My lovely friend Schmutzie created Grace In Small Things as a way to find joy in life. Since I’m usually railing against something in this space, I figured it would be good for my psyche to start documenting the tiny moments that are keeping me sane, lest I slowly morph into a bitter shrew. I’m going to aim for once a week.
1. New sheet pans, the first nice ones I’ve had, that are big and clean and flat and will last a long time. Thank you, work discount.
2. Seeing my breath for the first time this fall when walking the dogs.
3. Coming home from work yesterday to all the laundry done.
4. Asher sharing an almost-empty peanut butter jar with Neko.
5. The morning ritual of making coffee. I make one french-pressed pot every morning; I’ll never give up grinding my own beans.
I’ve struggled to write about anything political in this space for a long time, mostly because I’m disillusioned. As much as I want to satisfy all my Tea Party stalkers by regretting my support of Obama, I don’t. I actually think he’s doing a damn fine job considering the craptastic hand that was dealt to him by the Bush Administration and a Congress full of people who ironically don’t believe in government’s ability to function so they completely hinder government’s ability to function as a kind of “I told you so”. That’s what’s disillusioning. I don’t 100% support everything our president has done thus far, and I’m certainly frustrated with what he hasn’t done. But my anger is directed elsewhere. → continue reading
Neko got spayed on Tuesday because years of Bob Barker’s brainwashing has me fully committed to both Plinko and controlling the pet population. For all the pet Nazis who are all “What took you so long? You should have done that right after you got her, you puppy mill supporter”, she was on antibiotics for mites so she couldn’t be put under until those were over. I was really, really hoping this would calm her down a bit. When I picked her up after her surgery, she was woozy and drugged up and hobbled to the truck. She immediately curled up next to me and spent the rest of the night dozing on a bed we made for her in the living room. At bedtime, I put her in her bed in our room and pet her while she rested her head on my lap. I just kept thinking how she must feel betrayed that I took her to a place where they made her hurt and my soul ached. → continue reading
New readers may not know that I play kickball for Team Awesome, a motley crew of Busch-swilling hardcore fans and the various people associated with them, including most of my St Louis girlfriends at one point or another. We used to be pretty good, but we’re old now. We even have team members who have kids and bring strollers and such to games. We’re losing our edge, I tell you, although there’s still plenty of mid-game smoking, boss tunes as at-bat anthems, and jorts-wearing. One dude wears manpris. We won’t discuss it. In any event, I know it’s a lame hipster whatever, but we have a good time and I fool myself into thinking it’s exercise. Except it becomes exercise sometimes. → continue reading
Every week I plan on writing something profound over here in this space, and the last few weeks, time has just gotten away from me. I’m spending valuable brain cells trying to decipher the cultural significance of the Real Housewives of DC and most of my patience trying to keep Neko from humping Asher or eating my last nice bras, so it feels like I just draw a blank every time I sit down to write here. I apologize, loyal readers.
In the meantime, you should check out my work over at MamaPop this week if you haven’t already. I recapped the aforementioned Real Housewives of DC, which I do weekly. I don’t know why people aren’t watching. I get that it’s no New Jersey, but it’s a very interesting take on race relations in the US, particularly the intersection of race and privilege in relation to wealth and cultural capital. Or maybe that’s how I justify my obsession. I also outlined six reasons why you should be watching Sons of Anarchy, because you totally should.
A friend asked me a few weeks ago how I have time to watch so much television. Granted, this dude works 16-hour days and has two kids under the age of three, so we aren’t on the same level when it comes to allotment of leisure time. First, DVR makes this possible. I’d seriously cut back if I didn’t have it. However, I choose to watch television because I like people’s stories, fictional or not (or some weird Frankenhybrid), and I’m interested in their cultural significance and how they choose to reflect our dynamic culture. Like it or not, those crazy bitches in animal prints are a part of the cultural discourse. I also think well-written fictional shows are interesting windows into different times. For example, I thought I understood the constraints placed on women in the 1950s and 60s, but Mad Men brought that to life in a way that I hadn’t ever experienced before. That perspective is of value to me. Plus, I like crazy people. They make me feel normal.
ANYWAY, I’ve got some high-priority writing time scheduled this weekend and next week for this space, so I hope you won’t abandon me completely and will come back when I’m posting more thoughtful diatribes, or, at the very least, cute dog pictures.
The world would be a better place if people did more nice things for no reason. Yesterday, I was plum tickled that some dude smiled and waved me through a stop sign. Seriously. I am easily affected.
ANYWAY, you should totally do something awesome for someone else. I will even tell you two awesome things you can do without even getting off your computer.
1. My ladyblogging Kelly who works in education (not to be confused with my other ladyblogging friend Kelly who works in education) is asking folks to throw a little support to Mr. C, a special education teacher looking to make a difference in his classroom by using iPods and iPads as a replacement for his busted computer situation. I’ve written before about how great Donors Choose is, and if you are looking for a way to give a small amount of money to a very worthy cause, this is your chance. Please think about helping out Mr. C and his classroom. If you can’t donate, you can vote for Mr. C and his project to get funding through Limeaids for Learning.
2. Another blogging friend, Jason, from Outnumbered, just wrote a children’s book. If you were at BlogHer, you would remember Jason as the lone dude who spoke at the Community Keynote. He also let me ride a scooter in his office, because that’s the kind of guy he is and the kind of office he’s got. Not relevant. He wrote a children’s book, called Do Witches Make Fishes?and Jason is donating all the proceeds from the sale of the book to the Garden of Dreams Foundation. About the book:
Do Witches Make Fishes? is the moral tale of a young boy who favors candy over his mother’s outlandish but healthy dishes. When faced with an ultimatum from his mother, the boy has to make a difficult choice. What ensues is a series of extraordinary and fantastical events that will take the reader on a magical journey through the imagination of a child. In the end, you will find yourself asking, Do Witches Make Fishes?
So, yeah, if you have a kid in your life, you should probably buy them this book and then read it to them and feel warm and snuggly all over.
Other awesome things you could do would be come over and patch up the giant hole in the drywall that Neko scratched or bring me a grape snocone. Just suggestions.
This weekend was a damn fine weekend to live in St Louis. Chris had his fake football draft all day Saturday. I was going to work in the garden because it is a hot mess that I have a lot of shame over, but then I succumbed to peer pressure, as I so often do, and headed to LouFest.
LouFest is an unfortunately-named first-year music festival held in St Louis’s crown jewel, Forest Park, where Chris and I got married. The lineup was impressive (She&Him, Broken Social Scene, Lucero, Built to Spill, Jeff Tweedy), but not packed with bands we actively follow and love. Normally, we would have totally been down for going both days, but we ultimately decided not to spend the money on two-day passes for both of us. It seemed like my entire Twitter feed was going, though, and Friday I just decided to go for it and told my boy Mike D. that I was going to join him on Saturday. → continue reading
Thank you to everyone who commented on my questioning Catholicism post. For the most part, things stayed respectful and I appreciate everyone who shared their personal stories. You guys rock. For the sake of fairness, the Christians are next, because I just watched Waiting for Armageddon and that noise will stop you dead in your tracks. My friend Christine e-mailed me and said, “You know who I feel bad for in the whole Catholic scam…Jesus. That dude has a lot of fucked up shit happening in his name and he’s not even around to be like, “Hey. Don’t do that. Thanks, bro.” And that’s how I feel about Waiting for Armageddon, but with the Christians. It’s on Netflix Watch Instantly if you want to prepare yourself for my eventual rant. I was raised Lutheran, which is totally Catholic-lite and not really into fear-based end-times chatter, but I’ve read some of the Left Behind books (shut it, I was in high school/early college) and so I have opinions, and they involve Kirk Cameron. → continue reading
So my friend is getting married in the Catholic church, and, as part of the activities you have to complete in order to do so, she had to go to a natural family planning class. If you don’t live in the Catholic Capitol of the US, like I do, you might not know that NFP is like the Catholic version of birth control. You can google it if you want more details.
ANYWAY, apparently the class at this particular parish is led by a nice married couple who asked the class what were the three ways a couple could avoid conception. According to the people teaching the class on the sexin’, those methods are: → continue reading
My lovely friend Schmutzie created Grace In Small Things as a way to find joy in life. Since I’m usually railing against something in this space, I figured it would be good for my psyche to start documenting the tiny moments that are keeping me sane, lest I slowly morph into a bitter shrew. I’m going to aim for once a week.
