Friday, July 30, 2004

Last Friday, KB, Bret, Todd, Rachel and Rachel's brood boarded the Amtrek with 14 bikes and four BOB Trailers, heading north to the Oregon coast. I caugth them at the train station with minutes to spare -- that is until we all realized that their train was delayed by three hours. Which was the perfect amount of time to go and catch a beer at Gus's. Here's Todd with the bikes and gear ready to board the train.
Todd and the Bikes
Originally uploaded by emdot.

I got my flickr account months ago and on it I sat. Until today. And I don't know what it was, but today I decided to do something with it. The only problem is that I don't really have any recent pics, much less photos I haven't shared here already. So I uploaded 18 random, slightly recent pics with the hopes of loading more. Check it out and join, too. I want to start a SLO Town group (Cracks, you reading? MsCapriKel? It'd be fun.). Or a Big Green Monster group (you know who you are). A cousins group (My beautiful cousins. God I love them.). Et cet.
This picture is like "making the best of it after Live Oak despite all obstacles." I miss you Camp Happy Face.
Hidden yellow balloon
Originally uploaded by karlcow.
prairie clouds

kate's clouds kate's clouds

Kate lives on the Saskatchewan prairie. Kate's got no time for people who complain about the flatness of her beloved homeland. Kate says the mountains are fine enough, but they don't let her see the sky. Yesterday the sky tried to poke through the ceiling and Kate took pictures.

» Kate's clouds at XOXOETC

Thursday, July 29, 2004

nicely put

I don't want to claim that God is on our side. As Abraham Lincoln told us, I want to pray humbly that we are on God's side. And whatever our faith, one belief should bind us all: The measure of our character is our willingness to give of ourselves for others and for our country. — John Kerry

» Text for JK speech
ordinary and beautiful

If something is not beautiful, it is probably not true. — John Keats

If you love the sacred and despise the ordinary, you are still bobbing in the ocean of delusion. — Lin-Chi

The Chit. The Chat. Yesterday I had two drop-by visitors (separately): Diana and Rem. So nice to just sit and chat. I didn't get a thing done yesterday. But I got to have great chats with friends. And that's something.

Wednesday, July 28, 2004

sara's blog

I've mentioned Sara here before. And now I'm to tell you Miss S has a web blog. Sara and I are former housemates at the House of All Houses, the Big Green Monster. So, SLO Town, here's another one. Not quite like the other one.

» Wonderful Wee Words
5 posts, pace yourselves

Okay friends, I just posted a whole hell of a lot more than I thought I was going to (or even thought had in me.). So don't give up if you come here in a couple of days and there is still the same post at the top. Scroll down. There's more. I promise. Off to Boo Boos.

edited to add,
» Harold and Kumar Go To White Castle.
» Salon reviews Garden State.
» Salon interviews Zach Braff.

Movies that have not come to my area yet (rzzl frzzl and there's a rant for a later date), but that I want to see: Saved. Before Sunset. Coffee and Cigarettes. Garden State. Granted Garden State doesn't open until tomorrow, but you figure it won't hit the SLO Town shore for another six weeks. Movie that I let leave without seeing and now I am kicking myself and rzzl-frzzling: Napoleon Dynomite. The Weeping Camel.

Jumping on my bike now, heading to Boo Boos to buy the latest Badly Drawn Boy and Death Cab for Cutie. BTW, if you are looking for good tunes, check out the "KEXP Inspired" playlist on iTunes. It's enough to make you want to move to Seattle.
Listening to

Brett Dennen. Death Cab for Cutie. Lambchop. Aqualung. Andrew Bird. Fresh Air archived shows.

Political interviews: Stephen Moore, President of Club for Growth

Political interviews: Stephen Flynn, America the Vulnerable
Flynn talks about US weaknesses when it comes to terrorist vulnerability. Very eye opening.

A comic interview: Patton Oswalt
Oswalt got booed off the stage by the Left and the Right. The guy can't win, but he's funny as hell and interesting to boot. Stand up comedian, writer for Conan and on some TV show I'd never heard of. I would definitely buy his CD. (He's got a bit of a Bill Hicks bent and says that Hicks was one of his mentors)

Entertainment interviews: Matt Damon
The Matt Damon interview swayed me into seeing The Bourne Supremacy which was a jaw-clenching, eye-squeezing, heart-palpitating good time. Now I have to rent Identity, to get caught up.
Lean to the Left, Lean to the Right, Stand up, Sit down, Fight Fight Fight

"I think Howard Dean should take his tax-hiking, government-expanding, latte-drinking, sushi-eating, Volvo-driving, New York Times-reading, body-piercing, Hollywood-loving, left-wing freak show back to Vermont, where it belongs!"*

Not sure how to spot the liberals among ye? Now you know! So keep your eyes open and be alert! The latte-drinkers and sushi-eaters MUST. BE. STOPPED.

*The above was used The Club for Growth, a Republican PAC that helps elect Reagonomic-type-only Republicans to office (let's call these Trickle Down Republicans. TDR.).

The Club for Growth's president, Stephen Moore, was interviewed by Terry Gross on July 15th. I liked this interview for several reasons.
  • It showed Terry very rationally interviewing someone from the Right -- great contrast for how Bill O'Reilly would like to portray Gross after she interviewed him last year.
  • Stephen Moore was very friendly as well. It was nice to hear two people who probably didn't agree with each other have such a nice conversation. More of these please.
  • I get to understand a little bit more about where the Republicans are coming from -- both in their goals as well as they way the incorrectly paint the so-called "left."
Points Gross makes that Moore has to concede:
  1. Conservatives love to bash Hollywood as a liberal bastion exploiting sex and violence. Yet...
  2. Hollywood is the one of our country's best examples of a Capitalist Success Story (so shouldn't the right love that?)
  3. The successful politicians to come out of Hollywood have all been Republicans (thinking Reagan, Eastwood, Shwartzenegger, and let's not forget Sonny Bono)
  4. Really, the violence is not viewed as negatively as the sex. (This makes no sense to me at all).
Finally, the thing that is really sticking in my craw is this creation of the Big Bad Elite that all truly good conservatives should be afraid of. And when the right uses the word Elite they are specifically talking about professors and people with talking professions, as if talking professions are the big power-mongers in our country. What I want to know is where does money come in and when did talking become more powerful than money? How is a college professor more powerful than someone who manages a hedge fund?
Die Hards Questioning Their Vote?

So far I know at least 5 diehard Republicans who don't feel comfortable giving their vote to Bush. These people are staunch die-hards. Who've only voted Republican. Who consider Reagen a demi-god. These are people who give money to their candidates. These are people who have fought in WWII. Korea.

Do you think this has to do with their experience in war themselves? I see all of these people as pro-defense. But I also see these people who know what the horror of war is. What it's like to be there in the country that is getting bombed. The complete destruction of infrastructure, community, humanity, family.

I can imagine the betrayal they must have felt. Maybe it came on slowly, not wanting to believe it at first. But slowly coming to the realization....
Spin Legs

Maybe Michael Moore's strength is in being so obnoxious the right can finally understand how the left feels about Rush, Hannity, and O'Reilly?

I'm noticing a trend for people to be more willing to find the middle ground. Not in compromising their ideals or beliefs, but in realizing that the truth might be in the middle (to quote Bret).

Maybe we have become acclimated to the spin cycle, in the same way that you get your sea legs or that flight attendants can still handle those meal trays in the midst of turbulence.

We've found our spin legs.

Monday, July 26, 2004

i lub scrubs

Okay, cynical me is thinking that this is just a publicity stunt. Yet, I share the link anyway. Zach Braff (which is a tongue twister: say it five times fast) has a blog, soft-peddling his new movie "Garden State." Meanwhile, hello, Zach Braff. You gotta love him. So you gotta check it out.

» The blog of Zach Braff

Sunday, July 25, 2004

oh and can i just say?

I think my favorite character in Donnie Darko is his dad. His dad is just cool. I love his goofiness and the way he is generally Not Uptight.
don't miss

I love Catherine Jamieson's Daily Photos. I liked today's, but when I clicked on "previous" for yesterday's it made me snicker outloud (don't miss the title). Seajay's little sly visual winks are always worthwhile.

Show of hands for who is excited about the Director's Cut of Donnie Darko. Everyone? Everyone? Just me? No matter, Salon published "Everything you were afraid to ask about Donnie Darko." Well thank god! Maybe they'll print cliff notes for Lost Highway and Mulholland Drive soon.

And hello, yes, you need a Salon subscription. Not only to read the article. Just in general. Come on. Cough up.


(I've been writing copy for plastic surgery web sites).

Emdot: (Incredulously) I bet I've looked at 300 breasts for this project. Maybe 500.
Tom: I've still got you beat. On my computer alone.

Which brings me to my next subject, one of the latest from Merlin at

Five ways to save our kids from online porn:
1.) Ban homonyms and double entendres
2.) Require all porn sites be written in Esperanto
3.) Teach children that Jesus hates their dirty erections
4.) Nothing kills idle curiosity like chemical mace
5.) Trade family’s PC for equivalent value in strident religious tracts

Saturday, July 24, 2004

thinking of allison

This morning NPR had a really special segment on death and hospice. I had tears at the end of listening to it. The hospice worker featured said he got into hospice because he saw so many people dying alone in hospitals. Hospitals, he said, are the worst place to die.

And this just broke my heart. I thought of little Allison in her hospital bed. She was sick for only one month. Nobody thought she was going to die -- despite the terrible diagnosis. Despite the statistics. She was Allison! She was young and vibrant and healthy and, above all else, resilient.

And yet my friend died at the age of 30. In a hospital bed. And this breaks my heart.

And slowly, slowly I think I do come to terms with death. I feel like the last two years have been filled with lessons on it. As if Life is prepping me for the inevitable. (I don't mean that as morbidly as it sounds). Last month I decried it "illegal." A non-option. This month I think I see it as less foreboding. Less cumbersome.

Why am I talking about this on a beautiful Saturday?

Back to work! (I'm working today.)
hodge podge

The Cracks. Woodencracker never fails to make me smile. His latest SLO Town photos are very sky related. Maybe things are looking up? Or maybe the sky's the limit? This photo makes it look as if the sky's been creased and then lazily unfolded. This one makes me think of prayer flags. All I know is that I'm glad he's posting again. And Cracks, six-six? Really? I woulda thought more like six-four-ish. But then, whenever I run into the Cracker he's most usually sitting down infront of Starbucks or Uptown. And/or surrounded by women. This guy is a girl's guy (as opposed to lady's man?) by all accounts. Tell me if I'm wrong.

Snaggly Teeth. You know, it's the little things that sometimes just crack me up. Like my kitten's (soon to be full-fledged cat) newly developed snaggle teeth. I love snaggle teeth on cats. So, combined with the longest cat tail in recorded history, he may be the cutest cat on earth. Either that or I am totally biased. I'd put up a picture to prove myself right, but unfortunately, though he may be the cutest cat on earth, he is also the least photogenic cat, if not on earth, than surely in San Luis Obispo County.

Coo Coo Ca Choo. And then you've got the walruss whiskers. While Chapes might have the longest tail, Charlotte's got the longest whiskers. They are about three times the length of her face. And they curl. Down. And she bleats like a lamb. And, actually, when I think of it, she's a lot nicer than Chapes. Less assuming. More adventurous. Chapin is turning into a lazy-ass warlord: he'll decide when Charlotte can come inside, sleep on the bed, play with the toys. Absolute power corrupts absolutely. Somebody's got to stop him. And that somebody would be me if I were not hypnotized into giving him whatever he wants every time I look at those little snaggle teeth. So. Damn. Cute.

Backyard BBQ. My neighbors have been hammering away for the last couple of weeks. They have a great backyard filled with persimmon trees, lemon trees and purple irises. And now it seems they have a new-fangled pizza oven slash barbeque. And I got invited to come over this afternoon for its christening charfest. Bringing bread dough or pizza toppings. Can't wait. I love my block. Best block in SLO.

Friday, July 23, 2004

sentences i have loved
from Louis Menand's New Yorker piece, "Bad Comma"
  • ... But it's hard to know how seriously to take her, because her prose is so caffeinated that you can't always separate the sense from the sensibility.

  • There are writers loved for their humor who are not funny people, and writers admired for their eloquence who swallow their words, never look you in the eye, and can't seem to finish a sentence. Wisdom on the page correlates with wisdom in the writer about as frequently as a high batting average correlates with a high I.Q.: they just seem to have very little do do with one another,

  • Readers who meet a writer whose voice they have fallen in love with usually need to make a small adjustment afterward in order to hang on to the infatuation.

  • As a medium, writing is a million times weaker than speech. It's a hieroglyph competing with a symphony.

  • and finally, this insight (regarding how you can't compare speech and writing)...

  • A better basis than speaking for the metaphor of voice in writing is singing. You can't tell if someone can sing or not from the way she talks, and although "natural phrasing" and "from the heart" are prized attributes of song, singing that way requires rehearsal, preparation, and getting in touch with whatever it is inside singers that, by a neural kink or the grace of God, enables them to turn themselves into vessels of musical sound.
Who knew that an article critiquing a book about punctuation could be so filled with pith. I've read it twice. I even got out the yellow highlighter. I might have to send Menand a fan letter.

And speaking of writers and singers — I might be a guest vocalist on my friend's new CD. My friend Stu play Irish music, but his roots are strictly Ozarks and Backwoods. He's from West Virginia and is going to be doing a CD of his original old-timey style songs. And little miss emdot may be putting in a cameo appearance and I am really excited about that.

Lately my singing style has begun to change. I've noticed it and others have commented on it. Truthfully, I like this change. And as with writing, I feel like I might have found my voice. BUT, the old-timey is going to require a much baser sound. And I think to get that authenticity you must check your chops at the door.

Meanwhile, I can't wait. I don't think the project will be "on" for a couple of months. More as it develops.

Thursday, July 22, 2004

some of this was covered yesterday

So, I'm such a silly internet groupie. First there was David Siegel and I thought Dave was it and I would pledge my journal-reading-soon-to-be-called-blog-reading troth to Mr. Neurotic in all his fringe-loving, ski-teaching, breastfeeding-obsessed, no no that should be swiss-women-obsessed, meat-disdaining glory.

How short-sited I was. For now I worship at the alter of Dooce (has it only been a year? not even a year yet? I feel like I've been worshipping her for forever). And I bow respectively in the direction of so many great web creators such as Heather Champ (mirror project and others), Derek Powazek ( and others), Andrea Scher (superhero jewelry), Keri Smith (wish jar journal), and Witold Riedel (eponymously named and cutest pole in town, if your town happens to be NYC). And let's not forget the Australian Sweetheart, Loobylu.

This summer has seen the engagement of Keri Smith (if those blog entries don't bring a tear to your eye then obviously your innards have been under enormous pressure and turned your heart into a lump of coal — keep going for it cuz you'll eventually get a diamond) and the marraige of Heather Champ and Derek Powazek.

Now, that marriage, considering that these are two of the most influential hip web guiding lights that we have seen since, oh, 1998.... and considering that their guest-list consisted of a veritible who's who (aka who's read) of the hip web world (hip meaning, I read them, of course), you would THINK that there would be blog entries a-plenty on this damn wedding.

Silence. The Silence on this wedding was KILLING me. Turns out, Dooce got food poisening and barfed so many times that her fingers could type no story. Caterina? She just didn't even mention it AT ALL. (Rzzl frzzl Caterina.). Yesterday I was finally left to actually google "heather, derek, wedding" to get any sort of buzz at all. (And now I bow at the alter of TENYEARSOFMYLIFE — the same guy that gave CJ a run for her money for Forbes top photoblog. But that guy is awesome. And very tall. And married. Shit. I guess he's not my missing sock.). Anyway. so, I got a little nibble — enough to hold me over for today's glorious posting from Dooce.

And finally I get my fill of All Powazek Wedding / All the Time. And I got introduced to Mighty Girl who makes me think of Stacia. And my fingers started fluttering at the keyboards and I, yet again, wrote too damn much about a small little thing.

I'm nothing if not something to distract you from work, something to click past, or something to clutter up your desktop. My work here is done. Go read Dooce. And then read A Whole Lotta Nothing.

Wednesday, July 21, 2004

a couple ten things

LISTENING iTunes on shuffle. Rufus Wainright keeps coming up and up and up. And I slurp me some Rufus Wainright. He's goofy and summery and forlorny and hopeful.

DOWNLOADING The latest Salon sampler. (You gotta be a member and if you're not my only question is why not? Salon rocks and is worth every penny for the subscription. And it's not expensive. Tell 'em Emdot sent you.)

READING TWoP's Recap of Sunday's gruesome Six Feet Under. The recapper lovingly named this episode "Someone left the crack out in the rain." But really... there are so many jewels in this recap that I nominate it for the Emmy (more deserving the actual show). Let me tell you: that was some painful television, but the recapper is so flippin' funny (and flippant) that he actually made the episode enjoyable. So. If you like long tangentially forking sentences and snarkiness on any level, I highly recommend it.

EATING Frozen Yogurt. First time in a month, so I went a little crazy.

PINCHING Myself. Things are going so well.

FINDING Pictures. The web's most famous couple, Heather and Derek, were married last Saturday and it was a veritable who's who of blog-o-ria invited (no, not emdot; i don't know them) and yet Nobody. Was. Writing. About. It. Argh. The ultimate irony. So I finally gave up and googled "Heather, Derek, Wedding" and phew I found a couple of things. Relief. Thought that the demise of blogging had finally happened.

WRITING Writing a lot. And feeling really good about that.

CONCERNED Mass hysteria is rarely a good thing (unless you are talking about the Beatles hitting the yankee shoreline in 1964). A Women's Wall Street Journal writer seems to be making really big, hysterical assumptions. I really hope that we are bigger than this. Come on people. Just say no to imagined fear. Real fear, okay, and that'll probably keep your hands full. But imagined fear? Good lord. That is what scares me about the state of our country. Read the Salon column.

Read no further if you hate metaphors and/or general reaching.
Someone on a list-serv (same one I mention below) commented that I was complaining about not finding a boyfriend. I'm pretty sure they were just kidding, because (and I've searched all of my recollections; even those in long-time storage) I don't think I ever really do that. Not my style. My problem isn't the ability to get a boyfriend. My problem is that I just don't seem to keep them very well. They're probably somewhere with my damn car keys and all those socks that have found the trap door in the dryer.

So I ask myself, maybe I just like being a single sock.

The problem with being a single sock is that it opens up the doors for many possibilities — and these can really unravel you. As a single sock you can dream of being a rebel and pairing with a total different other single sock. Something obviously different — say a striped one when you are white and athletic. Or you can dream of finding your sole mate. (Just realizing that their are so many good word things to do with that phrase). The sock that perfectly matches with you -- making you a pair.

So... life... living easy in my comfy, sweet smelling (because of the fancy soap) drawer? Not having to get into the smelly sneakers because I'm just a single sock? Life with a wild and crazy sock? And only come out at Mardi Gras or Halloween? Or trying to find that sole soul mate? And what if the sole mate is stained? Worn? Lost all the elastic? Or what if the sole mate is really and totally lost having been thrown in the trash because its owner finally gave up and didn't want to keep it in the drawer anymore or bought some really cool arch supporting new ones? Or or or, it was used as stuffing for a lumpy stuffed animal because that's all that was left?

Maybe I should just go barefoot. ;)

A Raindance for Katherine.
Katherine, basic den mother of all things cool on a list-serv I've been on for nearly seven years (yes, I really am that geeky) has been missing. Not to herself, but to my list-serv. She returned in the nick of time. We were a step away from building a shrine and doing a Katherine raindance led by Timothy in his tutu and Macker in his war paint (for Macker asked himself "How would Jesus Raindance?" and was quite surprised when the skies parted and the very voice of Christ (which turns out sounds much more like Jeff Bridges than James Earl Jones) answered back "Clays and feathers. And don't miss out on the peace pipe. It was my favorite part of being in Utah."

(Correction, while all of the above is true and documented, the last sentence of Christ's words are being contested by the Catholics and the Anglicans and most especially the Jehovah Witnesses who take their Lord's words very seriously. They are accusing some nut case at BYU for tampering with the Dead List-Serv Scrolls. This is under investigation.)

Sunday, July 18, 2004

thoughts that echo and haunt

simply stated by bean:
late night wonderings find me wondering about the nature of my expectations.
  • I hold that folks can and ought to be living to their maximum potential.

  • I find that most are just gliding by not paying attention, some arrogantly so.

I get injured at every crossing of this gap.
i know that i pay pretty close attention, and i feel that this is part of my touch on being in love with life and the world. but the maximum potential one is where i really struggle. i've recently found all sorts of inner dialogue that runs through my head like little rats heading to their favorite alleyway for the big put-down dinner. and so, being the overly earnest emdot (what other kind of emdot could i be?) i will tell you: this is my goal. to be friendly with these thoughts. invite them to a real supper. make my peace and then see where that leads me. what is the maximum potential? you can't help but ponder this with a little smile that just kind of creeps up and lightens the face.

Friday, July 16, 2004


TSM: I have no need to walk the moral highground but I am willing to ride my highhorse.
the people's advocate 

Wackiness: 60/100
Rationality: 46/100
Constructiveness: 58/100
Leadership: 72/100

You are a WECL--Wacky Emotional Constructive Leader. This makes you a people's advocate. You are passionate about your causes, with a good heart and good endeavors. Your personal fire is contagious, and others wish they could be as dedicated to their beliefs as you are.

Your dedication may cause you to miss the boat on life's more slight and trivial activities. You will feel no loss when skipping some inane mixer, but it can be frustrating to others to whom such things are important. While you find it difficult to see other points of view, it may be useful to act as if you do, and play along once in a while.

In any event, you have buckets of charisma and a natural skill for making people open up. Your greatest asset is an ability to make progress while keeping the peace.

» Take the Quiz Here
found on Cosmic Void, another SLO Blog

rant edited 

but i did save this part of it: grrr garrr arggggh feh feh mep mep MEH.
if you missed it, you didn't miss much. but i still want to say: i am not a big fan of WYSIWYG publishing. and as a long-time web professional, i've seen my share of it. it rarely works the way people want it to work. and it is part of the dumbification of the world wide web, ye ol' information highway. i kind of resent that blogger has gone to a wysiwyg interface for thier publishing pages. while i'm sure that benefits a whole host of beginning bloggers, it kind of repels me. i don't want to change to moveable type (because i'm lazy) and who am i to complain? this service is free. still... all the changes lately have gotten under my skin.
ohmigod. i'm old man grumpus.

Wednesday, July 14, 2004


raebean: Although I'd like to thank the French for all they've done for mankind's marching freedom on this Bastille Day, I'm gonna leave that stink for this evening's cheese....

» go read the bean queen
the daily distraction

rock, paper, saddam

Thanks to JDR in DC for sending in Rock, Paper, Saddam. Good for a little Wednesday at work chucklefest. Who knows, maybe you will learn something from Saddam, like new Ro-Sham-Bo strategies. I know I did.

» Rock Paper Saddam

Tuesday, July 13, 2004

What I am doing this summer
  • I'm spending time with my brother who lives in Halifax but will be in California for six weeks

  • I'm working out with my sister

  • I'm building my business

  • I'm designing three sites and redesigning two others

  • I'm keeping a writing schedule

  • I'm doing a weekly "artist's date"

  • I'm heading to the beach

  • I'm catching the sunset

  • I'm camping in Big Sur

  • I'm going to laze an afternoon away in the adirondack chairs in the Big Sur River at the Big Sur River Inn

  • I'm perusing the Henry Miller Library

  • I'm exploring bits of Yosemite

  • I'm having a birthday

  • I'm hanging cool chinese umbrellas over my deck
What are you doing? (inspired by Keri Smith who was inspired by Jen Gray)
Acknowledging fear is not a cause for depression or discouragement. Because we possess such fear, we are also potentially entitled to experience fearlessness. True fearlessness is not the reduction of fear; but going beyond fear. -- Chogyam Trungpa Rinpoche

as read in jp's blog while reading about the beautifully blossoming love.
the most romantic thing

what a great post from the guy who is crossing the united states by bicycle with his brother. you want romantic? he'll give you romantic. and if you want to believe in romance, read the rest of the story. sigh. god love life and love and people and risking and sharing and connecting. all of it.

Monday, July 12, 2004

warning: run-on sentences
originally written to my deafeningly quiet list-serv

Hi whispering nappers,

What are you whispering and napping about? Sh-sh dreams? Or do your fingers have a bad case of laryngitis? Why so shy, wall flowers? Come out come out and bring your chatterbox fingers with you.

Well, just because when I am faced with uncomfortable long, drawn-out silences I get a slow on-coming case of hives and begin a drumming circle all of my own by rapid shallow breathing*, I am choosing to blab in your eyes and tell you a whole lot of nothing.

(* Not really. I actually like those.)

Such as, I really want the latest Television Without Pity t-shirt called "God is in the Tub." You know how you shouldn't bug yer mom when she's had a long day and is soaking in the tub so even though your little brother just burped in your ear you best back away from that bathroom door and leave her alone? That's what this t-shirt is about. Stop bugging God with your mundane trivial boo hoos and let him/her relax in the tub. It's been a long day.

And also I'm soaking my ears in Led Zeppelin. Is there anything more delicious for the ears than Zep? I'm thinking no.

Today I spent hours — HOURS — looking at nipples. Inverted nipples. Long nipples. Wide nipples. Low nipples. Shy nipples. Nipples that have fed entire villages. Nipples that range from Crayola "Flesh" color to dark as a plum.

Okay. Maybe it wasn't hours. But it sure damn well felt like it. And all I have to say is ENOUGH WITH THE NIPPLES ALREADY.

That said, it is amazing the stories people tell you when they find out you are writing stuff about inverted nipples. Especially guys. Guys really want to talk to you about inverted nipples. Girls they used to know, playboys they've seen before (swear to god and hi to ST). The girls have been a little less forth coming, but not totally. I've heard from them, too.

ST told me that I had the dream job of certain fetishists. And I'm sure I do. Too bad I'm not one of them.

Sunday, July 11, 2004


Today I'm working. But in the background I've got Led Zeppelin (The Complete Studio Recordings) and, god — this might be perfection. Especially Physical Grafitti. While I like the rockers, it's Bron-Yr-Aur (not Stomp), Down By the Seaside, and Ten Years Gone that make my lips curl up. Did you know that Rolling Stone called Kashmir "tiresome" when PG first came out? Blasphemy. Stupid Rolling Stone.

Meanwhile, I wonder why no one's written an article or short story about High Schools and the long reign of Stairway to Heaven as The Last Dance. When did it start? Immediately when the album came out? A year later? When did it end? I graduated in 1984 (cough cough) and we were still squarely (meaning solidly) ending the dances with Stairway... weren't we? Or have those all blended into one long slow-dance memory? Those funny last slow dances. The swaying giving way to awkward speeding up for the rock finish. Heh.

So, my class is not having a 20-year reunion. How? How does that happen? Complete apathy? This is just strange because my class (in my memory, anyway) was really close. And our last reunion was surprisingly fun (as reunions go). It was so great to see everybody. And while I would have liked to have gone to 1983's reunion (high school bf was in that class), I just took it for granted that my class would be convening. So strange. My theory is that there are a handful of super successful people who can't be bothered to come. And there are a handful of unsuccessful people who can't bear to come. And the rest of us have a bad case of Apathetica. How strange. Will we be kicking ourselves?

I can't believe I just outed my own age on this blog. I'm such a blabbermouth.

Thursday, July 08, 2004

who's the cutest girl ever?

Sweetdogk, that's who. And you can see for yourself on her blog as she displays previous bridesmaid photos and discusses current bridesmaid anxiety. Lessee bridesmaid anxiety... isn't that redundant? Or is that me? I usually have flat out wedding anxiety and have flubbed many a wedding (and/or friendships that were intact before the wedding; and not "many" — just two. But considering I started out as maid-of-honor in both of them, lemme just give you a little hint: never ask me to be your maid of honor because I will ruin that friendship like a turkey sandwich left out in the hot sun for two days. And not even mean to. Except in my sister's case where I think we actually grew closer. But I was older and wiser by then). Which is why me taking to officiating was such an amazing turn of events.

SDK, on the other hand is your dream bridesmaid. She is prepared, she is concerned about your happiness and all that you want to do for pre-wedding extravaganzas, she is polite, and she is fun. This is probably why she's got two bridesmaid (one where she is the MoH) duties this summer fall. (Well.... isn't the first part of Fall still really just summer? Here on the Central Coast anyway. C'mon: you know it'll be 80. And fires everywhere.). Those brides picked wisely.

» shweeetdogk
wait, one more

You gotta check out Spoon. Specifically their demo "I summon you." Ilovethissong. Okay. Enough with the songs already.

» Spoon

Wednesday, July 07, 2004

nyet nyet soviet

Well, kids. I've got nothing. My brain seems to be only filled with the most trivial and/or the most embarassing drivel. I'll spare you the eye rolls and myself the shame and just not share.

Meanwhile, things are pretty good here on the home front. It was great to be out of town, but I'm glad to be back. I've lived in my home for 9 months and only just now put up pictures (okay — that said, I did put up my paintings right away, but the picture thing seemed to slip through the cracks.). Amazing what a coupla pictures can do for an abode. And/or commode.

So, my life is focused yet the only things I seem to have to share are the most trivial. Like songs that make me salivate (currently very hot for Lambchop and Harry Nilsson). (Regarding Lambchop, extra bonus points for naming those CDs "Aw C'mon" and "No You C'mon" as "c'mon" is I think my very favorite word ever.). I had a huge Retro-Flashback Weekend where I seemed to only play music circa 1988 - 1991. Which was fun and very sing-a-long-y. And totally transported me back to Nostalgia Wonderland. Sigh. Those were some good times.

And speekina the young and naive and hopeful and wonder-eyed (oh God, I said I wasn't going to embarass myself), I can't wait to see Before Sunset. See? Nostalgia Wonderland. I am such a sucker. If this blog was not so traceable to my real name and if the people I know and love didn't read my blog I would totally regale you with stories of ridiculous times steeped in the early 20s. But it is traceable and people I know do read, and I can't embarrass myself that much. I have some pride. While I don't mind getting older, I kind of wish I knew how special the magic that seemed to fill my life at that time was. I would have paid more attention. And maybe would have stood still a little longer.

Meanwhile. Lambchop. Gawd. Love them. What are they like? Kind of like Leonard Cohen and Vic Chestnut marinated in strings and dreamland. They do an awesome cover of "You're going to make it after all" (the theme from the Mary Tyler Moore show), which is good for something, I am sure. Meanwhile, when are The Graves coming out with a new CD? It's about time Greg Olin: get on it! Your fans are hungry. Meanwhile, Curb Your Enthusiasm is my favorite carcrash gawking zone. I hate Larry David as he plays Larry David. Really. I have to basically watch that show with the blanket over my head yelling "no! no! no!" at the TV or "Shut!Up!Larry!" all the while cringing and ohmygoding. I like to finish it up by saying, "Can we watch another?!"

Friday, July 02, 2004

delicious little sound bytes

i could soak myself in the song "desert sunrise" by brett dennen. it's slow, but it grows on me everytime i hear it so that i am only a hair's width away from pushing repeat-repeat-repeat. such sweetness. here's a link to that song and a few others i'm lurving. iTunes needed. c'mon people. you should install iTunes already.

current froths
» desert sunrise brett dennen
» glass, concrete and stone david byrne

recent froths
» i'm a cuckoo belle and sebastian
» naked as we came iron and wine
» maps yeah yeah yeahs
» portland, oregan loretta lynn
» black cab jens lekman

two that aren't on iTunes, but you should find them
» shang a dang dang lambchop
» the bush boys the mammals

get 'em while they're hot

Not sure if you guys heard about the t-shirt campaign called "Designs on the White House" where everybody was invited to send in a t-shirt design to promote the Kerry candidacy and/or promote getting rid of Bush. Winning designs would become t-shirts, all proceeds going to the JK campaign fund.

Hmmm... "J/K" campaign fund? If a right-winger doesn't use that for fodder, they are truly missing a snarkly rich opportunity.

» See all the winners