Skipping past Writober and Nanoblomo . . ? Shit, I dunno. I'm as bored as you are.
Wednesday, February 28, 2007
Let’s NOT Dwell on the “Stale Bread” Symbolism
Continuing this blog’s momentum-less track record, I spent the weekend mostly away from the Internets. Which was partially due to our connection at home being intermittent, and Patricia’s warning that her host’s server was going to be down.
Mia had another one of those pesky “fever viruses” starting Saturday afternoon and lasting through Sunday, so she had to stay “home” from school yesterday. Meaning, she was at work with one of us for most of the day. Blah, blah, blah. Man, I’m so bored writing about my life. Or what I THINK, for that matter, but that won’t stop me from typing it out . . . with HTML code to make it into a bulleted list:
- We’d promised to take Mia to the lake to feed the ducks Sunday morning, in spite of the approaching rain and her fever. So, after watching the Weather Channel to help estimate the approximate arrival of the rain and giving Mia some Children’s Motrin to transform her back to her hyperactive self, we went to the lake. To feed the ducks. Or the aggressive terns that flock there, as it turned out. The threat of rain kept away about 90% of the usual early-spring lake-walking crowd, so we were really the only bread-hurling game in town. The terns were pretty insistent, so we were trying to distract them away from the nice, patient ducks by throwing ENTIRE SLICES of half-stale bread like Frisbees. I was watching a cluster of terns having a midair fight over a slice of bread when I walked into a park bench and full-on banged my shin. Hard.
- There was a replay of the latest “Grey’s Anatomy” on Saturday evening (I think). I told Michelle that they were gonna blow a chance of having me start watching their show again by NOT killing off Meredith. Which you KNEW they weren’t gonna do. Because if she AND her mom died in the same episode, they’d have to call the show “Anatomy.” And would probably be more accurate.
- After “Heroes” last night was the premier of “The Black Donnellys.” Y’know, considering it was hatched by the creative teams behind Crash and Million Dollar Baby, you couldn’t get me LESS interested in watching it. Unless the troubled Irish kids somehow formed a NASCAR team in their quest for glory.
- I’ve been so put-off about recent Oscar presentations, with all the “who’s wearing what?” bullshit. And it’s not like I’ve seen any of the movies. So I pretty much tuned out this year, although I did see Jennifer Hudson win her award. And President-Elect (2000) Al Gore presenting with Leo. From what I gather, though, the show went until some godless hour (when I would’ve been awake anyway), so I’m glad I didn’t sit through it. I guess.
- How interesting does cabaret-punk sound to you? How about sleazy cabaret-punk? I’d been skeptical that the Dresden Dolls would work out, but they’ve really won me over in the same way the Arcade Fire did. And not just because Amanda Palmer recreated this Bauhaus album cover for a magazine article. Or because the last line of their album is, “You motherfuckers you’ll sing someday.”