Sunday, January 30, 2011
Tattoozin'
Sigh. So much great ink on chicks at Grapply Camp. Honestly one night in the Jacuzzi it was like a Modern Art Show, Medium: Skin. I've been hankering after another tattoo since shortly after the last one (and by shortly I mean when the pain wore off and I forgot about it, so much less time than with childbirth! Of course the tattoo session didn't involve something the size of a roast chicken coming out of my vagina.) Anyway, the possibilities are endless but include a wide variety of concepts. Like my children's faces, one on each deltoid. Hehe. Maybe not. I will keep you all updated because I know the suspense is hard to handle.
Wednesday, January 26, 2011
Vital Recital
My elder son had a guitar recital the other day. To my surprise, he kind of rocked. And he has long hair so he really was feeling the part, I think. Very cute overall. Some of the other kids were actually awesome. It was like being at a very small, acne-covered concert. A close personal friend joined me for the event, which occurred in the junior high room of the kids' Montessori school.
The room was of course filled with books, unconventional seating, and peaceful communication. I used "I feel" statements reflexively upon entering ("I feel like sitting over there would make me feel happy. I would like to hear your feelings on our seating arrangement, too."). During the recital my eyes wandered a bit for the less engaging performers. There was a lot to look at---tres buchets, plants, geography posters, and art made of "found objects". In our home we call that art made of "shit I threw away". Anyway, my close personal friend leaned in close at one point and said, "Holy shit. Is it just me, or is that a Willian Shakespeare action figure on top of the bookcase?" Indeed it was. Resplendent in pantaloons, no less. Fancy and thespian, a difficult fashion concept to convey. Adding to the hilarity, which at this point was stifled out of respect for the acne-ridden musicians, was that an Edgar Allen Poe action figure stood at Shakespeare's side. Literary badasses, both of them.
It's no great reflection upon my character that I had to strain mightily not to arrange them obscenely after the concert. In my mind's eye a tableau of the Bard bent over while Poe gave him "the Raven" would have been probably the greatest moment of 2011 thus far.
The room was of course filled with books, unconventional seating, and peaceful communication. I used "I feel" statements reflexively upon entering ("I feel like sitting over there would make me feel happy. I would like to hear your feelings on our seating arrangement, too."). During the recital my eyes wandered a bit for the less engaging performers. There was a lot to look at---tres buchets, plants, geography posters, and art made of "found objects". In our home we call that art made of "shit I threw away". Anyway, my close personal friend leaned in close at one point and said, "Holy shit. Is it just me, or is that a Willian Shakespeare action figure on top of the bookcase?" Indeed it was. Resplendent in pantaloons, no less. Fancy and thespian, a difficult fashion concept to convey. Adding to the hilarity, which at this point was stifled out of respect for the acne-ridden musicians, was that an Edgar Allen Poe action figure stood at Shakespeare's side. Literary badasses, both of them.
It's no great reflection upon my character that I had to strain mightily not to arrange them obscenely after the concert. In my mind's eye a tableau of the Bard bent over while Poe gave him "the Raven" would have been probably the greatest moment of 2011 thus far.
Friday, January 7, 2011
It's News To Me
So the other night my sister and I were watching the evening news. In Milwaukee the news is really shitty. Not the actual happenings, but the news show. I mean it is absolute shit, both in content and delivery. It often looks like a parody of real news. Minnesota was better.
Anyway, my favorite story of all time occurred the other night. It requires a little exposure to both the midwest and uncommon religions, but it's probably funny anyway. The story is as follows:
It started out showing police vehicles dramatically parked askew in front of a church. The reporter is standing in front of the scene. Lights may or may not have been flashing. The reporter begins to talk about the event of the day, which is that a woman openly carried a gun into a church. Not to shoot things up, just to carry. People can be into that here, you know, their right to have a gun anytime just in case some shit goes down in the produce aisle. I'm of the opinion that shit often gets shittier when there are more guns involved, but it seems that the gun havers feel safer with a little steel courage by their sides.
I digress.
So then it cuts to a reporter talking to the gun toting woman inside a sanctuary-looking area. Her name is plastered across the bottom of the screen, but her face is not shown. It feels sinister and hilarious. The woman, who is heavyset and wearing a holiday turtleneck, shows us how she carried her gun. She is wearing a belt with a holster. She snaps the gun in with a diabolical snapping noise. She says that she has the right to carry, and they should not have arrested her. She will sue. The gun snapping into holster is replayed, holiday turtleneck background resplendent.
Cut to a new scene. It is the reverend of the church. We become aware that this is a Unitarian church. My sister and I fall apart laughing. The reverend speaks. She is quite butch, which is totally par for the course in a Unitarian situation. There is usually a high quotient of vegans, political activists, ex-peace corps members, gays and lesbians, liberals, and appreciaters of poetry (as an aside, growing up Unitarian exposed me to possibly some of the best potluck performances of all time, no small feat in central MN). The reverend mentions with great understatement that the peaceful nature of the Sunday service was threatened by the weapon, and in alarm, the Unitarians called the police to deal with the firearm, as Unitarians are not battle trained. The peace corps is not as focused on hand-to-hand combat and disarming intruders as other branches of government service. The reverend looks like she is a little distressed, less by the actual high-intensity incident than by the poor judgment of the woman carrying a gun into the midst of a bunch of Unitarians. She points out that they now have a sign forbidding the entry of weapons into the church. She looks pained that she has to keep talking about firearms.
At this point my sister and I are seriously losing our shit. It was just such an extreme case of the Midwest, Unitarians, and not knowing your audience that all came together in a confluence of awesomeness. It's possible that you have to be from the upper midwest, Unitarian, or maybe just really willing to laugh at people to appreciate the whole thing, but any way we sliced it it was some funny shit.
NO GUNS IN THE UNITARIAN CHURCH
Anyway, my favorite story of all time occurred the other night. It requires a little exposure to both the midwest and uncommon religions, but it's probably funny anyway. The story is as follows:
It started out showing police vehicles dramatically parked askew in front of a church. The reporter is standing in front of the scene. Lights may or may not have been flashing. The reporter begins to talk about the event of the day, which is that a woman openly carried a gun into a church. Not to shoot things up, just to carry. People can be into that here, you know, their right to have a gun anytime just in case some shit goes down in the produce aisle. I'm of the opinion that shit often gets shittier when there are more guns involved, but it seems that the gun havers feel safer with a little steel courage by their sides.
I digress.
So then it cuts to a reporter talking to the gun toting woman inside a sanctuary-looking area. Her name is plastered across the bottom of the screen, but her face is not shown. It feels sinister and hilarious. The woman, who is heavyset and wearing a holiday turtleneck, shows us how she carried her gun. She is wearing a belt with a holster. She snaps the gun in with a diabolical snapping noise. She says that she has the right to carry, and they should not have arrested her. She will sue. The gun snapping into holster is replayed, holiday turtleneck background resplendent.
Cut to a new scene. It is the reverend of the church. We become aware that this is a Unitarian church. My sister and I fall apart laughing. The reverend speaks. She is quite butch, which is totally par for the course in a Unitarian situation. There is usually a high quotient of vegans, political activists, ex-peace corps members, gays and lesbians, liberals, and appreciaters of poetry (as an aside, growing up Unitarian exposed me to possibly some of the best potluck performances of all time, no small feat in central MN). The reverend mentions with great understatement that the peaceful nature of the Sunday service was threatened by the weapon, and in alarm, the Unitarians called the police to deal with the firearm, as Unitarians are not battle trained. The peace corps is not as focused on hand-to-hand combat and disarming intruders as other branches of government service. The reverend looks like she is a little distressed, less by the actual high-intensity incident than by the poor judgment of the woman carrying a gun into the midst of a bunch of Unitarians. She points out that they now have a sign forbidding the entry of weapons into the church. She looks pained that she has to keep talking about firearms.
At this point my sister and I are seriously losing our shit. It was just such an extreme case of the Midwest, Unitarians, and not knowing your audience that all came together in a confluence of awesomeness. It's possible that you have to be from the upper midwest, Unitarian, or maybe just really willing to laugh at people to appreciate the whole thing, but any way we sliced it it was some funny shit.
NO GUNS IN THE UNITARIAN CHURCH
Hiatus Status
My longest absence yet. I'm sure it was painful for many. I know how the blogosphere awaits my missives and it's been quite a while. I had a semester of wrath and despair, though, culminating in severe burnout. Moving one week before finals was tricky. Post-Halloween was a whirlwind of house fixing, house showing, studying, paper writing, training, chauffeuring, parenting, ex-husband managing, bank closing attending, and various other shit that stormed down upon me. I of course handled it with no freak outs at all, smoothly attending to all responsibilities. That was sarcasm, by the way. At one point my hair actually shot out from my head like porcupine quills combined with scud missiles, due to the high intensity pressure buildup of my life. I even called my mom and cried to her for a while one morning. For those of you who know me, that is telling. I do not generally call people and cry to them. No judgment upon those who do, it's just very out of character for me. I'd generally rather a) deal with shit, not cry about it a whole lot unless it's really sad; or b) if it requires crying, let it rip but on my own in private. So pretty disturbing, the whole end of the semester. Anyway, here I am and I have a break until the end of January whereupon my life resumes at a faster more obnoxious pace than ever. I'm looking forward to it.
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