Friday, February 24, 2006

Entrance music: "Whiter Shade of Pale" by Procol Harum.

One of my favorite songs of all time. Easily.

I've never understood the mom and kids in a coffee shop set-up. I'm not suggesting all mothers should stay at home and keep the children away from insensitive people like myself. I just don't get this scenario: mom brings in two cute little girls, both under 4 it would appear. They take over four or five tables in an already table-short area. Mom orders a drink and then starts setting out an impressive landscape of toys and books across some of the annexed tables. The part that bothers me some--and would drive me bonkers as the coffee shop owner--is when the mom pulls out a large lunch spread for her and the kiddies to enjoy. There are little tupperware bowls and flower-shaped plates and cute plastic orange spoons for the girls. And mom just keeps pulling out more things for lunch.

I don't get it.

True statements:
1. I am not a mom
2. I don't know what it's like to have/raise children
3. Young children can be loud
4. The patience of mothers is unrivaled and deserves more gold and silver than the world can produce

I really try to eat healthily. (is that a word?) It costs a lot more but feels like a worthy investment of my money. As I was buying some stuff in the "healthy living" section of a certain shopping center, I realized the end of the "healthy living" section ran directly into the pet food section. Right next to the gluten-free breakfast bars was a row of Alpo.

I don't think that is an accident.

I've mentioned before my love for Stephin Merrit's songs. I was listening to yet another of his projects, The Gothic Archies, and was reminded of this dark song: "The Tiny Goat." Unlike his other vaudevillian and quirky love songs, this is dark! Let this encourage you today:

The tiny goat wanted a birthday party
And sent out invitations to its friends
But when the day came none of them remembered
So it put out its eyes with fountain pens
The world is cruel and the moon remote
Suicide was not an option for the tiny goat

The tiny goat was very, very ugly
And like all ugly things it fell in love
When twenty years of waiting turned to nothing
It swallowed lye and lay down on the stove
When the world bites, there's no antidote
Who would want to spend forever with a tiny goat?

The world's a leech crawling down one's throat
One would rather be a tick than be a tiny goat


Wednesday, February 22, 2006

How does one gauge whether life is becoming too busy? What is a reliable scale for assessing one's "over-committed" level? Is there an objective meter to measure the amount of margin someone does or doesn't have?

I just turned down a free ticket to see Coldplay tonight. Free.

As a way of further punishing myself for my too-full life, I invite comments ranging from "You idiot!" to "Oh if only you weren't doing this..."

Exit music: "Hello Hammerheads" by Caribou.


Tuesday, February 21, 2006

Currently playing: "I Break Horses" by Smog.

I was just telling c@it I've never been ice skating. I played some roller hockey back in the day with Amish Aaron, but never been on ice. I was thinking that I might need to try it--I desperately need to get outside. The winter is driving me crazy!! I hate being cold and so I don't go outside more than I need to--but then I hate not being outside...


Had Indian food with @m today. It was an obscene amount of food and my body has been thanking me all day.

The post at Shake Your Fist is up. For fans of foreign languages, check out the five mp3s.

Exit music: "Ex-supermodel" by Guided by Voices.


Monday, February 20, 2006

I'm obsessed with the Olympics. I realized tonight that I've been watching too much. I found myself explaining to my roommate the difference between the the Ice Dancing events. "Well you see, the Compulsory Dance is..."

Please don't stop reading my blog because of that.

I still like the skeleton or large hill ski jumping. Those more masculine, you-might-die events.

Weddings are strange. Receptions are even stranger. I went to one of each this weekend and that's enough for a while.

Another new post over at Shake Your Fist on Tuesday or Wednesday.

Leave you with a fascinating passage from a book I'm reading called On Love by Alain de Botton:

When we look at someone from a position of unrequited love and imagine the pleasures that being in heaven with them might bring us, we are prone to overlook one important danger: how soon their attractions might pale if they began to love us back. We fall in love because we long to escape from ourselves with someone as beautiful, intelligent and witty as we are ugly, stupid and dull. But what if such a perfect being should one day turn around and decide they will love us back? We can only be somewhat shocked–how can they be as wonderful as we had hoped when they have the bad taste to approve of someone like us? If, in order to love, we must believe that the beloved surpasses us in some way, does not a cruel paradox emerge when they return that love? We are led to ask, "If s/he really is so wonderful, how is it possible that s/he could love someone like me?"

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