Last week a national magazine asked me if I’d write a short piece for both their print and online versions that would include quotes from my readers on the topic of pregnancy. The day before it was due I thought, Hmm, I wonder how much they’re planning on paying me for this? (I’m known for my guilelessness and trusting nature.) (No, really, it’s true.) Surprisingly, National Magazine revealed that they intended to pay me in “blog hits” — links to my site(s) from their web page. I perceived no malice in their request, their rationale was merely that I wasn’t writing that much anyway, that most of the piece would be quotes culled from my not-terribly-vast-but-highly-intelligent-and-also-stunningly-attractive readership, and that being in their magazine would get me noticed.
Despite their poignant logic, my next thoughts were as follows:
So I got a Kindle for Christmas last year, and I have to confess: I don’t really love it.
Lord knows I’ve read the effusions of converts across America, people who can’t believe how much they don’t miss holding an actual book in their hands. People who could give a shit about cover art, whose singular joy comes from text alone, from the story that gets planted and flourishes in their head. And I’ve mulled it over, wondering what’s wrong with me that I don’t like clicking pages as much as turning them. Certainly I’ve enjoyed the advantages of traveling with eight books loaded into a machine the size of a single trade paperback, and of being to download something new to read while standing in a 45-minute-long line for airport security. There’s no disputing the miraculousness of literary instant gratification, if you can afford it.
It’s just the act of reading on the stupid thing that bums me out.
I was woken up at 4:30 a.m. and spent the rest of the day sweating a deadline, taking a child to and from the doctor, being late to work, working, going to my knitting group but not knitting very much, administering NaBloPoMo, and sitting here knowing I don’t have a goddamn thing to tell anyone but all of THAT. So there you go. See you tomorrow.
Halloween this year was unexpectedly awesome. Jackson has officially transitioned from cute and/or superhero costumes to spooky ones, and though we thought he’d achieved this milestone last year, we too-late discovered that 2009′s skeleton zombie costume actually frightened him so much that he gave himself nightmares by wearing it. However, 2010′s pulsating, bloody Scream mask was by all accounts a spectacular success, both socially and psychologically. (more…)
I no longer remember why Jackson asked me to draw a picture of Mr. Freeze. I forgot to give him goggles: (more…)
I am giving away a Flip SlideHD video camera for Mother’s Day, come over here and I’ll tell you what you can to do maybe win it.
Last week I had to take my car in to get the passenger side door lock replaced. Owning a car that was built in the previous century means that as you round the corner into your second decade of ownership all sorts of interesting parts begin to fail. In February the coolant system needed resuscitation. In March the computer brain that causes all the dashboard alerts to light up all at once caused all the dashboard alerts to light up all at once. Then in April Jackson discovered that he could open the passenger side door even when it appeared to be locked. “How do I keep opening a locked door?” he shouted over the sound of the car alarm one day. “YOU’RE DOING WHAT?!” I inquired politely at the top of my lungs.
So one morning last week I left my car at Swedemasters at 8:15 a.m., which gave me 45 minutes until I had to be at the acupuncture office where I’m currently undergoing a series of treatments meant to restore the cyclical functions of my lady parts. (The transition between blithe fertility and never having to look another tampon in the eye comes at a price, ladies. Fortunately, Chinese herbs and tiny little needles strategically placed in my toes/knees/scalp may keep the aging process from killing me HA HA HA.) Anyway, between the garage where I’d left my car and the acupuncture office I had a 20-block city walk to enjoy, so I took some photos! For you!
I’m doing NaBlo this month, posting every day! I don’t know why! The theme is “Look Up.” (I don’t plan on posting photos of the sky 31 days in a row, but it could happen.)
I lost $10 on the Kentucky Derby today. I don’t condone gambling, I’ll have you know, and I’m sure that in some circles horse racing is an abomination on par with professional wrestling and Fashion Week (all three require drug abuse and outfits that don’t make sense in any other context). I can only hope that my $10 served as a karmic deduction, as well.
I had a dream that Matthew Broderick was a Beluga whale that I met at a pool party. The party was at some seaside resort, and to get him out of the pool and over to the bar one of his friends just dragged him by the tail along the sidewalk. “Matthew Broderick seems really fine with being dragged along the ground like that,” I said somewhat skeptically to this so-called friend, a skinny girl with scruffy dyed-blond hair, who also appeared to be dating my high school theater teacher. “Matthew Broderick is pretty much just like you’d expect him to be,” she said to me. “He’s really funny and he’s nice to everyone.” And all the while Matthew Broderick is bumping along the ground with this sad-eyed whale expression, like, I have accepted my lot in life, to be a whale toiling without water. Exploited for my warmth and likability, which at least keeps these land creatures from abandoning me on some tragic Animal Planet set.”
So, how’s that experiment in chair-free living going? you may be asking. It’s going pretty well, thanks! I’ve been sitting on the floor a lot. This is something you can do when you have a laptop. I’ve explored many variations of the classic padmasana or lotus posture, and most of them make my legs numb. But that’s half the fun! Wobbling around the house, getting deep into those hip joints and really giving them what for! And the dogs love being able to shed directly onto me, rather than using the couch as a middle man. It’s just another sacrifice I’m willing to make for my pets, and for yoga, and for the future-me, some perhaps misguided notion about avoiding hip replacement(s) when I’m 80, if I even make it that far. If half the world lives without chairs then by god so can I! I haven’t quite worked out how to remove the seats from my car, but you can be sure I’ll post pictures when I’ve managed to upholster the whole interior in zafutons.
As promised, here is a photo of the world’s smallest snail* discovered on the sidewalk not ten feet from my door!!
*This claim has not been evaluated by the World Snail-Measuring Council and is for demonstration purposes only. Ask your doctor if Small Snails™ are right for you.
Lastly, I may have forgotten to mention that it’s time for National Blog Posting Month again and I want you all to sign up and blog your brains out in November. I’m told it’s a wonderful exercise in discipline. And if discipline isn’t it’s own reward (we’re not Puritans, after all!), there are prizes.