first time I heard of Bob Schneider was when his song 40 Dogs hit the radio about two years ago. I liked the song, but didn't take too much notice. My husband Dan on the other hand liked the song so much that he played it on repeat until I threatened to kill him if he played it again. Like, we had an actual fight about it.

Since that time I had listened to the whole record (Lovely Creatures) that included 40 Dogs, but again didn't really feel it right away.

But. BUT. When his new single from his upcoming record hit my favorite radio station and OH MY GAWD. Something just clicked and I have turned into some kind of god damn adolescent Bob Schneider groupie.

The fact that he is not hard on the eyes at all doesn't hurt anything. If I had seen this photo when it was taken several years ago I might have hit the road to Austin TX and never even met Dan... good thing I didn't, huh?

(Just an aside -- I may or may not have named my son after this TV show. It is that embedded in my psyche from childhood.)

Oh Dear Lord. Bob and a trumpet. Two of my favorite things. I need to go outside and cool off now.

Tuesday, March 29, 2011

maybe he'll be forced into retirement

Muzak has been bought out by Mood Media, which apparently now has a monopoly over the elevator music industry. This is most likely notable to almost no one, but it caught my attention because Muzak has been my bio-dad's employer for most of my life. This in and of itself is merely mildly amusing.

The thing is -- every time he and I went anywhere together (all of twice a year or so between 1982 and 1989 approximately) he had to take time out of our time and go talk to the restaurant manager or whoever and do his Muzak sales pitch. Every. Freaking. Time. To this day I hate salesmen.

Monday, March 28, 2011

be your own projector

Living Room from Mr.Beam on Vimeo.

We [they] created a unique physical 3D video-mapping experience by turning a white living room into a spacious 360° projection area.

This technique allowed us [them] to take control of all colors, patterns and textures of the furniture, wallpapers and carpet. All done with 2 projectors.

Music: Free the Robots - Jazzhole

Friday, March 25, 2011

Let the Light In

I have been listening to this song over and over again today.

The Wicked Witch and the Tin Man hook up in Cleveland and let their hair down and their hearts out. Fuckin' love it.

And Bob Schneider is teh hotness. More here.

Wednesday, March 23, 2011

you wouldn't even know I was there

I have no real understanding of the rules and regulations regarding reincarnation. I am vaguely aware that some cultures believe that not only can you come back, but that you may come back as another species.

I think I would very much like to be a bug. Nothing gross like a cockroach. Nothing so troublesome as an ant (especially not an ant inside someone's house - to be smashed or poisoned). Nothing as majestic as a dragonfly. Surely I am nowhere near worthy of being a dragonfly.


Maybe something useful. Something that eats real pests. Yes. That would be good. And small. I want to fit into the tiniest of spaces. To disappear by virtue of my size. Surrounded by green light and leaves. Heaven.


No. Lower still. Not so flashy. Down in the dirt, with the green up above. Can you smell it now? That lovely wet dirt smell? So nice. Yes, that's it...

roly poly


What I was thinking about while walking around the garden center and lusting after the trees. I was good and just bought one grape vine.

Monday, March 21, 2011

yoga quotes

Every time I go to yoga the teacher ends up saying something that makes me think I have to remember that. But I hardly ever do. Anyway, there's something about a yoga class that makes odd things come out of people's mouths. For example:

Exhale with commitment.

We so rarely relax, even in bed. The bed often takes the body somewhere else.

Ass-ending colon (ascending colon)

Be aware of the spot on your head that is touching the floor. Be there.

Do you go to yoga classes? Have any weird yoga-isms to add?

Friday, March 18, 2011

Larry Crowne

I need to see this movie. Oh yes, yes I do.

Thursday, March 17, 2011

Van Morrison - Caravan

One of my favorites of Van's.

Happy St. Pat's. *Pinch*

And the caravan is painted red and white
That means everyone stays overnight

Wednesday, March 16, 2011


A new favorite. This girl is THE SHIT.

Tuesday, March 15, 2011

the forest and the trees

Is this a safe place to talk about our daughters?
I’ve begun to worry, really worry about mine. She is what educational professionals diplomatically call moderately mildly MR (MR = mentally retarded – they don’t actually say the words). And while most 14 year olds don’t necessarily have the best life skills (isn’t that what you call it when a person can feed and clean themselves and take care of their living space and so forth?) hers are downright troublesome at times.
I find myself wondering… Will she be able to keep a job? Will she be able to live on her own? WILL SHE EVER WASH HER HANDS, BRUSH HER HAIR, BRUSH HER TEETH, GET DRESSED, PUT HER LAUNDRY AWAY WITHOUT ME TELLING HER TO SEVERAL TIMES??? What if she gets pregnant? What then?
I can accept the fact that I will most likely support her financially for the rest of my life. But what scares me is this: what happens after I’m gone?
I was 18 when I got pregnant, 19 when she was born. Her father and I struggled and made mistakes and spent the first 10 years of her life growing up. And if I am honest, really honest, I have spent some time resenting her. It’s not her fault she was born, it’s mine. What fucking right to I have to resent her? But I have resented my lack of freedom, my lack of money, my lack of quiet and alone. And resenting lives on a sliding scale with loving. You cannot show someone your love for them (even though the love is there) when you are too busy resenting them.
I am tired and the journey is so far from over. I need to remember to shore up. I need my yoga and my quiet time to maintain my patience with her. I need to take care of me and her. I need her to feel my love for her maybe more than she does sometimes now. I need to worry less and do more.

Friday, March 11, 2011

she said she is sad

I wrote to Lori and she wrote back. She wrote a lot about whether she’s crazy, or must seem to be, and that made me think of that line… the lady doth protest too much.

She said that the jury found her sane because she can sometimes be a real bitch, and that combined with the charges makes her easy to hate. See how smart she (still) is?

Part of what she talked about broke my heart more than a little. She wrote about The Wizard of Oz, and how she finds some comfort in that story. The twister picks Dorothy up and throws her asunder. She is afraid for herself and for Toto but takes a journey and then is returned home as if she was never gone. Lori said that every morning when she wakes up, before she opens her eyes, she wishes – imagines – that this morning she is in her bed at home and everyone and everything is back to normal. But that morning hasn’t come yet.

She said she believes we are all puppets. And that for a period of a couple weeks before her arrest she was witness to impossible miracles and that God was talking to her through various means and she was given tasks to complete in secret. A mission.

Reading all these things, I could still sense her voice, her self. And she didn’t read crazy. But now that I try to retell it, well, I just don’t know what to say.


Wednesday, March 9, 2011

Sarah Jaffe - Clementine

It amazes me how little effort she seems to put into getting such a strong voice out of her self.

Tuesday, March 8, 2011


I'm not sure I understand what this movie is really about, but I'll watch anything Morgan Spurlock works on.

Monday, March 7, 2011

sur la table

Among the many many pieces of second hand furniture in my house is a table that my mom picked up about 10 years ago at a used furniture place in Lake Elsinore. She didn't need the table, but she wanted the parsons chairs that came with it. She's still using those chairs, too.

Anyway, this table has been driving me bananas because the top that was on it is just wretched. The legs and apron (or is it skirt?) are real nice solid pine, but the top was some kind of manufactured wood-like substance with a crackled paint treatment of some kind. It was fine for the first couple years. It's a good size and it certainly served its purpose and wasn't necessarily the ugliest piece of furniture I had ever owned. But after a certain someone who shall remain nameless, and has since passed away, moved in with us and started washing off the table by running a too-wet cloth across the planks instead of long-ways (yes I am crazy, why?) the moisture started to dissolve the fake-ass crappy wood. You can't tell in that picture, I'm sure, but trust me. Eventually (maybe after dozens of years) that entire table top would have eroded into nothingness one tiny particle at a time.

After months and years of discussion about what kind of wood, whether to make it a little bigger, what kind of finish, ad nauseum, we finally picked up some poplar boards and tung oil on Saturday. Dan took to sanding and sawing and screwing and whatever it is boys do with their toys. Tools, I mean tools.

The color isn't an exact match, but it's pretty good. And we could have stripped the legs and given them a new finish (still could). But I was sincerely trying to keep this process as simple as possible.

At press time, the top still isn't attached, but you get the idea. I won't know what to do with myself now with no hideous table top to bitch and moan about anymore. I'll have to find something else to bitch about I guess. :)

Saturday, March 5, 2011

The Spring. She is here.

California grown strawberries from the stand down the street. Mmmmmm...

Friday, March 4, 2011

Slippin and Slidin

Thursday, March 3, 2011

time to plan better

I've been all quiet and shut down. At home. On the blog.

Maybe it's time to go all Charlie Sheen on my own ass, blink and heal myself. Duh. Winning.

I don't like being depressed (I don't think) so why do I hunker down and wallow in it? Maybe that's the only choice. Riding it out.


So Sheen's new buzzword is plan better, which tickles me because it reminds me of a line that is used repeatedly in Meet the Robinsons and referenced often in my house:

I'm just not sure how well this plan was thought through.

I am so not typical

The bit about the bank account surprised me.

Amos Lee - Learned a Lot

I may be more than a little obsessed with this record these days.