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This is the greatest site ever.
You can get the book (for yourself or for me) here.
When I was in high school, I didn't want to be Watts or Amanda Jones or Andie or Ducky or Ally Sheedy or anyone in anything John Hughes. I wanted to be Jennie Lee from Satisfaction. Last night, I watched that movie again for the first time in forever and had a very pleasant sense-memory descent into my childhood, which involved cut-off jeans and ratted hair and dreams of a scholarship to college AND a rock'n'roll band AND an affair with a significantly older record producer named Falcon, all at the same time.
When we got the puppy, our downstairs neighbor gave us a present: a long Pottery Barn rug made of thickly knotted wheatgrass. It ran the length of the hall, providing a buffer between running doggy paws and her ceiling. Mojo, the puppy, of course, ate it. We came home from work and the rug was peeled like an orange.
I ordered another one from the catalogue, and it arrived on Saturday. Coincidentally, Saturday was Mojo's first birthday. I think HE thinks the replacement rug is his present. Like, "Here, baby, Happy Birthday! Have another stupidly expensive wheatgrass rug to destroy! Spread the scraps all over the house so I can spend the day cleaning up after you!" He's been eyeing the rug all afternoon, tail wagging, licking his chops, waiting for the moment they'll be alone together.
Today in class, my students berated me for not knowing the name of He-Man's orange and green tiger. "D'uh!" they said. "It's CRINGER! And then when he gets the Power of Castle Grayskull, he turns into BATTLE CAT!" I felt very old, very out of the loop.
For those of you who also didn't know the name of He-Man's orange and green tiger (and all other He-Man related FAQ), please enlighten yourself here.
I know they do it for American Idol et all, but when did the news start phone-in voting? I usually get the news online or radio, but I'm watching it televised as we speak and there, in front of me, is a question, and I'm supposed to phone in my answer, which is strange for a whole myriad of reasons, not the least of which is the question isn't really news-related.
Should boys be allowed to join an all-girl bowling league?
I say Yes. I'm all for bowling. Christopher is on a bowling league and he is very happy after he plays. He does a little dance (an I Bowled Me a High Score, Yessir kind of dance), and I think boys should be involved in whatever activity gets them dancing.
Also: I was the little girl who wanted to play soccer with the boys when I was ten, and I had to prove my stuff, you know? At first, they'd try to disuade me by calling a Shirts vrs. Skins game and making me play on the Skins team, but I got them back real good in the end 'cause my dad got me Castle Grayskull for Christmas (to go with my He-Man and my Skeletor and my orange and green tiger with the saddle) and they all wanted to play with Castle Grayskull so after that, we were friends. And I got to play soccer with my shirt on. There are feminists reading this post and screaming at me, I think. Whatever. I'm pro-inclusion. If the boy has got what it takes to roll with an all-girl bowling league, I say give it a go. If he can't muster it, the girls will tell him where to get off. Girls are great at telling boys where to get off, especially in junior high.
Thanks to all of you who came to the Hideout this weekend. We had full houses both Friday and Sunday nights! Thanks also to Jonathon at the Dollar Store and Matt at Serendipity for giving me the chance to get up there and babble (again) about my dating life.
My former dating life.
The story I did Sunday (guy stands under a girl's porch every night for a hundred nights and sings Bon Jovi's Livin' on a Prayer) was written long before I met Christopher. I was pretty cynical back then ("I've been hurt by love blah blah I'll be single for the rest of my life blah"), and the story was sort of me talking myself into trying again. Being open to it again. So anyway, after I finished the reading, I got off stage and went over to kiss Christopher. Some (very drunk) guy in the audience saw this, and ran up to Christopher and said, "Dude, was that you? In the story? Like, are you the guy?" Christopher told him no, he wasn't the guy, as in he wasn't the guy who sang Bon Jovi under my porch a hundred times (he's the guy who did a slew of other things, which are for my journal that nobody reads but me). Had this (very drunk) guy directed the question to me, I would've said yes, Christopher WAS the guy, as in he was the guy who made me believe it was possible, even if I did fictionalize the way it all went down. And the charcaters and the place and all of it (especially the part where the narrator rips on Keats. 'cause I kinda dig Keats).
I'm bringing this up because I really, truly used to be That Girl. The one who thought it would never happen. And on the offshoot chance that That Girl is reading this right now, I'd just like to tell her to hang on. It's coming, probably sooner than you think. Just be open to it. If he's singing under your porch, go down the fuckin' stairs and meet him halfway.
Here's the disclaimer: I don’t watch much TV, and, when I do, I spend a lot of time bitching about the commercials. Not because they’re interrupting the show, and not because of corporate America trying to brainwash me and my checkbook to rush out immediately and buy a (insert product here), but, quite simply, because most of them are bad. I imagine this has to do with loads of things like target markets and polls and What the Average American wants, ad tricks and subliminal messages and so on. Ho hum. Whatever. There’s too many other things I’m trying to wrap my brain around these days.
That said, there was, years ago, this TV commercial for Sprite: three people dressed in pink bunny suits, standing in a line. Each played the Ukelele, and rocked back and forth to the blue-grassy music. Slowly, the one on the right turned around, and he had a sign that said SLICE on his back. Then, the one on the left turned around, and his back said 7-UP. Then the middle guy turned around, and his back said SPRITE, and he started playing his Ukelele like an electric guitar and the music got all Jimi Hendrix and it was awesome. Didn’t make me rush out to buy Sprite or anything (although I do drink it when I’m sick ‘cause that’s what my mom gave me when I was little. Sprite and Saltine crackers. It’s a nostalgia thing), but I did laugh really hard whenever I saw the commercial, and laughing is a good thing. This can be attributed to the fact that I like bunny costumes specifically, and any sort of person in an animal costume in general (loooved the Flaming Lips Pink Yoshimi tour, with some twenty costumed animals on stage with the band. Why’d they do that, you ask? No idea).
Anyhow, I tell you all this because last night, Christopher showed me this commercial on the internet. And I thought it was wonderful, and I think you all should watch it, not because I’m trying to push Sony on you or whatever, but just because it cheered me up, and gave me a good idea for a story, and the José González track is great, and maybe, later today, I’ll go to Uncle Fun for a little shopping spree.
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