Funky Town, Playa (Just Kidding)
Karaoke Etc.
Alex and her friends have been trying to go to this karaoke place for weeks. Something always happens like boys, other friends, family or bad hair. But, last night at 5pm, Alex said, ‘We’re going!” At 6:15, she said, ‘We aren’t going anymore.” At 7:00pm, she stated “We’re SO going!!” Then she went over to her dad’s for a couple of hours, called to say she changed her mind and they were staying in. At 9:05, she came over, all dressed up and announced that not only were we going, we were going NOW.
The karaoke SLASH pizza joint was almost empty but for the people that worked there, the woman (who sang a lot of Melissa Etheridge*) with her two girls (Who sang a lot of obscure-to-me Disney music from Mulan and that native American one with the river in it) that runs the karaoke machine on Saturday nights, and a lady who watched her daughter sing Don Quixote three times with such admiration that it makes me really wonder what’s wrong with me. If Alex sang Don Quixote more than once I think I might have ripped the microphone out of her hands. I think even once would have been too many times. The screaming and AyAyAying at the end……I prefer Like A Virgin. To counteract all the Don Quixote and angry lesbian songs in the air, Alex and I sang Love Will Keep Us Together and I tried to eat the microphone.
There is so much more I could say about Saturday night and the odd peoples that populate that pizza place, but instead let me just say that we’ll be going back at our earliest opening. It was that much fun.
Also, our new place came with these:
And I brought one of my own:
And there is a lawn of sorts:
*Isn’t it weird that the entire staff and the lady running the machine were all in the singing rotation? It just seemed like, as we were running out of time and there was no more room on the list for new songs to be added, that they would have let the paying customers have more turns. Or is that wrong? Who am I to get in the way of more Don Quixote?
¿Dónde están los novios de las calcetines?
Joe asks, “Where are the matches to these socks?”
“In a box. Somewhere.” I say.
Dinner With Grace
Grace told me a few weeks ago she was going to David Sedaris and I begged and pleaded to go with her. Mr. Sedaris was going to be appearing in Santa Barbara with the wonderful Sarah Vowell and it was all just too much to bear: Grace, Sedaris, Vowell, all within my grasp only a hop skip and a jump away. The wonderful woman that she is, Grace graciously (get it??) allowed Joe and I to come along. Eden was there as was her friend Jennifer. Also, Grace’s daughter, Jenn, and her boyfriend, who’s name I’ve forgotten. (That’s how great of a friend I am. Invite me again!)
Dinner was lovely. There was wine.
Sedaris and Vowell were hysterical but dinner was better.
New/Old, Whatever. Just Get Me Some Coffee.
In case you were wondering, downsizing from a huge house to one half as big sucks. Now you know. You’re welcome.
Here is the old entry way:
And here is the new entry:
Tiny new living room:
Here is the old kitchen:
And the new one:
I’m going to miss our old huge bathroom. But being a few blocks away from where my ex lives saves everyone a huge amount of time and gas. We’re also close to their schools. As soon as I find my makeup, the iron, my comfortable shoes, the coffeemaker and my anti-psychotic medication, things are going to be fine.
More Links Sans Segues
Joe got glasses! He looks hot. Now we truly can be Ma and Pa Crawford.
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Chuck sports a Bonpron. Find out how to get your own. Join!
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When I was young, I had this kit. Spirograph was my kind of ‘game’ because I could do it alone and it allowed me to be inside my head. I have tons of fun OCD tendencies. Counting and drawing lines are right up there at the top of the list of things that I can’t help doing. I keep drawing shapes and color combinations because I think they would make spectacular patterns for stuff. And because they make me happy.
More Spiro fun here and here.
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Yes, Twitter can be lots of fun. But everything is even more fun with a cat involved. Sockington is my new favorite contact.
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Schmutize wrote a poem called Droopy-boobed Lady, Let’s Go Get Some Bacon-wrapped Goat Cheese Together. If you ever wondered what it’s like to have your brain go wacky while on medication withdrawal, this is it.
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Do you have a fantasy life? Mine is never as good as these.
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Dutch & Wood’s story of going to Greece is wonderful and worth the read.
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Also good: The Importance of Gnats by Carbon Press. It will make you miss your Grandparents something fierce.
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Joe and I watched every available episode of Making Fiends the other day. Those 3 hours were well spent. Great style and story.
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It’s pretty obvious to everyone in this house that my thyroid medication has stopped working. I need to go to the specialist. I didn’t go and have kept putting it off for a variety of reasons, mostly because I feel too busy trying to move. But, in actuality, I’m sitting on the couch crying about how much there is to do and not really doing it. So, I’d say that it might be time to try something new.
Poser
Tony is at a really fun age right now. You say, ‘Tony, get over there and let me test the light.’ And this is what you get:
I love his sister’s face in some of those. I think she was wondering how far away she could get and how fast.
The Fantastic Four
Again and Again and Again
Look who’s back:
Domestic Skills
I’m working on aprons that turn into bonnets.
I know. It’s awesome. They are convertible.
Rickrack is one of the best things ever invented.
So, no. I haven’t sewn on the buttons yet. But I will. And when I do, boy howdy.
With the Bonnet
You know your husband loves you when he is willing to let you take this picture and then post it to your blog. Susan, this is for you in case you could use a smile.
16 Year Old Girls
When Alex was about 4, she would beg to wear her pink nightie-dress every single night. It didn’t matter if it was dirty or torn or missing – if she wasn’t wearing it, she would dissolve into a mess of tears. You see, with it on, she became a princess and there was nothing she loved more than being a princess.
On a Saturday night, we’d put her hair up in curlers for church the next day, me on the couch, her on my lap watching The Little Mermaid or some other type of Disney marketing, and she’d sing along and I’d keep rolling up swatches of hair and smiling. Because, there isn’t anything much better than hearing your daughter sing Part of Your World with her little German-accent lisp and wavering, slightly off-key voice. And when I was done she’d twirl. Twirl and twirl and twirl, until she was exhausted and dropped into a heap on the floor, legs tucked under and bum in the air.
Her incredible energy burst right before bed was a little alarming sometimes. She’d suddenly start talking and tell me all about the horse she would have when she was big and the dress she’d be wearing and the places they’d go visit and where the magic happened, her words quickly tumbling over each other in their effort to get out as fast as possible before she would be forced to stop, and maybe forget, and fall asleep.
I’d pick her up and hold her, her breathing deep and even, her bottom lip jutting out just a tiny bit, her skin so smooth and warm, my heart would nearly burst and I’d think of how when she was born I loved her so much and didn’t think I could love her any more than I had at that moment. But I did. I did. I loved her more and more all the time and it seemed impossible but it was true. I’d use my finger to push her hair off her forehead and kiss her just one more time and one more time again before putting her in her bed and ‘cover-her-unders’ as she’d say if she were awake.
Last night, as I drove her back to her dad’s to do homework and get ready for bed, she turned on the radio and started singing, badly on purpose, to whatever song happened to be on. She was in a super silly mood, her teen hormones racing though her blood creating a near manic version of herself. Her voice cracking and flat, her silly smile and sparkling eyes barely keeping back the giggles that were just about to break free of the dam and come tumbling out, uncontrollably, all over the car. And she kept looking in my direction while I drove, just under the speed limit to prolong the amount of time we had together, waiting for me to look at her at every available interval, because this performance, it was for me. She’d sing too fast, getting faster and faster until she was an entire verse ahead of what was actually playing, sounding like an off-tune robot and it was funny. I laughed and laughed but inside, my heart grew even larger because just an hour before when we were outside on the lawn and I was taking her photo, I loved her so very, very much and it didn’t seem possible to love her any more than I did at that moment, but I did. Just right then, I did love her even more again.
